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A/N: I don't really care if people hate the Netflix anime, I love it. I want a season 2 right now.
the type of guy who would buy you a cowboy hat when you say you want to ride his cock
you don't have to wear the hat when you're riding him but he thinks it adds to the fun
a very touchy guy, he can never keep his hands to himself
Dante refuses to keep his hands away from your clit when you're having sex, it is a magical pleasure button after all, so even if you're doing most of the moving he still wants to give himself something to do
slaps your ass a lot, more often with just one hand but sometimes with both and always grabs you where he slapped, especially when he knows you're still sensitive
if you get tired he will lift your legs up, his arms below your knees and fingers interlocked with yours, before he starts hammering his cock into your sensitive wet hole
very chatty and will always tell you how much he's enjoying himself, or how hypnotized he is by the view of your pussy swallowing his hard cock, your pussy making his white pubic hair wet with it's slick, the slapping, lewd noise that your pussy makes when you lower yourself on him over and over
grins up at you and gives you a thumbs up when you make him come while riding him
when he wants you to ride him he will sit on the bed, pat his thighs and tell you to get on, and yes, he will absolutely also say yee-haw
has condoms in lots of different colors to make things more fun when he has to watch his cock go in and out of you
one interesting thing that he likes is to fuck you from behind but then he will stop, leave just the tip of his cock inside of you, feeling your pussy tighten, trying to pull him back in but he won't move
instead he tells you to ride his cock from this position
as much as he loves getting ridden he is still Dante at the end of the way, so of course he will find a way to be a cocky bastard about it
not like you didn't know that before you started dating, now your sex life is that much more fun, for having Dante there
(dante sparda x reader | can be set in DMC'S game universe or anime! inspired by re4.)
đ â§âË â
When Dante was hired to rescue the daughter of a powerful, fortune-telling family, he expected someone pristine. Proper. Maybe soft-spoken, mysterious, and grateful to be saved.
Not... this.
He had slayed demonsâmultiple demons, mind you, just to reach the creepy, crumbling church where you were kept. Solved a ridiculously hard puzzle, nearly got impaled by a swinging axe trap, and had to put up with the scent of brimstone and rotting pews the whole way.
And this is how you greeted him?
With a candlestick. To the chest.
Dante staggered slightly, looking down at the now-bent bronze stick protruding from his jacket. His eyes flicked up to the girl standing in front of him, panting, your expression twisted in panic. Her eyes were wide. He could practically hear your heart racing.
âNot the hello I was expecting,â he muttered, yanking the candlestick out of his chest and tossing it aside with a clatter. The wound was already closing.
Honestly, you were kind of a sight, even if your first impression was... intense. He glanced between you and the photo your had given him. Same eyes. Same pouty lips.
Definitely her.
âWho... the hell are you?!â you snapped, stumbling back and dropping to the floor, scurrying away like a terrified cat.
He placed a hand on his hip, unimpressed.
âIâm Dante. Iâm here to save you.â
âNo, youâre not! Youâre-you're one of those things! Youâre here to finish the job!â
Dante sighed. âYour father hired me to save you, princess. You can chill.â
But you werenât having it. You grabbed a piece of broken wood like a sword and aimed it at him, still shaking.
âThatâs it.â
Before you could react, he darted forward with lightning speed, hoisted you up like you weighed nothing, and threw you over his shoulder.
âPut me down! I swear to God - let go of me! This is kidnapping! You animal!â
âYeah, yeah. Screaming wonât help your case.â
You flailed and kicked and pounded your fists against his back.
âIâm going to curse you! Iâm going to curse your entire bloodline!â
âAw, thatâs cute,â he said with a smirk. âYou think I havenât already been cursed.â
And with that, Dante walked out of the church, the echo of your outraged shrieking following behind him as he carried you straight into your unwanted rescue.
He already knew this mission was going to be a pain.
But hell if it wasnât going to be entertaining.
đ â§âË â
Okay... maybe you werenâtthat bad.
