#fugo x reader

He remembers the precise shade of hurt in your eyes before you nodded accepted his words and walked out.

The nightmare skipped forward, forcing him to witness the consequences. He was a ghost in his own city watching you in the piazza. You weren't alone. Someone else was sitting across from you, presenting you with a carefully chosen bouquet of deep red carnations a traditional, serious declaration of courtship.

In the dream, Bruno had to watch you blush, reach out, and accept them. He saw you smile a smile that used to belong to him, completely devoted to another man.

The suffocating realization that he had willingly handed your heart to someone else paralyzed him. He tried to scream, to step forward and tear the flowers away, but his feet were anchored to the cobblestones.

Bruno snaps awake with a sharp ragged gasp, his hand immediately flying to his chest where his heart is hammering violently against his ribs. His skin is slick with cold sweat.

For a terrifying three seconds, the darkness of the bedroom feels like the continuation of that lonely piazza.

Then, he hears it the soft, rhythmic sound of your breathing right beside him.

He turns his head so fast his neck aches. There you are. You’re curled up on your side, completely buried beneath the heavy duvet, utterly safe and entirely his. The sheer wave of relief that crashes over him is so intense it leaves him dizzy.

Bruno doesn’t care if he wakes you he needs to anchor himself back to reality. He shifts closer, his large, calloused hands trembling slightly as he reaches out to cup your face. His thumb brushes over your cheekbone with desperate tenderness. When you stir, humming softly and blinking open sleep heavy eyes, he can’t contain a shaky sigh.

"Bruno...?" you murmur, your voice thick with sleep as you instinctively lean into his palm. "What's wrong? Are you okay?"

He doesn't answer with words right away. Instead, he leans down, pressing his forehead against yours, burying his face in the crook of your neck. His arms wrap around your waist, pulling you so flush against his chest that there is absolutely no space left between you.

"I am now," he breathes, his voice incredibly rough and uncharacteristically vulnerable. "Just let me hold you for a moment please."

He spends the rest of the night tracing lines over your back, kissing your brow, and silently vowing to never let a single foolish thought of pushing you away ever cross his mind again.

⋅˚₊‧ ୨୧ ‧₊˚ ⋅ ⋅˚₊‧ ୨୧ ‧₊˚ ⋅ ⋅˚₊‧ ୨୧ ‧₊˚ ⋅ ⋅˚₊‧ ୨୧ ‧₊˚ ⋅ ⋅˚₊‧୨

Leone Abbacchio.

Leone’s nightmare fed directly into his deepest, most deeply rooted insecurities. When you had approached him with open vulnerability, confessing your feelings, his immediate defense mechanism was anger.

In the dream he scoffed, crossing his arms and spitting out cruel, dismissive words "I don't have time for this. You're delusional if you think someone like me could ever care about you. Find someone else to bother." He watched your face fall, the light in your eyes completely dying out.

It soon shifted to a local café months later. Abbacchio was sitting in the corner, nursing a drink, when you walked in. But you weren't looking for him. You were accompanied by a man who looked respectable and stable, and untainted by the mafia everything Leone felt he wasn't.

He watched in agonizing detail as this man pulled out your chair, ordered your favorite pastry before you even had to ask, and placed a gentle, courting hand over yours. You laughed bright and happy leaning into the stranger’s touch.

The dream forced Leone to sit there, invisible and completely forgotten, realizing that by trying to "protect" you from his darkness, he had permanently locked himself out of your warmth. The agonizing grief of being entirely replaced woke him up.

Abbacchio bolts upright, a choked curse leaving his throat as his eyes snap open in the dark. He’s breathing hard, his fists clenched so tightly in the bedsheets that his knuckles turn white.

His chest feels tight, a heavy, hollow ache settling deep in his lungs. The rejection felt so real, the sight of you with someone else so vivid, that he genuinely believes it happened for a horrific moment.

He turns his head slowly, terrified of what he will or won't see.

When his eyes adjust to the dim moonlight filtering through the blinds, he sees the silhouette of your tangled hair on the pillow. You've hogged most of the blanket, as usual, shivering slightly in the cool night air.

The contrast between the cold nightmare and your living, breathing presence makes his throat tight. He lets out a long shaky exhale, rubbing a hand over his face to wipe away the sweat.

He shifts his massive frame closer, practically hovering over you. He doesn't want to wake you because he thinks he'll look pathetic, but he has to touch you.

He gently reaches out, his long fingers tangling into your hair, smoothing it away from your face. His touch is incredibly light, a stark contrast to his usual heavy handed nature.

You shift in your sleep, feeling his warmth, and immediately scoot closer to him, burying your nose into his bare chest and draping an arm over his waist.

Abbacchio freezes, his heart swelling so violently it almost hurts. He wraps his heavy arms around you, locking you against him like a vice. He buries his face in your hair, inhaling the familiar scent of your shampoo.

"Damn it" he mutters under his breath, a faint, rough chuckle hiding the residual tremor in his voice. He presses a firm, lingering kiss to the top of your head. You're here. You're his. He grips you just a little bit tighter, silently cursing himself for ever letting his mind create a world where he let you go.

⋅˚₊‧ ୨୧ ‧₊˚ ⋅ ⋅˚₊‧ ୨୧ ‧₊˚ ⋅ ⋅˚₊‧ ୨୧ ‧₊˚ ⋅ ⋅˚₊‧ ୨୧ ‧₊˚ ⋅ ⋅˚₊‧୨

Guido Mista.

Mista’s nightmare was loud and it started with an argument, he was being stubborn, letting his anxieties about the gang life get the better of him. When you tried to talk to him about a future together, he panicked, waving his hands defensively and laughing it off with a sharp, dismissive edge.

"Look, it’s not that serious, alright? We’re just having fun. Don’t read too much into it." He remembered the exact moment your expression shifted from hopeful to entirely closed off.

the dream fast-forwarded. It was a bright Sunday afternoon, and he was walking through the market. He spotted you near a fruit stand, but before he could call out your name, another man stepped up beside you.

This man was carrying a basket filled with traditional gifts fine wines, specific local delicacies the unmistakable signs of an old-school Italian courtship. Mista watched, completely frozen, as you accepted the basket with a soft, appreciative smile, tilting your head up to let this other man kiss your cheek.

The absolute rage and jealousy that flared in Mista's chest was suffocating, but when he tried to draw his stand or his gun to intervene, Sex Pistols refused to come out, squeaking that he had lost his chance. He was entirely powerless, watching you walk away on another man's arm.

Mista wakes up with a violent jerk, nearly kicking the blankets off the bed. He’s tangled in the sheets, his heart drumming a frantic, erratic beat against his ribs. "No, wait-" he blurts out, his voice cracking in the quiet room. He looks around wildly, his eyes darting to the corners of the dark bedroom, his mind still half-convinced he’s standing in that crowded market watching you walk away.

He turns around panting, and his eyes land on you.

You’ve been awoken by his sudden movement. You're blinking up at him, shifting on the mattress, reaching out a sleepy hand to touch his tense arm.

"Mista...?" you mumble, your voice laced with worry. "Hey, what's wrong? Did you have a bad dream?"

Seeing you look at him with nothing but pure concern, no other man in sight completely hurts him. He doesn't say a word. He just lunges forward, collapsing into your space.

He buries his face directly into the crook of your neck, his arms wrapping around your shoulders so tightly it almost takes your breath away. He’s trembling, his breath hot and fast against your skin.

"Guido, you're shaking," you soften, immediately wrapping your arms around his back, rubbing soothing circles into his spine.

"Don't go anywhere," he mumbles, his voice entirely muffled against your skin, sounding incredibly small. "Just... don't look at anyone else. You're mine, right? Tell me you're mine."

You can’t help but chuckle softly at his sudden clinginess, tightening your grip on him. "Of course I'm yours, you idiot. I'm right here. I'm not going anywhere."

Mista lets out a long, shuddering breath, the tension slowly draining from his shoulders as your words sink in. He shifts slightly, pulling back just enough to pepper your face, your jaw, and your lips with dozens of frantic, adoring kisses until you're laughing out loud

He doesn't care how ridiculous he's being he just needs to make sure you know exactly who you belong to.

⋅˚₊‧ ୨୧ ‧₊˚ ⋅ ⋅˚₊‧ ୨୧ ‧₊˚ ⋅ ⋅˚₊‧ ୨୧ ‧₊˚ ⋅ ⋅˚₊‧ ୨୧ ‧₊˚ ⋅ ⋅˚₊‧୨

Narancia Ghirga.

In the dream, he had tried to act tough and cool, brushing off your affection because the guys were teasing him about being whipped.

When you tried to hold his hand or talk about making things official, he had laughed it off, pulling away and saying something incredibly stupid and careless "Come on, don't be so clingy! We're just hanging out, it's not a big deal." The immediate, quiet drop of your shoulders and the way you looked at the floor made his stomach drop.

Later, Narancia was walking through the crowd, looking for you, when he finally spotted your familiar figure near the fountain. But you weren't waiting for him.

A taller, sophisticated looking man was standing with you, holding a massive, beautifully wrapped basket of traditional sweets and pastries

Narancia watched, his heart breaking into a million pieces, as you accepted the basket with a shy, beautiful blush. He tried to push through the crowd, screaming your name, but the noise of the festival drowned him out, and the people formed an impenetrable wall.

He had to watch you walk away into the colorful lights, completely hand in hand with someone who actually appreciated what they had.

Narancia wakes up with a loud, terrified gasp, kicking his legs wildly against the tangled blankets. "No, wait! Stop!" he cries out into the dark, his eyes wide and brimming with sudden, panicked tears.

He sits up instantly, looking around the room frantically, his chest heaving as his mind scrambles to separate the dream from reality.

He turns over on his side, his breath catching in his throat when he sees you.

You’ve been jolted awake by his loud shout and sudden movements. Blinking sleepily in the dim light, you sit up, rubbing your eyes. "Narancia...? Sweetie, what's wrong? Are you okay?"

The moment he hears your voice sweet, worried, and completely directed at him the dam breaks. Narancia doesn't care about looking cool or tough anymore.

He launches himself across the bed, throwing his arms around your neck and burying his face in your chest. He is sobbing openly, his shoulders shaking violently as he clings to your pajamas like a terrified kid.

"Whoa, hey, I've got you," you soften completely, surprised by the intensity of his grip, immediately wrapping your arms around his back and rocking him gently. "It was just a bad dream, Nara. I'm right here."

"I thought- I thought you left me!" he wails softly, his voice muffled against your neck. "I dreamed I said something really stupid and you went and found some guy who bought you gifts and you smiled at him and you wouldn't look at me anymore! Don't leave me, please! I'm sorry I'm an idiot!"

You can't help but feel a rush of intense affection for him, tightening your hold and smoothing down his messy, sweat-dampened hair. "I'm not going anywhere, you dummy. I don't want anyone else's gifts, and I definitely don't want anyone else. Look at me."

He pulls back just enough to look at you with tear stained cheeks and big, puppy dog eyes. You reach up, wiping his tears away with your thumbs before pressing a firm, reassuring kiss to his lips.

