"Can You Please Stop Moving Your Mouth, So I Can Kiss You?" For Giorno And Fugo, Plz?

"Can you please stop moving your mouth, so I can kiss you?" for Giorno and Fugo, plz?

"Can you please stop moving your mouth, so I can kiss you?"

Fandom: JoJo's Bizarre Adventure

Character(s): Pannacotta Fugo, Giorno Giovanna

Type of Request: Headcanons

Note(s): Whenever I get a Giorno request it's always a debate of "is he a sweet prince or a fucking gremlin like his dad?"

Fugo

That's honestly enough to get him to freeze as he processes what you just said. Which gives you enough time to press a kiss to his mouth.

He enjoys the kiss, he does, but as soon as you pull away he's going to be grumpy.

Fugo was in the middle of scolding you about something and now he doesn't even remember what. And now he knows this is going to go to your head.

He's now going to scold you about how this isn't going to work everytime. You're not going to get out of lectures just by kissing him. (it will and you can)

Giorno

His eyes widen a bit in surprise at your statement before he quickly moves out of the way to miss your lips. He chuckles and continues talking about whatever it was.

You think you were being smooth, but Giorno isn't going to let you get the upper hand. You'll get a kiss when he's done talking. Until then, just pout at the smile he sends you.

Of course, he doesn't like you being annoyed or upset at him for long so he'll take a break with what he was saying, probably asking you what it is you wanted, and giving you a kiss.

Giorno can't help but be a bit smug at the teasing he gave you, but he does enjoy kissing you too so he'll apologize for being a menace and give you a few more kisses.

GIVE YOURSELF TO ME — JOHNNY JOESTAR

summary, teasing johnny was your favorite thing ever, so you decided to test his patience. aka johnny is a slut for u

content, johnny/gn reader, 18+!!, nipple play, handjob, dom reader, teasing, pwop, anal fingering, licking, mocking?, no actual sex, implied dildo usage at the end.

note, omg i hope the forbidden fruit things do not sound cringy😭 UGH THE ANAL PART I HATE SOOOO MUCH

word count, 818

soft moans escaped his mouth as your delicate fingers played with johnny’s nipple. on johnny’s bed the both of you were sitting, johnny in front of you moaning non-stop, one hand was pinching his nipples whilst the other was slithering down from his belly to his waist, to the waistband of his boxers. fiddling with the waistband your hand went down to his inner thigh but quickly went back up, as if it had found the forbidden fruit and contemplated eating it. johnny whined at this, he unexpectedly grabbed your hand and put it on the base of his dick.

frustrated, you bit down on his neck. leaving dark hickeys which caught him off guard, he let go of the grip he had on your hand and you took that as your opportunity to see him in just his boxers.

“take off your pants, johnny,” you said sternly, frustrated by johnny’s act of disobedience.

you had finally given in to the forbidden fruit as johnny slid down his pants shyly, you felt as if you struck gold once you saw his raging boner and pre-cum stains on his boxer. your hand massaged his balls softly. but, his boxers weren’t off yet, teasing him more you began playing with his dick with his boxers on. at first, johnny was confused but then when he realized your teasing antics he begged for your touch.

“please, y/n! please just take them off! he squirmed under your touch, trying to take off his boxers himself.

as much as you loved your boyfriend, it was such a great sight to behold seeing him like this. a mess under your touch, begging for you to properly touch him. although his whines were like a drug to your ears you wanted to have a bit more fun until you properly touched him. his moans were too hot to listen for you to stop.

“i promise, johnny. i promise i’ll take them off, just be patient,” you whispered in his ear, your warm breath on johnnys neck catching him off guard.

you couldn’t explain how adorable johnny was when he was surprised, or just how adorable he was when he was submissive in general.

your hands crawled up to the base of his dick, partially giving him what he had been begging for. your hand swiftly moved up and down johnnys clothed dick, his moans getting louder and louder. seeing that he liked this, you decided to lick the back of his shoulder, slobbering and kissing the star-shaped birthmark which you adored. after a while your hands had done enough, so to finish him off you went quicker, the speed of his moans pacing up as your hands became rougher and rougher, practically urging him to cum. after a while he finally did, his liquid squirting everywhere.

“your so good johnny, you know that?” you whispered in his ear, hugging him tightly you began to lick his neck.

johnny said nothing of this, other than a few whimpers. your tongue went up and down and back up again repeatedly, after a few minutes of licking him you wanted more action, you got up and grabbed a bottle of lube on his nightstand, you squeezed out the product onto your hand, and approached johnny.

“lie down, johnny.” you mumbled.

although he could barely hear what you said but he got the memo from the lube in your hand and the mischievous grin on your face. so he did so quickly, submitting to you in a way you’ve never seen him do before.

“spread your legs f’me…” you commanded.

although his face was red and he was very obviously embarrassed, he did as he was told and spread his legs wide open for you with content written all over your face, you put some lube in him and then on your fingers, as you stuck two of your fingers in johnny let out the loudest moan you’ve heard throughout the night.

“damn johnny! are you trying to let the whole world know how much you love my fingers?” you mocked, letting out a laugh at his embarrassed face once he realized how loud his moan was.

“shut up…” johnny whimpered.

pushing your fingers in and out of his ass. johnny seemed to love your fingers, as his moans grew louder and louder as his back was arching more and more.

you decide to have some fun and see how he reacted to his prostate being unexpectedly touched, as sensitive as johnny was you didn’t expect johnny to cum an entire river. when you finally curved your fingers and found it. johnny huffed and drooled all over himself after a while of playing with his ass.

“oh johnny, prepare yourself. im gonna have so much fun playing with you” you mumbled under your breath. grabbing a certain genital-shaped object from his closet that you were planning to use on him for hours upon end.

Why Don’t we do it in the Road?

↳ Johnny Joestar x Fem!Reader: Afab!Reader; uses she/her pronouns. Is implied to be American(?)

Summary: You used to think that the numerous amount of stand attacks endured during the Steel Ball Run, after a certain point, prepared you for anything. One unassuming journey along a dirt road throws that idea out the window. Apparently you were wrong. So very wrong.

A/n: Johnny Joestar crying during sex is canon I’m Araki’s consciousness. Happy kinktober everyone! Although I don’t post daily for the month, I knew I wanted to write something spicy for the special occasion. I hope y’all enjoy, and make sure to eat your veggies. <3

Warning(s): NSFW content. Outdoor sex; fingering; wholesome sex? Johnny’s pent up and a bit needy. Canon-typical swearing.

“I’m telling you, this is the way to go!” The taller blonde further ahead of you insists for what must be the fourth time already. He shakes the map he’s holding, using his free hand to obnoxiously jab at the route he’s vouching for.

The other blonde sighs and takes a pause in order to shut his eyes. With the same patronizing- yet subdued -frustration one would give to a unruly child, he responds, “It certainly is an option. That is, if you wanna fall behind.”

“Who died and gave you the right to pick our route?! We’re not reaching the next corpse part for at least two weeks, so, until we get close I’ll decide!”

“S’not about who decides! Stop bein’ a baby and listen to my words!”

“I’m not being a baby! You’re the one who started having a fit about the route in the first place.”

“Because it’s bullshit!”

Five minutes… you cringe, They’ve been going at it for five minutes.

Following around the eccentric Gyro Zeppeli and former jockey Johnny Joestar throughout the arduous Steel Ball Run has taught you much. Being able to keep up with them boosts both your pride and your own placement in the ranks. And the seedy underbelly of the race itself adds a degree of danger that glues the three of you together almost at all times.

