#jjba imagines

[adeadcreator]

lowkey, one bed trope w jjba characters 👀 if u can

Yes of course!!

Jonathan:

Sweet boy immediately panics.

“O–oh! There’s only one bed? I’ll sleep on the floor, of course!”

He builds a full pillow barricade and offers you every blanket like he’s protecting your honor.

He still apologizes every 30 seconds for existing.

You wake up and he’s still perfectly on his side, hands crossed over his chest like a polite vampire.

If you so much as roll over, he blushes so hard you can feel the heat radiating.

The next morning he’s like, “I hope I didn’t make you uncomfortable,” and you’re like, “You were three feet away and said goodnight twice.”

Joseph:

Instant grin. “Heh, one bed, huh? Guess the universe ships us.”

Pretends it’s a joke… then totally sprawls across half the mattress.

Keeps making stupid commentary “I snore, by the way. Loudly. Sexy, right?”

If you grumble, he’s like, “Oh come on, doll, I’ll stay on my side- probably.”

Halfway through the night he ends up clinging to you like a koala.

In the morning he swears it was for “warmth” but the way he’s smiling says otherwise.

“Hey, don’t tell Caesar, but you’re a way better cuddle partner.”

Jotaro:

“Tch. Whatever.”

Says nothing, acts unbothered, but you can feel the tension.

Lies flat on his back like a board, hat still on.

You accidentally brush his arm and he stiffens like he’s been electrocuted.

“...move over, y/n, you’re hogging the blanket.”

You: “You have 80% of it.”

You both silently tug war over the blanket all night.

In the morning you’re tangled together, his arm around your waist, and when you stir he mutters, half-asleep “Five more minutes…”

He’ll deny it till death. “You dreamed that.”

Josuke:

His brain blue-screens. “ONE BED?! UH- uh, yeah, yeah, sure, no biggie, ha-ha…”

He’s blushing so hard his pompadour could light the room.

Piles every pillow in the center as a “boundary line.”

Ten minutes later: “Are you comfy? You cold? You need another blanket?”

You both end up laughing until you forget to be nervous.

He’s a clingy sleeper and accidentally pulls you close in his sleep, wakes up mortified.

“I–I didn’t mean to grab you! I was dreamin’ about my hair products, I swear!”

You: “Sure, Josuke. Sure.”

Giorno:

Unbothered king. “We can share. I don’t mind.”

Perfectly polite, calm… but when you lay down next to him, his composure cracks just a little.

Keeps exactly twelve inches between you because he’s trying to be respectful.

You wake up and there’s a golden butterfly hovering over you, keeping the blanket tucked in place.

Giorno, softly: “You looked cold. I didn’t wish to disturb you.”

His voice at night is all soft Italian and it’s almost more dangerous than anything else.

He smells like expensive cologne and citrus, and you fall asleep faster than expected.

The morning sunlight hits his hair and you have a religious experience.

Jolyne:

“There’s only one bed? Hell yeah, I’m not sleeping on the floor.”

Completely casual about it until she realizes she has to actually get in it with you.

“Uh. Don’t get any ideas, alright?”

You both end up talking half the night about dumb stuff until you fall asleep mid-conversation.

Wakes up with your head on her shoulder, blushes, then tries to play it off “You’re drooling on my shirt, by the way.”

Secretly really liked it though.

If you tease her later, she’s like, “Shut up, it was cold.”

Johnny:

He’s super awkward about it at first. “You- you can have the bed. I’ll manage.”

You refuse to let him be uncomfortable, so you both end up sharing.

He’s tense and quiet until you start talking about anything, your Stand, your horse, even the weather.

The conversation drifts into silence and he’s asleep first.

You wake up to find him using your shoulder as a pillow, hand loosely holding yours.

If you mention it, he’ll mutter, “You make a good pillow,” and blush like mad.

Next morning he pretends it never happened, but his ears stay pink all day.

Gappy:

He’s surprisingly calm about it at first, just shrugging. “You trust me, right?”

Then he lies down and realizes he does not know where to put his arms.

Cue stiff robot posture for 10 minutes.

You tell him to relax and suddenly he’s the world’s most comfortable man, snuggling under the blanket, humming.

“See? Not weird at all,” he says, while you’re silently combusting.

He falls asleep fast, soft little snores, hair tickling your neck.

You wake up with his head on your chest and a faint smile on his face.

You don’t move for an hour because he looks too peaceful.

Jodio:

“Ayo. One bed? Sounds economical.”

Acts chill, internally screaming.

Lies down with earbuds in, pretending he doesn’t notice how close you are.

When the blanket slips off, he wordlessly pulls it up over both of you and mutters, “Don’t freeze, okay?”

You end up accidentally bumping knees and both flinch like you’ve been shot.

He spends the next 15 minutes staring at the ceiling whispering “play it cool, play it cool.”

By morning, he’s using your shoulder as a pillow but refuses to acknowledge it.

“We just—uh—ran outta space. That’s all.”

Dragona:

Smirks immediately. “Oh, just one bed? How convenient~.”

Absolute tease, lounging like a model. “Don’t worry, I don’t bite… unless you ask nicely.”

You: “Dragona, please.”

“What? I’m just being friendly.”

But when you’re both actually lying there, they’re surprisingly sweet, pulling the blanket over you and making sure you’re comfy.

They hum softly until you fall asleep.

In the morning they’re like, “So… who reached for who first, hmm?”

You: “You literally held my hand in your sleep.”

Dragona: grinning “Guess I’m just irresistible.”

[valives]

DOOMSCROLLING AFTER THEY JUST NUTTED IN YOU

featuring: johnny joestar, gyro zeppeli, diego brando, hot pants

tags: modern/no stand au, fem! reader, crack and fluff, mild sexual content, established relationships, hot pants has a dick <3

JOHNNY is still struggling to catch his breath when he hears the click of your phone as it unlocks, the blue light from the screen suddenly hitting his face. His cock had just gotten soft inside of you, twitching against the walls of your cunt… and you’re cooing at the slideshow of a kitten with a cute belly. You’re giggling at whatever bullshit is on your phone and the act makes your muscles contract harder around him, some of the remaining cum leaking down the length of his member. Johnny can’t help but groan.

 “Are you fucking serious?!”

 He pushes himself up on his elbows, his damp blonde hair falling into his face, staring at you in utter disbelief. More tired than mad, he attempts to pry the device away from your grasp only for you to hold it above your head, sticking your tongue out at him.

 Immediately giving up, Johnny lets out a long sigh before crashing his face in your cleavage, something close to a whine bubbling in his throat as you run your fingers through his hair and yet the other hand still keeps on scrolling.

 “At least wait until I pull out…”

   —

   “Bella, bella.”

 Above you, GYRO’s pupils are blown wide from the afterglow, sweat running down his chiseled features. Your boyfriend truly wonders if he should be amused or offended at the scene. Here he is still buried deep inside your sloppy cunt, his cock twitching as it empties the last of his loads… and you already have a phone ready in your hands, Instagram pulled up and knees deep in a stupid video of a guy eating street food over a sped-up playthrough of Subway Surfers.

 Hands placed on either side of your hips, Gyro flops his entire heavy, sweaty, muscular upper body right on top of you, crushing you into the mattress and blocking your view of the screen.

 “C'monnnnn," he drawls. Groaning loudly and dramatically as he tries to regain your attention. "I just took you to heaven and back! Are you saying that piece of plastic is better than me?"

 You slither out of his hold just enough to swipe down for another reel, this time using Gyro’s forehead as the phone stand, leaving him dumbfounded. Every now and then, you’ll pat his head, so at least he’s not mad.

   —

   No, absolutely not. DIEGO’s size-of-a-city ego will not tolerate this level of disrespect. After giving you his best performance, he expects praises and adoration in the depths of your eyes, not for them to be completely away from him. You roll over to your side of the bed the moment he pulls out, glued to your phone as it repeatedly plays some obnoxious trending audio on Instagram. Swinging your legs leisurely as if your insides aren’t stuffed with his seed.

 “What… the fuck do you think you’re doing?”

 You don’t bother responding to that, not even where he reaches out to try and pull the phone away. You purse your lips and look over at him.

 “We can doomscroll together.”

 Diego grits his teeth and stares at you like you just asked him to bring his mother’s cremated corpse to the wedding. But you’re serious, that’s the point. After a few brief seconds contemplating his life choices, he plops down on his stomach beside you, this time opening Instagram on his own accord.

 “Dude, slow down.” You grow a bit annoyed when his thumb swipes across the screen so quickly you can barely see the reels but only hear a nanosecond of the sound that’s in it.

“I’m finding the good one, your FYP is trash.” The blonde rolls his eyes, then frowns when he stumbles upon something.

 “Why is there a video of Cristiano Ronaldo reacting to 9/11 on your feed?”

 “…new angle.”

   —

    “No, you stupid! LEAVE HIS ABUSIVE ASS!”

 The sound of HOT PANTS clearing her throat snaps you out of your daze, and you quickly put your phone down to turn around to face her. She’s holding a wet towel in one hand and a bottle of water in the other, having just pounded you through the bed frames in the last three hours. Right now, though, she’s kind of just giving you a questioning look.