Narancia lets out a long, shaky sniffle, finally calming down as he buries his face back into your neck, refusing to let go of you for the entire rest of the night.

⋅˚₊‧ ୨୧ ‧₊˚ ⋅ ⋅˚₊‧ ୨୧ ‧₊˚ ⋅ ⋅˚₊‧ ୨୧ ‧₊˚ ⋅ ⋅˚₊‧ ୨୧ ‧₊˚ ⋅ ⋅˚₊‧୨

Pannacotta Fugo.

Fugo’s nightmare dug sharp claws directly into his greatest flaw and his deepest fear his own volatile temper. In the dream, you had approached him during a quiet moment, offering a gentle, vulnerable confession of your feelings. Instead of accepting it a sudden, irrational spike of panic and unworthiness flared within him.

He snapped. He remembers the vicious, cutting words that flew from his mouth, the way his voice echoed off the walls as he shouted that he didn't need the distraction, that you were smothering him, and that he wanted nothing to do with you. He watched you shrink back, tears welling in your eyes before you turned and fled.

The nightmare then jumped forward with sickening clarity. He was standing outside a small, sunlit bookstore in the city center. Through the glass, he saw you. You looked happier, calmer, and completely at ease. A man someone stable, gentle, and utterly devoid of the violent cracks that fractured Fugo's psyche was standing beside you.

This man presented you with a bound collection of poetry a thoughtful and classical gesture of courtship. Fugo watched in agonizing, silent fury as you took the book, your eyes lighting up with a brilliant smile as you leaned up to kiss the stranger's cheek.

The realization that his own monstrous temper had permanently driven you into the arms of someone safe paralyzed him. He wanted to smash the glass, to tear the city apart, but he was entirely locked out, forced to watch his own self-destruction play out to the end.

Fugo bolts upright with a sharp, choked gasp, his chest heaving as if he had just run a marathon. He is drenched in a cold, sticky sweat, his fists clenched so hard his fingernails dig painfully into his palms.

For a horrific, disorienting moment, the red-hot anger and profound grief of the dream blur with the darkness of the bedroom, and he feels an overwhelming urge to punch the wall just to ground himself.

a soft sleepy sigh breaks the silence right next to him.

Fugo freezes, his head snapping to the side. The moonlight cuts through the curtains, illuminating your face. You are curled up securely beside him, completely unbothered, deeply asleep, and safe. The sheer momentum of relief hits him like a physical blow, making his throat tight and his eyes sting.

He shudders, closing his eyes tightly as he tries to regulate his ragged breathing, terrified that his chaotic energy will wake you. Slowly, with a level of hesitation that betrays how deeply shaken he is, he reaches out.

His hand trembles slightly as he rests his knuckles against your jawline, letting the steady warmth of your skin melt away the residual ice of the nightmare.

When you stir against his touch, murmuring his name in a soft, completely trusting whisper, Fugo breaks. He shifts closer, sliding his arms around you with a desperate, careful tightness, burying his face directly into your shoulder.

"I'm sorry," he whispers into your skin, his voice cracked and raw with an emotion he rarely lets show. "I'm so sorry..."

You don't know what he's apologizing for, but you instinctively wrap your arms around his neck, pulling him closer.

Fugo holds onto you like a drowning man, silently swearing to the universe that he will spend every waking hour mastering his demons just to ensure he never gives you a reason to look elsewhere

⋅˚₊‧ ୨୧ ‧₊˚ ⋅ ⋅˚₊‧ ୨୧ ‧₊˚ ⋅ ⋅˚₊‧ ୨୧ ‧₊˚ ⋅ ⋅˚₊‧ ୨୧ ‧₊˚ ⋅ ⋅˚₊‧୨

Giorno Giovanna.

Because Giorno prides himself on his absolute composure and strategic mind, his nightmare targeted his internal sense of control. In the dream, he had analyzed his position as the newly crowned Capo of the passion-filled underworld and came to a cold conclusion involving you in his life would inevitably make you a target.

He recalls sitting behind his massive mahogany desk, looking at you with a completely expressionless, stoic facade as he told you that your arrangement was over. He remembers the quiet dignity with which you accepted his decision, refusing to beg as you turned around and walked out of the estate.

Slowly the dream had shifted into a warm sun drenched villa in the countryside months later. Giorno was standing on a distant hill, watching through a pair of binoculars like a common scout. You were in the garden.

A man a civilian with clean hands and a peaceful life was walking alongside you, holding a basket of freshly picked figs and a single, perfect white rose. Giorno watched as you smiled a soft, untroubled smile a look of absolute peace you could never have achieved under the shadow of his criminal empire

The sheer, agonizing weight of his own choice crushed him. He had achieved everything he ever wantedthe throne, the power, the respect but he was entirely alone, looking down at the only person who truly loved him for who he was, completely happy in the arms of a stranger.

Giorno opens his eyes without a sound, but the sheer velocity with which his consciousness snaps back into reality is jarring.

His eyes are wide in the darkness, fixed on the ceiling as his heart beats a frantic, uncharacteristic rhythm against his ribs. His fingers twitch against the silk sheets, his mind racing to process the hollow, freezing void that had just opened up in his chest during the dream.

He doesn't make a sound, but his head turns slowly, toward the other side of the bed.

There you are. You are sleeping peacefully, your face illuminated by the soft, silvery moonlight. One of your hands is resting open on the pillow between you, completely accessible.

Giorno lets out a very slow, very quiet breath through his nose, the icy dread in his veins slowly beginning to thaw, he shifts his body with fluid grace, closing the distance between you until he can feel the ambient heat radiating from your skin.

He reaches out, sliding his long, elegant fingers into yours, interlocking them tightly. He presses his palm flat against yours, as if verifying the physical reality of your presence.

The movement stirs you slightly. You shift, your eyes fluttering open just a fraction, humming a soft, questioning sound when you feel the tight grip on your hand. "Giorno...?"

"Hush, mio cuore" he murmurs, his voice a low, velvety rasp that carries a rare, hidden tremor. "Go back to sleep. Everything is alright."

Instead of letting go, he pulls your intertwined hands up to his lips, pressing a long lingering, and incredibly fervent kiss to the back of your knuckles, then to your wrist, where he can feel the steady reassuring thrum of your pulse.

He shifts even closer draping a heavy protective arm over your waist, anchoring you to his chest. As you drift back into sleep resting your head under his chin

“How did you even know I was awake…”

He doesn’t answer, laughing against your skin instead, pulling you closer to his body as his fingers thrum against your stomach rhythmically…

There’s no way.

“Caesar… Were you using Hamon in your sleep?”

“No… I would never…”

You laugh in disbelief as you turn your head to look at him, only for him to already be watching you with a lazy grin on his face, eyes dropping to your lips for a second before glancing back up with a light blush.

“You’re insane, Caesar.”

“You’re beautiful.”

He’s always so much flirtier in the morning when he wakes next to you, hands gentle as he traces light patterns on your skin with a sweet smile.

“Will you shower with me, amore?”

“Will you keep your hands to yourself this time?”

“Of course I will.”

He doesn’t.

He never does…

But the sweet look on his face when he pulls you closer to him under the cascading water makes you not mind so much, your hands nudging him back so you can try to grab the body wash. 

“Love… I can’t get my stuff if you just pull me back in.”

“That’s unfortunate, you’ll just have to stay here with me forever then.”

His eyes are relaxed as he looks down at you, fingers brushing your ribs as he leans to kiss you lazily, a content hum in his throat when you lean into him more.

Maybe staying like this for a little while longer wouldn’t be the worst thing in the world. 

When you do eventually make him pull away from you so you can wash your hair he pouts immediately, a small huff on his lips as he turns and lets you run your fingers though his hair, a complaint on his lips as your nails rake against his scalp.

“You wound me, amore… You won’t even let me look at you, what am I…”

It’s immediately cut off with a low whine when you pull his hair, a blush resting on his cheeks as he stops talking in embarrassment and lets you keep massaging the shampoo into his hair before kissing his shoulder and rinsing it out fully.

“You can look back at me now, you’re so dramatic, my love.”

He’s pouting slightly still when he looks back at you, not lasting long when a giddy smile pulls at his lips again just from seeing you.

A kiss pressed to your cheek as he turns the water off and helps you out with gentle hands before pulling you close to him again with a laugh when you try to pull away and reach for the towel before you get cold.

“Love… Do you really want Joseph to come looking for you?”

“Amore, if he even dares to come in here…”

He sighs anyways and lets you pull away, you both know what Joseph is like. His eyes watch you intently as you wrap the towel comfortably around you before you hand him one with a sweet smile and pulling him out of the room.

But him complying never lasts very long.

“Love… Please sit so I can dry your hair…”

“But you’re so warm, vita mia.”

His arms are wrapped around you as you stand in the middle of your shared bedroom, his chest resting against your back as he leans his head into your throat. Your fingers gently pull his hands from against your stomach so you can get him to sit down for you. 

But you should have moved quicker when he finally sits, a huff falling from him as you push him into the seat carefully. 

The grin on his face widening as he drags you down onto his lap with a little laugh when you glare playfully down at him, you can’t help the twitch of your lips as you sigh and relax against him.

“Will you help me today, tesoro?”

“You ask me that every day…”

“Would you like me to stop?”

He leans in softly to press his lips to yours with a gentle hum, leaning away as he pulls you closer and reaches over onto the dresser to grab his eyeliner.

“Don’t you dare… I like doing your makeup.”

He watches you settle against him lazily as you take the pencil from him, holding his face in your hand so he doesn’t move while you put it on.

But you know better.

He leans in immediately to kiss you the second you move closer before you pull away slightly with a knowing glare, a soft sigh on your lips when you kiss him quickly anyway, just once. Not that he doesn’t try to keep you pressed against him with a pitiful whine when you don’t let him kiss you again.

“Stop moving. Let me do these first…”

“I’ll try my best. You’re just too tempting, amore.”

You exhale lightly as you focus, making sure that his little triangles are straight as you lean back to check them with each other before fixing the one on the right with a faint hum.

“Okay… All done.”

“No, don’t move yet…”

“Caesar, we have training soon.”

He doesn’t let you move anyway with a groan in protest when you try to, leaning in to kiss you softly even though he knows your lipstick will transfer again.

When he pulls back you can see the light smirk on his now stained lips, waiting patiently with a sad look on his face. Rolling your eyes as you cup his jaw in your fingers and lean up slightly to kiss his forehead before pulling away, making him grin.

“You’re so dramatic.”

Polnareff - 

You can’t help the grin pulling at your lips as you watch Polnareff brush his hair after his shower, pout evident on his face while he tries to detangle it before catching your eyes in the mirror.

“Mon amour… Are you laughing at me?!”

“No no no no! I wasn’t, I swear Jean!”

You giggle out little pleas as you try to get off the bed before he can catch you, standing quickly as he grabs your waist before you can bolt away from him. A dramatic gasp on his lips when he holds you still in front of him while he looks down at you.

