#johnny x Diego

[concretepie]

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[tanyadreww]

i painted it

[venolfy]

"Come here, Sweetheart!"

[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]

Various jjba characters x reader: sleeping habits and headcanons

Dating/married depending on character

Characters: Joseph Joestar (part 2), Rohan Kishibe, Guido Mista, Bruno Bucciarati, Leone Abbacchio, Johnny Joestar, Gyro Zeppeli, Diego Brando

Warnings/Content: drinking, general angst and lots of fluff

Joseph Joestar: Guy who sleeps in just a tank top and boxers. Comfort is key to Joseph, and he’s a big man too, so he takes up lots of space in bed, often sprawling himself out almost like a starfish. You’re the one who’s gonna have to adjust when you share a bed with him…he’s large so he doesn’t move easily and even though he’s not a super heavy sleeper, he PRETENDS to be so you won’t try and wake him up to ask him to scoot. He’s a bit of a snorer too, only sometimes though, which wouldn’t be so bad if you could get him to roll onto his side but. He won’t do that so easily for you. He’ll just wrap his big strong arms around you, his face pressed up against yours and at first you’ll feel pretty irritated he’s opted to just cling to you but…it is a very safe and comfortable feeling. You can’t stay grumpy for long.

He wakes up pretty early, and he usually doesn’t like to sit still so. He’ll get up and do his own thing and come see you when you wake up. He somehow always seems to know when you will. He usually doesn’t think to bring you anything though, beyond the occasional coffee if he’s expecting you to have a slow morning. Then he’ll lay his head in your lap while you lie in bed and tell you about everything he’s already taken care of today and what he plans to do next. So much energy…slow down a bit, Joseph…

Rohan Kishibe: He’s a bit of an enigma when it comes to his nighttime rituals…due to the nature of his stand his actual work doesn’t take him that long, but he spends long evenings doing research for his manga, or simply being a bit of an insomniac. He struggles with relaxing in the evenings, a very restless man…he needs a lot of unwinding time if he actually wants to get any sleep at night, and he doesn’t usually ask for it specifically, but your company brings him comfort and makes it easier to relax.

You’ll just stay up with him drinking something warm and talking while he organizes all his thoughts in his sketch pads and notebooks or out loud to you. He’s got a brilliant mind, and even when you’re tired and staying up late to help him unwind you always gain something from the experience.

He’s particular about physical affection, but he’s slightly more open to it at night, admittedly enjoying the occasional massage on his stiff shoulders from you before bed.

He’s not snuggly when (if) he finally goes into the bedroom, happy to stick to his own side of the bed. To him, the bed is for getting rest and not much else. A necessity for maintaining the prison that is the flesh.

Sometimes he has a long, drawn out evening routine doing stretches before bed and washing his face and reading before bed and all that stuff. Other times he simply collapses into the sheets, falling asleep almost immediately. Thankfully he’s got a slight build, so you can move him over easily, but if he wakes up from you trying to move him he’ll be grumpy. He tries to wake up early, and is usually successful, but on the few mornings where he can’t get himself going you’ll take it upon yourself to help him wake up by making him his coffee (he’ll complain about how you make it wrong but still drink it anyways.) Sleepy morning Rohan is so cute even though he’s so grouchy and grumbling about you being in his face while he’s waking up.

Guido Mista: He likes to stay up late doing whatever it is he does at night, but is very easily coaxed to bed by you if you want him to join you. He’s an easy sleeper, falls asleep fast, and can fall asleep almost anywhere. Sometimes all he needs is to pull his hat over his eyes and he’s Out like a light. But if he’s gonna fall asleep wherever, he prefers to fall asleep on you, whether he’s leaning on your shoulder or using your lap as a pillow. And of course you can do the same to him, but he’ll get a little flustered if you fall asleep on him, worrying about waking you up on accident.

He’s not too worried about nighttime routines. He’ll just go to bed when he’s tired in whatever he’s wearing. You usually have to tell him to at least take off his belt before bed so he’s somewhat comfortable.

He loves snuggling in bed with you, often crawling on top of you and falling asleep with his face nestled into your collarbone. It’s super cute but sometimes he feels SO heavy and combined with his snoring you’ll have the occasional difficult night for the sake of his comfortable rest. But it’s alright. Stroking his back while he uses you as his own personal mattress and snores his heart out is so sweet. (Also ok. Imagine the bullets lined up next to you all snuggled under the blanket that’s giant compared to them. You’re like there’s no way you sleep like that and Mista’s genuinely like what’s wrong with it????)

