Fandom: Devil May Cry
Characters: Dante, Lirael Thorne (OC)
Tags: Slow Burn, Romance, Arranged Marriage, Alternate Universe, First Time, Friends to Lovers
Chapters: 12/13
co-written by @lickitysplitfic
Summary: An old, long-forgotten promise between gods comes back to haunt Dante when it deposits an unfamiliar woman on his door. Claiming to be the descendant of Ler, she says that they’re meant to fulfill the oath made by Sparda centuries ago, and all he can do is watch as she turns his life upside down. Yet when her parents come knocking, demanding the oath be fulfilled, he’s forced to choose: return to the bachelor ways he loved so much, or give in to the emotions brewing between him.
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Lir opens her eyes to the sun streaming in the window. It's brighter than she is used to, and once her vision adjusts she realizes it is because of the reflection against the water. She stretches a bit, lifting her head to get a better view, when she feels something heavy on her hip.
Looking over, she sees that Dante has moved to lay against her, his arm hanging over her waist. Lir holds her breath for a moment, not knowing what to do, until she carefully rolls to her back. Dante mumbles a bit and buries his face into the pillow, his hand dragging over her stomach. It almost tickles, making her bite her lip to hold in a laugh.
"Dante?" she murmurs. She glances at the clock on the bedside table, seeing it is midmorning, much later than she is normally up. "Dante . . ."
He grunts, his brow pinching, and she studies him. Dante seems so peaceful now, despite his sleep-mussed hair, a far cry from last night, and she bites her lip as she reaches out to carefully trace the strong curve of his bicep. All she had wanted was to hear three little words, no matter how silly that desire might have been. Might still be, because she knows that if he woke up and said them, she'd stay in a heartbeat, for more of these little moments, for waking up next to him and watching him drowse in the morning sun.
But he hadn't said them, and that tells her all she needs to know.
It'll be best to go back. The seal is safe, she has done her duty, so her family will welcome her, even try to set up a proper match for her with some son of one of their friends. She can return to her life of relative peace and quiet, continuing on the line of Ler like she was always meant to. Or, perhaps, they'll give her a place of her own and keep the marriage with Dante intact, in case the seal begins to waver once more. Either way, she'll be cared for, and safe from these emotions she has no right to feel.
She closes her eyes, taking the opportunity to doze a bit until Dante's cell phone rings and startles them both. He groans and reaches his hand to fumble for the phone on the table, his other still pressed to her hip. Lir sits up on her elbows to watch as he presses a button and grunts into the receiver, his head hitting the pillow again.
She can hear a voice on the other end before he says, "No, forget it, call Lady." Lir's brows go up when she hears the voice get louder but Dante swipes the phone and drops it on the mattress before pressing his head face first into the pillow.
She moves to get up, deciding now is better than never, only for his arm to snake around her waist and pull her back to him. "Five more minutes," he mumbles, giving her a squeeze, and she stares at the ceiling, wondering why he's being so nice after the things she told him.
"Was that Morrision?" she asks.
"Mm-hm."
"Do you need to go back?"
"Nah. Lady'll handle it." He yawns, turning his head to peer at her blearily. "You made up your mind to go, huh?"
Lir takes a deep breath. "I'll be right back," she says, slipping out from under his arm and heading into the bathroom.
A shower clears her head, and Lir stares at herself in the mirror as she combs her hair. "This is for the best," she tells herself. "Even Dante said I deserve to be with someone who . . ." She presses her lips together, feeling foolish suddenly.
When she returns to the bedroom, her robe tightly cinched, Dante is sitting on the edge of the bed, texting someone. "Everything alright?" she asks.
He looks up and quickly stashes the phone. "Yeah. Just checking in." He clears his throat and stands, dressed only in his boxers. Lir glances away as he asks, "Did you make up your mind then?"
"I . . ." Yes. I'm going home. I think it might hurt now because we know each other so well, but it'll pass, no different than anything. "I think . . ." Why is this so difficult? Lir knows what she needs to say, and she knows that she needs to pack and get a train ticket so she can gather what few things she has from the shop, but he's watching her with that same guarded expression from the night before and she can't get the words out.
"You think?" he prompts. "Doesn't sound like a decision, if I'm honest."
Lir takes a deep breath and steps towards him. "I don't want to be a sacrifice, Dante," she says quietly. "I don't want to just be the wife of Sparda. I thought I did, but you taught me that I could be more than that."
She risks a glance, and the surprise on his face spurs her on. "The truth is, if I had never heard that the texts were wrong, then I would have found happiness with you, despite how you . . . Well, you didn't want this either. We fulfilled the oath and kept the seals closed. If there was more between us, I mean if you felt . . ."
