Tumgik
#jojo's bizarre adventure x reader
sha-n-dowbannedlol · 17 hours
Text
Jotaro Kujo — kakyoin's amusement
cw: nothing rlly, jotaro kujo is bad at feelings tag
an: inspired by that tiktok audio of when he sees me lol
Tumblr media
Always being on the move with barely any breaks and with enemies at every turn has left Kakyoin with little to no entertainment. Of course, he doesn't mind, even if he's already starting to miss his NES.
Fortunately for the red-head teenager, it seems that the Gods have heard his prayers and have blessed him with a new source of entertainment, exclusive front-row seats that only he is the audience of, said entertainment being the hidden feelings between you and Jotaro.
Well, it's not really hidden—you're both aware of your feelings, just not each other's. And being the only other teenager left, the two of you ran to Kakyoin to rant about your feelings. 
And just the admissions alone was already absolutely amusing.
You were the first to admit your feelings. 
It was still early on the journey, and Kakyoin was tasked to retrieve tickets with Jotaro, but he found that the teen had already gone on without him. Shrugging it off, Kakyoin opted to enjoy his stay and make the most of the hotel amenities instead. 
He found himself in the pool area, and much to his surprise, he caught you in one of the beach chairs on the poolside. Feeling his eyes on you, you wave him over, and he approaches you to sit on the beach chair adjacent to yours. 
It was quiet, and Kakyoin racked his brain for anything to say. Eventually, he opens up the conversation with one of the obscure facts he knows off the top of his head. 
Thankfully, you responded in kind, and the conversation flowed easily from there. Your conversation bounced from one thing to another before eventually, the both of you settled in comfortable silence while laying back on your respective beach chairs. 
It was a bit sudden for Kakyoin, but he'd be lying if he said he was surprised when you suddenly admitted it. 
"I think I like him...." You spoke, suddenly breaking the silence between you and the red-headed teen. Kakyoin glances at you, and he can see you feeling a bit embarrassed to say it out loud. 
"Hm..." Kakyoin hums in response before adding with a noticeable teasing lilt in his voice. "Who? Polnareff?"
"Yes, of course. Because I want a grown man." You respond sarcastically, rolling your eyes as you look at him, watching his lips turn up to an amused smirk. "I'm talking about Mr. Joestar, obviously."
"Right, my mistake." Kakyoin matched your energy, the both of you sharing a chuckle, before he turns to look at you, meeting your gaze. 
"So, Jotaro, huh?" 
Kakyoin's smirk widens at the sudden smitten look on your face just from the mention of the name, and he's 99% positive that you don't even realize it. 
"Yeah..." You sigh, one that reminds him of a hopeless romantic protagonist of romcoms he's seen his parents watch before. "I mean, can you blame me? Going through all these troubles just for his mom? How he jumped to save that kid without hesitation? And that face of his isn't helping."
"Honestly? I can't say I'm surprised." Kakyoin responds to your small rant, his voice soft and comforting. He sees your lips part, looking at him in slight panic, and he cuts you off before you can even speak. 
"Don't worry, your secret is safe with me."
"Thanks, Kakyoin."
"Mhm. Thank you for trusting me with this."
On the other hand, it took Jotaro quite a while before he admitted it—both to himself and to his friend. 
After a long day of fighting the menace that was Steely Dan and a long day of traveling, they ended up in another hotel. As usual, Jotaro and Kakyoin ended up sharing a room, and you ended up getting separated from them with your very own room. 
It was a really long day for both teenagers; both were drained and worn out, with Kakyoin mentally exhausted from exerting the effort to manifest his stand in a much smaller form and Jotaro both mentally and physically drained after all the beating he took earlier in the day. 
"I should've beaten him up more." Jotaro groans from his bed, making Kakyoin turn to look at him, a brow raised. 
"Steely Dan? You ended up hating him that much?" Kakyoin responds before leaning on his elbows, still lying on the bed. "How bad are the things he did to you when we left you with him?"
"That's not the issue. I've already made him pay for what he did to me." Jotaro responds, before shooting up from his bed, removing his hat, and placing it on the shared nightstand between their beds, running a hand through his hair. 
"But...." Jotaro trails off, and Kakyoin sits up on his bed as well, raising his brow even more. 
Jotaro grumbled something under his breath, and Kakyoin could swear he heard your name amongst the words the other teen grumbled. 
Kakyoin repeats your name, and Jotaro faces Kakyoin, his gaze hardened. 
"What about them?" Kakyoin asks curiously. 
"I can't easily forgive him for the shit he did to them."
Kakyoin is quite surprised by his words and how genuine they sound. His gaze darts to his friend's face, his scowl deeper than usual, a vein almost popping on his temple. Jotaro's exhaustion must be making him slip his composure, his emotions taking hold of his exhausted mind. 
"What did he do?" 
"He grabbed them. Right. in front. of. me." Jotaro scowls, his jaw clenched tightly. "Grabbed onto their arm so tightly like they were his."
Kakyoin blinks at that, his eyes widening slightly. No.. that expression on Jotaro's face.. it wasn't annoyance. Not completely...
"Held their chin to make them look at him. His face was so damn close to theirs, I would've punched him right then and there if it wasn't for the old man."
Definitely not annoyance. It's jealousy.
"I could feel Star Platinum just about ready to make him regret being born, and I had to actively hold him back." Jotaro finishes his mini-rant with a deep, annoyed sigh, his eyes darting over to look at Kakyoin. 
It was Jotaro's turn to look confused at the amused grin on Kakyoin's face, a knowing look in his lavender gaze, making Jotaro's brows scrunch in confusion as he looks at his friend. 
"The hell are you smiling about?" Jotaro asks bluntly with a deep scowl, "Didn't you hear a thing I just said?"
"I think you're the one who didn't hear what you just said, Jotaro." Kakyoin responds amusedly, his grin not faltering even under the scrutinizing gaze of Jotaro Kujo. 
"What are you blabbering about?"
"Think back to your words, Jotaro. You're not stupid."
Jotaro paused for a while, running a hand through his already messy hair at his friend's cryptic behavior. He was already exhausted and pissed off; he didn't need any more of Kakyoin's bullshit—still, curiously, Jotaro did as he was asked. 
Kakyoin's amused smile slowly widens along with Jotaro's eyes slowly widening in realization as he plays his own words back in his mind. His surprised gaze turned to look at Kakyoin. 
"Are you suggesting....?" Jotaro trails off with a hiss. "Fuck off."
"I'm not even saying anything."
"Don't think about it. I'd rather eat my socks."
"Oh?"
"Don't look at me like—" Jotaro sighs. "It's not like that,"
"But it is," Kakyoin insists with a raised brow and a smirk, "Isn't it?"
Jotaro didn't even respond this time, looking away from his friend's teasing gaze as his own landed on his bed sheets. Kakyoin could see the dust of pink on the other teen's cheeks the more he remained silent, and that was already enough of a response to him. 
"God fucking damnit." Jotaro curses under his breath at the realization, letting out a deep sigh as he glares at his sheets. Kakyoin remained silent as he let Jotaro think about his newfound feelings. 
Eventually, Jotaro turns his head to look at Kakyoin, the usual calm, cold, neutral look on his face as his ocean gaze stares through his lavender ones. 
"Turn away for a bit." Was all Jotaro said. Confused, Kakyoin did as he was told, turning his back to Jotaro and looking at the wall beside his bed. 
Suddenly, Kakyoin jumps slightly in surprise. 
Jotaro is screaming.
It's muffled, probably by his pillows and his sheets, and it probably wasn't loud enough to be heard outside their room, but loud enough to surprise Kakyoin.
It didn't take long before he heard a deep breath and then silence.
"Good night," Jotaro spoke nonchalantly, and Kakyoin swiftly turned, but Jotaro was already on his side, back turned towards the red-head who was only blinking at him in a mix of amusement and surprise. 
"Also, don't tell anyone about this."
"Aye, aye, captain."
24 notes · View notes
rae-pss · 2 months
Text
masterlist
˗ˏˋ꒰ 💭 ꒱ . . . i've done an exam some hours ago... this is how i cope with the fatality that one was.
˗ˏˋ꒰ 💭 ꒱ . . . the first one uses female pronouns for reader and the word "gf", the second one mentions the word "dick" fro character and is gender neutral for reader.
Tumblr media Tumblr media
lucifer, michael, mammon (whb); lucifer, solomon (om); satoru, suguru, sukuna, toji (jjk); kars, dio, jotaro, (jjba); dazai, nikolai (bsd); alhaitham, wriothesley (genshin); douma, tengen (kny); greed (fmab)
Tumblr media Tumblr media
leraye, mammon, satan (whb); mammon, beelzebub (om); itadori (jjk); josuke, narancia, mista (jjba); bachira, isagi (bblk); atsushi, poe, tanizaki, sigma (bsd); kaeya, venti (genshin); akaza, rengoku (kny); ling (fmab)
Tumblr media
761 notes · View notes
ddarker-dreams · 10 months
Note
Scarlet ribbons but she is the one telling the boys how she thinks they are super pretty/handsome/etc.
(Ps love your writing sm, it cheered me up alot after i had a rough day yesterday uwu)
Tumblr media
WAHH WHAT AN ADORABLE IDEA.... it's what they deserve tbh... my favs from part 5 are like the only people who get to be happy on this blog hrjktmger and i'm so glad that my writing helped cheer you up, i hope that the past few days have been treating you better!!
Reader is referred to as girlfriend here!
[Scarlet Ribbons index]
Tumblr media
Giorno
He gets the cutest blush that he tries to hide by covering his face with his hand and clearing his throat. Passione's Don, who remains unwavering in the face of death, can't handle his beloved heaping praises upon him. No matter how suave he may act, your relationship is his first foray into romance. There's a slight shakiness to his voice when he returns your compliment. It doesn't help that there's this glint in your eye that tells him you'll be using this newfound knowledge to your advantage. He supposes it's only fair, considering his penchant for teasing you whenever possible, but maybe he'll go easy on you after learning how it feels. That isn't to say he dislikes your kind words — more so that the temporary loss in his composure is a strange sensation. Strange, yet not unwelcome.
Bruno
Your serious Capo melts on the spot at such ardent praise — he can feel Cupid's arrow piercing him in real time. He takes a moment to recollect himself, before wondering aloud what brought this on. When you point out that he compliments you all the time without any real reason, he puts his hands up in defense, conceding to your argument. If you're in public, he'll limit his response to a warm thank you. Should you be away from prying eyes, however, he'll pull you into an embrace. It serves a dual purpose. You won't be able to see the pink dusting his cheeks and he gets to wrap you up in his arms. You really are the light of his life, he'll tell you. As unconventional as the lifestyle you both lead is, it's moments like this where he delights in a shred of normalcy.
Fugo
His overactive brain temporarily short circuits. Fugo is the type to blush up to his ears, no matter how vehemently he denies it. This poor guy considers you infinitely out of his league and immediately assumes you broke the espresso machine or something and want to soften the blow by using flattery. He sputters for a few moments before his tongue recalls how to properly form coherent words. He'll downright ask what angle you're trying to use here. He isn't used to receiving compliments without the other person having an end goal in mind. Once it's clear you just felt like letting him know, he takes deep breaths to calm his heart, which he can hear thumping loudly. Fugo then starts saying that objectively speaking, you are far more aesthetically pleasing, and starts lifting off some mathematical terms that fly over your head.
Mista
Mista points at himself and says "Me?" just to make sure he heard you right. This is a big moment for him. It isn't that he doubts your physical attraction to him, but hearing it confirmed out loud in your sweet voice is a real treat. He'll sling an arm around your shoulder and drops the line, "You're not so bad yourself", because he thinks it sounds cool. Mista wants to maintain his laidback air, but when you say stuff like that, his stomach does soumersalts and his hands start sweating. He has this big goofy grin and confident gait the remainder of the day. The one trade off (in his opinion) is that the Pistols start swarming about, insisting that you pay them equal praise. Chaos ensues until you appease their neediness for your validation. It is his soul made manifest, after all.
Narancia
Narancia does a little fist pump and starts cheering internally. Although, if you called him pretty, he might pause and get petulant. He totally exudes machismo, he'll insist. He'll warm up to the compliment eventually, though, but he won't admit it. Regardless, he's hype about it. His energy skyrockets the rest of the day. He's all over you, peppering your face with kisses, picking you up and twirling you around, he's on cloud nine. He considers it his personal mission to shower you in praise and this only reaffirms the creed. He'll go up to random people in public, point at you, and say stuff like, "Isn't she so cute? That's my girlfriend, yeah, that pretty lady over there. Do you see her? Just look at her, she's amazing, the coolest ever, did you know she—" and on and on he'll go.
Abbacchio
Similar to Fugo, he initially assumes that you're trying to butter him up. He'll wryly ask what you intend to cajole him into doing. When you huff and insist that this is a no strings attached compliment, he'll study you, since he knows the many tells that signify you're lying. Upon realizing you're being genuine, he'll grumble a few words of gratitude and leave it at that. Don't let his composure fool you — his heart is pounding away like he's a hormonal teenager again. He will lie awake that night, your words repeating on a loop without his Stand's assistance, floating in this warm and fuzzy sensation. Abbacchio might not be the best with his words, but he swears an oath to compliment you properly the next time he sees you.
608 notes · View notes
Yandere Dio Brando (part 1)
Tumblr media
Dio would be a possessive, manipulative and mentally sadistic yandere.
he would definitely "fall in love" with you just because Jonathan liked you.
This would really be the only reason to begin with.
And in his opinion, that would be perfectly sufficient.
Dio could be REALLY charming at first.
It would be very likely that you would fall for it.
And if you did there would be no way out.
Dio would develop feelings for you slowly.
And he really wouldn't know what to do with them.
Dio really doesn't understand anything about love.
His possessive and jealous side would often come out.
Especially if you said ANYTHING positive about Jonathan.
