naomijoestar

[naomijoestar]

I feel so bad going through my requests & seeing all the asks I haven’t even started with </3 I’m so sorry for my lack of activity, I’ll try working on something hopefully.

[naomijoestar]

It really sucks trying to find fanfiction of characters I love and only finding stuff that’s clearly ai. Like you can just tell there’s no emotion in the writing & it gets me so ticked off..

[naomijoestar]

⋆.ೃ JJBA SCENARIOS ࿔*:･

Masterlist here <3

Genre: fluff

Warnings: none

Character: leone abbacchio

Notes: seeing as it was fathers day yesterday, I decided to make a fathers day scenario! I always headcanoned that narancia sees abbacchio as a father figure so I though, wjat jf I wrote something similar wuth reader? I tried getting this done before yesterday but I failed, so you’re getting the post a day late! Sorry about that. I hope everyone enjoys either way <3 Also I would like to note that abbacchio is just someone reader considers a father, he’s not actually her biological dad

“Happy fathers day, Abbacchio”

The morning sun filtered through the kitchen window of the safehouse, bathing the tiled floor in golden warmth. Most of the gang was still asleep or just beginning to stir, but you had been up early—quietly, carefully putting together something special.

You peeked down at the small white pastry box in your hands, steam from the bakery still clinging to the cardboard. The faint scent of buttery sfogliatelle and lemon cream wafted up, comforting and nostalgic. Nestled under your arm was a simple card—nothing fancy, just hand picked and handwritten.

It wasn’t much. But it mattered.

Today was Father’s Day.

You weren’t really sure if the others would mark it. Maybe Bruno would think of his dad. Maybe Narancia would forget it even existed. But for you, the day had meaning.

Not because you had a dad to celebrate—he’d been out of the picture for years. But because somewhere along the way, Leone Abbacchio, grumpy and guarded as he was, had started to fill the space that had been hollow for so long.

He watched over you. He kept you out of danger. He yelled at you when you were reckless, but always made sure you had dinner, even if he acted annoyed about it. He listened. Not always with words, but with presence. That had to mean something.

You found him in the living room, sitting in an armchair, legs crossed, sipping bitter black coffee from a chipped mug. His violet eyes flicked up when he saw you, brow already twitching as if bracing for some kind of trouble.

“Hey,” you said quietly, inching closer, heart pounding harder than you expected.

“What is it now?” he grumbled, voice still scratchy with sleep. But he didn’t sound angry. Just… tired. Typical Abbacchio.

You stood in front of him, practically wringing your hands. “I… I just wanted to give you something. For, um… today.”

His eyes narrowed slightly, confusion forming lines between his brows. You held out the box and the card.

“…What the hell is this?”

You hesitated, then exhaled quickly. “It’s for Father’s Day. I mean, I know you’re not my dad or anything. But I, um… I guess I just see you kind of like one. So. I got you pastries from that café you like. And I wrote you something. In the card.”

Abbacchio froze.

For a full five seconds, he didn’t move.

His hsnd remained hovering near the coffee mug. His expression didn’t shift, not exactly. But something behind his eyes flickered—shock, discomfort, maybe something softer buried deep.

“…Tch.” He finally scoffed, lips pulling into a half-grimace, half-smirk. “You really are a little idiot sometimes.”

You smiled nervously. “Yeah. I know.”

He stared at the pastries like they might explode. Then he reached out, took the box and card with more gentleness than you expected, and set them in his lap.

He didn’t open the card right away.

“…Thanks,” he muttered, so quietly you almost missed it.

And then, in the softest voice you’d ever heard him use

“I mean it.”

You blinked at him, surprised. But you nodded and smiled again, your chest warm with relief and affection.

“I’ll let you read it in peace,” you said, turning to leave.

And just as you were at the door, you heard him mutter something else:

“…Happy Father’s Day, huh…”

The safehouse was quieter in the afternoon. You were out running errands with Narancia, leaving Abbacchio alone in the main room with the rest of the gang. Bruno sat at the table reviewing maps. Mista was cleaning his gun. Fugo had a book open in front of him, half-reading. Giorno was trimming a dying houseplant no one else had noticed.

Abbacchio had barely spoken all day.

But eventually, he set his coffee down, looked up at the group, and cleared his throat.

“I got something this morning,” he said casually, though the edge in his voice betrayed that it wasn’t just anything.

Mista blinked. “What, a death threat?”

Bruno raised a brow. “What do you mean?”

Abbacchio rubbed the back of his neck—an odd gesture, vulnerable, almost self-conscious.

“From the girl,” he muttered. “She gave me a card. And pastries. Said it was for Father’s Day.”

The room fell silent.

Fugo looked up from his book.

Mista stared, mouth half-open.

Giorno paused mid-trim.

And Bruno slowly set his map down, his expression unreadable.

“She said she sees me… like a father figure,” Abbacchio finished, voice lower now. “I wasn’t expecting that.”

Bruno’s eyes softened, a hint of warmth creeping into his expression. “I suppose it’s not surprising,” he said. “She’s always followed your lead. Trusted you. Even when she doesn’t listen to anyone else.”

Mista let out a long whistle. “Damn. That’s kinda… cute?”

“Unexpected,” Fugo added. “But not illogical. You’ve been looking out for her since day one.”

“She admires you,” Giorno said simply. “That much has always been clear.”

Abbacchio stared down at the table, tapping one finger against his coffee mug.

“It’s weird,” he said. “Having someone see you like that. I’ve spent years trying not to be anyone’s example.”

Bruno smiled faintly. “Sometimes, that’s exactly the kind of person who becomes one.”

There was another pause.

Then Mista burst out laughing. “Wait—did you cry?”

Abbacchio glared daggers at him. “Try it and I’ll break your fingers.”

“I’m just sayin! If a kid gave me pastries and called me ‘dad,’ I’d probably cry too!”

“She didn’t call me ‘dad.’”

“But she meant it,” Fugo teased, smirking slightly.

“Shut up,” Abbacchio grumbled, though the corner of his mouth twitched.

“Did you read the card?” Giorno asked.

He nodded slowly. “Yeah. She wrote… some really heartfelt stuff. Said she felt safe with me. Said I make her feel protected.” He swallowed. “Said she’s never really had that before.”

The gang fell quiet again. The weight of that truth settled heavily.

“She’s lucky to have you,” Bruno said finally, with quiet conviction.

Abbacchio didn’t answer right away. Then, softly, he murmured:

“…Maybe I’m lucky to have her too.”

Mista grinned. “You’re a softie.”

“Say that again and you’re getting shot.”

