#shut up dantes... please... why

[mako-neexu]

interlude 2 is just funny as hell bc everyone guda meets along the way has people tell them that dantes is sick af hes been coughing up blood for weeks now and guda is just really worried alongside abby AND THEN WHEN ID CHAPTER DROPPED for context YOU REALIZE HIS SICKNESS IS LEGIT LOVE SICKNESS but its in a way where hes actively destroying himself for guda bc he just loves a little too much 😭 this guy is nuts. (of course this is my delusion but the truth remains that he still got overworked bc of cagliostro. what really pushed him was the creation of fake tokyo and another spirit origin for guda's sake)

[yominero]

DEVIL MAY CRY — FINISHING TOUCHES EDITION

PRESS START TO LOSE CONTROL

dmc men x fem!reader (separate)

your body is a blank canvas, and he is the artist. every stroke, every gasp, every drop left behind is a signature.

NOW LOADING... where he finishes, how he claims you, why you’ll never forget it. BREEDING LEVEL: LEGENDARY.

NERO MESSIER THAN HE MEANT TO BE SPARDA REVVED TOO HARD INSIDE, ON YOUR STOMACH

You’re on your stomach, ass up, face buried in the sheets, and Nero’s trying so hard to be quiet. He’s panting against your spine, trying not to lose it as your body rocks with every sloppy, desperate thrust. His metal arm clutches your waist, keeping you right where he wants you… No, where he needs you.

“F-fuck—you feel so good,” he grits, voice cracking, cheeks flushed a deep crimson. “I swear to god, baby, you’re gonna kill me like this…”

You moan his name—soft, ruined. He chokes. Actually chokes on air, and then you say it. You say the words that ruin him. “Inside. Nero… please. I want it.”

Everything stops, because shut up he is trying so hard not to cum.

He pulls back just enough to stare down at you, wide-eyed, pupils blown. His mouth parts like he wants to say something, but all that comes out is a strangled noise. His next thrust hits deep, harder than before, as if your plea just flipped a switch in him because it did.

“Shit—fuck, baby—are you sure?” he gasps, voice wrecked. “You say shit like that and I’m gonna fucking devil trigger, I swear to god…”

You nod, reaching back to grab at him, begging with your body now too. He groans. Loud. Desperate. He can’t hold back, and with one more thrust, he’s gone.

Nero cums with a growl, burying himself to the hilt as his cock pulses inside you. His body curls over yours, trembling with the force of it, one hand fisting in your hair, the other braced against your lower back as he fills you full—hot, thick, way too much.

“Ah, goddamn it,” he whines into your neck, lips brushing your ear. “You’re so good—so fucking perfect…shit, I didn’t mean to, but I wanted to…”

He stays there, cock twitching with your cunt fluttering around him, milking every drop. When he finally pulls out, he watches it leak from you and his eyes go wide, reverent, wrecked. He exhales a curse, dragging a hand down his face.

“…I’m gonna be broke from buying Plan B.”

You hum, still hazy, a teasing lilt to your voice. “Then stop doing it.” He glares. Blushes. Cums again in his fucking mind.

“You’re the worst,” he mutters, reaching for a towel, then staring at the mess on your thighs instead.

...But he doesn’t clean it up. Because just then you slowly roll onto your back aching, dripping, and stretch like a goddamn goddess. Your stomach’s already smeared with him, slick between your thighs, glowing in the low light. And Nero loses it again.

“Oh—oh fuck,” he gasps, jerking forward like a man possessed. His cock, still hard, twitches at the sight. “I—I can’t—”

He fists himself, frantic, not even trying to hold back. He finishes all over your stomach and tits with a hoarse cry, hips stuttering, ropes of cum painting you again like it’s instinct, unholy thought filling his head.

“I’ll do it again,” he pants. “As many times as you let me.”

DANTE UNHINGED IN THE HOTTEST WAY SPARDA HITTING THE JACKPOT INSIDE, ON YOUR TITS OR ASS

Dante’s not just fucking you—he’s painting you. A masterpiece of moans, soreness, and his cum exactly where he wants it. His favorite spot? Depends on how feral he's feeling.

When he finishes inside, it’s deep and messy, punctuated by rough groans and his hips twitching as he empties himself into you. But Dante’s an exhibitionist with no one to impress but you. So sometimes, just to prove a point, he pulls out last second and strokes himself, watching your tits bounce or your ass jiggle beneath him and whistles at the sight of you looking like a fertility goddess. A second later he covers your body with thick ropes of cum while grinning like the devil himself.

"Gonna need a round two just to clean it up.”

He wants you to feel it drip, see it pool on your belly, or drip down your thighs. To him, you’re not just his partner, you are art itself, and he makes the finishing touches.

On the occasions when he finishes inside you (which is every time), he’s nested deep. Not just emotional damage deep, you swear you can feel his dick reaching your throat: thick, throbbing, filling every inch to perfection. His hips grind slowly, then a little faster, and your legs are shaking from how long he’s kept you right on the edge. You already had your orgasms. What is taking him so long?

“Shit… you feel too good, baby,” he mutters, burring his head in the crock of your neck, his breath hot and ragged as he leaves a soft kiss there. “So tight, like you were made for me, yeah?”

Then he sinks in fully with one final thrust, and you feel the twitch. The hot warmth of him spilling inside, not pulling—even worse, he is not even trying to, because he loves this level of closeness and intimacy. Body to body, soul to soul.

Your body clamps down involuntarily, and you whimper at the sheer fullness and the way it stretches you, the way you swear you feel it in your belly. He chuckles, sinfully and proudly reaches down, pressing a hand flat to your lower abdomen.

“Well, look at that,” he pants, eyes glazed with lust and something a little unhinged. “All mine, sweetheart. You are so beautiful when you are full of me.”

You shiver beneath him, dazed, needy, a little too into it. Your breath catches at the pressure blooming inside, the slick, hot mess. He pulls out slow, and when your hips jerk, his cum leaks out in thick white drips.

“Now you really look divine,” he murmurs, thumbing it back in like he can’t help himself. “Shit, I’ll grab Plan B in the morning, I swear. Just...let me enjoy this one, alright?”

You nod, voice lost somewhere between a sigh and a whimper. Right now, you don't have the mental capacity to respond or to think about anything other than him.

And the worst part is that you secretly love it. Love the way he fucks you like he’s claiming you for the very first time. Love the way he shows just how much he loves you. Love the way you already want more.

VERGIL TAKE EVERYTHING I OFFER SPARDA THE APROACHING STORM INSIDE, ON YOUR THIGHS

He always finishes inside. Always. You won't catch this man slacking or not doing anything the way it's supposed to.

There’s something empowering about the way he holds you when he’s close—one hand gripping your thigh to keep you from moving so much, the other hand cradling your throat, not tight, just enough for you to feel how fragile you are under him. His face is buried in your neck, breath cold despite the furious way his hips grind into yours.

“You will take it,” he murmurs, voice low, trembling with control, with hunger. “Do you understand?” You nod, too far gone to speak, thighs trembling from the pressure building with every thrust. You can feel it—his restraint snapping thread by thread, unraveling.

And then it hits, like a silent storm that no one knew would come. As an unexpected surprise that was more than pleasant.

He sinks in with a final, bruising thrust and stills. You feel the hot, pulsing rush of his release flood you, thick and deliberate, marking you. He groans low in his throat—a rare, vulnerable sound—as his jaw clenches against your shoulder. You clutch at his back, panting, moaning, full in the deepest, most primal sense.

He doesn’t pull out, never does.

He stays inside you, hips pressed flush, as if trying to carve the shape of himself into your womb. You shift under him, overstimulated, but his hand presses your hip still.

“You feel that?” he breathes against your ear. “Mine.”

When Vergil finishes inside you, it’s not just sex, it’s a silent promise to keep the connection between two souls sacred. He doesn’t moan or curse, just breathes out your name like a command, like a claim, because he has control over you, but you are also his weakness.

Each time, his eyes go half-lidded, that stoic expression crossing his face, like he’s giving you something sacred that will break any minute, something he shouldn’t even think about. He’s breaking a rule he made for himself, and when his cum leaks out of you, hot and heavy, he only watches it, lips twitching faintly. “Waste nothing.”

But on the rare occasions he doesn’t finish inside you, when he has to pull out, because you’re sore or overstimulated or too full already; he’ll wrap a hand around himself at the last second and cum over your thighs, groaning through gritted teeth. Something about the way it drips down your skin drives him feral. His breath hitches, drunken on the sight of the mess both of you created.

There’s awe in him when he sees you like that—ruined, shivering, legs sticky with him. “Look at you,” he mutters, voice caught between worship and mockery, typical Vergil. “Greedy little thing. Always asking for more... and yet you can barely take it.”

The words aren’t cruel, not really. They come wrapped in quiet praise, veiled affection, something soft only you ever get from him. He leans down, mouth brushing your temple. And then stares at you like he always does, in a whisper so raw it almost doesn’t sound like him:

“I love it.” A pause. “I love you.”

Yeah, you have this man wrapped around your finger … or inside you.

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

[mannequinreligi0n]

Mating Season

get bred, loser

pairing: dante x reader (female anatomy, gn pronouns)

wc: 2.2k

warnings: NSFW - breeding kink, monster-fucking, blood/blood play

author’s note: i’ve been meaning to write this for so long but unfortunately i am a depressed adult with a full time job, and finding time/energy to write is difficult :’) sorry if this isn’t up to standards or there’re mistakes. enjoy, smooches.

links: ao3

Twelve missed calls, six voicemails, and twenty-three texts from Dante is what you’re greeted with upon waking up - and it’s barely noon. Scrolling through the texts, you’re met with the ramblings of a madman, pleading for you to come over, to see him, to cancel your plans for the day. With a quick shower and change of clothes, you oblige in his wanton demands and head over to the loft.

You only manage a single knock before the door swings open and Dante is dragging you inside by the sleeve of your sweater.

“Dante! The hell has gotten into-“

”No time. Don’t ask.”

He pulls you straight into his bedroom, kicking the door shut behind him. Throwing you over his shoulder, he launches you onto the bed with a ‘thump’, your smaller form springing on the mattress. Dante reels over you, snatching your coat off and ducking his head into the curve of your neck with a deep inhale, nose sniffing your skin like a damn bloodhound.

”You showered,” he mopes, teeth pulling at the fragile skin of your throat. You squirm under the weight of him, hands pushing at his chest to levitate some of the burden.

”Yeah, so what?’

“You weren’t supposed to - I said not to. Did you even read my texts?”

”Dante, you’re being ridiculous. Do you even hear yourself?” You lift your head up to look at him, pushing him off of you. Dante makes a sad whine, a demeaning sound coming from the devil hunter. His messy locks flop down in front of his face and he lets out a long sigh, hands pawing at the fabric of your pants.

”I’m sorry, babe. God, you don’t have any idea how hard this has been without you,” he mumbles sheepishly, eyes fixated on the faint red mark he left on your neck. His hands trembled against your legs, clearly trying to hold himself back in order to have a coherent conversation with you. “I thought I could handle this alone, but I keep thinking about last week…how warm you felt, like that pretty little hole was made just for me,” he interrupts himself with a groan, hunching over as if in pain. You reach a hand up and push back the already sweaty strands to see his face, feeling his fevered skin brush your fingertips.

”Why didn’t you call me over sooner? You know I would’ve came,” you murmur, observing his needy state with a bit of concern.

”Didn’t wanna be a bother. I thought I could handle it on my own, y’know? I always have, but with you in the picture now-“ He lurches toward your hand on him, nuzzling into it with a choked breath. “Please…please, just-….just let me-“

You pet his cheek as you think over the proposition, mouth pursed. You finally agree with a small nod, pulling your hand away.

“Is it safe?”

”I won’t hurt you. I would never,” Dante reaches for your wrists, thumbs rubbing at the pulse points. He stares at you with his best ‘puppy-dog’ look, a pout on his lips. “I’ll be good, I promise. God, please, just let me fuck you - you got a man begging here.”

You chuckle and shake your head, pulling him back to you with a mumbled ‘c’mere’. Dante wastes no time latching himself back onto you, pulling your shirt off and biting down on your shoulder with a chesty groan. His hands work at your pants as he marks up your skin, the bites hard but nothing compared to the ones you’ll receive soon enough from his fangs. Clothes gone, you writhe under him and he sits up and sheds his own clothes, sparks of red already flitting off of his skin. Blue eyes morph red and he squeezes your thigh reassuringly, throwing you a shaky smile.

”You remember the safe-word, sweetheart?”

”Ciabatta.”

“Right.”

With a quick peck to your forehead, Dante rolls out his shoulders, cracking a few joints in his spine and neck. Warm, amber light coats his bedroom and Dante’s body morphs into his devil trigger, his nine-foot form casting a daunting shadow over your bare skin. Your breathing quickens at the sight - you’ve seen his DT before, but never like this, never between your legs and teeth glistening in your direction. Sensing your fear, Dante runs a knuckle over your cheek, mindful of his claws. A low, rustling rumble echoes from his vocal chords, bending down to meet his ghastly face to yours.