Still, no amount of dirty tricks from rivals and life-threatening stand attacks make you feel less useless in the face of Johnny and Gyro when they argue.

“I think you’re underestimating the value of being able to ride on a road for once,” Gyro continues, voice thick with annoyance.

“As nice as that’d be, innit better to not make us feel as though we have to follow a road? Besides, less people will take the other way which means there’s less of a chance of runnin’ into trouble,” Johnny pushes further, trying in vain for Gyro to at least admit there’s logic in his point of view.

“Those areas are the trouble, Johnny!” Gyro waves his hands in the air, “You’re basically asking us all to run straight into a death-trap. I don’t wanna die- oi, Y/n! Do you wanna die?”

You lift your head, startled by your sudden inclusion in the conversation. The sarcasm in Gyro’s voice almost let you hope he was joking. But the two men continue to wordlessly stare at you, awaiting a response.

“W-Well-…”

“C’mon, doll, don’t go entertainin’ him,” Johnny pleads with a sigh.

You feel a warmth engulf your chest at the pet name. It’s unclear to you exactly when Johnny started calling you that- probably not long after Gyro kept referring to you as things like ‘bambina’ and ‘cara.’ The Italian’s teasing antics are certainly sweet, but never something you think to take seriously.

As for Johnny, the way he interjects his chosen nickname for you into even the heaviest of moments gives you a degree of belief in its sincerity. And in times like this, when just an utter of it leaving his baby blue lips makes you swoon, you have to wonder if he knows the true extent of how much it gets to you.

“I-I…” you swallow a tiny collection of spit down your throat, “Y’know I haven’t even seen the map much. But if the mountainside is truly as dangerous as Gyro says-“

Johnny groans, head falling backwards while the man beside him shows off his golden grills via a wide smile.

“-then maybe we ought to continue on with the route he picked. Plus, I’d assume it’d be best for the horses. But most importantly, we need to decide quick and get moving. We’re wasting time just sitting around like this.”

“Ha!” Gyro exclaims, shoving his map back into the safety of one of his bags. “You heard the lady, Johnny, stop trying to pick a fight and let’s get moving!”

“Hey, hey… that’s not what I was trying to-“

Gyro cuts you off with the crack of Valkyrie’s reigns, and the horse takes off in the direction he had decided on. His speed makes you abandon your words. In one swift motion, both Johnny and you are quick to follow.

Approaching him close enough to catch a glimpse of his face, you spot a controlled look on Johnny’s face. His lack of further comments indicate the subject is dropped, but you figure the darkness surrounding his eyes betray that. He keeps his gaze stubbornly locked forward, not giving you the satisfaction of knowing whether or not he senses your eyes on him.

A sigh leaves your lips, along with the turn of your head.

He just needs a little peace and quiet to get over it, you reckon. Give it less than ten minutes and Johnny’ll accept the circumstances. That’s just how both him and Gyro are.

That needed peace and quiet is exactly what Johnny gets as the whole group travels forward. And a few minutes pass before reaching Gyro’s much anticipated dirt road.

The grasslands you’d been traveling through were relatively flat; enough for easy travel. Add mountains littered across the horizon and the area is actually quite scenic. However, the grass itself is long and unkept. It’s unclear what kind of critters or large rocks keep hidden within the green meadow, making it a little dangerous for the horses.

That’s why, in Gyro’s perspective at least, taking the road is a no-brainer. It’s narrow and not exactly even on the edges, but it’s enough stable ground that allows for everyone’s speed to increase without worry.

After taking a dramatically-curved left turn, a large tree poking out from the grass comes into view. The base of the plant is twisted and thick with age, branches dipping over the road a good meter-length. It casts a shade on light brown dirt, turning it instead into a pathetic grey color.

Once the tree came within the range of Johnny’s Tusk, Gyro guides Valkyrie to the right and off the road without a word. He instead rides adjacent to it, throwing the oak a passing glance. Being the tallest of the group, ducking wouldn’t do much for him when trying to avoid the tree’s low-hanging branches.

You and Johnny both continue on the road, ducking nearly in tandem right before passing underneath.

Just as you and your horse line up perfectly underneath the tree’s shade, something smacks you straight across the face. Not literally, especially seeing as your beloved horse appears thoroughly unaffected by it.

It’s a… smell. The worse smell that’s ever found its way into your nostrils.

You pull on the reigns attached to your horse, abruptly stopping yourself. Upon reflex, your body convulses and tears begin welling up inside your eyes. Jerking forward, a string of coughs escape you. With the violent fit you’re going though, you’re more than sure your face is beat red.

“H-Hey-“

Between your own burst of coughs, you hear Johnny stutter. You manage a quick glance in his direction, enough to see he’s also stopped himself and wrapped his arm around his face. He holds it out in front of his mouth in a vain attempt at muffling the sound of his own coughs.

Good to know it wasn’t just me who smelled that, you try thinking positively.

A few meters ahead, Gyro stops himself as well. Whirling Valkyrie around, his eyes widen upon seeing both you and Johnny coughing up a storm. A smile creeps its way on his face before returning to the road and making his way to where the two of you are resting.

“Oi! You two better not be getting sick on me,” he jests, keeping in good spirits.

“So you’re-“ Johnny pauses, letting out three more hearty coughs, “-You’re telling me you didn’t smell that?”

“Smell what?” he inquires, head tilting to the side.

“You’re kidding,” Johnny scoffs, eyebrows furrowing.

You wipe your eyes, shutting them tight in an attempt to muscle away the disturbance in your nostrils. Blinking a good dozen of times, you will yourself into keeping your eyes open despite a few more coughs bubbling within your lungs. Looking up at Gyro, you elaborate, “It was this- this… abominable smell. Like bile and horse crap mixed within the insides of a rotten fish.”

“Worse than that,” Johnny nods, “But it’s probably the best way to describe it.”

Gyro twists his face in disgust. “Is this… some kind of nutty American joke? If so, it’s not very funny.”

“Shut up; your jokes are far worse,” Johnny snaps, “And it’s no prank.”

“Give us some credit, here, we could come up with something better than that,” you try to convince him, not missing the tiny grin Johnny shoots your way.

“Well, joke or no joke, it’s over,” Gyro decides upon taking note of the lack of coughs coming from the both of you. “Let’s get moving. Oh, and Johnny- you’re full of shit; I know you love my jokes.”

You share a glance with Johnny before trudging onwards. His expression is once again unreadable. It’s hardly ever possible to fully grasp what goes behind those lovely blue irises of his, but one thing is abundantly clear:

He knows as well as you that sensation of smell was not at all normal.

While making your way down the road, the idea is once again dropped. It fills you with unease that everyone, yourself included, collectively disregarded what you and Johnny experienced. Still, you see no need to bring it up again. No reason to be hung up on it, when the event occurred an uncountable number of meters behind you.

No, instead, you let your gaze fall onto Johnny here and there. His image is… grounding. Yeah, that’s it. Something along those lines is what you decide to tell yourself. Besides, letting your eyes wander towards him is quite normal in of itself, considering your unspoken interest in the jockey.

Then your glances began lingering for longer than you’d care to admit.

Realistically, how could you think to blame yourself? He has perfect form while riding Slow Dancer; a model racer. But more than that, the curve of his lower back catches your attention more than ever before. He’s got an hour-glass figure, no question. Skinny with enough upper body strength to subtly define his torso and arms. But the curve of his ass is naturally pronounced as well.

And it’s not like you haven’t noticed that before. It’s just… you can’t help yourself right now. Something about the structure of his body is making you want to hold your gaze on him, biting your lower lip and feeling an ounce of desire ripple down to your lower half…

Wait- what? you blink, quickly shaking your head. You will your gaze away from him, looking down at your horse with a complicated expression on your face.

