Hellooo! I was the one who requested the mercy kill one, and that one was so cooll!!
Idk if you want to write more angsty headcanons, so feel free to skip this!
Jofoes x reader who passed away but came back in a form of a spirit? The reader could have held a grudge against them, or comforts them? Maybe some hurt/comfort, or maybe hurt/no comfort? ^^
Ofc you don't have to!! Make sure to take care of yourself, and have a great day :D
notes: Omg hi! those were so fun to do I had to get out of my usual stuff(WHICH IS GOOD YES) Its always so interesting to me that ghosts/spirits are real in jjba universe - - so much angst potential!
part4 jotaro, platonic Josuke and Giorno🫶
Jonathan:
Jonathan's guilt was immense, he blames himself because the circumstances had no power... while he did - - He should've saved you, he should've helped you, he should've done anything.
he was visiting your grave for the day, its routine, when your spirit was lingering. He attempted to call out, to apologize, but his every sentence he utters is interrupted with "sorry" until it became his every word.
if you do forgive him and say it out loud, its relieving, but he can't take joy from it. he just wants you back.
joseph:
Joseph was just about to rest his head on the pillow until, from the corner of his eye, saw your ghost. for a good moment he thought he hallucinated, just another reminder from his brain of his dead lover.
he tried ignoring it, telling it off, honestly his patience was waning with it.
"for god's sake!"
when he tried to confront the spirit, he didn't have the heart to look it in the eyes. he promised - - barely audible- that he would do better.
jotaro:
Jotaro had to put distance between you just to avoid that fate, and all he got was your untimely demise. when he saw the spirit he dodged the confrontation, what good would talking to it, really? he caused enough damage, mending it won't be enough.
he hated that's his only option, but it is, walking away.
Josuke:
josuke Hated how he helpless he was, a stand for healing but couldn't heal you. he knows he did what he could do - - but nothing could stifle the guilt in him, even time. Your spirit appeared, a moment when he saw something that reminded him of you. At first he was shook - - another ghost in his home town? his heart ached more, for the possibility of you haunted this same spot to get proper justice.
"I’ll get you justice I promise.”
Giorno:
he's been so numb to emotions, every death was just another reason to pursue his dream - - not that it didn't affect it, he just repressed these feelings until they didn't bother his mind.
he's somewhat glad he could get conformation , that you are content in your afterlife.
Jolyne:
Her frustration buildup over time, of course she was saddened but she hated this out come. She knew you didn’t deserve death, and for the most part that if your ghost came to scold her it would be justified.
however, when that spirit started haunting her - - its eyes didn’t seem malicious, and that knowledge eased something in her.
Notes: Tried getting Joseph's and jolyne's Anger! because when they lost/was close to losing their loved one they used their angry with determination to ya know beat the bad duddes.... ya ya?
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Hello!! I see you like the pillarmen, so I was wondering if you would do nsfw Wamuu hcs? He’s my fav pillarman 🤤
Your writing is incredible, I love it!!
⤷ ゛ ˎˊ˗ Wamuu NSFW HCs ⤷ ゛ ˎˊ˗
ദ്ദി •⩊• ) Me gripping the top of my desk so hard my nails cut the wood the moment I see a Pillarman request:
AND its my second fave…. Thank you thank you!! I adore your works, and i hope you enjoy <3
I feel like Wamuu is a hair less confident and that’s why he’s a bit meaner or possessive than Kars. With Kars, the threat is a lot more implicit due to his power level imo (I would write even more NSFW hcs for him if I had ti—)
ᯓ For a life split between training, sleep, and servitude since birth, it’s unsurprising that these types of activities have not come across Wamuu’s schedule too often. Kars’ doctrine demands total commitment, of the flesh and the mind.
ᯓ I wouldn’t put it past him to be a virgin frankly. Maybe in the past, there have been slip ups where he caught sight of something…. Particularly delicious. Typically though, the threat of discipline keeps him from straying too far.
ᯓ Lusty? No, it’s a need to feel you come undone— to see his superiority over a little human reinforced.
ᯓ Fast learner. Even if he doesn’t have experience in the sensations you seek, he will gain it through you: instruct him, show him how you touch yourself. You like the feeling, don’t you? Why? Tell him.
ᯓ Once he has it nailed, how to make you tick, it’s a massive point of pride for the Pillarman. Though he’d mask it in teases.
ᯓ Seeing you in pain does nothing for him, unless it’s pain from the mounting pleasure of him manipulating your most sensitive parts. Not into anything that would outright hurt you.
ᯓ Orgasm denial. For both of you.
ᯓ Training, he calls it in soft, tight breaths, his thumb slipping over your wet tip/clit for what must be the hundredth time as you grasp into the sheets, his own hand on his fat, weeping cock. You have to resist the urge to tip over the edge. He’s doing it with you and he isn’t close. Are you that weak?
ᯓ Even if it is “training”, he can have fun. Without much effort, he can pin your hip down with one hand and tease you until you’re babbling, sobbing for the great Wamuu to please let you cum.
ᯓ Nips more than he bites. He doesn’t create the biggest hickies, but likes dotting your chest and hips. Almost the size and shape of fingerprints.
ᯓ Likes your sensitive neck, and anywhere he can see the tightening of muscle. Calves. Pecs. Biceps. Any of them. Can’t resist how your waist looks in his hands either.
ᯓ Wind play? Temperature play-ish. Tendrils of cool air curl around your limbs, graze your wet folds/pulsing length, raising goosebumps.
ᯓ Let it pin you to the bed, squirming and shivering in place. It drives him insane.
ᯓ Favorite position is anything he can see your face, but is somewhat partial to holding your legs open in a V when you’re receiving, he likes holding your ankles.
ᯓ (I think Wamuu would be more likely to bottom than Kars, but it is still a once in a blue moon scenario. Treat it reverently.)
ᯓ Though once he gets over your humanness (and himself, really), he does enjoy serving you. Laying on your back, his arms snaking up your torso as he goes down on you like a man at an altar.
