Work Text:
In the town of Fortuna there’s a legend that the locals whispered about. That a murderous dragon lived in the mountains above them, protecting them only if it would get something in return. The last time the dragon came for a visit was over sixty years ago, but no one could remember what gift it received, only that the creature would come one day to reclaim its prize.
The peace shattered one terrible evening when the sky darkened and the air trembled with the thunder of enormous wings.
The beast flew down, landing on the town square in a storm of smoke and glittering scales. His immense body gleamed midnight blue. His blue eyes—with possessive hunger—swept over the trembling villagers as he coiled his tail around the central fountain, cracking stone beneath his talons.
While treasure was his obsession and wanted nothing more than gold coins, jewels, and raw gems that would fill his hidden hoard within his mountain lair. Vergil didn’t come for that this time. No. He wanted something better. Someone.
A deeper instinct had awakened within him. An ancient urge to claim a mate, to bind his power and legacy to another.
“Mortals of Fortuna,” Vergil’s voice came out like a growl, echoing off the mountains. “I, Vergil, guardian of these heights, demand a bride. One woman from your town will come to my domain. Provide her by the week's end, adorned in finery worthy of my hoard, or I shall reduce this place to ash and claim what I desire from the ruins.”
Panic erupted instantly. Villagers fled in every direction—mothers clutching their children, men grabbing pitchforks they knew would be useless against such a creature. The town’s mayor, a thin man with a graying beard and shaking hands, forced himself forward.
“Oh Great Vergil— Please, have mercy! We are simple people—”
“No. I have been far lenient with you people. I protected this village from dangers, and you dare deny me this?”
“There’s must be something else we can—“
“One week,” the dragon roared, smoke curling from his nostrils. Then with a tremendous beat of his wings, he launched himself back into the sky and vanished into the clouds.
Fear settled over Fortuna like a storm that refused to pass.
By morning, the town hall buzzed with desperate voices. No one wanted to offer a daughter, sister, or wife to the dragon’s lair—a place whispered about fearful rumors, said to be a glittering tomb filled with treasure and bones alike. That dragons ate their brides if not satisfied.
“We can’t send anyone,” a baker’s wife sobbed. “But if we refuse, he’ll destroy the whole town! What do we do?”
Silence fell until an old person, who owned an innkeeper, spoke up, “There’s a mercenary,” he said slowly. “He goes by the name of Dante. He’s been staying here for a few weeks. Comes and goes. Taking bounties, drinking half my cellar dry. Toughest fighter I’ve seen in years. If anyone can face a dragon…”
They all rushed to find Dante.
In the inn, Dante lounged on a couch with his boots propped lazily on a small table, a wooden cup of ale in hand. He was tall and broad-shouldered, with white hair tied loosely at the nape of his neck. It appeared as if he was taking a nap—until the townsfolk barged in.
When the mayor nervously explained their problem, along with a generous purse of gold, Dante only chuckled. “Sure,” he said easily. “But it’ll cost you a ton. More than what you’re offering.”
“Anything! We just need you to kill the beast!”
Dante collected the gold, pocketed it. “Why not? Sounds fun.”
The mayor blinked. “You… you’ll do it?”
Dante leaned back, his eyes gleaming with mischief. “Dress me up as the dragon’s bride,” he said. “I’ll handle the rest. Might even gut the oversized lizard and bring it back here while I’m at it.”
No one believed Dante was capable of it but they were out of options. Desperation made the town move quickly.
By the seventh day, Dante stood in the center of the square.
Transformed into beauty.
A flowing gown of deep crimson silk draped over his disguised form, secured tightly at the waist to create convincing curves with the help of clever padding. Jewels glittered around his neck and wrists, a mixture of rubies, emeralds, and diamonds borrowed from the mayor’s personal vault. A delicate lace veil softened the sharp lines of his jaw, while makeup carefully disguised the rough edges of his features.
To anyone looking from afar, he might pass as a noblewoman offered to a dragon.
But beneath the silk and jewels, Dante’s muscles remained coiled and ready. Hidden under the gown, his blade waited.
The sky darkened.
A massive shadow passed over the town as Vergil returned.
The dragon descended with earth-shaking force, his wings folding slowly as he landed, nostrils flaring as he sniffed the air. Then his glowing gaze settled on Dante.
“The bride,” Vergil rumbled approvingly. “Adorned as promised.” His great head lowered, sapphire eyes studying the veiled figure before him. “Come, my prize,” the dragon said, smoke curling from his mouth.
