I'm a simp for fiction

I'm 23 years old. I use They/Them pronouns, but you can call me the pronouns you prefer

[hopelesslydevotedtotoji]

I'm 23 y/o. I prefer to use They/them pronouns, but I don't mind if you use She or he pronouns if you talk to me 🤗

This Tumblr was created with the intention of liking, following, and reblogging content

If you don't like me interacting with you're blog, please tell me and I'll everything to stop it

I like the fandoms of JKK, BNHA, Tokyo Revengers, etc; so you will find related content

[rawme-price]

Cannibal!ghost picking out the best cut from his freezer when he brings you up from the cellar, caught fresh two nights ago just for you.

You get to sit at the dinner table while he cooks, not in the kitchen after the last incident. Still, you can hear the sizzle of meat when he presses it into the hot pan. He always cooks it properly for you, nothing like the quick bites of meat only cooked long enough to be safe like he usually eats.

The juice from the meat drips down the calloused fingers that press against your lip. Each soft piece hand-fed to you while ghost makes a pleased sound in the back of his throat. It tastes like heaven compared to your usual.

You make a show of enjoying the meal, of licking ghosts hand clean then begging for more. Even when he cooks the meat rare, so rare it drips blood down your chin, you eat it.

Ghost says you look best hungry. You think you look best alive. The result is the same either way.

[pyrogina]

im fuckin crine he DID IT!!!! 😭

[arminslutss]

Bruno Bucciarati, who loves using his stand to unzip your clothes in the most unconventional places. He has never used Sticky Fingers like this before you, but now that he has, he’s addicted.

Under the table, he’ll unzip a hole in the crotch of your pants, reaching in to massage your cunt and watch as you struggle to keep a straight face. It’s so much easier to play with you without having to get through the tight band of your jeans, which makes the shenanigans obvious. Bruno will make you cum before fixing the zip with his stand.

Okay I wanted to try a small drabble of this idea but I definitely will write a longer version, I love this.

[door2hevn]

Hiiii I want to say thank you so much for writing so many lovely stuff for us I feel like we are being spoiled and I hope you don't push yourself too hard on writing a lot! I get really excited when HP is included in your writings ⸜(｡˃ ᵕ ˂ )⸝♡

I do have a request if you're taking them, may I request part 7 characters reacting to reader asking "can I pet?" but everyone else assumes they meant their horses not themselves XD

✿˚｡⋆ can I pet? ⋆｡˚✿

♡‧₊˚✦ Pairing ✦˚₊‧♡: Johnny Joestar, Diego Brando, hot pants, mountain Tim x gn reader

A/n: LMAOO THIS IS ADORABLE EJJEEIEK YAAA ALSO UR THE SWEETEST EVER THANK YOU SO MUCH FOR THIS MESSAGE ITS ADORABLE

Johnny Joestar.

The afternoon sun was brutal, and the camp had finally quieted down. Johnny was sitting on a crate, meticulously checking Slow Dancer’s front hooves for any trapped stones.

He looked exhausted, his signature knit cap pushed back slightly on his forehead, a rare moment of stillness for him.

You walked up to him, hands tucked behind your back, shifting your weight from side to side. "Hey, Johnny?"

He didn’t look up immediately, gently patting Slow Dancer’s leg before finally glancing at you, blue eyes squinting against the glare. "Yeah? What's up?"

"I have a question," you started, giving him a soft, expectant look. "Can I pet?"

Johnny blinked, his expression instantly softening into something almost proud. He looked over at Slow Dancer, who let out a soft huff. "Oh. Yeah, sure. Just be gentle around her ears, she’s a bit finicky today because of the heat. Start with her muzzle so she knows you're-"

Before he could finish the sentence, you took a step forward, completely bypassing the massive appaloosa horse.

Instead, you reached out and placed your hand right on top of Johnny’s head, right over his star patterned cap, and gently ruffled his hair.

Johnny froze entirely, The words died in his throat. His hands, still holding a hoof pick, hovered in mid air.

He stared straight ahead at your midsection, his jaw slightly slack, trying to process the physical sensation of a hand petting his hair like he was a prize winning retriever.

"Uh" Johnny choked out, his face rapidly turning the color of a ripe tomato. He didn't pull away mostly because he was too stunned to move but his hands began to twitch awkwardly. "What... what are you doing?"

"Petting" you said simply, giving his hair one last affectionate stroke before pulling your hand back.

"I thought you meant the horse!" Johnny hissed, his voice cracking slightly as he pulled his cap down over his burning face, though his eyes were still glued to you in utter bewilderment.

"Why would you phrase it like that?! You can't just walk up to a guy and ask to pet him! My heart almost stopped!"

Slow Dancer let out a loud snort, almost as if she were laughing at him. Johnny glared at the horse, then back at you, muttering under his breath about "weird city folks" while secretly fixing his hair so it perfectly aligned with where your hand just was.

⋅˚₊‧ ୨୧ ‧₊˚ ⋅ ⋅˚₊‧ ୨୧ ‧₊˚ ⋅ ⋅˚₊‧ ୨୧ ‧₊˚ ⋅ ⋅˚₊‧ ୨୧ ‧₊˚ ⋅ ⋅˚₊‧୨

Diego Brando.

Diego was leaning against a wooden fence, watching Silver Bullet graze. He had an apple in his hand, slicing off small pieces with a pocketknife and flipping them into his mouth with practiced, lethal precision. He looked dangerous, sharp, and entirely unapproachable.

You approached him anyway. "Diego."

He shifted his gaze to you, his reptilian-blue eyes tracking your movement coldly. "What?"

"Can I pet?"

Diego’s eyes flicked over to Silver Bullet, then back to you. A smug arrogant smirk tugged at the corner of his lips.

He figured you were just another person captivated by his equestrian prowess, trying to get close to his world.

"Fine" he sneered softly, slipping his knife away. "But keep it brief. Silver Bullet doesn't tolerate clumsy hands, and frankly, neither do I Don't make any sudden movements or he'll-"

You took a decisive step forward, reached up, and patted Diego right on his blue jockey cap.

When he didn't immediately strike you down, you slid your hand down slightly to scratch the back of his neck, right at the hairline.

Diego froze. The smug smirk vanished instantly. A low, involuntary sound almost like a sharp intake of breath, or a very faint, reptilian hiss escaped his throat.

His entire body went rigid, his pupils shrinking into tiny slits as his demeanor completely shattered into pure, unadulterated shock.

"What the hell do you think you're doing?" Diego growled, though the threat was completely ruined by the fact that he hadn't pulled away, his body seemingly paralyzed by the sheer audacity of the action.

"I asked if I could pet," you reminded him gently.

Diego’s face flushed a sharp, angry crimson. He finally snapped out of it, swatting your hand away, though his grip on your wrist was surprisingly careful.

"I thought you meant the horse, you idiot!" he hissed, his teeth bared in a defensive, embarrassed snarl. "You don't just... handle me like an animal! I am Diego Brando! I am not a-"

He broke off, looking away quickly as he wiped the back of his neck where your hand had just been, his chest heaving slightly.

He muttered something furious under his breath about "disrespectful peasants" but for the rest of the day, his eyes kept darting back to your hands wondering if you were going to try it again.

⋅˚₊‧ ୨୧ ‧₊˚ ⋅ ⋅˚₊‧ ୨୧ ‧₊˚ ⋅ ⋅˚₊‧ ୨୧ ‧₊˚ ⋅ ⋅˚₊‧ ୨୧ ‧₊˚ ⋅ ⋅˚₊‧୨

Hot pants.