”It’s still me…” he breathes out, voice altered but still holding his signature lilt. Wings cocoon your body, cradling your form as he lifts you up to dangle in front of his chest. The heat of the flames rippling over his scales threaten to scorch your delicate flesh, the heat making your sweat glands break open and perspire. Dante’s mouth opens and an orange tongue lined with bumps and grooves laps a line across your own chest, taking in the decadent taste of you. Despite your trepidations, you can’t hold in the moan that drops from your mouth, eyes fluttering closed. Transparent, tangerine saliva drips down your abdomen as his tongue roams around, stimulating nerves from your throat to your navel, bumps dragging across smooth skin.

“My mate…Mine, mine,” Dante growls out, clawed fingers pinching at your thighs as he pushes your knees to your chest, wings supporting your weight from behind and below.

”Dante, c-careful, Jesus,” you whimper out, laser-focused on his claws dangerously close to shredding your skin open. All you get in response is another resonant growl, steam pillowing off his breath. Before you can warn him again, the sandpaper tongue swipes at your hole, making you shudder and go limp against his wings, forgetting your train of thought. One thing about Dante was that on the surface, he came off as reckless, impulsive - but it couldn’t be further from the truth. He had backup plans for his backup plans, and thought out every little thing. As much as your body was sounding off alarms to scramble away from the devil, he was taking the time necessary to warm you up before indulging himself - a preliminary ‘thank you’ for being a willing victim. You look up at Dante’s face, or what used to be his face, and lock eyes with the fiery orbs glaring down at you. It was hard to tell, but you could swear that little shit was smiling down at you, knowing you’ve put two and two together. A bass of laughter shakes his form, leaning forward to bump his forehead to yours as carefully as possible.

”Told you. No harm.”

You let out a shaky breath at his smartass remark, but it’s futile to steady your breathing. Dante’s tongue pushes into your hole, pointed and flexed as it slides between your inner walls. The feeling is indescribable, and for lack of a better word: devilish. Your juices coat the length of his tongue as it assaults you repeatedly, twisting in and out while talons keep you folded upright against your squirming. Heat floods your core as your release builds upon itself, gasps and symphonic moans invading the quiet room.

Dante can’t hold his instincts back when the taste and smell of your essence is practically reducing every cell in his body into a lust-driven beast. Ejecting his tongue, his wings cradle you down to the bed, knees kissing your ears in a mating press. Your thighs quake against his scaled palms, missing the fullness of his tongue. You open your mouth to ask what he’s doing, but the words jumble into a whine of pain as his head propels to take a bite at your shoulder. Fangs puncture skin and the devil seems to purr as the crimson nectar dribbles from the bite and into his mouth. The receptors in his brain are screaming at him to bite down again and again and again til you’re a battered, bloody mess - every centimeter of flesh peeled back and consumed in the most carnal way.

Thankfully, the human conscious in him refrains and with another nibble to your neck, he withdraws and centers himself with the pulsating warmth beckoning him in. He doesn’t need to check how wet you are - he can smell it, the pheromones rippling off your sex in waves that rivaled a tsunami. A bulbed shaft stretches into your slick and your head shoots up with a scratchy yelp, pain radiating to your hips. A huff of steam leaves the devil’s nostrils, halting to save you more pain despite his needs. Dante watches your fingers go white against the bedsheets, hanging on for dear life, and you can see his wings wilt at the realization he’s letting his devil instincts get the best of him. A clawed hand grips both of small ankles to hold you in place, the other letting go to scoop up one of your hands. Scales run over the skin gingerly, your fingers curling around his thumb for security.

“Deep breaths, baby. Big, deep breaths for me,” he hums out, the mechanic whirring of his vocal chords carrying his voice past your panicked thoughts. You obey, chest rising and falling as your blurred eyes trace the flame spitting from the top of his head. Dante can feel your walls unclench around him and he takes it as a sign to keep going. It’s a slow and painful process, but inch after inch, he manages to squeeze about half of himself in before hitting your cervix.

‘Damn human anatomy,’ Dante curses internally, but makes peace with the complication, thankful enough that you're taking it like a champ. After a moment of stillness, ensuring you’re okay, he starts to move. Armored hips lurch in and out of your tight hole, hushed growls filling your ears. All you can do is lay there, pliant and accepting. Your hold on his finger tightens as your body rocks around with the thrust of his unnatural cock, his name the only coherent word you can manage while he jabs at your g-spot continuously. Dante’s teeth find their way back to your flesh, leaving bloody constellations along your legs. So consumed by the fullness of his girth, you don’t notice the ruby fluid dripping down your limbs from the bites, barely registering his tongue greedily licking you clean. Bursts of white spot your vision, core muscles tightening as your orgasm tears through you and a scream of pleasure brings tears to your eyes.

“Mine…Mine to fuck, mine to…to take…gonna look so good when you’re full of my cum…” Dante snarls against your skin, pounding his cock into the wall of your cervix with ferocity. He can’t take it anymore - he needs to come, he needs to watch it drip out of you precious cunt. Securing his hand around your ankle, Dante runts himself into your hole, gusts of wind sending goosebumps down your frame as his wings flap behind him with excitement. With a bellowing roar from him, you can feel the powerful deluge of seed swarm your body, gushing out and down your center. You feel like you’ve been hit by a semi-truck, limbs trembling and aching as you lay lifeless under him, gasping for air.

A glare of red light makes you wince, eyes straining against the light to see Dante devolve to his human form, dripping so much sweat it’s like he jumped in a pool. Dropping your ankles, he pushes himself between your legs and plants a sloppy, loving kiss on your mouth, hands threading in your hair. You kiss back weakly, shaky hands holding onto his arms. Pulling his head back, he examines you for any serious injuries, eyes conveying a battle of concern and satisfaction.

“You okay? Hurt? Was it too much? God, sorry- sorry, I-“

“Dante, I’m fine,” you let out a wavering chuckle, sitting up slightly. “That was…incredible. You were incredible.”

Dante meets your eyes again with a surprised laugh, in disbelief you’re praising him in a state like this. His fingers trail down to the bites along the outside of your thighs, vaguely recalling how your skin felt between his fangs in his primal craze. He remains plugged inside you, the intimate mixture of releases leaking between your bodies.

“Look at you…” Dante traces along a more gnarly mark in admiration, blood trickling over his finger. “How’d I get so damn lucky, huh?”

He brings his fingers to his lips and sucks off the blood, that all-too-familiar teasing gleam in his eyes as they lock on yours. A throaty moan leaves him as he swallows, fingers falling away with a string of spit. The scene goes straight down to your heat, walls closing around on him with need. Sitting all the way up, you grab his hand and playfully nip at his wrist, dilated eyes devoted to memorizing him in this moment.

“Can we go again?”

“Again?” Dante laughs, raising both eyebrows at you. “Honey, I don’t think th-“

“Please,” you pout at him, kissing along his hand til you can slip two of his fingers between your lips. Dante’s jaw goes slack, a heady breath fanning over your face as his cock twitches inside you from your plea. With a hard swallow, he nods, free hand cupping your face.

“Fiiiiine,” he sighs out, putting on a show of dramatics before a smile tugs at his lips. “Flip over for me, princess.”

[filthygalli]

When I met you: Chapter 1 “Package”

Fem! Reader x Neighbor! Hwang In-Ho

Main Master list

Squid Game Master list

Genre/Tags: Grumpy x Sunshine, Light smut, Fluff, Angst, Slow burn, Age gap (Reader is in her early 30’s, While In-Ho is in his late 40’s.) Rude In-Ho (but will eventually be soft with the reader Soon!) Literature Professor! In-Ho (Not specified what kind of literature) More Tags to come soon!

Warnings: Rude In-Ho, Some mild cursing, In-Ho’s stubborn cat Lmao, Not proof read so please bear with me.

Word Count: 1989

Author's Note: I've been writing this since earlier this morning, I was so intrigued about the song and I can't help but think 'Why not do a fiction story about In-Ho using this song as an inspiration?' then here am I, publishing the first chapter of the said fiction, I'll try to make this a long series! 🖤

< Series Master list | Next >

You worked as a graphic designer for some big company, even though you worked from home—you enjoyed what you were doing; you're a person who doesn't like to interact with so many people, except your friends, family, or someone who's close to you.

You've been working as a graphic designer for 3 years. You've gained enough money to buy a house—it's perfect for you, 2 bedrooms with one bathroom each—a cozy living room, kitchen, and a backyard that you turned into a garden. But honestly, it's too much for what you do for a living, but again, you're more than grateful.

You visit your hometown once in a while to spend some time with your parents and friends; you're more than happy to have them support you in the path that you chose. Whenever you visit, your mom always cooks your favorite dishes, while your dad, well…he always teases you about settling down. Honestly, seeing yourself being in a relationship is crazy; you're a busy person, and you're afraid that you might end up with someone who's not fit for your job and likings.

“Sweetheart, it's just…you're too devoted to your job. I know you hate it every time I tell you about this, but there's someone out there for you—who’s going to understand your busy days.” Your dad gave you a comforting look. It's true, you're too devoted to what you're doing, and you can't even go out on a date without making an ‘excuse’ that you're busy and something has come up, but the truth is…you're just afraid. Afraid that no one will love you for being a busy person, and it sucks.

You gave your dad a shy smile. “I know... I just think that it's not the right time; he'll come when the time is right.”

And that's where your grumpy neighbor showed up. He's tall; he looked old and surprisingly handsome for someone his age. He knocked on your door one night. You were reading a book called ‘Inferno' by Dante Alighieri. You're so intrigued by what you're reading that you didn't even hear that someone was knocking at your door. You hurriedly put down your book and ran towards the door. You swung the door open, seeing a middle-aged man who's wearing a black button-up shirt and black chino pants. He pushed up his glasses. 

“Are you deaf or something? I've been knocking since forever.” He annoyingly said, “Good evening to you too.” You said giving him your best fake smile, “I think we switched packages, These aren't mine.” He said, bringing up the two packages in his hand, “Oh…I didn't know–” he cuts you off before even finishing your sentence “of course you don't.” He whispered under his breath, “I'll…I'll go get yours I'll be back in a sec.” You said as you took your package in his hand as you slammed your door shut right at his face.

You sigh as you close the door, feeling embarrassed by your actions. ‘He deserves it,’ you thought. You went to your room and grabbed the unopened package; you checked the name, making sure it's not really yours.

“Hwang In-Ho…” you read the name on the parcel, liking how his name sounds. 

You went downstairs and opened the door, seeing the man leaning against your porch railing. “Thank God, what took you so long?” he groans. He leans forward as he slowly walks towards you; he looks down on you and rudely takes the package from your grasp. You're stunned at his action but manage to say something: “I'm sorry, Mr. Hwang, it won't happen again. Have a good evening.” You said, giving him a shy smile; his eyes softened upon hearing his name. “Right, good evening to you too,” he said as he turned around and walked towards his home.

You noticed his reaction when you said his name; was he expecting you to say it?

Did you catch him off guard? You just chuckled to yourself and closed the door behind you as you walked to your bedroom to continue reading your book.

Meanwhile, In-Ho sat on his couch, staring at the package that he set down on his coffee table, ‘Hwang In-Ho,’ he read in his mind. He scoffed; of course you would know his name; it's written on the damn parcel. He groans as he palms his face, “Fuck,” he grumbles. He quickly gets his mind off of you, on how good your voice sounds saying his name, the way you would give him a shy and innocent glance even though he's being rude to you. He finds it cute. But at the same time, he feels bad—but deep down he doesn't care; you're just another annoying neighbor that would give him nothing but pure hatred. 

The next day

You woke up holding a book in your hand. Great, you fell asleep again. You sigh as you sit up, lightly scratching your eyes as you yawn, making you stretch your arms in the air, groaning in response. You went to the bathroom and took a warm shower, getting ready for today.

In-Ho groans in his sleep, and as his alarm clock goes on, making him reach for his phone to turn it off, he sits up, grabbing his glasses as he goes to the bathroom to brush his teeth. He went to the kitchen to make his morning coffee, a classic Americano. The aroma of the coffee beans filled the air; it made him feel alive. He sighed as he poured his fresh brewed coffee into his mug. 

You went out from the shower, drying yourself off before putting on comfortable shorts and a t-shirt. You went to the kitchen to make your morning coffee. You and In-Ho brew your coffees the same; you both like black coffee. Some may hate it because of the bitter taste, but the difference between you and In-Ho is that In-Ho doesn't put sweetener in his coffee; he just likes pure black coffee, while you… you drink your coffee with 2 tablespoons of sugar in it.

