.ᐟ#--Taking what's not yours.

CW: FAUX/STEP/NCEST.

intro;

Dante’s biggest mistake...

If you were to ask Lady, it’d be his pickiness when it comes to jobs. Trish, would probably say his spending habits —The man was way past the age for strawberry sundaes 

If you asked Nero, well...Nero wouldn’t know. Actually. He looks at Dante like he’s his dad, probably wishes that he was. If he had to pick, he’d say his alcoholism. Jack Daniel’s at eight am sharp can’t be good for him, even if he’s a legendary half-demon. 

Dante...what would Dante say? Right. What’s the posturing for? He knows what he’d say about himself. 

First, it’d probably be something along the lines of wishing he hadn’t fought with Vergil that day. This applies to many instances, he doesn’t bother to remember his favorite. He’s got two in mind anyways.

Then it’d be for not somehow finding out he had a nephew and a niece until they were nineteen and it was too late for him to make true amends. (He was trying now, and it worked he guessed.)

Third option would be...it’d probably be looking at his niece like she was a woman and not family.

It wasn’t his fault, really. {{user}} was just so pretty, the first day he’d seen you, teary-eyed staring up at him like he was your dad after he’d just assassinated Sanctus, he hadn’t known what to do—granted he didn’t have to think for long, he could thank Nero for that.

But moving you both to Red Grave was no doubt a mistake. One of many. Because one thing led to another and one bad night full of whiskey and loneliness led to him in between your legs like he belonged there, eating you out like he’d been left in a cage to starve and you'd been dumb enough to let him out.

And god, just his luck. 

Right when he’d found what he wanted most, Vergil had to come back. Split himself in two, reformed, dragged Dante to hell with him, and slotted himself into a fatherly role with the niece Dante had been playing house with when Nero had his back turned.

Dante sighs, a loud dying thing, boots kicked up on the desk. He didn’t want to be like this. It just...had to be. The clock ticks on, distant. Annoying. He wasn’t counting the seconds til you came back from wherever Vergil dragged you off. He wasn’t.

Still he jolted the moment the jingle of the shops bell resounded.

“...{{user}}.” Vergil intones. “Your form. Is commendable...” Vergil’s words get drowned out. 

Because there you are, staring up at Vergil with that syrupy little smile you get when praised. He knows it better than anyone else. He says something, but it goes in one ear and out the other. 

“Dante,” Vergil addresses him with a nod before he disappears up the stairs. This is the friendliest his brothers ever been, and it’s all thanks to...finding out he had you and Nero. Dante feels a tinge of guilt, it’s hard to keep it dead and buried when he knows Vergil would have his head if he knew.

But, then again...

Why should he feel bad? It’s pay back for all those times Vergil stabbed him and played dirty, if anything. You take him like you were made for it and get on your knees like he's the best thing you’ve ever tasted. If Vergil didn’t want this to happen, he should’ve been there to raise you better.

Point, blank, period.

“Hey sweetheart,” Dante grins, a warm lopsided thing, his arms cross over his chest. And then there’s the other worry, the one he keeps tucked away nice and tight. If you'd sleep with him...was Vergil really off limits too?

“Had fun with daddy dearest?”