ᯓ If you haven’t been interested in it earlier, he is interested in anal play.
ᯓ There’s something that soothes the old values of dominance he’s internalized. Perhaps it’s the whimpers you make when he preps you, the soft skin of your ass, the way you shiver as he pushes inside you for the first time. Tight, shaky, so adorable and small in his grasp (AGAIN, the Pillarmen are like 8-9 feet tall. Idc how you look, all readers are getting their shit rocked by them if they so desire).
ᯓ Fat dick, large like the other Pillarmen’s, proportional to his size. I don’t think any of them can resist brushing their fingers over the spot in your abdomen where the head of their length is spearing you.
ᯓ Ownership. He truly owns you, him and his lords, and he lets you know.
“Your body reacts so much at the slightest touch… are humans really so weak?”
“My little one. Hold still.”
“Now. Thank the great Wamuu for deciding to play with you.”
ᯓ He likes seeing your body marked with his seed, inside and out— perhaps a bit of a fetish for it. Cums quite a bit too.
ᯓ Grits his teeth, moans when he finishes. Sometimes there’s a hiss, like the breeze across leaves. Holds you so tight, you fear you might break a few bones.
ᯓ Very careful and concerned about aftercare. Sore? Let him massage your muscles after a bath. Really likes to feel the soft slip of your wet skin beneath his palms.
ᯓ Chances are if you both serve the upper two, you’re going to be needed soon. But he has the experience— don’t worry, he’ll take care of both of your tasks. (You may owe him later.)
ᯓ Wamuu long has endured an isolated, disciplined existence that he never sought a change from. You, in the form of a delectable little distraction, he will make fit into his lifestyle.
Sorry if I am too greedy, but you can put a request from me on hold as much as you want. Still, I remember you once did a poll in which Johngalli A. was an option, so maybe it's time to get HC about him? He is such an underrated character (which is a default for almost all of SO cast) and would love to see what you thought out for him! And of course maybe some small relationship HC too, if you are in the mood. Also I hope you will have great fun at the con!
▄︻デ╦═一── Johngalli A General Headcanons ▄︻デ╦═一──
ദ്ദി •⩊• ) It’s been a while since I saw the shower scene…. WHY did they give him all that ass. He really is an underrated character even apart from that tho mmmmmm
And of courseeeeee I wanted to do these a while ago but alas 🧍 either way go my sniper baddie (also another one w NEGATIVE gifs i swear)
𓏲𓂅 Initially wore glasses at the behest of his sergeant. Quickly stopped.
𓏲𓂅 He got the tattoos before his cataracts started to develop. Anyone who comments on it no longer has a head.
𓏲𓂅 Has a tendency to run warm, but he doesn’t have a bad time in the summer.
𓏲𓂅 During the winter, you may still have to needle him to share some of that warmth with you. He’s not much of a cuddler.
𓏲𓂅 Or, he’d say he’s not. He just enjoys clasping you to him like a vice laying in bed sometimes. It’s not cuddling. (Sometimes the hold is a bit too tight.)
𓏲𓂅 Killed time as a child by using a slingshot. Pinged Telence when he was out for the groceries once.
𓏲𓂅 Johngalli A lived on a military base in Egypt for a period with his parents while his father was deployed— which is how he met Dio at such a young age, wandering around listless and bored. His ability to sneak outside of the base without someone noticing got him a compliment from a particular vampire.
𓏲𓂅 Catholic upbringing. He couldn’t shake the feeling he truly was looking at something divine when he first saw Dio. (It made him easier to manipulate.)
𓏲𓂅 He grew out his hair long in defiance of military restrictions. His father also hated it.
𓏲𓂅 His confirmation saint was Ignatius.
𓏲𓂅 Not much of a hand holder. Would prefer to keep his hand on the small of your back or hip.
𓏲𓂅 Can braid hair decently, he does his own. Learned it by watching his mother when he was younger; he has a tendency to pick up on skills easily.
𓏲𓂅 Doesn’t drink. Has a general disgust for that which dulls the senses.
𓏲𓂅 The precision and continuity of bonsai tree maintenance is appealing to him.
𓏲𓂅 Dislikes super sour flavors, anything that stings the inside of the mouth.
𓏲𓂅 Is a bit of an enigma throughout the prison. Johngalli A is rather quiet, a bit eccentric— the issues with his eyesight would make him the subject of snickers across the yard— but still, no one messes with him.
𓏲𓂅 Perhaps it is those creepy, cloudy eyes. They said going blind sharpened the other senses, after all.
𓏲𓂅 More of an intimidator than a charmer. His connections didn’t have much of a choice.
𓏲𓂅 Pain tolerance out the wazoo. Ties into the above.
𓏲𓂅 Sounds harsher than he is, but it’s only because you keep him steady. He can’t afford to let you go. Not when his plan is so close to fruition.
𓏲𓂅 He isn’t going to take you on a lot of dates— in the prison, of course he can’t. Outside of it, he would acquiesce to you taking the lead in planning them (though he usually gets the final word on if it’s safe enough to go).
𓏲𓂅 Could give an amazing massage. If you’re really sore and don’t mind exchanging the favor, he could be convinced to give you one.
𓏲𓂅 The type to silently manipulate your surroundings as a means of “caring” for you. If you hit snooze too much, he sets another alarm for you ten minutes after yours initially goes off. Forgetting an umbrella constantly, or didn’t even check the damn weather, he grabs your arm and pulls it into your jacket sleeve. And clips an umbrella to your bag.
𓏲𓂅 Isn’t very affectionate overall, but likes to kiss the delicate parts of you— your throat, the inside of your wrist, your temple. Where he can feel your heartbeat spike.
𓏲𓂅 He dislikes having to repeat himself. Might be in your best interest to keep a log of instructions and preferences.
𓏲𓂅 Sometimes, you’ll feel his eyes on you even when he’s nowhere near. Though you’ll spin in a full circle, head swiveling, you can’t make out where he is in the crowd— but you know he’s there.
