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teaspacebar · 17 days

Text

spiced chai

pairing: carmen "carmy" berzatto x reader

summary: you've been living in chicago for about a year, and you're suddenly managing the coffee shop in the well beloved bookstore, nan's. you meet carmen berzatto on a not-so-good day. you're thrust into the everchanging societal landscape that is making friends in your 20s..

word count: ~9.7k

warnings: language, depictions of mental illness, barista!reader, afab!reader (but tried to be as neutral as possible), neurodivergent!reader, they don't kiss, could be read as platonic tbh but there's crumbs in there if you look, takes place over the course of a few months, probably doesn't follow canon fully (i'm not caught up yet forgive me)

a/n: *dumps this here and runs* but actually this piece of writing appeared in my brain and i've been picking away at it for a couple of months. i feel like i've put more of myself into this fic than with anything else i've written, so this is definitely more of a self insert (pls be kind or don't read if that's not your vibe). i'm queer, non-binary, and autistic and i just wanted to insert that into this space. i feel like there's more to explore here, so i might write more for this if i feel so inclined.

Meeting Carmen Berzatto was not on your to-do list for Tuesday morning.

Not that having to run down to the nearest corner store to grab milk - since the milk fridge was on the fritz…again - at 4am was in your plans either. It always seemed like one step forward, three giant leaps back with the little shop on the corner you basically called home. It was weird, to be thrust into leadership as your manager made an abrupt exit.

The small bookstore, with an even tinier coffee shop, had been your place of work for the last year or so. You loved it. The people were great, and Nan, the shop owner, was absolutely lovely. She was getting up in her years, but the genuine care she had for the employees made all the difference. She put her trust in you to run the cafe, saying “You have the experience, and the care you have for people shows. I know this. Everyone knows this. Now you just have to see it - have confidence.”

“Confidence my ass,” you mutter, carrying five gallons of milk around the corner.

What happens next might have been considered the beginning of a rom-com, but you’re a realist, and the world is shitty.

There’s a crash, and the distinct sound of three of the five gallons of milk dropping onto the sidewalk. You stare, watching in slow motion as the milk forms into a river, dripping off the sidewalk into the gutter.

The person who ran into you curses, “Shit — fuck, sorry, I—I wasn’t looking where I was…dammit.”

You grip the other two jugs in your arms, blinking out of the haze to let out a hysterical laugh. “Great…cool cool.” Cold plastic bites into your fingers, and you take a deep breath. “Yeah, okay, what else was gonna happen?” You finally look up to see the one you collided with. The man looks extremely uncomfortable, foot tapping like he wants to bolt. Plastering on a smile you shake your head, “It’s fine. I’m the one who thought carrying five gallons of milk would be fine.” You ramble on, trying to ease his nerves, “I mean — why would I drive, like, thirty seconds. Park, get the milk, come all the way back. Seemed stupid…but now there’s milk in my socks.” You grimace, fighting the urge to chuck the remaining jugs of milk in the street so you could also hurl your milk-soaked shoes and socks after them. It makes the ache in your chest sharpen.

“Here, where are you —“

You cut him off, “No, no, it’s okay. I got it, thank you.” You gesture to the door that’s just a few feet away from you. “This is me, anyway.” You adjust your hold on the milk, brushing past the man to pull open the door. You catch it with your hip, not daring to look back as you head behind the counter. You release a sigh, setting the bane of your existence on the black speckled marble.

“Fuck,” you whisper, pressing the backs of your hands to your eyes. You shake out your arms, biting your lip. “Okay, asshole, let’s get your shit together.” You quickly put the milk into the small fridge below the bar and walk to the back. The squish of your socks curdles your stomach, and you breathe through your mouth to avoid the smell. You take off your shoes, throwing them into a plastic bag to take home. Tossing your socks into the garbage, you grab your replacement sneakers and socks from your cubby. It wasn’t the first time you’ve dropped something on your shoes, it wouldn’t be the last.

You take your time in the back. You had gotten to the shop around 4am, unable to sleep. You were messing around with recipes, seeing if there was a possibility of baking some of the food in the cafe fresh, instead of outsourcing. It was something you put on your own plate, and you didn’t want to disappoint Nan. You had shown up early, looking to try out some muffins, and noticed the fridge had been hovering at sixty degrees all night. You’ll have to grab some more milk before the day starts, but that could be a problem for 8am you.

Walking through the swinging doors, you jump as you see someone at the bar counter. Pressing a hand to your fluttering heart, you finally take in the man that had run into you earlier. A mop of curly hair on his head, white tee, very blue eyes…and standing behind eight gallons of milk.

“Um…” you look between the milk and him a few times.

“The…uh – the door was unlocked. Figured I owed you one.” He rubs the back of his neck.

“How’d you even get it all here?”

“Made two trips.” His gaze snaps back to you as you laugh, this time more genuine. “Fridge go out, or somethin’?” You’re still staring at him like he has two heads, and he rambles on, “Sorry for just…barging in. I used to go to this place…when I was kid. My sister and I would grab whatever pastries they had left for the day. And, yeah, we’d just sit, read random shit. I work at the restaurant just down the street…’s why I ran into you. Wasn’t paying attention – sorry, again.”

Suddenly, it all clicks. “You own The Bear.”

“Uh, yeah – yeah, I do.”

You feel nervous, out of the blue. Nan hadn’t stopped talking about the Berzatto’s, and Natalie had become a regular while the restaurant was being remodeled. You’re sure you’d seen other employees come in as well, for reading material. You vaguely remember talking to a very sweet man about baking, as he carried a ton of cookbooks in his arms.

You knew Carmen Berzatto, but only through the words of others – and the research you did late one night because you were nosey. To have him standing in the bookstore you worked at, for him to have gotten you milk, is sending you for a loop. Swallowing a lump in your throat, you begin to put the milk in their new home. You really need to call the refrigerator guy again.

“That’s so cool,” the words fall from your mouth, others staying in your head.

It's insane that someone like him is even speaking to you. He’s around the same age as you; He owns a restaurant and you’re barely able to run a tiny coffee bar in a bookstore. You’re an idiot who dropped milk onto the sidewalk. Why didn’t you just take the car? You should’ve just taken the car. Now Carmen fucking Berzatto has bought you milk at 5am because he feels bad for you. How pathetic. Call the fucking refrigerator guy.

“Thanks…for the milk.” You back away from the counter, gesturing behind you, “Lemme grab some money from the cash box real quick.”

“No, don’t worry about it.”

“It’s really fine, you didn’t have to go out of your way. I’ll be right back.” The itch creeps its way up your spine, and you push through the door as a shudder passes through you. You shake out the twitch, going and grabbing the cash box. You do mental math, trying to see how much you should give him. Did he even need the money? “Idiot,” you chide yourself. Today was not the day for your brain.

Snagging a twenty and a ten, you rush back out to the bar, only to find the store empty. A groan escapes through your teeth, and you clench the cash in your hands, crumpling it. You walk to the front door, peering out to see if you can spot the chef. He must’ve made a quick getaway. As you turn to get prepped for the day, you spot a brochure on the counter, far away from its home of the stand at the front of the bookstore. Eat Your Way Through Chicago!

Scribbled on the front is a phone number, and the words:

Fridge Ask for Fak Say Carm sent you

“Fucking fuck.” You whisper, a smile creeping on your face against your will, “Asshole.”

It’s later in the week when you hear the bell attached to the front door – ding! You poke your head up from where you're arranging some alternative milks under the counter, seeing a familiar blonde.

“Hey, Natalie!” You pop up, an easy grin appearing on your face. “Half-caff?”

She nods, “Please.”

“How are you?”

“Oh, you know.”

You ring her up quickly, then grab a pitcher to steam some milk for her latte. Natalie walks away from the counter to browse some books. The steam wand whirs, and you watch the vortex inside the pitcher. You touch the sides every so often, waiting for it to get to the right temperature. Making drinks is all muscle memory now, and you tamp the espresso grounds into the portafilter with precision. Wiping the excess from the lip, you lock it into the machine and press the shot button. As the shot pulls, you wipe down the steam wand with a wet cloth.

“Is this any good?” Natalie has come back over, holding up a book with a half-naked man on the front.

You laugh, “It’s a Nan recommendation, so…” The shots are poured into the paper cup, and you swirl the milk into it, doing a quick tulip design. You sprinkle a little cinnamon over the top, before placing it in front of the woman.

“Smutty then, for sure.” Natalie laughs, then does a little excited gasp when she sees the latte art. “It looks so good every time!”

“Thanks,” you reply, “Gets covered by the lid, but it’s fun to practice.”

“Too bad you don’t have for-here mugs,” she says thoughtfully.

“Ever the idea-haver! There'd be more spills to clean up – Nan would lose her mind if any books got ruined.” You point to the book still in her hand, “You want me to ring you up for that?” It was early enough in the afternoon that the only other person here was a part-timer, Jack, somewhere between the shelves stocking books. You had convinced Nan to upgrade to a different register system (which ended up saving money in the long run), so you’re able to ring up both books and café products at your register.

She shakes her head, sighing. “I barely have any time to read, these days. I was thinking about trying out audiobooks? I used to listen to them at my old job, but it’s way too loud in the kitchen for that to work out.” The latte goes to her mouth, a pleasant hum leaving her as she takes a sip. “You’re the best.”

“Thanks, Natalie.”

She squints at you, “It’s Nat, c’mon.” A big conspiratorial grin makes its way onto her face, “So, I heard that you got some help with your fridge.”

A sharp pain twists in your chest. “Oh, um…yeah.” You let out a soft chuckle, “It’s working, which is great. Neil was a big help.”

“He said you made him the best hot chocolate he’s ever had,” Natalie taps the counter with her pointer finger twice. “Said he didn’t know how you got his number, though.”

You shrug, wiping down the counter, “Nan had it. And the usual guy wasn’t calling me back.” Neil had told you the exact same thing, both about the drink and the number. Something had held you back from saying where you got the number from. Embarrassment, maybe? It felt weird, feeling like you owed anyone favors, or that things would be unbalanced. People usually never give without looking to receive.

“Frankie, right? He’s an asshole. Overcharges for everything.” Natalie doesn’t push you for answers, something you’re grateful for.

“Right! He disappeared one time and said he’d ‘be right back’ and then was gone for like, two hours! And he added that to his hourly!” The two of you giggle at the shittiness of people for a minute, when a ping causes Natalie to pull her phone from her pocket.

“I should run.” She reaches into her purse, and puts a five into your tip jar. “Thanks again!”

As she turns to go, you call out her name. “Would you - maybe - I have some extra muffins. The place we get them from gave us some of the wrong ones…or they’re a tad over baked, or something. I can’t sell them. Would you wanna take them with you?”

“That’s so sweet of you! Yeah, I’m sure they’ll get eaten up.”

You grab the box of muffins, handing them over to her, “Thanks.”

“Thank you, babe.” She leaves with a smile, and you look down to brush the flour off your apron.

“Hey, guys, I got some goodies!” Natalie sets the box of muffins on the table, where everyone is seated for family meal.

Neil immediately grabs the box, pointing to the sticker on the top, “You went to Nan’s? Man, I could use a hot chocolate right now.”

“I’m sure you can walk over there and order one, my love.” Natalie replies, waving for him to put the box back on the table.

Marcus snags two muffins, handing one to Sydney who is sitting on his right. Taking a bite, he stops chewing, eyebrows raised. “Dude,” he nudges the girl next to him.

“Dude,” Syd parrots, popping some muffin into her mouth. “Wait, woah.”

“That’s what I’m saying!”

“Nat, where did you get these?” Sydney calls to the woman now sitting at the end of the table. The muffins are passed down the rest of the table.

Marcus has started dissecting the muffin, “Macadamia nuts, sick.”

“Oh they’re from Nan’s just down the corner!” She tells them how you offered them to her since they were the wrong ones from a vendor and possibly over-baked.

Syd snorts, “Over-baked? These are perfect!”

“What’s perfect?” Carmy walks out of the kitchen, wiping his hands on a towel.

“Bear, come eat!” Natalie waves him over, pulling him into the seat next to hers. “You’ve been at it all morning, take a minute, okay?” She gives him a look that tells him not to argue, and he huffs in response, but does as she says.

“What’s perfect?” He asks again, taking the muffin box from Sweeps as it’s passed to him. As the cinnamon crumble topping hits his taste buds, he leans back in his chair. “Shit.”

“That’s what we’re saying!”

Syd and Marcus begin talking over one another, the dull roar of family making its home in Carmy’s ears. He has another bite of muffin, thumb swiping over the sticker atop the box.

Nan’s Books & Brews

Simple lettering, surrounding a doodle of a coffee cup sitting on an open book.

“When did they,” he clears his throat as he leans closer to Nat, “when did they start doin’ stuff like this?”

Natalie purses her lips, “Not sure, honestly. They only had that small coffee machine and that plastic pastry case when we were growing up, remember? I think they added the actual coffee bar right before Covid?” Carmy nods, looking out the windows, a curdle in his stomach.

“A lot’s changed,” he murmurs.

“Yeah,” Nat sighs, a hand over her stomach, “a lot has.”

A few weeks go by, as uneventful as they can be. You try out more recipes, and the staff of Nan’s is always sent home with one treat or another. Muffins, cinnamon rolls, croissants (which were a bust), and the like. Natalie is still a regular, and Neil has shown up to save your ass more than once. The brochure with his number on it taunts you from where it’s stuck up on the corkboard in the back.

Which is what has led you to standing in front of The Bear, a joe-to-go in one hand, paper bag in the other. An envelope burns in the inner pocket of your flannel jacket. Steeling your nerves, you knock on the door. Some yells are heard from inside, nicknames getting passed around like it’s a holiday dinner. You see a man walk towards you, in a nice suit, and he opens the door.

“Can I help you?” It’s not said unkindly, but there’s a look in his eyes that’s making you nervous.

“Coffee delivery?” You say sheepishly, holding up the coffee traveler by its cardboard handle.

“Richie, who’s at the - hey!” Natalie immediately smiles when she sees you, and you sigh a breath of relief. Things were easy with her; she had this amazing way of comforting you without even trying.

“Hi,” you wiggle your fingers, still keeping hold of the objects in your hands. “Wanted to say thanks for all the help Neil’s been giving me, and when Nan found out, she insisted I bring over some coffee for the team, so…”

“You workin’ at Nan’s?” The guy - Richie - asks.

“For the past year or so, yeah.” You reply, thanking Natalie as she grabs the paper bag from you.

“Let them in, Richie, c’mon.” She presses on his chest, causing him to back up with his hands in the air. “Come in! I’ve been meaning to ask if you wanted to come by for a tour.” You follow behind her, taking in the layout of the place. It’s absolutely gorgeous, and a sense of awe falls over you. She has you set the coffee traveler on the bar, letting you take the paper bag from her hands. You pull out a cup holder with two cups in it.

“One half-caff french vanilla latte for you and…a hot chocolate for Neil.” As if by magic, Neil pops through the door to the kitchen.

“For me?!”

You chuckle as he pulls you into a hug. When he pulls away, he grabs his cup with a happy sound, rushing back into the kitchen when “Fak!” is yelled.

“The fuck Fak get a coffee for?” Richie frowns, causing you to bristle. Natalie swats at him, beginning to explain as you continue to walk around the restaurant. As you pass by a wood table, your fingers tap on it, the sound echoing in your ears. It sends a shiver through you, and a small smile appears on your lips.

Natalie calls out to you, tearing your gaze back to her. People have begun to swarm around the bar, placing food on it, and your coffee is suddenly surrounded by things that smell amazing. “Did you want to eat with us, babe?” Attention turns to you, and the itchiness in your limbs reappears with a vengeance.

A tall man, wearing a beanie, grins, “Hey, those muffins were amazing, by the way.”

You sputter, “Oh. Um—“

“Tell the chef, or baker — whoever,” he laughs at himself. “They were fire.”

Warmth rises in you, “Yeah, I’ll pass it on.”

“Babe, lunch?” Natalie says again, louder this time. More of the staff have begun digging into their meals.

“No, it’s okay!” The corner of your mouth curves up in a small smile, this one less genuine than before. You begin to back up towards the door, a gnaw of guilt in your gut as Natalie frowns.

“Cousin! Food!” Richie yells out, followed by laughter from everyone else.

“I’m coming!” A familiar figure bursts through the kitchen door, “You don’t gotta yell like an asshole.”

Carmen Berzatto stops in his tracks when he sees you; the envelope in your pocket burns hotter. You look down at your shoes, but they just remind you of the milk dripping down the sidewalk.

“Carm,” Natalie introduces you, “they work at—“

“Nan’s.” Everyone chimes in, and you have to stop yourself from flinching. You look over at Carmy, eyes meeting.

There’s a moment where you feel like you’re going to get swallowed whole. The pipes are going to burst and water will fill up the room and you’re going to drown.

You walked straight into a den of hungry beasts, and you’re just a measly rabbit.

“Are you sure you don’t want to stay?” Natalie’s words are muffled in your ears, but you manage to shake your head.

“I have someone from books covering me, and they barely know how to work the espresso machine.” You force a laugh. It grates against your vocal chords. “It was nice meeting you guys, though.” With a meek wave, you turn on your feet and speed out the door. Rounding the corner, you keep walking until you’re sure they can’t see you. Veering into the alleyway behind the restaurant, you let out a shaky breath, leaning against the brick.

You press your thumb into the palm of your hand. Inhale, hold four seconds, exhale. Inhale, hold four seconds, exhale. It’s over before it starts, but your chest remains tight. A reminder, which will eventually dissipate once you're back in the shop.

The coffee bar, your shield; apron, your armor.

A door opening causes you to jump, startled. Your eyes meet blue, widening like you’ve been caught. “Sorry! I was just–” You push off the brick.

Carmen seems just as surprised as you, “No, s’fine.” He clears his throat, as the two of you settle into silence.

A fwip of a lighter. Four seconds. An exhale of smoke.

You’re unsure if you should leave, but it’s like the bottoms of your shoes are stuck to the ground. “Did you-” He starts, lifting up his hand that holds a lit cigarette.

You shake your head, “No, but - um, thanks.” Your fingers twitch, and you reach to pull the envelope from inside your jacket. Something that appears so insignificant, held out in the space between you. When he just stares, you wave it a bit, until he takes the envelope with his free hand.

“What’s this?”

“Cash, for the milk you bought.”

“You didn’t have to-“

“I did.” You bounce on your heels, “I should actually get going this time. Just wanted to give you that but…” He doesn’t respond, something you’re getting used to. You wonder where the man who rambled about reading with his sister at Nan’s went, but decide now is the best time to make your escape. As you start to walk toward the street, you turn, “The restaurant looks great, by the way. Good luck with the opening.”

“Good luck with the opening.”

Inhale. Four seconds. Exhale.

"Let it rip, Bear."

Inhale. Four seconds. Exhale.

“-a complete waste of fucking time.”

Inhale. Four seconds. Exhale.

“I’m really sorry you feel that way, Carm.”

Natalie invites you to Friends & Family.

You don’t go.

The next month flies by. Marcus, Richie, and Syd have joined your little group of regulars. Richie even brings his daughter, Eva, whenever he’s able. She’s a joy and absolutely hilarious to have around. Richie has grown on you, the rough edges of him softening after a few cortados.

One night, he had rushed into the shop, Eva in tow, all but begging you to watch her for a few hours. He was supposed to be off for the day, to spend time with his daughter, but they’re understaffed at The Bear. A few weeks in, which confused you, but questions weren’t asked. You said yes - obviously - and had Eva help you with little things around the shop, until you close. The two of you bonded over a shared love of Taylor Swift while making muffins. By the time Richie came to pick her up, Eva was tuckered out in a loveseat, patchwork blanket tucked up to her chin.

“I owe you one,” Richie had whispered, holding his daughter in his arms.

You shook your head, “You deserve to have time with her.”

He scoffed, rolling his eyes, “Yeah, bring it up with the Bear himself.”

You weren’t planning on it. The man is barely on your mind. Except for every time someone from The Bear walks in. They look drained, more and more each day. It’s a certain type of pain, to watch people – that once had so much life in them – lose the light that you felt so harshly the first time you walked into the restaurant. You hear inklings; mentions of a changing menu every night, nonnegotiables, and the like.

It worries you. It’s not your place - you’re more than aware of that. But you’ve come to care for these people. And by extension, some part of you wants to see how he’s doing. It’s an odd - biting -feeling. How strange it is, to know someone through everyone else’s eyes but your own. You have to fight back the urge to force yourself into the places you do not fit. You’re resigned to watching from afar, providing comfort behind your coffee bar. It’s what you’re good at. It might be all you're good at.

Some sick twist of fate decides to upturn it all one Friday night.

Carmy had stayed late, to nobody’s surprise. He’d been adjusting the menu, preparing it for tomorrow, when the flashes hit him. He decides to walk it off, popping another thing of nicotine gum into his mouth. He walks aimlessly, trying to push the overwhelming thoughts out of his head. The street is dark - most places being closed - but light pours onto the sidewalk, just a few feet ahead of him. Almost a reflex, he peers into the windows.

A laugh of disbelief - more a huff of air through his nose - leaves him.

You’re dancing, headphones over your ears, as you mix something in a large bowl. It’s unlike anything he’s seen - from you or otherwise. There’s a sense of freedom in your movements, so different from the few times he’d seen you before. The tightness in his chest lightens, some, at the sight of you so obviously in your element.

And you're looking right at him.

“Shit,” he mumbles. You tilt your head at him, doing a little wave. He lifts a hand in reply, and you point haphazardly at the door. Before he can respond, or walk away – anything, you’re heading around the counter. A click of the door unlocking, and you pull it open part way.

“Hey,” you say, a little loud. With a wince, you pull the headphones off to rest around your neck. Music can be heard – a muffled, upbeat song that he doesn’t recognize. “Hey,” you say again, quieter this time. Silence passes between you, and he watches your nose twitch. “…did you wanna?” You jut your thumb behind you. You’re almost unrecognizable from the first time you met, calmer, somehow.

“Yeah, sure.” The words come out, easier than he thinks, and slips through the door you hold open. You lock it behind him, turning back around to slide behind the counter.

You grab a muffin tin, beginning to fill each one with a scoop of the batter you had been mixing. You make quick work of it, pushing them into the small commercial oven, wiping your fingers on the towel that’s pulled through a loop in your jeans.

Leaning against the counter, you finally look at him, “Okay, Pick your poison.”

“What?”

“Coffee? Americano, latte, cappuccino?” It’s like you’re trying to read him, wanting to crack the spine of a book and see what’s inside.

“I don’t really do the…caffeine.”

