#johnny x Diego

[concretepie]

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[tanyadreww]

i painted it

[cinnbar-bun]

Pony (Various SBR x Reader)

Characters: Diego Brando, Johnny Joestar, Mountain Tim, Gyro Zeppeli (separate)

Prompt: "My saddle's waitin' / Come and jump on it."

Summary: How ya'll get down and dirty together with your fave cowboys.

Rating: NSFW THERE IS NOTHING BUT SMUT HERE

Notes: Reader is GN!, no body parts mentioned for reader, implied to be during the SBR, no spoilers for Part 7, just pure smut hcs.

Word Count: ~2.3k

You can read on my AO3 here!

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

Diego Brando 

The type to suggest a casual arrangement before he gets seriously involved with you. He says it’s just to relieve some stress during the race but before you know it, he wants you closer. 

Tries to present himself as a dominating and forceful top, and that’s probably how many of your sessions will go at first. He refuses to give up power easily and especially not in a presumed ‘casual’ mutually beneficial arrangement. 

In reality he can be quite the switch, something that will be explored the more you two get intimate. He relishes power struggles, and will goad you into trying to dominate him further or putting you deeper in your place. 

A talker, Diego will almost never shut up. Whether it’s praising how your body squeezes him, degrading you smugly, coaxing you to ‘tame’ him, or begging for some pleasure- his mouth will be running. 

He makes such beautiful noises <3 

Prefers to have sex in more secluded areas, preferably your tents late at night. But if pushed to it, he will not be opposed to just taking you in an alley or in the woods out in the open. 

“Since you acted so wanton earlier, it shouldn’t be an issue for you, should it? Now stop whining.” 

He loves when suck him off while he’s sitting or standing. It makes him feel like a king. He’ll give you plenty of praise or condescending compliments while you do so. 

His fingers are amazing. Calloused from holding the reins for so many years, but experienced at the best ways to give you pleasure. 

Diego tends to admit his true feelings or get more possessive during sex. A lot of “mine” or “for me” and “I love you’s” are thrown out while he’s going at it (or you’re going at him). 

Occasionally cannot hold back how feral he feels because of Scary Monsters. He will be rutting and grinding into you and telling you he needs you now. 

Probably one of the few occasions he will not be talking beyond mindless grunts, groans, and growls. 

Does like roleplay, not really anything elaborate (especially not during the race when time is limited), but he does like indulging in specific ‘roles’ for you both. He tends to like being called ‘master’ or ‘sir’ or even ‘my lord’. Don’t worry, he’s happy to do the same for you if you want it (sigh can you imagine him calling you master/mistress I’m-). 

Has no preference for where he finishes, because he truthfully wants to cover himself all over you, whether you swallow, giving you a facial, or inside- he’s raring to go again to finish on a different spot and exert his place with you. 

If under the influence of Scary Monsters, though, he will tend to want to finish inside you. 

His aftercare is pretty crappy at first, especially when it’s meant to be ‘casual’, because he thinks he’s such hot shit that you should be grateful you even got to sleep with him. But as he gets closer to you, he will either grumble and tell you you’re so dirty while cleaning you, or just silently help you then hold you close. 

He can be very clingy after sex, making him hold you close and bury his face into your shoulder/chest so he can inhale your scent and regain himself.

Johnny Joestar 

Type to get caught trying to ‘relieve’ himself and weakly ask for your help. And really, how could you resist that flustered face?

Johnny isn’t inexperienced, absolutely not, but he hasn’t slept with another since his time as a pompous jockey who had people throwing themselves onto him left and right. The guilt and his injury left him rather rusty and self-conscious about his performance. 

You’re gonna have to do a lot of the heavy lifting with him, but Johnny proves himself to be an eager lover. 

Lots of foreplay between the two of you, with Johnny having a preference for face-sitting. He also will incorporate some of the Spin with you to act as a ‘vibrator’ of sorts to pleasure you more. 

Self-conscious at first but slowly grows more comfortable and confident as you two continue together, making him relax. While at first he tries to stay silent or apologizes/mumbles under his breath a lot, he’ll slowly begin to crack some jokes and be more vocal. 

This is when you’ll see Johnny shine more. He’ll offer more creative suggestions and kinks for the both of you to try out. He’s wonderful at adapting on the fly if he finds you enjoying/disliking something. 

Besides his stated fetish for bug bites (which will seriously get him going if he sees you with some), he just really loves your ass. He straight up cannot get enough of it, and will be grabbing and holding it whenever he can. 

Continuing with that logic, he loves reverse cowgirl because he loves seeing your ass bounce against him. 

Johnny’s dirty talk tends to consist of him throwing expletives and saying what he feels. He’s not too good with roleplay because after a while the pleasure crashes his brain and he just starts talking mindlessly. 

“Ah, shit, you feel so good… fuck, keep going.” 

He can be a teasing bastard when he really feels like it. Often, he’ll employ the Spin on you, then pull it away just before you finish. He can get pretty cheeky, but that’s just how you know how comfortable he is with you. 

His neck and collarbone are some of his more sensitive spots, and if you focus your attention there, he loses his mind. Leave him some hickeys and tug on his hair, and he’s positively gone. He will complain about the marks later, but secretly admire them and be happy he’s got them from you. 

He likes finishing on your ass. Second favorite thing would be to have you swallow, but he finds it pretty attractive if some of it spills out of your lips. 

His aftercare is good and he’ll do his best to care and comfort you. But majority of the time he’s just spent and exhausted and wants to snuggle with you. He gets rather soft and whispers a lot while you two bask in the afterglow. 

Mountain Tim 

The type of man to want to be romantically involved with you and take it slow, before he can’t contain himself and has to have you. 

Tim is a gentleman, he really is. For a bounty hunter, the man takes great care to try and woo you and behave properly around you. Because, truthfully, this man is a romantic deep down. 

He’ll never try and let his desires get the best of him for fear of taking advantage of you, so you’ll have to initiate. And the minute you initiate, he’s all for it and will jump at the opportunity. 

A giving lover- so giving that the both of you, on occasion, were spent with only the foreplay. 

He’s passionate. His actions can be overwhelming in the bedroom, but you can practically feel the love dripping out of him. He goes nuts for you. 

Obviously, bondage is most likely occurring. His stand gives him a multitude of ways to tie you up and tease you with his body. He will take advantage of his powers to bring you the utmost pleasure. 

However, his favorite kinks include cockwarming and overstimulation. He would love to be inside you forever if he could, and he often likes to tease you by having you sit on him for a while before he moves. 

As for overstimulation… he’s gonna make you cum over and over. He always praises you for finishing and will try to urge another orgasm out of you. He loves seeing your face and hearing your breathless moans and whimpers. 

“That’s it darling… that’s it. You’re doing so good for me… you can give me another one, can’t you? I know you can, darlin’. Just let me take care of you.”

Heavy on the praise. He’s never mean or degrading, because he loves you too damn much to do that. At worst he’d do some condescending praise, but majority of the time it is pure praise for how amazing you are and how good you feel. 

While he can lean into some sub/dom dynamics with you, often sex is just an outlet for the both of you to express your affection and love. 

He is often a service top for you, but leans more towards dom. That doesn’t mean he won’t sub for you, he absolutely will if you desire it. He’d love nothing more than to see you riding him. 

He prefers positions where he can see your face. Tim will coo for you to look into his eyes and shake his head when you try and cover your face or look away. He just loves seeing your facial expressions. 

Reverse cowgirl is a good treat once in a while for him, too. He loves being able to smack your ass and praise how you’re riding him. 

Likes to finish inside. He believes it’s more proof that the two of you are bound together. 

His aftercare is amazing. Probably the best guy around at it. Course, he’ll be a bit of a flirt and tease, but he always care for you just as any good cowboy should. 

Gyro Zeppeli 

Also the type to suggest a casual sexual relationship with you before he falls for you. 

If you were to look up “wild” in the dictionary, you’d find Gyro’s picture right next to it because this man is an absolute loose cannon in the bedroom. Or tent. Or woods. Or alley. Or body of water. Or wherever the hell you two decide to have sex. 

Gyro isn’t ashamed of his desires and will seek you out pretty often. 

He’s experimental in bed. He is experienced from his many sexual escapades back then, but since the race, he’s been steady with you and likes trying whatever new wacky whim crosses through his mind. 

His surgical and anatomical knowledge combined with his teasing nature makes him a menace. He knows almost every nerve and muscle on your body and how to manipulate it for your pleasure. Not to mention, his control over the Spin will have him working your body in overtime. 

Gyro likes to tease you during inopportune times by using the Spin on you to act as a vibrator and get you excited, but he’ll act like nothing is going on around the others and make you wait. He’ll eventually have the two of you secluded and “take care” of the problem he caused, all while having that shit-eating grin on his face as he tells you you’re getting too desperate. 

This man is getting goofy and silly with you during sex. Expect some bad puns or jokes while he’s ramming your insides. 

An unfair and rough lover who gets pleasure from hearing your voice. He will never want you to be quiet, and he makes it his mission to have you screaming by the end of it. He might chide you and call you out for being too loud, but honestly he doesn’t care if everyone else is hearing it. He just loves how your voice sounds. 

Roleplay is common between the two of you. Sometimes it’s ‘prisoner x jailer/executioner’, ‘surgeon x patient’, or ‘royal x dutiful, loyal executioner who is totally gonna be rewarded for being an awesome partner today in the race, right?’ 

Gyro surprisingly can stay in character and he will play his roles very well for you. He gets pretty into them when he wants to. 

Likes doggy style a lot. Whether for you or him, he just wants someone being on all fours and their ass being grabbed. 

Switch, leaning more towards top/dom. But he finds it hot if you take charge of him and put him in his place (and he’ll serve you like no other, baby). Will call you whatever you want him to call you, no questions asked. 

Occasionally drops some Italian in the middle of banging you. This was especially prevalent when he started falling for you and would loudly proclaim “ti amo” over and over without addressing it in English. 

Despite his playful attitude both in the bedroom and out, he can get pretty serious and emotional with you. Sometimes the rough horseplay just doesn’t cut it, and he’ll lay back and thrust slowly into you while gripping your hips to help you ride him. He’ll talk less in these moments and just enjoy hearing both of your gasps and quiet moans. 

Doesn’t have a specific preference on where to finish. He just does it wherever he feels. He commonly does it on your back or stomach, depending on the position. 

His aftercare is wonderful. Yeah, he can be a joker sometimes but the afterglow with you is nice and can get pretty romantic. He’ll glide his hands over you gently and trace over the marks he may have left on you or just to feel your skin underneath his fingers. He’ll clean you up and have you both rest. He did reveal he could relieve some of the soreness from your body with the Spin, so occasionally he’ll do it (admittedly, he does like seeing you limp or wobble after a tryst with him). 

It’s where Gyro will be at his most tender with you, where he will cradle you and look at you with eyes full of love and desire for you. He speaks quietly in these moments and likes to ramble about nothing with you. And when he pulls a small laugh out of you, he thinks he could just die on the spot and be content.

[starzabi]

— hand headcanons !

just how their hands look and how good they are at using them … johnny, gyro && diego

nsfw warning … minors & ageless blogs dni

— johnny

his fingers and palms are of the same size but expect his hand to be rather rough due to the many years he’s spent on horseback and because of his stand. They’re probably covered with various fresh and healed scars as well.

but, since he’s spent many of his years with women, being promiscuous so he obviously knows how to use them.

he’s shy at first due to the lack of practice, he thinks he’s rusty but once he puts in a finger, followed by another and hears you moan out his name, he realises that he hasn’t lost his touch which makes him rather cocky—he tries to get you off on just his fingers and to his surprise, you actually do.

