#jojo ☠️

[toxicanonymity]

Collect calls. jailbird pt. 2 of 3

3600, cellmate's nephew!Joel x inmate f!reader

brilliant edit by @not-a-unique-snowflake-blog. custom tats!

SUMMARY: You kinda try to be careful over the phone, but you want each other too bad. So it's hard. Rock hard. Joel sends you a short letter and comes to visit again. Follows Jailbird, but this is 69% dirty talk (I did the math). You can prob read alone. PT 3 of 3 is Parole. WARNINGS: I8+ SO HORNY, hella dirty talk from both, phone sex, mild degradation/teasing, tension, masturbation, Joel is a slut and mentions getting blown, creative mail. Barely edited horny chaos but I wanna feed ya and this ain't fine dining. A/N: Part 2 of 3. Thank you for the love on Jailbird! And THANK YOU @not-a-unique-snowflake-blog for the amazing edit omg. Make sure you see the Jojo gif 🥵 His specific tattoos and all 😍 joel master list, @toxicfics for notifs. PART 3 HERE.

When you got back from visitation, your cellmate Mabel's face lit up.  She was excited to hear about it, but when she looked you over, she said, “Oh boy, it’s worse than I thought. . . I’m gonna go play spades, honey. You do what ya need to do.” 

You shook your head, “Mabel. . .”

“Take your time,” she said with a wink. "Not that you'll need it." Then she stood up and stretched before leaving the cell.  

You got in your bed, on your side, under the blanket. You clenched your thighs together looking at the picture of a slightly younger him with not nearly as much silver in his beard. You put your pillow between your legs, rolled over so you were mostly stomach-down, and your hips moved as you put your head in the crook of your arm and recalled the way he looked at you, his strong hands, his tattoos. His voice. You wondered what it sounded like when it wasn’t through a telephone, but god damn, it did something to you. “ain’t nothin’ harder than mine, baby.” Fuck. 

You were already getting close, wouldn’t even need to use your hand at this rate. You thought about the way his arm flexed as his hand moved in his lap. Oh God, the bulge and outline in his jeans when he stood up. The way he adjusted himself.  He might be too big for you to take all of him, but god damn, you'd give it your best shot. You rubbed yourself against your pillow to the rhythm of his hand rubbing his lap in your mind, clenched your thighs again and you came, whining "Jojo" into your elbow. You heard it too many times a day to get it out of your head – He told you to call him Joel, but Mabel made it somewhat difficult. 

---

He was hot as fuck, but it was also cute how close he and Mabel were. It made him seem like a good guy, even though neither of them were particularly upstanding members of society.  You supposed neither were you by most standards, but it’s not like any of you had ever intentionally hurt anyone who didn’t deserve it. That you knew of.  The fact that Jojo served time was hot and also put you at ease. It had to have been a while based on the spiderweb, unless he was just trying to look hard, but he didn’t seem the type to bullshit anything. How did you even know what type he was though? You hardly knew  him? You dreaded Mabel’s teasing but you could withstand it in order to find out more.

You got off once more while you were at it, taking advantage of the privacy.  Then you sat up, rested against the wall, and just looked at the picture. Unfolded, you looked at both of them. It was so sweet. He looked happy. His hand on her shoulder had the spade tattoo.  Your eyes fell on your own poke-and-stick clover from Mabel and your stomach fluttered when you saw the flared stem and circular leaves. It might as well have been a Club.  “Mabel,” you muttered and shook your head.  

While she was still playing Spades, you went over to her bed to look at the other photos up close. In another picture, they were at a barbecue in a parking lot. Joel was on the left and Mabel was on the right. Joel was wearing a wifebeater and Mabel was wearing a black t-shirt with a carousel pony on the right pocket.  

You hadn’t noticed before, but there were a few women in swimsuits and aprons in the background. One of them was looking at Jojo. Who wouldn’t? Mabel’s words echoed in your mind — of course he’d like you. You’ve got a cunt and  you’re not bad lookin'. you rolled your eyes. Shit. You resolved to put yourself in pro mode and try to detach. 

—--

Over the next week, you spoke with him several times on the phone. You tried to be careful. You wren’t sure if all calls were reviewed or it was just by sample. You figured it would be suspicious to ask. You hoped whoever listened didn’t mind some harmless horny talk.  The only stuff they should really care about should be scheming. Like making moves and putting out hits from the inside. Or smuggling from the outside. 

—---

He answered the phone, “There she is.”  A vaguely endearing greeting since you and Mabel called from the same collect number. 

“Hey handsome,” you responded. 

“I was just thinkin’ about ya, jailbird.”

“Yeah?”

“Oh yeah,” he said deeply then sighed. “Ya just missed it.” Good God, his voice.

“Missed–”

“C’mon, baby. Use that pretty head. How bout I’ll wait for ya tomorrow?” 

Your heart skipped a beat.  “Yeah.”

“Just call at the same time.” 

“Okay,” you agreed with a smile in your voice. “It was nice to see you the other day. . .” 

“Oh, baby you got no idea,” he groaned. “I’m comin’ back next week.” 

“Are they gonna let you back?” you giggled.

“They’ve gotta! I didn’t do nothin’.”

“You didn’t. . .you’re right. . .” 

“Hey don’t give’em any ideas.”

"Right," you laughed. 

"What are ya gonna do when ya get out?"

“In general? Try to find honest work, I guess.” 

“Nothin’ dishonest ‘bout what you were doin’. But I hear ya, parole’s a bitch.” 

“You on parole?”

“Nah, long time ago though.” 

‘Yeah?”

“Kept my nose clean the whole damn time.  Ended up back in the can anyway.” 

"For what"

"Framed for fuckin' murder."

"What??"

"Relax, I was exonerated." 

"No shit."

"Yeah." He cleared his throat and changed the subject. "You ever danced?"

"Course I fuckin' danced"

"Where at?"

"In memphis."

"Oh, I dunno jack shit about that scene."

"Wasn't great."

"Guess that's where you uh, got your start though."

"Yeah."

"Well do what ya want but lemme know if ya need a gig."

'Thanks." 

He sighed. "I know it sucks not gettin' any in there. "

"Yeah."

"Are ya? Gettin' any? Girls, guards?"

"No," you answered, looking over your shoulder. "Think I could tell ya if I was, though?"

"Shit, sorry." 

"You gettin' any?" 

"Oh I'm a straight up ho." 

"Yeah?" You asked, intrigued.  "Surprised I hadn't seen ya at the clinic," you teased. 

"Cause I'm way the fuck 'cross town. Got our own clinic." 

"Good for you." A pleasant surprise that he stayed clean. 

"Yeah, on a first name basis. Make my girls go, too. Still wrap it most the time though." 

"Your girls."

"Dancers."

"Right." Mabel had mentioned he worked at a club. "Well, at least one of us is gettin' some."

"Shit, I was gettin' some sugar the other night," he said. "Pretty little head between my legs 'n I was lookin' at your picture."

Your heart fluttered. "No shit," you laughed. "My picture, huh?"

"Ohh, you don't even know. I want it bad, sugar, and I ain’t even tasted it." 

"Yeah?" 

"Shit I prolly think about it as much as you do . . .and I've got a life." 

"Who says I think about it?" You asked flirtatiously.

"I got ESP. Makes me tingle when ya do."

"Oh does it?"

"Ya think about me in the shower, in bed. . ." 

You laughed. "And where do you think about me?"

"Fuckin' everywhere. I've gotta have ya, baby. So bad it hurts." 

—----------

Whenever you came back to your cell after talking to Jojo, Mabel would leave to make a phone call or go to the common area to watch whatever outdated movie was playing in the common area. Often with a wink. She knew he got you all wound up. 

—----------

You called him at the same time the next day. 

"How's your week been," you asked. 

"Hard," he said, then his voice became hornier.  "So fuckin' hard. . . n' that's all you." You could hear his belt and zipper. 

"Wish I could help."

“i'm sure ya can once you're out. If you wanna hang out sometime.” You heard a bottle click open then squirt. 

You teasingly hummed as though thinking it over. "Mmmm. . . .I dunno, what would you wanna do?”

“I can pick ya up right from the slammer, ‘less ya got someone else.”

“I don’t.”

“Great, then we can just. . . i dunno, get to know each other,” he mused, then added at a lower pitch, “In the back seat of my whip. Stop off somewhere close.” 

“Oh yeah?”

“Fuck yeah,” he said. “You don’t understand, baby. I’ve gotta see what’s under that garb.” His hand was sliding up and down his lubed up cock. “I’ve gotta feel it.” 

