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2020-09-04
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2020-10-08
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JJBA requests - Ongoing 💀

Summary:

Quarantine has got us all pent up and bored (at least for me it is). To fill the void of content give me your best (or worst) oneshot requests!

(also this is a way for me to stop cluttering my account with fics-)

Feel free to drop any requests in the comments, but please be mindful of my boundaries, cause some of yall got issues.

 

A/N: Slow updates

Chapter 1: Rules

Chapter Text

Ey welcome to my hell on earth! Here's just some rules and whatever as well as upcoming stuff Im working on. Below are just some ideas, things I like to write about, things I wont write about, the works. Be as detailed as you want with your request, even if its just a request for a ship (im sure ill figure something out lol) 


 


What I will write 

─── ・ 。゚☆: *.☽ .* :☆゚. ───



"Ships"


Below is a list of ships I personally enjoy. Im willing to write about other ships/ships that contradict mine (such as if you ship Risotto and Bruno yet I ship Bruabba) 

 

  • BruAbba (Bruno Bucciarati/Leone Abbacchio) 
  • Jotakak (Jotaro Kujo/Noriaki Kakyoin) 
  • CaeJose (Caesar Zeppeli/Joseph Joestar)
  • FuGio (Pannacotta Fugo/Giorno Giovanna)*
  • NaraMis (Guido Mista/Narancia Ghirga)
  • AvPol  (Muhammad Avdol/Jean-Pierre Polnareff)
  • Seccolata (Secco/Cioccolata)*
  • Squatizi (Squalo/Tiziano)
  • Sorlato (Sorbet/Gelato)
  • Risacchio ? (Risotto Nero/Ghiaccio) 
  • RisPro (Risotto Nero/Prosciutto) 
  • Gyjo (Gyro Zeppeli/Johnny Joestar)
  • Josuyasu (Josuke Higashikata/ Okysasu Nijimura)*
  • BosuDop (Diavolo Una/Vinegar Doppio)*
  • FugoNara

(There's probably more I haven't listed but just ask!) 

Note: Some of these ships I won't write explicit content with. I've only read up to part 5 and will probably be skipping part 6 (until the anime is out). If any ship doesn't violate anything I'm against then I'll chill with writing it. Just because a ship isn't my personal taste doesn't mean I won't write it. 




"Content"

I am ok with whatever just be mindful of the stuff I won't write about. 


  • Fluff
  • Angst 
  • Smut*
  • Crack fics
  • Domestic/Homelife
  • AgeRe/Caregiver*
  • Mpreg*
  • Y/N*

    Anything else is also welcome. Just ask~

    Quick note: I don't mind writing trans fics, the only problem I have with them is that the majority of them will not be pre-bottom smut. Those sorts of fics make me uncomfortable but anything else is chill. (I might write one or two pre-trans fics). 

 

-Length-


I usually don't plan out how long my fics are, I just go with the flow. But expect things to be 1000-8000 words. Fluff, smut, angst, and Domestic/Slice of Life will tend to be longer. 

 


 

What I will NOT write 
─── ・ 。゚☆: *.☽ .* :☆゚. ───

I am NOT willing to negotiate on these. I'm not into shipping toxic/borderline Illegal ships. Please dont even ask. 

-Ships-

I wont list out all the ships but please no Pedophila (GioMis, BruGio, BruTrish). 
Incest (GioDio, Giolyne, Josutaro)
Dio Pucci (this is a trigger ship of mine - dont request it) 
FuGio: Again, no smut, possibly some heated stuff but they're minors so be aware. 
Josuyasu: Yet again, minors. No.Smut. 
BosuDop: I'm somewhat ok with smut between these two. But don't ask me to write about them splitting, makes me uncomfy. 


-Content-

R*pe/Non-Con, Dub-con. Don't even ask. 
DDLG: As someone whos an agere I will never write DDLG content. That doesnt mean I wont write about caregivers/Littles. Im completely fine with that as long as it is NOT SEXUAL. 
Hardcore smut.:There's some "kinks" that I'm ok with. Inappropriate use of stands are alright but please don't give me anything to weird. (Im ace let me live in peace). 
Underage: I will never write about underage ships. GioMis is a hot topic rn but I won't write about it. 
Aged Up fics: Don't ask me to write about something like GioMis smut but say they're of age, I'm not comfortable with it. 
MPreg: Its iffy with me. I'm not gonna write it in a sexual way or like actual birth but Im chill with it to an extent. 
Y/N: I don't mind writing [Whatever jojo character] x Y/N as long as they aren't a minor, it isn't smut (kissing is fine). 


This list may be updated in the future. Don't be afraid to ask about something that isn't listed here. The worst I can say is no. 




Planned works
─── ・ 。゚☆: *.☽ .* :☆゚. ───
Chapter 13: ??? (Jotakak) 
Chapter 14: ??? (DinoPants) 
Chapter 15: (Yukakoich





Finished works
─── ・ 。゚☆: *.☽ .* :☆゚. ───

Chapter 1: Regulations/Rules 
Chapter 2: One in the same (JonaDio)  
Chapter 3:VI - The lovers: (RisPro) 
Chapter 4: As The World Caves In: (AvPol)
Chapter 5: Daturas and Daffodils: (FuGio)
Chapter 6: A kiss to dream on: (Josuyasu) 
Chapter 7: My baby in the limelight (BosuDop) 
Chapter 8: Wanna be a cowboy baby (Gyjo)
Chapter 9: Traitors And a Sunflower (Ris x Reader)
Chapter 10: Heart of glass (Josuyasu) 

Antisocial and Apathetic (DioPucci) - deleted
Simply Simple:(DioPucci) - deleted

Chapter 2: One in the same: (JonaDio)

Summary:

Dio Brando is, and always will be a broken bastard. But like everyone, he has his limits.

 

Note: This isn't a ship. Just brothers being brothers.

Notes:

content warning: canon type violence, ptsd mentions.

(See the end of the chapter for more notes.)

Chapter Text

Jonathan looked to the growing crowd. The sea of people cheered as his opponent stepped into the ring, kicking up angry red dirt as he wiped the sweat from his forehead. Most of them were probably wishing he was dead, or that he hadn't turned up to the fight at all.

He wondered the same thing, even he wasn't sure why he'd shown up. Jonathan knew he would lose the fight but couldn't turn Dio down. Dio challenged him to a follow-up match, deciding their last fight was satisfying enough. Then again, he only agreed to fight to please Dios constant need to be on top. If he didn't fight with him then one would would and pent up anger was the last thing Jona wanted to deal with.


"Oi Joestar! Stop daydreaming and get your ass in there!"


Jonathan looked up from his gloves, dumbfounded and shocked as he scanned the area. Everyone was waiting, Dio in the middle of the ring, arms crossed with a splitting glare.


"Right! Sorry!" Jonathan apologized, jumping from his place. 


"What are you doing JoJo? You really this fucking slow?" Dio shouted, tightening the straps of his gloves.


Jonathan noticed a new energy between the pair. He could barely hear the cheering that surrounded them thanks to the blood rushing to his face. It wasn't their first time fighting and certainly wouldn't be their last. Jonathan always wondered where he learned to fight that way. Part of him didn't believe ally fights taught him how to doge like that.


"Same as ever, land a blow the others face and the match is over. I want a clean fight between you two, no more eye poking you got it Brando?" 

"Won't promise anything." He said with an amiable but languid wink.


The bell chimed, the crowd picking up his cheering as the two moved closer to the middle. Jonathan was quick to defence, putting his arms up before Dio even moved.


"You afraid of me Joestar?"


He didn't waste any time when throwing the first punch. He swiftly threw out his first, forcing Jonathan back onto the defense. Jonathan stepped back, balancing his weight onto one food and threw his left first out in a curved swing to his opponents temple. Turing on his heal he brought his right forearm up to counter the blow, forming a fist with his left and swung a punch to Jonathan's chest. He wheezed, his knees buckling against his will. He managed to avoid another blow by staggering backwards, choking desperately for air. 

