Jojo's Bizarre Adventure One Shots

|Strawberry Gloss|Pannacotta Fugo

It was late one evening when the team decided to go to Libeccio's to get some dinner. Fugo had gone on a mission and Bucciarati was busy patrolling the neighbourhood. Upon being seated at their usual table, Abbacchio immediately ordered a bottle of his favourite wine. You gave him a look calling him 'stingy' and he reluctantly orders a second one.

Half an hour later, you, Mista, Giorno and Narancia were laughing and talking about nonsense, all while Abbacchio sits quietly, secretly enjoying the commotion coming from his four younger teammates, but he would never tell you that. The table was on its third bottle of wine, and there were no signs of stopping. 

Fugo walked in, coming from an exhausting mission. He looked at the scene before him, puzzled. The group never really drank too much, always wanted to keep their minds sharp, even after they came of the legal drinking age. You caught Fugo's wandering eyes and smiled wildly at him, applying a new coat of fresh lip gloss. 

"Oi, (f/n), it's just going to come off again," Mista says. "You're gonna waste it."

You glared at him. "Don't tell me when I can and can't apply my lip gloss. It's a good time right now anyway." Mista looked at you in bewilderment and then saw Fugo standing at the archway. He smirked to himself.
"Is that the one that was always out of stock?" Fugo asks, coming to your side. You light up in his remembrance.
"Yes! It was in stock for like 30 seconds and I managed to order one! It definitely lives up to it's name." He chuckles in response.
"(F/n), tell him what flavour it is," Mista says from beside you.
"It's strawberry," you say.
"Oh, my favourite" Fugo says, chuckling.
"Want a taste?" you ask seductively. Fugo gulps and lightly blushes.
"How many drinks has she had?" he asks aloud.
"Not enough."

~~~

You wake up, groggy and with a mild headache. You open your eyes and blush a deep crimson red. Right in front of you is a sleeping Fugo, his hair a shaggy, beautiful mess. Your legs are intertwined with his, both still in last nights outfits. You sit up and look at the sight around you. You're on the living room floor. Narancia's body laying horizontally just inches over Fugo's head. Mista on the other hand, is beside you, head towards your back, splayed. His hair oddly full of orange spots. Abbacchio, of course, had claimed the couch and is sleeping comfortably. A sharp looking Bucciarati walks in, trying to hide a smile at the scene. 

"Oh good, you're up. Wake up the others, we have an important trip today," he says.

"Where to?" you ask. 

"I'll tell you all once you're ready." You nod. "And you'll want to get yourself cleaned up as well." You raise one eyebrow. He hands you a small mirror laying on the table beside him. You take a look at yourself and gasp. A rainbow of colours sat awkwardly on your hair. There was blue, green, red, purple and lots of orange. The colours were faded, probably from the friction of your hair and the carpet, but still noticeable. 

"What happened last night?" you asked Bucciarati. 

"You mean, you don't remember. Were you guys that intoxicated?" You try to think back to the previous night. Flashes of scenes come together that don't fully create a story. It hurts your head to even try. "Here," your leader says, handing you a small sandwich, water and a pain reliever pill. You thank him and take the contents.

"Where's Giorno?" you ask.

"Getting some preparations in order. He should be back soon."

"He wasn't here with us," you state, starting to remember. Bucciarti looks up at you and shakes his head. 
"No he wasn't. He was with me."
"Right, he went with you on some mission."
"Correct." The pieces started floating back together as you finished your meal. . .