#jjba reader insert

[cinnbar-bun]

The Chain I

Relationship: Johnny Joestar x GN!Reader, minor Diego Brando x GN!Reader

Prompt: "Running in the shadows, damn your love, damn your lies / Break the silence, damn the dark, damn the light."

Summary: You've known each other for so long, ever since you were kids. But after he's become so unrecognizable, you have to wonder if being chained to him is worth it anymore.

Rating: SFW

Word Count: ~3.5k

Notes: Childhood friends to haters to lovers later, no spoilers for part 7, BUT mentions of death/spoilers of Johnny's backstory. Slight love triangle for this chapter, Johnny being a major douche, angry fight at the end, minor swearing. This chapter takes place pre-part 7.

Taglist (message me or fill out the form in the pinned to be added!): @gingernut1314 @adeadcreator @starr-l1ghtt

Read on my AO3 here!

A/n: I got nothing to say besties I love causing Johnny pain!!!!

“Nicholas, Johnny, remember that I have a guest coming over today. Can I ask that both of you remain on your best behavior?” George said sternly, a subtle warning that if the two acted up, there would be consequences to pay for it. The two boys agreed, back straight as they awaited the ‘guest’.

George exhaled and uncrossed his arms. “You two will not need to be in the study when they come by. My friend has a young child, around your age, Johnny. I expect that you two will treat them properly.” 

George didn’t wait for a response, walking away to prepare himself. Nicholas and Johnny glanced at each other, wide, eager smiles on their face as they thought about who they’d see. 

When the ‘guests’ finally arrived, Johnny momentarily forgot his manners, ignoring the man and instead glancing for the child George talked about. When his blue eyes landed on yours, something within him stirred, as if he was magnetized to you. 

He ran to you, grabbing your hands in his, and gave a toothy grin. “I’m Johnny! What’s your name?” 

Johnny could never explain why he was so drawn to you. You, likewise, never stood a chance against a fate when it came to Johnny. You two were practically attached at the hip, almost never seen without the other. 

Johnny (but mostly Nicholas) was the one who taught you how to secretly ride a horse whenever you visited the estate. You taught Johnny different plants he should avoid and what was edible after he had a mishap with poison ivy. Johnny liked getting lost in the forest with you. You liked staying up at night and pointing out different constellations with him from your book. 

“That’s a shooting star!” Johnny yelled, shooting upright and pressing his finger against the glass window. 

“What? Really?” You squinted. 

“Yeah, but you missed it, slowpoke,” he rolled his eyes as he flicked your forehead. 

“I’m not slow…” 

“And yet you’re always last when it comes to racing,” Johnny smugly pronounced. “What are we at? 1000 - 0?” 

“Ugh, you’re a jerk,” you huffed. “Now, you saw a shooting star. You gotta make a wish.” 

“Oh, right,” he said as he turned around to the face the night sky. He closed his eyes, exhaled, and clasped his hands together. “Okay, did it. I wished we’d be friends forever.” 

“Johnny!” You shouted. “You can’t tell me that, now it won’t come true!” 

“Don’t tell me you believe that old thing,” he snorted. “Come on, you know it’s not true.” 

“But what if it is? Now we might not be friends.” 

Johnny glanced back at you and sighed before he took his seat back on his bed next to you. “Nah. I know we will be friends forever. Even my dad thinks you’re part of the family now.”

“But how do we really know?” You asked anxiously. Johnny tapped his chin and shrugged. 

“Guess we don’t. But I’m not gonna believe a dumb superstition. We’re a team, right?” He insisted, putting his pinkie out to you. You felt yourself ease up at his confidence and wrapped your pinkie around his. 

“Yeah, a team.” He smiled proudly at your words. 

He had no reason in his mind to think of anything else. The four years you two had known each other had to have solidified your bond for life. His luck may have been strange, but you were a constant in his life. That wasn’t changing anytime soon.

You both should have known it was the beginning of end. At the age of 9, you and Johnny stood by Nicholas’s coffin. Johnny had clung to you, sobbing that it was all his fault, that he was the reason Nicholas died. If only he had just drowned Danny like George asked, if only he just listened, then Nicholas would still be there. 

He was fundamentally changed by Nicholas’s death. Why wouldn’t he be? That was his dear brother. You had grown to see Nicholas as an older brother as well, the type of good-natured sibling who made sure you and Johnny were happy. But Johnny was not Nicholas. 

You knew that. Johnny knew that. Most of all, George knew that. 

But Johnny kept continuing to go back on his horse, insisting he was fine, demanding you stop asking how he was. He was good. He would race. He would make George proud. He would honor Nicholas through his racing.

Johnny devoted so much time to racing, as if his life depended on it. Perhaps it did, in his mind, but you were still there, watching. You would read quietly by the small bench as Johnny lectured his horse for not jumping as high over the hurdle today. You would do your schoolwork while Johnny timed himself again and again, practicing lap after lap. Sometimes, Diego Brando would come to you and start a conversation with you. 

Johnny wouldn’t pay attention, too busy fixing the reins of his horse to care. And you, who really didn’t have much else besides him, hated seeing your best friend so hurt. So you would wait, as usual. 

“Do you think I’ll be able to make my dad proud?” Johnny mulls one evening as you both drink on the hill you two frequented as kids.

“I think you will,” you begin. “I think he’s proud of you now.” 

“That’s a damn lie and you know it.” 

You pursed your lips and took another sip. “I’m sorry.” 

“Yeah. So am I.” 

It only seemed to get worse from there. Johnny would make time for you infrequently, still trying to keep up the idea of you being his ‘best friend’ to those around him. You didn’t know which you’d rather deal with at this point; his total silence towards you while hordes of girls and celebrities flocked to him, or his half-hearted attempt at clinging to the friendship you two had. Both killed you inside, and despite knowing deep down that you should cut your losses, you still stuck around. 

You stuck around when he asked for you to cover for him while he was out drinking with some friends. You stuck around when he made you do the group project by yourself because some rich governor wanted to meet him later. You stuck around when he didn’t say a word as a ‘friend’ of his made fun of you for being so clingy towards Johnny like a lost puppy. 

You knew you shouldn’t have stuck around for that. You knew you deserved better. 

But that stupid, stupid part of you that yearned for Johnny to just treat you like he did before always won out over logic. That ridiculous voice inside you said that being hurt by Johnny was better than no Johnny at all. Because Johnny was your best friend, your first friend. 

Johnny was a lot of your firsts, in fact. He was not only your first friend, but the one who first taught you to ride a horse, the one you first slept over with, the one you did your first trip with, and your first kiss when you two tried to copy what you saw a couple do as kids. Scarily enough, he was not only those things, but he was also your first love. You stupidly fell in love with your childhood best friend. Like a damn cliche, you fell for him, never recognizing that the warmth you felt for him went just beyond friends. 

But it was too late to even confess this, as he had already was on his third girlfriend of the month, never sparing you a glance beyond a ‘thanks’ for doing his work. You would be foolish enough to try, but naive you that wished for everything under the sun for just a chance with Johnny still stayed. Maybe one day he’d wake up and recognize the people that encircled him after his race didn’t care. Maybe one day he’d notice that you were still there, cheering him on for his races, even as he came in second almost every time. Maybe, maybe, maybe, that foolish wish he made under the star would come true and you’d stay friends forever. 

Like always, you sat on the bench by the training grounds of the estate, reading for the upcoming test you would have soon, that Johnny would likely want you to summarize for him and his buddies. You heard footsteps approaching, but didn’t stop reading. 

“Johnny, what do you-” 

“Me? Johnny? Please. I thought you’d know better than that by now to compare me to him,” a smug voice reproached you. You looked up in confusion before noticing the cocky stature of none other than Diego Brando. 

“Oh… Diego. Do you want me to leave?” You asked, beginning to pack up your things. Diego only ever made casual conversation with you after all these years, so you had no clue why he was walking up to you so suddenly. 

“Hm, no. I just couldn’t help but notice that Joestar boy left you alone again.” 

You rolled your eyes as Diego taunted you. “If that’s all you came here to tell me, you can leave. I don’t need to hear that from you.” 

“So sensitive. You’re beginning to resemble a cornered dog.” 

“Diego, enough. Seriously. Just leave me alone if you have nothing nice to say,” you glared. 

“If that’s what you wish. I was going to offer you a chance to go for a ride with me, but if I am so horrible that you don’t even wish to talk to me, then I’ll be on my merry way. Goodbye, maybe that Joestar will throw you a bone one day,” Diego sneered as he turned around and waved his hand. 

“Huh? Wait!” You shot up and followed after him. “Why are you offering that to me?” 

“Must I explain it to you?” “I would like you to.” 

“Hah. No,” he deadpanned. “And look at you, already following after me. It seems you can’t help but listen to those more powerful than you.” 

“I’m not doing it because-” 

“I don’t really care,” Diego replied, throwing on the saddle for his horse and fitting it properly. “Would you like to come, or not?” 

Johnny despised Diego more than anything. He’d be furious if he knew you were even talking to him. Diego sensed your hesitation, sighing dramatically and extending his hand to you. “If you want to go waiting around like a lost sheep for that boy, by all means, go ahead. I’m offering you a horseback ride, not a marriage proposal.” 

Within an instant, you threw your reservations away and gripped his hand, letting him help you onto the saddle. He was right. Johnny was busy elsewhere and this was just a simple ride around the estate. Why should you care what Johnny thought now? 

Diego snorted in amusement as your brows furrowed, but didn’t make another comment, instead, snapping the reins of the horse against it, causing the horse to begin galloping. 

For the first time in a while, you had an enjoyable evening. You simply basked in the wind as Diego expertly maneuvered the horse around. It didn’t take much before you two began talking to each other, pleasantly surprised by how Diego was talking to you when Johnny was not around. It was like seeing a whole new side to the genius jockey that he rarely ever showed before. 

Soon, though, he took the horse back to the stable and promptly helped you off. You were about to collect your bearings and go when he spoke once more to you as he was rummaging through a box of supplies for tending to his horse. 

“You should really stand up for yourself for once.” 

“Huh?” 

“You heard me. Are you really going to let that boy trample you all over every day? Come on. It’s pathetic to witness. Even I felt bad seeing you like that,” he replied in an even tone. While his words were harsh, it lacked his usual mocking tone. 

“I don’t need your pity, Diego,” you stiffened, knowing he had a point. 

“I know you don’t need it. What you really need is a spine. Too bad all the money in the world can’t afford you that,” he commented. “Oh well. It’s not my place. But if you get tired of being that boy’s little mule, you can come to me. I’d be happy to have you as a cheerleader for me.” 

He looked you in the eyes this time. Instead of a haughty, egotistical smirk, it was a frank smile. You were taken aback by his casual friendliness and nodded. 

“Thank you. And thank you again for the ride. I needed it.” 

“Hmph. Don’t go around telling others that, though. Lord knows I don’t need more tabloids on my ass over this.” 

“I won’t. It’ll be our secret,” you said as you began to walk back to your original spot at the bench with a more relaxed stance. For once, there wasn’t a heavy pit in your stomach that threatened to consume you, but a gentle warmth that slowly blossomed there. 

That warmth didn’t last long when a few days after, Johnny and Diego were set to compete in another race. Of course you were going, that was always a given, and like always, Johnny gave you a ticket to let you in. Even if he was never around much, he left you the tickets in your bag, almost as if it was just expected of you. Perhaps it was, at this rate. You’ve been doing this for almost five years now. 

You sat in the bleachers next to a few other familiar faces- mostly the elite who came to socialize or discuss some business and gamble, or younger people who came to try and entice the racers into giving them more attention. You were to offer moral support and comfort Johnny when he’d get frustrated for being silver. 

It was a while before Johnny was set to race, but when he did, the crowd whispered in hushed tones if he would finally surpass Diego today. Some had bet on him, while others kept to their trusty pick of Diego. The gunshot went off, and the horses sprinted. It was close. So, so close. Johnny was more determined than ever to win this race, and it showed in the near sliver of space between him and Diego. 

Come on, Johnny, come on!

You held your breath, but as it was for so long, close was not close enough. Diego had won, but only by a measly half a second. Your heart dropped as Johnny grimaced and hurried his horse back to the stable. Silver was not good enough. Silver would never make George look at him. Not while Diego was winning race after race, surrounded in heaps of gold. 

You stood up to go meet with Johnny, hurriedly wanting to comfort him and offer more words of encouragement that would probably amount to nothing. Because nothing was enough, not until he won. Just as you were in the stables and looking for Johnny, someone clearing their throat beside you caught your attention. You turned around and saw Diego, that smug look on his face again as he held a gold trophy. 

“Not even a congratulations?” He joked. 

“Oh, sorry. Congrats, Diego. You did wonderful out there, today,” you complimented him. Even if Johnny was your friend, Diego was clearly a special prodigy at horseriding. It was no wonder he was called the ‘genius jockey’ all throughout America and Europe. You were about to continue when he grabbed your wrist. 

“That eager to see Joestar? I’m sure he can wait. I wanted to ask you something,” Diego began. 

“Hm? Go ahead.” 

“They’re organizing a party for my win soon. Tomorrow night, actually. I’m allowed one guest. Perhaps you’re interested in ditching Joestar for the evening and coming with me?” You gasped and felt your face heat up. 

“Diego, I-” 

“Are you kidding me?!” A voice yelled. You jumped at the tone but knew instantly who it was. Diego snorted and placed a hand on his hips. 

“Well now. Can’t you see we’re in the middle of something, Joestar?” Diego snapped. 

“Back the hell off, Brando, I don’t wanna deal with your shit right now,” Johnny venomously spouted. He stomped over and stood between you and Diego. “Is that what you’ve been doing? Huh?” 

