Chapter Text
“We haven’t had three real dates!” You protested, laughing at the knowledge that you weren’t going to be strong enough to deny him. Or yourself, for that matter.
⸺Teacup
“Might controls everything. And without strength you cannot protect anything. Let alone yourself.”
⸺Vergil
“This chapter is the end of Accidentally in Love, but it doesn’t have to be the end of Teacup and Vergil… I plan to do continuation one-shots.”
⸺HotLiarhazard
He shuffled into your bedroom, looking rather penguin-like, more than a little encumbered by your weight and also the silver jumpsuit that kept falling off him and you worried that he would be offended by the slight mess in your room. Of course, you had seen the clothing and books scattered around his room almost haphazardly and learned that he wasn’t quite the OCD neat freak that you thought he would be, so maybe—
“Teacup, you live like this?” He asked and you felt your little bit of hope dissipate in the wind. You unwrapped your arms from around his muscular neck to peek around the room. It was exactly as you’d left it: clothes tossed in the direction of the hamper, mugs (not teacups) strewn across your mismatched bedside tables, tissues wadded and lying across every available surface. Various empty snack packages added to the clutter and you hoped that there might be a few more chocolates in that one package. It wasn’t normally this bad, you had just been incredibly sad. Irredeemably sad. All because of him, so really, all this blessed mess? His fault. This beautiful man holding you close to his rapidly beating heart and burning chest with a nearly awed, extremely horrified look on his face. Well, ‘extremely’ was probably too strong of a word for Vergil—his face remained closer to neutrality than any significant emotion. But that was the fun of Vergil: experiencing new things with him, watching him closely for the minute changes that would reveal how he felt in the moment. His difficult nature, his closed off face with its heavy current of underlying emotion was why you loved him terribly. ‘Room’ actually might be a bit of a misnomer; depression cave? Sadness nest? Sadnest, was that anything? You’d workshop it later. “Vergil.”
You cupped his cheek and turned his horrified face from the numerous empty tubs of ice cream and chip bags, the mountains of empty candy boxes and tissue boxes that were totally the result of watching something sad and not How to Train Your Dragon and regretting that you’d broken ties with Vergil before seeing what his bitchin’ wings could do. Totally. You held his face in your hand, forcing his shocked and appalled eyes from the mess and into yours. You spoke slowly, compellingly. “I need you to leave me alone in here for a minute or two.”
He stared into your eyes for a few moments and then back at the obvious signs that you were mentally unwell. Then back at you with thinned lips. “No.”
“Thank you Ver—“ Wait. “No?” You asked.
“No.” He stated firmly, his arms tightening around you. “I have been without you for long enough.” He grimaced. “Even if it means that we are surrounded by trash.” He shuffled through the mess, kicking ice cream tubs aside with his foot before he reached the bed.
“Verg, I just need a second or two to tidy up.” You pleaded, hoping he wouldn’t set you down on the bed. You weren’t totally sure, but you thought that you might have left a tub of ice cream on the bed. Not full or old! That would be disgusting. Of course, it was also disgusting that it was still in your bed instead of the trashcan, but you couldn’t be helped; you had just been through a break-up/not-break-up. Cleaning up the depression binge was a little more than you had been able to manage the past couple weeks. It really wouldn’t be that bad; there was probably a tablespoon of soupy, chocolatey syrup left in the bottom of one container. You weren’t keen on landing right on top of it. Problem was that you couldn’t tell him not to set you there because you didn’t know where you’d left it. There was a lump in your blanket that was suspiciously tub shaped, though.
“No. I refuse to allow us to get further behind.” He insisted, leaning over with your body approaching your blankets with concerning speed. You squeezed your eyes shut as you braced for impact with the tub. Your back hit the bedsheets with a soft puff of sound. You hesitantly opened your eye crack, letting out a sigh of relief when you saw that he avoided setting you on the blankets. You were about to kick your blankets off, trying to cover your tracks (and mess), but Vergil was sexy. Er. He was faster.
His hands bracketed your rib cage, supporting his weight partially as he hovered over you. His eyes were hot, molten silver as he stared at you. His lips were pink from your shared kisses and shiny from his licking them a moment earlier. He’s going to have such chapped lips, you thought dazedly as you stared at his stupidly pretty face. I think I can share my chapstick.
He smirked, seeing the haze spread in your eyes, and he knew that you were ensnared in his grip. He leaned down to capture your lips in addition to your gaze, bringing his knee to the mattress to help support more of his weight.
Right onto your blanket and cracking open the tub of ice cream, the syrup leaking out of your blanket and staining the knee of his silver jumpsuit. The haziness in your vision cleared slightly as a grin spread across your lips when he froze. Then he brought his fingers to the bridge of his nose and squeezed, letting out a familiarly exasperated sigh. You felt sheepish when he took his fingers from his face and gave you a pouty glare. You shrugged at him.
“Don’t give me that; I told you to give me some time to clean up.” Your tone was such that a wagging finger would not be inappropriate. You crossed your arms and gave him a smug look. Well, as smug as you could get when you were surrounded by trash and also being smothered by a giant hunk of a man. He sighed again and removed his fingers from his nose. He shifted and you watched as he began getting chocolate ice cream goop all over everywhere.
“Verg, you’ve got chocolate all over your knee. It’s getting on my covers, Verg!” You pointed at the quickly spreading chocolate stain, putting both hands to your eyes in frustration when he kept shifting on his knees, trying and failing to keep it off the bed.
“Why does this seem to always happen?” He grumbled irritably, standing and pulling the thick comforter and sheets with the added modern art style design of Vergil-Knee off your bed and tossing it to the side along with all your other dirty clothes. You couldn’t help but laugh a little at his pouting face. He was right; whenever he tried to seem cool or anything like that, it was like something got in the way and killed his suave vibe. “I apologize, Teacup. They will likely stain.”
He did not return to your bed and just stood there awkwardly. You realized it was because he didn’t want to stain your mattress as well. Adorable, awkward and considerate. Exactly how you liked your grumpy Vergills.
You shrugged. “Those needed washing anyway.” You stood next to him and bent to touch your finger to his knee. “This’ll need washing as well.” You said.
“I will be burning this spandex monstrosity post-haste.” He said quickly, but with enough loathing for the article of clothing that you laughed.
“Hopefully you won’t be in it.”
“Of course, my love.” Sweet, sugary Sparda he just called you his love. You could act cool about the pet name. You felt a dopey grin spread across your face and you were pretty sure that your efforts were wasted. “I will be far too busy being naked in your bed; your plot will have come to fruition.” Hold up.
