Work Text:
Those who couldn’t prove their loyalty to Passione were immediately rejected from joining the gang, without devotion, Passione would just be an ordinary gang with no power whatsoever.
The loyalty of the gang members to each other and the gang was what made Passione horrifying and compelling.
Though it was crucial to be loyal to Passione to be able to join the gang, once someone entered the gang, they were attained under a group or a team leader who’d decide to pair them with someone.
Partners were the second most important pillar to Passione. Working without a partner was impeached by many and was considered a form of weakness. A member having an alliance with another gang member would benefit the relations within the gang members and the ‘true meaning of Passione’ shown to the public.
Loyalty and alliance were crucial to Passione but you swore your loyalty to someone, rather than your gang.
A man so bright, someone who had saved you from the clutches of hatred and promised you a better future.
“You’re late,” -Panettone took off his hat to reveal the disapproving look on his face, “-as always.”
You shrugged with a smile, “I couldn’t find the place.”
“I told you a thousand times we’d be meeting at Libeccio and just this morning you met me here,” the man beside Panettone hissed, he opened his mouth to perhaps call you stupid but stopped when his boss glared at him.
“You’re not to judge her,” Panettone reminded his right-hand man; Montasio who apologized to you after his Capo’s (more of a warning) memo.
Looking up at the tall man, you offered him an apologetic look, “I should be the one to apologize, you’re right. I’ll be more careful next time.”
Montasio acknowledged your apology rather than accepting it, “I’ll look forward to seeing that day.”
Panettone led you two inside the nearly empty restaurant. While he was talking to a waitress you turned to Montasio to whisper curiously, “What are we doing here?”
Unlike you, Montasio knew everything about Panettone and his plans. He scoffed at your cluelessness and folded his arms on his chest, “We’re here to intimidate another group of Passione.”
You hummed in thought, “I think, I’d be enough to intimidate the group with Panettone. You’re too polite looking to be able to scare other gang members, aren’t you?” a laugh escaped from you.
“You’re more annoying than intimidating,” Montasio couldn’t believe he was wasting his time arguing with an unreasonable young woman like you but somehow you always managed to get on his nerves.
“Well, you’re more of an ass-” A heavy hand on your shoulder cut you off. Jerking forward, you turned to look at Panettone who gave you a warning stare before talking, “We’ll be meeting them there,” he pointed at the separated floor of the restaurant. His hand on your shoulder gently pushed you forward, forcing you to walk together with him.
But when Montasio took a step to follow you two, “Montasio,” Panettone said. “Stay back.”
Capo’s tone sent shivers down your spine, you watched over your shoulder as Montasio nodded and turned on his heels to follow a waiter to a table on the other side of the restaurant.
“What’s going on?” you dared to ask but your Capo didn’t answer, instead he gave you a simple command; “Behave.”
You decided to keep your eyes on the table with two men sitting on opposite sides of it. They weren’t as formally dressed as you two were, the two men were wearing colorful clothes with their own unique designs on them.
The man with braided hair on top of his head got up from his seat to greet your Capo. “It’s a pleasure having you here, Panettone,” the young man’s attention almost faltered when he saw you beside the Capo. “It must be a long trip to come to Naples all the way from Rome for you.”
On a normal day, you’d complain about the trip and how awful Naples was but today, you kept your mouth shut. You gave him a polite smile without saying anything.
Panettone patted on your head, “She doesn’t like Naples.” Decidedly he ruffled your hair to annoy you.
He could say whatever he wanted yet you weren’t allowed to talk unless you were told to.
“Naples isn’t for everyone,” the man reached for a handshake and Panettone took his hand with a serious look on his face.
You felt uncomfortable being here, your Capo didn’t bring you along to his meetings with smaller groups but you were here for a reason. He hadn’t told you why yet, that’s all.
You found yourself looking at the young man sitting on the chair who hadn’t even bothered to greet your mighty Capo. He was observing you like you were observing him. Your eyes landed on his strange suit with holes in it. You’d seen people with the awful fashion taste in Rome but this outfit had to take the cake.
After a long time staring at his outfit, you finally managed to look at him. He was handsome, you couldn’t deny it. His eyes were sharp but his features were soft. If you’d met him somewhere else, there was a big chance you’d smile at him and start a conversation but it felt out of place to do that. As if he was thinking of the same thing, he looked away and started watching his leader. He was feeling uncomfortable, just like you. That’s why you tried to distract yourself by looking down at the tile floor, trying to decide whether that blue mark was a part of the design or a weird stain.
“This is my beloved assistant,” Panettone’s words brought you out of your thoughts and brought the tall man’s attention onto you again. He stared at you with interest, “I’m Bruno Buccellati,” his introduction was short, and he gave you a simple nod before turning to the young man you were observing earlier. Unlike Bruno, he looked at you over his shoulder with disinterest.
Bruno continued, “This is the strategist of my team, he’s my second in command,”- he raised a brow and waited for the young man to introduce himself.
With a sigh, the rude guy told you his name, “Pannacotta Fugo.”
You forced a smile on your face and told your name to the two men without noticing your Capo walking around the table to sit with Bruno, leaving you to take the seat next to the weirdo.
“Buccellati,” Panettone’s tone came off softer than any other time you’ve heard him talk to other people, he was smiling at this Bruno guy. “You know why I’m here.”
“Of course,” Buccellati’s throat felt dry but he didn’t dare to take a sip from the glass of water in front of him. He could feel your eyes drilling into him. “Is it true?”
Silence.
You thought the man was talking to your Capo but with all eyes on you, he must’ve been talking to you.
“Wha-... Excuse me?” Panettone wanted you to be kind and act like you had manners for once. He didn’t ask you to behave unless he respected those whom you were meeting.
Bruno managed to reach for his glass of water and take a sip while you were looking at the Capo for a clue. “You stopped a man from killing Panettone with your Stand,” he said. “Is it true?”
In the past years, you’ve gotten good at reading Panettone’s poker face but you couldn’t understand what your Capo wanted you to do here. These powers could attract those who wanted to take advantage of you, on top of that, he declaimed that higher-ups in Passione could take you away from his team if you were to show off your powers to others.
You were born with it and mastered your powers subconsciously. You called it Primadonna, a guardian angel - or perhaps the ghost of a beloved one. It was Primadonna who helped you to stay alive in the streets until Panettone found you and the least you could do was to use this power to help him. Without Primadonna, you would’ve been dead and your Capo would’ve been dead.
For many years, Panettone had told you to never speak of your special powers, yet a man you met only a moment ago knew about them and your Capo was encouraging you to speak.
“My… Stand?” your confused tone didn’t match the over-worried look on your face. Was that what it was called by others?
Bruno’s face appeared to blur, you blinked to make sure you weren’t seeing double and something jumped out from this blur, standing next to Bruno. “This is Sticky Fingers, as I named him, it’s a manifestation of my soul, this is my Stand,” he explained.
Pushing yourself away from the table in horror, you almost fell off from your chair. “Panettone, can you-?!” you pointed at the strange creature while looking at your Capo expectantly. “Can you see that thing ?”
Panettone nodded and put his hand on the table. A knife emerged out from his hand, and he grabbed it tightly before showing it to you, “Mine is nothing fancy.”
“What about Montasio?” you raised your voice with excitement.
“Only other Stand users can see Stands,” Bruno told you as he dismissed Sticky Fingers.
You sank back down onto your chair, “I thought I was the only one.” The thought of being a special person with special powers made you feel unique and unlike other people. “But Panettone! You never told me I wasn’t alone or that you had one!”
Your Capo avoided your stare by looking away, the knife he was holding disappeared. “If I did, you’d look for others. Catching the attention of the entire Passione. I wasn’t going to tell you about this until you stopped the assassin that was sent to kill me.”
“Apparently, the assassin was sent by the Boss,” Bruno added. “There was a rumor going around Passione that the Capo Panettone in Rome had a bodyguard more powerful than the Boss’ guard dogs.”
Montasio wasn’t powerful by any means, there was no way Boss wanted to kill your Capo because of Montasio.