“What? Johnny, what are you talking about?” You replied, confused at why he was suddenly aiming his vitriol at you. 

“You know damn well what I’m talking about! I invited you here, and now you’re planning trysts with this asshole?” 

“I didn’t even-” 

“What kind of friend are you?! You know how much I hate him! Why are you going to see him behind my back?” 

Your blood began boiling at all these accusations. You clenched your fists and jaw, trying to control yourself. “I didn’t do anything behind your back. Diego just asked me a question.” 

“Please, Diego never justs ‘asks’ questions. And don’t lie to me. I saw what you two did the other day!” 

“So what? It was just a little ride! It’s not like we did anything!” 

“So you admit you’ve been seeing him!” Johnny pointed a finger at you. Diego made his presence known again and stepped closer. 

“What, jealous, Joestar? That your ‘best friend’ finally opened their eyes and prefers me over your lousy company?” 

“Yeah, right. I don’t give a crap about you, Brando!” Diego didn’t respond, instead spitting at the floor near Johnny’s decaying shoes. 

“You talk big for second place. A second-rate jockey like you should know better than to try and insult me after that piss-poor performance you gave today.” 

“You damn-” Johnny nearly launched at Diego before you held him back. “What the hell? Let go of me!” 

“Johnny, seriously? You can’t go attacking people!” You lectured. 

“Why the hell are you defending him? Huh? You like him that much?” 

“It’s not about liking, Johnny, it’s just-” 

“Just what? Think you can suddenly do better than me? You ain’t that special!” Johnny screamed at the top of his lungs. Time froze as you saw Johnny’s eyes widen in horror at what he just told. Even Diego was taken aback for a moment before you let go of Johnny and swiftly smacked him across the face. 

“Screw you! You’re horrible!” You trembled, the years of anger and humiliation now getting to you. Johnny held his cheek with his hand as you unleashed everything you felt inside. “How can you tell me I’m a bad friend when you never acted like a friend in years?! How can you get mad at me when I wait around for you, when I embarrass myself daily thinking one day you’ll treat me like an actual person and not a damn dog?!” 

“I didn’t mean to-” 

“I don’t wanna hear it from you, Johnny! I should’ve done this earlier! I should’ve stopped hanging around and wishing for you to grow up! Because you never will! You’re an even bigger asshole than anyone else I’ve ever met! All you do is think you’re hot shit, when really, you’re just an insecure little brat!” 

Johnny’s face furrowed as his ego felt more bruised than before. “Really? If you think I’m such an asshole, then why don’t you just go?” 

“I will! I don’t wanna see you ever again!” 

“Oh yeah? See if you’ll get anywhere without me being the one to prop your name up! See if you’ll be anyone if I didn’t give you some attention!” 

“I hate you, Johnny! I wish we never even met!” Your voice echoed in the stables. Johnny’s hands shook in anger as he gripped the second place trophy tight. You were breathing raggedly, but all Johnny could see was Diego smirking at him, as if taunting him. Rubbing it in his face that he caused this, that your frustration was all his doing. 

In a fit of rage and guilt, Johnny flung the trophy at Diego, only barely missing the English jockey. He didn’t bother to stay in the stables any longer, instead walking away from you for good. 

“Yeah, well, have fun with him then. Go suck up to him as much as you can, because when I win, I’m not gonna let you come back,” Johnny bitterly stated, ripping off the gold pin you got him so many years ago as a good luck charm and tossing it to the dirt. 

“I’d never want you back anyways,” you spat, solidifying ten years of friendship coming to an end, never to be seen as anything more than a bad memory.

[sweetheartsnips]

Narciso Anasui x fem!sick!reader

Tags: swearing? reader has a cold? Anasui is no longer in prison. That's it I guess

A/N: Ugh I love Anasui's character so much. I know he is so not sane but I think he grew a lot throughout Stone Ocean, and genuinely had a good heart and a sense of justice by the end of the story <3

Enjoy ♡

“Okay. Wow. You look terrible.”

That was the first thing Anasui said when he walked in and found you curled up on the couch, wrapped in a blanket, your hair a mess and your nose somehow an even worse mess.

You blinked at him groggily. “Gee. Thanks, bitch.”

He didn’t miss a beat. “I’m just saying. I’ve seen prison fights look more pleasant than whatever your body is doing to you right now.”

You groaned and tried to burrow further under the blanket, already regretting texting him that you ‘might be coming down with something.’

And yet he was already setting a grocery bag on the counter, filled with tissues, pills, fancy teas that smelt of ginger and lemon, and what looked suspiciously like a tupperware container of homemade soup.

“Did you make that?” 

Your boyfriend looked offended. “Of course I made it. You think I’m going to let you eat some weak homebrand canned abomination while you’re like this? You make me sick.”

You managed a half-smile, nose still stuffy. “I didn’t know you could cook.”

He raised an eyebrow, tossing a tissue box into your lap with perfect aim before going to the microwave to heat up your chicken noodle. “There’s a lot you don’t know, baby.” He snorted. “Like how much of a sad sight you are right now. Seriously.” 

“Okay, now you’re just bullying me.”

“It’s called banter,” he said smugly, crouching beside you with a bowl of soup and a spoon already in hand. “Now, say ‘ahh.’” Perfect pink eyebrows furrowed. “No, not like that, christ! You’ve got such a dirty mind.”

You giggled.

Between spoonfuls, he tutted and commented on your appearance:

“You look extra pretty with a puffy face.”

“You’re lucky you have me to pamper your sorry ass.” 

“You’ve got something here.” He flicked your chin, before dragging his thumb over your bottom lip. “Cute.” 

He kissed your forehead. 

Despite his constant teasing, Anasui never left your side. He fluffed your pillows, tucked you in under your fluffiest blanket (paying extra attention to your sides and feet) and settled against the bedhead behind you. You dozed off on his lap, your head resting lightly against the fabric of his mini skirt. Pink, silky hair brushed gently against your skin, tickling your cheek as you lay on your side.

One hand absentmindedly rubbed your neck, whilst the other combed through the tresses of your hair. His fingertips massaged your weary scalp, paying extra attention to the spots that made you sigh and hum.

You murmured, half-asleep, “Thanks for babysitting me…”

He scoffed softly, glancing down with a crooked smile. “Someone’s gotta do it. And if I leave it to anyone else, you might die from odd socks and tinned soup.”

Then quieter:

“Besides, I kinda like taking care of you.”

Your eyes blinked open sleepily. “Even when I’m gross?”

“Especially when you’re gross. You’re sweeter when you’re soft.”

“Wow. How romantic.”

“You knew what you were signing up for. Now sleep, princess.” He brushed a stray hair from your forehead and whispered, “I’ve got you.” 

[thus-wrote-mrs-zeppeli]

Can I request some headcanons for la squadra basically being an older brother figure to a new female teammate? Thanks!

That’s cute, I love that. Lemme try!

-La Squadra in: older brother figure to a new female teammate reader

Content: platonic, canon typical violence but it’s pretty vague

Characters: all of La Squadra (-Sorbet and Gelato)

Formaggio: The cool, chill older brother figure to you. He never seems bothered by anything, and he’s more patient with you than with the others. He gets it’s hard to be new! He won’t start giving you a hard time til you’re more settled and comfortable in Passione. And even then the meanest he’ll be is just a bit of playful teasing.

He’ll usually be the one who stands up for you if one of the other assassins or someone else in Passione gives you a hard time for anything, even if you don’t need his intervention.

Sometimes he’ll do this really annoying thing where he steals something from you and holds it above your head so you can’t reach it. And if you get close to getting it back from him he’ll just shrink you a bit so there’s no chance for you.

When it comes to actual assassination advice, he’s not the best, since he’s been in this career for long enough that he doesn’t even think about it anymore. He just sorta. Does it. There’s nothing to think about really. With time you’ll get used to it, but that’s about all he can say.

Usually your newbie status doesn’t affect him much, but after a mission you usually struggle to relax while he wasn’t bothered at all. He can’t remember the last time he felt unnerved over taking a life, and even watching you shake and try to pull yourself together while you wash blood off your hands can’t remind him of his early days as an assassin.

Ah well.

He won’t let it bother him. It’s not like who he used to be matters anymore anyways. And eventually you’ll be like him too.

Soon it’ll be second nature to you. Then you’ll be able to take it easy like he does.

Illuso: He’s kinda like Formaggio in regards to how he’s a bit more calm and easier to talk to than most of his squad mates, but not nearly as approachable as him. So you latching onto him as a big brother figure is a bit surprising to him, but it doesn’t take long for him to really enjoy how you look up to him and seek him out for advice.

You quickly realize Illuso is the type of guy who pretends to know what he’s talking about even when he doesn’t.

Ah well.

He’s a bit annoying, and pesters you sometimes just for the sake of it, but when you’re in a mood where you can deal with him, he can actually be fun to spend time with. He’s also kinda useless when it comes to mission advice. He finds it so easy, especially since he has no qualms with fighting dirty if it meant an easy victory. He thinks you should be like him. Isn’t the whole point of assassination catching your target off-guard?

Trust him, it’s just making the most use of your stand when you use tricks and surprise attacks. La Squadra is supposed to be efficient. And if you listen to him, you’ll become a valued member of the team in no time.

That’s what he genuinely thinks, at least.

Prosciutto and Pesci: As harsh as he is, it’s hard not to look up to Prosciutto and turn to him for advice. He’s mean, definitely beyond “just being honest” BUT you can tell he’s actually well-intentioned with his severe way of speaking to you. He words it cruelly, but his advice keeps you alive. Pesci is more reasonable, with a less black and white worldview like dear Prosciutto. He’ll stand up for you if Prosciutto gets too harsh in his eyes. They both call you “Sorellina”, Prosciutto usually in a slightly condescending way, but still affectionate.

Honestly they’re both kinda softies for you, tending to cover for you when you make a mistake during a mission, and occasionally even taking care of jobs for you. But only because you’re new!! Soon you’re going to have to take care of marks on your own, they can’t always be around to save you.

That’s what Prosciutto says at least.

But Pesci won’t say no when you need help.

Melone: Weird big brother whose mere presence embarrasses you. But he’s nice to you. Weird but nice.

He’s smart, unlike Illuso he actually does seem to have at least surface level knowledge on almost anything you can think to ask about. And if you let him he’ll chat your ear off. Before you know it you’re hearing about something completely different from what you initially asked.

He’s also one to cover for you. Risotto can’t pair you two together anymore because you distract each other, and then slack off because you’re too busy goofing around and going way off track from the initial mission.

Thankfully he’s excellent mission support. You out in the field, and him supporting you from his computer.

Since you’re a little sister to him, he’s going to try and protect you to the best of his abilities. He has no one else to hang out with if something happens to you!

Ghiaccio: Even if he sees you like a little sister, you’re still subject to his unnatural rage. He is constantly pushing you to improve, after just a few weeks under his tutelage, you’ve grasped that you’d rather kill someone than deal with Ghiaccio getting upset with you for screwing up a mission. He’s efficient, powerful…and he doesn’t really slow down for you when you tag along with him on your first real mission.

He shows you how it’s done, not even considering he should ease you into the business of murder a little more gently.

At least he was pretty clear.

You certainly know what you’re Supposed to do when it’s your turn.

Honestly as long as you aren’t making any major mistakes, he’s proud of how quickly you’re becoming skilled at assassination. It doesn’t have to be precise or perfect. As long as the right person ends up dead, and you don’t get yourself injured or in trouble then who cares how you got it done.

If you do screw up an assignment though, whether you get hurt or even fail to kill the target, you will get an EARFUL from Ghiaccio. Multiple earfuls. A lot of it is because he’s just super angry at you for messing up and making more work for him, but he also cares about you. He doesn’t want you to fail…and the only way he knows how to communicate is through anger and screaming, but you’re used to it so it doesn’t even register as unusual that he’s almost always yelling at you.

Risotto Nero: (he gives big brother figure so hard honestly) As the leader of La Squadra, he naturally fills the role as your mentor, and despite initially seeming intimidating, his patience with you quickly helped you grow more comfortable around him. He remains calm even when you make a mistake, his expectations for you are reasonable…he won’t assign you a mission unless he’s certain you can handle it, and on your very first assignment he went with you to supervise. Knowing he was watching (and would step in if you really needed it) was reassuring. You wanted to impress him, make him proud…as hard as it was to take a life for the first time, Risotto’s quiet assurance and justification for the necessity of your job makes it easier.

Risotto doesn’t give out compliments excessively, so you treasure every positive remark he speaks to you. If he said you were doing well, then you were going to keep on doing what he approved of.

Though when you do have doubts about your abilities or the ethics of your job, he’s surprisingly empathetic towards your concerns. He’ll listen to your worries. And subsequently crushes those concerns with his usual stoic disposition. You will be fine. And if you really think you can’t do this, you are welcome to leave La Squadra. He won’t stop you, and he’ll even defend you should your actions be deemed traitorous by the Boss.

But he does value you as a member of the team, so consider it deeply before you decide this is all too much for you. Your family in La Squadra will miss you should you choose to leave.

[lovehotelreservation]

Angel Cake - Miracle [6/???]

Summary: It had been a while since Mista had stepped foot into a church, but he knew an angel when he saw one. He was facing straight into hell, but just one glimpse at you saved him from his fate.

A collection of the day to day life between you and Mista.

