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#leone abbacchio fluff
danddymaro · 1 year
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In that Instance | Abbacchio Leone x Reader
Kinda fluffy? 
flashbacks
Mentions of Death | Sorry lol
Word Count: 1290
In that instance
It was an instant ;  a single moment that could be measured by a sole heartbeat where it all transpired.
 - There wasn't any time in between, yet somehow, before him, various instances flashed. 
He thought about the first time he met you, how that little greeting of yours had made him anxious... flustered. 
It’d been worse when Bucciarati took notice, because the knowing smile he shot him was a lot more mortifying than all of the encouragement it tried to provide.
“Did your heart just skip a beat?” the other man dared to ask as he brushed past him, following you into the restaurant before Abbacchio stumbled forward, trying to find a way to steady the awful, obnoxious drumming of his heart.
In a single second Abbacchio remembered how your expression had melted at his offering of flowers for your birthday.
It was unforgettable how the very patterns of your features reacted to his gesture.
 -Flowers. 
The last time he'd offered a woman flowers was at his nonna's funeral way before then. 
And it'd only been a single blossom, not the assorted bouquet that had been nervously held before him as he tried to spit out a casual, 'Happy birthday' after everyone else had already done so.  
He felt that it were nothing in comparison to the lovely pendant Bruno had picked out for you, or as meaningful as the assortment of things Fugo had given you which Narancia had piggybacked off. 
Mista had gotten you something simple, but from what he’d bragged about, it’d been something you’ve been eyeing at that the mall for quite some time.
 Leone had thought thought his gift was practically nothing to fawn over, but to his surprise you’d seemed much more affected by his own, simple gift than any other.
He couldn’t stop staring at the lovely heart shape that sat right at your collarbone, the light haired man biting his inner cheek as he cursed himself for not getting you something better.
-Something you were worthy of.
-Something that other people would look at , and know it came from someone that cared about you.
"You got me flowers..." you said, your voice soft as though you couldn't believe it, like you were being given something much more valuable than a few colorful blossoms that would wilt in a couple of weeks.
Either you couldn't fathom that Abbacchio Leone had been kind enough to offer you flowers, or you'd never gotten them before and he couldn't tell which was the case. 
Well, there was also the thought that it’d been such a shitty present he actually brought you to tears, but he tried not to think of that.
Anxiously, he watched your eyes as they slowly flooded with tears, your lashes misted by a soft dew as you tried to hold back,
 "- no one's ever gotten me flowers," you say with a quiet chuckle, feeling silly for being so emotional over it. 
No one had ever done so, but you’d always desired it.
Because, deep inside you were a helpless romantic who's, unfortunately, never been treated as such.
Your confession took him by surprise.
It was the first time he'd seen you cry, and surprisingly, it'd been a sight he smiled at. 
He'd smiled in a subtle manner, his face touched by just the softest blush too.
 He'd given you a first, and he wanted to be the only one to continue to do so, even if he’d yet to win your heart.
- He though you deserved it. 
 Romanticism had never been his forte, and yet,  according to you , it was like he'd written the book on it. 
You swooned at his affection, glowed under his attention and he'd never heard anything but praise from you making him feel like he'd done so much right. 
- And after feeling like an utter screw up it was something he couldn't get past.
The restaurant was lit by only a few candles, and the fragrance of freshly sprouted roses tickled your nose. 
It was a scene you hadn’t expected.
Looking down at the ground you looked at the scattered red petals as they lead to a table set for two, yet another surprise.
“What...” your breath was cut short as you looked at the man beside you who had brought you to the restaurant. 
“What’s all this?” you asked him as he got that teary eyed, yet happy expression from you. 
“ I told you... I wanted to take you out for dinner,” he told you while stepping forward before turning back, his hand extended to you.
At that very moment, it dawned onto you that Abbacchio meant it as a date.
It’d been to your surprise that he asked out, but you’d accepted it none the less, truly grateful, not thinking about it for even a second, especially when he’d called it ‘ his treat.’
-His gift to you since the year before he’d given you nothing but flowers for your birthday, and he wanted to make the current one much more special.
When he’d mentioned  Libeccio you hadn’t been too surprised, but you’d been happy to accept either way, expecting a simple outing, not an empty venue.
 You also hadn’t expected the candles. 
Nor  the flowers that waited for you on your seat after you traveled through the petal decorated ground.
You hadn’t expected him to hold your hand throughout it, or even pull your chair out for you. 
The wine that had been poured for you had caught your eye, because it wasn’t his regular brand, though you’d recognized it as a higher quality, it being yet another surprise.
But nothing had been as impactful as his confession that lead to a proclamation of love. 
“You’re in love with me?” you said back with stunned surprised, your entire expression touched by that awe. 
He released a little sigh as his shoulders dropped, a sheepish smile gracing his dark tinted lips, “ I was so worried I was too obvious,” he revealed, making you laugh.
Of course you told him how you felt, how wonderful you thought he was, and how you never imagined he’d see you in the same light.
.
.
.
They say that when a person's life is at its end, their life flashes before their eyes. 
He'd always wondered what would be true, and he'd give anything to tell you that at that moment he hadn't thought about his past, the one that had haunted him for so long. 
He hadn't thought about his decent childhood or even his one weighing burden that had spiraled him into darkness.
He hadn't even thought about the undoubtable pain that came the moment his body registered the brute strike. 
Instead, he thought about how happy you'd been when he got you those flowers. 
He thought about how wonderful it felt to kiss you, how you felt when molded by his hands, how you smelled of your signature perfume he felt honored to have cling to him. 
He'd thought about how he could feel your smile during those little presses, how much his heart raced when you pushed further, wanting more from him. 
"-I need you," never before has he been so eager to please anyone. 
"Come on," you didn't need to pull him anywhere because he'd follow you blindly, because life with you felt like an entire adventure.
"I love you," it was instinct to pull you close and repeat the words.
"- Don't go," Your little pout always had him trudging back to bed, unable to just say no. 
“Please...” that single word could make him do just about anything.
His eyes tiredly trailed towards his stand, watching it take the form of the last face he'd seen, one he could only hope would come nowhere near you. 
He knew he wouldn't be able to tell you how much he loved you, how much you meant to him;
 How much his family meant to him.
There was no time. 
However, there was just one thing left, one last act that would sum it up. 
And the single stone shard clutched in his cold hand was the precious missing piece that would lead you to his final message.
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inkpot909 · 8 months
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First Love Headcanons: Pannacotta Fugo x Reader
↳ Gender neutral reader.
A/n: This was so much fun to write! Fugo is such an interesting character to write for that I couldn’t help but fuss over this one for a good while. I hope y’all enjoy it as well. <3
Warning(s): None.
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It started out innocently enough, as Fugo is not the type to fall in love overnight.
Curiosity itself is a perfectly normal reaction to have regarding a new member of Bucciarati’s team. Fugo is no exception to this, as he no doubt harbored questions about you when you initially joined.
That said, his approach is different compared to the others on the team. If you join after Mista, Narancia, and Abbacchio, they do just fine on their own intimating you at the very start.
Past the initial meeting, where some lighthearted hazing is likely to occur from everyone, Fugo sees no reason to contribute to any form of poking and prodding outside of missions. You already have to get used to so many strong personalities at once, after all.
He’s been with Bucciarati since the formation of his team, so he’s quite accustomed to getting used to someone new being around. Hell, if he wasn’t so closed off, he would’ve thought to feel bad for you.
Due to the walls he’s long put up, he prefers to remain observant from afar for a good while. Regardless of when you enter the picture, he’s going to keep his distance.
He’s not as good at reading people as someone like Giorno, but he trusts what he can decipher.
This will likely result in Fugo making some assumptions about you prior to the two of you finding equal footing. Whether or not his judgements turn out correct is unknown to you, as he doesn’t care share them with you to begin with.
This does lead to some aspects of your personality to be surprising to him. Nothing bad, just little details about you that he wasn’t expecting.
Your hobbies may be what’s shocking, or perhaps the type of media you prefer to consume. Little aspects of life and personality that unfold because of how much time the team spends together. The discovery of such things is what likely makes him feel more inclined to get to know you better.
Little by little, Fugo will eventually start including you in conversations and vise versa. Especially when Narancia and Mista are involved, he begins to turn to you it in an attempt to keep himself sane:
Mista and Narancia’s relentless chatter is still intimating.
How can you even approach a guy like Mista? He’s more than proven himself to be the type that says anything and everything that pops into his brain. Although he is certainly the relaxed type, his words can be quite vicious if he’s in the mood to tease and you just so happen to be in his line of sight. Sit him next to a full-time enabler like Narancia, and the two can go off on pretty much any topic imaginable.
Their conversations at the dinner table are wild, spontaneous, and still- even after more than a month of knowing them -manage to catch you off guard. Sometimes it’s thought-provoking and other times… not so much.
Which leads to their current conversation, one you sincerely wish wouldn’t take place while you’re trying to eat.
“I’m just saying-“ Mista argues, waving his fork in the air, “If it promotes a soothing and relaxing environment within the human body, I don’t see why it’s so unbelievable that it could also theoretically resonate with your bowels as well.”
“Yeah, maybe-“ Narancia rolls his eyes, “But that doesn’t mean it’s gonna make you crap your freaking pants! That’s ridiculous.”
“It’s not ridiculous; it’s psychology.” Mista retorts, raising a brow. His smug expression does nothing to convince you, or a bewildered Fugo sitting next to you, his knowledge on the subject. But it is enough to grind Narancia’s gears, which ultimately, is probably the key to his actual intent.
Still… you think, staring at your food with a pinched nose. It’s the brown noise. They’re actually trying to prove or disprove the psychological effects of the brown noise. Why on earth… no, how on earth can either of them discuss such a thing with a straight face?
“What kind of messed up psychoglogy-“
“Psychology,” Fugo cuts in with a sigh.
“-Yeah, whatever,” Narancia dismisses with a wave of his hand, “What kind of messed up psycho-logically are you reading up on?”
Grunting in frustration, Fugo drops his forehead onto the table with an exaggerated thud. Mista and Narancia continue to argue amongst the two of them, but you instead direct your attention to the grumbling blonde.
“Umm… Fugo?” you ask, hesitant to even address him.
He raises his head from the table, looking at you with desperation in his dark violet eyes. “Please don’t tell me you think this is worth discussing.”
You raise both your hands in the air. “Are you kidding? I just wanted to eat, but apparently that’s unheard of here.”
Sighing once more, he runs his hand through his hair. His hand stops at his neck and rubs the back of it. “Trust me, I don’t get them either,” he shakes his head, hand finally returning to his lap, “I’m glad you don’t encourage this nonsense, though.”
You let out a chuckle, a little surprised. Sure, you’ve spoken with Fugo before, but hardly ever this casually. The notion brings a tiny smile to your face. “I can’t believe you’d ever think I would,” you reply lightheartedly.
“Well, hanging around these two must be making me lose critical thinking skills… my apologies,” he replies. Despite his words, a smile crawls it’s way onto his face too.
Casual conversations held between the two of you opens the door to the beginning of a genuine friendship.
Unlike Abbacchio, Fugo knows better than to be contrarian to everything you say and do just because you’re new. Considering his intellect, he has always done his best to be objective. And there eventually comes a point where, upon reflection, he figures that you’re alright.
By then, off missions, he started asking you- quite bluntly -questions about yourself.
Although forward, he won’t overwhelm you all at once. From time to time, you might catch him staring at you thoughtfully out the corner of your eye (Do not bring this up to him; he will deny it to his grave). A round of questions often followed his stares.
And it’s when he feels he really knows you on a personal level that he’s able to truly relax around you.
He started greeting you with the same kindness and courtesy he offers the others. He gave you encouragement throughout both your private and work life… a lot of it. Turning to you during conversations comes to be as natural as it is for anyone else on the team.
Fugo’s caring side may be blocked off behind walls he keeps up for the sake of self preservation and the result of an unhappy childhood, but once you’re allowed to peek beyond them, his sweetness really knows no limit.
And it’s through his behavior that developing feelings start to shine through.
Fugo’s not going to at all realize his feelings toward you until the truth is smacking him across the face. But his actions show a certain kind of fondness before he himself recognizes anything.
His expressed love languages are most commonly words of affirmation and acts of service. This is very much so the case in the early stages of him developing feelings.
The words of affirmation were never explicitly affectionate, but always careful and supportive.
Fugo beats himself up over his temper often, so when he can think straight, he’s using his mind to its full extent. In other words, because he’s easily blinded by rage, he chooses his words very carefully whenever he can.
So after a particularly rough mission, he may get upset at one point or another. During the quiet moments after the fact, when adrenaline isn’t flowing any longer, he always gives credit where credit is due. He’ll gently comment on your work throughout the job, expressing he thought you did good with examples to boot.
Or it can be something as simple as offering you a job well done after making yourself a dinner.
From always holding his tongue unless he disagreed with your actions or input, to showering you with praise constantly. It comes to him so naturally he doesn’t even think twice.
And soon, even others in the group start to take notice:
“I don’t wanna do this right now… Fugo’s not even here yet, can’t I just wait?” Narancia whines.
His head is resting on top of an open notebook, his right cheek squished against crumpled paper. Pencil lead is smushed on his cheek, but pointing out he’s likely ruining his work would be a waste of time.
Resting your elbows on the table, you give Narancia a playful smile. “He’s supposed to get here with Abbacchio in thirty minutes. You know you should’ve gotten more done by now…”
Narancia let out an obnoxious groan, rolling his head onto his opposite cheek so he no longer has to look you in the eye.
“Narancia…” you sigh, smile falling. “I’m sorry if it seems harsh, but Fugo asked me to make sure you practiced on his recent lesson. He and Abbacchio are out doing the heavy lifting for the team right now, so it’s the least I can do.”
Narancia replies, but mutters it out so quietly you don’t pick up on his words.
“What was that?”
“Nothing,” he says at a volume you can hear, half bitter and half teasing.
“Narancia-“
“I said,” he lifts his head from the table, “You think like that ‘cause he’s always so nice to you.”
“What?” you blurt, heart skipping a beat.
“He compliments you all the time,” he chuckles. The smugness in his tone only grows, and as he continues, heat rushes to your cheeks. “‘Oh, Y/n, you did such a good job today, Y/n.’ And, ‘Oh, Y/n, you’re so very smart why don’t you help out Narancia?’ And who could forget, ‘Oh, Y/n, you look very beautiful today. Why don’t you kiss me on my big fat mouth?’”
“H-He doesn’t say that!” you exclaim, absentmindedly pulling at your fingertips underneath the safety of the tablecloth.
“You gotta know what I mean, though!” he insists. Pausing in order to read your expression, another laugh escapes him. “What? You haven’t noticed?”
“Umm, well.” Your lips pucker out, unsure if you should feel intrigued or embarrassed. After a short pause, you continue, “Fugo compliments everyone; including you… you know? He believes you can do this. He wouldn’t put care into teaching you if he didn’t. And I’ve seen what you’ve accomplished myself too. I certainly know you can get this.”
“You’re changing the subject,” he points out.
“And that not what you’re trying to do?” you ask, gesturing towards his notebook.
Narancia blinks dumbly, bewildered by your response. For a moment, you become pleased with yourself. Seemingly, you’d backed him into a corner and couldn’t help but be a little proud of yourself for it.
“You really don’t know…” he utters, eyes suddenly brightening.
Wait, what? you think, confidence quickly dwindling.
A fit of laughter erupts from him, kicking his feet in the limited space underneath the table. The movement halts your hands. His chair creaks and squeaks in distress, quickly quieting down when he once again slams both feet back on the floor.
He eagerly hunches over his notebook, eyes wide. Snatching up his pencil, he finally begins scribbling on the paper once more.
