Yet another fic based on my life and how Vergil would hate me if he were real because I'm genuinely obsessed with him and would weird him out </3 This is kinda like sweet girl except you are PAINFULLY obvious and not slick at all. You chalant as hellllll
Nero’s Weird Friend
One-sided Vergil x Reader (reader loves him)
Warnings: you're in love with him and he is painfully aware of the age-gap (early/mid-twenties reader and early forties Vergil), there is no romance tbh, curse words, I wrote in Nico's accent kill me if you must
“Stop staring at my dad.”
You nearly choked on your drink. Nero leaned against Nico’s van with his arms crossed, staring at you like he was exhausted beyond words.
“I wasn’t staring.” It was a poor excuse on your part and you both knew it.
“Bullshit.”
“I was.. um?.. observing.”
“Same thing.” he rolls his eyes.
“Not the same thing.”
“It absolutely is.” he sassed.
Across the garage, Vergil stood near the workbench flipping through one of Nico’s repair manuals with the same attention he gave ancient texts and demonic archives: unreadable, completely composed, and unapproachable.
Nico slid out from beneath the van, wiping grease across her cheek with the back of her wrist. “Ya got that look again.”
“What look?” you snap your eyes over to her.
“The one like yer about to ask him to step on ya.”
“NICO!” you exclaimed, utterly appalled she could read your mind.
“What?” she snorted.
“I hate both of you.” Nero groaned.
“I hate me too,” you muttered.
Unfortunately, Vergil looked up. Directly at you. Your entire body locked as he held eye contact with you for exactly two seconds, then returned to the manual. It somehow felt worse than him telling you how poor gunmanship was and he doesn't even use a gun.
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Everyone had a weakness. Nero’s was his motorcycle, Nico’s was explosions, Dante's was a hot pizza and an even hotter babe, and yours (for reasons you deeply regretted) was Vergil and not in a normal way. Not in a passing he’s attractive way. Not even in a harmless older man crush way. At some point it had become… noticeable. Painfully noticeable.
You knew things you absolutely shouldn’t know about a man that was at least 20 years older than you who also happened to not only be your best friend's father, but your boss' twin brother. You knew he preferred earl grey over black tea. You knew he disliked unnecessary noise before sunrise. You knew the exact sound Yamato made against wood versus concrete. You knew his footsteps before he entered a room. Which was insane. You knew it was insane and eventually so did everyone else. Especially Vergil.
It started with him leaving whenever you arrived. At first, you thought it was coincidence. Then it happened again and again... and again. You’d walk into Devil May Cry, Vergil standing by the bookshelf. He’d glance up, see you, snap the book closed, and leave. No words. No acknowledgment. Gone.
The first time? You kinda thought it was a weird coincidence. He probably just remembered he had something to do the second you stepped through the door. No biggie. The second? Once again, dismissive and not that big of a deal. By the fifth? It was utterly humiliating. By the sixth? Nico laughed so hard she nearly fell off a stool.
“He LEFT.” she said cackling and pointing in your face.
“I saw.” you said, taking a seat on the couch, staring holes into the floor.
“He didn’t even try to hide it.” her giggles continued.
“I know.” you murmured, picking at the bottom of your shirt, not breaking eye contact with the floor.
Nero grimaced from the couch. “…Yeah.”
You turned slowly. “You noticed?”
“Everybody noticed.” Nero said.
You considered walking directly into traffic.
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Then came the avoiding. If you were in the garage, Vergil stayed upstairs. If you were upstairs, Vergil stayed outside. If you were in the kitchen, he’d enter, see you, and immediately leave. Once you were carrying laundry through the upstairs hallway when he stepped out of Dante’s office. You nearly collided.
"Oh!" you say startled. "Sorry, Vergil!"
That's all you said. A genuine apology for almost smacking him with a laundry basket. Vergil looked at you and turned around instantly, walking the other direction. You stood frozen holding the towel basket against your hip, shock and embarrassment written all over your face. Nico saw the whole thing from the stairs.
“Oh. my gawd.” she wheezed from the staircase with the other laundry basket she was following you with.
“Don’t.” you whispered.
“He literally U-turned.”
“I know.”
“Like a frightened deer.”
“I. KNOW.” you shouted.
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You tried fixing it. You really, really tried. You tried being normal. Less staring. Less hovering. Less asking Nero questions like:
“Does your dad always sharpen Yamato himself?”
“Why do you care?”
“No reason.” you shrugged.
“Creepy.” he said under his breath, giving you a side eye.
