⧼Steven⧽

𝑺𝒆𝒅𝒖𝒄𝒆 𝒂𝒏𝒅 𝑫𝒆𝒔𝒕𝒓𝒐𝒚.

[sxcst3ve1]

SHOW ME YOUR FANGS

Steven | 𝘏𝘦/𝘏𝘪𝘮 | m!reader blog

Hello all! Welcome welcome, My name's Steven and I'm a relatively new fanfic writer, but I've been writing for years (poetry and shit.) Mostly posting here for fun, but also to hone my skills.

»𝙏𝙝𝙞𝙨 𝙞𝙨 𝙖 𝙢!𝙧𝙚𝙖𝙙𝙚𝙧/𝙢𝙡𝙢 𝙘𝙚𝙣𝙩𝙧𝙞𝙘 𝙗𝙡𝙤𝙜, 𝙬𝙝𝙞𝙘𝙝 𝙬𝙞𝙡𝙡 𝙘𝙤𝙣𝙩𝙖𝙞𝙣 𝙣𝙨𝙛𝙬 𝙖𝙣𝙙 𝙨𝙛𝙬 𝙘𝙤𝙣𝙩𝙚𝙣t«

NAVIGATION:

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✙ A03

✙ Masterlist

»𝙄 𝙙𝙤 𝙣𝙤𝙩 𝙘𝙤𝙣𝙙𝙤𝙣𝙚 𝙩𝙝𝙚 𝙪𝙨𝙚 𝙤𝙛 𝘼𝙄 𝙪𝙣𝙙𝙚𝙧 𝙖𝙣𝙮 𝙘𝙞𝙧𝙘𝙪𝙢𝙨𝙩𝙖𝙣𝙘𝙚𝙨, 𝙖𝙣𝙙 𝙄 𝙙𝙤 𝙣𝙤𝙩 𝙥𝙚𝙧𝙢𝙞𝙩 𝙢𝙮 𝙬𝙤𝙧𝙠𝙨 𝙩𝙤 𝙗𝙚 𝙪𝙨𝙚𝙙 𝙛𝙤𝙧 𝘼𝙄 𝙩𝙧𝙖𝙞𝙣𝙞𝙣𝙜 𝙞𝙣 𝙖𝙣𝙮 𝙘𝙖𝙥𝙖𝙘𝙞𝙩𝙮.«

Divider credits: @pixopix

[sxcst3ve1]

HANDS ON ME

Pairing: Guido Mista x m!reader

Synopsis: The exciting anticipation of the weekend is something nearly everyone can relate to, especially considering your predicament. After being slighted by your ex-boyfriend, your friends convince you to go to the club as a way to get him off your mind. It's just your luck when you spot a cute stranger to distract you from alll the heartbreak.

Content: [SMUT] Vers Mista, 'Top' Reader, (Switch Implications for both), Canon Divergent, Alternating POV (briefly) Alt. Colors Mista, Cub Mista (hairy/a bit chubby. Sue me.), Mista is mixed race, And has so much swagger hello, Everyone is at least 20, Club Setting, First Meeting, Flirting, Lots of dancing, Grinding, Dry Humping, Nipple Stimulation, Coming Untouched, Ass grabbing, Coming Prematurely, Morals? What Morals?

WC: 9.2k

a/n: I listened to a shit ton of 2000's music while writing this, I encourage you do the same LMAO. Ik it took me forever to finish this, so sorry! Also somehow this ended up being nearly as long as the Bruno fic so...Hope you enjoy <3

The overhead flash of neon pinks and greens, blues and oranges, throws a horde of people into a frenzy on the dance floor, the already heavy bass of the music amplified by their unified jumping. Strobe lights scan the crowd geometrically in intervals, blinding at times, but somehow only encourages everyone to get a little wilder in their movements. The crowd swarms with an intense energy, arms and necks being tossed every-which-way, distracting them from what was meant to be a discomforting warmth in the air, and the stickiness of sweat across their skin.  

In the center of all this, Mista shouts the lyrics of the chorus with what little breath he has left, his calves aching each time he springs up with the rhythm. He holds onto his hat for dear life and tries his hardest not to elbowanyone in the face, successful only 60% of the time. Not like he could hear their complaints over the music anyways, so technically he couldn’t get in trouble, right?  

Life never felt so easy as it did when Mista was at the club. Of all the simple pleasures he’d come across in his life, this one was undoubtedly his favorite. Absorbing concerning amounts of alcohol, meeting awesome strangers, and being able to move his body in any way his mind desired? It’s an experience that just can’t be replicated. So, he took it upon himself after each boring, under-stimulating work week to hit up the best underground club in Naples: Il Seminterrato.  

He was essentially a regular at this point, considering the DJ, bartenders, and owners knew his name and face. It earned him nothing more than a few drinks on the house every other weekend, and they’ve even stopped asking for his ID at the door, granting him quicker access. He couldn’t find it in himself to feel guilty about it even though he probably should; who wouldn’t want benefits like that? If it meant he could get on the floor faster, then who gives a damn?  

Mista opens his eyes and tilts his head to the ceiling, smiling to himself as the colors swirl and twinkle above him. Tonight felt...particularly exciting. He couldn’t explain why: maybe he’d had a little bit too much to drink already, or perhaps that monthly horoscope he’d read in the papers had been right after all—whatever it was, he knew for sure he wanted that feeling to last as long as possible.  

“Hey, you’re hot! Wanna dance?”  

A voice shouts at him from over his shoulder, startling him out of his thoughts. He snaps his head around, the stranger respectfully hovering behind him. The guy looked to be a few years older, but the flicks of glow-in-the-dark paint he had splattered on his face made it clear he was still in Mista’s ideal range. Regardless, he was pretty cute, so... 

“Hell yeah!”  

Mista backs up into the man's arms, allowing them to strap around his waist as they both continued to move with the music. Best to take what he could get.

 Recently, it felt like he was getting less and less action, but he couldn’t think of one reason why. He was as handsome as always, hype, friendly, all the things that magnetize people...yet the most he could get out of anyone was a brief kiss. Perhaps it’s because his taxi fare was $14.44 a few weeks ago...yeah, definitely that. Either way, he was sure this would finally be the night that he left the building with something more than a raging headache and sore feet.

With a deep sigh, you take a seat on the first open bar stool you can find, propping your elbows up on the counter and digging the heels of your palms into your eyes. A comforting—though it feels patronizing—hand lightly rubs your back, 

“Come on, you can’t start sulking now that we’ve finally made it here. That would put all my efforts to shame!” Your friend speaks into your ear, sounding a bit disheartened.  

You shake your head and wave him off, “Bruno please, I’m not sulking, I'm just...adjusting.”  

Your lie doesn’t seem to bode well with man, and his gentle rub turns into a ruthless pinch.  

“Ow-what the hell!” You turn around to glare at him, reaching back to soothe the pain.  

Bruno only smiles at you, placing his clutch in the hands of the man behind him before taking the stool beside you. “Don’t even, I can see it all over your damn face." 

“Jesus, Leone, could you please tell this prick to keep his hands to himself?” You complain to the tall man still standing, but the shrug he gives you is telling of who’s side he’s on.  

“Can’t. He’s right, you need to get outta your head.”  

“Sell out..” You say under your breath, placing your hand in your chin.  

“See? We’ve got to get you back to how you were in the cab. And I know just the trick..” Bruno doesn’t wait for your response as he reaches out to flag down the bartender, a young woman, who approaches with a friendly smile.  

“Hey ya’ll, what can I get ya?”  

“A round of tequila shots, please.”  

“You got it, boss.”  

Bruno tries to ignore the look you’re blatantly giving him by pretending to fix his shirt, as if the entire club couldn’t see his tits enough already.  

“Seriously? Are you trying to get me to make a fool of myself?” You tut, nudging him with your elbow. The last time you had too much tequila in your system, things had gotten a little...depraved.  

Bruno laughs, “Kind of, yes. This is the fastest way to get that stick out of your ass.”  

“I don’t have a ‘stick up my ass’, I’m reacting like how anyone else would if they’d just gotten dumped!”  

“You knew the guy was a piece of shit, you should’ve expected it at some point.” Leone chimes in, draping his arms over Bruno’s shoulders and resting his chin on his head.  

You roll your eyes. “He wasn’t that bad. I mean, sure he had a few quirks, but-” 

“Remember that time he ‘borrowed’ your car without asking to meet up with some ‘friends’ downtown?” He interrupts. Your face sours at the memory.  

“Oh right, and it turned out they’d gone to a strip club?” Bruno adds.  

“Not to mention him never paying for dinner and refusing to take photos with you-”  

“Okay, I get it, he was shady!” You groan, putting a fist to your forehead. “..You don’t gotta be so blunt about it.”  

Three short glasses are slid across the bar counter landing in a nice little cluster in front of you, their rims decorated with salt and a slice of lime. You all thank the bartender in unison, each of you grabbing the glass of your choosing.  

Staring down into the clear liquid, you feel your lips pull into a frown. As annoying as they were being about it, your friends are right about your ex. You’d met the man eight months ago by what felt like a miracle, considering your romantic life had been drier than a desert prior to his arrival. It started as a one-night-stand (which should’ve been your first sign), but he insisted on seeing you again multiple times afterwards. A few solid dates later, you’d developed a charming relationship, though it only stayed that way for a month or so. Upon first meeting him, your closest friends Leone and Bruno were skeptical of the guy’s intentions, but you brushed it off as them being overly protective.  

You had so easily gotten caught up in the excitement of having a boyfriend that you neglected all his distasteful tendencies; how he wouldn’t hold your hand or kiss you in public, the way he’d coincidentally run out of cash right after you’d already given him some...But oh, he gave the sweetest compliments, and in the comfort of your home, he treated you with such tenderness.. 

‘That bastard is going to bleed you dry.’ 

Leone had said in his usual aggravation. For whatever reason, you still held on to hope that the man would change, with a little pleading here and there...but it always fell on deaf ears. On Wednesday, it all came crashing down, and it was revealed that he had been seeing other men behind your back, an admission that had apparently only been a surprise to you. But without even getting a chance to discuss the matter, the man broke up with you on the spot, claiming he ‘had other clientele to tend to.’ You’d never felt so dejected in your life. Just like that, more than half a year of your time had gone to waste.  

“Shady doesn’t even cover it. He was a sleaze, and I should’ve decked him when I had the chance.” Leone’s gruff voice brings you back to the present.  

You huff, “Yeah, maybe...”  

With his free hand, Bruno presses his hand to your cheek, your gaze lifting to him. “Enough about that. We’re here to get him off your mind, not for you to ruminate.” The smile he gives is genuine, and it makes the tension in your chest ease up a little. He raises his shot glass between the two of you, “We’ve got more important business right now!”  

You respond with a softer smile, lifting yours as well. “-Okay, okay..cheers.”  

“Bottoms up, bitch.” Leone is the last to slot his glass into the circle, each of you laughing as you clink your shots together, lick the salt from the rim, and toss the liquid back. 

The tequila goes down without a fight, sparking your nerves with a thrill that you know will come to haunt you sooner rather than later. Before you can even set your glass down, Bruno is already ordering another round, nodding his head to the music which seems to grow louder by the second. Within what feel like mere minutes, the three of you are four shots in, and you even take it upon yourself to try one of the special edition cocktails they were selling for this week's event. It’s more fruity syrups than it is alcohol, but the little ball of flashing light at the bottom and the edible glitter inside of it makes up for the taste.  

Bruno gets his fingers around your straw when you glance away for the briefest second, giggling as he keeps the drink just out of your reach so that he can take a few sips of his own.  

“Hmmm...more tart than I expected it to be.” He sighs. “Not half bad though. Maybe I should get one of my own..”  

You smile and shake your head, reclaiming the glass. “I think you should time-out for a bit. The night is young, no need to rush the buzz.”   

“Not to mention you’ve already bitten off more than you can usually chew..” Leone comments with a smirk, leaving a glowing purple stain on the others cheek as he kisses him.  

Bruno folds his arms defensively, but his lips still have a small curve to them as he turns around to face his partner. “You drink like a sailor, and no one bats an eye.”  

“That’s ‘cause I can handle myself afterwards. You on the other hand..”  

“-Lightweight-” You cough into your fist.  

“Oh, whatever! I can ‘handle’ myself perfectly fine...besides, even if I can’t, Leone always knows the perfect way to tame me..”  

Bruno’s words are somewhat proven by the way Leone’s arm remains hooked around his waist, and he complies willingly when Bruno leans his head back for a kiss.  

“Uhmm, gross?” Your face twists in playful disgust at the display.  

“Envy is not a good look on you.” Bruno chuckles, crossing one of his legs over the other. Leone remains close, kissing the man's temple and some parts of his neck, leaving him covered in lipstick.  

“I’m just saying, have some decency. Your lap dog looks just about ready to dive his hands beneath your skirt at a moment's notice.” You grumble, taking another gulp of your drink.  

He shrugs, “Well, no one’s telling you to watch.”  

You furrow your brows, glancing away quickly. “My God, I hate you.”  

Bruno’s hands shoot out to grab your sleeve, tugging as he laughs. His drunken smile is way too cute, impossible to stay mad at. “Hey, hey, I’m kiddingg-! You know I’d never...especially not in a place like this.”  

“Yeah, whatever..”  

He purses his lips, dissatisfied with your conceding response. He ponders for a moment, glancing back at the dance floor before giving your arm another tug. “Look.. how about we do some cruising?”  

Your mouth dives into a frown around your straw at his suggestion. “...you can’t be serious.”  

“Do I look as though I’m joking?”  

...Indeed, Bruno has a rather resolute expression on his face, his brows firmly set, eyes just wide enough to show his conviction.  

“You know the saying; the best way to get over one is to get under another, mm?”  

He had a way of getting what he wanted out of anyone, stranger or not. Fortunately for him, you weren’t in the mood to argue. You draw in a deep breath, wedging your thumb into your forehead before sitting up straight, and turning fully towards him.  

“Okay, fine. But I’m making you two do all the work for me.”  

“Oh, trust me, you’re in great hands.” Bruno winks, shifting on his stool until he’s facing the bustling crowd, prompting you to do the same. He narrows his eyes and taps his chin as he looks over all the potential contenders. Leone follows suit, shielding his eyes from the lights and covering whatever ground Bruno doesn’t.  

At the very least, you were grateful that they were trying their best to keep you in high spirits. It wasn’t their job to do so, and they very well could have let you third wheel for the entire night, but instead they’re doing...this. It feels nice, knowing that you can always rely on them.  

“Ouu...what about him? Hot pink pumps, to your right.” Bruno points, guiding your attention.  

The character in question was almost half-naked, wearing what looked like a bright green bikini set that was definitely too small for him, paired with lacy pink thigh-high tights that matched his shoes. He has light purple hair cut asymmetrically, and some futuristic looking visor over his eyes. You tilt your head, looking him up and down, briefly considering. If nothing else, he sure did have a nice pair of legs.  

“...Cute, but he’s giving me a strange vibe.”  

Bruno rolls his eyes. “How can you catch a ‘vibe’ from all the way over here? Ridiculous.”  

As if overhearing your conversation, the stranger ends up locking eyes with you, a smirk appearing on his face before he licks his lips predatorily.  

You shiver. “Nope, it’s totally there. Next.”  

Bruno sighs, but dutifully returns to his surveying. “Okay, then...how about blondie over there?” 

The next man put under your curious gazes is deliciously tall with pale blonde hair scaling his back that sways as he moves, sporting a tight red jumpsuit and a variety of glowsticks around his wrists. 

“He’s pretty.” Bruno adds, looking for your approval. “You like pretty boys, don't you??”  

You rub your hand against your jaw. There was a slight hitch in this particular selection. “Sure, I do but..I don’t think he’s up for grabs.”  

Turning his head back to the man, Bruno grimaces at the downright murderous glare that another patron is giving the three of you; some red head with a snarl sharp enough to make a baby sob at first sight. The possessive type,you presume.  

“Talk about intense...Guess a threesome’s off the table then?”  

“Jesus, Bruno-”  

Your friend holds his hands up in surrender before folding them in his lap. “Just looking at all sides of the coin here, alright? I’m not letting you leave this place without at least one worthwhile interaction.”  

You massage the bridge of your nose between your fingers, speaking wearily, “Okay sure..but I think we need to step out of the box a little. Trying to shoot for my type is obviously getting us nowhere-”  

“How about him?”  

Leone’s voice breaks through your haphazard strategizing, causing both you and Bruno to look at him in mild shock. For what it was worth, it seemed he’d actually taken his time seeking someone out, but you still brace yourself for another failed suggestion. Once again, your eyes follow the direction of his pointed finger out towards the thrashing bodies, landing on- 

..Huh.  

Well, it certainly wasn’t what you were expecting, but maybe that was a good thing. You lean back against the bar top, brow lifted with intrigue. A wildly energetic man dances at the center of the floor, wearing a purple crop top with indigo trim, cross hatched with white stripes to create wide diamond shapes. The sleeves have been cut off, allowing him to show off his strong arms, and the glow-in-the-dark tiger stripes that he’s painted on them. As for his pants..well, they’re basically nonexistent: the white shorts have that same tiger pattern but in black, cut so high above his thighs that if he jumps too high, his ass cheeks might poke out. Really, it leaves absolutely nothing to the imagination.  

You’re momentarily confused as to why he’s wearing a hat in the club, especially since he’s practically in the ‘eye of the storm’ so to speak, but at the same time it feels like his outfit wouldn’t be complete without it. You track his face as he twirls around, subconsciously wondering what his eyes might look like beneath those shades he’s wearing.  

“Well? Thoughts?” Leone is already smirking in accomplishment, looping his arm around Bruno’s neck, who speaks up before you can.  

“’Looks a bit rough around the edges. A little trashy, even.” His words sound judgmental, but his expression seems admiring.   

You hold your chin in your hand, lips pulled askew. “Dunno..trashy isn’t always bad. He’s definitely an attention grabber.”  

“That’s true..” Bruno hums in agreement, leaning forward with his elbows on his knee. “If you haven’t got any gripes about him, then you should go for it. Don’t let me stop you.”  