You’re left staring at him in awe. “What…? So now… you’re good then? You’re just… you’re just going to continue your work?”
Narancia lets out another laugh. “Ha! Well, the sooner I finish, the sooner I can tell Mista about this. I can’t believe you’re so clueless!”
Narancia is calling you clueless… yikes.
The confusion you may have felt that afternoon is nothing compared to Fugo’s reeling mind when the others started pointing things out and teasing him over his supposed affection.
Fugo doesn’t remember when it started, but they didn’t wait long after noticing his feelings to begin teasing him over them.
He would cross his arms, turning away with an annoyed expression while a pool of denials flood from his mouth. With a reaction like that, Narancia and Mista especially enjoyed pushing his buttons on the subject.
Abbacchio would partake in teasing as well in his own little way. Namely, he began making straight-faced comments and turning smug the moment Fugo’s voice raises. Bucciarati mostly keeps quiet on the matter, but no one could miss the fond grin he wears when the others get on his case.
Once, Giorno called you Fugo’s boyfriend/girlfriend. A bashed remote and a broken plate later, Fugo is shocked to learn Giorno wasn’t picking on him and genuinely thought the two of you were together.
The guy must be either super egotistical or is just not at all used to being wrong about this kind of thing, Fugo distinctly thought.
But of course he’s wrong about this! Everyone’s comments made no sense to him at all! There’s no way he felt that much towards you. That kind of thing… is not for him. He may take note when someone’s attractive, but he’s never really thought too seriously about romantic relationships. Just because you’re attractive, doesn’t mean-
Nope… nope, nope, nope, nope. He’s not touching that one with a ten foot pole. No way.
But by the next time he’s helping you with dishes the concept pops into his brain. When he’s dotting on you after a mission it’s plaguing his mind. And he can’t help but notice how meticulous he is when retrieving your additions to the group’s grocery list.
Shit.
Fugo doesn’t know what to think. He really… does go out of his way for you at times. Well, okay, all the time. Looking back, he finds some of his actions to be a little embarrassing. And the more the notion is stuck in his brain, the more he starts understanding that he really does care about you more than just as a friend.
Which is a whole other problem. Fugo’s going to get completely stuck in his own head.
This is the very first time he’s felt this way about someone, and he’s a mess over his lack of knowledge on the subject.
Because what the hell is he supposed to do? Tell you…? Don’t be ridiculous. That notion is met with a mocking tone, as if the mere idea of doing so is itself far too absurd.
But still… there’s this overwhelming urge telling him he has to do something. According to the others he’s already doing something, apparently. But you’re not saying anything about it. Wouldn’t you say something about it if you noticed? What if you never notice on your own? You won’t know unless he makes some sort of move…. but surely that would cause the sky to fall and mark the beginning of end times.
It’s a real echo chamber of insecurity in his head.
Yet… he feels a weird compulsion to be closer to you despite himself. He gets a weirdly beautiful feeling when he’s around you and it flutters his heart so much he doesn’t want to just let it go. It’s brand new to him, and as much as he stresses, he holds onto his affection tight.
Even though it’s more annoying than not, the others are consistent enough with their jabs that it gives Fugo hope that just maybe…
One of the only times Bucciarati explicitly commented on it himself, he mentioned that he believes Fugo’s frustration with his feelings will eventually pass.
The tone he carried indicated that he must know something that Fugo doesn’t, which only made his mind run wild further. Because if you’re going to tell anyone on the team about your feelings, it would probably be him.
Regardless of how much Fugo begs, Bucciarati doesn’t confirm nor deny that hunch. He’s rather adamant that Fugo should just “Ask Y/n and find out on your own.”
And after months of pushing, the others begin echoing that sentiment.
The likelihood of him making the first move is still slim, he figures, but he does hold onto hope that he’ll get a chance one day. Daydreams and “what if” scenarios are a common occurrence for him.
He procrastinates waits for the perfect opportunity, but it never seems to come. Mista mocks him for it, laughing that “There’s no such thing as a perfect opportunity.” Fugo only grows more defensive in response.
I’m already so nervous about expressing myself to Y/n, Fugo fusses, I don’t know what I’d do if I mess this up. If I can’t sweep them off their feet, how can I even-
“Pannacotta?” you ask, pulling him away from his thoughts.
He blinks a couple of times, focusing his attention back on you.
When Giorno is absent, Fugo’s the best source of first aid on the team. All you had to do was walk up to him, apologetic and sheepish. Without a word, he eagerly jumped at the opportunity to help patch you up after a particularly rough mission. It’s the closest he ever physically gets to you.
He calmly led you into a bathroom, gesturing for you to sit atop the sink. His fingers were light and gentle as he worked with what he has on hand. You gave him reassurance that Giorno will likely return soon, so he has no need to stress.
A smile played on his lips, thankful that you know him well enough to guess his own worry.
But slowing movements and focused eyes told you his mind began wandering elsewhere. The cutely taken aback expression on his face after you spoke up is also more than enough evidence to confirm your suspicion.
“You with me?” you ask, playfully trying to get him to respond.
You’re not used to him being this quiet after you’ve gotten hurt. He either talks you through the pain or feels the need to give a lecture. Even when Giorno’s healing you, he’s right by your side whenever he can. Just the thought of his usual behavior can bring warmth to your heart.
“My apologies, you’re just distracting,” he says, hands immediately snapping from your person. Oh god, oh god, it’s not like him to speak without thinking. He stutters trying to cover up his words and only digs a bigger hole for himself in the process. “I-I mean you’re distracted- I’m distracted.”
You laugh, but it dies out fast as you clutch your side at the sting of pain rippling though your body. Fugo’s hands instinctively fly to your side as well, his fingertips brushing up against your own.
Slowly, he lifts his head only to meet your gaze closer to him than it was mere moments ago. You seem just as surprised as he is, and there’s a brief pause while both of you wait for the other to pull away.
Neither of you do.
He’s so close he can feel your breath fanning his face. Normally his face would burn red and he’d retreat to his bedroom as soon as he could, where he’d proceed to reply the moment in his head for the rest of the night. But your eyes… your breathtaking gaze is locked on his own so intently he can’t bring himself to pull away.
And they give him courage he never knew he has.
With a nervous gulp, he leans forward and plants a single kiss to your lips. His own lips are unimaginably soft and hesitant, yet linger against your own longingly. Even when he pulls away far too soon, his nose nuzzles against yours as he plays with the idea of brushing his lips against yours again.
Just to have felt you… to have the briefest taste of what it’s like being closer to you than anyone else he’s ever known before…
“I-“ he pulls himself away, joy dissolving into self-consciousness. You open your mouth to speak, but in his haste, he cuts you off by accident, “I’m sorry… I-I shouldn’t have done that.”
“You… didn’t want to?”
Your reply is spoken in a whisper, voice so faint not even someone standing in the doorway could pick up on it. Fugo’s heart thuds against his ribcage at the crestfallen look on your face. Are you… really disappointed? He’s understanding this correctly… right?
There’s no time to think, and once again he lets his mouth move faster than his mind. “Well, I… you deserve better, you know?” he reasons, “I should’ve explained myself first and then asked… not just go for it… you know. This- I-… I’m not doing this right, aren’t I?”
You adjust yourself on the sink top, glancing away from him for only a second. “If you were to have explained yourself… what would you have said?” you gently plead.
“I-…” he shakes his head.
“Please, Pannacotta, I want to know…”
“I-…” he starts again, taking in a deep breath, “I think I would’ve said… that I think you’re very remarkable. That I’ve never met someone like you before… someone who makes me feel this way… someone who makes me-… umm…”
A hopeful smile tugs at the corners of your lips as you finish for him, “Makes you… want to kiss me?”
He nods, clearing his throat for a couple moments too long. “Not just that, though… you know? It makes me want to take care of you and look after you if I may. I-I-“ he hesitates, “I’m sorry… I’ve thought about this for so long. What I’d say to you if… if I got the impression that you wanted to hear it.”
“I do want to hear it,” you tell him, still grinning from ear to ear, “Pannacotta… I’ve been wanting to say something too for a while now. But you’ve taken the words right out of my mouth.”
He would think he’s dreaming if it weren’t for your hand reaching out and holding his with a gentle squeeze.
“I like you a lot…” you softly confess, “And I need you to know that. It’s always really cute to see you so shy… but for a moment I got to see you push yourself a little. And I think that was beautiful.”
His head falls, staring down at your interlocked hands. Your words stir something within him, taking a tiny step forward in trying to grasp that burst of confidence he felt when he kissed you. “You’re beautiful…” he mumbles, squeezing your hand.
Just a quick glance your way, a brief view of the bright smile on your face, is the best reassurance he could’ve hoped for. He took the plunge, and not only is chaos not ascending to the world’s surface, but his eyes finally open to the affection you feel for him in return.
He ultimately had a love-hate relationship with the way he feels about you before anything concrete happened between the two of you, but that didn’t stop him for falling for you more and more.
And with hindsight, he’s a little timid over not having told you how he feels sooner. But it doesn’t consume him as it may once have before.
With you now at his side, you his and him yours, his heart can only flutter with joy at the prospect of finding his first love.
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rougepancake · 10 months
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Take care.
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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-
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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.”
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Adoring Stands
Here’s another JoJo’s Bizarre Adventure fanfic! I love Mista with my whole heart, and I came up with this idea the other day and had to write it down. As always gif and characters are not mine, and if anyone would like to make a request, please feel free to ask!
Description: Guido Mista’s stand, Six Bullets, absolutely adore the reader, and they love to show the bullets affection in return. When Mista tries to rest after an exhausting mission, he is greeted by an adorable sight.
Warnings: cursing, mentions of fighting and violence from the mission, otherwise none (if I miss something though, don’t be afraid to point it out!)
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After a successful mission, the Bucciarati gang loved to go back to the Libeccio for a five course dinner. Bruno spared no expense when it came to boosting the moral of his comrades, and each person took their seat in their usual spots. Abbachio sat to Mista’s left, his headphones playing classical music as he drank from his wine glass. To Mista’s right was Y/N L/N, the newest member of the team, followed by Fugo and Narancia. Bruno and Giorno sat across from Y/N and Mista.
“Excellent work today, Y/N. I must say your fighting skills continue to impress me.” Bruno commented as he took a bite from his garlic bread.
Y/N gave a slight smile as they bowed their head in respect. “Thank you, Bucciarati, but the mission would have failed without the help from the rest of the team.”
“Come on, don’t be so modest! You totally kicked that stand user’s ass.” Mista playfully nudged Y/N in the ribs, and they returned the favor by punching him in the shoulder. Narancia snickered at Mista and Y/N’s antics, and the rest shared knowing looks. The chemistry between the two of them had always been present, and the others loved to tease Mista about when he would make an actual move.
“What are you laughing at, uomo idiota?” Mista asked as he glared at Narancia. 
The younger boy laughed even harder as he twirled spaghetti around on his fork. “It’s nothing, Mista. You’ll figure it out eventually.”
The group continued to eat in silence, or it was silent until Mista’s stand, Six Bullets, complained about their own hunger. They all tried to climb up onto Mista’s plate to steal some of his food, except for Number Five, who had been punched by Number Three and knocked back onto the table. Number Five rubbed his swollen gold cheek as he started to cry, but Y/N quickly scooped them up into their hand.
“Easy now, Number Five, there’s no need for tears. Number three may pick on you, but you are just as valuable as the other bullets. Here, I saved you a little something.” Y/N offered part of their tiramisu cake to Number Five, and the bullet squealed happily as it pulled the dessert off the fork. Number Five quickly shoved the coffee-flavored cake into their mouth before the others caught them in the act.
Number Five hurried back to the group, and they whispered to Number One the kind deed that Y/N had done, hoping to earn some brownie points with the leader of the group. Of course, this wasn’t the first time that Y/N had slipped the Six Bullets desserts or extra snacks on the side apart from what Mista gave them, but it still excited each of them every time.
One by one, the other bullets sneaked off to steal some tiramisu from Y/N, trying their best not to catch Mista’s attention, but he wasn’t a fool. “Y/N! I told you not to sneak extra snacks to these guys! The last thing they need is coffee, especially since I will be the one dealing with the aftermath.” Mista shook his head, but Y/N simply giggled as they looked towards the Six Bullets.
“Do you all promise me you won’t trouble Mista? I would appreciate it if you take it easy on him, and if you behave, I might be able to spare a macaron or two.”
“We promise, Y/N!” The bullets replied in unison, causing Mista to shake his head at them, but Y/N noticed the start of a smile on the Italian’s face. After lunch came to a close, the Bucciarati gang headed back to their secluded hide out to rest. Bruno told them that it would be better if everyone lay low for a while in case other enemy stand users were still searching for them. Fugo and Narancia sat down on the couch in the common room of their hideout since Fugo promised that he would help Narancia with arithmetic problems. Bruno sat at the table by the window drinking a cup of tea and recording the details of the mission. Abbacchio sat across from Bruno listening to Monteverdi, taking a moment to reach across the table and take hold of Bruno’s hand. The capo smiled at the gesture and rubbed his thumb against the back of Abbacchio’s hand. Giorno worked on trimming a bonsai tree that had been a basket a few moments earlier before he transformed it with Golden Wind. The atmosphere radiated with tranquility, that is until Mista started pacing the floor.
The flirty interaction between him and Y/N was not the first, and yet the more time that passed the more that Mista felt something growing deep in his chest. It felt warm and comforting, but at the same time it made his stomach twist into nervous knots. The others told him numerous times that the feelings he experienced each moment he stood beside Y/N was love, but Mista still had some uncertainty. What if Y/N flirted with him for fun? It wouldn’t be the first time someone played with his feelings and left when boredom took over. “I’m going to go lay down for a while. Maybe some rest will help clear my head.” Mista walked down the hall and opened the door to the room he typically slept in.
Mista expected to see an empty bed, but the sight in front of him made his heart leap with joy and astonishment. Y/N laid on their back, their favorite blanket tangled over their legs as their eyes remained closed. The Six Bullets were curled up on Y/N’s chest, also in deep states of sleep. Number Five snored lightly as they nuzzled into the soft fabric of Y/N’s shirt. Mista grinned from ear to ear at the sight in front of him, and he thought to himself that this moment was sweeter than the chocolate cake he had for dessert that afternoon.
Trying his best not to wake Y/N or any of the Six Bullets, Mista crept over to the dresser and sat his hat on the oak furniture, running a hand through his curly locks. He crossed over to the side of the bed that looked the most spacious and settled into the spot. Mista leaned over and lightly touched Y/N’s shoulder. “Hey, you’re hogging my bed, bellissima.”
Y/N let out a groggy mumble as they opened their eyes. Their chest felt heavier than usual, and as soon as they looked down to see what was causing the weight difference, they noticed that the Six Bullets were still snoozing away. “I’m so sorry, Mista,” Y/N apologized. “I thought you were busy, and these guys were ready for their nap, so I offered them a comfortable place to rest. It appears I dozed off myself.”
Mista brushed the back of his knuckles against Y/N’s cheek, causing them to blush. “No need to apologize, especially after the ass kicking you did during our mission today. You deserve the rest, and clearly my Six Bullets are in the same boat.” It was Mista’s turn to blush as he glanced away to look out the window. “They really seem to like you Y/N, adore you is more accurate, and they aren’t the only ones who adore you with all their heart.”
Y/N gasped at Mista’s confession, but they could feel their heart swell with joy from his sentimental words. Y/N had developed feelings for Mista months ago, but after so many failed relationships, they thought that it would be impossible for someone like Mista to reciprocate the feelings. They reached for his hand, and Mista turned back to face Y/N. “I think you should lay down and rest a while too, Mista. I would say that you look even more attractive when you are exhausted, but I wouldn’t dare lie to the person I’ve had a crush on for months.”