Actually, Jonathan's name should never be mentioned.
That would be an instant punishment.
And Dio's punishments are nasty.
They would not be visible.
No one would ever notice the toxic nuances in your relationship.
And no one would believe you either.
Dio would seem like the perfect partner.
Maybe he targets the area covered by the clothes.
Like hands, feet, etc.
Or it would be mental…
If you have a dog, be careful.
Sometimes Dio could be bonding.
If you would obey him.
These moments would be rare.
But there would be these.
132 notes · View notes
moonlightpetalz6 · 6 months
Text
Kinktober Day 4 (Stygiophilia)
Tumblr media
Character: Dio Brando x Virgin reader
Reader: Fem Reader
Warnings: NSFW, MDNI, Smut, Unprotected sex, Stygiophilia, harsh language, corruption kink, rough sex, blood, talk of religion, mentions of going to hell, degradation, dacryphilia, loss of virginity, manipulation
Stygiophilia: Arousal to the thought of hellfire and damnation.
Wc: 5,042
A/n: Yeaaaaaah I may or may not have fallen behind with my Kinktober works as this is definitely being posted on Day 5. So sorry about that! Thankfully I made sure to get both Day 4&5 written up! (I just have to edit day 5 before posting) Anyway, I tried to get all the warnings labeled and apologize if I missed anything!
______________________________________________________________
"Young miss, please slow down! A lady must not run!" You heard one of your lady-in-waiting yells after you as you happily ran through the familiar corridors of your home. You were the younger sister of Jonathan Joestar and had been sent away to an all-girls boarding school for the last three years, so you were beyond excited to see your father and older brother. As you reach the front doors to the manor, your eyes light up at the familiar sight of your older brother, a giant smile on his face as he holds his arms out to you, ready to accept your tight embrace. "Brother! I missed you!" You cried while leaping into his arms, causing the older boy to laugh as he held you securely while spinning you around. Your lady-in-waiting finally catches up, placing her hands on her knees as she tries to catch her breath while trying to scold you.
"My dear sister, are you still causing trouble for people? What's the point of sending you to such a high-class school if you refuse to listen!" Jonathan laughs while playfully ruffling your hair. You pout, pushing his hand away as you stick your tongue out playfully, earning another bright smile from the brother you admired with all your heart. "I have so much I wish to talk about! Where is father?!" You cheered, looking around, wishing to tell him your stories. Jonathan frowns as he leads you into the manor by wrapping an arm around your shoulders comfortingly. "Y/n father's condition appears to be getting worse…he is now bedridden." Your eyes go wide in horror as you quickly take off towards your father's room, ignoring your brother's calls for you to wait.
You run up the stairs, shoes slipping off due to your rush, causing you to stumble a bit, but you pay them no mind as you go and push the doors to the room open, not bothering to knock. "Father!" You called tears in your eyes as you looked at the weak figure of your father sitting peacefully in his bed. "Ah, Y/n, my dear, you've come home!" Your father greets you with a small smile before coughing. You rush to his bedside and carefully place your hands on his. "Oh, Father, why didn't you tell me your condition worsened? I would have rushed to your side to help you recover!" Your father only smiles at your words as he gently runs his hand over your hair, comforting your anxious heart.
"That is exactly why I didn't write about it to you. Your studies in becoming a proper lady are far more important than this small illness." He declares, watching as your brows knit together in annoyance. Before you can give any protest to his words, he cuts you off, his gaze averting to one of the corners of the room. "Besides, I had your brothers here to help me. Isn't that right, Dio and Jonathan?" He asks with a soft smile. Your body stiffens at the name of the boy your father had taken into your home. You hated how your father addressed Dio as your brother, for you had never seen or accepted him as anything else but a cruel, uncaring man who took advantage of your father's kind nature. Slowly, you become aware of your father's presence and the other two who stood in the room with you. "That's right, Father. I have ensured to care for him, so you don't need to fret Y/n." Your body shivered, and blood ran cold at the familiar, sickening voice of Dio.
You slowly turn towards where the voice came from, your eyes locked with those dark, cold brown eyes that still torment you years later. “I see…thank you…” You whisper, trailing off as you never knew how to properly converse with the man whose eyes always stared deep into your soul. Dio gives you a smirk as he takes a few steps towards your form. You feel your heart racing with each step, your nerves screaming for you to move or run, but you can't. Thankfully, Jonathan, who had been silently standing by the door this whole time, moves to stand protectively by your side. Dio frowns at this while pretending to look hurt at the two of you. "What is it, Jonathan? I wish to give our dear Y/n a welcoming hug like you and Father." He defends a fake smile on his face as he outstretched his arms to you, expecting your sweet embrace.
You hesitate, eyes trailing to your brother, who looks down at you; worry fills his eyes. You devise an excuse to avoid hugging the man but stop when you feel your father gently squeeze your hands, earning your full attention. "Go on, Y/n! It's rude not to greet everyone, is it not?" You cringe at your father's words, knowing it would only cause problems for his health if you continued to avoid the man, he tried calling son. With a stiff nod, you slowly stand from the side of the bed, hands placed in front of you as you nervously fidget with your fingers and slowly take a few steps toward the much bigger man who looks at you with mischievous eyes. You bite your lip as you shakily bring your arms up for a hug. Dio quickly pulls you close to his chest in an extraordinarily tight and possessive hug.
"Welcome home, Y/n. We've all missed you dearly." You cringe at the fake joy in his voice, knowing it was all an act to get on your father's good side. Dio smirks as he leans his mouth close to your ear, whispering in a tone that no one else could hear. "I don't care how long it takes…you will submit to me." He growls darkly, causing your eyes to widen as you try to pull away from him but fail due to his tight grip. Dio smirks, finding your resistance adorable before his eyes lock with Jonathan, who glared at the two of you, not trusting Dio's intentions after having stumbled upon Dio and you years ago in the manor library. You hadn't done anything as Dio was the one who had you pinned to the bookshelf, his lips pressed angrily to yours. It was a sight Jonathan would never forget as he kept his pure and innocent sister far away from the man.
"I think that's enough, don't you, Dio?" Your brother asked while pulling you away from the blonde's grasp, causing Dio's lip to twitch in annoyance. "Of course, I'm just so excited to see the Joestar's sweet angel return to the manor after so long." He apologized, though you both knew it wasn't sincere. Jonathan frowned before leading you towards the door, stating that he would take you to your room as he assumed you were tired after such a long ride back. You bid goodbye to your father, ignoring Dio, who looked at you with dark and impure eyes. When you leave the room, Dio grits his fists at his side before licking his lip with amusement.
'Still clinging to that brother of yours like he'll be there forever. I'll have my chance my dear just you wait.'
___________
It had been a few weeks since you came back home. Thankfully, you didn't run into Dio much besides when you visited your father, or Jonathan was around to act as your shield. However, to your dismay, your older brother went off to try and find a cure due to your father's worsening condition, leaving you alone and defenseless. "Y/n, my dear, it's getting late. You should go and get some sleep; I'll be fine!" Your father laughed, trying to rid the frown that blemished your features. "But father, how can I sleep?! Your condition is worsening, and your brother has been gone for days without a word! I worry for both of you!" You cry, gripping his hands. Your father smiles before heavily coughing, causing your heart to ache.
"You've always been such a kind and caring girl, Y/n. I know your mother would be so proud to see the pure and elegant girl you've become." His confession shocks you at the mention of your deceased mother. You and Jonathan were half-siblings, neither having met your mothers due to the accident and your mother's illness. You always remembered the staff whispering badly about her because they were so in love with Jonathan's late mother. This left you feeling alone and secluded from everyone until your brother happily reached a handout for you. Since childhood, you made it a point to be a good and obedient daughter and sister to your family, not wanting to cause any problems. Of course, you would lie if you said being a good girl was easy.
"Now, give me your perfect smile before I get some rest!" Your father cheered, snapping you from your thoughts. You let out a small sigh before putting on that bright smile everyone seemed to love so much. With an approving nod, your father bids you goodnight as you silently walk back to your corridors. 'But I don't want to smile right now, father…I want to scream and cry…I want to feel sadness and anger. I want to scream at the heavens for cursing our family with such traffic fates.' You are shocked by the last thought as you quickly shake your head and slap your cheeks as you enter your room. "Don't think like that, Y/n! It's not good to think such things." You scold yourself as you lock the door before changing into one of your nightgowns.
"Oh? Do tell what things our angel might be thinking?" Your heart sinks to the pit of your stomach at the sudden voice lurking in the corner of your room. You slowly turn to see Dio perched against your wall, his eyes shining from the moon's light. "D-Dio?! What are you doing in my room?!" You yelled, taking a step back as you glanced towards your door. Dio followed your eyes just as fast, a dark smirk coming to his lips as he let out an amused chuckle, carefully pushing himself away from the wall. "Father has been voicing concerns about you since Jonathan left. So, I thought I would do him a favor and keep you company." He excused himself as he made his way between you and the door. Your eyes narrow with his word choice as you clench your fists at your sides.
"Don't address him like that when we both know you don't see the Joestar home as a family." You declared feeling yourself growing angry at the situation. Dio looks at you with an emotion flashing past his eyes, one you don't recognize due to the room's darkness. He lets out an amused chuckle while running a hand through his hair, his face falling to one of annoyance, eyes darker than usual as he looks down at you, clicking his tongue. "I see that annoying eye of yours is still as sharp as ever, brat." He spat, finally showing his true colors like when he first arrived in your lives. "Though you must admit I've become a great actor." He joked. Before you could react, Dio's form was looming over yours. His eyes narrowed as he roughly took your wrist, holding it up towards his chest as he glared at you.
"Since we're on the topic…why don't you drop that pure angel act of yours?" Dio watched as your usually bright hues darkened all light, leaving them as you looked at him with a frown. "I do not like what you are insinuating Dio. Now, I must ask you to leave my room." You demanded your words cold as ice, holding no warmth for the man before you. Dio felt his chest puff with pride and joy as he got to see this expression for a second time. He remembers first seeing the dark look in your eyes when he stumbled upon you in the library years ago. The way you stared coldly at the books before you, not a single sight of joy to be seen. It excited him knowing that there was a darker side to the Joestars family within the girl whom everyone always spoke so purely of. He wanted to see more of it, more of the girl whose life has been dedicated to portraying a false sense of joy.
"There it is…" Dio whispered, his grip on your wrist tightening as he went and threw you onto the bed, causing a small gasp to leave your lips as you fell onto the soft surface. As you tried to get up, Dio sat on top of you, his legs trapping your smaller form as he gripped your wrists above your head, his face inches from yours as he looked at you with a sadistic grin on his face. The lack of distance allowed you to examine Dio's features closely. You couldn't deny that he was an attractive man and that you had once found yourself crushing on him, but due to his sick personality, you tried pushing the thought deep into the back of your mind.
"Tell me, does being so good to those who hate you get tiresome?" He asked, watching as your eyes widened in surprise. "What? Did you think I wouldn't notice how the staff treated you over the years? How they look at you with detest." Dio mocked his free hand, going to grab your chin, making it so you could not ignore him. You grit your teeth, anger filling your body as he mocked your hard work to be the perfect girl for your family, all the nights you spent wishing to be accepted by everyone. He would welcome you. To him, you were something to treasure and keep close to; he wanted all of it for himself.
"Dio, let me go this instant! I won't let you make a fool of me!" You yelled while trying to escape his grasp. Dio hummed, amused, as he leaned closer to your face, his lips inches away. "You're so cute; begging like anything could get you out of this." he mused before placing his lips roughly against your own. Your eyes went wide, remembering the last time this happened. How aggressive he was with you, the look in his eyes like a predator wanting to claim what's his. You whine into the kiss, your body reacting in a strange way as you feel a wave of heat rush to your skin. Dio hums, pulling away from the kiss as he watches the saliva still connecting you start to thin. "It must be so exhausting…being an angel." He confesses while carefully sliding his thumb across your bruising lips. He watches your face show surprise at his words, internally grinning as he finds your weak spot.
"Tell me…what was it you were thinking earlier, angel? Was it something impure?" He hoped his words were right as he watched your eyes shift away. You said nothing as you tried processing everything at once. Your silence annoyed Dio as he went and slid his tongue down your neck, his ears taking in your surprised gasp as you tried to squirm away, your legs pressing together. "Does the Joestars' pure and innocent child actually have a filthy mind?" He teased as he went and bit down on your soft spot, feeling himself grow excited when a moan slipped past your lips. "N-no! It's not like that! I don't think that way!" You pleaded, the feeling of his lips sucking on your skin, causing your cheeks to heat up as a strange tingling begins in your lower half. "Oh? Then tell me, if not that, then what? What could be plaguing that innocent mind of yours?" He coos his grip on your wrist tightening as his head moves towards your chest.
Your eyes widened as your heart started speeding up when you realized what he was planning. "It was only for a moment! I cursed the heavens, but I was wrong!" You confessed, hoping it would allow you to catch Dio off guard. However, your words caused something to snap inside Dio's mind as he looked down at you surprised, his heart rate rising as he felt his pants start to feel tighter as he took in your words. "Cursing the heavens? Isn't that a grave sin with you people who worship that God of yours?" He asks, unable to stop the growing smirk, his eyes glossing over with lust as he takes in how pure you looked trapped under him in that white nightgown that fit you perfectly. Your cheeks are deep red due to the unknown feelings starting up within.
"Tell me, angel…has a man ever touched you?" His question causes you to fume with embarrassment as you look away from him, not wanting to answer such a vulgar question. "H-How could you say such filthy things?!" You cried your mind spinning from the situation. Dio's eyes narrowed as he licked his lips, his hand releasing your wrists, catching you by surprise as you looked up at him with confusion. "So, this body is still pure?" He asks with a voice filled with amusement as he trails his hands from your shoulders down to your breasts, roughly massaging them over your precious nightgown. Your eyes widen as you quickly slap a hand over your mouth, muffling the moans that escape from the unknown feeling.
