Chapter Text
You were tempting Vergil, and it sickened him.
Your easygoing and friendly nature drew him to you. The way you would laugh joyously, the sound like bells tickling his ears. Your jokes were amusing and shared with everyone including himself, and the way that your smile never faltered even when he would respond with coldness infatuated him. The way you would flaunt your delicious looking body about, teasing him by wearing clothes. Walking past him without a second glance, your scent trailing after you and the way he would trail after your scent. The way your hips swayed as you walked, making him want to grab you and press your hips to his. The way that your lips formed his name. The way that your eyes looked into his. You were a temptress and you didn’t even know. It all sickened him.
Because you did not belong to Vergil.
You were Dante’s mate, his to hold and to kiss and to keep. His to love. Which he did, and often. Dante was devoted and loving to you, more devoted to you than Vergil had seen Dante ever be to anything. He had once confessed to Vergil while intoxicated that you were It for him. You were his soulmate, the only one who saw him for who he was and didn’t once turn away. You saw Dante at his best and you multiplied his joy. You saw Dante at his worst and you stayed by his side, doing your best to make him feel better and keep him alive when he no longer felt able. Dante couldn’t imagine a life without you; or rather, he’d rather not go through life without you. It was a very informative drinking session.
Vergil was nothing to you. At least, nothing more than a potential brother-in-law. That stung. Especially when Vergil developed these feelings the moment he saw you. You had been with Dante, curled into his side, looking at Dante with loving eyes. Vergil knew he wanted to see you stare at him with the same eyes. Badly. He had stayed away, though, not wanting to give any hint of his feelings towards you away. It would be the end of his and Dante’s tenuous truce and possibly Dante’s life if he was serious during their drunken discussion. That didn’t stop him from wanting. That didn’t stop him from imagining you as his. It certainly didn’t stop him from picturing your face moaning his name while he gave you the most extreme pleasure a person could experience. In fact, it was a common fantasy as he spilled into his hand late at night. It was better and worse when he could hear you being pleasured by Dante late into the night, when they had thought he was asleep. He would quietly take himself in hand and pretend it was him drawing the soft moans from your mouth, that it was his name you were gasping, that it was him that you were clenching around as you both reached your climaxes. He felt disgusted with himself afterward, but it never stopped him. Not when he could better imagine having you for hours.
His fantasies were worsening with every moment he spent with you. The more he learned about you, the more he wanted. The more you were kind to him, the more he yearned. The more you learned to love him platonically, the more he learned to love you romantically. He even had a series of daydreams where you and he met before you and Dante met. The you in that daydream knew everything about him and loved him despite his mistakes. He understood his brother in his devotion to you; it was a heady feeling even thinking about someone who’s seen your worst and chooses you. The you in that daydream was enamored with him and would treat him so kindly: comforting when he was saddened, happy when he was happy, and gentle when his nightmares kept him from sleep. That you wanted him as he wanted you: in every way possible. It wasn’t healthy, though, to continually dream about something he could never have.
So he tried. By God he tried. He attempted distancing himself from you, ignoring your attempts to interact with him. Ignoring your kindness, your laughs, your body, your scent, your voice speaking his name, and your eyes trying to catch his. He ignored it all, trying to pretend that you didn’t exist, that you never existed… Even if he still thought of you when giving himself release.
Wasn’t it ironic? He was spurning your friendship to avoid losing it. Yours, and his brother’s. Thankfully for him, you held an apartment elsewhere and were not at the shop 24/7, so Vergil could rest his vigil during your absence. Still, Vergil had to avert attempts by you and his brother to be more sociable while you were there. Eventually it angered Dante. “What is your problem with my girl? Every time she’s here you act like she’s a ghost. She deserves respect.” Dante had scowled at Vergil, slamming a hand on the back of the couch where Vergil was perched.
“I have no issue with your mate, Dante.” Vergil stated as blandly as he could. He did have a problem, in fact, but Dante wouldn’t like to hear that it stemmed from her being in Dante’s arms rather than Vergil’s. “Liar,” Dante snarled. “I’m sick to death of watching the way you treat her. Do you have any idea how upset she is about all this?” Vergil’s ears perked upon hearing that you were upset. You wouldn’t be upset by his treatment if you didn’t have some shred of feeling for him, right? No, that’s a dangerous road to travel. His face stayed neutral betraying nothing of his thoughts.
“I’m not lying, Dante.” Vergil lied. “I simply… Don’t know how to treat her. She is different from the others… She is soft.” Vergil tensed. He had slipped slightly, but thankfully in such a way that distracted Dante. “Yeah, she is soft…” Dante smiled softly, clearly remembering your softness intimately. Vergil felt his stomach heat and twist. Jealousy that Dante knew every inch of your softness and that he didn’t made him sick. He remembered that he had no claim to you, that you belonged to Dante, his brother who he loves. Vergil was once again disgusted with himself and once again was able to maintain his calm exterior. Dante shook his head, reorganizing his thoughts. “That’s no excuse, Vergil. I need you to treat her like a person. I want her to move in with me.”