“She’s too stupid to understand what you mean, Bruno,” Fugo commented and brought your attention to him. He didn’t look angry even one bit but he sounded very upset. “You caught the interest of the Boss without even noticing it. Your Capo wants to get rid of you now.”
Bruno raised his voice. “Fugo.”
“You want to get rid of me?” you exclaimed. You didn’t do anything wrong, all you wanted was to help Panettone and pay him back for what he’s done for you. Had he adopted you and raised you all these years for no reason other than to throw you back into the streets?
“No.” Panettone gave you a pained look. “Listen, child. I’m not strong enough to protect you from other Stand users in the gang. Boss wants you to join his guarding team or the elite information team.” Your Capo sounded desperate.
“I won’t join any team but yours. I pledged my loyalty to you, Panettone. You’re my Capo and I don’t respect anyone but you. You know that.” You slammed your hand on the table, and the aura surrounding you started to change.
Fugo got ready to attack but Bruno silently told him to stay down, you wouldn’t be able to hurt anyone but yourself if you brought out your Stand.
“You can’t disobey the Boss’ orders.” It hurt Panettone to say it out loud.
You were at a loss of words, you kept looking at your Capo for an explanation but it was more of a beg for his mercy. Boss was in Naples, somewhere around here, you didn’t know where he stayed but... But-
“You’re the Boss?” you asked, pointing your finger toward the man who was busy picking at his tiramisu.
Bruno’s head jerked up to look at you to confirm if you were talking to him. Your questioning face was more than enough for him to understand that you were talking to him. “No,” he said. “I’m just a team leader, I have two men under my command, not an army.”
“Three.” Fugo corrected. “Narancia will pass the test and come back with his own Stand by tomorrow.”
“Three.” Bruno agreed with a smile.
“Okay, then why are we here, Capo?” It was unnerving to sit at a table with people who had a similar power like you after your Capo told you had no choice but to work under the Boss. “Why are we here in Naples? Are you going to make these two deliver me to the Boss?”
It took a lot of nerve for Panettone to explain why you were here, meeting the man he trusted the most. “Buccellati is under Capo Polpo’s command who owes me his life.” He put his hand on the shoulder of the man sitting next to him. “As long as I’m alive, Polpo promised me to keep you safe under Buccellati’s team.”
“What?” you and Fugo both said in unison.
“Buccellati, you can’t let a woman join Passione!” Fugo glared at you in disgust. “Our team doesn’t need a lousy kid.”
“She’s already in Passione.” Panettone revealed.
To your surprise, Bruno looked more confused than all of you.
“Panettone, you never mentioned about her joining my team or her being in Passione.” Bruno shifted in his chair to talk to your Capo specifically, “I thought you wanted me to keep her safe.”
Bruno had thought you were just an assistant he deeply cared for who had a Stand that you were born with. Not a gang member. He could only name a couple of female gang members in Passione and as far as he knew, they were nothing but accountants or strategists of smaller groups.
“You’re hiding something.” You glared at Panettone.
The aura around you started to rise and spread.
For many years, you had never even dared to use your power on your Capo because of your respect for him. He gave you a home and took you under his wing- using your power on him would’ve been ungrateful.
But the same man who adopted you to keep you safe from the streets wanted to give you away like an object, so easily. It made you feel like nothing but a used tissue. Perhaps you were nothing but a charity for him. He’d killed more people than he’d helped, he must’ve adopted you to cleanse himself from his sins in his own way.
He wasn’t your father and you weren’t his daughter. Panettone was your Capo and you were his soldier. You knew he didn’t care for you yet you couldn’t accept the fact that he wanted to throw you away with the worst excuse you’ve ever heard from anyone. He didn’t need to protect you because you didn’t need protection. You were powerful enough to keep yourself and your Capo safe.
Your body started to shake in anger. The man who once you thought to be an incarnated angel, someone you deeply respected turned into the devil itself right in front of your eyes.
Without even realizing it, you were bringing Primadonna out but before you managed to let her step out from your body, you felt someone’s hand grabbing you by the shoulder and forcing your face down onto the table after twisting your arm.
“Don’t you dare draw your Stand out!” Fugo pressed you down onto the table, twisting your arm further to make sure you felt the pain.
“Young man, don’t!” Panettone got up from his seat to stop Fugo from provoking you but it was too late.
You turned your head to look at Fugo, your eyes met each other and he froze. His hand that was pressing you down weakened and his eyes went cold, his face became pale. He didn’t say anything but he helped you up.
After that, Fugo’s eyes returned to normal and his face regained its natural color. He looked at you in horror before stumbling a step back.
When you turned to use Primadonna on your Capo, he avoided your gaze.
“Don’t look at her, her Stand activates once you look at her eyes or if she touches you,” Panettone warned Bruno, who used his hand to cover his eyes. Fugo turned around and walked to the furthest corner of the floor to make sure you didn’t get to use your Stand on him again.
“Oh, the Mighty Capo of Rome!” you barked out a laugh. “You know about Primadonna and how it works!”
“I know everything about you. I adopted you and raised you.” Panettone’s tone faltered. “You’re my daughter.”
You heard the intense thought of protect coming from someone in Libeccio but it wasn’t your Capo. You turned your head to look behind you to see Montasio clutching on his belt, where he kept his gun. He was ready to pull his gun out to protect you. You knew because his desire to protect was aimed at you , he was ready to shoot whoever might have upset you.
“Then, what are we doing here?” you cried, turning your head to face your Capo once again. “Why are we here? Why do you want to give me to this man I just met and expect me to go along with it?!” A wave of despair washed over you as you watched your Capo turn to look at you slowly.
“Enough,” he said. “Dismiss Primadonna.”
Frowning, you put her away.
“Sit down.” Panettone had ordered you but Fugo sat down as if he was ordered to while you remained unseated. “Sit down, child. You’re making Montasio suspicious.”
“Tell me why Panettone.” You ignored his command and clenched your teeth to sound as threatening as you possibly could. “Or I’ll leave and tell Montasio about this.”
As much as you two annoyed each other, Montasio deeply cared for you. He felt more of a father to you than Panettone ever did. Guardsman of the Mighty Capo of Rome had a very close relationship with you. He brought you gifts, he took you out to eat the best meals you’ve ever eaten and even took you to see those football matches you didn’t understand a single thing about. It didn’t matter what you two were doing, Montasio always found a way to make things interesting and kept you out of the gang’s work. He’d wanted to make sure that you lived your teenage years happily and hadn’t wasted them in Panettone’s office, where you spent most of your time looking out the window.
(Out of boredom, you’d use Primadonna to manipulate those poor souls who had the misfortune to meet your gaze solely by chance. You’d keep yourself entertained by watching men fight each other after planting the sick desire to fight in one of them using your Stand.)
The guardsman wasn’t assigned to take care of you but he’d leave the Mighty Capo of Rome behind if he were to learn that Panettone wanted to give you away to a team in Naples, where you were picked out of the first time.
There wasn’t a single thing he could say to make you stop telling Montasio. He knew it.
“You’re blessed with a power far beyond anyone in Passione has. The Boss will try to use you for his own gain but if you’re too stubborn to follow orders, you’ll get yourself killed.” Panettone was desperate. As strong as your Stand was, it had many weaknesses, some unknown to you. He studied your Stand without you noticing him, he knew every strength and weakness of Primadonna.
Panettone wanted you to stay with someone he trusted deeply. Someone he knew who could protect you from others.
“You have no idea of what great powers Passione gangsters are hiding. There are gangsters who can kill you by aging, there are gangsters with the power to spread a mold which corrupts every living thing it can reach, so much so that it can kill an entire city.”
That meant you weren’t the only one, Bruno wasn’t the only one with the powers either. Perhaps Fugo had a guardian angel too- Stand, you corrected yourself. If there were others then that meant you had more rivals to defeat, right?
“It’s my mistake you’re this way, I put you in a bubble and made sure you never got out of it. My foolish mistake made you overconfident in your abilities but, child… your power is nothing compared to people like them.”
