#un--txmed

[tenebrisarchangeli]

un--txmed replied to your post: Val with Temptress please!!

IM SCREAMING THIS LOOKS SO COOL!!!

   ~{ I’M SO GLAD YOU LIKE IT AAAAAA

[tenebrisarchangeli]

Val with Temptress please!!

Val in Temptress (x - @un–txmed )Transparent || White Background

[crimsxnrebellion-blog]

Hesitant Beginnings

A little drabble for miss Inna’s birthday about the crazy relationship her muse, @un--txmed, and Dante have developed. Or my take on how these fools probably began their relationship.

Anyway, happy birthday, bebe! Hope you have a super amazing day! Love you! <3

Dante rolled off of the petite red head beneath him, flopping down onto the mattress, panting. A wide grin split his features, beads of sweat from the sheer duration and of their coupling dotting his chest and forehead. He chuckled upon hearing her sweet little mewls of protest, her small form clinging to his side. A muscular arm wrapped around her, glancing down at her mass of scarlet tresses.

"If you're trying to get me in the mood for...whatever round we're on, you're gonna have to give me a little bit, Val."

Crystalline blues shot up to him, full lips pooched out and brows knit together. "You're such a man. So against a little bit of cuddling and always making it sexual," the woman chided, slapping him playfully on the chest. "As if anyone is going to know you cuddled with your fuck buddy."

Dante snorted, instinctively gliding his fingers along her spine, eliciting a shiver and a soft sigh from the woman in his arms. "You didn't seem to mind me being such a man ten minutes ago."

Even without seeing her face, he could feel her rolling her eyes as she smacked his abdomen. "You're so insufferable. I don't know why I keep agreeing to sleep with you." Slipping out of his grip, she scooted off the bed, sure to shoot him a playful glare upon hearing his laughter.

Turning on his side, he watched as she padded over to her haphazardly abandoned jeans, bending over to dig around in the pockets for her cigarettes and giving him a perfect view of her backside. In truth, he had wondered the same himself, breaking his own "one night only" rule for Val on more than one occasion. He blamed the fact that, considering their...special circumstances, she had to continuously check up on him, and, when she did, for one reason or another, they ended up in bed. Or on the couch. His desk. Even so eager as to do it against the door.

They had met two months ago at a club. The barely clearing five foot redhead caught his eye the moment she walked in, easily overshadowing the two prospects currently vying for his attention. He'd be the first to admit he had a thing for short girls, especially one who possessed a sweet face like Val's. A sucker for big eyes and plush lips. Her assets below the neck did not hurt either: an hourglass figure with a full bust, thick thighs, and a perfect ass. He wanted her, the hunter instinct and his libido switched into overdrive. His persistence paid off and, after a steamy dance, they ended up back at Devil May Cry, shedding clothing all the way up to his bedroom.

Little did he know that, behind that innocent face was a plethora of dark secrets, one which would rear its ugly head as she rode him. As he basked in the pure bliss her professional motions elicited, he felt cold metal sink into his chest, the pain a stark contrast to the pleasure. Though, it paled in comparison to the terror that slowly crept into his mind; how could he possibly lie his way out of the without admitting his identity?

Unfortunately, no amount of fast talking would get him out of explaining why her stab to the heart hadn't killed him, not to mention how it healed almost immediately after she, obviously shocked, yanked the blade from his chest. Thus, the truth came out on both sides, at least as much as was necessary. Both made the other promise not to divulge their secrets. Val, a little more paranoid than himself, vowed to check in on him and make sure he did not turn her in to the police.

Not that it bothered him in the slightest. At first, he only expected her to pop in, question him about whether of not he'd squealed, then be off on her merry way. A moment of eye candy for him hardly hurt his feelings. Though, their meetings never ended so innocently, and they're relationship evolved to one similar to that of friends with benefits.  

Pale hues followed her to the window, watching those hips sway enticingly. She shoved the window up, a warm, Spring breeze creeping in. She slung one leg over the sill and lifted her bottom up to it, straddling the wood with her cigarette hanging from her lips. He noticed her eyes flit over to him, a smirk settling on her lips as she flicked her lighter and lit the cigarette. "No...I know why. It's because you're a stupid, sexy beast who's great in bed, and I'm a little bit addicted."

"Well, you do have an addictive personality," he pointed out with a chuckle, nodding toward the cigarette she took a long drag of. "But I can't blame you. I am on god-tier with my looks."

She rolled her eyes, but the smile did not leave her lips. She exhaled a cloud of smoke, gaze now locked with the other side of the window. Deep blue eyes were distant, thoughtful, and a part of him—one that seemed to grow a bit larger and obnoxiously louder each time they met—wanted to know what went on in that pretty head of hers. If she replayed their mind blowing sex like a spectacular porno. Thinking about her plan for the next day. And, more recently, if she thought about him as much as he did her. But, shockingly, not in a sexual way.

"Mm...I suppose you do make most men pale in comparison," she mused, squashing her cigarette out and tossing the butt. "Like the guy I killed today. If I had never met you, I'd find him irresistible. Dark hair, tan skin, tall, and muscular. An Adonis!"  

