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A swift but gentle nip to your inner thigh made a loud moan escape your throat. Grasping at the silvery strands of hair that were attached to their owner who was hellbent to stay between your legs, another moan escaped you as the person nipped harshly your skin once again.
How the hell did you get here again? Oh yea, Vergil, it’s Vergil’s fault.
Lady had introduced you to the other members of Devil May Cry; Dante (the owner-supposedly), Nero (Dante’s nephew), Nico (devil maker and crazy ass driver), Trish (serious lady-crush right there), and lastly, Vergil, Dante’s twin older brother, Nero’s father, and one hell of a pain in the ass. The meeting of each person was separated from situations over weeks to even a few months due to vast outbreaks of demons and devils appearing and screwing up everyone’s schedules.
You didn’t get meet Vergil until you literally fell into his arms while out hunting one day. That time was Dante’s fault, he tossed you, like a sack of potatoes in order to avoid being ganged up on by a demon that could separate itself into shadows of itself.
“Hey, Verg! Catch!” Dante yelled as he threw you towards his brother who just materialized from thin air.
The squeal you let go as you felt yourself falling, did hit the pitch that only dogs could hear. You were not proud of that.
“Careless.” Your eyes cracked open to see an exact replica of Dante but in blue holding you in one arm while glaring at his brother who was cackling loudly from his spot holding off the shadows with gunfire.
Before you could speak, you were promptly dropped onto your ass by the man who still refused to even spare you a glance.
“Fucking rude!” You muttered as you struggled to your feet on wobbly legs.
“Rich, coming from a banshee.” He easily retorted before drawing his katana.
“Banshee?!” Your shriek made him flinch at the octave of your voice. “Listen here, asshole. I appreciate you catching me, no fault on you because of that deranged idiot! But you have no right to insult someone!”
An odd ping of satisfaction filled you as the man took a step back in alarm as you suddenly appeared in front of him and poked him right in the chest, no fear in your body, only burning hot agitation. His eyes widened a fraction as a shade came at your back, but was promptly rendered back into nothingness with a snap of your fingers.
“What do you have to say for yourself?” You demanded as glowing golden orbs began to erupt from your body. Before he could speak, another shade appeared on your left. “I’m talking here, you bastard!” Swinging around, you clapped your hands and slammed them on the ground.
Dozens upon of dozens of blades appeared and slammed into every shade around the area, effectively pinning them onto the ground. Releasing another pulse of magic, the swords turned into beams of light before disintegrating each shade, leaving the original copy laying on the floor dazed and wounded. Before it could move, a singular blade, almost the size of Dante’s sword, came down upon its neck, killing it in one blow.
Wiping your brow, you went to stand but felt faint as your body started to fall back as your eyes closed.
Meeting Vergil was definitely in the books as a damn good memory, according to Dante who recalled how confused and nervous his twin was, holding a female, half his size in his arms, looking at his brother in alarm.
The second time you two crossed paths, you were hunting with Nero in Fortuna. The youngest Sparda descendant had called you asking if you were up from a little competition. Not being one to say no, you appeared outside of his home ready to get going. You were giving a cheerful goodbye to Kyrie, who was giggling at the sight of her boyfriend being dragged off by his hyper, short friend. The two of you ended up in Mitis Forest, back-to-back as the battle raged on for nearly two hours before a portal appeared.
Whipping around, you tossed your chakrams at the new entity only for the devil arms to be deflected and become embedded into the ground effortlessly.
“Seriously?” Nero called over to the figure who revealed themselves to be Vergil.
His father merely raised an eyebrow before plucking your chakram from the earth and tilting it in the light. The devil arm pulsed angrily at its mistreatment.
“I suggest you let that go, dude.” You said while ducking from a wild swing from Red Queen. “It tends to bite.”
Vergil’s face did a weird combination of annoyance as well as repulsion before doing as you suggested. With a shockwave of energy, the rings came back into your empty hands only to be sent back out to slice four demons in a figure-eight formation.
