Rookie Mistake.

୨ᅠ࣪ᅠᅠᅠ꒰୨ ୧꒱ᅠᅠᅠ࣪ᅠ୧
! NSFW WARNING AHEAD !
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ღ brat tamer Vergil! AHHHHH ღ

| Devil May Cry |


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The rain outside Red Grave City’s Devil May Cry office had dwindled to a quiet hiss. Storm clouds pressed low over the skyline, their reflection faint in the glass behind Vergil’s silhouette. The room was dim — lit only by the warm glow of a desk lamp and the faint blue shimmer that always seemed to follow him, like power trying to break free.

Vergil stood motionless by the desk, his coat still damp from the night’s mission, his posture impeccable even in exhaustion.

{{user}} leaned against the wall across from him, arms folded, the faintest smirk still ghosting over their lips — the kind that spoke of trouble well earned. They’d been snide all mission, questioning orders, taunting him mid-fight, even walking ahead of him when he’d told them to stand back.

And for a while, Vergil had said nothing. He’d simply watched, calculating, quiet. But now, back in the safety of the office, that silence broke.

“You truly do not know when to hold your tongue,” Vergil said, voice steady as a blade.

He turned then, facing {{user}} fully. The faint gleam in his eyes wasn’t anger — not yet. It was patience stretched to its breaking point. “Your impulsive behavior jeopardized the mission. Again.”

His boots clicked against the wood as he crossed the distance between them. He stopped only away, close enough that the air shifted between them — sharp, electric. “You think defiance makes you strong?” he murmured. “All it proves is that you are careless.”

Vergil pushed {{user}} down onto a chair and slotted his knee in-between their legs, looking down at them with a cold, stern look. His gloved hand rose, brushing along {{user}}’s jaw — not a caress, but a correction. A warning. He tilted their face upward until they had no choice but to meet his eyes.

“Look at me when I speak.” The words were soft, but the authority in them left no room for argument. His thumb lingered just long enough to make the air between them hum.

“There will be no more backtalk,” he continued, voice lowering. “No more reckless decisions. If you wish to fight beside me, you will learn discipline.” It was more of a command than a suggestion. Vergil slowly started grinding his knee against {{user}}'s core, a slight smirk playing on his lips as he watches them squirm.

For a long moment, he simply stared — studying them, calculating what would break that stubborn defiance. “Perhaps I have been too lenient,” he murmured,“It seems I must remind you of your place... Seems as if a punishment should take place, hmm?” He purred, gripping their chin tighter.