"Is it good when I touch you here? Or maybe here?" he muses, going and grinding against you, the bulge in his pants becoming evident as he finds himself tainting the pure body of Jonathan's most precious treasure. You bite your lip, trying to hold back the sinful sounds that tug at your throat. "N-no, stop it…AH!" Your back arches when Dio suddenly pulls the nightgown down, exposing your breasts to the cool air sending a chill throughout your body. Dio chuckles as he taunts you, clicking his tongue as he shakes his head. "This isn't good…for such a pure body; it sure is acting filthy to my touch." He sighed as he took the perked buds between his thumbs and index fingers, making sure to pinch and pull at them, watching as your body reacted innocently to his actions. "I-I's not my fault!" You tried to defend yourself, though you couldn't help but rub your legs together at his words. 'What's happening? Why am I getting so worked up?' You thought, not understanding your body at all.
"This body is untrained…safe from the fires of Satan." Dio starts before repositioning himself so that he can slide his hand under your nightgown, his fingers ghosting over the dampening fabric as he latches onto one of the perked buds, making sure to sink his teeth into the soft flesh, listening as you let out a loud cry your hands going to grip at his blonde strands. "S-stop! This is wrong!" You pleaded, though your mind couldn't help but betray you as multiple lewd thoughts started plaguing your mind, causing the spot between your thighs to spread against the thin fabric. Dio ignored you as his fingers went and started poking at your panties, chuckling when your thighs squeezed his hand.
"Careful, Y/n," Dio started as he pulled away from the mound of flesh with a pop, his tongue lapping at the hard bud with a dark smirk on his face as he looked up to see your lustful expression. He feels his bulge twitch as he presses his fingers past your panties, sliding them up and down your wet folds. "If you're too loud, everyone will know the sinful act you're committing. Do you want your father to know his angel is falling?" Dio laughed, finding his actions to be a rush as one finger pressed down on your clit, causing your eyes to roll back as you covered your lips with both hands, body shaking. Dio watches his sadistic grin, reaching his eyes that are wide with amusement as he lets out another booming laugh.
"Did you just cum Y/n? What a fucking slut." He growled as he twirled a finger around your freshly dripping hole, refusing to take his eyes away from yours as he watched you come down from your high. "I want you to listen to this, Y/n. Listen to how sinful your pussy is for me right now." He mumbled before slipping a digit inside. You whine in discomfort at the sudden intrusion, tears pricking your eyes from the feeling of Dio's thick finger roughly thrusting in and out of you. "Heh, does it hurt angel? Does having my finger inside this once untouched pussy feel strange?" His words are cruel as he watches your body, once pure and untouched, slowly form into an obedient toy just for him. "D-Dio…" Your words cut off as he slaps a hand over your face, eyes narrowed as he growls against your ear, his finger moving faster as you moan into his palm. "Shut up and listen, angel." He growls before adding another finger to stretch your tight walls further. "Do you hear that Y/n?" He questions while biting your earlobe, giving it a slight pull. You listen, your juices echoing off the walls of the dark room, filling your ears as Dio continues to invade you with his fingers.
"Listen to your sin, darling~" He sings, going to curl the tips of his fingers, causing a deep rumble in your throat as you look up at him, eyes no longer holding any innocent emotions as you allow your mind to be consumed by lust. You can't think straight as you go and stick your tongue out against his palm, the wet muscle licking against his rough skin, causing Dio to lick his lips as a low growl escapes his throat. "Filthy fucking girl. You're nothing but a sinful whore." He spat, looking down at you with disgust, but really, it drove him crazy. He was ruining you, the girl who always held such a beautiful smile, eyes shining so bright with love and joy now dimmed and corrupted, all thanks to him. No one else could ruin you like he was going to. He feels your walls spasm against his fingers, indicating you have orgasmed for the second time.
Dio pulls his fingers out, putting them inches from your face as he wiggles them around, allowing you to see how your juices coated them. "Look at them, Y/n. Your slutty juices are everywhere." He laughs before pulling down your panties as he goes and removes his clothing. You don't say anything as you lay there eyes half-lidded as you try to recover from all the pleasure flooding your mind. Dio notices your dazed-out expression, causing him to frown as he goes and smacks your cheek, causing your gaze to fall on him. "Don't you dare clock out on me now, you brat." He growls, going and spreading your legs wide enough for him to take in just how wet your pussy was. "Fuck so filthy, Y/n." He growls while giving his cock a few pumps, precum leaking from the slit.
You stare at him, trying to process what his next move is going to be. Dio smirked as he went and slid the tip between your folds, his cock becoming drenched from your messy pussy. It soon clicks what he plans on doing, and you look at him, panic written across your face. "N-No! You can't!" You cry, trying to move away from his giant figure. Dio scoffs as he roughly grabs you by the hips, pulling you back into place as his tip pokes at your entrance. He cups your cheek, eyes filled with a dark desire as he takes in your fearful expression, the tears in your eyes making him want to fuck you until they can't produce anymore. "Look at me, Y/n." He demands, watching as you obediently do as told, making him relish in his control over your once pure mind, now filled with corrupt thoughts of him. All him.
"I want to see you fall to hell with me, angel." His words were severe, eyes not leaving yours. You felt your chest tighten as his words caused your pussy to twitch. "Fall…to hell?" You whispered as if in a trance. Dio smirks, leaning his body over yours as he kisses the tears from your face. "Yes, my dear~ The two of us will be bound together for all eternity, our bodies burning from the flames of our sins~" He growled, pressing his lips to yours in a possessive and needy kiss. You whimper slowly opening your mouth to allow his tongue entry as he hungrily searched every corner of your mouth. "So, fall with me, angel…fall from the heavenly pedestal your family has placed you on and be damned to hell with just me by your side." He moaned into the kiss before pressing his cock into your virgin pussy.
Your eyes bulge from the intense pain as you grip Dio's biceps, your nails digging into his skin, drawing small amounts of blood, tears running down your cheeks as you cry into the kiss. Dio growls, eyes squeezing shut from how tight you were, his dick throbbing at the fact he was taking your virginity from you. Your pure body now destroyed by his corrupt one. He relishes that you will never be able to join your loved ones in heaven. You were all his forever. "I-it hurts!" You cry when he pulls away from the kiss. Your lips were bruised and swollen, eyes puffy and filled with tears as your cheeks flushed red and your body trembled. You were ruined, absolutely destroyed, and he loved it. "That's right, angel…feel all that pain, isn't it freeing?" Dio purred before moving his hips. You whine from the pain, wanting it to go away as you reach a handout towards him.
Dio snatched your hand, bringing it to his face as he inhaled your scent before locking eyes with you as he sunk his teeth into your flesh, watching you flinch as his thrusts became more aggressive. "Mmh~ Dio, your cock hurts! Please take it out!" You whine, though it falters when the pain turns into pleasure. "It's dirty! So dirty!" You cry, your legs wrapping around his waist and pushing him closer to you, causing his cock to go even deeper inside your impure pussy. You moan tossing your head back, mouth hanging open as drool falls from your chin. Dio watches you with an evil grin as he roughly grabs your hips, sure to leave bruises later. "That's right, angel fall with me! Join me in a world full of sin where just the two of us can rule!" He moans out, loving that he was destroying you. The girl he's had eyes on for seven years was not being roughly fucked underneath him.
You moan too fucked out to care who heard you anymore as you think of what awaits you once you are to leave this world. "I'm going to burn in hell, Dio~ my pussy is being fucked by a man I'm not married to!" You moaned out, unable to hold back your thoughts as a smile formed on your face from the idea of burning in the hot flames. Dio curses as his gaze travels down to where his cock disappeared inside you, his eyes narrowing when he sees the blood mixed with your juices leaking from his shaft down onto your once clean sheets. "He leans forwards, capturing one of your hands in his as he pounds into your abused pussy deep pants, leaving his lips as he takes you all in with his eyes. "Fall with me, angel…do you like that? The thought of being burned by hell's flames? Your pussy is sucking my dick so good, darling~" Dio coos as he kisses your neck, leaving marks wherever he can.
Your body shutters at the thought eyes in the back of your head, a giant smile on your face as you imagine your body being burned for the pleasure you were receiving in this life. Dio looks down at you, his heart racing about how you reacted to his words and actions. He loved that you were finally showing your true self to the you who worked so hard to be so suitable for everyone. Now you were good for just him. "Think about it, Y/n. You no longer have to please those worthless staff who treated you like the devil…because now you're my beautiful fallen angel…my sinful darling~" Dio growled, his cock twitching as he felt himself reaching his limit. You say nothing as you cry and moan, your stomach tightening for the third time.
'That's right… I'm no longer their angel…I can finally be free from this suffocating cage.' You thought tears formed in your eyes as they slid down the damn skin onto your messy sheets. "You'll be so beautiful screaming in agony~" Dio confesses the thought causing him to curse as his cock swelled inside you, his throat tightening as a vein popped out. "Fuck… I'm going to cum inside your filthy pussy Y/n!" He laughed, his thrusts becoming sloppy. You whined as he went and tossed your legs over his shoulders, the new position causing him to press against your womb. Your eyes went wide as you felt something inside you snap your juices spraying all over Dio's cock as a puddle stained the sheets. Your vision went white, no sound leaving your lips as your body violently shook.
Dio laughs like crazy after witnessing you squirt all over him, his voice echoing throughout the room. "Hahaha! Sorry JoJo! Looks like I've turned your precious little sister into such a sinful devil fit just for my cock~" He laughs manically before gripping your face with one hand as he looks at you with that sadistic look back on his face. He feels himself reach his limit as he cums deep inside your pussy, his cum filling you up.
"Look at me Y/n. I want to see you fall to hell with me darling~"
272 notes · View notes
lliminall · 1 year
Text
carino
[giorno giovanna/reader]
Tumblr media
word count: 6.9k
tags: fem reader, NSFW (minors do not interact), giorno being smitten with you, fingering, teasing, giorno is older than you by about 10 years, sappy sweet sex for the birthday boy. giorno is charming but he’s also a bit of an intense weirdo and I wish we would talk about that more
Tumblr media
It occurs to you, as your shoulder is clipped for the third time this night and you almost spill your drink again, that you should learn to get more comfortable with saying the word no.
No, Chiara, I don’t want to go clubbing with you tonight. No, I’m tired and I’ve got work in the morning and I’m really not that thrilled at the thought of spending my Sunday night surrounded by people several tax brackets above me.
Ah, but as your drink sloshes in your glass and you bite back a sharp fuck, Chiara leans against you and laughs wholeheartedly, and you remember why you can’t ever seem to deny her anything. For all the trouble she gets you into, she’s your friend.
And she’s got a credit card with her dad’s name on it that she whips out every time she drags you to these upscale venues. That certainly helps.
“God, your clumsy tonight,” she laughs. “I told you not to wear those shoes.”
“What, and ruin this outfit with my sneakers?” you say, gesturing to your dress and heels. Around you people mingle and dance, wearing clothes from brands you see in fashion magazines. And here you are among them, in your bargain rack best.
“True,” Chiara concedes. “Well. At least you look pretty.”
Before you can thank her, her eyes blow wide and her shoulders go rigid as she catches sight of something behind you.
“Oh, god,” she says with dread, and you follow her line of sight to see none other than her father, seated at a table on the balcony overlooking the floor. She gasps.
“Oh, god,” she says, with even more dread, as her father catches sight of her and waves her over. She whips around to face you.
“Shit. I didn’t know he was going to be here,” she whispers.
“I mean, I guess old men are allowed to have fun, too,” you tease.
“No,” she hisses. “That’s not what he’s here for. Don’t you see who he’s sitting with?”
You peer over her shoulder to look at his table again. Through the crowd you can just make out bits and pieces of men in fine suits, a man in a bright red hat, and…someone else. Someone who certainly stands out from the rest with his long blonde curls and the low cut of his pink suit. The set of his shoulders and the hard line of his gaze as he converses with the man in the hat communicates clearly that he is someone important. Someone who’s used to being treated as important.
“The blonde?” you ask.
“The blonde?” Chiara repeats, incredulous. “The blonde? You don’t know who that is?”
You tilt your head at her. “Uhm, should I?”
She stares at you for a moment, thinking.
“Right,” she says. “I forget that you’re not…well. I guess you wouldn’t know. Just, uh, be polite. Really polite. Like you’re talking to the president.”
She takes your hand and begins to tug you to the stairs.
“Sorry, what?” you hiss. “Who’s up there?”
“It doesn’t matter,” she says quickly. “Don’t worry about it, we’ll just go up and say hi to my dad and leave.”
“Don’t worry about it?” you argue as she drags you up the stairs. “You can’t make a huge deal out of it and then tell me not to-“ your voice trails off as you realize you’re coming within earshot of the table, and Chiara’s face breaks into a grin as her father waves the both of you over.
“Ah, mia principessa,” he greets her as she leans over his chair to kiss his cheek. “How fortunate to see you here. You never visit your poor father these days.”
“Papá, I told you I’ve been busy,” Chiara groans.
Her father says your name warmly, and offers his hand for you to take. In the few times you’ve met him, Signore Alessi has only ever been kind to you. “A pleasure to see you, as always. I trust you’re keeping my daughter in line?”
“Trying to,” you say, letting him clasp your hand in his. “You know how it goes.”
“Indeed I do,” he says, and motions to two men who immediately pull out a chair for each of you.
“Oh, we don’t want to interrupt,” Chiara says, and tries to wave one of the men away.
“Nonsense,” her father replies. “I was just telling Don Giovanna about you, anyway.”
Chiara laughs nervously and takes her seat. You follow suit.
The seat you’re offered places you next to Chiara, and across from the man with the red hat. At the head of table, beside him, is who you assume is Don Giovanna.