Whatever he was thinking about, it wasn't pleased. Jonathan could tell that much by the tears that poked at the corners of his eyes. He guessed it might have been the dust that had been kicked up but the way his mouth was pressed tightly he thought otherwise. Watching helplessly as Dio walked towards him, pulling him up to his feet. Jonathan heard the slight rasp of material ripping, almost tearing the collar of his shirt.  

He watched helplessly as Dio walk towards him, pulling him up to his feet, Jonathan heard the slight rasp of material ripping.

Dio snarled, wiping the sweat off of his cheek that made his gloves glisten in the blazing sunlight. "What makes you think you can win this?" he barked.


"I don't-". Jonathan coughed out, gasping as he was thrown back onto his feet.


For a moment, Dios expression faded into one of regret. The fire in Jonathan eyes burned much stronger than his anger. Jonathan managed to straight up, pure rage crossed his brothers face. For a moment, he heard his fathers voice ringing in the back of his ear, and echo of the lecture from their previous fight: "Don't fight angry. That's never what the games about".

But no one had told Dio that. 

He charged at Dio, fists tight. One fast straight punch to his unprotected jaw and his head was whipping back faster than he could be on the defense. Jonathan watched his body arch in every unnatural way. His spine snapped back on him like a broken band, lifting him from his balance and clear to the ground. Jonathan looked down at him, among the dust and dirt the blondes face was bright red and full of pain. It was glorious, if you liked that sort of thing. And for a moment, Jonathan loved it.


"Dio loses the fight!" The ref announced loudly over the roaring crowd.


"How did he get so good?!" someone cheered, everyone hopping the aging fence and over to Jonathan to congratulate him.


"Nah Jonathans to much of a sissy to come up with something like that" another said.


"Tell us your secret Jonathan! Were you just playing coy with em?" 


Jonathan smiled, putting his hands up in defeat of the questions and laughed nervously. "Thank you, really thank you but Dio-".


"Who cares about em! That bugger dont know what's good for him. He ain't done no good for nobody".


Jonathans expression turned cold. "Now that isn't-". Jonathan was cut off by a tug at his sleeve, he looked down at a small boy who was tugging on his shirt.


"Mr. Jonathan sir? Could we get a photo for the paper?".


Jonathan stared down at the paperboy who was tugging at his sleeve with a bright smile. He looked over at a small parting in the crowd, Dio was still sitting on the ground. His head was tucked between his knees with his arms sheltering his head. A medic knelt next to him, asking questions and tending to the wound on his elbows from his fall. He frowned, his conscious eating away at him as he turned back to the boy with a forced smile. 


"Alright. One photo couldn't hurt no one". 



~



The polished wooden doors creaked as they opened. The staccato beat of his heels echoed of the chessboard-pattern marble and granite pillars. He crept down the hallway towards his bedroom, the candlelight swallowing shadows in its wake. The home was otherwise quiet despite the sound of chirping crickets in the garden.

Jonathan eventually made it to his bedroom door without waking anyone but paused for a moment when the silence broke. The hair on the back of his neck stood up as a whine broke the calming nightly sounds. He guessed there might have been a maid or one of the butlers had come to investigate who had walked into the mansion but he feared that despite his efforts he had woken his father up. He opened his door, cringing at the creaking and moaning it made as he slipped by. 

He sat down at the edge of the bed, kicking off his shoes and pulling off his shirt, dirtied from his fight and from the after party he joined at a nearby pub. He assumed that Dio would join, seeing that most of his friends were there and had offered him to join. He couldn't think of his nights activities due to the whines picking up again, the noise sending a chill down his spine. 

When he could put it off no more he tiptoed out of the room and looked down the hallway. The floor was cold and smooth, the wood creaking under his weight as he ventured down the hallway. The only light came from a slit between the sagging curtains at the window, the moonlight barely enough for him to make out anything.


"Danny?" he called out, being met with silence.


The closer he got to the other end of the hallway, the louder the noise got. He passed the entrance to the mansion and crept down the left corridor.


"Please don't be a ghost, please don't be a ghost" he begged as he crept closer.


He reached for a door handle, swallowing his fear and twisting it slightly but he couldn't get up the courage to push the door open. Please don't be a ghost he thought again. He sucked in a breath, feeling his pulse in his ears as he quickly shoved the door open.


"Whatever Ghost is in here! Prepare for a fight because I'm not letting you!-".


It wasn't dark like the hallway, the room illuminated by the sconces and oil lamps that burned brightly. He took a glance at the bed, meeting eye to eye with Dio whos shoulders were at his ears. He was breathing heavily, his eyes were red and puffy, bruises littered all over his face.


"Dio?" Jonathan questioned, dropping his hands at his sides. 

"Don't Dio me! The fuck are you doing in my room?!" 

"Your room?" Jonathan paused and looked around the room.


Fragrant and cozy the room was a carbon copy of Jonathans, apart from the books and papers that were thrown across the desk and almost every surface of the room. The bed had a similar frame and sheets, red and gold floral patterns weaving against the wrinkles of the blanket.


"Im sorry. I heard a noise and came to investigate".


Dio scoffed, rubbing his eyes dry from the tears that continued to fall. 


"Well good for you detective. You found your intruder, now let me sleep-". Dio pulled the blankets closer to him and fell back onto the bed, his back turned to Jonathan.

"Dio?..." 



He groaned, lolling onto his back and glaring at Jonathan. "What do you want?". 



"Were you crying?". 



The blonde in front of him went cold. His mouth hung open, his question unanswered. 



"Go away. I'm not crying". He said plainly. 



Jonathan smiled, pulling out the chair at the desk and sitting down. "Im not leaving til you tell me". 



"You're such a fucking child". Dio grumbled, throwing a pillow at Jonathans head. "I'm going back to sleep, sit there all night for all I care". 



~



And so, Jonathan stayed. The clock ticking awake the seemingly never ending hour. He found it odd to be watching Dio sleep, or at least his attempts to but he was determined to get an answer. He looked down at the books and papers that were strewn across his desk. The title read "Early Poems by Whittler, Kent's commentaries 14th edition," and textbooks that had their schools seal branded across the leather. 


"Whats with the law books?" he eventually asked, picking up a copy and flipping through the pages. 

"I wanted to be a lawyer you dunce-" Dio snapped, trying to cover himself with a pillow. 

"This would be much easier if you'd just talk to me". 

"Jonathan please". Dio was practically begging at this point, a please was a rare sight from Dio. "Its been an hour, let me sleep" 

"Talk to me. Then I'll leave".


Dio sighed and sat up from his place in the bed, his hair a disheveled mess. There's no way Jonathan is going to drop it. Since the beginning Jonathan managed to choke out every insecurity Dio had under his belt and he was about to add another to his collection.


"Yes. I'm crying."  

"I didn't sit here for an hour to get a yes from you. Tell me why". 

"What? I'm not telling you why, you're not my therapist" Dio shouted. 

Jonathan snorted, covering his mouth with a hand. 

"If you're going to be an ass you can just leave-". Tears pricked at the corners of his eyes, he pulled the blankets and turned his back to Jonathan again.


A deep frown is set on his features, Jonathan leg bounced his leg in nerves from across the room. He watched Dios shoulders shutter with his breathing, clearly he was used to crying quietly but he knew better. Jonathan stood up, the chair scraping against the floor as he made his way over to the bed. He patted the empty space and placed his knee onto the mattress.


"Move over".


Dio was reluctant but eventually caved and pushed himself closer to the other side, allowing Jonathan to slip under the covers and lay next to him.


"I don't know why you're like this. We've been nothing but caring and we're always met with anger. Father gives you everything you've wanted yet you still insist on fighting us. Why?". 

"M' not sure. That's just the way I am" he muttered. 

"Really? Do you honestly believe you don't deserve a happy life like I do? Haven't you ever thought of settling down with a nice girl and living the rest of your life in peace?" 