The campsite was quiet, save for the crackle of the dying fire. Hot Pants was seated on a log, meticulously cleaning her tack and checking the straps on her saddle.

She was as always a picture of intense focus rigid posture, sharp eyes, and an aura that practically screamed leave me alone.

You, however, ignored the warning signs and walked right up to her. "Hey, Hot Pants?"

She didn't stop wiping down the leather, only giving you a cool, sidelong glance from beneath her pink hood.

"If you're looking for Johnny or Gyro, they went to scout ahead. If you need something else, make it quick."

"Actually, I wanted to ask you something," you said, stepping a little closer. "Can I pet?"

Hot Pants paused her cloth. She looked over at her horse, resting quietly a few feet away, then back at you

A faint, almost imperceptible softening touched her features, replaced quickly by her usual stern expression. She let out a quiet sigh.

"I suppose" she murmured, turning back to her work. "She's had a long run today, so keep your movements slow. Don't startle her from behind. Just a few pats on the neck will do."

"Great, thanks," you said.

Instead of turning toward the horse, you took one final step toward Hot Pants. Before she could register your proximity

you reached out and placed your hand firmly on top of her head, right over the soft fabric of her pink hood. You gave her two neat, affectionate pats smoothing the fabric down.

Hot Pants went entirely structural. It was as if her spine had suddenly turned to solid marble.

The cloth slipped from her hand, falling into the dirt. Her eyes widened to the size of saucers, staring blankly at the horse saddle in front of her.

For a terrifying three seconds, she didn't even breathe. Her mind raced through a thousand worst case scenarios

"What..." Hot Pants started, her voice a strained, breathless whisper. She slowly looked up at you, her face rapidly flushing a deep, dramatic pink that perfectly matched her attire. "What are you doing? Move your hand."

You pulled your hand back, smiling innocently. "Just petting."

"I am not the horse!" she practically choked out, scrambling backward off the log so fast she nearly tripped over her own boots.

She clutched the front of her hood, pulling it down as far as it would go to hide the furious blush spreading down her neck. "Why would you why would anyone assume 'can I pet' applies to a human being?!"

"You said yes," you pointed out.

"To the animal! To the equine!" Hot Pants hissed, her usual cold composure completely shattered into panicked, embarrassed fluster. She looked around the camp frantically

as if praying Johnny and Gyro hadn't witnessed the utter undignified spectacle. She pointed a trembling, defensive finger at you. "Do not do that again. Ever. It is... highly inappropriate! And weird! Go pet a dog!"

She aggressively snatched her cleaning cloth out of the dirt and turned her back to you, scrubbing the saddle with ten times more force than necessary.

But beneath her hood, her ears were burning, and she couldn't stop the bizarre, fluttering confusion in her chest from a simple gentle touch she hadn't expected.

⋅˚₊‧ ୨୧ ‧₊˚ ⋅ ⋅˚₊‧ ୨୧ ‧₊˚ ⋅ ⋅˚₊‧ ୨୧ ‧₊˚ ⋅ ⋅˚₊‧ ୨୧ ‧₊˚ ⋅ ⋅˚₊‧

Mountain Tim.

The evening wind was blowing softly across the plains, and Mountain Tim was leaning casually against a wooden post, looking like a painting of the perfect cowboy.

He was lazily twirling a piece of rope around his fingers, his eyes fixed on the horizon, his signature Stetson hat tilted just low enough to look effortlessly cool.

You walked over, the grass crunching beneath your boots. He noticed you immediately, shifting his weight and offering you a warm, slow, incredibly charming smile.

"Evening" Tim murmured, his deep voice smooth as molasses. "Beautiful night out here, isn't it? Something I can help you with?"

"Yeah, actually" you said, stepping right into his personal space. "Can I pet?"

Tim’s smile widened just a fraction, a twinkle of amusement in his eyes.

He glanced over at his horse, Ghost Rider, who was tied up nearby. He figured you were just looking for a bit of comfort after a long day on the trail.

"Well now, you don't even have to ask," Tim said softly, tipping his hat up slightly with one finger. "Ghost Rider is a gentle soul. He likes a good scratch right behind the ears. Go on ahead, take your time."

"Thanks" you said.

You didn't look at Ghost Rider. You didn't even tilt your head toward the horse.

Instead, you reached up, completely bypassed the brim of Tim's Stetson, and placed your hand right on top of his head. Because of the hat, you ended up softly patting the crown of his cowboy hat, before sliding your hand down to gently ruffle the exposed hair at the back of his neck, giving him a few soft, affectionate strokes.

The rope in Tim's hands immediately went slack, slipping through his fingers and falling into the grass.

The smooth, charming cowboy completely evaporated. Tim froze, his eyes staring straight ahead, wide with absolute, unadulterated shock.

A bright, unmistakable crimson flush crept up from his collar, rushing all the way to the tips of his ears.

"I..." Tim choked out, his voice dropping its smooth cadence entirely and cracking on the vowel. He stood there, completely paralyzed by your hand in his hair, looking like a deer caught in the headlights of a train that hadn't even been invented yet.

"You're very soft," you remarked, pulling your hand back.

Tim clapped a hand over the back of his neck where your fingers had just been, his face burning hot.

He stumbled back half a step, completely losing his footing for a second before catching himself against the post. He looked at you, then at his horse, then back at you, his chest heaving as he tried to find his words.

"Ma'am uh, sir- friend-" Tim stuttered, his silver tongue completely failing him. He cleared his throat aggressively, trying to pull his cowboy composure back together like a man frantically gathering spilled playing cards. "I... I plum thought you meant the horse. A gentleman doesn't usually... folk don't just walk up and... and pet a lawman!"

"You said I didn't even have to ask," you reminded him with a grin.

Tim buried his face in his hands, letting out a long, defeated groan that sounded half like a laugh and half like pure embarrassment.

"Lord have mercy," he muttered into his palms, his shoulders shaking. "You're gonna be the death of me on this trail. If Johnny or Gyro saw that, I'd never hear the end of it."

He finally looked back up, pulling his hat down low over his eyes to hide his lingering blush, but he couldn't hide the helpless, flustered smile tugging at his lips.

[podkadottie]

⎯ forcing your boyfriend jotaro to play tomodachi life with you ! ꒰ part 2! ꒱

"jotarooo!" you exclaim happily, running to your boyfriend who is currently sitting in his room, trying to finish a very important essay that is due tomorrow.

jotaro lets out a small 'ouf' as you plop yourself in his lap, your pink switch in hand and a bright smile on your face.

"look! i finally got tomodachi life!" you chirp, lifting your switch to show him your island. jotaro's eyes narrow as leans towards the screen, trying to understand what it is you're showing him. his hands drop the pen he was holding and unconsciously drift around your waist. he pulls you closer to his chest to sit you up.

"what exactly am i looking at?"

"it's my island in the game," you explain, moving around a bit until you reach your home. "look at my mii! isn't she cute? she looks just like me!"

"your what now?" he lifts an eyebrow and shoots you a confused look.

"that's what avatars are called in this game. you can customize their voices, draw on their hair and faces and dress them up to look like you," you lean back on his chest to get comfortable.

"hmm, i see. it does look like you," he mentions, watching the screen as your mii walks out of its house and towards the beach.

you chuckle. "glad you think so. i spent all morning on this."

"oh, so that's what you've been doing all day," he leans in and presses a small kiss on the spot between your neck and shoulder. "and i was wondering what could've had my girlfriend so invested in this thing."

"you can play too if you want. i can make you your own mii," you turn around in his embrace to face him, looking up at him with those eyes you know he can't resist.

