#pluhhh

[yo-ri-su-ki]

Hello! Can you write Dante and the reader eating pizza and talking about about random things on a rainy night, please?

Hi!!! Yes ofc!!! Word count! 1,387

Pizza and rain make a good combo Dante Sparda x gn reader★

An: Hi this one was fun to write, they fall asleep at the end :3

The rain had been falling for hours, turning the streets into glistening rivers of neon reflection. Thunder rolled softly in the distance, more a companion than a threat. Inside Devil May Cry, the mood was lazy, warm, and just a bit greasy, thanks to the pizza box sitting between you and Dante on the old wooden desk. Dante sat back in his chair, boots propped up, a slice of pepperoni pizza dangling from his hand. He was in one of his rare peaceful moods, no demons to chase, no clients yelling about haunted bathrooms or cursed cats.

"You ever think about how weird pineapple on pizza is?" he said between bites, eyes half-lidded but sharp as ever. You smirked, taking a slice for yourself. "It’s not that weird. Sweet and salty is a classic combo. Besides, you’ve eaten demon liver stew before. You don’t get to judge." Dante barked a laugh. "Fair point. That stuff did have a kick though. Missed that part of hell cuisine."

Outside, the rain tapped against the windows, steady and rhythmic. The jukebox in the corner hummed a bluesy tune no one bothered to change. The shop smelled like old wood, motor oil, and oregano. "You know," he said, staring at the ceiling, "sometimes I wonder what it’d be like to live a normal life. Nine to five. Commute. Maybe yell at a printer or two." You raised an eyebrow. "You? Normal? I’d give it a week before you picked a fight with your boss or drove your motorcycle into HR."

He snorted, a slice halfway to his mouth. "Okay, yeah. That sounds about right." A long pause followed. Not awkward, comfortable. You both watched the rain paint lazy streaks down the glass.

"You ever get lonely here?" you asked softly.

Dante glanced over, a shadow of something more serious crossing his features. "Sometimes. But then someone like you shows up, eats my pizza, makes fun of my taste in toppings, and suddenly it's not so bad."

You grinned, nudging his foot off the desk with your own. "You're welcome, demon boy."

"Anytime, pizza thief."

The two of you sat in the glow of flickering neon and shared silence, broken only by laughter, lightning, and the occasional argument about which pizza topping reigned supreme. And in that moment. So far from hell and just close enough to something like peace, everything felt right. The thunder was booming outside, the sound of raindrops hitting the ground and the windows echoed throughout Devil May Cry

Dante barely looked up from his spot on the old, cracked leather couch. “I take it the weather’s my fault again?” You shook your head of and took off your coat and flung it somewhere behind you. “Considering you attract chaos like a magnet, I wouldn’t rule it out.”

you stared at him, Before grabbing another slice. Pepperoni and extra cheese, not your usual pick, but the warmth made your fingers tingle, and the smell made your stomach growl. Outside, the storm picked up pace. Thunder rumbled like a lazy dragon rolling over.

“I missed this,” you said between bites.

Dante leaned back, arms stretched out along the top of the couch. “Rainy nights? Or my charming company?”

You gave him a look. “Both. But mostly the pizza.”

He chuckled, tilting his head just enough to make his silver hair fall into his eyes. “Glad to know where I stand. I might cry later, but it’s fine.”

(You know what else may cry, Dante?)

The room was cozy despite the storm outside. The desk lamp cast a warm yellow glow across the cluttered space, highlighting stacks of old case files, a few forgotten weapons, and a half-drunk bottle of bourbon next to the pizza box. The jukebox played something bluesy in the background. Dante’s taste, obviously.

“Ever think about what you'd be doing if you weren’t slicing demons in half for a living?” you asked, licking cheese off your fingers. Dante snorted. “Probably running a bar somewhere. Or sleeping under a bridge. Hard to say.”

“A bar, huh?” You pictured it. “Let me guess, called ‘Hell’s Happy Hour’?” you both stared at eachother before Dante spoke up. “Not bad,” he said, eyes gleaming. “Two-drink minimum, and your soul’s collateral.”

You both laughed, and the sound mingled with the patter of rain and a low growl of thunder. For a while, you ate in silence, the kind that only existed between two people who didn’t feel the need to fill every moment with noise. The storm outside howled, but inside Devil May Cry, it felt safe.

Dante eventually stood, stretching his arms above his head and letting out a yawn. His red coat draped over the back of a chair, he was in his black shirt and jeans, more relaxed than you'd seen him in weeks.

He walked over to the window, staring out at the rain. “Y’know, I used to hate nights like this. Too many memories. But lately...” He glanced back at you, something softer in his voice. “They’re not so bad.” You joined him at the window, watching cars leave streaks of light as they passed. The world looked far away from in here...like you were inside some old noir movie, the kind with cigarette smoke and secrets whispered over whiskey.

“You’ve got a good thing going,” you said quietly.

Dante didn’t reply right away. He just nodded, tapping his fingers against the windowsill. “It’s a weird life. But sometimes... sometimes it feels almost normal. When there’s pizza. And company.”

You leaned your shoulder into his just slightly. “Yeah. Almost.” He turned toward you, his smirk more genuine than usual. “You sticking around tonight? Couch is open. You can fight Lady for it later.”

“Only if you let me pick the movie this time.” Dante groaned dramatically. “No more rom-coms. I’m begging you.”

You grinned. “No promises.”

The storm raged on, but inside, there was laughter, warmth, and leftover pizza. Maybe the world was a mess outside those doors, but in here, it was just two people, a good slice, and a devil who knew how to make the rain feel like music.

The pizza box was half-empty, tilted sideways on the desk next to a pair of empty beer bottles and the remnants of laughter. The rain had softened into a steady rhythm, like a lullaby tapped out by gentle fingers against the windows. The air inside Devil May Cry felt heavier now, not in a bad way. Just… slow. Safe.

Dante slumped back into the couch, one arm hanging loosely over the edge, the other tucked behind his head. His eyes were half-lidded, the usual fire in them dimmed down to glowing embers.

You kicked off your shoes and claimed the far end of the couch, legs curled under you, a blanket you’d found half-folded in the corner now draped over your lap. The movie flickered on the dusty TV. A cheesy action film with too many explosions and not enough plot, but it barely mattered. “I told you this movie was garbage,” you muttered through a yawn. Dante made a vague grunt, not even opening his eyes. “Exactly why it’s perfect. No thinking required.”

The two of you sat like that for a while watching, not watching, listening to the movie and the rain and each other’s breathing. Your head slowly tilted, muscles relaxing. Every sound blurred together into something soft. The storm outside had become white noise, and your eyes fluttered shut before you could even catch it happening. You barely noticed when Dante shifted. At some point, you leaned sideways, and your shoulder bumped his. Instead of moving away, he tilted just slightly toward you, letting you rest against him. You weren’t sure if he noticed...or if he was asleep himself. But you felt his warmth, the quiet rhythm of his breathing, steady like a heartbeat.

The last thing you heard was his voice, barely more than a mumble

“…Glad you’re here.”

Maybe you replied. Maybe you didn’t. It didn’t matter. The couch creaked softly under your weight, the storm whispered on, and the night wrapped itself around you both like a blanket. No demons. No chaos. No past to run from or future to chase. Just you, Dante, and a quiet night in the one place where everything finally felt still.

An: I must confess that I feel like a monster (don't hate me because I reuse the same borders, I don't wanna look for new ones)

Made by @yo-ri-su-ki, do not copy or translate my work! Reposts and likes appreciated!!

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