A chuckle rumbled from Mista’s chest as he reclined on the bed and wrapped an arm around Y/N’s waist, pulling them closer into his warm embrace. The Six Bullets seemed to enjoy the extra warmth from Mista’s sweater as well, and for once in a long time, Mista felt at peace. “I’m glad to hear that you would not lie to me, tesoro, because now that you have confessed your feelings too, I will be by your side for as long as I live.”
Tag list: @pansexualtimcurryvampireelf
Y/N hummed as their eyes drooped shut, sleep taking over once again. Mista fell into his own peaceful dreams, but none of them could compare to his current reality where his dream had already come true.
550 notes · View notes
abellaheart-blog · 1 year
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What Lip Stick They Buy You 💄💋
Bucci Gang x Reader Headcanons
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Narancia Ghirga
He picks out cutesy ones for you because he thinks the gloss will look nice.
He saw it online, The Crème Shop x Hello Kitty Kawaii Kiss Moisturizing Lip Oil - Vanilla Mint Flavored. He didn't care about the flavor. He cared more about the appearance and color
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He would choose various cutsey lip glosses and the kind that are flavored hence why he got you dippin dots lip balms or Jolly Ranchers but expect different flavors he thought would taste best
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His favorite would be fruit flavored glosses on you. Various would be given to you but he'd get a better brand
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"Oh tesoro/tesorina! You're wearing the lip gloss I bought you!"
"Please can I have a kiss? You look so sexy/beautiful and kissable!"
"Only one kiss? You're wearing the tangerine lipgloss!"
"No fair! I wanted to try it from your lips."
Fugo Pannacotta
He loves the pink strawberry lip products on you! They make you look ever so kissable and he can't resist your lips
He buys you “Strawberry Kisses lip scrub” from Fourth Ray Beauty
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Glosses are a must too he wants to pick the cutest ones for you
Yes all of them would be strawberry flavored or themed
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He'd pick out pink strawberry themed lip sticks as well
He's so happy seeing you put them to use. He'll smile so much
Politely asking for kisses like the shy gentlemen he is
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He would also get you a balm too if requested or if he see's a good one
He'll bite his lip hoping he could kiss you. The sweetie wants all your kisses when he see's you put it to use. He can't help it
He's shy about PDA so he'll ask you privately
"Mio prezioso/preziosa, I need to kiss you.."
"You're so cute. I smell strawberry. You used the lipstick I got you. It looks great on you, as expected."
"Bella/Bello please kiss me.."
"You're simply irresistibile."
Guido Mista
He's getting you lip products he think would make you more kissable. He can't wait to use a pick up line on you to earn a kiss
Mista buys you watermelon sugar lip gloss. It’s called, “this is juice gloss” by NYX
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Much like Narancia he's getting you flavored lip products but I feel like he'd get the soda flavors. He'd totally get them to make some sort of cheesy pick up line. The fruity and coke flavors would be his go to but if you prefer other soda flavors he’d pick them out too.
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Mista loves lipstick on his partner too. He thinks it looks so pretty attractive. He might buy you some in red since he thinks its sexy. He'd make sure its a good brand
If you don't like red lip he's fine with other colors but of course he'll like them natural too. He's still wanting your kisses constantly
Too bad he doesn't realize lipstick don't taste good but it's a sacrifice he's willing to make
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He would like different colored lipglosses too. I can see him picking purples and pinks
He's going to be begging for kisses when you wear lip glosses since they draw so much attention
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"Looking good handsome/gorgeous. Where's my kiss?"
"Is that red lipstick I see? Gimme kisses!"
"You look so sexy. I'm going to need some kisses. I hope I earned them."
Giorno Giovanna
Giorno likes pink lipsticks and he'd love seeing various shades on you too!
He buys you lipstick from Sephora for you. He likes their products because they carry good quality expensive brands.
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The Rose lip scrub is his favorite on you
Hot pinks are also a favorite choice of his
He’d be sure to pick out a shade that would compliment your complexion
Dior would be another brand he would love to buy for you
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Lip glosses would be the other type of lip wear he’d pick out for you. Pinks and purples. The glosses would look so cute on you
"Bello/Bella I'm happy to see you wear the lip gloss I've given you."
"Scusi but you're looking so divine today. I must kiss you, cara/caro."
"You're wearing the pink lipstick I bought you, aren't you stella (star)?"
"Carino/Carino are you only giving me one kiss?"
Bruno Bucciarati
He likes the red lipsticks for you! Any shade is fine with him.
He’d pick out a good brand like Dior or maybe Sephora
Other shades I can see him choosing would be browns or orange colors
Bright colors would compliment your eyes but he thinks brown shades look sexy too
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He’d be delighted to see you wear the colors he bought you. Anything to make you happy
He isn’t opposed to other types of lip wear I feel like Bruno doesn’t know them too well
“I see you’re wearing the red lipstick I got you. You look very breathtaking~”
“I never get tired of your lip prints. They make my day, amore mio.”
“So beautiful.. I know I’ve already kissed your hand. Would you be opposed to a kiss?”
Leone Abbacchio
He’s the perfect one to pick out lipsticks for you. He knows makeup very well and enjoys picking them out for you too. Maybe he could do your makeup too if you like?
Of course he’d want to twin with you by getting you purple lipsticks. He’d get various shades so you can experiment with a color you’d enjoy most
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He’d also like blacks and dark greens on you. Red is also a pleasing sight to see as well. Getting brands off of shelves while he’s shopping for himself but it’s most likely he’s shopping for you
He’d love to pick out lipsticks with coffin packaging
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He’d get some Nightmare Before Christmas lipsticks as well. He enjoys their shades of lipsticks and would also enjoy the look of the design
He isn’t opposed to other colors. These would be his favorites he’d like to see on you.
He always has a smug look on his face at night when he sees your lip prints on him before washing it off his face or other body parts
If he had to pick his favorite it would be black. He secretly thinks it’s sexy
“The black lipstick really suits you.. better seat you on my lap before you run off.”
“Where’s my kiss, my dark empress/emperor?”
“Need to kiss you, my sexy vampire.”
"Getting lip prints on me whore?"
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swirlpops · 2 years
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jjba & you: fall dates edition.
Another season, another round of D A T E S with some of our faves. HAPPY FALL AND SHIT, Y’ALL. 
> all characters 21+.
> characters: bruno, abbacchio, gyro, jotaro, josuke, doppio/diavolo, diego, giorno, kakyoin, poly caesar & joseph.
> gender-neutral reader.
> sfw fluff, tender and warming for the soul.
(> if you're interested, a summer dates edition with our darling bruno, is here!)
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bruno bucciarati ; farmer’s market
Bruno had always loved the hustle and bustle of the farmer's market. Amidst a cacophony of hellos, he would blaze a trail of taste testing and sightseeing, taking in all the market had to offer. Today, you were by his side as he showed you his favorite stalls. "That one over there," he says, pointing one hand and gently resting the other on your shoulder, "has divine maple butter pastries. The farmer makes them fresh every morning." He ushers you to another stall, dotted with bouquets and fairy lights even in the gentle light of morning. "And this one has flowers that are homegrown here in Napoli, picked at the break of dawn." 
The sight of such a diverse array of flowers catches you off guard – mums painted with deep burgundy, sunflowers soaked in the last vestiges of early autumn sun. Bruno hums over the selection and plucks a violet dahlia; its center is smattered with brilliant gold. He tucks it behind your ear and smiles warmth down at you – undoubtedly, the most beautiful flower of them all. 
++ 
leone abbacchio ; fall shopping
At the craft fair, the fragrance of candles poured with apples, leaves, and candy corn float through endless rows of fall decor. Leone wrinkles his nose as you enter a particularly robust row, and casually takes your hand in his. It’s calloused and rough; the arbiter of a small token of affection doled out in carefully placed intervals. It’s ok – you don’t mind. “Why do people make these damn candles so strong?” he grumbles to himself. However, a small, white pumpkin tufted from scratchy felt steals his attention. He picks it up with his other hand, inspecting it as he holds it up to the crisp light of the low autumn sun. “This is cute,” he says under his breath, almost loathe in his admittance. “Let’s put it on our mantle. It'll look nice above the fire.”
++
gyro zeppeli ; bonfires & s’mores
"No no no," Gyro titters at you. "You have to smush it like this." He presses his palms together, melding gooey layers of graham cracker, scorched marshmallow, and rich milk chocolate. "The flavors have to bloom!" he continues, stressing each word as he gesticulates. "They have to bloom and grow, so you can stick it in your mouth for it explode with a big boom from the taste of it and–"
You stare at Gyro, mouth agape, as he waxes poetic about the wonders of s'mores technique. The bonfire he so skillfully built was licking its flames to the night sky, acting like it was protesting his lecture. Shadows play across his face, but you notice something amidst the embers' glow. 
"Gyro," you interrupt.
"What?"
"You have chocolate on your nose."
"I do?" He swoops in to bring his face close to yours, and playfully rubs the tip of his nose against your own. "Well, so do you." 
++
jotaro kujo ; apple cider
Quiet mornings are always spent together, perusing the daily newspaper on the porch. Morning fog sets the scene, rolling over fireburnt foliage and quaint cottages to douse the horizon with a cozy, picturesque atmosphere. Jotaro looks across at you, deep in the headlines of today's paper. He takes note of your concentration – brows furrowed, eyes scanning, and lips parted and soft from the touch of apple cider kissed along them. His own mug is warm and steaming, with tendrils of heat unfurling to befriend the rolling fog. Eyes still on you, he lifts his mug to his mouth. He takes a moment to relish the taste – but its sweetness holds no candle to the sacred ritual of sharing his mornings with you. 
++
josuke higashikata ; pumpkin patch
With all the countenance of an overexcited puppy, Josuke tugs on the hem of your marigold sweater to pull you in the direction of the hayrides. He drags you over rows of pumpkins dusted with nighttime dew; vines snag your ankles as the crunch of leaves lead you to a farmtruck stuffed with bales of hay. Easy as could be, he grabs your waist and lifts you clean off your feet, settling you onto the back of the truck. The low full moon shines its favor on the both of you when you share a tender gaze. 
“Are you ready?” he asks, gently resting his hands on your knees while his cheeks bloom with blush. “As I’ll ever be,” you respond with a smile, reaching your hand out to him. He smiles back, wide and beautiful, as he takes your hand to climb aboard and join you. 
++
vinegar doppio/diavolo ; haunted house
Trembling like a fieldmouse at harvest, Doppio latches onto your arm. "I bet another monster is going to hop out any minute," he laments. "I can't take this!" He buries his face into your shoulder and rubs it, wiping away the tears threatening to spill. "We shouldn't have came…"
You reach up to stroke the wild pink fluorescence of Doppio’s hair while you both round a corner into a small and empty room. "They're just actors!" you say, laughing in jest. "Don't worry, I'll protect you."
All Doppio could do was quiver in the dim light of the haunted house; he whimpers and grips you tighter. "I mean… I could protect you too, you know."
"Is that so?"
You swore you could see a familiar glint in his eye. Doppio nods, and his body starts to grow larger as he does so. You lean back when you feel a heavy presence – though at this point, you supposed you were used to it. 
A muscular arm pushes you against the wall to trap you between a rock and a hard place. Who you knew as Diavolo was now pressed against you, with his arm bracing the wall to cage you in. "Oh?" says a deep voice. "What’s this?” His tone is smooth and dangerous, and the touch of his trailing hand evaporates down your cheek. "Lost in a sea of wolves, little lamb?"
++
diego brando ; trick or treat
“This is stupid.”
Diego huffs as he enters the room, clad in a comically oversized dinosaur suit from head to toe. "Remind me again, why am I doing this?"
In your Jurassic Park ranger costume, you giggle at the sight of Diego, who so courteously succumbed to your request. "Look at you, oh my god!" you say excitedly. "You'll be a hit at all the houses! We're gonna get so much candy, just you watch."
Diego waddles over to you, and you can practically see the scowl on his face through his getup. "I can barely breathe," he complains. "What a stupid tradition."
"It'll be fun, I promise. And you can always take off your little dino head, you know.”
No more permission is needed – he pulls it off with zero hesitation. “Done,” he says, making his way to the overflowing candy bowl in your foyer. "An hour is my absolute limit, mind you."
You follow alongside him, pouting and affectionately pinching his cheek. "Aw, Diego – a little bit longer? Please? For me?"
He picks up a miniature candy bar and tosses it in the air. With a deft hand he grabs it, then squeezes it out its wrapper, sending it flying to catch in his mouth. “Well, if it's for you I suppose I could," he says through a mouthful of sickly sweet chocolate. "Right. Let’s get on with it, then.”
++ 
giorno giovanna ; carving pumpkins
Tongue peeking out in concentration, Giorno carves into the delicate stencil pasted on his pumpkin. Ambitious as always, the pattern is intricate – inlaid with roses aplenty and labor intensive vines. The only sounds in the room are hushed breaths and the drag of carving knives ripping into the pumpkins' soft flesh. 
"How's it coming?" you ask, peering over your own pumpkin. 
"Almost there," Giorno replies, with his eyes trained on his handiwork. "How about you?
“Uh…” You take a moment to tilt your head and appraise your progress. It’s a bit jagged and roughshod, but it still retains the likeness of a classic jack o'lantern. 
Giorno scoots over in his chair and leans into your shoulder to take a peek for himself. “Looking spooky,” he says with a half grin. “I love it.”
“Thanks!” you say, as you go back to hacking into its eye. “But honestly, this part is a little tough to cut through. Do you mind giving me a hand?”
He places his hand on top of yours, grasping your keyhole saw alongside you, and presses a gentle kiss into your temple. “Allow me,” he says, melting all of your woes in one fell swoop. 
++
noriaki kakyoin ; apple picking
A dappling of light scatters through a grove of apple trees. The air is fresh and crisp; your baskets overflow with apples speckled in sap. The best part of it all, is getting a lift on Noriaki’s shoulders – a far better option than scrambling up wooden ladders laden with splints. 
From your perch, he runs his hands down your calves, looking up in adoration to observe as you pluck a particularly juicy looking apple. After a small wiggle to position yourself, you tug the fruit from its spot on the branch. It falls into your hand with a satisfying plop. 
“That one’s pretty big,” he notes. “Maybe we should eat that one first.” 
“A good plan, I think,” you say. You give it a quick wipe on your sleeve, then bend over so you can present it in front of his mouth. He smiles with serenity, appreciative of your offer. His eyes lock on yours as he tilts his head forward, sinking his teeth into the ripe flesh. A trickle of juice runs down the side of his mouth, and he can’t help but laugh through the burst of apple. Everything always tastes better when it's with you.
++
caesar zeppeli & joseph joestar ; soapmaking
The hustle and bustle of people milling around your soapmaking class was the perfect diversion for Joseph’s latest caper – which was to annoy you and Caesar. Simply put, it was business as usual.
Caesar slipped on a pair of gloves, but the looming figure behind him snatched his attention from pouring his lye. “I can see you, Jojo,” he said, looking over his shoulder in annoyance. “We can both see you.”
Your head was also turned – you were well versed enough to recognize Joseph’s ways. His face stretched in a wide, suspicious smile, and his hands remained hidden behind his back. "No need to get your eyes checked, then!” he exclaimed in a singsong voice, cheesy as ever. “Look at my two favorite lovely people, being so cute, making the best soap–” 
Caesar rolled his eyes and turned back to his work. Leaning over to you, he spoke, “If we ignore him, he just might go away.” 
“Caesar,” Joseph whined, “I’m right here! I can hear you!”
“Good,” said Caesar. 