Rating: PG-13

Pairing: Reader/Mista

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hello!!! 🙇‍♀️🙇‍♀️

it's been a while hasn't it ; v ; i hope you've been all well!!!

with the recent rumblings of the likely announcement of part 7's anime set to be revealed next year, i found myself returning to some of my jjba work and came across this piece where--after bringing up my document for it--i realized i still had some moments i wanted to express with this piece!!!

to be quite honest with you all, the last time i actively worked on this piece, i was undergoing some pretty personal matters and while i was able to manage through, i couldn't find it in myself to open up my draft for this for a considerable amount of time.

but with the years that have since passed, my fondness for this story, for mista, for jjba is still here all the same and thus, i was compelled to finally weave together the chapter you see here!!!

with this, i wish to offer you my heartfelt thanks for reading this piece and showing it love throughout all this time!!! 🙇‍♀️🙇‍♀️ please enjoy!!!

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Mista had found himself turning to prayer.

Eyes closed, hands clasped, crucifix gripped–he probably prayed here within this nondescript medical clinic in Naples more within the past hour than he ever did at any church while growing up.

He was desperate after all.

As a low and hoarse “amen” rumbled from his lips, his eyelids slowly lifted open before his focus immediately returned to your sleeping form upon the hospital bed. 

Letting out a soft sigh, he reached forward to clasp your hand with both of his, lifting it up to his lips for a few kisses, his crucifix pressed right in-between.

Relieved as he was to see the slow yet steady rise of your chest with each breath, he still felt haunted, cold.

He never wanted to see that sight again–your body bound by rope, blood trickling from your side, the glimmer of hope that was barely shining in your eyes upon seeing him arrive to your rescue.

The fragile “Mista” that you breathed out before you succumbed to exhaustion devastated him beyond comprehension, his entire being immediately feeling so hollow as he rushed to your side in a terrified panic.

It was as though his heart was ripped right out his chest.

But now, with your rescue successful and his vengeance delivered, he was once again by your side, refusing to leave you for even a moment.

The thought of you waking up to no one around was something he refused to even consider.

Why bother returning to your apartment if you were not present? Home was wherever you were, and if that meant this medical clinic, then so be it.

Thankfully however, he didn’t have to actually consider changing addresses anytime soon.

A flicker of movement in your fingers.

His eyes began to widen.

”Mis…ta…?”

His prayers were answered.

At once so agonizingly empty to now brimming with rapturous relief, he felt his jaw become slack as he could feel the warmth of joyous tears begin to line his eyes, his hands squeezing yours.

“Angel!”

It took a few moments, what with the harsh clinic fluorescent lighting from above, yet as your eyelids fluttered open to soon take in his astonished features, a small yet soft smile tugging at the corner of your lips, there simply weren’t enough words in the world to describe how grateful he was for this very moment.

The blessing of God’s mercy.

Were it not for your current fragile state, he would’ve scooped you right into his arms for a barrage of kisses and tight embraces.

But for now, however, it was then that the fatigued relief on your expression turned into precious confusion as your focus shifted away from his face towards the front of your body.

Just as curious, he followed your gaze.

You weakly lifted a hand.

“What are…these?”

Mista grew befuddled all the more while he watched your hand begin to reach towards your stomach.

“Babies...golden babies…” You continued, murmuring deliriously as you haphazardly began to pat along your frontside, seemingly trying to feel out something.

While in any other context, he certainly would’ve been left absolutely stupefied as to what you were talking about–especially since you were just saved from a rotten partnership between that stupid ex-Speedwagon Foundation employee and the rival famiglia he aligned himself with.

Yet Mista was at a loss of words, of breath even as he realized just what exactly you were talking about.

Or rather, of who you were talking about.

Because resting together in a cozy little pile upon your stomach were none other than the six tiny forms of Sex Pistols.

Before your hand was just about to brush upon the head of No.1, it was intercepted by him as he brought it to his mouth for a kiss, followed by another and another.

There were definitely going to be a lot of conversations between the two of you after this.

An arrow in the hands of your kidnappers?

The mere concepts of Stands themselves?

They were matters that your pretty little head shouldn’t be fretting over just yet, especially after everything that had transpired since.

For now, he would just shower you with all the affection, the reverence and the care that you deserved.

While his crucifix found its way to your hand and his lips sought out yours for a kiss–the first of many that he ached to savor–, he smiled and murmured out,

“We’ll talk about it more after I carry you home, angel.”

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tysm for reading we're thotting it up again next chapter tho !!!

[bimbosandbubbles]

Yandere Jotaro Kujo

The slowburn yandere

Starring Jotaro Kujo and chubby reader

Warnings-obsession,yandere,possessive behavior,somno,dacryphilia,stand usage,mentions of nsfw themes but nun too crazy.

Thinking about yandere marine biologist Jotaro who becomes obsessed with his chubby assistant. The assistant who the company forced him to have because although he's amazing at what he does—he's terrible at interacting with others without being standoffish.  So thats why you show up in his office on a irritating Monday morning. Chubby body stuffed in a formal two piece consisting of  a knee length skirt and vest on top of a sickeningly colored dress shirt. You seem to only be 5 or 6 years younger than him.

Jotato immediately finds your presence to be a disturbance to his calculated peace. You haven't even began to introduce yourself before he instructs you not to talk him and to stay out of his way. You shiny lip gloss lips frown at that and your face drops the excitable expression. For weeks you obeyed Jotaro—only doing things he tells you to do,steering clear of him,not disturbing him. And your coworkers notice how you follow him around like some sad kicked puppy who's desperate to make your boss proud of its constant effort. They feel for you and tell you he's not friendly with anyone,only coldly and barely cordial. However you're eager just to get a few words out of him.

But talkative,determined you can't hold it in one day. You have to talk to him cause you just might lose your mind! So,when you're bringing him some photos of dolphins,setting them gently on his wooden desk. You loiter by his desk,waiting for an opportunity to strike—an action Jotaro doesn't mind or notice because he simply doesn't address it. You watch as his sea green eyes illuminate at the pictures and you can tell they make him happy even if there's not a hint of a smile on his face. And then you finally speak,"Are dolphins your favorite animal?" Your voice slightly cracks because of the dry nervousness you feel in your throat. And you already feel like you've missed your chance to amuse him.

You're left waiting there for what seems like forever before he just wordlessly nods. Progress! Is all you can think. At least he's somewhat answering. So with that you pat yourself on the back and gleefully trop away from his office with a,"Okay sir,I'll leave you to it now!" Leaving Jotaro with this thoughts. Thoughts of who you are because he thought he had you all figured out from the very first day. He thought of you as too pushy—too loud,annoying like girls he went to college and high school with. Especially because he saw how shocked you were by his appearance—seemingly entranced with his handsomeness. But when he told you to keep your distance from him— you did. Not only that but you do your work with precise excellence. Today was different though,today you bothered to talk to him. Even despite the fact he didn't give you the most elaborate answer you happily accepted what he gave you. He liked that you never attempted to push him—you respect him. And maybe he should pay that same respect back.

Two whole months pass by after that extremely brief interaction and Jotaro seems to be very slowly warming up to you. Now he allows you to stay in office and catch up on some work and today you were doing exactly that. You were completing some files on the computer and the two of you are a safe distance away from another,due to the fact the man chose to sit a good 10 inches away from you. But despite that he still smells how sweet you smell,like a ripe peach aching to be picked . A peach his mother would make into a wondrous dessert after he won a game of baseball in elementary—a reward for his effort. He can't help but slightly inhale the scent,the pure nostalgia of it setting in. And for one good second he stops and stares at you from the corner of his eye. Your pudgy cheeks are puffed out in frustration,meaty fingers are gently placed on the wooden desk,your eyes are determined yet still hold that gentleness in them,and your lips that are always coated in some shiny substance is slightly open in pure concentration.

Beautiful,so effortlessly beautiful. He unknowingly becomes so entranced an old friend manifests from beside him. Star platinum in all his glory floats towards you and he peers at you with curiosity and affection. He can't seem to help himself so he gently almost ghost like caresses your chubby face—light squeezes and soft pinches being barely felt. Jotaro pulls his white hat down in shame,the shame of not keeping a hold on his emotions. He's not a teenager who can't control his stand anymore. He calls Star back and reluctantly the stand stops touching you. Frazzled, the man says he has important business to take care of and snappily kicks you out of his office. He sighs deeply and looks at his hands that Star— no he felt your skin with. He could feel every pore,every textured mark,the plushness that allowed his stands fingers to barely dig into it. It felt...nice,so nice that he wonders if he let Star touch you further how far he'd go. Jotaro then realizes that he's actually so fond of you.

Ever since he lost control of Star Platinum Jotaro begins to long to be closer to you. Tasks that he could do easily,he now asks for your help,things that require one person suddenly becomes a two person issue. Jotaro talks to you more even if it's very vague or brief,he just wants to hear your chatter. An action he used to find irritating about you but now he loves it. Jotaro's even eaten your cooking and he enjoys that as well,so much so that he has up it there along with his beloved mother's cooking. But he doesn't only get closer to you through interactions—he starts touching you more. When you're getting something he uses his tall frame to reach for it himself—bumping his crotch against your ass. That plump ass that he knows his riddled with cellulite—those cute little dimples he wants to dip his fingers in as he ruts into your plush cheeks.

He loves when he does that,loves when you gasp and look at him with those innocent eyes. He can tell you think of his actions as pure accident,never suspecting your stoic boss to get off on something like that. And because of that he simply gets more and perverted,a part of him becomes disgusted with his seemingly uncontrollable lustful urges. But when he looks at you,the woman who simply likes him despite his reluctance to fully open up,he can't help but be so fond of you. That's why he finds himself nursing his aching cock in the wake of many late nights in his office. He always sends you off early with a cold tone despite the fact that he wants you to stay and touch him instead with those soft hands. Hands that are pure,that have never been exposed to things he's seen and done. Hands that could most likely struggle with wrapping themselves around the girth his cock has. Jotaro concludes you'd look cute like that.

Jotaro will carry on with this behavior for a full year. He carries on asking you to eat lunch with him despite the fact he hardly talks and when he does it's when you ask him a question—even that's hard to get out of him because he'd much rather hear you ramble on and on about something that has you so enthralled. He carries on by touching and letting you touch him as well. He hates unnecessary touch but when you walk up to him to prattle about whatever he shivers when he feels your pudgy hands wrap around his muscled arm. He carries on staring at pictures of you that you post on any platform and there's one particular one that has him in frame with a grouchy expression and you're grinning ear to ear in that photo,looking at him with happiness in your eyes. He wonders if you if can really make you happy? He wonders if he can make you a happy wife? His wondering reaches a end though because at last you and him finally go on a work trip together. And it just so happens to be a trip to a small Caribbean island for the research on a certain fish species.

This work trip is what set off his obsessive urges—unlocking a beast that's been shackled for years of his life. Seeing you in a two piece bathing suit could really do things to a man,after all. He recalls you saying a week prior before the trip on how you're a tad insecure on showing your tummy openly like that,and yet there you were standing there in a star patterned bathing suit; waiting for Jotaro to say anything about the way you look. He doesn't because his mind and body can't handle how good you look. He wants to fuck you like really really fuck you. Wants to see you spoiled and ruined for him. He's fucked before but only for alleviation,however seeing you like that makes him desire you wholeheartedly.

The whole trip Jotaro keeps on saying he wants to go swimming just so he can keep seeing you in your cute little bating suits that he's fighting the urge to rip off. And the whole time you keep on being so sickeningly sweet to him he almost can't take it. He wants to see your kind features twisted in pain and pleasure. He yearns to make you feel like that,yearns to have you bent over on his cock and taking it until he's done with you. He feels so gross for wanting to fuck you roughly but he can't help it. He knows you'd be such a good girl for him because it'd make him happy.

Not only his sexual need for you increases for you though. His obsession does too. The whole time at the trip he sees how people admire you for your outside and inner appearance. It pisses him off because he knows he doesn't only have that side of you. He wants it for himself completely. And he can't understand why. He understands his sexual urges towards you but his emotional ones don't make sense to him. He's never had the urge to be married or have kids or any of that other sappy shit. But with you, he craves that so deeply. He wants to make you a cute housewife with him who still helps him with work at home. He could work from home if he wanted and he plans to once he makes his direct move on you.

Even with normal suburban dreams like a happy wife and happy life Jotaro knows he could never give you a normal marriage because of how he feels about you. He's slowly getting to the point where he wants to be with you all the time just so he can hear you chatter. He wants to be the only person in your life and the only that matters because that's how you are for him. He knows that's wrong though,knows he can't just hide you from everybody. He so badly desires it though.

He's very aware that what he feels is wrong but he doesn't care enough to stop it. And the reason for that is because you make Jotaro so happy. He doesn't show it but trust you sincerely do. In front of you he's always quiet,surprisingly patient,and oddly needy. In his heart when you're away from him too long he feels so deeply bothered;an itch that can't be scratched until it hits a certain sweet spot. He just wants to get be by you all the time,just to soak in the same space as you.

Once the trip is over,Jotaro begins his plan on how he'll solely become your only company. He moves so incredibly slow because as he's gotten older he's grown to understand to be less hasty. There's two reasons for that,one,he wants you to view you the same way and have your too cute personality,two,he wants you to view him the same way he does you.

Low and slow is the way he plays this obsessive love game. He starts off with informing you about how your "friends" at the office insult your chipper attitude,the way you dress,even your beautiful body. This is not a lie or made up tactic for you to run into his arms,it's actually the truth. Before he grew to feel such a way for you,they'd make comments on how you tried to suck up to Jotaro and throw yourself at him. Of course,he told them to shut the fuck up even before he started falling for you. But now that he can't afford to have his precious girl hurt,he decides to pay back those harsh words with a little bit of physical force.