Bruno Bucciarati: He’s not sure when the last time he’s had an actual decent night’s sleep was. He is stressed and overworked all the time, which leads to many sleepless nights. Often times he’ll come to bed and try to sleep for a moment, but once he thinks you’re asleep you’re usually greeted to the sight of his bare back as he sits at the edge of the bed debating if he should just get up and start his day since sleep won’t be coming to him anytime soon. If you reach out and touch him though, he’ll allow himself to lie by your side a little longer, to put you at ease. He knows you worry about him. Occasionally he’ll get a few hours of sleep, but often you hear: “I just need to take care of a few things, dear…” and he kisses your forehead and climbs out of bed and tries to be as quiet as possible as he gets dressed for the day.

When he does manage to fall asleep, he’s neither a light or heavy sleeper, but his exhaustion is visible in how he sleeps. How his brow manages to be furrowed even in his sleep astounds you, but he still retains a sort of elegance with his head against a pillow and his hair slightly unkempt as his soft breathing makes his chest rise and fall. He’s not particularly physically clingy in his sleep, but he’s not opposed to holding your hand or wrapping an arm around your waist, and it won’t bother him if you curl up into his chest while you sleep. He might even sleep a bit better.

Leone Abbacchio: He’s got an inconsistent sleep schedule, tending to go to bed whenever he wants, whether that be really early or really late. He either takes forever to fall asleep, or is out like a light as soon as his body comes into contact with a semi-comfortable surface. He’s not used to consistently sharing a bed with someone, don’t take it personally when he’s not the most considerate bedmate, especially at first. He doesn’t like being touched or snuggled in his sleep. He’ll complain and push you away, usually saying something about how it’s too hot for you to be clinging to him like that. He just finds it way too intimate for someone like him to snuggle with someone like you in bed. Intimacy, vulnerability…he’s not used to it and he’ll resist it for a long time, even with you.

He tends to wake up either in the middle of the night, or late into the morning. He doesn’t like to talk about it, he’d probably never if given the choice…but he has nightmares on occasion. Intense ones, where he’ll nearly scream himself awake. He’ll apologize for waking you, but usually won’t tell you what’s wrong, crawling out of bed in just his sweatpants to drink away whatever the hell woke him up so violently. Follow him if you’d like. He won’t want to talk, but he’s visibly shaken, drumming his fingers against his glass and staring down into the liquid. You press your forehead against his bare back and attempt to hug him from behind. He’s stiff, unresponsive, quietly telling you that you should go back to bed and he’ll join you…in a moment.

Johnny Joestar: He’s comfortable to sleep next to, something about him feels so…safe. He’s a pretty sleeper, breathing softly in his sleep, nuzzling against you if you’re close, clearly so exhausted and so in need of a decent night’s rest. He frequently wakes up in the middle of the night, often for no apparent reason. Sometimes he can fall back asleep. Other times he’ll just lie awake, frustrated that he woke up at such an unreasonable time, but used to it at this point.

He doesn’t mind cuddling at night but he’s secure keeping to himself. It’s probably most comfortable for him to just hold your hand when he falls asleep, so he can have his own space and the comfort of your companionship at the same time.

You have the best late night conversations with him when you both have the misfortune of waking up in the middle of the night for whatever reason. Even when he’s just complaining about his messed up sleep schedule, you love listening to him talk.

Sometimes he’ll have random bouts of clinginess though, where he wants to wrap his arms around you or lay his head in your lap or bury his face into the crook of your neck while he falls asleep.

Gyro Zeppeli: Your big, rugged, handsome Italian cowboy of a husband can sleep just about anywhere, but of course he has a preference for sleeping with his sweetheart in his arms. He enjoys pulling you on top of himself when you’re snuggling in bed, and despite your protests he insists he literally sleeps better with your weight on him. You can roll off of him after he falls asleep. He’s a heavy sleeper, and he snores real loudly. You have better luck just hoping he’ll roll onto his side than trying to move him yourself or waking him up. It can be irritating, but you’re glad he’s able to sleep so comfortably. You thought he’d be inconsistent with a nighttime routine but if he has the means to take care of it he’ll actually get fussy until he does it. It’s kinda hot watching him brush his hair while also taking off his accessories because he’s too impatient to get to bed to do one thing at a time.