You suck your teeth, fingers clenching into a fist. Suddenly, the prospect of approaching the attractive stranger was making your stomach twist. It’s not like you didn’t know how to put the moves on a guy when you wanted to, but you feel like you don’t have your usual spark. On top of that, you’re not sure if you could handle the possible rejection with the state you’re in now. Leone side-eyes you, noticing the confliction in your frown. He raises his hand from around Bruno to tap your shoulder, speaking clearly,  

“Hey. Think about it; you’ve really got nothing to lose. If he isn’t interested? Fine, we’ll find someone else. Don’t get yourself down in the dumps before you’ve given it a chance.”  

More than hating that he was being entirely reasonable, you hated that the statement was actually giving you courage. Despite this smidge of motivation, you felt glued to your seat, like you couldn’t take the first step of your own volition.  

“..I don’t know..maybe I should just wait and see if he notices me staring first..”  

“What, so then he can pin you as a creep? Besides, he’s too busy dancing to notice anything but his own two feet.” Bruno notes.  

“Okay, fair but-!”  

“Oh my god, get the hell up!” Leone hits your shoulder with more force, causing your body to jerk and scramble away in such a way that gets you right out of your stool. Bruno doesn’t let you sit back down either, pushing you gently towards the crowd.  

“Wait-I’m not ready!”  

“And you never will be. Just be yourself, and all will be fine! We’ll be right here if you need us.” 

With a final shove, you’re separated from your friends, left only to look back at their satisfied smiles as you get sucked into the whirlwind that is the dance floor. You want to shake your fists vigorously at them, give them a piece of your mind, but decide it's better if you don’t embarrass yourself in front of literally everyone. Your best bet is to try blending in; you begin side-stepping and jouncing your shoulders to the music, nervously shiftingyourself in the direction of your ‘target.’ For a moment, you lose sight of him, perks of getting bumped into every few seconds, sending you into just the slightest panic that totally doesn’t have your palms sweating, and the word ‘bail’ echoing in your head..  

But the Universe, of course, wouldn’t let you get away so easily. Your back smacks into that of another dancer, but as you turn to apologize for getting in their way.. 

“Argh- My bad, didn’t see ya’ there!”  

... 

He’s certainly hotter up close.  

Your tongue falls flat, whatever statement you’d been trying to make slipping away in an instant. Upon seeing what must be your dumbfounded expression, the man doesn’t turn away, instead continuing to dance as he looks you up and down. As if to get a better look, he lowers his glowing shutter glasses.  

“..’You good, man?” He asks with a questioning smirk, speaking loudly over the music.  

You try to swallow down all the excuses coming to mind, recounting Leone’s words. “Yeah-yeah I’m fine. Sorry for fucking up your flow.” You laugh, the sound awkwardly quiet and forced.  

“Eh, no sweat. When you’re a professional like me, it’s easy to catch the beat.” He pushes his glasses back up, a wider smile on his face.  

You raise a brow “Professional? For real? Impressive.”  

He chuckles like you’d said something stupid. “Hell, I wish. I do think I’ve got some killer moves though.”  

You feel a little relief. This guy was making things easy for you...he’s talkative, not afraid to brag a little. Good..as long as he isn’t the quiet type, you’ve got a bit of wiggle room.  

Realizing you’ve been standing practically still since he began speaking to you, you start dancing as well. “Yeah, I think so too. Been watching for a minute...honestly I’m surprised your legs are still intact.” 

“Watching you say? Well, then you should know I’ve taken enough shots to keep my system running for the next 48 hours, eh?”  

You smile, knowing you were somewhat in the same boat. “Sounds about right.” An idea comes to you then, the tiniest opening that you’d be damned to not exploit. “..Mind if I join you? I’ve got quite a bit of energy to spare myself.” 

Bruno would be so proud if he could hear you now.  

The stranger smirks, glancing around. “Considering my other partner ditched me...I don’t think I’d mind one bit.”  

You breathe out, anxiety fading away. So long as you don’t make an ass of yourself here, this might actually work. You unbutton the cuffs of your sleeves, rolling them up to your elbows for some better range of motion, trying to really get into the groove. Just as they’re exposed, he takes hold of one of your wrists, strapping one of his neon bracelets around it.  

You raise your brow at him. “-What’s this for?”  

“So I don’t lose sight of you, of course. This place’s like a death trap if you ain’t careful.”  

“Ah..” It felt more like he’d laid claim on you, but you shake that thought from your head quickly, smiling down at the little band. “Thanks..and uh-probably should’ve asked this first but, what’s your name?”  

“It’s Mista!” He replies excitedly, as if you’d been the only one to ask the entire night. “Or Guido, if you wanna get formal. Either’s fine with me!”  

Your smile grows a little. “Nice to meet you, Mista.”  

“Yeah, you too, cutie!”  

Probably too drunk to realize, Mista never reciprocates the question, which should worry you..but hearing him call you cute was enough to satisfy you for the moment.  

You work up a sweat trying to keep up with Mista’s sporadic and carefree movements, all in the hopes of not losing his interest. He’s like an animal, really, moving on pure instinct, which you find to be eerily attractive.  

“God, sometimes I feel like Timberlake just gets me, yknow?” He shouts, linking his arm over your shoulder.  

You chuckle and nod, “You’ve certainly got that playboy attitude down pact.”  

“Think so? I’ve been workin’ on it, honest.” Mista leans his head against yours.  

“Mm..you’re a natural, baby.” You fumble the last word, cheeks warm with caution. 

But Mista seems flattered regardless, smirking and leaning his weight further into you. “Seems you ain’t so bad yourself.”  

He pulls away, grabbing at your hands and curling his fingers around yours so that you both move in unison, back to dancing like nothing had happened. You’re partially grateful, as he makes it easy for you to brush off your mistake, but you mentally remind yourself that you’ve got to step up your game at some point.  

The DJ continues to play what could be a miles long list of different music artists, throwing some EDM in the mix with the usual Pop hits and a few classics from the late 80’s to give everyone a bit of what they wanted, a true melting pot. Though, everything has been so high tempo, you feel like you haven’t had a real chance to catch your breath...and anyone with a brain knows that asphyxiation and inebriation are not usually a good combination. You consider stepping off the floor for a minute, just to get some fresh air, maybe even catch up with Leo and Bruno, but you also really don’t want to leave Mista’s side. He’s so captivating; it’d almost be a disservice to take your eyes off of him for even a second.  

Almost as if smelling your dilemma in the air, the DJ finally decides to play something slower. Not just slow, but awfully sensual as well. The overhead lights dim down to a stable blood orange, no longer flashing, but instead revolving over the crowd like a wave. The energy in the room doesn’t exactly die down, but its charge becomes a lot more...intimate. If everyone was close before, they were definitely a lot closer now; people grabbing hold of their lovers and friends alike, committing to more fluid and alluring movements.  

You find out very quickly that Mista is no exception to this sudden change. No, in fact, he was made for it. He eases himself out of your grasp, his previous motions going down to his hips, arms moving to frame a perfect perimeter of space around himself. Shit, maybe he really is a professional. Your eyes flick down to those shorts again when he turns around, and you tug at your shirt collar when you’re face to face with an ass that sits a little too nicely. You’d be a moron to let him get away from you now.  

You toss your apprehension somewhere off to the side, sliding up behind the man and gently slipping your fingers into his beltloops. Mista doesn’t flinch not one bit, but he does glance over his shoulder with a small smirk, as if waiting to see what you’ll do next...as if he knows what he’s doing to you. You huff a small laugh at the thought, pulling him towards you until your chest meets his back, hips meet his ass, before you’re swaying in sync again.  

“Knew you had it in ya’.” Mista quips, reaching behind to grab one of your hands and place it against his waist.  

“You were waiting on..me?”  

“Duh? You’ve been gawking at me all night, no way you were gonna step-off from an opportunity like this.”  

You should be ashamed by his observation, but it’s hilarious in it’s own way. “Fair. But you’re intimidating..can’t blame me for being a little hesitant.”  

Mista lays his head back on your shoulder, only to show you the way he screws his face up at your comment. “Intimidating? What’s there to be scared of, I’m just livin' it up here.”  

You shake your head, “You’ve just got a certain..aura, I guess. Like you’re untouchable. It’s even more intense up close like this..”  

His expression fades into something more pleased. “You’ve got a funny way of complimenting people.”  

You trail your fingers against his side, shrugging lightly. “I could stop, if you’d like.”  

Mista grins, “Bastard, don’t you dare. You’re like, the only guy who’s stayed with me tonight. I’ll take whatever I can get.”  

The admission makes you frown a bit, “I remember you mentioning that earlier...what’s up with that?”  

He waves it off, facing forward again. “Hell if I know. Most only stuck around for a friendly interaction, or a little making out..”  

Listening to him, you feel a little guilty, knowing you too had approached him for the idea of getting a quick lay. Worse that you were doing it to get over your ex. But...it didn’t have to stay that way. You did have some genuine interest in the guy.  

“That’s awful.”  

“Eh, I’m already over it. I’ve got better company now..” Mista chuckles to himself, raising his finger to trace along your jaw. He hums as he watches you lean into it.  

God damn it. Maybe it was the alcohol that was making you so easy, or just your overall exhaustion from dancing but...you’re hooked on his every move. He begins to roll his body back against yours in time with the music, sending a jolt through your core.  

“Glad I could be of service, then.” You mumble, moving your hands down to his hips and giving them a small squeeze. “Feels like I just got lucky, though..” 

“Aye, what’s so wrong with that? You should be over the moon if Lady Luck is on your side!”  

“..Huh?” 

“I’m sayin’ you should be grateful for luck’s grace. She doesn’t show up for just anyone, so that means you must hold good fortune..”   

The tone he takes with you is genuine, and you blink a little at his adamance, trying to think of something to steer the conversation back in the right direction. “..Uh..yeah, you’re right. Not every day I get my hands on a guy ashot as you.”  

“Yeah?” Mista’s smile returns, a hint of mischief in it. “I’d bet not, perv.”  

If it was meant to be an insult, it has the opposite effect, a slight tingle spreading along your palms. “..Have I gotten too-”  

“Nah..” He cuts you off, bringing his hand to your cheek to turn your face to his. “..I don’t mind. Touch as much as you wanna.”  

Your jaw drops pathetically, some dormant urge suddenly awakening within you. Trying to save face, you pull your bottom lip between your teeth, brows drawn together as you stare at him. “I am like..painfully into you.”  

He laughs, tilting his head to the side. “Are you? Can’t tell with the way your hands are trembling, like you’re scared or somethin’.”  

You hadn’t noticed it at first, but his mention of it brings you to a shameful awareness. Indeed, your fingers shake lightly against the flat of his hips, as if ignorant of the lust currently pooling in your brain.  

"Not scared..well, maybe a little. ‘Wanna make sure I’m not doing anything to startle you..” You mutter, having just enough sense to re-fasten your grip on him, one hand now making a pass over the warm leather of his belt.  

“What, you think I’m fragile? I can handle anything you throw my way....wait, does that make me sound like a skank?” He frowns. 

You snicker at his randomness. “..Kinda. But hey, nothing wrong with knowing your limits.”  

He seems consoled by your assertion, relaxing in your hold. “Yeah..exactly. Point is, I ain’t built like a brick wall for nothin’. I’m not a fan of the gentle crap..too boring..”  

“Mm..” You nod along as his words begin to slur, eyes turned up at him while your palm slides against his stomach, grazing over a thick patch of curly hair.  

His overall frame is indeed very solid, toned muscles covered by a decent layer of chub, especially around his chest and legs. Makes your mouth water a bit. Maybe it was the alcohol finally catching up to you, but you wanted nothing more than to grab and squeeze at every inch of him, watch your fingers sink in and see his face contort in a strange pleasure... 

“I’m not so well versed in being ‘rough’, but I can try...for you.” You whisper. 

Mista sighs, leaning himself more firmly against you. “Yeah? That’d make me feel realll special, baby. Hit me with the best that you’ve got, and maybe you’ll get even luckier tonight..”  

That pet name rolls so easily off his tongue..he should be ashamed. As should you, with your lopsided smile, excitement threatening to clog your arteries.  “..That a challenge I’m hearing?”  

Mista's teeth flash beneath a passing red light. “Damn straight it is.”  

Pride and competition have a funny way of eliminating one’s anxiety. “...Bet.”  

Your body whirrs with adrenaline, hand still wobbling as you raise it to his chin. Behind his shades, you can tell Mista has his eyes focused on you, his smirk nowhere near disappearing as he waits for you to make a move. Screw him for being so fine. You turn Mista’s face towards yours, guiding him forward until your lips brush against each other. He teases you, letting your bottom lips touch for a split second before pulling his head back a little, to which you give chase. You narrow your eyes, trying not to pout, but he only stares with a raised brow. Cleary he was trying to get a rise out of you...but you find his behavior more adorable than aggravating.  

Still, you give him what he wants; tugging his chin back towards you, this time leaving no room for him to jerk away. Your lips finally press together in a hurried clash, the kiss completely void of congeniality. Despite you initiating, Mista has control over every movement, his tongue being the first to slip it’s way past your teeth to probe and relish in the warmth of your mouth. He doesn’t stop grinding against you all the while, deliberately swaying and pushing his hips into your crotch, somehow still in tune with the music. You’d find time to be impressed about it later, as right now all you can think of is how fucked you are for this guy already.  

With his lips captured, you focus your hands back on his body, trailing your fingers along the edge of his shorts, silently reveling at how the fabric strains around his legs. Mista shifts when your knuckles sweep against the skin of his inner thigh, heaving a little sigh that vibrates against you. You don’t have to be a rocket scientist to recognize that he’s sensitive there, so you abuse your newfound knowledge by grabbing a handful of his upper thigh, giving it a tight squeeze while you nip at his lip. You’re dually satisfied when Mista arches against you, a groan sounding at the back of his throat.  

He swallows hard, but hardly stops to smile before diving back in to kiss you harder, laying his hand on top of yours for encouragement. Your heart feels like it could jump out of your chest, all this incoming stimulation almost too much to handle. Mista appears to be in the same boat, his pulse so palpable throughout his entire body; you can even feel it on his tongue. You wrap your unoccupied arm around his midsection, hand slowly slipping underneath his crop top to gently caress the soft skin of his ribs, causing him to press further into you. He’s practically hot to the touch, torso dampened with lingering sweat.  

“So warm..” You break away to say, now kissing the shell of his ear.  

Mista’s chuckle is caught on what you think might’ve been a moan. “That’s what hours of dancing will do to ya..”  

“No kiddin’.” You huff.  

He tilts his head up willingly as you lean forward to kiss his jaw, your lips tingling against the stubble that he’s allowed to grow there. Finally finding your own rhythm, you begin trailing kisses down the side of his neck, leaving blotches of red against his bronze skin along with small bites here and there. Not enough to pierce him, but definitely enough to leave small indents. Your hands continue to roam, crossing his love handles and tracing over the tiger stripes painted on his arms with a quiet tone of desire and need. Mista seems to be losing hold of his cool demeanor if the way he grabs at his hat is any indicator, 

“You ain’t so bad at this...” He breathes out, chewing on a whine when your nails drag along his abdomen.  

“Yeah, and you’re easier to break than I thought you’d be.” You try to hold back your smile, but the way he’s reacting is giving you a bit of an ego boost.  

“Dunno what the hell you mean..I’ve still got this shit on lock.” He smirks down at you wearily.  

You hum and press a little closer against his back, moving your hand to grope the space just below his belt buckle where his shorts are swallowed by his thighs. Expectedly, Mistas hips buck up into your palm like they’resentient, giving away his true position in the matter. Admittedly, it makes your own pants feel a bit tighter.  

“On lock? Kinda seems like you’re just about ready to give it up..”  

He sucks his teeth, embarrassed by the way his body betrayed him. “I blame the alcohol.”

It isn’t long after that that Mista is leading you off the dance floor, the two of you mushing through the crowd hand in hand. The DJ resumes his usual set, bringing back that original erratic flow that had everyone on their last breaths earlier, which only makes it harder to find a good break in the sea of people. Just when you think you’ve made it out in one piece though, you hear a familiar voice shouting at you from afar few feet away. 

“We knew you could do ittt!”  

You freeze, whipping your head around to see Bruno waving his arms at you, grinning wide. Leone stands behind him, pumping his fist to the music, but also apparently in solidarity with Bruno’s statement. You want to shrink into oblivion to the point of no return. Mista barks out a laugh, pointing at the couple with a raised brow.  

“You know them?”  

“...Friends of mine.” You grumble. Tomorrow, you’d be sure to give the two a piece of your mind.  

Mista smiles. “They seem nice! Veryyy supportive.”  

You resist rolling your eyes, tugging his hand to get his feet moving again. “Yeah, something like that...cmon, I’ll catch up with them later.”  

“Eh? You sure? I can wait a little bit if you wanna talk to ‘em.”  

You glance over your shoulder one more time, regretting it as soon as you see Bruno making a lewd gesture with his hands. “Nope. Totally fine.”  

The farther away you get from the main room, the thinner the crowd gets, reduced to small friend groups spread out and in their own worlds. Mista seems to know the layout of the club like the back of his hand, hardly as confused as you are when navigating the two of you to the far side of the building. But there was one thing you knew for sure-- 

“Isn’t the washroom in the opposite direction..?”  

Mista scrunches his face as if offended by the comment. “You wanna fuck in the bathroom..? What kinda man do you take me for?”  

“..Shit, sorry..I mean-you don’t exactly strike me as the refined type..”  

He snickers, “Nobody ever told you about not judgin' a book by it’s cover?”  

Cliche, but true. “..My bad.”  

“Aye, no need to get all sober about it. It’s cool..plus, I’m taking us somewhere even better.” Mista wiggles his eyebrows playfully, bringing a small smile back to your face.  

After speaking briefly to what you assume is a security guard of some sort, Mista shoulders open a large metal door, quickly dragging you in behind him. He holds your hand tight, the other keeping his hat in place as he takes you up a staircase that you never knew existed. The space is bathed in blacklight, highlighting the colorful graffiti tactfully scribbled on the brick walls around you. Your footsteps echo loudly in time with a now muffled tune, indicating you two were the only ones back here. Mista takes you up two levels, perhaps for good measure, stopping on one of the landings and pushing you back against the wall with a certain force that has your head spinning.  

Even as he rears closer, your eyes are still darting around, trying to get a feel for where the hell you are.  

“Is this...the fucking fire escape?”  

Mista pins a hand against the wall beside your head, the other taking off his shutter glasses. “Sure is. Neat, right?”  

