zhonglisemptywallet - Tumblr blog

zhonglisemptywallet · 5 months ago

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carino

[giorno giovanna/reader]

word count: 6.9k

tags: fem reader, NSFW (minors do not interact), giorno being smitten with you, fingering, teasing, giorno is older than you by about 10 years, sappy sweet sex for the birthday boy. giorno is charming but he’s also a bit of an intense weirdo and I wish we would talk about that more

It occurs to you, as your shoulder is clipped for the third time this night and you almost spill your drink again, that you should learn to get more comfortable with saying the word no.

No, Chiara, I don’t want to go clubbing with you tonight. No, I’m tired and I’ve got work in the morning and I’m really not that thrilled at the thought of spending my Sunday night surrounded by people several tax brackets above me.

Ah, but as your drink sloshes in your glass and you bite back a sharp fuck, Chiara leans against you and laughs wholeheartedly, and you remember why you can’t ever seem to deny her anything. For all the trouble she gets you into, she’s your friend.

And she’s got a credit card with her dad’s name on it that she whips out every time she drags you to these upscale venues. That certainly helps.

“God, your clumsy tonight,” she laughs. “I told you not to wear those shoes.”

“What, and ruin this outfit with my sneakers?” you say, gesturing to your dress and heels. Around you people mingle and dance, wearing clothes from brands you see in fashion magazines. And here you are among them, in your bargain rack best.

“True,” Chiara concedes. “Well. At least you look pretty.”

Before you can thank her, her eyes blow wide and her shoulders go rigid as she catches sight of something behind you.

“Oh, god,” she says with dread, and you follow her line of sight to see none other than her father, seated at a table on the balcony overlooking the floor. She gasps.

“Oh, god,” she says, with even more dread, as her father catches sight of her and waves her over. She whips around to face you.

“Shit. I didn’t know he was going to be here,” she whispers.

“I mean, I guess old men are allowed to have fun, too,” you tease.

“No,” she hisses. “That’s not what he’s here for. Don’t you see who he’s sitting with?”

You peer over her shoulder to look at his table again. Through the crowd you can just make out bits and pieces of men in fine suits, a man in a bright red hat, and…someone else. Someone who certainly stands out from the rest with his long blonde curls and the low cut of his pink suit. The set of his shoulders and the hard line of his gaze as he converses with the man in the hat communicates clearly that he is someone important. Someone who’s used to being treated as important.

“The blonde?” you ask.

“The blonde?” Chiara repeats, incredulous. “The blonde? You don’t know who that is?”

You tilt your head at her. “Uhm, should I?”

She stares at you for a moment, thinking.

“Right,” she says. “I forget that you’re not…well. I guess you wouldn’t know. Just, uh, be polite. Really polite. Like you’re talking to the president.”

She takes your hand and begins to tug you to the stairs.

“Sorry, what?” you hiss. “Who’s up there?”

“It doesn’t matter,” she says quickly. “Don’t worry about it, we’ll just go up and say hi to my dad and leave.”

“Don’t worry about it?” you argue as she drags you up the stairs. “You can’t make a huge deal out of it and then tell me not to-“ your voice trails off as you realize you’re coming within earshot of the table, and Chiara’s face breaks into a grin as her father waves the both of you over.

“Ah, mia principessa,” he greets her as she leans over his chair to kiss his cheek. “How fortunate to see you here. You never visit your poor father these days.”

“Papá, I told you I’ve been busy,” Chiara groans.

Her father says your name warmly, and offers his hand for you to take. In the few times you’ve met him, Signore Alessi has only ever been kind to you. “A pleasure to see you, as always. I trust you’re keeping my daughter in line?”

“Trying to,” you say, letting him clasp your hand in his. “You know how it goes.”

“Indeed I do,” he says, and motions to two men who immediately pull out a chair for each of you.

“Oh, we don’t want to interrupt,” Chiara says, and tries to wave one of the men away.

“Nonsense,” her father replies. “I was just telling Don Giovanna about you, anyway.”

Chiara laughs nervously and takes her seat. You follow suit.

The seat you’re offered places you next to Chiara, and across from the man with the red hat. At the head of table, beside him, is who you assume is Don Giovanna.

“He had only the best to say of you,” Don Giovanna says with a low smile. Signore Alessi couldn’t look more pleased, and it occurs to you that this man, although younger than him, is clearly the one with the most influence at this table. The honorific title of Don only confirms that he’s someone of great social standing here. Your gut twists uncomfortably with anxiety; Chiara really has brought you out of your league with this one.

“Your father tells me you’re studying sociology?” Don Giovanna continues.

“Ah, yes,” Chiara stutters quickly.

“What would you like to do with it?”

“Social work,” she answers.

Don Giovanna nods his head. “That’s an admirable goal,” he says. “We could certainly use more compassionate workers in the social services.”

And because Chiara is apparently uncomfortable with the amount of attention on her, and because you’re the most convenient victim, she says, “thank you, Don Giovanna, but really I only chose to do it because of my friend.”

She motions to you, and the Don’s eyes, and every other pair of eyes at the table, move to watch you.

“She’s always there for me, even when I don’t deserve it, and she’s the kindest person I know. I just want to be able to become that kind of person for others.”

You think you could cry at hearing such genuine praise, if you couldn’t feel Chiara nudging your heel under the table to shake you out of your headspace. The table full of important men is awaiting your response (and, conveniently, no longer pinning that attention on Chiara).

You don’t know what to say. How do you even respond to such high praise? You don’t know what to say but you need to say something. Anything.

“Oh, uhm. Fuck.”

Ok, well. Anything but that.

The table bursts into laughter. Chiara covers her mouth and snorts as her father claps his hand to his chest in a full belly laugh. The man in the hat cracks the first grin you’ve seen from him yet, and even the Don is stifling a low smile. You don’t know whether you should be relieved or even more embarrassed.

“(Y/n) has been a wonderful friend to my girl,” Signore Alessi says, saving you from having to recover yourself with a response. “I’m grateful that my daughter has such a good influence in her life.”

As Signore Alessi goes on, gracefully rescuing you with a change of subject, the man in the hat catches your attention.

“Is that an accent I’m hearing?” he asks.

“That obvious?” you say sheepishly. “Yeah, I moved here a couple of years ago.”

“Your Italian’s very good, but I can always clock a foreigner,” he says. “And I’m also guessing this isn’t the type of place you usually hang out in.”

God, you’re going to kick Chiara for this later.

“Uh, no. I mean yes, you’re right. This wasn’t exactly my first choice for tonight.”

“Ooh, well don’t tell my boss that,” he says with a teasing lilt, nodding his head towards Don Giovanna, who is listening attentively to whatever story Signore Alessi is in the middle of. “He kind of owns the place.”

Beside you, Chiara sighs. “What she means to say is that she’s a homebody who doesn’t know how to party. Of course the club is lovely.” She kicks you under the table.

“Hey, no shame in that,” the man says. “Between you and me, I’d rather be at home with a beer right now, but duty calls.”

“Oh, are you in real estate like Signore Alessi?” you ask. The man stares at you for a beat. Chiara shifts in her seat beside you.

“Yeah,” he answers at last. “Real estate. We were just meeting about uh, property and shit, you know how it goes. Boring stuff.”

As Chiara is folding and unfolding her hands, you notice that her eyes have flicked to the Don, and you also notice, in your peripheral, that the Don’s eyes have flicked to you. There’s a sense that something is going over your head here, like being on the outside of a joke everyone else is in on, but as soon as the feeling appears the man in front of you is speaking again.

“Anyway! I haven’t even introduced myself. The name’s Mista.”

You offer him your own name, and he orders drinks for you and Chiara, insisting that you stay and chat with everyone. Their meeting has wrapped up anyway, and he would never turn down the company of two pretty girls, he explains.

Mista is easy to talk to. Easygoing and genial, he quickly has you relaxing into a friendly conversation. Your anxiety from before melts away as you tell him about your home country, about the ridiculous situations Chiara has dragged you into (which she responds to with a groan), and as he answers with a laugh and a funny story of his own. You are so wrapped up in conversation with them, that you pay no attention to the eyes watching you quietly from further down the table.

You’re laughing with a half-empty glass in your hand when Chiara tugs on your wrist and excuses you both from the table for a moment.

“Oh my god. He’s checking you out,” she whispers as she pulls you into the bathroom.

“Mista?” you ask, feeling your cheeks warm. “I mean, he’s sweet but-“

“No!” she interrupts, and leans into your space conspiratorially. “The Don.”

Hah. The Don.

“Ok. Sure,” you say.

“I’m not joking,” she says. “God, you’re so clueless. He’s been watching you this whole time.”

“I haven’t even spoken to him,” you say. “And he’s like, 10 years older than us, at least. And rich.”

“And he was watching you,” Chiara huffs. She says your name lowly and levels you with a stare. “I know these things. Remember the last time I caught someone checking you out?”

“The guy who showed up to our date with an ankle monitor on?”

“God, that’s not the point. I told you he was flirting and I was right.”

Sensing that this conversation is not about to go anywhere else, you concede with a halfhearted “ok” and push the door open to leave.

You push the door open into the Don’s face.

He catches it smoothly with one large hand and doesn’t flinch as you squawk.

“Sorry! I didn’t see you there,” you squeak.

“No worries, Signorina,” he says. In the small space of the hallway, you notice that his voice is rich, masculine, smooth. “Is everything all right? Your friend seemed to be in a hurry.” Has he sounded like that all night? Has he been looking at you like that all night?

The hallway to the bathrooms is small, and the the placement of his hand on the door has his arm and body hovering over you in a way that’s almost…intimate. You notice, not for the first time that night, that Giorno is handsome. Very handsome. You decide that you’re reading into things too much because this isn’t a romance novel and things like this don’t happen to you, of course.

“Everything’s fine,” you answer, looking over your shoulder to see that the bathroom behind you is empty, which means that Chiara has hidden herself in one of the stalls.

“My friend was just”-you think of telling him she has a headache, and then remember how embarrassed she made you earlier-“throwing up. A lot. I told her she should have eaten something before coming out and drinking.”

Giorno’s brows pinch in concern. “Ah. Is she…all right? I would be happy to call someone over to check on her.”

“Nope,” you answer. “She’ll be fine as soon as she gets it all out. Last time we went out clubbing it took-“

“Actually!” Chiara’s voice rings out behind you, the stall door flying open with a thud. “I think I’m sick, because I can handle my alcohol just fine, actually, so I’d like you to take me home now, please?”

She sidles up beside you and pinches your side, politely excusing the both of you from the Don as you say “ow.” He makes a face somewhere between quizzical and amused as you’re dragged back to the table for Chiara to kiss her father on the cheek and tell him goodbye.

“So good to see you, principessa,” he says, and turns to you. “Tell her to come visit her poor father sometime, and bring yourself along while you’re at it.”

You smile. “Of course, Signore.”

It seems that the rest of the table is ready to call it a night as well, as Signore Alessi and the others stand and begin to give their goodbyes. You down the rest of your drink quickly, finishing just in time to see that Don Giovanna has come back to the balcony—and that his eyes are on you again, for the second before Signore Alessi is calling for his attention.

You decide that you should leave before he can ask about your poor, sick friend again.

The wash of cool air is more than welcome as you step out of the building and into the street. Your skin must have been flushed for half the night, between the embarrassment, the laughter, the drinks, and…whatever that was with the Don.

“Thank god that’s over,” Chiara sighs beside you, whipping her phone out to call an Uber. “I’m remembering why I always skipped out on dad’s dinners when I was a kid.”

“Oh, I didn’t think they were that bad,” you say. “Especially for a bunch of middle aged-“

The door swings open behind you, and Mista strolls out alone.

“Good, I caught you before you took off,” he says. He nods at Chiara and then looks at you expectantly. “I’ve got a little favor to ask. Could I get your number?”

Oh. Oh no. Mista seems sweet, really, but-

“For my boss.”

Oh. Oh.

Over Mista’s shoulder, you see Chiara’s mouth fall open as she holds herself back from giving you an immediate “I told you so.”

Don Giovanna wants your number. The Don wants your number. You have to be misreading this. Maybe he’s just got an open position for an intern that needs filling. Maybe he’s just very polite and wants to check up on your supposedly nauseous friend later.

“He would’ve asked you himself, but he got a little wrapped up, as you saw,” Mista goes on with a laugh.

“Yeah, sure,” you say before your brain can catch up to your mouth. You enter your number into a phone Mista hands you, and he turns to enter the building again as your Uber pulls up to the curb.

“He’ll probably call you sometime tomorrow,” he says with a wave. “Great meeting you guys. Ciao!”

You watch the door click shut behind him. Chiara is going to be so obnoxious about this. You dive into the car before you can see how smug her expression is and look very pointedly out the window. Incredibly, she says nothing as the driver pulls up to her apartment just a few blocks away, and the both of you trudge through the lobby, into the elevator, and through the doors to her apartment. You’re tugging your dress over your head to change into your pajamas when she finally speaks.

“I’m booking you an appointment with my Brazilian waxer,” she says.

You would smack her with a pillow, if you didn’t know that she was also offering to pay. And with the way your nerves are already beginning to act up, it’s an offer you may want to take her up on.

—

The next weekend, Chiara comes over to help you get ready for your date by laying in bed and watching while you put your makeup on and offering such useful suggestions as “are you sure you don’t want my push-up bra? I would want a push-up bra.”