Despite how huge and uncoordinated he might seem by appearance, he’s got a lot of grace and elegance. Despite doing so many things at the same time, he doesn’t mess himself up even once.

He also sleeps really good with his head on your lap or against your chest. Be prepared, if he falls asleep on top of you you’re gonna have a hard time escaping. Better get comfortable.

Diego Brando: He’s so difficult to sleep next to…HOW does he snore that loudly?! And he writhes around in his sleep a lot, sometimes his body is freezing, and you really notice because he clings to you often. It’s not even intentional, he just wraps himself around you in his sleep and won’t release you unless you wake him up. He’s a blanket hog too, unsurprisingly. He Can fall asleep anywhere if he has to, but he prefers to sleep in a comfortable bed, with a bunch of pillows, since he loves to feel like a king. He typically wakes up super early, and exercises or reads in his private study (which is more of a trophy room than anything). Though he thinks sleeping in is more of an “apex of society” thing, he can’t stand lazing around in bed in the mornings, with the exception of when he’s not feeling well or you somehow wake up before him and decide to spoil him with breakfast in bed. It makes him feel important, so he encourages you to treat him. As annoying as it is to deal with him acting like a bratty princess, it also makes him happy and puts him in a good mood; and he doesn’t like sitting in bed all morning anyways so you don’t have to deal with it too often.

-

I actually don’t have anything to say but I feel the need to write something at the end anyways um…I’ve been thinking about my list for my top ten favorite jjba characters and I think Johnny, Gyro, and Diego would all go on there lol…I don’t think it can be easily guessed from my blog theming but my favorite character is Rohan, and my favorite antagonist is Diavolo~

[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

[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

[zeppeli-reelstallbun]

A Jury of One

part 3/? <- previous [masterlist]

[PAIRING] Gyro Zeppeli x Reader (She/Her AFAB)

[SUMMARY] The conversation shifts as you pass secrets—and vices—back and forth. Cigar in hand, you realize this might be the most personal exchange you’ve had with the Italian.

[WC] 4k

[!!!] Same as previous installments, smoking, drinking, language + light descriptions of a murder aftermath, but this is a jojos fic, so I feel like I literally can’t be more brutal or gruesome than the source material even if I tried… araki would be able to write this fanfic ez but I could NOT create the rat cube.

[AN] ahhhhhhhhhh enjoy :)

“That’s not my name.” He’d said, gaze filled with satisfaction.

You tried to tone down your reaction, but found yourself speechless instead, eyes widening as you scoffed at his admission.

“Oh come on, hit me with one of your clever little comebacks, regazza.” He teased as you sat, mouth agape.

You paused for a moment, recalling everything you knew—no, thought you knew— about Gyro Zeppeli. “So wait everything you said about-”

He cut you off, seemingly knowing where the natural train of thought would land. “No, I didn’t tell you any mistruths about that… just my given name. Still a Zeppeli.” He flashed a smile, as if to express pride in this little falsehood.

“Well then what is it?” You asked, sitting up with a newfound sense of excitement.

Gyro chuckled, eyeing your change in posture, “A secret for a secret. My turns over,” he stated matter of factly.

“Oh come on,” you let out, “that’s unfair. I'm just supposed to go on pretending like I haven’t been calling you the wrong thing this whole time?”

He just cleared his throat, taking a sip from his glass instead of answering.

You scoffed, “Fine fine, can’t make that comparison, I get it.”

“No, I just figured you wouldn’t want to owe me two,” he smirked, “You could of course just tell me yours and we can cut through the red tape.”

You sat there, puzzled. For a moment you thought he might have been speaking a different language entirely, you had no idea what he was trying to communicate. You didn’t hide the expression well either, apparently, because he instantly picked up on the nonsensical reaction.

“It’s an expression.” He explained.

You rolled your eyes. “Yeah I got that much, meaning what?”

“You know,” he gestured awkwardly, “like on the King's documents.”

You just looked at him, why would you know that?

“You know, you cut the red tape.” He continued, pantomiming scissors in his hand.

You couldn’t help but put your head in your hands as you responded, “You stupid Europeans and your customs, I thought you guys used seals for-”

“You’re getting off topic,” he cut you off.

You sighed, picking up the drink you’d neglected up until this point. Lord knows you’d need a sip, he was expecting a return on his investment, after all. “Maybe,” you answered.

“You know,” he started, waiting for you to finish sipping your drink before continuing, “I think this might be the longest exchange of words we’ve had.”