Before Dante could react, enormous talons gently closed around him—far more careful than he expected. The dragon’s grip felt oddly protective, almost like a lover’s embrace rather than that of a captor. With a powerful beat of wings, they soared upward. Wind tore the veil from Dante’s face. The town shrank below, then vanished as they climbed into the misty heights. The air grew colder the higher they rose, yet the warmth radiating from Vergil’s scaled body seeped through the thin layer of the gown.
The dragon’s lair soon came into view. A vast cave carved into the mountainside, its entrance mimicking like the mouth of some ancient beast, framed with jagged ice and frostbitten stone. Vergil landed smoothly and set Dante down upon a ledge of polished rock.
“Rest here, my bride,” the dragon said, his voice softening. “I shall prepare for our union. Do not be afraid. Riches and pleasure await you here.”
With that, Vergil slipped deeper into the cavern, his huge form disappearing into the shadows and flickering torches, leaving Dante alone.
The mercenary didn’t waste a second.
He rushed in. The light from the torches against the wall guided Dante. It was indeed enormous inside, with many pathways. Dante didn’t know where Vergil went, so he went left. It took him to an area where clusters of glowing crystals covered the edges of the stone walls. The flames from the torch made the crystals shine brightly across the place.
Dante whistled. He had never seen anything like this. “Damn. I can get used to this.” Then he shook his head. “Wait. I’m getting distracted. Focus, Dante. You got a job to do.”
He quickly peeled off the heavy gown, revealing the practical breeches and tunic hidden beneath. From a concealed pouch he drew a blade. He unsheathed it, humming softly with the promise of violence.
But to really get near Vergil, Dante had to fully seduce him, so he took everything off and slipped on the red gown again. Carefully, he tucked the blade in a thigh garter, hidden but ready for a quick draw.
“Alright, you overgrown lizard,” Dante muttered under his breath. “Time to end this fairy tale.”
Dante heard loud movements before it halted, confusing him.
“There you are, my bride,” a husky voice said from afar. “I see you found my crystal room. There’s a small waterfall behind the boulder where fresh water replenishes me.”
Dante peered over the boulder. As he stepped closer, he heard water running where it led to a small pond.
“It’s really nice. You sure have everything.”
“I do. Now with you here, I have nothing I need in the outside world,” Vergil said.
Dante stilled, then he turned around. Vergil still hadn’t made an appearance, which didn’t sit right with him.
“What is your name, my sweet?”
“Dante.”
“A unique name. Come, Dante,” Vergil said, testing the name. “My chamber is on the other side.”
Dante still didn’t understand why Vergil’s movements were quiet as a mouse. Or why his voice was not growling like a beast.
Nevertheless, he followed him.
It went dark for a moment. Dante had no clue what he’s walking into until he finally saw light.
The cavern looked nothing like the shadowy lair Dante had expected.
The entire chamber was stunning.
Torches burning with steady flames that seemed brighter. Treasure glittered everywhere, mounds of gold coins spilling like molten rivers across the stone, jewels flashing from carved alcoves, and strands of gems hanging like shimmering curtains that caught the firelight and scattered it across the cavern in waves of color.
And standing at the center of it all was not a dragon… but a man.
A very hot man.
He was tall, imposing, with pale porcelain skin and white hair slightly combed back. His sharp features carried an air of ancient authority, and his piercing eyes studied Dante with an intensity that felt almost predatory.
A simple loincloth woven from fine golden threads rested low on his hips, leaving his muscular chest bare. Across his skin there were faint patterns of scales shimmered subtly in the light—like living tattoos marking the power that still lingered beneath his human form.
Dante's jaw dropped. "Well, shit," he breathed, eyes widening. "I don't have any problem with this." He had heard a dragon could shift into a human form, but Dante didn’t think it’d be that easy.
He was wrong.
Vergil stepped closer, a smirk curving his lips. "You are more radiant than I imagined, my bride. The flight did not wear you?" His voice was smoother now, up close, that sent shivers down Dante's spine.
"Wear me? Nah, that was a thrill." Dante straightened, the gown's hem brushing his calves. He eyed Vergil's body—powerful thighs, defined abs, and a bulge straining the cloth. The plan to fight flickered, dimmed by sudden heat pooling in his gut.
Vergil closed the distance, large hands sliding to Dante's waist, pulling him flush against that heated body. "Then let us begin. I have longed for this union." His fingers traced the gown's neckline, dipping lower to cup Dante's chest through the fabric. Thumbs circled nipples that hardened instantly.