You hum thoughtfully, tapping your fingers on the counter in some type of rhythm. “Can I make you something? Low-caffeinated, of course.” He nods. “Anything you hate?” A shake of his head.

You grab a cup and get to work. You’re singing under your breath - the song that’s playing from the headphones around your neck. With your eyes off of him, he takes a moment to actually observe the shop. Warm lighting, with dark wood bookshelves making it feel cozy without being too claustrophobic. There’s smaller tables, with different recommendations for certain genres. A sprinkling of string lights and hanging plants just adds to the homey feeling, one so different from the pristine, white kitchens he’s used to being in. So different from his own restaurant. The coffee shop portion is close to the front, dark marble countertops and a chalkboard menu - swirling letters describing monthly drink specials.

“Alright, order up,” you call out softly.

Carmy walks back up to the bar, eyeing the cup. Warmth presses into his skin as his fingers curl around it. You mention that it’s hot, to let it cool for a bit. Silence falls between the two of you - in a way he finds comforting. Your eyes flick between him and the counter you’re wiping down.

“Do you normally do this?” He asks.

“The making drinks thing, or the staying at the shop way too late thing?” You give a wry smile. “Could ask you the same.”

He scratches at his nose, “Noted.”

The minutes pass; you go about cleaning the shop, rinsing dishes and setting things up for the next day. It’s an art he’s well versed in. The muscle memory takes over for you, and Carmen becomes invisible. It feels nice, to just be in a place where nobody has anything to ask of him. He finally tries the drink. It’s good, milky, if a little sweet, but it eases the last of the sourness in his stomach away. A timer on your phone goes off, and you tug on a flowery oven mitt to pull the muffins out of the oven. Chocolate and spice invades his nostrils, soothing him even more. You grab one, hissing a bit since it’s hot, and put it on a plate, bringing it back over to him. Leaning over the bar, you reach for forks that are in a metal cup, right near Carmy. You’re close, with no care about being in his personal space. It’s only for a second, and then you’re back in your previous position.

“You can have some, as long as you promise not to be an ass about it.” You hold out a fork for him. The words cause him to cringe, but he takes the utensil from you.

He stares at the muffin, running his thumb on the underside of the fork. “How much trouble am I in?”

You shrink back a little, “W-what?”

He’s met you what - twice? Both times felt clunky, an awkwardness to the both of you. Here, it’s simpler. Under the cover of night, huh? A voice that sounds awfully like Mikey’s says in the back of his mind. His family won’t stop talking about you. Or drinking your coffee.

“The Bear,” he mutters. “They talk to you, right?”

You laugh, surprised. “Do you actually want to know?” You hold up a hand before he can reply, “Actually, no. They don’t talk to me. I see things, sure. But I’m not getting anyone in trouble with the boss.” You’re on the defensive, not even for yourself, but for his kitchen.

“They-They’re not in trouble.” One look from you and he deflates, sighing. “Okay, yeah. Just…just say something.”

“I haven’t even been to eat there.”

“You should come,” he says.

Another laugh - a scoff, more-like, “You think I could afford your place?” You bite your lip, pinching the bridge of your nose. After a moment, you continue, gently, “Do you have any fun?”

“Fun.” The word is like poison in his mouth.

“Yes, fun. I know that food service isn't the best, but it’s good to have fun, or to at least enjoy it.” You wave your hands around, “That family meal stuff you guys do? That’s so sweet, and you have a whole family unit going on in that kitchen, or whatever. If this restaurant is supposed to be the rest of your life, you should like it, at least a little bit, right?” Your torso melts into the counter, and you rest your head on your arm. “And like, maybe? Don’t change the menu every night, or something. It’s new, right? You gotta work out the kinks first before jumping in all-” you blow air out through your cheeks.

A beat of quiet, then, “The menu, huh?”

“Eleven thousand for butter?” You parrot back. At his frown, you hold up your hands, “I’m just a barista, what would I know?” You say it without heat, and yet he feels guilt crawl up his throat.

“That’s not-”

“I know, Carmen.” A sigh leaves your lips, “You asked, so I talked. Again, take everything with a grain of salt.” The words get softer, as if you’re talking more to yourself than to him, “Just remember who’s going down with you if it ends up crashing and burning.”

You stab your fork into the muffin, tearing it in half. He follows suit, lifting a bite of it to his lips. Spice floods his taste buds, and he grunts. You blink up at him, fork hanging from your mouth. He’s suddenly starving, and he eagerly gets himself another forkful. “S’good.” He mumbles through the food. Carmen watches as you process his words, pressing your lips together to hide a smile. You two finish the muffin, and there’s an ominous sense of peace that covers him like a blanket. “Thanks.”

“For yelling at you?”

Carmy lets the chuckle spill out, “If that’s what you call yelling…” He trails off, sobering, “Do you have fun?”

You hum, contemplating. “Yeah. I mean, it’s coffee, at the end of the day. It’s just nice to see people, to make their day a little better than it was. I like to try out new things, to create, to get recommendations.” You stop, seeing him staring at you, “What?”

“You’re different…from the other day, s’all.”

You’re perplexed, scrunching your nose, “Well I had a bad day, the first time. And I don’t do…well, with new people.”

“Unless you’re behind the counter.”

Your eyes widen, something flickering behind them, like he’s seen something you didn’t want him to. “Touche.” Checking your phone, you clear your throat, “Alright, we should probably get out of here if we want any semblance of sleep.” He follows your lead, as you flick off the lights, throwing you backpack over your shoulder. He waits while you lock the front door, small key dangling on a keychain. You turn, looking at him, before holding out a paper bag, “Muffin for the road?”

He grabs it, an odd feeling bubbling in his chest, “Oh - uh, thanks.”

You suddenly look sheepish, fiddling with the strap of your bag, “And if you’re out late again, feel free to stop by. If you need a break, or something.” A beat. “Oh, again, take what I said with a grain of salt, yeah? Just - maybe - try to take care of yourself a little.” You laugh nervously, and Carmy sees the truth of his earlier observation. You’re still more relaxed, but the nerves have crept in as you step outside your comfort zone. Something he knows all too well. “Anyways, have a good night - morning.” You shake your head, blowing a raspberry through your lips.

“Night. Get home safe.” He murmurs. You turn on your heel, walking down the street. He tightens his grip on the paper bag.

Take care of yourself.

At least enjoy it.

You should like it, at least a little bit, right?

Carmy doesn’t know if he truly remembers what liking cooking is like. He’s found little bits of it, in moving back home. In Marcus’ eyes as he creates something new. In Syd’s determination to make amazing food. There’s a passion there that he’s lost somewhere along the way.

He sees it in you, and it calls out to him - the tide being pushed and pulled by the moon. A curious feeling, gnawing at his stomach. A hunger for something he can’t make sense of, but he pulls the muffin out of the bag to eat on his walk home.

Carmy keeps showing up at Nan’s, usually late at night. You didn’t expect him to take you up on your offer, yet a smile graces your lips every time he does.

He was right, when he said you feel most comfortable behind the counter. You knew it, but having someone else acknowledge it felt…weird. Like you weren’t playing your part right. Yet it also felt good, to be seen.

Conversation between the two of you still feels stilted, occasionally, but you find comfort in the quiet moments. And the not-so quiet ones; with music playing at just above a reasonable level, you mouthing the words as you dance around behind the bar. The mask slowly slides off when he comes around, and it’s easier to be goofy.

You think it surprises him. He’s not quite sure what to do, when you’re cruising on the linoleum tile you call a dance floor. But he never tells you that you’re weird, or too much. You’ve maybe even seen him bite back a smile. You swear there’s dimples hiding somewhere — a fleeting thought that you let fly away before you linger on it too long.

“What do you think?” You’ve turned the music down, notepad on the counter, your favorite pen in hand. You click it a few times, sound satisfying the little itch in the back of your brain.

“Not sure if I’m a matcha fan,” Carmy murmurs. You nod, writing down his response onto the paper. It’s almost filled — you’ll have to turn to the next page soon — with different drinks you’ve had Carmy try, determined to find the right one. He’s harder to pin than others, something you’re not necessarily surprised by.

That's partially on you. You're unsure of how much to ask. How much could you poke the both metaphorical and literal Bear until it breaks? You've been enjoying your time, but you've yet to ask him how work is going. He doesn't ask you about your personal life, so why would you ask about his?

There's a curiosity there, though. To see what makes Carmen Berzatto tick. You fear the two of you might be a little too similar.

You turn to go back to cleaning your mess — the reason being a fresh tray of cookies cooling on the counter, when he says your name. “Did you get a new tattoo?”

Gaze flashing to the wrap you have on your arm, peeking out from the sleeve of your shirt, you turn bashful. “Oh,” you hum, “I did. It’s been on my list for awhile. I’m keeping it wrapped at work while it heals - god knows I spill everything all over myself.”

“Can I — What did you get?” He’s just as sheepish as you, a boyish glow about him. You’d never talked about tattoos before. His evidence is on his arms; yours are mostly concealed — easy to hide with the oversized button downs and jeans you wear.

You pull your phone from your back pocket, “Here, I’ll pull up a photo of it.” Placing your phone on the counter, Carmy grabs it, zooming in on the two-headed calf that’s found its home on your bicep. The tattoo is fresher in the photo, line work popping out against your skin. “The longest living two-headed calf lived 17 months. Her name was Gemini — a little on the nose, I think. There’s also this poem by Laura Gilpin, that just kinda struck me.” Your ramble tumbles off, a half smile pulling at your lips. “It’s sad, but the kind that makes you hurt in a nice way? If that even makes sense.” You wave a hand around, then reach to take a sip from his cup.

The matcha settles the nerves hiding under your skin, the earthy flavor dancing on your tongue. As you set the cup back on the counter, you point at his hand, “What’s that stand for?” Your own fingers twitch, fighting the urge to brush them across his own. “S.O.U?”

“Ah, sense of urgency.” He says, fiddling with your phone.

You laugh, quickly covering it with a hand, “Sorry, I — sorry, that just makes so much sense.” Before he can speak, you shake your head, “Not in a bad way, necessarily. It’s just so obvious how little work-life balance you have.”

“We’re literally at your shop in the middle of the night.” Carmen huffs exasperatedly, corner of his mouth curling up.

You hold your hands up, conceding, “Okay, I get it. Misery loves company - or whatever. God, we’re both crazy, aren’t we? We should get out more.”

He hums in response, tapping his phone twice to check the time. Anxiety swells up in your throat, and there’s something biting at your heels. The silence doesn’t feel comfortable anymore.

You said something wrong, the little voice in your head whispers. You lost the script and got too close and now he’s pulling back. How can you fix it? You have to fix it.

“What’s your favorite one?” His blue eyes glance up at you. Invisible hand squeezing your lungs, you stammer, “Tattoo. What’s the one you like most?”

His words come out softly, “A house boat. I, uh, got it before leaving Copenhagen. I stayed in one while I was over there, and put out water for an invisible cat.” Relief floods you as he talks. It’s the most he’s spoken about anything, and you see a glimmer behind his eyes.

It feels a little too close to home.

“You really loved it over there, huh?”

As if caught, he clears his throat, “It was cool…different.”

Different from Chicago, you don’t say. “I get that,” you murmur instead.

You knew what it was like, to run away. The need for escape pushing you into flight as the metaphorical dog chases the rabbit.

You wonder what Carmen’s dog was. Or is. If it’s even a dog at all.

“What about you? What’s your favorite?”

You’re pulled from your thoughts. “Oh! Um, it’s silly.” You worry at your bottom lip.

“You don’t—”

“No, hold on, it’s just,” you push yourself onto the counter with the palms of your hands. Carmen leans back as you swing your legs over the bar, letting your feet rest on the barstool next to him. You lean over, pulling up your pants leg to show the tattoo on the right side of your calf. He stares at it for a moment, confusion clear in his gaze. “See, I told you.”

“Is it a moth, or something?”

“Moth-man, Carmen. Mothman.”

“Am I supposed to know what that is?”

“He’s a cryptid. There’s literally stories of a Chicago Mothman.” He peers up at you in amusement, causing you to scrunch your face at him. “I swear on my life Carmen Berzatto, don’t be an asshole.”

“I’m not.” He laughs, and your chest loosens. You got Carmen Berzatto to laugh. “It looks good, the style is nice,” he gestures to your leg.

You smile, “Thanks.”

Nodding, he goes to sip from his cup. He makes a face, pulling it away from him, “Yeah, I don’t like this.”

He holds it out to you as you reach for it, laughter spilling from your lips, “More grass for me.” You drink, and let the cup rest on your thigh, fingers tapping on the plastic lid.

“I’m not…” Your head turns to look at him, watching as he runs a hand through his hair. “I’m not really good at this.”

“...at what?” You whisper, scared if you talk any louder you’ll scare him away.

“Talking? Not working? Who the fuck knows,” his hand leaves his hair and passes over his face.

“I’m not either, really.” You pick at your jeans, “But we’re trying, right? You come by more than I thought you would.”

“Really?”

You snort, “Dude, the first time I was surprised you even came in.” Gently, you add, “And you don’t have to be perfect at conversation to be friends with someone.” His eyes meet yours as you nudge his shoulder with your knee. “I’m weird, you’re weird, that’s okay.”

Carmen rolls his eyes good naturedly. His legs are bouncing, and you can almost see him chewing the word around before it finally leaves, “Friends?”

“Friends.” You affirm. Silence passes between you, until a growl comes from your stomach.

The man laughs, looking all the prettier for it, “You hungry?”

“Starving,” you groan.

He gets up from his seat, grabbing his denim jacket that’s hung over the chair on his left, “C’mon.”

It takes a moment, but it clicks. “Oh my god,” you gasp out, hopping off the counter. With a speed you only have during a lunch rush, you run to the back. You untie your apron, hang it up on a hook, and grab your tote bag. “Wallet, keys, phone…phone!”

“Out here!” Carmen yells. You grin, rushing back out to the front, bouncing on your heels. “You good?”

“As I’ll ever be.” You shake your keys with enthusiasm. He laughs as you both leave, and you turn to lock up. There’s excitement buzzing through you, like caffeine would if your brain weren’t wired a bit funky. A thought cuts through the haze, “Oh shit, I forgot to–”

“I got the trash.” The street lights reflect off his blue eyes.

Your heart twinges a little, “Thanks.”

“No problem.” He gestures with his head, “Now let’s go before your stomach eats itself.”

“Hey Carm?!”

The man pokes his head into the office, one hand wrapped around the door, “Yeah, what?”

Natalie raises an eyebrow, “You busy?”

Carmy scoffs, “Yeah, Sugar, I’m busy.”

It’s lunch time. Marcus has pastries, Tina’s running prep. Syd is around…avoiding him. He tries not to think about it for too long. Richie is who knows where.

Fuck, don’t be an asshole, asshole.

Deflating, he asks, “What’s up? Everything okay?”

“I’m spending my hour of alone time figuring shit out here, while Pete watches the baby.” His sister sighs, glancing down at the paperwork on the desk, “I’m managing. Anyways, that’s not what I wanted to talk about.”

He wants to ask about the baby. His niece. But Natalie barrels over the topic to say, “Were you here late the other night?” He must have made a face because Natalie sighs, exasperated. “I know you stay later than everyone else, doing god knows what, but I got a notification on my phone the other night-“

“What notification?”

She rolls her eyes, “The alarm system, dummy. I get alerts.”

“No, yeah, I get that. But I turned it off.”

It could only be from the other night, when he brought you back to the restaurant. He’s not sure why he did — he almost had a panic attack in front of you while debating what to make. It's strange, how much an environment can affect someone. Nan's feels so comfortable to him now, like nothing can happen to him when he's in those four walls. Where was the last place he felt like that?

You don’t need to impress anyone, Carmen. It’s just me, you had said.

Simple words that cut through him like a knife. You asked for comfort food, so he made you grilled cheese with tomato soup. The little dance you did every time you took a bite relit a fire inside of him that had been burnt out by years of working in kitchens.

“I know. I’m asking because the alarm was set, and then you turned it off again a few hours later.” Natalie unlocks her phone, showing him her screen that has some app pulled up with timestamps on it. “Are you sleeping? Look, I know things aren’t great right now—" Natalie cuts herself off with another sigh.

“It’s fine. Things are fine.” At her pointed look, he holds his hands up in surrender. “I’m working on it, okay? Just…are you good? Do you need anything?”

“About 48 hours of interrupted sleep would be great.” Her gripe falls off into a laugh, which he returns.

Stepping into the room further, he pulls the door closer, just a slim crack of clean white light coming through. “I’ve been a shitty brother lately.”

“No…” Natalie snorts, “Okay yeah, a bit. I love you, though.”

He mumbles the words back, tapping out a rhythm on his thigh, “Maybe I could come by, sometime. See the baby.” It’s a blessing and curse how his chest aches when he sees the way her eyes light up.

“I’d love that, Bear.”

“Yo, delivery!” Marcus yells out, pulling the attention of the Berzatto siblings.

“The fuck?” There isn't supposed to be a delivery today.

Natalie gets out of her seat, “Oh thank god.” She ushers Carmy out of the office, pushing past him into the dining room. He follows after her, confused, only to stop in his tracks.

You’re here.

You stand next to Richie, talking animatedly, albeit shy. You’re wearing clothes he doesn’t regularly see you in, the worn denim jacket catching his eye in particular. It’s clear that you aren't working, yet you hold two cups from Nan’s in your hands, a few drink carriers littering a table.

“You’re literally my savior, thank you.” Natalie pulls you into a hug, and you look at Richie with wide eyes. Carmy has to hold back a snort at your expression.

“You should expect this reaction by now, kid.” Richie takes a sip from his drink when you gape at him in exaggerated outrage.

“Shut up, Richie,” Natalie is barely paying attention, saying the words more out of habit. Grabbing a cup from a drink holder, she says, “You’re coming home with me.”

Giggles bubble from your lips, and you go to cover them with the back of your arm. There’s a pull Carmy feels, instinctual, to urge your arm away from your face and hear your genuine laughter fill the room.

Your eyes meet his, finally noticing that he’s there. The smile you give him is earnest, a gentle hello without words. He forces his feet to move, closing the distance. Carmy blatantly ignores the looks both Richie and Natalie are making. You hold out the cup in your hand - the one you weren’t drinking from - and he takes it from you.

Condensation clings to the sides, his name hastily written on the side.

⋆⁺Carmy!⁺˚⋆

There’s a heart in place of the dot at the bottom of the exclamation point, little stars doodled around his name. His stomach flips.

“Iced?” He swirls the drink in hand, mixing it up.

You shrug, “Thought I’d try something different. It’s hot outside.”

“You off?” Bringing the straw to his lips, he hums at the taste. You’re watching him eagerly, head tilted to the side as you wait for his review. “This is nice.”

Squinting at him, you huff, “Not perfect, though.” You type something into your phone — most likely to add to your notebook later. “Had to run some more syrup by the shop. Saw Natalie’s car on the street so I texted her to see if she wanted something to drink. I have errands to run after this.”

“You a regular too now, Cousin?” Richie barks, and Carmy watches as you remember where you are. Who you’re with.

A protectiveness rises up in Carmen, hating the way you recoil into yourself. “Fuck off, Richie.” He looks over at you, “Hungry?”

“Dude, we got shit to do.”

“Richie!” Natalie hisses at the older man, shoving him back toward the kitchen. She calls back to you, “Thanks for the coffee! I promise I’ll come by when I feel more like a human again.”

The customer service clicks into place behind your eyes, “Take care of yourself! Hope the baby is doing well!” Once it's just the two of you, you sigh, knocking the heels of your boots together. “I should get going.”

Carmen nods, “Can I grab you a sandwich, first?”

“Grilled cheese?” You tease, stifling a smile.

He huffs, shaking his head, “Nah, but Ebra’s got window right now. I could throw something together real quick.”

“You don’t have to do that.” He glances down; you’re pressing your thumb into the middle of your hand. It's uncanny, the semblance of himself that is mirrored in you.

“I know.” He wants to, though. “Give me five minutes?”

A moment of hesitation, then, “Okay.”

“Cool.” And he’s off.

Chaos erupts the minute he’s back in the kitchen.

“Since when did the two of you become buddy-buddy?”

“Can we please get back to work? Richie, respectfully, what are you doing back here?” Syd is working on pasta, flour covering her work service.

“I got shoved outta my space, so here I am,” Richie waves his hands around.

The overlapping voices turn into white noise, and Carmy inhales sharply, “Fak!”

“Yes, chef!” Neil appears out of nowhere. Sometimes Carmen thinks there’s a series of underground passages that makes it so easy to get ahold of him. It’s not that crazy of a notion.

“Go and say hello to them, okay? I’m gonna throw together something, give it to them, and then I’ll be right back.” The last part is meant for everyone to hear, but is pointed more toward Richie. “Seriously, just leave it, alright?”

“I’m leaving it,” Richie snarks, but nudges Fak with his elbow. “Think there’s a drink out there with your name on it anyway. Snag me another one of those apple-donut-things too, eh?”

“Fritters!” Marcus calls out from his station.

Carmy sighs deeply, pinching the bridge of his nose. He’s queasy; he’ll have to take some pepto later.

Inhale. Four seconds. Exhale.

Let it rip, Bear.

Neil barrels into you, wrapping you in a hug. He talks your ear off for the next couple minutes; you smile when you need to, laugh when you remember.

The yells from the kitchen are playing on repeat in your ears.

They’re talking about you.

The urge to flee tickles the back of your throat. You thought it would be nice to stop by and bring Natalie a coffee, but then you had felt bad about not bringing anything for everyone else, which turned into you jumping behind the bar to make ten drinks. It’s not like you were going to make Morgan, the barista on shift, make them all.

You always had a hard time not working on your days off.

“You should absolutely come!”

“Yeah, that’d be nice.” You reply, still not fully checked back into your conversation with Neil.

He smiles, “Great! I’ll send you the info!”

Before you can ask what you actually agreed to, Carmy pushes back into the room, to-go container in hand. “Hey, uh, Fak, can you go take a look at the toilet for me?” You barely notice Neil leave, focusing more on how your chest releases as Carmen walks closer to you.

He hands you the container, and you murmur a soft, “Thank you.”

“I’ll walk you out, yeah?”

The thought is nice. Glancing behind him, you see Natalie and Richie watching through the window. “It’s okay, you really don’t have to.” You take a step back just as Carmy reaches out to you. You can’t run, they’d see you. Ask questions. They probably see a caged animal.

“Hey,” he whispers your name, “it’s just me.” He’s repeating the words you said to him the night you were here. You tear your eyes away from the kitchen, looking at him. “Lemme walk you out?”