Joseph whipped his arms from behind his back, brandishing a heart-shaped bar of soap in each hand. "Fine," he pouted. "I was going to give you two these, but since you're being so mean…" 
Your heart melted on sight. Though they looked… suspicious, to say the least, they were still a token of Joseph's affection. "That's so cute, Jojo!" you exclaimed happily. 
"Yeah, yeah, yeah," grumbled Caesar – but he couldn't even begin to hide the blush spreading across his cheeks.
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milkyway-gaily · 5 months
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[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!)
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bucci-cookies · 1 year
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A Trip To Naples - Bruno Bucciarati x Reader
Here is a commission piece I did where the reader goes on a trip to Italy and falls in love with a lovely stranger :)
Naples: the birthplace of pizza, home of the famous Amalfi Coast and, of course, the destination of your impulsive getaway. With the stress of work pushing down on your shoulders, you needed some sort of break; those winning tickets couldn’t have come at a better time. Three weeks living in the bustling Campanian city in an all-expenses paid hotel was a perfect way to spend your annual vacation time.
One of the highlights of Naples was its colourful markets: picturesque stalls and shops lining the cobblestoned streets selling various trinkets, clothing and flowers. You found yourself in the Market of Antignano, deep in the centre of Vomero. The jovial sellers beckoned you over to look at the various slippers, cosmetics and linen sitting on the displays, eager to squeeze some money out of you before lunch. An elderly woman with thick black hair selling keyrings waved at you, shaking one of them in her hand. It was a cute little thing, a brown plastic bear holding a red heart between its paws, all connected to the metal ring. You figured that you might as well replace your old worn-out one with a new souvenir.
“Questo è perfetto per voi zucca!” She smiled, placing the ring in your hand. To your knowledge, she said it was perfect for you.
“Il mio Italiano…non è buono” You laughed awkwardly. The only fault in this seemingly perfect holiday was that you only had very little knowledge of the language. You could say enough to scrape by, but in this case, you found it easier to say you don’t know the language well.
“Ah! You speak English, zucca?” The woman asked, not phased by your inability to speak her Italian.
You sighed loudly, thankful that you could converse in a language you understood. “Yes, I do. Sorry, this is my first time in Italy.”
“Oh? How lovely!” She beamed, giving you a toothy grin. She looked down at her watch, 1 pm, almost time to close up for today. "Have you got somewhere to go for lunch?"
"Nowhere, in particular. I'll just walk around and see what looks nice." You had researched local places to eat earlier. Most of them were within the same vicinity so you planned to go to whatever seemed less busy to avoid long queues.
"Zucca, you must go to Libeccio!" She shook your hand, almost like her life depended on you going there. "It's marvellous, oh you'll love it!" She squealed. "Plus," She said with a  smirk, "it's owned by such a sweet young man, Bucciarati. He's so graceful and kind, you’ll love him!”
You remember searching up Libeccio - it was a beautiful restaurant, though you were worried it was a little out of your price range. It screamed expensive from the pictures you saw online. Well, you were on holiday, you might as well allow a little bit of luxury. You paid for the keyring, placing it in the side pocket of your bag before waving the kind woman off as she packed up her stall for the day.
Libeccio was about a ten-minute walk away, allowing you to explore parts of the region a bit more. You took note of some stylish boutiques along the way, thinking about how your wardrobe could do with a revamp. As well as some grocery stores for if you ever needed a snack.
Libeccio, unsurprisingly, was an Italianate-style building. Bay windows with pink and shamrock-like decorative window trims along both stories of the tawny-coloured building. The inside had half-cream half-dark oak walls, and a soft crimson carpet covering the entire dining area. It was a little intimidating to see so many well-dressed people sitting together. Eating meals you probably couldn’t pronounce and drinking wines you had never heard of. You felt like you stuck out like a sore thumb. You swallowed the lump in your throat and made your way to the waiting table where one of the floor workers stood, writing some notes in a large black book. He greeted you with a wide smile as his hazel eyes and tanned skin shone under the bright lights that reflected off his silver name badge that read ‘Alejandro’. He held up a finger, presumably asking you if you were the only diner, to which you nodded. Before you could get a word in, he placed you on a two-seater table near one of the windows with a menu and a glass of water to get you started.
You opened the sleek black booklet, revealing extensive lists of appetisers, starters, mains and desserts, all in clean, fancy, Italian writing. The best thing you could do was whip out Google and try to search for all these meals. You tried to note what sounded best, whittling down the list as best as you could, but you barely scratched the surface of the menu when the waiter returned, asking if you would like to order. With an embarrassed blush, you tried to explain how you were struggling to read the menu. But it seemed like he couldn’t understand you, especially over the noisy restaurant.
You didn’t notice that this interaction had caught the attention of a group of men who sat a couple of tables down from yours. “Scusi.” A sultry voice said. You looked up to see a tall man with darker skin standing next to the waiter. The mas w `A`1as dressed in a cropped sweater and sleek black jeans, offering a perfect view of his toned abdomen. His hair was thick and curly, framing his roundish face and drawing attention to his dark eyes. The man whispered something to the waiter, making him run off, before pulling a chair next to you.
“Buongiorno signora. Are you having trouble with your menu? I see you switching between it and your phone.” Before you could begin to question who this man was and how he knew you would speak English, he took the menu from your hands and began flicking through the pages before tapping one of the options. “This is gravlax bella, it's just cured salmon, comes in thin slices.” He turned over the page. “Ah and capricciosa! You’ve got mushroom, artichokes, baked ham, olives, my absolute favourite!” He said with gusto as he scooched a little closer to you. Truth be told, you didn’t feel too comfortable in this situation, a strange man in a strange country acting so familiar with you made you uneasy. And the way he so easily managed to get rid of the waiter rubbed you the wrong way, who knows what his intentions were? You simply tucked your lips in and nodded at his rambling about the menu, thankful that you at least had some options to order.
You avoided eye contact with the strange man until suddenly his voice stopped. You looked over to see another man standing behind him, one with lighter skin and short black hair. “Mista,” He sighed, his voice a smooth baritone, “la stai mettendo a disagio.” He whispered with a smile, squeezing the man’s shoulder. Instantly he looked back at you, bowing his head.
“I’m so sorry signora, I’ll get out of your way!” He dropped the menu back on the table and walked back to his original seat. He was met with the disapproving headshakes of the third man on the table. The new man moved the chair back to its original place opposite you before holding out a hand.
“Bruno Bucciarati, I’m the owner.” He shot you a dazzling smile. Thankful that he was at least affiliated with the restaurant and not another stranger, you calmly shook his hand. You had to admit, the woman from the market was right, he was handsome. His frame was tall and lean and he had a certain youthful essence in his speech and gestures. His hair was cut to his shoulders, neatly styled to form bangs that reached his thin black eyebrows. His eyes were the most noticeable feature on his face, soft blue ones surrounded by long lashes. If you had to guess, he was probably in his mid 20s. Part of you wondered how a young man like him could own such a lavish restaurant. “You’ll have to forgive my friend, he was only trying to help and he got a bit carried away.” Bruno turned around to face the man you now know to be Mista, presumably staring him down, before facing you again and rubbing the back of his neck with an awkward laugh.
“It’s fine, thank you for clarifying.” You smiled back. “I’m really glad we can speak in English, my Italian isn’t good at all.”
He cocked his head to the side, thin eyebrows furrowed. “You weren’t able to request a menu in English?”
Your jaw dropped slightly, realising this could have been resolved if you simply asked for a different menu. “I’m so sorry, I didn’t know I could!” You pressed your hands against your cheeks in shame.
Bruno laughed gently, his shoulder relaxing, grateful that this wasn’t a staff complaint in the works. “It’s okay, I’m glad you know for next time, I will go get you one.” He came back shortly with an identical menu, this time with everything in English. “We get a lot of tourists here, so we print a couple menus in different languages, mainly English and French.”
“Thank you so much sir, it helps a lot.” You waved him goodbye as you flicked through the new one, picking up all of the meals you had missed out on earlier. You decided to give Mista’s suggestion a go, after all, he was just trying to be nice. A different waiter met you this time, a woman with her hair tied back in a long, blonde ponytail and an exuberant expression across on her face, ready to take your order: the capricciosa pizza, and a slice of chocolate cake with gelato for dessert.
By now the restaurant had more customers, different groups of people huddled around the tables, filling the room with the smell of their meals and another layer of noise above the soft music in the background. Couples, families and friends chuckled and chatted together, enjoying the lively mood that the Naples summer put into them as they shared glasses of wine and scrumptious desserts. It didn’t take long for your waitress to return with a piping hot thin crust pizza on a large round plate with a rich cheesy and meaty aroma exuding from it as she placed it in front of your nose. She refilled your glass of water, adding a few blocks of ice to cool you down as the weather had begun to increase, before leaving you to enjoy your meal.
You took a bite from one of the slices, enjoying how the base crunched in your mouth and sighed, it was incredible. The meat was perfectly seasoned and paired wonderfully with the assortment of vegetables. This particular version had an additional drizzle of olive oil, but to your delight, it didn’t make the dish greasy at all. You had never had a pizza as wonderful as this, you saw why that nice old lady recommended Libeccio to you, as well as why Naples is known as the pizza hotspot. It’s like the meal had some sort of hold on you, its smell wrapped around your body, making you focus on the rich ham and savoury sauce. You ordered one of the smaller sizes, making sure you had enough space for dessert, which was just as delightful. The cool vanilla gelato was a perfect pair for the thick, warm chocolate cake. You always tried to limit your sugar intake, not wanting to sacrifice your health for a few treats, but it didn’t take long for your sweet tooth to activate and completely devour the rich cake.
“Did you enjoy your meal?” Mr Bucciarati returned once your plates had been cleared, sitting on the chair opposite you. “I hope everything was to your taste?” He placed his elbow on the table, resting his head on his hand.
While wiping your lips with a napkin, you nodded enthusiastically. “I did! I guess your friend was right about the capricciosa, it’s really amazing!” You definitely planned to return to Libeccio soon, especially since it wasn’t as expensive as you thought it would be.
His cerulean eyes lit up as a toothy grin formed. Libeccio had been his favourite restaurant since he was young. When he bought the establishment from the previous owner, he spared no expense to continue to do its name justice, not wanting to cut any corners regarding the quality of service or food as some would do. “Well I’m glad you liked it, it’s one of my favourites too.” He leaned in a little towards you, clearing his throat. “Can I ask, is this your first time in Italy?”
You paused a little before replying. “Yes. I never travel much, it’s far too expensive these days. I actually won these tickets in a lottery.”
He gave an understanding nod before switching to another beaming smile. “Ahh well that’s lucky, Naples is one of the best cities here. Call me biased since I grew up here, but I thoroughly prefer it to cities up north.” He folded his arms against his chest with a jokingly smug expression on his face. To Bruno, no amount of glitz and glam in Florence or Milan could match the warm pleasure that Naples made in his heart.
“Well, I’m glad I’m in the right place.” You smiled, turning to face him a little more.
“May I ask where you’re from?”
With slight hesitation, you revealed your home country to the kind stranger, watching his eyes light up at your words.
He leaned forward, resting both elbows on the table. “Oh? I hear how beautiful it is there, especially in the Spring. I have an old friend who moved to,” He snapped his fingers as he tried to recall the name. “It’s escaped me now, but you know the small town in the south, the one with all the mountains and forests? I had a friend who moved there when we were younger. We would send each other postcards when we were little.” Bruno didn’t have many friends his age, especially as he grew up in a quieter area with an older population. This meant he cherished the few he had greatly. When his friend Mikhail moved away due to his father getting a job abroad, they vowed to always send each other letters and postcards. Sadly, this was cut short when he was twelve. You were familiar with the town he was referring to having visited there several times. It was a gorgeous area, filled with a lively artistic and historical culture, as well as being one of the largest cities from your home.
“Were you given any sort of activity list? Things to do here?” Bruno asked, fiddling with his fingers.
You shook your head. “Nothing, in particular, I don’t really know where to start.” You simply planned to rely on whatever the Internet suggested.
“If you would like anyone to go with you or show you some nice places, I’d be more than happy to show you around.”
“Oh no that’s completely fine! I don’t want to intrude on your schedule.” You grit your teeth, not wanting to inconvenience the lovely owner.
He scoffed with a light-hearted tone, shaking his head. “No, it's fine! You won’t be interrupting anything, I promise.” He paused, briefly before pulling a pen out of his shirt pocket and writing something on a napkin. “Here, this is my number. If you would like to go anywhere or need an idea, I would be more than willing to help.” He neatly folded it and handed it to you. “You don’t have to agree, this is just a suggestion! I know that being in a new country can be hard and sometimes daunting.” He quickly explained, holding his hands up as if to prove that this was just an innocent suggestion. The last thing he wanted was to make you feel as overwhelmed by a stranger as you did when Mista approached you.
You took the napkin from him, placing it in your purse. “Thank you Mr Bucciarati.” There was something about him that made it easy to talk to him: maybe it was his calm body language or his soft facial expressions, but it felt nice talking to him. In your gut, he seemed like a good guy. Besides, it would be nice to have a native speaker around to guide you.
“You can just call me Bruno by the way.” Usually, he was fine with being referred to as Bucciarati, but something in him felt like being less formal with you. “What can I call you?”
“y/n.”
He smiled and tilted his head to the side, causing his hair to fall slightly as he slowly repeated your name. “That’s such a beautiful name.”
**************************************************
It had been two days since you visited Libeccio, and still, the kind man’s napkin sat in your bag, stuffed underneath your purse. Bruno did seem nice, and at least he was the well-known owner of Libeccio, so he wasn’t a completely random stranger. It would be nice to have a personal tour guide, especially someone native to the area, it would also make your trip a lot less lonely. You pulled out the napkin and used the hotel phone to call him. After two rings, he picked up.
“Salve, Bucciarati parla.” He said, his voice was deep and groggy like he had just woken up and you could hear the sizzling of a frying pan in the background.
“Mr Bucciarati - Bruno?” You cleared your throat. “It’s y/n, I hope I didn’t call at a bad time.” You heard ceramic plates clanging against each other as well as the opening and closing of wooden drawers.
Bruno yawned before replying, rubbing his neck, soothing it after an uncomfortable night’s rest. “From Libeccio right?” His voice sounded a little chippier as he placed some bread in the toaster. He couldn’t deny that he was hoping you would call, at least this was something pleasant to start off his otherwise boring day.
“Mhm…I’m sorry I responded so late I-” 
“It’s fine, it was a bold move on my part.” He cut you off with a light chuckle as he spread some butter on a crisp slice of toast. He was never usually so forward, especially with new people, the last thing he wanted was to make you feel pressured or preyed on. “Does this mean that you’ve decided to take up my offer?”
“Yes.” You nodded, perching on the end of your double bed.
He was thankful that you couldn’t see the wide grin that spread across his face. “How do you feel about pasta making?” The kettle whistled in the background, steam bursting out of the spout before settling. “There’s a place in the Spanish Quarter, they do pasta-making sessions for pretty much anyone, they’re supposedly quite fun.” Bruno poured himself his usual morning drink, a cup of coffee with a little milk and a dash of honey. He had visited his area several times before, though never to attend a class.
The opportunity to be taught how to make a true Italian pizza did sound intriguing, and a public session would be a safe option to go with a stranger. You concluded that this would be a decent idea. “That sounds great! How much does it cost?” You eyed your purse, knowing that you put yourself on a reasonably tight budget.
“Don’t worry about that, I’ll cover you.” He said nonchalantly, taking a sip of his warm coffee.
“No no, I can’t just let you pay for me!”
Bruno let out another soft chuckle as took his usual seat on the sofa. “Don’t worry, the owner owes me anyways. So how does this afternoon sound?” He asked before taking a bite out of the soft buttered bread.