His eyes are intense on her, and Lir feels her mouth go dry. "We didn't though, did we?" Dante chuckles. "We never shook hands."
"Oh." Lir steps up and holds her hand out. "It was very nice to have met you, Dante," she says quietly.
She watches as he considers her, then to her relief he takes her hand. He gives it a squeeze, the handshake brief, but before she can draw away Dante says, "You have it all wrong, though."
"What do you mean?" Lir frowns.
Dante lifts her hand to press a kiss to her fingers. "There is more between us. I know you feel it too."
She goes very still as his lips press again to the back of her hand. "What are you saying?" she asks.
"I'm not a poet, Lir." His other hand slides against her back and nudges her forward until her arm is pinned between them and she's forced to look up at him. "I don't have any pretty words. If you want the truth of it, I'd noticed long before your folks came by. Couldn't get you out of my head. I'd be sittin' at the desk, and thinking of you, or in the shower, or tryin' to sleep."
She swallows thickly to clear her throat. "I don't understand."
He shrugs. "You made my life better. Made me better. I told you I wouldn't chase you, and I won't. If goin' back makes you happy, then I'll let you, even though I've half a mind to lock you in the shop so you can't."
Her hand curls against his chest. She wishes she could get some space, breathe a bit and understand what he's saying, but it feels too good to touch him like this. "I . . ." she whispers as hot tears rise.
"What do you want, Lir?" he asks. Dante kisses her wrist, sighing against it. "Just tell me."
"I want to be loved," she replies.
Dante pauses for a brief moment before he grins against her skin. "Well, that's something I can do." He kisses along her arm, and she watches in half amusement and half confusion as he pushes her sleeve up. When he can't go any further, he tilts to kiss her cheek, then her temple.
"I'm not kidding, Dante," Lir says.
He grins and yanks her against him before pressing his mouth to hers. The kiss is firm, but somewhat chaste, and Lir holds her breath as he massages his lips against hers for several long moments before he pulls away. "Neither am I," he chuckles. "I love you."
"What?" She stares at him, wondering if she's still asleep. It's too much like a movie, minus the sobbing and screaming, so perhaps she did fall back asleep after Morrison called. "You . . . Huh?"
He tilts his head with a smile. "You gonna make me say it again?"
"Can you pinch me first?"
With a snort, he does, and she yelps at the sting. "There. I told you before we got hitched that you made it easy to forget that love ain't for me. Not because I don't want it, because of what I am, what I do. Now, though . . . Well, I love you. That's all I've got."
A million questions roll through her mind, too fast to even process. Instead of choosing one she blinks at him until Dante says, "Is that enough?"
"Yeah," she laughs. "Fuck, I love you too."
His brows shoot up in surprise, and then Dante laughs as he smothers her again with a kiss. Lir wraps her arms around his neck as his arms go tight around her waist, nearly lifting her off her toes. His mouth is hot and hungry on hers, leaving her breathless, her heart pounding when he bites her lip. "Say it like that again," he says.
"Fuck, I love you," she giggles.
Dante growls as he kisses her again. Lir clings to him as he walks her backward to the bed, and a moment later she sinks into the mattress as he leans over her. The bulk of him is nearly suffocating, but she clings to his back to keep him close, unwilling to let him go. Their mouths twist and slide together, almost frantically, until his hands yank open her robe and slide inside.
He groans as his palms drag along her body, pushing her legs apart before covering her breasts. Lir lets out her own moan, shrugging out of the robe, when his phone rings again.
Dante lets go a stream of curses that make her cover her mouth with her hand as he grabs the cell phone. "What?" he shouts, and then a moment later, "Don't call me again. I'm trying to fuck my wife over here!"
He presses the red button and throws the phone across the room, where it lands with a thud on the floor. Her eyes are wide when he looks back at her, and she bites back a shriek of laughter, her hand still clamped tightly to her mouth.
His grin this time is slow and more than a little predatory as he leans over her, bracing his palms on either side of your head. "Think that's funny, darlin'?" The endearment makes her blush, and she shakes her head quickly, tears of mirth pricking at her eyes. "Really? 'Cause you look pretty tickled to me."
Lir manages to get her giggles under control. She reaches for him, carding her fingers through his hair and urging his mouth down. "Shut up and fuck your wife, Dante."
He lets out a groan as he kisses her like a man dying of thirst, his tongue rolling over hers. She's breathless by the time he draws away to mouth at her neck, and only the press of his thigh between her legs draws her from her daze. "Don't know when you started swearin'," he mumbles against her throat, "but it's hot."
