#like i think giorno can be pretty funny and expressive but people clearly think he’s never shown an emotion in his life

[their-name-is-morgan]

Hiya!! Glad to see you again :') might I request headcanons/a short fic about going to the aquarium with Bruno please? Thank youuuu!

Hey! Missed you too <3 and of course you can! Writing this was super fun and it turned out... not too long and not too short; I hope you enjoy it!

Day off (Bruno x Reader)

Your day begins with a loud noise followed by a scream coming from downstairs; you sleepily take a glance at the digital clock on your bedside table: it’s currently eight in the morning –almost nine- and your husband, Bruno Bucciarati, is still sound asleep on the other side of your shared bed.

The noise doesn’t stop, but you’re used to it by now. It’s Saturday after all, and that means Narancia’s studying session starts early in the morning. Fugo’s scolding suggests that he must not be in a good mood to study today.

And besides, you were hoping to wake up earlier than usual because today you have something planned for you and your lovely husband: a trip to the aquarium.

Bruno rarely takes a break from work, if we can call it that, so you wanted to take the opportunity to do something fun with him instead of lounging in the enormous Passione mansion from morning to night. Abbacchio will take care of everything while you’re out to pet the dolphins and play with the penguins, right?

Usually Giorno would do it but today he’s too busy to even spend some time with the others, being the Don is not easy, especially at his age.

After a few minutes of contemplation you decide that it’s time to get up and go; you gently shake Bruno’s shoulder until he turns around and your eyes meet with his half lidded blue ones.

“What time is it...?” he asks, still clearly half asleep.

“Well, good morning to you. It’s almost nine.”

He lets out a yawn and shifts into a sitting position, you copy his actions and you share a slow, lazy kiss before finally getting out of bed and rummaging in your wardrobes to pick an outfit for the day.

Bruno wants to wear something elegant but you shake your head in disappointment when he throws the pricey button-down shirt and designer pants on the bed. It’s supposed to be a fun day and you’re probably going to get your clothes all wet during a show, so it’s better to wear comfortable things for once.

He finally settles on a white polo shirt and a pair of jeans while you’re still not sure if you should wear a shirt or a sweater. After you’re both done picking your outfits you open the window to let in some fresh air, quickly make the bed together and walk downstairs to have a light breakfast with the rest of the gang.

“Buongiorno!” you greet everyone once you reach the living room.

“Hey (Y/N), hey Bruno!” Narancia excitedly waves at you from the table before getting smacked on the head with a maths book;

“Don’t get distracted!” Fugo scolds him once again and resumes with his explanation of whatever they’re focusing on today. It sounds like equations.

Abbacchio is sitting on the sofa, he would most likely be listening to music if it wasn’t for the fact that Mista is bothering him with one of his arguments; this time he seems to be wondering why cats and dogs age faster than human beings.

“What do you want for breakfast?” your husband asks you once you’re in the kitchen, away from all the noise.

Meanwhile you set everything on the table – spoons, sugar, different kinds of tea bags- and pour some water in your two mugs.

“I’m having a tea and some butter cookies, I’m going to make some for you too. It’s your day off, just sit down and let me handle everything!”

He lets out a chuckle at how kind you are to him. It’s also pretty funny to watch you prepare your breakfast with a concentrated expression.

“Okay, if you insist.”

“Hey, what are you laughing about?” you ask him turning around.

“Nothing! I wasn’t laughing.” He covers his mouth with his hand and you smile at him;

“Yeah, sure.”

It’s nice to spend some time alone with Bruno. You’re both always running around, going on missions and sometimes you don’t see each other for days, everyone takes their job seriously so unless you’re done with it you don’t hang out that much.

That’s why you’re determined to make the most out of today!

Once you’re both done with your light breakfast you finally walk outside after saying goodbye to everyone, and get in Bruno’s shiny black car, the one he uses for special occasions only, so basically whenever he goes somewhere with you.

