Summary: My first M-rated fic ("Sins of the Father" doesn't count; those chapters are individually rated!). My original character, Heather, is caught between her own desires, and the love of everybody's favorite half-demon twins. Her heart is divided between them. Can she choose between them, especially once the stakes are upped? Or will Fate step in and take the choice away from all of them? Read and See!
Disclaimer: I know the twins, but I do not own the rights to Devil May Cry. If it didn't cost me one million dollars, my immortal soul, and my firstborn child I would buy it from them, but I can't, so I cannot claim ownership. Heather and Zak are mine, as are Reece and Kellian, Aeva and Michael, so if you take them, I will hunt you down and slay you!
Word to the Wise: This fic will have some pretty explicit sex scenes and language in it. No twincest (no one who knows the twins would ever think that could possibly happen!), simply good ol' girl-on-boy. If you don't like to read such things, or are offended by them, then I'd suggest you go back to the fic listings RIGHT NOW!!!
My Angel
"Mommy, look what Daddy and I made!" Michael bounded into the kitchen holding a wooden airplane painted red. Small black decals decorated the wings and sides. Dante wandered in shortly after his son, going to the fridge and grabbing a bottle of V8. He gulped down the entire bottle while Michael showed Heather the motor installed in the nose of the plane, enabling the propeller to spin. He looked at his mother with shining eyes. "Isn't that cool?"
Heather ruffled her son's hair affectionately. "Yes, it's very cool. Just don't try to fly it, okay? You don't want it to crash."
"Okay, Mommy." Michael ran off to show his uncles and sister his new toy. Heather smiled across the table at Dante.
"Energetic, isn't he?"
"Now I know why my mom was always running ragged when Vergil and I were little." The demon hunter sprawled in his chair, and threw his head back in a dramatic display of exhaustion. "Man! How much sugar did that kid have this morning?"
"Three bowls of Marshmallow Sugar Puffs." Heather smothered a laugh at the look on Dante's face.
"Why isn't he literally bouncing off the walls?"
"Tis a mystery of the universe." Heather sipped her cocoa, glancing at Dante over the rim. Damn, he looked good today!
Then men had been helping her heal the damage caused by her years on the streets. She no longer flinched away from their touch, and had even managed to share a few kisses with the twins. But further than that, they had not gone.
Maybe it was time to go further.
"Dante, are you doing anything tonight?"
"Yep." She gave him a startled look. "There's an infestation of moon-devils in a warehouse downtown. I actually have to leave soon if I want to get there by moonrise."
"Moon-devils?"
"You can only see them by the light of the moon. They're totally invisible otherwise. If someone hadn't glimpsed one yesterday, no-one would know what had caused those murders."
She sighed softly – there went her hopes for the evening – then got up and offered him a grin. "You be careful, okay? Don't want you limping how without the family jewels, after all." She reached over and ruffled his hair, and he growled playfully before smoothing it back down.
He got up too. "You're the only person who can get away with messing up my hair." An arm snaked out and pulled her to him, tight against his body. "Guess that means I love you, babe."
"I know that already." She twined her arms about his neck, slid her fingers back into his hair.
He brushed his lips against hers. "You talk too much."
"Never thought I'd hear you say that."
"Even I know when to shut up, babe." With that, he kissed her, the sensual shock of it making her knees weak as always. She'd always called them 'shock-kisses,' and the name fit. Vergil was an amazing kisser, but Dante's kisses could stop a woman in her tracks.
He finally released her and grabbed his leather coat. "Be back soon, babe. Shouldn't take too long. Maybe we can actually finish that tonight…?"
"Yeah." Heather watched him go, then went to find Vergil. She needed a man. Now.
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She found him in the basement lifting weights, a part of his daily routine. Normally after this he would work with Yamato, or Beowulf, keeping his fighting skills at their absolute peak. It was yet another practice which set the twins apart. Dante wasn't nearly this devoted to self-improvement.
Vergil lifted his head off the bench as Heather came down the stairs. "Hey, angel."
"Hey. Where's Aeva?" The little girl spent much of her time down her with her father in the evenings, learning from him. Heather didn't complain; if it kept her happy, who was she to deny her daughter's pleasure?
"She went upstairs to play with Zak. Watching me lift weights bores her this night, it seems."
