Curate, connect, and discover
Jjba Part 5 - Blog Posts
you're making him shy..
(read more)
><! is for u
i’m sorry for being an asdhole but i still am his real wife soooo shrug sorryyyyyyy sorry im off my meds sorrryyyy
shh… babygirl… it’s okay… we can share him…
cuz i want u too😉😉😻
chat is this rizz
YOU GUYYYYYYYSSSSSS OHMYGOSHHHH!!!!
ITS ABBACCHIO’S BIRTHDAY AAAAAAHAHAHA
I LOVE MY HUZZ ABBACCHIO SO MUCH!!!!
HAPPY BIRTHDAY TO YOU
HAPPY BIRTHDAY TO YOU
HAPPY BIRTHDAY DEAR HUZZY ABBACCHIOOOOOO
HAPPY BIRTHDAY TO YOUUUUUU!!!!
YAYYYYYYY CAKE AND PRESENTS CAKE AND PRESENTS LOTS OF CAKE AND PRESENTS FOR ABBACCHIO
LOVE HIM SO MUCH!!!! (i’m his #1 fan.)
HELP I LITERALLY WROTE THIS AND I WAS AB TO POST IT BUT I THINK I GOT SIDETRACKED NOW ITS 1AM OF THE 26TH😭😭 JUST PRETEND ITS STILL THE 25TH SHHH🤫
anyway i love the huzzy sm💜💜💜💜
ohmygosh these r so gorgeous im screaming ohmygosh ohmygosh ohmygosh this is so fire i think i ascended into heaven just now wow wow wowowwwowowowowww ohmygoodness what the freak my eyes are blessed
A throwback and build up to the present day, to which I have finished painting the part five poster. This has been four years in the making…mainly due to the fact that I needed the inspiration to hit. Although I don’t draw as much Jojo as I used to, I still love the series dearly. And research for these posters has been a lot of childhood nostalgia from old gothic novels to Drew Struzan styles movie posters.
And so for part 6 it will likely take me a long time lol…who knows. But it’ll be a lot of fun to paint!
My JJBA Oc!!!
i finally finished making my jjba oc!!! :D don’t mind my crappy artstyle lmao but besides that i’m lowkey proud!!! i did a lot of research on inspo that araki used to try and make her more accurate. i’m not sure if i succeeded with that or not but it’s whatever 😭😭
here are the references and inspo pics i used!!! ↓
OKAY SO IM MAKING A STAND FOR MY JJBA OC
i wanna call it One Last Breath
reference to Creed🙏🙏🙏🙏 i love creed
anyway idk what it’s ability would be tho and idek how to design it ughffghghgh heeeeellllpppp idk what to do what the farrrtttt
i want him to lay in my lap while i play with his hair!!! i love him so much!!!
ugh look at my baby😕😕😕 i love him so much it’s not funny anymore
ugh guys i love abbacchio so much like i just wanna lay in bed with him and hold him close to my chest and play with his hair and give him smoochies and hold his hand and do the THUMB THING ohmygosh i love him so much he’s such a cutie patootie i literally cannot!!! he did nothing wrong!!! i love my baby abbacchio!!!👩🍼
LIKE JUST LOOK AT HIMM AWWW CUTENESS AGGRESSION 🤗🤗🤗🤗🤗🤗
i’m pissing myself i need more abbacchio x reader content or ill explode and im afraid of character.ai and wattpad has barely anything and i’ve already read everything on there and ao3 is freaky as hell i swear there’s an abbacchio x reader vore thing that scared me where is the normal content bro i’m gonna cry not trying to sound like a brat guys i just love abbacchio and reading fanfics is my specialty
sometimes i just really like to think that Golden Wind is just a fantasy-reality type show that the Bucci gang was just acting in but like yk just to comfort myself because my huzzy wuzzy babygirl abbacchio died in it yk🤗
(i’m going insane kill me now)
rewatching Golden Wind for the 3rd time and i swear i just can’t accept that my glorious king abbacchio is DEAD. like wdym?? he’s alive i swear!!! that was just a clone of him i promise!!! i actually kidnapped him and took him to my humble abode!!! he’s not dead!!! HE’S NOT DEAD NO PLEASE HE’S NOT DEAD
real asf!!!
just letting everyone know that if i had to get initiated into bucciaratis gang by drinking abbacchios piss, i’m drinking every drop straight from the tap!!!
hey so i’m genuinely shedding tears now!!!
