And then, there was a glowing blue sword through Dante’s head. How it did not penetrate through his entire skull was...surprising.
But V would never say that it was impressive.
“Shut your mouth.” Vergil spat venomously.
“The boy has been to the tree a lot lately.” V continued to explain. “Perhaps it is time you told him.”
Dante snorted and coughed through the blood spurting from his mouth and nostrils as the blade vanished. Vergil threw a towel, already the same color as Dante’s coat, into Dante’s face.
V and Vergil shared a similar expression of disgust as a few droplets hit the wooden floor. Despite a successful separation, most of their tastes seemed to remain in line with one another’s. Especially the disdain for seeing Dante spill his blood all over the old victorian flooring of the office--one that had more historical value than the younger son of Sparda could care less about.
V struck the mop leaning against the wall in the corner with his cane, sending it upward, before Vergil caught it in his hand; who then shoved it through Dante’s palm...literally.
“Vergil.” V insisted, seeing as neither brother was answering.
Dante howled in pain.
“I have no memory of such a thing.” Vergil replied, wrapping his hand around Dante’s palm, mopping Dante’s blood off the floor together.
“Ow, ow, ow, Verg!” Dante protested. “It was a joke--OW!”
V raised a brow. It was a shame that his share of memories did not include Nero’s mother. Though he was not certain the boy was troubled by not knowing, it would be nice to see him doing something other than flying over to Red Grave for a visit to his Grandmother’s grave as of late. The only reason V even bothered making the trip from Fortuna to Dante’s office in the first place was because even dear Kyrie was beginning to wonder where her lover was on such days.
“Nero is there now.” V continued, finishing with a turn towards the door to leave. “I do not enjoy seeing our dear princess troubled.”
Vergil watched as the young man left, vaguely recalling the bits of pieces of knowledge he had gained when the man had been completely part of him. He frowned deeper, finally letting Dante’s hand go.
Dante groaned, yanking the mop out of his palm and finally starting to properly mop the floor. “Ahh, you old sour-devil. Can’t we just tell them?”
Vergil’s eyes widened for a moment.
Dante ducked, narrowly missing having his head removed from his shoulders. He might have also wet himself--though it did seem a little too slick to be piss.
Nero looked up when he felt the hand on his shoulder, firm but gentle, wiry fingers unmistakable.
“It is getting rather cold.” V removed his hand slowly. “Uf-!”
He stumbled forward when Nero’s fingers closed around his retreating palm, and pulled. Rough, chapped lips pressed against his own and V felt his knee buckle into Nero’s thigh--the comforting suge of demonic energy soothed some of the aches and pains that came from the slight bruising of Nero’s rough scramble to hold him.
Finally, V tapped against Nero’s shoulder with his cane, arms still wrapped around the quarter devil. “...mm...Nero…”
“How far did Griffon have to fly here?” Nero asked, concerned.
“We took our time to rest along the way.” V reassured. “I did not want to alarm anyone at homeif I had asked Nico for assistance. This is a long way away to be. Miss Kyrie is bothered enough by your escapades.”
“Is she?” Nero asked, in shock. “Shit.”
He got up, bringing V to his feet as well and they released each other from the embrace. Nero looked at his feet in guilt.
“I didn’t realize--have I really been coming here that often?” He asked, scratching the back of his head.
“At least three times a week now. But this is the first time you have lingered this long.” V clarified, stepping forward to tip Nero’s chin up with a finger. “Come now, let us away.”
“Yeah…” Nero nodded, before giving V a half-smile that looked like both Dante and Vergil’s at the same time. “Thanks, V.”
V withdrew, smiling. He nodded at the grave, which had barely been a mound, now given a proper stone, decorated with flowers and wreaths, and little gifts. Here, in this pocket of Vergil’s and now, Dante’s shared power, it was protected from storm and wind and even the effects of time, until the day the brother’s would eventually expire from age.
“Thanks for having me over, Grandma!” Nero grinned, having turned to say his goodbye. He fished out a white lily from the inside of his coat, before weaving it into the growing collection on braided lilies on the tombstone.