“He had only the best to say of you,” Don Giovanna says with a low smile. Signore Alessi couldn’t look more pleased, and it occurs to you that this man, although younger than him, is clearly the one with the most influence at this table. The honorific title of Don only confirms that he’s someone of great social standing here. Your gut twists uncomfortably with anxiety; Chiara really has brought you out of your league with this one.
“Your father tells me you’re studying sociology?” Don Giovanna continues.
“Ah, yes,” Chiara stutters quickly.
“What would you like to do with it?”
“Social work,” she answers.
Don Giovanna nods his head. “That’s an admirable goal,” he says. “We could certainly use more compassionate workers in the social services.”
And because Chiara is apparently uncomfortable with the amount of attention on her, and because you’re the most convenient victim, she says, “thank you, Don Giovanna, but really I only chose to do it because of my friend.”
She motions to you, and the Don’s eyes, and every other pair of eyes at the table, move to watch you.
“She’s always there for me, even when I don’t deserve it, and she’s the kindest person I know. I just want to be able to become that kind of person for others.”
You think you could cry at hearing such genuine praise, if you couldn’t feel Chiara nudging your heel under the table to shake you out of your headspace. The table full of important men is awaiting your response (and, conveniently, no longer pinning that attention on Chiara).
You don’t know what to say. How do you even respond to such high praise? You don’t know what to say but you need to say something. Anything.
“Oh, uhm. Fuck.”
Ok, well. Anything but that.
The table bursts into laughter. Chiara covers her mouth and snorts as her father claps his hand to his chest in a full belly laugh. The man in the hat cracks the first grin you’ve seen from him yet, and even the Don is stifling a low smile. You don’t know whether you should be relieved or even more embarrassed.
“(Y/n) has been a wonderful friend to my girl,” Signore Alessi says, saving you from having to recover yourself with a response. “I’m grateful that my daughter has such a good influence in her life.”
As Signore Alessi goes on, gracefully rescuing you with a change of subject, the man in the hat catches your attention.
“Is that an accent I’m hearing?” he asks.
“That obvious?” you say sheepishly. “Yeah, I moved here a couple of years ago.”
“Your Italian’s very good, but I can always clock a foreigner,” he says. “And I’m also guessing this isn’t the type of place you usually hang out in.”
God, you’re going to kick Chiara for this later.
“Uh, no. I mean yes, you’re right. This wasn’t exactly my first choice for tonight.”
“Ooh, well don’t tell my boss that,” he says with a teasing lilt, nodding his head towards Don Giovanna, who is listening attentively to whatever story Signore Alessi is in the middle of. “He kind of owns the place.”
Beside you, Chiara sighs. “What she means to say is that she’s a homebody who doesn’t know how to party. Of course the club is lovely.” She kicks you under the table.
“Hey, no shame in that,” the man says. “Between you and me, I’d rather be at home with a beer right now, but duty calls.”
“Oh, are you in real estate like Signore Alessi?” you ask. The man stares at you for a beat. Chiara shifts in her seat beside you.
“Yeah,” he answers at last. “Real estate. We were just meeting about uh, property and shit, you know how it goes. Boring stuff.”
As Chiara is folding and unfolding her hands, you notice that her eyes have flicked to the Don, and you also notice, in your peripheral, that the Don’s eyes have flicked to you. There’s a sense that something is going over your head here, like being on the outside of a joke everyone else is in on, but as soon as the feeling appears the man in front of you is speaking again.
“Anyway! I haven’t even introduced myself. The name’s Mista.”
You offer him your own name, and he orders drinks for you and Chiara, insisting that you stay and chat with everyone. Their meeting has wrapped up anyway, and he would never turn down the company of two pretty girls, he explains.
Mista is easy to talk to. Easygoing and genial, he quickly has you relaxing into a friendly conversation. Your anxiety from before melts away as you tell him about your home country, about the ridiculous situations Chiara has dragged you into (which she responds to with a groan), and as he answers with a laugh and a funny story of his own. You are so wrapped up in conversation with them, that you pay no attention to the eyes watching you quietly from further down the table.
You’re laughing with a half-empty glass in your hand when Chiara tugs on your wrist and excuses you both from the table for a moment.
“Oh my god. He’s checking you out,” she whispers as she pulls you into the bathroom.
“Mista?” you ask, feeling your cheeks warm. “I mean, he’s sweet but-“
“No!” she interrupts, and leans into your space conspiratorially. “The Don.”
Hah. The Don.
“Ok. Sure,” you say.
“I’m not joking,” she says. “God, you’re so clueless. He’s been watching you this whole time.”
“I haven’t even spoken to him,” you say. “And he’s like, 10 years older than us, at least. And rich.”
“And he was watching you,” Chiara huffs. She says your name lowly and levels you with a stare. “I know these things. Remember the last time I caught someone checking you out?”
“The guy who showed up to our date with an ankle monitor on?”
“God, that’s not the point. I told you he was flirting and I was right.”
Sensing that this conversation is not about to go anywhere else, you concede with a halfhearted “ok” and push the door open to leave.
You push the door open into the Don’s face.
He catches it smoothly with one large hand and doesn’t flinch as you squawk.
“Sorry! I didn’t see you there,” you squeak.
“No worries, Signorina,” he says. In the small space of the hallway, you notice that his voice is rich, masculine, smooth. “Is everything all right? Your friend seemed to be in a hurry.” Has he sounded like that all night? Has he been looking at you like that all night?
The hallway to the bathrooms is small, and the the placement of his hand on the door has his arm and body hovering over you in a way that’s almost…intimate. You notice, not for the first time that night, that Giorno is handsome. Very handsome. You decide that you’re reading into things too much because this isn’t a romance novel and things like this don’t happen to you, of course.
“Everything’s fine,” you answer, looking over your shoulder to see that the bathroom behind you is empty, which means that Chiara has hidden herself in one of the stalls.
“My friend was just”-you think of telling him she has a headache, and then remember how embarrassed she made you earlier-“throwing up. A lot. I told her she should have eaten something before coming out and drinking.”
Giorno’s brows pinch in concern. “Ah. Is she…all right? I would be happy to call someone over to check on her.”
“Nope,” you answer. “She’ll be fine as soon as she gets it all out. Last time we went out clubbing it took-“
“Actually!” Chiara’s voice rings out behind you, the stall door flying open with a thud. “I think I’m sick, because I can handle my alcohol just fine, actually, so I’d like you to take me home now, please?”
She sidles up beside you and pinches your side, politely excusing the both of you from the Don as you say “ow.” He makes a face somewhere between quizzical and amused as you’re dragged back to the table for Chiara to kiss her father on the cheek and tell him goodbye.
“So good to see you, principessa,” he says, and turns to you. “Tell her to come visit her poor father sometime, and bring yourself along while you’re at it.”
You smile. “Of course, Signore.”
It seems that the rest of the table is ready to call it a night as well, as Signore Alessi and the others stand and begin to give their goodbyes. You down the rest of your drink quickly, finishing just in time to see that Don Giovanna has come back to the balcony—and that his eyes are on you again, for the second before Signore Alessi is calling for his attention.
You decide that you should leave before he can ask about your poor, sick friend again.
The wash of cool air is more than welcome as you step out of the building and into the street. Your skin must have been flushed for half the night, between the embarrassment, the laughter, the drinks, and…whatever that was with the Don.
“Thank god that’s over,” Chiara sighs beside you, whipping her phone out to call an Uber. “I’m remembering why I always skipped out on dad’s dinners when I was a kid.”
“Oh, I didn’t think they were that bad,” you say. “Especially for a bunch of middle aged-“
The door swings open behind you, and Mista strolls out alone.
“Good, I caught you before you took off,” he says. He nods at Chiara and then looks at you expectantly. “I’ve got a little favor to ask. Could I get your number?”
Oh. Oh no. Mista seems sweet, really, but-
“For my boss.”
Oh. Oh.
Over Mista’s shoulder, you see Chiara’s mouth fall open as she holds herself back from giving you an immediate “I told you so.”
Don Giovanna wants your number. The Don wants your number. You have to be misreading this. Maybe he’s just got an open position for an intern that needs filling. Maybe he’s just very polite and wants to check up on your supposedly nauseous friend later.
“He would’ve asked you himself, but he got a little wrapped up, as you saw,” Mista goes on with a laugh.
“Yeah, sure,” you say before your brain can catch up to your mouth. You enter your number into a phone Mista hands you, and he turns to enter the building again as your Uber pulls up to the curb.
“He’ll probably call you sometime tomorrow,” he says with a wave. “Great meeting you guys. Ciao!”
You watch the door click shut behind him. Chiara is going to be so obnoxious about this. You dive into the car before you can see how smug her expression is and look very pointedly out the window. Incredibly, she says nothing as the driver pulls up to her apartment just a few blocks away, and the both of you trudge through the lobby, into the elevator, and through the doors to her apartment. You’re tugging your dress over your head to change into your pajamas when she finally speaks.
“I’m booking you an appointment with my Brazilian waxer,” she says.
You would smack her with a pillow, if you didn’t know that she was also offering to pay. And with the way your nerves are already beginning to act up, it’s an offer you may want to take her up on.
The next weekend, Chiara comes over to help you get ready for your date by laying in bed and watching while you put your makeup on and offering such useful suggestions as “are you sure you don’t want my push-up bra? I would want a push-up bra.”
You don’t bother to respond, because you think your boobs look fine in the mirror, and because you still can’t make yourself believe this date will end up in that direction anyway. Giorno, as he asked you to call him, had been nothing but polite over his texts to you. Brief, formal, but polite.
He did specifically call it a date, which defeated your theory of a job offering, but it all still feels so…unbelievable.
“I still can’t believe this is happening,” Chiara says, as if reading your thoughts. “I mean, of course he’s into you, because you’re beautiful and smart and nice, but-“ she sighs. “God. You have no idea how big this guy is. This is so insane.”
“What, is he the prime minister’s landlord?” you laugh. “I can handle some big-shot real estate mogul.”
Chiara looks at you the way she might look at a dog with three legs. Sweet, but pitiful.
“You are so, so clueless,” she says. “You should probably stay that way.”
You don’t have time to wonder what the fuck she’s talking about, because your phone pings with a text from Giorno. He’s pulling up to your apartment complex.
It’s drizzling as you push past the doors of your apartment building. You didn’t think to bring an umbrella down, you hope this doesn’t smudge your makeup—and the worms have already begun to wriggle onto the sidewalk.
Poor things. The skies will be cleared up and the sidewalk will be bone dry again in just a couple of hours. They don’t even know that they’re about to die slowly and horribly.
It’s just as you’re picking up the last one that you hear a car pull up to the curb behind you. You pray that it isn’t Giorno, come just in time to see you crouched in a puddle with a worm between your fingers, but you can’t imagine that anyone else in this grubby apartment block would be driving a Ferrari. He steps out just as you’re placing the little guy into a soft patch of grass.
“Buonasera,” he greets you as he takes in the scene. Your hands are dripping with mud water and worm slime, and suddenly you’re very worried about getting dirt in this car that probably cost more than you’ll make in years.
“Buonasera,” you say. “I was just, um. The worms-“ you trail off as you realize you don’t have an explanation that doesn’t make you feel a bit silly, but Giorno’s face breaks into a soft smile. He produces a handkerchief from his pocket and takes your dirty hands in his.
“I can see that,” he says, rubbing your hands gently between the fabric, brushing it between each finger and over every knuckle. His hands are warm. Your skin is clammy. “I’m sure they appreciate the effort.”
He opens the passenger door for you and escorts you in with a hand on your arm, and your cheeks begin to warm with that familiar heat.
The restaurant he brings you to is easily the nicest you’ve ever stepped foot in. Certainly nicer than the boutique cafes Chiara (and her dad’s credit card) often treat you to. Giorno hands his keys to a valet and leads you up the steps with a hand on your lower back, through a set of heavy double doors and into the lavish building. Elegant decor, low lighting, floor to ceiling windows overlooking Naple’s skyline and the bay…this definitely has ankle monitor guy beat. Regretfully, you do have to give this one to Chiara.
The hostess looks up from her station as you approach, and upon seeing Giorno, immediately gathers a couple of menus and motions for the two of you to follow her. He must be a regular here, you think, or maybe it has something to do with what Chiara was telling you earlier. Something about Giorno being a bigger deal than you understood.
The hostess seats you at a table in the far corner of the restaurant. Quiet, secluded from the other patrons. Giorno pulls your seat out for you and takes the jacket from your shoulders. He orders a bottle of wine with a name you don’t recognize and the hostess leaves you with your menus.
“I hope the restaurant is to your liking,” he says. He must be joking. Everything about it is beautiful, if not a little intimidating for someone unused to such luxury.
“It’s very pretty,” you say, looking out across the bay. The sun is beginning to set, casting vivid red hues across the seawater.
“Do you like to watch the ocean?” he asks.
“From a distance, absolutely,” you answer. “Up close it gets a little…scarier.”
“Scary? Are you not a fan of swimming, then?”
“Oh no,” you say quickly. “I saw Jaws when I was a kid. Never been the same since.”
The corner of Giorno’s mouth quirks. “I can assure you no one here has died in a shark attack for a very long time.”
The waiter returns to set a wine bottle and two glasses on the table, pouring it out for both of you. Giorno takes a slow sip of his and you pick up your glass to do the same. You aren’t usually one for wine, but you’re not about to offend him by rejecting it. You take a sip and try not to make a face that says “ew.”
“Do you enjoy wine?” Giorno asks.
“Yes,” you lie. “Your friend said you own the club we met at?” A smooth change of subject.
“I do, as well as a couple of others in the city. My business partners and I often hold meetings there, as you saw.”
“Meeting about uh, real estate things?” God, you’re bad at this.
Giorno smiles. “No, not quite. We were actually discussing an upcoming charity fundraiser.”
