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brunos-beloved · 2 years
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I might actually start writing again >:)
🌟 YO YO YO JOJO BLOG JOJO BLOG 🌟
~(updated) rules~
-(NEW) characters from parts 1-6 (no spoilers for part 7 please I’m reading it!)
-scenarios
-headcanons
-matchups
-prompt lists (gotta find one?)
note: I usually write she/her or gn readers UNLESS requested otherwise, feel free to :)))
only sfw but maybe suggested nsfw???
nothing I’m uncomfortable with (ex: teacher/student)
REQUEST AWAY BABY ฅ^•ﻌ•^ฅ
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brunos-beloved · 2 years
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sleepless : gyro zeppeli x reader
summary : reader is haunted by nightmares of their past
word count : 620
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—-✧—- (announcement(?) at bottom)
You bursted from your slumber, balls rolling down in a cold sweat as you gasped for air in the suddenly cramped comfort of your sleeping bag. You watched the fire crackle before you, eyes darting to your sides. You were still here, still here with Johnny and Gyro, so why? Why did you feel like you were right there again? Right in the eye of the storm, the traumatizing chain of events from so long ago. It felt so close, so real. You swore you had heard a gunshot. Clear as day sounding through the tall trees around you, the fact you even recall an echo of startled birds only worrying you closer to the edge of insanity. A gulp entered your throat and a hand met the pistol under your pillow. As a bullet fell from your thumb into the chamber, and the barrel turned with a securing metallic sound, the man a bit away from you snapped up to life.
“Y/n? What in the hell are you doin’?” You spun around, legs flinging out of your bag for mobility, a familiar Italian face greeting yours. You let out a shaky breath, eyes fluttering in relief, the strap of your practically soaken through tank top sliding down your shoulder.
“I...I thought I heard something.” Gyro quirked a blonde brown, emerald eyes confused. After a sigh, he flashed his grills in a confident smirk he hoped would sooth you.
“You sure? I’ve been awake in this thing for a while and I heard nothin’.”
Unfortunately you took his smirk the wrong way, was he scrutinizing you? You hated feeling vulnerable, it was something you weren’t quite used to having to do. So, something as small as a smirk in this frantic state would put you off. “You think I’m kidding asshole!?” You whisper-snapped, the dirty blonde seemed surprised. You were usually as calm as ever, Gyro had never seen you in a condition like this. After a length of silence, your anger simmered and guilt overtook, along with a realization; you’d had this foolish dream before. Of a gunshot. And here you were preaching it had been real. It had, years ago, but that sound was only something of your imagination. “S-shit, Gyro...” You turned away, peering into the warm flames, “I’m, I’m sorry.”
The cowboy’s eyes softened, his initial panic fading, and the man wondered just what was going on in your troubled mind. Though his initial worry returned, noticing your trembling arms and hands clutching at the blanket beneath you, lip stuck between your teeth. Gyro stood up from his bag, dragging it behind him, and stopping it closer next to yours. “It’s alright,” He sat himself down on top of the sleeping bag, a careful hand latching onto your shaky arm to comfort you. Jade eyes met your own suddenly timid ones, “It’s alright.” 
That was all it took to break your will. Eyebrows furrowed and eyes blown wide started to pour, one drop after the other. Your eyes darted to the fabric over the hard ground between you, trying to hide what embarrassment had already been seen, your lips between harsh teeth once again. With Gyro’s soft shushes, a gentle rub across both of your shoulders, and you couldn’t help but let a whine slip. At that you lost it nearly entirely, burying your face in the space between his neck and long hair, feeling like a slowly bursting balloon trying to hold in the wails that wished to escape. You hadn’t been consoled like this in a long time. Your hands snuck under his arms and into his back, and you were latched to him in seconds, tears soaking his nape for what seemed like hours but was merely minutes.
—-✧—-
This is short and also a really old draft but take it because I have posted anything in a while… part 2 possibly if anyone wants it. I have more free time again and haven’t gotten to do much writing so maybe I’ll make a return on here (also I’ve got a couple stone ocean chapters left and then I’m gonna start sbr I’m pumped)
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brunos-beloved · 3 years
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Girl i--
I only just found this blog and I'm already binging your work
I might have to request in the future 👀
awe thank you! i plan on still being active i just dont know how often, but dont feel discouraged from requesting!
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brunos-beloved · 3 years
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I LOVE YOUR WRITING OMG omg <3
Thank you so much ☺️
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brunos-beloved · 3 years
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Thank you for doing my match up!💕 I loved it!🥺💞
Awe I’m glad :)!
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brunos-beloved · 3 years
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Hi! Is It ok if i request a match up for the bucci gang?👉🏻👈🏻 I'm genderfluid and i use they/them pronouns, i'm Pan.
I'm 5'7'', i have short Brown hair and Brown eyes. I'm infp-t and i have ADHD, i'm pretty quiet at first but when you get to know me i'm very chaotic. I like anime, videogames, drawing and writing fanfics. ( I have a wattpad account lol) i'm also really clingy and i tend to hug(or showing them both verbal and phisical affection) my friends out of nowhere. I also have a low self-esteem gshsgs. I also forgot to mention i'm Italian as well😳
Feel free to ignore if you don't feel like writing it!! Take your time!💕
I’m part Italian! hehe :) I’m learning the language very very slowly lol
—✧—
I match you with...
...Guido Mista!
Mista is an extrovert that would help you get out of your introverted shell! Once the two of you grow closer, he really enjoys your chaotic side, for he can be quite the chaotic guy himself. Mista seems like someone who likes to have fun and stay on his toes, you’re a good match for him that way. Though you can be quiet around others or at least those you’re new to, Mista is kind and aware, and would keep you close and included, along with push you out of your comfort zone when it comes to people.
Please touch him, please. This man will most definitely be stitched to your side, and once he’s aware of the comfort you find in physical contact he’s got a hand on your back or an arm slung over your shoulders in nearly every situation possible. He welcomes your hugs with eagerness! Though it’s seldom or sudden the brunette could not be happier receiving one from you. Definitely a bear hug type of guy, he won’t want to leg you go. However Mista can usually read a room, being gentle and comforting in his embraces when it’s needed.