You don’t bother to respond, because you think your boobs look fine in the mirror, and because you still can’t make yourself believe this date will end up in that direction anyway. Giorno, as he asked you to call him, had been nothing but polite over his texts to you. Brief, formal, but polite.

He did specifically call it a date, which defeated your theory of a job offering, but it all still feels so…unbelievable.

“I still can’t believe this is happening,” Chiara says, as if reading your thoughts. “I mean, of course he’s into you, because you’re beautiful and smart and nice, but-“ she sighs. “God. You have no idea how big this guy is. This is so insane.”

“What, is he the prime minister’s landlord?” you laugh. “I can handle some big-shot real estate mogul.”

Chiara looks at you the way she might look at a dog with three legs. Sweet, but pitiful.

“You are so, so clueless,” she says. “You should probably stay that way.”

You don’t have time to wonder what the fuck she’s talking about, because your phone pings with a text from Giorno. He’s pulling up to your apartment complex.

—

It’s drizzling as you push past the doors of your apartment building. You didn’t think to bring an umbrella down, you hope this doesn’t smudge your makeup—and the worms have already begun to wriggle onto the sidewalk.

Poor things. The skies will be cleared up and the sidewalk will be bone dry again in just a couple of hours. They don’t even know that they’re about to die slowly and horribly.

It’s just as you’re picking up the last one that you hear a car pull up to the curb behind you. You pray that it isn’t Giorno, come just in time to see you crouched in a puddle with a worm between your fingers, but you can’t imagine that anyone else in this grubby apartment block would be driving a Ferrari. He steps out just as you’re placing the little guy into a soft patch of grass.

“Buonasera,” he greets you as he takes in the scene. Your hands are dripping with mud water and worm slime, and suddenly you’re very worried about getting dirt in this car that probably cost more than you’ll make in years.

“Buonasera,” you say. “I was just, um. The worms-“ you trail off as you realize you don’t have an explanation that doesn’t make you feel a bit silly, but Giorno’s face breaks into a soft smile. He produces a handkerchief from his pocket and takes your dirty hands in his.

“I can see that,” he says, rubbing your hands gently between the fabric, brushing it between each finger and over every knuckle. His hands are warm. Your skin is clammy. “I’m sure they appreciate the effort.”

He opens the passenger door for you and escorts you in with a hand on your arm, and your cheeks begin to warm with that familiar heat.

The restaurant he brings you to is easily the nicest you’ve ever stepped foot in. Certainly nicer than the boutique cafes Chiara (and her dad’s credit card) often treat you to. Giorno hands his keys to a valet and leads you up the steps with a hand on your lower back, through a set of heavy double doors and into the lavish building. Elegant decor, low lighting, floor to ceiling windows overlooking Naple’s skyline and the bay…this definitely has ankle monitor guy beat. Regretfully, you do have to give this one to Chiara.

The hostess looks up from her station as you approach, and upon seeing Giorno, immediately gathers a couple of menus and motions for the two of you to follow her. He must be a regular here, you think, or maybe it has something to do with what Chiara was telling you earlier. Something about Giorno being a bigger deal than you understood.

The hostess seats you at a table in the far corner of the restaurant. Quiet, secluded from the other patrons. Giorno pulls your seat out for you and takes the jacket from your shoulders. He orders a bottle of wine with a name you don’t recognize and the hostess leaves you with your menus.

“I hope the restaurant is to your liking,” he says. He must be joking. Everything about it is beautiful, if not a little intimidating for someone unused to such luxury.

“It’s very pretty,” you say, looking out across the bay. The sun is beginning to set, casting vivid red hues across the seawater.

“Do you like to watch the ocean?” he asks.

“From a distance, absolutely,” you answer. “Up close it gets a little…scarier.”

“Scary? Are you not a fan of swimming, then?”

“Oh no,” you say quickly. “I saw Jaws when I was a kid. Never been the same since.”

The corner of Giorno’s mouth quirks. “I can assure you no one here has died in a shark attack for a very long time.”

The waiter returns to set a wine bottle and two glasses on the table, pouring it out for both of you. Giorno takes a slow sip of his and you pick up your glass to do the same. You aren’t usually one for wine, but you’re not about to offend him by rejecting it. You take a sip and try not to make a face that says “ew.”

“Do you enjoy wine?” Giorno asks.

“Yes,” you lie. “Your friend said you own the club we met at?” A smooth change of subject.

“I do, as well as a couple of others in the city. My business partners and I often hold meetings there, as you saw.”

“Meeting about uh, real estate things?” God, you’re bad at this.

Giorno smiles. “No, not quite. We were actually discussing an upcoming charity fundraiser.”

“That’s nice. Chiara always said her dad’s coworkers were-“ you realize you’re about to put your foot in your mouth yet again, and change course. “-great people. Really generous.”

Giorno takes another slow sip from his glass, and fixes you with a look you can’t quite place. “That very kind of her, but things haven’t always been this way. I do try to keep them in line now that I’m in the business.”

“What charity are you fundraising for?”

“A few,” Giorno begins. “Most of them supporting children and families affected by substance abuse.”

Ah, Naple’s infamous addiction issues. From what you’ve heard, the problem has lessened in severity since the last decade, but an issue with roots so deep can only be uprooted so quickly.

“I’ve heard about the addiction rates here,” you say. “Is it something you’re passionate about?”

“Absolutely,” Giorno says, and his gaze becomes intense, even more so than it always seems to be. “You could say that my life’s work has revolved around it. To threaten the well-being of these people, to pollute these streets with drugs-“ he turns to gaze through the window, at the sidewalks and people below. “-it’s unforgivable.”

You aren’t sure how to respond to such a speech, at first. Giorno’s intensity is brilliant to the point of intimidation, firm and absolute in this conviction he’s shared with you. You realize that this is the same assuredness you’ve seen in him since you met him that night, in every small interaction you witnessed (and shared) with him. In the way he’s looked at you, even after only just having met you. An absolute certainty in what he wants, and the absolute confidence to pursue it. You have no doubt, somehow, that he’ll have it.

“I like that,” you say simply. “I mean, you must be very proud. It seems like all your work is paying off.”

“I am,” he says, with that intense gaze fixed on you. Bright. Brilliant. “Thank you. You would be surprised at how much…resistance my work has been met with. It isn’t something one receives thanks for often, in my circle.”

You can’t imagine an apparent philanthropist being so deprived of something as basic as genuine praise, but the look on his face is achingly close to something you’ve seen before. In kids who were never told enough how good they were, in quiet classmates who’s work never seemed to be noticed. It’s uncomfortable, almost, to see pieces of those people in the man in front of you. It’s intimate, too intimate, and Giorno is still pinning you with that look, so you decide now is a good time to veer the conversation onto a different course.

“Well, if your whole real estate business doesn’t work out, I guess you could always ask the local mafia for a job,” you say.

Giorno’s mouth quirks again. “Oh?”

“My friend says they’ve really cracked down on the drug trade around here,” you explain. “I bet you’d fit right in. Be like a real Dark Knight type of situation.”

“Was Batman in the mafia?” Giorno says, matching your playful tone.

“Uh, maybe? He broke a lot of laws, right? So basically the same thing.”

“Mm,” Giorno hums. “Yes, I suppose it is.” Something in his smile is unplaceable to you. It reminds you of the night in the club, when you were pricked with the feeling that something was going over your head. That Giorno is in on some private joke you’re oblivious to.

“But if I was spending my evenings fighting crime,” he begins. “I wouldn’t have had the pleasure of meeting you.”

Warmth spreads through your cheeks, now from more than just the wine. Giorno is easy to talk to. Charming, witty, polite. The food he orders for you is delicious, of course, and you don’t realize until your plate is cleared and the sun has set that Giorno has managed to keep you talking for the entire evening. To think that you had been so anxious about this date, and just a few hours later here you are, chatting like you’ve known him for months.

When Giorno leads you outside the moon has already begun to rise, cool night air brushing past your flushed skin. His hand is warm on your lower back as he escorts you down the steps, firm under your fingers as he helps you into the car. When he slides into the driver’s seat and his own door clicks shut beside him, the bustle of the street and chatter of the crowds melts away, an intimate silence filling the small space of the car.

“Have I told you that you look beautiful tonight?” Giorno says, his eyes dipping briefly along the curves of your face, your neck, your…they flit back up to meet yours. Your skin prickles.

“Mm, maybe a couple of times,” you say.

Headlights from passing cars bathe Giorno in fleeting streaks of light, glinting off the rings on his fingers, illuminating his face and the skin of his chest where his unbuttoned shirt parts. He brushes his fingers over the soft skin of your hand, watching your face intently, as if testing the waters for your reaction. You curl your fingers into his, feeling the warmth of his palms, the slick metal of his rings.

“Thank you for taking me out,” you say softly.

“The pleasure was mine,” he says, his thumb making slow drags across your knuckles. “You’ll have to allow me the chance to do it again. After all, I need to redeem myself with a drink you actually enjoy.”

You huff sharply at the mischievous edge to his words. “You noticed.”

He smiles, teasing as his fingers brush up and down yours. “It was very kind of you to try to spare my ego, but I did notice.”

“And you were just going to let me suffer through it?” your smile back.

Giorno leans into your space, your twined hands close enough to his face that you can feel his breath on your fingers.

“Do you know that you scrunch your face when you drink something bitter?” he says. You’re suddenly very aware of the drool pooling underneath your tongue, and swallow hard. “It’s very endearing, (y/n).”

You can’t seem to push a response through your lips. The two of you sit in a charged silence, watching each other, feeling the warmth radiating from his body.

He says your name in a low voice. “May I kiss you?”

Oh, he may. He absolutely may.

“Yes,” you breathe. His hand untangles from yours to slide up your shoulder, your neck, under the line of your jaw and into the thick of your hair. His fingers curl into it there, the pressure on your scalp tilting your head back and pulling a sharp exhale from your lips.

“Can I ask you a question?” he says, his breathe fanning across your mouth. You answer with an “mm,” too woozy with anticipation to put together anything more.

“How long have you wanted me to do it?”

Oh, he is cocky. Most frustrating is the fact that you can’t say it’s undeserved; Giorno is gorgeous, and charming, and right in front you, and you do want it. You have wanted it since…you think back to the first time you felt this familiar heat around him.

“Since you cornered me. Against the bathroom door in the club,” you tell him.

From this close, you can see the tiniest pull of a smile on his lips. “Hm,” he says. “That long?”

He’s finally worn out your patience. Your hands fly to his face, cupping the sharp lines of his jaw, threading into his hair and tugging him into you, covering his warm mouth with your own. He hums into it, returning your kiss with equal pressure, and as quickly as you’ve kissed him you realize he’s already taken back the reigns.

Giorno’s mouth works against yours slowly, surely. You cede control to him happily, letting your hands slide down the hard lines of his neck and shoulders. The fabric of his jacket is like butter under your hands, fine and delicate over his sturdy form. You nudge it to the side as your hands wander, the skin of them pressing into the bare skin of his neck where his muscles work as he takes your mouth over and over again.

His other hand presses into your waist then, encouraging you over the center console and closer to his chest. You let him pull you wherever he pleases, one hand dropping onto his leg to steady yourself as you’re dragged nearly on top of him. With the distance closed, his hand slides to wrap his entire arm around you, pulling you further into his chest, close enough for his mouth to wander down, down to your neck and the sensitive space where it meets your shoulder.

Your breathing has picked up. Enough that the window in front of you is beginning to fog, and you can feel your chest brushing up against his with every gulp of air. He runs a hand down your back in soothing strokes.

“Easy,” he coos. “I’ve got you.”

He pulls away just enough for you catch your breath, but close enough still to leave his grip in your hair and his arm around your body, making steady, steady strokes. It isn’t like you to get so worked up so quickly. But then, none of your dates before now have been…well, Giorno.

“Giorno,”you breathe. Your fingers find the skin of his shoulders again, scratching lightly them, and the sharp breath it pulls from the man pressed up against you is delicious.

“I’m here,” he says. Is his voice getting huskier? “Is there something you need?”

There is, but it isn’t something you normally ask for. Not on a first date, and certainly not from a man your hardly know.

But Giorno has made you feel nothing but safe in the short time you’ve spent with him. It’s irrational, how much you want to trust him despite practically being strangers, but you cannot deny this quality about him that just makes you feel…safe. That coaxes you gently into placing your faith in him.

He says your name again. “You don’t have to do anything you’re uncomfortable with. I can take you home now, if that’s what you want.”

But you do want it. You do want him. The hard part is asking for it. Giorno is older than you, wealthy, gorgeous, wildly successful, and a dozen other things that make insecurity coil tightly in your gut. But he watches you so patiently while you deliberate, his gentle hand making circles on your back, and to assume that he would look down on you for any of those things feels as if it would be an insult to his character.

You swallow hard. “No, I want it.”

That smile on his lips again. “Want what?”

Your head drops to his shoulder and you groan, taking a fistful of his undershirt. “Please don’t tease me like this.”

Giorno tucks his head into the space between your neck and your shoulder, his breath fanning over your ear. “Tell me exactly what you want, and I’ll give it to you.”

You whine into his shoulder and only feel a bit embarrassed at the childishness of it. “I can’t,” you tell him.

He places one of his hands into yours and you take it in your grasp. “Then show me.”

Splaying his hand out on your ribs, he waits for your guidance. You intertwine your fingers again, feeling the size of his hand under yours, the metallic edge of his rings. He squeezes your fingers back, but makes no other move. He really is going to make you ask for this.

