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"don't even worry about him, okay? im here." he would always be there for you, you just needed a push to realize that. "you didn't deserve that, not at all. much too sweet for fuckers like him, no?" his hand slid down, fingers lightly gripping at your waist as a form of possessive action. "ay, look at me okay?" when you did, he was so close to you, nose lightly brushing yours. he was leaning closer though and fuck you were going to push him away. going to tell him the two of you were just friends and only that. mouth opening to tell him to back up but you couldn't. you just needed someone to fill the hole.

literally.

he fucked you like he was proving himself to you. proving ain't nobody else could have you as he did in only five minutes. his hand kept you grounded down, his palm hard against your ass as he thrusted like he was going to war. he winced through his teeth, adams apple bobbing in his throat when he groaned from your tightness. "fuck– fuck, fuck, see how you got me?" wasn't much of a question, he just wanted you to know what you did to him. he stopped moving only for a second, his knee kicking between your thighs just so you can arch deeper.

he started up again, your ass bouncing each time his hips came in contact and clapped at your wet skin. you couldn't speak, only having incoherent words when you tried and slobbered moans. he snickered, lip curling upwards from his ego. "mmm.. coño muy apretado. might snap my dick off." his eyes darted all over your body, watching how your body tried to roll and grind backwards to get him deeper inside.

"yeah, knew you wanted me from the beginning." he huffed through his nose, teeth grinding together. his hand gripped at your hair, pulling you up so you could look back at him. "say it. don't fuckin' deny it, hear me?" you nodded to your best abilities, swallowing your saliva down harshly. he clicked his teeth against the top of his mouth, shaking his head. "you don't listen bebé. say. it." wanted to hear it. you gasped wetly, blinking away any tears only for them to spill out anyway. "wanted— wanted you from the beginning! needed you so bad..'m losin' my mind, don't stop.."

he let go of your hair, your cheek hitting the soft mattress. "there we go. wasn't that hard, now was it?" he tilted his head, like he was curious. "but how would i know that," his palm smacked down at your ass, the cheek already bruised up. "maybe i should get this tight ass filled with my nut– you gon' take it real good and well ain't you." he demanded and you nodded, nodded like you even knew what the fuck he was saying.

—

he knew he was petty, wouldn't admit it. he got what he wanted and had you all cuddled up to him and comfy. his marks were all over you, from neck down to between your thighs. bite marks, bruises, hickeys, even a few scratches. his phone was in his hand, thumb swiping at the photos he took of you sleeping. he scent it on your phone, right to your boyfriend making sure most of those marks were visible.

he fucking giggled when he saw the three frantic bubbles pop up as your boyfriend(ex) typed. he fingers were already quick across the screen.

"don't even worry about him, okay? im here." he would always be there for you, you just needed a push to realize that. "you didn't deserve that, not at all. much too sweet for fuckers like him, no?" his hand slid down, fingers lightly gripping at your waist as a form of possessive action. "ay, look at me okay?" when you did, he was so close to you, nose lightly brushing yours. he was leaning closer though and fuck you were going to push him away. going to tell him the two of you were just friends and only that. mouth opening to tell him to back up but you couldn't. you just needed someone to fill the hole.

literally.

he fucked you like he was proving himself to you. proving ain't nobody else could have you as he did in only five minutes. his hand kept you grounded down, his palm hard against your ass as he thrusted like he was going to war. he winced through his teeth, adams apple bobbing in his throat when he groaned from your tightness. "fuck– fuck, fuck, see how you got me?" wasn't much of a question, he just wanted you to know what you did to him. he stopped moving only for a second, his knee kicking between your thighs just so you can arch deeper.

he started up again, your ass bouncing each time his hips came in contact and clapped at your wet skin. you couldn't speak, only having incoherent words when you tried and slobbered moans. he snickered, lip curling upwards from his ego. "mmm.. coño muy apretado. might snap my dick off." his eyes darted all over your body, watching how your body tried to roll and grind backwards to get him deeper inside.

"yeah, knew you wanted me from the beginning." he huffed through his nose, teeth grinding together. his hand gripped at your hair, pulling you up so you could look back at him. "say it. don't fuckin' deny it, hear me?" you nodded to your best abilities, swallowing your saliva down harshly. he clicked his teeth against the top of his mouth, shaking his head. "you don't listen bebé. say. it." wanted to hear it. you gasped wetly, blinking away any tears only for them to spill out anyway. "wanted— wanted you from the beginning! needed you so bad..'m losin' my mind, don't stop.."

he let go of your hair, your cheek hitting the soft mattress. "there we go. wasn't that hard, now was it?" he tilted his head, like he was curious. "but how would i know that," his palm smacked down at your ass, the cheek already bruised up. "maybe i should get this tight ass filled with my nut– you gon' take it real good and well ain't you." he demanded and you nodded, nodded like you even knew what the fuck he was saying.

—

he knew he was petty, wouldn't admit it. he got what he wanted and had you all cuddled up to him and comfy. his marks were all over you, from neck down to between your thighs. bite marks, bruises, hickeys, even a few scratches. his phone was in his hand, thumb swiping at the photos he took of you sleeping. he scent it on your phone, right to your boyfriend making sure most of those marks were visible.

he fucking giggled when he saw the three frantic bubbles pop up as your boyfriend(ex) typed. he fingers were already quick across the screen.

boyfriends dad, who found your Instagram quickly enough. scrolling along the photos that you would post, whether it be your face, outfits, food. he was always looking at them when he had some time alone. he couldn't help himself, sooner or later cum would be all over his screen and he'd have to wipe it off. no shame to his actions.

boyfriends dad, who was a little nosey. just a little bit. he had overheard a phone call a while back, you were talking to your friend and seemed distressed and even disappointed. "i dunno, he just can't..pleasure me like i thought he would." oh? really?

boyfriends dad, who would take advantage of times you two would have alone. sometimes he would give subtle touches, those subtle touches would turn into not so subtle accidents. unlike his son, he could make you squirm and writhe with a few touches. unlike his son, he could have you moaning for real on his dick. unlike his son, he could have you cumming with just his hand.

boyfriends dad, who fucked you like an everyday schedule that just couldn't wait any longer. he'd have you bent over every surface he could get you on. kitchen counter, bathroom sink, couch, your boyfriends bed. shit, if he could compare this to the first hole he fucked this would be much better.

boyfriends dad, who could never stop talking and grunting while he fucked you. he wanted you to know you were his, even if on the outside you weren't, you surely were on the inside. "don't act all wimpy, take this dick like a man— 'less you a lil' girl, hm?" "daddy's got you addicted, don't he? mhm, ain't even gotta tell me with your words i can already see." "shh, shh, ain't none of that cryin'. big boys don't cry." "goood boy, suckin' me in so good."

boyfriends dad, absolutely loved to watch you come crawling back to him after you said you wouldn't. you'd try so hard to be a good boyfriend, try to force yourself to like the way your boyfriend fucked you, but you just couldn't do it. it was so difficult, you had to jerk yourself off beforehand. you just missed it so badly. missed his big hands gripping at the soft skin of your waist, missed the way his chest hair tickled your back when he leant down to go deeper, you missed it all.

boyfriends dad, who would rub it in your face each time you'd come back to him. saying things like you couldn't resist him, and he was right. fucking right. you'd have to give him head as an apology, listen to him degrade you like some side bitch. "fuck..look at ya, chokin' on this dick like you ain't beg me for it." he would thrust his hips the moment you'd get used to it for a second, seeing the way you could only gargle and whimper as a response.

boyfriends dad, who was just as obsessed with your body as you were of his. he paid attention to every little detail, every little twitch and wiggle so he would memorize it and get it right(unlike someone he knew). watch your tummy fill up and bloat with his cum each and every time he plunged in deep so he could feel the relief of cumming inside like he was getting you filled of his damn kids.

It was wrong. Anyone who saw it will say it's wrong to love your stepbrother beyond a family bond. Dean didn’t see it like that, though. He defended himself by saying, “We’re given the title of brothers, but we’re not related in any way.” People will still say it's wrong, but at this point, Dean didn’t care. 

Dean still remembers the day you appeared in his life. 

Dean was eighteen when their father announced he was remarrying again and that they’d get a new brother. Dean wasn’t too happy about getting another sibling—he thought he and Sam were enough—but he stayed quiet and didn’t complain. John then gave another announcement that they’d be meeting their new mother and brother. 

The older Winchester was reluctant to meet the addition to the Winchester family. From the information he was given, you were a year younger than him. He was spacing out and blocking external interactions. ‘Why must father’s new wife come with an attachment? It would’ve been better if it was just her… not some “brother” that’s coming.’ Dean cursed as he bit his lip from annoyance even though they hadn’t arrived yet. He was so lost in thought that he didn’t hear his father calling out to him. “Dean! Change that attitude and meet your new brother.”

Dean groaned and sighed as he drank his soda before looking up to meet his new stepbrother. He choked as he made eye contact, hacking as the soda itched his throat the wrong way. His face was flustered from embarrassment as he tried to clean himself. ‘Shit! I wasn’t expecting him to be that…’

The Winchester who was usually confident, charming, and witty embarrassed himself. He was gobsmacked, he didn’t expect you to be cute, handsome, and attractive! Dean never found another man attractive but he was bi-curious; guess he’s bisexual. After his humiliation, Dean introduced himself, attempting to brush off the incident. 

“Well, I guess we’re gonna be stepbrothers! Nice to meet you..” 

XXX 

You were a plague on his mind. You filled his mind every waking day as he tried to push down those feelings for you. It only got worse after the wedding ceremony when you and his new mom moved in. The older Winchester unknowingly began watching your moves; how you acted, dressed, and talked. Every last piece of you made him want you more. 

He went as far as to steal your underwear, jerking his cock to your musky scent. His imagination went full drive, imagining you in various positions. Begging and whining for him while he fucks you to oblivion. Dean had the greatest orgasms in his life, painting himself with his load. 

“Dean! Where is my underwear?” You yelled as you searched your room. This was the fourth time this week that your underwear had gone missing! Other belongings had gone missing like some clothing, pillowcases, and even your toothbrush. 

At first, he was adamant about you, but now he was becoming obsessed with you. Whenever you two spoke together, he cherished those memories and every detail. He started stalking all your social media accounts, gathering every piece of information. His obsession reached the point where he could feel your presence in the room.

Obsession was blooming, but so was possessiveness. 

Dean masked his possessiveness by acting like a concerned older stepbrother, justifying his actions to be out of love and protection for you! He was protecting you from rotten men! So, he invaded every aspect of your life, asking who you’re texting, seeing, or even where you’re going. “I don’t want anyone to hurt you. I just wanna protect you.”

“Aww, you’re worried about me?” You teased. You always wondered what it would feel like to have another sibling, especially one that’s protective. So, you played off Dean’s protectiveness as just a sibling thing. However, Dean was serious, something you couldn’t comprehend. 

When you started attending his university, he began stalking your every move. Jealousy and fury surged through his body as he watched men and women alike talk with you. Your natural charisma and good looks caused more attention to come to you. 

Dean attempted to cease further advancements from other men by making– forcing you– you to be in his group of friends. Using his popularity and large stature, Dean intimidated any of your pursers, blackmailing them, or getting physical. Whenever anyone came close, he pulled you closer to him, wrapping his arms around you possessively like you two were a couple. 

You were flattered by Dean's possessiveness, unaware of his obsession though. He just wanted to protect you! That’s what a good stepbrother does, but it's starting to get out of hand. Because of Dean’s ministrations, you were lacking any type of social interaction or relationships. All the guys you talked to distanced themselves or refused to speak to you again. 

Dean was too blind to see how you were feeling until he heard your cries coming from the dorm. Whenever he looks at you now, you just look depressed– saddened that nobody wants to be near you or be in a relationship. The older Winchester began questioning himself.

After days of contemplating and trying to justify his actions, Dean decided to back off. Even though the deepest parts of his mind were telling him that everything he did was for your safety. Despite his own unpopular opinion, Dean backs off and watches as you engage with other men. It took a lot of willpower to not stomp over there and snatch you from them. 

As a way to channel his jealousy and fury, Dean went to the gym every day as he continued to watch you. The constant routine caused him to become bulky. Many men and women threw themselves at him, and Dean indulged, trying to bury his affection and jealousy. However, none of it worked. Someday, Dean hopes your feelings will come around. 

That day finally came three years later. 

XX(three years later)XX

For three years, Dean watched in agony and jealousy as you got into an intimate relationship with someone who wasn't him. Dean, from day one, said he didn’t approve and made it abundantly clear. He watched like a cuck as the guy was lovey-dovey with you. Even worse, he could hear the sounds of moaning and bed squeaking at night. Admittedly, he did jerk off but only imagined himself being the one fucking you. 

Every day, Dean prayed to whatever God there was for misfortune to strike your relationship. It was an asshole move to pray on the downfall of his stepbrother's relationship, but Dean felt something was wrong with that man. He was later proven right.

“H-He cheated on me! That fucking asshole! I… I did everything…” you yelled as you took all your anger on some pillow before crying and burying your head. 

Dean watched, having the face of a concerned brother but inside, he was ecstatic. This was his chance! He could use this moment to slowly insert himself back into your life. Surely, helping you overcome this massive obstacle would make you fall in love with him! Dean will never cheat on you like that asshole did and could be a better boyfriend, maybe husband. 

Because nobody is gonna pay some guy or girl to come after him!