You looked away from him, playing off the awkwardness of his observation. “What a way to break the ice, right?”

He leaned forward, bringing the bottle to refill your cup. “Let’s break it some more,” he challenged, eyes glistening with something you’d never seen from him, “stop sidestepping what you owe me.”

“I’m in hiding,” you blurted out, despite yourself.

Gyro titled his head forward. “I’d assumed, based on everything you mentioned.”

You stayed silent however, if he was going low, you were going lower.

“Well?” He asked, urging you to continue.

“Oh no, a secret for a secret, Gyro. Or… not Gyro.” You teased, taking a drink of the whiskey.

He squinted at you, expression unamused.

“My turn is over.” You echoed his words smugly, gulping the liquid down.

His body language folded in on itself as if it were an unintentional side effect of being bested at his own game.

“Fine,” he snapped, taking a moment to compose himself, “I'm assuming this is something intriguing so I’ll bite; I still sleep with a teddy bear. Tell me something good and you might get my name quid pro quo. I’ll be nice.”

You couldn’t help the tone that emerged from your throat. This was a golden opportunity, after all. “Oh what a secret Gyro. I didn’t realize you were that interested in me, Zeppeli. What, does it have a name? Awww do you cradle it in your arms when you fall asleep?”

“I let you ride my horse,” he bolted upright ignoring you, dumbfounded at the realization. “I don’t let any girls ride with me, you-”

You honestly couldn’t tell if his expression of disgust was being played up or not, head slowly swiveling to gawk at you.

“You monster.” He hissed.

“Do you want me to tell you the story or not.” You glared at him, furrowing your brows with mock frustration.

He put his hands up in a ‘surrender’ position, pursing his lips while leaning back in his chair, signaling you to continue.

You took a deep breath, trying to come up with the words to breach the topic. Your eyes wandered down to the glass in front of you on the table.

“If the liquor would help you bella, by all means, don’t let me stop you.” He jabbed, eliciting another nervous laugh from your system as you indulged in the suggestion. “Though if you want something stronger…” he trailed off, head turning to the flask he’d tossed on the bed earlier.

You flicked your head in the direction of the vial, wordlessly telling him to grab the damn thing and open it while you finished the cup in front of you.

“Two years ago,” you started, wiping your mouth with your sleeve, “I woke up in the school that was giving me room and board for work. I know the concept might be too American for your spoiled foreign brain to comprehend.”

He laughed, truly laughed, before adding “Eh don’t worry about it, it’s red tape under the bridge.”

You let him chuckle at his own joke for a moment before he cut himself off, tossing you the flask. “I couldn’t help myself, continue.”

The ridges around the cap dug into your fingers as you twisted the container open, idly running your fingers over the intricate engravings on the silver metal face as you moved on with the story. “It was a home for girls,” you explained, recalling how much joy the place had given you, “I was there for about ten months at the time.”

You took a swig before continuing, only to be completely caught off guard by the burning sensation pooling at the bottom of your throat. “What the fuck is this?”

“Moonshine. You were saying?” Had he been letting it ferment since he left Italy? Whatever-

You gulped, suppressing the uncomfortable feeling that was quickly overpowered by the rush to your head.

“Warning would have been nice,” you squinted in his direction, passing the flask back to him. “I'm not suffering through a hangover alone though. Drink up while you listen.”

“I have every intention to,” he smiled, leaning in to snatch it from you. “You have me on the edge of my seat, I must say. Ever thought about professional storytelling?” He spoke with a sarcastic dryness that made you genuinely thankful for the lighthearted banter he’d allowed to calm your nerves.

“Oh shut it, I'll get to the point soon enough,” you rolled your eyes, “besides-”

You cut the thought short. How would the man even react if you’d finished that sentence? ‘You’re the first person I’ve ever told.’

“Besides?” He questioned, snapping your mind away from the thought.

“I’m trying to remember what’s important.” You covered the slip-up well, all things considered. It was normal for someone to be skittish in this type of situation, you told yourself. You didn’t need to give him the ego boost of knowing he was the first—only—person to hear this secret.

“What, am I distracting you?” He said sarcastically, bringing the flask to his lips.

You rolled your eyes, moving on. “One of the girls in my care,” you paused, choosing instead to explain the setting further, “I gave grammar lessons to all the students but had a group under my guidance for housing, as did the other instructors who handled different subjects. That's the way the structure worked.”

“I think I get it,” he acknowledged with another sip of his drink, allowing you to continue.