Move in? She would be around everyday, every moment. She would be the end of Vergil; his own hydrocyanic gas, smelling so sweet while killing him. “Move in? That seems too soon. When did you meet, again?” Vergil was well aware of when they had met, because he had lamented not being there instead of his brother every moment since he met you. Dante rolled his eyes. “It’s not too soon; I’ve been wanting her to move in for forever and the only thing keeping her from doing it is you. She doesn’t want to upset you.” Even more evidence. Perhaps Vergil wasn’t nothing to you? Perhaps he should investigate? To what end though? You would never choose him over Dante. For all that Dante was loyal, you were doubly so. Of course, if you moved in, Vergil could acclimate to your presence and start treating you as the sister-in-law that you were destined to become. Perhaps you moving in would not be a bad idea. “She will not upset me; she never has.” Vergil said softly. Dante perked up, looking as much like an excited puppy as a 43-year-old man could. “So she can move in?! There’s no problem?” Dante asked excitedly. Vergil smiled and nodded. It would be difficult to make the transition, but Vergil was willing to give his hope of having you up if it made his brother this happy.
***
Vergil was right, and he was wrong. Very wrong. Vergil was correct in assuming that smelling your sweetness everyday would be the sweetest torture. He was wrong in thinking that he could ever acclimate enough to where he would stop wanting you.
It wasn’t only your scent that kept killing him slowly. Prior to moving into the shop, you had made sure that when leaving Dante’s room you were adequately clothed. Now, since you live here and therefore made yourself at home, he would often find you in states of undress. Only wearing Dante’s shirt, or if it was hot, shorts and a sports bra. Sometimes you only wore a towel traveling from the bathroom to Dante’s room. Once he caught you trying to surprise Dante by wearing an apron. With nothing under it. That was a difficult day for both of you. You were mortified and kept trying to apologize, face absolutely molten with the heat of your embarrassment and partially hidden by your hands. Vergil, on the other hand, was trying to escape while hiding his very sudden, very painful erection. You hadn’t helped matters by not apologizing later; no, he had to witness your beautiful flushed face begging for forgiveness while still naked under an apron. Eventually he had to break away from you, still whimpering apologies, and rush to his room to take his cock in hand.
The worst day was possibly when, after just waking, he walked into the kitchen intent on breakfast. You were in the room, still rumpled from sleep and you smiled so, so sweetly at him before walking over to embrace him. Vergil’s body froze, heat high in his cheeks and his heart rapidly beating as if rushing to meet your face where you pressed it into his chest. As if trying to let you know how you affected him. You gave a soft sigh, then a frown when he didn’t return your embrace. You looked up, squinting. “Dante? What’s wrong? Your heart is beating so fast.” You pulled away slightly. Oh. You thought he was… He tried not to show that pieces of his heart broke off and fell into his stomach. “I’m not Dante.” He said hoarsely. You jumped away from him – literally jumped! Was he so awful? – and began apologizing. “I am so sorry! I don’t have my contacts in and your hair is down and you’re both so tall and –“
“It’s fine.” Vergil interrupted, leaving the kitchen to make his way to his room where he shut the door softly, leaned against it, and slid down clutching his chest to slow his beating heart. He may have also let loose a few tears for the lost pieces of his heart, but by the time his heart slowed, they were dried and left no evidence.
V ergil tried to keep his distance from you while maintaining civility, but it was hard. Everything that drew him to you, everything that you tempted him with, seemed to multiply tenfold the more time he spent with you. Your smiles toward him became softer, you and he developed inside jokes, but the worst part was that you touched him more frequently. Nothing like he wanted; only soft touches on his arms or on his shoulder, or sometimes a friendly hug. It made him want more. More frequency, more intimacy, more, more, more. You were leading him down a dangerous path unknowingly and he was more than willing to follow.
After weeks of this, weeks of your delicious torture, he couldn’t take it anymore. He was going to leave Devil May Cry and find a place of his own. It was foolishness to think that he could stand being around you and not having you. Vergil knew his strength, but he also knew that even Atlas and Heracles struggled with the burden of the world. He couldn’t bear the weight anymore, and it was time to throw in the towel. Vergil had packed early that evening to leave, carrying only a small duffel bag with his clothes and other small belongings. He left his bedroom furniture; the pieces actually belonged to Dante anyway, but stripped the bedding for his brother’s convenience. He walked down the stairs and was nearly out the door before he heard your soft, “Where are you going, Verge?”
The foolish nickname Dante had minted spoken in your voice rolled along his eardrums, stimulating the nerves pleasantly. He had thought you were asleep, he was planning on leaving while you slept to avoid any parting words. Vergil stood at the door. He should go through, he shouldn’t wait to hear whatever your siren’s voice has to impart. It would be healthy. “I am going to leave. I fear that I am… Intruding upon you and Dante.” None of it a lie; he was imposing on your relationship by harboring the feelings he has toward you. No relationship needed an unnecessary and unwanted third wheel. Even if the third wheel was out of sight.