The moment he tells you he almost regrets it. Almost,is the keyword. Your eyes bubble with tears and you immediately grip onto the snug sleeve of his expensive dress shirt. "Oh,Jotaro...why don't they like me? Am I that bad?" He triumphs in the feeling of having you in his arms,going to HIM and only him for sweet comfort that only HE could ever provide you. If it was anyone else he'd complain about you fucking up his shirt with your tears,but no,oh nooo,he loves that he now has pieces of you imbedded in his clothing. You cried in his arms for an hour,not even meaning to,but that hour could've been decades and he wouldn't have mind. Does Jotaro like seeing you cry? Depends,if it's him making you cry on his cock. Any other cause,no.

Even though he doesn't enjoy it because he's not the cause,his dick gets a little hard seeing your sobbing and vulnerable body. He feels bad for his body reacting to you in such sad state,but oh my god,you're just so irrestibale. That night he carefully takes of his dress shirt and brings it to his face,smelling,no,inhaling the salty and wet material that also is slightly mixed with your sweet smelling perfume. He nurses his cock in his hand,bucking up into the o shaped hand,instead of stoking up and down. Why? Because he's imagining taking you just like that.

He envisions you slotted perfectly on his muscular thighs,whining about how good and big his cock feels,how nicely he fills you up. He's gripping onto your creamy skin that he knows will soften like butter in grasp. He imagines feeling all the texture your body as to offer him;the rolls that adorn your tummy and a little bit of your back,the stretch marks on your wide waist that wiggle all the way to your hips,and that cellulite you have on your ass and thighs—God he just wants to perfectly place the pads of his fingers into those dimples as he thrusts up into you. He imagines you at your rawest,a part of your being that no one else will see but him. He wants to swallow you whole and force you down to the deep abyss of his never ending appetite for you.

Phase two of catching you in his snare is,quality time to the point where he gradually is the only person you'll ever see during the week. It starts off with him asking if you'd like to go to the aquarium with him after work. Then he asks for a late lunch with you the following day. Then he always begins to call you,his faithful assistant,to do very mundane tasks he didn't bother to ask for prior. Pick up his laundry,bring his paperwork to his house etc. The paperwork task is the biggest one because that's how he ropes you into staying overly late at HIS house. His house is so calm,modern and almost empty of anything relatively personal. The quiet nature of his home and himself,have you chattering,cuddled into him on the couch,talking about God knows what all the way to nightfall.

Obviously,kindhearted you,feels so bad about intruding on him like this,especially when you both have work tomorrow. He assures you only by saying,"My guest room is right across my room,go ahead and knock out for the night." You protest but you're shut up by Jotaro rolling his eyes and muttering about good grief,why do you have to make things so complicated? That night starts an evening routine for Jotaro now. Almost ever day since he's been able go weasel his way into making you stay over,he's began to divulge into his urges a little more.

Once you're sound asleep in the bed,body covered with usually loose fittings pajamas that almost leave nothing to the man's imagination. Jotaro will summon Star Platinum to touch your unconscious form. He prefers Star touches you because he's a lot of more gentler than the stand user could ever be while seeing you like that. The stand always lifts your shirt up to reveal your braless chest,to palm and pinch the naturally weighed down breasts. The ghost like presence is ever so precise—pinching,pulling the harden buds of your nipples. Jotaro's jaw is slack as he feels whatever Star platinum is feeling. You're so soft—so moldable. God,every time he finds you vulnerable like that it takes everything in him to not fuck you just like that. Have you spread,wide—so wide your thighs almost hang of the sides of the twin sized mattress.

He'd hump you through your cute sleep shorts,the silly ones with fishies riddled all over the cool cotton material. He envisions the tingling friction,drooling at the lewd thought of the fabric pulling so hard on your clothed mound that he could see your fat pussy lips.

Jotaro doesn't do this though,he respects you too much and knows this is wrong. He doesn’t want to do anything to that you don’t want. He wants you organically,normally—despite his abnormal and unhealthy feelings he festers deep in his heart. Even letting Star touch you bothers him because he knows he’s violating you but he tells himself that it will always be the last time. It never is.

Despite his dark urges in the night,the mornings are blissfully domestic. Breakfast in the morning,made by him or you,depending on which one of you wakes up first. The two of you will eat and talk,not really though,you’ll do most of the talking while Jotaro listens intently. The man practically hangs on every single word you say even if it’s random chit chat. Anyone else he’d tell to shut the fuck up or to fuck off—you being different though. It’s like sweet sugar is being poured his ear canal,that’s how much he’s grown to enjoy your voice.

The best part of the morning is you getting ready at his house. You’ve literally had to bring clothes to his from how often he has you staying overnight. Why is this the best part in Jotaro’s opinion? Well,it feels him the happiness of what he craves most with you,domesticity. He wants to marry you,he wants to live with you—he wants to be with you. It’s carnal yet sweet at the same time. He’s never dreamed he’d conform into the sweet marital bliss so many elders talk about,yet he’s here offering to zip up your skirts for you,placing your shoes on your feet with such a gentleness a person would’ve forgotten he’s a fully built 6’5 man,complimenting the simple,meticulous,or bare face look you chose to rock today.

Months of this causes Jotaro to snap though. He can’t take this playing house fantasy anymore. It no longer satisfies his hunger and want for you. It was a snowy day,Christmas was beginning its slowly chilling approach,Jotaro recalls you and him being the only in that day. He doesn’t know why he finally gave in now to his urges but God he’s glad he did. He asked you with his has hat off,his messy black locks tossed to every direction and yet still complimented his undeniably handsome features. He blushed as he did so,a very cute and odd look for him.

“Would you let me—“it’s an awkward pause,but not one that kills the tension,only heightening it instead,”take care of you?” His wording is off and he already knows he could’ve been more direct. But your pretty eyes and soft self were so intimidating he just got flustered. It doesn’t matter though because you seemingly picked up on what he meant.

“Like be your girlfriend?” No,his everything. But he’ll settle for that at this moment. After all this just moved him many steps forward to completing his plan. He’s so happy when you say yes,he wants to pull you in for a kiss but he doesn’t. What he does do is pull you into a warm embrace,muttering a good grief into the office.

He could wait for the other stuff he’s been longing to do,after all he’s waited this long to make you his,what’s waiting a little longer?

REBLOGS ARE GREATLY APPRECIATED THANK YOU!

[thornybubbles]

Fourth Wall (JJBA Yandere Scenario)

Scenario: Recently, you’ve moved on from JoJo’s Bizarre Adventure to a different anime series and fandom. You realize that this was a terrible mistake.

Note: This is based on a prompt I saw on Tumblr ages ago. I just expanded on it a bit. 

Warnings: Typical Yandere behavior, threats, abusive behavior, possible harm towards reader, mental distress, anti-comfort. Remember that you alone are responsible for what you read. 

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Changing fandoms wasn’t that unusual for you. You would find a new anime, fall in love with it, then it became your new hyperfixation. After a while, the process would repeat. This is what happened with you and JoJo’s Bizarre Adventure. It wasn’t that you didn’t like the series anymore, you just moved on to a new anime/manga. Still…it felt different this time. You weren’t sure why, but ever since you moved on to your new favorite series, you had this unexplainable feeling of guilt wash over you every time you watched an episode of your new favorite anime or read the latest chapter of the manga. Stranger still, there was an underlying feeling of dread as well. 

As many times as you’d changed fandoms, you’d never experienced such feelings before. It was uncomfortable and you wished that you could move on to your new obsession without any strings attached. It was ridiculous, really. Why should you feel guilty about a change of taste? You weren’t hurting anything. No one would be affected by it. And yet, you still felt unnecessary shame over changing fandoms. You guessed it had something to do with the lingering attachment you had for certain characters from various parts throughout the series. It almost felt like you were leaving them behind somehow. Another silly notion. They were fictional characters and did not exist outside of the world within JoJo. They had no knowledge of you, much less having knowledge of your “betrayal”. You decided that it was stupid to dwell on it and dived headfirst into your new favorite series. That guilty feeling would surely fade after a while. 

You got the perfect opportunity to binge your new favorite anime one day. It was one of those days when you were fortunate enough to have nothing to do. All of your responsibilities had been dealt with and you had no plans other than to sit on your ass and watch your new favorite show until bedtime. Sure, you could go out with friends, but you really just wanted to chill by yourself for the day. So anime binge party it was. You made a comfy nest of blankets and pillows on the couch and set up your laptop on the coffee table. You got some snacks and a drink, made yourself comfortable on the couch, and pressed play on the screen. You relaxed into the softness of your pillows and blankets and immersed yourself in another world for a few hours. 

About ten episodes in, you had to go to the bathroom very badly. All of that soda you’d drunk was taking its toll on your bladder. You paused the video, untangled yourself from your blankets, and stiffly power-walked to the bathroom. Once you relieved yourself, you washed your hands and went back into the living room. You snuggled back into your blanket burrito and reached over to start the video, but something wasn’t right. On the screen wasn’t the anime you’d been watching. It was the first episode of Phantom Blood. 

What…???

Did you accidently click the wrong thing in your haste to pause the video and rush to the bathroom? 

That had to be it. 

It was the only thing that made sense. 

You clicked off of the JoJo episode and went back to the previous page which took you back to the episode of the new anime you’d been watching. You found the place in the episode that you left off on and pressed play. You settled back in your comfy nest and watched the rest of the episode. You watched for another hour or so. During the opening of one of the episodes, you suddenly found yourself watching the opening for an episode of Battle Tendency. You sat up straight and stared at the screen in shock and confusion. 

“What the fuck?” you muttered under your breath. 

You refreshed the page and the episode started properly. That’s the second time your video was suddenly changed to an episode of JoJo. The first time you assumed that it was because of an accidental click but now you weren’t so sure. You hadn’t been touching anything when it happened the second time. All you were doing was staring at the screen when the switch happened. Why did it keep happening? Some kind of glitch with the streaming service? You didn’t know, but it was a bit annoying. You hoped that wouldn’t be a constant thing while you were trying to watch your show. 

The rest of the day went by without further incident. Eventually, you noticed that it had grown dark and you decided that your day of doing absolutely nothing needed to come to a close. You closed your laptop and reluctantly pried yourself off of the couch. As much as you wanted to just lay there in your blanket nest, you knew that you’d get a much better sleep in your bed. So you hobbled off to your room; your mind on nothing but getting a decent night’s sleep. 

You woke up a few hours later with a dried out mouth and an aching throat. You swallowed a few times, wincing at the sandpapery feeling of your tongue against the inside of your mouth. Well that’s what you get for sleeping with your mouth wide open. You flung the covers off of you grumpily and climbed out of bed. You stumbled into the kitchen, not daring to turn the light on and submit your sleep sensitive eyes to an onslaught of painful luminosity. You made your way over to the counter, grabbed a glass, and staggered over to the sink. As you were filling the glass you suddenly had the feeling that something wasn’t quite right. You assumed that it was your sleep fogged brain at work. After all, part of the reason you woke up was because you were having a disturbing dream. You tried to remember what the dream was about, but you couldn’t piece the memories together to get a full picture. You just remembered being in a place that made you uncomfortable and meeting someone that was familiar to you, but their presence frightened you. You just couldn’t remember the details. It kinda made you want to stay awake for the rest of the night but you decided against that. You knew you’d feel like shit the next day if you didn’t get back to sleep. There was nothing worse than waking up with a splitting headache due to lack of proper rest. You downed the glass of water and put the empty glass in the sink. 

You suddenly became aware of a strange odor in the air. What was that smell? Smoke? God, was something burning?! You took another sniff of the air and recognized the smell as specifically cigarette smoke. Okay, so that meant that your house wasn’t burning down. That was good news, but why would you be smelling cigarette smoke? The only way you would be smelling cigarette smoke is if it were coming from in the same room as you…

You heard the sound of rustling fabric from somewhere behind you. You spun around and immediately spotted the outline of someone sitting at your kitchen table. You could also make out the small glow of a lit cigarette sticking out of their mouth. As your eyes adjusted to the darkness, you could make out some details of the figure. They were large, broad shouldered, and wore a long white coat, and on their head rested an oddly shaped hat. In the miniscule amount of light in the room you could make out the glint of gold accessories on both their hat and coat. 

“No way…” you gasped in a quiet voice. “No way in hell…” 

The figure lit a lighter and held it to the wick of the candle that was located in the middle of the table. Once the candle was lit fully, you could see the figure better. It was as you expected, Jotaro as he appeared in part four was sitting at your kitchen table, glaring at you as if you were less than dogshit. 

“You recognize me?” he scoffed and took another drag from his cigarette. “I’m surprised. I thought you forgot all about me… about us….” 

You backed up against the counter, unable to believe what you were seeing and hearing. 

Jotaro glanced down at the cigarette in his hand. He held it up in front of him. 

“This is your fault, you know.” he sneered. “I quit smoking, but after you abandoned us, I started the habit again. I’ve been tolerant so far because I was stupid enough to think that you’d come back eventually. Maybe you were just taking a break and you’d come back when you were bored… that was my stupidity. I’ll own up to that. But when I realized that you’d thrown us aside like trash, well, I got pissed. I guess I took up smoking again just to stay sane…” 

You were so appalled at the fictional character seated at your table that you hadn’t been paying much attention to what he was saying. Slowly the words began to filter into your mind and of everything he said, one thing stood out the most…

He said “us”. He said that you had abandoned “us”...

That’s when you became aware of the other figures lined up behind Jotaro. 

You could make out their shapes and features in the candlelight. Jonathan stood there looking as utterly brokenhearted as a man could be. Joseph had a smug grin on his face as if he’d just caught you committing a crime. Josuke’s face was contorted in a vicious snarl while his fists were clenched by his sides. Ever so often his left eye would twitch indicating that he may be on the verge of a psychotic break. Giorno offered you a placid smile that was off putting when set against the coldness of his eyes. 