With a nod, you let him guide you out the front door. The warm summer air washes over your skin, and you take in a deep breath. You count the lines in the sidewalk as you pass them, sipping at your iced latte. “It was cool of you to come by,” Carmy says. “And your jacket’s dope.”

He’s trying to make you feel better.

“Did you just say dope?” You peek over in his direction, catching his shrug. “You’re so old.”

“Fuck off,” he laughs, and your smile widens.

You make it to your car, a little thing that has a new problem every other week. It’s been with you for years, moved with you to five different states. More of a sentimental object, than a real mode of transportation. You mostly used CTA these days if you were able, but it was nice to have a car for when you’re running errands all around the city.

“Sorry if they bothered you,” he apologizes, shoving his hands in his pockets.

“No, no, no,” you push out the words, throat tightening, arms hugging your middle. “I thought I was going to try to be a human today. May have jumped the gun on that one.” Fiddling with your keys, you continue, “It was nice to see you. Thought you might be a vampire or something, since I only ever see you at night.”

The joke causes Carmy to roll his eyes, “Is that considered a cryptid?”

You perk up at the word, “Oh, don’t get me started.”

He smiles big enough for his dimple to appear, “Oh, yeah?”

“Unless you want me to talk for hours on end. I’ll make a power-point presentation and everything.” You might already have one in the works, but he didn’t need to know that.

“You could - I mean, it wouldn’t bother me. If you did, you know?”

You blink a few times, frozen in shock. He looks shy, almost. Like the first time you met him, but there’s something between you now. A plant that will keep growing - might even bloom - if the two of you keep watering it. He keeps pecking away at your carefully crafted walls that let people see exactly how much you want them to.

Carmen Berzatto keeps seeing you. Whoever that is.

He coughs, scratching the side of his head. “I’ll see you later?”

“You know where I’ll be.”

“Yeah.”

You walk around to the driver’s side of your car, opening the door. You slide in, turning the key to let your car sputter to life. You roll the windows down, and music starts to blare from your speakers. “Kick ass tonight!” You yell the words as you pull away from the curb. You spare a glance in your rearview, watching Carmy wave before he starts walking back to his restaurant.

When you're parked outside your apartment, it hits you. You dig into your tote bag, pushing aside old receipts, chapstick tubes, and fidget toys. You cheer to yourself as you pull your notebook out, favorite pen hooked over the cover. Flipping to the back, you stare at the list of drinks you've had Carmy try.

You think you want to keep seeing him, too. Whoever that is.

You scribble at the bottom of the page, circling it twice.

Spiced Chai ~ HOT, xtra cinn

#carmy berzatto x reader #carmen berzatto x reader #the bear fanfic #neurodivergent!reader #— moth writes

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tsaritza-mika · 6 months

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Sorry not Sorry guys...

I respect all your inter-companion romance ships, and I hope they bring you joy and endless inspiration, but I have a primal need for something different. I don't need my companions dating each other.

I need them to be the most dysfunctional yet supportive found family they can be

I need Karlach to be literal 'Mama K' and grab Shadowheart and Lae'zel by the scruff and put them on coat hangers, telling them that if they can't say anything nice, then shut the fuck up for five minutes and if they can do that, then she'll come and let them down

I need Astarion and Gale to get into such a spat that all dignity and posh goes out the fucking window, and they devolve into two grown-ass men having a 13-year-old style slap fight while calling each other the harshest of obscenities, but if anyone from the outside tries calling either of them less than fabulous, they join forces and fuck them up

I need Wyll, Shadowheart, and Lae'zel to do each other's hair while discussing all the ways they've taken down various opponents and monsters, and how they would have done things better

I need Jaheira just smacking everyone upside the head whenever they say or do something stupid. Because gods dammit why is she always the only one who can see trouble from a hundred miles away, only to have her perception check fail and stumble right into a trap Halsin had set up to catch food for dinner

I need Astarion to embroider offensive cross stitch into every other companion's tents when he's left behind at camp, for no other reason than he's feeling salty that day

I need Halsin to wildshape into a bear just so he can surprise Karlach with an actual bear and Clive having a tea party with flower crowns and drawings of the horrible ways Gortash will be killed

I need Shadowheart being a petty bitch and letting anyone who was being especially stupid in a fight get a little too close to death as punishment before finally healing them. Because that's just what healers do

I need Gale pranking people with his spells. Use mage hand to yank the rug out from under Lae'zel after she insisted that he was too squishy to fight properly. Casting 'create water' over Shadowheart to ruin her makeup in retaliation for saying last night's stew was a bit bland. Use Telekinesis to fling Astarion off in some random direction because dammit Gale just woke up, and the man needs his coffee before he can properly deal with all of that first thing in the damn morning

I need Lae'zel to take pillow fights just a little too seriously

I need Wyll begging Halsin and Jaheira if they can wildshape into a bear and a shark just so he can ride both of them through the Chionthar while recklessly casting Fireball and Lightning Bolt at the sky, because just think of how cool he would look doing it

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mochinek0 · 1 month

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Looking Back (Part 1)

Adrien couldn't help but look at Marinette across the room. The only thing that bothered him so much was that she was there with her husband, Damian Wayne. He saw the smile he missed; saw her laughing with friends. He could see how close she was to him, every time she turned and looked at him to continue the story.

"How did you meet your husband, Marinette?"

"Yeah he doesn't look familiar."

"Did he go to school with us; I feel like I would have remembered him."

"Uncle Jagged took me on tour when I graduated, half way through the year, and I met Damian during one of the stops." Marinette answered.

Adrien looked away and noticed his friends were uncomfortable. Some people, those closest to Mari, stopped listening to Lila. Kitty Section had launched to stardom with their amazing clothes, lyrics and Jagged Stones backing. The others…..'Did I do the right thing?' was running across their minds.

"Hey, let's get out of here for a bit." Kim spoke, "I need a drink.

"Alya nodded, "It's….unnerving, right now."

"I don't know." Nino declared.

"It'll only be for an hour." Kim sighed, "There's a place to drink a block away. We can walk over and back."

"We can take my car." Adrien smiled, "I'll probably only have one drink."

Outnumbered, Nino groaned, "I'll drive us back."

After a quick round up, they left to a near by bar.

"This isn't how I expected this reunion to go!" Alya whined, "I thought Marinette would be miserable and we would be telling her, 'You should have be nicer to Lila'. Why is her life; her friends' life, better than ours?"

"Odine broke up with me two months after she found out that I had pulled a prank on Marinette when we were twelve." Kim sighed, "She never got over it. She said I was heartless and a monster to do that to a girl. She said she would be terrified of having daughters with me. I wasn't even thinking that far ahead."

"Looks like you are now." Nathaniel stated.

"I- She was the first girl to confess to me and our dates weren't horrible!" Kim retorted.

Alix chuckled, "Thought that was Marinette."

The former swimmer growled, "Shut up! It's not my fault that girls only want some slim-fit guy!"

"Mylene and Ivan are married." Nino pointed out, "Neither of them are 'slim-fit'."

"That's right!" Alya shouted, "You're blaming us, but guys only want model types. Where's the love for curvy girls, huh? Show me thicc love, dammit!"

"I don't know." Kim spoke, "Where did it go, Nino?"

The DJ rolled his eyes, "It was a mutual break up. We had conflicting schedules and barely had time to talk to each other. It was a ten minute talk at most and then class or sleep. Even now, most dates I've had have been coffee because I'm tired after a gig."

Nino realized his best friend had been quiet so far. He was sure he would have defended himself when his long-time ex brought up models. Out of the corner of his eye, he spotted five shot glasses.

"Hey, Dude, are you okay?" Nino questioned, "You ususally don't drink this much."

Adrien turned to Nino and pouted, "I should have married Marinette."

The model didn't expect the table to erupt in laughter.

"Nice one, Dude." Nino smiled, "I understand you want to be included."

"I'm serious!" Adrien whined.

"Dude, if you really feel that way, you only have yourself to blame." his best friend stated.

"Huh?" Adrien replied, confused.

"You were the blindest idiot, as a teen." Alix cackled.

Alya rolled her eyes, "Mari was head over heels for you. It's why she bullied Lila, duh."

Adrien tried to shake off the alcohol, "Bullied Lila?"

Alya took another sip, "You know because you and Lila were dating."

"I would never date that Bitch!" the model shouted.

Everyone froze and looked at him.

"What?" Kim questioned.

"I never dated Lila." the Agreste heir snarled, "I would have never-She's not my type. Fuck, I would never date a model, period. I have always hated modeling; both Chloe and Mari knew that. I did it to get my father's attention."

Everyone looked at each other as the web of lies began to untangle in front of them. After all these years, the thread had begun to snap.

"You all thought Mari was bullying Lila because she liked me?" Adrien continued to rant, "You forget she helped me get with Kagami. Kagami even told me she tried to get us back together. Hell, 'Gami had a crush on her, but ended up with Felix instead. She still says that if Mari suddenly wanted to get together, she'd drop Felix."

No one knew what to say. Everything they thought they knew, that kept them as friends was slowly coming undone. They had been 'Team Lila' for the longest time and now….what were they? Adrien never dated Lila. Adrien said he would never date her. He believed Marinette wouldn’t bully Lila simply because Lila had feelings for him because Marinette helped him get a girlfriend. If that was all true, why did Lila say they dated? Why did she say Marinette bullied her? As if a distant echo, they recalled Marinette calling their friend a liar. Had Lila really lied to them all this time?

Kim let out a loud belch, "Like we believe that." his speech slurring.

"You're saying I'm lying?" Adrien questioned.

Mr. 'Just A Friend' had feelings for her?" Kim answered, "Yeah, right."

"Mr. what?" Adrien asked.

"It's your catchphrase." the former swimmer laughed, "I'm sure you all remember. 'Who, Marinette? No! She's just a friend. She's a good friend. She's a great friend. You'll like her once you get to know her and be friends with her. She's an amazing friend'."

Alix yawned, getting bored of the dying party, "You had 'FRIENDZONE' tattooed on your forehead."

Alya relaxed. She had been so close to believeing that she had betrayed the wrong person, but Adrien having feelings for Marinette was laughable at this point.

"Marinette obviously got tired of hearing how much of a 'friend' she was to you." Alya declared, "The shit I had to listen to when we were friends! How 'dreamy' you looked. The names of you imaginary kids! You two gettign a hamster."

"She found someone better." Alix shrugged, "He's taller and looks strong as hell. The only things you share in common are green eyes and wealthy families."

"Gold digging, Bitch." Alya snarled.

"I thought that, too." Alix admitted, "From what Juleka tells me, Marinette makes more than Adrien alone on her fashion commissions. That's without using her muscle hubby or his family name. Rose said that not even Luka compares. Kitty Section went with them to the Caribbean and …muscles and scars. Said Mari couldn't keep her eyes of him and they barely saw her after that."

"Demon God." muttered Nathaniel.

"Demon God?" questioned Nino.

"His brothers call him 'Demon Spawn', but he's chiseled like the sexy Lucifer marble statues that the church said no to." Nathaniel groaned, "I should have taken my chance, too."

Nino glanced at Adrien and saw him tearing up.

'Shit.'

"Okay, I think we get the idea." the DJ stated, trying to change the subject.

"Alya's right. We tried to get them together so many times, but he always thought they were 'friendly outings' even though eveyone had a date." Kim continued.

Nathaniel took another shot, "Imagine getting kissed by the most popular girl at school and thinking she was 'just being nice'."

"Lila?" Alya replied, "I thought-"

"Lila was popular in class, only." Nathaniel answered, "Marinette was popular all over school. The true 'Queen' of the school."

Adrien quickly stood up, scraping his chair against the floor, and rushed out. Nino quickly rushed out after him.

"What's his problem?" Kim asked.

Alya's eyes trailed after Nino's back before she took another drink and turned back to the group.

Nino quickly spotted Adrien's car. He slowly approached it and found him sobbing in the passenger's seat.

'At least he didn't think he could drive.'

Nino walked around and sat in the driver's side. He simply patted his friend's back.

"Did-Is what Kim said true?" Adrien asked.

Nino unintentionally paused his hand's movements, trying to decide what would be best.

"Nino!" Adrien shouted, "You're my best friend! Is what-"

"Yes." he answered.

He could feel the weight of Adrien's gaze on him.

"We did try setting you up with Marinette." Nino spoke, calmly, "Everyone in the school could see she liked you. I don’t know when she stopped; we truly believed that she was mean to Lila because Lila was with you."

"Not in a million years." Adrien replied.

"You sure?" Nino asked, looking at his friend.

"Not even if it brought my mother back." Adrien growled, "I can't stand her."

Nino started the car as Adrien sunk into his seat. They drove in silence, but he faintly heard the model's sniffles. He knew Adrien might not possibly remember the night and he didn't want to say anything that was too damaging. It was a conversation for another time…if there ever was.

Adrien thanked Nino as they got out of the car and he took the keys form him, "She looked happy tonight, didn't she? Her smiles were always the brightest."

Nino watched as tears fell down his friend's cheeks. Adrien quickly turned and went inside. Nino sighed and took out his phone.

"Yo, Max. I need a ride." he spoke, "Got a minute to spare?"

#mochinek0 #marinette x damian #damian x marinette #marinette dupain cheng #damian wayne #mlb x dc #class gossip #class regret #reunion #dc x mlb #adrien agreste #adrienette #class salt #alya sad #part 1

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high-ashell-hargrove · 3 months

Text

Djinn,Dean and some damn pie

Summary: he wakes up in a bed that’s not his, in a house that is most definitely not either, the one familiar thing is you, or so he thought. The reason he knew it wasn’t you? His y/n would never turn down a piece of pie.

Pairing: Dean x Reader

_____________

The sun shines through the sheer curtains, the smell of fresh linen fills Dean's senses. With a stretch he peaks open his eyes, adjusting to the room around him. Frantically he shoots up,

This wasn’t the motel bed he fell asleep in. Feeling underneath his pillow his gun had also been missing. Pulling back the covers Dean checks the room. No signs of any of his stuff other than a wardrobe that looked similar to his, followed by some women’s clothing. Striding out of the room dean is hit with the smell of freshly brewed Coffee, he follows it down the hall.

Peering around the corner he's met with the sight of you, his best friend, a henley covering your frame.

“Good morning” Dean said, breaking the silence in the air, cautiously approaching you. Looking up y/n smiles brightly, ambling over to Dean. wrapping her arms around his neck y/n gives him a slight peck. Pulling back Dean gives her a bewildered look.

y/n head tilts to the side “you ok?” Dean nods. “Feels like I'm dreaming.”

Her hair smelt the same, so did her perfume, her eyes twinkled like they always have, how could he be?

________________

“Dammit Sam how could he be so stupid” y/n huffs, shoving her gun into her waistband.

“Goes after a damn Djinn by himself” she mumbles under her breath.

“We will find him y/n” Sam says, following behind her, slamming the motel door behind them.

______________

Days passed, Dean couldn't shake the feeling of unease in his gut. Things werent adding up as he remembered but he continued to brush it off. Jess and Sam were married, y/n and him were engaged, and he worked at a garage fixing cars.

Unlocking the front door he's met with a dim house, y/n lay on the couch, curled up in a blanket. Crouching he sweeps the hair out of her face.

“Wake up sweetheart” Dean whispers, kissing her forehead.

y/n stirs, groaning. “Welcome home” she sits up groggily. “Lets head to bed” standing up she wraps her hand around his, pulling him down the hall.

_________________________

“Sam its been days we are running out of time” y/n runs her hands across her face, days they spent searching and stressing. And still no trace of Dean.

“What about this church, its the only abandoned place we havent searched yet '' Sam spins the laptop toward her. Squinting she nodded.

“Worth a damn shot”

________________

Dean walked into the kitchen, sitting down at the marble island. A fresh pie sat in the middle

“Looks good,” Dean smiled, looking up at her. “Share a slice with me?”

y/n grimaced

“Oh c'mon you love pie!” Dean scoffed. y/n shakes her head.

“Honey, it's too many calories.” y/n laughed, grabbing him a plate.

His stomach dropped. He knew something wasn't right, and the piece of the puzzle was some damn pie?

He stood up, shoving her against the cabinets roughly, a loud screech echoing off of the walls

“Dean baby-” he cut her off

“Dont, you're not y/n, not mine anyway.” his eyes scanned hers. Eyebrows pinched together. Memories of hunting the Djinn flooding back into his mind.

“Dean stay here with me, please” a pleading wine left y/n’s throat “you are so happy here! Please! Stay happy with me”

Dean shakes his head angrily, sneering, his face getting closer to hers.

“I want my real brother back, i want my real y/n back”

________________________

y/n gasps, seeing Dean's limp body. Rushing to him she cuts him free from his ties. Cupping his face she shakes him roughly.

“Dean! Cmon wake up” he was pale. Panic flooded her, her throat tightening and tears threatening to spill down her cheeks. Roughly she slaps him across the face, a weak groan leaves his throat.

“Sammy! Come help me get him in the car!”

Hours pass, y/n sit in a chair next to the bed, hands folded together, waiting for him to wake.

Dean's eyes slowly open, the blur adjusting to y/n's frame. His eyes continue to scan the motel room, dingy walls, broken ceiling fan. His eyes dart back over to y/n. A chuckle erupted from his chest.

“What the hell is so funny Winchester?” y/n said angrily.

“You didn't want any damn pie”

“Excuse me?”

Dean sat up slowly, still feeling weak.

“The other you, Dream you? Didn't wanna eat any Damn pie, that's how i knew.” he chuckled again. y/n shook her head and rolled her eyes

“Dean Winchester I could skin you” grabbing him by his green henley she pulls him in for a kiss.

“Did other me do that?”

He smirked “not as good”

#plus size!reader #fanfiction #imagines #fluff #dean winchester imagine #dean winchester #supernatural imagine #dean winchester x reader #dean winchester fluff #supernatural fluff

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aurorawhisperz · 1 year

Text

that’s what you get (e.l.)

contains: swearing, suggestive content, fluff, richie exists..

neighbor!ethan landry x fem!reader

a/n: THANK YOU GUYS FOR THE TROPES NOW IM GONNA BE POSTING MORE BY JULY 🦅🦅🦅 ethan is a bit of a meanie in this but he’s still little old him (maybe just gf ethan persona)

some tropes i used are: enemies to lovers, girl next door, forced proximity and best friend’s brother 🙏 (yk allat shit LOL) THERE WILL BE A PART 2!!

•

You knew for a fact that Quinn Bailey was your best friend—what made it even better is that you two could communicate through your windows, but one thing you also knew is that you didn’t like her brother, Ethan, he was your age, Quinn was older than you both. He would sometimes cut into your ‘girl talk’ since his room was right beside hers.

“Dammit!” You said as you banged on the door roughly. Your parents weren’t going to be home until tomorrow morning for something important, and you had left your keys inside the house. To make it even worse, it was raining.

A familiar voice startles you and has you snap out of all that stress. “(Name)?” says Quinn, covering herself with a blanket. I think it’s pretty obvious what she was doing just now.

“Quinn!” You called from below, your eyes widen at the sight of her covered body by the window. “I’ll..get back to you! Damn..” You hear her say something to an impatient guy, something about helping a friend—obviously that friend was you.

A few minutes later, she runs out in pink slip-ons and a purple nightgown with an umbrella. “Need help? Holy shit, you are soaking.” Quinn’s eyes widen at the sight of your outfit ruined. “And cold.” You add, then slamming your fist on the wall, “I left my keys inside.”

“Boo, it’s not that hard to knock on our door.” She chuckles, then you roll your eyes, “And deal with your brothers while you get to bang someone tonight? Yeah, right.” Her eyes then dart and she forces a smile out. “Ethan’s not that bad.”

You frown, “Yes, he is.”

“Baby, you’ll have to deal with it. I can’t stand Richie anymore.” Quinn complains, then she tugs on the sleeve of your wet cardigan to let you inside her ‘humble home.’

Grateful to be out of the pouring rain, the familiar smell of your best friend’s home fills your nostrils.

You both plop down on the plush couch, and she hands you a towel for your wet hair. Quinn then shoots you a playful smile, “Aside from our ‘interventions’, what did baby bro do this time to get on your nerves?” She asks.

“That’s about it, he wants to be the center of attention even when he’s not wanted.” You let out a sigh.

Quinn’s lips curl into a smirk, and she gently places a hand on your shoulder. “He's just trying to be a part of our bond, in his own misguided way. Ethan’s.. different, he’s fucking awkward and stuff but not around us because he’s more comfortable.”

You sigh, feeling a mix of frustration and understanding. “I guess I can try to tolerate him a bit more. For you. But he better stay out of our serious conversations.”

Quinn laughs and pulls you into a hug, the warmth of her embrace enveloping you. “That's the spirit! And don't worry, I'll make sure that jackass knows when to give us our space. Besties have their ways, you know.”

“What ways?” says Richie, holding an ‘I LOVE STAB’ coffee mug. You also know for a fact that you hated him more than Ethan—being the movie geek he is, not that it’s bad, it’s how he takes it too far and even gets touchy with others. “Ways to die.” You mutter, staring deep into his damned soul.

He nods nervously and heads back into his room. “Stay in there!” yells Quinn.

Once the silence has dissolved into thin air, she blurts out, “How about that tension?” Your eyes widen, eyebrows pinched together and lips parted in protest. “Sexual tension?” You repeat, your face going pale.

She nods cheekily, “SEXUAL?” You shriek. Quinn laughs at your reaction.

You then hear Quinn’s name from upstairs, “Ooh, priorities.” She avoids your gaze and then drags you back upstairs, “Q, don’t make me a third wheel tonight.” You roll your eyes as her grip on your arm tightens.

•

“What the hell?” is the first thing that comes out of Ethan’s mouth when Quinn pushes you into her room. “Quinn, and you. Get out!” He narrows his eyes. “E, I’ve got a guy waiting for me to go back.”

“Then tell him to fucking leave?” He shakes his head. “You’re a degenerate, you know that?” Ethan shoots back.

“Well, I’m not a virgin, so you don’t get a say in that.” Quinn lets out a corny smile and shakes her head, you can see Ethan gritting his teeth. “Do you want her to deal with Richie then?” She tilts her head slyly.

He sighs, “No.” she raises her hands and continues “That’s what I thought, love you both!” Quinn exits just as Ethan is about to flip her off.

You sit down on Ethan’s beanbag and all he does is stare.

He scoffs, “What brings you into my lair?” He crunches on a cheeto. You obviously refused to let his taunts get under your skin, “Spare me.” You retorted.

Ethan smirks, enjoying your discomfort, “Mighty (name) finds herself in a bit of a predicament, huh?”

“Unlike you, Eth, I don't have the luxury of living in a perfect little bubble where everything goes my way. So excuse me if I need a moment to think.” You tightly clench your fists.