You let out a long, shaky breath. You want this. You want him. Tentatively, you begin dragging his hand across the plane of your body. Up your ribs, just underneath the swell of your breast, where his thumb brushes curiously over the underwire of your bra. You linger there, moving his hand in short arcs under the curve of your breast, breath hitching as his thumb travels closer and closer to the stiff peak of your nipple…and then you drop your hand, dragging him away from the soft flesh.

His mouth curls into a smile against your shoulder. “Teasing me?”

You laugh breathlessly as you guide his hand over the dip in your waist. “Only since you seem to like it so much.”

His hand slides appreciatively over the meat of your hip, kneading it firmly. You follow the cut of your hipbone inward, underneath the plush of your belly, to the crease between you thigh. Blood rushes hot through your ears, making you almost dizzy with want. Anything you ask for, he said. Anything you ask, he’ll give.

The heat of his mouth attaches to your neck again, and the feeling is so wonderful against your buzzing skin that you feel your eyes flutter close. He’s encouraging you, you realize. Gently coaxing you into confidence. He wants you, too.

Inching him down, you guide his hand to brush over the mound between your hips. Your breath catches. You’ve never had to ask for this before.

You think of the men you’ve been with in times past. How they practically threw themselves at you, taking absolutely anything they could get from you, hungrily, without restraint. This is foreign. It makes you feel almost desperate with need, to be so close to having what you want, but to be so nervous to reach out for it.

Sensing your hesitation, Giorno opens his mouth and presses the wet heat of his tongue flat against your neck, dragging it up along the line of your jaw to the sensitive skin below your ear, and this time your eyes do roll back. The wet trail he leaves on your skin chills in the night air, and you moan for him.

“Che brava ragazza (what a good girl),” he praises you. “You can have it. Just ask me for it, you can have it.”

He squeezes your hand gently, reassuringly, and you don’t have the patience to be bashful anymore. You slide him down to the bunched up hem of your dress, under the fabric, and flat against your aching core. The meat of his palm is firm against your folds and he rewards you immediately with a strong grip around your pussy.

“Good, good girl,” he says, making short strokes with his whole hand up and down your center. He pulls away from your neck only to drag you into another kiss, harder than the last, and you abandon his hand against you to fist both of yours into his hair. The moan you let into his mouth is wanton, embarrassingly so for someone who’s only barely been touched. You can’t bring yourself to care. The pressure between your legs is so, so good.

Deft fingers slip under your panties and you gasp as he slides the pads of his fingers along the wet of your lips.

“All this? Already?” Giorno says airily.

“You make—fuck,” your voice clips as the pads of Giorno’s fingers dip into your entrance, dragging your slick up to the nub of your clit. “Mmmm fuck, you make me feel good.”

Giorno groans, a low rumble in his chest, and you drop your head to his shoulder as his fingers make quick circles around your clit. His pace is steady, pressure firm, as he works you closer and closer to a peak that is quickly approaching.

You take the hand still tangled in your hair and drag it to rest flat on the meat of your breast, which he kneads greedily. The temperature in the confined space of the car has risen, high enough that you can feel sweat starting to gather on your skin and dampen your clothes, but you don’t care. You might be about to squirt all over the interior of Giorno’s nice car, but you can’t bring yourself to care about that either when he’s pulling you so diligently to your climax.

“You’re so worked up,” he says, and his voice is definitely shot now. Deep. Gravelly. A little bit desperate. “Are you going to cum for me?”

You are. You are you are you are, and his fingers pick up their pace under your panties, and the hand on your breast finds the soft peak of your nipple underneath the pad of your bra and pinches, and you squeal. The pressure between your legs is hot, hot, hot.

“Yes, I’m gonna cum. Fuck, I’m gonna cum, please please please-“ You collapse into his chest, thighs shaking underneath you, and moan into the fabric of his suit as the pressure in your hips finally releases. With the arm around your waist Giorno holds you upright while you go practically boneless against him, hips stuttering into his hand as he works you through the length of your orgasm, his chest rumbling against you as he praises, “brava, brava ragazza, proprio così (good, good girl, just like that).”

As the rush begins to sizzle out, his fingers continue in their persistent slide against your clit, until you’re pushing at his hand with an “ah, ah” that has him laughing airily. The car is filled with the sound of your fluttering breaths, and of the quiet, soothing noises Giorno makes above you.

“Good thing I don’t have a night job fighting crime,” Giorno teases you.

You laugh breathlessly. “Yeah, good thing.”

You wrap your arms around his broad chest, sinking into the warmth of his body, and he envelops you in his arms. Stroking your back as you shiver, carding fingers through the tangles of your hair. As the fuzz begins to clear from your head, you feel the faintest warmth in your belly again as you realize you aren’t quite finished. Your fingers slide along the edge of his belt, playing with the buckle before he scoops your hand into his and brings it to his lips for a kiss.

“Not yet, amore,” he says. “Not here.”

Your shoulders slump with your disappointment and he laughs against your hair.

“When I fuck you,” he speaks into your ear. “I’m going to do it properly.” You shiver against him.

He lets you rest against his chest until you’ve caught your breath. “Do you have work tomorrow?” he asks.

You shake your head. “No.”

“Then come home with me,” he says with a smile and a kiss to your head. “And I’ll let you have whatever else you want.”

You pull back to look at him. Cheeks flushed. Hair tousled from the work of your fingers. The collar of his shirt pushed wide open against his chest. You want, you want, you want.

“Ok,” you answer, and press your lips to his warm cheek. The car starts with a low rumble, and you fix yourself in your seat. Your skirt is bunched around your waist, your hair a mess, your makeup smeared, no doubt. Giorno pulls away from the curb and you roll down the emptying Naples streets. “But only if I get to tease you this time.”

He meets your eyes with that look that promises absolutely nothing good. “Of course,” he says, pulling your hand to his mouth for another kiss. And another.

“Anything you want.”

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zhonglisemptywallet · 5 months ago

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All JoJo's x reader who gets scared easily

Headcannons of all the JoJos with a reader who gets scared easily.

To preface this, I think all the JoJo’s are going to be pretty protective to some degree. They all show it differently.

Jonathan Joestar

Jonathan is going to be the most protective of all the JoJo’s

If he can do absolutely anything to help you, he will.

To some extent it’s a matter of pride

Under no circumstances would he try to force you to confront your own fears

If fact, he’d do this best to keep you away from anything you fear

He would take bugs out and free them somewhere away from you.

If you’re startled by loud sounds, he’ll gently cover your ears and lead you away from the noise bothering you.

Joseph Joestar

My first thought was that he would laugh at you

I definitely think that he would love it if you got really clingy when scared.

If you went to him for comfort, he’d just melt inside

But if you’re scared of bugs and you ask him to kill one or to take it outside, he would definitely laugh

Until it came flying at him

Then he’s running way faster than you

That boy would be gone

Jotaro Kujo

So, I think he would have a hard time understanding your fears and why you’re afraid

But he would try his best, try to make sure nothing spooks you

If it’s a person you’re scared off, he’d beat them up

Is the type to be a human shield to separate you from anything that scares you

No fear, this boy would kill bugs for you.

Josuke Higashikata

He’s happy you trust him with the things you’re scared of.

If you share your fears, he’ll share his with you.

He’s among the best JoJo’s to go to for comfort

It may take him a few times to figure out the best way to comfort you. But he’s doing his best

And it shows, no one will be able to comfort you better than him. Once he’s perfected his method.

Giorno Giovanna

Giorno would be more will to try to make you face your fears

Not in a way that would hurt you

He enjoys you relying on him for comfort but he doesn’t want you to be completely dependent on him.

When you do get scared he’ll use his stand, a comforting gesture, or anything really to make you feel better.

He may not always hit the mark, but is the thought that counts.

Jolyne Kujo

If your fears can be physically fought, she is the first one to throw hands.

If it’s a person, you can bet she’ll beat them up for you.

Even if your fears can’t be physically fought, she’ll do her best to fight your fears.

She is going to want you to feel safe at all times.

I think she would be a little scared of bugs, but would do anything for you.

Would make her stand to take bugs out.

Anything to comfort you

Johnny Joestar

I think Johnny is going to be the best at physical comfort.

He would drop whatever he’s doing to comfort you. If you want to be held, he’s holding you.

I think Johnny has a lot of fears and insecurity, especially after the accident. So, he can relate to how you’re feeling.

He is the last person to judge you over a fear or insecurity.

He respects you a lot.

The two of you can work out your problems together.

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zhonglisemptywallet · 5 months ago

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Give you what you want. (Jotaro Kujo)

Sy: Maybe you shouldn’t have teased Jotaro...or maybe you should have.

Rating: 18+ (MDNI THIS IS PURE FILTH)

Word count: .6k words

Warns: Dom! Jotaro, Sub! Reader, Dirty Talk, rough sext, unprotected sex (please wrap ya willies kiddos), pet names, degradation, hairpulling, mirror sex.

a/n: I PROMISE I CAN WRITE FOR OTHER CHARACTERS BUT JOTARO JUST HAS HAD ME IN A CHOKE HOLD-

(Also this is a repost from my old blog.)

Heres My Kofi if you wanna support me!

»»————-　★　————-««

“I’m going to fucking ruin you..”

Maybe teasing your boyfriend after not seeing him for weeks was not the best option.

You had been busy with college, and with the both of you deciding to pursue your own careers, the time that you spent together was slim to none.

So the two of you planned a nice little outing between the two of you, going to the beach and enjoying each others company.

But of course you had other plans…

Your boyfriend, Jotaro Kujo, was a walking masterpiece. He looked like if he was sculpted by the damned greek gods themselves.

He was attractive, stoic and cool, a total bad boy when the two of you were in highschool. Surprisingly he found as much as an interest in you that you had in him.

Who wouldn’t want to tease him until he snapped and treated you like the little slut that you truly were.

“Who told you to look away from the fucking mirror?”

You cried out as Jotaro forced your head back so you could stare into the body length mirror that was in front of you.

His hips had set a brutal pace from the start and he was not letting up. He smirked as he watched your face morph and contort in pleasure.

“Look at how pathetic you fucking look baby..falling apart on my cock so easily..”

If Jotaro knew one thing very well, it was the fact that he knew his words were enough to set your body ablaze.

Jotaro was normally a quiet male, not much to leave him unless if was necessary.

But when you got in bed?

It was like a switch flipped and nothing but filth left his mouth.

"Such a good little slut for my cock...a mindless little cock sleeve.."

"Look at you...falling apart like I don't fuck you so good each time.."

"...you'll never be able to fuck someone ever again without thinking of my fat cock...this pussy was made for me..."

Jotaro lets out a soft groan before he pushes your head into the plush mattress, making your hips raise up and your back to go into an unholy arch.

The whole image made Jotaro smirk as he had you wrapped around his finger. He switched his pace from the hard punishing one to something slower yet hard.

“I could watch you get like this forever…I used to think you were an innocent little thing..”

He would punctuate his words by entangling one of his large hands into your hair and pulled,

“You’re just my mindless little slut? You were begging to be fucked my fat cock but look at you, can’t even get a few words out.”

You whined out at his words, your voice nearly gone as Jotaro had you here for nearly 30 minutes. When he said he was going to punish you for being a little brat down at the beach he meant it.

“F..fuck Jotaro..” You managed to get out only to earn a chuckle from the male as his hips suddenly picked up pace, his grip on your hips tightening enough that you knew for certain that was going to leave a bruise.

“Hmm?...What is it my little slut..? You’re getting close?”

You nodded as you felt tears pricking at your eyes, it would be your 3rd orgasm of the night and Jotaro only seemed to be a fucking tease about it though.

He slowed his pace up only to earn a frustrated whine from you to which he shushed.

“Ah..ah. Remember you told me to use you as i pleased…or did you forget you fucking brat..”

You yelped as Jotaro flipped you over onto your back, his toned, sweaty body on display for you and a shit eating smirk on his face.

“I’m just giving you what you want…”

He then places your legs up on his shoulders as he realigned himself with your entrance before slamming back in.

“Now shut up and take what I fucking give you slut..”

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zhonglisemptywallet · 5 months ago

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how long the jojos last during no nut november

i stole borrowed this idea from @garoujo i loved their jujutsu kaisen version of this and just KNEW i had to make my own!!!