“I’ll be back soon.” He promised, standing up.
V was about to summon Griffon when Nero sept him up into his arms. “Nero!”
“Sorry, did I scare you. Come on, I’ll get us both home.” Nero chuckled; before V could protest, he’d taken off, phasing through the barrier Dante and Vergil had set up, and towards the sky.
“Nero!” V gasped, thin arms wrapped tightly around Nero’s shoulders and neck.
“I won’t drop you.” Nero comforted, turning his head to nuzzle the crook of V’s neck.
Kyrie padded Nero’s handkerchief against her neck, the cold sweet seeming to only return tenfold each time she dabbed it away.
“I don’t think he’s mad or anything.” Nico said, peeking from around the door with her. “I think he just looks like that.”
“Are you sure? I hope he’s okay with just water...m-maybe he’d prefer something else?” Kyrie whispered back.
Vergil turned to look at the doorway where both girls were peering at him. “Thank you, for the water.”
Kyrie swallowed a yelp, before stepping out into the room. Nico quickly went to occupy herself with keeping the kids away from the room and the grouchy-faced man inside.
“Uhm...Mister Vergil?” Kyrie began slowly. “I’m very sorry but, Nero isn’t usually gone this late. If you’d like...I can prepare an extra bed…”
“No need.” Vergil replied quickly.
Kyrie flinched at his abrupt answer. “O-oh...I see.”
“I will be gone once our business is finished.” Vergil explained.
Despite his kurt reply, Vergil really was trying (in his own way) not to be a nuisance longer than he had to be. He had no business interrupting the peaceful lives of Nero’s new family, afterall. The fact that he had so thoughtlessly come here in a hurry was foolish. Perhaps he had spent too long with Dante.
Kyrie’s voice interrupted Vergil’s brooding.
“I don’t know what he’s done to upset you--I mean, you do seem rather upset…” Kyrie continued, stepping towards the incredibly intimidating man. “But--!”
She knelt, placing her hand on Vergil’s, who looked at her in surprise.
“Nero’s a good person. I know if he upset you or hurt you in any way, I”m sure he didn’t mean to. So please, if you’re here to pick a fight with him…!”
This time, Kyrie was interrupted.
“Ah, you are…” Vergil realized. “...I see.”
Much to her shock, Kyrie saw the man smiling. It was a pleasant smile, free of the concern that had already cut lines of age into the man’s forehead, and caused deep crows feet of weariness under his eyes. He looked younger, free. Something about the smile was natural, though unintentional.
“Thank you for taking care of my son.” Vergil said, taking Kyrie’s hand. “Please. Come sit.”
Kyrie quickly got to her feet, brushing off her skirt from kneeling on the floor (which, she herself always kept clean) and taking a seat next to Vergil on their modest sofa. She stared at him, completely speechless at the fact that this man was...technically, her father-in-law. She had heard stories from her brother when they were young, about the son of Sparda having come to Fortuna after hearing of their church.
The stories told of an incredible, terrible demon, every bit as magnanimous as the great Sparda himself...this, had been that man. This was the son of Sparda who had ventured here so many many years ago...
“I will wait for my son here.” Vergil stated, the smile having faded to a mere tug at the corner of his lips. “We have family matters to discuss. And it seems, that there will be more family matters to discuss afterward, Miss Kyrie?”
Kyrie grew flustered, “Uh-why...yes! Oh! No, I mean--!”
“Kyrie!” Nero barged in from the garage, having heard from Nico that Vergil was there.
“Nero.” Vergil calmly addressed, looking up from where he sat.
“Oh, Nero!” Kyrie beamed, jumping up to embrace him. “Nero, you didn’t tell me your father was--he...oh Nero!”
“Woah?!” Nero hugged her back, his alarm turning into confusion. He had thought that his father had perhaps come over to bring trouble--as heartbreaking as that would be in any normal circumstance...it was family business for them at this point.
“Welcome home.” Kyrie said, kissing Nero on the cheek. “I’ll let you two have your talk, ok? Tell me if you need anything! Oh, Mister V! Perfect timing! I need help with dinner.”
