Archive of Our Own ^beta

Chapter Text

I thank all the amazing people reading, commenting, and leaving kudos on this work, even though I don’t have an update schedule like I used to. I still love JoJo and I will add chapters to this collection every now and then, but I dipped my toes in a few other fandoms I want to indulge in. So I marked this as completed for the time being. For now I won’t accept any more requests. On the off chance that I decide to open them up again, I keep my old request guidelines below.

I write for the following characters

Part 1 - Jonathan Joestar, Dio Brando
Part 2 - Joseph Joestar, Caesar A. Zeppeli, Kars
Part 3 - Jotaro Kujo, Muhammad Avdol, Noriaki Kakyoin, Jean Pierre Polnareff, Dio Brando
Part 4 - Josuke Higashikata, Okuyasu Nijimura, Rohan Kishibe, Jotaro Kujo
Part 5 - Bucci Gang, Trish Una, Risotto Nero, Melone, Jean Pierre Polnareff
Part 6 - Jolyne Kujo, Jotaro Kujo
Part 7 - Johnny Joestar, Gyro Zeppeli, Hot Pants, Diego Brando
→ I may have written for a character not listed here, but I still won't accept requests for that character.

What I won’t write

Pedophilia, incest, rape
Kinks related to body-fluids, animals
Self harm, depression, mental illnesses of all kinds
Yandere, explicit gore
Pregnancy / reader being a mother
→ Additions to be made if a request makes me uncomfortable.

What I will write

→ As long as I didn’t specify in the rules that I don’t write for a certain topic, feel free to ask me for anything.
I’m pretty open about kinks or prompts. I am always happy to write a bout:
Smut, fluff, angst (with a happy ending)
Polyamory / Threesomes
Alternative Universe
Stand Play / Innappropiate Use of Stands
Femdom and related kinks

Chapter Text

Josuke could hear Okuyasu's laughter in the hall of the dormitory, not even anywhere near his own room. As always, his friend had such a deep and booming voice, not even the broadest wall could muffle his laugh. The closer Josuke got, the louder Okuyasu was, though, now Josuke could also hear another giggle, higher and more feminine. Behind closed eyes, he could imagine your bright smile. Josuke was on the way back from his part-time job, the additional money he earned was directly spent on hobbies and friends - in this case, you and Okuyasu. All the tension that had built up throughout the day immediately disappeared as he opened the door to his room and saw you both on the floor.

Okuyasu leaned back against the bed, legs bent so you could sit comfortably in front of him. His arms were wrapped around your middle and he held a controller in front of your stomach, just like you did. Your legs were stretched out and both of you laughed while looking at the screen in front of you. However, the moment Josuke opened the door, both of you looked up. Your already big smile grew even wider, making Josuke all warm and fuzzy inside. It was always a great feeling to be greeted so fondly - treated like something special. Okuyasu patted the mattress behind him. 

"Sit down! We were waiting for you!” he said in his familiar ebullient manner and Josuke closed the door behind him, falling into bed. "How was the job?" You asked, turning your head ever so slightly in Josuke's direction just to hear the all-too-familiar sound of the game-over screen. Cursing, you looked back and Okuyasu raised his hands cheering. "Unfair, I wasn’t paying attention!" You said, but Okuyasu simply ignored it. “No need to pout, sweetcheeks. You didn't have a chance at winning anyway. I’ll let you win next time, though. Promise!” Okuyasu placed his chin on the top of your head and you playfully nudged him in his stomach, before turning back to Josuke.

Josuke watched you two with a gentle smile. He always enjoyed coming back into the dorm room after a long day. Most of the time you and Okuyasu were there before him and the playful mood between you always helped him relax. His eyes met yours and he gifted you a warm smile. "Work was okay, how was your day?" You just shrugged your shoulders and handed him your controller. "I tried to learn, but Oku wanted to play." Without hesitation Josuke accepted the controller and started the next round, playing against Okuyasu. "Don’t act like you’d rather have learned!" Okuyasu said and pulled you closer to his chest, knitting his eyebrows in concentration, focused on the game at hand.

“Of course I’d rather play with you. But now and then you have to put some work into your studies, Oku. I don't want to revise several semesters. You know - like you.” Okuyasu only huffed in response. Josuke, on the other hand, laughed at your teasing, while staring at the screen. You turned in Okuyasu's arms and started placing little kisses on his neck. He just tilted his head to the side, giving you more room to play. Thinking your show of affection was nothing more than a silent apology for your teasing, he was lulled into a sense of security, before you playfully bit his skin, earning a surprised gasp in return.

"Hey, whatcha doing there?", Okuyasu complained and you noticed a glance from Josuke before he looked back at the screen. In response, you shrugged and started sucking on the bite mark. With each passing moment, Okuyasu became more fidgety, still trying to concentrate on the game. As you leaned back, a red spot was already forming on his skin, probably turning some shades darker over time. Satisfied, you smiled, looking up to meet Okuyasu's eyes, his cheeks slightly flushed. At that moment the melody of the game-over-screen echoed through the room once more. 

This time Josuke cheered and Okuyasu seemed almost shocked. 'Player 2 wins' emblazoned on the screen, large, almost mocking, letters. Okuyasu pouted and placed his chin back on your head. Smiling smugly, you winked at Josuke over Okuyasu’s shoulder. Josuke mirroring your expression with a wide grin. “No need to pout, handsome. You didn't have a chance against Josuke anyway. I’m sure he’ll let you win next time, though.” A barking laugh erupted from Josuke, Okuyasu only grumbled louder. Two strong arms wrapped around your back and with one vigorous yank, you were pulled onto Okuyasu's lap.

"You are always so resentful!" Whined Okuyasu and hugged you tightly to his strong chest. "I feel so betrayed! Didn't the kisses mean anything to you?" He continued to cry theatrically, making you laugh. "Every kiss means something to me," you answered honestly, placing little kisses on his forehead, punctuating every word, only stopping your movements as Josuke appeared in your field of vision. He had laid down on his stomach, chin resting on Okuyasu's shoulder. His fingers carefully ran through Okuyasu's hair, smiling at you. Leaning forward, you gave him a quick peck on the lips.

Okuyasu turned his head to face the young men behind him and you had a VIP seat for the occurring show - your two lovers sharing a tender kiss. A satisfied sigh escaped your lips. What could possibly be better than lying in your partner's arms and enjoying the peace and quiet after a long day? Well, maybe enjoy it with two loving partners. You never planned it - never planned this - but you wouldn’t have it any other way. It would be impossible for you to choose just one of them and the same applied for Okuyasu and Josuke. They both loved you, but their longstanding friendship with each other quickly developed into something more. Thank god - or anyone for that matter -, for bisexual men.

In fact, you had squeezed yourself into their relationship. You had met them at university, while they were already dating for a few months. One morning - after a party where you have had one over the eight -, you found yourself in exactly this room, in exactly this bed, between exactly these two men. A lot of drama, heartache, and arguments followed. But in the end, it had welded you three together. 

Satisfied, you snuggled closer to Okuyasu's chest and let the two exchange kisses for a while before carefully reaching for Josuke's neck. Said man parted lips with his lover and turned to you. You leaned forward, catching his mouth in a chaste kiss, before nibbling on his lower lip. Slow and loving, just according to your taste. You would have liked to continue, but Okuyasu decided to get up. He hugged your body with well build arms and simply lifted you off the floor. Sure, the two were strong, but it was easy to forget how much strength was actually contained in these mountains of muscles. With a laugh, you clung to Okuyasu, who fell into bed next to Josuke. 

Two pairs of lips attacked your neck and you were more than happy to surrender - rolling your head to the side to provide more skin for their onslaught. While the two were kissing your neck, you started to unbutton Okuyasu's jacket, revealing his chest. Josuke's kisses were gentle, occasionally licking your flushed skin. Okuyasu, on the other hand, loved to leave marks, sucking on your neck, biting gently. Pleasant shivers ran down your spine as Josuke caressed your inner thighs. Feathery touches that only fueled you lust even more. When Okuyasu started to explore your body with his hands, you impatiently pulled on his jacket - wanting it not only open but on the floor.

An amused chuckle bubbled up in Okuyasu's throat and he leaned back, kneeling in bed next to you to get rid of his jacket. You watched him contentedly and noticed Josuke out of the corner of your eyes - him laying down on his back to watch his best friend and lover. As Okuyasu crawled forward again, wanting to position himself between your legs, you shook your head. “No, that was such a nice show. Please don’t stop and take all your clothes off.” A moment's hesitation, then a grin reappeared on Okuyasu's lips. He started to unbutton his shirt and Josuke reached for the bedside table to turn on a CD player. Prince’s voice sounded from the speakers and you just shook your head in amusement. Of course, he would play that album.

By now the whole dorm probably knew that the moment Prince began to sing the first lines of 'Dirty Mind' you three would fuck like there was no tomorrow. Not stopping till the last notes of 'Partyup' faded away.

Slowly Okuyasu pulled the shirt over his head, then started to open his belt. Your eyes wandered dreamily over his flat stomach, up over his chiseled chest towards his broad shoulders, only to scurry down again and watch his hands open the belt buckle. Josuke's hand roamed over your thigh and you looked at him briefly, but he, too, had focused his eyes on Okuyasu. So you mirrored his movements - placed your hand on Josuke's leg and stroked up and down, close to his crotch but never quite there. 

While Okuyasu undid the button of his jeans, his eyes darted back and forth between Josuke and you. You weren’t quite sure if he welcomed the attention or shied away from it - but you were not able to contain a giggle, as he wiggled out of his jeans. The blush spreading on his face was adorable. His little striptease had been so erotic until now, and in a moment notice the mood changed to playful. Josuke's hand disappeared under the hem of your pants and skillful fingers crawled into your panties. Your giggles died down instantly and a low gasp escaped your lips as his fingers moved over your labia. Without looking at Josuke - eyes still on Okuyasu - you gripped his cock over the fabric of his pants.

Targeted, you stroked his cock with the palm of your hand from base to tip, feeling it twitch under your touch. Josuke moved his fingers over your entrance, circling your clit, caressing back down, pushing sightly, but not sinking inside. From time to time you gasped, in return your hand jerked his cock a little harder, coaxing him to groan. Okuyasu stared at you two, eyes blown wide with want, as he pushed down his pants, sliding his thumb inside the waistband of his underwear. Hot and heavy, his cock was already forming a tent under the fabric and he rubbed himself with the palm of his hand.

"Aren’t you taking them off?" Josuke asked in a dark voice and tilted his chin forward to point at Okuyasu's underwear. Not one for teasing, Okuyasu pulled the last piece of clothing he wore down, freeing his cock of its prison - it jumped from his underwear, hit his stomach, and twitched in excitement. Okuyasu quite literally threw himself between you and Josuke, shaking the whole bed in the process. Grinning, he turned to you, gave you a brief kiss on the cheek, then turned around and rolled over Josuke.

"Does it just seem that way to me, or are you always the first one to be naked?" You teased and sat up to kiss Okuyasu's shoulder blades, while he undressed Josuke. In response, you only received an approving grunt from Josuke - the two lovers were busy exchanging heated kisses, not really able to talk. With a smile, you started to undress yourself while staring at them. You couldn't pry your eyes away, the sight to addictive, to intoxicating. Okuyasu tugged impatiently on Josuke's top while Josuke opened his own pants and wiggled ungainly back and forth to pull them down. Neither of them seemed like they were ready to break their kiss, which made undressing a little more difficult and time-consuming. Not that you minded the show.

Between gasps and kisses, you had finished undressing and laid down beside your lovers, your head next to Josuke’s, making it easier for yourself to watch the heated exchange. The kiss was only released, as Josuke grabbed Okuyasu's cock and jerked him relentlessly. Said man threw his head back and moaned before he looked down again. A dreamy expression laid in his eyes, you could feel the love in every vein of your body. Josuke turned to you and reached out a hand, caressing your cheek and pulling you in for a tender kiss. A surprised noise fell from Okuyasu’s lips. "You're naked," he said dumbfounded and you had to contain a laugh. He was really something. 

Instead of returning a cheeky remark, you grabbed Okuyasu's arm and pulled him down for another short kiss, before whispering against his lips, "What would you like today?" All three of you were switches - satisfied in both the dominant as well as the submissive role. A fact that did nothing to limit your possibilities in bed. Talking openly about what everyone wanted helped to speed things up. 

Okuyasu rolled with almost everything, happy to please, as long as he was allowed to touch - not a big fan of just watching. Once, just to spice things up a little, you and Josuke had tried to tie him up so he had been forced in the role of an idle spectator. But he had whimpered and his pleading looks - almost like a kicked puppy -, had been heartbreaking. You immediately had untied him and never tried again afterwards.

"I'm exhausted from work," Josuke stated. "Let's have Oku top today." His broad grin was contagious and you mirrored his expression, then looked up at Okuyasu, who did the same. Well, it was seldom that he wouldn’t grin, but still. It was cute. As always, he had no objection, so you laid on your back and placed a hand on top of Josuke’s chest, fingers caressing his skin. Without a word, he rolled onto you and started kissing you again. Satisfied, you put your arms around his neck as he grabbed your legs, making himself room to lay between. His cock twitched against your abdomen, skin burning hot.

For a few seconds, it was just him and you - his rough hands on your hip, your breasts; his soft lips on your neck, your shoulders; his hot cock between your thighs. Suddenly, Josuke moaned and arched his back, as a result, his hips pressed even closer to yours. You looked curiously over his shoulders, staring at Okuyasu, whose arm moved in a telltale manner. You licked your lips in anticipation, after all, it was painfully obvious that Okuyasu prepared Josuke with his fingers.

"Does it feel good?" You purred against Josuke's neck and sucked on the reddened skin. Josuke groaned. "Yes. Oku, more.” Panting, Josuke pressed his face in your shoulder, hot breath rolled over your skin, resulting in goosebumps. A moan escaped your lips, as he greedily began to move his hip back and forth between Okuyasu's fingers and your wet pussy. While Okuyasu was preparing Josuke, you stretched out to the bedside table, hands fishing in a bowl next to the CD player. Condoms - you needed condoms. Finally finding one of the metallic packages, you carefully opened it. Pushing Josuke gently back, flat palm on his ripped chest, you took his cock in hand and rolled the condom over his erection. You stroked him a few times, before falling back again.

Josuke immediately started rolling his hips again, pushing himself against your pussy, groaning with every move. Okuyasu also reached for a condom and you watched him prepare himself. You couldn't exactly see what he was doing, due to Josuke's broad shoulders, but Okuyasu's facial expression was enough to let you know. Excited, Okuyasu bit his lower lip and rolled the condom over his cock, slapping it on Josuke's backside, before pushing it between his taunt asscheeks. When Okuyasu noticed your look, he leaned over Josuke's back, kissed his neck on the way, then stretched out further and pursed his lips.

You laughed and lifted your torso to catch Okuyasu's lips in a quick kiss. Josuke groaned almost offended, he had to bend in an unnatural way for you two to lock lips. "Kiss later, fuck now," he demanded impatiently and pushed his hip back, causing Okuyasu to groan darkly - a sound so sexy, it made you shiver in excitement. At the same moment Josuke grabbed his own cock and pressed it against your pussy. Looking up, catching your eyes, he silently asked for permission and as you winked at him in return, he thrusted forward. Your breath was caught in your throat, fingers clawing into his shoulders, just staring at him for a few silent seconds before you moaned in union. He had pushed inside till he bottomed out, just one deep thrust, filling you perfect .

Okuyasu enjoyed the show, cheeks dusted in flustered pink, and gripped Josuke's hip. "You okay, bro?" He asked in a rough voice and Josuke nodded. It never faced to amaze you, that even while dicking his lover down, he used that word, out of all possible nicknames he could use. It was just so Oku - for a lack of better words. Without hesitation, Okuyasu thrusted forward and you could see the exact moment in which Okuyasu pushed inside, followed by the moment in which he bottomed out. Josuke's expression was breathtaking, the way his lips parted, his eyes widened - you knew what he was feeling. After all, you had felt it yourself many times before. Then Josuke moaned and you felt him twitch inside you. One last time you gasped for air before Okuyasu began to drive home. Every push against Josuke's hip caused a loud slapping sound and pushed him further against you. Taken aback, you moaned together. You clawed at his shoulders as his cock hit deep - pushing all the right places. 

You could lay back and just enjoy the physical, as well as the visual, stimulation. Later was almost more perfect - Josuke's eyes wide blown, lips parted in a silent scream, skin flushed; Okuyasu’s concentrated expression, eyes wandering back and forth between Josuke's butt and your face, his forehead dripping sweat. He smiled gently at you, groaning with every thrust, accelerating his speed. Powerful and deep thrusts pushed Josuke forward and into your wanting core, walls twitching in excitement.

Your movements were limited, but as Josuke sank deep inside you again, you pushed your hips up, meeting him halfway, moaning together. Josuke filled you perfectly, adding the pleasant view above you into the mixture, your orgasm approached very quickly. Every strong movement from Okuyasu jarred the entire bed and absent-mindedly you pressed a pillow between the headboard and the wall. Josuke’s head fell between your breasts and he muffled his moans against your skin, sometimes biting sightly to keep himself quiet. With each thrust, Josuke's hip jerked forward against yours, hitting deep inside, making your toes curl. 

With a hard grip in his hair, you pressed Josuke’s face between your breasts and looked directly into Okuyasu lust hazed eyes, thrusting mindlessly in the body below him. Blood boiling in your veins, seething from head to toes, the heat almost unbearable. Each hard thrust, each kiss on tender skin, each passionate gaze - raw rapture. Josuke was the first to come undone. Moaning loudly, he threw his head back and moved his hip a few more times, erratic and sloppy. Muscles tensed, hot cum filled the condom, cock twitching with every spurt, still, Josuke didn’t stop moving. Not until he shot his last load and only then his body sagged down and buried you under his heavy weight. 

It was difficult to breathe and the fact that Okuyasu never stopped to fuck Josuke didn't make it any easier. Okuyasu moaned, grabbed Josuke's ass with two hands to play with the soft cheeks, staring deep into your eyes. Each of his thrusts was still passed on to you, even though Josuke was slowly going flaccid after cumming, whimpering on your chest, slightly drooling from overstimulation. You were so, so close - almost tasting the longed-for orgasm on the tip of your tongue. It only took two fingers, rubbing circles over your clitoris, and everything exploded. Eyes rolling back, colors blurred, forming an alternative, expressionistic reality. Moaning, walls constricted around Josuke's cock, wanting to pull him in deeper. Colors fading into black and your whole body went slack. 

Josuke moaned softly, but as he pulled his fingers back, you noticed the cheeky sheen in his eyes. You loved this jackass. Exhausted, you looked up at Okuyasu, who was still moving his hips, chasing his own release. His eyes, usually a dark shade, were even more obscured. His lips opened slightly, tongue sticking out, licking over dry lips. His thrusts sloppy, needy, fucking hard into Josuke and, thus, Josuke into you. It was too much and you grabbed Josuke's hand, interweaving your fingers with his. However, you didn’t dare to pry your eyes away, wanting to see Okuyasu at his high. Finally, he came - hips snapping forward for the  last time, mouth opened in a silent scream. What a sight! Then he slumped against Josuke's back and once more you were buried under the weight of two grown men.

Panting heavily, you patted alternately against Josukes then Okuyasu's shoulder, before the two finally realized that they were crushing you. One after the other rolled to the side, releasing you from the weight pressing down on your lungs. You laid side by side in bed, Prince's 'Partyup' was accompanied by your panting. As the last notes of the song ended and the album was over you laughed out loud.

“The album is too short! Next time I want to hear 1999. We have to improve our stamina.” The two joined in laughing.

Chapter Text

There were many sugarcoating terms for your physique. Full, soft, curvy. There were days when you felt good about yourself, accepted these positive adjectives as part of your life. Accepted your curves, your imperfections. Whenever you looked at yourself in the mirror, you tried to recall these words. Sometimes it worked, you winked cheekily at your reflection and complemented yourself before you left your apartment and went on with your day like nothing was bothering you. It was not as easy on other days. You looked at the chubby body of your reflection and wondered how long you had to starve yourself to become as thin as the beautiful models on magazine covers. Today was one of the latter days.

You pressed your hands on your stomach and tried to hold your breath while standing sideways to the mirror. Your belly got a little smaller, but it was nowhere flat. You turned your back to the mirror and looked over your shoulder. Your butt wasn't round, it was huge. You turned back again and leaned forward to grab your thighs. Not toned. Not well-formed. Excess flesh squished out between your fingers. Slowly, you straighten up and raise your arm to pull at the skin of your upper arm, pinching it with the fingers of your other hand. It was too much. Always too much. Shaking your head, you dressed yourself in your school uniform and headed for class.



You were in class before it actually started, sitting in your usual place in front, right next to the entrance, leaning on the wall. Only a handful of other students were already present, so none of the conversations taking place were annoyingly loud. The door opened soundly, Yukako standing inside the doorframe, back still turned. She was beautiful. Her body, her hair, her lips. You envied her. Men liked her, she even had a boyfriend. Talk of the devil - Koichi stood in front of her, much smaller than his girlfriend, still holding her hand. The two of them had probably walked to school together. When Yukako turned, her eyes focused on you. "You!" She exclaimed and stepped inside, Koichi in tow. If she were not one of your best friends, you would be terribly afraid of her tearing your head off. At least you could imagine her doing so, with the way she looked at you. Did you do anything to make her angry?

She slammed her hands on the table in front of you and leaned forward. "Yukako, please," Koichi began soothingly, but she just silenced him with an angry look. That was unusual, normally the two spew rainbows and butterflies at each other, they were one of these disgustingly cute couples. They had one of these disgustingly cute relationships you wanted for yourself. Though you would never admit that out loud. "I know you take Kishibe's words to heart, but he's obviously an idiot." Oh. So that's what this was about. Slowly your eyes trailed to Koichi, who only rubbed his neck in embarrassment. Apparently he had told Yukako about yesterday's event. "It's nothing, Yu," you began, giving her a reassuring smile, but she didn’t believe you. She had known you for so long, you were in the same class for years. Through her you also got to know Koichi, Josuke and Okuyasu. Some of your best friends.

“Don’t lie to me, it’s okay if you feel down because of the things he said. But he's an idiot.” You were not used to hearing that kind of language from her, so you just laughed. "Yu, it hurt, yes, but I don’t care about his opinion. I only knew him for like five seconds and don't intend to meet him again.” This time it was Koichi who reacted. He cleared his throat and stepped forward, placing a small package on the table. "He wanted me to give this to you." You eyed the beautifully wrapped gift suspiciously. "What's this? An apology gift?” Koichi nodded quickly. He liked Rohan Kishibe, you knew that, but even Koichi wouldn't defend the behavior of the artist, would he? "He wanted me to give this to you." You raised your eyebrows. "Did he also say that he wants to apologize?” Your gaze pierced Koichi, who jumped nervously from one leg to the other.

"Not exactly," he started and you just shook your head. Of course, he didn't want to apologize. For a moment you were considering declining the gift but were just too curious. You slowly opened the lid and marveled at the sight of the beautiful fabric in your favorite color. Gently you touched the garment and could feel the quality of the material. Awestruck you took the fabric out of the package and the gift unfolded into a wonderful dress from an extremely expensive designer brand. But the further you unfolded it, the more furious you became. More and more fabric appeared and you checked the label - Rohan clearly didn't want to apologize.

Instead, he took your heart, yanked it from your chest, and threw it to the floor. It was certainly difficult to estimate your size, but gifting you a dress so much bigger than you actually were? You couldn't suppress the tears as you jumped up and ran to the girl's bathroom.



Yesterday you had visited Rohan Kishibe with Koichi. The one and only Kishibe - a famous mangaka whose works you had been following with great interest for some time now. When Koichi mentioned that he knew him, you had been stroked to meet him yourself. Well, you would have never expected him to be such an asshole. On the way to the mangaka's house, you had met Josuke and Okuyasu who decided to accompany you. Josuke mentioned something of Kishibe being an idiot - first red flag, that you shouldn’t have ignored. As Kishibe appeared at the door, your heart almost jumped out of your chest. He looked even better in real life than in interviews. Rohan had briefly scanned the small gathering outside his front door, greeted Koichi, ignoring Josuke as his eyes fell on you.

"You are fat." A simple statement shattering your heart to pieces. He wasn't wrong per se, still, getting confronted so suddenly hurt and you were at a loss for words. All three of your schoolmates just starred, mouth wide open. A second later Josuke and Okuyasu literally jumped the mangaka while Koichi tried to de-escalate the situation. You just ran home. It was nice to know that your friends had your back, but it still hurt. Rohan Kishibe was just another arrogant man in the world who thought your body was his problem. Hearing such insults were nothing new to you, that didn’t help to soothe the pain. But this gift? It was irreverent.



You called in sick the rest of the school day, not wanting to cry in any of your classes. Though you returned the next day, it took a few more to actually feel better. You banished the memory of Kishibe in the backmost corner of your brain and it helped. Everything returned to normal, if only you hadn't met him again shortly thereafter.



You only wanted to meet Yukako to learn, choosing a cafe near the school. Armed with documents, pencils, and schoolbooks, you occupied a table and sipped on a hot drink while waiting for Yukako. Then he sat down in the chair facing you. Should you be upset, scared, or confused? You didn’t know. "That place is already taken," you said dismissively and looked back at your textbook, trying to wrap yourself in an aura of 'piss off and leave me alone'. But Rohan remained seated.

“I don't see anyone here just now. So I'm staying.” He was such an arrogant prick and it made your blood boil with hatred. "Did you already eat something? My treat. What would you like? I bet you like sweets. Two pieces of cake? Three?" You just stared. Was he serious? His outrageous grin was bad enough but why did he have to be so offensive? It was hurtful and your eyes teared up, but your anger prevailed. Trembling, you put your papers back in your backpack and stood up. “Is that a no? I'm happy to buy you anything you’d like.” Rohan leaned back in his chair and eyed your body shamelessly.

Without hesitation, you reached for the mug on the table and poured the hot drink over his head. Not hot enough to burn his skin, but a sufficient distraction. Rohan screamed and jumped to his feet, looked down at his wet clothes, and back at you. But you were long gone, had used his shock to stick a bill under the cup - payment for the drink including a tip -, and ran.



To your misery, these were recurring events. Sometimes it was Koichi who brought a present, sometimes you met Rohan by chance on the street. Every time it ended in chaos and with you in tears. Yukako, Josuke and Okuyasu were ready to strangle Rohan. Even Koichi had to admit, that Rohan was acting like a huge dick. Nevertheless, he still tried to answer for the mangaka. "Believe me, he does mean no harm," Koichi assured in panic after delivering another gift. This time it was handmade candy from an expensive home-made brand. But they were pink and each one beared the face of a little pig, black beady eyes starring mockingly in your soul. They were disgustingly cute and you’d probably bought them yourself if you had that kind of money. Yet the message was obvious. Obviously insulting.

"How could I possibly interpret this in a positive way?" You shouted at Koichi and pushed the bag of candy in his face. “Why are you bringing me this anyway? Aren’t you my friend? He didn't even apologize, Koichi. He terrorizes me with each of these gifts. And you are trying to defend him!” Koichi huddled in front of you, his shoulders sagging. “Of course I'm your friend. But I am also Rohan's friend and I know him. He is somewhat arrogant, sure. But he is not trying to hurt you. These are his attempts at apologizing. You have to believe me!" You huffed resentful - 'somewhat arrogant' was the understatement of the century. How could you believe anything Koichi said? Any alleged apology had only lead to more tears.

Even if Rohan really tried to apologize to you, gifts would never be enough. A serious, verbal apology - that was all you wanted to hear. Only that, no gifts. Well, he could rot in hell for as much as you cared, as long as he left you alone. You firmly pressed the bag of candy to Koichi's chest. "Never bring me one of his presents again, Koichi." With these words, you stomped out of the room and made your way to Rohan Kishibe's house. If he didn't want to understand that you had no desire to see him anymore, you would need to make im understand. You knocked on his front door and didn't stop until it opened. 

Rohan looked annoyed, but as he saw you, a smile crept on his lips. He leaned casually against the door frame and looked down on you. "To what do I owe the honour?" Oh, how badly you wanted to beat his smug face in. You had never been a violent person, but something about him just made you feel this way. “Stop it, Kishibe. I don't know why you would do all this, just to have a little fun, but I want you to leave me alone. If you speak to me again or contact me in any other way, I will get an injunction.” Rohan just frowned. He looked seriously surprised.

You slowly turned, intending to leave, but he opened his lips. You interrupted him. "If your answer is anything else than 'understood', I am going to scream." He closed his mouth and crossed the arms over his chest. Finally ready to leave, you suddenly felt dizzy and stumbled forward slightly. Then everything went black.



Groaning, you opened your eyes. Instead of seeing the sky, as you expected, you looked at a concrete ceiling. You turned your head questioningly and took in your surroundings. Some kind of living room elegantly but sparsely furnished - like the cover of a furniture magazine. You lay on a sofa and sat up slowly, head still spinning. "You're awake," a voice said behind you and you turned your head once more. Of course, it was Rohan. He strode over to you, handing you a glass filled with water. "Drink." You hesitantly took the glass from him and pictured yourself splashing it in his face. But your temples throbbed and some water would certainly counteract the upcoming headache.

"Why am I here?" You finally asked after emptying the glass. “You stumbled. Passed out." You instinctively touched the back of your head, but felt no wound. It sounded like a lie, but there was no other way to explain why you were here. It was nice of him to help you, but there was no way in hell would you tell him that. You wanted to leave, so you got up without a word and approached the door. As you opened it, your determination suddenly faded away. You tried several times to force your body to move, but your feet stayed in a place like they had struck roots. Slowly you closed the door and turned back to Rohan. A strange feeling bubbled in your stomach.

"Sit down, I want to talk to you." No request, a command. The nerve of that guy! You opened the door again, stared at your feet. Why wouldn’t you move? Your own body worked against you and your mind screamed at you, “you don't actually want to leave.” Slowly you faced Rohan. What was going on here? You shook your head in confusion. Of course, you wanted to stay. You had to resolve this argument before you could leave. Rohan certainly had a reasonable explanation for all of this.

“We have nothing to talk about. You're an arrogant asshole, Kishibe,” you snapped, despite your contradicting thoughts. Rohan took a seat on the sofa and just looked at you, disapprovingly. “For weeks you have been receiving gifts from me, I have tried several times to take you out to dinner. I don't understand why you are acting so prickly.” You starred, mouth agape. "Prickly?" You felt like screaming and crying at the same time. “You terrorized me for weeks! First, you insult me in front of my friends, then you give me a fucking tent as a joke, think it is okay to assume that I eat so much cake, oh and who could forget comparing me to a pig? You surely had a great time making fun of me! Make fun of the fat girl. She won’t mind, right?”

Something like understanding flashed over Rohan's face. "That wasn't my intention," he started but you silenced him with an angry scream. “I'm fat, I know! That doesn't give you any damn right to act this way! You are a disgusting piece of shit. Instead of just letting it go you have to twist the knife a few times, huh? Is it so much fun to hurt me?” Tears rose in your eyes, anger, and shame colored your cheeks red. Rohan stood and approached you. "It really wasn't my intention to hurt you." Yet again, he didn’t apologize. You shook your head and took a step back. "I just want to get out of here." You opened the door but were unable to move. Then everything went dark.



The way from Rohan's house to your own home was over in a flash. Bizarre as it was, you could hardly remember anything. Just the raw wrath you felt for Rohan, the strange feeling as you couldn't leave his house and the conversation you had with him. Whatever, hopefully he had finally understood that he should leave you alone. But as you tried to get the mail the next day, there was a large package standing at your door. He wouldn’t, would he? Of course, he would. Should you just throw it in the trash? Burn it? Be petty and send it back unopened? Not doing any of the above, you picked up the package and carried it in your room.

Curiosity was a stupid emotion. You knew this was a bad idea, you didn't want to know how he was going to insult you this time, but you needed to. If the size of the package was an indicator on how much it was going to hurt this time, you’d be drowning in your own tears. With a sigh, you got a knife and cut the tape open. The first thing you noticed was the dress, just like the one in his first package. How uncreative. As you tossed it aside, however, it unfolded and your eyes fell on the label. It was the right size. Confused, you pulled out the next item. A voucher for the cafe in which you had wanted to learn with Yukako. You continued unpacking.

All of the items were things he had already gifted you. Only this time it was - right? Even somewhat nice. It was strange. After unpacking a bag full of candy - this time depicting a colorful floral pattern - you took out a card. A number was written on the heavy paper. You stared at the numbers for a long time, kneeling on the floor in front of the package, surrounded by small gifts. A phone number. You didn't know why you were doing it, but deep down inside you hoped it was really just a misunderstanding. So you called.

"Kishibe," he said, you said nothing. "Who," he started annoyed, but you interrupted him. "I told you to stop sending me things." For a few seconds, there was a dead silence, you could hear his faint breathing, he seemed to be thinking. "I'm sorry." And your heart contracted. You could almost feel how these words inflicted physical pain on him. “Whether you believe me or not, I never intended to hurt you. I thought the gifts would please you. I guess I was - wrong.” You just shook your head in disbelief.

“Let’s just say I believe you, what was about our first meeting, your really nice first words to me? You surely have a terrific explanation for that.” Your voice had a certain edge to it. You were not ready to forgive him, still, you really hoped he was serious. And as he started to explain, you listened.



Josuke and Yukako were vehemently against you meeting him, but you had already made up your mind. A Saturday after school, hair styled, faint makeup on, Rohan's dress clothing your body. You would help him with a project. Rohan preferred to sketch from real life over imagination, he believed it helped his stories seem more alive . But never before had he drawn an overweight person. Yes, his 'greeting' had been outrageous, his gifts tasteless, and he was still an arrogant bastard. But he had never meant any harm. He had apologized again in person, even though you saw how hard it was for him to do so. He wanted you as a model - you of all people!

“I was surprised to see you. You're on the chubby side, yes, but that's perfect. That's exactly what I was looking for, what I am still looking for. Model for me,” he had said. You had declined, but he besieged you for weeks, continued to gift you things - chosen with a little more care this time. He took you out to cafes, gave you jewelry and clothes. He seemed to care and you accepted after all. You would be lying if said you didn't like the attention of a man as attractive as Rohan. 

From time to time he could still be infuriating to talk to. If he didn't like a conversation or didn't care for a specific topic, he focused on other things, ignoring you completely. He was rude, brutally honest, and his confidence was on the verge of narcissism. Still, you enjoyed spending time with him. Today would be the third time you would be modeling for him. And every time he managed to make you feel like the most beautiful woman in the world. You had forgiven him.



You sat on his lawn, looking up at Rohan who was sitting on the porch of his house, balancing a block on his knees. Pencil moving in skillful strokes over the paper, capturing your appearance in a sketch, his eyebrows knitted in concentration. He worked surprisingly fast. If you hadn't seen the results from the last few sessions and knew how talented he was, you would have expected a doodle - not a fully rendered piece of art. Rohan grunted unhappily, then shook his head disapprovingly. You had never seen him look at his pictures so contemptuously. "Should I sit differently?" You asked, uncertain to why he was distressed. "No!" He snapped back, frustrated, but relaxed when he noticed your crestfallen look.

"No," he repeated a little more gently, "it's nothing about the pose. It just seems like I can't quite portray you the way I want to.” Usually you shouldn't move while he was drawing, but you stood and walked towards him. You looked over his shoulder at his work. Filigree lines, forming into the portrait of a chubby woman - a paradox in itself, still, hauntingly beautiful. It was no doubt you. Every curve, every hideous curve, and yet you couldn’t pry your eyes away. How did he manage to make your body look stunning?

“Kishibe, it's perfect. Why would you think differently?” He just shook his head and tore the paper from the block, revealing a second drawing of you. Just as beautiful as the first, but still not to his liking. He ripped it down like the first, a few more to follow. Only when he stopped you kneeled down and gathered the pictures. He really was exhaustingly eccentric. "They're not beautiful enough," he said vehemently, looking up at you. You met his turquoise eyes. "Are the pictures not beautiful enough, or am I not?" You asked, still not able to decipher what he was thinking. His response was an annoyed huff. "Don’t ask such silly things." Dumbfounded, you pressed the drawings closer to your chest.

"You could seek for a new model, you know? Maybe that would help," you began quietly, trying to suppress the tremors in your voice. He didn't meat to hurt you, you already knew that, but it still stung. Now he just looked annoyed. "I don’t need another model. You are beautiful. My drawings just don't do you justice.” He complimented you without batting an eye, but when he had to admit that his drawings weren't perfect, his whole body tensed. He really was a narcissist. 

Your heart started pounding wildly before it contracted painfully. It was so easy for him to call you beautiful, but he didn't know how much it meant to you. Men didn't find you 'beautiful'. Especially not men like him. Rohan looked like he had arisen from the cover of a fashion magazine, he looked perfect . "If you don't like these, may I keep them?" You asked and his gaze softened. "Do you really like them?" You nodded with a smile. “I've never felt so gorgeous before. You drew me like a goddess. It’s - It’s too beautiful, to be me.”

Within seconds his eyes turned dark again. "What do you mean ‘too beautiful’?" Surprised, you took a step back as he got up and approached you. "I didn't want to offend you! You are a skilled artist, it’s just," you whined, but stopped, as he pushed you back against the wall of the house. One arm stretched out, palm pressing right next to your head, cornering you between his body and the wall behind you. Under you breath you murmured, "I'm just not as perfect as you portray me in the pictures."

Soft lips pressed against yours and your heart stopped. Rohan moved his mouth in a skilled way, licking your lower lip and raised your chin with one finger. But you didn’t react, so he leaned back, releasing your lips. He turned his head to the side so that he didn't have to look you in the eyes, a hand stroking through his hair. "You didn't like that," he said. It was his subtle way of saying 'I'm sorry'. He really did everything he could to avoid apologizing. Instead of answering you dropped the pictures and flung your arms around his neck to seal your lips together once more. 

For a moment Rohan was just as static as you had been seconds before, only for him to lean forward, making it easier for you to kiss him. He pulled you in a soft hug and you pressed yourself against him. Nimble hands danced over your sides, down to your hips. Hot palms rested there, before his fingers squeezed down, but not seeming to mind the few extra pounds - quite the contrary actually. He seems to like it. Kneaded your hips for a while, before slowly raising his hands and cupping your cheeks with them. Deepening the kiss in a tender way, before pulling away. You opened your eyes and met his.

"You are beautiful. You would be beautifully thin, you would be beautifully thicker. Your weight doesn't define you. You are beautiful." Words filled with adoration, making you feel all warm and fuzzy inside, but his voice was severe like he was angry with you for thinking otherwise. Nevertheless, he brought a smile to your face. "I didn’t take you as such a romantic, Kishibe."

He rolled his eyes, but otherwise ignored your teasing. “Rohan. Call me Rohan.” You let his name roll off your tongue, quite pleased with the way it sounded before he captured your lips in another kiss.



Warm sunrays tickled your nose and your eyelids fluttered open. Slender arms wrapped around your body, pulling you in a tight hug. A warm breath rolled over your collarbone and with a smile you peeled yourself out of Rohan's embrace, crawling out of bed without waking him. Sweat from last night had uncomfortably dried on your skin and your body screamed for a warm shower. Butt naked, you sneak out of the bedroom towards the bathroom to seize his shower. In the bathroom, you passed the sink and the mirror above it. You stopped and stared at your reflection. 

There were days when you felt good about yourself. Accepted your curves, your imperfections. It was not as easy on other days. You looked at the chubby body of your reflection and wondered how long you had to starve yourself to become as thin as the beautiful models on magazine covers. 

Today was one of the former days.

Chapter Text

He was not in your class, but you still knew him, after all, he was always hanging around in front of the school gate with Josuke - the crush of all female students. Everyone knew them. You passed the two every day while they were having the time of their lives joking and laughing over god knows what. While some girls greeted Josuke, they ducked their heads after Okuyasu stared them down. But after the girls ignored him and disappeared from view, he would look like a kicked puppy. 

Sometimes Josuke put a hand on his shoulder and said something you didn't understand, just too far away to be able to hear anything. Other times, Josuke elbowed him in the side and told a joke that made Okuyasu smile again. You could only imagine how grueling it would be to be overshadowed by your best friend. But you also had to admit that Okayasu looked kinda scary at first glance. It's a good thing that you never cared much for appearances.

You weren't very interested in talking to him, at first, but every time you saw his shoulders drop and these puppy dog eyes filled with despondency - it forced you to your knees. Only as he stopped going to school for a few days did you decide to talk to him next time you would see him. Whether out of pity or honest interest - you weren’t quite sure. 



Bandages on the face, arm in a sling, bruises everywhere on his skin - at least on parts the school uniform did not cover from your attentive eyes. The next time you saw Okuyasu, he looked pitiful. The injuries did nothing to hide the fact, that he seemed like a thug. On the contrary, they emphasised the image even more. But the way he held his body made you believe there was more to him than meets the eye. Or he was just a thug who had received a great thrashing and was in a lot of pain. 

You stopped briefly on the sidewalk, observed a couple of students who, as always, greeted Josuke but evaded Okuyasu. For a few minutes you just stood and stared, probably looking like a creep stalking Josuke, then you stepped closer. "Good morning, Higashikata, Nijimura." Both boys looked a little surprised, since you had never really talked to each other. Maybe they didn't even know your name? But after both boys wished you a good morning and used your name in a formal greeting, the worry evaporated.

“Are you all right? These wounds look painful,” you finally stated, turning to Okuyasu, who seemed surprised over the fact that he was the one getting addressed and not Josuke. "I'm fine!" He replied in his usual booming voice, typically too loud for a normal conversation, but it fitted his character perfectly. Almost as if he read your thoughts - or noticed that he practically screamed in a girls face -, he grinned foolishly and scratched the back of his head in embarrassment. "But thanks for asking," he added a little more softly. It was almost too cute, conjuring a smile on your face. 

"Actually, I just wanted to ask if I could talk to you in private for a moment?" You didn't miss the way the two boys looked at each other during the pregnant pause after your question. "Of course!" Okuyasu then agreed and you shoot Josuke an apologetic smile, before taking off with Okuyasu. "I'll return him right away, Higashikata." Together you moved across the schoolyard to a somewhat quieter corner. 

When you turned to face him, Okuyasu was standing in front of you. The sudden proximity surprised you, still, you kept a calm exterior. He seemed nervous and you didn’t want to give him any more thoughts to worry about. "If you have any questions about Josuke, you'd better ask him," he started but you interrupted him. "Go out with me." His face was plain, drained from every emotion, totally unusual for his usual exuberant self. Internally you prepared for a brush-off, but then he blinked, once, twice and suddenly an wide array of emotions were plastered on his face. Pudency, confusion, enthusiasm. How could a person be so expressive? Adorable. 

"What?" He exclaimed, loud and shrill, and you had to suppress a chuckle as his entire face turned beet red. "You heard me. But if you don't want to, I won’t force you to,” you said playfully serious and turned to leave, but he grabbed your forearm and twirled you around in a fluid motion. The only way you could describe his expression was enthusiastic. “I’d love to! Yes!” It was contagious and soon you found yourself smiling giddily back at him.



You had expected Okuyasu to be inexperienced, but that you stole almost every first time of his? That came as a surprise. From the first date, through the first kiss, to the first time. Okuyasu never had have a girlfriend before and it showed. Despite his initial excitement, he was still hooked - inviting you on dates, buying you cute gifts and accompany you from home to school and back. At least if he didn't overslept, which happened more often than not. 

Even if you didn't had feelings for him from the start, he grew on you. The longer you knew him, the more obvious it got. Yes, Okuyasu was violent. If he had no logical solution to a problem - and he often did not because he couldn't think of one - he resolved it with his fists. Nevertheless, he bolstered his friends up, was humorous and honest. How could a girl - read here as ‘you’ - not fall for him? He was the loyal, but kinda stupid type and it was heartwarming to be the center of his affection. Before you knew it, you became a couple.



The door to the room was locked, so no unwanted interruptions were possible. Homework lay on the floor, it was started, but largely inchoate. A radio played some pop songs, the volume drowned out other noises. Okuyasu's lazed on your bed, you snuggled against his chest, between his cocked legs. His hands rested on your lower back underneath your top, slowly brushing up and down your spine. Lips sealed in a messy kiss. It had started innocently enough, but soon spiraled into a full blown make out session. 

Weeks ago, his kisses had been an absolute disaster, too wet, too much tongue, lips too wide open - like he was trying to devour you in one bite. Teaching him all the thinks you liked over time had helped. Like a dry sponge he soaked up each of your 'lessons', wanting to please you in every way possible. Now he moved his lips against yours at a comfortable pace, his fingertips deliberately caressed the parts of your body that made your skin bubble in excitement. He knew your body, your reactions, you.

As you released the kiss, he cupped your neck with his hand to pull you back against his lips, reclaiming your mouth greedily and continued to conquer it with his tongue. You exhaled contentedly and sank against his chest, returning his fondlings. After a few more minutes, savoring the feel, you turned your head to the side, gently releasing the kiss. "Oku," you said quietly, your hands caressing his strong chest, your fingers playing with the top button of his uniform. "Would you like to try something new today?"

He looked at you in confusion, hands slowly sliding from your back to your hips, holding you in his grip as his thumbs circled over soft skin. Big, lovestruck eyes looked up at you. "Something new?" A smile played around your lips and you sat up. "You know, Oku. Something new." With a strong emphasis on the last word, you placed your palm on his crotch and massaged his flaccid penis through his pants. His breath caught, his eyes widened, a grin appeared on his face. "Yes!" He exclaimed, but cleared his throat right after. "I mean, sounds good. Yes." 

His reaction put an honest smile on your lips. He was always so open with his feelings, but still tried to act cool around you. You loved that about him. "Would you take off your clothes for me?" You slowly spread kisses over his neck as you murmured the words against his skin. Okuyasu hurriedly undressed. Within a few moments, his school uniform piled on the floor and he sat up in bed again, dressed in just his underpants. His hands tampered with your top, but you gently gripped his wrists. Confused eyes looked down at you. 

Slowly you pushed him back on your bed, climbed onto his lap and run your palms over his stomach, fingers circuit around each pronounced muscle, steadily climbing upwards to his broad shoulders. He hold his breath, trying to appear thinner than he was. But why? He had an amazing body, it was strange to think that he was self-conscious. "You are so attractive, Oku. Please breath." And he did, almost seeming relieved. "Can I take your clothes off?" He finally asked and gently touched your hip again, not being able to keep his hands for himself for a minute at a time.

You shook your head in response. "Not right now. We wanted to try something new, remember?” In slow, lazy circles, you moved your hips on his. He was always so eager, wanted to please you and quickly caught on to your needs. He was just perfect in the submissive role, but, naturally, he had to agree first. You would never force him to do something he didn't want. "I want to tie you up, Oku." That heartwarming bright grin of his disappeared briefly and he rubbed his own neck, laughing nervously. 

"Tie me up?" He didn't look very convinced, but he wasn't averse either. You gave an approving hum. "I like to imagine you squirming under me as I ride you to orgasm. You not being able to do anything else than take what I give and moan my name," you admitted, not even blushing at the lewd confession. The same didn’t applied for Okuyasu. His face flashed up like a beacon in the night. "This is what I like about you. You always say what you think. So I don't have to think about what you could be thinking for so long.” That elicited a hearty, loud laugh from you. "So if you’d let me, I'd love to continue."

Okuyasu opened his lips as if to say something, but stopped and knitted his eyebrows together. "Is something wrong?" You asked in surprise at his reaction. He hummed and hawed, murmuring something under his breath, before finally deciding on an answer. “I just thought - you know. As the man, I had to be the active part? We never did something like this before.” Oh, so that's why he was nervous. "Oku, babe, if you don’t want me on top, you have to say so.” He quickly shook his head. “I want you to.” To calm him down a bit, you raked your fingers through is hair, massaging his scalp in a gentle way. “So, if you don't mind and I want it, it should be fine, right? We can stop at any time. Okay?"

This time he nodded without hesitation. You happily pressed a kiss on his lips and leaned over to the bedside table, where you kept your toys. Without loosening the kiss, you rummaged through the objects. Silicone, bottles, objects in different shapes and sizes - metal. Satisfied with the found, you pulled the object towards you, letting it dangle from your index finger. Handcuffs. As you released the kiss, Okuyasu's gaze wandered from your lips to the object in your hands. His Adam's apple slowly bobbed up and down as he swallowed dryly.

"Put your hands up," you instructed and he responded immediately. Okuyasu grabbed the headboard behind his back and you cuffed him to the frame. "Try to free yourself," you said, and he tugged on his bonds, blindly obeying. The bed creaked, but except for that, nothing happened. Pleased, you smiled at him and he grinned back, though his expressions seemed a bit on the nervous side.

"You have nothing to worry about, Oku. As soon as you say stop, I’ll stop.” Your fingers stroked his bare chest, following the happy trail beneath his belly button further down. "But you will like it." Lingering with a single finger over his underpants, you felt his cock twitch under your touch, slowly starting to grow in in a thill of anticipation. You leaned forward and brushed your lips over his chest before kissing down the exact same path your fingers had taken minutes before. 

In front of his cock, still hidden beneath a thin layer of clothes, you stopped. Eyes looking upwards, meeting his darkened gaze. You kissed his erection and he tugged on the handcuffs, a deep gasp escaped his lips, followed by a few rasped curses. "But I can't touch you like this," he lamented. A grin crept onto your lips. "That's the plan, yes." In affirmation you placed a few kisses on his inner thighs before pulling his underpants down and revealing his throbbing cock. It jumped out of the waistband and wiggled in front of your face. 

You bit your lower lip, admiring the view, before you licked the vein at the underside of his member. Okuyasu groaned and once more the bed creaked and the handcuffs jangled as he rebelled against his bonds. "More," he gasped, pushing his hip up against your face. That, you could give. You opened wide and took him in. It wasn't the first time you gave him a blowjob, but it would be the first time that he wouldn’t cum.

Moaning your name, Okuyasu trembled beneath you, repeatedly thrusting in your mouth, chasing his high and making you choke on his length a few times. You knitted your eyebrows together and pressed his hip on the mattress, only to raise your head and thus removed his cock from inside your wet mouth. He whimpered. "Babe. Don’t stop. C’mon, please?" The handcuffs jangled again. You wiped your lips with the back of your hand. "Stop thrusting, or I’ll stop, Oku." He just nodded quickly, blindly agreeing to almost everything, as long as you would just continue pleasuring him. 

You let him twist and turn for a while, rubbing his cock with the palm of your hand, touch almost non existing. Only after he moaned your name and a few desperate ‘please’s you let mercy prevail. No kidding around this time. With one expansive movement of your head, his cock disappear in your throat. Bobbing your head up and down, circling your tongue around his glans, gagging now and then - you loved to please him. Okuyasu moaned, but you weren't worried about the volume of his voice, the radio was still playing music. He didn't move his hips, holding still just like you ordered him to, but his arms kept twitching as if he wanted to grab your hair.

The more he squirmed beneath you, the louder his voice got. It was plain and obvious that he was getting closer to his orgasm. When his cock started to twitch, you released it from your mouth. Okuyasu groaned in despair, moving his hip up, trying to thrust back into the heaven between your lips. But there was nothing he could do, besides desperately begging for you to keep on going. “Why do you stop, babe? I didn't thrust, just like you asked. Please? I‘m so close.”

His chest rose and fell with every rapid breath he took. You crawled over him again to give him another kiss. Unlike a few other partners you had, Okuyasu didn't mind his own taste on your tongue. Quite the contrary, actually. He kissed you back ardently while you lay down on his chest, savoring the lull before the storm. Only after he started to rub his cock against your hip did you release the kiss. "Babe?" His pleading tone was exhilarating, but you weren't ready yet to give him what he was begging for.