If Mista ever catches you in a state of self-doubt, after initial surprise and baffle he’s complimenting you for the next week daily (probably more like next month honestly). He doesn’t mean to come of as annoying, he just genuinely can’t understand what you’re missing. This romantic will see you as the most perfect person in his life, yet you’re so humble! Mista must let you know exactly how amazing you are no matter how obnoxious he might seem, and he will. Though he can be loud, and this flusters you, he does do wonders for your confidence.
—✧—
Thanks for requesting!!! Hope you enjoy :) I’m gonna make matchups a lil shorter so I can do more. Do you like tis format? Thought I'd try something different.
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brunos-beloved · 3 years
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Do you think he can order Okuyasu's headcanons, falling in love with the nerd girl from his class? 😳
aaaah so cuteeeee
nerd in class headcanons : okuyasu nijimura x reader
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—✧—
Usually, Okuyasu would never in a million years go out of his way to put extra effort into academics, however.
If he can’t find any excuses to spend time with you, he most definitely begs for your help, though you do notice about 8 of 10 times you study together Okuyasu somehow always manages to steer the conversation from quadratics to what you ate for breakfast or what you did that day. Not that you minded, you were shy to admit it but your heart fluttered when he did things like that. His interest in your wellbeing made you hope that maybe...no Okuyasu was too dense for something like that, right?
You two had first spoke when you’d helped him in class, you’d noticed after days with him sitting in front of you that he didn’t usually try too hard, but when he did he tended to struggle quite obviously. So, you lended him a hand, and suddenly you lended a boy named Josuke a hand, then even Koichi.
All three began visiting you at lunches for answers or assistance, though you put on a sigh, you enjoyed their company. Your grades may have been great but all that time invested in studying meant you were alone the majority of the time.
Soon Okuyasu found himself wanting to talk about topics other than academics a lot more often, with the help of Josuke’s and Koichi’s advice he even took up your afternoons now, whether you walked for icecream or went to the library (which never lasted too long with his boisterous voice).
However, after a bit of odd behaviour you concluded that Okuyasu was definitely off. He’d been plenty quieter around you lately, you’d wondered if you’d made a mistake somewhere, but you couldn’t recall. Finally, after a week you confronted him.
“Oku? What’s wrong with you lately?” The flushed tan cheeks startled you, it was cute, but why was he embarrassed? “Did I mess up? Did I teach something wrong or are you having trouble again? I can help if need be.” The boys nose only turned brighter, onyx gaze whipping around in search of the friends who’d betrayed him without his knowledge at the lockers. Okuyasu hadn’t really paid attention to it until Josuke teased him about you, but he’d realized just how much he liked your voice. It was such a soft and graceful contrast to his own, maybe that was why he loved your “teaching” so much, even though he hardly payed attention to their true topics. The thought had snapped something within him, and now he noticed every little thing about you, the bliss of ignorance no more.
“No! Oi, well-” he watched your brows furrow with worry. He finally huffed and met your eyes, a strangely cute expression on his face, his lip slightly jutted. The silence ensued, you kept staring up at the boy, cheeks still rosy, but awaited his response. “It’s just...”
“OKUYASU! HURRY UP BEFORE MY MA’ KILLS ME!” A pushy Josuke emerged, dramatic brows annoyed, only to show his back and walk away and back toward his home. A distressed sound from Okuyasu, your face swing back to his with a quiet chuckle, sad you may not hear what he had to say. But then, he grabbed your hands, surprisingly careful, and your eyes widened.
“Go out with me y/n!” Okuyasu was equally stiff. Oh. Oh. You nearly gasped, your own cheeks aflame. After the initial shock though, you gave him a curt nod, and a gentle smile. Dark eyes merely blinked, his mouth falling agape. Your arms weaves under his, and you brought the blunt boy into your embrace.
—✧—
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brunos-beloved · 3 years
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Hello I'm new at writing for jjba and I was wondering if you'd give me a shout-out my blogs called @yukako-kin1
sure, give them a look!
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brunos-beloved · 3 years
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hello! may I request a prosciutto scenario where he teaches reader how to hold and shoot a gun? like coming up from behind to put his hand on theirs 😳 or if its more comfortable a shy reader being bold enough to confess to him?
humminahumminawooga um yes
shooting lessons : prosciutto x reader
summary: prosciutto learns you can’t shoot a gun, obviously he takes up the job of teaching you.
word count: 1.3k
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—-✧—-
Down-turned, azure eyes made you nervous. Prosciutto was already intimidating, but under these circumstances, you felt like you might just melt under his gaze alone. You had not screwed up, per se, however even the slightest misstep felt like an upcoming disaster working under the blonde’s watch. You’d seen how he treated Pesci, his usual partner, if you were oddly favored like he was, maybe you’d be spared, if not who knows what might happen. In your last mission, you’d nearly botched it, the lack of ability with a weapon you weren’t used to the cause. Though it turned out fine, you knew a close-call wasn’t preferred over an efficient one, the witness of your struggle Prosciutto himself. His seriousness made you tense, especially when you’d be at the brunt of it.
“You don’t even know how to use a gun, do you?” The man approached you after the mission, and surprisingly not to (quite) punish or scold you. With a guilty and embarrassed gulp, you met his eyes, bold lower lashes only adding to his ominous composure.
“I was never taught,” it was the truth, and after seeing the effects firearms had on certain people, along with the mistakes that came with them, you’d strayed away as long as you could. You were used to blades, your hands, your stand, you’d trained with everything else instead. “never needed one.”
To your surprise, a small smirk rose onto the assassin’s face, a chuckle nearly escaping with it. The fact you’d made it in La Squadra gun-less, he couldn’t decide whether it was impressive or humorous. Prosciutto only continued to shock you, a gun thrust from his pocket to line up with your chest.
“Then how are you supposed to face me with a gun?” Yes, you’d used one before, but only as a finishing blow, or at close range, you couldn’t aim if your life depended on it. Unfortunately, he had a point. You shrugged and kicked a rock near your foot.
“I suppose I’d charge you and die trying.” You sighed out, that rose a blonde brow, the man retracted his weapon, a slow shake of his head. A lecture was better than a beating you supposed. You hadn’t seen Prosciutto as a predictable person, he was committed and determined, along with serious and focussed, traits you’d see as things that made him a little more readable, yet his proposal brought on something you would’ve never guessed would.
“Then I suppose I’m teaching you?”