Butterflies swarmed in your chest and you sighed.

“What were ya wearin’ when ya got picked up?”

“Well. . . you already know what I’m in for. . .”

"Damn right I do, and you're gonna find out."

You laughed – at visitation, he said you were in for it. . 

"C’mon, jailbird. What were ya wearin.”

“A black microskirt"

"Mmm."

"Black mesh crop top"

"Yeahhh"

"Over a pink bra.”

“Ohhh, fuck,” he sighed. “Shoes?”

“Shit, I’m not–hmm." You tried not to overthink it. "Definitely platforms. Silver and clear, I think."

He gave a low whistle. "Sounds hot as shit." 

“And fishnets. Shit, that's all I had,” you laughed. "Maybe you can bring me something else." 

“God damn, that’s what I get to pick ya up in?”

“I mean, I wasn’t planning on the fishnets.”

“Commando in that skirt? Shit, that’s even better.” His breath grew heavier. "Fuck it, just sit on me while I drive," he murmured. "Yeah, fuckin' sit on *this* the whole drive–ugghh." As if avoiding the word cock would make this conversation passable.

You sighed and tried to hide your arousal from the Corrections Officer (CO) standing 8 ft away. 

"Can't get it in ya soon enough, baby." 

"Mmm," you said quietly. "Can't wait."

"Jailbird, you're fuckin killin' me." He moaned. "Hot as hell. . . fuck."

"You sure I can take it?"

"Fuck, I dunno, baby," he panted. "It's a lot."

"I could tell"

"Uugggghhh," He groaned and you heard his hand sliding faster on his dick. "And what'd ya think about that ?"

"Oh, I’m up for the challenge,” you cooed saucily. "Just get me nice 'n ready."

"You ready right now?"

"The second I heard your voice."

"Fuck, I gotta know what ya taste like"

"Mmm."

"Yeah," he panted.,"And when you're nice and ready, then what?"

You lowered your voice to a near whisper. "Oh, just fuckin' wreck me. Split me open, baby." All you could do was clench your thighs together.

"Ohhh god"

"Don't hold back"

"Ohh fuck–couldnt if I tried." He sighed.

You had lost all restraint and just prayed whoever reviewed this call would be cool.  

"Just stuff me full of it," you whispered. 

"Fuck, yeah."

"Stretch me out." 

"Ohh yeah." 

"Pound me so hard i can’t see straight."

"Shit." He moaned and his hand moved faster. 

"And then? Fill me the fuck up. I wanna feel it." 

"Fuck yeah," he panted "i'll be seepin' outta ya for days."

"Then you better fill me up again." 

"Jesus, fuck–ohhh." 

"Don't tell me you'd spill it this fast."

"Oh fuck you," he laughed in good humor. "I'm not spillin' shit." You could still hear his hand. 

"Not even if I'm sittin' on ya while ya drive?"

"Not even." 

"Not with one hand on the wheel and one on my tit?"

"Ohh fuck," he breathes.  "No, no. . ."

"And I'm moanin' your name with every bump in the road?"

"Mmmm, fuck, baby."

"Oh ya like that?" 

"Fuckin'--fuck–fuckin' love it."

"Wouldya mind slidin' that hand down between my legs?" 

"Wherever ya want it, baby."

"Ugh, those big hands," you whispered. "I just know you can use'em."

"Fuckin' right I can," he panted.  

"Hope ya don't finish while you're drivin' with me in your lap."

"All ya gotta do is sit still."

"Imagine the mess if you came." 

"Fuck, baby," he sighed.

"Every time we hit a bump, more would spill out in  your lap.”

“Ohh, fuck."  Then a long, drawn out moan like he was coming. You were throbbing wildly. 

"Knew ya were close," you laughed. Then you heard a heavy smack on his end of the line. Then there was nothing but breathing for a minute, then it sounded like he was writing. 

"What are you doing now?"

"Addressing an envelope."

"You're not mailing me your–"

"No I'm not mailin' you my" he laughed,  "Load."

"Just a letter?

"Yeah. . . Just a letter." 

"Mmkay. . . How 'bout a picture?"

His tone was warm and flattered. "Oh I can throw in a pic. But it's not gonna be the kind ya *really* want."

"Booo," you pouted.

'Think you'll like it anyway."

"Yeah, I can fill in the rest." 

Your time was up. 

—-------

You went back to your cell and sighed as you sat down on your bed. Mabel started to leave but you said, "no, you're good." You'd rub one out later. You wanted to ask Mabel if he really liked you, but you wouldn't let yourself be vulnerable like that. You were still trying to detach.  

"You're right, he's cool," you said. 

 "You like him, don't ya? He likes you, too.”  

She reached under her mattress into the fitted sheet and got out her poke and stick supplies. “C’mere, let's just get it over with,” she said. 

“What, uh, what do you wanna give me?”

"J. . . O. . ." 

Your whole upper body heated up and you laughed under your breath, "Mabel." She was mostly kidding. 

—-----------

Visitation day came and you weren't nervous, just excited. He was wearing a too-small, black softwash t-shirt, black jeans, and a chain.

“Be good,” the guard warned Joel as you picked up the phone on your side. 

"Yes, officer,” Joel replied with a respectful nod, then sat down. You noticed his rings as he picked up his phone. “We gotta be good,” he said with a wink.  

“So be good,” you told him vacantly as your eyes roamed his tattoos. 

He stared at you for a few seconds, hungrily taking in the mundane sight of you in your garb. He shook his head like he couldn’t believe it. 

“How’d ya get hotter? Chicks don’t get hotter in lock-up, much less in a week.” 

“What, and men do? It’s in your head.”

“Well yeah, we work out like mad.” 

“Guess you’ve got me there.” 

“Not talkin’ 'bout your body. It’s bangin’, but, I mean–no makeup and you’re pretty as hell.” 

You smiled and shrugged, "thanks," then whispered, "but I think you're just horny," with a wink.  He returned the shrug. 

A few seconds of silence passed as he checked you out. You salivated over his arms stretching his shirt. He leaned forward and put his elbows on the table. “Whatcha thinkin about?”

“I’m thinkin’ ya look like a slutty bouncer. . .You get this shit at Spirit Halloween?”

Joel chuckled. “Well . . . you know what *I’m* thinkin’ about.” His eyes glued to your chest. 

Yeah, yeah, he’s gotta see what’s under that garb. “Yeah, you’ll see it, honey," you said. 

It was a struggle knowing what to say–you wanted to “be good” and not get cut short, but you also wanted to indulge in your fantasies. 

Joel asked, “Where ya wanna go when ya get out?”

“Anywhere. Got some place in mind?”

“Could take ya to my place. Mabel taught me a mean pot roast recipe.” 

You smiled. “You’re makin' me hungry.”

“Oh I’m starvin’, baby.”

"Long drive?"

He exhaled with a puff of his cheeks. "It’ll feel long that day."

“I’m sure it will,” you purred, looking down as if you could see through the booth right to his cock. You wet your lips. “So what’s between here and home?”

He took a deep breath, thought for a second, and told you what highway it was. 

“Oh, okay,” you nodded. “There’s a seven eleven right outside the gate here. 

“There sure is," Joel nodded. "Clean bathrooms too. I checked on my way.”

“You did not.” 

“I’m tellin’ ya," he nodded. "Stopped for gas. First thing I thought about. Swear I think about it as much as you do.” 

“So what’s in the bathroom?”

“Steel handicap railing about hip height”

You raised your eyebrows, intrigued.

“Pretty sturdy to hold onto, or even sit on.” He looked over his shoulder “Like if someone needed a rest or whatever.” He rolled his eyes. 

“Right," you said softly as you nodded. 

"Diaper changin' thingy, too."

You scrunched your face up. 

"Like if ya needed to bend over it and stretch your back.” 

"Ah," you nodded. "Nah."

“Parking lot?”

“That close to here, it’s gotta be crawling with pigs.” 

“Right,” he said in a trance, looking at your mouth. 

“Alright, where else is there," you asked. 

"Rest stop. They got picnic tables near the woods if ya need to, uh," he looked down, "Sit down," he said quieter, "n' take a rest." 

"Oh, I won't want a rest." You slowly shook your head and your eyes lingered on his chain. 

He groaned softly and rested his chin in his hand. He whispered, "You're killin' me here." He scratched his beard and you tingled at the sight of the silver patches, his pinky ring, his hand tattoos–the faded barbed wire.  You sighed. 

"You bein' good?" He asked. 