"You know Jojo. This isn't your first time, is it? First time seeing someone not follow their dreams? People like me dont have happy fathers, who give them fancy typewriters for their birthday. People like me dont have good friends who they go to parties with. People like me dont have dreams Jonathan".


He frowned. As much as he wanted to say he was wrong, that people like him did have a happy ending. But he knew it wasn't true. Jonathan watched Dio shrug and turn onto his back, rubbing the tears free from his eyes. Jonathan never noticed the pain that set in his eyes, they were the same age but Dio was older with experience. The bags under his eyes told stories of things no child should have to go through.


"You deserve that kind of life just as much as I or anyone else does, even if you aren't able to achieve it. You're no less worthy". 

"So? That changes nothing". 

"Yes it does!" Jonathan shouted. He felt the heat rush to his cheeks. "Just because your father was a shitty person and did terrible things doesn't mean you have to follow his footsteps. You are your own man Dio, act like it".


He opened his mouth to speak but nothing more than a pained noise escaped.


"Dio I'm sorry I didn't mean-" Jonathan watched as the boy in front of him lost any resolve left in him. 

"What?! You really think I can be anything different than my bastard of a father?". 

Jonathan nodded, putting his hand on Dios shoulder. "Of course I do. Like I said, you deserve a good life just as much as I do. You're no less worthy of love". 

Dio couldn't help but laugh, he shook his head, he still couldn't believe it but for now he could act like it. He sniffed, forcing back more tears. "Now will you let me sleep?" 

"I suppose so. It is getting quite late". Reluctantly he pulled himself from the warm blankets, sitting at the edge of the bed and stretching out his back. "Dont stay up to late. Ill take you to the clinic to get your jaw checked. That bruise doesn't look to good".


He felt the bed shift, and he looked back at Dio over his shoulder. He was kneading the blankets between his hands, his mouth wavering and searching for the right words.


"Do you need something?" Jonathan asked, looking back at him over his shoulder. 

"I, Mmm' " Dio hummed, his lips pinched together in a line as he scowled at Jonathan. The silence from Dio was odd, clearly he wanted something but, of course. 

"Do you want me to stay?".


Dio nodded, and rolled his eyes, pulling his long hair over his shoulder and moving over to give him more space. "Just for tonight?"


Without another word, Jonathan got back under the covers and laid back down. Dio gave a rare smile, turning and blowing out the candle at his bedside table and burying himself back under the covers.


"Goodnight" Jonathan said, yawning and sinking into the warmth. 

"G' Night" Dio mumbled.


Dio listened as Jonathans breathing slowed. He looked over to the window, the sun just starting to peek through the clouds. Dios chest tightens as if he cant breath, feeling Jonathans arms wrapped around him in a lazy hug.


"You'll always be my brother. Never forget that".


The bed barely held the two of them, his words to intimate for the cramped space. He kept himself anchored to the present by focusing on their shared breathing. Dio takes a final deep breath before slipping into the black of sleep, when he breathes his nose stings with the sharp scent of Jonathan's cologne and old book.

This is home now. This is everything he'll ever dream of. 

Notes:

Ha im SO sorry you had to read this. I beg yall, please, its been in my folder for 5 months. I needed to get it out. Just let me sleep its 4am-

Chapter 3: VI - The lovers: (RisPro)

Summary:

Someone had to be the responsible one in a gang full of literal man children. Prosciutto took his life way to seriously until someone unexpected showed him that it was alright to let loose once and a while.

 

Song: My Funny Valentine - Frank Sinatra

 

Edited: Misspelling and format (so sorry ^^')

Notes:

(See the end of the chapter for notes.)

Chapter Text

Finally home. 

The day was long and uneventful. It was nothing like the action they got when they fought Bucciarati's gang. Prosciutto dropped the rest of the gang at the movies, they deserved the break after all they had been through. He could use one too but someone around here had to be responsible.

He pulled his hair from its ties, humming with contentment. He could feel the stress melt away as his hair pooled around his shoulders. The loose strands falling in front of his eyes blinding his view. It had been forever since he had his hair down and it felt freeing. There was a certain level of stress he could endure till it was boreline insanity. He was professional and honorable person. But like all people, he didn't want to deal with the shit he got despite all he did. Yet, knowing he’d wake up feeling alright in the morning put him at ease.

At least he wasn't completely alone in the home. He heard Risotto in the kitchen, a faint song playing in the background. Prosciutto's stomach rumbled. He knew Risotto was an avid cooker and begged for him to have made something to eat. His hand hovered over the handle to the kitchen door but paused when the radios volume turned up. He pressed his ear to the door and listened close. From inside the kitchen, it started off as a soft hum that was hard to hear, but grew louder. He wouldn't believe it unless he heard it for himself. Risotto Nero was singing.

.
.
.


"My funny valentine


Sweet comic valentine


You make me smile with my heart."


Prosciutto snorted, putting a hand over his mouth. A small grin flashing across his face as Risotto continued his awkward dance.


"Your looks are laughable


Unphotographable


Yet you're my favourite work of art".


He pushed the door open a crack, peaking into the room. Risotto had an apron tied around his hips that contradicted his gothic outfit. He was dressed down, despite it being a normal work day. He sported a pair of jeans and a band t-shirt that Prosciutto didn't remember the name of. His hips swayed with the music, moving about the kitchen, grabbing spices on the racks that lined the walls. 


"Is your figure less than greek


Is your mouth a little weak


When you open it to speak".


Prosciuttos stomach growled again when he took a deep breath. He shut his eyes, squirming against the door in an attempt to silence the pain. The aromatic smell of chicken wafting through the air made his mind go numb with hunger. 

The radio began to crackle and the air around him went cold, reaching for the door handle again. It felt warm under his grasp, and soft? His eyes shot open, looking over to his hand that was gripping a void of black. He looked up, tired eyes met with Risottos hard glare. He yanked his hand away from Risotto's tshirt, standing straight as adrenaline swelled into the pit of nerves in his stomach.

“Capo! I'm sorry I didn't mean to I-”

“You were spying on me?”. Risotto spoke, his voice filled with indignation.

Prosciutto couldn't breathe. His heart was racing and all he wanted to do was curl up in a ball and pretend he didn't just spy on his boss like a creep. Risotto offered his hand, nodding towards it when the blonde hasn't moved. 

“Are you going to stand there or you going to come and dance?”

“Dance?” Prosciutto snapped.

Riotto only rolled his eyes and grabbed Prosciutto, yanking him into the kitchen . The radio started again, picking up where the song had left off.

"But don't change your hair for me


Not if you care for me


Stay little Valentine,


stay Each day is Valentines day
".


Risotto started off with a low hum, before outright singing along with the man on the radio. The music sun around them, lifting them from the binds of reality. He couldn't count how many times he had stomped on Risottos feet but he didn't seem to mind. Even so they still smiled cheerfully as they danced around the kitchen. It felt odd, twirling around the room and pressed so domestically against his boss. But it certainly wasn't a terrible feeling either. The song soon slowed and they met back at their hands.

They stared at each other, an unfamiliar sparkle set in Risotto's eyes as another song played. The world around him slowed as he watched Risotto stop the dance and move his hand from Prosciutto's hip, tucking a loose strand of hair behind his ear . Before he could stop himself he felt his hand on top of the Capos, pressing it against his lower cheek in a silent plea for him to not let go .

And so, their staring contest continued.

“You should wear your hair down more often,” he said, breaking their silence. “I like it this way”. 

“You do?” Prosciutto asked, mentally kicking himself for sounding so out of breath.

Risotto nodded, smiling and finally pulling himself away. Just because he was gone in his own little world, didn't mean Prosciutto couldn't still feel the tension in the room. He watched Risotto plate the food that had finished cooking on the stove.

Prosciutto gave a mournful smile. It was a good moment while it lasted he supposed. He turned, making his way for the door as he ran his fingers through his hair in an attempt to put it back up. Before he could reach the door, he felt a tug on his shoulder.

“Prosciutto. Wait a minute.”. 

