#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 grateful 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.

[sugarcherris]

Narancia who looks up to reader headcanons

Brotherly & Older sister bond

Aka: chaotic sibling energy, platonic, wholesome, domestic, fluff, a bit of angst, and Mista being Mista mentions his own dick

(Reader is a chainsmoker... don't smoke kids)

Narancia “borrows” (Reader)’s eyeliner

(Reader) has the perfect winged liner, sharp enough to cut someone. Narancia starts trying to copy it. He sucks at it at first and pokes himself in the eye. She doesn’t help him right away,just watches with that smug little grin.

When he finally nails it, (Reader) gives him a smug, approving head pat.

“There you go. Didn’t even stab yourself in the eye with my eyeliner this time.”

He flips her off but preens the rest of the day.

Team reactions:

Fugo: “You two are unhinged.”

Mista: “I’m stealing this look too. Pass the mirror.”

Abbacchio: Glares in disgust but looks just a second too long at the wing.

(Reader) calls him “ragazzino” (little boy) when shes feeling playful or condescending

It infuriates him.

“I’m not a kid, dammit!”

“Then stop kicking the back of the van seat or I will tie your knees with your bandana!”

He still lets her ruffle his hair right after that.

They have stupid secret handshakes

Not one. Multiple.

They change it every month and forget half of it mid-handshake and just turn it into a slap fight.

Somehow it always ends with (Reader) flicking Narancia in the forehead.

They make “mixtapes” for each other

Narancia starts writing her tracklists of songs he thinks she’d like—rock, metal, dramatic anime OPs he won’t admit he loves.

(Reader) writes hers on torn napkins in lipstick: metalcore breakdowns, and “old people music,” according to Narancia.

Bonus

Fugo: (Secretly steals one of (Reader)’s playlists. Pretends he didn’t.)

Narancia hides behind her when Bucciarati’s mad

Classic younger sibling move. Bucciarati raised his voice, and Narancia ducks behind (Reader)

(Reader) just raises an eyebrow, does not protect him, and says,

“Don’t drag me into this. He’s mad at you, not me.”

Narancia stares in betrayal

Bonus:

Later she sneaks him a sweet from her pocket when Bucciarati isn’t looking.

They graffiti stuff together

They tag alley walls with little stylized versions of each other’s names or dumb phrases like “(stand name) was here (so was Aerosmith)”.

(Reader)’s handwriting is elegant and sharp. Narancia’s is chaotic. Together it looks unhinged.

Team reactions

Bucciarati: “You tagged our safehouse?”

Narancia: “It’s ART.”

(Reader): “It’s coded. They won’t know what it means.”

Fugo: “You used your stand names! They’ll know exactly what it means!”

Abbacchio: “I hate you all.”

They try to cook together once. Just once.

The kitchen never recovers. Powdered sugar on the ceiling. A knife embedded in the floor. Fire extinguisher was used. Twice.

Bucciarati puts them on kitchen probation. (Reader) sneaks in anyway. Narancia just watches for lookout and giggles.

Narancia “guards” her cigarettes

She left her pack behind one time and he grabs it, dramatically guarding it like a chihuahua.

“If you want them, you have to answer three riddles.”

“Narancia, I will kick your ass.”

She gets them back by pulling his bandana down over his eyes and just taking them.

He once tried to steal a cigarette from her. Never again.

(Reader) had left a half smoked cigarette on the ashtray, and Narancia, wanting to be cool, took a quick drag.

Immediate, violent coughing fit. Red watery eyes. Almost fell off the chair.

(Reader) didn’t even look up. Just chuckled

“Yeah, that’s what I thought.”

The whole team laughed except for Bucciarati, who just sighed.

Bonus:

Narancia still tries to act like he smokes sometimes, resting an unlit cigarette between his fingers like she does with her lit one. He gets so mad when she calls him out on it.

Narancia falls asleep next to her during long car rides.

She lets it happen. Doesn’t shove him off.