𓏲𓂅 Careful, intense. Protective. It’s a little scary.
𓏲𓂅 But later they will soften as he watches you rest, your soft breaths barely audible. Just stay where he can ensure your safety. You anchor him to this world, whether you intended to or not, and he’ll be damned before he drifts again.
Giorno with a reader who really likes expensive things and genuinely is sucking his wallet DRY because like they’re an avid magazine reader and always circles what they want with a marker and shows it to him and he just can’t say no fr
notes: that's really fun I used to do that when my family got magazines from stores😌
Giorno was always so observant, his eyes never rest on picking up small details, though his skills weren't needed for your endless wishlist of items. if a magazine with every criteria wasn't shoved in his face, it was discarded near him with its obvious intent.
Its not like money was an issue - - and if you wanted it, then you should get it. He prefered you get all your wants organized to go on one big trip, for convenience sakes(and to avoid any encounters with ill willed people) but they evolved into weekly outings with him having carrying plenty of bags and boxes with his trusted bodyguard - - mista.
he did get fleeting thoughts about canceling your Magazine subscription for a week so he could get through your checklist of items, but he immediately turned down, because doesn't the most important person in his life deserves any nicknack if he has the money?(if it doesn't lose it by the end of the week)
Big idea, yandere anasui with a breeding kink towards the reader but the reader is also as obsessed with him as he is with them so they both get nasty but the reader gets emotional after since nobody loved them before anasui came into their life, preferably female reader?
‧₊˚ ☁️⋅♡𓂃 ࣪ ִֶָ☾. “that’s what I want you for” - Yandere Narciso Anasui x Fem Reader NSFW ‧₊˚ ☁️⋅♡𓂃 ࣪ ִֶָ☾.
ദ്ദി •⩊• ) my bias is showing guys I have no excuse ajsjdkdnkgkg ohhhhh Anasui my beloved. I said this would be drabble length but i think it went on a bit.
please enjoy!! breeding kink is uh. its uh. i like writing it 🧍
Notes: yandere themes (unhealthy relationship dynamics, possessive terms), edging/orgasm denial, penetrative sex, cumming inside, hickeys/biting, mentions of pregnancy, degradation, Anasui is obsessed with you and god I wish that were me
“Whatever excuse you have, it won’t be enough.”
And just the same, running would be futile. Cold concrete surrounds you. Completely empty. Anasui’s cell was perfectly tucked into the corner of the block, the furthest from any of the doors; how many nights had he cooed into your ear how perfect it was, to keep you hidden away? With his lips against your jaw, giggling, you relished the fact. But now…
Gods. Oh god. Your heart thuds, staring at his clenched fist. Hadn’t you done everything correct? Hadn’t you?
“W-what is it?”
“You have to ask?” He snaps. His eyelid twitches. Anger makes his shoulders hunch, arms tense; he looks bigger than usual. Threatening. Shit.
Wide eyed, you search your brain— almost all your belongings were in his bunk, only a few clothes to make sure you could dress, what could—
He opens his fist.
You freeze.
“Why the fuck are you wasting money on this?”
The crumpled foil wrapper with the helmet outline might as well have been a salacious log between you and someone else, with the absolute disgust your boyfriend looks at it with. His eyes are dark.
Wait, you know what this is though. You take a shaky breath, and start— “Sui, I didn’t pa—“
“Pay much?”
“I didn’t pay anything!” You squeak as he grabs your shoulder and pushes you back into the concrete wall. Wincing, grit grinds through the thin prison jumpsuit, but you barely get your bearings before your chin is grabbed and lips press firmly against your own.
A soft moan slips from you. Anasui bites your bottom lip.
“So they could just smell on you that you were a whore and you took them up,” he mutters, and starts to trail his mouth down to your neck, sliding his hand through the fabric’s snaps and popping them one by one. Marks from the last week mottle the skin, iris like, deep purplish spreads with light yellow centers. Your face warms at the sight.
And he makes a move to add another.
“Ag—hhm!”
You whine. Teeth sink into already tender flesh, sharp, insistent— the bumps of his tongue slide over the new hickey as he sucks in. Sparks of pain pop. “Hm?” He asks. “Can’t even deny it, can you?”
“I didn’t want it!” You protest, as he bites in again. Eyelids flutter. Shit. Arms wrapping around him to steady yourself, shaky, you say, “I promise, you c-can count the money in our bunk! I b-belong—“ voice breaking as his grip on your waist tightens, “—to you, Sui, no one else!”
“I’ll remind you of it.”
Slender fingers snake down your bare stomach, towards the spot between your thighs. Excitement, lust are overridden briefly by fear as he presses a rough finger between your folds. You gasp.
“This wet huh?”
“S’for you, Sui,” you moan. The digit pushes into you, curling in that spot that has you grabbing onto him, legs shaking. “S’for you, Sui--”
“Be quiet.”
He sets his teeth right under your jawline. Your eyes roll back.
When did he get like this for you…?
“Really?”
“Save that excitement for when you leave.” Narrowed green eyes flickered towards the fence, then back. Between her glare and the sun, anyone weaker would be sweating enough to look like you’d pissed yourself. Jolyne’s attitude wasn’t totally out of place, but the extra acid in her look didn’t escape your gaze, and you weren’t about to let it go. The one time? Really? You pouted at her.
“Oh, forgive me. Forgot stewing in our own misery was part of the sentence,” you replied sarcastically. Her nose twitched, drawing out a sigh from you.
“Come on, just finish what you were saying. Please?”
“Gimme a break. Are we in elementary school, or something?” Jolyne taunted. She clasped her hands by her cheek and gazed off dreamily, mockingly, and you flipped her off as Ermes laughed. Even Foo tilted her head, shaking it slightly.
“You’re so full of shit, and SO lucky I’m not a bitch because I could make a real dig if I didn’t like you.”