"uhm, yeah... why not..."

"wow... y/n is so beautiful! my heart races just at the thought of her. is this... love?"

"is he stupid?" jotaro grumbles as he stares at his mii, his eyes full of disappointment. you spent a lot of time to make his mii, drawing on his sharp eyebrows, his high cheekbones and hair. of course you couldn't forget his hat, of which escaped a singular dark, unruly curl.

you curl up by his side and furrow your brows. "what? don't you love me?"

he huffs. "that's not what i meant," he mumbles. "this guy literally just bumped into you and is already in love with you."

"oh, yes, i tend to be that irresistible." jotaro slowly turns to you and furrows his eyebrows. "c'mon, humor me, will ya?" you purse your lips and lift your mii up.

jotaro's mii looks up at yours and it starts jumping up, trying to reach its crush. you giggle and move your mii around some more, watching jotaro's run around and chase after it.

"this is ridiculous," jotaro sighs.

you finally place your mii on a bench next to the seafront. jotaro's immediately follows it and sits next to it, its cheeks blushing.

you look at your relationship status at the top left of your screen. the arrow pointing from your mii says ultra friends, while the one from jotaro's mii writes ready to risk it all.

"oop just got friendzoned," you poke his arm and he rolls his eyes.

"with the way this thing is behaving, i would friendzone it too."

a/n: i felt like using the pink theme one last time for this. also, if there are any errors regarding the format or the way you play the game, it's because i haven't actually played it. i survive off of vtuber streams ≧ ﹏ ≦

[podkadottie]

hihi,, can i rq reader wanting to practice their first kiss with jotaro under the guise of like,, as friends?,, but they really like him and have been friends for a long time now since they were kids,,, thank you!!

(also cute profile theme,,,,,)

~🍰

୨୧ 𝐉𝐔𝐒𝐓 𝐅𝐑𝐈𝐄𝐍𝐃𝐒 . . . ━━ ( practicing your kissing with your best friend jotaro )

JOTARO's tongue shyly wraps around yours, and that's when your hands stop gripping his shirt and start pushing him away instead. your lips part with a subtle pop and you rush to wipe your mouth with the back of your hand.

"what the hell was that?" you scrunch your nose as you recall the slimy sensation.

jotaro doesn't pull back all the way, his face a few inches away from yours. "my tongue, stupid. you surely don't expect to just lock lips with him and stay still, right?" he snaps back.

you two have been doing this for way longer than you should've. it all started with a party invitation you unexpectedly got from a guy you've barely ever talked to but who always stares and sits close to you during lectures. you might've never been to a college party before, but you for sure weren't born yesterday. you understood the clear implications of that invitation.

one week has passed since then and the party is tomorrow night. you had almost completely made up your mind to stand the guy up and stay in. he wouldn't even notice if you didn't show up.

well, that was until jotaro came over.

you were certain that guy was gonna try something with you at that party. well, frat parties are all the same anyway—if he doesn't, some other hot guy who's too drunk to see who he's kissing will. you weren't gonna miss the opportunity to make out with someone way out of your league.

but... you've never kissed anyone before.

if only there was a very attractive, smart and helpful young man with more experience than you in that field who you also happen to have a massive crush on since middle school and was also willing to let you practice your kissing on him...

you kept batting your eyelashes at jotaro until he got fed up and eventually agreed to be your test subject.

now it's been, what? thirty minutes? an hour? you don't even know anymore. your lips are swollen and the glittery lipgloss you were wearing because you knew jotaro was coming over has long gone been smeared away by his lips.

"you need to loosen up. anyone will be able to tell if you're nervous while kissing them," he says. his voice has gotten a bit hoarse, but you brush it off as annoyance.

"well, that's easy for you to say. you have experience," you murmur, turning your head towards the open window, hoping that a gust of wind would be enough to cool you off.

as much as you tried to ignore it, you just can't. you've been friends with jotaro for years, you've done everything together. he would comfort you every time you scraped your knees, listen to you yap on and on about the boys that you liked and the friends that you hate, hell, he was the first person you ran to when you got your first period and he helped you without even knowing anything himself.

but since when does he have experience? and why didn't he tell you anything?

jotaro's voice breaks through your thoughts. "you're the one who asked me to teach you," he says, finally leaning away from you to rest his back the wall beside your bed. "don't freak out."

"i'm not freaking out!"

your best friend just looks at you sideways, raising his right eyebrow.

you let out a breath. "fine, i am freaking out. just a little bit."

your words make jotaro sit up on the floor, his eyes softening slightly. "look- just... stay still." he leans in again, lifting his hand for his fingertips to ever so slightly touch the tips of your ears. he sucks in a final beath before closing the gap between you once again.

his lips move slowly against yours, giving you some time to adjust before his hand got bolder, tilting your chin upwards and deepening the kiss.

he tries to avoid using his tongue, but a soft, involuntary sound escapes you and your mouth slightly opens, leading to jotaro's tongue sliding inside.

you wince and jotaro breaks the kiss, but before he can open his mouth to say anything, you put your hands behind his neck and pull him close to you again. jotaro made a low, muffled sound of surprise in the back of his throat. his other hand, the one that wasn't absentmindedly running up and down your jawline, came to rest on your hip.

his fingers grip the soft fabric of your skirt and you can tell he's fighting not to let it wander lower, towards the plush of your thigh.

when you finally pulled back just an inch, you noticed the red tips of his ears and his heavy breaths. you could also feel heat blooming up your neck and across your cheeks.

"satisfied now? you've been complaining all evening," you chuckle breathlessly.

"can i tell you something?" jotaro breathes, completely ignoring your comment and still not giving you enough space to breathe after that intense kiss.

"sure," you swallow. your heart is hammering against your ribcage so hard that you're sure jotaro can hear it.

"i lied. i don't- hah..." he tips his hat over his eyes, "i don't actually have experience. i've never kissed anyone before."

your breath catches somewhere in your throat. "what do you mean? why would you lie ab-" you don't get to finish your sentence before he cuts you off.

"maybe because i just... wanted to kiss you," his voice has an irritated tone as he finally leans all the way back. you can tell it's not aimed at you, but rather at himself. "god, what am i even saying right now," he mutters to himself.

"do you think it's... that ridiculous?" you inch closer to him, the bedding ruffling under your movements. "what if i told you that i wanted to kiss you too?"

you hesitantly lift your arms and reach for his face, feeling his soft curls as you turn his head to face you. "you're pretty good for someone with no experience though. you sure had me fooled."

jotaro snorts. "you're alright too, i guess."

"alright?! just alright? i feel like i might've to show you how good i am one more time," you tease and place a hand on his hard chest, slowly pushing him down on the bed.

