JJBA Oneshots

Guido Mista; Beautiful Mistakes.

A/N: TW; Jealousy, Yandere! Mista, Physical violence, asphyxiation, homicide.
I read a oneshot like this a few years ago, way before I began writing on my own. Unfortunately I do not remember the original author, but Beautiful Mistakes by Maroon Five ft. Megan Thee Stallion reminded me of it, so I decided to write my own rendition. This might be a pretty long read, so have fun! I'm quite proud of how this oneshot turned out!

--

Heavy breath hitting bare necks, your skin melting and blending, heat. The sheets stick.

A loud, ecstatic roar, and a fresh breath of relief.

A beautiful mistake.

"This is the last time, Mista." You poised, buttoning your jeans around your waist after you detangled yourself from the blankets.

He had heard this too many times. Too many, to count on his fingers and toes combined. It had been three years, after all. Three years of sneaking behind your husbands back, which actually hadn't been very hard to do.

He couldn't help but smirk. "I know."

Your brows furrowed. "I'm being serious!." You slugged on your black, calf-high boots.

"I know."

Silence, you bit your lip and ruffled your fingers through your disheveled hair.

"Why don't you stay a little?," The still-naked man invited. His jet-black hair matched yours, chaotic. Charming dark-brown eyes watched you move with much adorement. "We could have a few cold ones, order a pizza, watch some movies."

"I can't," You spoke, pulling your hair into the neatest ponytail you could manage. "I'm having dinner with him tonight."

"Oh yeah?." Mista stood to his feet and positioned the band of his boxers around his hips.

"Mhm." You hummed.

"So, where's he taking you?." He chewed the inside of his cheek.

"Do you really want to know?."

"I wouldn't have asked if I didn't want to know, right?." He slipped his shirt over his head, and muscular chest. You averted your gaze, and bore your eyes through the floor of his apartment.

"IL PIACERE."

"Oooh," He wiggled his eyebrows. "That's expensive, isn't it?."

You rolled your eyes, and began collecting your things, shoveling them into your purse.

"You know, mi amore," Muscular arms wrapped around your waist as he pulled you closer into him from behind. His voice was husky and hot in your ear. "I can take you out places, too."

"It's not about that," You waved him off. "I have to go, Mista."

"Whyyyyy?," He whined, crossing his arms as you started for the door. "What's the worst he's going to do if you don't go? Blow up your phone? He wouldn't even know where you'd be."

"Mista, I'm not going to do that. I'm not staying."

"Why?," He simply questioned. "Why."

You looked at him over your shoulder.

"Because," You started. "I love him."

He was quiet, regaining himself from the blow that had just went to his chest. Your hand grasped the doorknob.

"Well, call me later, alright?."

The door closed before you responded.

He sighed, shoulders slumping in dissapointment. Guido Mista made his way over to his stain-less steel, smaller-than-average fridge. His hand wrapped around the cool, crisp glass bottle of his favorite brand of beer.