‘i still got it…’

— gyro

his fingers are very, very long and slender compared to his palm and my god, does he know how to take care of his hands. they’re incredibly soft, they feel so uncharacteristic—you couldn’t even believe that such pretty hands could belong to someone like gyro zeppeli.

and of course, given his past, he knows how to properly use them but unlike johnny, he isn’t the kind to make you cum from just that. instead, he teases you endlessly with his fingers and teases you even more when you begin to whine and beg for release.

oh and given his medical background, he’s so adept at using his fingers and pleasuring you perfectly since he’s so well versed in the human body <3 he’s such a perfect partner if it wasn’t for his dirty mouth and his constant teasing.

eventually, he does comply after listening to you beg for a release; but instead of using just his fingers, he ends up making you cum on his cock.

— diego

another pretty hand haver !! but unlike gyro, he has very roughed up hands as well and they seemed to have gotten much more hard since he gained his stand ability. though they retain some of their initial softness, you can’t deny that they haven’t gained a new texture that’s sort of similar to scales.

diego doesn’t prefer to use his hands, he’d rather have you coming on his dick but on days when you’re extra bratty, he might just use them but only to remind you of who’s in charge.

he’s absolutely filthy with his words when he’s using fingers—he’s filthy all the time but it somehow gets worse when he sees you be a moaning mess from just his three or four fingers.

it’s an ego booster too to him, to see you whining like this—he can’t help but smirk but he never makes you cum though when he uses his hands…

[bloody-starr]

more jojo twitter

[snzhrchy]

close your eyes and i’ll kiss you

— first kiss with diego && johnny

my johnny brain rot is getting out of hand i cannot stop thinking about this beautiful blonde man and how i want to smother him with kisses and i guess, diego ‘s there too ://

— johnny

‘i’m going to do it,’ he announces with conviction in his voice, ‘i’m going to join the race.’

‘no you’re not, it’s dangerous—really dangerous, do you possibly think—?’

‘yes i can,’ he cuts you off.

‘johnny—‘

‘i know the dangers, [name], do you really think i would��ve blasted my savings on it if i knew i couldn’t make it?’

‘i… i don’t— i’m just worried for you, that’s it. what if you—‘

‘i didn’t ask you to worry for me,’ he says suddenly and then pauses, ‘why do you care again?’

‘what do you mean?’ you ask.

‘well— i’m no longer jo-kid or y’know the famous jockey, why do you stick around?’ he turns his gaze away from you, ‘i don’t have any fame, money or even the ability to walk.’

‘hey— hey don’t say that; you’re—‘

but he cuts you off again, ‘i didn’t ask you to cheer me up, i’m asking you why do you still stay? why don’t you leave like everyone else?’

however, you are at a loss for words—you don’t know how you could possibly convey your feelings towards him without making it incredibly awkward. in a haze, you suddenly find yourself near him, faces merely inches apart. you don’t even hesitate to put one of your hands on his cheek and pull him into you; your lips making instant contact with his.

you can tell by the way he reacts that he was expecting anything but this but eventually you can feel him ease into your touch and kiss you back with his fingers entangling in your locks.

‘that isn’t an appropriate answer to my question, though,’ he mumbles.

— diego

‘i don’t get it, i really don’t,’ mutters Diego to himself but he’s still loud enough for you to hear him.

‘whatever do you mean?’ you inquire in a daze as your hands lazily brush your horse’s hair.

‘of all the jockeys and trainers in the world, why do your parents insist on me teaching you?’

‘well that’s because you’re diego brando! the best of the best!’ you say.

‘you flatter me, [name],’ he pauses, ‘but do you really think i’m that stupid?’

your actions suddenly come to a halt, your left hand abandons the strand of hair it’s holding but the comb remains in your right, ‘huh?’

‘oh c’mon, i can tell that you’ve got some sort of affection for me,’ he walks over to you, abandoning all his actions, ‘it’s wrong to lust over a widowed man, y’know?’

you can practically feel your cheeks heat up with each word he says—how could you possibly forget that you were dealing with diego brando here?

‘that’s not why I— I didn’t hit on—‘ you try to protest.

but before you could deny any of his claims, one of his hands snakes to the back of your head, pulling you in close. it happens in an instant as he presses his lips against yours, they meet in a quick and hastened way. the feeling of his lips touching yours is incredibly fast and the touch leaves almost instantly—he doesn’t even allow you to savour the kiss.

while your lips still yearn for his, his hand hasn’t left the back of your head at all—in fact, you can feel his fingers entangling themselves deeper into your locks, the action sort of pulls you closer to him to the point where you can feel his heavy breath in your ear. if it’s even possible, it makes you blush harder.

‘how about we continue this elsewhere, hm?’

[thus-wrote-mrs-zeppeli]

“Something cute” won the poll for what I should do for my 100 followers special, so I tried to come up with something pretty dang cute~

Various jjba characters x reader in: Artsy Date

Drawing each other sounded like a great date idea at the time.

Content: nothing really beyond a bit suggestive

Characters: Joseph Joestar (Part 2), Caesar Anthonio Zeppeli, DIO, Rohan Kishibe, Jotaro Kujo (part 4), Yoshikage Kira, Guido Mista, Bruno Bucciarati, Leone Abbacchio, Diavolo, Jolyne Cujoh, Johnny Joestar, Gyro Zeppeli, Diego Brando

Joseph Joestar: Oh he was QUITE confident in his ability to capture your essence on paper. And no matter how you insisted this was only for fun, not a competition, he was determined to be better at this than you. And he even tries to sabotage you, just a bit, by doing a hard pose to draw when it’s your turn to sketch him.

He IS fun to model for though, flirting with you while he directed you on how to pose for him. For a moment you almost feel like an actual professional model with the way he plays it up. He even makes a camera click noise with his mouth when he’s finally happy with your pose.

He works pretty quickly, talking out loud to himself as he goes, occasionally holding up his handiwork so he can compare it to you.

“Tell me how much you love it.”

He says it SO confidently given how…unimpressive his art skills are…

I mean…you can definitely tell it’s you. Because the character he drew has your outfit. But it’s a bit exaggerated proportion wise and he REALLY cannot draw faces to save his life wow-

“Is that my…nose?”

He’s a bit offended. “NO, that’s your mouth. This is your nose.”

You squint when he points to a spot on the drawing but you don’t really know what he’s pointing to.

But you’ll treasure it forever, you had so much fun being his model and doodling each other. And he quite enjoyed modeling for you, too, very happy to have a sketch of himself drawn by you. You drew him winking with a smug smirk on his face while in that stupidly complicated pose he decided to do despite your protests.

It’s unmistakably Joseph Joestar.

Caesar Anthonio Zeppeli: He loves this idea, but takes it SUPER seriously. He has you very carefully posed, and really takes his time illustrating you to the best of his ability. He even uses watercolors to add to your “inherent elegance” as he calls it.

When you finally get to see it…

It’s a bit amateurish, but still quite impressive, though he totally exaggerated your grace and poise. Your clothes flow in the wind as you pose delicately by a fountain…he definitely took some artistic liberties because there wasn’t any wind when you posed for him, and your outfit wasn’t THAT pristine, but it’s a lovely portrait, and you can’t help but smile learning Caesar really sees you as such a graceful and lovely person.

You feel yours isn’t nearly as grand in comparison, as you drew him much more casually, resting with his chin on his hand, looking quiet and contemplative. He adores every gift you give him, but something this personal is especially wonderful to him.

But you’re a bit embarrassed to see he went through the trouble of framing your drawing of him…sheesh Caesar…he’s so extra sometimes…

DIO: He could maybe make some free time for you in his evenings to indulge in the fine arts. You’re not sure if you’re surprised or unsurprised he actually takes a bit of interest in such things. You want to draw him? He’s happy to indulge you.

You’re off to a strong start because you have to hastily tell him he doesn’t have to take off all his clothes, you’re not making THAT kind of drawing-this was supposed to be cute!! Just pose nicely!

He can’t help himself and goes with something pretty provocative, but whatever. At least your drawing is gonna reflect his personality well.

He’s not opposed to drawing you in turn but he’s bossy just for the sake of it. He wants you to pose a certain way and if you move at all he swore he was going to stop immediately. And he was a man of empty promises, but not empty threats, so you held as still as you could manage, a bit embarrassed at the pose he demanded of you. He chides you a bit for acting surprised that his sketch of you actually looks really good.

You, posed with your arm on your own shoulder, and your head tilted so your neck is very exposed and you are surrounded by darkness. It’s a beautiful sketch, done quickly, and he has signed his name in big letters right on the drawing of you. Such a Dio thing to do. You understand even clearer how he feels about you.

He thinks you should consider it a generous gift that he deigned to waste his time illustrating you, so you’d better treasure that half-hearted sketch he’s made for you.

He has no interest in taking great care of your sketch of him though. It will be tucked away in a book somewhere and promptly forgotten about, but if you were to suggest another drawing session while he was in a pleasant mood he might not refuse.

Rohan Kishibe: Only AFTER suggesting it did you realize perhaps it was not such a good idea.

Rohan was a Very Fast artist. As soon as you suggested it he had an amazing illustration of you done in five seconds flat. You tried to explain it completely defeated the point to go so fast, and that you were supposed to pose for him at least while he drew you!

Well…he doesn’t really see the point in that. But it’s not like he’s swamped with work so…he will try to indulge you if it would make you happy.

You ask him what pose you should do and he says you can do whatever you want because he could replicate it accurately.

Once again defeating the point but whatever.

You try to do a cute pose in the hopes you can convey your romantic intent with this activity. All he does is quirk an eyebrow at you and mutter that your pose looks a bit uncomfortable to hold, but that he’ll be quick so it’ll be fine.

You sigh. He was so unromantic. You were posing SO cutely and he STILL wasn’t getting it.

His illustration of you is professional, even inked and colored with markers, and it only took him a few seconds. You’re posed draped across the couch, with your arms spread and your legs bent to give the appearance of stretching charmingly.

He narrows his eyes in confusion when you proclaim it is his turn now. Apparently he wasn’t listening very closely to how this was supposed to work.

He doesn’t want to pose so you can draw him! That’s boring. He could be doing something else. This really isn’t supposed to be an argument, so you suggest he reads a book or something so he’s not entirely “wasting his time” while you draw him.

He’s grumpy about it, but relents. As long as you promise to be quick.

He just quietly reads in his chair while you doodle him. It’s awkward and not nearly as romantic as you were hoping for, but you’re pretty happy with how your sketch of him turned out.

He doesn’t have much to say on your drawing, quick to excuse himself so he can finally go back to doing whatever he was doing before you interrupted him with this date idea of yours.

But he loves it very much, and keeps it safe in his studio, but he’ll be a bit of a brat about it if you ask because he’s embarrassed to admit it makes him feel good.

Jotaro Kujo: He’s decent at drawing, but only animals, not so much people. But if you’re both not busy one evening then fine, might as well.

He tells you to keep your expectations low, but you’re just glad to finally be spending some quality time with him. He’s not the easiest man to schedule time with, always busy with something.

His drawing of you is simplistic but recognizable, since he knew he’d struggle with detail and it’d just end up bad if he tried.

You love it! It’s rare for him to do anything like this for you, so the drawing is very dear for you, regardless of how he insists it’s not anything to be so excited about. He doesn’t really say anything, but he’s glad it makes you happy, even though he doesn’t feel like he did much.

You accidentally draw his hat too big when it’s your turn to draw him, but otherwise you think it looks pretty cool. You tried to capture the coolness of his white jacket blowing in the wind. You can’t really tell if he likes it, but he ends up folding your sketch nicely and keeping it safe somewhere, so you like to think he enjoyed this little bonding activity.

Yoshikage Kira: UGH, you’re not sure what you were expecting. The drawing he makes of you is…interesting. You’re recognizable, slightly above stick figure status…but he put a Very noticeable emphasis on your hands, putting much more effort into them than anything else in the drawing. The more you look at it the more you realize it’s just a really low-quality imitation of the Mona Lisa. Now you understand the purpose of the pose he suggested. But he seemed to moderately enjoy himself, so…Success, you suppose.

He’ll cooperate and pose for you as long as it doesn’t take too long.

You go for something casual, his pointer finger against his cheek, his other fingers against his chin. Relaxed, but stylish.

He thanks you for the drawing and tucks it away somewhere. It’s safe, but out of mind.