"Not yet, Oku," you said, lips grazing his ear. You watched with satisfaction as goose bumps spread over his skin. The air in the room was stuffy, his breath heavy, your bodies burning with desire. You lay on his chest, but your hand trailed down, grabbed his leaking cock and rubbed it slowly. The stimulation made him moan but it just wasn't enough. He looked up, helplessly, begging with his eyes in silence, lips slightly agasp. He tried to bend his torso to catch your lips in a kiss, but couldn’t reach you. Your lips, so close but yet so far, just like his orgasm. Frustrated, he dropped back onto the mattress, but jolted his hips up, trying to get more friction from your hand. 

You immediately stopped your movements and pulled back, leaving him nothing to thrust into. Okuyasu whimpered. “Don't stop, babe. I'm so, so close.” His voice trembled with desire, his eyes searched yours. "I want to hear you beg." His eyes widened and he slowly turned his head to the side, trying to hide the blush on his cheeks, but you had already noticed. “Babe, please. I want to cum. I need to cum. May I cum? Please." The last words were drenched in desperation. Heat rose in your face. You liked seeing him squirm, but actually hearing him beg like that made you feel things, you never felt before. You were frozen in place and he wiggled beneath you, trying to gain your attention. “Babe, c’mon! Did you hear me? Please. Please !"

Waking from your delirium, you reacted promptly, taking his cock in hand, rubbing him with fast and skillful strokes. Drops of precum leaked from his tip, making your movements easier and in turn Okuyasu groaning louder. It didn't take long and under moaning and twitching he spilled over your fingers. Cum sticking to your skin, hot and heavy. Dreamily, you looked into his lust contorted face, never stopping the movements of your hands, accompanied his climax till the end. 

His body slumped back into bed, exhausted but blissful. You looked at your dirty hands, raising them to your face, slowly licking the cum of your fingers. Okuyasu was transfixed, relished the aftermath of his orgasm and the lewd view in front of him. His eyes were filled with love. He mumbled something you didn't quite understand. But, true to form, it was probably a declaration of love. 

“Me too, Oku. So much."

Chapter Text

The taxi ride was quiet, even if the streets outside were drowning in noise. Despite the lateness of the hour, more than a few people were out and about. Young adults, slightly drunk, on the way to the next bar; older people who were finally able to clock out of work after several hours of overtime; pitiful souls who had to work the night shifts that no one else wanted to do. You look away from the window and turned to the person next to you. Jotaro was wearing a plain suit because you asked him to. He didn't like to wear such clothes, since he already looked impressive and now he looked like an intimidating bouncer of a noble night club, ready to knock you out for good. He braced himself on the upholstery of the seat with one hand and held his chin with the other while looking out of the window. Slowly, you placed your hand on top of his. A low hum resonated from his chest, but he was still looking at the streets outside. Still, he turned his palm upside down and intertwined his fingers with yours. As always, you had to show initiative first if you wanted something specific from him.


"Go out with me." 

No love letter, no giggles on the quiet, no lovey-dovey eyes staring at his back. You stood in front of him, on the roof of the school building - cordoned off for students and therefore his illegal retreat when the world came crashing down on him again and everything was just too much. He was here often. Although he had noticed that you had followed him, he had assumed that the sign on the door to the roof - 'No admittance except on business' - would stop you. Still, you were here, looking up at him, dressed in your school uniform. 

Your words surprised him. Despite his many admirers, no one had dared to actually ask him out. He assumed it was his intimidating demeanor. An appearance he chose himself, it helped to keep annoying people off his back. Has helped. After all, you were standing in front of him, right there, unimpressed by his cantankerous expression. He wanted to refuse and chase you away like he did to the girls who handed him letters or just drooled over him. But he didn’t. Maybe it was your proud posture. Maybe the spark of confident gleaming in your eyes. Maybe just the fact that he has never been asked to a date before. 

"Okay."


Jotaro refused to publicly display his affection towards you. He already had to deal with a lot of people staring at him - he just was that kinda guy you noticed in a crowd of people -, but if you added whatever cutesy stuff normal couples exchanged to the mixture, he would become the center of attention. And he hated attention. Still, if you took his hand or gave him a quick peck on the cheek, he wouldn't complain. It even suited him, because, despite dating you for years, he sometimes just didn't know what you needed from him or this relationship. Interpersonal interactions were difficult. So, when you invited him to a restaurant for your twelfth anniversary as a couple, he immediately agreed. One thing less to worry about. That's why you were now seated in a taxi on the way to a restaurant on the outskirts of the city. As the car stopped, he started to move, but you didn't let go of his hand. He wouldn't want to kiss you outside, so you pulled his fingers towards your face and pressed a kiss on his knuckles before you leaned forward and caught his lips in a tender kiss.


"Kiss Me."

The meetings didn’t stop after the first date. Every time you asked him out again he agreed. You were direct without being pushy. A trait of yours that he valued about everything else. He didn't have to think whether he was insulting you, if you liked something, or if you were annoyed - you'd tell him. You had invited him to a planetarium and afterwards, he walked you home. It was already getting dark. The streets were empty and you had taken his hand, his fingers interwoven with yours. You only let go of him as you stood before your house, turning to face him. Your cheeks flushed due to the cool evening air, lips curled into a gentle smile. In his eyes, you were stunningly beautiful. But what were you thinking? What did you see in him?

Your words surprised him, but he hid the emotion well. He had already entertained the idea of kissing you but had never found the right opportunity. So he agreed, leaned forward, and closed his eyes. Your lips met his much earlier than expected, so you must have stood up on your tiptoes. Your hands gently led his to your hip, before you wrapped your arms around his neck and deepened the kiss. He would never admit it, but it was his first. He was nervous, thinking he would mess up, but relief flooded his body, as you started with slow movements so he could mirror them more easily. When you stood back on the heels of your feet to release the kiss, he opened his eyes. It felt good.

"Okay."


The restaurant was fully booked, but despite the lively bustle you could ignore the other guests' conversations, the tables were far enough apart. You had already ordered and to celebrate the occasion you clinked glasses filled with an expensive type of red wine. You engaged him in a leisurely conversation, peppered with loving remarks about the past years or cherished memories. Jotaro had never floated on cloud nine with you, he’d rather lived safe and secure on cloud four. He had seen his fair share of lovestruck couples falling, dropping from high up to the ground, leaving a good relationship in scrambles. But you two were nothing like that. He liked it this way. You didn’t ask for more, you told him what you needed, and he gave it to you if possible. Even if other people said your relationship lacks passion - he would contradict. The moment the two of you were alone, you were head over heels for the other.


"I want sex."

You had already broached the subject a few times but it had always been too early for Jotaro. Even if he didn't look like it, Jotaro wanted to lose his virginity to a person he loved. And he did like you, but never knew if it was more than that. But he had learned to love you and after several months of dating, he was finally ready for the next step. So he was not averse to the idea when you stated your desire. He was lying in his bed at home, you on his chest, lips swollen from long and tender kisses, slowly spiraling into deeper, more passionate ones. So he agreed.

He had seen videos. He knew what he had to do. Still, if he had the option, he would have talked to his best friend about this. About his feelings even. Unfortunately, this was no longer a possibility. So watching porn had to be enough. With one fluid movement, he turned, burying you under his broad body and caught your lips in a kiss. Sweaty hands massaged sensitive body parts; tongues flicked over skin, leaving wet traces behind; teeth pressed into flesh, forming deep marks. It was awkward, youthful recklessness paired with teenage hormones. Nevertheless, it was a cherished shared memory, filled with love, passion, and desire.

"Okay."


The food was good and Jotaro was glad that you weren't constantly looking for verbal confirmation. He loved you and you knew that. But he wasn't a person to say it over and over again. You had to read between the lines, interpret his actions rather than hope for words he may never say to you. And that's exactly what you did. You gave him the space he required to breathe. Still, just sometimes, he needed to hear a few loving words, needed a shoulder to lean on, a bastion of calm. And you could give him all that. After a waiter came and brought you the main course, you whispered to him, said how good he looked, that you loved him, that you were proud of him. He looked away, but since he wasn't wearing his usual attire, he couldn't hide his face in shadows of his cap. Instead, he just mumbled something under his breath.


"You know I love you, don't you?"

Even after all the first times you had spent together, this was something new. You had never talked about love. Above all, he had never seen you like this. Your eyes, dull, robbed of the usual spark. Was it uncertainty? Something bothered you, but you didn't tell him in the straightforward way he was used to. He didn't understand why but wouldn't ask either. You had told him everything so far, so why should it be different this time around? But your face was unreadable to him, even though he could see the contradicting emotions wrenching on your nerves. So what was it? Fear? Why should you be afraid, he was right here, next to you. And he loved you too.

But it was too early. Saying it out loud seemed so final. Instead, he pulled his hat over his face and muttered his usual catchphrase. Of course, he knew you loved him. His mother had told him time and time again how lovestruck you stared at him when he wasn’t looking. In the same breath, however, she mentions how Jotaro himself looked as deeply in love as his girlfriend. How cute they looked together. Something about young love, being pure and nonsense like that. She annoyed him but was right nevertheless. He loved you. So much. Still, you seemed depressed. He didn't understand why. So he replied with the first statement that occurred to him.

"I know."


But sometimes you also needed a tower of strength. No matter how independent you were, how much you knew he loved you - sometimes you were dying for verbal confirmation, otherwise, you would lose your mind. After composing himself, Jotaro looked up and met your eyes over the nicely set table. He told you that your outfit fitted you well, that he liked the restaurant you choose and that he loved you too. As the smile appeared on your face - shining, like the rising sun in the morning, dispelling all the shadows of the night - he knew why he had to say what he felt every once in a while. It meant a lot to you and therefor meant something to him. Because he loved you and even if words weren’t always needed - sometimes they were good. Sometimes they were necessary.


"Do you love me?"

You hadn't told him what exactly bothered you and he hadn't asked. Why did you suddenly have to change? You had been so easy to talk to and suddenly, without warning, you were just as annoying as the other girls. Need confirmation, got clingy and needy. Your first argument had destroyed everything. He had said things to your face that he regretted. Would always regret. As you broke up, he no longer felt anything. Once more, he had lost a person he loved. He wanted to erase you from his mind, after all, you ended the relationship. But he couldn’t.

As you stood behind him, on top of the school building, like the very first day you met, he felt relive wash over him. He missed you. Did you want to get back together? He would accept without hesitation, as long as you initiated. But you didn't, instead, you asked him a tough question. A question about his feelings. Your posture wasn’t proud, your eyes didn’t spark with confidence. You looked scared and it tugged on his heart. So he answered honestly because he loved you and you should know that.

"Yes." 

But it was not enough. You didn't say you were devastated, but he looked at you, saw it, felt it. For the first time, you didn't have to say anything for him to understand. The disappointment was written all over your face, tears threatened to spill over. He hated to see you cry. But he said he loved you, what more could you possibly want? You would leave, after all, never to return. Panic grabbed him in a tight embrace, leaving him paralyzed. Realization washed over him. No, he hadn't said it. Fighting his own body, he took a big step towards you and placed a hand on your cheek. A rough thumb brushed over reddened skin, wiping away dripping tears. It was now or never. So he said it and your smile overshadowed everything else. He only saw you.

"I love you."


As you reached out your hand, he reacted by placing his palm upside down, ready to intertwine your fingers with his. But he had misread your intention. With a smile, you shook your head and placed a small box in front of him. You asked him to open it and he did. A simple gold ring. Lifting his gaze, he met yours. Eyes filled with love and adoration. 

"Marry me."

He was glad that you were this direct. After all, it was one of your best traits.

"Okay."

But his answer felt strangely incomplete. So he kept talking. A smile. No shadows were left behind.

"I love you."

Chapter Text

There was a long-running friendship between you, a deep connection. Time had welded you into an inseparable unit. You knew each other for so long and you both strived for the same ambition - Revenge on the murderer of his sister, your best friend. After Sherry's death, you packed your belongings and followed Polnareff around the world, even if he was vehemently against it. Women were delicate flowers, he said, too meek and weak for the fight. 

A statement he never recanted, but also never mentioned again. He knew you were able to take care of yourself. Even if you were by far the weakest of the team, it didn't change the fact that you could help them. After all, more than one fight had been won due to your interference. You had proven your worth for the team with wit and zest for action. And you were proud of that. You were no damsel in distress, you were the heroine of your own story.

Unfortunately, you only met the Crusaders after you met DIO. To this day, a fearful dread seized your whole body if you thought back to the flesh bud controlling your body and mind. A feeling you could never forget and, more importantly, never wanted to experience again. You'd rather die than relive any of that. But the prospect of fighting DIO and not knowing his powers made death seem like a verisimilar possibility. 

That was the reason why you decided to tell him. After all, this could be your last chance to clear things up. So why was it so hard? Why was this stressful journey, the dangerous fight, the struggle to keep alive, the prospect of a painful death - why was all that easier to bear than the possibility to face him and be rejected? It was Joseph's voice, that wrenched you out of your thoughts.

He said your name several times before you noticed and looked up, meeting his caring eyes. Since you had met him, he had been nothing but kind to you, looked after you in a fatherly way and you were beyond grateful for that. "You haven't eaten anything yet," stated Joseph factually. You looked at the plate in front of you, your appetite non-existent. The other men of the group stopped their conversation and looked at you. 

They had been joking until now, but suddenly the well-deserved quiet evening turned serious yet again. You couldn’t help but feel like it was your fault. All of them were just as tense as you, but there were undoubtedly better at covering up their mixed emotions. You wished it would be as easy for you too. But not even the appetizing-looking dinner in front of you could raise your spirits. Not if it felt like your last meal.

“I don't think I can eat anything tonight. But please don't worry, Mister Joestar,” you answered as neutrally as possible. You didn't want to cause any unnecessary apprehension. "I will retire to my room today." Without waiting for an answer, you got up and left the restaurant of the hotel you all were staying at.



The second you left, all eyes were on Polnareff, who was shoveling a fully loaded fork into his mouth. "What?" He asked, chewing before swallowing his mouthful. Avdol crossed his arms over his chest. "You should follow her." Polnareff blinked in confusion. "Why?" Even Jotaro rolled his eyes at his answer but didn't feel like interfering in other people's love affairs. Instead, he just kept eating.

"As I am a happily married man, let me give you some advice, my friend!" Joseph began. As always, voice booming, bringing several people of surrounding tables to turn around and stare. "Not that again!" Polnareff interrupted Joseph before he could fall into his monologue. “I can't tell her. If she doesn't like me, I will destroy our friendship and lose her. If she likes me and we fight DIO she could-,” he stopped in the middle of the sentence, leaving the end unsaid.

Everyone understood his concern, he didn’t need to speak it out loud. Silent looks were exchanged, no one knew how to fill the tense silence. None of them wanted to see one of the others die, after all, they were friends. “I understand that, Polnareff. Still, I can only advise you to talk to her. It is obvious that she has feelings for you.” Avdol’s voice was calm. As always, his advice was kind and thoughtful. 

Polnareff wished for Kakyoin to return from his stay at the hospital, hearing the boys opinion had always helped. He couldn't rely on Jotaro in matters of love and Joseph would only start talking about marriage and partnership. Polnareff fancied himself a ladies man. He had some experience with sex and relationships, though, if it came down to it he didn’t know what to do. He felt different with you and didn’t want to destroy what you two had. Whatever that was.

He noticed that you treated him differently. The few times he talked to other women on the trip he had seen how you reacted, had seen how jealous you would get. You had no problem touching him, clinging to him as often as possible. You laughed at his jokes and talked openly with him about your feelings. If any other woman would act this way around him, he would understand the intentions. But you were not just any woman. You liking him sounded absolute surreal, and yet the others had told him time and time again. 

"Even if you don't want to confess to her," Avdol continued, "you should still go after her. She is nervous, like all of us. Keep her some company. I bet she will appreciate you staying with her.” It meant a lot to Polnareff that his friends were so committed to helping him - and his love life for that matter -, but he still felt uncomfortable talking about you to the others. Normally it was so easy for him to talk to women - it was frustrating that it was different with you. 

“Okay, I get it. I’ll go. Stop being so pushy.” Polnareff rose and lingered a few seconds in front of the table, making eye contact with each of the men. “Thank you. I mean it.” Without waiting for an answer Polnareff took off, making his way to your room. 



The hotel room was everything you could wish for. Beautifully decorated, clean bathroom, comfortable bed, perfectly air-conditioned. Still, you felt cramped and could hardly breathe. You fancied yourself an emancipated woman and yet at that moment, you would give anything if he would hugged you close and stroked your hair. You should go to his room. You had nothing to lose. Everything was better than torturing yourself with your level of anxiety. 

Three knocks on your door echoed through your room, making your heart leap. You straightened up in bed and fixed your hair. If you looked like you felt, you shouldn't confess anything to anyone. "The door is open," you said anyway, and Polnareff entered. His attentive gaze slid over your huddled posture, the crumpled sheets. Without hesitation he stepped forward and sat on the edge of the bed. 

"Chérie," he started and reached out a hand, you took it without a word and let him pull you to his strong chest, into a tight embrace. His proximity was all you needed, your body relaxed, your mind calmed down, it felt like you could finally breathe again. How could one man have such a huge impact on you? "You are not feeling well. Let me help you. What can I do?"

Hold me tight and don't let go. Kiss me and tell me that you love me. Promise me that we will survive and everything will be fine.  

"A glass of water would be nice," you said, trying to soothe the raging thoughts. He slowly released himself from your hug to get you the drink. He disappeared inside the bathroom and filled up a glass he found on the bedside table. You listened to the comforting sound of running water. As he returned, you thanked him, nipping on the water. You stretched on hand out, locking eyes with him. "If it's not too much to ask, could you stay here tonight?"

For a few seconds, his shoulders tensed and you dreaded his upcoming rejection. But he relaxed and as he shoots you a smile, so did you. “Lying next to a beauty, enjoying the warmth of a woman, and being greeted by your smile in the morning? How could I possibly decline, Chérie?” On every other occasion you would have reprimanded him, scolded him for talking like that, but today you stayed calm.

Your uncharacteristic reaction did not go unnoticed. Polnareff sat down next to you and played with your hair, letting a few locks glide between his fingertips. “I'm worried too, you know? I cannot promise that everything will be fine, but I can promise that I will protect you with everything I have. Silver Chariot and I will fight for you.” You felt like laughing and crying at the same time. "Since when can you read my mind, Jean?" You said, finally finding your smile again. Just for a second though, as your lips began to tremble, eyes filling with fear. Polnareff raised a hand, placed it on your cheek, and a rough thumb brushed over the corner of your eye, wiping away a single tear.

"I have known you for such a long time. I might as well be able to read your mind." You giggled, lips curling just so slightly upwards, and pressed your face into his warm palms, closing your eyes. “Thank you for coming here. Otherwise, I would have come knocking on your door in the middle of the night.” Polnareff laughed softly, an amused chuckle that made his chest vibrate. He never dropped his hand, continuing to caress your cheek. “An unmarried woman at my door around midnight? How indecent.”

Instead of reprimanding him, you took his hand in yours and slowly lowered them till you felt the soft fabric of the bedspread. Friends helped each other, sure, but this was more than friendship, wasn't it? His signals were so affectionate, so loving - was this really just a platonic relationship and you read to much into his actions? It didn’t matter either way. If he were to reject you, you had nothing left to lose fighting DIO. "Would it still be reprehensible if the woman were to love you?"

You played nervously with his fingers and he didn’t make a move to withdraw his hand. Actually, he didn’t show the slightest inclination to do anything but stare. His eyes were filled with disbelief, lips slightly open. As you started to retread your hand, his shock seemed to ease. He gripped your Hands with both of his and pulled them to his chest, pressing them over his heart.

“Chérie, don't play with my heart. Please don't say something like that if you don't mean any of it.” You could feel his heart beating under your fingers. Fast, strong, lively. Courage started to bubble up from deep within you. "Jean, I-" But he claimed your lips before you could finish your sentence. It was a gentle and chaste kiss. Loving and tender. Sweet and short. It was over sooner than you would have liked.

He leaned back and locked eyes with you. It took you a few seconds to realize what had just happened. He had kissed you. He had kissed you . "As every real man should, I need to say it first," he began, pressing your hands gently. You snorted, rolled your eyes over his remark, smiling anyway. "I love you, Jean." This time the words rolled over your tongue without hesitation.

Instead of giving you an honest answer, Polnareff acted theatrically, placing a palm on his chest in mock disbelief. “Did you just stole my opportunity to say it first? How could you!" On the one hand, you wanted him to reiterate the words, on the other hand, you were glad that he lightened up the situation. His buoyant mood brought a smile to your lips.

As if he could read your mind, he leaned forward and kissed your forehead. "You're beautiful." A kiss on your cheek. "Strong." A kiss on your nose. "Intelligent." A kiss on the corner of your mouth. "Brave." A long, gentle kiss on your lips. "I love you." All worries were lifted from your shoulders, each of his words released a different tension in your body until there was only warmth left.



He spent the night by your side, warmed your bed, and banished every dark thought out of your mind. You didn’t sleep much, too busy trying to enjoy the last night of your life to the fullest. Every touch, every kiss, every passion-filled gaze were to regain the lost time you wasted on unnecessarily pining after the other. 

Only in the early hours of the morning you fell asleep, exhausted, snuggled to the other, wrapped in comfortable blankets and body heat. This was a moment nobody could take away from you. No matter what should happen. 

Chapter Text

For some time now the tensions within your entire race had been the reason for some heavy disputes. Your people were scared. Scared of Kars, scared of his plans. But you shared his ideals, quite literally worshiped him as a godlike being. After all, he promised the power to walk under the sun. How would it feel? You could only imagine the warmth, the pleasant heat. Would it tickle? Or maybe it was more of a tingling sensation like the moment when warm water met cold skin. Without Kars, you would never know. 

So, as the quiet murmurs grew louder, as the overall feeling of unrest flared into full-blown dread, as your people started to scheme the death of one of their own - you knew what you had to do.



Kars had shown no mercy. Not a day ago this had been a place of hustle and bustle, now the silence was overwhelming, depressing almost. A sea of death. Blood, flesh, and bones. Only Kars himself, his closest confidant Esidisi, two innocent children, and you had survived his wrath. Spared because of your loyalty to him and your disloyalty to the dead. Your family, you thought briefly, but quickly rejected the thought. They didn't understand Kars, not like you did.

Kars himself seemed satisfied. He sent Esidisi away with the children and then turned to face you. You should feel fear, back away from him - he had just wiped out hundreds of lives within minutes. Genocide was nothing to him. But you met his gaze, enjoyed the attention that was given to you, relished how your heart beat faster as he stepped closer and raised a hand. You shivered as he touched your cheek and felt the warmth radiating from his palms.

"You have always been a special one," he said, absolutely calm as if he hadn’t just killed an entire race. His lips curled into a content grin, pointed teeth peeked out under his full lips and the hand on your cheek stroked down, strong fingers gripped your chin. He slowly turned your face in one direction, then the other. His piercing gaze was on you all the time.

"But I never noticed how pretty you are." Your breath caught. "I wonder", he started and his thumb stroked your lower lip, you willingly opened your mouth. The corners of his mouth curled into an arrogant smile. "What else would you do for me, woman?" Piercing red eyes were fixed on your face, noticed every little reaction - including your swallowing.

You assumed that he would continue to speak, but he remained calm. Did he expect an answer? Your body trembled as you raised your voice. “My loyalty knows no bounds. State your wish and I shall serve you." The thumb on your lower lip slowly stroked back and forth and you quickly encircled it with your lips, sucked on the digit, swirled your tongue around it, never breaking eye contact. Kars’ grin widened. "I see. Then maybe you deserve a reward for your loyalty. Would you like that?" He lowered his voice, a pleasant dark rumble, sending shivers down your spine. "Yes. Please,” you pleaded, barely a whisper. 

He was obviously pleased by your answers but still wasn't willing to give you what you needed. He acted oblivious like he didn’t know what you wished for, what your body craved. "But what could I possibly reward you with?" A rhetorical question, yet he seemed to be waiting for an answer. His hands never left your body, fingers drawing patterns in your skin, leaving hot traces behind. His touch awaked carnal desires inside you, dirty thoughts you didn’t dare to speak out loud.

"If only I knew how," he mused, but your lips remained shut. Only when one of his hands suddenly grabbed your neck you gasped. He forced you to look up. "Tell me what you want." He knew exactly what you longed for and yet he wanted you to say it, hear you plead. You hesitated, but with every passing second his hands pressed down more, fingernails breaking skin. You gave in. "I want you. I want your body. I want your cock. Please.”

The moment you begged, Kars lifted you off the ground. Strong arms encircled your body and he threw you over his shoulder without struggling. You would have yelped in surprise but the sudden movements had temporarily squeezed all the oxygen out of your lungs. Before you could say anything - not that you would contradict him, even if you could - he had set off, his goal completely unknown to you, though you had a brief idea. 

He carried you to one of the few tents that hadn’t burnt down during his rampage. The ground was covered with furs, and some furniture made of old brittle wood was scattered sparsely inside. Roughly, he threw you on the bed, which creaked loudly due to the sudden strain. You looked up at him in surprise, watching him sink into a chair on the other side of the tent. 

The chair looked ridiculously small under his tall figure, but that did nothing to detract from his authority. He still looked powerful, confident, and elegant. He crossed one leg over the other, cocked his head to one side, and eyed you down. "Undress," he finally said, filling the silence with words. Without hesitation, you raised to your knees and started to get rid of your clothes. 

You weren't embarrassed to undress, but his piercing gaze never left your body, not even for a second, and it made you nervous. When you finally knelt naked between warm and soft furs, his eyes slowly wandered over your body, lingered briefly on your breasts and hips before he looked back at your face. "Come here," he demanded, and you climbed out of bed.

He was also sparsely clothed. You greedily eyed his body, as he leaned back in his chair - showing off his toned muscles, strong arms laying on the armrest, powerful legs crossed. As he noticed your staring, he put his foot on the floor and revealed his crotch. His sex was only clad in a loincloth, but the fabric left nothing to the imagination. His excitement was already hard, clearly outlined under the cloth. He was big. You swallowed dryly.

"Kneel," he said, pointing to the floor between his legs. You followed his instruction without hesitation and took a seat. No other command was necessary, you knew what to do. Placing a few gentle kisses on his knee, you moved your lips upwards, gracing his inner thighs, near his crotch. His body radiated an incredible warmth which captivated you completely. You were about to press your lips against his clothed cock when he grabbed your hair and painfully pulled your head back.

The muscles in your neck tightened uncomfortably, but you met his gaze without complaining. You would do anything for him, if only he would let you kiss him more, you wanted to feel his heat on your skin again. It was addicting. The grip in your hair didn't ease, but his other hand touched your cheek again. An almost gentle touch, you caught yourself leaning into it. 

“Take your time. And watch your teeth,” he said calmly before he let go of your hair and leaned back again. The wonderful warmth of his hand disappeared with him and you quickly got to work on his loincloth. Shortly thereafter, the fabric fell to the floor and Kars’ excitement sprung free, twitching close to your face before resting against his stomach. You inconspicuously wiped your sweaty hands on a fur before you put them on his thighs. You scrambled forwards and his strong legs surrounded you. You felt so small in comparison to him. 

With your lips close to his cock you looked up and met his gaze. He looked at you, irises veiled behind full eyelashes. Magnificent strands of purple hair, long and wavy, framed his striking face. His full lips arched a perfect bow and were drawn into a lazy, yet smug smile. He combined typical male and female features in one body. You couldn't avert your eyes, not if a demigod was sitting in front of you. He was perfect.

Slowly - obeying his request -, you pressed your lips against his cock. You nibbled on the hot skin, carefully spread kisses up and down his length. Every touch was rewarded with a twitch of excitement. Your hands stroked over his thighs as you took his tip between your lips and slowly run your tongue around his glans. You felt the muscles in his legs shift under your fingers, saw out of the corner of your eye how his chest rose and fell with every short breath. 

"Good," he groaned, stretching the vowels on his tongue. His fingers ran through your hair, as he laid his hand on your scalp, but he didn't push you down. He let you play your game, as long as you obeyed his every command. "Now open your mouth." And you did. He gripped his shaft, pumped it a few times before rubbing it over your stuck out tongue. "You know what to do." 

You greedily took his cock in your mouth, worked your way down until his tip finally reached your throat. But you kept going, only stopping when your nose pressed against his hip and the patch of hair there tickled your face. You kept your eyes closed, focused on breathing enough through your nose. Saliva collected in your mouth and when you swallowed, your throat contracted at his cock. He groaned. You choked slightly.

Slowly you started to bob your head, every time he bottomed out in your throat, you pressed your lips together and hollowed your cheeks while moving up again. Your tongue danced around the hot flesh, licked salty drops from his tip. Your movements were accompanied by a symphony of his soft moans. Every sounds moved through your body right to your throbbing core.

"Good. Now start moving faster,” he demanded, though his voice trembled slightly towards the end. Driven by his praise, your urge to please took over. Your movements became faster. You felt how your core throbbed with want. With every moan falling from his lips, you got wetter. You were ready to devote your whole being to just this man, please him, fulfill his every wish.

As his moans grew louder, a hand lay on the back of your head and pushed you down. He pressed your face into his crotch and held you there. Your throat burned, being stretched in a way that was almost unbearable. You were unable to defend yourself, tears welled in your eyes, but you fought bravely with your gag reflex. Saliva pooled around his cock, dripping down in sticky threads. Only when you felt the onset of a coughing fit, you patted his tight, pleading silent for mercy. He was just too big. 

He released you from his grip and you jerked your head back, filling your aching lungs with the desperately needed oxygen. "I want more," you pleaded, voice rough, your throat still aching from the deep penetration moments before. You looked up, licked your dry lips, and pressed your thighs together, trying to find at least some kind stimulation.

Kars breathed heavily and although his cock was still fully erect, resting against his stomach, he didn’t answer immediately. Red eyes followed the movement of your tongue before wandering down and examined your thighs, noticing the desperate way you rubbed them together. A knowing grin darted across his lips. "Come on, then." He held out his hand to you and as you took it he pulled you to your feet, hugged your waist with strong arms, and pulled you on his lap.

His cock pressed against your wet slit and a groan escaped your lips. The heat between your bodies was almost unbearable, but you pressed yourself closer - you wanted to feel more. His hands grabbed your butt and played with your flesh. "Go on, then. You wanted more, then give me more.” Kars rolled his hips forward and his cock rubbed against your entrance. 

Without further ado, you raised your hips and positioned his hot member against your entrance. You wanted to let yourself sink down slowly, but Kars seemed to have other plans. With one hard jerk he pulled your hips down and sank into you as far as it would go. You moaned together. The sudden intrusion was uncomfortable - stretching you almost painfully -, but the arch soon ebbed away, making you feel just perfectly full. 

You braced yourself on his shoulders and began to move your hips. Deep and slow thrusts, savoring the feeling of his cock pushing deep inside. You felt unbearably hot, blood boiling. His hands were still on your hips, helping you move, lifting your body, then dropping you back down again. The smacking of skin against skin filled the entire room, accompanied by moans and Kars whispering lewd praises in your ear. 

"You're so wet for me," he groaned, lips running down your neck, your collarbone. Every few kisses, he bit deep into your skin, leaving dark marks before licking almost apologetic over them. Your head slumped against his shoulder, the muscles in your legs ached from ongoing endeavor. But the feeling was too good, too fulfilling to stop.

Kars moved his hips against you from below, sinking deep into you, again and again and again. Stars danced before your eyes. You were so, so close. Just a bit more. If only he would touch you! You reached impatiently between your bodies and rubbed your clitoris, chasing your own high relentlessly. A deep, throaty laugh vibrated in Kars’ chest. “So greedy. Come for me. I want to feel you twitch around me.” 

His lips pressed against your ear as he spoke - the dark rumble of his voice was all you needed. One last time you let yourself fall on his cock, feeling it deep within you. Your fingers circled over your clitoris as the orgasm flooded over you. Your vision went white, your body started to tremble. It was just too much, your veins filled with lava. He kept thrusting, making it hard for you to breathe. 

Your body slumped against his chest, but he kept going. "You are so tight, so wet," he growled and rammed hard into you. The overstimulation set set your body on fire. You felt his cock twitch, nearing his own orgasm. It was too much. You wanted to move, but none of your muscles wanted to obey. Just too much. You could only lean against him and let him do as he pleased. Submit.

His thrusts got sloppier with each passing second before he suddenly bottomed out, fingers piercing the skin on your hips. Hot cum flooded your core and he moaned against your neck, biting down hard. It hurt, but, oh, did it hurt good . Exhausted, you listen to his irregular breath. Slowly he pulled himself out of your throbbing pussy and sperm ran down your inner thighs. 

For a few short, blissful seconds the both of you just enjoyed the proximity of the other, before two strong arms wrapped around your body. He lifted you up and carried you to bed, sinking into the furs next to you. No words were spoken, he just held you against his chest, covering you in pleasant warmth. Never would you have expected him to stay after sex, yet you welcomed the almost domestic moment, happily pressed closer to him.

You didn't dare to ask him why he stayed, too worried that he would banish you from his bed the moment after. You wanted this - his proximity, his embrace, his warmth. If the sun felt anything like this, you needed it like you needed air to breathe. You would do anything. And Kars was the only person who could satisfy that desire.

Chapter Text

Since you started to carry on this craft, you knew his future. Without seeing him even once, you knew more about your soulmate than anyone else. You saw his past, his upcoming journey, and his unchangeable end. His destiny laid heavy on his shoulders, burdening him with a tragic future, filled with painful suffering and death. Still, he would find friends along the way for whom he would willingly sacrifice everything. For whom he would willingly die.

The cards had revealed you a bizarre story, told about eerie foes, and whispered about a fire in the heart of your soulmate. You barely understood anything, unknowingly to whether the cards told the story in metaphors or you had to take the prophecy literally. When you were young you wept a lot for him and your future together. You were doomed to meet once, love each other passionately before never meeting again.

It was a deeply-rooted pain, but over the years you had learned to live with it - only feeling a dull ache whenever you thought about him. At some point he would appear in your life and you would use the short time fate granted you to its fullest. No matter if he knew that you were the one for him or not - you would enjoy the hours with him and keep the memories close to your heart for the rest of your life.

He was a righteous, responsible, loyal man. He was a passionate man. Your soulmate.



The wind chime at the entrance of your shop chimed, announcing the presence of a new customer. The sudden opening of the door whirled up the air in the room, the draught mixed different smells of incense and let the flames of candles dance. "I'll be right there," you called from the back room where you had just made tea. 

The day had been quiet so far, you had only served one customer. A thought of the soon due rent was haunting through the back of my mind and you could hardly pay for the food on your plate. You shook your head, trying not to dwell on that. The old floorboards creaked under your customer's heavy footsteps as he explored the store. You placed two cups and the tea kettle on a tray, balancing all things into the entrance area.

A tall man stood with his back to you, looking at the display of books and herbs on one of the shelves. An orange coat covered his broad shoulders and tall figure for the most part. You put the tray on a table in the middle of the room, the place where you lay cards for your customers or helped in word and deed. 

The windows were darkened with curtains, so you couldn't take a closer look at him, but the candles enveloped him in a soft light that highlighted his dark skin. "May I help you?" You asked calmly and the man turned. When your eyes met, you knew it. You knew him. It was beyond doubt the man the cards had told you about. 

Your eyes wandered over his body and you soaked up all the details that you could spot despite the poorly lit room. The scars on his face, the warm and friendly expression, eyes that looked so much older than he probably was. He was exactly the way you always pictured him to be and yet completely different. Your heart was beating fast, you could hear the blood pressure in your ears. It was him - your soulmate.



Your soulmate's name turned out to be Muhammad Avdol. He was only browsing for books for his studies, unaware of fate's plan. A conversation between you as a shopkeeper and him as a customer developed into a conversation about interests and shortly afterwards you found yourself emerged in a brisk dialog about fate and destiny. You have always been direct but knowing that this would be your only meeting - you abandoned all shame and dared to plunge in at the deep end. Without telling him what you were, you asked for more.

You hardly had time to turn the sign in the window to 'closed', before he pulled you to his chest and claimed your lips in a passionate kiss. As you pressed yourself against him, your hands started to explore his body, feeling the well-formed muscles of his chest and arms hidden beneath the coat. You wanted to feel more, but let your hands rest around his neck, pulling him closer to your lips.

Every touch felt right. His lips melted into yours, like a two-part puzzle that had been missing the second piece for far too long. As his hands slowly ran down your sides to your waist, your skin burned, demanding even more. You had to suppress a disappointed sigh as he leaned back, breaking the kiss. "May I?" He asked, his hands hovering over your hip. You wanted so much more, did he really need to ask to notice it? 

Still, the fact that he asked to see if you were comfortable - your heart leaped in joy. "Yes," you breathed against his lips - still wet from exchanging kisses -, and pulled him back down to seal his mouth once more with yours. Together, not once breaking the kiss, you tumbled backwards, dropping between soft pillows and blankets, cuddling on a sofa in a corner of the shop. He sat down first, you followed and climbed on his hips.

You leaned back, pulling on his coat, which slowly slipped off his shoulders. Shamelessly, your let your hands glide under his top, palming his flat stomach. A humm sounded in his chest, you could feel the vibration under your fingers. It was a comfortable sound, encouraging you to keep going. His hands lingered in the small of your back, stroking the fabric of your top before slowly disappearing underneath.

Warm fingertips drew circles on your skin, burning the sensation into your memory. You gasped in the kiss and parted lips with him so you could pull the top over his head. He was breathtaking. The way the warm light of the candles illuminated his strong physic, made you forget how to breathe. Strong muscles, chiseled facial features, a fiery look in his eyes. The Necklace around his neck flowed over his collarbone like liquid gold, forming a strong contrast to his wonderfully dark skin.

Your eyes wandered over his flat stomach, followed the dark hair under his navel to the waistband below. But before you could tamper with his pants, he grabbed your waist again and pulled you back onto his lap. More kisses followed, and every time you tried to sit back - you longed to finally undress him - he gently gripped the back of his neck to guide you back, meeting your lips in a heated kiss.

Maybe he didn't find you sexually attractive? But you quickly rejected the thought, as his hot cock began to press against your backside. He liked it as much as you did, yet he didn't stop his demanding kisses, for you could finally undress him. After several minutes, you turned your head to the side, breathing heavily. His hand found its way to your cheek and caressed the reddened skin. Before he could pull you back in, you whined his name.

"Muhammad, please," you pleaded, unaware of what exactly you were begging for. As pleasant as his touches were, you wanted more. Needed more. When his name rolled so imploringly from your tongue, Avdol gasped softly. "What do you want?" He asked, voice deep, a velvet baritone. “Let me touch you, touch me. No matter what. Everything, just more,” you replied, emphasizing the last word and pressing your hips against his cock, eliciting a groan from both of you.

"Anything you want," he promised, his hands running over your top. "May I undress you?" He finally asked, his eyes filled with anxiety. Was he afraid that you would reject him? After everything you just said? Instead of offering him an answer, you got up and undressed yourself. You didn't move in a alluring way, nor played with the fabric before pulling it of your body. It was just too hot, you needed the cloth off. You wanted more. Still, Avdol was longing, you could see it in his eyes.

Only when you were standing naked in front of him did he reach out, offering you his hand. The gesture was almost reverent. With a smile, you took his hand and let him pull you back onto his lap. Your hands rested against his bare chest and he gently stroked your thighs up and down. Slowly he spread your legs and placed his warm palm on your naked sex. The touch was so unexpected that you moaned and arched your back.

Avdol looked up at you, drinking in your reactions, as he slowly rubbed his hand over your mound. You leaned your forehead against his shoulder, tried to regulate your breathing, but it was in vain. His touches were gentle but it was exactly what your body longed for. As a finger slipped between your labia, you moaned. "So wet for me," he whispered in your ear and pushed deeper, carefully stretching you.

Suddenly, he found that spot inside you. Rubbing over it ever so slightly, you threw your head back and opened your lips in a silent cry. Lightning flashed through your body. If you hadn't been completely immersed in your own ecstasy, you may have seen the adoring look in Avdol’s eyes. He parted his lips just the way you did, mirroring your expression with just as much passion, the corners of his mouth twisted into a soft smile. "You're getting so tight, let me see you coming, dear." With these words, he moved his fingers faster and elicited more sounds of pleasure from you.

He pressed two more fingers into you and began to thrust them rhythmically. You were wet, making his movements much more easy. The way his fingertips rubbed over that one spot inside you was driving you mad. You rolled your hips against his fingers and your vision blurred slowly, as white spots danced before your eyes. You were so close, it wouldn't take much more. When his thumb suddenly pressed against your clitoris and drew small circles around it, everything turned white.

Fire shot through your veins, your body twitched all over as you reached your first high of the evening. Groaning, you slumped against his chest, muscles still twitching as he continued to move his finger. Every stroke sent pleasant shivers down your spine, still, you sighed in relief when he stopped. With heavy-lidded eyes you looked up, almost choking on your saliva. He eyed his fingers - still wet from fingering you -, before sucking them in his mouth, licking them clean.

It was such a lewd scene. If you hadn’t seen it first hand, you would have not believed he could act this way. But you could feel his cock throb against your butt as he did. A dark grumble vibrated inside his chest. "You taste divine." Without waiting for an answer, he lifted you up and stood. You quickly wrapped your legs around his waist so you didn't slip down. "Where is the bedroom? A woman like you needs to be loved in bed.”

If you weren't still so flustered from your orgasm, you might have laughed at this cheesy statement. But you were, so you just smiled and explained the way. Your apartment was one floor above your shop, he just had to go up the stairs. Most men would have had a problem maneuvering you up the stairs on their shoulders, he did not. He carried you into the bedroom and put you down gently.

Lying between soft pillows and blankets, you watched him take off his pants. Your gaze wandered greedily over his figure, watching his pants and underwear fall to the floor. His cock sprang free, twitching under the cool air of the room. You bit your lower lip in excitement as he climbed into bed and over your body. You instinctively stretched out your arms, wanting to touch him.

You caressed his arms, slowly upwards to his shoulders. As you reached the neck, you pulled him down and claimed his lips once more. He carefully pushed your thighs apart and lay between your legs. Hands caressed your skin, pulling your hips closer against his hard cock and eliciting another gasp from your lips. You gently nibbled on his lower lip, rolling your hips against his. He inhaled sharply, and you just smiled contentedly.

Eyes - warm and loving -, focused on you and the smile on his lips turned your limbs into pudding. How could one look contain so many emotions? "I need you," he said, voice strained, a few octaves lower than before. "May I?" He punctured his question by pressing his cock against your naked sex, making you moan. "Yes. Yes, please!"

No sooner had you pleaded for him to go on than he pushed inside. Careful, as not to hurt you. Every inch pushing inside lit your lower body on fire, he widened you so perfectly. Only when he was completely immersed in your wet heat did you moan out loud. "I’ll start moving. Stop me, if I hurt you." You nodded eagerly, your fingers trailed over his broad shoulders, over his back, down to his butt. You grabbed tightly and surprised by your forwardness he thrust forward.

"Yes!" You moaned and pressed yourself against him. That was all the approval he needed. Hard, deep strokes followed, pushing you deeper into the mattress. You wrapped your legs around his waist as he started spreading kisses on your chest, pulling him closer, wanting more. Every thrust rubbed all the right spots inside. His moan was heavenly, confirming that he liked it as much as you did.

Your fingers clawed into his ass, needing to scratch something, as you neared your sweet exhilaration. It didn't take much anymore. “I want to come with you. Please come in me,” you whimpered in his ear and his breath stopped, but the movements of his hip did not. Instead, he thrusted even faster, harder. You sucked on his neck, leaving dark marks, moaning against his salty skin.

He reached between your bodies and started rubbing your clitoris. That was the last push you needed. His name was everything you screamed as you reached your second orgasm. Your walls fluttered around him, pulling his cock deeper inside, pushing him over the edge as well. He moaned in the crook of your neck as his release filled you, hot and sticky. His arms gave in under his weight and he fell on your body.

You only gasp for a while, trying to fill your lungs with air, before he rolls off you and pulls you into his arms. You pressed your head against his chest, ear over his heart, listening to the irregular beat, slowly calming down. Nobody said anything, but the silence was not uncomfortable. On the contrary, it felt rather comfortable, like you had known each other for years. You didn't have to fill the silence with words, there was nothing to say. Did he know who you were? You wanted to look up, search for an answer within his eyes, but you didn't.

If you had, you would have met his eyes. Eyes full of adoration and love, but at the same time dreading the future to come. You fell asleep on his chest. The next morning you woke up alone, the mattress next to you was still warm.



The wind chime at the entrance of your shop chimed, announcing the presence of a new customer. You sat at the table in the middle of the room, looking at the tarot cards before you. You asked them about him, but they didn't answer. They could show the future, but decided to remain silent. You knew what it ment - had prepared for this moment for years -, the realisation still filled your heart with sorrow.

When you looked up, you met eyes with a stranger. A young man with gelled, silver hair. He said your name, obviously knowing who you are. There was sadness in his eyes as he placed a package on the table. You opened it, wordlessly. It contained a golden necklace. Though you had only seen it once, you knew it well. It was the last thing left of him. You only laughed without shedding a tear. He had thought of you in his last waking moments - he had known who you were after all. 

Chapter Text

Love is a tricky game. Everyone has a limited number of cards in hand and depending on how much you are willing to show your fellow players, the process develops differently. Do you trust your teammate? Lay your cards down, show your hand and maybe your price is a partner for life.

"We have been seeing each other for a while," Bruno began, putting his wine glass down. The ambient was pure romantic. A pianist played slow songs, the light was dimmed, candles flickered here and there. It was the perfect date. He stretched his arm across the table and gently gripped your hand with his. His thumb caressed the back of your hand as he sought your look. As your eyes met, you noticed his nervousness. You gave him an encouraging smile, confirming him in his plans. He squeezed your hand gently. 

“And I enjoyed every moment by your side." He pronounced your name with such affection that you were at a loss for words. "I love you." A smile spread across your lips and this time you squeezed his hand. The tension dropped from his shoulders when you said, "Bruno, I love you too." A soft, relieved laugh escaped his throat. “Oh, amore mio. I am so relieved. I thought it was too early to say.” You shook your head and he raised your hand to his lips, grazing your knuckles with a chaste kiss. 

Shortly thereafter, you were sitting in a taxi on the way back to his apartment. The driver had slightly turned up the music so he didn't have to listen to your conversation. Your fingers danced over Bruno's thigh while your head laid on his shoulder. Bruno's cheeks were slightly flushed, ashamed of the sweet nothings you whispered next to his ear. Promises for what was to come. It was amusing to make him blush and so easy as well.

"I can't wait to get home," you said, nibbling on his earlobe and enjoying the sound of his breath hitching in his throat. His big hand grabbed yours before you could run it even higher up his thigh. "Amore mio, please." His voice trembled and he turned his face slightly to the side, trying in vain to hide the red hue dusting his cheeks. "We are not alone."

Your gaze wandered to the side and caught the eyes of the taxi driver through the rearview mirror. He quickly looked away, staring at the street, as he should. You smiled. “You pretend I'm doing something indecent. I only tell my boyfriend how much I love him and how I would enjoy showing him just how much.” Bruno turned his gaze to you and his tense facial features softened. "I love you too," he replied, voice barely audible to you, right next to him. His lips pressed against your forehead.

He really was a gentleman. Still, he held on to your hand - gently, his fingers interwoven with yours - stopping you from putting your innuendo into action. When he leaned back and looked you in the eye, you could feel his affection. This warm, tingling buzz of real love. It put a smile on your lips. "I also want to show you how much I love you, just not here."

You nodded, but couldn't stop yourself from stealing another kiss, perhaps a bit more heated than Bruno liked in the presence of another person. You nibbled on his lower lip, dragging it back between your teeth, before you let go of him and leaned back in your own seat. Bruno crossed his legs and looked out of the window, but never let go of your hand.

A few minutes later you stumbled together through the front door of his apartment, wrapped up in a heated kiss. It was a miracle that he had managed to unlock the door, after all, you kept pulling him to your lips. His jacket had slipped down on one side of his shoulders, fabric rumpled due to your constant pulling. Maybe you accidentally tore a button right of in the process, but you could take care of that later.

No sooner had he closed the door than you pushed him against the nearest wall and finally, finally, could pulled the jacket off his shoulders. Your hands greedily wandered over his chest, rubbing tight muscles, playing with the elegant dark lace still adorning his body. Bruno gasped and wrapped his arms around you, preventing you from completely undressing him in the hallway. "Let's move this to the bedroom." His hands gently caressed your back and with the other hand he played with your hair.

You gave in, but not without kissing his collarbone before you left the hallway. He took your hand and led you into the bedroom, before claiming your mouth in another kiss. Sweet and deep. Far too soft for your taste, but that's how he was. Loving. Romantic. You opened his belt and shoved him on the bed after parting lips. He gasped in surprise, but the look of shock on his face soon faded into a gentle smile.

"Take off your pants," you ordered him and began to undress yourself in front of the bed. Bruno wiggled out of his pants, boxers following soon after, and was about to take off the lace-top when you shook your head. "Leave it on." He looked a little confused, but you slowly climbed into bed with him, over his body, kissing your way upwards. Slowly, before reaching his face. "It suits you so well. I really like the way you look in that - kind of kinky," you whispered into his ear and your fingers stroked the black lace, brushing his nipples.

The touch elicited a low gasp and you sat contentedly on his hip. His cock was starting to get hard and twitched against your butt. Slowly you started to circle your hips, feeling his cock growing under you. "You are so beautiful," said Bruno, raising his hands, grabbing your hips to help you move. He tried to straighten up and pull you into a loving embrace, but with one hand on his chest you hold him down. "We discussed this, didn’t we? I want to show you how much I love you."

It was not unusual for you to take the reins in bed. You liked the power over him, the way he submitted to you if you so desired. Still, he was always ready to please any way you wanted. So if needed be, he was ready to plow you into the mattress and make you scream with powerful thrusts. "What if I want to show you my love for you, amore mio?" He asked, but his voice was calm - had already resigned to the fact that you would get everything you wanted. Not that he minded. You being in control just meant he could see you bounce on top of him. And the way you moved was always a pleasurable sight. 

“You could just tell me”, you replied and conjured a condom from the bedside table. For a moment you sat down on his thighs and rubbed his cock with both hands. In no time he was hard, precum leaking out his tip. He moaned softly, never letting you out of his piercing gaze. Beautiful blue seas of cold ice. “I love you.” He repeated it a few more times, like a mantra, composed just for you. You rolled the condom over his erection, but his whispers of love did not stop until you sat up and pushed him against your entrance. 

Slowly, savoring the moment, you lowered your hips, feeling the familiar pleasant stretch of his cock. He moaned and grabbed your thighs, moving his hands up and down your smooth skin. “You’re so tight” The palming of your legs stopped, reaching up and cupping your breasts. “So beautiful.” No sooner had he uttered the words than you began to move. You both moaned in unison. 

He massaged your breasts as you started to bounce on him, letting yourself fall on him over and over again. He widened you so well, a feeling you just couldn't get enough of, no matter how often he filled you. You leaned forward and allured him into another kiss, conquered his mouth with your tongue. Chaste, just too soft for the way you bounced on him and he thrusted upwards, meeting your movements halfway. You groaned against his lips, wanting more, needing more. He wrapped his arms around your body, pulling you closer to his chest.

"I love you," he gasped against your lips before kissing over your neck. He punctured each word with another forceful thrust. "I love you so, so much." Bruno tried to turn with you, but you stopped him. Instead, you straightened up, planting your hands on his chest and started to rut against him. It was just not enough, you needed more than his passionate love making. You longed for a good fuck, watching him come undone beneath you.

Eyes filled with want, lips slightly parted, cheeks dusted red. It was a picture for the gods. Over and over he repeated his confession of love, telling you how beautiful you are, how good you felt, how much he needed you in his life, by his side, forever. Every word from his lips pushed you closer to orgasm. It wasn't until he reached into the duvet, raking his fingers helplessly across the fabric and moaned, "I’m close, please, amore mio, come with me,” that you began to rub your clitoris.