You narrowed your eyes and begged yourself to focus on the bottles sat a few meters in front of you on the railing. But alas, your hands couldn’t help but tremble, not enough to be obvious but enough to throw your aim. Though you’re line of work claimed it ridiculous, guns unnerved you, planted anxiety within you. The fools that wielded then and your fear to become just like them enraged you to no end. They were some that mastered the weapon, and held it with dignity. But others were given too much power, only resulting in deaths that weren’t needed, your past was proof of that. Eventually your vision blurred, shame of your weakness making the pressure on you only grow and swell. You weren’t even breathing anymore, were you? Regardless you got the shot over with, missing as you’d expected, and gasping out for air to return to your lungs. He watched your hand swing to your side, pistol hanging loose and forgotten, the shake still in your palms reassured him. That wasn’t the look of someone inadequate like he feared, but the image of someone holding back. “P-Prosciutto, I don’t think...” You shuddered at the man that let out sigh behind you, you disappointed him a second time hadn’t you?
“You’re all wrong,” you nearly chuckled dryly at his honesty, but then you felt his presence grow closer. As a large and calloused hand covered your own, you breath hitched. “shaky hands can’t shoot.” You felt the blonde’s own breath on the space between to your neck and shoulder as he adjusted, gently bringing you to lean back into his slim form, and straighten your posture. The support made you let out a relieved sigh. Your mind spiraled into such stress over the littlest things, but his closeness surprisingly seemed to help, and instead your rampant mind was forced to focus on other things. Though your heart surely quickened. And a gulp surely left you as his hands held your own, sandwiched between him of the pistol, bringing them all up in front of you to once again aim at the target. “Your feet are off too, like this.” Unbeknownst to him, now you were caving. Prosciutto had a leg between yours to presumably fix your positioning, guiding your feet further apart.
“O...okay.” An innocent action, but Dio Mio did your mind wonder elsewhere. Unfortunately this stalled your breath once again, and even less fortunate the man noticed. His chin hovered closer, so close he could rest it in your neck if he just inched-
“Breathe. Breathe and you’ll make the shot.” You obeyed and let all the air out of your lungs with a puff. Then you steadied your aim, finger finally resting on the trigger. If it weren’t for Prosciutto’s closeness and the distraction it bombarded you with you probably would’ve flinched when the gun went off.
The ring of glass shocked your ears. A gasp left your lips, you hit it, you hit it and it had shattered to the ground. In a silent victory you turned your head to Prosciutto, only an inch or so away in proximity. Regardless though you were grinning, usually you’d scold yourself for showing such vulnerability, yet you didn’t fight it in this moment. Especially because of the look on his face, was that pride in his eyes, for you?
“Molto meglio, bambina!” The lean blonde that was usually so stoic seemed genuinely excited about your performance. Such expression surprised you to say the least, you sent a humble smile. Whether the name bambina was flirtatious or simply teasing was unknown to you, hope bloomed in your chest but you forced the majority of it down. Your body missed the presence of his as it left you, you turned your head to meet a smug, yet genuine-looking toothy grin. Your breath hitched at the feeling of content that pooled in his indigo eyes, and a part of you wished you’d missed the shot. That way, maybe he’d force you into more of these meetings, just the two of you. You let out a quiet yet victorious chuckle.
“What are you talking about? You did most of the work.” Your eyes met the ground as you listened to his footsteps leave you, a graceful stride grabbed the remaining bottles, it was getting dark, no one sane would shoot in the dark. Before you even heard the man return, a forefinger and thumb caught your hung chin. Your eyelashes fluttered, the hand tilting your head ever so gently to meet those same azure eyes, lower-lashes accentuating their intimidating shape as they looked down on you. That same smug look met your gaze, you felt in a haze,
“Then I suppose we better practice again huh?” He leaned in even closer, such a tease, your breath fully stopped, lips parted in awe. The look in his eyes was one of fiery honesty. “But next time I won’t lay a finger on you, and you’ll make the shot.” The most you could manage was a nod, and a grin.
—-✧—-
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brunos-beloved · 3 years
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I really love your Fugo x reader fics and I was wondering if I could maybe a request something a bit fluffy with a reader who has a crush on Fugo and really likes his stand and is really patient and gentle with Purple Haze and just wants to show him love to calm him down? Perhaps the reader has a stand that could handle the virus but maybe Fugo doesn't know that too much and is scared for their safety? Sorry if this isn't very clear, I know anything you do will be great though! 🥺❤
calm : fugo pannacotta x reader
word count: 1.5k
summary: gentle reader comforts Fugo through his anger.
(sorry i didn’t really include purple haze in this one, i kinda just had an idea and went with it)
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—✧—
His anger didn’t make you uncomfortable, even in times maybe it should’ve. Fugo didn’t scare you, nor his stand, and you don’t think either of them ever could, even with a rage as seething and escalating as his. This was because despite his misgivings, you trusted and cared for him, all of him, and as you fought alongside Passione, those facts only seemed to grow more true.
“Fugo,” You grabbed his attention, using it as a way to warn him of your intervention. From earlier times you’d found the boy didn’t quite like being touched, mostly by surprise, the last time a curious hand had sneaked onto his shoulder nearly sent him reeling, a tight hand on your wrist in a millisecond, a fire in his eyes. But upon realizing it was just you, a person he trusted, the blonde settled, and apologized sheepishly. Although you hoped that this time, with warning and caution, he wouldn’t mind, or at least wouldn’t be so startled. The thought of someone rejecting your touch pained you, but leaving someone in need of comfort without even an offer was far more worrying. Reacting to your softly stern voice, the blonde looked your way, frustration still creasing his features. You held his eyes and pushed a palm onto his shoulder blade. Awaiting a harsh reaction that never came, you continued, and rubbed a small circle into his back. “You seem really stressed, this isn’t worth losing your head over.” Stress was a guess, the evidence the redness on the edge of his eyes and the bags that had settled underneath them. “Give it a rest and take a break alright?”
