Bruno Bucciarati - Tumblr Posts
Bruno Bucciarati distraught by the sight of what people do to Bidoofs
Requested by my friend and drawn in Magma
Saw a lot do this so I joined☆
☆Passion appearance+LGBTQ+ hcs☆
BruAbba day 5= Outfit swap!
(Click for better quality)
My quick and rough go at the '6 character fan art' bit done back in 2020.
₊❏❜ ⋮ Another Addition
Kinktober Day #9
Prompt: Pregnancy Character: Husband!Bruno Bucciarati This Work Contains: fem!reader, pregnancy, soft morning sex, fingering, cunnilingus WC: 389 Note: listen listen, he would be a great husband, also caught slipping again lol Taglist: @enchantedforest-network
Feeling the sunlight on your face, you groggily woke up to a bright and sunny morning. But that wasn't the only reason why you awoke.
You felt kisses trailing up your thighs, slowly pushing your nightgown up as the kisses went further up. You smiled slightly, knowing that only one person would wake you up like this.
“Amore,” you heard him whisper against your skin, already causing goosebumps to form on your skin. You rubbed your eyes to rid them of sleep and opened them completely to see your husband looking up at you, smiling before he began to kiss his way to where you needed him most.
“Good morning,” you breathed out, before deciding to relax against the pillows, gently resting a hand on your swollen stomach.
You heard, or rather felt, him chuckle as he whispered a good morning to you.
Unsure what brought this on but chose to let him do whatever he pleased, you sighed out in pleasure as he slowly pushed your underwear aside. Wasting no time, he began to slowly rub at your clit, making you gasp in return.
Ever since the day you found out you were expecting, you were excited but also worried about the changes that were going to happen to your body and wondered if your husband would still love you.
But his love for you never waivered, not a single bit. If anything, his love for you only seemed to grow as the months went by.
After licking at your clit; he then decided to slowly plunge his tongue into you, thrusting it in and out rapidly while his thumb rubbed your clit faster.
You already felt yourself reaching your climax and it especially didn't help when he switched his fingers and tongue and you felt your sweet spot being rammed into. It felt so good, you wished you could look down and see what he was doing to you.
"Go on amore… let yourself go," you heard him speak. Even over your moaning, you caught on that it was okay to cum. You finally let out a squeal as you came, squirming as Bruno kept up his pace; not stopping for a single bit.
Despite riding out your orgasm, you couldn't help but think of how blessed you were to have such an amazing and doting husband.
honestly one of my fav story of Bruno♡ it's just so sexy I can't 🥴✨️
An Evening's Haze
Bucciarati x Reader
Request/Commission Info: A 3500 word piece that involves Bucciarati and the reader when they get affected by a lust stand during a Passione event.
Content Warnings: Drugging via Stand, NSFW Content, AFAB Reader
***
The role of a careless woman was easy to play.
Draped in a luxurious magenta dress, all you needed was the right flash of jewelry and stilettos thin enough to be used as a weapon. It offered you a free pass to sweep around any party without concern. People smiled at you and allowed you to hang off their arms while they spoke about matters that really should have been kept secret despite having watched you enter on the with a partner.
You could eat a whole meal without going near the buffet table yourself and not have to fear poisons. Perhaps you grew too comfortable.
After all, you forgot that there were things that crept around Passione with abilities far beyond slipping something into your drink. Things that could be almost entirely invisible even to those who knew they existed.
To say he seemed harmless would have been a lie. You knew he was dangerous – you had simply forgotten why you may have been targeted.
He spoke to you in a rolling Italian, fixating on you from the moment his eyes drifted across your façade. You had no reason to speak to him but you indulged because others would be drawn to try and win your attention.
“You arrived with Bucciarati,” he said, after several minutes without a single word of importance mentioned.
You sought out your partner without even meaning to, expression softening from a mask of facetiousness into something far too real when you spotted him across the room. He stood beside one of the large white pillars, keeping the attention of men far too important for your casual conversation.
He was beautiful as always; dark hair cascading around his face and framing him with a pitch more breath-taking than onyx. His expression was welcoming but his bright blue eyes surveyed everybody with a critical analysis.
“I did,” you said, dragging your thoughts away before they betrayed you. “Passione has been growing their influence, haven’t you noticed?”
Said as though it was an explanation. To most, it was.
You didn’t work for Passione directly but your existence could no longer remain hidden. There was a technical truth behind your words – Passione was always growing in power and your act suited not knowing too much about the world you were involved in. Everybody would assume your role as a hapless damsel.