"on second thought, i don't really want you to go to that party," he groans.

a/n: really hope this isn't cringe omg anyways

[podkadottie]

୨୧ 𝐍𝐒𝐅𝐖 𝐇𝐄𝐀𝐃𝐂𝐀𝐍𝐎𝐍𝐒 with the buccigang ! ꒰ masterlist here. ꒱

𑣲 bruno bucciarati . . . - he likes positions where you are most comfortable in and he can clearly see you, so most of the time you end up in a deep mating press, your knees bent all the way and pressed flush against your chest as he pounds into you. - he's not extremely vocal in bed. the best you will get from him are quickened breaths and sometimes a moan or two as he cums. - on the rare occasion you suggest to be on top, he will hold your breasts for you as you bounce on his cock, because he remembers you telling him that it hurts when you go too fast. - very into belly bulges. he slides out and then in again in an agonizingly slow pace, two of his long fingers pressing down on your lower tummy, feeling his cock inside you. 𑣲 leone abbacchio . . . - he sometimes uses the cuffs he has kept from his officer days to bind your hands to the bedframe. he's not opposed to putting on his police hat too if you ask him. - he is often too lazy to eat you out, but when he does, he makes sure your legs keep shaking through it. - likes slapping your pussy right after you orgasm just to overstimulate you, looking up at you from between your legs with a mean smirk. - he closes his eyes and furrows his eyebrows while cumming, almost like he's in pain. - he likes it when you scartch his back while he's ramming into you. he spends a while in the bathroom the next morning, just staring at all the pinkish scars and running his fingertips over the rough edges. - he doesn't give a rat's ass if you shave or not. bald, trimmed, whole ass bush, pussy is still pussy, especially if it's yours we're talking about. 𑣲 guido mista . . . - this man does not shave. he is a loud and proud happy trail owner. he would trim it down and keep it neat if you asked him to (but he knows that you like it). - has a nasty ass mouth. he talks a lot during sex, whether it's dirty talking while a lazy smile rests on his lips, faux sympathy, or even just random rambling. - he kinda gets turned on when he sees you angry. it could be about a completely irrelevant reason, but while you're angrily talking to him about what got you so mad, he just watches with his head proped up on his fist thinking about how he's gonna fuck it all out of you later. - he's all in letting you top if you ask him. he likes it when you roughly throw him on the bed and climb on top of him. 𑣲 giorno giovanna . . . - he makes all kinds of pretty noises. he also likes to chant your name when he's overstimulated or about to cum. - he lets his hair down most of the time, almost like creating a curtain between the two of you and the rest of the world. if he wants to eat you out, he will tie it up. - being the don is a very stressful job. sometimes he can't wait until you're both home and he'll bend you over his desk to take you right there. - he's not into anything that requires you getting on your knees. even though he likes looming over you and feeling bigger, it should never be at your expense / 'humiliation', as he puts it. he just wants to be close to you. 𑣲 narancia ghirga . . . - all he wants to do is please you. whenever you want it, wherever you want it, however you want it, he's down. - he's loud as fuck every time. high-pitched moans, whimpering and tons pleads fall from his lips when you stroke his cock through his open zipper. he has even cried a couple of times. - he's very shy the first few times you do it, and he still is, but as he gets closer and closer to an orgasm, he gets more bold, roughly thrusting his hips upward to meet yours and sqeezing your tits. - he's very energetic and has a pretty high sex drive, so he wants to do it all the time. he's too embarrassed to ask you to do it though.

a/n: FUGO PART HERE!!!

[girlboybug]

Dark but Just a Game

His breath is hot against the nape of your sweat sheened neck, his hand resting in a hotter, tighter grip around the front base of your throat. His low, almost pained groans fall into your ear like the stream of a lazy river, ever present and melodic in an urgent rhythm. 

His hips match the same urgent but deliberate tempo, rushed but thoughtful, primal yet purposeful. He’s fucking into you with no restraint, nearly folding you in half with your ass flush against his hipbones and cock buried in you beyond the hilt, stuffing you full of him. He fucks you like it’s a necessary evil, a means to an end that will never come. Almost believing that if he takes as much as he can from you now, he won’t ever have to crawl back into your arms or between your legs ever again. But you both know that won’t ever be the case. At least not any time soon. 

He hates needing you as much as he does, which is at all. He hates how you make his cock rock hard and drool with pre just from catching a whiff of your perfume out in the wild, or how something as simple as seeing your favorite color somewhere makes the blood rush to his cock like a knee jerk reaction. Anything that has to do with you leaves him feeling stuck in some kind of haze inducing whirlwind, it's infuriating.

Nothing feels innocent anymore, not when his brain is a landfill full of lewd depravity. He hates that he can't seem to just be normal, that seeing your favorite color does nothing but remind him of the way you look sprawled out in his bed, adorned in nothing but his favorite pair of panties that you only seem to wear when you haven't seen him in awhile. He views the sight as if it were a special, unspoken treat for him and him only.

But what he really loves about it is how your arousal always seems to soak through the crotch of your panties and splotch over the gusset, making it a shade darker than the rest of the material. He thinks that it’s quickly becoming his secret favorite color.

And he's aware of how fucked up that is, how fucked up it all is - and that he should be disgusted with himself, revolted that he’s taking advantage of a girl as young as you. You're damn near walking jailbait. A girl as young as his daughter. A college girl with her life ahead of her, a girl who shouldn’t be anywhere near a man like him. 

But he can’t bring himself to hold back, no matter how much everything in him tells him that he should. He can't ever seem to pull away from you, especially not now, while you're gripping onto the forearm he has locked under your breasts while he fucks you from behind. You're squeezing his toned arm with your soft hands for dear life, holding onto him like he’s your anchor of safety when he’s anything but. 

The way you press yourself back up against him drives him crazy, as if the millisecond of him pulling out just to thrust right back in is a millisecond too long for you to bear without being fully impaled on his cock. The way you need him is a new type of addiction he doesn’t think he’ll ever be able to kick. 

And when he slips his hand from under your breasts and down between your sticky thighs to rub your clit, he chuckles a dark and lazy laugh into your neck. He’s breathless as he kisses the glistening skin there, feeling you gasp and tense up in his arms from the way he’s toying with your clit.

“Watch.” is all he says into the warm crevice of your shoulder, placing another kiss upon the skin there before he grabs your jaw and points your gaze up towards the bathroom mirror, slamming hard into you just to watch your face contort and brows draw up so prettily, bitten lips dropping open with a drawn out whimper. 

“I love you,” you cry, nearly sobbing on his cock, babbling what he considers to be nonsense as he fucks you. His teeth fall hard into each other, his hand trembling imperceptibly between your grinding thighs. He’s quick to recover and continues rubbing your little clit with mind numbing circles, trying his best to not be thrown off with your sudden declaration.

He doesn’t want to accept the possibility that you actually mean it, that you could feel anything for someone like him besides surface level lust. And he especially doesn’t want to acknowledge that he might feel anything beyond that either. 

So he doesn’t. He just grunts and bends you over completely into the sink, holding you tight and firm with one hand clamped shut over your mouth while the other circles hard over your clit. Your rising sounds lay muffled in his palm, your eyes squeezed shut as you lay there bent and nearly bred full of him, trying desperately to fuck yourself onto his pulsing cock.

“F-fuck,” he stutters, collapsing on top of you and swallowing your figure whole with his broad back curling over yours, shoving his cock as deep as it could possibly go inside you, pumping you full of his cum. He thrusts a few times, shallow and slow, using your tight cunt to milk himself of everything he’s got. 

Once he’s pulled out and cleaned the cum that came dribbling out your well used hole, he dresses you, gentle and delicate unlike the way he handled you only moments prior. Before he can say anything, or even pull you in close for a delicate embrace to counteract the way he had just ravaged you, something cuts him off.

“Babe? Where are you?” the voice belonging to your boyfriend calls out from a distance, blissfully ignorant to what you had just participated in. He’s barely audible with how far away he seems to be, but much to your dismay, you’re able to hear him loud and clear. You can hear the beckoning calls for your name, innocent and unaware, and you can feel the guilt begin to manifest itself inside your chest all over again.

The sound of his voice additionally triggers your awareness of how the already sensitive mood between you and the man looming above you has begun to grow sour and awkward, thick with something uncomfortably palpable. And that’s how you know it’s time to go.

So you do, begrudgingly of course. You sigh quietly, leaning up on your toes to press one last kiss to his cheek, your hand resting against his chest, pretending to not notice the way his heart hammers into your palm as you do so.

