ദ്ദി •⩊• ) Soooo initially I said I wouldn’t do age ups. Im debating on it, bc I did enjoy writing this, but I will be making a more concise and accurate rule set over this weekend, please read them before sending something in. No shade to this request tho; like I said it was fun!! (Clearly bc it got so long lmao)
Kakyoin is so chill, it’s hard for me to imagine him disliking anyone lmao. In this, you, Jotaro and him are around the time period of P4. Hope this did justice!
Mentions: shower/non sexual nudity, alcohol, Kakyoin going down on you, afab genitalia, penetrative sex, emotionally constipated Kakyoin
Unwavering support, a nearly endless stream of money on an IV drip. Seamless excursions to every corner of the world to investigate those accursed ones who coveted the cut of the arrow, its fever belying untold power— that was the quality you were used to, admittedly, spoiled by, from the Speedwagon Foundation.
The one time there was an exception to the rule, of course it had to be now.
“Only… one other room is available?”
If this had been ten years earlier, the man in white would have shot you a death glare for the “redundant question”, but now he merely sighs. Age and peace had sanded down doctorate-student Kujo’s sharp demeanor; not like you’d mention it. Perhaps it was also the presence of the other man’s hand settling on his shoulder, patting him gently, with an uneasy smile.
“It’s not a problem, Jotaro. There’s a couch in your suite, isn’t there?” Kakyoin asks. “I have no problem sleeping there.”
Without even asking, as usual. Frowning, you open your mouth but he shakes his head before you can speak.
“Ah-ah,” he teases. “Jotaro and I have roomed together quite a bit, and you had à very long flight.”
“And?” You ask, crossing your arms and tapping a foot on the carpet. Maroon, gold and purple dressings give the Hong Kong lobby a rather modern, Western look, almost lounge-like if it weren’t for the dark wood framing plush cushions, flowers spraying out of tall, ornate black vases. Low RnB curled around the furniture, a crooning voice recalling lovers past. Abstract paintings with brush strokes that arch the same as the flower steps with hang on the deep colored walls— it feels downright suffocating, you think, as the summer heat swells against the insistent push of air conditioning. Sheesh. You fan your face quickly before looking the red haired man his face, hard. “I’m also not as long as the couch.”
His eyes narrow. “You haven’t even seen it.”
“Neither of you could take it anyway.”
“Pardon?” Kakyoin says. Jotaro pinches the bridge of his temple.
“The old man is upstairs, remember? He’s in my bed, I’m on the couch. Didn’t think he should room by himself…”
And he doesn’t know when to not butt in, you can hear him mutter. Just like—
“Ah. Of course. It’s not 1989 anymore,” the red haired man concedes, and crosses his arms tightly.
Noriaki Kakyoin rarely betrayed any hint of being flustered, to your absolute annoyance— you’d seen him angry, sure, residual Stand users who had pledged themselves to Dio coming after you would annoy anyone, but never unsettled like this; pink cheeked, shoulders ramrod stiff across. It could just be the heat.
He is dressed in a full, forest green suit— a gauzy white and yellow shawl draped around his shoulders that he often used to prevent his scalp from burning in the more southern ventures. Muscles that had only grown and expanded beyond the high school pictures he showed you one time tighten and flex beneath the silky fabric. Over-elegant, as always.
Before he can meet your eyes, you fan your face again and look away, pressing your marginally cooler fingertips into your cheeks to dispel the blood.
Chrissakes. Sharing a room with him would be the worst. Not that he would be the usual freak; or maybe he was, with that creepy Stand. Never had he pushed you beyond the same polite flirt he’d toss at a waitress who paid extra attention. Professional to a T. Jotaro felt extra aggressive in comparison, but at least he wore his emotions on his sleeve. Kakyoin’s coolness was almost unsettling in comparison. It was impossible to read him. Apart from how clear he thought you were immature for this position.
The worst was how everyone else saw the “gentleman”, taking the lead during missions, cutting you off in conversations, rewriting your plans without discussing them with you. You kept it cool. You kept it professional, even when he moved you around like a chess piece despite your equal standings.
A job. It’s just a job, nothing more. He’s your coworker. You take a deep breath.
“Well,” you say lightly, almost half joking— maybe that would make the black haired man stop staring daggers above the trembling receptionist’s shoulder— and laying a hand on the cool marble desk, you shrug a shoulder. “As long as the AC’s better in there than in here, I don’t mind. It’s a double, yeah?”
The receptionist catches your line and bobs his head in a nod. You smile, and visibly his shoulders relax. Creases in the shoulders of his ill fitting suit refuse to settle.
“Sounds good. Don’t overthink it,” you toss back at the two men behind you; though you’re saying it as much for them as yourself. “Let’s just get through this trip.”
“Tch.” Jotaro shakes his head out of your periphery, and you roll your eyes as you face the anxious receptionist once more.
“Y-yes. Please enjoy your stay, we truly are sorry for the inconvenience,” he stammers.
Sweat beads at his brow. As he hands you the keys in hands that are too still shaking just a hair, they’re covered in a thin film of perspiration where his palms were. You try not to cringe.
“Alright—“ stretching your arms above your head and grinning; if the room was half as plush as this lobby, you’d be sitting pretty over the next few days. “As you said I had a loooong flight, Kakyoin, I think I’ll go drop off my bags if you want me to take yours—“
But as you turn to face him, you pause.
His eyes are a little harder than usual— or is it your imagination? Stormier. The usual easy curve of his mouth is razor thin.
Before you can ponder, the darkness dissipates from his expression. Back is the gentle smile and he nods, talking easily, in the same quiet, polite tone that grated you.
“Would you like me to carry your bag? I at least want to drop mine off as well. If you would like to shower, Jotaro and I could debrief.”
“No need, I have—“
“I insist,” he replies simply, and picks up your duffle bag with as much effort as scooping up a puppy. His own suitcase rolls, and carefully he loops the straps of your own bag to hook onto the extending handle he pulls along.
Your brow raises. Of course he’d take it on himself. As you three head to the elevator, you bite your cheek. Just à few days, you remind yourself. You can do it.
“Were you two going to do that at the bar?” You hand Kakyoin his own key, and, punching in your floors, you tap your toe on the ground. “I can wait to shower if the Foundation is paying for a little cocktail.”
“We have to be up at nine tomorrow,” Kakyoin warns. You roll your eyes.
“Yeah, and I’m offended you still think I’m a lightweight. Remind me who it was that woke who when we were in Berlin?”
The dark haired man sighs, pushing his hands in his pockets. “Chrissakes. No, we were going to meet in my room. There’s already a bar provided if you’re so inclined.”
“Why do you have to phrase it like that?” You shake your head, and “tch”.
“Just relax.” You manage to hide à scowl at the nudge Kakyoin gives you, cornflower irises glimmering in the low light. “If the selection in his room isn’t to your taste, it’s à sign.”
“If I keep sweating like this, I’ll need at least two,” you remark.
“Don’t get drunk,” Jotaro mutters. You stick out your tongue.
“Fine. One,” you say.
-
“Nope. Definitely five.”
Maybe seven. Maybe you didn’t even want to wake up tomorrow, you think, rubbing your temple. Because if the prospect of sharing a room set you off, sharing a BED would send you through the impressive glass windows and into the inky night like a shooting star. You were high enough. You would die instantly. And you’re seriously considering it as you both stare at the (admittedly large) king size bed.
“There’s a couch in here too,” Kakyoin says. But it’s a little strangled, as you pinch the inside of your arm to bring yourself down to earth. Slowly, you exhale.
“That’s barely a loveseat, don’t even.”
Are you projecting, or do you hear satisfaction in his voice? “Then, you admit it’s too short for yourself as well.”
“No,” you start, but before you can continue, he sighs and cuts you off.
“I’ll sleep on the floor.”
This stupid shtick. “No way, we need you to be mobile. I can rough it an inch.”
“You are the only one with the ability to go undercover.” He counters, and presses fingertips together. “They’ll know Jotaro and I immediately, we need you in top acting form.”
“And you don’t think I can act after bad sleep? What kind of half assed—“
“I refuse to sleep in the bed,” he says firmly.
“Fine.” You hesitate. Ah, hell. Neither of you would end up sleeping in the bed at this rate, and damn didn’t that bed look nice. “Well if we’re going to share anything, it’s gonna be the bed.”
He coughs. You glance up at him, his cheeks reddening rapidly, and unable to meet your eyes. “Um… You’re positive?” Kakyoin asks, and you use every ounce of you to make your tone nonchalant, a tiny bit of laughter sneaking through. How could you help it, he looked so boyish, blushing like that and looking away. His turn to get treated like à little kid. And it alleviates a tiny bit of the pounding of your heart against your chest.
“We trust each other with our lives on the field, I could trust you here, Mr. Perfect Gentleman. And I’m sick of arguing.”
“Oh I’m-- you really think that of me?” he asks. As you scoop your bag off his, you frown.
“Yeah… is something wrong with that?”
“No, but… it’s not important,” he reassures, and sits on the bed, smoothing a hand over the clean white duvet. But you can’t help but notice the bitterness in his voice… the usual poise cracking just a hair. Brows furrowing further, you unzip your bag and scoop out your toiletry bag and a loose suit set, something that would be nice enough to sit around with your colleagues but not uncomfortable, a light cotton inoffensive to the weather.
Silence descends upon the room, stark as night without a sunset. The lamplight is honey-colored, not particularly bright, and casts his neutral tones into a strangely warm glow; highlighting the cool maroon in his red hair, and you pivot to the bathroom.
“If you say so. I’m going to shower.”
“If I meet Jotaro, I’ll leave à note,” he calls behind you. You close the door without letting your gaze go above where his knees may be. Heart pounding. Squeezing your eyes shut.
Fuck. This was going to really suck.
Steam lifting off your freshly scrubbed skin, you sigh and step out into the cool tile of the bathroom. You hadn’t gotten to soak it in earlier, too stressed with the situation of the room, the fact that there was yet another fly to squash, who likely had no important new information. Last… three leads were duds?
You try to remember, tucking your head into a towel and wiping down the majority of your body with another. At the very least, there was an abundance of those-- you think, sliding on the soft blue cotton set and opening the door.
He’s seated on the bed, up towards the small bed desk. When he sees you, he pauses-- doesn’t say anything, and then turns back to the phone. “Jotaro?”
“What is it?” you whisper. Kakyoin shakes his head and continues to listen with a frown.
“I understand. If you would like--”
Another pause. Then, he says, slowly, “Yes. Then, let’s wait until tomorrow. I’ll let you know if we need anything.”
Quiet again. You clear your throat.
“Mr. Joestar has fallen asleep. Jotaro was asking if we could postpone the debrief.” Actually focusing, you really look at him, and blink-- he’s also gotten into more comfortable clothes, a tee shirt and loose silk pants that contour his thighs well.
You hope you haven’t looked too long. Had you ever seen him out of uniform? Him looking somewhat human was almost more annoying than his usual appearance.
“Okay, that’s fine. Did you want to--”
“There’s--” he stops. “I’m sorry. I’ve done that a few times now.”
“It’s… fine, did you want to go to the hotel bar?”
“I would prefer not to step out like this. And it’s likely not a good idea to go alone.”
Unfortunately he was right. You sigh, and shrug.
“No worries, then.”
“Well…. We have small bottles,” Kakyoin says. You frown; hadn’t he just said you shouldn’t drink barely an hour before? “Would you like one in particular?”
You hum, leaning against the doorframe. “A red wine?”
“I’ll take the sake.” He scoops up a white bottle and a clear bottle filled with red liquid from the open fridge.
He’s graceful. Opening your bottle and pouring it first, handing you the glass before he even looks at his bottle. Always so considerate.
“Here.”
“Thanks,” You say, trying to sound nonchalant, to a middling effect— trying not to cringe. Hair falling in his face, he tips his own cup against yours; a small sake cup, porcelain.
“Kanpai.”
“Cheers.”
Taking a sip, you stride towards the bed. Fatigue crawls through your veins as you sit, carefully, on the edge. The only other option is the loveseat, which is not any less stain proof than the duvet, and you’re beat. As soon as your body heard the permission to relax, it did, and you swirl the little bit of wine in the glass.
“I suppose Mr. Joestar is getting up in years. Was he really that much more spry ten years ago?” You ask. Casual conversation had to be better than just sitting here in silence. Maybe he wouldn’t be so insufferable when he actually talked about himself.
“He had his pains, sure. But I wouldn’t call him anything less than capable back then.” He pauses, and tilts his cup back. “Quite a threat.”
“Hm. It would be interesting to see him at his prime… though, did he have a Stand then?”
“No, he didn’t.” The bed dips beside you. You tense for a moment as he lays back on the pillows, kicking his feet up. Kakyoin plucks two pillows from the headboard and lays them in a vertical line down the bed towards you. You can’t help it, snorting and shaking your head.
“You don’t have to do that yet, we’re not going to bed yet.”
“Are you sure?”
You sigh. This felt like too much. Despite each of your best efforts, you couldn’t focus on the topic, especially not when he was staring at you like that. Your arms cross.
“Listen, I’m not dense. I get that you think I’m immature or something, but we’re adults. We can sit next to each other without à wall between us.”
“What would you know about what I think?” he asks.
You freeze. That’s not a tone you’ve heard from him before… strained, sure, but lower than usual. Taking one more swallow of your drink you set it down, looking up at the man-- who closed the gap between the two of you in what feels like an impossible amount of time.
You almost fall off the bed, leaning over to set your cup down. Deep breath. The words are on your lips, as you’re turning to him: that you hate me?
He answers when his lips press to yours.
A startled sound between a squeak and a gasp is muffled by his mouth, as he leans forward into you, your elbows pressing into the mattress. Hardly leaning any of his weight on you, and yet still he feels overwhelming; the taste of the rice wine, his clean eucalyptus aftershave. Lingering warmth from the hot water. The tentative, hovering heat of his body above yours.
As his soft lips leave yours, you meet his eyes. Your stomach leaps when you see the pupils blown out with lust, lids heavy as if the thin scars were pushing them shut. Almost immediately, he blinks, and retreats just a few inches.
“I-- I’m sorry, I’m being--”
But this time, you don’t let him finish.
Practically pouncing on him, you kiss Kakyoin with a renewed fever-- blood pumping, heart practically vibrating in your chest. He’s surprised for only a moment before he kisses back with as much fervor, wrapping his arms around your waist, heaving you up to sit on his lap in one smooth motion. You were right about his strength.
Wavy hair brushes your nose as he slides the clothes you just put on back off-- one hand on your hip, the other on your back, under the thin fabric. Beneath you, the insistent swell of his cock makes you gasp. He responds by tossing your shirt to the side.
“Did you really.. Think I couldn’t think of you like this?”
“What?” You whisper, confused-- before you can form another thought his mouth is against the curve of your chest, kissing, nipping, one hand on your back pressing you to him and the other gripping your waist so tight you worry you’ll bruise. Slow, but painfully so-- he slides his hand under the waistline of your pants, on the bare skin of your hip. Tentatively you let one hand slide under the hem of his shirt, and his hand on your back hastily meets yours and scoops his shirt off. Your bare stomachs press against each other. Another shaky breath leaves your lips when your hips twitch along his lap; the red haired man groans.
“Maybe it’s too late to ask,” he murmurs, and without another moment’s hesitation, flips you over onto your back. You don’t get to say anything before he’s tugging on your bottoms, not pulling them all the way down, but low enough on your hips that the v-shape of your pelvis is visible from where you lay. Satin like curls brush against your bare skin with a shiver.
“Is it alright?”
Seriously? You grit your teeth. “Kakyoin, I swear to god, if you don’t--”
He pulls your pants down just enough to slot his face between your thighs, and immediately scoops under your swelling clit with the tip of his tongue.
Choking on your own breath, you press back into the headboard, hips curling into his mouth. One hand pushes your clothes down all the way as he gently laps at your soft folds, sliding a thin finger down from your clit to your entrance, circling it. Your hips jerk
Wetness from you mixes with his spit, and as he pushes the digit into you the obscene squelch sends shivers down your spine. Shit.
He hums around your clit. “You sound nervous.”
“You should put that silver tongue back to its best use,” you rasp, and a hand tangles in his hair to push his lips back down to your pussy.
Without hesitation, he dives back in. Sucking along the little bundle of nerves at the top of your thighs, curling his finger against your g-spot, you moan; grasping into his hair, you feel him do the same before you hear it. Eagerly he eats you, letting the rough pad of his tongue brush up against every sensitive part before the curl in your gut snaps.
“F-fuck… Kakyoin, I—“
And you tip over the edge, body trembling. Pleasure ripples from your wet cunt all the way up your spine, a strange light feeling that lifts you off the bed. But his hands lock around your hips, and even as you spasm, he continues to fuck his fingers in and out of you, sucking harshly on your clit.
Too much. Too much.
Your hands tighten on his hair, and you can feel how harshly you’re tugging on it, but Kakyoin bullies you through it. His hold is iron. Your abdomen muscles flex and twitch as you slide down the headboard, weakly trying to push his soft lips and tongue away. But it’s as if he’s possessed— ignoring your protests in a cracked voice as you arch away from the mattress and unwittingly, further into his mouth. That same feeling ripples through you again, and you cry out as your second orgasm of the night wracks your frame.