Your gaze lands on him again, that sultry smirk of his, and now...his big brown eyes. Finally being under a stable light source, you can really admire the other features of his face..like his thick eyebrows and the little divots inhis cheeks...Dimples. Too cute. Seems he is a pretty boy after all.  

The realization makes your nerves spike again, and you stumble over your words. “S..Seriously? You’d fuck in a stairwell, but not the bathroom? Sounds contradictory.”  

He hooks his thumb into his shorts, tilting his head. “What? Come on, this place is ten times more sanitary.”  

“.withering concrete and glowing paint. Sanitary...right.” You say with a smile.  

Mista sighs. “Gimmie a break! Beggers can’t be choosers, aight? You’re welcome to leave if it’s not to your standards.” 

You shake your head, reaching out to lay your hand against his side. “What, after all the work I put in to woo you? No chance.”  

“Didn’t think so. Besides..no one will see us here, so we can get up to whatever we wanna.” He asserts, smiling as his lips are drawn to your neck, kissing the skin reverently.  

You chew your lip, hand now set on his back to keep him close. “You sound pretty sure of that... D’you bring a lot of guys here?”  

“Why, you jealous?” Mista’s soft chuckle sends a ripple of electricity through you. His banter is so effortless...it should be the absolute last thing that turns you on, but alas.. 

“’Course not..just curious..” You mutter.  

“Uhuh..so you say..” Mista hums and drags his lips along the underside of your jaw, free hand pressing against your stomach. His fingers slink beneath your shirt, making you squirm. “I don’t come here that often so...consider yourself special.”  

“Wow..I’m touched.”  

Had your brain been anymore scrambled with intoxication, you might’ve let yourself believe him without question. Though, your sarcasm only seems to rouse him, his knee nudging your legs apart so that he can slot himself closer. He consumes your gasp with a sloppy kiss, kickstarting the beat of your heart once more as his tongue fights for the attention of your own, to which you have no desire to refuse. You slide your hands down and aroundhis back until they settle over his ass cheeks; the way they fill your palms, so plump and malleable, you feel obligated to give them a generous squeeze.  

“Mmh-” Mista grunts and bites down on your bottom lip, breaths stuttering.  

You smile with a sort of pride, licking your way back into his mouth. Mista is just as eager to match your fervor, the kiss devolving into chaos in mere seconds. He moans and jitters the more you continue to fondle him, growing surprisingly vocal at even the smallest addition of pressure. You aren’t doing much better, panting pathetically and trying to clutch onto every bit of him that you can, as if that will somehow save you from being drowned in his passion. In reaching for the back of his head, you accidentally knock off his hat, revealing curly, dark hair that’s cropped just above his ears. Despite it being a bit damp, you pass your fingers through it, grip it, hold him as close as possible.  

Mista breaks to catch his breath, “Jesus christ—where have you been all my life? ’Feels like you’re trying to devour me.”  

Your eyelids flutter, and all you can think to say is, “..I am pretty hungry.”  

“..Ah?”  

Mista has only a split second to register the words before you grab him by the shoulder, using the brief pause as leverage to flip your positions, his back now against the wall. His eyes widen considerably, but he doesn’t recoil or complain. No, he doesn’t struggle in the slightest when you lift up his crop-top the rest of the way, exposing his bare chest to the warm air that surrounds you. In fact, he kindly holds the fabric up for you, giving what you assume is permission.  

Thoughts of your ex are so far removed from your mind now, you don’t even have the urge to question your own morals, how wrong it is to be engaging with someone else in this manner after such a recent breakup. Instead, a slur of depraved images shoot through your mind as you stare down at his torso; how you want to slather your lips all over it, squeeze his tits, run your hands over the dispersing pattern of every grove of hair...because damn is there a lot of it. It was only a matter of how far he’ll let you go...  

“Fuck, you’re sexy.” You decide to start by just feeling his body, dragging your knuckles against the length of him while capturing his lips in another soft kiss.  

He chuckles tenaciously, “I’ve been told..”  

He relaxes into your touch, but perks up a little when your hand cups his pec—yet you’re the one to let out a small whimper, horrifyingly aroused by the feeling of the fat seeping through the gaps of your fingers. Mista isn’texempt by any means, making his own erotic sounds into your ear when your middle finger so much as grazes his nipple. It only takes a few passes before it’s practically reaching out for you, hardened and waiting. What kind of man would you be to deny it? Deny him?  

You lower your head and turn your eyes up to Mista, melting beneath his needy stare as you flatten your tongue against his nipple, giving it one slow lick after another, now alternating between both pecs. His laid-back facade crumbles, brows pinched together as he stares with his mouth wide open, letting whiny croaks tumble out. It’s like music to your ears, far better than anything the DJ could’ve spun.  

His back bows off the brick wall as your tongue swirls in tight circles, and he bites down on his finger as if that will keep him from making anymore noise. It does not.  

“Shit..didn’t even know I was into this..” Mista is unsure of where to put his other hand, clear by the way he awkwardly latches it onto your shoulder.  

You simply smile and close your mouth around him, beginning a gentle sucking at the flesh, causing him to stutter out a rough moans, head now thrown back. You fear you could watch him like this forever, the way his lips quiver, and his long lashes flutter against reddened cheeks. But you also know that there’s so much more that you want to get around to... You allow yourself the pleasure of kissing, biting, and grasping his tits one last time, before forcing yourself off. His skin is left shimmering wet and slightly swollen, but that seems to be the least of his concerns.  

“Why’d you stop?” He sighs heavily, almost glaring at you. “Bored already?”  

“Nowhere near it. It's just..my mouth’s more useful for other things..” You quirk your brow, setting your hands on his hips before slowly starting to lower yourself. 

Mista blinks, and barely lets your knee hit the ground before he’s shaking his head and laughing. “Woah, woah, aye, the hell are you doing?”  

You stop in your tracks, staring confusedly. “...Was gonna give you head..?”  

He smirks slyly, tapping your chin. “Uh-uh, that’s a cop out. Off your knees, big guy...want you to fuck me proper.”  

Your stomach flips upside down, and you swear your vision goes blurry. Of all the things you suspected would come out of his mouth, it wasn’t..that. You swallow hard, fingers trembling as you make to stand again, guided by his persistent touch on your jaw. Your speechlessness clearly entertains him, as that smile of his only spreads further. He coaxes you back into his space, slipping his arm around your neck and hooking his thigh around your hip. Your hand moves instinctively to hold it up, and you’re drawn in by his hypnotizing gaze until your mouths end up pressed together once more.  

Mista grinds against you, a slow drag of bulging fabric along your front that has your mind buzzing with lust. You aren’t sure if you’ll even make it to taking off your damn pants—you don’t want to lose these intoxicating sensations for even a millisecond. You slant your hips forward in time with his own, the two of you no longer kissing, but more so breathing into each other’s open mouths.  

“’M not gonna last if we keep on like this..” You whisper.  

Mista’s forehead falls to your shoulder, his voice low and shaky. “Yeah..just a little longer though..”  

There was no room left to discuss it. “Mh..okay..”  

You reach down for Mista’s other leg, hauling it up so that you’re holding him against the wall by his thighs. He whines against your neck, crossing his ankles around your back to keep himself securely suspended. The position allows your bodies to remain in constant contact, your barred erections feeding off the equally euphoric and discomforting friction. It’d be a miracle if you walked away from this without any chafing.  

The slow grind morphs into a desperate, staccato thrusting on your part, and Mista can do little more than cling to you, curling a fist into your shirt as his head is thrown back once more. His moans echo through the stairwell, mixing with yours to spiral throughout the space and completely overtake whatever already muffled background music that had been playing. You can feel your arms growing tired, knees a little weak, but nowhere in your mind do you plan on stopping.  

“Fuck-fuck yes-God, please..” Mista stammers, covering his mouth with the back of his hand. “More- g’me more-”  

Your nails dig into the flesh of his thighs, eyes feebly locked onto his face as you whimper, humping him like a man starved for far too long. Seeing this, he pushes himself forward to kiss you yet again, returning that same level of greed in the flick of his tongue. It’s anything but controlled, and you soon feel a bit of drool running down your chin..but from whom, you’re not sure.  

“Think I’m gonna cum-” You blurt, bumping your teeth against his in the process. The realization had hit you way sooner than expected, and lord knows you’d never been good at trying to force a delay upon yourself.  

You expect him to protest, but Mista doesn’t even stop to speak, just nods as he anchors his arms further around your neck. And it wasn’t like you needed his permission...but somehow, having it made it so much hotter. As that flurry feeling begins setting your lower half on fire, your hips press hard into his, both of you jerking against each other until a final drag does you in. You should be embarrassed by the pitchy sound that escapes your throat as you come, but you’re too busy being buried by relief to care. Mista’s climax is soon to follow, his calves trembling against you, moans waning on your lips as his hips come to a grating halt.  

“Ugh..” A string of saliva connects your lips as he pulls back for air, warm breaths still littered with quiet whines.  

You close your eyes and sigh, leaning your head into the crux of his neck. The feeling of soiled jeans is something you hadn’t had the misfortune of experiencing since you were probably a teenager...needless to say, you didn’tmind it all that much at the moment.  

“..So much for fuckin’ you proper...” You murmur, mentally kicking yourself for getting so carried away.  

Mista laughs hoarsely, patting your back. “Hey, I ain’t mad...shit was amazing.”  

You hum, still feeling as though you gave him a pretty lackluster experience. If he claimed to have enjoyed it though, you weren’t going to argue...especially considering it was one of the best orgasms you’d had in a while. And that’s saying a lot.  

After taking a second to let your heart calm down, you carefully set Mista’s legs down on the floor again, crouching down to fix his shorts for him. Admittedly, you’re still thinking about what it would’ve been like to suck him off...in fact there were many things that you still wanted to do to him and for him. Unfortunately, you have too much dignity and are feeling way too exhausted to make any of this known. So, you give his inner thigh a little parting kiss before standing again, and adjusting your own clothes.  

Mista smiles shyly, scratching his cheek. “You’re a real interesting guy.” 

Dusting off your shirt, you raise a brow. “..Interesting?”  

He bends over to pick up his hat, a sinful view that should have you backtracking. “Can’t put my finger on it but...I think I like you.” Indeed, he says it as if it’s a question to himself. 

“Pretty straightforward way of putting it..” You try to play it cool, folding your arms against your chest.  

He shrugs. “No need to beat around the bush. But uh...Listen..” Mista approaches again, setting his hands on your waist with a small grin. “I can tell you’re pretty bummed at how things ended here so...maybe you can ‘make it up to me’ some other time?” 

If only he could see the rainbows and sunshine sprouting in your mind right now.  

You clear your throat. “..Yeah?”  

“Mhm.”  

“..Okay..I’d like that.”  

“Sweet.”  

Mista’s eyes trail over your face one last time, lingering as he digs something out from his pocket, and sticking it into the crease of your elbow. It might’ve been mysterious and cool if the crumpled paper didn’t immediatelyunravel and fall to the ground..but clearly Mista could care less as he’s already heading for the stairs, leaving you blinking stupidly after him.  

“See ‘ya round, cutie.” He throws up a hand, waving goodbye over his shoulder. 

You quickly reach down for the piece of paper, smoothing it out the rest of the way and holding it up to the light:  

‘xxx-xxx-xxxx  

~Guido Mista, available 25/7 Fri-Sat'  

“A fucking homemade business card..” You shake your head with a short laugh, shoving the scrap into your pocket.

Somehow, it seems very on brand for someone like him. Though, the state of the ‘card’ makes you think he had handed it out and taken it back several times...you now being the only one who actually got to keep it. You touch your fingers to your lips, glancing at the staircase where Mista’s footsteps have already stopped clacking, and the bracaelte still glowing on your rist..  

Seems you really do have good fortune after all.  

a/n: My Mista hunger is no where near satiated after this...there will be more in the future, mark my words...

Dividers Credits: Me!! <33

[sxcst3ve1]

I'm the anon who sent the Risotto request. Idk if you take specific anons but if you do, I'd like to be 🦇 anon. (You may have seen me requesting other filthy things on other JJBA blogs under this same alias, lol)

If you want a list of dirty fanfic ideas, my brain is constantly chock-full and I'd love to bestow them onto you.

HI AGAIN!!!

Omg...I would absolutely love for you to be my first specific anon!! I was thinking of making it a feature when I was making this blog, but I didn't know if anyone would be interested sooooo yah. Hopefully this will inspire others to follow in your footsteps! BUT YES! Congrats, I know bestow the 🦇 anon title unto you.

And YES YES 100X YES!! Give me allllll the filth. My brain constantly yearns for inspo, and I'd love to bring your thoughts to fruition.

[sxcst3ve1]

What about a femboy reader getting absolutely destroyed by Risotto? Like, reader isn't typically the type Risotto would go for, he prefers very independent partners who can take care of themselves. But he really wants to dominate reader, maybe see him tear up a bit from the overstimulation. And Risotto is pierced. Like...a lot. 🤤

Good evening anon...

I'm highk drooling just thinking about this. I've never written femboy reader before but TRUST, I will find a way to execute this oh my godduhhh. + Lord knows I've been wanting to do smth with Riso for FOREVERR. Adding this to my list immediately

Hopefully I can get to this sooner rather than later <33

[sxcst3ve1]

HANDS ON ME

Pairing: Guido Mista x m!reader

Synopsis: The exciting anticipation of the weekend is something nearly everyone can relate to, especially considering your predicament. After being slighted by your ex-boyfriend, your friends convince you to go to the club as a way to get him off your mind. It's just your luck when you spot a cute stranger to distract you from alll the heartbreak.

Content: [SMUT] Vers Mista, 'Top' Reader, (Switch Implications for both), Canon Divergent, Alternating POV (briefly) Alt. Colors Mista, Cub Mista (hairy/a bit chubby. Sue me.), Mista is mixed race, And has so much swagger hello, Everyone is at least 20, Club Setting, First Meeting, Flirting, Lots of dancing, Grinding, Dry Humping, Nipple Stimulation, Coming Untouched, Ass grabbing, Coming Prematurely, Morals? What Morals?

WC: 9.2k

a/n: I listened to a shit ton of 2000's music while writing this, I encourage you do the same LMAO. Ik it took me forever to finish this, so sorry! Also somehow this ended up being nearly as long as the Bruno fic so...Hope you enjoy <3

The overhead flash of neon pinks and greens, blues and oranges, throws a horde of people into a frenzy on the dance floor, the already heavy bass of the music amplified by their unified jumping. Strobe lights scan the crowd geometrically in intervals, blinding at times, but somehow only encourages everyone to get a little wilder in their movements. The crowd swarms with an intense energy, arms and necks being tossed every-which-way, distracting them from what was meant to be a discomforting warmth in the air, and the stickiness of sweat across their skin.  

In the center of all this, Mista shouts the lyrics of the chorus with what little breath he has left, his calves aching each time he springs up with the rhythm. He holds onto his hat for dear life and tries his hardest not to elbowanyone in the face, successful only 60% of the time. Not like he could hear their complaints over the music anyways, so technically he couldn’t get in trouble, right?  

Life never felt so easy as it did when Mista was at the club. Of all the simple pleasures he’d come across in his life, this one was undoubtedly his favorite. Absorbing concerning amounts of alcohol, meeting awesome strangers, and being able to move his body in any way his mind desired? It’s an experience that just can’t be replicated. So, he took it upon himself after each boring, under-stimulating work week to hit up the best underground club in Naples: Il Seminterrato.  

He was essentially a regular at this point, considering the DJ, bartenders, and owners knew his name and face. It earned him nothing more than a few drinks on the house every other weekend, and they’ve even stopped asking for his ID at the door, granting him quicker access. He couldn’t find it in himself to feel guilty about it even though he probably should; who wouldn’t want benefits like that? If it meant he could get on the floor faster, then who gives a damn?  

Mista opens his eyes and tilts his head to the ceiling, smiling to himself as the colors swirl and twinkle above him. Tonight felt...particularly exciting. He couldn’t explain why: maybe he’d had a little bit too much to drink already, or perhaps that monthly horoscope he’d read in the papers had been right after all—whatever it was, he knew for sure he wanted that feeling to last as long as possible.  

“Hey, you’re hot! Wanna dance?”  

A voice shouts at him from over his shoulder, startling him out of his thoughts. He snaps his head around, the stranger respectfully hovering behind him. The guy looked to be a few years older, but the flicks of glow-in-the-dark paint he had splattered on his face made it clear he was still in Mista’s ideal range. Regardless, he was pretty cute, so... 

“Hell yeah!”  

Mista backs up into the man's arms, allowing them to strap around his waist as they both continued to move with the music. Best to take what he could get.

 Recently, it felt like he was getting less and less action, but he couldn’t think of one reason why. He was as handsome as always, hype, friendly, all the things that magnetize people...yet the most he could get out of anyone was a brief kiss. Perhaps it’s because his taxi fare was $14.44 a few weeks ago...yeah, definitely that. Either way, he was sure this would finally be the night that he left the building with something more than a raging headache and sore feet.

With a deep sigh, you take a seat on the first open bar stool you can find, propping your elbows up on the counter and digging the heels of your palms into your eyes. A comforting—though it feels patronizing—hand lightly rubs your back, 

“Come on, you can’t start sulking now that we’ve finally made it here. That would put all my efforts to shame!” Your friend speaks into your ear, sounding a bit disheartened.  

You shake your head and wave him off, “Bruno please, I’m not sulking, I'm just...adjusting.”  

Your lie doesn’t seem to bode well with man, and his gentle rub turns into a ruthless pinch.  

“Ow-what the hell!” You turn around to glare at him, reaching back to soothe the pain.  

Bruno only smiles at you, placing his clutch in the hands of the man behind him before taking the stool beside you. “Don’t even, I can see it all over your damn face." 

“Jesus, Leone, could you please tell this prick to keep his hands to himself?” You complain to the tall man still standing, but the shrug he gives you is telling of who’s side he’s on.  

“Can’t. He’s right, you need to get outta your head.”  

“Sell out..” You say under your breath, placing your hand in your chin.  

“See? We’ve got to get you back to how you were in the cab. And I know just the trick..” Bruno doesn’t wait for your response as he reaches out to flag down the bartender, a young woman, who approaches with a friendly smile.  

“Hey ya’ll, what can I get ya?”  