“Hold up, Verg.” You put your hands on your hips and lovingly glared at him. “You.” You pointed at him with force and his eyes crossed as they went to the tip of your finger. “You carried me in here.” You crossed your arms and his eyes went to the deeper cleavage that formed when you definitely did not push them together a little bit. “If anything, this is your evil dastardly plot to get at this maiden’s goodies.”
He shook his head with faux sadness, pulling at the spandex and turning his back to you so all you could see of his efforts was one firm buttcheek. The dimple in his buttcheek didn’t even jiggle when the suit snapped against him when he let go. Fuck. You hoped that he’d carry the conversation for a little while because you were kind of drooling.
“Truly, you were very devious.” He sighed and had to bend a little to step out of the pant legs, leaving him totally naked. You couldn’t even appreciate more than his pert ass fully because his damned muscled back was toward you.
“Are you ignoring me?” You weren’t proud to say that it took you a couple seconds to rearrange your thoughts with how scattered they became from his thick thighs, the muscles stretching and rolling underneath his skin becomingly. It made you think about how they’d look supported his body as he rutted into you, grunting softly with each sawing motion. He’d make it look effortless, ignoring any burning in his triceps and his thighs to focus on increasing the burn in your spread ones, wrapped firmly around his waist and—
“I suppose that I will grant your wish.” Vergil said, interrupting your filthy thoughts with hopefully filthy actions. You felt pretty confident that he would, since he was giving you that shitty gorgeous dimpled smile, clearly ignoring you. You wanted to strangle the man you loved… Maybe after you pinned him down and rode him until he broke, demanding you to let him cum, only for you to pull off him out of range to build his frustration up until he started sweetly begging. Your eyelashes fluttered when you thought about how pretty his desperate voice would be as he begged directly below you.
He moved quickly and flopped on your bare bed, holding the silvery jumpsuit to his groin, hiding the treasure that lay beneath fucker, but was hinted at by the stretch of the fabric as something underneath it struggled to be freed. He gave you a come-hither look and you’d be damned if you didn’t follow. “Well, Teacup? I am in your bed…” He removed his hand from suppressing the shiny, silvery fabric and you blinked when it bobbed up and erected a mighty tent, fit for a king. A demon king? A very pretty demon king with pink cheeks that betrayed his confident demeanor.
“And I am naked.” He spread his arms to rest on your headboard and tilted his jaw back slightly, lifting his knee in the same motion which left him looking like a concubine in desperate need of the kings favor otherwise that concubine would be voted out of the harem. You looked at his rather impressive uhhhh, staff, and figured this concubine should just use her immunity token since it was taking up so much space. Also your metaphor got away from you, but that could be excused since Vergil was being a bit of a meta-whore. “So ravish me as you had planned, my love.”
He leveled those damned silver eyes on you and his appealingly pink tongue poked out to moisten his lips. You wanted to throw aside your bathrobe, pull a real, “GranDmuh, it’s mE, AhNuHsTaSiA,” type show for him and crawl over those fucking beautiful slender thighs until you straddled his hips and squeezed him until those damn eyes were staring at you with the kind of desire you felt bubbling in your gut. You wanted to trail your fingers along the lines and curves of his pectorals and abdominals with your fingers and then follow up with your tongue, going lower and lower until his head was thrown back and he choked on the sound of his own moans. That would sure teach him to be such a sexy asshole.
You didn’t do that though, because little shits don’t get rewards.
“Awww, Verg. You called me ‘my love’…” His eyes softened and his cheeks colored a soft rose.
“I did.” He reaffirmed with that sweet and gentle voice, the one that he only ever seemed to use with you. Your hands went to your chest, crossing just over your heart as your knees dipped a little, like the force of your warm fuzzies made them weak. He shared that dimpled smile with you, breaking his sexy persona for a moment to share the Vergil only you were allowed to see, totally unaware of the devastation that you were about to rain upon his unassuming form.
“Verg... That’s gay.”
His smile dropped off his face immediately, comically even. He blinked once to clear his thoughts and clearly needed a second round because he did it twice. Then he squeezed his eyes shut, pinching at the bridge of his nose and fully abandoned his handsome and sexy concubine energy. You could visibly watch him count to ten, his lips barely forming the numbers as you giggled… Not maniacally. Just… Enthusiastically.
“Teacup,” Vergil began, still squeezing the bridge of his nose, his eyes clenched shut tight as if he’d eaten a whole lemon and then followed it up with a salt chaser. You calmed your giggles down enough to present a somewhat reasonable and professional appearance. Well. Professional enough for someone with a horny half-demon in your bed while only a bathrobe shielded you from having his undivided attention. He motioned for you to come closer. You were hesitant; it couldn’t be more obvious that he wanted revenge. Or that you already had his attention. You hoped that he would make it the sexy kind of revenge, but he wasn’t using that undeniably irresistible smirk on you, so you weren’t too confident. Whatever; you were a competent demon hunter. You could handle a sexually frustrated half-demon who you just called gay… Maybe.
“Vergil.” He motioned again and you dragged your feet as you moved over, gasping when he dragged you onto his lap, your hot core pressing against his scalding dick with only your robe between the two of you. You nearly drooled at how good he felt against you, your neck muscles becoming lax and your eyelids struggling to stay open. Yay! Sexy time! His hands went to your cheeks, his thumbs brushing across the apple gently. Then he squeezed down, pinching them. “Gack!” No, not sexy!
“How is it that I find you so desirable when you are not trying to entice me, and now that you and I are being amorous I find you just absolutely—“ His frustrated and exasperated expression made you want to laugh if you weren’t caught in the mousetrap of his fingers—his brows were down and his mouth was between a smile and a grimace. Altogether one of the most amusing and cutest expressions that you’d seen on Vergil yet. “Infuriating.”
“I’m sorry~” You practically bleated, your eyes watering slightly from the pinch and the r’s in sorry extended and repeated in an impressive whine. He let go with a sigh and you rubbed your poor cheek meat after he’d let go, sitting up and looking you in the eye sternly.
“Do you truly not wish to do this right now, Teacup?” He looked…? It was hard to say, but you would guess uncertain? It was an expression that you were pretty sure that Vergil didn’t make very often since he was Mister ‘There is no time to hesitate.’ He looked away, focusing on one of the dips in your mattress and picking at a loose thread there. “Or…” He scowled at that loose thread, rolling it up into a little pill. “Is it that… You merely do not wish to do this at all?”
His eyes met yours reluctantly, the silver dulling as he formed those wonderfully horrible and pathetic puppy eyes. Not want to have sex with him at all? What kind of smack was he croking? Of course you wanted him. You had wanted to wait, but seeing his adorable self try clumsily to seduce you was really hitting some buttons for you. There was something about having the rather powerful half-demon son of the damn deity of your home island’s religion look at you with sinfully heated eyes, wanting you nearly as much as you wanted him, trying so hard to get you to fall into bed with him when everything else came naturally. Or maybe it was just seeing his beautiful naked body that was making your thighs wet with slick. Hard to say. You weren’t a picky person, so you could say both. Both was good.