V smiled and nodded at Vergil from the doorway, before taking Kyrie’s hand as she let go of Nero and kissing it. “It would be my pleasure, Miss.”
Nero watched as two of the greatest loves of his life left to make dinner together, and he had to tighten his stomach to keep the butterflies he felt welling up inside him from distracting him from his current problem--the man on the sofa.
“So...why’re you here?” Nero asked, kicking the floor--then realizing he’d forgotten to take his boots off, putting all of Kyrie’s hard work in keeping the house clean to shame. “Shit.”
He glanced up to see that Vergil had removed his boots, at least. Damnit.
“Nero. You went to visit mother.” Vergil began, voice as cold as stone.
“Yeah. Well...you and Dante don’t exactly like to talk about...all this.” Nero said, gesturing with his arms to...everything. “Family, I mean.”
“...about...how you came to be, Nero.” Vergil continued.
Nero paused, staring at his father. “...what?”
“Come. Sit.” Vergil said, not having moved since Nero came in.
Nero swallowed. He looked at the doorway. The sounds of laughter, Griffon’s complaints and Shadow’s purring, accompanied by Kyrie and V’s voices conversing echoed through. Family. Yes, he needed to know. He turned, and marched himself over to the sofa, sitting next to Vergil...next to his father.
Nero frowned, growing a little impatient. He turned to look at Vergil, only to find the man sitting there, in a meditative state, his eyes closed. Was it..really that had to talk about? Nero was about to open his mouth to say something, anything to break the silence, when--
“I am your mother, Nero.”
Dante sighed--there was nothing better than extra, twelve-cheese pizza, with extra pepperonis, plus everything else and absolutely, no olives. Vergil may have been a sourpuss, but he was a man of his word. Dante did a good job cleaning up the office, and Dante got his promised pizza.
He sank his teeth into the cheesy, melty slice, chewing and humming joyfully.
The next thing Dante tasted was leather--covered in soil, rain and...was that blood? It could’ve been his blood, but maybe it was something or someone else’s. Didn’t matter. He tasted blood.
Oh, it was Nero.
“Oh, did Nero not know?” Kyrie asked, innocent as ever. “I suppose that he wouldn’t...he never really did listen well to our stories.”
Her laugh was pure and light, and somehow, that just made everything worse, Nico thought.
“...and the man was laden with incredible purpose, for within him was his legacy, a gift to the loyal citizens of Fortuna, who loved and served Sparda so. I didn’t quite understand that, but after awhile, it was obvious that child was Nero.”
She looked at Nico, with nothing but love and gratefulness in her eyes. Afterall, as someone raised by a knight of the Order of The Sword, there was no greater pleasure than to be rescued by a child of Sparda, and now, she had met both legendary sons of Sparda himself as well.
“I do not deserve such a wonderful life with Nero.” Kyrie sighed dreamily.
“N-no honey…” Nico said, placing a hand on her shoulder. “He reaaaaaally doesn’t deserve you .”
V sighed, he supposed this was entirely his fault.
“Recompense.” Vergil grunted, burying his face into the soft skin that was dangerously stretched over the delicate, tattooed ribcage.
“Vergil, you understand that Nero will--ah!” V replied in exasperation, unable to finish.
Vergil had begun scraping his teeth into V’s skin, sending sparks up his spine and pleasured tingled down towards the soft heat between his legs.
Sighing once more, V released his familiars, who gathered together in confusion; even Nightmare seemed lost as to why they were unceremoniously thrown out.
V struggled as Vergil leaned forward, causing V to cry out in alarm, being forced to cling onto him from where he sat on the man’s lap. He quickly shooed away his familiars, waving his cane around frantically whilst Vergil sank his teeth into his neck.
“Gh-!” V shuddered, glaring at Griffon who cackled as they left the room.
Shadow bounded out after the laughing bird, and V held Vergil’s head against his neck until the last bits of Nightmare disappeared into the floor (Vergil would most likely lose his temper if he so much as caught a glimpse of Nightmare). As much as he wanted to be recognized as the most mature of their collective family for being the eldest, Vergil was the true handful of all the descendants of Sparda.