“If you start fighting and knock over my water again, I’m going to knock you out,” Foo cut in, tapping a finger on her water cup. It got Jolyne’s mouth to shut at least. She rolled her eyes.
The green haired girl tilted her head at you. Every time she does, your skin prickles— as if she’s looking deeper than her eyes imply. “Does it matter that much?”
“I mean…. Yeah,” you said. Though your cheeks burned still, your gaze shifted back to the fence, the man with the shock of pink hair leveling his eyes to meet yours. Curious. Hungry. Thrills ran down your spine. “S’not worth getting all dramatic though, is it?”
“Not really, but…” Jolyne exhaled. “No, but if you want protection.”
You frowned. “That’s not—“
“I know it isn’t. But it’ll look like it.”
“You actually like the guy.” Ermes repeated it slowly, and popped a piece of contraband gum in her mouth. “Even if he might do you in?”
You shrugged. “I wouldn’t cheat on him.”
“Oi, that wasn’t an excuse,” Jolyne snapped.
“I wasn’t saying it was, just that I’m confident he won’t snap on me.”
“So you are stupider than you look,” Ermes replied flatly.
“Aw, are you worried?” It was your turn to bat your eyelashes. “Y’know, maybe I ought to look your way, Ermes, if you’re gonna be so sweet. We could protect each other~”
She gagged, making Foo and Jolyne roar with laughter as you threw a ball of paper at her.
“Oh screw you. Maybe the murderer will appreciate me better than you lot.”
Ermes scoffed, shook her head. “Just don’t come crying when he won’t let you leave his cell.”
“That’s kinda hot.”
“Slut!” Jolyne screeched, and scooped up the paper ball to throw back at you. You caught it and stuck your tongue out, grinning, practically skipping away.
Yeah, they had no idea. They really didn’t.
“--uh-hm-- uh--”
“That’s all I want to hear,” he coos, twirling his thumb around your clit again-- throbbing, sensitive, sweat clinging to your skin as your vision blurs. How long had he been doing this? It felt like… like…
Two fingers crook and make circles in the other direction against your tender g-spot, tapping and pressing like it were a button. If it weren’t for his arm around your waist and your own practically hooked around his shoulders, you’d have collapsed to the floor around the third time he pulled his hand back seconds from cumming. Arousal soaks your underwear. Damn well may have stained the jumpsuit slid down your legs, your breasts exposed to the open air and covered in fresh kiss marks that you know will get you even more smirks in the shower.
Tears mingle with the sweat on your cheeks; Anasui leans in, presses his tongue against the warm flesh, humming.
“No more fake apologies. Just you, coming undone, because of me.”
“S’not…” you babble, jumping a little when he presses a third finger inside you, scissoring you open. “S’not… fake…”
“It’s not?” He asks, softly.
“Promise… b-babe… Sui…”
“Mm.” He kisses your cheek, nips it, speeding up his fingers at your clit again. You squirm, panting, chest heaving as your muscles contract--
Only for him to pull back again for the fourth time.
The sudden emptiness and chill make you whine, as he grabs your wrist and throws your trembling form to the stiff bunk.
You wince, but only have a moment before you feel your jumpsuit ripped down your legs and your backside fully exposed-- you might actually hear the fabric ripping, but that could also be your underwear as it practically shreds in his grip. A firm hand grips into the flesh of your ass, letting a nail scratch the skin just slightly.
Something warm presses between your thighs. You freeze.
“I told you to shut up.”
You whimper as the blunt, weeping head of his cock rubs against your oversensitive folds, catching on your entrance. His legs cage yours, one hand pinning your wrist to your side. Pink tresses that had looked so elegant and beautiful from afar trail over your back as he bites just above the shoulderblade.
“And I told you that this cunt was mine, so you should know better than to bring trash like that around,” he chides, cold, whispery.
With a choked scream, he sheathes his length inside you with one long thrust.
Your legs quiver. The stretch burns only slightly with how much he’s teased you, and you almost cum on the spot from how deep the angle allows the tip to grind against you. Stars dance in your vision.
Unlike normal he doesn’t savor the feeling and immediately begins to set a bruising pace; his hips snap against your ass roughly, his dick spearing your insides as you choke on your own breath. Fuck. Fuck. The hard material of the bunk jabs into your hips through the thin mattress with every movement, the overwrought bundle of nerves above the entrance of your cunt brushing against the sheets and tearing sobs from your throat. If there was anyone left in the blocks that hadn’t decided to go out during rec time they were definitely wishing they had. Shamefully, the thought that someone might hear what he was doing to you…
Your cunt throbs.
“Haah…” he exhales. His lips graze your ear before biting at the lobe, grinding his hips to your backside. “Yeah, it really is mine. Clenching me so perfect, you were made for me, weren’t you?”
“Mm--mmhmm,” you moan, as he wraps a hand around your throat and forces your back to arch slightly. Lewd noises bounce against the walls of the cell, sounds of flesh on flesh. You taste salt. The pressure against your neck makes your mouth open to breathe, panting-- it hitches when he presses in to the base and you swear you feel him against your cervix.
Oh gods. Gods, you had been so perfect, you had been so good, and completely forgot how it felt when he was angry. It hurt your heart. You did so much, you loved him, so much. And so did he.
But when he needed to remind you of it-- his cockhead jabs against that deep spot inside you. Your eyes roll back.
Oh, you could never reveal how good it felt when he was mean. Even when you still hadn’t cum, gods, every touch of your clit against the sheets was electric, sending shivers of ecstasy through you, that pause when he pulls out.
Before you can react, he flips you over and tosses your legs up over his arms like they’re nothing and forces himself back inside your sensitive pussy until his pelvis brushes yours. The air stutters in your chest. Anasui hisses.
“Oh, you were. You can’t lie to me. Made for my dick— made— shit— to take my cum,” he rasps, bullying your cunt with ruthless thrusts. Your eyes roll back.
“Mm--ah!”