Dante gasped, arching into the touch. "Hey, easy there. You're not what I expected." His voice came out with a raspy edge than he intended, his weapon forgotten as Vergil's lips brushed his ear.
"Expectations are for mortals. I am more." Vergil's mouth claimed Dante's in a fierce kiss, tongue demanding entry. Dante opened willingly, moaning as Vergil’s hands roamed lower, gripping his ass and squeezing.
They broke apart, panting. "Gods, you taste like smoke and spice," Dante murmured, hands exploring his chest, nails scraping over firm muscle.
Vergil chuckled, low and rumbling. "And you, like forbidden wine. Let me see you, Dante." He tugged at the gown's ties, letting it loosen.
As it slipped from Dante's shoulders, exposing his toned torso, Vergil's eyes darkened with lust. "Beautiful. So soft, yet strong."
Dante's heart raced, but not from fear. He shrugged the gown down, so he could lower the blade without being seen, taking off the garter belt along the way.
"Yeah? You like what you see?" he teased, stalling time for himself. He flexed playfully, drawing a growl from Vergil.
"I will worship you."
Vergil pushed him back toward a bed of silken furs piled with melted gold bars around, almost like a makeshift nest. Dante fell onto the softness, the gown bunching at his hips. Vergil loomed over him, shedding his loincloth to reveal his hard cock, tip glistening with pre-cum.
Dante's mouth watered. "Damn, you're hung like a beast." He reached out, wrapping fingers around the cock, stroking slowly.
Vergil hissed, hips bucking. "Yes, touch me."
Vergil's hands hiked up the gown, exploring Dante's thighs. His fingers brushed the hidden weapon, but he mistook it for a fold of fabric, ignoring it as he spread Dante's legs.
Dante immediately moved the blade away, with his free hand, before Vergil noticed it. Then released Vergil’s cock as he finally shed the gown, giving him his full attention.
Gaze dropping, Vergil peered between them, seeing the outline of Dante's own arousal straining his undergarments. "So eager for me already,” he said. “I can even hear your heart beating erratically."
"Oh yeah. I’m really excited," Dante lied smoothly. “Seeing as I’m about to get fucked by a dragon.” It wasn’t necessarily a lie. Dante was excited for sex, but the aftermath was what worried him. The plan to slaughter this creature and then vanish like mist? Not Dante’s finest moment.
All he wanted now was that cock inside him without being reminded of his stupid job.
Vergil leaned down, capturing Dante's lips again in a bruising kiss. Their mouths moved hungrily, teeth nipping as hands roamed one another. Vergil's palm cupped Dante's bulge, rubbing firmly. "I will fill you, make you mine," he whispered.
"Do it," Dante demanded, grinding up. "Fuck me, dragon boy. Show me what you've got."
With a feral grin, Vergil yanked away the undergarments, exposing Dante's hard cock and ass. He spat into his hand, slicking his cock before pressing the tip against Dante's entrance. "Relax for me, my love."
“Wait— You can’t go in dry!” Dante panicked.
“Why not? Women naturally lubricate.”
Shit, I forgot he thinks I’m a woman, Dante thought. Either Vergil didn’t judge, or he fully didn’t understand the concept of gender with mortals.
“I know… But humor me, won’t you?” Dante batted his eyelashes at him, touching his cheek.
It worked because Vergil melted on his touch.
“Very well.”
Vergil prepped him with oil he had nearby, and Dante sighed in relief. He got comfortable again and let Vergil do all the work. When it was time, Dante nodded, breathing deep as Vergil pushed in—slow at first, the stretch burning deliciously.
"Ah, shit— You're huge." He groaned, legs wrapping around Vergil's waist.
"Take it all," Vergil urged, inching deeper until he was buried to the hilt. Their bodies joined, he paused, his eyes locking with Dante's. "Perfect. You’re so tight, almost like a virgin."
Then he thrust hard, pulling out only to slam back in. Dante cried out, back arching as pleasure sparked through him. "Yes! Harder! Fuck, just like that!"
Vergil obliged, setting a relentless pace. His hips snapped forward, cock dragging against Dante's walls, hitting that spot that made stars burst behind eyelids. "You feel divine," Vergil panted, one hand pinning Dante's wrist above his head, the other stroking Dante's leaking cock in time with his thrusts. "Scream for me, my bride. Let the mountains hear your pleasure."
"Vergil— Oh god, don't stop!"