✰nothing too crazy but it’s still kinda nsfw, mentions of sex and all that, blah blah minors dni

jonathan: december 1st - being the most innocent of the jojos he is bound to last the entire month. his sex drive is not as high as most men his age plus he always enjoys a good challenge. he asked you multiple times if you were willing to do this and once you agreed it was set in stone. the hardest part of the month is hearing you beg for his cock night after night, having to deny you for so long takes a toll on him. jojo wants nothing more than to fill you up with cock,pumping you full as you cry for more ;) both of you get this wish when the month is over

joseph: november 2nd- when he first heard the idea he was thrilled. he was convinced he could coax you into failing within the first week,breaking you down with subtle touches and deep kisses. alas this was only a plan. when he woke up the next day with a bad case of morning wood he had to relieve it one way or another. joseph tried for maybe ten minutes to ignore it but gave up as soon as he took a good look at you sleeping form. oh god how could he resist you when you look so pretty.

caesar zeppelli: november 4th- at first he was totally opposed to the challenge, thinking it only to be juvenile and crude. but when he was made aware of joseph participating he was more than willing to take part in the game. caesar liked to think he had the self control of a god, able to resist even the most beautiful of temptresses. it turns out he’s not as strong as he had once thought. all it took was the sight of you stepping out of the shower and he was out. he won’t let you bring it up around jojo though, he may have lost the competition but he still has his pride.

jotaro kujo: november 27th- oh he was so close to lasting the entire month. jotaro is able to control himself to an insane amount. it didn’t matter how much you teased him, small touches, dirty things whispered in his ear, cute little outfits jotaro held on strong. one day you dropped by his office to give him a stack of papers he forgot at home and for some reason that broke him. you were just so kind and thoughtful how could he not reward you. he took you right there on his desk, loving the way your ass bounces as he pounds into you. jojo is a bit disappointed he didn’t last the entire month but you’re quick to comfort him and praise him for how well he did.

noriaki kakyoin: november 18th- the man is a gamer at heart so you best believe he’s down to participate in a boss fight of sorts. he takes the challenge the most seriously out of all the guys. he will not give in to absolutely anything. wellll that is until you kneel down between his legs while he was in the middle of a game and gave him those eyes. he didn’t want to lose he really didn’t but fuck you were just so beautiful knelt before him. after a round or two he admitted to tapping out of the competition. he’s super chill about losing and makes up for the lost time for the rest of the month ;)

josuke higashikata: november 15th- okayasu gave him the idea and he was so excited to pitch it to you. he was always the competitive type so he was more than happy to compete. for the next two weeks he kept his distance not wanting to slip up. but alas he is still a teenage boy and he has his needs. one particular day while embracing you he felt his cock twitch and he knew that was it. next thing you knew you were being dragged into an empty closed and fucked out of your mind. despite not lasting the whole month you have to commend him for keeping it together for as long as he did.

okuyasu nijimura: november 11th- he over heard the concept of the game from a few of his fellow classmates during math and figured it was worth a try. not like he anything better going on. the first week was smooth sailing for him, he had not one impure thought the entire time. but alas he is still a teenage boy the hormones are bound to start raging eventually. it wasn’t too hard to break the boy down. you bent down to pick something up off the floor and he just couldn’t help it anymore. all it took was a few thrusts and he was done. unlike other guys his age he wasn’t embarrassed that he failed the challenge. honestly he’s kind of glad he didn’t make it. now he doesn’t have to hold himself back any longer.

giorno giovanna: november 30th- the only reason he lasted as long as he did is because he’s a busy man, running the mafia and such. he didn’t have the time to worry about rearranging your guts while drugs plagued the streets of italy. don’t you worry though, once he manages to get a day off he will make sure your needs are properly taken care of.

mista guido: november 1st-the amount of self control this man has is close to none. if he starts to feel horny no matter where or when he will indulge in his urges. when you bring up the idea of no nut november to him he agrees in the beginning. but after a few hours he decides he doesn’t want to do it anymore. this man is fucking whipped and he is proud of it.

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zhonglisemptywallet · 5 months ago

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jotaro hated you. he hated your bright pink outfits, he hated your extreme makeup. he thought you were like an overdressed doll, almost begging for attention.

he hated your sickeningly sweet voice, and he hated the giggles that would slip your mouth whenever you passed by him.

you were so… girly, so bright. it was too much for him to handle. you’d often flock around him with your friends, however he noticed that you only seemed to be interested in gossiping with the rest of the girls.

what, did you not like him or something?

no, that’s impossible. you’re the girliest girl at his school, of course you like him!

wrong.

jotaro couldn’t stand to be in class anymore- it’s not like they mattered anyways, he was graduating soon.

so, he excused himself for a bathroom break and took shelter behind the school- only to be greeted by your unknowing form.

you were leaning against the brick wall, applying lipgloss onto your plump lips as you stared intently at your pocket mirror that was perched in your delicate hand. you had just applied lotion, and the sun shimmered perfectly on your new set of nails.

you had a cute outfit on, your shoes weren’t rubbing against your foot, the wind wasn’t too harsh- it was a perfect day.

you thought that, until you glanced to the side for a second and caught a glimpse of jotaro.

the manwhore who somehow won oven your friends.

“what do you want?” you’d huff, closing the lid to your sparkly lipgloss, before placing it in the chest pocket of your shirt.

“why are you here?” jotaro asked, eyes narrowing when he noticed you shift your weight onto another leg, still not even bothering to look at him.

“what do you mean?” you’d bat your eyelashes, your body finally turned towards the larger man in front of you.

wow, you were really trying that?

he’d seen you act like this before, all sweet and innocent. a group of boys around you, asking all sorts of questions. and you simply sat there like the angel you are, fluttering your eyelashes and giggling at each unfunny joke. it’s fun to play with your toys a little, you know?

but jotaro knew about your little innocent facade.

he knew your little secret, and you knew his.

whenever the two of you were bored and horny, you’d meet behind the school and he’d blow your back out, or you’d give his dick a good suck.

it’s not like he was a bad fuck, either.

too lazy to finish, lmk if you want part 2 w/ smut xx

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zhonglisemptywallet · 5 months ago

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4&13 not sfw prompts for our baby josuke?? i honestly relate with you, josuke is just miam we love him <33 ty !!

a/n: yall really like to kill me, also this was very fem at first but it turned gendered netural so all my homies can enjoy this. also I wrote this in a normal writing format no hc/bullet point format so, tell me how I did.

warnings: not sfw, hinted at sex, hand over mouth, foreplay, hinted at voyeurism/forced masturbastion

prompt(s): 4) “You’d better be quiet if you don’t want to get caught.” + 13) “Touch yourself for me.”

——

AHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHH

nothing can explain how this started. one second you and josuke were playing playing video games. the next you two were mouths on mouths, hands on skin. nimble fingers tugging, pulling, sliding oh so down

it took until you started tugging at his jacket for josuke to pull away from you whining.

“what? you’re no fun” his lip pouting.

at this point you were in his lap, hands wrapped about your waist “josuke, please. too many layers”

he laughs before he started pulling off his jacket and white shirt leaving himself in his yellow undershirt

“seee there” he teases before pulling you over and tugged on your clothes. “now, it’s your turn”

he tugged you in to kiss you. his hands went to your shirt and pulled it off then they went down to your waistband. your hand stopped him.

“hey,” he soothes, his hand shooting up to cup your cheek. “I’m sorry did I take to far?”

“no you just shocked me” his eyes looked for anything in yours. he saw nothing out of the ordinary.

“Are you sure?"

“yes, josuke”

That’s when he put a hand behind your head, the other on the small of your back, and turned you over and on to the ground. “good”

kissing your neck as he shimmied whatever you were wearing down your legs. he smiled against your neck hearing you mewl.

his hand palmed your most sensitive area making a moan rip through you. “hey, hey”

he putting his hand over your mouth. “You’d better be quiet if you don’t want to get caught.”

right his mom was in one of the next rooms. she could all the expletives her son and his partner were doing at this very moment if she was close by. you nod as he moves his hand away from your mouth.

his hand currently on your underwear moved to removed them as he gawked in the most lowkey way possible.

“wow,” he breathed as he flicked his eyes to yours from above. “it’s like the first time all over again”

he chuckled seeing you try to curl up into yourself and to cover your face. his hands going to stop you. “hey, why are you embarrassed?”

you didn’t answer, he knew why. he liked seeing the effect he has on you by the saying things like that. things that will have you bothered in more ways than one.

“you’re embarrassing. you know that”

“oh, so I’m embarrassing” his hand started gripping one of yours that was going to cover your face, then he started dragging it down. way down. “okay then, touch yourself for me.”

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zhonglisemptywallet · 5 months ago

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BETWEEN FRIENDS. nanami kento x reader

˚ ₊ ‧ ⁺ ⋆ ♱ : SYNOPSIS: Curious about a scandelous rumor, you ask your best friend Nanami Kento to reveal his secret. Personally.

SMUT. MINORS DO NOT INTERACT.

Nanami Kento was a man of many talents, and as his self-proclaimed best friend, you knew them all. Being so close, it was only natural for you to bug him about the tiniest details, and he didn’t expect anything less.

So, when Gojo overheard—and subsequently told everyone else—that Nanami was too big to enjoy for his most recent one night stand, he couldn’t help but pass the word along.

You thought he’d be embarrassed or shocked when you asked to see it yourself, lecturing you on how you shouldn’t entertain certain rumors, but he just stared at you emotionlessly. Years of friendship potentially be thrown away by your bluntness, but was he really one to judge?

"Well, I suppose I’d have to get hard first."

Nanami Kento can get quiet easily, and that feeling of emptiness shared was nothing to worry about. While you were trying to figure out what his raised eyebrows meant, he was already imagining what might come after you got what you wanted. or who.

Though he wouldn’t admit it, his initial reaction was just a cover-up to hide his true feelings. He’d be a fool to miss a chance like this.

If Nanami said he didn’t spend nights picturing you taking him in, guiding you to the special spots where he felt the most pleasure, he’d be lying. Thats if he could even manage to hold back when your big eyes looked up at him, lips slick with saliva and his precum.

But, since you always had to know everything, who was he to stop you?

So no, he wasn’t going to stop his best friend when you touched his bulge, wanting to 'see his size.' He wouldn’t mind giving you answers when it came to those blessful rumors, and when he was done with you, they’d be anything but true.

Sitting on his bed, he let you pull his pants down to his ankles, your lips just inches away from his exposed cock.

Knowing everything about Nanami’s sex life also meant he knew yours—or, the lack of it. He knew no man had ever touched you intimately, or that your lips hadn’t tasted anything else other than another pair.

It was his sick dream to be your first. The experienced and hopelessly in love Nanami Kento, corrupting his innocent, sweet best friend.

Though there was nothing innocent about that look. The way you watched him like he was your prey. The way you licked your lips so seductively, capturing him in a timeless trance as your hand worked smoothly to make him hard.

Yes, innocence meant nothing now, because nothing had ever felt this amazing. If anything, you were corrupting him. You had barely touched him, and within a few minutes, he was the hardest he’d ever been.

“Kento, how am I doing?”

His tip darkened, the pleasure he felt was something he had only dreamed of. And gods, you looked so good below him. You were being so good for him, making sure he felt so good, and he hadn’t even given a single command.

Although, who’s to say he’d be the one in charge under your gaze? It was as if you were fighting for your own dominance, one you didn’t know the consequences for.

Licking his head, he felt his hips moving to feel you more. The vibrations of your laugh made him want to shut you up—feel himself down your throat, but he held onto his patience. This was something he’d wanted for so long, and who was he to rush and ruin the moment?

“Kento,” you purred his name against his skin, taking him deeper without looking away. His eyes watched you closely, admiring each drop of saliva that dripped from your mouth onto him. "Speak to me. Am I doing okay?"

He gasped at the sudden suction as you went further, suppressing any gags. His fingers tangled in your hair with a strong pull, guiding you at a pace he liked.

He breathed out his response as if he couldn’t say more, "Phenomenal."

Nanami Kento wanted to seem patient, but he was anything but. He didn’t want to rush the way your lips parted around him, or the way he could feel the way you gagged every time he hit the back of your throat. He didn’t want to rush anything, but you were only taking part of him, and eventually, Nanami wouldn’t have that.

You’ve gotten so far already, he would make sure you’d take him completely.

His hand gripped tighter as the other guided your chin, small tears brimming your eyes at the sudden force, turning him on even more with your soft moans.

"You’re crying,” his hand wiped your cheek, his voice soft and sweet, "but you’re doing so good. Don’t cry.”

You gagged as he thrust harder, your lips were slick and swollen as he got needier with each hit, a small smile on his face.

Nanami Kento had waited for this moment. The moment for you to finally tend to his needs after missing out on what he had to offer. It was almost as if you both knew that someone would eventually fold, and maybe that’s why he would always go into a little bit too much detail about his most recent fuck all the time. The craving in your eyes said it all, he knew this would eventually happen, but he refused to submit first.

Because as his best friend, he needed you to want him more. To be open to the poison he wanted to desperately lay inside you, and maybe it was a bit manipulative, but wasn’t that what you liked?

His head fell back in defeat for a moment as his climax quickly approached, the pleasure too intense when his eyes now only peaked open just enough to view your face. His thighs tensed under your fingertips, saltiness hinting on your tongue for only a split second as Nanami let go of an ungodly groan.

Your mouth became vacant quickly after, Nanami’s full of contentment as he went to finish on your face. Though, he didn’t expect you to stick your tongue out like that, or those loving eyes to be watching him so beautifully as you gathered his cum with your fingers to make sure you swallowed it all.

It felt like he could do it all again, and that's just the affect you had on Nanami Kento.

As he watched you suck on your own fingers covered in him, he knew there was nothing more addictive than the sight before him. The way you took him perfectly and were still eager to make sure all of him was inside you, even after it was over.

Looking down at you, it only took a few moments for his grip to pull your lips up to his, the weight of you now in his hands as he lifted you onto the bed, “Ahh—Kento…”

The dominance in his tongue battled yours as he tasted himself through you, loving that his first taste of your lips was after you were already claimed.

"Love,” his voice was deep, moving past your ear, licking your neck like a starving man about to feast, "you didnt think we were done yet, did you?”

Nanami Kento was a man of many talents, and as his self-proclaimed best friend, you thought you knew them all. Perhaps the rumors were misleading, and as impatient as he was, he’d be damned to let another minute pass where those rumors stayed true.

all works belong to ilylaw. please do not steal !