You felt your orgasm approaching, building up with each deep thrust, before washing over you like a tsunami, burringy you under the waves, drowning you in suffocating pleasure. Moaning, you kept moving, wanting to take him with you. Bucciarati groaned, feeling you tightening around him pushed him over the edge and he stumbled over it just seconds after you. With your name on his lips he filled the condom, the heat sent shivers down your spine. Exhausted, you slumped forward on his chest, buried your head in the crook of his neck, nibbling on flushed skin. 

It took awhile for your breathing to calm down again. When you looked up and met his gaze, he looked saddened, you couldn’t understand why. "What is wrong, bello?" As he released himself from your hug and sat up, you got a bit nervous. He never acted this way. "I have to tell you something." His voice faltered, but he took a deep breath, before continuing. "My feelings for you are real, but I was not honest with you." You stayed silent, which he took as an invitation to continue. "I work for Passione."

His shoulders were tense as he waited for a reaction. You just pulled him back down next to you and snuggled against his side, head laying on his chest, drawing little circles with your fingers on bare skin. “I want you to tell me everything from now on. No secrets.” Your reaction was probably not what he expected, Bruno exhaled in relief. “I promise, amore mio. Everything you want to know.”



Some people play several games at once until they choose a partner for a longer match. Others will always play with different persons until the bitter end, never settling for just one. Rarely are those who prefer not to play games at all. The rules are inaccurate and you have always found loopholes for your own benefit.

The soft, velvet ribbon around your eyes was a harsh contrast to the cold, hard steel handcuffs around your wrists. Your belly was pressed onto rough wood, your hip pressed uncomfortably against the edge of the table. Arms and legs were handcuffed at the table legs, body completely bare, skin exposed to the cold air inside the room. But you felt no cold. Everything was hot, your body was on fire.

“Capo, please.” Your plea remained unanswered and you tore on your cuffs in desperation. The desk creaked under your efforts, but your body remained chained to the tabletop. The dildo in your wet pussy started to vibrate on a lower setting, giving you a short break to breathe. Still, a small whimper escaped your sore throat. How long have you been lying here, remote controlled vibrator deep in your core, stimulating you mercilessly, without any possibility to touch your pulsating clitoris?

You just needed a little more. Something. Anything. “Formaggio was on a mission today. He made so many mistakes I need to fix for him.” The dark voice sounded close to your face. The last time Risotto had spoken, he had stood behind you and kneaded your thighs, while pushing the vibrator inside you. “The task is done, yes, but he did it sloppy and left trails.”

A dark sigh, this time a little further to the left. Sometimes you forgot the fact that he was still a hit man and was more than capable of moving like a predator on the prowl - dangerously silent. “Ghiaccio had another tantrum and Melone was, well, himself, I guess.” The stress in Risotto’s voice was clearly audible and the whole reason why you were now chained to his desk and defenselessly at his mercy. Not that it brothered you in any way. You liked being his plaything, helping him cope with his stress. If only he would touch you!

“Capo, please,” You pleaded one more time and moaned shamelessly as the dildo came back to life, vibrating deep inside your core. The vibrations pierced marrow and bone. You tore at the handcuffs. "I'll be on a different mission next week." Your pulse throbbed, ears felt like they were filled with cotton, making it difficult for you to concentrate on his words. "That's why I'm going to enjoy every last second with you."

Fingers gripped your chin and raised your face. You opened your mouth without being asked and felt a thumb press against your tongue, pushing against the wet muscle. You put your lips around the finger and sucked. "You're getting greedy again." A statement you couldn't possibly disagree with. You wanted this. Needed this. More, more, more. Everything he was willing to give, you would take. An unhappy sigh escaped your lips as he removed his finger from your lips.

Risotto chuckled amused, a deep and throaty sound, going straight to your core. "You'll get something better in a minute." The sound of a zip made the hair on your neck stand up. You opened your mouth a little wider, but nothing happened. "You won't bite, will you?" It was a rhetorical question, he already knew the answer. He just wanted to tease you, not quite ready to give you want you want. Torturing you just a moment longer. You knew that. He knew that you knew. If you could look angrily at him, you would. Instead, you just shook your head. 

Fingers graced over your back, finding their way between your shoulder blades before sliding up over your neck. Goose bumps spread over the skin he touched and you sighed contently. But the gentle touches were short-lived. No sooner had he reached your neck than he gripped your hair and pulled your head back, rough, pressing your neck into an unpleasant angle.

You felt the slick tip of his cock rub against your lips. The pleasant cold of his piercings mixed with heated skin. You greedily stuck out your tongue and licked over the vein on its underside, slowly, feeling the frenum piercing on the flat of your tongue, followed by the delicious Jacob’s Ladder piercing. As you reached the tip, you kissed the Prince Albert, tasting the salty bitterness of his precum. His breath hitched, gifting you with a small, almost inaudible, gasp. 

Without warning, he sank into your throat with one single thrust, making you choke. Although having quite some experience with sucking him off, his cock always widened your throat uncomfortably if he didn’t give you time to adjust to his width. But neither of you wanted to slow down. This pleasure-pain, the feeling of being completely and utterly at his mercy - every nerve in your body burned with anticipation. You were sure he felt the same.

He moaned darkly as he bottomed out in your throat, feeling your lips touch his hip. “You take me so well, like you were made to swallow my cock. Just like the dirty girl you are.” Even if you would want to answer, you couldn’t. You could only choke desperately on his cock, trying to inhale air through your nose. But he gave you no time to adjust. His little girl was an expert in giving sloppy blowjobs, you were there to pleasure him and only him.

With a hard grip in your hair he began to thrust, stretching your throat over and over again. You could feel the piercings rub against the sensitive skin inside your pharynx. Saliva ran from the corners of your mouth, down your chin, dripping on the floor beneath you - but it helped him to sink his cock inside your throat. Your choking and his dark moans filled the otherwise silent room. Not nearly enough oxygen filled your lungs, making your head spin. But it excited you nevertheless. You pressed your legs together as the dildo started to vibrate once more, the setting even higher than before. It was hard to catch a straight thought. 

As he pulled back, you gasped for air, filling your burning lungs with the so much needed oxygen. Rough fingers rubbed across your chin, pushing a mixture of your saliva and his precum back inside your mouth. “You are so messy. Can’t even suck me off properly.” You swallowed without him demanding you to, which he acknowledged with a satisfied chuckle. The vibrator stopped completely and you moaned. On one hand relieved, on the other filled with panic. Would he allow you to cum? 

“You want to cum?” he asked and this time his voice came from behind you. How did he move so silently? Rough hands rubbed your thighs, kneading the sensitive skin close to your slick entrance, but not quite there. “Please, Capo! Please!” With one quick movement, he pulled the dildo out and you moaned shamelessly. 

Your pussy twitched around the sudden emptiness, painful nothing, wishing to be filled again. A finger rubbed across your twitching entrance, collecting your slick, and Risotto laughed softly. “You want it, look how your pussy is begging for me to finally fill you.” He pressed inside and your walls contracted around his digit, but it was nowhere near enough. You whimpered. “Don’t worry, you’ll get more.”

He drew back his finger and you felt him stand between your spread legs. His cock rested on your ass, his hands still playing with your thighs. “I want to hear you beg. I love to hear you despread whimpers.” He didn’t need to ask twice. “Please, Capo. Risotto! I need you inside me!” One hard thrust and he bottomed out, with how wet you were for him, he had no problems pushing inside. Finally, finally you could feel him.

He hit home, ramming mercilessly inside - the clapping of skin on skin mingled with your united moans and his cursing. The whole foreplay had excited you so much, that you orgasm approached rapidly. Even Risotto with the stamina of a sex god seemed to be close to his high. His thrusts lacked the usual precision, his cock twitched in a telltale manner inside your core, his moans were dark and throaty. 

As he pressed the vibrator against your clit and the toy came buzzing to life, you were done for. Screaming, you arched your back and twitched around his cock. Your orgasm rolled over you, robbing your breath for a few seconds, but Risotto never stopped. He pushed the vibrator against your clitoris, hard, just like the thrusts of his hips.

“That’s it! Cum for me. So good,” he growled, cursing several times under his breath. “You feel so good around me. So tight.” He kept stimulating you, until you couldn’t even moan anymore - just laying on your stomach, a quivering mess of twitching muscles. Just seconds after you felt him filling you. With a long moan he shot his load deep inside you, before slowly pulling out, his sperm started to drip out of you soon after.

For a few blissful moments it was quiet except for your rapid breathing, then he began to open your handcuffs and pulled you from the desk onto his lap. It seemed like he had sat down on the desk chair. Slowly he loosened your blindfold and light blinded you when it finally fell to the floor. Exhausted, you leaned against his chest, his hands caressing your sore wrists and the parts of your hip that had been pressed against the desk. Sex with Risotto meant bruises, but you didn’t mind. 

His fingers stroked through your hair, damp with sweat, before lifting your chin and placing soft kisses on your closed eyelids. “You’ve been so good for me.” More kisses were pressed all over your face, before he lingered on your lips. As he leaned back, he smiled. “I love you,” he finally said, and the way he spoke - full of adoration -, left no doubts in your mind. You just smiled and repeated the words softly, exhausted. 



When the game stops being fun and you have enjoyed all the benefits on your way, you have to end it. That's when the ace in the hole comes in handy. Unlike other players, you don’t like to cooperate in games. You play to win.

The taxi driver hoisted the suitcase out of the trunk of his car and you paid him generously with a large bill, not waiting for the change. Without a word you pulled the suitcase behind you and made your way to your apartment. The apartment neither of both man had ever seen. Your flip phone vibrated in your pocket and while you kept on moving you looked at the screen. 

A message from Bucciarati. “Have you been to our apartment today? Where are your belongings? Did I hurt you? Please call me and let us talk about this.” So he had already noticed your absence. Astonishing early, if he had appeared a few hours earlier, he would have caught you packing.

Bucciarati's team did not plan to defraud the current Don. Bucciarati himself was deeply committed to the organization. He was a good man and didn't deserve what you did to him. His love for you had been real. You had enjoyed the time you had spent together and if you hadn't already been in business for so long, you might have felt sorry for him. 

As you unlocked your apartment door, your phone screen lightened up again. This time it was a message from Risotto. “Your stuff has disappeared from my apartment. Where are you?" Another message came shortly thereafter. “Sorbet and Gelato have not reported in for a while. Answer when you read this.” His words may sound harsh, but despair and concern for you and his two team members was written between the lines.

La Squadra Esecuzioni wanted to betray the Don and Risotto himself had given you this information. Even though his love had expressed itself so differently from Bucciarati's, it had been just as real. Men like him were difficult to crack, feelings developed slowly. They revealed you so much after you shared the bed with them - but even more when you finally claimed their hearts.

Inside the apartment you put the suitcase aside and opened the phone. It was easy to remove the battery, pull out the SIM card and break it. So easy to server all contact forever. 

A Capo was only committed to his own team and the Don. You knew to whom your loyalty lays.

Chapter Text

It had been the hardest decision of your life. Admittedly, you were young, you hadn't had to make many difficult decisions yet - but in the years to come, no situation was nowhere close as gravely as the one at the pier. Become a traitor, risk your own life for the mere idea of a brighter future for Italy or survive and let your teammates, your friends, down.

You chose your team. He chose his life. 

You wanted to beg him to stay, not to leave you. But your lips remain sealed. It should be the last day you saw him, at least for a very long time. It was the day you broke up after several months of a happy relationship. You wanted to be angry with him, but deep down you knew it was a suicide mission, and choosing his own life over the greater good was probably the better idea. And it turned out he was right. On your mission to find the boss, you lost so many friends. Memories like old nails in your mind, to rusty to pull out. Remembering your dead friends still brought tears to your eyes.

It was the day all Capos swore allegiance to the new Don as you approached Giorno with a selfish request. You needed some time for yourself, time to come to terms with what happened, sorting out emotions, finding yourself again inside the mess you had become. You would never turn your back on Passione, but before you committed your life to the Mafia, you wanted to do something for yourself. You wanted to study.

After everything you did for Giorno, he immediately agreed. You were allowed to take as long as you needed and you did. At the beginning of the next semester, you applied to various universities that run your desired major - you didn't care which one, as long as it wasn't the one your ex-boyfriend had attended in younger years. You didn’t want to think about his abuse, the story he had once told you filled you with rage and grief equally. 

After receiving some acceptance letters you enrolled in the university that suited you the most. Everything went swimmingly that you briefly considered whether Giorno was somehow involved - after all he was now the Don and could pull all the strings if he so wished. The idea that he wanted to help you was nice, but you wanted to make it on your own, without the help of others. After probing the subject several times he assured you that he, in fact, had not interfered in your business.

The enrollment happened quick and without inconveniences, you couldn’t say the same about your search for a flat. That turned out to be far more difficult than expected. Apartments were in high demand and finding a place that wasn't too far from the campus without breaking your budget was nerve-wracking. Even if Giorno offered you to pay for an apartment, you still wanted to experience the full package university life had to offer. That included working a stupid part-time job in order to pay rent for a flat you would share with both annoying tenants and people who could turn out to be friends.

After several appointments with landlords and their current tenants, you finally found a group of students who shared a house with enough space for up to seven people. The rent, which was normally prohibitive, was acceptable and within your budget after being evenly divided between the tenants. The house was astonishingly beautiful, the students rather friendly. 

You wanted this place and, as it turned out, three rooms were free because the previous tenants had graduated last semester. Barely two weeks later, you were offered a room, another week later you signed the lease, and shortly before the semester started, you finally moved into your new home.



Although you had been living in the big house for three weeks already, you had only met half of your flatmates. Different majors and curriculums, different sleeping habits, and lifestyles helped to avoid others. Not to say you had no interest in meeting the rest of the people living with you, the right opportunity just hasn't occurred yet.

The first two weeks of university-life were terribly boring, filled with unnecessary information and introductions. In a few of your smaller courses the professors thought it would be an amazing idea to play introductory games with full-blown adults. The highlights of your week were a few entertaining conversations with fellow students, but you still hadn’t made any friends. However, a city trip with other freshmen had developed into a fun binge continuing till the sun of the next day rose over the skyline. 

After another boring but pleasantly short day at university, you made yourself dinner in the kitchen. Another roommate - Alessandro? - sat at the table and ate his own creation while browsing through a book, bored out of his mind. The mood was relaxed, but you weren't very interested in starting a conversation. He obviously didn't either, because the only greeting you got was a terse nod. 

As you watched the neon green numbers on the microwave clock tick down, you heard footsteps in the hallway. Someone entered the kitchen and you turned to greet whoever it was, but upon seeing who it was, your mouth stayed wide open. You had expected a lot, but not him . 

"Pannacotta?" No sooner had his name left your lips than he looked up and met your gaze. His eyes, too, widened in disbelief. It was quiet, an unpleasant silence seized the room, then he pronounced your name, almost in awe. "What are you doing here?" He finally asked and took a step towards you, but then stopped again. Unsure if he should come closer or not. 

"I live here. What are you doing here?” You repeated the same question and he echoed your answer, before adding: “Back then I never graduated. I wanted to finish my degree.” Then everything was quiet once more. "Awkward," said - Antonio? - and stretched the syllables as he shoveled a fork with food into his mouth. Pannacotta gave him a crushing look. "Shut up, Alberto." Said roommate just rolled his eyes. "My name is Angelo, idiot." Angelo got up and took his plate into the living room, leaving you two alone.

You had thousands of questions but you didn't know how to ask them. "You're studying here?" He finally broke the silence. "Yes, I took a little break, Giorno made it possible for me." Pannacotta's eyes softened but reflected deep sadness. "Are you okay?" He finally asked, his voice trembling slightly. With every second you didn't answer, Pannacotta became more restless, fidgeting nervously with his clothes. 

"Bruno, Leone, and Narancia are dead." Speaking it out loud made it real, bottled up memories flashed through your mind. It burned like bile in your throat. You didn't want to cry in front of him, but when he said your name - silent and caring -, the world came crashing down. Tears ran down your cheek and your shoulders began to tremble. You felt him hug you and pull you to his chest. 

You wanted to yell at him, hit him, blame him for the death of your friends. He had left you! You loved him. Why did this hug feel so good? You wanted to be angry with him! Instead you leaned into his embrace. You knew that it wasn't his fault and you couldn't blame him for his decision. Still, he didn't have the right to hug you like that again. You pushed him aside and rubbed your tearing eyes with the back of your hand. 

"Please don't touch me." When you looked up at him, you saw his shocked, big eyes. But the shock quickly turned in a sour mood. You could quite literally watch the anger boil in him and eventually build up so much that he swept some dirty dishes from the sink and smashed them on the floor. He screamed as the chinaware shattered and grabbed more glasses to throw them against the wall.

A few seconds later, some roommates were in the kitchen. While two boys tried to calm Fugo down - no use once he threw one of his tantrums - a girl put her arm around you and led you out of the room. On the other side of the apartment, you could still hear Fugo's screams. The girl spoke to you, asked if you were okay if Fugo had hurt you if she should call the police - but you stayed calm. His anger was not directed at you. He would never physically hurt you, not back then, not now. You were sure of that.



The next evening, after a hard day at university, there was a knock on your door. You sat on the bed, skimming the pages of a boring book for one of your classes. Still reading, you asked the person inside. Only as you heard them clear their throat you looked up. Fugo stood in the door frame and appeared to be glum. "I want to apologize for my outbreak yesterday," he admitted rueful, shifting his weight nervously from one leg to the other. 

Hearing an apology from Fugo was special, he never regretted his tantrums. But you never wanted an apology for that. You weren't angry with him for yelling at you. You were angry with him for leaving you. When you didn't answer, his jaw tightened. It was obvious that anger was building up in him again. "I know I have no right to," he began, but spat out the words almost disgustedly, "but I would like to hear what exactly happened."

You just stared at him, not knowing if you were mentally ready to confront yourself with the past. Sometimes you had nightmares, saw the bodies of your friends - mutilated. Eyes empty, lifeless, drained of all the emotions once burning inside. Movies never showed what it was really like to look into the eyes of a dead person. But you did. And it was terrifying. The moment you gaze into glossed over irises, you just knew. 

You didn't want to cry in front of Fugo when feelings of the past would overwhelm you. Besides, he had no right to ask of your friends. He had left all of you. "Sit down," you said anyway and pointed next to you. Who knows, maybe it even helped. Talking about the things you saw, haunting you at night. Fugo entered the room and closed the door behind him. You moved aside to make room for him. Far enough so you didn't have to touch him. He stayed silent and looked expectantly at you.

You shared a bed with him countless times. He was so close and yet you had never felt further away. Not even your first meeting had been this awkward. You missed his touch, his loving words, his kisses, the sex. Everything. You never would have broken up if he hadn’t left. Your love for him didn’t just fade away. You quickly dismissed the thought, and instead began to speak. 

The cruel adventure in search of the old Don, the journey, the fights. The sacrifices. Silent tears were already running down your cheeks as you talked about Leone. Your voice began to waver while mentioning Narancia. You had to pause several times because you were interrupted by brief hiccups. When you finally talked about Bruno, you were done for. You cried, screamed, hit your pillow. It was too much.

Fugo just sat next to you, knuckles white as he grabbed your blanket. He didn’t know what to do, wanted to hug you, embrace you in warmth, but dreaded your reaction. After all, you said you didn’t want him to touch you. Pictures filled your head, memories, splattered with blood, and torn flesh. Pent-up emotions swept over you. You wanted to scream at him, to hurt him, to take your anger out on him - but you knew you would regret the outburst. But you needed to do something. So you did the next best thing.

You grabbed his collar and yanked him unnecessarily rough against you, just to capture his lips with your own. The kiss - if you could call it that -, was loveless and short. But as you parted lips, he grabbed your neck, hard, and pulled you back. Your teeth clashed uncomfortably and you opened your mouth, pushing your wet tongue against his.

He pressed you on your back, holding you down against the mattress, and climbed over you. Not once breaking the kiss. More tongue and teeth than lips, too much spit, no gentle movements, just raw and angry desire. You tugged at his top, but he didn’t want to release the kiss, making it impossible for you to undress him. Curtly, you bit his lower lip, hard. He leaned back, hissing, licking across the spot.

Droplets of blood dripped from the small wound and he focused on you, eyebrows tugged together tightly. Instead of cursing, he pulled his top over his head and attacked you again - pressing his lips to your neck and slowly kissing down over sensitive skin, before pressing his teeth mercilessly into your collarbone. It hurt, but it hurt good. The pain suppressed all the other boiling emotions.

In an attempt to not just lie idly under him, you stroked over his belly, pulled your fingernails with slight pressure over his toned muscles, leaving light red stripes on his pale skin. He growled against your collarbone and pressed two more deep bites in your skin before he straightened up again to pull his top off his body. No sooner had he thrown the piece of clothing besides the bed than you turned with him.

You saddled his hips and held him down by his shoulders. Briefly, you pressed your lips to his chest, kissed across it before reaching a nipple, and biting roughly into the hardened bud. He gasped and reached for your neck to pull you back down against his lips. Your hands moved from his shoulders over his chest, pressing your fingernails deep into his flesh. 

The way he panted into the kiss, sharply inhaling air through gritted teeth, sent pleasant shivers through your whole body. Releasing pent-up anger this way felt good and it seemed like you weren’t the only one enjoying yourself. Not if the way his hard cock pressed against your ass was any indication of how much he missed your touch. He grabbed your hips hard, and pressed you against the tent in his trousers, eliciting a soft groan from both of you.

Impatiently you tampered with his belt and simply pulled it out of the loops while he unbuttoned your pants. When you didn’t make any efforts to lift your hips, he slapped your butt. The impact flashed like a lightning strike through your ass and you glared at him but lifted your hips wordlessly. You pulled down his pants and kneeled over him while wiggling out of your own. 

As soon as underwear was the only clothing left on your otherwise naked body, he grabbed your wrist and pinned you under him once more. His eyebrows were furrowed, teeth presented while snarling. He was irritated, angry, and aroused. The perfect combination of rough and loveless sex. The only kind of sex you could endure right now. 

When he did not move, you scratched your fingernails across his chest before reaching for his crotch and palming his hard cock over the fabric of his boxers. “Just fuck me already,” you demanded and watched his last bit of restraint disappear. Within seconds he had gotten rid of the last piece of clothing he wore and pulled your panties carelessly to the side to expose your dripping wet slit.

It only took one hard thrust for him to bottom out, making you both moan. He granted you no time to adjust to his size and just started to rock into your core. Rough, hard and mercilessly he trusted forward, stretching your walls in a mixture of pleasure-pain - a slight ache of excitement darting through every fiber of your body. His hands were everywhere, kneading, scratching, grabbing, turning you into a quivering mess. 

You were way too angry to just let him fuck you, so you wrapped your legs around his hips, pressing yourself up against every thrust. He filled you so well - you missed feeling him like this. You both had lost your virginity to each other and up until now, he was the only man you ever had sex with. You were torn from your thoughts, as he hit that one point in you. You moaned loudly and pierced his back with your fingernails, which he acknowledged with a deep growl and even stronger movements of his hips.

“Fuck, you’re so tight,” he cursed and pressed his lips against your neck before biting down again, bruising your skin. Pain collided with passion and without touching your clitoris, your orgasm washed over you. Breathing was hard, your vision blurry. You buried your teeth in his arms because you couldn't lift your head enough to meet his neck - everything was spinning. 

Fugo never stopped pounding into you, just kept moaning your name like it was the only thing in his mind. His cock slipped out and he groaned in annoyance. Immediately he grabbed your hips and turned you onto your stomach. Firm hands massaged your bottom and he rammed back inside your twitching core. Your lungs burned, you could barely catch your breath, but the pain was fantastic. 

“Can I,” he began, his warm breath brushed across your ear, all hair in your neck stood up. You could feel his cock twitch, announcing his approaching orgasm, and knew exactly what he was asking for. “Yes,” you moaned in reply and pressed your hip back against his. “I’m on birth control. Cum inside.” Fugo moaned and his thrusts stopped, then he came deep inside you while growling your name in your ear.

Exhausted he fell on your back and his cock twitched a few more times inside you before he rolled off and lay beside you, out of breath. You, too, turned on your back and looked at the ceiling. Sweat rolling over your body. What now? You listened to Fugo’s breathing, wishing for him to break the silence. The hatred had evaporated, but the tears returned, slowly filling your eyes. His touch had felt so good and yet it was painful to know that it would never be the same as before. You were no lovers. He felt like a stranger. This was just sex without feelings. So why did you feel so much?

Without warning, Fugo wrapped his arms around your body and pulled you to his side. Even as you tried to get out of his grip, he didn't give up. “I shouldn't have left. I was a coward,” he admitted, his cheek pressed against yours. You felt tears on your skin - tears that were not yours -, and stopped your resistance. "I should never have left you."

When he said your name, his voice broke and Fugo sobbed. His head fell back on the pillow and he let go of you, put an arm over his eyes to hide the steady stream of tears. His whole body trembled. You sat up carefully, looking down at his trembling figure. You carefully took his hand and released it from his face, looked into his red eyes. 

You wanted to forgive him, say that you still loved him. But it was too early. Instead, you leaned forward and kissed his forehead tenderly. “If you want to make it up for me, we should graduate first. Afterward we'll go back to Passione. Together."

A desperate sound escaped Fugo's throat and he shook his head. “Why should they take me back? I left. I can no longer face them.” He didn't look at you, so you laid your hand on his cheek, turning his head gently towards you. “Panacotta Fugo. If you really regret leaving and if our team, our friends, have ever meant something to you, if I have ever meant anything to you, you will make peace with Passione, with Don Giovanna and Consiglieri Mista.”

Fugo just looked up at you, eyes filled with doubt, anger, and fear. He put his warm hand on yours and pressed his face into your soft palm. "You are the only good thing in this world that is still important." He hadn’t agreed but you felt like he was going to. Someday in the future. 

You felt his love among all the raging emotions. A little flame of affection, after all this time, still not extinguished. The touch of the other like oxygen for the fire. There was still a long way to go, to heal all the scars, but his words were a good start. Your own flame blazed a little brighter again.

Chapter Text

Joseph Joestar was an idiot. Easily irritated and manipulated, vulnerable in his pride, yet far too self-confident. He could be unintentionally sexist and has been arrested several times for brawling. He had also been expelled from the school you both attended. Nevertheless, or rather just because of that, you loved to spend every second of your free time with him. He had a sense of humour, was spontaneous, and enjoyed life. Spending time with him was addicting. Everything he does was exciting.

But you hadn't expected this.

He stood under your window, smiling. Arms crossed over his chest, his back against a beautiful, expensive car. The car of his guardian, his grandmother - Erina Pendleton Joestar. "Your next line is ‘I didn't think you'd actually go through with it’.” The first few words rolled off your tongue before you could stop yourself and purse your lips in annoyance. You hated it when he did that. Why was he always right with his predictions?

"You stole your grandmother's car? She'll kill you," you said calmly, he just grinned. "Not if I get it back fast enough. Granny Erina doesn't drive it herself, she’ll only know it’s gone when the chauffeur notices. So come on, let’s go!" You had already changed into your pajamas and looked at him, confused. "Go where exactly?" Your boyfriend wasn't really planning to leave so close to midnight, right? If your parents found your empty bed, you'd be in just as much trouble as he was.

"Ozoner! My treat, babe. You said you wanted to go for a ride in my grandma's car. Here I am." He was right. You had been teasing him for weeks about how he wouldn’t dare to steal the car - teasing in the assumption that he wouldn’t really do it. He had just been suspended from school and Mrs. Joestar was livid. As you didn't answer directly, he continued to persuade you, "Come on, don’t leave me hanging, beautiful. Make yourself pretty for me. After all, this is a date." You rolled your eyes and closed the window. But when he couldn't see you anymore, you smiled softly and hurried to comply with his request.

You didn't expect him to actually go through with it, but you were hoping he would. Steal his grandmother's car and take it for a joyride? That sounded like fun. You changed quickly out of your pajama into a comfortable summer dress - simple but pretty - then you sneaked outside. "There she is! My beauty, my love!" he shouted effusively as you stepped out of the house. "Jojo! Be quiet, my parents are sleeping," you hissed back but your words were betrayed by your broad smile. You really loved this knucklehead.

Joseph held the car door open for you and gave you his familiar grin - the one where you just have to smile back. You fastened your seat belt and waited for Joseph to get in and start the engine. When he pulled out of the driveway, he put one arm around your backrest and looked at you instead of the street, still grinning. "Are you proud of yourself?" you asked with a smile. "Of cause! It's so hard to surprise you, this is something to be proud of." His exuberant enthusiasm was contagious.

He turned on the radio and drove off, tires screeching. You turned around and saw lights flickering on, illuminating the windows of your home. Your parents had woken up - you would be in huge trouble once you would get back. Yet you couldn't help but throw your head back and laugh heartily. Adrenaline pulsed through your veins. Your mood couldn’t get any better. You would worry about your parents' punishment later.

"So, what movie are they showing?" you asked Joseph, who was driving along the main road towards the outskirts of town. "Oh, there is a performance of La Bête Humaine. It's a romantic drama, I bet you’ll love it!" Even if you didn't know for sure, he probably butchered the French pronunciation. "You voluntarily watch a romantic movie with me? Who are you and what did you do with my Jojo?"

His smile widened. "For you? Always. And maybe it will put you in the right mood." He wiggled his eyebrows a little and glanced over at you for a moment before he turned his gaze back to the empty street in front of him. "So that's what this is all about. I see." Your parents had raised you as a lady and as such it might have been more appropriate if you'd been embarrassed. But your parents also taught you that boys like Joseph meant trouble. Yet here you were, sitting next to exactly that kind of boy they always had warned you about. His directness was what you liked about him. Besides - sex with him was amazing.

At the beginning of your relationship, he was inexperienced, but his enthusiasm to satisfy you was enough to make your first time a wonderful experience. All the times after that had only got better and by now you were a well-rehearsed team, knew each other's bodies by heart. Every birthmark, every scar, every sensitive little spot. You would definitely sleep with him today and it wouldn't be because he watched a romantic movie with you.

At the entrance to the ozoner, Joseph bought two tickets and drove to the square, relatively far to the side, car hidden in the shadows of the high fence. His intention was probably to nick a few kisses without being noticed. The huge screen didn't show anything interesting yet, but the projector illuminated the square in bright white light. His parking spot choice made it possible for both of you to enjoy yourself unnoticed in the shadows. You smiled slightly and pressed a short kiss on his cheek.

"You know what I love about you?" His eyes lit up at your words, the grin grew wider. "My steel muscles? My good looks? My intelligence?" Laughing, you stroked his hair with your fingers, then pulled him into a gentle kiss. "Hm, that too. But actually, I was referring to your sense of humor and mischief. No day with you is ever boring. You're spontaneous and fun and exciting”, You muttered against his lips and even though you couldn't see it, you were sure he was blushing.

But his voice showed no shame as he answered, "For a lady like you, I need to be exciting. I wouldn't stand to lose you. I’d do anything for you." He laughed and pressed you firmly to his chest. The gearstick between your bodies pressed uncomfortably in your side, making the hug - and the things you had planned for later - sightly harder to do. Well, you had to find a solution for that later.



The movie was interesting, but you were distracted. Ever since you got in the car, your adrenaline level had reached dangerous heights. You needed to work off some steam, but with a perfect man like Joseph by your side, that seems like an impossible job. You glanced around, noticing several kissing couples in adjacent cars. Without further ado, you put one hand on Joseph's thigh and slowly started stroking up and down.

For a few minutes he didn't seem to notice anything, but the longer you touched him, the more he got distracted, sometimes looking at you out of the corners of his eyes. The first real reaction you got was when you palmed his crotch. He inhaled sharply and whispered your name in confusion. Instead of answering, you rubbed gently, followed the outline of his soft cock with the palm of your hand, felt him twitch slightly under the touch.

Only when he grabbed your wrist and stopped you, you took your time to look up. "What are you doing?" he asked, lowering his voice, even though no one was able to hear him. You tried to see his facial expression in the darkness, but the move only lit parts of his face. "I thought it was pretty obvious." Even though you couldn't stroke him anymore - he was still holding your wrist tightly -, you squeezed him gently. He gasped.

"Here?" His voice was no louder than a whisper, and he turned his head to the side, probably trying to see if someone else was watching you. "Hmm, we don't have to if you don't want to. But nobody's gonna see us if we're quiet." Joseph cleared his throat, but let go of your wrist. You immediately began to rub across his crotch again, causing him to gasp your name. 

As much as Joseph always tried to appear like the tough, dominant boyfriend, he was happy to let you take the reins and relinquish control. This did not mean that he was never dominant, but he loved it when you used him in any way you wanted to. Still, you two had never done it in public, nor had you talked about the possibility. This was new, exciting and you wanted it. Slowly you pulled down the zipper of his trousers and heard his breathing hatch.

You reached into his jeans and palmed his still soft member over his underpants. Joseph gasped again and rolled his head back, enjoying the way you toyed with him. With every gentle pressure, each slow stroke with the palm of your hand, he got harder. You wanted to lean over and kiss him, but the gearstick between the two front seats thwarted your plans once more. Without further ado, you grabbed the lever of his seat and he fell back.

Joseph slightly jumps, obviously startled. "Hey!" he cried out in indignation, but before he could complain any further, you climbed over to him, settling on his lap. It was hard to find a comfortable position on the narrow seat, your knees kept slipping slightly to the side and you couldn't sit up properly either. Your head was already pressing against the roof of the car, so you just snuggled up against his chest while your hands found their way between your bodies.

Your fingers caressed his broad chest and down his flat stomach before they, once more, stroked over his crotch. His cock was already forming a tent under the fabric of his boxers and with a smile, you let your hand slide under the waistband. You felt the carefully trimmed pubic hair and played with the curls before your fingers reached his erection.

As soon as you felt his hot skin between your fingers, you started to pump him with your first. Without lube the movements were cumbersome, but Joseph still groaned, pressing his face against your neck. "That feels good," he gasped in your ear and grabbed your hip to pull you closer. With your thumb you collected his precum and spread it over his length, making the movements easier after a while.

Joseph trembled beneath you, his hot hands greedily gripping your thighs and your ass. Every spot he could reach with his lips was kissed, licked, and sucked on. He growled as you cupped his balls squeezed sightly. "Fuck, baby, I want to be inside you, I need to feel you around me." His honesty made you laugh softly and you gave him a little kiss on the nose.

"Maybe if you ask nicely?" Joseph looked at you with those big, beautiful eyes and you could see the wheels turning in his head, looking for an answer. His mind going from ‘I'm not begging', to 'Come on, baby, don't tease me', to 'Please, please baby, I want to fuck you' in under a second. But with your hand on his cock, still massaging him, it was hard for him to think straight.

Several times you interrupted him with a particularly strong pump of your first as he tried to give an answer. Each time he rewarded you with a long-drawn-out moan, slowly losing his mind. The air in the car was stuffy and the windows visibly fogged up, even if someone should look in from the outside, you were certainly no longer visible.

"Do you want to tell me something?" you asked innocently and spread kisses across his strong jaw before nibbling on his earlobe. "Please, baby. I want you to ride me," he finally pressed out between throaty groans. His plea twitched through your body like an electric shock. You loved how his voice had dropped a few octaves, making him sound so needy for your touch. Who could resist such a man?

You removed your hand from his cock just to lift your hips and pull his pants down further. "Do you have a condom?" you asked and sat down on his thighs, but instead of looking at his face, you looked at his erect penis as it twitched against his stomach. He was the perfect size for you. Long, thick, slightly curved. It was - pretty? Could you say pretty to a penis? You laughed at your own thoughts. 

"Baby, come on," muttered Joseph and you looked up. He held a condom in front of your face, turning it between his fingers. As expected, he always had one with him, you just had been too distracted to see him pull it out of his wallet. You took it from him and a few seconds later you rolled it over his erect cock, rubbing it a few times for good measure before straddled him again.

His hands stroked up your legs and slowly disappeared under the fabric of your dress. Mischief gleaming in his eyes, smiling at you the whole time. That toothy, confident grin you loved and hated at the same time. His fingers pressed into the skin of your thighs, kneaded the soft flesh before he moved further up and grabbed your ass. “You are so beautiful”, he said, while reaching for your panties and pulled them aside.

He helped you to find the right position, supported you with his hands on your hips before you lowered yourself on his cock. No matter how often you had sex, it was always an amazing feeling when he stretched your walls and filled you to the brim. Together you gasped and you cuddled up against his chest to kiss him. For a short time, you stayed in that position, lips melting together, bodies pressed against each other, tongues entangled in a wet dance before you lifted your hips and started to move.

Joseph gasped in your mouth and sucked lightly on your tongue while his hands moved over your ass. You couldn't really bounce on his hip in that position, so you just rocked your hips back and forth, feeling his cock widening you again and again. "Fuck, baby, you're so hot, so tight. Fuck." As he thrusts into you from below, you moan loudly and press a hand against the ice-cold windows. Your fingers left streaks on the steamed glass.

The air in the car was running low and the lack of oxygen made your head spin. His moaning was like music to your ears, yet you pressed your lips to his, muffling his voice. If you were to get caught because of him, you could never leave your house again. But the mere thought that someone could hear you - you moaned into his mouth. Sweat ran down your forehead, for him it was no difference - you could see his hair stick to his damp skin.

He helped you move your hips, lifted you up, and let you push down, meeting you halfway every time. Then he hit this one spot inside of you and to silent your moan you bit hard into his lower lip. The taste of copper on your tongue. Joseph's cock twitched inside you and then two fingers pressed against your clitoris. With skillful movements, he rubbed your pearl and brought you closer and closer to orgasm.

You turned your head to the side, released the kiss to gasp for air. His breath was intermittent, but he filled the silence with obscene words. How good you felt, how hot your body was, how much he loved it when you rode him. Your fingers reached into his hair, pulled his head hard forward. You shut him up with a wild kiss while you came.

Your scream was muffled by his lips, but not for a second did he stop his thrust. Strong arms embraced your body and he sat up slightly, angeling his cock different, now hitting the point in you with every stroke. You leaned back more, making it easier for him to move. Your back hit the cold leather of the steering wheel and as he sank into you, you pressed the horn with your shoulder blades. Fuck.

Joseph moaned into the kiss and you felt his hot semen filling the condom. His whole body tensed up before he sank limply back into the driver's seat. Breathing heavily, you slumped on his chest. Dazed, you heard people complaining, somewhere far, far away. Only when the light of a flashlight shone into the window and someone knocked against the glass with their knuckles were you suddenly fully conscious again.

You climbed off Joseph's lap at breakneck speed and straightened your hair, while Joseph adjusted his clothes without removing the condom and put the driver's seatback in an appropriate position. There was another knock. Joseph rolled down the window. Cold outside air flooded the heated car. A guard shone his flashlight into the car, his face hidden in the shadows of his cap.

"You are disturbing the other guests," the elderly man calmly noted but seemed tense. "If you honk the horn one more time, I'll have to call the police." You looked to the side, embarrassed, hoping that he had only heard the horn. Joseph, on the other hand, saved the situation, as always, with his absolutely positive charisma. "Of course, sir! We're very sorry." The guard just rolled his eyes and muttered something about 'teenagers' before he left.

Joseph rolled up the window and then grinned over at you. "We need to do this again," he said with a laugh. Groaning, you hid your face in your hands. Why did you love him so much?

Chapter Text

It should hurt, you thought. Being tied by both arms and legs, hanging mid-air, not one body part touching the bed below you. But it didn’t hurt. Hierophant Green had so many of his tentacle-like limbs wrapped around your body that your weight was evenly distributed and he didn’t cut into your skin. Somehow it felt like flying. After all, you couldn’t see your husband's stand - you only knew about his abilities because he told you about them. Bizarre stories about non-human beings. 

To you it looked like you were floating in the air while your husband was sitting on a chair in front of the bed, watching you with dark eyes. You were naked, your clothes scattered all over the room because Kakyoin couldn’t wait and had begun to undress you on the way to the bedroom. You tried to squeeze your legs together, wanted to hide your naked sex from his piercing gaze, but invisible shackles held your legs spread wide apart. He felt your muscles twitch through Hierophant Green and his lips curled into a grin.

“Don’t try to hide from me, you are so beautiful.” To underline his words, you felt something move over your wet folds. Light pressure, cold. Inhuman. But it pulsed, was alive. “Nori,” you whispered softly, not knowing why. You just had to utter his name, let him know that you thought of him while something else touched you. “I am here, angel. Does something hurt? Do I have to be gentler?” You shook your head, felt something wrap around your neck, softly, like a hug. But you knew that this something had the power to end your life. It just needed to press down a bit more, snapping your neck or choking you. You had no way to defend yourself. You trembled, but not in fear. 

“I wanted this for so long,” Kakyoin said calmly and his eyes wandered over your body. His gaze lingered longer on some parts, the bonds there contracted sightly, pressing into your skin. Your thighs were pulled a little further apart, your breasts were pushed together. “I am so glad that you agreed to this, angle.” The ribbons ran over your nipples, hardening immediately under the friction.You pressed your eyes shut. “You look so beautiful, so perfect.” His praise sent hot shivers down your spine and a soft whimper escaped your lips. “Nori,” you begged once more.

The pulsating ribbons of his stand continued to wrap themselves around your neck, pulling your head slightly to the side. "Look at me." His voice was so much closer. You opened your eyes in surprise. He hadn't moved, still sitting on the armchair next to the bed, it was rather your body that had come closer to his, hovering next to him. You were looking directly into his face. "What do you want, angel? I'll give you anything." You felt his hot breath on your face, so close. You wanted to lift your arm, to touch him, but every movement was impossible. His lips curled back into a slight grin, almost pretentious. Could he feel what you were trying? "Do you want to touch me? That would be nice, wouldn't it? Your fingers across my chest, holding my shoulders while you sit on my lap, your thighs pressing against mine while you bounce on my cock. Using me like a toy."

He drew you a picture with words and you moaned. "I want to touch you, Nori." He reached out his hand and played with your hair, rolling wisps of it between his fingertips. "I know, angel. But it's too soon. Just be patient a little longer, okay?" With that, he stood up and took a step towards you. You moved with him and his hands gently run over your legs as he walked towards the bed. With every step he took, the ribbons around your body tightened before slackening again. Like working muscles. Every part of your skin was touched, massaged, rubbed. They were such gentle touches, not nearly enough - but they were everywhere. The multitude was driving you out of your mind.

Kakyoin stopped in front of the bed and let his eyes wander over your body once more. Then he stood between your legs and, ashamed, you closed your eyes as he placed his face right between your thighs. You felt his breath on your naked sex. Then a finger. You lay your head back groaning. "You're already so wet. So beautiful." Kakyoin kissed your mound and put his hands on your legs before pressing his face right where you wanted it. Without warning, his tongue pressed against your labia, moving up and down, tasting your excitement. You groan his name. His hands pressed down, fingers piercing the flesh of your thighs, and at the same time, all the ribbons around your body contracted more strongly. It was heaven.

"Hmm. I love your taste. Your smell." As he spoke, his breath rolled over your inner thighs, kissed the tender skin. Then he attacked again. Pressed his tongue to your entrance, spread your labia with his fingers to give him more room to play. He sucked, kissed, a bit. Every move was skillful. He muttered your name, leaped up your juices, each stroke of his tongue vigorous. The noises he made were absolutely indecent . It made you blush with shame, but he was so good at it. His tongue was the stairway to heaven. But as he pressed another finger into your twitching core, you threw your head back, wiggled in your restraints, and screamed his name.

His tongue stopped, but his finger moved faster, working mercilessly over your walls. As you looked whimpering between your legs, you met his dark hungry gaze. His face wet with your juices. He licked his lips slowly. "That's it, angel. Call my name. You are so, so good for me." With that, he pushed back down and sucked your clitoris between his lips, circled the pearl with his deft tongue while his finger pumped further into you. You screamed, trying to do something, to grab anything. But all you could do was throw your head back and wiggle your toes and fingers. The rest of your body was immobilized. Your mind lost to passion, incoherent begging - a mix of whimpering his name and screaming for release.

"Please, Nori. Oh, please, please." A mantra on your tongue, never stopping, always whimpering his name. You wanted to come. You had to come. You were so close. He pressed another finger inside you and while attacking you with his tongue, he finally found that one point inside you. Your body vibrated and you screamed his name, shameless and unrestrained, as the world around you blurred. You no longer felt his touches, only the lust that shot through your body before you hung limply in the ribbons of his stand.

Your body trembled, you felt yourself being moved but your eyes only saw a mixture of colours, no clear picture. You felt soft material in your back, your legs were lifted. A weight between your thighs. The ribbons around your body never loosened, just massaging your heated flesh. Red colour filled your field of vision and slowly you could focus your eyes again. Kakyoin lay over you, his hands gently stroking your cheek, caressing your lips with his thumb. His red hair hung over his shoulders like a waterfall. He was so beautiful. So beautiful. Beautiful. You wanted to kiss him and tried to lift your head, but the ribbons around your neck held you back. You whimpered. 

He smiled and leaned forward, catching your lips in a gentle kiss while he rolled his hip against yours. Your arms were pulled up, the ribbons holding them together above your head. Your legs moved next, knees were pressed against your chest. Kakyoin followed the movements, hands stroking your skin, touching the few parts of your body that were not wrapped by his invisible stand. Between the cold of the ribbons, his fingers were burning hot. He released the kiss and looked into your eyes. "You sound like an angel when you cum for me." But his praise hardly reached your ears - you only felt his excitement. Hard and hot in his trousers, pressed right against your ass as he pressed his hip against yours.

"Nori, please take me already." A dark, contented growl vibrated in his chest. "Of course, angel. Right away. Anything you want. Anything for you." And while he undressed, you couldn't take your eyes off him, not even for a second. While his long fingers unbuttoned the buttons of his shirt, slowly revealing pale, soft skin; While the shirt slipped off his shoulders and the delicate muscles in his arms tightened, you had a clear view of the large scar on his chest; While he straightened up and loosened his belt to slip out of his pants; While he slipped his thumb into the waistband of his underpants and slowly pulled them down; While his arousal jumped out of the captivity of his underpants, long but not wide, surrounded by well-groomed red hair. A perfect equilibrium of hard muscles and soft skin. Masculine with the right touch of femininity. He was truly beautiful.

You were pulling on your shackles - desperately trying to touch him, kiss every part of his skin, show him how much you loved him. By word and eed. But Hierophant Green didn't yield an inch, and you whimpered Kakyoin's name. "I know angel," he replied and lay down between your spread legs, his fingers stroking the sensitive skin of your inner thighs. "Let me take care of you." With this, he angled his hips right and slowly pressed his hot cock into your core. Moaning, you pressed your eyes together, wanted to throw your head back, claw your hands into the bedspread, wrap your legs around Kakyoin's hip - but no movement was possible. You could only lie defenceless under him and take what he gave you.

Sex with Kakyoin was a mixture of passion and love. Corny due to honest expressions of love and looks full of affection. Exciting due to hard thrusts and dexterous fingers in exactly the places you needed them. You had been married for so long and were a couple for even longer - you knew each other's bodies by heart. But every time he pushed into you like this, it felt like the first time. Animistic lust. Fast and greedy movements of bodies that need the other. Dark moans and indecent words whispered against flushed skin. His eyes were focused on your face. He enjoyed the way your lips parted, how your tongue flicked out, and these loud moans. Calling out his name. "I love the way you moan my name," he confessed and leaned forward. Kakyoin caught your lips in a kiss.

Not for a second did he stop his hips, pushed time and time again inside and you moaned into the kiss. His hands lingered on your cheek, caressed the reddened skin. Thumbs brushed aside tears that you unconsciously shed through the pent-up lust. But his hands should finally touch you in other places - places that would finally let you see heaven. "Nori!" you whimpered his name and wanted to beg for the sweet, sweet release you were longing for, but he beat you to it. One of Hierophant Green's ribbons rubbed across your belly and finally pressed on your clitoris. It was a strange feeling. A cold, pulsating touch, too wide for a finger, but just as dexterous.

"Hie-," you started, but you were interrupted by your own moaning as your husband's stand began to stimulate your clitoris. Quick movements, mixed with gentle pressure and Kakyoin's thrusts. Kakyoin's cock twitched noticeably in your core, as you tried to pronounce the name of his stand. He rammed himself deeper into you and finally found your spot again, just to mercilessly rub it with the tip of his cock. Hierophant Green continued to stimulate your clitoris. It was too much - It was just good enough. Your walls fluttered around him, wanted more, got wetter. You wanted to scream his name, but your voice died in your throat. You came with a silent scream.

Neither Kakyoin nor Hierophant Green stopped with the touches, the thrusts. Kakyoin whispered in your ear. "So tight, so perfect. Oh, angel. I'm cumming." The movements of his hips became faster, but not as deep. Sloppy and shallow. His cock twitched in a telltale manner and only a few strokes later his orgasm overwhelmed him. You felt his hot cum fill you. He collapsed on your chest. His body was not too heavy - it was thin for a man of his size -, but it still made breathing hard. You wanted to hug him, play with his hair. The ribbons around your body loosened and vanished into nothing. Hierophant Green had withdrawn. Without thinking about it, you wrapped your arms around Kakyoin's body, pressed your lips to his forehead. His head was on your chest and you felt his breath on your collarbone. He looked up as you stroked his hair with your fingers.

You smiled at him. He smiled back. Now that the cold ribbons of his stand had disappeared, you could feel his warmth, pressing yourself closer to his body. Kakyoin turned with you so you both lay on your sides, looking at each other. Your fingers danced across his arms, up to his cheek, through his hair. Kakyoin just smiled. A look full of adoration and pure, innocent love.

Gently you caressed his full lips with your thumb. His eyes fluttered shut, he enjoyed your soft touches. Now that he wasn't looking at you anymore, you let your eyes wander, examining the scars above his eyes. He had told you how he had received them, even if he had left out some unpleasant details. Just like the terrible scar on his chest. Kakyoin's breath stopped briefly as your fingers moved across the large hole-shaped scar, but he remembered it was you. He calmed down again.

At the beginning of your relationship, he didn't want to undress in front of you - only had sex with you when he was dressed. He was ashamed of his scar. But it was a part of him and you loved him to the bone. All of it. Which is why it felt so strange not knowing what Hierophant Green was.

"What does it look like?" The question had been in your head for so long, but you never asked it. Kakyoin looked at you questioningly before he understood what you asked. "Hierophant? Why?" You shrugged your shoulders even though you knew exactly why. "It's part of your soul, isn't it? I want to know everything about you."

For a moment it was quiet, then you added, "Besides if we want to do something like this again, I want to meet it." Invisible arms wrapped around your middle. Noriaki smiled. Maybe he should have introduced you to his stand much earlier.

Chapter Text

Jotaro was your boyfriend, but he only behaved like that when you two were alone. That was okay, really. You loved him and you had decided together that it was easier to keep your relationship a secret. At least until the journey was over and you defeated DIO. On the one hand, you wouldn't be subjected to the constant teasing by the other Crusaders - which would probably affect Jotaro the most - and on the other hand, Jotaro was worried that DIO would use you as a target if he found out about your relationship. A legitimate concern, you thought. You were a sore point for Jotaro and DIO would use all possibilities to hurt the Joestars.

So you kept your relationship secret. It wasn't even hard. Jotaro hated PDA with a passion and you could definitely wait until you were truly alone. So that part didn't bother you too much. The problem was that he behaved like the biggest idiot as soon as the others were close by. Sexist and arrogant - after all you're a woman and, in the minds of most men, have no idea what you're talking about. You knew he wasn't really serious about the things he said to you in front of the others. Still, his words hurt. Sometimes he'd say ‘God, you're so annoying’ after fooling around with Polnareff. Or it was a short, 'Shut up' if you remarked something about his behaviour. Other times he'd just roll his eyes and call you a weak woman. 

Utterances that made you angry and disappointed but still decided to overlook because it was Jotaro. Your love, the man of your dreams, your better - or rather worse - half. You knew his behaviour before you were a couple, but you also knew how he treated you when it was just the two of you. What a good boyfriend he could be. But not this time. This had been going too far.