Prosciutto bit the clip in his mouth tightly , turning around and hoping that Risotto wouldn't notice the blush that swept across his face .

“Yes my Cap-” Prosciutto wouldn't have believed it if he didnt see it himself. He felt Risotto's lips brush against his, fervent and affectionately . He wanted to pull away before he lost himself again but his body felt frozen. He allowed his hand to drop from his hair, sinking into the taste of mint from the man above him.

“Prosciutto?” he whispered slowly , prolonging each letter as if to savor their sound. And Prosciutto could have sworn his name never had been spoken so softly.

“Yeah?”. He whispered back, not yet ready to break the closeness between them.

“Come back for another dance some time?”. He said, leaning in once more for a quick kiss.

“Yeah?...Yeah, of course”. Yes seemed to be the only thing Prosciutto could manage to choke out, but it was enough.

Risotto pulled away, still smiling and gave him a pat on the shoulder before returning to his cooking.

Crush wasn't the right word to describe what Prosciutto felt. How many love songs had he heard that said, “he takes my breath away?”. Prosciutto had no clue, but now that line made a lot of sense. His body numbed as he approached his bedroom and it became all to painful as he sunk against the closed door.

He raised a hand to his mouth, the taste of mint lingered.

“This is fine. Of course it's fine” he said to himself.

But deep down even he knew. Everyone knew.

This was most certainly not fine.

Notes:

I feel dangerous for adding song lyrics since its "against the tos". >:) what will I do with this new found power?

(seriously though I worked so hard on this. Im gonna make 2 RisPro fics cause of how long it took. So sorry for the wait!)

Chapter 4: As The World Caves In: (AvPol)

Summary:

Warning: Part 6 spoiler?

Polnareff knew staying with the Italian mafia probably wasn't the best idea. But it wasn't all that bad. Meeting Jotaro again, seeing the world from another set of eyes (literally) was like a breath of fresh air for the Frenchman.
That was until his world came crashing down.

Notes:

Content warning: mentions of death

(See the end of the chapter for more notes.)

Chapter Text

"Polnareff, you haven't matured a bit. You still going on about your sister without thinking about the consequences". 

He woke up in a cold sweat, gripping the sides of the couch tightly in fear. Of course ghosts didn't need sleep, he didn't get tired, hot or cold. Polnareff just existed in the turtle, bored out of his mind.

He fell back onto the couch, resting is head against one of the pillows and groaning. By the looks of it, the sky was still dark and Giorno wasn't awake yet. It took a lot of energy out of him, but he needed a smoke. He stood up, reaching out for the opening at the roof and felt his body turn to fog and the next thing he knew he was standing in the middle of Giorno's office. The tank that the turtle was kept in was spacious, thanks to Giorno. 

He picked up the turtle and a bag hanging on a hook just above the tank and walked out into the garden. Luckily he didn't need to walk through the house to get to his destination and simply passed through the window with the turtle in hand. He sat down grabbing a pack of cigarettes and lighting one. The turtle gave him a glare, or at least that's how he interpreted its blank stare.  


"What?" he grunted, taking a drag and blowing out a dark cloud. 


The turtle gave him another stair before going back inside its shell. He knew if his friends were there they would scold him for smoking. Besides Jotaro of course, he would join him and tell everyone to fuck off. He and Pol smoked together often on their trip to Egypt. While everyone was asleep they would slip away in the dead of night like two teenagers. The air around him felt cold, the clouds above him began to pool together in one long swirl. 


"Jean" a soft voice called out, breaking him from his trance.


He couldn't take his eyes off of the sky, no matter how hard he tried. 


"Jean look at me". 


The air around him was warped and twisted. Dressed in a faded red, overcoat, the scarf flowing against gravity. The scars on his face looked so real he thought he could touch them. Even his jewelry looked lifelike. He heard the metal bracelets jingle as the figures hand reached for his face. 


"You know why im here Jean". 

Polnareff gave him a melancholy smile, leaning into the cold touch. "I know MoMo. Im just not ready". 

Avdol shook his head, leaning in and resting his head on Polnareff's shoulder. "You were never ready. No one is ever ready for the inevitable". 


The world grew quieter, the crickets chirping slowed, the clouds burst out and cleared the sky. 


"Is it nice?" he asked, taking in the smell of the earthy garden one last time. 

"Sometimes" Avdol said, reaching out to take Polnareff's hand. "Its scary at first, but you aren't going alone. Kakyoin is just waiting on the other side for you". 

"And Jotaro? Did we win?". 

"No. He died protecting his daughter". Avdol's eyebrows knit together, frowning and breaking from Polnareff gaze. "He did his best though, and was happy to be with Kakyoin again". 


Polnareff rolled his eyes, trying to focus on Avdol rather than the world crashing around him. 


"I'm surprised he could love anyone" he chuckled. 

"Oh you'd be surprised. He's struggled much in his life. He loves you more than you think he does". 


He nodded, sighing and closing his eyes. The air around him froze, a sudden sharp breeze flowed past him. The serenity of the night washed over him. He choked back tears (if ghosts could even cry), as he stared at the endless night sky. He took a final drag of the cigarette before tossing it onto the ground, stomping out its final embers. He pulled himself from the sky, the familiar dark complexion of his skin, or what once was skin was calming. 


"Stay with me?" he asked, feeling Avdol's arms wrap around his torso in a tight up.

"Mi Amore, of course. I never left". 

Notes:

Note: The original idea i had for the AvPol fic is to long to post into 1 chapter so Im going to be uploading it as a separate fic.

 

I attempted to do something fancy with the html but I dont know coding, even simple shit so I cried and now Im eating icecream like a person in a teen drama. Umm hope you enjoy the angst. - A

Chapter 5: Daturas and Daffodils: (FuGio)

Summary:

Despite all the adventures and all of their losses, Giorno's determination never faded. Yet there were those days, where his resolve ran dry. And on those days there was only one thing to do. Which was cry.

 

Inspired by (celestialfics)

Chapter Text

The summer breeze carried the fresh sea air and fine drops, each a promise of yet another warm summer day. The chilled air moved clouds against the horizon, streaks of golden rays broke through the clouds .

 

Giorno let his eyes rest for a moment, leaning his head onto his desk. Feeling the absence of people and the sweet rumbles in the distance, taking in the aroma of fresh bloomed Daturas . He had just arrived home from a long trip to the states. Visiting family was hard, especially visiting people you've never met and those who dont know youre a mob boss . The world around him went dark, despite the warm summer evening. A few minutes he told himself. Just a few minutes to rest his eyes, trying to justify his actions.

 

"Giorno" ... "Giorno!"

 

He sat up, gasping and looking frantically around the room. His stand manifesting to life and ready to fight. A body stood in front of him blocked the sun that shown through the open window. He was blinded by the light creating a halo around the figure.

 

"Oh its just you Fugo". He let out a sigh of relief, his stand disappearing behind him.

Fugo reached for a cloth in his jacket pocket, handing it to Giorno. "You have a bit of...".

 

Giorno looked down at his desk, putting a hand up to his lips. There was a small puddle of drool on his desk. He could feel the heat growing in his cheeks. By now they must be beyond a rosy attractive.

 

"Fugo! Im so sorry. Please, don't make me dirty your handkerchief over this. lll just...". Giorno pulled tissues out of a box on his desk and frantically wiped down the areas.

"You seem stressed. You should let me finish these". He paused, looking down at Giorno who was either tired from the jet lag or stressed beyond belief. Could be both if he was being honest with himself.

"You know...your desk reminds me a lot of Abbacchio".

 

Fugo picked up the papers that were strewn across Giorno's desk. He usually kept things neat and clean, but seeing his work space in such aray made his partner worry.

 

Giorno gasped, already standing up and slipping off his suit coat. "How dare you say something like that".

 

Fugo laughed, leaning over the desk and pecking a kiss onto Giorno's cheek.