Yes, his physical beauty is something you’ve long recognized, but it’s not like you to gawk at him so… shamelessly. The realization makes warmth rise to your face.

Lost in your frantic state of mind, you steel a glance in his direction once more. Only to be taken aback by locking onto his eyes; he’d already been looking at you. At the same time, you both look away.

“We need to take a pause,” Johnny suddenly speaks up, stopping his pace once more. “I-…”

He cuts off his words, keeping his head hung low. You and Gyro stop your horses, gazes both locked on your friend.

“What is it now?” Gyro huffs, letting out an annoyed groan.

“I don’t-…” Johnny’s grip on Slow Dancer’s reigns tighten to the point where his knuckles become white. “I-I just need to stop; I’m feeling a bit sick.”

The tone of his voice… it makes your heart stop beating momentarily. Oh, god…. something is definitely wrong here, is all you can think.

“What?” Gyro questions, “Is this about that smell again?”

“I don’t know!” Johnny shouts, the volume of his voice taking him by surprise just as much as it does you and Gyro.

The older man lets out a sigh, gaze traveling across the horizon line. You watch him carefully, a pit forming deep within your stomach.

Gyro’s eyes widen after finally turning to his left. He then narrows them, trying to catch glimpse of something in the distance. His arm twitches, a battle instinct of his that causes you to instinctively glance down to a steel ball contained within his holster.

“Stay here,” he mutters, tone dangerously low.

“Gyro… what’s-“

“Just stay here! Keep your ears open in case I call for you!” he shouts, jumping down from Valkyrie. “Until then watch over Johnny! I’m figuring this out right now!”

With that, Gyro runs off. His figure continues to travel through the tall grass, until he’s nowhere to be seen. Glancing over at Johnny, you’re once again startled upon immediately meeting his blue eyes.

***

Something is wrong. Something is fundamentally, inexplicably out of sync.

Johnny and you have both descended from your horses, sitting together on the left side of the road for god knows how long. The movement of his horse was making him even more queasy, according to Johnny.

Worrying about what Gyro may be getting himself caught up in at the moment crosses your mind. But a muffled environment around you, as if you’d stuck cotton into your ears, makes you question if you’d even hear Gyro if he finally did call out to you.

And that, in of itself, is worrying enough.

Johnny keeps insisting that he’s sick; he’s not feeling well. But you’ve felt his forehead three times now. You’ve pulled every trick you know in order to get a read on his health. You wish Gyro was here; unsure why the doctor of the group ran away from a sick friend. The only thing you can gather- is that Johnny’s nervous.

The unwillingness to look you in eye…. flushed cheeks… dragging himself away every time you draw near…

It’s all so unlike him, but regardless, your mind is far too preoccupied to verbally take note.

Namely, your distracted over how irresistible he looks. Sitting down next to you on the road, chest rising and falling with an unidentified worry. It’s wrong… some sane, humane part of your brain recognizes that fact. And luckily, that’s the part of you that’s winning the battle.

“Don’t worry, Johnny,” you try to comfort him, keeping yourself from reaching out and placing a hand on his shoulder. “Gyro… seemed to have at least found… or rather, he’s understood something about our situation.”

“It’s not… it’s not natural…” he breathes, head leaning backward. His adams apple is on full display, enough to prompt you trail your eyes across his exposed skin. “This… erm- sickness is nothing natural. He better be figuring something out…”

“I know he is; you have faith in him too right? We know Gyro… he won’t let us down; not when your health is on the line.”

Johnny’s affliction was flung upon him so fast it’s hard not to worry. Nothing has ever happened so suddenly throughout the duration of your journey without it having not been the work of some terrorist. Gyro’s haste had been the final nail in the coffin. No, something’s definitely wrong. You feel it deep within your bones.

“Yeah… yeah… you can always rely on him,” he mutters. There’s an underlying bitterness in his tone that confuses you.

“Johnny…?” you ask, uncertain of what your line of questioning should be. Still, your compelled to speak his name.

His head moves down, blue eyes meeting your own. You open your mouth to continue, but nothing leaves your lips. Still, he proceeds to stare as if your not choking on the words.

Blonde hair rests on his shoulders so elegantly your heart swells with affection. It frames his angular face perfectly, and only leads one to wonder what else he keeps hidden underneath a baby blue stocking cap. He’s beautiful, god, he’s beautiful.

And it’s just now you notice your racing heartbeat. But it’s nothing you get hung up on, not when him just looking at you makes you instinctively press your thighs together. Johnny bites his lower lip, eyes traveling down your body for a split second.

The two of you sit and stare at one another for moments longer. Any other day of the week you’d likely get shy… you’d feel self conscious due to the obvious gaze glued on you. But for some inexplicable reason, it doesn’t today. You don’t even feel awkward.

No… it would be accurate to say that right now… things are working a bit differently.

Because the veins visible from within his hands… legs spread out and laid lazy on messy dirt… blue lips that have the perfect kissable curvature are taking your imagination on a ride. Now, more than ever, you want to lean forward. Selfishly take what you’ve been wanting for over two months now.

His lips would be soft, no doubt. Although closed off, as a former star, Johnny’s experience is apparent. In every sense of the word. If he kissed you, here and now, you wouldn’t be satisfied without pressing your tongue against his. An image is painted clearly inside your mind, irresistible and enticing in ways you’ve hardly let yourself indulge in before. The lipstick stains across your face would be indisputable proof that he’d been there, and thus you’d wait to wipe it off.

Maybe you’d get the chance to press yourself against him. Move your hands underneath his blue top, feel lean muscles underneath. Trace your fingertips across sensitive skin, until trailing downwards. Teasing him to the point where he’d whimper straight into your mouth, hips lightly bucking in need. You’d wait just a moment longer before giving in slightly. Hand gently pressing on the hardened space between his legs.

Oh, the thought’s too dangerous to play around with. It makes your brain feel light and fuzzy. By now, if Gyro was calling for you now, you likely wouldn’t recognize his voice even if you could hear it. Even your own horse looks completely like a strange creature you’ve never once before looked upon.

Caught up in a sea of enticing thoughts, your eyes travel downwards to that coveted area where you’d love to tease. To your initial disbelief, and then following excitement, you notice an unmistakable tent poking from the confines of his pants.

You’d think he’d be embarrassed because of this shameless action. But because of (or in spite of) your unapologetic staring he manually moves his leg so that his hard-on is even more pronounced and visible to you.

Meeting his gaze once more, his eyes soften. And despite catching him in a lewd state, you oddly feel at ease staring at the one person around you still can recognize. Instead of feeling embarrassed or uneasy, your body feels light as a feather. In the softness of his attention, you feel safe.

“I need to tell you somethin’, doll…” he whispers, voice only partly pulling you from enjoyably fuzzy thoughts. “But please… whatever you do, don’t tell Gyro.”

“Okay…” you slowly nod.

He leans forward, grabbing a hold of your hand. His expression darkens, a frown playing on his lips. “I’m serious. Don’tcha ever tell him ‘bout this…”

You clench your teeth together, once again giving him a patient nod. “I understand. Tell me what’s wrong, Johnny.”

“I-…” he hesitates, looking away from you. “I was being dishonest before… I don’t feel right, but not in the way I’ve led you to believe… I… I do think it’s got something to do with that smell. It’s all started with that.”

“Do you think this is some kind of stand attack?” you ask, as if that possibility isn’t pretty much universally accepted already.