“A round of tequila shots, please.”  

“You got it, boss.”  

Bruno tries to ignore the look you’re blatantly giving him by pretending to fix his shirt, as if the entire club couldn’t see his tits enough already.  

“Seriously? Are you trying to get me to make a fool of myself?” You tut, nudging him with your elbow. The last time you had too much tequila in your system, things had gotten a little...depraved.  

Bruno laughs, “Kind of, yes. This is the fastest way to get that stick out of your ass.”  

“I don’t have a ‘stick up my ass’, I’m reacting like how anyone else would if they’d just gotten dumped!”  

“You knew the guy was a piece of shit, you should’ve expected it at some point.” Leone chimes in, draping his arms over Bruno’s shoulders and resting his chin on his head.  

You roll your eyes. “He wasn’t that bad. I mean, sure he had a few quirks, but-” 

“Remember that time he ‘borrowed’ your car without asking to meet up with some ‘friends’ downtown?” He interrupts. Your face sours at the memory.  

“Oh right, and it turned out they’d gone to a strip club?” Bruno adds.  

“Not to mention him never paying for dinner and refusing to take photos with you-”  

“Okay, I get it, he was shady!” You groan, putting a fist to your forehead. “..You don’t gotta be so blunt about it.”  

Three short glasses are slid across the bar counter landing in a nice little cluster in front of you, their rims decorated with salt and a slice of lime. You all thank the bartender in unison, each of you grabbing the glass of your choosing.  

Staring down into the clear liquid, you feel your lips pull into a frown. As annoying as they were being about it, your friends are right about your ex. You’d met the man eight months ago by what felt like a miracle, considering your romantic life had been drier than a desert prior to his arrival. It started as a one-night-stand (which should’ve been your first sign), but he insisted on seeing you again multiple times afterwards. A few solid dates later, you’d developed a charming relationship, though it only stayed that way for a month or so. Upon first meeting him, your closest friends Leone and Bruno were skeptical of the guy’s intentions, but you brushed it off as them being overly protective.  

You had so easily gotten caught up in the excitement of having a boyfriend that you neglected all his distasteful tendencies; how he wouldn’t hold your hand or kiss you in public, the way he’d coincidentally run out of cash right after you’d already given him some...But oh, he gave the sweetest compliments, and in the comfort of your home, he treated you with such tenderness.. 

‘That bastard is going to bleed you dry.’ 

Leone had said in his usual aggravation. For whatever reason, you still held on to hope that the man would change, with a little pleading here and there...but it always fell on deaf ears. On Wednesday, it all came crashing down, and it was revealed that he had been seeing other men behind your back, an admission that had apparently only been a surprise to you. But without even getting a chance to discuss the matter, the man broke up with you on the spot, claiming he ‘had other clientele to tend to.’ You’d never felt so dejected in your life. Just like that, more than half a year of your time had gone to waste.  

“Shady doesn’t even cover it. He was a sleaze, and I should’ve decked him when I had the chance.” Leone’s gruff voice brings you back to the present.  

You huff, “Yeah, maybe...”  

With his free hand, Bruno presses his hand to your cheek, your gaze lifting to him. “Enough about that. We’re here to get him off your mind, not for you to ruminate.” The smile he gives is genuine, and it makes the tension in your chest ease up a little. He raises his shot glass between the two of you, “We’ve got more important business right now!”  

You respond with a softer smile, lifting yours as well. “-Okay, okay..cheers.”  

“Bottoms up, bitch.” Leone is the last to slot his glass into the circle, each of you laughing as you clink your shots together, lick the salt from the rim, and toss the liquid back. 

The tequila goes down without a fight, sparking your nerves with a thrill that you know will come to haunt you sooner rather than later. Before you can even set your glass down, Bruno is already ordering another round, nodding his head to the music which seems to grow louder by the second. Within what feel like mere minutes, the three of you are four shots in, and you even take it upon yourself to try one of the special edition cocktails they were selling for this week's event. It’s more fruity syrups than it is alcohol, but the little ball of flashing light at the bottom and the edible glitter inside of it makes up for the taste.  

Bruno gets his fingers around your straw when you glance away for the briefest second, giggling as he keeps the drink just out of your reach so that he can take a few sips of his own.  

“Hmmm...more tart than I expected it to be.” He sighs. “Not half bad though. Maybe I should get one of my own..”  

You smile and shake your head, reclaiming the glass. “I think you should time-out for a bit. The night is young, no need to rush the buzz.”   

“Not to mention you’ve already bitten off more than you can usually chew..” Leone comments with a smirk, leaving a glowing purple stain on the others cheek as he kisses him.  

Bruno folds his arms defensively, but his lips still have a small curve to them as he turns around to face his partner. “You drink like a sailor, and no one bats an eye.”  

“That’s ‘cause I can handle myself afterwards. You on the other hand..”  

“-Lightweight-” You cough into your fist.  

“Oh, whatever! I can ‘handle’ myself perfectly fine...besides, even if I can’t, Leone always knows the perfect way to tame me..”  

Bruno’s words are somewhat proven by the way Leone’s arm remains hooked around his waist, and he complies willingly when Bruno leans his head back for a kiss.  

“Uhmm, gross?” Your face twists in playful disgust at the display.  

“Envy is not a good look on you.” Bruno chuckles, crossing one of his legs over the other. Leone remains close, kissing the man's temple and some parts of his neck, leaving him covered in lipstick.  

“I’m just saying, have some decency. Your lap dog looks just about ready to dive his hands beneath your skirt at a moment's notice.” You grumble, taking another gulp of your drink.  

He shrugs, “Well, no one’s telling you to watch.”  

You furrow your brows, glancing away quickly. “My God, I hate you.”  

Bruno’s hands shoot out to grab your sleeve, tugging as he laughs. His drunken smile is way too cute, impossible to stay mad at. “Hey, hey, I’m kiddingg-! You know I’d never...especially not in a place like this.”  

“Yeah, whatever..”  

He purses his lips, dissatisfied with your conceding response. He ponders for a moment, glancing back at the dance floor before giving your arm another tug. “Look.. how about we do some cruising?”  

Your mouth dives into a frown around your straw at his suggestion. “...you can’t be serious.”  

“Do I look as though I’m joking?”  

...Indeed, Bruno has a rather resolute expression on his face, his brows firmly set, eyes just wide enough to show his conviction.  

“You know the saying; the best way to get over one is to get under another, mm?”  

He had a way of getting what he wanted out of anyone, stranger or not. Fortunately for him, you weren’t in the mood to argue. You draw in a deep breath, wedging your thumb into your forehead before sitting up straight, and turning fully towards him.  

“Okay, fine. But I’m making you two do all the work for me.”  

“Oh, trust me, you’re in great hands.” Bruno winks, shifting on his stool until he’s facing the bustling crowd, prompting you to do the same. He narrows his eyes and taps his chin as he looks over all the potential contenders. Leone follows suit, shielding his eyes from the lights and covering whatever ground Bruno doesn’t.  

At the very least, you were grateful that they were trying their best to keep you in high spirits. It wasn’t their job to do so, and they very well could have let you third wheel for the entire night, but instead they’re doing...this. It feels nice, knowing that you can always rely on them.  

“Ouu...what about him? Hot pink pumps, to your right.” Bruno points, guiding your attention.  

The character in question was almost half-naked, wearing what looked like a bright green bikini set that was definitely too small for him, paired with lacy pink thigh-high tights that matched his shoes. He has light purple hair cut asymmetrically, and some futuristic looking visor over his eyes. You tilt your head, looking him up and down, briefly considering. If nothing else, he sure did have a nice pair of legs.  

“...Cute, but he’s giving me a strange vibe.”  

Bruno rolls his eyes. “How can you catch a ‘vibe’ from all the way over here? Ridiculous.”  

As if overhearing your conversation, the stranger ends up locking eyes with you, a smirk appearing on his face before he licks his lips predatorily.  

You shiver. “Nope, it’s totally there. Next.”  

Bruno sighs, but dutifully returns to his surveying. “Okay, then...how about blondie over there?” 

The next man put under your curious gazes is deliciously tall with pale blonde hair scaling his back that sways as he moves, sporting a tight red jumpsuit and a variety of glowsticks around his wrists. 

“He’s pretty.” Bruno adds, looking for your approval. “You like pretty boys, don't you??”  

You rub your hand against your jaw. There was a slight hitch in this particular selection. “Sure, I do but..I don’t think he’s up for grabs.”  

Turning his head back to the man, Bruno grimaces at the downright murderous glare that another patron is giving the three of you; some red head with a snarl sharp enough to make a baby sob at first sight. The possessive type,you presume.  

“Talk about intense...Guess a threesome’s off the table then?”  

“Jesus, Bruno-”  

Your friend holds his hands up in surrender before folding them in his lap. “Just looking at all sides of the coin here, alright? I’m not letting you leave this place without at least one worthwhile interaction.”  

You massage the bridge of your nose between your fingers, speaking wearily, “Okay sure..but I think we need to step out of the box a little. Trying to shoot for my type is obviously getting us nowhere-”  

“How about him?”  

Leone’s voice breaks through your haphazard strategizing, causing both you and Bruno to look at him in mild shock. For what it was worth, it seemed he’d actually taken his time seeking someone out, but you still brace yourself for another failed suggestion. Once again, your eyes follow the direction of his pointed finger out towards the thrashing bodies, landing on- 

..Huh.  

Well, it certainly wasn’t what you were expecting, but maybe that was a good thing. You lean back against the bar top, brow lifted with intrigue. A wildly energetic man dances at the center of the floor, wearing a purple crop top with indigo trim, cross hatched with white stripes to create wide diamond shapes. The sleeves have been cut off, allowing him to show off his strong arms, and the glow-in-the-dark tiger stripes that he’s painted on them. As for his pants..well, they’re basically nonexistent: the white shorts have that same tiger pattern but in black, cut so high above his thighs that if he jumps too high, his ass cheeks might poke out. Really, it leaves absolutely nothing to the imagination.  

You’re momentarily confused as to why he’s wearing a hat in the club, especially since he’s practically in the ‘eye of the storm’ so to speak, but at the same time it feels like his outfit wouldn’t be complete without it. You track his face as he twirls around, subconsciously wondering what his eyes might look like beneath those shades he’s wearing.  

“Well? Thoughts?” Leone is already smirking in accomplishment, looping his arm around Bruno’s neck, who speaks up before you can.  

“’Looks a bit rough around the edges. A little trashy, even.” His words sound judgmental, but his expression seems admiring.   

You hold your chin in your hand, lips pulled askew. “Dunno..trashy isn’t always bad. He’s definitely an attention grabber.”  

“That’s true..” Bruno hums in agreement, leaning forward with his elbows on his knee. “If you haven’t got any gripes about him, then you should go for it. Don’t let me stop you.”  

You suck your teeth, fingers clenching into a fist. Suddenly, the prospect of approaching the attractive stranger was making your stomach twist. It’s not like you didn’t know how to put the moves on a guy when you wanted to, but you feel like you don’t have your usual spark. On top of that, you’re not sure if you could handle the possible rejection with the state you’re in now. Leone side-eyes you, noticing the confliction in your frown. He raises his hand from around Bruno to tap your shoulder, speaking clearly,  

“Hey. Think about it; you’ve really got nothing to lose. If he isn’t interested? Fine, we’ll find someone else. Don’t get yourself down in the dumps before you’ve given it a chance.”  

More than hating that he was being entirely reasonable, you hated that the statement was actually giving you courage. Despite this smidge of motivation, you felt glued to your seat, like you couldn’t take the first step of your own volition.  

“..I don’t know..maybe I should just wait and see if he notices me staring first..”  

“What, so then he can pin you as a creep? Besides, he’s too busy dancing to notice anything but his own two feet.” Bruno notes.  

“Okay, fair but-!”  

“Oh my god, get the hell up!” Leone hits your shoulder with more force, causing your body to jerk and scramble away in such a way that gets you right out of your stool. Bruno doesn’t let you sit back down either, pushing you gently towards the crowd.  

“Wait-I’m not ready!”  

“And you never will be. Just be yourself, and all will be fine! We’ll be right here if you need us.” 

With a final shove, you’re separated from your friends, left only to look back at their satisfied smiles as you get sucked into the whirlwind that is the dance floor. You want to shake your fists vigorously at them, give them a piece of your mind, but decide it's better if you don’t embarrass yourself in front of literally everyone. Your best bet is to try blending in; you begin side-stepping and jouncing your shoulders to the music, nervously shiftingyourself in the direction of your ‘target.’ For a moment, you lose sight of him, perks of getting bumped into every few seconds, sending you into just the slightest panic that totally doesn’t have your palms sweating, and the word ‘bail’ echoing in your head..  

But the Universe, of course, wouldn’t let you get away so easily. Your back smacks into that of another dancer, but as you turn to apologize for getting in their way.. 

“Argh- My bad, didn’t see ya’ there!”  

... 

He’s certainly hotter up close.  

Your tongue falls flat, whatever statement you’d been trying to make slipping away in an instant. Upon seeing what must be your dumbfounded expression, the man doesn’t turn away, instead continuing to dance as he looks you up and down. As if to get a better look, he lowers his glowing shutter glasses.  

“..’You good, man?” He asks with a questioning smirk, speaking loudly over the music.  

You try to swallow down all the excuses coming to mind, recounting Leone’s words. “Yeah-yeah I’m fine. Sorry for fucking up your flow.” You laugh, the sound awkwardly quiet and forced.  

“Eh, no sweat. When you’re a professional like me, it’s easy to catch the beat.” He pushes his glasses back up, a wider smile on his face.  

You raise a brow “Professional? For real? Impressive.”  

He chuckles like you’d said something stupid. “Hell, I wish. I do think I’ve got some killer moves though.”  

You feel a little relief. This guy was making things easy for you...he’s talkative, not afraid to brag a little. Good..as long as he isn’t the quiet type, you’ve got a bit of wiggle room.  

Realizing you’ve been standing practically still since he began speaking to you, you start dancing as well. “Yeah, I think so too. Been watching for a minute...honestly I’m surprised your legs are still intact.” 

“Watching you say? Well, then you should know I’ve taken enough shots to keep my system running for the next 48 hours, eh?”  

You smile, knowing you were somewhat in the same boat. “Sounds about right.” An idea comes to you then, the tiniest opening that you’d be damned to not exploit. “..Mind if I join you? I’ve got quite a bit of energy to spare myself.” 

Bruno would be so proud if he could hear you now.  

The stranger smirks, glancing around. “Considering my other partner ditched me...I don’t think I’d mind one bit.”  

You breathe out, anxiety fading away. So long as you don’t make an ass of yourself here, this might actually work. You unbutton the cuffs of your sleeves, rolling them up to your elbows for some better range of motion, trying to really get into the groove. Just as they’re exposed, he takes hold of one of your wrists, strapping one of his neon bracelets around it.  

You raise your brow at him. “-What’s this for?”  

“So I don’t lose sight of you, of course. This place’s like a death trap if you ain’t careful.”  

“Ah..” It felt more like he’d laid claim on you, but you shake that thought from your head quickly, smiling down at the little band. “Thanks..and uh-probably should’ve asked this first but, what’s your name?”  

“It’s Mista!” He replies excitedly, as if you’d been the only one to ask the entire night. “Or Guido, if you wanna get formal. Either’s fine with me!”  

Your smile grows a little. “Nice to meet you, Mista.”  

“Yeah, you too, cutie!”  

Probably too drunk to realize, Mista never reciprocates the question, which should worry you..but hearing him call you cute was enough to satisfy you for the moment.  

You work up a sweat trying to keep up with Mista’s sporadic and carefree movements, all in the hopes of not losing his interest. He’s like an animal, really, moving on pure instinct, which you find to be eerily attractive.  

“God, sometimes I feel like Timberlake just gets me, yknow?” He shouts, linking his arm over your shoulder.  

You chuckle and nod, “You’ve certainly got that playboy attitude down pact.”  

“Think so? I’ve been workin’ on it, honest.” Mista leans his head against yours.  

“Mm..you’re a natural, baby.” You fumble the last word, cheeks warm with caution. 

But Mista seems flattered regardless, smirking and leaning his weight further into you. “Seems you ain’t so bad yourself.”  

He pulls away, grabbing at your hands and curling his fingers around yours so that you both move in unison, back to dancing like nothing had happened. You’re partially grateful, as he makes it easy for you to brush off your mistake, but you mentally remind yourself that you’ve got to step up your game at some point.  

The DJ continues to play what could be a miles long list of different music artists, throwing some EDM in the mix with the usual Pop hits and a few classics from the late 80’s to give everyone a bit of what they wanted, a true melting pot. Though, everything has been so high tempo, you feel like you haven’t had a real chance to catch your breath...and anyone with a brain knows that asphyxiation and inebriation are not usually a good combination. You consider stepping off the floor for a minute, just to get some fresh air, maybe even catch up with Leo and Bruno, but you also really don’t want to leave Mista’s side. He’s so captivating; it’d almost be a disservice to take your eyes off of him for even a second.  

Almost as if smelling your dilemma in the air, the DJ finally decides to play something slower. Not just slow, but awfully sensual as well. The overhead lights dim down to a stable blood orange, no longer flashing, but instead revolving over the crowd like a wave. The energy in the room doesn’t exactly die down, but its charge becomes a lot more...intimate. If everyone was close before, they were definitely a lot closer now; people grabbing hold of their lovers and friends alike, committing to more fluid and alluring movements.  

You find out very quickly that Mista is no exception to this sudden change. No, in fact, he was made for it. He eases himself out of your grasp, his previous motions going down to his hips, arms moving to frame a perfect perimeter of space around himself. Shit, maybe he really is a professional. Your eyes flick down to those shorts again when he turns around, and you tug at your shirt collar when you’re face to face with an ass that sits a little too nicely. You’d be a moron to let him get away from you now.  

You toss your apprehension somewhere off to the side, sliding up behind the man and gently slipping your fingers into his beltloops. Mista doesn’t flinch not one bit, but he does glance over his shoulder with a small smirk, as if waiting to see what you’ll do next...as if he knows what he’s doing to you. You huff a small laugh at the thought, pulling him towards you until your chest meets his back, hips meet his ass, before you’re swaying in sync again.  

“Knew you had it in ya’.” Mista quips, reaching behind to grab one of your hands and place it against his waist.  