You went outside to sit on the bench on your porch while you drank your coffee as you held your book in your right hand. You like doing this every morning; it's calm and peaceful. Not until In-Ho walks by your house do you watch him walk by; it looks like he just woke up too. He's wearing a dark blue t-shirt and comfortable pants—a pair of loafers too. You can't help but notice how fit he is, how his biceps fit on the sleeve of his shirt, how broad his shoulder is. Before you could think of anything, you snapped yourself out of it as you noticed that he's holding a leash... of a cat? You smiled as you saw In-Ho’s black cat. The fur of his cat is gorgeous. It was unexpected to see In-Ho with a pet cat. After your interaction with him last night, you somewhat thought of him as a person who doesn't care about anyone except himself…and, well, his cat too. 

You didn't notice that you've been looking at In-Ho for a while, he looks at your direction as he adjusts his glasses, god he looks so good with those glasses…you blushed and felt a little embarrassed, you pretend to read and quickly drink your coffee, Meanwhile, In-Ho chuckled at your reaction—He somewhat finds himself admiring you, the way you had your hair into a messy bun, the way your t-shirt hugged all your curves, your soft skin…he wondered how would your skin feels like under his touch, he imagined you lightly shivering upon his touch, he snapped himself from thinking something else as his cat, Yu-jin, leading him to your porch, he tried to pull his cat away but Yu-jin decided to be stubborn and ran towards your porch making your eyes widen, you smiled at In-Ho’s reaction—he’s shocked and decided to let his cat Yu-Jin walks towards you, usually his cat doesn't really care about people, just like him. 

“Aren't you a cute little one—!” You crouched in front of In-Ho's cat, who seemed happy to see a new person besides his dad, In-Ho. The cat purred and circled around your legs. “That's odd,” In-Ho mumbled. “Odd? ” You looked up at In-Ho, who's looking at his cat still circling around your legs. “He never does that to other people,” he said coldly, not even bothering to look at you. “Oh—maybe he likes me! ” You said, ruffling the cat's fur as he lay on his back, making you rub its belly, “He's so precious—what’s his name? ” You again looked at In-Ho, who was looking at you but quickly glanced away and said, “Yu-jin.” “Yu-jin…” you tested the cat's name on your lips, “It's cute—Hi, Yu-Jin! ” You cupped the cat's face. “He's so adorable, In-Ho—” You looked at In-Ho, who gave you a look as he looked down on you, still crouching in front of him. ‘Fuck,’ he thought. “How did you know my name? ” He mumbled, so low it almost sounded like a whisper, “What?” “Forget it.” He said as he crouched down, picking up Yu-Jin in his arms, making his hands slightly brush yours. You took a glance at his hands; they're so beautiful. The veins in his hands looked attractive; it felt so smooth against yours… He also smells like coffee, your favorite coffee.

And just like that he left without even saying anything, leaving you crouching down on your porch. You sighed as you stood up, grabbing your book and your coffee before going inside the house.

In-Ho puts down Yu-Jin far enough from your house. “That's new…you've never been like that to anyone,” he said as if Yu-Jin could understand what he was saying. They went to a vet, to check up on Yu-Jin, In-Ho treats his cat like his own child, Going to a vet at least once a week, vet means new toy for Yu-Jin, And let's not forget the treats that Yu-Jin would get on the way home, But not that he doesn't want a kid or whatever, he just never really thought of falling in love, he thinks that being in love with someone takes so much time and energy, He also thinks that no one would put up with his attitude and stubbornness—he’s also a professor, a busy one, he doesn't even bother to flirt back with his colleagues at the University who's been hitting on him since he stepped foot in that university, perhaps Yu-Jin is the only one who he needs to go through with everyday. 

While waiting for Yu-Jin and his vet, he thought of you, “Damn it.” He whispered to himself. He remembered how your face looked when you were crouching down. In front of him while playing with Yu-Jin. How beautiful your smile is; he wonders how old you are, what you do for a living, but he also remembered having a book on the bench on your porch. He tried to remember what book it is, but the book cover looks familiar. He grabbed his phone and searched for something: Dante Alighieri’s book. He pressed the search button, and multiple books of the said author showed up, but he managed to find that book that you're reading earlier. ‘Inferno,’ he thought; he couldn't help but smile to himself. It's his favorite book; it's one of the reasons that he teaches as a literature professor. He's not expecting someone like you would be reading a book like this; it surprised him. He can't help but regret being rude to you; you're such a kind and gentle person. He thought of at least being nice with you—just enough for you and him to have a good relationship with each other as neighbors.

Author's Note: Omg I wasn't expecting to publish a fiction regardless of me panicking about my first semester school works—But please let me know what you think, I would really like to make this a big series. I love In-Ho/Byung Hun so much he's way too precious! Let me know if you want to be in my taglist. 🖤

[randofics]

Pain and Warmth pt.1

🎶 The Midnight- Vampires

🎶 Deftones- Beauty School (slowed + reverb)

Dante Sparda x F reader

Warnings: mentions of blood, details of menstrual cycle, medication usage, L-word

Link to Dante x F reader Headcannons

16+

18+ if you squint

I finished the entire first season in 2 days, yall! I also get that it's not lore accurate in some aspects, but it's not really supposed to be. It's the director and wrighters interpretation. While I personally have never played the games, I did watch someone play a few years ago, along with watching the other anime adaptation (which I love dearly). Hopefully, I did this adaptation justice in this fic.

----------

As you walked to Dantes, place your cramps were getting serious. You'd have to take some ibuprofen when you got there. You huffed and puffed, trying to breathe through the pain as you finally made it to his doorstep.

You knock without much effort before just opening the door to let yourself in. You force out his name and hear his snoring stop with a snort.

As you pass the threshold into the room, he greets you. "Hey y/n! How's it going..." He trails off when he sees you. You're a bit unsteady on your feet, still panting with droopy eyes and your glasses slipping down your nose.

You cross the room to his side before he gets up, and you set your bag on the desk, pulling out your medicine bag. Taking an ibuprofen from the bottle, you pop it in your mouth and steal his soda from the desk to swallow it down. "Hey, that's my soda!"

"You give him a glare he's never seen on you before that shuts him up." He puts his hands up as he props his feet on the desk behind you again. You look at him analyzing something which he tilts his head at. "What is it?"

Suddenly, you're sitting in his lap, and he freezes as you lay against his chest. "What the hell are you doing!?"

"Ibuprofen won't work right away. Need warmth to stem the pain." Your shortened phrasing gives tell of the level of pain you're in. Suddenly, you grab his hand and slip it into the top of your pants, laying it over your abdomen. You sigh when the heat soakes into your skin.

He blushes, looking anywhere but at you. This is all so sudden! Are you in so much pain that you don't even care that it's HIM you're sitting on with HIS hand pressed against your bare skin!? He's freaking out internally. But suddenly, there's a scent in his nose. It's unmistakable yet tinged with something unfamiliar.

"You're bleeding... why are you bleeding!?"

You hiss and growl at him when he jostles you. Giving him an even more intense glare. "Stay still, Dante... or I swear I'll tear you to shreds."

"But why are you bleeding!?"

You sigh, not wanting to keep wasting energy on speaking. "I'm on my menstrual cycle."

"Ok, yeah, I forgot about that. But why do I smell so much?"

"I'm a heavy bleeder. It's normal for me."

"Shouldn't you get checked out for that, though? That doesn't seem normal to me."

"I'll schedule an appointment soon. Quit talking, I need sleep."

-------

By the time you've fallen asleep, Dante is bored out of his mind. He's already counted the cracks in the walls when there's a nock on the door. Enzo comes waltzing in.

"Hey Dante, I've got a..." Dante puts his finger to his lips with wide eyes frantically shushing him. Enzo spots you in his lap and gives Dante a knowing grin.

Dante mouths to him. "It's not like that, dude! She just jumped me!" He tries to free his other hand, but you grab hold of it, keeping it against your skin. A wave of pain hits you and you hiss. Opening your eyes, you look over at Enzo.

"Enzo my bag, please." He rounds the desk, handing you your bag, which you rummage through for another pill. "Soda." He holds it out for you, and you swallow the pill with another sip.

"Thank you, Enzo. Can you do me another favor, please?"

"Oh sure! What do ya need?"

"Call in a Subnautica Subs order for me. Italian bread with lettuce, spinach, provolone, ham, and mayo. You want anything, Dante?"

"Uh yeah, just get me the meat lover's sub."

"Dante can call you later about the job."

"How did you...?"

"Figured that's why you're here. That's usually why."

"Fair enough. See you two lovebirds later!"

You growl, but don't bother wasting your energy in retort. Dante yells after him. "I told you it's not like that!" The door clicks shut behind him.

You let out a groan, bringing his attention back to you. "I need to get up to use the restroom, but I don't wanna." He can hear the pout in your voice, and he lets a chuckle slip.

"You want me to carry you there?

"Please do." The slight bags under your eyes tell him just how drained you are as he frees his hand to scoop you up. You grab your bag on the way by.

He lets you down at the door, and you let out another uncomfortable sound, screwing your face up in a grimace.

"What is it?"

"The floodgates opened, so to speak."

He grimaced, too. "I'll wait out here for you."

"Ok, thanks, Dante."

-------

He pushes off the wall when you finally open the door. "Took a while. You ok?"

"Yeah, I had a lot of blood to clean up." As you walk past, the strong scent hits his nose along with your attempt to cover it with air freshener.

A nock on the door catches your attention. You're about to go answer it when Dante joggs past you. "Go sit down. I'll get it." You huff but a small smile cracks through your pained/irritated expression. The delivery guy hands him a bag from the restaurant. Dante hands him a few dollars and closes the door.

When he walks back into the room, he cracks a grin at you sitting in his chair. "Stealing my spot now, huh?"

"Hey, you just said to sit. You didn't specify where."

"Fair enoug.h. Here's yours." He sits against the desk beside you as he unwraps his sub, taking a bite. "Dat ibuwpofin wokin?"

You snort. "Yeah, I'm feeling a bit better now. And don't take such big bites you'll choke on it."

By the time he's finished with his, you're only halfway through yours. "Ya'know you're a real slow eater."

"Yes, I know. I prefer to savor the flavor than scarf it all down at once." You give him a pointed look. "You made a mess of yourself too." You stand boxing him in between you and the desk. "Hold still." You grip his jaw and, with your other hand, wipe the sauce from his mouth licking your thumb clean, and he glanced away.

Dante watches you put your wrapped up sub in the mini fridge. Totally not eyeing your rear before you turn back to him. He sits back in his chair, watching your fingers work circles into the skin of your lower back as your shirt rides up.

You move back over to him, and he thinks you're gonna sit across his lap like before. Instead, you straddle him. "Woah, woah, woah, what are you doing!?"

"Sittin' in your lap again."

"You-you shouldn't be straddling me!"

Wrapping your arms around his neck, you nuzzle into him. His muscles tense under you as he bites his lip, your body pressing into his. The heat from his lower stomach seeps into your abdomen.

-------

For a while, he just sits there holding his hands up awkwardly, not wanting to touch you without permission. Your voice muffled in his neck, startles him. "You can touch me, ya'know."

"Heh... I didn't want to assume." He gently lays his hands on your back.

As the time ticks by slowly, his hands start to rub circles into your back. When he adds more pressure, you practically melt into him. "A bit lower, please." He does as asked, remembering where you had massaged yourself earlier.

You let out a quiet gasp, gripping the back of his coat collar.

His hands freeze. "You ok?"

"I'm fine, keep going."

Pressing his fingers into your skin again, gently moving in circles. He sets his chin on your shoulder, letting his eyes close as he listens to your breathing.

The little pain left slowly seeps away as his fingers work across your muscles. You hold in any sounds that try to escape as you relax in his embrace.

This is probably the safest place in the world. The halfbreed demon hunter being one of the few things on earth capable of mass destruction should he choose it. And he's got you wrapped up in those demon killing arms with hands that can break bone being used to gently ease the pain in your back.

A wave of arousal washes over you. Those dang hormones surging through your body as you expel your uterine lining. You bite your lip as your mind races. What would it feel like to kiss him? Or have him kiss up your neck, leaving marks in his wake?

What if you kissed his neck right now? Would he be ok with it, or would he hate you for it?

Maybe you could just start slow? Just nuzzle under his chin.

You do just that, taking off your glasses and placing them on the desk behind you. You hook your nose under his jaw, closing your eyes as your breath tickles his neck.

His breath hitches in his throat at the feeling of your breath on his skin. You pull back just enough for him to see your eyes. They're lidded and glazed over with a familiar look. He turns bright red swallowing hard.

You trail your hands down to his chest, giving him a peck on the cheek. "Getting bashful on me darlin'?" He gives you a nervous grin. Leaning back down, you place a gentle kiss on his neck.

You feel his hands slip down to your hips, and his thumbs press into the sides of your abdomen, making you wince. "Easy big boy, I'm still sore." Suddenly, he moves a hand to your face, making you look at him. In a flash, his lips are on yours. You're stunned for a moment before your eyes slip closed, and you grip the hair at the back of his head.

Your heart races in your chest. You can't believe this is actually happening! The seconds go by before he pulls away, both of you panting for breath. He gives you a calculating look before his lips press into your neck, one hand on the back of your head and the other pushing beneath your shirt. You feel the fabric of his gloves scratch against you.