“Yes, but that’s not what ‘m getting at…” he shakes his head, squeezing your hand. “I-…”

“Go ahead and say it, Johnny…”

“I’m… I’m horny, doll,” he says outright, cheeks turning pink.

It takes everything within you not to respond “I can tell.”

“I-I couldn’t say it at first…” he huffs out a breath of air, a vain attempt at a chuckle. “How could I? But I… I saw you, uh…”

“You saw me notice your…” you pause, startled by your own surge of confidence. His bluntness inclines you to want to match that forwardness. “Your arousal?”

“I’m sorry,” he pulls his hand away quickly, as if it’d been burned. Johnny pulls it up to his face, covering half from view. “You must think so lowly of me right now… must think ‘m some kind of pervert. I swear I didn’t… I weren’t tryin’ to be… it just happened…“

“You must be very disappointed in yourself,” you bluntly finish for him, rising to your knees.

He hesitates. If it’s possible for his face to grow any redder, it certainly does. Johnny watches your movements like a hawk, as you shuffle yourself closer to his left side.

“Even if it’s the result of some twisted stand attack… you must feel lots of shame for getting so worked up,” you continue, glancing down between his legs once more.

“I-…” he chokes out, using his free hand in order to cover his crotch as best he can.

“Say it, Johnny…” you whisper, half-lidded eyes slowly moving up his hips and torso. “You’re embarrassed aren’t you?”

“Y-Yes… ‘m very embarrassed.”

“You wish it weren’t me you were with right now?”

“Well, I dunno if-“

“Johnny…” you stop him, swinging a leg over both his and setting yourself down comfortably on his lap. Despite the position you’ve taken, you don’t reach out a hand to touch him. “I’m inclined to believe it’s because of that stench too… after all…” you lean down, lips brushing against his ear as you whisper, “You have to remember that I smelled it to…”

“You mean you…” he swallows a heavy lump within his throat, both hands kept securely at his sides. “You also feel this way?”

A smile finds its way onto your face, pulling away from his ear. Looking him in the eye, you rock your hips against his once. The reaction on his face is enough to send more wetness pooling into your undergarments. His eyebrows raise, mouth hanging open in utter disbelief.

“Would you like to find out for yourself?” you ask, answering his question with your own.

“I-I think I’d like to but…” he leans back, a disappointed expression spread across his face. It makes your heart sink. “I can’t imagine it’d be very fun for you given the state ‘m in.”

Even now, when arousal is so high his body is as unfocused as a feather blowing in the breeze. Even now, as your straddling him. Even now, after you’ve pressed yourself against him, Johnny has to take note of what he thinks to be one of his greatest shortcomings.

“Johnny… no, that’s not true at all…” you shake your head.

He refuses to look into your eyes, though. Dead-set on believing he couldn’t ever satisfy you in his current condition.

However, you’re having none of it.

You reach both hands out, moving purposefully slow. Cupping both his cheeks, you guide his face to line up with your own and forcing him to look directly at you.

You take a moment to admire his facial features. His blue eyes are hesitant, but are hopeful given the new sensation of your gentle touch. His lips are slightly parted, teeth barely visible. You can’t help but gawk at the shape of his lips. Now that you’ve moved closer to him than you ever have before, they appear even softer than earlier.

Testing the waters, you rock your hips against his once more. Then you do it again… and again… and again until you’ve created a slow yet steady rhythm. His lips part even further, taking in a sharp breath.

“I want this, Johnny,” you confirm, speaking lowly, “Even… even if it weren’t the work of a stand I still would.”

His eyes widen at your confession, opening his mouth further. He’s cut off by another roll of your hips, biting down on his lower lip in order to stifle a soft groan.

Touched by your words, he lifts a hand and cups your cheek. Something within his eyes change. It’s not exactly the same, but akin to what Gyro refers to as his ‘dark determination.’ It’s silently dangerous, but alluring in the sense that he’s alone with you and only you.

“Then…” he mumbles, his thumb thoughtfully brushing against your lower lip. He doesn’t take the time to finish his thought, instead, he closes the space between you and presses his lips against yours.

The kiss starts off gentle, but it isn’t long before it evolves into something more desperate. The pace is quick and heat rises within your body after each kiss he gives you. Continue to grind yourself on him, you relish in the sweet sighs he releases against your lips.

With the hand not already preoccupied with cupping your jaw, he grips your thigh in a tight hold. His strength is something you’ve only witnessed from the sidelines, but now he’s exposing it to you personally by guiding your hips against his own roughly.

It feels good; too good to be real. You have to reach out a hand and grip onto his hoodie in order to fully believe that Johnny Joestar is really kissing you. And judging by his vigor- he’s enjoying it.

The fact alone would be enough to make your head spin, but the full effect of the mysterious stand power is being unleashed. As if everything else around you doesn’t matter, it seemingly all melts away. Quite literally, in fact. Your vision narrows, and the only thing you care to see is Johnny. The only other thing keeping you attached to the earth is the ground beneath you.

He breaks his mouth away from yours, panting as he trails kisses along your jaw. There’s no doubt blue lipstick is smeared across both your faces, and just the thought alone sends your mind into a frenzy. Then, he moves to the space just beneath your jaw, where it meets with your neck. He eagerly bites and sucks at the spot. You lean your head back, giving him better access.

Johnny grunts as a thanks, planting several kisses around your neck. He pauses at certain areas, sucking lightly on chosen spots.

You let out a breathy sigh, hands flying to the ends of his blonde hair. They travel upwards, slipping underneath his cap and tugging at his scalp. In one swift motion, you toss the hat off his head and let it fall onto the road beside you.

“Mhmh,” he groans in response to another tug at his hair, “Doll, lemme touch you… please, I wanna touch you.”

“Yes,” you reply before you can even fully process his request, “Please do…”

He doesn’t need to be told twice. With your help, he pulls your bottoms down to your ankles. It takes longer than you’d like for you to kick the clothing off while still wearing your riding boots, but soon it’s discarded and your back on his lap in no time.

His lips eagerly attach to your neck once more, hand trailing up your inner thigh appreciatively. The movement is painfully slow, but he soon reaches the cloth of your panties. Through the fabric, he lets out a moan at the feeling of your wetness seeping through. Shifting his fingertips upwards ever so slightly, he rubs circles around your clit through the material.

“J-Johnny…” you moan, slapping a hand to your mouth to keep yourself silent.

“Say my name like that again…” he beckons, voice low. “Don’t silence yourself.”

With one more rotation around your clit, you move your hand away from your mouth and shakily moan his name.

“That’s it, baby…” he sighs, pulling your panties to the side. One swipe of his finger across your wetness and he lets out another hushed moan. Without any layers in the way, he brings his finger back to your clit and slowly rubs the sensitive bud.

He pulls his lips away from your neck, pulling you back into another kiss. As his experienced hand works on sending ripples of pleasure throughout your lower half, his tongue slips into your mouth with ease. It dances around yours with care, but his neediness is still evident in the kisses he presses to your lips. The sound of heated, open mouth kisses fill the area, but that fact hardly goes noticed by either of you.

His finger moves downward from your clit, slowly pressing inside you with a curl once fully pushed in your clenching walls. The expertise of his finger pumping inside you is so evident it almost comes across as effortless.

Although it’s been years since he’s been with anyone, you ignited instincts within him he’d long assumed would remain dormant for the rest of his life.

“J-Johnny…” you groan against his mouth, mind completely devoid of anything other than him. Maybe if your mind were clearer, you’d assume that this was the whole point of the stand attack. To leave you both completely distracted.