“I’ll see you later.” you whisper, before pushing past him to exit the bathroom and re-enter your best friend’s birthday party once more, leaving him alone and filled with the post clarity of accepting the fact that he just got done fucking his daughter’s best friend on her birthday.

Father of the year, isn’t he?

SUGURU GETO, Erwin Smith, Leon Kennedy, JOEL MILLER, Modelo!Yuji Itadori, Jean Kirstein, Satoru Gojo, JOSEPH JOESTAR, Jotaro Kujo, Jack Abbot, MICHAEL ROBINAVITCH, Ethan Winters, Mikey Berzatto, Reiner Braun, RICK GRIMES, Nanami Kento, Kakashi Hatake, Leone Abbacchio, Tangerine, Miche Zacharius, All Might, LEORIO PALADIKNIGHT, CHARLIE SWAN, and your favorite husband!

a/n : hiii i couldn’t stop listening to dark but just a game n out came this :P hope yall liked it <3

[sugar-nagazaki]

𝓙ojo 𝓑izarre 𝓐dventures | 𝓟/link – 𝓟art⁵

CW : 18+ MDNI; ALL THESE VIDEOS CONTAIN EXPLICIT VISUAL SEXUAL CONTENT.all of these are for fem!reader

All the characters are of legal age. English is not my first language, so there may be typos.

!¡ Links in the stars !¡

Part1-Part2-Part3-Part4

𝓖iorno 𝓖eovanna

★ Before a dinner with Passione, Don can't control himself.

★ Giorno fills you up until you overflow, he likes to watch while he spills.

★ Giorno is a sweetheart, but sometimes he can get a little naughty and spank you.

★ He's good at a lot of things, especially fucking you so well.

★ He'll bend you over and fuck you in any way possible.

𝓑runo 𝓑ucciarati

★ Being the leader of a gang like Passione is stressful, that's why you give him encouragement every morning.

★ Isn't it inappropriate for him to sleep with the waitress who always serves them at the restaurant?

★ Have you seen how he looks at you when you're on top? Bruno worships you like a goddess.

★ Having sex at sunrise is one of Bruno's favorite things to do during his days off.

★ Assembling it until it leaks and leaves a mess behind.

𝓛eone 𝓐bbachio

★ You asked him if he still had the handcuffs from when he was a police officer.

★ This has become routine. Before meeting the guys, Leone will fold you over on the kitchen table.

★ It's Abba's birthday, and as a gift you wear some cute black lingerie that he loves.

★ He's kind of rough when he's fucking you like that.

★ Showing him her new look. He loved it, actually, he's so sweet sometimes when he touches her body.

𝓟annacotta 𝓕ugo

★ Fugo is the worst person to make jealous because he always beats you up afterwards.

★ Poor Fugo, he's just a baby who needs affection.

★ He usually scolds you for being too lazy, even to get dressed, but since you're giving him a treat, he'll let it go.

★ Do you know what Fugo needs to relax after a stressful day? That's right! You sitting on his face!

★ Fugo is a needy little baby who needs a mommy.

𝓖uido 𝓜ista

★ Who cares if the guys are around? Mista definitely doesn't.

★ Guido eats you fiercely because he loves your taste.

★ He wants to peek under her bra.

★ Swinging on him, so excited.

★ The only number four that he likes.

𝓝arancia 𝓖hirga

★ He can't keep his hands off you when you rub against him like a bitch in heat.

★ Narancia is a bit dim-witted, but he learns quickly when it comes to you.

★ He gets embarrassed when you clean up the mess you helped him make.

★ Narancia is a talkative person, so you have to shut him up even if it ends up exciting him even more.

★ On the way back from a day at the amusement park, Narancia fucks you against a teddy bear he won for you.

𝓣rish 𝓤na

★ Trish can't contain herself, her pussy tastes so good she can't help but touch herself.

★ You ripped her designer tights, she's furious! So you better use that tongue of yours to calm your girlfriend down.

★ Sometimes she needs so much contact that there's no time to take her clothes off.

★ Birthday present, eating you by candlelight.

★ Trish is a spoiled brat, put her in her place.

𝓓oppio/𝓓iavolo

★ Diavolo will keep you as his favorite pet.

★ Diavolo fucking you hard against the mattress.

★ Diavolo thinks you look so beautiful like that, Doppio will deny it but he thinks so too.

★ Doppio is so sweet kissing and caressing you, Diavolo taught him how to please you.

★ Hold on tight and show him that life is more than just obeying the boss.

-extra-

✭ A night out with Leone and Bruno to celebrate a successful mission.

✭ The best birthday present Giorno and Trish could give you.

✭ Party with Passione

–

La esquadra

𝓡isotto

★ He arches your back almost painfully while fucking you hard.

★ Your skin is the canvas for Risotto's fine art.

★ Do you think you deserve his dick? He thinks that you shouldn't rub against his boot like the little dog you are.

★ Making you cry and choke.

★ There's no better birthday present than you all dressed up and tied up at his mercy.

𝓜elone

★ You want him to get you pregnant? Fine, he won't complain! After all, he's a pervert for that kind of thing.

★ He doesn't mind being in public! He'll make you orgasm even if you're stuck inside the car.

★ He traps you in unusual positions because he's a shameless pervert.

★ Making a slight mess that he loves

★ Melone is a fucking pervert, so it's no surprise that he likes to fuck you outdoors.

𝓖hiaccio

★ He finds it kind of annoying how wet you get, but he keeps going because he likes making you squirm.

★ Fucking you fast and hard on the couch at team headquarters.

★ A firm hand in your hair, making you tremble.

★ Ghiaccio keeps you on a leash like the sweet little dog you are.

★ Marking you all over so everyone knows you belong to him.

𝓟rosciutto

★ He's fucking you rough.

★ He finds it funny when you say it hurts.

★ He doesn't mind leaving you sore; in fact, it even seems like a good thing.

★ You leak so well.

★ Squeezing it between her fluffy thighs

𝓕ormaggio

★ Delicious licks

★ He loves the sight of his ass making a hot dog with him.

★ Using your stand to shrink a little and let you have fun

★ Nimble fingers slipping over panties.

𝓣lluso

★ Lazy blowjob

★ Trying to swallow it whole without choking.

★ He actually uses his language well.

★ Tearing her pantyhose and burying her face between her thighs.

★ Opening you up wide so it can slide in better.

-extra-

✭ You talk too much, so Illuso, Ghiaccio, Risotto, and Prosciutto gave you something to occupy your mouth.

✭ Risotto and Ghiaccio are punishing you for ruining a mission.

✭ Melone and Formaggio having fun with you

Finally finished, phew! 😮‍💨 Honestly, this one took a lot of work, it was supposed to be released earlier but I got super lazy, anyway, I hope you liked it.

Kisses, my little bats!

