Chapter 1: Shelter From the Storm
Notes:
The prologue is just back story on the reader and her situation, the second part is the official first chapter.
(See the end of the chapter for more notes.)
Chapter Text
PROLOGUE: Time Out of Mind
~present day~
You found yourself sitting in a cramped, dimly lit basement with newspaper articles strewn about around your already obscenely cluttered desk. You had been scouring through the records for any historically relevant information on the laboratory where you worked, the only task your boss had assigned you in the several months since you’d started working there.
You let out a discontented sigh and scoffed “I’m a scientist for god’s sake, I shouldn’t be stuck here doing a history project! Why am I always given the useless work?” In your anger, you shoved a large stack of newspaper printouts off the desk. The flimsy pages effortlessly fluttered to the floor. Seeing the mess, you immediately regretted that decision.
But your thoughts had been honest. You had been feeling particularly useless lately. You had graduated with a degree in chemistry the year prior and this was already your second job since graduating. You had been having a more difficult time adjusting to the real world than you’d imagined. In school, you had always known exactly what you needed to do to succeed, but once free of the ivy-covered walls you were finding it hard to keep up with the demands of the real world and you were left feeling rather alone. Your first job had been even less fulfilling than this one, nothing but sifting through computer programs all day. So you quit, despite the warnings of your parents. After having landed your new job you were able to return to the university in pursuit of your master’s degree. The pay was meager, but the stipend for your school work made up for it, plus, you finally got to work for a real laboratory, but you had assumed there would be a little bit more to it than this. Was this all that life was cracked up to be?
So, as you stared at the cluttered heap of papers now decorating the floor, you were left feeling truly and utterly useless.
You collected your things and prepared to go home, you gathered several wayward pieces of newspaper and took them with you. The lab as well as the university would be closed for the next several days for the Thanksgiving holiday. Hopefully, you could get some of this work done on the train ride home.
It was already well into the evening by the time you’d returned to your apartment and you were running late. Your train was set to leave in just over an hour but you had to catch a bus to the train station, and if you missed the train you would be stuck waiting at the stations for several hours which would delay your arrival until the early hours of the morning. That would simply not do, your family was nice and all, but they had a tendency to be neurotic on occasion, and punctuality was a particular sore spot, and while they always supported you, they would have preferred you go into a more dignified profession such as law, as they had, rather than the more uncouth sciences you seemed to devote your time to. With all of that in mind, you haphazardly packed your bags with more than enough clothes to accommodate your weeklong stay, grabbed your newspapers and ran back out into the growing darkness of the evening.
You hurried down the street to the bus stop, praising yourself for making it early. If nothing else, you would make it back home on time, and that would make the conversation about your job situation a little easier. You sat in the small shelter of the bus, you were the only one there, with time to spare before the bus arrived you began to parse through the newspapers you brought with you.
“Hmm, so this is when the left wing of the lab was built; that was some generous donation.” You scanned over several other pages on notable personnel and discoveries, only now realizing the stack in your hand seemed larger than before. “Huh, what’s this?” You dropped the rest of the pages to the ground in surprise, in your hands was a full newspaper containing the exact article you had first read. “There’s no way I could’ve grabbed the original, this article is from 1886!” You exclaimed, hastily opening the pages which all at once seemed to glow ominously.
…
The next thing you knew you were lying flat on the pavement, “my god, what happened?” You muttered into the endless ether that was still spinning around you.
“Oh, thank the lord, she’s awake!” Exclaimed a woman’s voice.
You slowly pulled yourself into a seated position and looked around, keenly aware of how different everything looked. “Are you alright ma’am,” asked a man, “what happened?”
“I-I don’t know,” you placed your hand on your head. “How long have I been here?”
“I don’t know dear,” said a different woman, “our party just happened upon you like that, sprawled out on the ground, we were worried you were dead.”
You now ventured to stand up, quite unsteady on your feet. “Oh you mustn’t leave dear, we’ve sent for the doctor, ma’am? Ma’am!” The woman called as you gathered your things and hurried away as quickly as your weakened state would allow, stumbling aimlessly through the streets. A man walked past you with a newspaper in hand, the story on the front page looked identical to the one in your hand before you collapsed. “If that’s the case...” you thought aloud, but surely it couldn’t be true, it wasn’t scientifically possible. “How bizarre.”
You wandered until you found the water's edge, sitting on the shore you began to cry. You had been miserable in your own time, but at least you belonged there, in 1886 you had nothing. All the money in your wallet was worthless and you were now more alone than ever.
You stayed there on the shore and cried yourself to sleep.
The first golden strands of dawn had just begun to creep over the horizon when a commotion startled you from sleep. A large ship was docked at the shore. A group of young boys waited nearby for work. A gruff older man directed them onto the ship and walked up to you, roughly grabbing your shoulder. “Hey kid, if you intend to get on you best get going,” he instructed.
It was a split-second decision, but you hurried onto the ship. If nothing else, maybe you could make a little money on this trip, and that was something you were now desperately in need of. Besides, you wouldn’t be worse off anywhere else than you already were.
The voyage seemed endless and the work was grueling, but eventually, your ship landed near Liverpool and you were paid a small sum for your work. It wasn’t much, but at least it was something. The trip had also given you some time to think about the best course of action, and being hot and cramped and hungry for days on end, you had now mustered up a brilliant determination.
The moment you were off the ship you headed into town and located the nearest operating laboratory.
“I need a job," you demanded, slamming your hands on the director’s desk with a force that probably didn't help your case nor make you appear as anything close to ladylike.
“I’m sorry, there’s nothing I can do for you, we aren’t in need of any help.”
“I am not leaving here without a job.” You continued, a resolute timbre in your voice.
“Even if I had a position open, I still could never hire a woman.”
A rage quietly burned within you, but you regained composure, lashing out was not going to help you here. “I am as qualified as any man you have working for you, probably more so. I was top of my class in mathematics, I have a firm grasp on integral calculus. I’ve studied Dalton and Maxwell, and I bet I know more about electromagnetism than anyone here. I need this job, but you need me here too, and I can prove it to you, please.”
He thought for a while and then laughed genially. “If nothing else your speech was admirable, so here is my offer, I will allow you to work here for one month, if you impress me, we can discuss a permanent arrangement. I can’t offer you much in terms of pay and you’ll be expected to work the same as any man here, and you’ll be expected to dress appropriately; trousers and a shirt, the laboratory is not a place for fashion and other frivolities.”
“Thank you, thank you, sir!” You grabbed his hand and shook it with such force that it jostled him from his desk. “I promise, you will not regret it.”
Still carrying your luggage around, you realized you would need to procure a suitable place to stay. There were not many options, a hotel, a boarding house? Perhaps, but that wasn’t very permanent. Then a small sign caught your eye, someone was seeking a lodger for a flat in town. You didn’t have the money for a flat right now, but in a mere month, you would.
You sought out the proprietor, a woman who called herself Mrs. Marmalade, she was the personification of Victorian sensibilities.
“Hello ma’am, I saw that you have a flat for rent.”
She eyed you keenly, taking note of your unkempt appearance and your obviously American accent. “It’s improper for a single woman to be living on her own, do you not have a family or a husband?”
“No ma’am, I just got into town this morning and I really need a place to stay, and I don’t have a lot of money right now, but I just got a job at the laboratory, so I will have money soon.”
“What an unbecoming career for a lady!” She intended to throw you out, scold you for your improper ways, but she hadn’t had any solicitations for the flat in nigh on three months, she had grown rather desperate, “but if you can afford it, we shall see what we can do.”
She told you the rent, it cost you nearly everything you had, but being broke with a roof over your head seemed better than the alternative. She showed you into the flat and handed you the key. The flat was a bit dated and could use a bit of sprucing, but on the whole, it was rather nice.
And so time moved on and you slowly adjusted into your new life in Victorian England and before you knew it, two years had passed. You found some fulfillment at your job, and though you were never rich you made enough money to live comfortably. The town was lovely and, on the whole, the people were nice. Life turned out rather pleasantly, but every night when you got home, you were still alone.
CHAPTER 1: Shelter From the Storm
~November, 1888~
It was the dead of night after yet another busy day, your work never seemed to be done, but you couldn’t complain, you liked keeping busy and above all, you actually liked your work. So, any chance to take on an extra project was a welcomed opportunity for you, though it did result in many late nights where you often worked alone in the meditative quiet of your laboratory, only to walk alone through the thick darkness of English streets to come home to your empty flat.
Tonight was a particularly late night, while most of your colleagues typically left earlier on Friday nights, you stayed burning the midnight oil, working on a particularly perplexing project that had been demanding your attention for the last several weeks. You took another quiet step through the dark streets, your shadow was long and spindly in the sickly glow cast by the gaslight street lamps. Only the faintest click of your oxford shoes against the cobblestone could be heard in the sleepy night. You felt almost unreal in that moment, the vastness of the empty street held within it a magnificent tranquility, one you did not often feel in the stifling loneliness of your flat. You breathed in deeply to savor the moment despite the air of an impending December, the temperature was unseasonably mild.
Suddenly, a commotion cut through the silence of the evening and the sound of men's voices could be heard, slurred and clamorous in contrast to the peace the veil of the late autumn night had provided.
You ducked into the darkness to avoid being mixed up in the ensuing argument just around the corner, you waited in silence, your back flush against the cool brick of a nearby building as you listened. “Hey! Watch where you’re walking, you imbecile!” Slurred a distinct male voice followed by a cackle from another man along with several vague obscenities.
A third man, obviously the target of the other men’s vitriol, mumbled something incoherent which you couldn’t make out from where you stood. Hesitantly, you peeked your head out into the street and observed the scene; there stood a very tall young blond, well-dressed in a coat and hat with a nearly empty bottle in his hand. He was visibly drunk; hardly holding himself up where he stood. Before him were two other, much older men, also visibly drunk.
You took a deep breath and mustered all the resolve you had to step out from where you’d been hiding. This had gone far enough.
Just as you stepped out the first voice boomed, “what are ya out here lost and looking for yer mommy?” In an instant, you saw rage flash in the young man’s eyes. If you didn’t act, this was going to come to blows.
“That’s quite enough, gentlemen.” Your voice was steadfast, but you felt a trepidation in your body as you stepped between them, the young man clicked his tongue in discontentment while the two men began another round of hearty laughter.
“Isn’t it a bit late to be playing dress up in yer daddy’s clothes, little girl?” The first man taunted.
You turned your nose up and moved towards the blond. “Are you alright?” You asked softly.
“What a haughty bitch!'' The second man sneered, reaching his hand out to grab you, “who do ya think you are?” His reach caused you to jump backwards, nearly knocking into the blond who, by then, was less than an arm's length away from you. He looked at you and then glared at the men with disdain, inadvertently dropping the bottle of whiskey to the ground where it shattered with a loud crash.
It must’ve been divine intervention because the noise caused the man to pull back from you and you relaxed once again “I think you ought to return home and leave this man alone, don’t you have anything better to do than harass someone less than half your age?”
“Let’s go, pal there’s nothin’ left to see here.” With that, the two men turned around and headed back down the alleyway. You waited until they were out of sight, then returned to the remaining man who was looking a bit worse for wear.
“Boy, am I glad you dropped that bottle when you did,” you chuckled, offering him your hand. Initially he rejected it, turning away from you, but as soon as he tried to take another step, he realized without your assistance he would be face down on the pavement. “Come on, my place isn’t far from here, it’s small, but it’s a safe place where you can sober up,” you smiled, putting on your most gentle disposition.
Reluctantly, he took your arm and allowed you to lead him. “Why are you helping me?” He slurred, putting more weight on you than you would have preferred. “Are you a whore?”
You were taken aback by the contrast of his proper appearance but brutish demeanor, you couldn’t even form the words to respond. Your first instinct was to slap him, but you stayed your hand; he was drunk, he needed help, you had been called far worse. ‘I’m a saint, a damn saint,’ you thought to yourself.
“I don’t need a woman to fend for me.” He muttered, holding his head in his hand.
“It just looked like you could use a friend.”
He did not respond, but that clearly hadn’t been the response he was expecting. He let out a sigh of acceptance and his body relaxed slightly as he allowed you to lead him into your flat.
Once inside you helped him out of his coat and shoes, somehow managing to get him up the steps in his drunken stupor and finally into your bedroom.
He immediately fell into your bed, breathing a sigh of relief when he felt his body supported by your mattress. He eyed you from across the room as you leaned against your vanity chair. “Are you not accompanying me this evening?” The suggestion came out more crass than suave.
“You’re drunk.” You said flatly, perhaps a bit harsher than intended, but you weren’t exactly enthused with how he’d spoken to you prior.
“How boring.” He mused, curling into your soft sheets and settling into sleep almost immediately.
You exhaled sharply; what a night this had turned out to be. You retrieved a quilt from your armoire and draped it over the now sleeping man. He stirred and smiled slightly upon feeling the warmth of the blanket, only easing deeper into sleep.
You pulled the chair from your vanity into the middle of the room and sat down in it to keep vigil over your guest ‘if he tries to get up he’s going to fall and break his face,’ you thought, leaning firmly into the back of the chair as the night grew on.
After a couple of hours had passed your guest began to stir awake, the entire room was spinning and he was suddenly overcome with a terrible feeling of nausea. Oh dear. Hazy and in an unfamiliar environment he clasped his hand tightly over his mouth and made a frantic motion to get out of bed. “Oh no, come with me, sir,” the commotion alone was enough to jolt you into action; you grabbed his wrist and hastily pulled him out of your bedroom.
Many nights in college had left you well-equipped to deal with this kind of situation; though it was undeniably harder to maneuver such a large man compared to the girls you used to go to parties with in your teens. Despite the difficulty, you brought him to your kitchen sink and helped him to throw up. Gingerly, you held his bangs out of his face while rubbing his back gently, “it’s alright,” you whispered, “don’t even worry about it.”
You led him to the couch to sit down then returned to rinse his sick out of the sink and fetch him a glass of water. “Drink this, you’ll feel better soon.” Though your tone was attempting to be reassuring; he however, only felt worse now.
You sat beside him on the couch while he finished the glass of water. Neither of you looked at one another; both of you remained staring straight forward, looking out into the large picture window of your living room just as the golden halo of daylight began to kiss the horizon. Finally, without even glancing at you, he broke the silence. “Really, why are you helping me, to what end does this benefit you?”
“I already told you, you looked like you could use a friend, and I know what it’s like, to feel so alone. Isn’t that enough?” You ventured to look at him, but his gaze remained steadfastly forward. Your response still was not enough to satisfy him. He let out a disgruntled sigh and leaned his head back, his hand holding his hair off of his forehead. What an odd person he thought you to be.
“Come on, let’s get you back to bed.” You suggested, getting up and smiling sweetly down at him, offering your hand just as you had done before.
“I can handle myself.” He once again brushed you off and took himself to your room, shutting the door behind him.
“How crude,” you said under your breath, pulling a small knit blanket out from the basket next to the couch. Wrapping the flimsy thing around your tired body, finally sprawling out to sleep. This would have to be sufficient for tonight. If you had been wanting for more excitement in your life, it had certainly found you.
Notes:
This entire escapade started as a joke over the holidays when my friends and I started rewatching JoJo in the hopes that it would will a Steel Ball Run announcement. I joked that to make it more interesting this time around, I was going to root for Dio. Ended up falling in love with him instead, and I don't think it's a joke anymore.
So, I felt my boy deserved some kind of happy ending in one of the many universes out there, so here we are. Please enjoy the criminally self-indulgent musings of a mad woman.
I've already written 30 chapters that need to be edited, expect hopefully regular updates.
Thanks for stopping by! :D
Chapter Text
The cool late morning sun filled the room, you sat up on the couch and stretched, that certainly hadn’t been the best night’s sleep you’d ever gotten. You twisted on your seat until you felt your back crack, you let out a groan of relief, finally feeling good enough to get up. You carried yourself to the bathroom for a shower, letting the water run until it was warm and comforting. It felt rejuvenating, that, along with the three cups of coffee you drank provided you with enough energy to begin the day’s tasks.
Your guest slept through most of the day, it was already well into the afternoon before you’d had any sign of him getting up when the bedroom door creaked open and he reluctantly walked into the kitchen.
“Oh good, you’re awake! How are you feeling? Better, I hope!” You smiled and leaned your back into the counter to retain and element of aplomb.