End of canon part 5 headcanon
Whenever Mista starts thinking about how he can no longer talk to Narancia he will just send him a text message. Maybe a photo or a joke or something stupid that happened that day. Maybe even a “I miss you loser”. And it helps because well sometimes you send a text and don’t get a response right away, since Narancia isn’t responding he must be busy. He can trick his brain into thinking that everything’s ok, even though Narancia is always so quick to respond, this time he just so happens to be distracted.
And Abbacchio, he never responds to his text messages anyways. Unless it’s super important. So if he just texts Abbacchio stupid shit all is good. Abbacchio not gonna respond. He never did so why would he now? Abbacchios just ignoring him as usual.
And of course buccellatis not responding to his text messages, buccellatis more of a phone call kinda guy. Better to not have mission details typed out anywhere. As long as he doesn’t call him than this is normal behavior for bruno to not respond. And why would he want a response to a text saying “I’m sorry I caused your death” anyways? It was way too scary to send the text in the first place and getting a response would be even scarier. Bruno’s probably really upset with him for sending mission details over text again, which is why he isn’t responding. Giorno tried to explain that it’s not his fault but he’s not buying it. He’s not dead anyways. Just not responding.
He got to talk to them all today, his whole team. even though Narancia, Abbacchio, and Bruno were just over text. They haven’t responded but they got the text. The team is just like it used to be because he talked to all of them.
sue me i LOVE to self-insert w things i love!!! i did a 90’s Versace deep dive just to more accurately make a Golden Wind self-insert!!! 10/10 would recommend!!!
here’s a picture of my cat looking like an alien!!! :p
abbacchio my baby☹️👩🍼👩🍼
Bucci Gang x Reader: How they act when they have a crush
CW: fork stabbing, Trish being a meanie 🥺, spoilers(does that still matter???)
Notes: Hey I decided to do a Bucci gang version of this prompt! I hope it doesn’t seem too rushed: it was supposed to be out BEFORE Valentines Day 🥴 oh well better late than never. 💜 Beryl
Bruno
When the love bug bites Bruno, he holds it in for the sake of professionalism and your safety. To the best of his ability of course.
He gets very protective and uses you missions sparingly. And when you are needed, he is there as your partner. He refuses to let anything happen to you, not just as your Capo but as your secret admirer as well.
He’s the king of chivalry when it comes to you. Of course he takes great care of his team but with you he takes greater care as if you’re as fragile as glass. He opens the door for you, pulls your chair out for you, pours your drinks first, and holds the umbrella for you and demands you stay under it—he doesn’t want you to catch a cold!
He planned on keeping this a secret and just moving on…but ever since that life changing revelation with The Rolling Stones, he must tell you one day before he perishes. He doesn’t want to leave this world wondering what could have been.
Giorno
When Giorno realizes that he has feelings for you, he doesn’t act any differently. But…your days suddenly become a little brighter. You’ll find your favorite flowers addressed to you from a secret admirer. You’ll see friendly stray cats/dogs follow you home from seemingly nowhere. You’ll find your favorite dessert in the fridge for you at the restaurant you all hang out at. So many different things that you can’t explain happening to you without any reason other than to make you smile.
Just being friends/coworkers and watching you from a distance to see your happy face is enough for him. Right now that is.
Abbacchio
When you melt this ice cold goth heart, he’s in denial and he refuses to address it…for a while. He gets jealous easily with seeing the other boys(just Giorno) being around you and interacting with you.
He’s going to swipe you away from the blonde saying he can’t be trusted and demand that he be put on missions with you. He says he’s all about “the mission” but when it comes to your safety, he’s going to put you first! He won’t say it but he definitely does. How many times can you count that he shoved you out of the way from the enemy’s grasp? 20? 30? You should really pay more attention!
Mista
This guy can’t keep a secret no matter how hard he tries. He tries to be a little more hygienic…mainly use more cologne and use deodorant. 🤦♀️ He’s tries to be smooth and tries to hit you with a nice pick up line but it he ends up botching it, leaving you in stitches. It’s not what he intended to do but making you laugh works too! He’ll try to refrain from asking weird questions during dinner time. The last thing he wants to do is gross you out and ruin your meal. Trish already thinks he’s gross and he doesn’t want you thinking he’s gross too. He’s a simple guy and will take things slow. He’ll continue to try and woo you simply by being himself, and if you’re meant for him you’ll fall for him in time.
Narancia
This pure boy wears his heart on his sleeve. When the single brain cell in his head signals that he’s in love, he can barely contain himself. He gets very needy and clingy around you!