“Verg, no, I want you.” He didn’t look like he believed you, not after all the teasing you’d done. Ooh, he’d look so pretty with his pale skin covered in pretty pink after you teased him in a much different way. You had to shake the thought from your head and get back in the game. You mentally rolled up your sleeves and decided that you’d prove it to him.
You cupped his cheek, holding his face still. You met his silver eyes and he watched you tilt his jaw just so and lean forward, caressing his lips with yours. Very different from your hot and heavy kisses of earlier, but just as good. No, they were better because you were putting every ounce of love that you felt for the giant ridiculous man into the touches. He was hesitant in his response, clearly still a little disbelieving that you did, in fact, want him as much as he wanted you. Being perfectly honest, you had thrown out the no tap ass rule when you invited him to come up. You knew that this was where the afternoon was going. Maybe he was right and you were a little devious.
“Vergil…” You whispered against his lips, your eyes were shut but you could feel his shudder when you called his name in that breathy gasp. He began responding to your soft touches, your brushes, moving his hands to your hips and gripping them. He squeezed your soft hips, his thumb brushing across you iliac crest through your robe. He really liked your curves under his hands, how they fell into his palm so easily. He didn’t believe in following fate’s design, but just this once, he’d fully agree if someone told him that you were made just for him. If some god really did form you from clay and sned you his way, to be held and treated as he liked, he would send a bountiful offering to that god at his earliest convenience. It couldn’t be now, though, because he was tasting the most perfect lips to ever be formed.
Despite just learning how to kiss, Vergil knew what he liked. He enjoyed your sweet gentle kisses, but he much preferred the hard and desperate kisses, the hot and heavy ones that showed him just how desperate you were for him. Like you were now and like he was in return. You pulled away, forcing him to look at you, at your beautiful earnest eyes. “I want you. Forever and for always.”
His eyes flicked between yours, losing the uncertainty with every pass they made until he was your confident and grumpy Vergills again. You felt his big, warm hand cup your cheek and he took over the kiss, deepening it as he liked, yet keeping everything tender and gentle and loving. You just loved the way that he compromised. He directed you to your back, supporting his weight on one hand beside you and stroking your cheek with the other, not once breaking your connection.
He really had gotten good at kissing, leaving you gasping even with the slow and sweet pace, leaving your lips to trail little kisses along your jaw and down your neck, nipping a teasing mark into your collarbone cheekily. You yelped when you felt the sting and you lightly smacked his shoulder, knowing that he’d left a bruise there. He only looked up at you and grinned his naughty dimpled smile. You gave him a stern look that meant nothing because the little bastard knew that all he had to do was flash those dimples and you were putty in his hands. Putty, damn it.
He spread your bathrobe, more fully this time, baring your breasts to his enraptured eyes. You watched him swallow hard, his Adam’s apple bobbing appealingly in his throat. You wanted to take a bite of that forbidden fruit. Show Vergil that he wasn’t the only fan of apples in this apartment. Or the only one with teeth. In a minute.
His hands were shaking, trembling with anticipation. You weren’t sure why he would be nervous—he was good at everything, it seemed. Regardless, you would take pity on the poor beautiful man. You took his hands in yours, giving each knuckle a kiss and watching his eyes soften as you did, before moving his hands confidently to your breasts, sighing and arching your back when those callused palms brushed across your peaked nipples. The breath that he inhaled was just as tremulous as his hands and you could feel his excitement grow literally.
“Vergil…” You sighed, catching his eyes and communicating with yours that you needed him to touch you, any way that he wanted, any day that he wanted. You tried to communicate that you were his.
You weren’t sure if you were able to activate your latent telepathic powers since you received nothing of confirmation but a kiss against your chest where your heart beat rapidly in your chest. Then he continued kissing your chest, tracing the curve of your breast with those pretty lips. He could feel your pulse against his lips, delighting and savoring how it jumped with every brush of his fingers against you, with every caress of his lips to your skin. He felt powerful and weak in the same moment; powerful because your heart only pounded like this around him, when only he was touching you. He was the cause to this effect and he loved it. He felt weak, though, because you caused a similar reaction in him. Yet… He savored this vulnerability, knowing that you’d never take advantage of it.
“Please, Teacup…” He whispered, his lips hovering over your nipple, a hair’s breadth away. “Please tell me how you want me to touch you.” He rubbed his lip against you, just the tip of his tongue poking out the barest to graze your pebbled peak, leaving it slick and chilled from the ambient temperature. He rolled his hips against yours in the same motion, his firm dick against your sensitive parts making you shudder. You could only drip in response to the sensation of that thick, hot, long rod against you.
You immediately missed the heat of his tongue, the roll of his hips. “Tell me how to pleasure you.” He whispered, his stupid slightly nasally, wholly sexy voice earnest and low and pleading.
“Vergil, I need…” You brought your hands to his head, pushing against him slightly further toward your breast, a low moan escaping you when his hot mouth enveloped your sensitive bud. You wiggled and whined when you felt him against you, hot and wet but unmoving. Fucker was teasing you now. Bastard. Asshole.
“Vergil, you suck.” You complained and then felt his lips spread against you. It was funny how you could tell when he was giving you his patented shit-eating smirk just from feel alone. There was a moment where you thought that he’d be even more of a butthead and leave you aching and wanting, but then—A harsh suck at your nipple had you gripping him by the hair, a quiet cry of surprise and satisfaction leaving your throat as your body trembled under him. Heat shot directly to your rapidly swelling clit, not only from his hot, slick mouth at your breast, but at the rapid and messy and wanting slurping sounds that he kept making.
Having Vergil play with your nipples was totally different than anyone else—his mouth was just hotter than a normal human, but that was to be expected. What you hadn’t expected was the fact that his tongue was rough. Deliciously rough. You wondered if he had modified taste buds like a cat to have those microscopic barbs, and then you wondered if he could discern tastes that you as a human couldn’t. Then you wondered where those came from because his tongue had been smooth when it was in your mouth; was he able to lift them at will? Then you didn’t wonder anything at all because you learned that he had very sharp teeth, even in this form.
You moaned as you felt little pinpricks of sensation against your bud as he gently held them between his teeth, clamping them down as he swirled his tongue across the swollen nubs. You whined and tightened your grip in his hair, practically yanking it from his scalp. He didn’t seem to mind—on the contrary, you felt the vibration of his moan around your aching bud. He liked how you held him to you, your grip tight enough that he feared losing hair. He suckled just a little harder, putting a little more pressure behind his teeth, just to see what you would do. You arched your back with a wordless moan toward his lips, nearly removing yourself from the mattress and his eyes fluttered at the pleasure of seeing how responsive you were to his touch, to his tongue and teeth. He couldn’t wait to see you split upon his cock. Would you have words for him then?