“That’s nice. Chiara always said her dad’s coworkers were-“ you realize you’re about to put your foot in your mouth yet again, and change course. “-great people. Really generous.”
Giorno takes another slow sip from his glass, and fixes you with a look you can’t quite place. “That very kind of her, but things haven’t always been this way. I do try to keep them in line now that I’m in the business.”
“What charity are you fundraising for?”
“A few,” Giorno begins. “Most of them supporting children and families affected by substance abuse.”
Ah, Naple’s infamous addiction issues. From what you’ve heard, the problem has lessened in severity since the last decade, but an issue with roots so deep can only be uprooted so quickly.
“I’ve heard about the addiction rates here,” you say. “Is it something you’re passionate about?”
“Absolutely,” Giorno says, and his gaze becomes intense, even more so than it always seems to be. “You could say that my life’s work has revolved around it. To threaten the well-being of these people, to pollute these streets with drugs-“ he turns to gaze through the window, at the sidewalks and people below. “-it’s unforgivable.”
You aren’t sure how to respond to such a speech, at first. Giorno’s intensity is brilliant to the point of intimidation, firm and absolute in this conviction he’s shared with you. You realize that this is the same assuredness you’ve seen in him since you met him that night, in every small interaction you witnessed (and shared) with him. In the way he’s looked at you, even after only just having met you. An absolute certainty in what he wants, and the absolute confidence to pursue it. You have no doubt, somehow, that he’ll have it.
“I like that,” you say simply. “I mean, you must be very proud. It seems like all your work is paying off.”
“I am,” he says, with that intense gaze fixed on you. Bright. Brilliant. “Thank you. You would be surprised at how much…resistance my work has been met with. It isn’t something one receives thanks for often, in my circle.”
You can’t imagine an apparent philanthropist being so deprived of something as basic as genuine praise, but the look on his face is achingly close to something you’ve seen before. In kids who were never told enough how good they were, in quiet classmates who’s work never seemed to be noticed. It’s uncomfortable, almost, to see pieces of those people in the man in front of you. It’s intimate, too intimate, and Giorno is still pinning you with that look, so you decide now is a good time to veer the conversation onto a different course.
“Well, if your whole real estate business doesn’t work out, I guess you could always ask the local mafia for a job,” you say.
Giorno’s mouth quirks again. “Oh?”
“My friend says they’ve really cracked down on the drug trade around here,” you explain. “I bet you’d fit right in. Be like a real Dark Knight type of situation.”
“Was Batman in the mafia?” Giorno says, matching your playful tone.
“Uh, maybe? He broke a lot of laws, right? So basically the same thing.”
“Mm,” Giorno hums. “Yes, I suppose it is.” Something in his smile is unplaceable to you. It reminds you of the night in the club, when you were pricked with the feeling that something was going over your head. That Giorno is in on some private joke you’re oblivious to.
“But if I was spending my evenings fighting crime,” he begins. “I wouldn’t have had the pleasure of meeting you.”
Warmth spreads through your cheeks, now from more than just the wine. Giorno is easy to talk to. Charming, witty, polite. The food he orders for you is delicious, of course, and you don’t realize until your plate is cleared and the sun has set that Giorno has managed to keep you talking for the entire evening. To think that you had been so anxious about this date, and just a few hours later here you are, chatting like you’ve known him for months.
When Giorno leads you outside the moon has already begun to rise, cool night air brushing past your flushed skin. His hand is warm on your lower back as he escorts you down the steps, firm under your fingers as he helps you into the car. When he slides into the driver’s seat and his own door clicks shut beside him, the bustle of the street and chatter of the crowds melts away, an intimate silence filling the small space of the car.
“Have I told you that you look beautiful tonight?” Giorno says, his eyes dipping briefly along the curves of your face, your neck, your…they flit back up to meet yours. Your skin prickles.
“Mm, maybe a couple of times,” you say.
Headlights from passing cars bathe Giorno in fleeting streaks of light, glinting off the rings on his fingers, illuminating his face and the skin of his chest where his unbuttoned shirt parts. He brushes his fingers over the soft skin of your hand, watching your face intently, as if testing the waters for your reaction. You curl your fingers into his, feeling the warmth of his palms, the slick metal of his rings.
“Thank you for taking me out,” you say softly.
“The pleasure was mine,” he says, his thumb making slow drags across your knuckles. “You’ll have to allow me the chance to do it again. After all, I need to redeem myself with a drink you actually enjoy.”
You huff sharply at the mischievous edge to his words. “You noticed.”
He smiles, teasing as his fingers brush up and down yours. “It was very kind of you to try to spare my ego, but I did notice.”
“And you were just going to let me suffer through it?” your smile back.
Giorno leans into your space, your twined hands close enough to his face that you can feel his breath on your fingers.
“Do you know that you scrunch your face when you drink something bitter?” he says. You’re suddenly very aware of the drool pooling underneath your tongue, and swallow hard. “It’s very endearing, (y/n).”
You can’t seem to push a response through your lips. The two of you sit in a charged silence, watching each other, feeling the warmth radiating from his body.
He says your name in a low voice. “May I kiss you?”
Oh, he may. He absolutely may.
“Yes,” you breathe. His hand untangles from yours to slide up your shoulder, your neck, under the line of your jaw and into the thick of your hair. His fingers curl into it there, the pressure on your scalp tilting your head back and pulling a sharp exhale from your lips.
“Can I ask you a question?” he says, his breathe fanning across your mouth. You answer with an “mm,” too woozy with anticipation to put together anything more.
“How long have you wanted me to do it?”
Oh, he is cocky. Most frustrating is the fact that you can’t say it’s undeserved; Giorno is gorgeous, and charming, and right in front you, and you do want it. You have wanted it since…you think back to the first time you felt this familiar heat around him.
“Since you cornered me. Against the bathroom door in the club,” you tell him.
From this close, you can see the tiniest pull of a smile on his lips. “Hm,” he says. “That long?”
He’s finally worn out your patience. Your hands fly to his face, cupping the sharp lines of his jaw, threading into his hair and tugging him into you, covering his warm mouth with your own. He hums into it, returning your kiss with equal pressure, and as quickly as you’ve kissed him you realize he’s already taken back the reigns.
Giorno’s mouth works against yours slowly, surely. You cede control to him happily, letting your hands slide down the hard lines of his neck and shoulders. The fabric of his jacket is like butter under your hands, fine and delicate over his sturdy form. You nudge it to the side as your hands wander, the skin of them pressing into the bare skin of his neck where his muscles work as he takes your mouth over and over again.
His other hand presses into your waist then, encouraging you over the center console and closer to his chest. You let him pull you wherever he pleases, one hand dropping onto his leg to steady yourself as you’re dragged nearly on top of him. With the distance closed, his hand slides to wrap his entire arm around you, pulling you further into his chest, close enough for his mouth to wander down, down to your neck and the sensitive space where it meets your shoulder.
Your breathing has picked up. Enough that the window in front of you is beginning to fog, and you can feel your chest brushing up against his with every gulp of air. He runs a hand down your back in soothing strokes.
“Easy,” he coos. “I’ve got you.”
He pulls away just enough for you catch your breath, but close enough still to leave his grip in your hair and his arm around your body, making steady, steady strokes. It isn’t like you to get so worked up so quickly. But then, none of your dates before now have been…well, Giorno.
“Giorno,”you breathe. Your fingers find the skin of his shoulders again, scratching lightly them, and the sharp breath it pulls from the man pressed up against you is delicious.
“I’m here,” he says. Is his voice getting huskier? “Is there something you need?”
There is, but it isn’t something you normally ask for. Not on a first date, and certainly not from a man your hardly know.
But Giorno has made you feel nothing but safe in the short time you’ve spent with him. It’s irrational, how much you want to trust him despite practically being strangers, but you cannot deny this quality about him that just makes you feel…safe. That coaxes you gently into placing your faith in him.
He says your name again. “You don’t have to do anything you’re uncomfortable with. I can take you home now, if that’s what you want.”
But you do want it. You do want him. The hard part is asking for it. Giorno is older than you, wealthy, gorgeous, wildly successful, and a dozen other things that make insecurity coil tightly in your gut. But he watches you so patiently while you deliberate, his gentle hand making circles on your back, and to assume that he would look down on you for any of those things feels as if it would be an insult to his character.
You swallow hard. “No, I want it.”
That smile on his lips again. “Want what?”
Your head drops to his shoulder and you groan, taking a fistful of his undershirt. “Please don’t tease me like this.”
Giorno tucks his head into the space between your neck and your shoulder, his breath fanning over your ear. “Tell me exactly what you want, and I’ll give it to you.”
You whine into his shoulder and only feel a bit embarrassed at the childishness of it. “I can’t,” you tell him.
He places one of his hands into yours and you take it in your grasp. “Then show me.”
Splaying his hand out on your ribs, he waits for your guidance. You intertwine your fingers again, feeling the size of his hand under yours, the metallic edge of his rings. He squeezes your fingers back, but makes no other move. He really is going to make you ask for this.
You let out a long, shaky breath. You want this. You want him. Tentatively, you begin dragging his hand across the plane of your body. Up your ribs, just underneath the swell of your breast, where his thumb brushes curiously over the underwire of your bra. You linger there, moving his hand in short arcs under the curve of your breast, breath hitching as his thumb travels closer and closer to the stiff peak of your nipple…and then you drop your hand, dragging him away from the soft flesh.
His mouth curls into a smile against your shoulder. “Teasing me?”
You laugh breathlessly as you guide his hand over the dip in your waist. “Only since you seem to like it so much.”
His hand slides appreciatively over the meat of your hip, kneading it firmly. You follow the cut of your hipbone inward, underneath the plush of your belly, to the crease between you thigh. Blood rushes hot through your ears, making you almost dizzy with want. Anything you ask for, he said. Anything you ask, he’ll give.
The heat of his mouth attaches to your neck again, and the feeling is so wonderful against your buzzing skin that you feel your eyes flutter close. He’s encouraging you, you realize. Gently coaxing you into confidence. He wants you, too.
Inching him down, you guide his hand to brush over the mound between your hips. Your breath catches. You’ve never had to ask for this before.
You think of the men you’ve been with in times past. How they practically threw themselves at you, taking absolutely anything they could get from you, hungrily, without restraint. This is foreign. It makes you feel almost desperate with need, to be so close to having what you want, but to be so nervous to reach out for it.
Sensing your hesitation, Giorno opens his mouth and presses the wet heat of his tongue flat against your neck, dragging it up along the line of your jaw to the sensitive skin below your ear, and this time your eyes do roll back. The wet trail he leaves on your skin chills in the night air, and you moan for him.
“Che brava ragazza (what a good girl),” he praises you. “You can have it. Just ask me for it, you can have it.”
He squeezes your hand gently, reassuringly, and you don’t have the patience to be bashful anymore. You slide him down to the bunched up hem of your dress, under the fabric, and flat against your aching core. The meat of his palm is firm against your folds and he rewards you immediately with a strong grip around your pussy.
“Good, good girl,” he says, making short strokes with his whole hand up and down your center. He pulls away from your neck only to drag you into another kiss, harder than the last, and you abandon his hand against you to fist both of yours into his hair. The moan you let into his mouth is wanton, embarrassingly so for someone who’s only barely been touched. You can’t bring yourself to care. The pressure between your legs is so, so good.
Deft fingers slip under your panties and you gasp as he slides the pads of his fingers along the wet of your lips.
“All this? Already?” Giorno says airily.
“You make—fuck,” your voice clips as the pads of Giorno’s fingers dip into your entrance, dragging your slick up to the nub of your clit. “Mmmm fuck, you make me feel good.”
Giorno groans, a low rumble in his chest, and you drop your head to his shoulder as his fingers make quick circles around your clit. His pace is steady, pressure firm, as he works you closer and closer to a peak that is quickly approaching.
You take the hand still tangled in your hair and drag it to rest flat on the meat of your breast, which he kneads greedily. The temperature in the confined space of the car has risen, high enough that you can feel sweat starting to gather on your skin and dampen your clothes, but you don’t care. You might be about to squirt all over the interior of Giorno’s nice car, but you can’t bring yourself to care about that either when he’s pulling you so diligently to your climax.
“You’re so worked up,” he says, and his voice is definitely shot now. Deep. Gravelly. A little bit desperate. “Are you going to cum for me?”
You are. You are you are you are, and his fingers pick up their pace under your panties, and the hand on your breast finds the soft peak of your nipple underneath the pad of your bra and pinches, and you squeal. The pressure between your legs is hot, hot, hot.
“Yes, I’m gonna cum. Fuck, I’m gonna cum, please please please-“ You collapse into his chest, thighs shaking underneath you, and moan into the fabric of his suit as the pressure in your hips finally releases. With the arm around your waist Giorno holds you upright while you go practically boneless against him, hips stuttering into his hand as he works you through the length of your orgasm, his chest rumbling against you as he praises, “brava, brava ragazza, proprio così (good, good girl, just like that).”
As the rush begins to sizzle out, his fingers continue in their persistent slide against your clit, until you’re pushing at his hand with an “ah, ah” that has him laughing airily. The car is filled with the sound of your fluttering breaths, and of the quiet, soothing noises Giorno makes above you.
“Good thing I don’t have a night job fighting crime,” Giorno teases you.
You laugh breathlessly. “Yeah, good thing.”
You wrap your arms around his broad chest, sinking into the warmth of his body, and he envelops you in his arms. Stroking your back as you shiver, carding fingers through the tangles of your hair. As the fuzz begins to clear from your head, you feel the faintest warmth in your belly again as you realize you aren’t quite finished. Your fingers slide along the edge of his belt, playing with the buckle before he scoops your hand into his and brings it to his lips for a kiss.
“Not yet, amore,” he says. “Not here.”
Your shoulders slump with your disappointment and he laughs against your hair.
“When I fuck you,” he speaks into your ear. “I’m going to do it properly.” You shiver against him.