"She just doesn't appreciate good muscle yet." Heather strolled over to the bench, and lithely straddled his waist, fingers tracing the well-defined muscles of his torso. "But I do."
He looked at her through hooded eyes. "How far are we taking this, angel?"
She leaned forward, forcing him to set the heavy barbells back on their hooks. She gently bit his throat, making him shudder.
"All the way."
A hand reached up to tangle in her hair, holding her steady so his azure eyes could search her green ones. "Are you sure about this, angel?"
"If I wasn't, would I be here?" She bent her head to kiss him.
His free hand reached between them, leisurely working her top upwards. "I suppose not."
"Don't be gentle, okay, Vergil? I have to know if I can still handle it rough."
In response, he yanked her down for a brutal kiss.
Their mating was the same as it had always been. Heady and passionate, with a hint of danger to add some spice. Hot and sweaty. Utterly silent. Vergil allowed his woman to take the reigns, letting her control the pace for this first time in so long.
Heather realized this while riding him. She looked down at him, slowing the pace to the point that his fingers tightened on her hips.
"Don't stop," he hissed through clenched teeth.
"I won't, but…" She gasped sharply as he moved beneath her, a short upward thrust. "You're holding back. Let go."
He shook his head, muscles straining as he fought against the pleasure, trying to make it last. "I don't want…to hurt you."
"I trust you not to hurt me." She reached up to touch his spiky hair. "Let go."
"No…"
"Please…" She threw her head back, baring her throat to him. Female submission, even whilst in control.
That did it.
His eyes gleamed red, but he didn't transform. Instead, Vergil pushed her off him, onto the padded black mat covering the floor. Knowing the game he played, Heather crawled away from him as quickly as she could, until he leaped in front of her, blocking her escape. She fell backwards and sprawled on the mat, staring up at him with wide eyes.
A deep, predatory growl rumbled from his chest as he gazed upon her, and he dropped to all fours, slowly moving so he straddled her. His crimson eyes sent a thrill of fear through her, but it was also deeply exciting, even after all she had been through.
He bent his elbows, until he lay fully on her, within her, his eyes still locked with her own.
Then the movement began, and they were lost in velvet darkness, laced with ultimate ecstasy and terrible danger, dancing on the knife-edge of control.
It was all that either of them had ever wanted, all that they had ever asked for. A complete merging of their souls, a deeper coupling than anything their bodies could accomplish, even more than their hearts.
Rapture…
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Dante leaned against the wall and smirked at his sleeping brother and woman. They lay in each other's arms, oblivious to everything around them, exhausted by their exertions. He could probably tap-dance on them and they'd remain asleep.
His job was over for the night. Moon-devils, despite their camouflage, were pretty easy to kill. He'd been hoping to catch some action with Heather, and had come home to this.
He wasn't bitter, or even upset. Heather was meant to be shared between him and Vergil; the fact that they had both gotten her pregnant proved that.
He'd get his turn with her later.
Dante turned and went back up the stairs. He needed a shower.
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Vergil rolled onto his side and watched Heather sleep. She was so beautiful, his angel. Her beauty was a hidden thing, visible only when one got to know the real woman beneath the skin. She was not lovely on the surface, but if one dug deep enough, there was beauty to be found in abundance.
He loved her for far more than fast-fading beauty. Heather was far more than just another painted whore, a useless woman.
He could share her with his brother, if only so she wouldn't abandon him again. He loved her enough to share her.
Vergil considered that last thought. When had he fallen in love with her? He had tried to avoid emotional attachments ever since his mother had been killed, since Dante had brought him back from Hell and Temi-ni-gru had collapsed. He had tried to encase his heart in ice, in stone, but somehow Heather had melted the ice, chipped away the stone, and claimed the beating organ within as her own.
She was truly an angel, to have accomplished such a miracle. She had brought him back from the edge of the abyss, saved him from utter madness.
His angel.
Mother of his child.
His love.
His mate.
Vergil gathered her into his arms, holding her close to his heart. He inhaled the sweet scent of her skin, her hair, and pulled her atop him. He enjoyed the feeling of her body resting atop his, especially after so long, and drifted back into slumber.
Perhaps then, more than any other time in his life, he was exactly like his father.
A devil in the arms of his soul-mate.
My angel…