Perhaps, that too, was a weapon you wielded.
“It seems a little cruel for him to abandon you surrounded by so many dangerous people.”
The line was common enough. Too many thought it was a way to impress you without knowing, as you did, that Bucciarati watched your every move.
The man traced his fingers over the back of your hand, snapping your attention to him. You slowly pulled away as to not make it obvious that your skin crawled at his touch. He wasn’t an unattractive man exactly but there was a horrible feeling hovering around him like an aura. Trusting him would be stupid.
“Bucciarati is very busy,” you acknowledged, adding a soft sigh to further the tease of an abandoned woman.
“It’s this line of work,” the man agreed. He shook his head in sympathy. “I always feel so sad when I see a woman like you, filled with so much potential, and yet trapped in this life. It’s so unfair.”
You nodded in a sad agreement, eyes glinting in the light. “But isn’t it just so exciting?”
A flash of interest, deeper than the superficial attraction and worryingly hazardous, crossed his darkening expression. “Perhaps we could share something to drink,” he mentioned.
“Oh, that’s quite alright,” you said in a breathy tone. You looked around the room and caught the eye of another man. “If I accepted every drink offer I received, I wouldn’t be going home standing.” You brushed past him and tried to instantly forget about the concerning expression he had when he followed your movements.
A glow, initially brushed off as a simple reflection of light, had to have been a stand ability. Looking back, you cursed yourself for not realising it sooner.
The food you ate, chosen at random from the platter of the waitstaff, had been normal at first. But the taste had shifted the moment it touched your tongue – melting from a soft pastry into a buttery chocolate.
The effect was near instantaneous.
A cloud of delirium flooded your brain and a wave of pink heat rushed through your body. The sheer unexpectedness of it nearly knocked you down.
Writhing, unidentifiable sensations wrapped around your insides. They pulsed through your heart and made your legs feel weak. You leaned heavily against one of the walls and gasped to clear your lungs. It didn’t work.
The lights were all too bright and you squinted through them. There was a ringing in your ears. The burning was getting lower and lower, pooling deep in your stomach and make you shiver with a desperate need. If you didn’t find somebody to touch you… shit, you were struggling to even think straight.
The man from before… you could see him in the corner of your eye. Was he watching you? He almost seemed to be moving forward.
You forced yourself to find Bucciarati, a ridiculous bolt of desire stabbing into your throat when you located him.
He was sitting at a table as the picture of poise. Every piece of his façade had been carefully constructed to suit the men he was speaking to. His voice flowed smooth through the air – words chosen to flatter without appearing desperate for the connection between Passione and whatever group they were working for.
It was against your better judgement to waltz over there and drape across his shoulders. You’d seen other partners do it so the men themselves wouldn’t be affected but Bucciarati never appreciated interruptions.
The pink haze in your veins sent another pulse through your body. Your legs buckled a little and you bumped into the table with your hip. There was no way this wasn’t some kind of drug or stand ability… the latter being a greater possibility given the interactions of the night.
It pushed the concerned thoughts from your mind instantly.
You fell across Bucciarati’s shoulders and smiled at the casual chuckles from the table. Comments about too much to drink followed.
Bucciarati also believed you to be tipsy and he took your arm to guide you to the seat beside him. His expression darkened only slightly as he took as he took in the flush of your cheeks and the hitch of your breath.
You sat but not without a whisper. It was scarcely audible but desperate enough, “Please. I need you.”
He didn’t pause in his conversation but he heard you. His answer came through a small squeeze to your thigh.
It was painful to sit and wait but his hold on your leg remained tight. He prevented you from squirming and the burning grew more intense with each minute that passed. Your face was ignited and your heart was deafening behind your ears. If anybody was looking, they’d certainly think you to be wasted.
Bucciarati rose from his seat with an unmatchable grace. He guided you to join him and thanked his interlocuters for the conversation.
“Bruno,” you whispered. You tried to make your voice obey you and speak instead of whimpering. It didn’t work.
He touched the small of your back, unwittingly sending sparks through your body. “It’s alright,” he hummed. Even his voice made you want to press your thighs together. “Just tell me what’s going on when we get outside.”
The night air was a sigh of relief against your clammy skin. It gave you a brief reprieve before your body could heat up once more.
There was nobody else in the gardens and Bucciarati took you deep into the maze of bushes and trees until he found a spot he approved of. It would be impossible for any eavesdroppers to get close enough without making themselves known. He could also see the main windows of the venue and keep an eye on everything.