“Can’t we just tolerate each other’s existence only for a little bit?” You complain, Ethan’s mouth turns into an “O” shape and he sarcastically remarks “Who can go the longest without being an asshole? You or me?”

“Me.” You pridefully chuckle. “This starts now.” He declares.

You have never heard silence quite this loud. The only thing you and Ethan have been doing for the past few minutes is stare at each other. Eye language perhaps?

His lips part at the sight of you.

While you did hate Ethan, there was always something telling you otherwise—you’d find yourself looking through his window, and if you timed it right, even got to see his muscles whenever he changes. (And it was hard to keep a straight face when you’d see it during your conversations with Quinn.)

What snaps you out of that thought is Ethan’s scoff, he then turns his head—then his gaze back to you. “It’s so dumb.”

“What do you mean?” Your eyebrows pinch together in the middle, and your lips purse. “You know how Quinn gets to show off her man all she wants and how she’s so freaked out over everything they do—even when she’s..done those things so many times.” says Ethan.

Ethan then shrugs, “It’s just stupid.”, your eyebrows raise in agreement as you bit the inside of your cheek.

While you did hate Ethan, part of you..or most of you was telling you that he wanted you to give in—but give in to what? Being the muscular little thing he is, it’s hard to maintain your sanity when you see him without a shirt through his window. Practically drooling, but of course, you couldn’t let Quinn know.

Mainly because she’s so ‘Quinn’, she would probably tell him.

Behind the thin walls of her bedroom were sounds quite pathetic, you two burst into laughter up to the point where you both were crying.

You put a hand over your heart and leaned back on the beanbag.

“Are they THAT loud?” You ask, “Very.” He chuckles in response, this might be the only conversation you two could call a genuine conversation.

“This is really pervy of us to do, but we don’t have a choice, not like we can tune them out.” says Ethan as he grabs a Marvel plush and sits next to the beanbag you were on.

“It’s not like me and Quinn could tune you out.” You joke. A genuine smile tugs on the corners of Ethan’s plush lips. “Gee, you’re really being nice right now.” Your words laced with sarcasm tumbled out.

You had spent your entire life making sure Ethan would never fall for you, nor would you fall for him—and you failed.

It was like there’s nobody in the world right now but you two.

“Well, it’s part of the game right?” Ethan said, his eyes, half-lidded, looking up at you. “It doesn’t seem that much of a game anymore.” You kept your eyes on him, and he kept his on you as well.

Silence. Just silence. That was how much reality hurt.

This is also the closest you have ever been. There is only inches between you both, and you are close to giving in. Breaking the silence, “Maybe I should leave now, I’m not cold-” Ethan then stops your lips with a kiss. He pulls away and you are left with the sight of him hovering over you on the beanbag.

You kissed him back even longer, yes, you were kissing your enemy. It felt so wrong—but at the same time, it felt so right.

The smell of lemon zest surrounded you, along with his intoxicating aura. The thought then entered your head.

Hey, what if I just pulled away and ran like crazy?

Just as you’re about to pull away, he insists against your mouth, “Stay.” Ethan said, you could tell from how hot his lips were—he felt the same way. Out of control.

Ethan then turns you both over so that he was on the beanbag and you were straddling him.

His hands were sneaky enough to slide under the back of your shirt. “Just calming your nerves.” says Ethan as he rubs soothing circles on your lower back.

It was his shuddering breath that made you think this was a dream. Being woken up was the last thing you needed. Ethan whines into the kiss, and you smiled against him.

You then pull away with a small gasp escaping your lips when his hips jolt up into yours, your fist slammed against the wall as he did it twice.

“Shit, shit, I’m sorry. It’s a reflex.” Ethan stammers as he sits up, moving you as well. “No, no! I just got startled. It’s fine, really.”

He sucks in a breath through his teeth then his hands grip the sides of your face. Ethan is kissing you once again.

Just kissing, this is the closest you’ll ever get. Maybe you’ll forget about it the next day, or maybe one day—you’ll look back and regret it. The kiss being hot and slow, and his arms wrapping around you.

Ethan slides his arms around you and pulls you closer.

The moment of bliss is then interrupted when Quinn knocks on the door. “Hello? Just making sure nobody’s dead yet.”

“Shit.” You whisper, and you get off Ethan and push him back to his bed.

She enters the room and looks around. “I’m surprised this hasn’t turned into a warzone yet.”

“Uh-huh.” Ethan nods, but he’s all shades of pink. “Why are you so red right now?” Quinn tilts her head and squints. His hands move to his face and he tries to think of an excuse.

“It’s hot in here, isn’t it?”

“Have some decency, we heard you in there.” You grumbled, she then chuckles and leans against the doorframe. “Sorry, if I..” Quinn twirls her red hair with her finger. “Cockblocked you.” She lets out an awful grin then locks the door—closing it.

Now you were definitely in some situation, I guess she’s getting suspicious now. There was nothing in the room aside from the kissing sounds..what else? Ethan’s whining, and your fist hitting the wall..

Wait a minute.

You were completely fucked. Do you and Ethan just forget about it now? Or do you have to keep up the strategy? You weren’t the type to forget such a heated kiss, but what about him?

#ethan landry scream #ethan landry #ethan landry fanfiction #ethan landry fluff #ethan landry x reader #scream fanfiction #scream fluff #ethan landry angst #ethan landry smut #scream angst #scream

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loveshotzz · 11 months

Text

My name’s Elvira, but you can call me tonight

steve harrington x eddie’sbestfriend!reader

Hell N Back

summary: A flash flood warning, a week of cancelled plans, and the night Steve Harrington shows up at your front door.

wc: 5.2k

warnings: 18+ mentions of weed smoking (r), thigh riding, fingering, oral (fem receiving) and you know I can’t get enough of making Steve cum in his pants.

A/N: thank you all for your patience with this one, and thank you for reading 🥹♥️

🎃<- chapter two | mini series masterlist

It felt like it had been raining for days, the downpour never ceasing until there were flash flood warnings lighting up the bottom of your TV screen by the end of the week. You hadn’t seen Steve since Tina’s party, every plan that your group had getting canceled by the clouds that never seemed to want to leave Hawkins.

Heavy droplets hit your window in the living room in sporadic patterns, the wind outside making the howling noise you’ve only ever heard on your favorite horror movies. The flicker of your candles dance along your walls, mixing with the warm glow of your string lights just like that night, and for once you don’t try and stop the thoughts of him that threaten to consume the rest of your evening.

Laying bundled up on the couch in a pair of sleep shorts and an oversized sweater, the black and white sci fi movie The Empire of The Ants plays on your TV while Elvira’s bubble gum sweet voice cracks lewd jokes over the B rated film. The Halloween Macabre special was your only saving grace this week, that and the thick fuzzy Jack O Lantern socks on your feet gifted from Robin.

You giggle to yourself at a joke about her boobs in particular, the half smoked joint on your coffee table makes it easy to wonder if Steve would have thought it was funny too.

Jesus Christ.

You huff a little, pulling the throw blanket closer to your chin, eyebrows furrowing in a pout.

How did this happen? When did this happen?

Before you have time to think too hard about it, lights flash behind your blinds dancing across the exposed glass in the opening from outside. You keep your eyes trained on it until they cut and the darkness from before takes over, shrugging it off to it being your neighbor coming home from work. Shuffling your feet under your blanket, you burrow yourself further into the cushions finally getting the level of comfort you’d been searching for since the movie started, but it only lasts a couple of minutes. Three melodic knocks rattle your front door, scaring you out of your fleece cocoon and onto your carpeted floor.

“God dammit!” You grunt, pushing yourself up and tossing the blanket on the couch, “Fucking Munson.”

It’s only when you get halfway to your door that you realize it’s definitely not Eddie or he would have let himself in with the spare. Your footsteps stop as you remember that this is actually how every single horror movie starts out. It’s almost as if whoever it is can read your mind, and a familiar voice calls out from the other side.

“It’s Steve!”

Relief floods your system, and your shoulders slump as your heart rate starts to calm, but then the realization that Steve Harrington was on the other side of your door unannounced just kicks it back up again. Especially when you look down at what you’re wearing.

“If this is weird or you have someone over, I can leave!“ He talks loud enough to be heard over the rain, but it still threatens to drown him out.

“No!” You don’t mean to yell when you answer, clearing your throat, you try to play it off when you continue, “I’m coming, sorry I’m coming!”

Taking a deep breath you pad the few extra steps to your door, straightening your shoulders before your fingers wrap around the handle. There’s a silent count to three before you actually open it.

The sound of the rain you’d only heard muffled from behind your window grows tenfold, making you wince at the difference at just how hard it’s still coming down. A chilled mist hits your exposed skin from the wind, sending a shiver down your spine and you’re met face to face with a very wet version of the boy you were just thinking about.

“Jesus, Steve! Why didn’t you call?!” You scold, stepping aside to let him into the warmth of your apartment. Shutting the door quickly behind him, a flash of lighting illuminates half the night sky followed by a low roll of thunder.

“I know, I know.” He gives, running a hand through his soaked hair pushing it out of his face. His smile almost looks victorious when he shows you the whites of his teeth. “My power went out.”

His Hawkins Community College sweater clings to parts of his stomach and chest, the worn heather gray cotton turning dark. The water makes the blue denim on his legs even tighter than normal, sticking to him like a second skin and you have to actively stop your eyes from lingering as he drips a mess onto your floor. His white sneakers squish, completely drenched down to his socks and he still somehow looks handsome as ever.

“Robin lives like two blocks away from you.” You arch your brow, flipping your lock to stop anymore horror movie cliches from happening, only for the string lights in your living room to flicker as you do. The energy in the air is laughing at you.

Steve’s cheeks flush a deeper shade of the rosy pink they were from the cold of the storm, and that’s when you notice the shopping bag.

“Did your power actually go out?” The corners of your mouth twitch, crossing your arms across your chest. The bottom hem of your sweater lifts higher up your thighs and Steve licks his lips, following it.

“I don’t know why I said that,” he huffs out an awkward laugh, scratching the back of his neck. “What a weird lie, right?”

“Kinda,” you giggle, eyes catching the colorful packaging of the popcorn and Red Vines inside the plastic in his hand, the knot in your stomach tightens knowing that he’s been thinking about you too.

“I just felt like if I had called I wouldn’t-“ he coughs looking anywhere but you, “I heard from Eddie that Elvira’s Halloween special was on tonight and I just thought, you know we had kinda talked about it before-“

“Do you want to get out of those clothes?” You cut him off, making his eyes snap up wide. “I mean, wow, that came out a little forward.”

It’s your turn to laugh awkwardly.

“Eddie just leaves stuff here all the time, I clean it obviously or it’d make my place reek.” You try to explain in an attempt to break the tension and it works when you get that lopsided grin that makes you go shy. “I’m sure I’ve got some sweats and a shirt that would fit, I can throw your wet clothes in the dryer if you want?”

Steve’s shoulders relax, nodding, pushing back that loose strand that drips falling over his forehead.

“Yeah, I’d like that.”

——

When Steve hands you his wet clothes through the crack of your bathroom door, it makes your brain stop working for a second. You catch a glimpse of his bare back in the mirror, littered with more moles and freckles that would make the sky hidden behind the clouds jealous. With thicker thighs than your best friend, it makes the cotton of the sweatpants that hang low on his hips stretch tight over his butt. The dark patch of chest hair that’s always just been teased comes into full view right in front of you and your throat goes dry. Why did it look so soft?

Steve catches you staring, the tips of his ears dusting red before mumbling a mess of sorry’s shutting the door again. You shout an awkward apology of your own, soft thumps on your carpet as you hurry the wet clothes to your dryer. Silently scolding yourself to get it together, feeling the heat rise from your neck to your face, even warming your ears. God, he looked even better without a shirt on.

“You’re good, everything’s chill, you’re totally fine it’s just Steve.” You whisper under your breath, tossing the clothes into the machine with a wet plop. The last part has you rolling your own eyes at yourself, throwing in a couple of dryer sheets for good measure.

Your nerves make you want to keep busy, so you start rummaging through the bag he brought in the kitchen. Butterflies taking flight in your rib cage when it’s everything the two of you had picked out that first night. You bite your lip to hide your smile, opening the popcorn to put in the microwave when you hear the soft click of the bathroom door opening. His feet sound heavier than yours on the carpet,and you make sure to have your back towards him when he finally enters the kitchen. Plugging in the minutes, the loud beeps of your microwave only add to the tension that hangs thick, almost suffocating you in the air.

“I mean, everything fits… I guess.”

He breaks the silence right as the low hum kicks on and you watch the small bag start to spin on the glass plate. You collect yourself quietly before turning around, not expecting the sight you’re met with to send you into a fit of giggles. Slapping a hand over your mouth in an attempt to stop it, you take in the faded black Iron Maiden shirt you gave him.

You realize now with him standing in front of you that it's a size too small for the King of Hawkins, probably one of Eddie’s old one’s from high school. The worn fabric fits tight over his chest, making ‘Eddie’s’ face stretch distorted over his pecs. The sleeves look ready to burst at the seams, and the bottom hem refuses to meet the top of his sweats. Revealing a little sliver of his tan skin and the beginnings of the thick happy trail you’ve shamelessly thought so much about.

It’s the cutest you think he’s ever looked, besides that one summer he worked at Scoops Ahoy.

“Hey! That doesn’t make me feel very good.” Steve chuckles, his cheeks becoming a permanent shade of red for the night.

“No, no, you look cute!” You try to get out, but the snort he gives you in response makes you giggle harder. “I promise, I wouldn’t lie to you!”

The way your lips twitch when you say it makes his eyes roll, but even with a shake of his head, the smile on his face gives him away. He can’t be mad, not when you just called him cute.

“Yeah, yeah, whatever you say.” He runs a hand through his hair that’s already started to dry, curling in wisps behind his ears. The gold that kisses the tips shimmers in the low light of the kitchen.

The unexpected first loud pops of the kernels stop any other words that sit on the tips of your tongues, making you both jump at the sudden outburst.

“Why don’t you go warm up on the couch, since you decided to come over for a date during the storm of the century and I’ll bring the snacks out.” You try to keep your tone as even as possible, refusing to meet his eyes after saying the ‘D’ word, busying yourself again with grabbing cups for some hot tea.

You wonder if he can hear your heartbeat from across the room in the moment of silence that follows. Not even realizing you're holding your breath until you feel the heat of his palm against the small of your back and it exhales through nervous lips.

He smells like the rain that won’t stop pouring outside with notes of cedar from his cologne. There’s an undertone of the lilac from your dryer sheets. He’s spring in the middle of autumn, leaning in close to your ear.

“Only if I get to be the big spoon again.”

The way your cheeks push up, and your lashes flutter against the tops of them when he makes his intentions clear, he thinks he’d drive through a hurricane to get to you.

——-

When you get to the living room he’s lying where you were earlier, doing his best to get comfortable, but the size of the shirt has him pulling at the sleeves to get them to loosen up. Muttering under his breath, your giggle is what catches his attention. Big chestnut eyes look up at you, and all the annoyance on his face drains with a smile he can’t contain.

“What? It’s literally cutting off my circulation.” He laughs sitting up, his hair now completely out of control. “You sure this is Munson’s?”

“Yes, but I’m starting to think from, like, junior year.” You try to hide your grin when his jaw drops in disbelief.

“That explains a lot,” he scoffs

You watch him lean forward to grab a handful of the popcorn, the fabric restricting him again, and both of you hear the faint sounds of a tear. His eyes lock with your in a dead stare making you throw your head back in a full bellied laugh. Rib cage tightening just like your chest with the realization of how much you actually like him.

“I’m glad you’re having a good laugh, you’re lucky you’re so pretty, I’ll tell you that much.” He grumbles reaching forward for the popcorn again only this time is successful, probably due to the rip, and something shifts in the air when his words sink in.

“Sometimes it gets me out of things.” You grin, a little shy just for him.

“I’m not surprised in the slightest.” He licks the butter off of his fingers, pink lips wrapping around the tips as he leans back into the cushions. He watches how it makes your thighs press, the corners of his mouth lifting in a smirk.

“Are you gonna keep hogging the couch or are you makin’ room for me?” You fake annoyance gesturing toward the way he's manspread on the cushions, doing your best to try and cover up how flustered you feel, but the way his eyes seem to light up tells you it isn’t working.

Shifting himself back to lay on his side, he lifts the covers with raised eyebrows and the kind of shit eating grin you want to kiss off of him.

“I was just waiting to see if you were gonna stand the whole movie or not.”

You make him snort when you roll your eyes, and he tries to play it cool when the smell of your apple blossom body wash fills his senses as you take the small space he’s made for you next to him. Swallowing hard, you leave a little bit of room between you, the nerves in your stomach starting to feel like an Olympic gymnast is competing for the gold. The heat of his breath fans against the back of your neck, his own insecurity making it come out a little shaky having you this close again. The tension breaks when he goes to wrap his arm around you and another sound of a rip hits both your ears.

“Jesus Christ,” he grumbles over your fit of giggles, his face turning a deeper shade of red that you can’t see. “I swear I’m not trying to take my clothes off but this is not working honey.”

His laugh puffs across your skin, making goosebumps rise when he shifts to sit up a little bit. Turning your head, you meet his anxious eyes over your shoulder.

“It wouldn’t be the first time I’ve seen you shirtless Harrington,” you tease, your own face heating up in memory of the view you got minutes ago in your bathroom.

“It’s not, like, going to make you uncomfortable or anything right? I swear this isn’t like a move - not that I don’t want to make a move -“ The boy looks panicked, his signature tell of running his hand through his hair coming into play.

“Steve, it’s fine, take it off” you giggle, “It’s clearly a size too small.”

He huffs out a breath he didn’t know he was holding, rosy cheeks deflating before a toothy grin spreads across his face.

“Okay, yeah, al-alright.”

You turn your attention back to the TV to give him some ‘privacy’, your heart going into overdrive when you see the fabric drop to the floor in front of you. The couch shifts under his weight as he lays back down, and for a second you think you can hear his heart over your own. Tentative hands find their way to your hips, fingers digging into your softness when he pulls you in, the warmth of his bare chest seeps through the thick fabric of your sweater and your body melts against it. You feel the way it makes him relax behind you, a stubble covered chin hooking over your shoulder while your feet tangle with his. A content hum, leaves from between his lips next to your ear, the tip of his nose nudging behind it as he snuggles closer and it feels like he’s breathing you in.

“Mmm, so what’d I miss?” His voice comes out a little sleepy, and you hate the way it makes your thighs press. You wonder if he could feel it.

“So basically this woman cons people to buy houses on this island,” you start, stuttering when you feel the tips of his fingers under your sweater that sits rucked up to your waist, “And when they get there someone had dumped human waste creating these giant ants that hate humans.”

“Oh that’s…interesting,” he tries, making you laugh and it has him smiling into the crook of your neck.

“It’s ridiculous, it’s okay, that’s why she’s making fun of it.” You grin, running your fingers down his forearm, finding his hand that's made a home on the curve of your tummy to give it a reassuring squeeze.

He takes the opportunity to keep you there, intertwining your fingers and pulling you even closer. The sound of the rain against your window gets heavier, and the roll of thunder gets louder. The flicker of your candles makes the storm raging outside seem relaxing from the inside, and you can’t believe he drove all the way over here in this, just to cuddle with you on the couch. Somehow trying to burrow yourself into him even deeper, the wiggle of your hips when you readjust makes the air shift.

Your sleep shorts and the cotton of his sweatpants don’t hide what his jeans did. His grip on your hand tightens, and he bites his tongue to stop the moan that's begging to slip out when you do it again. His nose nudges harder behind your ear, exhaling a huff through it that makes you shiver.

“Honey,” it comes out as more of a plea than a warning, his lips that you’ve yet to feel against your own ghosting against the sensitive spot on your neck.

The feeling of how much he wants you pressing into the small of your back is what gives you the courage to turn around in his arms, ready to finally do what you’ve wanted since the last time you found yourself here. He lets your fingers slip through his, always keeping his palm against your skin until it sits on the small of your back. Both of yours land on the dark patch of hair on his chest that's even softer than it looks, slowly sliding them up till the pads of your thumbs trace his collar bone. With your head resting on one of his arms, his other pulls your bodies flush together before his thigh finds space between your own sliding you close enough for your noses to brush.

His half lidded eyes meet yours, and your breath catches in your throat when you see how they darken. He takes his time, letting his hand roam on its way from your back, fingers tracing up your ribs before the warmth of his big palm envelopes the already heated skin on your cheek. His gaze flicks down to your parted lips, licking his own while his thumb traces the pout begging him for a kiss.

“Please,” he whispers ,not knowing he beat you to it.

The connection is soft at first, just your top lip brushing against his bottom but it’s enough to make every inch of your skin come alive. A low groan rumbling deep from his chest, vibrating against your hands. He meets your eyes one more time down the slope of his nose before he closes the distance with nothing held back anymore, kissing you in a way that makes you feel like you’ve never been kissed the right way before. It’s like he knows just how to make your toes curl when they slot together, the tip of his tongue wasting no time when you sigh giving him the opening he needs. The blunt ends of your nails dig into the warmth of his skin, leaving half crescent moons over his pecs that’ll be hidden by the thick chestnut hair that covers them.

Your tongue meets his eagerly, cedar and rain making you dizzy when the top of his thigh adds pressure to the heat between your legs. Your noses bump, teeth scraping together while his hand leaves your cheek to squeeze at your hips encouraging the small roll they start to do on their own. The mess in your underwear only gets worse letting you move against the hard muscle with ease, your fingers weaving in the soft hair at the nape of his neck when he flexes it for you. He growls low when you give the roots a gentle pull at the same time your teeth tug at his bottom lip, his self control to try and be a gentleman slipping away.

“Jesus Christ baby,” Steve gasps, the new nickname making you smile when you give him a softer kiss loving the way it makes his skin flush.

“You started it,” you whisper, watching the way his cheeks push up before he chases you for another one, which you gladly give, letting your lips linger when he hooks your leg over his hip.

Close as close can get.

“Me?” He tuts, letting his hand slide up your thigh before squeezing at the curve of your ass, glancing down to see how you still roll against him “I don’t think so, you’ve been trying to take my clothes off since I walked through the door.”

He throws his head back with a laugh when you scoff, and you pretend to push him away only for his hold on you to tighten. His lips connect anywhere but yours as you play hard to get, trailing a wet path to your neck, teeth nipping at the spot that gets a sound from you that has him kicking up in his sweats. So he does it again, and this time he can’t stop the grind of his hips that meet yours when he gets you saying his name the same way.