That shut you right the hell up. You stopped lingering. You stopped looking whenever he crossed the room. Or at least you tried, but it didn’t matter. Because by then Vergil had already formed an opinion. You were strange and he treated you accordingly. Like something mildly concerning that might unexpectedly follow him home.
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One afternoon Nico sent you upstairs to grab one of Dante’s old ledgers from his office. Just an easy and quick little adventure so she can see the logs between gun/sword maintenance and cleanings. A grab it and leave kind of thing. You found the book, tucked it against your chest, and stepped into the hallway just as Vergil emerged from the bathroom.
You froze. He froze too. There was nowhere to go. Trapped in a narrow hallway with a man that can't even stand to be within 5 ft of you. There was no side exit, no escape. You gave a tiny, awkward nod.
“Hello.” it left your mouth small and quiet. You were just trying to be polite.
Vergil said nothing. He walked forward and you stepped against the wall to let him pass, his sleeve brushing yours for barely half a second. Your brain immediately short-circuited. And because the universe despised you, you smiled. Small, instinctive, hopelessly obvious even though you meant it for just yourself.
Vergil stopped walking and your stomach dropped. Slowly, he turned, his expression was flat, cold and tired. Like patience worn dangerously thin.
“You need to stop.”
Your breath caught. “What?” it came out as a small squeak.
“This.” He gestured toward you vaguely. Your face. Your expression. Your entire presence.
“I- I don’t know what you mean.”
“You do.” His voice was clipped. “Your behavior is strange.”
Heat flooded your face instantly. “Vergil I-”
“You stare.” You went still as he interrupted you.
“You follow.” Your throat tightened. “You appear wherever I am.”
“That’s not-”
“It is.” Silence fell around you both, his words cutting through you and gaze remaining fixed on you.
“If I leave a room, you enter it shortly after.” Your fingers tightened around the ledger.
“If I speak, you stop what you’re doing to listen.” You looked at the floor.
“You watch me as though I am some kind of... curiosity.” He exhaled through his nose.
“I have ignored it for weeks.” That hurt more than expected. “But it has become increasingly difficult to tolerate.”
You felt physically ill.
“You are Nero’s friend.” You nodded once. “That is the reason I have been patient, but I need you to understand something clearly.”
You forced yourself to look up.
“I am not interested in your attention, and I do not welcome it. I do not misunderstand it, and I do not return it.”
Your hands trembled slightly around the ledger, forcing yourself to look up at him. The silence rang louder than shouting.
Your voice came out embarrassingly small, cracking halfway through your scentence. “…I didn’t realize it was that obvious.”
“It is.”
You nodded your head, swallowing the lump in your throat. “…Understood.”
Vergil held your gaze one last second.
Then, quieter: “Whatever fascination you have with me…keep it to yourself.”
Then he walked past you down the stairs without another word. You stayed in the hallway for several minutes after he left, holding Dante’s ledger so tightly the edges dug into your palms. Your face burned and your chest felt hollow. You kept replaying it.
'Your behavior is strange.'
'I am not interested in your attention.'
'Whatever fascination you have with me… keep it to yourself.'
You swallowed hard, your back against the old wallpaper. Then, after a deep breath, you forced yourself downstairs. Nico looked up first from the desk, Nero glanced over from the couch, and both immediately went still. You made it halfway across the living room before setting the ledger down a little too hard on Dante’s desk. Neither of them said anything at first.
Nico slowly pulled off one of her gloves. “…Wut happened?”
You opened your mouth. Nothing came out because suddenly your throat hurt and your eyes burned.
Nero sat up immediately. “Hey.”
You laughed once, small and miserable, then covered your face before either of them could really see it. “I'm so fucking stupid.”
Your voice cracked halfway through the sentence.
Nico froze. “Oh no.”
“Oh yes,” you whispered. You tried to laugh again. It came out shaky. Then your shoulders betrayed you. Your breath hitched and suddenly tears were slipping through your fingers before you could stop them.
Nico’s expression dropped instantly. “Oh shit-”
Nero was already on his feet, guiding you to sit on the couch. “Whoa! Hey.”
“I’m fine,” you said automatically. Which would’ve been more believable if you weren’t actively crying your eyes out so hard you were choking on your breath.
Nico walked closer. “No, yer definitely not, sweetie.”
You wiped at your face too fast. Which only made more tears fall.
“’m okay,” you repeated.
Nero crouched in front of you. “What happened?”
You looked at him through wet eyes and immediately wanted to disappear. “Your father happened.”
Nero physically winced. “Oh no.”
You laughed weakly through tears. “Yeah...”
Nico pulled a stool over and sat in front of you too. “What’d he say?”
You inhaled shakily. Then said it before you could lose the nerve. “He told me I was strange.”