No response.
“Did you sleep well?” You asked again in an attempt to force a conversation.
Again, nothing.
‘Keep your cool’ you told yourself. “Are you hungry, I just put some food on…” trailing off, you looked at him directly, hoping to bait some kind of response.
He still did not offer you even a hint of an answer and only looked on impassively.
“Listen, I don’t know who you are and it doesn’t really matter, but you’re going to have to give me something to go off of here… I mean, we are in my house.” You averted your gaze and tapped your fingertips together making a little peak against your chest, unsure if you had been too harsh or not harsh enough.
He exhaled curtly, obviously annoyed “I suppose you are right,” he smirked slightly but ultimately introduced himself as Dio Brando and nothing more, as though he had anticipated some degree of recognition on name alone.
“Okay, alright, I can work with that, it’s a start!” You stumbled over all of your words, it’s your first proper interaction with him, and now in the daylight, you have realized how tremendously beautiful the man before you was. “So, um, food, you must be hungry by now, right?” You gestured to several pans behind you.
“You have my thanks.” He now had the demeanor of a perfect gentleman, all the crassness of the night before seemed to have melted away.
“Well, I figured you still might be feeling off from last night, so I scrounged up some mashed potatoes and made some toast. Oh, and if you’re feeling up to it, I did make some pumpkin muffins this morning” you smiled warmly, gesturing to the kitchen window where six lovely muffins sat perfectly in their tray.
“My, weren’t we busy this morning?” He quipped in a tone that floated between thankfulness and mocking, but he accepted the food and sat at your table to eat. The food was plain and humble, but comforting in his empty stomach.
You sat across from him, gazing wistfully as he ate; observing every tiny movement, from the way he cut his bread with surgical precision to the way the fork dragged across his lips while he ate. Everything about him seemed hauntingly beautiful. All of a sudden, the small table felt like a great chasm between the two of you. Everything about him seemed frightfully out of reach. Your mind drifted into thought, mulling over how a man with such a gentlemanly disposition could contain within him such a dichotomy that would lead to him walking drunkenly through the streets in the wee hours of the morning. Whoever he truly was, he’d hidden it behind a sturdy veneer. You began to wonder how he was perceiving you, his appearance lent no insight into his feelings.
In an instant, you were ripped from your daydream by the glint of his amber eyes burning into you. Your eyes only met his for a moment, but his gaze was intense, behind his eyes spiraled a cacophony of emotions, complicated and contradictory.
His very presence seemed intimidating, you averted your eyes immediately.
Dio seemed amused by this reaction, he let out a cool chuckle and began to get up from the table to clear his dishes. “Oh, don’t worry, I’ll take care of it, you’re my guest.” You smiled, trying to maintain your friendliest demeanor as you took his dishes.
“If you insist” he shrugged before returning to your bedroom without another word.
‘Not a talkative one, I guess’ you thought as relief washed over you, still unsure of how to read the man, though he seemed more than comfortable taking your room as his own. You shrugged it off and busied yourself for the rest of the afternoon with your books and other leisures.
In your room, Dio lay on your bed, burdened by his current situation. Jonathan had headed out on his expedition several days ago, if he’d survived, he’d no doubt have found the poison he’d been giving their father. It would be over for him. He still had the mask as a trump card, but with his plan already gone awry and his prospects looked troubling. Could he even face going back to the Joestar mansion now? And undeniably, having a woman come to his aid was a blow to his ego. He felt more pitiful now than he ever had before. ‘This weakness, it is a folly of the human condition… damn it all.’
He thought of you and of the events from the night before. He still couldn’t wrap his head around why you were being so kind to him, you— you didn’t even know him. There must’ve been something you sought to gain, and that perplexed him, enticed him even. Though he didn’t think you were much to look at, a bit too waif-like for his liking and more than a bit unruly, but there was something inexplicably charming about you, not just in your appearance, but in your ways. He thought of your eyes and the light he saw burning so brightly within them. Yes, there was something indescribable about the way you’d looked at him in the kitchen. He would love to strip back all your layers and figure out exactly what it was within you that left him with such an impression.
Yes, he had a lot to think about, but for now, he was tired.
The afternoon had slipped by peacefully and evening was getting on. You were cooking dinner when Dio exited the bedroom and meandered into the kitchen.
“Dinner’s almost ready if you would like some,” you said and gestured to a pot of vegetable soup boiling on the stove. “It isn’t much, funds are a bit scanty this week.”
“Oh, I’m terribly sorry,” he said in a way that almost took even himself aback, it was startlingly genuine.
“Oh no, there’s no need to worry, rent was due and I just bought some new furniture for the sitting room upstairs, speaking of, I really should show you the place, that is, if you’d like.” You said, unable to look at him, that burning intensity in his eyes was unforgettable.
“Alright.”
“Alright! I’ll give you the grand tour, after dinner though.” You motioned for him to take a seat at the table while you set two place settings and served the soup alongside some slices of bread.
“It’s good!” He exclaimed as the salty broth passed his lips.
“Thank you, it was my grandfather’s recipe, winters on the East Coast can be dreadfully cold and snowy, sometimes you need something comforting.” You mused, thinking back to the way your old life had been.
“You’re from America, I presume?”
“Oh, yes, I lived there for most of my life, I moved here a couple of years ago.”
“And what brought you here, so far away from home?”
“Work… mostly.” Your answer attempted to seem uninteresting; his questions had caught you off guard, you had been hoping to glean more information out of him, not the other way around. Moreover, you weren’t used to anyone prying into your past.
“Hmm, work, and there was no work in America?” He stared at you with that same forceful state, beckoning you to tell him more.
“There was, or there may have been, but not exactly what I was looking for, and here I’ve gotten to create something that is all my own.”
He narrowed his eyes and muttered under his breath, “interesting.” He brought a curled finger to his lips and looked at you more intently. You felt rather exposed before him, instinctively crossing your arms over your chest so he couldn’t look at you so easily. “Are you finished?” He asked, reaching his hand towards your empty bowl.
“Oh, yes.” Without a word, he took both of your dishes to the sink and began washing. “Oh you don’t have to—”
“I insist.” He bowed slightly and smirked.
“Well, alright, if you insist.”
He finished quickly and, after drying his hands on a towel, approached you, “now then, I believe I was promised a tour.”
“You most certainly were!” You jumped to your feet in a display of good nature, trying to sound as enthusiastic as possible, but his closeness to you was intimidating. “So, obviously this is the kitchen, I got this table from a restaurant that closed down last summer and I painted it turquoise to cover the wear.” You tapped on it, obviously proud of your work. “And here’s the sink where you puked last night, I installed the faucet myself, and in the other two flats; my handiwork gets me money off rent.” You laughed in the hope that this would calm your own nerves and make things feel more natural.
“I don’t take very kindly to your insolence.” He scowled, his dark eyebrows furrowing together, you hadn’t thought he would’ve taken it so seriously, but his face said otherwise.
“You were in my capable hands the entire time, there was never a need to fret.”
His eyes flashed with a spark of crimson rage, the lines of this frown deepening, as he clenched his hand into a fist. You took a step back from him with your hands up innocently. His face softened, lashing out in anger would not be advantageous now. “Still, I would rather not be reminded of it. It was not my proudest moment.” His voice was soft, with a hint of melancholy to it, he lifted his head and turned away from you entirely.
“Dio… I’m sorry, I was just… I didn’t mean to offend you.” You now ventured to touch his arm ever so gently. “I didn’t mean any harm by it.” Your finger grazed the skin of his arm, he felt warm to the touch. In return he petted your hand gently, causing your breath to hitch. His lips curled into a smirk, he was clearly pleased with your reaction.
“Sh-shall we continue?” You suggested, the words catching in your throat while you tried to collect yourself, he nodded and gestured for you to lead.
“Right, and down that hallway is my bedroom, you’ve already been acquainted, and to the right is the bathroom, I installed these faucets and the shower as well, don’t tell my landlord about the shower, she’ll have me install it in the other flats, and it proved more time consuming than I’d intended.”
“It’s our secret then, but be warned, my secrecy will not come without a cost.” He tilted his head to meet your eyes directly, this was the friendliest you had ever seen the man.
“Hmm, how about me rescuing you from near peril last night then allowing you to stay in my home and keeping you fed today?”
“Perhaps it’s a start.”
“Well, I’ll have to see what else I can come up with, your highness.”
He chuckled in response and admired your handiwork, it was truthfully well done; though he thought it a strange hobby for a woman, and it wasn’t even the strangest thing about you. “So you must work in this building then, as a designer or some kind of architect?” He had been curious about what you do, a young woman living alone in a foreign country, the situation was rather odd.
“No, I’m a scientist, I work in a laboratory”
“That sounds terribly fascinating, what does that entail?”
“We do lots of things; mostly studying the properties of gasses, but we also do a lot of research in electricity and magnetism which has been a particular interest of mine. Recently I’ve been doing some work with four-stroke engines, trying to optimize the efficiency, I’m feeling rather close to my idol, Micheal Faraday, did you know he invented the first electric dynamo more than fifty years ago? To see his science really come to life before me is—” you looked over to see him smiling at you. “I’m sorry, it’s not as boring as it sounds, but perhaps a bit esoteric, I just get too excited when talking about my work.” It only then occurred to you that you’d never really been properly asked what you do for work. Normally, when you’d tell people that you were a scientist the reaction is either to be vaguely impressed, but not interested, or a scoff and a lecture about it not being your place to do a man’s job.
“There’s no need to apologize, it’s endearing to see someone enthusiastic about their work.” He smiled reassuringly, in truth, he found your response quite cute. It only solidified his interest in you. “You must be rather well-educated then.”
“Oh, I don’t know, I only have one degree…”
“Well, I’m not anything close to a scientist, why don’t you share something interesting with me; maybe I’ll begin to understand your passion for the subject.”
“Well, okay, did you know that, unlike most substances, water expands as it freezes; usually it’s the opposite, thermodynamically speaking, that’s one of the reasons why pipes burst in the winter.”
“I suppose I’ve seen that, even without consciously noticing it.”
“Yes, many things in science are things we observe in our everyday life, we just take them for granted. In this case, it’s mostly due to hydrogen bonding; the bonds force the solid structure to expand. However, ice is also less dense than liquid water; that’s why ice can float on water. Neat huh? Compared to lots of other things, water is quite an anomaly.”
“Truly fascinating.” He cocked his head and eyed you keenly, “you’re even more intelligent than I thought.”
“Oh please, flattery will get you everywhere.”
“That’s wonderful to know, but I meant what I said.” His expression was sly, nearly feline; with a curious spark of gold that broke through the honey-brown tone of his sharp eyes.
You thanked him awkwardly, feeling a flutter in your chest, and returned to the tour. “Then, if you continue down that hall you’ll get to the back door, the yard is communal, but no one seems to use it besides me, I planted most of the flowers that bloom out there, unfortunately you won’t see them until the spring. Then, down at the end of the hall is what I believe was supposed to be a second bedroom, but now it’s my office.” You peered into the room, the shades were up and the light of the moon was streaming in. It looked quite lovely. You thought to yourself how, if you got another bed, then Dio could have this room for himself, you often neglected this room anyway.
Suddenly, you realized that you had no idea how long Dio would be staying. He wasn’t anything to you, he probably had a family or a wife he had to get back to. You felt an ache in your heart, you couldn’t figure to why, but the thought of him leaving was disconcerting, you had forgotten what it was like to have company. You all of a sudden felt very alone, and for the first time in a long time dearly missed your family.
You shook off the feeling and smiled warmly. “And then if you come this way, we’re back at the front in my living room. This is my favorite room.” You draped yourself over a low backed couch of green velvet, which, in its day, had probably been rather lovely, but now it had faded to a more silvery color in some places and had been patched many times with swatches of patterned fabric with pinked edges, another one of your thrifty salvages, he presumed.
“I built these shelves myself specifically for all of my books and with a special spot for Layla.”
“Layla?”
“Yes, right here, this is Layla,” you pointed to a pale purple orchid in a blue painted pot on the middle shelf, “here she can get plenty of light from the window with some protection from the summer heat.”
“You… named your plant?” Dio hoped his face wasn’t giving away exactly how perplexed he was feeling.
It was.
“And why not? Someone was just throwing her away, I rescued her, I nurtured her back to a healthy state. She is mine, so I named her. Kindness, love, sympathy; these not the most basic things that any living thing deserves? ” You explained with one hand on your hip.
“I see.” He responded, sounding a bit more far off than usual.
“Good, then shall we go upstairs?”
“Lead the way.”
You hurried towards the staircase beckoning him to follow. He, however, lagged behind, left deep in thought.
He silently admonished himself for his earlier judgements. While it was true that you were slender and wild, here, in your own space, filled with eccentricities you just seemed to belong. As if seeing you within this context allowed him to peer deeper into you. Your splendor and vivacity were apparent in every aspect of your home, it seemed to glitter around him in a kind of majestical flurry, he now gazed up at you with this added context and everything felt different. Thinking now that the word beauty would not have been misplaced.
He felt a twinge of heat on his face, was he, Dio Brando, blushing at the mere thought of a perfectly ordinary woman?
“And this is the upstairs, it’s small but quaint. You can see that there’s a little balcony, but it’s far too cold to use now, but it’s wonderful in the spring. And there’s also a powder room and of course, my little sitting room, complete with the new furniture which has left me rather skint.” You tapped on the arm of a small couch upholstered in alternating stripes of pale yellow and cornflower blue canvas.
“It’s quite nice,” he said, taking a seat on the couch, determined to be as charming as possible, “you have a very unique taste.”
“Unique?” You questioned, wondering if that was intended as a compliment or not.
“Yes, it suits you.” You still weren’t sure how he meant it, but you decided to accept it as a compliment.
You took a seat next to him on the couch, and the two of you gazed across the room out the glass balcony door onto the street. It was night and you could see the lights in the neighboring buildings glowing warmly against the darkness. Dozens of people with equally rich and unique lives, and you were here in the middle of it all with this strange, yet alluring man.
After sitting in silence for several minutes, you finally mustered the courage to speak “Dio,” you whispered in a soft, almost lyrical voice, “how long are you planning on staying here?”
“Are you suggesting that I’ve overstayed my welcome?”
“No! I just— I don’t know who you are, where you’ve come from, or what circumstances led to… what happened last night, and— you see my position is rather awkward..." you trailed off, trying to find the right words to express yourself without offending him. “Dio, if you would like to stay here, I welcome you entirely, you can stay as long as you want, but I need to know a little bit about you first, okay?”
He let out a deep sigh and replied “I have of late, and wherefore I know not, lost all my mirth.” A devious smirk crawled across his face.
“Ah yes! What a piece of work is man! How noble in reason! Well that’s just fine Prince Hamlet, if you’re going to play games, then I; as I must have the apprehension of a god, will just assume your mother is fucking your uncle and you’re just having a really hard time accepting it.”
He chuckled from behind that same devious smile, part of him was impressed. “Such a dirty mouth, weren’t you ever taught that such language is not becoming of a young lady?”
You crossed your arms over your chest and sighed “Dio, I want to help you here, but I have worked really hard for all the things that I have, and I need to protect that.”
He scoffed, who were you to give him a lecture on hard work? He grew up with nothing, you oughtn’t to be making assumptions so carelessly. But when he looked at you your face was so soft and so genuine, he couldn’t bear to say anything poisonous to you. He still had not been able to figure out what had driven you to offer so much aid to a stranger, especially a stranger like him who was wicked and unkind.
“And what gives you the right to know me so intimately? I don’t know you at all and I certainly didn’t ask for your help.” His words came out harsher than he had anticipated, but he was certain that if he told you the truth you would find him utterly despicable.
You breathed in sharply, initially annoyed by his refusal to disclose, but in noticing the tension in his forehead and the look of sorrow on his face, you softened your tone with a gentle exhale. “All the same, I think I do have a right to know, not only because I would like to work out a living situation, but because, as a friend, I can tell something is troubling you.”
There you were using that word again, a word you couldn’t possibly mean, you hadn’t even known him for twenty-four hours, you were as good as strangers to each other. And even if you did mean it, what use did he have for a friend? If you could provide him the necessary sanctuary while he figured out exactly what to do with his Joestar problem, then fine, if you refused, then so be it, he didn’t need you by any means. You were merely a temporary interest. A passing fancy. A whim he could indulge until his interest waned and the need no longer served him.
