A/N: I am not big on villain stuff but I decided to appease the people. Disclaimer for non-con, although nothing intense.
File 003 in the TCAU Reports
It was bound to happen sooner or later. I mean your friends had superpowers- being kidnapped should have been a given, honestly you're surprised it hadn't happened sooner. Sure, your friends had powers but none of them were vigilantes, not that you know of at least. Maybe Dave, it's always fucking Dave.
"Uh boss... I think we got the-"
"If that sentence ends with wrong person, I will personally kill you"
Uh oh- the bag over your head was yanked off to reveal a very displeased person. They were huge, stocky, broad shoulders, massive biceps- hey wait, lock in. You could die. Now is not the time to ogle over a villain. Sigh you really need to stop reading fan fiction.
"I-I'm really sorry boss I-"
A tired hand clenced the bridge of their nose as they responded with a curt "It's fine"
"I-I won't do it again- I-"
You were certain you were about to witness someone being offed right in front of you. Not one to take chances you squeeze your eyes shut.
"Leave us- I'm not mad... Just disappointed- we don't get civilians involved, ever"
Huh? Weren't villains supposed to be I dunno, cruel and uncaring? Then why did- why were they hugging their minion like a parent would an upset toddler!? Okay this city was weird, you should have never moved here.
"Are you hurt?" they spoke with an air of authority that made you shiver.
"Uh no- um-"
"Good. I'm not going to hurt you. Sorry about the kidnapping, my colleague is just going through stuff so they're off their game- you know how it is...."
You most certainly did not know how it is.
"You wouldn't happen to know anything that happened April 14th would you?"
You let out a muttered curse despite yourself. Fucking Dave. You school your expression, it's not like you could say much anyways.
"I see... Well um, we'll drop you off where we got you, will just take the ship some time"
Ship? Where the heck were you? You stiffened as the villain approached you.
"Look, I don't want to hurt you- and I won't. I just need you to cooperate," they said with a gentle hiss.
Your mind raced, as the minion from before brought in a tray of assorted devices, some sharp, some dull, all used for extracting information you thought.
"Uh boss- I-I cleaned everything"
An exasperated sigh leaves their pursed lips. "Thank you, you are dismissed..."
They watched you curiously as you stared wide eyed at the tray.
"These aren't for you so you can relax"
"Oh gee thanks! I didn't know, since this is my first time being kidnapped after all"
Shit. Where did that even come from? Maybe now's not the time to sass someone when you're tied up.
"Oh?" they let out a soft huff, your brazen attitude catching them off gaurd. "You're a funny one hm?"
You swallow thickly, their face inches from yours. They had a scar running over their eye. The way they towered over you-
"Do you know what I can do? What I'm capable of?" they ask coldly, interrupting your thoughts.
Before you can respond, they turned to the dummy their minion just wheeled in. You had a feeling this was a common occurence. With a simple flick of their finger the dummy flung across the room, crashing with a thunderous clang. You stare, mouth agape, super strength.
"I'll ask again... Do you know what happened April 14th?"
Okayokayokay this was just them trying to intimidate you right? Besides, revealing your friends real name was probably not the best idea-
"I could break your rib with a nudge, so I suggest you-"
Squeaked. You literally squeaked. In your defense, and let this be the last time I defend you, their finger proded you so gently, of course it tickled.
"Take them to the interrogation room"
~
"Would you like some water?" the minion- I mean Xarion, The Destroyer of Worlds and Interplanetary Cessastion, or Xari for short- asked.
"Uh no I'm ok thanks Xari."
With a small smile, he walked away leaving you alone with the unnamed villain, hands tied firmly above your head.
"This might be the silliest thing I've done, but the sooner you talk the quicker you can go home," they said, cracking their knuckles.
"I-I don't- listen we can- Stupid- rubber boy or whatever he calls himself-"
"-So you do know."
It would be easy to just let you talk seeing as though you're unraveling at the seams so quickly but... Imagine being a villain running a literal empire, even they deserve some good ole TLC.
As you stammered all over yourself, they lazily ran a finger up and down your side, causing you to erupt into a fit of giggles.
"I'm barely touching you kid"
Your face was flushed, this was evil, this was cruel and inhumane. This, this- random person has you strung up in a room, tickling you and making smug remarks. You jumped in place, hopping around like there were hot coals beneath your feet as you felt their gentle touches crawling down to your stomach. The villain laughed, amused at the sight.