“Primadonna can stop them all-”
“No, it can’t.” Panettone was getting tired of your stubbornness. “You’re not invincible, your Stand is weak . You can’t fight, you can only use it to defend yourself and others. That’s why the Boss wants you for himself, you’ll be his human shield. He’ll sacrifice you to save himself if needed.”
Fugo seemed disturbed by what your Capo had said but not for the same reason as you. While you were disgusted with the idea of being Boss’ guard dog who’d be ready to die for him, Fugo hated how Panettone made it sound like a bad thing. Those who joined Passione had also accepted to die for the Boss after all.
“I wouldn’t die for a man I don’t know,” you proclaimed.
“I know.” Panettone looked defeated.
Bruno cleared his throat, he’d heard enough. “Your Capo worries about your safety, young lady. You should be grateful to have a leader who cares for you.” He spoke slowly and in a calm tone, hoping to get you to sit down. “Panettone never told me about your Stand or you joining my team but I understand his concern over you. You’re young and have a power that’s far too powerful for your own good. It can get you hurt or hurt others. ”
You opened your mouth to tell Bruno how you wouldn’t hurt anyone but he didn’t give you the chance.
“You need to hurt others to protect yourself and those you care about,” Bruno’s words slapped you into the reality of the gangsters. “There are people who’ll hurt you. Passione is just a gang, we’re not a family. Anyone in the gang can hurt you or your Capo. You may have saved Panettone’s life once but that doesn’t mean you’ll be able to save him again. Panettone can defend himself and others around him but from what I heard, although you saved your Capo that day, once your Stand was dismissed the assassin shot a civilian out of confusion.”
It was an accident. You had made sure to force him to forget about his mission and leave without causing any harm but his utter desire to complete his mission made him break the effects of Primadonna’s mental manipulation.
You nod in shame.
“Now, tell me.” Bruno gestured for you to sit down politely. “How do you plan on protecting your Capo if you can’t protect civilians who haven’t done anything wrong?”
Instead of answering, you pulled the empty chair and sat back down on your seat.
Panettone gave a sigh of relief as you sat down but you knew he wasn’t relieved that you finally sat down because your Capo was looking behind you.
You didn’t need to turn your head to know who he was looking at.
~~~
Montasio jumped up from his seat the second he saw you and Panettone walking towards his table, he’d been picking at his food for nearly three hours. He didn’t dare to ask what you two were doing, he hadn’t even met the other group but he knew something was wrong just from the look on your face.
But it didn’t matter, you three were going back to Rome tonight. The taxi was waiting right outside to take everyone to the train station.
“Let’s go,” Panettone said. He walked past Montasio and towards the door.
The guardsman would’ve unquestionably followed his Capo but he hesitated.
“Aren’t you coming you little rascal?” Montasio chuckled. He expected you to call him an insult and follow after him like you always did but you remained silent.
“Montasio.”
Panettone was waiting for his guardsman, it was time to leave.
“Sir, she’s being stubborn again-”
“She’s not coming with us.” Capo’s words hit Montasio like a brick.
He looked confused and upset. If it weren’t for the Capo’s reputation, he would’ve yelled at you for making stupid jokes. Though he wasn’t aware of your Stand, he thought that you were good at hypnotizing people, something he’d seen in the movies. He wasn’t smart so he didn’t think much of it.
“Don’t make me wait, Montasio,” Panettone warned.
Montasio was caught in a dilemma of dragging you towards the exit and going against his Capo’s wish to wait for you to walk out of the Libeccio yourself. “Come on, don’t make us wait,” he begged.
Your teeth wanted to chatter but you pushed your tongue in between to stop them. Causing you to bite your tongue without even wanting to. You could cry as much as you wanted after they left.
“Montasio.” Panettone’s irritated tone echoed in the Libeccio. “She’ll be staying here in Naples.”
“Stop the prank, kid. It’s getting annoying.” Montasio looked in despair. He took a step forward to grab your arm but you got under his arm that was reaching out for you and wrapped your arms around his torso instead.
You forgot your promise to yourself and burst into tears. “Montasio,” you sobbed. “I’m sorry.”
Frozen, Montasio’s hands landed on your back as you tightened your arms around him, encouraging the man to hug you back. He leaned forward to get on your height and embrace you with tears running down from his cheeks.
He didn’t know when he’d started crying but he’d understood that you wouldn’t be coming back to Rome with them.
Montasio could hear your muffled sobs against his chest but he chose to ignore it. If he acknowledged how much you didn’t want to go, he would’ve broken down crying in the restaurant with you.
“Montasio!”
“Look at me.” Montasio pushed you away from himself and got on one knee. “This isn’t a goodbye, kid. I’ll come to see you again. Don’t you dare to cry or cause trouble for these guys and don’t ever be late to the meetings!”
You rapidly nodded, sniffling as Montasio wiped your tears with his thumb.
He dove his hand in his jacket’s inside pocket and took out a pocket knife with a pink ribbon around it. You stared at him before chuckling. “What’s that?”
“I was saving this for your birthday but-”
“Montasio, don’t make me say your name again.”
“-you never told me when’s your birthday.”
Montasio slipped the knife into your hands and pressed them together with his own, you pulled your hands back. You stared deep into his eyes as you held the knife tightly over your chest. “Goodbye, Montasio.”
You waited for his eyes to turn emotionless and for him to walk away from you as you planted the urge to leave into his mind but Montasio kept still, instead of going away, he looked at you with a dreary smile.
His desperate wish to stay with you for a little longer and say farewell broke the fake thought you planted within him using Primadonna.
He lifted his hand and caressed your cheek. “Goodbye.”
As much as you wanted to lean into his touch and beg for him to stay, Montasio stood up and left without giving you a second look. If he were to turn around and look at you again, he’d most definitely stay.
He walked passed his Capo and you felt tears running down your cheeks.
Panettone put his hat back on and gave you a simple nod before giving you one last order.
“Behave.”
~~~
“You’re late again!” Fugo snapped at you.
Sighing, you took off your jacket and walked into the apartment with a frown. “It’s not my fault. Abbacchio and I had an argument.”
“And?” he demanded to hear more of your story.
“He made me walk home and he drove off by himself.”
“So, it is your fault,” he muttered. He folded his arms over his chest. “You have to stop annoying others, especially us. You can’t get what you want from us, we know-”
“Yeah yeah, you know everything about me!” you wave your hand and flip him off before walking over to the two men sitting on the couch with takeout leftovers on the coffee table they had their feet on. “You guys had pizza?!”
Narancia confirmed with a nod and scooted away from Mista to open a space for you. He patted the empty space he opened, “Fugo drove us to the best pizzeria in Naples with Buccellati’s car!” he excitedly told you.
You made your way to the couch by carefully avoiding the empty cans of beverages and trash on the floor. “How come Fugo gets to drive the car but any of us?”
Fugo sucked air through his teeth and threw himself to his chair. “It’s because I’m the only one who doesn’t drink every fucking night!”
His remark goes unnoticed by the three of you on the couch.
“What did you do to make him that upset?” Mista lifted his legs to let you pass to sit in the middle of him and Narancia.
“I told him that he looks weird with purple lipstick and that he should stick to black.” you settled on the couch and reached for a piece of pizza while Narancia was laughing.
“No wonder why he hates you the most.” Fugo gritted his teeth, watching three of you from his part of the apartment. His side was clean, almost spotless, and had one chair, far away from the couch, where he wouldn’t need to watch whatever stupidity you three watched on the TV. He read books or drank coffee on his chair while staring outside the window next to the balcony instead of socializing with any of you.
Though all of you had your own rooms, the living room, the kitchen, and the bathroom were shared by everyone.
Narancia or Mista wasn’t allowed to use the kitchen after their failed attempt at baking a cake but occasionally you’d cook for your teammates. Fugo didn’t bother to cook, he wasn’t good at it.
In the end, the kitchen was used only as a space to store the wine bottles you stole from Abbachhio and for the beer Mista bought for everyone.
The fridge remained empty most of the time but sometimes it’d have leftovers in it. Though, the leftovers would be eaten by nobody other than Pistols overnight when everyone was asleep which made the perfect excuse to buy groceries to whoever opened the fridge first to see that the little bastards ate everything. That unlucky member had no choice but to go and buy groceries.
