JOJO Smut Collection

Seducing a Drug Lord with Fugo |Part 1|

A/N: AU in which the events that transpired after Giorno joined Passione never happened. You and Fugo are in your early twenties. CW: blood, smoking, death, sex... so 18+ for obvious reasons.

Dedicated to Naranciaasupremacy [<3 thank you for your support hun!]

Blood.

Blood that was not all yours.

You could taste the metal and salt tang of it in your mouth. It was in your hair, turning the h/c strands dark red. It was like you had bathed in it and no matter how many times you rubbed your face, it still stung your eyes. The world was filtered through a crimson haze. With the pain wracking your body, it was a miracle you were even able to stumble your way through the streets of Italy to the safe house.

The door was locked. You cursed and spat the congealed blood encrusting your lips on the cobbled walkway. Pick it open, need something to pick it open, you thought to yourself as Pannacotta Fugo groaned at your side. His arm was slung over your shoulder. His feet were dragging. You had been snapping your fingers in front of his face, saying bitchy things to arouse his anger. Anything was better than the pale, drawn look on his face. The bandage had slipped from the raw gash in his forehead. His breathing was slow, too slow, like he was already dead.

A trail of red behind you led all the way back to Abramo de Luca's house.

Where it had all fallen apart.

How the hell had you gotten to where you were now?

~

Bruno Bucciarati was a busy man.

He had places to be, enemies to defeat, allies to recruit.

But when the Boss of the Passione Gang ordered him to take on a mission, he had shifted his priorities. To take down a rival drug gang would satisfy the Boss's superiority complex, but it would also halt the production and distribution of drugs. At least in one area of Italy. Completely stopping the drug trade would require a lot more manpower and time, the two of which Bruno did not have at his disposal.

He did have his squad. Once he had learned the objective of the mission, he had formulated a plan. A plan that would require two of his most skilled subordinates:

Y/n, an abrasive but competent member of the gang. Her mouth would open before her brain would consider the consequences. Sometimes her fists were even faster. Like Bruno, she had killed a gangster and then gotten roped into the whole business under the guise of "protection". Bruno had settled in the best he could, but Y/n resisted. She aborted missions when things got too dicey or she felt uninterested.

"Not worth my time," she would say, flicking her cigarette to the ground and crushing it under her heel before walking away.

Needless to say, it would be difficult recruiting her.

And it would be made even harder because of her assigned partner, Pannacotta Fugo. They butted heads to the point that Bruno had to keep them separated. He had considered reassigning Y/n to another squad, but she got along with everyone else. And her skills were too valuable to give up.

The rest of the members were on another mission, leaving only Fugo and Y/n behind. Such unfortunate luck, but fate was not always kind.

Bruno walked into the restaurant where he had designated the meeting. To Bruno's all-knowing eyes, they had just argued.

Fugo's face was beet red, eyebrows furrowed in agitation. His fists were clenched in the napkin in his lap and he was glancing at Y/n's neck. Bruno wouldn't be surprised if Fugo was contemplating strangling her.