“Hey, Hey… it's okay. Come here, let me hug you.” Dean says tenderly as he pulls you into his embrace. Your cries muffled into his flannel jacket as the older Winchester soothed your cries. He could hear your rugged breathing calm down as you relaxed into your stepbrother's hold. 

Dean repeated this for the next few days which turned into weeks and months. He did everything to make you forget that man; taking you out to eat, movies, just sitting around and talking, or playing games together and just getting closer. Closer than what’s accepted between stepbrothers. He made sure you blocked the asshole's number and got rid of everything that reminded you of him. 

You were starting to feel something with Dean. You never looked at your stepbrother like that but now you were seeing him differently. His charming smile, funny personality, and bulky body from hours at the gym. You often caught yourself staring at Dean for long periods before turning away embarrassed. 

His biceps flexed, pulling his shirt slightly up to show his happy trail, walking around with no shirt on, or hugging you from behind. You blushed and smiled as Dean’s muscular body pressed against yours, and it was something you didn’t expect to need. These unexpected thoughts led to constant wet dreams– Dean pushing you into the bed, ramming his cock into your ass as he praises you for being a good boy. 

“So fucking good… You’re amazing, baby boy.” Dean groans as he nibbles and kisses your neck as he fucks his cock into your tight ass. His large burly hands roam your body to soothe you from the pain. 

You woke with bad morning wood. 

Everything was going as planned, if anything, faster than Dean anticipated. He could feel you warming up to him and often begging for his attention. You two were hanging out in your room, doing nothing, and the older Winchester felt the time was right.

“Y/n… I feel like this is the right time to tell you. I’ve always loved you ever since we met.” Dean confessed as he got closer. His natural scent filled your nose as his large body was close to yours. The room was turning around, it felt like it was getting hotter as you processed what Dean said. 

You didn’t remember what you said, probably saying you loved him back, but it ended with you and Dean being in a heated kiss. His tongue invaded your mouth as he took the dominant role and pushed you into submission. Feeling your submission, he pulled you onto his lap. 

“D-dean…” You whine as you feel your stepbrother pulling your shirt off. His worn hands roam your body as he touches every crevice. His thick fingers tweaking your nipples, your moans muffled by the kiss. Suddenly, the rest of your clothing was torn off as Dean moved you from his lap to the comfortable bed. 

The cold air touches your cock causing you to moan softly. Looking up at Dean, you could see lust in his eyes and he hastily takes off his clothing, almost tripping. His whole body was only for you to see. He was muscular, with perfect abs and pectorals along with his biceps. Tone thighs as his long cock was erected, acting like a third leg. 

Dean looked down at you, seeing the eagerness in your eyes from seeing his cock. You're shifting comfortably, thrusting your hips upward to get stimulation and spreading your legs further to let Dean get more room. “Look at you… all needy and I barely did anything.” Dean groans as he wraps his hand around your aching cock, giving it slow strokes. Your breath was caught in your throat as you tried to chase the pleasure, thrusting into Dean’s hand for more. Suddenly, a loud slap rang; Dean’s hand leaving a significant handprint. 

Instead of feeling pain, you felt pleasure from being hit. This caused you to thrust more which resulted in Dean slapping your thighs. “Ah? My baby is a fucking masochist? Want me to continue?” Dean purrs as he hears you moaning like a bitch in heat. You nodded desperately, wanting more. He continued his ministration, slapping your thighs until they looked bruised– not that you minded. Your cock was throbbing painfully, coating the older Winchester’s hand with your precum. 

Dean was doing everything to prevent your orgasm: ruining it by pulling away when he feels you were close and squeezing or pinching your cockhead. While it may look painful to others, you were ascending to another reality. Your moans filled the room, and you started begging for more. “P-please… I-I need… god… more. Please! Touch me.” Your whines were music to Dean’s ear as he felt you were ready for the next stage. 

“Darling. Lick my fingers,” Dean says as he shoves his fingers into your mouth. Three thick digits filled your mouth as you lathered them with saliva, slobbering around the digits, tongue swirling. It felt like you were losing air when Dean pulled his fingers out– satisfied by how coated they were. “Good job, darling. Amazing.” the older Winchester says causing you to whine with happiness from his praise. 

Slowly, Dean pushes one finger inside, grinning as he sees you pushing yourself back onto his finger. Your breathing got heavier with only one finger filling you, and flashbacks of your boyfriend filled your vision, but Dean was much better. He was thicker and bigger, speaking about his fingers, you’re nervous about his cock. “Breath, darling. I know you’re eager, but you need to calm down so I stretch you.”  Dean says as he uses his other hand to soothe your thighs. 

Letting a soft “yes” you started relaxing. The tension leaves your body as you feel Dean pressing and pushing two more fingers inside. He was stretching you nicely, reveling in the way you were keen on fucking yourself on his fingers. Dean continued pumping his fingers, loud squelching mixing with your moans and whines. He sees your body squirming and wiggling, trying to get more. 

Dean groans with mild frustration as he tried to find the sweet spot. After wiggling and thrusting his fingers, feeling your hot ass clenching around his digits– “Dean! There! Right there!” 

Bingo

He began abusing your bundle of nerves. The tip of his fingers rammed into your sweet spot as he was milking that spot for your pleasure. Feeling the signals your body was giving, an orgasm, Dean pulled his fingers with a loud pop following. “W-why did you stop?” You whine before Dean gave your ass a harsh slap.

“I want you to cum with my dick inside you,” Dean says as he strokes his cock. Opening your drawer and pulling out a bottle of lube. He put a generous amount on his hands before lathering his aching monster cock with the substance. “Please… fucking, please. Fuck me,” you whine as you gave Dean teary eyes. 

Who was Dean to deny his darling his pleasure? 

Dean grins, slowly thrusting his cock into your ass, pausing when he is fully inside. He wants you to adjust, your ex-boyfriend probably never filled you this much. He was right. Just from him entering, you were on cloud nine. You’ve never been filled or stretched this much. Your ass clenching around Dean’s large cock, trying to pull it deeper. “Fucking hell, darlin'. That pathetic man didn’t fill you this much?” Dean groans as he starts rocking his hips, thrusting in, pulling back, and then slamming into you. 

You were already cockdrunk. The perfect feeling of Dean’s large cock filling you up, cockhead ramming into your bundle of nerves. His rough thrusts caused the bed to squeak which mixed with your loud moans and groans, caused your cries for Dean to rougher. “Fucking slut, darlin’. You feel so fucking good. This ass was made for me.” 

His praises sent you to spiral more. You then feel Dean’s worn hand wrapping around your throat, squeezing it but not hard enough to close your airways. Eye contact was made as Dean looked down– you were fucked beyond your comprehension. Drool seeped through the corners of your mouth, and your eyes rolled back as you gripped the bed sheets. “Who owns you, darlin’?” Dean growls as he grips your hips. 

“Y-you! I’m all yours!” you cried as tears rolled down your face from the stimulation. You were desperately trying to keep up with Dean. With your prostate being consistently abused, you were on the verge of prostate orgasm. 

“Atta, boy. You fucking belong to me. No longer than the pathetic excuse of a man. Only me! That’s all you need! Me…Only I get to see you like this.” Dean growls as his thrust gets sloppier. His breathing was getting heavier, your ass was heaven and it was about to send him there too. “Keep speaking. I wanna hear your voice, keep telling me who you belong to.”

You began babbling that you belonged to him repeatedly. Your mind was completely fucked to the ground. The only thing was pleasure surging through your body, your aching cock throbbing and swinging. 

Dean was internally patting himself on the back. You were wrapped around his finger. His dreams throughout the years were finally coming true. He could have the future he had planned since he was eighteen.

With each bucking and rocking of his hips, you grew closer and closer to your orgasm. Desperate for your orgasm, you began pushing back against him, attempting to match the rhythm of his thrusts. You were driving each other crazy, your bodies covered in sweat, mixing with the stench of sex filling the room. The sound of skin slapping, the symphony of your moans and his groans, and the bed squeaking; heavenly music that Dean could do every day if you were up for that. 

“So fucking good, darlin’. You’re perfect for me. I don’t care if we’re stepbrothers, you were always more than that since the day I met.” Dean moans as his breathing began to hitch, his large cock throbbing. He began praising you, making sure you would come undone. “I-I’m gonna cum… cum with me, darlin’,” Dean whines as he wraps his hand around your cock to ensure you both cum at the same time. 

Both of your breathings got rugged. Your ass trying to milk Dean’s cock off its thick creamy load, and Dean stroking your aching cock while he rams into your prostate. “I-I’m cumming!” Dean growls as he collapses onto your body, biting your shoulder harshly. Your cock exploded, its thick load coating Dean’s hand and your chest. 

Dean roars as he gives one final thrust, his cock throbbing, balls churning its load before his spend was flooding your velvety walls, painting your insides white. He groans as this is the best orgasm in his life. The ecstasy lasted for a few minutes, Dean licking the wound on your shoulder. The iron taste of blood touched his taste buds as he licked it clean. Now, people will know who you belong to. He was going to make sure of that to everyone. 

“I love you darlin’,” Dean says as he pulls his flaccid cock out, a loud squelch and pop echo as a wave of his thick cum gushes out. He bred you well. The older Winchester lay down and pulled you closer to him, wanting you to nuzzle into his body. 

The sounds of ragged breathing as you both calm down from the intense session. You cuddled into Dean’s larger body and you could feel his cum oozing out your abused hole. “I love you too.” You said as you slowly drifted off to sleep, Dean’s heartbeat comforting you. 

Dean was satisfied with how things turned out. He finally got everything he wanted. 

Your feelings and his went in opposite directions, but you both came back in a Full Circle.

THE END

A/N: Hello, my strawberries! Wow, this is the longest fic I made in a while. I do hope you’ll enjoy this. Very special thanks to my proofreader, @sagethegaywitch

Your conversation with your hot classmate was interrupted by your 'boyfriend'. Nate's rough hand gripping your shoulder with a little more force than necessary; he was clearly trying to make a point. His face was as douche-y as ever, his jaw sharp enough to cut, his eyes seductive, and a barely noticeable smirk on his lips. Few words were exchanged, a small 'hey' and some stupid excuse about needing to talk to you alone - but you could understand the subtext; Nate was pissed, as he so often was. As the two of you walked through the emptying corridors, you studied Nate, in aims to guess what exactly you were in for. You walked behind the taller man, taking in his broad, tall figure; Nate was the star quarterback of your college, it made sense that his shoulders were wide and his back was muscular. His arms were built too, swaying slightly as he walked in front of you, his walk masculine and effortlessly dominant - damn, even though you were already getting annoyed at the man, you couldn't help but be very, very attracted to him.

After what felt like hours of awkward silence, the two of you finally reached wherever Nate wanted to take you. The boy's locker room - dirty as always, but quiet for once, the final bell having rang a good while ago. Immediately, you were backed up against a wall; the cool tiles of the locker room against your skin as you stared up into Nate's dark eyes, waiting for him to say something. The taller man looked you over in silence for a moment, his hands in his pockets and his jaw obviously clenched, his demeanor trying to stay cool; but you know him too well for his act to work on you.

"The fuck you think you're doin' letting that dick woo you 'n shit?" Nate spits out, his tone not obviously angry but rather spiteful

"Huh? He wasn't- Even if he were flirting with me, why's it my responsibility to stop him?" You rebuttal. Nate's jealousy was annoying, but you have to admit that you like it when he gets like this; and you like pushing his buttons even more.

"Probably 'cause you're my fucking... 'cause you're mine." Nate hesitates, anger starting to seep through via the sound of his voice and his actions; his hands darting out from his pockets to make a 'what' gesture.

"Hm hm! You can't even bring yourself to call me your boyfriend! You're the one who wanted whatever this is to never go public, Nate." You say with a chuckle, emphasizing your situation by gesturing circles with your finger. "So don't get all pissy with me 'cause some guy is flirting with someone who is single in everyone's eyes!" You bark back at your boyfriend, your words calculated and shooting to kill.

"Stop being such a bitch, (Y/n)." Nate scowls, his eyes fixated on yours. He's back to his cool and collected self; not a good sign.

"Make. Me." You scowl back.

Without a second thought, Nate had already darted towards you; his hand grabbing your cheeks and forcing your face towards his, Nate's other hand resting on the wall above you in a fist. It was a blur, that's how fast the livid man was moving. Within milliseconds, Nate's lips were crashing against your own; his manly, rough hand squishing your cheeks to force your lips apart in order for him to explore your mouth with his tongue. The quarterback knew you like the back of his hand, his tongue toying with yours in a familiar rhythm, his other hand sliding down the wall to grab your waist; pulling your smaller frame into his massive, built body. Instinctively, your hands slide up Nate's body, feeling up the peaks and valleys of the jock's muscular abs and chest, then settling for gripping one hand in his shirt and another on his buff shoulder as you return the kiss. He must've just finished practice, his shirt damp with sweat and sticking to his bulging muscles. The steamy make-out session seemed to last forever; Nate's lips constantly pushed against your own, and his tongue practically colonizing your mouth. But finally, the brunette broke away from you, his face just an inch away from yours as his rugged and uneven panting bounced off of your lips. Fuck. Nate looked so hot. You kept your eyes locked onto his, looking up at your boyfriend expectantly as you waited for him to make another move. But Nate had other plans.

Abruptly, the close feeling of Nate's sweaty, jacked body on yours was gone - replaced by the cold, humid air of the locker room. You watched as Nate walked over to the shower cubicles, not moving to follow along.