“Dude… that’s cheating,” Nero said lazily as he shot another demon off to the east somewhere.
“Please, you big baby. Don’t sulk because you’re losing at your own game.” His scoff made you grin brightly.
Another hour passed before everything stilled. Your back was against a tree as you tried to calm both your heavy pants and your racing heartbeat.
“There’s got to be a portal or some sort of summoning circle that keeps bringing these bitches back,” Nero whined, arms braced on Red Queen as he slumped forward.
“I can’t feel anything. No magic, other than you two and myself. This place is just cursed.” You answered pitifully.
Vergil spared you a glance as he wiped the gore off his blade.
“Yes, to answer your unspoken question. I can use magic. Genetic, a pact with a devil centuries ago made by my ancestor.” That drew the man’s attention. “No, I don’t know, and no I can’t go into details unless you can read blood memories.”
Nero chuckled as you answered his father’s wordless gaze, with your head tilted back, eyes closed, arms draped over your knees, looking completely exhausted.
The third meeting was less… dramatic, mostly. And several weeks after the forest fight.
You had just appeared outside the office when Dante came flying out its large double doors to land right in front of your feet with a grunt. At the doorway stood a very pissed-off Vergil whose eyes were glowing a bright blue.
“Hello to you two, too.” You drawled out cheekily.
“Hey, Spells. Whatcha need?” Dante said from his place on the ground, uncaring that he was literally looking up at you.
“Advice, and no, not you from, Dante, at least not this time.” You said before kneeling and patting the younger twin on the chest before standing and moving towards Vergil who regained his calm composure.
“What do you know of contracts?” His silver eyebrow shot up in question.
After being given a book, you found yourself with your head in your hands seriously thinking of braining yourself on the oak table in front of you.
“It can’t be that bad, right?” Dante called from behind you, face covered with a magazine.
“Worse, flamethrower. The magic counsel is going to guillotine my ass unless I make a contract with a legit demon hunting company. They have rules against free agent magicians.” You whined pitifully.
“Why, again? You are literally out there hunting; shouldn’t that be enough?”
“Balance, Dante.” Vergil supplied from his position against the bookshelves, eyes never leaving his own book.
“It’s also to make sure I don’t go rogue. Human sacrifice aint my shtick nor is ruthless enslavement of a populace.” Another sigh erupted from your lips as you slumped against the couch.
“Okay, easily fixed. We write a contract. DMC is a legit company, you’re our mage and another hunting associate. No biggie.” Despite the positivity dripping from Dante, it didn’t lift your mood.
“There are other qualifications that must be met in order to placate the council. Write a rough draft, we will go from there.” Vergil stated to you before disappearing upstairs, leaving both you and Dante to stare at his back in shock and confusion.
The fourth meeting was in front of the magic council a week later. Dante was with Vergil as owner representative while Vergil argued on your behalf as to why you were being contracted to Devil May Cry, Redgrave, and Mobile Branch. Your eyes were wide as he, calmly, but demanded that your actions would be scrutinized and if you stepped a toe out of line, i.e. reckless murder, you would be punished by his or Dante’s hands.
“You are thinking again.” A deep rumble from between your things stated before they latched onto your clit with a powerful suck. A keening whimper left you as your back arched off the bed at the pleasure that was coursing through your body.
“Just trying to figure out how you got between my thi-ah!” Vergil shut you effectively by thrusting two fingers deep inside of your drenched core.
“Does it matter, little witch?” He asked rhetorically before continuing to lick up any juices that were dripping from you.
You could not answer his question since your brain effectively shut down as your orgasm hit you like a damn freight train. Vergil groaned quietly as your fingers pulled at his hair as your legs tightened around his shoulders. You didn’t think much after that once he flipped you onto your stomach and proceeded to pound a relentless rhythm with his cock that claimed another orgasm from your exhausted body before his own release spilled over your thighs and ass.