The weather is chilly so while you wait for it to warm up you snuggle into your jacket.

“So, what’s the first thing you want to do once we get there?” Bruno asks you after a while. He’s already driving, it won’t take you long to arrive.

“Hmm, how about I tell you when we’re there?”

“It better not be something weird,” he jokingly warns you,  “the last time I visited the aquarium was when I was still a kid, so I don’t know anything about the new activities.”

“It’s not! I swear. I just want it to be a surprise.”

The truth is that you want to try as many things as possible with him: first thing first there’s going to be a dolphin show at around eleven, and you wouldn’t miss it for the world. After that you can’t wait to touch the sharks, stingrays and other sea creatures, and you’re aware of how much Bruno loves animals, so you know he’s going to enjoy it.

You obviously want to see all the fish that they keep there, even if it’s going to take a lot of time since the aquarium is pretty big, and then, at the end of the day, you want to try and take a dive too. In all honesty the thought of it makes you shiver, but it’s going to be exciting with your husband there.

Bruno watches you with the corner of his eye as you smile, thinking to yourself for the whole trip.

 It’s not the busiest day –that would probably be Sunday-, but there are quite a lot of people intending to spend a fun day at the aquarium; you and Bruno hold hands like the sweet couple you are as you enter.

“Wow, this place is really big!” you comment looking around.

The ceiling is very high and as opposed to it you feel extremely small . Bruno smiles at your enthusiasm and gives your hand a gentle squeeze to catch your attention.

“So, what were you planning?”

You turn towards him and return the smile;

“There’s a dolphin show today and it’s probably going to start soon, so we better get there fast.”

“Lead the way, Tesoro.”

You let go of his hand to walk up to a staff member and ask him where the show you booked is supposed to be. After he reassures you that he’s going to walk you there you thank him and tell Bruno to follow the guy. He leads you to an hallway with an open door at the end of it, and you can already spot some people taking their seats.

“We should probably hurry up, everyone’s going to take the best seats if we don’t.” Bruno says, and you pull his hand playfully.

“Race you there?”

He stares at you in disbelief before shaking his head, a warm smile on his face.

“(Y/N), we’re adults.”

“Adults that are going to miss the show if they don’t rush!”

You both quicken your pace and manage to get there in time, luckily there are still some seats left and two of them are close to the pool where the dolphins are going to be swimming. Your husband reminds you that if you sit there you’re going to get splashed by the water, but you don’t really mind since you think it’s part of the experience.

You’re both surprised to find out that one of the Trainers is none other than Jotaro Kujo, if you’re not wrong then he must be one of Giorno’s relatives.

He seems like a man of few words, but you can tell he’s very good with sea animals and that they trust him completely. You watch the dolphins get introduced –there are seven of them in total!- and since you’re so close to them you already get your clothes pretty wet even before they start the actual show.

For the whole time you wish you could take pictures and videos, but apparently you’re not allowed to. Bruno tells you, however, that if there’s still time later you can stop and take a few pictures with the dolphins- that way you can both be in them too.

By the end of it your clothes are dripping with cold water and your hair is not in much better conditions; it was fun but now you feel like you don’t look good at all! Even Bruno is doing his best to get his black bob to look half decent, God forbid his hair doesn’t look perfect.

“It was fun! But I look stupid now.” you complain, standing up from your seat. Bruno stares at you with his eyebrows raised.

“What are you talking about? You’re beautiful as always-“

“If I told you the same thing you wouldn’t believe it.” You interrupt him before he can finish complimenting you.

“Fine, but you’re still beautiful to me.”

You try to hide your blush by turning around and walking towards the pool, where the photographers are.

“Whatever you say, Bruno! I’m going to get some pictures taken, move it if you don’t want to be excluded!”

He gives his hair one last squeeze before running after you.

 You walk back inside with many cute pictures in your hands; one of them portrays you and Bruno sitting on the ground and petting one of the dolphins, in another one you’re holding hands and two dolphins are kissing your cheeks, and so on.