Your eyes darted nervously from one face to another before finally settling back on Jotaro’s. It was too much. You pushed away from the counter and ran out of the kitchen. A voice that probably belonged to Jonathan called out for you to stop but you paid it no attention. Luckily the kitchen was right next to the front door. Once you were outside, you could run to the neighbor’s house and get them to call the police. You wouldn’t dare tell them the truth. What would you even say? You couldn’t tell them that five fictional characters from an anime had invaded your house. They’d think you were on something. You would just tell them that someone had broken into your house. That’s all. Honestly, you didn’t know what the hell the police could do against them, but you didn’t know what else to do. You reached the front door but your hand froze just as you were about to unlock the door and yank it open. 

Two people were staring down at you from the window in the front door, two people you recognized. Kars looked down his nose at you with a haughty expression. He looked ever so much like a strict parent that had just caught his kid trying to sneak out of the house. DIO on the other hand had the most sadistic smile on his face. He made a “come-hither” gesture with his clawed hand as if he fully expected you to just open the door and throw yourself at him. Their eyes glowed with a hellish light and you couldn’t take the sight of them. You screamed and backed away from the door. As you stepped back, you saw two other familiar faces staring at you from the windows on either side of the door. Doppio had one hand pressed against the glass while the other hand held a rock from the garden to his ear as if it were a cell phone. One of his eyes had changed to a jade green color and glared at you with intense rage. His other, normal eye had a pitiful, disappointed look in it. From the other window Kira stared at you with an utterly emotionless expression. You didn’t dare speculate on what kind of thoughts could be going through his head at that moment. You screamed again and started to turn and run towards the back door…

“Star Platinum!” 

Suddenly you were held tight in an iron like hold. An invisible hand covered your mouth preventing you from screaming anymore. It didn’t take a genius to figure out that you were being held in place by Jotaro’s Stand. Struggling in Star Platinum’s grip was useless so you just hung there in midair as Jotaro approached you. 

“We weren’t done talking.” he snapped. 

He leaned in slightly and you got a whiff of cigarette smoke mixed with cologne. 

“Now you listen and you listen good,” he started to say. He held up a single finger.

“One. Just one more chance. That’s all you get. Come back to us and there won’t be a problem. Leave us again and it will get ugly.” he said, glancing up at the villains peering through the windows. His upper lip curled in disgust when he locked eyes with DIO and Kira, but only for a moment before his eyes were back on you. 

“Is that understood?” he asked. 

You nodded your head, whimpering behind Star Platinum’s invisible palm. 

“Good.” 

You don’t know what happened after that. You just woke up in your bed with a pounding headache. 

“Fuck…” you groaned, pressing your hands to your temples. 

You felt awful. You could only guess that you just simply didn’t sleep very well. Damn nightmares. What was with that dream? Was it all because you felt guilty about leaving the JoJo fandom? You grumbled and rolled out of bed. You were going to need to take something for that headache. First you needed to get a glass of water. You stumbled off to the kitchen getting an uncomfortable feeling of deja vu. The moment you entered the kitchen, your eyes glanced to the kitchen table and you nearly fainted. 

The candle was out, but it was smoking as if it had only been put out mere moments ago. The cigarette butt that rested on the saucer that had been used as a makeshift ashtray was also still smoking. 

That night you made it a point to sit down and watch a few episodes of JoJo’s Bizarre Adventure starting with Phantom Blood. You planned to rewatch the entire series from the very beginning all the way to Stone Ocean. With each episode you watched, you noticed that ever so often a character’s eyes would slide over towards you as if making sure you were still there, watching them. Sometimes it would be one of the main characters. Sometimes it would be one of the villains. Sometimes it would be a side character. Regardless, they all kept checking to see if you were watching. Every day, you would make it a point to watch at least one episode of JoJo, no matter what. You didn’t dare skip out on your daily dose of JoJo. You also never went back to the other anime you’d been watching after you left the JoJo fandom. No, you learned your lesson. You were familiar enough with Jotaro’s character to know that he only gave people one chance and no more. Just like with Rubber Soul and Steely Dan. He gave them both a chance to leave mostly unscathed but they both decided to turn on him at the last minute. They both were punished severely. You weren’t going to make that same mistake. 

So you sat there on the couch, stiff and terrified as you watched your “favorite” anime… 

… like a good little fan should…

[babypinkbruno]

what to do when the movie is boring - bruno smut <3

pairing: Bruno Bucciarati x Yn (it's girl coded, im sorry T_T)

summary: cutie Bruno gets head. that is all.

warnings: none unless you don't mind smut?? do not interact if you're a minor pls. seriously, just don't, it's not for you littlies.

word count: 1.2k

i need him so bad, omg. this is so silly idk why i'm nervous posting smut to tumblr lol. not edited but i might revisit it idk, let me know what you think!

‘You wanna get snacks?’ Yn asks, turning to Bruno. ‘What are you looking at me like that for?’ Bruno blinks, coming of a daze. A delicate smile tugs at the corners of his mouth. ‘What? Sorry, I was, uh…’

‘Daydreaming?’ Yn says, tilting her head to the side. ‘What about?’ Bruno flicks her chin gently. ‘Just you. You look beautiful tonight.’ Pink blossoms over Yn’s cheeks. ‘Hush. You’re teasing me. Snacks?’ Bruno grins, a silly, goofy sight that is rare for him. ‘Sure. You pick.’ It is cool and dark in the theatre, the delicious smell of popcorn and various other snacks floating in the air as the two of them take their seat at the back. ‘Doesn’t look like many people are here.’ Yn peers into the rows below them. ‘No, it looks pretty empty. There’s only a couple of people other than us.’ ‘I hope that it’s not a reflection of the movie,’ Bruno says, scrunching his nose as he thinks. ‘Well, if it does,’ Yn says, getting comfortable in the seat, ‘we can just make out.’ Bruno looks at her sharply, and then softens. ‘Well… I suppose it wouldn’t hurt. If no one saw us.’ Yn’s eyes flash mischieviously. ‘Not one for voyeurism?’ Bruno’s face flushes a lovely pink in the soft theatre glow. ‘What–’

‘Okay, shush,’ Yn says suddenly, placing a quick kiss to Bruno’s cheek, his skin warm under her lips. ‘The movie’s starting.’

Indeed the movie was boring. Thirty minutes in and Yn yawns, resting her head on Bruno’s shoulder. He absently strokes her bare thigh, the fabric of her dress rising ever so slightly without him realising until she looks up at him and presses a kiss to his neck. ‘What are you doing, darling?’ He whispers with a shiver. ‘Nothing, just–’ she kisses down his neck, pulling his collar away, ‘giving you little lovings.’ ‘Is that so?’ ‘Your hand is in dangerous territory, you know,’ Yn murmurs against his neck. She sucks on the soft skin, warm and sweet. Bruno’s breath hitches in his throat. He squeezes her thigh in his hand, smoothing the soft flesh in his palm. ‘Is it?’ ‘You hadn’t noticed?’ Yn leans over the armrest to press a kiss to his collarbone. ‘Hmmm…’

Yn decides to be bold. She strokes his chest, his tummy, and tugs on his belt, smiling when Bruno looks at her with a soft gasp.

‘May I?’

‘May you what?’ Bruno asks softly, eyes widening. ‘You seem to be straining against your belt…’ Yn purrs. ‘It must be awfully uncomfortable… Why don’t I fix it for you?’

Bruno manages to roll his eyes playfully, a soft smile gracing his lovely mouth. ‘What do you think you’re doing, sweet girl?’

Yn grins, unbuckling his belt and pressing her mouth to his. The kiss is soft for a moment before Bruno moves his hand to her neck, pulling her closer to him. He slips his tongue in between her lips, tasting her. A soft moan escapes his throat as Yn slips her hand down the front of his trousers, finding him warm and hardened already. She strokes slowly, the heat between them growing as their breaths become heavier.

Yn pulls away slightly, meeting his half-lidded gaze. ‘I want to taste you.’

Bruno blinks, distracted. ‘W-what? Here? Now?’

Yn nods, pressing soft kisses along his jaw.

‘You…’ Bruno whispers, stroking her check. His breath is hot on her lips, sweet like lemonade. ‘You really aren’t bothered if we get caught?’

‘Let them watch.’

‘Jesus,’ Bruno hisses, as she squeezes the tip of his cock gently.

‘Is that a yes?’ Yn murmurs, kissing the corner of his mouth.

Bruno nods, and hopes that it is dark enough in the theatre to get away with this.

Yn grins, slipping off the seat and onto the floor in front of him. She gently pushes his knees apart, stroking the insides of his thighs. Excitement is a lovely quickening heartbeat in her ears, and she swallows, her mouth already watering. She pulls his trousers down a little more, freeing his cock from their constraints.

Yn spits on her hands and strokes slowly, looking up at him, though only just making out the contours of his face in the movie screen’s light. He truly is beautiful, she thinks, the way his nose scrunches when he is deep in thought, the furrowing in his eyebrows, and the way his lovely ocean eyes lose focus when he is pleasured by her. She presses a kiss to his tip, rubbing her lips against the swollen head, and smiles as a tiny gasp escapes his lips.

Then she presses down, swirling her tongue around him and licking a delicious stripe slowly from base to ti. Warm and wet. She takes him into her mouth, resisting a giggle at the way he stifles a groan when he hits the back of her throat.

Yn looks up at him through her lashes and he meets her gaze. She holds it as she sucks gently, pulling away and taking him again, and again. She plays with his balls, the smooth skin tightening under her soft stroking and squeezing.

‘Oh, god,’ Bruno murmurs, biting his lip. He grips the back of her head, tangling his fingers in her hair. ‘Just like that, sweet girl.’

Yn tries not to smile, her rhythm picking up pace as he grips her hair, tight and urgent. She squirms, rubbing her thighs together – the inside of her panties are an absolute mess already.

Bruno pants softly, sweat beading on his skin, his hair sticking to his forehead. He glances around, checking if anyone has heard them yet but as far as he is aware in his very dazed state, every lonely individual in the theatre is focused on the movie. ‘Yn…’

‘Hmm?’ Yn pauses, looking up at him, her eyes wide and innocent.

Bruno shakes his head. ‘Keep going, keep… going,’ he pants, bucking his hips up, pushing into her warm mouth with a moan. He grips the armrests, imagining the sounds she might make if he bent her over the chair and fucked her right then and there, sinking his cock into her sweet pussy instead of her mouth. He licks his lips, hungry for her as he looks down, watching himself disappear, her pretty pink lips wrapped around his length.

‘Fuck, you’re so pretty,’ Bruno pants. ‘That’s my girl… My good girl…’

Yn whimpers as she sucks him a little harder, tears forming at the corners of her eyes, willing herself not to gag but doing it anyway as Bruno fucks her mouth.

‘I–I’m close…’ He murmurs, gripping her hair. Yn’s too full of him to respond, sucking him with a fervent focus, willing him to give her all of him. Tears roll down her cheeks as she gags again, his cock twitching as it hits the back of her throat with force.

A moment later, a strangled moan stifled by his arm as he spills himself into her mouth, hot and sticky.

Yn swallows, sucking him slowly as he rides out the pleasure, and then pulls back with a small ‘pop’ of her lips. She wipes her mouth with the back of her hand, meeting Bruno’s eyes.

He peers at her from underneath his arm thrown over his face, catching his breath, and gives her a smile. ‘C’mere, you gorgeous girl.’

Yn grins, reaching up to kiss him. ‘How was that?’ She murmurs against his mouth.

‘It’s worthy of everything I’m going to do to you when we get home…’ Bruno replies, nibbling at her lip. ‘Let’s go.’

[jazzmasternot]

I love this character so much, I wanna get him pregnant….

[gatitties]

Hungry

─Bucciarati gang x reader

─Summary: Your stand allows you to eat anything without being affected, from bugs to cement, it's all on the menu!

─Warnings: none

I don't understand why I start writing when I have the least time, anyway- 🙂

─ The first time they saw you eating something random they thought they were hallucinating, except for Bruno, he already knew about your stand, even so you always surprise him when he sees you eating whatever you find when you're hungry, which happens quite often.

─ Fugo scolds you because he thinks that one day you'll get sick, even if nothing happens to you when you eat a piece of cloth, you can choke or feel sick from uncontrolled eating, he makes you a list of all the things you've tried and have made you feel terribly sick.

─ Leone is the one who takes care of that if that happens, a little irritated that he has to do the Heimlich maneuver more times than he'd like to admit because the porcelain you swallowed was too sharp.

─ Narancia always gives you new options to try, like if you haven't eaten a random object and he just comes with a caterpillar for you to try, he's just curious to find out how some things taste, you can't help him much since your sense of taste has been deteriorating.

─ Mista will use you as a trashcan, did he make a mess and there's a lot of debris in the house? That day you have a feast, you remind him of his own stand, you always seem hungry, he's the least upset seeing you eat everything except food, he usually challenges you to eat anything he finds on the street.

─ Giorno doesn't know how to react at first, he won't encourage you to eat strange things, but he won't avoid it either, a little curious about the taste of some things too, he usually carries some pills for stomach ache on him in case something makes you sick.

─ Trish is so disgusted when she sees you nibbling on the plastic ice cream tub as well as the wooden spoon, she prefers not to watch you when you're eating, she avoids sitting next to you, she at least appreciates that you have manners and chew with your mouth closed.

─ Of course, this doesn't mean that you eat junk literally all the time, even though your taste buds are destroyed, you appreciate good food as if it were your last meal before you die.

[keenzinemugstudent]

Kakyoin: Jotaro you and Y/n really are close

Jotaro: We're dating...