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zhonglisemptywallet · 5 months ago

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Toji x male Himbo reader nsfw thoughts

Female aligned dni, 18+ only content below

Toji who bends you over the kitchen counter roughly fucking your eyes into the back of your head because you were wearing a pair of shorts that he said where ��too revealing”

Toji who watches ever movement you make and every slutty action you do with that dumb doe eyed look on your face making him wanna press his cock to your lips, forcing you to suck until tears while you press your crotch against his leg trying to get some friction for your painfully hard bulge

Toji who sees you in your revealing shorts during summer, hugging your curves and body in public making him only stare at you coldly just to push you into an alley making you yelp in confusion before pushing you against the brick wall degrading you calling you “fucking whore, I bet you wanted this?, wanted me to fucking use you like the slut you are boy?” He grins and whispers in your ear while pulling your shorts down as the fall down to your ankles and he rough fucks you against the alley wall, your thighs around his hips as he holds you fucking you harshly until you can’t think straight just to make you pull your shorts up afterwards like you aren’t leaking his cum from your abused hole feeling your bloated stomach from his seed earning a grin as he licks his scar

Toji who fucks you stupid, your face pressed down in the pillows your lips parted wide as you brokenly moan his name earning a harsh slap on your ass while he degrades you calling you “personal whore, cock drunk slut, and his boy” while your eyes hazily roll into your head and tear up from pleasure not being able to think straight while he roughly fucks you

Toji who reaches down and strokes your cock while he takes you from behind, his large fingers teasing your sensitive tip as it leaks pre cum all over yourself earning a whorish whine from you making him slap your ass in the process

Toji who grips your thighs to the point of bruising as he hangs your legs over his shoulders forcing you into a mating press while his other hand running up your chest squeezing your pecs and twisting your nipples telling you hushed words like “such pretty breasts, boy” he whispers in your ear such feminine names for you while you brokenly plea “n naht bre sts~” only making him grin and fuck you harder degrading and feminizing you until you can’t moan any words

Toji who makes you suck his cock after his work outs, placing hid leaking tip against your pouty lips smearing his pre cum as you look up at him making you part your lips as his heavy cock sits on them forcing a few cat licks on the tip before he shoves it fully in your mouth, his rough hand in the back of your head as he bobs your head up and down on his cock pressing it all the way to the back of your throat forcing your face pressed into his groin as you sloppily suck him off with your drool running down your chin looking up at him with lidded eyes feeling desperate for him to bend you over again

Toji who after fucking you leaves you whining and twitching in overstimulation your cock all red and puffy with cum staining your stomach and plump pecs while your hole twitches trying to clench around the air while his cum leaks out of you down your thighs making him lick his scar and press his tip back against your leaking and abused whole as he pushes back in again leaving your jaw slacked and your face ruined

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zhonglisemptywallet · 5 months ago

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JJBA men thinking of you while masturbating

NSFW / Minors don't interact / 18+

Characters: Jotaro Kujo / Bruno Bucciaratti / Josuke Higashikata / Rohan Kishibe / Giorno Giovanna x female reader

Warnings: male masturbation, fantasies about sex (blowjobs, penetrative sex), slight exhibitionism, voyeurism (Josuke’s part)

Notes: All underage characters aged up of course. Hope you enjoy and let me know what you think! Comments and reblogs are highly appreciated <3

Jotaro Kujo

Jotaro is used to being the one pined over, the one admired, turning people’s heads, the constant touch of careful hands, being adored for his sheer height and width.

What he isn’t used to, however, is being the admirer.

Since he’s laid his eyes on you, he got to know the feeling. He didn’t even realize it at first. Of course, he wants to study with you, and naturally, he wants your opinion on the latest seminar paper he has written, certainly, he wants to help you with your work. You’re his fellow student, his friend.

But when Jotaro used his stand to stop the time for just a few seconds, to freeze the sweet smile on your face as you looked at him, eyes bright and glowing, to just observe you longer like this, he realized that maybe, you’re not just his friend. Maybe, you mean more to him.

And as he sits in the library now, unable to focus on his laptop screen in front of him, he turns his head to look at you. And he’s sure; you’re not just his friend.

He can see the subtle shadow under your eyes, the way your eyelids seem too heavy, and your disheveled hair. Something tears at his very heart when he gazes at you.

You turn your head, shooting him a tired, nonetheless, sweet smile.

“Could you look at this?” You ask him, pointing at your laptop.

Jotaro nods, scooting closer to you with his chair.

The lack of proximity makes it hard for him to concentrate on the words before him, let alone your voice as you try to explain your work. He hums here and there, his eyes taking in the words, his brain not comprehending the meaning.

He can smell your scent, your subtle and sweet perfume. He feels your heat on his skin. Jotaro slightly turns his head. You’re so close, he can see every pore of your skin, your lashes, the distinct color of your eyes, and the gentle sweep of your nose. He swallows hard against the dryness of his mouth.

You turn your head, slightly rising your eyebrows, your gaze locking with his. His gaze drops to your glistening lips, his desire for you flaring hot in his chest. His head dips forward automatically, every cell of his urging him to lock his lips with yours.

His chair nearly falls over as he stands up abruptly.

“What are you doing?” You ask perplexed.

Jotaro ignores you. He can’t face you like this.

The library is almost vacant. He moves along the high shelves until his breathing has normalized a bit.

He leans against one of the shelves, trying desperately to ignore the way his blood runs hotly through his veins, the way it rushes down his body.

It’s palpable, the way he longs for you, the way he yearns to touch you. His half-hardened dick twitches in his pants at the thought of it.

He buries his face in his hands, embarrassed at his own weakness. Memories of you flood his mind; your shining lips, your bright eyes, your scent.

His head falls back against the books on the shelf, his hands dangling feebly on his side. Jotaro can’t seem to get ahold of himself. His mind is racing, he sees you, putting up your hair, exposing your slender neck, he sees you, sitting next to him, your short dress riding up your thighs.

It seems like the rational part of his brain stopped functioning. He’s not even fully aware of what he’s doing, so caught up with thinking of you, until a little sigh drips from his lips.

He looks down, seeing his dick straining noticeably against his pants, his hand palming him through his trousers.

His face flushes hot, his heartbeat pounding in his ears. No one is around, he assures himself once more.

It has no use stopping now.

Hurriedly, he tugs down his pants and boxers. His cock springs free, right into his grip. He hisses at the drag of his palm along his dick. It feels so good. The slight possibility of getting caught only heightens his lust.

He watches his fist drag along his length, taking in the bead of pre-cum dropping along his shaft, easing the glide of his hand.

He thinks about your thighs again, how soft they would feel as he’d let his large hands smooth along them, and what he would find when you spread them for him.

His head tips back against the shelf, his eyes fluttering shut as he slightly increases his pace. He imagines your glistening pussy, dripping for him. He’d sink his long, thick fingers into you, curling and scissoring them until he has you whimpering and whining, begging for him to finally fuck you.

Jotaro can practically see your expression; your doe-eyes peering at him, your lips parted, your body trembling. A low groan rips past his chest, his fist squeezing his cock just a little tighter.

He pictures you, sitting atop of him, your delicate hands pressing against his chest as you lower yourself on his dick, slowly taking him in, your eyes rolling to the back of your head when he fills you up completely. He would watch your pretty tits bouncing with every move of yours, and the beautiful, lust-drunk expression on your face.

His hips stutter forward into his fist as he imagines rutting into you, holding your hips so tightly as he fucks up into you. He can practically hear your moans, your sweet, whiny whimpers, and the way his skin slaps against yours.

Jotaro increases the pace of his hand, concentrating on his sensitive tip, a strained gasp falling from his parted lips.

He imagines you cumming, his name drops from your lips, drawn out into a delirious moan. He can almost feel it; the way your pussy would spasm around his throbbing dick, practically urging him to spill his seed into you.

A string of curses leave his lips, his hips stuttering into his hand once more before he cums. He jerks through his orgasm, a spurt of cum dripping down his dick, onto his hand, with each hurried stroke. He thinks about rolling his hips into you, letting your pussy milk him dry as a mess of your slick and his cum runs down your thighs.

He shallowly thrusts into his fist until he’s hissing from overstimulation. His heavy eyes flutter open, his heart racing in his heaving chest as his gaze drops.

A strained sigh drops from his lips as he takes in his messy hand holding his weeping length. Slowly, he comes back down to earth, realizing what he’s just done.

His head snaps in the direction where you’re probably sitting, hopefully, still staring at your laptop screen. And Jotaro just stands here, a few meters away, his released emotions for you tainting his hand.

Bruno Bucciaratti

It’s obvious that you’re new on the job. Bruno doesn’t notice this solely because he’s a regular at the restaurant and hasn’t seen you before.

Rather, it is the way you fail to see the subtle signs the guests give you, asking for the check or mixing up orders one too many times.

You’re the new waitress. And until now you don’t do a great job.

It’s obvious that you’re stressed, evident from the slight sheen of sweat on your forehead and the way your cheeks glow. A wave of sympathy washes over Bucciaratti as he watches you rush around the restaurant. And he feels something more, a little tug in his chest because you just look so unbelievably cute while doing that.

He’s not even mad that he already had to wait so long for you to finally bring him his wine. Because when you do, he can look at you from up close, observing your delicate fingers place the wine glass on his table, watching the loose strands of hair hanging into your face.

And when he thanks you, the smile you give him makes the minutes worth the wait.

His eyes hang onto your body as he watches you retreat. He’s glad that his fellow gang members aren’t here right now because they surely would tease him for being a pervert or something. But he just can’t help himself, his eyes greedily glide along your silhouette.

Bruno takes a sip of his wine, trying to cool down the hotness rushing through his body.

He orders his second glass and he’s not sure if he just flatters himself, but he’s pretty sure that you pay particular attention to him. Or maybe he’s just deluding himself.

When you walk towards him, his eyes cling to your waist and the way your trousers hug you so right. You look amazing; even when you’re stressed.

He breathes in your scent when you lean closer to him, basking in the feeling of your warmth.

The clang of the glass rudely rips him out of his thoughts.

Seems like you’re not only incredibly gorgeous but also incredibly clumsy.

The wine leaks over the table, staining the white tablecloth red and spilling all over his pants.

“Oh my god, I’m so sorry.” The panic in your voice is palpable.

“Don’t worry,” he tries to soothe you.

He watches your eyes nervously flickering over the mess you made before they lock with his.

You look at him with so much gratitude because he doesn’t make a big scene. His heart flutters in his chest.

You quickly take ahold of a napkin, dabbing it on his trousers, trying to let the fabric soak up the liquid.

You’re so close, bending down, granting him an intimate look right on your cleavage. Bruno swallows hard, reluctantly averting his gaze.

He can barely hear you muttering your apologies. He just tries to stay calm, to think of anything other than your hand smoothing along his thigh, rubbing over his stained trousers.

The motion just makes a flood of sinful associations enter his mind. He can practically feel his face growing hot.

Abruptly he gets up. You look at him startled.

“Sorry did I-“

“I’m just going to clean myself up, no worries really,” he adds, unable to bear the way you gaze at him.

The stain is big, bright red, clearly noticeable on his white trousers. The soap and water he applies have no use in helping it whatsoever.

He doesn’t even care, his mind is somewhere else anyway.

Bruno just can’t get over the way you looked up at him, the lack of proximity you two found yourself in, and the way you were practically kneeling in front of him. He can only think about you doing other things in that position.

A long sigh escapes his mouth. He surrenders, stopping to take care of his stain. His head falls against the closed bathroom door and he allows himself to let his desires take hold of his body and mind.

His dick strains hard against his pants as he sees you in front of him again, kneeling, with those doe eyes peering up at him.

He frees his cock from the confinement of his pants, wrapping his hand tightly around his girth. Bruno hisses quietly, dragging his hand along his throbbing length, imagining it is your hand wrapped around him instead.

He visualizes your hand pumping into his swollen head, the way his cock would look so big in comparison. A low gasp drops from his lips as a bead of pre-cum drips down his shaft, easing the glide of his eager hand.

His head tips back against the door, thinking about you kneeling in front of him, looking up at him as your delicate hand strokes his cock.

The pace of his hurried hand increases, as he envisions you taking him into your mouth, softly sucking on his flushed tip, your eyes peering up at him obediently. He bites back a low whine.

He sees your beautiful face in front of him; your glowing face, your starry eyes, as you take all of him inside of your pretty mouth. His hands would thread through your hair, holding you, feeling the restriction of your tight throat. And then you would follow his guidance, bobbing your head just how he likes it.

Bruno groans quietly. “Just like that,” he mutters, pumping hurriedly into his swollen head.

He can clearly see you in his mind, those unbelievable eyes staring up at him, tears spilling over as he ruts into the wet, soft heat of your mouth. His hips involuntarily rut forward into his fist.

A low whine slips past his lips, which he has no control over. He practically feels your swollen lips wrapped around him.

His hips stutter forward into his hands, two, three times before he tips over the edge. His orgasm washes over him, his thighs tensing, breathing erratic.

Bucciaratti jerks through his orgasm, panting hard, imagining his dick pulsing in your mouth, his cum landing on your awaiting tongue as you swallow everything that he gives you.

Then he’d pull out, letting his hot spurts of cum land on your beautiful face, mixing in with your spit, dripping down your chin, your cheeks. He groans desperately, seeing your messy face, your lips parted, opening your mouth eagerly for him, glassy eyes staring up at him obediently as he paints your face white.

His fist pumps into his swollen tip until he hisses from the overstimulation. Only then he slowly opens his eyes, taking in his soiled hand.

This mess may compete with the one you spilled on his table.

Josuke Higashikata

Sometimes Josuke really has to wonder if you do it on purpose. Can you really be that unaware of your surroundings, this clueless?

It isn’t the first time he has watched you like this. Far from it actually.