"You fuckin' coming or what?" Nate probes as he turns to face you but keeps walking backwards into the cubicle; his pokerface still in full effect, hiding the scorching anger and possessiveness beneath the surface.

With a roll of your eyes, you follow your boyfriend into the cubicle; shamelessly eyeing his up as he strips his varsity t-shirt off with one hand, his muscles flexing erotically. You follow suit and take off your top, but your hand is halted to a stop by your boyfriend's grip when you reach for your pants. You roll your eyes once more at Nate's childish behaviour but let him do what he wants; resulting in you being backed up once again against the shower door, Nate sliding down your pants and feeling up your thick thighs and ass. The two of you are back to making out, only that this time you're both naked - Nate gripping and kneading your asscheeks like dough, his large, rough hands juxtaposed against the smooth skin of your body. His tongue toyed with yours as small moans escaped your throat and were swallowed by Nate; his ego swelling up subconsciously, knowing that just kissing you is getting those sounds out of you. Wrapping your arms around your boyfriend's thick neck, your breath hitches in your throat at Nate's sudden lifting of your body - his strong arms holding your thighs up, your body squished between the shower cubicle and his buff body, Nate resting you on hip so that he could grind into you as he kept passionately kissing you. Your arms tighten around Nate's neck, peaking down at him as your mouth continues to be dominated by the quarterback; your boner very obviously rubbing up on your boyfriend's six-pack as you let your body be taken over by excitement and lust.

Nate finally breaks the kiss. Forcing his lips away from yours and taking in the sight before him - his hot boyfriend panting like a dog in heat just from kissing him, a string of thick spit connecting your lips you his, and your face flushed light pink while your eyes glaze over lightly with tears and lust. You let out a whine as Nate starts to kiss your neck. Targeting the spots that he knows make your mind go numb, that will make you let out the noises Nate jerks off to. Mewl after whine leaves your lips, quiet but definitely there; the sounds you make and the way you move your head and contort your face, it's all so fucking hot to Nate. You can feel as the well-endowed man goes from gentle grinds of his dick to full on dry-humping you - the feeling of his huge dick poking against your ass, it's one that you're now able to recognize within a second.

"You want this dick? Want me to fuck you right now? Stop being such a little bitch 'n I'll fuck you good, babe" Nate lightly grunts out against your skin as he continues to gently mark you.

"Ha ha... Seems like you want it more than me, sweetheart~" you tease

"You're so fucking difficult" Nate mumbles, making a point to bite your collarbone a little harder

"H-ah! -You fucking love it" you grunt out, the (pleasurable) bite interrupting what was meant to be a quick-witted reply.

After a little more foreplay, Nate's patience had finally worn thin; his dick about to explode from how pent up he was. So once Nate was satisfied with the state of your upper body (that being: your neck, shoulders and nipples being covered in hickeys and bite marks), he made his move. Nate manhandled into somehow only holding you up with one of his arms (holy shit this man is scary strong) and began undoing his pants with his free hand; dropping his draws as quickly yet as effortlessly as he could. With his Calvin Klein's and jeans around his ankle's, Nate slipped a condom on easily and lined his 8 inch monster up to your hole; his tip pressing against your entrance, a feeling all too familiar to the both of you - you two fuck like it's a hobby! With no warning at all, in a jealous attempt at getting you back for being a flirt, Nate thrusted his hips up into yours; his dick forcing all the way inside of you. Thank god that condoms come pre-lubed - 'cause HOLY SHIT THAT HURT. You yelp in pain and instinctively bite your boyfriend's muscular shoulder; stifling your moans of pleasure and trying to distract from the pain. Your eyes immediately flushed red, glazing over with tears as the sting of Nate's girthy, long dick pried your walls apart. Even with the condom on, you could still clearly feel Nate's veins, his dick pushing against your walls so snuggly that without even trying, the man was pressing against your prostate already. Your hands gripped the brunette's biceps harshly, your fingers digging into his skin as you try to register the intense feelings of pain and pleasure combining and co-attacking your brain. But you don't have very long to try and get used to your boyfriend's absolute weapon, 'cause he can only be so nice - thirty seconds of holding back is more than enough! He's still fucking seething mind you! Nate's jealousy is only getting grander, rather than lessening at the feeling of fucking you; he felt even more possessive, even more jealous, like a wild animal resource guarding what his.

Moans escape your throat involuntarily. Groans, pants, and whines getting forced out of your throat from the sheer impact of Nate's hips against your ass. Your legs tighten around your boyfriend's small yet muscular waist, your arms having moved from gripping Nate's arms back to wrapping around his neck; visible scratch marks forming all over the jock's massive, buff back. Nate's one arm is holding you up against the shower cubicle as his other hand is slammed against the door above your head; his fucking massive, rough, sweaty palm against the cold plastic cubicle door being the only thing kind of grounding the sex-crazed version of Nate in the moment. As his dick thrusts in and out of your tight, warm hole, Nate keeps mumbling different mantras to himself; nursing his bruised ego, the only thing he can think about being you with other guys. A carousel of 'mine... all mine, mine, mine' , '(y/n)..' , and 'fuckin' belong t'me' being on loop as your boyfriend fucks you like a mad man. The few moments of silence Nate did have were due to him going back to marking up your body as he continues to fuck you silly. His strong, sharp incisors pressing against your soft neck; sometimes much too harshly.

"Fuck! NATE you're biting too hard!" You shout, pissed off at the man. But your anger doesn't last very long, it can't when your boyfriend's thick dick is assaulting your prostate every other second; sending insane waves of pleasure through your core, and most importantly: your dick.

Your legs dangled on either side of Nate's waist; feet bouncing in rhythm with each one of the quarterback's hard thrusts. You didn't even have to hold yourself up anymore (not that you even could from the fucking you were getting), Nate's arms were able to hold your weight easily, and you were also literally squished up between the wall and Nate's sweaty, ripped body. You could feel Nate getting closer to orgasm, his usual tells showing up like usual; his eyes forcing shut as he focuses on keeping his pace, his hair sticking to his forehead with sweat, his kisses getting softer and softer, despite his pace getting rougher and rougher. Finally, Nate was pushed over the edge - or more so he was fucking lobbed over the edge from the intensity of his orgasm. The brunette was moaning louder than usual, your name falling off of his tongue more than normal, amongst his usual 'fuck fuck fuck fuck fuck's. You weren't too far behind, between Nate's constant pounding into your prostate and the fucking HOT sight before you, it didn't take you more than a minuet to follow suit and shoot your load onto your chest and Nate's. That man always made you cum untouched. He had the skills but it was mostly the way Nate looked that pushed you over the edge most of the time; c'mon, he always looked so hot fucking you like his life depended on it! And this time it was no different! His muscles gleaming with a sheen of sweat, Nate's arm flexing as he continued to hold himself up, his damp armpit hair showing ever so slightly; he just always looked so fucking manly, Nate really was your ideal guy...

"Haaa... Haa.... See? Don't need dick from any other guy- haaa- so stop being such a tease and fucking stop flirting with other guys" Nate grunted out. His voice rugged, panting as he tried to regain his breath.

"hngggg.... fuck~ I wasn't flirting! I'll tell guys to back off when you tell them that I'm your boyfriend" you retort, your breath still uneven and pleasure still tingling throughout your body.

Nate chuckles and looks into your eyes for a moment. You can tell he's thinking, something he rarely fucking does, but you don't know what thoughts are running through his head exactly. But here's a little snipped:

'Fuck I love him so much... FUCK WHY DO I LOVE HIM'

'He's mine. My boyfriend. Don't give a fuck about what people think'

'Shit... I do care what others think'

'Fuck it.'

'No'

'Yes'

'No'

'YES'

"Fine.. Whatever you want, gorgeous~" Nate mumbles with the smallest smirk, and then leans down to give you a peck on the lips.

You smile back at him, hands gently cupping his face, and whisper a soft 'good'.

Bonus:

Nate's room was like your second home. You were there every other day, either sleeping round or just to hang out for a bit. Contrary to popular belief, your relationship with Nate wasn't all sex! You two did have a pretty wholesome relationship! It's just that you both loved having sex with eachother as well, so most of the time something sexual was bound to happen.

Like any other day, you were in Nate's room. Your hunk of a boyfriend at his desk playing whatever fps he was into at the moment, and you on his bed scrolling mindlessly. Finally having had enough of your phone, you make your way over to Nate, wanting some attention as always. You rest your arms around his neck and hug your boyfriend from behind, head resting against his shoulder as you mumble an 'I'm bored' into his ear. You watch as Nate finishes his round, his long fingers gliding over the controller; why the fuck was it turning you one...?! Once he's put his game away, Nate takes your hand and has you stand between his legs, looking up at you from his gaming chair with a soft, very small smile.

"What's up?" he asks.

Your hands instinctively cup your boyfriend's cheeks. His sharp jaw resting in your palms as he closes his eyes. You admire the man in front of you, his messy hair, his attractive features, but mostly how different he's become since you met him; he's so much kinder, less hurt than he seemed before.

"Just wanted some attention" you mumble, biting your bottom lip ever so slightly as you keep admiring Nate.

"Well... Depends what kind of attention ya want~" Nate teases, his typical horny smirk plastering across his face as his big, manly hands slide up the back of your thighs and reach your ass. Nate gently holds your plump cheeks in his rough hands, gently squeezing as he looks up at you expectantly.

"What did you have in mind, baby?" You playfully respond, knowing that the pet name had an effect on your boyfriend.

Nate pats his lap and gestures for you to sit, which you do. His hands keep cupping your ass as Nate's lips make their way to yours; soft kisses, the kind that really make you feel at ease. Nate slips his fingers under your waistband and slowly slides your shorts and underwear under your cheeks; gripping them softly and spreading them as he continues to softly kiss you. Bringing a hand up to your face, Nate gestures at you to suck on them; doing this by obscenely poking his cheek with his tongue as he smiles with his eyes. You do as your told, too lazy to put up your usual battiness.

After a brief moment of sucking on your boyfriend's two finger's as if they were his cock, Nate takes them out of your mouth and brings them back down to your hole. It's a feeling you're used to; one that you particularly enjoy. Hey! Nate's good with his fingers, what can ya do? As the two of you continue your previous kiss, Nate's fingers slowly push past your rim; your tight hole accepting them with ease. Knuckle deep, Nate reaches your prostate immediately, causing you to break the kiss and let out a small, quiet moan. Nate chuckles as you rest your head on his shoulder, gripping onto his sweatshirt as the quarterback continues to work your prostate to perfection; drawing out muffled moans and whimpers despite your best efforts to hold them in.

BEGINNING NOTES: ✨Dom/Top Dante* x Male Sub/Bottom Reader *Takes place between DMC 2 and 4 on the timeline; meaning Dante’s a bit angstier than normal--kinda Vergil-esc but he gets closer to normal at the end. ✨Unestablished relationship but everyone (including Dante) knows that you have a thing for him ✨The reader lives at the shop ✨Mentioned dark topics (nothing in depth but Dante having been suicidal is mentioned a few times) 🍊🍊🍊 ✨Fluff ✨Angst (? kinda) ✨Smut; Dante’s first time--the reader’s body count is not specified but it is implied you aren’t a virgin--meaning he is very sensitive to your touches. ✨Biting--draws blood and enjoys it. ✨Rougher--It’s not great but I wanted to try writing something a bit rougher, experimentation if you will.\ ✨Oral--Dante receiving ✨Reader gets emotional afterwards; like sad fluffy stuff. 🍊🍊🍊 ✨A little self-indulgent. I could’ve written this as G/N (and if anyone wants a re-write, I can totally do so) but I wanted something a bit gayer than normal smh ✨I know absolutely dick-diddly about motorcycles, so you best believe I just googled all of it lmao ✨Not used to writing Trish or Lady so they might be a bit OOC; if anyone has any better ideas for how they should sound (if they sound off) please let me know! I want to try and use them more often. ✨The reader uses Revenant (as per usual) and Ifrit. How can you use those wonderful gauntlets? You are just stubborn or strong enough to resist their demonic nature; idk just let me have this lmao. Demons are from DMC 1, 2, and/or 4 (Also I didn’t really feel like writing too much combat since “Bound by Blood” is so combat heavy, kinda got bored with it lmaoooo). ✨THIS IS NOT A PREQUEL TO “Deep Regret” THAT FIC. IS STILL IN THE WORKS (AND IS REALLY ANGSTY LMAO)

==

     “Really?” Trish leaned against the wall of the garage, watching both Lady and you work, “You sure we’re talking about the same Dante?”

     “What?” you set down the socket wrench and looked over at her, “Don’t believe me?”

     “No, not in the slightest,” she mindlessly looked at her nails as she continued, “I don’t think I’ve heard Dante say more than five words at once in years and you’re telling me--”

     “That he and I talk all the time?” You stood up, wiping your hands on your jeans, "I mean, we do live together-- what's so hard to believe?"

     Lady laughed, catching your attention, “Well, Dante’s not exactly the talking type anymore,” the raven-haired woman turned from the workbench, “Can’t say I blame her, hun.”

     “But that’s where you guys are wrong,” you sighed, “I mean, he’s not super talkative but we can hold a conversation for a good while,” you walked over to the stairs, grabbing your open beer on the way, and sat down with a huff, “You’re telling me that he doesn’t talk to you when you are on a job or anything?”

     Lady shook her head, “Do you know how rare it is for him to even say “hello” anymore?”