Dante bucked up, meeting each thrust, their skin slapping wetly. Sweat formed on their bodies, the cave echoing with moans and grunts. He forgot about the blade, the town, everything but the man rutting into him like a storm.
Vergil kissed him again, deep and possessive, swallowing Dante's cries. "Mine. All mine." He growled between thrusts. "Forever mine. Cum for me— Milk my seed."
The words pushed Dante over the edge. His cock pulsed, spurting hot cum across his stomach as waves of ecstasy crashed through him. "Fuck! Yes, I’m coming!"
Vergil followed with a roar, burying deep and flooding Dante's ass with thick ropes of cum. He collapsed on top of him, both gasping, bodies entwined.
As they caught their breath, Vergil nuzzled Dante's neck. "Dante... you are everything I desired."
Dante smirked, arms looping around him. "Yeah? Well, stick around, handsome. We've got more where that came from."
The plan was forgotten.
But deep in the furs, the weapon lay untouched. For now.
In the days that followed their heated union, the cave became a haven of unexpected bliss for Dante. The blade still remained buried under the furs.
Vergil treated Dante like a cherished gem from his hoard—precious, irreplaceable. Mornings began with Vergil's strong arms wrapping around Dante's waist, pulling him close against a chest that radiated warmth. Lips brushed his shoulder, soft kisses trailing up his neck as Vergil murmured, "Good morning, my treasure. Did you sleep well?"
Dante, still adjusting to this twist in his mercenary life, would grin lazily, twisting to face him. "Like a king on silk. Or should I say, dragon on gold?" He teased, but his body betrayed his growing affection, arching into Vergil's touch as hands roamed freely. Vergil's fingers would slip between Dante's thighs, stroking his cock to hardness with deliberate slowness, thumb circling the tip until pre-cum beaded there.
"I want you again," Vergil demanded, voice thick with desire, flipping Dante onto his stomach. He'd spread Dante's legs wide and prep him before positioning his thick cock at the entrance. Dante pushed back eagerly, moaning as Vergil slid in deep, filling him completely.
"Fuck, yes! Take me," Dante gasped, gripping the furs as Vergil thrust steadily, hips rolling.
Their bodies moved together, Vergil's hands gripping Dante's hips to pull him onto every thrust.
"Your body was made for me," Vergil panted, leaning down to bite Dante's shoulder gently, not breaking skin but marking with possession.
Dante cried out, his own cock trapped against the furs, leaking as pleasure coiled tight. "There, right there! Gods, Vergil, fuck me harder!"
Vergil obliged, pounding faster until Dante shattered, cum spilling hot beneath him. Vergil followed, groaning as he pumped his load deep inside, collapsing to hold Dante close afterward, kissing his back and neck. “Mine," he whispered, and Dante, spent and sated, would nod, whispering back, "Yeah... yours."
As much as sex was amazing and mind-blowing, Dante enjoyed the care, the gentleness from Vergil. No one had ever treated Dante like that, like a precious treasure they never wanted to get rid of. It made Dante feel like he was worthy of being loved.
Dante was shocked when Vergil began giving him valuables. Vergil's hoard spilled out in gifts: a necklace of flawless sapphires—matching the color of both their eyes—draped around Dante's neck.
“Even though our eye colors are the same, this shade of blue suits yours better in sunlight," Vergil said, touching the gems, then kissing the hollow of Dante's throat.
On another day, rings of enchanted gold that warmed to his touch, slipped onto his fingers as Vergil knelt—yes, knelt—before him. "Wear them always. They bind you to me."
Dante laughed at first, but the weight of the treasures felt right, like armor of affection. "You're spoiling me rotten, you know that?" he said, admiring the gleam on his hand before pulling Vergil up for a kiss.
Food soon became another ritual between them, lavish meals that made Dante’s mouth water every time. Vergil, ever intent on providing, would leave at first light, returning to his dragon form to hunt among the mountain peaks. By midday he would come back with fresh game—fat deer, wild fowl, whatever the highlands offered—preparing it with surprising skill over a fire pit surrounded by glowing crystals.
Soon the cavern would fill with rich, mouthwatering scents: venison roasted with wild herbs, tender cuts seared until perfectly juicy, and simple sides of foraged roots and berries that burst sweetly when eaten.
“Eat,” Vergil said, loading Dante’s wooden plate until it nearly overflowed. He would sit cross-legged beside him on velvet cushions, watching with quiet satisfaction as Dante devoured the meal.
