#the boy definitely has range. and he is definitely getting a little hysterical with dante here

[fisheito]

oh fun fact eiden has made the "rin face" once. he does it when hes getting a little hysterical at dante when they first met (calling him out on acting like a shitty noble)

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)immediately opens the game)

AMAZING EIDEN FACT, EVERYONE!! chapter 9-05! eiden DOES pull the condescending "rin face"! a smile that truly does not meet his eyes! incredible!!!

[shes-claws-deep]

Vergil - Of Dates and Dating Advice

Thank you sanguia for your commission! Please enjoy this 1500 word fic of Vergil scoring his first date with Reader! And what comes next, of course~

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To say that Dante was shocked by Vergil's question would be the understatement of the century. He thought it was a figment of his imagination, a mirage brought on by the madness of infinite enemies pouring out of the ground for what seemed like an eternity. Vergil looks put upon to repeat himself, but repeat himself he does, averting his gaze and turning to slash apart another demon.

"How do you ask a woman out on a date?"

Between surprised guffaws and hysterical laughter, Dante delivers his advice with panache. Demonstrating on an unfortunate Hell Caina, he lands several pick up lines that range from the stupid to the impossible to the downright sultry. Of course, the demon barely responds, in fact looking rather glad to be cut down along with the rest of its more fortunate kin. Vergil surmises that would be the reaction of the woman he intends to court should he try them. Once he runs out of ideas, Dante smashes the last demon into the ground and turns to his brother with an exasperated expression.

"Look, just grow a pair and ask her point blank." Dante gestures with his blade. "What's the worst that could happen?"

He could get rejected, that's what, Vergil hisses back with an uncharacteristic flush on his face. While not one to normally bother about being turned down by the object of his affections, he didn't normally have the stakes of 'this is a person I genuinely don't want to push away'. When faced with that, any stone cold man with a pair of steel balls would be daunted.

Well, he has time to consider his options, Dante rolls his eyes and crosses blades with his brother once more. After all, they're not getting out of here anytime soon.

After what seemed like an eternity, the brothers make their way back to the surface, covered in demon guts and their own filth. It is then that Vergil sees you, sees your relieved expression and hears your voice, and removes that filter between his brain and his mouth.

"Would you like to go out for dinner?"

Immediately, Vergil covers his blush with his hand, completely unaware that the grime on his face conceals his embarrassed expression. Almost as quickly, however, his hand drops and his eyes go wide as you agree with a grin on your face, a smile blooming on his when you ask him when and where he wants to go. He ignores Dante as the red-clad hunter wolf-whistles at them, electing to kick his brother away when Dante wanders closer to hear what he has to say.

Vergil admits there's really nowhere to go this late at night, no place left intact in Red Grave City, and the only place that 'serves' food is the leftovers from whatever food the girls ordered back at Dante's place. Given that it was such a last minute request, you wave aside his worries and invite him over to yours; why eat out when you can eat in?

It's a testament to Dante's raunchy suggestions that a dirty quip pops into his mind. That aside, however, Vergil gratefully accepts and falls into step beside you, his stride quickening when you offer the use of your shower. Holy shit, a shower, he hasn't seen that in an age. More than the -crush-, um, the attraction that he has to you, the thought of using your shower has him wanting to kiss you silly.

Somewhere deep inside him, he feels bad for making you make dinner on your own while he cleans up, even saying so himself in what he thought was a concerned tone of voice. Unfortunately for him, it comes out a little tired and you grin at him, pushing him towards the shower while waving a hand over your nose. You'd rather the food not get contaminated with the amount of demon guts on him, you insist, pointing him towards the bathroom while you gather a clean towel and some loose clothes.

When Vergil eyes them suspiciously, you laugh and shake your head. They're your sleeping clothes and they definitely do not belong to any man. You just so happen to really like loose clothing that just so happens to fit him, that's all. Of course, that's when the image of you wearing some of his shirts pops into his mind. Ignoring the cock twitching in his pants, Vergil gratefully accepts them and jumps into the shower, subtly sniffing at your body wash and your shampoo. Sakura blossoms and milk...an odd mix, but one that's rather pleasing to the nose. He pushes aside the thought that he'll be smelling of you for a while, ignores the voice in his head that tells him this is what it'd be like to share a house, to share a shower, and cleanses himself thoroughly. While also smelling your conditioner. Hey! He can't help it if you pick the best scents.

As he puts on your clothes, they fit him just like he thought - just right. It's honestly the most comfortable he's been in a long time. Finally feeling clean and well groomed, Vergil comes out and finds you still in the midst of prepping a simple stew. Turns out that he's faster than he thought he was. No matter. Even if he's clean, he rolls up his metaphorical sleeves and comes up next to you, quietly asking what he can do to help you.

On your end, you almost slice your own hand with the knife when he pops out of nowhere to hover by your shoulder. You turn around, just about ready to tell him to sit down and relax, but stop yourself when you see how delicious he looks in your clothes. The Elevator Stare comes out in full force and you spend an entire minute just looking him over, admiring how his muscles stretch the fabric, how content he looks even when he's frowning down at you. He comes out, towel around his shoulders, combing his hand through his damp hair, and looking like a snack, and expects you not to ogle him? You tell him as much in a blunt manner, giggling to yourself when he has to turn his face away and blush like a schoolboy. Maybe he doesn't get as many compliments as he should, but really. Really. He looks like a snacc. With two Cs.