“S-stop… s’too… Kakyoin…”
He finally rises from your thighs with a pop, releasing your puffy, abused clit and straightening. On your back, dazed from cumming so hard, you can’t help but feel small as he looms over you. The curve of his cock under the silk pants barely brushes your stomach— you whimper.
“This is the only way I can stand to hear that sound,” he murmurs, pulling his pants down— your hands hover around his thighs, as his length hits against his stomach lightly. It’s impressively sized, in a way that makes your chest flutter. You wrap your hand around it, and give an experimental stroke; he moans, and leans over you. Teasing the hot head between your wet thighs, he continues softly, “Just like this.”
As if asking, the very tip of him dips inside you. Hissing, you widen your hips further and let him sink into you, the sheer length of him brushing against a spot so deep you almost gasp. He exhales, straightening, and gazing down at you.
Gone are the politely sweet, near condescending eyes of before. He looks positively feral.
After a moment he begins to move. Kakyoin’s sharp hips snap against yours in a soft rhythm at first, building into something needier. You too, scrabble at his arms, for purchase, something, his pelvis brushing against your oversensitive clit and pushing out soft, fucked out sounds. Kiss swollen lips are caught again as he picks up your hips, bending you back further as you squeak.
“So good…” he murmurs. “You feel absolutely amazing around me.”
Nonsense babble is all you can come up with. Wet, lewd sounds filling the air as he drags his cock against your cunt, squeezing around him like a vice. Each vein. The scoop of his head. You fit him too well. As he tilts your neck to kiss you, you hold to him for dear life, legs bent back and trembling, the warmth too much as you clench.
“Mm.. Kakyoin, I’m go—“
“You first,” he manages to get out, and the pad of his thumb finds your clit one more time.
Fuck. Fuck him for that.
And you cum around him with a scream.
The ecstasy spreads through you like lightning, seizing your limbs and making you tremble. Spent, you tuck your head into his shoulder, heaving, your exhausted body sweaty against his.
He hisses. Thrusting into you off rhythm, he breaks, pulling out and spilling his release over your tummy, letting it drip towards your crotch and abused pussy. Kakyoin breathes heavily, pressing his forehead against yours.
Neither of you speak for a moment. As if in disbelief. That hadn’t… happened, right?
But as you’re pondering that in your fucked out head, there’s the soft brush of a towel against your midsection.
As you look up, you’re met with your companion’s red face, unable to meet your eyes as he cleans you up. His lips part, but close again. There’s almost a glint of shame in his eyes.
Was he… why was he like fhis?
Frowning, you grab his chin and force him to look at you. He presses his lips together, feigning irritation— but he can’t hide his blush.
“Kakyoin.” Your voice cracks with the last hour’s use.
“Y/N.”
“Can we be adults for a second?”
He raises an eyebrow. You sigh.
“Why do you coddle me?”
His expression shifts, and you’re as surprised as he looks. “I do… what?” He asks.
“You always shift plans so I have the least involvement. Or you get rid of me entirely in the planning. I barely get into the field and it’s becoming an issue because you two are so recognizable— you said it yourself earlier. I don’t hate you,” you add slowly, your voice getting softer. “I just don’t get why you think I’m incompetent.”
He hesitates, and exhales, shoulders slumping. “I apologize. I’ve been acting somewhat like Jotaro.”
“At least he’s easy to read.”
“And I am not?” He asks, exasperated. But then clears his throat and continues, calmer. Sheepish, even. “I thought I was obvious. I kept moving you because… I didn’t want you to get hurt.”
You blink at him. Then, as if planned, you swipe up one of the pillows he’d used to create a line between you two, and hit him in the head.
“W— what the heck?” He snaps, but his tone starts to elevate in surprise as he hears you laugh. With it, like a bucket of cool water, you feel every single muscle in you de-tense, shaking your head, finally grinning at him. Kakyoin blushes.
“Yeah, yeah, you have more years of experience, but chrissakes, do you have that little faith in the foundation’s training?”
He huffs. “No. And I realize how foolish I was now.”
“Thanks for explaining yourself. At least. I didn’t expect you to be shy with your emotions.” You slide off the bed, steadying yourself on worn out legs.
He takes your hand, keeping you upright. As you ready à tease, he cuts you off, softly, saying something that makes your heart race. “I lost my reason. I do, around you.”
As he stands, you keep your hand in his, looking up at him. Tousled red curls. His carved jaw, the elegant sculpt of his neck and shoulders down to his chest. Such pretty eyes. Focused on you with gentleness, but adoration as well— as if you were a sight he’d traveled hundreds of miles for.
Jolyne presses the tip of the strap into your tight hole, you whimper as she pushes in, stretching you open. It’s too much, too big, your eyes start watering instantly. “J-Jolyne… fuck, it’s so deep already!”
“Aw, baby,” she coos, voice dripping with fake sympathy while she sinks another inch. “My poor girl can’t even take the first half without tearing up?”
Tears slip down your cheeks as she bottoms out, hips flush against your ass. You’re full, so fucking full, your pussy flutters against her cock, a broken sob leaves your throat. You try to grab at her arms but she pins your wrists above your head with one hand, leaning down until her lips brush your ear.
“Shh, shh. Don’t cry so loud, dumbass.”
She starts moving, rolling her hips in deep, steady thrusts that make your whole body jolt. Every time she drives in, a fresh wave of overwhelming pleasure-pain hits you and you can’t stop the whimpers spilling out. “T-too much… Jolyne puh— ahh! it’s t’much, I can’t—”
“You can and you will,” she growls, picking up the pace. Her free hand grabs your jaw, forcing you to look at her while she fucks you. “You asked for my cock like a desperate slut and now you’re gonna take it. Look at those pretty tears. God, you’re such a mess already.”
Your sobs mix with moans as she angles her hips and hits that spot inside you over and over. Your brain is melting. All you can do is cry and shake, legs trembling around her waist.
“F-fuck… I’m gonna— please!”
“Please what?” Jolyne laughs, degrading and sweet all at once. She leans down and licks a tear off your cheek. “Gonna cum from getting your pussy wrecked? C’mon, show me how stupid you get.”
She fucks you harder, your mind blanks until your babbling and begging so hard your voice cracks. Every thrust pushes another whimper out of you until you’re not even forming words anymore.
“That’s it,” she praises. “My dumb little pussy. Can’t even think when I’m inside you, can you? Just a hole for me to use.”
You cum hard, sobbing her name, body clenching around the strap while she keeps thrusting through it, dragging it out until you’re a twitching, tear-stained wreck underneath her. Jolyne doesn’t stop, just grins down at you like she owns every pathetic sound you make.
“Good girl. Now let’s see how much more you can cry for me.”
Synopsis: The exciting anticipation of the weekend is something nearly everyone can relate to, especially considering your predicament. After being slighted by your ex-boyfriend, your friends convince you to go to the club as a way to get him off your mind. It's just your luck when you spot a cute stranger to distract you from alll the heartbreak.
Content: [SMUT] Vers Mista, 'Top' Reader, (Switch Implications for both), Canon Divergent, Alternating POV (briefly) Alt. Colors Mista, Cub Mista (hairy/a bit chubby. Sue me.), Mista is mixed race, And has so much swagger hello, Everyone is at least 20, Club Setting, First Meeting, Flirting, Lots of dancing, Grinding, Dry Humping, Nipple Stimulation, Coming Untouched, Ass grabbing, Coming Prematurely, Morals? What Morals?
WC: 9.2k
a/n: I listened to a shit ton of 2000's music while writing this, I encourage you do the same LMAO. Ik it took me forever to finish this, so sorry! Also somehow this ended up being nearly as long as the Bruno fic so...Hope you enjoy <3
The overhead flash of neon pinks and greens, blues and oranges, throws a horde of people into a frenzy on the dance floor, the already heavy bass of the music amplified by their unified jumping. Strobe lights scan the crowd geometrically in intervals, blinding at times, but somehow only encourages everyone to get a little wilder in their movements. The crowd swarms with an intense energy, arms and necks being tossed every-which-way, distracting them from what was meant to be a discomforting warmth in the air, and the stickiness of sweat across their skin.
In the center of all this, Mista shouts the lyrics of the chorus with what little breath he has left, his calves aching each time he springs up with the rhythm. He holds onto his hat for dear life and tries his hardest not to elbowanyone in the face, successful only 60% of the time. Not like he could hear their complaints over the music anyways, so technically he couldn’t get in trouble, right?
Life never felt so easy as it did when Mista was at the club. Of all the simple pleasures he’d come across in his life, this one was undoubtedly his favorite. Absorbing concerning amounts of alcohol, meeting awesome strangers, and being able to move his body in any way his mind desired? It’s an experience that just can’t be replicated. So, he took it upon himself after each boring, under-stimulating work week to hit up the best underground club in Naples: Il Seminterrato.
He was essentially a regular at this point, considering the DJ, bartenders, and owners knew his name and face. It earned him nothing more than a few drinks on the house every other weekend, and they’ve even stopped asking for his ID at the door, granting him quicker access. He couldn’t find it in himself to feel guilty about it even though he probably should; who wouldn’t want benefits like that? If it meant he could get on the floor faster, then who gives a damn?
Mista opens his eyes and tilts his head to the ceiling, smiling to himself as the colors swirl and twinkle above him. Tonight felt...particularly exciting. He couldn’t explain why: maybe he’d had a little bit too much to drink already, or perhaps that monthly horoscope he’d read in the papers had been right after all—whatever it was, he knew for sure he wanted that feeling to last as long as possible.
“Hey, you’re hot! Wanna dance?”
A voice shouts at him from over his shoulder, startling him out of his thoughts. He snaps his head around, the stranger respectfully hovering behind him. The guy looked to be a few years older, but the flicks of glow-in-the-dark paint he had splattered on his face made it clear he was still in Mista’s ideal range. Regardless, he was pretty cute, so...
“Hell yeah!”
Mista backs up into the man's arms, allowing them to strap around his waist as they both continued to move with the music. Best to take what he could get.
Recently, it felt like he was getting less and less action, but he couldn’t think of one reason why. He was as handsome as always, hype, friendly, all the things that magnetize people...yet the most he could get out of anyone was a brief kiss. Perhaps it’s because his taxi fare was $14.44 a few weeks ago...yeah, definitely that. Either way, he was sure this would finally be the night that he left the building with something more than a raging headache and sore feet.
With a deep sigh, you take a seat on the first open bar stool you can find, propping your elbows up on the counter and digging the heels of your palms into your eyes. A comforting—though it feels patronizing—hand lightly rubs your back,
“Come on, you can’t start sulking now that we’ve finally made it here. That would put all my efforts to shame!” Your friend speaks into your ear, sounding a bit disheartened.
You shake your head and wave him off, “Bruno please, I’m not sulking, I'm just...adjusting.”
Your lie doesn’t seem to bode well with man, and his gentle rub turns into a ruthless pinch.
“Ow-what the hell!” You turn around to glare at him, reaching back to soothe the pain.
Bruno only smiles at you, placing his clutch in the hands of the man behind him before taking the stool beside you. “Don’t even, I can see it all over your damn face."
“Jesus, Leone, could you please tell this prick to keep his hands to himself?” You complain to the tall man still standing, but the shrug he gives you is telling of who’s side he’s on.
“Can’t. He’s right, you need to get outta your head.”
“Sell out..” You say under your breath, placing your hand in your chin.
“See? We’ve got to get you back to how you were in the cab. And I know just the trick..” Bruno doesn’t wait for your response as he reaches out to flag down the bartender, a young woman, who approaches with a friendly smile.
“Hey ya’ll, what can I get ya?”
“A round of tequila shots, please.”
“You got it, boss.”
Bruno tries to ignore the look you’re blatantly giving him by pretending to fix his shirt, as if the entire club couldn’t see his tits enough already.
“Seriously? Are you trying to get me to make a fool of myself?” You tut, nudging him with your elbow. The last time you had too much tequila in your system, things had gotten a little...depraved.
Bruno laughs, “Kind of, yes. This is the fastest way to get that stick out of your ass.”
“I don’t have a ‘stick up my ass’, I’m reacting like how anyone else would if they’d just gotten dumped!”
“You knew the guy was a piece of shit, you should’ve expected it at some point.” Leone chimes in, draping his arms over Bruno’s shoulders and resting his chin on his head.
You roll your eyes. “He wasn’t that bad. I mean, sure he had a few quirks, but-”
“Remember that time he ‘borrowed’ your car without asking to meet up with some ‘friends’ downtown?” He interrupts. Your face sours at the memory.
“Oh right, and it turned out they’d gone to a strip club?” Bruno adds.
“Not to mention him never paying for dinner and refusing to take photos with you-”
“Okay, I get it, he was shady!” You groan, putting a fist to your forehead. “..You don’t gotta be so blunt about it.”
Three short glasses are slid across the bar counter landing in a nice little cluster in front of you, their rims decorated with salt and a slice of lime. You all thank the bartender in unison, each of you grabbing the glass of your choosing.
Staring down into the clear liquid, you feel your lips pull into a frown. As annoying as they were being about it, your friends are right about your ex. You’d met the man eight months ago by what felt like a miracle, considering your romantic life had been drier than a desert prior to his arrival. It started as a one-night-stand (which should’ve been your first sign), but he insisted on seeing you again multiple times afterwards. A few solid dates later, you’d developed a charming relationship, though it only stayed that way for a month or so. Upon first meeting him, your closest friends Leone and Bruno were skeptical of the guy’s intentions, but you brushed it off as them being overly protective.
You had so easily gotten caught up in the excitement of having a boyfriend that you neglected all his distasteful tendencies; how he wouldn’t hold your hand or kiss you in public, the way he’d coincidentally run out of cash right after you’d already given him some...But oh, he gave the sweetest compliments, and in the comfort of your home, he treated you with such tenderness..
‘That bastard is going to bleed you dry.’
Leone had said in his usual aggravation. For whatever reason, you still held on to hope that the man would change, with a little pleading here and there...but it always fell on deaf ears. On Wednesday, it all came crashing down, and it was revealed that he had been seeing other men behind your back, an admission that had apparently only been a surprise to you. But without even getting a chance to discuss the matter, the man broke up with you on the spot, claiming he ‘had other clientele to tend to.’ You’d never felt so dejected in your life. Just like that, more than half a year of your time had gone to waste.
“Shady doesn’t even cover it. He was a sleaze, and I should’ve decked him when I had the chance.” Leone’s gruff voice brings you back to the present.
You huff, “Yeah, maybe...”
With his free hand, Bruno presses his hand to your cheek, your gaze lifting to him. “Enough about that. We’re here to get him off your mind, not for you to ruminate.” The smile he gives is genuine, and it makes the tension in your chest ease up a little. He raises his shot glass between the two of you, “We’ve got more important business right now!”
You respond with a softer smile, lifting yours as well. “-Okay, okay..cheers.”
“Bottoms up, bitch.” Leone is the last to slot his glass into the circle, each of you laughing as you clink your shots together, lick the salt from the rim, and toss the liquid back.
The tequila goes down without a fight, sparking your nerves with a thrill that you know will come to haunt you sooner rather than later. Before you can even set your glass down, Bruno is already ordering another round, nodding his head to the music which seems to grow louder by the second. Within what feel like mere minutes, the three of you are four shots in, and you even take it upon yourself to try one of the special edition cocktails they were selling for this week's event. It’s more fruity syrups than it is alcohol, but the little ball of flashing light at the bottom and the edible glitter inside of it makes up for the taste.
Bruno gets his fingers around your straw when you glance away for the briefest second, giggling as he keeps the drink just out of your reach so that he can take a few sips of his own.
“Hmmm...more tart than I expected it to be.” He sighs. “Not half bad though. Maybe I should get one of my own..”
You smile and shake your head, reclaiming the glass. “I think you should time-out for a bit. The night is young, no need to rush the buzz.”
“Not to mention you’ve already bitten off more than you can usually chew..” Leone comments with a smirk, leaving a glowing purple stain on the others cheek as he kisses him.
Bruno folds his arms defensively, but his lips still have a small curve to them as he turns around to face his partner. “You drink like a sailor, and no one bats an eye.”
“That’s ‘cause I can handle myself afterwards. You on the other hand..”
“-Lightweight-” You cough into your fist.
“Oh, whatever! I can ‘handle’ myself perfectly fine...besides, even if I can’t, Leone always knows the perfect way to tame me..”
Bruno’s words are somewhat proven by the way Leone’s arm remains hooked around his waist, and he complies willingly when Bruno leans his head back for a kiss.
“Uhmm, gross?” Your face twists in playful disgust at the display.
“Envy is not a good look on you.” Bruno chuckles, crossing one of his legs over the other. Leone remains close, kissing the man's temple and some parts of his neck, leaving him covered in lipstick.
“I’m just saying, have some decency. Your lap dog looks just about ready to dive his hands beneath your skirt at a moment's notice.” You grumble, taking another gulp of your drink.
He shrugs, “Well, no one’s telling you to watch.”
You furrow your brows, glancing away quickly. “My God, I hate you.”
Bruno’s hands shoot out to grab your sleeve, tugging as he laughs. His drunken smile is way too cute, impossible to stay mad at. “Hey, hey, I’m kiddingg-! You know I’d never...especially not in a place like this.”
