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nsfw. dante x f!reader. established relationship, mentions of jealousy (dante toward reader), prone bone, vaginal fingering, unprotected sex, orgasms..multiple. | wc: 1.9k.

“I swear to God you owe me an orgasm for every time you pissed me off tonight, Dante.”

“And just how many times was that, sweet thing?”

Doing what he does best, the man to whom you’ve sworn your heart crowds the little doorway of the bathroom. His shoulders are broader than the door even while he’s leaning against its frame, one arm dangling at his side and the other pressed against the wooden frame to cage you beneath him.

You glare up at him – cold as ice.

”Do not do that right now,” you begin only to be brought to a stop by the unwavering stance of your beloved.

Still as a statue, Dante remains in the doorway, blocking your exit with his hand wrapped around the frame.

“Answer the question.”

Unable to hide your apparent annoyance any longer, a humorless laugh escapes and you look away wide eyed.

“I stopped counting after six.”

You turn to face him again, mouth half open and eyes narrowed. There is no possible way he isn’t aware of how poorly he acted. Unfortunately, you also know him well enough to know that’s exactly why he brought it back up.

He’s working toward an apology and you aren’t quite sure if you even want it yet.

Grabbing a clip off of the shelf closest to the bathroom sink, you tie your hair away from your face and attempt to push past him.

“You can have the bed tonight. I'll sleep on the couch.”

Stopping you in your tracks with a gentle grasp on each of your arms, Dante frowns.

“You can sleep in the bed and I’ll sleep in it next to you, how about that?”

Attempting to shake him off, you point a finger toward his chest. “You need to learn how to handle your jealousy productively.”

Scoffing, his jaw slackens.

“Have you seriously convinced yourself that I’m jealous of any of those people?”

Shaking your head, you raise your eyebrows defiantly. “If you're going to continue to be an ass Dante, go home.”

“Well here I am,” he snarks back, holding his arms out widely.

“Oh you think you’re so damn cl–”

Stopped when his lips press against yours, the entirety of your body is wrapped up in his before you can realize what’s happening. Large arms hold you against his chest, big, calloused palms cupping the soft cheeks of one remarkably angry woman – remarkable only because it’s so unlike you to be angry.

Pausing the kiss, Dante mumbles against your mouth while attempting to nip at your lower lip just how you like.

“Let me make it up to you.”

Frustration rises in the back of your throat, still itching to argue with him about how he acted earlier in the evening. An argument forms on your tongue, lips parting to let it free. Almost as if he senses it, Dante kisses you again, hands sliding from your face to your sides and settling on your ribs, thumbs dancing just below your covered breasts.

So familiar with the space that is technically yours even if he spends so much time in it, he holds you against him while he guides both of your bodies away from the bathroom and toward the living room. As soon as the backs of his legs hit the couch, he slumps down atop it and pulls you into his lap, never breaking the intense kiss. Your tongue slick against one another, soft moans spilling out and stopping against the other’s lips.

No words need to be exchanged right now. The two of you are so familiar with the other’s body that he could undress you with his eyes closed and still get it right the first time, fabric sliding over your head and being tossed to the floor behind you. You rock softly in his lap, the muscle of his thigh taut and flexed to give you something to rut against. His greedy lips trail away from yours and down your chin and throat and neck, a trail of fire from your mouth to your core left behind.

“Dante,” you whine, uncertain of what, exactly, you want.

A less aroused part of you wants to remind him that he was a real asshole for no reason tonight but her voice gets quieter and quieter in the back of your head with each drag of your hips and the friction it brings. Wordlessly, he caresses your torso with his fingers, dipping them beneath the waistband of your panties. The grinding motion has dragged your slick from your needy hole to your clit, the essence of you covering his finger when he runs it through your slit.

Even that pesky aroused part of you won’t give in quite so easily.

Any other time by this point, you’d be nearly coming undone. Sometimes the simple act of being so outspokenly adored and wanted by him is enough to nearly drive you to the edge of euphoria, eyes rolling back in your head so all it takes is a few well placed touches to drench his fingers in your release.

Tonight, though, you aren’t ready to give him that satisfaction. His fingers begin toying with your clit, sliding between your pussy and panties, giving you direct contact to his skin. The grip you have over your mind right now is ironclad, refusing to give into the temptation to let go now that he’s got you.

You do not stifle your moans, rather tipping your head toward the ceiling and stopping fewer of them as the tip of his finger slides inside of you. He gasps, clearly overcome with his own fight to stay in his right mind.

“Can feel how close you are already,” he marvels quietly, sinking his finger in until his second knuckle is enveloped in your warmth. “Gonna make a mess for me, gorgeous?”

Looking down at him, you shake your head.