"You should probably get this checked-" they began with a voice of genuine concern "-I don't think it's normal to be this sensitive, maybe you have a condition. I dropped out of medical school to pursue, well, this, but-"
"Shut uhuhuhp" you managed to blurt out. This was just insulting. Get checked? For what? Excessive ticklishness? Who referred you? Oh y'know, just a supervillain.
With a smirk, they caught one of your legs, which "accidentally" kicked them. It only took a few firm squeezes above your knee for you to begin laughing once more. There was something about the contrast, someone whose whole thing is their strength, being so delicate with you that made it tickle more. I mean, they probably had to be soft lest your bones be shattered if they weren't careful.
They let out a gentle huff, simply observing how your laughter seemed to grow the longer they went.
"You good?"
After a few deep breaths, you shoot them a glare.
"Drink."
This was humiliating. Xari had come in to raise a glass of water to you; the silly straw, which they insisted upon, touched your lips. Once you were done, you barely registered the sound of rustling coming from behind you.
"So about this- Dave, or rubber boy as you call him"
"Wait- he calls himself Dave?" you ask incredulously.
A curt nod was all you got in reply. Dave didn't know anything about aliases apparently, that kid was certainly going to get himself killed. But with how this villain was currently going on a tirade talking about how much of a nuisance Dave is, made you chuckle.
"He's such an idiot" both of you say in unison, a tinge of playful affection, at least in your statement.
"HEY- Get that- away from me-" you whine as a feather fluttered against your neck. When did they even get that? It didn't help that they looked utterly bored. Like subjecting you to tickles was the last thing they wanted to do and yet they did it anyways.
"I'm guessing you're not gonna help me?"
"Well no- snorts quit that!"
Okay maybe the aloof expression was a farce, this devil spawn took some sort of sadistic joy in toying with you.
"This is quite pathetic," they stated, trailing the feather over the shell of your ear, eliciting another snort from you.
With one hand they yank you free of the restraints, breaking a part of the ceiling in their haste, which they quickly brushed aside to protect you. There is no way of sugercoating this but you're doomed. With stupidly delicate hands they hoisted your arms up as you tried in vain to fight against it. Their hand was now poised directly above your underarm, fingers twitching menacingly. You tried really hard to not laugh, and hey two seconds is definitely a new record!
There was a slight flush on the villain's face like they were embarrassed for you. But that stupid smirk told you all you needed to know. The room is filled with a startling loud laugh, their hand finally making light contact on your armpit. You wish they could be a little less gentle, you didn't expect it to be this bad, especially when they started lightly drumming against your ribs. You twisted, and turned, and kicked beneath you but they didn't even budge. Their smile did, however, a toothy grin now plastered on their face. A knowing hum left their lips as they finally stopped. You didn't really want to begin deciphering whatever that meant.
"Tell this Dave of yours we have unfinished business," they began, hoisting both of you to your feet, "do get that condition checked. Xarion shall see you out and uh- stay in school... or whatever."
They awkwardly patted your head before disappearing to another room in the ship.
It was only a few minutes later, the ship had landed in a large clearing, then you heard, er, or rather felt a familiar gust of wind.
The speedster spoke. "We've been looking everywhere for you,"
"Where's Dave?"
"With li'l Mx. Empath- oh hey Xarion!"
"Salutations!"
"You're all dead to me," was all you could manage to say before being whisked back home.
"You're all red-"
"Shut it."
Dave was going to pay. Your friends had a lot of explaining to do.
I was inspired after finishing the first chapter of SBR recently and made this. For some context, the Pistols want to hear Giorno laugh... And they succeed 💝
Thanks to @supershytickles for being part of the process 👀
Joseph was quite the prankster, growing up and now, so when he grabbed at Caesar's side and noticed the almost hidden reaction, he couldn't let it slide. It had hit him that he'd never tried to tickle the blonde, even if he knew just by looking at him that he would be ticklish. All cute blonde's who were too smug for their own good had a weak spot, and he was positive that he knew Caesar's already.
*Walks out with folded hands* Ehem...I had a vision. And I went with that vision- and after so many months I finally finished it :D I love these dorks so much, your honor! Please enjoy some good ol' stardust crusaders antics!
CW: Swearing!
Summary: Polnareff and Kakyoin can't sleep. Antics ensue when they decide to make it Jotaro's problem aswell.