Every ridge of his cock brushes your walls in a way that sends shivers down your spine, nerves in your body alight; each movement of his body on yours is too much. His balls slap against your clit as he thrusts. The angle makes him curl even harsher against your tender walls, making you clench against him with soft cries. Your hands scrabble at him, even as he slaps them away-- you weakly grab for him again. Gentle fingertips on his arms, the muscles tensing. His acidic eyes on yours-- at some point he slid off his clothes too, exposing his pale torso. In the beams of light that cut through the bars, his muscles are highlighted, cut-- he’s so handsome, even when his hand presses your throat back into the mattress. Against his fingers, you feel your pulse quicken, breath contract. Gods.
“You’re going to take every bit of me.” He kisses you, his teeth grazing your bottom lip. Your body trembles under him. “You like it— haah— don’t you? Love when you feel it, my cum inside you, maybe I’ll get you pregnant this time, hm?”
Thrills run down your spine, and you moan, clenching down on him and making him hiss.
“Want that? Want me to show everyone who owns this cunt?”
You nod, babbling, your back arching off the now sweat soaked bed, “Mmhmm, mm, Sui, want--you--”
His words come out sharp, feverish. “You do? You want me to fill you? Mark you inside n’out, feel me dripping from that cute pussy?”
“‘M—mmhmm!”
His movements speed up. The head of his cock bumps right near your cervix. A hand drifts to your neglected clit and you cry out as he rubs quick circles on it with just the very tip of his finger.
Your nails might tear the sheets at this rate, his other hand still keeping your throat pinned back to the bed and his weight against your hips, you can’t, you can’t with how deep he is—
“Say it.”
“M’sorry, Sui!” You whine, grasping onto his arm and slipping from sweat as his cock bullies in and out of your pussy. Your legs shake over his arms. Inside your tummy, the muscles start to tense, the pressure building again at the apex of your thighs. “M’sorry, I want y-you, wanna feel you cum—“
“Apologize with your cunt, whore,” he hisses, and his thumb draws the final swipe across your clit that tips you over the edge.
With a strangled, taught scream, you convulse as you’re finally allowed to cum. Like a relay, pleasure spreads from your tight cunt pulsing on his length through your veins all the way down your limbs to your fingertips, electric, shivery, eyelids fluttering. Goosebumps raise, your tremors subsiding as his movements become erratic.
“Fuck… Y/N…”
And as he shoves himself in to the hilt, you clench around his twitching cock.
Warm spurts of his seed coat the inside of your pussy, still thrusting, as if trying to push it into your womb. Slick, pearling around your entrance. Your thighs shake with each movement. Breaths come out in soft, shaky wheezes.
He withdraws, but holds your hips up, tilted. You whimper.
“Mm-mm. Hold still. I want to make sure you keep as much in as possible.”
Anasui drags one finger through your sensitive, puffy folds. You nearly jerk away from him as he pushes a fingertip just past your entrance, tutting.
“Don’t waste any,” he chides. After a moment, he sets your thighs down, gazing down at your wracked form with half lidded eyes. Still, something cold lingers there.
Was he still mad? Your own well up with tears.
“I won’t…. Please… please don’t—“
“Don’t what?” He practically barks it, and you half sob.
“Don’t leave me… Sui, please….”
His eyes narrow. He lets your legs slide off his lap, holding your hips and rubbing slow, small patterns into the skin. Finally, he asks, in a slightly gentler tone. “Where did you get the condom?”
“Jolyne made me take it… as a joke… I promise…” you hiccup. “She said it was a wedding present, ‘cause I said I was saving. Promise. You can ask her.”
Gulping down air, you shakily push yourself up on your elbows, looking up at him through wet lashes. As his gaze catches yours, you swear that you see a crack in the facade.
On shaky legs, you sit up to hug his arm the way you know he likes. He’s still a little stiff. But he lets you do it.
“Wanna be your wife… I love you so much Sui. Please love me too.”
There’s a moment of quiet where you press your sticky cheek to his bicep, still crying a little. He wasn’t actually mad, right? You couldn’t…. He…
But a hand settles on top of your head. In relief, you practically purr, stretching into his touch, and his pinky brushes over your forehead.
“I’ll believe you when I count the money.” But his tone isn’t nearly as cruel as before. And his hand slides down to your chin, tilting it up so you can look your boyfriend in the face.
“I love you too,” Anasui says simply. “You know I do, so throw away things like that if people try to give them to you. Okay?”
You nod against his arm, and close your eyes. He shifts a little, a squeak of the bunk as he reaches under to pull from your shared bundle of bills.
After three months, you’d given him most of yours to save for a ring. There were a few people in one block who had at least stuff with emeralds.Even if it wasn’t, you’d assured Anasui you’d wait for the perfect one. His eyes flashed at that, and he’d pressed you back and fucked you with similar vigor.
As you slump against him, you hear quiet counting under his breath. And finally, a sigh of relief.
“It’s all here.”
“I told you, Sui,” you mumble. He hums and pets your head.
“Let’s get you cleaned up.” A soft kiss lands on your forehead and you grin; his other hand squeezes your thigh, his nose brushing your cheek and hair tickling your hickey-ridden chest as he whispers words that make your stomach flutter and thighs press together.
“Do your best to keep my seed inside you until you can put on new underwear. If this doesn’t catch, I’ll have to try a little harder next time.”
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Saw you wrote for Miu Miu so I thought I'd shoot my shot with my wonderful pink wife, Carne. General slice-of life headcanons for a nonspeaking Carne and equally nonspeaking reader(read: Nonspeaking, so sign language and alternative communication is fine, just no *talking), sharing an apartment? Reader doesn't have to be involved with Passione but maybe they're a criminal too, it's up to you.
{¬ºཀ°}¬ ˚.🦴 ᵎᵎ Carne x Gen Reader - Living Together HCs {¬ºཀ°}¬˚.🦴 ᵎᵎ
ദ്ദി •⩊• ) Im so sorry since you called Carne your wife I left something diabolical in the reblogs
i hope you enjoy!! Carne may take the lead for characters I need to theorize about due to the lack of canon content lol and I hope you like what I stirred up ^^
Another chara w no gifs, sorry
𓄯 Little is to be known about your roommate, or that is how he desperately wants it to seem. “Desperate” might not be the best word. That would imply some sort of active aggression.