"Yeah." You resigned yourself to harmless small talk for a few minutes, but it was obvious what you both were thinking about.  There were long silences where you just stared at each other.  

“Just a few more weeks and I’m yours,” you teased. 

His eyes widened and he raised his eyebrows. “You serious?”

Oh, shit - you didn’t wanna scare him off.  Really didn’t even mean it like that, but, you also didn’t mind the thought of him as a boyfriend. 

You nodded and teased, “yours to do what you please.”

He blew out a puff of air. "God damn, baby. I don't think you know what’s comin’ your way.”

“Can’t wait to find out, though.”

“Oh, you’re gonna find out.”  He dug his hand into his lap but didn’t move it. “Shit.”

“Sorry.”

“Never be sorry.”

The guard barked,”Hands where I can see’em,” and Joel obediently raised his hand and put both elbows on the table again. 

"You ain't gonna want no one else again." 

You rolled your eyes at his cockiness which actually turned you on. 

"Don't say I didn't warn ya," he cautioned. 

"Okay," you shrugged with a contemplative frown. 

"Shit, I might be in the same boat." He swallowed and looked like he meant it. Like maybe you were doing something to him that hadn't been done.

"Get my letter yet?" Joel asked. 

"No." 

He smirked, then it faded as he checked you out for the hundredth time. He shook his head, sat back, and took a deep breath.  "This is fuckin' torture." 

"Then it's a good thing I waited til now to ask about ya." 

"the best torture," he clarified, his forehead beginning to glisten. "I'm gonna fuckin explode when I'm back in my ride."  He looked at the unopened box of tissues on his side of the booth, intended for crying visitors. "Thank God I didn't ride the hog." Fuck, he had a motorcycle, too? He held the phone wedged between his ear and shoulder while he opened the plastic on the box and tried to get the tissues started. Then he took three tissues out.  Your breath hitched at the thought of his cum. Was it silky? Stringy? Watery? Sticky? What'd it taste like? Ugh. 

"HANDS," the guard said when he saw Joel finish pocketing the tissues. The guard stepped forward. "Say goodbye, let's go."

"Fuck." Joel sighed and closed his eyes. "Sorry, jailbird." 

When he stood up, you could see the outline of his hard dick on his thigh. You took a deep breath and pried your eyes off his crotch to briefly meet his eyes. He winked and you managed a small smile before eyes fell right back to his jeans as he adjusted himself. Fuck. 

—---------------

Joel’s letter came a couple days later. A photo fell out of it. Black and white. He was sitting in a chair and smoking with one hand holding the cigarette up and his other hand resting between his legs.  Arms blazing in a white t-shirt. Squinting at the camera. He looked hot as hell despite having all his clothes on. He looked like a model. 

The letter was on plain white printer paper, and the letter was short: 

Be good, jailbird. I'll take ya anywhere. 

Sweet, and also sexy. God, you wanted him to take you. 

You flattened out the letter and admired his poor but legible handwriting. Not as bad as some you'd seen. His handwriting was hot.  It was cute that he didn't use any special stationary.  He was a simple man. And God, what a man. You ran your fingers over the words,  and they caught on a different texture.  Something on the paper.  You smelled it and it wasn't cum. It was, like, lotion or Vaseline. 

Wait. You held it up, and your breath hitched. 

You looked behind you to make sure no one was watching, then you stood up, got closer to the light, and held it at an angle. Holy shit. It was his dick print, diagonal across the paper.  A bolt of desire shot through your body.  It was transparent but the different texture was visible. You could see the head, then most of the shaft. It was detailed, there was texture. Even a couple of veins. 

You sat on your bed, leaning against the wall with your knees up.  You rested the paper against your knees at an angle with the tip pointed between your legs.  You just wanted to get a sense of the size–and boy did you–but the sight of it, God. Just the silhouette of it lined up right there made you feral. You needed it so bad.  Needed him.  Who the hell mails a dick print? Fuckin’ Jojo, he was gonna be the death of you.

-----

Thank you so much for reading and engaging! Your engagement really keeps me going, I love y'all.

This AU is due to @beskarandblasters and @wannab-urs and their hilarious list of new joel tropes. But I played myself because he's actually hot and I want him?

Notes

The slapping sound after he came was him letting his cock slap onto the paper.

There are a lot of correctional facilities where they wouldn't get away with all this so you gotta suspend disbelief.

The strip club will be an alternate timeline of this Joel set in the past.

-----

I hear tags aren't working for some people. Please consider following @toxicfics and subscribing to notifications. Must have tumblr push notifications enabled on your phone.

-----

All Joel:@ethanhoewke @silkiers @eiviea @evyiione @xdaddysprincessxx @queerly-anxious @chernayawidow @ambassadortotrilliusprime @not-a-unique-snowflake-blog @jasminespringtime @romanarose @fandomsfallnomore @djarinxore @blackvelveteen1339 @manazo @wolvesandvampires @taeslarityy @str84pedro @lokanda  @kyloispunk @filthfairy @fieryglutenfreechickennoodles @harriedandharassed @moonlightdivine @worhols @fan-fiction-floozy @cutesyscreenname   @weddingfairy @pedropascal-whore @spideysimpossiblegirl @feministfanboi @gracieispunk @prettypartyfavor @am-3-thyst @babeincolor @milla-frenchy @switchbladedreamz @within-the-depths @am-3-thyst @may-machin @pedromania91 @sloanexx @paleidiot @yourmistysecret

[poopyballz28]

Ya know, after seeing so many viral TikTok haha funny Baki videos, it is just now dawning on me how bat-shit insane Baki is to people who haven't seen it before. Because it has essentially become second nature for me to see Baki scenes and not really think anything of it. Just like "Oh, classic Baki moment. Silly. Good job Itagaki." but to people who HAVEN'T been obsessed with it for so long, it is absolutely jarring in a way that isn't explainable. Like these people cannot believe a thing like Baki exists. And in a way, I don't blame them. But at the same time, that uniqueness and general "bizarreness" is what makes Baki such an intriguing and spectacular piece of media. Just a little upsetting that people tend to poke fun at Baki for being "weird" and having a unique art style rather than actually giving it a standing chance.

[todayisafridaynight]

you probably won't even care about yakuza by the time the plushies are out if we go by your track record

i cant even deny this cause my interests do tend to have a shelf life of one year and it'll be one year come june

[happyfunf3tti]

2008 was such a a great year

[cloudyy-121]

Random doodles I did yesterday in the night

[lasquadraarchive]

Do you think Sorbet and Gelato's stands are more suited for torture and combat or tracking and intel? I'm make stands for them.

Sorbet is Iron Maiden and Gelato is Van Halen, is this goid?

Hiii sorry for the late reply ☹️ I was busy with irl stuff lansowjehs but anyways

Hmm I think both sorbet and gelato's stands aren't the best for gruesome actions !

From what we've gotten out of that duo I'm assuming their stands aren't that important to begin with, maybe gelato's stand is a tracking stand like you mentioned and isn't fit for fighting but sorbet, on the other hand sorbet's is a bit better compared to gelato.

I like to imagine gelato's stand as a camera or some physical object that can't be used for fights (unless he just throws that camera in his foe's face ☠️) or even a stand with its own humanoid form that still tracks if they had some info;maybe a blood sample or something abt the person he's tracking.

I'm not quite sure what I think of when I imagine sorbet tho 🤔 maybe a stand that's more idk savage, a bit more to the wilder side like fugo's stand. Ps: One thing I would like to mention is, in the manga they're both heinous criminals and insane so they'll most likely have a stand that resembles that !

But anywyas I love the stand names so much! I love another metalhead in la squadra<3 I've heard that they were inspired by savage garden so if I was araki I would name their stands over SG's songs !! <3 but it's your headcanon do whatever you want with the stands have fun!!

Tbh no wonder they were eliminated so quickly, they might've gotten very close to finding out who the boss is, such a threat to diavolo omao 🥶

[kuujo]

Unpopular opinions about jjba 🤔

phantom blood isnt as boring as people think it is

[rnbpostings]

Them also. Twinsies

[thestarsinjune]

i've been reading some gothic literature lately and i know i have jojo induced brain damage cause i keep seeing the similarities between phantom blood and whatever book i'm reading

[toxicanonymity]

Parole.

3k words, joel miller x f!reader

Jojo playlist, joel master list, @toxicfics for notifs

SUMMARY: PWP. Phone sex and just-got-out-of-jail sex.  

