#jjba part 5 fic

[gingernut1314]

As A Turtle? pt. 3

Polnareff x SDC!Passione!GN!Reader

Summary: The fight against Diavolo wages on and all Polnareff wants to know is if you would still love him?

Warnings: SPOILERS FOR JJBA PART 5 EP. 28-39, Platonic!Risotto x Reader, "would you still love me as a worm" trend, my attempt at French and Italian, pet names/terms of endearment, canon typical violence

Word Count: 1.4K

A/N: I don't think I will EVER find peace....sob 😭

Taglist: @cinnbar-bun

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Strangled, roaring screams tore through your throat as you unleashed your rage and Stand upon Diavolo, who stood before you with an utter look of triumph. 

Polnareff--he had just been there with you. You had made it to the Colosseum--had just gotten him back and--

Blood poured from Polnareff’s mouth as Diavolo delivered a fatal wound to his chest. You hadn’t been close enough to stop it--to get in the way and protect him. Especially now as the all-but-melting Silver Chariot shoved you backward. 

Polnareff--he didn’t move. Didn’t blink or laugh or berate you for being reckless. 

Just--gone. 

Risotto’s death had hurt you deeply. It had nearly killed you but Polnareff--you two had gone through hell and back together and yet there he was--staring at you with nothing behind his gray eyes and you just felt--you felt dead inside. Completely and utterly devoid of anything besides this utter heartbreak and anger. 

You were charging at the man who had hurt Polnareff over and over because you no longer had the will to stay alive. Not without him there by your side. Not without knowing he was somewhere safe and sound. 

Diavolo hardly even blinked an eye as he dodged your attacks, time seeming to skip forward. Hardly seemed to notice you as he punched you off the floor and down toward the main level of the Colosseum. 

Wind whipped around you and an otherworldly exhaustion turned your world black until you were waking up in a body that felt too strange to you. A body that was feathery and all to hawk-shaped for your own liking. 

But even with this new body, you couldn’t think of anything besides Diavolo’s Stand’s arm running through Polnareff’s chest. Couldn’t help but think of it over and over and over again until it started to drive you mad in rage.

You flapped and crawled your new bird body over to the gathered group, all freaking out over this strange swap of bodies. And through their panic, you noticed the turtle you all had been hiding in hours ago crawling around. 

A turtle began to speak to the group in a voice that was too familiar. 

“Tesoro mio?” You questioned when you found your voice, it sounding squawking and feeling all too off on this bird's tongue. “You’re--you’re okay?” The turtle--no Polnareff, looked to you with eyes all too sad for a turtle. Eyes all too human--all too him. 

“I’m--a turtle.” He said, voice sounding all too worried--pinched. 

“But you are alive.” You insisted, a laugh falling from your mouth--or, beak? As you turned to look at the group standing above you. “Giorno.” You said, not sure which was the true Giorno yet. “Fix his body so when we work this out he won’t have a gaping hole in his chest, yes?” 

“I--I don’t know if that’s how this works.” You narrowed your eyes, if you could even narrow them in this body, at Giorno who was in now in Narancia’s body. You felt your anger take rise once more in your chest at his refusal to do as you asked.

“What do you--yes it is. He’s alive and--”

“Mon coeur,” Polnareff stressed, cutting you off. “We do not have time to argue.” 

“It's--it’s not an argument.” You said with a huff of unbelieving air. He wasn’t--he wouldn’t take this child's side on this? “It’s--you get in that body in the state it is now and you’ll di--” Polnareff cut you off with a quick snap of your name. A snap he rarely ever bit at you, but one you found halting your tongue’s movements. 

“We do not have time to go fix my body. We need to get that arrow.” And as he continued to talk and explain the situation, you couldn’t help but feel a deep, gnawing feeling in your chest. An all too bad and foreboding feeling.

You tried to push that feeling down as you focused on the fight and tasks at hand. But as soon as poor Silver Chariot was defeated and you were rocketed back into your body lying in the Colosseum, that feeling only came back to the forefront of your mind strong and unyielding. 

The Colosseum was quiet. Only the faint buzz of the people outside to be heard. 

Bucciarati's beaten and broken and utterly destroyed body lay all too still where he lay on cold stone. 

He had been in Diavolo’s body…he should be back too. He should be waking up just as you had woken up.

But the longer you stared his way, the more he seemed to grow colder, your heart began to tear because--because he had been alive. Had been talking and fighting and--he should be back in his body by now. 

You dragged yourself to your feet, slowly making for the stairs. Towards the floor Polnareff would be waking up on. 

He would be waking up any second now. 

No noise sounded. Nothing. It was just--silent. Silent as the tomb. Silent as death.

“P-Polnareff?” You called, feet beginning to climb the stairs. “Tesoro mio? Baby?” You called again, voice sounding all too weak in your ears.

Nothing answered you just as you knew nothing would. But you pressed on. Pressed on despite the painful ache growing in your chest. 

You found him just as he had been when you were tossed over the edge. Found his gray eyes unblinking and glazed over, looking ahead at nothing. His skin, which had always been so warm to the touch, looked cold and blue. His wound had stopped bleeding but it was a wound no one could ever hope to heal or survive. 

You knelt before him, looking over the face you had loved more then you had loved anything. 

Looked over the face that had made you laugh and smile and cry and believe in love again.

Your fingers moved to smooth over his shirt, which had ridden up in his crumple to the ground. Wiped a bit of blood off his unscarred eyebrow and did your best to fix his hair, which he had taken so much pride in and would have begun crying over if he could see the state it was in now. 

“All better, yes?” You whispered. A whisper that was given no response.

As gently and as best your weakened strength could, you pulled his body into your arms. A body so stiff and all too cold as you cradled his face against your chest. You placed a soft kiss to his forehead and brushed your fingertip in soothing circles over his forearm. 

You didn’t know how long you held him. How long you sat and how long you buried your thoughts and feelings down. Long enough you forgot how to feel and hear and see. 

That is, until a voice called for you. A voice that kick-started your crumbling heart once more. 

Polnareff was still lying all too stiff in your arms. Still too cold and unseeing and yet--

“Mon coeur?” You turned to find that turtle sitting at the top of the stairs. A turtle who a blue-outlined Polnareff sat out of. So small and so transparent but it was him. 

“Mio Caro?” You responded, tears stinging at your eyes as he crawled closer. This was--was this your image playing some wicked game against you? You wanted with all your heart to believe it untrue but…but you still held his body in your arms. A body which was devoid of any and all things that made Polnareff Polnareff.

“I--I need to ask you something.” His voice wavered and as he grew closer, you could see the matching tears brimming in his eyes. 

Real. This was real. 

“You can ask me.” You said on a near sob as he came to a stop before you. 

“Would you…would you still love me as a turtle?” He asked, something like pure fear in his voice. “You said you wouldn’t.” He whispered, a tear streaking down his red, flushed cheeks. Before he could even blink you were grabbing up that scaly turtle and holding him close. Taking in its warmth and its breath and its being alive.

“I lied. I would still love you as a worm or as a frog or as a turtle. I don’t care as long as you are with me.” You felt a warm brush of air caress your cheek and found a small, ghostly hand belonging to the man you loved there. “Let’s leave Italy, yes? Let’s go anywhere but here. Please, amore.” Polnareff nodded, a small pulling to his lips. 

“As long as I’m with you.” He agreed. You gave a shaking breath as you gave a nod of your own. 

“As long as I’m with you.”

<- previously

[orphetoon]

au where giorno is the only stand user in passione

[inkpot909]

Your Relationship Trope (Bucciarati’s Gang)

↳ Gender Neutral Reader. Takes place after the events of Part 5 in a everyone lives!AU.

A/n: It’s been a while! I had to take some time for personal matters, so sorry for my absence. I wrote something just a tad more breezy to help ease myself back into it; I really missed writing. I hope y’all enjoy!

Warning(s): None.

Giorno Giovanna

-> Love at First Sight

This deeply romantic, cheesy, guy.

Because of how much he prides himself on understanding, and by extension owning, his own thoughts and feelings- he could tell there was something drawing him to you the moment he met you. A gut feeling that he’d really care to know you better; one that he knows better than to ignore.

Good luck trying to hide anything from him yourself, either. He is as good at reading others as he is himself.

Therefore, if you felt immediately drawn to him as well, he’s going to notice. You might not say anything outright or maybe try to bury it deep down… but either way, he can tell.

Not that he minds your affections, of course. Giorno gets into this cheeky habit of dangling the concept of a potential relationship above your head. Just out of reach.

Yes, it’s in part because he wants to tease you. Seeing you grow flustered at his unapologetically forward flirtations… it never gets old.

But Giorno is also a very busy individual.

It’s difficult for him to plan meetups with you, being gone for days on end at times. Even up and leaving at the drop of a hat if the need arises. He takes his position seriously, and has been a rather involved Don since day one.

And Giorno is a sucker for the details, so he won’t make the final push to become official unless it’s the perfect moment.

Luckily for you, he’s a patient guy.

And as mentioned, he can read you like an open book. He knows you’re not looking at other men or women. Keenly aware you’re waiting for him to make some grand gesture.

Some guilt inevitably spawns whenever he gets extra busy, but your happiness at getting to see him again quickly puts those worries to rest for the time being.

All that in due time… after all, if it’s really true love, he is in no desire to rush.

That being said, the people in his inner circle would absolutely like him to rush. Who knows about his feelings for you? Everyone.

That’s not hyperbole, he’s fairly certain everyone around him can tell.

He will never shut up about you. In damn near any situation where it may be appropriate. Not in any situation that it would potentially reach your ears.

Mista himself has commented that he doesn’t know which he would prefer: Giorno before a relationship with you or during. Either way he’s ‘dealing with a lovesick fool.’

Giorno doesn’t care much, already knowing it’s something his closest friends ought to get used to. Confident in himself and what he picks up on.

After all, your smile says what his mind is already thinking.

Bruno Bucciarati

-> Reunited Childhood Friends

Bruno Bucciarati is a man that has stuck with the same haircut and pattern of clothing since he was twelve years old.

Of course he’s still not over you by the time of the inevitable reunion. Like Giorno, he’s definitely a ‘one love’ sort of man.

Getting contacted by you felt like a dream… but it also brought forth initial hesitation.

Due to the specific turn his life took, he had to leave a lot of things behind. Some more regrettable than others… and you were one of his biggest regrets for a long time.

Regardless, his heart won that day- as he agreed to meeting up with you faster than he would care to admit.

The excitement and build up to it after a date was set is a beast in of itself. The prospect of finally seeing you again after all these years fills his chest with a warmth he’s only ever associated with you.

