Chapter Text
True to his word, he's in back in a matter of moments, brandishing a gold foil packet between two fingers. Heat immediately rises to your cheeks because the action cements the reality of your situation. Oh god, you're really doing this. With Vergil, no less. He peels off his coat and hangs it carefully over the back of Dante's office chair. You've never seen him without his coat, even in the middle of summer. Neither he nor Dante seem to be particularly affected by changes in temperature. You take a moment to appreciate his delightfully muscular arms. Then, you draw your eyes upwards to meet his own. He'd been watching you eye him up, you realise with embarrassment, though he makes no comment on it.
"Bedroom," he instructs. "I have no desire for my brother to walk in on us. "
Of course, Vergil would still be all business, strict and to the point, as usual. You don't know why you'd thought otherwise. Still, you follow him upstairs without a word. He shuts the door behind you, sealing your fate, and begins shucking off his boots. Your heart begins to speed up in anticipation.
"Now, you need a safe word. Are you familiar with the concept?" He asks with a gentleness you hadn't realised he'd been capable of expressing.
You nod. You'd read books and watched movies, it wasn't like the subject was completely alien to you. You're only a virgin in the most literal sense of the word.
His expression is unreadable as he regards you and it's equal parts disconcerting and arousing. Vergil is beautiful, there's no other word for him. With his pale skin, silver hair elegantly swept back, and his grey eyes, he's like an exquisite marble statue come to life.
You swallow, realising that he's waiting for an answer. "I am. But I thought that was only for, like, BDSM stuff?"
You wish your voice hadn't come out so high and uncertain. You sound like a naïve child. You half expect Vergil to call the whole thing off, tell you you're too inexperienced for him, but surely he must want this, as well? Why else would he have agreed to it?
"Generally, I suppose," he says. "But I'd rather be cautious. "
He's removed his gaiters as well, leaving him only in his vest and leather pants. You still have your own shoes on and you should probably do something about that, but you've always resorted to keeping them on in Dante's shop. The floor is so constantly dirty that you've never wanted to risk stepping on it with bare feet. You're half-convinced that you'll catch something incurable just from looking at the state of Devil May Cry, sometimes.
"Couldn't I just ask you to stop?" You ask.
"Sometimes, in the throes of passion, one says things that they don't actually mean, " he explains. He could easily sound condescending, but he doesn't.
And only Vergil would describe it as the 'throes of passion'. God, but he's so adorably dorky sometimes, you just can't not fuck him. You try to search for a word in the recesses of your mind, but it's hard to focus with all the heat tingling between your thighs. He's staring at you with an expression that you think is almost hungry and you decide that if this is a dream, you never want to wake up.
"Uh," you say stupidly. Your eyes scan your surroundings in a panic and then zero in on one of the books in his collection. "What about "William Blake' ?" You smirk at him.
Vergil shoots you a look that's equal parts amused and annoyed, but he doesn't argue with you. Instead, he accepts with a formal "very well. "
He begins to remove his vest with long, elegant fingers and you swear your mouth waters at the idea of him touching you with those. You've seen him with the Yamato and there's absolutely no way that he's not incredible with his hands from how carefully you've seen him finger the sageo. You'd be lying if you said that you'd never watched him do that, hoping that one day he'd give you the same treatment. The idea that it's a real possibility today has you damn near soaking wet and you wonder if he can smell you. You certainly hope so, the idea is kind of hot.
"Are you ready?" He asks, snapping you out of your horny reverie.
You nod as confidently as you can and he reaches out a hand to touch your chest. He doesn't do anything at first, simply allowing you to grow accustomed to the feel of his touch against your body. You can tell that he's watching you carefully, reading your mood. He's always been incredibly observant.
"Vergil," you whine desperately and he chuckles at your neediness.
"I'm going to take your shirt off. Is that alright?" He says softly.
"Fuck, yes, please," you beg.
You need to have his hands on you more badly than you've ever needed anything in your life. Vergil doesn't keep you waiting, much to your surprise. You would've chalked him up to a definite dominate, needing to have as much control in the bedroom as he seems to require everywhere else in his life. Vergil lifts your shirt to expose your stomach, running his sinful fingers higher and higher up your body until he's unclipping your bra in one practised motion. It falls to the floor inelegantly. Next, his cold hands find your breasts, thumbing at your nipples until you're groaning and writhing into his touch. In contrast to his fingers, his breath is hot against your neck as he leaves a trail of sloppy kisses down its length. You moan his name, which seems to encourage him because next, he's pulling your shirt up over your head. You can feel his hard cock pressed against your thigh and if you'd been more in control of your senses, you would've been intimidated by just how big it feels. But you trust Vergil, it's why you'd come to him in the first place. And fuck, the expertise with which he's turning you to putty in his hands tells you that this is far from his first rodeo. He pulls back and you whine in protest at the loss.
"Pants off," he instructs. "I want you naked and waiting on the bed for me. "
With how far gone you are, it takes you a few moments to register what he'd said, but you do as you're told as soon as it clicks. He's removing his gloves with his teeth and setting them beside the bed as you strip off your clothes, and then he's kneeling in front of you with his head almost between your legs. He's as demanding as you'd expected, but you don't mind. Far from it, in fact. You lean your weight back against your hands, propping yourself up against the mattress in preparation for him. Vergil gently coaxes your legs open and hums in approval at just how wet you are for him.
