JJBA x Readers Volume 2

Risotto Nero : Live Show

(let's pretend Bauhaus didn't disband)

(Also I room inspiration from some actual things that happened when I saw Gary Numan last year... We picked the creep table at the bar)

"What do you think?" Offering yourself to him, his eyes swept your form. Risotto thought you looked gorgeous in anything you wore, but tonight was an occasion. You had accepted his invitation to accompany him to a live show!
He was actually really excited, since you hadn't been to a gig before, so he could experience your first time with you and make it absolutely perfect. He was going to see Bauhaus tonight, softcore compared to the shows he usually went to. He had told you to dress down, but because you were going to pubs and bars before the show, you couldn't understand how people got in dressed casually. Risotto was wearing figure hugging skinny jeans with a white belt and black converse, his hoodie huge on his bulging, muscular frame. He had even gone into the effort of wearing makeup, so you couldn't fathom what he was trying to say about 'dressing down'.

Perhaps you did go a little overboard on date night but it's because you wanted to impress him and show him that you cared.

You were wearing skinny leather-look pants and a cream, sparkling top with a marble effect, flowing and fancy.
"Hmm," he grimaced, reaching out to feel the fabric of your top. "No. Too much."
"Too much?!"
"My Love, it's a gig. You need something less... Flashy."
"Less flashy..." you repeated, looking at your wardrobe. "Got it."
"Actually, maybe go a little darker, too." Rummaging in a pile of clean clothes you hadn't worn, pulling out a black, velvet bodysuit, low cut but held together with a lace tie.
"How about this? If I can get it on, that is." Checking the label, you were horrified at the size of it. "God, this is old."
"That's definitely better. If it's too big, we can just adjust it with safety pins."

Hell no. It was tight, especially around your chest area, pushing up your breasts to the point where they almost popped out.
"There's no way I can tie this thing. Not even with pins. Shit."
"Is it comfortable?"
"Yeah, it feels fine. I'm just boob town right now." The metal stand user took the fabric between his finger and thumb, attempting to pull it up over your jugs. You let him, but didn't wipe the sullen look off your face.
"Well, we can at least find a different use for the string." Taking initiative, Risotto took the tiestring and wound it gently around your neck, tying it in a neat bow at the front like a choker. You looked in the mirror, obsessed with how cute it looked.
"Ohh, Ris, that's fucking gorgeous. Oh, you're so smart!"
That certainly stroked his ego. Besides, he couldn't lie to himself - He loved your breasts. Holding them, jiggling them, kissing and biting and marking them, seeing them, pinching your nipples and drawing his fingertips around your areola. Everything. About. Them. "I'm going to wear my Doc Martens, is that okay?"
"Yes!!"

Eventually you left, beginning your small pub crawl before the show.
At the bar, you managed to get a table, but not a seat. Perched on the corner, your boyfriend looked around for anyone shifty looking before ducking down to your height.
"Usual?"
"Yeah," you smiled, kissing him before he went. It was absolutely packed with superfans and goths, smoking, drinking, swearing and generally having a good time. People slammed into you or accidentally knocked you on their way out to smoke, but every band has its groupies, and you had successfully picked their congregation spot. You listened in awe as they bickered over who had the most merchandise, as well as discussing topics like orgies and drugs. You weren't sure if you liked this crowd. Risotto was so sweet and lovely, soft and caring despite that harsh, scary, gloomy exterior... You wondered if you just needed him to stand with you or if these people were just absolute weirdos who wouldn't bother with you.
At last, he came back with drinks, relieving you of standing on the very edge of the table. His stiff frame was like a bollard as he leant on his elbows, stopping others from knocking into him. You slinked your fingers in between his, tilting your head with a weak smile as you gazed into his eyes.
"Are you alright? Seems we picked the creep table."
"Yeah," you giggled stretching up to kiss his lips sweetly but passionately. It was a bit much for public, but you didn't care. Maybe it would make people stay away from you. "I think I'm just nervous."
"There's no need to be, you'll enjoy it."