He doesn’t really care if you keep ahold of his drawing of you though. You’re free to do whatever you want with it, he’s not an artist so he understands if you don’t want to keep it, it didn’t take that much effort to draw anyways.

You keep it for a bit but eventually lose track of it. It’s pretty funny when you accidentally stumble across it after it disappeared for a long time. Oh yeah. That weird drawing Yoshikage did of you where he only tried when he was sketching your hands. You had forgotten about that. For good reason.

Guido Mista: He’s definitely not an artist but if you don’t care about how it turns out and just wanna spend time with him through this activity then he’s totally down.

The bullets end up wanting to draw you too so…you end up with a lot of poorly drawn portraits of yourself. Honestly you couldn’t pick out Mista’s drawing from the bullets’. How do they all draw the same way…

All the drawings of you are pretty much just stick figures with very large heads. He said he wanted to capture your facial features accurately so he had to make your head bigger. More room for the eyes. Yeah he’s definitely not taking this too seriously but you expected as much from him. So to counter him, you draw him poorly as well, and then all of the bullets large and in as much detail as you can manage.

He pretends to be offended by it. “Why’d you draw my eyes so big?!” he asks. Because beyond his sense of fashion his deep dark eyes are his most notable feature! Duh.

He ends up losing the drawing on accident within a week but! The important part was how fun it was! The finished products weren’t that important-

Please don’t be mad at him-

Bruno Bucciarati: He thinks it’s a lovely way to spend some time together, so he does what he can to clear his afternoon so he can spend it with you. He starts by saying he’s not an artist so don’t expect too much from him, but his brow furrows in concentration once you’ve assumed a pose you thought he’d like. You go for something cute but

stylish, sitting with one leg up and your other outstretched along the couch elegantly.

His drawing of you is cute. Soft lines and very simple, mostly just capturing your pose than any other details, with dots for eyes because he claims he cannot draw eyes for the life of him. It’s sweet, surprisingly adorable for the serious capo. He tells you not to show his gang though, or he’ll never hear the end of it.

You embarrass yourself a bit when it’s your turn, because you spent a very long time concentrated on his chest trying to get his tattoo accurate. And he’s not helping with his flirty little remark where he suggests you could probably see a little better if you sat closer to him. And then pat his own lap.

It totally breaks your concentration, so you decide your drawing of him is now finished, handing it over to him before he can fluster you any further.

He thinks it’s lovely, and he promises to take care of it, and make even more of an effort to carve out some free time to spend with you, even if it’s just half an hour or so.

He’s already planning a date he can surprise you with next time.

Leone Abbacchio: He’s not one for sweet romantic gestures, so he pushes back a bit, but if you nag him he’ll give in pretty quickly. It’s not like you’re asking him to do something he really hates doing, and he has a particular weakness for you…so fine. But just this once.

He’ll hold still so you can sketch him, but only for ten minutes, and he gets to choose the pose.

At least the pose he chooses looks nice. Despite his jaded personality, he’s a pretty and elegant looking man. You draw a side profile of him, his expression that usual impassive frown, but his features have a sort of rugged grace.

When you slide your masterpiece over to him, he exhales through his nose so he can maintain that grouchy persona, but he’s gentle when he actually takes the drawing from you.

When it’s his turn to draw you, he works quickly and silently, not even looking at you, which leads you to think he’s still unhappy about being asked to do this.

He won’t admit it but he didn’t look at you because he didn’t have to. He’s replayed memories of you through Moody Blues enough times to have your face memorized.

You weren’t expecting much when he casually slid the piece of paper over to you.

But when you look, you can’t help the way your jaw drops. A side profile of you that mirrors the one you drew of him. Drawn amazingly well. It’s accurate, elegant, surprisingly soft…he’s even sketched a few flowers alongside you to make the piece more aesthetically pleasing.

The way you stare makes him embarrassed, and he ends up biting out that if you didn’t like it you should just throw it away.

You respond by clutching it protectively against your chest. It just makes him more embarrassed to know you’re going to be clinging to that thing for a while. There’s really no winning with him-

WHATEVER.

You can do whatever you want with it, but do NOT show that off to Mista, Narancia and ESPECIALLY NOT Giorno (not that Giorno would tease him, but the mortifying idea of that blond knowing ANYTHING about him makes Leone feel ill).

Once enough time has passed, you can start convincing him to make a few quick sketches for you, since they make you happy for whatever reason, and unfortunately for him he loves making you happy even if that means dropping the apathetic gangster disposition for a moment.

Ghiaccio: You thought that you had finally found something that was relaxing for both of you and wouldn’t completely frustrate him and result in him losing his temper. Again.

Turns out you were incorrect. Again.

Firstly he’s not a fan of sitting still. He’ll sit in one spot for you, but he’s tapping his foot the whole time and fiddling with his phone. So you try to go as fast as you can before he gets too impatient with just sitting there waiting for his turn to draw you.

It turns out a little bit rushed, but you feel like you captured his look pretty well, even adding some red to his glasses and shoes for a splash of color.

But when it’s his turn to draw you…he starts getting frustrated fast. He keeps erasing and starting over, the poor paper getting smudged and wrinkled into oblivion, and eventually he gets mad enough to stop when he accidentally rips through the paper with his pencil.

He shouts a slew of Italian curse words before saying he’s done with this stupid date, slamming the sketchbook onto the table in front of you and storming off in a huff of embarrassment at how poorly the drawing turned out.

Well that went great.

His drawing is honestly pretty cute, the condition of the paper and the eraser smudges and rips tell quite a story…

Because of how crumpled the paper turned out it kinda looks like the hastily drawn version of you got hit by a frying pan or electrocuted by a lightning bolt, but you still like it. It was nice of him to at least entertain your idea, even though it ended up frustrating him.

Diavolo: Draw him? NO.

Not a CHANCE in HELL.

Remove that idea from your mind immediately and never bring it up again. He will not allow even one vague sketch of him to be made, and if you do it anyways he will not forgive you.

Really you should’ve expected that reaction. What were you thinking with that one…?

But if you irritate him enough about it, he’ll Eventually get fed up and tell you to sit down and hold still. If all he has to do to get you to stop whining was sketch you, then FINE. He’ll sketch you.

Stop squirming in your seat and squealing with excitement…you’re giving him a headache.

You try to hold still for him.

He radiates irritation at having to do this, his gaze intense and the strokes of his pencil harsh and deliberate.

“There.”

He tosses the sketchbook over to you and promptly gets up and leaves before he has to hear your feedback.

It’s pretty good actually. A little rough since he drew it while in a particularly foul mood, but if he actually tried he could really make something nice.

If you tell him you love what he drew for you he’ll dismiss your compliment immediately. He doesn’t care about his art skills, he has much bigger things to concern himself with than sitting around sketching his partner whenever they begged him for that kind of attention.

Jolyne Cujoh: At first she thinks it’s a super cute and romantic date idea, so she’s eager to try it with you.

She does a cool pose for you, elegant but powerful, and she tries to hold it for you but it ended up not being the easiest pose to hold so you have to work fast. She ends up having to stretch after that painful pose, and even though you feel a bit bad listening to her complain about how she pulled a muscle doing that, it’s hard not to enjoy how she rolls her shoulders to loosen them.

She says it was totally worth it because she loves your sketch of her. You better believe she’s going to take good care of it, even if you say it’s not good because you had to rush it. Too late. She’s not giving it back. You’ll have to fight her for it, and you know from experience you’re not winning if you try playfully roughhousing with her.

When it’s her turn to draw you, she pretends to be highly concentrated and serious, but she ends up feeling a bit embarrassed when she actually finishes her sketch of you.

It’s not bad at all, very cute, and she gave you sparkly anime eyes since they’re the only type of eye she knows how to draw. The proportions aren’t perfect, your head looks kinda big compared to your body, and it’s pretty simple, but in a way where you could claim it was a stylistic choice and not on accident.

If you really insist you love it she’ll be slightly less embarrassed, but don’t go showing that around to everyone! It’s for your eyes only!

She signs it for you with a playful green lipstick stain.

But seriously. Don’t show it around.

Johnny Joestar: Usually you’re both too tired by the time you’re setting up camp when it starts getting dark during the SBR to think about doing anything cute with each other.

But one evening you have an extra burst of energy, and there’s juuust enough light by the fire to do a sketch of Johnny.

Well, if you want to. He’s not ready to fall asleep yet so you might as well.

You really wanna capture his intense eyes. So you don’t make him do anything in particular except look at you on occasion so you can make sure you’re getting his face right.

It turns out okay. At least you got the eyes right. He doesn’t really know how to react beyond just thanking you and tucking the drawing away. The two of you can only hope nothing happens to it, but it can’t be helped with all the action during this race if your drawing ended up destroyed.

When it’s his turn to draw you, he’s quiet and concentrated, occasionally glancing up at you for accuracy’s sake but otherwise he seems to know what he’s doing, to your surprise.

“I think it turned out alright,” he comments, handing it over to you after signing it with a little star with two J’s in it.

It’s a bit of an understatement, even in the darkness with only the light of the fire to see, he captured an amazing amount of detail. You, sitting contemplatively by the fire, shadows dancing across your face with the flickering of the flames…and he got the scenery really accurate.

“Do you like drawing landscapes, Johnny?”

His sketch of your surroundings was done remarkably skillfully.

He shrugs, but then thinks about it for a moment before saying yeah, landscapes were more enjoyable to draw for him. You have to slow down a bit to capture the details of your surroundings accurately in a drawing so…perhaps he likes the change of pace every once in a while.

Gyro Zeppeli: He acts sooo confident despite knowing full well that he cannot draw people. And he’s a bit of a menace to you, since you said this was only for fun and nothing to take too seriously, then surely you don’t mind him constantly moving around and striking different poses and making weird jokes. If he was going to be ridiculous then FINE, you would draw him ridiculous.

You confidently declare your drawing is quite flattering and then spin your paper around to show him a half-hearted attempt at a sketch of him lying on his side with a rose between his teeth, surrounded by hearts. You’ve purposefully given him a tiny head so it looks silly.

He takes it as a personal challenge, declaring it was his turn so you’d better be ready. While he’s drawing you, you pretend to fall asleep like he was boring you.

You were expecting his drawing to be unprofessional but at least recognizable. When he confidently hands you back what he’s drawn you genuinely aren’t sure what you’re looking at.

“This is me?”

“YES, see this is your hair, and these are your arms…” he explains the drawing to you but can’t help the occasional laugh that escapes. So he WAS messing with you with this incomprehensible scribble he presented you with.

“You really captured my essence,” you say, holding the picture up next to your face to compare them.

“Like you have a twin,” he declares, accompanied by his signature laugh.

He’s such a TEASE sometimes-

Diego Brando: He’s really struggling to grasp the idea that this is just for fun and isn’t supposed to be super serious, because as soon as he’s done posing for you he’s hovering over your shoulder while you draw and backseat sketching for you. He’s like ‘oh my hair should be a little longer, you got my nose shape wrong, that’s not how my eyes look, etc.’

Ok Diego why don’t you draw yourself if you know so much about art, sheesh-

Even if you say that as a joke he might actually end up plucking the sketchbook and pencil from you and finishing it himself so it’s to his likeness. You find it a bit irritating that he’s actually pretty good at art and his additions to your drawing of him really make the piece come together. So annoying. How dare he be innately talented at drawing?

AND just to show off he makes you do a complex pose when it’s his turn to draw you. He ends up capturing it and your appearance on paper wonderfully.

You look great sketched by him, due to the pose he chose it almost looks like you’re in the middle of a dance, a sense of movement that made you look graceful and powerful. Just the type of thing Diego liked in his partners.

You’ve been a bit idealized in his drawing, not to your surprise, but you’re quite fond of it anyways. You make a point of not laying on the praise too thick though. Otherwise it would go to his head, and the last thing he needs is an even bigger ego.

-

Which Jojo character would you want to draw you? Personally I’d love a Rohan original but. I actually think DIO’s art style would be aesthetically pleasing to me-

[mrsvalentinefucker1]

Sbr dick hc + how they fuck!