“You were waiting on..me?”  

“Duh? You’ve been gawking at me all night, no way you were gonna step-off from an opportunity like this.”  

You should be ashamed by his observation, but it’s hilarious in it’s own way. “Fair. But you’re intimidating..can’t blame me for being a little hesitant.”  

Mista lays his head back on your shoulder, only to show you the way he screws his face up at your comment. “Intimidating? What’s there to be scared of, I’m just livin' it up here.”  

You shake your head, “You’ve just got a certain..aura, I guess. Like you’re untouchable. It’s even more intense up close like this..”  

His expression fades into something more pleased. “You’ve got a funny way of complimenting people.”  

You trail your fingers against his side, shrugging lightly. “I could stop, if you’d like.”  

Mista grins, “Bastard, don’t you dare. You’re like, the only guy who’s stayed with me tonight. I’ll take whatever I can get.”  

The admission makes you frown a bit, “I remember you mentioning that earlier...what’s up with that?”  

He waves it off, facing forward again. “Hell if I know. Most only stuck around for a friendly interaction, or a little making out..”  

Listening to him, you feel a little guilty, knowing you too had approached him for the idea of getting a quick lay. Worse that you were doing it to get over your ex. But...it didn’t have to stay that way. You did have some genuine interest in the guy.  

“That’s awful.”  

“Eh, I’m already over it. I’ve got better company now..” Mista chuckles to himself, raising his finger to trace along your jaw. He hums as he watches you lean into it.  

God damn it. Maybe it was the alcohol that was making you so easy, or just your overall exhaustion from dancing but...you’re hooked on his every move. He begins to roll his body back against yours in time with the music, sending a jolt through your core.  

“Glad I could be of service, then.” You mumble, moving your hands down to his hips and giving them a small squeeze. “Feels like I just got lucky, though..” 

“Aye, what’s so wrong with that? You should be over the moon if Lady Luck is on your side!”  

“..Huh?” 

“I’m sayin’ you should be grateful for luck’s grace. She doesn’t show up for just anyone, so that means you must hold good fortune..”   

The tone he takes with you is genuine, and you blink a little at his adamance, trying to think of something to steer the conversation back in the right direction. “..Uh..yeah, you’re right. Not every day I get my hands on a guy ashot as you.”  

“Yeah?” Mista’s smile returns, a hint of mischief in it. “I’d bet not, perv.”  

If it was meant to be an insult, it has the opposite effect, a slight tingle spreading along your palms. “..Have I gotten too-”  

“Nah..” He cuts you off, bringing his hand to your cheek to turn your face to his. “..I don’t mind. Touch as much as you wanna.”  

Your jaw drops pathetically, some dormant urge suddenly awakening within you. Trying to save face, you pull your bottom lip between your teeth, brows drawn together as you stare at him. “I am like..painfully into you.”  

He laughs, tilting his head to the side. “Are you? Can’t tell with the way your hands are trembling, like you’re scared or somethin’.”  

You hadn’t noticed it at first, but his mention of it brings you to a shameful awareness. Indeed, your fingers shake lightly against the flat of his hips, as if ignorant of the lust currently pooling in your brain.  

"Not scared..well, maybe a little. ‘Wanna make sure I’m not doing anything to startle you..” You mutter, having just enough sense to re-fasten your grip on him, one hand now making a pass over the warm leather of his belt.  

“What, you think I’m fragile? I can handle anything you throw my way....wait, does that make me sound like a skank?” He frowns. 

You snicker at his randomness. “..Kinda. But hey, nothing wrong with knowing your limits.”  

He seems consoled by your assertion, relaxing in your hold. “Yeah..exactly. Point is, I ain’t built like a brick wall for nothin’. I’m not a fan of the gentle crap..too boring..”  

“Mm..” You nod along as his words begin to slur, eyes turned up at him while your palm slides against his stomach, grazing over a thick patch of curly hair.  

His overall frame is indeed very solid, toned muscles covered by a decent layer of chub, especially around his chest and legs. Makes your mouth water a bit. Maybe it was the alcohol finally catching up to you, but you wanted nothing more than to grab and squeeze at every inch of him, watch your fingers sink in and see his face contort in a strange pleasure... 

“I’m not so well versed in being ‘rough’, but I can try...for you.” You whisper. 

Mista sighs, leaning himself more firmly against you. “Yeah? That’d make me feel realll special, baby. Hit me with the best that you’ve got, and maybe you’ll get even luckier tonight..”  

That pet name rolls so easily off his tongue..he should be ashamed. As should you, with your lopsided smile, excitement threatening to clog your arteries.  “..That a challenge I’m hearing?”  

Mista's teeth flash beneath a passing red light. “Damn straight it is.”  

Pride and competition have a funny way of eliminating one’s anxiety. “...Bet.”  

Your body whirrs with adrenaline, hand still wobbling as you raise it to his chin. Behind his shades, you can tell Mista has his eyes focused on you, his smirk nowhere near disappearing as he waits for you to make a move. Screw him for being so fine. You turn Mista’s face towards yours, guiding him forward until your lips brush against each other. He teases you, letting your bottom lips touch for a split second before pulling his head back a little, to which you give chase. You narrow your eyes, trying not to pout, but he only stares with a raised brow. Cleary he was trying to get a rise out of you...but you find his behavior more adorable than aggravating.  

Still, you give him what he wants; tugging his chin back towards you, this time leaving no room for him to jerk away. Your lips finally press together in a hurried clash, the kiss completely void of congeniality. Despite you initiating, Mista has control over every movement, his tongue being the first to slip it’s way past your teeth to probe and relish in the warmth of your mouth. He doesn’t stop grinding against you all the while, deliberately swaying and pushing his hips into your crotch, somehow still in tune with the music. You’d find time to be impressed about it later, as right now all you can think of is how fucked you are for this guy already.  

With his lips captured, you focus your hands back on his body, trailing your fingers along the edge of his shorts, silently reveling at how the fabric strains around his legs. Mista shifts when your knuckles sweep against the skin of his inner thigh, heaving a little sigh that vibrates against you. You don’t have to be a rocket scientist to recognize that he’s sensitive there, so you abuse your newfound knowledge by grabbing a handful of his upper thigh, giving it a tight squeeze while you nip at his lip. You’re dually satisfied when Mista arches against you, a groan sounding at the back of his throat.  

He swallows hard, but hardly stops to smile before diving back in to kiss you harder, laying his hand on top of yours for encouragement. Your heart feels like it could jump out of your chest, all this incoming stimulation almost too much to handle. Mista appears to be in the same boat, his pulse so palpable throughout his entire body; you can even feel it on his tongue. You wrap your unoccupied arm around his midsection, hand slowly slipping underneath his crop top to gently caress the soft skin of his ribs, causing him to press further into you. He’s practically hot to the touch, torso dampened with lingering sweat.  

“So warm..” You break away to say, now kissing the shell of his ear.  

Mista’s chuckle is caught on what you think might’ve been a moan. “That’s what hours of dancing will do to ya..”  

“No kiddin’.” You huff.  

He tilts his head up willingly as you lean forward to kiss his jaw, your lips tingling against the stubble that he’s allowed to grow there. Finally finding your own rhythm, you begin trailing kisses down the side of his neck, leaving blotches of red against his bronze skin along with small bites here and there. Not enough to pierce him, but definitely enough to leave small indents. Your hands continue to roam, crossing his love handles and tracing over the tiger stripes painted on his arms with a quiet tone of desire and need. Mista seems to be losing hold of his cool demeanor if the way he grabs at his hat is any indicator, 

“You ain’t so bad at this...” He breathes out, chewing on a whine when your nails drag along his abdomen.  

“Yeah, and you’re easier to break than I thought you’d be.” You try to hold back your smile, but the way he’s reacting is giving you a bit of an ego boost.  

“Dunno what the hell you mean..I’ve still got this shit on lock.” He smirks down at you wearily.  

You hum and press a little closer against his back, moving your hand to grope the space just below his belt buckle where his shorts are swallowed by his thighs. Expectedly, Mistas hips buck up into your palm like they’resentient, giving away his true position in the matter. Admittedly, it makes your own pants feel a bit tighter.  

“On lock? Kinda seems like you’re just about ready to give it up..”  

He sucks his teeth, embarrassed by the way his body betrayed him. “I blame the alcohol.”

It isn’t long after that that Mista is leading you off the dance floor, the two of you mushing through the crowd hand in hand. The DJ resumes his usual set, bringing back that original erratic flow that had everyone on their last breaths earlier, which only makes it harder to find a good break in the sea of people. Just when you think you’ve made it out in one piece though, you hear a familiar voice shouting at you from afar few feet away. 

“We knew you could do ittt!”  

You freeze, whipping your head around to see Bruno waving his arms at you, grinning wide. Leone stands behind him, pumping his fist to the music, but also apparently in solidarity with Bruno’s statement. You want to shrink into oblivion to the point of no return. Mista barks out a laugh, pointing at the couple with a raised brow.  

“You know them?”  

“...Friends of mine.” You grumble. Tomorrow, you’d be sure to give the two a piece of your mind.  

Mista smiles. “They seem nice! Veryyy supportive.”  

You resist rolling your eyes, tugging his hand to get his feet moving again. “Yeah, something like that...cmon, I’ll catch up with them later.”  

“Eh? You sure? I can wait a little bit if you wanna talk to ‘em.”  

You glance over your shoulder one more time, regretting it as soon as you see Bruno making a lewd gesture with his hands. “Nope. Totally fine.”  

The farther away you get from the main room, the thinner the crowd gets, reduced to small friend groups spread out and in their own worlds. Mista seems to know the layout of the club like the back of his hand, hardly as confused as you are when navigating the two of you to the far side of the building. But there was one thing you knew for sure-- 

“Isn’t the washroom in the opposite direction..?”  

Mista scrunches his face as if offended by the comment. “You wanna fuck in the bathroom..? What kinda man do you take me for?”  

“..Shit, sorry..I mean-you don’t exactly strike me as the refined type..”  

He snickers, “Nobody ever told you about not judgin' a book by it’s cover?”  

Cliche, but true. “..My bad.”  

“Aye, no need to get all sober about it. It’s cool..plus, I’m taking us somewhere even better.” Mista wiggles his eyebrows playfully, bringing a small smile back to your face.  

After speaking briefly to what you assume is a security guard of some sort, Mista shoulders open a large metal door, quickly dragging you in behind him. He holds your hand tight, the other keeping his hat in place as he takes you up a staircase that you never knew existed. The space is bathed in blacklight, highlighting the colorful graffiti tactfully scribbled on the brick walls around you. Your footsteps echo loudly in time with a now muffled tune, indicating you two were the only ones back here. Mista takes you up two levels, perhaps for good measure, stopping on one of the landings and pushing you back against the wall with a certain force that has your head spinning.  

Even as he rears closer, your eyes are still darting around, trying to get a feel for where the hell you are.  

“Is this...the fucking fire escape?”  

Mista pins a hand against the wall beside your head, the other taking off his shutter glasses. “Sure is. Neat, right?”  

Your gaze lands on him again, that sultry smirk of his, and now...his big brown eyes. Finally being under a stable light source, you can really admire the other features of his face..like his thick eyebrows and the little divots inhis cheeks...Dimples. Too cute. Seems he is a pretty boy after all.  

The realization makes your nerves spike again, and you stumble over your words. “S..Seriously? You’d fuck in a stairwell, but not the bathroom? Sounds contradictory.”  

He hooks his thumb into his shorts, tilting his head. “What? Come on, this place is ten times more sanitary.”  

“.withering concrete and glowing paint. Sanitary...right.” You say with a smile.  

Mista sighs. “Gimmie a break! Beggers can’t be choosers, aight? You’re welcome to leave if it’s not to your standards.” 

You shake your head, reaching out to lay your hand against his side. “What, after all the work I put in to woo you? No chance.”  

“Didn’t think so. Besides..no one will see us here, so we can get up to whatever we wanna.” He asserts, smiling as his lips are drawn to your neck, kissing the skin reverently.  

You chew your lip, hand now set on his back to keep him close. “You sound pretty sure of that... D’you bring a lot of guys here?”  

“Why, you jealous?” Mista’s soft chuckle sends a ripple of electricity through you. His banter is so effortless...it should be the absolute last thing that turns you on, but alas.. 

“’Course not..just curious..” You mutter.  

“Uhuh..so you say..” Mista hums and drags his lips along the underside of your jaw, free hand pressing against your stomach. His fingers slink beneath your shirt, making you squirm. “I don’t come here that often so...consider yourself special.”  

“Wow..I’m touched.”  

Had your brain been anymore scrambled with intoxication, you might’ve let yourself believe him without question. Though, your sarcasm only seems to rouse him, his knee nudging your legs apart so that he can slot himself closer. He consumes your gasp with a sloppy kiss, kickstarting the beat of your heart once more as his tongue fights for the attention of your own, to which you have no desire to refuse. You slide your hands down and aroundhis back until they settle over his ass cheeks; the way they fill your palms, so plump and malleable, you feel obligated to give them a generous squeeze.  

“Mmh-” Mista grunts and bites down on your bottom lip, breaths stuttering.  

You smile with a sort of pride, licking your way back into his mouth. Mista is just as eager to match your fervor, the kiss devolving into chaos in mere seconds. He moans and jitters the more you continue to fondle him, growing surprisingly vocal at even the smallest addition of pressure. You aren’t doing much better, panting pathetically and trying to clutch onto every bit of him that you can, as if that will somehow save you from being drowned in his passion. In reaching for the back of his head, you accidentally knock off his hat, revealing curly, dark hair that’s cropped just above his ears. Despite it being a bit damp, you pass your fingers through it, grip it, hold him as close as possible.  

Mista breaks to catch his breath, “Jesus christ—where have you been all my life? ’Feels like you’re trying to devour me.”  

Your eyelids flutter, and all you can think to say is, “..I am pretty hungry.”  

“..Ah?”  

Mista has only a split second to register the words before you grab him by the shoulder, using the brief pause as leverage to flip your positions, his back now against the wall. His eyes widen considerably, but he doesn’t recoil or complain. No, he doesn’t struggle in the slightest when you lift up his crop-top the rest of the way, exposing his bare chest to the warm air that surrounds you. In fact, he kindly holds the fabric up for you, giving what you assume is permission.  

Thoughts of your ex are so far removed from your mind now, you don’t even have the urge to question your own morals, how wrong it is to be engaging with someone else in this manner after such a recent breakup. Instead, a slur of depraved images shoot through your mind as you stare down at his torso; how you want to slather your lips all over it, squeeze his tits, run your hands over the dispersing pattern of every grove of hair...because damn is there a lot of it. It was only a matter of how far he’ll let you go...  

“Fuck, you’re sexy.” You decide to start by just feeling his body, dragging your knuckles against the length of him while capturing his lips in another soft kiss.  

He chuckles tenaciously, “I’ve been told..”  

He relaxes into your touch, but perks up a little when your hand cups his pec—yet you’re the one to let out a small whimper, horrifyingly aroused by the feeling of the fat seeping through the gaps of your fingers. Mista isn’texempt by any means, making his own erotic sounds into your ear when your middle finger so much as grazes his nipple. It only takes a few passes before it’s practically reaching out for you, hardened and waiting. What kind of man would you be to deny it? Deny him?  

You lower your head and turn your eyes up to Mista, melting beneath his needy stare as you flatten your tongue against his nipple, giving it one slow lick after another, now alternating between both pecs. His laid-back facade crumbles, brows pinched together as he stares with his mouth wide open, letting whiny croaks tumble out. It’s like music to your ears, far better than anything the DJ could’ve spun.  

His back bows off the brick wall as your tongue swirls in tight circles, and he bites down on his finger as if that will keep him from making anymore noise. It does not.  

“Shit..didn’t even know I was into this..” Mista is unsure of where to put his other hand, clear by the way he awkwardly latches it onto your shoulder.  

You simply smile and close your mouth around him, beginning a gentle sucking at the flesh, causing him to stutter out a rough moans, head now thrown back. You fear you could watch him like this forever, the way his lips quiver, and his long lashes flutter against reddened cheeks. But you also know that there’s so much more that you want to get around to... You allow yourself the pleasure of kissing, biting, and grasping his tits one last time, before forcing yourself off. His skin is left shimmering wet and slightly swollen, but that seems to be the least of his concerns.  

“Why’d you stop?” He sighs heavily, almost glaring at you. “Bored already?”  

“Nowhere near it. It's just..my mouth’s more useful for other things..” You quirk your brow, setting your hands on his hips before slowly starting to lower yourself. 

Mista blinks, and barely lets your knee hit the ground before he’s shaking his head and laughing. “Woah, woah, aye, the hell are you doing?”  

You stop in your tracks, staring confusedly. “...Was gonna give you head..?”  

He smirks slyly, tapping your chin. “Uh-uh, that’s a cop out. Off your knees, big guy...want you to fuck me proper.”  

Your stomach flips upside down, and you swear your vision goes blurry. Of all the things you suspected would come out of his mouth, it wasn’t..that. You swallow hard, fingers trembling as you make to stand again, guided by his persistent touch on your jaw. Your speechlessness clearly entertains him, as that smile of his only spreads further. He coaxes you back into his space, slipping his arm around your neck and hooking his thigh around your hip. Your hand moves instinctively to hold it up, and you’re drawn in by his hypnotizing gaze until your mouths end up pressed together once more.  

Mista grinds against you, a slow drag of bulging fabric along your front that has your mind buzzing with lust. You aren’t sure if you’ll even make it to taking off your damn pants—you don’t want to lose these intoxicating sensations for even a millisecond. You slant your hips forward in time with his own, the two of you no longer kissing, but more so breathing into each other’s open mouths.  

“’M not gonna last if we keep on like this..” You whisper.  

Mista’s forehead falls to your shoulder, his voice low and shaky. “Yeah..just a little longer though..”  

There was no room left to discuss it. “Mh..okay..”  

You reach down for Mista’s other leg, hauling it up so that you’re holding him against the wall by his thighs. He whines against your neck, crossing his ankles around your back to keep himself securely suspended. The position allows your bodies to remain in constant contact, your barred erections feeding off the equally euphoric and discomforting friction. It’d be a miracle if you walked away from this without any chafing.  

