#leone abbacchio fluff

[chronicallyonline101]

OH WAIITERRR!!! May i have your finest glass of leone abbacchio x reader pretty please! One where the reader finds Abbacchio beat up on the curbside only to find out he got into some kind of bar fight! So she pulls up and is like "Again??! Get in," and takes him home, patches him up, FLUFFY STUFF!! WITH A CHERRY ON TOP

ORDER UP!!! Here is your glass i do hope you enjoy! (i wrote this on mobile so if the formatting is weird thas why soz pooks(

Nights of White Satin

Leone Abbacchio x reader || Oneshot, Fluff

You traced your thumb along the bottom of his bruised lip; bloody, illuminated by nothing but an old, flickering streetlamp in the midst of a sad, gloomy night. His purple lipstick had long since worn off, but the mottled blue's of his injuries did well to replace it. Despite how you tried to peer at him, his eyes always managed to evade yours - glued to the ground in what was a mixture of shame and fury welling together in an ombre cocktail.

Cars flew by behind you. Tires screeching against wet concrete, the thrum of engines and splashing puddles but none of it mattered. You fixated on the man in front of you with clear concern. Concern that only had him biting his cheek with disinterest.

"Leone... what happened?" You leant closer to him, a frown settled across your lips as you gently moved your hand to cup at his delicate cheek and redirect his gaze toward yourself.

For a moment, Abbacchio allowed himself the comfort of your presence; leaning into your touch like a feline starved of affection, but when your fingers brushed across a stinging open wound he hissed in a breath through his teeth and reeled backward. Now grounded, he reprimanded himself for getting so comfortable and took to curling his hands into fists.

"It's nothing," He grouched, turning his gaze to the floor once again. "Just some work things. You know how it is."

You leant back a little, swallowing thickly. Of course... Abbacchio's 'work'. The thing you would call organised criminal activity was just a normal Tuesday for him - to no avail, looking at him here, sat in the gutter with a broken wine bottle to his side... you felt that perhaps what had happened was less serious than what he was making it out to be.

With a short, frustrated huff, you stood upright. Hands on your hips as you looked up wistfully. The sky was clouded, not that it mattered; you could never see the stars in the city, but the sight of such gloom reminded you of how unsafe it was to be on these streets of Napoli late into the night.

"You got into another fight again, didn't you?"

He winced at your question. Tensing when he felt your gaze turn accusatory. There was no way he could deny it. The amount of times you'd find him in this condition - or worse - had made such a task impossible. Instead, he let out a groan and while burying his head into his hands mumbled:

"He made fun of my hair."

His words were followed by a shameful silence.

You sighed, pinching at your temple before decidely shoving a hand into your pocket and fumbling about for your car keys. Abbacchio lifted his gaze to watch you. After a few seconds, you pried the jangling things from your pocket and pressed at a button to unlock your car which had been hastily parked atop of a curb only a few feet away.

You turned toward the vehicle with a fervent urgency. "Come on then."

His brows furrowed, and for a moment he remained still, watching with an intense glower while you clicked open the door to the drivers seat and hopped inside.

Upon realising he hadn't followed, you honked the car horn at him with urgency. It was with that, he slowly arose to his feet; wobbling unsteadily for a few seconds. Glass crunched beneath his shoes as he walked toward the passenger seat to your car, and as he took his place beside you.

You stuffed the key into the ignition, twisted, and soon the two of you were off. At first, the atmosphere in the car was silent. Filled only by the gentle rumbling of its engine, but it was too much for Abbacchio. Silence meant thought, and right now he didn't want to deal with his thoughts.

So he spoke: "What are you doing?"

"Taking you home." A small huff left your nose, condensating against the cold air. Your grip around the wheel tightened, praying to anything out there that he would drop it at that.

You wanted to help him, but he was so damn stubborn. When his brows rose in distress, you knew he'd put up a fight:

"You don't know where I live." He griped, and crossed his arms over his chest in disobedience. He cocked his head in the direction of the window, watching with hazy yellowish eyes as the flashing world passed by.

Another sigh passed your lips as you admitted defeat. "My home. We're going to my home, Leone."

"Why? I don't want to---"

"---I'm trying to help you. Please... let me help."

For a moment, you risked peeling your eyes away from the road. Wide and pleading, you watched longingly while he glared out the window beside him. His silver hair glimmered prettily against the night sky; the moons shadow befell him like a cotton blanket and even in a roughed up, bloody state he was so... perfect. So radiant. An image of tragedy yet glowing with hope.

"Your my friend." You decidely went on. "And I like you."

And at your words, Abbacchio bit into his bottom lip to hide a whimper of utter sorrow.

A friend. His friend. You were his friend.

The venomous thorns of guilt coiled around his heart like a snake; he was wreaked with shame. You were so good to him, such a kind, loving person and here he was - a criminal. A delinquent.

How many times had you found him at the side of the road? How many times had you welcomed him into the warmth of your home? Bathed his wounds in salt? Patched him up with a hug and a pat on the back?

It was sickening, to think of how often you opened your heart to him and how little he gave back. Every night he found himself here with you he put you in danger, it was cruel and selfish, and yet he loved every second of it. As nonchalant as he tried to be, he loved the attention you gave him.

Such is why, though he grumbled and complained, he never once stopped you from taking him home. Never halted his footing as he traipsed along behind you and never snatched your housekeys from your palms; he watched curiously all the while you welcomed him into your abode, sitting with compliance on your couch as you ushered about in the dark to try and a first aid kit.

When you finally settled down beside him, there was a small cotton ball clutched between your fingers. Doused in isopropyl alcohol; you lifted it up to gently press at an open wound. He winced and flinched backward,

"You need to stop getting into these fights." You tutted at him, relocating the cotton ball to his lip where you then cleared away his smudging lipstick.

There was a huff, but he moatly stayed silent. Leaning into your touch. Your eyes lifted to meet his, curious and attentive; he swallowed thickly, adams apple bobbing against the curve of his neck. The room grew warm while you held each others glaze, and with a light, awkward cough you broke away from the stare to dash the now red cotton ball to the side.

"Did you get hurt badly?"

He scoffed, turning his head to look to the side. "No. I left him worse for wear."

There was a short laugh. A rare sound, coming from him; and though it was quiet, it was honest. It told you he wasn't as grumpy as he made himself out to be and at that, you smiled.

"Mm. I feel bad. Maybe I should go back and help him out too, eh?" You laughed at your own joke, reaching down to grab at some gauze for his wounds.

You heard him grunt above you and failed to notice the expression of discomfort that befell his face. "I'd rather you stay, actually... I like you being here."

You paused. Lifting yourself up to look him in the eyes, brow quirked in a smug perplexion.

"You like it when I patch you up?" You leant closer to him; you could feel his breath fanning against your face, his breath once again hitching at your sudden closeness. He could feel heat rising to his cheeks.

His lips parted for a moment. He thought that perhaps you were going to go further. That maybe, you'd press your lips to his... but you didn't. He was left sourly dissapointed when instead you took to pressing the gauze against his wounded cheek.

"I do." He mumbled.

He went quiet, after that. Growing shy, unsure of himself or what he was even saying. He was pretty drunk, to be fair; he'd likely regret how mushy he was getting, but right now he was happy. He was content. His body ached like a battered banana, but every touch your fingers danced upon his fair skin had him leaning closer with serenity.

When you were done cleaning him up you packed away the first aid kit and he watched for a while as you teetered about putting things away and preparing both of you tea. He hovered behind you for a while and once you were done, wormed his way into your bed; the two of you shared it for the night because, well, he was injured and needed the bed and it was stupid to let you get a bad back on the couch because of stupid societal norms regarding bed sharing. And if he did reach out to hold you in the night, so what?

Abbacchio liked you a lot. He hated having you worry for him so much, but... he also loved how you treated him. It was gentle. Loving; thing's he could never have as a skilled mafioso. It was selfish for him to seek you out like this but at the same time, he knew he wouldn't stop. He'd get into more bar fights, he'd find himself in more scuffles and at the end of each day, he'd find himself in your house; your embrace; he'd find himself wrapped in your love.

(I HOPE THIS IS GOOD!!! IF NOT I CAN CHANGE IT PLS LMK!!!! to the ppl that sent in the Kira and Melone reqs I'm almost done with them! :) im just being lazy)

[danddymaro]

A sweetheart | Leone Abbacchio x reader

idek. 

Based on the most mundane parts of The golden wind boy’s daily activates. 

No angst

Word Count: 2742

A sweetheart

The day has gone by normally, which didn’t bother you too much. 

Most of the gang was all gathered at Libeccio, the reserved table you sat in attended to with the utmost dedication as a form of gratitude offered by the owner, moreso to Bucciarati himself than anyone else.

Everyone is there, all aside from your leader who had informed you he had to take care of a matter before you left for your upcoming assignment. 

So you had time to sit down and enjoy the moment with your friends.

Narancia and Fugo are huddled close, going over a new handwritten assignment the blonde had taken the time to create.

 Mista sits to one of your sides. 

He occasionally listens, a bored look to his face as he calmly eats his favorite dish, though finding it lacking since it’s the same thing he orders every time he goes.

Abbacchio sits to your other side, his cheek pressed against his knuckles as he enjoys the personal concerto his headphones provide. 

- Nothing interesting happens until a pencil snaps.

It’s all tranquil until Fugo erupts, his voice obnoxiously loud as he glares down at Narancia who challenges him back, making you grimace. 