“This is incredible! I haven’t had anything this good in years.” He got seconds. “You are a perfect spouse, you know that? Really sweet and caring,” Dante said with a mouthful of food, then he licked juice from his fingers. “Where did a dragon like yourself learn to cook like this?”
Vergil gave a small, smug smile, brushing a stray smear from Dante’s lip with his thumb. “Centuries of solitude encourage many talents,” he replied. “And now, I cook for you.”
Sometimes he would feed Dante himself, guiding small bites to his mouth, his fingers lingering just long enough to send warmth through Dante’s chest. Those slow meals often drifted into even slower afternoons, the two of them tangled together in the thick furs of the cavern, loving the quiet intimacy.
One evening, as they relaxed near the fire, Vergil’s arm draped loosely around Dante’s shoulders, the mercenary found himself reminiscing.
“Back in the lowlands,” Dante started, staring into the flames, “there was this tavern that made the best strawberry sundaes. Cream so thick it barely moved, fresh berries piled high, all drizzled with honey.” He sighed dramatically. “Gods, I miss that sweetness.”
Vergil’s eyes narrowed slightly in thought, though he said nothing.
The following day, while Dante dozed among piles of glittering treasure, Vergil quietly went out in his dragon form. He flew far beyond the mountains until a small village came into view below. His shadow swept across the market square, sending villagers scattering as he swooped low and snatched several baskets from a stall—plump strawberries, jars of thick cream, and honeycombs dripping with golden sweetness.
By dusk he returned to the cave, landing with a soft thud before shifting back into human form, a faint look of triumph on his face.
“For you,” Vergil announced, setting the stolen goodies before a very confused Dante.
Working quickly, Vergil crushed the strawberries into a rough sauce, whipped the cream with a carved wooden whisk, and layered everything together in a hollowed gourd, finishing it with generous ribbons of honey. The result was a crude but beautiful imitation of the dessert Dante had described.
Dante blinked in disbelief, his heart racing. “You stole all this? Just for me?”
He scooped up a spoonful and tasted it, eyes widening as the flavors burst together. The sweet cream, bright berries, and honey were fresh and delicious.
Vergil gave a small nod, clearly pleased with himself. “A dragon claims what his mate desires,” he said simply. “Now eat. Tell me if it compares to your memory.”
Dante groaned happily at the next bite before grabbing Vergil by the collar and pulling him into a sticky, laughing kiss, so he could taste it himself.
“Better,” he declared once he pulled away. “Because it’s from you.”
That night, gratitude turned into passion. Dante rode Vergil's cock, grinding down, their mouths sharing the taste of stolen sweets as Vergil thrust up, hands on Dante's ass, guiding him.
"Fuck, you feel so good," Dante panted, cum shooting across Vergil's chest as the dragon filled him again.
They spent two weeks on repeat: sex, rest, dine, and sex. Again.
Dante forgot the town below, not caring about anything but pleasure. He was content, loved in ways he'd never known, surrendering to every touch.
But then Dante got sick.
It started subtly. A queasy twist in his gut after breakfast, brushed off as rich food. By midday, it worsened. Dante bolted from the furs, retching over the cave's edge into the abyss.
Vergil was there in an instant, hand on his back, holding his hair. "What's wrong, my love?" Concern etched his features as Dante wiped his mouth, pale and confused.
"Dunno. Stomach's acting up. Maybe I ate too much."
But it persisted. Waves of nausea crashing without warning, leaving him weak and trembling. Vergil fussed, brewing herbal teas from mountain plants, his touch gentle as he wiped Dante's brow.
“I don’t believe it’s the food,” Vergil said.
“This feels like a nasty hangover…”
“Hmm.” Vergil looked as he wanted to say something, but instead focused on putting Dante to rest.
Dante heaved into a basin at night.
Vergil cleaned him, then touched his stomach. His expression shifted from worry to something brighter, almost smug. He pulled Dante into his lap, cradling him like fragile glass. "I know what this is," he said, voice laced with pride. "You're pregnant."
Dante froze, staring up with wide eyes. "Pregnant? What the fuck are you talking about? I'm a man— Guys don't get knocked up!" He let out a hollow chuckle, but the nausea lingered, a knot in his belly that felt... different now.
Vergil's jaw tightened, a flicker of upset crossing his face.
He had demanded a bride, envisioned soft curves swelling with his heir, not this silver-haired man. For a moment, anger coursed through him, thoughts of soaring down to Fortuna, flames burning the houses for their deceit. They had sent a husband in disguise, dooming his perfect union.
