Work Text:
The room smelled of stale ozone and damp concrete. A single, naked bulb flickered overhead, casting erratic shadows that danced across the grey walls. Vergil shifted, the rattle of heavy iron chains echoing through the silence. His wrists were pinned wide, arms stretched taut above his head, bolted to the frame of a rusted iron bed. His ankles were similarly secured, splaying his legs open in a position of total vulnerability.
He blinked, his red eyes adjusting to the dim light. His white hair was a chaotic mess, spilling over his forehead. Despite the predicament, a smirk tugged at the corner of his lips. He let out a soft, melodic laugh that sounded out of place in the gloom.
"Is this the best you could come up with, Dante? A basement? How dreadfully cliché."
From the shadows at the edge of the room, a figure emerged. Dante moved with a slow, predatory grace. His black hair obscured part of his face, but his eyes glowed with a dull, menacing crimson. He wore a long, dark coat that swept the floor, the fabric absorbing what little light existed. He didn't speak. He simply stopped at the foot of the bed, his gaze raking over Vergil's exposed body.
"What's the matter? Lost your tongue?" Vergil taunted, his voice dripping with a forced confidence. He arched his back, the chains clinking. "Or are you just intimidated by the sight of someone who actually possesses a shred of dignity?"
Dante stepped closer. He reached out, his fingers cold as ice, and gripped Vergil's chin, squeezing hard enough to bruise.
"Shut up," Dante rasped. The voice was a low growl, devoid of warmth.
Vergil winced but didn't look away. "Make me."
Dante let go of his chin and moved his hand down, his palm flat against Vergil's chest. He pushed, pinning the younger man deeper into the mattress. Dante’s expression remained a mask of cruelty, his eyes devoid of any empathy. He hated his brother, hated the arrogance, the lineage, the very air he breathed. But more than that, he hated how much he wanted to break him.
"You think you're special," Dante whispered, his voice barely audible.
"I know I am," Vergil spat.
Dante's hand slid lower, moving past the ribs to the stomach, then lower still. He stopped at the junction of Vergil's thighs. There was no bulge there, no masculine protrusion. Instead, there was only a soft, wet slit, hidden behind a few stray hairs. A biological anomaly that Vergil guarded with a fierce, prideful secrecy.
Vergil's breath hitched. The arrogance in his eyes flickered for a fraction of a second, replaced by a flash of genuine panic.
"Don't touch me," Vergil hissed, his voice losing its melodic quality.
Dante’s fingers brushed against the sensitive folds. Vergil jumped, the chains clattering violently against the bedframe.
"You're shaking," Dante noted.
"I'm disgusted," Vergil lied, his chest heaving.
Dante didn't respond with words. He reached for the belt of his trousers, undoing the leather with a slow, deliberate motion. He stepped out of his pants, revealing a thick, heavy cock that stood rigid and pulsing. The head was a deep, angry purple, leaking a bead of clear pre-cum that glistened under the flickering bulb.
Vergil stared, his pupils dilating. He had never seen one up close, let alone one that looked so predatory.
"Look at it," Dante commanded.
"I'd rather look at a sewer," Vergil snapped, though he couldn't tear his eyes away.
Dante climbed onto the bed, his weight shifting the rusted springs. He crawled over Vergil, his large frame dwarfing his young brother. He positioned himself between Vergil's spread legs, the heat from his body radiating against Vergil's chilled skin.
"You've never been touched, have you?"
Vergil clamped his jaw shut, turning his head to the side.
"Answer me."
"Go to hell," Vergil whispered.
Dante grabbed Vergil's inner thigh, digging his nails into the soft flesh. He forced the leg wider, exposing the pink, tight opening of the cunt. It was pristine, untouched, and currently trembling. Dante leaned down, his breath hot against Vergil's ear.
"You are about to be ruined ."
Dante didn't use any lubricant. He didn't use any tenderness. He gripped the base of his cock and aligned the broad head with the narrow entrance. With a sudden, brutal thrust, he slammed forward.
Vergil's scream ripped through the room, a raw, guttural sound of pure agony. The tight walls of his virgin anatomy were forced open with violent speed. He felt the skin stretch to the breaking point, then snap. A sharp, searing pain exploded in his lower abdomen, radiating outward to his fingertips.