His mind whirls, all his thoughts leading back to the hope that he’ll get to know the person you have matured into.

Your career, hobbies, how your family is doing, the path you’ve been walking down ever since he’d left its course far too long ago… and him praying there’s a distinct lack of a ring on your left hand.

Bruno’s glad to say that his hopes were well-placed. Upon seeing you again, you proved to be just as eager to know how he’s been doing all this time.

Your questions leave him feeling bittersweet; something he knew would happen.

How could he even begin to explain himself? Would he even want to? You deserve more than a short explanation or a lie. But he cannot and will not bring you into gang affairs either. And if he was honest…. where would he even begin?

“I committed murder to protect my father when I was twelve and ended up entangled in gang affairs. Sorry for not giving you a phone call.”

… it needs work, to put it lightly.

He’s not the type to succumb to fear but… it’s difficult not to stress over what you would think of him if he’s completely honest with you. It’s a testament to how deeply special you are to him; hardly ever getting this mentally worked up over anything outside his beloved team.

The push and pull of wanting to be honest with you- yet not wanting to risk putting a target on your back.

Whether it’s due to the years of separation or just the undeserved kindness you offer him, at some point, you admit to only thinking of those old days fondly.

Regardless of being quite startled with his sudden absence in your life, you couldn’t hold it against him. You knew of his parents divorce, and the last thing you had heard, was that Bruno’s father was in the hospital.

At first, he’s just resigns himself into being gratefyl you had it within yourself to forgive him.

But how can he hope to ignore… how lovely of a person you have grown up to be- inside and out. In the long run, it just doesn’t happen. His feelings truly snowballing for the first time in years.

Suddenly, he feels like a foolish child again. Only now, he must be doing something right because you could cause traffic to stop with the way you start to look at him.

There’s a warm nostalgia to you. Someone who knows him; truly knows him. Outside of his work and the contradictions he over for it for years.

And it gets to a point where Bruno resolves he must tell you how he feels. And by then, he won’t dally.

You’re back in his life again, and he’s sure as hell not leaving. Especially not without expressing his feelings.

Only took him short of nine years.

Leone Abbacchio

-> ‘We’re Just Coworkers’

He doesn’t necessarily meet people outside Passione, not one to go out of his way to seek companionship.

He has the team. He has Bucciarati. There isn’t much he wants, or feels like he can, ask for.

It’s because of this that you both are most likely to meet through the organization.

And there’s no doubt that Abbacchio is… apathetic to your position in the gang at first.

Now, he’s not as harsh on you as he was comparatively to Giorno. You’re not a fifteen year old with a savior complex and a tendency to act with a sort of righteous grandeur.

So, in short, you’re already doing great as far as he’s concerned.

Not that he warms up to you quickly; quite the opposite. Weeks will pass before he starts to slowly accept and involve you in any meaningful capacity. A guy like him just needs time to get used to someone so new to him… lots and lots of time.

Once that need has been met, he figures you’re alright.

Not bad company- in or out of Passione business. Far favorable to other people around him, as far as he’s concerned. He finds that you’re much better to converse with than Mista or Fugo.

It’s in his nature to compare a little bit, so when he starts seeing you from a fairer perspective… that’s when a quiet appreciation forms.

Alas, his heart is not as immovable as he likes believing it to be.

Over time, the two of you start to metaphorically lean on one another.

It starts off professionally enough, relying on one another in the heat of battle. Then, it gets to a more personal level- quieter conversations maintained between the two of you beneath the usual noise of the others interacting just a foot or two away.

Still, you two only work together. It’s professional. Without question. At least, that’s the case if Abbacchio or you are asked about it directly.

But the others are oh-so-quick-to-point-out that him letting you crash on his bed during particularly exhausting nights is not exactly platonic behavior. Nor is just how sucked into conversations the two of you get, or how much time you spend one-on-one.

And Abbacchio is nothing if not the type to do the exact opposite of what everyone says.

He’s going to deny it for months. Hell, years if you let him.

Never mind the fact the two of you already act like a couple. Getting ‘mistaken’ as one when going out, regardless if it’s just the two of you or not. Each time, you’re both insistent that you’re merely work friends.

It would be ten times more frustrating if there wasn’t any truth to it that neither of you are prepared to admit to.

It takes a healthy amount of whack cartoonish logic for things to finally fall into place. Being locked in a small room for twenty minutes, or possibly an accidental kiss to the lips… that sort of thing.

Guido Mista

-> Coffee Shop Regular

Mista likes the simple things in life, no doubt.

There’s many ways that fact manifests. One example is that he often wanders around the city in order to check out local businesses. Diners, secondhand stores, and little coffee shops. He knows the area well, and likes sparking up conversations with the people he comes across.

And a cute worker at one of his favorite coffee shops? Makes his day even better, he’d figure.

He was already a regular at your place of employment long before you were hired. Meaning, when he saw a new face behind the counter, he had to offer a hello with a relaxed smile on his face.

And to his credit, it was incredibly easy to like him.

The type of customer who’s always in a decent mood, not too impatient, and always knowing what he wanted to order long before walking in.

Sprinkle in a pleasant ‘hello’ or a lighthearted joke every now and then, and he starts to notice your face brightening every time he enters the shop.

He won’t argue against the idea it fills him with something far deeper than pride.

Beyond finding you initially attractive, he considers you a good worker. He cannot imagine being a barista is always easy, but he’d care to point out that you make it look easy. You know his order by memory after a while, and conversation with you comes naturally.

And soon, the workplace barrier is finally shattered. Happening so casually it was practically thoughtless.

One day, Mista walked into the store just when you were sent on a break. He greeted you as always, and offered to sit with you while you decompressed with a cup of coffee of your own.

That’s when he’d say that something a bit more concrete formed. More real, past the relationship of worker and patron.

And he grows unapologetically forward by then too.

He’s not the type to hit on you at work, but certainly not above blatantly asking for your number after he felt it may be appropriate to do so.

He finds it to be a casual and natural progression, something that is in his nature to embrace.

Like Giorno, though, he’ll drag out the time before asking you out just in order to tease you. He doesn’t automatically figure out that you might be into him, but he’ll get the hint by the time you two start calling one another regularly.

He’s not easily affected by the others teasing him over you, either. He openly admits that he’s into you, why get embarrassed?

Now, if someone makes a comment about it in front of you, then he’ll get flustered. An emotion expressed through frustration and defensiveness.

Regardless of that, it’s such a relaxed progression that at some point he thinks meeting you may have been fate. There’s a ton of coffee shops all around Naples, yet you chose to work at one of the small handful he regularly likes visiting.

If his life is predetermined, like he believes it is, then he’s grateful fate is on his side.

Pannacotta Fugo

-> Friends to Lovers

This man looks at someone with a view on love like Giorno and scoffs with distain.

The notion of ‘love at first sight’ is one that is only entertained by foolish and idealistic individuals, according to Fugo. Rolling his eyes, a scoff escaping his lips… he thinks that mindset is ridiculous and is unafraid to express it.

Hell, romantic relationships aren’t even on his radar in general.

He doesn’t look down on or think negatively of anyone in one, of course. But it’s hardly ever on his mind. Focused on Passione and the team he is proud to be a part of.

And that doesn’t change one bit upon meeting you.

As usual, such a thing doesn’t cross his mind once. The prospect of a potential new ally and friend is the only one he cares to ponder, even if you start off on the right foot. He’s a little distant, but polite and fair enough to give you a chance.

Good thing he did to, as far as hindsight is concerned.

A funny individual and someone who hardly ever makes him want to flip a table? He’s glad to call you his friend once a foundation of trust is established.

If he thinks about it, he’d have to admit to himself there’s something very earnest and warm about the relationship.

You’re a good conversationalist, he respects your intelligence, and even silence around you is comfortable.

More than that, you’re reliable. Stress doesn’t come quite as easy whenever you’re around. And when it does, you understand him. You know just what to say and how to say it. And he’ll be damned if he doesn’t try to express the same kindness.

He starts thinking of you when you’re not around, especially when he’s alone. Thinking of anything from a fond or humorous memory, or simply the curve of your smile.

Oh… oh no.

Tackling his own growing feelings is a lengthy process. He wasn’t interested in seeking out a partner, but he catches feelings before he even realizes it.

And figuring out your feelings on the matter? Forget it.

He won’t say a thing unless you make a move yourself, too wary to even admit he could realistically do something himself. A fact the others are quite keen on reminding him of.

His insecurity won’t last forever, though.

Being around you is such a joy that it’s hard to get trapped in his own mind in the moment. That smile on your face, and sentences leaving your lips in the familiar tones of your voice…

You are his friend first and foremost; someone he feels he can really talk to and trust.

And that’s why you turn out to be everything he didn’t know he’d ever hope for.

Narancia Ghirga

-> Will They, Won’t They?

Giorno is going to start making Narancia pay for his therapy appointments. Abbacchio once made a sarcastic remark about wanting to start drinking again because of this. Mista has given Narnacia approximately twenty three lectures over the subject. Fugo is pulling his hair out.

And really, who can blame any of them?

Having to watch you and Narancia interact on a regular basis is a frustrating experience- to put it lightly.

That feeling only heightened by the fact that it’s something no one feels as though they can even comment directly on whenever you and Narancia are both around. Simply swallowing any words bubbling to the surface.

All this to say, Narancia falls for you quickly and he falls hard.

At first, there wasn't a single complaint to be had from anyone on the team. On the contrary, the others took the time to hype him up with wide smiles and pats on his back.

Narancia himself is excited to be experiencing something as genuinely sweet and grounded as a crush, and that elation was contagious.

But then a couple weeks pass... then a month... then another month... then another....

If the others were a smidge more invasive, they would've just pushed you two in front of one another yelling 'to just get on with it already' months ago.

Specifically Fugo, who actively lets it get to him in a way that Narancia merely huffs at. Sometimes offering a noncommittal response if he feels it’s necessary.

It doesn't matter how much his former tutor gets on his case, Narancia’s not budging. A light blush present on his face when he insists for the hundredth time that there's no way you could possibly feel the same.

Your own friends go through a very similar situation on the other end of things.

Similarly with someone like Abbacchio, the two of you act like a couple far before anything is set in stone. Unlike him, it's less causal and downright mind-boggling to the people around you.

Your legs lazily draped over his lap, going on drives that last for hours at a time, one barely ever seen without the other, and talking about each other constantly.

The latter became so frequent that Giorno once had to pull Narancia aside and tell him to stop mentioning you at Passione meetings.