He sleeps with his head leaning against the window at first, but eventually, when he gets really exhausted, his head tips onto her shoulder.

The first time, she smirks and mutters, “Comfortable?”

The fifth time, she just sighed and quietly adjusts her jacket so it drapes over him a little. Doesn’t say a word.

Team reactions:

Bucciarati: Says nothing but notice with a warm smile.

Mista:Giggling, thinking it’s cute but will draw on narancia face and (Reader) lets him.

Fugo: Mild disgust. “You’re drooling on her.”

Abbacchio: “Wake him up by pushing him out of the car. Do it. For me.”

(Reader) hates it when Narancia pulls reckless stunts.

Few times, he jumped into a fight headfirst before backup arrived.

He came out fine, but (Reader) was furious. She never yells at him except that time. After much built up frustrations because of his mistakes and words entering his ear out the other.

“Do you wanna die? Huh? That’s your goal?”

He snapped back at her “What the hell are you my mom?shut the hell up bitch!”

Silence. Tension. He stormed off, but later that night, she threw a bag of sweets at his head.

They never talked about it, but the next mission, she covered him a little closer.

if (Reader) has tattoos? Narancia wants to get a tattoo because she has them.

“What if I get something cool? Like a knife? Or a skull? Or or or A PLANE!”

(Reader), blowing out smoke “You’d cry.”

“No, I wouldn’t!”

He drags her to a parlor once. The moment the needle comes close, he flinches hard.

“I’m not ready yet,” he mutters. She crosses her arm looking amused and pays the guy off.

If (Reader) has piercings? Narancia tries to copy her piercings

• He gets a second ear piercing by stapling his ears (Staplers were stolen from Bucciarati office) just because he saw hers glinting in the sun one day. She just chuckled at his stupidity whilst treating the infection.

• "Thought it looked cool on you... So..."

•She just hums, but she's clearly smiling. She took him to the piercer parlor the next day.

Team reactions:

Mista: "Sickkkk, should | get a dick piercing?"

Fugo: "You're all stupid."

Bucciarati: Groaning mentally. Locking his office next time.

Abbacchio: "Jesus Christ."

Giorno: (Standing on the side ready to give him a new ear)

"If you died I'd go feral.”

•(Reader) stares at him with an unreadable expression" Good."

• It's said like a joke, but the silence after it hangs a little longer than it should.

“If I go first, you better not cry, ragazzino.”

Mafia life is dangerous. They joke about it sometimes.

Narancia, scoffing: “You’re not gonna die before me.You’re much stronger and smarter than me!If anything it’ll be me.”

(Reader), tilting her head: “Mmm. You sure?”

He hates that answer. He doesn’t know why, but it sticks with him longer than it should.

When she’s out late, Narancia worries.

He’s not obvious about it, but if she’s gone longer than expected, he starts getting antsy.

Checks his watch. Paces. Cold hands.

If she comes back with blood on her glove, he doesn’t ask questions, just mutters, “You good?”

She grins, “Why? Miss me?”

He huffs, “Pfft No, just making sure you didn’t get your dumb ass killed.”

They both know he was actually worried.

This is my first time writing a fanfic/headcanon! Phewwww hope you guys enjoyed this!! Maybe I’ll write narancia and (reader) first meeting and how they bond grew to be 🫡

[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.”

[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.”

[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!)

[lady-wallace]