He lets you rest against his chest until you’ve caught your breath. “Do you have work tomorrow?” he asks.
You shake your head. “No.”
“Then come home with me,” he says with a smile and a kiss to your head. “And I’ll let you have whatever else you want.”
You pull back to look at him. Cheeks flushed. Hair tousled from the work of your fingers. The collar of his shirt pushed wide open against his chest. You want, you want, you want.
“Ok,” you answer, and press your lips to his warm cheek. The car starts with a low rumble, and you fix yourself in your seat. Your skirt is bunched around your waist, your hair a mess, your makeup smeared, no doubt. Giorno pulls away from the curb and you roll down the emptying Naples streets. “But only if I get to tease you this time.”
He meets your eyes with that look that promises absolutely nothing good. “Of course,” he says, pulling your hand to his mouth for another kiss. And another.
“Anything you want.”
563 notes · View notes
randoimago · 3 months
Note
Can you do head canons for DIO having a daughter one that’s older than Giorno please :)
Being DIO's Daughter
Fandom: JoJo's Bizarre Adventure
Character(s): DIO
Note(s): So I didn't know if you wanted this to be the daughter growing up with Giorno or being raised by DIO so I went with the latter.
Tumblr media
DIO
In the case that his daughter is with him, he is a protective father. His daughter gets whatever she wants. His own dad was a piece of shit and he vows to never harm her. But because of that, he can be a bit too protective at times. Which doesn't mix well considering she's a teen and the rebellious stage is hitting hard.
Honestly, he can't help being a bit impressed when his daughter develops his cunning. Hearing that she managed to sneak out causes him to kill a few minions, but he has some pride that she managed to do it. She'll be scolded when she gets back, but for now he's proud.
So, when DIO had come back, a few JoJo's had various transformations (Josuke and his fever, Giorno becoming blond). Should his daughter become very sick then DIO worries. He gives a shit about his child, of course he worries. He's questioning Enya, he's tempted to give you more of his blood, just something.
But if you do begin to go blond or just look more like him then he feels so much pride. He wasn't bothered when you looked similar to your other parent, but seeing you looking more like him makes him a bit emotional.
Imagining walking out of his bedroom with Pucci, only to catch you acting like you weren't eavesdropping because you don't know what to think of your father's new "boyfriend". It amuses DIO.
Back to speaking of DIO's protective nature, he sends you to stay with Pucci after learning that the JoJo's are coming after him. While he's confident he can take care of it, you're still a child and he doesn't want you getting involved. It's definitely one of the few times when he does really put his foot down and show you how scary he actually is. Nothing scares DIO, but the idea of his daughter being harmed terrifies him.
You get a long hug from him and a kiss on the top of your head before he sends you away with Pucci. It's the last time you see your dad, but Pucci promises that you will have a good life.
140 notes · View notes
vivinomi · 8 months
Text
the boys love language
male!character x fem!reader
Characters from lookism, htf, jjba (pt1 - pt6)
Tumblr media
Words of Affirmation 💗
lookism: Sinu, Warren, Jihan
htf: Snapper, Yeonwoo
jjba: Jonathan, Polnareff, Hol Horse, Koichi, Yuya, Weather Report
You and your boyfriend are huffing and puffing after the pillow fight, he stares at you- admiring your beauty. "I love you", he whispers as your cheeks flush with his words. "Love you too". "You're so fun to be with". "You're beautiful". "I'm so lucky to be with you". "I'm glad you're in my life". "You're so special to me". "I promise to make you the happiest woman ever". You subconsciously tear up from all of his words, burying your face into the pillow, you feel special. Your boyfriend gets worried and he hugs you for ease. "Thank you", you mutter in his chest as he smiles and pats your back, drifting to sleep.
Acts of Service 💖
lookism: Daniel, Eli, Jace, Jake, Xiaolong, Taesoo, Jinyeong, Jichang
htf: Seongjun, Wangguk
jjba: Speedwagon, Wamuu, Esidisi, Jotaro, Avdol, Tonio, Kira, Giorno, Bruno, Prosciutto, Risotto, Pucci
"Wakey wakey, dear", he flashed his smile as soon as you open your eyes and was met with a sweet aroma of pancake. He grabs a fork and takes a small piece of pancake, dipping it in honey. "Say ahhh...", he brings the fork closer to you and you obligingly open your mouth and bite it. Smiling to yourself as the sweet, viscous honey melts on your touch while chewing the pancake. You take a bath after your boyfriend fed you breakfast. Hopping from your shower, warping your body with a towel as you walk towards your bedroom. You gasped seeing your messy bed has been tidied and your room is clean— never expecting your boyfriend would do this. All of the chores that you listed today were done by him, and sometimes almost every day he will help you.
Giving Gifts 💌
lookism: Jay, Eugene, Samuel, Gun
htf: Jinho
jjba: Telence D'arby, Steely Dan, Diavolo
"What's this, babe?", you asked as soon as your boyfriend toss a gucci shopping bag to you. He smirks, "It's a gift for you, beautiful". Your cheeks heat up and you quickly open the bag— feeling excited. Your eyes sparkled when you hold a pretty red dress, it's so mesmerising that you try it on. The dress perfectly hugs your beautiful body making you stand out. Your boyfriend chuckles and grabs your wrist as he slides a heart-shaped bracelet into your wrist. "For you...", he whispers and looks at you full of love. "—oh I forgot that I bought you heels", he added and grabs the dior shopping bag. Smiling as you feel happy that your boyfriend always has everything for you.
Quality Time 💘
lookism: Zack, Vasco, Vin jin, Olly, Hudson, DG, Johan
htf: Hobin, Taehoon
jjba: Joseph, Kakyoin, N'Doul, Josuke, Rohan, Mikitaka, Akira, Abbacchio, Fugo, Doppio, Pesci, Formaggio, Ghiaccio
Today, you and your boyfriend go to the arcade after weeks of him working non stop. Playing the racing game with him and you couldn't stop smirking as you keep winning, whilst he groans. Grabbing his arm to try the shooting game where you kill zombies. Laughing together whenever both of you lose or when the game keeps having a glitch. "Haunted house? Are you sure you can handle it?", he quirks his brow after you suggest going there, knowing you wouldn't feel afraid— but you were wrong. The haunted house is 10x darker and the ghosts are so realistic that you keep clinching your boyfriend's arm. "Now I can protect you", he smirks— holding you closer as you relief, feeling safe. Later that evening, he gives you a piggyback ride.
Physical Touch 💝
lookism: Ryuhei, Goo, Jibeom, Gongseob, Jiho, Taejin, Hangyeoul
htf: Mangi, Hyeonsu
jjba: Dio, Caesar, Kars, Vanilla Ice, Okuyasu, Mista, Narancia, Tiziano, Squalo, Melone, Illuso, Anasui
Your boyfriend isn't embarrassed to hold hands and even kissing not make out in public. He loves showing people what's his. Even in private, he couldn't stop being touchy with you, of course with your consent. When watching a movie together, he would cuddle you and gives you a peck on your cheeks, smiling as he sees your flushed face— it's so cute. Before parting away, he would playfully kiss you and waves goodbye every day. Sometimes, he will give you a massage whenever your body is sore, his massage is the best since he's so strong and big.
143 notes · View notes
pillow-anime-talk · 1 year
Text
dating with jotaro.
request ; @needy-self-ship-jjba​​: can we have headcanons of what kind of dates jotaro like to go with his fem!s/o?
# tags: headcanon; current relationship; dates!au; romance; mostly fluff; a bit of comedy; soft!jotaro; pda; sfw
includes: female reader ft. jotaro kujo {jojo 3}
author’s note: i’m sorry you waited so so so long, darling. hope you will like it! also i tried to show the character of jotaro well! :D
Tumblr media
↘ Jotaro doesn’t like dates. He’s not the type of romantic person who takes his girlfriend to exciting and crowded places.
↘ Jotaro is rather the type of man who chooses to spend time together at home or possibly in some deserted, quiet place (such as a park or a wild beach).
↘ Other types of dates that make sense to him include cooking together, going to a museum just before closing time, or a quick trip to the aquarium so he can see dolphins and other cute fishes, and buy a mascot in the shape of your favorite sea animal.
↘ I don’t think Jotaro is a clingy person either (or rather, he doesn’t look like that), but he has a cute little thing for you every time you meet each other – your favorite gummies, a basket full of fresh apples or a new keychain (you probably already have ten of them).
↘ In the privacy of your home, you like watching movies or series together, as well as eating salty or sweet snacks. He’s definitely a big spoon, therefore he’s the person who hugs you when you rest or sleep.
↘ I don’t think he’s a fan of study dates; however, if you are preparing for school or repeating material for a important test, Jotaro will certainly make an exception for you and test your knowledge by asking you various questions.
↘ Sometimes he acts like your father ‘cause he’s very worried and he feels an inner need to take care of your health; he will put a hat on you, give you his jacket, buy you something cold to drink during the hot season or, on the contrary, offer you some tea in late autumn and winter. He’ll definitely get upset if you don’t listen to him or do stupid things like running on slippery surfaces or staying up late on the phone/laptop.
↘ He rarely shows his emotions, but he really tries to be honest with you. You appreciate it very much!
↘ I also think that he’s very jealous and won’t be afraid to challenge someone to a duel. He doesn’t like to share, he doesn’t like other men close to you.
↘ But despite everything, he’s a good guy who always tries to respect you and take care for you (even though other women are reject quickly by him and he even insult them by saying that they’ll never be on your level).
Tumblr media Tumblr media
480 notes · View notes
savsbizarrefilter · 11 months
Note
feelin a bit devious so thats why im anonymous but can you make nsfw fem reader x jolyne??? just thinkin abt bein fingered by her is making me INSANE ‼️‼️‼️‼️😭😭😭(i love this woman sm)
Tumblr media
jolyne x [fem]reader
warning(s): sexual content, fingering, making out, semi-public.
a/n: MMMMMMMMMMM no cuz youre mind <333 the chokehold the part 6 girlies have on me is SICK. so glad your requested this... thank you anon!
Tumblr media
"You're such a good girl." Jolyne purred in your ear.
you two currently sat in the corner of the library with her hand down your pants while her other hand held your waist in an effort to keep you from squirming too much. you pressed your wrist to your mouth to stifle your whimpers. your hips bucked into her hand, the friction aiding to the pressure on your clit making you shiver.
you were way too scared to make noise. you knew damn well if you were caught in this position, the other inmates would give you no end. her fingers were curled into an angle where she continuously stroked at your g-spot, her fingertips stroking the small patch to bring you closer to your climax.
Jolyne's warmth is overwhelming, and her body heat is driving you insane—not to mention the fact that the warmth of her sweet lips on your neck does no better than to deter you from staying composed. a small whimper slips by your pursed lips as you feel her teeth nip into your skin, her goal to leave a mark for everyone else to see. she runs her tongue over the little bite, teasing your skin to soothe the pain before moving lower onto your exposed collarbone to leave more marks there as well.
with a particular buck of your hips it sends you into frenzy. the sound of your cunt was much more noticeable at this point. your chest rises and falls rapidly as she picks up speed only enough to overstimulate you rather than over do it. your hastily grip her wrist as you ride against her fingers, your head tilting back against the books as you chase your high.
she quickly leans up to place her lips on yours, gladly swallowing your moans within her lips in the kiss. her tongue slips into your wet cavern, a moan of her own is muffled against your mouth as you two haphazardly makeout in the back of the library.
"Mmnnn..." You groan against her lips as you reach your high, body tensing and walls clenching around her deft fingers. Jolyne smirks against your lips and slows down her stroking to help bring you down from your high. she pulls away from the kiss with a trail of saliva connecting you two, her quickly leaning to get rid of it by giving you another chaste kiss. she admires your fucked out state, chest heaving, the dazed look behind your eyes, your disheveled clothes and if it was noticeable the flush of your skin from arousal.
"See? You're perfect." She spreads her fingers to show your slick on her fingers before plopping them in her mouth. she gets up and without a look back she leaves you in the back of the library, a mess.
you'd need to get up soon... and change your underwear.
Tumblr media
                  all rights reserved © savsbizzarefilter
Tumblr media
132 notes · View notes
saerotonins · 7 months
Text
so uh, i had this jotaro fic idea, here's the draft synopsis/summary that i made like, almost a month ago ????
-
years later after you and jotaro's divorce, jolyne slowly realized the weight it has been giving on your shoulders. the usual sparkle in your eyes gone, the stares you usually give to families with both parents present and a loving partner: jolyne was still a child that time but as she grew up, the hurt that brews inside of you became apparent as years had gone by.
one time when she was a child, she realized that the time where you were gone for two weeks, you were in a hotel, crying your eyes out, while kakyoin, polnareff, avdol, and even joseph took turns on taking care of jolyne while you were gone. as a mother, you couldn't bear nor didn't have the time to bawl your eyes out after the divorce and you're sure as hell that you wouldn't want your child witnessing you in your misery. so once you got the leave you were waiting for from your company, you booked a room and stayed there until you cried your heart out.
seeing the damaged it had done to you, jolyne— a decade after— made it as her life mission to go back in the past and stop both you and jotaro from being together. she just wants you to be happy again, and be free from the heavy feeling of your heart once and for all.
even if it means that her existence will be no more.
-
pls let me know what u think! 🫶🏻
74 notes · View notes
sha-n-dowbannedlol · 1 year
Text
cw: suggestive
It was to be kept a secret.
Both you and Jotaro came to an agreement that your relationship would be kept a secret.
Your current mission leaves no room for romance, and if enemies were to find out just how much you mean to the Joestar descendant, then the target placed on your back would be much larger than Jotaro's.
Not even the crusaders were allowed to know—Joseph would be all too eager to room the two of you together all the time, you both had an inkling that Kakyoin and Avdol would take every chance they could to tease the stoic teen and, Polnareff.... well, him not knowing such a piece of sensitive information needs no explanation.