Since you’ve moved into the house right next to his, you made a habit of getting undressed, late in the evening or night, your light illuminating the room, leaving little room for imagination.

You haven’t invested in any kind of curtains yet and your lucky neighbor hopes you never will.

It has kind of become a habit of his, watching you through his dark windows, careful that you don’t notice him. And you never do.

Josuke observes how you lose your sweater first, followed by the top you were wearing underneath. He sucks in a little breath when he notices that you weren’t wearing a bra underneath. He can clearly see the outline of your bare breast, the way they softly jiggle as you throw the top somewhere.

Blood rushes down his body as his eyes greedily glide along your exposed upper body, your beautiful tits, your soft tummy, and your waist. He swallows against the dryness of his mouth, desperately hoping that one day he could be the one undressing you.

You open your jeans now, letting them plummet on the floor before stepping out of them. You bent over, picking them up to fold them away.

Fortunately for him, this gives him a perfect view of your ass. He can see your pussy through your panties, squished between those perfect asscheeks.

His heart beats violently against this ribcage, his blood running hot. He can feel it; the twitching of his hardened cock.

What he would give to bend you over like this himself, to pull those panties to the side. Josuke pulls down his pants, freeing his throbbing cock, wrapping his hand around his girth, because now his favorite part of your little routine comes; the instant he replays in his mind day and night.

You pull down your panties, carelessly tossing them on the floor, leaving your body completely bare. You observe your own reflection in the large mirror hanging on your wall. You let your fingers run through your hair, before they glide along your sides, your gaze following them, sliding along your body.

Josuke strokes his dick, his hungry eyes gliding along your silhouette, leaving no part unseen. You’re enticing. He could watch you like this forever.

But he can’t. You get your kimono, tieing it around your waist as you step out of the room, switching off the light.

Josuke sighs. He closes his eyes, still seeing your body in front of him.

He imagines his large hands gliding along your sides, feeling your soft skin under his, grabbing, kneading your flesh. He would cup your breasts, letting his thumbs circle your nipples until they harden under his touch.

What he would give to gaze deep into your eyes, pressing kisses along your throat, further down, sucking your nipples, hearing your voice bleeding into a soft moan.

His hand increases his pace as he imagines dropping to his knees, smoothing his palms along your hips, grabbing your ass.

A low whine rips past his chest as he thinks about your pretty pussy, right in front of his face.

He would worship you, his eager lips pressing feathery kisses onto your plush thighs before letting himself allow a taste of you. He just knows you would taste so good, letting his tongue glide along your folds, teasingly, before his tongue would draw tight circles on your sensitive clit.

Josuke imagines you bending in front of him, facing your floor-length mirror, as he slowly sinks into your sloppy pussy.

He would watch you, your reflection, the way your expression would change with each of his slow, deep thrusts, your face glowing as you watch yourself getting fucked by him. He knows you like to watch yourself.

He hurriedly pumps into his swollen tip, a bead of pre-cum rolling down his length, easing the glide of his eager hand.

Josuke can practically hear your voice, your whines, and the depraved sounds of pleasure, skin slapping against skin, the wet squelch of your pussy as you drip all over him. He would watch his large, slick cock split you open, again and again until he has your whole body trembling.

He imagines it's your pussy wrapped so tightly around his twitching cock, not his own hand, as he fucks into his fist. His hips involuntarily stutter forward into his hand before he tips over the edge.

He groans breathlessly, a string of curses leaving his lips as he jerks himself through his orgasm. His hot cum stains his hand, dripping down his shaft as he shallowly thrusts into his fist, riding out his high. He lets go of himself, panting as he comes down from his high.

Josuke will be there the next evening as well, waiting for you to give him his show.

Rohan Kishibe

Rohan observes you, he practically reads your face like a book - and this without the help of Heaven’s Door.

He hates you for your obvious expression. He really does.

You skim through his latest proposal for his manga, your delicate hands turning page after page as his green eyes hang onto your every expression.

You're strict with him and honest. Most people would probably appreciate it if their manga editor possessed such qualities. Rohan doesn’t. He hates getting told what to do. He knows he’s good. Everyone knows this. Everyone should.

Only you don’t seem to, often having suggestions or comments. He pretends like these aren’t helpful. He doesn’t want to give you the satisfaction.

Just like now, as you propose some suggestions, pointing out some inconsistencies in the story, he just listens, his eyes gazing into yours.

“How very helpful of you, I can really count on you, my love,” he hums, his voice dripping with sarcasm.

You bite back a smile, standing up from the seat behind your desk, and making your way to him. You stand behind him now, your hands resting on his shoulders. His muscle tense under your touch. You dip down, letting your hands glide along his chest, playfully so.

Rohan feels your breath on his neck and your heat on his skin, his nose filling up with your scent.

“Oh, you know me, always at your service,” you breathe into his ear before you retreat.

He composes himself, hurriedly standing up as well, saying goodbye to you as usual. He sees a smirk tugging at the corner of your lips. He fully knows, that you just enjoyed baffling him. And he can’t seem to have anything to say, that would imply that he wasn’t.

The moment resurfaces in his mind throughout the remaining day.

He doesn’t know why meeting you always aggravates him so much. But this time you really were too much.

Late at night, when he’s lying in his bed, he really can’t seem to shake the memory of him. It’s like he can still feel your hot breath on his neck, your soft, inviting voice. He practically feels your hands smoothing along his chest.

Rohan desperately tries to ignore the way his dick twitches in his boxers. He has to tell himself that he doesn’t like you. Not one bit. Not at all. He tosses and turns, throwing his blanket away, and getting up to get himself some water.

It doesn’t help. He sits at the edge of his bed, looking down at his hardened cock showing through his boxers.

Every minute he doesn’t do anything, his longing for pleasure, for release, seems to heighten until he’s unable to hold back anymore.

Rohan tugs down his boxers, letting his cock spring into his grip. The first, slow drag of his palm along his length elicits him a gasp of relief. He lowers his gaze, watching as he drags his fist up and down his cock.

His mind is somewhere entirely else.

He thinks about you. About your hands on his chest, about your scent, about your sweet, honeyed voice.

He imagines you’re here in the room with him, that it was your hand that is dragging along his weeping length.

Rohan envisions you kneeling in front of him, your eyes peering up at him curiously before you wrap your plush lips around him. You’d look so good with hollowed cheeks and obedient eyes, bobbing your head.

“Just like that,” he mumbles. His grip grew a little tighter with each pump of his hand.

He visualizes his hand threading through your hair, pushing you to take more of him. He yearns to see tears spill from your eyes, he wants you to gag on his cock.

“Nothing to say now, huh?” He mumbles deliriously, lost in his fantasy.

He pretends it's your mouth and throat he’s fucking into, not his own hand. A breathless moan pulled from his chest, and another bead of pre-cum dripped down his cock to ease the glide of his hurried hand.

He can feel his impending orgasm, the way the knot in his stomach is twisting tighter and tighter with each harsh stroke of his hand.

A desperate groan falls from his mouth when he imagines your glassy eyes peering up at him. He envisions slipping his cock out of your mouth, and how you would loll out your tongue for him.

“You want that? Want me to cum all over that pretty face of yours, huh?” His voice is breathless, strained.

A low whine rips past his chest as he practically hears your whiny, desperate “Yes.”

He cums, a drawn-out moan of your name filling up the room, as his orgasm washes over him. His thighs tremble, his abdomen tensing as his hot cum paints his hand white.

He visualizes his spurts of cum landing on your tongue, dripping down your chin and lips, mixing in with your spit, imagining you swallowing, eagerly taking all that he gives you.

“Good girl,” he breathes, his chest heaving with his heavy pants.

Slowly he comes back into reality as his cock softens in his hand. His dick falls heavy against his thigh, as he observes the mess he made.

Rohan swallows, muttering to himself that he really does find you annoying. But he isn’t so sure if he can still believe this now.

Giorno Giovanna

Giorno leans against the rough bark of the tall birch, his long legs spread on the grass. He’s letting his eye wander, observing people walking their dogs, kids playing tag, and friend groups sitting in a circle on the green grass, beer in hand.

It fulfills him with contentment, with a certain tranquility when he sees all these people that are so happy, so careless, seeming so innocent and pure. He often comes here, clearing his mind, forgetting about all his duties and stress.

And as his gaze moves from one place to another he discovers you. As his eyes rest on you, he wonders how he could’ve been caught up in observing anything other. And now that he has seen you, how could he look away?

You’re sitting on a bench not far from him, a book in your delicate hands. Hair falls into your face, softly swaying in the breeze. He notices the corners of your eyes crinkling as you try to make out the sentences in the bright sunlight.

After a few minutes, it seems like you have given up, placing the book next to you on the bench. Your eyes fall close, soaking up the sun.

And Giorno just watches you; angling your face towards the sun, discarded book next to you, the soft breeze playing with your hair.

He doesn’t know why he can’t seem to tear his eyes away. It calms him in a way that is hard to describe, to see you comfortable in your skin, with no trace of stress or worry painted on your face, falling into the moment, appreciating it. It touches something deep within himself.

Giorno is mostly surrounded by hard, harsh people. Men that have killed, and will do so again.

It’s refreshing to look at you, it makes his skin feel warmer than the sun shining upon it.

He doesn’t know how to approach you, he’s not even sure if he should. He picks up a blade of grass, letting his stand metamorphose it into a butterfly.

The little insect reels through the air, heading for you.

You don’t notice it until it lands on the tip of your nose. Your eyes open languidly. They grow wider as they take in the butterfly right before them.

It takes off again, fluttering a few centimeters in front of your face. Giorno watches you laugh out of surprise, your smile shining brighter than the afternoon sun.

You stretch out your hand, the butterfly landing on your finger, sitting still. The wonder in your eyes as you observe it from up close makes his heart flutter, just like the butterfly’s wings. He’s entranced, his eyes hanging onto you until you go.

And when he is back in his home, after talking to some of his subordinates, after feeling the stress and his responsibility resting on his shoulders anew he wishes he could see you. To let his gaze travel along your features, to feel this tenderness washing over himself again.

He leans back in his chair behind his desk, picturing you. How your eyes widened in surprise upon gazing at the butterfly, how your delicate hand waved through the air, how your skin glowed in the sun.

Giorno can’t help wondering how soft your skin would feel against his lips, imagining kissing your shut eyes, pressing feathery kisses onto every centimeter of your face until his ears pick up your soft giggles. He would pull away, his nose nearly touching yours, his hands cradling your cheeks, watching the creases at the corner of your eyes deepening.

This is harmless. This is okay.

But his mind can’t stop running. He can’t stop his thoughts from wandering, from imagining himself pressing tender kisses along your jaw, your throat, along your breasts.

He thinks about taking your nipple into his mouth, softly sucking, noticing your breath deepening, his other hand kneading your other breast.

Giorno gulps, his blood rushing down his body. He imagines moving further down, a trail of kisses along your waist, your stomach, along your thighs.

His breath hitches, feeling his dick straining against his pants. He wonders how your pussy would look, how sweet you would taste, as his tongue laps at your folds.

His chest burns with desire, his cheeks hot as he just can’t shake these thoughts off.

Reluctantly, he gives in to his urges. He tugs down his pants and boxers, his hand wrapping around his hardened cock.

His head rests against his chair. His eyes drifted shut, to visualize you more clearly. He sees you in front of him, your unbelievable eyes staring up at him, slightly widening as he sinks into your wet pussy, his cock being encompassed by your warm, tight walls. A sigh drops from his lips.

His thumb swipes across his slit, collecting the bead of pre-cum that has gathered there. Slowly, he starts to drag his hand along his length, pumping into his swollen tip, before repeating the gesture. With each pass, his grip grows a little bit tighter, and his fantasies a little dirtier.

He imagines it's your pussy that is wrapped so tightly around his cock, not his own hand. He pictures your every expression, your eyes darkening, your cheeks burning, your plush lips dropping open, releasing sweet moans and whimpers.

Giorno wants to see you tremble, wants to see you fall apart underneath him, because of him. He mimics the slow and deliberate thrust with his hand, before increasing his pace. A drawn out, breathless moan escapes his parted lips.

He yearns to see the surprised look in your eyes, the little frown on your face, as he throws your legs over his shoulders, thrusting even deeper into you.

He would fuck you until you quiver underneath him, until your voice is hoarse until you can’t see straight, until you’re a mess, gushing all over his cock. He would fuck you until you’re satisfied.

Only then he’ll let himself succumb. A groan rips past his heaving chest as he imagines your pussy clenching down on him greedily, urging him to spill every drop of his hot cum deep within you.

With that thought in his mind, with him envisioning your sloppy pussy fluttering around his dick, he cums. A groan drops from his lips, his fist squeezing a little tighter, concentrating on his swollen tip as his orgasm washes over him.

He envisions himself buried deep inside of you, his cock throbbing with each rope of hot cum he fills you up with.

Shallowly he rides out his high, his body twitching helplessly as his ropes of creamy cum drip down his thick shaft and onto his hand, imagining your pussy milking him dry.

He’s breathless, his chest heaving with pants, as he lets go of himself. His gaze drops onto his soiled hand.

Giorno wonders how such a sweet and tender thing as you could lead him to do such lascivious things.

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zhonglisemptywallet · 5 months ago

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𝐎𝐋𝐃 𝐌𝐄𝐍 that know how to treat a woman. You know this isn’t their first rodeo, and it’s clear it won’t be their last. They put your pleasure above their own, making it their goal to tease you until you cry.