Cloud 9 (Taglist Peeps):
@gladdygirl18 @t-wordiiish
“Superman is only super on earth, yeah? Do you think he’s just an average joe on Planet Krypton?”
“Kakyoin.”
“Please, have you seen him? He’d be an absolute hit with the ladies back home.”
“Polnareff-”
“Yeah but what if that’s just the norm there? What if in Planet Krypton he’s considered boring or even ugly?”
“Guys-”
“You really think someone like Superman could be considered average?”
“I’m just saying- Superman to earthlings is like someone revisiting an early level in a game after making it the final few levels.”
“Would you shut the hell up!” Jotaro sat up with a glare, his eyes shooting daggers at the pair across the way. “It’s one in the fucking morning!”
“Technically it’s only 12:20 AM.” Kakyoin pointed at the clock on the wall, the face glowing softly in the dark room.
“Did we wake you? Apologies, Jojo.” Polnareff grinned from his spot across from the redhead, unfazed at the death stare he received. “All this traveling and stand fighting- it makes it hard for one to relax their mind.”
“Good Grief. Find some booze and drink until you pass out. Or go find somewhere else and play sleepover.” Jotaro grumbled as he laid back down, closing his eyes. He could understand the restlessness- there were many nights he would lay there and stare at the sky for hours- waiting to pass out from exhaustion or for morning to come.
That said- he spent those nights in silence. A simple courtesy he wished the two idiots would share.
“Wow, someone’s grumpy. It’s those moody teenage hormones, huh?” Polnareff teased, sharing a look with a smiling Kakyoin as he stood, walking over to the opposite bed. “Or is it that you’re feeling left out?”
“Neither- I want to sleep. Get out.” Jotaro glared before pulling the blanket over himself, the silent equivalent to slamming a door in someone’s face.
“Aww, don’t be like that, Jojo.” Kakyoin came over as well- crawling into the bed and flopping against the mound of blankets. “Here’s a question- do you think Star Platinum could win in a fight against Superman?”
Silence. Polnareff and Kakoyin shared an amused look.
“I know you're not asleep, Jojo. I can feel you brooding.” Kakyoin teased, tugging at the blanket gently. He received a low growl in return.
“Jojo~ Don’t be mad at us!” Polnareff climbed in on Jotaro’s opposite side, shaking the mound. “We’re your friends!”
Still nothing. Jotaro was stubborn as ever.
“He’s like a little kid- all pouty and such.” Kakyoin cooed.
“You know how we handle those kinds of guys, right Kak?” Polnareff teased with a wink.
The threat was there. Jotaro dared to peek over the blankets, making his look as scary as possible. “Touch me and you fucking die.”
“Bet?” Kakyoin grinned.
“Bet.” Polnareff agreed. Jotaro exhaled deeply.
Silence.
Then there was chaos.
“You’re not getting away!” Kakyoin yelled in glee, charging the bound of limps and blanket blindly. Jotaro was like a bull in the pit, all flailing limbs and sharp swears as he swung in every direction. “Come here, Jojo!”
“Give in! Just let it happen!” Polnareff was a mess of giggles, putting his muscular mass to use as he threw himself on top of the teen. Once there, he wrestled his wrists down until he they were pinned, straining. “I got him! I got him! Get him, Kakyoin!”
“On it!”
“Get the hell of-HMMPH!” Jotaro’s shout of anger was quickly muffled as Kakyoin dug into him through the blanket, raking his fingers up and down his sides. His squirms increased in frequency, leading to him nearly sending Polnareff flying once more. “Cut the shit! K-Kakyoin!”
“Oo, he’s feeling it now! Get him good, Kakyoin!” The knight giggled in delight as he readjusted his seat, putting maximum weight onto Jotaro and worming his fingers against his neck. “Here I come, you damn brat!”
“Not you too- get! Gehehehhahhaat!” Jotaro’s defenses melted when fingers dug into the middle set of his ribs. Not even the blanket could protect him from the ticklish feeling shooting up his nerves. “Dahahahahahm yohohohohou! Aheahhahahahaha!”
“Aww, don’t be like that, Jojo! You love us too much to say that!” Kakyoin tugged at the blanket with one hand while his other carried on tickling. Despite his current state, Jotaro was adamant on hanging on to the damn thing. “Fine then- you won’t give up the ghost, I’ll just come and take it!”