     “Bah,” you made a dismissive flick of your hand, “You two are full of shit, there is no way he’s that quiet.”

     Trish said something under her breath as she crouched down to check the work you'd done.

     “Huh?” You cupped your ear in a joking manner, “I’m getting deaf in my old age, Trish--you gotta speak up.”

     “I said,” she stood up and turned to look at you, “Maybe it is because Dante loves you.”

     Beer shot out your nose as you choked on it, going wide-eyed feeling flustered beyond belief. 

     “You can’t tell me you don’t have a thing for him,” the blonde walked over to Lady’s workbench, pushing up on the edge and sitting on the tabletop.

     “I do not!” 

     Lady shook her head, “It is painfully obvious that you have a crush on him,” she leaned her side on the bench, facing you, “I’m sure he knows, too.”

     “How is it obvious?! I mean--” You pursed your lips knowing you just dug your own grave.

     The women shared a laugh before Trish answered, “The two of you are practically joined at the hip.”

     Lady then jumped in, “He won't do anything without telling or asking you first.”

     "You're the only one allowed in his room."

     "And the only one that can use his weapons without him getting pissed, especially Rebellion."

     “Dante stares at your ass a lot.”

     Once again, you choked on your drink.

     Lady laughed at Trish’s comment with a shrug, “Can't fault him for that, you do have a nice ass.”

     The sound of the roller garage door being lifted caught everyone’s attention. In the doorway stood the very topic of the conversation with a few bags of groceries in his arms.

     “Welcome home, Dante!" You shot him a warm smile, "How'd shopping go?"

     Dante stared at you then at the women, “Why are they here?” His voice was cold and flat, his typical way of speaking nowadays. 

     “Oh!” Your voice was semi-cheery as you stood up, tossing the beer bottle in the nearby trash, “They stopped by right after you left. Asked to use the workshop for a bit.”

     He stared at them for a few more seconds before walking through the garage, past you, and into the shop.

     Lady grumbled to herself before sticking out a hand, gesturing at where he’d gone, “See! I told you!”

     “You two are looking too deep into it. Dante doesn’t,” you shrugged, “you know…”

     “Bullshit!” Lady pinched the bridge of her nose, “I swear-- if the two of you don’t hook up soon, I’m going to--”

     A quiet sound of a door being cracked open cut her off. Dante looked at you and quietly mumbled, “You coming?"

     “Huh? I-- Yeah,” you smiled at him, “I gotta finish the oil change and I’ll be in, okay?”

     He said nothing and shut the door. 

     Trish slid off the bench with a sigh, “Come on, let’s give the lover boys their room.”

     “Try not to break ol’ Dante," Lady jested as she picked up her tool bag, "He’s not as spry as he used to be."

      You flipped her off and she stuck out her tongue in return. As they left you meandered back to Dante’s bike, you couldn’t help but mull over what the girls said.

     “There’s no way that they are right,” your brow furrowed, “Dante is-- well, Dante. He’s a ladykiller, not into men… right? I mean, he has a mountain of bikini girl magazines-- ” 

     Lost in your thoughts, your hand slipped and you dropped the open bottle of oil, “Son of a fucking bitch!” 

     You snatched the bottle as quickly as possible but the damage was already done; over half of the contents were now in a black pool on the floor. A dejected grumble left your lips as you laid on your back, staring at the ceiling of the garage with a forearm resting across your forehead.

     “Everything okay?”

     “Hmm?” You tilted your head up slightly and saw that Dante was standing right at your feet, “Yeah… Just my good ol’ butterfingers…” Your head hit the concrete again as you sighed and looked at the mess, defeated. 

     His eyes trailed over to the oil on the floor before he wandered off. You propped yourself up on your elbows and saw Dante had grabbed the cat litter.

     “You don’t have to--” He looked at you for a moment before dumping the litter on the spill, “Thanks, I-- Sorry, that was like a brand new bottle,” you leaned up in a sitting position, “I promise I’ll clean it up and replace the bottle.”

     “It’s fine,” Dante stuck out a hand, helping you up. 

     As you got to your feet, you fell into him a bit and found yourself leaning on his chest. Your face instantly became hot as you froze. Strangely, Dante made no move to push you off of him or remove you, he just stood there and waited for you to do so yourself

     “Sorry, I didn’t mean to invade your space, hah…”

     Dante didn’t say anything, but rather, he grabbed your hand and pulled you inside the shop. On his desk was a box of fresh hot pizza and a few cold unopened beers. 

     Which in hindsight, you aren’t sure how he got the pizza. He didn’t have it when he entered the garage. Unless he got it delivered at the exact moment he got back… Or he had already stopped back in the foyer of the shop only to come around back to “interrupt” your conversation--but there’s no way he would do that, right?

     “So,” you grabbed a slice and sat on the edge of his desk, “What’s the special occasion?”

     “ ‘was hungry,” he grabbed a slice for himself and sat in his desk chair, putting his boots up on the tabletop.

     A look of shock spread across your face, “Really?"

     “What?”

     “It’s just,” you shook your head, “I’m just glad that you’re eating, is all," you smiled warmly, "It's nice."

     The red devil stared at you for a moment before continuing to eat. 

     Ever since defeating Nelo Angelo, Dante’s “human” habits had gradually deteriorated. He wouldn’t sleep, bathe, or even eat; any and all self-care was put on the back burner. You had to force the poor man to take care of himself--which is much easier said than done. 

     At one point, things got so bad that Trish acted more human than Dante. There was a small ray of hope, however; since Argosax’s defeat, Dante had begun to regain some small bits of life. He’d been bathing more often, eating every once in a while, and even smiling again. Most importantly, however, Dante hadn’t tried to off himself in almost six months which was a victory in and of itself for the tormented man; this, by extension, made you feel a little more at ease that the chance of you coming home to Dante on the cusp of death had slimmed significantly.

     “Hey,” you pursed your lips and waited for him to look at you in acknowledgment, “Do you care if I turn on some music?”

     He shrugged, "Don’t care."

     You hopped off the desk edge and waltzed over to the "well-loved" machine. Hitting a random track--and praying to god it worked--you went back to your resting spot against Dante's desk. The two of you sat and ate together, listening to the jukebox and enjoying the quiet company. 

===

     A loud knocking at the front door of the Devil May Cry woke you up. You must've fallen asleep downstairs. Across from you, in the middle of the room, was the coffee table with a TV that had been playing a DVD’s menu screen for only god knows how long. You were on your side and resting on the floor, in front of one of the couches… Even though there was an open couch adjacent to this one. 

     A large blanket was draped over you and onto the furniture behind you. That's when you heard a  snore and realized why you weren't on the couch. Dante was fast asleep and face down against the coffee-colored pleather. Goosebumps ran up your spine as you realized that his arm was across your chest, his fingers loosely grabbing the fabric of your shirt. Carefully, you slipped away from the sleeping devil and let out a soft groaning yawn as you stretched. 

     Another set of knocks. 

     You sighed and stood up, walking over to the door, opening it. 

     “Ah, good morning Mr. Morrison,” you smiled tiredly at the man, welcoming him into the shop.

     “You know, you make me feel old when you call me tha--” he stopped and stared at Dante, who was still asleep on the couch.

     A small huff of a laugh came from your nose as you whispered to Morrison, “I know. Shocking right?”

     His volume matched yours in return, “That would be an understatement," he turned to you, “Sorry to wake you but I have a job for the two of you that requires immediate attention,” he held out a manila folder.

     “What is it?” A flat voice asked, making both Morrison and you jump.

     After the two of you took a moment to calm down from the unexpected voice, the broker walked over to Dante and handed him the file, “Huge swarm invaded a nearby city--didn’t even have time to evacuate.”

     You walked over to Dante, peering over the edge of the file. He noticed your interest and scooched over to one side, allowing you to sit beside him. As you attempted to read, you found yourself leaning towards your partner, squinting harshly at the small text. Dante moved closer to you causing your sides to touch; which, despite how many times he’s been this close (and closer) to you, never failed to make your heart race. 

     As the two of you looked at the file, you couldn’t help but remember what the ladies had said yesterday; how stony he is to them compared to how acted with you. Dante might be a bit cold but he has his sweet moments--even if it’s him sharing paperwork filled with pictures of hundreds of demons and a destroyed cityscape.

     You whispered to Dante, “So, wanna do it?”

     His eyes flicked to you before he looked over the file once more, “Fine.”

     “Sweet!” With a jovial smile, you grabbed the paperwork. Your eyes flicked up at Morrison who moved to the edge of Dante’s desk, leaning on it with a lit cigar--as per usual, “We’ll take it!”

     The broker shook his head with a small smile, “I’m beginning to think you enjoy these types of jobs.”

     “Actually,” you stood up and walked over to him, “I do. Don’t have to worry about destroying things," you handed him the file which he grabbed.

     He laughed softly and shook his head, taking a puff of his cigar, “You two are quite the pair.”

     You tilted your head in confusion; that’s when you felt an exhale of air on the back of your neck, making your hair stand on end.

     “We takin' the bike?” Dante’s voice was low and his warm breath lightly tickled your ear.

     “Y-yeah,” you turned your head to the side and were only inches away from the sultry devil.

     His turquoise eyes locked onto your gaze for a few seconds before he gave a flat, “Ok,” and went upstairs to get changed. 

     Once the youngest son of Sparda was upstairs, Morrison laughed as he stood up from the desk, “I’ll let the city know you're on the way. You two be careful,” he nodded goodbye and headed for the door before stopping, turning his head over his shoulder to you, “Don’t forget that there is still a lot of people trapped and--”

     “And we should try and help them, don’t worry,” you winked at him, “Dante and I got this.”

     Morrison opened his mouth but said nothing; instead, he continued out the door whistling a tune to himself. 

     You raised a brow at the odd action but decided it was not worth dwelling on. 

     Humming to yourself, you made your way up to your room. One of the spare bedrooms of (The) Devil May Cry that you were “only staying in for a few months”... that was over a decade ago. A smile tugged at your lips as you reminisced about a time long since passed. 

===

     Rain quietly beat on the roof of (The) Devil May Cry as the well-loved jukebox played quietly in the background. It had been exactly a year since Dante had officially named the shop and begun to take jobs as a demon hunter. Sitting at the large wooden desk was said devil hunter without a shirt on, only opting to wear his pants and boots. His arms were placed neatly on the top of his desk with his head resting on them, facing down at the tabletop, snoring happily. A half-eaten pizza and several empty beers were scattered about, painting the same old scene that he partook in night after night. 

     That’s when you showed up in his life. 

     You burst into the shop, stumbling and out of breath; leaning against the door, holding it shut. 

     “We’re closed,” Dante didn’t even open his eyes. 

     Before you could reply, obnoxious loud banging and shouting could be heard from the other side of the door. Dante raised a brow and tiredly looked up at you, curious as to what was pursuing you so fervently. The shirtless young man’s ears twitched as he made out what was on the other side of the large wooden door; it wasn’t demons or devils, it was humans. A mob of what sounded like fifteen to twenty people that were spouting off insults that ranged from vaguely rude statements to flat-out death threats. 

     Dante sighed, standing up from his desk with a huff. Casually, he grabbed Force Edge from the wall it was resting against, walking over to you. 

     You, of course, were terrified, debating if it was better to take your chances outside. Bursting into some random dude’s shop was dumb but you didn’t expect a smoking hot white-haired man (who was possibly the owner) to approach you with a massive gothic sword. 

     He flicked his hand telling you to move off to the side, which you fearfully obliged. With a warm, soft, friendly feeling, he smiled at you revealing his oddly sharp teeth, “You’re gonna owe me for this,” your face instantly became flushed in embarrassment.

     Dante opened the door wide open and stepped out of the shop, the large blade resting on his shoulder. As he slowly went down each stair, the mob backed up away from him, “I’m only gonna say this once,” his voice was cold, loud, and angry, the complete opposite of what you’d just heard, “Get lost.”

     One of the group’s men decided to act tough and approached Dante, “And if we don’t? What are you gonna--!”

     The red devil grabbed the man by the face and held him up, not phased by the man’s struggling, “You know, I hate people like you,” his fingers tightened, “People that just don’t know how to listen.”

     Muffled complaints came from the man as Dante’s fingers tightened further before tossing him at the others, knocking several of them over. They helped each other stand back up but none of them moved to leave. 

     “Now scram,” Dante’s brow furrowed, “Last chance before you really start pissin’ me off.”

     With that final warning, the group ran like the wind and disappeared. A small laugh came from the red devil as he re-entered the shop. 

     “So,” Dante set Force Edge back where it was, “What is a guy like you doin’ being chased by a mob at this hour, huh?” He leaned against the edge of his desk, folding his arms. 

     “I uh,” your face became hotter and hotter as you looked at the smiling man, calling him stunning was an understatement. It didn’t help that he was lightly soaked from the rain which was dripping down his body, emphasizing his physique, “I just pissed off the wrong folks, that’s all.”

     “Uh-huh,” Dante pushed off his desk and wandered over to you, “That why you smell like gunpowder, blood, and demons? Or’s that some sort of weird cologne?”

     You froze.

     “You know," he continued, "it’s not every day I get to meet someone in the same line of work as me,” he now stood in front of you, his hands stuck in his pockets and a casual tilt to his posture. 

     “I-- What?”

     Dante’s smile widened, “You’re a demon hunter, right?” 

     Your expression said it all, making the young man laugh.

