Wild Cards (JJBA Villains x Reader)

24| Disfigured

The way pain unwinds in his skin, untangling like strange yarns, it is reason to be even more intrigued. Every little bit of you is fascinating, a mystery with so many layers it's hard to only ever focus on one aspect.

"Did you hear me, Pucci?" 

Back to reality he's thrust. Your eyebrow flicks up in question, and it is then he notices he may have been stare for a bit too long.

"No, pardon me. What did you say?"

"I apologize if I've hurt you enough to make you space, but I asked where everyone was."

"Ah-- out."

"Out? Of course they are, but where."

"Out; they left to run errands I am unaware of. Valentine lingers around here somewhere, insistent he stayed with you." Pucci hisses with the pressure against his foot. "Please-"

"You told me quite the opposite a moment ago." You say, releasing some tension. "That it hurt. Don't tell me you're suggesting you lied."

"You are breaking me in half."

"I could do much more than that."

Pucci pulls his gaze to you. Dull stirrings of sensation. Touches against skin only separated by mere glove. It is in some way intimate, he thinks, an act of kind gesture only shared between close ones. A secret, a connection he was not aware he contracted to, yet still obligated by with no complaints.

At what point had he signed away his heart? It flutters as you stare back at him with a soft gaze you do not know of. At what point had he signed away his mind? It melts and sputters like slow ice upon something electric. At what point had he signed away his body? It reacts to you, it is already yours.

A dry swallow rakes his throat once you part from his injured foot, now relaxed, and gently put his bandage back on and slip his shoe into place. It is still elevated on your leg, and you only rub it softly now.

"How had you hurt yourself?" You ask.

"I, there was something, I'm, I'm not quite--" Pucci licks his dry lips in an awkward save. "Something. I don't know, maybe, some water."

"Water?"

"Someone could've tracked it out after a shower, or a cup spilt." He says, "But I am better now, thanks to you."

The cushion huffs as Pucci scoots forward some, enough to lessen the distance between you both, but not so much as to remind you of the lack thereof the night ere. How your suit, for the first time in forever, suddenly felt so hot, how strangely erotic the fanning of your breath on each others lips felt, the way-

"Had you needed anything from the store at all?" Pucci pulls you back into reality. It's comical how you seem to both encroach the other in a dizzy haze. "When everyone had left to run their own errands, I had suggested they bring some coffee and whiskey for you, though I was not sure what else you might've needed."