You excitedly look through them all together while you walk to your next destination.

“Can you tell me where we’re going next? I hope I won’t have to get splashed again.” He asks with a grin. You honestly wouldn’t mind it because he looks so handsome with his hair all messy like that, but you push the thought aside for later.

“Maybe you will! We’re going to pet some sea creatures. Maybe they’ll take more pictures of us!”

When you get there you notice there are a lot of kids with their families and other couples, so you put the pictures in your bag and hold hands with Bruno- showing off a bit won’t hurt, right? Especially with a husband as kind and beautiful as yours.

One of the staff members starts explaining some facts about the animals you’re going to be interacting with and everyone listens carefully, excited to finally play a bit with them.

When it’s your turn to do it you hope that the photographers are doing their job right, because the cheerful expression on Bruno’s face is absolutely stunning and you wish you could capture it with your phone instead.

Little do you know that he thinks the same thing when he glances at you.

“That one looks like you!” you point at one of the spotted sharks in its pool; it’s white with black spots.

“Let me guess, because it reminds you of my suit?”

“That was hard to guess, wasn’t it?”

“Very hard indeed.” He lets out one of his irresistible laughs.

He may tease you and call you immature sometimes, but he immediately starts looking for other sea creatures that remind him of you and the other members of the gang. You’re certainly not going to tell Abbacchio that you compared him to a jellyfish.

When you’ve petted all the creatures you could pet and taken a few pictures with them, you and Bruno decide that it’s time to get something to eat. You find out that there’s a whole restaurant in the aquarium and settle for a quick romantic lunch there.

You once again get lucky and manage to sit at a table close to a big, bright tank full of small and bigger fish.

“Are you having fun?” you ask Bruno once you’re done ordering your food. The smile he gives you would be enough of an answer, you think.

“Of course I am, coming here was a great idea. Maybe we should come back with the others too one day?” he voices his thoughts and you chuckle at how much he cares about the other gang members. You do too, after all they’re like your family.

“Oh, I’m sure Giorno would love to visit this aquarium! Maybe for his birthday next year?” you suggest.

“That’s a great idea! Leone would get mad at all the splashing though.”

“Because it would ruin his makeup?”

“Exactly!” you both laugh at the thought of Abbacchio complaining because he’d have to come without his adored lipstick and mascara on.

“Anyway... I’m glad you’re having fun, Bruno. You rarely get a day off so I wanted to make it special.”

He doesn’t blush that often but whenever you tell him those kind of things his heart starts to beat faster.

“I’m glad I’m spending it with you, amore mio. You always know what to do to make me happy.”

 Your food arrives a bit later and you’re not surprised when you discover it tastes amazing. This is a really great place apparently, no matter what you’re doing- be it playing with the fish or eating traditional Italian food.

It’s already afternoon and you’re both feeling pretty lazy, so the dive will have to wait; you’re probably going to do it when everyone will be there, Mista and Narancia are going to have a blast.

You walk hand in hand through every hallway and admire the beautiful creatures swimming around you. The calming atmosphere and the blue lights make the experience even more magical for you and your husband, who you guess still finds your comment about him looking like a shark funny because now he’s pointing at every fish that vaguely reminds him of you.

Near the late afternoon you start to get a bit tired so you decide to retreat home. Everyone else is starting to leave as well so it starts to become quieter and quieter around you, it almost makes you fall asleep while you’re still walking.

During the day it turned out not to be that cold but the temperature must’ve dropped while you were inside, because as you step outside of the huge building you feel like you’re about to freeze.

“The weather keeps changing, it’s so annoying.” You complain as you get into Bruno’s car.

“Bring something warmer next time, I don’t want you to catch a cold.” He advises.

“You say that, but you’re still wearing clothes that are lighter than mine.”

“Do you want me to turn on some music?” he tries to change the subject, but you know better than to give up.

“Yeah! What about a song that talks about how you need to take care of yourself too?”