He heard a gasp, but he refused to turn his back, refused to look at you. He wished that he had when he felt your body press against his back and your arms wrap around his middle. “ I’m sorry, Vergil. I should be the one to go. Please don’t leave.” You let out a soft sob. “You and Dante have worked so hard to get where you are.” He wanted to turn around, he wanted to hold you close, and he wanted to lick every tear you shed away. He didn’t. He settled for gently holding the hands you had clutching the front of his coat with a death grip. “Dante and I will be fine. Do not burden yourself with sadness. This is the natural resolution.” Vergil said. You clutched him tighter, both your arms and the grip you had on his heart. “It’s not! I messed everything up, didn’t I? I made you uncomfortable.” You nuzzled your head against his back when you shook your head. He ignored the sensation of you pressed against him and how pleasant he found it. You were so soft and warm. “Please, at least wait until Dante gets back so he can talk to you.” Dante wasn’t expected back until later. Much later. Vergil wasn’t sure he could last that long without taking a taste of you. “It would be better for me to leave now.” Vergil stated. He meant it as a warning. A warning he either didn’t emphasize enough or you didn’t care.
“Please stay. Talk to Dante. We can fix this.” You begged. Vergil couldn’t say no. He would never be able to say ‘no’ when you begged so sweetly. He pulled your hands away from his body. He was, however, very practiced at refusing his wants. “I need to leave now.” Vergil said, and you gave a cry of dismay. “But I will speak to Dante later. Tell him to call me at Nero’s if he wishes to speak. I will… consider staying depending on the conversation.” You calmed down, still sniffling. “Promise?” You asked, rubbing your face. Vergil smiled. “I vow to you: I will speak to Dante before tomorrow and I will never eat a jalapeño ever again in my life.” You laughed at his reference to one of your inside jokes. “You better.” You playfully punched his back, the impact landing as soft as a butterfly. “Come back soon.” You said softly. Vergil nodded. “Go sleep. You need your rest.” Vergil said, turning his head to meet your eyes. You stood there clad in your short nightgown, your legs and arms on display and tear tracks down your cheeks. Despite that, you had a smile on your face. Vergil wanted so badly to kiss you, but he made his legs lock up until you turned and until you walked up the stairs and into Dante’s bedroom. He let them unlock when he heard your soft breaths slow.
He needed to leave, and it needed to be now. But, like a string that’s exceeded its tensile capacity, his restraint snapped. He had to kiss you. And it needed to be now. He knew that you would never kiss him, he knew that you loved Dante too much, but what you didn’t know wouldn’t hurt you. You’ve already shown that you have difficulty differentiating between the twins when you don’t have your contacts in and his hair is down. He reached a hand up and pushed his hair forward until it hung in his face like his twin brother’s. He started walking up the steps but then thought better of it. Not of his intention to kiss you. No, that train left the station and was hurtling down a doomed track. He thought better of his outfit. You would recognize him immediately by his iconic coat and gaiters. So he took them off along with his vest. He made a short pit-stop in the basement to grab one of Dante’s red shirts. His disguise complete, he went upstairs stuffing his coat and gaiters into the duffel and tossing his duffel to the side. He strode into Dante’s darkened bedroom confidently where he would usually knock. He walked up to your sleeping form where he would usually keep a distance between you, there being nearly none now. He stroked your face, standing at the side of your bed and waking you, and pressed a kiss into your lips where that action would usually only stay in his dreams.
He had intended only a peck, but his body had other ideas. He let out a gasp at the first taste of you and began to desperately kiss you, molding his lips to yours, trying to encourage you to let his tongue in, and nipping your lips when he could. His hand that caressed your face buried itself into your hair, gripping it tight to pull your head to one side so he could deepen the kiss. And deepen it he did. You let out a gasp after one teasing nip and he took advantage. Of course, he was taking advantage this entire time, so this little thing wouldn’t weigh on his conscience. His tongue swept into your mouth, mapping the contours of your mouth and noting where you preferred his tongue by the gasps you breathed into his mouth. Your smell and your taste… This was a mistake because a floodgate of his want was unleashed, saturating his body. He would be hard pressed to stop until he got what he wanted. You needed a breath and he was generous enough to allow you one breath. You weren’t aware of the mistake you were making when you breathed out Dante’s name your voice suffused with your desire.