𝐎𝐋𝐃 𝐌𝐄𝐍 that make sure your neighbors can hear you. They have no shame when it comes to making you feel good, or making you loud.

𝐎𝐋𝐃 𝐌𝐄𝐍 that whisper “it’s okay baby” while they go down on you. Their thrusts are harsh, but their kisses aren’t, and they make sure to talk you through the whole thing.

𝐎𝐋𝐃 𝐌𝐄𝐍 who have you calling them back because you know no one else can do you as well as they can.

Welt Yang, Old Joseph Joestar, Pt. 6 Jotaro Kujo, Endeavor, Shinjuro Rengoku, Zhongli

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zhonglisemptywallet · 5 months ago

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— jjba: being a TA for Dr. Jotaro Kujo

characters: Jotaro Kujo (Part 4), gender neutral reader, mention of Dio Brando

rating: NSFW. MINORS DNI.

Imagine…

…being a TA to Dr. Kujo.

Tension had been rising between you two until finally one day you gave in.

He’d have you weeping for his cock before he even undressed. His dick would be twitching and throbbing in his pants just watching how eager you were.

He wouldn’t even move yet as he told you how he never expected you to be this easy and wonder if you had tried this with the other professors.

“I’ve seen the way you look at Professor Brando. You have no business being over in the law wing yet you always make a point to pass his office…Why is that?”

And he’d start fucking you hard in jealousy.

You’d stutter and choke on your words wanting to explain yourself but the force of fully taking Dr. Kujo’s cock would render you tongue tied.

“It’s just — ah! It’s just a cr-crush! I - I swear.”

He’d wrap his big calloused hand in your hair and pull you up so your back was flat against his hard muscled torso while his other arm wrapped right under your chest.

His thrusts powerful, he’d grunt into your ear,

“Oh? Am I just a crush, too? Do you fuck every professor you have a little crush on? Or perhaps you thought I’d be easy? Poor divorced Dr. Kujo…he’s over 40 and looks so lonely. I’m sure he isn’t getting laid…”

And then he’d chuckle darkly, his hot breath still against your ear. Your stomach would drop and you’d somehow blush at his laugh, even though his cock was pushing so deep inside you over and over again.

“Well?”

He’d drop his hand that had been holding you under your chest to between your legs and rub your sex.

“Do I seem out of practice to you?”

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zhonglisemptywallet · 5 months ago

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ℕ𝕒𝕧𝕚𝕘𝕒𝕥𝕚𝕠𝕟

Rules and match ups

Requests: Open!

Match Ups: Open!

JJBA Masterlist

Stranger Things master list

My Anon is also on! I would love to have Anons!

Current amount of requests: like 30~ but keep them coming

Proshippers(or whatever y’all are calling yourselves these days if the views aline leave please), transmeds,any form of bigot Do not interact you will be blocked

women allied people just don’t fetishize my stuff please

i have a lot of fics but a lot of space in between so my master list or looking up the Male reader tag in my blog is the faster way to see them all!

last updated 3/28/24

List of anons

✈️🥝 🐉🫐🦊🐌🥭🦋💿 🥯❄️🧷🐞🍒🦖ᗢ ✨💅🐚💎🔔🌿🍷🍄🧨🔮🍰🦭🥚🔥 🥖☕️👺🥑🌶️if I missed one please let me know!

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zhonglisemptywallet · 5 months ago

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hey! could i request bucciarati, rohan and dio with a catboy (maybe trans?) boyfriend? you dont have to do all of them! and it doesent have to be nsfw sorry if it's too much! thank you! :3

I dunno how to include trans so I kinda left it out sorry but I don’t mention genitalia so it’s all good!

Bruno

He thinks you’re so cute

He loves to pet you and play with your ears

He’s definitely a cat person so when he meets you it’s love at first sight

When cuddling he’ll stroke your tail

He’d buy you cute ribbons to tie around your tail as well

If you like cat toys there are so many around your house and he regularly comes home with a few new ones he found

The first time you purred while with him he nearly cried

Bought you a heating pad for the house when winter comes around and you can usually sunbath

Dio

You’re in his lap 24/7

He’s a villain of course he’s going to have his catboy boyfriend in his lap for his evil doings

Oh if you’re being stubborn with him he will tug on your tail

If you hiss at him for the tug he’ll bare his teeth at you and chase you around his mansion

Spoils you absolutely rotten

You have so many cat toys he’s gotten you

When you’re just standing around he’ll put his finger near your ears to make them flick around

He finds it very funny

He’ll carry you around the mansion when you’re sleepy cause he knows you won’t scratch him

Rohan

He loves it if he can see you sunbathing by his desk

Loves it even more if you’re resting under his desk or sitting on his lap while he works

When in bed with you he wants you to lay on his chest so he can play with your ears

He really wants to read all about you but only with your permission

He’s never had a cat before so he looks into them to see if any of it can work for you

That’s when he learns about cat tails and what it means when they’re certain ways

Now he can tell when you’re upset because he’ll see it thump on the ground

Another man who will buy you ANYTHING you will ask

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zhonglisemptywallet · 5 months ago

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I have a thing for aphrodisiacs...mind writing that with johnny joestar...? 😖

i dont mind at all, pal. idiot loser buys foreign candy. ahemhrm.

brattish subbot johnny joestar x soft domtop m

cw/c ;; unknowingly consuming drugs,,, brief overstim,,. disabled johnny - can still feel his genitals, frotting :p sorry for any mistakes

“come on johnny, what's the harm?!” you tease him, pinched fingers holding a piece of hard candy to the blondie's blue lipstick covered lips that you fancied yourself having a taste; arm slung around his shoulder in the comfort of your shared fancy hotel room you bought after making it to the checkpointㅡ

“my harm is that you bought that shit from a sketchy looking guy who had girls’ underwear stapled to his chest!” johnny complained, tossing you a glare from his side of the bed, partially shoving you away with a huff, “no one in their right mind would consume anything from a guy as suspicious as that. you're an idiot.” he mutters plainly, scrounging around in his bag to distract himself from the heat of your body next to his, leaning on himㅡ"well, i guess i am an idiot!” you huff, promptly crunching on the candy just to irritate him further.

“yes, i already know that..” johnny grits, rolling his shoulder back to shove your arm off him,. “you're probably gonna be poisoned. and then we're gonna leave you to be buried here, we don't wanna drag around dead weight.” he snickers at his own attempt at a joke, grinning.. “yeah, yeah.. i know how much you'd like that.” you stand abruptly, meandering toward the other side of the bed. a barrier of pillows placed by johnny, provided by the hotel, splitting the bed into two sides. you fiddle around with the nightstand, sucking on another smaller piece, before standing and making your way toward the windowㅡjohnny tensing at the sound of shuffling, trying to resist the urge to look at you in case you were already staring at him - the thought makes his heart palpitate a little harderㅡscribbling something in a miscellaneous notebook that wasn't for logging, thinking that he actually pissed you off,,,

now standing at the window of the shared room, overlooking the town as you suck dutifully on the candy - you didnt think it was sketch, the guy with panties stapled to his chest had a total assortment in his trenchcoat, and you saw a few other people buying off him before you!! he even had his own sign and a stall saying what he sells! you don't think its that bad.. an orange hard candy, rolling over your tongue.. tangy, sweet. yummy - before johnny joins you, rolling over and peeking out the window to see what was so fascinating to keep your gaze.. nothing too spectacular.. he side-eyes your tensed form, glancing down at the window sill and spotting a couple of tiny crumpled wrappers along the wood.. he figured you would have eaten them all already, but you seem to be pacing yourself... he hums faintly, curiosity piqued, seeing as they didn't seem to be taking effect if they were poisoned?? you were quite stupid in his eyes, taking candy from a stranger..

johnny purses his baby blue lips, hands in his lap before he was looking up at you;; “can I have one?” johnny held out his hand, eyes narrowed as he looked up at you, asking rather politely.. “jeez, alright, fine..” you huff as if it were the most tedious thing,,, a smile gracing your lips as you drop the paper wrapped candies into his awaiting palm, excited to share your treat with a man that expressed dislike for you..,,

“maybe it takes a while for the effects to kick in..” johnny snarks, yet pinches his fingers and tosses one of the hard candies in his mouth, rolling his tongue over the hard sugar, not allowing himself to hum in delight at the taste… not allowing you the satisfaction of being right that it does taste good. “then we die together.”

you bit your tongue, refraining yourself from asking about his dreams, goals, and gyro;; settling on.. “ew.. how disgustingly romantic.” you hiss in distaste, face burning with bashfulness, trying to play it off as a warm feeling begins spreading along your loins… a-ah.. hrnn.. “i'm tired.” you complain, ignoring the growing problem in your pants, turning away from johnny and company ( window ), “wh-what?” he stutters, eyes widening in surprise as you shuffle away from him - did he do something? REALLY!? did he piss you off,,, watching in slight surprise as you put away the candy and yourself away.. johnny huffs softly, before rolling himself back over to his side… shoving the blankets out of the way and helping himself onto the bed. he had no other choice but to do as you were, feeling a little awkward to do anything else.. you, squirming around on the other side of the barrier - turning on your side so that it wouldn't be that prominent,,,, jesus, your body was on fire. sweaty. it was a few minutes after you suddenly jumped into bed,,, squirming around with a dick aching to be touched,,, body dripping in sweat. you shuffle around in the dim light, not trying to awaken johnny as you presume he's already fallen asleep,,, struggling to unbutton your shirt and face the ceiling - a slight tent visible, the bulkiness of the blanket not helping,,

johnny interrupts your writhing with an utter of your name with a slight grit, breathlessness to his voice - he was laying on his back, mimicking your position. not that you could see anyhow, you jolt, surprised to hear his voice - you could feel the itchiness of the pre-cum lathering your tip and fabric of your underwear,,, “quit your moving.. i can't sleep with you moving around like that.” he complains softly - your thighs rub together, before completely stilling.

“yes, sorry johnny.” you quip back mutely, whispering. another minute passes, and you were growing increasingly restless and annoyed. should you jerk off in the bathroom? that is obviously the best option right now, but you can't help yourself, laying on your back, hands fidgeting at your sides. the warmth, an ache in your cock to be touched… you trail your hands over your abdomen, trailing lower underneath the blanket while staring straight up at the ceilingㅡ“f/n.” johnny's voice breaks you of your stupor, calling out your name so faintly you'd think you hallucinated itㅡreminding you of how close you were on the bed, pillows as a barrier or notㅡ

“yes, johnny?” your voice cracks as you reply meekly, a stark contrast to how you were acting just before, hands stationed at your sides - thinking that you were caught trying to touch yourself. the blanket shifts over you and rubs against your tent... you- you couldn't handle it.. the warmth spreading to your face, overtaking your abdomen, almost as if you were downing a bottle of liquor of some kindㅡ

"i.. i need help.”

you sit upward, looking over the pillow barrier worriedly - ignoring your boner for the sake of pleasing johnny and to help with whatever he possibly needs and turning on the lightㅡcome to find out he was dealing with a problem himself, staring wide-eyed at the ceiling with a face flushed red in the dim light, breathing relatively heavily before he sits himself up, the blanket falling off of his chest to his lap where… yes you can obviously see a bit of a tent there…

“help?” you murmur meekly, staring at him - reaching out and touching on his arm without even meaning to do so - your erection throbs with a heartbeat. ew. “help with what?” you continue worriedly, hand grazing upwards toward his neck.

“you know what, you idiot..” he couldn't help but hiss affectionately, having a liking for insulting you, letting himself lean over the barrier of pillows, partially against you. “you're such a moron, how could you let yourself be subjected to your stupid candy-eating habits? now look where it got us.” johnny.. as smart as ever. totally. obviously, if you both feel the same way, it must have been.. of course, a sketchy ass guy would sell you.. that kind of weird things. he would continue to berate you - but he needed to feel you, now. now, as in.. inside him, or you.. his hand grazing over his bulge shamelessly, which your eyes follow dutifully - squeezing your thighs together.

“yeah.. yeah sure.. uh .. uh huh..” in a messy haze, you tore yourself away, body on autopilot as you yank the blankets and sheets away - tossing the pillows to the side. johnny,,, laid out in the middle, hair splayed out on the pillows to support his head,,, lazily rubbing in between his legs..,,, you didn't have it in you to speak, as you were in a rush to be bare as a cloudless sunny sky, rushing to help johnny as he so begged you in his own way, having sit up and began trying to lift them off before you gently move his hands away - tugging them off completely, pushing him back and climbing atop him - noting how pretty his dick was, flushed an angry red and pre-cum pearling.. you shudder, tensing.. before taking him in your arms, holding him in, chest to chest and rutting your slick bare cock against his, grunting in his neck and nibbling on his neck - before he was squirming to push you off before he came so easily - unable to voice his pleasure as he was breathless in such a short amount of time, “s-s’ enough..” he grunts, drool slipping down his chin which you eagerly lean inward and lap up, smearing blue lipstick along your face and his - “need y’.. you.. in.” he squirms, trying to push you away, trying to get you to go downward - which you excitedly follow - after nearly cumming on top of johnny's dick from merely rubbing yourselves togetherㅡ

before you found your oil lubed up fingers pumping into his writhing, whining form - one of his legs hiked up just so you could see your fingers disappearing inside him,,, so lewd. before you began complaining, that he needs to feel you inside him - not your fingers. yo-you're cock, which he's been obviously eyeing up with the way it's been positively fucking sobbing with cum,, you slide up behind him, spooning him from behind and shifting your arm underneath him, under his arm just to shove your digits in his mouth while you spread him open;; eager to direct yourself into him; eager to be inside - eager to feel something warm and fleshy squeezing on your cock, yet you take your time with your hand palming on the fat of his thigh - unable to take your eyes off of his lower back side like the hungry admiring pervert you are,,, “hurry up.” johnny hisses - embarrassed at his neediness as he fidgets with his fingers - before yours were shoved in his mouth. the urge to completely chomp your fingers off waiving, as he laps up the sweat accumulated,, before you slowly push upwards, hand keeping his leg upward for you to enter,,, tip pushing passed his previously stretched ring of muscle, nearly cumming after you bottom out inside him, his squeezing gummy walls tensing around your cock - whimpering into the nape of his neck, before willing yourself to fuck into him sloppily,,,

“y-you.. feel so good, johnny…” you murmur, your usually chipper voice broken down to a mere whisper. his heart fluttering at your raspy voice, breathless as you tell him how good he feels,,, biting on your fingers and lapping up hisㅡyour fluids that coated your digits,, pumping ever so softly into his mouth, barely noticeable..