“You were going to run from me!”

“You always tickle me…”

“I would never!”

His fingers are already against your ribs before he can even finish his sentence, watching you writhe trying to get out of his strong grip with desperate begs falling from you in between your giggling.

You’re at least thankful he never keeps it up for very long when he pulls you into his chest with a deep sigh, water from his hair dripping onto you.

“Pol… It’s cold.”

“You should have thought about that before you laughed at me…”

“You just looked so cute.”

A hum in his throat as he pulls away to look down at you accusingly before leaning to press his lips to yours when he decided you were telling the truth.

When he pulls away slightly you’re both grinning, the gentle glow of the sunrise licking at your now wet skin, he is not good at drying his hair.

At all…

“Come on, let me do it for you.”

Your fingers ghost across his as you take his hand and pull him back over to his dresser, making him sit with a sweet smile when he looks up at you like you’re a deity.

“I love you…”

“For doing your hair for you?”

“No! Well I suppose yes that too… But no!”

“I love you too Pol.”

His sigh is almost a huff as he relaxes back into the too small wooden seat, a lazy smile tugging at his lips as he pulls you onto his lap making the chair creak loudly under both of you. This was not made for two people… 

“You should have joined me in the shower this morning… But no… Instead you abandoned me in bed and went to shower by yourself.”

You knew it was a terrible idea…

“Jean, you wouldn’t get up and I felt gross.”

“What am I supposed to do when the person I love doesn’t even love me back… There is nothing that could fix my broken heart… Maybe a kiss could tempt me to forgive you.”

“You’re so dramatic in the morning.”

“How dare you! I’m dramatic all the time!”

You laugh as you lean and kiss him softly, grabbing the brush from the dresser as he groans pathetically into your mouth before you pull away.

“Forgive me yet?”

“Another… Please…”

His eyes are wide and pleading as he tries to pull you back down to kiss him again, almost a whine from him when you stop just before pressing your lips to his.

“We have to meet up with the group soon, Jean.”

“Just one more?”

You can never say no to him like this, sweet begs for you to kiss him just once more… It’s never just one, but you do it all the same.

His arm wraps around your waist as you press your lips back to his, his other hand immediately keeping your head still so you can't pull away from him for a few seconds as you laugh softly into his mouth.

When he finally lets you go he looks ecstatic, a sweet grin on his face as you finally get to run the brush through his hair.

He hates using a hair dryer, says it “burns his precious hair.” But you’re always careful, relaxing into him as you turn it on the coolest setting, brush keeping it nice and straight as you hum lightly until it's fully smooth and dry between your fingers.

“Can I style it for you, my love?”

“I’d let you do anything you wanted to me…”

“Jean…”

Your amused giggle makes him grin more, fingers entwining into yours as you lean to grab the hair gel he uses, running your fingers through his hair with some on as you try to style it with one hand. Try.

“Can I move my hand without you getting pouty my love?”

“No…”

You wiggle your hand out of his anyway to do his hair, watching as he looks away from you dramatically, chin raised in defiance even when you can see him glance at you every few seconds.

His pout slips from him when you claw your nails lightly against his scalp before styling his hair fully and leaning closer to wait for him to turn and kiss you.

“You don’t love me, Jean?”

“You let go of my hand.”

You curl your hands back into his when he finally looks back at you with sad eyes and a smile tugging at his lips.

“I promise I’ll never let go again.”

Kakyoin - 

The soft knock on your hotel door wakes you with a panicked jump, not expecting to be woken so early in the morning, the sun not peeking over the horizon yet as you sit up with a shuddering huff.

The floor is cold as you step onto it with bare feet, quickly padding to the door and opening it with a small yawn into the back of your hand.

“I’m sorry… Did I wake you?”

“Hey Nori, what time is it even?”

He looks guilty as he takes in how exhausted you look, debating just going back to his shared room and leave you to sleep more. Even after he woke you up.

“Uh around 5…”

“Can’t sleep?”

Your voice is still laced with exhaustion as you try to focus on him more, he looks just as tired as you but you can tell there’s something else wrong.

“I had another nightmare. I didn’t even think before coming here. I just… I had to see you.”

“Come in, Nori.”

He hesitates in the doorway when you move, guilt still curling into him for disturbing you over something so stupid, quickly slipping in when you tilt your head and motion him to enter.

Your hand entwining with his as he passes, closing the door with a soft click and pulling him over to the small bed so can get in beside you. 

“Do you want to talk about it?”

He immediately shakes his head as if he can’t stomach the thought of even remembering it, sitting down on the edge of the bed when you lay down with an understanding hum.

His hand raises to rub lightly at his tired eyes as you poke his arm to get his attention, patting the spot by your side when he looks down at you.

There’s a sweet smile on his lips when he lays down and curls into the covers facing you, a sigh into your skin as he relaxes and wraps his arm around you.

“Thank you for this… I’m sorry for waking you.”

“Nori. It’s okay, I want you to come find me when you need me okay? Awake or not.”

His content hum tickles your throat as he nuzzles further into you, another thanks whispered into your skin as sleep claws at him, unable to stay awake when he’s so comfortable in your presence.

Your fingers are gentle in his hair as you ease him lightly into sleep, tiredness pulling at you but wanting to make sure he’s okay before you let it take you again.

You groan when you wake to hear the incessant knock as Polnareff shouts through the door with an audible grin.

“Wake up you two! Breakfast is in two hours and I’m hungry so hurry up!”

“Why does he think if we get up faster that we get food quicker?”

Kakyoin’s voice is a soft tired whisper into your throat as he wakes with you, an amused laugh on your lips as he complains lightly and pulls you closer into him.

“And he acts like he doesn't always take the longest to get ready anyway.”

His hum in agreement is almost sassy when he leans back to look at you, eyes lidded as he watches you with a grin pulling at his lips.

“Don’t look at me like that… I know I look…”

“Perfect,”

Your cheeks flush under his admiring gaze as you try to cover your face, only for him to grab your wrist with a soft kiss to your hand and a laugh when you get more flustered.

“Can you help me with my hair? I don’t want to go back to my room yet…”

“We have to get up for that.”

“Good point.”

You lean in softly to kiss his cheek as you sigh and get up anyway, his hand slipping from your back as you stand and stretch with a little groan.

He watches you the entire time with a fond look, gentle smile on his lips as he debates getting up or just admiring you for longer, your eyes widening slightly as you turn and see him staring so intently.

“If you don’t get up, Polnareff will kill us both.”

“Also a good point.”

He looks so sleepy when he sits on the comfortable chair by the dresser, eyes tired as they follow you while you find your hair spray, snapping from his daze when you come to stand in front of him.

And he definitely looks like he’s up to something…

His mischievous smirk widening when you try to step away before he grabs you... Too slow.

His hand wrapping tenderly around your wrist as he pulls you on his lap with a chuckle when your eyes widen in shock.

“Nori! You could have just asked.”

“Sorry…”

He looks sheepish when he looks away from you, a soft twitch of his lips when you lean in and kiss the corner of his mouth lightly before pulling away and grabbing the brush, running it through his hair carefully with a hum at how soft it is even after he’s been sleeping.

“You’re so pretty.”

His face flushes at your praise, feeling you split his hair into sections as you style it for him with a laugh when he can’t meet your eyes.

“You… I’m not…”

“Hmm. Yes you are.”

Your fingers move from his hair to his jaw as you make him look back at you with a sweet smile on your lips, watching his blush deepen with a complaining groan as you make him more embarrassed.

“The prettiest. I mean it Nori. You’re so perfect.”

His hand immediately moves from your waist to cover your eyes so you can’t see him, an amused giggle pulled from you at his dramatic fluster.

“Stop it…”

“I can’t do your hair if you blind me.”

“Stop saying I'm pretty…”

“Is cute better, my love?”

Jotaro - 

“You’re staring.”

“Am I not allowed to admire my boyfriend?”

“No.”

It took you a long time to even tell if it was annoyance or embarrassment that makes his tone so gruff and snappy.

But like this it’s easier to tell, his hat on the dresser as he lays in bed with his head resting on his hand as you get ready for the day after your shower, his eyes following your every movement as you dry your hair.

His blush is faint but painfully obvious in the soft sunlight as it illuminates the room, it’s not as early as you’d like it to be but at least you don’t have to leave just yet.

Your gaze staying on his face in the mirror as he admires you, the tired look on his face replacing the usual annoyance that he wears.

“Did you know there’s a shark that can live to over 500 years old?”

“Really? Will you tell me more?”

“It’s slow as shit. But it’s also poisonous so it doesn’t have any predators.”

He’s much more talkative in the mornings, little facts slipping from him about things he’s been reading about whenever he gets time to. It’s usually sea life… Not that you mind.

“Wait how slow?”

“You getting ready is faster.”

“I am not that slow! You’re not even out of bed anyway.”

“Because you’re so slow. I could shower and you still won’t be done.”

The soft teasing is almost loving with the way he’s still staring at you with adoration in his eyes, watching you pout as you turn back to the mirror and continue drying your hair as he drags himself out of bed and to your side.

“I’m just kidding, take your time. I’m going to shower and if you’re done by the time I get out, I'll be pissed.”

He leans down to press his lips against your temple with a gentle threat before he rubs your shoulder and steps away to head to the bathroom.

“Ohh... I’m so scared…”

He can't bite back the grin as he moves from you, an annoyed mutter that you already know is “good grief.” even if you don’t hear it as the door clicks shut behind him and the sound of the water fills the small hotel room.

Damn.

Maybe you are slow…

You still aren’t done when he steps out of the bathroom, slipping his shirt over his head with a huff when it sits too tight against his skin.

“Good.”

“That shark actually might be faster than me… I can’t get my make up right.”

“You look fine.”

You exhale softly as you meet his eyes in the mirror, he might not be good with words but his eyes tell you everything he refuses to say.

He debates for a second to just get his hat and not bother to fix how fucked up his hair looks before sighing and stepping up behind you as if you can read his mind for what he wants you to do.

“You know you’re a little ominous just standing behind me and glaring at me Jo…”

He still doesn’t answer you as his fingers curl lightly into your hair, enjoying the feeling of how soft it is without messing it up and leaning to kiss your temple again.

“Will you do my hair? …Please.”

The please is absolutely an afterthought when he hesitates, almost shy as he asks you for help even though you’ve been dating long enough you’d think he wouldn’t be so embarrassed.

But you sure as hell are not passing up the chance when he asks you so nicely. For him anyway, standing immediately and getting him to sit in the comfortable chair.

“How did you manage to get it tangled without even brushing it?”

“Just fix it.”

“Of course I’ll fix it for you, thank you for asking so sweetly. My loving boyfriend.”

“Please... Fix it.”

You hum softly as you grab the hairdryer from the dresser and hesitate for a second, a little grin pulling at your lips as you climb on his lap and settle comfortably against him, even as he glares down at you.

“Good grief.”

“Would you like me to move?”