“Yeah, whatever..”
He purses his lips, dissatisfied with your conceding response. He ponders for a moment, glancing back at the dance floor before giving your arm another tug. “Look.. how about we do some cruising?”
Your mouth dives into a frown around your straw at his suggestion. “...you can’t be serious.”
“Do I look as though I’m joking?”
...Indeed, Bruno has a rather resolute expression on his face, his brows firmly set, eyes just wide enough to show his conviction.
“You know the saying; the best way to get over one is to get under another, mm?”
He had a way of getting what he wanted out of anyone, stranger or not. Fortunately for him, you weren’t in the mood to argue. You draw in a deep breath, wedging your thumb into your forehead before sitting up straight, and turning fully towards him.
“Okay, fine. But I’m making you two do all the work for me.”
“Oh, trust me, you’re in great hands.” Bruno winks, shifting on his stool until he’s facing the bustling crowd, prompting you to do the same. He narrows his eyes and taps his chin as he looks over all the potential contenders. Leone follows suit, shielding his eyes from the lights and covering whatever ground Bruno doesn’t.
At the very least, you were grateful that they were trying their best to keep you in high spirits. It wasn’t their job to do so, and they very well could have let you third wheel for the entire night, but instead they’re doing...this. It feels nice, knowing that you can always rely on them.
“Ouu...what about him? Hot pink pumps, to your right.” Bruno points, guiding your attention.
The character in question was almost half-naked, wearing what looked like a bright green bikini set that was definitely too small for him, paired with lacy pink thigh-high tights that matched his shoes. He has light purple hair cut asymmetrically, and some futuristic looking visor over his eyes. You tilt your head, looking him up and down, briefly considering. If nothing else, he sure did have a nice pair of legs.
“...Cute, but he’s giving me a strange vibe.”
Bruno rolls his eyes. “How can you catch a ‘vibe’ from all the way over here? Ridiculous.”
As if overhearing your conversation, the stranger ends up locking eyes with you, a smirk appearing on his face before he licks his lips predatorily.
You shiver. “Nope, it’s totally there. Next.”
Bruno sighs, but dutifully returns to his surveying. “Okay, then...how about blondie over there?”
The next man put under your curious gazes is deliciously tall with pale blonde hair scaling his back that sways as he moves, sporting a tight red jumpsuit and a variety of glowsticks around his wrists.
“He’s pretty.” Bruno adds, looking for your approval. “You like pretty boys, don't you??”
You rub your hand against your jaw. There was a slight hitch in this particular selection. “Sure, I do but..I don’t think he’s up for grabs.”
Turning his head back to the man, Bruno grimaces at the downright murderous glare that another patron is giving the three of you; some red head with a snarl sharp enough to make a baby sob at first sight. The possessive type,you presume.
“Talk about intense...Guess a threesome’s off the table then?”
“Jesus, Bruno-”
Your friend holds his hands up in surrender before folding them in his lap. “Just looking at all sides of the coin here, alright? I’m not letting you leave this place without at least one worthwhile interaction.”
You massage the bridge of your nose between your fingers, speaking wearily, “Okay sure..but I think we need to step out of the box a little. Trying to shoot for my type is obviously getting us nowhere-”
“How about him?”
Leone’s voice breaks through your haphazard strategizing, causing both you and Bruno to look at him in mild shock. For what it was worth, it seemed he’d actually taken his time seeking someone out, but you still brace yourself for another failed suggestion. Once again, your eyes follow the direction of his pointed finger out towards the thrashing bodies, landing on-
..Huh.
Well, it certainly wasn’t what you were expecting, but maybe that was a good thing. You lean back against the bar top, brow lifted with intrigue. A wildly energetic man dances at the center of the floor, wearing a purple crop top with indigo trim, cross hatched with white stripes to create wide diamond shapes. The sleeves have been cut off, allowing him to show off his strong arms, and the glow-in-the-dark tiger stripes that he’s painted on them. As for his pants..well, they’re basically nonexistent: the white shorts have that same tiger pattern but in black, cut so high above his thighs that if he jumps too high, his ass cheeks might poke out. Really, it leaves absolutely nothing to the imagination.
You’re momentarily confused as to why he’s wearing a hat in the club, especially since he’s practically in the ‘eye of the storm’ so to speak, but at the same time it feels like his outfit wouldn’t be complete without it. You track his face as he twirls around, subconsciously wondering what his eyes might look like beneath those shades he’s wearing.
“Well? Thoughts?” Leone is already smirking in accomplishment, looping his arm around Bruno’s neck, who speaks up before you can.
“’Looks a bit rough around the edges. A little trashy, even.” His words sound judgmental, but his expression seems admiring.
You hold your chin in your hand, lips pulled askew. “Dunno..trashy isn’t always bad. He’s definitely an attention grabber.”
“That’s true..” Bruno hums in agreement, leaning forward with his elbows on his knee. “If you haven’t got any gripes about him, then you should go for it. Don’t let me stop you.”
You suck your teeth, fingers clenching into a fist. Suddenly, the prospect of approaching the attractive stranger was making your stomach twist. It’s not like you didn’t know how to put the moves on a guy when you wanted to, but you feel like you don’t have your usual spark. On top of that, you’re not sure if you could handle the possible rejection with the state you’re in now. Leone side-eyes you, noticing the confliction in your frown. He raises his hand from around Bruno to tap your shoulder, speaking clearly,
“Hey. Think about it; you’ve really got nothing to lose. If he isn’t interested? Fine, we’ll find someone else. Don’t get yourself down in the dumps before you’ve given it a chance.”
More than hating that he was being entirely reasonable, you hated that the statement was actually giving you courage. Despite this smidge of motivation, you felt glued to your seat, like you couldn’t take the first step of your own volition.
“..I don’t know..maybe I should just wait and see if he notices me staring first..”
“What, so then he can pin you as a creep? Besides, he’s too busy dancing to notice anything but his own two feet.” Bruno notes.
“Okay, fair but-!”
“Oh my god, get the hell up!” Leone hits your shoulder with more force, causing your body to jerk and scramble away in such a way that gets you right out of your stool. Bruno doesn’t let you sit back down either, pushing you gently towards the crowd.
“Wait-I’m not ready!”
“And you never will be. Just be yourself, and all will be fine! We’ll be right here if you need us.”
With a final shove, you’re separated from your friends, left only to look back at their satisfied smiles as you get sucked into the whirlwind that is the dance floor. You want to shake your fists vigorously at them, give them a piece of your mind, but decide it's better if you don’t embarrass yourself in front of literally everyone. Your best bet is to try blending in; you begin side-stepping and jouncing your shoulders to the music, nervously shiftingyourself in the direction of your ‘target.’ For a moment, you lose sight of him, perks of getting bumped into every few seconds, sending you into just the slightest panic that totally doesn’t have your palms sweating, and the word ‘bail’ echoing in your head..
But the Universe, of course, wouldn’t let you get away so easily. Your back smacks into that of another dancer, but as you turn to apologize for getting in their way..
“Argh- My bad, didn’t see ya’ there!”
...
He’s certainly hotter up close.
Your tongue falls flat, whatever statement you’d been trying to make slipping away in an instant. Upon seeing what must be your dumbfounded expression, the man doesn’t turn away, instead continuing to dance as he looks you up and down. As if to get a better look, he lowers his glowing shutter glasses.
“..’You good, man?” He asks with a questioning smirk, speaking loudly over the music.
You try to swallow down all the excuses coming to mind, recounting Leone’s words. “Yeah-yeah I’m fine. Sorry for fucking up your flow.” You laugh, the sound awkwardly quiet and forced.
“Eh, no sweat. When you’re a professional like me, it’s easy to catch the beat.” He pushes his glasses back up, a wider smile on his face.
You raise a brow “Professional? For real? Impressive.”
He chuckles like you’d said something stupid. “Hell, I wish. I do think I’ve got some killer moves though.”
You feel a little relief. This guy was making things easy for you...he’s talkative, not afraid to brag a little. Good..as long as he isn’t the quiet type, you’ve got a bit of wiggle room.
Realizing you’ve been standing practically still since he began speaking to you, you start dancing as well. “Yeah, I think so too. Been watching for a minute...honestly I’m surprised your legs are still intact.”
“Watching you say? Well, then you should know I’ve taken enough shots to keep my system running for the next 48 hours, eh?”
You smile, knowing you were somewhat in the same boat. “Sounds about right.” An idea comes to you then, the tiniest opening that you’d be damned to not exploit. “..Mind if I join you? I’ve got quite a bit of energy to spare myself.”
Bruno would be so proud if he could hear you now.
The stranger smirks, glancing around. “Considering my other partner ditched me...I don’t think I’d mind one bit.”
You breathe out, anxiety fading away. So long as you don’t make an ass of yourself here, this might actually work. You unbutton the cuffs of your sleeves, rolling them up to your elbows for some better range of motion, trying to really get into the groove. Just as they’re exposed, he takes hold of one of your wrists, strapping one of his neon bracelets around it.
You raise your brow at him. “-What’s this for?”
“So I don’t lose sight of you, of course. This place’s like a death trap if you ain’t careful.”
“Ah..” It felt more like he’d laid claim on you, but you shake that thought from your head quickly, smiling down at the little band. “Thanks..and uh-probably should’ve asked this first but, what’s your name?”
“It’s Mista!” He replies excitedly, as if you’d been the only one to ask the entire night. “Or Guido, if you wanna get formal. Either’s fine with me!”
Your smile grows a little. “Nice to meet you, Mista.”
“Yeah, you too, cutie!”
Probably too drunk to realize, Mista never reciprocates the question, which should worry you..but hearing him call you cute was enough to satisfy you for the moment.
You work up a sweat trying to keep up with Mista’s sporadic and carefree movements, all in the hopes of not losing his interest. He’s like an animal, really, moving on pure instinct, which you find to be eerily attractive.
“God, sometimes I feel like Timberlake just gets me, yknow?” He shouts, linking his arm over your shoulder.
You chuckle and nod, “You’ve certainly got that playboy attitude down pact.”
“Think so? I’ve been workin’ on it, honest.” Mista leans his head against yours.
“Mm..you’re a natural, baby.” You fumble the last word, cheeks warm with caution.
But Mista seems flattered regardless, smirking and leaning his weight further into you. “Seems you ain’t so bad yourself.”
He pulls away, grabbing at your hands and curling his fingers around yours so that you both move in unison, back to dancing like nothing had happened. You’re partially grateful, as he makes it easy for you to brush off your mistake, but you mentally remind yourself that you’ve got to step up your game at some point.
The DJ continues to play what could be a miles long list of different music artists, throwing some EDM in the mix with the usual Pop hits and a few classics from the late 80’s to give everyone a bit of what they wanted, a true melting pot. Though, everything has been so high tempo, you feel like you haven’t had a real chance to catch your breath...and anyone with a brain knows that asphyxiation and inebriation are not usually a good combination. You consider stepping off the floor for a minute, just to get some fresh air, maybe even catch up with Leo and Bruno, but you also really don’t want to leave Mista’s side. He’s so captivating; it’d almost be a disservice to take your eyes off of him for even a second.
Almost as if smelling your dilemma in the air, the DJ finally decides to play something slower. Not just slow, but awfully sensual as well. The overhead lights dim down to a stable blood orange, no longer flashing, but instead revolving over the crowd like a wave. The energy in the room doesn’t exactly die down, but its charge becomes a lot more...intimate. If everyone was close before, they were definitely a lot closer now; people grabbing hold of their lovers and friends alike, committing to more fluid and alluring movements.
You find out very quickly that Mista is no exception to this sudden change. No, in fact, he was made for it. He eases himself out of your grasp, his previous motions going down to his hips, arms moving to frame a perfect perimeter of space around himself. Shit, maybe he really is a professional. Your eyes flick down to those shorts again when he turns around, and you tug at your shirt collar when you’re face to face with an ass that sits a little too nicely. You’d be a moron to let him get away from you now.
You toss your apprehension somewhere off to the side, sliding up behind the man and gently slipping your fingers into his beltloops. Mista doesn’t flinch not one bit, but he does glance over his shoulder with a small smirk, as if waiting to see what you’ll do next...as if he knows what he’s doing to you. You huff a small laugh at the thought, pulling him towards you until your chest meets his back, hips meet his ass, before you’re swaying in sync again.
“Knew you had it in ya’.” Mista quips, reaching behind to grab one of your hands and place it against his waist.
“You were waiting on..me?”
“Duh? You’ve been gawking at me all night, no way you were gonna step-off from an opportunity like this.”
You should be ashamed by his observation, but it’s hilarious in it’s own way. “Fair. But you’re intimidating..can’t blame me for being a little hesitant.”
Mista lays his head back on your shoulder, only to show you the way he screws his face up at your comment. “Intimidating? What’s there to be scared of, I’m just livin' it up here.”
You shake your head, “You’ve just got a certain..aura, I guess. Like you’re untouchable. It’s even more intense up close like this..”
His expression fades into something more pleased. “You’ve got a funny way of complimenting people.”
You trail your fingers against his side, shrugging lightly. “I could stop, if you’d like.”
Mista grins, “Bastard, don’t you dare. You’re like, the only guy who’s stayed with me tonight. I’ll take whatever I can get.”
The admission makes you frown a bit, “I remember you mentioning that earlier...what’s up with that?”
He waves it off, facing forward again. “Hell if I know. Most only stuck around for a friendly interaction, or a little making out..”
Listening to him, you feel a little guilty, knowing you too had approached him for the idea of getting a quick lay. Worse that you were doing it to get over your ex. But...it didn’t have to stay that way. You did have some genuine interest in the guy.
“That’s awful.”
“Eh, I’m already over it. I’ve got better company now..” Mista chuckles to himself, raising his finger to trace along your jaw. He hums as he watches you lean into it.
God damn it. Maybe it was the alcohol that was making you so easy, or just your overall exhaustion from dancing but...you’re hooked on his every move. He begins to roll his body back against yours in time with the music, sending a jolt through your core.
“Glad I could be of service, then.” You mumble, moving your hands down to his hips and giving them a small squeeze. “Feels like I just got lucky, though..”
“Aye, what’s so wrong with that? You should be over the moon if Lady Luck is on your side!”
“..Huh?”
“I’m sayin’ you should be grateful for luck’s grace. She doesn’t show up for just anyone, so that means you must hold good fortune..”
The tone he takes with you is genuine, and you blink a little at his adamance, trying to think of something to steer the conversation back in the right direction. “..Uh..yeah, you’re right. Not every day I get my hands on a guy ashot as you.”
“Yeah?” Mista’s smile returns, a hint of mischief in it. “I’d bet not, perv.”
If it was meant to be an insult, it has the opposite effect, a slight tingle spreading along your palms. “..Have I gotten too-”
“Nah..” He cuts you off, bringing his hand to your cheek to turn your face to his. “..I don’t mind. Touch as much as you wanna.”
Your jaw drops pathetically, some dormant urge suddenly awakening within you. Trying to save face, you pull your bottom lip between your teeth, brows drawn together as you stare at him. “I am like..painfully into you.”
He laughs, tilting his head to the side. “Are you? Can’t tell with the way your hands are trembling, like you’re scared or somethin’.”
You hadn’t noticed it at first, but his mention of it brings you to a shameful awareness. Indeed, your fingers shake lightly against the flat of his hips, as if ignorant of the lust currently pooling in your brain.
"Not scared..well, maybe a little. ‘Wanna make sure I’m not doing anything to startle you..” You mutter, having just enough sense to re-fasten your grip on him, one hand now making a pass over the warm leather of his belt.
“What, you think I’m fragile? I can handle anything you throw my way....wait, does that make me sound like a skank?” He frowns.
You snicker at his randomness. “..Kinda. But hey, nothing wrong with knowing your limits.”
He seems consoled by your assertion, relaxing in your hold. “Yeah..exactly. Point is, I ain’t built like a brick wall for nothin’. I’m not a fan of the gentle crap..too boring..”
“Mm..” You nod along as his words begin to slur, eyes turned up at him while your palm slides against his stomach, grazing over a thick patch of curly hair.
His overall frame is indeed very solid, toned muscles covered by a decent layer of chub, especially around his chest and legs. Makes your mouth water a bit. Maybe it was the alcohol finally catching up to you, but you wanted nothing more than to grab and squeeze at every inch of him, watch your fingers sink in and see his face contort in a strange pleasure...
“I’m not so well versed in being ‘rough’, but I can try...for you.” You whisper.
Mista sighs, leaning himself more firmly against you. “Yeah? That’d make me feel realll special, baby. Hit me with the best that you’ve got, and maybe you’ll get even luckier tonight..”
That pet name rolls so easily off his tongue..he should be ashamed. As should you, with your lopsided smile, excitement threatening to clog your arteries. “..That a challenge I’m hearing?”
Mista's teeth flash beneath a passing red light. “Damn straight it is.”
Pride and competition have a funny way of eliminating one’s anxiety. “...Bet.”
Your body whirrs with adrenaline, hand still wobbling as you raise it to his chin. Behind his shades, you can tell Mista has his eyes focused on you, his smirk nowhere near disappearing as he waits for you to make a move. Screw him for being so fine. You turn Mista’s face towards yours, guiding him forward until your lips brush against each other. He teases you, letting your bottom lips touch for a split second before pulling his head back a little, to which you give chase. You narrow your eyes, trying not to pout, but he only stares with a raised brow. Cleary he was trying to get a rise out of you...but you find his behavior more adorable than aggravating.