𓄯 Nothing had been mentioned in the newspaper ad for the room. Merely, “Quiet bedroom in shared apartment. Will have own bathroom. Shared kitchen. Laundromat downstairs. Roommate keeps to himself.”
𓄯 Well, better than most. And the cheapness matched the area. Beggars can’t be choosers.
𓄯 When you knocked on the door, his posture was stiff; as if he really didn’t want to show you the apartment, but his mother had told him to. And you picked up on why he was especially taut almost immediately.
𓄯 At every room, he stands at the open frame and doesn’t even gesture to the inside. Just standing and hoping you understand to take the look.
𓄯 To be honest, it’s a relief. Chatty roommates were more trouble than they’re worth.
𓄯 Though he wouldn’t wish to show it, Carne is also relieved at your silent observation of the space that feels entirely your own; not patronizing or exasperated. Multiple candidates had shown up and either immediately turned away at the sight of him or yapped his ear off with idiotic questions and concerns. What time did he take supper? Did he want to eat together? What did he do for work? Would he have problems with people out past ten pm?
If it were possible, Notorious B.I.G would have taken care of all of them, but that would be far too conspicuous.
With no major issues with the apartment, you take out a notebook and scribble the question to him, in the musky, dimly lit room:
“When is it okay to move in?”
He pauses. Then, he takes the notebook and writes back to you in a blocky print font:
“Whenever.”
𓄯 Thus begins your silent, but not entirely solemn, coliving.
𓄯 Carne is only described as harboring a great degree of hate. You can see that even without knowing, but it isn’t in a violent way.
𓄯 The starkness of the space. The couch and a radio on the floor, no rug. It’s clean enough; not dirty or dingy, but nothing personal, nothing to betray any hint of interest in something else. A hatred for all things maybe— or just annoyance for having to dust.
𓄯 You ask him if it’s fine to add your own things if you want, and he just nods, bemused.
𓄯 If you want a TV too, he’s not annoyed by it, that’s not why he didn’t get one in the first place. (It was because he couldn’t think of anything he was interested in watching outside his own space in his room.)
𓄯 But if it isn’t extremely loud or energetic, say, a documentary or a news program (especially if he’s received messages about anything from the Boss), he doesn’t mind— if you don’t mind— sitting in and watching with you.
𓄯 Eats at pretty regular hours of the day, but never tends to occupy the kitchen long. It’s as if he’s cooking just for sustenance, the same way you pump gas into a car. Did he not enjoy flavor either?
𓄯 No, you determine, it’s because he hates shopping. Which is entirely fair.
𓄯 You ask one time if he’d like you to pick up anything. After a moment of staring at the wall, he instinctively goes to sign, before reaching for the notepad.
Excitement overrides you and you nearly brush his hand as your own stretch to speak to him. Shit.
He turns to you, eyes blank, but cautious. Well, made it this far. You sign out the question.
“What do you want?”
Some bit of relief goes across his face before he signs back.
“Artichokes. And this brand’s tomato paste.”
𓄯 After that, he’s much more comfortable signing to you. It becomes the default means of conversation.
𓄯 Each of you have a signal for when you’re starting a conversation or trying to ask a question. He taps the wall.
𓄯 Before you come to understand that, you might miss some of his signals. He nearly cracks the wall one day.
𓄯 Carne defaults to signing. It’s more convenient. He is actually hard of hearing, so he had the knowledge prior to deciding to be mute.
𓄯 He begrudgingly appreciates that which you add; posters, photos, plants, lights, any and none of the above.
𓄯 Ultimately, he has little appreciation for that around him; the noise of others in their earnestness doesn’t encourage his own investigation.
𓄯 But your quiet enjoyment does invite his intrigue. At the very least, he won’t judge you for any interests you have, because you don’t piss him off about them.
𓄯 He doesn’t seek out a cleaning schedule. If you keep yourself tidy, he will. Though his definition may differ (he doesn’t worry all too much about stove build up or dust but he at least keeps his bathroom clean).
Absolutely the type to need to know if company is coming. Non negotiable. If you forget, it could be compromising to his position.
𓄯 And he’s most comfortable coming home after a long day of fruitless scouting and lying in wait to you with headphones on or engrossed in a TV program. He does make some kind of sound so you know he’s there, most of the time.
𓄯 His interests veer towards the solitary. Reading, maybe a video game or two. I could see him collecting foreign movies or CDs as well, because they could be delivered and he wouldn’t have to interact with them.
𓄯 If you were interested in the same things, you would likely have to be very casual and polite. He has boundaries. The only reason he opened this room up is because pay from the Boss is starting to dry up.
𓄯 He’s only on retainer. He isn’t an active member of the squad in comparison to Tiziano and Squalo, per se; the nature of his Stand allows him a lot of free time that he’s used to spending on his own.
𓄯 But he will let you play something with him, if you quietly pick up on the controls or learn as you go, maybe failing a few times. As someone who has no leverage to fail in real life, it can be endearing to see someone work on something.
𓄯 Carne is the epitome of neutrality, by terms of the Boss’ needle. He is that which takes out those who are too close for comfort.
𓄯 If you were a low level member of Passione, he certainly wouldn’t let you know of his status. But if you weren’t, you are an absolutely wonderful presence to return to.
𓄯 Quiet, gentle, curious but not prying. When he returns, it isn’t an affair, nor are you jumping him to chide for some offense of coming home too late or too loud. He doesn’t do much of the latter anyway.
𓄯 A life separate from the will of the oligarchs. His faith doesn’t waver, but it is enforced by your peace not interrupting his mission.
First time requesting If you feel like this isn’t something you want to write don’t hesitate to Ignore my request!!