[bebegi]

˗ˏˋ ♡𝐚𝐛𝐛𝐚𝐜𝐜𝐡𝐢𝐨 𝐛𝐨𝐲𝐟𝐫𝐢𝐞𝐧𝐝 𝐭𝐞𝐱𝐭𝐬ˎˊ˗

𝐦𝐚𝐢𝐧 𝐦.𝐥𝐢𝐬𝐭 | 𝐯𝐞𝐧𝐭𝐨 𝐚𝐮𝐫𝐞𝐨 𝐦.𝐥𝐢𝐬𝐭

genre: daily texts | fluff

warnings: kys jokes and a couple of suggestive jokes.

requested: yes!!!

notes: ugh this man ugh

© bebegi 2024. do not crop the tag or claim it as yours in any way please, do not repost in other sites without asking for permission + credit, thanks !! reblogs are highly appreciated <3

[sonhogentil]

what’d she mean by that 🤔 missed the vtmb vampire lesbians so

pandora (girl with beanie) belongs to @napelf

[nataliedecorsair]

Lady werewolves? Zombie werewolves? Fighting winter werewolves? Yes, please. (I believe in werewolf women supremacy)

UPD - added the silly meme LOL More art on my Patreon: https://www.patreon.com/ndc1992

the werewolf woman in the post is my OC Raha, the “double cursed woman“

[nataliedecorsair]

Made a new meme lol

[f1nalb0y22]

You got too feisty

[valives]

correcting their postures on your first meeting

featuring: johnny, gyro, diego, hot pants

tags: during canon, humor, kinda meet-cute? inspired by this reel

JOHNNY is sitting on a crate near the stables, back curved, elbows on his knees, staring at the ground after another mental breakdown when you suddenly come to him with a piece of paper in your hands, unfolding it so he can see the simple yet crude drawing of a… shrimp on a wooden chair.

 With his exact posture.

Johnny blinks at it. Then at you. Then back at the shrimp.

 “…What the hell is that supposed to be?”

 You just point from the drawing to him, face unreadable.

 He scowls, but after a second he actually straightens. Out of all the names he has been called since his downfall, perhaps a shrimp might not be so bad.

   —

  GYRO is leaning against a tree with his usual dramatic slouch, spinning a steel ball in one hand. You approach him, silently hold up the shrimp drawing, and tap the paper. His eyes go wide. He looks at the shrimp, then back at his own posture before he bursts out laughing.

“Nyo-ho—! Wait, is that meant to be me?!”

He immediately over-corrects, puffing his chest out and striking an exaggerated perfect-posture pose, steel ball still in hand.

“Better? Have I stopped being sad little seafood?”

 You nod before walking away without so much as another word. Gyro already has his eyes on you, though. He’ll find a way to strike up a conversation later, grinning to himself.

 Needless to say, he’s mesmerized.

   —    DIEGO is sitting all prime and proper… until he has to slouch to adjust Silver Bullet’s reins and doesn’t really bother to straighten up from there. You walk up to him with your drawing in one hand, almost shoving it in his face.

His eyes twitch as the crease between his brows deepen like you just took years off his lifespan. Speedrunning through seven stages of grief before Diego grits his teeth at you, jaws tight.

“Did you just compare me to a fucking shrimp?”

You have the audacity to nod, even looking semi-proud about your artwork. Diego corrects his posture so fast it’s almost military, seething under his breath.

“I don’t know who the fuck you think you are, but you better have good skills to back up that smart mouth.”

Translation: I think you’re cute.

   —

  HOT PANTS sits on a low fence rail at a checkpoint as she quietly studies the map for the next stage. Back rounded, her head is quick to snap back up when you stop in front of her, a paper in your hand. Her eyes narrow cautiously when the paper is unfolded, revealing the drawing of a shrimp.

 You point to the image, then back to her. For a second, Hot Pants is in pure disbelief. Observing the sketch for a second, then glances down at her own posture.

 “…Ah.”

 She straightens slowly, a faint flush at the tips of her ears that matches her hair as she clears her throat.

 “Thank you.”

A small pause as she eyes you up and down.

“I suppose it’s not everyday that you come up to strangers with drawing of a seafood, correct…?”

You can see the small smile that peeks out.

the butch easy af 😭😭

🏷️: @manaribbons @sshikoyo @lovelacesonnette @batwngs @goodluckjane

[valives]

opening a calico critters blind bag together

featuring: johnny, gyro, diego, hot pants, lucy steel

tags: fem! reader, fluff, modern au, established relationship, platonic for lucy! ty @deigosh for the inspo and @justpeachyatprom for yapping with me ₍ᐢ..ᐢ₎♡

"Is that supposed to be an elephant?" JOHNNY stares at the chibi animals on the front of the pack, his eyes zeroing in one with a gigantic lemon headwear.

You grin and give the pack a few shakes. "Yep! Wanna test your luck?"

 He jerks his head away with a scowl, but you can tell that he's not actually mad. "Hard pass."

Still, Johnny chooses to stay with you as you tear the pack open, revealing  the tiny lemon elephant he just looked at.

 "Tada~" you place the tiny flocked animal in the palms of your hand, holding it out to Johnny. He plucks it between two fingers, muttering to himself.

“So the lemon is his entire costume…”

Your boyfriend then sets the figurine down, clearing his throat awkwardly.

“He’s…. cute, I’ll give him that.”

 An hour later, you find Johnny on the porch where he’s doodling the lemon elephant into his sketchbook.

 —

  “Please, please, please.” You’ve frankly never seen the Italian blonde as stressed as he is right now, hands knitted under his chin with his eyes shut, and all that’s in front of him on the table is a Calico Critters blind bag. “Please be the giraffe.”

“GYRO…”

“Bella!” You flinch as he suddenly grabs you by the arm and pulls you down on his lap. Giving the guy an unimpressed look, you relent with a sigh and reach for the pack, squeezing it a few times.

“I trust you to open it,” his arms encircle your waist from behind, head falling onto your left shoulder. You can’t help but smile at his dramatic whine. “You’re my Lady Luck!”

 And surely enough… what pops out of the pack is a cute giraffe with his tiny strawberry hat and strawberry overall.

Before you can react, Gyro lets out an excited gasp. The flocked animal almost falls from your hands as your boyfriend picks you up in his arms and starts spinning you around the kitchen in pure glee.

“I get it, put me down now!” You complain even as giggle bubbles in your throat, feeling his lips rain kisses down your face.

 “This little guy is adorable,” Gyro sighs in content, his stubble grazes your cheek as he presses a final kiss there. “Not as adorable as my girl though. I can’t wait to see what else we got~”

 Your smile slowly dies as you remember the sixty blind bags Gyro just hauled home today.

   —

   “C’mon,” you frown at DIEGO. “I thought you like gambling.”

 “Yes,” he rolls his eyes, sounding insufferable as always. “The type that makes me rich, not something that dumb me down to a toddler’s level.”

 “Dude honestly, just say you’re mad you kept getting duplicates of the same bunny.”

 “They were not the same bunny,” you almost laugh at how quickly he snaps, turning away with his arms crossed and the tip of his ears bright red. “One of them was a white cat.”

 “Yeah yeah, whatever.” You all but shove the pack into his face. Diego scoffs, giving it a few sharp flicks before he tears it open. A hamster with an orange crab headwear and a yellow bathrobe pops out.

 “Huh.” Diego blinks at the tiny animal.

 “Do you like it?”

 “He’s kind of ugly,” his eyes narrow as he turns the figurine over in his hand, running his thumb over the flocking once.

 “But he’s my child now.”

   —

  HOT PANTS watches you like she always does as you struggle with opening the surprise pack… mostly because you’re anxious at the fact that, again, she’s watching. Pouting a little as you turn away, she can’t help the wry curl of her lips.

“Something you want to show me, princess?”

“I just…” You trail off, staring down at the blind bag in your hands, then back up at her sheepishly. “I wanna get one with your color.”

Your girlfriend leans over, chin on top of your head as she gently squeezes your waist. “Where is it?”

 The pack crinkles as you tap at a tiny, cream-colored Labrador with dark bead eyes. The little guy has a dark blue and white striped shirt with a blue collar, a metallic pink vest adorned with small gold buttons, matching pink trousers, and a molded red rose pinned to his lapel.