You can feel a cold sweat of embarrassment coat you, and you just hope no one has to come back and remind you that this is a respected establishment and not some dingy back ally.

The two men on your either side each have their own reactions. 

Reluctantly, Leone pulls the left side of his headphones back, listening while Mista seems just a bit more enthusiastic. 

After all, he’s getting dinner and a show, and he seems grateful for the entertainment.

“Dibs on Fugo,” Guido says quickly, nearly stumbling over his words, making Leone grumble, “ I guess I’ll take Narancia,” He says, having no other option.

“What are you betting on this time,” you tiredly ask, your expression lightly soured. 

Mista keeps his eyes on the two across while he speaks, “ We’re betting on who’s gonna lose their cool first and swing,” he says. 

“You’re kidding right?” you ask with wonder. “ Once Fugo snaps, he’s defiantly striking first,” you say, looking at Abbacchio. 

“- And you think Narancia is the one to go with?” you say with a raised brow, making Leone huff. 

“Only other option was taken,” he says annoyed. 

Meanwhile, the other two continue to bicker.  

Fugo stands first, looking down at Narancia with a violent gaze that unexpectantly melts. 

As quickly as it heated, it suddenly turned cold, just as his voice, 

“I don’t even know why I bother with you,” he then said, surprising everyone with how collected he seems. 

“-You Idiot,” he huffs “You’re a lost cause-” and Narancia has nothing to say. 

Instead, he stays quiet, looking up at Fugo with wide eyes that soon dash away, which is yet another surprise to all of you.

“Whatever...” he says back, not knowing anything else better to say.

The blonde then shakes his head, stalking away and leaving the room filled with a thick tension that felt suffocating.

“That was new....” Mista said while releasing a low whistle, scratching his cheek.

.

.

.

"What a fucking idiot," Leone grumbled, the insult making Narancia's shoulders sink, the snapped pencil in his hand held tightly after he took hold of it again, and as you suspected he was left sensitive over the argument.

It takes a lot to quiet him down, that’s for sure, and when he did it was serious.

"Abbacchio," you started, disappointment in your tone as you eyed him. 

You were ready to stand and go to Narancia to comfort him when Leone stood from his seat instead, his hands in his pockets as he released a low, tired sigh that made it seem like it took everything out of him to rise.

As he came to Narancia's side he spoke, " Not him, I mean Fugo." he clarified, surprising both Narancia and you. 

"Of course, he knows what he's doing," There was no question about it. 

"He's a genius...so The way he's explaining it to you makes sense to him, but not you right?" The long-haired male asked as he loomed over Narancia.

At that, Narancia nodded, "yeah..I swear Abbacchio, I'm really trying this time," he says while craning his head back to look at the other male.

 Granted he messed around, but not then.

He’d managed to learn his multiplication tables, and had advanced quite a bit, moving on to a bit of the harder parts where new formulas were involved.

"But I don't think Fugo believes that," he added, dejected.

"Well, That's what happens when you fuck around so much," Leone responded his words tarty, understanding how the other man could get so frustrated.

"Still..." he then added because he didn’t entirely with the way fugo chose to express it.

"Make sure to take notes this time, And if you're lost ask because I'm only giving you this one chance," he warned as he started, his finger skimming over the first question. 

His voice was firm, clear, yet somehow... soft as he verbalized a walkthrough of the steps needed.

You listened as Abbacchio went through the material with Narancia, and if you were being honest, there was something endearing about it.  

- maybe even sexy.

'he's a good tutor...' you mused, your eyes drawn to him, the entire time forgetting about your food.

You were stuck in a trance, one that broke once you heard Narancia's elated voice break through the tranquil atmosphere. 

"No way!" he said as he looked down at his answer, his eye shining as he saw Abbacchio's pleased smile. 

"it makes sense!" he cheered.

"You did good," Leone then praised before he decided to move back, "If you get lost just look back at your notes," he recommended as he traveled back to his former seat beside you.

He brushes shoulders with Mista as the dark haired male stands before the dessert cart, eyeing it with a pout as he considers what would be a good dessert.

- He’d lost interest the second he heard math.

Throughout the move, you couldn't help but stare, perhaps too intensely.

‘Big meanie did something nice...’ you inwardly mused with a tiny, suppressed giggle.

"And just What are you laughing at?" Abbacchio grumbles while he takes his seat again, his stare narrowed as he challenges your gaze. 

It doesn't scare you in any way as the hint of bitterness is so obviously a mask to hide how flustered he is.

"Me?" you huff, trying not to smile any harder, especially as out of the corner of your eye you see Narancia continue to look down at the sheet before him, scribbling down his new answers.  

A triumphant look is worn in place of his usual, pensive one that more often than not morphs into exasperation.

At the sight, warmth fills your chest and it’s a wonderful feeling.

"-Nothing," you finally say while  the spongy sweet before you is delicately picked at with consideration to what will be your first bite. 

"nothing at all," you add as you finally find the right start, slowly dipping your fork into your little dessert. 

"I just thought it was cute..." you casually admitted while continuing to look down at your treat, missing the immediate flourish of color that filled his face. 

Before he can find something to say fugo returns, his expression softened from the previous agitated one he'd sported, "Hey....Narancia," he softly murmured as he walked in. 

He seemed sheepish, moreso regretful and you supposed a 40 minute break would do that to anyone.

"About what I said..." he added, "I'm...sorry," he said while taking a seat next to the older male. 

"I didn't mean it ; you actually have a lot of potential." he complimented, taking back his earlier comment. 

“especially for someone with such a limited amount of education... In fact, I have to admit you've improved in every other subject. " he insisted, and the praise had the dark-haired boy's entire demeanor perk.

“ It says a lot that we’re working on this now,” he further adds. 

"Y-You mean it Fugo?" Narancia asked, his voice touched with excitement that someone as smart as Pannacotta had praised his intellect - something that had never happened before. 

There was a reason why he hadn't been too concerned about dropping out of school in the first place. Amongst many other things, it frustrated him when he didn't understand much, and he had no trouble letting go of that headache.

"Of course I do, That's why I get so annoyed," the blonde spoke, "I know you can do it, and it seems like we’re both falling short of our capabilities,” he expressed. 

“ I'm just sorry it gets the best out of me," he said before looking down at the sheet Narancia had been working on. 

"Anyways, lets ke-" his words fell short as he picked up the practice work, then the notebook on its side where new notes had been added. 

New handwriting decorates the page, and it catches his eye. 

His violet eyes brightened as he skimmed over the pages, and even as they were directed back to his friend, "Narancia, you did this?" he said with an obvious swell of awe as he finds himself going over each new answer.

"I sure did," the teen said with a sure nod, briefly turning back to the eldest male that sat with them, " Abbacchio helped me with it. He broke it down for me just a bit more," he elaborated. 

“He gave me different examples too,”

"You're kidding..." Fugo breathed as he looked at Leone, his face melting into true gratefulness. 

" I didn't know mathematics was a strong suit for you," he said, amazed at the notes that showed a full comprehension. It was one thing to get the answers right, it was another to show such detailed work in more ways than one.

- enough to dumb it down so much.

 Abbacchio softly sighed, "- I was top of my class too..." he revealed.

It's not like he expected anyone to know since he's never mentioned it, but even then he always assumed everyone else would catch on that he wasn't just some  idiot.

 "An overachiever," he added with a bit of embarrassment, not mentioning how much of a dork he really had been.

"And every now and then I had to tutor some idiot after class," he recalled.  

"so...You could've been a teacher, or had gotten some other lame job, " Narancia pointed out, "- like at some boring bank," he snickered,  making Abbacchio chuckle. 

The number of times his mother had tried to talk him into working in finances had, had him weary.

"I could have..." Leone started, "But I wanted to do something else with my life," he admitted while looking down at nothing. 

"I thought I..." he couldn't finish, his lips pursing as he thought about how he'd messed up. 

He shook his head of the incoming thoughts before he leaned back on his seat, "Anyways, don't get used to it," he said while glaring at the two other males, his tone changing in just a second.

"I'm not here to babysit anyone, or hold anyone's hand," he grumbled, his tarty words flying over Fugo and Narancia's heads as they simply grinned, realizing that no matter what he said, at the end of the day, he'd helped out. 

"so you got the hang of it?" Pannacotta then asked Nararancia. 

"Yeah, yeah," he responded, waving him off and continuing with what was left of the worksheet.

Meanwhile, you stand, making your way toward the dessert cart. Instantly, you eye the vibrant red that sits over a coat of creamy frosting.

'perfect,' you think as you reach for it, beating Mista as he finally decides what to get. 

"Hey!" his complaint is ignored as you make your way over to your seat, but not without a stop.

As Abbacchio continues to listen to his music again, he has his eyes closed, drowning in the sound before he feels a tap on his shoulder. To accompany it is a familiar scent of perfume that gently tickles his nose, and instantly perks his chin up. 

A warm body brushes him, and without any other indication, he knows the presence, reacting to it with the most subtle hint of warmth. 

 Upon opening his eyes, he's greeted with the sight of a dessert being served, and as he turns slightly he sees you reaching over him from behind.

As you begin to retreat, he sees your smile and much more the darling twinkle in your eye that has him in awe.

The question in his gaze is too easy to read, and to give him some ease you linger close, your voice both coy and secretive, 

"That's for being a sweetheart," you say as you decide to pull back, walking passed your seat with the intention of leaving.