He doesn’t answer you but his hands immediately hold you in place, fingers gentle against your sides as his thumbs rub faint shapes into your skin. His eyes look down at his lap before looking to the side away from the mirror as his cheeks flame under your soft teasing.

“Aww my love. You’re blushing.”

“No I'm not.”

You can’t help but tease more as you turn his head to force him to look into the mirror, his blush deepening when you coo in his ear lightly.

“Still not blushing?”

“I will push you off.”

You don’t goad him further as you let go of his jaw and kiss his forehead with a light hum before flicking on the hair dryer and running your hands through his hair as you dry it.

He looks so relaxed like this, deep breathing as his eyes flutter shut, enjoying the feel of your fingers against his scalp. 

“You’re so cute…”

He opens his eyes to lazily glare at you but he can’t even look intimidating as your nails run against his skin, eyes shutting again with a low hum in his throat as you turn off the small drier and put it back on top of the wood.

“Can I style it for you as well?”

“I suppose…”

“I’m going to bite you, Jotaro.”

“I’ll bite you harder.”

That shark is real btw, they're called Greenland sharks. They're almost fully blind and move less than 1mph and have a lifespan of 270-520 ish.

Josuke -

You should have known.

“No… Babe, don’t leave! You’re so warm… I’ll freeze!”

His voice is desperate in your ear before his arm pulls you even closer to his chest, begging pleas into your hair making it almost impossible to bite back your laugh.

He’s so dramatic in the morning… But if you laugh you know it’ll only be worse.

“Josuke… I need to shower, it’s too hot.”

“But I thought you loved me…”

A gentle sigh falls from your lips at how devastated he sounds, for a second you think he’s being serious until he giggles but you still stop trying to wiggle out of his grasp anyway, he isn’t subtle, you can feel the smile on his face when he moves to press his head back into your shoulder.

“Don’t you have plans today Jo?”

“They can wait, they’ll understand… This is important.”

“No… This is kidnapping.”

The heat is uncomfortable against your skin already when you feel his warm breath against the back of your neck, he’s such an asshole but you can’t help but find it incredibly endearing that he wants to be around you so much.

Even if it’s at the cost of both of your comfort.

“Josuke, 5 minutes. I mean it, how are you so warm?”

“I guess I'm just too hot for you…”

“Are you saying I’m not hot…?”

He can feel his smile fall immediately as he pulls away from you, staring at the back of your head as you try to stay quiet.

His fingers immediately poke your sides to get you to look at him as you bite your lip not to laugh, your body trembling slightly as you silently giggle.

“Babe? Wait... Are you crying? No no no, I’m sorry I didn’t mean you weren’t hot… You’re so hot, please! You believe me, right?”

He practically climbs over you as he falls off the bed with a loud thud that makes you cackle, unable to stop the laughter as you look at his panicked face staring up at you from the floor, breathy giggles shaking your body as your eyes fill with tears.

“Jo… I wasn’t crying… I’m sorry… How did you fall out of bed?!”

“You tricked me…”

“You tricked yourself, Josuke.”

Well… At least he was out of bed, but the look on his face doesn't exactly make you feel safe as he rises to his feet with a mischievous grin.

“What are you up to?”

“Nothing! Can’t I admire you?”

“Not when you look like you’re going to kill me…” His hand flies to his chest in mock hurt as he leans down and kisses your head with a laugh.

“Go shower so we can go meet up with Okuyasu.”

“This is still kidnapping, I wasn’t even invited…” 

He holds his hand out to help you out of bed like it’s a carriage and he’s your servant, bowing slightly when you take it and slip out of the warm covers to step past him.

“We’re a package deal Y/N, they know this by now!”

He does have a good point, you usually are with him all of the time even if you aren’t invited, it’s a good thing his friends like you so much… Maybe even more than they like Josuke. 

The second you step into the shower and turn your music on you can hear him singing. Loudly.

Terribly...

To Shania Twain.

“Babe! Can I open the door? I want to listen too!”

He doesn’t even let you answer as the door clicks open with a loud gremlin like giggle as he returns back to do his hair, continuing to sing at the top of his lungs. 

You’re glad his mom isn’t home this morning with how… Extravagant, it is.

You can already tell he’s dancing in the room even though you can’t see him, cool water instantly making you feel better from the hot early morning sunlight.

“And all that extra hold gel in your hair outta lock it! Wait…”

You laugh immediately as he pauses, hand hesitating before he touches the gel on his dresser as he realises the words he’s singing.

“‘Cause heaven forbid it should fall out of place.”

You finish the rest before you grab your towel and wrap it around yourself as you close the door slightly, placing the cd player by the opening for him as you get dry and dressed, it's almost concerning how quiet Josuke suddenly is.

You step into the room while you keep humming lightly before freezing, eyebrows furrowing as you stare down at your boyfriend.

“Jo… Are you okay?”

It’s almost a laugh as he lays on his back on the carpet, staring up at the ceiling with wide horrified eyes as they meet yours with a scared whisper, his long hair fanning around him on the plush rug.

“...You’re impressed by me right?”

“Of course I am…?”

“More than Brad Pitt?”

You choke on your laugh as you drop to your knees beside him, fingers playing with his still un-styled hair as stares up at you with sad eyes.

“More than Brad Pitt. He doesn’t impress me much...”

“Ok… Ok. Cool, so I still have a chance right? Even if I don't have a car? Or that I'm not a rocket scientist?”

“Josuke, we’re dating…”

“Oh...”

You can’t help the small giggle as you nudge him to get up while you turn the chair for him to sit in, eyes soft as he leans to kiss your cheek with a blush when he gets up with an audible groan.

“Did you really forget you’re my boyfriend?”

“I guess that I got caught up about Brad Pitt… Can you maybe do my hair? You know... Make me feel better... About Brad...”

“...Are you sure?”

You choose to ignore how hung up he is over Brad Pitt as if he isn't in his mid 30's...

His fingers push the tub of gel into your hand with a grin, nodding when you hesitate before you pick it up and he settles back into the chair with a giddy look on his face.

He doesn’t realise how close you have to be to do his hair, immediately looking away when you lean towards him slightly, fingers curling into his hair as you section it before kissing his forehead.

“What was that for?”

“You just look so cute, it’s that or I bite you…”

His cheeks flame as he questions you with a little ‘Oh’ on his lips before looking away again when your fingers claw lightly at his scalp, making sure it's all in place before you even look at the hair spray.

You have a soft pout on your face when he glances back up at you, your eyes staring at his hair like you’ve destroyed it beyond repair.

“How bad is it, doc?”

“I don’t think it’s that bad it’s just not… Good?”

Your fingers catch his jaw before he can turn to the mirror, a small terrified look on your face as you kiss his cheek again.

“Don’t hate me… I tried.”

When you let go he can’t help the giggling that falls from him, staring at his hair in his reflection with a grin on his face as he looks back at you with adoration.

“It's still better than Brad Pitt... It's not like he's Elvis or something.”

Kira - 

Your fingers are gentle while you run them through Kira’s hair, admiring him as he sleeps peacefully by your side, sunlight shining through the fabric of the curtains. 

You’re glad he gets to go into work later than he usually does today, a smile pulling at your face as you snuggle further into him with a content hum.

His strong arm curled around your waist comfortably as you press your face back into his throat, fighting the urge to bite him because of how cute he looks sleeping. Almost fight back the urge. 

The second your teeth graze his skin faintly, he laughs making you jump in shock, eyes wide as you pull away as his eyes flutter open with a lazy smile on his lips.

“Relax, darling. You didn’t wake me, I was just enjoying the moment. Before you bit me.”

“Sorry… You just looked so cute.”

An amused hum in his throat as he pulls you closer with a light sigh, head resting on top of yours as you relax fully into him.

“Bathe with me this morning?”

“That means getting up Yoshi…”

He coos playfully in your ear when you pout against his neck, soft fingers running against your spine as he traces shapes against your skin.

“I know, darling. But I have to head to work in a few hours.”

“Okay… I’ll go run the bath, would you like some tea?”

You feel him tense his muscles slightly in a stretch as he moves away from you to lean and kiss your temple, a hum in his throat when he fully pulls away.

“I’ll make it, use some of those bath salts you like, hmm?”

You don’t often get him as loving as you do in the mornings, usually not a fan of so much affection, but waking up in your arms every morning makes him enjoy it just a little more each time.

The water is warm under your fingers as you check the temperature when he comes in behind you, leaning to kiss your cheek before placing your tea on the side of the bath.

“Sleep well?”

Your hum is soft when he wraps his arm back around your waist, relaxing against you as the bath fills, his head resting on your shoulder with a tired smile.

He never thought himself to be someone who could ever fall in love, he never cared to try. Nor to want to have a partner, but you slid into his life chaotically. Unpredictable. 

And he wouldn’t change that for the world.

“I did thank you, my love. Did you?”

“I always do by your side, Y/N.”

His fingers are gentle against your skin as he helps you into the bath, a relaxed sigh in your ear when he settles behind you, it’s always slightly cramped but not uncomfortably. Just close. 

You know he struggles with affection after so long believing it isn’t something he ever wanted or needed, but you can see how much he’s trying when he holds you against him as he runs his fingers against your stomach.

“There’s a cute little restaurant that just opened nearby, can we go when you’re done with work?”

“Of course, darling.”

You can hear the tiredness in his voice as he rests his head against your shoulder with a light hum, relaxing against you as you lean into him. It’s disgustingly domestic when he’s like this, having him so content compared to the composed businessman everyone else gets to see.

Most of the time...

The sound of his phone ringing snaps you both out of your relaxation violently, a sigh on his lips as he reaches to grab it with an apologetic glance at you when he sees the caller ID.

“Yoshikage speaking… Yes… No, I’m supposed to be… Right. Understaffed… Of course, I’ll be there soon.... Goodbye.”

The second the call ends he huffs, letting his head fall back to your shoulder with a muffled apology into your skin as your fingers curl into his hair and massage his scalp lightly.

“It’s okay, my love… It isn’t your fault. Drink your tea, I'll make you breakfast okay?”

“Thank you… I love you.”

His fingers trace lightly against your leg as you stand and step out of the bath, leaning to kiss him quickly before grabbing your towel and heading back to your room to get dressed.

Humming a song softly as you slip into your dressing gown and head downstairs to make him something to eat before he leaves, settling for some pancakes and eggs.

You don’t even notice him come into the kitchen, soft steps muffled on the cold tile as he accidentally sneaks up on you, a tiny smirk on his lips as he slips his arms around you quickly once you move away from the stove so you don't hurt yourself.

“Surprise.”

“Kira! How are you so quiet?!”

A gentle rare laugh on his lips as you jump hard in his arms, his head resting back against you as he looks down at the hob in front of you.

“Sorry, darling… I couldn’t help myself.”

“I’ll forgive you… If you let me tie your tie for you.”

“I was going to let you anyway.”

His fingers squeeze your waist slightly before he pulls away to let you turn, a sweet grin on your lips that makes his breathing hitch in his throat. 

The tie is soft in your hands as you take it from him, slipping it around his shoulders as you lean up to kiss him lightly and making him sigh as he pulls you closer.