F! Reader implied!!

Johnny Joestar

Dick: Johnnys Dick is cute just like him, It’s about 5.5 at most. thickness isn’t too wide but not too small either. It’s just right. It may hurt going in for a second but it all is good after that. He’s circumcised and his tip is pink/redish depending on what’s happening. His pubes are like a pillow around the base of his cock. They curl in some places and in others they swoop, obviously they’re dirty blonde<3

How he fucks: He is gentle but he can get a little lazy. Obviously you’d have to ride him for the most part but if he could he’d through you on the ground and show you how much he wants you. When you ride he grabs your hips and slams you down, not in a rough way but in a loving passionate way. He always makes sure you’re ready before he does anything, he fingers you while licking your clit and when he finds your sweet spot he’ll attack it until you cum in on his hand. He’s not very vocal instead he makes a series of grunts and whimpers. Maybe once he’ll say your name. His favorite places to cum are inside of you, on your boobs, in your mouth or on your face

Gyro Zeppeli

Dick: 5.9 damn near 6. Uncircumcised and it’s extremely sensitive at the shaft. His cock is thick, like thick thick. You have to use two hands to wrap around him. His pubes go all over the place. They are never shaven but he will occasionally trim them just a bit. He will definitely hurt going in.

How he fucks: He’s passionate but playful, he’ll try anything once. His favorite position is reverse cowgirl. He loves see your ass ripple as you slam yourself down onto his cock. He’s very vocal, he tells you how he wants it and he doesn’t give a damn. Since he’s so big he has to prep both of you, using lube wont help the whole process. 69 is how he gets you both ready at the same time. While he’s fucking you he makes sure to ask you if you’re enjoying yourself. His favorite places to cum are on your face, on your chest or on your ass/lower back

Diego Brando

Dick: 5.3 he’s short so… his dick has a small vein on the underside and if you lick/touch it, wooowee you’re in for a treat afterwards. His isn’t particularly thick either, it’s more thin than anything, doesn’t mean it doesn’t feel good though. He’s uncircumcised, his pubes are almost always shaven, if not shaven then trimmed to the base. He hates hair.

How he fucks: Hes not rough but he’s not loving either. You’re not his lover so it’s understandable why he wouldn’t be so caring and careful. He does his thing and then leaves essentially. His favorite position is doggy style or anything from the back so he can pretend your anyone he wants. Sucks I know. He pounds into you while saying how filthy you are to be doing this, you’re a slut, a dumb bitch, a needy whore who only wants his cum and nothing else. His favorite places to cum is on your back or stomach. Maybe your face if you’re lucky.

Funny Valentine

Dick: 6.2, he’s a tall man so it’s just obvious. His cock is thick. It will definitely hurt you when going in. He doesn’t feel bad about it though sometimes he will apologize afterwards, which is reassuring. His tip is his most sensitive spot. He’s circumcised so his cock is nice and clean looking. His pubes swoop, they don’t curl. They’re a dirty blonde with a hint of lighter blonde in them.

How he fucks: He loves role playing scenarios ex. You being his secretary and having a quicky, meeting at a restaurant and end up hooking up. Sometimes he’ll be passionate, but sometimes he just wants to bend you over his desk and fuck you until you milk him dry. He loves holding your hands down and just pounding you. As for the passionate part, he loves just having the blanket over you two while he’s on top of you, whispering how much he wants you and how he wants you to bear his child, maybe even some sensual stuff in the shower too… I’m gonna eventually make a fanfic on this<3 his favorite places to cum are inside of you, in your mouth or on your face. Oh yeah he has a serious breeding kink<3

[zeppeli-reelstallbun]

A Jury of One

part 4/? <- previous [masterlist]

[PAIRING] Gyro Zeppeli x Reader (diego&johnny x reader as a bonus)

[SUMMARY] Having to navigate your morning couldn't be any worse than last night... could it?

[WC] 8k

[!!!] Read previous parts!! Warnings are the same as previous installments. Feel like there might be more language. I promise this is a Gryo fic despite this chapter.

[AN] woof, did not expect to basically double the word count from last post. This one is very dialogue heavy in the back half especially so apologies. hate to be the bearer of bad news… Gyro is not the focus today fellas :( I opted to put this all in one part so we can get back to bbg asap, though!

When you opened your eyes, the faint pulsing near your temple was the first reminder of the events that took place the night prior. While you knew your innermost thoughts on the matter could be more eloquent if given the time, you instead settled for the more efficient phrasing: fuck.

Gyro knew. That much was blatantly obvious as much as it was terrifying, but you understood that he wasn’t the sole cause of your turmoil. No. Now you had something bigger, the ultimatum you’d made with the man still looming over your shoulder: You had to tell Johnny.

Two checkpoints. It was still two checkpoints away, that was plenty of time to think about this rationally. Right? You could do this. It didn't need to be difficult, it didn't need to be today, it just needed to be done eventually. At the very least, you could grant yourself this reassurance.

That didn't make it any easier to look him in the eye when you went down to grab breakfast, though. Under normal circumstances, you would have simply taken the food up to your room after avoiding the boys (or awkwardly leaving them to themselves). Ever so conveniently, however, Gyro had decided to sleep in that morning… not that you could blame him, your own hangover had left you yearning for a few more minutes of rest as well. Still, a small part of your brain couldn’t help but resent the man for hanging you out to dry. Perhaps that was his intent all along, though. It was a guaranteed way of forcing you to confront the situation you created.

You spotted the blond hair first, which sent a wave of guilt through your body instantaneously. As you considered turning around, though, fate decided to kick you in the shins once more for good measure. Lo and behold, Johnny was looking your way, flashing a smile like nothing had changed.

“Auggie, over here!” He shouted from across the lobby, waving his hand overhead to grab your attention as you exited the stairwell. The man was seated alone at the long bar you’d just barely noticed during check in, though the liquor was now locked up and a bartender was nowhere to be seen. That was normal, you figured. Why serve alcohol this early in the morning? The crowded tables also settled with a different energy than the evening had provided, guests now groggily moving through the motions of their morning routines instead of absentmindedly clanking and chattering.

You might have been scared shitless if it were anyone but Johnny waving you down, but with a single smile the man was able to reassure your nerves, even if he didn't know it. After a quick nod acknowledging his presence, you made your way over. You could take a plate up to your room afterwards, you told yourself. A conversation with Johnny was the sense of normalcy you needed after last night.

“No breakfast for ya?” He asked as you took the seat to his left.

You waved your hand, gesturing for him to continue without you. “I'll probably get something later, just needed to get up so I wouldn't stay in bed all day.”

"Yeah, I get that," he laughed softly, grabbing his fork and shifting his attention to the plate. "It's hard for me to eat right after waking up too, so I usually try to keep it light… sleep okay?"

The change in his voice was noticeable, but not exactly intrusive in nature. You knew Johnny well enough to understand what he was really implying, though. This was his way of testing the waters—of seeing how much you wanted to talk.

Unfortunately for him, however, you didn’t. There was no way of guessing what excuse Gyro had thrown at him, if he was even being honest about keeping your secret in the first place. You simply had to cross your fingers and hope he hadn’t spilled the news entirely in his drunken state, but even if he hadn’t, you couldn’t guarantee a story that wouldn’t contradict his.

So, you deflected with a semblance of humor. “What do you think, Johnny? I had a mattress for the first time in weeks. I got to bathe. This place is luxurious.”

He chuckled at your response, taking a moment to swallow the food he had been working on before you so rudely interrupted.

“What about you?” You returned the small talk as he tried to clear his throat.

He paused, picking his words carefully, still matching the dry tone you’d set. “Good… until Gyro started snoring.”

This was Johnny Joestar you were talking to, there was no way he was going to bring up the elephant in the room unless he knew you were comfortable with it. You wished he wasn’t this way, it would be significantly easier to disappoint him if he weren't such a genuine person—no, friend.

That was what made keeping secrets from Gyro easy, at least.

But he wasn’t Gyro. No, you happened to enjoy his presence considerably more; it was unfair to penalize him for someone else’s behavior. You might not be ready to explain everything, but you needed to get used to telling him things you didn’t want to. It was about to get a whole lot worse than this little ‘fight’ after all.

After a moment of thinking through the comfortable silence , you finally bit the bullet, leaning your elbows on the table in front of you as you spoke.

“He didn't wake you when he got there, did he?” You asked softly, probing for more context.

Johnny looked down sheepishly, as if not wanting to upset you with the answer. “Yeah, um. He did.”

“I’m sorry,,” you started before he shook his head at your apology, “I didn't check the time, but I know it was late and-“

He cut you off with his usual, friendly tone, “Really it’s fine. I probably couldn't have told you the time if I tried to remember.”

Why couldn’t he just be upset at the inconvenience? Why did he have to be so insufferably understanding? Maybe you had taken Gyros demeanor for granted, you thought for a moment. It was certainly easier to do this whole song and dance when you didn’t care as much about your partner.

“I’m really sorry Johnny, I know you had already”-

He cut you off again, waving his hands for added reassurance. “No, no don't be at all, I get it, I know he can be-“

“How much did he tell you?” It was your turn to interject, to cut through the red tape (even if you still weren’t exactly sure how to use that phrase).

“Didn’t want to talk about it,” he rubbed his neck, “so I figured you were in the right, whatever it was. He’s always been a stubborn loser.”

You scoffed at the statement, but deep down, felt an overwhelming sense of relief. Gyro had held up his end of the bargain, even if just for one night. You felt a temporary calmness wash over you with the realization.

Before you could reply, Johnny's eyes darted over your shoulder, smile dropping as you heard the sound of a chair scraping the floor.

You turned, expecting to see the Italian making an exaggerated entrance, but Johnny's voice cut through the air with unexpected bile before you could even react to the man hovering over your shoulder.

“I’m sure there's another table open.” He spat as you looked up at the unpleasant sight that was Diego Brando, cocking his head with a blatant disregard for the American as he continued to take a seat.

Why the lizard man was here in the first place, you had no idea. What you did know, however, was the fact that he looked way too smug for his own good, especially considering the last encounter you’d had with the man. He rolled his shoulders back as if physically brushing off Johnny's comment, closing his eyes as he laid his hand casually on the countertop.

“It’s alright,” Diego stated with confidence as he adjusted himself. “I won’t be staying, just needed to talk to August for a minute.”

You shot a glance back at Johnny as if to say, ‘I have no idea what this is even about.’ Thankfully, his expression matched yours—near identically, actually—offering a small sense of comfort. As you returned your attention to Diego, however, you were met with uncomfortable silence; he was raising an eyebrow at Johnny, eyes darting between the two of you. Was he seriously trying to get you alone right now?

As he cleared his throat, not so subtly flicking his head at the man to your right, you broke the silence. “No, whatever you want to say, he can hear it.”

“Sure about that? I don’t mind stepping aside.” He goaded, speaking directly to you.

“He’s sure, asshole.” Johnny echoed with a scowl. Diego simply shrugged at the statement, arrogance plastered on his face.

“Suit yourself,” he started before taking a moment to crack his neck, “I just wanted to ask why I overheard my name as I made my way to bed last night.”

You felt your expression fall as he continued, taking extra care to emphasize his words, “but seeing as Gyro isn’t here, I figured you might have something to say.”

Your breath hitched as you locked eyes with the man, his gaze now turning predatory as he revealed just enough to make you squirm. What had he heard?

“We weren’t talking about you? I mean, not specifically-”

He cut you off, “Oh sure, I know.”

You glanced back at Johnny, who looked understandably puzzled at the fragments of conversation being tossed around, making your stomach twist with guilt once more. Whatever Diego knew—or thought he knew—was a ticking time bomb. There was no point in risking it; you had to get yourself out of this conversation before he said something you didn’t want Johnny to hear. It was time to suck up your ego and bullshit your way through a half baked explanation. When had you even mentioned his name last night? Did you? No? Did Gyro? Fuck.

