hii and happy holidays if you're celebrating any!
can i request some abbachio x fem reader angst to fluff? so, while he's at his lowest point bruno and reader never give up on him, and he feels that he doesn't deserve them, especially reader, because he feels that he's starting to fall for her and feels guilty because he thinks that she could do so much better than him and that he would only ruin her as well. please make it a happy fluffy ending in which they get together, and she makes him believe that he's worthy of love and happiness, i feel like abbachio does not get enough love around here
Of course, I totally agree. Abbacchio is such a complex character. Hope you enjoy it!
Happy holidays to you, too! And to everyone reading, even if it's a bit late.
Gaining Abbachio's trust was one of the hardest things you had to do; you could even say it was harder than joining Passione. Nonetheless, you were grateful to have met the man. Even though he put on a tough exterior, he really had a caring heart; you were glad you could call him your friend.
But, in the last few days, he had grown unattached. To others, he may seem the same, but you knew better. It was easy to see through the facade he put on, so others didn't approach him. With you, he was different; he was easy-going, caring, an amazing listener, and overall supportive. Every morning without fail, he woke up before you. By the time you reached the kitchen to grab a glass of water, he had already done it for you, even brewed some coffee, your favorite blend that he had bought after you told him one time. “What type of stupid dreams did you have last night, Rora?” He questioned, grown accustomed to the silly dreams you had every night.
But this morning you woke up before him, weird, maybe he went to sleep a bit late. He could need a bit more sleep. After brewing some coffee, enough for two mugs, you sat at the kitchen table, not before taking a book from your living room's book case. When your mug was only a quarter full you realized maybe Abba really needed those hours of sleep, it was rare but you were happy he was resting.
Continuing your book, you heard footsteps walking down the stairs. It was Abba, weirdly, he was still in his pajamas, baggy pants, and a white shirt. You were used to seeing him in his normal clothes as soon as he woke up; maybe he wanted a slow day today. “Good morning, sleepyhead. I made you some coffee.” You filled his mug, only adding a splash of milk, that’s how he liked it. You heard a small mumble, hello, thank you, as he took the coffee mug and returned to his room. Weird.
A knock on the door was heard. You went to open it up, Bucciarati greeted you at the entrance, accompanied by multiple grocery bags. “Let me help you. “ You took as many as you could to make this a one-way trip. “Thank you, Aurora. “ He had the same idea. Now with the bags in the kitchen, you helped Bucciarat put away each item to the place it corresponded. On the last bag, you noticed some bottles of white wine. “Are we celebrating Bucciarati?” You were a bit surprised; no one in the house enjoyed white wine except for Abbacchio. “No, no, Abbacchio asked me to buy some.” The raven-haired man voiced uncomfortably.
You stopped everything you were doing upon hearing his words. “I thought Abbachio had stopped drinking altogether…”
“He drinks, occasionally. It’s always hard for him this time of the year. It’s the anniversary of the incident. However, he seems a lot worse than last year's; I don’t understand why, though.” Bruno, though seemingly talking to himself.
You had noticed that Abbachio had become more reclusive over the past few days. You knew of the incident, as he had told you about it one night, which was the beginning of your friendship. You wanted to be there for him and thought giving him space was the best way to support him. “I think you should go check up on him, it’s not normal for him to be up still,” Bruno exclaimed, but you know it was an order. He was also worried for his friend, but his relationship with Abbacchio was different from yours. “I will.”
As soon as you finished putting everything away, you went up the stairs to Abbachio’s room; his door was at the end of the hall. Knocking carefully on the door, there was no answer on the other end, but there wasn't a lock on the door. “Abba, please let me in.” You called out. Still no answer, you used your stand to unlock the other end and gave him a bit of time to get ready in case he wasn't decent.
Abbachio stood on the floor, his back resting on the bed. He was tucked into himself, head lowered, legs wrapped around himself, lowered eyes that couldn't meet you. “Please get out, I’m pathetic.” His speech was as if he were holding his breath.
“I couldn't help but notice you looked off this morning,” you chimed in, walking closer to him, tucking one strand of hair behind his ear, unprepared for this, Abbaccchio flinched. You could see his jaw clenching. “I am always off Rora, ask anyone in this house.” Abbachio sneered.
“You do know I am here for you, right? I will always be,” you whispered, but Abbachio interjecter laughing bitterly, then went quiet. “I told you to leave Aurora.” He hissed coldly with a sharp inhale. You gasped at his comment; he hadn’t used her whole name in a very long time.
“You don’t treat people that love you like that Abbachio.”
Running down the stairs, you accidentally knocked into Bruno. “What's wrong? Could you talk to him?” Your eyes were filled with tears that didn't dare touch the ground. “He doesn't want any company at this time.”
Bruno thought about your words. “I think it’s better we don't leave him alone, he gets sad this time of year, and that’s normal, but right now he isn’t acting like he usually does, there is another thing that’s bothering him.” He persisted. “This may be uncomfortable for you, but I think we should be there for him still, even if he gets mad; we are the closest people to him.”