But as he looked at Dante, weak but beautiful in his arms, his anger dimmed. What's done is done, he thought. The seed had taken root, defying mortal limits through his dragon bloodline.
“You’re mad now… knowing that I’m a man?” Dante muttered, catching a glimpse of Vergil’s face.
“I am. I was made to look like a fool. It isn’t your fault. It’s the situation. Rest assured, I won’t harm you, or our heir.” He held Dante tighter. “Besides, I did fall for you.”
Dante snorted. “You would’ve still fallen for a proper bride.”
"No matter," Vergil said finally, cupping Dante's face, thumb stroking his cheek. "You're the one here. You're pregnant already. So you'll have to do as my bride." His tone brooked no argument, but softened with resolve. He kissed Dante's forehead, then his lips, tender and reassuring.
Dante blinked, mind reeling back to that. "Wait, but how? Pregnant? Me? It should be impossible!"
But Vergil just hummed, laying him back on the furs, piling pillows under his head.
"My essence ensures it. Dragon blood bends reality. Rest now, I'll care for you."
And he did. Doting with devotion.
Vergil hunted often. Fruits plucked from hidden groves, their juices soothing the nausea on certain days for Dante. Gifts multiplied: a cradle carved from pearl-white stone, etched with protective runes, placed proudly in the hoard. Soft blankets woven from cloud-spun wool draped over Dante's lap as Vergil massaged his feet, strong hands kneading away aches that hadn't yet appeared but surely would.
They talked about their future.
"We’re gonna be parents. You’re going to be a father. I’m not sure what I’ll be yet but I’m gonna be something," Dante said. “But what if I’m not good enough?” His hand rested on his flat stomach, still grappling with everything.
But Vergil's joy was infectious, his blue eyes shining as he fed Dante bites of honeyed fruit.
“You will be marvelous, my sweet.”
“You think so?” Dante asked softly.
"Yes. Our heir will be one of a kind. You'll carry them strong, like you. Protecting and raising them with me." Vergil's hand joined Dante's over the spot, warm and slightly possessive.
At night, sex was gentle. Vergil on his back, guiding Dante to straddle him, cock sliding in as they rocked together.
"Easy, my bride," Vergil whispered, hands on Dante's hips, not thrusting hard but letting Dante set the pace, kissing his belly that would get bigger soon.
Dante came with a soft cry as Vergil spilled inside.
For the first time, Dante was excited for a journey.
As the days stretched into weeks, Dante's belly grew. Nausea still happened but it lowered over time. Now it came with a strange craving Dante didn’t understand at all. A pull toward the glittering heart of the cave. At first, he dismissed the way his eyes lingered on the piles of gold coins and jewels, how his fingers itched to touch the cool metal and faceted stones.
But one afternoon, as Vergil sorted through a fresh trove of emeralds that had been offered to him by another village. He placed his new treasure with his collection.
Dante found himself crawling over, pressing his palm flat against a mound of doubloons. The warmth seeped into his skin, soothing the odd ache in his belly.
"What the hell is this?" Dante muttered, sifting through the treasure, a ruby the size of his fist catching the sunlight. He held it up near his stomach, feeling his child move.
Vergil paused, his eyes gleaming with pride as he approached, kneeling beside him. "It's the heir," he said simply, placing a hand over Dante's on the ruby. "Half-dragon, like their sire. They crave the shine, the security of a hoard. And so do you, now that you're carrying them. It's in your blood— My blood. Stirring instincts you've never known."
Dante blinked, the ruby still clutched in his grip. "So… this is how you react with treasures? No wonder you want more! It feels like I’m showering with love and warmth, feeling so safe.”
Vergil nodded. “Yes. Mortals seem to think dragons are greedy, but they don’t understand the deep urge within us.”
“I'm really turning into a dragon wife now.” Dante smiled. “Craving bling because our kid's got scales like his father."
“You are my dragon bride. The craving will fade after the child is born,” Vergil replied, his voice thick with quiet satisfaction. He leaned forward and caught Dante’s lips in a kiss, savoring the taste of him. When he finally pulled back, his gaze softened. “You’re beginning to bloom with our future,” he murmured. “Let instinct guide you. Take whatever you wish from my hoard. Shape this place as you desire.”
Dante leaned back with a breathless laugh, a crooked grin spreading across his face.
“Well, if I’m doing this whole pregnancy thing,” he said, glancing around the glittering cavern, “I might as well enjoy the perks. Pass me that necklace. The one with the jade and gold links. And maybe pile some coins under me. Weirdly comfortable… kinda feels like home.”