It was a rule Narancia came up with to avoid getting yelled at by Fugo to buy groceries but it was always Narancia who bought the groceries anyway. He’d constantly forget about the rule he came up with and open the fridge to discover it was completely empty.
Sometimes, you’d go and buy instead of Narancia. Not because you pitied him but because he never managed to buy the things you put on the list. You learned it the hard way that you couldn’t simply put menstrual pads on the list and expect him to come back with the exact ones you needed.
Apart from buying your own hygiene products and restocking the boys’ three in one body wash and shampoo they all shared, it had become a habit for you to buy snacks for the Pistols.
So it was only natural for them to take a liking to you and for their user to see you as his savior from these little demons.
Mista and you worked together easily because of this. He trusted you with his life, he thought highly of you. Though he had only joined the team a couple of months after you, he always brought up that you were his favorite teammate to work with. Like he’d shown you Sex Pistols, you’d shown him your Stand.
Narancia had joined the team only a day after you. You’d helped him to discover Aerosmith’s abilities, you’d shown him Primadonna because you wanted him to see what the manifestation of your soul looked like.
Abbacchio had no choice but to show you his Stand during a mission but you knew it wasn’t personal. Moody Blues was a manifestation of his soul and he was ashamed of his sins so much that they had been reflected onto his Stand. He was imprisoned to relive his sins over and over again, that was Moody Blues’ power. Replaying.
He didn’t bring his Stand out unless it was absolutely necessary and it was understandable.
Because for a Stand user to show someone their Stand meant only a couple of things. They could’ve brought out their Stand to use them to taunt someone or to fight them. Or in (most of) your teammates’ case; they trusted you.
Showing someone your Stand, especially your teammates, was a way of telling them that you trusted them.
Bruno had shown you Sticky Fingers the moment you’d met him to silently tell you and your Stand that there wasn’t anything to be scared of. Your Capo showed you his Stand because he had to…
There was only one person who’d never showed you his Stand. Someone who’d already shown it to the new guy, Mista, and the lousy idiot, Narancia. But not to you.
You were unable to read into Fugo’s thoughts. You didn’t know if he didn’t trust you enough to show you his Stand or if he just hadn’t had one he visually could show.
But you’d heard Narancia talk about Purple Haze like he’d talk about those football teams he passionately supported.
Fugo didn’t bother to show you his Stand because, to him, you were nothing but a nuisance.
You couldn’t complete missions on your own, you couldn’t cooperate with your own team members. All you did was complain and cause trouble for everyone else with your stubborn nature.
“Don’t you two have a mission tomorrow?” Fugo’s angry voice seemed to be louder than the rerun of Narancia’s favorite competition show.
You didn’t move from your place under Narancia’s arm, it was way too comfortable and warm for you to leave. “Hmm?” You knew your angry teammate was talking to you and the newbie snoring on the other side of the couch but if you acknowledged it, Fugo could lecture you about how irresponsible you are for the millionth time.
“He’s talking to Mista.” Narancia reached for a beer can and before you could manage to register what he was doing, he threw it onto the poor guy’s head.
Mista jumped from his seat, knocking everything on the coffee table down with his foot in the process.
“What happened?” he asked, looking at you snuggled up to Narancia and then to Fugo.
Sighing, Fugo slapped a hand on his face and dragged it down slowly. He hated how it was his job to take care of three kids who constantly made him rethink every decision he’d made in his life. “Go to fucking bed, all of you.”
None of you needed to hear it twice but nonetheless, there was a collective groan before everyone started moving.
Yawning, Mista stretched his arms over his head. “How’re your wounds?”
Your blood ran cold. "What?" you whispered.
“Fugo got stabbed during his mission,” Mista said abruptly.
Narancia threw another beer can at Mista. “He told you not to talk about it in front of her.”
“Why didn’t you tell me about this?” you yelled at Fugo in disbelief. You got up from the couch and walked over to Fugo’s chair. “Have you gone to a hospital? Are they treated?”
Up close, you could see how much paler he looked. His face was flushed red and he was sweaty. You reached your hand to check if he had a fever but Fugo slapped your hand away.
“Fugo, you can die from an untreated stab wound.”
“I’m fine,” he hissed. Although he didn’t look like it.
“You don’t sound fine,” you remarked.
Fugo groaned loudly, “I was in the hospital with Buccellati earlier.”
You didn’t believe him, Fugo had gone days with multiple stab wounds and left them untreated in the past. While everyone else was used to his childish tantrums, you cared for him.
You turned your head to look at Mista and Narancia to ask them if that was true but they weren’t there. They’d sneaked out to not get caught in another heated argument between you and Fugo.
“Show me,” you stared down at Fugo. “If you show me your wound and if it’s treated, I’ll leave.”
Fugo suddenly sat up, he stared at you through his long hair falling on his face, and with one smooth move, he took off his shirt.
You’d never seen him shirtless before, even if his suit didn’t leave much to imagination Fugo wasn’t the type to strip in front of anyone. You had a lot of things to say, most importantly you wanted to make fun of him for it by cracking a joke about how he should take you to dinner first. You’d tell him all of these things to tease him if you hadn’t seen his stomach.
Fugo sat back on his chair like it was nothing while your hands went to cover your mouth, you gasped loudly at the sight of one large zipper on his stomach, holding his tender flesh together. It was clearly treated by Bruno and it wasn’t poorly done.
What worried you were all of the other wounds on his upper body. Cuts that had healed very poorly, leaving nasty scars, and a particular stab wound on his shoulder which was still open but from what it looked like; it wasn’t fairly new. He had a bullet wound on his shoulder which hadn’t healed properly either.
The shaking wouldn’t stop, you’d seen worse wounds on others. Hell, You’d seen Abachio cut the fingers off someone who didn’t pay their taxes. You were able to watch him without feeling sick or looking away but seeing Fugo covered in scars made you worried sick even if they were treated.
“Does it hurt?” you asked, trying to keep your thoughts sane.
Fugo didn’t answer but anyone could read it from the silence.
You don’t want to know.
And oddly enough, you didn’t want to know. If he were to tell you it hurt, you’d start hyperventilating and panicking.
You kneeled in front of him to get a better look at the zipper. “Can I?” Your shaky hand reached towards his stomach and when he gave you a nod of affirmation, you leaned in closer to let your fingers trail on his skin, almost, caressing it.
Fugo shivered under your touch, his hand went to cover his mouth to muffle the sharp gasp he let out. His entire body was buzzing fitfully to the warmth radiating onto his skin from your hand but he remained calm.
You had no idea how much Fugo hated you. He hated how Buccellati always praised you whenever he could or when Abbacchio, whom he wasn’t very close with brought you with him to his missions because he thought you were “fun to have around.''
Narancia was Fugo’s only friend in the team and you stole him from Fugo just like you stole his leader from him. There wasn’t a moment Narancia or the newbie; Mista didn’t talk about you.
Fugo didn’t care if others liked him or not, he wanted to be that person who sent shivers down one's spine when they heard his name. Nevertheless, he needed validation from Buccellati, he was the only person he needed in his life but you took Bruno away from Fugo.
Although he despised you, there was no way of denying how gorgeous you were. He’d never admit how beautiful you looked with your hair tucked behind your ear while you were examining his treated wounds.
He would’ve pushed you away but there were two reasons why he couldn’t.
One being how mad Buccellati would be if he found out Fugo was being rude to Bucellati’s pretty little assistant he was entrusted by the Mighty Capo of Rome.
Second being… Your delicious smell invading his nostrils and your warmth radiating onto his naked skin.
If he leaned forward just a bit, he could - His shaky hand hovered in the air before he caressed your cheek with his knuckles.
“What are you doing?” came your astonished voice.
It didn’t take long for him to register what he was doing. Fugo blushed in shame and pulled his hand back to himself before jumping up from his chair. “I’m going to bed,” he declared abruptly.
~~~
The heavy backdoor opened with a loud creak, turning all of your attention to the man who exited the bar. The man stumbled on the empty sidewalk and chugged the beer bottle he was holding. He couldn’t keep his balance and kept walking to the side until he crashed onto the wall before falling face down the concrete.