You turned to face the clock on the nightstand. “I can do two o’clock if that’s okay.”
“Meet me at Libeccio then.”
Bruno sat on a long wooden bench just outside the restaurant, arms resting on the back with his head tilted backwards. He wore a blue button-up shirt, opting to leave the top few buttons, exposing the top of his toned chest. Today was a lot warmer than the rest of the week, hence the cool lemonade sitting next to him with already melted ice cubes.
“Sorry I’m late!” You waved shyly, placing a hand on the bench. “I took a wrong turn and ended up at a marketplace.” An awkward laugh left your lips as Bruno sat up to face you, holding a hand above his eyes to avoid the glare of the Sun.
“No problem, the next bus will be here in a few minutes.” He smiled, looking down at his watch. You took a seat next to him, crossing your legs as you waited for the next bus to arrive. Libeccio was even busier than the last time you were there, the chatter from inside the restaurant poured out into the busy streets. This particular street seemed to be the centre of food service in the area, with cafes, bakeries and restaurants lining the road. Across from you was a small coffee shop with outdoor seating, while a dessert parlour with a white and lilac interior sat beside it. Through the window, you could see a group of kids and adults sitting in a booth enjoying an array of ice-creams and milkshakes, the perfect treat for such a hot day.
“That place does incredible cheesecakes,” Bruno’s voice caught your attention. “Probably the best you can get in Naples.” He pointed to the dessert place you were staring at.
“Do you go there often?” You asked, turning to face the man as he sipped his drink.
“Sometimes, when I have the chance. You should try it one day!” He gave you an enthusiastic grin. Libeccio only had limited dessert options, mainly a couple variations of cake with a simple scoop of vanilla gelato, but that wasn’t enough to soothe his sweet tooth. His usual order was a chocolate milkshake with a slice of either cheesecake or a brownie. The positions of Libeccio and  Più Golosi (Sweet Tooth) complimented each other well, a savoury and sweet place just across the street from each other, a perfect, tempting pair for customers.
Before you could respond, the small yellow bus pulled up to the stop, stuffed to the brim with a flood of travellers. The double doors swung open, releasing a swarm of people as they rushed to jump off the stuffy vehicle. As Libeccio was in the city centre, the majority of the travellers were ending their journeys here, leaving the bus nice and spacious for the two of you. Bruno led you to a seat in the middle of the bus, slightly behind a group of teenagers chatting away about whatever trip they were on. The bus drove slowly along the street, giving you a chance to gaze at the array of bright and beautiful buildings lining the road. Naples really was a gorgeous city, decorated in bright buildings of various styles: gothic, classical, italiante, modern. Its proximity to the water not only guaranteed you a few nice days at the beautiful beach, but it also meant that you would get some of the best seafood around. As schools were closed for the holidays, you weren’t surprised to see so many kids and teens walking around. Some were in swimwear, most likely from the aforementioned beach, while others were in various summer wear, laughing with friends over smoothies as they moved from shop to shop.
It didn’t take long to reach the place, a large stone building with several cars parked in front. Near one of the entrances was a tall man with cropped black hair, treating himself to a smoke break. “Cardinale.” Bruno waved at the man, causing him to look up from his lighter. On closer inspection, the man, Cardinale, had a large tattoo on his forearm reading “Frederica.”
“Bucciarati.” Cardinale nodded with a smile, walking towards the two of you. “Oh, you brought a friend?” He faced you, looking you up and down before reaching out a hand towards you. “Cardinale, as you have heard.”
You took his hand, noting his strong grip on your hand. “Y/n, a pleasure to meet you.”
“Lovely to meet you too,” He let go of your hand, looking down at his watch. “If you’re here for a class, the next one is in about five minutes, Angelica is leading. Just put on an apron and wait in the hall with the rest of the group.” He pointed you in the direction of the large entrance next to him. “Don’t worry about a fee.” He took a puff of his cigarette as he waved the two of you off.
Contrary to its rustic exterior, the inside of the culinary school was extremely modern and polished. In the long hallway stood a group of about ten people, presumably the other people joining the class, chatting amongst themselves. Along the wall was a line of aprons, well, what would have been a line of aprons if they hadn’t been taken by the rest of the group, you and Bruno helped yourselves to the last two.
The wooden door at the end of the hall swung open, revealing a young woman with thick curly hair, beckoning everyone in. “Welcome welcome! Come inside!” She held the door open for everyone, greeting each member as they entered the pristine kitchen. She was quite tall, with dark skin and hazel eyes, all complimenting the friendly smile spread across her face, revealing a set of pearly white teeth. “Two people to a bench, please wash your hands before you touch anything.”
By default, you and Bruno stayed as a pair, choosing one of the benches near the large arched windows. The woman introduced herself as Angelica, explaining that she was a final-year culinary student and would be leading this session. She took you through all the steps, from making the dough, to forming the various shapes and preparing the sauce. Bruno seemed to be a master already, calmly forming little portions of perfect gnocchi, enough to get some praise from Angelica as she walked around the benches. At first, you were dreading this, worried that you would be the only one to mess up the shapes. The first few pieces of garganelli came out rather flat or irregularly folded, but after the fourth one, you started to get the hang of it. You decided to mix it up with some gemelli, they were much easier than the radiatori which Bruno made.
“You’re so good at this.” You laughed awkwardly, eyeing the array of styles Bruno had made.
He scoffed in return. “I’ve been doing this for a long time, trust me when I say that I was worse than you when I first started.” He tutted loudly, realising he had squashed the riccioli in his hands. “As you can see, I still make mistakes.”
“I don’t think I’ll even attempt the ruote or the spighe.” Angelica had a camera set up at her station, it projected a birds-eye view of her work onto the screen slightly to the left of her. On her board were roughly thirty different types of pasta she made on the spot, ready to be cooked. They were all perfectly shaped with no sign of imperfections.
“Well, maybe when you return from your holiday you can continue practising. Being able to make pasta from home can save a lot of money sometimes.” 
“Do you make all of yours from scratch then?” You asked, using the pasta machine to flatten out a new section of dough.
“I try to if I have the time.”
You shook your head. “Owning a restaurant must take a lot of your time, I can’t imagine how much work goes into it.” You began sectioning out the dough for a batch of casarecce.
“Well yes…sort of.” Owning a restaurant was time-consuming, Bruno wouldn’t deny it. But it wasn’t the only thing that limited his time and availability. His position with Passione didn’t concern you, after all, you were a tourist and a stranger. Before the conversation could continue any further, Angelica called everyone’s attention to the front where she took everyone through the sauce.
It was a simple cream sauce with bacon, parmesan and swiss cheese, a perfect match for the pasta. While the food simmered in the separate posts, the opportunity arose for the group members to mingle with each other, only for a few minutes. You ended up conversing with the couple behind you, a pair of 19-year-old university students on a date. The four of you talked about the summer, they shared their plans to travel around Naples before returning to Rome for their studies. While you and Bruno explained that you were also on holiday here and he was showing you around.
Once everything was cooked and plated to Angelica’s standards, everyone made their way to the dining area just down the hall from the kitchen. You both sat by a round wooden table situated by a window, helping yourselves to the freshly squeezed juice offered. You squeezed your eyes shut, bracing for the worst as you took a bite of your dish. To your surprise it was delightful! The thick creamy sauce paired wonderfully with the light pasta, and the bacon gave an extra savoury crunch to the dish.
“See, I knew you weren’t as bad as you thought.” Bruno asked, topping up his glass of juice.
“I surprised myself honestly.” You laughed, collecting another forkful of food. “How is yours?” You noticed that he had already eaten half of his plate.
“As you can see, I thoroughly enjoyed it, it was lovely if I do say so myself.” He smirked proudly, his expression making you giggle. “Though I think I’ll add more vegetables to it if I remake it.” He ate another forkful.
The two of you conversed a little more as you cleaned up your plates and washed them up. Bruno was a real gentleman, even with the smallest things like holding the door open for you, he was a good listener and showed genuine interest in your stories about back home. There was something about him that made you very comfortable, he genuinely seemed like a friend to you, despite how little time you had known him for.
“Thank you so much for inviting me,” You said as you walked towards the bus stop. “I’m very grateful that you did this.” You rubbed the back of your neck shyly.
Bruno gave you a smile as he dug his hands into his pocket, “It’s no problem.” The bus back to Libeccio arrived and you both got on board. It was just as empty as it was when you got on it earlier, allowing the two of you to speak openly. “Y/n? While I enjoy your company and would love to show you more interesting places, I just hope you don’t pressured to meet with me. I know that being in a new country can be daunting and I don’t want you to feel unsafe around me.” Bruno said, squeezing the fabric of his trousers.
“Well, I’m thankful that you appreciate boundaries. I’d like to think I can trust you, I would like to see more places, its better than travelling all alone. You replied, resting your back against the window so you faced him.
The corners of his lips upturned lightly. “I would like that too.” He cocked his head to the side. “Just give me a call whenever you feel like meeting again.”
**************************************************
Today marked two weeks of your trip, and of those fourteen days, ten of them had been spent with Mr Bruno Bucciarati. After the success of the pasta-making class, you met up the next day to try out that dessert place you were looking at, Più Golosi. He treated you to an ice cream sundae with a fluffy waffle, while he had a tall glass of hot chocolate with a slice of carrot cake. The day after that, he took you through the underground world of the Napoli Sotteranea, through the ancient labyrinth of aqueducts, passages and cisterns, weaving through the narrow passages by candlelight. Later you visited some of the other marketplaces, trying out some of the local street food like cuoppo and graffa. Graffa was a kind of fried fluffy, potato-based doughnut covered with sugar. Cuoppo came in land and sea variations, with the land version consisting of potato crocché stuffed with cheese and ham, pasta zeppole, zucchini flowers, ricotta and scagliuozz, arancini rice and more. With the sea version contains squid and shrimp rings, seaweed fritters and fried fravaglietti. You both shared a love for music and art and expressed these through trips to the Museo e Real Bosco di Capodimonte and the busy busking-rich streets where guitarists and pianists were often found entertaining crowds dotting the area.
You and Bruno had grown closer over time, sharing more intimate sides of you over cups of coffee and walks through the shopping centres. You ended up meeting some of his friends, Giorno, Fugo and Mista. The latter you had already met through the awkward encounter in Libeccio, but you were thankful that now you had a more pleasant encounter with him. Mista was quite the comedian, loud and unhinged, while Giorno and Fugo were more mellow and casual like Bruno. You hit it off with them immediately, you bounced off each other quite well. You learnt about his childhood, how his parents were separated and he bought Libeccio just a couple of years ago; while letting him in on details of your life back in your home country. Bruno never pried into your personal affairs, always tiptoeing around anything that could seem intrusive (he didn’t even know which hotel you were staying at), respecting the boundaries set as new companions while remaining amicable. That little connection you felt to him when you first met had increased over time, and something inside you wanted to see him more and more. Maybe it was just a silly little crush, after all, having a handsome Italian gentleman showing you around the city would make anyone blush. And besides, you were on holiday, maybe the new scenery had changed you in a way. Regardless, you were not going to act on anything, you’d had enough bad luck with past relationships, no need to cripple yourself with a fantasy-like ordeal with a strange man in another country, and it’s not like you knew if Bruno felt the same.
Today you were at the beach again, for the third time this trip, basking in the Sun and soaking up a nice tan.
“Fancy a drink?” You pulled off your sunglasses, looking up at Bruno as he stood beside you, holding out a chilled can of Coca-Cola. You thanked him for the beverage and cracked it open, enjoying the refreshing drink. “I have to leave soon, a friend is coming to pick me up in a few minutes.” He said with an apologetic tone as he packed up his belongings. “We can drop you off at Libeccio if you would like us to?” He folded his towel, placing it in his small travel bag.
You had grown a little tired of today’s beach trip anyways, with it being a Saturday, more families were free to visit the beach making it more crowded and louder than normal. “If you could that would be great.” You began packing up your own items, making sure to not leave anything behind like your water bottle or sunscreen. The two of you walked over to the parking lot after changing, where a black Honda sat with the driver resting his head on the open window.
“Who’s that.” The man looked up, pointing to you.
“She’s a friend, y/n, I need you to drop her off at Libeccio.” Bruno opened the back door for you to get in, before making his way to the front passenger seat.
“I’m not your personal driver Bucciarati.” The man scowled, starting the car and pulling out of the parking space. Bruno scoffed and leaned on the window.
“I’m pretty sure I’ve done a lot more favours for you Abbacchio,” He turned around you face you, “don’t mind him, he’s just bitter for no reason.” He gave you a reassuring smile before facing forward once more.
The journey was short, just a few minutes of driving with very little traffic. Bruno and Abbacchio talked for most of the journey, presumably about something important as they only spoke in Italian, despite them speaking in English earlier. The man Bruno was with looked about your age with pale skin, long greyish hair tied back and a few bruises on the back of his hands. You assumed this was just a friend, or maybe someone he worked with at Libeccio. They dropped you off outside of the restaurant and Bruno waved you goodbye as the car drove off.
“So are we not going to address her?” Abbacchio asked, a sly smile creeping onto his face. “I didn’t know you liked picking up foreign girls, I guess this is the person you show around.” 
Bruno rolled his eyes at the teasing, refusing to let it get to him.
“Oh? Trying to act like the bigger man now?” Leone turned into the next street. “I thought you’d given up on dating after Ambra? Or Esta? Or even Genevieve?” He looked at Bruno through the corner of his eye. He picked up on the way Bruno’s jaw clenched slightly after hearing his exes' names brought into the conversation. Despite what many people would assume, Bruno Bucciarati never had any luck with girlfriends. Yes he was sweet, outgoing, polite, a great cook, loving, he checked most if not all boxes on the typical ‘perfect boyfriend’ list; but his involvement with Passione was enough to render his pros useless. Ambra and Genevieve were both frightened by this connection, cutting the relationship short and eventually just ending communication with him as a whole, while Esta ended up using him for his money, despite knowing that Bruno was in love with her. These three relationships were enough to crush his spirit and deter him from dating as a whole, not wanting to have his heart shattered by anyone else. His coping mechanisms were focussing more on Passione and buying a restaurant close to his heart, Libeccio.
“She is just a friend, that’s all.” Bruno shrugged, eyes focused on the traffic lights up ahead.
“Ha! That’s rich!” Leone snorted, stopping for the red light, he paused, considering his words before saying them. “Does she know you’re in Passione?” Abbacchio had known Bruno through two of his relationships, and as one of his closest friends, he could also tell that Bruno was already interested in you and he didn’t want him to make another mistake. 
“No, she doesn’t.” 
Leone sighed, his skepticism growing. “Why not?”
“Because she doesn’t need to know.” Bruno snapped, winding down the window slightly for air. In his gut, he was sure that Leone knew his feelings for you, he was good at reading people. But still, Bruno was stubborn and would rather avoid such an intrusive conversation.
They had reached their destination, an old motel on the outskirts of the city. “It’s very clear that you like her Bucciarati, she’s the one you’ve been touring the city with right?” Leone sighed, knowing that he would be treading on an uncomfortable, but necessary conversation. “How do you know she’s not using you? Taking advantage of a rich guy to improve her time here, how much have you spent on her?”
“Not much.” This was technically true, anytime Bruno paid for anything, you paid him back or simply split the fee.
Abbacchio grunted, stepping out of the car and making his way to the motel room with Bruno right behind him. “Jeez, you never learn do you?” He scoffed, trying to find the right key for the room. “Don’t give me any of that ‘I don’t like her’ crap, you know you do that’s why you spent all your time with her.” He managed to unlock the door. “Just don’t let her break your heart again, I can’t say I’m expecting anything good from this.”