After he explained the situation to youâalbeit while covering your mouth mid-screamâyou started to calm down. A little. And after he saved you from, oh, multiple demon attacks, you finally stopped stabbing him with random objects.
Now, you followed his lead like a wary cat, tiptoeing behind him through the ruins of a quiet village. At first glance, it looked abandoned. Peaceful. But you knew better. Dante had warned you, some of the villagers werenât villagers at all.
Demons. Disguised. Watching.
You stuck close, barely breathing.
Suddenly, Dante stopped and motioned toward a metal trash can.
You blinked. Confused. âWhat?â
He kept his voice low. âHide.â
You looked from him⌠to the trash can⌠then back again.
âSeriously?â you hissed.
He turned to face you, clearly baffled. âYes. Seriously. No choice, princess.â
You groaned and dragged your feet toward the bin like it was your destiny.
âThis is so disgusting,â you muttered under your breath. âEw. Ew. Ew.â
Dante smirked as he heard the faint, pitiful complaints from within. Then, without missing a beat, he drew Ebony and Ivory from his holsters.
âItâs showtime, baby.â
Gunfire erupted just as you hunkered down. Inside the trash can, you flinched at every bang, every crack, every roaring screech from the demon horde. Then you heard it:
âWOOHOO!â
You couldnât help it,you laughed. A wacky wohoo pizza man saving your life? Not exactly what your cards had predicted. But fate clearly had a wild sense of humor.
The noise outside started to fade. Silence crept back in. Your heartbeat rose.
What if it wasnât Dante who opened the lid next?
But a moment later, the top popped open and there he wasâgrinning like a devil who just cleaned house.
âYou good there, princess?â he teased, but there was something softer in his tone now. A flicker of concern.
You sighed, brushing your hair from your face.
âNot the best, but it can do.â
He chuckled and offered a hand, easily lifting you out and carrying you from the filth like a damn knight in blood-stained leather.
âYou donât have to worry,â he said over his shoulder. âWeâre near the castle. Weâre almost out. Iâll have you back to your pops in no time.â
You looked up at him, something warm blooming in your chest. You clasped your hands together.
âDante?â
He glanced back. âHmm?â
âThank you. For saving my life.â
He paused. Just for a moment.
âNo need,â he said casually, turning away again. âItâs my job. Come on nowâtimeâs valuable.â
And off you went.
You, the trash-can princess.
And him, the demon-slaying, woohoo-yelling knight.
Yeah⌠maybe you guys were a nice team.
đ â§âË â
You were cursed, a demonâs blood was injected inside you while you were unconscious.
One moment, you were walking beside Dante through the castleâs silent halls, chatting about exit plans and the next, your feet froze.
Your body stilled.
âHey,â Dante called casually from ahead. âYou good there, Princess?â
He turned, eyebrow raised. But when he took a step toward you, your hand shot up, swift and deadly. Before either of you could react, your fingers wrapped tightly around his throat.
The grip was monstrous. Not yours. Not truly.
âThe girl⌠is mine,â a voice growled through your lips. Hollow. Unrecognizable. You watched in horror, unable to scream, to cry, to stop.
Dante choked beneath your hold, eyes never leaving yours even as he struggled. He couldâve fought back. He shouldâve. But he didnât. He was afraid of hurting you.
Then just as suddenly, the grip loosened. Your knees buckled and you collapsed, only to be caught by warm, steady arms.
âW-What⌠happened?â you gasped, blinking rapidly.
Dante smiled at you gently. âNothinâ much, princess. Itâs good to have you back.â
Now, the two of you were in the underground levels, taking a breather in one of the rare safe zones. A âsave pointâ you called it, after one of the video games you played. A friendly mercenary from above had set up a dummy shooting range and Dante took to it like a kid at an arcade, blasting each target with confident ease.
And your cheers? They only made him better.
âWoo! Ten in a row!â
âNice shot, cowboy!â
âIs this your secret stress relief?â
Your laughter echoed off the stone walls and Dante couldnât stop the smirk tugging at his lips. He never thought babysitting a rich girl would be this⌠fun.
He wasnât gonna lie, it felt nice, having you around.