Bitch. The words rang in your ears like alarm bells. The babble of voices at the table died away right after Jotaro uttered the words. You were in the hotel restaurant - for the first time after a long while finally a comfortable bed to sleep in -, just enjoying your dinner. You had only thanked Jotaro for rushing to your aid in battle today. It had become dicey, and admittedly, without him, you probably wouldn't be sitting here anymore. You had expected an rude answer, and it came. He had called you an inept, weak woman. Nothing new. So you countered by telling him about the times you had helped him in battle. But you had not expected his reply.

"You're annoying. Don't talk so much, bitch."

Bitch. The moment he said it, you saw his eyes widen minimally before he hid his face under his cap. His expression stubborn as ever. At least he seemed to regret it at the exact moment the word left his lips. He knew how much you hated it when he called his own mother this word. How dare he call you that? You heard Joseph yelling at his grandson, felt Kakyoin's worried look on you, but instead of reacting, you just stood up. "I think I'm retreating to my room for tonight. Thanks for dinner Mr. Joestar. It was very delicious." You left the table, but could barely walk three steps. Two strong arms were wrapped around your waist. For a moment you were surprised - you didn't expect Jotaro to do something like that in front of the others - but as you looked down, saw the purple hands on your belly, you understood.

"Don’t worry, Star. I am just going to bed." The faint ‘ora’ whispered in your ear sounded worried. "Please let go of me, Star. I want to leave." Slowly, Star Platinum released its grip and you continued walking away. No sooner had you left the restaurant than you heard a loud and angry roar of your boyfriend's stand - apparently Star Platinum was very unhappy with Jotaro. It always amazed you how Star displayed Jotaro’s inner turmoil to the outside world. While Jotaro tried to make everyone believe that he was tough to the bone, Star Platinum stood behind him with a big goofy grin on his face. It had happened more than once that Star jumped into battle for you without any orders from his user. It was further proof that Jotaro really loved you, he was just too big of an idiot to show it. Fortunately, the embodiment of his soul succeed in this task.

Honestly, you weren't even that angry. You were just disappointed. You've known Jotaro for so long, you knew how much you meant to him. He loved you, would sacrifice his life for you, just as he did for his mother. He was a good man, hidden deep beneath his bad character. The other crusaders would know immediately something was wrong if Jotaro suddenly treated you differently - but couldn’t he at least be a bit more modest with his insults? You could endure his harsh words in order to keep your relationship secret. But that was too much even for you. Over and over the word echoed in your head. His voice, dark and aggressive. Bitch.

Suddenly it was no longer just disappointment. Anger was building up, raging in your mind, the more you thought about it. Why did you let him treat you like that? He was your boyfriend and could be so affectionate when the two of you were alone. You loved those quiet moments, just the two of you cuddled against each other. But that side of Jotaro disappeared in the blink of an eye as soon as one of the other Crusaders was in proximity. And suddenly you were left with the asshole Jotaro always presented to be. You were tired of it. Really, really tired. You wouldn't come crawling back to him this time. You slammed the door while retiring to your single room.



It was late at night, you laid on your bed when there was a knock at the door. The lamp on your bedside table lit the room in dim light and you were flipping through a magazine. You could hardly see the glossy pages, let alone the clock on the wall. It took a lot of effort to recognize the hands - just before midnight. There was another knock and you stubbornly turned the pages, ignoring the rap. Of course, it was Jotaro, but at this time of night, you didn't have the nerve to talk to him. "I know you're awake, I see the light under the door." His dark voice sounded hollow through the wood. You snorted. "It's late. Let me sleep." Despite your anger, your voice sounded tired, disappointed. For a moment it was quiet, you heard him mumbling something under his breath, irritated - probably his well-known catchphrase. Then he sighed and pronounced your name calmly. "Star won't let me sleep all night unless you talk to me." You snorted again. "I'm so sorry about that." The sharp sarcasm in your voice was met with another sigh. You heard footsteps, Jotaro moved away from your door. Then you heard a loud 'ora', angry, demanding. The steps moved closer. There was another knock.

"Open the door. I'm coming in anyway." Once again, Star Platinum's loud voice was heard, this time outraged by the words of its user. Seemingly Star was as unhappy with Jotaro as you were. You knew Jotaro would make good on his threat, so you stood up, grumbling. "Wait." You put a robe over your nightgown, making your way towards the door. Stands had to obey their user, once an order was given, they followed. Some behaved like an empty shell, acting only when told to. A trait you saw most in Silver Chariot. Others could even speak and make conversation. Star Platinum was a strange mixture of both. He could communicate - even though his vocabulary was just one word - but he was idle until Jotaro commanded him. But since emotions were involved, Star appeared more often. Acting on his own.

As you opened the door, Star Platinum attacked you with a firm hug and whirled you around. It put a smile on your face and you even reciprocated his embrace after he put you back on your feet. Your gaze wandered to Jotaro who watched you and his stand. His lips were pressed together to a narrow line, his face unreadable. "Ora!", Star called and pressed your head against his broad chest while he stared down his own user. It was kind of a strange feeling. Jotaro's own soul had to tell him that his behaviour was beneath contempt. It also showed you that Jotaro knew exactly that what he said and did was wrong, but he didn't know what else to do. 

He just stood in front of the door, arms crossed over his chest, cap pulled into his face. Even now he couldn't apologize. Angry, you broke free from Star's hug and moved over to the bed. "I think you should leave." Star wanted to reach out for you, but you had fled too quickly from his proximity, and without Jotaro moving closer he couldn't follow. A sad 'ora' echoed inside the room. It was hard to ignore it - why did Star Platinum have to make it so difficult for you? You felt like the bad guy in this situation. You were standing idly in front of the bed as you heard the door slam shut. You looked up, meeting Jotaros eyes while he crossed the room. Of course, he would not give in.

But in all honesty, you were glad he didn’t. After all, he wanted to talk and settle your argument. But you were angry and tired - not the best basis for a civilized discussion. You had a feeling that you would insult him in some of the worst ways and even if you were angry at him, you didn't want to insult him back. You wanted to talk about it in the morning - after you had calmed down - in peace and at eye level. Then again you would most likely leave immediately in the morning and it would be hard to talk on your journey. 

Not talking now would leave both of you with unnecessary emotional baggage and who knows what the next day would bring? You didn't want to lose him in battle and the last thing you said to him would be 'You should go'. You knew all that, but the fury inside your stomach prevented all rational thoughts. As he raised his arms to touch you, you flinched and pressed your eyes together. You didn't want him to touch you. Not now, not like this.

But the touch never came. Slowly you opened your eyes and looked at Jotaro. Strong purple arms had enveloped his torso, pulling him back, preventing him from touching you - at least as long as you didn’t want him to. Jotaro seemed just as perplexed as you were. Star Platinum had its user under control, and, although it needed only one command from Jotaro, Star pursed his lips and pressed him against his chest. The loud 'Ora' was a warning. Star did not want you to feel uncomfortable. It was almost sweet. 

Jotaro moved and Star disappeared. Jotaro had sent his stand away, back to an unknown universe, where stands disappeared when they were no longer needed. Jotaro knitted his eyebrows together and seemed to collect himself, still as perplexed as you were. But when he reached out for you again, Star reappeared. Jotaro was a big man, but Star was huge and towered over his user. It was a very unusual sight, but somehow you liked it.

Jotaro seemed discontent. But before he could send his stand away again, you raised your voice. "If you want to settle this, Star stays." You locked eyes with Jotaro to let him know that this was his only chance. Jotaro grumbled but Star didn’t disappear still holding his user in a tight embrace. It was Jotaro's silent approval and proof that this conversation was really important to him. If you felt more comfortable when Star Platinum was there, that was fine with Jotaro. He didn't like to be constrained but would endure almost anything for you - though he would never admit that. Star Platinum smiled happily, while Jotaro still looked gloomy.

Maybe it was the cocktail of emotions; anger mixed with love and disappointment. Maybe the fact that Jotaro’s stand stood up for you rather than he himself. Maybe the sight in front of you - Star Platinum holding Jotaro captive, grinning broadly, and looking at you with a loving gaze. You felt invincible as long as Star was on your side, and you still wanted to show Jotaro that you were no helpless woman and would never accept the way he treated you.

You crossed your arms over your chest and looked at Jotaro. "Fine. Talk then." Star flew over to you, positioning himself behind your back, embracing you with his strong arms. He gave you protection, security, the courage to talk to Jotaro - a conversation that was long overdue. He put his head on your shoulder and stared at Jotaro with a piercing gaze, feeling the emotional chaos in which his user was. Absentmindedly, you reached your hand up and stroked through Stars' hair. It was a strange feeling. Soft as velvet, cold as a pane, light as a feather. Star Platinum bent further forward, making it easier for you to play with his hair. The stand smiled contentedly and closed its eyes. As you put your hand on his cheek, he pressed himself against your warmth and hummed softly. Cute.

Jotaro's face was unreadable, lips pinched together, jaw set. It was really hard to understand him when he didn't want to be understood - sometimes you wished you could read his mind. Star hummed happily, a melodic sound. Dark and echoing. Unreal. "He is on my side, shows me how much he loves me," you said, voice calm, never lifting your gaze off Jotaro. Star still cuddled his cheek against your palm. "Unlike my boyfriend." The words were incisive, but Jotaro did not even flinch, remained silent. A wordless fight followed, you just stared at each other before he lowered his gaze. It was an almost submissive gesture that filled you with great satisfaction. But Jotaro remained silent, still not apologizing for his harsh words at dinner.

You felt anger bubbling up again. Did he really not care about this? "Jotaro, this is serious. I can't do this anymore. We agreed not to tell the others, but there's a difference between being dismissive and what you do." Star's arms wrapped around you more tightly, Jotaro's gaze filled with deep concern. "I know," he said quietly, passively. Which only made you angrier. He should say something, show emotion! "That's your answer, really? I won’t  let you walk all over me anymore, Jotaro! I know you love me, that does not give you the right to treat me like this. Your words hurt, whether you mean them or not.” Star Platinum pressed you closer to his chest and you could see Jotaro clenching his fists before he lowered his shoulders.

Barely audible he said your name before he lifted his gaze from the ground and looked into your eyes once more. "I'm sorry." You knew how hard this was for him. That's all you could expect from him. Jotaro was not made for long speeches, but when he apologized, he really meant it. You were not ready to forgive him so easily - you wanted more than a short apology - but as Star released you from his embrace and pressed gently against the small of your back, you took a step towards Jotaro. Then another. Jotaro made no move, turned into a pillar of salt, waiting for you to make the next move.

Sighing, you took Jotaro in your arms, pressed your cheek to his chest. "That was the last time you treated me like this in front of the others, actually, scratch that. That was the last time you treated me like this, ever. Okay?" Jotaro wrapped his arms around your waist, pulled you closer to him, enjoying your warmth, before he hummed approvingly. He was glad that you forgave him, but instead of saying his feelings out loud, he just pressed your body tightly against himself, not wanting to let go of you and just enjoying your proximity.

The relaxed mood was interrupted as Star pulled you both into a firm embrace and whirled you through the air as if you were weightless. His strength always managed to amaze you. Almost in shock you laughed, clung to Jotaro before Star put you both back on the ground.

The conversation had been necessary and although you were still disappointed about Jotaro's behaviour, you accepted his apology. Hopefully next time he would think before speaking. If there is one thing you learned from all this it’s that Star Platinum would move heaven and hell to make sure his user treated you well. Because Star loved you, after all, he was a part of Jotaro.

Chapter Text

To expect great gestures of affection from Jotaro was pointless. No matter how much he loved a person, he only showed his emotions in small dosages. Calm words during a conversation, worried looks after a fight, firm hugs when it was just the two of you. But while Jotaro tried to show his feelings as unobtrusively as possible, Star Platinum was much more open. He whirled you around after fights, pressing you to his chest when he was relieved that nothing happened to you; He talked to you excitedly, even though his only way to communicate was with the word 'ora' in different pitches; He brought you objects to show his affection and to see you smile. Star Platinum was adorable and the longer you and Jotaro were a couple, the more his affection became apparent.

Ever since the argument and the subsequent conversation between you and Jotaro, you've been toying with one specific thought - how much is Star Platinum willing to do for you?

As long as Jotaro allowed Star Platinum to roam on his free will, the stand could do anything. At least within a few meters of his user. So you tested different things over the next days. "Will you cuddle with me?" - "Can you give me my clothes? - "Star, will you wash my hair?" - "Will you rub my shoulders?” Admittedly, your attempts were conspicuous and Jotaro became suspicious. But you kept saying that you loved Star as much as you loved Jotaro and would like to spend time with him. After all, he was a part of Jotaro’s soul. Which was not even a lie. You came to the conclusion that Star Platinum would do anything for you as long as its user didn't tell him otherwise. This knowledge granted you an immense power. And you planned to use it.



The crusaders slept a few nights under the night sky, before finally booking into a hotel again. As the Crusaders' only woman, Mr. Joestar insisted that you always get a single room. Generous and incredibly convenient. Because a single room always meant a midnight visit from Jotaro after his room neighbour had fallen asleep. It was rare that the two of you could spend quality time together. So rare in fact, that you were less excited about the soft bed than the company of Jotaro. But this time you had a plan, and when there was the anticipated knock at the door, you had to suppress a grin. If you played your cards right, it could be a very interesting evening.

Wrapped in a nightgown, you opened the door and pulled Jotaro inside by his arm, before turning the key inside the lock and snuggling up to his chest. Jotaro hummed softly and embraced you as well. "I missed you," you said honestly and felt his hand sliding through your hair. "I missed you too." His words went down like honey. He gently pushed your chin up and stole a kiss before lifting you up and wrapping your legs around his waist. The movements were seasoned. One arm warped around the small of your back and the other under your bottom. You held onto his neck and crossed your feet behind his back. This was not the first time he visited your hotel room and definitely not the last. The way you moved, like a rehearsed dance only the two of you knew. 

While he carried you to bed, you exchanged deep, passionate kisses. But instead of throwing you into the sheets as usual, he laid you down gently. If you had to take a wild guess, you would assume that he still regretted his behaviour and therefore treated you a little more carefully. He laid down with you and stole a few more kisses while his hands caressed your sides, pushing your nightgown slowly up your thighs. His warmth radiated through the fabric and a pleased sigh escaped your lips. His kisses soothed your tense body. In every other night you would have let him continue, but not today. You still had other plans.

You pressed your hands against his chest and he released the kiss, tilting his head quizzically. "What?" Even though he sounded harsh, his look was affectionate. He would stop immediately if you felt uncomfortable. "I think with everything that happened recently you owe me." Jotaro raised one eyebrow. “Owe you what?” He did not contradict, you took that as a good sign. With your fingertip, you drew little stars on his chest. "I want to be on top today." His piercing turquoise eyes watched you for a while before he suddenly turned with you, so that he was on his back and you on top of him. Your grin widened. "So I can do anything today?" Jotaro looked aside and clicked his tongue in annoyance, but a slight treacherous blush spread across his cheeks.

Even though Jotaro looked like the typical dominant lover - which he could be - you occasionally overtook control in the bedroom. Every now and then Jotaro just needed to hear what he should do instead of giving the orders. Relinquishing control, relaxing, receiving compliments - that was good for him. From the moment he turned on his back, you noticed how his posture changed - he relaxed, his shoulders sank down slightly, the edge in his gaze became softer. 

Only now, with him lying under you, did you notice that he was wearing pajamas instead of his usual attire. Of course he didn't sleep in his uniform, but it was so unusual to see him in a different outfit that your gaze wandered for a while, taking in the little stars on the fabric. "Cute," you said, and Jotaro's cheeks turned even darker, but he growled. "Shut up." You shook your head with a grin and slowly began to unbutton his top and kiss the newly exposed skin. "I'm not making fun of you if that's what you think." You didn't get an answer, but a content hum as you pulled the top off his shoulders and let your hands rub across his chest.

You drew shapes with your fingertips on his skin before reaching his nipples. In small circles you circuited the buds and watched with satisfaction as they slowly rose under your touch. Jotaro's Adam's apple bobbed. "You are teasing. Again," said Jotaro, his deep voice vibrating in his chest, slightly annoyed without really complaining. "Yes, and I intend to take my time." Grinning, you lay down between his legs and licked slowly over one of the nipples while you continued to roll the other between thumb and forefinger. Jotaro's muscles twitched slightly, but as usual he held back with any sounds of pleasure. A pity. He sounded beautiful when he moaned your name. But he would do so in no time. You wanted to hear him sing under your touch. A symphony of moans and grunts, mixed with your name and praises. 

"Stop that," Jotaro grumbled as you gently licked his nipple, one arm put over his eyes. His request lacked the usual grit, so you knew that he didn't really want you to stop - besides, his cock was already twitching against your ass. Not completely hard yet but he was getting there. Still, for the small chance he really wanted you to stop, you did. You sat up, straddling his hips, moving your butt slowly against his erection. You grabbed the arm above his face with a gentle grip and pulled it to the side so you could met his eyes. His cheeks were red, he was embarrassed. Adorable. "Should I really stop?" He mumbled something but didn't give you a straight answer. Sighing, you lay on his chest and gave him a few short kisses on the lips. "If you won't answer me, I'll just do what I want. Would you prefer that?"

His cock throbbed noticeably and you had to suppress a laugh. Once he had made up his mind and was ready to give up control you could have a lot of fun with him. "Okay then. You surely would do me another favor, won't you?" Your lips moved across his neck before you started sucking his skin. He took his time answering, enjoying the way you left marks on his body like he belonged to you. Marks only you two knew of, far enough down his neck so he could hide them well the next day. "What would you like?" he finally asked and you licked provocatively over the slowly darkening hickeys. "Summon Star Platinum."

His chest stopped moving and you noticed in astonishment that he stopped breathing for a moment. When you looked up, he stared at you, eyebrows knitted together tightly. His lips started to move slowly, the question was well thought out. "Aren't I enough?" Your eyes widened, not expecting this reaction. "No, Jojo! Honey, no." You pressed yourself against him and kissed him on the cheek. "I want to try something new. I want to please you and - I'd love it if Star could join us. If that's okay with you?" It was strange to say it out loud, but without Jotaro's permission, nothing would happen. Besides, communication was the key to any good relationship, wasn’t it? It may be a bit difficult if the partner is Jotaro Kujo, but that was what you had to work with.

Jotaro didn't answer, looked for something in your eyes, and seemed to have found whatever it was because shortly afterward Star appeared beside the bed. Star Platinum looked around in confusion before his eyes fell on you and his user. The confused look immediately turned to joy and he hugged you, greeted you by pressing his face into your hair, and hummed contentedly. Laughing, you stroked the shoulder of the gentle giant before you said his name. Immediately Star leaned back and looked at you with big eyes, waiting for an instruction you were only too happy to instruct.

"Would you like to sit on the bed and give Jotaro a hug?" Star didn't even question your words, even though he tilted his head slightly to one side. But shortly after, he moved and pulled Jotaro with him as if his user weighed nothing. It was an amusing sight. Star Platinum with bent legs on the bed, his back leaning against the headboard. Jotaro between his strong thighs hugged like an oversized teddy bear. Jotaro's gaze was an amusing mixture of annoyed and curious. You could only guess what was going on in his head. But the ridiculousness of the situation made you laugh, which in return darkened Jotaro's mood.

He tried to free himself of Star’s hug, but his stand pressed him against his chest all the more. Star Platinum wanted to obey your order and you loved that. A lot. Still, he did not want to contradict his user and tried to calm Jotaro down by burying his face in his hair and pressing himself against his back, just like he had done with you a few minutes before. "Really?", Jotaro growled and let himself sink to Star’s chest, annoyed. His cock had grown flaccid again, but you would change that. Soon.

Instead of answering, you caught Jotaro's lips in a tender kiss that he did not return at first. But when you licked across his lower lip and silently asked for entrance, he opened his mouth and nudged yours with his tongue. You indulged in a wet kiss for some time, before he tried to lift his hands and reach for your neck, but Star held his arms in a tight embrace. Grinning, you leaned back and noticed how Jotaro tried to follow your lips but didn't get far. "Almost like bondage on a new level," you said, a grin stretching even wider over your face. Jotaro just cleared his throat and averted his eyes.

You crawled back between Jotaro's legs and caressed his chest. Fingers danced over scars and muscles before they followed the happy trail below the belly button slowly further down. While you touched him Jotaro tensed his belly, he knew what was to come and as your hand stopped at his waistband, he took a deep breath. "You look so good, Jojo. I can't get enough of you." He just clicked his tongue. "Keep going." He was impatient, you liked that. He was so much easier to tease that way. Smiling, you pulled his pants down his narrow hips and were promptly greeted by his cock, back to an erect state.

Briefly, you pressed your lips on his belly, slowly kissing further down, nibbling on his hip bone, and looking back up at him. Jotaro's gaze was fixed on you, his cheeks dusted red, but the corner of his mouth pulled down unsatisfied. Star prevented him from reaching into your hair with his hands and simply pushing you into the right place. Star's chin lay on Jotaro's shoulder and with big, curious eyes he followed your movements. His watchful gaze sent little shivers down your back. Although Star belonged to Jotaro, was part of him, it felt as if there was a third person in the room. 

With the flat of your tongue, you licked over the vein of Jotaro's cock. Slowly, moving from base up to his tip, where you placed a chaste kiss. His skin tasted salty and felt heavy on your tongue. No sooner did your lips separate from his tip than he thrusted his hips upwards, seeking contact again. Smiling, you lay back on your stomach and kissed his inner thighs instead, which he only acknowledged with a long, annoyed groan. "Stop teasing," he demanded, voice rough, but not yet broken. Instead of following his order, your tongue moved up his thighs before licking his balls. Jotaro gasped softly.

You smirked, lips twisting upwards mischievously. You looked up and met his lust-filled eyes, observed how his chest rose and fell under his quickened breaths. "I love it when you moan. Please do not hold back." Before he could parry with a sassy reply, you took his cock deep into your mouth. An answer never came, just a short gasp which he tried to suppress. Jotaro’s cock was long with a comfortable width - not so large that your jaw hurt, but large enough that you had to watch your teeth. You bounced your head up and down, brushing a few strands of hair from your face so you could look up again. Jotaro met your eyes and cursed, a soft and long-stretched: "Fuck."

Oh, how much you loved it when he slowly crumbled under your touch and expressed his lust loud and clear. You wanted to hear more of him, so you pushed his cock further down your mouth, choking slightly as he pressed against the ring in your throat. It was nearly impossible to take all of him In this position, but you would try anyway. He seemed to like it, his legs twitched slightly around your shoulders and he cursed again, followed by your name. There was no better sound than hearing him moan your name. But as he trusted his hips up, making you choke hard, you sat up. Coughing slightly, you glared at him angrily.

"You know you're not supposed to do this. It hurts," you complain half-heartedly. But when you noticed the lopsided grin on his lips, you were ready to fight back. "Oh, you think that's funny, huh?" You climbed off the bed and your gaze wandered from Jotaro to Star. "Can you hold Jotaro with only one hand?" Star Platinum, who had been watching you with curious eyes the whole time, answered with actions instead of words. Without any problems, he grabbed Jotaro's wrists in one hand before lifting the other, proudly presenting it to you. Smiling, you stretched out your hand to Star’s cheek and gently caressed his cold skin. "Thank you, Star."

With this you took Stars freehand and led it to Jotaro's crotch, placing his large palm on the erect member. You expected a confused reaction, but Star just grabbed it - as if he had done it many times before - and started pumping his user with experienced movements. Jotaro gasped and leaned back against Star's chest. Satisfied, you watched the two in front of you. Jotaro in the firm grip of Star, who spoiled his user with his hand. Star's gaze was thrilled, his smile broad, his teeth flashing under full lips. Jotaro was flushed, face dusted in dark red, his lips slightly parted while he tried to regulate his breathing.

You bit your lower lip and disrobed quickly. Both Jotaro and Star observed you with greedy eyes, watching you as you slowly dropped your nightdress to the ground, fabric piling around your feet. Only then did you bend forward and catch Star's lips in a gentle kiss. You had never kissed Star Platinum before. It was a strange feeling. His lips were soft and had the same shape as Jotaro's, but he was much colder to the touch. Besides, his movements were completely different from his user's. Inexperienced, was probably the right word. Inexperienced, but excited. Enthusiastic. When you broke the kiss, Star beamed at you and muttered various quiet 'oras'. It was sweet and you just had to smile back.

Jotaro had turned his head slightly and watched you and his stand kiss, his breath quickened. Star’s hand still pumped his fist over Jotaros cock, thumb flicking over the tip, spreading precum over heated skin. "He's doing a pretty good job, Jojo. I wonder why?" Jotaro avoided your gaze and decided to ignore your question. Without further ado, you reached into Jotaro's hair, pulled his head gently back to steal a heated kiss. Your tongue silently begged for entrance, licking his lower lip before he opened his mouth and let you in. While your tongue fought with his, you climbed on Jotaro's wide thighs and let your hands wander over his body.

In your eyes, he was perfect. Those broad shoulders, flat stomach, muscular arms, strong thighs. Exciting to touch. You released the kiss and put your chin on his shoulder, watching Star’s hand continued to rub Jotaro's cock. There was something so sinful, forbidden, about the situation - making it all the more interesting. Your fingers danced over Star's, before continuing to descend and then cupped Jotaro's balls. He moaned, but bit his lower lip to muffle any further noises.

"Your moaning is so beautiful. Don't hold back." But even you had suppressed a moan, the situation was just too arousing and you wanted more . "Star?" Immediately the stand looked at you, alert and loyal, like a well-trained dog. "Condom in the drawer." He understood and removed his big hand from Jotaro, which made him gasp with displeasure in return. "Oh don't worry. We will continue soon enough, Jojo." This time there was no pert answer on his side, instead, he lowered his gaze. A few moments later, Star held a condom out to you. His look was excited and you thanked him with a chaste kiss, which he returned enthusiastically.

But you could only half-heartedly focus on Star’s lips. Your core throbbed and you longed for release yourself. So you opened the foil and rolled the condom over Jotaro's erection. Shortly afterward your hip hovered over his and with one hand on his throbbing cock, you pushed down, enjoying the way your walls stretched around him. Moaning, you rolled your head back and braced yourself against his shoulders. "Hmm, you feel so good," you gasped softly and rocked your hips back and forth. This time he moaned louder, not holding back anymore. Finally.

Satisfied, you began to bounce on his hip, the muscles in your legs began to burn after only a few minutes, but the reward - the feeling of him sinking deep inside you again and again - was good enough for you to keep going. Jotaro gasped under your movements, but you focused on Star Platinum behind him. Star was still curiously looking over Jotaro's shoulder and holding him tightly in his embrace. You cooed at Star and reached a hand out toying with a few strands of his soft hair. Star leaned forward and closed his eyes, smiling. "So cute." Jotaro clicked his tongue, but when you pushed your hips downwards, his breath hitched in his throat.

Carefully you took Star’s hand and led it over your body, before placing it on your mound. "Could you touch me?" Your voice trembled - the way Jotaro filled you, hitting deep, rubbing your walls in all the right places - you just couldn’t control yourself. Stars cool palm was nothing compared to his fingers. When he touched your clitoris, the difference in temperature was so drastic that you hissed. Startled, Star pulled back his hand. "Hmm, no. Don't stop. Keep going." With a veiled look, you watched Star, who hesitantly started again. With curious movements, he rubbed your labia while you were still bouncing on Jotaro's cock.

"So good", you moaned and locked eyes with Jotaro once more. His lips were slightly parted, eyes dark. His cock twitched inside you and he thrusted his hips up, meeting your movements. You stroked through his hair and pressed his face against your chest. "Will you come soon? You feel so good inside me." He gasped against your skin before biting your left nipple. But you barely felt the slight pain when Star found your clitoris and started rolling it between two fingers. It was a breathtaking feeling. The way Jotaro stretched your walls, Star’s fingers playing with your clit, a hot mouth sucking on your breasts.

Moaning, you arched your back, pressed yourself against their touches. "Come with me," you demanded breathlessly and rolled your hips. Quick, sloppy movements, chasing your orgasm. Jotaro was the first to come. He suppressed his moans by pressing his face between your breasts. Yet you could clearly hear the way he groaned your name. He thrusted against you from below and that feeling mixed with Star Platinum's cold fingers, which still rubbed over your clitoris, was enough for you. The Orgasm was intense, your legs trembled while you rocked back and forth a few more times, before finally falling back into the mattress.

It took you a few seconds to catch your breath again. As you looked up, you had to suppress a loud laugh. Jotaro tried to free himself of Star Platinum’s embrace, but the stand still followed your command and kept his user in place. "You may let him go now, Star." Immediately Star pulled back his hands and Jotaro fell into bed next to you, grumbling. "A few seconds more and I had commanded him to let go of me." You just snuggled against Jotaro's chest. "Well, was it that bad? You liked it, didn't you?" you asked, your tone playful and slightly teasing. If he hadn't liked it, he would never allow Star Platinum free will till the end.

He just snorted in reply and pulled you into his arms. Tiredness seized you both. Before you fell asleep, you felt someone put the blanket over your naked bodies.

Chapter Text

The first time you noticed Jonathan showing interest in you, you couldn't believe your luck. He hadn't dated since his mysterious breakup with Erina. The two had been the university's dream couple and no one knew what kind of trouble had destroyed their paradise, but it was the major topic on campus for at least a few weeks. As far as you knew, the two had even been engaged. But less than a month after they officially broke up, he seemed to take interest in you.

In retrospect, you couldn't even remember your very first meeting. Probably some silly coincidence, a meet-cute as cheesy as in every other cheap novelette. It didn't matter, because in the end he asked you out on a date and it was perfect. The chemistry between you was perfect. Jonathan was perfect. He was courteous, polite, lovable, charming. He was the gentleman of every woman's dream. Each time you fantasized about your future, he was there and you could imagine a permanent relationship with him.

But the more time you spent with him, the more often you met Jonathan's adopted brother. The bad blood between them was as obvious as it would get. Whenever Jonathan talked about his brother, his eyes darkened. It was almost creepy to see Jonathan - a young adult who was otherwise the human manifestation of friendliness - fuming with anger. Time and time again he warned you that Dio was not to be trusted. That every word he said and every action he took was designed to benefit him.

But was he really as bad as Jonathan made him out to be? Dio was eccentric, without a doubt, but he was also polite. As a law student he always proved a charming eloquence paired with a sharp tongue if needed be. A skillset making it easy for him to always get exactly what he wanted. Dio was dangerous in a way you couldn't explain. Whenever he looked at you, his eyes almost hungry, you felt like a lamb on its way to the slaughter.

Maybe Jonathan was right, but not once had Dio treated you badly or done something that made you feel used for his benefit. On the contrary. The longer you knew them, the more obvious it became that they were fighting each other for your attention. It was flattering in some twisted way. But they hated each other's guts and more often than not you had to hear them fight. Why did they have to hate each other? It was exhausting.



Dates with Jonathan were perfect. Perfect in the way that he prepared and planned every second beforehand and not once deviated from his schedule. Jonathan managed to make you feel like the most important person in the world with only one slight smile. Every date was better than the last and he did everything possible for you to enjoy your time with him. And yet, at times, he seemed a little stiff. It was too perfect. In no situation did he manage to be less than the gentleman everyone thought he was. You would think that somewhere, deep inside, there was  a young adult who just wanted to spend time with a woman in other ways - but he never touched you. He only kissed you if he asked first and sex was a subject he avoided entirely, even when you brought it up.

Even now, when you were in his father's villa, sitting on a sofa and watching a romantic movie, with him cuddled up to your side, one arm wrapped around your shoulders. It was cute, but nothing more. Not exciting. You felt bad for thinking about the situation that way, while Jonathan quite literally did everything to ensure your wellbeing. Asking for more felt wrong and yet you were longing for his hands on your skin. Maybe he wasn’t sure if you were in a relationship or just dating. Jonathan seemed old-fashioned in that topic. Asking you out on dates, kissing in the pale moonlight, greeting you with colorful bouquets. You were sure he was gonna ask you to be his girlfriend soon enough, otherwise you would have asked him yourself by now.

Still. You should be allowed to touch him, right?

The film was boring you out of your mind and you slowly stroked his thighs up and down with your palm. For the first few minutes it was only warm touches that he accepted all too eagerly. But the more obtrusive your fingers became, the more jittery he got, before he suddenly jumped up and smiled at you broadly, lips quivering while he tried hard to maintain a happy masquerade. "How about some popcorn? I'll be right back!" With that, Jonathan literally fled into the kitchen and left you behind. Your shoulders sank down. It was okay if it was too soon for him, but could he at least talk to you about it?

Sighing, you put your head back and should stare up at the ceiling. Instead, you looked into the face of Dio Brando and had to suppress a scream. A startled ‘fuck’ escaped your lips and Dio’s grin widened before climbing elegantly over the back of the sofa and letting himself fall into the pillows next to you. An arm laid across your shoulders, just like Jonathan had a few seconds earlier. But Dio was so much closer. 

"I don't know how he can leave you alone like this. Especially after your insinuations." Dio talked about it so openly that you blushed with shame. "You saw that?" Dio laughed and turned his head towards you, piercing red eyes seemed to stare right to the bottom of your soul. "Darling, I know about everything that happens in this house." The arm around your shoulders moved and Dio put one hand on your cheek. "I would satisfy all your desires. He may treat you well, but I would give you so much more."

Your breath stopped. Never before had Dio expressed his interest so clearly. Before you could answer, he pushed you gently back until you lay on the cushion and he hovered over you. "I know what you're thinking. He's perfect, why doesn't he want me? Why doesn't he touch me?" Dio's breath brushed across your cheek as he bent over you and whispered against your ear. "But don’t worry about him. I am here. You only have to ask and I will fulfill  your hunger." His lips were so close, his breath fanning over your skin. For a few moments, you forgot for whom you were actually here for. Your gaze glided over his lips and you moved, face inching forward. But before you could seal his lips with yours, his weight disappeared off your body.

"Dio!" Jonathan's voice was tinged with a seething hatred that you would never have expected from him. And when you sat up, knees pushing against your chest, all you saw were two adult men lying on the floor. Jonathan saddled Dio's hips, shirt collar in one hand, the other clenched in a fist and raised up, ready to beat Dio’s face to a pulp. Shouldn't he be angry at you too? You hadn't told Dio to stop. But Jonathan's anger was entirely directed at his adopted brother. "Jojo!" you shouted in shock, and he looked up. "Stop it!" Jonathan lowered his clenched fist, but he still held onto Dio's collar. The disappointment in his gaze was devastating. You felt bad. 

"That's right, Jojo. Stop it,” Dio mocked, his lips curled to an arrogant snarl. "You heard the lady. Move. She wants me, not you." Were you leading them both on? You never had two men verbally, and obviously physically, fighting for you. Were you a bad person for enjoying this? "Dio. Stop.” Now both men looked at you, obviously confused. "What? You want to tell me, you are not interested in me?" Dio finally broke the silence and removed Jonathan's hand from his collar to sit up. As elegantly as possible, he got up from the floor and patted invisible dust off his clothes.

"But darling. Just moments ago you didn’t want to stop. And I was willing to give you everything you craved." Dio's voice was soft, velvety, sweet as honey. Completely different from the way he had spoken to Jonathan just seconds ago. Jonathan jumped to his feet and stared at Dio furiously. "You make her believe things. Just like you did with Erina! Why do you hate me, Dio? What did I do to deserve this?" Dio raised a hand to his chest in feigned indignation. "These are some harsh accusations, dear brother. I'm just giving the lady what she wants, which you obviously don't want to."

Confused, you looked back and forth between the siblings. Was that what happened between Jonathan and Erina? Had Dio interfered in their relationship? Did he flirt with you to get back at his brother or was he really interested in you? As flattering as being the center of their attention was, it was exhausting and confusing. Jonathan growled. "I can certainly give her everything she wants!" Dio laughed incisively and then looked at you. "Tell me, darling, can he?"

Your throat constricted under his watchful eye. You wanted to say, ‘Yes, Jonathan can give me anything,’ but it felt like a lie even before your lips could form the words. So you remained silent and lowered your eyes in shame. Dio laughed. "You're not ready for a woman, Jonathan." With that, Dio sat down next to you and pulled you onto his lap just to finally, finally, claim your lips.

He kissed so differently than Jonathan. Fervent, hard, greedy. His tongue asked for entrance immediately, his hands everywhere at once, leaving hot marks on your body. But before you could open your mouth, you were pulled back. Familiar lips pressed against yours and conquered your mouth in a softer kiss. Full of affection and devotion. Yet wilder than usual. A pair of hands lay on your cheeks, pulling you deeper into the kiss, another pair pressed on your hips and pulled you closer to the body below you. You gasped into the kiss, overwhelmed, and as Jonathan separated from you, you looked into his dark eyes. Your head was spinning. What just happened?

"I am surprised, brother. When did you grow a pair?" The amusement in Dio’s words was met with Jonathan staring daggers at him. But Dio just reached for your cheek and turned your face towards him. "Tell me, darling, which one of us do you want?" When he spoke to you, his voice lost all its snide and his fingers played tenderly with the soft hairs on your neck. His eyes held you captive and your throat was dry. How could you answer? Decide? Jonathan was the first man in a long time who treated you decently, he was charming and courteous. Dio was pure sexual attraction, danger and excitement.

Your hesitation caught the attention of both men and you reckoned that Jonathan would leave the second you didn't choose him. He was a man who believed in true love and purity but you couldn't give him that right now. So his next words surprised you even more. "I wanted our first time to be special. But if this is what you want, I'm going to give it to you. I can give you everything you want and I'll do it so much better than him." Toward the end, his voice was so low and husky that your whole body shivered with anticipation.

Dio laughed. "Better than me? Oh, I always liked a good challenge. It's just sad that this one won't be." What were you getting yourself into?



When you had lost your clothes, in which room you were and how you got there - all good questions. But you had no answers to any of them. You only knew that you were kneeling in bed, two half-naked men pressed against your chest and back. Jonathan was in front of you, his hands on your cheeks, drawing you in plenty of loving but deep kisses. Dio was kneeling behind you, his lips pressed between your shoulder blades, while one hand kneaded your left breast and the other moved between your legs, rubbing your naked sex with his palm.

You gasped in Jonathan's mouth and pressed your hips down against Dio's hand. "You are so wet for me, darling," he whispered in your ear, but Jonathan heard it and released the kiss. "For him? That's all for me, isn't it, dear?" Dirty talk was obviously new for him, his cheeks burning in a dark shade of red. Your eyes flitted across his bare chest and then down to his trousers as you heard the click of his belt buckle. The outline of his erection was clearly visible through the fabric of his jeans. Bigger than expected. But before you could react, Dio pressed himself against your backside. When had he taken off his trousers?

You turned your head and looked over your shoulder in Dio's face. His lips were twisted into a presumptuous grin. "Darling, I'm just so hard for you. That’s all for you." Jonathan huffed in annoyance, took your hand, and put it on his crotch. Now bare of any fabric. How did the two of them manage to undress so silently? His hot cock twitched under your fingers and you turned your head slowly forward again. "Can you feel how excited you make me? I am ready for you. Anything you want." You swallowed and Jonathan caught your lips in another loving kiss, but he moaned into your mouth as you began to massage his erection. This was a once-in-a-lifetime opportunity, you couldn't possibly pass it up and just let the two of them do all the work. 

You turned your head to the side to release the kiss and gasped into the room, "Condoms." The body heat on your back disappeared and Dio climbed over the bed to reach into the bedside cabinet drawer - so you wind up in his room - before he threw a small silver packet to Jonathan and then crawled back behind you. At least there were no complaints. "I hope it's not too big for you, Jojo," Dio sneered, and you just gave him a warning glance. "Less talking, more touching, Dio."

At once the red eyes were on you and his smirk softened. "How could I argue with that?" He quickly rolled the condom over his erection, then pulled you against his chest and bit gently in the soft skin between your shoulder and neck. Panting, you rolled your head back as he began to suck on the spot. You wondered how many hickes you could get in just one night. You watched Jonathan roll over the condom and then slide closer to you. He cupped your cheek in his palm and kissed your forehead. "How would you like us? I don't want to do anything you don't want to do."

"If I remember correctly, you didn't want to do anything with her." To hear Dio's voice so close to your ear, throaty and dark, it was exciting. But as you saw Jonathan staring at Dio with rage flaming in his eyes, you were quick to say, "Please. Jonathan. I’m fine with almost everything, just take me." You reached out for him and the rage vanished into thin air. He pulled you from Dio's arms and onto his hips. His erection pressed hard and heavy against your stomach. "If you don't like something, stop me immediately, okay?"

His cock and that of his adopted brother - whom, by the way, he hated like the plague - would soon be deep inside you. How could Jonathan be so sweet even in a situation like this? You smiled at him and kissed the tip of his nose. "I promise." With that, you raised your hips and let Jonathan slowly penetrate you. Inch by inch, his cock stretched your walls before your backside came to rest on his strong thighs.

"Fuck", you cursed softly and put your head on his shoulder. "You're so big." Jonathan's chest vibrated as he laughed softly, Dio just clicked his tongue in annoyance. "Darling, let me show you what's really big." Dio pressed himself against your back before a wet finger slipped between your asscheeks. You inhaled sharply as his finger pushed inside and he carefully prepared you. Where did he get the lube? To distract from the unpleasant stretch, Jonathan kisses you and his hands massage your hips.

"So good for me, so tight. You feel amazing. I can't wait to move. Just a little more." Jonathan whispers against your lips between kisses to keep you distracted. He panted but kept his hips still, waiting for Dio to continue. Only as Dio pushed a second finger inside and moved them around you moaned loudly. Jonathan alone was huge and filled you to an abnormal extent, but with Dio to join him - you would certainly be sore the next day.

"Can I, darling? Or do I need to prepare you a bit more?" Dio asked and continued to circle two fingers inside your second entrance, widening the muscle as much as possible without hurting you. You whimpered his name. "Please! I want to feel you already!" Dio laughed, pleased with your answer, and pressed his lips on your neck, then you felt him positioning himself behind you, holding onto your waist. Jonathan helped you raise your hips, trying to avoid pushing into you as much as possible. But just him being inside you was almost too much. But then Dio slowly pushed himself inside and you moaned shamelessly. 

He moved slow, giving you time to adjust to the new stretch. Every few seconds a bit more, until you felt two pressed against each other deep inside you. Only separated by a thin wall. "Fuck, fuck", you gasped breathlessly and clung to Jonathan's arms, pressing sharp fingernails into his tender flesh. He played with your hair, whispered words of comfort, while Dio pushed himself into you all the way. As Dio finally stopped, all three of you had to catch your breath.

You felt hot. The two giants encircling your body radiated an almost unbearable heat, burning you alive. Every little movement, every change of position, every twitch - every sensation was increased tenfold, leaving you gasping for air. It was Dio who moved first and grabbed your hip to slowly pull you towards him, rocking you back and forth. "Tell me how good it feels, darling." How could you deny his request? "I feel you both. How you're pressing against each other. It feels so good." Dio growled softly and bit your shoulder again, then kissed your neck up, and murmured in your ear. "Concentrate only on me."

Jonathan hugged you, pressed you against his chest and away from Dio. "You feel so good, tight and wet, only for me. We are perfect for each other." Jonathan kissed your forehead tenderly and began to thrust. He pushed in, as Dio drew back. You knew the two men were staring daggers at each other, but you could hardly care less while every part of your body was kissed, groped and bitten. Two sets of hands, two sets of lips. It was so much at once, they were everywhere. 

While one held your hips and lifted you up, the other massaged your breasts and played with your nipples. Jonathan's lips on yours, locked in a loving kiss that promised more. So much more. Love, affection, devotion. Dio's teeth in your shoulder before a wet tongue apologetically licked across the reddened skin. He promised passion, lust, excitement. You wanted more. The two of them were like a drug that cloaked your thoughts in a thick fog of raw want.

Two fingers played with your clitoris, but you couldn't tell whom they belonged to. You were trapped between heaven and hell, love and lust, Jonathan and Dio. While Jonathan whispered sweet words into your left ear, kept rocking his cock into your wet folds, and caressed your body with tender fingers, Dio whispered in your right ear, promised you to got to the ends of the world and back for you, while he thrusted into you from behind, his hands grabbing into the flesh of your ass. You felt the pull of their cocks against your walls, how they rubbed against each other, widening you to impossible lengths. You were never empty and the finger on your clitoris circled the perl with practiced precision. The force of their thrusts took your breath away and before you knew it, you screamed, orgasm washing over you without a warning.

You didn't know which name to call, so you chose none. Moaning, you pressed your hip down against the two, making it hard for them to keep moving - you wanted to feel them both deep inside you at the same time. Then you sagged backwards against Dio's chest and stared at Jonathan from half-lidded eyes. The two kept rocking their hips, but through your limp body, the movements were limited. 

Jonathan came next. He pressed his face between your breasts and moaned your name as he shot his load into the condom. His heavy body pressed you closer against Dio who in return just growled and pushed Jonathan onto his back. Shortly afterwards Dio pressed you down on Jonathan's chest and kneeled behind you. Jonathan embraced you while Dio mercilessly thrusted back inside to pursue his own orgasm.

You were overwhelmed, breathing was almost impossible and salvation came after a few minutes in the form of Dio's orgasm. With your name on his lips, he moaned and came before sagging against your back to catch his breath. Buried between two giants, still enjoying the tingling feel of your orgasm, you wondered what you must have done right to end up here. 

Dio rolled off you and pulled you to his chest, away from Jonathan, who immediately growled and pulled you back into his arms. The pleasant silence after your orgasm was interrupted by the annoying squabblers throwing childish insults at each other. You weren't so sure anymore if you had done right or wrong. Sooner or later you would have to choose one, or lose  both in the process. 

Chapter Text

Being a teenager was exhausting. The first contact with the opposite sex, excess hormones, the way to self-discovery peppered with all kinds of problems that would seem like trifles in the near future. But at that age, these problems were nerve-wracking obstacles so high that one was afraid they would never be able to overcome them.

Your obstacle was your own sexuality. Finding out that you were interested in your own sex was scary. It was abnormal, wasn't it? All you ever saw was a man and woman together, whether it was on TV or on the street or in magazines. It was hard to accept yourself, but it was a step in the right direction. Coming out to your family and friends after coming to terms with yourself was even harder. The idea of being rejected by those closest to you was dreadful.

But to find out that you were in love with your best friend since childhood? There was nothing worse. The gnawing thought in the back of your mind that if you confessed your feelings, you'd destroy everything. Ruining a perfectly healthy friendship for the mere possibility of an intimate relationship. It was selfish, wasn’t it? Not knowing what to do eats you up slowly and painfully from the inside.

You knew Jolyne for so long and it was painful to see her with Romeo. You just wanted her to be happy and were glad that she had found someone she loved. And yet - when she was in his arms, it felt as if your heart was trapped in a vice, slowly crushing the muscle under the unbearable pressure. You tried to convince yourself that he was not good enough for her, but at the same moment, you doubted your own worth.

Only after months of silently yearning and drowning in self-pity, you drunkenly confessed your feelings after you had one over the eight. A classic teenage drama followed. You kissed each other, the next weeks were uncomfortable as neither of you knew where to go from there and both sides were too afraid to talk. That was one of the obstacles you should regret as an adult. Why has it taken you so long to learn that people need to talk openly about their feelings?

A faint chuckle escaped your throat as you remembered your teenage life. Now - years later - you lay happily next to Jolyne in bed, looking at her calm face, still asleep. The usual two buns of her hair had been opened for the night, black hair with green strands lay wildly scattered across her pillow like a halo. Full lips were slightly open, her warm body nestled against your chest.

Sudden loud snoring from Jolyne made her turn in her sleep and release your arm, which she had pressed tightly against her body. You had to suppress a laugh, not wanting to wake her. But Jolyne pulled the blanket with her and exposed you to the cold air in the room. Naked, from the night before, you lay on the mattress and watched her shoulders slowly rise and fall. With gentle fingers you caressed her skin, wandering over her back, closing your eyes. Memories of the night before flooded your mind.

How she had pressed you onto the bed after you returned home - hardly enough time to take off your shoes. How she had kissed you, passionately and full of love. How her hands had moved over your body before she undressed you. Sex with Jolyne could develop in three different ways. Slowly and lovingly - you took your time during foreplay, exploring each other's bodies and exchanging deep kisses and sappy compliments. Wild and hard - lust had been pending-up for so long, that all you could do was jump each other's bones. Or silly with lots of laughter and very, very many embarrassing comments.

Without the blanket the cold slowly crept over your body, keeping you from enjoying a lazy morning in bed. You could just pull Jolyne to you and crawl under the blanket with her, but where was the fun in that? You immediately thought of twenty more interesting possibilities - but one stood out more than the others. Still naked, you climbed out of bed and neared the window, opening it. The cool morning air was sweeping inside, which was counterproductive at first, but in the long run, would turn out to be a lot more fun.

For a moment you stretched out the window and looked outside, eyes wandering over your garden. The walls of your house were surrounded with white trellis, covered in healthy red roses, ranking their way everywhere their tendrils would lead them. Everyone in the neighbourhood knew your house, always surrounded by a wonderful smell and a paradise of flowers and greenery in the summer. Plants had been your passion since childhood, there was hardly a spot in your home where nothing was blooming. This preference also expressed itself in your stand. You were able to control plants as you pleased. So the roses around your house were your pride and joy.

You made your way back to the bed and the sleeping Jolyne. Rose tendrils grew into the room, following your body with each step you took. The new shoots had no thorns yet, and as you stood beside the bed the tendrils wandered over Jolyne's sleeping form. Slowly they trailed around her legs, her arms. Soft touches without pressure, following your silent bidding. Yesterday it had been Jolyne who had tied you up with her stand. Today you would wake her with yours.

With a strong jerk, the tendrils pulled tight, forcing Jolyne's body into a star-shaped position - arms and legs stretched out towards the bedpost. Jolyne opened her eyes, ready to attack before she saw your gentle smile and relaxed her body. "Good morning," you said calmly, pulling aside the blanket that still covered her slim yet well-trained body. She was also still naked from last night and with a satisfied sigh, you let your eyes wander over her soft skin.

"No coffee to wake me up?" she replied, voice still scratchy from the sleep she had been torn out of. "What have I done to deserve this?" She underlined the question by pulling on the tendrils, which only grew further along her body. "Well, you remember yesterday? I want to return the favor. Also, you stole my blanket. Again." Jolyne laughed and the way she looked at you, a gaze full of adoration and a slight hint of mischief, filled your heart with joy. "I clearly deserve to be woken up without coffee."

Smiling, you climbed into bed with her and, tracing a single finger up her taut inner thighs, along her small hips, over her defined abs up to her breasts, circling a cute pink nipple. She gasped softly. "Would you rather have coffee? I can make some." You looked into her eyes, but you both knew her answer. "Later. Hopefully, this will wake me up just as much." Humming in agreement, you bent over to catch her lips with yours. 

As you shared the lazy kiss, you stroked her belly with the palm of your hand and the tendrils followed your fingers, wrapping themselves slowly around her breasts and drawing patterns over her skin. Jolyne gasped into the kiss and you leaned back slightly, looking deep into her eyes. "Sure you don't want coffee?" You smiled cheekily and she had to laugh. "Don't you dare stop now!" Grinning, you pressed your lips against hers once more and lay between her outstretched legs. While your fingers danced across her sides, the tendrils trailed around her nipples.

Jolyne gasped into your mouth and you felt her pull on the tendrils before she relaxed her muscles again. Slowly you kissed down her neck, leaving a few light hickeys, and couldn't resist caressing the one spot on her collarbone you knew she was ticklish. You knew her body, she knew yours and there was nothing better than to make her laugh. Hearing her happy sighs and your name from her lips. 

"Not there!" she laughed and tried to turn her upper body to the side to escape your merciless lips. Grinning, you looked up at her, put your chin to her chest. "Okay. Not there. Where then?" The blush on her cheeks was sweet and she murmured something under her breath. "I didn't quite catch that. Can you speak a bit louder?" Jolyne rolled her eyes, but the smile never faded. "Further down." You knew what she meant, she knew you knew, and yet - "Here?"

