Boys are Idiots ⭐︎ Guido Mista x Reader

Feels Fine

The air is hot and humid, the blankets stick to your legs as you toss and turn for what feels like the thousandth time. Moonlight filters atmospherically through the windows, illuminating the specks of dust floating softly in the room.

The image of Mista's shocked face as he burst into the bathroom a few hours ago is burned into your retinas. You can almost see it before you; his wide eyes housing focused black pupils, and a stare of either judgement or perversion.... Whether it was one or both, you aren't quite sure. His stiff posture and furrowed eyebrows definitely didn't help. But what's of most concern to you is the words that had come out of his stupid mouth.

"You fucked the boss?!"

You sigh loudly in pure frustration.

Why does he have to be so blunt? The way he said that, God, that's so humiliating...! That idiot scared me so much that I dropped my phone in the bath!

Your face flushes red as the heat of the summer night attacks you from the outside in. Your thighs rub against each other, the sweat glistening on your body as you toss and turn once again. The room's silence taunts you, almost begging you to do something... It's nearly unbearable as the earthy smell of Mista stuck on his pillows and bedsheets batters you like the crack of a whip, your fingers becoming braver and bolder as they travel down your belly.

This is pathetic.

And it really is. You groan, reaching for your stupid flip phone that was responsible for all your problems, strewn carelessly on the bedside table. The blue light stings your eyes as you flick it open.

--- MESSAGGI ---
TRISH
MISTA
> GIORNO
LANDLORD
✎ ------------------
✎ ------------------

You scrunch up your nose as you mess with the slightly water damaged phone's annoyingly stiff buttons, crafting a message. You feel increasingly self aware with each letter you type.

--- GIORNO ---
SATURDAY ... 1:43 P.M.
YOU: THE MOVING TRUCK
YOU: IM SENDING IT TO URS
GIORNO: OK
GIORNO: COME 2 MINE
---
TODAY ... 4:01 A.M.
YOU: (DRAFT) I NEED U

You stare at those three words on the tiny screen, and they almost stare back. 'I need you'. It's a beg for attention, a cry for affection, a short phrase that encapsulates all that is wrong with your stupid horny brain as the scent of Mista all over the bed suffocates you.

The room fills with the sound of gentle rustling of the blankets and your quickening breaths, as the phone slips from your hands and falls onto the ground next to your bed with a thud.

———

Golden sunlight pours into the large bedroom from the balcony, spotlighting tiny dancing dust bunnies floating aimlessly in the air. The crisp summer morning sings its natural ambiance; the cries of the songbirds, the gentle sway of the trees, and the humming of the beetles. A strong, earthy scent of rosemary wafts throughout the house.

Giorno stands at his mirror, his fingers slick with gel as he furrows his eyebrows in focus, intricately shaping the little rigatoni swirls crowning his head. The sound of an obnoxiously loud engine approaches his house, followed by several angry-sounding BEEP-BEEEEEPs.

"Aye..." Giorno mutters under his breath as he buttons up his magenta blazer, elegantly striding down the stairs.

He pulls open the double doors at the front of his house with all the might stored in his slender build, and takes in the sight of the huge truck, the engine whirring as it waits at his front yard. A slightly short and chubby man scratches his stubble as he looks up at Giorno. He squints at the clipboard in his hands, then back up at Giorno.