“And what do you think you’re doing now?” You try to tease but it comes out too breathy to be taken seriously, especially when he starts to suck where his teeth just grazed.

He grins against your skin, nosing his way up your jaw before meeting your eyes again, something softening in the gold inside them that shines through the abyss.

“You want the truth?” He asks, bringing his hand up to cup your face, the pad of his thumb tracing the small bags under your eyes with a gentle touch and all you can do is nod.

“I just want to make you feel good, god - it’s all I’ve thought about for so long. Just wanna treat you right, take things slow,” his thumb drags across your bottom lip watching the way your eyes glaze over at his words. “Take you out to nice dinners, watch all your favorite movies, hear about your day, but really what I want to do right now is make you cum on my tongue.”

“Steve,” his name comes out broken, the roll of your hips becoming more pointed, and the swelling in your chest makes you feel like you’re ready to explode.

“You want that pretty girl?” He whispers, leaning close so his lips brush against yours, his eyebrows furrowing when you grind a certain way, your clit catching his tip.

“Y-yeah,” you whimper, eyes big and pleading, turning into putty from his sweet words.

He gives you a kiss that’s more gentle than the rest, before sitting up on his haunches letting you fall into the empty space on your back. A big hand wrapping around your ankle, moving your leg out of his way so you’re spread with him in the middle. Leaning forward, his fingers curl around the elastic band of your sleep shorts, giving you one last look from under his lashes before tugging them down your thighs, throwing them on the floor with his shirt.

“Shit - baby.” He groans, running a hand through his hair when he sees the effect he really has on you. “Better than my dreams.”

All the blood rushes to your cheeks from his affection, as gentle hands run up your calves when he starts to lean forward, fingers curling under your knees to lift them over his freckled shoulders. Tucking your bottom lip between your teeth, you start to feel shy exposed to him like this for the first time. A kaleidoscope of new feelings settles deep in your gut when his hot breath hits your core, thighs tensing that the pads of his thumbs try to soothe.

He looks up at you, from between your legs pressing a soft kiss to the place where your hip meets your thigh, making your back arch.

“You okay?” He whispers after another kiss, only this one on the inside of your thigh.

“Yeah, just nervous,” you giggle, feeling the warmth on your cheeks with your hand. If anyone would have told you that you’d have Steve Harrington between your legs begging to taste you a year ago, you’d have laughed in their face.

“Want me to stop?” He rests his cheek right where he kissed, looking content just to be doing this.

“No.” You smirk, reaching down to run a hand through his hair that was just begging for it, pushing back the stray that falls over his forehead.

He smiles, closing his eyes leaning into your touch for a minute before he turns his head, lips meeting your soft skin where he starts a path to where you want him most. You feel his breath and it sends a shiver down your spine, the tip of his nose spreading you apart first. He applies the kind of pressure against your bundle of nerves that makes you gasp, letting his tongue follow, collecting what you’ve already given him.

“Oh my god, Steve,” you whine, when he flattens the pink muscle doing it again, groaning loudly at the taste of you.

“So fuckin’ sweet, god, honey,” he mumbles against your cunt, replacing his nose with his lips, sucking your clit in a greedy way that makes your eyes hit the back of your head.

His fingers dig hard enough into the meat of your thighs, that you’re sure they’ll be bruises in the morning. The tip of his tongue tracing your entrance that flutters around him, threatening to suck him in and he can’t help himself, giving your body what it wants. Both your hands find their way to his hair, tangling your fingers in his honey colored locks searching for purchase when he starts to taste your walls, creating a steady rhythm that has you rocking against his face for more.

“Yeah, you like that?” He grunts, extending his tongue as far as it can go, drool and slick starting to drip down your thighs as he starts to lose himself in you.

“Uh-huh,” is all you manage to get out, jaw going slack at the way he feels like he’s eating you from the inside out, like he’s thought about this longer than a few weeks.

One of his hands lets go of your thigh while he starts to focus his attention back on your clit making you gasp when you feel the thickness of his finger press itself against where his tongue just was. The stretch makes you keen when he pushes one knuckle deep with ease, distracting you when he pushes the second one in as he starts to suck on your bundle of nerves.

“God - baby,” he gasps, when your walls take the third knuckle in by themselves, and it’s only then you notice the way he’s rutting against the couch in search of his own friction.

Your head pushes back into the cushions when he curves it, hitting the spot that only you’ve ever found on your own, and it has you babbling, your hips rolling up greedily for more which he gives you when he adds a second finger. He sets a pace that has your lashes fluttering against your cheeks after he lets you adjust to feeling so full.

“Come on, I can feel it, you’re close huh?” He asks against your clit, making you shudder, nodding your head when he starts flicking it with a wild tongue.

“Steve, Steve, Steve,” you whine, eyes closing tight, the band inside of you going taut, your hips grinding against his face without abandon as you try to take his fingers even deeper.

The sound of his name leaving your kiss bitten lips like a prayer makes a moan rumble deep from his chest, and it vibrates against your cunt, giving you just enough extra stimulation to make it snap. Vision going white behind your eyes, your body tenses while your mouth opens in a scream that falls on deaf ears when nothing actually comes out.

“Honey, honey, honey,” he babbles, his hips stuttering while his tongue refuses to stop despite the way your body shakes.

You murmur his name in a daze, trying to push his head away as you reach the verge of overstimulation and it takes him the third shove for him to finally listen, addicted to the way you taste. Feeling empty when he pulls his fingers out, your body betrays you trying to get them to stay. He kisses the inside of both of your thighs, smirking against your skin when your legs twitch because of it, slowly sliding his body up the length of yours. Skin flushed, and lips shining, you’d be embarrassed if he didn’t look like he just won the lottery.

His nose nudges yours before his lips steal a kiss that you eagerly give despite feeling so spent. Your fingers finding their way back into the hair at the nape of his neck, a smile tugging up the corners of your mouth when you feel the warmth of his own release in the cotton of the sweats.

“I hope you have another pair of pants for me.” He laughs, embarrassment making the tips of his ears turn red, the warm color only deepening when you grin and you realize you have more than just a crush on Steve Harrington.

#my writing #steve harrington #steve harrington smut #steve harrington x reader #steve harrington x reader smut #steve harrington x y/n #steve harrington x you #steve harrington x fem!reader #steve harrington fanfic #steve harrington fanfiction #steve harrington fic #steve harrington thoughts

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mrm0rgansw0man · 4 months

Note

hi !! can i have a more angsty arthur fic of the reader admiring him from afar and wanting to give him all the love he’s deserving of but feels she doesn’t have the chance to ? :)))) happy ending would be nice maybe arthur reads a note of hers !

god i love writing angst. LETS DO THISSS

hope you enjoy!! Xx @risingtripletaurus

I can let you down, I can make you Hurt.

Bitter, freezing cold. That was all you felt. Just the cold and the ache in your heart. Your whole chest ached, from the cold or from the emotions you were feeling you didn't know.

This whole Blackwater fucked up mess was just what you needed. You had already been struggling, being new to the gang and trying to help out and earn your keep. And, not only that, but Arthur Morgan hated you. You were sure of it, you had no clue what you did to offend him but just until right before this mess he started pulling away from you.

He was always friendlier with all the women of the camp, but you and him had taken a liking to each other. But one day, it just stopped. The hellos. The cups of coffee he'd bring you every morning. The shared cigarettes. The random talks, it was so nice. You'd be lying if you said you hadn't fallen for him. You though he could be falling for you too, but looks like you were wrong. You knew it was too good to be true.

"You're so down." Charles said simply. You looked up at him, not even having noticed he came into the cabin you had been sitting in.

"I can practically feel it in the air around you." He continued. Your eyes flit away from him and back to the floor. You watched a few snowflakes melt into your boots.

"Why do you care?" You asked quietly. "I'm sure you've got much better things to worry about than my problems."

Charles shrugged. "Just wanted you to know I'm here if you want to talk. I'm not doing much lately, cause of this hand. So I've noticed more."

Tears welled in your eyes. You blinked them away before you thought Charles could notice. But he still did.

"I've never seen you like this before. I'm worried about you, (Name)." Charles said. His voice more stern now. "Ask anyone, it feels like and looks like, no offense, that the life has been drained out of you."

"It's jus' the cold..." You mumbled. "I'm fine Charles.."

"You know, I was sitting in this cabin with you for hours. You didn't move once. You didn't even know I was here, did you? And Abigail came in to try and talk to you, but it was like you were in a whole different world."

Uh oh. Fuck. He's got you there. You didn't even know Charles had come in, let alone Abigail.

"Have you ever had to love someone from a distance Charles?" You asked weakly. You finally lifted your head enough to meet his eyes.

"No." Charles said with a sigh. "But I can't imagine it's a great feeling."

"It's not." You said with a sniffle. "Not at all."

"Can I ask who it is?" Charles asked you cautiously.

You let out a choked cry. You took a few deep shaky breaths, trying to keep yourself together. It was getting harder and harder by the second. God dammit Charles why do you have to care?

"Arthur." You whispered, wiping away the few tears that managed to escape your eyes. "It's Arthur."

Charles didn't say anything, he only nodded. So you kept talking.

"He was so kind to me when I first started riding with you. We got on real well too." You said, finally starting to weep. Who cares anyways? "I started falling for him. Quick and hard, and could you blame me?"

"No, I was convinced he was sweet on you." Charles admitted. Though all it did was send more tears floding out of your eyes.

"He'd bring me coffee in the mornings. We'd talk. He always said Hi to me at the very least when we crossed paths." You said softly. "And he made sure I was eatin'- I mean you know how I was when I first got here."

"Always sick and thin as paper." Charles said grimly, having been on of the few people that helped take care of you during that hard time.

"Neither of us sleep very well, he'd come find me or I'd go find him. We had such nice talks on those nights, he opened up to me. Like really, really opened up to me. And I opened up to him too." You continued, your cries becoming harder and your voice rising.

"I don't know what I did!" You cried. "But one day it all just stopped! He wouldn't talk to me, he hasn't even looked me in the eyes Charles! I don't know what's wrong with me! I just want to love him!"

"Oh (Name)..." Charles started, but you cut him off.

"He deserves so much Charles!" You sobbed. "He is such a good man, no matter what he says when he looks in the mirror! I just want to love him, he doesn't even need to love me back! Do you know how pathetic that is? How disgustingly pathetic I am to love him like this!?"

You inhaled and exhaled at a frantic pace, running your hands over your tear soaked face. It was too much. You couldn't breathe. You wrapped your arms around yout face and buried yourself in your knees. Charles rushed to your side, kneeling down next to you. He placed both his hands on your shoulders and just stayed there, giving you something to hang onto. Keeping you grounded.

You finally lifted your head and met Charles's eyes, only to find them already locked on you.

"I just want to love him. T-that is all I w-want." You managed to get out between sobs. "And now I've lost m-my chance! I can't keep going like this Charles! He's- he's been through so much. That poor man has suffered and s-suffered and I just want t-to make him feel like he deserves something!"

"Arthur-"

"Needs me! And I need him to need me because look how badly I need him! If he doesn't love me the-then what am I supposed to do?!"

You broke apart, sobbing harder than you were before. Probably harder than you have ever cried in your life. Charles caught you, and he wrapped his arms around you. He let you sob and scream into his chest until you couldn't breathe.

"I just want a chance I just want a chance! I want to know what I did wrong!" Was all you could say, over and over again. Charles rocked you back and fourth, letting you cry yourself out. It took at least an hour, but eventually your cries had lulled to a stop.

Once your breath had returned to normal, Charles spoke.

"I'm going to go get Miss Roberts and Miss Gaskill. They'll take care of you. I'm going to talk to Arthur, don't you worry about this for another second." Charles said soothingly. It was all you could do to nod a yes at him. He pulled away from you, but right as he was about to reach the door you called out for him.

"Why are you being so kind to me?" You asked horsely. Charles looked back at you and gave you a small smile.

"First of all, I like you. Quite a bit, your a good person (Name)." He said simply. "And secondly, you haven't moved from that spot for over a day and you haven't even noticed. Someone needed to do something."

And with that, he left. You sat in silence until Abigail and Mary-Beth showed up. They tried to talk with you but you didn't have the strength to even reply to them. They accepted this, and helped you to your room and laid you down in your cot.

You laid there for what felt like hours, completely lost in thought.

"Glad to see your feelin' better, Miss." Arthur said, handing you a tin cup filled with scalding hot coffee. You took it gratefully.

"Thank you, Mr. Morgan." You said with a smile. "I've got to say I'm liking your company more and more each morning you visit me."

"Oh don't be too flattered, your jus' the only one up as early as me." Arthur said with a smirk, playfully elbowing you in the side. You chucked and hoped Arthur didn't see the blush spreading across your face.

"Well a girl can dream!" You said, that same flirty smirk crossing your face.

"Arthur! I need to talk to you!" Dutch called.

Arthur groaned in annoyance. He turned to leave, but at the last moment he turned back. He grabbed your hand and squeezed it.

"Meet me at the campfire tonight. We never get t' talk without gettin' bothered." Arthur said. You nodded your head happily as he turned to leave, running of to do whatever the hell Dutch wanted him for.

You felt yourself smiling at the memory, even if it was just a weak one.

That night at the campfire was the first of many, you two met every night you could. And that was when you truly began to fall for Arthur, those nights by the burnt out campfire. The last night it happened, you told him about your life before joining the gang, and why you were so sick when you first arrived.

"No one in my family was right." You said with a deep sigh. "My daddy hung himself in our living room right before my mama had me. And since then she just never had any happy in her head."

"Jesus.." Arthur mumbled. "Was your Mama good t'you, at least?"

"Pfft, no!" You said with a laugh. You took another swig of whiskey from the bottle Arthur stole from Pearson for you. "Beat me halfway to hell every other day. I think she had some disease. Think I might have it too, honest to god."

"D'ya really think that?" Arthur asked, taking a swig of his own whiskey bottle.

"I jus' get so low sometimes.. Not enough happy in my own head." You said sadly. "Not something I can really help, but it happens. Part of the reason I was so sick when I first got here, that and being out in the elements."

"What a woman you are, Miss. (Name)!" Arthur said with a laugh. "Survivin' yer' Mama, survivin' runnin' away into the wild, and survivn' yourself!"

Arthur and you spent a lot of time talking about your past life that night, so much time you had finished that whole bottle of whiskey. Bittersweet tears filled your eyes as you remembered what happened next.

You stood up from the ground, and wobbled your way over Arthur and poked him in the chest.

"Tell me, Mr. Morgan!" You slurred. "What have you survivedddd?"

"Oh sweetheart, we ain't got time for that tonight." He said, shaking his head at your drunken boldness.

"Pleaseeee Arthurr??" You whined, a wrong step sending you tumbling down into his lap. He wrapped his arms around you instinctively, and you smiled happily. It was a giddy childlike smile that Arthur would never forget.

Arthur had no idea what possessed him to do so, but he gulped down the last of his whiskey and started talking.

"My mama died when I was real young..." Arthur said, his voice going quiet. "My daddy was a thief, a petty one at that.. Wasn't even a real father. He wasn't good t'me at all. The lawmen got him when I was jus' eleven."

" 'M so sorry Arthur..." You said, wrapping your arms around him and hugging him tight. He rested his chin on your head and returned the hug, god it was so nice to be held like this. To be able to feel freely.

Arthur had no clue why he was so drawn to you from the very start, but ever since he first laid his eyes on you he couldn't get enough. He knew he was a goner, but he'd be lying if he said the thought didn't terrify him. Hell, sitting here like this with you terrified him! But even with the fear in the back of his mind, he could feel the whiskey clouding his thoughts and what little remained of the walls he so constantly put up crumbling.

Arthur went on about his family for a bit, and then told you all about getting taken on by Dutch and Hosea. He told you about what a deliquent he was, told you about when they brought John in. And Miss. Tilly. Then he told you all about a girl named Mary Linton, and about the love they used to share. You listened intently to every word, even in your drunken state. You prayed to whatever god above that you remembered this all tomorrow.

"I had a boy once." Arthur said, after a long stretch of silence. "His name was Issac. He passed on, though."

"Oh Arthur." You whispered, finding his hand and holding it tight. "I'm so sorry!"

"Some bastards killed him 'nd his Mama. Eliza." Arthur said, his voice breaking. "Shot 'em. All for a measly ten dollars."

"What is wrong with this world.." You murmred. Arthur just shook his head.

"I wasn't there f'him much. I shoulda been a better father to my little boy..." Arthur mumbled, his words starting to slur. "I was good to them when I was 'round, but that doesn't make up for nothin'. I'm a horrible person, (Name)."

You sat up, moving your legs around Arthur so you were straddling him. You grabbed his face in your hands, forcing him to look you in the eyes.

"Did you love his Mama? Did you treat her well?" You asked fiercely.

Arthur nodded his head frantically. The change in you startled him.

"Did you play with your boy? Did you hold him? Did you tell him stories, or sing him to sleep?" You pressed on, even with the tears forming in Arthur's eyes.

"Y-Yes!" Arthur said, stumbling over his words. "He was small, but he still liked to run. He liked being held-"

Arthur stopped, a strangled cry escaping his throat. You took your hands off of Arthur's face and wrapped both of your arms around his neck. He wrapped his arms back around you, burying his face in your hair and neck. Arthur thought that he should want to leave, but he realized he'd rather be buried alive then leave your arms right now.

"His favorite was 'Hush Little Baby'" Arthur said softly, you could feel the tears falling from his eyes now. "I was so happy to sing it to him the last time I...."

You sat up- which scared the wits out of Abigail and Mary-Beth-and covered your eyes. Trying to block out the image of what came soon after that.

The comfort you brought Arthur. The way he held your face in his hands. The kiss, so passionate. You both tasted of lust, whiskey, and pain. It was a fiery mix of emotions that sent you both stumbling into his cot and ripping off each other's clothes.

And then he wanted nothing to do with you.

"Honey? What's wrong?!" Abigail said, she wrapped her arm around you and Mary-Beth took your hands off of your face and held them.

Charles had given them a brief explanation of what had happened, but they were anxious for him to get back. They wanted to know what Arthur had to do with you being in an absolute state. They sent each other worried glances.

"When will Charles be back?" You asked with a sniffle. You leaned into Abigail and held Mary-Beth's hands tighter.

"Shouldn't be much longer, I promise honey." Abigail said.

"Want to tell us what's wrong?" Mary-Beth asked softly, she was testing the waters.

You looked between your two friends, and smiled weakly. God, you loved them so much.

"Okay."

»»———-　　———-««

"Arthur? Are you here?" Charles called out before going right into Arthur's room.

Charles found Arthur sitting on the edge of his cot. He was reading a letter.

"What is it, Charles?" Arthur said, still not looking up from the paper in his hands. Arthur didn't even seem like he was listening to Charles.

"Put that down. I need to talk to you." Charles said, his voice becoming more serious.

Arthur re-read the words written on the paper one last time before looking up at Charles.

'Arthur, please tell me whatever I did. I just want to talk to you again. Please, just talk to me whenever you read this. Your true friend, (Name)'

"You know, (Name) isn't doing good. She's been sitting in the corner of her room, curled up. Not moving, not talking. Nothing." Charles said simply.

Arthur's eyes widened, but he didn't say anything. Charles continued.

"I sat there with her for hours, and she didn't move a muscle. I watched Abigail come in and try and talk to her, but it was like she was talking to a wall." Charles said. "And that was after Molly had tried to talk to her for hours the night before. She's the one who came and got me."

"Is..is she alright?" Arthur asked, his nerves evident in his voice. He knew this was his fault. He could feel it in his bones. Oh god, he was a fucking idiot,

"No! She's not alright!" Charles snapped. "She barely even looks human! When I finally got through to her all she could do was cry! And she was crying about you!"

"No.." Arthur said softly. "Where is she now? I need to go see her-"

"You can go see her when we're done here." Charles said sternly. "Arthur, did you know she was in love with you?"

Arthur ran a hand over his face. Oh great, now he'd really done it.

'I'm such a piece of shit..' Arthur thought to himself. 'God.. Oh my god..'

"No." Arthur said. "I jus' thought... I don't know what I thought! I jus' didn't think she loved me."

"I just want to love him. He doesn't even need to love me back." Charles said with a sigh. "That's what she said to me, while she was sobbing so hard she couldn't breathe. And then 'I just want a chance! I want to know what I did wrong!'"

"I get yer' point!" Arthur shouted. "Jesus christ..."

"She's broken. Between having to be here, the whole mess in Blackwater and you completely disregarding her, she is broken." Charles said.

"I KNOW GOD DAMMIT I GET IT!" Arthur shouted, standing up from his cot. Charles stood firm, crossing his arms over his chest. He had said his part, now it was Arthur's turn to speak.

"Does.. Does she really love me?" Arthur asked weakly, taking off his hat and running his hands through his hair. Charles nodded. " I thought she was just' sweet on me a little bit, I thought I was jus' sweet on her.."

"Do you feel different now?" Charles asked. When he joined this gang, he never expected this would be the role he took on. Oh well.

Arthur stilled for a moment. He knew how he felt about you. But how could he even say it out loud, knowing how love had turned out for him in the past?

Mary had to leave him. Her father hated him because of his life as an outlaw.

His love for Eliza and his child only got them shot.

How could he condemn you, someone who has suffered and suffered, to a life with him? He wanted nothing more than to make you feel loved, protected, and cared for. He wanted to hold you like he did that night, to keep you close. To kiss away all your pain and never let you feel like you don't deserve it. Because you deserved the world, Arthur just didn't think he could give it to you.

And he was scared. He was so scared, so instead of being a decent fucking human he ran. And now look at what he did to you. Sent you right back to that dark part of your mind where you never wanted to be stuck in again.

"Yes." Arthur said finally. "But, how could I even try anythin' with her? I don't want nothin' happening to her cause of me! She deserves so much more than I can give her!"

"Arthur, I don't think you understand." Charles said with a deep sigh. "She doesn't want more! She isn't expecting anything of you! All she wants is. you."

"Why does this matter to you anyways! Who are you, t'come in here and talk t'me about this!" Arthur spat. "You have no right-"

"Yes I do!" Charles said, his voice rising. "I took care of (Name) when she first joined us, so I'll continue to take care of her now! She can't function! She needs you, Arthur! And I have a feeling you need her too."

Arthur stood there, glaring at Charles. He didn't know what to say. He wanted to scream foul things at him, for getting into his head like that. But he also wanted to thank him. For being there for you while he failed miserably.

"Figure it out. And then you go see her." Charles said coolly. "Don't go see her like this, she's not strong enough."

Charles left, Arthur's cold stare practically ushering them out the door. Arthur stood there for a few more moments, not really knowing what to do with himself. Charles had sent his mind reeling.