“Now, now…” V reminded, tugging at Vergil’s hair a little roughly. “Unlike Dante, I would like to leave my leather goods intact.”
Vergil had already begun trying to nibble and nip his way down past the corset-like strings and flaps that held V’s jacket closed. V wriggled, prompting Vergil to remove his mouth from the soft flesh long enough to let V undo the ribbons himself. No sooner had the knots been undone, did Vergil roughly yank the jacket open the rest of the way.
“Ah, Vergil!” V scolded, his arms suddenly pulled back by the leather, forced behind his back in the jacket, now a bundle of chaffed leather.
“That’s better.” Vergil snorted triumphantly, returning to leaving bites and kisses on the soft skin, scarred with markings of the now absent tattoos.
“Mh-...nn…” V couldn’t help but find similarities differences in the way he was treated in times like this.
Vergil enjoyed using his teeth, as did Dante, and as did Nero. However, unlike Dante and Nero, he was gentle, biting just enough to bruise, but not enough to pierce skin. V watched as Vergil travelled lower, lapping at each bite he left with his tongue. Nero would do the same--but only because he’s drawn blood. Dante on the other hand, would bite hard enough to leave bruises and punctures, sucking instead of licking.
“Hnh-...” V’s body twitched at a nip directly above his cock--when had Vergil had the time to undo the button at his pants?
Vergil--unlike both Dante and Nero--preferred to break him slowly, gently, driving him to the edge in a maddeningly gentle pace that became absolutely unbearable. Like a child treasuring a precious memoir left behind by someone who was no longer of the world.
“You’re quite vocal for Nero.” Vergil pointed out in a petty complaint. “Why is that? Is he better at this than I am?”
“Haa-!” V gasped when he felt Vergil’s hand at his lower back, though he saw both of Vergil’s hands at his front--one holding his neck in place possessively, the other down in his pants. “What…?”
Perhaps it was because he and Urizen shared Vergil as their home; because Urizen needed him as much as he needed the other, and how they both needed--and were, and are still, and forever will be--Vergil, together.
“Ohh-!” V yelped, feeling fingers dig into the flesh of his ass, though once again, it seemed that both Vergil’s hands were preoccupied anywhere but there.
Vergil smirked, hands moving again at a lightning pace, doppling themselves to touch various parts of V’s body, before returning to where he originally had them. “That’s better. I would prefer to hear your voice.”
Each time Vergi held him, V could feel it, the flow between himself and the great, many-jawed and many-eyed demon king inside the son of Sparda. A reminder of their shared desire for each other.
“Vergil-! Uh-! That is--!” V felt the touches all at once; a pinch at his nipple, claws at his ass, fingers sliding up his thigh, a palm rubbing against his still confined balls, a thumb in his mouth pressing against his tongue, and finally, a sudden yanking of his pants, freeing his lower half.
In a fraction of a moment, he felt his body be lifted off the lap he had been so tightly pulled into, the cloth that encased his crotch and his legs vanishing, before being forced back down, thighs spread wider than before, pressing into the covered hardness between Vergil’s legs.
V pressed his lips into Vergil’s shoulder, feeling the man’s hands move once more. “Mh-! Hnmh…!”
Vergil touched and groped, gently, harshly, quickly--his hands disappearing and reappearing on different parts of V’s lithe form.
One by one, marks, scratches and bruises began to appear, like cruel magic. A raking of claws against V’s ribs, fingers flicking against soft, pink nipples, groping with so much pressure that it left welts on V’s ass.
Each new mark and cut that appeared sent electrifying pleasure up and down V’s spine, rendering the man little more than a twitching, clinging pale form against Vergil’s larger body.
“Ahh!” V shuddered when the feelings of pain, pleasure, and pressure all over his body suddenly stopped, Vergil’s hands now still at his hips.
Vergil took a moment to admire his work. Numerous finger-print-sized bruises covered V’s wrists, neck, ribs and sides, like footprints of ownership. They met with cross-crossing scratches, light and teasing, red with what little blood was drawn--not enough to drip, just enough to show the brilliant crimson color of V’s veins. He admired the scratches at the round of V’s ass in particular, peering over the man’s fang-bitten shoulder to look down at the criss-cross pattern of abuse on the once unmarred white skin.