He leans back into his seat and sighs. It’s true, he always puts others first and rarely cares about himself, but you’re always there to remind him that he needs to stop being this selfless.

“You win! I’ll think about it next time.”

“Good.”

You gently cup his face with your hands and give him a kiss, before you let him turn on the car and choose a song that talks about love.

#jjba #jojos bizarre adventure #Bruno Bucciarati #bruno x reader #bruno bucciarati x reader #Vento Aureo #jjba x reader #jjba scenarios

[c-c-cherry]

April 4th

Today is Mista's least favourite day in the world. Maybe Giorno underestimated how much of an effect it really had on his friend.

I wrote this on Ao3 on April 4th so I hope that explains things lol

Word Count: 3711

◇◆◇◆◇◆◇◆◇◆◇◆◇◆◇

Giorno slowly walked upstairs, attempting to balance a full glass of water on an already slippery food tray. He didn’t think that he’d be spending his morning trying to intrude on his friend’s personal business, but a part of him couldn’t help it. He just had to know.

***

The day had been pretty normal as far as mornings go: Abbacchio was completely ignoring everyone at the breakfast table, Bucciarati was busy cooking waffles, Trish was leaned back in her chair reading a magazine, and Fugo was clearly trying to restrain himself from strangling Narancia to death, who “had the audacity to be so fucking loud this early” according to him.

Giorno stepped down from the stairs and into the kitchen and was greeted with multiple ‘good mornings’ from his teammates sitting at the table.

It made him feel warm inside, as much as he would never admit it. Before Bucciarati, he never really had anyone to greet in the morning; his stepfather was always passed out, and if his mother wasn’t giving him the cold shoulder, she was out having the time of her life at some club.

Things were different now. Although everything was so strange at first-- full meals, watching movies, people like Bruno and Mista who always asked how he was doing-- he was slowly growing more and more used to it. Something about it made him feel so...domestic.

“How many waffles do you want?”

Bucciarati’s voice cut his thoughts in half as he pulled up a chair next to Trish.

“Just one, thank you.”

The table resumed as normal as everyone got their food one-by-one, and Giorno turned his head to ask Mista a question when he realized that Mista’s spot was still vacant.

“Mista hasn’t come down yet,” he commented quietly, hoping someone else would notice as well.

“Well...duh,” Narancia replied, looking dumbfounded that Giorno would even think about Mista coming out of his room. Giorno stared blankly at the boy before looking up at Bucciarati.

“I’ll bring him some food in a bit,” Bruno sighed as he put another waffle on Narancia’s plate, “It's not a good idea to try to get him to come downstairs today.”

“Today…?” Giorno asked himself, trying to wrack his brain for some memory explaining why today could be bad. A death anniversary? His birthday? Did something bad happen to him on this date that he forgot about? No matter how hard he thought about it, his mind was drawing a blank.

“It's April 4th,” Narancia chimed in, stabbing a strawberry with his fork. He snorted when Giorno stared at him, confused as if to say, ‘How the hell do you not get it?’

What the hell was Giorno missing about this? Fugo sighed in irritation before he could try to decipher it even more.

“04/04,” the blonde remarked, watching Giorno’s face turn from confusion to realization, “There’s no way in hell Mista is coming out of his room today. Hell, he’s probably just pretending that today isn’t happening at all.”

Abbacchio snorted from behind his book. Bruno hit him on the back of the head with the spatula in his hand.

“Not funny,” he said, although a soft smile could be seen creeping on his face.

“To be fair, he’s pretty dramatic about it,” Trish said, taking a bite of her apple, “It's almost humorous, the way he makes that number such a big deal.”

“Exactly! Like, what’s he gonna do when he turns 44? Just cry for a whole year?” Narancia cackled, “What’s he gonna do when it's 2004? That’s coming up soon, too!”

“April 4th, 2004 will be a day to remember, alright,” Fugo groaned, simultaneously turning his head away in disgust as he watched Narancia drown his waffles in syrup.