A pleased rumble vibrated through Vergil’s chest.
He retrieved the necklace Dante had pointed out and draped it carefully over his shoulders, the cool weight of gold and jade settling against his skin. Then Vergil knelt beside the hoard, gathering handfuls of treasure: coins, chains, ornate goblets. Arranging some and scattered the others on their bedding. Over the glittering base he spread thick furs and cushions, shaping them into a nest that cradled Dante comfortably.
“Lie here, Dante,” Vergil said softly, guiding him down.
Dante stretched out with a satisfied sigh. Beneath him, the coins shifted softly, their warmth seeping through the furs as the subtle pressure eased the tension in his muscles.
"Wow. This is better than any inn bed." Dante sighed, sinking into it, fingers trailing through the treasures. "You're turning me into a proper dragon's pampered mate. Keep this up, and I might never leave."
Vergil chuckled, settling beside him, one arm propping his head as he traced lazy circles on Dante's chest. "That's the plan. Now, what else does my pregnant treasure crave? Food? Touch? Tell me, and it's yours." He lowered his head, kissing Dante's collarbone, then lower, sucking a nipple into his mouth with gentle pressure until Dante arched, moaning softly.
"Both," Dante admitted, hand tangling in Vergil's white hair. "But easy. Don't want to jostle the kid."
The words slipped out naturally, and he didn't take them back. Acceptance bloomed warm in his chest. He was making the best of it. For his family.
As the seasons turned, the air beyond the mountains grew colder. Winter was near and carried on sharp winds that whistled through the mouth of the cave. Frost began to gather along the stone edges of the entrance.
Vergil noticed the change first. His dragon instincts were quick to sense the shift in temperature before Dante, who was almost five months pregnant.
He had noticed that Dante was sensitive to the cold temperature. Dante would curl beside Vergil while sleeping, slightly shivering even with all the furs surrounding them. Vergil’s human form wasn’t warm enough to soothe his bride.
So one morning he decided to change. As the cold wind howled outside, he rose without a word and let his human form fall away. Scales rippled across his skin as his body lengthened and expanded until the massive dragon once again filled the cavern. His wings folded carefully against the walls as he settled beside the nest.
Vergil lowered his head, then he exhaled warm breath that washed over Dante like a comforting wave of heat.
“Come closer,” Vergil rumbled, his voice deeper in this form, echoing through the stone chamber. “My original body is much warmer.”
He turned toward the wall and released a controlled breath of flame. Heating it up so the warmth could linger around them.
Dante scooted closer without hesitation, leaning against the dragon’s scaled underside. The warmth was immediate and intense, soaking into his chilled bones as he relaxed against the steady rhythm of Vergil’s breathing.
“You’re basically a walking furnace,” Dante said with a chuckle, reaching up to stroke the dragon’s snout, careful of the sharp teeth. “Perfect for winter.”
Vergil huffed fondly, a thin curl of smoke slipping from his nostrils. “Dragons are built for the cold,” he replied. “But you are not. Therefore you must be protected now.” He shifted slightly, curling his long tail around the nest to shield it from the drafts sneaking through the cave’s entrance. “You carry our heir. Our future,” he continued, “I will keep you warm. Always.”
Dante’s eyes watered as he smiled. “I’m lucky to have met you.” He yawned, eyes fluttering shut. Wrapped in the dragon’s heat, Dante settled deeper into the nest, safe within the living barrier of scales and warmth.
“Rest. I won’t move from here.” Vergil nuzzled Dante’s head.
That became routine.
Vergil would hunt by day—bringing back slaughtered animals, cooking them tender over his own flame—then transform to envelop Dante.
Cravings hit hard, but not with food.
Diamonds and rubies were Dante’s favorite combination. He caressed the gems before placing them near his belly. Their child kicked with excitement. Vergil was proud.
"The kid's got expensive taste," Dante joked.
“As our heir should.”
At dinner, Dante was in the mood for smoked salmon with a side of those stolen strawberries, devouring it while nestled in the hoard. When he finished, Dante licked salt from his fingers before Vergil, in human form again, licked it off himself, leading to slow sex where Dante rode him in the nest, gold shifting beneath them as he ground down on Vergil's thick cock.
"So full," Dante gasped, hands braced on Vergil's chest, hips rolling to take every inch he could.
Vergil's hands gripped his thighs, thumbs pressing into the soft skin.