     “Now,” he turned from you striding over to the corner of the room, “as payment for waking me up from my nap,” the white-haired man stood near one of the couches, grabbing his black long-sleeve shirt off the back, “You’re gonna take me with you to finish your hunt.”

     As he slid the tight fabric over his body, all you could do was stare. Not only was watching him get dressed semi-erotic, but, the idea that you’d finally met someone else who enjoyed demon hunting like you do was enough to send shivers down your spine.

     “That’s what you were doing right?” The red-clad man raised a brow as he slid on his vest, buckling the straps.

     You blinked back into existence with a nod, “Yeah, you sure you want to come with? It isn’t exactly a small job, and,” you avoided his gaze, “it’s not only demons.”

     “There are cultists, too--I know,” Dante slid on his gloves, “Figured that out the moment I saw ‘em outside,” he tossed his coat on, adjusting the lapels.

     “O-oh…”

     He meandered over to the same sword from earlier, placing it on his back, “So,” he raised a brow, “We doin’ this or what?”

     You smiled sheepishly, “Sure.”

     “Ah… Almost forgot,” Dante turned around and opened a desk drawer, grabbing his keys, “Here, catch,” he tossed you a box of shells, “Those work?”

     “Really-- I- Yeah, why are you..?”

     Dante began to walk out the door, you right behind him, “Can’t do all the work myself, babe,” he turned to you with a smile.

     After he locked the door, you led him to a building that was right outside of Red Grave; it was an old abandoned apartment complex. The two of you made quick work of the job; given, it was half-finished from your earlier attack.

     Despite not even knowing each other’s names, the two of you fought together quite well. Neither of you got in each other’s way. When you did interact, it was damn near perfectly choreographed; as if you’d known each other for a long time.

     “You know,” Dante dodged a Death Scissors, “You’re pretty good at this.”

     “Oh yeah?” A small amount of playful sarcasm loomed over your words, “I’m still not impressed with you,” you ducked underneath a Frost’s attack and shot it right in the small of its back, “mister white-haired stranger.”

     “Eh,” he used Force Edge to slice three Abyss in half, “Had to leave you something to fight.”

     Both of you shared a laugh and stood in the middle of the room, looking around at the carnage. Dante turned to see a cultist trying to escape. The red devil pointed Ebony up and shot the human, much to your dismay.

     “Hey,” you shoved his shoulder, “You stole my final kill.”

     “Oh,” he holstered Ebony and turned to you, “Didn’t see your name on ‘em, sorry.”

     You playfully rolled your eyes and sighed, “Thanks for your help,” you avoided his eyes, which were trained on your face, “I appreciate it.”

     “No problem,” Dante smiled, “This was fun, been a long time since I’ve had a partner to work with,” he stretched his arms upwards, cracking his shoulders, “Lady’s been off doing her own thing lately.”

     “Lady?” You raised a brow, suspicious of the red devil’s seemingly fake person.

     “She’s an old friend,” Dante and you began to descend back down the building’s stairs. It wasn’t until the two of you got outside before he spoke again, “Hey, so,” his voice was quieter than before, “You work by yourself all the time or?”

     “Yeah,” you sighed and placed a hand on the back of your neck, “Never been able to find someone who’d join me on a hunt.”

     “Well,” Dante put his hands in his pockets, “If you want, I’ve got an open spot at my shop...”

     “Really?”

     “Mhm, haven’t had a partner in a while and could use the company.”

     You laughed.

     “What?”

     “I don’t even know your name and you are offering me a job?”

     The red devil stuck out his hand, “Name’s Dante.”

     You smiled and shook his hand, “Well, Dante, I think I’ll take up that job offer,” you sheepishly turned your head away and mumbled, “I think I could use some company, too.”

===

     “You coming?” 

     A sudden flat voice from your doorway made you jump with a loud startled shout. Quickly, you turned around to see Dante, fully geared up, and leaning against your doorframe with his arms neatly folded.

     “I- Yeah, sorry,” you shook your head, “Just lost in thought.”

     Dante stood up, saying nothing, and headed back downstairs into the garage. 

     With pursed lips, you continued to get ready; that’s when it hit you. Dante must've been standing there for quite some time, watching you; you who was standing in bagging half falling off underwear the entire time. Your face became hot, the idea of Dante seeing you this exposed was enough to make your mind reel. Shaking off the growing hot feeling, you shoved yourself into your hunting gear; which included Dante’s Ifrit and your shotgun, Revenant.

     Upon reaching the garage, you saw that Dante had already started the bike and was waiting outside for you to join him. Although you weren’t sure, you swear it looked like he was smiling at you; only hinted at by small creases in his cheeks. You joined him in the alley with a stuck-out hand, waiting for Rebellion, which he gave you. As you slid the sword on your back, you flashed a wide smile and playful wink at Dante. Then you mounted the back of the bike and a heavy wave of embarrassment filled your face as you firmly placed your hands on Dante’s waist. 

     Without a word, Dante kicked up the stand and you were off. As you held onto him, you couldn’t help but lean further onto his body, your face against his back. His cologne was that of lemongrass, lavender, and a light dusting of patchouli. You took a deep inhale, sighing longingly at the comforting scent; which didn’t go unnoticed by the white-haired hunter. 

     The two of you arrived shortly at the nearby city. Once both of you dismounted the bike, Dante stuck his hand out--mimicking what you’d done earlier. With a smirk, you pulled Rebellion off your back and held it out in front of you, blade facing down and your fingers tightly wrapped around the grip. The red devil grabbed the sword, making sure to just barely ghost your hand with his in the process. 

     A bright blush adorned your face as you gave him a small content laugh and looked at the less-then-happy scene before you. To say that the place was crawling with demons would’ve been an understatement. 

     An irritated long groan came from you as you slumped forward, “Those pictures must’ve been old; this is so much worse,” you looked over at Dante who was staring at you, “Wanna call in the ladies?”

     “No,” he turned from you and began to walk toward the city.

     With a baffled sigh, you shook your head and jogged to catch up to him, walking right beside him.

     When the two of you got to the edge of the zone, a large platoon of soldiers was along the city’s edge. As expected, the two of you were approached by the armed people and questioned as to why you were there. 

     You sighed softly, “We were hired by the city to come in and exterminate the infestation.”

     A mixture of various “bullshit”s and “no way”s were heard throughout the platoon. A greatly unamused Dante slyly reached down and grabbed one of your fingers with one of his, a sign he used when he wanted to move forwards.

     “Just stay out of our way,” you shoved past the soldiers, Dante right beside you. Before you got too far, you stopped and turned to the men, “Wait about thirty minutes and start sweeping this end of the city for survivors, continuing further inwards; we’ll have most of the demons cleared out for you.”

     Once more there were various forms of ill-natured or overly skeptical comments from the crowd; but, after all these years of hunting, it was expected at this point. The two of you just continued onwards, Dante’s finger still wrapped around one of yours.

     It didn’t take long for you to encounter a horde. At first, you were excited and readied Ifrit; however, Dante has taken up to not allowing you to fight anything more than Misras or Frosts. Today was no different.

     You vocalized your irritation (as you had done many times before) but it always fell on deaf ears, Dante simply didn’t care. Things came to a head when you were nearly finished with the job and the red devil had been nearly gutted by a group of demons but he still wouldn’t let you fight.

     “Dante,” you furrowed your brow as the two of you walked on, “Could you at least let me kill something? I’m getting bored with fighting small fries and playing cheerleader.”

     The red devil stopped and looked over at you, but said nothing.

     “Come on,” you made your best puppy dog eyes and stuck out your lip in a pouty manner, “Please?”

     “I can handle it,” he turned to continue on the path, “You are a human; humans are fragile.”

     “Excuse me?” You walked beside him, “You forget you’re human, too?” 

     “I can heal within seconds,” he glared at you from the corner of his eye, “You can’t.”

     You moved your jaw in thought, mulling over things before speaking again, “Yes, but that doesn’t mean you should push yourself like this,” the red devil’s head turned slightly, indicating he was listening, “Just ‘cause you can heal…” You reached out and lightly grabbed his bicep, “I’m your partner, remember? I’m here to help you.”

     Dante stopped and pivoted to look at you. His brow was slightly upturned and his eyes held an odd unplaceable emotion, “I know.”

     A small sad tilt decorated your brow as you lightly squeezed his arm before letting go. You had an inkling as to why he acted this way but had never been able to be sure; hell would have to freeze over before you’d get a clear answer from the red-clad half-breed.

     The two of you entered the center of the city where the demons seemed to have come from. In the middle of the large leveled area was a large mass of sorts. Both of you knew exactly what it was, the start of a demon nest.

     Almost as if on cue, an insurmountably large quantity of demons revealed themselves. The two of you split apart. Finally, you were able to fight something decent and were relishing in it. Your targets were, for the most part, Blades and Gladiuses; which wasn’t that big of a challenge but it is better than nothing. A smile shot across your face as you got to have some fun with Ifrit for the first time in years.

     In the complete opposite of an over-strained Dante trying to deal with several Plasmas and Blitzes.

     You had nearly finished up your half (well more like two-thirds) of the horde and destroyed the budding nest before you noticed Dante struggling. Quickly, you killed the last of your targets and rushed over to help the red devil, who had just been thrown through a building. 

     “Dante!” You kneeled down by him, “Hey, you alright?”

     “I’m… fine,” his voice was strained as he tried to sit upright, only to bare his teeth with a grimace.

     “Stay here, I’ll take care of this,” you stood up but found that your wrist was ensnared by Dante’s grasp.

     “No,” he attempted to stand again.

     “Dante, I can handle them,” you tugged your hand away, “Let go of me, please.”

     His expression was blank as his fingers only tightened around you.

     “Dante…” Now, you are starting to get irritated.

     “I can handle them, just let me do it,” he stood up and you saw that his ribcage had concaved, clearly broken.

     “No Dante-- You are in no condition to fight right now,” you pursed your lips, “I can finish this,” giving him one last chance to let go.

     “No, I am fine.”

     “Goddamnit Dante!” You snapped at him and yanked your hands out of Ifrit’s gauntlets, removing Dante’s grip on you, “You’re always protecting everyone else, so please, for once in your life,” you stalked over to Rebellion, which had been stuck in the ground nearby when Dante attempted to stop himself, grabbed it tightly and turned back to him, “Let me protect you.”

     His eyes widened, showing a mixture of confusion and anger, but you didn’t give him a chance to refuse. You had already gone off and were slaying the rest of the demons using Rebellion. If Dante wanted you to stop, he could have recalled his sword; he should’ve recalled the blade but, for some reason, he couldn’t bring himself to.

     Although you were still concerned for Dante, you couldn’t deny that you were having the time of your life. You'd only been allowed to use Rebellion one other time on the field, which was shortly after being hired at the DMC. The feeling of wielding such a mighty blade was insurmountable; not only that, but the frictionless feeling of slicing through demons was damn near erotic. A wide smile spread across your face as you finished off the final few demons, pinning the final Plasma down into the ground using the blade. 

     “You could’ve gotten hurt.”

     “You’re just jealous that I got more kills than you,” with a playful shake of your head and a small laugh, you pulled Rebellion back out of the ground and turned around. Dante had healed and was giving you quite the venomous glare, your expression dropped, “What?”

     He aggressively grabbed the sword from your hand, placed it on his back, and turned to walk back the way you came, “We’re leaving.”

     You bent down and picked up Ifrit, sliding the fiery devil’s gauntlets back on, “Huh? We haven’t done our sweep back--”

     “Now!” His voice was much angrier than you’d heard in a long time, so you remained silent and followed behind him. 

     The walk and ride back to the shop were eerily quiet. Neither of you said a word, not even to the soldiers that you passed in the city. During the bike ride, you did your best not to latch onto the red devil and held onto the bike itself--which wasn't exactly comfortable or easy, but you were pissed off and didn't care.

     As the two of you entered the shop, you had thought about saying something to the devil but weren’t going to give him that satisfaction; no, you just silently went up to your room and slammed the door behind you. Leaving him in the foyer, alone.

     Doing your best to ignore the guilty feeling in your gut, you hopped in a quick shower and took a small unintentional cat nap on your bed right after. Around an hour later, you woke up and groggily wandered downstairs to get a glass of water--and to see where Dante had gone. As you looked around, you pursed your lips in confusion. Dante typically after a job would just get drunk at his desk or on the couch but he was nowhere to be found. It was rare for him to actually go to his room; but, then again, it is even rarer for the two of you to have a disagreement or fight like this. A sigh left your lips as you traversed back to your room. A small amount of regret lingered at the edges of your mind for using such harsh words at the poor devil.

     Mindlessly, you had wandered to stand in front of his room and stood there with your hand up, ready to knock. After a minute you decided to put your hand back down, hoping that maybe he’d be the one to come to you and apologize for once. With a heavy sigh, you entered your room and turned the light on, then nearly had a heart attack. 

     There, sitting silently on the edge of your bed, was Dante in his boxers and a long-sleeve black baggy shirt. His forearms were resting on his legs--one of which was bouncing nervously, his hands intertwined as he mindlessly twisted and played with his fingers, and his gaze fixated on the floor.

     “Uh… Dante? Everything okay?” You shut the door, set your glass of water down, and slowly walked over to the bed, sitting beside him. 

     “You remember why I hired you?” His voice was soft and sad, something was wrong.

     You shook your head, confused at the seemingly out-of-nowhere question, “Huh?”

     “Do you remember why I hired you?”

     “Because you said you needed company..?”