 “S-Sorry,” You mutter, embarrassed. “I’ve been too invested in these mini C-Dramas on Instagram lately…”

 Your girlfriend sighs, but she climbs back up onto the bed with you anyway. Opening the bottle then cupping the back of your head as gently as she can, Hot Pants helps you take small sips. Once she’s sure that you’ve gotten a firmer grip of the bottle, she starts cleaning you up. Wiping the warm cloth down your body, past your bruised neck and sweat-slicked torso, down to the sticky mess between your legs. Your thighs twitch at the contact, and you can’t help but let out a whine.

 “Does it hurt?” She immediately stops, her eyes darting up to yours. You shake your head.

 “I’m just… sensitive.”

 Hot Pants hums and continues what she’s doing, a decision you frankly find to be a bit… disappointing. Nevertheless, the silence that follows is comfortable. She finally puts the towel aside, then looks over at your phone on the pillow where it’s still quietly playing the next cut of the film.

 “You’re gonna finish that?”

 “Oh,” you blink, then turn around to pick up the device. “I guess… I really wanna know what happened next, but it’s mostly just five-minute cuts and not the entire episode. You have to scroll a lot.”

 “We can watch together,” the offer makes your eyes widen. You can barely contain the excited smile that spreads across your lips.

 “Pansy, I had no idea you like these kind of things!”

 “I can certainly try,” she settles down beside you and pulls you into her arms, spooning you from behind. You make quick work of adjusting the screen so it’s in her line of sight too, pressing the play button again.

 And… before you knew it, you’ve binged the entire series together.

 The ending was okay. At least the female lead ended up with a better guy than the bum who mistreated her. You let out a hearty yawn and finally place the phone back onto your nightstand.

 “How many episodes was that?”

 “Dunno,” you yawn again into the palm of your hand. “I think… nine, or ten?”

 “Eleven,” Hot Pants corrects. You wonder why she asked you that when she already knew the answer, but you don’t dwell on it for too long.

 “Yeah, you’re right.” One look at the wall clock tells you it’s past midnight, and possibly an hour since you’ve started watching.

 You’re about to pull the blanket over your body when Hot Pants shifts.

 In a flash, she’s on top of you, pinning both of wrists above your head. Your eyes flit wide open, any trace of drowsiness vanishing in an instant as you feel the heat rush to your face… and pussy.

 “W-Wha…?”

 “You know,” she grunts, lowering her forehead to yours. “If you’re still up and paying attention to anything but me…”

 “I take it as I haven’t done my job well enough yet.”

 Her cock nudges your entrance, prompting a moan from your throat. Your hands go around her neck on instinct, pleasure shooting down your spine when the tip grazes your clit.

 “Eleven,” she huffs against your lips, almost amused.

 “You can cum eleven more times, right princess?”

Cristiano Ronaldo (live) reaction to 9/11

🏷️: @manaribbons @sshikoyo @lovelacesonnette @batwngs @goodluckjane

[himeyoshipie]

can you do nsfw for bruno bucciarati with a fem! reader on their wedding anniversary or honeymoon? Kinda giving breeding kink too, like where they finally work on having that family him and reader always wanted?

FINALLY DONE!! I would like to sincerely apologize I have genuinely no clue why it took me so long to write this😔 I hope you like it regardless I worked very hard<3

Bruno Bucciarati x reader on their honeymoon

wc : 2,098 *nsfw warning!! mdni

A refreshingly cool breeze kisses your face as your lover opens the door to your hotel room, marking your night’s supposed end. You and your husband, Bruno, had filled your evening with exploration of the busy streets of Rio de Janeiro, and enjoyed shopping and indulgence in the local cuisine on your honeymoon. After a long but pleasurable night, you both were ready to detach from the bustle of the public and settle into a more intimate space between just the two of you. You slither out of your heels as your lover frees your hands of any prior occupants.

“The nightlife here is beautiful, I don't think I could ever get sick of it.” You share as Bruno pulls you into a sweet embrace.

With a smile and a peck to the cheek, he responds, “Don't worry, you’ll be able to enjoy it as long as we are here, tesoro.”

Giggling softly, you release him and make your way to the bathroom to run a bath, craving a cleanse of the thick, hot city air. Moments later, you emerge from the bathroom, in notably less clothing.

“Join me?” you ask Bruno. “It’s cold in here without you.”

His eyes cannot help but appreciate you as you stand before him, now without the barrier of a dress, in your mismatched lace bra and panties. In that moment, his heart throbbed in wonder at how he ever came to be so lucky as to have the privilege of being able to call you his wife.

“Of course, my love,” he replies, standing to rid himself of his clothing and join you.

You step into the tub, followed by your spouse, and you both arrange your bodies opposite each other. You melt into the blanket of warm, soapy moisture, sliding your feet past Bruno’s hips and straddling him. His breath hitches slightly as he basks in the beauty of your relaxed state, soon following suit.

You open your eyes to be greeted by the sight of your husband, raw and unguarded, for your eyes only. His beauty in this moment fills your body with desire in many ways. You long to be close to him, so much so that you hope to find a way to live under his skin—within his soul. Your stare is soon reciprocated, as Bruno opens his eyes with a look that tells you in this moment your thoughts are one.

Simultaneously, you both sit up and softly but eagerly press your lips into each other, as if they were magnetic. The feeling of your pillows of love tenderly caressing evokes a heat under your face, a heat that rapidly spreads much lower. In desperation, your hands travel up the man’s body and settle at the corner of his jaw. Bruno requites your need, hands eagerly fondling your flesh.

The kiss deepens, and a surge of sensations follows. The throb in between your legs is fueled by your lover’s sweet but ruthless caress. The way his mind seems capable of allowing him to keep you right on edge with his touch while pushing you over it with his tongue puzzles you, as your own mental function is melting like ice above the fire of your arousal. Sloshing of water and your own pants and whimpers are the last thing you hear before your passion is interrupted. Cupping your face, Bruno suddenly forces your lips apart.

Following the flustered look on your face from the lack of his warmth against you, he whispers, “Should we move this to the bed, amore?”

You reply with a nod that was much more eager than you could help, and with that, he stands, you following. He steps out of the tub and scoops you out of it, carrying you to the bed. Your lonely lips make the walk feel more like a ceaseless journey. At last, he drops you on the bed, immediately resuming your kiss. The crash was fiercer—your lips fought like they hated each other, while your hands wandered like they couldn’t get enough.

Yours, weaving through his sapphire locks and studying every feature of his nape. His right cupping your cheek, thumb tracing grounding circles on your flesh, while his left kneads your breast, fingers capturing and massaging your nipple. You couldn’t help your hips’ rut at the stimulation, their desperate grind against the air.

Grabbing Bruno’s hand and guiding it to your heat, you plead, “Please, I need you.”

With a smirk, Bruno momentarily satisfies your request. He slowly glides a finger through your slick, just barely reaching your aching clit before pulling away. You release a needier moan than you could have helped, the thirst of your flesh not yet being quenched overwhelming you. Following this tease, he begins his descent.

First, stopping at your collarbone, his warm, wet tongue almost feels cold as it sucks and drags against your burning hot skin. Your hands seek a distraction in the sheets as he continues trailing down your body, leaving marks every stop along the way. He stops just above your slit before looking up at you with eyes that couldn’t hide his arousal even if they tried.

After what felt like an eternity, his tongue finally finds its way to your cunt, immediately targeting your swollen clit with an eager stroke. His mouth salivates at your taste, breath hitching in an attempt to restrain himself and focus on your pleasure. Your body responds instantly to the long-desired stimulation on your pussy, hips jerking and back arching uncontrollably. Eyebrows knitting, you cry out as your lover laps at your clit ardently. Bruno’s hands massage your inner thighs, inching closer and closer to the action. Your hand makes its way to your mouth in a subconscious effort to conceal your needy moans and maintain your dignity.

Your lover does not entertain your efforts, pulling back momentarily and grabbing your arm, he says, “Let me hear your lovely voice. Don't hold back, tesoro.”

With no hand preventing it, a flood of pants and whimpers spills from your pretty mouth. This overwhelming satisfaction of receiving what your pussy has been aching for after what felt like hours leaves you feeling ready to cum almost instantly. It takes every fiber in your body to keep your thighs from crushing your lover and drowning him in your release.

Bruno continues devouring you, drunk on your taste, unable to pull away. He doesn’t escape from the ruthless throbs of desire, his cock swollen and leaking. Unable to stop himself, his hips begin to rut against the bed, attempting to smother the fire in his stomach.

The grunts and groans of your lover on your cunt send jolts of electricity through your core. You feel the knot in your stomach grow bigger and bigger as Bruno continues his assault on your clit, his middle and ring fingers finding their way to your pulsating hole. As he pushes inside, you feel your release bubble up almost faster than you can process. With each curl of his long, slender fingers, your breath quickens, moans climbing in volume following the buildup in your core. Tears rush from your eyes as your release slowly tips over the edge, until it suddenly stops. You look down through your cloudy vision at your lover, who has stopped all movement.

“You can hold on a bit longer for me, right mia cara?”

He rises and meets your flushed and sweaty face, giving you a quick peck before putting the fingers previously fucking you in your mouth. You moan at the taste of yourself and the feeling of his long, soft fingers barely grazing your uvula as you suck them clean.