But as soon as Johnny adds another finger, you’re too far gone and fully swept up in the moment. Judging by the tent protruding from his star-covered pants, he’s in the same boat as you.

“Baby, baby…” he moves his lips to the right side of your face, gently biting at your ear. “I need you… right now. No one’ll be watchin’ us, doll, I promise.”

You moan, only able to nod and buck your hips into the thrusts of his hand in response.

“You’d like that wouldn’t you? For me to take you right here?”

Although your mind is too fogged with pleasure to respond, his words still manage to stir more excitement within you. Using actions instead of words, you reach a hand down to feel him through his pants. He moans, bucking his hips greedily at the sensation. The two of you match each other’s pace, moving your hips and hands in tandem.

Impatience gets the better of him, though, as he soon pulls both digits out of you in order to shimmy out of both his pants and underwear. You take the time to also get rid of your panties as well. You even help him lay down his discarded clothing beneath him, in a pitiful attempt at keeping dirt out of unwanted places.

Giving him a smile, he returns the gesture right before wrapping his arms around you and gladly leading you into another heated kiss. Rocking your bare core against his hardened length, a mess of moans escape the both of you.

As you move your hips, you take a hold of his dick and slowly pump your hand up and down. He moans louder at the contact, throwing his head backwards.

“P-Please…” he whines, helplessly bucking into your hand.

As you stroke him, you press the tip inside you. You continue the action until you sink into him far enough to where your hand can’t do much more. Moving downwards just a little more, the entirety of him is pressed inside your heat.

His eyes pop open, wide and seeing stars. He’d almost forgotten what it’s like to be intimate with someone, and it being you that’s willing to fuck him in such a exposing setting adds another layer of pleasure that turns him into a bumbling mess.

“O-Oh, god…” he breathes, hands fumbling around your frame until finally landing on both sides of your upper thighs.

With the balance provided by your knees digging into harsh ground below, you slowly begin to move up and down on his length. A prolonged moan leaves you, holding onto his shoulders for support.

“Johnny… you…” you sigh, “Oh, Johnny, you feel so good…”

“Mmh… please don’t stop… I’ll know it’s not a dream if you don’t stop…” he blabbers, face contorted in pleasure.

“It’s real… I’m here,” you assure him softly as you continue your movements. Bringing your hands up to his jaw, you guide his head forward and press your forehead against his. “I-I’m here…” you repeat, planting a handful of lazy kisses to his lips.

“Mmh- yes-“ he whines against your lips, his grip on your thighs tightening. Showing off his strength once more, he coaxes you into increasing your pace with the force of his hands. “I’m inside you… not anyone else… not that Gyro… just me and no one else…”

That’s when you finally get it.

Although the stand certainly stirred both of you into needing relief, and his own deprivation of sex is also a factor, the true reason behind his desperation is now clear. If only for a second, you think back to your debate earlier. When you’d taken Gyro’s side instead of Johnny’s, and when he had that dark look on his face as a result. Hell, there’d been other times when you were goofing around with Gyro and Johnny’d become noticeably quiet.

He was jealous. He’s been jealous of the friendship you have with Gyro for a long time.

You’re eager to match the pace he wants to set, the sound of skin slapping against skin pushing through gasps for air and strings of moans. Even with the quickened pace, he makes sure he’s pressed as deep as he can go with each thrust. Hitting a sweet spot deep inside from time to time.

All while Johnny can’t keep his mouth shut for a single moment.

“Fuck- I need this so bad… the way you tighten around me I know you do too…”

“Look at me, doll… I wanna see your eyes…”

“Don’t stop, don’t stop, don’t stop, don’t stop-“

His words and the eagerness of his hands slamming you down onto him over and over build pressure within you. Tightening around his cock, your eyes flutter shut in concentration as you near your climax.

“Johnny, I’m… I-I’m going to-“ you cut yourself off with a moan, head falling down to his shoulder and burying your face in the crook of his neck.

“Do it… go ahead and cum for me…” he says, voice low and practically begging, “I want you to cum on my cock, baby…”

With that, along with another thrust or two, your eyes roll to the back of your head when reaching your finish. You continue to bounce on his dick, riding out the climax.

Shaky breathes and a spur of moans indicate he’s getting close himself. Hissing slightly from overstimulation, you keep riding him until you feel him grip your forearm tightly as a warning.

“Doll- fuck- I-“ he blurts, head falling backwards. You notice steady streams of tears falling down to his jawline.

You lift yourself off him, taking his length in hand and pumping it at a quick pace. Kissing his jaw, you swipe your tongue across fallen tears and relish in the sounds that escape him as he reaches his own climax not long after your own.

“Ohhh, thank you, thank you, thank you, thank you-!” he moans loudly, tears still falling freely down his cheeks as he finally releases. The warm, white liquid gets both on his lower stomach and your hand, and you continue to stroke until you’re certain he’s finished.

You lean against him once removing your hand, the both of you taking a moment to regain control of your breathing. Within the small pile of clothing next to you, a handkerchief is retrieved from your trousers that you use to wipe both yourself and Johnny down with. As you do so, he uses his hands to wipe the remaining tears from his eyes and face.

Alongside your calming heartbeat, the world around you gradually becomes clear again.

Giving him a small smile, you work on dressing yourself proper once more. And simply because you want to, you help him with getting his clothes back on as well. Lastly, you grab his hat from the ground. Sitting down next to him on your knees, you wipe off the dirt from it as best you can before handing it to him.

“Thanks…” he says, refusing to take his eyes off you even as he puts his hat back on.

“No problem,” you reply, smiling wider.

“You, uhh… you got-“ he gestures towards the entire bottom half of your face and one side of your neck, “-You got lipstick… everywhere. Sorry ‘bout that.”

Your hand flies to your cheek, suddenly conscious of your appearance. Too caught up in what you can only imagine your own face looks like, you don’t have the heart to point out the exact same to him.

Johnny lets out a soft chuckle, tilting his head to the side. “Don’t fret; blue’s a good color on you.”

You pout, half-kidding as you respond, “You’re just saying that to make me feel better.”

“I am.”

“Ha ha,” you fake laugh, smiling despite your attempt to sound annoyed, “You’re acting all high and mighty for someone who cried two minutes ago and managed to become jealous of Gyro of all people.”

Johnny clears his throat, a pink color rising to his face. “Don’tcha go gettin’ hung up on that,” he mutters, suddenly shy.

You scoot towards him, giggling. “It’s okay… I think it’s cute.”

“What? The jealousy or cryin’ during sex?”

“Both.”

With a wide, almost lovesick grin on your face, you lean in and capture his lips in a soft kiss. Regardless of his pouting, he doesn’t hesitate to kiss you back and even wraps an arm around you for extra measure.

“Ma che cazzo!?”

Johnny and you stiffen at the sound of distant yelling.

“The hell are you two idiots doing!?”

You both pull away from the kiss, but remain close together on the ground. At the same time, you turn over towards Gyro stomping towards the both of you with clenched fists.

Blood is staining his right arm, as well as half of his shirt and trickling down to his pants. Drying blood streams are also present on his face, having run down his forehead in two distinct streams.

“You assholes made me fight that terrorist all by myself!” he booms while continuing to make his way over, “I barely make it out alive and come back to find you two making out like-!”

He stops his movements completely, finally getting a good look at both of your lipstick-covered faces. He takes note of the dirt covering your clothes, as well as an unmistakable mark left on your neck.

In three whole seconds, his expression changes from furious, to bewildered, before finally he erupts in laughter. Gyro’s head flies backwards, slapping a hand to his forehead despite the sting of pain it causes. You and Johnny share a glance before silently looking back at the giggling man.