He wants to do just about everything with you. He wants to have missions with you, eat meals with you, hang out with you, shop with you, study with you…well, if you call him staring at you and not at the book studying. Fugo is running out of forks you know, you should stop distracting Narancia!
Fugo
It’s pretty obvious that this nerd likes you. His face is always red and he can’t stop stuttering when he tries to talk to you. He’s the smartest member of the group but when it comes to relationships and friendships in general he struggles.
No matter how uncertain he may feel, he’ll do everything to get in your good favors! He wrangles his temper to the best of his ability, (usually by dragging Nara outside where you can’t hear him screaming and beating up the poor boy) and whatever you have a difficult time with or if there’s something you want to get better at, he’s quick to volunteer to be your tutor! Don’t worry if you get any answers wrong, he wouldn’t dream of ever stabbing you with a fork! He has nothing but praises for your hard work and effort.
Trish
When this spicy girl gets a crush on you, she starts to act a bit…spicy. She’ll get annoyed every time you talk, and complain that you’re being annoying. 🥺
She’ll complain about everything even though she, of her own FREEWILL will sit next to you…At the restaurant , the car, the plane, and the sofa. She’ll say you’re sitting too close too her and you’re touching her. Your perfume/cologne is too strong, your music tastes suck, and whine whine whine—-she “doesn't like” you yet she’ll fall asleep and lean on your shoulder like you’re the comfiest pillow ever.
She’ll stop being a little ass and address her feelings eventually.
SCREAMING JUMPING WITH JOY SPINNING AROUND AAAAAAHAHHSHDJFJ ABBACCHIO I LOVE HIM AAAAA
perfect (abbacchio)
⁺ . ✦ . ⁺ jojo's bizzare adventure (abbacchio x reader) ⁺ . ✦ . ⁺
content (18+): nsfw, oh he hates you...
word count: 4.4k
a tune for you: not another song about love (hollywood ending) lol
Moonlight trickled through the open shutters, the alabaster rays of soft light highlighting the room in uniform streaks, interrupted only by the glow of the monitor in front of you. Map after map, tab after tab, click after click, you persist, shuffling through the information as your eyes strain to continue looking at that damned screen. It had been hours – no, days – trying to figure out where this hideout was, and to no avail, a previously unwavering hope staring to dim with every new dead end. The work usually becomes intoxicating when you sink into it, the circuits of your brain firing with dedication and grit, attention usually unwavering. But it was something about tonight; your mind wandered, shuffling through memories like a filing cabinet, searching for some kind of answer.
You never understood why he hated you so much. What had you really done?
It wasn’t as if you were useless, or a delinquent. Undertrained? Perhaps, you could admit that, but your Stand had only awoken a few months prior, after first meeting Bucciarati and Polpo. Since then, you had been nothing short of dedicated. So why?
You rub your eyes, quickly realizing the futility of being caught up on such uncontrollable things. More important was the map in front of you. Of course.
A gentle knock causes your head to snap in the direction of the nearby door, the emptiness of the room creating a hollow echo.
“Come in,” you call curiously, checking your watch. 10:30.
Bucciarati peeks his head around the door with an appreciative and knowing smile, his hand lingering on the door’s handle as he steps into the room.
“Thought we’d check on you,” he starts, now walking towards the desk. “Any progress?”
We?
You tense slightly as you see Abbacchio follow behind Bucciarati, his unreadable eyes scanning the room for a moment before falling on you.
“You should really turn a light on in here… You’re going to kill your eyes,” Bucciarati says, leaning over to snap on the lamp perched on the desk. The unwelcome brightness causes your eyes to flutter shut for a moment before readjusting with a sigh.
“Yeah, you’re right,” you mumble softly with a nod before turning back to the screen. “As for updates… I can tell you where the location isn’t. No progress on where it is, though.”
Bucciarati hums softly, clearly disappointed as his hand moves to his chin in thought. Abbacchio, on the other hand, makes a sound that can only be described as a grumble, before looking away from the screen.
“Not even a general area?” Bucciarati eventually asks.
“Well, depends on how general you’re looking for,” you reply, gesturing to the map. “I’m certain it’s among these streets, however, it’s probably too large to survey. It’s just… a lot of data to go through alone… Sorry.”
“You need another hand?”
“Well,” you tilt your head in thought. “I guess someone else would help… I think alone I can finish in another few days, but it might be quicker if someone else is available.”