Fugo chuckled. Giorno smiled faintly. Bruno looked over with pride.

None of them said it out loud, but they all knew..

Whether he liked it or not, Leone Abbacchio was a father figure now.

And somehow… it suited him.

I know I’ve been gone for a while, and I’m very sorry about that! I will try and be more active, but no promises :,)

If you enjoyed this make sure to check out my other posts, and if you’d like anything specific written for a jjba character/squad parts 1-9 you can request it if my requests are open!

[naomijoestar]

UNDER THE PALE MOONLIGHT

─୨ৎ── mista x reader✧˖♡°.

yes I know I have requests, yes I'm getting to them. im just going through it atm and need time. and yes I love you all <3

cw: like 1 swearword (extremely proud of my disgusting pottymouth)

wc: 573?

Mista, who bought a ring the night after your first date. Just in case.

It sounded stupid when he told Bucciarati. A little less stupid when he told Trish. But to himself—on long rides home to you, in dimly lit hotel rooms, on missions where bullets flew past his head and time felt burrowed—it made perfect sense. You were it. So he kept the ring, just in case the universe decided to be kind.

And for once, it had been. Because years later, that ring was still with him, tucked safely in the lining of his nicest coat. Still waiting, Still right. 

He had big plans, of course. He’d propose over the fanciest dinner at the fanciest restaurant with the perfect view of the city. He’d already mapped it out in his head. Your favourite flowers would be waiting at the table—The speech? He’d practised it in mirrors, in the shower, even while shooting cans behind hideouts. Well over a thousand times. 

He’d gotten Trish in on it too. She was going to whisk you away for a spa day, get your nails done, maybe even pick out that dress he secretly bought months ago—Perfectly you. A piece that he knew would make his heart stop when he saw you in it. 

But all that went out the window the moment he saw your eyes glisten on a quiet Thursday night. 

There was nothing special about the day. The sky wasn’t particularly clear, the city was far from quiet. You, you were just…tired. A soft kind of tired. Wrapped in one of his old shirts on the verandah, legs curled beneath you, the moonlight pooling in the hollow of your throat. The way you looked up at him like he had hung the stars himself had him in a chokehold. 

"You're staring," you murmured, voice like warm tea.

“Yeah.” He answered, voice caught somewhere between breathless and certainty. “I am.”

His hand brushed over the box he’d spontaneously put in his pant pocket, and something deeply twisted in his chest. Not painful, but big. Bigger than any plan. Bigger than any speech. Bigger than the weight of the ring that surely felt like it was burning a hole through his pocket and skin.

He sat beside you, the wood warm beneath you from the day’s sun. You leaned your head on his shoulder and sighed in a way that sounded angelic to his sore ears.

"You ever think we’d end up here?" you asked, half-dreamy.

"Yeah," he said again, quieter this time. "Yeah, I  did."

And when you turned your head to look at him, he knew he was done for.

The flecks of sliver caught in the reflection of your eye, the light dancing over your skin. Mista has never considered himself religious, but if there were a god, he must be his favourite. Maybe second to you. 

Fuck the speech, the restaurant. Its just you, the moon, and the way his hands shook when he held the box between you.

"Marry me," he said, like a prayer, a promise.

You blinked. Once. Twice.

And then smiled in that slow, stunned way that made his heart feel like it might fall apart entirely.

"Really?" you whispered, tears slipping down without shame.

He nodded, almost sheepish. “I was gonna wait. Do it right. But you looked at me with those big pretty eyes and I forgot how to think..”

You laughed, wet and breathless. "This is right."

And it was.

Because sometimes, the universe gives you a random Thursday night, a moon, and a chance to say yes.

[naomijoestar]

Hey!! I love your writing and I appreciate how you make the characters as canon as possible!

Can I request the gang + Trish reacting to reader suddenly hugging them tightly >_< .

(Platonically though!!)

This request is from February, I’m sorry!!! 😅 I hope you enjoy this nonetheless!

Bucci gang + trish react to reader suddenly hugging them

Bruno Bucciarati

You catch him mid-strategy, arms crossed as he discusses plans in that calm, focused tone of his. You suddenly wrap your arms around him in a firm, unexpected hug. He freezes — surprised more by the timing than the gesture itself.

After a moment, his body relaxes, and he gently pats your back.

“…You scared me for a second,” he says with a soft chuckle, voice low and comforting. “But… thank you. I needed that more than I realized.”

He doesn’t hug back tightly, but he doesn’t pull away either. He understands, even without a word.

Leone Abbacchio

He’s sitting off to the side, arms draped across his knees, scowling into the distance as usual. You approach quietly and hug him without warning.

His entire body tenses like you just threw cold water on him. “What the hell are you—” he starts, twisting slightly in irritation.

But then you don’t let go. You just stay there, holding him like it’s the most natural thing in the world.

He exhales — long and slow.

“…Tch. Don’t get used to this,” he mutters, eyes flicking away. But he doesn’t move. Maybe, just maybe, there’s the faintest shift in how he leans into it.

Guido Mista

He’s joking around, probably teasing Narancia or balancing a bullet on his finger when you suddenly squeeze him tight.

“Oh?! Hey hey hey!” He grins, startled but amused. “What’s all this about?”

His first instinct is to laugh it off, but then he hears how deep you sigh against his shoulder.

“Oh,” he says again, softer this time.

He hugs you back with one arm, a bit lopsided but firm, patting your back in a rhythm that’s almost musical.

“You’re lucky I’m irresistible,” he jokes, but his voice is warm. “Anytime, capisce?”

Giorno Giovanna

He’s organizing something — his mind always working. You step in and hug him tight, and he stiffens like you short-circuited his brain.

His arms hover awkwardly for a second, unsure of what to do. “Ah… are you alright?”

But as he feels the sincerity of your grip, he gently wraps his arms around you in return, polite but heartfelt.

“I may not always say it,” he murmurs, “but I’m glad you feel safe enough to do this.”

He doesn’t let go until you do.

Narancia Ghirga

He yelps. Like, full-on jumps a little. “Wha—?! Whoa, hey!!”

But once he realizes it’s you and it’s just a hug, he breaks into a huge grin. “Sheesh, you scared me! Thought it was an enemy Stand or somethin!”

Still, he beams and immediately returns the hug, arms wrapped tight and fast. He holds on like he’s afraid you’ll vanish.

“You’re so weird sometimes, y’know that?” he says, but he’s laughing. “But I like it. Do it again sometime.”

Pannacotta Fugo

You catch him reading or lost in thought — which is dangerous, because sudden contact triggers that split-second panic reflex.

