Wait for it :: Johnny Joestar x Reader

Chapter 1

Johnny impatiently tapped the handle of his wheelchair outside of the nursing center his riding partner had been placed in. He couldn't believe this was happening, but had to accept it rather quickly.

Gyro had taken a reeeaal nasty spill in their last fight against a stand user out for blood.

Not like the other times both of them didn't get badly injured, but this time was different. He wasn't going to walk away from this instance with a few sewn wounds, he needed immediate medical attention.

God knows how long he'll be in there. Johnny was sure he'll at least come out of there alive, which was what really mattered, but still couldn't help but think about how this would affect their standing in the race. And don't even get him started on thinking about Diego catching up..

The jockey's anxiety had already heightened when he saw Gyro being whisked away in a stretcher. The two had talked for a bit after the Italian had finally come to, seeming positive about the situation, but Johnny couldn't help but worry. Not only would they not be racing together, but it looks like the American was on his own to wander in the city as well.

To be frank, he'd rather hear one of his friend's terrible jokes again than this.

He lets out a sigh, making his way to Slow Dancer. "Guess there's not much else to do now but get settled in here."

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It was a bigger town than he initially expected. It didn't seem terrible so far, but not that great or comfy either. Drunks sneered at him on the right side of the street, and ladies he could only hope were standing on the corner because they simply wanted to on his left. Some of the signs of the places he rode by were smudged out with terrible paint jobs to boot, as if he needed another reason to keep riding instead of making a stop.

This town was way too big for him to just cave and decide to camp out for the night. He was going to sleep on a pillow instead of rocks tonight.

His stomach rumbled so loud it practically vibrated. Looks like he would have to make a stop regardless. Finally making out a sign that indicated it was a restaurant, the American rode over there, still cautious of who could be around.

Leaving Slow Dancer outside, he silently promised her he'd find something she could eat too before taking out his wheelchair and going inside.

Eventually he was led to a seat, menu and eating utensils set on the table. This place seemed pretty refined at least, like somewhere he'd even consider getting breakfast from. Perhaps him and Gyro would've ended up coming here regardless if he were still around. If the food is good, maybe he'll recommend it whenever the cowboy gets back.

Seeing a woman who was clearly wearing the restaurant's uniform attire walk past his booth, he called out to them, his meal planned out in his head already.

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"Hey, I'm ready to order."

You abruptly stopped and turned around, but you didn't look him in the eye.

"I didn't know you guys put bacon on burgers. Sounds unhealthy to me, but I'm up for it. Add some fries too. And also Doll, if you can, see if they'd put a lemon in my water."

Standing in place, you seemed still shaken from him calling you over in the first place. Not to mention the customer so nonchalantly calling you "Doll".

"Hey." He spoke up to you again. "Did you hear me?"

"...I don't work here."

He raised an eyebrow. "But...you're wearing a uniform with a name tag."

Shit. You didn't think this would happen so quickly. But you couldn't just tell him you were a thief, that would ruin everything.

The only reason you had this uniform on was to smuggle a couple of food. You already had plenty in your bag, which you were on your way back to get, but just had to get stopped by this guy. You nearly scoffed in frustration, but maybe playing along would benefit your case.

"Y-youre right. Sorry. I'll take your menu now." You disappeared back into the kitchen.

The poor guy you knocked out for the uniform was still out cold, so that was good at least. You still couldn't believe you were doing this though. This was supposed to be a quick heist and get away.

"I need a bacon cheeseburger with a side of fries! You yelled to the chef before preparing the man's drink.

'lemon with water my ass.' you thought.

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You brought his order back to the table like the obedient waitress you were.

"Anything else sir?' you said through gritted teeth.

It looked like he was about to say something, his lips parting slightly, but when he looked at you he just kept staring. Like he was trying to figure out something.

God you hated staring. Especially when it was someone...attractive. This guy stared like a 5 year old though. The kind that couldn't even get the signal the other person was uncomfortable or annoyed.

"I've seen you before haven't I?" He questioned. It didn't seem like he was asking out of suspicion, just genuine curiosity.

Actually, the more you looked at him the more he started to seem familiar as well. Yes, it was all coming back to you now.

Johnny Joestar.

He was the 3rd most popular racer in the Steel Ball Run race. It was impossible to avoid it in the newspapers, even if you desperately wanted to.

You'd refuse to acknowledge that you recognize him though. Famous people like him would probably want you to grovel at his feet, and there was no way you would do anything more at this damn restaurant.

"I'm sorry, you must have the wrong person."

His face turned back into a neutral expression. Looks like he lost interest then, you thought.

"Must've just been someone similar then." He then began to eat his meal, waving off the situation quickly.

You were grateful for it, wanting to quickly get back to your robbery. Going back to the kitchen, you made a B-line straight for your bag.

Much to your dismay, your victim had woken up.

All of the other staff members had deadly gazes directed at you. You had wasted too much time talking with that damned pretty boy. Deciding to waste no more, you lunged for your bag and pulled out a gun.

The other waitress screamed, while the chef was clearly searching for a nearby weapon to use on you. Not good at all. You didn't feel like getting shot up today by someone who worked at a burger joint for god sake.

You looked around. What could you do? What could you use?

....him.

Returning to the diner part of the place, you grabbed the collar of the crippled man's shirt. He looked more disturbed that you made him drop his sandwich.

He winced as the cold steel of the gun was pressed to the side of his head.

"Nobody move! I have Johnny Joestar!"