Narancia has to bit his lip just to stop himself, but he manages. Much to the Don’s relief- never wanting to have that kind of conversation with a friend again.

Giorno cannot and won't try to control him outside of work, though, so it was merely half the battle.

Not that Narancia particularly minds the others' reactions to it very much.

Months into his affections and he's gotten used to the constant stream of teasing. Besides, he lies to himself figures that maybe they're just jealous. He wouldn’t blame them if that’s the case, finding you as special as any person can be.

Regardless of what anyone says, the sweetness is there.

An amusement to be had over how truly clueless the both of you are, despite interacting with flushed faces and stuttering words. It’s sweet, then annoying to the point where it circles around to being funny.

But you and Narancia retreat into your own little world where all of that melts away. He’s loyal, and since you hold his heart, it would be an understatement to say you’re just important to him.

Who will give in and admit the crush first? It's up in the air.

[nicherayyy]

La squadra hc when they were in school (highschool) like their attitude, were they like academic achiever, delinquent, did they date anyone?? (They’re in the same school btw)🙏🙏🙏🙏 PLEASE PLEASE PLEASE AND THANKYOU!!

OMG YASSS! I have so many hcs with highschool la squadra tbh😭

La Squadra Highschool hcs

Okay so first of all

I'm pretty sure they won't become one big friend group at least for a few months

Mostly because of personality differences

For example Prosciutto prays to all the gods imaginable not to have classes with Formaggio

It's not like he hates him, but he definitely finds him pretty annoying

Poor Pros just came here to study some math while there's Formaggio trying to show a lightbulb into his mouth out of boredom

And I definitely see him annoy Pros in a classic class clown way

-Pros... PROS

-WHAT?

-*giggles* nothin'

And if the teacher notices he'd blame Prosciutto too😭

So yeah.. nobody really likes having classes with Formaggio

I'm pretty sure everyone sees him like a type of guy who constantly needs to date someone, although he only got a girlfriend once (in 5th grade and it lasted for two weeks)

Thinks that drinking energy drinks is cool, so he drinks them CONSTANTLY

If you look closely you might see his hands shaking from all the caffeine he consumed

He's like a big ball of energy

And maybe a ball of stomach and kidney issues, he's not sure, visiting a doctor is not his style

And since he needs to spend this energy somewhere the only class he never skipped is PE

Tries to show cool tricks with a basketball ball, but just ends up looking stupid

Well.. at least Illuso is amused

In the mean way

I swear he's like a school diva

A mean girl

Nobody really likes him for that, but he kinda has frienemy dynamic with Formaggio

I swear, one minute they're laughing together and the other they're trying to drown each other in a water fountain

Illuso would have a school gossip instagram account

(Mostly he just comes up with tea himself)

Somebody held hands? Yeah, they're getting a whole article about their dating life.

"Name three songs of the band on your shirt" type of guy

So yeah, he just goes to school to get some tea

But I KNOW that at the end of the semester he tries to hand in all his skipped assignments like nothing happened

-Hey teacher, I've got this essay you assigned us

-...It was due two months ago

-...Well I still did it, didn't I?

Risotto is a quiet type of guy

Not in a cool mysterious way, he's just mostly in his own world

But if you want to do a project with him, or sit with him during lunch he's totally fine with that

Has his own collection of band shirts

(Uh-huh he's the one who Iluso asks to name three band songs)

-Metallica shirt? Hah, name at least three of their songs

-"Enter Sandman", "Ride The Lightning", "Fade To Black"

-..Okay you're no fun

Randomly mastered piercing so now he has both of his brows pierced

Not really an academic weapon, he just does what he's asked to do

Literally, if you ask him to write an essay for 2000 words he'll write EXACTLY 2000 words. No more no less

I don't see him dating at all, cause he sees no point in it

Sometimes hangs out with Prosciutto

He just complimented his jacket once

Cause I literally see Pros being the most fashionable guy in school

So he likes his outfits/pieces of closing being complimented

He's the one big perfectionist

Has everything organised

School locker, notebooks, pencil cases you name it

Tried to become school president once

But wasn't so popular among voters for being "too serious"

He was, in fact, too serious

I don't think he ever skipped a class

(He'll feel bad if he does)

Besides, school is for studying so what's the poing of going there if he would just skip classes?

Took Pesci, as he calls it, "under his wing"

Mostly because Pesci thinks that Pros's really cool

Okay so Pesci is like the shyest but the nicest guy in school

Pros told him to be less nice cause some students take advantage of that

Yeah, some people are really mean to him

Gets so upset if he gets a bad mark

He's an average students, but tries to do better

I see Prosciutto using aggressive motivation on him

-We're graduating in two years and you're planning to apply to college with those results???

And Pesci gets a major scare from that

Also tried to be in school sports team, such as swim team, soccer team etc

Found out that that's not his cup of tea the hardest way possible.

Melone's a straight A student without even trying

He doesn't care that much, but somehow he's magically one of the best students at school

-Did you study for the test?

-What? No, I didn't even open the book *Gets an A+*

Teachers always ask him to help if they have some sort of computer problems

Still, some students think he's a creep

And well.. he is to some extent

Just don't tell him your zodiac sign and you'll be okay

I see him being in some kind of computer club

Or generally something related to electronics

You know, even if he's a good student, he still got suspended for dress code violation once or twice

But I know he's still teachers favourite because he knows how to make Excel Tables

And I also know for a fact that the same teachers don't like Ghiaccio

Especially literature teacher.

Ghiaccio is weirdly educated in literature, and he thinks that only his point of view is right

You don't agree with his view of some characters? Oh well, obviously your opinion is the wrong one

So the poor literature teacher spends like 45 minutes only to make Ghia stop try to argue with him

Also constantly tries to find loopholes in the school rules

And there's no reason to it, he just does that

School office secretary hates to see him coming.

Ghia is another perfectionist so instead of using eraser to correct a misspell, he just throws away an entire sheet of paper and starts again

(It's his 5th sheet of paper)

[astroreoreoreoreoreoreoreo]

Lore: I am working on a passion project part 5 fic that is jokingly titled "Fugo's Gay Adventure" (but I promise the main plot is actually about like. Stand fights and problems with a rival gang)

Anyway I made splash art for it because I felt like it using the designs I made. (I forgot that Gio had a canon post-GW design my bad.)

Designs (and dumb jokes) under the cut

sorry the refs are kinda ass leave me alone bye

[gauloiseblue]

I'm hungry for something else

Warning: mature content

If you could describe the man next to you, you'd say messy, chaotic, careless, and angelic. His tousled golden hair sprawled everywhere on the pillow, and the soft white bedcover of your bed failed to hide his bare torso. But even so, he's like the sleeping God in a Renaissance painting. 

A soft air of amusement escapes from your nose as you gently push his unraveled curls aside, and his brows furrow at the sudden touch. You pressed your lips on his forehead, before you carefully climbed out of the bed. He stirred in his sleep, but his eyes were still closed.  

When you turned your head towards the bed, you were once again greeted by the mess, yet also the perfect view of him. Some of the pillows fell from the mattress, and the tie he used before is peeking from the seams of the blanket. The paleness of the bed sheet contrasts with his rich skin tone, while his golden hair compliments the achromatic style of the room. You admire him for a moment, before you turn away from him. Your body feels sticky, and you need a good shower. 

You quickly snatched up the water bottle from the nightstand as you made your way to the bathroom. The double wide mirror reflects the whole room and your figure when you went inside, and your eyes widened when you saw the numerous marks on your neck. You frowned when you realized that you can't wear the halter dress for tonight. With a sigh, you began to make your way to the shower. 

The natural stone under your feet feels cold as you step into the small room, and you immediately turn the faucet. The water feels pleasantly warm against your skin, and the glass starts to fog as the temperature rises. You hummed as you begin to wash your body, while letting the water soak you thoroughly. 

As you wash the remaining shampoo from your hair, you hear a soft sound of footsteps coming from the room. A lazy smirk stretches on your lips as you feel your lover's hands wrapped around you, and he pulls you against his chest. You rest your head on his shoulder, and he begins to pepper a few kisses along your neck. 

"When I woke up and didn't see you beside me, I thought of the worst." He murmurs as he holds you close, and you chuckle at the overstatement. 

"Oh you." You softly moan when he nips on your skin, "I swear, someday I'll get sick of your remarks."

"But you'll still love me, won't you amore?" 

You giggled before you turned your body to face him, "You know I can't deny that."

It didn't take a second before your lips found each other, and soon you were wrapped up in the kiss. His hand creeps from your shoulder then down to your waist, and you feel something wonderful pressed on your lower belly. 

He kisses you with the same passion as you, and you run your fingers into his hair. He pushed you against the wall, and trapped you with his body. Your stomach was heated up as it dawned on you  that both of you are unclothed, and the fact that nothing comes between the two of you makes it easier for him to take you right here and now. 

"Giorno—" You gasped when he slipped his hand between your thighs, and you gripped his hand to stop him, "We'll be late for dinner."

"We can always call the room service." He stated with a heavy breath, "I don't want to leave the room."

"But—" Kiss. "You already made a reservation—" Kiss. "And we have barely left the room since we first checked-in..." 

"Oh, amore..." He chuckled as you struggled to keep your face straight, "Don't you think it's better for us to stay?"

You gritted your teeth as he teased you, but you won't give in that easily, "You said we could have dinner at the hotel restaurant," You pout, "Just a short dinner, then we can go back to our room."

He paused as he searched into your eyes, but you showed nothing but resolve. He lets out an amused, but soft snort, "Alright, if that's what my bella wants."

You beamed as you thanked him with a kiss on his cheek, "I'll go and get changed."

You were surprised at how easy he let you go this time, and how he didn't try to change your mind. But in spite of that, you're glad that he agreed to come with you. As you wrap yourself in a towel, you pick up the hairdryer before heading to the dressing room. Once you sit at the dresser, you begin to dry your hair and spritze some perfume on your pulse points. 

As you finished putting on light makeup, you started to choose which dress you'd use for dinner. Your eyes fell to the turtleneck dress, and the red stilettos on the bottom shelf. They are a perfect match, and you immediately put them on. Your feet easily slip into the heels, but you struggle to zip up your dress. 

"Need a hand?" You turned your head to see your lover leaning against the wall, with his arms crossed, and a towel hanging loose around his hips. He smirked at you, and you blushed when you realized that you've been staring at the delicate skin under his toned abdomen, for a little longer than necessary. 

"Oh," You coughed as you looked away, "Yes, I could use some help."

He tilted his head before he walked closer, this time his steps were firmer, as if he emphasized every step. You gulped as you turned on your heels, and now with your back facing him, you couldn't possibly know what he'd do.