With that, he dived beneath the nearest corner of the blankets, squeezing his way towards Jotaro like an inchworm. Polnareff scooted some to give more room, preparing.
In a matter of seconds, the room was booming.
“AH! AHEHAHAHHAA YOU FUHUHUHUCKER!” Jotaro howled when his sides were grabbed once more- no blanket or shirt for that matter to protect him against Kakyoin’s claws. “GEHEHEHEHT THE HEHEHELL OHOHOHOFF! AH! NOHOHOT YOU THOOHOHOHO!” Polnareff had begun to double his efforts, worming a hand into any tickle spot within reach. “SCREHHEHEHW YOOHOHU TWOOOHOHO!”
“So mean! To your dear friends too, Jotaro!” The frenchman chided, drilling a finger into the birthmark and making him scrunch with an undignified squeal. “Take this! And that! And this and that!”
“You can’t get rid of me, Jojo!” Kakyoin laughed through his teases, clinging to the bigger boy with all his might as he scribbled into his ribs and stomach. “I’m stuck to you! Forever and ever- AH!”
Jotaro put his strength into use; twisting hard enough to send Polnareff flying. He crashed into the bundle of Kakyoin, rolling off the bed and inadvertently bringing Jotaro with them. They landed in a crash of blankets and sore limbs upon landing.
“Ow! Oohohoho my god, that hurt! Jota-ROOHOOHO!” The frenchman was about to check in with the boys when hands suddenly grabbed his waist, kneading his sides rapidly. “AHEHAHHAH WHOOHOHOHO?”
“Hehehe, tickle tickle tickle, Polnareff!” Kakyoin was truly a gremlin. “Gonna getcha good! Jojo, help me!”
Get off me, you ass!” Jotaro yelled through the chaos, wiggling free from the bodies pressing him down. Despite this, he was grinning- a new light of playfulness in his expression. “Good grief- you two are annoying. All right- I’ll help.”
“Nohoohoho! Johohootaro! Johohoohtaro EPARGI MOOHOHOHI!” Bodies crashed once more as Jotaro threw himself at the pair, tickling with all his might. Alongside Polnareff’s squeals in french, Kakyoin’s own hysterics joined the fray as he pulled and shoved at Jotaro’s hand.
“DOOHOHON’T GEHEHEHT ME, GEHEHHET POHOHOHOLNAREFF!” The redhead squealed at the top of his lungs, writhing like a worm beneath the hand squeezing the life out of his thigh. “JOHOHOHOJOHOHOHO!”
“JEHEHEHEHE DOOHOHOHNE! JEEHHEHEHE DoHOOHOHNE!” Polnareff squealed as his upper ribs were dug into, swatting and kicking through giggly hiccups. Jotaro didn’t know much French, but he could tell Polnareff was at his limit with how red he was.
Releasing them, he sat back with a crossed arm glare, watching them groan and gasp for breath. “You two done?”
“Ehehehe..hehhehe yeahhahah, whehehe’re gohoohod.” Kakyoin wheezed out, Polnareff nodding through another round of hiccups. “Dahahahng, and yohoohu didn’t eheehven use your sthahahnd!”
“Didn’t need it.” Jotaro got up, tugging his blanket out from under the redhead before climbing back into bed. “Not with how ticklish you two are. Go to bed.”
“Pardon? What does that mean, exactly Jotaro?” Polnareff leaped into the bed once more, resuming their previous position. “I’d say we gave you quite the fight tonight, non?”
“Yeah! You were squealing and everything!” Kakyoin was on his open side once more, smiling brightly at Jotaro’s heated glare. “I’d say out of all of us…”
They paused, considering.
“Yeah, okay. Fine. I’m the most ticklish.” Kakyoin finished with an eye roll. Polnareff giggled and Jotaro smirked beneath his blanket. “But your reaction is super cute, Jojo!”
“Shut up.” The brunette waved him off before pulling the blanket overhead, hiding away from their devious grins. He waited for them to move, or to attack once more. Instead, the bed shifted as they got comfortable, taking up the minimal surface space. “Don’t you two have your own beds? Sleep in them!”
“No way, yours is suddenly so comfy!” Kakyoin snuggled close, pressing his face into Jotaro’s shoulder. “I told you already, you’re stuck with me.”
“Same here, Jotaro! Get used to it!” Polnareff laughed as he dragged over extra blankets and pillows, making a sort of fort for them. “Bonne nuit.”