"I hadn't... Expected you to be so... Vanilla," you gasp in a flimsy attempt at regaining your dignity.
"I'm not," he says in a matter-of-fact tone. "But it's your first time. Now," Vergil pulls up to his full height, looking at you directly. "Are you still ready to go ahead with this? You're allowed to stop me if you've changed your mind. "
You shake your head quickly, but he holds your gaze until you give him a verbal answer.
"Then, we shall begin," he declares.
Apparently satisfied, he delicately spreads your lower lips once again and then leans over to apply a soft kitten lick to your clit. The action feels so damn good that you relax fully into the mattress with a gasp. He laps at you for a few moments and you lose yourself in what has to be the best experience of your life. You lose track of space and time, of anything that is not Vergil's delicate pink tongue working between your legs. He pulls back again after a bit and you whine your disappointment at the loss.
"I'm going to try adding a finger. Stop me if it hurts," he informs you.
He's being so patient with you, so gentle. And as amazing as you find him, you'd never expected him to be capable of being this soft. Maybe something about you coming to him with your virgin blood fiasco and the vulnerability of exposing your all to him had coaxed some semblance of openness in him, as well? Your train of thought is swiftly cut off as Vergil probes a finger into you. He needn't have worried, you're so wet that it glides in with ease. You moan his name and he shows his pleasure by beginning to pump it slowly in and out of you. You begin to reflexively buck your hips against his hand desperately. He chuckles again and leans forward until his hot breath tickles your ear, though he doesn't slow down the motion of his finger at all.
"How greedy for one so inexperienced. Whatever shall I do with you, hmm?" He teases.
And then you feel his teeth brush against your earlobe and you moan out his name again. He drives another finger into you and begins scissoring them, stretching you open bit by bit. He's barely even started and he already has you at his mercy. The man is certainly a devil, after all. You'd expected this to hurt, but so far, it's been nothing but pleasure. There's the obscenely wet noise of his fingers driving in and out of you, peppered with your moans as you writhe against the mattress.
"Oh, how you sing so beautifully for me. I think you deserve a reward," his voice is so delightfully sultry that it should be illegal.
"Fuck, yes, Vergil, please!"
"With you begging so nicely for me, how could I deny you?" He purrs as he shoves a third finger in.
His other hand begins to circle your clit and between that and the sensation of his fingers stretching you, you feel like the thrill is going to swallow you whole.
"Please just fuck me already," you beg, allowing your desperation to soak into your voice.
"Patience. "
"Fuck, Vergil, please!" You cry.
He makes a noise in your ear that's almost a growl and if you were any more in control of yourself, it probably would've frightened you. Instead, it only spurs you on, rewarding Vergil with a gush of slick that coats both his fingers and the sheets beneath you.
"Fine," he concedes coolly. "If you're that desperate. "
He pulls his fingers out of you and then you hear the sound of pants being unzipped, followed by a condom being unwrapped. You mewl in anticipation and spread yourself out for him even more. Vergil hisses at the sight and you prop yourself upwards to get a better look at him. His legs are lean but rippled with hard muscles, adding a perfect contrast to his broad chest. There's a trail of silver-white hair down to his fully erect dick and, god, the only word for it is pretty.
Vergil leans over you with his arms straddling your head as he lowers himself into you. At first, he simply lets his cock sit between your labia, letting you grow accustomed to the feeling. Then, when you begin impatiently bucking into him, he begins gently moving it in a sawing motion between your folds. It's still not enough, though.
"You are truly insatiable, woman," he growls into your ear.
But he doesn't deny you any longer. Vergil pulls back, then buries his cock head into you with one swift motion that has you reeling. He's definitely big, but the pain gives way to pleasure as you begin to notice how delightful it is to be stretched out over him. He's in tune with your body, reading your silent cues and responding to them perfectly. He's your first partner, but you have no doubt that he's definitely ruining you for other men. Sensing that you're ready for the next step, Vergil lowers himself into you until he's about halfway in and, god, the feeling is like nothing else on earth. You whine and squirm beneath him, needing to feel him driving into you.
And so Vergil complies, sheathing himself inside you until there's the lewd sound of him slapping against you. He begins to work up a steady rhythm that has you breathless as your eyes damn near roll back into your head. His arms encircle your body and he pulls you closer to him. The new angle is so good that you already feel yourself growing wetter and more sensitive. Vergil is near silent aside from the occasional soft grunts as he drives into you. It's not long until your legs turn to jelly and you cum with a cry of his name. Vergil pulls out of you gently, careful not to overstimulate you.
"Thank you, " you say awkwardly.
He hums his acknowledgement and then begins tucking himself back into his pants.
"Of course. I like to know that you're safe," he says so quietly that it's almost inaudible.
If you weren't so well and truly exhausted from that thorough fucking, you would've felt your heart warm at those mind words. Vergil regards your drooping eyelids with a neutral expression. You don't even care that you're still in his bed, you feel yourself falling into the dark oblivion of dreams.
"Now, sleep. " He whispers to you.
It's easy to obey.