“But I...we weren’t even close to being finished this chapter. If I stop now-”
“Fugo, you need to stop now. You’re burnt out enough.” You sent him a small smile as he held onto your kind eyes. You were always so gentle towards him, Fugo wondered if he even deserved such treatment, then thought you probably just looked at everybody that way. You were soft, calm, and nearly always composed, everything he wasn’t. A soft hum brought him from his thoughts. “How about this...You take a break tonight, and if you really need to finish this chapter with Narancia I’ll finish it for you! Math was actually my best subject after all. I’ll probably even remember some of it...“ A broken smile made its way to Fugo’s lips, trying to imagine the two of you seriously studying Math together. Narancia was childish, and though you were quite mature he brought out the kindred spirit in you with his own childishness. He could see you teaching Narancia some things, but then quickly trailing off and suddenly Math Class became random tangents and bubbly discussion. Not much would get done, but at least something might. Fugo leaned into the table, an elbow down and a hand in his hair. The exhaustion that shone through his pose worried you to no end, and you let out a sigh. “I’d get you espresso, but you need sleep not caffeine.“
“It’s eight, I don’t think sleep is quite an option yet., madre” You narrowed your eyes at him, a hand still behind him, the expression would’ve made him chuckle if he hadn’t been so weighed down by the sudden fatigue. The moment he’d stopped yelling and chasing everything seemed to slowly crash within him.
“Tea it is then.“
Your determination knew no bounds. Though Fugo forced himself to remain awake, you brewed him a chamomile tea, and quite a strong one. Chamomile was a herb known for making yourself drowsy at night, a trick you used when sleep didn’t seem like an option. The night sky was still a navy blue, but began to descend into its usual rich black, the moon shining through. You’d dragged Fugo to the terrace along with a couple blankets, sharing an outdoor sofa there. With soothingly warm cups of tea in hand, the steam warming your cold noses, the two of you discussed topics of utmost importance. When Fugo started to drift the conversation over Narancia, you switched it to the origin of Chamomile, anger didn’t go nicely with sleep, which was your hidden goal in the end after all. Though you watched his violet eyes blink more and more often, watched his eyelids grow heavier and heavier, so did your own. And with passing time you realized Fugo’s determination to stay awake was much fiercer than your own. Despite everything though you continued on, chatting around and giggling about the tiny things the both of you were irritated by:
“His shoes? Really Fugo now you’re reaching-”
“He’s short enough to be an elf y/n how do you not see it!”
Trailing off and giving up on finding reason to such a statement, you burst into the chuckle you’d been trying to hold back. It seemed to Fugo, even something as innocent as Narancia’s shoes and height had become a problem. Though, you could tell it was not only lighthearted, but that Fugo had crossed the line of exhaustion where a person’s filter was completely lost and got rambly. But you didn’t miss the yawn that escaped him while you snickered at the diss. Your yawn followed his, and you stared into his violet eyes for a moment. The moonlight brushed his cheeks and ran through his hair, strawberry earrings swaying at the breeze.
“Are you tired?” You whispered, the trance broken between the two of you. He murmured something along the lines of not wanting to go the his room yet, though the dark tint under his eyes betrayed him. You hesitated, “You can lay down if you like,” The blonde rose a brow, quietly hoping the lack of room didn’t mean your departure. But when you patted your blanketed thighs he understood, blood rushing to his cheeks. “It’s almost a pillow, a lot more comfortable than sitting up.” You prayed, prayed he didn’t laugh or scoff. The pause made you nervous, but he replied before you could take back the offer.
“I couldn’t...Then you’d be sitting.” Fugo kicked himself for considering the offer and turning it over so many times in his mind. He wanted to, his tired back ached to, but Fugo wasn’t used to any kind of affection, and dejecting it seemed the easiest for his pride. But a smile rose to your kind face, and he was once again filled with uncertainty.
“I don’t mind, really. You look like you need it.” The expression on your face made his heart pound, the boy stared. Eventually Fugo sighed, and his frantic mind finally surrendered, the chamomile aiding his tired conscious to just accept it. He gulped and mumbled in agreement, slowly sinking into the comfort of your lap. Your own heart quickened at the sight, watching the tension leave the troubled teen. Your fingers hesitantly landed on his golden hair, running through the waves as the boy sighed in relief underneath your touch, you couldn’t help but smile and stare.
The night went on, the sky dark enough to show a fuller potential of its stars. You hummed, still running caring hands through Fugo’s hair. Your heart nearly sunk as he shifted, face looking up at you. He’d dozed off only ten minutes or so, the thought brought a small frown to your face. Though when he didn’t sit up, you heart rose again. After a bit of silence,
“Why are you so nice to me?” You were slightly taken aback, did you really need a reason to be? You supposed that was just how Fugo’s brain worked. Not being able to take without giving or losing and vice versa, you wondered if he always badgered himself for reasoning in scenarios that felt natural like this. Must everything follow rules, must everything have consequence? Your tired mind wished against it.
 “Because, I care about you, lots actually.” The raise in his brow and widened eyes made you heart throb, a blush settled on his cheeks again as you stroked his hair, a thumb brushing lightly across his freckles.
“Wh...why?” You almost chuckled at that.
“Well I was hoping you cared for me too but...” Before Fugo could panic at the supposed misunderstanding and sit up, you placed a hand on his chest. You couldn’t muster the words to explain yourself, at least not yet. You settled for holding his cheek, and leaving a peck on his temple. The action was performed as graceful as possible, as not to startle him, but on the inside you were practically vibrating. “Let’s sleep now, alright?” He seemed stunned, and you burned the cute expression into your memories before pulling away further, and leaning back into the arm of the chair. “Buona notte, Fugo.” You got a quiet response, but a response no less, falling asleep on the terrace with the boy you cherished and managed to soothe.
—✧—
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brunos-beloved · 3 years
Note
Heyyy!
Before I request, I would really like to say that I absolutely love your writing so far. Looking forward to more of your work. ♡
I was wondering if I could request a scenario with Abbacchio and his crush on a mission together, and they are close to being spotted by their enemy, so one of them decides to pull the other into a make-out session to avoid being caught, the enemy assuming their just a rowdy couple and leaves the two alone.
I hope this is alright! Wasn’t quite sure what you were comfortable with writing. Apologies if I over-stepped any boundaries!
cover: abbacchio leone x reader
summary: you get yourself spotted and have to come up with a convincing cover.
word count: 1.7k
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—✧—
You totally blew it. 
You utterly, and totally, blew it.
That instinct of yours had sworn he’d round the corner with his partner, but the bastard you were tailing with Abbacchio had turned around to double-check, making direct eye-contact with you no less. He’d just caught the sliver of you peeking from around the wall your body was pressed to. An action that made you flip away as your blood run cold in shock. The tall, lean man crouched beside you caught your face drop, but before painted lips, jet black from the  lighting, could part to question it, they were pulled up into an annoyed snarl by the noise. 