“I woke up one morning and,” you took a deep breath, this was it, “one of my students had been killed in the night and-”

The water was back in your eyes, you’d noticed, and you’d opted to end your sentence early to avoid choking back embarrassing tears. You held your hand out, asking for another drink.

He couldn’t deny your request, eyes locked with yours as he studied your expression.

“And you found her?” He asked gently, not trying to put the words in your mouth, instead attempting to lead you back to a semblance of normal conversation. It was asked with a hint of kindness and understanding, something you rarely heard out of Gyro.

You nodded slowly, unattached, with a single pathetic sniffle as you recalled the lifeless expression on one of your most outspoken students; she had been mangled in a pool of her own blood, the thick smell of death overwhelming every other aspect of the memory.

It seemed trivial, crying to an executioner of all people about the misfortune of death, but it was about to become unavoidable, it seemed.

“She couldn’t have been older than twelve,” you admitted, “and I knew it was my fault to some degree, I know I should have seen something or locked a door better or,”

He cut you off, grabbing the hand you’d let rest on the table. He held it with both of his own, seriousness washing over him as he forced you to look him in the eye at the new sensation. “I don’t think a bad person would worry about what they could have done.” He started, tilting his head toward you. “And good people often find themselves picking up the slack for what bad people invoke.”

You nodded sheepishly, thanking him as you wiped the tear from your cheek. “What is that, some old proverb?” You joked, voice still fragile with emotion.

“No,” he smiled, “Proverbs are typically shorter.”

You scoffed at him, taking the chance to compose yourself and try again. “I guess what I was trying to say,” you continued with a small roll of your eyes, “I would have completely understood my termination.”

He nodded, encouraging you to continue.

You looked him in the eye once more, the story finally reaching its conclusion. After a heavy moment of silence, you spoke of its ending. “The murder weapon was found in my sleeping quarters.”

That was it, you remembered, that was all it took for the chaos to ensue. The initial moments following your indictment were still a blur, even after two years now, but you remembered the feeling of unadulterated terror all too well. It was beginning to creep up on you again now, sitting in an inn in the middle of nowhere, miles away from where the story even took place.

As your breathing accelerated, Gyro said nothing. His expression revealed nothing. You silently made a note to yourself not to gable with the man in front of you, that was a poker face if you’d ever seen one. After taking another glance at the table, you pulled your hand back, acutely aware of the fact that he hadn’t let go of you since that moment of reassurance.

“And then?” He asked, expression unchanged.

“I think you’re smart enough to work out the rest, Gyro.” You said, finally taking another swig from the flask.

He let you sit for a moment, allowing the uncomfortable silence in the room to linger for a couple seconds too long.

“Fuck,” He said, leaning back in the chair, “I don’t-”

You cut him off, still too uncomfortable with conversations on the topic to hear what he had to say. “Don’t say anything then.”

He looked you in the eyes with a disappointed sigh, and once again reached his hand out to ask for the flask. You swished the liquid around before handing it back, estimating that it was a little more than half full now. “What I was going to say,” he muttered, “Is that I don’t need to tell anyone. It’s not my—I guess what I mean to say is that it doesn't affect me. I mean, it does affect me but not-”

“Thank you, Gyro.” You said, voice more worn down than expected. You had the feeling he would have awkwardly rambled for minutes if you didnt stop him.

“‘Anything else I tell you is sworn to secrecy,’ after all.” He said with a deep breath, “I understand. Why you did it. The disguise, I mean.”

“Might as well get the benefits of being a man if I have to conceal myself anyway.” You shrugged, it was the best you could do to turn the odds in your favor, and you had little to no regrets on that aspect of the lie.

He laughed, bringing his fingers to his lips in an imitation locking motion, “Secrets safe with me… at least for the next two checkpoints that is.” He grinned.

You felt the pit return to your stomach as the realization dawned on you; this was far from over. The initial annoyance you felt from Gyros confrontation immediately turned to gratitude, now you would have to initiate the revelation of the truth. How would you even begin? How could you break the news to Johnny, especially now, knowing he wouldn’t be the first to find out? A lingering thought in the back of your head had been craving letting him in for a while now… but once again, Gyro had to be there to ruin it. Should you tell Johnny about his confrontation? How he had to practically beg you to tell the kid? Or worse, would Gyro decide to tell him that little detail? Would he hold this secret over your friendship with the American, as if to say ‘how much of a friend can she really be if I'm the only reason you know this?’