And then there was nothing more to it, yet there didn't seem a need to. Despite his attempts at keeping collected, like always Fugo saw through it. Because his stress, whatever was getting him down today. Was enough for Fugo to call off the days meeting. And (on Fugo's order), to go out into the courtyard for a break. Calmly he explained that he wouldn't allow his capo to continue his work without being in the right mindset . So he left. On orders, and on time.

He took a deep breath of fresh air. The wooden gate was rough under his touch, the ivy cascaded over the fence and grew bright emerald tendrils in every direction . The stone path, once elegant was now cracked and weeds sprouted between every corner. The unmanicured lawn was more grass than anything now, and covered all the different lawn decorations . Clusters of daffodils poked their golden heads amidst the weed and there were buncles of grapefruit primroses .

Giorno sat down on a bench, crossing his legs and admiring the garden. He picked up a few pebbles, turning them into various types of butterflies. The noise around him faded like he was stuck between realities until his vision was broken by something moving out of the corner of his eye . He looked over towards the movement, watching Fugo open the gate with his stand and carrying two glasses of tea .

Fugo smiled, sitting down next to him and handing him a glass. Giorno wasn't sure he deserved the attention or the care but was grateful for it regardless.

 

"Thank you", he said softly and took a sip his drink. "I appreciate you checking in on me".

"Don't thank me for something like that." Fugo said, watching the butterflies dance around the yard.

 

Giorno leaned over, resting his head on Fugos shoulder and letting out a long heavy sigh. It wasn't easy being a teen, never mind being the don of the mafia. He had large shoes to fill and he wasn't close to fitting in them. But there was Fugo. A wonderful subordinate and an even better partner. Logically he knew Fugo was there for him and if he went to Trish, or Mista they would comfort them. Hell he could even talk to a turtle if he wanted to. But It was futile to argue that he wasn't stressed.

 

"You okay Giorno?" Fugo asked, his hand already in Gio's hair and petting him softly .

 

He nodded, sniffing and biting back a whine. He could pull himself together, he always could. Yet, tears come in such generous streams as long as Fugo kept whispering sweet nothings to him. It felt good to be on the high, no matter how temporary it may be.

Fugos eyebrows knit together, wrapping his arms around his partners shoulders and squeezed him tightly . Despite the heaviness in his stomach, it fluttered at the feeling of his body pressed against his. Giorno sunk into the warmth of his side, appreciative of the simple but kind gesture. The tears transformed to something brighter all the faster in the company in someone trustworthy .

They stayed like this for a long while, til the sun started to dip beneath the horizon and the air turned crisp. Fugo pulled away despite Giorno's retaliation.

 

"Lets go get dinner. Just you and me?" he requested, standing up and holding out his hand.

 

Gio nodded. Taking Fugos hand and wiping his eyes with the back of his hand.

 

"And some strawberry cake?"

Fugo snickered, leading Giorno out of the courtyard. "Of course" He said, leaning in and giving him a kiss.

 

The world fell away, it was slow and soft yet comforting in ways that words could never be. But that was the blessing of having Fugo around.

Chapter 6: A kiss to dream on: (Josuyasu)

Summary:

Josuke is afraid of the dark and hes lucky to have his bro with him.

My boys get fluffy. Thats literally the entire fic.

Notes:

(See the end of the chapter for notes.)

Chapter Text

It was yet another lazy Sunday in the Higaskita household. What was a usually loud and lively home was now quiet and calm. Tomoko was on a weekend trip for the holidays with her students and left the home empty for Josuke. And if he was a good son he would have kept the house clean but he wasn't. It was late at night, Josuke was sat in front of the tv in the living room with a blanket wrapped around his shoulders. The tvs light blue glow highlighted the living room.


"Come on-" he grumbled. Aggressively pressing the buttons on his controller.


As he was about to jump into a new section the power winked out and the tvs glow faded. He sat there, eyes wide in the dark and looked towards the window. The blizzard the news promised earlier that week roared outside his home. He patted the floor around him, searching for something among the blankets and pillows piled around him . He found what he was searching for and turned on the phone, the familiar blue hue lighting up his face. He tapped in his pin, opening a message.

 



Okayasu?

Okayasu!!!!

Whats up bro?

Dude the power went out

Really? Its not out at my place.

Fuck. Could I come over? The heats offt

Ofc bro
Ill leave the light on for you

Thanks. Be there in 10.



Josuke pulled himself out of his nest of blankets and set out to going to Okayasus place. It was going to be a dangerous journey, despite him only having to walk a few houses down. The snow made it hard to see and there was a chance he could get stuck and buried in a foot of snow.

He zipped up his coat and checked his pockets for his keys and phone, everything was in order for him to leave. He grabbed a flashlight just in case and wiped away the fog on the window. In the distance was a faint light in the direction of Okayasus home. It was better now than never he though, taking a deep breath and racing out the door.


Whatever it takes to get there, he'd go through it all.


~


The wind and snow hit his face like tiny razors as he was pulled inside the home. Josuke was quick to pull off his clothing, shivering violently and rubbing the snow out of his hair.



"Josuke! I should have shovel the walkway. Sorry bro"

"Sss-okay. Okay man, c-cold. So cold".

"No one else is at your house right? Just you?" Okayasu handed him a towel and a hairbrush, helping his friend out of the layers and dropping clothing as they walked. 

Josuke nodded, giving a content sigh when he noticed the fireplace burning brightly . Okayasu pushed Josuke to the floor in front of the fireplace and handed him a blanket.

"Sit here. I'm going to go get us somethin' to eat"


Josuke nodded mindlessly , melting into the warmth of the fire. Okayasus father was asleep on a couch in the far end of the room, murmuring happily to himself. The old home had gotten more lively over the years. Josuke didn't think Okayasu had any interior design taste but he did pretty well at decorating the home . It was odd, seeing his friend in such a domestic setting but it was a nice change. Josuke was half asleep by the time Okayasu returned with a tray of food.

"What you got Bro?" he asked, looking up at him and smiled at Okayasu with tired eyes.


Okayasu took a seat next to Josuke and put the tray down onto the ledge of the fireplace. There were two neatly cut sandwiches, one with and one without crust and two steaming hot chocolates with marshmallows . Josuke felt his mouth watering at the sight of food that was something other than ramen and takeout. Okayasu handed him a sandwich and leaned back into the pile of blankets and pillows.


"Bro?" Josuke asked, staring down at his plate.

"Yeah bro?"

"You cut the crust off" Josuke whispered, taking a bite and humming.

How long had it been since he had a simple ham and cheese? Okayasu scoffed, sitting up on his elbows and giving Josuke a glare.

"Of course I did. You hate crust"

Josuke snorted, trying to keep in the hot chocolate. He swallowed hard, chocking and patting his chest.

"Y-eah bro. But I just cant believe you remembered".


Just as Okayasu was about to reach for his food, the lights behind them flickered out sizzling as they died. The light from the fire burned to low to see anything further than the couch behind them. They stayed quiet, the wind outside howling and tapping tree branches againsts the windows . Okayasu felt Josuke's breath at his back, low and rapid as the wind got louder.


"Shit- Let me go get some candles and the flashlights. Think we might have a lamp somewhere t-"

As much as he wanted to move to find more sources of light, he couldn't move. He squinted, looking down at his arm and noticed what kept him bound to the ground. Josuke was wrapped around his arm, eyes wide and looking off into the void of the room. He felt a chill rip through his body and he didn't know if it was from the look on Josuke's face or the cold.


"What is it Josuke? Is there a stand user nearby?" Okayasu whispered.

"No" Josuke responded, keeping his voice low and pressing closer to Okayasus side. " Just dark-".


As Josuke pushed closer, Okayasu pulled away. The two of them fighting to chose the distance between them.


"Wait. Are you telling me you're afraid of the dark?".


Josuke felt his heart catch in his throat, smacking Okayasus side and finally breaking away from him.

"No I'm fucking not you asshole- Im 17, I'm not afraid of shit".


Okayasu was about to make another jab at Josuke's pride when the wind picked up once more, causing the trees outside to scrape against the windows . And as quickly as he left, Josuke was back on Okayasus arm, shaking and staring back into the black abyss.