Still, you give him what he wants; tugging his chin back towards you, this time leaving no room for him to jerk away. Your lips finally press together in a hurried clash, the kiss completely void of congeniality. Despite you initiating, Mista has control over every movement, his tongue being the first to slip it’s way past your teeth to probe and relish in the warmth of your mouth. He doesn’t stop grinding against you all the while, deliberately swaying and pushing his hips into your crotch, somehow still in tune with the music. You’d find time to be impressed about it later, as right now all you can think of is how fucked you are for this guy already.
With his lips captured, you focus your hands back on his body, trailing your fingers along the edge of his shorts, silently reveling at how the fabric strains around his legs. Mista shifts when your knuckles sweep against the skin of his inner thigh, heaving a little sigh that vibrates against you. You don’t have to be a rocket scientist to recognize that he’s sensitive there, so you abuse your newfound knowledge by grabbing a handful of his upper thigh, giving it a tight squeeze while you nip at his lip. You’re dually satisfied when Mista arches against you, a groan sounding at the back of his throat.
He swallows hard, but hardly stops to smile before diving back in to kiss you harder, laying his hand on top of yours for encouragement. Your heart feels like it could jump out of your chest, all this incoming stimulation almost too much to handle. Mista appears to be in the same boat, his pulse so palpable throughout his entire body; you can even feel it on his tongue. You wrap your unoccupied arm around his midsection, hand slowly slipping underneath his crop top to gently caress the soft skin of his ribs, causing him to press further into you. He’s practically hot to the touch, torso dampened with lingering sweat.
“So warm..” You break away to say, now kissing the shell of his ear.
Mista’s chuckle is caught on what you think might’ve been a moan. “That’s what hours of dancing will do to ya..”
“No kiddin’.” You huff.
He tilts his head up willingly as you lean forward to kiss his jaw, your lips tingling against the stubble that he’s allowed to grow there. Finally finding your own rhythm, you begin trailing kisses down the side of his neck, leaving blotches of red against his bronze skin along with small bites here and there. Not enough to pierce him, but definitely enough to leave small indents. Your hands continue to roam, crossing his love handles and tracing over the tiger stripes painted on his arms with a quiet tone of desire and need. Mista seems to be losing hold of his cool demeanor if the way he grabs at his hat is any indicator,
“You ain’t so bad at this...” He breathes out, chewing on a whine when your nails drag along his abdomen.
“Yeah, and you’re easier to break than I thought you’d be.” You try to hold back your smile, but the way he’s reacting is giving you a bit of an ego boost.
“Dunno what the hell you mean..I’ve still got this shit on lock.” He smirks down at you wearily.
You hum and press a little closer against his back, moving your hand to grope the space just below his belt buckle where his shorts are swallowed by his thighs. Expectedly, Mistas hips buck up into your palm like they’resentient, giving away his true position in the matter. Admittedly, it makes your own pants feel a bit tighter.
“On lock? Kinda seems like you’re just about ready to give it up..”
He sucks his teeth, embarrassed by the way his body betrayed him. “I blame the alcohol.”
It isn’t long after that that Mista is leading you off the dance floor, the two of you mushing through the crowd hand in hand. The DJ resumes his usual set, bringing back that original erratic flow that had everyone on their last breaths earlier, which only makes it harder to find a good break in the sea of people. Just when you think you’ve made it out in one piece though, you hear a familiar voice shouting at you from afar few feet away.
“We knew you could do ittt!”
You freeze, whipping your head around to see Bruno waving his arms at you, grinning wide. Leone stands behind him, pumping his fist to the music, but also apparently in solidarity with Bruno’s statement. You want to shrink into oblivion to the point of no return. Mista barks out a laugh, pointing at the couple with a raised brow.
“You know them?”
“...Friends of mine.” You grumble. Tomorrow, you’d be sure to give the two a piece of your mind.
You resist rolling your eyes, tugging his hand to get his feet moving again. “Yeah, something like that...cmon, I’ll catch up with them later.”
“Eh? You sure? I can wait a little bit if you wanna talk to ‘em.”
You glance over your shoulder one more time, regretting it as soon as you see Bruno making a lewd gesture with his hands. “Nope. Totally fine.”
The farther away you get from the main room, the thinner the crowd gets, reduced to small friend groups spread out and in their own worlds. Mista seems to know the layout of the club like the back of his hand, hardly as confused as you are when navigating the two of you to the far side of the building. But there was one thing you knew for sure--
“Isn’t the washroom in the opposite direction..?”
Mista scrunches his face as if offended by the comment. “You wanna fuck in the bathroom..? What kinda man do you take me for?”
“..Shit, sorry..I mean-you don’t exactly strike me as the refined type..”
He snickers, “Nobody ever told you about not judgin' a book by it’s cover?”
Cliche, but true. “..My bad.”
“Aye, no need to get all sober about it. It’s cool..plus, I’m taking us somewhere even better.” Mista wiggles his eyebrows playfully, bringing a small smile back to your face.
After speaking briefly to what you assume is a security guard of some sort, Mista shoulders open a large metal door, quickly dragging you in behind him. He holds your hand tight, the other keeping his hat in place as he takes you up a staircase that you never knew existed. The space is bathed in blacklight, highlighting the colorful graffiti tactfully scribbled on the brick walls around you. Your footsteps echo loudly in time with a now muffled tune, indicating you two were the only ones back here. Mista takes you up two levels, perhaps for good measure, stopping on one of the landings and pushing you back against the wall with a certain force that has your head spinning.
Even as he rears closer, your eyes are still darting around, trying to get a feel for where the hell you are.
“Is this...the fucking fire escape?”
Mista pins a hand against the wall beside your head, the other taking off his shutter glasses. “Sure is. Neat, right?”
Your gaze lands on him again, that sultry smirk of his, and now...his big brown eyes. Finally being under a stable light source, you can really admire the other features of his face..like his thick eyebrows and the little divots inhis cheeks...Dimples. Too cute. Seems he is a pretty boy after all.
The realization makes your nerves spike again, and you stumble over your words. “S..Seriously? You’d fuck in a stairwell, but not the bathroom? Sounds contradictory.”
He hooks his thumb into his shorts, tilting his head. “What? Come on, this place is ten times more sanitary.”
“.withering concrete and glowing paint. Sanitary...right.” You say with a smile.
Mista sighs. “Gimmie a break! Beggers can’t be choosers, aight? You’re welcome to leave if it’s not to your standards.”
You shake your head, reaching out to lay your hand against his side. “What, after all the work I put in to woo you? No chance.”
“Didn’t think so. Besides..no one will see us here, so we can get up to whatever we wanna.” He asserts, smiling as his lips are drawn to your neck, kissing the skin reverently.
You chew your lip, hand now set on his back to keep him close. “You sound pretty sure of that... D’you bring a lot of guys here?”
“Why, you jealous?” Mista’s soft chuckle sends a ripple of electricity through you. His banter is so effortless...it should be the absolute last thing that turns you on, but alas..
“’Course not..just curious..” You mutter.
“Uhuh..so you say..” Mista hums and drags his lips along the underside of your jaw, free hand pressing against your stomach. His fingers slink beneath your shirt, making you squirm. “I don’t come here that often so...consider yourself special.”
“Wow..I’m touched.”
Had your brain been anymore scrambled with intoxication, you might’ve let yourself believe him without question. Though, your sarcasm only seems to rouse him, his knee nudging your legs apart so that he can slot himself closer. He consumes your gasp with a sloppy kiss, kickstarting the beat of your heart once more as his tongue fights for the attention of your own, to which you have no desire to refuse. You slide your hands down and aroundhis back until they settle over his ass cheeks; the way they fill your palms, so plump and malleable, you feel obligated to give them a generous squeeze.
“Mmh-” Mista grunts and bites down on your bottom lip, breaths stuttering.
You smile with a sort of pride, licking your way back into his mouth. Mista is just as eager to match your fervor, the kiss devolving into chaos in mere seconds. He moans and jitters the more you continue to fondle him, growing surprisingly vocal at even the smallest addition of pressure. You aren’t doing much better, panting pathetically and trying to clutch onto every bit of him that you can, as if that will somehow save you from being drowned in his passion. In reaching for the back of his head, you accidentally knock off his hat, revealing curly, dark hair that’s cropped just above his ears. Despite it being a bit damp, you pass your fingers through it, grip it, hold him as close as possible.
Mista breaks to catch his breath, “Jesus christ—where have you been all my life? ’Feels like you’re trying to devour me.”
Your eyelids flutter, and all you can think to say is, “..I am pretty hungry.”
“..Ah?”
Mista has only a split second to register the words before you grab him by the shoulder, using the brief pause as leverage to flip your positions, his back now against the wall. His eyes widen considerably, but he doesn’t recoil or complain. No, he doesn’t struggle in the slightest when you lift up his crop-top the rest of the way, exposing his bare chest to the warm air that surrounds you. In fact, he kindly holds the fabric up for you, giving what you assume is permission.
Thoughts of your ex are so far removed from your mind now, you don’t even have the urge to question your own morals, how wrong it is to be engaging with someone else in this manner after such a recent breakup. Instead, a slur of depraved images shoot through your mind as you stare down at his torso; how you want to slather your lips all over it, squeeze his tits, run your hands over the dispersing pattern of every grove of hair...because damn is there a lot of it. It was only a matter of how far he’ll let you go...
“Fuck, you’re sexy.” You decide to start by just feeling his body, dragging your knuckles against the length of him while capturing his lips in another soft kiss.
He chuckles tenaciously, “I’ve been told..”
He relaxes into your touch, but perks up a little when your hand cups his pec—yet you’re the one to let out a small whimper, horrifyingly aroused by the feeling of the fat seeping through the gaps of your fingers. Mista isn’texempt by any means, making his own erotic sounds into your ear when your middle finger so much as grazes his nipple. It only takes a few passes before it’s practically reaching out for you, hardened and waiting. What kind of man would you be to deny it? Deny him?
You lower your head and turn your eyes up to Mista, melting beneath his needy stare as you flatten your tongue against his nipple, giving it one slow lick after another, now alternating between both pecs. His laid-back facade crumbles, brows pinched together as he stares with his mouth wide open, letting whiny croaks tumble out. It’s like music to your ears, far better than anything the DJ could’ve spun.
His back bows off the brick wall as your tongue swirls in tight circles, and he bites down on his finger as if that will keep him from making anymore noise. It does not.
“Shit..didn’t even know I was into this..” Mista is unsure of where to put his other hand, clear by the way he awkwardly latches it onto your shoulder.
You simply smile and close your mouth around him, beginning a gentle sucking at the flesh, causing him to stutter out a rough moans, head now thrown back. You fear you could watch him like this forever, the way his lips quiver, and his long lashes flutter against reddened cheeks. But you also know that there’s so much more that you want to get around to... You allow yourself the pleasure of kissing, biting, and grasping his tits one last time, before forcing yourself off. His skin is left shimmering wet and slightly swollen, but that seems to be the least of his concerns.
“Why’d you stop?” He sighs heavily, almost glaring at you. “Bored already?”
“Nowhere near it. It's just..my mouth’s more useful for other things..” You quirk your brow, setting your hands on his hips before slowly starting to lower yourself.
Mista blinks, and barely lets your knee hit the ground before he’s shaking his head and laughing. “Woah, woah, aye, the hell are you doing?”
You stop in your tracks, staring confusedly. “...Was gonna give you head..?”
He smirks slyly, tapping your chin. “Uh-uh, that’s a cop out. Off your knees, big guy...want you to fuck me proper.”
Your stomach flips upside down, and you swear your vision goes blurry. Of all the things you suspected would come out of his mouth, it wasn’t..that. You swallow hard, fingers trembling as you make to stand again, guided by his persistent touch on your jaw. Your speechlessness clearly entertains him, as that smile of his only spreads further. He coaxes you back into his space, slipping his arm around your neck and hooking his thigh around your hip. Your hand moves instinctively to hold it up, and you’re drawn in by his hypnotizing gaze until your mouths end up pressed together once more.
Mista grinds against you, a slow drag of bulging fabric along your front that has your mind buzzing with lust. You aren’t sure if you’ll even make it to taking off your damn pants—you don’t want to lose these intoxicating sensations for even a millisecond. You slant your hips forward in time with his own, the two of you no longer kissing, but more so breathing into each other’s open mouths.
“’M not gonna last if we keep on like this..” You whisper.
Mista’s forehead falls to your shoulder, his voice low and shaky. “Yeah..just a little longer though..”
There was no room left to discuss it. “Mh..okay..”
You reach down for Mista’s other leg, hauling it up so that you’re holding him against the wall by his thighs. He whines against your neck, crossing his ankles around your back to keep himself securely suspended. The position allows your bodies to remain in constant contact, your barred erections feeding off the equally euphoric and discomforting friction. It’d be a miracle if you walked away from this without any chafing.
The slow grind morphs into a desperate, staccato thrusting on your part, and Mista can do little more than cling to you, curling a fist into your shirt as his head is thrown back once more. His moans echo through the stairwell, mixing with yours to spiral throughout the space and completely overtake whatever already muffled background music that had been playing. You can feel your arms growing tired, knees a little weak, but nowhere in your mind do you plan on stopping.
“Fuck-fuck yes-God, please..” Mista stammers, covering his mouth with the back of his hand. “More- g’me more-”
Your nails dig into the flesh of his thighs, eyes feebly locked onto his face as you whimper, humping him like a man starved for far too long. Seeing this, he pushes himself forward to kiss you yet again, returning that same level of greed in the flick of his tongue. It’s anything but controlled, and you soon feel a bit of drool running down your chin..but from whom, you’re not sure.
“Think I’m gonna cum-” You blurt, bumping your teeth against his in the process. The realization had hit you way sooner than expected, and lord knows you’d never been good at trying to force a delay upon yourself.
You expect him to protest, but Mista doesn’t even stop to speak, just nods as he anchors his arms further around your neck. And it wasn’t like you needed his permission...but somehow, having it made it so much hotter. As that flurry feeling begins setting your lower half on fire, your hips press hard into his, both of you jerking against each other until a final drag does you in. You should be embarrassed by the pitchy sound that escapes your throat as you come, but you’re too busy being buried by relief to care. Mista’s climax is soon to follow, his calves trembling against you, moans waning on your lips as his hips come to a grating halt.
“Ugh..” A string of saliva connects your lips as he pulls back for air, warm breaths still littered with quiet whines.
You close your eyes and sigh, leaning your head into the crux of his neck. The feeling of soiled jeans is something you hadn’t had the misfortune of experiencing since you were probably a teenager...needless to say, you didn’tmind it all that much at the moment.
“..So much for fuckin’ you proper...” You murmur, mentally kicking yourself for getting so carried away.
Mista laughs hoarsely, patting your back. “Hey, I ain’t mad...shit was amazing.”
You hum, still feeling as though you gave him a pretty lackluster experience. If he claimed to have enjoyed it though, you weren’t going to argue...especially considering it was one of the best orgasms you’d had in a while. And that’s saying a lot.
After taking a second to let your heart calm down, you carefully set Mista’s legs down on the floor again, crouching down to fix his shorts for him. Admittedly, you’re still thinking about what it would’ve been like to suck him off...in fact there were many things that you still wanted to do to him and for him. Unfortunately, you have too much dignity and are feeling way too exhausted to make any of this known. So, you give his inner thigh a little parting kiss before standing again, and adjusting your own clothes.
Mista smiles shyly, scratching his cheek. “You’re a real interesting guy.”
Dusting off your shirt, you raise a brow. “..Interesting?”
He bends over to pick up his hat, a sinful view that should have you backtracking. “Can’t put my finger on it but...I think I like you.” Indeed, he says it as if it’s a question to himself.
“Pretty straightforward way of putting it..” You try to play it cool, folding your arms against your chest.
He shrugs. “No need to beat around the bush. But uh...Listen..” Mista approaches again, setting his hands on your waist with a small grin. “I can tell you’re pretty bummed at how things ended here so...maybe you can ‘make it up to me’ some other time?”
If only he could see the rainbows and sunshine sprouting in your mind right now.
You clear your throat. “..Yeah?”
“Mhm.”
“..Okay..I’d like that.”
“Sweet.”
Mista’s eyes trail over your face one last time, lingering as he digs something out from his pocket, and sticking it into the crease of your elbow. It might’ve been mysterious and cool if the crumpled paper didn’t immediatelyunravel and fall to the ground..but clearly Mista could care less as he’s already heading for the stairs, leaving you blinking stupidly after him.
“See ‘ya round, cutie.” He throws up a hand, waving goodbye over his shoulder.
You quickly reach down for the piece of paper, smoothing it out the rest of the way and holding it up to the light:
‘xxx-xxx-xxxx
~Guido Mista, available 25/7 Fri-Sat'
“A fucking homemade business card..” You shake your head with a short laugh, shoving the scrap into your pocket.
Somehow, it seems very on brand for someone like him. Though, the state of the ‘card’ makes you think he had handed it out and taken it back several times...you now being the only one who actually got to keep it. You touch your fingers to your lips, glancing at the staircase where Mista’s footsteps have already stopped clacking, and the bracaelte still glowing on your rist..