Abbacchio Week Day 3: Play

Catching up a little with @abbacchioweek this was friday's prompt, so a little late, but I hope you will all enjoy some fluff featuring Abbacchio and his daughter Rose from my Hearts of Gold series.

~~~~~~~

3: Play

“More tea Mr. Papa?”

            “Of course, My Lady.” Leone held out the tiny cup, receiving a dripping top-off to his lemonade “tea”.

            If anyone had told him three years ago that he would be attending a nearly Lilliputian tea party with the esteemed company of Grumpy Bear, Miss Midnight, and Signore Scales, he would have thought the notion was ridiculous, but having a daughter changed everything.

            After receiving a little tea set with her namesake painted on it as a birthday gift from Uncle Fugo, Rose had taken to obsessing over having tea parties. Most of the time, with pretend tea and her favorite stuffed animals, but occasionally with one of the adults as a guest, and juice and snacks.

            “The tea is very delightful, Lady Rose,” he commented politely as he shifted on the cushion he was sitting on. He hadn’t realized how bad his knees were until he had started getting on the floor to play with Rose but it was worth it to see her smile.

            It was worth putting on his suit to attend a stuffed animal tea party—because the stuffed animals were dressing up too, so it was only proper. And Rosie in her little red tulle dress Trish had made that made her look like a little flower was in her element as the gracious host.

            So, when he was asked, “Another cookie, Mr. Papa?” of course he had to say yes.

            Leone had never thought he was capable of such love, but it turned out that he adored this little girl as much as she did him.

[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.

.

.

.

[thelatestplxgue]

Dropped a new bruabba fic, keep Bruno weird!

https://archiveofourown.org/works/63903613

[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.

[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:

[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

[thus-wrote-mrs-zeppeli]

“I love you.”

Various jjba characters and how they express their affection for you

Content: lots of fluff and physical affection, inclusion of Dio being shallow and manipulative, alcohol and alcoholism mentioned, slightly suggestive

Written in headcanons style

Characters: Joseph Joestar (part 2), DIO, Rohan Kishibe, Bruno Bucciarati, Leone Abbacchio, Guido Mista, Gyro Zeppeli

-Joseph Joestar: You will be drowning in his loud affection one way or another. Such a physically affectionate partner, his lips pressed all over you, a constant flirt with wandering hands (and sometimes wandering eyes). He always aims to impress you or show off, and makes an effort to remember your likes and dislikes. He might tease, but he’s usually careful to not push you too far. Always jumping in to defend you; your sad face cuts him deeper than you know. You shouldn’t ever have to cry out of anguish, it is something he simply won’t stand for. If you do cry around him, you can guarantee he won’t be resting til you’re smiling again. He puts every effort into making you feel better when you’re down; it’s one of the rare moments you see him choose to behave seriously in front of you.

-DIO: Love…When you’re around him and he says his affection for you is deep and endless, it is very believable. He had such a way with words he could convince you of most anything, honestly. He could tell you you were the only one he ever saw, his favorite, he wishes he could spend his eternity by your side and of course he would if it wouldn’t be so cruel to take your humanity by turning you into a vampire. Or so he says.

It sounds ridiculous when you reflect on it when you’re away from him. Of course he’s just telling you what you want to hear, why do you keep coming back?!

And yet you return and return and return. Even though it was only shallow lust, if it came from Lord Dio it felt like you were with your soulmate. Maybe that’s the limit of the affection he will ever feel for you. A lust, a desire just deep enough that he will put some effort into taking care of you. His “love” comes from words, waxing empty poetic to you. And, of course, promising to give you whatever it is you truly want. He will make it happen. All you need to do is swear your loyalty to him, and he will grant you any desire you seek…

And if that desire is him? You can have your fill whenever you please~

-Rohan Kishibe: He is not a subtle man, nor does he try to be. A mere glance will show you the true impact you have on him…after all…you so often appear in his works. And so blatantly too. This character has your eyes. That character has a birthmark just like yours. One says things you would say. One dresses in your style. A piece of you, each time. It is how he wants it. He is proud to admit you are his ultimate muse, his favorite inspiration. Whenever he’s fighting art block, he turns to you.