“Oh, this- this is too rich!” he exclaims between bursts of laughter, “I know the bastard had said he’d made you two too horny to think about coming to find me, but I really thought he was just talking shit! No way! No fucking way!”

“W-Well… we… we just…” you tried, failing to find anyway to respond.

Shoving past you, Gyro leans down and wraps an arm around Johnny’s shoulders. He lifts him off the ground slightly, just enough to lightly shake his body up and down like a rag doll. Johnny makes a face, trying to turn his face as far away from his friend as possible.

“You devious dog!” Gyro cheers, seemingly over his anger at the drop of a dime.

“Speak anymore ‘bout this and you’re a dead man, Zeppeli,” Johnny threatens, scowling.

“Yeeesh! Relax!” Gyro laughs, harshly dropping Johnny to the ground without warning.

Less than a minute passes and all three of you’ve climbed onto your horses. Internally, you dread the next few hours of riding. Despite Johnny’s words, there’s no way in hell Gyro’s going to be letting this go for a while.

Still, the small smile Johnny gives you before everyone starts traveling down the road once more assures you it was well worth it.

First Love Headcanons: Pannacotta Fugo x Reader

↳ Gender neutral reader.

A/n: This was so much fun to write! Fugo is such an interesting character to write for that I couldn’t help but fuss over this one for a good while. I hope y’all enjoy it as well. <3

Warning(s): None.

It started out innocently enough, as Fugo is not the type to fall in love overnight.

Curiosity itself is a perfectly normal reaction to have regarding a new member of Bucciarati’s team. Fugo is no exception to this, as he no doubt harbored questions about you when you initially joined.

That said, his approach is different compared to the others on the team. If you join after Mista, Narancia, and Abbacchio, they do just fine on their own intimating you at the very start.

Past the initial meeting, where some lighthearted hazing is likely to occur from everyone, Fugo sees no reason to contribute to any form of poking and prodding outside of missions. You already have to get used to so many strong personalities at once, after all.

He’s been with Bucciarati since the formation of his team, so he’s quite accustomed to getting used to someone new being around. Hell, if he wasn’t so closed off, he would’ve thought to feel bad for you.

Due to the walls he’s long put up, he prefers to remain observant from afar for a good while. Regardless of when you enter the picture, he’s going to keep his distance.

He’s not as good at reading people as someone like Giorno, but he trusts what he can decipher.

This will likely result in Fugo making some assumptions about you prior to the two of you finding equal footing. Whether or not his judgements turn out correct is unknown to you, as he doesn’t care share them with you to begin with.

This does lead to some aspects of your personality to be surprising to him. Nothing bad, just little details about you that he wasn’t expecting.

Your hobbies may be what’s shocking, or perhaps the type of media you prefer to consume. Little aspects of life and personality that unfold because of how much time the team spends together. The discovery of such things is what likely makes him feel more inclined to get to know you better.

Little by little, Fugo will eventually start including you in conversations and vise versa. Especially when Narancia and Mista are involved, he begins to turn to you it in an attempt to keep himself sane:

Mista and Narancia’s relentless chatter is still intimating.

How can you even approach a guy like Mista? He’s more than proven himself to be the type that says anything and everything that pops into his brain. Although he is certainly the relaxed type, his words can be quite vicious if he’s in the mood to tease and you just so happen to be in his line of sight. Sit him next to a full-time enabler like Narancia, and the two can go off on pretty much any topic imaginable.

Their conversations at the dinner table are wild, spontaneous, and still- even after more than a month of knowing them -manage to catch you off guard. Sometimes it’s thought-provoking and other times… not so much.

Which leads to their current conversation, one you sincerely wish wouldn’t take place while your trying to eat.

“I’m just saying-“ Mista argues, waving his fork in the air, “If it promotes a soothing and relaxing environment within the human body, I don’t see why it’s so unbelievable that it could also theoretically resonate with your bowels as well.”

“Yeah, maybe-“ Narancia rolls his eyes, “But that doesn’t mean it’s gonna make you crap your freaking pants! That’s ridiculous.”

“It’s not ridiculous; it’s psychology.” Mista retorts, raising a brow. His smug expression does nothing to convince you, or a bewildered Fugo sitting next to you, his knowledge on the subject. But it is enough to grind Narancia’s gears, which ultimately, is probably the key to his actual intent.

Still… you think, staring at your food with a pinched nose. It’s the brown noise. They’re actually trying to prove or disprove the psychological effects of the brown noise. Why on earth… no, how on earth can either of them discuss such a thing with a straight face?

“What kind of messed up psychoglogy-“

“Psychology,” Fugo cuts in with a sigh.

“-Yeah, whatever,” Narancia dismisses with a wave of his hand, “What kind of messed up psycho-logically are you reading up on?”

Grunting in frustration, Fugo drops his forehead onto the table with an exaggerated thud. Mista and Narancia continue to argue amongst the two of them, but you instead direct your attention to the grumbling blonde.

“Umm… Fugo?” you ask, hesitant to even address him.

He raises his head from the table, looking at you with desperation in his dark violet eyes. “Please don’t tell me you think this is worth discussing.”

You raise both your hands in the air. “Are you kidding? I just wanted to eat, but apparently that’s unheard of here.”

Sighing once more, he runs his hand through his hair. His hand stops at his neck and rubs the back of it. “Trust me, I don’t get them either,” he shakes his head, hand finally returning to his lap, “I’m glad you don’t encourage this nonsense, though.”

You let out a chuckle, a little surprised. Sure, you’ve spoken with Fugo before, but hardly ever this casually. The notion brings a tiny smile to your face. “I can’t believe you’d ever think I would,” you reply lightheartedly.

“Well, hanging around these two must be making me lose critical thinking skills… my apologies,” he replies. Despite his words, a smile crawls it’s way onto his face too.

Casual conversations held between the two of you opens the door to the beginning of a genuine friendship.

Unlike Abbacchio, Fugo knows better than to be contrarian to everything you say and do just because you’re new. Considering his intellect, he has always done his best to be objective. And there eventually comes a point where, upon reflection, he figures that you’re alright.

By then, off missions, he started asking you- quite bluntly -questions about yourself.

Although forward, he won’t overwhelm you all at once. From time to time, you might catch him staring at you thoughtfully out the corner of your eye (Do not bring this up to him; he will deny it to his grave). A round of questions often followed his stares.

And it’s when he feels he really knows you on a personal level that he’s able to truly relax around you.

He started greeting you with the same kindness and courtesy he offers the others. He gave you encouragement throughout both your private and work life… a lot of it. Turning to you during conversations comes to be as natural as it is for anyone else on the team.

Fugo’s caring side may be blocked off behind walls he keeps up for the sake of self preservation and the result of an unhappy childhood, but once you’re allowed to peek beyond them, his sweetness really knows no limit.

And it’s through his behavior that developing feelings start to shine through.

Fugo’s not going to at all realize his feelings toward you until the truth is smacking him across the face. But his actions show a certain kind of fondness before he himself recognizes anything.

His expressed love languages are most commonly words of affirmation and acts of service. This is very much so the case in the early stages of him developing feelings.

The words of affirmation were never explicitly affectionate, but always careful and supportive.

Fugo beats himself up over his temper often, so when he can think straight, he’s using his mind to its full extent. In other words, because he’s easily blinded by rage, he chooses his words very carefully whenever he can.

So after a particularly rough mission, he may get upset at one point or another. During the quiet moments after the fact, when adrenaline isn’t flowing any longer, he always gives credit where credit is due. He’ll gently comment on your work throughout the job, expressing he thought you did good with examples to boot.