Seems you really do have good fortune after all.
a/n: My Mista hunger is no where near satiated after this...there will be more in the future, mark my words...
Could you please write the part 4 cast with gn!reader with a speed based stand that has chronic pain in their leg and using their stand makes the pain in their leg worse? But they stay optimistic and still keep using the stand?
(Sorry if this is too specific I just kinda mixed my own problems with my oc’s stand😓✌️)
At first, Josuke thinks your stand is “SO COOL” speed types always catch his attention. Then he sees the limp you try to hide afterward.
“Oi… did you always walk like that?”
You brush it off with a smile. Josuke frowns like a puppy who knows he’s being lied to.
Once he realizes your leg pain gets worse from using your Stand, he becomes insanely protective:
He offers to heal you constantly, even if it won’t fix the core issue.
He tries to convince you to “just let me handle the fighting, okay?”
But he also respects that you WANT to use your Stand.
The moment he sees you push through pain and stay upbeat?
He gets emotional. “You’re seriously incredible, y’know that? But… don’t carry it all by yourself. I’m here too.”
He’ll walk slow for you without making it obvious. He’ll pretend he’s tired, just so you don’t feel like you’re holding anyone back.
Okuyasu:
Okuyasu says the quiet part out loud “Your leg hurts? Why didn’t you SAY something? I woulda carried you!”
You: laughing nervously
Okuyasu: already crouching down like “get on.”
He doesn’t treat you like you’re fragile, he treats you like you’re his buddy and he just wants to help. His support is shameless, loud, and sincere:
He’ll hold your arm without asking.
He’ll yell at your stand “HEY! STOP HURTING THEM, YOU JERK!”
He brings you food because “pain makes ya hungry, right??”
When he sees you stay positive despite everything?
He admires you SO deeply. “You’re strong… stronger than me, for sure.” He says it with zero irony. He means it.
Koichi:
Koichi = softest emotional support.
He’s the first one to notice patterns, the way you hide the wince, or always sit after fights. When you explain the drawback of your Stand, Koichi listens with full focus, nodding gently.
“That must be really hard… but I’m proud of how you handle it.”
He researches stretches, support braces, anything that could help. He NEVER treats you like a burden. If anything, he thinks you’re inspirational. During missions, he always checks in:
“Are you okay? Need a second? We can rest.”
He adjusts his pace for you automatically.
If anyone makes comments about your limp or pain?
Koichi becomes braver than God intended.
“Hey! Don’t talk to them like that!”
Rohan:
Rohan acts like he doesn’t care. But he definitely cares. The first time he sees you use your Stand and then grab your leg after, he pauses, eyes narrowing like he’s analyzing a rare animal.
“Your Stand has a drawback, doesn’t it?” Once he understands the situation, he treats your pain very matter-of-factly:
He refuses to pity you.
He refuses to let you downplay it.
He refuses to let you avoid talking about it.
If you’re optimistic anyway, he both respects and hates it.
“You’re smiling again. You’re either stubborn or foolish.” (Translation: Rohan cares so much he might explode.)
Eventually, he starts adjusting his behavior subtly. Slowing his stride but pretending he’s “thinking about a new manga panel.”
Positioning himself between you and danger. Offering to use Heaven’s Door to gather intel so YOU don’t have to fight. And one day, without thinking, he says:
“If you’re going to insist on being reckless, at least allow me to protect you properly.”
He’s trying.
Yukako:
Oh she notices immediately. Yukako has laser eyes. You can’t hide a single flinch from her. The first time you push through pain to keep up with everyone, she grabs your hand.
“You don’t have to pretend around us.”
She’s fierce about it, protective to the point of intensity. She admires your optimism, but she sometimes gets frustrated at how much you hide your pain.
“You’re allowed to sit. You’re allowed to rest. You don’t have to smile through everything.”
She helps with hair, with makeup, with anything small that saves you physical strain.
She’ll fight anyone who says you’re “weak.”
Actually, she’ll fight them twice.
Jotaro:
When you fight next to him, he immediately catches your post-Stand limp. Jotaro says nothing. Later, he walks beside you and quietly asks “…Your leg. How long has it been like that?”
His concern is subtle but immense. He respects your adaptation, your grit, your optimism. But he also tells you flat-out:
“You don’t need to overexert yourself. We can handle things together.”
Jotaro will not baby you. He will not pity you.
But he WILL position himself so you’re never the one taking the first hit.
You inspire him more than he’ll ever openly admit.
jotaro kujo doesn't like cuddling! but noriaki kakyoin loves it ˚.✦
The moment you three started dating, Jotaro made it clear: he does not enjoy cuddling. He gets sweaty, he doesn’t like the feeling and it makes him uncomfortable and overstimulated. You and Noriaki accepted it without problem, Jotaro showed his care and love through other acts such as taking you out for dates, gifting you details you’d said you like and completely forgot. He does enjoy make out sessions where you spend hours just kissing and teasing each other with a bad movie in the background, he just feels awkward cuddling in bed.
You and Noriaki, on the other hand, are very physical people and die hard cuddlers. So while Jotaro is calmly reading a book on his side of the bed, you and Noriaki are hugging and giggling like highschoolers, twirling your toes together and so on. Your favorite thing to do is laying completely on top of him, resting your cheek on his chest while he scratches your back. Jotaro has found you asleep in that position many times.
When Jotaro feels like talking at night, you and Noriaki are spooning, usually you are the little spoon and he’s the big, but it changes depending on the mood. You and him listen to Jotaro explain his little marine biology research, and you ask him questions to keep him talking because you two know how excited he gets with it.
These past days, he has been more distant for your own likeness. He’s locked in his study, working on his exams like crazy. You know that what he’s studying is hard, but that level of studying can’t be healthy. There was a day where you and Kakyoin barely saw him all day, getting up at 7 a.m. and going to sleep nearly at 3.
“I don’t like what he’s doing, baby,” you tell Noriaki while putting your pajamas on. “Not because he’s not spending time with us, but because he’s overworking himself.”
“Mm, I know.” He gets in the bed, already pulling his arms out so you can bury yourself in them. “But there’s nothing we can do about it, he’s a stubborn motherfucker. He’ll comeback when he needs us”
That’s true, you can’t even deny it. There was one time where you tried to talk Jotaro out of his studio, it ended up with him not talking to you or Kakyoin for two days straight, so bothering him wasn’t an option.
The clock on the nightstand glowed at 1:07 when the bedroom door cracked open, you were half asleep on your back with your head resting on Noriaki’s open arm. The mattress dips hard. Jotaro flops right between you two, shirtless and with his sweatpants. Both you and Kakyoin freeze, not knowing what to do in this situation, it’s the first time this has ever happened. For a second, nobody moved, Jotaro just lay there on his stomach, taking up so much space that both of you had to shift a little. He smells like burnt coffee and a hint of sweat.
“Mm.” Was the only thing he said, not even a word, just a grumpy rumble. His arm moved next, clumsily sliding over your side until his hand found your hip and tugged.
You glanced at Noriaki over Jotaro’s back, he was as confused as you, but he gave you the tiniest nod. Carefully, you turned toward Jotaro and pressed yourself against his side, he was too warm after sitting in his studio for hours without moving.
“Hey,” you whispered. “You okay?”
“Mm.” It was quieter this time, his fingers flexed on your hip, pulling you even tighter until your chest was flush against his ribs.
Noriaki moved too, scooting in from the other side and draping an arm across Jotaro’s back so his hand could rest on your shoulder. The three of you tangled together in a messy pile that would have made Jotaro roll his eyes any other night.
“You’ve been killing yourself with those exams,” Noriaki murmured, his fingers tracing circles between Jotaro’s shoulder blades. “We were worried.”
Jotaro didn’t answer with words. He just turned his face toward you, nose brushing your forehead. His free hand found Noriaki’s wrist and gave it a loose squeeze, like a silent thank you. You could feel how tense his body still was, all those hours of hunching over notes and textbooks locked into his muscles.
You lifted your head just enough to press a soft kiss to the corner of his mouth. “You don’t have to say anything. Just stay like this as long as you need.”
He gave you a little Mm again, this time relieved. Slowly his leg shifted, tangling with yours at the same time his other arm reached back to pull Noriaki closer until he was pressed to his back.
Noriaki kissed the back of Jotaro’s neck. “Sleep, JoJo, we’ve got you.”
Jotaro’s breathing finally evened out, tickling your neck. You stayed awake a little longer, listening to his heartbeat, your fringers drawing tiny starts on Jotaro’s arm just to remind him you were still there. He might not like cuddling on normal nights, but you and Noriaki will cherish these moments with your hearts forever.
stardust crsusartdrs walkging in on reader trying to masturbate in secret🤤🤤 i am in dire need of this slop....
Getting walked in on by the SDC
tags: nsfw, gn! reader, no established relationship, dilf! joseph, kakyoin and polnareff are lowk perverted, also a lot more unserious than i intended lmao, characters are always depicted 18+
a/n: omg this is my first sdc request, im kinda surprised. and of course yall are freaks about it LMAOO (much love 🫶🏽) please enjoy!!
Jotaro Kujo
- it was totally his fault for not knocking in the first place. the one time he didn't think to do so.
- your voice was quiet, your back pressed against the mattress and your head rolled back in ecstasy.
- your hands were working wonders, you were so close. you just needed one more push.
- "hey," jotaro called out the second he opened your door. "what do you want to-"
- "fuck..!" you cursed, quickly scrambling to cover yourself with a blanket. but it was much too late.
- jotaro had seen everything.
- his gaze was sharp, the hat that he wore hiding his eyes as he tipped it downward. but he was glad that you failed to notice the pink on his cheeks.
- but not without oogling at your exposed body, even as you were covered up he had a good mental image.
- you were honestly more terrified that he hadn't said anything and continued to stand there like a brick wall. you wanted to reach around and throw something at him.
- "get- get out..!" you yelled and he wasted no time obliging your orders much to your own relief.
- he closed the door without saying another word, his cheeks still pink as the scene replayed in his head. he had almost forgotten what the hell he went in there for in the first place.
- good fucking grief, you couldn't have waited until he was asleep?
Joseph Joestar
- the issue was that you needed something to help fuel you up. pleasuring yourself felt boring if it was just build up stress. you needed to focus your mind on something else.
- and coincidentally, joseph was the last person you talked to before hitting the hay that night he walked in.
- you moaned his name, melting into the hotel's pillows as you kept your legs spread apart and allowed your hand to do all the work.
- unfortunately for joseph and his big age, his hearing isn't the best. at least thats what he tells himself
- but he was definitely sure he heard you just as he was about to knock at your door. but discarded the thought and walked in anyways.
- "im lending you the car keys for-.. holy shit!" he blurted dramatically, your body freezing on the spot.
- his eyes had seen everything. you were sprawled out on the bed, a fucked out expression on your face. clothes completely scattered to the floor and the sheets were a jumbled mess.
- "mr. joestar..! please get out!" you did very little to cover yourself. i mean, he already saw everything. whats left is for you to just disappear right then and there.
- he cleared his throat, immediately turning around so that you were facing his back.
- "right, right... i was- just going to tell you that i want to leave you with the car keys." he explained, itching to look over his shoulder once again. just out of curiousity.
- but he got no response from you and he took that as his cue to leave.
Mohammad Avdol
- another situation where it was his fault for not knocking. he shouldve known better and he scolds himself internally.
- and oh my, you just looked disgustingly adorable with your legs spread; nearly dangling off the sides of the bed. one arm between your legs and your face blissed out.
- when he barged in, he expected you literally doing anything else. but alas, he was flashed by your nudity
- "oh..? im so sorry.. please, excuse me." avdol cleared his throat when you both made eye contact with each other.
- you quickly covered yourself, seeing as he still had his head turned to look away. your cheeks were flushed and you were sweaty.
- "um.. avdol..?" you weakly called out to him and he stopped in his tracks. you were still really horny and you hadn't come just yet. "do you.. want to help me?"
- he froze in place, almost unable to comprehend what you said to him.
- you wanted him..? to help... you? and he knew this was highly innapropriate. hell, you weren't even together.
- but the heat has gotten to him, along with the stress.
- "if you don't mind," avdol smiles. "i couldn't look away from you when i walked in. you look.. irresistible."
- he looked at you with a lidded gaze.
- and he was quick to close the door behind him and walked over to you.
Noriaki Kakyoin
- he knew what you were up to when he approached your door, wanting to borrow something from you. a reaccuring thing the two of you have done.
- he knew to knock at your door before barging in. his footsteps were always light but before his knuckles could touch the wooden wall, he heard your muffled voice.
- "ohh.. yes..!" you gasped, face pressed against the pillow as you fucked yourself against a toy that you had recently bought. you were bored enough to test it out.
- kakyoin stood outside the door, back pressed with his arms crossed and a little smirk on his face.
- you had no idea that he was out here. and for a while too.
- should he even bother you? he would ask himself, itching to pull his phone out to even go as far as to record you. but he digresses.
- fixing himself up, he gently knocks your door and bites back the laugh that he wanted to let out from you scrambling on the other side of the door. you sounded distressed.
- "it's me," kakyoin already reaches for the door knob. "you okay in there?" the door creaks open.
- and he catches you pantless but with a shirt long enough to cover some part of you.
- "what the fuck..?!" you panted, face completely flushed and your shirt wrinkled.
- "whoops." he turned to look the other way. "you're not that slick as you'd think." he chuckles.
- and all you wanted to do was crawl to the closest dark space and hide your face away forever.
Jean Pierre Polnareff
- this was wrong. he knew this was wrong and he felt like a dirty, pervert for intruding your personal space.
- his mouth felt dry, his hands trembled slightly as the grip he had on your doorknob tightened.
- all it took was one moan. one noise coming from your room and he had his ear pressed against the door like a creep.
- on the other side of the door, you fucked yourself against your favorite toy. your legs were trembling.
- and you were thinking about polnareff. his big strong arms and his big strong chest trapping you.
- but the french man felt the same about you, any little hint you threw at his direction of you being a tease seriously got to him. and he it followed him when he was alone, touching himself.
- but you wished he was here right now, watching you make a complete mess out of yourself.
- you felt that familiar feeling pooling by your tummy, your free hand desperate to hold on to something. anything.
- and you came all over the toy, your eyes completely shut as you bit your lower lip.
- polnareff had walked in at the right time, he stood there with his mouth slightly agape. did he hear his name correctly?
- and once you opened your eyes, you tensed up when you actually see him there.
Hihi! It's the anon who sent an ask regarding Mista and gun kink here! If it's not too much trouble, is it alright if I ask on how you see Mista? I'm quite curious, honestly. To be honest, I find myself being magnetised by his character but weirdly enough I can't get a grasp of who he is like as a character.
MINI MISTA MEEP MIVE
Hey anon! This little yap is ALL over the place lmao, but its just a bunch of his character to me and also little things around the number 4 at the end!
Okay letsss get into my kinda deep dive on Mista! This is going to be a little sad, but it's how I see his character.. But if anyone wants to give me more info for things I've missed or if I'm mischaracterising please do let me know! <3
Yeah IDK if i can call it mini anymore lol.
Word Count - 1500
I'm gonna put the TL/DR version here in case people don't care to read the entire thing.
How I see Mista as a character is someone who is very loyal and caring, but so prepared to do what's needed of him.
Yes he's funny and easy going but I think he has such a deep seated loneliness in his heart that makes him so open. I think he has.. Less than great intuition, trusting Giorno very quickly even though he doesn't know him in the slightest. But I think it's not particularly him being naïve either.
I think that he is willing to die and to kill for his friends, no matter the cost. Because it's something so deep ingrained into him that he desires that love and friendship that he would rather not be a part of it at all as long as it means they'll be okay.
And no I don't think he wants to die. But when it comes to choosing his life or his friends? He'll choose to throw himself into danger as many times as he needs to.
Okay so lets talk his stand first. It's pretty rare that people even have colony stands in general, only really a handful of characters have them.
But his is interesting because yes the others are in some way semi sentient and even some can talk (Bad company/Harvest), but his is the only one that is COMPLTELY sentient (from anime only, I am not sure if there are others that are in 7-9 , so please correct me if so.) Even so much as having full conversations and even rivalling each other. But can also act fully separate from the user, even when he is actively dying and also unconscious.
But lets talk about WHY I think he has a colony stand.
In his backstory there is not a single moment that Mista isn't shown to be alone, yes he is himself as very relaxed and even the narrator calls him "Simpleminded." And I truly do think that he enjoys his life, he lives the way he wants to and doesn't mind that he is in that way alone.
But I think he IS lonely, before GW starts especially and after it ends, I feel that he ignores it because, as he says, he believes overthinking just causes unnecessary fear. But under all that relaxed happy life I think he doesn't have anyone and it's something that he desperately craves, not even necessarily as just a relationship. I mean friends.
On top of this let's talk about just how fast he joined Passione, yes Bruno bails him out and he of course owes him his life, but if it was anyone else...
Would YOU seriously be willing to give up your happy life to join the Mafia just because someone gives you the option to go back to that life? No. None of us would. I think he was absolutely in some way unhappy in that life.
Yes he might be chill and happy on his own. But the lack of that deep or even the surface level friendships drags him down.