His eyes are tender when you pull away with a kind smile, fingers straightening the fabric before you tie it for him carefully, tightening it as you fix the collar over it. 

“Thank you, darling.”

You hum lightly as you lean up and press your lips to his cheek before blushing and rubbing off the lipstick mark you leave behind with a pout.

“Always, my love.”

Fugo - 

“Did you know that sea pickles can grow up to 60 feet long?” 

Fugo’s voice is laced with sleep as he reads next to you, your head resting on his chest as you listen to his relaxed heartbeat and soft breathing. 

He sounds excited even though he’s barely awake, reading the new book you just bought him for his birthday, it isn’t even about sea life, just animal biology in general. You sound exhausted when you whisper back a horrified question, not bothering to move from your spot half on top of him.

“Fugo… My love. What the fuck is a sea pickle?”

“I actually have no idea…”

You hear the page turn as he reads quickly, trying to find the answer to your question as you hum and curl your fingers more into his shirt as you close your eyes again.

The vibrations of his voice tickling your skin as he starts reading aloud the part about pickles, sounding both confused and interested all at once.

“Wait… So they aren’t even pickles?”

“They aren’t even pickles…”

Your disappointment is immediate as you huff out a faint grumble about pickles and hide your face into his shirt.

“Why are they even called pickles then, no pickle I've ever seen is 60 feet long…”

You can hear the grin on his face without even looking up, his fingers running through your hair as if trying to console you. About pickles.

“Maybe you’re looking in the wrong places.”

“Fugo, have you seen a 60 foot long pickle?”

“Who hasn’t.”

You can’t help the soft laugh against him as he turns the page, a little amused exhale from him as you groan against his chest.

“Are they at least green?”

“Do you want me to lie to you?”

“No…”

It’s barely a word as you groan dramatically into him before moving your head to look up at him, he looks so relaxed as he lays on your bed, book still in his hand as his tired eyes meet yours.

“They aren’t green, and it’s an animal. Well, animals.”

“What?”

“Animals, look…”

He angles the book so you can see what it looks like, a breathy chuckle falling from him when your face flickers into disgust, staring down at the slimy tube full of microscopic animals.

“That is not a pickle?”

“Are you asking me if it isn’t a pickle?”

Your playful glare gets another tired laugh out of him as he pulls you back down to lay next to him, reading out loud again when you settle back into him.

“Stupid sea pickles.”

“You don’t want me to talk about sea cucumbers then?”

You blink in surprise when he wiggles out from next to you and stands, placing the book onto the bed with a faint smile on his lips. He looks so sweet like this, no stress or responsibility, just getting to enjoy a lazy morning together.

“I’m going to shower, let’s go out today? The weather is nice…”

There’s a soft pink blush on his cheeks when he asks you, like he’s flustered about the thought of going on a cute date with you.

He is, you already know he is.

“Can we go to the bakery? I’ll get you some cake!”

“That’s a bribe, and it’s against the law… I might have to turn you over to the authorities for that.”

“What if I offer you a kiss?  To overlook my crimes…”

He leans over the bed with a playful grin, lips barely brushing yours with his hand cupping your jaw to keep you from moving as he watches you.

“You’re going to jail for attempting to bribe me again.”

“That’s not how…”

He closes the distance before you can finish, a soft squeak leaving you when your lips meet, it’s sweet as he traces his thumb against your cheek before pulling away, blushing a deep red as he looks away. 

“You’re so cute, Fugo.”

“I’m going to shower… Then I’ll take you to the bakery.”

You grin at his retreating figure as he slips into the bathroom with a small flustered laugh, closing the door behind him before you flop down on the bed, your smile not leaving as you lay there in a daze.

He’s so sweet to you, especially when no one else is around, his warm playfulness leaving you giddy every time.

You turn to the window as soon as you hear the water shut off, a tiny smile pulling at your lips at the excitement of him coming back. God you’re so in love it almost hurts…

“You just waited here?”

He seems a little shocked to see you sitting staring out over the city, suddenly self conscious even though you aren’t looking at him, fingers securing the towel around his waist in a light panic.

“I can leave if you want me to, I won’t peek. I promise.”

“I know you won’t… You can stay...”

His voice is still a little nervous even though he trusts you, it isn’t the first time he’s changed in front of you but it still makes him embarrassed each time. You never look, but his cheeks flame nonetheless.

“Can I tie your tie for you?”

“Do you even know how?”

He regrets not changing the wording immediately when he can practically feel your pout before you even say anything, the teasing words already on your lips before he cuts you off.

“I didn’t mean it like that… You aren’t stupid, I just meant…”

“I wasn’t going to say I was… Oh my god. Do you think I’m stupid, Fugo?”

“I just…”

You hear the deep breath as he stops getting ready, annoyance curling into him before he relaxes again, he knows you’re just teasing him.

A careful grounding breath out before he speaks again.

“I just meant, do you know how to? If not I can teach you. If you’d like…”

“Sorry Fugo, you’re too cute not to tease. Will you teach me?”

He doesn’t tell you to turn around like usual, just steps in front of you with a soft blush on his face as he hands you his tie, nervously swallowing when you stand and step towards him.

“Tell me?”

You slip the fabric around the back of his neck as he refuses to meet your eyes, blush deepening when your fingers brush against his collarbone.

“Okay… This bit here, pull it over the top and then back underneath.”

“Like this?”

“Y/N. Stop it…”

You drop the soft whisper as you laugh at his embarrassment, watching him take a deep breath to try to calm his rapid heartbeat.

“Back over the top. Yeah, just like that… Don’t say it. I know, I heard it…”

“What next, Fugo?”

It’s a gentle question as you try not to laugh when he stares down at your hands before glancing up into your eyes and looking away immediately in surprise, not expecting you to already be watching him.

“Take this bit and pull it through here, and then back down through this part…. Perfect!”

You lean forward to kiss his burning cheek while he looks out of the window and refuses to meet your loving gaze, pulling the tie up to rest more against his skin before leaning back to inspect it.

“That wasn’t too hard… I forgot it all though.”

“That’s okay… I’ll teach you again tomorrow.”

Bruno - 

He always wakes before you, tender fingers curling against the material of your shirt as he snuggles closer to you in the early morning sun, he doesn’t mind as much anymore that his body wakes him so early in the day, getting to rest by your side until you wake with him.

Your breathing is soft and rhythmic against his throat as you sleep peacefully, a faint huff on his lips when he realises he has another mission today and can’t even stay by your side. 

Careful hands resting against your back as he holds you, thumbs rubbing lightly into your warm skin under the sunlight.

“I love you, I know I tell you everyday but I hope you never forget it…”

It’s barely audible in your ear as he kisses your temple, soft adoration whispered into your skin as if your soul will remember every word he speaks to you in the morning before you wake.

“Do you always tell me you love me when I'm sleeping?”

“I do… Did I wake you?”

His voice is apologetic without even needing to pull back and look at him, brows furrowing as he leans into you with a faint hum in his throat when your fingers curl into his hair.

“You didn’t, I promise.”

“Would you tell me if I did?”

Your laugh into his skin tells him the answer before you ever open your mouth, but you can feel his smile against your forehead as he presses another soft kiss to your temple.

His hands keep you close to him for a few more seconds as he leans back and looks down at you with a lazy grin, eyes lidded as he wakes up slowly.

“When do you have to leave today?”

“10AM… But you know how long it takes Mista to get ready, I can stay for a little longer with you… If you’ll have me?”

“If I ever say no to that. It isn’t me.” 

His laugh is tired and low as he cups your jaw, lips pressing softly against your forehead before he sighs and moves to slip out of the bed, earning a complaint from you as you grab at his side with a huff.

A loving smile on his face as he leans to kiss you properly this time, lips soft against yours as you hum into him before he pulls away with a light brush of his thumb against you.

“Stay here amore, I'll make us something to eat.”

“Bruno. My love… Let me help?”

How could he ever say no with how sweet you’re looking up at him, his hand slipping into yours as he helps you up, eyes adoring as you slip your arms around his waist and hold him close to you.

“You’re so beautiful… Thank you.”

“Why are you thanking me, love?”

Your eyes meet his with a faint furrow of your brows, question on your lips as he glances away in embarrassment, hoping that you would just overlook his accidental breathy thanks.

“I… I just meant that I’m thankful that I have you… Truly, amore.”

“You’re so cute when you get shy Bruno… I love you. I’m grateful I have you too…”

The light pink deepens faintly, evident in the golden light from the window as you coo and drag him down to kiss him with a small giggle when he groans against you before you pull him towards the door.

He looks a mess when you both slip into the hallway, oversized pyjamas making him look a lot smaller than he is, eyes tired and hair mussed as he follows beside you with a playful grin on his lips.

He rarely gets to be like this, always so composed and calm as he keeps his team safe in missions. He looks sweet and relaxed.

Perfect.

“You’re staring at me, amore…”

“Sorry… I just love you so much.” 

He’s taken aback by your reverent confession as you turn fully when you reach the kitchen, your eyes watching him as he steps into your space to tuck your hair behind your ear and kiss your head lightly as he moves to the stove with a tilt of his head.

“I’ll be honest, I didn’t think this far ahead.”

“Oh! How about I finally teach you how to make French toast?”

“I think I'd like that…”

His eyes are intense as he watches your hands like he could embed what you’re doing into his mind so he won’t forget, his hand resting on your waist when your eyes glance back to him before he looks back up with soft furrowing brows when you place the bread into the pan.

“Got it?”

“I um… Could you show me again?”

You laugh softly at his embarrassment before flipping the one in the pan and showing him again with a sweet smile before nudging the bowl to him when he nods.

Hands taking over what you were doing like he’s done it a thousand times before, it’s almost rude the way he seems so good at everything he does… 

Until he drops the bread on the floor, horror on his face as he looks at you ashamed at his mistake, your hand covering your mouth as you hold onto the counter and try to muffle your laughter to not wake anyone up.

“It was a lot slimier than I expected it to be…”

Your laughter becomes silent painful giggles as you press your hand to your stomach, tears falling down your face as you watch him blush and look down at the pile of mush on the floor with a light giggle, soon slipping into full laughter as you try not to look at each other and make it worse.

“What the fuck are you both doing?”

You both jump mid cackling and whip around to see Abbacchio watching with tired eyes, a tiny smile pulling at his lips as he takes in how domestic you look together. 

“I dropped it…”

A roll of his eyes as he turns and leaves the room when Bruno laughs out choked words before snorting and laughing harder when you start giggling again.

“You’re both so weird… Clean it up when you’re done.”

You lean on Bruno’s shoulder as you both calm down, his eyes loving as you plate the slightly burnt food and giggling again when you lean to clean up the mush.

“I’m… Sorry I made a mess.”

“Bruno, I think that’s the hardest you’ve ever laughed… That was cute, don’t apologise.”

His fingers entwine in yours as he grabs the plate and pulls you back to the stairs with a tiny amused huff.