"Too much time with you," she sighs, prodding him with her foot.
He laughs again as he kisses down her body, his mouth dragging over her breasts. His lips and tongue seek her nipple, drawing it into a stiff peak before going to the other, and Lir is arching her back and gasping by the time he finishes. "Mm," he hums along her stomach, his facial hair tickling her skin.
She sighs and turns her head, watching him leave kisses down her abdomen. Her core tightens with every press of his mouth, something inside her almost jerking with pleasure, her core throbbing. Sighing his name, she strokes her fingers in his hair as he kisses her hip, and then Lir bites her lip when he pushes her knees wide apart.
His gaze flicks up to her. "Haven't done this before, so I'm gonna need some pointers."
"Haven't done—oh . . ." Her head falls back against the pillows when he kisses her sex, his tongue dragging slowly over her slit. It's like nothing she's ever experienced before, so wildly different from the few times she'd touched herself that she isn't sure what to make of it at first. Weird, certainly, but also good, and when he braces one hand on her stomach, she covers it with her own and gives an encouraging squeeze. "I think, um . . ."
"Hm?"
Blushing furiously, she reaches down to part her folds, sliding her fingers up to expose her clit, and she wants to curl up in embarrassment when his eyes focus on her there. "If you, um. It always feels best when I touch here, so. Uh."
"Touch yourself, huh?" His voice is teasing, and her face goes hot, but he presses a kiss just above her mound. "You gotta show me later."
Lir bites her lip, but then his tongue presses to her bud and it is heaven. Slowly he laps at her, the wet, soft sensations driving her mad with pleasure. She cries out over and over, her nails digging into her hands, but she can feel his breath picking up as he works his tongue against her. Finally he presses it flat on her clit and strokes it, and Lir rocks back, grinding against the sensation until her head spins.
His body shifts between her legs, and she cries out when he slides a finger into her core, his answering groan vibrating against her flesh and winding the coil in her stomach so tight that she can barely breathe, let alone think. All she knows is his mouth on her clit and his finger thrusting in and out, stroking a place she can never quite reach on her own, and her back bows from the bed when the first rush of ecstasy hits her. Her mouth opens in a silent scream as it slams into her again and again, almost violent compared to the soft waves of the orgasms she's given herself.
Lir tugs on his hair sharply, thrusting her hips up towards his mouth. Dante makes a noise that buzzes against her labia, sending another jolt of pleasure through her. He licks her quickly, placing kiss after kiss on her sex until she finally goes limp, letting go of his hair. "Sorry, sorry," she pants, staring at the ceiling in shock.
Dante comes into view, an amused look on his face. "Sorry for what? That was sexy as hell."
"Did I hurt you?" she pants. "I was pulling your hair."
He laughs and shrugs. "I've had way worse."
She nods. His body blankets hers as he kisses her neck, his hands pressed to the small of her back to hold her flush against him. It's soothing, and as the trembling in her legs begins to subside, she lifts one to slot him more comfortably between her thighs. "Do you . . . want me to do that for you, too?" He lifts his head, blinking at her, and she bites her lip. "I was . . . I mean, I know how, in theory, but I haven't tried on a live person before, and . . ."
Dante closes his eyes, his expression pained. "Not, uh . . . Not this time. I already made a fool of myself once with you, and I'll do it again if you, uh, suck me off."
"A what?" she asks, or tries to, but he cuts her off with another kiss. Dante crawls up between her legs, massaging one thigh as he leans against his other forearm, and Lir feels his erection pressed against her leg. She smiles, reaching between them to take hold of his cock, and when he groans she pumps her hand slowly a few times before guiding him towards her body.
"Are you sure?" he murmurs against her lips.
Lir nods. "I want you."
He pulls away just enough to study her for a moment, and she waits, her pulse in her ears. "Lemme know if I hurt you," he says quietly. She thinks back to their first time, barely able to take half of him in until his seed had slicked both of them up, and exhales slowly.
"You won't," she replies.
Dante keeps his eyes on hers as he presses forward, and she gasps as the blunt head of him penetrates her. It's a sensation that's as strange as it is wonderful, feeling her body open to accommodate him, stretching around his girth, and she whimpers when he rocks his hips, carefully sliding the first few inches in and out. "Fuck, you're so tight."
Lir runs her hands over his shoulders, her head falling back as he works himself inside of her. Now that he is in charge and setting the pace, she focuses on the way his cock feels, watching his face drawn in concentration and admiring the way his body looks, tense and hot under her touch. She scrapes her nails down his chest, dragging through the hair there, and when he gives a low groan she drags them lower, stroking his stomach.