His free hand spreads your legs, and he positions himself between them, his cock resting on your inner thigh. He pulls his fingers from your wet mouth and leans down for another kiss. Your interrupted orgasm left your pussy aching harder than before. Desperate for any sort of stimulation, you begin to grind your hips, hoping to catch Bruno’s length that rests mere inches away from your pulsing hole. Feeling this, with a groan, Bruno takes your signal and pulls away from your lips.

“Are you ready?” he asks, rubbing his tip across your slit and smearing his pre cum against your arousal.

“Yes,” you breathe out, “please, put it in.”

He slowly pushes his length into you, eyes fluttering shut as he groans at the feeling of your soft, wet walls pulsing around him. Your hips twitch as a needy moan rips from your throat. Tears well in your eyes from the pleasure spreading through your body. Bruno’s climax builds fast, his hips thrusting almost automatically. His breaths come out as hungry groans that get higher with each thrust, as the sensations from your wet cunt take over his mind and body. He leans down into your neck, panting into your feverish skin as his tongue lazily licks and twirls on your collarbone.

“You feel so good, tesoro,” Bruno murmurs into your ear, sending shivers down your spine.

“Keep going. Fuck, I’m so close,” you whine as his cock pounds your sweet spot, pushing you closer and closer to the edge.

Your hips twitch as your climax begins to tip with each thrust. You could tell your lover felt the same as his hips’ brutal rhythm begins to falter. Sensing him about to retreat, you lock your legs around his waist, not wanting the pleasure to end.

“Please, don't pull out,” you plead, “just keep fucking me.”

Those words were the final push for both of you. Your head falls back as your orgasm rips through you mercilessly, a string of euphoric moans falling from your lips. Bruno’s hands leave a deep print in your thigh as he uses it to brace himself as he cums deep inside you, hips twitching with each spurt of his release.

You wish you could paint his face in this moment so you could never forget it, the way his eyebrows curl and his pretty eyes shut in his pleasure, pleasure that you caused. As Bruno comes down from his bliss, he too appreciates your beauty in the moment. The way your chest heaves, littered with his marks of love. And how you look at him with pure contentment, your beautiful face telling him that you will never want anything or anyone other than him. He leans down and gives you as tender a kiss as both his breath and yours allow before lying down beside you, head just barely resting on your chest, and giving you both a moment to recollect. You subconsciously run your hand along his spine in a way that he feels might put him to sleep. As you both melt into each other’s embrace, Bruno replays the night in his head and realizes something that he doesn’t think he can sleep on.

With this, he breaks the silence.

“Darling?”

“Hmm?”

He sits up and turns to face you, “Is it alright that I didn’t pull out? I thought you had your birth control removed.”

“Well… I did, but it’s okay. I think whatever happens, happens. As long as we’re here together,” you respond with a soft smile.

These words surprise your lover. As delighted as he is to hear this, he’s almost uncertain, like he isn’t sure if you two are on the same wavelength.

“Even if you get pregnant? I mean, it would kill me if I caused something you didn’t desire, my love.”

You almost giggle at his concern. His caring nature shining through makes your heart throb.

“Baby, there is nothing in the world that I desire more than to be with you, and to have your kids and start a family is truly a dream. I really mean it when I say I want nothing but you and your happiness, Bruno.”

The love in the air is thick and covers your two bodies, tangled in each other and basking in the affection. Your confession fills Bruno’s body with a feeling only you could ever make him feel. In this moment, he realizes he has all he could ever ask for. His being blessed enough to have a beautiful wife who wants nothing but his love and wants a family just as much as he does is something he will never take for granted.

Bruno pulls you in for a hug and showers you in kisses, the smallest representation of his feelings he could ever display. You bask in his embrace, and you two drift asleep, tangled in each other and blanketed by your love.

could you tell this was lowkey the first fic I’ve ever written👀(don’t answer that) anyways I just hope you guys like it more than I do😖

[lemonadelovers]

♡ ྀི˖ ࣪ celebration

pairing: bruno bucciarati x reader

summary: bruno and the gang go back to Libeccio for old times’ sake, when due to the events of golden wind, things escalate quickly….

tags: smut, established relationship, post-gw, kinda exhibitionism?, puppy love, kinda angst if you squint, dead diavolo au, married couple, TEASING, fingering, oral (f!receiving), creampie, slight breeding kink(?), brat taming(?), gender neutral reader

a/n: first post yayayay. I hope my bruno lovers like this one…. i swear to become a dedicated bruno fic writer. ofc with other jjba characters and etc too. but mostly him.

word count: ~6k+

The afternoon settled in quietly, if it were not for your table.

6PM. Sunlight filtered in from the windows and drawn curtains of Libeccio, it softly splaying against tabletops, cloths, and tableware alike as the soft warmth trickled into the cozy restaurant.

People demurely chattered in the background, with silverware clinking against each other in the background. A soft, gentle atmosphere of nourishment and quiet relaxation began to set in the Italian sunny afternoon, as people began to wind down for the coming of night.

However, the Gang was not too worried about this.

The table slammed as Mista began to rant, his fist hitting the table quickly. You winced, trying to get him to get the memo of quieting down before you looked hesitantly upwards to the side, towards your husband. Bruno was already looking down at you, fondly, as he smiled softly your way in hopes of calming your nerves. His hand searched for yours under the table as your fingers intertwined, and he softly squeezed your hand reassuringly in his hold.

“There’s no way! There’s no actual way you just put TUPAC over Eminem!” Mista bantered, obviously passionate about whatever music topic they were already talking about when you and Bucciarati arrived together for the dinner event.

Before the event, Bucciarati’s nervousness was palpable. A soft tension filled the air as you two ransacked the house in pursuit of getting dressed. You, finding your perfect jewelry, whether that be your favorite bracelet or pearl necklace. But Bucciarati? He paced around your shared bedroom for a minute or two. Out of view and alone, with his own thoughts, of course.

It had been only a couple days to a week after Bruno and the gang had defeated Diavolo. In his mind, Bruno should be overjoyed he’s not six feet under right now. But, even then, a gnawing feeling in his throat where a lump had formed and an itchy feeling in his neck, he knew there were underlying feelings.

Bruno loved you- he did. When he made that decision to defeat Diavolo, and betray Passione once and for all, it was partly for Trish. And then partly for himself, too. But, even if he did shove the feeling down, he knew it was partly for you, too. He wanted more for you and him. Constantly wondering whether he’d come home at night when he worked. Having to leave you for days at a time. Being around some dangerous people he knows he wouldn’t ever let you around. He wanted an end to it all- especially those damned drugs.

So Bruno should be happy, after all.

Yet he was nervous.

Had to be.

He kept his usual calm, controlled demeanor. An unflinching face with an attitude that could control storms. He never let you see. But, deep in his guts, he knew— he never wanted to take you for granted again— not his relationship with you, your love, your touch………because, even when he was dying, when his soul left his body and he could feel himself slowly ascending to heaven, he thought of you. Even when he thought of the mission. Of Giorno’s dream. When Giorno revived him, and he thought about the stakes at hand, too.

Looking down at his own body, bisected and torn, ……all he could focus on was you. Your face. Your laugh. Never getting to see you again. Never getting that house on the Naples beach to share with you. Those quiet, gentle golden dinners.

He knew he couldn’t do it again.

He knew something had to change.

Because, deep in his guts, the deepest recesses of his brain, he knew all he wanted was to spend his life with you. His spouse. His one and only.

As he tried to snap himself out of it, he couldn’t help but still feel that nagging feeling low in his stomach. Even as he drove down to Libeccio, with you in tow.

And now……

Narancia’s annoyance was immediately evident on his face, his expression contorting into one of disgust and disbelief as he retorted. “Well no shit, dipshit! Eminem’s only popular ‘cause he’s fucking white.”. While the entire party waited for food, this was just commonplace for you all to be particular nuisances whenever you came along. Fugo looked particularly disinterested, sighing as he tried to bury his face even deeper into his book. Abbacchio was in the corner of the table, eyes closed, too absorbed in his own headphones and music to care about whatever was going on outside of it.

Trish wasn’t too bothered, though, with her fist holding her head up as her other arm laid down on the table flat. She was hooked into the conversation pretty well, even going as far as to lean in to hear better— but it was of no matter to Mista and Narancia. Giorno was sitting there in the center of the table, looking quietly content as a small smile tugged on the corner of his lips, as he began looking at Mista and Narancia too.

Giorno tilted his head in satisfaction, scanning over the area as he looked back at the table. ‘They’re awfully energetic’, he thought, as his hand moved upwards to cup his chin.

Even when the victory of days prior was supposed to be settling in by now, changes to Passione announced and all, the weight and heaviness of this new responsibility came through deeply in everyone’s hearts and minds. Giorno and Bruno knew this best of all. With Giorno as the new Don and Bruno his right hand man (the Consigliere), major changes had to be made.

But that was to wait, for now. Because as the afternoon began to settle, you and the gang just had to relax. That was a problem for another day.

Returning Bruno’s hand squeeze, you nodded your head in self-confidence as you decided to enter the conversation. Even as Mista and Narancia bickered…

“Well, I think Outkast is pretty great, too,” you said, voice cutting through the back-and-forth of the argument like a butter knife through bread. You had a lopsided smile on your face, expression a little dazed, as you tried your absolute best to look interested in the conversation at hand.