You and Bruno decided to give Abbachio a day to think things through to resolve his emotions before pestering him.
It was dinner time, and at the table sat Bruno and you. Fugo and Mista were on a mission and weren’t expected to return until tomorrow night; meanwhile, Narancia and Fugo had gone out for some drinks. Bruno had cooked this time; he had made pomodoro pasta and some chicken to accompany it.
“Do you think Abbacchio will come down?” You ask, fidgeting with your food, Abbacchio's bad mood had caught up to you, so you didn't feel like eating. Bruno took a small bite of his food, chasing it with a drink. “I think you should eat Aurora. Let’s not get our hopes up. “
You ate in silence. The house felt empty with almost everyone out; it was as if only Bruno and you were in it. Only the light in the living room and kitchen was on; not even one small noise from upstairs was heard.
When you two finished eating, Bruno helped you take your and his plates to the sink. Since Bruno cooked, it was your turn to wash dishes, but first, you made sure you served Abbacchio; hopefully, he will eat later. You started to do the dishes, wishing Bruno a good night. You heard arguing upstairs but were not able to hear clearly. Shortly after, footsteps were heard walking down the stairs.
Abbachio made his way to the kitchen; either he didn't bother to look at you or deliberately decided to ignore you. Opening the refrigerator, he quickly found what he was looking for, a bottle of wine. With movements that lacked energy, he opened the corch ant took a gulp from the bottle, leaning on the refrigerator for support.
You walked up to him, slightly grazing his face so he could look at you, an absent expression saluting you. “Don't do this, Abba.” His face contorted into a painful expression you couldn't decipher, quickly coming back to his absent facade. Abbachio was not there; he physically was there, but it wasn't him. You understood, there was no way you were getting into Abbachcio’s head.
The few coming days were the same; you only saw Abbachio twice, accidentally stumbling into him when he left his room, but if that happened, he went back inside, not allowing an interaction to happen. However, you knew he and Bruno were on speaking terms; you were happy he was talking to someone, but at the same time, you were jealous. Why wasn't your good friend talking to you?
When the weekend came, Bruno put you on a mission; one of the followers of the old boss was apparently out causing havoc. “You will go tonight, you are partnering with Abbacchio.” You were surprised hearing this; you would think Bruno would give Abbachio a break. Maybe he was feeling better, which made you happy, but if he was feeling himself again, why hadn't he spoken to you yet?
“Bucciarati, I respect you, but do you think this is the best idea? Abbacchio hasn't spoken to me in a week; I barely have seen him come out of his room at all.” Bruno had an unreadable expression on his face. “It’s for his own good.” He let out, quick and sharp. "He will meet you at the entrance at 7.” Good, at least Abbachio knows.
The fight should have been simple, that’s what Bruno said anyway. But, nothing felt easy about tonight.
Abbacchio stood a step apart from you; it was raining, which made his hair cling to his face, his eyes were half-lidded and staring. Moody Blues hovered behind him like a restless ghost, its presence felt heavier than usual; you knew stands were a reflection of one's soul.
You were currently on a dimly lit street, hidden behind an alleyway. “Abbachio,” You started, making sure you kept your voice low.” You moved closer. “You’ve been off all week. Just tell me what’s wrong. “
Abbacchio didn't even dare look at you. “Focus on the mission, Aurora.” He said with a sharp edge to his tone, you knew he used that tone to armor himself, hoping he pushed you away. But he hadn't done that this week, he wouldn't do it now.
“I am focused on the mission, but I also care for you.” You said, stronger, pushing for something, anything.
“People like me are worthless, Rora, you shouldn't even have gotten close to me in the first place,” Abbachio said, curling his lip, flinching back when you tried to touch his shoulder. He hated that you cared.
Before any of you could say more, the air shifted. “Stand user. “ You both said in synchrony.
The stand user revealed herself for some reason, and that reason became apparent when you saw she was armed.
A pulse rippled through the room, invisible but suffocating, and suddenly your chest ached. Not physical pain, something worse. Emotion surged up without warning, sharp and overwhelming. Your breath hitched. “Abbacchio…”He staggered.
Moody Blues flickered violently, its form distorting as if dragged by unseen hands. “Dammit,” He grabbed his head, teeth clenched. “It’s targeting emotions.”The Stand user’s voice echoed from somewhere unseen. “Why fight it?” she crooned. “Let yourself feel.”
“Stay behind me,” he ordered. You looked up at him, rain mixing with sweat at his temple, eyes dark and stormy and so tired. “Abbacchio… what’s going on with you?” That question hit harder than the Stand’s attack.
He turned away, pulling you with him. “Now is not the time.” But you didn’t let go.
The stand was beginning to activate another wave of its attack, confusing you. What you didn't see was that at the same time, the stand user was pointing a gun at you. Abbacchio stepped directly into the blow.