He jumps, pushing back instinctively. “What are you doing?!”

But once he sees it’s you, and that you’re just hugging him — no threat, no reason — the anger that flickered across his face softens.

“…Sorry,” he mumbles, shoulders dropping. “You just caught me off guard.”

He hesitates, then lightly places a hand on your back. “Thanks. I… appreciate it.” His voice is quiet. Earnest.

Trish Una

She’s brushing her hair or adjusting her outfit, probably mid-eye roll at something Mista said, when you suddenly hug her from behind.

“Huh—?!” She jolts, startled, turning slightly to see your face. “Are you okay? What’s gotten into you?”

But even as she says it, she doesn’t pull away. Her arms don’t move at first, unsure.

Then slowly — very slowly — she rests a hand on your arm and lets out a breath.

“…You’re lucky I like you,” she says with mock annoyance. “But… I guess I don’t mind.”

If you enjoyed this make sure to check out my other posts, and if you’d like anything specific written for a jjba character/squad parts 1-9 you can request it if my requests are open!

[naomijoestar]

BTW I think I forgot to mention. I now write for all JoJo parts! So you can request anything for anyone from parts 1-9.

[naomijoestar]

SBR CONFIRMED

[naomijoestar]

Hi, hope ur doing good, drinking water, staying healthy and fresh,😉🥰🩷🩷

if ur taking request then can I ask how the bucci gang would react to a stand user, whose not part of passione, who can turn clothing & accessories like;shirts, pants, skirts, belts, gloves, hats/headwear, hair accessories, ect. into weapons & tools, similar to panty & stocking. Like guns, smallarms, knives, swords, polearms, grenades. But rather than just underwear it's any clothing on her body. The only downside is that it dosen't turn any jewelry, eyewear, watches or shoes into weapons, for some odd reason. Bonus points if she can use hamon/ripple energy to make her attacks more effect, on both stand users & Non-stand users alike. Stand Name: One woman army.

Just a thought i had, I guess.😶😶‍🌫️ what do u think?

Masterlist here <3

Sorry for the long wait! I hope you enjoy!

Bucci gang react to stand user who can turn clothes into weapons

Bruno Bucciarati

Bruno would be cautiously intrigued at first. A Stand like one woman army screams utility and danger in equal measure—being able to whip out anything from a belt-turned-machete to a hat-turned-shotgun? Yeah, he’s clocking her as lethal before she even flexes.

Once he sees her fight, he’d instantly recognize her as someone who could be a huge asset or a massive threat. The Hamon detail especially would earn his respect; it’s an ancient and rare art, and seeing someone who mastered it while also wielding such a combat-heavy Stand? He’d probably offer her a place in Passione under his branch if she proves trustworthy.

Guido Mista

“Ohhh HELL no. SHE JUST PULLED A GRENADE OUT OF HER BRA.”

Mista would be both terrified and very impressed. He’d probably joke that he needs to be careful around her in case she pulls a bazooka out of her sleeve or something. But once the initial shock wears off, he’d start seeing the tactical potential: “Yo, imagine sneaking weapons into places where we’re supposed to be unarmed, she’s like walking black ops.”

The fact she can’t turn her shoes or jewelry into weapons would amuse him. Expect dumb comments like:

“Wait so earrings don’t work? What about toe rings? Asking for a friend.”

He’d probably flirt a little too, joking that she’s literally armed to the teeth.

Narancia Ghirga

Narancia would love her power. Like, unironically think she’s the coolest thing since sliced pizza. “Wait, wait—your scarf turns into a FLAMETHROWER? That’s SICK!!”

He’d immediately beg her to show him more weapon transformations. Probably gets ideas about asking her to make him some clothing-based gadgets, even if that’s not how her Stand works. He’d definitely ask to spar with her to “see who’s faster,” (and totally gets wrecked). “OK OK YOU WIN, DAMN! how are you so cool?!”

Leone Abbacchio

The human version of a slow, judgmental side-eye. He wouldn’t trust her at all at first. “A walking arsenal who can weaponize her own wardrobe? Sounds like a liability with a fashion budget.”

Abbacchio would scrutinize every word she says and quietly test her loyalty. However, once he sees her Stand’s precision and especially the Hamon (which he might vaguely recognize from past tales or from Bruno), he’d begrudgingly admit she’s effective. Still wouldn’t fully trust her, but he’d watch her back in a fight. “Hmph. Just don’t point that belt-gun at us.”

Pannacotta Fugo

Fugo would nerd out a bit over the physics of her Stand. He’d try to understand the mechanism—How does the Stand convert mass? Is it manifesting external weapons or reshaping existing fabric? The fact shoes and jewelry are excluded would bother him. “There’s clearly a limit, but I don’t get why that specific cutoff exists. It’s…illogical.”

The ripple energy would catch him off guard; he’s smart enough to know about Hamon, and if she can combine it with a Stand attack, he’d be extremely impressed (and slightly intimidated). Might warm up to her quicker than expected if she shows patience for his rants.

Giorno Giovanna

Giorno would be analyzing her from the second she transforms a glove into a grenade launcher. Once he sees she can turn nearly any part of her outfit into a deadly tool and reinforce it with Hamon? He’d realize how terrifyingly versatile she is—someone who could potentially counter both physical and Stand-based threats.

He’d approach her with genuine interest, perhaps even respect, but he’d still keep a mental ledger of how dangerous she could be if turned against them. If she shows a strong will and sense of justice he’d start watching closely, like a chess master keeping tabs on a queen that isn’t his.

If you enjoyed this make sure to check out my other posts, and if you’d like anything specific written for a jjba character/squad parts 1-9 you can request it if my requests are open!

[naomijoestar]

Can't wait to see the Johnny PNG 💜

Me too!! What color palette are you guys hoping for? Don’t hate me but I really like the idea of ginger johnny I think it suits him alot, so I hope he’s ginger with the white and dark blue outfit! :) I also hope they give him freckles but I think that would be asking for too much lol!

[naomijoestar]

Steel….. Ball……. Run……..

[naomijoestar]

Let it be known your pfp being jolyne makes me think jolyne be writing the fics which is a funny thought

LOL this honestly made me giggle 🙃

[naomijoestar]

Do you take part 8 and 9 requests?

Now I do yes! I forgot to mention that.

[naomijoestar]

Hiii! I hope you're fine now. I don't have a fic request, but I wanted to ask you your favorite ship(s) in JoJo ( if you even have one lol). :3 Please take care of yourself and and don't tire yourself out!