V panted against Vergil’s boy, hot with desire against his own cold skin, the small wounds all over himself seering with the same heat.
“Vergil…” V managed between troubled breaths. “Are you...ah...angry?”
The little bits of stinging pain all sang together, collectively becoming a smouldering feeling of torment.
“I am.” Vergil replied into V’s shoulder, kissing the skin there as somewhat of an apology for the rather cruel way he wanted to treat the man tonight.
V was surprised, as he was every time, at the way he felt the heat between his thighs grow wet and even more needy.
“Vergil…” V ground against the hot bulge that was torturously pressing into his own dripping cock.
“No.” Vergil replied coldly. “Not until you beg me for it.”
V felt a sting that was not from the pleasurable or painful touches at his body, but rather within his chest. His expression grew pained with disgust--Vergil knew they shared the same, deep-seated pride. He would never...he would never beg…
“Do not...dare to presume…” V hissed, the grip on his cane having never let go, even as he remained flustered with lusty need.
Vergil smirked with he lifted his head and caught the look of defiance. He was proud to acknowledge V his better half; it confirmed that his prideful nature was human--that somehow that part of himself came from their mother.
“You are as Dante said…” Vergil grinned, a mischievous look at made V’s stomach drop with dread. “...beautiful.”
V grunted when his knees smacked against wood, the comfort of the cushion on top of the chair but a small solace. The room spun, ghosts of Vergil’s form were the only clue as to what had transpired. He was forced to cling onto the back of the seat, Vergil’s hands at his hips holding his ass in place like a presented meal.
And Vergil dove right into him.
“Oh-!” V arched, feeling a wet muscle enter into him. “Vergil…d-do not...be so…”
Vergil growled, a tinge of devilish tone in his voice; the man really was upset.
V trembled, his weak thighs barely able to keep him propped up against the cushion of the seat. “Ah...I refuse…to...oh…”
Vergil ventured in further, his eyes glowing sapphire as his mouth transformed.
“A-ah!” Jagged fangs pressed into V’s asscheeks, the thrill of the primal fear that struck him causing his cock to leak with excitement.
V felt his stomach fill, the unnaturally long, devil’s tongue reaching further and further in. The sensitive, innocent bundle of nerves inside of him was suddenly found and struck with a flick of the demonic appendage. V arched, silently gasping from the fiery pleasure it ignited within him. HIs cock throbbed as the tongue undulated against his gland, forcing him to secrete as his pleasure built upon itself.
“You...spoiled child…GH-!” V cried out, the tongue inside of him curling into itself, expanding his entrance forcefully, pressing into the throbbing bundle behind his cock and forcing him to cum. “VER--!”
Vergil suddenly withdrew, just as his tongue was becoming adorned with fangs, lest the same fangs marr V’s delicate insides. What a waste that would be.
“Hah...oh…!” V collapsed against the seat, knees buckling and sending him forward so quickly that the chair itself topped over.
But a large hand, leathery and covered in scales, caught him fast. The small, spent man panted against the monstrous palm as Vergil lifted him up, easing V against his chest and between his pelvis and his large, rigid, scale-ribbed cock.
“Hah...hah…” V shuddered at the sight.
He reached out, holding it against his softening cock and stomach; the powerful shaft reached as high as his navel whilst he sat a little higher on Vergil’s body. What would happen if he were to be pierced by it’s thickness, he wondered with a slight terror accompanying his hazy desire.
Vergil snarled, the layered voice ringing in V’s ear and drawing him back to the very real moment. “You are so easily peeled open…”
V felt his body continue to twitch and shudder under Vergil’s piercing gaze, appraising every inch of him, judging. “Only because...I allow it…”
Vergil crooned with approval, but he was not satisfied. V had yet to snap under the pressure he was applying.
V hummed, finding his bearings and beginning to stroke the shaft presented to him. With this size, it would be difficult to provide enough stimulation to satisfy Vergil unless the man were to calm enough to return to his human form. He would need to soothe him until then.