A small sound escapes your throat as his mouth moves across your skin. Tilting your head back for him, you pull his white locks. He sucks on your pulse, likely to leave a mark. Your back arching into him as a moan bubbles up from your throat. His hands move to your thighs, and he picks you up, making you yelp.

"Wh-what are you doing, Dante?"

"Taking you to bed so you can rest some more. Don't worry. We can have a bit more fun before we hit the hay."

This time, you blush. "But I'm still bleeding."

"We aren't gonna do that. Not that I wouldn't be down for it either way..."

You blush like a tomato. Normally, guys gag at the thought of messing around when a woman's on her period. Then again, Dante's used to blood so it wouldn't bother him as much.

-------

He closes the door behind you with his boot and lays you down gently on the bed with your head on the pillow. "Just relax and let me do all the work." You give him a nod. "Good girl." He pulls off his gloves with his teeth and slips the grey Henley over his head.

As he settles in, pushing his face into your neck, you run your fingers through his hair, scratching his scalp. A pleasured groan rumbles in his throat. You feel his tongue slide across your throat, making you gasp.

His hand gently caresses over your stomach, leaving a tingling sensation in his wake. You feel his hand slip under your wasteband and around to your lower back. His fingertips press into your muscles, gently moving in circles to ease their tension. You let out a pleasured sigh, arching your back a bit.

He shifts his weight so his other hand can slip behind your upper back beneath your shirt. You feel your bra pop open, releasing tension in your back and shoulders. You let a content purr escape your lips.

"I bet that feels better, doesn't it?" His voice a low rumble in your ear makes a shiver run up your spine. He can feel the muscles twitch under his fingertips. "Good, that's all I want right, now baby." He presses featherlight kisses all across your neck and lips before moving to your stomach.

More light kisses press into your skin as you relax and enjoy his touch. His teal eyes lock with yours as he pulls down your waistband just to the top of your pubic hair. With his thumbs, he gently presses into your abdomen. "Tell me where it's most tender." He moves his thumbs inward towards the center of your abdomen.

When they graze over your ovaries and uterus, you feel a twinge of pain. "Right there, huh? Alright, I'll be gentle. Tell me if it hurts." He presses in and moves in circles only to stop when you tet out a hiss in pain. "Too much?" You mumble to him. "Ok, I won't do that again. You're just way too sore there, baby."

You sit up and move to the side of the bed. "What are you doing?"

"Taking these pants off. The waistband is putting pressure on my abdomen. I also gotta take off this bra."

"Thought you were leaving for a second."

"Not after that massage you gave me."

He pouts with a hand over his heart. "Is that all I am to you!?"

Shucking off your pants, you scoot closer to him. With a hand on his jaw, you place your forehead against his. When you lock eyes with him, you smile. "I love you, Dante." His eyes widen, mouth agape.

"You-you love me?"

"Yes, honey, I love you."

He lets out a breathy chuckle of disbelief as he processes the revelation. His cocky facade cracking as overwhelming emotions burst forth. Tears glint in his eyes as he gives you the happiest smile you've ever seen on him, holding your face in his hands.

"I-I love you too! You're the best thing that's ever happened to me!" Tears of your own drip down your cheeks as you pepper his face with kisses. You lock lips again in a kiss full of emotion and genuine love for each other.

When you pull away to breathe, he hugs you tight, and you slip your arms around him in turn. He lets go sliding one hand down your arm to hold yours while the other wipes away his tears. You both sniffle, and you can't help the yawn that overtakes you.

"Getting sleepy again?" You nod and turn your attention back to the bra you need to remove. Dante watches as you pull it from your shirt like a magic trick. "You gotta show me how you do that trick with your bra sometime."

You roll your eyes. Always so romantic. A chuckle tumbles from your mouth. He grins and lays down on the bed. "Here lay down on me, I'll massage you some more."

"I don't want to leak on you, though. Or the sheets."

"In my line of work, I get blood on stuff all the time. Trust me, it's not that big a deal if it does happen. Im practically an expert at cleaning bloodtains at this point." His reassurance soothes your worries, and you straddle him again, laying against him with your hands on his bare chest and your ear over his heart.

You notice right away that it's beating a bit fast, he's nervous. His hands land on your back, and he pulls up your shirt to reach your skin. The firm circle motion of his fingers, making your muscles relax against him. Sleep begins to weigh your eyelids down as the soothing and strong beating of his heart lulls you to sleep.

Within minutes, your breathing slows, and you're completely relaxed against him. He pulls the blanket over the both of you as he begins to feel sleepy himself. "I'm the luckiest man on Earth to have a woman like you."

With his arms wrapped protectively around you, his eyes slip closed, and for the first time in a while, he has a great night's sleep.

[xo2dee]

🗨️ SCRUFF

PAIRING: Dante/(Fem)Reader. WARNINGS: Fluff. WORD COUNT: 2,286. SUMMARY: 'Sunday Reset' days were your favorite, especially when you got your boyfriend involved in the routine. Or: You shave Dante's face.

A/N: i cant believe it took me so long to write for dante.. after all i loved him before vergil then ultimately left him for his older brother JAKSNDF. anyways i had dmc4 - dmc5 dante in mind writing it, hence the beard and growing hair but pls enjoy!

DMC MASTERLIST

‘Sunday Reset’ days were your new favorite thing.

There was a simplicity behind it that made you cozy, all the way from waking up that morning warm beneath your comforter to the idea of climbing back into bed later that night freshly showered and rubbing your legs together like a cricket with shaved legs and washed sheets. The pay off after spending all day cleaning, and decluttering to taking the dreaded (but loved) ‘Everything’ showers and then being able to go to bed that night after feeling completely accomplished and productive before you prepared for the oncoming week was a satisfaction and fulfillment on another level. And fuck, was it a chore… considering where you lived and who you had to room with, but what nothing was ever impossible once you’d put your mind to it.

And you also managed to get your boyfriend into the tradition as well.

Your half-demon, half-human boyfriend named Dante who ran an ‘Exorcist’ shop on the front, but really he was out purging any demons who’d crawled their way up out of Hell and were becoming a danger to human life. So… it was a little jarring to settle into a more… mundane setting with him once you’d learned what you had learned. Dante, however, had zero qualms about adjusting you into his life.

Moving in with Dante had been easy on its own (since him leaving Devil May Cry as whole really was out of the question), it was you having to adjust to living there that took some time. You could look past the boxes of pizza and Chinese takeouts since they could be thrown away (and maybe even the posters on his walls… maybe), but getting used to the… demonic possessions on the walls that you swore watched you every time you were in the room was something else entirely. But you made it work, you were no quitter when it came to the love of your life and his weird eccentricities around the place.

Or when he snored loud enough to wake you from sleep.

A sigh broke out of your chest once you shut the dryer door, hefting the hamper full of clean sheets and pillowcases up to take upstairs as your comforter finally dried. It was nearing the end of the day, and you could shower all the grime off of you and probably spend an hour in said shower doing everything you wanted to do before curling up in bed using Dante’s bicep as a pillow. It made you put a little extra pep in your step as the end of the day neared, ready to get the bed made and cozy as you went to sleep feeling accomplished.

As you walked past the open bathroom door on the way up the stairs, you stopped in your tracks. Dante was standing in front of the mirror with shaving cream lathered over his face, and in his hand he held a small razor you knew his ass got from a gas station somewhere saying, “It’ll do.” in the process. It irked you to know you’d gotten him an actual straight razor (and that it was in one of the drawers of the cabinet as well) and hadn’t made any use of it, instead using cheap disposable razors to tame the wild stubble what grew on his face way too fast for a normal person. Then again, he wasn’t normal anyways… Hence why he needed to use an actual razor rather than a cheap fifty cents one.

You almost groaned imagining the razor bumps you’d feel on your skin from his cheeks.

“Please tell me you’re not using a Bic, Dante?”

His hand stopped, the tip of the razor lying against his cheek as he shot you a confused look, “What else am I gonna use?”

Balancing the hamper on your hip you reached in far enough to pull open a drawer and, lo and behold, there was the razor you’d gotten him. Unused and probably as sharp as ever too. You cocked an eyebrow up while giving it a pointed look, “An actual razor?”

“Bah,” he waved you off, a slab of shaving cream falling onto his collarbone as he resumed the position he had before. You watched skeptical as Dante began to try and shave – key word: try as you could practically hear the blade struggling and scratching against his skin to cut off the thick hairs along his jawline. As usual, Dante paid it no mind, “These get the job done if you press down hard enough.”

And yet, you could still see parts of his beard uneven and not shaved when he swiped away the shaving cream while admiring his jaw in the mirror. At the rate he was moving, you’d be rubbing your cheek against sandpaper and waking up with tiny scratches on your face.

Sighing you dropped the hamper at your feet and moved into the bathroom, Dante moving back far enough for you to squeeze yourself in between him and the sink. He almost looked smug watching you do it, something you filed away for another time to pester him about, instead holding out your hand to him, “Gimme.”

One his eyebrows rose, yet he still passed the razor into your hand despite the doubt, “What, are you gonna shave me?”

Tossing the razor into the trash you ignored his little “Hey!”, choosing to swipe the razor from the drawer instead as you flicked it open and snickered when Dante audibly swallowed, “Why not? Don’t trust me?”

His hands raised in a gesture of placation, and you took that moment to jump onto the counter behind you so you had a better leverage of actually being able to shave Dante. You patted your knee once you were settled, Dante’s hands coming forward to clutch the counter next to your thighs as his arms caged you in where you sat before you reached for the shaving cream to lather more onto your hands for his face. A long exhale passed through him as his chin tilted upwards, a strong urge to gently caress his Adam’s Apple in your mind’s eye before you pushed it away, instead basking in his warmth at the closeness and rubbing your fingers along his jawline.

A low hum vibrated out of his throat, “Have you actually ever shaved a beard before?” he asked after a moment, eyes heavy as he watched you lather more shaving cream along his face. Briefly, you wondered if he was trying to pry information out of you to see if you’d shaved another man’s beard before.

You laughed at the thought, a bit of pride in you at the idea of getting Dante slightly jealous but brushed it away as you cleansed your hands of any residue before moving the razor to his jawline, “No, but I shave my legs.”

Dante snorted, closing his eyes as you began to slowly shave along his jawline, “Sometimes. Other times I wake up and your leg hairs are tickling me.”

You couldn’t help to gape at him, rolling your eyes and almost reminding him that his legs were some of the hairiest you’d ever seen. It was like waking up with Chewbacca in your damn bed, especially when Dante had an affinity of throwing his leg over your hip in the dead of his sleep and you could practically feel every single hair brushing against yours. You shaved another part of his face, his chin, as you hooked your foot at the bend of his knee to pull him closer, “Telling me this while I have a razor to your face is pretty bold.”

The breathy laugh nearly shook you, Dante’s knuckles beginning to tap a rhythm into the counter as you continued to shave him, “I’ve faced worse of your fury.”

You snickered as you finished up on his face and wiped the razor clean, pressing a finger underneath his chin and gesturing upwards, “Chin up, handsome.”

He followed your words without any fuss, and you couldn’t help but feel the tension in air scald and sizzle for a moment whenever the blade passed by his jugular. His deep swallow and the way he leaned into you made your lips purse, the fresh smell of him straight out a shower intoxicating and you could briefly see the glistening beads of water along his chest he missed wiping himself dry. The absence of Dante throughout the day while you cleaned something you mourned and your body was beginning to react to how close he was in a way a more primal side of you spurred on. The heat in the tight room sweltered when you remembered the task at hand, peeking up at Dante and sighing in relief that his eyes remained closed and he began to look like he was nodding off.

You wouldn’t be surprised. The slightest twirl of his hair around your finger made him sleepy.

The slight noise of cutting through his hair was satisfying your ears in a way you couldn’t describe as you took great pride in watching the hair slide off so easily and the shaving cream with it. You were also beginning to think that maybe you should’ve used the straight razor before on your legs to avoid stray spots you missed and the dreaded bumps along your legs before deciding that accidentally cutting yourself wasn’t worth it. You didn’t need Dante wondering why all the towels and rags had your blood all over them and him just sniffing the smell out entirely.

A blink made you realize you’d been absentmindedly shaving Dante, hoping you hadn’t accidentally nicked him in the process and sighing once you realized he was scotch free and only a slight shadow was beginning to remain on his face. He sighed longingly, his fingers moving to clutch the fabric of your leggings at your hips, “You’re actually pretty good at this. Maybe I can getcha to be my barber instead…”

You snorted, pressing your fingers onto his Adam’s Apple before rubbing it, “You don’t even have a barber, but maybe I should because cutting your hair with your sword isn’t good for it.”

A distorted, low rumble vibrated your fingers along his throat, a small grin creasing his face as his eyes opened a fraction – sleepy and content. “I’ve never done that…” A pause and he laughed at your expression, “Okay, maybe once but I was young. Cut me some slack, babe.”