He looks almost pouty as he watches you style your hair after eating, eyes following your every move when you stand to grab your makeup off the dresser and hesitating before you sit back down, gaze catching his in the mirror with a smile.

“What's wrong, love?”

“Will you do my hair for me?” 

He looks so sweet as he stares at you, blushing gently as you reach your hand out for him to come to you with a faint hum.

“Of course I will, sit for me?”

He stands quickly, almost tripping over his long pyjama pants as he hops off the bed and walks to sit in the chair you just stood from, biting your lip lightly to stop the giggle at his stumble.

You don’t get to say anything as he covers your mouth before he sits down, blush deepening as he kisses your temple with a gentle whisper.

“Don’t laugh…”

“Mmfph.”

“Exactly.”

You playfully glare down at him when he sits, biting his palm gently making a dramatic yelp falling from him as he pulls his hand away in mock pain, a look of horror on his face for a second before he settles back with a little laugh when he pulls you into his lap. 

“You’re lucky you’re cute, Bruno.”

“Not as much as you, cara…”

The hum in your throat is almost a sigh as you get comfortable and grab the brush on the dresser with a light kiss to the bridge of his nose as you run it through his messy hair.

“Why pill bugs?”

“Pill bugs?”

He looks confused as you fix his fringe with a light hum, eyes flicking down to his with a sweet smile before looking back up and fixing the rest of his hair.

“Yeah, your clips… Wait, are they not pill bugs?”

“No… They’re just… I don’t know what they are actually.”

“Oh…” 

His fingers rub your waist slightly as you pout and place the brush down, sitting up on your knees as you start braiding his hair as he holds you steady, he doesn’t need to. But he wants the excuse to touch you anyway.

“Thank you for this, tesoro…”

“You don’t have to thank me, I’m happy to do it for you.”

“Will you put in my pill bugs in for me then? Hmm?”

You tilt his head up once you finish his braid so you can kiss him lightly before settling back down with a sweet hum.

“Give… You’re being too nice, you could order me to you know? My capo.”

His eyes roll immediately at your playful tone, taking the clips from him as you hold his head still to make sure you get them perfect, leaning back as you inspect them.

“I won’t demand you to do anything, amore.”

“I know, my love…”

“Although I did like you calling me capo… Say it again for me?”

You glance down from his hair to look in his eyes, a small playful smirk on his lips as he rubs your skin softly.

“You have to go soon, behave… My capo.”

Abbacchio - 

The soft chatter in the restaurant is a welcome noise to fill the silence as you relax by Abbacchio’s side, barely grazing his leg with your own but enough to comfort the both of you as you sit amongst your team.

You feel the tense in his body as he glares down as the cup in his hand, tea cooling slowly in the ceramic, but that isn’t what he’s annoyed about. You assume anyway.

“What’s wrong?” 

Your voice is barely audible over the clamour of your teammates as they make loud jokes over the table, glad that there aren't many people here to be disturbed by them this late in the day.

“Nothing. It’s fine.”

“Are you trying to shatter the cup with telekinesis or?”

His eyes flit to you with the tiniest twitch of the corner of his mouth, an exasperated exhale on his lips as he places the cup back down and turns it to you.

“Your lipstick?”

He doesn’t answer, just glares at the cup harder as if it’ll undo the marks left on the rim, his eyes staying fixed on the side with disdain.

“They all transfer. I’m getting sick of this shit.”

“All of them?”

“Every one I own…”

You hum softly as you inspect the faint lavender left on the cup, a tiny grin pulling at your lips as he huffs at your amusement by it.

“It isn’t funny… It’s like the shittest calling card”

“I think it’s cute, Leone…”

You barely see the small blush on his cheeks as he turns his head, refusing to look at you again as you tease him softly with a sweet smile on your face.

“Let's go get some other ones then, it’s still early enough that the store won’t be closed yet.”

“You want to go shopping for me? Really?”

“I do… If you want to, I know it’s…”

“Shut up. Come on.”

The gentle demand is barely a whisper as he stands, drinking his tea quickly in a few swallows with a huff when the lipstick stains the cup again.

You stand beside him with a stifled laugh at how dramatic he is, a soft smile given to the rest of the team as you slip out of the door, only Bruno noticing as you both leave.

“Are you hungry, Leone?”

He doesn’t answer but you see the roll of his eyes when he slips past you to stand on the side closer to the road as you walk, his hand brushing your back gently for a second before letting it fall again.

“You can just say you’re hungry, Y/N.”

“But I don’t want to eat if you aren’t going to…”

“I can eat.”

He’s never very affectionate when you’re both in public but you can tell how much he cares with the small things he does for you, a tiny quirk of his lips as he watches you spot a particularly fat pigeon with a grin and a glance back at him as you point to it.

He doesn’t look, eyes staring down at you with adoration that he quickly turns into an annoyed sneer when someone gets too close to you.

“Can I do your makeup for you tomorrow then? Since I’m buying you your lipsticks…”

His head snaps back to you from glaring at the man in front, brows furrowing at your teasing words. You don’t even look at him but he can see you trying not to laugh, a playful grin on your lips as you stare forward.

“You aren’t”

“Try and stop me… I gave Bruno your wallet as we left.”

His fingers immediately raise to press against the pocket he always keeps it in, a shocked glare on his face as you meet his eyes with a mischievous cackle.

“You little… You need to stop hanging out with those 3. They’re making you sneaky.”

“I was already sneaky. You just never noticed… “

He barely aware that you’re already standing outside the store with a saccharine smile on your face, your fingers almost reaching out to touch him before dropping again, knowing he doesn’t like being touched in public.

For both of your safety.

He almost looks guilty for a second when your hand falls, covering it quickly when you nudge him slightly to go in the store with you.

“Come on, before they close.”

You don’t mean to get as many as you do, a grin on your face as you place down the bag on your dresser, turning as he sits on the edge of your bed and reaching his hand out for you to come to him.

Fingers brushing yours when you entwine them together, lips gentle against your knuckles as he presses soft kisses to your skin.

“Are you just trying to cover me in your lipstick?”

“Would it be so bad if I was?”

He looks so much more relaxed like this, eyes lidded as his mask slips completely, exhaustion licking at him as he breathes in your perfume.

“Not at all… I’ll miss it when you find one that doesn’t transfer.”

The hum is faint as he smiles against you, letting your hand go so he can shrug off his jacket and get ready to sleep, his gaze tired as he stands and leans down to kiss you.

You know that you’ll smudge his lipstick even more but you can’t seem to care as you pull him closer, a breathy laugh falling from him when he pulls away again.

“Come on. Sleep, I might even let you do my makeup tomorrow.”

The sun flickers across your skin softly, warming the dark covers above you and making you curl closer to Leone, the warmth fully enveloping you in the quiet morning…

Mostly quiet.

You can hear the faint crash as Narancia trips over something downstairs with a loud apology, you try not to laugh but fail as you bury your face into your boyfriend's throat to muffle it.

“You’re lucky I love you. If anyone else woke me up by giggling in my ear…”

Sleep coils into every whispered word as he pulls you closer to his chest, a low laugh vibrating your skin at the little squeak in surprise when he speaks.

“Sorry, Leone… Narancia just fell over and I couldn’t help it.”

“If he broke something I swear… It better not have been my damn teapot.”

“The one I got you?”

A short hum in his throat rather than answering as he breathes out slowly and squeezes your waist before sitting up, fingers still pressed against your skin.

“Get up. Before I regret letting you do this.”

“Wait! Really?”

He slips out of the bed as his hand falls from you, running his fingers through his mussed hair as he grabs the bag from yesterday.

“Test them before we shower. Then I'll let you do it.”

He sits back down on the bed beside you as you get comfortable, taking the bag from his hand with barely contained excitement.

He can already tell he’s going to regret this but he can’t bring himself to care when you look so happy getting settled as you sit right in front of him.  

“Okay… Let me... I have nothing to wipe this off.”

Your fingers are gentle as you hold his jaw, realising when you put the lipstick on that you can’t really test if they smudge if you can’t take it off.

Actually maybe you can…

He barely has the chance to see the playful smirk on your face as you lean in and press your lips to his, making him groan softly into your mouth before you pull away.

“What…”

“Hmm, no good… This one smudges. Let's try this one…”

Your thumb rubs the last bit of purple off of his lips as he stares at you in shock. Eyes wide as you pull the next lipstick out and tilt your head at how freaked out he looks.

“Sorry… I should have asked first, I’ll test them properly.”

“Don’t... Please?”

His cheeks flame softly as you press it to his lips, humming when it isn’t the usual shade he wears as you inspect it with narrowed eyes before leaning in and kissing him again before pulling away with a little huff.

“Not this one either, and it’s not the right colour.”

He looks fucked up.

His eyes wide and dilated even in the sunlight as it caresses his face, a pretty smile on his face, purple still staining his lips as you gently kiss him over and over in order to ‘test’ his new makeup.

He can’t even tell if you’re taking it seriously or not but you look ecstatic, his hand coming up to cup your face as you talk mindlessly about only having a few left.

He leans in his time, lips pressed to yours almost in worship as his fingers curl against your skin, gentle.

Reverent.

So loving that it leaves you breathless when he pulls away again.

“Hmm. This one is good.”

“...Yeah. Good.” 

You can barely choke the words out as he grins down at you, your eyes wide as you watch him, swallowing at how intense he can be even without meaning to be. A whispered question on your lips as you break eye contact before you blush even harder.

“Can I do it again tomorrow?”

“I’d let you do it for the rest of my life.”

Giorno Giovanna

- he's a very calculated eater. everything that he does to pleasure you is all intentional, he knows exactly what he's doing. do not doubt him.

- doesn't mind doing it everytime the both of you get intimate, he'll do whatever to make you feel good.

- uses his mouth 90% of the time and is able to make you come with only his tongue.

- he uses his fingers to circle around your clit when you're really close / or when he wants to make you squirt all over his tongue.

- he takes his time omg he never rushes. he likes kissing your thighs and tummy before going straight into it.

- hooks his arms under your thighs, while his free hands gently rub up and down your stomach.

- likes it when you coat the bottom half of his face with your cum, he'll lick you clean.

- can be very merciless, he'll overstimulate until your legs are shaking just to mess with you.

Bruno Bucciarati

- a gentle yet messy eater. he isn't scared of being sloppy with it either, he'll have half of his face covered with your slick.

- always initiates foreplay to get you all wet and hot for him. making out, caressing and groping your breast, maybe even having you grind against his thigh for a bit.

- likes having your back pressed against his chest, legs spread as he teases you with his fingers first.

- very sweet with his words, he'll look up at you through his lashes and in a deep voice goes "remember to give me a tap if it's too much."

- takes his time, paying close attention to what makes you tense up or gasp as his tongue flicks over your labia as he gives your clit a gentle kiss.

- he does use his fingers to stimulate you more. the more you're being touched, the better right?

- he hums quietly when you run your fingers through his hair to give him a tug, he won't pull away though.

- likes to keep your legs spread wide open for him, wants to see how far you can take it before you squirm and try to sandwich his head with your thighs.