Vergil gave a soft growl and kissed you again, harder and sloppier. Teeth clacked and saliva dripped between your mouths as he kissed you. You pulled away again, gasping for breath. “Dante, wait… Vergil… Left.” Vergil barely comprehended your words when you breathily said his name in your air starved voice, he was shaking too hard with repressed desire . Even if his heart clenched in pain when you addressed him as Dante. Vergil pressed more chaste kisses to your lips, not leaving any inch unmarked by the invisible stamp of his lips as he thought of what to say, if he even could say anything. He knows his voice is too distinctive to be Dante’s, so talking was out of the question. He could just leave abruptly, but he really wanted to keep kissing you. So that was out of the question. He could… Oh, but that would be low. Really low. So that’s what he did. He would just do what he does best and feel disgusted with himself after the fact. Vergil lowered his face into your neck and started sniffling. You reacted exactly as he thought. “Oh, Dante. I’m sorry. Do you need anything?” Vergil nodded into your neck and started mouthing at your neck softly, careful not to leave a mark. “Oh,” you huffed out a laugh. “You want that .” Vergil felt your hands run through his hair gently and try to pull him further on you. Vergil went willingly, interested to see where you were going with this, and what this ‘that’ meant. Vergil put one knee between your legs, one leg still hanging off the side of the bed and his arms to either side of your waist. He avoided pressing his weight entirely on you. He knew if he felt you against him again he wouldn’t be able to leave after a few more kisses. His hair was hanging in his face and you two were in a dark room, so he wasn’t terribly concerned about you realizing his chicanery. What he was concerned about was the fact that you reached under the duvet you were under and pulled the bottom of your nightgown over your head. Leaving you naked. Under him.
Suddenly he was at a crossroads. If he didn’t stop here, if he didn’t stop now, he would do something irreparable. He would lose your trust in him, wreck your friendship. There is no part of you that he would be able to keep after this. He would ruin his brother. At this point Dante would be able to smell Vergil in his room, on his mate, but not inside her. Dante would forgive him a few kisses with his mate, he knew; his brother forgave him worse atrocities. But he also knew that his brother wouldn’t take kindly to being cucked. But if he stopped here, if he stopped now, he would always wonder what it would have been like to be joined with you. He’s tired of fantasies, he’s tired of holding himself back and he’s not strong enough anymore. Plus, hes always liked the scent of bitter almonds anyway.
He pulled the duvet down to reveal your nakedness. His heart stopped, his breathing stopped, and he’s pretty sure time stopped. Your body was revealed to be a work of art, one beyond the talents of any renaissance sculptor, beyond the ability of any sculptor, actually. His eyes traced your neck, littered with marks he put there and ones he didn’t, he gazed at your perfect breasts, also marked, before traveling downward to the patch of curls that adorned your mons. Vergil was not often a betting man, but he’d bet that his brother left marks all over your body to illustrate who you belonged to; it’s what Vergil would do. You belong to Dante and Vergil was playing at being Dante right now. So for this night, and only this night, you would belong to him. Vergil followed the paths his brother left, biting and sucking marks into your skin to the tune of your moans and gasps with each bruise and bitemark. He left his marks next to his brother’s, close enough that if looked at, Dante would only think that he had left larger marks than he had thought. Vergil would know though. Vergil didn’t want to add insult to injury when Dante discovered his indiscretion, but he wanted you to have some part of him linger. Other than the soreness he was intent on leaving you with, that is. He felt like a shadow of his brother, trailing in the footsteps his brother made. But if he couldn’t be corporeal, he would solidify this night as the best night you ever spent with ‘Dante’.
“You’re wearing too much…” You whispered, panting and pulling at his shirt. Vergil nearly tore his clothes in his haste to remove them. He hovered above you, cataloging your appearance: your hair was mussed and your lips swollen and reddened from his kisses, and you had marks absolutely littering your entire body. You looked wrecked and he had barely done anything yet. That would change. Since he only had one night, he would take his time, fulfill as many fantasies as he could. He wanted to know how you taste.
Vergil kissed down your body, your hands trailing his shoulders to tangle in his hair as he made himself as comfortable as he could between your legs with a throbbing, leaking erection. His arms snuck under your thighs and his hands folded themselves over your hips. He pressed a kiss to the curls decorating the apex of your thighs. He then began. His first impression of your taste was ‘delicious’, then it was ‘amazing’, then it was ‘addicting’. He could live between your legs for the rest of his life. You stimulated every sense: your hands gripped his hair, pulling when he licked and slurped somewhere you liked, your smell and taste the most delicious perfume and drink. Your moans and gasps like the sweetest music. He worked his mouth against you to the best of his abilities, flicking your clit with fast kitten licks, suckling hard at your folds, and tongue-fucking your entrance. He gripped your hips hard when you rolled them into his face, he knew he left bruises, and he pulled you closer to his mouth. He lapped at you like a starving man, desperately pressing kisses and bites into the soft skin of your thighs when you needed a break to breathe. Once you caught your breath, he didn’t allow you to catch another. He pressed you into the mattress and he latched onto your firm little bud. He sucked as hard and as long as he could until your moans turned to overstimulated sobs. He rutted into the mattress at the same pace as his tongue, nearly coming when you did. Your release drenched his chin and he regretted not having his mouth at your entrance for it to have squirted into his mouth. He would simply settle for licking every inch of your beautiful pussy clean. He was known for being thorough, so he was: licking broad stripes up your pussy and gathering your cum on his tongue, rolling it around in his mouth as if he were savoring the finest wine before swallowing. A pale comparison, he found, because you tasted like the sweetest ambrosia.