“That’s our guy,” Mista whispered, pulling his gun out of his boot. You hummed in return, trying to quietly observe the man from across the street.
“What was his name again?” you asked. Bruno had told you to keep a distance while watching the man he suspected to be the person who murdered a fellow gangster from Bari. It wasn’t certain that this man was the suspect or if he had a Stand but it was best to assume that the man had one and observe him from afar.
“Quattro Stronzo, I think,” Mista was unsure, he wasn’t listening to Bruno that day. “I don’t remember, His name’s irritating.” He put his warm hand on your back, giving you an ensuring smile. “Do you remember the plan?”
You nodded slowly.
“Tell me.”
“I’m going to detain him with Primadonna by commanding him to keep still and you’re going to ask the questions.”
Mista’s hand on your back slid up to your shoulder and he gave it a tight squeeze. “Alright, you ready to go?”
You shook your head slowly.
He would’ve laughed but you looked serious about not being ready. Bruno had told both of you to do the job quickly. Earlier you both had agreed to do the interrogation as quickly as possible to be able to go home and drink wine to celebrate another successful mission.
He asked you why you were hesitating but all you could do was to point at the man across the street with a terrified expression.
Mista followed your hand pointing at the man and he stared at Quattro who hadn’t moved even slightly. “What’s the problem?” He was getting impatient, you were wasting both of your time. You could’ve been done with the mission by now. “He’s still knocked out but with a kick in his stomach he’ll be wide awake.”
“That’s the thing, Mista,” you whispered. Your hand pointing at the man trembled as you lowered it. “He’s faking it.”
Your teammate looked at you for you to elaborate.
“People don’t have vivid thoughts during their sleep. They don’t thirst for murder, at least not this intensely.” Quattro’s desire to kill was unmistakably aimed at the two of you, it was disturbing and very strong, and you could sense his malicious intent from this far away. He knew you were after him and he was ready to take on both of you.
“You can detain him, right?” Mista brushed it off. He’d seen many targets who had even faked their death to avoid being interrogated, so it wasn’t new for him and it wasn’t new for you either.
Quattro’s bloodthirst scared you. It was intense, something you’d never sensed within anyone before. Naturally, you were worried about your and Mista’s safety. But this man’s warped thoughts alone could drown you.
Mista repeated his question and you remained silent.
There was no way you could decrease Quattro’s inexorable thirst for murder. Every single thought you could read from the man was about violence and murder. Nothing about Quattro was normal.
“We should call Buccellati, this man is way too dangerous for us to handle.”
You couldn’t fight, your Stand worked only in your defense. All you had with you was the pocket knife Montasio gifted you. Mista’s Pistols could kill the man, you knew they could… But Quattro allegedly had killed one of the best gangsters in Passione. You had no idea of his abilities or if he had a Stand.
Mista didn’t stand a chance nor did you.
“What are you talking about?” Mista started loading his gun. It was just a simple interrogation mission, you two had to do it, Bruno wasn’t in town and the rest of the gang were on different missions. If you two failed this mission you both wouldn’t get any money until the next month.
He took a step forward. “I’m-” Without being able to finish his sentence, Mista fell face down onto the concrete, dropping his gun in the process.
The disgusting crunch sound echoed in the empty street. You could see the outline of a humanoid Stand holding your teammate down.
“Mista!” you yelped. The man across the street was sitting on the sidewalk, waiting for you to take a step forward. You could sense his desperate wish for you to help Mista, he wanted for you to take a step forward.
No matter what, you had to keep still, you weren’t sure of Quattro’s Stand or its abilities. It probably had a five-meter range, from where you stood, you had to be safe.
“Why don’t you help your friend?” Quattro was watching your struggle of not being able to help Mista with some dark amusement.
“Mista!” you called his name but he didn’t react. His shoulders were moving, he had to be breathing but he wasn’t conscious.
You squinted to see the humanoid Stand float its way back into its user. Quattro seemed very eager not to move. Like you, he was observing his enemy. He didn’t know what kind of Stands you two had, he probably took Mista down because he assumed Mista had a stronger Stand.
And he was right.
With a man like Quattro, you had no chance of winning.
Sex Pistols were your only chance of getting out of this situation. You needed Mista to wake up but without him you were nothing. You couldn't fight Quattro off like this. Vulnerable and completely defenseless as you were, there was nothing you could do to stop him, not when Mista was unconscious.
If it weren’t for your pride, you’d be on your knees, begging for forgiveness. There was no use for you to even try to fight. Whatever his Stand was, you two were left to his mercy and if you were lucky, Quattro would let you leave with Mista. But in the gangsters’ world, there wasn’t any room for mercy.
So you had to come up with a plan, possibly you could slap Mista with Primadonna, activate your Stand on him, and wake him up with the impact. Mista would most definitely be confused when he woke up but if you gave him a command to shoot the man instantly, he’d move a lot faster. You could defeat the enemy in an instant.
Decidedly, you let Primadonna step out of your body. Ready to jump forward to slap Mista awake.
“Don’t try anything,” Quattro suddenly said, startling you out of your frantic thoughts. “I’ll kill him.”
You saw his Stand grab Mista’s leg and drag him across the street, away from you.
Now, you didn’t have a plan. You were at this man’s mercy.
“You’re with Buccellati, right?” Quattro stood up and walked over to unconscious Mista’s body. He stepped on Mista’s back before looking up at you for an answer.
“Yes,” you said. There wasn’t a point in lying.
“Do you know who I am?” He crouched next to Mista and grabbed him by his neck.
“Yes.” Mista’s gun was right in front of you. If you could grab it, you could shoot the man. “You’re Quattro, the man who killed the-”
“You know what,” Quattro dismissed his Stand, he lifted Mista by his neck and stared at his bleeding face. “I’ll let you leave, little girl. You’re not as threatening as the other guys in Buccellati’s team.”
His intense desire to kill was still present but it was only aimed at Mista. “What about him?”
Your question made him laugh. Quattro almost dropped Mista from his grasp but kept laughing like it was the funniest joke he’d ever heard. “I’m going to kill him. Buccellati has to learn his place. The city belongs to my team-” Primadonna grabbed the gun, she slyly returned back to your body and you managed to put the gun in your back pocket by the time Quattro finished talking.
“I can’t leave my friend behind,” you stated. Montasio had taught you how to shoot but you weren’t as good as Mista. There was no chance for you to shoot Quattro on your first try. You didn’t even know how Mista’s gun worked or if it worked without the Pistols.
Quattro sighed loudly and gave you your answer by suddenly smashing Mista’s face onto the sidewalk.
Without hesitation, you took the gun out and aimed it at Quattro. You teared up as your body started trembling in fear. You cocked the gun but if you were to pull the trigger, the bullet wouldn’t hit Quattro. Your hands were shaking way too much for the bullet to travel to the target without missing.
Quattro gave a disinterested look at the gun before grabbing Mista by his hat and lifting his face off the concrete.
“Don’t!”
Your warning came off as a cry but it didn’t matter. Quattro mercilessly kept pounding your teammate’s head onto the concrete.
“I said stop!” The gun in your hand was heavier than you’d imagined. It kept getting heavier when you realized that you had to kill someone in order to save another.
You had to shoot.
Pull the trigger dammit!
Mista’s going to die if you don’t.
“Aren’t you going to shoot me?” Quattro mocked you with a smile, slamming Mista’s face onto the concrete with his entire strength.
Mista wasn’t awake, there was no one who could help you on this backstreet. You had to save Mista by yourself from this bloodthirsty monster.
You know it.
Why aren’t you moving?
Why can’t you pull the trigger?
The sound of Mista’s flesh rapidly pounding on the sidewalk echoed in the empty backstreet.
“Please, stop!” You lowered the gun, begging for the man to stop.
Quattro looked up at you, seemingly satisfied, he pulled back Mista’s hat and his fingers slid through Mista’s hair as he released him in a mockingly affectionate gesture.
“Please, let him go.” You were trembling, your cheeks wet from your tears.