—-
/I had this silly little request for Joestars x femreader! Feel free to add any character you want:3/
how would Some of the joestar’s react when they suddenly realize they left/forgot their wallet at home or a car that’s parked 5 blocks away for some reason..
The establishment was quite a EXPENSIVE One as they promised Reader a beautiful and calm evening. Maybe they would call someone or ask a friend for money?
WOULD THEY DINE AND DASH!? I just know that’s something bs Joseph would try.
notes: I lovveeee this idea its so funni, hope you enjoy!(also added DIO in the end because he technically counts, right?) tried to keep the time period friendly✌️🥺
Giorno and josuke are platonic btw! Jotaro is in part4
Jonathan:
when he realizes that his wallet is missing he internally worried, its not like himself to forget. its fine though, you needn't know. all he has to do is indiscriminately leave for a moment, after politely pardoning himself and made sure he was out of your line of sight - - he ran as fast as he could.
he shouted at the carriage driver through half way the distance
"Check inside for my wallet!"
when the mad did, and retrieved it he was ordered to throw it as far as he could in attempt decrease the time to reach it, and with a swift dash back he also yelled his gratitude to the driver.
Jonathan came back to you drenched in sweat,
"sorry sorry, I just...Had a complexions."
if you pry any more, he'll just vaguely answer, he does not want his lover to see her gentleman be so forgetful!
Joesph:
"Oh No!"
he exclaimed while patting himself, earning some dirty glances from the other customers. Once he noticed your gaze at him he immediately responded.
"Don't worry, its nothing." after a moment of deliberation he put a causal attitude and added "Just forgot my wallet."
"But don't think I don't have a way out of this, just wait until the waiter shows up."
when the two of you finish your dessert, and the waiter eventually approaches. Joseph sprung from his seat and carried you like a princess out the restaurant as fast as his legs could take him(which are in great shape mind you.)
"uncle speedwagon could cover the bill, and my bail"
jotaro:
"good grief."
he never shows panic, never will. he glances at his watch and his surroundings, and decided that telling you bluntly was the best option. "I left my wallet in the car, You stay here I'll get it back." straight to the point.
when he was a teen it would've been dining and dashing, but he's an adult now and on a date. he can't, It'll be disrespectful to you. And its not like it will take long...
...right the car is parked on the other side of the road because of how busy the restaurant is, he'll just cantering his way over. and with some slight help from Star Platinum to snag it without opening any doors, Jotaro came back without any trouble.
Josuke:
he excuses himself to the bathroom to call the only person who would help, as unceremoniously as possible. he dialed the number he knew by heart and prayed his one of his best buddies wasn't busy, and the relief he felt was immense.
"hello?"
"koichi! you got to help me!"
after explaining the situation he's in, Koichi took a long pause and answered "Do you want me to go to your house, get your wallet, and get to the restaurant you're at?"
"yes! exactly! Come on Koichi, I'm trusting you!"
another stretch of silence that made Josuke think his friend hung up, "...Fine, but you own me for a month!" and he would gladly do for a year for this.
the three trips that'll his friend would need will take long, So Josuke made sure he'll keep you occupied as he could, everything that happened to him was told in extruding detail - - like how he one a million yen, burned down a house by accident, anything really. until the familiar face appeared, and the both made sure to be as causal as the could. "hi Josuke-kun, can I talk to you for a sec?" and Josuke tried to appear startled like he didn't cause it "what? Koichi-kun? here? now way bud!"
"the receptionist was a nightmare- -"
"I know, I'm sorry, I'll make it up to you I'll promise!"
Giorno:
he contemplated on "borrowing" from any unfortunate staff with extra flair for your entertainment, though what's most effective is to ask his "third" man - - mista.
and that "ask" is subtle, just slightly raising his voice while in conversation to get His bodyguard to notice, and from under to table motion to pay the bill. Giorno will make sure that worries about money won't cross your mind, and if you ask about the payment- - even as a joke.
"Its already cover, you just enjoy the meal."
Jolyne:
She panicked a bit, but quickly thought of a plan - - use her stand. while she kept you occupied, Stone free unraveled until it reach the car that held her wallet. what she account for people stepping on the rope by weaving out of the way with surgical precision, and retrieved her wallet before her arm full unraveled.
she blew a sigh of relief after feeling the fabric, and waved it a bit to get your attention.
"You know I'm paying right?"
Dio:
his presence was enough for no waiter to come near and ask for the bill
you, though he was feeling a bit playful today. he noticed a waiter that was a little too snobbish, and pointed a finger at him - - not making any eye contact.
"you, come over here"
the waiter cautiously approached, gaze to floor as if one look would offend The vampire, before the man would spit out one word DIO interjects.
"give me your wallet."
the waiter flinched from surprise, "pardon?" he said, "now." DIO commanded, he added on "My worth is far greater than everyone in this establishment, I needn't to bother with you people." he stood his full height and addressed you "come, we're finished here"
notes: i just HAD to put my boy koichi there he's reliable fr fr❤️🩹❤️🩹❤️🩹 and I was cackling while writing joseph's and dio's. also that third man ref was to PHF mista refers to himself as such. regardless I'm happy i got to write my man's jonathan I LOVE GENTLEMAN!
Hiya!! This is my first time requesting so if this if this doesn’t float your boat it’s ok!
I keep seeing stuff where it’s implied reader is also a stand user but how about Mista x reader who is not a stand user, so whenever she catches him talking to the air (his stand) she thinks it’s just a quirk of his and is concerned but is too scared to ask about it 😭
Maybe the pistols also keep whining to him about her not being able to see them. Also maybe he’s trying to be intimate with her but he’s clearly distracted by something as if he’s being watched and provoked 💔
Also idm if other characters are included I’m just obsessed with Mista currently lol
ପ(๑•ᴗ•๑)ଓ ♡ Guido Mista x Fem Reader (No Stand) ପ(๑•ᴗ•๑)ଓ ♡
ദ്ദി •⩊• ) No Stand no problem, or it would be if his Stand weren’t like his actual babies ajsjdkendj
I hope you enjoy! This reignited my love for Mista tbh…. Love a silly man. I stuck to him and did a longer post, lowkey feeling Buccigang rn
˚. ᵎᵎ Perhaps Mista had a reason after all, to be so superstitious. When you finally acquiesced to his pestering you for a date, it had gone well. Of course it had, for you to still be with the guy this many months later.