Which is why I think he joined so fast, he clearly lives alone (at 17 by the way...) I think he was so taken aback that Bruno was willing to not only bail him out but also was only ASKING for him to join, he could have said no at any time. And it makes him want that friendship more than anything. It makes him feel useful and wanted.
Which is exactly why I think his stand manifests as fully sentient, because even though we don't know much about his past, I think he's been alone for a long time.
Long enough that he gives up trying to stop being alone and instead just goes with what life wants from him, choosing to enjoy his own company than trying to make connections that never stick.
But I think he desires it. And that's why not only does he have a colony stand but I think that's why it shows up in the way it does.
It's companionship.
And he's so agonisingly loyal that he doesn't care what happens to him as long as he can protect the people that gave him that friendship. Ghiaccio's fight especially.
He was so willing to die for a boy he BARELY knows, all because he trusted him and that it was the right thing to do.
I think that'll only get worse after GW also, he becomes Giorno's only friend and I think because he's all he has left I think he would do anything that Giorno asked of him.
But lets talk dynamic a little bit.
I think that he actually takes after Bruno quite a lot. He is so devoted to him as a person that he starts unconsciously making sure that everyone else is okay before he is. Choosing to take the brunt of the fights, the brunt of the violence to protect his team.
He is obviously a lot more openly playful, completely enjoying his life and does whatever he thinks is fun/funny when he doesn't need to be locked in.
But I think the second he's by himself again the loneliness creeps back in, less so overthinking but I think it definitely still happens. No one can fully just stop worrying and overthinking.
I can imagine that it's not something that keeps him awake at night, nor is something that eats away at him.
But I still feel that not only the trauma of taking someone's life adds up, it doesn't matter if it was for what he believes is right, and I don't think he would regret it, not entirely. But their blood is on his hands nonetheless. And it'll add up even if he never tells anyone that.
He is genuinely just friendly and caring to everyone that he trusts and I think it makes him such an easy person to become friends with, he's funny, he's engaging with the entire gang and even to random people that he doesn't think want to... You know, murder them.
But he's so insanely capable of the cruelty that is needed of him, his entire stand is perfect for protection, for killing. He would kill for the people that he cares about, he's the only one bar Bruno that we see fully willing to kill outright from the very beginning. Especially for his friends.
And now the thing everyone memes about his character.
The number 4.
It's either a very serious Tetraphobia or OCD, as someone who doesn't have OCD I'm not here to diagnose so I will instead just talk about it as a whole.
He clearly gets incredibly anxious over the number, and for the viewer it's almost humorous at the very beginning when he's griping over cake.
But to him? It isn't funny.
He genuinely believes that something terrible will happen around the number 4, to the point where he needs it to be avoided in any case.
The cake. The boat.
Mista being the 4th person Bruno picks up.
That number 5 gets bullied so relentlessly because it IS bullet 4
The multiple times that he only has 4 bullets left or in the chamber.
He never shoots 4 bullets all at once (that I can remember) He staggers them. But also the need for Trish to knock the bullet from his hand because SHE was the one to drop him not him.
Which is insanely obsessive behaviour because he thinks that he can't do it for her. And it'll solidify in his mind that it was the reason when something bad happens right after.
But guess what? It is shown to be insanely unlucky throughout the ENTIRE part...
The date that they betray Diavolo and Bruno Bucciarati 'dies' - April 2nd.
The date that Narancia and Diavolo die and it ends - April 6th.
4 days apart.
Lets talk really quick on the 4's surrounding his teammate's deaths.
Abbacchio takes the 4th piece of the cake at the very beginning.
Bruno "dies" on the 2nd and then dies on the 6th. 4 days apart.
Narancia dies when there is 4 bullets on the floor that Trish drops.
I can imagine that this causes him a LOT of panic any time it shows up, especially after GW because it all solidifies to him that he was right every time that it happened and most likely makes him stray from it even further out of genuine terror that it'll happen again.
I also think he will have a great deal of survivors guilt over the entire mission after Giorno becomes don, I think it would cause a lot of friction at first, hell even for a while. Especially if he ever found out about Giorno's plan to overthrow the boss from the start.
He would absolutely also want to seek Fugo out, he would be the last remaining member of his team from before and I think he would need that rather than lose everything he finally had in less than a week.
He may be less traumatised than the others but that to me, doesn't make him any less tragic </3
first boyfriend!josuke higashikata fluff headcanons ˚.✦
first boyfriend!josuke higashikata who was your friend before asking you out. He sat close to you the first day at school and your friendship bloomed easily, he was very chatty from the beginning, asking you tons of questions somehow without being awkward.
first boyfriend!josuke higashikata who asked you to study together because you have problems with a subject he’s good at and he has problems with a subject you’re good at. A perfect match!!
first boyfriend!josuke higashikata who asks you on a date after months of being friends, leaving a note with a flower in your locker, telling you to wait outside of the gym. When you arrived there and found Josuke, you told him immediately: “Josuke, oh my god, you aren’t going to believe this! Some stupid guy tried to prank me, making me think someone was confessing, ugh! I’m glad you’re here, let’s go grab something to eat.”
first boyfriend!josuke higashikata who wasn’t moving, head down trying to hide his blush that reached his ears. “Why… why do you think it’s a prank?” he asked, pouting a little but you can’t see anything, you’re focused on getting out of there already. “It’s obvious! I’m where the letter told me to be, and there’s no one here!”
first boyfriend!josuke higashikata who gathers all his courage and fear of ruining the friendship. “I am here.” It takes you a few seconds to understand what he was talking about. You blink and try to reach for his eyes but he takes a step back, turning his back to you. You reread the letter, realizing that it is Josuke’s handwriting.
first boyfriend!josuke higashikata who just wants you to reject him and to get out of there, his body can’t take the embarrassment anymore. Then he feels how you tap on his shoulder. “Hey, Josuke. Could you turn around, please?” you ask, trying to see him from above his shoulder, but he’s turning his face to the opposite side. “No…” he says, swallowing. “Okay! Would you tell me what you were planning to tell me, please?”
first boyfriend!josuke higashikata who doesn’t know if you were trying to embarrass him more or what, but he took a deep breath and (with his back still turned towards you), told you: “I was… kinda planning to ask you out. On a date… to the cinema or the arcade, I don’t know.”
first boyfriend!josuke higashikata who doesn’t believe it when he hears you saying: “I’d love that, Josuke.” He turns around at that moment, seeing you with a tiny smile and heat in your cheeks. “R-really?” He swallows, rubbing the back of his neck as you nod. “Yes! Does this Saturday sound good?” He’s now the one nodding vigorously. “Yes, yes! I’ll come pick you up at four.”
first boyfriend!josuke higashikata who’s a total gentleman on the first date and on the ten that follows. He takes you to the cinema and the arcade, to a nice Italian restaurant, to a bookshop and even for a picnic at the park. He loves seeing how you get more and more confident, being more relaxed around him.
first boyfriend!josuke higashikata who makes you laugh very easily with his anecdotes or just with stupid jokes. The sound of your laugh is music for him.
first boyfriend!josuke higashikata who asks you if he can kiss you goodnight on the sixth date, even though he’s terrified. When you confess that you’ve never kissed anyone, he sighs in relief because he’s never kissed anyone either!!
first boyfriend!josuke higashikata who you invite to your house to kiss. That’s the hang out, just kiss. It’s messy and embarrassing at first, teeth and nose clashing together, but at some point everything becomes smoother. Your lips find a way of fitting together, his hands rest loosely on your waist as you sit on his lap with your arms tickling the back of his neck. Every now and then you separate with your breaths ragged to say sweet nothings and giggle.
first boyfriend!josuke higashikata who after the make out session keeps you tucked by his side, playing with your fingers, but not really talking.
first boyfriend!josuke higashikata who asks you to be his boyfriend at that moment, seeing you with your plump lips and shining eyes after all that kissing. He asks you to be his girlfriend looking at you straight in the eye, totally different as how he confessed the first time.
first boyfriend!josuke higashikata who squeaks when you tell him yes and pulls you in a big and tight hug, squishing your cheek against his chest and filling your face with kisses.
first boyfriend!josuke higashikata who loves walking hand in hand, swinging them together and bringing your knuckles to his mouth to kiss them every once in a while.
first boyfriend!josuke higashikata who lets you fix his hair when some strands fall, taking his comb and putting them back in place with gentleness and a kiss on the cheek at the end.
first boyfriend!josuke higashikata who’s really into physical touch and words of affirmation, telling you how pretty you look today with a hand on your waist and making you spin on your heels.
first boyfriend!josuke higashikata who carries your bag if he sees that it’s bothering you, swinging it on his shoulder as you just roll your eyes.
first boyfriend!josuke higashikata who sometimes can’t believe that he is with someone as funny and gorgeous as you, making him sigh of love when he sees you opening the door of your house to receive him and jumping into his arms for a kiss.
first boyfriend!josuke higashikata who makes sure that your first year anniversary is perfect, he’s been saving up for a while to take you to your favorite restaurant and to stargaze on the top of a hill. He gives you a big bouquet of your favorite flowers and when you least expect it, he shows the necklace he’s been hiding around his neck, with your initials on it. “I bought one with mine too, if you want to match…” You say yes at that very moment, asking him to put it on for you. Then you spent the rest of the night making out while watching the stars and talking about nothing.
Hello!! 🥹🥹 this is my first time requesting something on tumblr im so NERVOUS SOSHSHSJSJEJD
could I request joestars x reader who’s famous/is in an idol group? To be more precise they didn’t know she was an idol at first or when dating her until she gives them a free ticket to a concert (unbeknownst to them it’s to hers). At first they were like “oh alright thanks for giving me this ticket to a random concert, I’ll meet you there??”, when they get there the place is PACKEDDDD like…TWICE concert kind of packed? and they’re trying to look for reader. The stage lights up and everyone’s going CRAZYY, they look out of curiosity only to see ITS READER HERSELFFF EVERYONE LOOK SURPRISED AAAAHHH
After the concert ends (and reader finishes signing the thousands of autographs people lined up for🫠) she immediately finds the lucky joestar and starts gushing about how grateful she is that they even came. Meanwhile, said joestar is still processing like “how on earth did you keep THIS a secret..“ but it’s okay cause they’re technically her number one fan now🤷
Lowk got this idea when listening to more more jump or js kpop🙏 this request is quite long, so please take your time! No rush whatsoever. I love your works/fics they’re so well written and you characterize the jojo chars amazingly, thank you.!! ⸜(｡˃ ᵕ ˂ )⸝♡💗💗
𝐉𝐎𝐉𝐎𝐒' 𝐗 𝐈𝐃𝐎𝐋! 𝐑𝐄𝐀𝐃𝐄𝐑 𝐇𝐂𝐒
A/n ; HELLOOO SWEETIEE!!!! i saw ur other msg in my inbox and it's perfectly fine! And thank youuuu I'm so happy to know that!! ～(つˆДˆ)つ｡☆ Hope you enjoy sweets !
Dividers by @/cursed-carmine
fluff , x gn reader , pt1-6 , established relationship , modern AU
~
JONATHAN JOESTAR .
— ☆ Delighted to take the ticket, even if he doesn't know what concert it is for; he's just happy to spend more time with you.
— ☆ Honestly, he's very nervous. He's used to large crowds since his family is quite wealthy and tends to host very over the top parties—but this? He's absolutely aghast at how many people are present. He's squeezing his way through while muttering little excuse mes and sorries. He looked around for at least a glimpse of you in the ocean of people.
— ☆ Due to the lights being so bright, he had to take a look at what the crowd was going mad for. Everything turned to background noise the moment he saw... you. On the stage and waving to everyone excitedly—the blast of music couldn't even startle him because he was fixed on you.
— ☆ After everything ends, he's stunned by your performance, and might have just fallen in love with you again. When you are finally finished with signing the endless autographs and spot his figure in the crowd. His arms, on instinct, open wide to welcome you into a hug. A warm smile gracing his lips.
“My dear..I don't even know where to begin. You were simply amazing out there!”
— ☆ Immediately took the spot for your number one fan. When you gush to him about how grateful you are to have him here, he chuckles and pulls you into a long, tender kiss. He's extremely supportive and very doting.
JOSEPH JOESTAR .
— ☆ Would be a little confused at the random ticket but will take it nonetheless. He'd definitely throw a flirty remark saying he'll be waiting for you.
— ☆ He's clueless on where to find you in such a packed place, and he isn't used to such places either. However, he manages through and peeks his head (thanks to his enormous height) from the waves of other heads to check where you are.
— ☆ He's bombarding you with messages asking “Sweetcheeks where are you??” , “Baby tell me where you are so I can pick you up” and “Hunnyyy don't leave your handsome boyfriend on read..” It was just a brief glance he had to take towards the stage to realize his partner was already there. Just not in the crowd. He almost drops his phone to the ground while you dance. Absolutely BRICKED- uh I mean FLUMMOXED.
— ☆ He just stares in a lovesick manner at you while you sign all your fans' autographs. Moment you notice him, he's waving at you enthusiastically. You two run to eachother with your arms thrown open. He lifts you into the air and twirls around with a big laugh escaping him.
“Why didn't you tell me my babe was famous?! Awe you did so beautiful!”
— ☆ Kisses. He's smothering you in them, he doesn't care whether you're sweaty or trying to tell him how happy you are to have him here—he's giving you such affection that makes you accept silence. Also very supportive, and brags about you to Caesar and to his other friends, because he likes them to constantly be reminded he bagged someone attractive and famously known, which is you.
JOTARO KUJO .
— ☆ This man is so busy it's unreal. He can't even take a piss in peace, so you'll have to give him the ticket where it's scheduled on a Saturday. Since his schedule has some time on that day, and he has dearly missed you. He agrees, and what's a better way to spend time together other than a date? At home preferably for him, likes to have you snug to him in a cosy blanket.
— ☆ Immediately puts his earphones on when he arrives, so his ears don't bleed from all the screeching fans. He's also a bit uneasy in such crowds, so he kept in mind when you do arrive, to inquiry you on why you'd do this to him. And at the exact moment he opens his eyes to scan his surroundings, his eyes land on you. Pauses. His earphones disconnect and one fell from his ear—he was amazed by your performance. And everything else.
— ☆ Still slightly stunned. He patiently waits for you to finish—and gets noticeably irritated when a fan tries to touch you. When you finally see him, he's already walking over with that air of nonchalance. As you tell him how grateful you are to have him here, he'll smile softly as all your words go right out of his other ear—still transfixed on you.
“You looked..really amazing on the stage. How come you didn't tell me earlier you were an idol?”
— ☆ Kisses the crown of your head gently in a secluded area, and takes you somewhere where the both of you can relax. He's supportive as well, despite his lack of knowledge on the industry, he does his best to make you happy and less tensed. Comes to your next concert; he tells he's there for support, yes, but he's also there to just admire you too.
JOSUKE HIGASHIKATA .
— ☆ Is jumping around when you give him the ticket. He loves concerts! And a concert date? Bingo! He's already destroying his room on which outfit he should wear.
— ☆ He's taken aback at how many people are there and tries his best to stay in areas where there are less. He thinks you might have gotten caught in traffic since you were running pretty late. But the moment when his eyes look to the stage, his jaw falls to the floor. He's baffled, and hyping you up!!!
— ☆ He's shaking in his shoes to just jump onto you, but he knows better. Josuke waits, vibrating from excitement, as he watches you sign multiple autographs. When you see him, he's already running to you. Traps you in a breath taking hug, and he grins when you say how grateful you are for him to be here.
“Oh my god! How'd I even get blessed with such a partner like you??”
— ☆ Second he's gone home, he's buying everything that's your theme. Albums, posters, lightstabers, your plushie, everything. And that's how he gets the title as your number one fan. He's very encouraging and affectionate.
GIORNO GIOVANNA .
— ☆ Accepts it with such a soft smile it makes you fold. He doesn't mind the fact he's not sure what the concert is hosting for, he's just happy to go on a very well deserved date with you and possibly, catch up with you.
— ☆ He's moving through the crowd with unwavering grace, he's gone numb to large groups of people but he has to admit...he is quite surprised at how much are present—he wonders who this person/group could be. He's looking around for you, and when he briefly looks at the stage, he has to take a double check whether his eyes are fooling him. He's perplexed but catches himself—the noticeable hue of pink grows across his cheeks.
— ☆ Very patiently waits for you to finish up with everything. He's still trying to process his partner is a famous idol; and when you notice him, he shyly waves at you. When you tell him how grateful you are to have him here, he smiles softly and wraps his arm around your waist.
“Mio caro/mia cara, you looked like an angel on the stage. I couldn't take my eyes off you.”
— ☆ He's praising you, without limits—he just can't help himself! The memory of him seeing you on stage for the first time will always be stored in his mind forever. Also like one of his bio papas, very supportive and very doting. He only wants the best for you.
JOLYNE CUJOH .
— ☆ She's coming. No second thoughts, she's coming. Even if she doesn't know who the concert is held for—her ass is NOT dipping out from a cute date with you.
— ☆ Jolyne is kinda of shocked at how many people are there, she reconsiders if this place might even be a good spot for a date. Just like her papa, she's not overly fond of big crowds. Sure she's okay sometimes, but other times when she has to stay for long, she starts to get a little overstimulated. Jolyne gives a quick look around and choked when she saw you on stage. On stage. She's awed by you for the rest of the performance.