He pressed a hand to your forehead like he was taking your temperature. “What did you have to drink?”
“Nothing more than water,” you breathed. “I think something was slipped into my food.”
You leaned close to him and instantly located a source of relief from your overwhelming need. His body fitted so well against your own. If only you could get rid of the ridiculous amount of clothing he was wearing.
And his smell…
“It’s an aphrodisiac of some kind.” Bucciarati caressed your cheek and you just about moaned, mouth falling open eagerly when his thumb brushed your lips. “I’ll organise a ride home for you.”
You shook your head. The lust screamed beneath your skin and demanded a solution now. “I don’t want to deal with it alone. Please –“
Bucciarati’s resolve was strong and unwavering most days. You could see hints of it shining behind his cerulean gaze in that moment but it was fragmented. The temptation was there but he would always put off his desires for the sake of his work.
In your current state, you didn’t care about work in the slightest.
He didn’t stop you from kissing him even as your arms wound around his neck. You pushed up against him as much as you could. His touch was a balm to your fever and you wanted every part of him. He was always sweet but now he had become the kind of drug you never wanted to walk away from. Couldn’t, even if you tried.
When you gently nipped at his lips, Bucciarati moved away. He stroked your side softly, unaware that even the soothing movement was making things worse. “This isn’t the best time for anything. You’re not in the right state of mind.”
“Bruno,” you complained through gritted teeth. “I already always want you.”
“There are people who need to speak to me,” he said.
Your fingers tangled in his hair, messing up the undoubtedly perfect braid as you brought your lips to his once more. His tongue glided smoothly with your own, making you moan far too loudly against him.
His touch danced across your waist and you knew his resolve was fading.
Taking full advantage, you ran your hand down his chest, stopping only to briefly tug on the edges of his suit. When you reached the waistband of his pants, he caught your wrist.
“Not here.”
You whined in protest, expression pleading. Did he not see how you were suffering? The desire was painted across your face; neediness showing through your panting breath and your trembling lip.
Bucciarati looked around and you brought your lips to his throat, whimpering a ‘please’ between soft kisses and bites.
“I still think it would be better if I organised for you to go home,” he said, fingers dancing along your pulse and travelling higher along your arm. “But you seem very determined to make sure I’ll regret that.”
The logical part of your brain was still there even if was being stifled by whatever was moving through your body. It warned you that this could easily be a trap. Stands were very specific – perhaps it hadn’t been aimed at you after all. You should go home. You should try to fight whatever this ridiculous desire was.
Then Bucciarati kissed you again and any rational thought disappeared in the wave that flooded your system.
You didn’t ask when he started leading you somewhere. The heat between your legs didn’t care where you were going as long as he kept touching you. If only your dress wasn’t in the way.
The back of the hall loomed before you, loud chatter somewhat punching through your clouded mind. You couldn’t be bothered with what they were saying but getting this close to other people seemed like it could be dangerous.
A zip and you were back inside, isolated in a darkened conference room with chatter on the other side of a large door. It was hot inside. Worse than it had been in the fresh air of the garden. Your clothes were beginning to itch your skin and you wished you could get rid of them.
But first, you wanted something else.
“This room is rarely in use,” Bucciarati said. “Locked during events unless some of the higher ups want to speak to each other in private.”
You didn’t care. It could have been anywhere and it would matter little in your mind as long as he allowed you to have what you needed.
He didn’t stop you from sinking to your knees, dress pulled up and bunched around your thighs. His eyes darted around the room to make sure you were alone but when you began to mouth at his cock through the fabric of his pants, he couldn’t concentrate on that anymore.
You clenched your thighs together as tight as you could. The buttons were nearly thwarting your plans, trembling fingers refusing to obey you as your head swirled.
Then you managed it.
A small warning in your brain reminded you to move slowly. You chose to ignore that thought.
Bucciarati gasped, hand flying to your hair as you took him deep into your throat with one movement. It burned the back of your throat and you gagged around him but you refused to relent. The stretch of your lips, the weight against your tongue, the taste that was so uniquely his… it made you dizzier still.
You were awfully sloppy. There was no poise or purpose as you moved. There was a fire in your stomach that only grew as you tried to get him deeper and deeper still. Your lungs were actually hurting but still you refused to take a break.
Red lines followed your nails as you sunk them into the skin of his thighs. You could hear his noises, small and painfully restrained, and didn’t bother holding back your own.