Leone Abbacchio

- messy eater #1

- he wastes no time getting right into it, a firm grip at your thighs as he lets his tongue lap every inch of your pussy.

- his mouth is filthy, as in he dirty talks you throughout most of it. he makes comments about how sensitive you are, how needy your cunt is for him, or how you're already staining the sheets and he hasnt done anything yet.

- spits on it. lmao. he will spread your folds apart and spit on it, he loves mixing his spit with your cum.

- a biter but he's super gentle when he manages to gently nibble your clit and watch your body jerk.

- slaps your pussy, especially when he's already tongue deep and his fingers are already stimulating your clit. might as well give your clit a little slap.

- gropes and massages your breast while he licks you up. gives your nipples a pinch when you're getting too loud but don't stop.

- edges you to no end, he can be ruthless but he'll give in to what you want if you ask nicely.

Guido Mista

- messy eater #2

- he's really handsy, he loves to have his hands run all over your body. giving your thighs a squeeze, spreading your legs further apart, and of course fingering and spreading your pussy lips for him to get in there.

- sometimes talks while he's eating you out and his voice is so muffled because he's deep in there. like nose digging into your clit type of deep.

- you need all the strength in the world to pull this man away from you. he claims your pussy is magnetic and he's drawn in.

- lowkey talks to it like it's sentient. you hear this mf stand at the foot of your bed, tugging at your panties saying how "she's wet and needy for me, huh?" as he runs as thumb through the fabric.

- constantly tells you how good you taste, moaning between each lick and slurp.

- into anal LOL. he will eat your ass all while his fingers are damn near knuckles deep in your cunt as he does a 'come here' motion at the same time. you felt like your body ascended when he did it the first time.

- he tries to get you to squirt every session, he did it once and now he feels obligated to do it again.

Narancia Ghirga

- he's so eager about pleasing you, he can't even stay still.

- he's very noisy too. moans and hums as he tongue fucks you like crazy. not to mention his slurps and licks are loud too, its almost like he does it on purpose.

- would occassionally pull away to look up at you with a hopeful glint in his eyes, constantly asking if he's doing a good job.

- smiles at you while he kisses and licks at your clit, damn near abusing it. he giggles too when your moans get so high pitched.

- tbh, he wouldn't be as good at it than he is now if it weren't for your help. you guided him, shaping his knowledge on how to please your body and from there he just started learning on his own.

- did he struggle to find your clit? yes. but once he found it, he made you sing like a bird all night.

- continues to eat you out even after he's made you cum like three times. he doesn't even mean to overstimulate you, he's just addicted like it's crack.

- loves to spread your folds with his thumb as he lets his tongue trace circles. he wants you to make a mess all over his face.

Pannacotta Fugo

- he's needy and desperate, like a starved man drinking water in a long time.

- similar to abbacchio, he can get a little aggressive and it's because he's so into it. the more you moan and praise him, the needier he gets.

- overthinks a lot, he pays close attention to any sound or movement you make and will repeat it.

- actually thinks hes super hot when you squeeze your thighs against his head. its like his own personal headphones.

- likes licking your folds through the fabric of your underwear, there's something so hot about that thin piece of your panties blocking from him fully being inside.

- grunts and groans into your pussy, just hearing you moaning his name makes him want to moan with you too.

- loves kissing you right after he finished making you cum, just so you can taste yourself on him.

𝐁𝐑𝐔𝐍𝐎 𝐁.

✦ | The capo truly believes that if his stand wasn’t so well behaved, that it would’ve dragged you into the zipper dimension and kept you there so you could shower it with praise forever. He won’t allow that to happen though, so don’t worry. Bruno still finds it adorable when you praise his stand for good work, it almost feels like he’s receiving the praise himself.

───

Tonight was a rare occasion, your beloved Bruno was able to be home for once. The past weeks had been full of countless missions that needed to be taken care of, and only he was trustworthy enough to be in charge of them. As frustrating as it was being away from home, he enjoyed the time he was able to spend with his little group. But, as they say, absence makes the heart grow fonder. He was eager to see you and hold you in his arms again, to give you all the love you had been yearning for during those few weeks. Letters were simply not enough to express it.

As soon as he entered the front door to your home, he was met with a warm embrace; an embrace reminded him of the days when you were both young and newly in love. Childish, passionate, and so utterly infatuated. With a light chuckle, his arms snaked around your waist, whispering, “I’m home, bella.”

It didn’t take him long to acclimate back into the calm atmosphere your home exhibited, he was finally able to delve into the book he had been itching to read. As he did so, you decided to take on the duty of preparing dinner. He, of course, had offered to do it himself, but you insisted he needed to rest and relax. He couldn’t deny his fatigue, but he still felt guilty for having you do all the work yourself.

He wasn’t too far in his book before he heard soft humming coming from the kitchen followed by the occasionally clanging of pans. A soft smile spread across his face; these were the sounds of home he had been missing. He couldn’t help but look up from his book and into the archway that invited guests into your kitchen, catching a glimpse of the little dances or actions you would take to entertain yourself as items cooked on the burners. You were so sweet and he adored that about you, even simple, domestic moments like this one.

Without even realizing it, his stand had somehow been released during his lovesick staring. It had opened a portal to the zipper dimension and entered through the wall into your kitchen, right next to you as you stirred the pot of pasta. Its sudden appearance startled you, but only for a moment as it merely stood there and admired the cooking process. Sticky Fingers could be an odd one, but it was a useful and dependable stand and friend to have.

Soon, it was time to make the sauce for your pasta. After some rummaging through your fridge, there was no garlic to be found. You swore you purchased some at the store earlier that day, but you supposed you simply overlooked it. “Damnit, I forgot to grab garlic at the store.” You sighed.

Next to you, your husband’s stand immediately perked up; almost like this was the moment it had been waiting for. Quickly, it created an opening in the wall with one of its zippers and swiftly entered and closed the zipper. A few minutes went by, and then came back the stand. It seemed it had nothing, like it had just disappeared for no apparent reason, but then you noticed it was holding an item in its hand. Upon closer inspection, it was exactly what you had needed. A clove of garlic.

Your mouth shaped into an o, then slowly formed into a thankful grin. “Oh, thank you, Sticky Fingers.”

Before it returned to its user, you gave the stand a quick peck on the cheek. A simple way of giving it your thanks, “I swear, as kind as Bruno is, he doesn't give you enough praise.”

If stands could blush, Sticky Fingers was doing exactly that.

Having been listening to your conversations from his comfortable seat, Bruno released a quiet sigh, “Please tell me you paid for the clove.”

───

𝐋𝐄𝐎𝐍𝐄 𝐀.

✦ | For a while, he thinks you're genuinely insane. You’re fawning over his stand, an extension of himself that can’t even properly communicate with you or talk to you. It can only rebroadcast the past events that Abbacchio asks it to, yet you still consistently shower it with praise when it replays the information he needs. He would never admit it, but he does find it endearing when you do so.

───

Once again, Abbacchio was drowning his sorrows in liquor. This habit had begun to dissipate when his relationship with you began, but old habits do die hard. He found that it would happen more when you weren’t around; around to see how fucked up of a man he really was. He was never what you thought of him to be, at least, he didn’t see himself that way.

In your eyes, Leone Abbacchio was a stern, but caring man. He hid his true feelings with anger, hoping to avoid attachment and sentiment, but the people around him couldn’t help but get closer to him. Without even trying, he was a magnet to the teens in Bucciarati’s group; them seeing him as a figure to look up to. At times, he would even crack small smiles at them simply acting like normal teens. If brought up, he would only deny he ever did. But, you knew the truth.

Even with your constant worrying and check ups on him, his depression would never disappear. It wasn’t something that could be fixed, it simply was; and he knew that all too well. On nights when he did get rest, it would be interrupted by nightmares. Scenes of his days as a cop, money being shoved into his hand, the gunshots, and the blood of his partner on his hands would play over and over. Sometimes, it felt like Moody Blues was tormenting him in his dreams. He knew that wasn’t true, but that was what he wanted to believe.

That feeling was familiar as he sipped on his booze, sitting in loneliness at your dining table. He would drink and drink, believing it would make the pain go away, but it never did. He recalled a saying he was told as a child, “If you believe hard enough, your wish will come true.” Abbacchio never wished, but if he were ever able to muster one up, it would be to wish that you were home right now. Not to see him in the sad state he was in, but to deliver the affection you decided he was worthy of. Your kisses were like blessings and your words were like sugar, it almost felt he was being healed from just your presence alone. Maybe that was why he would replay your mornings with him, when he was his loneliest.

As he rewinded Moody Blues once again, the sound of keys entering the keyhole could be heard. Soon after, you gently opened the door with hands filled with bags of groceries. Your eyes traveled up to meet his gaze, then turned to catch the bottle in his hands. “I’m home, Leone.”

“Welcome back.” He muttered, his grip tightening on the bottle. A tell tale sign of his nervousness.

As you sat your bags of groceries on the table, you took notice of the double of yourself that stood behind you. The stand quickly turned back into its true form, giving you a welcoming nod. You gave it a peck on the cheek as it made staticky noises spout from its audio player. “Were you using Moody Blues to replay this morning, again?” You questioned as you took away the bottle of liquor.

This time, he didn’t utter a word. He only looked off into the distance, a part of him shameful of his actions. You never liked that he coped this way, but it was about the only way he knew how. But, instead of berating him, you gave him a sweet smile, cupping his cheek with the same gentleness you gave his stand. “You can just say you missed me, y’know?”

He couldn’t take it anymore. He needed you right now.

“We can work more on helping you find a better coping outlet. I won’t have you do it alone, Leone.”

Before you could say anymore, Abbacchio took a loose hold on your wrist, pulling you down closer to his face. He stared into your widened eyes for a moment, then roughly pressed his lips onto yours. His hands soon wove their way into your hair, keeping you steady for an onslaught of kisses; each more passion filled than the last. His light purple lipstick had smeared, part of it now smudged on your face. He didn’t care.

You were in his embrace, you were home. The drunken wish he had made came true.

As he finally pulled away from you, he stared at the purple now present on your lips and the light red hue that rose to your cheeks. It almost made him fall in love with you again, almost. “Leone-”

He had shut you up with another kiss, with a quiet murmur, “I don’t deserve you…”

───

𝐆𝐈𝐎𝐑𝐍𝐎 𝐆.

✦ | Golden Experience shares the same adoration for you as its user does, often it grows flowers or plants for you as a thank you. However, it can be overwhelming at times. Sometimes, Giorno’s heart rate spikes when you do nice things for him, such as when you give him kisses or pick up his favorite snack from the store. Those simple actions mean much more to him than you think and make his heart beat quicken, resulting in a sudden patch of flowers growing beneath him. Trust him, that was all Golden Experiences doing.

───

Being a mafia don was terribly exhausting, each day was filled with more tasks that needed to be completed and assigned. Giorno knew that from the beginning when he first took on the journey to achieve his dream, but there was a piece of the puzzle that he had acquired during that time; you. You were one of the members of Bucciarati’s group, and the first to treat him with an ounce of respect. The bond the two of you formed during your mission to protect Trish became unbreakable. That bond eventually formed into something more than just friendship, you became his first love. Now, the love of his life.