WARNINGS: I8+, dirty talk, jacking off, groping while driving, oral F receiving, Unsafe P in V intercourse, semi-public (bathroom). Reader can sit on a sink.

A/N: cellmate's nephew!Joel, part 3 of 3 (just 8k total) , follows Jailbird and Collect Calls but you just need to know his aunt Mabel is your cellmate. This is the last of Jailbird for the foreseeable future. It’s been a fun diversion.  This is not the last of Jojo.

—---

All goes well at your parole hearing. After you get your 72 Hour release notice, you call Joel. 

He answers the phone, "You're gettin' out," and you can hear his smile. 

"How did you–did Mabel tell you?"

"Had a feeling.  So what, 3 days now?" He opens and squirts the lube. 

"9pm Monday."

"You just made my dick so hard, baby."

"Jojo. . ."

"Hmm?"

"God, sorry - Joel"

"Call me whatever ya want, jailbird. Mm. Call me joel, call me jojo--mm, call me call me any time baby”

“Can’t wait to be on the other side of that glass.” 

"And I'm gonna pop that post-penny cherry" (post-penitentiary) 

“Shhh”

"What they're gonna un-parole ya 'cause there’s a hard dick waitin’ for ya?"

“Well, I like the sound of that,”  you purr. 

“Oh we’re gonna get nasty, baby,” he breathes. 

“Mmm”

“You wear thongs, g-strings, whatcha wear?” His fist slurps up and down his cock. 

“Thongs,” you tell him. “Boy shorts if I wanna be comfy.” 

“Damn. . . that ass in boy shorts?  Whew.” 

“How ‘bout you?”

“Boxer briefs.” 

“Mm, shoulda known. Those tight-ass pants”

“Yeah, ya like’em?”

“Like how ya wear’em”

“How’s that”

“Packing somethin’ fat and juicy for me.”

He moans. “Fuck yeah i am, just for you baby”

“Just for me?”

“‘S’all for you, baby. How ya want it first?”

“Honey, I just want it.”

“Can i come inside ya?”

“Mmmm, yeah. . .” 

“Fuck, i’m gonna pump you full,” his voice tells you he’s already close. 

“You better.” 

“Fuck yeah, baby.” His hand is moving faster. “Ohhh, fuck” He shudders and groans long and drawn out as he comes.

“Started without me didn’t ya” 

“Wouldn’t do that,” he says in a transparently false tone. 

“Hope ya can last longer than that,” you tease.

“Fuck you,” he laughs. “Shit, maybe I can’t. ‘S’what ya do to me, baby.” 

“Then we’ll just have to do it again.”

“Oh I’m grocery shoppin’ like it’s the apocalypse. Won’t have to leave the house for a week.”

—------

Mabel gives you one last poke-and-stick tattoo, a heart on your other hand, mirroring the location of your "clover." The last thing she tells you is, “He’s snipped, ya know. I took care of him after he did it. ” 

“Nice.”

“Yeah, he knows he's not dad material," she explains, then lightens the mood with, "he's daddy, not dad," and a wink. 

You're gonna miss her. But if things go well with Joel, you’ll see her again in a few months. 

—----

Walking down the ramp from the tower toward the jail lobby, you can taste the freedom and almost forget what you’re wearing – booty skirt, platform heels, mesh crop top, fishnets. 

His posture is what catches your eye first. Feet spread, arms crossed. Your eyes fall to his bulge then pan up to a white t-shirt struggling to contain the tattooed arms crossed in front of him. Gold chain, Adam's Apple. As his face comes into focus, he tilts his head back and squints, pursing his lips in a pained expression as he looks at you. His expression is enough to remind you what you’re wearing. By the time you reach him, he’s biting his lip, shaking his head at you with his eyes smiling. 

He opens his arms and wraps around you for a full-body hug. He smells like fresh cologne, and he feels safe and comfortable.  He feels like – ohhh, yeah, he’s already getting hard. You’re holding a plastic bag of your belongings—phone and keys—against his back. 

“God damn,” he whispers into your hair and his pelvis subtly presses his growing arousal into you. He murmurs, “Mmm, let’s get the fuck outta here.” 

He grabs your hand and your shoes click as you walk through the sliding doors to the parking lot. As soon as the doors slide closed behind you, he drops your hand and grabs your ass.  His hand spans much more of your asscheek than you're used to. The beauty of the sky at dusk overwhelms you, even with the lights from the jail. 

“Let’s make it to the car,” you laugh. 

He puffs out his cheeks with an exhale and gets his keys out of his pocket with his free hand.  Then he points to a big truck and unlocks it. 

He opens the truck door for you and his hand on your ass helps you up into the seat. Oh the simple joy of getting in a vehicle. You start to grab the seatbelt, and he tells you, “nah, hold on a sec.” When he gets in the driver’s seat he slams up the center console, slides over and you turn to face him as he reaches you.  

He grabs the back of your head and pulls your face into his. His tongue parts your lips and his mouth is minty.  He sucks hard and gently chews your lips as he grabs your far thigh and puts it over his lap.  Then he grabs you by both hips and pulls you all the way into his lap with your help so you’re straddling him. When your crotch meets the warm steel rod in his pants, you whimper and he sighs vocally. Then your mouths connect again. You’ve been dying of thirst and he’s a tall glass of water; you just can’t get enough. 

His hands run down your fishnet thighs as you grind on him and make out. He playfully plucks one of the diamonds and murmurs in such a deep voice, “Thought ya weren’t wearin’ these, hmm?” Then he attacks your neck with his mouth, and you sigh.  Out of the corner of your eye, you see a Corrections Officer headed your way. 

“Shit,” you say, “We should go.” 

He groans. 

“They're comin’, we gotta go,” you repeat and pry yourself off of him. 

He takes a deep breath and his hips lift out of the seat as he adjusts himself, then scoots back over to the driver’s seat and buckles his seatbelt. You start to go back to the passenger seat and buckle yours, but he says, “get back over here.”  He hands you the middle seatbelt. 

—----

You tease, “we 'bout to peel outta here?”

"Buckle up, baby.” 

He puts his hand behind you to back up. A whiff of his sweat under the cologne makes you want him even worse. 

You awkwardly try to keep your hands to yourself. He’s the one driving, so you’ll let him initiate any distraction. "Where we headed?"

"How ‘bout we get ya some real food, ya hungry?”

“Yeah, I could eat.” 

He gives a low whistle and says, “so could I, baby. can’t wait to taste ya." He looks at your legs. “Fuck.”  He puts his hand on your thigh, a ring pressing into your skin. “Mmm.” His voice is so deep. “Been savin’ this just for me, huh?'' His wrist pushes your skirt out of the way as his hand slides toward your crotch.  He finds your clit with ease, even while driving. He clearly knows what he’s doing and he could get you off like this in a minute or two, but he needs his hand back to make some turns. 

You put your hand on his meaty thigh and ask “can I. . .”

“*can* you? Fuck yeah you can” He lifts his elbow, welcoming your hand to his lap. 

You grab the bulge in his jeans and get a zap of need in your core. You slowly press your hand into his warm, hard package and feel the outline of his thick cock.  You’re aching for him. You’re about to ask him to pull over when he puts on the blinker and see you’ve arrived at Waffle House. 

“Here good?” He says as he pulls into a parking space.  

“Hell yeah,” you answer. 

He breathes a sigh of relief. “Cause if ya don’t like WaHo, we ain’t gonna work anyway.” You both unbuckle your seatbelts.

"Oh, here," you take your hand back as he reaches back behind the passenger seat, and your eyes glue to his huge bulge. He hands you a leather jacket, and says, “Just if ya want it.”  It’s a little warm for it, but it’s a nice thought if you wanted to cover up. At WaHo, you don’t really care. That’s the magic of it. He reaches back behind the seat again and you glance at his earring. He returns with a target bag.

You peek into the bag. There’s a casual tank dress, flip flops, and . ..boy shorts. Your heart flutters that his dirty question led to such a wholesome gesture. 

“You bought me clothes?”

“Yeah, coulda brought some’a Mabel’s but–”

“That could get weird”

“Yeah.” 

—---

You walk in front of Jojo into the breezeway, then into the restaurant. No one bats an eye at how you’re dressed.  You hold up the bag of clothes and ask, “Mind if I change ‘fore we eat?” A waitress behind the counter leans to the side to look around you, checks Jojo out and says, “get it, girl.” 

“That’s what i’m talkin’ bout,” Jojo murmurs to you and gives her a wink. 