Or it can be something as simple as offering you a job well done after making yourself a dinner.

From always holding his tongue unless he disagreed with your actions or input, to showering you with praise constantly. It comes to him so naturally he doesn’t even think twice.

And soon, even others in the group start to take notice:

“I don’t wanna do this right now… Fugo’s not even here yet, can’t I just wait?” Narancia whines.

His head is resting on top of an open notebook, his right cheek squished against crumpled paper. Pencil lead is smushed on his cheek, but pointing out he’s likely ruining his work would be a waste of time.

Resting your elbows on the table, you give Narancia a playful smile. “He’s supposed to get here with Abbacchio in thirty minutes. You know you should’ve gotten more done by now…”

Narancia let out an obnoxious groan, rolling his head onto his opposite cheek so he no longer has to look you in the eye.

“Narancia…” you sigh, smile falling. “I’m sorry if it seems harsh, but Fugo asked me to make sure you practiced on his recent lesson. He and Abbacchio are out doing the heavy lifting for the team right now, so it’s the least I can do.”

Narancia replies, but mutters it out so quietly you don’t pick up on his words.

“What was that?”

“Nothing,” he says at a volume you can hear, half bitter and half teasing.

“Narancia-“

“I said,” he lifts his head from the table, “You think like that ‘cause he’s always so nice to you.”

“What?” you blurt, heart skipping a beat.

“He compliments you all the time,” he chuckles. The smugness in his tone only grows, and as he continues, heat rushes to your cheeks. “‘Oh, Y/n, you did such a good job today, Y/n.’ And, ‘Oh, Y/n, you’re so very smart why don’t you help out Narancia?’ And who could forget, ‘Oh, Y/n, you look very beautiful today. Why don’t you kiss me on my big fat mouth?’”

“H-He doesn’t say that!” you exclaim, absentmindedly pulling at your fingertips underneath the safety of the tablecloth.

“You gotta know what I mean, though!” he insists. Pausing in order to read your expression, another laugh escapes him. “What? You haven’t noticed?”

“Umm, well.” Your lips pucker out, unsure if you should feel intrigued or embarrassed. After a short pause, you continue, “Fugo compliments everyone; including you… you know? He believes you can do this. He wouldn’t put care into teaching you if he didn’t. And I’ve seen what you’ve accomplished myself too. I certainly know you can get this.”

“You’re changing the subject,” he points out.

“And that not what you’re trying to do?” you ask, gesturing towards his notebook.

Narancia blinks dumbly, bewildered by your response. For a moment, you become pleased with yourself. Seemingly, you’d backed him into a corner and couldn’t help but be a little proud of yourself for it.

“You really don’t know…” he utters, eyes suddenly brightening.

Wait, what? you think, confidence quickly dwindling.

A fit of laughter erupts from him, kicking his feet in the limited space underneath the table. The movement halts your hands. His chair creaks and squeaks in distress, quickly quieting down when he once again slams both feet back on the floor.

He eagerly hunches over his notebook, eyes wide. Snatching up his pencil, he finally begins scribbling on the paper once more.

You’re left staring at him in awe. “What…? So now… you’re good then? You’re just… you’re just going to continue your work?”

Narancia lets out another laugh. “Ha! Well, the sooner I finish, the sooner I can tell Mista about this. I can’t believe you’re so clueless!”

Narancia is calling you clueless… yikes.

The confusion you may have felt that afternoon is nothing compared to Fugo’s reeling mind when the others started pointing things out and teasing him over his supposed affection.

Fugo doesn’t remember when it started, but they didn’t wait long after noticing his feelings to begin teasing him over them.

He would cross his arms, turning away with an annoyed expression while a pool of denials flood from his mouth. With a reaction like that, Narancia and Mista especially enjoyed pushing his buttons on the subject.

Abbacchio would partake in teasing as well in his own little way. Namely, he began making straight-faced comments and turning smug the moment Fugo’s voice raises. Bucciarati mostly keeps quiet on the matter, but no one could miss the fond grin he wears when the others get on his case.

Once, Giorno called you Fugo’s boyfriend/girlfriend. A bashed remote and a broken plate later, Fugo is shocked to learn Giorno wasn’t picking on him and genuinely thought the two of you were together.

The guy must be either super egotistical or is just not at all used to being wrong about this kind of thing, Fugo distinctly thought.

But of course he’s wrong about this! Everyone’s comments made no sense to him at all! There’s no way he felt that much towards you. That kind of thing… is not for him. He may take note when someone’s attractive, but he’s never really thought too seriously about romantic relationships. Just because you’re attractive, doesn’t mean-

Nope… nope, nope, nope, nope. He’s not touching that one with a ten foot pole. No way.

But by the next time he’s helping you with dishes the concept pops into his brain. When he’s dotting on you after a mission it’s plaguing his mind. And he can’t help but notice how meticulous he is when retrieving your additions to the group’s grocery list.

Shit.

Fugo doesn’t know what to think. He really… does go out of his way for you at times. Well, okay, all the time. Looking back, he finds some of his actions to be a little embarrassing. And the more the notion is stuck in his brain, the more he starts understanding that he really does care about you more than just as a friend.

Which is a whole other problem. Fugo’s going to get completely stuck in his own head.

This is the very first time he’s felt this way about someone, and he’s a mess over his lack of knowledge on the subject.

Because what the hell is he supposed to do? Tell you…? Don’t be ridiculous. That notion is met with a mocking tone, as if the mere idea of doing so is itself far too absurd.

But still… there’s this overwhelming urge telling him he has to do something. According to the others he’s already doing something, apparently. But you’re not saying anything about it. Wouldn’t you say something about it if you noticed? What if you never notice on your own? You won’t know unless he makes some sort of move…. but surely that would cause the sky to fall and mark the beginning of end times.

It’s a real echo chamber of insecurity in his head.

Yet… he feels a weird compulsion to be closer to you despite himself. He gets a weirdly beautiful feeling when he’s around you and it flutters his heart so much he doesn’t want to just let it go. It’s brand new to him, and as much as he stresses, he holds onto his affection tight.

Even though it’s more annoying than not, the others are consistent enough with their jabs that it gives Fugo hope that just maybe…

One of the only times Bucciarati explicitly commented on it himself, he mentioned that he believes Fugo’s frustration with his feelings will eventually pass.

The tone he carried indicated that he must know something that Fugo doesn’t, which only made his mind run wild further. Because if you’re going to tell anyone on the team about your feelings, it would probably be him.

Regardless of how much Fugo begs, Bucciarati doesn’t confirm nor deny that hunch. He’s rather adamant that Fugo should just “Ask Y/n and find out on your own.”

And after months of pushing, the others begin echoing that sentiment.

The likelihood of him making the first move is still slim, he figures, but he does hold onto hope that he’ll get a chance one day. Daydreams and “what if” scenarios are a common occurrence for him.

He procrastinates waits for the perfect opportunity, but it never seems to come. Mista mocks him for it, laughing that “There’s no such thing as a perfect opportunity.” Fugo only grows more defensive in response.

I’m already so nervous about expressing myself to Y/n, Fugo fusses, I don’t know what I’d do if I mess this up. If I can’t sweep them off their feet, how can I even-

“Pannacotta?” you ask, pulling him away from his thoughts.

He blinks a couple of times, focusing his attention back on you.

When Giorno is absent, Fugo’s the best source of first aid on the team. All you had to do was walk up to him, apologetic and sheepish. Without a word, he eagerly jumped at the opportunity to help patch you up after a particularly rough mission. It’s the closest he ever physically gets to you.