But behind your claps and witty quips⌠something was stirring.
As he reloaded for another round, he noticed the silence. No clapping. No teasing remarks.
He turned, and there you were, staring at your hands. Your expression was distant. Haunted. The veins beneath your skin looked darker. Angrier. Your smile was gone.
âHey,â Dante called softly, walking toward you. âYou good, princess?â
You looked up at him, guilt swimming in your eyes.
âI hurt you,â you whispered.
âYou had no control over that.â
âBut still!â you snapped, frustration breaking through. âWhat if I do lose control? What then?â
You looked around the area, eyes glassy. Tears were beginning to pool, and you hated it.
âIâm sorry, DanteâŚâ Your voice cracked. âIâm just⌠so scared.â
His eyes softened instantly.
âWhen that happened⌠I was there. Inside my body. Screaming, but no one could hear me. It was like⌠like a nightmare I couldnât wake up from!â
You stumbled forward, leaning into his chest. He didnât hesitateâhis arms wrapped around you, holding you tightly, protectively.
For a long moment, neither of you spoke. Just the sound of your quiet sobs, and the steady beat of his heart.
Then he smiled into your hair and whispered:
âYouâre the strongest girl Iâve known, (Y/N). What you did back in the castle while I was trapped and unable to reach you? You handled yourself like a damn pro. Youâre gonna beat this. I know you will.â
He gently pulled back to look at you, brushing a strand of hair from your face.
âIâm gonna bring you home safe.â
Your eyes met his.
For once, the fear inside you faded just a little, replaced by something warm. Trust. Hope. Maybe even something more.
âNow come on, donât you wanna try this shooting game?â
đ â§âË â
It had taken over.
Veronica. It was the name of the demon that had fully consumed your body, turning you into a twisted mirror of yourself. Black veins streaked across your face, eyes glowing an unnatural red, your voice dripping with venom as she mocked Dante with every word.
But the hardest part wasnât the speed of her attacks. It wasnât the razor-sharp accuracy or the maddening, taunting laugh echoing in the chamber.
It was you.
You,whose body Veronica now wore like a trophy, was why Dante hesitated. Each bullet, each strike, each blow brought him closer to ending the fight⌠and possibly hurting the one person he didnât want to lose.
You, who had laughed with him in the darkest of places.
You, who was the clear representation of why he saves humans.
You, who made even a devil feel a little more human.
Then came the moment.
Veronica, grinning wickedly, spotted the flicker of hesitation.
âJackpot,â she hissed. âSo this is the weakness of Spardaâs sonâŚâ
She lunged for himâfangs bared, blade raisedâbut she stopped.
She froze.
From inside the shell, you fought. Screaming in silence. Pushing against the darkness. Your hands trembled mid-strike, and your knees gave out. Her control faltered.
âNo⌠no!!â Veronica howled in rage.
As Dante effortlessly slices through the demons, his eyes never leave you. He could feel it, too, the pull, the connection, even though you were trapped inside that monster. But now, he had you back. You were fighting for control, resisting the demonâs urges to hurt him, and damn, if that didnât make him proud.
The demon smirked, but it faltered when it realized you werenât backing down. Dante grinned, his confidence returning like a wave crashing over him. "Thatâs my girl," he muttered under his breath. Then, with a flick of his wrist, he entered his Devil Trigger, the power surging through him.
The demon howled in defiance. âNO! I am the queen of everything! I WILL NOT FALL!â
Dante shot a look full of cocky confidence. "Yeah? Well, guess what? Youâre about to get dethroned."
With one final slash, the demonâs body was sliced in half. You fell, but before you could hit the ground, Dante was already there, catching you in his arms. You blinked, your vision blurry, then you smiled up at him, warmth flooding your chest.
âD-DanteâŚ?â
He smiled. âGotcha.â
You blinked at him, dazed, but safe. Then you grinned weakly.
âMy hero.â
âGood to have you back, princess. I missed you.â
You looked up at him with a teasing smile.
âYeah?â
Before he could answer, static crackled through his comm. Ladyâs voice cut in.