Both the individual bathrooms are occupied. Joel stands with his back against the wall facing the bathrooms, so y’all are waiting out of view of the grill. You’re facing him.  He grabs your ass with both hands, pulling you into him, massive erection straining his pants, yearning to get to you. His cock digs into your front.  You kiss him and he kneads your butt cheeks as your mouths consume each other. He moans quietly into your mouth.  His hard cock twitches against you. 

He breaks the kiss and breathes heavily against your ear, then whispers “feel like i’m gonna die.” 

A toilet flushes. The bathroom smells faintly of cleaning supplies, and it doesn’t look dirty. The illusion of cleanliness is enough to not think about it. 

You wanna be right on top of him, but as he locks the door, you find yourself slowly taking a step backwards, watching him in anticipation, almost like you’re daring him to come after you and show you what he’s got.  He looks at you darkly and prowls toward you, unbuckling his belt, lips parted, eyes dark like a stalking animal.  You freeze. He unbuttons his jeans and walks until his hardness bumps into your thigh. 

Then, at a faster pace, he walks you almost all the way to the sink, then grabs your butt to stop you.  He hikes up your skirt so it's all the way over your ass. He grabs your ass with one hand and pulls you into him again. The strength of his erection through his exposed boxer briefs gives you another shock of arousal on top of your already desperate need. He pulls back his hips enough for his free hand to engulf your crotch.  His thick middle finger presses down on the (very) damp spot in your leggings. 

"Soaked for me, aren't ya?" The hand on your ass slides down and curls between your legs. His warm finger slips into one of the fishnet holes. 

He uses both hands, one from the front and one from the back, to rip open the fishnets. “Fuck yeah,” he growls. The hand from the back returns to your asscheek, while the other hand remains between your legs.  The side of his index finger meets your dripping seam. “Mmmmmm,” he slides his hand up and down for just a couple of seconds, then looks at the sink. “Think ya can sit up here?”

“mm. yeah, if you–”

He helps you onto the edge of the sink. You hold onto the sides and he immediately squats down with his head between your legs. 

“Just fuck me,” you say, dying to have him inside you. Your walls are twitching as though your cunt is making a gimme gimme motion like a fist.

“i gotta taste ya," he mumbles as he spreads your thighs.  “Sorry, just a sec.” He further rips the fishnets, exposing you to the cool air then sighs, “fuck,” as he reaches behind you to hold your ass. He whispers “just real quick,” his hot breath on your mound, before he plants his mouth on your cunt. 

He licks at your entrance.  “Mmmm,” he tongues and sucks your clit, then takes one hand off your ass to palm his boxer briefs. 

You fist his hair, sighing, “Ohh God, I need that cock, baby. We got time for this later.” You’re physically aching to be filled. 

He kisses your clit goodbye, then whispers, "god damn."  He puts both hands on your thighs as he stands up.  When he’s standing, he yanks his boxer briefs down and his naked cock bobs heavily, making you nearly drool. He’s shaved. It’s thick. Length-wise you might be able to take it. The girth will be a stretch. 

He curls his fingers under your mesh crop top and you raise your arms as he discards it. “Fuck it, you’re changin’, right?” He tugs at your bra, and you take it off. 

“Oh, fuck me,” he takes in the sight of your tits and can’t resist sucking a nipple into his mouth while palming the other. 

You grab his cock. “Are you gonna put this in me tonight or nah?”

“God damn, you need it don’t ya?” He wraps an arm around you  and you put your arms around his neck. He nudges you by the ass toward the edge.

“fuck just give it to me.” 

He runs his swollen, mauve tip through your slick, then notches it at your entrance and plunges into you with a groan. You gasp as his girth spreads you apart. You can’t remember the last time you felt a stretch like this. But he pushes it right in. You’re so turned on, it works. You watch his cock disappear into you. You glance up at him to see his mouth hanging open with a sigh of relief as his tip nudges your cervix and makes you whole. He sucks in a deep breath as he retreats, then says “FUCK, that’s a nice cunt.” 

His fingers dig into the plush flesh of your ass and he begins to fuck you. You pull up his shirt and it’s so tight that it stays where you leave it. He has a slutty little hip tattoo that says yeah. His lips latch onto yours as he buries his length in you again and again.  It’s all sucking and biting and hot, humid breath as you moan against each other’s cheeks before your tongues are in each other’s mouths again. The bottom half of your face gets slobbery.  He fucks you like he means it, grunting and moaning, “oh yeah.” Your bodies are dewy where your skin meets. 

You wrap your legs around him. Your pelvis grinds against his and your orgasm is building. You tell him,  “Don’t hold back”

“You want me to last?” He asks as he pumps in and out of you. 

“In here?--ohhhh–time for that later” 

“Oh, you already close, ain’t ya?” he speeds up and his chain bounces with the power of his motions. “Fuck yeah, baby, c’mere, c’,mon” His cock pistons into you. It’s even better than you imagined so many times in your pathetic excuse for a bed. Oh shit, will you really sleep together? The thought of it melts you. The thought of a real bed alone melts you, but with him, with this cock inches away, god this cock, it feels so, it’s so—A primal grunt comes from his chest. His heavy breathing and grinding against your clit have you on the edge ready to tip. 

You whimper, “baby,” pinching your eyes shut. 

He grips your ass harder and grinds his shaved pubic bone into you as he fucks you smooth and fast. He fucks like a porn star. “C’mon, jailbird.” 

He buries his length in you even faster, then pleasure seizes your whole body and you come on his fat cock. 

“Ohhhhh yeah, fuck yeah,” he breathes. 

He thrusts into you a few more times, “fuck, baby,” then bottoms out and erupts. He sighs a long sigh as his warm release coats your insides. 

“Mmmm,” you savor the pulse of his cock and you twitch with aftershocks. “Oh, god.” He hugs you and you rest your head on his chest while you both catch your breath. His chain feels massive on on your cheek.

Someone finally knocks on the door.  He pulls out and helps you down off the sink. 

“Someone in here,” he tells them. He pulls up his pants, then leans against the tile of the bathroom wall as he zips them up and fastens his belt while you change. 

You thank him again for the clothes as you look in the mirror and turn around. 

“Look good on ya. Guess I did alright.” 

His face is flushed pink and his hair is a little messed up.  He seems to notice you looking at his face and he pushes himself off the wall to look in the mirror. He rakes his hand through his hair, then scratches one side of his beard, turning away from the mirror. 

–

You sit down for a late dinner. Neither of you look at the menu. Jojo orders cherry coke and a texas cheesesteak with double hashbrowns covered, smothered, and chunked. You order your favorite meal and he compliments it. Your eyes are on his forearms and tattoos. As he brings the sandwich to his mouth. God damn, how’d this fine ass man practically fall in  your lap? You feel like  you owe Mabel big time. 

You ask, “You really go grocery shoppin’?”

He raises his eyebrows and smiles with his mouth full, nodding.  “Mmm-hmm.” After he finishes chewing he washes it down with a sip of cherry coke, then adds, “but you know what i really want.” He looks at you darkly. “So tell me it’s all you can eat, baby.” 

“Just for you, Jojo. . .”

-----

yeah he wants to be covered and smothered in that.

Thank you so much for reading and engaging. I love your passion and your comments and reblogs really motivate me. <333

----

@toxicfics for notifications, make sure your phone is set to enable push notifications from tumblr.

⚠️ Since so many people are saying tags aren't working, I may discontinue the tag list ⚠️

All Joel:@ethanhoewke @silkiers @eiviea @evyiione @xdaddysprincessxx @queerly-anxious @chernayawidow @ambassadortotrilliusprime @not-a-unique-snowflake-blog @jasminespringtime @romanarose @fandomsfallnomore @djarinxore @blackvelveteen1339 @manazo @wolvesandvampires @taeslarityy @str84pedro @lokanda  @kyloispunk @filthfairy @fieryglutenfreechickennoodles @harriedandharassed @moonlightdivine @worhols @fan-fiction-floozy @cutesyscreenname   @weddingfairy @pedropascal-whore @spideysimpossiblegirl @feministfanboi @gracieispunk @prettypartyfavor @am-3-thyst @babeincolor @milla-frenchy @switchbladedreamz @within-the-depths @am-3-thyst @may-machin @pedromania91 @sloanexx @paleidiot @yourmistysecret @bean-is-reading

[ieatwormsanddirt]

jojo beach boy

[flushferns]

congratulations! the post you put in a fandom tag was actually ignored this time instead of gaining traction! you live another day!