He knows what he wants to do. He wants to go to you, hold you, kiss you, tell you how sorry he is. Tell you that he loved you so much but he got scared, and instead of facing it like a man he ran like a boy. He never wanted to hurt you, but look how bad you were hurting now!

You loved him. And he loved you, but Arthur ran away and now would you ever be able to forgive him? He hadn't even told you he loved you! Arthur was sure he had already ruined everything. Not to mention the two of you slept together, which Arthur didn't even know if you knew it happned or not you were both so god damn drunk!

Arthur sat down and sighed. He took out the letter you left for him to find. He read it again, only this time he stopped over a certain line.

"Just talk to me."

It echoed in his mind. Arthur could practically hear your voice, begging him to talk to you. And he knew what he had to do. Arthur folded the letter up and placed it neatly in his pocket, before placing his hat back on his head. He made a beeline for the hut you were staying in with Molly.

»»———-　　———-««

You had just finished telling your sob story to Abigail and Mary-Beth when Charles returned, not even giving them a moment to react.

You didn't even look up at him when he came back, feeling so weak having to relive what happened with Arthur yet again.

"He's coming. I don't know when, he needed to collect himself. But he'll be here to see you, (Name)." Charles said softly. You nodded, reminding yourself to go and thank him properly when you were better.

"Miss Roberts, Miss Gaskill, please stay with her until Arthur gets here." Charles asked them. Of course they agreed. And then Charles left, god he needed a drink.

Abigail and Mary-Beth stay there with you, wrapped up in blankets in your cot. It was a comforting couple of minutes of silence before Arthur practically broke the door down and rushed into your room. Abigial and Mary-Beth said some hurried goodbyes to you before rushing out of the room.

You knew Arthur was there, but you couldn't look at him. You continued to lay down on your cot, wrapped up in blankets and facing the wall.

Arthur looked at you for a few moments, before taking a deep breath and starting to speak.

"(Name)" Arthur said softly. "Can I uh.. May I sit with you?"

You rolled over slowly, and forced yourself to meet Arthur's eyes. They looked just as broken as yours did when you looked in the mirror. You nodded yes weakly, and Arthur sat down on your cot next to you. He placed a hand on your shoulder, and you closed your eyes. Arthur saw the tears flowing from them.

"I'm so sorry honey." Arthur said with a shaky sigh. "I should never have pushed you away like that."

"You fucked me." You spat, opening your eyes to look at him. "You fucked me! And then you wouldn't even look me in the eyes!"

"You know!?" Arthur gasped, completely shocked. He didn't think you were sober enough to remember what happened that night.

"I OPENED UP TO YOU ARTHUR!" You yelled, finding the strength in your anger to sit up in your bed. "I GOT CLOSE TO YOU- I LET YOU IN! YOU KNOW THINGS ABOUT ME KNOW ONE ELSE DOES!"

Before you even knew what you were doing, you got up and started pounding your fists against Arthur's back. He was caught off guard, so you got a couple solid punches in before he turned around and grabbed you by the wrists.

"You FUCKED ME! AND THEN YOU THREW ME TO THE SIDE LIKE SOME WHORE! YOU MADE ME LOVE YOU! AND ALL FOR WHAT!? ALL FOR WHAT ARTHUR MORGAN!? IS THAT ALL YOU WANTED FROM ME FROM THE START!?" You cried, not knowing when the shouting stopped and your tears began.

You fought to get your wrists out of Arthur's grasp. But he wouldn't let you go. In fact he held on to you tighter, pulling you firm against his chest. He wrapped his arms around you tight and without even knowing what he was doing started peppering your head with kisses.

You punched, you sobbed, you screamed, you fought like a bat outta hell trying to get out of his grasp. But Arthur wouldn't let you go. He took every hit, every foul name and every insult.

Eventually, your thrashing stopped. Your sobs turned into small shaky breathes, and instead of punching him your arms were wrapped around his neck and you crawled into his lap. Arthur started rocking you back and fourth, and was whispering comforting things in your ear.

"I didn't know you remembered.." Arthur said softly. "Honey.. I thought I took advantage of you. I didn't think you'd wanna sleep with me if you were sober."

Arthur felt you softly shaking your head, but you didn't speak. So Arthur kept talking.

"I never woulda' acted how I did if I had known you remembered that night." Arthur whispered. "And, I can't lie to ya' honey. I was afraid. I didn't feel worthy of somthin' like what we had going on. I wasn't thinkin' right- actually I don't think I was thinkin' at all."

"Do you love me?" You asked, your voice a broken whisper. "Arthur I have loved you from the first moment I saw you. You know just as well as I do that there is some type of connection between us that we didn't even spark ourselves. Everyone saw it happen before their very eyes."

Arthur looked down at you, and you were looking up at him already. You looked like a scared little girl, and it broke Arthur's heart. How could he have done this to you?

Arthur swallowed thickly. It was now or never. He was afraid, but his fear meant nothing. Nothing mattered when it came to you. Arthur couldn't bare to lose you, especially not like this.

"Yes." Arthur breathed out, a small chuckle leaving him. "God, I love you so much. Please forgive me f'being such a goddamn moron-"

Before Arthur could continue, you grabbed Arthur by his coat collar and pulled him down into a passionate kiss. Arthur moved his hands to cup your face, using his thumbs to wipe the tears that fell from your closed eyes.

You kissed until the both of you needed to pull away for air, and then Arthur kissed you again. He never thought he'd be able to feel your soft and loving lips against his own ever again, so he made sure to savor every moment.

Once you had both caught your breath, Arthur sat there. He held your face in his hands. The love in his eyes sent a blush to your cold and tear stained face.

"I love you (Name) (Last-name)." Arthur said, placing a gentle kiss to your forehead. "S'much. More than you'll ever know. More than I'll ever be able to show ya' sweetheart."

You let out an airy laugh, and for the first time in a long time you felt like you could breathe. Your chest wasn't heavy anymore and it felt like your heart was actually beating.

"But I sure as hell will try. Like you said, there is somethin' between us that's not even we could control." Arthur said softly. The smile on his face sent butterflies to your stomach. " 'M so sorry I made you feel so horrible. I'll do everythin' I can to make this right. To make us right, honey."

"It's okay.." You whispered. "It's not entirely your fault, y'know I'm sick anyway-"

"Which is another reason why I shoulda' been smarter!" Arthur said, his voice soft still but also firm. He pulled you into another hug. "I need to keep the happy inside your head."

"You remember that?" You gasped. You were deeply touched that he had remembered something so small.

"I'd have to be dead to forget any of the talks I've had with you sweetheart." Arthur said, his tone nothing but truthful. You smiled into his chest, his words made you feel like you were floating on a cloud.

You both sat there in a comfortable silence, Arthur gently rubbing your back and rocking you back and fourth. You had your eyes closed, listening to the steady beat of his heart. Arthur noticed a shift in your breathing, and he knew you had fallen asleep.

As quietly and comfortably as he could, Arthur shifted so that you were both laying down again. Arthur wrapped you up in a blanket and let out a content sigh. This felt so right. So perfect. He was still scared, but he couldn't let it keep him from you. It was better to be afraid with you, so you could learn and grow together, instead of pushing himself away and hurting the both of you.

"I'm gonna give you the world, my sweet girl. Jus' you wait and see.." Arthur whispered. He planted a kiss on the top of your head, before drifting off himself.

»»———-　　———-««

a/n: i hope you guys enjoy this! ive literally spent all my free time on it the past few days lol i got wayyy to invested into this, but are we suprised at this point??? Xx

#arthur morgan #rdr2 #rdr2 arthur #x reader #arthur morgan x reader #red dead fanfiction #red dead redemption 2 #angst with a happy ending #angst #arthur morgan x you #arthur morgan rdr2 #lots of angst #but also lots of love #arthur morgan angst #fic request #sad with a happy ending #sadnees #arthur morgan fanfiction

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turvi · 6 days

Text

Rumours

WARNING: angst, cussing

Rumours have it that Severus Snape doesn't shower. There is nothing sexy about him. All the girls in Hogwarts want to avoid him like a plague, and the marauders painting him as an obsessive creep also does not help his case. Maybe that is why Y/n feels so wrong to feel attracted to the boy.

Every time she crosses paths with Severus she can't help but feel a sensation in her chest as he looks at her, she tries to tear her eyes away from the boy, but the intense look in Severus' eyes makes it difficult for her to look somewhere else or even think about something else.

But as fate would have it she was James Potter's cousin. Ironically, she is attracted to the boy her cousin picks on the most. She can't dare to look at him while her cousin is around. What if he finds out? If a random boy approaches her James comes between them and stares the boy until he leaves Merlin knows what he will do to Severus. Y/n hates how James treats her like a kid when she is only a year younger than him

Y/n is often lost in thought trying to figure out why she feels like this about Severus. What is it about his eyes that traps her?

One day as she walks to her class she was pulled into a broom closet. Her instant panic was replaced with relief when she found the same onyx eyes that has been haunting her thoughts all day. "What do you want?"

Her eyes flutter. Even though Severus was whispering it felt like his baritone voice shook every inch of her soul. Y/n somehow musters up the courage to speak up "what do you mean?"

Severus scoffed "don't act innocent. I see how you stare at me. What is it? You want to turn me into a clown as well, turn me into a toy like your cousin does that you can torment and torture whenever you feel like?"

Her heart broke. She knows his words were not targeted to her. Who would not snap like that after facing so much? "Say something dammit"

"I love you"

"Bullshit"

Y/n cannot blame him. For some reason she cannot find a reason to hate him. She is really trying to but there is a softness in his onyx eyes that makes her determined that there is more to Severus than just being a 'greasy haired creep'.

"You don't have to believe me, but I do love you. And I also know that you love someone else."

Severus groans "miss l/n you have no idea what you are talking about"

"I am not asking you to feel the same" Y/n says but her eyes tell a different story

After a few minutes silence Severus speaks again "you cannot feel for me like this. This is merely infatuation".

As he starts to walk away Y/n spoke up finally without any fear "You do not get to tell me how I feel Severus Tobias Snape"

Severus turns around. Feeling angry yet curious at the tone she picks on him "excuse me?"

A shiver ran down her spine yet she stood her ground "you heard me loud and clear I fucking love you Severus. Whether you like it or not and I am not letting someone take that from me. Not even you".

Severus was taken aback about the way this girl talked to him. He walks back towards her, his eyes looking at her intensely "and what if I never love you back" his voice lowers

Y/n scoffed "you don't get it do you"? Severus raised an eyebrow but she continues taking a step closer to him. Severus tries to look for disgust or anger in her eyes but all he finds is passion. She continues "Severus, my curse is not that you will never love me but my curse is living a life where I am not in love with you"

Severus feels his heart throb. No this is wrong. He clenched his fist hoping it is only because of the extra cup of coffee he had this evening but one look in her eyes....and there it was again.

Without a word he turns around and leaves. Y/n stood there and watched him dissapear in the darkness unaware of the tears that were right now falling down his cold cheeks

A/N: Part 2? Maybe? REBLOG AND COMMENT IF YOU LIKED THIS

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honeyhoneypp · 9 days

Text

Can We Be Together..?

One Piece men figuring out their feelings for you

What is that strange feeling they've been getting in their stomach lately when they're around you? Why does their heart race so much when you do such simple things like walking past them? Perhaps, this is the feeling us humans call “love.”

Hello, this is my first fanfic! And I’m sorry if I have some errors, english is not my first language! Also right now im in the Fishman Island arc, so if I get their personalities wrong please let me know! I’ll really appreciate it!

Female pronouns! Fluff + Angst on Sanji’s part

==================================

L U F F Y

Now, some people might think that Luffy doesn't understand the concept of love, but he's actually not that dumb, he understands what love is, he just never had the ideas of loving someone romantically or being in a relationship since his thoughts are only filled with "meat, king of the pirates and his crewmates".

But lately, his thoughts were also filled with you. He thought that he would never experience these kinds of feelings, but then he started to feel strange when he was around you… Of course, he didn't know what these feelings meant since he had never had these kinds of feelings before, so he decided to ask Robin what these feelings meant since he figured that she would know.

==================================

It was nighttime, everyone was on bed sleeping calmly, except for 3 people, Robin, Luffy, and you. Robin was watching at the front of the ship and you were at the back of the ship but Luffy couldn’t sleep since he kept thinking about you, he couldn’t get you out of his mind for some strange reason.

Luffy— “Dammit… why can’t I get you out of my mind?”

He kept murmuring to himself the same thing over and over again, until he gave up and decided to go ask Robin. He went to the front of the ship to ask Robin about all of these feelings, when he got to the front of the ship he saw Robin calmly watching her surroundings while drinking coffee.

Luffy— “Hey, Robin.”

Robin— “Oh, Luffy! What are you doing this late at night? Can’t sleep?”

Luffy— “Yup.”

Robin— “And why is that?”

Luffy— He sits next to Robin — “I just can’t stop thinking…”

Robin— “Thinking about..?”

Luffy— “____.”

Robin— “Oh? Can’t stop thinking about ____, huh?” — She smirks —

Luffy— “Yeah, I don’t know why but I have this funny feeling on my tummy when she’s around me, and I know it’s not from hunger…”

She nods, her suspicions about Luffy liking you becoming true, ever since she saw the way Luffy stares at you and how he shares his food with you, she started to get suspicious, but she never thought her captain would actually be in love with one of her crewmates.

Robin— “I see, do you feel something else when you’re around her?”

Luffy— “Yeah, my heart starts beating fast… fast like a drum!”

Robin— “Have you considered maybe you might like her?”

Luffy— “What does that have to do with anything? I like all of you guys!”

Robin— She laughs — “I’m not talking about that kind of liking, Luffy. I’m talking about liking her romantically.”

Luffy— “Romantically..? Oh, you mean like love?”

Robin— Nod —

Luffy— He turns his head to stare at the sky — “Love, huh..? But I never had those feelings for someone, why would I have those kinds of feelings now?”

Robin— “Well, those feelings are love symptoms, Luffy. Now, tell me, what do you like about her?”

Luffy— “What do I like about her? Hm… Let’s see…” — He thinks for a moment — “I like her smile, her eyes, her appearance, the way she looks at me, her personality, her hugs, how she has fun with me, the way she supports me, her smell, how kind she is, how she cares about us, her—“

Robin— “I get it, Luffy.” — She laughs — “Luffy, you clearly have feelings for her.”

Luffy— “…So I do have feelings for her, huh..?” — He laughs — “So what should I do now, Robin? Should I ask her to marry her like Boa does with me? Or…”

Robin— “Not at all, maybe you could ask her for marriage in the future but I don’t think that’ll be necessary right now. You should go and tell her how you feel, Luffy. Tell her all the things you like about her, but remember to always make her happy.”

Luffy— He turns around to see the back of the ship, where you were —

Robin— “So what are you waiting for? Go on, tell her.”

Luffy— He giggles — “You’re right, Robin. I should go tell her.” — He stands up and quickly goes into your direction —

Robin— She chuckles — “Never thought I’ll see my captain in love.”

Z O R O

He's a complicated guy, he knows he has feelings for you but he doesn't want to accept it, he just can't focus on that right now, his priorities are becoming the greatest swordsman, helping Luffy become king of the pirates and protecting his crew, he doesn't have time for some silly crushes!

He tries his best to push these feelings away, but he can't. Every time he sees you, his heart and breathing speed up, and the fact that you always pop into his mind at random doesn't help. This man ends up avoiding you at every opportunity because he can't hold a conversation with you without acting cold or stuttering a word or two. So, he finally gives up on ignoring these feelings and decides to ask Nami for help.

==================================

Zoro was training on the Crow’s nest, he had been working out more frequently lately, and the reason is you. You’re the reason of why he’s been working out more frequently, it’s the best way to avoid you and to stop thinking about you.

He can't help but hate how you pop into his mind at random times, he hates how he can't stop staring at you, he hates how he can't hold a conversation with you, he hates how some of his crewmates who are aware of his feelings for you can't help but make tease him.

But what he hates the most is how the “shitty cook” flirts with you, he hates that he makes you laugh and that he can actually hold a conversation with you, he hates how he compliments you every chance he gets, he hates it.

But now none of that matters, he was focused on his training until you decided to pop in his mind, he got annoyed, really annoyed. He puts more plates on the bar to try to forget about you and focus on the heavy weights, but that doesn’t help at all.

He can't stop thinking about your lips, he can't stop thinking about your beautiful eyes and how they shine under the sun, he can't stop thinking about your beautiful skin shining under the sun, he loves everything about you when it comes to looks, he really loves your beauty.

He also loves your personality, he loves how strong you are, he loves how determined you are to achieve your goals, he can't stop thinking about the way you stand up for yourself when someone tries to belittle you, he loves your strong character.

But he also loves the other side of the coin, your kind and caring nature, he loves how you care about your crewmates and their well-being, he can't ignore how kind you are to everyone and how you try to make things right.

He finally decides to give up and sits on the floor to relax and think about everything that’s happening with his feelings. He doesn’t know what to do.

Zoro— “Dammit, woman… why can’t you just get out of my head?”

He stands up and quickly goes to the Sunny’s deck where he finds Nami sunbathing. He decides to ask her for some help with you.

Zoro— “Hey, Nami.” — He sits next to her —

Nami— “Oh, hey, Zoro! Do you need something?”

Zoro— He nods —

Nami— “Well… what is it?”

Zoro— “It’s about… ____…”

Nami— She smirks — “Oh, I get it now, you want me to help you get with her?”

Zoro— He nods embarrassed —

Nami— “Okay! That’ll be a million berries!”

Zoro— “WHAT?!”

Nami— She laughs — “Calm down I’m just teasing, Zoro.”

Zoro— He grits his teeth — “Whatever.”

Nami— “Okay! First of all, don’t act so cold with her! She hates it when you act that way, she even has mentioned that to me, and she’s sad because she thinks you hate her!”

Zoro— “…She… thinks I hate her?”

Nami— Nod — “So stop acting so cold with her, got it?!”

Zoro— He simply nods, he can’t believe he’s been making you feel this way —

Nami— “Second, be honest with her about your feelings, you can’t just be lying to yourself about not having a crush on her, tell her how you appreciate her looks and how you’ll buy her everything she wants.”

Zoro— “Okay…”

Nami— “And third of all, don’t hurt her feelings anymore, make her happy, make her smile, you always see how Sanji flirts with her and makes her laugh, so why don’t you do the same?”

Zoro— He sighs — “You’re right.”

Nami— “You know, you should go talk to her and tell her how you feel.”

Zoro— Nod — “Thanks for the advice, Nami.” — He stands up to go look for you —

Nami— “Oh! One last thing. Zoro!”

Zoro— He turns his head around — “Hm?”

Nami— “Go take a shower, she doesn’t like stinky men.”

Zoro— He gasps — “SHUT UP!”

S A N J I

Sanji is another complicated man, as he flirts with any slightly attractive woman he sees, and you were no exception… well, that was at the beginning, until of course, he started having other feelings for you, it wasn't just lust anymore, but they were also romantic feelings.

He knows how much he loves you, he knows how much he needs you, but he can't talk to you without stuttering, he feels like his heart is going to jump out of his chest every time he sees you, and when you talk to him his breathing fades quickly.

He wants to talk to you, he wants to let you know how much he loves you, but he can't help but get nervous when he gets any closer to you, making every interaction the two of you have dry. Usopp notices his feelings for you and decides to help him.

==================================

Sanji was quietly cooking dinner, but then you walked through the kitchen door with a big smile ready to ask Sanji if he needed help with his cooking. Sanji senses your presence but instead of turning around he freezes and starts thinking about you.

Your soft, beautiful, glowing skin, oh how he wishes he could gently caress your delicate skin, your pretty lips, and how he wishes he could touch them with his own lips. Your beautiful, beautiful eyes, he just wants to look at them for the rest of his life.

Sure, you're the most beautiful woman he's ever seen, but it's not all about looks with you. He also loves your gentle personality, he loves how you always treat him right and how you're always there for him, he loves how you always stand up for yourself, he loves your kind and fierce nature.

But one thing he can't think about or he'll get an instant nosebleed is touching your beautiful, naked curves-

— “Hi, Sanji! I just wanted to come and help you finishing dinner, only if you need any help of course!”

Sanji— He quickly snaps out of his imagination —“I- No, thank you… I’m okay.”

— You freeze in your place, why was he acting so dry with you lately? did you do something wrong that made him upset? — “Um… are you sure? I can help you wash the dishes!”

Sanji— “No, thank you.”

— You bite your lip — “Okay.”

You quickly walk away from the kitchen with teary eyes but Usopp was about to enter the kitchen, he was surprised to see your teary eyes.

Usopp— “____? Hey, are you crying? Are you ok-“

You quickly ran off to the girls' dorm, not wanting your crewmates to see your pathetic crying, how can you cry over a man? That would be stupid. Usopp quickly entered the kitchen only to see Sanji leaning his elbows on the counter and scratching his head in frustration.

Sanji— “Stupid, stupid, stupid… why can’t I just talk to her like a normal person” — He says to himself —

Usopp— “Sanji? Did you said something to ____?”

Sanji— “What? Why are you asking..?”

Usopp— “Well I just saw her running away to the girl’s dorm, and I’m pretty sure I saw her crying.”

Sanji— He opens his eyes like plates — “Crying?! ____ was crying!?”

Usopp— Nod —

Sanji— “I need to go see-“

Usopp— “Wait, Sanji! Give her some time!”

Sanji— “But… she’s crying…”

Usopp— “I know, but let her have some time.”

Sanji— He sighs but he only nods —

Usopp— “What did you said to her to make her cry?”

Sanji— “I didn’t said anything! I swear! I just… I guess I was talking dry to her…”

Usopp— “You were talking dry to her, huh? Why is that? Do you not like her? Because you always flirt with every woman, but I noticed that you haven’t been flirting with ____…”

Sanji— “Well, yeah. But that’s because I can’t help but be nervous around her, it’s not only lust, it’s also romantic feelings, I love her Usopp. But I feel like my heart is going to pop out of my chest when I feel her presence…”

Usopp— “Oh, so you like her, wow. I never knew Mr. Pervert could be nervous around a woman.”

Sanji— He sighs — “I know, I know.”

Usopp— “Look Sanji, ____ likes you b-“

Sanji— A little bit of blood comes out of his nose — “SHE LIKES ME?!”

Usopp— “Shut up! Calm yourself down! Yes she likes you, and I’ll give you some advice, Sanji. So listen carefully.”

Sanji— nod —

Usopp— “You have to stop flirting with every woman you see, dude! Because every time you flirt with a woman I see how sad she gets, so that’s a habit you have to stop, you have to be loyal to ____!”