“Over there!” The shorter man shouted, his brawnier partner reappearing from the brick corner, “I told you someone was following us!”
You swore under your breath, practically launching your legs from the ground and into a sprint. Abbacchio followed, aura as deadly as ever, you’d really done it this time, hadn’t you? Shoes pummeled the mud and guns shots rang in the air. You were used to running by now, trying to survive in the streets of Italy, but if your clumsiness hadn’t come with speed you definitely wouldn’t have made it this far. For that you were grateful. You turned on your heels at the closest corner, yanking Abbacchio by the wrist in the pitch black. You’re sure he didn’t appreciate the handling, but he’d thank you later for it. You’d use the twists and turns of the alleyways to help you, taking the switches in direction as cover and hopefully losing the unwanted company. Your brain tried desperately to form some sort of escape plan, the two of you’d gotten most of the information you needed, you just had to mess it all up at the very end. You could feel the annoyance of your partner’s pale amber eyes burn into you, guilt filled the bottom of your stomach. You may have slipped up but you had no plan of getting the either of you shot.
You turned to him for a brief second, meeting his eyes, “I’ll fix this.” You muttered through the muddle of sounds chasing you, unsure if he could really even hear you. The determination in your face made his breath hitch, you were clumsy but always so fast to recover. For that, as a person who lacked the ability, Abbacchio truly envied you. He envied you for having the power to try after defeat so quickly, and though he’d never admit it, he admired you for it greatly.
The shouts of your pursuers bouncing around the alleyway walls made your head spin and heart race, but you could tell it’d be over soon, or at least that’s what your oh-so great instinct had told you. Your frantic swiftness carried you to the end of the shrouded alley, but you were met with the bright lights of the street you’d feared coming this way. A well-lit area was not what you had hoped to hide in. Before you could hardly process your position, the wind from cars whipping by ran across your cheeks as you flew out between the brick walls and into the blaring street. 
Abbacchio followed, letting out what sounded like half a sigh half a groan, silver hair sticking to his face. “What the hell now ragazza matta?” Your head turned looking for an out, on your left was a lively bar, and at your heels your rowdy pursuers struggling in the alley. The stretch of city was too long to run through without being spotted, it forced you to go straight ahead, leaving your backs to your enemies for far too long to be comforting. There was another alley to dip into on the other side of the street, but the traffic tonight was ruthless, and unless you planned to alert the cars of your presence too, sounding horns and brakes, and make it even more obvious, you’d rather not. As your mind frenzied for footing, you focused in on a drunk couple stumbling and squishing themselves into a cab, an idea rising to the surface. You were near a bar...with a man you‘d come with...so a fitting position with Abbacchio that would be waved off and left alone easily would be...would be... Whether your mind was completely in the gutter or that was a strike of absolute genius you truly didn’t know.
“Make out with me.” You stated bluntly, more to yourself hardly thinking. Abbacchio’s face was one of utter confusion, a brow twitching up and his dark lips parting in awe, overtaking the usual irritation that rested underneath most of his expressions.
“Pardon me?” His deep voice was like venom, challenging your statement like one would a sick joke. “Che cazzo are you talking about-” Time was of the essence, and though you weren’t usually this bold, you had to act. You squared your shoulders to the nearest a wall and grabbed handfuls of black fabric, tugging his lithe form to nearly loom over your own. You’d always found his height intimidating, but eventually getting used to his presence made him feel more mysterious and somber, something you didn’t usually find in anyone else you’d encountered, at least not to this degree.
“Trust me.” You beckoned with a face that was anything but joking, holding onto golden eyes firmly with your own. They looked haunting with the shadows cast on his face. Before Abbacchio could look away to the noise growing closer from the alley your palms steadied his head, you swallowed your pride, and you brought his pale face to yours. 
Yes, maybe you had been hoping for this certain event to occur eventually, daydreaming about it for quite some time now, but these circumstances were nearly laughable. You figured beggars couldn’t be choosers though, at least after tonight if it turned out Abbacchio wasn’t nearly as fond of you as you were him, which was your prediction, you had an excuse to finally know what it felt like to kiss the gorgeous man at least once in your life. In this moment you pondered, nearly sure his pessimism had rubbed off on you. No, you weren’t the closest personally, you weren’t one to pry, and you knew what you needed to, but with Abbacchio’s nature you figured it surely wasn’t an easy task. Yet, sometimes you wondered if there was something more between the sarcastic banter or the nights you’d shared a bottle of wine or two, passing out into his shoulder later on in the night, drowsy on the strong fumes of alcohol. Were you just someone to drink with? Or would he enjoy someone else’s company less than your own? You’d thought of these things quite often, but the fact that tonight’s mission might either make these daydreams reach fruition or have you completely rejected put a slight weight over your heart. 
To your surprise, when you brought his lush lips to your own, you weren’t shoved away or scolded. You swiped your thumb across his cheekbone, the silver hair cascading down that brushed your knuckles was soft, the encouragement waking him from his hesitance. The action felt relieving with a twinge of selfishness for him. Violet lips danced on your own as he slowly let himself ease his weight closer to the wall, soon enough your were feverish and pressed together like rowdy teenagers. Not unlike you, he’d thought of treating you this way before, often actually. Despite his self-deprecating tendencies, even Abbacchio realized this was no opportunity to be dismissed, even for someone he despised as much as himself. You pulled apart but not too far, and surprisingly careful hands brushed your hips, amber eyes in a haze. You took it as a queue to latch your legs around his waist, pulling Abbacchio even closer. You brought him back into you with a needy hand on the back of his neck, the other still softly gliding against his cheek. If your heart hadn’t been beating out of your chest before, your plan was about to be proven, hasty footsteps hammering down the street somewhere nearby, yet the squeezing hands beneath your thighs drove your attention elsewhere.
When the pattering feet had finally retreated out of earshot, dashing across the busy street according to the horns you’d heard blaring and swore to avoid, the both of you pulled away, breathless and panting. Abbacchio wasn’t an easy individual to read, yet you swore he seemed torn between continuing and setting you down. Unfortunately, he willed himself to do the latter. After an awkward pause, you broke the silence. 
“We should head back to Bucciarati.” You forced out, trying your best not to sound at all flustered. Abbacchio let out a delayed sound of agreement. 