**************************************************
“Do you know the Amalfi Coast?” Bruno asked, poking you lightly.
You tapped your chin. “I’ve seen a few pictures, it looks beautiful.” You turned back to your plate of lasagne, cutting another piece of the dish and piling some salad on top.
Bruno cleared his throat, poking his carbonara as he tried to figure out how to word his next comment. His words were stuck in his throat leading him to continue tiptoeing around the topic as he had before. “There’s a very nice hotel that I go to sometimes, its so close to the water.” He looked up at you, trying to gauge your interest. You simply nodded and sipped your water, humming in response. “I think it's the kind of place to go with someone.” His voice upturned slightly, almost like he was asking a question. You still didn’t react much as you sipped your lemonade. Bruno huffed and placed his fork down, leaning towards you. “Y/n, I’m asking if you would like to join me.” He blurted out, making your eyes widen.
“Oh.” That was all you said as your hands paused in the middle of loading another forkful. There was an awkward pause and the air grew thicker. A bead of sweat trailed down the back of Bruno’s neck as the regret pooled at the bottom of his stomach. How could he think you would even agree to this? You had only known each other for just over two weeks, him suddenly inviting you to a hotel in another area just made him look like a creep. Now you knew he had some sort of interest in you and there was no backtracking.
‘I just want to curl up in a ball and-’
“I would love to go with you Bruno.” You said, cutting off his thoughts. You folded your lips in, fiddling with your thumbs as you stared at your plate bashfully. With such close proximity, Bruno could see the slight redness of your cheeks. So it looked like you both shared similar feelings towards each other, Bruno wondered how long the two of you had been in this state without knowing.
“I’ll drive us there tomorrow then.” He smiled, refilling his mocktail.
It felt like forever for Saturday morning to arrive, you spent hours fretting over what to wear. You hadn’t been on a date in a while (was this a date?), even longer since you went on a trip with someone you were interested in, and that most certainly didn’t end well. But you felt like Bruno was different. Despite his classy sense of style or his popularity among the locals, he never came across as judgemental or arrogant and that made it easier to get ready for the trip.
At 10 am, Bruno arrived at your hotel. This was the first time you ever told him where you were staying and you would rather he picked you up than you took a suitcase with you to meet at Libeccio. This was also the first time you ever saw his car. It looked expensive, a shiny black convertible that people kept looking at as they walked in and out of the hotel’s front doors. He wore a plain white t-shirt and had a pair of gold-rimmed sunglasses on his head. He shot you a confident smile as he waved at you, getting out to help you put your suitcase in the back.
The journey was a little longer than expected, around three and a half hours with the traffic that clogged the highway. Bruno had a designated travel playlist, burned onto a CD which he played for any long journey. It was a mix of American and Italian songs, mainly different variations of jazz or romantic songs, he made sure to sing along to most of them, even when he fumbled the lyrics. Bruno had a very smooth singing voice, his baritone voice made every word sound like honey as he sang, you could listen to it for hours.
You and Bruno conversed for a while, passing the time as you sat in traffic once more between Trecase and Torre Annunziata. Bruno told you how Mista and Giorno had asked about you, hoping to see you again before you leave, carefully excluding how they teased him for planning this trip to Amalfi, well aware of your shared interest in each other. Abbacchio was still skeptical, this spontaneous trip to Amalfi, which was completely covered by Bruno, didn’t help his gut feeling about you using him. But seeing how the two of you acted around the rest of the group made him a little more optimistic about the situation. He just hoped you wouldn’t run back home and block his number instantly.
“We’re here!” Bruno pulled up in front of a grand hotel, ‘’. It was a large classical building with pillars along the front, all coated in bright white. The inside was a soft gold colour with a gorgeous chandelier hanging from the ceiling. Being here was breathtaking, you always thought your hotel in Naples was fabulous, but this was extraordinary, does Bruno really make so much money to afford this just through restaurant owning?
After Bruno checked you in, he handed you the key to your room. You and Bruno were staying in separate large rooms next to each other on the sixth floor which gave you the perfect view of the water. After a couple hours of settling in, you took a tour around the coast. Amalfi was an interesting place, it was made up of thirteen towns, all clinging to the cliffs, reaching all the way down to the beautiful shore. Tourists traipsed up and down the area, some hiking on the Path of the Gods, while others explored the Blue Grotto caves in Capri. Bruno told you that when he was younger, he assisted his father with his duties as a fisherman: from gathering bait, to fishing, to following him on deliveries to the local fishmongers. He arranged a boat for recreational fishing just off the coast of Postiano, but for the sake of preserving the natural ecosystem, participants were asked to just catch and release.
The small boat rocked slowly on the water as Bruno guided you through fishing, holding your hands in the right position to be able to reel the fish in properly. It took a couple of tries, but you managed to catch a few small sardines.
That evening, Bruno had arranged dinner at a small restaurant near the hotel.
**************************************************
La Galleria was a cosy little place specialising in seafood from the local fishing ports. Your table was on the roof with a breathtaking view of the water below as the cooler evening breeze hit the back of your neck. You wore a simple red dress, while Bruno wore a red turtleneck with a black blazer. You both had bowls of chicken caesar salad, drizzled in a rich sauce, followed by a miso-glazed black cod on white rice for Bruno, and shrimp scampi with pasta for you. As the soft jazz from below wafted up to the roof, you and Bruno reminisced on your time together these past couple weeks, from strangers in Libeccio to sharing a meal in Amalfi. Your knee brushed against Bruno’s innocently as you talked, the close proximity making your heart race. Bruno was so handsome, and even though you told yourself that you wouldn’t let a crush grow to anything more, you couldn't help but feel the urge to have his muscular arms wrapped around you or run your fingers through his soft black hair made your stomach twist. You could listen to his voice for hours on end, enjoying his cute hand gestures and his rich accent. He was so kind to you too, planning so many trips, including paying for this one. He was way too generous to you and the last thing you wanted was to come across as a golddigger of some sort, Bruno was a genuinely nice guy, so patient and attentive.
Bruno’s heart was racing too, worried he would trip on his words or forget how to say something in English as he had before when talking to you. You always looked so beautiful to him, no matter what, you always took his breath away. He couldn’t imagine the last time he had felt so at ease around someone, much less a stranger he met a couple of weeks ago.
“Thank you so much Bruno, for tonight, for everything.” You said, your fingers lightly brushing against his on the table. He wanted to hold your hand badly, to kiss it again like he had before and tell you how much you meant to him.
“You’re welcome bella, I’ve really enjoyed these past-” He was cut off by the ringing of his phone, “please excuse me.” He got up immediately, excusing himself downstairs in a rush. You didn’t see the caller ID, but usually, Bruno was fine with answering calls around you, but his behaviour made you worry. The call was short and Bruno returned within a few minutes, facing his meal as if nothing happened. Ordinarily this would be normal, but it seemed like something was on his mind, like his mood was suddenly soured. You noticed how the space between you had grown slightly bigger than before, you were no longer lightly brushing against his knuckles, and nor were your knees connected. 
“Bruno, is everything okay?” You mustered up the courage to ask, worried that you would be prying too much into private affairs. You hoped he would just tell you everything was fine, that it wasn’t anything serious, but you knew it must have been.
“Y/n…” He sighed, biting on his bottom lip, “there’s something I need to tell you. I haven’t been completely honest about myself.” He avoided making eye contact with you, which was more than enough to elevate your worry. Your stomach dropped, a million possibilities racing through your head. Maybe he didn’t really like you, maybe he was using you for attention, reeling you in with a charming persona? Maybe he had a partner and was using you to cheat?
Bruno turned to face you, clutching your hand in his as he looked earnestly into your eyes. “I’m still Bruno, bella, I’m still the same person who owns Libeccio, and likes fishing. And I do like you, so much, but I can’t keep hiding this from you and I understand if this means you don’t want to be around me anymore.” His breathing was rapid as he squeezed your hand tightly. His mind was prepared for the worst scenario, he was ready for you to scream or run away from him, locking yourself in your room and finding your way back to Naples without him. He was ready for you to get angry or upset at him for not telling you sooner. Part of him regretted bringing it up already, feeling like he had thwarted his best attempt at love, but it wouldn’t be fair to keep you in the dark if he genuinely cared.
“Y/n, do you know what Passione is?”
You exhaled deeply, yes, you had heard of Passione, a hub for organised crime in the south of Italy. Was Bruno really part of them? When you think of mafiosi you imagine much older men, using laundered money for drugs, weapons, and exploiting women, at least that is the stereotype, was Bruno really one of them? Sweet, kind, generous, optimistic Bruno who you adored being around? The same Bruno who always helped anyone he saw? Who showed the utmost respect for all the older citizens and acted with integrity? You 100% believed that not everyone involved in crime is inherently bad, many people fall into it at low points of their lives, you knew that Bruno was a good man, regardless of his affiliation with the group.
When you didn’t respond, Bruno let go of you. “I knew this was a mistake, I should have just listened to Abbacchio and stopp-”
“Bruno,” You placed a hand on his, making him lose his train of thought, “I’m not upset that you’re in Passione.” You whispered, interlocking your fingers with his. “I don’t think less of you for it, I know that people can be put in situations that make them choose that path,” your eyes darted to the side, “but I believe you’re a good person Bruno, I really do. I’m not exactly in the safest position as a woman in a foreign country, but I feel so safe with you Bruno, regardless of Passione.” You meant everything you said, keeping your eyes locked on him to show your sincerity. “I-”
Before you could speak, Bruno’s lips were on yours.
His hand remained holding yours, though squeezing slightly tighter now, while his free hand held the side of your face. His lips were soft against yours as his thumb pressed against your cheekbone. Slowly he pulled away, rubbing his nose against yours slightly. “I’m sorry.”
“No, don’t apologise, really.” You squeezed his hand gently.
Bruno’s hand found itself fitting perfectly in the curve of your waist. “I want to be with you y/n, not just for this trip.” His voice was shaky, he tried his best to not push too hard. “It’s okay for you to say no, it is.”
“I want to be with you too Bruno, I really do.” Without thinking, your hand moved up to hold the side of his neck, feeling the heat radiating off him before moving down to his shoulder. “Can I ask, Bruno…why are you with them?”
He took a deep breath, already regretting what he was about to say. Bruno never liked talking about this incident, he never told anyone this story, not even his old girlfriends. “My father was in an accident when he was 12. He was in the hospital and one night some people tried to…to kill him.” The sympathetic look in your eyes made it easier for him to talk. “He wasn’t in a gang or anything, he was just an ordinary person. I was in the room when they snuck in, two men, I-” His words got trapped in his throat.  “I killed them.” He could tell from the small changes in your breathing, your posture, the glint in your eyes, that despite keeping an open mind about Passione, you couldn’t fully wrap your head around him being tied to murder. “If I didn’t they would have killed my father and come after me, there was nothing else I could do.” He begged, pleading for you to at least hear him out, scared that you would leave him after such a confession. “I had to go underground, I can’t do anything with something like that on my record.” The silence that followed was deafening, the sound of his heartbeat rang through his ears as his chest heaved slowly.
“It’s okay Bruno…it really is.” You whispered, “You’re the first person to know this and not run away or use me.”
“I wouldn’t do that to you, I’ve had my fair share of bad relationships. You’re the first person I’ve been able to actually feel happy with, Bruno, the first person to actually make me feel like you care.”
“Of course, I care about you bella, you mean the most to me. I hate that people have treated you that way, you deserve everything I could possibly give you and more…everything.”
The rest of dinner carried on smoothly, with Bruno’s seat much closer to yours and his hand resting on your knee. His eyes were more focused on you than the delicious food in front of him. His heart felt like it was going to leap out of his chest as your leg brushed up against him and your perfume wafted into his nose. Bruno really did think you were beautiful, the way your dark hair fell to your shoulders, contrasting your crimson dress. How your cheeks turned rosy when you laughed, or your tendency to fiddle with the hem of your clothing when you were tired. There had always been something in him that knew he had feelings towards you, but kissing you, even though it was brief, solidified his feelings.
Neither of you pushed any further about the kiss, nor did you talk about your beat-around-the-bush confessions. Instead, once dinner was over, you made your way back to the hotel silently.
“I guess I will see you in the morning then?” Bruno asked, letting out a soft laugh as you stood in front of your respective doors.
“Yeah, I guess I will.” You smiled as you waved each other goodbye. It wasn’t until you had both returned to your rooms that you were able to release the tension in your body. The kiss still lingered on your lips as you pulled your night shirt over your head and you could feel your face get warmer. You couldn’t deny that the idea of him kissing you was something buried in the back of your mind, especially when he would hold you in close embraces and his natural scent would waft into your nose. There was a part of you that wanted to continue, that wanted to go to his room and lie with him on this warm evening in Amalfi. To feel what it would be like for him to hold you in his arms as more than just a friend. You shook your head, feeling like a young teenager having their first kiss.
With a heavy sigh, you turned your attention to the TV opposite your bed and flicked through the channels, landing on what looked like a random soap opera. By your bed was a small menu with all the items available for room service and decided on a jug of lemonade to cool you down. When there was a knock just two minutes later, you were a little surprised by the speed of service. You were even more surprised by seeing Bruno standing by your door.
Bruno had been standing outside your door for the past five minutes, contemplating knocking on your door. Would he be intruding? Jumping to conclusions over a simple kiss?
Ah, but it wasn’t a simple kiss was it, you had confessed your feelings to each other.
But you only had three more days in Naples, maybe this was your way of getting some sort of closure, getting your feelings out on the table before you disappear and never cross paths again. Even on the off chance that anything came from this, it doesn’t mean it wouldn’t be weird for him to approach you like this.
While Bruno reasoned this in his head, his body had other plans. It wasn’t until you swung the door open that he realised he had already knocked. 
“Hi,” He swallowed, awkwardly placing his hands behind his back. “I hope I didn’t wake you.”
You shook your head as you opened the door wider, welcoming him into your room. “No no, I just haven’t been able to sleep.”
“Me neither.” He perched on the edge of the desk, watching the television next to it. “What are you watching?”
“I have no idea, I couldn’t figure out how to put it in English.” The silence from both of you overpowered the noise from the TV. Usually you would bounce off each other better, but the events at dinner seemed to leave you both somewhat shy. Deep down, you both wanted more, but neither of you had the confidence to make the first move.
Bruno walked over to you, sitting next to you on your bed, knee brushing against yours.
“Y/n…” He started, taking your hand in his, “I meant everything I said earlier, about how I feel about you.” His slender fingers traced the lines of your palm slowly. “In a perfect world, I’d want you to be with you, properly. But I know that you have to go back home soon, I understand if this has to end here.”
“It doesn’t have to.” The words spilt out of your mouth before you could even process them properly. “I mean…I can always come back, maybe sometimes you can visit me.” A long-distance relationship wasn’t something you ever really thought you would find yourself pursuing, but you couldn’t miss this opportunity with Bruno.
“I like that idea.” Bruno smiled, interlocking his fingers with yours before ducked down for another kiss, this one was shorter and sweeter, the type that gives you a warm feeling in yout gut. It was like a bridge had formed between the two of you and any worries about intimacy had been crossed out. “Out of curiosity, when are you next free?” His enthusiasm made you giggle.
You tapped your chin, recalling what you discussed with your boss before you left for Italy. “I have to use up my holidays within the next three months, maybe I can come back before they’re over.” You grinned widely, enjoying the way he his face softened at your words.
“Can’t you stay a little longer? Use up your holidays now?” He pulled you onto his lap, kissing all over your face. His demeanour had suddenly changed, knowing that he might only have to wait a couple of months to see the woman he cared so much about. You giggled as you held his broad shoulders, squeezing them lightly as you tried to pull him away from your face. He ducked down to nibble where your neck connected to your head, trying to coax you into staying.