“Abbacchio,” Bucciarati speaks, standing up straight and turning to the man beside him. “Help her tomorrow.” Abbacchio scoffs, waving his hand for a moment before replying.
“She said herself she can do it alone,” he retorts, expression hardening with his mumble.
“She also said it would be faster with help. The quicker we know the location, the quicker we get paid. Now,” Bucciarati continues, placing a hand on Abbacchio’s shoulder before turning to walk out of the room. “Both of you can discuss a plan for tomorrow, and then seriously, go to bed. It’s unhealthy to be working so late.”
A light smile tugs at your lips as you nod, grateful to be nearly done for the day. Abbacchio opens his mouth, as if to protest, but quickly closes it and looks away, nodding with a slight huff as Bucciarati leaves, closing the door behind him.
“So,” you clear your throat nervously, shifting the desk chair to the side before turning back to the monitor. “Really what I need is you to read these files, and-”
“How long is this going to take?” Abbacchio interjects in annoyance.
“I… I don’t know. I mean, if you read fast, a couple hours. Just scan the police reports and tell me where the units were in each of them. I’m trying to triangulate the location,” you explain calmly, trying to soothe your beating heart.
“Fine,” he crosses his arms, standing up straight, narrowed eyes darting across your face.
You nod again, standing up from your chair awkwardly as you put the computer to sleep. Quickly organizing the papers sprawled out on the desk, you try to relax your tensed shoulders, secretly hoping he’ll leave, saving you the trouble of having to engage in small talk. And again, with the quick switch of the lamp, the room is left in eerie darkness.
Much to your surprise, he lingers, body rigid with agitation. He clears his throat as you stand up straight, though you want nothing more than to walk out that door, mere feet away from you.
“I’m sorry, I really don’t want to be doing this either,” you nod and speak quietly, trying to be reassuring as if he expected you to say something.
“Don’t. Just, don’t,” he snaps, his voice strained. It was though you could feel his temper slowly running out. You nod, eyes suddenly finding the carpet very interesting as you wait for him to leave the room.
“Why do you have to apologize all the time,” he mumbles, almost under his breath as he steps towards the door.
“What?” you reply, though quickly regret even speaking.
“You always apologize for no reason,” he turns to you, words almost coming out as a growl. “It really pisses me off.”
“Oh, um, I’m sorr-” you pause, swallowing nervously before correcting yourself. “I mean… I’ll avoid it in the future.”
“Why?” his question lingers in the air, and in the darkness, you swear you see him step closer.
“I… I don’t know, I just feel like you’re always angry at me,” you whisper the last few words quietly, as if almost afraid to admit it.
“You don’t know why?” he scoffs, mindlessly cracking his knuckles. “You never react to anything…” his deep voice drops further, each syllable accentuated with irritation.
You take a meek step back, your hands meeting behind your back as you look up at him. Pursing your lips, ridden with anxiety, you can only wonder what exactly you’re doing wrong.
“God, why can’t you just be a normal person? Even now,” he rolls his eyes, stepping closer to you. “You’re too damn respectful even when you shouldn’t be. It’s infuriating…”
“I’m… too respectful?” you tilt your head to the side, confusion peeking through your nervousness. “Should I not be-”
Something in him seemed to snap, your words interrupted as he pushes you back into a nearby wall, firmly holding you in place by your shoulder.
“You’re too quiet and agreeable, all the time,” he spits with anger, his body pressing closer to yours. “It’s as if nothing can make you angry.”
His breathing grows heavier, dark eyes looking down at you as he tightens his grip on your shoulder, his other hand clenching into a fist at his side. You’re trapped, his hips nearly touching yours, your back pressed tight against the wall, the palms of your hands sweating against the paint.
“I…” you begin to studder, the words getting lost in your throat as you look up into his eyes.
He leans forward, his face now inches from yours, etched with anger and irritation, yet somehow… conflicted.
“You never get mad, or raise your voice…” he mutters softly, voice still dripping with frustration.
His other forearm moves beside your head, further restricting your movement and encasing you further against the wall. You can feel his hot breath against your skin, noticing the way his eyes travel across your features and down your body.
You were sure he could hear your heartbeat, the way it raced like a drum, pounding almost painfully at your ribs, the sensation growing more powerful as the seconds passed. His eyes meet yours, his gaze now unwavering. He’s so close. Impossibly close.
“It’s like you’re… perfect. It drives me insane,” he mumbles, voice barely a hushed whisper, the soft brush of air tickling your cheek.