Avdol, Polnareff, Joseph, Kakyoin: *Shocked*

Y/n: *Shocked*

Polnareff: Why the hell are you shocked?!

Y/n: Oh right sorry I kind of forgot for a minute there

Joseph: How?!!?

Jotaro: Yare Yare Daze

[cinnbar-bun]

Monster (JoFoes x Reader)

Characters: Dio Brando (PB), Kars, DIO (SDC), Yoshikage Kira, Diavolo, Enrico Pucci, and Funny Valentine (sorry I have not finished JJL yet so no [spoiler])

Prompt: "He's a wolf in disguise / But I can't stop staring in those evil eyes."

Summary: Their "love" for you comes in many different, untraditional ways. Some more dangerous than the others.

Rating: Mixture of SFW + NSFW, but please mind the warnings.

Notes: Reader is GN! and no specific body parts are mentioned for them. Spoilers I guess for their plans? Reader is a human in all of them, Reader replaces Shinobu + Hayato's roles, not much NSFW for Pucci's part in all honesty, FV is a widower (no Scarlet involved).

Warnings: Toxic relationships, MAJOR power imbalances for all of them (maybe minus Kira's). Heavy religion mentions for Pucci (although Reader is not specified to be Christian). This isn't soft or lovey-dovey (but I can do one later), so pleaseeeeee do not read if those kinds of topics make you uncomfortable.

Word Count: ~4.5k (kill me I lost my mind writing this)

Read on my AO3 here!

Taglist (if you'd like to be added, fill out the form in my pinned): @adeadcreator @bruabbina @gingernut1314 @over--heaven

Dio Brando (Phantom Blood) 

He most likely was pursuing you long before the mask ever took hold of him. He didn’t do it out of pure love- more likely it was for entertainment and as a chance to hold another thing over Jonathan. 

Dio despises how Jonathan attempts to be friendly with you and often will do what it takes to turn you against the poor guy. 

He doesn’t even know why he is so adamant Jonathan stays away from you, even more so than with anyone else. He feels a possessiveness towards you that cannot be contained or described in words. 

He masks most of his disturbing thoughts and possessiveness for you underneath a facade of charming elegance. He’ll play the part of a picture perfect boyfriend for as long as he needs to. 

But even he has to admit he has trouble holding back all these disgusting feelings for you. You frustrate him in a way few ever have and ever will. 

Despite his haughty attitude over Jonathan and his eagerness to get ahead, Dio is actually grossed out by himself tremendously with you. He recognizes after getting wasted once again that he is just like his bastard of a father, Dario, and it settles in a gross pit in the bottom of his stomach. 

It’s wretched, honestly. While he continuously acts bigger and better than ever to get you to fall further for him, he refuses intimacy or overtly physical gestures. Sharing Dario’s blood with this body makes him sickened at attempting to do anything like that with you. 

Compared to his earlier brazen behavior, when he begins to get possessive and attached to you, he almost retreats and refuses to allow himself the chance at intimacy with you. 

However… once he puts on the mask and rejects his humanity, Dio becomes a whole new wicked beast. 

While he still has sentimental feelings for you, his aggressiveness grows almost tenfold. 

Likes to have you sit on his lap while he strokes your head and monologues about his ideals or shows you horrifying imagery. 

Blood. Lots of blood. 

You’re the only one he attempts to keep alive and refuses to let the others feed off of. If you are to ever be used as sustenance, it is by him and him alone. He gets actively violent against his subordinates if they even think of touching you.

In this stage, he’s more open to intimacy. A bit more, but not at his full peak (we’ll get to that later). 

However, the arousal he has is mostly fueled by his bloodlust and hunger. Feedings of you tend to occur after one of his many minions causes some chaos or he gets word of more destruction and feels a possessive streak. 

He is pretty sensual, taking his time to showcase how much stronger he is, how much better he is now that he has become an undead horror of the night. But that sensuality is still layered with a hint of hunger and obsessiveness towards you that he cannot contain. 

He’s less controlled about his feelings now towards you. His eccentricities make him more likely to just take you randomly at anytime without a care of what is going on around him. And he will verbally tell you them aloud now, enabled by his own inhumanity. 

“I can smell your fear, darling. Your heart is pounding fast… tell me, do you desire something more than this innocent petting, dear?” 

Loves to bite you and leave marks on you. He likes to have his fangs scratch against your skin before he sucks on that spot. His favorite places include your neck but also in more hidden places like your inner thighs. 

Your blood is the most delicious thing he’s ever tasted. He’s addicted to the taste and savors it more than a fine wine. He has to remind himself to take it easy because as much as he loves your taste, you’re still mortal and he has to keep you alive. 

Kars 

As a Pillar Man, he does not think highly of humans like you. You are a mere mortal, and where you belong is below him. Hardly even worth a glance at all. 

But for some reason, despite your status, he found himself protecting you from an encounter with someone trying to rob you late at night. He doesn’t even know why he jumped in to do so, but the look of reverence and awe in your eyes at his display of strength made him… intrigued. 

He doesn’t hold back. He tells you everything, because, really, what are you going to do about it? You couldn’t escape even if you tried. 

And now, you live your life as his human… pet? Partner? Servant? Thing…? 

He’s very unclear about it. Some days he ignores you, and other days he mulls over his thoughts to you while he strokes your head. 

Kars rarely ever gets aroused. He’s not a primitive beast and he’s very focused on his goals. 

But, intellectually, he is curious about how you behave around him. He kind of likes the attention you give him and he recognizes how you’re affected by him physically. 

One thing he’s super proud of? His voice. He knows how his voice can turn you on and drive you mad. He likes to get close to your and have his breath tickle your skin before he whispers words of praise for you doing so well for him. 

“Oh, little one, you’re shivering. Are you afraid? Or are you excited?” 

His favorite thing is to get you incredibly aroused while barely touching you. 

Enjoys you riding his thigh- you look like a wanton little beast who can barely contain themself from him. 

Kars likes you vocal, so that means you better be moaning, groaning, gasping, sobbing, and thanking him loudly. He doesn’t care who hears. If you try to hold your voice back he gets rougher to have you be louder. 

Most of your intimate encounters will be him getting you off in order to humiliate yourself/hear you praise him. But in the few times he does find himself craving your body, be prepared. 

He is huge. That doesn’t need to be stated but he’s big. Muscular. Strong. Tall. And he’s got full control of nearly every fiber of his body. As the perfect being, he knows he’s well-endowed and uses it to his advantage. 

Some days he’s merciful and likes to take his time and prepare you. He’ll coo to you as if you are a mindless little animal (you probably will be after how well he stimulates you) and praise you for taking him so well.

“How precious. Control your breaths, pet. You can’t be this exhausted when we’ve barely begun yet. Now… relax yourself.” 

Other days, he’s merciless and will use you without abandon. His cruelty and dominating nature comes out full force. 

“Hmph, is this how you treat your new god? Beg better, or I’ll stop. You should be grateful I even deign to touch your mortal body.” 

Although he insists he is not affected by your presence or that you are but a toy for him to entertain himself with, if someone were to threaten to harm or take you back (ie. Joseph/Caesar), he will step in and put an end to that foolish thought. 

“It is unwise of you to think that you will take what is mine away from me.” 

DIO (Stardust Crusaders)

A Dio fully in touch with his desires with little remorse or care. This new body of his makes him more confident and lecherous. 

The many ‘victims’ that take up his bedchambers are usually fodder he disposes of quickly. And the ones that are ‘lucky’ enough to escape are very few. 

You happen to be fortunately (or unfortunately) be his favorite. And being Dio’s favorite means many things. 

You get special privileges almost no one else receives. Only you are allowed to caress and touch him so brazenly and easily, and only you can get somewhat mouthy with him. 

He spoils you with fancier foods and drinks to fill you to your heart’s content. While others can argue over scraps, he gives you the opportunity to sit on his lap and feed him. And if he’s feeling nice, he’ll feed you too. 

You also are practically immune to anything, so long as you keep remaining his favorite. If a minion tries something with you? Dead. Someone from the ‘harem’ insults you? Dead. Hell, a bird made too loud of a noise? Dead. He finds it hilarious to inflict damage due to his whims and somewhat twisted obsession with you. 

“Hoh? Does it please you, knowing your lord is willing to go to such lengths to keep you safe? Now, what will you do to showcase how pleased you are?” 

Most people catch on very quickly to stay away from you, lest they face an untimely death. 

But it does mean he expects you to serve his every whim quickly. He’s so demanding with you, annoyingly so, actually, and he does it to mess with you. You’re his favorite but he will still be a joker with you. 

He feeds on you often, but is in enough control to reign himself from taking all your blood. Sometimes he “jokes” that he just wants to drain you dry, but it’s up in the air. 

Dio is pretty selfish in bed. Often he lays back and expects you to ride him, like a good pet should do for their lord. Go on, earn your keep. 

He enjoys clawing at your skin and caressing the scratches he leaves on you later on. 

Is not ashamed of making a public spectacle of you if he feels like it. Get used to him continuing to pound into you while Hol Horse attempts to give him a report update. 

He takes his frustration and anger out on you physically. When he gets news that the Crusaders have foiled another batch of minions, he might go get his violent (and bloody) fill with a few random mortals, then return to you and sternly tell you to get on your knees. The stone cold expression on his face makes the room drop a few degrees and he will not talk much in these sessions. 

Dio likes putting you in difficult situations for the thrill of it. Your reactions are always interesting, solidifying his interest in you. 

He does admit that he’d probably never put you first above his plans (which he seldom talks about except when you two are relaxing after an intense night) and sardonically chuckles that he may enjoy you now, but it can all change if you stop being ‘fun’ for him. 

But when Hol Horse attempts to grab you to threaten Dio, Dio’s face hardens in a way no one has ever seen before, and Hol Horse immediately aborts the plan. You’ve never seen Dio look that terrifying before. 

He doesn’t speak of that event again, instead telling you to return to the room and stay there. 

Expect him to keep him closer and have a tighter grip around you. 

Yoshikage Kira 

Hiding in plain sight has never been so easy for Kira after having his face switched with the poor sucker at Cinderella salon. 

He could lie a bit longer, play pretend as a dutiful husband as this random man whose appearance he has taken. 

He returns home to see you, the partner of the man he just took over, and he knows he’s in for trouble. He’s going to have to not only fend off suspicion from everyone else in town, but especially within his own home. He no longer has a safe space and it frustrates him. 

He has never been in a formal romantic relationship, but he attempts to act ‘normal’, keeping some distance but still ‘polite’. 

You don’t seem to suspect much- or maybe you’re just so happy to see some changes in your former husband- and always like to chat with Kira. At first he finds it dull and grating, despising how you talk about nothing useful. 

But he can’t be too bland, so he’ll respond back. Usually one word responses and the like just to satiate you enough to get him off his back. 

However, you’ll occasionally discuss a topic he is more interested in and then he’ll give you more of his personal opinion on the subject. Kira didn’t expect to find some comfort with having another person to share these discussions with. 

And while he hated the fact his normal schedule before acting as your husband changed, he slowly starts to grow fond of his new routine with you. Waking up and receiving a goodbye kiss before he goes off to work has become his new morning energizer. Coming home to see the table set with you waiting for him makes the nights a bit more pleasant. 

He’ll never really recognize if he enjoys this for real or if he’s doing this to keep up the act of a ‘good husband’. He’ll just let the days continue to go on like this while he loses the others off his back. 

Although, one thing that really took him off guard was your heavy affection and sexual desires for him. You have nice hands, he’ll give you that, but he was so taken aback by your behavior. Apparently, throughout the whole night when you dressed up extra nice for him and made him his favorite meal and were complimenting him and swooning over him- that supposedly meant you wanted to take him to the room for some bed breaking action. 

He honestly was so shocked that this was what your behavior meant and he had take a moment to recollect himself. Kira declined that first night because he truly has never had sex with another person, less so someone he was pretending to be married to. He was not mentally prepared for that to be thrown at him.

After calming himself down in a few days, he does attempt to be more physically intimate with you. 

Yeah he’s mostly focused on your hands at first. He still doesn’t recognize if he actually loves you yet, but he won’t decline you giving him a handjob or stroking your hands over his toned body. And he’s always ready to be licking your hands. 

After a few more times of these rather awkward and selfish sessions, he does pay it back and begins to explore your body more. He finds himself fascinated with how your chest rises and falls with every shaky breath and moan you let out. He likes the way your eyes roll into the back of your head. 

His compulsive tendencies do appear in the bedroom, and he does let them out, but they honestly come off as roleplay. It’s kinda hot to hear your normally calm husband just huff and lecture you while he bends your body around roughly to ‘set you straight’.  

“Enough of that. Seriously, can you not even put yourself together correctly? If you can’t dress properly, then don’t bother wearing anything at all.” 

He’s way too deep into this marriage life with you, getting extra frustrated if anyone dares to disturb whatever you two have going on. 

Diavolo 

He falls in lust first. He hasn’t learned his lesson from the last time. Diavolo is a heavy believer in the concept of ‘Fate’, but he believes he is the ‘King’ who can overcome it. 

Surely… ‘fate’ wanted you to be his subordinate. 

You do a wonderful job, you never ask any questions that are unnecessary, and you never stray too far from what he’s asked. You always manage to get the job done in your own, unique way. 

You’re his most trusted subordinate (underneath Doppio), and Diavolo can’t help but feel that selfish urge to contain you as a part of him forever. You’re attractive, so cunning, and so loyal to him- something that makes him believe you were meant to be ‘his’. 