“His name is Liam,” you mutter, feeling her hair tickles the side of your face. She lets out a small hum.

“Looks nice.”

“What if we don’t get him?” You nuzzle into Hot Pants’ chest as she strokes your hair.

“All of them look cute, I don’t mind.”

Both of her hands find yours, guiding you as you both open the pack together.

 Inside lies the tiny cream-colored puppy.

 You grin to yourself, turning the figurine in your palms over a few times before holding it up to her like an offering that Hot Pants takes, examining the tiny creature closely.

"How well-made," you feel the vibration of her voice against your ear. "Are these flocked?"

 "Mhm..." You wrap your arms around her waist, sighing into the crook of her neck. "I'm still finding something that matches your shade of pink."

 "You don't have to," she huffs a small laugh, pressing a kiss against your temple.

 "Get one with a wedding theme next time."

   —

  Practically beaming from the second you reveal the gift, LUCY STEEL can barely contain her excitement. Even the packaging is adorable! She spends almost thirty minutes staring at the characters on the front of the pack, flipping over to learn all of their names, even coming up with backstories for each of the critter. 

She tears the pack carefully, and when a tiny flocked white bunny finally tumbles out into her palm, Lucy lets out a soft, delighted gasp.

 “Oh…! Look at her. She’s so small… and soft. I love her pink dress!”

 Holding the little figurine up to the light, she stares at the tiny clothes and beady eyes with pure wonder.

 “It feels special… like a tiny friend.”

The girl cradles the white bunny gently in both hands, rubbing her cheek against it. “I’ll take very good care of her. Thank you!”

You end up bringing her to see the life-sized Calico Critters figures later.

🏷️: @manaribbons @sshikoyo @lovelacesonnette @batwngs @goodluckjane

[valives]

husband! gyro headcanons coming tonight if i have enough will to live

[valives]

landmine ft. johnny joestar

cw: yandere content, fem!reader, spoilers for johnny’s past, obsessive behaviors, modern and equestrian academy!AU (Stands still exist), tusk being a lil shit, suggestive, background y/n's harem stuff, potential manipulation? this was meant to be cute…

a/n: my slightly overdue contribution to the fandom ◡̈

"Hey.”

”Hey.”

..okay, judging by your still-in-place smile, Johnny can proudly conclude he did a better job in tidying up the apartment than whatever monstrosity Gyro committed to the air spray last week.

You switch to a pair of indoor slippers, organizing the shoe rack in the process (he’s thankful for that), while balancing a plate of freshly baked cookies in your other hand (he’s super thankful for that). Being spoiled so often with pastries and your lovely company, it’s hard for him not to get attached, even when Diego has and will always chew you out for it when your roommate comes home in the evening. 

These walls aren’t thick, and he definitely heard minor bickering downstairs: you huffing, Diego spilling petty insults he didn’t actually mean. It would always end with running water at the sink, where Johnny presumes you got that grumpy dinosaur to do the dishes while you dry, his complaints lasting all night.

Chumimi~in

Tusk ACT1 materializes before your hand even grazes the edge of the table and pulls out a chair for you to sit across from him. It lets out a cute squeal upon seeing the sweet-smelling treat on the table… and you. OR you. Eh, those two things became interchangeable long ago in the dusty recesses of his mind.

“Aww,” you coo as his Stand skips the plate and lunges straight at your face. Being the cute, tiny little pink… thing it is, Tusk just bumps against your nose. That draws another laugh out of your soft lips. “Hi there, little buddy~”

Great, not even two minutes into this hangout, and he is so close to popping a boner.

Attempting to diffuse the heat in his groin, the blond clears his throat. “Hello? I’m still here!”

“Ah, right. Sorry!” You stick your tongue out, and he scoffs playfully. Tusk has stopped loitering around your face at this point, instead sprawling on your left shoulder with seemingly no intention of going back to its user any time soon.

“So,” you push the plate towards him; the smell of caramelized apple instantly blesses Johnny’s nostrils. “what happened this morning? I heard something fall at, uh, 3AM?"

"Oh, that was—“ 

Johnny shoves one cookie into his mouth with unusual gusto and almost moans at the heavenly taste. God, just how big were the meteorites that cyan dinosaur must have stopped for an asshole like Diego to come home to a beautiful girl and a home-cooked meal every day? 

"—Gyro. He downed Robusta coffee before bed and woke up at midnight to deep clean the whole living room."

"And you just let him?" You try to reel your laugh in. Johnny sighs in response.

“It was way worse when you're not even five feet away from him. That dummy kept humming the stupid ass pizza cheese the entire time. I was so close to hitting him with a frying pan. "

"So the noise... "

“Ugh, I wish,” the blond rolls his eyes. “But he just tripped over a chair and lay there until sunrise.”

“Yeah, tell Gyro to walk it off.” You snicker. “It woke Dio up, and he almost barged up here to bite his head off.”  Chumimi~in  You should have moved on to lighter topics at this point, but Tusk chirps again, clearly agitated to not be the center of your attention for longer than three minutes. Wow, whoever this little shit took after must be so pathetic.  Your eyes go from him to his Stand, soft and indulgent. Petting Tusk’s head with your index finger, you giggle when it leans into your palm like a touch-starved house cat.

Johnny stiffens in his wheelchair.

By extension, you're practically petting him too.

But it's fine; he's fine. Even if the throb in his pants begs to differ, Johnny balls both of his hands into fists and grinds his teeth as you nuzzle your cheek against Tusk. He... he can smell your sunscreen and shampoo, bits of cinnamon, butter from this morning's baking session. The warmth of your soft skin makes Johnny want to melt in his spot.

It ends up making him choke instead.

"Argh—!"

Letting out a gruttal sound, Johnny reaches for the herbal tea pot near the edge of the table for some warm liquid. But you, being who the girl that you are—too considerate, too kind, too perfect—rush to pour him a cup first. The blond mutters a small, sheepish thank you through flushed cheeks and lowered gaze as he drinks, feeling your hand smoothing down his back. 

“You good? Sorry if the cookies are too dry. I probably put too much flour.”

Johnny quickly shakes his head, darting his eyes up to meet yours.

“No, they’re—”

Boobs.

That’s all it takes for his brain to short-circuit.

Because your boobs are three inches from his face, fucking dammit!

“They’re what?”

You look at him, mildly confused. You’re already bent over the table to hand him the teacup and stroke his back, not noticing how compromising your position is. It’s like those awful porn stacks Johnny found under Gyro’s bed, except he… kind of gets the appeal now. 

“Dude,” you sigh. It slightly alarms Johnny how similar your brow-furrowing is to Diego's. “If you’re gonna have a stroke, can you hold it until next week? I still need pointers on my riding posture.”

"Ah, fuck—okay."

Satisfied with the answer, you beam and squish his cheeks together before finally backing away. He missed your touch. He misses you; you’re one of the few people in his life who don’t walk on eggshells around him, nor do you treat him like one.

Ever aware of its Master’s blooming desire, Tusk ACT1 squirms from its place on your shoulder. Okay, he isn’t this down bad, and even if he is—

Chumimi~in

“…”

His Stand just slid right down into your cleavage. 

His brains blue-screen.

His eyes widen.

His jaws on the floor.

Johnny Joestar wants to fucking die. 

“Y-You little shit! GET BACK HERE!”

Reaching over the table in desperation, Johnny extends his arm in a hopeless attempt to retract his Stand. It’s not just bad, it’s fucking horrendous how he can feel everything in the valley between your plump tits where Tusk is poking its tiny head out. 