— ☆ Guaranteed, her gallery is maxed to the brim with pictures and videos of you performing. And she goes through them while she eagerly waits for you to wrap things up. When you see her, she's already calling your name with a big grin. Hugs you. Tightly. And then cups your face in her hands and kisses you, softly.
“Oh my goodness! You were amazing out there! I can't believe I'm dating you! C'mere!”
— ☆ Kisses. Lots of them. She's smudging her signature lipstick all over your skin like a mark that you're happily taken. Definitely takes you out for a nice dinner afterwards, you have to be rewarded for that astonishing performance! And also because she loves to spoil you.
Can I pretty please get your thoughts on who in JJBA would prefer to have a chubby s/o? Totally not for self indulgence (yes it is). Like s/o wears not baggy clothing for once and shows off their curves and they are just hearing the Romeo and Juliet overture.
Big fan of your work btw!!!!
Who in JJBA would prefer a Chubby S/O - Headcannons - SFW/NSFW
A/N- This uh, this was almost gonna be 4k words, BUT I SHANT. I WILL HAVE SELF CONTROL TODAY... Mostly! I love this so much, like genuinely I could name A BUNCH (Others not in this would absolutely be Mista/Jolyne/Caesar) But if I do more we will be here all day hehehe. Thank youu for the request! I hope you enjoy my little ramblings! This may be a lil freakier than you were expecting hehe, i got a lil carried away with Avdol OOPS, i did it x Reader for funsies LMAO
(Of course I asked the OP if they wanted SFW/NSFW i didn't just make it NSFW lol)
♡ Headcannons ♡
Word Count - 2200
.MINORS DNI.
Polnareff.
The top one is just literally… It’s Pol.
SFW -
He would fucking ADORE a chubby S/O. He will absolutely try and get you to wear more form fitting/revealing clothing because he will hype you up so MUCH like…
Constant praise and the sweetest compliments all with a disgusting love sick expression on his face as he watches you do ANYTHING at all.
If you ever feel self conscious he knows… Instantly.
He sees that tiny twitch in your fingers before you try to adjust your clothing because it feels suffocating, he’s on you before you can.
He will do ANYTHING to prove to you just how perfect you are, and if you still feel bad about yourself?
He’ll take you home with some food/snacks and snuggle with you until you feel better, there’s never any expectation from him that you need to do or be anything but yourself.
This man will destroy any negative thoughts from your head as soon as he can, he never wants you to think that you're not perfection and he WILL make sure you know that you are.
Pol loves to eat too so he will not let you feel bad about eating ever, no matter how little or much you eat, but if he thinks you're not eating because of your weight? He will lean over to you and feed you bits of his food for you to try.
Because it genuinely hurts him to think that you don't think you're divine.
NSFW -
The pinnacle of “sit on my face”
He will be upset and so dramatic if you do not put your weight full on him, and does not care about the gender. He can handle it. HE WANTS TO HANDLE IT.
He is incredibly handsy (if you let him, if you don’t like to be touched he will be extremely attentive to that)
Will whisper the most beautiful things to you during anything intimate, usually in French, and repeat it in your native tongue.
He wants teach you the French names he calls you so you know what he’s saying, his favourite's are “my joy” and “my soulmate” but if you're both feeling... More worked up. Or he's jealous? Just one word.
"Mine."
If you’re feeling self conscious about how you look during sex you better hope he doesn’t notice, it goes from the sweet silly sex to… Intense. Very fast…
He won’t hurt you but he’s gonna make you feel every second with such perfect precision as he gasps and moans out how perfect you are and how hard you make him just seeing you.
Do not let this man be in private with you if you wear more revealing clothing, you won't get anything done... At all. It doesn't matter what it is, pretty clothes? He's hard. His shirt and some shorts/underwear...
He just gives you this massive grin as he stands and grabs you before you can go do what you wanted to, most of the time he doesn't even want sex unless you want it and ask. He will just be getting on his knees so he can please you.
If you want sex though? You're gonna be in for a long night, he will make it as long as he can just so he gets to watch you longer.
I just know I'm gonna get ripped for this one..
Rohan Kishibe.
HEAR ME OUT, OKAY, HEAR ME OUT!
I HAVE NEVER BEEN WRONG!
SFW-
Yes, canonically he is very judgemental, and also very into his fitness.
However if you get past that initial “I’m gonna be an asshole to feel superior” BS he does, he will taper off fast, he doesn’t mean to be as… Insensitive as he is sometimes.
I genuinely don’t see him insulting how you look, outside of first meeting him, especially if it's early in DIU.
ESPECIALLY If you shut him down and rip him to shreds right back.
I'm ngl though, I do not think you could be his friend if you're self conscious about what he says, unless you happen to be friends with like Koichi or by luck of him meeting you and not hating you immediately, he is not gonna apologise if he hurts your feelings unless he really cares.
But if you're friends, like actually friends? Not a single word is gonna be about how you look negatively. I don’t even think that he would nudge you to being “Healthy.” (I was trying to find a better word because like, being chubby/fat doesn't even mean you're unhealthy lmao but, y'all get what I mean by it.)
He genuinely does not care what you do with your body as long as you’re happy and not hurting yourself.
He will however, especially as a S/O, kinda just ignore what you like to eat LMAO, like he gets food for him and just kinda…
Doesn’t pay attention if you want something that he wouldn't eat, he won’t care if you buy it though. He cares about you a lot, the food that you eat on a day to day though? Could not care less, he has more important things to think about.
His words… On multiple occasions.
He would adore you as a partner though.
He doesn't initially have a preference for what he finds attractive, bro doesn't think he even LIKES anyone. But then when his feelings creep it? He couldn't imagine being with anyone but you.
He doesn’t do compliments, he isn’t good with saying his feelings...
But it’s so obvious… Like… So obvious, his eyes follow you fucking everywhere. And he doesn’t even realise how in love he actually looks. Like… Lazy smile, light blush, lidded eyes THE ENTIRE TIME HE LOOKS AT YOU. It makes it really easy to not get self conscious when ROHAN KISHIBE looks at you like that.
If you wear tight clothes? Oh yeah, he is getting no work done, he will demand you to pose/get comfortable so he can draw you, since you wanted to "interrupt his work." If you tease him about it?
"Don't flatter yourself, it's just for inspiration." Okay Rohan. If you say so...
He takes his goddamn time too, like… We all know that he could do it fast, he’s taking like upwards of an hour, and he’s just staring at you 90% of the time. If you bring it up?
He gets huffy and the whole “Whatever… If you don't want to let me draw you then you can leave.”
If you move even a little though? The cutest scared look on his face as he makes a little complaining noise to stop you. Might even beg if you get him in a needy mood.
NSFW -
Literally a continuation of the last point, it is SO obvious the effect you have on him, he’s still in his chair but the second he shifts?
He’s literally having to bite back a moan cos he’s so turned on just looking at you that even moving has him a flustered mess, trying not to just stop sketching you and pin you under him.
Speaking about manhandling…
We’ve all watched Thus Spoke Rohan Kishibe… Right?
IF YOU HAVENT GO WATCH IT RN
Bro has a high lift limit, if he thinks he can, he will pick you up just to prove he can. He will get turned on immediately though, if you let him he will GENTLY pick you up, throw you over his shoulder/throw you on his bed.
Like he is INSANELY strong, I'd rewatch the episode to find out what weight he was actually lifting but if I listen to Rohan grunting for 20 mins you aint pulling me back to this fic…
WILL draw you after you finish…
He has whole sketchbooks that he keeps safe of hundreds of drawings of you like that.
Will stop before he finishes just to draw you… It would be a shame that when he's not inside you… that you make him finish... While he tries to draw you… WHO WOULD SAY THAT THIS ON MY TOTALLY FAMILY FRIENDLY POST???
He's not a very handsy person but he will hold your waist/touch you A LOT during sex, it's the time you'll actually get him super affectionate because it feels so intimate.
Welcome to my ted talk, where I say this man's name and you all nod in agreement cos you know I'm right.
MUHAMMED AVDOL???
Yes! He is!
SFW -
He would not only, not care at ALL how much you weigh or what you look like, but he fucking LOVES IT.
Initially before he falls for you he is genuinely indifferent. Not the type of like.. Oh they’re fat/chubby/skinny I’m judging a little but whatever.
He DOES NOT care at all, he thinks literally everyone is beautiful in their own way, no judgement in any part of this mans entire being.
He is as gentlemanly as he comes across to everyone else. But with you?
It is PAINFULLY intimate, gentle hands holding you as he whispers soft loving words to you whenever he gets the chance, he adores holding you. All the time. Do not (BUT FR DO THOUGH) tease this man though because he gets FLUSTERED insanely fast, like…
He is stuttering if you press yourself against him to do anything, but if you sit on his lap? Yeah he is not saying a single word to anyone until he gets his composure back so he doesn't embarrass himself, and he only gets it back after you move. Even though his arm is wrapped around your waist lmao.
You are so soft and warm and he wants to hold you so bad but you always tease him it in public and it drives him crazy.
But he’s a gentleman...
NSFW -
Wrong.
No the fuck he is not.
Yes he is sweet, he is loving. He is such a gentleman. And then you get him in private and all of those thoughts he’s been having of you all day…
Yeah he is telling you, he’s still flustered like CRAZY. He even apologises every time.
Full nervous swallow as he averts his eyes and just “I’m sorry my heart… I didn’t mean to think of you in such a vulgar way. I know you just wanted to hold my hand.”
You’re gonna need to reassure him that he is in fact allowed to think of you in a sexual way, the more confident he gets with your sweet words though?
You better hope YOU don’t blush easily. Because his words are anything but gentlemanly, if you were to ever tell someone? They’d never believe you. Ever.
An example for all of you little FREAKS (lovingly).
“It was a shame we were in public when Polnareff called you pretty earlier, I’d have bent you over in front of him so he could see just how pretty you look when you finish on my tongue.”
He would never do it, ever. But saying it? That's a different thing entirely.
And he will tease you every time that he does.
It’s almost terrifying when something gets him worked up in public because he will give you this little look with a tilt of his head and a terrifying smile that only you see as anything but loving.
He loves looking into your eyes when you finish, but something about bending you over and getting to see your body while he fucks you?
Oh god. It makes him feral.
It’s the only time he’s even remotely rough with you because he literally can’t control how desperate he gets when he sees you like that.
He is HANDSY too, like not a single moment will his hands not be gripping you and it gets him so hard because he loves feeling you.
He gets you to touch yourself instead of him while you have sex because he can’t beat the thought of moving his hands off of you.
RIDE HIM RIDE HIM RIDE HIM.
He will finish FAST, insanely so.
He doesn’t let you stop riding him though, he will guide you to keep going and chase your own pleasure, no matter how overstimulated he is.
If he needs a break he will take one and drop to his damn knees so you can still feel good while he gets his breath back.
Jonathan… Motherfucking… Joestar.
SFW -
You’re gonna try and tell me this absolute sweetheart of a man wouldn’t be in love with you immediately? WRONG.
Literally you are a deity to him and he is so gentlemanly about it but he is FLUSTERED. He will absolutely compliment you in the most gentle way too. Is SPECIFIC with his compliments even though he's blushing like crazy and starts panicking half way through.
"You have the most beautiful body... Oh no. Is that vulgar to say? I didn't mean... Please accept my apology."
He tries to hard to be a sweet kind man and you just look up (bro is tall) at him with a smile and he is stuttering out his little apologies like he’s sorry for even looking at you.
He will never touch you unless you want him to, not even in a sexual way either, he wants to hug you/hold your hand CONSTANTLY, but it makes him so nervous because he thinks so highly of you and doesn’t want to make you feel like you have to touch him or be held.
If you like to be held though he will not even hesitate, pulling you into him like he’s been waiting for it all day.
He has.
When you wear something more revealing/form fitting though? Oh god, yeah no he cannot look at you in any way.
He is BLUSHING like crazy, like bright red because he can’t stop his wandering eyes. If you tell him it's okay and he can look? He is staring at you like he’s memorising you like this so he never forgets it.
If his gaze lingers? He will apologise immediately when he realises, like, head in his hands muffled sorry over and over.
Please just make this man look.
NSFW -
He is so shy around you it’s insane, he’s always so gentlemanly and sophisticated but every time he looks at you he gets… Less than pure thoughts about you.
He can’t even voice them to you because he feels so bad about it until he starts avoiding you and you just confront him over it and it all just comes spilling out like he can’t stop it.
He is apologising SO much, literally every single few seconds is another sad apology.
But the second you tell him it's okay? It all kinda freezes because yes.. He wants to not think of you like that because it isn't fair to you but then you’re sat in front of him with a grin over all of the things he’s ashamed of?
It makes him so hard he can’t even think straight.
The first time he gets to touch you in a sexual way? He is FUCKED up, eyes wide and completely black because his pupils are so dilated, all while his fingers touch literally everywhere you’ll let him because he is genuinely in awe that you’re so perfect and you’re letting him touch you.
Sex is ALWAYS intimate, he has to look at you.
He is a big man and he knows it, he will be nervous but oh god so eager to please you and tell you just how beautiful he thinks your body is. He is VOCAL over it. Like, a lot.
He can’t help but grip your waist when he’s inside of you, will absolutely want to touch your stomach if you let him.
He is sobbing out praises about how much he loves you and you’ll believe every one because he is literally choking them out while trying not to finish even before he MOVES.
tags: fluff, sfw, no warnings, established relationship, takes place in part 2, gn! reader, reader is NOT a hamon user
a/n: i love writing for characters who literally have NOTHING written for them!
"yoohoo!"
you heard a familiar voice call out to you, all while you were seated in one of the tables outside of a new café eatery that had opened a week prior. it was a lovely day today and it was also your day off. you figured that maybe taking your lover out for a brunch date was a good idea, especially since she's already all cooped up with lisa lisa that you almost felt bad. your girl needed a break and luckily enough, you managed to convince to call the day off to come join you.
you perked up in your seat, immediately scrambling up to your feet as you were face to face with suzi. she wasted no time wrapping her arms around you in a tight, bear hug. has it really been a while since you've seen each other?
"my sweet, you look amazing!" you blurted, taking her hand once you pulled away and twirled her around so you could get a good look. she was wearing a frilly, summer dress. a cherry red one with flowers that patterned across the cotton stitching. "im so glad you could join me today. i'm surprised they gave you the day off."
"lisa lisa is always so kind to me." she smiles. "i had another maid take over my place. i couldn't pass up the opportunity to see you again." a red hue spread across her cheeks as she gave your hand a small squeeze.
you guided her inside the cafe and already you were hit with the aroma of espresso shots and freshly baked bread. the lights were warm and dimmed, the seats were crowded but still relatively comfortable, and there was a soft piano playlist playing in the background. a handful of people were already inside, some ordering and others were already seated as they chatted up with each other.
you and suzi waited in line, your hands beginning to feel a little sweaty when she held on to your arm. it's been a few weeks, she's definitely changed a little bit. her hair had gotten a little longer, her eyes would make you feel warm anytime she'd look at you and her hands were soft. you wanted to safe up enough money to live in the outskirts, a comfortable enough house with a big plot of land with her right at your side. you didnt want her to be a maid forever but thats what she was paid to do.
"what are you gonna order, amore?" she called out to you with a slight nudge. you didnt realize it was already your turn at the counter.
after you had placed an order, you placed a hand on her lower back as you managed to get the window tables near the back of the building. you let out a small sigh the second you sat down and already she was staring at you with a big grin.
"whats the matter?" you chuckled sheepishly.
"i can't help but admire you." she started with a hum. "you're just too cute. i've missed you a lot."
you swallowed thickly at her words, it was hard to play it cool when she praised you so much. especially in that sweet voice of hers, sometimes you question how lucky you were for her to be part of your life. she already does so much for you.
the days have been getting harder when you had time apart from one another. you couldn't bare the idea of seeing her once a month, maybe even two times if you were fortunate enough.
"oh, suzi..." you started, your lips pouting slightly. "you have no idea how long i've been waiting for this day. just to see you doing well makes me happy." you reached for her hands and she reciprocated the gesture.
"you already so much for me, amorino!" she giggles. "haven't i told you that you can stop by anytime to visit me?" she teased.
"i wouldnt want to bother you while you're at work. and besides, i've also been busy with my own schedule." you explained. "lisa lisa kinda scares me."
"she's not that bad at all, you're only saying that because of her stare." suzi waved a dismissive hand. "she likes you, she really cares about me and the other maids. i don't think she would approve of me being with someone whose disrespectful."
yeah and the fact that she's got the kick of a horse you thought to yourself before hearing your name being called for the order.
the rest of the date went rather smoothly. you even fed her a piece of croissant as it crumbled down to her dress, where you helped brushed it off. not without your hands subtly grazing across her breast to which you profusely apologized as she giggles.
"so, what'd you think of the place?" you held her hand as you two walked out.
"i loved it! it's so cute and they have so many options for desserts." she gushed. "where else are you gonna take me, hm?"
"well," you cleared your throat and gestured to your parked car. "i have a champagne bottle in the back with some snacks. there's a viewspot an hour away from here, i wanted to take you and-"
she stopped you midway through your sentence with a kiss to your lips. she seemed to have really liked this idea and you couldn't have been anymore happy at her reaction. you held her, a hand on her lower back as she pulled away and smiled at you.