"(Y/N)." He spoke in a low tone, and you shivered when his knuckles brushed the delicate skin on your spine. His hand then slowly pulls the seam of the zipper toward the center, and you feel your dress fastened around your waist. "Diamonds and gold would complement your dress perfectly, don't you think?" 

You straightened your back as the slider reached the end point, "I think so too," You bit your lip when he sneaked his arms to hold you from behind, "Go get dressed, I'm famished."

He chuckled as he withdrew his hands from you, "Mia ragazza is very impatient tonight."

When Giorno left your side, you distracted yourself by opening your jewelry box. Pearls and diamonds proudly shine under the bright lamp, and some of them reflect a small patch of rainbow. The double necklace and the matching earrings quickly grab your attention, as well as the simple band ring and the Victorian "three stone" diamond ring. You certainly couldn't choose which one you should wear if Giorno didn't tell you the perfect pair for your dress. 

"Are you done yet, amore?" Your head turns toward the source of his voice, and you almost gasp when you see him in a loose white shirt. His clothes neatly tucked into his belted trousers, and the top three buttons of his shirt were left open. 

"Yes, I'll get my purse." You said with a little bit of hurry, and thankfully the thing you searched for is right on the sofa. You hurriedly went to grab it. 

"Hold on for a second, amore." He suddenly called, and you froze as it sounded more like a command. You stay unmoved as he touches the soft mount of your bum, and begins to fondle them. You bite back your moan when he pushes you flat against the door, while his hand roams onto your backside. 

But something felt wrong, as you could no longer feel the band of your underwear. Then, something's creeping up from your thighs, and that's when you spot a black scales creature, with a pale yellow underbelly. Your eyes widened as you screamed when you saw the snake slithered away, and up into his hand. 

"Shh, bella mia. She's as harmless as a dove." He let you go as he kissed the top of the serpent's head. Its tongue flicks out as it bumps its snout on his cheek, demanding his attention. He then scratches its chin lovingly before the scaly creature slips into his pocket. You watch him in disbelief as he opens the door for you, as if he hadn't done anything wrong, or hadn't just taken your underwear. And when he gives you the smirk that weakens your knees, you know you should've called the room service instead.

—

The dinner went quiet, and thanks to the shock that he gave you earlier, you no longer had the appetite. The feeling of sleek scales on your thigh has been lingering for a while, and it still stirred your gut up. 

But it's not the only thing that makes your stomach churned, 

"Ah, mia bella... You look ravishing tonight."

"How's the wine? Does it suit your taste? ... Or do you prefer another drink?"

"They were delicious, but I'm still hungry for something else."

You didn't know how many times you've bit your lip to keep yourself composed, and you were sure that he already knew how flushed you've become. The fact that he booked the whole restaurant for the two of you didn't help either, because he could tease you all he wanted without the disturbance of the curious eyes. 

There's no other people in this restaurant, and all the attendants of the restaurant have left the room as they were instructed to. Giorno told them that he wants some privacy, and of course, no one would be brave enough to deny such a request from the Don. 

"What's wrong, amore?" He looks at you with his chin resting on his hand, there's an unmistakable amusement from his tone when he sees you getting nervous. 

You forced a smile as you lifted your wine glass, "It's nothing, caro." You replied, "I'm waiting for the digestivo."

"Oh." His response was flat, but his lips curled upwards. "Why the rush? We still have wine to finish."

Of course, it's only half a bottle left, you thought sarcastically. 

He had ordered a bottle of 'Valpolicella Ripasso Classico' wine for apéritif, but by the fourth glass, you were beginning to feel tipsy. You were sure you'd end up drunk if you kept going, so you didn't pour the wine for the fifth round. Besides, you still have the after-meal liquor for later. The alcohol did calm your nerves, as you can feel the tension in your shoulders melted away. 

But something odd is going on, and you know you're not drunk enough to start hallucinating. At first, you felt that you were being watched, but there's no one in the restaurant except you and Giorno. Then, there's a soft, feathery touch on your hand, but it was brief, as if you were just imagining things. 

Except, you weren't. Because the second you felt a firm grip on your thigh, you finally understood what was happening. 

"Ah, it seems like GER couldn't wait to taste you." He smirked when your mouth fell open, "We shouldn't let him wait any longer, don't you think?"

"Gio!" You hissed as you tried to close your thighs, but his invisible stand easily pried them open. "Please, caro—" A squeak escaped your lips when a pair of strong hands pulled you to the edge of your seat. 

Giorno watched you with half-lidded eyes, while you gritted your teeth to bite back your moan. His stand had just pushed your legs apart before his hard, and cold lips were attached to your labia. You instantly grip the armrests of your chair when you feel a long unnatural tongue slip into your core, and it's so cold, so cold like a flexible metal. 

Your knuckles turned white when the elastic muscle was dragged to your little pearl, and Giorno sighed in pleasure when he could feel your heartbeat through his stand's tongue. You certainly didn't expect him to use his stand like this, it's pretty bizarre to think that his powerful ally—the thing that has accompanied him in every fierce battle, agreed to do such a debauched thing. If there's no tablecloth to cover your legs, you were sure your pussy would be on full display. 

The seam of your dress was pushed to your stomach, revealing your bare thighs to his eyes only. The sight of your skin and your private part drove him crazy, as he could feel himself growing tight in his pants. He sips his wine as his stand works on your pleasure, and you begin to feel the buildup to your release. 

Your feet curled when his finger slid into your sex, before he added another one without warning. Your wall clenched around his digits when he buried his fingers deeper, until he could touch the tender part of your core. It didn't take long before he began to caress the certain spot that sent you into spiralling bliss, and you silently moaned at the delicious friction. 

"Oh mia bella..." He chuckled when he saw your face twisted in pleasure, "Do you think I can make you come before they serve the amaro?"

You whined at his vulgar question, "Giorno." His name falls from your lips like a beg, as the idea of coming undone in this very situation excites you.

But you still have a little sense of judgement left, and you reminded yourself that you're still in the restaurant—a public place. And that's when you spotted a man, the waiter to be exact, just entered the room. He seems to be walking straight to the bar, and there's only one explanation for it, he's preparing for the digestivo. 

"Giorno, we shouldn't—" You draw a quivering breath, "We—ah! We should stop."

"Isn't it a little too late for that?" He grinned, clearly unaware, or even didn't care about the situation. But it's different in your case, you really need to stop him before the waiter approaches. 

You were beginning to panic as you saw the man finished pouring two shots of amaro, and placed them onto a tray. The distance between the bar and your table is only 8 tables away, you have to act fast. 

An idea, or more like a wild guess pops up in your mind as you push your stiletto off from one of your feet. Then you try to blindly feel his stand before your heel lands on a hard limb, which you instantly drag your foot towards the center of the stand's hip. His stand's movement ceases as his expression changes as he feels the sudden pressure on his crotch. It's not hard enough to induce pain, but it's just enough to make his cock throbs. You keep stroking his member as you put your best innocent face, 

"Mio amore," You called him with the most seductive tone you could muster. Which, unexpectedly, had an effect on him. He breathed out a low groan before he pressed his fist against his lips, trying to suppress his moan. 

You smile as you continue, "Do you like it when I do this to you, caro?"

He fell quiet as you gave his member the attention he craved, but his face darkened as he felt his control over you slipped away. You know he didn't like it when you tease him, but you'd rather have him punish you later than getting caught in public. 4 tables away, 3 tables away... 

You let out a relieved sigh as he calls his stand back, and his companion dematerializes in a second. You quickly straighten your dress before you adjust your sitting position, just in time to properly greet the waiter. 

"Two 'Don Bairo Elisir' Amaro Liqueur." The man smiles as he puts the crystal cordial glasses on your table. 

"Grazie."

"Do you need anything else?" He asked, but you shook your head. 

"No, that's all."

The waiter nodded before he bowed his head slightly to your lover, but upon seeing your lover's face, he turned pale. "Sir." He trembled as he excused himself from your table.

You gingerly bring the glass to your lips before you pretend to look somewhere else, anywhere but his face. But even with your effort to ignore him, you couldn't shake the heavy tension in the air. You begin to sweat as you feel his eyes burn on your skin, you know exactly what it means. 

"I'm," You gulped, "I'm going to the bathroom."

In haste, you push your chair before you stand. You hoped your trip to the restroom would soothe the tense atmosphere, or at least that was what you thought. But when you turn your body on him, a strong hand swiftly holds your wrist in a death grip, making you freeze in an instant. 

"Oh you're not going anywhere, (Y/N)."

[leecherish]

Preorders for Dandelion: A Leone Abbacchio zine are OPEN!

I wrote a pre-canon fic for it, titled Old Wounds, New Orders. It's about Abbacchio and his partner having a run-in with a certain black-haired mafioso, and a conversation that comes full circle later on.

Please reblog to spread the word! 🌼

[lady-wallace]

COVER REVEAL: For Whom the Bell Tolls

It's time for the final paperback cover reveal before pre-orders open!

This one is for the Giorno and Abbacchio fight ring fic "For Whom the Bell Tolls"

I'm also excited to announce that pre-orders WILL BE OPENING SOON! Next week I will be announcing the official date for pre-orders so definitely keep an eye out for that, as well as fic/illustration previews. I'm super excited to share all of the merch designs with you! We've got some goodies I think are very cool this time, and hopefully you do too!

[wryyyyyvernquill]

Some old art for @sixclawsdragon 's fic Heart and Soul from way back when that I don't think I ever posted - here ar all of Giorno's soulmarks, collected together! In order: Narancia, Mista, Abbacchio, Fugo, Trish, Bucciarati.

[carryingstarlightinherwake]

My entry for today's @whumptober 2024 prompt, which is also a collab with @lady-wallace! Thank you so much to her for the gorgeous illustration <3

Read it here!

[gingernut1314]

Touch Me, Please pt. 2

Polnareff x GN!Reader

Summary: How Part 5 Polnareff likes to be touched

Warnings: jjba part 5, MAJOR SPOILERS FOR 29-39, phantom pains, feel-good fluff

Word Count: HC: 980+, Drabbles: 290+ & 400+, Total: 1.6K

A/N: sorry for reposting this. I accidentally deleted it 💀 anyway....here it is again and I hope you enjoy!!

