haii!! so liek i actually have no idea if you still write for dmc, so im ssososoossoos sorry if u dont anymore!! bur if you do, can i request dante with a reader thats extremely sweet toothed n loves to bake!! thank yuuu (^з^)-☆
# the smell of sugar wafts in the air when dante gets out of the shower, rubbing his hair with a towel as he walks out into the kitchen to give you a proper greeting.
it’s a little funny to see him, you think; clad with a worn burger t-shirt with a few holes in the sleeves and sweatpants that hang low on his hips. the legendary devil hunter dante attired so lazily makes you crack a smile.
he gives a lopsided grin in your direction. “are those cookies i smell?” you blink up before you glance back down at the oven, the warm light is seen seeping through the racks in warped rays as it projects onto your legs. it’s a nice change compared to the coolness of the hardwood against your feet.
already having an assortment of other pastries on the table, you let your eyes linger a little too long at the brownies you had brought home before focusing back on the task at hand. dante gives an amused hum as he notices.
you give a soft noise in affirmation, the scraping of the whisk against the bowl fills the silence after. dante eyes the silver pot; brown dough peeking out of the top when you whisk a certain way.
“another batch?” he makes his way over with a stifled yawn.
“nero said he wanted some the other day — thought they tasted pretty good.”
he tilts his head back with a soft hand on your shoulder. “i tell you they taste good all the time,” he starts. “i don’t get an extra batch from my sexy baker lover?” he makes sure to purr that last part in as he leans closer, chuckling a bit when you roll your eyes.
“he works pretty hard considering his age,” you tut — and he almost sighs at the way you pull away to grab something out of a nearby drawer. your warmth still lingers in his palms.
“hey, i work hard too.”
“he’s seventeen.”
dante scoffs. “whatever, i’m twenty-nine.” he goes to sit at the table, eyes glued to you as you float around the kitchen from time to time, the dim light causing him to squint. you give him a look.
“i’m just saying,” he puts his hands up. “i could’ve run circles around that kid and more by the time i was his age.”
shaking your head, you nod at the containers at the table. “eat some brownies, dante.”
and as he picks up a small brownie (quick to catch the crumbs that fall because he knows he has to savor every last bit of it), he already anticipates the way it’ll melt on his tongue and he practically salivates. he pops it into his mouth and lolls his head back against the chair with a quiet groan.
you glance at him with a sweet smile as you pour the batter into a small tin. “good?” you ask.
the muffled sigh you get in response is more than enough of an answer. you shake your head with fondness before cursing yourself as you accidentally let some of it slip onto the counter.
dante can’t even hear your mutters as he’s quite literally in heaven. eyes half-lidded, he doesn’t bother to move his head as he just paws blindly at the table until another brownie is found.
even the boring moments are nice with you, he thinks. even while your hairs pinned back, flour on your cheek and a determined look on your face — dante can’t help but tilt his head towards you and see someone who’s worth the world.
𐙚 requests are open — january seventeenth, 2025
𐙚 taglist ; none yet for dmc