He sat up, hair askew and slightly dazed from how little blood was in his head and how much was currently occupying his purpling cock. He looked at you and was very close to cumming. Your face to your chest was flushed and heaving. Your legs and abdomen were shaking and the rest of your body quivering from the pleasure he’d given you. Him. Not Dante. He wished he could talk without giving himself away. He would ask you if you wanted more, if you would be a good girl and take what he gave you. He’d ask if you wanted him to stay down there until he heard you beg for his cock. He would oblige you; he always would. He might also ask if it was better than you’d had before. “Dante… that was…” You gulped down breaths between words. “Amazing.” You sat up slightly and reached for Vergil’s cock. He let you take hold of his erection and hissed when you tugged up and down. “Dante, you’re so hard. Aren’t you in pain?” You were so kind, even in this. Vergil’s eyes felt watery as he took your other hand and pressed it to his face so you could feel him nodding in the dark room. It was painful, but he was used to it. Every time he thought of you, he would become this hard. You made him this hard. You ‘tsk’ed’ and leaned in to press a kiss to his lips. “Poor thing.” You said sadly. “Let’s make that better, hm?” You purred. You kissed down his lean chest, pausing a moment. “Did you shave your chest hair? You’re so smooth.” Vergil panicked a moment.
Then you shrugged and continued down. “It’s not bad, it’s just… Different. I like your chest hair better though, so if you did it for me, don’t.” Another pinch to his heart since you were unknowingly comparing them. An unfair contest, though since Vergil couldn’t grow chest hair. Vergil leaned back a little more moaning softly as you sat between his legs, still stroking his cock in slow, hard pumps. He couldn’t hold his thrust back when you swirled the head of his cock to spread the pre-cum. Not totally necessary since his cock started leaking the moment he entered your bedroom. There was a small puddle forming under him from how much he was producing. Your hand smoothly traveled the base of his cock to the head with ease. “Jeez, Dante. This is… A lot. Don’t let it get this bad next time, OK? You know I’m always here for you.” Vergil huffed out a laugh, softly enough that he was certain you wouldn’t be able to discern he wasn’t Dante. This much pre-cum wasn’t normal? At least not for Dante, apparently. It was normal for him the moment he met you. Your words were amusing, but painful. He would never be able to go to you for help in fixing this problem you caused. Vergil jumped the moment you put your mouth on the head of his cock. He reined himself in; he wouldn’t forgive himself for hurting you. The next time you put your mouth on him, he twitched, but did not move otherwise. You were satisfied with that and swirled your tongue into the slit and around to the corona. Vergil was wrong. Knowing you and never having you was not the sweetest torture. This was. Knowing the pleasure of your mouth and knowing this would be the only time was far worse, having tasted heaven and then being barred from it. He would have to enjoy it while it lasts.
You licked his shaft, gathering the pre-cum with a soft moan. “You taste different from usual, D. Not as sweet. Once again, not bad.” You took him into your mouth again and started sliding down his cock until he reached the back of your throat. Vergil breathed choked gasps and placed one hand gently atop your head and tangled it into your hair, pulling a moan from your mouth, vibrating his cock. Your throat was so warm and wet. There was no way he could last. After you had risen and went back down a few times, he couldn’t hold back any longer and spilled down your throat, his hand holding you down to swallow it all. If you were concerned about the pre-cum, you would be more concerned about the amount of cum he spilled. The sheer quantity of cum dribbled down your throat, choking you and filling your mouth until you had no choice but to spit some out otherwise risk asphyxiation. Vergil panted, still holding himself with one shaking arm. The other hand removed itself from your hair and stroked your cum splattered face lovingly. He cupped your face and ran his thumb along your lip. His heart warmed when you nuzzled into his hand. “Better, baby?” You asked, your voice hoarse from sucking him sloppy. Vergil had no other way of putting it: you both were covered in sweat, your face was covered in cum and so was his cock and lap from the amount you couldn’t swallow. You both looked sloppy. You hadn’t looked more beautiful to him. He grabbed your face and pulled you to him to kiss you desperately, licking his cum off your face to share it with your tongue. Much to his pleasure, you responded enthusiastically. No, it wasn’t better. His cock was still hard, less painfully, but still red and swollen. He let you go to breathe, which you did in pants, struggling to regain the breaths he stole from you. His taste on his lips, though tempered by yours, wasn’t terribly pleasant. He decided he needed another taste of you. He pushed you down and started traveling down your body again, excited about sampling his favorite meal once again. Only to be stopped by your hand in his hair and tugging him up.