You could imagine it – Dante’s shaggy locks uneven and chopped from the way he sliced them with his sword, a tongue peeking out of his lips as he did so while concentrating and trying to make his hair look as good as possible for someone cutting it themselves. Your imagination ended with either Trish or Lady walking in on him, sighing heavily at his ordeal and then leaving him to his own devices as you held back a laugh. Though, props to Dante, if he was still cutting his hair himself (or lack of actually, the more you noted how long it was getting) he was doing a much better job. Now, only if you could find the scissors he uses…

Moments later, Dante’s face was fully shaven and you noted that he was already beginning to show signs of it growing back as fast as it could. You could only internally sigh, blaming those demonic genes as you sat the razor down with a triumphant expression, “There, done.”

His eyes blinked numerous times, shaking the sleep from them as you leaned to the side a fraction to let him inspect himself in the mirror. One of his hands raised to hold his jaw, moving his head left and right as he admired himself and the job you had done, “Niceeee, I knew you’d do a good job,” a cheeky grin was thrown at you as he winked, “You gotta future here.”

“I knew you’d do a good job”, and then his little goofy, smug smirk when you barged into the bathroom to take over. You bit the inside of your cheek to keep from grinning, “Was this all your elaborate plan to get me to shave your beard for you?”

Dante shrugged while untangling himself from you, yet clearly caught as he began to wash his face again and patting it dry afterwards, “Who’s to say? A man likes to be pampered now and then…” He rolled up the towel he used and then lightly swatted your leg, making you laugh as you ripped it out of his grasp and smacked his arm with it before having a brief tug-of-war with it.

“I’m sure he does…” you teased, jumping down from your perch as he tossed the towel in the hamper full of dirty clothes. You passed by him with a kiss to his shoulder, picking the hamper back up before turning to him with stern look, “Now, moisturize your face and I’ll see you in bed.” And it wasn’t even like Dante needed to moisturize, his skin was practically flawless any and all times no matter what he did while you had to battle pores and acne most of the time.

As you walked away, you could hear him sigh before opening the mirror where said skin care products were kept, “Yeah, yeah, the collagen jelly cream when I’m done, right?”

“Yes!” you called, stopping halfway on the stairs for another reminder that had slipped your mind, “And don’t forget to put a facemask on before you get in bed!”

The moan you heard made you stifle a laugh, walking back up to the bedroom as Dante’s defeated tone slipped into your ears.

“Please… not again.”

[yohanisnothere]

Elite dinner with Dante—except with him teasing you under the table

Synopsis: You and Dante are invited to an extravagant dinner hosted by a high-ranking noble who owes the both of you big for saving his ass from a demon attack in his private estate.

Pairings: Dante x F! Reader

Warning: NSFW, SMUTTT

Content warning: Public/semi-public sexual acts (under the table during a formal dinner), explicit descriptions of sexual intercourse (bathroom sex, mirror play), vulgar language and lewd dialogue, dom/sub dynamics (light restraint, dirty talk, hair pulling)

✮ ⋆ ˚｡𖦹 ⋆°°✩✮ ⋆ ˚｡𖦹 ⋆°°✩✮ ⋆ ˚｡𖦹 ⋆°°✩✮ ⋆ ˚｡

It starts with his hand resting on your thigh. Just casual. Harmless. Then it slides higher, fingers slipping beneath the slit of your elegant dress. He leans in close, voice barely a whisper by your ear.

"You know I hate these things... but you're making it a lot more interesting."

You gasp softly when his fingers brush the edge of your panties. He chuckles low, thumb rubbing slow circles over the damp fabric. It’s soaked already, heat pooling as his teasing grows bolder. He drags the material aside, slipping two fingers in deep without warning.

Your back straightens instantly, but Dante masks it by pretending to refill your wine. His fingers curl just right inside you, stroking your walls with sinful precision. He’s grinning, like this is all a game. The tablecloth hides your trembling thighs, your hands clenched in your lap, trying not to let anyone hear the slick sounds of his fingers pumping into your soaked pussy.

He grazes your clit with his thumb, smirking when your breath catches. The pressure makes your clit throb wildly, aching for more. It’s too much and not enough.

"You’re dripping," he murmurs, voice thick with lust. "You want me that bad in front of all these people?"

You can barely nod.

Then, he pulls his fingers out slow, dragging your slick across your inner thigh just to tease, then he licks his fingers clean with a hum of approval. Still keeping his cool, Dante stands up.

"Excuse me," he says casually to the table. "I think I tore something in my jacket. Gonna need her help with it."

Everyone barely looks up. You follow him, heart hammering.

✮ ⋆ ˚｡𖦹 ⋆°°✩✮ ⋆ ˚｡𖦹 ⋆°°✩✮ ⋆ ˚｡𖦹 ⋆°°✩✮ ⋆ ˚｡

The door to the bathroom shuts and clicks locked. You barely have time to catch your breath before Dante spins you around and yanks your hips toward the sink. He presses your front against the cool marble, his body crowding yours from behind.

“That needy little pussy’s been crying for me all night,” he growls by your ear, grabbing your chin to make you look up.

The mirror reflects your flushed face, your dress bunched around your waist, and Dante towering behind you, his eyes full of fire.

You smirk, trying to tease. “Who said I wanted you to do anything about it?”

But your voice betrays you. It's breathless. Desperate. A shaky little whimper escapes when his fingers trace down your folds again, and he chuckles.

“Yeah? Then why are you dripping down your thighs like a girl in heat?”

You bite your lip, watching in the mirror as he lowers his zipper, freeing his thick cock, already flushed, leaking, slick with your mess from earlier. He rubs the tip through your folds, letting your slick coat him.

“Dante,” you whisper, your hips pushing back instinctively, needing more friction.

“Say it louder.” He slaps the head of his cock against your clit, making you gasp out loud.

“Fuck—Dante, please. I need you.”

That’s all he needs.

He sinks into you from behind in one slow, delicious thrust, filling you so deep you feel the pressure bloom in your belly. The stretch makes your mouth fall open, a filthy moan spilling from your lips and echoing against the tiled walls.

The mirror reflects the moment perfectly—your back arched, your lips parted, your eyes fluttering, and Dante, grinning like the devil himself.

“Look at that face,” he growls, snapping his hips hard. “Look at how you melt for me.”

You do. And it drives you crazy.

Your breasts bounce with every thrust, your cunt clenching wet and tight around him. The sound of skin slapping against skin is filthy, mixed with the wet squelch of your slick and the ragged moans tearing from your throat.

“God, you’re so deep,” you whimper, bracing yourself on the sink, your knees buckling. “You feel so fucking good..I can’t... I’m gonna...”

“Yeah? Gonna cum already, baby?” Dante’s voice is rough, breath hot against your neck as he drives into you harder. “You love being bent over for me, stuffed full while you watch yourself get ruined.”

He grabs your hair, tugging your head up so your eyes stay locked on the mirror. “Watch me break you open.”

You sob out a moan, high and trembling as your orgasm crashes over you. Your walls clamp down, squeezing him so tight he growls through his teeth, struggling to hold himself back.

“Oh fuck—Dante—!”

Your legs shake violently, your release soaking both your thighs and his cock. He doesn’t stop, fucking you through it, drawing out every wave of pleasure until your moans dissolve into helpless whimpers.

Then his thrusts stutter, growls turning guttural. “Gonna fill this sweet little pussy, fuck, I’m gonna make you drip for the rest of the damn night.”

He slams into you one last time, holding himself deep as he cums hard, thick ropes of heat spilling into your trembling cunt. You both watch it in the mirror, his teeth gritted, your expression dazed and wrecked.

You gasp, voice hoarse. “That... was not helping you with your clothes.”

He laughs, still catching his breath. “Pretty sure I fixed something.”

He slips out slow, and you both groan at the feeling, his cum already dripping from your swollen folds. He grins at the sight and grabs a hand towel to clean you up, all while kissing the back of your neck.

“You think we can sneak out early?” he asks, zipping up.

You blink at him in the mirror. “You really want them to see me limp out after that?”

He smirks, leaning in for one last kiss.

“Hell yeah.”

✮ ⋆ ˚｡𖦹 ⋆°°✩✮ ⋆ ˚｡𖦹 ⋆°°✩✮ ⋆ ˚｡𖦹 ⋆°°✩✮ ⋆ ˚｡

Here is it guys. My one and only dilf.

[yzzart]

୭˚. ᵎᵎ something more casual, a small scenario between dante x demon hunter!reader.

“who won the last game?” — the question was accompanied by the crack, a shrill and startled noise, of the billiard balls hitting each other; Dante managed, by luck or good play, to pocket two. — “yeah.”

“i’m not so sure, but…” — sitting at the old wooden table, trying to finish cleaning one of your pistols, you prolonged your answer, trying to remember. — “i think it was me.” — you nodded, confirming. — “yeah, it was me.”

Dante let out a murmur, more like a plaintive groan, — perhaps, remembering the previous game — and earned a reprimanding look along with one of your arched eyebrows; the shirtless boy winked, cheekily, at you and curved a cheeky smile on his lips.

“bold.” — stopping your cleaning and choosing to watch your boyfriend play, you rolled your eyes in pure amusement.

“don’t come with those eyes rolling.” — Dante had his back to you, not being able to have a specific view of you, prepared for the shot; it was like a third eye on his back. — “damn, how is that possible?” — ​​the yellow ball almost went into the hole, just a hair away from falling.

your body leaned against the furniture, even though you could easily get off the table to get a better view of the situation. — Dante scratched, messing up his white hair, seeing which tactic was best.

“oh, listen to this one, I just made it up.” — surprising you, and also scaring, Dante exclaims enthusiastically, letting himself be carried away by the animation and humor; you knew what was coming. — “why did the demon get kicked out of the pool hall?”

your boyfriend was in front of you, resting the wooden stick on the floor, exposing a flex in his biceps, besides his necklace shining, highlighted by the glow of the lampshade and the night light coming from the window. — honestly, it seemed like concentrating on your question was the hardest task you had to face.

“i can’t believe you managed to think of a joke in what? 30 seconds?” — he took a few steps in front of you, almost staying between your thighs, waiting for your attempt at an answer. — “i don’t know, big boy, why?” — your hand touched the string of his necklace, then ran down his chest.

“it kept possessing the cue stick to cheat.” — Dante revealed the answer, holding your hand, covering it completely, smiling like a child who had found a candy in his mother's bag; you couldn't resist, soon finding it funny.

Dante's dimples stood out when he heard your laugh, even at something so unfunny — which, in fact, was one of his best, in his opinion — he took your hand and brought it to his lips, letting you.

“shut up, please.”

[strawberrystepmom]

royalty au - knight!dante x princess!reader. established relationship, implied age difference. screenshot thanks to jas over on pinterest <3 | wc: 2.7k, reading time: ~10 minutes

“As you are aware, things of this nature are sharp and dangerous. Not to be played with like little toys.” 

The sun glints off of the honed metal of the skinny training sword resting across Dante’s upward facing palms, the dark leather of his training gloves framing the blade like the moon in the night sky. 

“You’ve given me this same speech each time we’ve come out here.” 

You offer a flat expression to the man holding the weapon, reluctantly dragging your eyes from the tantalizing shimmer of the gift he’s presenting to you toward his face that sports a delighted smile. I

“Yes you have heard it but never about your own sword,” he reminds, tilting his head to the side and raising his eyebrows. It’s irrefutable so you don’t bother, keeping your mouth shut and your face impassive. “So please consider that this is a dangerous exercise and that much is at stake if you do not heed my direction, highness.”

He lifts the impeccably crafted weapon in your direction. A craftsman on the outskirts of the blacksmithing district spent weeks hammering and shaping something worthy of the royal hands Dante intended it for, surprising himself by having such high standards where you are concerned. 

It is about time he acquired a blade for you to call your own now that you’ve shown that your interest in weaponry isn’t merely passing boredom while waiting for the next pastime to arrive. His old training swords have always been too big for you anyway and expert that he is, the knight can tell you hunger for more than just wood on wood. 

You need to hear the clang of metal. You need to feel the weight of a sword in your delicate, unblemished hand to understand what it means. It is Dante’s responsibility to ensure you do so otherwise you will find a way to do it for yourself as fecklessly as possible.

“How will you dub your weapon?” His question catches you off guard yet you bounce back quickly, smiling at him while your wide eyes slowly fall to their normal size. Reaching for the blade, you wrap your fingers around the hilt and lift it toward the cloudless sky. A reflection of limitless blue shines back at you.

“What do you call your sword, Ser Dante?”

A distraction to buy you time to come up with something good. The knight has no problem seeing through your illusion, admiring your admiration of his gift with a mirthful smile.

“You know very well what I call my sword, Princess.”

Rebellion. It has both quelled and inspired just that. 

“Yes but why do you call it such?”

A story you also know by heart, yet you desire to hear him tell it while you consider your options. The knight unsheathes his training sword from his belt, a less impressive blade than his beloved Rebellion, but he shows off by flipping it back and forth with quick flicks of his wrist.