It only took a beat for Mista and Narancia to break from the silence and just blink at you, paused.

“I’m serious, though. Outkast is literally top 10 rappers out there at LEAST. And nobody ever talks about them.” You asserted, starting to get passionate, as Trish began to look at you.

“Them too!” Mista immediately butted in.

“You dumbass! You didn’t even know who they were 10 seconds ago!” Narancia groaned, now looking completely done with Mista.

The table then began to erupt into almost complete laughter, with everyone laughing and chuckling, seldom Abbacchio and Fugo.

Bruno should’ve been looking elsewhere. He should’ve been looking at the group. But instead, all his eyes could track, and all his eyes wanted to look, at was you. The way you laughed, your hair moving and eyes flashing brightly in the sunlight becoming intoxicating to him as a faint blush began to appear on his ears, creeping up his neck to his cheeks too.

He only chuckled softly at the situation earlier, but quickly found himself captivated by you and unable to look away.

Sensing his stare, you glanced at him quickly only to spot his gaze as you instantly looked away bashfully. Your laugh died down into a quiet hush as Mista and Narancia then began debating about who would win a rap battle: Outkast vs Tupac.

“Bruno, what’s with the stare?” You giggled, a grin spreading your lips as you tried to cover your cheeky grin with a hand pulled up towards your lips. He only smiled at you softly once more in response, his eyes focused on your visage intensely as to commit the moment into memory.

“You’re just too cute,” he confessed.

Rolling your eyes, you pushed him gently yet playfully.

Yet, you would find, this wouldn’t be an isolated incident.

The waiter came in soon after, rolling the cart of meals and sweets alike as he began distributing it around the table.

Eating your carbonara and he, his bruschetta, you still remained oblivious to the true extent of Bruno’s staring.

You put a mouthful of carbonara into your mouth, chewing slowly, as you watched Fugo and Abbacchio finally put down their distractions, becoming invested again at the celebration dinner playing out before them.

As your gaze switched over to your food, you began to sense the stare your husband was shooting at you as you glanced at him quickly- only to see him staring still.

But this incident was the worst of all, because you could clearly see his lower lip between his teeth, biting his lip smoothly.

Slowly but surely, a twisted, evil idea, began to sink into your mind.

As he began to scarf down his bruschetta, quickly trying to distract himself from both his less than holy thoughts AND poor manners, he started to think.

He was a modest man. At least, he tried to be. He was always respectful, in tune with your emotions, and always answering to your every whim and wish.

So how could he be so lacking in modesty now?

He tried to wrap his head around it, yet failed miserably.

But then he remembered that nagging, low feeling deep in his chest. The one that was scared. The one that was ecstatic at the same time. And the one that also wanted to show you how grateful he really was to still be with you and present, was still there.

Bruno wanted to get home— as unassumingly quick as possible, taking his time to ease you up to the idea before he ruined you— for at least hours at a time, all to show you how he’d never let you go again. To show you that he’ll never leave you.

And most importantly, to show you that he’ll never make you go through anything as traumatizing as even thinking you lost him again.

So, even as his blush now burned pink, flushing his face, you began to twirl some more of your carbonara into your fork and held it up as you enacted your evil, silly little plan.

Before his blush became too obvious for anyone to spot, especially to Narancia’s leering gaze, you quickly pretended to sneeze, an ACHOO! hitting the air and reverberating in everyone’s ear canals before you flinched, jumping at the table as it made another sound.

As you lerched forwards into the table, you made sure to tip your fork his way as your fork magically fell. out of your grasp onto the bottom of his expensive, white tailored blazer.

“Oh! I’m so sorry, Bruno,” you pleaded apologetically as you feigned your innocence as best you could.

Bruno’s head immediately looked down, witnessing the fork on his lap now as he sighed. “It’s okay, cara,” he reassured as he picked up the fork and set it down on the table.

You immediately jumped up, grabbing some napkins at the table quickly as you began to dab at the increasing stain on his lower abdomen. “Nonsenseee,” you groaned, coughing before speaking again. “Come on, let’s go to the bathroom, so I can get you fixed up,” you ushered him upwards, as he began hesitantly but trustingly following you.

As everyone stared in silence, a few seconds later, everyone began to focus on their conversations and food as everyone but Leone resumed their own business. His eyebrow rose, following you in suspicion before he shook his head, understanding the tension at hand, before putting his headphones back on and shuffling his playlist.

As you two rushed into the women’s bathroom with luckily nobody else inside (due to the restaurant closing soon), tensions were already high as you let the door close behind you and Bruno already dragged into a single stall.

Bruno looked at you with simply wide eyes as you huffed, trying to smoothen yourself out and gain more composure before speaking again once more.

“Bruno, what was that back there?” You asked, seemingly annoyed and frustrated.

Bruno’s lips opened, then closed momentarily, brows furrowing as he contemplated how to respond to your puzzling question.

“I’m sorry, bella—” he said before you quickly cut him off.

“You made us look like, you know, we had something going on!” you groaned, trying to quiet your tone so it wouldn’t reach walls outside of the bathroom.

“We both have reputations to uphold, we can’t be getting too close and personal in public!” you continued to rant as you ran your fingers through your hair.

Getting carried away, you were busy looking at the floor, biting your nails with anxiety as you looked upwards back towards your husband.

The sight you beheld in front of you made you want to rip your own hair out.

Bruno, standing there in the stall, was just staring at your lips with lidded, dazed eyes as he quickly noticed your deadpan stare.

“I can’t help it,” he chuckled, eyes flickering back up to his eyes as you began to cross your arms.

Before you could finish that gesture, though, he planned to take your mind off it, as he closed in on you with his chest pushing you to the side of the wall, him moving you with his hands slinking around your waist as he kissed you deeply.

His lips moved against yours with precision, like waves, as you slowly leaned into the kiss, both of you closing your eyes. His tongue sure enough after another beat began to lick at and poke your mouth, asking for permission, as he tilted his head.

Whimpering, and definitely caught off guard, your hands moved up to wrap around his neck as you opened your mouth, granting your smitten husband permission.

He groaned, accidentally rocking his hips into yours with a slow yet gentle thrust as you whimpered again. The kiss began to turn into a full on makeout session, as his tongue began to caress your tongue and dance around your mouth as he licked up every bit of carbonara sauce he could.

Trying not to get too carried away, you tenderly pushed him, ripping your mouth from his as you both began to catch your breaths.

“What has gotten into you today,” you whisper, stunned, as your hands found his cheeks, thumbs softly caressing his strong cheekbones.

He simply nuzzles into your touch, his hand sliding up to return your gesture as he looks at you with those love-sick eyes you’d recognize any day, out of a crowd of men.

“I missed you,” he rasps, all he can muster out, as he slowly closes in for another kiss.

Sighing, you make him stand straight. “Seriously, Bruno, tell me what it is. You can usually wait until we get home.” you reason, looking him in the eyes as if with a silent plead for him to tell you the truth and the entire, complete truth.

Looking away, Bruno contemplates for a second, before looking back into your eyes. He sighs as well for a second before pulling himself together. “To be honest with you, cara,” he begins, his eyes starting to water before he blinks them away.

His hands come to yours, encasing them in his gentle hold once more as he tilts his head.

“I’ve been distracted. I’ve been hurt, and I’ve been thinking of how I almost lost you, lost the gang, lost everyone.”

“I can’t sit here and pretend anymore like that wasn’t the scariest moment of my entire life. Not getting to see my partner another day,” he continued.

“I miss you more than I ever have in my entire life, and you’re right here in front of me. All I can think about is how you’re mine. How I want to spend every day with you for the rest of my life. How much I missed the smell of your hair, your touch,” he rasps once more, voice breaking.

He gives your hands another gentle squeeze before recomposing himself.

“What I mean to say, is,” he coughs.

“I was reckless. I didn’t think about how I could’ve lost you. How you could’ve lost me. And now,” he says slowly, looking straight into your eyes as if he were lost in the sea of your eyes.

He begins to bring your hand up to his, leaning down slowly.

He brings your knuckles specifically to his lips, kissing them softly, as his thumb caresses your palm and hand caresses yours sweetly.

“All I want to do is show you. Maybe start that family we always dreamed of,” he said, almost with a teasing lilt, as he smiled like a Cheshire cat. The sly smirk reached his eyes, making them a little lidded, as he regained his posture.

“But not now. Not here,” he asserted.

“I’ll set up a day, just you and me. Then, with a room full of petals and wine, we can fully embrace each other. All day. No distractions,” he promised, looking once more into your eyes, looking every bit the loving and affectionate husband you always knew him to be.

But, he unleashed a demon he didn’t know existed. Blinking back tears yourself, you swallowed down a lump in your throat as you coughed, clearing it out. “Bruno, I—” you choked out, trying to process his emotional explanation.

He waited for you, patiently, eyes flickering all across your face as he sought to gauge your every reaction.

“Bruno, you should’ve told me before this,” you said, looking away, before you suddenly pulled him by his collar, yanking him to your head as you went into for another kiss.

Your hands frantically began to search his body, infiltrating his suit jacket via his chest cutout before going up to his cheeks and jawline as you began to pant in his mouth, lips moving against his in a rhythm already.