You kissed between her breasts, nibbled her skin, and moved your lips to her nipples, still surrounded by your tendrils. You licked over the erect buds and she gasped softly, arching her back slightly, pressing her front against yours. "Here?" You kissed the other breast and licked across the nipple. "Or here?" Jolyne seemed a little frustrated, but laughed when she said, "You're unbearable." You sat up with a smile but stroked her thighs, never breaking physical contact. "I guess you need to be more specific for me to understand."

If Jolyne could lift her hands, she would cover her eyes in embarrassment. "Further down." So you kept kissing down her belly, the tip of your tongue circled her navel before moving to her hip bones, where you bit down, marking her skin with your teeth. She rewarded you with another gasp, but when you looked up questioningly, she shook her head. "Further down." Without breaking eye contact, you licked further down, reaching her mound, only to skip her naked sex and kiss across her left inner thigh instead. She moaned in annoyance, muttering your name. "Tell me exactly where. I want to hear it, Jojo."

She took her time to answer, which you in turn used to gently explore her inner thighs. A mixture of sucking, kissing, and biting, first on the left, then the right leg. Meanwhile, your tendrils wandered over her skin, holding her to the mattress and continuing to wrap around her breasts. Jolyne moaned softly. "My pussy. Please. Eat my pussy." Satisfied, you grabbed her legs close to her crotch and pushed them further apart just to lay down in a comfortable position on your belly, your face right in front of her naked sex.

Her labia was glistening wet, without you touching her there before. Satisfied, you kissed her mound before slowly spreading her lips with your thumbs. Even these light touches made Jolyne tremble and she tried to squeeze your hands between her legs, only to be stopped by your tendrils, wrapping around her ankles and up her calves. "Let me pleasure you," you said close to her wet entrance, letting your breath roll over her pink lips. Her legs shook.

"Stop teasing!" You laughed and finally pressed your tongue to her entrance and licked once from bottom to top, only to end up with the tip of your tongue touching her clit. Jolyne moaned. You wanted to look up, see how her face twisted in pleasure, but with your head between her legs and her beautiful breasts in the way, eye contact was difficult to maintain. Well, all the more reason for you to focus on the task at hand, or rather, at tongue. Greedily you pushed your tongue between her folds, sometimes just teasing with the tip, other times pressing the whole flat of your tongue against her entrance. Sometimes slow, sometimes fast. Either pressing down hard or barely noticeable at all. Your thumbs rubbing against the pink skin as you spread her entrance further.

Every moan was music to your ears, proving to you that your touches were exactly what Jolyne wanted. You knew Jolyne was someone who took a long time to come orally, but you were willing to lie between her thighs for as long as you could, just to hear her wonderful moans. Every twitch of her muscles, every whimper of your name - it excited you. You kept licking with vigor before you moved your fingers up and carefully exposed her clit.

You sucked the delicate pearl between your lips and trembled slightly as your name rolled off Jolyne’s lips in a full-blown moan. With practice you circled her clit, only to drag your tongue over her entrance again, tasting her excitement. No matter how often you ate her out, you just couldn’t describe what her taste and smell reminded you of. But after so many years of relationship, the best word for it was ‘home’.

The longer you stimulated her, the louder she moaned and whimpered. In addition to your tongue on her clit, you pushed two fingers in her core and rubbed them purposefully over her walls. Jolyne was so wet and every stroke of your fingers filled the room with wet, indecent noises. Your entire chin and cheeks were soaked in her arousal and the knowledge that you were giving her that elation made you wet as well. When you finally found that one point in her, you felt her soft walls tightening around your fingers and her whole body shaking. Your name from her lips - moaned and full of passion - was the most beautiful sound in the world.

You didn’t know how long you spent between her legs and tasted paradise, but with your lips around her clitoris and your fingers deep in her core, you brought her to orgasm. Jolyne screamed out her lust and trembled under your touch. While she moaned and yanked against the tendrils, you were just happy to press your face between her legs as long as she kept screaming like that. You continued to lick her until the last wave of her orgasm twitched through her muscle before you slowly pressed yourself up on your forearms and grinned at her, face soaked in her juices.

"Awake?", you finally asked and Jolyne grinned back, even though she was still breathing heavily. She hummed approvingly, but then pulled weakly on the tendrils. "Awake yes. But you sure know how to exhaust me", she replied before asking, "can you untie me?” Without answering, the tendrils slowly grew back out of the window and you got up to close it. Before you could turn back, two arms wrapped around your waist.

Jolyne snuggled up against your back and laid her head on your shoulders. Her breath brushed over your cheek. "How can I repay you?" Oh, you could imagine some things, but you shook your head. "First of all, I need coffee." You felt your face begin to stick. "And a shower." Jolyne laughed and kissed your wet cheek. "What first?"

Good question. Both possibilities sounded nice. But to cuddle with her in the shower and see her on her knees? The coffee would have to wait - Jolyne's touches were more captivating than tendrils and threads could ever be.

Chapter Text

Trembling, Noriaki sat on his bed and tried to suppress his anger by breathing. Inhale, wait, exhale. Stay calm. The dark room was illuminated by three computer screens. A chat window on the smallest one went crazy, so many new messages flashed up, but the distance made it hard to see what his viewers were writing. Never - never! - had he had a rage quit during a stream. Noriaki was usually a quiet and friendly young man. The online community knew him as the streamer who always smiled, was friendly with his viewers, and only cursed rarely or not at all. He was almost child-friendly - if it weren't for some shooter-titles he played every now and then.

Over the years he had built up a small but loyal fan base. Almost one million followers to this date. An achievement he was proud of, even if it was - compared to more famous internet-personalities - a small fan base. His social media accounts had a lot of views, he regularly received fan mail, people even wrote funny stories about him - once, quite some time ago, he had read a fanfiction during one of his streams and had never been so ashamed in his entire life. People on the internet could be really weird. Noriaki had loved video games since he was just a little boy and never thought he could make money playing them. He majored in graphic design and earned his living by streaming and selling merchandise.

He couldn't imagine a better part-time job - in fact, he was thinking about taking up streaming as his main job after his graduation. But for almost three months everything was different. Time and time again this one player appeared in his matches. Sniper, he called himself. Noriaki snorted about the name - of course, he called himself Sniper. After all, that's exactly what he did. Stream Sniping. Like the stupid bastard, he was. Immediately Noriaki clenched his fists, suppressing the boiling rage. Don't get angry. Breath. Stay calm.

Noriaki was a good sport. At least he claimed to be. He had nothing to back this up, he was good at games and didn't lose often. But everything changed since Sniper appeared. No matter if Shooter, Beat 'em up, Survival, Strategy, or RPG. As soon as Noriaki entered a game in online mode and did not create a private server, Sniper found him. And Sniper was invincible. The first few times it had been amusing. The next few times Noriaki was just annoyed. Today - well, today, he had an outburst of rage. The otherwise so calm and friendly Tenmei screamed like a banshee, cussed and insulted Sniper with all he got in front of running cameras before he had paused the stream.

He looked at his computer again. The longer he waited to finally end the stream, the more unpleasant it would become. He had to apologize. Taking a deep breath he got up and sat down at his desk. Luckily he had had the glorious idea to switch off the Facecam during his rage quit. One last time he closed his eyes and calmed his breathing, then his thumb hovered over the record button. He could do it. He could. Not. Sighing, he wrote his farewell into the chat and ended the stream wordlessly. He didn't want to disappoint his fans, but it was too uncomfortable for him to come back in front of the camera after his outburst. Tomorrow was a new day.



‘Tomorrow’, as it turned out, was a horrible new day. He was woken by his dorm mate and best friend Jotaro Kujo. The quiet and grumpy giant - absolutely uninterested in video games - threw dirty laundry in his face as he opened the door to Noriaki's room. "You are oversleeping again. The first lectures will start soon," he said, before adding, "you should check your social media." Oversleeping didn't sound too bad right about now, but the moment Jotaro left the room, Noriaki was sitting upright in bed, understanding the meaning behind the last words. Oh no, no no no.

All at once, his fatigue was gone and he hurried to find his phone, checking the internet for news. The first thing he noticed was that he had gained almost fifty thousand new followers overnight. Next thing you know, his Twitter was full of memes. Tenmei’s head with a crosshair photoshopped on his forehead. Before and after pictures with a friendly smiling Tenmei and a Tenmei who was screaming. Tenmei who broke an old Nokia phone with his bare hands. Admittedly, most of them were really funny, but they were based on the fact that he had destroyed his friendly ‘boy next door’ image. All because of Sniper.

For several minutes he scrolled through long texts and discussions. People who insulted Sniper because he had pushed Tenmei too far. People who insulted Tenmei because he had said totally inappropriate things. The outburst of the quiet streamer was on everyone's lips and Noriaki didn't know how to handle the new attention. He had to apologize, but how? On the one hand, he regretted that he had insulted Sniper publicly, on the other hand, Noriaki had meant every single word exactly the way he said it.

Sighing, Noriaki climbed out of bed and was about to get dressed when he noticed a new message from another verified Twitter user in his inbox. Sniper. His breathing accelerated, Noriaki wanted to ignore it for a moment, but curiously he tapped on the message.

"Hey. Can we talk?”

No smileys, no judgment - no clue about Sniper’s thoughts. Noriaki wasn't sure if it was a good idea. But before he changed his mind, he was already typing his answer. 'Tonight. Eight o'clock? I'll send you my contact info later.'



Noriaki sat in front of his PC, headphones on, ready for whatever was awaiting him. The lectures had been terrible. A few fellow students had recognized him and he was actually addressed for his outburst of anger. Luckily Jotaro had been there and with his deadly gaze, he had stopped all those who had come too close. He hadn't officially commented on the situation yet, but he planned to do so after talking to Sniper. He didn't know how to properly apologise to the internet - he never thought he would need to -, but hopefully, his conversation with Sniper would give him the time to think about his words.

Noriaki waited for Sniper’s call on Discord. When Sniper's name appeared, Noriaki took a deep breath through his nose before answering the call. Nothing could have prepared him for the following. "Hello Tenmei," the voice said. Hesitant, calm. Sniper's microphone was high quality, no annoying static was to be heard. Sniper’s voice had a sad ring to it. For a moment it was quiet, Noriaki remained calm. "Are you there?" Sniper sounded female. Noriaki blinked in surprise, but then quickly replied: "Yes, I'm here. I'm sorry." It was an excuse for the late answer, nothing else.

That Sniper was a woman shouldn't have surprised Noriaki the way it did. But her skills had been so incredible that Noriaki had expected a man. Thinking about it in retrospect - that was a quiet sexist way of thinking. But he was doing it just now, wasn’t he? Just because Sniper sounded female didn't mean that they were. He really should stop jumping to conclusions.

But you were, in fact, female and Noriaki’s silence was making you nervous. You raised your voice again: "I want to apologize Tenmei. I know that I have terrorized you quite a bit in the last weeks. To be honest, I'm a big fan and just wanted to have a little fun. I should have stopped after the first few times. It was never my intention to make you this angry and I can totally understand your outburst. I promise I won't do it again and I hope you can forgive me."

Tenmei kept quiet, which only fueled your anxiety more. Any response would be appreciated. He might yell at you or insult you or hang up. Anything. But silence? "Did you write that down and just read it to me?" That startled you. Nervousness clawed at your guts as you stared at the page in your hand. "Um - maybe?" Tenmei laughed, loud and sincere. You joined in.



Admittedly, your motives had been more than just fun and giggles. But the rest of your apology has been sincere - you really were a huge fan of Tenmei and you never wanted to push it this far. But you had gained some followers through your actions as 'Sniper' and after you both had openly apologized and assured your fans that you made peace, everything turned back to normal. Well, not exactly normal, because Tenmei’s fans demanded you to join some of his streams over the next couple of weeks.

It was fun. Instead of showing up randomly in his online games and ruining his streams and gaming-experience, he invited you and you enjoyed streaming together. You became an unbeatable team and more often than not you joined his sessions. His fans seemed to love it and over the following months, you got fanart - though your face wasn't known and the imagination of some fans was really amusing -, your own hashtag and even a ship-name. You never thought that fanfiction would be written about you. But here you were, trying to avoid all these things as much as possible. Because one thing was for sure - having to see his fans ship you was awkward.

You liked Tenmei - Noriaki Kakyoin, as he had offered you to call him - and there wasn't a day when you didn't message each other. He had given you your private number and as it turned out, he attended a university not far from you. Your chat histories consisted of memes, selfies that you would only send to good friends, and deep conversations about all sorts of things. He had exactly your sense of humor, the things you told him seemed to really interest him and when he talked about himself you loved to listen. After a few weeks, you were absolutely in love. But seeing his fans ship you and at the same time not knowing whether he likes it or not is a devastating feeling.

So when he asked you if you wanted to come and visit him - 'Stream together, showing your face for the first time. I'm sure the viewers will love that' - you immediately agreed. Of course, you were nervous about showing your face on the internet, but how could you possibly say no to Noriaki? Barely two months after your first conversation on Discord you walked over his campus looking for the dormitories. Several times you had to ask for directions before you found the building and finally the right room.

But when you knocked and the door was opened, your heart doped into your guts. A huge, muscular Japanese man stood in front of you and his eyes roamed over your frame with an annoyed glint in his eyes. "Oh, I think I got the wrong room?" You looked at your phone, but the number was right. "I'm looking for Noriaki Kakyoin." The Japanese guy barely nodded and then called into the room behind him before just leaving you at the door without another word. A short time later, a red shock of hair appeared in the door frame. The cameras of his streams didn't do him justice, because Noriaki Kakyoin was stunningly beautiful. His warm and welcoming smile that made your heart leap for joy.

He said your name full of verve and asked you to come inside. You felt like the most important person in the world. How could he make you feel so good with just one smile? You followed him into the room and he showed you the shared flat - "Excuse the mess" -, introduced you to his quiet dorm mate Jotaro Kujo - "Don't worry, he doesn't hate you, he always looks like he wants to strangle you in your sleep" -, and led you into his room - "It's not much, but it's enough for me".

Time flew by. You admired his setup before you went to explore the campus and had coffee together. Even when the conversations fizzled out, the silence was never uncomfortable and most of the time short-lived. There was always something to talk about and you enjoyed his company so much that you completely lost the track of time. It was almost evening and you almost had to run back to the dormitories to be online for your stream on time. 

While he prepared the camera and microphones, you straightened your hair and got some snacks. You had no plan whatsoever for the stream, probably turning out more like a podcast where you played some games together and just talked over who-knows-what. Snacks and unhealthy drinks were perfect for something like that. You climbed into his bed and he handed you a controller before he asked if you were ready. As you nodded he started the camera and dropped himself on the bed next to you. 

"Hey! Welcome to my stream", Noriaki greeted the already present audience before he looked at you and smiled. "Although today you could say, our stream. Would you like to introduce yourself?" He threw you right in the deep end. Maybe you should've talked about a script, a plan, or whatever beforehand. You've done this sort of thing so many times before - just never with showing your face, sitting next to a beautiful man you were pining after - no need to be nervous about something like that. So why wouldn’t your heart stop beating so damn loud? "Hello! You may know me as Sniper. Nori and I have something special for you tonight. So - surprise?"

You laughed a bit nervously, but Noriaki just nudged your ribs with his elbow and smiled broadly. "Sniper and I had a wonderful day, we've been planning this meeting for a long time and hope you'll have fun with us tonight." As usual, Noriaki completely emerged in his role as Tenmei. The friendly and extroverted persona helped you relax. Sometime later you almost forgot you were streaming. It was just two friends gaming, talking about random things, and enjoying life at its fullest.



Around midnight - barely four hours after the start of the stream -, you were half asleep on the bed, your legs resting on Noriaki's thighs. You still had the controller in your hand, but your fingers were not really holding on anymore. The plastic was slowly slipping out of your grip. Noriaki himself had a tablet in his hand, reading the chat and answering questions, the game was long abandoned. Every now and then he laughed and gave an answer. His voice was so pleasant, almost soothing, and the longer you lay idly on the bed, the more you dozed off. Noriaki himself didn't notice you nodding off, but the audience started to draw his attention to you.

"Sniper's sleeping" - "She called him Nori all evening, that was so sweet" - "They're cuddling. Are they a couple?" - "Tenmei, you should tuck your girlfriend in!"

Only then he looked to the side and noticed your sleeping form. Relaxed, head pressed into his pillow, using one of his sweaters as a blanket. Noriaki smiled gently. "I think this is my cue. Thank you all for being there. Hope to see you next time!" With that, he got up and stopped the stream. For a moment he stood in front of the bed and thought about what he should do. But he shook his head and put a blanket over your shivering body before he left his room to sleep on the sofa.

The next day, memes would once again be circulating on the internet, rumours would spread like forest fires, new pictures and stories would be uploaded by creative fans. Everyone seemed to know that you were a couple. Everyone except you two. But that was about to change. After all, Tenmei found his stream partner Sniper as attractive as you found him.

Chapter Text

Caesar had always been an eloquent young man. He knew what words to say and when to say them to make all women swoon over him. But besides his talent to wrap young ladies around his finger, he was also a gifted fighter with his fists, like he had never done anything else in his life. Which, if you look back on your past, was actually the case for a very long time. Since you knew Caesar, he was on his own and when he wasn't fighting in the streets or committed other crimes, he had a girl in his arms and enjoyed his teenage-life to its fullest.

He was 10, his next birthday just a few weeks away when he came to your orphanage because the police picked him off the street after he won a fight against older teenagers. Well, not yours, but rather your parents' orphanage, where you worked in your free time after school. Whether you kept the smaller children busy, did the cooking, or just played the big sister - you loved the work at the orphanage. Of course, it could be exhausting and the children would fight every now and then but you loved it nevertheless. But Caesar was something else.



Screams from the living quarters lured you out of your parents' office. It wasn’t unusual for the boys to be loud if no supervision was near and they found a fun afternoon activity. Normally you wouldn’t chide them, but the screams were unusually loud and you were already annoyed, to begin with - you had a lot to learn for upcoming exams. But when you entered the hallway to the boy’s quarters, your eyes widened in shock. One child was lying on the floor, his nose bleeding, a second child was leaning on the wall and crying. Another was standing on his tiptoes, Caesar holding onto his collar. Before you could call out his name, he buried his fist several times in the stomach of the older orphan.

"Caesar!" He looked up when your panicked voice echoed through the hallway and let go of the boy's collar, fleeing to his room. What could have possessed him to be so aggressive? You call for your parents, who bolted into the room a few moments later. Fortunately, nothing serious had happened to the children, but someone had to talk to Caesar. This was unacceptable behaviour. Your father was not known for his sensitivity, so your mother took over the task. But after several attempts, she left Ceasar’s room without an answer. So you tried.

He sat on the bed, legs drawn to his chest, arms wrapped around his knees. Even for his young age, he was already tall. You sat down at the end of the bed and searched his gaze, but Caesar looked only stubbornly to the side. You had the feeling that every wrong question would lead to an outburst of anger, so you mulled over your words carefully. Your gaze fell on his knuckles. Red with blood, most likely not his own, but they still needed to be cleaned. "Caesar, may I look at your hands?" You lifted the small wash bag filled with gauze and antiseptic, hoping he would accept the gesture as a peace sign. "I just want to make sure you don't have any wounds." Caesar snorted in reply. "I don't."

In your mind you rolled your eyes - kids could be so stubborn. Even though he wasn't much younger than you. "Please?" Slowly, he raised his head and met your eyes. His sclera was reddened like he had been crying. As if he could read your thoughts, he looked away, but then he reached his hands your way. Following the silent invitation, you sat closer to him and cleaned his knuckles with a damp cloth and exposed small abrasions. Maybe they had been caused by him hitting the other children, maybe not. You were in no position to judge.

As you cleaned those little bleeding cracks, you talked softly. "I know it's hard growing up in a new environment, but you can't do something like today." With a cotton ball you applied a bit antiseptic, Caesar twitched slightly but otherwise remained silent. "No one wants to harm you. I don't care if you or the boys started it. But if you ever feel like hurting another child again, could you come to me first? Well, talk about it." On one of the larger wounds - still insignificantly small - you put a plaster on.

But Caesar did not answer, so you looked up and examined his face. "No matter what, you can always come and talk to me. Okay? If you want to, I won’t say anything to my parents." You didn't know if you could keep your promise, but you would try to. Not that Caesar seemed to care, he remained silent, and you stood up. Without another word you went to the door and as you left the room all you heard was a faint and almost imperceptible 'Thank you'.



He wouldn’t listen to your words for a very long time. He was aggressive and would constantly bump heads with other boys, but even at the young age of 10, he won every fight, even against older children. Looking back, you couldn't remember how many wounds you had to clean because of him - mostly on other children and not on Caesar himself. Most of the time he got away scot-free. But no matter how often you tried to have conversations with him, he never let you close enough to understand him. Rules were only there for him to break them.

It took almost two years before you learned about his past. He told you about his siblings. Another two years later, you found out the reason for his anger. How his father had left him and his siblings even though his mother had already died. As he turned 15, he was in the middle of puberty, and in a growth spurt, you were already working full time at your parents' orphanage. Meanwhile, he towered over you effortlessly and his interest in girls had increased. If he didn’t use his fist to win a fight, you saw him with the opposite sex. Sometimes you also received a few compliments.

But he was a minor. How could you take him seriously when he was something like a little brother to you?



Where had he come from? Had he jumped out the window of his room? Just a few moments ago, you had been talking to a boy your age outside the entrance of the orphanage - he had wanted to invite you to dinner - and the next moment Caesar had rammed his fist into his face and shouted at him. Not believing your eyes, you just stared at the boy who was straightening his clothes as if nothing had happened - as if he had not just made a young adult opt for flight. Literally. "What the hell was that?" Since you work with children, it was extremely rare for you to swear. Caesar noticed your outburst, obviously confused by your choice of words.

"What do you mean? I was defending you." You just looked at him in aghast. "Defended me from what? Caesar, we were just talking. You just attacked someone. Again. In front of me." He hesitated, mulling over his answer. "But he was flirting with you. I had to do something." His voice faltered towards the end and your eyes became soft. "Caesar. I know he was flirting. Did it ever occur to you that I might have wanted that?" The boy raised his eyebrows, looked at you in astonishment.

"But you deserve so much better. Your future husband needs to be able to fulfill your every wish. He couldn't give you that." Husband? You knew deep down Caesar meant well, yet you shook your head. "Caesar. Please let me decide that myself and if I catch you getting into a fight again-" Honestly, you didn't know what to threaten him with. He wasn't afraid of the police, he didn't care about the orphanage, he could get food somewhere else. You didn’t even know why he cared for you.

You dropped your shoulders. "You're so young, you'll ruin your life if you keep going like this. Just, please, don't disappoint me and be careful." He just pressed his lips into a thin line, not bothering with an answer.



The next few months Caesar really tried his best to stay out of trouble - he rarely got into fights, stole less, and never stayed out past curfew. Your words seemed to finally make a difference and you were proud to see him try his best. He focused his attention rather on girls instead of his career as a petty criminal. But shortly after his 16th birthday he disappeared, just vanished off the face of the earth. Never before had you been so worried about a child as you were about him in those few days.

You tried to talk to the police, but since he was commonly known as a troublemaker, no one seemed to care. With, ‘He'll find his way’, you were fobbed off. Thus, you were relieved when you entered your parents' office one morning and saw him sitting at their desk. A woman named Lisa-Lisa wanted to take him in - had taken him in for the last few weeks. Seldom had you seen Caesar so happy and you were glad he had found someone, but still wondered why he was so quick to trust that woman when it had taken him years to trust you. Caesar merely a young boy, maybe the woman had done something to him?

But your parents considered Lisa-Lisa as trustworthy and you trusted your parents' judgment. The parting from Caesar was difficult, over the years you had grown fond of him. It was always a strange feeling to say goodbye to a child you had seen grow up. But he promised to visit you regularly. And he should keep his promise.



You were supposed to meet for lunch. After all, several weeks had passed since you had last seen each other. But since Caesar was under Lisa-Lisa's care - to do whatever, he never really told you - he grew up surprisingly fast. His aggressions were apparently gone, he was more balanced and calmer. He seemed to be really in control of himself. Simply put, he developed into a true gentleman.

Besides, he had grown up, had obviously trained and built up his muscles. With his height, beautiful blond hair, and dazzling smile he made heads turn wherever he went and you had to admit, he was a fest for the eyes. The only problem was that he was not a man, but a boy. He was almost 18, but every time you looked at him, you thought of the child he once was. Admittedly, there was not much left of that child. Caesar had really changed a lot and yet - he was too young. That was why the meetings with him could be quite unpleasant.

You stood in front of the cafe where you wanted to meet, looked the street up and down in search of Caesar. He still had time, you were just a bit over-punctual. Then you saw him in the crowd and swallow dryly. He had dressed up nicely for your meeting. Just like the last few times. A light blue suit - which would have looked terrible on any other man - stretched across his broad shoulders. Underneath he wore a salmon-coloured shirt. He held a rose in his hand as he crossed the street and came to a halt before you. His smile was bright, making his eyes shine.

You had to hand it to him - he knew exactly how to make a woman's heart melt with just a simple smile. But as he handed you the rose, a soft, annoyed sigh escaped you. "Caesar. This is not a date. I've told you so many times already. I'm too old for you." His endeavours were flattering, really. But he was underage. "And yet here you are." You looked up at him, confused. Were you leading him on? Was it wrong to meet him though you cared so deeply for him?

You pressed your handbag harder against your chest. "I can't meet you anymore if you don't take my warnings seriously. Caesar. I care for you but you're just a child." The bright smile on his lips faded, the light in his eyes flickered slightly. But he shook his head and once again ignored your warning. "I'm not a child, I'm almost of age. Besides, you wouldn't be having this conversation with me if you had absolutely no interest in me." Slowly he leaned down towards you, put one hand on your cheek, and your whole body froze in panic. "What if I were older? Would you fall in love with me then?"

What was happening? As you felt his breath against your lips, you pushed against his chest, grabbed your handbag, and stormed down the street. You shouldn’t have let things get out of hand like this. He was important to you, but this was serious and he didn’t seem to understand that. You barely managed to take five steps before he grabbed your upper arm and spoke your name, calmly, pleading. "I'm sorry. It was just a joke. This isn't a date, I know. Can I still take you to dinner? As friends? Please." You sighed. He was dangerous but you just couldn't say no. Not with the way he begged.

“As friends.” So you entered the restaurant with him, mulling internally over the things he had said. Would you be interested in him if he was older? With a side glance, you looked at him, looked at his body, the friendly features, those shining eyes. He looked older than he was, he acted older. Quickly you shook your head. Those thoughts were wrong. Just friends, just friends.



The next meetings turned out great. He didn't bring you any presents, he didn't flirt anymore. Although he still paid you some compliments, you could talk to each other without him taking your hands and looking deeply into your eyes every few seconds. You had the feeling that he finally understood the situation he had put you in and started to see you as a friend rather than a woman he wanted to seduce. It was a nice feeling. Nevertheless, every time you saw that he was giving his attention to other women, a wave of jealousy hit you.

He looked at other women, gave them flowers, complimented them on their looks and appearance without being pushy. As if he had forgotten you in a heartbeat. He was charming and you hated yourself for being jealous. It was wrong to think that way and yet you missed his attention. Even if you never would have succumbed to the temptation, his flirting had never failed to boost your self-esteem.

But it became easier with time, your friendship grew and his 18th birthday passed without changing anything between you two. You were friends who met regularly, while he pursued other women. He told you about his relationships, but every time it was another girl. Merely a conquest. It shouldn't have bothered you the way it did. You did not regret that you had given him an ultimatum, it had been the right decision and yet you had to admit that deep down your feelings for him were growing stronger than ever.

He was old enough and yet it felt wrong to think about him in such a way. Was something wrong with you? He was no longer the little boy of the past and he never truly was your little brother. But he was a friend - a friend you had told quite clearly that you would never love him. So why was it so painful to see him with other women?



Unfortunately, you didn't get to visit him on his nineteenth birthday. The work at the orphanage had kept you busy and you had hardly a free minute to yourself. But barely two weeks later you were sitting together in a cafe. It had taken you some time to find a date when you both had time, but you tried not to let a month go by without seeing him at least once. Especially not when it was his birthday.

The cafe was well patronized, most of the tables were occupied. Nevertheless, you were seated at a nice table by the window. It was a beach cafe, the sea was only a few meters away. It was a hot day and even with air conditioning, you could feel the heat. A perfect day for swimming. So perfect that Caesar lost the thread of the conversation more than once, staring at beautiful women in tight bikinis passing the window. It shouldn't bother you and yet every time he stopped mid-sentence you had to swallow your anger. Instead, you stared at the cake you had ordered.

"Maybe we should go swimming," he said with a satisfied sigh as he watched a girl running to the water. "Enjoy the sun and the amazing weather." You clicked your tongue. "Don't you mean the girls?" Caesar slowly raised his gaze and scanned your face. With every second that passed, a bigger grin spread across his lips before he forced himself to smile softly and took your hand in his. "No need to be jealous. You are and always will be the most beautiful lady in Italy."

The problem with Caesar's words were that you couldn't tell how serious he was about them. He sounded honest, but you knew how he talked to girls his own age. It was exactly like this. Lie after lie passed his lips before he got the girl where he wanted her, only to never see her again afterward. No, that was - should - not be the problem. He was still Caesar, the little boy from back then. That was the problem, nothing else. You slowly pulled your hand back, but he wouldn’t let go. As if he could read your mind he said: "I mean every word. I know you think I'm too young and I lie as soon as I open my mouth, but from the beginning, it was always you."

This time you forced your hands back which he acknowledged with a disappointed sigh. For a moment there was an uncomfortable silence between you, then he said: "Can I ask you something?" You looked up from your plate and saw the look in Caesar's eyes. He smiled but it felt wrong. He was visibly sad. "Of course, always. What's wrong?" You folded your hands in your lap, out of his reach, but directed your full attention at him. "Do you still meet every child who no longer lives at the orphanage?"

His words hit you hard, for they entailed some other unspoken questions that you had never thought about. Or rather - never wanted to think about. No, you did not meet with other children after they left the orphanage, only if you happened to meet them on the street. This in turn raised the question of why you had been meeting with Caesar regularly for years. As you did not answer, he continued talking. "It bothers you that I look at other women and talk to them but at the same time you tell me that I am too young for you. You make it abundantly clear that I can never have you but at the same time you show me something entirely different."

He looked down for a moment and seemed to think about the words before he continued once more. "I understand why you said what you said back then. I was too young, I wasn't mature enough, you were in a position to protect me. It could have gotten you into serious trouble. But I'm not a child and you're not my guardian anymore. So when I say you're the most beautiful woman who ever walked under the Italian sun, I mean it." Never before had you seen such a serious look in his eyes. So honest but vulnerable at the same time. He just opened his heart to you and you held your breath.

"If you tell me today that I can never be anything more but your little brother, I won’t pursue you anymore. But this game you play with me, it's cruel." He stopped and stared in your eyes. Waiting. Was he expecting an answer? Right now, here? How could you tell him what you were thinking when you couldn't even order your thoughts yourself?

"I know that you are no longer a child and I don't see my little brother in you either. You have grown up. I'm not naive enough to overlook that. I care about you, Caesar. Maybe more than I can admit to myself right now." Hope blossomed in his gaze, but you averted his eyes and looked at the tabletop instead. "I may be a little jealous, yes, but I don't know what I feel right now. I can't answer your question. Not today." Perhaps this answer was also cruel, again it was neither a yes nor a no, but it seemed to be enough for Caesar.

He knelt down beside your chair and looked up at you, took both your hands in his. Big warm fingers surrounded your tender skin, his thumb stroked the back of your hand. "It's enough for me to know that I have a chance." He smiled dreamily. "As long as you see me as a man, I have a chance to win your heart. I'll fight for you and you'll fall for me."

Your heart was beating faster. He seemed so confident that it put a smile on your face. There was really nothing left of the little boy from back then. It would probably feel strange for a while yet you had the feeling that he would make his words come true very soon.

Chapter Text

Some say one will reach the prime of their life in their twenties. Old enough to do anything they want, yet young enough to pursue their dreams with youthful energy. Normally you would agree. You were young, yet more mature than any teenager could be. But next to doctor Jotaro Kujo you felt inexperienced and almost like a child. Under his watchful gaze you became nervous, made rookie mistakes that would not happen to you otherwise and his dismissive manner didn't help in the slightest to calm your raging anxiety. Admittedly, you hadn't been an employee at the SPW for very long, this was your first big mission and you would never be here if Kakyoin hadn't put in a good word for you.

Kakyoin had been your person of contact during your first months as an employee at SPW. Whatever question you had, he was there for you and he became a good friend you could always ask for help, even outside of work. Kakyoin was probably the only person at SPW who had a personal relationship with the otherwise unapproachable Dr. Kujo. Apparently, they shared some parts of their childhood on an adventure which wielded them closer together as friends - now they worked as a team in the SPW and hunted dangerous stand users down. However, Kakyoin never told you what exactly happened back then. Only that they had experienced a lot. That's why Kakyoin had scars over his eyes and an artificial backbone.

And it was exactly this backbone that was the cause for you being Jotaro's partner for the following mission. Kakyoin had been in a lot of pain and was under medical supervision for the time being while Jotaro had to continue working. So Kakyoin had suggested you to replace him for a while. You - a bloody rookie who had only recently learned about the existence of Stands - on a mission with Jotaro Kujo. A grown man who always had everything under control. A man with a doctorate, father of a daughter about your age, user of the strongest stand known to SPW. If you had no self-doubts before, you had them after comparing yourself to him.

But Kakyoin had assured you that Jotaro was not as unpleasant as he seemed to be. Apparently he was an ‘asshole’ during his teenage years, now he was ‘slightly less so’ and ‘as long as you didn't get on his nerves’, you could ‘work well with him’. So it was partly Kakyoin's fault that you were hundreds of miles away from home, traveling the world with a man almost twenty years your senior, looking for a stand user you knew next to nothing about. For almost three weeks you had been staying in different hotels, following a lead you were almost sure wouldn’t bring you closer to your target. But you kept your doubts to yourself, feeling like Jotaro would hate it if you criticized his methods. Not that you had a better lead than him.



The trail had led you to a small town somewhere in the middle of nowhere. While he asked around in the city, you had already booked rooms in a shabby hotel. Well, actually a room. Not because there were no other rooms available, but because you didn't feel like tiptoeing around him anymore. Jotaro Kujo was, unfortunately you couldn't think of a better word, breathtaking. With every day you were on the mission together, something had developed between you that you couldn't really describe. He was older than you, could almost be your father - was already a father - and yet you wanted nothing more than to push him onto the next surface and climb him like a tree. Or he could press you into bed, face in the sheets and use you anyway he wanted to. Either way. You wanted him.

Sighing, you took the key to your room and waited for Jotaro in the lobby. Maybe you just interpret too much into his long looks and ambiguous remarks. Perhaps it was just your imagination that got the best of you. After all, Jotaro didn’t mince matters. He would tell you directly if he wanted you. Wouldn't he? Still, you had the feeling that this desire was mutual. Maybe you should just ask him about it and not just pretend that there was only one room left - but to ask Jotaro Kujo if he has sexual interest in you? You may be confident, but you wouldn’t dare to do that. He simply had this charisma, this cold gaze, this authority.

Although you got to know him better in the last few weeks, he was still one giant mystery. On one hand he looked like he could strangle you with his bare hands at any time, on the other he had a picture of Baby-Jolyne in his wallet and helped older ladies across the street. His attitude at work promised professionalism and seriousness, but one night you were playing cards and he had used Star Platinum to distract you in order to win. He usually didn't talk much and scolded you if you asked too many questions, but if a topic catched his interest, you could have a pleasant conversation.

In short - Jotaro Kujo was bad at socializing but as long as you didn't annoy him or push him out of his comfort zone, you could work and even have private conversations with him. Somewhat. Though he still wouldn’t talk about his teenage-years. Whatever had happened to him, it had been bad. 

You heard your name and looked up. Jotaro stood right in front of you and stared you down. Had you been so absorbed in your thoughts that you haven't seen him approach you? Jotaro was huge, overlooking him was almost impossible. "Do you have our room keys?" There was no turning back now. You swallowed, then raised the key in your hand. "They only had one room left," you lied, but as he narrowed his, you quickly added, "Don't worry, there are two beds.” Jotaro looked back and forth between you and the reception desk, for a second panic rose in you. He would ask questions, he would see through your lie and would break your neck. Instead, he took his suitcase and went to the elevator. Relieved, you took a deep breath before you followed him.



He told you about a new lead he discovered while asking random people in town, you nodded and hummed in agreement, without really listening to what he was talking about. While you sat on your bed, you could watch him as he pushed his jacket off his shoulders and pulled the white top over his head. He was getting ready for the shower - had said something about it being a warm day - and seemed to have no problem undressing in front of you. He stood with his back to you, his muscle drawing your gaze to him like a moth to a flame. The way his shoulder blades pushed together as he pulled his top off, how his sides stretched when he raised his arms.

Then you saw his stomach and a nice set of well-defined abs. How could he still be so fit at his age? How old was he anyway? In his late thirties? Early forty? Wait. Just moments before you had stared at his broad back, hadn’t you? You raised your eyes and met Jotaro's penetrating gaze. He knew you had been staring, but instead of telling you off, his lips were twisted into a barely noticeable grin. Oh God, he was grinning. "Did you even listen to what I said?" he asked and slowly unbuckled his belts. Was he really about to undress completely in front of you? You had to force your eyes to look at his face and not follow the click of his belt buckle.

"Sorry. As you said, it's a warm day. I'm a little off my game." The excuse was good, you even said it without stuttering. That was good. Good. His belt fell to the ground with a dull clunk and your gaze followed. Not good. You felt the blood rush into your cheeks, but otherwise remained calm. Don’t stare at his briefs, look elsewhere. That is indeed a nice woodchip wallpaper. "I hate to repeat myself. So we should probably talk tomorrow." He went to the bathroom and you stared at his back. He did not turn around, but you were sure he could feel your gaze. "Maybe you should come take a shower, too." With that he disappeared in the bathroom and you let yourself fall on the bed to stare at the ceiling, completely overwhelmed.

You brought this on yourself. But who could have expected that Jotaro Kujo would have no problem doing half a striptease right in front of you. Tease was the right word for him. He knew exactly what he was doing, right? It was so hard to judge him and his insinuations were driving you mad. He should just say what he wants. Say that he wanted sex or at least that you should stop staring? Then you'd finally know what to do. Instead, he said you should 'come take a shower, too'. Your entire body froze in realization. He didn't say you should take a shower. He told you to come take a shower. Did he really mean - no. You misunderstood that, didn't you? But Jotaro always chose his words carefully.

And there was your inner dilemma again. He hinted at something and you hesitated because you didn't really know if he had made a hint at all. Though, you had booked this room so you could act on this lurking desire. What was the worst thing that could happen? Well, he could break your neck with Star Platinum and make it look like an accident. But he could also react positively. As soon as you heard the sound of the shower, you made your decision. You undressed and went to the door. Even if this should end badly, you wouldn’t be Jotaro’s partner for much longer, the office at SPW was waiting for you after this mission. Or a grave, depends on Jotaro’s reaction.

Taking a deep breath one last time, you pushed the door to the bathroom open and saw Jotaro standing in the shower. The glass was mostly see through and you had the perfect view of his body. He had put his head in the neck and water was running over his face, eyes closed. Never before had you seen a man with so many muscles. Even his butt was well formed. Unfortunately he had bent his leg slightly, blocking your view to more intimate areas.

No sooner had you opened the door than he turned his head slowly in your direction. Had he been startled, he would have reacted faster. This was almost as if he had expected you. He opened his eyes, looked at your naked body, shamelessly moving his gaze once from your head to toes. Before he could say anything, you opened the shower and pressed yourself against his back so you could close the door again.

The silence was unnerving, but Jotaro just took the shower gel and began to wash his arms as if you were not standing naked behind him, pressing your breasts into his back. At least Star Platinum hadn't bashed your head in yet, that was a good sign, right? Instead of talking, you let your fingers run over his arms, collecting some soap in your palms, and starting to rub his back. Fingers circled across his neck, down over his shoulder blades, till you reached the small of his back and massaged his tense muscles with strong circular movements of the palms of your hands. An almost imperceptible sigh escaped Jotaro's lips.

But as you tried to massage further down - taking his ass in your hands - he turned to you and slowly pushed you against the cold, tiled wall. "Took you long enough." Before you could reply, he grabbed your ass and pulled you up with a strong jerk. On instinct, you wrap your legs around his waist. It was a strange thing to feel your naked sex press against his, feeling his soft member pressed against your entrance. His size was anything but disappointing. Your thoughts were suddenly interrupted by a pair of lips pressing against yours.

It was not a gentle kiss. All the pent-up emotions of the past weeks were released at once. You could feel his dissatisfaction, the suppressed anger about the fact that you hadn’t found the stand user yet. But at the same time you felt his lust, the desire for more. He rolled his hip forward and elicited a slight gasp from you. Greedily you pressed your tongue into his mouth and reached into his hair to pull him closer to your lips. None of this was romantic and you were pretty sure that after your mission, you would never talk about this again. But right at his moment you couldn’t care less about the future, not with his tongue pressing against yours, licking into your mouth.

As you feverishly returned his kiss, you rolled your hip against his, pushed your ass forward and felt his length rubbing pleasantly between your legs. His cock growing, pressing against your entrance, twitching against sensitive skin. He gasped into your mouth, the hands on your ass gripped harder, fingers pressed into your flesh. With strong arms he pulled your hips against his, the friction of your bodies minimized by the water. Still, his warmth, his hands, his lips - everything felt so good.

Your hands moved across his chest, playing with the wet hair there before you gently bit in his lower lip. He pulled back, hissing slightly, and you watched in amazement as his tongue slipped out between his lips to lick across the maltreated area. "Do you have condoms?" you asked without hesitation and let your hands move further down, rubbing over his belly and then over the protruding hip bones. "In the room. But I am sterilized. And clean."

You hesitate. Without a condom? He didn't seem like the kind of guy who'd lie about something like this, and yet you weren't sure. Jotaro noticed your hesitation, pulled you securely into his arms, starting to carry you out of the shower. But before he could move, you gave him another kiss. A hard grip in his hair, demanding his lips back on yours. Surprised, he pushed you back against the wall and you hissed as your back touched the cold tiles.

You shouldn’t believe him, but you did anyway. The fact that he would have left the shower with you just to get the condoms helped you make up your mind. You didn’t want him to stop. Hopefully, he had told the truth. "Don't stop now." For a moment his turquoise eyes looked deep into yours, searching for any doubt, doubt he could not find. You pulled on his wet hair, bringing him to lean his head back, and exposing his neck. "You don’t know what to do, old man? I can show you." With this you licked slowly over his Adam's apple before you sank your teeth into his skin, rolling your hip against his.

A surprised gasp escaped Jotaro's lips, but without wasting any more time he lifted your legs a little further, pressing his now fully erect cock against your entrance. "First you get into the shower. Unasked. Now you call me old." He clicked his tongue, but before you could say anything, he pushed inside, bringing you to gasp for air. You had felt that he was big, but nothing had prepared you for the way he stretched your walls. The way he filled you, widened you, took your breath away.

Moaning, you closed your eyes, the back of your head slumped against the cold wall behind you. A soft curse escaped your throat and you concentrated on the feeling. Jotaro filled you inch for inch, pushing himself further inside until he bottomed out. For a few seconds he remained in that position, chest squeezed against yours, before he pulled almost all the way out, just to settle for a slow pace. With each thrust the movements became easier, you wrapped your arms around his neck and pulled him in for another kiss. His kisses were addicting, but you could barely focus on the tongue in your mouth while his cock filled you so deliciously to the brim.

You drowned in a mix of sensations. Cold tiles in your back; lush lips pressed against yours; tingling water all over your skin; callused fingers grabbing your butt; the smell of fruity shower gel; Jotaro's cock deep inside of you. You moaned into his mouth, tried to roll your hips against his, but in this position, you couldn’t fully meet his thrusts. Instead, you caressed his neck with your hands, playing with the wet curls there before you scratched your fingernails over his shoulders and elicited a few low moans from him - muffled by your lips.

Without warning, he let you down and as soon as your feet touched the ground, he turned your body with your back towards him. Surprised, you pressed your hands against the cold tiles to avoid losing your balance. As you moved, he slipped out of you, grabbed your shoulders, and bent your upper body forward. Warm water splashed on your back, but before you could ask what he was up to, he pulled your hip against his and pushed back home. "Fuck", you both gasped in unison. He was overwhelmed by your velvety soft pussy, the twitching of your walls. You from the feeling of him stretching you to the max, only to set a rough pace, rutting mercilessly inside.

A loud moaning escaped your lips and you tried to claw at the smooth tiles, but your fingers only slipped helplessly over the wall. At least your feet didn’t slip, which rather surprised you with the hard pace Jotaro had set. Beside the pattering of the shower, you could only hear your moans and the wet slapping of skin on skin. Jotaro's fingers sank into your skin - leaving dark marks in the process -, and pulled you against his thrust over and over.

In the new position, his glans rubbed against all the right places. A hand pressed under your chin and pulled you towards him. You felt Jotaro's chest press against your back before he pressed his lips once more against yours, stealing another kiss. His lips could barely muffle your moans, his hard thrusts only getting rougher. Everything turned black, as his other hand moved between your legs and rubbed your sensitive clitoris.

You moaned his name, but your kiss silenced the word. Hot waves of pleasure shot through your limbs and you were glad for his arms around your body. He supported your weight while you could hardly feel your legs. Your arms trembled as you pushed your hands against the tiled wall and he continued to thrust his hips. His lips moved from your mouth over your cheek to your neck. Goosebumps spreading over your skin. Then his thrusts stopped and you could feel his cock twitched deep inside of you. Jotaro moaned directly into your ear as he came, filling your pussy with his hot cum, pressing his hips flush against your butt before he slowly pulled himself out.

Breathing heavily, you continued to lean the wall, feeling his sperm slowly run down your legs, only to be washed away by the water. As Jotaro pulled you to his chest, you raised your head. He, too, seemed exhausted, cheeks slightly reddened, eyes veiled by lust. You hardly reacted as his hand moved between your legs and he removed his cum from you with a washcloth, before he cleaned himself.

Although it was quiet, it was not unpleasant. On the contrary. You were used to this quiet side of him, and the satisfied, barely noticeable smile on his lips helped you calm down. Only when he turned off the shower and stopped the water did you raise your voice: "Are you always this quiet during sex?” You scolded yourself mentally for the stupid question. You should have said something nice, instead, you just teased him again. You expected his usual catchphrase, but he just rolled his eyes and got out of the shower to dry off.

Without further ado, you followed him and did the same. "You know, I hate people who lie to get what they want. But I should have expected that from a woman your age." Lied? Wait just a minute. Lied? What? He looked at you over his broad shoulders, the hint of a smile on his lips. "There were a lot of people checking in at the lobby, considering that no room was available." Oh. Fuck.

Chapter Text

As you saw a warm ruby-red light illuminating the stables near the castle, a few possible explanations ran through your mind. A maid spending a sinful night with the stable boy. Thieves trying to steal the king's expensive pureblooded horses. Even a beggar, just looking for a safe place to stay the night. You had a vivid imagination, but nothing could have prepared you for the true reason. You hadn’t expected the court magician and one of the best swordsmen of the royal family. But when you looked through one of the stables' windows, you involuntarily became a witness of a sinful scene, making you blush in shame.

The stable was illuminated by a magical flame hovering weightlessly in the air. An almost romantic twilight, immersed in flickering red light. Two men lay in a haystack, bodies united in shameless lust. Jean-Pierre Polnareff, one of the best knights of the court, swordsmanship tutor for the young Joestars, the honorable victor of countless battles, lay on his back. The long silver hair - otherwise always tied together in a ponytail -, fell wildly around his head, spiked with straws. Muhammad Avdol, one of your closest confidants, a man of science and magic, one of the king's most important advisers, hovered over him. His robe, usually so neatly tied, was loosely hanging from his shoulders, exposing his broad back covered with deep scratches caused by sharp fingernails.

Orange fabric covered the lower bodies of the two men, but their movements immediately revealed what they were doing. And if the movements and moans did not indicate the lustful act, the loving kisses the two exchanged were enough to cause panic bubbling up inside your stomach. What the two did was forbidden and you were obliged to report it. But your feet denied your silent order. So you just stood there, watching two men drown deeper and deeper into lust.

From childhood on you were taught that this was wrong. That it was against nature, against the Gods. But now that you saw it, the affection in the eyes of the men, the loving words that poured from their lips like an undying fountain, the gentle touches. The only wrong thing about the situation was that you watched them. And maybe that they loved each other so brazenly in a rather public place. But the love itself? Why should love ever be wrong?

It took a loud moaning from Polnareff, followed by a deep rumbling from Muhammad, to tore you out of your thought and gave you the strength to flee. You were not able to find any sleep that night.



As the gouvernante for the Joestar descendants, you often talked to Muhammad about upcoming lessons. He was an intelligent and well-spoken man, and if he did not know the answer to a specific question, he would read and read about the topic until he could answer that question and every other that could follow. Muhammad was attentive and therefore it was no surprise that he quickly noticed your changed behavior. You avoided his gaze, always found an excuse to avoid conversations with him and fled from him when you met him in the corridor. But when he asked you about it, you just blushed and stuttered something like 'I'm not behaving any differently'.

He didn't believe a word you said, but he could put two and two together. The timing you started to ignore him was just too obvious. But if you had seen him with another man, he would already rot in shackles down in the dungeons. Wouldn't he? Surely you would have reported him and Jean-Pierre. Though this was the only imaginable solution to his dilemma. But no matter how many theories he concocted, without a clear answer from you, he would never know the truth. So he had to find another way to get his answer.



No sooner had you left the room - the lesson with the Joestar children was finally over -, than a warm hand lay on your back and pushed you gently towards the yard. Muhammad left you no choice, he knew that you had nothing else to do and asked you to accompany him. "Please let us talk," he said as he led you through the garden. You could not look him in the eyes, but you listened to him anyway. "I know that something bothers you. I'm just not sure what it could be." You didn't answer, instead, you stared at a very interesting rose bush.

"So I'll just ask you directly and with all due respect. Did you perhaps witness me in a precarious situation?" Your breath faltered and you only lifted your gaze slowly, meeting his dark eyes for the first time after a couple of weeks. He knew that you had seen him. And yet, there was no contempt, no panic in his gaze. Rather, he looked at you with deep disappointment. He was disappointed that you - one of his best friends - ignored him. But for you, his disappointment was a sign of distrust, because you didn’t leave the second you saw what they did, that you had continued to watch him like a creep. You wanted to explain yourself, wanted him to stop looking at you like that. You wanted him to forgive you.

"I'm sorry, I shouldn't have watched you two! I saw the light and just wanted to check if everything was okay. But then I saw you with - with him. I shouldn’t have. But I did. I know it was wrong. You shared an intimate moment and I did not leave. I don't know why. Please forgive me." After your apology, you raised your eyes and Muhammad looked at you in shock. Never before had you seen him so surprised, almost stunned. "You didn't report us?" You shook your head hesitantly. For a moment uncomfortable silence hangs over you like a blanket, but then Muhammad broke out into loud laughter.

"I was afraid you would avoid me because you saw me with a man. Instead, you avoided me because you saw me." Once again, the blush of shame crept over your cheeks. Why could he laugh about this? "That's not funny, Muhammad!" It just made him laugh even louder. Only after a few seconds he was able to calm down and gave you one of his usual warm smiles. He caressed your cheek before his hand came to rest on your head, playing with your hair.

"I thought you would hate me. Instead, you are ashamed of something so ridiculous. Forgive me for laughing. I'm just relieved it's nothing bad." He wasn't angry that you watched? Relief flooded your body and with a broad smile, you enjoyed his warmth. You should have talked about this much sooner.