You will join this adventure, but under no circumstance should your relationship with the youngest Joestar descendant should be known by anyone but the two of you.
For your safety. For his sanity.
Yet, the way he declared that you were to share a room with him left not even Joseph a room to object. The way he grabbed your wrist and pulled you with him, swiping the key from the receptionist's hand made you feel like your teammates were starting to get a clue as to what your relationship with the man is.
But you couldn't bring yourself to pull your hand from his grasp and tell him off, even as you reach your room. Jotaro was deadset on just one thing and one thing only as he barely stops to push the door with his foot, sitting down harshly on the bed that you heard it creak before pulling you to his lap.
His arms snake around your waist as you straddle his lap, his face quick to bury between the space where your neck meets your shoulders, and you wrap your arms around his neck to pull him close.
It was a close call for you today. If he wasn't fast enough.. if he was even a single second late... then you... you would have....
His arms tighten around you, and if you hadn't been paying close attention to him, you would have missed the way he started to tremble as he wills the thought of what could have been.
Your soft whispers of apology were not heard by the man who only wishes to revel in your warmth, to listen to the soft thrumming of your heartbeat against your chest, to assure himself that you're safe and sound in his arms.
And you had been so focused on Jotaro that you hadn't realized much earlier the small mistake that had been done in his moment of haze when you both arrived in your room.
You let out a soft sigh as the man below you starts planting soft kisses on your neck, specifically focusing on your pulse point. Your eyes wander around the room as he continues, only to catch the sight of the unmissable red and silver hair.
Now, Kakyoin hadn't meant to disturb anything. But he had been worried about you. That was an extremely close call, and you seemed so out of it during the journey to the hotel room that he can't help but be concerned. He wanted to room with you tonight to comfort one of his first ever friends—but Jotaro beat him to that.
Still, he should check up on you. That's what friends do, right?
And it seems like the other three crusaders had the same idea as they cross paths on their way to your and Jotaro's room.
They were quite surprised to see the door was half open, as if someone had tried to close it but didn't push with enough force for it to close completely. Polnareff volunteered to knock on the door, but the sight that greeted the four of them was too much of a shock that they froze in place.
Your eyes widen as four pairs of eyes with the same shocked look on your face look back at you, their jaws dropped to the ground at the sight of you and the other teen in such an intimate position.
Jotaro hadn't shown any signs of his fondness towards you, he treated you the same way he treated them and the only time they see the two of you conversing was when it was about battle plans—Joseph had an inkling Jotaro had budding feelings for you, but he didn't know that a whole relationship was going on.
You were quick to pull yourself away from Jotaro, standing up and moving away from him which greatly upset the man—if his soft whine was anything to go by—but the sight of your widened eyes caused the man to immediately turn around, his reddened eyes quick to be as wide as saucers too.
"WHAT THE FU-!!"
Star Platinum slams the door shut before Polnareff could even finish his exclamation and you can feel that Jotaro wants nothing but to bury himself 6 feet underground. The two of you share a look of disbelief, before looking back at the closed door where your still bewildered teammates stood on the other side.
You both stood frozen in your position for a few more minutes before Polnareff said something about staying safe followed by a wrapper sliding under the door—and you had a feeling as to what it was even if you can't see it properly in the dark room—along with the unmistakable sound of Joseph's muffled voice telling Jotaro to 'close the door next time', the sound of a half-horrified, half-amused chuckle coming from Kakyoin, and the sound of muffled apologies for disturbing you coming from Avdol before their footsteps fade away.
Your boyfriend was quick to let out a loud groan and strings of curses before plopping on the bed and burying his head on the pillow, and you could only let out a sigh of annoyance as your shoulder melts before running a hand on your face.
Tomorrow is going to be a long day.
1K notes · View notes
noaltbruh · 1 year
Note
um, 🍭 and 🍰 for anasui and weather report? congrats on 200 follows btw ^^
One of them is among my favorites in part 6, I would gladly burn alive the other.
Guess who's who.
On a more serious note- Of course! And thanks for the request :)
~~~~~
🍭 How easy is it to fluster them?
When it comes to Anasui, it really won't take much to fluster him. This dude doesn't just love you, he's obsessed with you, which means that literally anything you might say to him will get him to turn all red and bashful.
To be honest, maybe you weren't even trying to flirt with him, he just interpreted your words in his own way and now he's all flustered even if it wasn't your intention in the first place.
It is pretty funny though, and also cute in a way. He'll probably go "awww stawwp" despite the fact that he'd dying to receive any sort of attention from you, especially this kind.
So if you're not very confident in your flirting skills, don't worry, you'll never have to worry about them not being good enough for him.
~~~~~~
Is...Is it even possible to fluster Weather?
To be completely honest with you, trying to affectionately tease him won't get much of a result most of the time. He doesn't really understand how flirting works, and is either confused or unfazed by most of your attempts.
Let's say, for examples, you were to compliment him more than usual. I can see him mostly just smiling and thanking you rather than blushing and such. He doesn't mean to be so detached, he can't help it. He thinks you're just being affectionate and nice, you are his partner, after all.
I could potentially see him getting flustered, but only on very specific and rare circumstances. When that does happen, Weather doesn't really...Understand what's going on? He just feels his cheeks getting warm and all of a sudden he's struggling to even look at you.
He'll probably try to go back to his usual composure as soon as he can, but he'll spend the rest of the day thinking about how... Interesting that felt.
🍰 How teasing are they? Do they often flirt with their S/O?
Anasui is a flirting bomb fr. Dude's teasing and complimenting you literally all the time you two are together, he's incapable of spending more than 3 minutes without praising or remarking something about you.
Now, quantity doesn't equal quality, and he's the living proof of that. With this man it's kind of a fifty fifty situation, he'll either come up with the smoothest compliment and flirting style humanity has ever witnessed, or the cringest pick up line ever that will probably make you burst out laughing.
When the latter happens, it's quite entertaining to watch, because your reaction will actually make him blush instead.
He's not afraid to get close either, and physical contact is actually one of his favorite ways of flirting with you, whether that'd be neck kisses or grabbing your waist.
~~~~
Weather IS good at flirting, but like, accidentally lol.
The thought of getting you bashful doesn't even cross his mind because, like I said, he doesn't understand nor know what it is or how it works.
I can see Anasui trying to give him some advice on how to flirt with you, but he wouldn't follow them because he doesn't trust his judgment in this sort of thing or at all
With that being said, this man will turn you red without even trying. He'll get very touchy and compliment you with no filters whatsoever. If he has something nice to say about you, he'll say it without thinking twice. Adding in to this, the calmness and and composure in his voice will make everything sound way smoother than he intended to be.
303 notes · View notes
ddarker-dreams · 10 months
Text
Waning Moon.
Tumblr media
Yan Giorno x F Reader. Commissioned piece.
Warnings: Yandere themes, unhealthy relationships, religions symbolism and codependency (???). Word count: 3k.
Tumblr media
You don’t remember it being this difficult to stay up late. 
As a child, the concept was so novel that the excitement alone sustained you. Streetlamps illuminated a world that fell into stasis until the sun poked its head over in the east, all creation held its breath in anticipation. You’d settle into this valley between loneliness and the closest you’d ever get to peace. 
There was only you and that was frightening. 
There was only you and that was comforting. 
As an adult, staying up late requires intentionality, willpower, and caffeine. Lots of caffeine. 
The allure of courting a silent relationship with the moon might not be as mystifying, but the charm isn’t entirely lost with age. It has remained constant while you endured an upheaval you never expected. Constants become anchors in an otherwise restless sea. Come what may, you know this for certain — the moon will rise every night over a villa whose doors don’t unlock at your behest. 
Sighing, you shut the book in your hands and rub your eyes. You haven’t been able to retain any of the words on the pages. It reminds you of those late nights spent hunched over at your desk, diligently studying for the esame di stato. Whenever you began to doze off, you’d chastise yourself; this pertained to your future, after all. Never could you have fathomed your life would unravel the way it did. 
It’s this bitter sentiment that makes you question what exactly you’re trying to accomplish here. 
Is it boredom that’s encouraged this desire to stick your nose in Giorno’s affairs? Spite? You cannot say for certain. 
For a week now (you presume, at least, keeping track of the days has lost its luster), the individual who uprooted your life has been notably absent. No matter how tumultuous his affairs were, he made it a point to at least join you for breakfast or dinner, if not both. Such is his wish to lend an air of normalcy to this dubious union. Lately, you’ve only seen him in passing, as if he were a specter haunting the hall and not the man who holds the deed. 
What remained consistent, however, is his return to your shared bedroom to sleep. Physiological needs are the great equalizer. You don’t know how, but he can slip into bed without waking you. Had it not been for the wrinkled bed sheets and the lingering aroma of cologne come morning, you never would’ve known he’d been there. 
You thought if you stayed up long enough, you might entertain a conversation that lasted longer than a few minutes. Morbid curiosity is a surprisingly strong motivator. 
Unfortunately, reality rarely aligns with your hopes. It’s currently three in the morning and there’s been no sign of Giorno. You refasten your silk robe upon standing, appraising the master suite for some means to preoccupy yourself. It’s when your weary eyes land on the canopy bed that your resolve is tested. Really, what is it you’re trying to do? Have a heart-to-heart with the man who controls the country from the shadows? Get in a few more sarcastic quips before calling it a day? 
It’s this challenge to your original design that has you walking over to your side of the bed. 
That is, until your name is spoken by the door. 
You freeze where you stand, feeling akin to a child caught with one hand in the cookie jar. You never gave much thought to if you’re breaking some unspoken rule by dilly-dallying all night. At the very least, Giorno wouldn’t appreciate the damage to your health. He’s never harsh with his chastising — if you can even call it that — but you’re in uncharted territory. A week of sleeping three to four hours could make a sinner of the most steadfast saint. 
He repeats your name, likely assuming you didn’t hear him the first time, and you swallow thickly. 
“I, um…” you trail off, playing with the ends of your hair, “I just felt like… walking around…?” 
It occurs to you then that he never asked what you were doing, he simply said your name. This unprompted confession paired with your conspicuous body language paints you in a guilty light. 
Silence hangs in the room. 
You count the seconds as they trudge by — seven, eight, nine — each addition feeling as if they’re intensifying gravity. Threatened by the prospect of being crushed beneath this force, you pivot, forcing yourself to face him and better gauge your situation. A mannequin that’d just been brought to life would move far more naturally than you. 
Turquoise eyes stare back. They’re inquisitive, maybe, but not scrutinizing. You visibly relax. 
“So I didn’t wake you?”
You shake your head. 
“Was there something you needed, then?” 
You’re about to shake your head again when the clouds outside part. 
Silvery shades flood the room and envelop Giorno’s side profile. It illuminates his countenance, from the soft curls of his golden hair to his rosy lips and sharp jawline. You’ve become familiar with his features throughout the years. That’s why the slightest deviation catches your attention, as if you were an antiquarian charged with determining if a piece of art were fake or genuine. His complexion is duller and bags are forming beneath his eyes. 
“You look exhausted,” you remark. 
“Isn’t that considered a rude thing to say to someone?” is his reply. 
You frown at his lighthearted tone. He’s still wearing a suit, which means whatever he came back from was business related. From this distance, you feel there are details you’re still missing, so you close the gap. It’s unusual to be near Giorno — especially of your own volition — yet this burning need to make sense of things spurs you on. Standing before him, you narrow your eyes. He finds your behavior far too perplexing to speak. 
You’ve always felt Giorno possesses an otherworldly quality that sets him apart from the common rabble, yourself included. This quiet magnetism, steadfast determination, and insightfulness forged from a life of having the odds stacked against him. Consequently, the fact he’s made of flesh and blood often eludes you. So ingrained in your mind is this concept of him being on a pedestal, high and untouchable as Michelangelo’s David. The present predicament is at odds with this lofty image. 
His skin is warm when you take his hand in yours. So he isn’t made of Carrara marble, then. 
Giorno does nothing to challenge your uncharacteristic boldness when you lead him to your destination. By your prompting, he sits on the bed’s edge, utterly transfixed on the link that connects your bodies. It’s like the simple contact placed a spell over him. You take a seat by his side, retrieving your hand while you do so. He almost reaches to take it back before thinking better of it. 
“There must be something pretty serious going on,” you point out. “What is it?” 
“It’s… a heavy subject matter. I wouldn’t want to unnecessarily burden you.” 
You hold up your left hand for him. In doing so, the diamond on your wedding ring catches the moonlight and gleams. “Is this just for show, then? Marriage is about sharing burdens.” 
He chuckles softly, though there’s a certain melancholy to the sound. “I thought you didn’t like to consider me your husband.” 
“The Catholic Church frowns on divorce. Now, enough with trying to change the subject,” you maintain unwavering eye contact. “There are a lot of people who rely on Passione, and you, by extension. You keep the worst of things in check. I might have my… reservations about the specifics, but even I can’t deny that.”
Taking a deep breath, you add, “So, if talking might help you, then… talk. There’s too much at stake to get caught up in petty feelings.” 
For a moment, he closes his eyes, contemplating. He’s always been one to indulge you whenever he can, especially since you rarely ask for anything. 
“Alright. I’ll tell you on one condition, although I must insist on not getting into the details.” 
You squirm in your seat. “And said condition is…?” 
There’s a mischievous tint to his eyes when he reopens them. “Have you been waiting for me all night? Answer truthfully.” 
“I haven’t—!” 
“Truthfully, [First].” 
You huff and cross your arms over your chest. “... Yes.” 
Instead of teasing you, as he enjoys doing, he gives you a gentle smile. The kind he reserves solely for you. He squeezes your hand but doesn’t allow his touch to overstay its welcome. He could take so much more from you and still, he exercises restraint. Is it because it’d shatter the illusion that he was doing all of this to ‘keep you safe’ if he acted on carnality? His commitment to the farce is almost enough to convince you. 