“My father named it, not me. You’d have to ask him.” Humming and pretending to be unamused, the smile you attempt to hide gives you away. 

As always.

You’re no longer watching the sun shimmer and reflect the sky off of your gift, entranced by the movements of the man who has been bringing you here quietly for months. All it took was explaining how you wished to know how to defend yourself once for him to take to the job, telling the maids and stablehands you wished to take your horse out for a ride. Nobody has asked any questions so far though they may begin now that his favorite forgesmith is aware that this was a gift for royalty. 

Anything you want, you get, no matter how uncouth it may be. He makes it so even at the risk of being seen as indiscreet. 

He abruptly stops his movements and points his sword in your direction. 

“Do you wish to break it in?”

You adjust your grip, nodding with determination. “It is named Skydancer.”

“Will you and Skydancer keep up with me today?”

The nod increases in strength. Dante chuckles, taking a fighting stance.

“Then let’s begin.”

As you take position, you realize that your weight distribution has changed with this smaller sword and jump to embrace the difference in speed. A grin dances across your pretty face, growing when you thrust your arm outward and in the direction of your opponent, forcing him to swing his body outward as well to avoid the blade.

“You can do more than that!” 

The grin dims, swapping places with a more determined set in your brow and curl of your lip. The spring sun beats overhead, the creek a few feet away splashes and bubbles. Dante grunts and heaves, exhaling sharply to mirror your short breaths and determined harrumphing. 

This is your favorite place in the entire kingdom. It seems only correct that it has become the stage where you have learned such an art so unorthodox for your status. 

“Again,” he commands, easily dodging the jab you send toward him. 

The way he smiles, pride practically radiating off of him, reinvigorates your spirit and encourages  you to keep your pace despite the snarl that comes across your face in response. “As you wish” spat through the gritted teeth of the Princess Royal only doubles his amusement. A chuckle rings through the grassy knoll, a man shockingly nimble for his considerable size making sword fighting seem utterly effortless. 

You flip your wrist and subsequently your near weightless blade, pointing it to jab the very point between the leather clad chest of your knight. Dante shuffles backward before you can make contact, stopping with his feet flat on the ground.

“I thought you said you would be able to keep up, my lady.”

Groaning in frustration, you pull your arm and sword back from him and toward your body. The knight springs into action, placing his hand gently beneath your forearm and wrapping himself over your back and shoulders. His face drips with sweat, grin intact. 

“Give in Princess, you’re beat.”

You gaze up at him with wildfire in your eyes, attempting to free your arm and yourself from his grasp. He pants against your back, chest cupping the curve of your spine that keeps you hunched over and rounded in the shoulders. 

Your chest heaves alongside his though it’s for far less noble reasons than being out of breath. 

He’s so close to you. He’s sharing every breath you take, eyes as blue as the sapphires on your favorite necklace crinkling at you in amusement. The steady hammering of your heart against the delicate cage it calls home deafens all thoughts, nulling them from your consciousness. 

Though your lips have never touched a man, you’ve found yourself wondering exactly how they’d feel and taste if they touched this particular one. 

There’s an ache in you that you believe can only be soothed by kissing him. You wish for this so desperately in fact that your tongue dips out of your mouth to wet your lower lip instinctively, hoping the kittenish movement indicates what’s on your mind under no uncertain terms. 

Take me. I am yours.

One of the kitchen maids who often scintillates you with tales of her life outside of the castle walls swears the way to a man’s heart is to show him how conquerable you are. 

“You must be a country all his own,” she told you while slicing potatoes. Your own shirt sleeves pushed to your elbows to assist her even though she slapped at your forearms gently, insisting it’s beneath a future Queen. You ignored her, peeling and washing alongside her hungry for more details to which she obliged with a knowing half smile.  

“Once you’ve become a man’s homeland he will go to war to keep you safe.”

The only man you could begin to fathom desiring to fight for you came to mind, streaking through your memory atop his steed with his fathers sword held above his head. Nevermind the legions of others who have risen, fought, died, survived, and still dedicate their service to the crown that sired you. 

You hunger and long to be what Ser Dante fights for. Not the country, not the King, nor the crown he swore his loyalty to the day he was knighted the first time and the second when he pledged fealty to you as the future Queen.

It is your deepest, most selfish desire.

It’s the fire that has spread from your eyes to your stomach, razing all the good sense in your head and combusting in your heart like a firework. It’s what makes you lean in to press your soft lips against his, a featherlight touch. Even lighter than your hand forged sword or the wind that blows the linen of your skirts up above your ankles and knees. 

Lighter than the press of his lips back against yours, the stubble bordering the edges of his mouth scraping you. A grumble from his chest vibrates against your back, reminding you of the position you’ve found yourself in. 

You let Skydancer clatter down to the grass at your feet, Dante’s gloved hand sliding from your upper arm to your wrist to hold it. Miraculously he holds himself back from greedily mapping out the inside of your mouth with his tongue, breaking the kiss almost as quickly as it happened. 

“My my, this isn’t quite how I believed our spar would go today.”

The burning fire inside of you retreats enough that you realize what you’ve done. Your jaw drops slightly, eyes widening in a panic. 

You don’t wish to be seen right now. 

Bending at the waist to ball the ends of your skirt inside your fist, the panicked rush almost results in you tumbling to the ground until the knight stops you. “No.” He commands, firm but gentle. His strong hand remains wrapped around your wrist though he uses none of his strength to keep you pressed in place, your body betraying you with her desire to stay. That same chest heaves against your back, your heart still pounds. 

All you want to do is kiss him once more, disregarding every ounce of shame that has been instilled in you since the day you graced the earth. Every ounce of you longs to taste and feel, to show this man you admire so much how you’ve felt for so very long. 

This cannot happen again. 

“Let me go at once.” You command in return, attempting to hide the tremble in your voice with false bravado. Perhaps a man who hadn’t known you for almost your entire life would not detect the threat of tears in that particular tone but this one knows well. 

He drops your wrist, allowing you to spring free and take a few steps away. Your head swims, heart continuing to pound while the midday sun beats overhead. 

The awkwardness of the moment prevails, two pairs of eyes who have seen the other as something new from this day forward looking into one another. 

Should you apologize? Truthfully, all you want is to run away although it seems particularly childish of you in this context. You were the one who wanted to express your desire as a woman after all, he merely aroused it to begin with. Not to mention how improper it is for you of all people to force yourself upon a sworn protector. Your sworn protector. 

A dangerous thought curls inside your head. There’s a chance he may have only kissed you back out of duty rather than desire, your still body suddenly sparking with energy and begging you to take your leave to writhe around with your humiliation privately. 

“Please forgive my indiscretion.”

Politely bowing your head, you don’t even bother to curtsy while reaching down to pick up your sword. Dante attempts to stop you, stepping on the blade to weigh it down. 

“Princess.” Gentle but firm, once again and as always. Like you’re a petulant child still and not a fully grown woman who leans into her petulance as means to grasp power.

You gaze up at him, eyes fixed into a stubborn glare. He bends his knees to squat down until he finds himself eye level with you which further pins your sword to the ground.

There’s no escaping this unless you run and almost certainly get caught. You’ll simply have to face the consequences. 

Unfortunately for Dante you’re known him for a very long time too, strategically allowing the hot flood of embarrassed tears at your lash line to overflow and spill down your cheeks and the bridge of your nose. 

“Please don’t tell my father.”

It’s rare you refer to the King as anything besides such unless you’re really about to be in trouble. Are the tears a little opportunistic considering the situation? Most likely but the person least likely to hold them against you is framed by the sun next to you, wind ruffling the ends of his hair that grows more wavy with each passing second thanks to the outside humidity. 

Dante chuckles again, always capable of finding the means to laugh at your miserable charades. His free hand cups your chin, thumb stroking your petal soft cheek to wipe the tears away. 

“Why on earth would I do that?” He smiles. Or smirks rather, turning your face side to side with his hand playfully to see how far he can push it before you swat him away impatiently. “I would only incriminate myself in the process because I enjoyed it.”

Now you spring into action, lifting your hand to grab at his wrist and remove his touch. 

“I don’t wish to force you to keep a secret on my behalf.” 

It’s easy for him to meet you halfway, dropping your chin and instead lifting the palm of your hand to his mouth to kiss the heel of it. 

“Isn’t the fact we are out here training to begin with a secret?” He reminds you, head and face sinking lower so that he can press his forehead against yours. “A lady isn’t to know how to wield something like this,” he nods toward your sword. “Yet I have made sure that my lady does, against the wishes of her father.” 

You are so enchanted by this man - this beast of a human being who loves to ruffle your feathers just for his amusement - even your squirming stops. 

“Your secret is safe with me just as they all are, your grace.”

Frankly, he is the party responsible for many of those secrets to begin with. No one is more guilty of allowing you to indulge in a bit too much table wine or to go out long past your recommended curfew than the former Devil of the Killing Fields who traded in his fangs for something a bit more friendly. 

Something a bit warmer, anyway. That never smells of death or gore and smiles at him and gives his own medicine right back to him. Who giggles and grins and may complain but never truly gives up. 

Sharp as you are, how you haven’t caught on about how he truly feels about you is a mystery. Protective and intrigued and terrified and…given meaning. 

He traded his fields of glory to protect you. The valiant man dropped to a single knee and promised his life not simply to the crown but to the woman he’s so fond of that will someday be wearing it. 

Though tears continue to spill down your cheeks, a smile crosses your lips. Your hand drops the grip and pommel of your little sword and reaches up to instead hold his wrist. Asking no permission, you kiss him again. Harder, as fierce as you swung at him with your sword a few moments prior to now. 

Even if your fondness and desire for his lips - for him -  proves to be temporary, he’ll indulge it. If you grow bored of this in days or months or years the reminder that he was the first to taste such an indulgence will keep him warm for nights to come. 

If you are using him, he will allow himself to be just that. Used in service to the crown as his oath dictates he be.  

At least you will be using none but him.

[projectvendetta]

Welcome home

This is my first time writing fanfiction so pls bare with me!! :3

Wc : 1197ish

Paring : nero x reader

Warnings : use of devil trigger and devil breaker.

Ring, ring. "Oh, come on, Nero, answer." Nero has been gone on a job for about a day now, and you're starting to get worried. Click, your call was declined.

Knock Knock you perk up, walking over to the front door. "Please let me in, baby," you hear from the other side. Its Nero, you swing the door out swiftly. "Nero, where the hell ha-" As you look at the man before you, you see him limp, staring hopelessly at you. The severity of his injuries sinks in. You pull him into the house. "God, Nero, oh my god—what... what happened?"

He stares at you. He missed you. Looking into his eyes, he seems so desperate. Desperate for something? "Can you please sit me on the couch, sweetheart?" You grab his arm and wrap it around, bringing him to the couch. He goes limp on it, just staring at you. You hurry around the couch to the bathroom. Gathering all of the first aid you can, "Okay, Nero, stay still. I need to sew you up."

He grunts as the needle pokes his skin, slightly gripping your thigh from the pain. "Fuck, baby, how bad is it?" You look up at him. "Explain to me how this even happened. Where is Dante?? Where is Nico? Why is it only you here?" He cuts you off, pulling you into a kiss, caressing your cheek while firmly gripping your thigh. You feel his heavy breathing on your cheek; you kiss back, knowing you've been desperately needy for him all day.

His tongue finds its way into your mouth, and he grunts, pulling you closer. You pull him back. "Nero, you need to get sewed up. Let me finish—" he stops you. "Please, baby, I need it. I need you." You sigh, standing up and getting on top of him, fully straddling him. "After this, I am going to sew you up. You hear me? Your hips lightly sway against the hardened cock in his pants.

As you do so, you see his body begin to flash back and forth from his human side to his devil trigger. You raise an eyebrow. "Does that feel good, baby?" He grunts and tightens his grip on your hips. "Don't fucking stop, please, baby." He starts moving your hips for you as his head tilts back. "Fuck, I needed this so bad, baby. You feel so good," he says. You grip his neck as you feel heat move toward our center. You lightly moan, feeling his cock pushing against his pants and right onto your aroused cunt.

He picks you up and lays you down on the couch. You whine from the loss of pleasure in a quick motion. He flips open his belt and takes off his pants. "Please, Nero," he gets over to you and pulls down your shorts. He grins. "Seeping through your panties, hmm, baby? You're such a needy girl." He runs one of his Devil Breaker fingers down your wet slit. The coldness of it makes you shiver.

"The slightest touch from me, and you're in shambles. Hmm, gorgeous?" You pull him in close, forcing him directly right on top of you, his hardened cock hitting your clit in a swift motion. "Please, I need you, Nero. I've missed you," he grins as he leans down, kissing your neck and biting down, giving you a pretty bite mark.

You grip his back as you feel his teeth pierce your skin. Your hips thrust into his cock, making it slide across your cunt, making you grip onto him even harder. "F...fuck, baby, I don't know if I can handle that—" You see him transform into his Devil Trigger right on top of you. You feel his hot breath hit your face, and you caress his prickly face. "Shit, I'm sorry, baby; we can stop if you want. I didn't mean—" You pull him into a kiss, feeling his claws lightly graze your skin. You pull away. "Stay like this," you whisper.