His eyes were already closed, him savoring every second of this moment, your presence, and the feel of your lips on his when you begin whimpering again into his mouth, making his cock twitch in his pants.

You break away suddenly, a string of saliva connecting you and him together as you two parted on either sides of the bathroom stall.

You stared at him for a second, silent yet heavy with tension, when you finally spoke.

“Let’s do it, right here, right now,” you choke out yet again.

Immediately, Bruno’s eyes are wide, as he clears his throat before speaking quickly, as to not let your hopes up. “No, cara, not here,” he said, leaning in again so his nose was flush next to yours, your lips a centimeter apart.

But stubbornly, you shook your head no immediately. “No, Bruno, I need it, now,” you said with a whiny lilt, thighs already rubbing together.

He simply closed his eyes, trying to ward off the temptation of his spouse as he fought to keep himself in control.

“Tesoro, no, you’re far too precious, far too special…..” he said, sounding more desperate than he intended it to sound.

You just whined again, refusing to give up. You were going to get your way, whether he liked it or not. “Bruno, I appreciate you, but,” you said, leaning in even further to slide past his head to his ears as you whispered:

“I need this now. I need you now,”

He coughed, face beginning to turn flush.

And finally, something in him snapped. His need for control and dominance sprung into action as he slammed you flush against the walls of the stall, a thud echoing throughout the rest of the bathroom.

He began kissing you once more, his tongue giving you a quick once over on your tongue before he dipped his head lower, kissing your jawline, then the space below your ears, till eventually he got to your neck, where he began to lick and nip at lightly.

Remembering the rest of the gang back at the table, he quickly dismissed his dirty thought of marking you for others to see as he dipped his head even lower, wet, puffy lips over the junction of your neck where your neck and your shoulder met.

Knowing you could cover his marks up, his hands began to roam, his hands feeling you up through your clothes when he ran his hands down to your hips, resting there softly for a second or two, before moving to glide beneath your shirt. His meaty, thick fingers began to feel you up more systematically.

His hands roamed over your waist before moving upwards to your chest, caressing and fondling and squeezing as he saw fit before he quickly spun you around, his body flushing deeply against yours as your chest suddenly hit the flat of the wall in front of you.

Bruno knew there wasn’t much time to waste, so he did what he knew best, and that was to make you cum.

He quickly shrugged off your shorts, making you gasp, as his length began to press against the curve of your ass. Your panties were quick to fall next as he immediately dove down, kneeling, when he quickly began to lap at your neglected, already dripping cunt.

He ate it like a starved man, his tongue gathering your juices as his fingers already rose up to assist him in his efforts.

His fingers traced the ring of your labia, dancing around your clit once or twice before generously dipping into your cunt. He began to tongue fuck you then, hurriedly, as his tongue already poked your entrance in light thrusts.

As his tongue eased its way in, the tense muscle thrusting in deeper and deeper, Bruno groaned with the taste of your cunt on his tongue he savored oh so deeply. But, despite this, his fingers then turned its attention on your clit, where you really wanted all the attention at. In slow, small circles, his fingers rubbed your clit which made moan after louder moan leak from your lips, despite your protests and determination not to be so noisy.

Your sweet sounds of pleasure were all too familiar to Bruno by this point, as his other hand not dug into your cunt squeezed your thigh as if to remind you the reality you two endured.

Trying to muffle your cries, your whimpering and almost pleads of submission drove Bruno to no end as his fingers began tracing even tighter circles around your sensitive clit.

Engorged, your clit throbbed, as the familiar coil of tightness began to wind deeper and deeper inside your gut, and you knew that soon your release would soon coat his body.

Determined to finish this quickly, Bruno gathered up your glistening slick with his deft, yet quick fingers as he thrust a finger into your cunt. Then two. And instantly, your hands flew up to the bathrooms wall, as those moans of pleasure you fought to keep unnoticed threatened to break out in the heat of passion. You groaned, trying to keep your moans at bay, when his tongue began to swirl around your fluttering walls sensually and his two broad fingers rubbed against that gummy, sensitive part.

The coil finally snapping, you cried out in pleasure as your walls clenched around him, his tongue exiting quickly to allow for his fingers to thrust into you even deeper through your orgasm. Your legs quivered as your release dripped down your thighs, your release slowly ebbing away even as the waves of it began washing over you one by one. Feeling your walls flutter, Bruno knows you’re in ecstasy by now when he quickly undos his belt to shove his trousers down just enough to allow his boxers to quickly join it above his knees.

His cock stood rigid and tall, head already a flushed pink as it twitched, rugged veins running all around his length. For as long as you’ve been married to Bruno, you knew about his generous size, but even as you took it time and time again, it always managed to surprise you just how well endowed your kind husband really was.

Even when he was gentle you felt stuffed to the brim. His length curved upwards with just enough thickness and veins in the right spot to make you start to scream his name.

Yet, every time, he was nonetheless humble.

As he guided his cock to your puffy, swollen entrance, your clit throbbed yet again as your greedy cunt spit over his length.

Still ever the more teasing, he ran his length up and down your cunt with hips in a rocking motion as he rubbed, not entered, your waiting entrance.

“Pl-Please, Bruno,” you begged for mercy as you tried to look back at your merciless, yet loving, husband.

“Shh, mia dolce ragazza,” he cooed, his posture leaning in to fit yours as his breath began to coat your earlobe.

“You wanted this. Now take it, like you’re made to,” he set you in place.

His bulging head then began to rock against your clit, making it throb even harder, as you bit your lip in an effort to quiet down.

Every time his fat head knocked, rubbed against your clit, a strike of pleasure would hit you, leaving you gasping, begging for more.

“Bruno!” you finally shout out, in a more hushed tone, as his hips finally halted.

Chuckling, he kissed your neck sweetly and used one of his hands to gently move the rest of your hair away from your neck as the other hand moved downwards, slower, to guide his cock to your well awaited core.

He grabbed his cock in hand at the base as he lined it up with your entrance, his hot breath and pants in your ear as he began to place wet, sloppy and hot kisses all over the column of your neck— the back of it, of course.

Rocking your hips slowly back onto his, he grunted, before his cockhead split you into two. His tip bullied in, stretching you deliciously as he entered you once, then pulled out completely.

He entered you twice, only the throbbing tip inside, before he pulled out once more.

An evil grin began to place itself on his face as he finally gained that control he sought after when you had taken it so brutally from him earlier.

You whined, feeling his deep grin on the back of your neck as his forehead nuzzled the back of your head. “Bruno! Please, Bucci? Bucciarati?” you pleaded, ready for nothing but his cock as you tried to look back at him once more.

“You shouldn’t have teased me, cara,” is the only thing he can hoarsely mutter out as he entered you again, finally taking his cock deeper than the tip inside you as his length finally began to give you the true stretch.

His length pushed its way in, even through the tightness of your inner walls and the way you almost fought to keep him out as he grunted. “So tight,” he mustered against your ear once more as his hips began to rock against you once more. Soft “plap!”and “clap!”s began to fill the air as his balls slapped against your ass with each thrust, and each thrust he gave you was deep and fulfilling.

You kept your whimpers low, your true moans hidden beneath the surface which he knew all too well as you fought desperately to obey your new Consigliere.

But deep down, you knew that was a losing battle.

His hips began to pick up the pace, upping the ante a bit as his selfish desires began to peek their rear heads from within his gut. He tried to muffle the sounds of skin against skin as best he could, yet try as he might, they still came out. His cock desperately twitched in your walls, hungry to find release in your core as his tip began to bully against your cervix again and again.

You cried out, ready to let your torrent of moans let loose when the door suddenly creaked open.

His hips immediately stalled all movement as his breath caught, your own suddenly caught in your throat as you gulped.

Mista peered his curious head in, wondering about the heady smell in the air he chalked up to just bathroom air as he looked around. “Uhh, are you two gonna be done soon?” he asked, potentially vague about what he was referring to on purpose as the heels of his shoes clicked.

Quickly, you tried to regain whatever sense of dignity and modesty you had left in you when you eagerly piped up. “Yeah! We’re fine, I just had to take his shirt off because the stain was way deeper than we thought!” you explained, voice steady and not breaking an inch as he blinked in mild confusion.

“Whatever you say, boss,” he said before standing back up from leaning on the door and leaving, the soft click of the door closing behind him a beat later as you two panted softly.

After a second or two more of waiting, you two knew the coast was clear when his cock, all the more impatient compared to his owner, pulsed again in your cunt.

He chuckled, softly swaying his head side to side in a “no” fashion as he looked at you fondly. “You’re a horrible liar, you know that, right?” he teases.

You scoff, even in such dirty submission.

“Yeah, must’ve learned from you,” you egged back, as your hips softly swayed as if teasing him further on his hips.

He groaned, scoffing lowly as he pushed his hips in as deep as he could get, intertwined with you in every sense of the word as his balls tightened against his cock. “You’re dangerous,” he mocked, thrusting in you pitifully before putting his form flush against your back once more.

“Yet that was the wrong move.” he finally answered, as his hips pulled back slightly to thrust back into you. He set a harsh precedent this time with his hips colliding into yours faster, hitting animalistic paces, as his cock now sponged against your cervix and began hitting your gummy g-spot with accurate, scary precision.