I have alot of favorites, lol! I really enjoy caejose, avpol, bruabba, fugio, jolymes, gyjo, and drasagi. What are yours?

[naomijoestar]

Can I request GN! Reader having this MASSIVE crush on Okuyasu and everyone is feeling second hand embarrassment bc its ONLY Okuyasu the one that does not notice??? Ty!!! (Bonus if Okuyasu thinks GN! Reader has a crush on Josuke and that's why they are always hanging around them)

Masterlist here <3

Hello sugar! So sorry for the late reply, I hope you enjoy, this was quite rushed but I feel bad for not being active so I wanted to give you all something <3

Reader crushing on clueless okuyasu

Josuke could barely keep his composure as he watched you, once again, fumble through yet another painfully obvious attempt at flirting with Okuyasu. It was like watching a train wreck in slow motion… agonizing yet impossible to look away from.

“Wow, Oku, you’re looking really good today,” you said, leaning in slightly, a hopeful glint in your eyes.

Okuyasu, who was mid bite into his sandwich, barely spared you a glance. “Huh? Oh, thanks! I finally cleaned my jacket, so I guess it looks fresher.” He grinned, completely oblivious to the dreamy way you were staring at him. “You should wash yours too; might help.”

Josuke physically recoiled. Koichi, standing next to him, buried his face in his hands.

“Damn it,” Josuke muttered under his breath.

Koichi peeked up, shaking his head. “I can’t watch this anymore, Josuke. It’s painful.”

“I know, man. I know.”

For weeks—no, months—you had been making it painfully obvious that you were crushing hard on Okuyasu. You laughed at all his jokes (even the bad ones). You complimented him every chance you got. You always sat next to him, found excuses to hang around, even went out of your way to bring him his favorite snacks.

But the biggest problem? Okuyasu absolutely did not get it.

Even worse—he had somehow convinced himself that all your efforts, all your attention, all your adoring gazes were actually directed at Josuke.

“Man, Josuke, I gotta say,” Okuyasu said one day while you were off getting drinks for everyone, “I think they have a huge thing for you.”

Josuke choked on his own spit. “WHAT?!”

Koichi nearly dropped his books.

“Yeah, think about it, bro! They’re always hanging around us, they always laugh at your jokes—even the ones that aren’t funny.”

“They laugh at your jokes too, you idiot!” Josuke argued, exasperated.

“Nah, but, like, they really look at you all dreamy and stuff,” Okuyasu said, completely confident in his incorrect deduction. “Like, just the other day, they were staring at you while you were fixing your hair in the mirror. I swear they had heart eyes, bro.”

Josuke pinched the bridge of his nose. “OKUYASU. THEY WERE LOOKING AT YOU.”

Koichi nodded in agreement. “Seriously, I don’t know how you’re not seeing it.”

“Yeah, okay,” Okuyasu scoffed, rolling his eyes. “Next you’re gonna tell me that all those times they brought me snacks, they were actually flirting.”

Josuke and Koichi shared a long, pained look.

It all came to a head one afternoon when you decided, screw it, I’m making my feelings KNOWN.

You, Josuke, Okuyasu, and Koichi were all hanging out at the café. You had spent the past twenty minutes hyping yourself up internally, determined to finally break through Okuyasu’s wall of obliviousness.

“Okay, Oku,” you started, leaning forward slightly with a small smirk. “I have a very serious question for you.”

Okuyasu blinked. “Yeah?”

Josuke and Koichi exchanged a knowing look.

You took a deep breath. “If I asked you out on a date, would you say yes?”

Koichi gripped the edge of the table so hard his knuckles turned white. Josuke had to restrain himself from physically shaking Okuyasu.

Okuyasu, meanwhile, stared at you for a long moment. Then, his face broke into a wide, completely unbothered grin.

“Oh!! You’re so funny! That’s a good one.” He wiped an imaginary tear from his eye. “Man, if you actually meant that, I’d probably die of shock”

Silence.

The world itself seemed to pause.

Josuke looked like he was about to explode. Koichi had buried his face in his arms, muffling a pained groan.

You, meanwhile, simply sat there, frozen in place. You weren’t sure whether to cry, scream, or just accept your fate as the most tragic fool in Morioh.

Josuke couldn’t take it anymore. He slammed his hands on the table, making everyone jump. “OKUYASU.”

“Huh? What’s up, bro?”

Josuke jabbed a finger toward you. “They LIKE YOU. YOU. Not me. YOU.”

Okuyasu blinked. “Wait, what?”

Koichi lifted his head just enough to stare at him in disbelief. “Okuyasu. You can’t be serious.”

Okuyasu looked back and forth between the three of you, utterly confused. “Wait, wait, wait. Are you guys saying…” He turned to you, wide-eyed. “You actually like me? Like, like like?”

You inhaled sharply through your nose. “YES, OKUYASU.”

Okuyasu sat there, processing. Then, slowly, he grinned.

“Ohhhhhhhhhh! Oh, wow! That makes so much sense now!” He scratched the back of his head, laughing sheepishly. “Damn, I really thought you liked Josuke!”

Josuke let out a noise that sounded half like a strangled scream and half like a wheeze.

Koichi looked ready to drop dead from secondhand embarrassment.

You, meanwhile, simply buried your face in your hands.

Okuyasu, however, was still laughing to himself. “Wow, lol, this is actually kinda cool! You liking me, I mean.” He rubbed his chin, thinking for a moment before grinning widely at you. “Wanna go out sometime, then?”

You peeked up from between your fingers, exhausted. “…Yes, Okuyasu.”

“Sweet! Oh, man, this is gonna be awesome!”

Josuke groaned, slumping forward onto the table. “I hate you so much, dude.”

Koichi let out a long, suffering sigh.

But despite everything, despite the frustration, the sheer agony of watching this whole thing unfold…

You couldn’t help but smile. Okuyasu finally got it. And honestly? That was all that mattered.

I hope you enjoyed! Again, sorry for the late reply

If you enjoyed this make sure to check out my other posts, and if you’d like anything specific written for a jjba character/squad you can request it if my requests are open!