“Hh-!” V grit his teeth, toes curling as something sharp slicked past his opening--a clawed finger. “Vergil!?”
As much as Vergil enjoyed watching the man struggle and work his sanity around the pleasure he was being force-fed, it was time for Vergil to find his recompense.
“HAaaah…” instead of smirking, Vergil’s jaws opened in an evil sound, hearing V’s panicked cries.
“N-nhah! No-wait...it is not possible to-...!” V bit his lip when he felt another claw ease it’s way into him.
Then, a piercing feeling into his prostate. V gasped, choking on his own cry when he felt a heat blossom inside of him, unlike before. Whereas the teasing he received from the devil’s tongue had stimulated him physically, the claws that punctured the nerves inside of him were doing something else entirely, funneling a devilish pleasure from Vergil’s body into his. Like a sick medicine, meant to drive one mad instead of make one well.
“A-ahah…!” V released the cock, hands flying up to Vergil’s arms. “Vergil…! Wha-what...is...aah...oh…”
V’s hips moved of their own accord, thrusting downward on the talons inside of him, which continued to pump the wicked blue energy into his very being, like fangs injecting venom.
“Ah...ah...ah AH--!” V felt himself draw closer and closer, faster than he had before, each downward thrust onto the invading talons making him want more. “AH...AH..AAH-!”
“No-!” V cried panic, the throbbing inside of him hammering against his rationality.
“Will you beg?” Vergil inquired, as cruel as a true demon king, demanding subservience from the weak, pathetic human he held down with both pain and pleasure.
V glared back, his pride swelling past the throbbing of his groin. “I...hah...I...will...hah...not beg…not to a devil…”
Vergil’s jaw clenched in irritation. He seized the human by the neck and hips. He’d been patient long enough; the devil in his head was hungry, and he was beginning to lose interest in his little game with V.
“Mph…” V tasted himself, and Vergil, when the talons that had been inside him forced their way into his mouth, slicing into his lips along the way.
Vergil gripped V’s tongue between his fingers, guiding the man’s hips up, then, down.
“MHH-!” V’s entire body tightened when the head of the hot, desire-slicked cock pressed into his stretched entrance.
Despite Vergil’s efforts--or intentional lack thereof--of loosening him and pleasuring him, the width of even the cockhead was a monster to take in. V felt himself stretch further than Vergil’s tongue had teased him before, his pelvic bones shaking with effort.
“Mph...hph...ah…” cried spilled from V’s lips when the fingers in his mouth finally withdrew enough to let him properly breathe. “Hah...hah...uh...hah…”
A perversion inside Vergil was stoked, watching such a frail, breakable form be forced to take in such a massive, infernal root. With a slightly pop and a gasp, V’s weak body accepted the cockhead.
“Ah...oh...n-noh…” The man was left clinging onto the broad arms that held him fast, mouth agasp in incoherent pants, eyes gazing blankly at nothing.
A trembling hand travelled downward, pressing at the thin-skinned stomach, rubbing it in circles as if V was puppeted by the overwhelming sensation. V felt the pressure from inside, barely there, but enough to register that V was rubbing him through his own flesh--wanting more.
“Hrrgh--!” Vergil obliged, sinking V down further onto the rest of him, stopping halfway when he felt V’s hand on the head of his cock, through a layer of supple flesh.
“Ahk-...” V’s mouth fell open wide, eyes going white as they rolled back as far as they could. “AH-!”
It’s thickness pressed into V’s ignited prostate, still throbbing with need, poisoned by Vergil’s earlier treatment. V’s hand let go, allowing his stomach to fill, protruding deliciously with infernal heat.
“HAA-!” V came, body shuddering from the pressure that threatened to render him completely mad.
But Vergil did not hesitate. He began to sink himself into the body on his lap lower, and lower still, until he felt V’s hips against his own. V thrashed, screaming in pleasure-induced insanity, weeping cock forced to ejaculate again, and again with every inch forced into him.
“Ah...aa….aa…” Finally, the thin man was nothing more than an incoherent mess.