The fifth encounter had you sitting on the floor of the office, a new spell book in your hands and a steaming cup of lemon and ginger tea next to you. It was only you and Vergil now as Lady and Trish dragged a complaining Dante out for a hunt someplace you couldn’t even remember the name of.
“Ferrum Vorticem?” You muttered out loud.
“Pardon?” Your head jerked up in surprise to see Vergil looking up over his book at you in question.
“Sorry, Gran’s spellbooks are confusing. She writes in Latin instead of English.” Your explanation merely made him raise both eyebrows in intrigue. “No, you can’t read it. There’s a spell on it that only familial relations can read its words, plus it’s warded against those of devil or demonic decent, no offense.”
As if possible, his eyebrows arched higher.
“I don’t know. I barely remember her; all I can recall is that these damn things have been in the family since our magical conception. Nero tried to take a book from me and his damn arm smacked him right in the face before dropping that book. I'd rather not risk you turning into a blue flower or worse a pile of ashes on the ground. I like living, thank you.”
Now the question that seemed to pass between everyone was how you were able to read the micro-expressions of Vergil who had the best resting bitch face known to the mortal realm. In your defense, you had no damn clue how you could, why you could, or even when you suddenly possessed this new power of yours. But Dante did love to tease you both over this to the point that Vergil either disappeared or grabbed his brother and the two started physically fighting, much to Dante’s twisted delight.
Just as you went back to your book, a shadow came over you. Jolting backward, you felt and saw that you were literally being caged in by Vergil who was tilting your head up (with one finger) to look into his eyes. A deep flush overcame your features as the book fell from your limp grasp to land on the floor with a loud clatter. Rendered motionless at the sight of him kneeling in front of you, your mouth open and closed uselessly at the unfairly hot and sinful display of regal power he oozed with his head cocked to the side.
Before either of you could utter a word or even move, the office doors slammed open as Dante remerged, covered in God knows what and smelling like he had been sewer diving. Vergil was gone from in front of you and back to his chair.
“I swear, those two are menaces. You good there, babe?” Dante stopped at the sight of you just sitting on the floor utterly flabbergasted.
“Blade Vortex,” Vergil uttered, drawing all eyes to him.
“What?” You didn’t even try to answer the younger twin as a strangled noise left you as you disappeared in a shower of golden sparkles, leaving the twins alone in the office.
The sixth meeting was well over two weeks later. It had taken Nero of all people to drag you from your apartment back to the office. The excuse you had given everyone was that you were busy learning and relearning spells and concentrating on your control since signing the contract. When in reality, the image of Vergil kneeling in front of you left you a horny, wet mess. Your brain refused to stop flashing the image no matter how many times you smashed your face against a hard object.
“Seriously, dude. You’ve got perfect control, I don’t get why you are so worried. It’s a boost in power, you don’t let that shit get to your head.” He supplied as he pushed you (roughly) through the open doors and into the gazes of the twins.
“What’s up, stranger?” Dante called lazily over his shoulder.
Your eyebrows scrunched together painfully as you witnessed a rather comical scene in front of you.
Vergil was holding Dante by his shirt, and Yamato pressed against his brother’s throat. The blue-dressed man was currently covered in some sort of powder mixed with what you hoped was red food coloring and not blood.
“Do I need to call for a morgue?” A soft upward tick to Vergil’s mouth made you flush as he had yet to release his brother nor remove his eyes from your form.
“Nah, Verggie is just pissed that the mixer blew up on him.” Breaking eye contact, you looked over to Dante who shrugged.
“So you were touching the kitchen appliances again?” Nero asked as he leaned against the couch, arms crossed.
“What? Yea. Was curious as to what was being made, smelt sweet.” Yamato moved a millimeter down, just grazing Dante’s throat, drawing a droplet of blood.
“For a halfling, literally fire incarnate, you really need to reign in your control of electric magnetic waves.” You stated cheekily as you rocked onto your heels, arms clasped behind your back.