Perhaps you wouldn't have had the boldness if you weren't sure you were moments from leaving, already having someone waiting for you. 

You had noticed the new arrival just a minute before, letting you know it was time to go.

Bucciaratti stands at the doorway with his arms crossed, leaning against the arch, looking over with amusement as he watches your interaction with the other man. 

And while to everyone else at the table, you seemed to saunter away with all of the confidence of the world, Bruno could see the absolute fluster that consumed you, making him turn away with a little snicker. 

You seem almost dazed as you reach him, and he softly tuts.

 " I see you’re enjoying yourself," he comments, giving you space to walk out first, choosing the gentlemanly route of following behind. 

"Enjoying what," you say while battling a smile, trying to look cool and unaffected. 

"Teasing him so much," the dark-haired male says with a huff, briefly looking back to find Leone being shaken by mista as he takes the man's shoulders in his hands, moving him back and forth with an animated way of speaking. 

- and while Bruno can't really hear what he's saying, he just knows he's praising him. 

It all happens as Fugo and Narancia laugh, pointing at the elder male's face that blooms red.

You just know that the others are messing with him, and A flash of guilt hits you before it morphs into delight. 

"you don't know all of the things he does to me," you say while shaking your head. 

Abbacchio plays with subtle cruelty like he enjoys watching your stomach knot and your mouth dry in response to him. 

- Just recalling makes you feel less guilty.

,

,

Leone's face is practically glowing, the smile that stretches over his face unbelievably exaggerated as he continues to come closer. He's so distracted he doesn't notice that Bruno is on the opposite end of the hallway, forced to come to a halt before they bump into each other. 

"Well this is a surprise," Bruno mutters with a raised brow. " you're in a good mood," he teases while taking a step back to admire his friend's jovial mood. 

"If I'd have to guess, I'd say it has something to do with the message I just received," he remarks, going as far as to bring it out of his pocket. 

"Bucciarati, he's such a jerk," he reads your message out loud, briefly bringing his eyes back up to the man who continues to smile. 

"You,  I assume," he said with certainty, and it makes Leone smirk. 

"What can I say," he proceeds to say, the way his entire face is glowing proof that whatever just happened between the two of you had left the man with plenty to think of.

"- She looks so damn cute sometimes..." Abbacchio mutters moreso to himself, as though it's all the justification he needs.

Bruno can’t help but let his shoulders fall with a touch of disappointment. 

It’s not that he didn’t approve of their relationship, but he did find it a tad frustrating that the two chose to keep playing such mindless games with each other rather than just mature and admit their feelings.

"I think I have an idea, " Bruno replied, not feeling so bad for the other man after all,  considering all the times he’s gotten the best out of you. 

“Anyways...” he starts, moving forward and explaining to you your destination.

 You listen attentively, hoping you’ll come back sooner than expected.

[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.

[babypinkbruno]

Unplanned Pregnancy Drabble as usual i have no idea what this is, i was just very curious as to how i thought Abbacchio might react to his love announcing an unplanned pregnancy... this is just total fluff because i have no time for angst (the anime fucked me up, man). i literally would do anything for this man. pairing: leone abbacchio x fem!reader wordcount: like 3k warnings: pregnancy is a warning

After a month of feeling utterly exhausted, I finally realise why I had been feeling that way. I stand in our bathroom, my bare feet cold against the tiles, staring at the test in my trembling hands. A cold shock creeps over my skin.

Abbacchio is in the bedroom, sorting through a box of records. His voice is curious as he calls out. ‘Babe? You alright in there?’

I stumble to the bedroom, staring blankly at the test.

He looks up as I enter, his eyes widening with concern. ‘Babe? Hey, what’s wrong? You look like you’ve seen a ghost.’

‘I… Um… How do I put this…’ I hand him the test.

Abbacchio stands up and takes the test from me. He looks at it with a frown, confusion drawing his brows together. It takes him a moment, but the realisation of what it means sets in, and the colour slowly drains from his face. ‘Are you… I mean…’ He glances at me, before looking back down at the test, then back to me, his voice shaky, ‘Is this…?’

‘Leone…’ I murmur, unable to look at him. I lean on the doorframe for support, my knees trembling. He puts the test down on the bed, not breaking his shocked gaze from me. He had not given much thought to the idea of having a child as he was always so focused on work and then, of course, Passione, as well as just managing to get by each day. Now, he does not know what to do. What the hell is he supposed to say to the woman he loves, who he has just found out is pregnant with his child?

I do not say anything as I stumble to the bed and sit down. I stare at the floor, my mouth forming a little ‘o’.

Abbacchio sits with me in silence for a moment, his mind clouded by thoughts. After several tense moments, he finally speaks again. ‘So… You’re really… pregnant?’

‘I–I guess so…’

‘Holy shit…’ He sits, stunned, absorbing the news. ‘Wait, how far along are you?’

I finally look at him. ‘Well… I must be six weeks…?’

He nods slowly, doing some quick mental math. ‘So that means you were pregnant when we… y’know…’

‘Leone, we have sex almost every day. It’s yours,’ I say, somewhat angrily.

‘Christ, I know it’s mine. I wasn’t accusing you of anything…’ He puts up his hands in a placating gesture. ‘That’s not what I was trying to imply… I’m just thinking that we weren’t being careful a month ago…’

‘Sorry…’ I murmur, blushing. ‘I’m so… there’s a lot of emotions right now. I didn’t mean to yell at you, I’m sorry.’

‘It’s fine, it’s fine… I get it, honestly. You’re probably feeling a lot of things right now… hell, so am I.’ Abbacchio scoots closer to me, wrapping an arm around my waist and pulling me into his side. He lets out a shaky sigh.

‘It is yours, though… I just… What the fuck are we gonna do?’ I gasp, leaning into his side.

‘Listen, try to relax. It’s going to be okay, I promise. There’s options.’ He runs a soothing hand down my back and presses a kiss to the top of my head. In truth, his mind is a flurry of anxious thoughts but he is doing his best not to show it.

‘Options?’

‘I mean…’ He falters, stumbling over the harsh reality of what options we have. ‘We have two options. We either keep the kid, or we… don’t keep the kid.’

Abbacchio’s grip tightens on my arm slightly as he says the latter, his mouth twisting into a slight grimace.

‘We… what?’ I say absently.

Abbacchio turns to me, realising I am not really listening. He puts a hand on my chin, gently guiding my gaze up to his. ‘Are you hearing me? We’ve got only two options here, babe. Keep the kid, or don’t. We can terminate the pregnancy and that’ll be that… or, we can have the baby. It’s your decision.’

‘Leone…’ I breathe his name, searching his face. The anxiety in my belly lurches. ‘I… Yes… Right. Two options.’

He continues to hold my gaze as if he is desperately searching for the answers. ‘Babe… I know this is a lot. I know you need time to think, but… what are you leaning towards as of this moment?’

‘I… I don’t know…’ I say, averting my eyes. ‘What do you want…?’

Abbacchio gently takes my chin again, his warm fingers on my skin. ‘That’s not what I asked. I want to know what you want to do. I don’t want you to think about what I want. Forget me. This is about you. I don’t want you to make any decisions based on what you think I want,’ he says firmly.

I frown. ‘What are you talking about?’ I scoff softly. ‘This is your baby, just as much as mine… You have a say.’

‘Yeah, technically it is my kid as well, but this whole thing is happening inside your body,’ he says as he takes my cheeks into both of his hands, his expression becoming frustrated. ‘God damn it, why do you always do this? Why are you always putting your own wants and feelings on the back burner whenever anyone else is involved?’

I feel my cheeks squish between his hands and a small tear rolls down my cheek. ‘Leone, you have a say,’ I reply stubbornly.

‘I know I have a say. I’m aware of that. This is happening to you, though. That’s what you’re not getting. I don’t want you getting stuck with one option or the other just because you think it’s what I want..’

Slow realisation dawns on me and I pull away slightly. ‘You–you want to keep it, don’t you?’

Abbacchio falters.

‘You just won’t admit it because you’re scared…’

His hands land on my shoulders firmly. His breath is slightly shaky as he exhales an anxious sigh. ‘God damn it, I do, okay? Yes. Happy?’

‘I–Leone…’ I pull him in, wrapping my arms around his neck, a strange sense of relief mixing with the anxiety in my belly.

Abbacchio pulls me against his chest. Despite the stern look on his face, it is obvious he is struggling to accept the situation. ‘Why’d you have to go and get knocked up, woman?’

‘Because I love you… and I love your… well, you know,’ I laugh weakly.

His laugh is shaky and strained, as if he is trying to make light of the situation. ‘Ah yeah, that’s the problem. I love you, and, you know… How the hell are we gonna pull this off…? We’ve got Passione bullshit to deal with… and now, we’ve got a baby in the mix.’

‘I have… absolutely no fucking idea,’ I murmur into his neck, his hair tickling the side of my face. ‘Bucciarati is gonna kill us.’

Abbacchio lets out a dry chuckle. ‘Oh, yeah. He’ll chew us out. This has got to be the worst possible time for this to happen.’

‘I’m sorry, honey…’ ‘I say, pressing a kiss to his temple.

‘Don’t be sorry, babe. This is just as much my fault as it is yours,’ he sighs softly. ‘God damn it, you really know how to put a wrench in my grand plans, huh?’

‘Ha, what grand plans are those?’ I laugh, pulling back slightly.