You wrapped your arms around his neck, “I can’t afford it Bruno, and besides, I signed papers with my boss saying I would be back to work next week.” You felt him sigh against your neck.
“How much more time do you have left to use on holidays?”
“10 days I think.”
“I’ll book you a flight.”
“Bruno!” You pulled away, pinching his soft cheek “Do you not trust me?”
“Of course I do bella, but I just think it’s easier to book now that the prices are cheaper.” He wrapped his arms tighter around your form. It didn’t take long for his lips to fall back on yours, moving between them and your neck, only to be broken by a knock on your door.
“So sorry for the wait signorina, the machine wasn’t working.” The waiter apologised profusely as he placed your lemonade on the table.
“It’s no problem, thank you.” You smiled, closing the door behind him. You both shared a few glasses of the cool drink, talking more about the possibility of you coming back to Naples. Despite his earlier energetic behaviour, Bruno was quite understanding of the situation. He knew that compromises would have to be made and that things may not always work out, but regardless, he chose to be optimistic about the situation.
Once the jug’s contents had been thoroughly depleted, you found yourselves tucked under your bedsheets. You didn’t realise how tired you were until you fell asleep so quickly against his soft t-shirt, to the sound of his heartbeat. Cool air blew through the window, making you press up against him in your sleep as his hands moved down to hold your waist. Bruno’s heart was pounding like it wanted to leap right out of his ribcage. Being here, holding you, this was all he wanted. For the first time in so long, he felt like he was happy again, like you were the one for him. He gave up on this feeling ages ago, not wanting to risk another heartbreak, but now he couldn’t resist it.
He was in love.
**************************************************
Sunday was quite simple. Breakfast at a lovely little cafe, a bike ride through Sorrento and lunch back at the hotel. This was certainly not the first time you and Bruno had gone out together, but this time was different. The way he held your hand, your waist, hugged you, everything felt different now, a good type of different.
This “good different” continued to Monday and Tuesday, with Bruno being even more of a gentleman to you. He made sure to cherish every moment with you like he was making up for lost time.
The sun peeked through the window, highlighting your body as you hummed in your sleep. Bruno had been awake for a while now, the lump in his throat and the twists in his stomach making it harder to enjoy the warm summer morning.
Today was your last day, the last time he would be able to see you for who knows how long. He always knew you would leave, Naples wasn’t your home after all, and there is a chance it may never be. But now that the dreaded day had come, it just made his chest ache to the point where it made his head spin.
He wrapped an arm around your waist, pulling you closer until your back was pressed against him, allowing him to nuzzle into your neck. You groaned quietly, fidgeting in your sleep before settling once more. Bruno used this as an opportunity to place a kiss on your neck, enjoying the sweet natural scent emanating from your body. He slid his other arm under your body, hugging you properly as your legs tangled together under his sheets.
“Bruno…” You grinned, feeling the pressure of his body against you as he had you in a tight embrace. “I need my sleep you know?” You patted the side of his face lightly, enjoying the warmth emanating from his soft cheek.
His heart hurt even more hearing your voice, knowing this would be the last time he would hear it in person. “y/n…” He whispered, holding your hand gently in his, bringing it down to the soft mattress and interlocking your fingers with his. “When is your flight?” He mumbled into your neck, eyes locked on his thumb stroking your skin.
You inhaled sharply, realising why his tone had been so mellow this morning. “6 pm, there’s been a car arranged.” You bit your bottom lip, feeling Bruno lean away from you with a deep sigh. His arms left your body cold air hit your back.
“I’ll come with you, I’ll see you off at security.” Bruno said, laying on his back, staring up at the ceiling. You turned around to face him, watching the sun highlight the lower half of his face and chest, coating them in a pale yellow glaze. His lips were downturned slightly, forming an involuntary frown as his eyebrows furrowed. His expression made your heart sink to your stomach, you knew you would miss him so much.
You scooched closer, resting a head on his flattened shoulder as your fingers traced his chest gently. “I’ll come back Bruno,” You dragged your fingers down to his navel. “I promise.” You looked up at him, catching how his eyes shifted from you as soon as you made eye contact, realising that you caught him staring. His cheekbones were softly dusted with pink as he cleared his throat.
“I know you will, and I’ll find time to visit you.” He cupped the side of your face, “but you can’t blame me for being a little upset that you’re leaving.”
“I know, I am too.” You gave a half-smile, holding his wrist. Seeing you frown made his heart sink even more, it wasn’t his intention to dampen the mood so early in the morning.
“Y/n, why don’t we go to Libeccio? For your last meal here?” Bruno asked. Ending the trip with the place you met seemed perfect. It also gave Bruno the opportunity to make sure you received the best service possible.
“I’d love to.”
You both laid in bed for a while, enjoying each other’s warmth until noon when you finally got up for lunch. You wore a simple sundress with a red flower pattern along it, something that Bruno absolutely adored on you. Hand in hand, you left his home for the restaurant, deciding to have one last walk through the streets you grew to love. Libeccio was slightly quieter than usual, what with it being lunchtime on a Wednesday, this at least made it easier to talk to each other.
“Oh? If it isn’t the two lovebirds!” A familiar voice called, you looked up to see Mista leaning on the back of Bruno’s chair, much to his dismay, poking his nose into his menu. Bruno had made the mistake of being open to the group about his feelings for you, this ultimately left him vulnerable to childish teasing which would surely get worse when you weren’t around. “Y/n, Bucciarati says you’re leaving today?”
“Mhm, I need to leave for the airport in a few hours.”
“Ah, this one will certainly miss you,” He nudged Bruno with his elbow, “he goes on and on about you all the time anyways.” He scoffed.
“Don’t you have somewhere to be?” Bruno asked, not bothering to look up from the menu.
“I actually came to collect an order,” He lifted up the black bag in his hand, that explained the sudden smell of shrimp. “But I might as well give Y/n a goodbye hug.” Mista walked towards you, pulling you out of your seat and hugging you tightly. Bruno knew what Mista was doing by pressing his palms on your lower back and hugging you for much longer than what was needed. But it was in his nature to tease people like that, after all, you and Mista grew to be quite good friends, and you both knew he was playing around. “Make sure to come back soon!” Mista waved as he left the restaurant.
Bruno turned back to you to see a smirk across your lips. “What?” He asked, tilting his head to the side.
“Your face when Mista hugged me, I didn’t think it would get to you.” You laughed, flicking through the calzones section of the menu.
“Can you blame me for being a little jealous?” Bruno sighed, closing his menu and placing it on the table. He waved at one of the waiters, a tall, slender young man with long wavy hair, eager to take your orders.
Over lunch, you discussed plans for when you went back home: how to fit your schedules around each other, the possibility of sending each other gifts, and Bruno travelling to visit you. The thoughts alone brought butterflies to your stomach, the idea of Bruno being in your home, visiting your favourite places, your family and friends even. You already had a list of things to do with him buried at the back of your mind.
Once the plates were cleared and the bill was paid, you found yourselves in a small park, wandering along the footpaths that weaved along the luscious green grass, between the thick oak trees.
“Y/n…we need to get to the airport soon.” Bruno whispered, pulling your waist towards him as he sandwiched you between him and an old tree.
“Mhm.” You rest your head on his shoulder in a warm embrace, his rich cologne flooding your nose with a scent you would soon miss.
“Y/n…mi bella.” The pet name made your heart well up. “I know we haven’t been together for a long time but…the feelings I have for you, it’s like I-”
“I know what you mean Bruno.” You cut him off quietly, tugging his soft cotton shirt. You felt the same way Bruno did, the tingles you got when he held your hand, the way your body perfectly moulded into his, how your stomach twisted and turned anytime he looked you in the eye. Somehow, somewhere, along the line, you realised that you had fallen in love with the kind mafioso that swept you off your feet.
“So you love me too bella?” Bruno asked, a teasing tone to his words as his lips met your forehead.
You rolled your eyes playfully, enjoying how his soft lips felt against your skin. “Well if I have to put it in words, then yes.”
Bruno’s heart pounded in his chest, he could feel the shakiness in his breathing from the relief of knowing that you felt the same way he did. It was almost laughable how quickly the chains around his heart loosened when you appeared. How his vows to never give in to another person were discarded as he got closer and closer to you. You were perfect to him, everything he wanted and more, and he knew he couldn’t just let you leave without letting you know how much power you had over him and his weak heart.
“Bella, I love you so much, more than I’ve ever loved anyone. Please remember that, always, even if I’m not there with you.”
“I love you too Bruno, truly I do. I haven’t felt this way with anyone in so long I-” Bruno’s lips pressed gently against yours, stealing your breath away.
“I’m sorry to cut you off but you just look so cute, why do you have to leave today bella, stay here with me a little longer.” He groaned, placing a soft kiss on your forehead, knowing how much he would miss this.
“Believe me, I want that more than anything, but I have to go back, Bruno.” The thought of not being able to hold him like this, to not stroke his soft black hair or look into his warm eyes, ate away at you.
“We should probably head to the airport soon then.”
Within the hour, you were at the airport, waiting in the busy queue to check in your luggage, while Bruno held you from behind, chin resting on your head. You ended up with one extra bag, filled with gifts for your friends and family: trinkets, snacks, clothing, as well as things that Bruno bought you.
“When you land, let me know okay?” Bruno hugged you one last time, his hands memorising the curve of your body, ingraining everything from your scent to the softness of your skin in his memory. His lips moved to kiss your forehead gently, “Y/n…I won’t pretend like I’m not going to miss you every day. I want us to work out bella, I’ll take time to visit you whenever I can okay?” The slight sniffles and breaks in his voice made your heart sink. Bruno loved you so much, more than he could contain, and you felt the same way about him as you inhaled his rich cologne.
“Bruno, I’ll miss you just as much, if not, more.” You whispered, wrapping your arms around his neck. “I’ll call you as soon as I get back mi amore.” Hearing you use that name on him made his stomach twist and turn. Being called that, by you, in your voice that soothed his soul made his heart beat even faster. At that point, he just had to steal another kiss from you, a passionate one that stuck on your lips even after you pulled away.
Reluctantly, he pulled away, letting you cross the barrier to find your gate, and with tears welling in both of your eyes, you waved each other goodbye, thankful for this spontaneous trip that brought the two of you together.
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bloomingdayswithyou · 9 months
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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🩷
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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.
.
.
.
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danddymaro · 1 year
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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.
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yachiblanca · 2 years
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Bucciarati and Abbacchio may be a big difference of two people when comparing them, but you know what's one that's very similar? Quick to noticing their loved one stressed.
So it's best to spill everything out to them instead of keeping it in.
Bucciarati is a well experienced man when listening to others, his gaze at you shows not worry- but it's the gaze that makes you want to say everything you've been stressing on, that you may 100% end up in his arms while he gives you little smooches on the forehead as he listens.
Bucciarati has some sort of fuzzy nature that you can just snuggle on, so without a doubt you can talk to Bruno about everything that's been bothering you. Always remember that Bruno is always ready to listen, he's going to listen carefully- each words coming out of your soft lips, remembering little details about your words.
Abbacchio looks like the type who doesn't care about anything at the outside, trust me if he notices your face upset- this man will flip like a switch. He's going to be looking at you all day, he's waiting for the moment of both of you alone then confront you of what's bothering you.
Abbacchio didn't grow with loving words- or have not experienced saying much, the best he can do is listen. It's quite rare for Abbacchio to say something that can melt your heart, but he can't face his loved one stressed- so expect to be a melted ice cream soon. He may be a quiet and tough-looking man on the outside, but his words will ate soft like a group of feathers.
Now what if you were stressed in the middle of the meeting?
Bucciarati will always not hesitate to make the first move immediately, he cares deeply for his friends but imagine how much more deep his care is for you? Bucciarati would stand up and call you to follow him in a private area then asking you what's wrong. He can't bare his loved one stressed, so spill everything out as much as you can. It doesn't matter how long it would take, he wants to hear every bit of your words till they run out.
Abbacchio would keep it lowkey, when sitting beside each other- he sees you in a stressed look, you're going to flinch a little if you feel something touch your hand, soon knowing it was Abbacchio's hand. His thumb will circle the back of your hand while each of your fingers intertwine each other, he'll keep doing that as long as no one sees. When you look at him he's just listening to his music with his eyes closed, yet his touch is giving you comfort.
Bonus : Stare at him while his headphones are on, wait for the moment he checks on you. Once he bats an eye open- give him a direct sweet smile. His face will turn flustered but he may end up letting your hand go.
And as for Bucciarati, he may get carried away and start treating you immediately. Accidentally leaving his other members wondering where you both went for the past 30 minutes as you and Bruno are eating desserts- Everything is all on Bucciarati 😉
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inkpot909 · 6 months
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How They Text the Reader Headcanons
↳ Characters included are Bruno Brucciarati, Leone Abbacchio, and Guido Mista. Gender Neutral Reader with they/them pronouns.
A/n: I’ve always wanted to try my hand at doing x Reader text messages! This was very fun to make, and I do plan to make more of this kind of headcanon list for the rest of Bucciarati’s team.
Warning(s): None.
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Bruno Bucciarati
Bruno’s text messages are straight to the point and utilize proper grammar like the mother he truly is deep down.
Not the type of person to send emoji’s… ever, really. This is because he views texting as a simple tool to use when he can’t just speak to you in person or over a phone call.
However, you prefer the funnier explanation of it actually being because he’s secretly very inept at using technology (this is very much so part of it he just won’t ever say so).
In all honesty, he prefers to call you and hear the sound of your voice more than communicating over text. He’s the type to call in order to converse about whatever mundane thing is on his mind instead of sending a text.
That said, he’s definitely the type to always tell you good morning or wish you goodnight with a sweet text message.
Also, because of his job, he’s often put into long-term situations where calling isn’t exactly ideal. That’s when he’ll text the most; he just wants to check up on you regularly when he can’t be there in person do so! This became especially true after rising to the position of Capo.
His text messages may seem… bland to those unfamiliar with him.
But since you know him as well as you do, they always ring as genuine and an extension of his polite kindness.
Admittedly, it is hard to argue against the fact that his straightforward style of text often leads to misunderstandings. This is due to his sometimes unreadable tone:
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Leone Abbacchio
Hardly ever texted you at the beginning.
Since the two of you started going out, he’s gotten a bit better, though. Before, he was very adamant that if he has something to say, he’ll wait when he’s face-to-face with you.
But when he eventually let it slip that he often forgets what he even wants to talk to you about, you slowly began getting him to text you more.
Arguably the best method of doing so is to get him to tell you about something he feels strongly about. Whether it’s something positive like asking him about the music he’s been listening to recently, or it’s something more devilish like bringing up subjects that really bother him.
Leone is at least very reliable.
Meaning that, although he doesn’t often start a conversation over text himself, he will respond to you reasonably quick.
Tease him by claiming it’s because he has a soft spot for you and he won’t text for an entire day (you know he loves you).
He also prefers to use proper grammar and punctuation in his texts. That said, Leone does use emojis (usually just to express disappointment) and sometimes can seem more expressive in text than he is in actual conversation.
One sweet thing he does over text is that he always sends you a message after he makes it home after a particularly dangerous mission, informing you that he’s safe. He knows you worry, and although he often puts up a front claiming it’s annoying, he truly does take note of that concern.
Abbacchio’s just not completely used to having someone like you in his life who holds a special concern for him. He is adjusting; slow and steady.
And although he forms the habit of texting you more, it’s you and only you he has the energy to do this for (outside of probably Bruno). This leads to other’s on Bucciarati’s team to text you when they want to get a hold of him:
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Guido Mista
Real talkative over text, especially in the evening after he’s finished with his dinner. He’s pretty expressive and uses a decent amount of emojis.