“You don't need to figure out how to do it today,” the man across from you said after studying your face. How he managed to be so accurate with your internal dialogue, you had no idea. Had he already become so familiar with your expressions that the guesswork was eliminated completely? Surely not, he’d only seen your face in its entirety for the better part of an hour. Maybe you really were just an open book with your heart on your sleeve. Then again, maybe the situation was simply that predictable. Perhaps you were reading too far into the implications of things.

09”v (a/n: cat decided he wanted to contribute to the fic, maybe he knows something we don't. not deleting.)

“I know,” you replied, “just can’t even begin to think about…” you let your voice trail off as the room began to feel heavy, but maybe the alcohol was at fault for that sensation.

“Would you like me to do it for you?” He suggested after a moment. Though this was the furthest thing you wanted from him, you picked up on the genuine nature of its proposition. He wasn’t snarky about it, it seemed as if he truly were offering to take some of the weight of your shoulders.

But you knew this was your burden to bear.

That’s why you didn’t hesitate to shake your head, “He deserves to hear it from me.”

Gyro nodded, satisfied with your answer. “He does.” He replied shortly, and you swallowed your pride at his tone. Thankfully, he decided to return the flask to your hands as soon as the feeling settled.

You didn’t know what else to say to him, silence hanging over the room once again as you drank until you could feel your stomach ignite. The Italian relit the half burnt cigar, though it had been sitting long enough to make you question his standards—you would have given him another had he just asked.

The quiet became comforting after its initial introduction, the two of you simply let the conversation settle as you fiddled with your travel bag, sorting through your trail resources. After a few turns of swapping vices back and forth, it had begun to feel as though the evening reached its natural conclusion. Gyro even seemed to be getting ready to check out entirely, based on the way he usually acted before falling victim to slumber.

That's when you remembered something else about the man.

“Gyro?” You asked, breaking the longest stretch of silence of the night.

He hummed, looking up as if you broke him from deep thought.

You smiled softly, smugly, even. “I recall you saying something about quid pro quo?”

He returned the grin in an instant, “Well that depends.”

You swished the flask in your hand once again, nearly empty. “On what?”

“Do you think you’ve given me a secret of equal value?” The teasing look was back on his face, one that knew he was pushing the line… as if you hadn’t just admitted to pedicide allegations.

“I think we both know the answer to that.” You laughed, taking one final sip. “Rest is yours.”

“Oh come on,” he pleaded one last time as he passed your cigar back in exchange, “let's make it a name for a name?”

“You aren’t on the run, last I checked,” you said almost patronizingly, “your name doesn't have the same power as mine.”

He finished what remained of the liquor, setting the container down aggressively on the table without slamming it. “You’re a fool if you think there’s no power in my name.” He said smoothly. “Besides, it's about the principal.”

The swiftness in his response combined with the implication of the words sent a shiver down your spine, but you threw the feeling under the rug as soon as you felt it start. It was enough to get you to drop it, however.

“Then I guess that concludes a secret for a secret.” You shrugged, satisfied with the sense of anonymity you still maintained, despite the alcohol inside you.

He cocked his head, “Unless you’d be open to sharing something else, it would seem so.”

“There’s not enough liquid in the flask to tempt me that far, Gyro.” You teased, brushing your hair away from your face.

The silence was back, awkward as always, and you noticed a new—more skittish—personality start to emerge from Gyro as he looked around the room.

“I’m um,” he started, clearing his throat, “I think I’m gonna tell Johnny we got into a fight.”

The intoxication wasn’t helping, you looked at him with confusion for what felt like the hundredth time that night.

“So uh,” he gestured vaguely around the room, towards the single bed you sat on, “you know.”

What? He didn't have the balls to say ‘so you don't have to share a room with me?’ Surprising.

“Thank you,” you said regardless, grateful that you wouldn’t be forced into his proximity after everything. It was an unspoken understanding, you unfortunately realized. You both were proceeding knowing this would be too intimate, especially now.

He stood up, and you followed as a form of courtesy. The least you could do was walk him out, it beat awkwardly laying in the bed as he made his departure, after all.

Gyro had one foot out of the door when you called his name once again, grabbing his attention back towards the cozy room as you closed the distance, metal cooling your fingertips.

“Don’t forget this,” you said, passing him the flask he’d almost left behind. Bag in hand, he let the door close as he moved back into the space, grumbling his thanks and setting his belongings down to put the item away.