He didn’t respond but instead chose to keep looking straight out the door. “Whatever is wrong, I will try to help you as best as I can, I promise, I won’t just abandon you,” you ghosted your hand over his arm, debating whether or not you should touch him.
He gritted his teeth, your kindness was unsettling to him. You were so insistent on helping him, so willing to take on his burdens, even though you gained nothing. How could someone act so altruistically? Your genuine concern, that soft voice you used when you spoke to him; so honest and tender, it stirred within him an unfamiliar emotion that he could not name. “There is time yet for you to reconsider that notion.”
“Perhaps,” you said, leaning deeper into the couch, the day had caught up to you and you were left feeling very tired all of a sudden, “but I am willing to take the risk and live with the consequences.”
He narrowed his eyes at you, ‘such a perplexing woman,’ he thought, but spoke no more.
The two of you stared wordlessly out the window, neither daring to look at the other. Outside the night wore on, but time seemed to stand still between the two of you until your body succumbed to exhaustion and you fell deeply asleep beside him, your head resting on your curled up arms. Dio observed you in this state; so serene you seemed to him. “How foolishly trusting,” he said aloud and brushed a wayward strand of hair behind your ear. Even like that, there was something about you that was inexplicably pretty to him.
He sighed, supposing this entire situation could be worse. It might be for the best that he stay with you for a while.
Dio carried you to your bedroom and laid you gingerly on your bed.
Notes:
Oh dear, Dio Brando blushing like a school boy over a silly woman? He is not going to be too pleased about that...
I don't think I'm capable of writing something without including a Hamlet reference which, in this case, is somehow also a Hair reference, but in the dub, Dio makes a reference to Hamlet, so I thought it fit. I can totally see Dio trying to impress girls in college with flirtatious Shakespearean quotations (it was probably successful too).
Thanks for reading! :)
Chapter 3: The Man Who Sold the World
Notes:
Welcome to Lit Class!
CW for discussion of abuse in this chapter
(See the end of the chapter for more notes.)
Chapter Text
You awoke sometime in the night feeling the familiarity of your soft bed beneath your body. It seemed so natural that for a moment you wondered if everything since last night had been an elaborate dream. You looked down at your body; still dressed in your day clothes and haphazardly covered with a blanket. So it hadn’t been a dream after all... had he, the brilliant and terrifyingly impenetrable man that he was, helped you to bed? The image of your sleeping body cradled in his strong arms raced through your mind. Something about the entire scene felt considerably romantic; the handsome and tragic knight happens upon a beguiling princess and, in spite of their respective curses, the two fall madly in love, it seemed something out of a fairytale. Immediately, the thought was interrupted by a wave of embarrassment that brought a rosy blush to your cheeks. How could you even consider something so pitifully childish with a near perfect stranger?
You pulled yourself out of bed and looked at the clock, it was well past two in the morning and all the world felt dark as you crept quietly from your bedroom. In your living room, illuminated only by the light of a small lamp, you found Dio sitting comfortably on your couch, one leg crossed over the other, as he read one of your books, it looked as if he had lived there for years; nothing seemed out of place.
“Dio!” Your voice came out in more of a groggy whine than you had anticipated and you were left sheepishly trying to regain an element of poise. “You should’ve taken the bed, you need it more than I do, you’re still recovering.”
Without so much as looking up from the book, he answered with a cool, velvety timbre to his voice. “It was quite rude to fall asleep in front of me, what was I to do? And besides, I wasn’t ready to go to bed, I did spend most of the day asleep if you recall.”
Though he was right, you had no intention of letting him have the satisfaction by admitting it yourself, and something in his tone had robbed you of any response. You watched the frown on his face curl into the smallest of smirks as he turned the page. He shot you a quick, devious glance before looking back into the book as if to make sure you were watching his little show. “What are you reading?” You asked in a hushed voice that concealed your shaken confidence, determined to change the subject immediately.
He leaned the cover of the book up ever so slightly to allow you to see the title.
“Oh, Wuthering Heights, an excellent, excellent choice! Everyone is so awful and wretched and miserable all the time, it’s amazing— the writing I mean. It’s such a unique piece of literature.” Your cheeks flushed in discomposure; you’d once again let yourself get overly excited, but how was the boy to know that Wuthering Heights was one of your favorite classics? If nothing else this seemed like an opportunity to induce some conversation.
“I think it’s very honest, humans can be inexplicably wicked, they put their own wants before anyone else, regardless of who gets hurt in the process; it’s all just collateral damage that can be justified if the desired outcome is reached. Everyone has an angle, everyone has a scheme, everyone has an end goal in mind.” He mused, still only looking at the pages of the book.
“I don’t think it’s like that at all.”
He sent you a confused scowl, who were you to blatantly disagree with him? “Ahh, then pray tell, what do you think?”
You ventured to take the seat next to him, but his scowl persisted. “Well, I think it shows that all people are capable of both great kindness and great cruelty. Mr. Earnshaw didn’t have to take in Heathcliff as his son after he was orphaned, but he did, but he was also abusive towards his biological son, and always favored Heathcliff over Hindley. So Hindley became cruel in response. Similarly, Heathcliff did not have to save Hareton, but he did, it would have been of no consequence to him if the baby had died, but he still chose to save him, yet, he also chose to swindle Thrushcross Grange from Cathy, he also did not have to do that, he should’ve been satisfied with Wuthering Heights alone, but he was driven by his hatred for Edgar, he felt wronged by him, and moreover he was jealous of him, Catherine married Edgar, so Heathcliff took everything dear to him in return. But in the end, what did his cruelty get him? He attained everything he wanted within his power, yet he was still miserable. Catherine was dead, and he could never change that. He lived with a ghost for twenty years and it haunted him every day, but when he died, there was peace, the chain was broken.”
His scowl deepened and his eyes narrowed, “whether cruelty is a choice or not is irrelevant, it is still the path most people choose to walk. Heathcliff could have left Wuthering Heights for good and never returned, but he chose to do so. He became profoundly successful on his own in spite of his lowly status, he could’ve had the world, but he squandered it for revenge. He chose to continue down that cruel and wicked path. Treating others as mere pawns, going so far as to use and abuse his wife and son to satisfy his selfish objectives. At his end, he was irredeemable, but he had only himself to blame.”
“Yes, you’re right, but I think it’s more complicated than that. I was raised to believe in goodness and in everyone’s ability to do good, and I would like to believe that most people would not willfully choose cruelty if it can be helped, but if someone has only ever known cruelty and suffering, how can you expect them to understand goodness, it is foreign to them, is it any wonder someone of those circumstances would perpetuate the cycle of cruelty? To a person like that there isn’t anything else, the choice is a luxury.”
Dio slammed the book shut, the sudden noise caused you to jump. “And do you truly believe that even the most wretched and sinister person is still capable of goodness? Regardless of what they've done or where they came from?”
You pondered for a moment, the words were tricky, the meaning was delicate, and you wanted all your words to come out right. “I think that, if a person truly wanted to, and I mean intrinsically really wanted to change, that they could. Of course, it would require extreme mental fortitude, trauma is not something you can heal overnight, and the longer those wounds have stayed open, the harder it will be to heal, but I do think it’s possible. Possible and necessary to break the cycle of meaningless suffering.”
“Those are some lofty ideals, Miss, but a far cry away from reality. Do you really think all of a person’s crimes and indiscretions can be amended through the simple acceptance of some vague sense of goodness?”
“While it’s true that some things cannot be undone, a person can still change, they could seek forgiveness, not only from those they’ve hurt, but from themselves. It’s not just a lofty ideal, it’s a personal decree, to not give into cruelty, even when it’s frightfully tempting because, in the end, it won’t get you anywhere. Cruelty, hatred, malice, all of these things are only going to breed more misery. You can’t overcome your own pain by doing the same unto others.”
He raised an eyebrow and shook his head before getting up and replacing the book on the shelf. He then feigned a stretch and leaned down to look directly into your eyes for the first time all night. “You really are an intriguing woman.” His smile was so soft and sweet, and with his face mere inches from yours you could see all of his beautiful features, only enhanced by the dim light. A deep blush crept over your face, but his gaze never wavered. You felt, in a way, that he was looking through you, rather than at you. This was his way of paying your back for earlier, no woman, no matter how beautiful or complicated was going to make him blush.
Once he’d been satisfied by your reaction, he bade you good night and headed into your room, stopping at the threshold of the doorway. “My offer to join me still stands.” He glanced over one of his broad shoulders to see you hiding your red face in your hands.
Your chest was aflutter and your head buzzed as a thousand different little possibilities ran through your mind, as if with a single, solitary spark, he’d ignited a fuse you’d forgotten you had. You mustered up every ounce of courage you had and followed him.
“How interesting,” he sneered. It would be far less fun if you gave in so early, but he must admit, the thought of having you had never been far from his mind since the night before, but after this evening, he longed to know just how your body would look intertwined with his.
He laid on the mattress and beckoned you to join him. You relinquished your apprehensions and followed suit, taking a position in his muscular arm as he lightly drew circles on your leg with his other hand. He sat ponderously, silently debating how to initiate, he had no doubt in his skills as a lover, you would enjoy it regardless, but the matter was a delicate one. He didn’t want to jeopardize the sanctuary you were offering him, but the warmth of your skin on his fingertips was more than enticing.
He admired your body in this position and the way you filled the empty space beside him, it seemed to fit somehow.
“Dio…” you touched his cheek with your fingertips, the tone of your voice drifting between loving and sensual. He gave an amused purr and leaned into your touches. “Dio, I know we weren’t talking about the book out there.”
He gritted his teeth, in a mere millisecond his nearly unbreakable confidence was shattered, he did not have the upper hand he thought he did. This was a miscalculation he would have to pay dearly for.
You saw the sour expression on his face and attempted to soften yourself even further. “I’ve told you before that I will help you however I can, and whatever you tell me, I will reserve my judgments until you’ve told me everything, I promise.”
“How can you even say that when you have no idea what a horrible, wretched person I am?” His voice now rose into a strained shout. “If you knew even a fraction of the awful deeds I have done, you wouldn’t even be able to look me in the eyes, let alone lay beside me, and you sit here with your righteous ideals of morality and arbitrary goodness because you think you are profound, but you're just a silly woman who thinks she can do more than she’s capable of; a silly woman who, until now, has never been face to face with something truly vile, that’s why you can convince yourself of such a fantasy, but you can’t even fathom my experience!”
“Dio…” you took his hand in yours and held it tightly.
The anger on his face faded and tears began to stream down his face. “Don’t do that,” his voice shrunk to a whisper, making a motion to pull his hand away from you, but you only tightened your hold. “Don’t look at me so kindly when I know you’re about to hate me.”
You raised your hand to his cheek and wiped away some of his tears “I won’t hate you, but you have to tell me, okay?”
He took a deep breath and looked away from you, he couldn’t bear to watch the look on your face as it twisted from sympathy to contempt. After a brief pause, he began, his voice as slow and as measured as he could manage. “It seems I have squandered every opportunity that has come to me. I am a miserable wretch who has only ever been cruel, even to the people who were kind to me, even to you.”
“Dio, you—”
“I had every intention of fucking you tonight, I would repay your kindness and your respect with flagrant indecency.” He ripped his hand away from yours and shifted himself over you, staring down directly into your eyes with a piercing gaze.
You recoiled at his action, sinking further into the mattress, but the longer his gaze persisted, the more tears continued to fall. The crystal droplets dripped from his chin and splashed onto your face beneath him. You lifted a shaky hand to his face. With a huff, he returned to your side, again averting his eyes. You smoothed out your dress and gently patted his arm. “It can be forgiven, let me listen to you now.”
He took another deep breath, followed by a long, almost wistful pause. “I have spent the last seven years of my life tormenting my adoptive brother, just to make him miserable. I was given a golden opportunity to start my life anew, escape from the misery that was my childhood and my father who drank away everything we’ve ever owned and I squandered it. I looked for every excuse to ruin the Joestar family. And up until two nights ago I had planned to kill them, and I would have, without question. I was poisoning my father and I was more than prepared to murder Jonathan with the stone mask he was researching.” He exhaled sharply and gripped tightly onto your bedsheets. “And my worthless father whose abuse killed my mother and nearly me, and after nearly thirteen years of constant torment I had enough, I took the matter into my own hands and I killed him, and I have never felt sorry for it, not one bit, after everything he did, he deserved to die!”
“Deserved it, I dare say he did, there are many that live who deserve death, and some that die who deserve life, can you give it to them?” You positioned yourself to face him now and took his hand once again. You held onto all the confidence you had in your heart, though there was a lump in your throat, his story had indeed been more than you expected. “That’s a line from my favorite book, remind me to show it to you some time.”
Dio mulled over this thought; lost in hazy recollections of his once tiny body lying battered on the floor, shards of sticky glass littered all around him, some stuck in his hair and clothes. His body ached from the myriad of bruises ranging in color from scarlet red to deepest indigo to a sickly green. Many nights he had spent huddled in the farthest corner of the room, shielded only in the cold comfort the darkness provided him; his eyes red and puffy with tears, but once she was gone and he had no one in this harsh world to save him he was left utterly alone. Left to fend entirely for himself. He had been so feeble until he’d made his decision to end his father’s pathetic life. And never once had he regretted that choice. He had no doubts that Dario’s death was inconsequential; no one mourned him and no one missed him; in truth, it had been so easy to murder him. Dio however, hadn’t counted on his ghost haunting him; forever occupying the spot in the recesses of his mind where all his fears and self-doubts dwelled, and no matter what he did, he could never be rid of him. Even now he lingered in every aspect of his life. An undying, stone-faced glare that pierced through him. There were some nights, where he’d wake with the phantom pains of old wounds, his body feeling sore and small despite the large stature he’d grown into. Perhaps that would be his eternal punishment. Forever haunted by the one sorry action that had irreparably changed him and forever altered his destiny. He was a murderer and a murderer he would forever be. No amount of goodness found in trite platitudes and hopeful-eyed women would change the cruel reality of that fact.
At last, he sat up to look you in the eyes, words catching in his throat as he attempted to shake off the lingering fear that had enveloped his body. “So you see, I am a horrible, irredeemable man, unworthy of your forgiveness. I, in the wake of my failure, have nothing, and if you hadn’t taken me in last night I would still be trying to kill Jonathan with the stone mask.”
“Well, if that’s the case, then you haven’t yet.”
“W-what?” Your statement left him bereft of words, only able to cast a curious glare your way.
“You haven’t killed Jonathan or his father yet, so don’t. Have power over your past, don’t be consumed by your anger at humanity, let it go. You have gone through more than a person should, you have been hurt and you have let yourself hurt others, but if you choose to, you can move on, you can be better. I-I believe you can. I don’t think you are unworthy of forgiveness, but you have to want it for yourself, I cannot change you, you have to do that for yourself, but I will help you when I can, if you’ll have me.” Determination flared into your eyes, there was something so appealing about the man before you. Never before had you been so inexplicably drawn to another person, but something far beyond your own comprehension was telling you to hold on to him.
He wiped away some of his remaining tears and gave a maudlin sigh, “I still murdered my own father.”
“I won’t lie to you, it was cruel and horrible and wretched and every other word you described it as, but I think you are more sorry than you think, or it wouldn’t be troubling you as it is now. And while I may think your action cruel, if he was violent towards you, I do not think it senseless in the way the murder of the Joestars would be.” You touched the side of his face with all the tenderness in your body. “Now that all your clever schemes have been reduced to nothing but ashes, perhaps you can build from it something better, something that allows you to heal. You are not destined for a miserable life, there is no such thing as fate, you invent the future that you want to face, you don’t have to be fettered to your past anymore. And, if I may be so bold as to suggest, that my forgiveness can be your first step if you’re willing to take it.”
He hummed slightly and laid back down, finally closing his eyes, entirely worn out from the unexpected release of emotion. “You are a foolish woman to forgive a man like me.”
“Then a fool I shall be.” You leaned over to him and kissed his forehead gently before moving off the bed. Turning back only once to see his body relax, one hand holding his hair off of his forehead. With that, you left the room and returned to your makeshift bed on the couch; with Dio’s stay extended, it was something you figured you had better get used to.