Will plop down on his couch with an exaggerated bounce, pull out his phone, only with the purpose of talking to you and doing nothing else on the device.
The two of you actually had to work on how late you’d stay up texting one another.
Hours disappearing in the blink of an eye and leaving you both extra tired the next morning. And on occasions that it was decided to take the conversation into a call… it’s easy to see why you both have slept in late more than once.
Although not as frequently as someone like Narancia, Mista will send memes every now and then. Not only that, but he always replies to the ones you send him.
He prefers to send you embarrassing or funny pictures of others in the group over memes, though. You’ve seen photos of Abbacchio and Fugo in particular that Mista could honestly use as blackmail.
This has bitten him in the butt quite a bit, though.
After discovering Mista’s been doing this, the others now send you every single unfavorable image they own of the gunslinger. Even Bruno’s sent his fair share.
And although Mista often forgets to say good morning to you through text, he always says goodnight to you.
Not only that, but Mista will text right after he’s completed with a mission. Although a bit of a goofball, he always takes work seriously, and will leave you on delivered on hours at a time depending on what he’s up to. But the minute things have calmed, he’s letting you know.
Mista will certainly ask one of his common out-of-pocket questions designed to get a conversation going via a text message.
This isn’t a bad thing per se, except for the fact that he has a bad habit of doing so at three in the morning.
Even still, they’re not the weirdest variation of texts you’ve ever received from him:
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etherealzx · 2 years
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"I Cannot Bear to be Apart from You Anymore" Leone Abbacchio x Reader
genre: fluff
warnings: fem!reader. feminine terms used.
a/n: i can't get the idea of a gooey, lovey-dovey abbacchio love confession out of my head... he's so stubborn but holding his feelings in drives him nuts. (PS, my requests are still OPEN!)
you were nervous. the gang was so close to finding the true identity of the boss, but it hadn't been an easy task. it had been dangerous and scary, and it was about to get even scarier. fighting the boss face-to-face was going to be incredibly hard, even with all of your team working together. but even scarier than the thought of yourself dying was the thought of him dying. abbacchio.
you hadn't admitted your feelings to him. you were way too scared to do that, what if you ruined your friendship? the two of you had become close ever since you joined Passione, sharing plenty of deep conversations over glasses of wine. the more you two got to know each other, the more you realized you had in common. abbacchio used his stubborn, stoic persona to try and seem tough to everyone else. tough he was, however there was a soft, loving man underneath that hard exterior. you knew this because of the way he had opened up to you.
before you had even realized it, you had fallen head over heels. your heart fluttered each time he walked into the room, and you could barely contain your excitement when he sat next to you during gang meetings. but did he feel the same? did he want to be more than friends the way that you so desperately did? there was no way for you to know. what if you admitted your love for him and he didn't feel the same? just the thought made you sick to your stomach with fear. this fear is exactly what made you keep your feelings to yourself.
bucciarati had called for one final meeting before going to confront the boss tomorrow. he wanted to make sure that everyone was prepared for the deadly fight that was about to take place come morning. you walked into the room, abbacchio right behind you. he sat in his usual spot, right beside yours. you smiled at him, and he smiled back. you noticed he was fidgeting with his hands a lot, and he even had sweat beads forming on his temples. he wasn't usually the nervous type. was he really that nervous about the fight tomorrow?
"you okay, leone?" you asked, placing a hand on his.
he looked up quickly. "y-yeah. just nervous about tomorrow, is all," he stammered.
bucciarati began the meeting as soon as all of your team members had made their way into the room. the air was thick with tension, and you could tell everyone was anxious. even the strongest of the group were shaken up. however, abbacchio seemed especially nervous. way more than he usually let on. "what's up with him? this isn't like him at all..." you thought to yourself silently. it was all you could think about the entire meeting, as you attempted to comfort him by placing your hand on his tense thigh.
after the meeting let out, he grabbed you gently by the arm. "y/n, can i talk to you for a sec?" he asked nervously.
"of course, you can tell me anything," you smiled. your heart raced in your chest. what did he want to talk about that was bothering him this badly?
he grabbed you by the hand and led you out to the moon-lit street outside. it was dead quiet outside, except for the sounds of crickets chirping off in the distance.
"look, y/n," he said, his amber eyes meeting yours.
"the two of us have been getting closer these past few months. i love your company, i love talking to you. no one has quite been able to understand me or comfort me the way that you have."
your eyes widened. you pinched yourself to make sure you weren't dreaming.
"i, i just..." he was struggling to get his words out. his cheeks were tinted pink, and he had sweat running down his face.
"i cannot bear to be apart from you anymore. i have to confess this to you, even if you don't feel the same. i might die tomorrow and i can't let myself die without telling you that i love you. i always have, since the day you joined our team."
you sat in pure shock. you felt your cheeks getting hot, and tears stinging behind your eyes. all this time, he had felt the same about you. you were both in love with each other.
"oh, leone," you sighed happily. you reached your hand up to cup his cheek. "you don't know how long i've waited to hear those words come out of your mouth."
a look of shock covered his face, like he couldn't believe that his feelings were reciprocated. he grabbed your face and pulled it towards his. your lips were almost touching, you could feel his warm breaths escaping his lips. you leaned in, finally closing the gap between the two of you. you closed your eyes and melted into him as he kissed you, his large hand placed on the small of your back.
he pulled away, arm still wrapped around your waist.
"y/n, when all of this shit with the boss is over with, i want to take you back to naples and marry you." he said gently. you felt your heart flutter with joy.
"are... are you proposing?" you asked excitedly.
he laughed. "yeah, fuck it, i guess i am. if we survive this fight, will you marry me, y/n?"
you didn't even have to think about what you wanted to say. "of course i will. i love you."
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giggly-squiggily · 8 months
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TickleTober Day 5 ~I'm Not Ticklish~ (Jojo's Bizarre Adventure)
For the wonderful @gladdygirl18 :3
“You’re full of merde!”
Abbachio raised a brow above his wine glass, sipping slowly and drawing out the tension. “Rude- watch your mouths. And it’s true; I’m not ticklish.”
“That’s a load of sh-crap! Everyone’s ticklish!” Narancia argued, slapping his hands on the table with a huff. “Even Bucciarati’s ticklish!”
“Yeah! I bet you even the big boss is ticklish!” Mista added. The trio paused at the thought, humming. “But yeah- there’s no way you’re not!”
“There is a way- I’m simply immune.” Abbachio finished off his wine with a flick of his wrist, leaning back in his chair as the pair before him huffed. “There’s not a spot on me that’s ticklish.”
“Ribs?” Narancia darted over, jabbing them repeatedly.
“Try again.” Abbachio leaned his arm back further against the chair to prove his point.
“Waist?” Mista pinched it. Nothing.
“Oh, you know what? Fugo’s BAD here!” Narancia jabbed him under the arm with a giggle. Abbachio merely raised a brow. “What?” “GioGio’s really ticklish here!” Mista clawed at his belly, and still- there was nothing! “Or was it…here?” He squeezed his thigh.
“Come on- it’s got to be somewhere!” Narancia poked and prodded along his torso, looking for giggle spots.
“You're wasting your time. Just take my word for it and leave it b-EH!” Abbachio went to swat them away when a stray finger jabbed his hip, making him spasm in his seat. Mista and Narancia gaped like fish.
Then they were grinning.
“Oh Abba~” Narancia cooed, wiggling his fingers.
“Looks like we found your tickle spot~” Mista was already reaching for his hip.
“Oh no- don’t you dare you pieces of shi-hhihihiihiihihihit!” Abbachio had no time to run- he was immediately attacked by twenty busy fingers, jabbing and prodding at his hips. “Stahahhahap iihiihihihit, yoohohoohohu ahahahahhahsshohohohohles!”
“Now who’s got the potty mouth?” Narancia laughed, kneading Abbachio’s hip as Mista tapped against his other side. “Hey- Mista; check his ribs again!”
“Huh? Oh okay.” Shrugging, the gunner did just that.
“GEHahhahahahahha! Shihiihihiht, gehehhheht bhahahahahahck!” Abbachio nearly flew out of his chair at the new spot being attacked, sinking back in his chair as he laughed and wheezed.
“Holy crap he IS ticklish here!”
“See? I knew he was hiding it! Still not ticklish, Abba?”
“Aheahahhahahha! Screhehehhehw yohohoohohou!” When the fingers came back to his hips, Abbacchio gave in almost immediately. “Fihihihihine, Fihihihihine I’m tihihihihicklish, now stahhahahap!”
“Hehe, new it!” Narancia laughed as the two pulled away, high fiving each other overhead. Abbachio groaned softly, pushing back his hair with a soft laugh. “We got 'em!”
“Hell yeah!” Mista grinned. “Now- who’s next?”
Just then- they’re next target walked right into their web.
“Mista, Narancia- Bucciarati’s looking for you two. Said something about a…um, what’s going on?” Giorno blinked at the sight- Abbacchio flustered and exhausted with Mista and Narancia staring back at him. “Guys?”
“Get him?” Mista raised a brow.
“Get him.” Narancia agreed. Within seconds, they were running at Giorno, the blonde flying out the door with a startled “Merde!”
“Heh…good luck, you damn brat.” Abbacchio grinned as the sound of laughter filled the room once more, pulling on his headphones.
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abellaheart-blog · 2 years
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Hello! I was wondering if you still do other requests! I have one for JJBA! Could I have bucciarati gang + trish comforting their s/o through some past trauma, I don't mean to make it all sad more of like angst + comfort!
Author Note: Yes I do! I don’t mind this request. I enjoy writing comfort/angst. Thanks for adding Trish Una and requesting this
Bucci gang Comforting Their S/o Through Past Trauma 💙
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Bruno Bucciarati
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Bruno will listen carefully to what you say about your trauma. He’s very comforting and affectionate. He’ll hold you in his arms while you tell him about it.
He’s saddened hearing about your trauma but he’s assuring that he’ll be there for you
Bruno is understanding and he’ll want to help in anyway he can
He’s going to give you his condolences as he’s talking to you
Bruno’s extra careful with you about the topic when discussed or brought up again
Over all he’ll take extra precaution of your well being and checks on your emotional stress, mental health
Narancia Ghirga
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He’ll be incredibly worried about you. He’s giving you such saddening eyes. To think his beloved has been through so much. He’s easily holding your hand.
He’ll tell you how awful it is you’ve been through so much and how you didn’t deserve it. He wants to let you know that your loved ones are always there for you including himself
He’ll hold both your hands and look you in the eyes as he’s talking to you the entire time.
Narancia will hug you if you cry. He’ll wipe your tears with his hands and kiss your face.
He wants you to let your emotions out and to tell him all the pain you’ve been through so he can comfort you about it
When your not looking he wipes a tear from his eye
Narancia will invite you on relaxing walks with him a lot so he can be there for you more often
Panacotta Fugo
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Fugo feels so heart broken upon you revealing your trauma to him. He would never want you to go through something like it. He understand how it feels more than anyone.
Fugo tells you how strong you are and how he is there for you
He’s also going to hold your hand. His grip will tighten slightly when your head is down cast and he’ll express his thoughts to you.
Fugo will want to know everything, as long as you’re willing. He’ll place a comforting hand on your shoulder while he’s listening.
If you cry he uses his handkerchief to wipe your tears and he wraps his arm around you while you’re talking.
Fugo will be reassuring and really comforting due to his understanding
Fugo will write you love letters expressing so much comforting words from now on. Expect them at least once a week unless his work load is too much or he’s overly stressed
Leone Abbacchio
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Abbacchio is someone who would be shocked at first before giving you such a sad expression. The last thing he would want is for this to happen to you.
He’s going to have such a sad expression on his face
Leone wraps an arm around you as he listens. He’ll want you to lean against him or lay your head on your shoulder if you like.
He’ll tell you what’s on his mind and helpful words.
He’s pretty understanding and will want to be helpful
He won’t push it but he’ll tell you expressing it to other close loved ones would be helpful too
If you cry he’ll allow you to cry on his shoulder. He kisses your forehead.
He’ll buy you CDS so you atleast have your favorite music when he’s not there. He lets you barrow his own CDS too. If you don’t use CDS he pays for your Spotify premium, music apps or however it is you access music. He wants something good quality for you.
He’s going to send more text messages comforting you and asking about your well being
Trish Una
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She’ll also be heart broken upon knowing you’ve been through so much. Her eyes glisten as she gives you a worried expression.
She’ll listen to all you have to say and express her concern for your well being
If you’re okay with it she’ll like to sit on your lap and hold you in her arms so you can lay your head against her should or chest, or she’ll also want you to lay in her arms.
She used her handkerchief to wipe your tears if you cry. It smells like chamomile and her
Trish wants to tell you how strong you are and how she’s honored you’d tell her about your trauma since it isn’t easy expressing. She loves you and wants to tell you she is there for you.
Trish also wants to have a full on conversation about what happened and gives you words of affirmation
Every once in a while she’ll make you a card comforting you about your trauma. They’re kind words of affirmation without directly talking about your trauma
Giorno Giovanna
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Giorno will listen to all you have to say before responding
He tells you his exact thoughts. How it’s saddening you’ve been through such trauma, how he’ll do everything in his power to help, and his responses to what happened to you.
He has a worried expression and he’s going to hold your face the entire time. He’ll rub his thumb affectionately on your cheek to comfort you. If not he’ll lightly hold your face. Leaning against his touch will be comforting because he’s so gentle and his hand smells like flowers.
Giorno expresses comforting words and he’ll give you helpful words
If you cry he’s holding you in his arms or sitting you on his lap to hold your hand while the other wipes your tears
When he’s in bed that night hell stay up thinking about it and tears up a bit about it. He‘s more than motivated to help you. He’s going to call you from work everyday to check on you and your over all well being.
Guido Mista
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He’s going to be shocked by all that has happened to you but the minute you bring it up he’s right by your side
Mista wants you to express everything to him
He’ll give you helpful words and how you need to express your feelings to all your loved ones too. He thinks it’s important for your well being but he also understands if you don’t feel comfortable bringing it up.
He wants to hold your hand or wrap an arm around you
Guido promises to be there for you. He’s having a full on discussion with you about what you’ve brought up.
If you cry he wants to sit you on his lap or lay you against his chest
His words will be comforting and meaningful
From then on he’ll make you breakfast every morning or take you out in the morning so he can spend more time with you. Asking about your mental status, how you’re doing, he wants to make sure you’re okay, that everything is going to be okay if you feel as though it’s not.
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starry-snippets · 1 year
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thinking about soft abbacchio. you're having a rough day for whatever reason, and you can't get your headphones to work. you haven't come down for dinner so bruno sends abbacchio to check on you, knowing you are crushing on each other, and he sees you crying while holding your broken headphones. he can tell immediately from your heaves it isn't about just the headphones. abbacchio's first thought is to leave, maybe fetch bruno since he is the only one (besides you) who can calm him down, but when he hears you call for him that thought leaves his mind. abbacchio can't run away when he can help you. he'll sit besides you, turning on the playlist you made for when you have to drive extensively on missions. abbacchio watches your breathing steady as he uses the same techniques bruno does with him when things get too bad. halfway through the playlist you're smiling while he whines about nothing important, mainly just to see your smile. that's when abba really realizes he loves you. anyone else and he would of let someone else handle your distressed state. but seeing you broken and sobbing – for some reason abbacchio couldn't bare it. as your shared tunes continue blasting and you ask if you could explain why your day went so poorly, abbacchio just stares at you with an expression that reads "fuck what do I do?" you may think he doesn't know how to comfort you further, but really he's just dreading the possible hurt that can come from loving you cause he's #traumatized
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