hii hii ♥︎ :3
can i request bucci gang + risotto and illuso with fem!crush reader sitting on their lap cause there's no space inside of a car ? ★
My have goth and gang, it’s a dream come true 😩
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Bruno:
“Professionalism is breaking.”
At first, he's composed. Too composed.
“Ah, of course. No space- please, sit.”
But inside? Chaos. Sweaty palms. Racing heart.
Tries not to make you uncomfortable, keeps his hands respectfully to himself.
You shift slightly and he inhales through his nose like he’s suppressing a demon.
The rest of the gang starts smirking. He gives them a death glare.
“Focus on the mission,” he says. (But his ears are red.)
Abbacchio:
“This is fine. I’m fine. Everyone shut up.”
Grunts a barely-audible “Tch, fine,” when you ask if you can sit on his lap.
Acts totally unbothered but you feel how he tenses up instantly.
His arms are crossed, jaw clenched, and he’s looking out the window like it owes him money.
One shift of your weight and he almost chokes on his own breath.
Narancia snickers. “Leone’s gonna pass out.” Earning a death glare “I WILL eject you from this car.”
Mista:
“I wasn’t ready for this but I love this.”
“H-Hey, yeah! No problem! Make yourself comfy—haha…”
Immediately flustered. His hands? Nowhere to go.
Tries to play it cool and fails miserably.
You shift in his lap and he immediately yelps: “Not like that—!! I mean—You’re fine!! You’re good!!”
The Sex Pistols are cackling in his belt. “BOSSSSS’S IN LOVEEEE~”
“SHUT UP OR I’LL EAT YOU.”
Narancia:
“Brain.exe has stopped working.”
“Y-You wanna sit… on me??”
You explain there’s no space. He nods like a bobblehead. “Y-Yeah!! Sure!! Yep!!”
The second you’re on his lap, he freezes like a statue.
Eyes wide. Breath held. Hands in the air like he’s under arrest.
Accidentally blurts, “You smell really good,” and then wants to jump out of the car.
Spends the entire ride vibrating with flustered energy.
Fugo:
“Someone sedate me.”
“There’s no other seat? At all? Not even the trunk?”
He’s red before you even sit down. The moment you do, he looks like he’s about to spontaneously combust.
Arms stiff at his sides. Face turned toward the window. Breathing like a Victorian woman in distress.
You adjust your position slightly and he goes bright red. “P-Please don’t move. I mean—move if you want!! But like—D-Don’t!!”
Narancia: “Bro’s trying not to die right now.”
Fugo: “I WILL END YOU.”
Giorno:
“I am the calm. I am the cool.”
“There’s no space? Then yes, you may sit here.”
Offers his lap like a gentleman, but you do not miss the tiny twitch in his brow when you settle in.
Very good at hiding his fluster, except for the way his voice goes just slightly lower than usual.
Will place a hand lightly on your waist to steady you if the car turns.
Inside, though? Internally screaming in 7 languages.
Tells himself it’s tactical positioning. It’s not.
Risotto:
“I was not built for this.”
“…There’s truly nowhere else?”
He stares at you silently for a long moment, then opens his arms slightly. “Very well.”
You sit. He tenses. Completely. Hands placed firmly on his thighs. Not moving. Not breathing.
You hear his heartbeat like a war drum.
You shift and feel the pulse in his neck jump.
Completely expressionless, but internally: Error 404: Murder Man Brain Has Crashed.
If you rest your back on his chest? He short circuits and doesn’t speak for the rest of the ride.
Illuso:
“This is exactly what I wanted, and I was not ready.”
Grins when you ask. “There’s no room? Shame~ Looks like I’m your throne.”
He thinks he’s smooth until you actually sit.
Now he’s biting his lip and keeping very still.
“You’re light,” he says casually. But his entire body is buzzing under you.
If you shift or sigh? “Oh, you’re trying to kill me now. Okay.”
Will flirt the whole ride…until you lean back on him without a word. That shuts him right up.