“Aint nothing halfling about me, babe. All whole and true-“ Dante was dropped to the ground, hard, making you flinch slightly at the impact sound of his skull meeting wood. “Ow.”
“Oh please, as soon as your head hit the floor, it healed, can’t say much about your brain though.” Nero’s sass made you smile as his uncle easily flipped him the bird.
Vergil merely sheathed Yamato before turning on his heel and stalking away back into the kitchen. One last look sent your way, stilling you.
“So, what brings you visiting, Spells?” You turned back to Dante who had yet to remove himself from the floor.
You just pointed to Nero who was smirking.
“Ah, not even here to visit because you missed us. All it takes is Junior here… Rude.” Understanding and hearing the implication of the accusation made every hair on your body stand on end. Even Nero looked pissed off at the comment.
“You are an ass.” You muttered before spinning on your heel and marching out of the doors and disappearing in a shower of gold.
The seventh and eighth happenstances in all honesty weren’t even expected. Since Dante had decided to be a dick, you stayed away from all male members of DMC as much as you could, except for portals or summoning rituals that were being used. Trish and Lady, with the few times of Nico, managed to drag you out of your home in order to bond or hang out. Yet when it came to the guys, you mostly ignored them in protest. In the week time of your self-induced objection, you had seen Vergil once, and that was to give him a twelve-starred pendant to force-feed an Elder Devil’s in order to obliterate its magical barrier. The eighth meeting, well, that was not your fault, but strictly Vergil’s.
The only thing holding you up was literally Vergil’s left arm around your stomach as he grasped the ledge of a balcony swaying over a very deep and very dark pit. Blood trickled from your head and dripped down your nose and into that dark abyss.
This was supposed to be an easy open-and-shut case, find the cultist, shut down his ceremony then walk away. Nope, instead, Vergil went in, blade swinging which led the bad guy to literally self-combust, thus leading to your current predicament.
“Portal?” Hearing this single word dragged you back from the ringing in your ears.
“Can’t, brain not focused.” You whispered out as nausea twisted its way up your throat and settled on the back of your tongue.
Sighing, Vergil, in a moment of impressive strength, heaved you from his arm to his shoulder. His hand landed on the base of your ass, where it remained, unmoving.
“Close your eyes.” You gave the back of his head a weird look over your shoulder before doing as he said.
Despite only seeing darkness, your other senses felt as his body went from human form to his devilish form. Coldness filtered over your skin as the wind rushed around you. The squeak that left your throat was lost in the air as Vergil flew out of the crater and back onto solid ground. He gently, well as gently as he could, placed you onto your feet, but your legs didn’t cooperate and you nearly pitched forward toward the ground.
“Don’t Move.” Your body shivered at the command as you squeezed your eyes shut even tighter.
Vergil’s hands, though heavily clawed and encased with scale-like skin, clasped around your biceps and trailed down to your wrists. There he found how your right wrist was dislocated as well as several of your fingers on each hand. Sighing through his nose, he knelt so that he was almost eye-level with you.
“Open your eyes.” You did as he said. The sclera around your right eye was already blood red, from the trauma of the explosion. “Can you heal your eye?”
“Yes.” You said exhaustedly. “But not my hands.” He followed your gaze down to your bloody and dislocated hands.
Taking hold of your waist, he ripped off your belt, which was already torn, to begin with, and placed it at your mouth. Blinking dumbly, your lips separated as he placed the faux leather on your teeth and closed your jaw around the item with a finger underneath your chin.
“This will hurt.” Well, he hadn’t been lying, somewhere between fingers two and three, you blacked out, only to be brought back to consciousness when something heavy but warm was wrapped around your body.
“Rest.” He said soothingly before tucking your head into his neck.
The ninth meeting was you waking up in an unfamiliar room, surrounded by bookshelves. The bed you were on was comfortable, but it wasn’t your bed. Sitting up, the sheets, a deep silky blue, fell off your form, revealing that you were in an oversized black button-up shirt that showed off your cleavage since three of the buttons weren’t closed.
