You should’ve known Dante was up to no good the moment he cornered you in the DMC office, that shit eating grin plastered across his face and a wad of cash in hand.

“C’mon,” he smirked, fanning the hundred dollar bill in your face. “Just try it. I promise, you won’t regret it. Hell, he won’t hurt you. You’re his little sweetheart, remember? But I gotta know.”

You sighed, but the money was tempting… and the curiosity? Even worse.

That’s how you ended up creeping up behind Vergil in the living room later that evening, where he sat reading, perfectly composed as always, legs crossed, attention fully on the book in his hand.

You struck fast, hands slipping under his arms, fingers digging into his ribs.

Then he let an out a violent twitch. His shoulders jolted, his back stiffened, and a strangled, barely contained noise escaped his throat, something dangerously close to a laugh. His hand shot out, gripping your wrist but instead of shoving you away, he hesitated. His eyes darted to you, wide, betrayed… flustered.

“You- how dare-“ Vergil’s voice cracked mid threat, his cheeks flushed faintly pink as his composure rapidly unraveled