“We weren’t really- your name, I mean- we were talking about something else completely.” Admittedly, you could have been more confident.

Diego must have known this too, as he just squinted, letting you make a fool of yourself before repeating, “Like I said. I know.”

It was as if the room froze in that moment, making it incredibly difficult to pay attention to anything but your rapidly accelerating heart beat. Your suspicions had been all but confirmed in those five words: the lizard man heard too much.

While you were frozen with dread, Johnny leaned across the table—twisting parallel to you in order to get his point across.

“If you’re not asking for anything new, what the fuck do you need.” He scowled, placing his right hand down firmly, body turned inwards.

Diego didn’t even look at him. His eyes were locked with yours—no doubt trying to read your reaction for whatever reason—as he slightly shook his head at the attempted intimidation.

“I don’t make a habit of eavesdropping, you know.” He announced, condesending smirk still present. “But when it’s my name being tossed around, well, I just have to know the context it’s being used in.”

“I think we got that.” The man to your right scoffed without hesitation.

If there was one thing you learned in the past couple of minutes, it’s that you had severely underestimated the sheer loyalty Johnny Joestar possessed. He had no clear understanding of the situation—no way to interpret the underlying betrayal in Diego’s words—and he was still willing to defend you. If only he knew how much he was involved in this little conundrum… perhaps he wouldn’t be so willing then.

But, if there was one thing you learned about Diego Brando in the past couple of minutes, it was that he didn’t give two shits about Johnny Joestar and what he didn’t know. In fact, you’d go as far as claiming he enjoyed keeping something from the man—knowing something he didn’t. This was his way of flaunting that knowledge, of torturing the two of you swiftly and efficiently in one foul swoop.

“Patience- I’m simply trying to explain myself,” Diego replied, cutting your thoughts short. “All I wanted to express, I suppose, was that the context I did end up getting… well it certainly was not what I expected.”

He paused for a moment, turning his attention with practiced dramatic timing before finally acknowledging Johnny, head tilting forward as if instigating a challenge. “Would you like to hear it?”

You could have heard a pin drop as Johnny bit his tongue, turning instead to you for a hint of how to proceed. Unfortunately for him, your heart was in your ass, brain unable to take in anything but the way he was reacting to Diego’s taunting. Without realizing in the moment, you had frozen entirely; there was no way to make this situation any better, at least this defense mechanism ensured things couldn't get any worse… right?

You couldn’t think about that now. Scratch that- you couldn’t think. Did you need to? Yes. Is acknowledging the fact enough to actually do it? No. Not by a long shot. You were more than thankful for the cloth covering your face in this moment, it might have been the only thing letting you appear composed.

Thankfully, you weren't alone. Thankfully, your travel partner was nothing if not observant. And thankfully—after what felt like an eternity of studying you—Johnny turned, expression still hardened as he snapped you out of the haze with his careful response.

“Yes,” he started slowly, returning his attention to Diego, “But not from you.”

Johnny Joestar was no idiot. He was stupid at times, yes, and known on occasion to rush into things head first, but he was not incapable of critical thinking. There was no way he didn’t know he’d been denied information at some point during this conversation.

Johnny Joestar was no wordsmith, but he chose his speech with excruciating precision when needed. He was quick to speak among friends as much as he was diligent when communicating amidst chaos. There was no way he had misspoken, those five words addressed Diego as much as they addressed you. It was intentional, and you had no reason to question that line of thinking.

But, as you’d already noticed and mentioned before, Johnny Joestar was no stranger to loyalty. Anyone else might have jumped at the opportunity for division and clarification under the circumstances, but something deep within the American gave him an uncanny ability to cut through external bullshit. Diego might not have been lying to the man, but that did not mean he had good intentions with the revelation of information—even if it had been explicitly withheld from Johnny for a malicious reason. He was not his confidant, he was not his friend. Whatever the unknown factors of this situation were, the American didn’t trust Diego to explain them. He trusted you.

Why did he have to trust you?

After a moment of letting his statement settle, Johnny pulled back, returning to a more comfortable position in his chair. As he adjusted himself, there was no mistaking the way his eyes latched on to you. You refused to look at him, though; it would only make the lie that much harder to withhold from the man, especially now.

He was an unmovable object.

To make matters worse, it seemed that Diego was here to compliment him perfectly as an unstoppable force. He had a goal in mind while sitting down to speak with you, and it seemed he still hadn’t achieved it… was he trying to do more than provoke division amongst your team?

“What about you,” Diego continued, shifting his attention your way. “That’s pretty damning- nothing to say to that?”

“Can you just get to the point.” You snapped finally, tone so harsh you caused Johnny to do a double take.

“Ah there it is,” Diego teased, taking his time to draw out his words, “Knew you had it in you, wondered how long it was-”

“He said get to the point, asshole.” Johnny cut him off, irritation matching yours tenfold.

The Brit smirked once more, unaffected as he rambled on, “The point is—how do I put this—there might be some sort of arrangement we can agree upon, at least if I heard things right.”

You clenched your jaw as he continued, leaning in and lowering his voice as he practically whispered in your ear, “Are you reconsidering my offer to step aside yet?”

With those words—or more specifically, the belittling way he expressed them—something in your composure snapped. God, the arrogance and pretention had to have been clouding your judgement, surely there was no human being on earth as insufferable as him.

Without thinking, you got to your feet, caring little about anything but the lizard and your plans to dissect and skin him.

“I'm sorry Johnny,” you said while grabbing Diego by the wrist, pulling him out of his chair without remorse. “But If I decide to murder him, I can’t have you as a witness.”

You didn’t dare look back as you left. If he said something in response, you made an effort not to listen. You had to extinguish the biggest fire first; the only way to clean up this mess was taking it one step at a time, and if that meant apologizing to Johnny later, it meant apologizing to Johnny later. Besides, it wouldn’t be the worst conversation you’d have with the man this month.

Diego shook his hand free by the time you reached the stairs, hissing, “I’m not your dog. I have no intentions of running off without getting what I want.”

“Shut the fuck up until we’re behind closed doors.” You whispered, eliciting a small chuckle as he continued to follow your lead up the steps.

He retaliated almost instantly, “I thought we’d already established that closed doors don’t prohibit prying ears, did we not?”

You contemplated turning around to trip the man. Kicking him down the stairs would be cathartic, to say the least. But alas, you already had one murder charge on your head, there was no need to double your problems. As you exited the stairwell to traverse the upstairs corridor, however, you started regretting your decision to spare his life.

Diego was continuing to test your patience, even now as you navigated the suffocating hallway.

“If you really wanted to keep it a secret that bad, you wouldn’t have been screaming about it, now would you?” He snickered, letting the silence linger for a moment, “Or were you hoping Joestar would hear you? Hm? Maybe save yourself some trouble?”

You had already decided you weren't entertaining this any further, so you just shot him a glare as your hand found the doorknob to your room. You took your time twisting the cool metal while clenching your jaw once more, and before you knew it, you were holding the door open for Diego. He held his hands up in a ‘surrender’ motion as a reaction to your ever-so-welcoming demeanor, though his face still showed a sense of sick satisfaction for whatever was about to transpire.

“You gonna take that stupid thing off for me?” He teased as he moved through the threshold, eyes flickering to the fabric around your face.

You slammed the door behind you in response, tone cutting once more. “If I take it off, it’ll be so I can shove it up your ass.”

“Language,” he scolded after a pitying laugh. “That’s no way for a lady to speak, now.”

You were already sick of this. “How much did you hear?”

“Enough.” He replied casually, beginning a calculated walk around the room to examine his surroundings. You caught that he halted near the dresser, taking a moment to gawk at his reflection in the mirror hanging on the wall; ever the narcissist, you suppose.

He was taking his sweet time, yes, but you didn’t want to give him the satisfaction of wasting yours. “That’s not how this is going,” you spat,” If you’re going to blackmail me, or whatever, you tell me exactly what it is you know.”

“Look at that,” he cooed, continuing to traverse the room at an excruciating pace. “You don’t even know if I’m going to blackmail you and you’re already on edge. I didn’t realize it meant that much to you.”

You let out a scoff as he flopped onto the bed, crossing his ankles as he positioned a pillow behind his neck for support.

“Sure, make yourself comfortable instead of answering the question.” You retorted, grabbing the chair Gyro had claimed the night prior; you found yourself dragging it towards the bed with little care towards how it scuffed the ground.

“Relax,” Diego sighed, gesturing for you to calm down with his hands. “Like I said, I’m not going anywhere. No need to rush, right?”

As you seated yourself begrudgingly, you chose to ignore the statement entirely. Diego had made it abundantly clear he enjoyed getting a reaction out of you, silence was the only combatant.

“Alright fine, if you’re gonna be like that,” he whined, sitting up slightly before bringing his hand to his chin, exaggerating his thought process, “lets see… I know that Gyro sleeps with a teddy bear, he’s shit at making moonshine-”

You cut him off immediately, “You know what I meant.”

He furrowed his eyebrows, feigning confusion for a moment before allowing his face to light up with artificial amusement. “Ohhhhh, you meant about your predicament. Why didn’t you just say so?”

There it was again; an attempt to rile you up. As much as you wanted to slap the man, you knew biting your tongue would hurt him more. So that’s precisely what you did.

Another audible groan of disappointment rung through your ears.

“I heard enough to know that you and I have something in common.” He continued, throwing his head back as he apathetically spoke.

You snapped at him again with a glare, “Can you be direct for once, or do you get off on making me ask more questions?”

“Maybe I would if you took that bandana off, its less fun when I can only see the-”

“What could I possibly have in common with you?” He might have riffed off of you without hesitation, but that didn’t mean you weren't cutting him off when he crossed a line.

Your interjection didn’t mean he wasn’t done toying with you, though.

Diego simply shook his head with a ‘tsk’ before speaking—cadence reminiscent of a parent scolding their child. “Maybe if you’d let me finish my thoughts… and here I was, hoping to offer my guidance.”

You wanted to rip your hair out as he huffed unreasonably, but the man continued his statement, “Maybe I misjudged you, I was expecting a more willing participant in this little exchange.”

Avoiding an eye roll was challenging, “Oh were you now?”

“I’d be less judgmental if I were you, I mean,” he took another one of his dramatic sighs, pursing his lips for good measure, “it’s not every day you meet another person who’s been wrongfully accused of murder.”

It took you a moment to understand the meaning of his words, but thankfully, Johnny had filled you in on all the gossip and drama you’d never paid much attention to. One night around the fire, he mentioned that Diego Brando had married some old aristocrat, a poor nine-hundred-and-something year old elitist who would die of mysterious circumstances less than a year after their union. Rumors of foul play were just that: rumors. But you wouldn’t put it past the man, that’s for sure.

You scoffed at the irony of his word choice, “You’re really denying-”

Wait…shit.

You had overlooked what he was actually communicating, hadn’t you?

God, your stomach contracted in on itself as you realized how much you’d underestimated what Diego had truly been holding over your head.

“How long were you sitting outside that door.” You spat cautiously, all confidence leaving your tone as you pushed for clarification.

“Oh as long as I could stomach it.” He shot back instantly, “you know, I wanted to gag listening to the two of you flirt, but my gut told me I’d get something valuable if I stayed.”

You felt your blood boil, “We weren't-“

“Sure you weren't,” He cut you short, “It’s besides the point. What matters is that I followed my intuition and it paid off, right? Even if I am at risk of sitting on tainted sheets right now-“

“Alright, I’m clear.” You snapped. “You stayed long enough to get some leverage. Just get to it, are you planning on blackmailing me or not?”

Diego let out a hearty chuckle, “Of course I’m planning on blackmailing you. What kind of man do you think I am?”

“I’m not even sure you are one.” You uttered through gritted teeth. “Has it been long enough to joke about your little ailment? Can I call you ‘cold blooded’ yet, or is it too soon?”

“What an original observation you’ve made. I could practically hear the gears turning as you tried to spit that one out; could've sworn I saw a little smoke as well.” He shot back while squinting, smirk still present.