âYouâve got exactly five minutes before this place goes boom. Underground tunnel. Vehicleâs waiting. Move your asses.â
Dante rolled his eyes. âBuzzkill.â
He looked down at you again, cocky grin back in place.
âWell, what do you say, princess? Care for one last ride?â
You smirked, brushing hair from your face.
âIâd be honored.â
đ â§âË â
The jet ski roared across the water, moonlight shimmering off the waves. You screamed in exhilaration, clinging to Danteâs back as the wind whipped through your hair.
Finally, he slowed, stopping right in the middle of the vast, open sea. The stars above were glittering. Everything was still.
Dante leaned back slightly, looking over his shoulder.
âNot bad, huh?â he said with that familiar cocky lilt.
You chuckled breathlessly, cheeks flushed.
âWhat a crazy first date.â
He raised an eyebrow. âYou consider this a date?â
You hummed. âMm⌠yeah. I mean, you picked me up, saved my life, took me for a rideâkinda romantic.â
Dante chuckled, low and smooth. âDamn. Guess Iâve still got it.â
Then you leaned forward, close to his ear.
âYouâve been putting in work all day, Dante. How about some overtime? Iâm sure youâll enjoy this shift a lot more.â
He tilted his head slightly, that cocky smirk growing.
âI donât think thatâs in the company handbook... but to hell with it.â His eyes sparkled with mischief as he twisted the throttle, sending the jet ski speeding ahead. âHang on tight, princess.â
The engine roared, and the two of you shot forward, the water crashing around you as your arm found its way on his waist. Danteâs grin widened, his satisfaction palpable, especially when he glanced at you, a loving look in his eyes.
So this is what his father felt when he fell in love with his mother, Eva.
your body is a blank canvas, and he is the artist. every stroke, every gasp, every drop left behind is a signature.
NOW LOADING... where he finishes, how he claims you, why youâll never forget it. BREEDING LEVEL: LEGENDARY.
NERO MESSIER THAN HE MEANT TO BE SPARDA
REVVED TOO HARD INSIDE, ON YOUR STOMACH
Youâre on your stomach, ass up, face buried in the sheets, and Neroâs trying so hard to be quiet. Heâs panting against your spine, trying not to lose it as your body rocks with every sloppy, desperate thrust. His metal arm clutches your waist, keeping you right where he wants you⌠No, where he needs you.
âF-fuckâyou feel so good,â he grits, voice cracking, cheeks flushed a deep crimson. âI swear to god, baby, youâre gonna kill me like thisâŚâ
You moan his nameâsoft, ruined. He chokes. Actually chokes on air, and then you say it. You say the words that ruin him. âInside. Nero⌠please. I want it.â
Everything stops, because shut up he is trying so hard not to cum.
He pulls back just enough to stare down at you, wide-eyed, pupils blown. His mouth parts like he wants to say something, but all that comes out is a strangled noise. His next thrust hits deep, harder than before, as if your plea just flipped a switch in him because it did.
âShitâfuck, babyâare you sure?â he gasps, voice wrecked. âYou say shit like that and Iâm gonna fucking devil trigger, I swear to godâŚâ
You nod, reaching back to grab at him, begging with your body now too. He groans. Loud. Desperate. He canât hold back, and with one more thrust, heâs gone.
Nero cums with a growl, burying himself to the hilt as his cock pulses inside you. His body curls over yours, trembling with the force of it, one hand fisting in your hair, the other braced against your lower back as he fills you fullâhot, thick, way too much.
âAh, goddamn it,â he whines into your neck, lips brushing your ear. âYouâre so goodâso fucking perfectâŚshit, I didnât mean to, but I wanted toâŚâ
He stays there, cock twitching with your cunt fluttering around him, milking every drop. When he finally pulls out, he watches it leak from you and his eyes go wide, reverent, wrecked. He exhales a curse, dragging a hand down his face.
ââŚIâm gonna be broke from buying Plan B.â
You hum, still hazy, a teasing lilt to your voice. âThen stop doing it.â He glares. Blushes. Cums again in his fucking mind.