You immediately jolted, eyes widening in surprise as you closed your eyes immediately in forgiveness as he reminded you of exactly how he handled you. Why he was your husband, and nobody else could amount.

You fought to keep your moans in urgently, ardently, as little squeaks and peeps began to rush from your lips. Your body shook upwards with every thrust Bucciarati granted you, and you knew you could do nothing but take it as you felt another flood of moans bubbling up deep in your gut.

“Bruno, please— i’m sorry—“ you choked out, breathing heightening rapidly as he took you fiercely. Yet his hips didn’t falter, another sick grin on his face as his eyes dropped, the hunger in them apparent as his pupils nearly blacked out his eyes. “You asked for this,” he whispered. “You wanted this. I’m—“ he choked out himself, moaning at a tight clench from your cunt. “’m only giving my pretty tesoro what they wanted,” he grunted, his pace increasing even steadier, as he felt his cock begin to throb in anticipation anew.

You couldn’t help yourself, shoving your hand downwards as you rubbed your own clit harshly, Bruno’s hands suddenly flying to your hips as he gripped them with a tight hold, desperate to make you cum, as your flood of moans finally came tumbling out.

Moan after moan you let out, some of them including his name, his movements becoming more and more frantic and more and more driven as he climbed to your release with only that goal in mind.

Finally, that tension in your coil snapped, as you released over his cock again, making Bruno grunt and hilt himself to the very end as you shook against him, the force of your orgasm taking you by the hand as you let out a loud, echoey moan that reverberated against the restaurant bathroom walls and you shuddered.

Bruno’s hips still rocked hard against yours even through your orgasm as he felt your walls clench him tighter than ever before, only to flutter against his length, your walls rubbing him sweetly at the same time. He moaned, the moan growing louder and more insistent as he shut his eyes, thinking of your release dripping down his balls to the bathroom floor. “Fuck, _____!” he hissed as his length finally gave way, hardening even further in his own enlarged state as his now red cockhead began to twitch violently, rope after thick, gooey rope flooding your womb with pleasurable force as his balls spasmed and hips still flushed against yours.

His cock let out rope after rope of release that seemed to go on forever, his soft grunts and moans of “I love you” melting in your ear as you both rode the waves of your orgasm and exhaustion.

As more soft pants and breaths of air filled the air, Bruno slipped his softening cock out of your core and tucked it neatly back into his boxers and he pulled his boxers + trousers back up. He quickly got some toilet paper from the stall and plugged up your dripping slit, it puffed out and sensitive still as you shuddered.

“Careful, mio caro,” you hushed out as he smirked, tsking. “I know how to take care of you,” he reassured you softly, running kisses down your back as he softly patted your pussy with the paper, the excess of his seed oozing out of you slowly.

“You always looked so beautiful like this,” he praised, in another trance as he felt the cum gather on the toilet paper.

“Claimed by me. Mine wholly.” he added, a smirk tugging on his lips. He knew deep in his heart no one could fuck you the way he does.

You rolled your eyes.

“What, you need a pregnancy to prove i’m truly yours?” you scoffed.

“Precisely.” he finished, finally throwing away the toilet paper in the can as he smacked your ass playfully, lowering himself to pick up your panties and pants as he tugged them higher onto your sweltering form.

You sighed, getting out of the stall one at a time as you both got ready in the bathroom mirrors so as to not look too ruffled or messed up.

Shooting glances at each other even after what had gone down, you both smirked as you knew this was not the last you two would hear about this affair.

As Bruno straightened his blazer, he stood tall and proud once more as he looked himself in the mirror— looking every bit the Consigliere he knew he was now ready to embrace.

He took you, waist in hand, back to the table where the stain magically washed out of his blazer with only a wet water stain where the carbonara sauce once was.

The restaurant had already gotten close to closing for the day, everyone in the group already standing up and chattering amongst themselves in groups of when they spotted you two.

With bright, smiling eyes, Narancia and Trish waved you two over, as they resumed talking about their favorite dishes and plans for tomorrow when you all were finally ready to leave.

Somehow managing to seamlessly integrate back into the group, you all left back to your own homes as Bruno and Leone chatted before walking home. “So, just couldn’t help yourself, could you?” Leone bantered, a playful smirk tugging on his own lips as he stared at Bucciarati knowingly.

Bucciarati coughed, quickly looking away, as a faint blush began to appear yet again.

“That’s of no importance.” he asserted, playfully scoffing at the man before him before turning to wrap his arm around your waist, looking back at Abbacchio softly.

“It’s a story for another day. Arrivederci, Leone.” he bid farewell, with you in tow, as you two giggled all the way back home.

[byakuyacoochie]

Informal Grievance- Stardust Crusaders x Reader

Request: thinking abt them mad at pol + that one meme where they throw tomatoes and boo via text effects

[starr-l1ghtt]

"Request something please" SAY NO MORE

So! I'm thinking, Bucci gang with a reader who's just. Super slow mentally. Like, whenever someone asks them anything they have to spend slightly too much time processing and then actually answering kinda slow. Either that or they ask "huh?" like 5 times

Thanks in advance hope its not too much!! 💞 have a lovely day!!

A/N Huh?... oh, okay. Okay!

Maybe I'm the slow one. Sorry it took forever, Starlight. It's never too much to ask for. Hope you enjoy it! I wrote it in a different format than normal. I hope you don't mind.

Bucci Gang with a slow reader drabbles

It's not that you're stupid.

Let's get that out of the way. No one thinks you're stupid. Even Fugo.

No one exactly babies you either.

It was a learning curve at first. A shock to any who didn't know beforehand.

Mista likes to ramble sometimes. Y'know how he is in his heated discussions.

"That poses the question!" He swirls his fork in the air, a bit of Alfredo sauce flicking in Narancia's direction.

"What do you thin-" He pauses when he sees the familiar glaze behind your eyes. The one you always get when you've zoned put.

The pause in conversation is enough to snap you out of it though.

"Huh?" Mista sighs, beginning to start over again without hesitation.

He really doesn't mind the sound of his own voice. He's never one to drop a subject either because you didn't hear it.

Mista wants to know your opinion. If he has to repeat himself 4- no. Okay, anything after 3 and over 4 times, he'll do it.

Narancia wouldn't realize you even have such a problem.

He sees you two so similar in the terms of how you struggle to grasp concepts.

"Pst. Pst. Pssssstttt." He pokes you under the dinner table with his pencil.

"Yeah?"

"What's 18×6?"

.....

...........

.....

.......

"Uhhhhh." You sound like a microwave the way you hesitate while humming.

Narancia can't make fun of it, though he doesn't know the awnser either.

He'll tell you when he figures it out himself.

Fugo will be a bit more brash without knowticing.

He has a short temper. It's only a fact.

That's not to say he isn't empathetic about your situation. Hell he probably knows exactly why you're the way you are.

"Bucciarati wants you to wash the dishes. Clean the kitchen and especially the fridge out before you leave. Can you grab me a napkin?"

He studies you when you get up, trying to repeat the simple orders over in your mind.

Then, on cue, you stop to turn around.

"What was the last thing again?"

"Get me a napkin."

"And before that?"

"Clean the fridge."

"Why do you want me to clean the fridge?"

"I asked for a napkin. Not you to clean the fridge."

"Huh??? Wait, i'm confused. You just-"

"Bucciarati wants you to. So you can leave later today." Fugo grits through his teeth. His eye twitching slightly in annoyance.

"Oh!!!!! Yeah. Alright."

(You still forget his napkin.)

He's started writing you down a checklist instead. Just so he doesn't go insane repeating himself.

Abbacchio and Bucciarati give you the most leeway.

Bucciarati hired you after all. He knows how you operate the best.

Abbacchio just gives you a damn break.

He doesn't talk too often, so there isn't much to worry over. He speaks with his actions, and actions are much easier to understand.

He's stuck to Bucciarati's side most times. He does most conversation for the both of them.

Bucciarati already has sticky notes all over the house.

This man has a choreboard.

He writes in chalk who does what for the week. It's where Fugo got the idea to make you personally more detailed notes. So you could have it on you and not have to check the board constantly.

Routine is easy for Bucciarati. He'll never get upset with you. If you forget anything honestly, he'll blame himself for not having an easy to remember way of his instructions.

Communication is key to a team. By God if he isn't going to go out of his way to make you heard.

Giorno tries to fit in as much as everyone else. He knows you're in the mob for a reason. He knows you'll do anything for that reason.

He admires the way you don't allow being slow to hinder your drive.

Honestly. It comes in handy sometimes.

"My side kinda hurts, but it's okay!" You both were sent on a mission to kill a small rival startup.

Giorno lets out a sigh of relief. Resummoning his stand right after the gunfire had ended.

"Actually... I don't... think.." Your voice picks up quietly after the battle.

"What?"

"I must have gotten shot... Huh, I didn't- I didn't realize."

Low and behold, there's blood streaming down your right side through your fingers where you hold it.

"What!?"

Yeah, Giorno makes sure to check you personally over after that.

Trish confuses you the most. She's always talking in slang, sometimes too fast to process.

She's a little more entitled than most. It's something she does get better about.