[deathskid]

me only being able to write this fic to a true crime podcast is crazy

[saltydkdan]

hello saltman just letting you know your jojo iceberg videos sucessfully got me back into jojo after taking a break from it for Years and you also managed to convince my boyfriend to watch it .

we've been watching it together, we're on part 4 right now and it's been a blast!! thanks for essentially fueling a fun activity for us, i never would've thought of revisiting with him if it wasn't for the iceberg videos!

LET’S GOOO AAAAAAAA!!!!! That makes me so happy to hear. And I’m glad you guys have a fun new activity to share, I love having those sorts of traditions with my partner too!

I hope I can potentially wrap up that iceberg stuff sooner rather than later. I still have so much info to unpack ☠️

Thanks for the extra motivation, and in general, super fun message in my inbox. Have a good one!

[chainofhyrule]

𝖂𝖊𝖑𝖈𝖔𝖒𝖊 𝖙𝖔 𝖒𝖞 𝖇𝖑𝖔𝖌!

Refer to @chainsofgoldandash for any/all 18+ requests and additional rules Masterlists below the cut

---

Here on Chain, I write largely Links x Reader. Though I can also write non-x/reader if requested or desired. If you choose to interpret it as LU that’s up to you, but PLEASE DO NOT TAG AS LU unless I tag it that way myself

FULL CREDITS to Jojo (Linked Universe) and Nintendo (Legend of Zelda), as well as to other creators to be listed later for other possible series

---

𝔰𝔱𝔞𝔫𝔡𝔞𝔯𝔡 𝔯𝔲𝔩𝔢𝔰

Sorry, but I do NOT accept emergency requests anymore

I do NOT accept asks/stories through submissions - Please go through either DMs or inbox

---

𝔠𝔲𝔯𝔯𝔢𝔫𝔱 𝔞𝔫𝔬𝔫 𝔩𝔦𝔰𝔱:

🦌 anon, 🌻 anon, ☠️ anon, 🥣 anon

𝕸𝖆𝖘𝖙𝖊𝖗𝖑𝖎𝖘𝖙𝖘

First

Sky

Four

Time

Fierce Deity

Legend

Twilight

Wind

Hyrule

Warriors

Wild

The Chain

Other

[honeybleed]

a week away ⋆ kishibe rohan

read part one

synopsis: bizarre going ons whilst rohan navigates his complicated feelings about you on a trip he was vehemently against in the first place.

content & warnings: female reader, she/her pronouns, canonverse, reader is an editor for shueisha, set around thus spoke kishibe rohan (2006) so rohan is twenty seven, reader insert but there are some oc’s, unhealthy relationship dynamics, miscommunication, sort of love triangle, emotionally constipated dumbasses, no smut but kinda suggestive towards the end

authors note: if you get slightly confused, the reader will be purposely left out of the whole jojo lore of arrows and stands so that’s why i won’t get into the full detail of it however us as jojo fans and the canon characters understand it i guess ☠️

word count: 4.6k

As you stood underneath the shower head and let the hot water pour on your skin and wetten your hair, you thumped your head hard against the tiles.

As much as you enjoyed whatever that was back there with Rohan, you knew things weren't going to be simple.

You had an inkling he would go back to being an emotionally constipated jackass sooner or later.

But at the end of the day, that shouldn't be your problem.

You can't control his behaviour. Thoughts mulled in your head as you faced downwards.

Your train of thought came to a halt when you noticed something scurry around in your peripherals. You could've sworn something scuttled out of the drain.

As fear crawled up your spine and made adrenaline rush you tried to rush away but you slipped and collided with such force, the bottles of product on the tub clattered.

It disappeared, leaving you humiliated.

Pain shot through you as you let out an anguished noise and clambered to stand up.

The door immediately swung open and you met with Rohan’s enraged face.

"Why are you making such a commotion?!" Rohan snapped. Your eyes locked as you were stark naked, stood on the rim of the bathtub.

"Something came out of the drain, I swear Rohan! I’m not making it up!" You babbled, words clashing together.

"What? Was it a spider?" He asked, unimpressed as he took a few steps further to get a good look at the drain. He peered at the tub, blinking.

Waiting for something.

Much to no avail. He narrowed his eyes at you.

"I am NOT lying!" You barked.

"I didn't say you were." He responded, swiftly.

He yanked a towel from the rack and passed it to you, which you reached out for a little meekly, mortified at how ridiculous you looked.

Silence fell over the both of you.

"Aren’t you going to leave?" You said a little curtly. His lips were pressed together as he struggled to say what he wanted to say.

"...Are you hurt?" He finally asked, still not meeting your eye.

"I’m fine, I just slipped."

"Idiot." He muttered underneath his breath.

"Hey!"

"Be careful." He said, as he reached out a hand to help you up. You unwillingly grasped his hand.

You massaged your sore sides after you dried yourself and applied lotion. Looking for Rohan but he seemed to be absent from his bed.

You figured he’d be out on the deck again, it was pretty tranquil at night with the dark sky and soft sounds of waves lapping.

Surely enough, he was sat on the decking, legs outstretched.

You settled beside him, slightly wincing from the fall you’d taken back there.

“You’re sure you don’t need medical attention?” He asked, not looking at you.

“I’m fine.” You asserted.

“You are so stubborn.”

“Have you taken a look in the mirror yourself?” You hissed.

“I do. I’m rather fond of my reflection.” He snickered.

“Really? I hadn’t noticed.” You responded “Rohan.”

“Yeah?”

“Would you have always been a manga author?”

“I can’t imagine being anything else.”

“I could.”

“Huh?”

“You’d be a cool creative director. Or fashion designer.”

“You flatter me.” He said with a snicker. “But no. It’s my calling.”

“That must be cool, to know what you’re meant for.”

“Why do you say that?” He questioned, furrowing his brows. “Do you not like being an editor?”

You let out a heavy sigh.

"I never wanted to be a manga editor. It just fell in my lap, I guess." You finally said. You were met with silence which you were grateful for.

"To say you are undeserving of this job, is an insult to yourself. You would have never been assigned to me if you were terrible.”

You blinked.

Well, it wasn't comforting advice but there was a hint of truth in his statement.

As abhorrent as Rohan’s personality could be, he was one of the greatest, renowned manga authors for a reason.

"It is never too late. Who knows? Ten years down the line you could be on a path you've always wanted. You’re unsure now, but it'll come to you one day."

"That was actually really sweet of you, Roban." You replied. "Thank you...I really needed that."

"Not a problem. I despise change and to go through another editor would be an extreme inconvenience."

You bit your tongue, and decided to pretend you hadn't heard it, then got up from where the two of you were sat.

"...I hope ten years you will still be a part of my life." You said, softly.

Rohan simply glanced at you, hand settled on his stomach.

He was sure it had been years since a single sentence from somebody had caused a fluttering sensation in his stomach.

"I’ll see you in the cabin if I’m still awake." You said as you began to head out. "Try do something that doesn't revolve around Pink Dark Boy, okay?"

"Can’t make any promises." He replied, a little dazed from the burst of butterflies from what you said.

-

You were slightly saddened the trip was coming to an end. As much as the events felt like an emotional rollercoaster, you still enjoyed just having a chance to breathe.

No deadlines. No early morning starts. No public transport. No more endless hours trapped in the office feeling as if your life was wasting away.

Of course your job wasn't the conventional office one.

Working for a prestigious and famous publishing company like Shueisha which was something most people would kill for was considered a privilege.

The talk after you and Rohan’s tryst lifted a burden from your shoulders.

Hope existed and like he said, you'd find your calling soon enough.

Something that would make all the depressing things about a job, worth it.

You were alone on the deck, on the nose of the grand cruise ship, overlooking the waters and the sunset.

You whipped your head around when you heard footsteps approach you, and turned to see none other than Ryosuke with a sheepish smile as he gave a shy wave.

Internally shrinking away because you felt a little bad for taking him for a ride when your mind was filled with another.

"This is going to be awkward." You muttered internally.

"Was looking all over the place for you." ryosuke said, a smile tugging on the corner his lips.

"Oh...is there something you need?" You questioned.

It sounded like he wanted to make a move on you and feigning ignorance was the only thing that you wanted to do.

Your heart was set on Rohan, anyways.

He cleared his throat.

"I’d really like to take you out on a date when we get back, if that's possible."

You blinked at him.

"I don't think I could let this chance pass. I barely see you as it is."

"Oh, Ryosuke. Believe me, I’m flattered but I can't-"

"It’s him, isn't it?" He interrupted you, catching you off guard.

"What?"

"Don’t play dumb with me. What? That bastard is a skirt chaser too?" He raged.