He’s run from his past for so long, but that makes him cocky. If you were to somehow lose his interest, he surely would overcome this ‘challenge’ and defy your fate, too. You’ll never know what hit you. Not to mention, he completely believes he’ll be able to keep you in check and under his thumb. He’s learned that much from his time.

So he lets himself be known to you, after all, good servants deserve some ‘rewards’ from their king, do they not? 

He is a cruel man in bed, doing almost everything in his power to exert his control over you and dominate you. 

Bondage, toys, threats, punishments, and even using King Crimson are not too out of line for this sadist. 

He enjoys overstimulating you, loving the way you babble nonsense and tell him it’s ‘too much’. 

The louder and messier it is, the better. Anything to show you who is the one in control and in charge, and where your proper place as his most devoted servant is. 

He insists on a BDSM lifestyle outside of the bedroom too. Diavolo is not short on funds, so he’ll gift you an expensive accessory (probably with built in tracking on it) as a ‘reminder’ of who you belong to. 

But knowing Diavolo, it’s a veiled threat. Fail to comply with his demands, fail to be entertaining to him, or worst of all, fail to keep his trust- you’ll be dealt with swiftly. Choose wisely when he ‘graciously’ lets you roam free. 

He’s pretty giving otherwise. His constant jumping from villa to villa or hotel makes him take you with him and allow you some luxuries in those areas. You will always have a private suite away from the rabble and be able to relax. 

Diavolo finds it sweet that you’ll trace the paisley tattoos/markings on his arm (sorry I like tattoos so uh-). He’ll let you do it for a bit, all while smirking down at you in amusement. 

“Enjoying yourself, tesoro mio?” 

Gets incredibly angry at the thought of someone touching you or finding you. Not purely out of love- but as a desire to keep you to him. If someone figured out your relationship with him, he’d have to swiftly deal with them and possibly you to keep himself hidden. 

He does trust Doppio to escort you and take care of you, allowing him to be perhaps the only other person to see you physically and take you around wherever Diavolo needs you to be taken. 

Surprisingly, Diavolo likes to listen to the opera and will play some records for you both to listen to while you both unwind or he is working on mundane things for Passione. 

Enrico Pucci 

A master manipulator who believes everything he’s doing is for your own good. He meets in the prison- you’re down on your luck, but you’re earnest and seeking redemption. How could he not want to give you the peace you’ve been searching for? 

As the chaplain of Green Dolphin, he does get more access to you than others get, as well as allowing you the chance to take a break from your prison activities to talk or assist him. 

He believes the chance meeting with you, you who was so pitiful in the chapel and begging for anything to comfort you in your hard time, was another mechanization of “gravity”. 

It was simply fate to meet you, and it was fated that he had to be the one to save you. Perhaps this was a second chance at something he needed to do to be redeemed. Perhaps this was him seeing a kindred spirit within you.

Pucci takes it upon himself to offer you counsel or give you a moment of reprise. Once you two get closer, he begins to encourage more discussion and debate from you. 

“Humans are powerless to oppose fate. Wouldn’t you agree on that?” 

But Pucci is obviously not the completely helpful priest he acts as, as his more sinister and rough behaviors come out the more he is ‘pulled’ to you. 

Pucci does continue to use Whitesnake as a mouthpiece, often to voice more ‘warnings’ to you so you do not get scared of Pucci directly. Obviously Whitesnake is just a separate being from Pucci, and you have nothing to worry about, because you obviously were not planning on doing anything to jeopardize Pucci’s goals or ideals, right? 

He uses his authority and standing in Green Dolphin to get his way. Whether it is ridding of annoying prisoners or guards who bother you, or having you isolated as ‘punishment’ for perhaps doing something he didn’t like, Pucci will pull as many strings as he must. 

Only he has your best interests in mind, and only he is the one who can give you salvation and the hope you long for. He is your ‘fate’ so long as you comply. 

He has to admit, he is curious to get your Memory DISC to see all your memories. But he recognizes that would possibly be a step too far (he has some boundaries, he thinks) and attempts to get you to admit your memories on your own. 

Incredibly attentive and will recall anything you’ve told him with 100% accuracy. It can be comforting and nice when you want to vent or talk to him. Do not think you can lie your way around him, though. Whether you’ve intentionally lied to him or not, he will promptly correct you and tell you to be truthful. 

Pucci believes the Heaven Plan will save you and make you more willing to accept your fate. He confesses to you that what he’s doing will make you happier, will make you more free, and will make your tears dry up. 

Although he says that, sometimes, when he looks at you, he does get those same feelings from before he met Dio. Those dreams of running away, running far away and committing blasphemous acts with you, much like those of the novels he’s read. He brushes them aside and counts prime numbers to rid himself of those ideas. He’s so close to his goal. 

“Enough, Pucci. Enough. You’ve committed to this. You’re doing this for the good of humanity. Even if it’s hard, they’ll understand. They’ll come to learn to love their new life and accept their fate with a smile.” 

Funny Valentine 

Funny prioritizes public appearance and his goals over his private life. Despite Scarlet being gone from the picture, he isn’t all that distraught. But being a ‘widower’ does give him some sympathy from the public that he uses to leverage good PR. 

And you are such a helpful assistant to him. You always have everything under control, every plan together, and whatever he may need quickly finished and given to him without him having to utter a word. 

That competence is quite attractive to him, more so than your physical features (which he does enjoy and did catch his eye before). 

He thinks to himself as a joke that he’d just adore having multiple copies of you running around the White House (and in the room) thanks to D4C, but he knows how dangerous it would be to play with your life like that. You’re so useful to him now, so he’ll care for you. 

Funny pulls lots of all-nighters, especially during the Steel Ball Run, and that means, likewise, you are too, as his devout assistant. This does mean he’s more tired, but also more personable than his stern public face. 

Sometimes he rambles about anecdotes from his time in the army or working as a senator. Sometimes he’ll tell a bad joke that makes you laugh from the fact that the strong president would say such a strange thing out of nowhere. But sometimes, he’ll admit how lonely it is, being the most powerful man in America. Especially without anyone beside him. 

He takes advantage of the sob story he has to get you to be more vulnerable with him. And when you comfort him and offer him some help, he is quite happy internally that you did exactly what he hoped you’d do, but outwardly acts humble. 

“How kind of you, dear. You needn’t worry about my nonsense, though. You aren’t on my payroll to be my personal therapist. I already stress you enough, as is.” 

But you insist and who is he to deny you? 

It doesn’t take long after that for your relationship to go beyond professional boundaries. A touch here, a longing gaze there- and Funny has to admit he enjoys the thrill of having a secret affair going on with his assistant right under the nose of the rest of the workers there. 

And, scandalously, Funny is a freak. A really freaky guy. 

Don’t get fooled by his professional nature and good posture that he displays for the newspapers. Funny is perhaps the most experimental and freaky man on the list, willing to try almost anything at least once (and it does give a good excuse to take you to his chambers). 

He indulges in plenty of kinks; bondage, domination (whether you or him), roleplay, exhibitionism- it doesn’t matter. 

But he will try to reign himself in because he is the president, even if he’d love nothing more than to have you on his desk and weeping for him. His biggest kink is roleplay, and in private, he will want to be addressed differently. This must go on at all times behind closed doors. Failure to adhere to his rules or attempting to embarrass him publicly will result in punishment. 

“You little brat! Have I not been clear on what you were to do? Or were you hoping I would take matters into my own hands? Hm, since you seem to enjoy acting so improper, perhaps I shall reteach you manners. Lay down, now. I hope you’re prepared for what’s coming.” 

Funny can look calm during any arguments he has with you, thus making him a tough man to debate. He is authoritative and believes he knows what’s best. While some backtalk is fine for the most part, after a while he puts his foot down and tells you to stop. 

But then you two see each other after you’ve calmed down, and he holds you while apologizing. He’ll insist he loves you very, very much, but he’s just under so much stress and while you may have your heart in the right place, there are some things that just can’t go as you like. 

Possessive when it comes to you, keeping you monitored by guards and by his side almost 24/7. You weren’t planning on betraying the country you love so much, were you, dear?

[thestressedskittles]

Lil Team Bucci Blurb (NSFW)

Kit here! Sorry I've been gone for months on end! A lot has happened since I last posted and I've finally found the encouragement to whip up this little thing real quick. Its not much but I gotta do something to get back into the flow of writing again!

Warnings: NSFW under the cut (MINORS DO NOT INTERACT), gender neutral reader (no pronouns used), all characters are 18+, not proofread nor checked for mistakes

DISCLAIMER: Do NOT think it is okay to take our stories and post them somewhere else without our EXPLICIT PERMISSION. Do NOT think it is okay to take anyone else’s stories and post them somewhere else without their EXPLICIT PERMISSION. Giving credit does NOT count as permission. You may reblog our stories, but you may NOT repost our stories without OUR PERMISSION.

Bruno who lets out rumbling purrs of your name as he makes sure to work himself inside of you slowly and deeply, his normally bright blues are clouded and darkened as his entire being is fueled by arousal as he folds you into a mating press and sinks himself all the way

Leone who offers nothing but groans and rumbles against your neck as his arms wrapped around your waist tighten and pull you to meet his thrusts, forcing his cock in all the way, little nips to your sweet spot and his hot breath pull mini whimpers as your walls squeeze him tighter and tighter

Mista who holds your hips as your own hands find balance on his chest while he avidly thrusts into you from below, never faltering in his pace, his naturally dark eyes are swirling with lust as he licks his lips and hisses through clenched teeth as a broken groan cracks from his mouth

Narancia who's worked himself up beyond belief as he takes you from above, his normally bright purple are darkened and swirling with adoration and lust, he holds you close, moaning your name over and over as he brings you both closer and closer, stealing kisses from your lips

Fugo who's intense lovemaking is leaving you both covered in a sheen of sweat and out of breath, but he pushes through, determined to send you off the rails once more as he leaves bruises along your body, letting out a groan over your parted lips as your nails rake down his back

Giorno who is dedicated to your pleasure moreso than his own, letting you do as you please as he sinks further into the silk sheets, watching and holding you up as he encourages you on with sweet words while you begin to fall apart, letting groans and moans flow freely from his mouth as he tilts his head back into the pillows

[thus-wrote-mrs-zeppeli]

hear me out

Okuyasu, Trish and Lucy with a reader who's kind of a parental figure for them. Like taking care of them all the time, and just generally being very doting with them. Thank you in advance!

That sounds sweet, lets do it~

Side note I have to say how much I LOVE Trish Una underutilized character big time, she’s so interesting.

Discussion of her becoming a pop star after the events of Golden Wind

Sorry I only really had thoughts for Trish and Lucy, My Daughters fr

Reader is a parental figure to Trish and Lucy

Trish Una: She seems like a closed off girl, but you’re sympathetic to her…it’s difficult to lose your mother that young, AND find out that your biological father quite literally hates you and wants you dead. Really she’s remarkably strong, but she shouldn’t have to be strong at her age.

As a parental figure to her, you try to give her some semblance of a normal life, taking her shopping and buying her all sorts of presents, and supporting her taking some singing classes.

She struggles to open up. Of course she does. She has to be stoic and strong to protect herself, and she had to be on her own when her mother died.

So you have to be patient with her.

But when she finally trusts you, she’ll slowly open up to you, bit by bit. It hurts to hear how scared she really is. How much she hates the legacy her father left behind. She speaks so much about how her father doesn’t determine who she is and what she can do in her life, but sometimes…it still haunts her. He would’ve killed her. Her own father. Even though it’s all over, she can’t escape it.

So even though she doesn’t usually say it, she’s grateful to you. A listening ear, an actual parental figure back in her life…she’s just afraid you’re going to leave or disappear too. So she tries not to be too dependent on you.

She’ll probably never be able to fully open up and confide in you, but she’ll always have a place in your home as a daughter to you. And she’ll remember your kindness to her.

She stays in touch once she’s out on her own. Sometimes she’ll send letters to you or give you a phone call. And you’re always a welcome VIP guest to her concerts. She doesn’t know how to express it, but she’s always happy to see that you’ve come to her shows. Makes her know you’re still on her side and supportive of her.

Lucy Steel: It’s so sad. She’s a young girl. But when you speak to her she talks like an adult, acts like an adult, always forced to behave like an adult.

She doesn’t deserve that. She needs to be a normal kid.

You’re not sure what you’re even supposed to do for her honestly, so you just try to be a friend to her, without any expectations for her to act or talk a certain way. There is no pressure when she’s around you. You just encourage her to think about herself for once. It’s strange, she has to act so grown up all the time that sometimes it seems she’s even more of an adult than you.

At first she can’t even bring herself to drop her act, no matter how comfortable she feels around you. She always has to be Mrs. Steel, even with you. Even though she trusts you and sees you as a parent, she doesn’t even know what children her age do.

You dote on her, and she doesn’t have any adult responsibilities when she’s with you, and you try to encourage her to make friends with people her age. She’s a sweet girl, kind and respectful, but struggles to connect with kids the same age as her. Understandably, since she’s had to be an adult for so long.

You’re glad she’s able to open up to you about how frustrating it is that she just can’t understand her peers, but with your encouragement, she won’t give up.

She’ll always be different from the other children, but the more she gets to slow down and enjoy life again, the more she’s able to relax a bit and not be so formal around other kids.

It always warms your heart to see her smiling and having fun doing normal kid stuff. And she’s grateful to you for giving her the opportunity to be her own age. She makes a habit of sending you money with her letters, and she always makes sure to visit you every couple months once she’s older, to check on you and make sure the person she trusted and loved as her parent is doing okay.

-

I feel my inspiration to write coming back, I’m so glad!

[nastymensimp]

Staring straight at the man you sighed disappointedly and shook your head," I appreciate the thought but you literally cannot do that."