Dante paused, his chest heaving, his cock buried halfway inside. He could feel the resistance, the tight, gripping heat of his brother interior. He looked down and saw a streak of bright crimson blood leaking from the point of entry, staining the white sheets and the dark skin of his own shaft.
"Stop! Get out! Get out of me!" Vergil shrieked, his body convulsing. Tears streamed down his face, his pride finally shattering under the weight of the physical trauma.
Dante didn't pull out. Instead, he pushed deeper, forcing the rest of his length inside with a wet, squelching sound. He bottomed out, his pelvis slamming against Vergil's with a dull thud.
Vergil's voice failed him. He gasped, his mouth open in a silent scream, his back arching so hard he nearly lifted off the bed. The pain was overwhelming, a white-hot brand searing through his core. He felt the warmth of his own blood lubricating the friction, a messy, metallic-smelling slurry.
Dante began to move. He withdrew slowly, the sound of sliding flesh and blood, a wet, shlicking noise, filling the air. Then he slammed back in.
"Does it hurt?" Dante asked, his voice cold.
Vergil couldn't answer. He could only sob, his head thrashing from side to side.
"I asked you a question, Vergil."
"Yes... it hurts... please..."
Dante's eyes flared. He picked up the pace, his thrusts becoming rhythmic and punishing. Each impact sounded like a slap, the sound of balls hitting skin echoing in the small room. The friction began to shift from pure pain to something confusing and electric. The raw edges of the tear were being rubbed, the nerve endings screaming and then buzzing.
"You're so tight," Dante grunted, his facade of indifference slipping into a mask of lust. "Like you were made just to be used."
"I hate you," Vergil whimpered, though his hips were beginning to instinctively tilt upward, seeking more of the pressure.
"I know."
Dante accelerated, his movements becoming a blur of violence. The bedframe groaned and rattled, the chains clinking in a frantic percussion. Vergil's cries turned from screams of pain to erratic, high-pitched moans. He felt the pressure building, the strange sensation of being filled to capacity, the feeling of his internal organs being pushed aside by the intruder.
Dante let out a low growl, his muscles tightening. He delivered three more powerful, deep thrusts, the sound of air being pushed out of the tight orifice creating a wet, popping noise. With a final, violent shove, he groaned, his body stiffening as he erupted inside Vergil.
The heat was instantaneous. Vergil felt the thick, hot jets of semen hitting his cervix, filling him up, mixing with the blood. He let out a long, shuddering breath and collapsed back into the mattress, his eyes glazed.
Dante stayed buried inside him for a long moment, breathing heavily. He slowly withdrew, the cock sliding out with a wet, sucking sound. A mixture of white cum and red blood leaked from Vergil's ruined entrance, dripping onto the sheets.
Dante stood up and stepped back, looking down at the broken boy. Vergil lay there, trembling, his legs still splayed, the blood staining his thighs.
"Pathetic," Dante said.
Vergil closed his eyes,tears escaping. "I... still... hate you."
Dante didn't reply. He walked to a small table, poured a glass of water, and drank it in silence. The tension in the room didn't dissipate; it only shifted, simmering beneath the surface.
Ten minutes passed. The silence was heavy, broken only by Vergil's ragged breathing. He tried to shift his legs, but the movement caused a sharp sting to shoot through his crotch. He hissed, his face twisting.
"Still proud?" Dante asked, his voice cutting through the air.
Vergil opened one eye. "I'm... enduring."
"Enduring what? The fact that you're leaking like a gutted fish?"
Vergil's lip curled. "You think... a little blood... makes me weak?"
Dante's eyes narrowed. He walked back to the bed, but this time, he didn't just climb on. He reached down and grabbed Vergil's ankles, dragging him toward the edge of the bed. Vergil yelled, struggling against the chains, but Dante's strength was absolute. He flipped Vergil over, forcing him onto his hands and knees, though his wrists remained bolted to the frame, forcing his chest flat against the mattress and his ass high in the air.
"This position should be more... efficient," Dante murmured.
Vergil looked back over his shoulder, his expression a mixture of terror and defiance. "You're a monster."
"You have no idea," Dante replied.