What was it with all the manga authors being such babies? You pinched your nose bridge.

"Even if it was Rohan, so?" You questioned. "I suggest you stop before this escalates and I don't talk to you again."

He gave a hollow laugh, turning away from you.

"You should've agreed."

"...What?" You blurted out, voice incredulous.

Suddenly you felt a force, not allowing you to move from where you were stood.

You struggled aimlessly for a few seconds, then whipped your head around to see Ryosuke with a fiendish smile on his face as his eyes darkened.

Nothing like the warm smile you were used to.

"I was only shot with the arrow to hurt Kishibe and anybody important to him but that stuck up bastard barely has loved ones in proximity to him...then you came along." He stated, circling you.

Your eyebrows pinched together, bewildered on the tangent he was going on.

"Hm, you seem clueless. Well I’ll tell you something. That feeling you had that somebody was watching you? It was my stand. I figured I’d play some mind tricks with you and send him a warning. His loss though, he thought you were crazy, didn't he?"

No.

He didn't think you were crazy.

Rohan is smart. He did what you do, and played dumb in an attempt to shield you from these peculiar happenings.

"What’s even the endgame, Ryosuke?" You asked, cautiously. Hoping you could talk him out of whatever he had planned.

"Rohan!" You called out as he stood on the deck, staring at the both of you. "Don’t come any closer!"

“For god’s sake woman, you’re like a foghorn!” He muttered as he made his way towards the two of you, undeterred by your panicked state.

"Watch out!" You cried out as you saw the exact same thing you saw in the tub heading straight towards the both of you.

He shoved you hard but still braced out his arms in a protective stance as his legs planted wide.

"Ugh, what was that for?-"

"HEAVEN'S DOOR!" He called out.

"I knew it! It was that bottom feeder mangaka!" Rohan yelled.

"Rohan." You said through gritted teeth. "This is not the time for a gotcha!"

Ryosuke cursed and yelled at the top of his lungs as he struggled, unable to move.

He fell onto the ground, hard. It was almost as if there was some sort of restraints on his legs and wrists even if it was invisible.

"Curse you, Kishibe. You-"

"Ryosuke, just...relax! Lets talk about it, okay...? It doesn't need to escalate like this. You said you knew I felt as if I was being watched, Right? How-"

"He has a stand, Y/N. Keep up, will you?" Rohan said, curtly.

You frowned and put your hands on your hips.

"Wow Rohan, I’m sure that'd be extremely helpful if I even knew what a stand is." You shot back.

Ryosuke gave up struggling and sighed.

"Since you want to know-"

"We don't." Rohan cut him off.

"We do! Shut up Rohan." You hissed.

"I’ll tell you the story."

1995 and I picked up an issue of Jump. Rave reviews about a series whose author was a mere sixteen years old! But his art style was on the level of a senior artist's.

1999. My own series was picked up. I was invited to a gathering held by Shueisha themselves and I couldn't be happier.

I could finally meet the boy who inspired me to start drawing.

"Soul Moon? Never heard of it. God awful title." Ne said, then turned on his heel and flounced off.

The way he turned his nose up at me. I’d never forget. First, my heart shattered. This was a man I’d idolised for years. It was a goal of mine to even meet him.

Secondly, I’d been so vulnerable with my work. I tapped into my deepest desires and thoughts and brought it into the plot. It was very intimate and as much as I knew that was a risk, I still took it.

It was more insulting from a manga author. A reader? Fine. An editor, that's their job! But a fellow manga author?

"Rohan, this is literally your fault!" You screeched, enraged you were dragged into this pissing contest. "You apologise right now!"

"I don't need his pity!" Ryosuke barked. "It was simply some context for you."

Rohan was unfazed by Ryosuke’s story, he simply cocked a brow with his familiar smug smile.

"You’re still laughing?! I guess that takes away any of the last qualms I had about offing you."

"Ryosuke! Yes, Rohan is a snob but that isn't a reason to murder somebody!" You screamed out, lost at why this was even a statement in the first place.

"Indulge me, Tsuchiya." Rohan said. "How would you, defenceless and immobile, go about murdering me?"

He took out a spare pen from his pocket, and crouched over Ryosuke.

You felt as if there was a heavy weight upon your tongue and your chest was so tight you were beginning to struggle with breathing as Rohan seemed to turn pages within Ryosuke’s face.

Ryosuke's unintelligible babbling and gut wrenching screams of terror were enough to send you into complete panic mode.

And the last thing you saw before you lost your balance and slumped against the railings was Rohan's eerie smile.

-

That was your first experience face-to-face with what Rohan called a stand, and you were given the misfortune of witnessing one as gory and psychologically scarring as Heaven’s Door.

You blearily opened your eyes to see a white ceiling, completely unfamiliar to you.

You tried to focus on something in the room, you could see Rohan sat on a chair.

With a stone-faced expression, your eyes met.

"Is Ryosuke okay?" was the first thing that came out of your mouth.

"I cut off his hands. He won’t be able to draw anymore, that is unless he learns how to draw with his feet or mouth."

"...Oh."

"If you have something to say, just spit it out already. You of all people should know how busy I am."

"You...didn't even show basic compassion when he confronted you." You began, voice faltering. "You didn't even feel bad.."

"Why would I feel sympathy for a man who was going to kill me and used you as bait?" He hissed.

"You are cruel, Rohan. I saw your true colors on that deck. You laughed in that man's face."

Amongst his many talents, Rohan’s poker face was something simply unmatched.

Because as soon as that sentence left your lips he felt his heart shatter into pieces.

But nobody would've been able to tell, what with those steely, cold eyes. His chest was puffed up, and his arms were folded.

He snorted.

"If that's what you truly think, who am I to change your mind?" He said, frostily.

"Well, I’m sure you have other places to be." You hurled back.

"Glad you know." He responded, turning on his heel to march out of the room.

"I got the flowers you asked for-" Izumi’s voice called out in the hallway, at the worst time possible. He snatched the bouquet out of her hands and dumped them in the trash.

Leaving Izumi at a loss for words.

"Well, that was wasteful and not very eco-friendly!" She cried out.

You weren't bed bound for long. You were released quickly once they had run tests and deduced you had simply passed out from shock.

You went home. You saw your friends, and you saw Izumi in the office but she didn't address the elephant in the room (you and Rohan’s fallout) since she figured that was something between the two of you.

You didn't dare go back to Morioh.

And you were dreading your next visit for work purposes.

Maybe that's why such strict rules about employee relationships are enforced in the first place.

Soon enough, the call came and you were meant to set up a meeting with Rohan to discuss his next submission for a one-shot.

You dialled him dozens of times but he was straight up refusing to answer your calls.

After countless ringing, you finally reached a voicemail.

"This is the Kishibe Rohan’s residence. I am most likely creating a masterpiece so I can't take your call. Even if I was free I would not answer. So don’t bother to leave a message.”

You were sure your eyes would be stuck at the back of your head because anything to do with Rohan made you roll your eyes.

"Excuse me, sorry to bother you!" A voice called out behind you. You turned to face a youthful-looking short boy. You immediately recognised him, as he was one of Rohan’s few friends.

"You’re not bothering me at all, what's up?"

"Um, well I guess it's pretty heavy. Can we talk in the café?"

"I guess this is kinda awkward. I hope you don't think I'm meddling in your business or anything!" the boy said a little anxiously as he rubbed the nape of his neck.

"Not at all."

"Well, you are Y/N, right? Rohan sensei's editor?"

You nodded.

"He’s been so off since he came back from that trip the two of you went on! He’s not himself at all. He won't even leave that big old house of his."

You felt some pangs of guilt. You had no idea that what you said would even affect Rohan.

"Koichi? Did it come out of Rohan’s mouth that he was upset because of me?" You said, calmly but it was hard to stop the passive aggressiveness laced in your tone.

"Well, no- but-"

"So I guess this conversation is over." You said abruptly, taking out some notes from your purse to pay for your and Koichi’s beverages and setting it on the table.

"Y/N, wait!" Koichi cried out. "He didn't tell me about what happened over the past week but I know he cares about you! So much so, he asked me for advice! ...and he asked me if he was cruel."

You froze in your steps.

So it was what you said that made Rohan spiral.

Your face scrunched up as you turned on your heel to face Koichi.

"Since when does Kishibe Rohan care about anybody but himself?!" You cried out.

"Y/N, please! I know he's difficult but he does care about you-"

"Why do I have to hear that he cares about me from you?!"