˚. ᵎᵎ Affectionate, funny, attentive— no matter what you may be feeling or doing, he couldn’t resist you and you knew it intimately.
˚. ᵎᵎ But you couldn’t help but immediately pick up on his… quirk.
˚. ᵎᵎ The best way you could describe it would be as if he had imaginary friends. But they were also actively antagonistic or needy, sometimes?
˚. ᵎᵎ Why you would imagine friends who annoyed you? You couldn’t tell. But that had to be what it was.
˚. ᵎᵎ Sometimes it barely occurred at all. A full date at an arcade went by with Mista’s only complaints being that you were better than him at air hockey. A movie night at home where each of you laughed over the bad acting. Totally peaceful.
˚. ᵎᵎ Then, there were days. Just…. Days.
“Shut up— no, not you, I’m sorry!”
“I need to step out for just a minute. Wait they— really, they have our table ready? UGH— no, I’m not mad at you, I promise, just one second—“
“Eat. Slower.”
“Get back here or I— I’m not worried if you want to walk ahead! Haha, don’t… worry…”
˚. ᵎᵎ He apologizes PROFUSELY every time, both endearing and worrying.
˚. ᵎᵎ It’s not that you worry something is wrong with him (well, maybe a little). And it is really, really funny when he’s attempting to grab at something that isn’t there, only to trip a little and nearly fall over.
˚. ᵎᵎ More like… if it wasn’t something in his head… is whatever haunting him after you too?
˚. ᵎᵎ Once or twice you’ve felt what could only be described as another finger on the outside of your hand, when he holds it.
˚. ᵎᵎ Or something tickling your nose right before you sleep.
˚. ᵎᵎ Or— the absolute scariest, you remember with horror— a moment you were sat on Mista’s lap.
Straddling him, your shirt tossed to the side. One of his hands caressing your hip, the other loosely cradling the back of your head, the smell of musk and gunpowder tickling your nose along his stubble. His tongue on your bottom lip. The lights were low, downright romantic. Impressive for him.
Finally you’d gotten that damn beanie off of him and could play with his curls, you told him how much you loved his hair, and still. Heat grew between your bare chests. Your heart thudding as—
You yelped, and jumped so violently you almost fell off Mista’s lap and he had to scramble to grab you. Cursing, but his tone was lined with concern.
“Babe, babe, what was that?”
“I-I’m sorry!” You stammered. Brown eyes met yours, his brow crinkled in concern— god he’s handsome, but not the time. “I swear… I swear it felt like, like you moved your hand to my hair. But I can feel them not there too, like, clearly—“ you gesture to his hands, VERY MUCH not on your scalp. “Did your ghosts take an interest in me? God you really are unlucky, huh?” Weakly laughing, you tap at his chest. Gods. It takes everything not to cringe at yourself.
Just when everything was normal, now you were the one making a fuss out of things.
“Let’s just ignore it. I’m sorry.”
“Don’t worry,” he assured you, rubbing a circle on your hip. Though… you can’t help but notice how his eye darted annoyedly, towards a spot above your shoulder, not too far from where you felt the sensation. And his smile was a little tight, when he looked back at you.
“Howsabout we take this to the bedroom, yeah, babe? My ghosts have to have at least a little dignity, yeah?” The emphasis made you stiffen a bit. Did he see something…?
But you shook your head. A good night, you wanted a good night dammit. He pecked your cheek.
“C’mon, cutie. I’m not done with loving you yet.”
˚. ᵎᵎ Mista is, unfortunately, in a hell of his own making.
˚. ᵎᵎ And it is not the least bit helpful that he’s surrounded by “I told you so”-ers in the forms of Abbachio and Bucciarati.
“Mista.” Bucciarati’s voice is gentler— but still firm enough to shut Mista’s mouth as he opens it to protest. Blue eyes level with his. “I don’t care what you tell her. But not the truth. Do you understand?”
˚. ᵎᵎ And so, he agonized: and really, he was just grateful you weren’t freaking out on him 24/7. Because he was.
˚. ᵎᵎ Because THEY were.
˚. ᵎᵎ Number 5 seemed especially distraught that you couldn’t see them. He was really hoping for another ally against Number 3, and it becomes a real issue because he likes you. A lot.
˚. ᵎᵎ Doubly annoying for their user, who, exasperated, really doesn’t want to gang up even more on the little guy. But does he have to do it in the middle of dates?
˚. ᵎᵎ It’s most often Number 5 and Number 2 that cling to you, but if Number 1 goes, all of them do. Leading to incidents like the one above.
˚. ᵎᵎ They get that you aren’t a Stand user, but they aren’t bound, like their user, to a code of conduct. So it’s difficult for them to understand why you can’t at least know about them.
˚. ᵎᵎ Secretly, Mista agrees too. You’re basically his lucky charm. Your blessing on the Pistols? He doubted he’d ever miss a shot again.
˚. ᵎᵎ In the meantime though— he’s really, really just grateful you don’t question him too much.
˚. ᵎᵎ Stammering to himself in the middle of dates. Swatting at the air. Insisting on stepping outside what felt like every thirty minutes. Anyone else would think he had some friends in the head…. Or worse, he was cheating.
˚. ᵎᵎ But just as he accepts all of your quirks, you accept him: his superstitions, the tics of his Stand, his easygoing nature that borders on carelessness.
˚. ᵎᵎ It’s too easy to be like that with you. You make him relax.
˚. ᵎᵎ No wonder the reflection of his soul swarms you like butterflies: in the breeze, you laugh, unable to tell that the Stand is peppering you with kisses, and your nose scrunches.