"Okay. Maybe a little scared" he mumbled, gripping tighter to his friends arm.


Okayasu felt his heart shatter. Of course it was all fun to them, they knew that their "arguments" were nothing more than playful banter. Sure he shoved Josuke into a locker one to many times, and maybe throwing that wooden block at his head was a pretty bad idea .

But he apologised for all of that and would never willingly hurt his best friend. But this? Okayasu forced himself up and Josuke along with him. He was going to be damned before he let his best friend be tortured by something he could fix.


~


"Alright. Is that better?".



Josuke looked into the room, finally bright with all the burning candles and flashlights . Okayasu had dragged his mattress from his bedroom and into the living room for them to sleep on. He really didn't know what he would do without Okayasu. Even though he knew the candles would burn out, and the flashlight batteries eventually will die he felt a sense of peace .


"You spoil the hell out of me". He said, shaking his head and laying down on the nest of pillows and blankets.


Okayasu fell back onto the mattress next to him, staring up at the ceiling. They laid there in silence, nothing but the cracking fire and the howling wind to break their serenity . Josuke can still remember how his nights used to be. It was lonely and sure he had his mother but it wasn't the same.

It was rare for him to have someone stay the night, and when he did they usually aren't close friends. Not like how he was with Okayasu. It was nice to wake up beside him, no sense of reality of urgency to go anywhere even on a school day.


"You good bro?" Okayasu said. His voice low and coarse with impending sleep.

"Yeah. M' good".


Okayasu was grounding, a sense of reality and was like a bright light in his otherwise dull world. Josuke could feel himself treading dangerously towards sleep. He felt Okayasu shift, stretching out his limbs and yawning. He takes the opportunity to roll over meeting Okayasu in the middle and staring at him. His brown eyes had a golden sheen to them thanks to the fireplace. It was good to relax, a warm body next to him to remind him he was still human.


"Tired?" Okayasu murmurs.


Josuke could only give a hummed response. It was the first time that evening that his mind had been quiet enough to let him rest. All Josuke ever wanted to do was lay in the tranquil peace and never move beyond that. He could feel Okayasu chuckel, his hands moving to Josuke's side and pulling him into a hug. Like his body moved on its own, Josuke felt his arms wrap around and Okayasus side. Letting out a content sigh as he melted into the warmth of the friend at his side.


"Sleep then dumbass".


Okayasu pulled a blanket over them, tucking the cloth at their sides to shelter from any impending cold . He leaned in, planting a quick kiss on Josuke's nose and wiggling deeper into the covers.


"Ill be here, m' always here".

Notes:

HTML made me its bitch after trying to do this one for the entire weekend - A

Chapter 7: My baby in the limelight: (DiaDoppi)

Summary:

Diavolo of course didn't expect Cioccolata to throw a good party. But even he couldn't ruin is New Years plans.

Chapter Text

Inconsequent polite conversation, canapes, and shitty wine.

That's all that parties were to Diavolo but it wasn't like he could skip this. New years eve was nothing more than an inconvenience and a waste of time. Then again, he had the chance to snoop around at what that freak Ciocolata was doing. He would attempt to check on Secco but he wanted to stay far away from that bastard. No matter how much Ciocolata swore that he was clean Diavolo wasn't going to risk getting rabies.

He walked into the main room of the home, putting his drink down and eyeing the room. Of course not everyone in Passione was there. Sure this was Ciocolata party but it was his gang and he was the boss, he did what he damn well pleased. Yet despite his arguing they still invited the assassin team.

Diavolo knew that they had their families. And sure Risotto bringing his children was the worst fucking idea. But it wasn't like he could complain about it.



"Heya Boss!". 



Diavolo felt a tug at his jacket sleeve and jerked back. Whoever thought it was a good idea to pull on a jacket that cost more than their life was a fucking idiot.

He looked down, eye to eye with a familiar cadaver and groaned.



"Oh- it's you". He grunted, taking a long sip of his drink.

"We've been waiting for you!" Secco sang, dancing in place. "By the window and then you go and pop up in the middle of party in that suit?! You got a really fancy suit. You've done something with your air? Nah maybe its eyes, oh oh and we bought-"



Diavolo could only stare in astonishment as the boy babbled on and on about whatever came to mind. It seemed that he was more interested in distracting him than having a conversation. Whatever Secco was trying to distract him from must have been important. He noticed, out of the corner of his eye that someone else was walking on eggshells trying to avoid the crowd. He pushed away from Secco mid sentence, ignoring the shouting that followed.

Vinegar Doppio. Dressed up in his signature pink sweater and bright pink hair tied up in a braid held together with a fancy pin. As he got closer, he noticed the sweater had embroidered white sparkly snowflakes at the hems. Merely nodding along and making conversation was making him go inane. And if he continued any longer then he would go insane.

Doppio, had tucked himself into the corner and stood far away from the group as possible. Diavolo was already wondering how much of an early leave would insult Ciocolata. But he doubted the doctor would actually care.

 

"To loud for you dear?".

 


Doppio turned, he was slow and clearly wasn't scared or caught off guard by his Bosses presence.

"No. Just a bit tired Boss.". Doppio smiled, leaning against the wall and pushing a loose strand of hair behind his ear. "Your suit looks nice boss. Is it new?"

"Thank you dear but no. I have had this suit for quite some time. I just don't wear it that often. Though It might be too expensive to wear in a place like this".

 

Doppio laughed, the smile drawn on his face grew a bit brighter in a way that Diavolo regularly craved. It was an odd warm feeling when he was with his subordinate, but he couldn't help himself. Diavolo opened the speak again but he felt a tug at his coat again. He groaned and turned. He looked down at Secco again who, before he could even speak was pulling the Boss off into the crowd.

He reached out for Doppio but the boy surprisingly had a strong grip.


Inconsequent polite conversation, canapes, and shitty wine.

Tonight couldn't get any worse.

 


~

 

 

Diavolo shoved the balcony doors open and took in a long breath of air. That didn't stop him from boiling over with anger. Right now he wanted to be far away from the party as possible.

For one they dragged him to play some stupid games that he lost, never mind that he lost to Peshi of all people.

Second, they pulled him away from Doppio and ruined his plans for the night. He started pacing back and forth and cursing to himself and throwing his hands down.

 

"How is this fucking fair?!"

 


The air was so chilled that it hurt to breathe. He stood there, breathing heavily as the snow started to fall.

"Bossu?".

 

He looked towards the noise. His eyes trailing down to Doppio who was sitting on the ground and pressed against the side of the house. Doppio sniffed, rubbing his eyes with his sleeve. Diavolo wasn't by any means skilled with makeup. But even he could tell by the dark streaks down Doppios face that he had been crying.

 

"Doppio? Dear why are you crying?". Diavolo frowned, pulling out the gold handkerchief and handing it Doppio.

 

He took it gratefully , smiling weakly at his Boss and grabbing the hand that offered to help him up.

 

"Its alright Boss. Just some drama with the group. Im just ...tired".

 

Diavolo could hear the whine that threatened to burst from the back of Doppios voice. He felt Doppio close next to his side as he rested against the railing. Behind them the group was pouring drinks and getting ready for the new year. The wind picked up, and he might have underestimated the cold that evening. He felt Doppio press closer to his side, shivering and letting out a shaky breath.

 

"Do you want my jacket?" he offered, his voice low.

 

Doppio looked up at him, eyes wide and bright with something he couldn't quite describe. "I couldn't do that. Its-"

 

He didn't have enough time to argue before Diavolo had already slipped the jacket off, draping it over Doppios shoulders . It was warm and soft against his skin and had the familiar smell of smoke and fine wine. Doppio sighed, pulling the much to large jacket closer and buried himself into the collar.

 

"Thank you boss" he whispered.

 

There was an absolute stillness between them, despite the shouting coming from inside the home. It was an eerie sort of tranquility and instead of his nerves soothing, he felt his sense heightened. He felt like prey, even though there were no enemies - no predators around.