It was infuriating how much his amusement got under your skin—damn it, he had gotten under your skin. The slimy bastard was derailing you towards these exchanges of petty spite instead of… well, whatever it was that he wanted.

With the realization, you bit your tongue as you pushed for the actual meat of the conversation. “So, your silence in exchange for what, exactly?”

“It’s not that difficult, I assure you.” He waved his hand as a sign of assurance. “Incredibly fair too, considering the circumstances.”

If Diego wasn’t going to learn how to answer a simple question, why the hell should you be the one to call him out on it any more? You were perfectly content to let him stop there, after all; it wasn’t like you wanted him to blackmail you.

A scoff at your weaponized silence escaped his lips before he caved. “Just a little bit of trust on your end, that’s all I’m asking.”

“Huh?” You? Trust him? Yeah right.

“Trust…?” He repeated condescendingly. “I know it’s a new concept for you judging by how tenderly you spoke to Johnny downstairs—but do try to keep up.”

“You’re not telling me specifics, Diego.”

While you had initially hoped you could throw something at the bastard instead of continuously repeating these talking points, the mans predetermined response made you wish you’d kept your mouth shut all together.

“Well for starters, you’ll be showing me your face before I leave this room.” He suggested—no, demanded.

“For starters?” You echoed.

Stomach-churning fear at what was apparently his first request couldn’t be a good sign.

“For starters.” He confirmed, satisfaction dripping from his tongue. “I think we can agree that’s a bare minimum, yes?”

“And what else is on your list?” You grumbled, jaw aching from the tension requirements of biting back insults.

“Not much. Like I said, just mutual trust.” The Brit carried on, absentmindedly examining his nailbeds—which you assumed was some sort of intimidation tactic. “I’m sure we’ll cross paths again before we reach New York. You already know that, though. You must be painfully aware of it.”

Your teeth were back to grinding against each other as he hammered the point home.

“Every major event in this race, I’ll be there. Every inn, every checkpoint. Hell, I could trail your trio every step of the way if I wanted to.” He goaded before narrowing his gaze, “If it comes down to it, It would be awful to find myself in a situation where you sabotage me. Wouldn’t it?”

“What do you mean by that?” You blurted out, conscious of how small you felt in the moment under his prodding.

He was more than eager to explain. “Say for example, I don’t know, I end up finding the three of you in the wilderness at some point. If I were to ask your group for support, you would undoubtedly be the deciding vote.”

There was an unfortunate truth to his claim. Never in a million years would Gyro bestow an ounce of sympathy for the man, but If you voiced concern, Johnny would absolutely sway towards humanity… That was his angle?

“You want me to vouch for you?” You questioned.

“Among other things—ideally you'll be listening to my every word.” He began, taking a brief second to compose his thoughts before diving into them further. “You will fill me in at every checkpoint, tell me anything I might need to know; you will go out of your way to support my victory if the opportunity presents itself; you will do everything in your power to assist me from the sidelines; you will refrain from attacking me—I’ll even make that one mutual, if it calms your nerves. The second I harm you, you have my word the deal’s off, no strings attached. I won’t go out of my way to protect you, but you’d be expected to take a bullet for me. Is that alright?”

It wasn’t like he was genuinely asking.

You were seething at this point, tone of voice making it apparent as you snapped, “So I do what exactly? Lay down at your feet like a mutt any time you need something?”

“Now you’re getting it.” He taunted.

“That’s hardly fair-“

He interjected before you could ramble further. “It wouldn't be blackmail if it were.”

The weight of silence fell back upon your shoulders as you leaned forward in your seat, posture folding in on itself while your brain tormented you with predictions of what could come next.

“Thinking over your options? You’ll be sitting there all day, you know.” He quipped, voice lined with amusement.

You looked back up at the man as you grumbled, “Just trying to wrap my mind around the ways you’ll be abusing this.”

“If it helps, I can be upfront about a few of my ideas.” He replied, sitting up entirely while swinging his legs to the floor. “While we’re on the topic, though, you should know this agreement includes the finish line—if you make it that far. If it comes down to it, I expect you to lend a hand, this exchange is worthless if you don’t.”

You were starting to feel skeptical to say the least. Yes, you seethed at the notion of Diego telling Johnny your secrets; you hadn’t intended for the man to find out this soon and you certainly did not want to expose the whole truth of the matter… But he didn’t seriously expect you to sabotage your friends and throw the race over something like this, did he?

“Diego I’m in this thing for a reason,” You began, getting ready to push back the negotiation as much as possible.

The man sitting across from you seemed insistent on interrupting, though. “Don’t tell me—you need the funds to support your pitiful life in hiding? I assure you, your little problem will be taken care of as long as you cooperate with me entirely.”

The pieces finally started to click into place as you put the subtext together; he had heard damn near everything you’d confessed to Gyro last night, meaning that he had to have overheard Gyro’s ultimatum as well. Even if you did refuse to fold—if Diego told Johnny today—would the potential damage be more or less catastrophic than what he could do with you as his puppet?

Less. Significantly less.

Diego was grasping at straws, you realized, hoping you wouldn’t see through his bluffing. At most you would lose a good friend, but that was preferable to outright betraying one.

That was different.

With a new found form of reassurance, you began your interrogation, hoping to flip the conversation in your favor. “You heard everything then?”

“I would assume so, I left once I got the feeling your clothes were about to be removed-“

It was difficult resisting the urge to clench your fists, but you knew it was crucial to ignore the comment, lest his ego get in the way of your follow-up question. “Then you know I plan on telling Johnny soon?”

“I do.” He responded quizzically, leaning forward with his elbows on his knees as he examined your reasoning.

You felt relief for the first time in what felt like years; that was exactly what you had hoped to hear. You might have even been smiling as you revealed your final question to the man, a statement more than anything else. “Then why would I give a shit if you told him right now?”

Diego tilted his head, a glint in his eye that you couldn’t quite name as he questioned you. “What do you mean?”

“Sure. It’s not preferable having to fill him in like this, honestly it’s probably the worst possible way to deliver the news, but Johnny is my friend.” You started, unsure if you were trying to convince Diego or yourself. “I know the whole trust thing doesn't come naturally to you either, so I wouldn't expect you to understand…Damning and damaging as it might be, you could actually be doing me a service; I trust Johnny enough to know our friendship can take a hit.“

Diego tilted his head as he began to respond, “I see, well if that’s the case-”

“Fuck off, I’m serious.” You stopped him, adrenaline clouding your judgement. “I’ll march us down to him right now if you’d like… As soon as you tell him, there’s nothing left to leverage over us. Right?”

“Right, mhm.” He hummed in confirmation, repositioning himself so that his arms were now supporting his weight as he leaned back casually, letting you finish your thoughts.

You scoffed at his demeanor, shaking your head before pointing out the second flaw you’d noticed. “And even if I did take you up on this offer, you’d only have me under your thumb for two checkpoints. Did you overlook that part of your plan? Seriously, I would have thought this out a bit more if I were you.”

When you turned your attention back to him, the anticipation of his response made you smile, after what felt like hours of anxiety, you had finally weaseled your way out from under him.

Honestly, you should have known the satisfaction was too good to be true.

After a quick second of looking you up and down, Diego released a belittling chuckle. “That was a nice little speech. A waste of breath if I’m being completely transparent, but a nice speech nonetheless.”

“What?”

“You think this is about someone as insignificant as Johnny? God no.” Diego rolled his eyes back slightly in delight. “How you break his trust is none of my concern. I must admit though, it’s amusing how you behave when you think you have the upper hand.”

If he wasn’t telling Johnny, who was he going to- no. he couldn’t, right? No. He’d have to have actual proof to back his statements if he wanted to take this public. Right?

Before you could deny the grave you’d dug any further, Diego leaned forward, this time grabbing something from his pocket as he spoke. “What I’ m more concerned with, I suppose, is how much you’re willing to keep this a secret.”

As he tossed over the bundle of papers, you felt your blood run cold; if you didn’t know any better, you might've claimed your pulse had stopped entirely upon realizing he’d presented you with a newspaper. It couldn’t be what you thought it was, could it?

Well…

It could.

There it was, every fragment of the story you’d tried to purge from your memory laid out right before your eyes in excruciating detail. ‘Terror’ didn’t seem a strong enough word to describe the way you were feeling anymore. No, this was something completely impossible to put a name to; something you couldn’t have even fathomed feeling before this very moment.

“Oh don’t act so shocked,” He snapped your attention, were there seriously tears in your eyes? “You don’t think I lack in resources, do you?”

You tried to keep your voice from shaking, but your breath was too inconsistent to guarantee composure, “I didn’t even tell Gyro- how much-”

“You know, it’s intriguing.” He started, voice oddly comforting with it’s ‘matter of fact’ tone. “In the past five years there have been three instances of a female staff member fleeing the scene of a boarding school following a students murder. Did you know that? What are the odds?

“Furthermore, of those three cases, only one has been closed. Semi-lucky, but still not enough. To be completely candid, I was planning on waiting for the next stage so I could narrow it down exactly, didn’t think I’d be able to say with certainty which one was you. Thank god you made it easy for me, isn’t getting this over with now much more convenient?”

Was he finally letting you get a word in? Regardless, your thoughts were scrambled. “How did you-”

“Shot in the dark,” He replied with superiority, “thought it too much of a coincidence the article was published in August. To tell you the truth, though, I didn’t have a solid confirmation until just now.”

That would make it the second time in twenty-four hours you’d done that, what a sick fucking joke.

Before you could compose a response, Diego leaned forward, uttering your name—your real name—before adding, “Do we have a deal?”

To say you responded negatively would have been an understatement. The word felt unfamiliar—foreign, even—eliciting a visceral response as you realized how dehumanizing that notion was. It was your fucking name, for christ's sake; how was it something as personal as that was now being used to force you into compliance. You felt nauseous… and you didn’t even have the strength to hide it.

“That’s the reaction I’ve been wanting,” Diego coaxed, satisfied with the turmoil he’d inflicted. “When’s the last time someone called you that, hm? How long has it been? Tell me.”

“wehaveadeal,” you muttered, eyes fixed on the floor.

Deep breaths, come on. You weren't helpless yet.

“Whats that?” Diego teased as you tried to formulate a plan.

You tried not to scream, “I said we have a deal.”

“Come on,” he tutted gloomily, “look me in the eye while you say it.”

He could go fuck himself, you thought before snapping your head up, listening to half of his request.

“I’m keeping this,” you informed him, holding the newspaper up before starting to fold it.

His reply was one of overwhelming sarcasm. “Oh no, please don’t, its my only copy.”

“Fuck you,” you spat before thinking.

“Aw what’s wrong?” He started, and you were sure he’d continue to tease you if you didn’t interject now.

“Can you just get out of my room so I don’t start punching you.”

His demeanor was completely unaffected. “I thought we’d agreed you wouldn’t be harming me-”

“Get up-”

“Alright alright,” he cooed, taking his sweet time to rise to his feet. “You know what you have to do first, though. Don’t you?”

What?

Oh.

Oh.

“Do it yourself if you care so much.” You snapped, irritated beyond all reason as you stood to meet his level. He was a fool if he seriously expected you to give him that luxury willingly. No. If he wanted the bandana off, you were not going to be the one to do it.

He closed the distance unceremoniously, gesturing for you to turn with the flick of his wrist. “Hoping I’ll accidentally scratch you or something? Think I’ll regret that little condition of my extortion?”

“It would be nice if you did.” You shot back, rotating to face the dresser across from the bed. Wait. That’s right, you could still get out of this.

“In that case, you need to be more accommodating with your definition of harm.” Diego retorted, now standing directly behind you. “I’d forgive the occasional bruise if you inflicted it for good reason.”

His presence wasn’t intimidating like Gyro’s had been, looming heavily on top of you. Maybe his height had something to do with it, you considered as an explanation. That wasn’t to say the man was harmless, though. God no. What Diego lacked in stature, he more than made up for in presentation. Every move was calculated, every action well planned. Even now, as he stood behind you fiddling with the knot at the nape of your neck, you felt compelled to stare directly at the ground.