[naomijoestar]

You doing ok? Just asking to make sure that everything is going alright with you sis🙏🏿💜

Hello baby! I am okay no worries🫶🏽 I haven’t been writing, or really, been active at all on here because of certain shit I’m having to deal with. Hopefully everything is sorted out soon, and when it is, hopefully I have the motivation to be active again on here. I’m so sorry to everyone

I love you all❤️

[naomijoestar]

the girls are fighting 😳

week 4 of cjcmonth2025: genderbending (better late than never lol)

[naomijoestar]

Woah I am shocked to see actual content for this anime! Out of all the sports anime I’ve watched hajime no ippo is definitely top 3, this was so good

ੈ✩‧₊˚UNSPOKEN DESIRES

・❥・~ ꜱᴛᴀʀʀɪɴɢ. Takamura Mamoru

・❥・~ ꜱᴜᴍᴍᴀʀʏ. During an intense day at the Kamogawa Gym, Kimura showcases his precision and skill in shadow boxing, impressing those around him. However, the usual rhythm is disrupted by Takamura’s absence, which draws attention from Aoki and Kimura, as well as Ippo, who arrives looking for him. The mystery deepens before it’s revealed that Takamura is in the locker room, sharing a private moment with another character.

・❥・~ ᴄᴏɴᴛᴇɴᴛ. 18+ ONLY + MDNI !! fem ! reader, semi public sex, dirty nickname, unprotected sex,pervert Takamura,kissing,vaginal fingering,Toxic Relationship,Vaginal Sex,size difference,Locker Room Sex,choking,smut,nipple play,frustration,carry fucking,cum in pussy

・❥・~ ᴡᴄ. 4.8k

・❥・~ ɴᴏᴛᴇꜱ. Heyaa, here I am again with a Reader x Takamura, I've been asked for this for several months now, I've been doing this all night so if it's incomplete it will be noticed… of course criticism and compliment is always welcome for writing improvement! good reading (ENGLISH IS NOT MY FIRST LANGUAGE, I USED GOOGLE TRANSLATION TO DO IT IF THE WORDS DON'T MAKE SENSE THANK YOU FOR BEING COMPREHENSIBLE! )

・❥・~ Taglist : @takarito @after-laughter-come-tears @greenjacketyellowtie @graveyarddust

The Kamogawa Gym vibrated with boxing's familiar symphony: the rhythmic, metallic snap of jump ropes cutting through the air, the light but constant shuffling of soles on the polished floor, and the labored breathing of boxers training intensely in the sweat-laden atmosphere.

Kimura Tatsuya, immersed in his shadow boxing, executed his movements with precision. His fists cut through the air like arrows, each punch producing a characteristic whistle that betrayed their power. His feet, like experienced dancers, glided across the floor with remarkable agility, dodging imaginary attacks with almost artistic grace. "More fluid, even more fluid," he muttered to himself, focused on improving his footwork. In his mind, a threatening jab emerged on his right, and without hesitation, he countered with a left hook, quick as lightning, perfectly executed.

Not far from him, Aoki Masaru was bouncing with seemingly inexhaustible energy. His rope turned at an impressive speed, producing a regular and almost hypnoticwhish whish whishthat resonated in the air. Despite the intensity of his exercise, his face maintained that particular expression, a mixture of intense concentration and the nonchalance that characterized him so well. After several minutes of maintaining this sustained rhythm without faltering, he cast a furtive glance toward Kimura.

"Hey, Kimura, haven't you noticed that the training sessions have become more intense lately?" asked Aoki, maintaining his rhythm without apparent effort, the rope still whistling through the air.

Kimura, continuing his combinations with the same methodical application, responded in a measured voice: "Yeah, I've had that impression too. The coach must certainly have something in mind. I wonder if he's preparing something special for Takamura, or maybe even for Ippo."

Aoki nodded thoughtfully while continuing his exercise. "Now that you mention it, it has been a while since we've had any big fights to sink our teeth into. I'd bet Takamura's cooking something up. That guy's like a volcano, always active, impossible to keep still."

Kimura took a brief pause in his movements, wiping the sweat beading on his forehead with his forearm in a weary gesture, before responding with a small smile: "You've got a point there. With Takamura, it's always the same: either he throws himself into some completely absurd challenge, or he gets it in his head to break a new record. He never does anything halfway."

Yet, as if struck by a sudden realization, Aoki interrupted his exercise, his rope coming to a stop in his hand. Eyes narrowed, he swept the room with renewed attention.

"Hey..." he began, absently scratching the back of his head with an intrigued look. "Now that I think about it... has anyone seen Takamura today?"

Kimura furrowed his brow and turned to his friend, suddenly looking concerned. "Come to think of it... No, I haven't seen him once since we arrived this morning. That's rather unusual."

The two boxers then began to scan every corner of the training room, searching for any trace of their distinctive comrade.

Aoki shrugged with a mixture of resignation and amusement. "I'll bet you anything that big lug is up to something somewhere. With him, silence is rarely a good sign."

It was precisely at that moment that Ippo burst into the room, rushing in as if pursued by all the demons of hell. He stopped abruptly in front of them, short of breath and erratic, one hand on his knee while the other instinctively went to the back of his head, accompanying his embarrassed smile.

"Um... say..." he panted laboriously, as if he'd just run a marathon. "By any chance... have you seen Takamura anywhere?"

Aoki and Kimura exchanged a meaningful look, their eyes meeting in a moment of mutual understanding, before simultaneously bursting into uncontrollable laughter.

"Poor Ippo!" Aoki called out between fits of laughter, his face lighting up with a mocking smile. "You look as lost as a kid who's wandered off in the shopping mall!"

Kimura, arms crossed over his chest and an amused smile on his lips, chimed in: "This is something else! You've barely arrived, and the first thing you do is ask us where Takamura is? Have you developed some special 'Takamura detection' sixth sense or what?"

Ippo, still catching his breath, shrugged with a confused and slightly embarrassed air. "Actually... I just ran into the coach in the hallway... He told me he'd seen Takamura not long ago. But since then, it's been impossible to track him down. I've looked in every possible place I could think of."

Aoki thoughtfully rubbed his chin, adopting a reflective pose. "Hmm, interesting... Did you only look in the gym, or did you check outside too? Because when Takamura decides to disappear, he never does anything halfway. It's his style, everything to excess."

Ippo shook his head negatively, his breathing finally starting to normalize. "No, I haven't seen him around. I thought he might have gone to train somewhere else... but that seems odd. Usually, he's like a leech with the coach, always hanging around him."

Kimura, hands placed on his hips in a casual posture, shrugged with a smirking smile. "Who knows... Maybe he's just gone for his daily jog..."

A heavy silence suddenly fell over the room, broken by Aoki who abruptly turned to Ippo, a new question coming to mind. "By the way... And [Y/N]? Has anyone seen her?"

Ippo, caught off guard by this unexpected question, began looking frantically around him, as if the answer would emerge from the walls. "Oh... Actually, I thought she was training with the coach?"

The three companions then exchanged meaningful looks, each beginning to wonder where the last member of their group might be, and if her absence had any connection to Takamura's.