“W- what?” you breathe in shock, eyes searching his face in the darkness. “What do you-”
“Shut up,” he grumbles firmly, his eyes flickering down to your lips in the darkness. His grip on your shoulder was tight, almost painful, as his other and traveled down towards your face.
Silence permeated the room, broken only by the mingling sound of deep breaths. The heat of your bodies nearly pressed together was overwhelming, and his hand on your shoulder was like fire through the fabric of your clothes. You search his face desperately, your vision subconsciously drawn to his lips, which softly part.
Suddenly, his expression softened, more than before and only slightly, as if the last of his anger and frustration had begun their transition to something new. Something more dangerous.
Within a second, his hand gently releases your shoulder, fingers lingering on the seam of your shirt before wandering down your arm, his touch light and tantalizing. His other hand now reaches towards your cheek, pushing back a strand of hair and slowly caressing it with his thumb.
“Tell me to stop…” he whispers again, almost desperately now, his vision clouded with urgency and desire.
The words catch in your throat, if there were any words in the first place. You can’t reply, or rather, you don’t know if you want to. Inhaling sharply at his tender touch, you can’t seem to look away from him, your body frozen in an unfamiliar blend of anxiety and yearning.
“You should… You should stop me,” he insists, his hand now moving to your waist, pressing you further against the wall.
But you can’t.
God, you want to. You want to leave and forget this confusing interaction ever happened but the more you look up to his lips the more you feel yourself melting into his touch. He hates you, and you know that, but something about it makes your chest tighten.
It’s conflicting; you shouldn’t. You really shouldn’t.
He felt your breath hitch, and in a second he was kissing you. It wasn’t smooth or gentle, but rather like a crash of waves, his teeth roughly colliding with yours in desperation. And how it was filled with frustration, as if you both resented it but couldn't stop.
His hand found your scalp, pulling your head back and deepening the kiss further as his tongue finds yours. God, you hated it. Hated the way he tasted so sweet, hated the way his hand ran up your body, hated the way you wanted him so badly, as if starved for his touch.
The kiss grows hungrier with every passing second, unbroken even as you both struggle to breathe, mind and body focused only on the sensation of his touch. You feel yourself grow lightheaded, breaking away for only a moment to gasp before his lips crash against yours yet again.
You’re drowning in the sensation of him, stars dancing along the sides of your vision as your hands move to his chest, fingers sliding gently across the opening of his shirt. He groans, the sound swallowed by the proximity of your lips, just as he shifts his grip to your waist, pulling you closer into him.
A soft moan escapes your lips as you feel your hips press against his, your back instinctively arching and eliciting another desperate sound from him. He whispers your name against your lips, tone laced with agitation and need as he grinds his hips against yours, pushing you further against the wall.
“Abbacchio-” you whimper back, only to be silenced as he plants a wet kiss just below your jawline.
“Just… be quiet,” he grumbles, lips grazing your neck before he rests his forehead against the wall behind you. You hear his breaths coming in uneven, chest heaving up and down almost tumultuously. He sighs, and you feel his grip tightening in your hair, the tug making you wince slightly.
Gently, you run your hand further up his chest, fingers brushing along his collarbone and neck before settling in his hair. You feel him shudder under his touch, his hand on your hip tightening as his fingers dig into your skin.
“S-stop,” he hisses softly, swallowing a groan caught in his throat. “I’m trying to…”
You bite your lip, trying to control your own breathing. He’s right; you shouldn’t be doing this, but it’s far too late for reason and restraint. You continue to run your hand through his hair, coaxing another soft groan from Abbacchio who presses his head further against the wall.
“You… you’re too…” the words seem lost in his mind, his shallow breaths growing more erratic as your palm feels his racing heart, his forehead pulling back from the wall. “Too… perfect.”
With the final husky word, his lips find yours again as his hand tugs your chin up to meet his mouth. It’s different from before: just forceful and passionate, but with an inexplicable affection, conveyed by the way his hand traces along your jawline, thumb softly caressing your cheek as your lips continue to move against his.
Your arms wrap around his neck, tenderly pulling your body closer to his without breaking the kiss. He responds almost immediately, both hands moving to your hips as he moves you into him, grinding himself against you.
Your breath hitches as he continues, shifting his thigh between your legs and granting you more friction. He rocks you back and forth, upper body still pressing you against the wall.
One of his hands moves around your hips, running along the bottom of your thigh as he tugs your leg up, hand fingers resting along the inside of your knee and pulling it to the side of his body. His hips move against yours again, the newfound angle drawing more soft moans from your lips.