The slow grind morphs into a desperate, staccato thrusting on your part, and Mista can do little more than cling to you, curling a fist into your shirt as his head is thrown back once more. His moans echo through the stairwell, mixing with yours to spiral throughout the space and completely overtake whatever already muffled background music that had been playing. You can feel your arms growing tired, knees a little weak, but nowhere in your mind do you plan on stopping.  

“Fuck-fuck yes-God, please..” Mista stammers, covering his mouth with the back of his hand. “More- g’me more-”  

Your nails dig into the flesh of his thighs, eyes feebly locked onto his face as you whimper, humping him like a man starved for far too long. Seeing this, he pushes himself forward to kiss you yet again, returning that same level of greed in the flick of his tongue. It’s anything but controlled, and you soon feel a bit of drool running down your chin..but from whom, you’re not sure.  

“Think I’m gonna cum-” You blurt, bumping your teeth against his in the process. The realization had hit you way sooner than expected, and lord knows you’d never been good at trying to force a delay upon yourself.  

You expect him to protest, but Mista doesn’t even stop to speak, just nods as he anchors his arms further around your neck. And it wasn’t like you needed his permission...but somehow, having it made it so much hotter. As that flurry feeling begins setting your lower half on fire, your hips press hard into his, both of you jerking against each other until a final drag does you in. You should be embarrassed by the pitchy sound that escapes your throat as you come, but you’re too busy being buried by relief to care. Mista’s climax is soon to follow, his calves trembling against you, moans waning on your lips as his hips come to a grating halt.  

“Ugh..” A string of saliva connects your lips as he pulls back for air, warm breaths still littered with quiet whines.  

You close your eyes and sigh, leaning your head into the crux of his neck. The feeling of soiled jeans is something you hadn’t had the misfortune of experiencing since you were probably a teenager...needless to say, you didn’tmind it all that much at the moment.  

“..So much for fuckin’ you proper...” You murmur, mentally kicking yourself for getting so carried away.  

Mista laughs hoarsely, patting your back. “Hey, I ain’t mad...shit was amazing.”  

You hum, still feeling as though you gave him a pretty lackluster experience. If he claimed to have enjoyed it though, you weren’t going to argue...especially considering it was one of the best orgasms you’d had in a while. And that’s saying a lot.  

After taking a second to let your heart calm down, you carefully set Mista’s legs down on the floor again, crouching down to fix his shorts for him. Admittedly, you’re still thinking about what it would’ve been like to suck him off...in fact there were many things that you still wanted to do to him and for him. Unfortunately, you have too much dignity and are feeling way too exhausted to make any of this known. So, you give his inner thigh a little parting kiss before standing again, and adjusting your own clothes.  

Mista smiles shyly, scratching his cheek. “You’re a real interesting guy.” 

Dusting off your shirt, you raise a brow. “..Interesting?”  

He bends over to pick up his hat, a sinful view that should have you backtracking. “Can’t put my finger on it but...I think I like you.” Indeed, he says it as if it’s a question to himself. 

“Pretty straightforward way of putting it..” You try to play it cool, folding your arms against your chest.  

He shrugs. “No need to beat around the bush. But uh...Listen..” Mista approaches again, setting his hands on your waist with a small grin. “I can tell you’re pretty bummed at how things ended here so...maybe you can ‘make it up to me’ some other time?” 

If only he could see the rainbows and sunshine sprouting in your mind right now.  

You clear your throat. “..Yeah?”  

“Mhm.”  

“..Okay..I’d like that.”  

“Sweet.”  

Mista’s eyes trail over your face one last time, lingering as he digs something out from his pocket, and sticking it into the crease of your elbow. It might’ve been mysterious and cool if the crumpled paper didn’t immediatelyunravel and fall to the ground..but clearly Mista could care less as he’s already heading for the stairs, leaving you blinking stupidly after him.  

“See ‘ya round, cutie.” He throws up a hand, waving goodbye over his shoulder. 

You quickly reach down for the piece of paper, smoothing it out the rest of the way and holding it up to the light:  

‘xxx-xxx-xxxx  

~Guido Mista, available 25/7 Fri-Sat'  

“A fucking homemade business card..” You shake your head with a short laugh, shoving the scrap into your pocket.

Somehow, it seems very on brand for someone like him. Though, the state of the ‘card’ makes you think he had handed it out and taken it back several times...you now being the only one who actually got to keep it. You touch your fingers to your lips, glancing at the staircase where Mista’s footsteps have already stopped clacking, and the bracaelte still glowing on your rist..  

Seems you really do have good fortune after all.  

a/n: My Mista hunger is no where near satiated after this...there will be more in the future, mark my words...

Dividers Credits: Me!! <33

[sxcst3ve1]

HANDS ON ME

Pairing: Guido Mista x m!reader

Synopsis: The exciting anticipation of the weekend is something nearly everyone can relate to, especially considering your predicament. After being slighted by your ex-boyfriend, your friends convince you to go to the club as a way to get him off your mind. It's just your luck when you spot a cute stranger to distract you from alll the heartbreak.

Content: [SMUT] Vers Mista, 'Top' Reader, (Switch Implications for both), Canon Divergent, Alternating POV (briefly) Alt. Colors Mista, Cub Mista (hairy/a bit chubby. Sue me.), Mista is mixed race, And has so much swagger hello, Everyone is at least 20, Club Setting, First Meeting, Flirting, Lots of dancing, Grinding, Dry Humping, Nipple Stimulation, Coming Untouched, Ass grabbing, Coming Prematurely, Morals? What Morals?

WC: 9.2k

a/n: I listened to a shit ton of 2000's music while writing this, I encourage you do the same LMAO. Ik it took me forever to finish this, so sorry! Also somehow this ended up being nearly as long as the Bruno fic so...Hope you enjoy <3

The overhead flash of neon pinks and greens, blues and oranges, throws a horde of people into a frenzy on the dance floor, the already heavy bass of the music amplified by their unified jumping. Strobe lights scan the crowd geometrically in intervals, blinding at times, but somehow only encourages everyone to get a little wilder in their movements. The crowd swarms with an intense energy, arms and necks being tossed every-which-way, distracting them from what was meant to be a discomforting warmth in the air, and the stickiness of sweat across their skin.  

In the center of all this, Mista shouts the lyrics of the chorus with what little breath he has left, his calves aching each time he springs up with the rhythm. He holds onto his hat for dear life and tries his hardest not to elbowanyone in the face, successful only 60% of the time. Not like he could hear their complaints over the music anyways, so technically he couldn’t get in trouble, right?  

Life never felt so easy as it did when Mista was at the club. Of all the simple pleasures he’d come across in his life, this one was undoubtedly his favorite. Absorbing concerning amounts of alcohol, meeting awesome strangers, and being able to move his body in any way his mind desired? It’s an experience that just can’t be replicated. So, he took it upon himself after each boring, under-stimulating work week to hit up the best underground club in Naples: Il Seminterrato.  

He was essentially a regular at this point, considering the DJ, bartenders, and owners knew his name and face. It earned him nothing more than a few drinks on the house every other weekend, and they’ve even stopped asking for his ID at the door, granting him quicker access. He couldn’t find it in himself to feel guilty about it even though he probably should; who wouldn’t want benefits like that? If it meant he could get on the floor faster, then who gives a damn?  

Mista opens his eyes and tilts his head to the ceiling, smiling to himself as the colors swirl and twinkle above him. Tonight felt...particularly exciting. He couldn’t explain why: maybe he’d had a little bit too much to drink already, or perhaps that monthly horoscope he’d read in the papers had been right after all—whatever it was, he knew for sure he wanted that feeling to last as long as possible.  

“Hey, you’re hot! Wanna dance?”  

A voice shouts at him from over his shoulder, startling him out of his thoughts. He snaps his head around, the stranger respectfully hovering behind him. The guy looked to be a few years older, but the flicks of glow-in-the-dark paint he had splattered on his face made it clear he was still in Mista’s ideal range. Regardless, he was pretty cute, so... 

“Hell yeah!”  

Mista backs up into the man's arms, allowing them to strap around his waist as they both continued to move with the music. Best to take what he could get.

 Recently, it felt like he was getting less and less action, but he couldn’t think of one reason why. He was as handsome as always, hype, friendly, all the things that magnetize people...yet the most he could get out of anyone was a brief kiss. Perhaps it’s because his taxi fare was $14.44 a few weeks ago...yeah, definitely that. Either way, he was sure this would finally be the night that he left the building with something more than a raging headache and sore feet.

With a deep sigh, you take a seat on the first open bar stool you can find, propping your elbows up on the counter and digging the heels of your palms into your eyes. A comforting—though it feels patronizing—hand lightly rubs your back, 

“Come on, you can’t start sulking now that we’ve finally made it here. That would put all my efforts to shame!” Your friend speaks into your ear, sounding a bit disheartened.  

You shake your head and wave him off, “Bruno please, I’m not sulking, I'm just...adjusting.”  

Your lie doesn’t seem to bode well with man, and his gentle rub turns into a ruthless pinch.  

“Ow-what the hell!” You turn around to glare at him, reaching back to soothe the pain.  

Bruno only smiles at you, placing his clutch in the hands of the man behind him before taking the stool beside you. “Don’t even, I can see it all over your damn face." 

“Jesus, Leone, could you please tell this prick to keep his hands to himself?” You complain to the tall man still standing, but the shrug he gives you is telling of who’s side he’s on.  

“Can’t. He’s right, you need to get outta your head.”  

“Sell out..” You say under your breath, placing your hand in your chin.  

“See? We’ve got to get you back to how you were in the cab. And I know just the trick..” Bruno doesn’t wait for your response as he reaches out to flag down the bartender, a young woman, who approaches with a friendly smile.  

“Hey ya’ll, what can I get ya?”  

“A round of tequila shots, please.”  

“You got it, boss.”  

Bruno tries to ignore the look you’re blatantly giving him by pretending to fix his shirt, as if the entire club couldn’t see his tits enough already.  

“Seriously? Are you trying to get me to make a fool of myself?” You tut, nudging him with your elbow. The last time you had too much tequila in your system, things had gotten a little...depraved.  

Bruno laughs, “Kind of, yes. This is the fastest way to get that stick out of your ass.”  

“I don’t have a ‘stick up my ass’, I’m reacting like how anyone else would if they’d just gotten dumped!”  

“You knew the guy was a piece of shit, you should’ve expected it at some point.” Leone chimes in, draping his arms over Bruno’s shoulders and resting his chin on his head.  

You roll your eyes. “He wasn’t that bad. I mean, sure he had a few quirks, but-” 

“Remember that time he ‘borrowed’ your car without asking to meet up with some ‘friends’ downtown?” He interrupts. Your face sours at the memory.  

“Oh right, and it turned out they’d gone to a strip club?” Bruno adds.  

“Not to mention him never paying for dinner and refusing to take photos with you-”  

“Okay, I get it, he was shady!” You groan, putting a fist to your forehead. “..You don’t gotta be so blunt about it.”  

Three short glasses are slid across the bar counter landing in a nice little cluster in front of you, their rims decorated with salt and a slice of lime. You all thank the bartender in unison, each of you grabbing the glass of your choosing.  

Staring down into the clear liquid, you feel your lips pull into a frown. As annoying as they were being about it, your friends are right about your ex. You’d met the man eight months ago by what felt like a miracle, considering your romantic life had been drier than a desert prior to his arrival. It started as a one-night-stand (which should’ve been your first sign), but he insisted on seeing you again multiple times afterwards. A few solid dates later, you’d developed a charming relationship, though it only stayed that way for a month or so. Upon first meeting him, your closest friends Leone and Bruno were skeptical of the guy’s intentions, but you brushed it off as them being overly protective.  

You had so easily gotten caught up in the excitement of having a boyfriend that you neglected all his distasteful tendencies; how he wouldn’t hold your hand or kiss you in public, the way he’d coincidentally run out of cash right after you’d already given him some...But oh, he gave the sweetest compliments, and in the comfort of your home, he treated you with such tenderness.. 

‘That bastard is going to bleed you dry.’ 

Leone had said in his usual aggravation. For whatever reason, you still held on to hope that the man would change, with a little pleading here and there...but it always fell on deaf ears. On Wednesday, it all came crashing down, and it was revealed that he had been seeing other men behind your back, an admission that had apparently only been a surprise to you. But without even getting a chance to discuss the matter, the man broke up with you on the spot, claiming he ‘had other clientele to tend to.’ You’d never felt so dejected in your life. Just like that, more than half a year of your time had gone to waste.  

“Shady doesn’t even cover it. He was a sleaze, and I should’ve decked him when I had the chance.” Leone’s gruff voice brings you back to the present.  

You huff, “Yeah, maybe...”  

With his free hand, Bruno presses his hand to your cheek, your gaze lifting to him. “Enough about that. We’re here to get him off your mind, not for you to ruminate.” The smile he gives is genuine, and it makes the tension in your chest ease up a little. He raises his shot glass between the two of you, “We’ve got more important business right now!”  

You respond with a softer smile, lifting yours as well. “-Okay, okay..cheers.”  

“Bottoms up, bitch.” Leone is the last to slot his glass into the circle, each of you laughing as you clink your shots together, lick the salt from the rim, and toss the liquid back. 

The tequila goes down without a fight, sparking your nerves with a thrill that you know will come to haunt you sooner rather than later. Before you can even set your glass down, Bruno is already ordering another round, nodding his head to the music which seems to grow louder by the second. Within what feel like mere minutes, the three of you are four shots in, and you even take it upon yourself to try one of the special edition cocktails they were selling for this week's event. It’s more fruity syrups than it is alcohol, but the little ball of flashing light at the bottom and the edible glitter inside of it makes up for the taste.  

Bruno gets his fingers around your straw when you glance away for the briefest second, giggling as he keeps the drink just out of your reach so that he can take a few sips of his own.  

“Hmmm...more tart than I expected it to be.” He sighs. “Not half bad though. Maybe I should get one of my own..”  

You smile and shake your head, reclaiming the glass. “I think you should time-out for a bit. The night is young, no need to rush the buzz.”   

“Not to mention you’ve already bitten off more than you can usually chew..” Leone comments with a smirk, leaving a glowing purple stain on the others cheek as he kisses him.  

Bruno folds his arms defensively, but his lips still have a small curve to them as he turns around to face his partner. “You drink like a sailor, and no one bats an eye.”  

“That’s ‘cause I can handle myself afterwards. You on the other hand..”  

“-Lightweight-” You cough into your fist.  

“Oh, whatever! I can ‘handle’ myself perfectly fine...besides, even if I can’t, Leone always knows the perfect way to tame me..”  

Bruno’s words are somewhat proven by the way Leone’s arm remains hooked around his waist, and he complies willingly when Bruno leans his head back for a kiss.  

“Uhmm, gross?” Your face twists in playful disgust at the display.  

“Envy is not a good look on you.” Bruno chuckles, crossing one of his legs over the other. Leone remains close, kissing the man's temple and some parts of his neck, leaving him covered in lipstick.  

“I’m just saying, have some decency. Your lap dog looks just about ready to dive his hands beneath your skirt at a moment's notice.” You grumble, taking another gulp of your drink.  

He shrugs, “Well, no one’s telling you to watch.”  

You furrow your brows, glancing away quickly. “My God, I hate you.”  

Bruno’s hands shoot out to grab your sleeve, tugging as he laughs. His drunken smile is way too cute, impossible to stay mad at. “Hey, hey, I’m kiddingg-! You know I’d never...especially not in a place like this.”  

“Yeah, whatever..”  

He purses his lips, dissatisfied with your conceding response. He ponders for a moment, glancing back at the dance floor before giving your arm another tug. “Look.. how about we do some cruising?”  

Your mouth dives into a frown around your straw at his suggestion. “...you can’t be serious.”  

“Do I look as though I’m joking?”  

...Indeed, Bruno has a rather resolute expression on his face, his brows firmly set, eyes just wide enough to show his conviction.  

“You know the saying; the best way to get over one is to get under another, mm?”  

He had a way of getting what he wanted out of anyone, stranger or not. Fortunately for him, you weren’t in the mood to argue. You draw in a deep breath, wedging your thumb into your forehead before sitting up straight, and turning fully towards him.  

“Okay, fine. But I’m making you two do all the work for me.”  

“Oh, trust me, you’re in great hands.” Bruno winks, shifting on his stool until he’s facing the bustling crowd, prompting you to do the same. He narrows his eyes and taps his chin as he looks over all the potential contenders. Leone follows suit, shielding his eyes from the lights and covering whatever ground Bruno doesn’t.  

At the very least, you were grateful that they were trying their best to keep you in high spirits. It wasn’t their job to do so, and they very well could have let you third wheel for the entire night, but instead they’re doing...this. It feels nice, knowing that you can always rely on them.  

“Ouu...what about him? Hot pink pumps, to your right.” Bruno points, guiding your attention.  

The character in question was almost half-naked, wearing what looked like a bright green bikini set that was definitely too small for him, paired with lacy pink thigh-high tights that matched his shoes. He has light purple hair cut asymmetrically, and some futuristic looking visor over his eyes. You tilt your head, looking him up and down, briefly considering. If nothing else, he sure did have a nice pair of legs.  

“...Cute, but he’s giving me a strange vibe.”  

Bruno rolls his eyes. “How can you catch a ‘vibe’ from all the way over here? Ridiculous.”  

As if overhearing your conversation, the stranger ends up locking eyes with you, a smirk appearing on his face before he licks his lips predatorily.  

You shiver. “Nope, it’s totally there. Next.”  

Bruno sighs, but dutifully returns to his surveying. “Okay, then...how about blondie over there?” 

The next man put under your curious gazes is deliciously tall with pale blonde hair scaling his back that sways as he moves, sporting a tight red jumpsuit and a variety of glowsticks around his wrists. 

“He’s pretty.” Bruno adds, looking for your approval. “You like pretty boys, don't you??”  

You rub your hand against your jaw. There was a slight hitch in this particular selection. “Sure, I do but..I don’t think he’s up for grabs.”  

Turning his head back to the man, Bruno grimaces at the downright murderous glare that another patron is giving the three of you; some red head with a snarl sharp enough to make a baby sob at first sight. The possessive type,you presume.  

“Talk about intense...Guess a threesome’s off the table then?”  

“Jesus, Bruno-”  

Your friend holds his hands up in surrender before folding them in his lap. “Just looking at all sides of the coin here, alright? I’m not letting you leave this place without at least one worthwhile interaction.”  