“Dante, please, I need you inside me…” You sobbed. He mentally replaced Dante’s name with his and shuddered in pleasure. You were begging for his cock. Almost what he wanted; he would prefer to have you say that you love him, but he’d take what he could get. He went back up your body, hips slotting between yours, which you wrapped your legs around the moment he was settled. He grasped his throbbing meat wand and ran it through your folds, gathering the slick you developed during sucking his dick. He pressed a kiss to your neck as he guided him to your entrance where he pressed in slowly, inch by inch. He stopped when he heard your whines, but was encouraged when you used your feet to give light kicks to his buttocks to spur him on. A real cowgirl, he thought. He kept going until he bottomed out, sweat dotting his brow. You felt perfect around him, so hot and tight. “S-So long, Dante. You feel so good.” You gasped, your nails leaving crescents in the skin of his back. He grunted and slowly pulled out and snap back in. Your long moan was all the affirmation to move he needed. He snapped his hips in and out of you at a rapid pace, not allowing you a moment to breathe. He was prioritizing his pleasure now since he wouldn’t get this again. He came after only a few minutes of his rapid pace, his cock spurting inside you and filling you with cum, some leaking out. He was still hard though and you hadn’t cum. He turned you both to your sides staying inside you and pulling up one of your legs pressing your back to his front, panting, as he reached down to rub circles into your clit and start a slow, deep pace. He rested his face into your neck, leaving even more marks in your skin. You had started fondling your breasts, pulling and pinching at the hard buds, little mewls falling from your parted lips and your eyes screwed shut in ecstasy. This time he came with you clenching around him and gasping praises. Almost, he was almost satisfied.
He flipped you onto your stomach and pressed in again, this angle even deeper than before. He didn’t wait for you to recover before his cock was back inside you. This time he alternated his pace, when you were close, he would slow, and when you were feeling too stimulated to cum he would quicken his pace. He loves you, but you needed to be punished for tormenting him for so long. And what sweeter punishment is there than this? He took pity when he heard your soft sobs and pleading. “Please, Dante, stop teasing me… Let me cum…” He wrapped a hand around your neck, squeezing lightly to continue your punishment and reached a hand between your legs to your abused clit. His hips slammed into your pussy hard, his balls slapping your ass and folds as he bit your trapezoid muscle and came deep inside you with you clenching around him. Once more he changed your position.
This was it, the final time, and he wanted to see you. He guided you to your back. “Dante please, I can’t take much more.” You pleaded. He clutched your face in his hands and slowly and gently kissed you. You threw your arms around his neck and kissed him back desperately. He didn’t fall into your pace and continued his gentle, sweet kisses. Eventually you calmed down enough to sweetly kiss him back. Like you loved him. He had thought the kisses you two shared when your tongues were caressing each other and your teeth were biting each others lips was excellent. This kissing was perfect. He guided himself back inside you and set the pace slow. You groaned, overstimulated, but still indulging him. Vergil didn’t stop kissing you, not when you needed to breathe, not when you demanded a faster pace, and not when you came around his cock again and again. “Cum, please, baby, please, please, please.” You cried scratching his back harshly as you got closer to your climax, the pain felt amazing in his pleasure hazy state and his pace increased. He reached down to your poor swollen clit and rubbed you into climax again. He was right behind you, his balls clenching into his body to pour the last of his essence into you.
He laid on top of you and you started rubbing soothing circles into his back. “That was amazing,” you murmured sleepily and pressed a kiss into his cheek. “I love you, Dante.” You said with so much adoration in your voice. You pulled him to his side and cuddled close to him, pressing your face into his neck, giving a soft, contented sigh, and then falling asleep. His hands crept under your body and he clutched you to him. His eyes were moist, but he kept his tears from falling. His time was up, the spell was broken and it was past midnight. He couldn’t have this; he couldn’t have you. You belonged to Dante. It was past time for him to leave. He gingerly extricated himself from your hold, gathered and put on his clothes including the borrowed shirt. He made sure you were covered up and warm before leaving, pressing a kiss into your forehead. “I love you.” He whispered to your sleeping form.
Vergil grabbed his duffel bag tossed aside in the hallway and made his way down the stairs. He was almost at the door when he heard the distinct sound of boots being lowered from Dante’s desk to the floor. Vergil felt cold sweats dot his body as he turned to see his twin brother sitting in his chair, leaning slightly back and arms crossed, but smiling his trademark carefree smile. Vergil gulped. He needed to play it cool. See what Dante knew before jumping to conclusions. “Dante, you’ve returned. When did you arrive?” Vergil asked in as normal a tone as he could manage. Dante smirked. “I came inside when you did.”
Vergil felt sick. He knew Dante would find out what he did, but he didn’t want to be there when he did. He suppressed his brotherly antagonistic urge to ask, ‘which time’. This was absolutely not the time for that. No, this time Vergil fucked up beyond belief. He considered prostrating himself before Dante to beg for forgiveness. Or he’d try a verbal apology first. “Dante, I’m sorry.” Vergil gasped out.