"Oh, fuck, fuck," he pants, pressing his face to her shoulder.
Even though she is underneath him, she feels powerful, and desired, and she reaches around him to grab his backside and squeeze. "Fuck me, Dante," she whispers in his ear.
He turns his head, his lips capturing hers in a sloppy kiss that is more teeth and tongue, and she moans into his mouth when his hips finally press to her thighs. It's not quite painful, a little uncomfortable at most, but drowning that out is the rush of pleasure at having been able to take him fully without any hurt at all, and she basks in that while he kisses her over and over again as her body adjusts. "You good?" he murmurs.
"Yeah," she breathes. "You?"
He snorts, nudging her cheek with his nose. "Fucking perfect. No where else I'd rather be. In fact, I think I might—"
"Dante."
"Right." He moves slowly, short pumps of his hips that keep his cock buried deeply inside her. The friction strokes her core in a way that has her aching, throbbing for more, and when he tilts her hips up his pelvis grinds against her clit, bringing a new flush of arousal. It's pure bliss, her little groans with each movement swallowed by his kisses as he drives her towards another orgasm.
"Lir," he groans. His thrusts grow quicker, rougher, until the sound of their skin slapping fills the room along with their moans. It's just like it was last time, and she drags his face to her neck, keening when he bites down just enough for her to feel the pricking of his teeth. "Lir, fuck, I'm gonna—"
"Together," she gasps.
His grunts turn to a whimper as he grabs her hips, rocking faster and faster. She draws her knees apart and moans at the way his body grinds against her, solid and hard as a rock. "Dante!" Lir cries out.
She grabs his shoulders as it hits, throwing her head back. The orgasm is deep, rocking to her core, and she feels the flood of his seed a second later. It makes his movements silky, his cock sliding in and out easily as he fucks her through the pulsing bliss. Their cries mingle between panting kisses until finally he drives in one last time, holding her body tightly.
In the aftermath, Dante rolls onto his side, pulling her with him, and she sighs and tucks her head beneath his chin, listening to the pounding of his heart and smiling to know he's as affected as she is. "Dante," she begins, "we'll have to call my—"
A crash of thunder interrupts her. It shakes the room, deafening in its ferocity, and Dante pulls from her with a shout, his hand pulling a gun from beneath the pillow. Both of them stare out of the window, and Lir can only gape at the roiling see and lashing rain; had she been so caught up in him that she'd somehow missed the storm brewing outsides? Waves crash against the shore, sending beachgoers scurrying under their umbrellas, and Lir reaches for Dante's hand, reassured when he squeezes her fingers.
Then, as quickly as it came, the storm passes.
It's nearly comical to watch the sea settle into its leisure, the dark sky brightening within seconds. The two of them blink at one another, and then Dante hoots out a laugh that has her giggling, too. "Well, whaddya know? Guess ol' Ler's finally satisfied about that promise of his."
"It's strange," she agrees. "I wonder what it actually was? The handshake? Sex?"
Dante shrugs. "Who knows? I've met plenty of would-be gods, and none of them made any damn sense, either."
Lir smiles and reaches for him. Dante stashes the gun on the table and moves into her arms, folding her up and pressing a kiss to her cheek. "You should check in with Morrison, see if he's okay," she murmurs.
"Yeah, I should," Dante mumbles, continuing to kiss her down the side of her neck.
She lays quietly for a moment, enjoying his attention before asking, "Who were you texting when I came back in the room?"
"Hm? Oh." Dante props himself up rather sheepishly as he looks down at her, mouth twisting. "It was . . . well, Nero. He was kind of giving me a uh, a pep talk."
Lir chuckles, rubbing his arm. "That is sweet."
"I was too nervous," he admits. "I mean, the first night was so bad, and then—"
"It was bad?" she squeaks. Her eyes go wide as Dante frowns. "I figured it must have been something like that. I'm sorry."
"No, not for me, for you," he insists. "I didn't, uh . . . well, I had all the fun, so to speak." Lir blinks at him, and he lets out a loud sigh. "I didn't take care of ya like I should have. So I thought you thought, well, I don't know what I thought you thought but I thought you thought something."
Lir bursts out laughing, covering her face as his lips curl into a smile. "Dante," she sighs affectionately, stroking his cheek.
He plants a kiss on her palm. "Hope you didn't have any plans today," he murmurs. "Because I'm going to make up for that night about twelve times."