This wasn’t how the mission was supposed to go.
Quattro didn’t pay you any mind. You were helpless to stop him, you both knew that you could never kill him. You didn’t have the guts to shoot him.
“This is Mista, right?” Quattro smiled while petting Mista’s curly hair. “I heard that he’s new to the team.” He twirled his finger around a curl before sighing loudly. “I’d rather kill Buccellati’s second in command rather than a newbie but maybe next time.” He glanced up at you to see your reaction.
“F-Fugo will kill you!” you blurted out. You’d never gone into a mission with Fugo but you wished he was here. He was smart, he’d know what to do.
“I’d kill F-F-Fugo in an instant,” Quattro mocked your stutter with a smirk. “You should leave before I change my mind about letting you go. I wouldn’t want to kill a pretty girl like you.”
The gun aimed at Quattro. Your hands were still shaking, the gun wouldn’t stop wavering either. “Let Mista go.” Primadonna jumped out from your body, she stood right behind you as you tried your best to get into Quattro’s mind and tell him to let Mista go.
His desire to kill Mista had gotten only stronger, it was useless for you to even try to manipulate his thoughts. You could never change his mind with Primadonna.
For what felt like hours you stood there, using Primadonna to monitor some sort of ‘humanistic’ emotions Quattro had. Just a little spark or trace of emotion you could increase in order to perhaps get rid of his bloodthirst.
But there wasn’t any.
If you looked too hard into him, Primadonna could snap. If she backfired now, you’d put Mista’s life in danger.
“I know about your Stand,” Quattro said. His knowledge about Primadonna made you feel a lot more at a disadvantage. “It won’t work on me, I knocked your partner out so you can’t use your Stand on him either. Just leave, kid.”
If you dared to leave Mista behind now, he’d be dead. You could never live with the fact that you let your friend die. Having no choice but to try to wake Mista up again, you directed Primadonna onto Mista’s mind.
It was empty.
Everything Primadonna tried to plant into his mind seemed to just bounce off or echo until it died out.
You didn’t like being seen as weak because people around you already saw you as a weakling. You’d joined the gang because you wanted to be that person everyone could depend on, just like Montasio.
You were about to lower the gun-
‘-help-’
‘Let us out Mista!’
‘We can help!’
‘We’re gonna die!’
The tiny voices screaming into your head chilled your skin. Your pulse went absolutely haywire under the realization of the Pistols being present and very much active within Mista’s unconscious state.
Your surprise must’ve shown through because Quattro brought his Stand out. “Leave,” he warned.
Primadonna had abilities you weren’t aware of. With every mission, you’d find out new things about her and learn her limits. Like how you learned that she actually worked on anyone you could see or managed to touch and not by looking into people’s eyes. It was a big plus for the entire team and that was why they brought you into interrogation missions like this.
But this was completely new from anything you’d experienced with her before, you had never heard or sensed Stands with Primadonna before. You struggled with renewed vigor, your mind frantically scanning for a way out of this mess.
A crazy idea came into your mind.
You turned your head to look at Primadonna. She was ready to let you guide her, just as always.
“Sex Pistols,” you desperately hollered. “Come on out.”
Pistols went completely silent inside Mista’s mind. The anxiety of the situation quickly returned back to you when Quattro took a step forward. “This is my last warning, kid. Leave.”
You were going to die or worse, Mista was going to die.
“She wouldn’t heartlessly abandon Mista in his hour of need!” the high-pitched voice yelled, hovering over your shoulder.
“What the-?” Quattro stumbled back. “How did you-”
The Pistols appeared one by one, you could see them come out of Mista’s body and land on the gun you were holding. The gun suddenly got lighter, and you could hold it tightly. The barrel pointed right between Quattro’s brows, the gun didn’t waver anymore.
Pistols kept screaming and telling you to shoot them, they ensured you that they’d hit the target wherever you aimed. While you were trying to find the courage to pull the trigger, Quattro sent his Stand onto Mista, the humanoid Stand lifted its sword-like hand up as high as it could and you watched as it started falling down like a guillotine.
The thought of losing Mista because of your cowardness made your throat clench. Without having time to think or hesitate, you pulled the trigger repeatedly with your eyes closed shut and left the work to the Pistols.
Gunshots echoed in the backstreet. Before they died off, you heard the loud thud of something falling onto the concrete.
You couldn’t dare to open your eyes until you called Primadonna back into you.
Taking a big step forward, you dropped the gun at the sight of Quattro’s lifeless body. You could see exactly where the bullet pierced through his skull. Pistols clearly didn’t want to risk Mista’s life because they were ready to take a life to save their user.
The pasta carbonara you ate earlier made its way back into your mouth but you had to swallow it all down and check on your teammate instead.
Pistols were gone, which worried you the most. If he was dead you’d never forgive yourself for hesitating to shoot the man and for letting history repeat itself like when you half-assed your job to protect your Capo.
You’d never admit it out loud, but when the newbie joined the team, you’d grown fond of him almost too much. Mista was nothing but kind and nice to you, so seeing him bleeding from his head while lying motionless made your blood run cold. You couldn’t hear the Pistols anymore-
Your eyes widened as your breathing became erratic and uneven.
Focus.
Focus.
Focus.
You had to focus, even if someone was unconscious you could hear them, unless they were dead. Mista-
There was a thick, bitter smell of blood in the air, filling your lungs every time you breathed and also filling your mouth with a metallic taste.
The old phone’s frame felt heavy in your pocket. You managed to take it out and stared at it for a second before finally calling for help.
~~~
“Huh?” You lifted your head to look at Fugo.
“Are you hungry?” he repeated himself.
“No,” you mumbled.
You heard him sigh but tried to ignore him. He wasn’t mad, there wasn’t a single trace of irritation in his tone like it usually would. He didn’t talk or complain about your stupidity as he used to either. Fugo only gripped the steering wheel tighter and sped up. It was awkward being in the same car for both of you.
Fugo certainly didn’t want to be alone with you tonight. He wanted to be back at the hospital with Mista with Buccellati but he was ordered to take you back home. In your opinion, he cared for the new guy more than he cared for you and you couldn’t blame him. Mista almost died because of you.
If you hadn’t -
“Sex Pistols have minds of their own. Your desperate call must’ve brought Mista’s consciousness back and brought out Pistols to help you.”
That was Bruno’s theory or at least that was what he told you to tell others but you knew the truth. Mista wasn’t conscious at that time, not at all. If he were you’d surely hear some of his thoughts.
Even when Bruno came to your rescue after your phone call, you still couldn’t hear Mista, no matter how much you focused on him.
You shook your head to get rid of the thoughts. If you could, you would use Primadonna on yourself to bury everything that happened on the mission deep within your memory, where you’d never find them, and pretend it never happened.
All of your frantic thoughts started giving you a headache, you felt like you could vomit if you looked out the window, and everything felt out of place. Fugo didn’t talk or scold you for not protecting Mista or even said anything about how childish you were about killing someone. You were in a gang, the biggest one in the whole of Italy, it was inevitable that you’d kill someone sooner or later, you were just overreacting. You desperately needed Fugo to yell at you for being this stupid, for having feelings, or just anything but he remained oddly quiet.
Thus getting out of the car felt like the biggest relief. It was smothering to sit in the same vehicle as Fugo when he wasn’t himself. (Unbeknownst to you, he felt the same.)
Every step you took on the stairs to your apartment echoed throughout the building. You stumbled on a step and the sudden sound, which didn’t resemble a gunshot in the slightest, took you back to the backstreet of the bar nevertheless.
Letting out a sharp gasp, your hand went to your mouth. You gagged at the memory of the smell of blood and the sight of Quattro’s lifeless body with blood gushing out from his forehead.
“I got you,” Fugo said, wrapping an arm around your shoulders and helping you walk the last bit of the stairs.
You couldn’t help but lean on to him, your head hit his warm chest. “I’m sorry.”
He knew why you were apologizing but he chose to ignore it and it made you cling to him. There was nothing more horrifying than your genuine words getting ignored by Fugo.