Dante stood up and walked towards Vergil still wearing his trademark smile, his footsteps menacing as they tapped their way across the hardwood floors. Dante stood beside his brother, placing a hand on Vergil’s shoulder. Vergil’s heart dropped into his gut. “Nothing happened, Verge, so why are you sorry?” Dante side-eyed his brother. Could Vergil be so lucky? Could Dante be so forgiving? “Thank –“
“What happened,” Dante interrupted, “is that I came home, I made love to my mate and then we both fell asleep.” His hand gripped Vergil’s shoulder tighter, becoming painful. “And anything that happens after I made love to her, anything that results in that lovemaking, is mine. You will have no claim. Not to her, not to anything. If you try it, if you fucking try anything, I will end you. Understood?” Vergil understood. Dante was offering an olive branch of sorts. Dante would forgive and forget. Vergil would retain his brotherhood, cracked as it was, with Dante. You would never have to know, so you and he could remain friends if Dante would allow it. He could still have you in some way. Any way was better than nothing, Vergil was coming to realize. And if Vergil impregnated you during this, he gave up any claim to his child. His child with you. A barbed olive branch.
Vergil gulped and nodded. Dante grinned. “Glad we understand each other.”
***
You and Dante had gathered everyone in Devil May Cry for an announcement about two months after Vergil and Dante struck that accord. Blue and pink banners ran across the shop with a large banner folded up in the middle. Vergil, Nero, Nico, Lady, Trish, Patty, and Morrison milled about in the lobby, waiting for you and Dante to proceed with the big announcement. You and Dante walked downstairs, Dante hovering close to you protectively, one hand on your lower back and one hand holding yours as you both descended. Vergil’s gut clenched painfully when he saw one of your hands curled around your stomach. “Ready, babe?” Dante asked, looking down at you, the adoration on his face as apparent as ever, if anything his feelings for you looked stronger. You grinned up at him, “Ready.” You and Dante did something and the banner unfurled with a spray of rose petals. The banner had large bold letters on it and read: ‘We’re Pregnant!’
Vergil felt sick. His ears ringing as loud applause and cheers ripped through the shop. ‘Congratulations’ were issued forth by everyone save one person and discussions of gender and names started immediately. You fielded them gracefully, you did everything gracefully in Vergil’s opinion, and laughed with your friends and family. Dante smiled at his friends and you as you had your discussion s . Dante’s smile turned brittle and his eyes turned flinty when they landed on Vergil. Dante, despite his reputation for taunting, wasn’t one to twist the knife. He didn’t mention Vergil’s lack of felicitations, and he didn’t remind Vergil of their agreement. He merely turned back to his mate and the conversation.
“I’m thinking Eva if it’s a girl,” you smiled up at Dante. “Anthony if it’s a boy.” Dante’s eyes sparkled with unshed tears as he bent to kiss you gently while holding your face as if you were the most precious treasure. Vergil’s eyes felt moist. Of course you would pick the perfect name. You were perfect to him, so it makes sense you would choose names he would find perfect. He knew his thoughts weren’t healthy, but he rarely did anything healthy nowadays. Not after he left the shop that night and started living with Nero, still dreaming about the only night he’d ever spend with you. He started taking on too much work to try and avoid fielding questions from Nero, and to avoid visits from you and Dante. Vergil had suspected that you were pregnant when your scent had changed. He had been on a job two weeks after he moved out. You made the lengthy trip to Fortuna to see how he was doing, so he had made sure he wasn’t there. When he returned, your scent flooded his senses, slightly altered, and he knew. He came though, because he needed to see you. Because he wanted to be there for Dante. Because at least one of his children deserved to have him from the start. He couldn’t help himself though, when could he ever? He pictured himself next to you, kissing you, and holding your slightly swollen stomach and anticipating the addition to his family. His chest hurt. He was reminded of the sensation that overwhelmed his body when he chose to split himself with the Yamato, the sensation of dying. This was worse. This was living.
N ero walked up to Vergil. “You OK, old man? You’re lookin’ a little peaked.” Vergil looked at his son, his only child. The only child he would ever have. For some reason, it hurt more knowing that Nero was his last. It hurt knowing that he missed out on Nero’s everything and that his – Dante’s child would grow up with Vergil on the periphery, in the background. Almost like he isn’t even there. Truly Dante’s shadow this time.