The walk back to Libeccio was silent so far, you were nearly halfway back and not a word. Maybe it hadn’t been your place after all. You went to apologize, but thanked him for trusting you. Abbacchio’s golden eyes cut into you like daggers, as they usually did when he was irritated, but you couldn’t tell if it was due to what you’d done or what you’d said. 
“Whatever, I don’t give una merda, it was just a distraction.” The frown potent in his face made your tired eyes droop. Had you really screwed up again today? 
“Abbacchio, I’m so-”
“Shut it.” The words that cut you off hurt, but when you looked up their meaning was flipped entirely. Before it was jerked away to the street, you’d caught his expression, flustered with the faintest blush. Even though it wasn’t an exact answer to your worries, it brought a grin onto your face.
“Abbacchio-” You called out, his gaze turning back to you. Before he could interrupt with a snark retort you made a proposition, heart once again hopeful. “let’s talk about it tonight,” you stated bluntly like you had your plan by the bar earlier, spitting the words out before you could stop yourself out of worry. “over a drink?“ Surprise softened his porcelain face for second time today, his tight expression falling. Abbacchio didn’t answer, leaving you with a ‘tch’ and the slight smirk that climbed onto his lips before it was gone as fast as it came. 
But for you, that was answer enough.
—✧—
this took me a lil while, abbacchio’s hard to write for me 0.o but i hope you enjoy this :)
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brunos-beloved · 4 years
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I’d like to request a scenario where narancia gets jealous of someone flirting with his s/o but she reassures him 🥰 (would be a plus if she told the person flirting to fuck off too hehe)
persistent stranger : narancia ghirga x reader
summary: You run into a very persistent stranger, once he’s finally gone the two of you comfort each other through newly born insecurities.
word count: 2.2k 
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—✧—
As any other day, Bucciarati’s gang was at their usual table at the usual restaurant. Though, rather than being as peaceful and comforting to you as it normally was, you’d ran into an issue. Said issue being this; the moment you’d left the table for a cappuccino rather than waiting for service, you were stopped by a stocky man that had eyes with definite ulterior motive. At first you’d taken a couple compliments with a friendly smile, hoping that’d be enough to entertain him, and he’d leave you be to wait for your coffee alone. Unfortunately, this just hadn’t been the case.
“So, you come here often?“ You nearly cringed outwardly at the statement, usually just something innocent and friendly, but in the context of this man’s intentions it didn’t sit right with you at all. The fact you’d caught him staring at your table hadn’t helped either, you’d been sitting with Narancia, glued to his side with your head drowsily draped on his shoulder nearly all night, that’s why you’d gotten up for some caffeine in the first place! 
“Yeah.” You answered quickly, hoping the short and sharp answer would put him off. The man only seemed to smirk at that, leaving an uneasy feeling in your stomach. You prayed this cappuccino would be ready soon. 
“You’re bellissima.”
“I’m taken.” You shot back with fervor, not even sparing him glances anymore, focusing on the steam rising from the espresso machine rather than the empty words coming from the dirty blonde’s mouth. You hadn’t seen it, but the matter-a-factly hum told you the rat was smirking again, as if this only added a challenge he’d been hoping for. You felt yourself shrink in your dress, not something you wore often, the most you’d usually go for were skirts. Narancia called you paranoid for your reasoning, a dress wasn’t the best thing for mobility, and you were always worried about what could happen next. But il tuo ragazzo lit up at the sight of it, expressing that you were allowed to feel pretty once in a while, though he followed that with an adorable panic, something about how he thought of you that way in anything you wore. He bore his own charming cream dress-shirt, you’d helped him roll the cuffs. Narancia was sweet, but a part of you told you this is what you got for relaxing and trying to enjoy yourself, despite the shower of compliments he’d given you earlier. You were a stressed and tormented soul, an overthinker. There were a lot of times the boisterous boy managed to brighten your day.
“Hey, testa di cazzo!“ Relief hit your legs at the sound of his voice, Narancia was ready to leave the gang’s table, despite his teammates advice. Your coffee had finally arrived, though before you got the chance to take it, an unwanted hand met your waist. You were nearly in awe at this persistence.
“Is that your man? Really, that little boy?” That little boy happened to be the same age as you, which had been another unfortunate difference between you and this stranger, most likely late-20’s. “Why don’t you come with someone like me instead?” You grimaced outwardly this time, fighting the urge to spit in his face, but instead backing away and finally getting your hands on your cup, ready to leave as soon as possible. As you turned on your heels, you were finally met with a familiar pair of eyes, grape purple and shining. Though at this moment Narancia’s eyes were filled with rage, which you’d assumed only grew as he got up from the table and came towards you two, dark brows furrowed and lips pulled into a snarl. 
The sudden grip on your arm nearly made the cup topple from your other hand, the shift of porcelain sounding against your saucer, and once again you were in awe at the audacity of this scum. Luckily it didn’t last long, the shock from the sight in front of him loosened his grip. You wrenched away and nearly smiled. The dark-haired boy had slammed his knife into the counter with a growl, catching the center of the man’s cashmere tie along the way. He paled like a dog on the end of a leash, though you could tell he was trying to keep up his cocky composure. He looked like the type to snap back, but he didn’t look armed at the moment, another evidence of his cockiness. Narancia held his glare, long-lashed and furious. Before he got too angry and too loud, you decided to step in- although, that didn’t necessarily mean you weren’t allowed to be angry. The two of you leaned over the man, still on his stool. You both had relatively brutal tempers, the only difference being yours was more cool-headed in comparison to Narancia’s fiery nature.
“That’s a very nice suit, was it expensive?” You forced a smile and raised your brows, you could tell he was surprised at the compliment, Narancia’s head spun to you with the same emotion. Leaning one elbow onto the counter to feign collection, you eyed his tie, raising your other arm, the one holding the beverage you’d waited for oh-so patiently. You drizzled it up his tie enjoyably slow, finishing it off with a jerk of your wrist towards the chest of his suit. You dropped the porcelain cup onto the counter, the man was nearly red, the only restraint from bursting being the knife to his drenched cashmere tie. You watched his eyes land onto your table like they had earlier tonight, though this time he was forced to focus on its other occupants. Mista spread his legs to send a peek of his pistol, and then he noticed the entire gang’s intimidating presence, retreating to the restroom rather than complaining.