“V-Vergil!” You gasped, no air behind the words. He smirked. He had you breathless already? So good, so responsive. His cock twitched against you in anticipation of spreading you on it, hearing how he was going to move in you so hard, so deep that you wouldn’t be able to get air back into your lungs. Then he’d see how you’d sound screaming his name breathlessly.
He popped off your swollen, reddened, sore nipple and languidly swirled his tongue around the other, dedicated to giving each the proper attention. He needed to give each the proper attention, worship your body that way that he’s been wanting to since you came into his bedroom in just his fucking t-shirt. Though, now that he’s thinking about it, perhaps this desire began when you threw him to the ground and covered his body with yours. Regardless, he was repaying the favor, rubbing his body against yours, covering you completely with his scent. You creaked your eyelids open and looked down at him, throwing your head back and closing them again when you saw that his eyes were focused on your face, a tiny smirk on his lips, clearly being a naughty little shit as he continued spinning heat into your core with only his talented mouth. If he looked that good just at your chest, you wondered at how good he’d look between your legs. You felt a strong wave a slick coat your naked thighs the moment after you pictured it, groaning softly and hoping that would be something you’d get to see before the night’s end. You were kind of glad that he didn’t allow you to wait until a later date—you would have been wearing adorable panties and you would have ruined them with the amount of fluids that were currently coating your thighs, leaving the entire room musky and reeking with the scent of your desire. Vergil’s eyes were half-lidded, but you could see his pupil’s were blown wide with desire. You knew that your eyes were equally dark.
“All that, just from a little stimulation?” He murmured teasingly, pulling away from your chest, his hand tweaking your already sore nipple, mixing a little pain with your deep wells of pleasure and drawing a little whine from your throat. “This might be over more quickly than I had imagined.” He mused, offending you immensely but also turning you on just a little more with how confident his sexy voice sounded.
You propped yourself on your elbows and lifted an incredulous brow at him. “You’re confident, aren’t you, Verg?” He returned your quirked eyebrow. He was clearly questioning your sanity by giving him that kind of challenge when there was a wet spot beneath you from your slick just from him playing with your tits. It didn’t help that he was propping himself up by the elbows and his cleavage was very visible from your position. You wanted to play with his tits~
When you talked back to him like that, in your pretty breathless voice and giving him a challenge with your pleasure on the line? How could he ever hope to refuse? He could not. He was putty in your hands. Putty. He maintained eye contact as he sneaked his hand to you clit, tweaking it and making you keen.
You threw your head back, your skull bouncing once on the mattress as you shivered from the sudden and fierce pleasure from his touch. You could have defended your intense reaction by saying that it had been a while for you, that you’d been too busy to release your pent up tension, but those would all be lies—Vergil’s fingers were callused and talented, his thumb pressing firmly into your clit to draw a loud cry from you and then it danced slow circles around the swollen, slick bud. He alternated between light, teasing touches and firm circles that made you see stars. “Ah, ah! Fuck, Vergil!” You cried and reached above you, to the side, anywhere for something to grasp, something to anchor you as his ministrations drove you out of your damn mind.
“Hm?” He murmured softly. “Yes, love?” Sinful Sparda, he called you his love again. You were so uncool about it, too. That was to be expected though because his sexy voice went straight to your cunt, making you clench around nothing. He didn’t even sound like he was having sex! He sounded like he was in your shitty kitchen and cleaning, turning with a hand towel in a glass answering your question. And fuck if the domestic image didn’t get you off, too.
“Vergil,” you whined, your hands tangling themselves in his slicked back hair that was quickly becoming messy. “Vergil, I want to play with your ti~its! I want to suck your di~ick! I want you to fuck me~!” You whined and tugged at his pretty silver hair. To your extreme irritation, he didn’t immediately give into your whining. Instead, you felt resistance against your pulling as he shifted lower on the bed until you felt his breaths against your mons.
“But my love,” He began, still talking like he wasn’t affected by you at all. “I have just played with your ti~its. Now I wish to eat you ou~ut. Then, when I am satisfied by how utterly wrecked you are, then I will fuck you~” He informed you, teasingly mocking you by using your exact same whining tone that was mixed with his own dryly amused tone. You allowed a pause. You could adhere to this itinerary. You fell back to the mattress and waved an imperial arm.
“Your love agrees with this plan, but!” You lifted a single finger in a ‘wait’ motion. Then you pointed it at him. “Before this evening ends, I will be playing with those perfect tits.” You lifted your head just enough to glare at him. He merely looked amused and also a little infatuated. “You can bet on that.” He rolled his eyes, but he had a smile on his face.
“Yes, love.” He quirked a brow. “Now, my empress, may I continue?” He asked, putting on a noticeably fake air of formality. You waved your arm again.
“Proceed, pretty concubine.” You heard what sounded suspiciously like a muffled, snorted laugh and then felt a kiss pressed to your mons, making you shiver in anticipation. You curled your legs up on either side of him, yelping when his hands went underneath your knees to lift them to his broad shoulders. You felt a little like a pretzel when he leaned forward, bending you a little more and testing your flexibility. But like a sexy pretzel. One that had Vergil’s tongue mapping it’s inside curves and making soft, wonderful sounds at the salty flavor.
Your hands shook in his hair and you made a quiet almost squeaking sound when he wrapped his lips around your clit to give an experimental suck. The sensation of your hands gripping his hair at the roots, pulling him as close to your pretty pussy as possible went straight to his erect cock, making it burdened just a little more with how swollen it became, how aching it felt. He knew that you and he had danced around this for too long, had wanted to taste the other and experience each other’s body’s in ways that only you and he could. But even as he ached and longed to cast aside this foreplay and bury himself deep inside you, he wanted to feel your thighs clench around his head as he brought you to orgasm, one after another, until you were totally limp under his tongue.
He could almost feel the flavor of your desperation on his tongue, the way that you rolled your clit harder onto his mouth and your thighs quivered around his ears. Your flavor matched his exacting tastes. He couldn’t get enough; he swirled his tongue around your clit, suckled hard on the little bud, dipped his tongue inside to run along your sweet, gripping walls, and caressed your slick folds that just kept dripping more and more sweet nectar on his tongue. Still he couldn’t get enough of your flavor in him, couldn’t gather enough from your slippery cunt to register it permanently in his memory. He supposed that he would merely have to settle for tasting you as often as possible. He couldn’t find it in himself to accept anything less and he didn’t find it in himself to be dissatisfied at all with that decision.