You let out a heavy sigh and shook your head. Why are you debating with somebody young enough to be your sibling about your love life?

"Look, Koichi. Sorry for yelling at you and sorry to get you involved in all of this. You’re a good friend to Rohan." You said, exasperatedly as you balled your fist behind your back. "I’ll...visit him. That’s why I came to Morioh in the first place but I chickened out."

"No worries Y/N...I hope things work out between the two of you." He said, beaming.

After he waved you off, you hesitantly made your way to Rohan’s place.

It was irritating how he managed to triangulate somebody fresh out of college into your nonsense but nothing was a surprise when it came to dealing with Rohan.

You gazed at his house, seeing the lights in his studio were on. If he was drawing then it probably wasn't as urgent as Koichi made it seem.

“You are trespassing on my property.” You heard a familiar voice bark. “Go away.”

“Are we really playing this game, Rohan?” You sighed.

“This is not a game to me!” He exclaimed. “Just leave.”

“You think I wanted to even come down here? But at the end of the day, I have a job to do. So please. Just let me do my job.” You pleaded.

You were met with silence, then locks began to rattle and there stood Rohan, with a sullen look.

He wasn't in his regular fashionable attire which he would spend hours crafting to the tiniest detail. Even his signature headband was missing and his hair which was always styled up was now limp and lifeless.

He had newly formed dark circles against his porcelain skin.

"I don't have anything to show you."

"You may be upset with me but lying? Lying to me? You have drafts, infinite drafts that date back years ago that you could pass off for the next print." You hissed.

"Fine. Two minutes, take my drawings and go."

He made you stand in the foyer, then dumped a box full of drawings into your hands, causing you to lose your balance with its weight.

"Take care." He said, abruptly.

You felt a flurry of rage overtake your senses and immediately dumped the box onto the ground, causing the papers to scatter everywhere.

"Why are you making me the bad guy? Cos I called you cruel? You don't get to do this, Rohan!"

"I'm doing it right now." He spat.

"Grow up! You can't just do whatever you feel like then get mad when somebody tells you as it is. You want people to walk on eggshells for you, how absurd is that?"

"I'm not doing anything wrong here. You were the one who said you didn't want to see me again, I'm simply respecting your wishes."

"My wishes were not for you to lock yourself away. My wishes were not for you to neglect your work, the one thing in this world that you care about-"

"Two." He said.

"...Huh?"

"I...care about my work. And somehow...I found myself beginning to care about you." He hesitated.

You blinked.

The silence pierced through his chest, and he slumped against the wall.

"I can't think straight." He huffed out, angrily clutching the roots of his hair.

"I care about you very much. You're a constant in my life. Being away from you after that trip and thinking we were over shattered my heart." You said voice barely a whisper.

"Well, is it true? Do you think I’m cruel?" He spat.

"...At times. But I guess that's what gets you far in this industry...Rohan I just wanted you to understand how much you hurt Ryosuke. I didn't expect you to forgive him or anything, like you said he was trying to kill you."

He cleared his throat.

"I didn't actually cut off his hands. I just wrote that he was going to be out cold for an hour or two and this prevented him from being able to use his stand to harm you and me. I just said that to scare you."

"ROHAN!" You exclaimed, yanking his arm to drag him to his feet to look at you. "What even goes through your mind to think that was remotely okay?!"

"I thought you knew by now I like to see raw, unfiltered human emotion." He shrugged.

"Not everything is fucking material for your comics! Ugh, you drive me INSANE!" You cried out.

"Your friend Koichi said you weren't yourself. You haven't left the house in days." You stated.

"What’s it to him?" He muttered under his breath.

"That’s what friends do, Rohan."

"And? If it were true, how does it concern you in the slightest?" He snarked.

Your stomach churned slightly.

"Well, it's true."

"Maybe I’m just tired."

"That is such bullshit Rohan and you know it."

He scowled at you, then got up from where he was sat to take a good look at you.

"How bigheaded of you to assume I’m in this pitiful state because of you." He sneered.

"Oh, oh, oh! So you DO agree, you are in a pitiful state!" You exclaimed as you hopped around, pointing at him.

You could go for hours sparring verbally. You’re both like stubborn mules in that sense. But it was better to show you how you feel physically.

After a moment of silence and a death stare from Rohan, you let out a sigh.

You then draped your arms around Rohan's neck and slot your lips against his.

He froze against your move but quickly reciprocated your advance, settling his hands onto your waist and pulling you flush against him.

You’re sure you've kissed Rohan quite a few times. In the beginning, they were gentle and chaste and on your part.

Then on the cruise, the kisses you shared were full of unbridled and all-consuming lust.

This one was overwhelmingly emotional. As he tilted his head to get a better angle to kiss you more deeply, you wanted to cry.

He’d probably die before he apologised but you were on the same wavelength at this very moment.

His lips, his hands roaming your body, it was telling you how broken he was without you. How he felt as if life was at a standstill when there was a possibility you weren't coming back.

As he pulled away to catch his breath from the heated kiss, he swallowed thickly as he gazed into your eyes, taking in the beauty of your features. He gently brushed the hair out of your face.

"Never let me go." You whispered as you laced your fingers with his.

"I won't. For as long as I live." He responded, voice desperate and hoarse. Delving to steal another kiss from your swollen and wet lips.

-

In all honesty, Rohan hadn't felt this much genuine happiness and joy in a long time.

He was speeding down the winding roads, in his convertible. to have you by his side, laughing wildly and the wind in his hair was a moment of true bliss.

He began to slow down as he saw cars in the distance, and you quickly pecked his cheek catching him by surprise.

He rubbed his cheek in awe, as he gave you a gentle smile.

"Hey! Park over there!" You instructed and he obliged. You clambered out of the car to sit on the hood of the car.

"You scratch that and its coming out of your pocket." He warned as he peeked over the door.

"Loosen up." You giggled as you began to crawl on all fours to the window.

"Why don't you sketch me?" You said, quirking a brow. You regularly prompted Rohan to draw you every now and then.

Sometimes he followed through, but a majority of the time he would tell you off.

He pulled out a polaroid camera out of his satchel and got out of the car.

"Smile." He said, in a monotone.

"This is helping you!" You snapped as you began to pose as if you were in a photo shoot.

He shook the polaroid and leaned onto the car hood. You draped your arms around him and wrapped your legs around his torso, your chest flush against his back.

"I look real good, huh?”

You were a lot more chipper. It was due to being in such a honeymoon phase and more notably, you finally left the job of being his editor and were now able to pursue your own dreams.

Your future back then felt so bleak but now all the hope and beginning a new chapter with the man you adored with every fibre of your being illuminated the stormy darkness of your mind and heart.

"It hasn't even developed properly." Rohan muttered, squirming away from you as you tried to bite his ear lobe.

"Oh I know. But I know I look good."

He couldn't adjust to the merry laughs he gave now. He was so used to the snarky and smug ones, having genuine cheerful ones was out of his ball park.

He squeezed your thigh as a retaliation causing you to squeal in surprise.

"Well, I suppose we'd better get going before the sun sets." He stated as he carried you piggyback off of the car hood.

"What’s the rush, you own the place!" You exclaimed.

"Wouldn’t hurt to be so early, and last thing i want is something weird to happen in these terrains." He said a little darkly.

"You’re so morbid." You snorted as you nestled your face into the crook of his neck.

"Comes with the occupation." He responded, quirking a brow.

You turned around in back seat to grab the map, then brandished out the huge, difficult thing.

"Are you sure we're going the right way?" You questioned.

"Y/N please. I think I have an idea where a property I bought would be." Rohan stated, a little offended, lowering the map from your hands as he rolled his eyes.

"Sureeeee." You drawled out.

You tucked the map back where you plucked it from since you were useless with directions, then settled back into the passenger seat.

All of a sudden, you felt Rohan take the sides of your face with his hands and dragged you in for a slow, languid kiss.

It completely caught you off guard so you were extremely flustered not to mention feeling hot and bothered with the slightly obscene groaning he made against your mouth.

"W-what was that for?" You panted, trying to regain your composure, pupils dilated and head dizzy.

He just gave a triumphant smile.

"It's fun knowing I can do that more often."

author’s note: if you read this far thank u sm 🙏🏽 its kinda rushed so sorry for grammatical errors or spelling errors but its the fastest i put out a part two ehehe also i was kinda monologuing zown and its so dialogue heavy since i been binge watching scandal lately. anyways i would appreciate any requests for jojo characters😹 thank you again love u guise 💓 reblogs appreciated!!