He loved coming home, to see your beautiful face greet him with the same adoration he had for you. Even though he would come home exhausted, more often than not, he would always stay up into the late hours of the night just to spend as much time as possible with you before he had to return to his duties in the morning. Just like today.

The moment he walked in the door, you greeted him with that kind smile of yours. You wrapped your arms around him, squeezing him tightly, trying to pour all your love into a single embrace. “Welcome back home, Gio.”

Giorno soon returned the embrace, his arms snaking around your waist as he rested his head against your shoulder. “Thank you, love.” He murmured.

After a moment of sweet silence, you released yourself from his hold. You could barely contain yourself, judging by the fiddling of your hands. You slowly inched yourself towards the dining table, quickly hiding an item behind your back. “Guess what I got you while I was out today?”

A chuckle left his lips, “That’s quite a hard question to answer.”

“Then I’ll spare you, just this once,” you then pulled out the treat behind your back, excitedly presenting it to your beloved. “Two of your favorites combined, chocolate pudding!”

“Why thank you, dear. I take it that this is from the sweet shop you mentioned.”

You smiled cheerfully towards your beloved, “Of course, Gio! You deserve it for working so hard.”

As soon as you uttered those words, the man felt his heart beat become faster than it had been before. Below him, ferns and weeds began sprouting from your floors along with flowers of various species, primarily ones that spoke “I love you” in the language of flowers. It was like a mini garden had suddenly grown in your own home.

This didn’t go unnoticed by you either, an eyebrow raised in concern. “Um, Giorno, I hate to cut this romantic moment short but there’s a flower patch growing beneath you.” You spoke, pointing to the floors below you.

“I’ll pot them later, love,” he whispered, pulling you ever closer to him. “I want to continue to enjoy this moment with you.”

He was utterly smitten.

───

𝐏𝐀𝐍𝐍𝐀𝐂𝐎𝐓𝐓𝐀 𝐅.

✦ | Fugo is extremely concerned for you, but Purple Haze loves it! Due to the stand's unpredictable nature, and possibility of one of its bulbs breaking, it’s rare that Fugo even lets it out around you. It’s rare that it’s even let out in general, but Fugo takes extra precautions so as to not hurt you. However, on the rare occasion that his stand does make an appearance, you are quick to praise it.

───

Fugo could only stare with concern and distaste as you stood a little too close to his stand, arms crossed as his hands formed into fists of frustration. This was his own way of coping, coping with your optimism and kindness towards him and the stand he had grown to despise. His aversion to his stand in the past could be considered so little compared to the precautions he takes now that you have become his beloved. The others within Bucciarati’s little gang had certainly taken the hint that Purple Haze was an unstable stand, but you just couldn’t stay away from it, now could you?

Battered and bruised from the battle that had occurred just moments ago, you still sought to give your favorite stand its well deserved praise. With both your hands cupped around your mouth, a celebratory shout left you. “Good job, Purple Haze!”

Your excitement caused the stand to look directly at you as it drooled, its eyes mimicking a puppy asking for treats. Then suddenly, it began to clean the drool off itself erratically, almost as if it were trying to look presentable for you. It was adorable.

A grimace spread across Fugo’s face, disgusted by his stands attempt at cleaning itself. It was utterly fruitless and only made him more embarrassed by the situation. Seeing this, he gently took hold of your wrist and pulled you closer to him, farther outside his stands 5 meter range. “[Name], please refrain from getting too close to it,” he sighed.

In response, you wrapped an arm around him as you pointed to his stand. “But, it’s so cute! Just look at it.”

Fugo, however, did not share the same sentiments. “I’m being serious, please avoid getting close to Purple Haze. It’s unstable.”

“It reminds me of you, y’know.”

He huffed, “Of course it would, it’s an extension of me.” Only Fugo could see it that way, but there was much more to Purple Haze than meets the eye. It’s nature was that of its users, yes, but its actions reminded you of how much your Fugo meant to you. His supposed “annoyance” towards your behavior to his stand was never what it appeared to be; his feelings and actions were only a means to protect you. His anger was a mask for the softness of his heart, a side only you were permitted to see.

It hurt your heart to know he found it hard to see himself the way you do, but you could try to. “Sure, but its habits reflect the true nature of your soul. You act all tough, but you can be a really sweet person. I love that about you.”

For a moment, you could feel Fugo freeze in your arms. You didn’t even have to look up to know he was fighting off the blush rising to his cheeks.

───

𝐆𝐔𝐈𝐃𝐎 𝐌.

✦ | Mista adores you, and so do his Sex Pistols. The countless times the bullets have fought over your attention is enough to prove that fact. You can never truly say who is your favorite because they can and will fight over it, for several hours. Or maybe even days.

───

All you and your boyfriend wanted was some rest, any number of hours would do at this point.

As you laid against Mista’s chest, little voices kept bringing you back to consciousness. Bags were beginning to form under both yours and his eyes. Combined with the excessive work you had both received during the week from Giorno, rest was the best possible date the two of you could have. Unfortunately, the Sex Pistols just weren’t ready to settle down.

Their chittering was adorable, that you could not deny. It was difficult to tell them no, even when they were asking for an item as simple as a piece of your food. However, when their cute conversations developed into arguments, their lovable nature turned into not so lovable behavior. Their attitudes would become worse towards their user, but never towards you. After all, they love you just as much as Mista himself does. Nevertheless, it still got on both yours and Mista’s nerves if it went on for too long.

Finally, Mista had had enough. After a long, drawn out groan, he released an annoyed shout, “Guys, can you stop with the racket? You’ve been at this for 3 days now!”

This got his stand’s attention, and they quickly fired back:

“But, Mista!”

“[Name] has yet to pick one of us!”

A sigh left your lips, a pout of frustration soon following after. “You lot should know I don’t like to pick favorites.”

Your little companions however, did not agree with your words. Like clockwork, you could see the wheels turning in their brains to come to the conclusion that you absolutely had to choose. They then released a shout in unison, “There can only be one!”

Once again, you released a sigh before sitting up straight and wiping your tired eyes. “If I pick, will you please let us rest?”

A nod was given by each bullet.

Mista observed as you sat, thinking carefully upon your answer. Then suddenly, you spoke. “Number Five.”

Immediately, a joyous shout came from the little stand which was then followed by disappointed groans from the others. Before you knew it, Number Five was even doing happy laps along the hallway as the others chased it. The sight could only make you laugh and at least they brought their little fight into the hallway. You quickly rose from the bed and shut the door before they could come back in.

As you laid back down, an arm wrapped around you to bring you back into your boyfriend's arms. You then gave him a poke on the cheek. “Don’t worry, you’re still my favorite.”, you whispered.

A haughty scoff left his lips, a smirk following in suit. “Obviously.”

Truthfully, all of them were your favorites.

───

𝐍𝐀𝐑𝐀𝐍𝐂𝐈𝐀 𝐆.

✦ | Sadly, you can’t exactly love on Aerosmith like some of the other stands in the Bucci Gang. It’s quite literally a mini airplane. Instead, you can give your boyfriend double the love to make up for it.

───

“Just one, please?” He begged.

“Nara, I am not giving Aerosmith a kiss.”

Narancia’s begging had been going on for several hours now, and he was not going to let up any time soon. Your relationship with him had always been sweet and loving, it was hard to ever find him without you by his side. Abbacchio and a few others liked to joke that Narancia was like a koala with him always clinging to your side, but you never minded it. You had always found it endearing that he loved you so deeply. But, there were a few times that his acts of affection were a little too… interesting for you.

Your boyfriend’s arms then wrapped around your waist, desperate for a positive answer. “But everyone else’s stands get loved on like crazy, and it’s starting to get jealous!”, he whined as he slid down to the ground.

This was ridiculous, yet adorable all the same. You playfully ruffled his hair, using your other arm to wrap around him and keep him off the floor. “I think you’re speaking for yourself, hon.”, you giggled.

Narancia looked up from your stomach with the saddest, most heart-wrenching puppy dog eyes you had ever seen. No puppy you had ever met had managed to sway your heart like the boy who clung to you did nor made you fold so quickly. He had to have been cursed by some witch.

“…fine, but just one.”

He immediately perked up, eyes filled with pure joy as he nearly jumped from how pumped he was. “Yes!”

Aerosmith soon appeared next to you, awaiting its affection. You didn’t waste any time and gave it a quick peck on its nose before quickly standing back. For a moment, you swear the plane's frown that was usually present on its face turned into a grin as it spun around in the air to make a heart shape with its smoke. For a stand that was meant to scare, that was one of the most adorable things you had ever seen.

Arms then wrapped around you from behind, nearly making you fall as Narancia glomped you. “It loved it!”

You couldn’t help but smile, “Now, it’s your turn!”

Before Narancia could react, you turned around and pressed a kiss on his lips. Then another, and another. As you began pecking his cheeks, he broke out into a fit of giggles as he inched you even closer to him. If he were to ever pass, it would certainly be from your affection.

───

𝐓𝐑𝐈𝐒𝐇 𝐔.

✦ | Trish finds it a bit odd at first that you give special attention to her stand, but then she eventually comes to like it. Sometimes she’ll catch you putting make up on Spice Girl, even asking the stand if it likes it or not. Trish thinks it’s cute.

───

Spice Girl was a diva, that much you knew. Much like her user, she was particular about her fashion and her tastes in general. Where others would see only part of the picture, your girls saw the whole masterpiece. It was something you admired about them, their complexities are what made them unique and you loved them for it. Even when they could be difficult at times.

As you sat with your girlfriends stand at her vanity, you carefully dabbed the larger brush into the pink powder. Then, with a gentle hand you patted the brush on the stand's face. It remained quiet and still as you did so, trying not to ruin your hard work. You then repeated the same actions with a darker pink blush, being just as careful.

After you finished, you sat back and admired your work. It was a hard choice, both blushes looked beautiful against its pale pink skin. So, you decided to get up and spin the stand’s chair around so it could look in the mirror. “So, a lighter pink or darker pink for the blush?”

Before the stand could reply, a voice came from behind you. “I think a darker pink, it looks nice against her skin.”

There stood your Trish, who had recently just woken up judging by her sleepy eyes. Her pink hair was still messy from her beauty sleep, but she looked adorable nonetheless. A smile creeped up on your face as she approached your side, and you were quick to give her a kiss on the cheek. “Goodmorning, sweets.”, you whispered.

“Goodmorning to you, too.” She murmured, then she took more notice of what exactly you were doing. You were doing make up on her stand, a past time only you and her participated in. Even with Trish’s particularities when it came to her routine, she eventually let you do it for her at times. Over time, you had memorized her routine and she found it cute that you did so.

Pulling up a chair, Trish sat next you as you continued to do her stands makeup, occasionally giving pointers to you. If this was what she woke up to every morning, she wouldn’t mind waking up early.