Drunken with demonic essence coursing through his veins, V sat there, slumped into the rocky ridges and spikes that made up Vergil’s form, like a perverted throne--legs spread wide for all to see the throbbing shaft that wedged itself up inside of him, fattening his once slight stomach with devilish meat. V’s gaze faltered, pupils dilated with unnatural pleasure, staring up at the devil prying him open.
AH-...!” V yelped, taloned hands lifting him up slightly, only to drop him back down on the cock running him through; again, and again, and again. “AH-! AH-! AH-!”
Vergil had not had enough. The sight before him was too delicious, too awe-inspiring, too perverse for himself to resist.
“AH-! AH-! HAH-!” Like a doll being suddenly given life, V went from limp to arching and screaming, thrashing against the devil in meaningless effort
Slap! Slap! Slap!
V lost himself, the girth inside him stretching him out over and over, pressing into his most sensitive parts in the best, worst way. “AAH! AAAH!”
Vergil drove on, lifting the small man on his lap up and dropping him down, then resorting to pressing him down, then yanking him down on his cock..
Slap! Slap! SLAP !
It was tight, and hot, and intoxicating.
SLAP! --“AAH!”-- SLAP! --“AAHH!” --SLAP!-- “ AAH !”
Vergil allowed himself to focus entirely on the sensation that was V, joyfully being forced to ride his devilish shaft.
“AAAH!” --SLAP!-- ”HAAH!”-SLAP!-
The floor grew slick with white, and then clear, perverted fluid as V came again and again, driven on by the feeling of being completely consumed by the devil that penetrated him.
--SLAP--! “HA--!” -SLAP--!
Finally, Vergil gave in.
V arched into the rigid chest, feeling his stomach filled with hellish seed. The cock inside him throbbed, again and again, his body shuddering as his already filled stomach strained to accept what poured into him. V trembled uncontrollably, aching joints relinquishing their last efforts and he once more, slumped against Vergil’s body.
Vergil hissed through his fangs, pressing his hard face into the nape of V’s neck, taking in the man’s scent like a possessive animal. Spent, V could barely feel anything other than the heat that filled his body. Vergil crooned and growled, biting into skin and licking, marking and sucking; he did not know, but it was very much exactly how Dante would behave after filling V as he had just done.
A few minutes passed and Vergil had yet to calm down. His cock still twitched with desire, and the human in his grasp smelled too good to let go of just yet. V sat there silently, slowly returning to himself with every lick and bite, and nuzzle.
Vergil was about to resume fornicating with the man, when V finally spoke.
“Ah...Vergil...V-Vergil…” V’s voice was sore and ragged, but persistent.
The devil was caught by surprise when the man underneath him turned, swivelling his frail, delicate body with his girth still forced up inside of him. Vergil watched in fascination as the bulge inside V’s stomach lurched when his cock twitched, causing the man to convulse in pleasure, still he persisted, turning to face Vergil, spread wide in fearless acceptance.
“Once more…” V whispered, arms hanging off Vergil’s shoulders.
Vergil snarled, smokey desire escaping his jaws and fiery horns.
“You have not-ahh...satisfied me...have you…?” V smiled, eyes filled with arrogant mischief as a hand released Vergil’s shoulder, to press into the bulge that was Vergil’s cock in his stomach. “Or perhaps...it is only like this--hah...a-as a devil...that you can pleasure me?”
Vergil snapped his hips in irritation.
V’s eyes went wide when the bulge inside of him travelled upward, filling the rest of his ribcage. “AH-!”
“You’re right…” Vergil’s voice echoed, as if a thousand demons were speaking. “It is a waste…”
“Ha...uh...urkh…” V shook violently around the cock inside of him, mind reeling.
“For such a small…”
V’s swimming thoughts latched onto the feeling of a rough tongue against his neck, and he realized Vergil’s voice was losing it’s fierceness. The fangs at his neck breaking skin just enough to bring him back from almost losing consciousness.
“Weak and fragile…”
V groaned, the immense weight that stretched his insides receding, ever so slowly, ever so carefully.