At least, you did until he instructed otherwise. “Look up.”

Your eyes connected with his in the mirror before you even registered the fact that you’d listened to his order blindly; if he was satisfied by this fact, his face gave no indication of it.

“What’s this.” He asked genuinely, hands finding the small pin nestled between your hair and the cloth.

Of course he wouldn’t know. “It’s a hairpin, dumbass.”

“I see,” he replied, “And how do I take it out?”

“Why would I tell you?”

His fingers froze around the base of the accessory, and the man returned to your gaze in the mirror as he answered, “Because I asked nicely.”

“You just pull it,” you mumbled after looking back to the floor.

As he loosened the knot once more, he nearly hissed at you—no, it was gentler than that.

“Eyes up.”

What else could you do but oblige?

You watched as the man finally unraveled the fabric, pin removed in one effortless motion as he let the cloth go. As your hair fell to your shoulders, you couldn’t help feeling incredibly exposed. Gyro had been polite, albeit a bit embarrassed, upon seeing your face for the first time. His gaze had been all over the place at first, clearly making an effort not to stare. You’d found it annoying at the time, but now you had been shown a worse alternative. Diego looked at you without shame; he looked at you as if he’d won.

As he stood there, studying the new intricacies in the reflection, your mind was racing with ways to get out of this situation. You just had to wait until he was gone, that was all. Once you were certain he was out of earshot, you would just have to fill the boys in. You could start with Gyro, he knew enough.

“Now that’s all I wanted.” Diego uttered while letting his eyes flicker up and down, breaking you from the thought.

“That’s not true.” You grumbled.

Just leave already.

“No it isn't,” He sighed, bringing his hands to rest on your shoulders as he continued, “just wouldn’t be able to live with myself if Zeppeli had something I didn’t.”

You weren’t giving him the time of day anymore. “Hands off.”

“Come on, cheer up. The worst parts over,” he goaded, taking a step back to listen to your request.

Taking advantage of your newfound personal space, you turned away from him as you responded. “No it’s not.”

“At least you’re not stupid.” You could hear the ridiculous smile in his voice, “Makes you more valuable.”

Thankfully, there was nothing left for him to do anymore. You were free to work out your plan in the comfort of solitude. You just had to wait for a few more seconds and he’d be gone. That’s all.

He spoke up once more, calling your name to get you to look his way. “I look forward to working with you, but let me try to imagine what’s going through your mind right now.”

He took his time, waiting for your full attention before he let himself begin another one of his frustrating speeches.

“I reckon you're wracking your brain with ways to get out of this little mess. If I'm right, you'll be counterintuitive the second I'm out of sight. You can try to get out of blackmail. I would advise you otherwise, but I suppose you could try.”

He cleared his throat, tone shifting to something more playful. “Oh but what’s stopping you from telling your new bodyguard? How would I ever know if you let Gyro in on it? Johnny? What’s prohibiting the three of you from just getting rid of me, hm?”

Of course he’d tied up loose ends. This probably wasn't the first time he’d done this, for fucks sake.

“The second copy of that newspaper is sitting in a sealed envelope alongside a very detailed account of your involvement in this race. Now that’s quite a story, isn’t it? Something I’m sure any journalist would be dying to get their hands on. I can see the headlines now.

“Anyways, I’ve left it with a confidant. Would you like to take a guess at what I’ve instructed him to do with it?”

“I get it. Just go.” You spat.

He shook his head disapprovingly. “We need to be clear on this… The second I even think you’ve stepped out of line, the second I stop responding to his letters… well, you know.”

The man finally made his way to the door as you stood there in shock, wondering if he was actually about to leave or if he was just making another show of things.

“The choice is yours really. You could try to risk it,” He jabbed, shrugging aloofly. “But like I said. I would strongly advise you otherwise.”

As the pit in your stomach reached rock bottom, he reached for the door handle. With one final nail in the coffin, he snapped to grab your focus; the man had thrown your own hairpin back to you before departing.

Hold on a second.

Your bandana was in his other hand.

After taking in the sense of realization on your face, Diego let out one final remark. “See you at the starting line, August.”

[masterlist] [join a taglist]

AN: how realistic is diego getting a newspaper clipping in under twelve hours with this incredibly limited information? slim to none. Does that matter? No because I said so. I am so sorry for 0 gyro in this chapter. This is truly important filler I swear (cough cough self indulgence) Also, I’ve been toying with the idea of the reader having a stand, but have no idea how to go about that

Thanks for your patience on this one. I'm an academic weapon this semester though, tryharding literally every class I’m in!!

@rainiscoollikeyou @mysticalzonkthingparty @elitesanjisimp

[jojolymes]

𝐀𝐌𝐈𝐃𝐒𝐓 𝐏𝐀𝐋𝐎𝐌𝐈𝐍𝐎; thirty-seven

࿔*:･ﾟ xxxvii.

next: ࿔*:･ﾟ xxxviii.  |  table of contents

THE SECOND the sugary, saccharine scent of half-ripened plums stopped hanging in the leaden air around you, you let out a burdened breath to let bitterness pool in your stomach. Your hips shifted with each step Thunderstruck made, her hooves leaving impressions in the malleable ground. With your hands clamped tight around the reins, you looked over your shoulder at the endless lines of white-painted trees, overlapping with layers of dusky violet. Somewhere in there, behind all the leaves, was that decrepit cabin, already collecting dust.

You turned back around to look ahead at the neverending miles and miles of lush grassland stark against the cerulean sky. There was hardly a cloud in sight, save perhaps for a few dusty sweeps of white far up in the air. A gentle breeze swept across the green, rustling the high pasture until it reached you, messing with the fabric you had across your nose and mouth. You tugged at it, pulling it down and pressing it against the plush of your lips, ignoring the words of the two men before you.

"Shit, how far along do ya think Diego got along?" grumbled Johnny, running a veined hand across the width of his forehead, resting his tense fingers along his hairline. His hat resisted futilely, slowly revealing more of his blond hair until he tugged the blue knit forward. In his other hand sat the worn map all three of you had been using since you joined them back in the second stage— the markings from the previous owner had long been written over by three different forms of penmanship.

"There's no point thinking about that, Johnny," Gyro huffed, raising his hands out in front of him, stacking his fingers atop each other, "only two hours of daylight left. We should get moving." Your wristwatch sat heavy with obsolescence. Gyro's brows furrowed tight before he slumped back into his saddle, crestfallen. You were mere seconds from looking away, wholly uninterested in any more of their chatter, when his green eyes shot up to meet yours.

Your heart gave a hollow thump, so you gave Gyro a tight-lipped smile— you could barely call it a smile, though. He looked away immediately, settling into his saddle properly, hands clutched around Valkyrie's reins. You could almost laugh. Almost. Johnny groaned suddenly, dropping his hands to his lap with a deep frown that accentuated his typically non-existent smile lines. His baby blue bottom lip puckered out the tiniest bit.

"But he has a hundred-ninety points! I only got a hundred-thirty, and you- you only got seventy-one!" Johnny protested, his brows furrowed tight until the skin between formed ridges of ivory. And I have 115 points, you thought, letting your eyes travel back to the beautiful green grasses and clear blue skies. If you were ever to settle down, maybe you'd do so over here— far, far away from Johnny, Gyro, and that creepy cabin. 

Maybe with...

Your stomach flopped weakly as a scaly smile appeared in the forefront of your mind before quickly being replaced by steely maroon eyes framed by hot pink hair. You brushed the thoughts off just as fast as they had come, distracting yourself with Thunderstruck's impatient huffs. She pawed at the dirt with her hooves, her horseshoes dull and dirtied. You'd have to take the time to polish them once you had the chance. Perhaps there was a town nearby. You weren't sure you wanted to camp out for the umpteenth time in a row.

"Look, there's nothing more we can do. All we can do right now is move forward," Gyro sighed, rubbing the patches of beard on his chin with the back of his hand, "if we head East from here, we should be able to reach the next Corpse Part before he gets to it or gets first in the race." You felt Iron Maiden break away from you to look East, her shining silver armor glinting in Johnny and Gyro's peripheral. 

"Since Iron Maiden is back, we're less likely to stray off route," Gyro added, ignoring the stray glance you threw his way, "now, seriously, Johnny, let's get moving. I can't afford to get anything but first place!" Gyro squeezed his legs around Valkyrie, just enough to get her flying forward. Johnny did the same with a soft tug at the reins instead. You followed suit, letting yourself fall to the back of formation with Iron Maiden hovering close beside you. 

Just like that, you and your two companions were off, thundering down the Great Plains, held back only by brief gusts of wild wind. The following two hours were devoid of much talking, save for Iron Maiden's occasional interruptions of "East, East" that kept you all on track. You were grateful for that much. It seemed Johnny and Gyro had at least taken the hint that you wanted anything but to talk to them. It made the prospect of leaving them in ten days much easier on your conscience. 

You all eventually stopped a good 30 or so miles from the outskirts of Dodge City which had Gyro ranting and raving about all the pretty women they would see. You had tucked in early before he could see the disgust on the visible part of your face. Sleep came begrudgingly slow despite all that had happened two hours earlier. Your mind was littered with hot pink until you had managed to steady your pounding heart— you didn't want to think too much about how you assumed Hot Pants would just let you tag along with him during the fifth stage.

Before you knew it, the early morning came, emphasized by the frigid chill of the wind. From behind the flaps of your tent, you could hear Johnny and Gyro's gravelly voices, roughened by that same cold. You forced yourself to ignore the heat that crawled up the back of your neck, emphasized by the pins and needles that made your head go numb. You adjusted the fabric on your face and shuffled out of your tent, rubbing at your eyes as you did so. 

"G'morning," you mumbled, slowly getting to your feet and blinking hard until your eyes adjusted to the change in light. Once your vision normalized, you found yourself staring at Gyro and Johnny who had gone rigid when you appeared before them. Silence sat heavy in the morning air as two pairs of eyes stared you down.

"... What? Is there something wrong?" you muttered, crossing your arms over your chest. You knew things were awkward with them  Before you could scoff and brush it off, Gyro pointed up at his head where his hat sat. You mirrored him slowly, reaching up where your hat was— only it wasn't there. Your heart stopped. You scrambled backward, nearly falling on your ass, and practically threw yourself into your tent.

There, sitting unceremoniously next to your pillow, was your beloved hat, the embroidered name under the rim like always. 

"Huh..." You picked it up, gave it a brief once over, and plopped it back onto your head, tucking any excess hair into it. You sat there a moment and then crawled back out to where Johnny and Gyro still stood, seemingly still affected by whatever it was that had made them stare so blankly at you. Then it hit you.

"Do I look that weird to you guys without my hat?"

Johnny winced.

 "...No?"

"Oh my... you guys do think I look weird."

Gyro gave a pathetic laugh. 

"It-It's not that, Speedwagon, it's just-"

"I... don't want to hear it." And with that, you spent the rest of the day in complete silence, relying on Iron Maiden's directions as you all made your way to Dodge City. For the most part, you had managed to ignore the thought that Gyro and Johnny were most likely ignoring the fact that you were actually a girl, but when you did, the sensitive skin under your eye twitched like no tomorrow. 

Did you really look weird without your hat? Or maybe... had you managed to pass as a man so well that you had lost that little touch of femininity you had held on to as the sole daughter of a man with almost too many sons? No... surely you hadn't. Diego had immediately asked for your hand in marriage after meeting you. But was that because he thought you were pretty, or was he just trying to get into your head? Your mind, swirling with doubts, kept you busy until you arrived at Dodge City under the light of the moon and the stars.   

"Congratulations on your arrival, sirs—" Walter and Wallace Scott, the two identical men who had managed to hop from checkpoint to checkpoint since the first stage, greeted you with clipboards in hand—"The citizens of this fair city have graciously offered their services for use in the race! As usual, we must check your race numbers and your horses' prints." The words managed to break you out of your stupor, and you gave a blank nod before getting off your saddle.