You watch as his face turns shocked. "Are you sure, baby? I don't want to hurt you, or what if I—" You wrap your legs around his hips, shutting him up. He cant take it any longer The scent of your arousal is making him feral. You feel him adjust his hip, lining up his cock with your entrance. "I'm gonna stretch you so good for me, baby," he growls, his voice more distorted than before. "I bet on it, baby."

Once you say that, you feel his cock enter you, filling you up. You feel his warmth, and a loud, desperate moan comes from your throat. His cock pulsates inside you. You grab onto his horns and push your legs in, forcing his cock deeper inside of you. "Hmmm, god baby, you're taking me so well," he grunts, gripping your hair. He thrusts deeper, and you become overwhelmed with pleasure and the sight before you. You are in shambles, a complete mess underneath him. He continuously thrusts into you with a steady motion. It slowly becomes more and more sloppy from his desperate need to come inside of you. "I need to cum inside of you. I need to fill you up." He whispers beneath his sloppy breath, "Fuck, I'm gonna cum, Nero. D...don't stop."

He grins, thrusting faster and sloppier. You feel your climax rising as his does as well. "I'm gonna fill you up, baby. Oh, f...fuck." He grips your hair harder, his claws slightly grazing your inner thigh. Your eyes begin to go cloudy, your vision blurred, and your climax hits. Nero pushes his cock deeper into you, and heavy, low grunts leave his mouth as he cums deep inside of you. "Good girl, take all of my cum; let it fill up your pretty pussy." Gripping on his horns more, he slowly slips his cock out of your cunt, kissing down your neck. You feel his hands wandering every inch of your body; the heat of his devil trigger pierces your skin before you know it.

His face is right in front of your cum-filled cunt. He begins kissing your inner thighs, leaving small nibbles. His breath passes by your swollen clit, leaving you breathless. His blue tongue escapes his mouth and finds its way to your cunt, circling around your swollen clit. His tongue works its way toward your opening, and his tongue pierces your opening, traveling deep inside of you. Your back arches in pleasure, gripping onto the sides of the couch, his tongue working in and out of your cunt, leaving you a drooling mess.

You feel the arousal worsen. "I...I'm gonna cum again." A low growl leaves Nero's mouth, his body language becoming more feral and needy, his tongue hitting places you didn't know existed. He groans in pleasure. Your climax hits you hard, the rush of your cum glistening on Nero's tongue, licking you clean. His body transforms back to his human form. You smile, pulling him in for a kiss, and you hear Nico and her van coming down the street. You both quickly reorganize and get back to sewing Nero up. Nico walks through the door: "HEY Y'ALL." You both smile and greet her.

[starhvney]

𝐌𝐘𝐒𝐓𝐑𝐄𝐄𝐓 𝐌𝐄𝐍 𝐊𝐈𝐍𝐊𝐒 ☆ 𝐏𝐀𝐑𝐓 𝐓𝐖𝐎

𝐅𝐄𝐀𝐓𝐔𝐑𝐈𝐍𝐆: dante, travis, vylad

𝐂𝐖: NSFW, sexual content and kinks, but nothing extreme or disturbing

𝐀/𝐍: happy fourth of july if anyone decides i need to be spayed after this please do it before the fireworks show thanx!!!! also sorry if this is incoherent i was lowkey going insane writing this lol

𝐌𝐀𝐒𝐓𝐄𝐑𝐋𝐈𝐒𝐓

𝑻𝑯𝑰𝑺 𝑷𝑶𝑺𝑻 𝑪𝑶𝑵𝑻𝑨𝑰𝑵𝑺 𝑵𝑺𝑭𝑾 𝑪𝑶𝑵𝑻𝑬𝑵𝑻, 𝑰𝑭 𝒀𝑶𝑼 𝑨𝑹𝑬 𝑼𝑵𝑫𝑬𝑹𝑨𝑮𝑬 𝑶𝑹 𝑼𝑵𝑪𝑶𝑴𝑭𝑶𝑹𝑻𝑨𝑩𝑳𝑬 𝑾𝑰𝑻𝑯 𝑺𝑬𝑿𝑼𝑨𝑳 𝑪𝑶𝑵𝑻𝑬𝑵𝑻 𝑷𝑳𝑬𝑨𝑺𝑬 𝑫𝑵𝑰.

𝐃𝐀𝐍𝐓𝐄 | mirror sex, cock warming, teasing, dirty talk

☆ normally not a day goes by without this man at least whispering something completely dirty in your ear, his hands wandering and grabby for whatever he can appropriately reach at the time. you two could be having a normal time chilling on the couch and all of a sudden you’re in his lap while he asks you to just “warm him up” for a bit.

“quit twitching so much.” dante chuckles in your ear, hands squeezing the fat of your hips that he holds securely in place. “i’m trying to watch the movie.”

he hasn’t let you budge a single bit since he had you sit down on his dick, trapping you and keeping you snug in his lap. the tv screen had been flashing light against your eyelids ever since you closed them a good while ago, whatever you both had been watching long gone from your mind.

“shut up.” you breathe, involuntarily fluttering around him as you try to shift your hips again. “that’s not what you’re trying to do and you know it.”

another huff of amused air rustles your hair as his hips shift under you, bringing a rather pathetic-sounding moan from your lips when he twitches inside of you.

“oh?” he coos at you, voice nothing if not full of mischief. “why don’t we go to the bedroom, then?”

☆ his teasing doesn’t end there. it never does. especially when you’re fixed so pretty on his lap, both of your forms reflected in the mirror he had been sure to fix right in front of your shared bed when you got it. 

“what’re you so embarrassed for? look right ahead, baby.”

you’d slap him if you didn’t feel so good right now, one of his hands circling and rubbing your clit while the other grabs onto your chin, forcing your head to look forward at your reflection.

even if you wanted to close your legs for some sort of reprieve from his touch you wouldn’t be able to. your legs have been hooked over his, feet trapped between his calves and the bed, leaving you completely at his mercy as he spreads you out on top of him.

your eyes meet his through the mirror and he looks like he could cum right there, his eyes rolling back for a second when he sees that breathless look on your face.

“holy shit you’re so hot.” he groans, pressing a sloppy kiss against your neck. 

☆ at a certain point he can’t even draw it out any longer, his own patience thinning out the closer you get to the edge. his arms find themselves wrapping tightly around your waist, giving him the momentum to completely lose himself in you. 

your hands have found their place on his thighs, fingers digging into his bare skin as you’re continuously lifted and dropped back down onto his cock. he doesn’t even flinch at the pinch of your nails against him, all of his focus on how good you both feel.

his shoulder has become the place for your head to fall back on, broken moans leaving your lips with every bounce on his lap. you’d already cum twice at this point, head dizzy as you watched your mixed release ring around the base of his shaft.

“so good, taking it all for me. you’re so tight.” he unabashedly moans into your ear, breaths hitting your ear as he shows no sign of stopping, even as your legs violently shake against his. “love makin’ you feel good.”

☆ even when you’re both spent, he doesn’t stop running his mouth, even if his words are slurred as both of you lay back on the sheets in exhaustion. 

“you were s’good. you’re so sexyyy-” he mutters against the side of your head, eyes dropping closed.

“dante, shut up.”

𝐓𝐑𝐀𝐕𝐈𝐒 | face sitting, lingerie/cosplay/dress-up, noise play

☆ this dirty-minded man. you honestly should’ve expected it, with how much he drools over your ass and thighs any chance he gets. before he even gets any kind of pleasure from you, he begs for you to trap his face between your thighs.

“don’t be shy, babe, you’re not gonna hurt me.” he coaxes you, hands tugging you down as you hover over him. “please. i’ll make you feel so good, promise.”

nervously, you lower yourself on his face, your thighs feeling unbelievably soft as he presses them against his cheeks, pulling your core right over his lips.

immediately he goes all in, hands squeezing your ass, fully rolling your cunt onto his mouth as he begins to messily eat you out. 

☆ the noises he makes are downright pornographic, the mixes of his satisfied moans and the crude wet slurps of his tongue nearly enough to make the tightening in your abdomen snap. and with his eagerness, it’s hard to hold back. especially when he’s wanting you to be loud, too. 

“keeping making those noises f’me, hon.” he takes a breath, not caring how his face was covered in your juices or how his eyes were completely glazed over in lust as he looked up at you with those pleading eyes.

even if you were trying to stay quiet it’s impossible now, not with his determination to get your voice to echo off the walls. he’s curling his tongue in all the right places, shaking his head back and forth for his nose to brush just right against your clit.

when you try to pull away, the electric shock of pleasure growing to its peak, he pulls you right back in, having you ride it out while he relishes in the whines you make. his eyes are rolled back as he drinks up everything you give him, completely drunk on the way you taste.

☆ and when you add a skimpy little outfit or lingerie on top of all of that? oh, he’s going feral.

“you make me feel like such a perv.” he groans, one of his hands placed between your shoulder blades keeping you face down on the bed while the other pushes the tight nurse costume above your ass. “you knew this would turn me on, huh?”

the lace underneath that did anything but provide you modesty has him reeling, the hard-on straining against his pants borderline painful.

it’s only a minute later that he’s frantically driving himself into you, both of his hands gripping your ass and spreading you out to watch as you take him. 

“i already feel better, nurse. this treatment is just for me, right? cause i’m your favorite?”

…he used to be a theater guy, so it’s a given he’d be getting a little into it.

☆ he clings to you afterward, resting his head on your chest and hands resting on your hips, a position that was totally and completely unrelated to the activities you were just up to.

“…can you dress up like a maid next time?” he mutters into your boobs, and you can feel the perverted smile curving on his lips. 

that earns a harsh slap to his back.

𝐕𝐘𝐋𝐀𝐃 | soft sex, praise, pampering/babying, body worship

☆ it’s sickeningly sweet, how vylad handles you in bed. honeyed words leave his lips as soon as the clothes are stripped from your body.

you’re not sure if you should be turned on, fall asleep, or start crying at the gentle caresses that ghosted along your skin. vylad’s lips pepper sweet kisses against your neck, sending warm shockwaves across your whole nervous system.

“you’re so beautiful.” he murmurs, fingers traveling between your thighs, coaxing your folds open.

he works one finger in, massaging you open before adding another finger, then another. he doesn’t stop the path of his lips against you either, his kisses lining your jaw and nearing your ear. 

“there you go, just relax for me. i’m gonna take care of you. don’t worry your pretty little head about anything else.”

☆ and it’s true. you don’t even have to think, your mind only dizzily swirling with thoughts of vylad and how good you felt as he took the lead.

it’s like you were drunk, thoughts incoherent while vylad’s slow pace melted and churned your insides. your vision was blurred and crossed every time you opened your eyes, so you settle on completely letting yourself turn brain-dead.

“you're doing so well for me.. good girl.” he whispers, voice softer than the pillows you laid on.

whatever chance you had at being anything other than putty in his hands flies straight out the window.

he rocks into you at a slow pace, dragging himself out to the head before pushing in all the way back down to the hilt. every time he drove himself back in he managed to hit that perfect spot, sending your eyes to the back of your head and shockwaves up your spine. 

throughout it all his words stay just as steady as his pace, his voice soft and quiet in your ear. 

“does it feel good when i do that?”

“look at you… so sweet.”

“you’re so perfect, you know that?”

☆ he’s so overwhelmingly loving to you, it almost makes you want to shy away. especially with how his eyes linger on every part of you. from the expressions you make to how your chest softly bounces with every thrust, down to where your waist curves and your bodies meet. he won’t let you hide from him, though.

vylad’s hands laced with yours, pinning them both by your head and leaving you completely vulnerable to him.

“you’re so beautiful. right now and all the time.” he whispers, eyes unashamedly tracing across every curve and line of your skin, taking in every feature of your face.

“if only you could see the way you look right now.”

☆ after you’re both done his praise doesn’t stop, even as the pleasure slurs his words together and has him pressing his weight onto you.

“so good. you feel so good.” he sighs, hips and chest flush with yours. his face is tucked in the crook of your neck, heavy breaths leaving goosebumps against your sweaty skin.

“my girl. you did so well for me.”

©starhvney, 2024. please do not steal or repost my works as your own.

[beevean]

Me, a guy from Middle-East watching this Netflix shit compare me and millions of others to demons: What have we done to Adi Shankar to deserve this?

I've also seen victims of US invasions...it was really a horrible thing to use such a huge thing still fresh in the memory of the people as some kind of joke for his shitshow of an anime. The victims of war are still alive, what happened to them is fresher than the age of DMC franchise itself.

And of course the Christianity mockery is cherry on top. Assyrians are a large indigenous population in Middle-East with majority living in Iraq. And they are Christians. They have always faced discrimination but the US invasion was particularly cruel to them. Many of these native Assyrians were displaced, internally and externally.