“Frail…” Vergils pressed his lips into V’s neck where the bites and rough rakes from his devil tongue’s fangs marred his skin. “Human…”
“Ah-...” V wrapped his legs around the man’s hips when he felt Vergl thrust into him. “Oh...y-yes…”
The thrusts were deep and firm, but no longer rough or wild.
Slap. Slap. Slap.
V felt Vergil press his hips into his ass each time their flesh bounced off each other, denying the distance that physics should have forced between them.
“Vergil…ah” V cooed, the cock inside of him rubbing firmly against his abused, throbbing nerve bundle. “Yes...ah--deep...ah…”
This time, Vergil held V close, thrusting into him in hard bucks, barely leaving any space between their bodies; only just enough to roughly thrust into V’s deepest parts. The man convulsed and cried, beginning to shatter at the soft, gentle, assertive thrusts. They both knew that Vergil need not mark him, or bite him, or force him down and make him beg. All he needed to do was simply hold him and enter him to claim him as his own; because V would accept him every single time.
“Vergil...please…” V finally begged, allowing himself to fall apart only now, only when Vergil was holding him so tightly and penetrating him so closely. “I cannot...I will…”
“Crumble, then...like the frail flesh you are.” Vergil whispered.
V let go, body collapsing as his final orgasm took him, sending his mind into a blank, white state. He felt himself fall apart in Vergil’s arms, which held him fast as the man inside and all around him marked his deepest parts with the seed of ownership.
V found himself staring at the ceiling--a ceiling he knew too well--the ceiling of Dante’s bedroom. How they had gotten there, and where the other son of Sparda currently was, V could not find it in himself to bother with. He felt a weight against his chest, just below where his rib cage ended, as if the man on top of him was trying to open him up and crawl inside of him by sheer force.
Vergil was awake. Vergil had been awake for some time. Watching the sunrise through the window, wallowing in his own guilt. Though now, it was heaped on by the guilt of having forcefully taken V the devening prior.
“Nero is angry with me.” his voice was soft, terrified, sad.
V caught himself before he could laugh, brushing his fingers through the man’s hair. He looked (and was currently behaving) just like his twin brother. V sighed and rested his hand on top of Vergil’s head, holding him like a mother would their child.
The gesture once again, surprised Vergil--who had never known a soft embrace after treating someone so cruelly. He was accustomed to the bites and the yelling, blades and pain and fury...only then, only then would Dante or Nero allow him forgiveness. This time however, no physical confrontation would occur, not with Nero refusing to look him in the eye without spluttering something about Dante’s usual dirty tricks. He did not understand why nero would not yell at him. He did not understand why Nero instead went after Dante. Simply to say--he felt...excluded.
...why wouldn’t Nero beat him? Was he tired of their little family?
“He will forgive you.” V comforted, sighing as he felt his body sing in relief--the wounds and bruises had all been closed up courtesy of Vergil, and were fading away. “I believe you misunderstand.”
It was V’s job to comfort his three troublesome devils. Even someone as troublesome, and as sinful as Vergil. For where would he be if this half-devil hadn’t so generously let him go after he had returned to him?
“Misunderstand?” Vergil frowned, looking up to meet V’s gaze, shocked once more at how gently the deep green eyes gazed at him.
V shuffled down, wrapping his arms around Vergil as best as he could with the man’s larger size, and kissing the pouting overgrown child’s lips.
“Did you not sleep?” V questioned.
Vergil did not reply--but V knew why Vergil refused to sleep most nights. He kissed him again, holding him as close as physically possible. He shut his eyes.
“Come now. I shall ensure that your nightmares do not bother you.” V reassured.
Vergil stared into the pale chest pressed into his face, tracing the scars of demonic pact markings with his eyes. Not scars, he corrected himself, but trophies, marks of the man who mastered even his darkest night-terrors and horrific memories. A man named V that was himself and not himself, distinguishable and yet indistinguishable, two existences that were but one, especially when they were this close.
“They best not; I noticed that they fail to listen to even you, sometimes.”
Vergil closed his eyes, and promptly fell asleep into the late afternoon.