You intertwined Narancia’s free fingers with your own, slowly at ease you could finally leave peacefully you guided him back to your table. Pressing a lazy kiss onto the boy’s cheek in hopes of cooling his remaining anger, the rosy tint that appeared after pleased you greatly. Though he was flustered by just how cool he thought you’d acted just now, he was relieved to see the comfortable smile that appeared back onto your face. But despite that relief, a tinge of jealousy remained within his chest.
“Nasty,” Mista commented as you finally made it back to the table, in wonder at the social brutally he’d just witnessed. You definitely weren’t the loudest of the group, but that didn’t always completely mask you hidden anger.
“Nasty? Y/N’s cool Mista! Did you see how cool she was?” You let out a breath of relief, content that Narancia was nearly back to his bubbly self, you hated worrying him. You did have one regret from that encounter though, and that was sacrificing your cappuccino, the fatigue finally setting in with the sigh. 
You tugged at the boys sleeve drowsily, “Nara, can we go home? I can’t wait to get this dress off...” Before your beloved could aid you with a reply, a certain gunslinger had to slip in another cheeky comment.
“Even nastier.” You nearly blushed at the suggestion, but chuckled quietly with him at the strangled noise that came from the boy beside you, followed by a very expected ‘Mista!’ You heard a snort from Abbacchio and caught the small smiles from Giorno and Bruno across the table, Narancia starting the regular squabble with Mista on the other corner. You grinned too, though the wholesome moment was interrupted by a stabbing pain above your brow. You held your forehead, it felt like you were having caffeine withdrawal, though you figured it was just a stressful situation paired with the original fatigue from before. Your stomach flipped too, that wasn’t a scenario you’d ever had to deal with. Sure, you knew you looked good tonight, Trish’s praises and Narancia’s reaction had to be proof of that, but that man... he’d still managed to make you feel like nothing, no one, like some whore on the side of the street. You weren’t just tired now, your legs felt limp at the thought, and you truly wanted to go home and change.
Eventually all eyes were on you, either concerned or confused. You held back a gasp at the hands that landed on the side of your shoulders, whipping your head to their direction snapping you out of your daze. It was Narancia, you’d worried him again, hadn’t you?
“Are you-”
“M-mi dispiace! I zoned out there for a second...” You cut him off with an apology before he could express his concerns, trying your best not to avoid his eyes, long-lashes and rich purple. However you couldn’t manage it, your own darting to the side as you backed away slightly. “I’m heading back, if you want to stay a little longer that’s alright.” 
The boy let out a confused noise and blinked at you. “No way! You said you were tired, no? I’ll come with you!”
The walk to the car was silent, surprisingly considering Narancia’s presence, but once the two of you’d gotten in you understood. You pushed a playful finger into your cheek, “You’ve been staring at me this whole time carino, do I have something on my face?” You attempted to lighten the mood you’d dampened. He shook his head, messy dark hair bouncing at the motion, his big round eyes seemed determined, Narancia of all people was forcing you to fill the silence. Whether he wasn’t sure he should ask again or it was for another reason you didn’t know. “Sorry, it’s just- I think I was right about not being cut out for wearing stuff like this, even though I was really hoping I hadn’t been...and...I don’t know.” You tried to explain the source of your current anxiety. Narancia blinked like he had at the restaurant, staring you dead in the eyes, and when you hadn’t continued, he let out a sound of disbelief that was closer to the volume of the lover you’d signed up for. 
“Not ‘cut out for it’? Who the hell’s ‘cut out for it’?”
“The guy at the bar? M-maybe it was too much...”
“You look stunning cara! Who wouldn’t want to be with you?” His answer nearly melted your heart into a puddle. Narancia’s honesty was another thing you loved about him. He was an absolutely brutal liar, but that made it even easier to tell just how genuine he was. Though, that’s an aspect of him that made him so readable, and right now you could tell there was something he wasn’t saying. Bright eyes the color of shiny red grapes retreated to the dash, the boy seemed troubled by something. “So,” You pressed a hand onto his arm, egging him on to tell you, “why would you want to be with someone like me?” 
Ah, that explained his behavior. It seems the event at restaurant had taken a mental toll on both of you tonight. A smile finally grazed its way back onto your lips, your confidence a little more elevated by his compliments. You leaned in for a kiss, closing the gap between you two. It was soft and short, you stared at him with fondness.
“Thank you, amore.” You carefully rose your palms to his cheeks, thumbs brushing across his tanned skin. “Ma tu sei l'unico per me.” Narancia was the only one for you, and you had to let him know that. You sat up to peck his forehead, lips brushing his soft bangs. The goofy smile across his face made you want to giggle, Narancia’s joy had always been contagious. He swooped down for another kiss, leaning into your side of the car. When he pulled back you grabbed a handful of his silk collar, bringing him in closer and pressing your lips firmly to his. Narancia ran his hands over your curves and eagerly ushered his way into your seat. Then suddenly your moment was cut short, the two of you jumping in shock at the sound of a blaring car horn, your heads flipping every direction for the reason for such a noise. 
Then you realized, coincidentally, it had been your car horn.
Sucking in a gasp of air you burst out laughing at that, how Narancia’s knee even made it near the steering wheel completely unbeknownst to you. Narancia straightened, the same insight hitting him. The grape-eyed boy slapped a hand over his lips, face flushing, yet you still caught the muffled laughter underneath his fingers. After you’d recovered, sighing and coming back down from the high, you grasped the hand on his rosy face. The eyes that had been squeezed shut fluttered open, watching your movements expectantly. You pulled it away to hold the hand delicately, Narancia was just someone that made you smile, you found him adorable. After leaving a long but soft kiss on the lips you’d revealed, you pulled back.
“It’s only getting later, let’s head home carino.”
—✧—
this was a lot longer than probably expected but I wanted to have an actually fleshed out ending if that makes sense (also narancia’s like my fav oops)? Thanks for reading, I hope you guys enjoyed ;)
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brunos-beloved · 4 years
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when did you close the matchups? I had sent one the other day and I'm afraid I didn't see if you closed them, if I sent it in that case I apologize ;w;
ah sorry! no you’re fine I JUST closed them yesterday-ish, my inbox went from 10 to 38 reaaaaal quick and I’m so excited!!! but a lot of them are matchups so I thought I’d close them so I can catch up before i take more!
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brunos-beloved · 4 years
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Do you write for any of the villains specifically from la squadra? is there any characters that you won't write for?