You were so fucking close that your clit felt like it was buzzing, though that could still be Vergil who kept making contented sounds against your pussy with every flick of his damned sinful tongue. You were burning, writhing and whimpering. It was almost perfection—you just needed something, anything of him inside you and stretching you out. You wiggled on his face, his soft murmurs turning disgruntled when he wasn’t able to eat you at his leisure in exactly the position that he wanted you in. Next time, he was tying you up. “Vergil,” you breathed. “I need…?” You trembled and ground down on the delicious tongue that he stuck into your cunt. It wasn’t like any tongue you’d had inside you before; not even his. It was somehow longer than before, somehow thicker. Sacrilegious Sparda, it felt so good, so amazing.
He pulled his tongue out and you counted the seconds for it to make its egress. It shouldn’t take a normal human tongue three seconds to leave a pussy. Of course, a normal tongue doesn’t have ridges, either. Call my man Ruffles because he has ridges. Then you processed your pleasure-delirious thought and giggled. Nah, he couldn’t be Ruffles because he gets Lay’d all over my bed.
You heard a soft smack of a wet tongue on messy lips. You lifted your head just enough to see Vergil’s long, blue and glowing tongue lick the shiny juices on his face before slithering back into his mouth and returning to its pretty pink color. He quirked a brow at your laughter. “Am I doing something that is tickling you?” He questioned. You shook your head and repeated your thought for him. He closed his eyes and looked nearly as resigned as before. He was seconds away from pinching the bridge of his nose, you knew it. Seconds. “Then it appears that I am doing this wrong.” He finally said.
“What!” Your brows rose with your volume. “No, Vergil, you’re doing amazing, sweetie. I just… It felt so good that I almost couldn’t think.” He adjusted his grip on your thighs and pulled your body closer to his waiting mouth. You gasped as you slid across the bare mattress.
“And those are the thoughts that you have when you are not thinking?”
“Well… Yes.” He just shook his head, donning a fond if exasperated smile.
“It seems that I must change my method.” He pressed a kiss to your clit and then pulled back once he felt you shiver. “’Almost’ is not the same as ‘not thinking.’ My intent is for you to be speechless with pleasure.” You leveled suspicious eyes on his pretty silver ones.
“Speechless, huh? Is that because you find my jokes so funny that you don’t want to laugh while eating me out?” He broke eye contact, his smile turning to the dimpled smile that you knew was about to precede naughtiness. “Verg?” You lifted your upper body with your elbows. “Verg, you aren’t saying anything. You like my shitty jokes, don’t you?” He didn’t answer you for another few moments, giving you the distinct impression that he did not enjoy your shitty jokes.
“Yes, my love, your jokes are wonderful and a substantial part of the reason why I adore you so.” He said quickly in a carefully toneless voice. You scowled at him. The lying little shit.
“Well I’ll have you know that my jokes are very popular. People love my sense of humor.” You huffed with an air of indignation. You heard a little scoff down below, your jaw dropping in offense. “They are! People do!” Yeah, this was kind of putting you out of your amorous mood—there was nothing quite like being told that you were only liked because you were incredibly, mind-meltingly hot and your sense of humor and personality had nothing to do with his attraction to you. He didn’t say it like that, but you knew that’s how he felt. “Verg, I can’t believe you only like me for my hot body.”
He could only roll his eyes at your continued complaints before his face broke into a broad smile. Despite your foolishness, despite his intolerance for ridiculousness, he couldn’t help but be amused by your irritated grumbles regarding how shallow he was to only desire you because of your ‘sweet ass and bitchin’ titties.’ Pure foolishness—he was attracted to strength and willpower. That being said, he was a leg man through and through.
“And honestly I doubt that I should trust your sense of humor, mister ‘Mr. Vergil was my father,’ shitty joke having muscular ass, why I—“ And then you were cut off because he attached his lips to your clit and sucked hard.
You threw your head back, unable to prevent the reaction as his movements lost their tentativeness and he ate you out like a man possessed. Your hands buried themselves in his hair, gripping hard as you rode out everything he gave you, every slurp, lick and tongue-fuck that he’d tested on you minutes before culminating in a direct assault on your core until you felt about to break. Motherfucker. He was such a sly dog, watching you closely, seeing what you liked and then forming a combo that just kept you climbing higher and higher until your legs were curled around his pretty head, haloed with the soft gray hair that you kept pulling at to clutch him closer to your cunt. You couldn’t even complain at him because the only thing you could do was moan and whimper and cry out his name. You were moments, just moments before that coil inside you snapped.
“Vergil, please, I’m so, so, so, so so sosososososo so!!” Your cries continued even as his fingertips dug into the flesh of your hips and left pretty blue bruises, thrusting his partially triggered tongue into your cunt rapidly and matching the almost frantic circles and taps from his thumb into your clit until you were cumming all over his gorgeously smug face. Your thighs tightened around his ears and distantly you were concerned about seriously hurting him by squeezing him so hard, but you also heard a ragged moan from deep in his chest so you rode his tongue until the overwhelming burning and clenching sensation began fading until you were merely a fucked out, blissful puddle underneath him.
Your whole body trembled from the force of your orgasm, your muscles weak after such criminal pleasure. Your arms flopped to your sides and your legs fell to rest on Vergil’s shoulders, your body still twitching because the little fucker wasn’t happy with making you cum so hard you saw stars and perhaps little tweeting birds flying around your head—he seemed to want to force you into overstimulated because he languidly licked the cum from your pussy, purring and making sweet contented hums against your dripping folds and swollen clit.
“V-Verg…” You whispered and weakly pushed at his head. He understood instantly without you saying more that it was starting to turn a little painful, removing himself from your clit. Not before giving the swollen bud a quick kiss.
He moved up your body slowly, his fingertips trailing along your legs, your stomach, your arms, and then your collarbones before he slid them up the column of your neck to cup your jaw lovingly. You returned his stare, your eyes warming when you saw his gaze soften and his cheeks flush anew with his pretty pink blush. You opened your mouth and he leaned closer to hear or to kiss, you weren’t sure of his intention. “Verg, can I play with your tits now…?”
He just closed his eyes and counted to ten again. When he opened his eyes, you saw determination in them. “No.”
“No?” You blinked at him, not fully processing the rejection. No. No? The word lost all meaning. “No.” You repeated, the word sounding foreign in your ears.
“That is correct.” He said and lifted his torso from yours, the slide of his skin across your tender nipples delicious, but not distracting enough to make you forget his. He sat back on his knees, kneeling in an oddly disciplined pose. Like he was about to start a kata or something. What did distract you was his cock standing proudly, resting against his toned abdomen. Fuck, but it looked tasty.