Though, he is not so good with actually verbalizing the depths of his affection for you. He’s not the best at physical affection either. He won’t hold hands for long, he often doesn’t know how to respond to kisses and hugs, and usually he doesn’t get too close at night, if he even comes to bed at all.

It is enough for you. It doesn’t matter so much to you that he isn’t an expert in verbal or physical affection. You feel every ounce of his passionate love for you when he asks you to model for him, even though you know an exceptionally brilliant artist like him doesn’t need you to do a basic pose for him. And it does not go unnoticed to you that the poses he requests are always very comfortable for you to hold on the couch.

-Bruno Bucciarati: He takes care of you. It is what he does, and it is how he shows his love. You’re eating at a restaurant, he will pay the check. Stuck in a crowd? His hand will be on the small of your back, maybe subconsciously, or maybe deliberately, so he won’t lose track of you. He’ll drive you home at night, and wait til he sees you’re safely inside. He is a sanctuary.

Though he is not the most in tune with his emotions, and clear communication is difficult for him sometimes, but damnit if he doesn’t try for your sake. He’s very busy, but he makes an effort to carve out some time for you where you can both have some peace and quiet, and a heart-to-heart.

When it’s just the two of you, he’s able to lower that guard of his. You can always tell he’s tired. But he puts you and everyone else he cares about first, every time.

You lean against his chest. He is so tense, but he allows himself to slump his shoulders and hold you close. He talks for a bit, just being honest with you, vulnerable. And then he goes quiet, his chin resting against the top of your head.

His breathing is soft, his hands gently slide down your arms…he had fallen asleep. A rare opportunity for you to take care of him without him protesting has finally presented itself…

-Leone Abbacchio: Sure he is a jaded and broken and horribly grumpy man but he is also very capable of affection and care, even if he’s not the best at showing it. Despite his crass personality, he has suffered so much, so he can also empathize much more than you’d initially think. Though that doesn’t make him great at giving you comfort or affirming speeches. His love comes from reassurance; usually words are unnecessary. He’ll always sit beside you wherever you go. If someone tries to take his spot next to you at a restaurant, he’ll drag them out of that seat if he has to. What is his is also yours. You want to drink his wine? Sure, don’t mind the purple lipstick on the rim of the glass. The depth of his physical affection is deepest when you share a quiet evening together. His hand on your shoulder, face pressed against your neck. Whether it’s him taking a quick moment to reflect (you’re his pillar, and he’s reminded of it especially when his troubles seem to melt away when he presses his forehead against the back of your neck), or he’s a little drunk and trusts you to straighten him out (his pillar, his pillar…even when he’s indulged in too many bad habits and slurs his words and stains your neck with purple lipstick as he falls asleep nestled against you, you are always so kind and patient to him, but always firm). He is broken, his regrets follow him like a vengeful ghost, he will never be good enough for you in his own eyes. But damn it if he won’t at least try.

-Guido Mista: His hand in yours, quick kisses up your arms all the way up to your cheek. His bullets swirling around him constantly gushing about how nice and amazing you are and begging Mista to go see you again so they can Also see you. The mercilessness when he digs his fingers into your skin and tickles you until he ends up getting hurt from your elbow hitting his nose on accident from your squirming.

He calls your name just to get you to look at him. He thinks you smell SO good, especially after you freshen up with your favorite scent, but he actually worries about looking weird around you so he might not say anything. Guess he doesn’t realize it’s much weirder to silently sneak in sniffs instead of telling you he likes how you smell. He’s even more impulsive than usual when you’re involved. If he has money in his pocket and you seem slightly interested in something you can bet he’s opening up his wallet and buying it for you.

You do a lot for him, a steady and familiar comfort in his crazy life…so let him blow a couple bucks on you when he wants to. Seeing you happy when he manages to get you something you like is one of his greatest joys in life.