As you were about to repeat yourself, Fugo’s hand holding you gently rubbed on your shoulder, silently telling you it’s alright.
If it were Narancia, he’d embrace you tightly before telling you how you shouldn’t worry about it. Mista wasn’t dead and if you hadn’t killed Quattro he wouldn’t be alive. Mista got hurt all the time but it was thanks to you that he was alive.
Bruno would’ve told you how brave you were for killing another man to save someone close to you. He’d praised you for being alive and shooting someone dead.
Abbacchio would most definitely do the same, he’d pat you on your back and tell you simply how you did a good job.
But Fugo didn’t do any of that.
“Having feelings,” Fugo said. “…doesn’t make you weak.”
It was nothing fancy, but you felt like he truly understood you better than anyone.
In that quiet moment of Fugo rubbing on your shoulder felt more genuine than anyone could ever do. Fugo didn’t know how it was to go through the motions after killing someone, he had killed more than anyone on his team. He had this talent of not showing any of his emotions but his anger. It wasn’t hard for him to get over the guilt of killing someone but he knew how hard it was for you to accept that you took a life and how much it affected you. He didn’t praise you for killing someone or scold you for not protecting Mista better. You were nothing but a delicate flower in his eyes. A beautiful flower that was caught up in something dirty and twisted. You didn’t belong here.
“Narancia won’t be back until tomorrow,” Fugo informed you before hanging his coat, a long period with no further response he tried to start a conversation. “I’d bought cannoli from the bakery down the street, you can have them if you want.”
“Thanks but I think I’ll go to bed,” you said, looking up to him. He was, for once, already making eye contact. You offered him a broken smile, kindly refusing to eat his pastry goods.
“Goodnight.” You took a step to walk past him but Fugo grabbed you by the wrist. It hurt, his grip was way too tight. “Fugo,” you said, trying to pull your hand away. “Loosen your grip a little.”
He ignored what you had said. “I need to ask you something,” he stated.
Whatever he had to say, it had to be important. Or why would he-
“Why did you call Buccellati but not me?” he asked.
You’d think he was joking if he didn’t look so serious about it. You chuckled, half because it was unlike him to be asking a pointless question and half because you couldn’t believe he was even asking the question. But the way he frowned, it looked like he actually wanted an honest answer.
“He’s the team leader and I trusted him to be able to help-”
“You don’t trust me?” His brows furrowed as he talked. “Am I not strong enough?” His grip tightened even more, you yelped in pain but Fugo either didn’t hear it or chose to ignore your cries. “Answer me,” he demanded.
You’d felt hesitant to admit how hurt you’d been by his actions until today. Fugo had never even shown you Purple Haze as a moment of solidarity and trust. He’d openly told Buccellati and everyone that he didn’t want to work with you from the get-go. He scolded you for almost everything and called you arrogant. You’d been nothing but kind to him yet he never returned the favor.
Your lower lip started trembling and you desperately tried to pull your hand away from him. Goosebumps erupted on your skin and your blood ran cold. "Fugo," you whispered and took a moment to steady yourself. “I trust you.”
"Then why didn’t you call me?" he spoke as calmly as he could manage.
“I was scared!” you yelled at him and took a sudden step back to free your hand away from his grip but it was useless. Fugo was far stronger than you. “I don’t know anything about you other than how much you hate me.” A wave of hesitation washed over you but you had to tell him how much he irritated you. “You showed the newbie your Stand but you still haven’t shown Purple Haze to me. How can I trust someone who’s never shown me their Stand?”
Fugo let out a breath he didn’t know he was holding. “What does that thing have to do with anything?” he asked, even though he knew where you were going with this. He took a couple of steps to close the distance between the two of you. “I trust you,” he said before letting go of your hand and reaching for your face. “I care for you more than you think and I’m so glad you’re safe.” The warm flesh of his palm cupped your cheek gently as his thumb slowly caressed your soft skin.
“Then show me,” you said quietly. The hairs on your neck rose as you let Primadonna step out of your body. “Show me Purple Haze, Fugo.”
Fugo did nothing but stare at you in confusion. “Why are you so persistent over this?”
People who didn’t want to show their Stands to others hid things from them. You knew it the best since someone you looked up to and trusted with your entire life betrayed you. Panettone hadn’t shown you his Stand until the day he finally decided to get rid of you. Although you trusted him and were devoted to him like many other gang members, he didn’t trust you enough to show you his Stand.
If Fugo trusted you, he’d show you, Purple Haze.
You focused on getting into his head. If it worked on Mista, it’d work on Fugo too. What could possibly go wrong?
“What are you doing?” he asked when he realized that you were looking into his thoughts. He retrieved his hand from your cheek and took a step back.
Fugo’s thoughts were like his personality. They were many, he kept tossing them around and there was a lot of yelling, so much so that you wanted to cover your ears even if that wouldn’t do anything.
You couldn’t pick on any of his thoughts other than him trying to figure out what you were trying to accomplish by reading into his mind.
A screeching sound echoed within your mind.
Your eyes widened and you stepped away from Fugo until your back hit the wall. The screeching, more of a roaring, was constant within Fugo but it wasn’t him that was screaming.
It didn’t seem to have a sense of communication, it was roaring like an animal within its user.
Fugo said something but you couldn’t hear him. Purple Haze was growling louder than your own thoughts. How could Fugo ignore his Stand’s cry and think rationally like he always did? You were in Fugo’s mind for only a couple of seconds but you could feel your sanity slipping away from you just from the loud roars of Purple Haze.
Unsure as to whether you’d just let it go, you decided on doing it. There was no room for hesitance if it worked the worst thing that could happen was that Fugo would hit you but if this worked, that also meant Primadonna was far more powerful than you’d thought.
“Purple Haze.”
You could hear Fugo’s frantic thoughts again, the screeching had stopped. Within his mind, he was yelling at you for even trying to call his own Stand out. Primadonna couldn’t do that you know, your consciousness made you believe you used Sex Pistols to shoot the man because otherwise, you could never handle the heavy guilt of killing someone. Fugo knew that had to be it. He was the one to tell Buccellati to tell you how you should never talk about this to anyone.
That had to be it… Right?
All of a sudden Fugo’s thoughts disappeared for a moment. In this dead silence within your mind, you heard breathing, someone heavily breathing right next to your ear.
Your first instinct would be to turn and look at the source of the strange noise but instead, you looked up to Fugo right in front of you. The color had drained from his face, there was raw despair in his eyes. His mouth opened to shout something but everything was moving in slow motion and all you could hear was the loud breathing sound.
Aside from all that, you felt a warm breath against your neck. The wall you thought you were leaning onto seemed to become something firmer, changing texture and size. Two heavy hands placed themselves on each side of your shoulders, pulling your back flush against its chest.
Fugo yelled again but your mind was in a blur. You couldn’t think or hear anything, your ears were still ringing from the loud roars of- Purple Haze!
It’d work!
With renewed curiosity, you looked up to see the Stand you brought out of Fugo. The second your eyes met with the patchwork of a zombie’s bloodshot eyes, you smiled brokenly.
“Get away from it!” Fugo’s screams finally managed to get to you.
Purple Haze looked nothing like you’d imagined.
You knew he’d be purple and something scary looking but nothing could’ve prepared you for it.
Purple Haze’s mouth and neck were sewn in an odd way. From between the stitches connecting its lips together, it gritted its teeth and a strand of drool hit your face, sliding down onto your neck.
You turned around to get a better look at it but Purple Haze was blurring. He was being called back by its user. It gave a death glare to Fugo, growling loudly to show its displeasure but once its eyes landed back on you, it was different. Its peeled back eyes got softer, it managed to close its mouth and stare at you with an overwhelmingly friendly way.
Purple Haze disappeared in an instant as he appeared and before you could call Primadonna back into yourself, Fugo slammed your back onto the wall. “Do you want to die?” he yelled but he sounded more worried than angry. “Don’t you ever think before doing something?”
“I’m sorry,” you said. “I just had to see him.” As you dismissed Primadonna, another wave of despair washed over him. “He could’ve killed you! I can’t control him properly!” He shook you by your shoulders before suddenly embracing you. “Don’t do whatever you did before to bring that creepy guy out again.”