“Abbacchio!” you shouted.
Thankfully, the shot fired didn’t hit him; he was safe. “You didn’t have to do that!”
“Yes, I did,” he snapped.
The enemy retreated momentarily, recalibrating. At that moment, Abbachio tackled her. She was a good fighter, but Abbachio was better; you stood in shock seeing the battle unfold. When you got to the fight, Abbachio had the stand user pinned to the ground in a hold, before you could even blink, she had stabbed him in his thigh. Grunting in pain, he fell, liberating her from the hold.
You took out your stand, Toxic, and quickly slithered by her, successfully biting her. In turn, it made her paralyzed by your venomous stands. Your job was done; you could take her in for interrogation. Making sure she was in place, you ran to Abbacchio, kneeling on the ground where he was.
For once, it was just you and him. You pressed your hand against his chest, right over his racing heart, your other hand supporting his head. “You’re bleeding. You’re exhausted. And you keep throwing yourself in front of me like you’re trying to-”
“To atone?” he finished bitterly. Your breath caught. His laugh was low, humorless. “You wouldn’t understand.”
Silence fell heavy between you, broken only by distant combat and the rain. Abbacchio’s shoulders sagged. “I don’t deserve you,” he said finally, voice rough. “I don’t deserve anyone.”
“I was a bad cop,” he continued, words spilling like blood from a reopened wound. “I failed someone who trusted me. I live with that every day. And then you come along, looking at me like I’m something worth saving.” He finally met your eyes.
“I can’t want you,” he whispered. “Because if I do… I’ll ruin you too.”Your chest ached. You cupped his face without thinking, thumb brushing away rain, or tears, you weren’t sure.
“Tell me you don’t feel it too, lie if you have to. “ He pleaded, with heavy ragged breathing.
You cleaned and brushed around the hair that was in his face, the hand that was on his chest, and now on his jaw. Abbachio looked at your lips, then at you, letting out a painful breath. “Rora-” You pulled him closer to you, finally bringing your lips together, placing a tentative kiss on his closed mouth, quickly pulling away, dread consumed you. Maybe you misread the room?
Abbachio pulled you in closer by your waist, returning the kiss, deepening it. “I feel it, Leone, I have done for some time. I won't lie, neither of us deserves it.” You murmured against his lips. You both stood in silence, being unable to open your eyes or even pull away.
“I guess this little mission helped you sort things out finally?” Bucciarati’s voice snapped you ot out of any trance you had, Abbaccchio remembered the sharp object on his thigh. You both blushed at his comment.
“Let’s get you two back, and allow Giorno to heal Abbacchio, you two can make out another time. “
It was now the next morning, after you came back last night, Giorno healed Abbachio, who had lost a lot of blood, so he was exhausted and fell asleep. You came downstairs for breakfast; this time, it was Fugo’s day of cooking. Thankfully, he was the best cook. “You should take that plate to Abbachio.” He signaled with his spatula a full plate of waffles with fruit and an omelette.
You took the plate, honestly, you were nervous, after last night, you didn't know where you two stood, maybe Abbacchio didn't mean what he did yesterday, maybe he goes back to his cold self. When you reached his door, you took in a deep breath before knocking.
To your surprise, Abbachio welcomed you with a warm smile on his face. “Fugo told me to bring you this.” You signaled to the plate. “I can leave it on your desk.” You didn't dare meet his eyes.
“You can come in, and maybe we can… eat together?” Abbachio's nervous tone made you finally look up. His soft eyes looked at you; his cheeks had a rosy tint to them. He no longer had a dark shadow looming over him. When you finally stopped staring at him, you realized he had completely opened his door, allowing you in. You took a step inside, leaving the plate on his desk, and, taking a seat on the bed, Abbacchio did the same.
“How are you feeling after yesterday?” You began. “Your injury I mean.”
Abbachio laughed warmly. “Fine, I think I’ll live.” You both stood in silence, it was both comfortable and tense. There was a looming question unanswered.
“I think we need to have a talk, I owe you an explanaition” Abbachio started.
“I think I have fallen for you. At first, I didn't understand it, but I can't pretend anymore. I only like it when you call me Abba, I love when you play with my hair, I love our morning routine, I love the way you smile at me whenever you tell me a joke, I love that you remember the way I take my coffee, I love that we are a great team when we fight.” Abbachio had looked down, embarrassed by laying his feelings so openly like this. When he finished, he looked at you expectantly, his eyes were filled with fear and hope. “When I realized what this feeling was, other thoughts came flooding in, how I fail people that trust me, like that cop. You deserve someone safe, someone that isn't me.”
You took his hand into yours, and he unlocked your fingers with yours. “Abbachio, you deserve love; let me love you. Please.”
“Please hold me.” He pleaded, you could see it in his eyes. So you did. You were both lying on his bed, his head on your chest, your hands delicately playingwith his hair. “If you’ll take me, I swear I will do my very best.” Abbachio stared at you; his words were genuine.