Sanji— “Humm…”

Usopp— “Also you have to stop getting so nervous with her, look what your nervousness caused! I get why you’re feeling this way but that’s something you really have to work on if you don’t want to hurt her feelings anymore.”

Sanji— “I know, Usopp. I hate that about me…”

Usopp— He puts a hand on his shoulder — “Hey, now! Don’t get gloomy, our next destination will be really soon, how about you buy her some flowers and tell her how you feel about her?”

Sanji— He smiles — “That’s a great idea! Thank you Usopp!”

Usopp— “Anytime! Just don’t try to get nervous around her and talk to her normally, remember the things I told you okay?” — He walks out of the kitchen —

Sanji— He nods happily and goes back to cooking, perhaps he’ll prepare a delicious drink for Usopp to show his appreciation —

==================================

Maybe I’ll make a part 2 with them confessing their feelings for you! Let me know if you want me to do this with other characters! :)

#one piece fluff #one piece #monster trio #monkey d. luffy #vinsmoke sanji #roronoa zoro #one piece x reader #cat burglar nami #nico robin #usopp #fanfic

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nkogneatho · 10 months

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𝐘𝐎𝐔 𝐀𝐑𝐄 𝐖𝐇𝐀𝐓 𝐓𝐇𝐄𝐘 𝐂𝐀𝐋𝐋 𝐀𝐑𝐓

—a/n: a fluff piece with toji. self-inserted because i think about him way too much.

"Toji," you cooed in your sweet voice, grabbing the attention of not only the man you were looking for but a handful of other people in the painting section.

"Yes, my love?" He excused himself from the painting he was eyeing. He was wearing a black trenchcoat, underneath a coffee dark shirt. He had black leather gloves because you asked him to wear it as they completed the look. He isn't the one to care about fashion much, but it's nice to have someone like you to remind him he has potential to look like he's straight out of a vogue magazine.

"Shouldn't you be here too? You're older than the museum probably," you tease him.

"How long have you been waiting to crack that one?" His voice was monotonous.

"The day we started dating." He nodded at your patience. "Now, let's go over there, please."

"Baby, they have nothing interesting in that section. See? Not even a single person there."

"But I wanna see. please? please? I promise we'll be quick." It's not like he didn't want to go, it just felt useless. The room was practically empty. Nothing but a glimpse of a statue lurking that no one was interested in. But since it caught your eye, he probably was curious too, now.

"Okay," he replied. You grabbed his hand, layered in a glove drenched in cold, but you were too excited to care. You dragged him in the room, and your eyes fell on the statue—well...fell in love with the statue. It was a beautiful sculpture of two lovers embracing each other in a beautiful way.

"Oh my god," you were so in awe.

"See? It's just another couple statue," Toji claimed.

"No. It's different. Look how he is gently holding her, like he wants to protect her from every bad thing." Toji chuckled to himself after realizing you might've just described him.

"And the way her hands are reaching for his hair, trying to pull him in so that he is bathed in her love and never leaves. And...and the way he is looking at her which such fondness...like she's something he cherishes so much. Like she's everything he's ever wanted."

The room went silent after you finished your last sentence. Your eyes turned to the side to find Toji staring at you. Surprisingly, with the same expression you were just now describing.

"Toji?"

"You are so cute," he complimented.

"What has gotten into you all of a sudden?" He did shower you with compliments everyday but calling you cute was rare. And it always came after a long gaze.

"Nothing. I just realized this might be us." He walked closer. "Beacause you are everything I ever wanted." His hands started caressing your face. "I wanted these beautiful eyes to search for just me. I want these lips to kiss just me. I want these hands to hold mine."

"Toji—"

"You are what they call art, my love. And if you'd let me, I'll spend my whole life admiring you. Just you."

You pulled him in a kiss because there's no way after hearing one of the most poetic things, you were just going to stand there. He breathed into the kiss, like he was holding them for too long.

"Dammit, baby. Stop making me cry in public," you held his cheeks in your palm.

"Hmm." He let out a small chuckle. "Let's go home. I'll cook your favorite tonight."

#toji x reader #toji fushigro x reader #toji fluff #toji fushiguro #jjk fluff #jjk x reader #jujutsu kaisen fluff #jujutsu kaisen x reader #jjk drabbles

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deadsetobsessions · 6 months

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Batfam as characters in one of those manhwas if they each got killed and transmigrated (by themselves, there is no shipping in this post):

Alfred

The Head Butler

The hidden veteran

The grandfather with a lot of money

Bruce Wayne

Tired Dad of the Villainess (bc let’s be real he’s got a pretty decent track record of making sure his kids don’t turn into outright war criminals)

Father of the male lead

Maybe the cold northern duke but this man would not be falling in love with anyone tbh

Dick Grayson

Male lead frfr

The villainess

Older brother of the villainess (he’s damn versatile)

Tragic second lead is also a good contender but only

Knight Captain of the empire or whatever but only bc Dick was a cop once

Wise mentor/friend (who’s probably an immortal)

Crown prince in disguise

Barbara Gordon

Master of the magic tower

Merchant guild leader

Spy network owner

King maker

Shadow ruler

A crown Princess, but only bc Barbara Gordon’s letting whoever the king/queen is remain in charge so she doesn’t have to deal with the annoying courtiers

Cassandra Cain

The OG female lead

The OP SAINTESS (the good ones)

THE LOVE INTEREST (bc I have a major crush on her kickassery)

The villainess’ royal ally/friend bc Cassandra deserves to be treated like royalty dammit

Crown Princess that had to take over the kingdom bc her parents sucked at their job

Aura Master who’s underestimated bc she’s small

Magician of the tower, second in command

Information Broker, maybe

Jason Todd

The villainess (good route OR bad route)

The mercenary king

The dragon slayer

The male lead that’s probably a red flag but he’s hot and totally respectful of the love interest so you just kind of poof the homicide away. What murder?

Crown Prince that raises the education levels of the kingdom

Tim Drake

The villainess. Like. THE villainess. War crimes for the good of the people? Yes.

The villainess that takes over the kingdom and overthrows her shitty king-father

Revolutionary co-leader

Prolly opens coffee franchises to make hella bank

Spy network owner?

That one male lead with the super tragic background but is also like committing crimes to help his kingdom or something

The Sleeping Beauty Prince

Stephanie Brown

CROWN PRINCESS

The villainess that was neglected but turns everyone to her side but the end of the manhwa

Revolutionary Queen

Mercenary Queen

Aura Master/Sword Master

Legendary mage or the tower (Steph would be a menace with magic let’s be real)

Salon Owner

Duke Thomas

The main lead who is seen escaping the palace guards in the first two episodes/chapters

Roguish Crown Prince (full of respect women juice obv.)

Rebellion leader who used to be the king’s trusted knight in shiny armor

Mercenary King

Damian Wayne

Sword master, genius prince of the kingdom

Beast tamer

Dragon warrior (let’s be real, Damian would lose it over having an actual dragons)

Serious Crown Prince (with kennels of “hunting dogs” that we all know is there for him to cuddle)

Cold Northern Duke but he’s cold frfr bc his family isn’t with him

Former assassin turned Duke of the east or something

The famous painter

Alternatively, they all say “fuck it, I don’t fuck with monarchies” and start a revolution.

I wrote this pretty late so it might be off lmfao

#Bruce Wayne #Batman #batfamily #dick Grayson #barbara gordon #nightwing #oracle dc #cassandra cain #Black Bat #Stephanie Brown #tim drake #the spoiler #red Robin #duke thomas #red hood #Jason Todd #the signal #damian wayne #Robin

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jujutsukgojo · 16 days

Text

The Baby Project chapter 2

izuku midoriya x reader

Chapter one

Summary: When Kaibara gets increasingly worse, a hero comes in the nick of time.

tw: dead beats, assault, mention of Mineta's crimes,

You wipe the booths for the next customers. Heading back behind the counter, you ask your tables if anyone needs anything. It’s the same old thing you’ve come to love. Children are coloring in their coloring pages and are waiting for their juice boxes while their parents order grilled cheese. The kids write ‘secret’ messages to you about them getting sweets. An indecisive couple who finally settle on the most basic things then call you back to change it.

The restaurant has been up for ages and has regulars that have been the nicest people to you. So many debates on whose cooking is better. You, Yona, who’s your boss, or Ken’s, the cook. All for the sake of laughs and gentle teasing. They have the faces that tell a story you want to hear and senses of humor that vary more than snowflakes.

Plucking the fresh, hot pot of coffee from the machine, you head over to your playful regulars. A group of older men who have taken a liking to you and have acted like grandpas. They are a highly playful bunch who make you smile every day. “Here we are boys.”

“Ah, (Y/n), looking rather dashing today.” Ren puts his head on his hands. He's a man with laugh lines and salt and pepper hair. Ren has been a regular at the restaurant for years who always orders apple pie with cheddar cheese on the side with whip cream, day or night, breakfast, lunch, or dinner whenever he’s around.

“In the same old uniform that you saw me in yesterday. Seriously?”

“Can’t I compliment you?”

“Yeah, when it doesn’t come with asking if you can get the meal for free.”

He sighs. “Dammit.”

Yona calls you to her. Her dyed red hair is easy to spot. She sucks on her lips and eyes you nervously. You quickly rush to her, not liking the look on her aging face. “Yeah?”

She extends her hands to you. “Someone left this for you. It was given to Ken when he went out to take out the trash.”

You gasp and drop the pot of coffee, its glass and hot liquid spreading on the floor. Some of the liquid touches your shoes and the heat makes contact with your feet. Even then you barely register it. The noise gathers the attention of the patrons and Ken, who comes out of the kitchen. Your eyes start to mist when you see Noa without a blanket or his diaper bag. His feet are cold and he’s shivering.

________________________

You sniffle as you pat him. It’s after hours and the only ones in here are those who work late and are finishing their meals. When you saw Noa, you immediately freaked out. The customers were quick to see if you were alright, but Yona made you go somewhere else to process everything.

Throughout the entire restaurant, Noa’s cries were heard. You have been in the kitchen with Ken and even in Yona’s office to get the noise away from the customers. Nothing worked until he was warmed up.

“Just breathe, kid. Ken knows of your assignment. He was gentle like it was real.” You kiss Noa’s soft head, his chubby newborn face is now free of stress and his mouth no longer lets out a shrill wail.

With a gruff voice Ken calls out from the kitchen. “I thought it was real. Look at it.”

“I can’t believe this. I just wanted him to help. Classes are over. He isn’t doing anything. How could he be this way?” Noa coos and tries to breastfeed and starts to give out whimpers every time he fails. Yona gives you the bottle that was left with Ken. “The packaging threw me off but I figured it out.”

You go to feed Noa. He’s been terrible at taking it since the project started. Finally after some coaxing, he latches on. “He’s doing it!” He’s only been fed like, 5 or 6 times by you. You just hope Kaibara managed to get something in.

“Thank you.” You sniffle. “Other than this, why are you crying? Noa’s fine.” She tickles his feet. He jolts his leg from the sensation, not once removing the nipple from his mouth as he hungrily sucks on the milk.

“U.A. doesn’t allow students to work unless they’re in the hero course. I get a stipend but that’s less than others since I’m on a scholarship. It’s weird but true. So, I took this job to help me out. I had to ask him to help me get things so I wouldn’t borrow from my friends.”

Yona wipes your nose. She’s always been motherly to you; sometimes overwhelmingly so. “Now he knows. He’s the one who had to pay for some of his things and was mad about it,” You look up at the older woman who is listening intently. “Yona, what if he doesn’t understand my situation?”

You didn’t come from diamonds and gold. You don’t have the funds to go to this fancy school or have parental help. Plus, U.A. just now started the stipend thing and you have a cut. This project is terribly expensive, and the stipend can’t cover it at all. It barely takes care of you.

You make sure to place him directly on your chest to be as comforting as possible. The position mimics breastfeeding which is a little awkward for you but worth it since he calms down after.

“The hero course gets paid from their internships and stuff. He has more than me, so I didn’t think he’d mind. Plus, we’re partners in this.” You remove the bottle from the little baby’s mouth.

“It wasn’t crazy stuff either. Just diapers from Mei Hatsume-”

“The inventor, right?”

“Yeah, her. It was a pacifier and clothes, stuff like that. The only reason he went to the store with me is because Tetsutetsu embarrassed him or something.”

“Real Steel?” You nod. “Kaibara gave me like, twenty bucks maybe? I’m happy he did something but it didn’t really help. I took most of the bill and I still couldn’t get all the things Noa needs. Toss me a towel, please.”

You place it on your shoulder and hope for the best. Noa burps and throws up a little. This is the first time Noa has burped perfectly with you. Usually, you have the hardest time doing it. As you try to hold him better, his weight gets heavier.

Your eyebrows raise. “Already?”

“What’s happening, baby?” You quickly cradle him for them to see. “He’s growing! He was a newborn now look!”

You unbutton his onesie so he can have room to grow. His belly tells his age. “Four months?”

What did you or Kaibara do to get to four months already? Noa’s face no longer looks like an old man but an actual baby where his features begin to be more identifiable.

“Good job, pepper!” Ken comes out of the kitchen and puts out his cigarette, not wanting it to be around Noa and hinder your progress. You breathily laugh, smiling down at Noa. He looks more aware now and he still favors you in the looks department.

“He needs some more-”

“Say no more. I still have my girl’s baby clothes. A few onesies, shirts and pants, maybe? I’ll check but I know I have some. Maybe my boy’s, too.” Ken rubs your head with his meaty hand. As strange as he is, a grumpy middle aged guy who needs a haircut and to stop hitting the gym so much, he’s sweet. Rough around the edges but the sweetest man you’ve ever had the pleasure knowing.

Yona kisses Noa’s chubby feet. He wiggles his toes. “And I still have my kid’s bassinet. It’s old school but sturdy.”

You thank them both then pause.

“What happens at four months?” You look to the adults who have kids of their own. “Hell if I know. I was in jail.”

“Ken, not now.”

“He should be-” Then Noa screams. You look him over, not finding anything. You then undo his diaper to see if he's wet and see a horrible rash. “What?!”

On him was a regular pamper. Kaibara put a regular U.A. diaper on him and didn’t even do it right. “No, no! Crap! Did he give you the diaper bag?”

“Just the baby and a bottle, pepper. And the bottle was empty. I don't know why he was carrying it like that. I was locked up and I know bett-”

"Ken, please. No prison stories."

You take it off of him before it gets worse. You don’t know why he decided to do this. You told him not to, right? It wasn’t like you chose it. Noa just happened to have needed them. Just like Ema’s baby can’t be around anything that’s not cotton or the baby will get a rash. Or Benio’s daughter throwing up the school’s formula and having to go to get a special formula from them that cost more.

The babies are extremely diverse, just like real ones.

“Alright, alright.” Yona takes Noa to the kitchen and bounces him as she goes. Ken rubs your back again. “Do you want me to talk to him?”

Maybe.

“No. I have to.” You rub your forehead. “I don’t know what to do though. He hates me for some reason. It all started when I said no to the name Sen.”

You groan. “And he knows that I work. What if he uses it as black mail? I won’t be able to afford anything!”

“This is based on real life, right?” You nod. “If he does anything, get him for child support. He’s taking your income thus away from the child. Your stipend can’t cover you both and he’s an absent parent. Let the school handle him.”

You take in his words. The stipend can barely help you. No way would it be able to handle a growing baby.

“That’s too serious. This isn’t that bad, right?” Ken sighs and sits next to you. “Yeah, it’s an assignment. Just a project that’ll end sometime soon. But he isn’t helping. Rather than watch him for a couple of hours, he hands him over in a back alley to a strange man,” He gestures to himself.

“Well not strange-” He corrects.

“Eh…”

“Little one, I swear to God,” You laugh and wipe your eyes. Talking to these two have helped dry up some of your tears. “Listen, if he doesn’t start properly helping you, if he snitches and it affects Noa, then yeah. It's not permanent or anything. Just until the project ends and who knows? Maybe U.A. will let you work because without it, it'll take away from Noa."

“I don’t think it’s a thing here, though.”

“Not in this country, really. That doesn’t mean it isn’t a thing at that fancy school of yours. Force them. It's either that, or they let you work since they're being cheap towards you.”

You catch a ride from Yona as Ken closes up. You have to hurry back before curfew. Before she speeds to your school, she takes a detour to her modest home. With so little time left, you can only grab a few things with Yona promising you more tomorrow. You want to kiss her when you see all of the items she’s giving you. They’re old but completely welcomed.

Back in the car with Noa in your arms grabbing your finger, Yona breaks the silence.

“Take Ken’s advice. If the butthead holds this against you when you talk to him, you have to do something. This isn’t just affecting you. His pettiness is going to hurt Noa, too.”

“You talk like he’s real.” You whisper as you pass the streetlights that just came on. It means curfew is about to start. Luckily, you were quick to change into your U.A. uniform. Hopefully, you walking in like normal will work.

“Noa would fool even All Might. All that thing is missing is a legitimate soul, and that’s it. His heart beats, honeycomb.” She watches how you interact with him. Even if you don’t realize it, you are treating him as if he’s real.

"Yona...that's too serious. Like, that's grown up stuff. I don't think this situation calls for it."

"It's something to consider."

You scratch your cheek. "I don't know that's awfully...dramatic? He's just a grade." Yona scoffs and rolls her eyes. "It's not just about financial provision. It's about co-parenting which he isn't doing and what U.A. is trying to teach him to do," She sighs and looks at you then back at the road. "Look, if you won't do that, then go to your teachers. It's not snitching when it affects your grade like this."

"He'll tell!"

Yona's silent. She hears how desperate and sad you sound. "Even if he does, it's not like you're doing the worst thing in the world. Talk to him. Tell him if he doesn't shape up, then you'll go to the teachers. If they give you flack, give it right back."

Yona pulls up to the dorms. “Alrighty, we’re here.” Your hands start to tremble. You’re not scared of Kaibara. It is the possibilities that get you. “Breathe honey, he’s just being an ass. Besides, he may not do anything. He could be perfectly reasonable if he asks.”

“My scholarship could end, Yona.” The school doesn’t allow anyone to work except for the hero courses. The scholarship would end. Would you lose them too?

“Argue it. It’s what you do best. You may not like heroes or can fight like them, but in a war of words and law you’d beat all of them with your mouth taped shut. Defend yourself in your territory.”

You take a deep breath. “I will.”

She grabs your arm. "He gave a child to some random man in an alley. What if Noa was real?"

______________________

Yona loads the bags into your arms and places Noa in the wheeled bassinet. It is old, white laced and not the cleanest. The wheels are large and the fabric that drapes the bottom half is surprisingly soft. Although it is not disinfected right now it’ll have to do until you can get inside and clean everything. You give Yona a kiss on the cheek, thanking her for everything.

“You act like helping you is a chore. It’s okay, the sweetest honeycomb.” For some reason, that hits you in the gut.

When Yona leaves, you repeatedly kick the door so someone can open it. A kid from the other General Studies class opens the door. They must be visiting because the other class lives on the other side of the building.

You enter your room and head to the bathroom for a bath. After today, it is definitely needed. That and Yona’s gifts need to be scrubbed too. They’ve been boxed away and preserved in an attic.

You give Noa his sponge bath first. It was easy enough. He only screamed bloody murder the entire time other than that it was cake. You dry him off and set him on pillows so he could be propped up while you bathe. The curtain is open so you can keep your eye on him.

“I’m coming, sweetheart! Just one minute, please- shit!” Shampoo got directly into your eye. Noa cries louder, showing all of his gums and his little fists are clenched to his chest. You hurriedly try to rinse your eyes and grab Noa.

You suck at this. So, so, much.

You begin to get cold but you push that all aside in order to get him to be quiet. His wailing is loud in your ears. Finally, you decide to wash with him even though he’s already bathed. His head lays on your chest, resulting in the tears to be sniffles.

“You just wanted some lovin’, huh? That’s okay, bub.” It’s not at all. Who is to say he won’t understand you and start all over again?

After the much needed shower, Ema comes in to see you in your robe and drying Noa off. “Do you hav-what’s that?” She lifts his leg, the red and rough rash is visible even on his outer upper thigh.

“Before you blame me, it was Kaibara. He put one on him.” You gently massage his skin and make a mental note to go to Hatsume about it. You shrug your shoulders. “I don’t know why he put the regular ones on him.”

“Did you tell him?”

“Yeah, I did. Or I think so? I don’t know. I’m exhausted.”

She puts her hand on her hip. “If Eijirou was ever that lazy, I’d smack him.”

“I think it weirds him out. All of it, you know?” She sits on your bed next to Noa. “That’s stupid. He deals with blood and gore everyday yet he can’t handle changing a baby in the right diapers? Ridiculous and lazy.”

Feeling the heat of anger rise up, you tell her, “Plus, he kept the diaper bag. So I’ll have to use a backpack.”

“He kept it? Did he at least give you some of the things in there?”

“Nope.” You’re not going to tell her the full thing lest your secret be found. She scoffs and throws her hands in the air. It’s nice to vent. “Stupid, lazy, and petty.”

“Amen.” Speaking of prayers. “Did they handle that grape thing yet? How’s Riko anyway? I haven’t seen her.”

Ema licks her lips. “Not good. The messages that Benio read were just the tip of the iceberg apparently. He sent dick pics, way more than innuendos, borderline if not outright, threats. It’s just a mess. I only saw a few of them but I totally see why she felt threatened.”

You pause, taking in the information of what your friend went through. “You serious? A future hero?”

She hums and nods. “Yep. Word is that he’ll be expelled since everything has just accumulated to this. It’s like this is the final straw type of thing.”

“Should’ve gotten rid of him sooner.” You nibble on Noa's chubby feet, making him giggle. It's way better than him wailing.

“Definitely. Anyway, Snipe said there weren’t any more people so she could take a test or raise the baby herself. She chose to quit and take a test. Said the project was ruined for her.”

“If that is the best decision for her health, I say let it be.” How bad was it? Benio was pissed when he read them and that didn’t cover much. So, what exactly did the grape thing do? How bad were these threats? Your heart aches for Riko and what she’s going through. It isn’t fair.

“It’s a good thing you and Benio pushed it. This needed to be brought out. If he becomes a pro hero, the people he saves will be in jeopardy.” She messes with the edge of her nighttime shorts.

“Absolutely. He’s a bona fide predator. Yes, he fought in the wars. Yes, he helped save the world,” You count on your fingers. “That doesn’t give an excuse for assault or harassment.”

She fiddles with your quilt blanket. “I feel bad, peaches.”