All you did was to rapidly nod and bury your face into Fugo’s chest. You didn’t know why he was so cautious of Purple Haze but there had to be a reason and you couldn’t question him about it when he kept murmuring about how relieved he was that it didn’t hurt you.
“I’m glad you’re safe from that thing,” he said suddenly. Pulling himself back to plant a chaste kiss on your forehead. Dumbfounded by his sudden change in tone and mood you froze. Fugo had never been this close to you or even told you anything about what he thought of others without insulting them.
He moved closer but you didn’t notice it. All you could think of was his thumb sliding over your bottom lip before looking up to see Fugo looking at you with intensity, just as Purple Haze did before.
“I-I love you.” Although there was no need to whisper as it was only the two of you in the entire apartment building, you felt like you needed to.
Fugo snickered, leaning towards you until his lips were against your ear and mimicked your stutter. “I-I love you too.”
He wasn’t planning to tell you about his feelings but as stupid as you were, you managed to get into trouble very often and he didn’t want you to die without hearing how he felt about you.
You let out a shuddered breath when you felt Fugo’s hand sliding down to your neck and onto your breast. “Fugo,” you softly sighed, desperately clinging onto his shirt.
The way you called out his name was heaven to him. He’d always imagined a moment like this with you. It was nothing but a relief for him that Primadonna didn’t work on people who weren’t in your view. Or you’d hear the very thoughts he had whenever he was around you. But at night, Fugo’s thoughts about you couldn’t be suppressed while his lips were chanting your name as he had his hand wrapped around his cock on his bed. Stroking himself to the thought of your pretty face, fantasizing about how he’d rearrange your guts the next time you irritated him.
His hot breath that was warming your cheeks slowly moved to your neck, his hand started kneading your breast over the shirt you were wearing. Warm and soft lips set a kiss on the pulse point of your neck. Having had placed his hand on your waist while you were busy rubbing your thighs together in anticipation, he slowly let his hand move down the curve of it and settled on your ass to grab a handful of the soft flesh. When you let out a moan, suddenly Fugo had the urge to smile, so he did. You could feel it on the sensitive skin of your neck. “Ever since the day I met you at Libeccio all I ever wanted to do was stuffing my cock down your throat,” Fugo spoke against your skin before pulling himself back to look at your face with the same overwhelmingly hazy eyes as before.
“Me too,” you said, your body trembling in excitement.
Fugo hadn’t expected you to react the way you did or reveal your honest feelings to him. When he had made a move on you he’d thought you’d push him away or even go as far as to slap him, not confessing your own feelings.
He could lose control of himself at any given moment. He knew it was normal to be overwhelmed by the sight of his crush hiking her skirt up and giving him a look of desperation, begging for him to fuck her… but he had to get it together.
Grabbing your hand, Fugo led you to your bedroom. You couldn’t help but giggle on the way. The thought of Fugo needing you so badly that he took you to the closest room made you bubble up with excitement.
Everything that had upset you today disappeared when Fugo sat on your bed. In the dim light of your small night lamb, his features looked sharper than they ever had. You’d always thought he was wildly attractive but tonight he looked different.
Fugo had shown you a side of him that you didn’t know existed. He was jealous of you being with others, you felt stupid for not noticing it until today. It was obvious he liked you the most, he didn’t ‘snap’ at you as he did at Narancia. You’d never gotten stabbed with a fork or got called a brainless piece of shit by him.
His worries about you had come off way too aggressive because of the way he worded them but it didn’t matter anymore. At least not when your hand was sliding up his thigh.
A smile spread on his face as Fugo lifted his hips to let you slide his pants down and took a deep breath to steady himself. His cock twitched with the idea of him devouring the lousy idiot like he always desired but you had other plans.
You buried your face between his legs, rubbing your face on his inner thighs as you kneeled in front of him. You weren’t sure if you’d pulled his underpants down along with his pants or if he were wearing any, to begin with, but when you lifted your face to look up at Fugo, you saw his cock hovering over your face.
A small bead of precum ran down from the tip towards the base. Not wanting to let it go to waste, you licked it off. His cock throbbed rapidly and got bigger as you slid your tongue over a vein, following it up to the tip soaked in precum.
With a loud but soft sigh, Fugo spoke. “Come up.” You complied happily, sitting on his lap. Decidedly making a move first, you unexpectedly kissed him on the lips and slid closer to his crotch, moaning into his mouth while rubbing yourself on his crotch.
Fugo tried to catch up with your kissing by deepening it, forcing his tongue inside. Without knowing what he was doing, he tried to push his tongue down your throat. You grabbed a handful of his hair and yanked his head to the side. You took control of the kiss by sucking on his tongue and his plump lips.
One of his hands reached to your thigh, softly caressing the soft skin with his thumb as his other hand wrapped around his cock and slowly stroked it. Your lips on his made his head spin.
Pulling away from the kiss, you hastily took off your shirt. When you reached to take your bra off you saw Fugo unbuttoning his shirt to get rid of it hurriedly.
It made you glad knowing that you weren’t the only desperate one at this moment.
Your bra hit the floor in a silent thud and next came your skirt. You found yourself fumbling with the zipper of your skirt to get naked as quick as you possibly could but after you managed to get out of your skirt Fugo threw you onto the bed.
You giggled and laid on your back, watching Fugo slowly climb on top of you. Once settled between your legs, he gently slides your panties off and puts them aside after taking a whiff of them.
“You’re gross,” you whined and led your hand down to your pussy. “Take me now,” you spoke as you spread your folds to show him how wet you were.
Fugo couldn’t take his eyes off the small strands of your juices that had leaked down onto your thighs breaking as you spread your legs wider. Your pussy was calling for him and who was he to ignore its needy call.
Pumping his cock to the sight of you laid bare naked in front of him on your bed, he crawled closer and used his cock to massage your folds. Dragging the tip of his cock from your clit to your entrance repeatedly before suddenly shoving his cock deep inside of you.
Your toes curled while his cock stretched your walls without any preparation. You opened your mouth to tell him to take it slow but a sudden thrust of his hips shut your mouth. Every thrust left you moaning and gasping for air.
“Fugo,” you sighed.
He grunted your name in response but didn’t stop fucking you frantically. Every time his hips slammed into yours the sound of skin slapping onto skin echoed within your room and made you feel unable to take control of yourself. Fugo was overpowering you with each thrust and that’s what he wanted.
He wanted to remind you of your place by being deep inside of your guts, destroying you as you whimpered and cried out helplessly like the dumb, lousy whore you were.
“Fugo,” you tried again, this time moaning out his name in need. “Slower.”
“No,” he snapped at you before he grabbed your hands that were miserably trying to push him on his chest and placed them on his shoulders instead. He leaned in closer to you, giving you the chance to wrap your arms around his neck to kiss him.
The sloppy kiss left you covered in his drool but you managed to slow his pace. Fugo’s lips trailed down kisses from your lips down to your chest. He’d stare at your tits every day and finally, he’d got to see them like this tonight. A shiver ran up his spine as he took your tit into his mouth, sucking on the nipple while slowly moving inside of your cunt.
Your pussy clamped around his cock thanks to his slow but enticing strokes You started to slam your hips into his, hoping to get him to move as furiously as before. Your fingers twirled around his long hair when your legs started shaking.
Fugo got the hint and nibbled on your tit for one last time before picking up his animalistic pace once again. He growled out your name, similar to Purple Haze’s roar.
He found it cute how wildly you shook your hips to get his attention, he’d try to tease for it but his cock started twitching. Gradually his pace got faster and stronger, with each thrust he started loudly grunting out your name. You wrapped your legs around his waist as you were unable to hold onto anything but him, you were moving with him.
It was more than an orgasm when he pushed his cock deep inside of you for the last time, filling your unprotected fertile pussy with his creamy cum. Fugo was smiling down at you and this was the first time you’d seen him smile like that. You were desperate to see it again.
“You’re mine,” Fugo said, leaning forward to give you one last sloppy kiss and pulling out of you.
You couldn’t help but agree.