It was long, about five-eighths (approximately, you didn’t think to bring a fucking ruler to your bed) of your forearm long and thick enough that your jaw felt sore thinking about getting the damn thing in your throat. You thought about trying to fit it inside you and you would admit a tiny, itty-bitty thread of nervousness spooled through you. Then a thick bead of clear pre-cum dribbled down the already slick appendage, spread more by his firm hand gripping it and tugging up and down, stretching his foreskin along the head of his pretty flushed cockhead and your mouth watered enough that you felt a lot more confident about trying to take it. What you couldn’t fit in your esophagus, you’d give loving attention with your hands.
You sat up and began crawling toward it, your previous desire to play with his tits temporarily forgotten as you were reminded of how badly you wanted to suck him off. You spread greedy hands on his upper thighs, very pleased when those thick muscular legs moved and spread themselves to expose himself for your perusal just a little more. Fuck, fuck, fuck. He was just perfect. From the crown of his cock to his balls to the thatch of silvery hair at the base. Just mouthwateringly perfect. He didn’t stop you when you leaned forward, mesmerized by how he couldn’t seem to stop leaking pre-cum, by how there was a little wet spot forming beneath him and how there was a larger one where his dick had rest against your mattress as he ate you out.
You bit your lip before giving the glans a little kiss, thanking it for all its hard work and dedication in serving Vergil for all these years. He shuddered underneath that little brush of your skin against his and you watched his hand, still on his cock, get a little tighter as he milked a little more pre-cum from the shaft. And wouldn’t it just be a fucking waste to let it soak into your mattress?
Your tongue swept out and took the line of pre-cum that was sliding down his generous length into your mouth and savoring it. Sweet and salty with an amazing warming spice that you couldn’t put your finger on. You breathed out a sigh that breezed across his wet cock, his reactionary tremor making the whole mattress squeak.
You wanted to wrap a hand around his dick, ready to take it into your mouth and rock his fucking world, but he covered his dick with his hand. You backed up in surprise and his hand lifted. You went back down and it came back. You tried one more time before letting out an annoyed grunt. You glared at him, from where you were, frog-spread in front of him and ready to suck his dick. “Verg.”
“My love.”
“There a reason why you’re literally cock-blocking me?” You snarked, watching his smirk spread across his face as he leaned back slightly to appreciate your hip flexibility combined with your nakedness.
“There is.” He stated and you waited for him to elaborate. He did not. You let out a hefty sigh and sat up, scooching until you were able to drape yourself over his abdomen and thighs in a loose hug. You rest your chin on his upper sternum, between those magnificent tits that you swore on pain of death that you were going to play with before the night ended, and looked up at him. This angle was definitely not his best one, because you were getting mostly chin and jaw, but he had such a pretty chin and jaw that it was still a good angle.
“Don’t get to play with your tits, don’t get to suck your soul out through your dick,” you mumbled sour complaints and barely heard the soft chuckle he made. You glared at him. “Do you wanna share with the class?”
His lips thinned for a moment as he considered. You counted the seconds for him to finally break and tell you what was up. Onnnnne. Twooooo. Threeee.
“I have waited a very long time to be in this position with you.” You looked between your bodies, a little confused.
“...Platonic missionary hugging?” You double checked and while there wasn’t room for Sparda, there wasn’t much space between you. For a horrible moment, you worried that you would have to teach him sex, too. But that was ridiculous because Nero existed and he ate pussy like a champ. You tried to eliminate the thought from your brain, but it lingered like that little chocolate stain on the corner of your mattress Vergil left. He pressed a kiss to your brow.
“No, well, yes. But no.” He shifted and you counted seconds again, this time adding Mississippis. You got to six before he spoke again. “I have waited a long time—which is why I would like to move beyond foreplay.” You studied his face and his pink cheeks. Their coloration had a tinge of embarrassment rather than lust.
“You want to skip to just fucking me.” You elaborated.
“Yes,” he said with no small relief in his tone.
“Because you’re worried about cumming too soon.” A few more Mississippi seconds before a soft,
“Yes.” He trailed his fingertips down your back, cupping your ass possessively before moving to fondle the soft meat of your thighs with no small amount of amusement. “I am pleased that you understand that I do not wish to embarrass myself our first time together.”
“Ehhhhh? But you’re so cute when you’re embarrassed.” You cooed and cupped his pink cheeks, his expression obviously torn between being happy at being touched by you and also embarrassment at being frustrated and called cute. Really, he was just adorable all the time, but you couldn’t let him get a big head with all the compliments. “And I’d be happy regardless because I’m with you. It doesn’t matter who cums first because we’ll both be cumming sooner or later.”
He still looked unconvinced by your pep talk, which, rude. You were the most amazing orator, which he’d know if he hadn’t cockblocked you. You huffed and pulled him down for a deep, long kiss. You didn’t let him go until his responsive kisses turned hungry and had less thought and rhythm. You wanted him to think less and feel more. You felt gravity shift as he began pushing at you to lie on your back, more on your side and pulling one of your legs until it was draped on his opposite hip, your other leg stuck between his muscular thighs. You felt even more like a pretzel than before. He ran his hands along your thighs, once again far too entertained, while giving you his stupid, sexy fuck-me eyes. He raised a brow and that was clearly his way of asking for consent to move forward.
He was pressed against you, his shaft hot and heavy against your lower belly, stoking the anticipation that you felt even more when you felt a line of sticky pre-cum spill onto your skin. Fuck, he was going to get you so fucking messy—not that you weren’t already. Your folds were so wet that you swore that if he pressed your thighs together and fucked into them, he’d slide right through. He didn’t move, though, merely politely waited for your go-ahead.
You reached up, pressing your fingertips to his heart, feeling his pulse beat rapidly against your questing touch. His eyes were so warm and loving, so much care and concern in them. You knew that he wanted this to be good for you, wanted to be the best man for you he could be. He brought out his dimples again and directed them your way, making your heart lurch in your chest.
He kissed you again, slow and deep, taking his sweet time because he knew he had plenty of it. You’d let him have all the time in the world, all that you had. All that you wanted… All that you asked in return… Your hand flexed, still on his heart. It was a mere thing, just so little… Your hand drifted downward.
All you wanted was to play with his tits.
He broke the kiss with a hiss when you squeezed his rounded pec gently before scraping a fingernail across his lovely pink nipple. He leveled a flat stare at you and you averted your eyes while pushing your lips outward in a pout.
“Teacup.” Ooh, he sounded sexy when he was stern. But no, you had to be strong and also cowardly! You refused to give into his obvious desire to make eye contact as he admonished you. Wait, did Vergil have a discipline kink? Noooooo~~~~~~~ ...Maybe.