Kakyoin let out a sleepy “Oyasumi” in response. Before long, the pair were fast asleep- tucking Jotaro between them. The brunette sat there frozen for a few moments before rolling his eyes, a rare but genuine smile on his lips.
“Goodnight, knuckleheads.” He let himself relax for the first time this entire trip, the sounds of his friends breathing on either side of him.
Ooooh sentence starters are open? I would like to formally request
"if you want me to tickle you, ask me tickle you"
With part 2 Joseph Joestar x reader (my boyfriend gives me such P2 Joseph it is not even funny and yes that is something my boyfriend told me once before and it still flusters me to this day)
Can't wait to see what you do with it 🥰🫶🏾
AHHHH JOSEPH!!! My first Jojo husband (Before I met Bruno and then Weather Report Whoops-) He is beyond delightful! And girl you found a real life Joseph! Good for you girl- I can already tell you're happy as can be! :D (That's so freaking cute oh my god-) I've gotcha covered, friend! :D
“Hm. I see what’s going on now.”
You looked back at him curiously, the smile on his face making you feel warm. “What?”
“Don’t play coy with me, love. I see it all over you. Stretched out like a cat with your shirt ridden up, spread out in my lap.” He gestured to your supine position, your head against his thighs and your ankles crossed against the pillow you were using. “Next you’re going to say, “What, I’m just lying here. What’s wrong with that?””
“What, I’m just lying here. What’s wrong with that-hey!” You smacked him, making him laugh brightly. “Okay fine- so I’m comfortable. What’s the problem?”
“Not a problem. At least not for me.” His smile grew mischievous, making your heart skip. “If you want me to tickle you, ask me to tickle you.”
You felt your eyes widen, heat spreading from your cheeks down to your chest as you gaped at him. Damn his Joestar observation skills! “I-I don’t know what you mean!”
“You so want me to tickle you.” He teased, hand hovering over your belly but not quite touching, making you tense with anticipation. “You want me to walk my fingers all over your cute belly and sides so you’ll be giggling like crazy. You want me to count your ribs one by one until you’re laughing so hard you make me lose count. Then you want me to make you count them!”
The ghost feeling his words spread over you tickled nearly as bad as the real deal, making you giggle in your hands as you tried to hide your face. His grip was gentle as he pulled them down, green eyes sparkling with love. “J-Johohospeh!”
“Just say the word, love. Say it and I’ll give you what you want.” He winked, flicking his fingers in the air between him and your torso. It was enough to nearly send you over the edge!
“Fihihine! Ahehehe, cahhan you pleahhase tickle mehehe?” You asked, trying not to lose your voice. You felt like you were going to explode, your heart racing a mile a minute as you looked up into those gorgeous eyes of his.
“See? Now was that so hard?” He kissed you quick before grabbing your sides, making you squeal and flail beneath him. “Here I come, (Y/N)! I’m gonna tickle you! Mehehehehe!”
“Yohohohu alrehahhahdy ahahhahre! Aheahhhaha, Johoohohojohohohoho!” You cried out as he pulled you properly into his lap, doing all the things he promised while you lost yourself in laughter. “Dohohohon’t maahahke me coohohount!”
“What? Oh drat- I just lost the number! See? I told you I would need you to do it.” He put his hands at the base of your ribs, pressing in quickly and making you shriek. “Count for me, love.”
This man was a menace, but oh how you loved him so.
Send me a sentence starter and I'll write a dabble for you! :D
Summary: To ensure the team's safety on their trek to the villa, Giorno creates a small frog. But when the creature falls into the hands of Mista and Narancia, they accidentally uncover a hidden weakness in Gold Experience's ability and they aren't about to let the newbie off easily.
Lee! Giorno Giovanna
Lers! Guido Mista; Narancia Ghirga
A/N: OMG I'M SO SORRY ANON YOUR ASK GOT DELETED FOR SUM REASON! And I should probably warn y'all first that the premise of this fic isn't really canon. I stumbled upon this headcanon back around 2022, and I haven't been able to get it outta my head ever since, so I just had to write a fic about it. Basically, the headcanon is that Giorno's creations act as an extension of his Stand, meaning any physical sensation or attack inflicted on them is directly transferred back to Giorno himself. Anyway enjoy the fic Ig. Anon I'm sorry again
The sun over Capri was unforgivingly baking the cobblestone streets as the newly promoted Capo, Bruno Bucciarati, led his team away from the docks. The promotion had changed the air. They weren't just a street gang anymore; they were the guardians of the Boss’s daughter.