You massage the bridge of your nose between your fingers, speaking wearily, “Okay sure..but I think we need to step out of the box a little. Trying to shoot for my type is obviously getting us nowhere-”  

“How about him?”  

Leone’s voice breaks through your haphazard strategizing, causing both you and Bruno to look at him in mild shock. For what it was worth, it seemed he’d actually taken his time seeking someone out, but you still brace yourself for another failed suggestion. Once again, your eyes follow the direction of his pointed finger out towards the thrashing bodies, landing on- 

..Huh.  

Well, it certainly wasn’t what you were expecting, but maybe that was a good thing. You lean back against the bar top, brow lifted with intrigue. A wildly energetic man dances at the center of the floor, wearing a purple crop top with indigo trim, cross hatched with white stripes to create wide diamond shapes. The sleeves have been cut off, allowing him to show off his strong arms, and the glow-in-the-dark tiger stripes that he’s painted on them. As for his pants..well, they’re basically nonexistent: the white shorts have that same tiger pattern but in black, cut so high above his thighs that if he jumps too high, his ass cheeks might poke out. Really, it leaves absolutely nothing to the imagination.  

You’re momentarily confused as to why he’s wearing a hat in the club, especially since he’s practically in the ‘eye of the storm’ so to speak, but at the same time it feels like his outfit wouldn’t be complete without it. You track his face as he twirls around, subconsciously wondering what his eyes might look like beneath those shades he’s wearing.  

“Well? Thoughts?” Leone is already smirking in accomplishment, looping his arm around Bruno’s neck, who speaks up before you can.  

“’Looks a bit rough around the edges. A little trashy, even.” His words sound judgmental, but his expression seems admiring.   

You hold your chin in your hand, lips pulled askew. “Dunno..trashy isn’t always bad. He’s definitely an attention grabber.”  

“That’s true..” Bruno hums in agreement, leaning forward with his elbows on his knee. “If you haven’t got any gripes about him, then you should go for it. Don’t let me stop you.”  

You suck your teeth, fingers clenching into a fist. Suddenly, the prospect of approaching the attractive stranger was making your stomach twist. It’s not like you didn’t know how to put the moves on a guy when you wanted to, but you feel like you don’t have your usual spark. On top of that, you’re not sure if you could handle the possible rejection with the state you’re in now. Leone side-eyes you, noticing the confliction in your frown. He raises his hand from around Bruno to tap your shoulder, speaking clearly,  

“Hey. Think about it; you’ve really got nothing to lose. If he isn’t interested? Fine, we’ll find someone else. Don’t get yourself down in the dumps before you’ve given it a chance.”  

More than hating that he was being entirely reasonable, you hated that the statement was actually giving you courage. Despite this smidge of motivation, you felt glued to your seat, like you couldn’t take the first step of your own volition.  

“..I don’t know..maybe I should just wait and see if he notices me staring first..”  

“What, so then he can pin you as a creep? Besides, he’s too busy dancing to notice anything but his own two feet.” Bruno notes.  

“Okay, fair but-!”  

“Oh my god, get the hell up!” Leone hits your shoulder with more force, causing your body to jerk and scramble away in such a way that gets you right out of your stool. Bruno doesn’t let you sit back down either, pushing you gently towards the crowd.  

“Wait-I’m not ready!”  

“And you never will be. Just be yourself, and all will be fine! We’ll be right here if you need us.” 

With a final shove, you’re separated from your friends, left only to look back at their satisfied smiles as you get sucked into the whirlwind that is the dance floor. You want to shake your fists vigorously at them, give them a piece of your mind, but decide it's better if you don’t embarrass yourself in front of literally everyone. Your best bet is to try blending in; you begin side-stepping and jouncing your shoulders to the music, nervously shiftingyourself in the direction of your ‘target.’ For a moment, you lose sight of him, perks of getting bumped into every few seconds, sending you into just the slightest panic that totally doesn’t have your palms sweating, and the word ‘bail’ echoing in your head..  

But the Universe, of course, wouldn’t let you get away so easily. Your back smacks into that of another dancer, but as you turn to apologize for getting in their way.. 

“Argh- My bad, didn’t see ya’ there!”  

... 

He’s certainly hotter up close.  

Your tongue falls flat, whatever statement you’d been trying to make slipping away in an instant. Upon seeing what must be your dumbfounded expression, the man doesn’t turn away, instead continuing to dance as he looks you up and down. As if to get a better look, he lowers his glowing shutter glasses.  

“..’You good, man?” He asks with a questioning smirk, speaking loudly over the music.  

You try to swallow down all the excuses coming to mind, recounting Leone’s words. “Yeah-yeah I’m fine. Sorry for fucking up your flow.” You laugh, the sound awkwardly quiet and forced.  

“Eh, no sweat. When you’re a professional like me, it’s easy to catch the beat.” He pushes his glasses back up, a wider smile on his face.  

You raise a brow “Professional? For real? Impressive.”  

He chuckles like you’d said something stupid. “Hell, I wish. I do think I’ve got some killer moves though.”  

You feel a little relief. This guy was making things easy for you...he’s talkative, not afraid to brag a little. Good..as long as he isn’t the quiet type, you’ve got a bit of wiggle room.  

Realizing you’ve been standing practically still since he began speaking to you, you start dancing as well. “Yeah, I think so too. Been watching for a minute...honestly I’m surprised your legs are still intact.” 

“Watching you say? Well, then you should know I’ve taken enough shots to keep my system running for the next 48 hours, eh?”  

You smile, knowing you were somewhat in the same boat. “Sounds about right.” An idea comes to you then, the tiniest opening that you’d be damned to not exploit. “..Mind if I join you? I’ve got quite a bit of energy to spare myself.” 

Bruno would be so proud if he could hear you now.  

The stranger smirks, glancing around. “Considering my other partner ditched me...I don’t think I’d mind one bit.”  

You breathe out, anxiety fading away. So long as you don’t make an ass of yourself here, this might actually work. You unbutton the cuffs of your sleeves, rolling them up to your elbows for some better range of motion, trying to really get into the groove. Just as they’re exposed, he takes hold of one of your wrists, strapping one of his neon bracelets around it.  

You raise your brow at him. “-What’s this for?”  

“So I don’t lose sight of you, of course. This place’s like a death trap if you ain’t careful.”  

“Ah..” It felt more like he’d laid claim on you, but you shake that thought from your head quickly, smiling down at the little band. “Thanks..and uh-probably should’ve asked this first but, what’s your name?”  

“It’s Mista!” He replies excitedly, as if you’d been the only one to ask the entire night. “Or Guido, if you wanna get formal. Either’s fine with me!”  

Your smile grows a little. “Nice to meet you, Mista.”  

“Yeah, you too, cutie!”  

Probably too drunk to realize, Mista never reciprocates the question, which should worry you..but hearing him call you cute was enough to satisfy you for the moment.  

You work up a sweat trying to keep up with Mista’s sporadic and carefree movements, all in the hopes of not losing his interest. He’s like an animal, really, moving on pure instinct, which you find to be eerily attractive.  

“God, sometimes I feel like Timberlake just gets me, yknow?” He shouts, linking his arm over your shoulder.  

You chuckle and nod, “You’ve certainly got that playboy attitude down pact.”  

“Think so? I’ve been workin’ on it, honest.” Mista leans his head against yours.  

“Mm..you’re a natural, baby.” You fumble the last word, cheeks warm with caution. 

But Mista seems flattered regardless, smirking and leaning his weight further into you. “Seems you ain’t so bad yourself.”  

He pulls away, grabbing at your hands and curling his fingers around yours so that you both move in unison, back to dancing like nothing had happened. You’re partially grateful, as he makes it easy for you to brush off your mistake, but you mentally remind yourself that you’ve got to step up your game at some point.  

The DJ continues to play what could be a miles long list of different music artists, throwing some EDM in the mix with the usual Pop hits and a few classics from the late 80’s to give everyone a bit of what they wanted, a true melting pot. Though, everything has been so high tempo, you feel like you haven’t had a real chance to catch your breath...and anyone with a brain knows that asphyxiation and inebriation are not usually a good combination. You consider stepping off the floor for a minute, just to get some fresh air, maybe even catch up with Leo and Bruno, but you also really don’t want to leave Mista’s side. He’s so captivating; it’d almost be a disservice to take your eyes off of him for even a second.  

Almost as if smelling your dilemma in the air, the DJ finally decides to play something slower. Not just slow, but awfully sensual as well. The overhead lights dim down to a stable blood orange, no longer flashing, but instead revolving over the crowd like a wave. The energy in the room doesn’t exactly die down, but its charge becomes a lot more...intimate. If everyone was close before, they were definitely a lot closer now; people grabbing hold of their lovers and friends alike, committing to more fluid and alluring movements.  

You find out very quickly that Mista is no exception to this sudden change. No, in fact, he was made for it. He eases himself out of your grasp, his previous motions going down to his hips, arms moving to frame a perfect perimeter of space around himself. Shit, maybe he really is a professional. Your eyes flick down to those shorts again when he turns around, and you tug at your shirt collar when you’re face to face with an ass that sits a little too nicely. You’d be a moron to let him get away from you now.  

You toss your apprehension somewhere off to the side, sliding up behind the man and gently slipping your fingers into his beltloops. Mista doesn’t flinch not one bit, but he does glance over his shoulder with a small smirk, as if waiting to see what you’ll do next...as if he knows what he’s doing to you. You huff a small laugh at the thought, pulling him towards you until your chest meets his back, hips meet his ass, before you’re swaying in sync again.  

“Knew you had it in ya’.” Mista quips, reaching behind to grab one of your hands and place it against his waist.  

“You were waiting on..me?”  

“Duh? You’ve been gawking at me all night, no way you were gonna step-off from an opportunity like this.”  

You should be ashamed by his observation, but it’s hilarious in it’s own way. “Fair. But you’re intimidating..can’t blame me for being a little hesitant.”  

Mista lays his head back on your shoulder, only to show you the way he screws his face up at your comment. “Intimidating? What’s there to be scared of, I’m just livin' it up here.”  

You shake your head, “You’ve just got a certain..aura, I guess. Like you’re untouchable. It’s even more intense up close like this..”  

His expression fades into something more pleased. “You’ve got a funny way of complimenting people.”  

You trail your fingers against his side, shrugging lightly. “I could stop, if you’d like.”  

Mista grins, “Bastard, don’t you dare. You’re like, the only guy who’s stayed with me tonight. I’ll take whatever I can get.”  

The admission makes you frown a bit, “I remember you mentioning that earlier...what’s up with that?”  

He waves it off, facing forward again. “Hell if I know. Most only stuck around for a friendly interaction, or a little making out..”  

Listening to him, you feel a little guilty, knowing you too had approached him for the idea of getting a quick lay. Worse that you were doing it to get over your ex. But...it didn’t have to stay that way. You did have some genuine interest in the guy.  

“That’s awful.”  

“Eh, I’m already over it. I’ve got better company now..” Mista chuckles to himself, raising his finger to trace along your jaw. He hums as he watches you lean into it.  

God damn it. Maybe it was the alcohol that was making you so easy, or just your overall exhaustion from dancing but...you’re hooked on his every move. He begins to roll his body back against yours in time with the music, sending a jolt through your core.  

“Glad I could be of service, then.” You mumble, moving your hands down to his hips and giving them a small squeeze. “Feels like I just got lucky, though..” 

“Aye, what’s so wrong with that? You should be over the moon if Lady Luck is on your side!”  

“..Huh?” 

“I’m sayin’ you should be grateful for luck’s grace. She doesn’t show up for just anyone, so that means you must hold good fortune..”   

The tone he takes with you is genuine, and you blink a little at his adamance, trying to think of something to steer the conversation back in the right direction. “..Uh..yeah, you’re right. Not every day I get my hands on a guy ashot as you.”  

“Yeah?” Mista’s smile returns, a hint of mischief in it. “I’d bet not, perv.”  

If it was meant to be an insult, it has the opposite effect, a slight tingle spreading along your palms. “..Have I gotten too-”  

“Nah..” He cuts you off, bringing his hand to your cheek to turn your face to his. “..I don’t mind. Touch as much as you wanna.”  

Your jaw drops pathetically, some dormant urge suddenly awakening within you. Trying to save face, you pull your bottom lip between your teeth, brows drawn together as you stare at him. “I am like..painfully into you.”  

He laughs, tilting his head to the side. “Are you? Can’t tell with the way your hands are trembling, like you’re scared or somethin’.”  

You hadn’t noticed it at first, but his mention of it brings you to a shameful awareness. Indeed, your fingers shake lightly against the flat of his hips, as if ignorant of the lust currently pooling in your brain.  

"Not scared..well, maybe a little. ‘Wanna make sure I’m not doing anything to startle you..” You mutter, having just enough sense to re-fasten your grip on him, one hand now making a pass over the warm leather of his belt.  

“What, you think I’m fragile? I can handle anything you throw my way....wait, does that make me sound like a skank?” He frowns. 

You snicker at his randomness. “..Kinda. But hey, nothing wrong with knowing your limits.”  

He seems consoled by your assertion, relaxing in your hold. “Yeah..exactly. Point is, I ain’t built like a brick wall for nothin’. I’m not a fan of the gentle crap..too boring..”  

“Mm..” You nod along as his words begin to slur, eyes turned up at him while your palm slides against his stomach, grazing over a thick patch of curly hair.  

His overall frame is indeed very solid, toned muscles covered by a decent layer of chub, especially around his chest and legs. Makes your mouth water a bit. Maybe it was the alcohol finally catching up to you, but you wanted nothing more than to grab and squeeze at every inch of him, watch your fingers sink in and see his face contort in a strange pleasure... 

“I’m not so well versed in being ‘rough’, but I can try...for you.” You whisper. 

Mista sighs, leaning himself more firmly against you. “Yeah? That’d make me feel realll special, baby. Hit me with the best that you’ve got, and maybe you’ll get even luckier tonight..”  

That pet name rolls so easily off his tongue..he should be ashamed. As should you, with your lopsided smile, excitement threatening to clog your arteries.  “..That a challenge I’m hearing?”  

Mista's teeth flash beneath a passing red light. “Damn straight it is.”  

Pride and competition have a funny way of eliminating one’s anxiety. “...Bet.”  

Your body whirrs with adrenaline, hand still wobbling as you raise it to his chin. Behind his shades, you can tell Mista has his eyes focused on you, his smirk nowhere near disappearing as he waits for you to make a move. Screw him for being so fine. You turn Mista’s face towards yours, guiding him forward until your lips brush against each other. He teases you, letting your bottom lips touch for a split second before pulling his head back a little, to which you give chase. You narrow your eyes, trying not to pout, but he only stares with a raised brow. Cleary he was trying to get a rise out of you...but you find his behavior more adorable than aggravating.  

Still, you give him what he wants; tugging his chin back towards you, this time leaving no room for him to jerk away. Your lips finally press together in a hurried clash, the kiss completely void of congeniality. Despite you initiating, Mista has control over every movement, his tongue being the first to slip it’s way past your teeth to probe and relish in the warmth of your mouth. He doesn’t stop grinding against you all the while, deliberately swaying and pushing his hips into your crotch, somehow still in tune with the music. You’d find time to be impressed about it later, as right now all you can think of is how fucked you are for this guy already.  

With his lips captured, you focus your hands back on his body, trailing your fingers along the edge of his shorts, silently reveling at how the fabric strains around his legs. Mista shifts when your knuckles sweep against the skin of his inner thigh, heaving a little sigh that vibrates against you. You don’t have to be a rocket scientist to recognize that he’s sensitive there, so you abuse your newfound knowledge by grabbing a handful of his upper thigh, giving it a tight squeeze while you nip at his lip. You’re dually satisfied when Mista arches against you, a groan sounding at the back of his throat.  

He swallows hard, but hardly stops to smile before diving back in to kiss you harder, laying his hand on top of yours for encouragement. Your heart feels like it could jump out of your chest, all this incoming stimulation almost too much to handle. Mista appears to be in the same boat, his pulse so palpable throughout his entire body; you can even feel it on his tongue. You wrap your unoccupied arm around his midsection, hand slowly slipping underneath his crop top to gently caress the soft skin of his ribs, causing him to press further into you. He’s practically hot to the touch, torso dampened with lingering sweat.  

“So warm..” You break away to say, now kissing the shell of his ear.  

Mista’s chuckle is caught on what you think might’ve been a moan. “That’s what hours of dancing will do to ya..”  

“No kiddin’.” You huff.  

He tilts his head up willingly as you lean forward to kiss his jaw, your lips tingling against the stubble that he’s allowed to grow there. Finally finding your own rhythm, you begin trailing kisses down the side of his neck, leaving blotches of red against his bronze skin along with small bites here and there. Not enough to pierce him, but definitely enough to leave small indents. Your hands continue to roam, crossing his love handles and tracing over the tiger stripes painted on his arms with a quiet tone of desire and need. Mista seems to be losing hold of his cool demeanor if the way he grabs at his hat is any indicator, 

“You ain’t so bad at this...” He breathes out, chewing on a whine when your nails drag along his abdomen.  

“Yeah, and you’re easier to break than I thought you’d be.” You try to hold back your smile, but the way he’s reacting is giving you a bit of an ego boost.  

“Dunno what the hell you mean..I’ve still got this shit on lock.” He smirks down at you wearily.  

You hum and press a little closer against his back, moving your hand to grope the space just below his belt buckle where his shorts are swallowed by his thighs. Expectedly, Mistas hips buck up into your palm like they’resentient, giving away his true position in the matter. Admittedly, it makes your own pants feel a bit tighter.  

“On lock? Kinda seems like you’re just about ready to give it up..”  

He sucks his teeth, embarrassed by the way his body betrayed him. “I blame the alcohol.”

It isn’t long after that that Mista is leading you off the dance floor, the two of you mushing through the crowd hand in hand. The DJ resumes his usual set, bringing back that original erratic flow that had everyone on their last breaths earlier, which only makes it harder to find a good break in the sea of people. Just when you think you’ve made it out in one piece though, you hear a familiar voice shouting at you from afar few feet away. 

“We knew you could do ittt!”  

You freeze, whipping your head around to see Bruno waving his arms at you, grinning wide. Leone stands behind him, pumping his fist to the music, but also apparently in solidarity with Bruno’s statement. You want to shrink into oblivion to the point of no return. Mista barks out a laugh, pointing at the couple with a raised brow.  