He gasped as if offended, like you doubted the level of skills he possesses. " I think I very much can. What's stopping me?"

" Babe we've been over this, You cannot fight my period"

-----------------------------------------------------------------------

Arataki Itto, Junkrat, Okuyasu, Narancia, Literally all of Dethklok, America, Prussia, Sun, FT Freddy

[bimbosandbubbles]

Thinking about men who love teasing their chubby little wife to tears and babbles

Warnings-mean/nice dom,yandereish but in a soft appealing way, fingering,humiliation done in a gentle way,degradation and praise and ofc hairy pussy mentions bcs it’s natural! Daddy kink!

“You’re so good to me baby,thank you so much for making me that delicious lunch!”

A soft kiss is placed on your chubby cheek—a cheek that’s stretched with a bright smile. You’ve always loved how your husband praised you,always appreciated whatever you’d do for him no matter how big or small.

It could be,”My angel,you look so cute today! That outfit you’re wearing makes me wanna kiss you all over!”

Or range to,”My pretty little wife is so good at listening to me,so perfect for me.I think you need a little reward,huh? What does my good wife think?” He smiles in a innocent way that would fool anyone except you, into thinking he had pure intentions. That hypothesis would be so wrong…because usually a promised reward leads to you you laying nude on the huge king size bed—legs parted to show the patch of hair covering your sopping cunt and your thighs shaking in knowing anticipation.

He’ll slot himself right in between the throbbing area—taunting you when he moves his big thigh against the lower half of your slit. “I know you’ve been such a good girl for me but you have show me how much you want this,okay sweetheart?” You know exactly what he wants so you give it to him. You compliment how good he makes you feel in and out the bedroom—coaxing him with honeyed words straight from the heart and the aching cunt pulsing to be touched.

“Tell me I’m the only one who can make you feel this good—I’m only one who can make you see shooting stars—go on,tell me pretty baby.” You do and emphasize each word by placing a pudgy hand onto his veiny one,making sure to squeeze just enough to let him know how much his effort means to you. “Good girl,thank you for telling daddy how much he means to you…but since you told it’s my turn to show.” He’ll say this and make it sound he’ll finally fuck you—finally free you from the shackles dubbed as excitement.

He doesn’t though instead his slender finger traces the opening and closing entrance—teasing the hole with the thought of fullness. “Tell me more,my sweet girl. Tell daddy how good he makes you feel.” You whine and moan—desperate voice cracking into teased tears that tumble down your cheeks in a way that your husband groans at. “You said I’m a good girl! I want m’ reward already. Please daddy.”

“Aww my good girl,you’re right. No need to be rude. Now tell me”—he pulls a strong hand away from your wet canal. “How bad do you want it?”

He’ll watch you babble and cry for minutes and minutes on end because his cute wife is just so irresistible. With your watery eyes,your trembling plump belly,your cooing and pleading lips—God and that desperate cunt of yours.

The torture and teasing only gets worse once he eases his two digits in you. He’ll often do this one maneuver where his other hand rubs and squeezes the fat of your belly even leaning down to give the pudgy flesh a few bites and marks. He does this all while fingering you til you see white. But once you do he’ll stop,over and over and over until you full on start crying for him to just fuck you.

“Yeah? You want daddy to fuck you? Are my fingers not good enough for you,greedy girl?” You tell him his fingers are oh so good but right now all you need is daddy’s fat cock in you. That’ll make him smile and kiss your little warm chubby face. “You’re such a good girl. Perfect baby—so worthy of daddy’s cum.”

He’ll have you folded to the point your cellulite ridden thighs are pushed all the way to your squish your plump belly so he can see your pretty pussy. He’ll stop and stare as he stokes his aching red cock to the view—he just adores barely getting a sneak peek of what your fat lips and hair covers. He loves being able to see your pubes get stuck to the pure slick everywhere.

When he finally puts it in you’re already telling him how thankful you are for his cock. “So good,my wife. So so so good. You deserve my cock all the time,don’t you?” He’ll have you say over and over that you do deserve his cock and that you love it so much. That no one can ever replace him and no one ever will.

He’s groaning and grunting,thrusting harder into your oh so welcoming pussy. But then he’ll stop,pull out,and force you to hold your legs back for him. He’s stroking his cock again and grinning at your tearful expression that he can barely see over your cute pudge. You look so sad—so empty and upset that his cock isn’t in you no more. But he’ll assure you that you’ll fuck you nice,long and hard to the point you’ll begging him for no more.

But despite the affirmation you’ll still whine and beg for him to just come back inside you. Because you need him,because your pulsing pussy is just so void without his fat cock plugging into it. And of course he gives into you—his sweet precious wife.

The whole night you’re left being edged and empty until finally he makes you see stars three separate times. But oh no—believe for a fact he’s never ever done teasing his wife because he could always make whine for more and more.

Characters

Nanami,Gyomei,Giorno,Taiju,Geto,Higuruma,Uzui,Douma, Eustass Kid,Luci,Aki,Toji,Hisoka,Chrollo,Uvogin, Doflamingo,Barou,Bachira.etc

Reblogs are greatly appreciated!<3

[sweetheartsnips]

Daddy Cool - Chapter 5: Diavolo

Summary: Diavolo is obsessed with his favourite little underling and decides to keep you for himself.

CONTENT WARNINGS: Dubious consent, yandere Diavolo, stalking, abduction/kidapping.

Words: 1.7k

Read on ao3

Also listen to this song for the vibes

For other chapters in this series please see my JoJo masterlist

A/N: Diavolo might be my #1 JoJo crush guys. That is a hard title to hold LMAO. Is that bad? Probably. Also I have never been kidnapped by the mafia so sorry if this isn't accurate.

He knew it when he first saw you.

Not in the way most of his men knew things–there was no question, no hesitation, not a shadow of doubt. He simply knew, with the same certainty that he understood power, possession and control, that you were meant to be his. 

Unfortunately, you didn’t see it that way.

You weren’t like most of his underlings. The ones who caved under his influence with hollow devotion and shallow subordinance. You were different. 

He watched you through Doppio’s eyes often, keeping the real him hidden. The way you pried curiously, stuck your nose into things, challenged things unknowingly. You didn’t truly understand what you had gotten yourself into. You didn’t truly understand what being in his mafia meant. 

One day, you asked his other half about his family. If he had any children. ‘A daughter, perhaps?’ You had asked with a polite smile that was utterly clueless. You truly didn’t know a thing, did you? But that didn’t matter. You had gotten too close. 

So he took you.

︵‿︵୨୧ · · ♡ · · ୨୧‿︵‿

A clean, quiet abduction. Professional. No bruises, no violence, no drugs. You were one of his most prized possessions, after all. How could he allow any harm to come to you? 

You finally woke up in a bed that was far bigger than he knew you were familiar with. Draped in silk, your pretty body wrapped in lace and fabric far more delicate than the rough world he had taken you out of. Cute confusion flickered across your face, then anger when you saw him. You stiffened. 

Not out of fear. You had some semblance of a backbone. Most people in Passione had seen monsters before. But you had never seen him. Only his dear little Doppio. 

He stood at the foot of the bed. Composed, calm, controlled. Every inch the ruler he was, even if you didn’t know it yet. 

“Who are you?” you demanded. Your voice was firm, but you were playing pretend. It was obvious. 

He smiled. Slow but knowing. “I’m the Boss.”

He didn’t need to say any more. The way he could see the cogs turning in your mind, the way your knuckles gripped the satin sheets, the way he caught your breath faltering. It was admirable, really. Most would have been pleading for their life by now. Not you, though. Another reason why you were so special.

He gestured toward the silver tray beside the bed: crystal-clear water, a selection of your favourite foods, things he knew you liked even if you’d never told him. You eyed it warily, suspicion clouding your gaze.

“I don’t want anything from you,” you spat.

He chuckled, stepping closer. You shrank back, just barely faltering.

“You want many things from me, ragazza mia,” he murmured. “You just don’t know it yet.” (my girl) 

Anger flared in your expression, masking the fear you refused to show. You pursed your lips. How cute.

“I own everything you touch. Everything you think of.” His hand reached out, slow, deliberate. Fingers caught your chin, tilting it upward. His thumb brushed against your bottom lip. “I own you.”

You shuddered in response, the faintest spark of something far more amusing than fear flickering in your eyes. 

His voice was low, velvet and steel. “You should be thanking me. Anyone else would have hurt you, piccola.” (little one)

You inhaled sharply, but didn’t pull away.

“But not me,” he continued, his fingers trailing down the side of your neck in a whisper of contact. “I’ll take care of you.”

Your pulse thrummed beneath his touch.

You didn’t take much convincing. 

He pressed against every weakness, every vulnerability, every unspoken need. He knew all your soft spots, after all. All of your likes and dislikes, everything that made you tick. Doppio had been the vessel for his quiet observation of you since the beginning. 

He touched your skin so softly. He ran his fingers through your hair. He spoke praises and sweet nothings in those deep, knowing whispers that would strip you bare in ways that even you yourself wouldn’t understand. 

“Tell me to stop,” he murmured, lips just inches from yours. “And I will.”

Silence.

A war raged in your eyes.

But you didn’t tell him to stop. Not once. 

His lips pressed against yours, slow at first. Testing, waiting, searching for the moment when your resistance would falter. 

He didn’t force you. He didn’t need to.

But he knew.

He knew it in the way your breath hitched, the way your fingers twitched as if you were trying to convince yourself that you wanted to push him away. He knew it in the heat rising beneath your skin, betraying you long before you surrendered.

And when you finally did—when you broke and kissed him back—his control snapped.

A low, satisfied growl rumbled in his throat as he deepened the kiss, dragging you under, pulling you into the depths of his dark and depraved desire. You finally gave way under the sheer force of his obsession.

Hands skimming up your sides, kneading the soft curve of your waist. Palming your thighs, squeezing just enough to make you shiver. Spreading your legs open beneath him slowly, indulging himself with the way your breath hitched, the way your body tensed—like you were still deciding whether to resist or surrender.

“Just say the word, darling , ” he murmured against your ear. “Say no, and this can all be over.”

You didn’t speak. 

You only gasped as his fingers found you, teasing at your most intimate place with unbearable patience. Light, but insistent touches, barely there at first, dragging just enough sensation to make you tremble. Your hips twitched, seeking more, but he denied you, keeping the pace slow, controlled.

The power he held over you was intoxicating.

He watched you closely, fascinated by every little reaction. The way you squirmed, the way your thighs threatened to clamp shut only for him to part them again, effortlessly. The way your body betrayed you despite the defiant press of your lips.

You wanted this.

And he would make you admit it.

He was relentless. Coaxing those sweet little moans from your lips with expert precision. Every sound you made only spurred him on more, each breathless whimper yet another feather in his crown of victories he claimed without shame. 

“Be good for me,” he murmured, voice thick with promise, with possession. His lips ghosted over your jaw, your throat, your shoulder. “And I’ll give you the world, cucciola. ” (sweetheart/baby) 

You were unravelling beneath his hands. 

He moved slowly, savouring that perfect moment when you stopped fighting yourself. And when he finally pressed his cock into you, your back arched against the sheets, a small gasp escaping your pretty mouth. Your body welcomed him, hands gripping at him, sliding down his back, pulling your body against his in an intimate display of submission. 

Heat, tight and overwhelming, wrapped around him, pulling him under just as much as you. His control threatened to snap, but he held steady, drinking in every little sound, every little shudder.

Skin against skin, warmth melting between you. Your softness moulded to his body, and he let himself feel everything —the way you trembled beneath him, the way your fingers traced the scars on his back, a quiet acknowledgment of the battles he’d fought, of the power he wielded so effortlessly. But beneath the hardness of his body, his skin burned against yours, his breath warm where it ghosted over your cheek.

His tattoos shifted as he moved, dark ink stretching and flexing with every slow, deliberate thrust. Emerald eyes watched you closely. You wore that lustful, brainless expression so well. The way your lips parted, the way your brows knitted together, the way your body answered his every touch as if it was meant to be. 

And then you came undone. 

He held you close as you writhed against him–so close that his pink hair stuck to your sweat-slick body as you lost yourself completely to pleasure. It was everything he wanted. Everything he’d been waiting for.

His grip on you tightened, a quiet reminder of his power, of his possession.

And the best part?

You let him.

You gave yourself to a man who only knew how to take. In this moment, in the way you looked at him, in the way your body surrendered—he almost believed you wanted to be his.

Which you were now, regardless. 

The room was thick with heat, with the remnants of quiet moans and broken hesitation still clinging to the walls. Your body was soft beneath his touch, warm, undone, but your eyes were caught between exhaustion and realisation, as if you hadn’t known from the moment he brought you here. 

He brushed a strand of hair from your face, not stopping when you flinched ever so slightly. Your breath was uneven, heart pounding in your ribcage. He was so close to you he could feel it. It was as if you were trying to ground yourself. As if that would make a difference now.

He whispered in your ear. "You’re smart enough to know that I can’t let you go now, aren’t you, tesoro?" (darling) 

No answer.

But he saw it. In the way you hesitated, the way your throat bobbed with a swallowed breath, in the way your muscles tensed even though you were perfectly still. 

You understood. 

He pulled back, reaching for his shirt, taking his time with each button, slowly covering the lace beneath with linen. He could feel your eyes on him, and there was a moment where he thought you might say something. 

But you didn’t.

He left without another word, stepping into the dim hush of the hallway, knowing you wouldn’t follow. 

Now he’s gone. You sit there, motionless, fingers drifting absently to your lips. Where the heat of the last kiss still lingers. Where the taste of the devil is still fresh.

The same thought echoed in the otherwise emptiness of your conscience.

What have you done?