Fugo was walking between Mista and Narancia, mid-lecture about the geographical significance of the island, but he stopped abruptly when Bucciarati looked back.
"Fugo," Bruno called, motioning for him to come alongside him. "I need to go over the perimeter details of the villa before we arrive."
"Of course." Fugo said, adjusting his tie and hurried forward, leaving the Mista and Narancia behind.
Narancia kicked a loose pebble, his eyes drifting to Giorno. The newbie was walking a few paces ahead, his posture stiff and formal.
Then to Narancia's surprise, Giorno suddenly leaned down to pick up a small, flat stone from the edge of a flowerbed. With a golden flash from his Stand's hand, the stone changed its shape and pulsed between his fingers. In Giorno's palm sat a vibrant green tree frog, its throat swelling as it let out a soft croak. Giorno didn't look back, he simply let the frog hop toward a nearby stone wall, presumably to act as a lookout.
"Duuuude..!" Narancia hissed. He snagged the brim of Mista’s hat, hauling him down by force just so he could whisper right into his ear, "His ability is to make animals! Look at that thing!"
Mista grumbled at the yank on his hat, squinting past Narancia at the wall, then over at Giorno's back. "Yeah, I saw it. It's just a frog. We better focus on the mission…" He put on a bored act, but his eyes stayed dead-set on the little green speck right as it botched a jump against the brick and came tumbling down into the dirt.
"See? I told you it was his!" Narancia darted forward, scooping the tiny thing up in his hands before it could hop away.
"Ew, gross, why did you take it?" Mista grimaced, though he didn't pull away. "Put it back, Narancia. The newbie probably had some purpose for this thing."
"It's not gross, it's cool." Narancia whispered back, completely engrossed. He held the frog in his cupped hands, watching its golden eyes. "I wonder if it's as smart as he is."
Up ahead, Giorno’s shoulders suddenly jerked.
Narancia didn't notice. He took his pointer finger and lightly poked the frog's soft belly, and then, he began to rhythmically pet the top of its head. "Man, it even feels real..." he muttered, completely fascinated.
Giorno twitched again. This time more violently. His hand flying up to adjust the collar of his jacket as if he were suddenly losing his balance.
Mista's stride slowed. He watched Narancia poke the frog a second time, tracking the movement just in time to see Giorno's head loll slightly to the side, his pace faltering for a fraction of a second.
As the dots connected, Mista suddenly lunged, throwing his forearm around Narancia's neck in a flash of mild panic and hauling him backward into a tight, frantic huddle. "Heyheyheyhey! Narancia, look..!" he hissed under his breath.
"Ow! What the hell, Mista?!" Narancia choked out, nearly dropping the frog as he squirmed against the sudden chokehold. He threw an annoyed glare at Mista but as his eyes followed the manic direction of his nod, his irritation evaporated.
Ten feet ahead, Giorno had gone entirely rigid, his fingers twitching violently against the fabric of his trousers. Narancia's mouth fell open into a slow, wicked grin as his brain finally caught up to what Mista was implying.
"Every time you touch that thing..." Mista murmured, a slow, wicked smirk carving across his face.
"He feels it," Narancia finished for him, his voice dropping into an awed whisper.
Mista nodded "Yeah, I think his sensors are plugged straight into this frog. Whatever you do to the animal, he's catching the feedback out there."
A devious, wide grin completely took over Narancia's features. To test the theory of this incredible new discovery, he adjusted his hold on the little creature. Deliberately and carefully, he extended his index finger and dragged it along the frog's slick green side in one long feather-light stroke.
Up ahead, the results were instantaneous.
Giorno's entire spine snapped perfectly straight, his shoulders hitching violently as if a current of pure electricity had just been shot through his body. A strangled sound escaped his throat. Blinded by the sudden, overwhelming wave of sensations, his foot caught the uneven edge of the cobblestones, sending him stumbling sideways. He barely managed to throw his hands out in time, narrowly avoiding a collision with a rusty iron lamppost. He clamped his fingers onto the metal pole instead, clinging to it as he proceeded just what on earth was that..