“,, i love youu,,” you bumped your head against his, nuzzling your nose into his cheek while nestled deep inside him;; bodies dripping in sweat so disgustingly in the comfort of a soft, cozy bed with the blankets strewn about on the floor.. johnny was sure that your confession was only because of your idiocy and dumb brain overloaded with lust,,, but still,, he involuntarily echoes it to you in a gentle, fond manner... blaming it all on your stupid candy and idiocy,,,..

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zhonglisemptywallet · 5 months ago

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team bucciarati w/ a crush whose hobby is collecting perfume bottles :3

these count as headcanons i think! ㅡ reader can be read as gender neutral. i love randomness frfr.. sorry for any mistakes :p

niche interests ftw!!!

hints of nsfw elements - notably mista's;; edging :p

bruno;;

ㅡwould be the type to thoroughly interact with you over ur hobby - giving you a firm allowance for your necessaties paired with your own pocket money and excitedly listening when you offer to showcase and then reviewing them with you - wanting to find a new one for himself from your collection perhaps? if you would let him of course.. he was eager to find one in your collection that reminds him of you, wanting to wear your scent on his clothes,,

ㅡoften reminding you everytime you come home with a new perfume in a pretty bag filled with tissue paper, not to give yourself headaches.. and when you accidentaly do so, he is quick to give remedies and scold softly,,

ㅡhe'd compare his interest with yours, a collector of fancy intricately made spoons embarrassingly he'd admit,, something you'd bond over - collecting antique perfumes and spoons together with ur shared downtime, hanging out in every other antique store and often exploring markets to find something that would appeal to the others..

ㅡanyway - showcasing your collection to bruno, excitedly as you spread them out - commenting on which ones don't give you headaches and offering them to bruno, even maybe,, gifting him one of yours,, a declaration of love?!?!

ㅡ“this one.. it smells like your natural smell...” you mentioned mutely - observing the simple, baby blue stained vase bottle before popping the cap, giving it a whiff and letting out a soft sigh - it smelled like him? “I use it frequently because it smells so good..” you continued thoughtlessly, humming in satisfaction - too caught up in admiring the bottle..

ㅡ“Really? Frequently, huh?” Did you unknowingly out yourself?? maybe. but did it make his heart throb uncomfortably with a disgusting amount of flourishing affection for you? yeah. “If i may, could I explore your collection further?” an idea of using a perfume of yours that smelled akin to you - your natural musk that you coat in perfume that smelled like him.. you offhandedly remark that some bottles may be empty, but the remnants of the scents still linger and excitedly direct him to your shelf dedicated to your collection..

leone;;

ㅡhe was surprisingly unaware about your interestㅡ! news to you since you thought everyone knew, considering the countless random perfume bottles that you occasionally leave out rather carelessly trying to organize something else other than your bottles.. which you only really collect for the bottles rather than scent. you figure he thought they were trish's..?

- he was curious about where you went during your downtime and what exactly you did with your funds.. He wasn’t one to snoop, glancing in ur room like a parent checking on their kid to see if they were alright - no trace of you besides your natural smell.. He opened the door a bit wider - truly, he was not one to snoop actively, but the glint caught his eye,, ur perfume cabinet !! no wonder you smell so good, huh?? He sniffed the one on your bedside - the one that you wore. It smelled exactly like you.. hmm, oh, what he could do with this..? he spritzes his wrists and neck.

ㅡ"the smell of pungent perfumes gives me headaches.” he had waved off the invitation without giving it any thought, despite his heartbeat speeding up at your polite offering hum - did he just,, reject you,,? on accident?! you, understanding, exit stage-left and get ready to leave as you had originally planned.. ugh-!!

ㅡquickly, he goes over everything with bruno, making sure there isn't anything going on, double checking before looking for and finding you about to make your move out of the base - he saunters up to your side, saying something about going in pairs no matter where. excitedly, you lead him to a new antique store that you had been meaning to find the time to go into, hidden amongst the brighter, livelier stores.. what a find!

ㅡhit with the smell of old furniture and .. old carpet. a radio playing Dalida, a song he couldn't recognize except the singer herself.. It was like they sang to you, having immediately navigating your way through the antique store with no trouble and finding the protected bottles among other delicate trinkets. You were so gentle, so soft while handling the glass bottles and observing the intricate designs.. how did he not know?? He knew everything about you practically - but not this?? He curses himself, planning to be more engaged in your interests, or hobbies rather...

ㅡyou direct him elsewhere in the familiar smelling store, merely admiring other oddities and old clothes, before purchasing and leaving with a lavender stained glas bottle with notes that reminded him of a common men's cologne, that reminded you of him, as you told him - saying something along the lines of “wanting to get some that reminds me of the gang!” all cheerfully.. Hrm. he’d much rather you focus on all the aspects of ur hobby that remind you of him,,

mista;;

ㅡhe knew of your hobby,, he just didnt know it was to the extent of having a huge, beautiful shelf dedicated to holding many bottles in ur room - he doesn't pay attention to much else besides daydreaming while breathing in the scent of you while hanging out in your room.. before you invited him out with you in front of the gang. the others, notably narancia and fugo, saying something about the way it'll help the way mista smells - saying it's good that he's going with you to a store dedicated to fragrances..

ㅡto subject himself to such a boring activity - standing near you, bored, as you survey the shelves filled with odd trinkets of an antique store that almost smelled like.. something familiar.. he just couldnt put his finger on it! was this what you did everytime you went to find new additions to your collection?? just stand around, feeling the bottles and practically looking at them with a fucking magnifying glass - it seems like you couldnt care less about the scents. the dedication..

ㅡ “god, look at this-!” you exclaimed, whispering loudly and trembling with excitement, and mista quickly looks around, startled, to see the cause of your boutㅡbefore his gaze falls onto your hands, gently holding a rotund glass bottle with intricate leaves ( insect wings? ) etched onto it with a swan.. on the cap..? “isn't this beautiful?? my gosh - and it's not even that much..”

ㅡmista can't really see the appeal of actually taking time to go into these types of stores and specifically finding perfume bottles - empty or not.. but they appeal to you, and he thinks that's all that really matters as well as spending time with you,, hovering over you uncomfortably close as you take the time to admire the intricately designed and vintage glass bottles, taking a whiff and offering to waft it to him so he doesn't get a headache..

ㅡnsfw;; every time you stood near him - merely passing by, he couldn't get enough of the scent that wafted to his nostrils.. and besides, your shirt was loosing its’ scent anyway! ultimately taking it up a knotch and going into your room to steal a few spritzes of the perfume you wear, ( having a hard time because you had a few bottles in your nightstand for decoration - him, having to go through all three hurriedly sniffing..)

-spraying an article of clothing he stole from your room.. a miscellaneous item really, one that he was sure you wouldn't care about, with the use of sex pistols,, hushing them as they slowly pull the article into his hands from your room in the darkness of the hallway - it ultimately ends up with him edging himself while huffing the faint scent of the perfume from ur shirt,, before he can't hold it anymore - the smell and knowing you wore this shirt gets to him, releasing all over himself. hmggh

narancia;;

ㅡengrossed in your hobby as you were. you weren't worried that he would break something - having enough trust in him to treat your things with care. which he does-! utterly, completely focused and firmly holding whatever it is hes holding as he admires the designs along the various perfume and cologne bottles that admittedly look old and in his opinion, did not fit you.. but to each their own, he supposes..

ㅡoften indulges himself in smelling them... you offer him a strip of paper with a scent of the day - every day. it's his favorite! sometimes waiting by your door or taking it upon himself to sit in your room for your awakening just to inquire about it.. he wants to be more appealing to you, and what better way than engaging in ur hobby??

ㅡgives himself headaches just from trying to smell all of ur bottles, some that may not even have the fragrance inside,, merely the remnants. you scold him often,, telling him that you don't want him to hurt himself over merely smelling them, before giving him the ones that aren't prone to giving you headaches - so why would they give narancia headaches??

ㅡexperimentally inhaling the fragrance deeply - unconcerned with himself - grinning giddily as he realizes it smells like arancia.. it must remind you of him, no?? why have so many that smell like orange if not?? dont tell him its because the bottles are pretty, he knows the truth.. filled with an overbearing amount of affection, and comes off a little too forward as he continues conversation, questioning you about your favorites which you inevitably tell him your favorite bottle and offering him your favorite scent by saying “smell.” and offering your wrist to himㅡshowcasing mint, petitgrain and inevitably orange..

ㅡusing a bit of his allowance to surprise you with a men's cologne that was sure to earn him a hug, no?? it was a little plain, yeah, sure but its the thought that counts - Fugo and Bruno told him so. and of course you were ecstatic,, a little. happy to have a new addition to your shelves, you suppose - asking where he got it from since it was nothing like you ever smelled besides on Narancia,,

ㅡobviously he would want you to have one that he uses. just to have. amiright??? just to have.. and occasionally spray ur room with it so you would instinctively think of him… no other reaosn. maybe

fugo;;

ㅡperfumes.. it was definitely interesting to him. he'd think about it, often, and admire the cabinet full of the bottles - some empty, all just for show - except one, you would show him, it was a smaller case, in the shape of a key. “this one.. it smells so good..” you offer the lid to him, and he finds it to be the scent of you he'd become infatuated with. what was that.. notes of coffee beans, almond, and sea salt, is what he identifies right off the bat.. hrrmmm,,, god if he could just bury his nose in ur neck and inhale and hold you into his chest,, still, he doesnt know if you feel the same way. he would have to hold himself and comfort himself with daydreams while biting on your pencil.

ㅡdespite him often enjoying you talk about your thoughts on every bittle you have, he found that you enjoyed when he would review them.. giving each one his honest thoughts and rating,,.. picking up a small bottle with pearl-like dots decorating the edges with a burgundy red fragrance sloshing around.. “that one.. just reminds me of strawberries. and well.. you know.. strawberries remind me of you in general. but this scent reminds me of youㅡ!!” you would tell him, trembling in excitement as you gently grab a small vial - reminiscent of the victorian tear catcher..

ㅡhe'd gently complain after smelling all the ones you offered him, you, more happy than anything to share your interest with fugo, which he could see as plain as day and couldnt help but feel giddy himself - coming off as an angry flustered more than shy as he would like,,

ㅡyou would often invite him out, fugo gladly joining you - eager to spend time with you however you wanna spend it, and offering to lead you to antique stores of his own, secretly excited to show off to you now that he's much aware about your interests.. he remembers which ones have perfumes and colognes at the like - or merely glass bottles which you were eager to welcome into your collection..

giorno;;

ㅡyou were the one that actually welcomed him with welcome arms besides mother bruno, and after a while he found himself sticking close to you simply due to your kind nature and rather open personality.. he had actual feelings for you that he had to acknowledge, and he'd indefinitely work up the nerve to confess, but in the meantime, he'd dedicate his free time to spending it with you no matter what.. no matter if it was simply organizing, listening to you talk, or trying to mediate you after worrying about broken glass after one slipped from your hands one without fragrance - thankfully. yet, you cried.. he was full of merriment, happy to console and hold you, patting you on the back a little lamely..

ㅡfinds the overbearing smell a little repugnant after willing himself to sniff several - and tells you this, earnestly in a polite manner. “i don't know how you do it..” he would joke lamely, a smile painted on his lips. “i admire the bottles.. that's all there is to it. only one will i actually use..” you would retort with a hint of bitterness to his surprise.. what's with the hostility???

ㅡultimately, saving up a bit of his money just to gift you a gorgeous looking bottle he found hidden in an antique store that he found around the outskirts - one that looked similar to your collection already with curves and intricate divots - one he was sure that would gain your affection??..

post- ( everyone lives :3 )

ㅡproud of himself, now that he has the resources to truly fund your hobby.. ultimately wants to impress ‐ kinda like a peacock! trying to flaunt himself to you almost while simultaneously running passione.. dedicating a room full of shelves, protected to the fullest with bolted cabinets that were sure not to tremble with footsteps nearby..

ㅡoften having himself accompany you to these antique stores you love so much - asking why exactly you don't want the most recent fragrance and you have to carefully remind him that it's the bottles that appeal to you, worn and used delicately and now passed onto you by fate :p

ㅡhas a few people go raid a few stores that he's sure you have not explored, buying them out and surprising you with a shelves full of new additions to which you excitedly admire the room.. a little inconvenient, but at the same time it's so wonderful,, how could you not fall for him, right??? right.,,,???

i feel so awkward tagging hnnghhgmm

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