“You know them?”  

“...Friends of mine.” You grumble. Tomorrow, you’d be sure to give the two a piece of your mind.  

Mista smiles. “They seem nice! Veryyy supportive.”  

You resist rolling your eyes, tugging his hand to get his feet moving again. “Yeah, something like that...cmon, I’ll catch up with them later.”  

“Eh? You sure? I can wait a little bit if you wanna talk to ‘em.”  

You glance over your shoulder one more time, regretting it as soon as you see Bruno making a lewd gesture with his hands. “Nope. Totally fine.”  

The farther away you get from the main room, the thinner the crowd gets, reduced to small friend groups spread out and in their own worlds. Mista seems to know the layout of the club like the back of his hand, hardly as confused as you are when navigating the two of you to the far side of the building. But there was one thing you knew for sure-- 

“Isn’t the washroom in the opposite direction..?”  

Mista scrunches his face as if offended by the comment. “You wanna fuck in the bathroom..? What kinda man do you take me for?”  

“..Shit, sorry..I mean-you don’t exactly strike me as the refined type..”  

He snickers, “Nobody ever told you about not judgin' a book by it’s cover?”  

Cliche, but true. “..My bad.”  

“Aye, no need to get all sober about it. It’s cool..plus, I’m taking us somewhere even better.” Mista wiggles his eyebrows playfully, bringing a small smile back to your face.  

After speaking briefly to what you assume is a security guard of some sort, Mista shoulders open a large metal door, quickly dragging you in behind him. He holds your hand tight, the other keeping his hat in place as he takes you up a staircase that you never knew existed. The space is bathed in blacklight, highlighting the colorful graffiti tactfully scribbled on the brick walls around you. Your footsteps echo loudly in time with a now muffled tune, indicating you two were the only ones back here. Mista takes you up two levels, perhaps for good measure, stopping on one of the landings and pushing you back against the wall with a certain force that has your head spinning.  

Even as he rears closer, your eyes are still darting around, trying to get a feel for where the hell you are.  

“Is this...the fucking fire escape?”  

Mista pins a hand against the wall beside your head, the other taking off his shutter glasses. “Sure is. Neat, right?”  

Your gaze lands on him again, that sultry smirk of his, and now...his big brown eyes. Finally being under a stable light source, you can really admire the other features of his face..like his thick eyebrows and the little divots inhis cheeks...Dimples. Too cute. Seems he is a pretty boy after all.  

The realization makes your nerves spike again, and you stumble over your words. “S..Seriously? You’d fuck in a stairwell, but not the bathroom? Sounds contradictory.”  

He hooks his thumb into his shorts, tilting his head. “What? Come on, this place is ten times more sanitary.”  

“.withering concrete and glowing paint. Sanitary...right.” You say with a smile.  

Mista sighs. “Gimmie a break! Beggers can’t be choosers, aight? You’re welcome to leave if it’s not to your standards.” 

You shake your head, reaching out to lay your hand against his side. “What, after all the work I put in to woo you? No chance.”  

“Didn’t think so. Besides..no one will see us here, so we can get up to whatever we wanna.” He asserts, smiling as his lips are drawn to your neck, kissing the skin reverently.  

You chew your lip, hand now set on his back to keep him close. “You sound pretty sure of that... D’you bring a lot of guys here?”  

“Why, you jealous?” Mista’s soft chuckle sends a ripple of electricity through you. His banter is so effortless...it should be the absolute last thing that turns you on, but alas.. 

“’Course not..just curious..” You mutter.  

“Uhuh..so you say..” Mista hums and drags his lips along the underside of your jaw, free hand pressing against your stomach. His fingers slink beneath your shirt, making you squirm. “I don’t come here that often so...consider yourself special.”  

“Wow..I’m touched.”  

Had your brain been anymore scrambled with intoxication, you might’ve let yourself believe him without question. Though, your sarcasm only seems to rouse him, his knee nudging your legs apart so that he can slot himself closer. He consumes your gasp with a sloppy kiss, kickstarting the beat of your heart once more as his tongue fights for the attention of your own, to which you have no desire to refuse. You slide your hands down and aroundhis back until they settle over his ass cheeks; the way they fill your palms, so plump and malleable, you feel obligated to give them a generous squeeze.  

“Mmh-” Mista grunts and bites down on your bottom lip, breaths stuttering.  

You smile with a sort of pride, licking your way back into his mouth. Mista is just as eager to match your fervor, the kiss devolving into chaos in mere seconds. He moans and jitters the more you continue to fondle him, growing surprisingly vocal at even the smallest addition of pressure. You aren’t doing much better, panting pathetically and trying to clutch onto every bit of him that you can, as if that will somehow save you from being drowned in his passion. In reaching for the back of his head, you accidentally knock off his hat, revealing curly, dark hair that’s cropped just above his ears. Despite it being a bit damp, you pass your fingers through it, grip it, hold him as close as possible.  

Mista breaks to catch his breath, “Jesus christ—where have you been all my life? ’Feels like you’re trying to devour me.”  

Your eyelids flutter, and all you can think to say is, “..I am pretty hungry.”  

“..Ah?”  

Mista has only a split second to register the words before you grab him by the shoulder, using the brief pause as leverage to flip your positions, his back now against the wall. His eyes widen considerably, but he doesn’t recoil or complain. No, he doesn’t struggle in the slightest when you lift up his crop-top the rest of the way, exposing his bare chest to the warm air that surrounds you. In fact, he kindly holds the fabric up for you, giving what you assume is permission.  

Thoughts of your ex are so far removed from your mind now, you don’t even have the urge to question your own morals, how wrong it is to be engaging with someone else in this manner after such a recent breakup. Instead, a slur of depraved images shoot through your mind as you stare down at his torso; how you want to slather your lips all over it, squeeze his tits, run your hands over the dispersing pattern of every grove of hair...because damn is there a lot of it. It was only a matter of how far he’ll let you go...  

“Fuck, you’re sexy.” You decide to start by just feeling his body, dragging your knuckles against the length of him while capturing his lips in another soft kiss.  

He chuckles tenaciously, “I’ve been told..”  

He relaxes into your touch, but perks up a little when your hand cups his pec—yet you’re the one to let out a small whimper, horrifyingly aroused by the feeling of the fat seeping through the gaps of your fingers. Mista isn’texempt by any means, making his own erotic sounds into your ear when your middle finger so much as grazes his nipple. It only takes a few passes before it’s practically reaching out for you, hardened and waiting. What kind of man would you be to deny it? Deny him?  

You lower your head and turn your eyes up to Mista, melting beneath his needy stare as you flatten your tongue against his nipple, giving it one slow lick after another, now alternating between both pecs. His laid-back facade crumbles, brows pinched together as he stares with his mouth wide open, letting whiny croaks tumble out. It’s like music to your ears, far better than anything the DJ could’ve spun.  

His back bows off the brick wall as your tongue swirls in tight circles, and he bites down on his finger as if that will keep him from making anymore noise. It does not.  

“Shit..didn’t even know I was into this..” Mista is unsure of where to put his other hand, clear by the way he awkwardly latches it onto your shoulder.  

You simply smile and close your mouth around him, beginning a gentle sucking at the flesh, causing him to stutter out a rough moans, head now thrown back. You fear you could watch him like this forever, the way his lips quiver, and his long lashes flutter against reddened cheeks. But you also know that there’s so much more that you want to get around to... You allow yourself the pleasure of kissing, biting, and grasping his tits one last time, before forcing yourself off. His skin is left shimmering wet and slightly swollen, but that seems to be the least of his concerns.  

“Why’d you stop?” He sighs heavily, almost glaring at you. “Bored already?”  

“Nowhere near it. It's just..my mouth’s more useful for other things..” You quirk your brow, setting your hands on his hips before slowly starting to lower yourself. 

Mista blinks, and barely lets your knee hit the ground before he’s shaking his head and laughing. “Woah, woah, aye, the hell are you doing?”  

You stop in your tracks, staring confusedly. “...Was gonna give you head..?”  

He smirks slyly, tapping your chin. “Uh-uh, that’s a cop out. Off your knees, big guy...want you to fuck me proper.”  

Your stomach flips upside down, and you swear your vision goes blurry. Of all the things you suspected would come out of his mouth, it wasn’t..that. You swallow hard, fingers trembling as you make to stand again, guided by his persistent touch on your jaw. Your speechlessness clearly entertains him, as that smile of his only spreads further. He coaxes you back into his space, slipping his arm around your neck and hooking his thigh around your hip. Your hand moves instinctively to hold it up, and you’re drawn in by his hypnotizing gaze until your mouths end up pressed together once more.  

Mista grinds against you, a slow drag of bulging fabric along your front that has your mind buzzing with lust. You aren’t sure if you’ll even make it to taking off your damn pants—you don’t want to lose these intoxicating sensations for even a millisecond. You slant your hips forward in time with his own, the two of you no longer kissing, but more so breathing into each other’s open mouths.  

“’M not gonna last if we keep on like this..” You whisper.  

Mista’s forehead falls to your shoulder, his voice low and shaky. “Yeah..just a little longer though..”  

There was no room left to discuss it. “Mh..okay..”  

You reach down for Mista’s other leg, hauling it up so that you’re holding him against the wall by his thighs. He whines against your neck, crossing his ankles around your back to keep himself securely suspended. The position allows your bodies to remain in constant contact, your barred erections feeding off the equally euphoric and discomforting friction. It’d be a miracle if you walked away from this without any chafing.  

The slow grind morphs into a desperate, staccato thrusting on your part, and Mista can do little more than cling to you, curling a fist into your shirt as his head is thrown back once more. His moans echo through the stairwell, mixing with yours to spiral throughout the space and completely overtake whatever already muffled background music that had been playing. You can feel your arms growing tired, knees a little weak, but nowhere in your mind do you plan on stopping.  

“Fuck-fuck yes-God, please..” Mista stammers, covering his mouth with the back of his hand. “More- g’me more-”  

Your nails dig into the flesh of his thighs, eyes feebly locked onto his face as you whimper, humping him like a man starved for far too long. Seeing this, he pushes himself forward to kiss you yet again, returning that same level of greed in the flick of his tongue. It’s anything but controlled, and you soon feel a bit of drool running down your chin..but from whom, you’re not sure.  

“Think I’m gonna cum-” You blurt, bumping your teeth against his in the process. The realization had hit you way sooner than expected, and lord knows you’d never been good at trying to force a delay upon yourself.  

You expect him to protest, but Mista doesn’t even stop to speak, just nods as he anchors his arms further around your neck. And it wasn’t like you needed his permission...but somehow, having it made it so much hotter. As that flurry feeling begins setting your lower half on fire, your hips press hard into his, both of you jerking against each other until a final drag does you in. You should be embarrassed by the pitchy sound that escapes your throat as you come, but you’re too busy being buried by relief to care. Mista’s climax is soon to follow, his calves trembling against you, moans waning on your lips as his hips come to a grating halt.  

“Ugh..” A string of saliva connects your lips as he pulls back for air, warm breaths still littered with quiet whines.  

You close your eyes and sigh, leaning your head into the crux of his neck. The feeling of soiled jeans is something you hadn’t had the misfortune of experiencing since you were probably a teenager...needless to say, you didn’tmind it all that much at the moment.  

“..So much for fuckin’ you proper...” You murmur, mentally kicking yourself for getting so carried away.  

Mista laughs hoarsely, patting your back. “Hey, I ain’t mad...shit was amazing.”  

You hum, still feeling as though you gave him a pretty lackluster experience. If he claimed to have enjoyed it though, you weren’t going to argue...especially considering it was one of the best orgasms you’d had in a while. And that’s saying a lot.  

After taking a second to let your heart calm down, you carefully set Mista’s legs down on the floor again, crouching down to fix his shorts for him. Admittedly, you’re still thinking about what it would’ve been like to suck him off...in fact there were many things that you still wanted to do to him and for him. Unfortunately, you have too much dignity and are feeling way too exhausted to make any of this known. So, you give his inner thigh a little parting kiss before standing again, and adjusting your own clothes.  

Mista smiles shyly, scratching his cheek. “You’re a real interesting guy.” 

Dusting off your shirt, you raise a brow. “..Interesting?”  

He bends over to pick up his hat, a sinful view that should have you backtracking. “Can’t put my finger on it but...I think I like you.” Indeed, he says it as if it’s a question to himself. 

“Pretty straightforward way of putting it..” You try to play it cool, folding your arms against your chest.  

He shrugs. “No need to beat around the bush. But uh...Listen..” Mista approaches again, setting his hands on your waist with a small grin. “I can tell you’re pretty bummed at how things ended here so...maybe you can ‘make it up to me’ some other time?” 

If only he could see the rainbows and sunshine sprouting in your mind right now.  

You clear your throat. “..Yeah?”  

“Mhm.”  

“..Okay..I’d like that.”  

“Sweet.”  

Mista’s eyes trail over your face one last time, lingering as he digs something out from his pocket, and sticking it into the crease of your elbow. It might’ve been mysterious and cool if the crumpled paper didn’t immediatelyunravel and fall to the ground..but clearly Mista could care less as he’s already heading for the stairs, leaving you blinking stupidly after him.  

“See ‘ya round, cutie.” He throws up a hand, waving goodbye over his shoulder. 

You quickly reach down for the piece of paper, smoothing it out the rest of the way and holding it up to the light:  

‘xxx-xxx-xxxx  

~Guido Mista, available 25/7 Fri-Sat'  

“A fucking homemade business card..” You shake your head with a short laugh, shoving the scrap into your pocket.

Somehow, it seems very on brand for someone like him. Though, the state of the ‘card’ makes you think he had handed it out and taken it back several times...you now being the only one who actually got to keep it. You touch your fingers to your lips, glancing at the staircase where Mista’s footsteps have already stopped clacking, and the bracaelte still glowing on your rist..  

Seems you really do have good fortune after all.  

a/n: My Mista hunger is no where near satiated after this...there will be more in the future, mark my words...

Dividers Credits: Me!! <33

[sxcst3ve1]

HELLOO!!! I'm completely new here but I've been lurking ur page for a few days now and I've reread all your fics so many times and I'm completely obsessed with the way you write 😭❤️❤️ I can't even tell you how many times I've reread all ur fics before going to bed full of joy you truly are a blessing from heaven 🥹

I would also like to mention how amazing it is to find fics with Male reader, I jumped for joy seeing so many mreader fics from you i almost cried

I would also like to ask if we could get anything with Avdol or Weather Report 🥹 if not thats okay because im excited for whatever you post next 😭😭😭❤️❤️❤️

Hello Anon!!

Thank you SOSO much for reading my fics, I'm glad you've enjoyed themmm!! Appreciation from you all always feels extra special, especially with the small m-reader community we have </3 In any case, I'm happy you found my blog, and I hope you stick around for a while!

As for your request... YES ABSOLUTELYYYYY. Im so fucking obsessed with Avdol, I have been wanting to write something for him for so long...PLUS I just finished another rewatch of Stone Ocean, so you bet your ass I'm thirsting over Weather HARD.

Mista fic is nearly done, so after that's posted I'll get right on these!

If there's a particular plot or scenario you'd like me to write, don't hesitate to drop another ask, or just send it in my inbox! o7

[sxcst3ve1]

HAPPY PRIDE MONTHHH

I've never publicly disclosed this on Tumblr, but I am, in fact, a Trans man LMAO. I was always kinda afraid to admit it because there is still a part of me that fears what the internet has to say about my 'transness' so to speak, and I don't want people to think of me differently. But.. it's pride month so I think this is the perfect time to get over that fear!!

Shout out to all my t brothers, anddd shout out to all you queers/allies! Many kisses to you. Everyone is obligated to do at least one super gay thing this month and yes I will be checking.

[sxcst3ve1]

Man, I'm looking at my 3 month(?) old outline for this for this fic, and I feel like I played myself. I put ts on the back burner cause I was like "I'm pretty sure my notes have a good majority of the plot/dialogue pieces covered already."

*looks at notes app*

It's just me thirsting over Mista...

[sxcst3ve1]

Goooooooood Evening Stevenation,

Guess who's about to get super gay and horny about Guido Mista?

[sxcst3ve1]

Thinking about being smushed between Bruno, Mista and Abba rn….

Risotto and Prosciutto?

Caesar and Joseph?

Tiz and Squalo…

Avdol and Polnareff.

Wow maybe being gay IS an illness.

[allthingswhumpyandangsty]

this and also there’s something very beautiful about watching in progress fics grow. shout out to in progress fics <3

[sxcst3ve1]

Grateful to say that this actually happened to me and it’s been a lot of fun. Shout out to you bro, you know who you are 🖤

[sxcst3ve1]

Completely [mostly] unrelated to anything and everything I do/say here, I really feel like I’m reaching a point of true character analysis appreciation (?), thanks to influence of some of my moots.

Specifically I mean Bruno. I mean, obviously I’m a Bruno super fan, and I feel like I understand his character pretty well, but now I’m finding it really interesting to actually…do something with these understandings?

Like, sure, I could wax poetic about my thoughts on Bruno’s character and why I think he behaves the way he does, or how I feel like he’s often mischaracterized, but I don’t feel like that would satisfy me. I’d rather be able to show it in a narrative fashion rather than just say it outright, yknow?

*Bonus points if I get to explore his relationship with other characters.*

Uhmmm TLDR: I love GW, I love Bruno Bucciarati, and I love writing?

[sxcst3ve1]

Okay guys.

Two weeks until the semester ends.

All I have to do is make it through finals week, and then I will write so much my fingers fall off.

[nuno-tan]

Looking for an excuse to draw muscles hehe 😛

[sxcst3ve1]

Hehe here's the drawings of Bruno and mel in dresses btw😛 I lwk got bored and designed a bunch of prom dresses based off of golden wind characters so I put them in their corresponding dresses and they're serving so hard

HOLYY SHITTT WTF.

THESE ARE INSANE. LOOK AT THEM--THEY'RE FUCKING GORGEOUS!!!

This is so awesome I never knew such beauty could grace my inbox. I love, love, LOVE your art style and I love these designs even more. You have some serious talent dude I'm OBSESSED.

[void-lantern]

MISTA IS A NIGGGGGAAAAAAA

[sxcst3ve1]

I WILL DIE ON THIS HILLLLLL