Loud arguing made you turn your head to the door in confusion.
“So what? You cause the explosion, bring her back, half dead, and the best you can say is that it was an ‘unplanned happenstance’?!” Lady’s voice was loud and very heated.
Vergil’s response was softer and you couldn’t hear it.
“Nu-uh! Bullshit and you know it! She isn’t a damn demi-god! She heals at the same factor as a human, her magical healing drains everything in her body!” Score one for Lady, she really was sticking it to Vergil.
Biting your lip, you removed yourself from the bed and limped to the door. As much as it was entertaining, in a sick way, of the eldest twin getting his ass handed to him by a woman half his size, you kind of felt bad for him. Taking a breath, you left the room and hobbled your way down the hall and struggled down the steps until you stood at the base of the stairs watching everything unfold.
Nero was being held back by Dante, which looked challenging as the young man was shifting in and out of human and devil stances. Trish had her arms crossed under her chest glaring at Dante who was glaring at Lady. The petite raven-haired woman had her finger in Vergil’s face who was leaning away from her ire.
“We good?” You croaked out, stilling every person in the room. Five pairs of eyes landed on your scantily dressed form in shock, wonder, and disbelief. “What the hell are you looking at? I’m not dead… much.”
All hell did break loose. In the end, Dante suffered two broken ribs from a good elbow from Nero. Trish held back Lady from clocking Vergil in the face. You were smothered into Nero’s chest by a strong, but a careful hug. And Vergil merely raised an eyebrow as you had to poke his son in the stomach multiple times to get him to release you. From the corner of your eye, you could see him trailing his gaze up and down your body multiple times before settling on the flashes of skin partially obscured by Nero…
The tenth time you met Vergil, well that was when the damn dam fell apart. That time was your fault, entirely. (Though you would still blame Vergil for that in the end, much to his chagrin.)
You were to finish your recovery at your own home under strict instructions from Lady and Trish. No hunting, no magic, nothing, just rest. That had been boring. Three days in, you broke your confines and teleported to the office.
But you messed up your trajectory, horribly.
You landed on the man’s lap, in his bedroom.
Saying you were surprised was an understatement. His disbelief was in the form of Yamato being forced under your chin as the world finally came into focus around you.
Several seconds of motionlessness ticked on before you remembered you could breathe. Casually flicking the katana away with your index finger, you ignored the stinging sensation as it sliced through the side of your digit to continue to hold his gaze with your own.
“Have you no shame?” His words caressed your body, making you stifle a shiver threatening to slide down your spine.
“What can I say? I’m attracted to danger.” Your haughty words and crass implications led you to where you were moments earlier.
Vergil between your thighs, eating you like you were the last and best meal he had in months, or rather years.
Totally all Vergil’s fault.
The eleventh meeting was by far your favorite. At this point, it wasn’t even a meeting, you were busy getting your insides rearranged by riding on Vergil’s lap. His mouth was hot against your neck, biting and sucking on any skin he could get to. One of your hands was trapped in his hair, the other, grasping his bicep, holding on for dear life as he continued to set a punishing pace inside of you. Your body was squeezing and pulsating around his cock as you moaned unashamed and loudly when his fingers began to rub and pinch your clit. Neither of you even heard the bedroom door opening or even sensed the presence of another being.
“Bro, I get it, porn is great- MY EYES!” Dante screamed as he slammed the bedroom door behind him as he ran out of the room.
A breathless laugh escaped you as Vergil just fell onto the bed, exasperated, still buried balls deep inside of you.
“My eyes! I did not need to see all of that!” Hearing the wails of his younger brother didn’t even kill the mood as your hips were guided to continue to pace that was so rudely interrupted earlier.
In the end, you liked to place the blame on Vergil but he always retorts that it was your fault, that you literally fell on top of him not once, but twice. Thus leading everything. Dante argues that his eyes never recovered and he needed surgery for his vision.