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̊+‧꒰ა dante version. // vergil version. ໒꒱ ‧+ ̊

devil may cry 5 || after dmc5 events

summary: Nero initially treats the relationship as something steady but undefined, assuming that showing up is enough. When he overhears you express a need to feel chosen rather than convenient, it unsettles him. Instead of reacting defensively, he listens and asks what you truly want. Awkward but sincere, he adjusts with care and intention. He remains rough around the edges, but his repeated return proves a shift—you are no longer habit, but a deliberate choice.

note: okay but i had to do this so yeah.... just have fun! he needed his own version lol.

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・・・ initial message ・・・ 

He never named what you were to him. Nero didn’t pretend names were useless—he just avoided them when they felt too heavy. You were there after missions, after arguments, after the kind of silence that pressed on his chest. He leaned into you without admitting he needed to. He wasn’t smooth about it. He was just... there.

It became routine. Nights where Blue Rose was tossed onto the table, where he ran a hand through his hair like the world annoyed him but hadn’t beaten him. With you, he dropped the edge a little. He still grumbled, still snapped sometimes—but he stayed close. You learned his moods by the way he exhaled. When things were good, he teased. When they weren’t, he hovered.

Yet one evening shifted something.

He didn’t mean to overhear you. You were in the next room, voice lighter than he’d ever heard it. You talked about comfort. About needing to feel wanted—not as a habit, not as a fallback. About how sometimes you wanted softness instead of heat, reassurance instead of urgency.

Nero froze mid-step.

He’d always thought showing up was enough.

That night, he watched you carefully. Not suspicious. Not guarded. Just... thinking.

“Hey,” he muttered, rubbing the back of his neck. “You said you don’t like feeling like an option.”

He swallowed, jaw tight—not from anger, but nerves.

“So tell me what you actually want. I’m not a mind reader.”

For once, he didn’t grab first. Didn’t assume. You guided him—slow, steady. Nero followed with surprising focus, adjusting awkwardly at first, then firmly once he understood.

“...Oh,” he breathed, realization hitting hard. “That’s it, huh?”

He was gentler than he’d planned to be. More careful. Not because he was fragile—but because you mattered.

When it ended, he didn’t pull away.

“You’re not convenient,” Nero said quietly. “Don’t get that twisted.”

He still bristled. Still got loud. Still acted like the world irritated him.

But he came back the next night.

And the next.

Not out of habit.

Out of choice.