     His lips twitched at the answer; however, he said nothing and just stared at the floorboards in front of him.

     “Dante?” You gently and cautiously grabbed his forearm, making his leg stop bouncing.

     His voice became even softer, becoming barely audible, “Do you regret it?”

     Your brow softened as your fingers gripped him tighter, “Dante…” 

     His brow furrowed as he moved his jaw for a second before giving you a sad huffed laugh, “I wouldn’t blame you if--”

     “Stop,” you stood up and moved to stand in front of him, then knelt between his legs, “Look at me,” his eyes coyly met yours as you grabbed both his hands, “I have never regretted anything I’ve done with you, nor will I ever.”

     A small quiver found its way to Dante’s lip, “Why?”

     “What do you mean why?” You gave him a bittersweet smile, “I like being with you, Dante.”

     He opened his mouth but no sound came out, only a crack and a small whimper as tears filled his eyes. Then you did what you should’ve done the moment he started talking, you stood up and enveloped him in a tight hug. Dante quickly wrapped himself around you. The red devil’s fingers dug into your back and grabbed generous handfuls of your shirt. 

     Half-formed sentences and choked-up versions of “I’m sorry” are all that he could manage through the unwavering barrage of tears. All you could do was hold him tight and tell him that everything’s okay--that he doesn’t have to apologize, not for breaking down like this. Gently, you kneaded against his shoulder blades and placed one hand in his hair, petting him. You noticed his hair was wet; which, not only meant that’s where he was when you were searching for him but, this was the first time he'd taken a real shower in nearly three weeks. It seemed like a lifetime had passed before his tears began to slow, eventually boiling down to just small hiccups. 

     However, his hold on you didn’t loosen, if anything, it got tighter. You had placed the side of your face against the top of his head and quietly hummed, hoping to comfort him.

     “Hey…” Dante’s voice was thick and quiet, a hint of nervousness ghosted his words.

     “Hm?”

     “Would it be okay to stay like this? Just for a little longer…” He waited with bated breath for your response.

     “Mnmm… How about this,” you pulled back from him, making him hesitantly release you. A small warm smile tugged at your lips as you straddled his lap and re-wrapped yourself around him with your legs around his middle, “This okay?”

     Through your shirt, you could feel Dante hum with a small smile, “Mhm,” his arms regrafted themselves to your body as he pushed his head into your body.

     The two of you sat together for nearly two hours, Dante softly purring against your skin as you lightly rubbed his back and played with his hair. If the front door hadn’t opened, the two of you would’ve stayed linked together for much longer. 

     “I’ll get it,” you slid off his lap but were stopped by Dante grabbing your wrist.

     “Do you have to?” His expression was oddly shy, which sent a sharp pang of love through your heart.

     “Join me?” You smiled as you pulled him up. A small surprised laugh left your mouth as you felt him lace your fingers together.

     A bright smile adorned your face as the two of you made your way downstairs and found Morrison standing in the foyer.

     “Afternoon, Mr. Morrison!” You waved with a small happy noise but realized that he was staring with wide eyes. 

     “I’m not… interrupting, am I..?”

     You stared at him in confusion before you realized how the two of you looked; both of you were semi-disheveled, only in underwear and a shirt, and Dante’s hand was in yours, “No! No- not at all! We-- It’s not what it--”

     “You are," Dante released your hand, moving further into the room, “but it is my fault for not locking the door. What’s up?”

     A sputtered confused noise left your lips as your face became unbearably hot, mortified at what Dante was implying.

     Morrison laughed, “Blunt as always, huh Dante?” 

     “Why bother lying about it,” Dante leaned against his desk, arms folded casually.

     The broker shook his head with a smile, “I’m just here to drop off payment from the job earlier,” he handed Dante a thick envelope, “The client was impressed with how quickly the two of you worked--made sure to get it to you just as fast and added a little extra cash, too.”

     “Oh? Really?” Dante opened the packet and counted the cash quickly, “Huh… Thanks, Morrison.”

     Morrison did a double-take, taken aback at not only Dante’s words but, Dante’s willingness to talk, “No problem, Dante…” The broker looked over to you with a raised brow before turning to leave, “Sorry for interrupting, I’ll lock the door on the way out. Goodnight you two.”

     “ ‘Night, Mr. Morrison!” Your voice was sweet but still had a lingering sense of embarrassment to it. 

     Dante opened the top desk drawer and tossed the money in it, smiling.

     With a sudden nervousness, you approached the pants-less devil and joined him near the desk, “So… What was Morrison interrupting, Dante?”

     His turquoise eyes slowly moved up to meet yours, a heavy odd feeling behind them. 

     Your face became even hotter as you swallowed hard, “Dante..?”

     “We were sitting together,” small creases formed on his cheeks as he smiled wider, “Why? Did you have something else in mind?”

     Another loud set of sputtered discombobulated noises came from you, unsure how to respond to such a loaded question. 

     A dark chuckle came from Dante as he meandered over to you, slowly inching you towards the wall behind his desk, then placing a hand beside your head, “Something wrong?”

     “No, I--,” you closed your eyes and shook your head, trying to keep yourself from spontaneously combusting in embarrassment, “I’m f-fine.”

     He lifted a brow and placed his free hand on your cheek, running his fingers gently across your skin, “I dunno, you seem rather feverish… You’re not sick, are you?”

     “I’m just a little warm, that’s all,” you let out a half-hearted laugh, doing your best to ignore the pounding in your chest.

     The red devil wasn’t satisfied with this answer and moved his face closer, putting his nose right beside yours, and made half-lidded eye contact, “I don’t believe you.”

     Bit by bit, you leaned closer to him, placing your lips as close as you could without touching his. The two of you hovered for a moment before Dante pulled away and turned to look to his right, “Do you mind?”

     You mimicked Dante's action in confusion and saw Trish standing in the shop. 

     “Lady forgot a few things in the garage,” Trish raised a brow and addressed you, “You believe us now?”

     “Trish!” Dante’s face was bright red, “Seriously?”

     “What?” She placed a hand on her hip, “You do love him, don’t you?”

     Dante mumbled something you didn’t quite catch before his voice returned to the previous volume, “Can you leave? You’re kinda killing the moment.”

     “Just make sure that you two can work in the morning, we have a contract to do.”

     “Trish!”

     She gave you a wide smirk and a wink, “Have fun.”

     The two of you waited for the garage door to shut before Dante sighed, “Guess the moment’s kinda ruined, huh?” 

     He sheepishly turned to you, to which you grabbed his shirt and yanked his lips down to meet yours. A surprised muffled grunt came from the red devil as he placed his hand over yours, his thumb slowly running over your skin and removing you from his shirt. Gradually, he regained control over the situation and pushed you back against the wall. His lips were broiling and desperately pushing against yours, almost painfully so. 

     Dante grabbed the sides of your hips, picking you up slightly, so he could pin you against the wall using only his body and a knee that he had placed between your legs. Your hands frantically grabbed at his body, eventually settling for one hand in his hair and the other groping at his upper back. His hands wandered all over your body, sliding underneath your shirt and touching as much as you as he could. 

     Eventually, you managed to wrap your legs around his middle and his hands slipped down to support you from underneath your thighs. You cupped his face in both your hands to deepen the fervorous kissing. The red devil bit lightly at your lips, asking to enter your mouth. At first, you didn’t let him and playfully denied him entrance. Dante wanted to taste you and wasn’t taking no for an answer, forcing his tongue inside. His tongue was hot and he wanted nothing more than to explore every bit of your mouth, to devour as much as he could. The unexpectedly long appendage made you jolt and gag slightly in surprise, which made Dante smirk with a small amount of pride. 

     Only once you were both out of breath did the two of you separate, leaving you with labored breathing and hazy loving smiles. 

     Your thumbs gently rubbed the stubble that decorated his jawline, “Dante, do you really..?”

     He meekly smiled and mumbled, avoiding your eyes in embarrassment, “You think I’d treat anyone else like you..?”

     You placed a soft kiss on his forehead, “I love you… So much”

     A soft huffed laugh came from his nose.

     “What?”

     He placed a small kiss on the side of the base of your neck, “Never thought I’d hear you say that.”

     You laughed softly, “Dante,” he looked up at you and you ran a hand through his hair, “You want to know something?”

     “Hmm?” He began to purr and melt into your touch. 

     “Although, there’s obviously more a more emotional aspect now,” you broke eye contact and turned away to avoid his gaze, “When we first met if you had asked me to… ya know… I would’ve,” your face was completely on fire as you regretted opening your mouth.

     “Oh?” Using one hand to support you, he used a hand to turn your face to his, “What was that now?”

     Your voice was high-pitched and cracked from embarrassment, “N-nothing!” 

     He had a sultry smirk tugging at his lips as he ran his thumb over your trembling lips, “You know, I thought about asking for that--instead of joining your hunt.”

     “You-- you did?” Your face only became hotter with each word.

     “Mhm,” Dante put his lips above yours again, “Not every day a smoking hot, sopping wet, guy busts into my shop.”

     The two of you connected lips again and Dante’s hands gripped the sides of your thighs harshly, his nails digging into you, and dipped your ass lower to meet his growing heat. A small growl came from the back of the red devil’s throat as he ground his hips against you. Your hands grabbed his shoulders as you let out a small moan from the friction of Dante’s grinding. In response, Dante began to roll his hips harshly against you, shoving you against the wall with each thrust. Your hips jolted from the sudden rough movements and you broke from the kiss, letting out a low hissing groan. Dante, however, wasn’t done tasting you and immediately placed his lips back over yours; making sure to devour each one of your sweet noises. 

     He turned around and began to support you using only one hand again. With his free hand, he moved his mother’s photo to the desk drawer, closing it softly, and then swept his arm across his desk, throwing everything else off the top--making an absolute mess of the already cluttered shop. 

     Dante dropped you onto the desk and broke the kiss. Quickly, he removed your shirt and began to bite at whatever he could, making you squirm from the sudden, almost animalistic, aggression. His teeth broke through your skin and Dante excitedly lapped up the crimson lines, letting out a continuous lowly growl. A sharp loud gasp left your mouth as you arched your back towards him in response to him biting your neck; still drawing blood as he did for the other marks. Your fingers dug into him only further encouraging him to do it again.

     However, you weren’t about to let Dante have all the fun. You kneaded your way down his torso and to the edge of his boxers. Coyly, you palmed over his bulge with widening eyes. Of course, it was easy to tell that Dante had a nice dick from how visible it is through his pants but you didn’t expect it to get that much bigger.

     The sultry devil caught onto your sudden surprise and let out a small breathy laugh against your neck, “What’s the matter, babe?” He ran his tongue along one of the bleeding marks, “Surely you knew..?”

     “I,” your mind was blank, “I thought you were a shower, not a grower,” you let out a half-huff half-laugh noise through your nose.

     “Oh, just you wait,” a small seductive laugh came from him as he leaned back up to look you in the eyes, “Still not quite there yet.”

     You rolled your eyes and casually draped your arms over his shoulders, “You know, just cause it’s big doesn’t mean anything if you don’t know how to use it,” you let out a playful low laugh, staring at him with half-lidded eyes. 

     Dante leaned in, “Oh, don’t worry,” he kissed you again, “I know exactly what you like,” smiling happily. 

     The two of you exchanged loud pecking kisses, “Mhm, sure you do.” 

     He stopped and left his lips right above yours, his breath ghosting your kiss-swollen lips, “I can hear things, you know…” 

     Your eye went wide, “Wh-what are you--”

     “Every night, in your room,” he moved to kiss right behind your jaw, whispering against your skin giving you goosebumps, “Begging for me, saying my name,” he ran his tongue along the shell of your ear, “You’re much louder than you think, babe,” Dante gently bit your ear before he leaned back up to meet your gaze. 

     All you could do was stare back. Admittedly, it had crossed your mind a few times over the years that Dante might be able to hear you but you figured that he would’ve said something by now; especially with how long it’s been since you moved in. The idea that Dante had been listening to you for so long made your entire body hot and threw you for a loop.

     Through all your discombobulated noises, you finally managed to sputter out, “Why didn’t you tell..?”

     “Because,” he leaned in, intensifying his eye contact, “I get off listening to you,” he kissed your jawline, “I love hearing you come undone.”

     A shiver ran up your spine as you completely froze. 

     The red devil noticed your change in expression and began to panic, “I didn’t upset you--!”

     You yanked him down to your mouth, kissing him harshly once more. As you did, your hands ran up his shirt and began to grope at his pecs, eliciting a moan from the white-haired devil. Your nails ran down his body leaving loving irritated red skin, making him groan much louder.

     He broke off from the kiss and quickly pulled his shirt up and over his head, tossing it in a random direction in the shop. When he looked back at you, his heart skipped a beat at the face you were making. Although you were obviously already flustered, your face had turned darker by tenfold and your eyes were wide; staring directly at Dante’s bare body.

     “What?” He smiled with a tilt of his head and hips, “Like what you see?”

     You coyly reached out to touch his chest again, Dante watching you intently. Softly, you kneaded against him and whispered, “You’re gorgeous, you know that?”

     Now it was his turn to become red in the face, “H-huh?”

     “I said,” your voice returned to normal volume, “You’re gorgeous, Dante…”

     He stared at you. Although the red devil plays the confident type, his self-esteem was rather poor, and, to be quite frank, he hated how he looked most days; being reminded of his dead brother every time he looked in a mirror. However, hearing you say something so simple and, yet, so impactful made his head spin and his heart wrench.