‘Well, I mean,’ he murmurs, pulling me back against him, burying his head in my shoulder again. ‘Getting you an engagement ring. Asking you to marry me… you know, all that crap.’

‘W–what?’ I blush furiously.

He laughs, lifting his gaze to mine. He tilts my chin up, an amused grin on his face. ‘You know, asking you to spend the rest of your life with me, and all that.’

‘I had no idea you even wanted that…’

‘Of course I want that, dumbass. I’d be damned if anyone else got to have you. You’re mine.

‘You really want to marry me…?’ Excitement adds to the overwhelming rise of emotions in my belly. My lip trembles slightly.

Abbacchio glances at my trembling lip and leans down to kiss me. In the warm moments that pass, unspoken words are shared between us. Gently, he slips his tongue into my mouth, soft and sweet.

‘Baby, this is how we got into this mess…’

‘He laughs, resting his forehead against mine. ‘Yeah… that’s right. That’s where we fucked up.’ He slides a hand over my belly.

‘Y–yeah.’

Abbacchio rests his gaze on his lingering touch. ‘There’s a kid in there… our kid. I can’t believe it.’

‘Yup. A little bean sized gremlin just waiting to meet you.’

‘Bean sized gremlin?’ Abbacchio laughs. ‘That’s how you want to refer to our spawn?’

‘Spawn? That’s so much worse!’ I laugh behind my hands, almost rolling off the bed.

Abbacchio grins, grabbing my waist and pulling me back towards him before I can fall off the edge of the bed. ‘Okay, okay. Baby. Is that good enough?’

I rest my head on his shoulder. ‘Little baby. Holy fuck. What the hell.

‘Little baby… Tiny ass baby… What the hell are we going to do with a baby?’ Abbacchio asks wryly, resting his chin on my head.

‘I don’t know, put it in a stroller, I guess?’ I wipe tears of laughter and anxiety from my eyes. ‘We gotta feed it, change it, cuddle it…’

‘Can we just… return it to the spawn factory and get a different one? This one seems too high maintenance.’ Abbacchio grins against my forehead, pressing a gentle kiss to my skin.

‘You are just the funniest person ever,’ I say wryly. ‘I hope this baby has your sense of humour.’

‘If it’s got my sense of humour, you better hope this kid never figures out how to run its mouth.’

‘Oh, we know they’re going to be the most smartass kid in the neighbourhood. It’ll have two gangsters for parents, kinda hard to beat that at show and tell day.’

‘Yeah, and when his teachers ask what his parents do, and he responds with ‘mafia’, things are going to get wild. We’ll be meeting him down at the station for all the trouble he’s going to get into.’

‘Oh my god, we could just ask Bucciarati to bail us three out?’ I laugh.

‘Yeah, just ask him to pull some strings and get us off the hook for our five year old’s “my parents are gangsters” show and tell presentation. I’m sure he’d love that.’

‘Do you know what, though I think he would totally chew us out for being irresponsible… I think the second Bucciarati meets this baby, he’ll be absolutely doting over it. Best uncle in the whole world.’ I press a soft kiss to Abbacchio’s cheek.

He smiles, leaning into my touch. ‘Oh yeah. As soon as Bucciarsti gets the chance, he’s gonna be spoiling that kid rotten. He’s probably going to buy baby booties the day we tell him.’

‘Absolutely, that sounds exactly like something he would do,’ I nod, breathing in the scent of him as I nuzzle into his neck. ‘You know… I know we’re not exactly… in the safest jobs… but I’d say we have a pretty good bunch of friends around us.’

Abbacchio grins, his hands tracing gently circles against my waist, he smiles wryly. ‘The most dysfunctional group of idiots I’ve ever met, but I’m sure the baby will fit right in…’

‘Well, if it’s anything like us… We’re going to be fine, right?’

‘Yeah. We’re going to be fine, babe. We’re going to be fine.’

[rougepancake]

Take care.

How they deal with you when you’re on your period (hcs)

Ft. Leonne Abbacchio and Bruno Bucciarati

WARNINGS: Fem!reader. Period cramps, mood swings. Fluffy stuff. These hcs are all over the place btw. There is no order whatsoever-

BRUNO BUCCIARATI

Don’t doubt him, he’s done his research and then some

He knows exactly what to get you when you’re cramping badly, and treats you as if you’re the most fragile thing on earth

Prepares you the BEST herbal teas and plays with your hair while you drink them

Sadly, he doesn’t cave when you beg him for whatever you’re craving, giving you stuff that he knows will tone down your cramps

He definitely gives you massages if you’re tense

I feel like he’s said something along the lines of “we’re in this together” and immediately regretted it afterwards

He makes everything about you for sure

There’s a movie you’ve been wanting to watch? He just bought it on dvd and you’re watching it tonight

You’re hungry? Tell him what you want and he’ll cook it to the best of his abilities

Need a heating pad? If you want, he’ll lay on top of you while you cuddle. If you don’t, you bet your ass he’s got a heating pad on standby

Prepares you nice warm baths and showers and enjoys being able to take care of you like this

Has the fridge stocked with various different fruits and vegetables for you, hand picked to make sure that they’re to your liking

Also has a secret stash of dark chocolate that he bought specifically for when you’re on your period

(he has to move it every month to prevent you from finding it)

Is amazing at comforting you through your mood swings. He’s a real champ for sure

Like if you snap at him, he’ll sit there and take it, because he knows you’ll cave and apologize later. He knows that it’s not your fault that your moody, so therefore he has no need to return your sudden anger

At the start of your relationship, he was definitely much more antsy whenever it came to your cramps and such, but the longer you’re together the more comfortable he gets

He has done all the research he can, and has even gone as far as to ask some of the older women he knows for pointers and such

100% rants to Abbacchio in secret

“I just don’t know what to do! She won’t even let me hold her-“ Bucciarati rambles, his hands waving around madly as he speaks. It’s uncharacteristic for him to be so worked up over something that’s so easily solved.

“Just give her some space.” Abbacchio shrugs and rolls his eyes at his friend. It makes perfect sense, really. You wouldn’t let him touch you, and you seemed moodier than you usually were. You just wanted space. Duh.

“Oh… Yeah. That might work.”

LEONE ABBACCHIO

He has done some research. Like just enough to know what’s healthy for you and what he should do

This guy has a wonderful poker face, because not once have you been able to pick up on the fact that he’s panicking inside

Listen, he loves you, and he’s seriously doing his best here, but damn-

He has to fight back the urge to argue with you for fear that he’ll only upset you further

Like he really, reallyyy wants to piss you off, but he knows better than to do that (plus Bucciarati would never let him hear the end of it-)

While he doesn’t know a whole lot about what to do, he tends to cuddle you until you sleep, or make you whatever you ask for

Sorry but he can’t cook to save his life

Expect slightly burnt food every time he hands you a plate (you love it anyways)

Like Bruno, he’s got a stash of dark chocolate for you, except it’s sitting out in the open and he eats it with you while you’re watching cringy rom coms

I wholeheartedly believe he lets you do his makeup (and vice versa)

Like if you’re feeling up to it, he’ll walk in with his makeup kit and let you go crazy with it

Typically leaves it on until you fall asleep

Whenever he does your makeup, he’s very careful to not upset or hurt you. It’s one of the few times you get to see him so gentle

Has water bottles and heating pads within reach at all times just in case your cramps get worse. He also carries a bottle of Midol in his pocket for extra caution

Refuses to tell you that, however

Had the mindset of “not my womb, not my problem” until he started dating you

The first time you brought it up he died inside. You were suffering and there wasn’t really anything he could do about it. It sucked

Because he has done very basic research, he has no idea what to feed you other than your cravings

I mean yeah he looked up what to give you, but forgot within an hour once he saw how much pain you were actually in

Strictly refuses to ask questions about it and does not want help from anyone.

He gets incredibly flustered when he has to go out and get you pads/tampons. His brain always seems to short circuit on him while he’s in the isle. “What size does she prefer?” “Does she bleed heavily or not?? Fuck I can’t remember-!”

Snaps at anyone who looks at him funny when he buys them

Let’s you do his hair for sure, but WILL NOT go out in public with whatever hairstyle you give him

Braids? Cute, but not in front of Bucciarati

Ponytail? Actually he’s kind of digging it, but he knows he’ll never hear the end of it from the others, so no

Pigtails? You sounded excited about them, but he’d literally rather die than have anyone seen him with his hair like that ❤️

“Can I do your hair?” You ask softly, looking up at him from your spot on the couch. “I think you’d look good with Dutch braids, and I’d like to try it out on you.”

“Fine.” He grabs the hair brush and sits with his back towards you, allowing you full access to his hair. “Just don’t rip it out or whatever.”

“Thanks Leone.” You smile and begin parting his hair. “You’re gonna look amazing when I’m done.”

“I’d better.”

[jjkamochoso]

I’ve Loved You a Leone Time

Angst, fluff

Leone Abbacchio x gn!reader

Abacchio just cannot get past the day’s events and wants to rewind them over and over.

Warnings: mentions of alcohol/being drunk (not reader), slight cussing

The bitter taste of wine was everything but unfamiliar to Leone’s lips. The half empty bottle swung around in his loose hold, sloshing burgundy droplets on the carpeted floor beneath him. It was pathetic—he was pathetic, really—but he didn’t care anymore. If he weren’t this drunk, there was no way he’d be indulging in something like this; something so juvenile. He scoffed as he thought about how utterly ridiculous he was acting, as if he were a schoolboy with a crush. He was a gang member. He had killed people, for crying out loud.