He calmly led you into a bathroom, gesturing for you to sit atop the sink. His fingers were light and gentle as he worked with what he has on hand. You gave him reassurance that Giorno will likely return soon, so he has no need to stress.

A smile played on his lips, thankful that you know him well enough to guess his own worry.

But slowing movements and focused eyes told you his mind began wandering elsewhere. The cutely taken aback expression on his face after you spoke up is also more than enough evidence to confirm your suspicion.

“You with me?” you ask, playfully trying to get him to respond.

You’re not used to him being this quiet after you’ve gotten hurt. He either talks you through the pain or feels the need to give a lecture. Even when Giorno’s healing you, he’s right by your side whenever he can. Just the thought of his usual behavior can bring warmth to your heart.

“My apologies, you’re just distracting,” he says, hands immediately snapping from your person. Oh god, oh god, it’s not like him to speak without thinking. He stutters trying to cover up his words and only digs a bigger hole for himself in the process. “I-I mean you’re distracted- I’m distracted.”

You laugh, but it dies out fast as you clutch your side at the sting of pain rippling though your body. Fugo’s hands instinctively fly to your side as well, his fingertips brushing up against your own.

Slowly, he lifts his head only to meet your gaze closer to him than it was mere moments ago. You seem just as surprised as he is, and there’s a brief pause while both of you wait for the other to pull away.

Neither of you do.

He’s so close he can feel your breath fanning his face. Normally his face would burn red and he’d retreat to his bedroom as soon as he could, where he’d proceed to reply the moment in his head for the rest of the night. But your eyes… your breathtaking gaze is locked on his own so intently he can’t bring himself to pull away.

And they give him courage he never knew he has.

With a nervous gulp, he leans forward and plants a single kiss to your lips. His own lips are unimaginably soft and hesitant, yet linger against your own longingly. Even when he pulls away far too soon, his nose nuzzles against yours as he plays with the idea of brushing his lips against yours again.

Just to have felt you… to have the briefest taste of what it’s like being closer to you than anyone else he’s ever known before…

“I-“ he pulls himself away, joy dissolving into self-consciousness. You open your mouth to speak, but in his haste, he cuts you off by accident, “I’m sorry… I-I shouldn’t have done that.”

“You… didn’t want to?”

Your reply is spoken in a whisper, voice so faint not even someone standing in the doorway could pick up on it. Fugo’s heart thuds against his ribcage at the crestfallen look on your face. Are you… really disappointed? He’s understanding this correctly… right?

There’s no time to think, and once again he lets his mouth move faster than his mind. “Well, I… you deserve better, you know?” he reasons, “I should’ve explained myself first and then asked… not just go for it… you know. This- I-… I’m not doing this right, aren’t I?”

You adjust yourself on the sink top, glancing away from him for only a second. “If you were to have explained yourself… what would you have said?” you gently plead.

“I-…” he shakes his head.

“Please, Pannacotta, I want to know…”

“I-…” he starts again, taking in a deep breath, “I think I would’ve said… that I think you’re very remarkable. That I’ve never met someone like you before… someone who makes me feel this way… someone who makes me-… umm…”

A hopeful smile tugs at the corners of your lips as you finish for him, “Makes you… want to kiss me?”

He nods, clearing his throat for a couple moments too long. “Not just that, though… you know? It makes me want to take care of you and look after you if I may. I-I-“ he hesitates, “I’m sorry… I’ve thought about this for so long. What I’d say to you if… if I got the impression that you wanted to hear it.”

“I do want to hear it,” you tell him, still grinning from ear to ear, “Pannacotta… I’ve been wanting to say something too for a while now. But you’ve taken the words right out of my mouth.”

He would think he’s dreaming if it weren’t for your hand reaching out and holding his with a gentle squeeze.

“I like you a lot…” you softly confess, “And I need you to know that. It’s always really cute to see you so shy… but for a moment I got to see you push yourself a little. And I think that was beautiful.”

His head falls, staring down at your interlocked hands. Your words stir something within him, taking a tiny step forward in trying to grasp that burst of confidence he felt when he kissed you. “You’re beautiful…” he mumbles, squeezing your hand.

Just a quick glance your way, a brief view of the bright smile on your face, is the best reassurance he could’ve hoped for. He took the plunge, and not only is chaos not ascending to the world’s surface, but his eyes finally open to the affection you feel for him in return.

He ultimately had a love-hate relationship with the way he feels about you before anything concrete happened between the two of you, but that didn’t stop him for falling for you more and more.

And with hindsight, he’s a little timid over not having told you how he feels sooner. But it doesn’t consume him as it may once have before.

With you now at his side, you his and him yours, his heart can only flutter with joy at the prospect of finding his first love.

Lipstick Marks - Johnny Joestar

Pairing - Johnny Joestar x reader

Warnings - too much fluff frfr

Word Count - 411

Notes - (image below not mine) seriously obsessed with this. it's super nice to write for myself for a little bit, so it may be a while before i open requests again, especailly with finals coming up soon. matchups are opening on saturday up to 10 people and it's first come first serve :) hope everyone is well and staying hydrated! <333

Johnny woke up to find your cheek pressed against his bare chest, your face covered in his blue lipstick.

He stretched, noticing his hair was out of his signature little bandanna and definitely a mess.

It was already getting warm outside, Johnny could feel that even from inside of a tent. The desert in America was something else. You two definitely needed to head out soon 1. before Gyro could get on both of your asses about sleeping in, and 2. to get further in the race and hopefully find a nice place to stay in the shade before it gets too hot.

"y/n," Johnny poked your cheek, making your nose scrunch. "y/n, wake up."

You pushed his hand away and turned away from him, still cuddled on his chest.

"I'm serious, y/n. It'll get hot outside before we know it."

"Just five more minutes." Your voice was tired and small as you pulled the blanket away from Johnny and onto your body, wrapping yourself up like a little caterpillar.

"Gyro's gonna yell at us." Johnny's voice sounded pouty, his southern accent seeming really thick.

"I don't care." You muffled your voice under your blanket and Johnny stood up, putting on a shirt.

"Fine then, if you're so keen on sleepin' I'll just be on my way then."

"Okay then. I'll see you later."

"Baby," his voice sounded even more pouty as he tried to pull you out of the blanket. "You were supposed to spike up and get ready to head out."

"I still have 2 and a half minutes, bub."

You both jumped, hearing the sound of Gyro throw down a bag in your tent. "Are we leavin' or am I gonna have to leave y'all behind?"

You peeked your head out of the blanket and Gyro immediately burst into laughter.

"What's so funny?!" You sat up, not caring that your white tank top was a little lopsided.

"Damn, so that's what I heard last night!" Gyro said through laughter pointing at your lipstick covered face.

You and Johnny both blushed, pushing Gyro out of the room.

"Dammit Gyro," Johnny was struggling to push Gyro's laughing figure out of your tent. "Do ya gotta ruin everything?!"

Gyro just kept laughing, wiping a tear from his eye, before leaving the tent on his own accord. "Y'all better hurry up though, or I'm gonna leave without ya."

Well, you had to admit that that sure got you up.

~~~~~

jjba masterlist --- pinned post

@tonberry-yoda

Hired Help [9]

Pairings - Bucciarati Gang x Reader

A/N - All I can say is sorry for the long wait...it may not be the best comeback but it is A comeback...

⟨ Part Eight | Masterlist | Part Ten ⟩

Taglist:

@centerhabit - You asked to be put on a taglist so long ago...I hope you'd still like to be on it.