Those sounds were his final straw, his other hand immediately grabbing your other thigh and pulling you off the ground and against his body. His lips never leave yours, the kiss growing deeper and more desperate as his patience wears thin, evident by his bulge now pressed against your hips.
He pulls you away from the wall, now urgently stumbling towards the desk which you had left, hands kneading into your skin. Your body feels as though it’s on fire, the feeling of your back being slammed onto the desk barely registering as your senses focus on the friction between your legs as Abbacchio grinds down on you.
He quickly lifts a hand to haphazardly shove aside the assortment of office supplies and technology hindering your ability lie flat, the monitor in particular making a crashing sound as it hits the wooden floor. He pulls you by the front of your shirt back up to him, your mouth smashing against his so hard and desperately you swear it’ll leave a bruise tomorrow.
His forearm rests gently on the desk beside your head as he situates his body between your legs again, tugging you down so your hips are flush with his own. He lets out a soft moan as you wrap your legs around him, the feeling of his muscles tensing on top of you leaving a shiver running down your spine.
“Off, now,” Abbacchio’s deep voice commands with fervor, already beginning to tug at your shirt. You barely have time to lift your arms as he strips it off of you, tossing it to the side with surprising forcefulness.
Without wasting a second, his hand slips under your bra, cupping your breast and making your breath catch in your throat. He uses his other hand to tilt your head back against the desk, now nipping at the sensitive skin below your jaw.
Your body is taught with desire, the feeling of his hand beginning to press and squeeze your skin only heightening the sensation. Your back arches as you feel his hot breath against your neck, his free hand moving behind you to unclip your bra.
As it falls to the side, he pulls back for the first time, eyes roaming across your body with appreciation and an undertone of frustration. His chest heaves as a soft sound catches in his throat, eyes eventually trailing up to meet yours in the moonlight, pupils dilated with hunger.
“Perfect,” he grumbles under his breath, the flattering word spoken with a hint of vexation. You open your mouth to speak but are silenced by the feeling of him unzipping your pants, already pulling them off of you, with your underwear quickly following behind.
You gasp as the cold air hits your skin, heightened by the feeling of him spreading your legs once again. He settles between them, leaning over you with a forearm beside your head, his hand beginning to stroke the hair along your scalp.
His other hand drifts downwards, touch gentle and light as he teases his way along your sternum and stomach. You swallow in anticipation, eyes looking up at his as you bite your lip, silently praying that he can see how badly you need him without having spoken a word.
His gaze grows hazy, his eyes shutting for a brief moment as if controlling himself, before his fingers finally travel lower, right where you want them.
He lets out a soft gasp as he feels you, before mumbling something incomprehensible under his breath. As he begins to move his fingers against you, you find your head digging further back against the hard wood of the desk, your hand coming up to grip his shoulder.
Softly, he slips a finger into you, his knuckles curling gently to find the right spot. You gasp soft and squirm under him, your fingers digging more tightly into him. His other hand quickly finds its way to your chin, his elbow still resting on the table as he jerks your head back to face him, his eyes staring deep into yours.
“You’re going to look at me,” he whispers demandingly before his finger begins to move in and out of you, his thumb shifting to press against your clit.
You moan softly, eyes squeezing shut as you shiver in pleasure; his grip on your chin tightens as his fingers pause yet again.
“I said, look at me,” he hisses, his breath tickling your lips. You slowly open your eyes again, meeting his gaze as your body shivers in returned anticipation.
He continues his ministrations, fingers now moving quicker and deeper inside of you as you force your eyes to remain open, studying his features: the slight parting of his lips, his darkened eyes, the flush on his pale cheeks.
It’s now that you can really see the effect you’ve had on him, even in the low light. His eyes are half lidded, desperate and needy but somehow still frustrated. The soft purple of his lipstick is nearly gone from his lip, the edges smeared messily like watercolors.
You gasp as he pulls his fingers out of you, trailing up your folds before resting on your lower stomach. The emptiness almost hurts, the aching in your body returning as you crave more of his touch.
His lips quirk into a smirk, the expression almost feeling belittling as you lie beneath him, your naked form contrasting his fully clothed one.
“Please,” you whimper softly, biting your cheek in embarrassment as the words leave your mouth.
He scoffs slightly, pushing off of you as the smug expression remains plastered across his face. You sit up, watching as he removes his belt, the sound of metal hitting the floor almost electrifying, the anticipation nearly drawing a sound from your lips.