“Grumpy Vergills.” You replied, using the nickname he liked so much to lessen the amount of discipline you were about to receive but still keeping your eyes carefully from his. His fingers took your chin and angled your face to try and make eye contact, but if he was stubborn, then you were stubborner.
“Teacup, do you truly wish for me to spill before I am even inside you.” And why was this playful admonishment doing something for you??
“No~”
“Then why are you doing such things to me?” He ran a finger across your lips at the same time that he shifted his hips to run his cockhead through your folds. It felt like electricity arcing through your skin and into your nerves, sparking its way up to your brain where all intelligent life was burned in the power of the shock.
“Er.”
“My love, light of my life, twinkle of my eye,” He took your hand from his sweet, firm, protective and nurturing titty and pinned it above your head. “You are being, as you would say, a little shit.” Oh that was fucking rich!
“Turnabout’s fair play, isn’t it?” You suggested with a raise of your shoulders. You made the mistake of looking at his face and Sinful Sparda did you wish you had a phone to capture that masterpiece—cheeks flushed and hair messy, eyes sparkling—fucking sparkling—with amusement paired with his damn dimples. Then you wanted a video instead to capture sound because he chuckled softly and somehow looked warmer, somehow made your heart beat that much faster. Damn, but you loved this man.
“Fair play? I had not been made aware that we needed battle rules for lovemaking.” You lifted only one shoulder this time, angling your face flirtatiously.
“You never know what you’re going to get with me.” You winked and he scoffed a laugh. “Now let my hand down, I want to touch you and see if I can paint your chest with your cum.” A thought occurred to you. “Do you think I could write my name??” You asked excitedly. He groaned, but there was still a hint of laughter in his voice. He also didn’t say ‘no.’ He also didn’t release your hand, instead choosing to take your other wrist and pinning it above your head.
“You are certainly correct—I can’t always anticipate what might come out of your mouth, however,” he rolled his hips against you, sparking another arc of that electricity and leaving your mouth slack and eyelids half-lidded. “ I can guarantee who cums next.”
You could have rolled your eyes at his pithy comment but he chose that exact moment to breach your entrance and make you choke on your words.
You whimpered and tried pulling your hands down, wanting to grip his broad shoulders to stabilize yourself as he slowly fed his dick into you, but he was so strong. You felt a wave of slick drench his shaft—seems you quite liked that he was so big and strong, practically dwarfing you. “Ah, ah,” he tutted at you. “Those stay right there.”
“V-Vergil! I want—I want to touch you, sweetie, please baby?” You weren’t quite begging yet, no way. Did your words sound like it? Oh, for sure. But were you? Nah, nah.
“No, my love, you lost touching privileges when you chose to…” He took a moment to recall just how you phrased it. “When you decided that you would rather play with my tits.” You threw your head back into the mattress, another wave of slick coating his dick as you groaned your pleasure to the ceiling. You really liked when he said crude words that particular cadence, too! Fuck, he was fighting dirty. It seemed that he quite liked your sounds by the way his cock twitched inside you. “Now, my love, if you don’t mind; I was quite in the middle of something.”
No, the fuck he wasn’t ‘in the middle of something’—he had barely breached you. With a sigh that could have come from either of you, he restarted pushing in. There was no doubt about the soft groan that came from deep in his chest. “Y-you’re so t-tight… Hot.” He muttered, leaning forward to tuck his face into the space between your neck and shoulder. You groaned a little too—his weight was stretching your external thigh adductor a little further than you were accustomed. Then again if you could withstand this kind of stretch, he’d reward you with another, even better kind of stretch.
He checked with you, hearing the pain tinging your soft groan. You shook your head at him desperately. “Keep going, Verg, please don’t stop.”
He nodded and sighed as he pressed in. You counted the moments until he bottomed out, breathing heavily with each passing second; one Mississippi, two Mississippi, three Mississippi, four, five, sixseveneightnine!!!
There was silence as you and he took each other in.
You were split on his scalding cock, so full that you felt near to bursting. Every slight movement stimulated the deepest parts of you in the best ways possible. He let out a soft groan and rolled his hips into you the barest amount, making you gasp and pull at his hold on your wrists. His hand flexed, but did not release you. Fuck, you wanted to touch him so bad.
“A-are you… Is this all right? No pain?” He stuttered, his eyes misty with a deluge of pleasure. You shuddered and clenched your inner muscles seeing his pretty eyes so dazed and only from being inside you. He scrunched his eyes shut hard, a bead of sweat running from his hairline down his cheek and dripping off his jaw to your collarbone below.
“My love, please refrain from doing that again—otherwise I will release prematurely.” He warned. You nodded understandingly and squeezed him again. He growled and dragged his cock out before slamming it back in, intended as a punishment, but hitting your g-spot perfectly and forcing a cry from your lips and an arch to your back. You squeezed him again.
This time it was truly an amazing, delectable punishment as he began pounding into you, the sound of skin slapping against skin getting louder by the Mississippi. Yet it couldn’t get louder than your desperate moans or the sound of the mattress squeaking as Vergil drove into you, his strokes so deep and hard, like he was trying to fuck through you.
“You are such huff a little shit.” He huffed in exertion between his animalistic grunts, more sweat forming on his pretty body, catching the light and highlighting every ridge on his gorgeous form. You closed your eyes, not wanting to lose to Vergil by cumming too soon by just looking at his unrealistically beautiful musculature. He’s built so perfectly, you thought as his cockhead dragged along your inner walls and making your damn thighs shake. He slammed against your g-spot, making you cry out even louder and foolishly giving away your weakness; the one he needed to aim for to hasten your climax. Just as expected, his aim was directed at that particular spot, stars flashing and spiraling in your vision, your core tightening and squeezing him more and more.
Somehow your sweet and silly lovemaking turned into a competition; you supposed that it was still a little silly because the winner would be whoever proved which person came first by making them cum first.
“You oh fuck right there Verg you’re one to talk.” You shot back, trying to pull at his hold on your wrists, whining when he wouldn’t budge even an inch, still demonstrating his strength and making you gush wave after wave of slick all over his wet cock. In retaliation for not letting you touch his sculpted back muscles as he fucked into you, you rolled your hips into his strokes, clenching your inner muscles as hard as you could as he pulled out. He growled, a guttered and shaky sound.
“Me??” He grunted as he felt you flutter around him, the sensation making his eyes roll into the back of his head. It took him a second to think about doing anything more than trying to bruise your cervix with his drives, anything other than how perfectly you fit around him. “I wanted oh do that again, please, my love to… To give you a memorable first time.”
“Mission ah~ accomplished, handsome. Now oh shit fucking cum in me.” You goaded, pulling again at the manacle his hand formed on your wrist. “And let me gooooo~ I want to feel you fuck me.” You pleaded, feeling his hand twitch.