“Thank you, regardless of whatever the reason for it may have been,” Giorno’s sincerity is undeniably stirring. This is the Don of Passione — a man who can win over the undying loyalty of others within a single conversation. Falling into his rhythm is as easy as breathing, he sets such an enticing tempo. 
“You aren’t going back on your word, are you?” You challenge, wanting to distract yourself from this budding feeling in your chest. Whether it be resentment or apathy, he’s capable of chipping away at the walls you form before you realize what’s happening. It should be simple, in theory. Loathing the man who took your freedom and never plans to give it back. It should be very simple. 
But when he looks at you as he does now, like he’d reach into his chest and tear out his heart if only you asked, you’re at a loss. 
“Giorno? What is it?” 
His pupils dilate when his name leaves your lips. This spacing out is unlike him, he’s the keenest person you’ve ever met. It’s the reason why you’ve never been able to get one over him. You’re about to snap your fingers in front of his face when he clears his throat. 
“Ah, it’s nothing, just… well… every time I look at you, every time you speak,” he tucks a stray strand of hair behind your ear, “I learn what it’s like to fall in love all over again.” 
Heat rises to your cheeks and stays there. Exhaustion must be lowering his inhibitions, you can’t fathom him saying this otherwise. The sentiment is always there, playing softly in the background, but now it’s at a volume you can’t drown out. You shiver all over. This is a man who’d make an enemy of the world if it meant winning your favor. Such intensity, such raw attachment, bewilders and leaves you unable to form words. 
Seeing the goosebumps on your forearm, he shrugs his wool blazer off and drapes it over your shoulders. His body heat consumes you. 
“And of course I won’t go back on my word — not with you. Some setbacks that we thought were coincidences are occurring too frequently to be written off. The natural conclusion is that there’s a mole somewhere in the upper ranks. This betrayal… or the beginnings of one… resurfaces some memories. I intend to see to it quickly.” 
As he warned, you’re receiving a sanitized version of the events, but it’s enough to dispel your curiosity. You jump on the chance to move past his unexpected confession. The tender words threatened to give new life to emotions that are better off dead. 
“Be as that may, you’ll be no good to anyone if you don’t get enough sleep.” 
“I’ve been taking naps when the time allows.” 
“That isn’t good enough,” you protest. “You might have youth on your side, but that doesn’t mean you can’t work yourself into an early grave. Properly caring for yourself is a part of the job.” 
Giorno seems to find your insistence amusing. He covers a smile with his hand, laughing lightly to himself. It’s during these displays of boyish charm that his many daunting titles melt away. You’re forcefully drawn back into the rose-colored days of your fledgling love, when his true identity remained a secret, and you saw only what he wanted you to see. What you wouldn’t give to rewind time and relive it again. Long walks on the beach with the Tyrrhenian Sea’s mist kissing your cheeks, morning dates at your favorite caffé where you’d tease him for always ordering the same drink… it was paradise in more ways than one. 
Alas, once you’ve been forcefully ejected from the Garden of Eden, the gate to return is shut for eternity. 
When Giorno recomposes himself, he breaks the silence. 
“I’m truly grateful that you haven’t changed.” 
“Hm?” 
You tilt your head. That wistful expression of his punctures your heart, no matter how hard you try to turn the organ to stone. 
“I was prepared for anything. For you to curse me, hate me. I anticipated and accepted the possibility. What I feared most, though, was the thought of you losing what makes you… well, you. It’d be understandable, given the circumstances, but… the warmth you radiate is as strong as ever. I’m glad.” 
Unable to withstand the weight of his gaze, you avert your attention to your lap, head hanging low. 
“That’s a selfish thing to want, considering everything.” 
If it hurts you to say it, you can only imagine how it makes him feel.
He inhales sharply. “I know. I’m plenty selfish when it comes to you.”
This admission takes you aback. Never has he been so forthcoming about his motivation, not without interweaving sugary sentiments to make the sour truth more palatable. There was always a convenient excuse. That your romantic relationship with him puts you in danger, how this arrangement is to ensure your safety, on and on the list of sickeningly sweet platitudes would go. The puzzle pieces he provided never fit properly. 
The word ‘selfish’ completes the otherwise unfinished picture. 
“You were right. Talking to you does help,” Giorno admits. By the way he says it, you’d think you had just magically solved every problem and tied it up in a bow. 
“Honestly, I don’t think I did much of anything.” 
He sighs at that. You could insult him at the top of your lungs and he wouldn’t flinch, but the moment you’re the least bit critical of yourself, he takes it as a personal offense. 
“Not many people are willing to scold me for not taking care of myself. In fact… you might be the only one,” he muses. 
Your heart sinks and you curl your hands into fists. The nails digging into your palm may hurt, but it’s nothing compared to the ache of your soul. For all he knows about you, Giorno Giovanna is almost an enigma, as far as you’re concerned. The most minuscule acts of kindness stuck out to him like glittering treasures. When you made him home-cooked meals, called him to ask about his day, picked up on the changes in his mood; there’d be this aura of reverence about him. 
How must a person grow up to be in awe of what you’ve always considered to be the bare minimum? 
“On the topic of being selfish, there is something else I want.” 
Perhaps in your sentimentality, you’ve been spoiling him too much. 
“What do you— eek!” 
Strong arms secure themselves around your form and pull you in close. Your eyes widen, lips parting to release protests that never form. Giorno’s body may seem lithe, but he has no issues maneuvering your body as if you were a ragdoll. Still, he treats you with the utmost care, rubbing his hands over your back in a soothing motion. You’re certain if you made a fuss, he’d let you go. You can’t find the motivation to do so. The two of you are exhausted, for reasons that differ and overlap. 
While you don’t reciprocate his embrace, you don’t try to wriggle out of it. This is reason enough for him to tighten his grip. 
… Indeed, he is acting rather spoiled. 
“Are you fed up with me?” He asks. 
“I’m slowly getting there.” 
You feel his chest rumble when he chuckles. “Bear with me just a while longer, then.” 
His lips brush over your forehead in a daring kiss. Your muscles go taut and your heart hammers hard enough that you can hear it. He allows himself to linger there a while longer, though he makes no attempts to repeat the act. Instead, he soaks in your presence, each second worth its weight in gold. 
“Giorno?”
He hums, showing you have his rapt attention. 
“About what you said earlier,” there’s a tremble in your voice you can’t hide, owing to the tightness in your throat, “I haven’t ever hated you. I… I don’t think I can.” 
His breath hitches. 
“But… I do know I can’t love you the way I used to either.” 
“Do you want to?”  
“Sometimes.” 
“And that scares you, doesn’t it?” 
“... Yes.” 
Giorno knows you from the inside out. Everything you consist of, from your best to your worst qualities, he’s seen it all. If you ever broke, he could rebuild you again from memory alone. That’s why despite everything, being vulnerable around him comes naturally. Caring about him too, no matter how you try to twist your reasoning to make yourself feel better. Once you’ve given someone your heart, taking it back in its entirety is impossible, some pieces will remain in their possession. 
“It’s alright, no matter what conclusion you arrive at,” he decides. He buries his nose in the crown of your head. “So long as you’re alive and well, I can accept anything.” 
Much to his surprise, you rest your head against his chest, the strength to hold yourself upright steadily draining. He readjusts his hold to ensure you’re as comfortable as you can be. 
“It must be sad, thinking the way you do.” 
From how little a reaction he gives, you almost think he didn’t hear you. 
“A little,” he admits after a thoughtful pause. “Being without you, though… that’d be far, far worse.” 
If reentry to the Garden is denied, then he’ll replicate its beauty to give the impression you never left. 
418 notes · View notes
Dio Brando ( Part 1 ) Relationship headcanon
Tumblr media
Relationship with Dio?
Oh boys.
Dio would be a really demanding and possessive boyfriend.
He really needs normal love and attention.
But he is not really aware of it himself.
Or really know how to say their needs out loud.
You probably met each other as children.
Because of this, Dio has some kind of trust in you.
He doesn't trust many people.
In short, Dio's world of thought goes like this: First come his needs, then come your needs, and he really doesn't give a fuck about other people's needs.
Dio likes it when you listen to him talk.
He would talk to you a lot.
Dio thinks it's because you admire him.
You really don't want to interrupt him because you know Dio would be angry.
An angry Dio is not a good thing.
Lots of talk about how strong he has become and how much better he is than Jonathan.
Don't worry you have it easy. Part 3 Dio is an even worse narcissist.
Dio would be the jealous type really easily.
Do not show empathy or interest in others.
Especially not Jonathan.
Yes, Dio is genuinely angry that you tried to help Jonathan who fell down the stairs because of Dio.
Dio thinks you should have complimented him on how he "accidentally" pushed Jonathan.
This man lacks almost all empathy.
You are also always the one who apologizes.
Dio doesn't really know how to do it and has no interest in learning it.
In general, Dio is a fan of public PDA.
Privately, however, he finds it difficult to show affection.
Unless it's somehow sexual.
Chances are Dio wouldn't turn you into a vampire right away.
He wants to enjoy the new power dynamic.
However, this waiting is his fate.
599 notes · View notes
Note
hello, if request still open, can you do the stardust crusaders team with reader who has a powerful stand but the opposite is, they have a poor health. reader is very stubborn and constantly overdoing their power resulting them to passed out
Stardust Crusaders with gn! Reader who's a powerful standuser, but have poor health and can pass out from overdoing their power
Warnings: gn! reader, sickness, fainting, poor health, medications (kinda forced), slight swearing
Notes: Kind of experimented with Jean Pierre on this one, so it may seem like some kind of drabble lol
Noriaki Kakyoin
Tumblr media
Listen, he respects your and your power, he finds it really useful
But for you overworking yourself?
He doesn't like it AT ALL
Yeah, sure, he can understand your feelings and motives, he wants to help the team as much as he can too
But not to such extent
Together with Avdol, he is trying to find a way for you to use your stand in a safer way
In battle, he often has to back you up with Hierophant Green
He tries to make sure you don't have to push yourself to the limit, but he doesn't always succeed
So when you pass out, he's most likely to pick you up and put you to rest
I don't know if he's a good in cooking, but he'll try to bring you everything you need after you passing out: water, food, etc.
Even though he will scold you for overworking yourself like that, he praises you for your strength and courage
Muhammad Avdol
Tumblr media
Much like Noriaki, he respects your power, but doesn't like when you treat yourself like this
As I listed above, he'll try to figure out more safer way of using your stand with Noriaki
Them brainstorming in figuring it out-
I don't think that he can back you up in battle, but he'll try to not let you overuse your stand for sure
Idk, I think he's quite a good cook, so he can make some food real quick so you can regain your strength
He tries to do it for the rest of the team too though (my headcanons time)
He's not like Kakyoin, he won't scold you, he'll tell you a whole lecture about safety and that you put yourself in danger by those actions
But he's doing it because he really cares about you
Also I think he'll try to understand why you are doing this more deeply. Is there a reason why you don't care about your own health? Is it deeper than it seems?
If you don't want to talk about it that's okay! But he'll try to help you out if you tell him your reasons
Jean Pierre Polnareff
Tumblr media
His first reaction to your stand was surprise, followed by interest
He wanted to learn more about your stand's abilities, so in battle, he also kept an eye on your actions
He was really impressed by not only your stands power, but also your courage and bravery. Your stand was just right for your fighting spirit!
But after some time he noticed that you were beginning to weaken. Sure, your stand gained power and speed, but it was visible that you were barely standing on your feet
When you ignored his cry that he could handle the enemy himself, he got kind of frustrated, but also concerned. What's gotten into you? Are you always like this?
Thankfully you passed out at the end of the fight, but Polnareff was still freaked out
Why'd you do that? If you just handled the situation to him you most likely wouldn't pass out
After that, he had to conduct a full-fledged interrogation with you, where he asked you all the questions that worried him
When he got the information he needed, he started to keep an eye on you, so when he sees you're close to passing out he'll just put you out of the fight or get the enemy away from you
Nah, he won't let you pass out bacause you're such a stubborn idiot/lh
Also when he found out that you have a bad health, he'll half-jokingly offer you a vacation at the French village where he comes from, it will definitely help you with your health condition
But seriously he'll offer you staying at his house so you can rest and get some fresh air
Jotaro Kujo
Tumblr media
You annoy him
Everyone annoys him tbh
But he is specifically annoyed by your tendency to overwork yourself
It kind of reminds him of his mother- she always works above her limits too
He's irritated every time you pass out when you're fighting a standuser. At this point he knows that fighting alongside you= him carrying you out in the end
At least you leave the enemy beated down enough for him to finish them
Deep down he's concerned about you, but this edgy teen won't let it show, nah, no way it'll happen
The maximum way this will manifest itself is dragging you to a safe place and throwing a flask of water in your face when you wake up
He's going to be so scowl about it, so DON'T EVEN THINK about teasing him about it
Joseph Joestar
Tumblr media
You also remind him of Holly
Despite acting jokingly and a little insensitive about you fainting, he's actually really concerned
Old man can't express his emotions properly, just say you're worried damn it 💀💀
If you need any medication, he will try to get it and make sure you take it
Otherwise he'll try to put it in your food (no ill intent, he sees it as the only way)
Sometime during the adventure you'll have kind of parent-child conversation
He'll try to make the atmosphere kinda chill and let you went about you overusing your stand and putting yourself in danger
He wants to know your reasons so he can give you some advices maybe
OKAY OKAY, I SUDDENLY HAVE AN IDEA HEAR ME OUT
Joseph trying to teach you hamon to treat your poor health-
Iggy
Tumblr media
He's kind of intimidated by your power, but obviously won't show it
Also won't show that he cares about you, just like for anyone on your team
"What an idiot..."
Proceeds to go apeshit on anyone who tries to hurt you when you're unconscious
603 notes · View notes