 

"Doppio?" he asked softly , not wanting to break the quiet between them. "It's almost midnight, you should probably head inside if you don't want to miss the countdown".

 

Doppio gave him an odd look, again he couldn't figure out what the boy was thinking but decided to shrug it off.

 

"No. I think Im fine right here Boss" Doppio said, leaning in and resting his head on his shoulder. Diavolo looked down at his to expensive, probably stolen, watch. It was 20 seconds to midnight and the group would be starting their countdown soon.

 

"You'd rather?" Diavolo trailed off, his eyes catching against Doppios gaze. "You really ?".

 

"Mhm. If..that's alright with you sir?" he asked, barely leaving inches between them.

 

Diavolo honestly wouldn't have been able to tell anyone what it felt like. Looking over to Doppio with a certain anticipation, he felt himself grip the railing a bit to hard, his knuckles turning white with nerves . Behind them, and all around in the distant the group started the countdown and got louder as the seconds went by. Just as the world shouted "happy new years". And in a burst of energy he pulled the taller man in, standing on his toes to reach up he put his arms around his bosses neck, kissing him with a gentle press.

And the next thing Diavolo knew, the soft chase kiss melted. He hardly gave Doppio a moment to react. Pressing his tongue to the seam of his lips, tasting the cheap shardine and strawberries. You'd think that after all the time they spent together that Diavolo would know Doppios lips like the back of his hand . But he could never imagined it being like this.

Doppio pulled back, his breath hot against Diavolos lips.

 

"You're quite skilled at that", Diavolo managed, a bit embarrassed that he sounded so out of breath.

 

"Not to bad yourself Boss".

 

With every kiss he could nearly feel the slight burn of the wine as it rolled off his tongue and seeped down his throat with every push of his tongue . The moment would have been perfect if his life was better. From behind them he heard snickering and cringed. He looked towards the noise and noticed the heavy curtains were pulled back. The group was all standing at the window, smiling and chatting among themselves. Secco was waving to him from between Cioccolata's legs, giving Diavolo a toothy smile.

 

"Hiii boss!!" he shouted, muffled behind the glass.

"Ill never be able to show my face around here again". He groaned, feeling Doppio chuckle beneath him and he looked away from the group.

"Well, it was worth it?...wasnt it?" Doppio asked, taking Diavolos hand and giving it a nervous squeeze.

"Of course. The tradition states the more kisses you get, the better year you have isn't it?"

"I guess you're right", Diavolo mused. He felt a grin tug at the corners of his mouth. "Well. Want to find out?"

 

Doppio grinned and he leaned it, having to steal another kiss from him, and then another, and maybe another. And despite the screaming coming from inside the home, he felt at peace.

Maybe coming to the part wasn't such a bad idea after all.

Chapter 8: Wanna be a cowboy baby: (GyJo)

Summary:

Gyro finally convinced Johnny to go out for drinks. Just once-

Notes:

content warning: drinking

(See the end of the chapter for more notes.)

Chapter Text

 

 

"One drink. Johnny, Im beggin you" Gyro cired, about to get on his hands and knees to beg.

Johnny groaned, slamming his fist down onto the arm of his wheelchair. "If you shut up i'll go"

"Really?!" Gyro sang, giving him a toothy smile.

Johnny cringed before forcing himself to nod. He already knew agreeing was a mistake.

 


~

 

Johnny rested his hand on the rough red paintwork that coated the door and gave it a push. He felt splinters cut into his gloved palm, dried paint crumbled to the floor in flakes. The wooden boards moaned under his wheels as he made his way inside. Laughter overpowered the music, conversations swirled with the thick clouds of smoke. The smell of cigars and whiskey brewed in the air, black plumes puffing at the edges of the bar. Along the wall was every hue of amber liquid in fancy glass bottles. Johnny was at eye level to the bar and raised his hand, waving it to get the bar keeps attention.

 

He couldn't exactly sit at the bar, but at least he had his drink and wasn't bothered by anyone. Behind him, the wooden boards creaked again and the crowd cheered with a familiar voice that picked up .

Gyro. Johnny turned his wheels and faced towards the door, looking to Gyro who had his arm around a random guy that offered him a drink.


"Johnny!! Hows it goin'? Haven't seen you all day!" Gyro shouted from across the room.


Johnny was amazed he could even hear Gyro from all the noise but waved him over anyways. As he got closer Johnny could hear Gyros spurs jingle against his steps. He hopped onto one of the bar stoles, and held out his hand to offer Johnny a seat.


"Im fine down here. But thank you".

"Suit yourself man" Gyro shrugged, taking a sip of his beer.


The longer the night went on, the more drinks that were poured , the further Gyro and Johnny grew apart. Gyro seemed to be a regular as many of the men there knew his name and seemed rather friendly. Some of them to friendly, allowing Gyro to take a seat on their lap and prod at his sides. He thought he knew everything there was to know about Gyro Zeppeli and assumed they were best friends maybe even more than that . But seeing Gyro so close to others like he was with him made Johnny's stomach tie up in knots.

He didn't know what to do besides go home. Eventually , he finished his second drink of the night and paid his due. Johnny brushed himself off and unlatched the breaks on his wheelchair, giving the barkeep a quick salute before rolling off . He watched Gyro being dragged off to an end of the saloon and rolled his eyes. Gyro could barely stand and was surprised he was still conscious. Sadly he knew he would have to deal with Gyros hangover like he always did.

But that's what friends were for, right? Just as he was about to reach for the door he heard Gyro shout something from out of the crowd.


"Johhnnyy!! Boy where you at! Get your ass over here and help me!"


Johnny whined, feeling the eyes of the other men burning at his back. He turned around, the crowd parted at the sides to show off Gyro sitting in front of a Piano. He gave Johnny his signature toothy smile and waved him over, his legs bouncing happily at his seat.


"Come on man! Stay for one song! Pllleeaase?".


As much as Johnny wanted to leave he was afraid of what they'd do if he said no. So, reluctantly he turned around and wheeled himself over to Gyro who reeked of alcohol and cigarettes .


"Right. What do you want me to do?" Johnny sighed, locking his wheels once more.


"You gonna-" Gyro stood up, taking Johnny's arm and putting it around his shoulders, lifting him up and placing him on top of the piano . "You gonna sit up there and watch me play". He slammed a set of keys for added emphasis.


Blushing would have been no problem for Johnny, but what he did was go as red as a beetroot and radiate heat like a hot pan. Of course he was embarrassed by having to be carried . He could have done it himself, sort of. But that didn't matter because he didn't have the time to yell at Gyro, as he was to busy chatting with the others.


"Alright! I won't waste any more your time!" he shouted, smashing the keys again. "Time to get this party started!".


And to Johnny's horror, Gyro could actually play. Johnny watched as Gyros hands danced against the old yellowed keys, transfixed on the way his head bounced with the music . The men around them applauded, lifting up their drinks and drunkenly dancing with the group. He silently wished he could dance with them, or with Gyro to be exact but was content with watching him play. He was surprisingly experienced, the keys like an expedition of his hands as the tune picked up. Finally though, after many of the patrons became to drunk or exhausted to dance. 

 

As the last beautiful note was hit with a cheer from the crowd. Gyro stood up from his seat and laughed, pulling Johnny down from the piano and gave him a deep kiss of excitement. Johnny was completely unprepared to be picked up at his hips and spun around, lips locked with Gyros.


It wasn't like they had kissed before. Hell they were two men on the road together and alone. And Johnny had to admit that Gyro was pretty attractive. It might have been because he hadn't seen a woman in months but something about Gyro was different.

 

But this certainly was different.

They were never publicly open about their bedroom affairs. No one asked so he didn't tell. Johnny assumed that public displays of affection were off limits. It could be the booze talking but Johnny quite liked the few eyes that stared at the pair. Gyros lips were warm and tasted heavy of booze and lemons. When they broke apart for air, Johnny was placed back on the ground. Gyro held him up by the hip, pressed tightly against his side as he held up his hand.