↞ to Touch Me Masterlist | Jjba Masterlist | Request Rules | Blog Navigation ↠ part 1

Polnareff is a very very proud man

He’s proud of his hair, his personality, his actions, and most of all his body

He has spent years training and exercising to get it in the peek condition it is in

But now, after Daviolo’s attack, his pride was torn so much worse than his body

So don’t be hurt when he turns away your touches and just wants to be alone during much of his recovery

In his mind, he is less than what he once was and you wouldn’t want a man who was defeated as such

But sit beside him as much as he allows, talk softly to him, tell him how much you love him, bring him his meals

He’ll even try to refuse your help to use the restroom or get in/out of bed. He finds he needs to do these things by himself to prove he isn’t as broken as he is

He’ll only ask for your help on occasion, but mainly to tuck him in at night

But after a while (...probably just a week or so cause this man just needs touch in his life) he’ll softly take your hand in his at breakfast

And he won’t let go until you physically have to for one reason or another

He still won’t let you touch his right hand or his legs or even the scar over his eye

But please caress his cheeks and neck and shoulders and back

Give him all the kisses you want

You’ll slowly start to see his goofy and charming personality peek out from the seriousness he had fallen into because your touch is slowly beginning to heal him

And after a few weeks of these touches, he’ll slowly start to feel his resolve melt and he’ll reach out to feel over your cheek with his prosthetic hand

He’ll allow you to cup it within your own 

Allow you to turn your face to place a soft kiss to the inside of his palm, the robotic hand the Speedwagon Foundation had somehow been able to sneak into the country surprisingly warm against your lips

After that any and all touch is back on the table

He’ll let you rest your hand on his thigh, fingers trailing over it and touching prosthetic here and there

He’ll allow you to help him take on and off his prosthetic legs before getting in and out of bed

Pleaseeeee cuddle the man at night

Pleaseeeee

Kiss his face, rub circles into his back, and hold him close as he falls asleep

While cuddling, don’t be surprised if you feel his hand run over your leg to pull it over his thighs or waist

Because while he used to be able to all but cage you in with his body, he can only truly do that with his arms now so he will be doing everything in his power to keep you close

If he struggles with phantom pains, you are sure to read up and look into how you can help 

One way is to message the limb which makes Polnareff a little panicky, seeing as he still struggles with allowing you to touch his legs and arm

But the pain gets so blinding sometimes he doesn’t have the fight in him to deny you any longer

Your fingers are like heaven, relieving him of his pains with precious and accuracy

When you pull your hands away after some time, he’s grabbing them up and showering them in thousands upon thousands of kisses

Kisses that always end up trailing up your arms to find your lips

He will pull you into his lap and wheel you both around the village’s small hospital

He will not let you up until you need to be standing

Doesn’t really like it when you push him around, preferring the sitting in his lap method, but because he loves you and if he really needs help, he’ll allow it

Always be sure to kiss the back of his neck or cheek before, during, and after though

Lots and lots and LOTS of lap-sitting 

Like you are glued in his lap 24/7

You’ll hold his computer while he does research into the arrow and into those that could help you both defeat Diavolo

Polnareff will rest his chin on your shoulder as he does his research, placing kisses here and there on your cheek and neck that make your skin spark

“I’ll go bring the car around to the front, okay?” You said, after packing what little belongings the both of you held. After months and months of recovery, Polnareff was finally ready to leave the small hospital he had been admitted to and you both were very much ready to leave. “I’ll be right--” A hand grabbing yours had you pausing to look back and find Polnareff sitting there, eyes full of determination.

“We’ll go together to get the car.” He said, lightly tugging on his hand in a way he had done hundreds of times while here at the hospital. You knew exactly what the silent command meant.

“It’ll be faster if I go alone to get the car.” You said, but your feet were carrying you closer to the man you loved. 

“Since when do we do things alone, mon amour?” He responded, a small smile on his lips. You smiled right back, leaning down so you could look more deeply into his gray eyes. 

“Never.” You placed a soft kiss to his lips that had him bringing his other hand up to cup your cheeks, fingers feeling over the skin there in a way that had your heart fluttering like crazy. 

“Let’s get out of here,” Polnareff said once you pulled away from the kiss. He tugged at your hand again and you followed his guidance to sit in his lap. You wrapped your arms around his neck as he began to push you both towards the door. “And please, mon coeur, let us find a place with a decent bathroom. This one was just frightful.” You chuckled planting a smacking kiss on his cheek that had a slight blush dusting over his fair skin.

“Anything for you.” 

!!SPOILERS FOR POLNAREFF'S ENDING!!

So….he’s a turtle now

That’s okay because you don’t care

And you still kiss the top of his little head and pet his shell

Carry him around in your arms

Hug him

Put him in a purse like a chihuahua and pet his little head as you walk around Italy

He can manifest his…body? Spirit? Inside the little room so you can hop in there any time you wish to hang out with him. He can do this because I say he can

You can still physically touch him inside of the little room….because I said so….

He can also change his appearance throughout the years he has been alive BECAUSE I SAID SO AND ANYTHING ELSE IS TOO SAD 

So he’s able to walk up to you, pick you up, and spin you around as he litters kisses to your face

Expect to not really leave the room for a while because his death still haunts him

He’s gonna be so scared his soul might pass on without you, so he’s holding onto you extra tight

The inside of the room is your home now btw 

Will sometimes reach a ghostly hand outside of the turtle to try to hold your hand

I don’t think he would be able to touch you outside of the turtle cause….he’s a ghost…so you can 100% reach your hand inside of the key to hold his hand during a business meeting or out and about

“Oh, what a cute little pet turtle you have there.” A person passing you in the street cooed, stopping you and Polnareff on your way to meet with Giorno. “I used to have a turtle just like this.” They said, reaching a hand out to pet Polnareff’s head from where it peeked out of the purse you carried. 

“Hey!” You snapped, slapping the person’s hand away in the blink of an eye. “Don’t you dare touch my husband.” You hissed, placing a hand over his head to further protect him.

“W-what the hell? What--” But you are storming away before they can finish. 

“You know, I think half of Italy thinks you’re crazy.” Polnareff chuckles, reaching a ghostly hand out to pass it through the one still covering the turtle's head. The feeling was always strange, but it was warm and familiar. He did this in way of letting you know he wanted to hold your hand. To silently beg you to touch me, please. You were more than glad to reach a hand into the key’s red portal to hold it. 

“They think you believe that you have married a turtle.” He chuckled like he believed the situation was completely humorous. 

“I have��married a turtle. You are a turtle.” You grumbled, still annoyed that person had tried to touch him. The gall of them.

Polnareff tugged at your hand, dragging your arm further into the hidden room on the turtle's back. You felt his lips kiss the inside of your wrist, traveling further and further upward. Lips that ever so slowly eased the sharp annoyance in your chest.

“Do not remind me, mon amour.” He grumbled, pulling gently at your hand again. You paused in your travels as you took your hand back from him. You heard Polnareff huff at the absence of your hand, but it was quieted as soon as you shoved your head into your bag, it appearing inside the little room hidden away in the key on the turtle’s back. 

Polnareff stood on a chair, his frown turned into the brightest, goofiest smile you couldn’t help but match upon seeing your face. He stood on his tippy toes, cupping your cheeks in his hands before placing a quick kiss to your lips. 

….all anyone on that street saw was you with your head in a bag, voice muffled by the material as you talked to….was that a turtle?

[yael-things]

doodles based on "Are You That Light?" by milfhunter24 on ao3. oouuuuughh this fic is SO. GOOD. READ IT NOW FUGIO ENJOYERS!!!

[monster-energies]

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jjba masterlist

hello there, this is a master list of all of the jojo's bizarre adventure fanfiction i have posted to archive of our own.

below is a key to indicate the ranking of the fic,

🌻 - general 🌼 - teen and up 🥀 - mature 🌷 - explicit ℹ - implied themes 🌸 - minors DNI

i do put a photo of the summary and all the tags that are used in all my fanfictions, so you know what you'll be signing up for.

══════════════════════════════════════════════════════

🥀 dio brando/reader - im on my way. im on..

🌻ℹ jotaro kujo/reader - chairs so close and room so small, you and i talk all the night long

🥀🌸 yoshikage kira/reader - set your dreams where nobody hides. give your tears to the tide

🌻ℹdio brando/reader - the night city grows, look at the horizon glow

🌻bruno bucciarati/leone abbachio - let's go fairy hunting

🥀🌸 bruno bucciarati/leone abbachio - with each other in mind, stick it out until the end

🌻 dio brando/reader - love is just another leap of faith but i'd jump right in

🌻🌼 bruno bucciarati/leone abbachio - goodnight moon

🌻 dio brando/reader - lets be alone together we can stay young forever

🌼🌻 jotaro kujo/noriaki kakyoin - i will keep on waiting for your love

🥀dio brando/reader - the fate which still remains

🥀🌸 dio brando/reader - asleep in the arms of the soft swinging seas

🌼dio brando/reader - amore mio aiutami

🌼dio brando/reader - i was blind, i couldn't see the world there right in front of me. but now i can

🌻 dio brando/reader - all that is real is you

🌸🌷dio brando/reader - this is what it feels like

🌻enrico pucci/reader - lovers rock the nostalgic love rock

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[yourneondemon]

🥞 Giorno Giovanna 🥞 [01] VIAJE EN METRO (1/2)

Sinopsis: Robin Bárbara Halloween es la nueva mano derecha del gran Giorno Giovanna, jefe de la mafia italiana, Passione, y debe enfrentarse a muchos desafíos y en especial, los castigos que se le impongan. Derramar café sobre su jefe fue un imperdonable error.

Ship: Giorno Giovanna, Robin Bárbara Halloween

Fandom: Jojo's Bizarre Adventure

Recuento de palabras: 5314

*Ser un asistente y mano derecha del mafioso más importante de Italia —y de varios puntos del mundo—, cocinero personal, entre otros títulos por todo lo que debía hacer, era muy complicado; y no solo para su jefe sino para el capo, Bruno Bucciarati y Mista Guido, y el resto del grupo principal, Pannacota Fugo, Abbacchio Leone, Guido Mista y alguien más, le comentaron que era una señorita que trabajaba desde otro lado*.

*La lluvia empezó a las seis de la tarde en Japón, Shibuya, y trotaba pasando por el famoso cruce con varias bolsas de tela en sus manos, había comprado muchísimos productos para cocinar y había ido a ferias para comprar almejas, pescado, verduras, frutas, pulpo, entre otros. Mientras cruzaba por la senda peatonal la lluvia empezaba a acentuarse cada vez más, así que con torpeza sacó su paraguas transparente y siguió su camino hacia la estación de tren*.