Why was he holed up in his hotel room using Moody Blues to reenact every move of yours that day?

First, he rewound to the moment you greeted him in the morning. Abbacchio was not a romantic but the way your eyes sparkled in the sunlight gleaming through the window of the hotel restaurant as you ate breakfast was enough to melt the icy exterior of his heart.

“Good morning, Leone.”

God, if only those sweet words from your mouth were the first ones he heard upon waking every day.

He paused Moody Blues, cautiously approaching his Stand’s recreation of you that was sitting in the middle of his room. Your hair, still slightly tousled from your sleep the night prior, made Abbacchio let out a gruff chuckle. There were times he wished his Stand had a more physical power, but being able to bask in your presence without fear of embarrassing himself was quite possibly the greatest ability he could’ve been blessed with.

He pressed the fast forward button, zipping through the rest of breakfast and hitting play at a moment in the afternoon. You had just landed the finishing blow to a rouge member of Passione, your team’s orders coming directly from the boss to take him out. Everyone gathered around you in excitement, slapping your back and telling you job well done, but your gaze landed on Abbacchio, who had been watching from a distance. You were just as breathtaking now, with Moody Blues as your stand-in, as he remembered from earlier. Your skin had a slight sheen of sweat from your fight and though you were roughed up, you still looked as perfect as an unblemished flower to Leone.

The man took another large gulp of his drink of choice as he clicked fast forward once more, this time stopping at dinner time. You had sat next to him and began to talk (you always did), and he had taken off his headphones and started to listen (he does… most of the time). Tonight, though, he was glad to have been paying attention. As Moody Blues started acting out what happened, Abbacchio sighed. He would love to be the one to treat you to dinners like that all of the time. You deserved someone who could treat you like the royalty you were, love you the way you should be loved. He’d be a stain on your reputation, a dark cloud looming over you. He wouldn’t do that to you.

He couldn’t.

With his emotions heightened from the contents of the now finished wine bottle, Leone desperately craved another drink, wanting to drown his sorrows, but he settled on getting drunk off your words.

You had just finished laughing about something Narancia and Mista had done when you turned quiet, your eyes trailing over Abbacchio in a comforting manner.

“You know,” you spoke softly after a moment of silence, “you’re a good man, Leone. I’m extremely lucky to have you by my side.”

Abbacchio remembered how your sudden confession caught him off guard then, and even though he knew what you were going to say this time around, it still made his heart go crazy in his chest.

Rewind.

“You’re a good man, Leone.”

Rewind.

“You’re a good man, Leone.”

Rewind.

“You’re a good man, Leone.”

Rewind.

“I’m extremely lucky to have you by my side.”

If Moody Blues had a physical rewind button, he was sure that his fingerprint would’ve been embossed in the plastic with how many times he rewound those sentences. Soon enough he paused the scene again. Adoration was oozing from your irises; it was a look Abbacchio hadn’t received from anyone in a very, very long time. Your little smile made his stomach swell with nerves, even after the millionth time of seeing it. You were giving him a look that was seemingly reserved just for him and he had no idea why. He wasn’t worthy of your affection or gratefulness. He was just a depressed drunkard with a screwed up sense of morality, yet he noticed that you were drawn to him like a moth to a flame. He would never want to sully your purity; he’d have to quell his soul’s yearning for you by watching you from afar and hoping Moody Blues would be an acceptable stand-in for you.

Leone couldn’t help but reach for you in that moment—he was a selfish man, you know—and he felt his fingertips brush against your cheek. The sensation was much too cold since Stands aren’t warm like humans, but it would have to do. Maybe if he believed it was you standing in his room, he could be satisfied.

Fuck, he really needed another drink.

Abbacchio reluctantly pulled his hand away from your face, committing the kind expression you held toward him to his fondest memories (there weren’t many and you made up more than half of them). Stumbling out his hotel door, he barely walked into the hallway when he ran into something.

“What the hell-” he started saying, but quickly shut up when he saw who it was he slammed into.

It was you.

The real you.

“Oh, Leone!” you said in a saccharine voice, “Bruno sent me up here to give you this.”

You presented to him another bottle of wine, the one he was about to go search for.

“I didn’t think you needed another one to drink all by yourself, but boss’ orders, right?” you chuckled lightly. As you were handing him the bottle, his outstretched hands grateful he didn’t have to brave the winding hallways in his drunken state, you saw movement from his room.

“Are you that out of it that you didn’t realize there’s someone in your room?” you asked, irritated, pushing him out of the way and calling out your own Stand. Abbacchio’s eyes widened in fear as he realized what was going on, but it was too late; you had apprehended the supposed enemy.

“Stop right there!” you had shouted, your Stand seizing the person who dared try to hurt Leone, but when you finally took note of who it was in your possession, you let out a tiny gasp. You were looking at… you? You were witnessing your dinner from a few hours ago. Right now, you were chattering away about whatever, and you looked at Abbacchio to explain. His purple lips were set in a slightly open expression of shock. Leone was absolutely, positively, mortified.

Had he been so stupid to forget to call in his Stand? He could hardly stand up straight as it was and the piling amount of stress and embarrassment was doing nothing to help.

He chose to say nothing, instead taking the cork out of the freshly delivered bottle and did what he did best—avoid situations with alcohol.

“Um… Leone?” you called out, both of your Stands no longer manifested. “May I ask what you were doing?”

“You may,” he responded gruffly, his back to you as he sat on his bed.

“Which was?”

Abbacchio sat tight lipped, not wanting to give anything else away. He was sure you hated him, thought of him as some sort of freak or pervert. He didn’t want to dig himself into a bigger hole than he was already in. He was expecting you to run out, tell the members of the team, and maybe leave Bucciarati’s gang for good. He wouldn’t be surprised if you put a hit out on him at this point. He deserved it…

“Leone.”

He didn’t register you nearing him until he felt the bed dip with your body weight.

“Were you replaying today with Moody Blues?” you asked. Of course, you knew the answer was yes, but you wanted to get the information slowly since Abbacchio was definitely in a haze.

The tall man said nothing, opting to nod in affirmation.

“Were you…” you hesitated. “Were you watching me?”

No answer this time, verbal or nonverbal, though he took a big swig of wine which was a glaringly obvious sign that you guessed correctly.

“I’m not mad or anything. Depending on what you were replaying it for, I find it endearing.”

Abbacchio stopped mid-drink. Were you joking? Could you really be that messed up where you thought his actions were acceptable? He still couldn’t face you but decided to speak up.

“Nothing nefarious, I promise.”

Your small laugh worked wonders to ease his nerves. “I was just teasing you. I know you better than that. Like I said earlier, you’re a good man.”

There it was again, that sentence from you that made Leone feel like he could climb out of the deepest depths of the Atlantic. However, he wasn’t so sure he could take it as the whole truth. You’re a kind person—you might just be taking pity on him.

“Stop saying that. We both know that isn’t true.”

He went to take another sip but the wine bottle was yanked from his grasp.

“Don’t say stupid shit like that,” you reprimanded, holding the bottle out of reach. “I know you think I’m just saying it but you know me better than that. I don’t say things just to say them. I mean everything that leaves my mouth. You’re a valuable team member, but more than that, you mean a great deal to me. I wish you realized how much value you bring to this world. To my world.”

Leone brought himself to meet your eyes. You were looking at him with a sort of desperation, like you were begging him to understand your words. Even in his inebriated state, he recognized the subtle urgency in your tone. There was no way you were going to confess that you had feelings for him… were you? He had to put a stop to that, quickly. He wouldn’t let you waste your life on someone like him.

“You don’t want me, not like that. I’m not the man you think I am.”

“No.” You were more stern than he had ever heard before. “You’re not the man you think you are. I don’t want to fix you, Leone. You’re not broken. I just want to be with you as you are now. And if Moody Blues could show you the future, I would want it to show us together, taking on the world.”

“I can’t give you everything you deserve,” he mumbled.

“You already have,” you replied, letting your hand slide over to his and holding it gently. “Since the day I met you, you’ve brought me a sort of joy that I can’t describe. I want you, and only you, if you’ll have me.”

While Abbacchio thought of the right thing to say next, you leaned over and gave him a kiss on the cheek.

“Don’t worry, I’m not expecting an answer right now, especially not when you’re in this state. I’ll bring you some water before I go. Clear your head and get some rest. There’s no hurry, either. I’ll forever be waiting for you, Leone.”

As soon as you stood from your spot on the bed, Leone’s hand darted out and took hold of your wrist. He wasn’t going to screw up his chance with you.

“Save me a spot at breakfast tomorrow, would you? Preferably… next to you.”

You couldn’t fight the grin that appeared on your lips.

“Always.”

[fandoms-are-my-friends-1321]

Adoring Stands

Here’s another JoJo’s Bizarre Adventure fanfic! I love Mista with my whole heart, and I came up with this idea the other day and had to write it down. As always gif and characters are not mine, and if anyone would like to make a request, please feel free to ask!

Description: Guido Mista’s stand, Six Bullets, absolutely adore the reader, and they love to show the bullets affection in return. When Mista tries to rest after an exhausting mission, he is greeted by an adorable sight.

Warnings: cursing, mentions of fighting and violence from the mission, otherwise none (if I miss something though, don’t be afraid to point it out!)