With an almost evil tantalization, he begins to strip, removing each piece of clothing slowly and with intent, eyes never leaving yours. He watches carefully as you study him, watching as his toned muscles contract as he moves, traveling down just in time to watch him tug at his own boxers.
His demeanor is different now, the anger and desperation from before morphing into a possessive dominance. The boxers drop to the floor, pooling at his ankles and leaving him completely exposed to your wandering eyes.
His weight is on you again within a mere second, his bare skin pressing against yours, the heat of your bodies mingling as he captures your lips into another kiss. You moan softly, indescribably desperate for him as you wrap your legs around his hips again, tugging him closer against you.
Sounds of pleasure fill the small room as he rubs against you, grinding his hips against yours, a final tease before the main show. Your pleading whimper is followed by a breathless beg, the words swallowed as he continues to kiss you with hunger.
He finally positions himself, his hand moving to your hip as he holds your body in place, lips not breaking apart from yours. Gasping against your mouth, his forehead presses against you as he finally slides into you in a single, fluid motion.
You feel a wave of pleasure wash over you, the sensation growing more intense as he begins to move against you, the weight and motion seemingly pushing you further into the desk. Unable to stifle the string of moans that fall from your lips, your hand finds the back of his head, gripping desperately into his hair as your breath caresses his face.
“F-fuck… fuck you,” he whispers, voice cracking in passion as his fingers tighten around your hip, sinking further into your skin. He continues to thrust into you with the smoldering passion of pent-up frustration, movements desperate and disheveled but leaving you a crumbling mess beneath him. It’s electrifying, the feeling of his skin on yours, the sensations of his hands along your body, desperately grasping at you as if he can’t control himself.
He shifts his hand from your hip, running it down to your thigh before hoisting your leg up, hooking your knee around his shoulder. Without giving you a second to adjust, he thrusts harder into you, the new angle sending your head lulling back into the wood, your hair tangling as you squirm and gasp.
Your hands grip desperately at the desk, fingers finding a series of files and feeling them crumple under your forceful touch.
As one of his hands rests on your thigh, keeping your leg held over him, the other wanders across your stomach and up to your chest, giving your breast a squeeze without disrupting the erratic motion of his hips. He groans your name softly, over and over, the words spilling out like a familiar stream, as if second nature.
You feel the pleasure beginning to culminate, the heat building as his hips continue to snap rhythmically forward.
“Don’t… don’t you dare… not yet,” Abbacchio commands through shallow breaths, his pace never faltering.
“I’m- I can’t… I can’t,” you gasp softly, body taught with tension already as you balance on the edge of release, trying desperately to hold on.
He pulls out of you, not even giving you enough time to gasp as he grabs you by the waist, flipping you over on the desk. Your breath catches in your throat as you feel your chest hit the wood and your feet hit the floor, your hands instinctively reaching out again, desperate to hold onto something.
A quiet grumble of need fills your ears, paired with the sensation of fingers tracing along your spine, traveling down before gripping your hips.
You hear a deep sigh before feeling the sensation of him slipping inside you again, your trembled moan filling the silence of the room. He wastes no time, already beginning to move again, arguably with more force than before.
He presses his palm down into your back arching your back further and causing a string of curses to leave his lips. Your eyes screw shut and your fingers grip the edge of the desk, unable to focus on anything other than the heat continuing to build in your body, seemingly freezing your other senses.
You can’t take it anymore; the sounds of his groans, only growing louder, in combination with the sensation of his hand now grazing across your body, nearly sends you over the edge.
Another gasp catches in your throat as his hand slips under your body again, his finger slipping between your folds as his hips continue to snap against you. His touch is firm and slightly careless, clearly inebriated by pleasure.
“You… you’d better…” Abbacchio’s mumbling grows more desperate and incoherent with every passing second, his pace speeding up as his finger continues to move against you.
His name rolls of your tongue, becoming louder and more husky as you reach your climax, your body shuttering softly against the desk and seemingly directing him through his release as well. His hips slow, body almost collapsing on top of yours, his chest now pressed against your back and leaving you pinned against the desk.
He sighs softly, head almost nuzzling into your hair as his hand finds the side of your waist, caressing it gently as he continues to lie on top of you. You hear his breaths subsiding, the rising and falling of his chest against you growing less erratic and more peaceful.
You swallow, blinking as you catch your breath and begin to relax against the wood, the weight of his body on yours offering a strange sense of contentment. His free hand glides up your arm, fingers tracing along your skin before reaching your hand. He slides his palm up your wrist, eventually intertwining his fingers with your own before rubbing tender circles along your skin with his thumb.
