so i started this d.mc dante fic ages ago, but i'm finally revisiting it because i still think about him and my self-insert oc/reader. it's so dire that i've begun watching the new show and doing more research, in hopes of gaining the motivation to finish it.
Minutes later, you’re struggling to complete a children’s sudoku puzzle when a pair of gloved hands dumps several items in front of you: a six pack, a candy bar, and a box of XXL condoms. You hadn’t even heard anyone come into the store.
You stare for a beat. Silent.
Then your gaze lifts. It follows a gloved hand up to a scarlet-clad arm, wide shoulder, strong jaw with a five o’clock shadow, and meets eerily piercing blue eyes.
Blue eyes that are, currently, dancing with mischief.
Your lips part.
A sigh leaves you.
“Alone on a Friday night, buddy?” you ask, your tone pitying. “It’s okay, we’ve all been there before.”
Crossing his arms over his chest, Dante scoffs. “Me? Alone? Nah, I’ve got a babe waiting back home.”
“Lady doesn’t count.” You pause, then add when he opens his mouth, “Neither does Trish.”
His hands lift in surrender. “Fine, you caught me,” he gives up easily. “I just wanted an excuse to visit the cute chick at the local corner store.”
“This corner store is nowhere near your place.” You roll your eyes, lips pressed into a line so they don’t curl upwards. “What do you need this time?”
“A smile.”
You level a flat stare at him.
“…And help tracking down a demon.”
“That’s what I thought,” you sniff, as if you aren’t preening inwardly at the thought of him, professional demon hunter, needing your help.
You ignore the fact that magi are a rare commodity, so to speak, and he really only knows you. Well, technically he knows your mother too, having assisted you in rescuing her months prior, but she would never deign to help him out. So here he is, darkening your doorstep.
You take your wins where you can. There tends not to be a lot of them.