“I mean, technically Number Five of his stand is really Number Four when you really think about it,” Trish said, “But I bet he’d have a stroke if someone told him that.”

“He just thinks that ignoring the number will make it disappear,” Fugo scoffed, “I don’t think that’s how it works.”

Giorno stared down at his plate. Was Mista really that affected it? He had heard the man complain about the number once in a while, but it seemed almost in a dramatic or joking way, at least from the way everyone made fun of him for it.

Mista was a pretty good sport. Maybe it was from all the injuries he had sustained in his time as a Passione member, but the man was surprisingly durable. Sure, he whined about everything from getting shot to the number four, but in the end, he always found a way to suck it up and make it better.

Giorno wondered if this was just another “Mista being dramatic” moment or if something was seriously bothering him. It was hard for him to even imagine Mista being more than his happy, whiny, dramatic self, but Giorno was the king of false appearances. He would know.

From all the shit he had lived through, Giorno was sure of one thing; no one will notice it unless it takes you over, or you decide to talk about it yourself.

“Hey. Do I have to give you guys the spatula, too?” Bruno asked, raising an eyebrow in disapproval. Giorno’s mind was brought back to reality, back to the table they all-- not Mista-- shared.

Narancia screeched and dove under the table and Trish laughed as Abbacchio angrily hissed at him to get his ass back in his seat. Fugo wiped his mouth with a napkin but said nothing.

Breakfast was resumed in peace, (aside from Narancia complaining about “fucking math”), and everyone had cleared from the table and respectively got to whatever activity they wanted to do. It wasn’t often that they had Saturdays free, but Bucciarati insisted that today's schedule was cleared off. 

Giorno imagined that it was because of whatever Mista was doing upstairs, but everyone seemed pretty stressed lately, anyway. A day off couldn’t hurt either way.

Narancia and Trish had fled to Narancia’s room to play Mario Kart before Fugo hunted them down and forced the orange boy to work on multiplication, Abbacchio resumed whatever book he was reading in the living room all while Bucciarati did the dishes.

Giorno sat at the table, unsure of what to do. He thought about doing paperwork, but there really wasn’t much to do in general. Besides, he felt a bit curious about what Mista was doing. He knew that it wasn’t his business, but he really did want to see how his friend was doing.

He had no idea if Mista was just being his dramatic self or not, but he knew that if it bothered him enough not to eat, it might be more serious than he thought. Either way, Mista was his friend. He knew the most out of anyone that going through things alone was always significantly worse.

“Need something?” Bruno asked, and Giorno realized that he’d been sitting at the table for far too long. Feeling his face turn slightly pink, he quickly shook his head. Bruno didn’t give the boy a second glance and resumed to...whatever he was doing.

“Sorry, but...may I ask what you’re doing?” the blonde said quietly, leaning back in his chair a bit. He bit his lip for being so formal with the man, he promised them he would try to kick the habit. Bruno seemed to pay no mind to it as if he were too concentrated on whatever task he was doing.

“Food for Mista,” was all the man said in reply, continuing to prepare the plate. Whatever it was, it wasn't what they had for breakfast. The plate was full of snacks, hardly a full meal; Fruits, cheeses, crackers, salami, Giorno recognized it all as Mista’s favourites.

“No waffles?” Giorno asked in confusion, and Bruno chuckled.

“He’d just spend forever counting the little holes in the waffles. They’d be cold before he could even take a bite,” he replied, “I doubt I’ll get him to eat anything today, anyway.”

What a mom, Giorno thought to himself as he watched Bruno patiently put everything on a tray. When he turned around and headed upstairs, Giorno nearly jumped out of his seat.

“I can take it-” he said, much too eagerly, “If you don’t mind, that is.”

***

Giorno knocked on the door of Mista’s room, careful to avoid tapping the door four times, and waited, the tray digging uncomfortably into his side as he kept a hand on the door.