"Could you tell us who's in the lead?" Gyro asked as he jumped off his saddle, patting Valkyrie on the neck. She replied with a soft snort, and Slow Dancer did the same while Johnny unbuckled himself from his saddle. You watched from your peripheral while Thunderstruck leaned down to press her nose against the ink pad Wallace held up. You brushed a hand through Thunder's white mane, watched Johnny spin his way off of Slow Dancer, and muttered "good girl" under your breath.

"I'm afraid not, Mister Gyro," Walter replied, handing his clipboard over to Gyro, who read it over with a scrutinizing eye, "we lost sight of some of the racers in the front lines, you see. We presume that Mister Diego Brando is in the lead, but our people haven't seen him or any other high-placing riders on the suggested course." Gyro hummed as he returned the clipboard, crossing his arms over his chest.

"Great," Gyro grumbled, sighing as he turned to Johnny, who heaved himself onto his wheelchair, "well, we can't do much at this time of night. We'll leave at first light tomorrow." You watched Johnny's bottom lip pucker out once more— did he know he did that? To be fair to him, it wasn't that noticeable, just something you noticed. But someone really had to tell him. It was just laughable. Not in that it looked bad, but-

"My sincerest apologies, Mister Speedwagon! I must have been distracted," Wallace fretted, his hands and red vest coated in black ink. You raised a brow and looked down at the darkening black stain on your shirt and jeans. You froze, scrunching up your features in mild defeat. You then looked down at Wallace, who looked guiltier than you had expected. You let out a soft breath— nothing a good wash couldn't fix.

"Hey, hey, no worries, man," you chuckled, patting Wallace on the shoulder with a smile he couldn't see, "I can just buy something temporary 'till I get these washed up!" You ignored the little voice in the back of your head reminding you of your horridly low funds and the unused clothes in the bottom of your saddle bag that you still hadn't gotten rid of. 

"Say, if you're finished with the prints, I'll just take Thunderstruck here to the stables if you could point me in their direction," you prompted with a pat on Thunder's neck. You could already feel the ink seep onto your skin, which meant you'd have to take a shower later, which normally wasn't an issue. But you barely had any money left, which meant you would have to share a room with Johnny and Gyro, if they even would allow you to, and the last thing you wanted was to shower in the bathroom of an inn chamber that you had to share with either of them.

Curse your innate talent to think of every possible horrible situation you could find yourself in.

"Yes, of course! Just take this road and make a left at the end. The stables should be right there!" 

"Thanks," you beamed, trying desperately not to show how anxious you already were from just the mere thought of being anywhere near those two when you went to sleep later that night. What if there was only one room left? What if that one room only had one bed? You shuddered and hurried away toward the stables, missing the shared looks from Johnny and Gyro. 

The second you stepped foot into the stables, you let out a heavy breath, slinking against your beloved Palomino. Thunder huffed and made her way to an empty block in the corner as she always did, her ears flicking every which way, every time she saw a horse she didn't like. You still don't know how she managed to get along with Valkyrie and Slow Dancer. You opened the block door, allowing her to walk in and for you to follow once she turned around. 

"Hope you don't mind me, Thunder," you mumbled, taking off all her heavy equipment and reaching out past the door to hang it on the hooks. All your personal belongings would be coming with you to the inn, but until you could increase your pitiful funds, then... You looked at your saddle bag and almost cried. With a groan, you pulled off the fabric around your mouth and the hat off your head so you could change into the clothes you hadn't worn in months.

It took a good five minutes for you to change, save for the few moments you took to wipe at your ink-stained torso with your dirtied clothes. You had wet your shirt with some water from the trough inside Thunder's particularly roomy block, making taking off the ink easier than you had expected. Still, there was a faint gray spot on your body that you made a note to scrub off later.

But then you were back, dressed in that long brown skirt and a well-worn beige blouse. At least back at the beginning of the race, you had a looser-fitting shirt. Your collarbone felt far too bare, too exposed to the brisk air outside. Not to mention that the blouse was tighter than you had grown accustomed to from your time in the race. You sighed for the millionth time— at least the sleeves stopped at your elbow. 

"Speedwagon? You in here?" You froze at the sound of Johnny's signature Kentucky drawl. The last thing you had expected was for him to come after you. He continued calling for you with, of course, your last name. You looked down at your attire and nearly screamed. What if someone overheard or saw you reply to Johnny calling you by your race name? How were you supposed to explain that to a stranger?!

"Speedwagon? Look, I know- mmph-" Johnny had no chance to say another word as you dragged him into the block, clamping a hand over his blue-lipstick-covered lips. God, maybe it was the blue lipstick that made you distracted whenever he pouted. You met his gaze with a finger on your lips, eyes narrowing until he nodded. When you finally took your hand off his lips, you wiped away the blue stain on your palm on your skirt.

"Johnny, you can't call me Speedwagon right now, okay?" you whispered, leaning down towards Johnny, face scrunched as he stared at you absently, "under absolutely no circumstances can you call me that. Not until I can get my other clothes clean. Until then, it's (y/n), and only (y/n)." Johnny kept staring, a small crick in his brow forming while you stepped back and ran your hands down your face with a groan.

"Can you at least respond?!"

"You're that girl Gyro saved after the first stage."

"...Johnny, you are beyond insufferable right now." 

Johnny's face scrunched up, lip puckered out again. You wanted to punch him in the mouth.

"The hell?! Why?!"

"It really took you almost a whole stage to realize that?!"

"Yeah?! What's wrong with that?!"

"Seriously?!" You turned and put your face against Thunder's shoulder and screamed into the joint, to which she gave a mere flick of her ear in response. When you turned back around, Johnny gave you that same mindless stare that he had been giving you the entire day. Nine more days, you thought to yourself, nine more days and change until you could get away from these assholes.

"You know what, doesn't matter, let's go get Gyro," you grumbled, ignoring Johnny's protests as you grabbed the handles of his wheelchair and pushed him out of the block. You turned back around to put your clothes into your saddle bag, as well as your hat, which you then hung from a hook in the corner of the large block. With a soft pat to Thunder's flank, you were back beside a very irritated Johnny Joestar.

"I don't know what you're thinking, but Gyro's at the tavern across from the inn," Johnny stated, his brow furrowed as he rolled after you, who walked out the doors of the stables with a huff, "he was talking about gettin' with some woman he saw." You were hardly surprised at what Johnny had told you, but what really shocked you was just how talkative Johnny had become. What? Did he suddenly tolerate you again? 

You could feel yourself bristle with every step you made in the direction of the tavern, ignoring the occasional whistle that you got from the men around you. They didn't seem to notice Johnny rolling behind you— it was pitiful, really, but you had lost all ability to feel pity for him or Gyro since the beginning of this stage. You and Johnny maneuvered your way to the tavern with you rejecting the advances of every man who called for you and Johnny grumbling all the way. 

When you slammed open the swinging tavern doors, it didn't take long for you to set your sights on Gyro, twirling a strand of some brunette's hair around his finger. Johnny came to a stop beside you, holding up a hand to keep the door from hitting his face had you decided to let go. You watched Gyro give the girl a sleazy, golden-grilled smile, behind his green-painted lips. He hadn't noticed you or Johnny just yet, which was more of a blessing than anything else. You were a moment away from screaming at him when you really took in your surroundings.

The tavern was filled with drunken, disheveled men and a few women who giggled at all of their slurred words. It reeked of alcohol, of course, as well as vomit and another lingering smell you weren't quite sure you wanted to think too hard about. But in the heavy haze of musk, you watched as men slid small pouches across tables, their telltale jingling giving away just what was inside: Money. You suddenly became hyper-aware of the nearly empty pouch in your saddle bag back at the stables— as well as a man sitting at an empty table nearby.

"Great. Y'know, I told him he had to get his own room if he..." Johnny trailed off as you sauntered away from him, heading toward an almost empty table. He watched with narrowed eyes as you pulled out a seat across from a man who had laid cards out across his side of the table. He could feel his heart hammer in his chest as you smiled at the man, tucking stray locks behind your ear. And your lips, you were... biting them. Since when had you gotten so bold? The man mirrored your smile and in an instant, Johnny was headed for Gyro.

"Shit- Gyro!" Johnny blustered, rolling up to the counter, catching the eye of his blond friend and the brunette who scoffed at Johnny at first sight. She was irrelevant anyway, at least to Johnny.

"Woah there, Johnny," Gyro laughed, gritting his teeth into a smile that spoke for itself: Not now. Johnny ignored the silent message and pressed on. The brunette glared and scoffed a little louder, swirling around the drink Johnny assumed Gyro had bought her. 

"Dammit, Gyro! Speed- (y/n) is uh- Look, he's- she's- I mean- fuck-" Johnny dug his hands into his hat and then pointed behind him where you sat, swinging your feet in your chair, "Just look!" Gyro flicked his hat up and leaned to the side where you sat, laughing with the man who sat in front of you. He had nearly toppled over at the sight of you, no hat to be seen again, dressed in clothes he had never seen you wear before. He could actually see that you had... well... a chest.

"What the hell is she doing?" Gyro growled, now ignoring the brunette beside him. She made a noise of offense and stormed off, unbeknownst to Gyro or Johnny. They kept their eyes on you and that man who was now gathering up his cards from the table. You put your chin in your hands as you watched him make cards dance across his fingertips, shuffling the cards in flamboyant ways that made Gyro and Johnny scowl. You gave the man a cute round of applause, giggling in a way they had rarely, if not ever, heard. 

Little did they know, as you feigned a giggle, you kept a close eye on the cards, the man smiling a little too wide for your tastes. His dark hair cast a shadow over his eyes, nearly distracting you. He distributed ten cards to each of you, far quicker than you could ever manage to do so. You had only ever played this game in passing when Scott or Seth had roped you into playing a quick round with them. While you had gotten a good grasp of it over the years, you could feel your mind shout in protest. The man finally met your eyes again, and for a moment, you swore you saw a flash of flowers appear on the wall behind him.

"READY TO PLAY NOW, SWEETHEART?"

3600ish words, oh my god... guys... it's been too long. I AM SO SO SORRY FOR THE DELAY!! i have had the worst case of writer's block that I have been trying desperately to work through. the fact that I even managed to write this chapter felt crazy to me. here's to hoping I can get my writing back for good because I want to update ALL my fics crazy bad. ESPECIALLY my one piece and jjk one ( I swear I will update it yall)... but THANK YOU ALL SO MUCH FOR STICKING WITH ME AND SUPPORTING ME THOUGH I LOVE YOU ALLLLL SOOOOO MUCH <33333

anyways, semi-unrelated but I have a tiktok where I draw and shit (and post my art for the fics I write) so if u wanna follow me on there my @ is quad.balls !!!

some semi-important notes for this chapter:

walter and wallace scott are references to the scott twins from the band the whispers!! they canonically do not have a name in steel ball run as far as I could find but if they do have names please let me know so I can change that!!

thank you all again for reading this fic and I swear I will try to update more <3333

[smmagain]

“… you're beautiful”

[concretepie]

Hang in there Lucy, he’s going to be a minute.

Follow up from this

[tanyadreww]

[lilacliquors]

day one: walking in a winter wonderland - steve harrington

day two: rocking around the christmas tree - steve rogers

day three: i saw mommy kissing santa claus - soldier boy

day four: dreaming of a white christmas - bi-han

day five: last christmas - diego hargreeves

day six: baby it's cold outside - johnny cage

day seven: christmas wrapping - homelander

day eight: all i want for christmas is you - poe dameron

day nine: santa baby - miguel o'hara

day ten: jingle bell rock - soap mactavish

day eleven: let it snow - tomas vrbada (smoke)

day twelve: the most wonderful time of the year - billy butcher

[waitingandwishing]

WHO WILL PRAY FOR YOU?! WHEN YOUR BODIES GONE? 😫❤️

i dunno abt you but nerdy prudes must die has consumed my life once again and im thinking about adding a line into one of the things im writing

[bloody-starr]

jojo sketch dump, mostly faces to help get the hang of the characters