After a successful mission, the Bucciarati gang loved to go back to the Libeccio for a five course dinner. Bruno spared no expense when it came to boosting the moral of his comrades, and each person took their seat in their usual spots. Abbachio sat to Mista’s left, his headphones playing classical music as he drank from his wine glass. To Mista’s right was Y/N L/N, the newest member of the team, followed by Fugo and Narancia. Bruno and Giorno sat across from Y/N and Mista.

“Excellent work today, Y/N. I must say your fighting skills continue to impress me.” Bruno commented as he took a bite from his garlic bread.

Y/N gave a slight smile as they bowed their head in respect. “Thank you, Bucciarati, but the mission would have failed without the help from the rest of the team.”

“Come on, don’t be so modest! You totally kicked that stand user’s ass.” Mista playfully nudged Y/N in the ribs, and they returned the favor by punching him in the shoulder. Narancia snickered at Mista and Y/N’s antics, and the rest shared knowing looks. The chemistry between the two of them had always been present, and the others loved to tease Mista about when he would make an actual move.

“What are you laughing at, uomo idiota?” Mista asked as he glared at Narancia. 

The younger boy laughed even harder as he twirled spaghetti around on his fork. “It’s nothing, Mista. You’ll figure it out eventually.”

The group continued to eat in silence, or it was silent until Mista’s stand, Six Bullets, complained about their own hunger. They all tried to climb up onto Mista’s plate to steal some of his food, except for Number Five, who had been punched by Number Three and knocked back onto the table. Number Five rubbed his swollen gold cheek as he started to cry, but Y/N quickly scooped them up into their hand.

“Easy now, Number Five, there’s no need for tears. Number three may pick on you, but you are just as valuable as the other bullets. Here, I saved you a little something.” Y/N offered part of their tiramisu cake to Number Five, and the bullet squealed happily as it pulled the dessert off the fork. Number Five quickly shoved the coffee-flavored cake into their mouth before the others caught them in the act.

Number Five hurried back to the group, and they whispered to Number One the kind deed that Y/N had done, hoping to earn some brownie points with the leader of the group. Of course, this wasn’t the first time that Y/N had slipped the Six Bullets desserts or extra snacks on the side apart from what Mista gave them, but it still excited each of them every time.

One by one, the other bullets sneaked off to steal some tiramisu from Y/N, trying their best not to catch Mista’s attention, but he wasn’t a fool. “Y/N! I told you not to sneak extra snacks to these guys! The last thing they need is coffee, especially since I will be the one dealing with the aftermath.” Mista shook his head, but Y/N simply giggled as they looked towards the Six Bullets.

“Do you all promise me you won’t trouble Mista? I would appreciate it if you take it easy on him, and if you behave, I might be able to spare a macaron or two.”

“We promise, Y/N!” The bullets replied in unison, causing Mista to shake his head at them, but Y/N noticed the start of a smile on the Italian’s face. After lunch came to a close, the Bucciarati gang headed back to their secluded hide out to rest. Bruno told them that it would be better if everyone lay low for a while in case other enemy stand users were still searching for them. Fugo and Narancia sat down on the couch in the common room of their hideout since Fugo promised that he would help Narancia with arithmetic problems. Bruno sat at the table by the window drinking a cup of tea and recording the details of the mission. Abbacchio sat across from Bruno listening to Monteverdi, taking a moment to reach across the table and take hold of Bruno’s hand. The capo smiled at the gesture and rubbed his thumb against the back of Abbacchio’s hand. Giorno worked on trimming a bonsai tree that had been a basket a few moments earlier before he transformed it with Golden Wind. The atmosphere radiated with tranquility, that is until Mista started pacing the floor.

The flirty interaction between him and Y/N was not the first, and yet the more time that passed the more that Mista felt something growing deep in his chest. It felt warm and comforting, but at the same time it made his stomach twist into nervous knots. The others told him numerous times that the feelings he experienced each moment he stood beside Y/N was love, but Mista still had some uncertainty. What if Y/N flirted with him for fun? It wouldn’t be the first time someone played with his feelings and left when boredom took over. “I’m going to go lay down for a while. Maybe some rest will help clear my head.” Mista walked down the hall and opened the door to the room he typically slept in.

Mista expected to see an empty bed, but the sight in front of him made his heart leap with joy and astonishment. Y/N laid on their back, their favorite blanket tangled over their legs as their eyes remained closed. The Six Bullets were curled up on Y/N’s chest, also in deep states of sleep. Number Five snored lightly as they nuzzled into the soft fabric of Y/N’s shirt. Mista grinned from ear to ear at the sight in front of him, and he thought to himself that this moment was sweeter than the chocolate cake he had for dessert that afternoon.

Trying his best not to wake Y/N or any of the Six Bullets, Mista crept over to the dresser and sat his hat on the oak furniture, running a hand through his curly locks. He crossed over to the side of the bed that looked the most spacious and settled into the spot. Mista leaned over and lightly touched Y/N’s shoulder. “Hey, you’re hogging my bed, bellissima.”

Y/N let out a groggy mumble as they opened their eyes. Their chest felt heavier than usual, and as soon as they looked down to see what was causing the weight difference, they noticed that the Six Bullets were still snoozing away. “I’m so sorry, Mista,” Y/N apologized. “I thought you were busy, and these guys were ready for their nap, so I offered them a comfortable place to rest. It appears I dozed off myself.”

Mista brushed the back of his knuckles against Y/N’s cheek, causing them to blush. “No need to apologize, especially after the ass kicking you did during our mission today. You deserve the rest, and clearly my Six Bullets are in the same boat.” It was Mista’s turn to blush as he glanced away to look out the window. “They really seem to like you Y/N, adore you is more accurate, and they aren’t the only ones who adore you with all their heart.”

Y/N gasped at Mista’s confession, but they could feel their heart swell with joy from his sentimental words. Y/N had developed feelings for Mista months ago, but after so many failed relationships, they thought that it would be impossible for someone like Mista to reciprocate the feelings. They reached for his hand, and Mista turned back to face Y/N. “I think you should lay down and rest a while too, Mista. I would say that you look even more attractive when you are exhausted, but I wouldn’t dare lie to the person I’ve had a crush on for months.”

A chuckle rumbled from Mista’s chest as he reclined on the bed and wrapped an arm around Y/N’s waist, pulling them closer into his warm embrace. The Six Bullets seemed to enjoy the extra warmth from Mista’s sweater as well, and for once in a long time, Mista felt at peace. “I’m glad to hear that you would not lie to me, tesoro, because now that you have confessed your feelings too, I will be by your side for as long as I live.”

Tag list: @pansexualtimcurryvampireelf

Y/N hummed as their eyes drooped shut, sleep taking over once again. Mista fell into his own peaceful dreams, but none of them could compare to his current reality where his dream had already come true.

[milkyway-gaily]

[Bruabba] My gift for dear Teeth Sponge, for a Discord Gift Exchange🥰 I had a lot of fun drawing JoJo again! Sorry for some wackiness I was sick and sleep-deprived💦) Happy holidays to everyone reading this!🎄🎁✨

(Read panels from right to left pls!)

[starry-snippets]

thinking about soft abbacchio. you're having a rough day for whatever reason, and you can't get your headphones to work. you haven't come down for dinner so bruno sends abbacchio to check on you, knowing you are crushing on each other, and he sees you crying while holding your broken headphones. he can tell immediately from your heaves it isn't about just the headphones. abbacchio's first thought is to leave, maybe fetch bruno since he is the only one (besides you) who can calm him down, but when he hears you call for him that thought leaves his mind. abbacchio can't run away when he can help you. he'll sit besides you, turning on the playlist you made for when you have to drive extensively on missions. abbacchio watches your breathing steady as he uses the same techniques bruno does with him when things get too bad. halfway through the playlist you're smiling while he whines about nothing important, mainly just to see your smile. that's when abba really realizes he loves you. anyone else and he would of let someone else handle your distressed state. but seeing you broken and sobbing – for some reason abbacchio couldn't bare it. as your shared tunes continue blasting and you ask if you could explain why your day went so poorly, abbacchio just stares at you with an expression that reads "fuck what do I do?" you may think he doesn't know how to comfort you further, but really he's just dreading the possible hurt that can come from loving you cause he's #traumatized

[bloomingdayswithyou]

Can you do a Giorno x reader x Abbacchio ? Many thanks!

Morning routine with Giorno and Abbacchio

Pairing: Giorno x Abbacchio x gn!reader (poly)

Words: 559

Warnings: real world au, just a lot of fluff🩷

The soft hues of dawn filtered through the curtains, painting a gentle warmth across the room where Giorno, Abbacchio, and you lay entangled in the embrace of sleep. As the first rays of sunlight kissed your eyelids, you stirred, your senses gradually coming alive to the world around you. With a contented sigh, you shifted slightly, your movement causing Giorno to nuzzle closer, his arms tightening around you. Abbacchio, nestled on the other side, let out a soft grunt before his features relaxed into a peaceful expression. You smiled, taking a moment to relish the simple intimacy of the morning. Gently extricating yourself from Giorno's grasp, you slipped out of bed, careful not to disturb his slumber. The wooden floorboards felt cool beneath your feet as you made your way to the kitchen, where the promise of a new day awaited.