It just takes her a bit of time to adjust to how you operate. It takes you time to get used to her.

She does enjoy explaining things to you. Like the joys of high-end luxury goods. How sparkling mineral water is just so much better to the taste.

"I just don't get why... you'd..."

"It's natural. It's better for your skin, too. Vitamins are very important for health."

"I mean, I understand that it's just..."

Trish tilts her head urging you to go on.

"What are we talking about again?"

"Water preferences."

"Oh. Yeah. We got a bit off topic didn't we?"

"It's alright."

She has a habit of bouncing topic to topic. It helps how she summarizes it all before she leaves. You at least always have the gist.

.

.

.

[ᴡʀɪᴛɪɴɢ ᴍᴀsᴛᴇʀʟɪsᴛ]

- ☆

[staying-soft-reactions]

golden wind - m!jjba x chubby fem!reader

He holds your wrists above your head while having his way with you

featuring. bruno bucciarati, leone abbacchio, doppio, diavolo, risotto, prosciutto, melone, illuso cw/tags (19+ Only | Minors DNI). explicit smut, pinning down, mix of gentle and rough sex, praise, degradation, sub/dom vibes, edging, implied!cnc (diavolo), choking (diavolo), impact play/spanking (risotto), mild breeding kink (melone), mirror play (illuso)

Bruno Bucciarati

Bruno had you on your back, your body sinking into the mattress beneath him. He had been kissing you for what felt like hours, slow and deliberate, like he was taking you apart just to leave you aching for more.

Your hands kept grabbing at him desperately and he caught both wrists mid-reach and pinned them gently but firmly above your head.

"Ah-ah-ah," he softly tutted, smiling down at you with affectionate eyes.

He used his free hand to push the straps of your dress down your shoulders and worked the fabric lower, exposing your tits before bunching the rest of it around your waist for easier access. His caressed you tenderly, thumb brushing over your nipples until they hardened under his touch.

"Bruno...please."

"So impatient," he teased warmly. He slowly freed his cock and rubbed it gently between your slick folds, coating himself in your arousal. "Although I love how ready you always get for me."

He pushed inside you with one smooth, deep glide. "AhHh--Bruno!" you moaned, back arching as he stretched your pussy open.

He groaned softly, looking at where you were connected. "Perfect--Mm, you always feel incredible." He started with long, lazy thrusts, rolling his hips in a way that made your toes curl. Your soft curves bounced gently with each unhurried stroke while he kept your wrists pinned above your head.

"Look at you," he whispered lovingly, "taking me so beautifully. Your pussy flutters around me every time I go deep..." He angled his hips to brush that sweet spot inside you with every slow thrust. "I could do this for hours... just listening to your pretty little moans."

"Nngh please Bruno-- ahh! It's so good--♥!" you gasped, voice trembling with building pleasure.

He kept the pace sensual and steady, never rushing. His free hand continued exploring your body with softs touches, squeezing your tits, stroking your waist and hips, drawing more desperate sounds from your lips. His own soft, breathy moans mixed with yours as he savored every second inside you.

"Stay right there for me," he murmured, voice thick with affection. "Let me love you properly, amore."

He continued those deep, rolling thrusts, keeping you pinned and pleasured until your moans grew louder and more desperate.

Leone Abbacchio

One second you were yanking him down by his hair into a rough kiss. The next he had both your wrists slammed against the headboard, pinned with an iron grip.

"You scratched me," he yelled, glaring at the red mark on his chest.

Before you could answer, he shoved the hem of your dress up roughly around your waist and yanked your panties aside. He took hold of his cock and slapped it against your pussy a few times, teasing you cruelly.

"Leone--"

"Brats don't get to talk." He thrust into you with one brutal snap of his hips. "Fuuuck Leo--nngh!" you screamed, eyes rolling back.

"So fucking tight," he growled, setting an erratic pace with hard, fast, almost angry thrusts that made your entire body jolt violently underneath him, tits jiggling as he fucked you without mercy, wrists still trapped above your head.

"You like being pinned down like this don't you?" he taunted, voice rough. "Getting your cunt wrecked by someone you pissed off?" He leaned down and bit your nipple hard, before soothing it with his tongue. "Your pussy is creaming all over me... pathetic."

"Ahh!~♥ Fuck, please--hardeeer!~" you sobbed, legs shaking.

"Harder?" He laughed and slammed into you even more savagely, hips snapping with raw power. "You're always such a desperate whore when I hold you down." The wet, filthy slapping sounds of skin on skin filled the room as he drove deeper, grinding against your clit with every brutal thrust.

"Nngh no I'm-- ahh!" Your voice broke into loud, broken cries.

"Don't you dare fucking cum yet," he growled, tightening his grip on your wrists. "Not until I've used this pussy how I want." He kept pounding you mercilessly, silver hair messy, sweat dripping down his chest, filthy words pouring from his mouth the entire time.

"Pathetic. But you love this, don't you?" he mocked with a smirk tugged at his lips.

Only when you were shaking and nearly unconscious did he finally let you tip over the edge, still thrusting hard through your climax to keep you awake.

Doppio

You had been play-wrestling on the bed with him, until Doppio finally caught both your wrists and pinned them above your head. His face hovered over yours, flushed and breathing hard.

"Got you!" he panted triumphantly.

Then he froze, suddenly realizing how your plush thighs were spread around his hips, your chest heaving, and his cheeks turned bright red.

"Oh... wow," he whispered.

"Yeah, wow." you breathed. "I like this, don't let go. Not yet."

His fingers tightened nervously at first, then with more confidence when he saw the way you looked at him. He quickly pulled your shirt off and tossed his own aside, eyes wide as he took in your body.

"You're so pretty," he said, almost in awe. His free hand shyly explored you, cupping your tits, sliding over your soft stomach gently. "I've thought about this so much... is that okay?"

You arched into his touch and he whimpered. He freed leaking cock from the confines of his pants and rubbed it against your pussy with shaky hips.

"Can I? Please?" he asked, voice cracking.

At your nod, he pushed inside you slowly, gasping loudly as your tight heat enveloped him. "Mmn, Doppio--!" you moaned, back arching.

"Nngh! You're so warm and soft inside," he whined, eyes fluttering. "It feels way too good..." He started thrusting in eager uneven strokes, fast and needy, like he couldn't hold back. Your soft curves jiggled with every frantic roll of his hips while he kept your wrists pinned above your head.

"Doppio--! AH--Yes!" you cried out, smiling through your moans.

"You're squeezing me so much," he panted, voice high and desperate. "I can't stop-- Your pussy feels so good--I love how it sucks me in." His thrusts grew faster and deeper, his free hand gripping your waist as he buried his face in your neck, whimpering and moaning sweetly against your skin.

"Feels so good--I'm gonna lose my mind," he babbled, hips snapping eagerly. "You're so perfect--So wet--I want to stay inside you forever! ♥~"

He kept thrusting with enthusiastic, loving energy, never letting your wrists go, his cute desperate sounds mixing with your louder moans until both of you were lost in pleasure.

Diavolo

There was no buildup to it, You were standing by the window one moment, and slammed against the wall by Diavolo the next. His massive hand pinning both wrists above your head while the other gripped your throat.

"You spoke out of turn in front of my subordinates," he said, voice ice-cold.

He ripped your clothes off with zero patience and his eyes burned as he pulled out his heavy cock and lifted you effortlessly, forcing your legs around his waist.

"You wanted my attention?" he growled. "Then take it like you earned it."

He thrust up into you brutally, burying every inch in one savage stroke. "Mmmph--Dia!" you choked out.

"Silence," he snarled, but kept going. He slammed you against the wall with every snap of his hips, causing your tits to bounce as hard as they were able to while he fucked you with terrifying intensity.

"This pussy is mine," he hissed against your ear, grip on your wrists bruising. "I own every inch of you. Say it while I ruin you."

"Fuck!--I-It's yours! All yours--Only yoursss ♥" you moaned brokenly, voice cracking with every devastating thrust.

Diavolo's pace was unrelenting, hips driving up harder. "Louder," he demanded, teeth sinking into your neck. "I want to hear how a defiant little slut sounds when she's impaled on my cock." He angled his thrusts to hit deep and brutal, grinding against your most sensitive spot without mercy.

You could only answer with loud, sobbing moans as he fucked you senseless against the wall, never once letting your wrists escape his iron grip.

He carried you to the bed without pulling out, throwing you down and immediately resuming his ruthless rhythm. "What a slut," he growled, staring down with dark satisfaction. "Falling apart so easily. Pathetic... yet you take me so well."

His thrusts grew even harder, more possessive, like he was trying to brand himself into you. Low, dangerous groans escaped him as he drove deeper, claiming you completely until your screams of his name filled the entire room.

Risotto

He had been watching you all evening. Not obviously, but you felt those red and black eyes on you the entire night. The second the door locked, he moved.

He caught both your wrists in one massive hand and spun you around, pressing your front against the wall. He pinned your wrists high above your head, his towering body caging you in from behind.

"You've been testing me all night," he said roughly. "And don't think that I didn't notice how you wore nothing underneath this dress all evening."

His free hand shoved the hem of your dress up over your hips, confirming what he already suspected, that you were completely bare underneath.