The warmth on Dio’s skin lingered where you had kissed him. He hadn’t felt such warmth since his mother was alive, he touched the spot you had kissed as if trying to hold onto this unfamiliar feeling in his chest, but despite his efforts, it began to fade, just as every good moment in his life had. Part of him wished you had stayed next to him, maybe that feeling would be recaptured. ‘Remarkable’.
Notes:
Did I title the entire story after the Fleetwood Mac song Future Games just so I could quote it in this specific circumstance?
YOU BET I DID!You don't know how excited I have been to share this chapter, I wrote this back in January and it was the reason why I inevitably decided to post this story, normally when I write things I just keep them for myself.
We know Dio has trauma on top of trauma, but this man thinks that burying everything is a healthy coping mechanism. Like, he has never opened up about his trauma to anyone before. It's totally normal to have night terrors, right?Wuthering Heights, my beloved; such an underrated classic, hope you enjoyed my unhinged lit class (it will happen again, this is a threat.)
Next chapter will be softer, I promise :)
Chapter 4: We Could Be So Good Together
Chapter Text
The dim winter sunlight streamed in through the window. Despite your lack of sleep, you woke up feeling both refreshed and accomplished.
You meandered through the halls of your home, despite it being the same space it always had been, everything felt different somehow. Languidly, you twirled out into the backyard, your blanket draped over your shoulders looking rather like a fairy queen in her garden kingdom. There was a chill in the air, but the gentle rays of the morning sunlight and the softness of the breeze felt as though winter had never arrived at all. You spread your arms, letting the wind blow against the blanket, appearing now like some kind of seabird bird ready to take flight.
“So this is where you’ve run off to.” Dio’s voice came from behind you. It gave you a start, causing your blanket to fall from your shoulders and onto the dew-covered ground.
“Oh that’s just great, now I’ll have to wash this.” You fussed, picking the pathetic, damp fabric off the ground and folding it over one arm.
“I had not intended to startle you.” He replied casually, now leaning against the door frame. “But, you should probably come in now, we wouldn’t want you to catch a cold.” You shrugged but followed him inside, he shut the door behind you. You felt his hand softly graze your arm as he did. The touch was probably unintentional, but a shiver ran down your spine nonetheless.
You put the unfortunately dirty blanket in your hamper, which, with the addition of the blanket, was now more full than you'd like. Washing clothes in the 19th century was a particularly odious task and with the onset of winter, washing larger items became impossible altogether. “Looks like I can add one more thing to my to-do list” you sighed, as if your day wasn’t already busy enough with all the errands you needed to catch up on. “Oh, before I forget, you should probably give me your clothes.”
“Such a bold proposition,” Dio smirked and leaned in closer to you to watch your reaction carefully.
“No! I mean… I just, we should probably wash them, you’d probably be more comfortable…” Your voice trailed off to a helpless squeak, you walked into that one, and your beet red face was your own fault. Dio was particularly amused by how easy it had been to coax that reaction from you. “Listen” you began, gesturing into your bedroom because of my work, I wear a lot of men’s clothes, maybe you can find something that suits you.”
He moved in even closer and lightly wrapped his hand around your wrist. “I guarantee that nothing that fits you is going to fit me.”
He was staring down at you, emphasizing the vastness of the size difference between you. Dio was a remarkably large man and the clothes of this time were rather lacking in elasticity, so he was probably right. You had most of your pants tailored to fit your body perfectly. “Wait, I think I might have something, wait here.”
You turned and ran into your office, you began sorting through a trunk of nearly forgotten goods until you eventually found a pair of blue jeans. “Here, this is likely to be a better fit, they were my dad’s and he had asked me to mend them, I took them with me by mistake when I moved here.”
“How dreadfully American.” He scoffed, but in unfolding them, they did appear that they would fit him.
“I am American.” You reminded him by playfully poking his shoulder.
“Dreadfully so.”
“I-I would still prefer if you wore pants.” You could feel the blush creeping over your cheeks again.
“Hmph, would you really?” He hummed under his breath, there was a perfect sheepish expression scrawled across your face again. He loved to see it. He had already made his mind up about you, it wasn’t going to change.
“Y-yes, so I’ll take your old clothes, you can try these on, have a shower, and do whatever you’d like, I have a ton of things to do today.”
“I could accompany you.”
“That won’t be necessary, I have a method to my madness, besides, what would you wear? I doubt you want to go outside shirtless in the winter.”
He shrugged, it seemed like there was more madness than method, but so be it. Dio returned to your room and by the time you had collected your things and gotten ready to leave, his clothes were sitting neatly folded outside the door. You grabbed his clothes and added them to the pile of your own things and headed into town.
Your first stop was at the local tailor, you had things of your own to drop off and hopefully, the proprietor could manage to find something that would fit Dio. “Ahh, my favorite customer! I hoped you’d be coming by today, I managed to fix that sweater you left with me a couple of weeks ago, it was a bit of a challenge, but I managed it.” He beamed, clearly taking great pride in his craft.
“Thank you Lido, it looks amazing! That’s why you’re the best!” You held out the pretty blue garment, it now appeared as though it had never been damaged in the first place.
“Now, I see you’ve brought some more projects for me, haven’t you?” He gestured to the bundle in your arms.
“Oh yes, the button came off these pants, I was hoping you could replace it.”
“An easy fix.”
“And I also have this dress, I bought it secondhand and it’s beautiful but the fit is all wrong, it needs to be taken in a little bit, as you can see where I tried myself and it didn’t go so well.” An abashed grin spread across your face as you showed him where you’d seam ripped the entire side.
“Young lady, that is why you leave it to the professionals! You could ruin such fine material like that.”
“I know, I was hoping I could just pin it in place while I was wearing it but… that didn’t really work.”
“Ahh, but I can see what I can do, the color would look lovely on you.” It was a pretty lavender color, you’d bought it because you thought you’d never seen such a fine color in this time, especially in such a lovely satin material. You had no idea when you’d have use for such a nice dress, but from the moment you saw it, you knew it had to be yours.
“Thank you, and lastly, I was wondering if you had any clothes in this size?” You placed Dio’s clothes on the counter in front of the man. “Recently, a friend has come to stay with me and he is in need of some more things.”
The man behind the counter took the clothes and studied them carefully. “This certainly isn’t your average size, you must be living with a giant!” He surveyed the clothes, they were of excellent craftsmanship, he silently wondered what would cause a distinguished gentleman to be living with such a rambunctious American tomboy, the situation must be rather bizarre. “But you are in luck, I always use larger clothes for the dress forms in my window, I think with a little mending I can make them work, if you come back later this afternoon I’ll have them ready for you, anything else you want will take some time.”
“Lido, you’re a star, an absolute star! I am immensely grateful for you!”
“Ahh, well I must do my best for one of my favorite customers.”
“Oh, you’re too kind! Thank you, thank you so much, I will be back later.”
You left the shop feeling rather pleased, that was one problem completely solved. You hurried through the rest of your errands, you picked up enough vegetables to last several days and some ingredients you may have been lacking including flour and cinnamon among other things, and lastly stopping at the bakery for some fresh bread.
Once you completed your errands you hurried back to the tailor. “Ahh, you’ve returned, I’ve finished what I can for your friend.” The man exclaimed pridefully as he handed you a package wrapped in brown paper. “I do believe they will suit your friends nicely, and I took all the necessary measurements for anything else you may be wanting.”
You explained what you wanted as the man hastily scribbled notes on a sheet of paper. “If that will be all, I will try to have these ready for you in a few week's time.”
Thank you Lido, you can’t even begin to imagine what a huge help you’ve been to me today.” You shook his hand gracefully and collected your pack, your mended sweater, and Dio’s old clothes. This had been a far more fruitful endeavor than you could’ve imagined.
“Goodbye, young lady, I wish you good luck with your friend!” He waved you off as you exited his shop. You realized to yourself that he had deliberately undercharged you for the clothes; a nicety you were very thankful for since this was an unexpected expense.
You returned home in the evening to find Dio reading comfortably on your couch wearing nothing but the jeans you loaned and a towel draped over his shoulders. Lord, have mercy.
He had hardly ventured to look up when you opened the door. “It looks like you have made yourself rather comfortable,” you said with a laugh, setting down your bags so you could take off your coat and shoes.
“Do all you Americans act this way?” He mused, casually flipping the page, “if that is the case, they are just as churlish as you.”
You looked at him with a puzzled expression, only now noticing your copy of The Adventures of Huckleberry Finn in his lap. “I’m not sure, do all Englishmen think salt is spicy?”
“Hmm, I guess they are all ill-mannered then.” He sneered, closing the book and getting up to meet you at the door.
“Hey-hey, I was just joking. And I am not ill-mannered, I’m from a very proper family and I have a very proper upbringing, a-and I’m from a completely different region; America is huge, you know- Hey!”
He had already met you at the door and had begun gathering your discarded things. “Oh, I didn’t need you to do that, besides,” you made a grand gesture, grabbing the brown parcel, “I come bearing gifts.”
“For me?”
“Of course for you, I figured since you’re going to be staying here a while you should have some new clothes to wear.” He took the parcel and undid the twine around it. He scrutinized its contents with a slight scowl. “Go on, go try something on and make yourself… decent.” Seeing his muscular frame in such a state of undress caused that familiar yet ever so disobedient blush to adorn your cheeks again. There was no denying how gorgeous he was, pristine and statuesque, he had a somewhat unreal quality about him, a beauty that you had only ever seen captured in paintings and never before in the flesh. You felt remarkably wrong, but you couldn’t help but stare.
You wandered further into the house, the entire kitchen smelled as though someone had been cooking food. “Hey, are you making something?” You called to him from across the house.
“I made dinner, you had been gone all afternoon, so I figured you would not have the time.” He now exited the room clad in his new clothes, looking far more like you remembered him in his gentlemanly attire. “You really didn’t have much to work with, I had to use your leftover soup and potatoes to make something that resembles a shepherd’s pie.”
“Well, it smells amazing,” he was once again standing beside you, unforgivingly close. “And wow… you look incredible”
Without missing a beat he wrapped his arms around you and pulled you in close to him. Your body stood frozen, unable to process the sudden contact. “I think you are the kindest person I have ever met.”
The hug was a bit awkward and mechanical as if he wasn’t sure of himself, but you could feel his heart beating as he held you. His body was warm and he smelled like your sweet vanilla soap. Although the connection only lasted several seconds, you could’ve sworn it had been hours. When it finally broke you were left feeling unsteady on your feet, so much so that Dio had to help you to the table. You harbored hope that his affection would continue at the table, but it did not.
He only spoke of mundane things, like asking you about your work and if you would like the bed that night, as he didn’t have to go anywhere. You assured him you were fine on the couch, besides, he was so much larger than you that you weren’t even sure he would fit on the couch.
After dinner, he once again thanked you for the new clothes, then wished you good night, leaving you alone to ponder his actions as you made up your bed on the couch. Even though he had gone, you still felt the warmth of a blush on your cheeks, thinking of how he’d looked when sitting on the couch earlier, his body a pristine, otherworldly beauty. Your mind picturing every detail you had subconsciously remembered, only enhanced by the memory of how his body had so briefly touched yours so tenderly. The tempting thought of being wrapped in your bed sheets with his bare skin against yours crept into your thoughts. You pressed your hand to your chest and felt your racing heart, ‘cool it,’ you thought grabbing the fabric of your shirt, ‘he’s a guest, you can’t think of him like that’. But you drifted back to last night. These complications were exactly why you’d sworn off relationships, especially in this century. There was simply too much at stake. But you couldn’t deny how badly you wanted him.
Unbeknownst to you, however, once Dio was back in the bedroom he was overcome with a flurry of emotions he couldn’t make sense of and a curious tightness in his chest was not helping. He thought deeply of you, how every glance, every smile, every gesture you made seemed to contain within it some strange magic. These emotions were all so unnatural to him. Even when he was around other people he never really felt understood. Even when he had crowds of people singing his praises it never made a difference, maybe it was because he knew exactly what he needed to do or say to get them on his side. They were a means to an end, as such they never meant anything to him. With you, however, it was different. He still couldn’t understand your motivation for helping him, even after he told you all the worst parts of himself you stood there, calm and brave as you accepted him. No, he couldn’t figure you out, nor could he make sense of this feeling inside him.
Perhaps it was one he’d felt many years ago, but one that he had long forgotten.
Notes:
WHAT IF HE'S WRITTEN 'MINE' ON MY UPPER THIGH ONLY IN MY MIIIII-I-I-ND?!
Don't worry, dear reader, these may just be fatal fantasies for now, but I wouldn't have 30+ chapters written if you were *just* doing it in your head. But boy, do I love pining!!!
Now Dio has some clothes which I think is a good thing? It's okay, topless Dio is a canon event that no amount of timeline meddling will ever change. Oh, the boy's a slag.
Chapter Text
You were back at work after quite an exciting weekend. All that excitement, however, translated into a loss of sleep and you were finding it dreadfully hard to focus on what you needed to be doing.
It felt odd to just fall back into your routine after such a tumultuous weekend, but it had to be done, so you mustered up all your strength to focus on what your boss was saying at the meeting you’d all been called into that morning. Your mind continued to drift while his voice droned on about different topics, notable breakthroughs, the recent success of the latest lecture at one of the local universities, and other such topics. Only did your ears prick up when he gave the announcement that one of the oldest employees was retiring at the end of the year, meaning his position would be open for a successor in the coming new year. The director made it very clear that the position would be filled by whomever he was most impressed with before the annual closure for the holidays.
If you were chosen that would mean you’d be leading experiments, you would also be able to get your work published. It would be a marvelous thing to happen, but you knew your chances were slim. There were plenty of men who had worked there far longer than you had, and besides, you were a woman. And while most of your coworkers didn’t mind; you did good work and that was all that mattered, there were some that still found it improper.
No, even if your boss was thoroughly impressed by you, it would be a point of contention among some of the others, it wouldn’t be wise, and you knew it. So, you tried your best to push the thought out of your mind, no matter how much you knew you wanted it, it wasn’t worth getting your hopes up for such a remote possibility only to have them crushed, but still, it was a nice thought.
‘You can’t always get what you want’ you thought to yourself as you walked over the cobblestone streets in darkness; the chill of winter finally setting in for good with the recent onset of December.
The sun had already gone down and the sky was clear and starry save for a few wispy clouds.
“What a day!” You declared in an overly friendly tone as you entered your little flat; freeing yourself from your coat and shoes on the threshold before heading into the kitchen where Dio was sitting at the table with somewhat of a sour expression on his face. “Have you eaten yet?” You asked, standing at the table beside him and cocking your head to one side as you looked at him.
“Not yet.” He responded, not without a hint of harshness in his curtness. “I didn’t know how long you were going to be.”
“Oh, I’m so sorry, you should have, I usually get home pretty late.”
“It isn’t safe, you know, walking all alone at night like this.” His scowl intensified.
“Are you worried I might pick up another roommate? Don’t worry, I promise you’re the only one.” You cast him a silly, cheerful smile to lighten the mood, his expression however did not change; he wore the same cruel frown as if you had deeply offended him.
“Dio, I’ve been doing this for more than two years, so thank you for the concern, but I know how to take care of myself.”
“Suit yourself, I was only pointing out the obvious. You are only a woman after all.” That didn’t come out how he wanted it to. All of his concern was coming out as rage instead. He wanted to express to you that he was worried when it had gotten dark and you still hadn't returned home. He wanted to tell you how relieved he had been when he saw that you were finally safe. He couldn’t make sense of these curious, desperate feelings; the need to know you were safe from all the horrid possibilities had swirled through his brain.
He had wanted to tell you all these things; but despite all the words that filled his head, he couldn’t manage to make any of them come out right, so instead it only looked like he was angry with you.
“Well, let’s see if we can throw something together; then we can eat together, okay?” You tilted your head to the side and offered him a little smile. You shook off his unpleasantries and rolled up your sleeves before getting to work.
Dio acquiesced and joined you, feeling rather pitiful. He had intended to cook, he had intended to have everything set for when you got home, but as the evening got on and you still hadn’t arrived home, he became vexed by worry and he had all but forgotten.
You managed a simple dinner and set two places at the table. Several times you attempted conversation, but to no avail. The air in the room was heavy with an awkward tension. You ate the rest of your meal in silence.
He excused himself to your room without so much as a word, leaving you alone at the table.
A confused grimace covered your face. You sat there alone for several minutes, trying to listen for any sound of him in your room, but not a sound was made.