.

.

.

.

.

You were breathing hard, out of breath. A large hand covered your mouth to muffle your moans. Your body was pressed against the cold locker room wall, your face pulled back by that same hand that almost gagged you.

You were literally drooling from the intense pleasure that Takamura was giving you as he possessed you with animal ferocity.

His free hands roamed eagerly over your body, exploring every curve with burning possessiveness. Your muffled moans echoed in the locker room as his fingers dug into your flesh. As he kissed your neck, the sensation of his lips against your neck, alternating between kisses and bites, made you tremble with desire. In this moment of absolute ecstasy, you completely surrendered to the wild passion consuming you both.

You moaned his name in a trembling, broken voice, bringing a satisfied smile to his lips. Your voice, barely more than a hoarse whisper, devotedly let escape: "Takamura..."

Takamura growls in a husky and possessive voice "Fuck yeah... I love when you say my name like that. Again." which you do immediately, your breathing ragged and broken, trying as best you can to hold back the sounds threatening to escape your lips. "T-Takamura, please... stop torturing me like this..." Your desperate plea only intensifies his desire. Takamura, his powerful hands deeply embedded in the soft flesh of your hips, slowly slides a hand along your body until he reaches your burning core, drawing a long shiver of anticipation from you. He presses his arousal, clearly visible through the thin fabric of his gym sweats, against your backside, savoring each of your reactions as he continues his delicious game of seduction and domination.

"I've barely touched you and look at the state you're in already, completely soaked and desperate like a bitch," he whispered mockingly against your ear. You shot him a dark look, burning with mixed desire and frustration. "Shut the fuck up," you hiss through clenched teeth, which only widened his arrogant and satisfied smile. An uncontrolled moan escaped your lips as he continued his sweet torture, his expert fingers tracing slow and calculated circles on your throbbing core. The combination of his precise caresses and his hot breath against your neck made you tremble so violently that your legs threatened to give way under the intensity of pleasure. Your lips, bruised from being bitten to stifle your moans, let escape tiny pearls of blood that you didn't even notice, too lost in the sensations overwhelming you. Takamura, finally freeing your mouth from his possessive hand, slowly slid it toward your chest still trapped in your tank top. His skilled fingers found a breast that he began to tease with obvious delight, drawing new sighs of pleasure from you.

His expert fingers played with your breast, kneading it with increasing intensity, alternating between soft caresses and firmer pinches that made you squirm with pleasure. Each twist of your hardened nipples sent waves of intense sensations through your body, making you moan without restraint. Takamura seemed to take perverse pleasure in watching you writhe under his attentions, his free hand continuing its merciless exploration of your soaked intimacy. The combination of his expert fingers on your chest and his precise caresses on your most sensitive part kept you in a constant state of painful arousal.

"So tight and wet... You like that, don't you? I'm going to make you cum so hard you won't be able to stand," he whispers in a husky voice against your ear, as his fingers sink deeper into you, precisely seeking that spot that will make you lose all control. You feel the orgasm rising inexorably, a wave of intense pleasure threatening to engulf you completely. In a final moment of lucidity, you press your hand against your mouth, stifling the cry threatening to escape - the last thing you need is for the entire Kamogawa gym to discover your torrid liaison with Takamura. The orgasm hits you with incredible violence, making your whole body tremble as your legs threaten to give way beneath you. You collapse against the wall, breathing erratically, barely able to articulate a weak "N-no more... I can't take it..."

But Takamura isn't finished with you. His powerful hands grip your hips, holding you firmly against him as he rubs his imposing erection against your backside, leaving a visible trace of moisture on the thin fabric of his sweatpants. "You're going to make me cum too, doll," he growls in a voice filled with raw desire and unspoken promises, his fingers sinking deeper into the tender flesh of your hips.

With a fluid and impatient movement, he made your hips undulate against his pulsing erection, demonstrating his urgent desire. In a sudden gesture that took your breath away, he spun you around to pin you face-to-face with him, your back meeting the cold surface of the locker room wall. His skilled hands removed his sweatshirt and tank top in one fluid motion, revealing his impressive musculature. His sculpted pectorals immediately captivated your gaze, making you blush despite yourself.

"So, admiring the view?" he asked with a smug smile, noticing your appreciative gaze. You slightly turned your eyes away, eyebrows furrowed in an annoyed pout. "Just do what you have to do!" He let out an amused laugh, his expression lighting up with a playful gleam. "Start by taking off that top... I want to see those magnificent breasts move while I take you."

You stared at him with wide eyes, face scarlet but gaze still defiant. "You pervert..." you whispered, while slowly lifting your tank top and bra. Your breasts were revealed, their natural movement instantly drawing his attention. "Stop staring at me like that... You're making me uncomfortable..." Takamura, his gaze fixed on your chest, murmured in a husky voice with a big smile on his face: "Even in adult films, you can't find breasts as perfect as yours."

Before you could reply with another insult, a surprised gasp escaped you when he grabbed your knees, spreading them with an assured gesture. You suddenly felt exposed, your intimacy still wet from your previous orgasm. A slight shiver ran through you as you instinctively curled up. Takamura couldn't hold back a satisfied smile at his handiwork. In a deliberately slow movement, he slid his sweatpants and boxers down his muscled legs, freeing his imposing member crowned with a small patch of dark hair whose tip already glistened with desire, making your eyes widen at this intimidating sight.

With his two thumbs, he gently spread the lips of your intimacy, revealing its glistening and throbbing flesh. This simple movement made you shiver violently, your body still hypersensitive from your last orgasm making you squirm uncontrollably. "T-Takamura, I-I'm stil sensitive!" you stammered in a trembling voice. Takamura let out a mocking laugh, his tone still as arrogant when he replied "Stop whining, this is just the beginning."

With an expert motion, he grabbed your knees, pushing them against your chest in a deliciously obscene way. The position left you completely exposed, your slightly raised buttocks pressed against his hardened member, sending shivers down your spine. "I'm going to fuck this pussy so hard my cum leaks out," he whispered in a voice hoarse with desire.

This phrase made you look up at him, meeting his gaze burning with animal desire. His dilated pupils watched you with a predatory intensity that made you shiver with anticipation. Grabbing his imposing member, he began to rub it gently against your intimacy and swollen clitoris, drawing uncontrollable trembles from your hypersensitive body. "A-ahhh-- Slow!" you weakly moan, tears of frustration beginning to form at the corners of your eyes. "mh-mmh ! please… Stop torturing me like this!"