*Se trataba de un chico tímido, sensible, cerrado. Sobre su rostro se pintaban por todos lados pecas marrones, pero también tenía lunares enormes de color marrón, casi como unas manchas de vaca. Cabello antes desprolijo y ahora atado en uma coleta de caballo, bien cortadito e impecable. Lo único que le preocupaba era su terrible acné en su rostro, era algo a ver pronto y quería ayudarlo en eso. No era el chico —según los cánones de belleza— más guapo, pero eso le daba completamente igual. Eso sí, con el dinero que recibía por su trabajo quería pagar un tratamiento mejor para su acné en el rostro, espalda y en varias partes del cuerpo que era bastante considerable. Muchas veces el acné que tenía era doloroso cuando se bañaba y pasaba la esponja, y quería arreglar ese enorme problema*.

*Finalmente subió al tren, moderno y con toques elegantes de madera, detalles en dorado, cuadros al óleo entre una mezcla de minimalismo y rococó, le agradaba mucho el ambiente de allí. Pero no se fijó tanto en los detalles ya que tenía el tiempo a cuenta gotas, así que con un pase especial entró a la cocina privada que alquilaron y después de una rutina de higiene general, se lavó las manos, se puso un gorrito plástico para que ningún cabello ni nada caiga a los platos, guantes de látex blancos, un cubrebocas negro, trajesito completo blanco, delantal y se descalzó antes de entrar a la cocina para ponerse zapatos especiales de goma previamente higienizados. Los cuidados aquí eran escenciales y a eso ya lo tenía escrito de arriba para abajo en su día a día y por supuesto, en su trabajo*.

*Sacó de las bolsas todo lo que compró y empezó a cocinar. Hoy en día aparecían más artefactos para cocinar de forma instantánea que ayudaban mucho en la precisión, rapidez y como una manera de agilizar las cosas, pero había técnicas que le gustaba realizar a mano*.

*Pasaron quince minutos, treinta, cuarenta, cincuenta, una hora y seguía realizando las comidas en coordinación con los platillos de la noche, que a su vez incluían los postres, por supuesto. Después de dos horas casi exactas finalmente terminó de hacer todos los platillos para el grupo*.

Robin: Uff... *Suspira con pesadez, le dolía la espalda y un poco la cabeza, así que se toma una pastilla, no quería no terminar sus labores, su jefe notaba cualquier detalle que faltase* Bien. Treinta minutos *Solo tenía treinta minutos para ducharse en su habitación, una pequeñita con una cama pequeña, escritorio con una lámpara esfera, todo muy monoambiente y cómodo. Dejó su bolso con sus pocas pertenencias y se fue a duchar directamente*.

*Fue tan relajante el agua caliente sobre su piel, pero en algunas zonas le dolía así que fue muy cuidadoso. Donde más persistía su acné era en su espalda, se sentía como un chocolate almendrado, que tenía unos cordones montañosos horribles; su mayor complejo. Después de unos diez o trece minutos bajo la ducha, salió, se puso su uniforme propio de Passione y salió del camarote y del tren, arrancaba en la noche*.

Robin: *Fue entonces que vio al auto negro estacionarse frente a él. Apenas se detuvo abrió la puerta de uno de los asientos de atrás, abrió un paraguas negro y sonrió con amabilidad* Buenas noches, señor *Hace una leve reverencia a la vez que lo cubría de la ténue lluvia*.

Giorno: Buenas noches *Baja del auto y cerrando su saco de vestir encajando botón por botón, el viento era bastante helado en esa temporada. Su dorado cabello se agitaba por el viento y sus ojos penetrantes miraban a su alrededor hasta centrarse en el tren estacionado. De los demás compartimientos bajaron el resto del equipo acompañados por otros secretarios* Cenaremos pronto, ¿está todo listo? *Gira su cabeza para dirigirse a su secretario personal*.

Robin: *Abre la boca para responder*.

Giorno: Claro que sí *Y girándose nuevamente ignorando su acto, cruza la calle para finalmente subir al tren con todo su equipo, obviamente Robin fue a su lado cubriéndolo de la lluvia y recogiendo los sacos de cada uno del equipo a medida que entraban*.

Robin: (Vaya, me pagan por ser perchero) *Pensaba como curiosidad, nunca se imaginó tener ese oficio en la vida. Con dificultad cerró el paraguas grande y subió al tren con un cúmulo de ropa en sus brazos y hombros. Las tiró en la mesilla de la entrada y rápidamente fue con Giorno. Conocía bien el protocolo de las veces que llegaba a un lugar, tenía que estar atento a sus movimientos, a lo que quería o le pedía en pequeños códigos si la situación lo ameritaba. Tomó el segundo saco de su jefe apenas hizo el gesto para sacárselo* Permítame, señor *Baja la mirada, debía ser rápido al mismo ritmo que el grupo de personas, en especial su jefe, obvio*.

*El tren arrancó de inmediato*.

Giorno: *Deja que Robin tome su chaqueta y entra junto a Bruno, Abbachio, Narancia y Mista a un bonito comedor, no tan amplio pero elegante, incluso tenía macetas pequeñas dando una vibra natural y relajante. Lámparas de pared, había una pequeña barra de tragos, una televisión, alfombras preciosas, cortinas bordadas y cuadros* Bueno, tomen este viaje como un momento para relajarse, pero reitero, solo un momento *Les regala una sonrisa amable* Bien, mientras viene la comida, hablemos *Movió ligeramente su dedo anular, era la señal para que su secretario/mesero/cocinero y barra muchas otras profesiones, traiga la comida*.

Robin: *Hace una reverencia y se retira del comedor para dirigirse a la cocina. Saca de las neveras los platillos de la entrada, gracias a la práctica podía cargarlos sobre sus brazos y bajarlos sin ningún problema, así que regresó al comedor mostrando sus habilidades. Dejó los primeros platos y por último, a su jefe* Buen provecho *Hace una reverencia y va a la cocina una vez más, toma el vino elegido anteriormente por Abbachio y lo lleva en una bonita caja ornamental*.

*Aún le faltaba práctica y estudio para servir de forma correcta los vinos, pero se esforzaba en sus tiempos libres, era todo un arte. Procedió a mostrarle el vino a Abbachio, quien asintió con la cabeza, así que lo destapó y sirvió medio centímetro en su copa de cristal*.

Abbachio: *Toma la copa y huele el vino, lo prueba, luego sacude circularmente el vaso para que el aroma y sabor cambie. Asiente con la cabeza para indicarle que iba a tomar de esa marca esa noche. Le acercó la copa mientras escuchaba la conversación de sus compañeros y comentaba al respecto*.

Robin: *Sirve con cuidado el vino. La conversación del grupo sonaba divertida y entretenida, reían pero no prestaba atención a detalles, era de mala educación y tampoco le incumbía. Cuando el joven Abbachio levanta su mano, endereza la botella y la deja en una cubeta con hielo. Se aparta de la mesa y se queda parado en la entrada del comedor viendo si necesitaban algo, siempre a la espera de algún llamado. Habían pasado entre quince y veinte minutos desde que sirivió la entrada, y cuando vio el gesto de Giorno fue rápidamente a la cocina para servir el platillo principal*.

Robin: *Al ser platos hondos y más pesados, sí tuvo que llevar uno por mano. Los puso en la mesa, regresó a la cocina y llevó los que faltaban, hasta que la última vuelta fue para su jefe, Giorno Giovanna, jefe de la mafia italiana ¿Cómo terminó trabajando para él? Simplemente se postuló para el trabajo sin saber que se trataba de un jefe tan particular, peculiar. Todo un caso* Buen provecho *Hace una leve reverencia y otra vez se para en la puerta del comedor a esperar más órdenes. Durante la noche llevó platos nuevos con la cena, algunos repitieron incluso tres veces. A la hora del postre el grupo pidió personalmente lo que querían, así que anotó mentalmente cada pedido de cada uno. Regresó a la cocina y llevó los postres ya hechos e hizo lo más rápido los platos que faltaban, a veces no llegaba con los horarios para hacer toda la cartilla* Buen provecho *Comentó suavemente cuando dejó el último plato para su jefe*.

Giorno: *Asiente suavemente con la cabeza en forma de agradecimiento, y sin más, sigue con su charla grupal. Sacaba papeles y documentos, fotografías y más información en una tableta para compartir el caso con su equipo*.

Robin: *Suspira de alivio al ver que todo estaba muy bien, que la noche pasaba tranquila y realizaba su trabajo correctamente, eso significaba que no habría ningún "regaño". Pero no debió adelantarse al diagnóstico. Pasaron treinta minutos después de las variadas repeticiones del postre y ya el grupo prefirió finalizar con café y té. Así que rápidamente y según los pedidos, fue a preparar y hacer el ritual del café en granos y té en hierbas*.

Giorno: *Mientras esperaba su café, guarda los papeles en sus carpetas y cambia de tema para hablar de otras cosas más relajadas*.

Robin: *No tardó mucho en regresar al comedor con su uniforme impecable, coleta de caballo baja y zapatos relucientes, pero hace varios meses ni se imaginaba tener este puesto, esta calidad de ropa. Y tampoco imaginó que iba a cometer un tan simple y pequeño error que lo condenaría esa misma noche. Sirvió el té para Abbachio y Narancia, café con leche para Bruno y Mista Guido, y por último, un expresso para Giorno Giovanna. Sin embargo, de los nervios por estar tan cerca de su jefe junto a sus temblores que ya tenía de por sí, volcó la mitad del expresso sobre el platito de la taza y el mantel blanco bordado con flores* M-mierda. Señor, una disculpa. Déjeme encargarme de esto, le traeré otro *Sacó un trapo de su traje de mesero y limpió lo posible el café de la mesa, pero cuando miró a los ojos a su jefe, vio ese brillo verde tan particular que significaban problemas seguros, "regaño" de los intensos*.

Giorno: Quiero verte en mi oficina después de las doce, le daré una valoración de su desarrollo de la misma profesión que ejerce. Sea puntual.

Robin: *Sus ojos se abrieron como platos al procesar esas oraciones y lo que significaban. Hubo un silencio gutural en el comedor, solo se escucharon pequeños tintineos de los cubiertos reposando sobre los platitos, carraspeos de garganta y el sonido del tren moviéndose. Su corazón dio un vuelco increíble, ¡ni siquiera estaba seguro a qué se refería! ¿Iba a despedirlo? ¿Regañarlo como nunca? ¿Una advertencia? ¿De qué carajos se trataba? Recuperó el aire que perdió en tan pocos segundos y como pudo, asintió con la cabeza tomando la tazita y el paño empapado de café* Sí, señor *Hace una reverencia antes de retirarse de allí casi trotando. Una vez en la cocina, no pudo evitar que sus ojos se cristalicen por el miedo que sentía, no podía permitirse que lo despidiesen, su trabajo significaba un avance en su vida y como persona, necesitaba el dinero para pagar los tratamientos para su piel y una estadía mejor en la ciudad. Y mientras sus manos temblaban como nunca, hizo otro expresso más rápido que el anterior. Tomó aire y le sirvió en una tazita nueva el café a su jefe. Ni siquiera se atrevió a mirarlo* Provecho, y una disculpa, señor *Se apartó sin esperar respuesta*.