“Mista?” Giorno called out softly. He thought he could hear shuffling from the other side of the door, before a gruff, “Who the hell is it?” was said, muffled slightly by the door.

“It’s Giorno,” he answered, adding on, “I have food.”

Giorno could hear the Sex Pistols whining and begging from outside the room and he couldn’t help but chuckle. The stands must be starving by now.

Silence met him, and Giorno was about to call out to him again before he heard Mista’s voice, more aggressive than before spit out, “How many are there with you?”

“Just one. Just me,” he answered back, and Giorno stepped back a bit as he heard more shuffling come closer to the closed door. After a moment of more silence, the door finally cracked open and Giorno saw Mista’s face appear on the other side. Well, more like Mista’s left eye. Giorno couldn’t see the man’s full face, but his expression was far from welcoming.

“I’m not hungry,” Mista finally said.

“Miiiisstaaa~”  

“Feed us Miiissstaaa~”

“We’re dying, Mistaa~”

“We’re starving~”

“Hey! Shut up, will ya?” Mista barked, turning his head. Giorno took the opportunity to grab the water glass that was inches away from falling off the tray.

“I can just leave it outside if you-” Giorno’s offer was cut off as Mista’s door opened quickly and a swift hand pulled him into the room, shutting almost as fast as it had opened.

Giorno was surprised that the water still hadn’t spilled.

Mista had his back to the door as if he were making sure that no one else could break in. Once he was sure that they were “safe”, the man huffed and sunk to the ground across from Giorno, who had already situated himself there, carefully setting down the tray.

“Sorry,” Mista breathed out, folding his arms over his chest. The tray in front of him wasn’t anything fancy, but Giorno was sure that the pistols wouldn’t mind at this point.

“Eat up, guys,” Mista said, his voice thick with exhaustion. The bullets scampered over and tore apart the food that lay in front of them.

Carefully pushing the tray and Mista’s bullets to the corner of the room, Giorno finally got a good look at the state of his friend. His usual hat was on his head, but that was about it; Mista was still in his pajamas and a blanket was lazily draped over his shoulders. His back was pressed up against the door and dark bags were forming under his eyes.

It would be an understatement to call him a mess right now, and Giorno couldn't help but feel guilty; he knew what it was like.

Giorno picked up the glass of water still sitting on it and passed it to him.

“Bucciarati said you probably weren’t hungry, but he brought you this,” the blonde said, as if it were some kind of peace offering. Mista nodded tiredly and took a long sip of it, setting it down in front of him.

“Thirsty?” Giorno asked him. To his dismay, Mista shook his head.

“Nah, it’s not that. Just can’t sip it more than three times,” he choked out. Giorno only now noticed the slight tremor in his body as he spoke.

The blonde opted to say nothing, just grabbed a pillow that was already half-falling off of Mista’s bed and propped it under his head as he leaned back slightly. He was fortunate that Mista’s room still had carpeted floors.

The pair basked in silence. Mista stared at the ground and Giorno leaned back and stared at the ceiling. He noted a few things about Mista’s room; the window that was usually open was shut and a curtain was drawn over it. Mista had also turned his lights off, leaving the room in a comfortable blanket of darkness. Although sitting in the dark was pretty relaxing, it made Giorno worry.

Did Mista genuinely want to pretend that today didn’t exist?

Giorno didn’t know how long they sat there until Mista cleared his throat awkwardly from across the room.

“So I’m guessing the others probably told you?” Mista said quietly, breaking the silence.

Giorno didn’t know what to say but nodded. He thought back to the breakfast table, where Fugo joked that Mista would pretend that today wasn’t happening and when Narancia claimed that he would cry for the entire year of 2004.

It seemed amusing enough earlier, but now their “jokes” really weren’t that far off from the truth, which was a bit scary to think about.

“Yeah.”

“They were probably laughing about it. They always laugh,” quiet laughter bubbled up Mista’s throat, but he sounded anything but happy. Giorno felt a shiver up his spine. This entire situation felt uneasy to him.