Dante didn't wait for his cock to fully subside from the first round. He was already hard again, the desire fueled by the sight of Vergil's submission. He stepped behind him, the scent of copper and musk filling his nostrils. He reached down and spread Vergil's cheeks, exposing the blood-smeared hole. It was swollen, red, and glistening.
"Please,Don't... " Vergil whispered, the word barely audible.
Dante ignored him. He positioned himself and drove inward.
Vergil let out a strangled cry. The second entry was easier because of the blood and semen, but it was more intense. The angle allowed Dante to hit deeper, rubbing against the sensitive walls of the cunt in a way that made Vergil's toes curl.
"Squelch," went the sound of the impact.
Dante began to pump, his movements more aggressive than before. He wasn't just seeking pleasure; he was trying to erase Vergil identity. He gripped Vergil's hips, his fingers bruising the pale skin, and hammered into him.
Dante sneered, his voice vibrating against Vergil's spine. "The great son of sparda, Vergil, sobbing and shaking like a dog."
"Shut up... shut up!" Vergil screamed, but the scream ended in a moan as Dante hit a specific spot deep inside.
Vergil's body shuddered. A strange, undulating pleasure began to coil in his gut, warring with the lingering pain. He hated it. He hated that his body was betraying him, that the friction was starting to feel good.
"You like it," Dante observed, his voice a dark caress.
"No! I don't!"
"Your body says otherwise. You're gripping me so tight I can barely move."
Dante increased the speed. The slapping sound of their bodies meeting became a frantic rhythm. Vergil was losing himself, his mind spinning. The world was reduced to the feel of the cold metal on his wrists, the smell of the room, and the overwhelming presence of the man behind him.
Suddenly, the air in the room changed. The temperature spiked, a wave of oppressive heat rolling outward. A low, humming vibration shook the floorboards.
Vergil felt it first, a surge of power that made the hair on his arms stand up. He looked back and saw Dante's skin beginning to shift. Dark, chitinous plates erupted from Dante's shoulders and back. His muscles swelled, his veins bulging like cords under his skin. His eyes glowed with a blinding, demonic light.
The Devil Trigger.
The change in anatomy was immediate. Dante's cock grew thicker, longer, the surface becoming ribbed and pulsing with a heat that felt like molten lead.
Vergil gasped, his eyes wide. "What... what are you doing?"
Dante didn't answer. He couldn't. The Devil Trigger had stripped away his words, leaving only raw, predatory instinct. He let out a roar that shook the very foundations of the building and slammed back into Vergil.
The impact was tectonic. Vergil felt as if he were being split in two. The increased girth of the demonic cock stretched him far beyond his limits, the walls of his cunt screaming under the pressure. He felt the ribs of the shaft scraping against his interior, creating a friction that was almost unbearable.
"Ahhh! Stop! It's too much! It's too much!"
Dante didn't stop. He was a force of nature, a storm of flesh and rage. He gripped Vergil's waist so hard the bone groaned. He drove himself in and out with inhuman strength, each thrust sending Vergil sliding across the mattress despite the chains.
The sounds were visceral. The shlicking of the lubricated hole, the wet squelching of the deep penetrations, and the heavy, guttural grunts of the demon. Vergil's world became a blur of red and black. He was no longer a person; he was a vessel for Dante's cruelty.
He felt the pressure building again, but this time it was different. It was a tidal wave. The sheer size of the Devil Trigger was overstimulating every nerve ending in his lower body. He felt a sudden, violent spasm ripple through his cunt. He didn't have a cock to cum with, but the internal muscles clamped down in a rhythmic, pulsing orgasm that left him gasping for air.
Dante roared, his own climax hitting him with the force of an explosion. He buried himself as deep as possible, his demonic cock pulsing violently. He filled Vergil with a volume of semen that felt impossible, the hot fluid flooding his brother internals, overflowing and spilling out in thick, white ropes that mingled with the blood on the sheets.
Dante remained in the Devil Trigger for several minutes, his heavy breathing the only sound in the room. He slowly retracted, the demonic features receding, the chitinous plates sinking back into his skin. He returned to his human form, leaving Vergil a ruined heap on the bed.
Vergil was unconscious. His chest rose and fell in shallow, erratic breaths. He looked small, fragile, and completely broken.