Im just left speechless by how insensitive and abominable Adi Shankar is

It's just so. Tone-deaf in its attempt to be progressive.

"No no you see, Americans demonized Arabs for years, but they're not really as monstruous as they depicted them! Just like the demons in the show, who are not all evil but unjustly persecuted! I am so smart!"

You buffoon, you are still equating a real minority with a fictional non-human race. Someone who is genetically different to the core (in the show, Lady uses special bullets that react to demon DNA in particular, so yes, they really are not the same species despite diverging from the same source).

And not just that! Because it's in episode 4 that we first introduce this theme of "not all demons are bad". Before that? All the demons we see are evil monsters who delight in killing humans for shit and giggles! They seem to be the majority, in fact! So do we really want to take that comparison to its logical conclusion?

In real life, Muslim people became the unjust target of propaganda due to isolated terrorist attacks like 9/11: billions of people were made into "threats" for the actions of few. In the setting of the show, demons are generally aggressive for no reason. We even see Arkham at one point turning himself into a demon and eating his own wife, just like that. Do you fucking understand what you are saying, you hack.

And! And what does that make Dante, eh? He made a whole career of killing demons, and having fun at it too. Are we really painting Dante as a slaughterer of minorities? Oh my god this is literally like that stupid vampire kid skull shot in Netflixvania that implies the Belmonts are ruthless child murderers, someone please save me. Then again, apparently Sparda is Trump in this universe, sure why not.

Oh shut up, you literally reveal two minutes later that you are affiliated with the White Rabbit, who was the one who allowed you to escape the war-torn Middle East Hell Makai!

I also find rich that these demons are the "good" ones. The humanoid ones. The one who look just like the "sapiens", contrasting the evil demons who look like plants and shit. Again. Do you understand what you are implying? Maybe don't use fucking demons as a political metaphor for real people?

(wait, I just realized. What does this mean for that shapeshifting demon that turns into a baby, Vergil and that other soldier guy? That minorities... disguise themselves as the oppressive majority... to hurt them...? Guys, I think the metaphor is eating itself.)

And yeah, the Christian bashing is getting old. I get it. CHURCH BAD, because AMERICA BAD. I don't know how to convey how much I am sick of these blunt messages without sounding like an American right-winger lmao, but you make a good point: Christians are not just American Karens, and the topic is more complicated than "American politicians use Christianity as a weapon, therefore Christianity bad" (I can't help but notice how convenient it is that demons attack the Vatican in the first episode, but not holy places of other religions). I wonder if fans of this show will also use the excuse fans of NFCV use and say "no no no you see God is good, it's the humans who twist His message! The show is totally nuanced guys!". I'm expecting something as stupid as NFCV's water-blessing zombie :P

I'm really sorry this show has upset you. I can only imagine how insulting it feels to see a real war you witnessed turned into a scene of America bombing Hell and scaring Arab-coded demons while American Idiot plays in the background. You deserve much better and I hope things look up in general 🫂

[icycoldninja]

Can I request... Sparda boys x university student female reader, please? 👩‍🎓

Absolutely! Here you go!

Sparda boys x Fem!University student!Reader headcannons

¤ Dante ¤

-Dante never went to college himself, as he spent his entire youth fighting off demons.

-To make up for it, he visits you every chance he takes and makes you take him on tours throughout the campus.

-Has no idea how to help you with your homework since the last time he had to was around 3 decades ago.

-Tried to spy on you (because he's proud of you) through the window of your classroom and got caught, mistaken for a stalker, and promptly thrown out and banned from campus.

-Now the only time you can see each other is during breaks between semesters when you can go home, but never fear, Dante has a workaround.

-You guys now video call each other all day every day, each of you very reluctant to shut off your phones.

■ Vergil ■

-Vergil was very proud of you for going to college and completing your education.

-He visits you every chance he gets, but unlike Dante, he doesn't make you show him around campus. He just likes spending time with you.

-When you guys walk around together people mistake him for a professor, occasionally running up to him and asking questions related to their studies.

-Vergil makes a good professor, though, and answers them more accurately and clearly than their own teachers.

-Since he's so smart, Vergil will help you with your work, but ONLY as if you're stuck and it's last resort. He doesn't want you using him to cheat.

-Sends you treats and things nearly all the time, along with letters reminding you to eat and drink plenty of water.

□ Nero □

-Nero never cared for college, which is why he never went, but he's proud of you for putting in the effort and studying hard.

-He can't visit as much as he'd like to because of devil hunting, his inability to travel without a vehicle, and your busy schedule, but he takes the time to call and/or text at least 4 times a day.

-When you come back to see him for holidays/break time, he is overjoyed.

-He misses you every day that you're gone, getting increasingly lonelier and lonelier until you return.

-Then when you come back he squishes you up in a bone-crushing hug and just stays there for about half an hour, not wanting to let you go.

-He's tempted to grab onto your leg and keep you from leaving again, but knows better than to actually do it. You're leaving for the sake of your education, you'll be back soon.

[reinawr]

i want to yap about seven and dmc bois dynamic. english is not my first language, so i'm sorry if my grammar sucks :((

dante to seven is quite clingy. you can say his love language is physical touch. if seven is there, and dante must be there too. he likes teasing her a lot, sometimes bully her too (in a good way). when they're on mission together, dante always leaves seven in danger while saying, "nah, i know she can handle that herself" even though in the end he still backed her up. he loves when seven do something silly and that just want him to squeeze her cheeks, ruffle her hair, and hug her tightly. he ended up doing it and seven hugging him back happily while he still ruffle her hair. when seven is yapping about her interest (games, book or music or smth), he just looked at her in silence, admiring her sparkling eyes when she's yapping, her lips when she's talking. he always remembers everything she yap about. he loves to see those tiny lips talk. until seven yells at him, "are you listening to me?!", "mhmm, yeah sweetheart i'm listening", "no, you don't—." seven is rebel sometimes, but he always can handle that side of her because he know how to handle that behavior. it's like he's looking at a mini version of himself.

next is, vergil. seven is quite love-hate to him for no reason. seven is quite rebel and a bit stubborn, just around him. but he has facing dante who is more super duper extra annoying, so facing seven is not a difficult thing for him. he actually really cares about the little things about seven, but he always manages to hide it. he remembers anything about her. anything. he always watches seven from a distance when she's alone. when there is a surprise attack from a random demon, he always arrives at the right time even before seven can react. "next time please don't let your guard down, seven", "i.. i can take care of myself. im not a child!", "you've said that to me so many times until i've lost count and you always almost end up dead", "i... uh... shit... shut up." unlike his brother, he is not physical touch type but seven always finds her favorite snacks or other things she might need with a small notepad. even though he is not the physical touch type, he doesn't refuse if seven accidentally puts her arm around him when she is scared of something. sometimes seven accidentally yaps about her interest in front of him. he didn't understand it at first but he's trying to listen and understand her. the yapper and listener.

then, nero and seven. they both are just playmates during gaming. it's not uncommon for them to scream while playing games and that makes lady almost throw her kalina-ann at them to shut them up. she always give nero advice for him and kyrie EVEN THOUGH SHE DOESN'T HAVE ANY ROMANCE EXPERIENCE IN HER LIFE until she met his father and his uncle. until one day, nero said "i don't want you to be my stepmother and auntie, girl." seven immediately glared at him, "AS IF????". but nero continued, "but if they make you happy, then... i don't mind. i'll support you, bud." nero's words made seven blush in the middle of the game. nero continued again, "although i don't understand why you have love interest in them. are you having daddy issues or what?" who immediately got a controller thrown at his head from seven.

the last one is V. seven doesn't realized that V is vergil's other self so she act normal around him. seven doesn't mind if V leaned to her shoulder if he exhausted. he let her play with shadow and griffon. V uses his cane to pull seven if she is being clumsy while walking. they often read books together under a tree or in a random place. sometimes griffon tease seven about her and V but he ended up being thrown by seven.

[endversewinchester]

It really bothers me so much of the caraval fandom ignores (or perhaps misunderstands) the actual storyline in order to take digs at Dante and Tella.

When Julian says things like “my brother can’t love” or “he’s never been there for me in the way I have been for him”, that’s only Julian’s POV, not a fact of the caraval universe. This entire book leans on the idea of multiple POVs and multiple truths, and to toss it away is to throw away key points of the storyline.

I have blogged about this before but I see it so often I feel the need to say it again:

Julian believes these things about his brother because he suffers from the same younger sibling syndrome that Tella does re Scarlett. He believes those things because Dante shuts him out emotionally the same way he did to Tella in finale, and we can get into why on a different post. But under no circumstance does that make it a hard fact.

The narrative of Finale itself makes sure to challenge Julian’s assumptions. Why?

• Dante takes Julian’s feelings into consideration and listens to him re letting Tella go (for reasons we can get into on a separate post as well).

(Julian is hinting at himself and his brother in that highlighted line. Just FYI.)

• Because we see Dante absolutely refusing to allow Julian to get in harm’s way. Even to save Scarlett.

• Because we see how desperate Dante is when Julian is captured.

Straight up spelled out for you all in that last sentence.

• When Dante actively goes out there and sacrifices himself to save Julian, which is the exact moment in the narrative Julian realizes he was wrong about his brother.

• When everyone realizes how much Dante was actually willing to sacrifice for his brother.

So please. For the love of god. Read and understand the stories before making posts on them. Thank you.

[invisibleraven]

12. “That’s so unfair!” “What’s unfair?” “You can’t just do that without warning me!” – For Alex and Willie please.

Alex had never been a big fan of surprises-he preferred to know what was coming, to have a plan. That was until he met Willie.

Willie was spontaneous, happy to fly by the seat of his pants and improvise, so falling for him took Alex by surprise. But he'd never been happier.

However, he also felt like he was always on his toes, never knowing what was coming next. Some days Willie showed up wanting to skate in an empty museum, other days he wanted to go for a joy ride in the desert. And for some reason, Alex always gave in.

"Someone has a crush," Reggie teased after Alex came back from a day of paintball-something he would never have done if Willie hadn't suggested it.

"Shut up," Alex grumbled, though he didn't exactly deny it. He knew he had a crush, but Willie had yet to make a move, so he hadn't done anything with his feelings. Better to let his feelings pass than compromise their friendship.

"Dude I think he feels the same," Luke piped up, though the words were slightly muffled due to the guitar pick in his mouth. "Why not ask him out?"

"You know I'm not the guy who makes the move," Alex replied quietly. "Besides, Willie would never go for a guy like me."

"Dude go off with that bullshit," Reggie snarked. "You are a snack, plus you're an insane drummer, a great dancer, and you deserve the best guy there is. So own your awesomeness and go get Willie."

"Don't tell me what to do," Alex said, but then grabbed Reggie into a hug. "Thank you bud."

"Yeah yeah, go get your guy."

Alex rushed off, heading for the skate park, the place it was more than likely to find WIllie. And though he would never admit it to Reggie and Luke, Willie had managed to teach him a few moves-he was no Tony Hawk (another thing Willie taught him) but he could skate down the block without wobbling or falling off, which was pretty damn good for a beginner.

"Hey hot dog," Willie said as he caught sight of him. "Couldn't get enough of me?"

"Something like that," Alex muttered under his breath. "I just..."

"You wanna try a flip?" Willie asked. "I can show you a real simple one if you want."

"Maybe another time," Alex replied, gathering his courage. "I was wondering if maybe we could...get something to eat?"

"Sure, there's this cute little dim sum place not far if you want," Willie replied casually. "Dante has been raving about it for weeks."

"I mean...do you want to go together?"

"Um yeah? I wasn't expecting you to go pick it up or anything."

Alex groaned, rubbing his eyes with his palms. "I suck at this."

"What is this exactly?" Willie asked, his voice fond.

"I'm trying to ask you out and I am majorly blowing it because I've never really liked a guy before and asking him out is untrod territory and now you think I'm a dork or insane or-"

Whatever else Alex was going to say was cut off by Willie's lips against his, in a sweet, spontaneous kiss that had him mentally flailing until Willie pulled back.

“That’s so unfair!” Alex exclaimed.

“What’s unfair?”

“You can’t just do that without warning me!” Alex retorted, "I mean I don't need you to ask for consent or anything but I wasn't expecting that and god what if you think I'm a lousy kisser and-"

This time Willie held a finger up to Alex's mouth. "Alex, I really like you, even though you are totally spazzing out right now. So here's what's going to happen-I'm going to kiss you again, because that was an awesome kiss, and then we are going on our first date, after which hopefully you will kiss me. And I don't need a warning."

"Okay," Alex breathed out, letting Willie pull him into a sweet kiss that made his toes tingle as he wrapped his arms around him to deepen it.

WIllie eventually pulled back, his cheeks crimson and smile blazing as he leaned in to nuzzle their noses together. "Now, how about that date?"

Alex grinned, linking their arms together, and then pulled Willie down for another kiss.

"Where did that come from?" Willie asked as he started them down the road.

Alex shrugged. "What can I say? You make me spontaneous."