Narancia had to shove his own fist into his mouth to suffocate the explosive laugh bubbling up in his chest. He wheezed in a desperate, breathy whisper, tears prickling the corners of his eyes as he cradled the unbothered frog tightly against his chest, making sure not to stroke it again. "Oh my, this is too good. This is the best day of my life."
"Shh, keep it down! He's still close enough to hear us!" Mista hissed, though he was doing a terrible job of hiding his own face behind his hand, his shoulders shaking with silent, hysterical giggles. He glanced up at Giorno, who was now stiffly dusting off his suit jacket. "Man, this rookie's tough. Don't touch that thing again out here, save it for later. We're gonna have so much fun at the house."
–––
The Villa San Giovanni was blissfully quiet, insulated from the ambient hum of the Capri streets and the oppressive, heavy glare of the midday sun. Near the open windowsill, Fugo was focused on organizing a stack of maps and documents, though his attention kept fracturing. For the fifth time in ten minutes, his gaze flicked suspiciously over to the sofa.
Giorno was sitting there, his posture entirely collapsed. He had his face buried deeply in one hand, his fingers clamped over his mouth with a white knuckled grip that looked almost painful. His other arm was wrapped tightly around his abdomen for an unknown reason. With his eyes squeezed shut, his entire frame was trembling with a silent, rhythmic shaking that he was clearly fighting with every ounce of his remaining willpower.
Fugo let out a heavy sigh at the sight. This was his third time trying to get through to the newcomer, his frown deepening into a line of genuine concern. "Giorno? Seriously, are you alright?" he asked again, crossing his arms. "You’ve been acting strange ever since we stepped off the trail. If you're coming down with something, just say it. Is there anything I can do for you?"
"I am... fine, Fugo," Giorno managed to choke out. His voice was strained, a few octaves higher than his usual calm, low register. "I just...g-got a cramp. It will pass any minute now..."
Fugo shook his head, thoroughly unconvinced. A different excuse every single time. Well, if the rookie insisted on keeping his illness a secret, then fine, so be it. Fugo was already getting tired of his mysterious nature anyway.
High above the safehouse floor, hidden away in the shadows of the wooden ladder leading to the loft, Mista and Narancia were curled up together like two kids up to no good. Narancia held a thin, delicate straw of grass, brushing the tip of it along the tiny green frog perched on his knee with delicate precision.
Both boys had their faces buried deep into their collars, desperately trying to muffle the hysterical giggles that threatened to echo through the rafters. Watching Passione’s most stoic, untouchable rookie completely unravel across the room was easily the best entertainment they'd had all week.
Suddenly, the frog scrambled. The creature had been sitting perfectly still, but its tiny muscles coiled with sudden tension as it picked up on its creator's frantic call. With a desperate leap, it launched itself off Narancia's kneecap right toward the open edge of the loft railing.
"Whoa! It’s making a break for it!" Narancia hissed, lunging forward, but his fingertips missed the slick green skin by a hair. The frog plummeted into freefall toward the hard floor below until another hand snapped out of the shadows, snatching it cleanly out mid-air with the grace of a seasoned gunslinger.
Mista opened his palm, looking down at the creature. It was squirming with a sudden, unnatural intensity, its little legs kicking frantically against his hand, trying to break free from an unyielding grip.
"Look at that," Mista whispered, his eyes widening as he adjusted his hold. "It’s trying to hop away. Giorno's pulling it back to him."
"Wait, Giorno can actually control it from all the way over there?" Narancia asked, leaning heavily over Mista’s shoulder to watch the tiny struggle.
"Looks like it," Mista muttered, watching the frantic kicking. "I wonder why he doesn't just turn it back into pebble. He should be able to do that from anywhere, no?" He closed his fingers into a loose, warm cage around the frog, feeling the rapid, terrified vibration of its tiny heart against his palm. "If he’s trying this hard to pull it back, then it means he really doesn't want us playing with it. Which means..."
A wicked glint flashed in Mista's eyes as his gaze traveled up to the dried blade of grass Narancia was still clutching.
"Gimme that," Mista grinned, snatching the grass from his partner's hand. "If the boy wants his frog back, he’s gonna have to earn it."
Down on the sofa, Giorno felt the physical shift instantly. The phantom sensation of open air vanished, replaced by a suffocating warmth enveloping his creation. It’s trapped, he realized, his heart hammering violently against his ribs. Where did it even wander off to? I was certain I gave it a slow enough metabolism so it wouldn't hop too far away.