Dante stood back, his expression unreadable. He looked at the blood and the seed covering the bed. He felt a flicker of something, not guilt, but a strange, cold satisfaction. He had stripped away the pride. He had found the core of Vergil and crushed it.
He didn't leave. He waited.
An hour later, Vergil stirred. He groaned, his eyes fluttering open. He tried to move, but his body felt like it had been put through a meat grinder. He felt a heavy, wet warmth between his legs.
Dante was sitting in a chair by the bed, watching him.
"Round three," Dante said simply.
Vergil's eyes widened. "No... please... I can't... I can't do it again."
"You can."
Dante stood up and approached the bed. He didn't use the chains this time. He reached down and unlocked the shackles from Vergil's wrists and ankles.
Vergil didn't run. He couldn't. He lay there, staring at the ceiling, his spirit extinguished.
"Sit up," Dante commanded.
Vergil obeyed slowly, his movements stiff. He sat up, his white hair clinging to his damp forehead. He looked at Dante, and for the first time, there was no arrogance in his gaze. There was only a hollow, echoing void.
Dante grabbed him by the hair, pulling his head back. "Still hate me?"
Vergil's voice was a whisper, a ghost of its former self.
"Yes."
"Good."
Dante pushed him back down and climbed over him. This time, he didn't go for the cunt immediately. He leaned down and captured Vergil's lips in a kiss. It wasn't a kiss of affection; it was a conquest. He forced his tongue into Vergil's mouth, sucking on it with a greedy, possessive intensity. He exchanged saliva with Vergil, the taste of iron and salt filling their mouths.
Vergil whimpered into the kiss, his hands weakly clutching at Dante's shoulders.
Dante pulled away, a string of saliva connecting them. He moved down, his tongue tracing a path over Vergil's collarbone, down to his nipples, which were hard and sensitive. He bit down on one, drawing a sharp cry from Vergil.
Then, he moved lower. He used his fingers to open Vergil's legs, looking at the damage. The opening was raw and gaping, the skin bruised a deep purple. It was a mess of fluids, blood, cum, and sweat.
Dante entered him slowly this time.
Vergil let out a long, shaky breath. "It... it feels..."
"What?"
"Full," Vergil whispered.
Dante began to move, a slow, grinding motion. He wasn't hammering him this time; he was savoring the feeling. He rotated his hips, rubbing against the internal walls, feeling the way Vergil's body trembled around him.
The sounds were softer now, more intimate, yet no less dark. Dante watched Vergil's face, watching the way his eyes rolled back, the way his lips parted.
"Tell me you're mine," Dante whispered.
Vergil shook his head, his white hair splaying across the pillow. "Never."
Dante responded by thrusting harder, a sudden, sharp movement that made Vergil gasp.
"Tell me."
"I... I'm..."
"Say it."
"I'm yours," Vergil sobbed, the words breaking his heart. "I'm yours, Dante."
Dante smiled. It was a cruel, thin expression. He accelerated the pace, the friction building once more. He felt the heat rising, the familiar tension in his loins. He gripped Vergil's hands, pinning them against the mattress, their fingers intertwining.
The final round was a slow descent into exhaustion. They moved together in a desperate, hateful dance, the sound of their bodies colliding filling the room. Vergil's moans were no longer screams; they were pleas, a rhythmic accompaniment to the sliding of flesh.
As Dante reached his limit, he leaned down, whispering into Vergil's ear.
"You'll never forget this."
Dante erupted one last time, his semen filling Vergil to the brim. He felt Vergil's internal muscles clenching around him in one final, weak spasm. They stayed like that for a long time, locked together in a bond of mutual hatred and forced intimacy.
When Dante finally withdrew, he didn't say a word. He dressed in silence, the leather of his coat creaking. He looked back at Vergil, who lay curled in a fetal position, stained and shivering.
Dante walked toward the door.
"Dante?" Vergil's voice was barely a breath.
Dante paused, his hand on the light switch.
"Will you come back?"
Dante didn't look back. He flipped the switch, plunging the room into absolute darkness.
The sound of the heavy steel door slamming shut echoed through the basement, leaving Vergil alone in the dark, the scent of blood and seed the only thing remaining of his pride.