The aroma of freshly brewed coffee permeated the air as you set about preparing breakfast. The rhythmic sounds of a soft jazz tune played from a record player in the corner, creating a soothing backdrop to the morning's activities. With practiced ease, you cracked eggs into a bowl, the satisfying sound punctuating the quiet tranquility. Soon, the sizzle of eggs hitting the pan joined the melody of the jazz music. Abbacchio emerged from the bedroom, his hair mussed and his expression still half-lidded with sleep. His presence brought a sense of familiarity and comfort, and you greeted him with a warm smile.

"Morning," he muttered, his voice still rough with sleep as he shared a soft kiss with you before he reached for a coffee mug.

"Good morning," you replied, the corner of your lips quirking up. "Coffee's ready whenever you are." As the rich aroma of coffee enveloped the room, Giorno's voice joined the symphony of the morning. His tousled hair and sleepy smile made your heart skip a beat as he entered the kitchen, his gaze finding yours with an affectionate glint.

"Am I just in time for breakfast?" he asked, his tone playfully teasing while he hugged you from behind after sharing a kiss with Abbacchio. "Of course," you said, your heart fluttering as he pressed a soft kiss to your cheek.

The three of you worked together in a synchronized dance – eggs sizzling, toast toasting, and coffee pouring into mugs. Abbacchio's quiet efficiency complemented Giorno's innate grace, and your own contributions wove seamlessly into the rhythm of the morning routine. As you sat down at the kitchen table, plates of scrambled eggs and buttered toast before you, Giorno offered a toast. "To another day together."

"To us," Abbacchio added, raising his mug of coffee in agreement. The clinking of mugs was accompanied by shared smiles, the morning light casting a golden glow across your faces. As you savored breakfast together, the conversations flowed effortlessly – from plans for the day ahead to nostalgic anecdotes that brought laughter.

After breakfast, the three of you gravitated toward the living room, settling onto the couch in a tangle of limbs and shared blankets. Giorno's fingers intertwined with yours, Abbacchio's head resting against your shoulder as you enjoyed the simple pleasure of being together.

The morning hours slipped away in a haze of companionship, the soft cadence of your laughter filling the air. From whispered confessions to stolen kisses, the intimacy you shared was a testament to the depth of your connection. As the sun climbed higher in the sky, bathing the room in a warm glow, you found yourself lost in the embrace of their love. The worries of the world outside seemed distant and insignificant compared to the sanctuary you had created together.

In that tranquil morning, as Giorno's fingers traced gentle patterns on your skin and Abbacchio's steady breaths mingled with your own, you couldn't help but feel an overwhelming sense of gratitude. The moments like these, filled with love, laughter, and shared moments, were the true treasures that defined your unique relationship. And as you basked in the glow of that morning, you knew that no matter where life's journey took you, the bond you shared would remain unbreakable.

.

.

.

[giggly-squiggily]

TickleTober Day 5 ~I'm Not Ticklish~ (Jojo's Bizarre Adventure)

For the wonderful @gladdygirl18 :3

“You’re full of merde!”

Abbachio raised a brow above his wine glass, sipping slowly and drawing out the tension. “Rude- watch your mouths. And it’s true; I’m not ticklish.”

“That’s a load of sh-crap! Everyone’s ticklish!” Narancia argued, slapping his hands on the table with a huff. “Even Bucciarati’s ticklish!”

“Yeah! I bet you even the big boss is ticklish!” Mista added. The trio paused at the thought, humming. “But yeah- there’s no way you’re not!”

“There is a way- I’m simply immune.” Abbachio finished off his wine with a flick of his wrist, leaning back in his chair as the pair before him huffed. “There’s not a spot on me that’s ticklish.”

“Ribs?” Narancia darted over, jabbing them repeatedly.

“Try again.” Abbachio leaned his arm back further against the chair to prove his point.

“Waist?” Mista pinched it. Nothing.

“Oh, you know what? Fugo’s BAD here!” Narancia jabbed him under the arm with a giggle. Abbachio merely raised a brow. “What?” “GioGio’s really ticklish here!” Mista clawed at his belly, and still- there was nothing! “Or was it…here?” He squeezed his thigh.

“Come on- it’s got to be somewhere!” Narancia poked and prodded along his torso, looking for giggle spots.

“You're wasting your time. Just take my word for it and leave it b-EH!” Abbachio went to swat them away when a stray finger jabbed his hip, making him spasm in his seat. Mista and Narancia gaped like fish.

Then they were grinning.

“Oh Abba~” Narancia cooed, wiggling his fingers.

“Looks like we found your tickle spot~” Mista was already reaching for his hip.

“Oh no- don’t you dare you pieces of shi-hhihihiihiihihihit!” Abbachio had no time to run- he was immediately attacked by twenty busy fingers, jabbing and prodding at his hips. “Stahahhahap iihiihihihit, yoohohoohohu ahahahahhahsshohohohohles!”

“Now who’s got the potty mouth?” Narancia laughed, kneading Abbachio’s hip as Mista tapped against his other side. “Hey- Mista; check his ribs again!”

“Huh? Oh okay.” Shrugging, the gunner did just that.

“GEHahhahahahahha! Shihiihihiht, gehehhheht bhahahahahahck!” Abbachio nearly flew out of his chair at the new spot being attacked, sinking back in his chair as he laughed and wheezed.

“Holy crap he IS ticklish here!”

“See? I knew he was hiding it! Still not ticklish, Abba?”

“Aheahahhahahha! Screhehehhehw yohohoohohou!” When the fingers came back to his hips, Abbacchio gave in almost immediately. “Fihihihihine, Fihihihihine I’m tihihihihicklish, now stahhahahap!”

“Hehe, new it!” Narancia laughed as the two pulled away, high fiving each other overhead. Abbachio groaned softly, pushing back his hair with a soft laugh. “We got 'em!”

“Hell yeah!” Mista grinned. “Now- who’s next?”

Just then- they’re next target walked right into their web.

“Mista, Narancia- Bucciarati’s looking for you two. Said something about a…um, what’s going on?” Giorno blinked at the sight- Abbacchio flustered and exhausted with Mista and Narancia staring back at him. “Guys?”

“Get him?” Mista raised a brow.

“Get him.” Narancia agreed. Within seconds, they were running at Giorno, the blonde flying out the door with a startled “Merde!”

“Heh…good luck, you damn brat.” Abbacchio grinned as the sound of laughter filled the room once more, pulling on his headphones.

[danddymaro]

In that Instance | Abbacchio Leone x Reader

Kinda fluffy? 

flashbacks

Mentions of Death | Sorry lol

Word Count: 1290

In that instance

It was an instant ;  a single moment that could be measured by a sole heartbeat where it all transpired.

 - There wasn't any time in between, yet somehow, before him, various instances flashed. 

He thought about the first time he met you, how that little greeting of yours had made him anxious... flustered. 

It’d been worse when Bucciarati took notice, because the knowing smile he shot him was a lot more mortifying than all of the encouragement it tried to provide.

“Did your heart just skip a beat?” the other man dared to ask as he brushed past him, following you into the restaurant before Abbacchio stumbled forward, trying to find a way to steady the awful, obnoxious drumming of his heart.

In a single second Abbacchio remembered how your expression had melted at his offering of flowers for your birthday.

It was unforgettable how the very patterns of your features reacted to his gesture.

 -Flowers. 

The last time he'd offered a woman flowers was at his nonna's funeral way before then. 

And it'd only been a single blossom, not the assorted bouquet that had been nervously held before him as he tried to spit out a casual, 'Happy birthday' after everyone else had already done so.  

He felt that it were nothing in comparison to the lovely pendant Bruno had picked out for you, or as meaningful as the assortment of things Fugo had given you which Narancia had piggybacked off. 

Mista had gotten you something simple, but from what he’d bragged about, it’d been something you’ve been eyeing at that the mall for quite some time.

 Leone had thought thought his gift was practically nothing to fawn over, but to his surprise you’d seemed much more affected by his own, simple gift than any other.

He couldn’t stop staring at the lovely heart shape that sat right at your collarbone, the light haired man biting his inner cheek as he cursed himself for not getting you something better.

-Something you were worthy of.

-Something that other people would look at , and know it came from someone that cared about you.

"You got me flowers..." you said, your voice soft as though you couldn't believe it, like you were being given something much more valuable than a few colorful blossoms that would wilt in a couple of weeks.

Either you couldn't fathom that Abbacchio Leone had been kind enough to offer you flowers, or you'd never gotten them before and he couldn't tell which was the case. 

Well, there was also the thought that it’d been such a shitty present he actually brought you to tears, but he tried not to think of that.

Anxiously, he watched your eyes as they slowly flooded with tears, your lashes misted by a soft dew as you tried to hold back,

 "- no one's ever gotten me flowers," you say with a quiet chuckle, feeling silly for being so emotional over it. 

No one had ever done so, but you’d always desired it.

Because, deep inside you were a helpless romantic who's, unfortunately, never been treated as such.

Your confession took him by surprise.

It was the first time he'd seen you cry, and surprisingly, it'd been a sight he smiled at. 

He'd smiled in a subtle manner, his face touched by just the softest blush too.

 He'd given you a first, and he wanted to be the only one to continue to do so, even if he’d yet to win your heart.

- He though you deserved it. 

 Romanticism had never been his forte, and yet,  according to you , it was like he'd written the book on it. 

You swooned at his affection, glowed under his attention and he'd never heard anything but praise from you making him feel like he'd done so much right. 

- And after feeling like an utter screw up it was something he couldn't get past.

The restaurant was lit by only a few candles, and the fragrance of freshly sprouted roses tickled your nose. 