"Next rounds on me!" he shouted, the crowd cheering back at him.

"You gonna stay?" Gyro asked and looked down at Johnny. His face red and pupils dark with excitement.

And by god how could he say no to that face? Johnny laughed, pushing a strand of his messy hair back under his hat and nodded.

"Alright. One more round cant hurt nobody."

Notes:

Yall wanna know how Gyro plays the piano? Look up the Red Dead Piano music (Walking For Dat Cake and Maple rag were the inspiration to his playing)

Gyro went full cowboy for his mans. Cause we all know Johnny's got that cake.

Chapter 9: Traitors And a Sunflower: (Risotto x Reader)

Summary:

Risotto, like every capo in the area was working night and day. With the recent death of PolPo and rumors about the bosses daughter everyone was on edge.

But even the strongest of people needed a break.

 

(Inspired by a post from mudagiogio on Tumblr)

Notes:

(See the end of the chapter for notes.)

Chapter Text

The alarm was so fucking rude, to put it plainly . Y/N was in the middle of one of the most wonderful dreams they had. After the initial morning fatigue passed, their frustrations of the clock beside them with a long low breath .

There was a reason for an alarm this time, they felt it through the house. At a terrible rude and early time, they had something important to attend to.

The home was irrationally warm for an Italian winter. Y/N pulled the comforter off their bed and staggered down the hallway. Mornings with the La Squadra wasn't the best part of any day. There was no plate of warm fluffy pancakes, no good morning kisses or fresh glasses of milk. Besides the box of cereal and day old milk in the fridge there wasn't much to make. That was until Risotto was up, and was free to go shopping. Then they got their fresh pancakes. Lights all down the hall turned on ceremoniously like every day.

And right on schedule the La Squadra poured out of their rooms. Peshi and Prosciutto trudged out of their rooms first. Peshis bangs draped in front of his face and Prosciutto looked like he just dragged himself out of a grave. Melone happily asleep in Giaccio arms. Even Sorbet and Gelato graced the group with their presence. Despite being tired they were still locked hand in hand, not waiting a moment apart.

But something was off today. The last door on the left, right in front of Y/N's room remained closed.

It wasn't a secret that Risotto was stressed over work. Despite the constant pleading from the squad he refused to leave his room. Y/N wished everyone a good morning as they passed by. (Even if most of them wouldn't remember when they fully awoke). As much as Y/N wanted to get dressed and out of the house, something was pulling them back down the hall. Y/N's body seemed to move on its own.

"Risotto?" Y/N whispered. Giving the door a soft knock.

It was a while before a response of a simple whine of "Come in" came from the other side.

They were concerned of course, but the dimly lit room just made everything worse. The bedroom was cluttered with clothing and paperwork. It was an absolute mess. It was out of character for Risotto to leave his room so messy. But the void of black clothing on the floor and overflowing wastebasket said otherwise .


"Risotto-" Y/N said, frowning and walking up to him.



Risotto wasn't anything close to being a perfect partner. But he tried his very best to take care of his family. Today he took that as being stuck in his room, slumped over his desk and nodding off as he struggled with a paper. The paper was littering the entire surface of the desk- some filled out, some untouched and others half completed as if he gave up half way .

There wasn't any space for him to even think in his room. Y/N sighed, shaking their head and putting their hand on Risottos back.


"Ris, you need to sleep"


Risotto shook his head, his long ruffled hair falling over into his eyes. Y/N, despite Risottos pleas had started to neatly pick up the states of papers. Making sure they were still organized while he watched with a hollow stare.

After a moment of cleaning, Y/N put them at the uppermost corner of the rest and sat down next to him. Y/N reached forwards, tucking a loose strand of hair behind his ear and smiling. Risottos eyes were dark, almost as dark as the circles forming under his eyes.

The man needed some coffee or a good long nap. But everyone knew he'd refuse both options. Y/N wordlessly raised their hands to rest upon either side of his cheeks, cradling his face in an unfamiliar warmth . His eyes, half lidded struggled to stay open as he leaned into the touch.


"Cant sleep-" he groaned, pulling their hands down and holding them gently .

"Come on. Its been two days. Melone and I will be out shopping today. Ill have Formaggio and Peshi finish up"


Risotto nodded, giving in and melting into Y/N's lap with a small sigh. The warmth against his face is addicting and a nap sounds nice right about now. Y/N placed a hand into his hair, stroking the tangles out of his long white locks. One hand on his back and the other in his hand, Risotto questioned when was the last time he was taken care of. But he doesn't mind.


Its moments like these that reminds him how much hes loved. And how much he loves Y/N, absolutely and unconditionally.

Notes:

A/N: This is written by a special someone for a special someone. You know who you are doll, we love you.

Chapter 10: Heart of glass (Josuyasu)

Notes:

(See the end of the chapter for notes.)

Chapter Text

The evening weather was ominously pleasant as Josuke made his way back into the home. It was warm, despite the heavy clouds above him. The home smelled heavy of bleach and lemons. It was important to clean the house at least once a week - restarting his life with a fresh slate for the week. Okuyasu was better at the heavy things but Josuke was determined to get the cleaning done before dinner. Putting it down and tieing up his hair into a bun. 

The radio on the counter buzzed to life, singing the introduction and the announcer reading off the date and time before wishing everyone a good day. A jaunting melody started. The cheap radio sputtering out whatever song popular pop song they decided to throw on. He couldn't help but dance to the music, his hips swaying as he cleaned the floors. 

Before he set down the mop he paused - hearing keys jingled behind the door. In his youth he'd be caught dead without his hair up in his usual pomp. But with Okayasu around he didn't feel the need to show off. He knew that his husband respected the things he endured in life. Okayasu dropped his keys into the bowl by the door, slipped off his coat and kicked off his shoes. He took one breath of air and grimaced, already submitting to his fate. 

"Forgot it was Friday?" Josuke asked, padding into the entryway and giving Okayaus a quick welcome home kiss. Okuyasu nodded, flipping through the mail that he had picked up from their mailbox outside. Most of it was junk, nothing out of the ordinary. They weren't especially exciting people to write to. 

Josuke tossed the letters into a pile on the counter. He usually joked that they were being jailed till their death sentence to the shredder but he didnt think Okayasu was up to laughing today. 

"Do you want me to make dinner? You seem tired...". 

"A lot happened today" he said, taking off his shoes before following Josuke into the kitchen. 

"Jotaro planed to move back to Florida in a few months. Left lots for me to do". 

"Well if that's the case then take the next few days for a break. Im sure the foundation can go a few days without their number one stand user". 

Okayasu laughedplayfully slapping at Josuke's shoulder. 

"As if! They would be nowhere without me." 

Josuke laughed heartily. His laugh was one of the things that Okayasu loved. It was in his eyes, the tears that pricked at the corner and the soft tension in his voice was like gold. gentle arms wrapped around his frame. The radio sputtered again, the connection whirring as the next song played. Despite the bags under his eyes, Okayasus face lit up at the song. A smile so contagious Josuke couldnt help but grin. It was a song, their song. 

Josuke took off his gloves, holding out his hand to Okayasu who happily took it. They did their best, trying to avoid the cleaning supplies littered all over the ground as they danced. Josuke couldnt remember how many times Okayasu stepped on his feet but to this song, it felt as natural as breathing. 

"You remember this song?" Okayasu asked, pushing a loose strand of hair behind Josukes ear

"Its the song we had our first dance to. How could I forget?"

"I dont know man,,you're pretty forgetful" 

Josuke laughed, playfully slapping Okayasus arm. "Hey! Ive got a great memory!" 

They laughed in unison, fumbling over each other and sharing a moment of bliss. Josuke closed his eyes, resting his head on his partners shoulder. This was perfect. Strong, elegance, wealth. None of it mattered here. All that mattered was the warmth of his husbands arms around his side, and the promise of tomorrow. 

Notes:

I hate editing. I like my fics like my meat - fucking RAW

(wrote this while listing to miley cyrus - heart of glass)