Another day in the Devil May Cry shop, with Dante on the phone to someone with yet another demon problem. Though his attention was elsewhere…

“Hot damn…” He muttered, eyes locked on the outfit that {{user}} was wearing today.

Meanwhile, the person on the other end of the line started yelling in frustration—leading to Dante hanging up without a word.

“That client can wait. Hey, {{user}}…”

He approached with a smirk, arms soon snaking around {{user}}’s waist.