‘What a baby, if he thinks freezing me out is going to work…dammit.’ You threw your head back over the edge of the chair. What a frustrating man. Who was he to think you weren’t capable of taking care of yourself? You were the one who rescued him. And here he was… well, you supposed it was out of concern rather than malice. Perhaps you were being too harsh, but still.
With a huff, you cleaned the dishes and went for a shower. The purifying water melted away the stress and tension of the long day and left you feeling remarkably better. ‘That’s it, no more silliness,’ an idea popped into your head, you grabbed a book from the shelf and headed Dio’s room, well, it was your room, but Dio was using it as though it were his.
You hesitated at the door, how had he made you feel like a guest in your own house? Summoning enough resolved, you knocked lightly on the door. “Dio... I know you’re not asleep yet, I’ve brought something to show you. Can you open the door?”
He didn’t respond, but he opened the door for you.
“Here.” You held up a book to his face so he could see the cover. “This is my favorite book, it might be my favorite thing that I own. It’s very important to me.” It was a very well-loved copy of Lord of the Rings that you had owned since your childhood. The spine was cracked, the cover was bent, and several pages had been dogeared or otherwise folded from years of use. “Would you like me to read it to you?”
“I can read it for myself.” He retorted, reaching for the book as you pulled it away.
“I’m sure you could, but I didn’t ask that.” You held the book close to your chest, your fingers running through the pages as a means to calm your nerves while you looked directly at him, awaiting his response.
He pondered for a second, it was an odd suggestion, he hadn’t been read to in a terribly long time, but before he could think to reject the offer he found himself agreeing.
Upon his acceptance, your face lit up with glee. “Really?” Your entire disposition filled with such mirth that you excitedly jumped onto your bed in a rather childish display, gesturing to him to sit beside you. “Alright, now you’re going in blind, and I don’t have The Hobbit to read you first, so I’ll just have to fill in the gaps along the way, thankfully I have read this book more times than I can count, so I am more than qualified to explain everything in vivid detail.”
He sat on the edge of the bed and leaned over to you, taking the book from your hand to leaf through it, it certainly had seen better days. “I should hope so if you’ve rendered it to such a state.” He snickered and handed it back to you.
“I can’t help it, I’ve never read anything else that feels exactly like getting a warm hug from your dearest friend.” Dio scowled at this, truthfully that wasn’t something he had any understanding of, currently his dearest friend was probably... you. He bit at the inside of his cheek to distract from this unsettling notion. “Even when it’s scary or sad, it makes me feel so secure. The first time I read it as a child I knew it was something special, and it’s stayed with me ever since. It’s brought me comfort during the worst times in my life, I’m hoping it’ll offer some to you as well.” Briefly, you were brought back to your childhood; images of you at around age eight or nine floated through your brain, your little self curled up under the shade of one of the trees in the backyard of your family home, tendrils of grapevines brushing against your skin where the plants had outgrown their trellis. You thought of how different Dio’s childhood must’ve been from yours. You grew up not wanting for anything; you had all the security and love a child should have with not only successful parents, but also adoring grandparents who had nurtured your promising intellect with access to fine schools, hobbies, and other frivolities that their place in society provided them. Compared to you, Dio’s experience was unrecognizable as a proper childhood. How awful it must’ve been for him to miss out on so much life, to have his years of innocence swallowed by fear and abuse. Your heart shattered for him, desperately wanting to show him the comfort he’d never known.
He gave you a curious glance, that was a lot of weight to be placed on a book, but now he couldn’t deny you, even if he’d wanted to. Truthfully, he was excited, he had been feeling a bit bitter about what happened at dinner, so this felt like a new start to the evening.
You leaned your back into the downy pillows of your bed and tucked your legs beside you while Dio curled up in the spot next to you. You beckoned him to come closer so he could also see the pages. His eyes glimmered with satisfaction as he moved so close that his legs were almost touching yours. He snaked an arm behind you; not quite resting it on your shoulders, but rather the pillows behind you, but the closeness was enough to cause your chest to tighten. You recalled how this hadn’t been the first time you’d been in his arms, and part of you selfishly hoped it wouldn’t be the last. “A-alright, Chapter One; a long-expected party…” Dio watched intently, transfixed by your visage as you spoke. His eyes keenly traced the line of your lips as you carefully enunciated each word, noticing the change in your demeanor when you’d pause to enthusiastically explain some tidbit of lore he was missing. He found everything about you endearing, and there was something about you that seemed freer than most other people he’d met.
“See, most people think Frodo is the main character, but I think it’s really Sam.” You explained excitedly with a cheerful giggle.
“Is that so?” His tone attempted to be disinterested, but in truth, he was enjoying the entire interaction.
“Oh, yes! The book has a running theme of unlikely heroes; in The Hobbit, Bilbo was the most unlikely hero of them all, but here who would be more likely to continue the adventure than his heir and nephew, Frodo? But then there’s Sam, the honest, humble, hardworking gardener who willingly throws himself into danger for his friend. So much of the story would be different if Sam wasn’t always steadfastly at Frodo’s side, but I won’t spoil anything, you’ll have to put up with my rambling until the end so you can find out.”
“Then you ought to continue.” He smirked at you, then nestled in deeper, placing his chin on your shoulder. The sudden contact sent a rush of heat through your body, but you couldn’t deny that seeing him rest softly against your body was a pleasant sight. You thought that it somehow did not seem out of place.
“Hey, I’ve already read you two chapters!” You feigned protest, letting your hand playfully touch his leg.
“Oh? But the night is young, I think you have time for another. Unless you had some other activity in mind for tonight.” His eyes narrowed sharply, but there was still a gleam of playfulness behind the mischievous glance he ventured to send you.
Immediately his lips curled into a devious smirk when he saw the rosy tint that had made its way across your face. “Fine, one more chapter, then I’m going to bed.” You placed a hand on your hip and attempted to look at him sternly.
“That seems acceptable.” He mused, his fingers traced along the line of your collarbone, sending jolts of electricity through your entire body, instantly breaking all composure.
You shakily read through the next chapter, trying, but failing to ignore the gentle touches that were setting your body ablaze. “O-okay, it’s time for bed.” Your voice was more breathless than you’d hoped, not concealing any of your feelings.
“Excellent.” He took the book from your hand and placed it on the nightstand before turning down the blankets with a vague attempt to pull you closer to him.
“Dio…” you whined.
“Oh, are you not staying here tonight, I assumed you were intending on sleeping in a bed tonight.”
The offer was almost tempting, but you knew that accepting would alter the dynamic immediately, and despite your longings, it wasn't something you were ready to deal with. You had not even endeavored a relationship in this century, you would be foolish to rush headlong into one now with so much at stake, especially with a man like Dio. “I can’t, I have work in the morning and…and it wouldn’t be appropriate.”
“Are you suggesting that I would attempt something inappropriate? Perhaps that is what you are thinking about.”
Shyness flooded your being as the flurry of your imprudent desires darted across your mind and rendered your words a feeble mess of stuttered murmurings. “I-I’m only suggesting that it would be inappropriate because you’re my guest, but if you’re good, I’ll read you more tomorrow.”
Such insolence, who were you to speak to him that way? If it were anyone else he would’ve been cross, but because it was you, he found it oddly charming. “That shouldn’t be hard as I am always a perfect gentleman.”
“Well, we’ll have to see about that.” You rolled your eyes and got out of bed. “I hope you sleep well, okay? I’ll see you in the morning.” You waved him off before returning to the couch for another difficult night of sleep. His offer to stay in bed seemed more tempting than ever. Denying your own feelings was becoming significantly harder than you imagined. You held onto every little touch, casual or otherwise, shamefully wanting more.
Dio cursed the bedsheets that were now empty of you. He guided his hand tentatively over the spot where you had laid, feeling the residual warmth that your body had abandoned. A faint smell of your sweet perfume still lingered in the air, taunting him. He could picture you there, filling the spot you’d left for a no doubt less comfortable place on the couch. His desire to have you there was overwhelming, concerning even. He thought of how you’d look asleep beside him; his arms wrapped lazily around your waist, your body reacting ever so slightly to his sleepy touches as he pulled you in closer to him to feel your warmth on his skin as the rhythmic beating of your heart lulled him into sleep.
For days on end, he entertained this nonsense. The days had folded into weeks and every night you diligently curled up beside him in a closeness that should only be shared by lovers. You would adoringly read to him, pausing the story every so often to interject some personal idea or passionately wax about a passage you particularly enjoyed, all the while permitting him to hold you in a way far more intimate than he had ever held another woman; even his former lovers were not granted the privilege of the tenderness and the patience he was showing you. Then, without fail, every night, you would offer him a heartfelt goodnight and leave him once again, stranded in your bed. The thoughts of you reeling through his head unapologetically. Visions of his hands tangled messily in your tousled hair, your body flushed and warm with desire against his. The comfort of the mattress supporting your two bodies as he so thoroughly made you his. The image of your sweet little face glazed over with lust as you panted his name in the throes of carnal gratification was a viscerally tempting fantasy he bitterly hoped to make a reality. After so many days of this, his tolerance for these casual rejections was growing thin. Could you really be so daft as to not notice his longing for you? Had he not made his intentions clear enough through his actions; cooking you dinner, waiting like a damn dog every day for you to return from work just to indulge in comfort brought by even your platonic presence. Were you really unaware, or were you simply toying with him? Either way, it was enticing, but either way, something would have to change before long. He could only live with this pining for so long, it was a casual, comforting torture.
Notes:
Oh boy, the pining is certainly mutual!
Hm, reader sharing a book with Dio that is flagrantly not from the 19th century. There is certainly no way that this could possibly go wrong.
When deliberating what book I wanted reader and Dio to share I ran through a litany of different options before settling on Lord of the Rings for reasons that will become abundantly clear in later chapters. I had some clear rules for what the book had to be, as literature is so prominent a theme in this story. For a reason I’m sure you can probably guess (as I have so unceremoniously hinted to it above), the book had to be written in the relative future from when this story takes place. Despite this, it also couldn’t be something that would immediately arouse suspicion in its setting, hence why a fantasy seemed ideal. It also had to be a children’s book in some capacity; not just because it is undeniably cute to picture big, scary Dio curled up beside his sweet little reader with a book he’d probably think too pedestrian to consider reading himself, but also for a very particular reason in a very far off chapter that hasn’t even been fully written yet. In a sense, Lord of the Rings toes the line as it’s not exactly a children’s book. The Hobbit undeniably is, but the rest of the series certainly blurs that line, but since I and many others first read it as children I figured it would still work in this case, especially for its many other merits. Perhaps I am just being overly pedantic. More over, it had to be long enough to be referenced in later chapters. Lord of the Rings was the only one that fit the bill for me.
And, just as a fun tidbit; around the time that my friends and I started to rewatch JoJo (the ill-fated decision that would lead to my obsession with our favorite blond villain) I was also in the process of rereading the trilogy. So, on New Year’s Eve, after exactly two glasses of white wine, I was feeling pretty damn creative and began to explain exactly how Lord of the Rings and JoJo are basically the same. Of course taking extreme liberties with this analysis. But what I eventually settled on was that Kars is Melkor, and therefore Dio is Sauron; though a lesser being than Kars/Melkor, his tenacity makes him just as, if not more lethal. That would make the Crusaders the Fellowship. It’s obviously not a 1:1 connection, but I assure you that Joseph would insist on being Gandalf, citing that The Hermit card resembles him, and since this is his second part, he deserves to get first pick. Even though Avdol with the Magician and his fortune telling abilities (plus the fact that he ‘dies’ and then comes back) would probably be a better fit. Kakyoin would probably want to be Legolas because he likes green. :) But he would have to be Boromir because he dies. :) Jotaro would want no part in the nonsense (he’d want to be Aragorn and would be very upset when I inform him that he’d have to be Frodo).
Chapter 6: What A Shame About Me
Notes:
Conflict is brewing...
CW: for discussion of past abuse (mostly implied).
(See the end of the chapter for more notes.)
Chapter Text
And so the days continued in relative peace. You had made it a point to get home from work earlier; before it got too dark if you could help it. Of course, this meant you were leaving earlier in the morning, but you weren’t about to jeopardize your career at the behest of a man. This was a change your blond companion was at least inwardly grateful for, even though he would never express it to you verbally. But with the possibility of a promotion looming over your head, no matter how remote your chances were, you had to continue applying yourself, even if you found your mind drifting elsewhere many times throughout your work days.
But overall life with Dio proved to be more enjoyable than you would’ve thought as the two of you settled into a peaceful rhythm together. You found yourself wondering if pursuing a relationship wouldn’t be such a bad idea after all. You enjoyed his company more than you could tell. It surprised you how much you looked forward to coming home to someone each evening and sharing casual conversation over a meal. You took great pleasure in your discussions over various books or art or any other fancy Dio cared to indulge you in at the moment; he seemed to have something profound to say on any subject, and he enjoyed hearing your insights; all of your words sounded pretty to him. In a way, it felt flattering. Of course, his regular requests for you to share the bed left you feeling that, if nothing else, he at the very least was interested in you, and after so many weeks of cat and mouse, it had become nearly impossible for you to deny your own feelings, which by now had blossomed into an unmitigated desire, far beyond the simple, childish crush you'd tried to write it off as.
You hadn’t previously entertained the possibility of becoming romantically entangled with another person since you’d ended up in the 19th century, but Dio was so tantalizingly close, yet somehow just out of your reach. You would be lying if that hadn’t made him all the more desirable. So beautifully and wretchedly forbidden.
And so, the end of another week had come, and you had found yourself greatly looking forward to the weekends ever since Dio had taken up lodging in your home. You made sure to get out earlier than usual in the hopes of a pleasant evening at home. December had come and the air had grown frosty and cool, and chilly rain became a regular phenomenon, but your home seemed warmer than it ever had before.
The routine had been well established, every day after a simple breakfast you would leave for work, leaving Dio to his own devices in your home. Normally he found something to entertain himself until you returned home. Whether this be reading one of your many books, simply meandering in his private thoughts, or rifling through the various items you had out in an attempt to gain a more intimate understanding of you, he always found something to keep him busy. In truth, he’d grown rather comfortable in your home.
This day in particular he found himself lounging rather indolently in your bedroom, it must’ve been the weather. The sun had gone away and in its place was a hazy mush of grey clouds that perpetually threatened to rain. He sifted through the contents laid out on your vanity, you had a surprising amount of cosmetics, including a rather impressive array of lipsticks. He lifted one from its meticulous spot and observed its deep red color; he thought it would look quite lovely on you. He pictured you waiting for him on your bed, with your hands between your knees, clad in nothing but a flimsy white negligee, and your lips stained with crimson. You’d beckon him towards you. He could picture the way his hands would caress over your delicate body, you were soft and malleable to his every touch. Your soft lips would kiss him and the color could transfer in faded smudges to his alabaster skin.
He scoffed, returning the lipstick to its appropriate spot. These fantasies had plagued his mind far more than he wished. Whenever he closed his eyes he was met with some vision of you in a compromising position. That was far more than he bargained for. You were supposed to be begging for him. He was not supposed to be the one waiting in desperation. He exhaled sharply in an attempt to shake off the unpleasantness of the feeling.
He looked at several others, they seemed somehow odd to him. In fact, there were a great many things in your home that seemed odd. He returned to your bed, absentmindedly reaching onto the nightstand where you’d left your copy of Lord of the Rings. He thumbed through it carefully, there must be some reason why you put so much importance on such a silly thing. It was a fine story, good even, but to say it was the most important thing you own… ‘hmm, how strange.’
Despite the chilly air, your walk home was pleasant, but you were glad to be home, life felt so peaceful and full of wonder. “Ah, it’s good to be home!” You declared as you entered your flat, hurrying out of your coat. “I heard that we could be getting some rain this weekend, but I’m sure we can find something to keep us busy indoors~” your flirtatious remark went unanswered. “Hey, is everything alright?” Dio was sitting on the couch with a contemptuous look on his face. “Is there something I can do?”
“Let’s see, you could start by explaining this little anomaly I found.” He gestured towards your copy of Lord of the Rings on the table. You felt your heart drop to the pit of your stomach.
“Dio—”
“I don’t enjoy being lied to.” He wasn’t exactly shouting, but the sternness of his voice left you nearly frozen.