“Mm, no. You were so naughty oh but that was so good, love, once more so I believe that I will mm, yes, just like that I will hold onto these pretty hands.” You noticed he didn’t disagree to cumming in you but he should absolutely not be allowed to say the word ‘naughty’ anymore—just the sound of his unique cadence wrapping his lips around the word made it so sensual. The coil in your pelvis tightened harder and hotter and you were certain that this was going to be the most intense orgasm that you’d ever had—and he hadn’t even touched your clit since starting to fuck into you.
“Verg, I’m gonna…” You whimpered, your cunt feeling hot and almost buzzing with anticipated release. “Verg, cum in me, please baby?” He groaned and you felt him spasm inside you, not quite there, but you could tell you were getting to him with your words.
“Verg? My grumpy Vergills?” He turned his face into your neck and worried at the skin there, leaving an aching bruise there. You groaned softly as the small pain mixed with the intense pleasure. “I’m so close, want you there with me, want to feel your cum inside. Want to milk you dry.” He made a desperate sounding whine as he began grinding hard into you, not able to leave your hot, wet and welcoming cunt. You couldn’t help your little snark. “Will you let my pussy take all the hot cum from your thick cock since you wouldn’t let my mouth do it? I’ll take it all, baby, take everything you give me.” You whispered in his ear.
“B-blast.” He muttered before latching his lips to yours in a sloppy kiss as his cock finally flexed hard inside you, hot and wet heat painting your insides and burning your cervix with his brand. There was so much, so fucking much that it flowed around the stopper of his thick dick and dripped from your hole to the mattress below. His cock still pistoned in you, the rhythm obstinately regular and making wet squelching sounds with each drive into your core.
To your immense pleasure and disappointment, you came the moment that he did—your walls constricting around his thick shaft and milking him just as you promised, pulling as much of his viscous cum deep within you as your cunt could take. You convulsed under his wonderfully heavy body, each arch of your back held back by his big broad chest. More than the overwhelming pleasure of him fucking into you until your orgasm faded, more than the hint of pain as blood rushed back into your hands after he let them go to pull you into his chest, you loved the way he curled around you. You loved how large he was that he made you, a trained demon hunter, feel small and so feminine. You loved the gentle warmth that he gave off from both his sweet sandalwood and vanilla scented skin and his soft contented little sigh that preceded his lips across your temple in a sweet kiss.
He wanted to give you a good first time with him—well, you weren’t kidding when you told him that he achieved it. Though you didn’t tell him that even if the sex had been bad, then you still would have ranked it the best sex of your life, merely because it was with your big, serious and seriously goofy half-demon hunk. What you also didn’t tell him, primarily because it was far too soon after you and he had reconciled, was that you maybe sort-of loved him. Maybe. Kind of. You weren’t gonna lose this round and say it first, so it would remain a mystery.
“Seems that I won.” Vergil murmured, a Cheshire grin apparent in your ear. You blinked and faced his stupid smug, beautiful face.
“You won? Not fucking likely.” You glared at him and his smirk widened. He pulled you closer to his face and nuzzled your cheek with his nose, making your heart melt. You kept your scowl on your face, though it was a little bitch and kept trying to morph into a loving smile.
“Fucking was likely. In fact, it happened. Did you forget already?” Those molten silver eyes met yours and you knew from the twitch in his cock that this afternoon wasn’t ending until tomorrow morning. “I can remind you…?” He trailed his fingers along your sides, reaching your upper thighs and finding a lot of enjoyment there for some reason. You weren’t about to be bamboozled by this beautiful buffoon, though.
“And I remember that someone nutted after saying blast.” You had a thought. A thought that curled your lips and struck good-humored annoyance into Vergil’s very soul. “You brought your most powerful move to bed—a high velocity cumblast.” You could barely get through your sentence without laughing which only frustrated him more because he could not even be annoyed because he had the sound of your laughter in his ears. So he settled for kissing you speechless.
“I will accept a draw.” He offered once he broke to let you breathe. When he saw your blissful face, flushed and hazy eyed, he was more than ready to compete with you again.
“I’ll accept your total defeat.” You countered with a confident and cocky grin and he accepted your challenge with a smooth slide back home.
After a few hours, you were far too tired to continue and had to leave it at Vergil being up one. He, of course, demanded to learn where you learned to count and you replied the Fortunan Elementary ever so innocently. He had impressive stamina, but you could tell he was beginning to flag as well. Not because of muscle fatigue, but because every time he came, you would hold him and whisper ‘cumblast’ into his ear. It was emotional fatigue that wore him down and if you had been keeping up your stamina training, you might’ve actually gotten up one on him.
Your limbs were loose and muscles beginning to feel that wonderful soreness after a job well done, your eyelids beginning to close for a long restorative night’s sleep when Vergil decided to speak up.
“I love you.” Vergil whispered into the now-dark room. Your eyes flew open and you saw him lying on his side and staring heart shaped holes into your face.
“Sorry?” You must have misheard. He rolled his eyes and pressed a gentle kiss into your lips.
“I love you.” He enunciated, using that unique cadence you found so sexy. If you thought him saying ‘naughty’ was bad for your libido, then saying that he loved you was just bad for your… All of you. Every inch of you flushed and felt unbearably hot. Your heart felt like it was trying to leap from your chest to live with him, the little traitor. Then the warm fuzzies you got when he was around just got fuzzier. You covered your eyes—had to in order to maintain some semblance of thought and normalcy when he looked at you like that. Plus that was way too much concentrated handsome in one dose.
“Vergil!” You whined, wiggling your hips to release some of the embarrassed energy his stupid lovestruck smile gave you. “You can’t just say that!”
“I cannot?” He asked the question with a certain tone, one that you recognized. It was his patented and trademarked ‘I’m about to be a little shit again’ type-tone. “I believe that I just did? I cannot seem to help myself because I love you. Ah, I’ve said it again.” He watched you wiggle more in embarrassment and start emitting a high pitched squeal. Briefly, you wondered if any bats were having their ears blown out. That is if they were still intact after your shrieks and screams and moans from having your back blown out didn’t ruin them. “I love you.” He murmured. Another wiggle and he placed his hand on your hip to stop you from moving. “I love you.” He whispered and pulled your hand from your hot, red face. “I love you.” He breathed before he pressed his lips to yours and silenced your embarrassment.
He pulled away after leaving you limp and breathless, your own eyes returning those heart shaped holes and practically beaming your affection into his soul. Your lips curled into a smile and this one struck Vergil senseless from the depth of warmth and care in it’s formation.
“I love you, too, my grumpy Vergills.”