It was a scene you hadn’t expected.

Looking down at the ground you looked at the scattered red petals as they lead to a table set for two, yet another surprise.

“What...” your breath was cut short as you looked at the man beside you who had brought you to the restaurant. 

“What’s all this?” you asked him as he got that teary eyed, yet happy expression from you. 

“ I told you... I wanted to take you out for dinner,” he told you while stepping forward before turning back, his hand extended to you.

At that very moment, it dawned onto you that Abbacchio meant it as a date.

It’d been to your surprise that he asked out, but you’d accepted it none the less, truly grateful, not thinking about it for even a second, especially when he’d called it ‘ his treat.’

-His gift to you since the year before he’d given you nothing but flowers for your birthday, and he wanted to make the current one much more special.

When he’d mentioned  Libeccio you hadn’t been too surprised, but you’d been happy to accept either way, expecting a simple outing, not an empty venue.

 You also hadn’t expected the candles. 

Nor  the flowers that waited for you on your seat after you traveled through the petal decorated ground.

You hadn’t expected him to hold your hand throughout it, or even pull your chair out for you. 

The wine that had been poured for you had caught your eye, because it wasn’t his regular brand, though you’d recognized it as a higher quality, it being yet another surprise.

But nothing had been as impactful as his confession that lead to a proclamation of love. 

“You’re in love with me?” you said back with stunned surprised, your entire expression touched by that awe. 

He released a little sigh as his shoulders dropped, a sheepish smile gracing his dark tinted lips, “ I was so worried I was too obvious,” he revealed, making you laugh.

Of course you told him how you felt, how wonderful you thought he was, and how you never imagined he’d see you in the same light.

.

.

.

They say that when a person's life is at its end, their life flashes before their eyes. 

He'd always wondered what would be true, and he'd give anything to tell you that at that moment he hadn't thought about his past, the one that had haunted him for so long. 

He hadn't thought about his decent childhood or even his one weighing burden that had spiraled him into darkness.

He hadn't even thought about the undoubtable pain that came the moment his body registered the brute strike. 

Instead, he thought about how happy you'd been when he got you those flowers. 

He thought about how wonderful it felt to kiss you, how you felt when molded by his hands, how you smelled of your signature perfume he felt honored to have cling to him. 

He'd thought about how he could feel your smile during those little presses, how much his heart raced when you pushed further, wanting more from him. 

"-I need you," never before has he been so eager to please anyone. 

"Come on," you didn't need to pull him anywhere because he'd follow you blindly, because life with you felt like an entire adventure.

"I love you," it was instinct to pull you close and repeat the words.

"- Don't go," Your little pout always had him trudging back to bed, unable to just say no. 

“Please...” that single word could make him do just about anything.

His eyes tiredly trailed towards his stand, watching it take the form of the last face he'd seen, one he could only hope would come nowhere near you. 

He knew he wouldn't be able to tell you how much he loved you, how much you meant to him;

 How much his family meant to him.

There was no time. 

However, there was just one thing left, one last act that would sum it up. 

And the single stone shard clutched in his cold hand was the precious missing piece that would lead you to his final message.

[inkpot909]

How They Text the Reader Headcanons #2

↳ Characters included are Giorno Giovanna, Pannacotta Fugo, and Narancia Ghirga. Gender neutral Reader; implied everyone lives AU.

A/n: Thank you all so much for the support on my last text headcanon list. It was so fun to write, and I hope that y'all enjoy the second-half of the main part five cast. Once again, I had a blast while writing this!

Warning(s): None.

Giorno Giovanna

You expected him to be a dry-texter, in all honesty. Straightforward and to the point; only ever texting out of necessity. You couldn’t really imagine him as the type to sit down, and have a silly conversation over text.

And at the beginning, that was certainly the case.

Being introduced to the team all at once is certainly overwhelming, and although Giorno adjusted well, he still didn’t know you or the others.

Within the team’s groupchat, he only ever spoke up about important matters as that were being discussed. Whenever a more lighthearted conversation arose, usually because of Mista, he would grow completely radio silent.

Does he really read those texts at all? you recall yourself wondering, Or does he tune us out completely? Can’t really blame him if that's the case; this team... takes time to adjust to.

And eventually learning that he always read those conversations, it was one of the first indications you saw of his character. One of the first times you realized he can and will find his place on the team.

So, while you were in the process of just getting to know Giorno, you developed low expectations when it came to communicating with him over the phone. Hell, you hardly expected him to text you at all.

Oh, what a fool you once were.

As the relationship blossoms, Giorno still texts you as usual. With proper grammar and punctuation, as well as the occasional emoji or two.

But he's far from being a dry-texter. On the contrary, he’s rather cheeky.

And because of his position in Passione after a certain point, work soaks up a lot of his time. He’d much rather call you, but that’s simply not an option most days.

So he simply pokes and teases you over text. Sitting alone in his office, he almost always wears a tiny yet pleasant smile on his face when he reads whatever you send him.

Giorno doesn’t send memes or funny pictures often, but when he does, it’s either pure gold or ridiculously unfunny. Merely doing it every now and then to get a little bit of a rise out of you, of all things.

And he loves it even more if you’re the type to tease him right back:

Pannacotta Fugo

Practically the inventor of double-texting.

He’s got no shame in it either, and if anything, he would argue that him sending multiple messages means you ought to reply. He’s not exactly impatient with you, though.

He usually uses proper grammar over text as well. More than that, he’ll lecture anyone case for not doing the same. He even once pointed out a simple mistake Abbacchio made.

It’s merely lighthearted teasing if you’re the type to not use proper grammar over text, though. Fugo wears his favoritism for you on his sleeve whenever he gets on Narancia’s case for the same exact reason.

That said, when he’s angry, forget about grammar- you just want to be able to understand him.

He complains to you over text... a lot. The outlet is good for him, in a sense. Fugo’s incredibly grateful to have someone like you who will listen to him so earnestly, and he expresses that often. Considering his temper, it really does mean so much more to him than he knows how to express.

It makes knowing whether or not he’s genuinely upset or just playing around easy for you to figure out, at least. Are his text messages legible? If so, there's no reason for concern.

Once, he was ranting to you about a disagreement that arose between him and Abbacchio. His texts were steadily becoming hard to understand, and you prepared yourself to talk to your boyfriend through his anger.

But before you could, he stopped texting you all together.

That was rather confusing, as he’s the type to continue blowing up your phone when frustrated. It wasn’t until almost twenty minutes later, when you saw Mista’s contact pop up for a phone a call, that you found out why.

It was Fugo on the other end, calling from Mista’s phone to bashfully inform you he chucked his own phone out of anger and ended up breaking it.

Later that year, you got him one of those expensive cases that could likely protect a phone falling from absurd heights for Fugo’s birthday. He seemed a bit embarrassed over it, but appreciated the gift nonetheless (He won’t admit it but it does come in handy).

You just cannot stop yourself from teasing him a little bit, especially over the phone. His indulgent reactions are worth it every single time:

Narancia Ghirga

He’s bound to make you cry from laughter over text. Whether it’s his words alone or a meme he sends you from his vast collection (His phone is almost always on the brink of running out of storage), making you laugh comes naturally to him.

It’s a source of pride for him, so reacting bombastically over text is exactly what he’s looking for.

Narancia is also a major sucker for gossip, so he loves sharing everything he hears with you over text. From a random conversation he eavesdropped overhead while out, to drama taking place within Bucciarati’s group.

Doing the same in return is greatly appreciated, as he adores hearing your input.

He’ll also text you at random asking questions like “What did Buccarati want me to do again?” and “Do you happen to know where I put my notebook?” Whenever he racks his brain and cannot find an answer to a dilemma, he’s almost always going to voice his confusion to you with little hesitation.

He’s sent you those types of texts... while on missions. Snitching to Bucciarati is not advised.

You’ve tried telling him he could type those sorts of things down in his notes, but he either forgets to do so or wrongfully assumes that he’ll remember.

Narancia, Mista, Fugo, and you have a groupchat separate from the others on the team. Considering the madness that regularly occurs on it, Narancia’s proud to mention he’s the one who originally suggested the idea.

That said, as much as he likes to text you, he’s not the type to text you good morning and good night every day. Rather, he texts you only when “he has something to say.” Which... is often enough on its own.

He will also complain to you over text often as well. Although, it's not usually out of outright anger:

[icerisotto]

⟡﹒ spuntino ' ꒱

⌦ genre: smut with light fluff and light angst.

⌦ type: oneshot.

⌦ status: finished.

⌦ couple: bucciarati﹢ mista﹢ abbacchio.

⌦ warnings: prostitution, mentions of violence, sex, one-night stand, poverty.

☆ plot:

Abbacchio gets more than he bargained for when he sends his boyfriend out to buy their dinner. Or, Mista leaves their place with the promise of a snack and returns with a prostitute.

★ where to read: here.

[patchy-cupid]

bruabba fans come get your 6k hurt comfort pwp smut fic ;D

[jjkamochoso]

Jojo’s Bizarre Adventure Masterlist

Main masterlist

PART 4

Jotaro Kujo

ANGST, FLUFF: A Cinderella Story

Rohan Kishibe

FLUFF: Teaching Rohan to Sew Clothes (headcanons)

PART 5

Leone Abbacchio

ANGST, FLUFF: I’ve Loved You a Leone Time

Guido Mista

FLUFF: The Gift of Guido

FLUFF: Let’s Get This Bread