Her excited squeal made him cringe, but not in annoyance of the high pitch. Despite the essential compliment, envy still niggled at the edges of his mind. The thought of her in bed with another male, even if she intended to murder him for her twisted revenge on all men, caused his jaw to clench, the urge to bare his teeth and growl possessively entirely present and baffling. The half devil playboy hardly understood why he wanted to lash out; the arrangement they had silently made was obviously fuck buddies, plain and simple. She could sleep with who she wanted, and he could share his bed with anyone else (despite his lack of wanting new conquests of late). So, why now did he want exclusivity with her?

"I sort of wish I would have at least finished with him before killing him...he was pretty good," she continued dreamily, oblivious to the crisis currently threatening to explode in Dante's mind. "Maybe I should have spared him...played with him a little longer."

Before he knew it or he could control his legs, he had stood up, padding to the door a little more quickly than was natural. He didn't bother with clothing, simply yanked the door open. He only paused when he heard her voice, questioning his strange behavior. He simply glanced over his shoulder, swallowing the biting retorts that threatened to bubble forth from his lips.

"Going to get a drink," he lied, response clipped. "Want anything?"

As soon as she shook her head, he exited his bedroom, descending the stairs to the main office. He brushed his hand over her face and through his hair in exasperation. How could he let this happen? How could he let himself get so attached?

He did not bother to sit at his desk, panicked feet too restless for sitting. He should have had more control. But, he couldn't blame the sex alone. He enjoyed her company, their conversations deeper than the typical small talk he endured with the few people—save Lady and Trish—he spoke to. Not to mention, her knowing of his heritage allowed him to relax far more than he could with others. He would certainly never trigger in front of her; he didn't know if he'd ever find enough comfort with anyone other than his partners. But the fact that she knew and didn't fear him began to change his perspective on the possibility of a relationship.                  

Vengeful murderess aside, Val did possess a kind spirit, despite her efforts to hide it from him. Interesting and intelligent, and a bit of a tomboy. On their third meeting, he found out she was a kickboxer, which ate up the rest of her spare time between banging (and killing) strangers, checking up on him, and sleep. She didn't even mind his pizza habit, even when he snuck away from cuddle sessions to get some leftovers. And, even though he didn't enjoy sharing, she'd even ask him to bring her a slice from time to time.

Though, he doubted Val thought the same. She made no hint of becoming a one man kind of girl.

As if his mind had summoned her, he heard her small feet padding down the stairs. "Dante?"

He hoped she didn't notice the tense of his muscles. Managing the most convincing smile he could, he turned around to face her. It became more genuine when he noted her state of dress: she had dug out one of the few button down, black shirts he owned, an insistence of Lady's in case he needed to look less like a "cowboy stripper" and more professional. The top few buttons were left undone, showing off an indulging amount of cleavage.  

"Thought you didn't want any?" Smile turned to trademark smirk as he circled his desk, plopping down in his chair. "Man, I try to save you the trouble of getting up and you do it anyway. Can't a guy be a gentleman?"

She did not share his amusement; she merely crossed her arms and strode over to him, perching her small frame on his knee. "I'm not stupid, Dante."

"Never said you were,"he grunted without missing a beat. Though, his distress showed through more than he would have liked in that quick, snide response.  

Gentle fingers trailed along the stubble of his jawline, coaxing him to meet her gaze. Scarlet brows were knit together slightly, wrinkling her forehead slightly. "I never took you for the envious type...I've talked about my conquests before, just like you have. What's changed?"

He wished she had not trapped him by sitting on his lap, for he wished to flee the situation. He could face a horde of demons, but his feelings? He preferred to beat those back into the depths of his subconscious than let them truly permeate up there. But now, he didn't appear to have much choice.  

"It's just," he began pathetically, mulling over his words as he tried to ignore the petite hand absently tracing patterns on his muscular chest. Another sigh, fingers weaving through his hair in frustration. "Maybe...maybe we shouldn't do this anymore."

He could see as well as feel her whole body deflate, her expression unreadable as she quickly glanced away. As quickly as her body went nearly limp, she tensed up again. Before he could react, her hand connected with his cheek, the flesh stinging like she had set it on fire. Confusion marred his features; definitely not the reaction he expected.

"You're such an idiot..."

Pale hues snapped to her, the insult hardly dissipating his confusion. "How?!"

She did not answer with words. Instead, she grabbed his face and pulled him down for a searing kiss, keeping them locked together until they both gasped for air. She nuzzled his stubbled cheek and refused to meet his gaze, a rose tint rising in pale cheeks. "I...like you, Dante...and I want to be around you. And you're stupid for not seeing that."

When he did not reply right away, her gaze finally met his. "I assume you feel the same, considering your little diva fit."

"It wasn't a fit!" he protested, though his nearing ecstatic grin conveyed the opposite of irritation. In truth, he felt intensely relieved. Still afraid, considering the doubts he had developed concerning relationships over the years, but, if she wanted to give them a try, he was willing to try and put those aside. He wanted this.

Smiling, he captured her full lips again, the kiss gentler than the smoldering ones they usually shared. "Well...only if you think you can handle me more than just one day a week. Think you're up to the challenge, babe?"

Another playful slap to the chest before she burst into a cute fit of giggles and buried her face in the crook of his neck. "Do you ever just shut up?"