The hand in your hair tightened its grasp and pulled you off, tears running down your face and blurring your vision. You stared up at Bucciarati, trying to understand why he was taking you away from him. Was it too much? No, even in your addled mind, you could see that he was enjoying himself. He took in your expression and closed his eyes as though to steady himself.
“Please,” you whined.
The pull against your hair as you pushed forward, rubbing his cock against your cheek, was delicious. You wanted him to tug your head back and drag his teeth across your throat and –
“Are you happy with just this?”
Your thighs clenched around nothing, small bolts of almost-pain running through your legs as a reminder of what else you could have. You shook your head. You wanted more.
Bucciarati helped you up, the slight tremble in his hands betraying just how close you’d brought him with your frenzied need. His touch dipped between your legs and you threw your head back, wanton moan falling free now that you were no longer occupied.
“Quiet,” he reprimanded. “We’re not far enough away for that kind of noise.”
You tried. You really, really did. But it was unfair of him to expect you to remain silent when he was running his fingers across your core like that.
“I don’t know what I was expecting,” he chuckled, half to himself. “You’ve ruined your panties entirely.”
You bucked against his hand, knees weak and trembling. Why did it even matter? You just wanted him to be inside of you.
There was a zipping sound and your eyes flew open, the cold press of a zip across your lips making you startle. Bucciarati caressed the seal with his thumb, eyes bright when they met your own.
“I already know you won’t be able to control yourself.”
He was so, so right.
You were backed into the table in the center of the room, head pushing back against the wood as you arched against it and bucked your hips against the too-gentle touch against your core. The zip muffled your noises but it couldn’t contain them fully, their desperate pitch slipping out through the smallest of gaps.
Bucciarati understood your desperate ‘please’ without needing to hear it properly. He could make out the moans of his name as he slipped two fingers into your slick heat.
A steam of ‘please’ and ‘more’, blocked by the zipper, made him decide against drawing this out for much longer.
The heat inside you was screaming. Maybe you were also. You could barely focus on your thoughts, especially when you finally got what you wanted. Then everything just melted away into a primal need for more. To get him deeper and force him to move faster. To have more of everything.
Bucciarati was struggling a little to keep himself stable.
There was something unnatural about your body. The way you were squeezing around him was more addictive than usual. The heat was almost leaking across into him, pulsing through your silken walls and racing through his veins.
He dropped his head onto your shoulder, feeling the way your body arched up into his own, ragged gasps managing to slip through his gritted teeth.
You bucked against him, the smooth wood of the table growing too hot beneath your back. Electricity flared across your skin as though you’d grabbed onto an open wire. It buzzed deep inside you. The restraint of the zipper was getting suffocating. You wanted to scream, to moan, to feel Bucciarati in your throat as well as in your cunt. You wanted him everywhere.
“I think this may be contagious,” Bucciarati managed to growl out.
Honestly, you didn’t care. His voice was another strike of fire in your chest. Maybe it was good that it was contagious, maybe it was good that he would be dragged into this with you.
The tension built higher and higher until all you could see was the haze of pink that was covering your eyes. Your nails dug into the wood as it surged through your systems. It flooded you, straining against you more and more before it snapped.
Your orgasm hit the air from your lungs. You screamed behind the zipper, tears streaming down your face without your notice. The pleasure was hurting you. It was uncontrollable, flooding every part of your body and making you writhe desperately but you didn’t even know what you wanted.
It roared and then died, returning to little more than a buzzing below the surface.
But Bucciarati was still moving.
His lips were parted against your skin, puffing sharp breaths against you as his hips snapped forward. The movements were so much clearer now. You could feel the way he dragged against your sensitive core, jolts of pleasure driving you back into the moment.
Why… the concern and reality hit you all at once. The drug had been cleared from your mind but it wasn’t gone, you could still feel it coiling in your stomach. You reached up to unzip your mouth.
“Bruno.”
A soft groan was your only answer. His grip on your hips was bruising, undoubtedly going to leave marks for days after. Curses flowed freely from you without the muzzle and you had to bite your lip to stop the moans from following.
The pink was returning again. It sent a pleasant pulse through your veins in encouragement, coming back to destroy your logical mind once more. You rezipped your mouth, head falling to the side and head swimming.
When Bucciarati came, deep and pulsing within you, he dragged you over the edge for a second time.
The haze was chased once more and you sat there, a headache building, before you realised it was beginning to come back.
“Bruno,” you forced yourself to say after removing the zip. “The user is wearing a blue suit, silver lining, and rose-shaped cufflinks. Dark hair and a very roman nose. He likes skulking around the shadows and I can probably guess why.”