Takamura then leaned against you, your chests pressing together, his burning skin against yours. A deep laugh resonated near your ear as his lips brushed its sensitive lobe. "You want me to take you, don't you? You want me to possess you savagely, make you scream with pleasure..." A bestial growl escaped his throat. "Well, I'm going to fulfill all your desires, beautiful..." His powerful hands firmly gripped your hips as he pinned you against the wall with controlled force. "I'm going to make love to you so intensely that my name will be the only thing you can still say..." His eyes, darker than ever, devoured you with their gaze. "And you're going to love every second..."

He began to slowly insert the tip of his imposing member, and even this simple initial penetration was already making you see stars, tearing uncontrollable moans from your throat that echoed in the locker room. "Fuck, I haven't even put half my cock in and you're already screaming like that," he whispered in a husky voice against your ear, visibly satisfied with the effect he had on you. In response, you could only moan louder as he continued to sink into you millimeter by millimeter, your intimacy stretching deliciously to accommodate him. "So tight... so hot..." he growled, his fingers digging deeper into the tender flesh of your hips.

Takamura, overwhelmed by impatience and desire, has suddenly accelerated his movement, wanting to possess you without further delay. You immediately feel a sharp pain that makes you flinch. “A-ah! Slow,--it hurts!” you weakly protest. He slows slightly, looking at you with a mixture of arrogance and burning desire. “It's okay, you can take me easily considering how wet you are,” he replies with a smirk, his eyes fixed on the spot where your bodies meet.

This crude remark made you growl in frustration, annoyed by his immature tone. "You idiot..." you hissed through your teeth. He rolled his eyes slightly, his smile widening further as he realized he had made you angry. "It's fiiiine," he hummed mockingly. Then, taking advantage of this moment of distraction, he suddenly thrust all the way into you. The sudden sensation made you throw your head back, a cry of pleasure threatening to escape your lips. With a quick gesture, he pressed his large hand against your mouth, muffling the moan that would have betrayed your presence in the locker room.

"T-too much!" you tried to say as you were literally smothered by Takamura's powerful hand covering your mouth. The pain made you cry slightly, tears pearling in the corners of your eyes, which immediately drew his attentive gaze. Noticing your discomfort, he gently removed his hand from your lips, letting out a warm breath against your trembling skin. With unexpected tenderness contrasting with his usual ardor, he approached to capture your lips in a passionate and deep kiss, his tongue dancing sensually with yours in an erotic waltz that made you momentarily forget the pain.

Along with this gesture of overwhelming intimacy, he began to move his hips at a deliberately slow rhythm, without giving you completely time to adjust to his imposing member that filled you so perfectly. Your muffled moans, a mixture of pleasure and discomfort, blended harmoniously with Takamura's hoarse growls as he separated from you to catch his breath, a thin thread of saliva still connecting your lips swollen from your passionate kisses. His intense gaze met yours as a satisfied smile stretched his lips, his hips beginning to adopt a more sustained rhythm now that your body had slightly adjusted to his impressive thickness and considerable length. His growls of pleasure became deeper, more animal-like, as he observed with obvious satisfaction the effect his member had on you, making you gradually lose all control.

Takamura slowly lowered his eyes to your breasts, which swayed delicately with the rhythm of his steady hip movements. His powerful hands couldn't resist the urge to caress them, grab them and squeeze them in an obscene way that immediately made you moan uncontrollably, your voice echoing against the locker room walls. "hah..Fuck, stop moaning like that... someone might hear us and wonder what's going on," he whispered in a husky voice, his eyebrows slightly furrowed despite the obvious desire darkening his gaze.

You bit your lower lip while giving him a provocative look, your eyes sparkling with defiance. "Bastard, you did that on purpose... You know exactly what it does to me when you touch me like that..." That characteristic arrogant smile appeared on his face, making you sigh in exasperation as he began to gradually intensify the rhythm of his hips. The obscene sound of your bodies colliding resonated throughout the locker room, amplifying your moans which were becoming more and more uncontrollable. Saliva ran down your chin while your eyes began to roll back from the intensity of the pleasure overwhelming you, his rhythm becoming ever faster and deeper. His name escaped your lips like an endless litany.

"I-I'm going to cum!.. I can't take it anymore..." This breathless confession made him suddenly slow down before pulling out completely, leaving you trembling and frustrated. You stared at him with wide eyes of incomprehension and unfulfilled desire. "Wh-what are you doing? I was so close..." Without saying a word, Takamura firmly grabbed you by the shoulders, lifting you with controlled strength to pin you against the wall facing him. His powerful hands gripped your thighs as he stood, lifting you while holding you perfectly in position as he repositioned himself against your throbbing entrance before plunging in with a single fluid motion.

You were completely impaled on his imposing member, a slight bulge visible against the taut skin of your stomach testifying to his presence inside you. In this new position, he reached even deeper places, perfectly hitting that sensitive spot that made you see stars. Your cries of pleasure became impossible to contain, echoing against the locker room walls. The muscles of his shoulders rolled under his skin as he held you firmly against him, his hands gripping firmly the tender flesh of your buttocks while he continued

to pound into you with increasing intensity, each movement deeper and more powerful than the last. Your entire body trembled under his impetuous thrusts, each impact sending waves of electrifying pleasure that surged through your entire being like a tidal wave of sensations. Your legs wrapped tightly around his waist, holding you in place while you completely surrendered to the intoxicating sensation of his dominant power. His fingers dug deep into your tender flesh, marking your skin with red marks that appeared and faded with the rhythm of his frantic movements, silent witnesses to your devouring passion. You felt your breathing become more and more erratic, your heart beating so hard in your chest that it seemed to want to escape, and you knew, deep inside, that you were about to fall into an abyss of endless pleasure. The tension rose inexorably in your lower abdomen, a ball of fire just waiting to explode. And then, with one final devastating thrust, he plunged so deep inside you that you thought you saw stars, making you explode in a cry of pleasure so intense that it echoed long throughout the locker room, a sonic testimony to your absolute ecstasy...

Exhausted but fulfilled, you slowly caught your breath while the last echoes of this passionate moment faded into the muffled silence of the locker room. Your aching muscles reminded you of the intensity of what you had just experienced, and a gentle warmth still lingered throughout your body.

The footsteps gradually faded in the hallway, and you let out a long sigh of satisfaction, your body still coursing with slight tremors that testified to the intensity of the moment. Takamura, true to himself, sketched that characteristic smirk as he met your gaze still veiled with pleasure.

"See that? We're really experts at avoiding compromising situations," he whispered in a low voice, his tone overflowing with barely concealed amusement and pride.