-Gyro Zeppeli: Watch his hands, he’ll put them all over you when the opportunity presents itself. He’s not a gentleman, you already knew that. He doesn’t even try to talk like one. He loves how you feel in his lap, and he’s not shy about saying it out loud. One of life’s greatest joys is a drink in one hand, and his other hand supporting the back of a cute thing like you sitting on his thighs. If you walk by him, you Know that man is gonna try and playfully spank you. Put your hands in his hair, he loves when you play with it, but choose your timing because it might put him in a mood if you tug on it. And of course he’ll delight you with the spin, if you let him. He uses it so gently with you, easing your sore muscles after a long day, or sending pleasant sensations rippling across your skin. Or using it to cause a bit of mischief. A sudden jolt through your body when he wants your attention, or a relentless tickling that has you laughing and writhing and begging him to knock it off.

He holds onto you like a teddy bear when the two of you snuggle up for the night. His muscular arms wrapped around you, clinging to you, snuggling his face against you.

It can be suffocating at times. He’s just so. Big and strong. But damn do you feel safe, and you haven’t the heart to push him away when he wants to hold you at night.

He does this thing where he gives you something he values, so you can hold onto it for him and give it back to him later. It’s how he shows his trust for you. Hold on to one of his belt buckles, or his goggles, or his hat…give it back at your leisure. He insists. He knows you’ll keep it safe, and it’ll remind you of him if you hold onto it. In his eyes it’s a win win.

[silly-l1ttle-guy]

Guys read my Fugio fic again (reblog it or I'm slorping you)

the fugio fanfic i wrote in my science book <3

EXPECT THIS TO BE REALLY BAD AND PREPARE TO CRINGE

warning for angst btw, this is a sad one </3

------------------

Pannacotta Fugo never thought he would fall in love. A man of his origins would find it hard to fall in love without fear, and yet, he did.

He knew he was a goner the moment he laid his eyes upon his new teammate, Giorno Giovanna, who looked far too gorgeous to be real.

That curly golden hair and those light green eyes had drawn in Fugo before he could even realize it, and by the time he did, he was in far too deep to be pulled back out.

Naturally he tried to hide it, going as far as to even resent Giorno for a little while. However, anyone who looked at Fugo could see his eyes light up and his pupils turn to hearts every time he looked towards Giorno.

Giorno, on the other hand, had known he was in love with Fugo from the first time they had laid eyes upon each other as well. But, unlike Fugo, he fully embraced his feelings, rather than trying to hide than.

The golden haired boy would often find himself staring at Fugo; silently taking in his pale blond hair, which was probably more close to white in colour, and those cherry red eyes of his that would occasionally glance back at Giorno with what seemed to be a longing desire for some sort of love or affection, but would quickly be last as Fugo would avert his eyes elsewhere.

It was hard to hide his face heating up, unfortunately.

Neither would confess, for different reasons. Giorno wanted to wait for a more romantic setting, in the right place at the right time. Fugo just wasn't ready for something like that. He was hoping his feelings would disappear if he just got used to Giorno being around, which of course, would never happen. This left the duo to quietly admire each other silently, without the other knowing.

Fugo would often settle his tender gaze on Giorno when he thought no one was looking, while Giorno would sigh quietly and stare longingly at Fugo whenever he could, only looking away whenever Fugo would notice and look back with a slight blush and a questioning expression.

It wasn't long before Mista and Narancia inevitably caught on to Fugo's little crush, and would tease Fugo endlessly for it. He'd deny it every time, much to their amusement.

This often resulted in Fugo getting frustrated and yelling at Narancia and Mista, who'd giggling and run off before his violent tendencies could arise.

Despite Fugo's uncontrollable anger, it always seemed that he'd calm down in Giorno's presence. Giorno would actually listen to Fugo ranting about something he was interested in, which didn't happen often.

Giorno could calm him down far better than Bucciarati could, and that said something.

Fugo usually hated physical touch, due to specific events he went through before he joined Passione, but when Giorno would hold his hand and reassure him quietly, he found himself yearning for Giorno to just hug him tightly and let him cool down.