Never before had you met Polnareff face to face. You knew him, of course. He was a great swordsman after all. But while he skilfully danced across the battlefield with a weapon in his hand, the grace of an artist flowing through his every move, your strengths lay elsewhere. Your weapon, the knowledge collected from books, your art, the words rolling off your tongue. You had many more similarities to Muhammad and because of that, it surprised you that Muhammad savored the younger man’s presence. But then again, after Muhammad helped you to get acquainted with Polnareff, you started to understand why and saw the appeal of the swordsman.

Despite Polnareff's seriousness during his battles - you had only ever seen him in training with the young Joestars - he had a great sense of humor and it was a pleasure to talk to him. He managed to help you forget every worry, could elicit a laugh from you even in the darkest of days. But in the months that you had met each other now, either all three of you, just you and Muhammad or you and Polnareff - "Jean-Pierre, but you may also call me Jean, ma belle" - you were no longer sure what kind of relationship this was.

You thought the two of them were a couple and yet you were sure that they were flirting with you independently - and in rare cases together. You didn't know what to think about it. On the one hand, it was flattering, almost tempting, but on the other hand, they were a couple. Were they not? You never saw them exchange romantic gestures in public, but that was rather unsurprising. After all, their heads were on the line if they got caught. Maybe that was the cause of their friendliness. You didn’t report them, they thought they owe you.

It was confusing, so you were relieved when they resolved the situation after several months of you brooding in silence.



"I always knew women were mysterious. But you? No matter how hard I try to understand you, ma bell, you always find a new way to surprise me," Polnareff said, leaning back in his arm chair. You were in Avdol's chamber - a spacious room, far away from the other servants living quarters, near the entrance to the royal library. That was probably one of the advantages of being an advisor to the king. The room was disorganised and messy, yet everything was labeled, and if Advol needed to find something he did so in mere seconds. You wouldn't be able to find anything in his room. Opened books, rolled out scrolls, burned candles, potions in a huge variety of colors, and beautifully shimmering crystals.

Without further ado, Avdol had led you into the tidy sleeping area of the room, separated by a folding-screen from the mess on the other side. A large four-poster bed, a wardrobe, and a sitting area with oriental looking covers. Minimalist but comfortable. Everything smelled of incense and herbal tea. So many times you had already sat here, talked to the two men, and spent a nice evening with them, that it almost felt like a second home to you.

You placed the cup on the small side table and looked at Polnareff questioningly. "I don't know how much clearer we have to be for you to understand." He slowly bent over and stretched out a hand. Callused fingers stroked through your hair before they danced across your cheeks. "Or are you just playing with us? Do you want us to seduce you? Maybe you like the attention." Avdol clicked his tongue. "Jean. This was not what we agreed upon." Polnareff just sighed and sank back into his armchair, rolled his head to the side, and looked at his lover.

"I know, I know." Then he turned his gaze back to you. Striking blue eyes scanned over your body as if they were searching for an answer. "But your technique clearly didn't work. Either she's playing with us or she doesn't understand." They had a conversation about you as if you weren't even there, as if you weren't sitting right next to them, listening to every word they said. "What exactly are you talking about? What don't I understand?" The two men exchanged a meaningful look. Avdol seemed unhappy that Polnareff had brought up the topic, Polnareff probably just wanted to speak his mind - as usual. Before the magician could stop the swordsman, he said, "We want you.”

The words seized the room in awkward silence. Did that mean that you hadn't just imagined the flirting and that the two were actually interested in you? What exactly did they want? Sex? Sex with three persons? You choked on your own saliva and started coughing. Fortunately, you had put the cup down before.

"Jean!", Avdol rebuked loudly and sat down next to you to pat you on the back with warm hands. Polnareff only laughed while you pressed out a quiet, "Excuse me?” Once again it was Polnareff who spoke. "Muhammad wanted to seduce you. How did you put it again?" Polnareff raised a hand to his chest and put on a serious face - looking rather ridiculous -, before he said in a bad imitation with a lowered, dark voice, "She is a good woman. A woman like her deserves the best and I don't want to scare her, Jean. We have to get her slowly used to the idea." Avdol turned red and his hand disappeared from your back, you caught yourself missing his touch.

"Well, it seems like your approach doesn't work. So let me be frank." This time Polnareff turned to you, a bright smile on his lips and a confident look in his eyes. "You are beautiful. You accepted us as a couple. You are open minded. You are smart. You are funny. We want you." You felt your cheeks begin to burn, could imagine the way your face turned beet-red. You looked back and forth between the two men, then asked in a nervous voice, "But you - you are in a relationship?” Polnareff laughed out loud, Avdol gave him a scolding look before he took your hand. His warmth soothed your raging thoughts.

"And we will remain a couple. But we talked about you and," Avdol stopped briefly, seemingly searching for the right words to continue, "we would like to invite you into our bed.” Only Avdol could ask a shameless request in such a polite way. You should be angry, curse at them and storm out of the room. But you did no such thing. Ever since the night you caught the two of them, you yourself had been toying with the idea of what you would look like between them. Pressed against Polnareff's strong chest, your lips sealed with a passionate kiss, while Avdol took you from behind and explored your body with his warm hands.

But now that this very possibility was handed to you on a silver platter, you were speechless. Overwhelmed. Avdol sighed and slowly pulled his hand back. "I told Jean that we shouldn't ask you so directly. I didn’t want to force you into anything. If you don't want this, we'll never mention it again. We can remain friends and forget this. If that's what you want." You didn’t want to forget this. Not now, not ever. Without thinking, you pushed yourself against Advol’s chest and claimed his lips in a rushed kiss.

You wanted this. You wanted to feel desirable and beautiful and in the eyes of these men, you were. You wanted to feel Avdol, his warmth. You wanted to feel Polnareff, his heartbeat. This time it was Avdol who was overwhelmed. Still, he put his arms around your body and pulled you closer into his embrace, returning your kiss fervent. His lips were soft, moving in perfect harmony against yours. As if they were made for kissing you.

Only Polnareff's loud laughter tore you back to reality. Hesitantly, you separated from Avdol and looked over your shoulder at the other man. "Would you look at this? My approach was the right one. Wouldn’t you agree, Muhammad?" The smug grin on Polnareff's lips was both charming and unnerving. "I admit, your approach had a positive result. For once," Avdol said after clearing his throat, then he took your hand and turned your attention back to him. "Are you sure?" You had never been more.



The warmth the two radiate was almost unbearable. You pressed yourself into the soft bed below you, tried to catch your breath while four hands explored your naked body. They were everywhere, stroking your arms, massaging your breasts and thighs. Teasing kisses pressed on your neck, words whispered against your ear. Your mind was empty, all your senses were focused on what was happening. The touches were both too much and not enough.

Avdol lay behind you, bare chest pressed against your back. He had undressed you with careful hands, making sure you felt comfortable every few seconds before you silenced him with a demanding kiss. Polnareff lay before you, his hands touching all those parts of your body where you differ from the other gender. Fingers sinking gently into flesh - belly, breasts, thighs. "You are so soft." It was amusing how fascinated he was by your body, but when you compare yourself to the shapely man behind you, you could understand why.

Avdol was built like a renaissance marvel statue. A perfect body without even one gram of fat, a mountain of pure muscle. Not that Polnareff was any less muscular, but narrower in his overall shape. A nimble body for a skilled swordsman like him was probably an advantage. "I could touch you all day," said Polnareff, tearing you from your thoughts. He reached for your hips and pulled you closer to him, his hard cock pressed against your legs and twitched in anticipation.

"But I need to feel you now. We have waited so long for this moment," he said, throaty. As soon as the words rolled off his tongue, he had you on your knees. Warm hands pushed you in the right position as if you weighed nothing and you could feel Polnareff kneeling behind you, while Avdol rolled himself underneath you. Had they arranged this beforehand, weren't you the first person to share the bed with them, or did they just know what the other wanted? As if Avdol could read your thoughts, he placed a hand on your cheek and pulled you down to claim your lips with a gentle kiss, dispelling all your doubts into thin air.

"We'll stop as soon as you tell us," he murmured against your lips, gently playing with your hair. Polnareff kissed across your back moving down with each press of his lips against your skin and buried his teeth in your ass without warning, causing you to gasp in surprise. You turned your head, staring stunned at him. He just grinned. "Excuse me. It was just too tempting. So soft." As if to emphasize his statement, he grabbed your butt with one hand and squeezed, still grinning. With his other hand, he held his cock and dragged the tip through your wet folds, teasing your entrance.

Panting, you pressed your face against Avdol's neck, who still played with a flick of your hair. "You sound wonderful when you moan. Do not hold back." The affection in his gaze made you relax, soothed your raging nerves and a groan escaped your lips as Polnareff slowly pushed inside. He pressed his face against your neck, muffling his moan while mouthing over your pulse, licking over tender skin with the flat of his tongue. "You are so tight. Fuck. Muhammad, you're missing out." The man below you laughed softly and continued to play with your hair, calming you down while Polnareff sank further and further into you. "Maybe next time I'll feel you. Would you like that?"

He captured your gaze with warm brown eyes, a fire raging inside his iris. Next time? But you couldn't answer because Polnareff pulled almost out, only to start with a slow and steady rhythm. Your knees trembled as he kept pressing you against Avdol's chest. It had been so long since you had felt a man inside you, your work in the service of the king did not always make it easy to find a partner. As much as you enjoyed the thrusts of Polnareff, you wanted Avdol to feel comfortable as well.

"Can you sit up," you asked between the thrusts, panting. Every push of his hips, every time his cock entered your core, he rubbed deliciously against your walls. Avdol raised an eyebrow in question but didn't answer. Instead, he sat up, his crotch now at eye-level and you didn't waste any time. Without further ado, you took his erection in your mouth and ran your tongue around his tip. A salty taste, deep, rich - only fueling your lust more. A surprised "Oh" escaped Avdol's lips and Polnareff behind you chuckled.

"Greedy girl. Wants to satisfy two men at once," Polnareff gasped in your ear and his thrusts picked up speed, fingernails pressing crescents in your hip, rough hands pulling you against his hips. Avdol's touches, in comparison, were gentle. Fingers stroked your cheek, caressing your face, your lips. He smiled warmly, a blush covering his cheeks. A hand lay on the back of your neck without pressing you down. The cock in your mouth was big, too much for you to fit all at once. So you just licked the places you could reach, sucked at the tip while massaging the rest of his cock with your hand.

The sounds escaping Avdol’s lips were proof enough that he liked it. Praise after praise was whispered, only interrupted when he moaned your name. Polnareff behind you was no different, though his words were more obscene. He groaned in your ear, bit your shoulder, and pierced the skin of your hips with his fingers while whispering the dirtiest words you ever heard. With every passing moment, he thrusted harder into you, pursuing his orgasm without mercy. Your moans were muffled by Avdole's cock in your mouth, but that didn't stop you from voicing your pleasure. Besides, they both seemed to like how loud you were.

"Your pussy clenches me so tightly. Are you coming soon? You feel so perfect around me," Polnareff whispered behind you. His hand wandered between your legs, found your clitoris, and began to rub it with skillful strokes. Your knees trembled, excitement pulsed through your whole body. You wanted to come, you were so close and Polnareff's fingers pushed you towards your limits. It was hard for you to concentrate on the cock in your mouth, while someone else pushed you closer and closer to your orgasm, but Avdol had started to thrust his hips, filling your mouth at  his own pace. He twitched in a tell-tale manner, announcing his approaching orgasm. You raised your gaze and could see his eyes veiled in lust.

"You are doing so well," he gasped in a dark voice, but your mind was clouded, you could barely understand him. Polnareff's fingers continued to stimulate you and the mixture of his rubbing, the hard thrust, and the moaning of obscenities from both men finally brought you to orgasm. You released Avdol’s cock, threw your head back, and moaned. Polnareff had to hold your body in his arms so that you wouldn’t fall forward while he kept thrusting inside you. Gasping for air, you watched Avdol fisting his cock, staring at you with a hungry gaze.

Moments later Avdol groaned your name and hot sperm splattered over your breast and his fingers. Polnareff followed shortly after as he slammed home, his hips stuttered to a halt as he filled you with cum, moaning incomprehensible words during his high. Only then did he release his grip and you fell on Avdol's chest. Exhausted but completely satisfied. Polnareff sank on the mattress next to Avdol and pulled you between them.

For a few moments, you three all caught your breath, until Polnareff pressed his face into your shoulder. You could feel him grinning. "Next time I want to fuck your cute mouth. Muhammad looked quite satisfied. You would like that, wouldn’t you?" You immediately felt a blush of shame on your cheeks. Polnareff had no filter between his brain and mouth. Somehow that trait made him so charming in the first place.

"If she wants the next time," Avdol interfered and turned your head in his direction. A calloused thumb rubbed over your lower lip. "However, both of us would be pleased if you would decide to join us again. You were wonderful." He pressed a warm kiss on your forehead and you closed your eyes. There was still so much you wanted to do with them.

Chapter Text

At first glance, nobody would expect Bruno Bucciarati to be an absolute sadist in bed. With his slim figure, elegant appearance and eloquent way of speaking, nobody's first thought would be 'this man loves to see his partner suffer behind closed doors'. And yet you stood in the doorframe to his room and watched the scene in front of you with keen interest. If you never had experienced similar situations before, you would have been shocked. Now you just closed the door behind you, drawing the attention of both men to you.

"Couldn't you wait for me?" you asked, put your bag aside, and took off your jacket. As if Leone was not tied to the bed with both arms above his head, mouth gagged, completely naked, with his cock erect and twitching against his stomach. Panting and writhing Leone whimpered, saliva covering the ball gag and his swollen lips. He looked at you pleadingly, as if you had the key to his misery in your hands. Which you probably did. If you demanded something from Bruno, he would do so without questioning your wish. But Leone looked good as he was. So why wish for anything else?

"Oh, amore, I'm waiting for you. I'm just keeping him warm." Bruno's loving voice dripped from his lips like honey. Sugary-sweet, yet dangerously viscid. The mischievous gleam in his eyes excited you. What had he planned for today?

Slowly, you strode to the bed and noticed the beads of sweat on Leone's body as they ran over his flesh, pale skin glistening in the dimmed light. The closer you came, the louder you could hear a vibrating sound. Curiously, you tilted your head to the side, and next to the well-known silicone cock ring around Leone's broad base was a purple vibrator, widening his entrance. Bruno was holding a remote control, his thumb scrolled the small wheel upwards. The vibrating and the muffled moaning got louder.

You took a seat next to Leone's upper body and with one hand stroked the sweat-dampened hair from his forehead, looked into his beautiful eyes, darkened with lust and despair. "You call this warmed up? One touch," you circled Leone's red glans with a single finger, he groaned and tore at his shackles, "and he will break.” Bruno just chuckled in amusement. "He knows that he is not allowed to come without permission." With that, Bruno leaned forward and reached for your neck. He pulled you to his lips and after a short kiss leaned his forehead against yours.

It was such a gentle gesture, but you were used to it. That's how your relationship always went. Everyone always thought Leone played the dominant role, but in reality you and Bruno were holding the reins. But Leone loved it - loved to be the center of your attention, loved to be treated like the little bitch he was. You only took your eyes off Bruno as Leone whimpered. He had probably been lying on the bed long enough without your undivided attention. You slowly turned to face him and played with his beautiful silver hair. "How long have you played with him like this?" you asked, without turning your gaze away from Leone. "Maybe half an hour? Not long."

"Not long?" You laughed and followed the arch of Leone's lips with your forefinger, beautifully wrapped around the gag. "The poor man. You're so mean to him." Leone whimpered and tried to lean into your touch, but Bruno stopped him by turning the vibrator up to the highest setting. Leone arched his back, his bent legs trembling and precum dripping from the tip of his cock onto his flat stomach. His eyes rolled backwards before the vibration stopped completely and his body fell exhausted into the mattress.

"You are too merciful. Just look at him, he loves it. Like the little bitch that he is." Your thoughts exactly. Smiling, you pressed a little kiss on Leone's forehead, tasted salty sweat on your tongue after licking your lips, before turning to Bruno. "What's the plan? When I see you two together like this, I don't want to wait any longer." The soft smile on Bruno's lips twisted into a devilish grin. "Oh, you're not the only one, amore." With that, Bruno climbed out of bed and stood beside the headboard, looking down at Leone. At first his hands stroked gently across his lover's chest, slowly up over his cheeks, into his velvety soft hair, before he grabbed a few strands and pulled hard.

"You'll be good, won't you?" Leone nodded, though his movement was limited due to Bruno's tight grip. "Good. Call Moody Blues." Leone hesitated for a moment, but Bruno's gaze was warning and demanded absolute obedience. An act, of course, you two would never force Leone to do something and he could always stop the scene with a previously arranged signal. Even when he was tied up, he always had the freedom to pound against the headboard, or he had an object in his hand that he could drop if gagged. Otherwise the agreed upon safeword was 'red'. You had discussed the use of stands in the bedroom beforehand, though up until now you never used Moody Blues.

As the purple stand appeared, you lay in bed next to Leone, drawing soothing little circles with your fingers on his chest while observing Bruno with keen interest. He hadn't told you what his plan was, but Moody Blues in bed promised many exciting possibilities. Bruno named a day and the exact time down to the minute. Apparently this plan was well-wrought and you tried to remember what exactly happened on that day. As the stand slowly changed shape, a grin crept on your lips. Oh, this would be fun.

Purple turned into pale, naked skin. The stand knelt on the bed and raised its hands above its head as if they were tied together and fastened to the ceiling with a rope. You knew this position well, the evening had been burned into your memory like no other. Leone's moans, Bruno's dark laugh, the feeling between your legs as Leone desperately thrusted inside you, afraid his orgasm would be denied if he wasn’t fast enough. Even if he had laid over you, he had never been in control. You never thought seeing Moody Blues shape into Leone would excite you as much. "You devil," you said in a soft voice before a laugh escaped your lips. Bruno’s plan began to unfold right in front of you.

Apparently Leone also remembered the night very well, his Adam's apple bobbed up and down noticeably as he swallowed hard. Bruno pulled on Leone's ankles, the taller men slid down over the mattress and came to rest in front of Moody Blues' hip. "Remember how hard he thrusted inside you? How desperate he wanted to cum?" You pressed your face into the crook of Leone's neck, kissing his skin with a grin on your lips. "Oh, I do. It was good. Still, I prefer him on his back. But in retrospect, Bruno, it was a very good idea." Leone whimpered, could only listen to your conversation, the ball gag still prevented him from speaking.

With a sudden jerk, Bruno pulled the vibrator out of Leone’s ass, leaving his hole twitching around nothing. Leone threw his head back, giving you more room to nibble on. You continued kissing over the salty skin while Bruno sat himself behind Moody Blues, letting his hands wander over the pale belly. The stand was still motionless, Leone from the past kneeling on the bed with arms raised above his head as if frozen in time. His cock stood proud in the air. "Are you excited, Leone? You will feel how I felt as you fucked me. Hmm, yeah, you are excited, aren’t you? Can’t wait to feel your own cock."

Leone turned his head slightly and looked into your eyes. He pleaded silently, begging for release, wanting to come at last. You gently stroked his hair. "It's okay. Let Moody Blues begin. I allow it." Not a second later, the stand in the shape of its user began moving. Thrusts, moans and whimpering off the past filled the room. The stand snapped his hips forward and rammed itself deep into Leone's already prepared hole. His loud scream was muffled by the ball gag and yet his whole body vibrated with lust. There was nothing more beautiful than to hear the otherwise stubborn and proud Leone moan so submissively. And now you were able to hear him twice.

Bruno sat at the foot of the bed and looked spellbound at the back of the double. You, too, knew what was about to happen, so you gave the whimpering Leone a brief goodbye kiss on the forehead before crawling to Bruno and leaning against him. Shortly afterwards, Moody Blues arched his back and screamed. A few seconds later a deep red mark appeared on his skin. The thrusts of his hips stopped briefly and the irregular breathing of two Leones filled the otherwise silent room, before the double threw its head back once more and screamed. Another dark red mark appeared. A satisfied sigh escaped you at the same time as Bruno. So this is what it looked like when Bruno used his whip to play.

"Maybe I should try that, too." Bruno smiled and gave you a gentle kiss on the cheek before whispering in your ear: "I'm sure he would love that. So would I." You had no doubts about the statement and turned your gaze back to the scene before you. Leone on his back, legs wrapped around the hips of his stand, arms tied to the bed over his head. He moaned against the gag, eyes rolling backwards. He was so close, but wasn't allowed to come. The cockring delayed the inevitable and even if he wouldn't wear one, he wouldn't dare to cum without permission. Leone was a well behaved sub.

For a few moments you watched more and more burning-red lines form over Moody Blues' back - strokes of the past that gradually reappeared - before you crawled to Leone, who tried to concentrate but failed miserably. Slowly, you took the gag out of his mouth and immediately he moaned your name, whimpered and begged. "Please, please let me come. Let me come! Please. Oh god, I’m at my limit. Please!" You knew that last part was a lie, otherwise he would have knocked on the bedstead a long time ago.

"Later. Now tell me, how does it feel to be fucked by yourself?" Smiling, you began to stroke Leone's untouched erection, eliciting one shameless moan after another. It was obvious how difficult it was for him to order his thoughts with one hand on his cock while getting fucked hard. You lightly squeezed his base right above the cockring and Leone's voice broke, lips opened in a silent scream, dark eyes rolling back before he focused on you. "Please, please let me come." Leone's body was repeatedly pressed against the headboard by the hard thrusts of his stand. He looked so handsome as he writhed on Bruno's dark bedding, covered in sweat, begging for his release.

"You know you are not allowed to cum until I do." You started to undress and only stopped as every piece of clothing lay on the floor. Leone hadn't averted his eyes, not even for a second, greedily staring at your body, ready to satisfy you in any way you asked him to. He would never deny one of your wishes, not in bed, not anywhere. You put one hand on his cheek and he leaned into your touch, seeking the gentle contact, while his stand continued to fuck him. "Anything you want," he gasped as Moody Blues moaned above him and continued to snap his hip forward.

You lifted his head slightly and pressed a flat pillow under his neck before climbing over his body, hips hovering over his face, your naked sex right in front of his eyes. "You know what to do." With that you took a seat on his face and Leone immediately pressed his tongue against your entrance and licked over sensitive folds with skillful leaps. You bit your lower lip and rolled your hip against his face, pressing yourself towards his nimble tongue while looking at the double in front of you. Moody Blues - Leone from the past - had thrown his head back and moaned Bruno’s name. You could imagine exactly how his back must look, after all you had rubbed ointment on the sore spots that evening.

Behind Moody Blues sat Bruno, eying the scene in front of him with a satisfied half-smirk. At some point while you had been talking to Leone, he had lost his clothes and was now massaging his cock with slow strokes. It twitched in his hand every time one of the three people in front of him moaned or Moody Blues body jerked hard because an invisible whip bruised his skin. "How do you feel, princess?" Dark eyes wandered over your body, lingering on the spot between your legs, watching Leone greedily lick your pussy, before looking at your face. "Can he satisfy you or do I need to remind him how to treat you properly?"

As if Leone had heard Bruno's words, the movements of his tongue got even more vigorous. With burning eagerness he continued to lick your folds, sucked your clitoris with pointed lips and pressed his tongue into your entrance. Every movement skilfully, executed thousands of times before and yet every time was an absolute pleasure. Your legs trembled, holding up most of your body weight so as not to break the neck of the man beneath you while he satisfied you with his tongue as if it was his last feast. "Hmm, no, he is good." Your hands moved across his trembling chest, scratching tenderly over his nipples, slowly down to his twitching cock.

Some drops of precum had already fallen on his belly, the happy trail leading from his navel down to his crotch sticky to the touch. Your fingers stroked through the hair before wrapped around his arousal. Leone's tongue stopped along with his breath. He had to hold back, not wanting to come without permission. Bruno had been torturing him for so long, his double fucking him mercilessly didn’t help in the slightest. Your fingers were only a drop in the ocean. "Do you think we should let him cum?" you asked Bruno, and Leone tore at his cuffs beneath you as if your words had triggered something in him. He whimpered against your wet slit, which only elicited a satisfied gasp from you.

"Perhaps," was Bruno's vague response. Slowly, he continued stroking his cock up and down, sliding closer to you on his knees. "Withdraw Moody Blues." Leone started to lick you again, full of verve, but his stand disappeared into nothingness, leaving him empty and twitching. Bruno placed himself between Leone's legs and rubbed his tip over his entrance. "Look how he twitches. So eager to be filled." Leone whimpered against your center and began to suck on your clitoris again as Bruno sank deep into him with one hard push. Even your thighs could barely muffle Leone's loud moans. His whole body trembled and he lifted his hips, pushing against Bruno as hard as he could in his position.

Panting, you braced yourself with your hands on Leone's chest, stole a short kiss from Bruno before moving your hips against the face below you. "Such a good boy," you said, out of breath, your dark gaze watching Bruno start a hard rhythm, snapping his hips forward and sink deep into Leone over and over. You could only imagine how good the velvety soft walls around Bruno's cock must feel, or the way Bruno's tip kept hitting Leone's prostate. But with the way the two were moaning you knew exactly how close there were.

Bruno reached for the back of your head and pulled you into another deep kiss, while his hip never stopped thrusting. You continued to press your pussy against Leone's tongue, enjoying how he licked you and sucked on your most sensitive parts. Your legs trembled under your weight, muscles burned with effort, the orgasm came noticeably closer. Bruno's loving kiss grounded your tense nerves, while Leone's tongue greedily explored your core. The mixture of both their touches finally pushed you inside the abyss. You moaned into Bruno's mouth, never parting lips, while your hip twitched against Leone's face.

Your legs failed you and you slumped forward against Bruno's chest, who pulled you towards him so Leone could catch his breath. Immediately, Leone's loud and shameless moans filled the room. He alternately called your and Bruno's name, begging for release, pushing his hips against Bruno's hard thrust, his leaking cock dark red in color, ready to cum in a moment's notice. You throned on Leone's belly and looked Bruno in the eye, not wanting to make the decision without him, but he just nodded. He, too, was about to cum. Cheeks dusted in soft red, breathing irregular.

His hot breath rolled over your lips and you pulled him in another deep kiss while your hand removed the cock ring around Leon's arousal and with just two short pumps he came. Leone screamed out his orgasm, sticky threads shot over your fingers and hit Bruno's chest, who just gasped against your lips and sank his nails into your hip. How tight was Leone right now? What bliss felt Bruno in this moment? You parted lips and whispered the questions into his ear. Bruno's thrusts stopped and he moaned shamelessly as his orgasm washed over him.

Bruno was breathtaking while he came. His otherwise straight hair all messed up, framing his face in wild strands; eyes closed, long lashes casting shadows over his reddened skin; lips swollen from each kiss you had shared. Only when his body stopped twitching were you able to move and kiss his forehead before climbing off Leone's body to lay down beside him, losing the restraints around his wrists. Bruno sat down on the other side of Leone and you listened to their conversation.

No matter how dominant before, after sex he took care of the exhausted Leone in the most loving way possible. He breathed sweet nothings expressions of love into his ear while kissing his chafed wrists. You snuggled up against Leone's chest and played with his silver hair. Soft touches to show him that you were thinking of him as well. Promised him a nice warm bath together where you would wash his beautiful hair. Massage his shoulders if he wanted so. After all, he had been so well-behaved. Had lasted so long.

Later that evening, at dinner with friends, Leone would once again spew insults in all directions. But you and Bruno knew a different side. You had heard him beg, seen him submissive, and knew every dirty secret. You liked the self-confident Leone, the prideful one, yes, even the arrogant man. But you loved him the most if he showed his soft side. You would never give up either of them. You loved them with all your heart.

Chapter Text

Your fingers moved slowly across your belly, danced up to your breasts where they lingered for a few short seconds. Music filled the hotel room, a composition of some old classic artist - the kind of music DIO liked to listen to while sipping wine in a dimmed room. It could be relaxing though, you had to admit. And since DIO had been gone for a while now, it helped you to concentrate on yourself.

In slow movements, you massaged your right breast with one hand, the other lay on your stomach, and drew small circles there. Your eyes were closed, sharpening your other senses. You smelled the freshly washed sheet under you, felt the soft mattress in your back, heard your own pulse beating in your ears. Between thumb and forefinger, you rolled your nipple and a low gasp escaped you. The other hand moved further down.

It was rare that DIO left you, his beloved queen, alone for a longer amount of time. Not because he was worried that something might happen to you - no, after all, you were like him, a vampire, transformed with the mask years ago - but rather because he hated to leave things behind that he considered his own. But he was visiting an old friend, so you were staying in a hotel. You had planned to utilize the time alone for some intimate action.

A warm bath with a glass of red wine, some tooth-rotting sweets ordered through room service, and finally a relaxed evening in bed with wandering hands over your naked skin. Sighing contentedly, you stroked your wet folds, spreading your legs for easier access. When was the last time you were able to touch yourself like this without the danger of getting caught? Just once you wanted to feel that sweet, sweet high without him interfering.

Your thoughts began to wander. You imagined DIO lying on top of you and kissing your breasts while his hip rolled against yours. Your hands simulated the touches and with closed eyes, you could feel the fantasy turn into something more real. See his ineffable beauty. The body of an Adonis, with the face of a god and the sharp tongue of the devil.

Everyone would know at first sight that he was different. Not because of his clothes, his choice of words, or his strangely pointed teeth. No. The aura surrounding him was enough to make everyone's flesh crawl. You were ready to bolt as soon as he only looked at you. It is exactly this feeling of tingling skin, fear that seizes your whole body, a panic that pulsates through your every vein, that draws you closer to him. His prey comes to him, willing to surrender body and soul, just glad they could be of use.

Your pussy throbbed, longing for more, thinking about him, remembering the way he would touch you. With two fingers, you slowly circle around your clitoris, panting DIO's name into the silent room. Even when he was not there, he controlled your thoughts. In your fantasy he was with you, you could smell him. That sweet, almost fruity, scent that always surrounded him, like a good wine, with a soft sour undertone. You could hear him. The slow heartbeat, pumping blood through his body. The steady pulse of a vampire, not alive, but also not yet dead. He was so close.

You opened your eyes and pulled the blanket over your body.

In the shadows of the room, you could see his outline. The familiar towering figure, looming on an armchair, legs crossed, a glass of red wine in his hand. When he smiled, his white teeth flashed in the darkness. "Don't let me disturb you." He sipped at the glass, golden eyes gleaming with mischief. "I didn't hear you enter," you replied, pulling the blanket further around your body. Had he used the World to creep up on you?

DIO stood up, put his glass aside, and with big steps he crossed the room, ignoring your question. "Aren't my touches enough?" His quiet voice promised punishment in the form of hours of bitter-sweet torture. A cold breeze made your body tremble and when you looked down, your blanket had disappeared. A surprised sound escaped your lips and you pulled your legs to your chest, hiding from his piercing gaze.

With one hand he grabbed your chin and gently lifted your head so you had to look into his eyes. "I asked you a question, Princess." He really expected an answer. You swallowed as his thumb grazed over your mouth and parted your lips. "You are," you began, wanting to explain yourself, but his thumb pushed into your mouth, pressed against your tongue, and denied you further words. "Why would you lie to me?" He clicked his tongue pejoratively, then he climbed into bed with you.

"In that case, I must show you I am enough."

His lips pressed against your neck, teeth nibbled dangerously close to your carotid artery before he kissed slowly further down. A warm hand bent one of your legs, stroking upwards over sensitive skin. His tongue wandered across your chest and lips closed around your nipple, sucking on the erect bud. He knew exactly which parts of your body to stimulate to earn your sweetest sounds of pleasure.

A finger pressed inside you without warning, rubbing across your sensitive walls and eliciting a gasp. His name from your lips, lowly whimpered. He laughed against your chest, sucking one last time on your nipple, before licking further down. With reddened cheeks, you watched as he slipped between your legs. A second finger pressed inside you and you arched your back, closing your eyes. Too embarrassing, too indecent was the scene happening between your legs.

"Look at me," he growled and you opened your eyes without hesitation, not daring to disobey such a direct order. His face hovered close in front of your naked sex, two fingers widened you and continued to rub across your sensitive walls. He never averted his gaze, always maintaining eye contact. He took your leg and put it over his shoulder, kissing over your inner thigh several times before his tongue moved further down to support his fingers.

You wanted to look away, avoid his gaze, and close your eyes. But you knew better than to refuse one of his commands. He would never hurt you - you knew that he loved you with all his heart - but he could be quite unforgiving. So you continued to look at him while he lay between your legs, spoiling you with fingers and tongue. The muscles in your legs twitched, sometimes pushing him a little closer to your center before you reached into his soft blond hair and pulled.

DIO gasped, his eyes flashed warningly, and he raised his head. His fingers continued to thrust in and out of you, filling the room with wet sounds. "Don’t push your luck, Princess." His voice was dark, soaked in lust, and venom equally. “Keep your hands to yourself.” Seconds later his lips closed around your clitoris and elicited a surprised groan from you. His tongue moved relentlessly over the small bundle of nerves while continuing to move his fingers, rubbing over your walls, only to find that one spot.

Stars danced before your eyes as you grabbed the bedsheets for dear life. Moaning, you threw your head back as your orgasm rolled over you. Your pussy clenching around his fingers, hips stuttering against his hands. Golden eyes focused on you, DIO grinned pleased with the way you were squirming under his touch. His tongue slowed down, but his finger curled inside you, over and over again, massaging your walls and that one spot without mercy until everything you could see was white. You moaning his name turned into mindless groaning.

The orgasm ebbed, but his fingers did not stop. You could feel DIO's grin as he started to lick you again. It took a few seconds for you to realize what his plan was, but it was too late to change his mind. Once again, his punishment would be to satisfy you until your mind was long gone and all you could beg for was his forgiveness and release.

"DIO", his name dripped from your lips, barely a whisper, as all your muscles tightened. He didn't bother, just continued to devour you whole, and listened to the sweet sounds you made for him and only him. An electric shock shot through your body, down your spine, and into all your limbs. So shortly after your first orgasm, the otherwise pleasant touch was torture. Everything was too much and yet you felt a second orgasm building up.

You couldn't look at him anymore and put one arm over your face. DIO did not admonish you and continued to eat you out, every flick of his tongue a bittersweet mix of pleasure-pain. You could hear how wet you were, felt his sharp teeth on your sensitive folds from time to time, and the way his fingers picked up speed again. Your toes curled and you moaned his name as another orgasm hit you with full force.

But once again, DIO didn't stop, kept going, kept pushing your body to new heights over and over again. He knew you, inside and out. Every thought that crossed your mind and every insignificant detail of your past. He loved to hear you moan, his name from your lips was the greatest satisfaction, next to your pleading, of course. Today he was aiming for the latter. He wanted to hear your trembling voice whimpering for mercy.



The sheet was soaked with sweat, your hands clawed into the fabric and your back arched so much it hurt. Your head was spinning. How long had he been lying between your thighs? He had demanded orgasm after orgasm and never stopped. Exhausted tears filled your eyes. It felt good, but you couldn't take another one, it was too much. Everything burned, fire shot through your veins. "DIO! Stop! Please!" He stopped immediately and slowly raised his head.

Breathing heavily, you returned his gaze, stared at his face wet with your juices. He grinned then wiped his sleeve over his mouth. "I'm sure you can manage another one. You sound so adorable while moaning my name." You shook your head, tired and ready for a bath, throat dry from constant moaning, skin reddened and hot. "Please, I can't. Too much, too much." His gaze softened after hearing your raspy voice. An almost unnoticeable change, but you knew him for years.

He climbed over your body, stroked a strand of hair from your face, and caged you between his arms and legs. As always, you felt helpless under him, but it was this very danger that made him so attractive, so appealing. "Does that mean my touch is enough for you?" You nodded quickly, not daring to look away. “Yes, you were always enough. I only need you. I love you.” It was the truth and he knew it.

A smug smile crept upon his lips and he sat down on the bed, leaning his back against the headboard. "Prove it to me. Show me that I am enough." He put his hand on his crotch, rubbing over the obvious bulge in his pants. "You know what to do." Your heart fluttered in your chest as you slowly crawled between his legs and lay on your stomach.

With reddened cheeks, you watched him open his pants and freed his cock from his underwear. Big hands grabbed it and stroked it a few times, rubbing the shaft against your cheek. The sticky feeling of precum on your skin made you shiver in anticipation. You turned your head and kissed between his fingers, feeling the hot flesh on your lips. He laughed softly. "Good. Now open your mouth for me, Princess."

You immediately followed his instruction, opened your mouth, and stuck out your tongue. DIO pressed his tip against your lips then down against your tongue before he slowly penetrated the wet heat of your mouth. The first few times you had tried to satisfy him with your mouth had gone wrong. He was too big, you had barely gotten more than the tip in your mouth and had choked more than anything else. But centuries at his side had taught you a lot. For example how to relax your jaw and loosen your throat.

He didn't thrusted - knowing full well that you didn't like it -, but continued to push inside at a steady pace. His cock rubbed across your tongue and you eagerly licked his hot skin, tasting salty precum. A hand lay on the back of your head and pushed you further down. You closed your eyes, concentrating on the feeling as his shaft stretched the ring of muscles in your throat. Tears welled up in your eyes, but you continued and as your lips touched his hip you looked up.

DIO stared at you, mouth slightly open, cheeks dusted in soft red. Even from this perspective, he looked breathtaking. Long blond strands of hair fell over his face, his adam's apple bobbed as he swallowed. It was rare that he let his otherwise composed appearance crumble. A sight he granted only to you. If your mouth hadn’t been stretched around his cock, you would have smiled at the thought.

As if he could read your thoughts, DIO pressed your head slightly down. "You look so good with my cock in your mouth. As if you were made to please me." A shiver ran down your spine and you began to twirl your tongue around his tip, allowing him to slowly move your head up and down. DIO could be rough. Calm moments of love and adoration were few and far between - but you knew he did love you with all his heart.

When his fingers ran through your hair and gently massaged your scalp; when he looked at you, thinking no one could see the slight smile tugging at the corner of his mouth; when he murmured your name in his sleep and his otherwise tense face relaxed. He expressed his love in such a strange way, hidden in gentle gestures. He was dangerous and yet you trusted him, knew he would literally kill to keep you out of harm's way.

You were gently torn from your thoughts as his thumb caressed your cheek. Carefully, you lifted your gaze and met DIO’s eyes filled with warmth, asking silently if you were okay. Only then did you feel the tears run over your cheeks. The hand on the back of your head had disappeared and you could withdraw. But you didn’t want to. You wanted to give DIO everything you had to offer.

With slightly red cheeks, you started to move on your own, focusing on him and nothing else. His worried expression quickly changed into a lustful one. Every soft gasp from his lips was pure desire, enveloping your body in a high of ecstasy and making you forget your shame. Your only goal was to please him, to let him see stars like you had just a few minutes ago.

With practiced movements, you licked around his length, sucked at his tip, or pressed him deep into your throat. You felt his length pulsating in your mouth, tasted precum, heard his heavy breathing, only interrupted by a soft gasp every now and then. You wanted to hear more and began to move your head up and down, pressing your lips together to create more friction.

DIO's heavy breathing quickly turned into soft moans and his fingers reached for your hair but he didn't push you down. "Look at me," he demanded and you obeyed. It was obvious how close he was to orgasm, yet he managed to gather himself and say with calm words, "I want you to swallow.” Before you had the chance to think about his words, he moaned your name and came.

Several hot ropes of cum shot in your mouth and you swallowed immediately, not wanting to waste a single drop. With each swallow you tasted him more, salty and bitter. Not the best taste and unpleasantly viscous on your tongue, but the way he moaned your name - like music to your ears. Completely spent, DIO pulled back and grabbed your chin. He didn’t have  to ask, you just opened your lips and stuck out your tongue, proving you obeyed his order and swallowed every last drop.

DIO smiled. A gentle smile, not the arrogant grin he usually displayed. You sat up and snuggled up against his chest, closing your eyes as his arms surrounded you in a tight embrace. He pulled you close to his still naked body, covering you in his warmth, the feeling of safety, of home. 

Chapter Text

Diego Brando, ingenious Jockey, extremely astute, the human personification of pride. You wouldn't say that all he did in the public eye was a charade, but you had known Diego - your Dio - for so long that you could distinguish between act and real emotion. He was not only excellent in riding, no, he also loved horses, could break in the wildest stallion, and spot an animal’s strengths and weaknesses with just one glance. His hatred for everyone else and the society as a whole had changed him. His striving for power had led him into a life where nothing was more important than the goal just barely out of his reach.

Diego wanted more than fame and wealth. Diego wanted the world to obey his bidding.

Sometimes you did not recognize him anymore. The little boy from way back was long gone. With him the good-hearted child you had fallen for while working on a farm all those years ago. The boy who had done everything for his mother and sat at her deathbed until the bitter end. The boy who had confessed his love to you with a flower in hand, surrounded by horses, manure, and hay. Sometimes you recognized him in the little things - when he lovingly patted Silver Bullet; when he had a nightmare and you needed to wake him up; or when he took your hands and squeezed them gently, without anyone noticing but you.

But the older he got, the more often you began to doubt your relationship. What would happen after he reached his goal? Was there a place for you in his perfect future?

You had fought countless battles in the past, survived each bad event, together. You had left the farm a few years after his mother's death, worked here and there to earn your living. As he finally managed his breakthrough as a professional Jockey, you had already supported him for years, had been his biggest fan since the very beginning. For the first time, you could afford things you had only wished for in your wildest dreams. For the first time, after you left the farm together, you could really enjoy life. But his career claimed its toll in the form of Diego’s time.

Every evening he returned to you, but he celebrated his victories with new acquaintances, made business deals, and sought new allies. Even though he never made friends and you were the only one who was allowed to see behind his mask, he was there for you less and less. Physical, as well as emotionally. The first time you really fought as a couple was after he expressed the ludicrous idea to marry an older lady. "For the money, she won't live long," he had said, and you had begged him not to do it. He did so anyway. How could he love you and yet marry another woman at the same time - no matter how old, no matter how rich. What he never understood was that money, power, possessions meant nothing to you. You didn't need all that as long as he was by your side.



You ignored the knocking at the door and hid yourself even deeper in the soft blankets and pillows. Maybe it was childish, but you did not want to talk to him right now. Sometimes you felt more like his secret lover and less like a partner. Of course, he couldn't introduce you as his girlfriend, after all, you lived in concubinage. If the press - or God forbid, his fans - learned that Diego had a relationship without being married, the tabloid press would write about it for weeks. And yet you wished to be privy to his decisions.

It was not the first time that he casually mentioned something you had never discussed before and expected you to accept it, no ifs, no buts. Like his decision to marry, like the decision to spend his inheritance as a widower on this apartment. Just like his participation in that stupid horse race.

The door opened squeakily, but you stayed with your back to him, punishing him with your cold silence. The expensive floorboards creak under his steps, the bed lowered behind you, and you felt his presence. The expected touch, the longed-for warmth of his hand in your back, never came. You had argued for almost half an hour before you fled to your shared bedroom with tears in your eyes. Now you were hiding between blankets and pillows, clothed in a comfortable nightgown, trying to control your feelings. Why couldn't he just understand that you didn't care if he was victorious or not, if he had a name or not? You loved Diego, not the character he staged in public.

A warm chest pressed against your back and two strong arms pulled your body into a tight embrace. A chin rested on your head, you could feel his slow breath play with your hair. You needed this proximity, Diego who held you close and promised safety without words. You had both said disgusting things, screamed bottled-up emotions at each other. He had shown you the unapproachable, aggressive, and selfish Jockey that his fans adored so much, and you loathed like nothing else. But everything was forgotten the moment he laid down next to you and his arms wrapped around you.

"I know that I am rarely there for you anymore. The work, the training, the meetings with sponsors," he said, all the anger from your previous argument evaporated. He wanted to make peace and even approached you first. It was rare for him to do so. "No matter how long I stay away, I will always come back to you. You know that, don’t you?" He meant well, yet you had to swallow your Anger, only barely able to bite back a harsh comment. How many more women would he marry before he stayed with you? How many more were you willing to endure, before he had no one to return to?

"I know, Dio. Still, I don't want you to leave for so long. Besides, the race sounds dangerous. You're already famous, do you really need another victory?" The strong arms around you moved and he turned your body towards him, to put his forehead against yours, his breath caressed your face. You sighed in unison. "It wouldn't be just another victory. This race will make history and if I were victorious, and I will be, we would get everything. Money, prestige. I could buy you anything in the world."

You turned your head to one side, dodging his piercing gaze. "I want you at home, beside me. I don’t want to feel lonely without you. No prize money in the world can buy me that." You could feel his body tense up, trying to refrain from making a snarky comment. He wanted to participate in that stupid race, but he didn't want to fight with you. Long fingers gently took hold of your chin, turned your head, so you needed to look at him, and deep into these beautiful turquoise lakes. "If I had to choose between my career and you, I would always choose you."

You saw the pain in his eyes, the silent plea not to make him choose. You knew he was telling the truth. He would always choose you, but at the same time, he would never forgive you for forcing him to make a decision. Of course, you would never put him on the spot like that, and yet you felt like the second choice. You closed your eyes but snuggled closer to Diego, who just wrapped his arms around you in another tight embrace. The steady beat of his heart calmed you down. This was everything you could ever need, so why didn't he seem to understand that?

His fingers moved up your back, lingering in your neck, and played with your hair. Warm lips pressed against your forehead and then kissed slowly across your cheek down to your mouth. He claimed your lips in a sweet kiss, helping you overcome your anger. Gently, he directed your body to your back, rolling over you, never releasing the kiss. He managed to free you from the tangle of blankets and pillows until all you felt was him. His lips, his hands, his warmth.

As he released the kiss and leaned back, you presented him with a gentle smile. Diego may be proud, eccentric, and only driven by his goal in mind, but he still loved you more than himself. Maybe it was the past that bound you together, maybe it was the love for horses. No matter what he did, you could never stay angry for long. When Diego saw your smile, the corners of his mouth twitched slightly upwards. "There it is again," he said softly and his hands were laying on your hips.

"For a moment I thought you were going to sulk all day." You rolled your eyes, but before you could answer, he pressed his lips back on yours. A deep, intimate kiss. His hands moved up your sides, gently pulling your nightgown up along the way. You turned your head to the side to release the kiss. "Diego," you said, but all you got was a deep hum in response as he kissed your now exposed neck instead of your lips. A satisfied sigh escaped you.

"That tickles," you continued, as he moved his lips over your pulse before his tongue licked your skin. "Do you want me to stop?", he asked against your neck, placing a kiss on your skin after every word. He massaged your hips, moving your thighs up and down, pushing your nightgown a little further up each time. You shook your head and pressed yourself towards his hands. That was exactly what you needed now. His proximity, physical contact, the feeling of being loved - knowing he was here with you.

His fingers slipped under the loose fabric, stroked your legs up, over your hips, and slowly pulled your undergarments down. Willingly, you lifted your hips and helped him to undress you, while he attacked your neck with soft lips and warm kisses, before licking down to suck a bruising kiss onto your collarbone. He carelessly threw the discarded piece of fabric behind him, for you to search for it later, and lay down between your legs while still moving warm hands over your skin.

Enjoying yourself, you closed your eyes and focused on the mere feeling of his touch. Warm hands cupped your breasts, massaging them gently. Through the fabric he played with your nipples, twisting and tugging gently on the sensitive buds, and laughing softly as he felt them harden. "See how your body reacts," he whispered, voice lowered as he moved his thumb over one nipple first, then the other. You shivered under his touches, a soft gasp escaped your lips.

"I love you." You opened your eyes and met his. Deep emotions, affection, love. You could see it all, he didn’t need to echo your words for you to know his true feelings. A smile tugged at your lips as he did so anyway. "I love you, too." The following kisses were different, soft, and yet passionate, sweet, and yet full of want. He was showing you the truth of his words with every brush of lips, every beat of his heart. Only when you wrapped your legs around his hip did he release the kiss and look at you mischievously. "Is someone getting impatient?"

You rolled your eyes but smiled nevertheless. "Finish what you started." Diego reluctantly took instructions but he was more than willing to follow this one in particular. Without further ado, he sat up and pulled his shirt over his head. He was slender, with a narrow waist and a flat stomach, yet his arms and legs were well-toned and hard to the touch. The perfect figure for a Jockey like him. His pants disappeared a moment later and then he was above you again, rolling his hips against yours.

Without completely undressing you, he pulled the straps of your nightgown aside, freeing your shoulders and seconds later your breasts from the fabric. The cold night air caressed your heated skin and you shivered slightly. "You are beautiful," said Diego, pressing his hips against yours. His undergarments were the last thing separating you from each other. You raised your arms, wrapped them around his neck, and pulled him against your body. "Please, Dio. I need you," you breathed against his lips, which in return earned you a satisfying gasp from Diego.

His erection pressed against your entrance, twitching against the thin fabric that separated you. As he finally got rid of the last piece of clothing you sighed in satisfaction, and even grind your hips against his cock. Diego laughed softly. "Do you want me that much?" Your nod was all it took for him to start, he took his cock in one hand, rubbing its tip against your entrance. His amused chuckle was interrupted by a dark gasp, feeling his head disappear between your folds. "You are so wet for me." Inch for inch he sank into you, focused on the way your lips parted for a silent gasp.

"Beautiful," he whispered in awe before completely sheathing himself in you. Breathing heavily, gasping at the stretch, you tried to adapt to the new sensation. "Look at me." No sooner did you raise your eyes than he began a slow pace. This was what you needed, his loving touch paired with passionate thrusts. Panting, you wrapped your legs around his hips, pulling him closer against you.

With each thrust you lost yourself more and more in ecstasy, forgetting everything around you except Diego. Your hands reached for his neck, playing with his hair while you captured his lips in another deep kiss. You gasped in his mouth and he took the chance to nudge his tongue against yours. Slow, languid kisses were exchanged while Diego kept rocking his hips back and forth.

One of his hands pulled the nightgown a little further down, circling around your bellybutton with a finger, before palming your breasts. The other one moved over your thighs and squeezed your tender skin every time he filled you completely. The kiss muffled your moans. You wanted to feel more, for him to just fuck you already, but his pace remained steady, a torturous slow rhythm, rolling his hips rhythmically against yours, while he continued to kiss you.

Diego knew exactly how to move, how to touch, to slowly drive you mad. His cock dragged over your walls, his tip kept hitting the perfect spot, sending electric shocks down your spine every time he pushed inside. All the while playing with your sensitive breasts and kissing you until your lips went numb. With each of his deep, slow strokes you moaned, pulling desperately on his blonde curls. He laughed against your lips but groaned as you pushed your hips up against his.

"More," you demanded moaning, turning your head to the side, breaking the kiss, so you could speak. As you looked at him again, his otherwise bright eyes were darkened, a calm blue lake during a thunderstorm. "More?", he echoed but did not wait for your answer. His hip snapped forward and his steady pace turned violent. His body pounded out a hard beat against yours as your loud moans filled the room and the bed squeaked witch each thrust. "Everything you ask for."

The speed of his hips increased rapidly, and every time he slammed his hips home the headboard hit against the wall with a loud thud. The only thing you could do was claw at his back, scratching dark red lines over his skin and pulling him closer with your legs while he continued with his brutal pace. You moaned his name like a mantra, hold onto him for dear life. He was the only one who was able to feel this way, make you forget the world and just feel.

You wanted to touch yourself, give in to the pleasure, ease the harsh throb in your abdomen, and finally reach the longed-for climax. As if Diego could read your thoughts, one of his hands moved between your bodies and began to rub your clitoris. He leaned back a bit, focusing on you, mirroring the way you parted your lips and groaning with each thrust. He enjoyed you moaning his name, the twitching of your body, the tell-tale clench of your tight pussy.

"Come for me," he panted between thrust and ground his fingers faster over your bundle of nerves. Each snap of his hips brought you closer to your release and as he sucked another bruising kiss into your neck, your orgasm washed over you. Moaning, you arched your back, pressed yourself as close as possible against Diego's body. Fast flicks of his fingers against your clit, hard thrust of his hips turning sloppy and swallow.

