𝙗𝙡𝙖𝙘𝙠𝙚𝙣𝙚𝙙 𝙝𝙚𝙖𝙧𝙩 ⚠︎ 𝙥𝙖𝙨𝙨𝙞𝙤𝙣𝙚 𝙭 𝙧𝙚𝙖𝙙𝙚𝙧⚠︎

❤︎𝐬𝐞𝐯𝐞𝐧❤︎

And drink you did.

"Why not this one?" Giorno asked, holding up a bottle of white wine in opposition to your bottle of vodka.

"Wine?" You raised your eyebrow. "Now you sound like Abbachio."

"I heard that you little shit!" The male said from over a few aisles. You rolled your eyes.

"Let's just get both," He said grabbing both bottles and dropping them in the cart already filled with different brands and types of alcohol and snacks. Mista and Narancia came down the aisle, snickering and goofing around as they dumped a few bottles of Hennesy and Coke in the cart. Trish was humming as she also came, dropping some whiskey into the cart.

"Okay," Bucciarati said as Abbachio dumped the many, many, many bottles of wine into the cart. "I think this is enough alcohol."

"You can never have enough," You said, placing another bottle in the cart while smiling cheekily at him. Sure, some of you might be under the legal drinking age, but it didn't necessarily concern any of you. You killed people almost on a daily base, you were part of a gang, and you handled drugs (while you disposed of them of course). Underage drinking wasn't something that was on your list of worries at this point. But man, if that was the only thing you had to worry about, then you would be living an easy life compared to the life you live now.

Once you got back home, everyone started their drinking. You and Mista were mixing drinks, making everyone taste your weird concoctions. At some point, you all ended up playing poker and whoever was the winner was free of taking a shot. You were currently winning, smirking as Mista shuddered as he downed the shot of vodka.

"This is bullshit," Abbachio said. "You're fucking cheating."

"I am not," You laughed. "You're just a little piss baby because I'm better at poker than you."

"I'm gonna win this fucking round," Fugo huffed as Bucciarati dealt the next hand of cards out.

"I think everyone at this table has said that at least once now," You snickered as you arranged your cards.

"I want three, dammit!" Trish yelled.

You ended up winning that game too. Which resulted in Fugo almost flipping the table. Now all of you were sitting in the living room, watching as Mista and Narancia stumbled around while trying to dance together. You were sitting in the chair, one leg crossed over the other with a whiskey glass in one hand with the other resting on the arm of the chair. Trish was drinking a bottle of wine like it was a baby bottle, Abbachio was shit faced, surrounded by empty bottles on the table, and you, Giorno and Bucciarati were watching it all play out. You had no idea where Fugo was. Bucciarati had loosened his tie and Giorno was sitting in front of you, his back pressed against your legs.

"They're idiots," Giorno chuckled at Mista and Narancia as they lost balance and fell to the floor in a mess of laughter and slurred words. You hummed in agreement, raising the glass to your lips and finishing the little bit left.

"Hey Y/n!" Mista slurred, pulling himself up on the new coffee table. "I d-dare you to shotgun that!" He pointed to the bottle of untouched bottle of vodka sitting on the table.

"Bet you can't," Trish said, looking at you.

"Wanna put money on that?" You said, raising your eyebrow.

"Yes," Everyone said, pulling out their wallets and placed money on the table. You laughed as Giorno moved so you could stand up. You grabbed the bottle and popped the cap off before placing it to your lips with a sly grin. The liquid left a very dull burn as it slid down your throat until the whole bottle was gone. You sighed as you wiped the corner of your lip, pressing your thumb against your tongue, and dropped the empty bottle.

"Done," You said, grinning widely.

"WHAT THE FUCK?!" Mista yelled, eyes wide as you cackled and picked the bottle up before walking perfectly fine to the kitchen to throw it away. "HOW ARE YOU NOT DRUNK?"

"High alcohol tolerance?" You said, shrugging as you started picking up the empty bottles.

"Let me help," Giorno said, stumbling and laughing as he got to his feet. You held onto him, helping him gain his balance.

"You get him to bed. I'll worry about everyone else," Bucciarati said as he stood up. He gave you a soft smile to which you returned.

"Alright," You led Giorno up the stairs towards his room, occasionally giggling about the comments he made about Bucciarati practically throwing Mista in his room and carrying Narancia.

"How can you drink so much and still not be tipsy?" Giorno asked as you gently placed him on his bed.

"As I said before, I just have a high tolerance for alcohol." You said as you began unbuttoning his suit. You turned to his dresser and retrieved one of his shirts and held it out to him. "I don't get drunk very easily."

"We should not do anything one day and just pump you full of alcohol. I would pay to see what you look like as a drunk." Giorno chuckled as he changed his shirt.

"Maybe when you aren't busy as a Don." You said, grinning as you threw a pair of shorts at his head. You walked to the door and smiled back at him. "Come back when you aren't on the verge of death most of the day." You walked out and headed to your room, bidding Bucciarati goodnight as he came from Abbachio's room.

When you closed the door to your room, you made sure it was locked before sighing heavily and changing out of your dress. once out of the dress and into some more comfortable clothes, you got a knock on your door. You granted them permission, and your eyebrows raised when Giorno walked in. He gently closed the door behind him and held up a bottle of water when you gave him a questioning look.

"I'm not tired and I wanted someone to talk to," He explained, making you chuckle.

"You really are something else,"