     You leaned in and placed a string of gentle kisses along his collarbones. As you did, you could hear him purring ever-so-slightly and were able to feel the vibrations through your lips. Eventually, Dante snapped out of his stupor, he slipped his hands into your underwear and found purchase on your ass, groping and kneading against you harshly. Next, you placed kisses up his neck and placed a long kiss against his Adam’s apple, pushing against it slightly; eliciting a groan from Dante. 

     Now back up at his lips, you connected with him once again. The red devil leaned you back onto the barren desk, without breaking the kiss, and pulled your hips tight to his. Once you were fully laid back, Dante moved down your jaw all the way down to your chest with soft kisses. A loud hiss left your mouth as you felt him bite down on one of your nipples, tugging on it slightly--doing his best to make sure he didn’t give you an accidental piercing. 

     “Fuck… Dante,” you ran your hands through his hair and looked down at him, he was already staring back at you; something was different, “Hey,” he released his bite, “You-- You alright?”

     His brow twitched in confusion and he tilted his head, his gaze thinned.

     “Your uh… eyes are--” You pursed your lips, his eyes had become a vibrant burning red-orange

     “Oh- Oh!” Dante laughed softly, “Don’t worry about that,” his voice was quiet, seemingly shy, “I’m just excited, that’s all.”

     You smiled at him and placed a hand on his cheek, thumbing over his flushed skin. He moved back up to you and stared down at you. His eyes are the exact same as when he uses his Devil Trigger except for his pupils, which are heavily dilated. It was a chilling reminder of how dangerous Dante really is, how much stronger than you he is.

     “Are you sure you are alright with me-- with us-- doing this?” His brow was upturned and his voice was filled with a unquenchable lust that made your entire body hot.

     “Of course,” you gave him a long drawn-out kiss and bit his lower lip, slowly pulling on it, “I wouldn't have it any other way,” you felt him shift his hips slightly and whispered against his lips, “I want you, please, Dante.”

     He nodded and took a deep breath, leaning back up. 

     Before he could do anything, you sat up and pushed him away lightly with your fingertips on his chest. A sultry smirk tugged at your lips as you slowly slid down to your knees, placing the occasional kiss along his abdomen. 

     Dante’s breath hitched upon realizing what you were doing, “You don’t have to- ah~” He let out a small groan at the feeling of your lips against his still-clothed cock. 

     You looked up at him and placed a few more kisses down his trapped shaft, feeling him twitch against you. With almost painfully slow movements you kissed back up his shaft then slid your fingers behind the band of his boxers, pulling them down. His cock sprung up proudly, already dribbling pre-cum. 

     With a small smirk, you looked up at him and ran your tongue up the underside of his dick, making sure to lap up the small bits of milky fluid. His eyes broke from yours and were staring upwards.

     “Dante,” you stopped, making him look back down at you, “Look at me, please,” you leaned back in closer to his body, whispering against his sensitive flesh, “I want to see if you are enjoying what I am doing or not”

     He swallowed hard and let out a shaky breath, “I don’t know how long I… If I watch you.”

     You smiled and let out a sultry laugh, placing a kiss on the underside of his tip, “That’s fine, as long as I get to watch you cum.”

     The red devil’s face was bright red, not only from your words but from, watching you give his slit small kitten licks. You made your way down his shaft with slow kisses again, reveling in how much he was squirming from your touch. Once down to his base, you moved to the side--between his cock and the meat of his thigh--and bit down on him, leaving a loving dark mark. All the while Dante was groaning quietly as he bit his lower lip, attempting to stifle his vulnerable noises. In fact, he was biting down so hard that blood had begun to trickle down his chin.

     After you felt the mark was dark enough, you placed several kisses on his balls and curled your tongue around his shaft, moving from the very base all the way back up. Slowly, you placed your lips around his cockhead and made sure to watch as Dante released his lower lip, unable to contain himself any longer. Bit by bit you took his length into your mouth, to the best of your ability; it’s not every day you suck an eight-inch cock after all. 

     Unhurriedly you bobbed your head up and down, making sure to savor his taste and the lewd mewls that he was making. You used one hand to play with his balls, making him buck his hips at the unexpected touch. Cautiously, he placed a hand on the back of your head, his fingers just barely ghosting against you. Noticing his hesitation, you used your free hand to push his palm harder against you. As you worked yourself into a rhythm, you noticed that he was moving his hips gently into you, making you take him in ever-so-slightly deeper with each intake. 

     You placed your free hand on your own dick and began to stroke yourself at the sight of Dante towering above you. He was breathing heavily with half-lidded eyes and was moaning sweet praises; such as “Holy shit” or “Goddamnit”. 

     After a while, you moved back to kiss down his shaft and his balls. Carefully, you licked his sack and took one of his balls into your mouth very gently sucking on it.

     Dante put his hands against the wall, pushing up, and arched his back as he let out a loud unfiltered moan, "Fuckin~~! God~" His fingers clawed through the wallpaper, all he wanted was to grab you and fuck into the back of your throat, but he needed to be careful and have patience; the last thing he wants is to hurt you.

     As you released his ball, you lightly ran your teeth against the skin, making him let out another loud moan. You flattened your tongue and ran it up between his balls, making sure to go slowly between them, all the way back to his tip only to generously give his slit more kitten licks. 

     Once again, you returned to bobbing up and down on his cock, moving a bit faster this time. One of your hands began to fondle his balls again whilst the other wrapped around to hold the back side of his thighs; encouraging him to thrust harder into your face. The red devil caught on quickly to the idea and placed both his hands on the back of your head and began to thrust his hips into you. 

     Admittedly, it was perhaps a bad idea to encourage him to face-fuck you since he managed to make you deep-throat him; something you weren’t able to do. Tears sprung to the corners of your eyes at the feeling. All you could do was wrap both your arms around his thighs and hold on for dear life, hoping he didn’t get any rougher. 

     Thankfully, it didn’t take Dante long to reach his peak. Your eyes met with his and he let out a thunderous whining moan as his fingers dug into the back of your head, pushing his cock as far into your mouth as he could. As expected, his cum didn’t taste the greatest--caused by his diet or lack-there-of, it was very salty and rather bitter. On top of that, he was choking you and pushing rather hard into the back of your throat but that didn’t matter much; you got what you’ve been lusting after for so long. 

     The look on his face alone made it worth the probable sore throat in the morning. He was disheveled with his hair falling in front of his face, some of which was stuck to the thin layer of sweat on his brow. His eyes were heavy and even more dilated than before. A dark red stain adorned his lower lip from his own smeared blood. Heavy labored breaths left his ajar lips, giving you a good look at his sharp teeth. You could tell that he wanted you, that he wasn’t done with you yet; which is exactly what you’d hoped for. 

     You felt him pet the back of your head as you removed his cock from your mouth. With heavy eyes of your own, you looked up at him with your mouth hung open slightly and breathing heavily. He noticed the tears that had finally run down your face and thumbed them off your cheeks, cupping your face in his hands. 

     Without breaking eye contact, you leaned against one of his hands and took his thumb into your mouth, biting it softly. 

     Dante’s voice was soft, “Can we do more?”

     With a smirk, you let go of his finger and stood up, placing a hand on his chest, “You sure you’re up for it?”

     The red devil picked you up, placing his head between your neck and shoulder, whispering in a low dark tone, “My room or yours?”

     A shiver ran up your spine, “E-either one’s fine-!”

     Dante bit down softly over one of the marks he made earlier in an attempt to satiate some of his growing desires, internally he felt himself becoming increasingly impatient. After a minute of thought, he went upstairs with you still in his arms and kissing your marred skin. Dante decided to use his room; after all, he knows where his lube is--plus he doesn’t have to worry about ruining your bedding, bed, or room in the heat of the moment. 

     He supported you with one arm as he futzed with the doorknob. You grabbed his face and moved it to yours, kissing him once again. Dante’s kisses were much less innocent and sweet this time; this time, they were overtly lustful and sinful. He wanted to indulge both himself and you in these unholy urges, to make you feel as good as he does; which, come hell or high water, is exactly what he’s going to do. 

     Finally, he got the door open and pushed it open using your back. Your hands made their way up to his hair, grabbing handfuls of it as he placed both his hands on your ass, pulling you as tight to him as he could. The only light in the room was provided by the sunset that was peaking through the blinds on his window; which poured directly onto the bed. He brought you both to the foot of his bed and laid you down, moving his kisses down your neck and to your shoulder. 

     When Dante leaned up the sight before him is one that will be immortalized in his jumbled mind. You were a hazy mess and were sprawled out on the untidy sheets. The sunlight gave your body a golden glow and only emphasized how beautiful you are to him. You looked heavenly, angelic almost. A small amount of pity sat at the edge of Dante’s mind, pity at how he is going to stain your pure and holy nature; how this devil is going to destroy you.

     He grabbed one of your hands and kissed the back of it, placing genteel warm kisses up your arm and stopping on your shoulder. His breath was hot and tickled your ear as he whispered to you, “I love you,” he placed a long kiss on the side of your neck, “So damned much…”

     Before you could speak, he placed a soft peck on your lips and stood up, moving over to his bedside table. You scooched up further onto the bed and Dante climbed onto it, a bottle of lube now in hand, sitting on his knees. To say he looked stunning was an understatement. You weren’t sure if he looked heavenly or if he looked demonic; perhaps he is both a devil and an angel wrapped up in a half-human shell. The sunlight made him appear god-like; between the sheer definition of his frame and the orange eyes that were trained on you, he looked surreal. Said eyes were flicking all over your body, absorbing every bit of you that he could, but he was hesitant; what if he messes things up?

     After a few minutes, you sat up and placed a hand on his bicep, “Hey, you okay? We can stop if you don’t want to do more, Dante.”

     He shook his head, “No, I want this, I want you. I just--” his gaze broke from yours and mumbled, just barely audible, “I’m nervous.”

     You gave him a gentle smile, thumbing over his arm, “You’re doing great, Dante,” you leaned the top of your head against his chest, closing your eyes, “Besides, that’s supposed to be my line.”

     He let out a warm laugh and placed his hands on your back, kneading against you. 

     After a moment, Dante leaned you back down and slid his hands into your underwear. He pulled your last bit of clothing off and tossed it somewhere within the messy room, then he took his own off; leaving you both completely exposed. The red devil then paused in thought for a moment before carefully turning you over onto your stomach.

     You peered over your shoulder at Dante. He was staring at your bare form, biting his lip. A small groan left your mouth as you felt him place his warm hands on your ass, kneading. After a moment, you heard him shuffle around and then he sat for a moment. A sharp gasp came from you as you felt him smack your ass then aggressively grabbed the slowly redding side. Dante’s lip twitched into a smirk as he did it again, hearing you let out another moan. 

     He put both hands back down and groped at your ass, listening to your whimpering beneath him. Admittedly, he wanted to continue teasing you but he was losing grip on his own emotions; fighting back an urge to Trigger. So, he let go of your tender flesh and grabbed the bottle of lube. Instinctively, you put your ass up a bit; laying in a downward dog position. Dante split apart your cheeks and applied a generous amount of lube before slowly running his finger around your hole. 

     A small buck of your hips back told Dante you wanted him to hurry up so he slid one finger inside you. You buried your face into the bedding in hopes to suppress your voice but were quickly pulled back up by Dante’s hand carefully around your throat. 

     Through a strained growl, Dante confidently huffed, “I want to hear everything, and,” he leaned down, slowly adding a second finger, and whispered in your ear, “I don’t want you to fake anything.” He kissed the back of your neck, “I want your real reactions, ‘kay?”

     Quickly you nodded, laying your head to the side and letting out a quiet groan as you felt his fingers fuck into you faster. Dante curled his fingers towards himself and felt you jolt forwards as you let out a guttural groan. So, he repeated the action and, when you repeated the same response, he continued to do it faster and faster. 

     Dante added more lube and slid in a third digit and saw that your brow furrowed a bit, grimacing slightly; however, you didn’t tell him to stop so he pushed it in further. As he played with your hole, he noticed you had begun to practically ride his hand. Mindlessly he opened his mouth and began to play with his teeth using his tongue, he found himself distantly regretting waiting so long and wished he had been able to gratify these taboo feelings sooner. 

     “Dante,” you stared at him from the corner of your eyes, “I want you,” you felt his fingers quicken, making you moan, “Please, Dante.”

     The red devil shifted his jaw in thought, still playing with your ass. He wanted to watch you squirm underneath him longer but he couldn’t deny that he was also growing increasingly desperate. With a small sigh, he removed his fingers and gently coaxed you to turn over; laying belly up. 

     Slowly, he ran a hand down your middle and gently thumbed over your aching cock, and the pre-cum that decorated the tip. You whimpered from the unexpected feeling of your long-neglected arousal. Dante leaned back to sit his butt on his heels and, using some lube, stroked himself to the sight before him. 

     Once fully slicked up, Dante aligned himself with your hole. A devilish smirk tugged at his lips as he teased you, running his tip along your hole; he wanted to hear you beg as he had heard in secret for so many years. 

     “Please Dante,” you pursed your lips and rolled your hips, “Please, I can’t-- Please~!”

     With a low growl, he pushed his tip inside and you let out a sharp gasp at the feeling. 