As he stood in front of you, carefully arranging the possessions in the pack, you had an intrusive thought. More dangerous than that though, it was one with enough leeway to make it seem like a smart thing to say out loud. “My name,” you started, causing his head to snap up. “I might not be ready to tell you that yet. However-” you let the last word stretch for emphasis as he leaned against the doorframe, intrigued.

His head tilted forward, listening for more. “The month the crime took place… it was August.” You admitted, indulging him in one final detail.

The look of amusement on his face did not go unnoticed as he pieced the information together. “I bet you think you’re clever for that.” He laughed, closing his eyes and shaking his head.

“Insulant ass namesake,” He continued, allowing himself to chuckle again, “And I suppose you’re expecting mine in return for that sliver of knowledge?”

“Oh, I'm not interested in your name.” You said immediately, a smug smile returning as you mirrored his body language, leaning on the canopy style bedpost just a few feet in front of him.

At first he just sat there, face showing that he hadn’t picked up on the meaning of your words. Then, piece by piece, you watched as the realization dawned on him, and the smile instantly dropped to an expression of complete apathy.

Another sigh. A look of pure defeat. Two or three audible groans of annoyance.

A heavy ‘thud’ reverberated in the air as his knapsack landed on the table, and Gyro wasted no time rustling through it once again. “She doesn't have a name,” he started.

“She?” You teased, interjecting.

“Shut it.” He grumbled, cutting off his train of thought. His hands dug through his belongings, taking the occasional item out of the bag as he finished the sentence. “I’ll prove I wasn’t lying about it, though. If that’ll satisfy your insatiable greed.”

You scoffed, “Insatiable? Huh? Four syllabus, thats a big word for you.”

He said nothing.

“I'll take it.” You finished.

“You tell no one.” He continued insistently, voice more tight than you’d expected.

When you neglected to acknowledge him, his arm halted in the bag as he locked eyes with you, “I'm gonna need verbal confirmation on that one, stronza*.”

“Secret’s safe with me,” you promised dryly, ‘locking your lips’ in the same way he had earlier.

He huffed again, defeated, as he pulled the small bundle of fur out of his bag. He looked away from you as he tossed the object in your general direction.

The smile that found itself on your face was overwhelming. “You didn't mention she was pink!” You exclaimed, enjoying the embarrassment you had complete control over as you examined the teddy bear resting in your hands.

“You didn't mention a lot of things,” he snapped before stopping, “Sorry.”

You just snorted, handing the bear back to him after a few moments of looking it over and giggling uncontrollably. It was old, you’d realized, the stitching showing significant signs of wear. As you turned it over in your hands, you’d felt something come to the forefront of your mind: This was an incredibly personal part of Gyro, despite how much he might be acting otherwise. After all, he wouldn’t have lugged it this far if that weren't the case. Despite how nonchalantly he had thrown it, despite how embarrassed of its existence he was, this was something close to Gyro Zeppeli’s heart. And he had let you hold it in your hands, even if just for a second.

He snapped you out of the thought, picking his back back up and slinging it over his shoulder. “You feel better?” He asked, hand on the doorknob.

You nodded, “Worse, in a lot of ways, but yeah, I do.”

“Figured I could at least ease your nerves about the pseudonym,” He said, turning on his heels to exit before looking over his shoulder and adding, “Goodnight, not August.”

You grinned as he began to close the door, ready to pass out. “Goodnight, not Gyro.”

The door announced his departure with a heavy ‘click,’ and your eyes were closed as soon as your head hit the pillow.

*google translate turns stranza into ‘bitch’ (cagna) even though stranza is just the feminine form of ‘asshole’ (stronzo) and I just needed to address that asshole is the correct translation here. bbg gyro would never call you the b word in this scenario, homie might be a misogynist but he IS a gentleman first. As always, I do NOT know Italian, monolinguistic spoiled American here.

AN: That's the end of the first thematic part of this story, I guess! I’ve got a few thoughts for moving things forward, esp some johnny and diego self indulgence, so I don't have any plans on stopping just yet. Any ideas/comments/critiques are more than welcome!! Also, I love learning random etymology when writing. I literally just wrote the ‘red tape’ expression out of habit, questioning if the phrase had even taken off by 1890, only to find out that it's been around since old Spain! So yeah, it makes perfect sense to be used in this way, I loved getting to write around that discovery!

read other works and progress announcements on my masterlist !!

[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