“Its stupid, isn’t it?” Mista’s voice got louder with each word. In the darkness, Giorno could see his figure hunched over still against the door, “A fucking number. There’s not even a good reason for it, it's just-”

Mista’s loud voice faltered for a minute, and Gioro heard him sigh and recompose himself.

“-Stupid.”

Giorno knew Mista couldn’t see him in the dark, but he shook his head out of habit.

“I don’t think it’s stupid.”

“No, Giorno, you do think its stupid,” Mista growled back, “You don’t have to be so goddamn polite all the time, for fuck’s sake. Just tell me that it’s fucking stupid!”

The yelling had taken Giorno back a bit and he found himself flinching back by habit as he inhaled a sharp breath. Mista seemed to notice the response and dialed it back a bit, instantly regretting what he had said.

“Sorry,” he breathed out roughly, “I’m- fuck- I’m sorry, Giorno.”

“It’s alright,” the blonde replied, feeling the sudden panic disperse almost immediately when Mista spoke back to him. He didn’t deal well with angry outbursts, but he’d had his fair share of episodes that were hardly ever pretty. Right now, he was just worried about Mista.

“It’s not alright though,” Mista growled quietly, frustrated, “None of this is fucking normal and all of this is fucking stupid.”

He didn’t say anything after that, so Giorno opted to stay silent as well. There wasn’t really anything he could do to help him besides be there with him...unless he just wanted to be alone in the first place.

“Do you want me to leave?” Giorno asked quietly, prepared to get up from his comfy spot on the floor and worry about him from a distance.

“No,” he replied sharply, though it felt less like a demand and more like a plea. Giorno nodded to himself and his eyes trailed back up to the ceiling.

His eyes had mostly gotten used to the dark by now and he traced the cracks in the paint with his eyes, wondering if they should paint over them during their next day off.

Mista held his head in his hands from across the room, back still leaned up against the door. It was fucking humiliating acting this way in front of Giorno, but he couldn’t help it at this point. He couldn’t ignore it today, the stream of thoughts that pushed their way into his brain.

The thoughts that told him if he sipped his water four times Abbacchio would be lying on the ground covered in blood with a gaping hole in his stomach.

That if he knocked on the door four times Narancia would be impaled, blood dripping onto the ground as lifeless eyes stared back at him.

That if someone showed him four slices of cake, Bucciarati would collapse and someone would tell him that he had been a walking corpse for days.

That if he walked outside this fucking room right now, Giorno would get shot in the head and collapse beneath his feet and it would be his fault.

Everything would go wrong and it would be his fault. All because he knew that he should’ve stayed inside. All because he knew what would have happened but ignored it anyway.

He could feel a familiar tension in his chest as his skull throbbed from behind his eyes. He swallowed thickly and tried to blink those thoughts away, tried not to think about what lay outside this door.

He blinked back tears as they swarmed his vision. He pulled the blanket further over his head and instinctively clenched his fists.

Don’t cry don’t cry don’t cry don’t cry don’t cry don’t cry don’t-

***

The silence was broken again as Giorno heard quiet whimpering from across the room, instantly recognizing the high-pitched sounds as Mista’s stand.

“Miiiistaa stop! You always tell us not to do that!”

“Miiisstaa~ stop acting like such a wuss!”

“Stop crying or you’ll make me cry too, Miiistaa~”  

“Number 5! You’re such a crybaby!”

Mista stiffened as Giorno abruptly sat up from his spot, eyes blinking to adjust to the darkness. He was hunched forward, the blanket over his head and blocking his face as the Sex Pistols scampered around him. Once they noticed him, they jumped, backing away towards the food plate again.

“Yikes! I forgot that Giorno was still here!”

“Pull it together, 5!”  

“Miissstaaa’s sad so I’m sad toooo~”

“Mista?” Giorno asked softly when he noticed that he wasn’t telling them off this time. Mista didn’t answer and the Sex Pistols grew silent, huddled back in the corner of the room.