"Take what you need," Vergil breathed, moving his hips, eyes locked on Dante's face. "You're beautiful like this. Swollen with me."
They came together. Dante spilling, and Vergil pumping deep inside, then holding him close near the treasures.
Around Dante’s seven month pregnancy, the gold obsession deepened for him. He rearranged the nest daily, embedding jewels into the furs—diamonds for sparkle, emeralds and jade for purity.
"It's like the heir's whispering to me," Dante admitted, stringing pearls around his wrist. "Wants to shine."
Vergil watched, pride etching his features. "Yes. A half-dragon. They'll hoard as fiercely as I do. Stories say our kind are born with eyes for treasure, drawing it close like breath. You'll see. They'll nestle in gold from the cradle."
That sparked evenings of tales. Curled in the nest, fire crackling, Vergil told stories of ancient dragons. Winged behemoths who claimed one another.
"There was one, like me, who fell for a mortal," Vergil said, voice low and intimate, fingers combing Dante's silver hair. "He saw her in the field by a village. Her beauty had the dragon mesmerized. He wanted her.”
“What happened?”
Vergil’s quirked up. “They had a family,” was all he said. “Their heir ruled the skies for ages.”
Dante felt like there was more to that story but he didn’t want to spoil Vergil’s good mood.
“Sounds romantic.”
“Indeed.”
Vergil talked about other dragons he had seen in the past. Dante listened, head on Vergil's lap, hand absently rubbing his belly. "Better than bounties and bar fights. Tell me more. Have you ever encountered a pregnant dragon?”
“Yes.”
“Did they have weird cravings too?"
“Somewhat. They craved knights,” he admitted. Dante laughed at that. “I knew one who bore three strong whelps, each with fire in their veins. They hatched all at the same time."
"Wait… Hatched? So ours might hatch?" Dante asked, half-teasing, but curiosity burned. If he had heard that in the very beginning, he would’ve panicked but now he was okay with anything.
"Perhaps," Vergil replied, kissing his temple. "Or born as you, but with my gifts. The blood decides. Either way, they'll be perfect. Our legacy."
It was quiet for a moment, then Dante spoke, "Vergil?”
“What is it?”
"I gotta tell you something.” Something he should’ve mentioned before, but Dante was scared. He would’ve kept it a secret, except he didn’t want to feel guilty anymore. He didn’t want their relationship to be based on a life, even though it was at first.
Now Dante couldn’t imagine a life without Vergil in it.
“Whatever is it… I won’t be upset like you’re thinking.”
Dante nodded.
“Back when I came here... I wasn't just some volunteer bride. The town hired me, a mercenary, to slaughter you. Blade under the gown, whole plan to gut you while you were distracted."
Vergil’s eye cracked open, glowing blue in the dim. A low rumble vibrated through his body, not anger, but acknowledgment.
Dante pressed on, hand grabbing Vergil’s arm. "But I couldn't. From the second you looked at me, all intense and handsome... and then you treated me like this. Like I'm worth more than gold. The sex, the care, the gentleness... I just... fell for you. The blade still there, untouched. Happy it is."
“I knew, my sweet.” Vergil's head tilted, nuzzling Dante's side gently. "You're not the first fool to try, sent by kings or hunters with grudges. I scented the steel the moment you entered, felt your tension like a coiled spring. Expected you'd lunge in the heat of it, slash my throat while I fucked you senseless."
Dante's eyes widened. "You did? And you still..."
"Still claimed you? Yes,” he said proudly.
Vergil's arm tightened around Dante, protectively. "When you didn't strike, you moaned my name instead, surrendered. I was pleased. It meant I'd won you over, body and soul. No blade could touch me then. You were mine already. And now, look at us, building a family from what started as deceit."
Relief flooded Dante as he melted in his arms. He sat up, leaning to press a kiss to Vergil. "Yeah. Best outcome. No regrets. I love this— Us, the kid, the hoard. You're my dragon, my heart, and I'm yours. I want to stay by your side forever.”
Vergil purred, a deep vibration that shook the nest. "And you're my heart's treasure. My precious mate.” He pulled Dante closer. “Sleep now," Vergil whispered, kissing Dante's hair, then his mouth, slow and deep. "I'll guard you both."
Dante nestled in, hand on his belly, surrounded by gold, jewels, and love. The cold outside meant nothing. Not when he’s in heaven like this.
He was home and content. The heir kicked faintly, as if agreeing, and Dante smiled in Vergil’s embrace.