“I can explain… I promise, I can explain.”
“I see, then explain how it is unequivocally 1888, and yet somehow your book here is dated 1955, there seems to be a discrepancy.”
“You wouldn’t believe me if I told you…”
“I told you everything about myself, against my own better judgment, but I had assumed we were being honest with each other.” His expression hardened, he stared at you with a fiery rage burning with flames of deep vermillion in his amber eyes.
“And I-I will… I will tell you everything.” You took a deep breath, his gaze was unrelenting. “I’m not from this time, I am from the 21st century, and through some power unknown to me I ended up here.”
“I told you I do not enjoy being lied to” he started to raise his voice.
“I know it sounds insane, I tried to rationalize it to myself, amnesia or hysteria, but it wasn’t true.” You knelt to the bottom shelf and retrieved a tall but thin volume. “Here.”
He took the book from your hand and opened the pages, “photographs…?”
“They’re mine, this was my life, one of the few things that remains of that existence.” Your face fell into a glum expression as you glanced over the images. A glossy patchwork of your former life.
He scanned over the page and landed on a photograph of you as a child in a fussy red Christmas dress complete with a large green bow. It was dated 2005. “I’ve never heard of such a thing, how could one manipulate time?”
“It's not exactly commonplace where I’m from either, one moment I was waiting on the corner, about to see my family for the holidays, and the next thing I knew I was here, in the 19th century, that was two years ago.”
“You haven’t been able to get back to where you belong?” His tone had softened now and you breathed a sigh of relief. “Or do you just not want to go back?” That was harsher.
“I—uh...” you were too stunned to speak, this wasn’t even a question you had even allowed yourself to consider in the two years since you’d been here.
He continued to flip through the pages “I had always figured you were running away from something, but I’d assumed you’d just run away from America, but to run away more than a hundred years into the past is something truly extraordinary.”
“I didn’t run!” You bit back, feeling tears begin to well up in your eyes, intentional or not, you knew he was right. Even if you hadn’t ended up in the 19th century, you were planning on running. At Thanksgiving, you were going to tell your parents that you were meaning to quit your job, admit defeat, and start over completely. Instead, somehow, through sheer manifestation of your will, you were brought somewhere that no one would ever find you again. “I-I… I didn’t run…”
“Oh? That doesn’t sound very convincing.” His tone was more than sinister, almost malevolent as his gaze bore deeper into you than ever before.
You fought the tears by biting the edge of one of your fingernails, but your voice was weak and shaky. “I didn’t try to come here, I didn’t plan, it just happened. And I did what I had to do, I built a life here, I built something that is all my own, something I can be proud of.”
“So there wasn’t a life for you to build in your own time, is that why you ran away?”
His words felt like daggers in your chest, cutting into you with a poignancy that left your emotions unrestrained. “No, there wasn’t anything for me there, I had nothing and I was nothing!” You screamed, no longer capable of holding back your tears. All The harsh realities you had kept yourself from dealing with flooded back to you in an instant. “I couldn’t get myself together, I barely had a job, I was a disappointment to my parents, and I ruined nearly all of my relationships. I had nothing. I was useless.”
Dio was taken aback by your sudden display of emotion, all the hurt he had been feeling over your perceived deceit was gone, he hadn’t meant for you to cry, he just wanted you to know how badly it made him feel that you had hid something so important from him. “I didn’t mean it like that.”
“How else could you have possibly meant it, and you’re right, are you happy?” You slumped down on the couch beside him, your head in your hands. “I was a failure. My parents gave me everything I could’ve ever wanted, every opportunity, and all they wanted was for their daughter to follow in their footsteps, go to law school, take her rightful spot at their firm, be a part of their legacy. And I could’ve done it, I had the grades, the connections, my choice of any number of prestigious universities, but I had to squander it to be mediocre at my own thing.”
“I don’t understand, you are a phenomenal scientist.” His voice was so tender that you’d almost forgotten what he’d said before. Almost.
“I’m a phenomenal scientist here. And it’s only because I have about 130 years of history and experience that the men I work with do not have, in my time I wasn’t anything special.”
“And so what, you should use the advantages that you have, that doesn’t make you a failure.”
“No, you don’t understand, I was a wreck, I’ve been a wreck since I turned 20. You don’t know how pitiful it is to have such a promising adolescence only to crumble into an unfortunate adulthood; asphyxiated by your own failures?”
“I think I would know something about that, '' he scoffed, unsure of what to make of your outburst.
You brushed off his remark and continued your tirade. “It wasn’t until I got here that I was forced to pull myself together; it was do or die, so I did what I had to. I abandoned my youth and left everything behind because I had to. I freed myself from my past because it didn’t matter anymore. I chose to relinquish it all so I never had to face it.” The tears streamed down your face in a violent torrent and your mind raced through all of the memories you had tried so carefully to hide away. “And how could I? How could I face myself after I threw my life away and wasted all my potential?”
Dio slid his hand to your arm in a vain attempt at comfort that went ignored. You were already too far gone, it hurt too much now. “And do you know what the worst part is? Through it all my parents accepted me, all of my choices, everything, even though I know it burned them inside, they accepted me, and I resented them for it. I ruined my relationship with them, just like I ruined everything else.” Your eyes darted over your photo album, several pictures of you among your family and friends; things that were lost to time now. Abruptly you shut the book with a force that was usually foreign to you; Dio noticed the change in your demeanor. “Because how could I… how could I face myself after I let a boy leave me ill-used and vacant?” Your nails dug desperately into your palms. “I gave him every part of me and it wasn’t enough so he took more and more until there was nothing left of me.” You were crying again, of all the feelings you’d run away from, this is the one you’d buried the deepest. “Do you know how hard it is… to leave?”
Dio breathed in sharply, you were crying and you were hurting and it was his fault and he did not know how to comfort you. It was a stinging pain in his chest. It was empathy.
“Even when it hurts, and you know you have to, it’s so hard, and it ruined me. He ruined me.” You covered your mouth with your hand, trying to take the words back, you had never admitted to yourself just how weak it made you feel. “In the end, I was… nothing.” He pulled you very closely into his arms. Now worn out from crying, your head crashed onto his chest, but the warmth was cold comfort as your tears soaked through his shirt. “I was so alone then, even more alone than I am here.”
He nodded, pulling you as close to him as he could, running his hands over your hair. “I’m—” he choked on the apology.
“I’m sorry, I’m a mess.” You squeaked, clinging to his shirt like an infant, feeling completely humiliated.
“You’re not. It’s Alright now.” He continued to pet your hair, hoping it would soothe you. “You didn’t deserve to be hurt like this.”
Finally, your crying ceased, he looked down at you, finding you asleep with your head on his chest. Everything about you seemed so soft and gentle. It pained him to think about you in that way, even more, to think that he’d caused it. “I didn’t mean for things to end up this way, I didn’t know—” He laid on the couch keeping you in his arms as you slept.
Dio had always had a complicated relationship with his mother. If there was ever a person he loved, it was her, but he never understood why she stayed with his father when he overworked and abused her every day until she died. He thought of what you said and of your eyes filled with tears. He understood it now.
He felt ashamed for hurting you. Certainly, he had said vicious things to people before, but he had never intended to be that way with you, you were so kind to him, and he repaid you so horribly. This is what you’d meant when you talked about the cycle of cruelty; he again failed to break it. He let his anger get the best of him again and it was to your detriment. Maybe there wasn’t any hope for him. Maybe he was meant to be a wicked person forever. Over the last several days he’d considered what it would look like, for him to move on, to be a changed man, if such a feat were even possible for him, now he wasn’t sure.
He looked at you, so angelic in his arms, he felt even worse enjoying the sight, he did not deserve such a thing. He ventured to kiss the top of your head. He admired the softness of your hair against his lips. Perhaps it would be better if he left, he would only end up hurting you if he stayed. The thought filled him with apprehension. You were so warm and welcoming, he did not want to leave, but all of his emotions were so complicated.
It was near midnight when you woke in his arms with a splitting headache.
“Ah-Dio…”
He pulled you in close again “I didn’t mean for…” he said in a voice just above a whisper, straining to get the words out properly.
“It’s alright.” You said in a voice now devoid of emotion. You pulled yourself away from him. “It wasn’t your fault, I just hadn’t thought of those things in a very long time.” You couldn’t bear to look at him knowing you’d thrown such a fit.
“I could make you something to eat, you must be hungry.” He offered, attempting to sound as good-natured as he could.
“No, I am very tired, I think I am just going to go to bed.”
He watched as you carried yourself to your bedroom; sullen and uncertain. He had made up his mind, he couldn’t stay with you.
Notes:
Dio learning that other people have emotions that are just as deep and complex as his :o
He promises that he's sorry, he just doesn't know how to express himself around you. He's never felt this way about...anyone, and he's...confused. He has a lot that he has to work through.
**I changed the title of this chapter because I need more Steely Dan references in this LOL
Guys, I've been working on editing the next few chapters but I have *bronchitis* so that's fun. For the past three days I've been doing my best impression of a feeble Victorian child laid up in bed after my doctor prescribed me seaside air as a cure for the consumption.
Because of this, I have had a lot of spare time to work on this silly story, but I don't feel 100% confident to edit in a way that I would be proud of, so it may be a little while before the next chapter gets posted. Please don't hate me!
On the bright side, I can now do a scarily accurate Bob Dylan impression.
Cheers!
Chapter 7: Go Your Own Way
Notes:
I'm serving up this one to your guys on a silver platter! Enjoy!
(See the end of the chapter for more notes.)
Chapter Text
The morning was as unforgiving as the night before. Your head still ached from the efforts of crying and you were still having a hard time making sense of all the emotions that had been stirred up. You sprawled out in your bed, accepting the familiar comfort of the way the sheets cradled your body, if nothing else you were grateful that you didn’t have work that morning.
It was several more minutes before you were able to get yourself out of bed. After such a tumultuous evening you were hoping for a better day ahead, but the possibility of another confrontation loomed over your head. Your mind reeled, darting from one possibility to another, finally giving you enough resolve to leave your room to satiate the need for food and water.
Dio was cooking breakfast in the kitchen with a troubled expression, lost entirely in a tangled mess of thoughts that he had not fully been able to sort out from the night before. “Wow, it looks like you got up early” you chuckled, forcing a friendlier disposition as you approached.
He nodded, but in truth, he had not slept at all the night before, he was too troubled to sleep. “Would you like some breakfast?” He looked up at you, attempting to hide his bitter expression but to no avail.
“Of course!” A meager smile was all you could muster in an attempt to stay friendly. He served you your breakfast and the two of you ate in near silence. The sound of the silverware clacking against the china was the only thing to break the palpable tension that hung heavy in the room.
When you were done, he moved to clear the table, his hand snatched your plate away from you without so much as a courteous glance. “Oh, don’t worry. I can clean up. You went through all the trouble of cooking, it’s only fair.” You suggested softly, meeting him halfway across the kitchen.
“No, I insist.”
“Well, then at least let me help you.” You pushed further, taking the spot next to him. He washed the dishes and handed them to you to dry, though the action felt almost warm and domestic, the motions were mechanical and awkward. The air between the two of you was thick with tension. “Dio, is everything alright?”
“I do not like what happened last night. I should not have acted in anger.”
“It's okay, we don’t have to talk about it. It’s over now, we can move on.'' Your little weary voice came out almost as a helpless squeak. You were still hurt but you’d rather leave the entire issue in the past, it wasn’t worth drumming up all those old emotions.
“I think I should go back to London.” He said with an abruptness that threw you for a loop. “I don’t believe there is anything left for me here, I will cut my losses with the Joestars and start over.”
“That sounds like a rather stupid idea.” The words that spilled out of your mouth were viciously cruel and even tasted bitter as they left your lips. “If you accused me of running away, then what do you call this?”
Outside the rain thrashed against the windows, leaving craggy blurs of icy droplets that fell in torpid streaks against the glass.
“The Dio Brando I know is a lot of things, but he is not a coward.” He scowled at your insolent remark, his glare seemed to pierce you deep in your chest. You softened your voice in response, in fear of making things worse. “I thought you liked me. Do you… not like me anymore?” You shifted your eyes away from him, feeling diffident in your confession. “By now you must know that I like you.”
His scowl faded to a subtle frown as he sighed. “I am well aware of your feelings, and you can rest assured that they do not go wholly unreciprocated. I believe I like you far more than I ought, and as such I cannot stay.” Before you could think to respond he was already walking towards the door.
You chased after him, overwrought with emotions. You had to make him stop. You had to make him listen to you. Though you had only known him briefly, the thought of him leaving made you feel hopelessly alone. “Please, don’t go, I said you could stay and I mean for you to, I don’t want you to leave.” You imagined you looked quite pathetic, begging for a near stranger.
“This is exactly why I can’t stay.” His voice was strained and raspy through gritted teeth. “I cannot let myself get involved with you, it would be too complicated, go back to your normal life, be brilliant as you are in all the things you do.”
“I’ll take all of your complications, I’ll take everything, just please, don’t leave me alone again, I don’t want to be without you. I want to be with you.”
“Are you listening to me at all? I can’t be with you, I could never give you what you need, I was not meant to be had in the way you want to have me. Do you understand?”
“Y-you wouldn’t even try?”
“If you want to trouble yourself with what could have been then be my guest, there are innumerable reasons why we could never be anything to each other. I’ve told you before that you are a foolish woman to believe in such sanguine ideals, and yet you persist undauntedly, pitifully.”
You faced the ground, tears had formed in the corners of your eyes, you reached out and grabbed his arm to faintly establish contact, forcing him to entertain your attention a while longer. Hoping, perhaps in vain, that the connection would placate his desire to leave.
He grimaced at your touch, so lethally comforting, everything about you made him want to stay, even looking at you was shaking the vague determination he’d been able to muster. “We were never even supposed to meet in the first place, you are not even supposed to be here, we are meant to be nothing to one another, and that is what we will go back to being.” He averted his eyes, still feeling the warmth of your hand on his arm. It wouldn’t be possible to stay, it would be foolish to try when so much could go wrong. “You ought to leave well enough alone.”
“Do you know what I think?” You firmly gripped his arm in a weak attempt to regain some control, feeling the strain in his muscles under your feeble grasp. You answered yourself before he had a chance to respond “I think you’re a scared little boy, Dio Brando.” He glared at you, his eyes flared scarlet with malice. He was always struck by your flagrant effrontery, the kind only a bold and foolish woman could summon. “I think you’re scared to let anyone in, scared to let anyone know you honestly, scared to know yourself honestly. I think you’ve become a facsimile of your own fears because you refuse to face them. I think… I think you’re so afraid to get hurt that you won’t let yourself be loved. I think that you’re just a scared little boy running away from his past, running away from everyone he’s hurt, running away from everyone that’s hurt him and you’ve built yourself a cage to keep everyone else out. Your own little world where only you get to exist, so carefully locked and chained so no one can get in, so you never have to face that hurt again. But you don’t realize that what you’ve really built yourself is a prison, and you’ve locked yourself in so far away from anyone’s reach but you’ll never escape the hurt you feel so deeply because the thing you’re truly most afraid to face is yourself. To face all the honest, uneven imperfections that come with being human. You’re scared that people are going to see you in a way that you can’t control, in a way that isn’t pretty, so you just lock yourself away instead and you see me standing here with the keys so willing to free you and you’re terrified because you see a myriad of possibilities. So much would be uncertain, so much unknown. No plans or schemes to assuage your fears and make you feel in control, and that’s okay. It’s okay to be scared, it’s okay to not know everything right from the start. But please, don’t just give up without trying. Please.”
“How audacious of you to think you can analyze me like one of your novels. Do you really think you know me so well, we are little more than strangers?” He shook his arm free of your grasp and pulled away from you once again. Still determined to break free of the spell you’d held him under.
“You’re right, I don’t know you at all, but I would like to.” You went to touch him again, but he moved out of your reach. “Please… I promise I won’t hurt you, all I’ve ever wanted to do is help you. Please, let me. I said I’d take all your complications and I meant it, you can give me all your pain, all your burdens, and I’ll try to make it okay, just please let me in, let me know you.”
He made a move to turn away, if he left now, you could forget about him, and your life would go back to normal, but your asking him so vehemently to stay made it harder to leave.