âYouâre the worst,â he mutters, reaching for a towel, then staring at the mess on your thighs instead.
...But he doesnât clean it up. Because just then you slowly roll onto your back aching, dripping, and stretch like a goddamn goddess. Your stomachâs already smeared with him, slick between your thighs, glowing in the low light. And Nero loses it again.
âOhâoh fuck,â he gasps, jerking forward like a man possessed. His cock, still hard, twitches at the sight. âIâI canâtââ
He fists himself, frantic, not even trying to hold back. He finishes all over your stomach and tits with a hoarse cry, hips stuttering, ropes of cum painting you again like itâs instinct, unholy thought filling his head.
âIâll do it again,â he pants. âAs many times as you let me.â
DANTE UNHINGED IN THE HOTTEST WAY SPARDA
HITTING THE JACKPOT INSIDE, ON YOUR TITS OR ASS
Danteâs not just fucking youâheâs painting you. A masterpiece of moans, soreness, and his cum exactly where he wants it. His favorite spot? Depends on how feral he's feeling.
When he finishes inside, itâs deep and messy, punctuated by rough groans and his hips twitching as he empties himself into you. But Danteâs an exhibitionist with no one to impress but you. So sometimes, just to prove a point, he pulls out last second and strokes himself, watching your tits bounce or your ass jiggle beneath him and whistles at the sight of you looking like a fertility goddess. A second later he covers your body with thick ropes of cum while grinning like the devil himself.
"Gonna need a round two just to clean it up.â
He wants you to feel it drip, see it pool on your belly, or drip down your thighs. To him, youâre not just his partner, you are art itself, and he makes the finishing touches.
On the occasions when he finishes inside you (which is every time), heâs nested deep. Not just emotional damage deep, you swear you can feel his dick reaching your throat: thick, throbbing, filling every inch to perfection. His hips grind slowly, then a little faster, and your legs are shaking from how long heâs kept you right on the edge. You already had your orgasms. What is taking him so long?
âShit⌠you feel too good, baby,â he mutters, burring his head in the crock of your neck, his breath hot and ragged as he leaves a soft kiss there. âSo tight, like you were made for me, yeah?â
Then he sinks in fully with one final thrust, and you feel the twitch. The hot warmth of him spilling inside, not pullingâeven worse, he is not even trying to, because he loves this level of closeness and intimacy. Body to body, soul to soul.
Your body clamps down involuntarily, and you whimper at the sheer fullness and the way it stretches you, the way you swear you feel it in your belly. He chuckles, sinfully and proudly reaches down, pressing a hand flat to your lower abdomen.
âWell, look at that,â he pants, eyes glazed with lust and something a little unhinged. âAll mine, sweetheart. You are so beautiful when you are full of me.â
You shiver beneath him, dazed, needy, a little too into it. Your breath catches at the pressure blooming inside, the slick, hot mess. He pulls out slow, and when your hips jerk, his cum leaks out in thick white drips.
âNow you really look divine,â he murmurs, thumbing it back in like he canât help himself. âShit, Iâll grab Plan B in the morning, I swear. Just...let me enjoy this one, alright?â
You nod, voice lost somewhere between a sigh and a whimper. Right now, you don't have the mental capacity to respond or to think about anything other than him.
And the worst part is that you secretly love it. Love the way he fucks you like heâs claiming you for the very first time. Love the way he shows just how much he loves you. Love the way you already want more.
VERGIL TAKE EVERYTHING I OFFER SPARDA
THE APROACHING STORM INSIDE, ON YOUR THIGHS
He always finishes inside. Always. You won't catch this man slacking or not doing anything the way it's supposed to.
Thereâs something empowering about the way he holds you when heâs closeâone hand gripping your thigh to keep you from moving so much, the other hand cradling your throat, not tight, just enough for you to feel how fragile you are under him. His face is buried in your neck, breath cold despite the furious way his hips grind into yours.