You rolled your eyes, but couldn't hold back a nervous laugh that betrayed your own amusement. "You're really impossible, Takamura... Completely uncontrollable..."

He raised an eyebrow with deliberate arrogance, visibly delighted by your reaction, and leaned close to your ear, his warm breath caressing your sensitive skin: "And admit that's exactly why you can't get enough of me, right?"

Cheeks burning with embarrassment, you were about to reply when a familiar voice resonated through the locker room door that was on the opposite side from where you were, so they couldn't see you. The sudden voice made you jump.

Takamura had barely pulled on his sweatshirt when a voice rang out in the gym, breaking the silence.

"Takamura! Are you there? Are you messing with us or what? We thought you'd gone for your run! Have you seen [Y/N] by any chance?"

It was Aoki, whose irritation was clearly showing. Kimura, hanging back slightly, let out an exasperated sigh.

Takamura shrugged his shoulders, appearing perfectly relaxed. Adjusting his sleeves with provocative nonchalance, he briefly glanced at you. A smirk spread across his lips, and he leaned in slightly to whisper.

"Hide well, princess," he said in a soft but playful voice. "I'll give them a show, don't worry."

He gave you one last conspiratorial wink before leaving the locker room, his pace slow and calculated, as if savoring every second.

Barely had he crossed the threshold when Aoki stepped forward, visibly annoyed. "Hey, what's that weird smell in here? It's like a mix of sweat and... I don't know what, but it's gross!"

Kimura, arms crossed, fixed him with a jaded look. "Seriously, Aoki, is that all you have to say? We're looking for Takamura, not conducting an odor investigation."

Takamura, true to form, ignored the comment as he passed by them with a smirk. "You're just jealous that I smell better than both of you combined," he threw over his shoulder before disappearing into the gym.

Meanwhile, you remained hidden behind the lockers, your heart racing, cheeks burning. The situation was becoming increasingly tense, but your legs refused to move. You knew you needed to leave this place before someone discovered you, but the intensity of the moment seemed to still paralyze you.

Frozen in place, breathing still irregular and legs shaky, you remained in the locker room that was growing increasingly quiet. Only the frantic beating of your heart and the gentle pulsing of your body persisted, still under the influence of the consuming passion you had just shared with Takamura. The sensation of his essence slowly trickling down your thighs reminded you of the intensity of your embrace, triggering a new shiver of pleasure. Eyes closed, you let yourself be overwhelmed by this wave of intoxicating emotions.

"I should really head back now, before someone else comes," you whispered softly to yourself, your voice still slightly trembling. With obvious difficulty, you slowly stood up, your shaky legs and slight unsteadiness betraying the intensity of what you had just experienced. Simply standing required considerable effort, and each step toward the communal shower seemed to take an eternity, but you took comfort in the idea of being able to freshen up and erase the traces of recent events. Once under the lukewarm water, you let the liquid flow over your sensitive skin, washing away not only the sweat but also the still-burning memories that made your heart race.

Alone in the shower, the soothing sound of water echoing against the tiles, you allowed yourself several minutes to regain your composure before returning to the locker room, a towel carefully wrapped around your still-trembling body. With measured but quick movements, you changed, opting for particularly loose sweatpants and a baggy sweatshirt, clothes chosen as much for their comfort as for their ability to conceal the marks on your skin. Sitting on the hard wooden bench, you focused on the simple but reassuring task of putting on your socks one at a time, breathing deeply in the air now scented with the fresh, clean smell of your shower that had thankfully replaced the more compromising odors.

It was precisely at that moment that the locker room door opened with a light but distinct creak, a sound soft enough to seem almost timid but audible enough to immediately catch your attention. You looked up, and your breath caught in your throat. Ippo stood in the doorway, as still as a statue, his face expressing a complex mixture of genuine surprise and obvious embarrassment.

"Oh, uh... [Y/N]?" he stammered awkwardly, his eyes quickly darting away from yours as a particularly visible pink tinge spread across his cheeks. His discomfort was palpable, and it was obvious he absolutely hadn't expected to find you here in this place.

You stared at him for what seemed like an eternity, your heart resuming its frantic pace in the face of this unexpected encounter, before trying to mask your growing nervousness behind a semblance of normalcy. "Hi, Ippo. How are you?" Your voice sounded strangely calm despite your inner turmoil.

He mumbled a barely audible response, his words tangling in their rush: "Y-yeah, I'm fine..." But his tone severely lacked conviction, and a terrifying thought crossed your mind: what if he had heard something earlier? This simple idea was enough to send a wave of intense heat to your face, and you quickly looked away, your cheeks burning with embarrassment.

A particularly heavy silence settled in the locker room, the atmosphere becoming almost electric with palpable tension. Ippo, visibly as uncomfortable as you, seemed to be desperately searching for a valid excuse to slip away quickly, his gaze nervously scanning the room as if looking for an escape route.

Finally, after what seemed like an eternity, Ippo cleared his throat softly. "I... I just came to get my boxing gloves," he whispered, quickly heading to his locker, carefully avoiding your gaze. You took advantage of this diversion to gather your things, eager to leave this space that had suddenly become too cramped.

As you headed toward the exit, your bag held tightly against you, Ippo suddenly turned around, his usually gentle expression tinged with unusual determination. "[Y/N]..." he began, hesitating, before abruptly stopping, as if the words failed him. You stopped dead in your tracks, your heart pounding, dreading what he might say next.

"I... I know it's none of my business, but... take care of yourself, okay?" he finally said, his gaze filled with sincere concern. You felt your heart tighten at his disarming kindness, not knowing how to react to this unexpected show of concern. With a weak smile, you simply nodded before quickly slipping out of the locker room, leaving behind a thoughtful and visibly troubled Ippo.

As you almost hurriedly left the locker room, Ippo's words still echoed in your mind. His tone, marked with sincerity and a hint of concern, had caught you off guard. You clutched your bag tighter against yourself, hoping to calm the tumult of your thoughts.

In the silence of the hallway, you took a deep breath, trying to center yourself. But part of you couldn't help replaying that moment over and over, wondering if Ippo had seen or heard something he shouldn't have.

Meanwhile, in the locker room, Ippo remained motionless, eyebrows furrowed, as if lost in thought. He looked at his locker for a moment without really seeing it, before sighing softly. "What are you up to, Takamura..." he whispered to himself, shaking his head with an expression caught between confusion and resignation.

Finally, he grabbed his gloves and left the locker room in turn, determined not to let his doubts overwhelm him further. But deep down, a worry persisted in him, a feeling that something important was escaping him.