You’d hate to break the silence. And what could you even say?
Perhaps it is better to appreciate the moment for what it is, with the cold moonlight now a dim flickering through the shutters, his warm breath against your neck, a feeling of drowsiness tugging at your serene consciousness. Whatever feeling of frustration, pent up feelings of lust and passion that were feeling before, seemed to melt away with the night. This current feeling, the lingering intensity of emotion and sensation, alongside the tranquility and silence of your surroundings, could only be described by one whispered, frustrating, and even desperate word.
Perfect.
SCREAMING WITH JOY
Abbacchio Week 2025 is coming
Abbacchio fans, it's once again time to celebrate our favorite moody mafioso! Beginning March 19th and ending with Leone's birthday on the 25th, we'll have a week of art, fics, cosplay, crafts, any sort of fan creation is welcome! Join the fun, and use #abbacchioweek2025 or tag the blog with your submissions. Happy brainstorming, and we'll see you in March!
✨Some random JJBA things✨
writing angst
me to my favorite character: *making them suffer*
also me: sorry :(
also me right after: *resumes their suffering*
Just finished episode 38 and I am not okay. Firstly, the completed list of nicknames:
1. Boob 1 - Giorno
2. Boob 2/mommy - Buccerati
3. Piss kink/Jazz boy - Abbacchio
4. American flag - Mista
5. Swiss cheese/fatherless - Fugo
6. Mathless/my son - Narancia
7. Yogurt cheese bowl - Fromaggio
8. Pickle Rick/bb himbo - Pesci
9. Mafia daddy - Prociutto
10. Mellon boy/sex offender - Melone
11. Emo jester/daddy - Risotto
12. Devil fruit - Ghiacchio
13. Italian ice cream - Gelato
14. Rich people ice cream - Sorbet
15. Bad bitch/pinky pie- Trish
16. Pigtails - Illuso
17. Torao 2.0 - Jotaro
18. Valentines day but yandere - Boss' stand
19. Squidward - Squalo
20. Femboy - Tiziano
21. Sailor moon/pink twink - Doppio
22. Strawberry shortcake/THIGHS - Diavolo
23. Chocolate/Brocoli - Cioccolata
24. Prosecco/Bodycon - Secco
25. Rejected pharo/Poneglyph - Polnareff
Secondly, my top 5 characters:
1. Bucciarati
2. Risotto
3. Pesci
4. Narancia
5. Secco
As you can see, all of my favourites have kicked the bucket. I am entirely not okay. In other news, I dispise Swiss cheese for breaking up the found family that is the bucci bitches.
Diavolo has some of the sexiest legs to ever grace my screen and I dislike golden experience requiem's design.
I am now moving on to part one bc I have been told that is very important lore wise. I have also been told the English accents are funny as fuck so I'm looking forward to that.
At the behest of a few friends, I have started watching JJBA. I was told I am able to watch it whatever order I want, so I've started with part 5 and I am currently on episode 10. Here are my nicknames for these dudes so far with the actual character names courtesy of said friends:
1. Boob window twink 1 - Giorno
2. Boob window twink 2 - Buccerati
3. Piss kink twink - Abbacchio
4. American flag boi - Mista
5. Swiss cheese - Fugo
6. Mathless - Narancia
7. Yogurt cheese bowl - Fromaggio
8. Pickle Rick - Pesci
9. Mafia daddy - Prociutto
10. Mellon boy - Melone
11. Emo jester - Risotto
12. Devil fruit - Ghiacchio
13. Italian ice cream - Gelato
14. Rich people ice cream - Sorbet
15. Nylons - Trish
16. Pigtails - Illuso
17. Torao 2.0 - Jotaro
HIII THIS IS A ZOMBIE AU ME AND MY FRIEND @spookytoasteroven MADE SMILES AR YOU ALL I WANNA MAKE NARANCIAS SOOOOON BUT THIS IS WHAT I THJNK FUGO WOULD LOOK LIKE AND WHAT HED HAVE
UrGggh just doodles yes im so tired helphMe
Suffering, but pookies gotta pook. So pookies doodle to pook cause pooking pooks.
pho giorno 💗 he will be boiled
Here is another doodle from the silly FugoNara page I did !! :DD
NOW I DONT HARDLY KNOW HER! BUT I THINK I COULD LOVE HER! CRIMSON AND CLOVER!