Vergil swallowed, his mouth dry. “I’m fine, Nero. Just… Overwhelmed.” Nero huffed and nodded. “I know, right? Didn’t expect to have another member of the family so soon. Well, I guess for me it all seems really soon since I just found out about you guys a little while ago. S’gonna be nice to have a little cousin, though. I can teach them to help me deal with you two giant asshats.” Nero grinned and scratched his nose looking away. Once again, Vergil couldn’t help his imagination; how would Nero react to having a little sibling? He would be ecstatic, Vergil knew. A more direct addition to his family, one that he would have more of a claim on. Vergil cut that line of thought short. He had to respond. “I’m sure you’ll teach them well.” Vergil smiled as naturally as he could. Nero grinned again and clapped him on the back. Vergil reached out and gave his son a side-hug and pressed a kiss into his hair. Nero looked at his father shocked. “What was that for?” Nero grumbled rubbing his hair and face looking pink . It was for being a good child caring about his deadbeat father, it was for saving Vergil time and time again, it was for being Vergil’s and only Vergil’s . Vergil couldn’t express that. Not without more questions, so it was a good thing he was adept at burying his feelings.
“Just because.” Vergil said with a soft smile. His gaze went back to you, glowing and radiant with happiness and his mind kept torturing him with ‘what if, what if, what if’. He made his way to Dante. “Congratulations, Dante.”
Dante gave his brother a long look. He also shifted you out of Vergil’s sight. That wasn’t necessary. Vergil had resigned himself to only having you in dreams. “Thanks, Verge. Means a lot to me to hear that from you.” He gave Vergil his trademark smile. Vergil gave a strained smile back. “If you need anything for the little one, I’ll always be willing to assist.” Vergil offered. Please agree, please let him into the baby’s life in any capacity. Dante shook his head and Vergil’s heart broke just a little more. “Won’t be necessary, I’ve got it handled. Thanks though.” Finally you noticed Vergil. You gave him a broad smile and ducked around Dante to throw your arms around Vergil’s middle. Dante’s smile disappeared and in its place was a very neutral look. “Verge! I missed you!” You looked up at him with an adorable frown. “Why aren’t you ever around when I come visit?” You pouted. He wanted to kiss that precious pout away. He didn’t. He didn’t wrap his arms around you nor did he smile back at you. “I’m sorry. I’ve been busy. Demons don’t sleep, you know.” He said softly. You frowned, pulling away. “Yeah, but every time? I’m starting to think you’re avoiding me.” Your voice softened considerably. “Dante told me about when you left. I’m sorry that I stopped you. I wish you had told me straight though!” You muttered indignantly, face flushed slightly. Vergil wasn’t sure what Dante told you about his sudden departure, so he looked to Dante for an explanation . Dante looked uncomfortable and scratched the back of his neck. “I told her about your lady friends and about how you, uh, didn’t feel comfortable bringing them over.” Dante was devious. Dante knew that there were no others, that there would never be any others for him. Only you. Vergil gave him credit. He created an excuse that simultaneously explained why he left, why he did so abruptly, and made you think of him as some womanizing cad. Vergil couldn’t fault him though, not when he was merely protecting what was his. Vergil had done worse for the same goal. He couldn’t in this situation though. Dante was his dearest brother. “Yes,” Vergil said, straight-faced. “My lady friends. Who I take home to my son’s home.” You made a face at him t hen shook your head, smiling. “It’s been good to see you, Verge. Don’t be a stranger.” You smiled at him, pulling away. He traced your arm as you pulled it away, his hand grazing yours and his thumb grazing your knuckles as you took it from his body. You didn’t look back and he couldn’t look away as you went to celebrate with your friends. Dante stood next to his brother, watching the longing on Vergil’s face as his eyes followed you. “Don’t even think about it, Verge. Once was enough. Once was almost too much.” Dante warned. Vergil wanted to laugh. It was all he could think about. If he stopped, he feared he would be unable to think anymore at all. He couldn't live like this anymore , nobody could.
“I’m not going to try anything, Dante.” Vergil said. “I learned my lesson…” The one night he shared with you cost him much. “Thank you for inviting me. I look forward to meeting a new member of the family.” Vergil turned and gave his twin a hug, which Dante returned. “Thank you for forgiving me. Thank you for still letting me be in your life.” Vergil whispered and ducked his head. Dante’s grip tightened and Vergil heard him sniffle. “You hurt me, Verge.” Dante whispered. Vergil added one more sin to his lengthy pile. “I’m sorry, Dante. For so many things, past and future.” Dante hid his head in Vergil’s shoulder. Thankfully everyone else was preoccupied with baby discussions. “S’okay.” Dante lifted his head. Eyes suspiciously red. He gave Vergil a grin. “I think I spoke too quickly. We’re new parents, so we’re gonna need all the help we can get. Your offer still good?” Vergil gently smiled at his baby brother. He could hear Dante’s double meaning in his words. Dante was offering another olive branch, this one cleared of all thorns. He was offering to let Vergil help parent his child. Vergil nodded. Vergil made his goodbyes, his heart feeling lighter than it had in a long time. He gave Nero a tight hug goodbye and another kiss atop his head to Nero’s feigned irritation and stepped out of Devil May Cry.
He had no intention of coming back.