Giorno: Retírate. Es todo *Agarra la tazita con cuidado y da los primeros sorbos al expresso, estaba delicioso como siempre*.

Robin: Sí, señor *Hace una reverencia* Buenas noches, caballeros *Se despide del grupo y se va a su camarote. Empezó a llorar apenas cerró la puerta detrás de sí, estaba aterrado por la situación, sentía una verguenza descomunal por hacer el ridículo y se atormentaba con la pregunta de ¿cómo pude cometer semejante error y a estas alturas? Trató de calmarse mientras pasaban los minutos y se quitó el uniforme para colocarse otro que era de estadía, mientras no cumplía ningún servicio por el momento. Procedió a sacar de sus pertenencias una moledora de café con sus granos dentro, un block de notas A5, pluma, cucharitas metálicas y una tazita de vidrio envuelta en papel espumante para evitar que se rompa. No podía relajarse, así que atendió a uno de sus hobies, probar diferentes tipos de cafés. Hoy tenía granos más tostados de cierta marca, y anotaba los cambios de sabor, aroma, entre otras cualidades. Y siempre se guardaba un grano de recuerdo en un mini tapersito para conservarlo mejor. Finalmente su cuerpo se relajó un poco cuando probó el sabor del café, tostado, delicioso. Tomó nota*.

Robin: (Después de las doce, después de las doce, después de las doce...) *No podía quitarse eso de la cabeza, las palabras de su jefe, su tono de voz y en especial su mirada tan penetrante, incluso la de los demás. Aquella situación lo heló y ahora lo atormentaba cada vez más que la hora se acercaba, hasta que finalmente se hicieron las doce de la noche. Esperó cinco minutos y luego se levantó de su cama para salir del camarote. Preguntó donde estaba la pequeña habitación de Giorno, no sabía a fin de cuentas. Cuando estaba detrás de su mismísima puerta, tocó dos veces* Señor, ¿puedo pasar? *Espero unos segundos hasta que escuchó que dijo que sí* ¿Señor? *Pasa finalmente. Desde afuera no parecía grande, pero sí lo era y muy elegante, hermoso* Buenas noches, señor *Lo ve sentado en un sofá doble contra la pared de la pared y detrás la ventana cubierta por cortinas*.

Giorno: *Miraba a Giorno en una cierta oscuridad de la habitación, la sostenían dos lámparas con luz cálida, ténues* Quítate los zapatos *Dice sin siquiera saludarlo o corresponderle*.

Robin: *Asiente con la cabeza y se quita los zapatos. Pasaron varios segundos de puro silencio, se limitaba a frotar sus manos de los nervios*.

Giorno: Desata tu coleta *No despegaba su mirada en él, y no solo observaba su ropa, su postura, comportamiento, quería también medir su resistencia en situaciones tensas*.

Robin: *No duda en hacerlo y deja que su cabello lleno de freeze, esponjoso pero nada suave ni bonito*.

Giorno: Derramaste café sobre mi ropa, ¿sabes lo que significa eso?

Robin: *Asiente con la cabeza y desvía su mirada a un costado, no podía verlo directamente* Lo lamento, señor *Tampoco pudo evitar que sus ojos se cristalicen* Entiendo que fue una falta muy grande *Su voz se quiebra* y entenderé si cree que despedirme es la mejor opción *Baja la cabeza y cubre su cara con una mano* No soy el mejor realmente, creo que hoy lo demostré muy bien *Ya se le estaba cayendo los mocos en forma de agua de su nariz* E-es entendible, es lógico y lo acepto, acepto cualquier crítica y decisión que tome, que de todas formas es mi trabajo, señor *Frota sus párpados ya todos mojados*.

Giorno: *Se levanta del asiento y va con él rápidamente* Robin Bárbara Halloween. No dije ni mencioné nada de despedirte, y ya lo asumiste. Estás llorando por algo que no pasó y que ni siquiera se me ocurrió, cálmate *Apoya su mano sobre su cabeza y acariciarla con cuidado* Ven, siéntate *Toma su mano para conducirlo al sofá de antes, se sienta y sienta al joven sobre sus muslos* No te voy a despedir, no sé de dónde sacas todo ese drama. Pero si escribieses un libro te harías famoso y millonario de tremendas historias que te inventas *Saca de su bolsillo varios pañuelos y le limpia los mocos*.

Robin: *Aunque poco a poco se calmaba por sus palabras ya se había alterado, le era complicado calmar su respiración* S-si, lo lamento señor. C-creí que- *Dejaba que limpie su nariz y con otros pañuelos los ojos* En serio lo creí. Lo lamento. Es jefe de una mafia *Baja la cabeza*, si no te sirve alguien lo despides y ya, otros lo matarían o podrían a la servidumbre *Frota sus ojos*.

Giorno: *Aunque le dolía de cierta manera la imagen que tenía de él, pues Diavolo se encargó de esparcir calamidad en toda Italia y a otras partes del mundo, tampoco era una sorpresa que mucha gente vea a Giorno como el próximo dictador, pero él no era así y nunca lo sería. Entendía los motivos de Robin y es por eso que quería hacerle ver que él es otra persona. Bueno, mafía igual a dinero, drogas, extorción, dolor, abusos y todo el lado oscuro de la humanidad, ¿qué podía esperar que la gente creyera? Ya hicieron una enorme limpieza de personal apenas asumió su cargo, ahora debían limpiar la ciudad de drogas y la imagen que dan. Para no preocuparlo, le regaló una pequeña sonrisa* Hey, no voy a ponerte en la servidumbre ni mucho menos matarte. No soy un mafioso hijo de la gran puta como en las películas o como muchos dicen *Da un suspiro* Y con respecto a tu trabajo, iba a decirte que hoy te luciste. Manejaste bien la situación cuando volcaste café, en las primeras semanas de prueba cuando te contraté no dejabas de temblar, llorar, ponerte nervioso, y hoy no lo hiciste. Sí maldijiste, eso no me gustó. Debes pedir disculpas pero no maldecir, porque los modales y el respeto hacia las demás personas te define.

Robin: *Asiente con la cabeza* Sí, señor. Una disculpa por eso *Da un suspiro más profundo, ya su respiración se calmaba*.

Giorno: ¿Cómo voy a despedir a un secretario tan lindo? *Estira sus brazos y lo abraza de la cintura para acercarlo más a su cuerpo, aprovechaba que cogió altura en estos dos últimos años y con los entrenamientos, una buena masa muscular* Cuando lloras siempre te tiembla el labio inferior.

Robin: *Sus mejillas se tornan muy rojas y ahora una media sonrisa temblorosa* J-jefe, no diga eso *Desvía su mirada ya riéndose, cubre otra vez su cara con su mano de la timidez*.

Giorno: *Sonríe al verlo* Mmh.. Que de hecho, ¿cómo podrías siquiera pensar que con esta relación que llevamos te puedo despedir? *Apoya su frente a la suya siguiendolo con la mirada, su pobre secretario trataba de esconder su cabeza lo posible* Mírame, es una orden de tu superior.

Robin: *Poco a poco levanta su cabeza hasta poder verlo a los ojos* Pero no d-digas.. e-esas cosas, q-que me pongo nervioso.

Giorno: Lo sé *Levanta su mentón con mucha delicadeza* Vas a ir a clases de oratoria y a un fonoaudiólogo. No debes pagar nada, pero quiero que mejores tu hablar, me preocupa cada vez que te escucho *Pasa su mano por su mejilla, no le importaba si sentía la textura de su acné* Y te pediré turno para ir a un dermatólogo, ¿te duele cuando te bañas?

Robin: Señor, no tiene que hacer esto. Me refiero, es muy costoso, solo soy un secretario sin importancia y-

Giorno: *Su sonrisa se borra y levanta su dedo índice frente a su cara* Última vez que dices eso, Robin Bárbara Halloween.

Robin: *Se sorprende por su mirada y tono de voz* Sí, jefe. Tiene razón *Da un suspiro*.

Giorno: *Acomoda un par de mechones que cubrían su cara* Ven, acuéstate, quiero pasar más tiempo contigo. Mañana hay las mil y un reuniones y no quiero pensar en ello ahora. Ven *Palmea sus muslos* Apoya tu cabeza y cálmate. Será un viaje largo. Nadie va a entrar aquí sin tocar la puerta, les dije a los demás que estaría durmiendo.

Robin: ¿E-está seguro? M-me re-refiero a- *Es interrumpido de repente*.

Giorno: Robin, es una orden *Mira al joven de una manera especial, con una sonrisa de Monalisa. Acomoda su cabello rubio aunque se había puesto gel en la parte de la frente, lo tenía bastante largo y ya merecía un buen corte*.

Robin: S-si, disculpa jefe *Con timidez, se recuesta en el sofá y reposa su cabeza sobre los muslos de su superior* S-si... Si se siente incómodo, p-puedo retirarme cuando quiera *Lo mira con un poco de verguenza por la situación*.

Giorno: Robin, *Acerca su mano a la mejilla del joven que estaba temblando* cálmate, me pones nervioso cuando estás nervioso, siento que te dará algo todo el tiempo *No pudo evitar una sonrisa suave de su parte, pícara e incluso algo atrevida* ¿Ye te he dicho que eres una vaca muy linda? *Su mano se desliza hasta su cuello y acariciar con su pulgar su mentón y papada*.

Robin: *Cerró sus labios entre sí del nerviosismo, no creía que su jefe en un momento como este tomara este papel que pocas veces en la semana lo tomaba en su oficina, los dos solos. Giorno desde las primeras semanas que estuvo con él enseñándole las rutinas y protocolos en las diferentes instalaciones de Passione, fue agarrando este comportamiento más atrevido pero delicado, hasta el punto que se llegaron a besar varias veces en total secreto. Era extraño este "contrato", este código entre los dos, pero no le desagradaba, y Gio lo sabía. Obviamente muy por dentro no iba a admitir que no quería despegarse de esta relación especial, ¿qué había de malo en esto? ¿qué consecuencias traería besar al jefe de la mafia italiana?* N-no lo sé... *Desvía su mirada por verguenza, su cercanía era bastante próxima*.