“…He actually said that?” Nico blinked.
You nodded as fresh tears immediately spilled over your lashes. “And he said he finds me difficult to tolerate.”
Nero dropped his face into his hands. “Oh my god.”
“And he said he’s not interested and that he doesn’t welcome my attention and that I need to keep whatever weird fascination I have with him t-to mys-selffff.....” Your voice broke completely into your sobs, hiccupping through your words.
You covered your mouth with your hand as tears kept falling. “I didn’t even realize it was that obvious. I mean I knew it was obvious, but I didn't realize I was THAT bad.”
Nico’s eyes widened. “Jesus Christ.”
Nero looked devastated for you. “Did he really say all that?”
You nodded miserably. “He said he’s been ignoring it for weeks.”
Nico muttered a horrified “Dayum.”
You wiped under your eyes with your sleeve. “I’m never coming back here.”
“Yes you are,” Nero said immediately.
“No, I’m moving.” you choked out.
“You said that last week because Nico laughed at your playlist.” Nero said rubbing your back.
“This time I mean internationally.” almost entirely serious.
Nico reached over and squeezed your shoulder. You laughed through tears again then immediately cried harder.
“Oh no,” Nico said quietly.
“Stop looking at me like that.” you whispered miserably.
“I’m ain't lookin at you weird.” Nico defends.
“You are.”
“I’m lookin at cha with concern.”
“That’s worse.” you whined.
Nero handed you a rag from the workbench since apparently that was the closest thing available to a tissue. You took it and pressed it to your eyes.
“This is humiliating.”
“Yeah,” Nico said.
“Thank you.” you said sarcastic, your eyes still watery.
“But in a deeply tragic way.” she pressed.
“Thank you so much, Nico.” you said, throwing your hands down onto your lap. "Boy, am I lucky to have you as my best friend."
Nero leaned closer to you on the couch, putting his arm over your shoulder. “He was harsh.”
“Mm-hm.” You sniffed, laying your head on his shoulder.
“Way harsher than he needed to be.” he spoke into your hair.
You stared at the floor, shaking your head. “He wasn’t wrong.”
Neither of them answered immediately because that was the worst part. He wasn’t wrong. Maybe intense and brutal, but not wrong. You did stare. You did listen for him. You did notice every tiny thing. And now he knew. And worse he’d been uncomfortable enough to avoid you over it. Enough to leave rooms when you entered. Enough to turn around in hallways. Enough to finally say it out loud.
Nico rubbed your back once. “Yer not weird.”
You gave her a flat tearful look. “I know things about his tea preferences.”
“…Okayyyy....” she drawled out.
“I can recognize his footsteps.”
“Okay, that one’s rough.” Nero admitted.
“I know the difference in what Yamato sounds like against hardwood, tile, concreate, and when its being unsheathed.” you named off on your fingers.
Nico sighed. “…Yeah.”
Nero groaned. “Okay maybe a little weird.”
You made a wounded noise, playfully shoving him away. “Not helping.”
“But,” he added quickly, “not in a bad way.”
You dragged the rag down your face. “Your stupid dad thinks otherwise.”.
Then Nico leaned closer.
“Well…” she trailed off. “He’s weird too.” She shrugged.
You snorted despite yourself. Then laughed. Then cried again immediately after.
Nero sighed. “Better?”
“No.”
“Fair.” he sighed.
You sat there between them for a while after that. Still sniffling. Still embarrassed. Hands still wrapped around Nico’s grease-stained rag like it was doing anything helpful while leaning against Nero's shoulder. The living room settled into a softer quiet around you. Music humming low, the sound of pipes ticking as they cooled.
And for once, you weren’t listening for footsteps upstairs. Weren’t glancing toward the staircase. Weren’t wondering if Vergil might walk into the room. Because now you knew. No confusion. No maybe. No false hope. Vergil was uninterested, and he had made sure you understood it with brutal clarity.
It hurt. Far more than you expected. Not just because he rejected you, but because he’d seen every embarrassing part of it. Every moment you thought maybe no one noticed, he noticed. And he wanted distance. And somehow that hurt worse than anything.
Nico nudged your shoulder. “C’mon, creepy. Help me with the carburetor.”
You sniffed. “I’m emotionally destroyed.”
“Yup.” she says walking off.
Nero stood from the couch, clapping your shoulder. “You can be emotionally destroyed while holding a flashlight.”
You looked between them with red eyes. “…You guys suck.”
Nico grinned. “Probably.”
But you stood anyway. Even with tears drying on your face. Even with your chest still aching.
I would genuinely harass him, I fear. He'd probably kill me.
reading this anytime I get too happy with liking Vergil