He raises his brows, surprised. “No?” He asks, pulling his finger completely out of you in one fell swoop.

You gasp, muscles clenching futilely now that you’ve been left empty. This weakens your resolve to make him wait the slightest bit, bottom lip twitching in irritation until you feel your hole stretch again, this time around two of his fingers instead of one.

“There we go, I know that’ll do it.”

Sinking both fingers to the second knuckle, you writhe while his wrist flexes and his fingers move, hips naturally matching his rhythm. The pressure is intense, building behind your stomach and slowly becoming more intense with every thoughtful move he makes. Your body refuses to tense and relax; to drench his fingers and hand in you.

Dante knows this game well and he ratchets the pressure higher, fingers methodically pressing against the spot he knows gets the reaction he’s craving so badly. He feels you twitch in response, thighs spasming, stopping just short of finishing.

Without warning, he withdraws his fingers completely. You protest, yelping more when he slides out from underneath you and situates you onto your belly beneath him, sliding a pillow beneath your hips to prop them upward. Your ass is fully exposed to him, wet pussy facing the cool, open air. Naturally, you move to arch your back and wag your hips in the air but you’re stopped by a hand keeping you pressed against the couch.

He must really be sorry if he’s going straight to being as close as possible.

Draping his body over yours, Dante’s chest keeps you pinned on your stomach. Your pussy

welcomes him with open arms when his tip slides into its eager, waiting warmth. Slowly, he drags his hips in and out of you to set a pace, gradually picking it back up. His breaths are stuttered, chest heaving against your back.

“I’m, fuck…you feel so good.”

He speaks through gritted teeth, thumb sliding over your throat while his palm supports it. The back of your head is pressed against his chest, your body being jerked with each strong thrust of his hips. Every bit of you is beneath him, curled and bent and at his mercy, his head just above your ear.

"I'm s-sorry for being an ass tonight.”

And he was, wasn’t he? All surly sighs and displeased, sarcastic smirks while you assured him several times he could leave whenever worked best for him. He was the one who decided to tag along, after all, to a boring old network dinner filled with hungry eyed men unworthy of being in your presence.

Dante isn’t so convinced he’s earned the honor either so he begs for forgiveness, hoping this won’t be the one time you’re stingy with it. He continues to apologize using his lips and his cock, tongue brushing against the shell of your ear.

“You didn’t deserve it tonight and you don’t deserve it ever again.”

Your cunt twitches around his shaft, body finally overwhelmed and overriding the control you’ve had over it since he first kissed you.

Time has fallen away completely, all that remains now is him and you. The sound of the cars passing by outside the window and the slick of your lips touching and his moans of pleasure and your name when he follows right after you, sinking himself as deeply as possible to fill you to the brim fills the room.

No complaining neighbors yet but the night is young.

Panting softly, your eyes flutter open to give you a glimpse of the man you love face to face.

“Really made me work for that one, huh?”

Dante chuckles, gently and expertly maneuvering your exhausted body so that you are on your back with your legs spread and pushed up toward your chest. He fills the empty space between them with his broad body, hands falling to your hips and thumbs digging in.

“We have five more to go, sweetheart. I was a bad, bad boy tonight, remember?”

You groan, exhausted. Too tired to argue and way too tired to fight back, the note of displeasure quickly turns into a symphony of pitchy moans when he buries one of his fingers inside of your warm pussy, pushing the thick release oozing out of your hole back into you.

“I have a feeling these ones will be much easier,” he goads, curling his finger to brush it against every spot that makes your hips jerk. “You’re already so wet and warm and…” He trails off, exhaling sharply through his nose.

Your body responds by clenching around his finger, holding it in place while a second, sharp orgasm washes through every fiber of your being, your body holding his finger inside and refusing to let it go until the pleasure has subsided.

“Oh, I didn’t think it’d be that easy.”

Once again hard – crown of him blushing and hot and replacing his finger to be swiped through your sticky, sodden folds – Dante leans down to plant his hand on the other side of your head, his girth slowly slipping back inside of you.

“Four more for my girl.” His voice is low and raspy in your ear, his hair tickling your face. “Are you ready?”

Nodding, you smile up at him, locking your ankles around his hips and throwing your arms around his neck. The once righteous anger you were filled with has subsided into a pleasant afterglow, leaving you strangely warmed by the knowledge that you are so adored he’s willing to act out when he feels what belongs to him is being threatened.

A better woman wouldn’t be so turned on by this.

But it is you, so another round of wetness seeps from between your legs, adding to the syrupy slick mess that has already been made. Dante smirks, sinking himself to the hilt and biting his lower lip in a sight so sinful you almost wonder if you shouldn’t have raised the number of times he made you mad to eight.

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