Yes! Send me a risotto/prosciutto request and I’ll die 🤯 they’re my favourite. Chances are I’ll write for them unless they make me too uncomfortable or I can’t take them seriously 😳(cough pesci cough). But send away villain lovers ;)
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brunos-beloved · 4 years
Text
i now write part 6 characters as well :)
🌟 YO YO YO JOJO BLOG JOJO BLOG 🌟
~(updated) rules~
-(NEW) characters from parts 1-6 (no spoilers for part 6 please I’m reading it!)
-scenarios
-headcanons
-matchups
note: I’ll write female readers UNLESS requested otherwise, feel free to :))) and only sfw but maybe suggested nsfw???
REQUEST AWAY BABY ฅ^•ﻌ•^ฅ
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brunos-beloved · 4 years
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I really like the bruno fic 💗💗 & was wondering if I could request fugo with a s/o who is patching up his injuries and she catches him looking at her with adoration 🥺💗thank you!!
thank you 💕 I’m glad you like it! 
quiet comfort : fugo pannacotta x reader
summary: Fugo needs patching up, and you generously help him out.
word count: 1k
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—✧—
Your nose wrinkled at the stench of rubbing alcohol, and Fugo flinched at the sting. Well, not quite flinching, but you watched the small twitch of his brow and the pull at the edge of his lips. You figured that was the closest thing to a flinch you’d ever see of him. He was quite reserved and seemed used to concealing a lot of himself, perhaps that’s what made you initially so curious about the boy. It was either that or his apparent intellect. You didn’t see Fugo in action often, and when you did it doing quick math with Narancia, or the things that he’d say that you would’ve never thought of as fast. Though, this time it seemed he could’ve thought faster, the wounds on his body told you their enemy had indeed been a tough one. You weren’t too worried, but for some reason your heart tinged at the sight of him arriving earlier with so much blood soaked into his clothing, even if it wasn’t too rare an occurrence in Passione.
“Grazie... for helping me with this.“ Fugo sat down, opening his shirt and leaving it on the bed beside his chair. You replied with a positive hum.
Fugo didn’t fully trust Golden Experience, not because he didn’t trust Giorno but because he didn’t exactly understand it. So, after being stubborn yet diligent, no one but you volunteered to the task. You’d challenged him on it at first though, curious. He just expressed that his wounds weren’t serious enough to bother Giorno’s skills with anyways.
You dabbed and rinsed and dabbed and rinsed your cloth to rid his skin of the blood and grime left behind from the battle. You found the situation quite awkward actually, partially due to the pure silence and partially to the fact he was shirtless. You’d always found Fugo handsome, you were a little fond of him, even in his reserved and curious ways- though you did your best to stay concentrated, and avoided staring. This smothered any sparks that may have started conversation though, and the room fell silent as if the neither of you had spoken in the first place. Although, eventually somehow it was comforting. It wasn’t often you were alone with Fugo Pannacotta, the silence seemed fitting, the window beside him made the room lullingly warm, the sound of water dripping from the cloth and hitting the bucket at your feet. Not to mention you’d been running a lot of errands lately, the noisy traffic today had given you a headache, this might’ve been exactly what you needed. After some time though, you felt his violet eyes arise in your mind, snapping you from your daze. You were nearly positive he was staring at you. Said eyes met yours when you brought your head up to look at him. The look on Fugo’s face wasn’t one you’d seen from him before. There were hardly any creases in his angled face, no evidence of his usually stressed or frustrated nature. You swore his lips were just shy of a smile, and his eyes told you he was relaxed. You wondered what he was thinking,
“Do you need anything?” The sunlight of the window made his blonde hair look golden, it was hard to look away from, but before you got the chance yourself his face was turned away. The troubled boy slapped a palm onto his forehead under his bangs, desperate to look elsewhere. He shook his head rather than answering verbally.
Was he, Fugo Pannacotta of all people, just flustered by you? 
You couldn’t help but let a grin climb onto your face, you held in most of the chuckle spilling out behind your lips for his sake though. That hadn’t been enough, by the rosy tint of blood rushing to his ears you had a feeling he’d heard it anyway. After muttering about something along the lines of a window, Fugo uneasily got up from his seat. You followed suit, was he hoping to reopen all the wounds you’d just worked?!
“Aspetta, Fugo! You’ll do more damage, sit down!” Your plead landed on deaf ears, so you moved passed him, grabbing a bare shoulder and nearly shoving him back onto his seat, up to do the task of closing the window yourself.
“So bossy...” you rolled your eyes at the blonde’s response, all you were speaking was the truth. There was a wide gash just below his knee you wanted to stitch for him.
“Say that again when I have a needle in my hand.” Fugo’s expression made you laugh without restrain this time, his raised brows said that had truly surprised him. You placed a hand on his knee and sent him a smile, “I’m kidding! I’ll try my best.” you would, but that didn’t make you any less nervous. Fugo’s cheeks warmed at the touch, something he wasn’t at all used to. Though the occurrence happened a lot more around you, you were probably just touchy, at least in comparison to him. Not in an extreme way that might make him uncomfortable, but just enough contact to be either reassuring, or teasing even. You watched Fugo bow his head and let out a sigh, though you’d seen another soft smile. After being in Passione with him for a long time, you’d learned Fugo’s emotions were shown a lot more subtly than most, aside from his anger or frustration at times. But even so, you tried your best to notice what he was feeling, even though he wasn’t always the most readable. 
You steadied your hands after fastening thread into the needle, and prepared to stitch him up. About to ask for permission, the same feeling as last time washed over you, and you could tell his rich violet eyes were watching you again. You took it as permission enough, feeling a lot less nervous than before under his gaze. 
The silence that ensued was once again comfortable, a lot more easily this time. A smile graced your face, this time his stare made your heart calm, soothed rather than stressed about making a mistake.
—✧—
i finished part 5 an hour ago and- oh- i- actually, let’s not talk about it :’) But, second work on here!!! I hope you like it, I realize now that you might’ve wanted the two already together, but this is kinda just what came out. I’m down for a second part of this if anyone’s still craving more, though.
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brunos-beloved · 4 years
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What are the requirements for matchups? Like, what are the info you like on matchups? Sign? Personality type? Likings? Disliking?
Yes, those are good and nice to write around, along with whatever specific facts or details about yourself you’d like to add :) I’m not used to doing them yet so go off honestly.
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