It didn’t take much longer for Diego to follow you over the edge, moaning your name, snapping his hips forward one last time before filling you with hot cum. You shuddered at the feeling, closing your eyes in delight. He supported his weight with one arm beside your head, his face so close to yours. You could feel his fast breath on your lips and you shivered. The way he twitched deep inside you, shooting several small loads until he collapsed over you. He was heavy, but before you could say something, he rolled to the side, still breathing heavily.

Sweaty, tired, but satisfied, you looked up at the ceiling. Diego did the same. Neither of you said anything, both of you just trying to calm your breathing. "I will not only partake in the race, but I will also win it," he finally said. You tense up. How could he possibly believe this was a topic you wanted to talk about right after you two had sex? Diego turned to you, lying on his side. You felt his gaze on you but kept looking up at the ceiling. "And if I win, it will be the last time I ever leave you alone for so long. Do you know why?" A faint sigh escaped you, but you played along. "Why?"

"The second I cross the finish line, hold the trophy in my hands, while someone tells me about the money I just won, the press surrounding me, pleading for a second of my time, fans screaming for autographs, photographers calling for my attention to snap a shot picture, I will ignore them all. I do not care for them, because you will be there, wait for me." He was pretty sure about that, you just laughed. Of course, you would be there for him. You would miss him and would be happy for him to return, all the while being angry that he was gone for so long. You would always support him, no matter what.

"I will push through the crowd, and then, in front of all those people, I will ask for your hand." Your head yanked to the side and you stared at Diego, who, against your expectation, did not grin and only smiled at you. "If you were willing to take me as yours, that is." Answering was hard, your breath caught in your throat.

Seconds passed and Diego started to worry his bottom lip between teeth. Only then did you start to smile and rolled over to him, embracing him, pressing your cheek against his naked chest. Happily, you snuggled up against his body. "If you ask me nicely next time." His laughter warmed your heart.

Chapter Text

More than one of your dates had been ended early by a phone call. The first time it happened, you believed that a member of his family had an accident and he needed to be there for them. The second time you were sure that Bruno had asked someone beforehand to call him during the date so he could flee if need be. The third time you just asked him to never call you again, if he was just meeting you, to dump you in a span of an hour into the date.

Shocked over your outburst, he explained that one of his children really had an accident and he needed to take them to a hospital. Your first thought was that, of course, one of his children always gets into trouble the day you have a date. Your second thought was - children? Bruno Bucciarati, although you knew him for over a month, never told you he was a father. When you didn't believe him, he simply asked you to accompany him. The end result was that you meet his adopted children during a very chaotic third date.

Bruno, the proud owner of a small café in his late twenties, had noticed early on some children rummaging through the garbage cans in the alley behind his shop. Touched by the desperate struggle for survival, Bruno took the children in. Over a few months, he had integrated Mista, Giorno, Narancia, Fugo, and lastly Trish into his life. Although he was not the biological father, nor could he officially adopt the children, he loved them like his own. A grumpy, though kind-hearted policeman helped Bruno here and there whenever he could.

The children got themselves into trouble frequently. After your third date - where you had to drive a screaming Narancia with a fork in the back of his hand to the hospital, while Bruno tried to stop the bleeding, Mista claiming the hand would need to be amputated, and Fugo screaming at Mista to shut up and stop scaring Narancia -, you never questioned Bruno's emergency-phone calls ever again.

This did not change the fact that his children got into trouble time and time again. And for whatever reason always at the most inappropriate times.



The cinema hall was barely filled. The film you chose was the last performance of the night and wouldn’t end before midnight. Bruno and you sat in the back, the story was mediocre at best and almost forgotten the moment he had taken your hand ten minutes into the film - two minutes later you exchanged kisses like love-struck teenagers. The dimly lit room hid you from watchful eyes and the beamer above you would blend everyone who would still try to catch a glimpse. 

His kisses were gentle, full of affection, and silent promises of love. Bruno was a tender lover. His hands remained above the hip, far away from any place that could be considered sexual. Every brush of his lips showed his experience. His lips moved in perfect harmony against yours, sensual and slow, he fully adapted to your tempo. And despite the rather coy kiss, he took your breath away with every gentle touch.

All you wanted was for the film to be over, for you to get into his car and drive to your apartment. But all hope for a sensual night was lost, as soon as Bruno pulled away from your lips and knitted his eyebrows together. He reached into his trouser pocket and pulled out his phone. The moment he recognized the number on the small screen his eyes widened in panic. "It's Trish. I told them to only call if something important happened." You gave him a gentle smile and shook your head. "Don’t worry. Let's go."

He drove you home that night, but your bed remained lonely and cold.



Spring in Italy was beautiful. On the first sunny morning after a few days of rainy weather, you walked through a park near Bruno's Café. Hand in hand you wandered between blooming flowers and lush green trees. It was only a short date before you both had had to go back to your respective workplaces. But no matter how much time you had on your hands, Bruno always managed to make you feel special. Small talk always developed into long conversations about various topics you both seemed to enjoy.

If you had all the money in the world for one day, what would you do? Would you rather cross America on horseback or catch a serial killer in a small Japanese town? Are you rather a dog or a cat person? Do you like children?

You never ran out of topics to talk about and so you often forgot the time, lost in gripping conversation. It was on this very day, one of the many early morning dates during your break, that you first noticed them. Narancia and Guido hiding behind a bush while you and Bruno passed the path next to them. A golden-blond shock of hair just disappeared behind them, a familiar shade of pink just seconds after.

Before you had time to think about them, Bruno pulled you into a warm embrace and kissed your forehead. The children were forgotten, banished from your mind, as you pressed yourself against his body with a content smile. "Time passes too quickly when I'm with you," he murmured into your hair after. "But I have to go back to the café. May I pick you up from work later? I can’t wait to see you again." You couldn't either.

When Bruno left, your gaze passed the bush his children had hidden in. They were gone just like Bruno.



On almost every date after that day you noticed the children sneaking around. It wasn’t hard to understand why. All the alleged accidents at the most inconvenient times? You had to accept that they simply didn’t like you as their father’s girlfriend and did everything to keep you apart. Even staging emergencies.  Even if you understood why they did it - they were young and you were the woman who took their father away - it hurt your feelings.

You had only known Bruno for a few months, yet you knew that you wanted to be a part of his family. That included his adopted children. But every time you talked to his children while waiting for him at the café, their aversion was noticeable. More than once you tried to befriend them, you even asked Bruno if they had any interests and bought gifts accordingly. Nothing seemed to help. They simply didn’t like you. But how could you possibly tell Bruno something like that?



Your kitchen was drowning in chaos of different ingredients. A package of flour had fallen over and covered your stove and part of the floor in white dust. A variety of cans and packages with toppings was standing on your table. Tomato sauce had landed not only on the dough but also on your kitchen counter. On any other day you would have been upset about the dirt, but today you hardly cared. On the contrary, cooking together with Bruno had never been so much fun.

It was amazingly easy to make pizza dough yourself and topping it with the desired ingredients was a fun activity with a partner. It shouldn't have taken as long, but you kept distracting each other. You did not need a mirror to now your face was and hair was covered with flour, just as Bruno’s was. Maybe you could take a shower together while the pizza was baking in the oven.

Just as that thought passed your mind, he lifted you onto the kitchen counter, stood between your legs, and kissed you full of fervor while you clawed your fingers into his wonderful soft hair. Forgotten was the half-finished pizza, the mess, the wine in the refrigerator. When Bruno kissed you like that, you wanted nothing else in the world but to feel his lips and body press against yours. He cupped your face with both hands and you leaned into his touch. Impatiently, you began to unbutton his jacket and pulled on the white fabric. He laughed against your lips and was about to help you when his phone rang.

You both froze. It took Bruno a few seconds before he took a step back to look at you. His eyes told you everything you needed to know. He didn’t want to stop but needed to. After all, his children were his first priority. You sighed softly and leaned back on the counter as he turned around and to answer the call. When he started speaking in quick Italian, you slipped off the wooden plate and pushed your pizza into the oven. Bruno wouldn't need his and you would have to clean up the mess on your own.



The Italian summer was torture. Even in the early morning hours, the heat was already unbearable. But when the sun hit its zenith, people scurried from shadow to shadow. You and Bruno had looked for a bench near a fountain, the mere proximity of the water helped to cool your burning skin. Despite the summer heat, you wouldn't want to miss the opportunity to spend a day with Bruno.

You sat alone on the bench while Bruno bought ice cream. Even in the hustle and bustle of the city, you could easily recognize him in his flashy clothes. On any other person, his outfit would have looked ridiculous, but it fitted him just perfectly. You could have stared at him for hours if you hadn't noticed a few familiar faces in the crowd.

Sighing, you watched Bruno's children, who were hidden rather badly behind a few display racks of a store. You had been with Bruno long enough to know what would happen next. Bruno would come back with the ice cream, shortly afterward he would get a phone call, and one or more of his children - the ones not standing guard during your date that day - would fake an accident or, in some cases, really get in trouble just to lure Bruno away from you. Narancia apparently didn't mind getting seriously hurt.

No sooner did Bruno stand in front of you, two ice cream cones in hand, then you stood up. Gently, you kissed his cheek and accepted the one he held your way. "Thank you." The smile he beamed your way was so warm, so full of affection. Why couldn't his children see that? You couldn’t smile back at him. Bruno noticed your change of heart immediately, concern was written all over his face. "Is something bothering you, amore?" For a moment your gaze flitted to his children - now better hidden than moments before - before you looked up again.

"Listen, Bruno." The moment your words left your lips his shoulders slumped down. "Are you breaking up with me?" He looked so hurt, your heart clenched painfully in your chest. You shook your head vehemently. "No, no! I love you, Bruno." It wasn't the first time you said it out loud, but the way this absolute magnificent smile returned to his lips was almost as if it was your first time declaring your love to him. You squeezed his free hand with yours. "Well, how do I start? You're going to get another call in a minute or so and just like every other time, you will need to leave. I just don't know how to handle this. We see each other so rarely already."

Not a second later his phone rang, you signed and he stared at you in surprise. "How could you possibly know this?" You just shook your head in resignation and let go of his hand. "I love you, Bruno, I really do. And I know you love me, too. Every day with you is perfect." You wanted to tell him so much more, but his gaze wandered back and forth between you and his phone, panic was written on his face. He wanted to talk about this, listen to you, but the urge to know what his children had gotten themselves into this time was overwhelming. You sighed loudly. "I should probably go."

Bruno grabbed your arm as you turned your back to him. "I have to look after them. They are still young and irresponsible. They don’t have anyone else but me," he tried to justify his actions. As if he was to blame as if he thought you'd be angry because he's looking after his kids. What felt like the hundredth time you shook your head, smiling weakly. "I’m not angry. But maybe ask them how I knew they would call." You pointed in the direction of the store, a brown mop of curly hair disappeared behind the display racks just in time. As Bruno turned around, you left.



To say that you felt miserable was an understatement. You had stopped counting the times you deleted the start of a text message and instead just stared at the screen of your phone, hoping your problem would just be dissolved magically. It had only been a few hours since you had last seen Bruno and yet your brain spun all the worst outcomes possible. You had never argued before - you couldn't even call this an argument - and now you wallowed in self-pity. You should have explained everything to him, instead, you had fled from the confrontation.

But even if you hadn’t fled, what would you even say to him? "Your children hate me"? He would never believe you. He loved them with all his heart and would just defend them. How could you approach him now? What were the right words? You wanted nothing more than to fall in his arms and apologize. So why couldn't you send a stupid text message asking him to come to see you?

The shrill ring of the doorbell ripped you out of your down-spiraling thoughts. That had to be Bruno. He came to see you! You jumped up and made your way to open the door. Your smile froze the moment you did. Five children stood before you, all but one were looking at their feet in embarrassment. Giorno stared at you, those cool, calculating eyes not showing any trace of regret. "We are here to apologize." Never before in your life had words surprised you as much as they did at that moment. Had Bruno finally understood the situation and sent them over to apologize in person?

As if Giorno could read your mind, he raised his voice again to explain further. Monotonous, almost disinterested. If the other children around him didn't look so guilty, you wouldn't have taken Giorno seriously. "Papa was furious with us. But he was right and we pried into his affairs, even though his relationship isn't our business. We just didn't want you to hurt him and completely ignored that he was happy with you." Giorno stopped and it wasn't the first time you wondered about his way of speaking. He acted much older than he actually was.

"You are good for him, he loves you! And we thought we knew better," Narancia intervened. The slim boy looked sorrowful at you with big purple eyes. The second you faced him, he began to smile, an apologetic full-toothed grin, presenting a cute gap between his front teeth. One after the other apologized to you - Trish crossing her arms in front of her chest, finger playing mindlessly with her sleeve; Fugo staring at his feet, unable to meet your gaze; Mista scratching his neck, but apologizing nonetheless.

Your eyes flitted back and forth between the children, then you started to smile. "Thank you. I really love your father. I do not intend to hurt him or take him away from you." Everyone looked down again, except Narancia, who just hugged you and pressed his head to your chest. Smiling, you embraced him as well. The hug made the whole situation a little less awkward.

"We prepared something at home for you and Papa. We won’t interrupt your date this time! Or ever again. Only if we are really in trouble. Promise!" Narancia grinned up to you and closed his eyes contentedly as you started to play with his hair. If all of Bruno's children came to trust you this fast, you’d soon be a true part of his small family.



Barely half an hour later you were standing in front of Bruno's apartment, the children had said something about 'going to annoy Leone'. It was nice to know that you were not the only victim of their shenanigans. Seconds after you had rung the doorbell, Bruno opened the door. You had only seen him a few hours earlier, but now he looked like a total wreck. Hair all messed up, eyes bloodshot. The second he saw you, his eyes became soft.

He pulled you into a firm embrace. "As soon as I understood what the children had done, I sat them down and talked to them. Oh, amore, I'm sorry. I never thought they would try to undermine our relationship. But then they disappeared and now they won’t answer their phones. I have to look for them, but I don't know where to start." You stopped his rambling by placing one hand on his cheek and caressing it with your thumb. "They came to me to apologize. They love you, Bruno, more than anything. As do I."

You kissed him and immediately felt him relax against your touch. His shoulder sank down, his arms wrapped around your hip. As you released the kiss, he put his forehead against yours. Such an intimate gesture, it conjured a smile on your face. "They are with Leone now. You don’t need to worry. But they mentioned a surprise? Something in your flat. Though they didn’t mention what exactly."

He invited you in and together you began to search the apartment. Everything was as usual. Only when you opened the door to the bathroom did you find their surprise. The room was dimmed, candles flickering all over the room and immersed everything in a warm golden light. Rose petals were scattered across the floor and in the bathtub. A bottle of wine with two glasses stood on a side table right next to the tub. A blush of shame crept over your face - the children were much too young to suggest such a thing!

Bruno appeared behind you and a soft chuckle escaped him. "I didn't even realize that they had time to prepare this. They never cease to surprise me." You looked at the petals on the ground. "Where did they even get roses on such short notice?" Bruno laughed once more and entered the room, turning on the tab, filling the tub with water. "Giorno can- oh, that would be too hard to explain. Let's talk about it another time." He turned back to you. "Do you even want this? I would love nothing more than to enjoy this with you right now. When was the last time we could enjoy something like this without interruptions?"

Laughing, you followed him to the tub and pulled him into another short, chaste kiss, before you whispered against his lips: "I’d love some alone time.”



Warm water washed around your skin and the smell of roses filled the room. The water had turned milky and slightly pink after Bruno had thrown in a bubbly bath bomb. Flower petals floated on the surface, the light of the candles refracted on the water like a million mirror shards. More than once Bruno had laughingly pulled a leaf from your arm and placed it on the edge of the tub. Now you sat between Bruno's bent legs, cuddled up against his chest, while he pressed soft kisses into your neck.

Goosebumps ran down your back and you sighed contentedly as he began to gently suck on your neck. For the first time in a long time, you were completely at ease. You could enjoy this without being interrupted. Several times he sucked bruising kisses into your skin before licking with his tongue over the dark spots. You shivered and earned a deep chuckle in return. "You taste so good, Amore. I could kiss you all evening and still wouldn't have enough of you." Slowly you turned your head and locked eyes with him, noticing the mischievous gleam.

"So why won’t you?", you asked with a purr while he kissed the corner of your mouth and let his hands slowly move up your sides. Warm palms stopped close to your breasts, only to wander back down to rest on your stomach. "If you wish so. I'll kiss you until you want something else. You just have to tell me." Tenderly he pressed his mouth on yours and nibbled on your lower lip. Strong arms pulled you closer to his chest, a tight embrace, warm and loving.

A nimble tongue licked over your lips and you opened your mouth willingly. A slow dance began, he accepted your lead without any problems, adapted to your pace, and mirrored your moves. You wanted more, so much more. You turned your upper body towards him as much as you could in your position and put one hand on his cheek. "You're so mean," you whispered against his lips and let your fingers run through his smooth pitch-black hair.

He looked at you as if you were the most beautiful person in the world, leaning towards your tender touch. "We have all the time in the world, why are you so impatient?" Bruno turned his head, kissed the palm of your hand that had previously been on his cheek, you felt him smile. "Hmm, I don't know. Bad habit?" A hint of guilt lit up in his eyes. "I’m sorry. You're right. But let me show you how nice it can be when we take our time."

Gently, he pulled you against his chest, his arms wrapped around your body, warm hands caressed your belly. The water around you splashed due to the sudden movements, the candlelight reflected off the surface like thousands of glittering sequins. Soft lips pressed into your neck, then your cheek, and after you turned your head towards him again, your lips as well.

It was a sensual kiss, one you were only too happy to return. But you found it hard to concentrate on Bruno's perfect lips while his hands moved over your body. Up your stomach, past your breasts, back down your arms to your thighs. Every touch of his fingertips left your skin tingling, wanting more. You gasped into the kiss as he cupped your breasts and began to massage them gently.

A satisfied sigh escaped you and you released the kiss to bed your head back against his shoulder. Bruno leaned forward and you could see his lips curve into a smug smile. "Have I ever told you how beautiful you are, how soft your body is?" You hummed in agreement, savoring his touch. "Yes, every other day. But I do like hearing you say it." For a moment you remained silent, before adding: “You are the most handsome man I ever met.”

He laughed softly and pressed another kiss to your temple. The calloused tips of his fingers gently caressed your nipples, which were slowly hardening under his touch. A tremor ran through your entire body. "Kiss me," you demanded, and not a second later he complied. The soft brush of his lips against yours, the silent lapping of water, you satisfied hum of approval.

He continued to massage your breasts, played with your nipples, rolling them between thumb and index finger, pulling them slightly. You groaned in his mouth, enjoying his touch. Bruno was the perfect mixture of gentle and passionate. You pressed your upper body towards his hands, but never released the kiss. You wanted to take your time, delay the inevitable until your body was a trembling mess and you begged for more. You could already feel the heat rising to your cheeks, your body reacting to his touch.

Bruno licked your lower lip, silently asking for entrance, which you willingly gave him. With one hand he continued to play with your breasts, the other caressed down, over your belly, stroking your inner thighs. You opened your legs, hinting at the place where you needed him most. He released the kiss. "May I?" Even now he asked for your permission. Breathing heavily, you looked up at him, then nodded.

Feathery touches, gentle circles - two fingers run over your wet folds, eliciting a soft groan. "You sound wonderful, Amore. Tell me how it feels." You wanted to answer, but he pulled at your nipple. You flinched, looked at him rebuking out of the corner of your eye. A throaty laugh, an apologetic kiss on your cheek, your shoulder. His finger slowly pushing inside.

Again, you moaned his name and Bruno hummed in your ear. "Just like that. Moan for me." He began to rub the finger across your walls, circling them inside you before filling you with another. Breathing heavily, you closed your eyes and concentrated on the sensations. Warm breath hit the sensitive skin of your neck. Bruno's tongue licked across your pulse and you felt his cock harden against your ass.

"You taste so good." If his fingers weren't relentlessly pushing inside of you, rubbing over sensitive walls, you may have laughed. Now all you could do was moan for him. Your legs trembled, sometimes squeezing around his arm, pulling him closer, wanting, needing more. Your body was burning, the warm water around you felt cold on your heated skin.

As he rubbed over the one-point deep inside you, you threw your head back, moaning his name. Even through lidded eyes, you could see him smile down at you. "Found it." One hand continued to massage your breasts, the other only picked up speed. Calloused fingertips rubbed across your walls, pressing against that one spot over and over again. He was so gentle and yet he managed to turn you into a moaning mess.

Your hip twitched forward, stuttered against his hand. “Bruno, I need to cum. Please.” Only then did he stop playing with your breasts and stroke down with the second hand as well. Two fingers started to caress your clitoris, grinding the little bundle of nerves, while he continued to rub over your g-spot. Your orgasm built up, your whole body started to cramp. A knot forming in your abdomen. It was Bruno's dark voice that gave you the final push.

"Come for me," he whispered into your ear and kissed your cheek. One last time he simultaneously rubbed your clitoris and the point deep inside you, taking your breath away as your orgasm washed over you with full force. It had been so long since you last shared this high with him. You screamed his name, pressed your thighs together around his hands. You wanted to pull him even closer and away from you at the same time. Your skin was too sensitive. Every touch sent electric shocks down your spine.

Only when you sank against his chest, slightly trembling and tired, did he pull his hands back and hug you instead. Gentle kisses moved across your shoulders. Still half-dazed you felt his erection pressing against your ass, but you could only order your thoughts after the pleasant afterglow of your orgasm had disappeared. Slowly, you turned around and looked at him, smiling. "If you help me to stand and to your bedroom, we can continue this in bed."

Later that night, neither of you was able to sleep. Undisturbed, you could make up for all the time you'd lost.

Chapter Text

During your time at university, you met Noriaki Kakyoin. A tall, red-haired man who studied fine arts but pursued a job as an illustrator. You knew at first sight that Noriaki was exactly the type of man you could imagine yourself waking up to in bed. Not just for a night, for every morning to come. As you got to know him better, you realized that he may seem polite at first, but he was sarcastic, brutally honest, and could be snarky if he felt like it. He was also gay. Well, at least that's what you thought when you met his boyfriend Jotaro Kujo - such an imposing man that you didn’t know what to say during your first meeting.

The two were just so open about their feelings for each other. Proudly showing that they were a couple, without letting the world shame them for what they were. But who are you kidding? No one would dare to say a thing about their relationship. Not while a man like Jotaro Kujo was ready to strike each and every homophobe down if they would dare to gaze in his direction. It was refreshing to see such an honest and loving relationship. So you buried your crush on the red-haired artist. Being friends was enough.

Only with a lot of patience and time - and a lot of help from Noriaki - you had been able to form a friendship with Jotaro. You learned so much about their past and even about their abilities. Stories about battles, loss, and adventure. Noriaki and Jotaro's relationship was unusual. At first sight, you would think that Jotaro was in absolute control, he seemed so dominant, but you soon realized that Noriaki kept a tight rein. Jotaro would do anything for Noriaki, while Noriaki was emotional support for a surprisingly emotional Jotaro. A perfect equilibrium, no room for another person.

Now, years later, the three of you were in Morioh. Jotaro was writing his doctoral thesis while he had to deal with some inheritance issues with an unexpected relative. Noriaki had accompanied him because he wanted to gather inspiration for a children's book he was illustrating for. And you? Well, you didn't want your two lovers to travel alone. Jotaro would never admit it, but he didn't cope well with loneliness. And with Noriaki working, someone had to look after Jotaro.

It had taken a long time, but after some back and forth, your initial crush on Noriaki had expanded to Jotaro. You never thought that anything would develop out of it, and yet here you were. Apparently, one more person was missing for the perfect equilibrium.

The last few days you had been strolling with Noriaki through the streets of Morioh, sightseeing landmarks in the new city. One of your personal highlights was the Anjuro Stone, which Noriaki immortalized several times in his sketchbook before you could continue exploring the city. Normally, you would have considered it uninteresting, but with the background story, Josuke told you your opinion changed. It was creepy, to say the least. The idea of being captured inside a stone for all eternity - mentally, you made a note to never annoy Josuke.

After a long day, you often stayed at Josuke's place, playing video games until Tomoko threw you out. Today was no different. It was a weekday and Josuke had to go to school in the morning. When Tomoko sent you home at 8 pm, Jotaro was probably still out gathering information and too early for you and Noriaki to retire to the hotel. So you decided to spend some time in a bar, dawdling the entire evening.

One drink turned to many, early evening turned to midnight. How exactly you had found your way back to the hotel, completely wasted, stumbling through the darkness of night, only guided by street lamps, you did not know. But you could vaguely remember that you had walked arm in arm. Around three o'clock at night you had finally reached the elevator of the hotel and a few minutes later you stumbled giggling into the room. To your surprise, the room was not shrouded in darkness.

With a book in his hand, Jotaro was sitting on an armchair, eyes tired, body tense. As soon as you entered the room, he looked up and let his shoulders sink. He parted his lips to say something but decided against it. Mouth pressing into a thin line and his eyes darting to the side, not looking at you two. In a sober state, you would have noticed that something was bothering him, now, not so much. You just stumbled after Noriaki, who approached Jotaro and sat on his lap.

"You didn't have to wait for us," he slurred and pressed a kiss on Jotaro's cheek. Almost hitting his eye instead. You giggled, amused. Jotaro wrinkled his nose in annoyance. "You are drunk." Such a sober statement, if you weren’t drunk, you would have laughed at the irony of your own thoughts. Noriaki shook his head wildly, his red coil of hair swayed wildly back and forth, you got dizzy watching it. "Make room," you said to Noriaki and sat down on Jotaro's other leg, who only sank further back into the chair and sighed softly.

"Why are you awake?", you asked, snuggling against the warm body. It displeased you that he did not embrace you. Surrounded by his strong arms, you always felt so safe and secure. Loved. You wiggled against him, tried to get him to hug you without using words - absolutely convinced that he can read your mind and knows exactly what you want. But he didn't do it, pushed you away even, and did the same with Noriaki, who had tried to cuddle with Jotaro similar to you.

"It is late, you are drunk. Go to bed." His words were final, and Jotaro got up from his armchair without any problems, with you two in tow. Shortly afterward, you found yourself in bed next to Noriaki and watched Jotaro take off your shoes, first Noriaki’s and then yours. It was a strange feeling, but as soon as your head touched the pillow, you felt the fatigue overwhelm you, your eyes fluttered shut. "Will you come to bed," Noriaki mumbled and stretched out his arms, Jotaro just hummed a soft, "right away," in reply. So Noriaki rolled up to you and pulled you into his arms. Shortly afterward you fell asleep.

Groaning, you opened your eyes. It was dark in the bedroom. Noriaki had released you from his embrace and rolled onto the other side of the bed. Your head throbbed painfully, so it took you some seconds to realize that another person was missing. Without Jotaro, the bed was surprisingly empty. He was missing as a warm pillow between you and Noriaki. Carefully, so you wouldn't throw up, you sat up. As soon as you left the warmth of the blanket, the cold of the night enveloped you.

A short visit to the bath later - rinsing your dry mouth with water, using the toilet -, you stepped into the living room and pressed your eyes shut in surprise. Light flooded the room as soon as you opened the door. Blinking quickly, you dispelled the unpleasant feeling and noticed between clenched eyelids that Jotaro was still sitting in the armchair. Tired, you tried to focus on the clock on the wall. Seven in the morning. It was the perfect time to crawl right back into bed and hide under the covers.

Much too early for Jotaro to be awake. He may be a workaholic, but even he liked to sleep in if he didn't have an appointment early in the morning. "Why are you already awake?" you mumbled, tiredly stumbling over to him. You didn't smell any coffee, unusual for Jotaro. Normally, it was the first thing he did after waking up. Slowly, your eyes got used to the brightness and you scrutinized him. He held no book in his hand, instead, it was a crystal glass. On the side table next to him was a half-emptied bottle of whiskey, and only now did you notice the amber liquid in his glass.

Your mind was still slightly foggy, but even in this state, you knew something was wrong. "Haven't slept yet," he slurred his reply. His voice darker than usual, rough from the hard liquor. Slowly, you approached him, knelt on the floor, and looked up. He met your gaze for just a moment, then turned away, taking the rim of the glass between his lips, only to throw his head back a moment later and swallow the rest of the whiskey in one gulp.

"Hey, hey. Slow down." As Jotaro went to refill the glass, you took his hands in yours. To your relief, he didn't resist but still didn't look at you. "Can you tell me what's going on? Why didn't you come to sleep with us? Did something happen?" You tilted your head in a questioning expression, looking at his usually beautiful blue eyes - now robbed of their spark. For a long time, he remained silent, but you knew he needed time to mull over his words, asking again would only annoy him.

"You weren't home at midnight." His breath smelled of alcohol, his hands in yours trembled slightly, his fingers were so, so cold. "I tried calling, but neither of you answered your phone. So I waited." He'd been worried, and you hadn't heard your phone rung. "Then you came home, drunk, smelling of cheap alcohol." Slowly, Jotaro turned his head toward you. Cold blue eyes scrutinized you, the trembling of his hands stopped. "Why didn't you let me know?" There was no reproach in his voice, only distress, and sorrow.

You wanted to apologize, but Jotaro continued speaking. "I could have come with you." He slumped his shoulders. "You guys are so rarely around anymore. I've only seen you in the evenings for the past week. You're always out together." It took you a while to truly grasp the meaning of his words. Guilt flooded your body and expelled the last bit of alcohol from your bloodstream. You clasped his hands tighter and rose from your kneeling position in front of him.

"I'm sorry. Can you stand up?" Carefully, you pulled on his hands, but he didn't move an inch. Instead, he now looked up at you. Although he was a giant, even while sitting, he suddenly looked so small and helpless. His sad eyes stabbed a dagger into your heart. "There's no room for me in the bed." Now you were confused. "But of course there's room for you. I can stay awake too if you want to spread out a bit. But you need to sleep. Okay?" Jotaro just looked at you silently, then rose, swaying. Even now, while you had to look up at him again, he seemed so defenseless. Only rarely did you see him drunk, so vulnerable and open.

"The first time I saw you, I knew right away that you were in love with Nori." Your heart stopped. "I always assumed he would leave me for you. You were perfect for each other and I never understood what he saw in me." Speechless, you looked up at him, his eyes were on you but he wasn't really seeing you. "But the opposite happened, you joined our relationship. Loved me, as you did him. I never understood how I deserved two people like you. But you're obviously so much better together. You don't need me."

The dagger twisted and turned, as did his voice died toward the end of his sentence. Jotaro rarely talked about his feelings. Yet, for the past few years, you had thought that you knew him. But apparently not. How had you not noticed that he felt so much self-doubt? Why had you overlooked the clear signs up until now? A hiccup escaped Jotaro's throat, his entire body trembled. You wanted to say something, but stopped when you noticed the tears in his eyes.

Slowly, you raised your hand and stroked the tears from the corners of his eyes, your thumb resting against his cheek. "Jojo. Look at me." His pupils focus on you, dilated by the alcohol and the tears. "I'm so incredibly sorry. We've neglected you. There's no excuse for that. But I love you. Nori loves you. We will always love you. There will always be a place for you."

Slowly, he leaned his cheek against your palm and closed his eyes. Then he bent over and rested his full weight against you. He was heavy, yet you hugged him tightly. Never would you let him go. "Can you come to bed with me now? You need to sleep. Please?" He nodded, even though you couldn't see it, you felt the movement of his head. Slowly, you led him into the bedroom and helped him under the blanket.

Gently, you brushed a few strands of black hair back, looking into his tired eyes. "Do you need another glass of water?" He shook his head but grumbled in satisfaction as Noriaki curled up to him and snuggled against his chest. "Do you need space? Do you want me to sleep in the chair?" Jotaro, who had just been playing mindlessly with Noriaki's hair, shook his head. "Lie down with me." Relieved, you crawled into bed beside him and hid under the covers with him. You could sleep so much better with no one missing next to you in bed.

Noriaki sat shivering at the kitchen table, face hidden in his hands. The smell of coffee filled the air, a classic Japanese breakfast sat fully prepared on the table, waiting to be devoured. It was almost two o'clock in the afternoon, Jotaro was still asleep. After waking up and indulging in a shower, you had woken Noriaki and told him about the events of last night. He almost rushed to Jotaro's bed and would have woken him up if you hadn't held him back and suggested something else.

Now you were preparing the last fine touches for breakfast while Noriaki drowned in self-pity. "How did I not notice? I've known him for so long. I thought he would tell me everything?" His voice alternated between sadness and anger. You knew exactly what he was feeling, having experienced it yourself last night. But Noriaki had known Jotaro so much longer, it was probably even more painful for him. Instead of answering his rhetorical questions, you placed a coffee in front of his nose and gently kissed his temple. He still smelled of alcohol.

"I'm almost done. Finish your coffee and we can take everything to the bedroom. Okay?" Noriaki lifted his head and looked at you. His amethyst eyes were blood-shot, his usual smile nowhere to be found. Dark circles under his eyes were conspicuous warning marks of last night. "And maybe a cold shower would do you good." Gently, you stroked his cheek and he buried his face in his palms again, groaning. "Nori. We'll get this fixed. Come on. Coffee, shower, breakfast. For me?" He nodded and followed your request.

Two trays, each with three servings of rice and salmon, pickled vegetables, a miso soup , and fried fish peppered with different spices. It was enough to last for several days and yet barely enough to drown out the guilt gnawing at your soul. Jotaro loved his mother's home-cooked food, so even if you couldn't match Holly's skills in the kitchen, it was still worth a try. Together with Noriaki, you placed the trays on the bed, then crawled back into bed with Jotaro and kissed him awake.

Soft kisses over cheek, forehead, shoulders. Jotaro was a light sleeper, but this time fatigue seemed to have a firm grip on him. Slowly, his eyes fluttered open and tired eyes stared at Kakyoin, then you, and finally the food at the foot of the bed. His gaze wandered to you again. You could see the moment he remembered the previous night and steeled his shoulders. Talking about feelings was not his strong suit. Fight or flight was not an option. He could hurt neither of you and had nowhere to go.

Without further ado, he pulled the blanket over his head and remained silent. Hesitantly, you looked at Noriaki, who shrugged his shoulders helplessly. Usually, he always knew exactly what to say to Jotaro - but this time it was a completely different situation. "Jojo?" he began, placing a hand on the spot where Jotaro's shoulder was presumed to be. "We've got breakfast for you. And coffee. Would you like coffee?" No answer. "May I join you under the covers?" But this time, too, Jotaro remained silent.

Without further ado, Noriaki lifted the blanket and disappeared under the fabric. "Hello, you." His voice was muffled under the fabric. "Let's have breakfast, we prepared so much. Just for you." When Jotaro still decided not to respond, you crawled under the covers as well, snuggling up to Jotaro's back and massaging his tense shoulders. He only tensed up even more. Surprised, you pulled your hands back.

"Jojo," you began softly, "Nori and I took the whole day off. No work, no meetings, no Morioh. Just you, Nori, and me. Breakfast in bed and if you want we'll keep you here all day. Just the three of us." Noriaki nodded and snuggled against Jotaro's chest. "Remember our second semester in college? I dragged you to a party, you hated it, and we were both hungover the next morning. So we spent the entire next day just in bed. Would you like that?"

For the first time, Jotaro gave a response. A deep sigh. He pulled down the covers and finally you could see properly again. "You don't have to do that. I was drunk." He looked at you as if he was disappointed that you had told Noriaki about last night. You quickly sat up and pursed your lips. "Jotaro Kujo. Drunk or not, you had all right to be sad. I'm sorry. Please forgive us. We didn't know you felt that way." Jotaro leaned his back against the headboard of the bed and stared at the ceiling. "Jojo, do you really think there's no place for you in this relationship anymore?"

Noriaki's voice was soft, but he turned Jotaro's face toward him and looked deep into his eyes. "After all these years, do you really think I wouldn't love you anymore? That I don't care about you?" Jotaro's Adam's apple bounced up and down as he swallowed. "I didn't survive Egypt with you only for you to doubt me like this. No matter what I, no, what we did to make you feel this way - let us make it up to you. Please?"

A gentle kiss was exchanged and satisfied, you noticed Jotaro's tense posture relax. As the two released the kiss, you leaned forward as well. Questioningly, you looked at Jotaro, who only nodded, so you stole a gentle kiss from him as well. "You can always tell us anything. I thought we discussed that years ago, Jojo. We understand you, but sometimes you have to tell us things verbally. Please, don't ever torture yourself with those thoughts again."

Jotaro suppressed an eye roll, then nodded - after all, he knew you were right and it was no use for him to hide behind the mask of standoffish-asshole. He might not like to express his feelings, but after all these years he had learned that he could just be himself in this relationship. You and Noriaki accepted him for what he was, with all flaws and bad manners. You noticed his eyes wander to the food at the end of the bed and suppressed a soft laugh. "Hungry?" As if in confirmation, Jotaro's stomach rumbled and a soft blush spread across his cheeks. "Okay then, let's eat."

After a sufficient breakfast and several minutes of cuddling, Jotaro had gone to shower and you and Kakyoin had done the dishes. But instead of letting Jotaro continue to work on his thesis, you were able to lure him back to bed. Even though he grumbled the whole time, both Kakyoin and you knew that he was secretly happy for the attention.

The way your hands stroked his chest while Kakyoin pressed loving kisses to his neck. Each whispered expression of love seemed to relax Jotaro further, until finally, he was lying back in bed, enjoying your touches with his eyes closed. You, pressing your lips to his neck and sucking soft marks into the warm skin. Noriaki, with wandering hands, slowly exploring Jotaro's chest over and over again. He deserved to be pampered and that's exactly what Noriaki and you had planned.

Noriaki was the first to slowly move on. Gentle fingers stroked further down, over the narrow hip, followed the strongly pronounced hip bone, along his crotch, only to come to rest on his inner thighs. So close to Jotaro's face, you could hear clearly how his breath faltered before he exhaled quiveringly. "May we continue, Jojo?" you breathed in his ear, watching his reaction.

The way he looked at Noriaki, trying not to seem too excited, before slowly closing his eyes and nodding. Immediately, Noriaki set to work, stripping Jotaro of his pajama bottoms, which were the only piece of clothing he had put on after his shower before you pulled him back into bed. With a hungry look, you watched Noriaki toss the pants into the room and then lie down between Jotaro's legs. His cock was still soft, but as warm breath hit his member, his whole body trembled. "We're going to spoil you, Jojo. We have all day."

You played with his raven hair and purred in his ear. His reaction was immediate. Goosebumps spread over his neck, his fingers twitched, and played nervously with the blanket. A suppressed moan escaped his full lips and your gaze wandered over his chest down to his legs. Noriaki slowly licked along Jotaro's length before pressing a gentle kiss to his tip. Satisfied, you watched as the cock in Noriaki's hand swelled.

One last kiss against Jotaro's cheek and you crawled down, resting your head on his hip and watching Noriaki lick at the growing arousal in his hand. Soon enough you would help him, but for now, it was enough to just watch. Noriaki returned your gaze and gave you a cheeky grin before taking Jotaro into his mouth and sucking hard, cheeks hollowing. A dark moan filled the room and you claimed your rightful place next to Noriaki, right between Jotaros tights.

Jotaro angled his legs, giving you both more room. You leaned forward and in one fluid motion, Noriaki released the cock from his mouth with a wet 'plop' so he could kiss the tip goodbye and you replaced him, twirling your tongue around the hot glans. "We've always been good at sharing," Noriaki noted, eliciting a hearty laugh from you. "Nori!" you reprimanded him, but instead of answering, he licked over Jotaro's balls, who in return put an arm over his eyes and tried to stifle another loud moan.

You loved to make Jotaro moan. He always tried not to get too loud, so any sound that managed to escape his lips was a direct boost to your ego. Together with Noriaki, you kissed along Jotaro's arousal, sometimes your lips met, which was rewarded with a particularly loud gasp by Jotaro. Sometimes you sucked on his tip, tasting salty drops of precum on your tongue, sometimes it was Noriaki who wrapped his lush lips around the cock of your partner.

Every gasp, however soft, sent endorphins through your entire body, hot spikes of pleasure shot straight between your legs. You wanted more, to feel him, to be filled. Wanted to make Jotaro moan. Apparently, you weren't the only one, because Noriaki straightened up and brushed loose strands of red hair out of his face. "Can you take us both today?" he asked, slowly crawling over Jotaro's body, settling on his hips. Noriaki's perfect butt pressed against Jotaro's fat cock, and you had to stop yourself from slapping your flat hand against the taut skin.

Jotaro growled in response, but that didn't seem to be enough of an answer for Noriaki. "Use your words, Jojo. We can't read minds, remember?" Jotaro pursed his lips as you chuckled. However, both you and Noriaki gasped in shock as Jotaro spun with the red-haired man and came to rest over him. "Shut it, you brat." Nori moaned in satisfaction and lifted his hips a little, grinding against his lover. "Hmm, yes. Talk dirty to me, push me around. I like that.” You suppress a chuckle. Noriaki might look like the nice boy-next-door, but his sarcastic remarks always proved otherwise.

"Shut up, Nori." The harsh rumble sent pleasant shivers down your spine. You knelt beside the two and pressed your thighs together. The little bit of friction eased the heat in your abdomen, but it was still far from enough. Jotaro's hand slipped under the elastic waistband of Noriaki's pajama pants and disappeared between his legs. He raised a dark eyebrow. Noriaki just grinned and pushed his hips further against his touch. "Surprised? Well, we've been awake a little longer than you have. I’ve prepared just for you."

Jotaro's look was expressionless, then the corner of his mouth twitched up just a midge. "You want me to fuck you, Nori?" Your body responded to Jotaro's dark voice, though the question wasn't even directed at you. Noriaki groaned in satisfaction. "Yes," he replied, thrusting his hips upward again. The outline of his erection clearly visible in his pants. Jotaro growled, pleased with the answer, but shook his head. "Not today."

Noriaki pursed his lips in dissatisfaction, he hated it when things didn’t go his way. It rarely happened, Jotaro was very eager to fulfill your wishes. But not today, and Noriaki knew better than to complain and clamor. Instead, Jotaro suddenly turned his gaze to you, "Take off your clothes." Satisfied that you hadn't been forgotten - even though watching could be a lot of fun - you quickly began to change out of your sleeping clothes.

Looking back at your two partners, you licked over dry lips. Noriaki was now also undressed, holding his arousal in his hand and slowly rubbing it up and down. Jotaro looked to you, his gaze slowly moving over your chest, down to your thighs. "Come here." He held out his hand and no sooner had you grasped it than he pulled you to him. You exchanged a brief kiss before he helped you saddle Noriaki's hip. What was he up to?

It was rare that Jotaro took the initiative, but you were all the more excited to see the result. The way he moved you, pushed you into the right position until you were sitting on Noriaki, and he slowly penetrated you. It was unusual but exciting. You and Noriaki had originally wanted to pleasure him, but Jotaro thwarted your plans in no time. A strong hand pressed between your shoulder blades and pushed you down against Noriaki's chest.

You knew this position. The first few times had taken some practice, but by now you were a well-rehearsed team. Panting, you angled your hips forward, turning your head to look at Jotaro over your shoulders. A finger wandered over your labia, rubbing the spot where you and Noriaki had merged. Together you moaned out and Noriaki pressed his face against your neck. "Fuck, Jojo, get on with it," he demanded.

An amused chuckle was the only answer you got. The finger disappeared and your entire body trembled as Jotaro’s cock replaced it. With gentle movements, he pushed inside, pressing himself right next to Noriaki's cock. It stretched you uncomfortable, but it never crossed the line to pain. It was not the first time that the two shared you like this and it would not be the last. Two pairs of hands caressed your body, soothing you as Jotaro continued to push inside. "You're doing good, so good for us," Noriaki murmured against your ear, even as he struggled to catch his own breath.

When Jotaro's hips finally pressed against your ass, his cock filling you completely, you gasped. A mix of content and exhaustion. "So tight," growled Jotaro, who had leaned forward and rested his chin on your other shoulder. Noriaki, on the other hand, was breathing heavily and gently stroking the hair out of your face. "Can we get started? Or do you need some more time to adjust?" he asked quietly, even as his twitching member inside you gave away how much he wanted to keep going.

"Keep going, don't stop," you gasped your answer, rolling your hips back and forth slightly. Both men moaned out, with Noriaki being louder and far more shameless. Jotaro responded immediately, with practice movements he pulled back without slipping out of you, before thrusting right back in. You clawed into the bedspread and the uncomfortable stretch turned into a breathtaking feeling of pleasure. One of your partners alone filled you well enough, but both at the same time? It was almost too much.

"Fuck," you cursed in a trembling voice, only able to push yourself against Jotaro's hard thrusts. Too much movement and one of them would slip out of you. Every little movement, every twitch, every thrust pushed the air right out of your lungs. You could only imagine how good it must feel for the two of them - not only feeling your velvety walls stretch around them, but each other's hard arousal rubbing together as well.

Jotaro breathed rolled hotly over your neck, his weight pressing against your back as he thrust relentlessly into you. His hands gripped your hips, but even if he could, he never grabbed you so hard as to leave bruises. No matter how consumed by lust he was, he always had your and Noriaki's wellbeing in mind. Noriaki beneath you could do little but moan your and Jotaro's name, so he reached into your hair and pulled you to his lips for a rough kiss.

Breathing was difficult, pleasure shot like electric shocks from your pussy through your entire body. Both cocks rubbed ceaselessly against your soft walls. You felt your orgasm approach without anyone touching your clit which was already crying for attention, throbbing almost painful between your legs. Moaning against Noriaki's lips, you moved a hand between your bodies, but before you could touch yourself, Jotaro grabbed your wrist and pushed your arms down on the bed.

"Let me do it," he gasped in your ear, and even though it seemed impossible, he began thrusting even faster. Your chest was pressed against Noriaki's, you clawed at the sheets and had to release the kiss in order to fill your lungs with badly needed air. Noriaki's breath brushed across your face, hot, much too hot. "Fuck, Jojo. She's getting so tight. You feel so good."

Jotaro's hand wandered over your belly and a moment later you felt two nimble fingers rubbing over your clit. Your throat was raw from moaning, breathing heavily, you pressed your forehead against Noriaki's shoulder. Your legs trembled under the effort of pressing yourself again and again against Jotaro's thrusts. Both sensations, being filled like this while skilled fingers stimulate your clitoris, brought you to orgasm.

You dug your teeth into the pale skin on Noriaki's neck as the orgasm flooded over you. Neither Jotaro's fingers nor his thrusts stopped. Two cocks continued to rub rough against your walls, sending fiery lava through your veins. Noriaki threw his head back, moaning your name as he reached his high filling you with sticky cum. But Jotaro didn't stop, panting into your ear.

He wasn't one for dirty talk, but the way his cock twitched inside you, the way his fingers clawed deeper into the skin of your hips and his breathing stopped every few thrusts, was much hotter than words could ever be. A few thrusts later he stopped and came deep inside you. His semen mixed with Noriakis and you felt it run out of you.

Rapid breathing filled the room, sweat stood on your forehead and you lay exhausted on Noriaki's chest. Jotaro rolled off your back and fell into bed beside you. Your head was spinning, you heard the two exchange words, but couldn't concentrate enough to truly understand what they were talking about. Strong arms pulled you from Noriaki's body and you found yourself between the two men.

Your eyes fell on Jotaro, black hair sticking out in all directions, cheeks still slightly flushed from exertion, a gentle smile lighting up his otherwise somber features. "Are you okay?", he asked. A soft laugh escaped you. "I'm fantastic." You emphasized each syllable with as much vigor as you could master in your exhausted state. Noriaki chuckled softly as well. "And what about me? Does no one care about my well-being?" Jotaro was already opening his mouth to repeat the question when you raised your voice.

"I don't remember you having two dicks inside you just now." Noriaki's laughter filled the room and he kissed your forehead before leaning in to steal a quick kiss from Jotaro as well. It warmed your heart when you heard Jotaro quietly ask about Noriaki's well-being anyway, and saw Noriaki's grin turn into a fond smile.

"We love you so much. Never forget that, Jotaro." Jotaro decided to stay silent, but his eyes shone treacherously at Noriaki's words. He blinked a few times, then closed his eyelids and hummed in agreement. Something that almost sounded like an "I love you too." You rested your chin on his chest and drew small circles on his arm with one finger. Noriaki pressed against your side and reached for Jotaro's hand.

"We can take you to the bar next time, right?" he suggested, and Jotaro groaned in annoyance. "I don't go to bars. Too many drunks." Then he closed his eyes and added more quietly, "Just let me know if you're running late." Sometimes you had to read between the lines to understand Jotaro. Never again, you promised yourself, would you allow him to develop such self-doubts.

Chapter Text

When the blood kisses the ink
When the pain embraces the flesh
I show my skin
Pictures, so familiar to me
Tattoo - Rammstein

Your first time having sex hadn't been nearly as exciting as your first tattoo. The moment a needle pierces the skin, pain radiating from that very spot through your entire body, the rising adrenaline, the slight dizziness before the pain gives way to an unpleasant throbbing - it's addictive. You felt absolutely focused and awake, but at the same time spaced out and mazed. Alive. Like an out of body experience.

The first artist to grace your skin with jet black ink was Risotto Nero. A local shop owner in your hometown, known for his incredibly clean linework and monochromatic pieces. So many shades of black and gray, no colors to be found. He had other employees for the colorful stuff.

Shortly after your first tattoo, you had moved away and turned your newfound passion into a career. Years later you would see him again, but you never forgot your first.



There were only a few inkless spots left on your body. Sometimes it was hard to believe that a small decision in teenage years could lead to something like this. A tattoo evolved to a life as a model. It was hard work, even if most people believed it was just “smiling pretty into a camera”. Long trips, irregular working days with more hours than you could count, followed by long lean periods and self-doubt - why weren't you getting any more contracts? And suddenly you were so booked up, the workload was almost crushing you. It was exhausting. It was your passion.

The expectations of tattoo models were most definitely different than other models. The photo shoots usually reflected the readers' interests in an alternative lifestyle. Whether it was bikers squeezed into tight leather jackets, women with a passion for rockabilly fashion, the punk in dark clothes and piercings, or the gothic princess clad in embroidered tulle-dresses - they were all connected by the artworks on their skin. You presented the latest fashion or jewelry, sometimes you posed for companies that wanted to reach a certain target audience. Your body was a commodity and it didn't bother you. It gave you a strange sense of autonomy and independence.

A few months ago you had returned to your hometown during a particularly long period without new contracts, visiting family and old friends. In a snap decision your feet had almost unconsciously led you to the tattoo shop where an artist had laid the foundation for your career - but his store had long since ceased to exist. All of your online searches were in vain. It was a pity, you would have liked to meet Risotto Nero again to tell him about your career and maybe he would have been willing to immortalize another work of art on your skin. Unfortunately, not everything always worked out the way you wanted it to.



Besides the photo shoots themselves, your favorite work was visiting conventions. Here you could meet fans and like-minded people, find new business partners and arrange possible contracts. Though, the latter was mostly done by your manager. In addition, there were always artists from whom you ardently desired a tattoo. Another advantage of being a well-known model in this industry - it was much easier to get an appointment with other artists.

So, after you had done your work for the day - mainly following your manager like a lost puppy while she introduced you to new potential clients, also answering a few questions and handing out autographs to a surprising amount of fans -, you were relieved of your duties and could finally explore the event on your own. While you wandered down the aisles and looked at the various exhibitors, you were stopped every now and then by different kinds of people.

It never failed to amaze you how many people seemed to recognize you at conventions. On the street, while shopping or other public places, you were rarely addressed. Mostly by people who were interested in your tattoos, asked inappropriate questions, and did not know you at all. But in an environment with mostly like-minded people? You couldn't walk ten steps at a time, without someone approaching you for a short selfie or an autograph. Here, almost everyone knew your face and your body. The ink on your skin.

On the one hand the recognition stretched your ego to impossible lengths. Smiling, you took a photo with every fan, signed magazines, t-shirts and in some cases even bodies. You were grateful for the support, for the kind words and compliments. But on the other hand, it was overwhelming and exhausting. While it happened at every convention in the past, you could never get used to it. It took barley an hour before you fled to the backstage area, where all the exhibitors and invited guests could rest between events.