So, of course, you take his offer of help and watch him wield your chef's knife masterfully, those forearms working and slicing ingredients so easily that it actually looks sensual. You offhandedly compliment his technique, brushing your hand over his back as you edge around him to reach your fridge. You can feel him tense under your touch but he doesn't move away; on the contrary, he looks towards you and stays in place, making you press up against his back on your way to the stove again. Cheeky boy.

Cooking dinner and eating it goes by in a flash, with Vergil eating up your attention with a small smile on his face and a welcoming posture. After a while, you understand why he lets you be the one to flirt instead of him; he tried to touch your leg while you put on a movie and made you jump, something that startles both him and you. Enough that he retreats and puts his hand back on his lap sheepishly, his eyes locked on the screen instead of your face. After that, he didn't try to touch you again, his posture tensing up, though he does remain friendly when you ask him questions.

Well, you can't have that. Not when you finally have him right where you want him. And you're sure he wants it too; the way he keeps glancing at your hand on the sofa between you, the way he blushes when you stretch and reveal an expanse of bare leg, the way his breath hitches when you kneel on the sofa to grab something behind you. Besides, Vergil's not one to stick around when he doesn't want to. All these combined with his sudden shyness makes you only want him more. With that in mind, you ask him point blank, "Are you okay with me flirting with you? Like physical flirting?"

Vergil's face burns brightly in the dimly lit room. "What did you just say?"

You roll your eyes and crawl into his lap sideways, pressing your thigh against his rousing cock. "Are you okay with this? If I were to get handsy?" To demonstrate further, you trail a fingertip over his cheek, feather-like, and feel his breath rattle in his great chest. "If I were to keep on touching you and teasing you?"

Vergil's arms creep up behind you. "I...would not be opposed." He's held transfixed by your eyes as you lean in closer, closer, closer until he can feel your breath on his lips.

"Then I want to do something. Let me know when to stop, alright?" You don't give him a moment to argue as you stand up and tug him up alongside you, one arm snaking around his shoulders and the other around his waist as you spin and dip him down, pressing a kiss to his lips at the same time.

Vergil yelps and clings to you, his body tensing at the sudden shift in gravity. But he relaxes some when he feels your lips on his, choosing to focus on that instead of the fact that you're suspending him above the ground. Shit, and he thought you were strong before.

Not one to end it just there, you pull him back upright and sweep him off his feet. Literally. You gather him up into your arms in a bridal carry and sweep him off into your room without breaking your lip lock. Impressive, if you do say so yourself. Vergil seems to agree if his hands in your hair are any indication. Although he does try to show off his strength when you toss him onto the bed, his hands reaching for your clothes and trying to pull you on top of him.

You aren't having it, not when you're drunk off the fact that he's letting you have your way with him. It's intoxicating - having this impossibly powerful man decide that he's too awkward to try and flirt with you the way most men would try, to decide that maybe he shouldn't try to think about how to seduce you and that he should let himself be the seduced instead. Riding on that high, you roll onto your back and pull his head down to your thighs, all the while shimmying your shorts and underwear off with his help.

Vergil, too, is feeling that drunkenness of your power, following your lead almost mindlessly as you lift your legs and hook them over his shoulders to bring him in close. Obliging your insistent hands on his head, he dives between your legs and feasts like a king. Slurping, sucking, licking, devouring you with such hunger and delight that you can't hold back your cries. In the back of his mind, Vergil wonders why he didn't do this earlier; wonders why he didn't try to court you earlier, wonders why he never asked to live between your legs, why he never thought to seek the ambrosia leaking from your most intimate place. Now though, now he swears to never go a day without tasting you. He's so serious about it that he actually says it out loud without a blush, his mind focused on drinking up the slick that pours out of you at his declaration.

You grin and agree with him, pulling him close and closing your thighs around his head as he makes you cum. What a great start to the night, if you do say so himself.

The next morning brings about a sense of contentedness. For you and for Vergil. You because you're sore in all the right places and cuddled closely to his side. Him because he wakes up next to you, sees your face and feels your affection first thing in the morning. Vergil takes one look at your sleep soft body, at your squirming as you stretch, and decides to make good on his promise the night before, slowly slinking beneath the covers until he hears the doorbell go.

Pressing him back into the covers, you elect to answer it after you've thrown on the shirt he discarded last night. At the door is Dante in full hunting regalia looking for his brother. He tries to peer over your shoulder into your living room, as though expecting to find clothes strewn all over the floor and a well-fucked Vergil on the sofa. Even says it aloud, much to your consternation and Vergil's exasperation in your bed. You shake your head and push Dante away, smirking and telling him that Vergil will find him when he wants to find him.

While generally as bull-headed as the rest of them, Dante knows when to take a hint. He backs away with his hands in the air, though he takes a moment to smirk when he spots his brother's bedraggled self in your bedroom doorway. "Damn girl, you messed him up good!"

A slam of the door answers him. You laugh at his affronted gasp, then turn and snicker at Vergil's disgusted expression. Sidling up close, you push your lover back into the bedroom and toss him his phone. Best he text his brother to know that his 'messing up' was mutual. The nasty grin that spreads across Vergil's handsome face is one that you'll cherish forever. Well, that and the way he throws his phone aside to plant his face between your legs again.