In a moment of either determination or desperation, you followed after him, you reached for his arm again and pulled him back to you, you couldn’t let it end, not like this. For only a moment, time felt as though it had stopped. Everything around you felt frozen in place. If you didn’t do something now, this scene would play out in your mind forever. It was now or never. You threw your arms around his shoulders and pressed your lips to his.
It was not a very romantic kiss, but the two of you held it longer than intended. You felt his lips press against yours in reciprocation while his hands found their way to your waist. Finally, he pulled away, keeping his forehead pressed to yours in restrained emotion. “Why did you do that?” His voice was airy and breathless in a way you had never heard from him before, the longing for what he had not been allowed to have for weeks clouded his judgment and caused his convictions to falter.
“I just wanted to know what it would feel like, and I didn’t know if I would ever get another chance.”
Now you’d done it, all the meager resolve he’d mustered to leave had been crushed by that one action. He held you in his arms, placing his chin against the top of your head. “I meant everything that I said.” You nuzzled closer to his chest as if the closeness would prevent him from leaving. You felt the tears that had welled up in your eyes spill onto the fabric of his shirt. “Please, don’t run from me.”
As far as he could remember he had never been kissed like that. Not with such a steadfast resolve. Not with such an intensity embedded so deeply within it.
His mind raked through the thoughts of his past lovers; and how his lips felt against theirs. Nothing came even remotely close. The secret thrill of the many clandestine affairs in which he had engaged all paled into comparison to one tiny, unromantic, inhibited display of a kiss. In spite of the caution that should have dulled any passion, a fire lingered on his mouth from where you’d been, making him vie for more.
Slogging through the diluted muddle of recollections that rattled through his brain like the ghostly chains of some long departed phantom, his mind finally landed on the memory of Erina Pendleton and how he had stolen her first kiss, that cruel action had gotten him nothing, she still loved JoJo and he was worse for it. What an odd thing to think about at a time like this. He’d long written her off as nothing more than a temporary nuisance. Just another plan that had gone awry.
He wondered now, how a relationship with you would look. Would it be much different from what it already was, just without the cloak and dagger business? In honesty, Dio had never considered the implications of pursuing a real relationship. He had never given much heed to the idea of romance. Certainly, he had been on dates before, several set up by Sir Joestar and the fathers of whichever well-connected local girls were entertaining suitors in the hopes of finding a favorable pairing. These events yielded little results with either himself or Jonathan; neither boy had much interest in any of the girls they had been paired with. Jonathan ever pined for Erina, and perhaps Dio was looking for a kind of woman that didn’t yet exist. In truth, he hated the dog and pony show of these arranged affairs between the children of the well-bred upper class. While he publicly entertained it to save face, privately, he often felt as though the wealthy nobles looked down on him for his humble origins. Of course, he carried the Joestar title and espoused himself of all of the many advantages it provided him, but he knew well that he was a Joestar in name only and he was painfully aware that everyone else knew it as well. While they outwardly treated him with the same dignity as Jonathan or any other nobleman’s son, he often wondered if he were privately reviled. He couldn’t help but believe that whenever he’d been matched with someone her father must’ve preferred for his daughter to end up with Jonathan rather than a commoner like him.
Not that it mattered. What care did he have for romance if he never intended on it anyway? He took what he wanted in his own time and then laid it to waste. Of course with his infinite charm and good looks, it was an easy task to make any girl fall head over heels for him, even seduce them if he so chose. He took great pleasure in wooing even the most proper of young ladies and enjoying them for as long as he fancied and abruptly ending the affair when he tired of their company. And naturally, he had personally courted a couple of girls of his own choosing during his time at college, but those relationships never amounted to anything meaningful. He questioned whether or not he’d even liked them or if he thought that going with them would give him some of the fulfillment he was lacking. He had never found much solace in any of those arrangements. It always seemed to him a lifeless endeavor.
It dawned on him that he could no longer ignore the feelings for you he had so vehemently attempted to deny. He thought it would be easier to run away from these desires in the hopes that you’d one day disappear from his thoughts, but he couldn’t. For weeks you had been so tantalizingly forbidden. A fruit from which he could not eat. Everything about your presence mocked him. The way you padded around your home in a dreamy, effortless sway, as though you were something more akin to a fairy-like creature rather than a human. Every kind word, every gentle, familiar touch taunted him. A reminder of what he could not have. Oh, but he wanted you. He wanted you in a way he had never wanted anyone else, he wanted you to be his, he wanted you to belong to him in a deeply personal way that no one could ever deny. He wanted everyone to look at you and immediately recognize that you belonged only to him and to no one else. He couldn’t stand the thought of a man other than him occupying your interest for even a second and he dreaded what his life would be like without you in it.
How could he return to what life was like before you had shown him what true kindness felt like after you had accepted him so valiantly, would anyone else accept him in such a magnanimous kind of way? If he left, he would be searching for that security until the end of his days.
“Please, please stay.” You reiterated, your teary eyes gazing up at him, a little bleary, but just as magnetizing as ever.
His body softened now, he had been utterly defeated. “It would seem you’ve given me no choice.” He held you close to him again and pulled you in for a longer, more romantic kiss. “You really are the most remarkable woman I have ever met,” he cupped your cheek in his hand before kissing you again. Many times he had thought about what it would be like to kiss you, but never in his wildest dreams could his imagination ever have compared to the indescribable effervescence of the real thing. The feeling was almost chaste. Almost.
He led you to the couch, and there you sat in his arms, watching as the icy rain fell against the window. Inside, it was warm and safe.
Notes:
LMAO GET KISSED LOSER!!!!!
Poor Dio, bested by an absolute cinnamon roll of a woman. At least he finally got to kiss his favorite little expatriate.
Did I borrow the line from their first kiss from Gilmore Girls? m.a.y.b.e.
I can't help it, I have a thing for *slutty blonds*Plenty more chaos to come soon!
I hope you all enjoy, thanks so much for reading!
Cheers!
Chapter 8: If I Had the World to Give
Chapter Text
Dio was content to just have you in his arms, just as you had from the moment he met you, you seemed to fit. Occasionally, he would steal a kiss or a gentle caress along the side of your waist. He loved watching your body react to his touches. Every movement was undoubtedly earnest. He loved touching you, he loved it even more now that you were his, in fact, he thought that he might never let you out of his arms again. From this vantage point, he was certain, that was where you belonged. There, with your small body in his arms, you were perfect, as though you had been designed just for him, a shape that fit perfectly within the hollows of his own.
“Does that sound good?” You asked, looking up sweetly at him with a supple tenderness to your disposition, but he only stared at you with a wistful look in his warm, glassy citrine eyes as he rubbed his hand over your thigh. “Dio…?”
“Yes, of course.”
“Are you even listening to me?” You turned towards him and shot him a stern glance that never had a hope of coming off as even vaguely threatening.
“Of course I am.” He had to admit, he had been a little distracted all afternoon, rather than listening he had been watching how your delicate lips moved as you spoke, thinking how much lovelier they’d be against his. And when he wasn’t staring at your lips, he was looking at your body, admiring every part of it; the way your fingers laced between his, how you crossed one loosely leg over the other, and the regular rise and fall of your chest as you breathed; he wanted to memorize every part of you. Having you like that he was certain that he had never seen a more beautiful woman.
“Oh, really, then what was the last thing I said?”
“Hmm, you were asking me to accompany you into town tomorrow.”
You folded your arms in a defiant pout, “that was just a lucky guess.”
“You should know,” he said, snaking his arms around your waist, “I listen to every word that you say.” A gentle kiss was placed behind your ear causing your back to arch in response, he enjoyed that reaction most of all. A delightful purr reverberated against the skin of your neck the titillating sensation was enough to bring a blush to your cheeks.
“I-is that so…” the words came out in a pathetic stutter as you stood up, “...it’s getting quite late.” You kept your back to him in an attempt to hide your simmering red face as you walked across the room to the window, pulling back the curtains you could see the rain glistening off the streets in the subtle glow of the streetlights. Heavy drops poured from the sky and cascaded sorrowfully down the window. You could feel the cold air through the glass. It was a stark contrast to the feeling inside your flat. If all the havoc from the previous day led to something so brilliant, it was certainly worth it.
Dio appeared behind you and placed his heavy hands on your shoulders. Goosebumps immediately covered your skin. “My, are you that cold?” He mused, allowing his hands to crawl down your back at an agonizingly slow pace before settling them firmly on your hips.
“No, I mean, yes, it’s very cold tonight.” Your fingertips ghosted over the glass. A light halo formed around them, hazy and white against the darkness of the evening sky, where only the flimsy silhouettes of the street lamps across the way could be seen amidst the gloom. You watched Dio’s through the reflection as he leaned into your neck with a knowing smirk. You could see a glimmer of gold shining vividly in his eyes.
He chuckled coolly before whispering in your ear, “then perhaps we should find a way to warm you up.” With such a brazen insinuation lingering, you felt as though you could’ve nearly fainted, it was too much, you were putty in his hands, that much was undeniable, and he absolutely knew it. He draped his arms over your shoulders, pulling your flush against him as he leaned down to kiss the softest spot on your neck with all the gentleness of a lamb. His lips were warm and plush against your supple flesh which only grew hotter with each second of sustained contact. He enjoyed the way your entire body grew tense against his touches. He dotted several more playful kisses down your neck before traveling back up to your ear. “What would you like for dinner?” You were too stunned to speak, he was toying with you, and oh how he reveled in that look on your face. “Anything you’d like, I’ll make it for you.”
“O-okay” you breathed, trying to regain composure, eventually stammering out the first thing that came into your head, “French toast?”
He shot you a perplexed glance, it was somewhat of an odd request. “That isn’t a suitable dinner, but if that’s really what you want…”
“It could be! I used to eat breakfast for dinner all the time in college.”
He shrugged and made his way into the kitchen. “Then your wish is my command.” You smiled and watched as he began preparing things in the kitchen; admiring his skillful hands as he cracked several eggs into a pan and sliced the remainder of the bread you had leftover. Everything about him seemed to contain a haunting sensuality that somehow did not feel out of place amongst his divine, artistic features; always poised and purposeful, if not a tad restrained by his own elegance. His actions were neither superfluous nor accidental. Everything was deliberate; calculated and erudite. In a way, you admired that about him. It took a particular sort of man to represent such a fine Neoclassical sort of beauty. And yet, in spite of his formidable qualities, there was an underlying softness that lingered just on the periphery of his hardened heart.
You stood behind him, allowing your hands to caress his shoulders with deliberate tenderness. “Dio, where did you learn to cook like this?”
He paused briefly before answering you. “After my mother died, if I wanted to eat I had to prepare it for myself or else scrounge up enough money for a meal.” His eyes never looked up from his task, it was strangely easy for him to admit these things to you, and that made him feel rather perturbed. “You learn quickly when you don’t have any other choice.”
Before he could say anything else you wrapped your arms tenderly around his waist. “I’m so sorry you had to experience that.” His body tensed against yours, but you only nestled closer “I don’t think I properly expressed before, how sorry I am that you had to go through that, it must’ve been hard.”
He gritted his teeth to keep from crying, he’d already cried once in front of you and that was enough for a lifetime. He had no intention of displaying such weakness ever again, not even to you. “I do not need your pity.”
“It isn’t pity, Dio.” You leaned over to look at his face, his eyebrows furrowed tightly across his forehead. You lightly passed your hand over his cheek in an attempt to ease the strained expression, but it only did so much. “You didn’t deserve what happened to you, it wasn’t fair, and I just want you to know that it’s okay that it still hurts.”
He swallowed his emotions and pulled you into him for a proper kiss. He did not have the words to express the weight that your affirmation carried for him, but he hoped that this action would suffice. Perhaps not as eloquent as words would have been, but it captured his feelings well enough.
He made quick work of preparing the meal, serving it to you with only the slightest bit of sarcasm. You easily brushed it off, glad to see him in a pleasant enough mood. You enjoyed the casual affections that carried throughout dinner as the two of you hastily ate in anticipation of getting to be more properly affectionate.
After the dishes were washed and the kitchen cleaned he spun his arm around your waist in a grand romantic gesture and led you towards the bedroom he now fully intended to share with you. You pulled away from him and quickly retrieved the book from where it had been left on the coffee table before rejoining him at the threshold of your bedroom door.
Once the door shut you became overwhelmed with a strange feeling, like a knot had formed in the middle of your stomach. A mix of anxiety and anticipation that you hadn’t felt in years. He snaked his arm back around your waist and pulled you onto the bed in a heated kiss.
He caged you firmly beneath him, feeling his weight on top of you as he pressed hot, messy kisses along your face on his way to whisper in your ear. “Now tell me, darling, what liberties do the new parameters of our relationship afford me?” His teeth lightly nipped at the outside of your ear, causing you to squirm.
“I-I don’t know…” You mumbled, feeling more awkward than you would’ve hoped.
“Hmm, well that won’t do, you ought to know these things.”
“I… kiss me!” Your words came out in a breathless shout as your fingers found their way into his hair; feeling the soft golden strands fall between your fingers.
“As you wish.” Though his lips were plush against yours the kiss was far more forceful this time. His movements were direct, causing you to part your lips for him. An action he immediately rewarded by swirling his tongue against yours. Your entire body felt tingly; you couldn’t help the breathy gasp that escaped your mouth. He pulled back to admire you fully as you floated between needy and embarrassed. “So noisy.” He scolded with a sly smirk as he ran his fingers through your now messy hair.
He hooked his arm around you and pulled you into a seated position. He leaned with his back against the headboard with one arm draped around you, pressing your head against his chest. You found this to be a welcome reprieve as you attempted to relax the buzzing in your head.
“Would you like me to read some more tonight?” You held up the book which had been discarded in Dio’s haste to explore you.
“Not tonight.”
“Oh.” Your shoulders sank and your face became covered by a rather glum expression.
“Don’t make that face.” He ordered with a frown. “Would you change your attitude if I told you that I really am enjoying the story?”
“Really? I’m so glad!” You shot up in excitement, pulling yourself closer to him in the process.
“Yes, it is somewhat childish, but well written nonetheless. And it probably helps that it’s being read by an adorable girl. My adorable girl.” He emphasized his possessiveness coolly. You were his, and he had no intention of being shy about the matter. The declaration sent a flutter through your chest, leaving you feeling lightheaded in his arms. In your excitement, you nearly forgot about the precarious position of his hands; one resting on your shoulder, inching nearer to your breast, and the other resting gently on your thigh. You shifted awkwardly beside him. He noticed the slight discomfort on your face and moved his arm to a less suggestive position. With the knowledge that you now belonged to him, he had no problem exercising patience in his pursuit of your body. Besides, it would be far less fun if you gave in so soon. Teasing you, building the tension within you, watching you; the enigmatic woman who had lured his heart so tenderly, reflexively fluster at his touches; all of this was part of the great enjoyment he got out of you.
He lulled you in his arms. Once again admiring how your body seemed to fit so perfectly beside his. Having you like this, his earlier apprehension all but melted away. He couldn’t believe he’d ever considered leaving you.
A comfortable silence formed between the two of you as you savored the pleasant security brought by the closeness you shared. Several minutes you remained like that, wordlessly, until Dio spoke.
“So, the future…?” He toyed with the ends of your hair, his voice sounding more distant than you would have preferred.
“Yeah…” you choked on the words; hardly able to get them out of your throat.
“Then what is it like?”
“It’s… that’s a more complicated question than I’m prepared to answer. I mean, obviously, I was unhappy there so I might not be the best person to paint you an honest picture.”
“Well, you are also the only person who could, so try. After all, there must be some things you miss.”
“Of course there are things that I miss, my family, my friends, all my clothes, the internet, oh, the food, and I guess the convenience of everything. If I had to sum up the future in the most concise way I could, it would be ‘convenient’. I suppose it would be different had I not grown up with all those things, but it has been a hard adjustment. But enough time has elapsed that I’ve made myself comfortable here.”
“I see, so you wouldn’t want to go back?” There was a hint of melancholy in the way he spoke.
“It’s not like I have the option.” You said subtly rolling your eyes, feeling tired in his arms. “But I am content here.”
“Here?”
“Yes, here, relatively, in this time. And here, specifically, with you.”
He responded with a kiss to the top of your head. He couldn’t believe how wonderful it felt to hear you say that.
You turned to him suddenly; a terribly serious expression on your face. “Dio.” You placed one hand on his shoulder and touched the other to his face. “If I could take you away from all of this; take you somewhere that you could start over; where you’d never have to worry, back to my time, or any other time you’d like, I would do it.”