Panic flaring, he began to call upon Gold Experience to forcefully unmake the creature from a distance. But before his Stand could even manifest, a sensation from earlier struck his flanks all over again.
Mista had begun to work with clinical precision. He teasingly dragged the serrated edge of the grass in long and slow strokes along the frog's sensitive, or rather Giorno's sensitive flanks.
Giorno's back arched up involuntarily. A sharp, gasping breath escaped him and he bit his lip so hard it bled, desperate to keep himself quiet. Then suddenly Giorno heard a familiar, muffled giggle echoing from the high rafters. Mista and Narancia…
He tried once more to mentally retract the frog since now he knew its location but Mista caught the internal tug. Countering it instantly, the gunman began swirling the grass in a rapid, frantic circle right against the frog’s belly.
"A-ah—!" A choked, high-pitched gasp tore past Giorno's teeth before he could stop it. The sensory overload was overwhelming. Giorno's legendary composure shattered into pieces. Every single time he tried to focus his mind to cancel the ability, the ticklish sensation would spike, sending a jolt of electricity through his nerves that forced his concentration to break. I can't—I can't focus—!
Up in the shadows, Narancia couldn't contain himself anymore. Seeing Giorno squirming like a landed fish on the sofa below was too much temptation. "Move over, let me do it!" he whispered frantically, nudging Mista aside. Narancia didn't even bother with the grass. He used his own fingers, wiggling his fingertips in a fast, relentless motion right under the frog's tiny armpits and down its sides.
Down on the couch, the double-pronged assault completely wrecked Giorno. He collapsed sideways onto the cushions, his legs curling up toward his chest as the agonizingly sharp, ticklish friction multiplied tenfold.
"N-Narancia! Mista, e-enoHOugh—!" Giorno wheezed out, his voice completely broken, dissolving into a breathless, desperate burst of suppressed laughter that he tried to smother against the leather. He slammed his fist hard against the couch, once, twice, a bang of pure frustration and helpless agony as his body betrayed him. He couldn't breathe, his lungs burned as the invisible fingers danced across his ribs.
Narancia’s hands froze dead in the air, the laughter completely dying in his throat. He strained his ears, his head tilting toward the main area below. He had caught his own name echoing from the other side of the safehouse. Mista paused too, lowering the blade of grass, both of them instantly switching into a dead silent listening mode.
Downstairs, Bruno Bucciarati's calm, authoritative voice carried up from the kitchen doorway, speaking directly to Fugo. "We need to restock our supplies. Fugo, we are sending Narancia to do the shopping."
Fugo’s response was immediate and thick with disbelief. "Narancia? Bucciarati, you can't be serious. He's way too reckless to handle this alone right now. If he slips up, he could expose us, put the whole team in jeopardy and more importantly, he could put the boss's daughter in direct danger! Why not let *me* go instead?"
"No," Bucciarati replied firmly. "Narancia is the only one who should go. His Stand ability is uniquely suited for this. If anyone tries to follow him from the market, Aerosmith will detect and track them instantly. He is the best choice to ensure no one leaves a tail."
Up on the loft landing, Narancia’s eyes went completely round. A massive, thrilled grin split across his face. Bruno, Bruno Bucciarati himself had explicitly chosen him for a mission based on his skill. Hyped up on pure validation, Narancia completely forgot about the prank. He scrambled to his feet, hopped off the loft landing, and practically flew toward the stairs to meet them, carelessly dropping the little green frog that had been sitting on his knee.
"Whoa—hey!" Mista hissed, lunging forward to catch the falling creature before it hit the floor below. But his fingers never made the contact. Mid-fall, with a faint clink, the tiny green frog vanished, reverting back into its original form. A harmless, ordinary grey pebble dropped onto the wooden steps and rolled down the stairs.
Down on the sofa, the suffocating wave of phantom sensations vanished. Giorno slumped heavily against the leather cushions, completely exhausted and catching his breath in long, ragged drafts. His trembling hand, which he had raised in a desperate final attempt to focus his willpower on the frog, dropped limply over the edge of the couch.
He stared blankly at the ceiling, letting out a faint, tired sigh. "Finally..." he muttered under his breath, his chest still heaving.
In the background, Fugo's sharp, lecturing voice was already echoing from the kitchen as Narancia bounded in. "Narancia, listen carefully. This is the list of food and other things you need to buy, and these are the keys to the car. If you lose either of them, I swear to God..."
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