It was sporadically furnished with folding chairs, metal tables, a coffee machine and a refrigerator for drinks and snacks. Some people sat in small groups, but it was rather quiet. Your gaze roamed over everyone present before you focused on a rather tall man sitting at the end of the room by himself. It was always hard to stand out at a tattoo convention. Everyone showed off their body modifications like a peacock its colorful plumage. But he was huge. A behemoth of a man.

Normally, you would have decided against sitting down with a stranger who was having a quiet lunch break. But this was Risotto Nero. Even if he had changed over the years, you recognized him immediately. Of all the places you could have met him - it happened here, today. Maybe it was your lucky day and you should buy yourself a lottery ticket. You approached him and stopped in front of the table, facing him. Without haste he nipped off his black coffee, scrolling on a smartphone in the other hand, before he looked up and stared at you with an indifferent expression.

Deep red eyes, contact lenses he had already worn during the first time you saw him. Though the black eyeball tattoo was a new modification. It added to his imposing appearance. Silver piercings adorned his eyebrows, nose and lips, battling for recognition with his short, silver-white hair. He wore an open white shirt and black leather pants. If there was one thing you found attractive in men, it was self-confidence. And a man who looked like risotto, walked around dressed in black leather in the middle of summer, and tattooed his eyes? That screamed self-confidence. Or childhood trauma. Probably both. But who didn't carry some kind of baggage.

"Risotto Nero, right? May I sit here?" His eyebrows raised minimally and for a brief second, he eyed your body up and down, as if he was surprised that you knew him by name. A terse nod. You sat down and reached your hand across the table in a formal greeting. "You probably don't remember me, but my name is-" you began. Before you could finish your introduction, he interrupted. "I know who you are. I've been working in this industry for years. But how do you know me?"

Still ignoring your outstretched hand, you lowered it and folded it in front of you on the table. "Straight to the point. I like a man who can be straightforward. Taking what he wants", you said with a smirk. He didn't move a muscle, seemingly not interested in your banter. With a sight, you shrugged your shoulders and pushed back the fabric of your clothes, showing a glimpse of skin where his tattoo graced your body. "You did my first tattoo. You're the reason I work in this industry now." He remained quiet, somehow you expected a bigger response. Any response at all, for that matter. But you didn't let him brush you off that easily.

"I've been looking for you for years, but haven't been able to find you anywhere . Well, until now. No matter how much you charge, I need another of your tattoos." For the first time, you got a little reaction from Risotto. A barely noticeable grin, a brief flash of peraly-white teeth. "Straightforward. I like that in women."



As it turned out, Risotto didn't have a booth at the convention himself. He was only there to help out an acquaintance whose co-worker had fallen ill just the day before. Unfortunately, he hadn't had time for you after the lunch break, but his phone number was now saved on your contact list. Over the next few days, a few messages had been exchanged before you met at a café. His schedule was already cramped, while you on the other hand had some time before the next planned photoshoot. Over the course of three meetings, he fleshed out a design exactly to your liking, while you bought him a coffee each time and engaged in various conversations.

Despite his reserved nature, Risotto was a pleasure to talk to. After you found a topic you both enjoyed he could hold a conversation and was far more interesting than some dates you had in the past. Not that meeting a café with Risotto was automatically a date. Though, you wouldn't mind getting to know him better. Risotto was handsome, had similar interests, and was a great artist.

Over the course of the three meetings, you were able to piece together his past. Why he no longer had a studio, why he was untraceable online. Apparently, he had closed his studio after building up a small but loyal circle of clients. Now, as an underground artist, he tattooed only those who had his personal contact info. He hadn't defined exactly who his clientele was, but the vague hints painted a picture of rich and dangerous people. You didn't want to know more than necessary.



As you reached the address he messaged you a day before, you were confused. You had expected some kind of shop, instead you found yourself in front of an apartment complex. Middle class, located in the center of the city, close to downtown. You could hear the noise of a nearby main road, but weren't able to see it. As you skimmed the nameplates next to the door bells, you immediately noticed the handwritten "Nero" on one of them. For a few seconds you hesitated, toying with some dark thoughts. Young model found dead in the apartment of a serial killer. For safety's sake, you texted your manager the address and a time - better safe than sorry - before ringing the doorbell.

About five minutes and hundreds of stairs later, you were standing in Risotto's apartment. Most of the doors were closed, so unfortunately you couldn't see much of the way your host lived. But the hallway was surprisingly bright and normal . You couldn't describe it any other way. Almost like a page out of an Ikea-magazine. Nothing that would suggest someone like Risotto, except maybe the black leather boots next to the door. Risotto himself was dressed in a T-shirt and jeans. Plain, comfortable. You expected something different, but remembering how you dressed in the safety of your own apartment - this was probably normal.

Risotto led you through his living room - even though the furniture was still unremarkable, you could see a personal touch here. There were DVDs and books on some shelves. Horror movies, fantasy books, photo volumes about tattoos and piercings, and artbooks by various artists. On the walls hung a few framed pictures of what you assumed were friends. All of them wore bohemian clothes, flashy hairstyles, and, of course, artistic tattoos. You could remember a few of them, they had worked in Risottos studio before he closed it.

But you couldn't take in your surroundings for long before Risotto led you into the next room. This one was much more reminiscent of the tattoo shops you were used to. Sterile, a couch with soft leather upholstery, a rolling table with various utensils. "Sit down. You can already undress yourself." He turned his back to you and opened some drawers, preparing the table with his tools and various paints.

You undressed, freeing your body from fabric covering the place you wanted your new tattoo to be. While sitting down on the adjustable chair, reminding you of the ones you could find in dental offices, you observed him prepare. First, you looked at his back, the shirt spanning over his broad shoulders, but quickly lost interest. His face was so much more beautiful than his back. Various posters of hardrock and metal bands hung on the wall, along with some photographs of tattoos, never showing the persons’ faces.

"You're a fan of Metallica?" you asked as Risotto pushed the table back towards you and sat down on a stool already adjusted to his height. With a snap he pulled on black latex gloves and nodded. "Some might say they're too old for the genre. I think they still make good music." Professionally, without letting his eyes wander, he cleaned your skin, shaved the area with a disposable razor and transferred his design with a stencil. The spot was perfect for the way his clear linework hugged to your skin. You had chosen the right artist.

Even if you already knew the procedure by heart, watching Risotto work was exciting. "Have you been to one of their concerts yet?" He prepared his machine and once again just nodded absentmindedly as he poured the paints into the appropriate containers. "A few times in the past, nowadays I can’t fit concerts and festivals in my schedule." Warm water followed, so did some ointment and Vaseline. "Well, if you find time in the future, you could take me. I’m sure we could have a lot of fun together." This time Risotto looked up, returning your gaze with a neutral one before continuing his preparations.

Not the reaction you wanted, but a reaction nonetheless. "Are you ready?" Either he didn't like your banter or he wanted to avoid it entirely. For whatever reason. "For you? Always." This time he didn't respond at all. A warm hand rested on your side, as the tattoo gun buzzed to life, the bright hum filling the room. A shiver ran down your spine.

One would think the whole process of getting a tattoo would get easier after the hundredth time - yet, the moment before the needle touches the skin is always the most exciting. One deep inhale, calming your raging nerves, before he starts the first line. Tingling pain, increasing with every second the needle pierces your skin. The first few minutes were pure hell and yet you remained calm, not wanting to make his job any harder than it already was. It took a few minutes before the omnipresent pain turned into a dull throb.

Instead of focusing on the needle, you sought distraction in a conversation. "What happened to your employees after you closed the shop?" He wiped ink and blood from your skin before starting again, drawing one straight black line after the other. "They have found work elsewhere. I do tattoos for them from time to time." You wanted to ask what kind of work, but instead took a deep breath as dizziness flooded over you. Immediately Risotto stopped, years of practice helped him notice your change of behavior.

"Are you alright? Do you need a short break?" A sly grin tugged at the corners of your lips. "Don't worry about me, I'm good at dealing with a little pain." He broke the eye contact first and went back to the task at hand. Focused, ignoring your statement completely. It was hard to understand what he was thinking, you just didn't know him well enough. Was he uncomfortable with your flirting? Was he embarrassed? Maybe he just didn’t care at all. But surely he would tell you to stop if he didn't want any of this. Wouldn't he?

So you decided to stay quiet and let continue his job without another interruption. At least for a while. Pumped full of adrenaline, the pain bled into the background. Every now and then he would wipe blood and ink from your skin before continuing and creating another work of art. You focused on the low buzz of the tattoo gun; on his warm hand pressing against your body; on the white strands of hair that framed his face and emphasized his strong cheekbones. "Are you in a relationship, Risotto?"

He continued to stare intently at his work, yet he replied with a calm voice, "You ask that after flirting with me several times?" So at least he had understood your intentions the first few times. "Well. What can I say? Either you're not interested in me, in women, or in a relationship. Maybe because you're not looking for anyone, or because you already have someone. Or maybe it's because you don't like women in general, or you don't find me attractive." He hummed in response, but didn't let you know what he was thinking.

"But if you don't like me flirting, we can skip this step entirely. Maybe I could ask you out on a date? A coffee shop, a bar, a club? We could also stay here. I don't know exactly what you like, but I'm open for anything ." Your voice got a little darker towards the end, the innuendo was as plain as you could make it. To you, a clear no would suffice, but he, once again, barely gave you an answer. What was going through his head right now? Was he annoyed? Flattered? Was he trying to wring your neck? Maybe stuff your mouth so you would stop talking?

"Tell me to get off your back and I'll stop right now." A quick sideways glance, the buzzing of his tattoo gung began again. You couldn't suppress a grin.



After you had admired his finished work, he spread ointment on the painfully throbbing spot and wrapped it with foil before explaining the aftertreatment. He didn't give you any new information and yet you listened to his dark voice, that raspy roll that sent pleasant shivers down your spine. "Any questions?" Oh, you had a few. What he could do with that hands of his. Could he lower his voice even more? Were there any more piercings you should know of? "None regarding what you just said."

He slowly pulled the latex gloves off his fingers, never averting his eyes off you. Dark red and pitch black. He was so much taller than you. Under his piercing gaze, you felt so exposed, defenseless. Your heartbeat increased. The snap of gloves yanked you out of your thoughts and back into reality. Risotto tossed the disposable gloves into a trash can, then approached you. He was close, you had to crane your head back so you could continue to look him in the eye.

"My payment," he began. Voice darker than it had been a few minutes before. At least that answered one of your questions. Goosebumps appeared all over your body. Oh, his voice was divine. He should sell audio recordings. Dubbing movies for adults. Whisper sweet nothings in your ear, at night in bed, while you slid your hand under the covers and - "250 euros."

Your gaze shot back up to him and your mouth went dry as you noticed his lopsided grin. Slowly, you crooked your head to the side. He knew exactly what his voice was doing to you. The effect he had on you. "Ah, you really know how to torture a woman. You're lucky. I like it." You winked at him jauntily, then went to your bag to pull out your wallet. Of course you'd pay Risotto for his service. The tattoo was absolutely stunning.

When you went to hand him the bills, he gently grabbed your wrist instead of the money. "But I'd still be interested in that date you were talking about. Next Sunday? Dinner?"

"I'll pick the restaurant."

Chapter Text

It was a small town, maybe two hundred inhabitants. There was not much to see. A few inns and bars, a bank, some general stores, a well-known gunsmith. The street between the two rows of houses was made of coarse sand, the buildings were in pristine condition. Despite the rather small population, the town was regularly visited by travelers, as the town was located between two major cities. Whatever business could lure the travelers into such a small town, the inhabitants made their coin from it.

You dismounted your horse and led it to a watering trough while patting the stallion's neck. It was a warm day, the sun burning down mercilessly. Beads of sweat rolled down your forehead and you removed your hat to dab a handkerchief over your skin. You had been riding since dawn and your body ached for some rest, your thighs sore from the constant friction against the saddle. Still, your clothes were in pristine condition. The white blouse had no stains and was neatly tucked into the dark riding pants. The trouser’s legs were wide and imitated a skirt. Your outfit was completed by leather boots and a holster on your belt.

You were not a fine lady nor a woman born into noble society, but your clothes suggested a wealthy background. Not ostentatiously expensive, but classy enough to attract attention. After a quick trip to the general store - buying water and some provisions for the onward journey - you looked down the street and noticed a young man in front of the bank's entrance. He looked annoyed, staring daggers at the one step keeping him from entering the building, since he was sitting in a wheelchair. A new-fangled instrument, but it made the man's life easier without a doubt. Nevertheless, what appeared to be just a small step for you, was an immense obstacle for him.

"Can I help you, sir?" you asked and stopped next to the young man. At this distance, you could examine him more easily. He was slender with hinted muscles under his clothes. Especially his upper body and arms seemed like they could bear his weight without a problem. Blond hair was neatly combed back, with only a few strands hanging in his face. He wore a white shirt with a dark vest and pants. His thighs were covered with a woolen blanket, despite the unbearable heat. You assumed him to be in his early twenties, just like you. Beautiful sea-blue eyes looked up, full lips turned down in discontent. He struggled with an answer, then looked to the side and growled in response, "If you don't mind, ma'am."

Hesitating for just a moment, you pushed the wheelchair up the single step. You had expected it to be difficult, but the large tires made it surprisingly easy. As soon as the wheelchair stood safely on the platform, the man turned to you and smiled. "Thank you. Are you here to visit the bank?" Did you want to? Not really, but the man's smile was disarming and you mirrored his expression all too eagerly. "Not really, but I'd be happy to accompany you. Maybe help you down the step after you finished business inside?" He seemed like he wasn't too fond of needing help. He gritted his teeth and rubbed the back of his neck before he found his smile again. Reaching out his hand for you to accept.

"Johnny Joestar. With whom do I have the pleasure of speaking?" You took his hand and were expecting a short handshake, instead he brought your fingers to his lips and planted a quick kiss on your knuckles. Surprised, you drew your hand back and told him your name before disappearing into the bank together.

Gyro laid face down on a hill not far from said town, overlooking the row of buildings with ease. His chest pressed uncomfortably against the rough ground as he propped himself up on his elbows, looking through some binoculars. He had a good view of the bank and the main street. Beside him in the sand laid a newly bought rifle. Unlike the old shotgun he had called his own before, the rifle could at least shoot straight.

The town was wide awake, people walking from store to store, vanishing inside of buildings to flee the hot summer sun. The bank itself was, fortunately, poorly attended. The last people to enter the building were a lady clad in riding pants and a gentleman sitting in a wheelchair. About ten minutes ago they had disappeared through the doorway. Gyro was nervous, kept looking up and down the street with his binoculars. No law enforcement in sight. That was a good sign, wasn't it? No sooner had he finished the thought than a deafening boom ripped through the air. His gaze immediately focused back to the bank, now enveloped in black smoke.

Still nervous, he looked back and forth between the bank's entrance and the main street. Most of the residents had gone into hiding, but two men with shotguns were coming out of a nearby building. Gyro put aside the binoculars and picked up the rifle. Through the crosshair, he searched for the men - presumably a sheriff and an assistant -, following each of their steps. In his mind, he counted the seconds after the bang. Two minutes.

The two men hid behind a trough for horses opposite the bank, weapons at the ready, and yelled something Gyro couldn't understand. Four minutes. No reaction. Some more yelling, before the sheriff sent the younger man towards the bank. Five minutes. The young man crept to the entrance of the building and tried to aim his gun through the window. Gyro took a deep breath, held it, and fired. Dust swirled up. The bullet had hit right between the feet of the man, who panicked, and took cover. A warning shot. Seven minutes. Gyro scanned the entrance of the bank with his scope, but black smoke was still haying the building.

The two lawmen didn't dare move and stayed in hiding, but Gyro's elevated position gave him a good view over both of them. After what seemed like an interminable ten minutes, three people emerged from smoke. The lady in riding pants was now carrying a shotgun and pointing it at the sheriff, a large sack slung over her shoulder. The gentleman in the wheelchair had two sacks tied to the backrest while a strange man sat on his lap, a gun pointed at his head. A hostage with tears in his eyes. The gentleman jabed the gun against the hostage, who screamed something in return. Probably something along the lines of “Don’t shoot”.

The lady stowed her sack on a horse, the shotgun always pointed at her surroundings. Then she took the other two sacks and tied them on another horse. Twelve minutes. Gyro almost didn't notice the younger man move from his cover and raise his gun. He took aim at the lady. This time Gyro didn’t fire a warning shot. Red mist joined the black smoke in the air. All parties froze for a few seconds, as a body hit the ground. Fifteen minutes. The gentleman hoisted himself on his horse, the hostage in front of him, gun still pressed against his head, while the lady folded up the wheelchair and tied it to her horse.

A total of nineteen minutes had passed before the two rode out the town with their theft. Gyro fired one last warning shot before he packed his things, saddled up and fled the scene as well.

The fire crackled in the background while Gyro pitched the tent. The camp was surrounded by a thick forest, no town in any direction for at least a half hour ride on horseback. A small pond within walking distance was perfect for washing and watering the horses, plus he had heated some water over the fire, boiling it to kill germs. The sun was already setting before he finally - finally! - heard the rhythmic clopping of hoofs. Just to be sure, Gyro drew his pistol, but when he saw Slow Dancer's familiar white coat emerge from in between the trees, he lowered the weapon.

"Johnny," he exclaimed, walking over to the younger man before helping him off his horse without an invitation and setting him on the ground. Johnny put his arms around Gyro's neck as he lifted him. "Is everything alright? Where's the lady?" Gyro winked jauntily, but genuine concern filled his voice. Where were you? The plan was for you and Johnny to ride to your meeting place together . But nothing bad could have happened or Johnny wouldn't be so calm. While Gyro tied Slow Dancer to a tree, Johnny crawled up to the fire and waved his hand dismissively. "She dropped the hostage off in another town, you know how she is."

Yes, that made sense. It was common that you didn't want to leave hostage in the middle of nowhere. The wilderness could be ruthless. Usually, you gave them a few dollars and took them to a town with a train connection so they could go back to wherever they came from. So Gyro relaxed. You were a grown girl, could take good care of yourself. "You weren't followed? Didn't attract any attention?" Johnny turned his head and looked at him, deadpan as ever he replied, "We blew up a bank. You can't get much more attention than that." Before Gyro could specify his question, he heard another pair hoofs approach.

Both men looked up as you rode on your stallion into camp. You jumped out of the saddle and fell into Gyro's outstretched arms, who only lifted you up and spun you around, happy to have you back. "You alright? No body part blown off?" he finally asked with a laugh, kissing your cheek as he set you down. "All fingers are still there where they should be. Legs still working, too." A barking laugh filled the air, looking to the side, you met Johnny’s piercing gaze, but his lips were twisted into an amused grin. "Little minx." Mirroring his expression, you knelt beside Johnny and kissed his cheek. "A title I bear with pride. Did you bring our money back?" Johnny just pointed at Slow Dancer, who was now carrying three bags on her back. Your grin widened. "That must be hundreds of dollars!" 

Planning the robbery had taken a long time. You had been watching stagecoaches for weeks, thinking about which ones you could rob. This had been your livelihood for years and you were good at what you did and even better at hiding from the law after the robbery itself. But eventually you noticed that robbing this specific bank would be so much more lucrative than to rob some small carriages. Why? Well, every few months the bank was used as an interim storage, since there was a money transport between two major cities. And since it was only a small town, no one expected a robbery. A perfect target for the three of you.

"You were inside for far too long. If any more officers had shown up, I wouldn't have been able to help you," Gyro said, visibly upset that you hadn't kept to the plan. Johnny and you exchanged a silent gaze before turning back to the fire. "Speaking of helping," you began, completely ignoring his previous statement, "Are you okay? You didn't want - anyone to die." You didn’t want to use the word kill, but Gyro understood nonetheless. He slumped his shoulders, but then sat down next to Johnny. "He had a gun on you. I had no other choice."

No one said anything for a few heartbeats, then you leaned over and pulled Gyro to you by the back of his neck, stealing a gentle kiss. Lacing your fingers through his soft, long hair, you smiled at him. "Thank you. You saved my life." Of course, you had all killed in the past. With your lifestyle there was no way around killing - but if you did, it was always in self-defense. Especially Gyro, who, for various reasons, always tried to save all lives worth saving. Gyro nodded and was about to kiss you once more as Johnny raised his arms as if to form a wall between you. "Not while I'm sitting between you." With that, Johnny turned to you and pulled you to his side. "But I must say, your getup as a noble lady wasn't half bad."

Laughing, you threw your head back, before sitting up and clasping your hands over your lap. "Oh, thank you sir, it was an honor to visit the bank with you." Gyro and Johnny both grinned in response. "You're a below-average robber but I can see you on the grand stage," Gyro said, his voice dripping with sarcasm. You just shrugged your shoulders. "Well, I'd rather be a below-average robber with you two idiots than alone in the spotlight. I won't let my fame go to my head." Gyro grinned stupidly at your answer, showing off his golden grills, while Johnny rolled his eyes but even he couldn't help smiling.

Admittedly, your performance hadn’t been a part of your plan. It had been just a fun addition: blending in with the ordinary folk, entering a bank in broad daylight without being noticed - especially in your rather wealthy attire. Hidden under Johnny's blanket on the wheelchair had been a few guns and explosives. Some would say a sloppy and stupid appraoch to rob a bank, but by your standards, this had been an extremely sophisticated plan. Usually, you relied more on brute force than your wits. But Fortuna had been on your side and in the end your risk had paid off. "We'll have to count the money tomorrow. I want to know exactly how much we have."

You lay down in the dirt and looked along the tree branches up into the dark night sky. The first stars were already shining in the firmament. "What are you going to buy? I'd like to go to a decent bathhouse, rub off some of this old grime. Always bathing in cold rivers gets old fast." Johnny lay down next to you, following your gaze. "That sounds like a good plan. I'll join you on that one. If you can fit me with you in that bathtub" Gyro remained seated by the fire, staring absentmindedly at the ember. His blond hair seemed almost fiery-red in the blinding light of the flames. You wanted to reach out and comb your fingers through the spun gold.

"I'd buy a house. No, a ranch. For horses. And the house would have enough room for the three of us to settle down. We'd make money raising horses and could live in peace without worry. Just the three of us. And the horses."

Not for the first time today, you and Johnny exchanged knowing looks. Once in a blue moon - every time Gyro mourned some of his actions -, he spoke of a peaceful future. Neither Johnny nor you said anything until you sat up and hugged Gyro from behind. He was afraid for all of you, scared that one day one of your robberies would go south. More than once one of you had escaped death by a hair's breadth, but no matter if broken bone or bullet wound, all of you had survived in the end. Eventually, you would settle down, but it was too soon for that. Neither you nor Johnny were ready to give up your lives as outlaws.

"A ranch does sound nice. Someday we should do that." You pressed a soft kiss to his neck and felt Gyro relax under your touch. All you wanted was to see him smile. "But maybe you should wish for a warm bath first. You stink." When he turned to you, his golden hair swirled through the air. Before you knew it, you were pushed on your back again, Johnny beside you, Gyro above you. "You're so cocky today! All the money got to your head after all!" Laughing, you wrapped your arms around his body, pulling him into a tight hug. Someday you would talk about your future together, just not today.

Today you would rather spend the evening looking up at the starry sky. Talking about dreams and wishes, lighthearted, gleeful, content. Gold-plated horseshoes for your faithful animal companions; new kinds of fruit that rich people imported by ship; tickets to one of those operas with the singing divas. Gyro even suggested new grills for him but also for Johnny and you. "Wedding rings for the teeth, nyoho!" Both Johnny and you were not so enthusiastic about the idea. Still, your heart jumped a little as he suggested something like a wedding.

Suddenly, settling down did sound so much more tempting. But for that to work, fortuna had to protect you a while longer. Days later you should find the first wanted posters in a small town. A hefty sum to whoever brought you in alive. Significantly less for your lifeless bodies. You had been wanted criminals before, but your last heist had made you famous. The ranch would remain a dream for some more time.

Chapter Text

Heavy and cold, the soaked fabric clung to her skin. Each icy raindrop was like a pinprick on her face. Wet hair stuck to her forehead, but she kept running. Before she could even reach the intersection, a hand clasped around her upper arm. Long-limbed fingers gripped tightly, pulling her body against a warm chest. Tenmei. Did he follow her? Despite the freezing autumn rain?

Before she could put her confusion into words, two strong arms wrapped around her body, promising safety and protection. Soft lips pressed against hers. At first she tried to pull out of his embrace, but soon she was pressed against his larger body, enjoying the warmth, the embrace, his kiss.

After what felt like forever, mere seconds that just won't pass, Tenmei leaned back slightly. She caught herself following his movement, tasting his lips a moment longer before he released the kiss. She kept her eyes closed, but when she finally got herself to look at him, her heart tripped. A smile so full of desperate devotion.

He opened his full lips and shouted the words over the loud rumble of the thunderstorm. "Sniper, I-"

Groaning, you locked the screen of your phone and threw the device somewhere next to you on the mattress, then turned over in your bed and buried your face in a pillow. It was late and yet you couldn't sleep. Not when you'd been staring spellbound at the little phone screen for hours, devouring one fanfiction after another.

Enemies to Lovers, Slow Burn, Mutual Pining, Dorks in Love, Drama, Fluff, Love Confessions, 100k Words - All that and more promised the tags a few hours ago and the story did deliver.

Your eyes burned and yet sleep would not come. A barely audible voice in the back of your head whispered "of course you can't sleep if you stare at your phone all night" but you ignored it. Instead, you sat up, fumbling along your blanket in the darkness before feeling the previously discarded phone between your fingers.

You didn't want to read those three words. It felt wrong. While you weren't the person who put those words in Fanfiction-Tenmei's mouth - which in this case was an author with the wonderful name SnipersStrapon - it didn't change the fact that you would love to hear him say those words out loud.

As you unlocked the screen, you closed AO3, only to spend several minutes switching between various social networks. With your burner account, you lurked in the shadows of the Cherry Bullet fandom - the community-invented shipping name for you and Tenmei. Apparently, the fans had unanimously decided that a mix of your two names would sound terrible. Instead, they had chosen Bullet for you and Cherry for Noriaki. Probably because of his flaming red hair and because he had mentioned his sweet tooth for cherries at some point in the past. You thought the name was cute.

With a small smile on your lips, you thoughtlessly scrolled through various posts. Out of context screenshots from your streams that made you seem like a couple; montages of him giving you cute nicknames; headcanons to various situations. And fanart. An endless amount of fantastic drawings.

Noriaki and you, dressed in outfits of different video game characters. Noriaki and you, laughing together. Noriaki and you, warm and protected in each other's arms. The fans were still especially fond of the situation from your first shared stream, in which you fell asleep next to him on the bed.

For almost a whole year now, you were pining for Noriaki. If only you had the slightest inkling that he might have feelings for you besides friendship, you would make the first move. Really, you would! But all he ever gave you was this absolutely stunning smile. That kind of smile he reserved for people he liked and his fans. You were good friends, nothing more.

You stopped scrolling. You knew Noriaki was good looking, but the drawn image that now filled your screen was an absolute thirst trap - and it worked. You couldn't take your eyes off the picture.

A deep blue sea, fading into the slightly lighter sky at the horizon. Right in the middle stood Noriaki, frozen in motion, as if he was walking straight out of the picture, directly toward the viewer. Water was running over his lean muscles - he definitely wasn't that muscular in real life, but you wouldn't complain about the lack of realism in this regard - and one hand was buried in his red hair, brushing the wet strands from his forehead.

A quick double-click let the artist know how much you liked the image. And a few seconds later, you had written a very raunchy mix of emoji in the comments before plugging your phone into the charger and finally putting it aside for good. It was late enough. Sleep should come soon enough.

It wasn't the first time Kakyoin had woken up in the morning, only to become the center of a new trend that dominated every social media site for a few hours before disappearing again the very next day. Last time, however, he had caused the situation himself. Now he was just confused.

For almost fifteen minutes he had been lying in bed staring at his phone, trying to figure out what the hell had happened that night that had caused so many people to mention him in various posts. Had he said something in his stream last night that had attracted so much attention? But then why did you keep getting tagged in everything?

Apparently Kakyoin wasn't the only confused person, as there had already been some attempts at an explanation by fans for fans. But everything he read sounded like a lie. It was impossible. But the screenshots at the end of most posts were proof enough. Kakyoin was used to the uncomfortably sexualized fanart of himself but not to his good friend and secret crush using her verified account to comment under those pictures.

With any other person he would have laughed, dismissed it as a joke between friends. But no matter how well you and Kakyoin got along, you had never shared any sexual jokes with him. This was extremely unusual behavior for you. Still, hope stirred deep within him. Maybe, just maybe, you were more interested in Kakyoin than he thought? Or someone had faked those screenshots to stir up unnecessary drama. That would be more likely, wouldn't it?

No sooner did he realize the magnitude of this situation than he jumped up and ran out of his room, still in his pajamas. Jotaro was standing in the kitchen, making breakfast. Sliddering on the smooth kitchen tiles with his fluffy socks, Kakyoin came to a stop next to his roommate and best friend, shoving the cell phone in his face. "What does this mean? Help me!"

A displeased grumble escaped Jotaro's chest and he pushed Kakyoin's hand aside, taking a step back to put some distance between himself and the smaller man. As always, Jotaro hated physical contact and eyed Kakyoin with a look that promised pain and death should he ever again decide to put his hands anywhere near his face. But Kakyoin knew Jotaro well, knew that he could always rely on his friend in an emergency.

So he put the cell phone on the kitchen counter and pointed to the screen. Suspiciously, Jotaro took the device in his hand, reading for a few seconds before rolling his eyes so hard that Kakyoin felt personally attacked. This was serious! Why was Jotaro being so typically Jotaro again?

"Tell me what this means, what I should do? Why is she looking at pictures like this and commenting - commenting like this?" Wildly flailing, Kakyoin pointed at his cell phone in Jotaro's hands. Normally, Kakyoin was calm and collected. But now he started to overthink and needed help from his best friend. What was he going to do? Should he do anything at all?

Jotaro just grumbled his usual catchphrase and put the phone back on the kitchen counter. "You're an idiot."

Kakyoin knew he would lose in a fistfight with Jotaro - that didn't change the fact that he was this close to punch him square in his stupid, brutish face. He deserved it. So Kakyoin took a deep breath in through his nose and out through his mouth, trying to calm himself. "What do you mean?"

"Everyone knows you two have a crush on each other, except for you two. Just ask her out and leave me alone." The words were harsh, and yet Kakyoin knew Jotaro cared for him behind that rough exterior of his. If he really didn't care about Kakyoin's problems, he simply wouldn't have said anything. This was simply Jotaro's way of helping and being there for his friend.

But before Kakyoin could ask, Jotaro turned back to the stove and continued to tend to breakfast. The conversation was over. Kakyoin's shoulders slumped in shock, then he looked at the screenshot again. Asking her out, huh? Should he really risk that?

Loud knocking at your door woke you from your dreamless sleep. Tired, you looked at your phone and realized that you had overheard your alarm clock. You were way too late for your second lecture of the day. Your nightly excursions into the Cherry Bullet fandom were taking over your life. A few missed messages showed up as well, but you would deal with those later.

Sleepily, you peeled yourself out of your covers, called out to the person outside your door that you'd be right there, and quickly threw on a t-shirt and sweatpants from the day before. Your fatigue was gone as soon as you opened the door and Noriaki stood in front of you. His chest was rising and falling rapidly, as if he had been running up the stairs. His face was about the same color as his hair. Was it the exertion from running or something else?

"Nori?" You could only utter his name under your breath, confused due to his unexpected visit, before he entered your apartment. Though he asked if he could come in, he didn't wait for your answer. You closed the door behind him. "Why are you here? Don't you have lectures today?"

Noriaki was nervously moving from one leg to the other, shifting his weight every time he moved. Something was bothering him, that you could see from the way he acted. But what happened? His movements stopped and he looked up and into your eyes, gathering the courage to speak. "I have to be honest, I'm a little confused and don’t know how to ask this. So I’m doing it straight forward. Was the comment under the picture a joke or were you being serious? I'm not sure how to react."

He was confused? In your half-asleep state, you didn't even know what he was talking about. Frowning, you leaned your head to the side and asked: "What picture? Nori, I don't know what you're talking about."

Several times Noriaki started to speak, but he couldn't seem to find the right words. He opened and closed his mouth repeatedly, looking almost like a fish out of water. After a few silent seconds he fished his cell phone out of his pocket, typed something on it before showing you a screenshot. You had to look twice before your eyes widened in shock.

Oh no. No, no no. You were sure you had used your burner account yesterday, yet here was your comment, posted with your verified Sniper account. What on earth had you done? Ashamed, you pressed your face into your palms, avoiding his questioning gaze.

Your thoughts ran amok. How should you answer him? Lie? Say it was a joke? Maybe claim that a friend had taken your phone? No, that was childish and he wouldn't believe it. But the alternative was - the truth. How would he react to that? Would you destroy your friendship? He had said before that he didn't know how to react to this situation.

Softly, almost tenderly, he spoke your name. But as you didn't respond, he gently grasped your wrists and pulled your arms down so he could look you in the eye. His face was still flushed but he seemed a little calmer than before. He nibbled nervously on his lower lip, a small sign that he was uncomfortable, too. Still, you were glad he kept talking.

"Can you please tell me what this means? I've been racking my brain about it since I woke up this morning. I need to know." The concern in his voice, the honesty, the hope - hope for what? -, helped you find the courage to answer. You just had to tell him. If you didn't say it now, you would never.

"I thought I was using my private account. I don't know what to say, Nori. I didn't mean to make you uncomfortable. It's a flattering drawing of you and -" The words stuck in your throat. God, this was so embarrassing. You couldn't name a second person who had ever been in that situation. Who had a famous friend and could say of themself, that they commented on a raunchy drawing of them with even raunchier emojis?

You slumped your shoulders. "Nori. I know we're good friends and I want us to stay that way. But I-" your voice failed again and you cleared your throat, "Man, this is so embarrassing. Nori, I've liked you for a while now and if you're even a little interested in me, I'd love to go on a date with you. If you would like to, that is."

You couldn't manage to look him in the eye, staring vehemently at your feet. Noriaki still had your wrists in his hand while he took a step forward and stopped right in front of you. Swallowing hard, you looked up, the sudden proximity only firing up your anxiety. His face was so close to yours, you could feel his breath on your cheeks. He whispered something that sounded suspiciously like, "Go on a date with me", But even at that distance, you could barely understand it.

His blush had risen to the tips of his ears, tinting them in a cute red blush, yet he sought your gaze, leaning toward you, giving you time to lean back if you wanted to. You didn’t. His eyes kept darting down, examining your lips, before he looked up again. "I'd like to kiss you now. May I kiss you?" he asked, his lips hovering mere inches from yours. All tension left your body with an incredulous laugh. He really had to ask? Without warning, you wrapped your arms around his neck, then pulled him down and pressed your lips to his.

It was far shot from the best kiss you ever had. Still, something flared up deep inside you. For so long you had longed for this moment, imagining it in your mind and reading hundreds of stories about how perfect it would be. You should be disappointed, but the opposite happened. It felt real. How he opened his mouth too wide. How the size difference led to a weird posture from both of you. How he awkwardly matched your movements and wasn't sure where to place his hands.

The kiss was inexperienced, but beautiful. As you pulled away from him, Kakyoin was still hovering over you and you kept your hands behind his neck. Almost as if you were both hoping the other would initiate another kiss. He was dark red in the face, you were warm, your breathing rapid. There was so much you wanted to say to him, but you didn't know where to begin.

"May I kiss you again?" But this time he didn't wait for your response, instead he leaned down and captured your lips in another kiss. It was different from the first time. This kiss felt more like the way romantic stories always described kissing. Like two puzzle pieces fitting together just right; Like your bodys melted together because they were made for one another; Like your colors were blending and creating a perfect combination.

His hands rested on your hips, never wandering too low. Your fingers played with the soft hairs on the back of his neck. His lips pressed softly against yours, moving to match your rhythm. Several times you released the kiss, only to lock lips again moments later.

"We should still talk," he said between kisses. Each time you pulled him down, he surrendered to your silent demand with a smile on his face. You just hummed in agreement. "I still have to tell you how I feel," he continued to speak. This time you had to smile, but only kissed him again. Playful, satisfied.

Who would have thought that some emojis commented under some fanart could trigger this? For so long you had pined for Kakyoin, and a little accident had brought you together. "I'll be happy to listen to anything you have to say later," you murmured lightly against his lips. "But now I wish for more of this."

And you kissed him again.

Chapter Text

You had been at princess Erina’s side all her life. From childhood on, you had been her personal maid. You had brought her food, helped her dress, and prepared the baths. Even as a child you were taught that you should never look directly at her. You were not worthy enough to meet the gaze of royalty. But as soon as you were alone with the young princess for the first time, she asked for your name and smiled at you. It took her months to gain your trust with gentle words and promises of safety behind closed chamber doors. You expected punishment every time you met her eyes, but nothing ever happened.

For everyone at court, you were nothing more than a maid. For Erina, you were the only person with whom she could openly talk about feelings. The only real friend she ever had growing up. Within the four cold walls of her chamber you learned more about each other than anyone else. You had calmed her panic when she had woken up in a pool of her own blood after her first menstruation. You had dried her tears when she developed her first crush she could never act upon. You had held her in your arms after her father announced her engagement to a prince she didn’t yet knew.

You shared the first sip of wine after you stole it from the kitchen. She taught you to read and write even though it was not befitting a woman of your birth. You talked about literature, science, and politics when you were sure no one could eavesdrop. Under the pretense of practicing for your future husbands, you shared your kiss in the safety of the night. One kiss turned into many, many turned into a night of more. Early on, your platonic love developed into a romantic relationship. Even back then you knew that Erina could never truly be your partner. Two women in a relationship was already unthinkable, but a future queen and her maid? You would lose your head faster than Erina could beg her father for your life.

From the beginning, your love was doomed to exist in the shadows of the castle walls, hiding behind the hedges in the garden. Locked away within the four walls of Erina's chamber.

But after Erina's wedding, after her coronation as queen, there was no longer a safe place for you to hide together. Now she shared her bed with an unfamiliar man. Every day you had to watch her drift further out of your reach.

It would have been easy to hate king Jonathan if he had been a bad man. But he treated Erina like a goddess, giving her everything she craved, allowing her all the freedom she desired. No woman, not even the queens before her, had ever enjoyed as many rights as Erina. King Jonathan was an honorable, diplomatic monarch. His people loved him and with each passing day you could see Erina forget her initial qualms and begin to fall in love with her husband.

You were happy for her. She deserved a good husband. A king who could give her all the riches she deserved. You were just a woman with no possessions, no influence. A woman painfully in love with one of the few people she could never be with.

It was unusual for Erina to call you to her chamber so late in the evening. Since her marriage, you were rarely needed for undressing. Although king Jonathan had no idea how to lace a corset in the morning, like most men he knew how to untie it before bed. Jealousy flared deep within you, all-consuming flames. You longed to be the one who freed Erina of her clothes in the evening only to fall into bed with her.

You knocked on the heavy wooden door and waited for permission to enter. It was hard to surprise you. For years, you had to fulfill chores under pressure. You had become accustomed to expecting the unthinkable. But as soon as you opened the door to the royal chamber, your heart began to race.

The royal couple was sitting at a heavy wooden table next to the bed. A third chair stood between them. You had expected the queen, not the king. Of course, it was his chamber too, but normally Erina only called for you when he was not present. Hastily, you wanted to bow, but Erina only raised a hand, stopping you in mid-motion. Your name rolled over her wonderful pink lips. "Please sit."

Your eyes darted to the king who smiled at you almost as warmly as Erina. Still, your heart pounded so hard against your ribs, you were afraid it would leapt out of your chest. What was going on here? Hesitantly, you took a few steps forward before settling down on the chair that had been pulled forward.

"My queen, may I ask for an explanation?" Words you would never have asked her in front of others. You were not allowed to ask why. But apparently King Jonathan knew what Erina wanted to talk to you about. Why else would he be here? You had never been so close to him. Even sitting down, he was ginormous. How could a person seem both, perfectly peaceful as well as unnervingly intimidating?

"My husband and I have talked a lot about the past in the last few months. About you." Erina reached out her hand. Delicate fingers danced across your cheek, caressed your lips. "I missed you."

She leaned over the table, kissed your forehead, your nose, and, finally, your lips. You enjoyed her touch, longed for more. The third person in the room was forgotten as soon as her lips touched yours. Greedily, you leaned in - wanting more after such a long time of nothing - but she released the kiss after only a few blissful seconds. There it was again, that warm smile she had graced you with so many nights before. So full of trust, affection, and love. Your eyes snapped to king Jonathan, who was still smiling despite everything he just witnessed.

"I don't understand, my queen" - "Erina. You know you're supposed to call me Erina in private." You swallowed, but nodded. Even though this situation wasn't exactly private. "Erina. Please forgive me, but I don't understand?"

Apparently Erina saw the fear in your eyes, for hers reflected concern. Carefully, she reached for your hand, stroking the back of it soothingly with a thumb.

"I trust Jonathan with my life. So I told him about our past." You gasped softly. Erina's decision could have so easily cost you your head. Her gentle touch calmed you again, but the way she tenderly spoke your name made you forget your mortal fear.

"I love him and he loves me. It didn't bother him. On the contrary, he understood how important you are to me. That my love for you didn't just disappear after our wedding. We want to make you an offer."

You barely had time to process her confession, as she continued. With your hand in hers, she held your gaze as she spoke, "We want you to share our bed with us."

You choked on your own saliva and began to cough. This couldn’t be true. Your brain had played a trick on you, only made it seem like Erina had just offered you your innermost desires on a silver platter. For so long you had wished for nothing more than to lie next to her. To share long nights of ecstasy with her before you would fall asleep arm in arm.

Another body crept into your imagination. King Joestar between you, beside you, above you. You had never thought about a man like this before. Were you even interested in him? Slowly you turned your gaze in his direction. He was a handsome man, there was no denying it.

"And king Joestar doesn't mind?" you asked meekly, addressing Erina, your gaze still on Jonathan. But it was not she who answered. It was the first time you heard his voice. Deep, velvety soft.

"It would be an honor."

It wasn't until a few days later that you found yourself back in the royal chamber. The room was dark, lit only by the blue flames of a few candles, floating weightlessly through the air, charmed to never reach the end of the wick. You could have marveled at the beauty of this moment if there wasn’t something more beautiful catching your eyes.

Erina sat at the foot of a large double bed, legs elegantly crossed. From the moment you entered the room, her gaze was fixed on you, scrutinizing. She was clad only in a delicate, almost see-through white nightgown, her blonde hair falling in gentle waves over her bare shoulders. She was a picture for the gods and you would have been more than willing to spend hours on your knees, worshiping your queen between her legs, if it weren't for the other person in the room.

During a walk in the garden a few days ago, Erina had tried to explain what it would mean to share a bed with them. But until tonight you hadn't quite understood what exactly Erina had been trying to say. Now you began to understand.

Your eyes wandered over king Joestar, kneeling on the floor in front of Erina's legs. Naked, with his hands behind his back. His posture was straight, his gaze lowered. Even in this position - submissive and devoted - he was an imposing man. You were convinced he was only kneeling for Erina because he wanted to. You weren't quite sure you understood why, but he seemed to enjoy it in some way. Otherwise he wouldn't comply so easily.

"My queen," you began formally, still trying to save face. But Erina silenced you with one hand, slowly rose and strode towards you. She was small, even for a woman, and yet you had the feeling of shrinking under her gaze. You had never seen her like this. Every step, every movement, was pure dominance. She stopped in front of you and you swallowed. She really wasn't your cute princess anymore. She was a graceful queen.

Gently, she grabbed the back of your neck and pulled you down against her lips. Oh, how much you missed her sweet kisses. Your tense shoulders slumped and you sighed contentedly into the kiss. It was Erina who broke away from you and leaned back. Her smile was slight and yet so full of adoration. It made your heart flutter. You yearned for her.

"You know you're supposed to call me Erina. May I explain what we have planned for today?" she asked and you couldn't get your voice to cooperate. So you nodded in response.

Erina smiled, not averting her gaze. "Jojo. Explain to our guest how to respond to a question properly."

"A full sentence in verbal with no more words than necessary," was King Jonathan's quick explanation.

You swallowed hard, but Erina's warm hand on your cheek soothed you. "You don't understand exactly what it means to share a bed with us. That's why we're here today. You can't make any mistakes today because I haven't explained the rules to you yet. I will answer any questions you may have. We are not going to have sex today. I just want us to get to know each other a little better. The three of us, together. So we can find out if we can feel that magic this way, too."

Soft fingertips caressed over your neck up to the back of your head. Erina pulled you back down into a gentle kiss. Your eyes fluttered shut as soon as you felt the warm breath roll over your lips. Every part of your body touching hers burned with want. Your lips tingled under the pressure of hers. You just knew this was what she meant by magic. It felt too good to be true.

"If at any point tonight you want to stop, you say so immediately and we stop without question." Her gaze fell on Jonathan as if she were silently trying to tell him something. "That goes for everyone in this room."

Then she looked back at you and gently stroked your cheek with her knuckles. "Do you understand?"

At first you just wanted to simply nod, but remembered the king's words. "I understand."

A bright smile stretched across her face, crinkling the corners of her mouth with adorable laughter lines. Her eyes gleamed with satisfaction. "We will take a bath together. It is already prepared. Undress for me," Erina demanded.

It was a clear command, but when you didn't respond immediately, she waited - giving you a choice. You could deny, change your mind, stop this scene and leave the room. Any nervousness you had felt just seconds before was forgotten. You were in control without being in control. It gave you the final push in the right direction. You would never deny Erina a wish, not when you yourself had wished for all this for so long.

With deft fingers, you began to undo the lacing on your back. Your clothes were so much easier to remove than the elegant and intricate fabrics of the royal family. Your corset, dress, petticoat and shoes found a new place on the floor and soon after you found yourself naked in front of the royal couple. Both had their gaze fixed on you. Erina's gaze was full of fire and affection - greed mixed with years of love. King Jonathan, on the other hand, was hard to read.

He seemed ashamed, just trying to look at your face without letting his gaze wander. Every time you tried to meet his gaze, he avoided looking at you. But the prominent erection between his muscular thighs showed how much he liked seeing you. At least you assumed this much.

For several silent seconds, you let your gaze linger on king Jonathan's crotch. You had never seen a naked man before, but you were convinced he was unusually big. It was almost intimidating. Would you ever feel him? You were glad that Erina decided not to have sex today, you weren’t ready for that just yet. Swallowing, you looked up and met Erina's gaze. Her lips were twisted into an amused smirk.

"Jojo, tell us what you think."

Erina reached out a hand and lovingly raked her fingers through the king's black curls before pulling hard on the strands until he looked up and met her gaze. Before he spoke, his pink tongue darted out and wetted his dry lips.

"She is beautiful, my queen." Erina nodded in agreement as her husband spoke. Then she looked at you and tenderly took your hand in hers. She didn’t need to command you to follow her, you understood her intention without words.

She led you to another door, not the one leading to the corridors, but the one to one of the baths. When she came to a stop in front of the door, she turned to Jonathan. "Open the door for us."

King Jonathan rose with an elegance you didn't expect from a man of his stature. The muscles in his thighs tensed and he stood up without removing his hands from his back. In two large strides he crossed the room and opened the door. He lowered his eyes as Erina led you past him.

It was a small room, fully built of gray-brown stone. A few of the magic candles floated in the air, bathing the room in a cold blue glow. In the center was a long and deep pool of water, carved from the hard stone in finest stonemasonry, filled by the natural springs that were located under the castle. Normally, the water would be ice cold, but centuries ago, during the construction of the castle, the royal family instructed the court magicians to enchant the baths to always be pleasantly warm.

Jonathan went down on his knees beside the door. There was a pillow on the floor, as if it wasn’t the first time he had waited for Erina's instruction in that very spot. But when you heard the barely audible rustle of fabric, your gaze snapped back to the queen, just in time to see Erina’s nightgown slip from her shoulders and flutter to the floor. She stepped out of the pool of clothing and descended the steps down into the water.

You looked at her naked body almost in awe. When she was submerged up to her waist, she turned around. Your eyes met and a knowing smile flitted across her lips. You had to fight the heat in your cheeks, feeling caught.

"Come to me," she said, extending a hand to you. Hesitantly, you followed her down the slippery stone steps into the water. Pleasant warmth enveloped you and you waded through the pool toward her before Erina could take your hand.

To your surprise, stairs had been carved into the pool on this side of the bath as well. Erina slowly lowered herself onto one of the steps and instructed you to take a seat between her legs on the step below her.

"You have such beautiful hair," Erina noted in a calm voice, playing with one of your strands. Her long legs encircled your body and although no part of her body touched yours except for her fingers, you had to swallow hard. "May I comb them?"

"That sounds nice," you replied, voice hoarse.

Erina turned to King Jonathan and pointed to a wicker basket in a corner of the room. "Comb, soap, and pitcher."

Jonathan immediately rose and followed the instruction. He took the three items, walked around the pool, and handed them to Erina. You had to turn your head to see Erina press a kiss against his temple and breathe a soft praise into his hair. Somehow, that one moment felt much more intimate than sitting naked between your queen's legs.

As soon as King Jonathan was released and had returned to his pillow, Erina took the pitcher and filled it with water, drenching your hair with it before taking the comb and carefully beginning to untangle the ends.

"What are you thinking about right now?" asked Erina after a few seconds of silence.

Your eyes fell on king Jonathan, who was still kneeling next to the door. The erection between his legs was still prominent. While you couldn't understand what exactly the king liked about being ordered around and serving - he was doing your daily work, voluntarily at that - you could understand very well how one could fall for Erina so easily. After all, you did so long before king Jonathan did.

"I still don't understand how exactly this is supposed to work," you finally replied. Voice soft, careful.

"I was expecting this to be like before. That we would have-" you interrupted yourself, clearing your throat softly. Would have sex? Would lie next to each other for hours, talking and laughing? You weren't sure what exactly you wanted to say. So you decided on: "I wasn't expecting this, I guess."

By this, you obviously meant the unusual relationship between Erina and Jonathan. No one would expect what happened behind closed doors in the royal chamber. Undeterred, Erina continued to comb through your hair. It was a pleasant and soothing feeling. The comb slid gently through the ends of your hair, working its way higher and higher.

"You are my first friend, my first lover. I'm afraid I can't offer you a permanent place at my side, but I can admit to being selfish. I need you in my life and JoJo is willing to give me that."

You had known from the start that you could never have a relationship with Erina, but hearing her say it out loud was something else entirely. Still, your heart fluttered. She wanted you and had spoken to the king about it. Your eyes wandered again to the man beside the door. He had agreed.

"Would this be a once-in-a-lifetime experience? Sharing your bed, that is," you finally asked, and for the first time Jonathan returned your gaze. He remained silent, but his eyes burned with - something. Desire or lust, perhaps.

"Preferably no. I want you. We want you. But we need to know first if this is something we can do together, the three of us."

"If we feel the magic?"

Erina laughed softly and her breath rolled over the back of your neck. You could feel the goosebumps starting to raise. "Exactly."

You had already seen a version of the two of them together. A dominant queen with her submissive husband. You had never realized a woman could have such control over a man. But it would be a lie to say that the idea didn't excite you. Not that you wanted to be that woman, but you could spend hours watching Erina give orders to king Jonathan.

But Erina was not the only person in the room you wanted. King Jonathan was a stunning man. Just for the opportunity to be by your princess's side again, you would be forever grateful. But he also wanted you here. It wasn't just something he did for Erina. At least you assumed it based on your first conversation.

You were sure you would always feel that magic with Erina, but could also experience it with king Jonathan.

"So what would all this involve? How do I fit into this?" you finally dared to ask, listening to each of Erina's words as she began to explain. Jonathan waited patiently for further instructions. You enjoyed Erinas proximity and the comb in your hair. You would take whatever she was willing to give you.