Bucciarati fumbled for his phone, head still resting on your collarbone. He managed to get the call through, muttering out the description before tossing it down. “We should try and make it to the house,” he said. “I should have thought this through more. Stands don’t behave like normal drugs.”
“Do you think it’ll wear off or…?”
“Either way, once they find the user, he won’t be breathing enough for it to continue much longer.”
You rolled your hips up, managing to get a guttural groan from him as a result. He twitched inside you. His eyes were becoming glassy again, breath hot against your sticky skin.
“Then why even bother with the house?”
ੈ✩ bruno thoughts that nobody asked for ¡! ❞
gender neutral, these are just hcs that have def been put out there before but i just have some things to say
suggestive! not smut but proceed w caution??
a/n: when im writing this its legit 5am and the birds are chirping but my bucciarati thoughts wait for no man
maybe this goes without saying but in comparison to the rest of the bucci gang i just knooow hes such a romantic lover (caesar style)
this man is HANDSY. hands are always on you when you’re around each other, not even necessarily sexual, he just loves to feel the warmth of your skin under his palms!
and even when it is sexual, his hands are never leaving you- i’m imagining like running all over your torso type situation like they are always moving (god i love him)
he just wants to feel you close!! understandable
idk if this is a popular opinion in the jojos fandom but i feel like he would be possessive too like not in a toxic way just
like he is prooooud of his s/o and he wants the whole fucking world to know it but if ANYONE tries ANYTHING my man yelling sticky fingers he don’t play
(my man like 😭😭💕)
he looooves when you run your fingers through his hair
that man has a well maintained haircut (ik y’all seeing the fuck ass bob) and so naturally he loves getting it done- even just dragging your fingers through the strands of his hair likeee ik hes eating that up
he def does not mind you taking the lead, and i just know he’s into ts
i feel like hes super into a dominant s/o like this man just wants you to feel good, but when you take control, even in everyday life i just know he loves it
even if a more shy s/o occasionally showed a bit of sass likeeeee
i feel like he’s totally down for polyamory likeeee idk
i reckon he’d be fine with just one s/o, but he’d also def be down for polyamory, or even just a non-monogamous sexual relationship & he has def experimented with it in the past
hes def bringing a certain long-haired someone in (if you’re comfortable w that ofc)
this my man just has so much love to give!
definitely big on eye contact
idgaf he’s flirty as FUCK like the eye contact goes crazy w him, and he’s gonna be noticing every little detail of the way your eyes flick over his face when he’s close to you
loves to see you shy away and blush but will also find it sooo attractive when you hold your ground and stare right back
a/n: for some reason this post keeps glitching so if u see any duplicate paragraphs ignore it 😭😭🙏
Babette and Focaccia I drew some weeks ago and I've been forgetting to publish heheheheeh♡♡♡♡ look at them swapping outfits aren't they cute?💕
lovely Focaccia belongs to @jellyluchi ♡ thank you for letting me draw her tahi♡
bonus 🤭💘
"How would the team react to their p*rno being found?"
Drawn By: @ino_matome on Twitter [click]
Saw a post about how beautiful Bruno is and I think is true
I love how bucciarari goes from cold and dangerous looking, like in his first encounter with giorno:
To still badass but also soft and cutie:
Bruno Bucciarati!!
(Spoilers for JoJo Part 5/Golden Wind/Vento Aureo⚠️)
One of the moments that make me always really sad for Bruno was when Abbacchio died and he tried so hard to not breakdown. So hard that when he bites his lip it starts bleeding.
The way he bites his lip is something small but it says a lot how he feels about this and how much it hurt him. He is trying so much to not cry and grief but move forward instead. He has to be the leader and can’t show any weakness but he’s still human and he lost someone he cared about.
He is in pain. He failed at protecting someone.
In the anime it’s even portrayed more emotional imo. Bruno’s voice actor did an amazing job at sounding stern and angry that Narancia is going against his orders (and is afraid he will be the next) but you can hear its getting difficult for him to keep his cool.
I will always see it as symbolism that when Narancia is crying and screaming like crazy and begs him to stay …that’s what Bruno wants to do.
Just cry…
I Know You're Out There Somewhere
Yeah, I’m going to call bullshit on that Bucciarati.
I’m sure HE KNOWS people stare at him with that big boob window
And perhaps he likes it
Someone lit himself on fire trying to make a grilled cheese
based an idea i had from my tweets. in my heart if bruno was there for mistas meat talk this is how it’d go down
said tweet under cut