Giorno was very patient with Fugo, and would never overstep any of his boundaries. He didn't know why Fugo hated physical touch so much, but he figured it was best to leave some questions unasked. Giorno would never do anything more than hold Fugo's hand, which Fugo had initiated the first time, unless Fugo specifically asked him to do so.

Bucciarati, after catching on to Fugo's feelings for Giorno, would try to give him advice on approaching the golden-haired boy, though it never worked out.

"Fugo?" Giorno looked up from the tea he was drinking, as he noticed Fugo had entered the room.

Fugo closed the door behind him, looking at Giorno with a nervous gaze. "Am I interrupting you, Giogio?" He asked, not wanting to interrupt.

The don smiled and shook his head, placing the teacup down on the table. "Of course not. Please, come join me. You look like you need some company."

Fugo mumbled out an "alright" and sat across from Giorno, keeping his head down as he fidgeted with his hands.

"What's troubling you?" Giorno asked gently, looking at the boy across from him with a caring gaze. He focused his pale green eyes on Fugo, tilting his head to the side.

Fugo found that adorable.

The pale boy hesitated for a moment, scratching at the scars on his cheeks, before answering. "I'm just... lonely," He spoke with a downcast expression, shaking slightly.

"I keep thinking about them... Narancia, Abbacchio, and..." He paused, feeling the tears form in his eyes as he tried to stop them from spilling out. "... And Bucciarati... I- I miss them. A lot."

Giorno's gaze seemed to soften at Fugo's disheveled state, as he reached across the table to place his hand over Fugo's. "It's hard. I know it is, Pannacotta. To learn that almost everyone in your team had been killed must be difficult, especially with how close you were with each of them. Finding out about Narancia and Abbacchio dying must've been hard enough, but to find out that Bucciarati had followed along too? It must be heart wrenching to hear about such a thing."

Fugo looked up at Giorno, surprised that he had called his by his first name, but he didn't exactly mind it.

Giorno stared deep into Fugo's teary red eyes, gently rubbing circles into the back of Fugo's hand with his thumb as the white haired boy started to break. 'I'm here for you, Pannacotta. Mista, Sheila, and everyone is here for you, too. If you ever need anything, I'm right here for you. Don't ever forget that. I love you."

I love you, those words made Fugo finally break down fully as he let out a broken sob, trying desperately to wipe away his tears as he cried.

Fugo was never a fan of crying in front of others, yet he cried in front of Giorno again and again, never really knowing why. Perhaps it was his feelings of love and admiration that helped him open up to Giorno, or maybe it was the fact that he knew Giorno was a kind soul at heart, much like Bucciarati, and yet, so different from him.

Either way, he felt like he needed this.

Giorno looked at him with an expression akin to one of deep concern, before standing up and walking around the table to sit next to the distressed boy. Once he sat down, he went to hold Fugo's hand, but the albino boy leaned into Giorno before he could do anything, hiding his face into Giorno's shoulder and practically throwing his arms around him.

Giorno was surprised, but wrapped his arms around Fugo gently, as Fugo tried desperately to stop crying. He felt like he was embarrassing himself in front of the boy he liked.

"I miss them..." Fugo whimpered, grasping tightly at Giorno's shirt for comfort. Giorno simply kept his arms around Fugo's waist, ever so gently pulling him closer.

Giorno quietly whispered reassurance to Fugo, telling him that he would always be there for him, that he loved him, that it was all ok.

Fugo eventually calmed down after a bit, just resting his head on Giorno's shoulder as the latter rubbed his back in a soothing pattern. The pair sat in silence, with Fugo subconsciously playing with Giorno's hair as they embraced each other.

"Pannacotta," Giorno said suddenly, in a calm, quiet voice. Fugo paused and lifted his head to look at Giorno, his eyes red and puffy from crying. The blond smiled at Fugo, brushing his hair out of his face. "I love you."

Fugo's eyes widened at his words, finally having processed that Giorno had confessed his love towards him multiple times today, but he only now realized that. He smiled, and leaned in to kiss Giorno.

Giorno kissed back softly, pulling away after only a few seconds. His lips were soft, whereas Fugo's were chapped.

"I love you too, Giogio."

----------- END

HOLY FUCK IM SO SORRY FOR DELAYING IT THIS LONG

I didn't mean to make you guys wait for over a month I swear. anyway i love my gay boys and I honestly expected this to be longer, but oh well. I might post some diavolo and doppio headcanons either tomorrow or later to today