He took out his cock and rubbed the fat head along your soaked folds, teasing you open before he thrust in with one powerful stroke, burying himself to the hilt.

"Risotto--ah fuuuahhck~♥" you moaned, cheek pressed against the cool wall.

He started fucking you with long, heavy thrusts, each one driving you up onto your toes as your ass rippled with every snap of his hips.

His free hand came down hard with a sharp, loud smack on your ass, the sting blooming hot across your skin.

"Mm," he hummed quietly.

Another firm spank landed, then another, perfectly timed with his deep thrusts. The mix of his cock stretching you open and the sharp impacts made your knees buckle.

"Stay still," he commanded when your hips tried to push back.

You moaned louder as he fucked you harder, his hand continuing its assault, leaving your ass burning. Every time your pussy clenched around him, he rewarded you with another hard smack.

"Eyes forward," he ordered when you tried to glance back.

His pace stayed devastatingly controlled, deep and punishing, while his palm kept coming down on your reddening ass. The wet sounds of your bare pussy taking his cock mixed with the sharp crack of skin on skin.

"Good," he said lowly, landing a particularly hard spank as he drove deep.

Your soft body jolted between him and the wall as he kept your wrists pinned high above your head the entire time, dominating you completely from behind while his free hand continued delivering firm, stinging slaps.

"You wanted this," he murmured, almost too quiet to hear, as his thrusts grew faster and more urgent.

Proscuitto

He was pacing the hotel room, tie loose, clearly at the end of his patience. You stepped in front of him, kissed him hard, and pushed him toward the bed, but he turned the tables instantly, grabbing both your wrists and slamming them above your head into the mattress as he loomed over you.

"Ah-ah, tonight we are doing it my way," he said sharply, eyes narrowed.

He stripped you efficiently, your shirt, skirt, and panties gone in seconds. His free hand explored with sharp precision, pinching your nipples, tracing your curves, then sliding between your thighs to spread your slick folds.

"Already this wet when we've barely done anything?" he scoffed, though his voice had grown husky. "Embarrassing."

"Prosciutto--"

He freed his flushed cock and rubbed the head firmly against your pussy before thrusting inside. "Ahh f-fuck--" you gasped sharply, back arching high.

"Watch your mouth," he growled, but his hips had already started moving with sharp, rhythmic thrusts that hit deep and precise every single time. Your soft body bounced beneath him from the force as he kept your wrists pinned firmly.

He angled his hips and drove against that sensitive spot inside you relentlessly. "Do you feel how perfectly you take me? It's like this cunt was made to squeeze my cock."

"Nngh--! Ahh--! Please--Proscu-oouuuu~♥" you moaned loudly, legs shaking around his waist.

His pace was relentless but controlled, every thrust calculated to drive you higher. "You can do better than that," he demanded, leaning down to bite your collarbone. "I want to hear exactly what I do to you." His free hand gripped your thigh, spreading you wider as he thrust harder, faster, the wet sounds of your pussy filling the room.

"Prosciutto I'm--I'm going to--" Your moans turned into broken sobs as pleasure coiled tighter.

"Don't hold back," he hissed. "I want you screaming my name."

He kept thrusting, pushing you closer and closer to the edge with every perfectly aimed stroke until you were trembling violently beneath him.

Melone

"You wore that on purpose, didn't you?" he said from the foot of the bed, eyes devouring you. "That neckline... the way it clings to your breasts. You knew I'd be staring."

"Maybe I did." You propped yourself on your elbows. "What are you going to do about it?"

Melone crawled over you instantly, catching both wrists and pinning them above your head, his grip was surprisingly strong as he pressed them firmly into the pillow.

His moved his free hand slid down your body, pushing the hem of your dress up around your hips. The easy access made him groan softly as he dragged his mouth down your throat, sucking hard at your pulse while grinding his clothes cock against your panties.

"So needy already," he whispered, voice trembling, although it wasn't clear if he was speaking about you or himself. He shoved your dress higher, bunching it around your waist, then pulled your panties aside before his fingers spread your dripping folds, circling your swollen clit before sliding two fingers deep inside you, curling them slowly.

"Ahh--mmm, Melone!~♥" you moaned loudly, snapping your thighs tightly around his hand.

He teased you relentlessly, pumping his fingers while his thumb worked your clit until you were trembling and begging. Only then did he free his cock and hold one of your thighs open so he could rub his head along your slick entrance, teasing you one last time before pushing inside you slowly, stretching you open inch by inch.

"Nngh--! So tight... so hot~♥" he groaned, eyes fluttering. "Your cunt is gripping me perfectly ♥"

He started thrusting in varying rhythms, deep and exploratory, then quick and shallow, chasing every moan you made.

"Listen to you," he panted, voice breaking. "Moaning so beautifully when I hit right here--" He angled his hips and drove against that sensitive spot, making you cry out sharply.

"Fuck.. your pussy keeps fluttering around me." His pace turned frantic, hips snapping with growing desperation. "This is exactly what you wanted, isn't it? Wearing this dress... giving me such easy access. Admit it, you wanted me to pin you down and breed you."

Illuso

You were on your back on his bed when Illuso caught both your wrists and pinned them above your head with one hand. His other hand tilted your chin upward, forcing your gaze to the large ceiling mirror.

"Look up," he commanded softly.

You did and you saw your body spread beneath him, thick thighs parted around his hips, wrists trapped in his grip, chest rising and falling rapidly. Illuso knelt between your legs, dark hair falling forward, watching you watch yourself.

"What do you see?" he asked.

"Your ridiculous mirror," you muttered.

"Look again." His free hand slid down your body while you watched from above. He pushed your shirt up and off, then dragged your bottoms down, exposing you completely. His fingers traced over your tits to the generous flare of your hips.

"There," he murmured. "See how beautiful you look when I touch you?"

Your face burned. "T-This is embarrassing."

"This is art." He pulled out his cock and rubbed the leaking head along your soaked folds, teasing your swollen clit. "Eyes on the mirror. Don't look away."

"Illu--"

He pushed inside you in one smooth, deep thrust. "SsssoO~♥" you moaned loudly as he stretched your tight pussy open.

"Nngh... fuck, look at that," he groaned, staring up at the mirror. "Watch how perfectly your cunt takes me." He began thrusting in slow, deliberate strokes, hips rolling with sensual control. You saw your curves bounce and ripple beneath him with every thrust while he kept your wrists restained.

"See how your tits move when I drive in deep?" he whispered, voice dripping with appreciation. "The way your thighs tremble... how your stomach quivers. You're stunning like this."

"Nngh--AhHh!" you cried out, unable to stop watching the erotic sight above you.

"Keep your eyes open," he ordered, thrusting harder, angling to hit that perfect spot inside you. "I want you to see what I see. How your pussy grips me... how your whole body responds when I fuck you like this." His pace quickened, the wet sounds of your bodies echoing

"Mmm, your expression is so beautiful when you're full of me," he panted, eyes locked on the mirror. "I could watch you take my cock forever."

He never released your wrists, forcing you to watch every thrust, every moan, every tremble in the mirror until you were shaking and crying out his name.

TAG LIST: @disturbyakuya

a/n. *throws smut grenade and runs off to meetings for the rest of the day*

[starzabi]

— hand headcanons !

just how their hands look and how good they are at using them … johnny, gyro && diego

nsfw warning … minors & ageless blogs dni

— johnny

his fingers and palms are of the same size but expect his hand to be rather rough due to the many years he’s spent on horseback and because of his stand. They’re probably covered with various fresh and healed scars as well.

but, since he’s spent many of his years with women, being promiscuous so he obviously knows how to use them.

he’s shy at first due to the lack of practice, he thinks he’s rusty but once he puts in a finger, followed by another and hears you moan out his name, he realises that he hasn’t lost his touch which makes him rather cocky—he tries to get you off on just his fingers and to his surprise, you actually do.

‘i still got it…’

— gyro

his fingers are very, very long and slender compared to his palm and my god, does he know how to take care of his hands. they’re incredibly soft, they feel so uncharacteristic—you couldn’t even believe that such pretty hands could belong to someone like gyro zeppeli.

and of course, given his past, he knows how to properly use them but unlike johnny, he isn’t the kind to make you cum from just that. instead, he teases you endlessly with his fingers and teases you even more when you begin to whine and beg for release.

oh and given his medical background, he’s so adept at using his fingers and pleasuring you perfectly since he’s so well versed in the human body <3 he’s such a perfect partner if it wasn’t for his dirty mouth and his constant teasing.

eventually, he does comply after listening to you beg for a release; but instead of using just his fingers, he ends up making you cum on his cock.

— diego

another pretty hand haver !! but unlike gyro, he has very roughed up hands as well and they seemed to have gotten much more hard since he gained his stand ability. though they retain some of their initial softness, you can’t deny that they haven’t gained a new texture that’s sort of similar to scales.

diego doesn’t prefer to use his hands, he’d rather have you coming on his dick but on days when you’re extra bratty, he might just use them but only to remind you of who’s in charge.

he’s absolutely filthy with his words when he’s using fingers—he’s filthy all the time but it somehow gets worse when he sees you be a moaning mess from just his three or four fingers.

it’s an ego booster too to him, to see you whining like this—he can’t help but smirk but he never makes you cum though when he uses his hands…