"lets go now before it gets too dark outside." her eyes were lidded, still holding on to your hand with a firm grip as you headed for the car.
and on your way back, you couldn't fail to notice the way she was swinging her hips from side to side as a way to tempt you. she was going to be the death of you.
situations: bruno bucciarati x fem! reader x leone abbacchio
minors do not interact!
a/n: i know that i have some requests that i need to work on, but since i haven't posted in a couple of days... bruabba x reader upon ye! enjoy!
summary: you find yourself in some intimate situations with your capo and teammate.
warnings: slight angst with a tiny bit of insecure abbacchio, smut containing p in v sex, oral (male receiving), fingering, dirty talk, mean abbacchio, voyeurism, masturbation, drunk sex (on abbacchio's part), alcohol consumption mentioned (abbacchio drinks wine)
word count: ~3.3k
“Is this what you wanted?”
Abbacchio’s words fill the heated air of Bucciarati office, but all you hear is white noise as Bucciarati’s long, deft fingers give a curl deep inside your gummy cunt. Your head tilts back to rest against his shoulder, eyelids fluttering with a moan falling from your parted lips as you wonder just how you ended up in this position.
It was simple enough. You were there to drop off a mission report to Bucciarati and against your better judgement, you pushed open the unlocked door to find… them.
You knew that Abbacchio and Bucciarati were close, but not to this extent with the shorter man slotted between Abbacchio’s legs and their hands tangling in each other’s hair. It took everything in you to not flee when Bucciarati beckoned you forward, especially with the way that Abbacchio glared at you even while his back was still pressed against Bucciarati’s desk.
Yet here you were, legs threatening to close from pleasure with Bucciarati’s thighs pushing the limbs apart even further.
“This is why you didn’t knock before you came in, isn’t it?” Abbacchio breathes out from across the room, reclining in the chair at Bucciarati’s desk as his hand slides up and down his cock that’s smeared with precum and saliva alike.
“Little slut.”
His words have you arching into Bucciarati’s touch, eyes rolling backwards when his other hand strokes along your clit.
“Now, now, Leone…”
The chest pressed against your back rumbles with a low chuckle, and you don’t miss the heated gaze that Bucciarati throws over at Abbacchio that has the white-haired man clenching his cock tighter.
“Be nice.”
Bucciarati’s lips brush against the shell of your ear as he whispers to you, the scent of his cologne flooding your senses.
“It was an accident, yes?” he murmurs to you while his hands continue to work their magic on you, thrusting and stroking and building you up every bit higher to your fast approaching release.
You frantically nod with your hips rolling to meet his thrusting fingers, head falling forward with your chin meeting your chest as you squeeze your eyes shut tightly at the pleasure coursing through your trembling body.
Bucciarati smiles against your neck, and a groan from across the room causes you to peek an eye open. Abbacchio runs a hand through his long locks and leans back in the chair while his other hand continues to stroke his cock. Purple and yellow orbs look at you, or maybe he was looking at Bucciarati. You weren’t quite sure, but the supposed attention and soft squelches of your pussy around Bucciarati’s fingers has you whining. And even the slick sounds of Abbacchio’s hand dragging against his cock had your head spinning.
“B-Bruno,” you breathe out as your hands scramble for purchase against the tops of your thighs.
“Please!”
Abbacchio scoffs, a sound that contorts into a low groan when his thumb drags across the leaking head of his cock. Your breasts heave when Bucciarati curls his fingers just right, digits brushing against that spot deep inside of you that has you seeing stars.
“You really think that you deserve to cum?”
You bite your bottom lip, not trusting yourself with speaking as you give a frantic nod in response. Bucciarati rests his chin at your shoulder, half-lidded gaze flickering from Abbacchio’s hunched form back to you. All you can do is writhe on his lap and against his fingers, back arching and sweat beading on your brow when Bucciarati leans in close.
“Of course she does,” he purrs out, digits thrusting into you and rubbing circles into your clit before he speaks low and commanding.
“Go on then. Cum.”
Your orgasm hits hard, thighs trembling around his fingers with each tremor that wracks your body before it finally goes limp against Bucciarati. Unfocused eyes catch sight of Abbacchio’s tensing form as he gives a final thrust into his fist with cum splattering against his abdomen and hand, a slight trembling evident in his own limbs when his head finally falls forward with an exasperated sigh.
Bucciarati’s hands trail along the insides of your twitching thighs, smearing your essence across the skin as he hums contently at the sight of you and Abbacchio’s ruined forms.
“Mi dispiace, I’m so forgetful sometimes. Isn’t that right, Leone?”
Abbacchio’s shoulders continue to rise and fall with each labored breath, half-lidded orbs lazily flickering over to you and Bucciarati. He chuckles from behind you again, dark hair tickling the side of your face when he leans in closer.
“Maybe next time I’ll remember to lock the door behind us.”
A few days later, you find yourself in the presence of them again.
“You’re going to be a good girl, aren’t you?”
You nod without even thinking, a certain wetness already coating your panties as you shift on your knees while gazing up at Bucciarati through your eyelashes.
“Yes,” you breathe out, but a large hand tangles itself in your hair. You give a hiss at the sharp sting in your scalp when your head is yanked backwards as a pair of purplish yellow eyes meet your own from over Bucciarati’s shoulder.
“You forget your place.”
You suck in a breath, and Bucciarati takes advantage of your exposed neck to trail a finger over the expanse of skin at your throat.
“Address your capo properly.”
Your eyes meet Bucciarati’s blue orbs when he carefully pulls his hand away.
“Yes, capo.”
Bucciarati hums in approval at that, and the hand in your hair loosens slightly despite remaining firmly planted with his palm splayed against your scalp.
“Molto bene,” he sighs with his own hand stroking along your cheek. You lean into his touch as your eyes meet his own again. That beautiful blue is now overtaken by dark, wide-blown pupils, and the skin of his hand almost burns from the heat radiating off his touch.
“You’ll help me, won’t you?”
Your eyes trail down to his slacks, heart pounding in your ears before you’re finally nodding.
“Yes, capo.”
Abbacchio watches along from over his shoulder, half-lidded eyes taking in every movement while your hands tug down the white slacks. His boxers follow suit, and your mouth goes dry when you’re face to face with Bucciarati’s hard cock that slaps against his stomach under your heated gaze.
“Don’t tell me you need help figuring out what to do,” comes Abbacchio’s sneer from behind Bucciarati. His hand tightens in your locks again and shoves you forward, a soft gasp leaving your parted lips when Bucciarati’s length drags along your cheek with warm precum smearing across the skin.
You waste no time in leaning forward after that and dragging your tongue over the underside of Bucciarati’s cock. The dark-haired man tilts his head backwards to rest against Abbacchio’s shoulder as you press a kiss to his leaking slit, and Abbacchio watches when you finally take the cock into your mouth. It slips past your lips inch by inch until the tip hits the back of your throat.
You’re breathing through your nose now, even as it brushes against Bucciarati’s faint happy trail. The man above you faintly groans, and his thighs twitch under your hands when you pull back before setting a steady pace that has his hips rolling to meet your mouth.
“She looks so good with her mouth full,” Bucciarati grunts out, head turning towards Abbacchio’s face as he breathes out a heavy sigh and fixes his half-lidded gaze on the white-haried man.
“Doesn’t she, Leone?”
Abbacchio only grunts in response as Bucciarati’s hand cups his cheek before the two of them capture each other’s lips in a searing kiss.
You press your thighs together at the sight as that familiar warmth spreads throughout your core, tongue dragging along the underside of Bucciarati’s cock before you hollow your cheeks around him.
“I think she can take more though, don’t you think?” Abbacchio lowly chuckles into the kiss before he tugs at your hair again, this time yanking your face even further into Bucciarati’s pelvis. That causes you to choke, and your hands scramble for purchase against his thighs in response. Tears swell in your eyes as you blink up at the two men, and the fat drops finally roll over your lashline. They trickle down your cheeks, smearing your mascara across the skin in long, black streaks that have Abbacchio laughing deep and low.
“Ah, maybe not.”
He rests his chin against Bucciarati’s shoulder again to watch you, sarcasm dripping from his tongue. Bucciarati shudders as you gag around him, and he sucks in a deep breath through his parted, swollen lips.
“You’re close,” Abbacchio says just above a whisper to Bucciarati, mouth leaving hot, open-mouthed kiss against the capo’s neck. Bucciarati gives a sigh of Abbacchio’s name, and his eyelids flutter open to gaze down at you before softly muttering your name when his free hand rests over Abbacchio’s that’s planted against the back of your head.
“You’re going to take it all, aren’t you?”
Bucciarati’s words settle upon your ears as they both guide your head up and down despite the ache in your jaw and throat. You feel his cock twitch in your mouth when you hollow your cheeks again, his hips flexing and stuttering before he’s releasing into your mouth with a low groan. Your eyes remain on the two men as you swallow down every drop he has to offer before pulling off with a wet ‘pop.’
Bucciarati lazily grins down at you, and his fingers stroke at your hair while Abbacchio peeks down at you too from where his face is pressed against Bucciarati’s neck.
“See Leone? I told you that she was a good girl.”
Weeks have passed after that, and you are certain that Abbacchio hates you. It was evident in the way that he barely acknowledged or touched you. And when he did, it was harsh. Borderline cruel and more so pain inducing.
A sharp slap to your ass. Fingers gripping tightly at your face. The tug to your hair.
It made you wonder how you ended up in these past situations with him and Bucciarati. You deduced that it was entirely Bucciarati’s idea. It had to be, right?
Keys jingle as you push open the door to your apartment. It’s dark with the only light being the soft glow of moonlight that peeks through the curtains covering the window.
Movement out of the corner of your eye catches your attention, and your breath hitches in your throat as you feel the power of your stand thrumming in your fingers. But then you hear it: a low, all too familiar voice that rumbles out your name.
“Leone?”
Your hand finds the lightswitch and with a flick, yellow light overtakes the kitchen. Abbacchio sits at the kitchen table, a glass of wine sitting half-full at his side. The breath that you were no longer holding returns to your lungs, and you give a nervous laugh.
“What are you doing here?”
Abbacchio doesn’t respond. All he does is raise the glass to his lips for a long sip, purple lipstick smearing along the rim further. You shift under his half-lidded gaze, purples and yellows swirling together before he pulls himself from the chair.
He closes the distance between you two in a long stride, but you can’t help and notice the sway in his steps. He’s drunk, you realize when he’s finally a few inches away from you. Your realization only sinks in further when he leans in close with the scent of wine lingering heavily on his breath.
“Why are you afraid of me?”
You blink up at him, eyes flickering across his features before you hesitantly speak.
“I’m not afraid of you, Leone,” you sight out as Abbacchio reaches towards you, fingertips grazing against your cheek while his sunset orbs drink in your expressions.
“You don’t react like this when Bruno touches you.”
Your breath catches when his large hand splays across your throat and gives a lazy squeeze to the base. Your lips part as your tongue tries to formulate a response, but the words die when Abbacchio shuffles closer - head falling forward to press his face against your neck. His hand remains at your throat as he sucks in a deep breath, your scent flooding his senses when your hands find the material of the jacket at his back to steady yourself.
“Leone-”
You’re cut off by a gasp falling from your own lips when his tongue drags hot and wet across your pulse. The only thing you can hear is the pounding of your heartbeat in your eardrums and the soft, pathetic squeak that you give when his teeth catch at the sensitive skin.
“Leone, stop.”
That causes Abbacchio to pause, and you can feel his lips tug downward into a frown against your neck.
“Why?”
“You’re drunk,” you breathe out with a hand gently smoothing across his broad back, and he slumps further into your touch as his hands settle on your hips.
“And you don’t know what you’re doing.”
He hisses against your neck, and a strand of long hair tickles the side of your face with his fingers gripping tighter at your sides.
“I know exactly what I’m doing.”
Abbacchio guides you backwards until the backs of your legs are hitting the edge of the couch, and you stumble onto the couch as your back settles against the soft surface. He clumsily climbs over you, hips slotting between your legs with your limbs slung haphazardly around his waist. His hands find your sides again, fingertips dancing along the skin under your shirt as he gazes down at you all the while. Your own hands settle against his biceps, and the material of his jacket presses smooth against your palms.
You can feel his length already sitting half hard and straining in his pants as the heat seeps through where he’s pressed against your clothed mound. He takes a deep breath, and you watch when his shoulders rise and fall like he was on the verge of breaking. Like he was trying and failing to hold himself back from something. You give a breathless sight of his name while your eyes take in his features, and one of your hands reaches up to gently cup his cheek.
Abbacchio leans into your touch, Adam’s apple bobbing with a swallow before he rolls his hips to grind himself against you. You softly gasp at the friction and can practically feel the way he hardens further in his pants. The two of you fall into a rhythm, grinding against each other with every moan and desperate touch heightened even through your clothes.
He slumps forward and rests his forehead against your shoulder as you feel the wet warmth that blossoms further against the front of his pants and boxers alike.
“Tell me you’re not scared of me,” comes a grunt against your shoulder, his mouth finding your neck again where he sloppily presses kisses into the tender flesh.
“L-Leone…”
Your neck swallows his gasp that comes when he humps a little firmer into you, and his hands grip every bit tighter at your hips.
“Please.”
He sounds wrecked with a crack in his voice, and you swear that he’s trembling as you gently run a hand through his white locks.
“I’m not scared of you, Leone.”
You hear him breathe out a sigh of relief at your words before he’s pulling away to fish his cock out of his pants and boxers, shoving the materials to bunch at his thighs before his hands are on you again. Your pants are tugged down, panties being pushed to the side as he lines himself up with your twitching hole.
It’s desperate. Needy. And he’s moving in a way that has you wondering if he’s thought of doing this before. But you’re given no more room to think when he’s slipping inside of you, and nothing could have prepared you for the sudden fullness that comes with his lengthy cock.
Abbacchio is seated fully inside of you within seconds, cockhead nestled against your cervix as you whine. He shudders despite how warm his skin is, and his hips are pressed flush against your ass. Your arms wrap around his neck while he pants into your throat before he’s finally moving. It’s sloppy and uncoordinated, no doubt from the alcohol coursing through his veins as he just barely pulls out before he’s shoving himself back inside of your twitching cunt.
“I thought I might find you here.”
A voice breaks through the symphony of sex, and your eyes flicker towards where Bucciarati stands across the living room as the swirling dimension behind him is zipped up by the power of his stand. Those deep blue eyes take in the sight of the two of you, lingering on how Abbacchio looks with his hair mussed and lipstick smeared across his mouth before he turns his gaze to you. You know you don’t look much better though.
“Bruno,” the man above you raises his head and grunts out as his fingers tighten against your hips like you might run, but you don’t. Instead, you press your face into the crook of Abbacchio’s neck with the scent of wine and cologne melding together in a flurry that has your head spinning when his hips stutter to a halt against yours.
“Don’t let me interrupt.”
Buccarati chuckles with a nonchalant wave of his hand before he sits in a chair across from the couch, one leg crossing over the other with his chin resting on a palm. It’s evident that he’s more than happy to simply watch, especially when a low purr falls from his lips.
“Continue.”
Your walls flutter at his words, causing Abbacchio to hiss through clenched teeth. But he doesn’t waste anymore time as he snaps his hips forward to resume his near frantic pace. Your legs wrap tighter around his waist to pull him impossibly closer with each thrust, mewls and moans falling from your lips when your head falls back to rest against the arm of the couch.
A cool hand brushes against your stomach, and your eyelids flutter open to see Bucciarati standing over you now. Blue orbs dance with adoration and hunger while they trail downward along with the descent of his hand. Abbacchio watches Bucciarati’s movements while he continues to fuck you, especially when his hand slides down to your mound before spreading your pussy lips with two fingers.
“Sei uno spettacolo,” Bucciarati breathes out, causing Abbacchio’s gaze to also fall to where you and him are connected. All he can do is groan at the sight of his cock sliding in and out of you with the entirety of his length wet from your essence.
The dark-haired man gives a low hum before his fingers find your clit, and that has your back arching off the couch when he begins to rub tight, little circles into the sensitive nub.
Abbacchio’s hips stutter when you clench around him so tightly that it almost hurts, a bead of sweat trickling down his temple with a curse falling from his lips.
“Just like that.”
Bucciarati praises the two of you and leans forward with his free hand wrapping around the back of Abbacchio’s neck to press his lips against the white-haired man’s mouth in a passionate kiss above you. You watch on with half-lidded eyes and stifle your moan with a bite to your lip as the pressure in your abdomen builds until it’s blinding and stars are dancing behind your eyelids.
It’s with final thrust from Abbacchio and a flick of Bucciarati’s fingers that has you coming undone beneath them, your chest heaving and entire body shaking when your orgasm finally hits in powerful waves to bring you under.
Bucciarati swallows Abbacchio’s groans as he slams into you before his own release washes over him and he paints your insides white. The two part from the kiss as Abbacchio’s shoulders rise and fall with each labored breath as Bucciarati brushes a stray strand of hair from the man’s flushed face. He then leans down to press his lips against your sweat soaked forehead before he’s speaking again, soft and teasing.
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