“Why?” Noa flexes his fingers in awe. You wonder if his four month phase is already ending and he’s growing again. The growing process seems to be random. “Because I should’ve realized sooner. She was being paired with him. It was bound to happen. He’s the biggest pervert in the school. I should’ve gone with you guys and supported her.”

“You were raising your kid at a different table. No one blames you. We just happened to be there. This isn’t on us, it’s on that thing. ”

"I know. But her face when I saw her is gonna stick with me. I want to do something but what?" She licks her lips again and shakes her head. The subject changes as she focuses on his features. “He looks like you. Even his hair, see?” You chuckle and nod in agreement.

“Yeah. I think that bothers him too.”

“So fucking lame.” Amen, again. “Wait, he’s bigger…he grew! Oh, I’m so proud of you!” She kisses your head. You raise your brow at her affection. “It says he’s four months but I think he’s growing again.”

You massage his face. “Maybe Mei is speeding up the growth.”

Her eyes roam around your room and stop at your little basket of his things.

“Oh Lord. What’d you need?” She hums. “I wanted to see if you had any diapers to spare? Eijrou heard about it and wants to try.”

“Eijrou… he lets you call him by his first name?” She nods. “Yeah, we share a baby so there’s no reason to call each other formally. Besides, we get along really well.” It's not Ema's fault at all. Not the smallest bit. But it stings when it shouldn't. It is the partnership they have and you can't get it despite your efforts. You practically see the gold medal on her neck right now that shows she isn't failing. Could a start of a positive partnership be as simple as using his first name? The next time you see him, you'll give it a try.

“Ooh, I’m telling Deku.” You finish all the steps of the diaper and put a simple shirt on him, opting out pants. You get up and go through your stash of them and hand some to her.

“I think I’ve moved on, actually.” You gasp loudly, holding your hand to your chest. “The biggest Deku groupie left the club?”

“Oh, shut up. I let go. There are things he’s happier with and I realized I’m happy too. There’s no reason to chase something when going in a different direction.” She has a slight blush on her face yet if you look closer, has a forlorn look. That blushy face is a dead giveaway for something else, though.“Wait…you and-”

“Don’t say it!”

“Ema and Eijrou sitting in a tree, K-I-S-S-I-” She flings a pillow in your face, making Noa giggle. His dimpled face makes you smile wider. He’s got to be more than four months old now. How? You don’t know what you’re doing right. So, you’re happy about it.

That and knowing she likes Kirishima, the ideal baby daddy. "I'm just fond of him, okay? It's early, so it might, I don't know, be the project?"

You nod, not bothering to hide your smile. Seeing them in the cafeteria was so sweet and domestic. It was something you could see for Ema. Something sweet, gentle, and kind. It's what you hope for her. Maybe Kirishima is the one who can provide that. They get along so well already and work together flawlessly. You become downcast as you think of all of the positives for her and Kirishima. Their teamwork.

You take a deep breath and stretch. After, you look around and slump your shoulders. “Shit, he has the bag. Can I borrow some formula? All I had was in that bag.” You look at Ema’s naturally glittery face. The glitter is used for freckles rather than the actual prints. You've asked her if it had to do with her quirk and surprisingly enough, it's just hereditary and not quirk related.

“I’ll pay you back I swear.” You put as much sincerity in your voice as you can. The dorms are locked so you can’t get to Kaibara and Noa’s going to have to feed soon.

Ema’s luminescent eyes look you over. She purses her lips then breaks into a playful smile. “I’ll accept it as a trade for the diaper.”

You don’t know how this is working, and you know in real life, there wouldn’t be this much support. Growing up you didn’t see half of this. Yet in such a short amount of time, the people around you made you feel safe and supported. You pray that one day you can pay them back. This whole thing is just an assignment. Nevertheless, this shows you the rare kindness of mankind. What a nice day this is.

_______________

A few days later, you struggle to catch Kaibara. He’s actively avoiding you. Whenever you see him, he has the diaper bag and side eyes you. It’s nerve wracking and it’s pissing you off. There are things in there that you desperately need.

You’ve managed to get some of the formula on your own. Noa is still at an awkward stage that his timer is set at four months but his development says different. You have to go to Hatsume to check on him.

In the morning, you put him in the wrap. You pack some of his things in an old, raggedy, backpack as a makeshift diaper bag. The actual baby bag is a lot better with more room, compartments and it’s absolutely sturdier.

You take your notebook and write down the things he needs and on another page, a schedule that fits you. It’s a rough draft but with his schedule, the two of you should be able to compromise and come up with a plan. You’ve written down your number and where to find your room as well. The page even includes your friends’ numbers if he can’t get a hold of you. You pray that he can do the same and that there is an agreement on the plan.

“Alright baby boy, let’s roll.” You see Ema and her baby girl, Hana. You poke her pink cheek. “Hey, little one.”

“Ugh, don’t even.” Ema turns and walks. “What? What’d I do?”

“It’s not you, it’s her. She’s been so fucking ornery. All night she was screaming. I’m surprised you didn’t hear it.”

You really didn’t. You and Noa slept soundly. “I didn’t hear anything.”

“Lucky. It’s my night to keep her and this happens.”

“She’s a newborn, right? It’s bound to happen.” Ema shakes her head. “Nope, she’s eight months old.”

“Eight months…” You suddenly feel insecure of Noa or at least your parenting. He must be in the process of growing since he’s doing more than a four month old should yet he’s still behind. Ema’s a natural at this, though. She’s doing something better. That gold medal is shining in your eyes brighter than before. You shouldn't feel this way. Ema wouldn't rub anything in your face.

“Yep! Eijrou and I make a great team. I can’t wait to tell him. And show the set of lungs his daughter has.” She looks at you evilly.

Exiting the general studies’ commons, Ema looks around for Benio but doesn’t see him. “He could already be inside fuming like usual. The ponytail girl has been ticking him off.”

“I still don’t understand. She’s a sweet person. What’s going wrong?” Ema asks.

“If you haven’t noticed, it’s the general studies’ students that are getting stuck solely raising the babies.”

“I’m not!”

You kick a pebble that was in the way on the sidewalk. “No, but you’ve got a good one. The rest of us are struggling.”

She kisses Hana’s head. “Do you want me to tell Ei? I’m sure he can talk some sense into Kaibara.”

You’d love that.

“No. If he’s anything like Tetsutetsu, it won’t get through to him. Tetsu’s already tried.”

“Seriously?” You hold the door open for her. “Yep. I went to Kaibara’s dorm and when Tetsutetsu found out he isn’t helping, he yelled at him.”

Ema puts her hand on her hips. “I can’t believe this. You should go to a teacher. This is a partnered assignment.”

“I’ll give him some more time but if this continues, I’ll go.” It has been a little over a week already.

____________________________

You’re insecure of your plan. Yona and Ken advised it. Even though it makes sense, it feels so drastic and serious to go that far. Plus, going to the teachers feels like snitching. You’re ticked that he’s not helping and scared that he’ll tell on you. It’s like he’s got all of the cards.

You wave Ema goodbye when you spot Kaibara. “Oh, Kaibara!” You wave your hand at him. He taps his foot and has a gleam in his eyes that doesn’t seem friendly. “How’s the formula? You have it in the bag.”

“It’s okay.”

“Okay?”

“Yep.” The two of you talk at the side of the hallway. “I mean, is it running low? Because I also need some for when I take care of him.”

He chuckles. “How long have you been working?” Your heart stops. “Kaibara…”

“No, because I gave you enough-”

“It was 20.” He glares at you. “Still, I gave you money when you didn’t need it. You stole.”

You can feel people watching as they go by. The tension between the two of you is getting higher. “I didn’t steal. This project involves the both of us. You act like I make a ton when I don’t. I work only for a few hours a week.”

He slowly gets closer to you. He roughly hands you the diaper bag. “You make enough. Don’t ask fo-what is he wearing?”

Noa wears a pink shirt with purple designs on it paired with grey leggings. He has thick white socks on his feet. “Clothes?”

The shirt is from Yona and the grey leggings from Ken. The outfit looks very cute on him. Simple and easy.

“Get that off of him.” His tone is steel and sharp. It makes you tense up for a second.

You raise a brow, genuinely confused. “What?”

“This is embarrassing. With the money you make you can’t put him in some good clothes?” You look down at Noa whose clothes are fine. “What’re you talking about?”

“You did this on purpose.” He curses at you under his breath. A General Studies student walks past then stops and stares. They make eye contact with you. Their purple eyes wondering, asking, if you need help. The student takes off down the hallway.

You then remember that Ema uses Kirishima's first name to build a better bond. “It’s only clothes, Sen.”

He curses again and roughly handles Noa, trying to take his shirt off. Noa begins to cry. You tell him to stop and get Noa away from him. Kaibara grabs your wrist painfully, making you yelp. You try to tug it free and protect Noa from having his clothes removed at the same time.

Just then, a scarred hand intervenes and grabs Kaibara’s wrist. Your partner looks shocked and then up at the owner. He’s, uh, a lot bigger than you thought he’d be. And his voice definitely sounds different in person.

The man himself, Izuku Midoriya, aka Deku. His hands are large and his fingers slightly crooked. The scars and calluses tell stories of war and determination. His eyes are bright, like they're happy but his actions say different.

Izuku says hello to his old friend while holding Kaibara's wrist tightly. You take this pause to grab Noa properly and readjust his clothing. This is all so fucking stupid. It’s like getting your group to help you do an assignment but they’re all fucking around. Fuck this, you’re putting your name on the paper and explaining to the teachers what happened.

“I’m sick of being nice to your dumb ass.” You tell Kaibara, who for the first time doesn’t look smug or annoyed. He looks…scared? In a gentle yet firm voice, Izuku Midoriya says, “Come on, let’s go.”

His hand is placed on your waist to guide you away from Kaibara. He takes you away from his year hallway and towards the stairs.

“U-uh, I hope that was alright!” He rubs his hands together. “Yeah, it’s alright.”

You expect him to walk away from you now that you’ve reached the stairs to go down to yours. Instead, he stays with you. “Thanks, by the way. I didn’t think he’d act like that.”

“It’s not a problem. He was out of line.” He smiles down at you and Noa. “Is that the first time he’s done that?”

His hero voice is on. “You mean being rough? Yeah. Blowing me and this whole project off? No.” You shrug and try to act unbothered. But your wrist hurts and Noa is squirming. “I accept it now and what I have to do.”

“What do you mean?” The two of you begin to walk down. “I’m going to the teachers about it. The assignment’s just started and this is happening.” You are down the stairs and into your hallway. Only a few students are left, scrambling to find their class and handle their babies at the same time.

Izuku’s eyes take everything in. You hope that he’s piecing everything together. That your class are the ones doing anything.

“I’ll go with you.” You stop. “You don’t have to, Izuku.” He was about to speak until you said his name. He gets all red and covers his face and sputters. “Was it okay to call you by your first name?”

“Y-yes!” And just like that, this guy resorted to being a red sweaty thing that's lightly tugging on his thick curls. Well, it is a little warm in the building. The bell rings for everyone to be in class. You curse under your breath when Noa begins to fuss. “Hold this.” You shove the bag into Izuku's hands. “What do you need? I can help!”

“He feels dry and he ate, give me a bo-bo.” Izuku eagerly looks into the bag. He stops. “A what?” Ah, right. “A pacifier.”

“Oh, okay. That's cute, by the way."

"I'll tell Ema about the compliment," He stares into your eyes. You gesture to the bag. "Right! What compartment is it in?”

“The front flap,” He digs into the yellow one. “No, the blue. That’s where I put it.” He searches for it and frowns. “Are you sure? There’s nothing here or the yellow one.”

“Try the main one, the big zipper.” Dread is filling deep in your belly. In those flaps were his pacifier, rattle, things to that nature. Now that you look at it, it’s a little flat.

“I can’t find it.” Noa cries louder by the second. “Keep looking!” Izuku’s hand is inside the bag. You hear rustling of some things. “It’s not in here-”

“Are you kidding?! Keep looking!” You rock Noa, who is increasingly getting louder. You don’t mean to yell at Izuku. He didn’t do anything wrong. He has been more helpful and less violent than Kaibara has been.

He puts his hand on your shoulder. “Breathe, just breathe,” You follow his calm directions. “Here, give him to me.” You trade the baby for the bag. He coos at the assignment and rocks him. The little brat starts to calm down. Izuku talks softly to Noa, asking how his day has been, and that he has to be good for mommy, all of the sweet things you'd expect.

“Where is it? Where-” It really isn’t here. You suck in your lips. All that’s in there are some clothes, diapers, and formula in a Ziploc sandwich bag for some reason. And there isn’t even enough for one bottle.

Snipe slides the door open. “I thought I heard you-Oh, Midoriya! Long time no see.” Izuku goes on about Snipe’s latest take down. According to him, it was excellent. “Well, I’m glad to see you back. I thought you had a while to go?”

“I finished early. Go beyond, plus ultra?” He nervously chuckles. Snipe stares at him for a second. “Plus ultra, Midoriya.”

He then turns to you. “What is Midoriya doing with Noa?” What a dramatic tone difference.

“Snipe, I’d like to talk to you and Dracula after class.” Snipe scoffs. “Do you mean Vlad King?”

“King Vladimir? Isn't that Dracula?”

Snipe rubs his face under his mask. “Whatever.”

_____________________________

After class, you meet up with the two teachers, Snipe and Dracula who is now known as Vlad King. As if they aren’t the same name. You asked Midoriya if he could watch Noa for a minute which he gladly accepted, then reminded you to call if you needed him. Unlike Kaibara, he immediately gave you his number. Red faced and all. He looked like he was having a heart attack while doing it.

“Snipe, Dracula-”

“ Vlad King.” The man in red grumbles. “Whatever. I know this is based on real life but Kaibara did something that bothers me.”

Snipe sighs and sits on the edge of his desk. “This is up for the two of you to figure out.”

“He got physical with me and Noa. If you don’t believe me, Midoriya is right outside. He saw everything.” Both of the teachers freeze. Dracula clenches his fists. “What happened?”

“Has he done this before?” Snipe sits up, no longer slouching. “This is the first time he’s done this. But not the first time he’s neglected the assignment. At every damn turn he’s blowing me off and complaining. He’s not helping me at all.”

“Start from the top and down to when he was aggressive.” Dracula’s eyes become serious. Not angry at you, though. Thank God.

You tell them everything, leaving out your job. Ken and Yona are brought up, only called friends, and how they’ve helped you. No one is excluded from their rightful praise. Your friends here, the sales lady, even Midoriya who helped you and is doing so right now by handling Noa.

Vlad cracks his knuckle. “I’ll deal with him.”

“Vlad-”

“No. This is unacceptable. I know it’s up to them to figure out but what happened can’t be ignored or tolerated.” His leg is bouncing and fists are clenched impossibly hard. His fangs seem sharper than normal and eyes are blazing. “As a hero, we cannot allow that behavior to continue. A hero from my class? No. Absolutely not!”

“I know-”

“No! He fails-”

“Kan, please! I’m just as upset as you are but we are forgetting to check the facts.” Snipe gestures towards you to calm you down, already noticing how your nostrils flared. “What I’m saying is that we must investigate the situation. If we go in guns blazing, it can cause more harm than good.”

You understand that, but it doesn’t seem like enough.

“I want him to help me and to apologize. I’ve been doing everything while he just jacks around.”

“I understand, (Y/n). This will be handled.” Vlad stands up and Snipe grabs his wrist. “Let’s talk to Midoriya. He’s the only witness?”

“No, some other guy ran to get Midoriya. He’s got purple eyes and since he was taking care of a robo-baby, I can guess that he’s from general studies because I know heroes aren’t doing anything.”

Snipe scolds you. “I’m serious, Snipe. I’ve only seen two heroes with babies and they were Kirishima and Tetsutestu. That’s it.”

Vlad snatches his wrist back and opens the door, startling Izuku who was cooing at Noa and kissing his plump cheek. “After we talk to Kaibara, you will be called, understand?”

Unlike how he was just seconds before, Izuku gets serious and firmly nods. His round green eyes don’t have the cheeriness they had just moments before.

“Do you want me to bring him here?”

“No, I’ll be the one to do it.” Vlad disappears as he goes down the hallway, no doubt looking for his student. Snipe calls your name, gaining your attention. "You need to be here for this. I want you to tell your side of the story for the record then we'll bring Midoriya in." "Mr. Snipe, what if Kaibara gets mad at me?" He jerks and straightens up. "We'll handle him. You are safe, don't worry."

You put your hands on your hips. "This happened right under your noses. Who knows how long he's been like thi-"

"(Y/n), it will be handled. We need to investigate and write a report but trust me," He leans in. "You are safe and it will be handled."

"What about Noa? Are you gonna make sure he helps with Noa?"

Snipe gives a breathy chuckle and starts to slouch a little. He takes his shawl off and places it on his desk. Finally, he is back to being your teacher and not his hero persona. It's amazing how fast these people can switch depending on the atmosphere. "We'll talk to him. Honestly, (Y/n), I wish you would've told me sooner that he wasn't helping."

You let out a loud, "Ha!"

"I'm serious." Shaking your head you humorlessly chuckle. "No, no. You are the same guy who kicked me out of class because of a project that you are making us do started crying. No way you would have my back if it weren't for Dracula looking at you."

He flinches like he's been struck. The door opens again and reveals Dracula, some teachers, and Nezu. Dracula speaks first. "Kaibara will be here shortly. He is cleaning up from his internship."

Nezu pops out of Aizawa's scarf and waves at you. "Please sit down and relax, (L/n). Just tell us what happened."

The two hero course homeroom teachers, Snipe, the principal and a few others, all sit down. You look around and then at your surroundings. "Um, shouldn't we be doing this in your office, Mr. Nezu? And not my homeroom?"

"This is quicker!"

You sigh and then begin. "Today, Kaibara roughly grabbed me and Noa."

"The assignment, correct? Noa Kaibara?"

"Yes. Anyway, I went up to him and asked for the diaper bag-" The door opens again, allowing Kaibara to come in. He loses his smile when he sees you. Again, a hero changes his demeanor at a drop of a hat. As quickly as he looked at you in disdain, he erased that in less than a second with a nonchalant smile to his superiors. His beady eyes find yours and make you squirm. You aren't physically afraid of him. It's what he has on you that makes you flinch.

He stands side by side with you at a distance. Kaibara turns to you and asks, "Where's the baby?"

Pfft, like he cares. "Noa's with Izuku." You side eye him. Nezu clears his throat and says, "Kaibara, (L/n) says you hurt her and almost jeopardized your project. Is this true?"

Kaibara sighs and rubs the back of his neck. He shrugs his shoulders. "Unfortunately, I do know what she's talking about but she is blowing it out of proportion." Aizawa's gruff voice interrupts him before he can continue. "But you did grab her?"

"Yes, yes I did."

You spot Dracula's vein swelling. "And why-"

You raise your hand. "Before you all continue to talk to him, I want to tell it," You shift your weight on your feet. "I put clothes on Noa that Kaibara didn't like so he roughly handled Noa. Noa's wellbeing is our," You shoot Kaibara a glare he couldn't miss. "Grade, so I tried to protect him, but Kaibara turned his aggression on me. He grabbed my wrist-which still hurts by the way-and-" You pause. Should you do this? Is it time?

You then remember how he hurt you and Noa. Noa's cries and him reaching out to you, your fear not just for Noa, but for yourself. Your head is held high now as you let everyone know what Kaibara has done or not done.

"Noa is wearing hand-me-downs that some friends of mine gave me because I can't afford newer clothes. There isn't anything wrong with what he's wearing. A pink shirt and grey leggings. That's it. That's what he had a problem with. That his son is wearing pink."

"Kaibara!" The student begins to get flushed and shrink back at the scolding of the pro heroes in front of him. "Not only that, but he has not helped at all. When this project first started, we went to a baby store next to that old vendor guy, and Kaibara gave me twenty bucks then split because he didn't want to help soothe Noa. He ran because his son started crying."

Cementoss nods. "Well, nerves are normal for parents."

You refrain from a snarky remark. "I know this. But that was the first and only time he's held Noa, and he still didn't help." You should tell them that he abandoned Noa with Ken. However, that'd give him the opening he needs. And by the look on his face that's slowly turning red not from embarrassment, but from anger, he'd snitch out of spite.

You should tell them that he did care for him for a few hours. You can't, though. He's got one over you.

"This morning, he scared and hurt me and Noa. Your star witness out there has held him longer than Kaibara has. My partner as well as the rest of the hero course’s behavior has sunk to this. And it’s happening right under your nose. Let that sink in."

The room is silent, giving you another chance to talk. “Your favorite students aren’t helping. Make them.”

Nezu twiddles his thumbs and looks at you from Aizawa's scarf or rope thing. "We'll handle this. You're dismissed."

__________________________________

You exit the room, not even looking at Kaibara. His eyes were bulging out of their sockets and he was steaming. When you close the door, the air finally returns to you.

Izuku still holds Noa in the hallway. He rocks him and adorably so. He notices you standing there with a smile on your face.

“Are you okay?” His voice is gentle and warm. Filled with worry and compassion. It reminds you of the sweetness of Yona and Ken.

“I’m fine. Alright, it’s your turn.” You point your thumb towards the door. Right before you can get Noa from his arms, he still holds him as he rubs your shoulder and enters the room. “You…you took my baby.”

To yourself, you whisper, “He took my baby.”

You look around the hallway to see if it's clear. When you see that it is, you finally cover your eyes and let a small tear fall. Is it because of Noa and the weight? What Kaibara did and the power he has? Maybe it's because you had to be saved by Deku, a hero. Or is it because you failed at doing something so basic: getting along with someone. Noa's not real, he isn't. But it hurts that he is rejected. Why?! He's a doll. One that breathes, has a heartbeat, and your face. Are these tears from exhaustion?

Why are you crying silently in the hallway? This is just a grade. That has to be it. You're afraid you'll fail and lose your scholarship, and all of your hard work will go down the drain. You're afraid of being found out, that's all. Not because you can't get help from the person who is supposed to help you. Not because you feel like you are behind and everyone else is passing you. Not that your wrist still hurts. That reminds you, you have to go to Recovery Girl for it. And since she's not too far from Hatsume, you'll swing by and pick up some things.

Kaibara is in there. Would he get it or has this damaged everything? You take a deep breath. When Izuku comes out, you'll grab Noa and go to where you need to be. You hear the door open and a curious voice calls to you. You can hear Noa's senseless babbling behind you, too. What to say? What do you say about why you look like you’ve been crying?

You will do what you know. You turn around and see Izuku hold a happy Noa. "U-uh, are you crying? What's wrong? Is it your wrist?" Izuku comes towards you. You roll your eyes and say, "No, I have allergies."

Izuku looks behind you and doesn't see a window open.

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