     Bit by bit Dante entered your body. You were doing your best not to tighten your body around the unfamiliar feeling. Admittedly, it made your whole body tingle in delight; never had you had such a large partner--living or plastic--making this quite a new and thrilling experience. It took nearly a minute for Dante to finally be fully inside and both of you were already on edge. You reached up for Dante’s head, pulling him down for a kiss. Your legs rested on the outsides of his hips, allowing him to bend down fully to kiss you. The kisses were slow, loud, sloppy kisses; both of you were a mess.

     Dante sat back up, holding you around your thighs, and ever-so-slightly pulled back then pushed back inside. He continued these small careful movements for some time. 

     “More, please, Dante,” you spoke between heavy breaths, “I don’t want you to hold back,” you flashed him a warm sultry smile, “Do whatever you want with me, Daddy~” You added a playful wink to the end and laughed as his eyes went wide with embarrassment.

     Your laughter quickly died down when you felt him quickly pull out over half his length and jab it right back in eliciting you to let out a loud unfiltered moan, “Do whatever I want, huh?” He gave you a dark full-teeth smile, you felt your stomach drop in a fearful arousal type of way.

     Dante pulled out almost the whole way and, once again, slammed right back inside. You let out another sharp moan and arched your back at the feeling. The red devil repeated this action until all you could hear in the shop was his balls hitting your ass and you spouting out random jibberish; singing the devil’s praises. 

     You went to jack yourself off but were stopped by Dante’s hand grabbing your wrist. Without slowing down, Dante leaned down and looked you dead in the eye, “You only get to cum when I say you can, babe.”

     “What~Ah~!” 

     Dante yanked you up to sit on his lap, making hard deep hard jackrabbit thrusts right into your prostate. As he did that, he also had begun to bite over your skin again and his hands hand found their way to your ass; groping it hard. You wrapped your arms around him and held on to him, leaving deep scratches on his upper back. His lips met with yours again for more sloppy wet kisses, his hands slowly traveled to underneath your thighs. 

     In one swift motion, he had both of you up off the bed and you pushed against his wall. His thrusts had slowed to a moderate pace but were still short, only pulling out two or three inches. You decided to give him a taste of his own medicine and bit down on his shoulder. Dante let out a loud sharp unfiltered moan and his fingers dug into your skin, clawing into your thighs. 

     Once you felt the mark was deep enough, you placed a few more; making sure to mar up each side, and with each bite, you got another frantic moan. You leaned back to admire your work and felt him start making longer, more drawn-out movements, purposefully teasing. 

     Now resting his head against the side of your neck, he placed a few kisses, “I don’t remember saying you could bite me, babe.”

     “Whatcha gonna do about it, hm?” 

     Dante pulled out of you and the next thing you knew you were being pushed face down into the floor, his hand grasping the back of your head tightly. He re-inserted himself inside you and began to fuck you even harder than before; pulling out to the very tip and slamming into you. Using his other hand, he took one of your arms and held it behind you, pinning it to your back. Your free hand was stretched in front of you and you were gripping the floor with your fingertips, desperately trying to ground yourself. 

     Admittedly, you were on cloud nine as you felt him continuously re-penetrate your hole. Your legs felt weak and you began to, unknowingly, drop your hips down; which caught Dante’s attention. The red devil pulled himself back out and took you to the bed, laying you face up. He remained on his feet and re-inserted himself, then yanked your legs up and over his shoulders. All you could do was grip the bedding tightly and continue to babble random moaning phrases to him, egging him on further. 

     This pose didn’t last long, Dante removed your legs and leaned down to you. He gave you a long impassioned kiss before resting his forehead against your chest. One of his hands grabbed yours, intertwining your fingers, and the other found purchase on your cock. With each jab inwards, he jerked your dick in rhythm with his hips. Your free hand gripped his hair, holding him into your chest. 

     Dante’s voice was ragged and low, almost desperate sounding, “I don’t know how much longer I…”

     “Cum inside me, Dante,” you didn’t even need to hear the rest, you knew that he wanted to know what to do. 

     He moved his head to rest between your neck and shoulder then picked up his pace tenfold, in both his hips and his hand. Your body arched tightly against his and your fingers clasped even tighter around his hand and his hair. It only took a few more short sharp jabs for him to reach his climax, spilling himself deep inside you. Dante’s teeth sunk deep into your skin, breaking it once again, and creating a vice grip on you. 

     The hot feeling from his cum quickly spread throughout your body as his pace around your cock sped up, the combination of the two soon brought you to your own peak, “Fuck, Dante~!” Your voice was loud and semi-whiney and you pushed your head against his. 

     A gentle purr could be heard from him at the sound of your orgasm, despite him still having his teeth sunk into you. You gently ran your fingers through his hair and felt as if you were going to cry. The two of you laid connected for a few minutes, just enjoying the feeling of being so close.

     Dante carefully removed his bite, making you let out a hiss in pain, and released your hand from his. He leaned up and gently removed his cock from your body, making a shiver run up your spine. With a happy content huff, he relaxed back down on you and propped himself up by resting his forearms on your chest. A warm smile and half-lidded eyes adorned his face as he placed a soft innocent kiss on your cheek and then rested his chest on his arms, staring at you.

     Your hands slowly ran up his biceps and rested on his shoulders, mimicking his smile with one of your own. As you thumbed over his skin, you couldn’t help but think about how much you truly cared about Dante. Wandering thoughts devolved to the memories of coming home to a near-dead Dante laying on the bathroom floor; which only further darkened to the idea that it could always happen and, someday, you might not make it home in time to--

     “Hey,” Dante’s soft voice pulled you from your thoughts. His smile was gone and his brow was creased, “What’s wrong?”

     A tremble found its way to your lips as you stared at him and you realized that you had several tears running down your face. Unable to spit out what you were thinking, you spoke with a small crack in your voice, “Can you come closer?”

     He gave you a small sweet smile with a happy huff, “Here.”

     Dante stood up, picked you up, and placed you on the bed--laying you the correct way. The red devil then slid onto the bed next to you, placing his head on your chest. He laid with his body half on top of you and wrapped his arms around your middle, allowing you to do the same. Although you typically would’ve immediately gone to wash up after such a strenuous event, you couldn’t bring yourself to let go of him. A loud robust purring filled the room as both of you relished in the feeling of holding one another.

     You placed a soft long kiss against the top of his head, lingering against him for some time before whispering sweetly against his disheveled hair, “I love you, Dante; you know that, right?”

     The red devil turned his head to look at you better and placed a soft kiss against your lips, “I love you too babe,” he placed his head back on your chest, nuzzling into your hard, his arms wrapping tighter around you, “So damned much.”

==

ENDING NOTES: ;skfajfjlkdsjafkldj this wasn’t supposed to be this long--it’s 22 pages in docs; how the fuck-- This was supposed to be a short Dante smut fic, what happened lmaooo 🍊🍊🍊 Quick thing: If you are curious as to why I think a younger Dante would have issues with how he looks; it is because it reminds him of Vergil (Vergil has the same issue when his hair is down, thinking he looks like his brother--I mean, they are twins after all).  🍊🍊🍊 You know, I have written quite a bit of smut, right? So you’d think that I would stop laughing and getting embarrassed over writing words like “nipple” or “balls” but no, I fucking still giggle to myself like a fucking idiot when I write those words like… wtf is wrong with me smh Like I sit here typing one letter at a time all flustered when writing those two words specifically even though I just wrote about Dante fingerings the reader or like the reader linking Dante’s pre-cum like wtf is wrong with me lmaooo

==

Want to see more like this? Want to read my work quicker and several stories that are not on Tumblr? Check this out on my AO3 (Linked here)

now you're wearing your own helmet, his jacket, and riding on the back of his bike with your arms tightly bound around his waist.

protective ! biker bf . . . who spoils you rotten. he wants to treat you to the most lavish of experiences and he'll deliver them to you with you on the back of his bike or take you to those places with you riding on the back of said bike.

the revving of a familiar, loud engine makes you roll out of bed with a pissed off look on your face. you tug the curtains open, looking at your boyfriend at the end of your lawn with your arms crossed over your chest. since he's not that far, you can see how cheesily wide his grin is.

you open the window, knowing that he'll start throwing pebbles at it if you don't, and lean out into the open night air.

"you trying to wake the whole place, luci?" the usage of the nickname shows to him that you're not actually mad at him.

"no, just you, my love," he says, sauntering across the lawn with his hands behind his back, "wanted to give you a late night gift,"

he reveals a huge bouquet of roses that were hiding behind his back.

"luci," your tone is unique; showing that you're flattered and embarassed in the lavish, sweet gift, but also scolding in some sense because of how late it was for him to be doing this.

"[nameee]," he says, in the same candence. he walks over, putting the stems into his mouth and biting down as he works on climbing up to your window. and when he's finally arrived to your heigth, he's handing you the roses with a grin, "for my boy,"

"you're such a romantic," you tease, not finding the will to be mad at him anymore. not when he looks so perfect with his messy hair and smirking face. "c'mere," you say, leaning forward with your hand already on his cheek.

he welcomes the affection with ease, pressing into you and grabbing you by the waist to keep you stationed right where he wants you. it takes smacking his chest to make him let you go, revealing his smirking, proud face on display for you to glare at.

"thank you, baby, they're really pretty," you say, pecking him once more before turning away to set them on the table.

"i got the best out of the bunch for you, pretty boy," he says, kicking off of the window sill and shedding off his jacket and boots. soon, he's collapsing onto your bed and waiting for you to join him, "think i get some cuddles for this grand gesture now."

"oh, do you, really?" you tease, yelping when he suddenly pulls you down to lay with him, laughing as his fingers tickle your sides.

"some cuddles and some more?" he says with a wink, making you roll your eyes.

"shut up."

protective ! biker bf . . . who makes it very obvious you're taken. he's got you two matching jewelry, you're his lockscreen and homescreen, he's your lockscreen (he let you have your homescreen be whatever you wanted it to be...the lockscreen is what mattesr most anyway because that's the one that everyone sees), he's got a bracelet on his wrist with your name spelt out in childish beads, he's got a necklace with a heart locket that has a picture of you two, he has your name tattooed- just kidding, he doesn't...but keep an eye on him because he's been genuinely thinking of getting one.

"baby, you're not wearing it," your supposedly tough boyfriend whines as you're both about to leave, "wear it!" he childishly whines again.

he's talking about his letterman jacket that he got custom made with his last name on the back and the emblem of his biker gang on the back.

it's not a serious group - in the sense they go around causing purposeful trouble, but still he wanted to have some sort of physical proof to show that it was a sentimental thing for him. he never let anyone else wear it, but you and him too.

"i have my own jacket..."

you just killed him. he's writhing on the floor in immense pain as he clutches his chest and cries out for mercy. his dramatic tantrum won't be held over until that jacket is around your shoulders, so you better just put it on to make him shut up.

-

his lockscreen is a photo of you hugging him from behind while he has his helmet on. your kissing the top of the hard shell, a smile on your lips and a masked one on his. it's a selfie, so you're looking right at the camera with a crinkle in your eyes from your wide smile.

his homescreen is a photo of you and him resting in bed. he doesn't have his shirt on so your head is just resting on his bare chest. and you're sleepy, completely unaware of the photo he's taking of you. he's sleepily grinning ear to ear as he looks down at you though, so enamored by how cute you are. if you squint, you can see the initials of your name inked into his collarbone - which is only a couple inches away from where your head is resting.

protective ! biker bf . . . who uses his easily intimidating stance to scare off anyone that comes up to you two. in any situation, he's standing very close by and very ready to bite at anyone that gets too close (metaphorically, of course...).

the tent restaurant you were sitting in had to be one of your favorites. they served the best food, were run by a cute old lady, and had a good crowd surrounding you two. his leather jacket was thrown over your shoulders to keep you warm, since air did keep coming into the place, and he was sat right across from you.

the plastic table had all types of food scattered everywhere and his eyes practically had stars in them.

"which one do you want, babe?" he said, already getting ready to give you a big portion of the food that you both ordered.

you told him which one with a grateful smile, kissing his hand quickly as he was reaching out for some of the delicious food to plate for you. he blushed profusely, cursing you for being so "adorable" and flustering him so much for no reason.

"i just have the best boy-"

"sorry, excuse me, but you dropped your napkin," a stranger passing by said, bending over and picking up the cloth that had fallen from your lap and onto the ground.

you took it from the man's hold, ignoring the way your fingers brushed against his, and politely thanked him.

"thank-"

"here, don't use that one now since it's dirty, babe," lucian says quickly, grabbing it from your hand before you can return it to its previous position. instead, he hands you his and gently smiles, "use mine,"

"what? no, you don't have to," you scold, looking at him with a warning look. you would be fine with your own napkin anyway, plus you didn't want him to eat without one.

the stranger looked at the exchange with a sheepish smile, then directed his next words to you, "if you would like, i could get you another one from a staff member?"

"that would be gr-"

"we don't need your help, man, just scram already," lucian sighs, rubbing his forehead with the back of his hand. as if he was incredibly stressed with the newcomer.

you kicked him under the table, which he winced and pouted at.

"uhm, don't mind him. and it's alright, i can flag down a waitress so you don't have to worry about it." you said with a kind smile, hoping the guy would take the hint and leave. you knew why lucian was acting up and you would rather not colorfully scold him in front of a stranger.

"if you insist," he kindly returns the smile before taking his leave, scattering away when he notices your boyfriend glaring at him through his hand that was covering his face.

immediately, you reach over and pinch lucian's cheek and tug hard, "are you serious? you fucking man-baby,"

"i'm sorrryyy," he drawls out, the tone of his voice shaking as you tug and wiggle his cheek in contempt.

-