“Mista,” Giorno said again, creeping closer to his friend, “Are you alright?”

A small sob was Mista’s answer and Giorno watched as the blanket fell off Mista’s shoulders, completely exposing him to the outside world.

“Fuck,” Mista choked out, desperately feeling around for the blanket as more tears blurred his vision. The Sex Pistols were muttering quietly in the corner and Giorno thought he could hear Narancia and Fugo fighting down the hall, but nothing could stop him from focusing on his friend.

“I’m going to put this back over you,” he said calmly,

He grabbed the blanket and draped it over the man’s shoulders again, feeling how much they were shaking when he did so.

Mista choked out a thank you and buried his face in his hands as more tears slipped down his face, dribbling onto his chin.

“Can I touch you?” the blonde asked. Mista sniffled and nodded slowly.

Giorno wasn’t really one for physical affection; he barely had anyone give it to him, and he was equally bad at giving it back to someone. He slipped next to Mista and let his gentle hands make their way to his back, rubbing small circles into it.

When he had woken up screaming just the third night of meeting the gang, Bucciarati had done the same for him.

“Can we--? Can we go up on the bed?” Mista asked, his voice breaking as he tried to speak between sobs. Giorno nodded and stood up, helping his friend up and led him across the room to the bed.

Once Mista had reached the foot of the bed, he collapsed into it, shoulders shaking. Giorno draped another blanket over him and sat on the edge of the bed, blinking in surprise when Mista asked him to join him under the covers.

Once Giorno was comfortably nestled under the covers, he felt Mista pry open his neatly folded arms and buried his face in his chest. Giorno wrapped his arms around the man and continued rubbing circles into his back, not stopping when he cried even harder.

Once the crying had mostly stopped, Mista raised his head and looked up at Giorno’s deep emerald eyes. Giorno brushed back a curl that had fallen out of his hat.

“Feel any better?”

“Not really,” he breathed out with a watery laugh. He felt another curl drop out of his hat and Giorno’s eyebrows quirked up with amusement.

“Do you want to take your hat off?” he asked. Mista shook his head and shuddered.

“No way, dude. That’d be like asking you to take your braid out.”

Laughter bubbled in Giorno’s chest and Mista felt warm. He could see the sunlight leaking out of the curtains from his bed and he let himself cuddle up closer to Giorno’s chest.

“Can you--” he started abruptly, “Can your stand heal my mind?”

He hoped his question wasn’t too stupid. Mista felt Giorno tense up as an airy laugh escaped him.

“Believe me, I’ve tried,” he said, resting his hand on the back of Mista’s neck. Mista looked up in surprise.

“Really?”

“How else was I supposed to experiment with Gold?” he shuddered at the memory of sitting in his room, begging his stand to make him better in some way, praying that his healing powers could also work internally.

“So...is there a specific reason why you don’t like it?” Giorno asked, quickly changing the subject. Mista inhaled sharply against his chest at the mention of it.

“Not really,” he said flatly. Giorno didn’t ask any more questions and he was thankful for it Giorno could tell that just the mention made him paranoid, and he opened his mouth to apologize, but found that Mista had beat him to it.

“I just wish that it wasn’t today,” he groaned in frustration, letting his gaze trail to the closed door. He could feel his mind starting to slow down as he nestled further into Giorno’s comforting warmth and he wanted nothing more than to stay there forever.

“It doesn’t have to be,” Giorno answered, pulling the covers over them, “We could just stay here.”

Mista sighed, already feeling exhaustion take him over. Maybe he could just stay here. He yawned.

“Sounds like a plan.”

Maybe today wouldn’t be as bad as he thought.

#jjba #jojo's bizarre adventure #jojo's bizzare adventure golden wind #giorno giovanna #guido mista #angst #hurt/comfort #tetraphobia #c-c-cherry's fic