Giorno: *No dejaba de acariciar la mejilla de Robin con suavidad, y algo que le gustaba mucho hacer para no solo molestarlo, sino enseñarle a estar en alerta todo el tiempo, era hacerle unas pequeñas cosquillas en sus orejas o en la nuca, y eso quería hacer ahora. Así que procedió a rascar suavemente una de sus orejas pecosas* ¿Que qué no sabes? ¿Que eres una vaca muy bonita?

Robin: ¡Gh! *Se sorprende por el tacto y rápidamente empieza a reírse, tenía una risa particular que incluso podía hacer reír a los demás. Era suavesita y rápida, a veces solo cerraba la boca para reír en una pronunciada "m", al ser tan sensible no podía controlarse mucho* J-jefe, ¡jijiji! Por favor *Eleva sus caderas sin poder evitar patalear* ¡Jijiji! M-maldición, por favor *Dice entre sus risitas, a veces cuando tomaba aire se le escuchaba un ronquido como de cerdito y eso le daba muchísima verguenza*.

Giorno: (Adorable) *Su sonrisa desaparece de inmediato al escucharlo y detiene sus movimientos* ¿Maldición? Esa palabra no te la enseñé nunca y no creo que esté en tu diccionario. No me gustó nada. Es la segunda vez que te escucho decirla en el día *Inclina su torso levemente hacia al frente para acercar su rostro al de su acompañante, no despegaba sus ojos de los suyos, quería intimidarlo, presionarlo* Nada.

Robin: *Se cubre la boca cuando se detiene, estaba sorprendido por su palabra* L-lo siento mucho, jefe, no quería... ¡No está en mi diccionario, lo juro! Lo siento, lo siento mucho *Mueve sus manos negando todo, ahora sí su corazón dio un vuelvo tremendo. Giorno sí le hizo pasar en esos dos meses a prueba varias situaciones donde debía mantener la calma, paciencia, tolerancia, pero nunca lo castigó. Ahora su mirada era diferente de las muchas que vio en él, su expresión indicaba que estaba molesto de verdad y que recibiría un castigo digno de su nivel*.

Giorno: ¿Cuestionas lo que escuché? ¿Me cuestionas? *Un aura dorada aparece alrededor de su cuerpo, brillaba solo para la vista de ambos* No te muevas o me harás enfadar más... *Seguía sus ojos como un láser, no iba a dejarlo estar tranquilo hoy, quería divertirse. Estaban solos en el compartimiento ¿por qué desperdiciar esta oportunidad?*.

Robin: ¡E-eh! ¡No no no! D-digo- *Es interrumpido una vez más*.

Giorno: Dije que no te muevas, otra desobediencia más e irás acumulando puntos, secretario *Golden Experience Requiem se manifiesta en la pequeña habitación. Aunque Robin no tenía un stand, raramente podía verlo y eso lo descubrió en su primera entrevista de trabajo, había pegado tremendo grito al ver -dicho con sus propias palabras- un fantasma de ojos saltones* Y ahora, aguanta las consecuencia de tus actos *Sacó de un compartimiento pequeño del posabrazos un cigarrillo electrónico, no succionaba ni aspiraba nada ya que no tenía esa función, solo largaba vapor de vez en cuando para simular un cigarro, tenía una apariencia realista y dar esa impresión*.

Robin: S-si, je- *Pero no pudo terminar, Golden Experience lo tomó de las muñecas directamente para extender sus brazos dejando su torso totalmente expuesto y por consecuencia, su uniforme se había levantado varios cenímetros dejando ver parte de su barriga marrón por su lunar gigante* ¡E-eh!

Giorno: Robin Bárbara Halloween. Les dije a los demás que te iba a dar un fuerte regaño por el accidente en el comedor, así que *Le manda a su stand que saque de su mochila una cinta plástica de las que usabas para embalar cajas*, no puedes dar gritos tan fuertes *Corta un trozo de la cinta y junta sus muñecas para atarlas dándole varias vueltas* Y me gustaría empezar... No, de hecho GER lo hará *"Fuma" de su cigarrillo falso y apoya su espalda en el sofá mientras miraba a Robin como si de un espectáculo se tratase*.

Robin: E-espere, señor *Niega con la cabeza suplicando con su mirada y sacudiéndose un poco* Q-quizás p-po-... podamos ha-hablarlo.

GER: *El stand hace presencia para no dejar de verlo a los ojos, y él ya tenía unos muy saltones. No esperó mucho más y pasó sus dedos por el cuello del pobre pecoso, rascaba tan apenitas que su esfuerzo era nada*.

Giorno: Mírame.

Robin: *Niega con la cabeza aún riendo por los toques* ¡N-no! ¡Jajajaja! *GER bajó sus brazos y los mantuvo firme sobre su torso, así evitar que los hombros bloqueen el paso*.

Giorno: Mírame, es una orden.

Robin: ¡Jijijijiji! P-por favor *Niega con la cabeza y eleva su torso en forma de protesta a lo que su jefe aprovechí para cruzarse e pierna y mantener su vientre arriba con su rodilla, obligarlo a exponerlo* ¡Jijiji! J-Jefe, por favor *Pide ayuda mirando a Giorno, pero su única respuesta fue devolverle una sonrisa satisfactoria, de poder y superioridad*.

Robin: *Su destino estaba bien marcado, no tuvo ni la oportunidad de seguir quejándose. GER pasó una de sus manos para levantar su cuello y llevar su cabeza hacia atrás, ahora tenía un gran terreno muy sensible a su disposición* ¡No! ¡No! ¡No, por favor! ¡WUAJAJAJAJAJAJAJAJAJAJA! *Los labios del bello y majestuoso stand besaban y soplaban sobre la piel pecosa del joven, causándole terribles cosquillas* ¡GYA! ¡JAJAJAJAJAJA! *Sacudía su cuerpo como podía, pero lo retenía muy bien el stand casi abrazándolo. Por un momento dejó un lado y cambió al otro, y le sensación fue en aumento como su tono de voz* ¡GYAAAA! ¡JAJAJAJAJA! ¡J-jefe° ¡Por favor! ¡JAJAJAJAJAJA! *Patalea bastante más, pero nada podía hacer*.

Giorno: *Mientras "fumaba", veía a su pobre secretario pagando las consecuencia de sus errores* Parece que lo disfrutas, entonces no te molestaría que esto se extendiera un poco más, ¿no es así? Me gusta que tu cuello sea tan sensible *Se inclina levemente para verlo mejor* y ahora debes ser más atento cuando camines por ahí, puede que una brisa te toque sin querer *Acomoda su cabello un poco hacia atrás, un buen corte no le sentaría mal*.

Robin: ¡Jijijiji! Uff... uff... *Pudo tomar varias bocanadas de aire cuando GER dejó de besarlo y mientras reposaba su cabeza en el almohadón del sofá, sentía las caricias suaves en su hombro, era un gesto amable que apreciaba mucho* J-juro que no... voy a derramar... café otra vez, p-practicaré *Lo mira un poco cansado*.

Giorno: *Aún sonriéndole* Me encantaría seguir, pero estoy cansado y debo trabajar mucho mañana *Estira su brazo y lee la hora en su reloj digital de la muñeca* Mh. Bueno, tenemos media hora más.

Robin: ¿E-eh? *Abre sus ojos muy sorprendido* P-pero, pero, ¿n-no debe dorm- *No, no pudo ni terminar su pregunta, GER ya lo abrazó otra vez, sostuvo bien fuerte y dio soplidos, frambuesas sobre su cuello, debajo de sus orejas, e incluso se atrevió a morder su piel* ¡NYAAAA! ¡JAJAJAJAJAJAJAJA! ¡NOOO! ¡JAJAJAJA! ¡POR FAVOR!! ¡JAJAJAJAJAJAJAJA! ¡J-JEFE!

Giorno: *Levanta su mano para que GER se detenga, ayuda a Robin a enderezarse y de paso le regala un pequeño beso en el lóbulo de su oreja. Se pone de pie dejando al joven en el sofá, aún agitado y con todo el cabello desordenado. Se prepara un té de mientras* Vaya a descansar, secretario. Mañana será un día cargado *Habla dándole la espalda y dejando su saco en un perchero*.

Robin: S-sí, señor *Endereza su espalda y descansa unos segundos en el mismo lugar donde Gio se sentó* ¡Gh! *Repentinamente GER estaba a su lado respirando sobre su cuello, incluso su aliento le hacía ligeras cosquillas. A veces deseaba no ser tan sensible*.

Giorno: *Da pasos hacia adelante y toma de su mentón para levantarlo* Y no solo porque tienes que estar el doble de atento de ahora en adelante, *Estira su dedo índice, hace poco se hizo la manicura, unas uñas esculpidas verde oscuro terminando en punta* sino que GER reclamará de tu atención y servicios. Es un stand caprichoso y con un gran apetito, no se alimenta de excusas ni errores, porque sino... *Pasa suavemente la punta de su uña desde el mentón de Robin hasta su clavícula* sabrá cada una de tus zonas más sensibles y delicadas, cualquiera que quieras ocultar, él lo sabrá y me lo dirá a mí ¿entiendes eso, Barbie?

Robin: *A veces se sorprendía por el color tan brillante de su jefe, daba una sensación como ninguna otra y ahora se sentía intimidado, nervioso, aplastado por él y su stand* S-si... señor *Traga con dificultad, el toque hizo que haga una mueca por el escalofrío y cosquilleo*.

Giorno: *Le pide a su stand que desaparezca y en menos de un segundo, hizo caso. Camina hasta la pequeña cocinita y se sirve el té* Hasta mañana, secretario.

Robin: *Su corazón latía constantemente una vez llegó a su propio camarote ¿Pero qué demonios había sido todo eso?* A-ay no *Se cubre la cara con las manos, estaba nerviosísimo por mañana, debía tener cuidado mientras hacía su trabajo ¿más que ahora? ¡no puede ser! Para despejar su cabeza fue a darse una ducha caliente. Todos esos besos, la boca de GER sobre su piel, los susurros, la mirada de su jefe, empezaba a hacerle... cierto efecto físico y emocional, pero ¿hasta qué punto era bueno este jugueteo mututo? No quizo resolver esa duda, solo se limitó a acurrucarse en la lluvia caliente y el vapor, que era el momento más relajante del día*.

Las ilustraciones que aparezcan son hechas por mí, son de mi propiedad. Instagram Agash_Rotddom Las ilustraciones de fondos o paisajes son propiedad de sus propios autores, los links de sus trabajos están enlazados.

[nicherayyy]

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