“I’m so fucking sorry! It just did that on its own, I swear to–”

Chumimi~in

Intense shockwave travels from his lower spine up the neurons in his brain; Johnny’s hands tremble in the air, panting as his face gets progressively redder. It’s like his head is buried between… oh Lord. 

When he mutters your name, it sounds like a plea.

“Can you…? Please…?”

"I don't know... Tusk looks quite comfy here." 

Johnny whimpers your name this time.

A sly grin makes its way onto your face.

”Hmph, alright.”

Lifting the tiny axolotl-like creature with your thumb and index finger, you hold it up for inspection. The sight seems... amusing for you, at least, judging by how your grin widens at the sight of Tusk's cartoonishly swirly eyes and the equally cartoonish dizzy stars crowding around its head.

A defeated groan left Johnny's lips, muffled by the blonde's palms over his own face. There goes his dignity.

"You're so evil..."

"At least this little fella likes it." 

"Please put it down," Johnny musters with as much calmness as he can afford, though his voice still ends up cracking a bit. 

You just shrug with a quaint smile. 

But the second Johnny's hands move away, you immediately hoist Tusk closer to your face and start… peppering kisses all over the Stand’s face. 

?!?!?! 

?!?!?!?!?!

Johnny Joestar.exe has stopped working. You were probably up two hours ago. The same time Johnny rolled his wheelchair into the living room, his annoying Italian friend suddenly bolted up from where he fell on his ass, and proceeded to sniff the air like a guard dog.  “She’s baking again today.”

Johnny tried to keep his poker face. “So?”

“Don’t ‘So?’ me, you know it’s gonna be good stuff.” Gyro mused, flashing his toothy grin. “I’m out today, soldier. Try not to bust your nuts the second she walks through that door.” Yeah, right. 

…yeah, right… “Aww, he’s so cute!”

You sing-song, pulling away at last. At this point, Tusk looks downright delirious at the attention and affection you bombarded it with in the last few minutes, its small body limping in the palms of your hands. Chumimi~in

Blood is probably the last concern in his mind right now, with how hard Johnny’s fingers are digging into his temple, doing just anything to reel back the pained, desperate whimpers that were seconds from escaping. He can't breathe, can hardly hear his surroundings over the bass of his own heartbeats, drumming loud and clear in the blond’s ears. 

You’re killing him, and you don’t even have a clue.  And yet, much to Johnny’s horror, Tusk ACT1 still finds the energy to shoot up one last time, circling your head like an excited puppy before finally fading away.

“...I-I hope you know that you just basically kissed my soul.”

It’s meant to be a casual remark, a bad joke in a poor attempt to water down his embarrassment. 

“Mhm,” you grin. “I know.”

ADSHFEEFJHKJDFIOWREIHSMA—

Excuse me?! “Hey, don’t Stands reflect their user's deepest desire though?” Your lips curl in amusement as you lean one cheek onto the palm that just cradled the literal manifestation of his life spirit. “Does that mean…?”

Johnny’s face gets progressively redder. As if his legs aren’t already immobile enough in this wheelchair, the blond will gladly throw himself off the balcony just to avoid looking you in the eyes.

“D-Don’t just… assume that,” he awkwardly clears his throat. “Tusk might be a manifestation of me, yes, but it has its own flairs and preferences too. You’re a pretty girl, you treat it nicely, you feed it food. Who wouldn't get attached?”

Ignore the fact that it applied to him too… 

“Hmmm…" 

He watches you purse your cute lips, tilting your head further to the side. 

Fuck.

Maybe he does like you.

But is there a chance that you truly like him back?

Diego will wear your skin if you let him. Chain you down in a suburban mansion overlooking many rolling terrains filled with wild flowers right after graduation. 

Soundman looks and feels elusive to the untrained eye, but if there's anything the man hates more than the white folks polluting his homeland, it's the fact that there are always two or more getting in the way of him courting you. 

Clandestine trysts with Hot Pants by the lake are the only times her watching eyes soften, and her mouth loses its bitter edge. She loves you as much as she covets you, if the red ginsengs and maca roots she keeps slipping in your basket are anything to go by. 

Johnny wonders where he fits amidst all this insanity. He’s been a cripple long before the incident took away his ability to walk; cripple in his feelings and how he kept drowning them out with hookups, cripple in familiar relationships, and how he would never know his father’s love for being the son who lived. The race is getting closer day by day, a gruelling 3,700-mile journey across America on horseback, backed by the most powerful corporations and potentially the President himself. 

One victory, then a lifetime of glory.

“Alright, never mind.”

Taking in the awkward silence, you chuckle and hold your hands up in surrender.

“I’m just kidding, ok? Forget what I said.”

Admittedly, he isn’t mad as much as he is thankful. Getting into this Academy was the final act of mercy George could have granted before disowning his child altogether, but even then, the reputation and inspirational narrative of a now-paralyzed prodigy earned Johnny just enough attention that wallowing in misery was not an option anymore. Gyro’s company kept the bad thoughts away, but it’s in yours that they returned full-force. 

He looks up and calls your name.

You blink at him, perplexed. “Yeah?”

Insecurity.

The point is, Johnny doesn’t want to spiral. He doesn’t want to curl up into himself every time you smile in his direction just to be reminded of the fact that, with no legs to move, he has no legs to run either. No choice but to face the husk of a man he had become over the years, trying to compensate for the love he couldn't get from his family. 

Maybe that bullet was fate in itself; a twisted punishment from God to get back at him after the awfulness he inflicted upon others.

Maybe he could have been kinder. Seeing you at the cafeteria sometimes while you scold Diego for cutting in line and starting fights, Johnny wonders what would happen that day if he didn't do the same. If he had waited for his turn at the back like any normal person.

Maybe his soul could have stayed rotten as it was meant to be. 

“Johnny, what's wrong?” You shoot up from your chair, shoulders tensing. "Do you need to lie down?”

But he wouldn't have met you. 

He wouldn't even have you look at his direction, let alone sit across the table from him like this. Maybe he could have decided to be nice that one fateful day, and then what? An overnight epiphany wouldn't have magically redeemed himself from a long history of him treating people like disposable objects. 

The arrogance you adored in Diego never looked pretty on him anyways. 

Deep down, Johnny dreads the thought of being just another dumb blonde you would sneer at on the hallway. You wouldn’t say his name so sweetly, wouldn’t share the treats you made, and wouldn’t sit for hours just to hear him talk. Losing one of the most important bodily functions was what humbled him so much in the first place, and in hindsight, it probably was what earned him a soft spot in your heart as well. 

Is it crazy if he truly believes you’re meant for him?

“Come here.”

A flash of shock crosses your face at how unusually calm he sounds. Still, the chair creaks as you move, rounding the table to face him. 

“Hey, are you o—”

With one hand on your shirt collar, Johnny pulls you down to his level. A startled yelp left your lips as your knees collapsed into the carpet, the tip of your nose inches away from his. 

“J-Johnny?”

You’re blushing. For the first time this morning, you’re blushing. His fingers travel from the length of your throat to the skin of your cheek, blue eyes fixating on how your lips part in awe.

“Shh…”

No. 

Of course he's crazy. 

But they could pry you out of his cold, dead hands. 

If all is fair in love and war, the last thing Johnny’s going to do is take the back seat and watch his darling get taken away by someone else. 

“You need pointers, right? On your riding posture?”

His grip tightens around your jawline as Johnny smiles. 

“I’m free this afternoon. Meet me at three in front of the stable.”

You wince. “I’d love to, but I need to run some errands for—”

“Doesn't matter anymore.”

He tilts your chin up. 

“Didn't you say I was cute?"