âYou will take it,â he murmurs, voice low, trembling with control, with hunger. âDo you understand?â You nod, too far gone to speak, thighs trembling from the pressure building with every thrust. You can feel itâhis restraint snapping thread by thread, unraveling.
And then it hits, like a silent storm that no one knew would come. As an unexpected surprise that was more than pleasant.
He sinks in with a final, bruising thrust and stills. You feel the hot, pulsing rush of his release flood you, thick and deliberate, marking you. He groans low in his throatâa rare, vulnerable soundâas his jaw clenches against your shoulder. You clutch at his back, panting, moaning, full in the deepest, most primal sense.
He doesnât pull out, never does.
He stays inside you, hips pressed flush, as if trying to carve the shape of himself into your womb. You shift under him, overstimulated, but his hand presses your hip still.
âYou feel that?â he breathes against your ear. âMine.â
When Vergil finishes inside you, itâs not just sex, itâs a silent promise to keep the connection between two souls sacred. He doesnât moan or curse, just breathes out your name like a command, like a claim, because he has control over you, but you are also his weakness.
Each time, his eyes go half-lidded, that stoic expression crossing his face, like heâs giving you something sacred that will break any minute, something he shouldnât even think about. Heâs breaking a rule he made for himself, and when his cum leaks out of you, hot and heavy, he only watches it, lips twitching faintly. âWaste nothing.â
But on the rare occasions he doesnât finish inside you, when he has to pull out, because youâre sore or overstimulated or too full already; heâll wrap a hand around himself at the last second and cum over your thighs, groaning through gritted teeth. Something about the way it drips down your skin drives him feral. His breath hitches, drunken on the sight of the mess both of you created.
Thereâs awe in him when he sees you like thatâruined, shivering, legs sticky with him. âLook at you,â he mutters, voice caught between worship and mockery, typical Vergil. âGreedy little thing. Always asking for more... and yet you can barely take it.â
The words arenât cruel, not really. They come wrapped in quiet praise, veiled affection, something soft only you ever get from him. He leans down, mouth brushing your temple. And then stares at you like he always does, in a whisper so raw it almost doesnât sound like him:
âI love it.â A pause. âI love you.â
Yeah, you have this man wrapped around your finger ⌠or inside you.
Š2025 yominero do not copy, repost or modify my work.
Vergil the type of guy to hold heavy eye contact during conversations, purely out of interest or politeness but intentionally do so once he realizes it makes you nervous just to see you get flustered
Vergil the type of guy to write little love notes on sticky notes and leave them around the house for you to find
Vergil the type of guy to watch you sleep for a few minutes every morning, admiring the features of your face while you rest before getting his day started
Vergil the type of guy to correct your order in a resturant if any mistakes were made and you were too shy/nervous to say anything
Vergil the type of guy to rub his thumb across your skin whenever you hold hands
Vergil the type of guy to show up at your front door the second the time ticks over to the time you had planned.
Vergil the type of guy to always make sure the vases in your home are filled with fresh flowers
Vergil the type of guy to pay close attention to almost everything you do and say, remembering the smallest details and even unintentionally mimicking your small habits. (how you hold a pen, the way you nod when speaking to people, tone of words, etc)
Vergil the type of guy to have the most flattering and gratifying compliments up his sleeve but delivers them in a contradictory or flat tone, giving you a bit of whiplash in a very loving way
Vergil the type of guy to save all displays of affection for just the both of you, unless anyone tries to make a pass at you, to which he stands ominously behind you with an arm around your waist
Vergil the type of guy to watch you get ready for anything while leaning against the doorway, just watching you
Vergil the type of guy to kiss the crown of your head habitually whenever he leaves your side to do something else
Vergil the type of guy to enjoy, even prefer, spending time with you in near silence while you both do your own thing, enjoying the comfortable domesticity rather than unnecessary chatter
this doesn't mean he doesn't enjoy you talking though, Vergil could listen to you talk about something you were interested about for hours, taking in all the words you say and asking thoughtful questions about the topic/s.
as mentioned beforehand, he remembers everything you say to bring up in later conversations.
a/n: jarred my finger right before writing this it hurt like a bitch