He placed another adoring kiss on the top of your head. You could feel him give a pleased hum into your hair as he began trailing kisses down the side of your face. “You’ve always been a woman of lofty aspiration, I commend you on that.”
“Are you mocking me?”
“Not at all. It’s important to set goals that challenge one’s self. How boring it would be if we only went after things that are easily obtained. All the best things in life are challenges. I have always thought so. And I can tell that you believe the same. That’s why you intrigue me so. How someone can think so similarly to me, yet somehow so entirely differently? You are mystifyingly alluring. Magnetic.”
“Oh, am I a challenge?”
“You, my dear, are a paradox. In a way, you come very easily to me. I feel as though I have known you my whole life. And then I look at you in another light and I realize I know absolutely nothing. You are like a puzzle I can’t quite figure out.”
“Maybe that’s because there’s a few missing pieces.” You replied with an amused giggle, lazily intertwining your fingers with his.
He brushed his lips delicately against your cheek. You leaned into him, your eyes clamped shut. “Tired?” He asked as he ran his hands over the side of your body.
“Yes, I think it’s time for bed.”
“Excellent.” He agreed readily, pulling back the blanket and gesturing for you to lay beside him. “You would probably be more comfortable in a bed.” He flashed you a devilish smile before lightly tracing your leg with the tips of his fingers. “And I’d be more comfortable with you in bed, our bed.” His voice fell to a meeker timbre. The sincerity in his tone and the gentleness that formed in his eyes caused your heart to skip a beat.
Once again you felt very embarrassed, but why should you be? You had made your feelings clear to him, it seemed only natural, and he looked so beautiful sprawled across your bed. The thought of being wrapped safely in his arms all night was too tempting to resist. Besides, the bed did seem a far more comfortable option than the couch you’d relegated yourself to for so long.
“O-okay,” you stuttered “but I have to get undressed first.” You felt very shy as you brought this to his attention. Hesitantly you combed through your wardrobe and took out a thin nightgown that seemed appropriate
“Well, go ahead.” His voice was dripping with anticipation and his gaze was just as unwavering as you remembered. He wondered if he could undress you with his eyes alone.
His eyes alone caused your entire body to feel hot and your face to turn bright red. When you undid the top few buttons on your shirt you could hear his breath hitch. “Please, don’t look” you whined, covering your face, “it’s too embarrassing with you watching!”
“Oh, alright” he sighed, shutting his eyes and covering them with his hands.
“And no peeking, promise?” You pouted, feeling your nerves ease a tiny bit.
“Fine, I promise.” Yes, it was indeed more fun this way.
You undressed quickly and looked at your body in the mirror. You hadn’t felt self conscious about your body in ages, and since living here you’d paid it even less mind. You looked over at Dio lying on your bed; eyes still covered. He was so beautiful, like something that belonged in a museum or exhibited on the walls at the Paris Salon, compared to him you couldn’t help but feel a little plain. You stared at the outline of your body, thinking it unbecoming. You pressed your breasts together futilely, wondering if you could ever compete with Dio’s seductive charms. You wondered if you would be enough to hold his interest. With a huff you slipped the garment over your head, the material hung loosely above your knees. You took a deep breath and climbed into bed.
“May I open my eyes now?” He questioned playfully after feeling you beside him once again.
“Yes.” You managed to squeak out, still feeling a bit exposed as you lay there.
He made a show of looking at you, just so you knew he was looking at you. Without a word he pulled you in for another kiss; not quite as sensual as the one you’d shared before, but enough to make you feel hot to the touch. “You need not be so restive.” He whispered into your ear, eliciting exactly the reaction he was hoping for, feeling your back arch against him, but he went no further than that. He only laid his arm over you and, after kissing the back of your neck, wished you a good night.
You felt content in his protective arms; albeit ever conscious of his breath against you as you drifted to sleep.
Dio enjoyed this comfort even more than you. He thought about how different life was now. Everything he’d been concerned about before now seemed less important. He was having a hard time remembering why he was so troubled over the Joestars in the first place. If things could feel this pleasant, he didn’t see a need to return, perhaps it didn’t matter and just being here with you was good enough.
Sleep finally fell upon him. A discomforting scowl etched its way across his face as that familiar feeling flooded his chest. His brows furrowed in discontentment and his breathing became irregular and shallow. Those horrible, gnawing feelings of regret, shame, guilt, and fear began to overwhelm him. The murky feelings knotted his stomach and caught in his chest. What if he could never be enough, enough for himself, enough for you? What if he would always be that diminutive, helpless child? What if he was useless? His father’s leering face broke through the swirling torrents of his mind. It ridiculed him. Useless. Weak.
He breathed sharply, mindlessly tightening his arms around our waist to pull you in closer. A sigh escaped your lips, but you did not wake. Sleepily, your body leaned pliantly into his. The feeling of having you close to him filled his body with a soft, warm light, enough to quell the darkness and put him at ease. The tension faded, leaving him gentle and serene as he clung to you, as though you were the only thing to anchor him to a reality not governed by that which haunted him.
Notes:
My offer to you, my dear readers: You receive: this sickeningly sweet chapter. I receive: a bit more of your patience in waiting for the eventual smut. I promise it is not too far away! Remember, this is the Victorian Era, even Dio's sluttiness is somewhat constrained by propriety (that just means he isn't the mega slut he is in part three, but probably still a slut by Victorian Standards). Let me have my slow burn, even if it's not really a slow burn. I've actually been doing so much research on the Victorian Era so I can keep this story mostly accurate, especially when it comes to some of the later storylines.
I've said before that I have over 30 chapters already written, so I am steadily working on editing them. I hope to get the next one out soon because I am really excited about it. Until then, please enjoy Dio being soft.
As always, thank you all so much for reading.
Chapter 9: Blue Sunday
Notes:
I love thrifting, you never know what kind of neat thing you're going to find. A couple of months ago I found this really nifty pair of gingham jeans that my mom says seem to be from the mid-1980s, it's really just too much fun. Of course I couldn't help but amass a large collection of stuffed animals that I have determined need me to adore them, much to the dismay of everyone else in my house. Some people are apprehensive about thrifting because they're worried something bad might've happened to the previous owner, but I personally believe my vibes are good enough to quell anything negative. But I am incredibly delusional.
Anyway, CW: for discussion of abuse, domestic violence, death, and maybe some light religious undertones. Nothing out of the ordinary for Dio.
(See the end of the chapter for more notes.)
Chapter Text
You stirred in Dio’s arms after what had been the best night of sleep you’d gotten in weeks. The morning had served to quell some of the anxieties of the night before and you were feeling rather cozy in the way he held you. You sighed happily and leaned your body closer to his to feel the warmth that radiated off of him. In an instant, his arms tightened around you and he began peppering feathery kisses down the back of your neck with an unrestrained zeal. Your body rolled against his with a satisfied gasp. He took a moment to appreciate your reaction before allowing his hands to wander. Insisting hands travelled down your waist, feeling every curve of your body. His touch felt as gentle as gossamer threads but sultry enough to coax a needy, undignified whine out of you.
Then his touches grew hungrier, kissing your lips with a roughness that threatened to be bruising as he locked you in his grasp. He felt the warmth of your mouth as your lips parted, breaking this kiss for only a second to allow you the opportunity to catch your breath before he pulled you in again. Drowning all of your senses until only thoughts of him remained. He allowed his tongue to explore your mouth, the sudden sensation eliciting a quiet moan from you. It had been dreadfully long since you’d had someone to kiss you like that.
Dio’s lips returned to your neck, pressing long, deep kisses into the tender flesh. Your body was pliant to his touches; you felt more than willing to let him explore you further in the hopes it would allay your desires for him. He pulled the collar of your nightgown down just enough to reveal your collarbone, his kiss leaving a small red mark behind as a memento. He pulled back and admired his work. Satisfaction sparkled in his catlike eyes. His hand trailed down your body again, just grazing over your breast in the process. The contact had been so unremarkable and innocuous, yet it elicited an airy gasp from you. “My, my, aren’t we eager this morning.”
“Dio…” You whined, your legs were clamped shut in desperation and your entire body felt tense against his. He loved seeing you so worked up for him. It was tempting to continue, but after one final kiss, he got up and left the room, leaving you stranded and breathless on the bed.
By then the rain had dwindled, however, a fine mist of fog still hung about the streets like faint, eerie whispers. The entire city was cloaked in a morose kind of ghostly quiet.
You joined Dio at the table for breakfast where he sat reading another one of your books, nearly every day he seemed to be onto a different one. He seemed to have a mind to read every book that you owned. He looked up at you as you walked into the room, a smug expression on his face. “How lovely of you to finally join me. I was beginning to think you were going to stay in that room all day. I wonder what you could’ve been doing?”
“I-you… you left without saying a word!”
“Oh, were you hoping for more?”
“I was hoping that you still wanted to go into town with me.”
He smiled sweetly and closed his book. “I would love to.” He took your hand in his and kissed it like a proper gentleman, as though he hadn’t had his tongue down your throat mere moments ago. “My lovely lady deserves a proper escort.”
You bent down to give him a tiny peck on his cheek and hurried to get ready. You needed an outfit that was suitable for going out, especially since you were being accompanied by a man. You eventually settled on a rather proper dress you hadn’t worn in quite a long while, it was a bit dated but had a lovely vintage charm. Once you had it on, you wondered why you didn’t wear it very often; it was rather pretty and fit you quite well, especially with the addition of a flouncy petticoat. “Alright, I'm ready!” You beamed as you twirled into the kitchen.
“Where did you get that dress?” His tone was so harsh, you thought he was perhaps mocking you. It was his first time seeing you so dressed up.
“Oh, you don’t like it? I guess it is rather old but—” he interrupted you before you could finish
“That is not what I asked you, I asked you where you got it.” He gently held his hands to your shoulders. His eyes were almost… desperate.
“I-I don’t remember, I bought it at a second-hand store when I first got here. It was the only thing I found that fit me.” Your voice came out in fragmented, shaky mumbles that couldn't precisely express any proper sentiment in full. You felt a jolt of fear run through you. He looked quite intimidating like from where you stood.
“Take it off.” He demanded, his tone so deathly serious that it caused a shudder to run through your body.
“What—?”
He looked into your eyes and could see the worry on your soft face. That expression sent a pang of regret through him. He was letting his temper get the best of him again. With an exasperated sigh, he let his arms fall around you in a hesitant embrace while he attempted to collect himself. “Please, I need to see something.” You could feel his hands shaking as he held you.
“O-okay.” You began to undo some of the buttons, but your hands were failing you. “C-can you help?”
Silently he undid the buttons until the dress was lying slack down your arms. You pulled it over your head and handed it to him, feeling rather bare in nothing but your camisole and petticoat, but he wasn't even looking at you. He had sat back on one of your kitchen chairs and was studying the garment closely. His suspicions had been correct, on the inside just below the collar, delicately embroidered in golden floss was his mother’s name.
He couldn’t begin to describe the emotion he felt, his heart floated somewhere between both anger and sadness, but at the same time he also felt awash with a strange sense of relief. He clutched the fabric tightly, inadvertently wringing it in his hands. He was left trapped in a tumultuous frenzy of emotions.
“Dio, is everything alright?” You approached him and gingerly placed your hand on his shoulder. He hadn’t even been aware of you until the moment you touched him.
“This dress…” he began, his voice quivered with an airy meekness. He could feel the beads of tears that had formed in his eyes; he shut them roughly in an attempt to cast the tears away. “It belonged to my mother.” He traced his finger over the stitches, locked in some faraway memory. “My father made me sell it for money to buy liquor and I…It was the last scrap I had of her and it was lost to me.”
“Dio, I’m so sorry, I didn’t know!” You continued rubbing his shoulder to soothe him but hesitated before touching him any further.
“It isn’t your fault, I was too harsh with you. You couldn’t have known.” The tension faded from his body and the unkempt melange of emotion seemed to ease. Holding the dress, he felt nothing but relief. He never thought he would ever get to hold anything that belonged to her ever again. What were the odds that after so many years it somehow made its way to you? “My anger is unbecoming.”
You brushed the scattered strands of his hair away and kissed his forehead. “It’s okay. Sometimes anger can mask emotions that are harder to face, but I know you’re trying and that's enough for me.”
He pulled you closer to him, needing to feel you in his arms. He brushed his lips against yours in the singularly most tender kiss he’d given you.
Dio had never concerned himself with the idea of fate, he thought it was just an excuse for people to avoid responsibility, but after such a coincidence it was hard not to believe; despite your insistence otherwise. He felt that there must’ve been something that had bound you to him.
He motioned to hand the dress back to you. “No, I think it belongs to you, it’s obviously very special.”
He thought for a moment, but insisted, “I think you should keep it. I think she would want you to wear it.”
“Are you sure?”
“It is something very special to me, but you are special to me also.” He stood up so that he could properly embrace you. He thought, if his mother were alive, she would be happy he had found someone to treat him with such kindness and patience. If there was anyone else who deserved to wear her dress, it was you. He thought this must be what it feels like to be loved, it felt so safe.
“Then I will.” You took the dress from him and draped it over your arm with care. “But not today, we’ll save it for something special.”
You returned to your bedroom to change. The dress was safely hung, now given a more prominent place in your armoire. You touched your fingertips to the fabric. How strange it all was. You remembered the day you picked out that dress; it was in a small pawn shop just outside of Manchester. You’d taken an outing there during your first spring here. You had hardly any proper dresses and lacked the sewing skills to create one from scratch. You found it in the back of the shop; it was a bit dingy and needed mending, but you thought it was beautiful. Now it was even more special. Briefly, you wondered what kind of trip it had made to get to you.
You changed into a black dress that hung off your shoulders, which you accentuated with a pair of sophisticated black gloves, perhaps a bit too formal for a simple trip to town, but nonetheless quite attractive.
“Dio… can you tie this for me?” You asked as you wandered back into the kitchen in your half-laced dress.
He obliged, lacing the rest and tying it into a secure bow. He then placed a tender kiss on the nape of your neck. “You look lovely.” You felt the heat rush to your face as his hands gently grazed over your shoulders.
Dio helped you into your coat and took your hand to lead you outside. It had finally begun to feel like winter outside, and the chilly sea air filled your lungs. Instinctively, Dio pulled you closer, whether the intent was to keep you warm or just to make sure every passerby knew that you were his wasn’t clear, but the feeling was delightful.
He was the picture of a perfect gentleman everywhere you went, casually making small talk in every shop, always eager to carry your things for you, offering you his arm when his hands became too full to hold yours. Inevitably, whenever you stopped, he would steal a kiss, paying no mind to who saw the display. After all, why should he be shy about his affection? How others felt about it was of no concern to him.
With all your shopping done, and in record time, Dio began to lead you toward home. Much to his annoyance you had stopped and were peering eagerly into the window of a tiny store. “Would you like to stop at the bookshop?” Your eyes lit up, almost pleading with him to agree.
“Was that on your list for this outing?”
“No, but we’ve already finished everything we have to do, and I always make a point of stopping in. It’s fun!”
“Very well, if you would like.”
“Really?” Your face resembled an excited child as you pulled him into the little store with a strength he hadn’t expected from you. “This is one of my favorite places, I’m so excited to show it to you!”
The store was somehow even tinier on the inside than it was on the outside. He had to duck in some places where there were particularly low shelves. Every corner was packed with books, filed in a fashion that could only be considered organized chaos. But your disposition was so endearing as you flitted through various aisles, that he was enjoying himself in spite of the various impedances. In fact, the afternoon passed by rather blissfully. You rattled off several titles he absolutely had to read, some of which he already had. Eagerly telling him about some fabulous things you knew were being released in the coming few years. What an odd thing you were; like a kind of silly fortune teller.
“Oh, and A Picture of Dorian Gray comes out in 1891; it’s absolutely marvelous! It’s about this guy, Dorian Gray, who’s so obsessed with eternally preserving his youth and beauty that he wishes his portrait would age instead of him. So over the course of the story, all the vicious, debaucherous things he does are reflected in his portrait, rather than in himself. It’s got everything you could possibly want, scandal, sex, murder, hedonism. All set in the backdrop of Victorian London, it’s brilliant. I think you would simply adore it! I got to see the painting they used in the movie during my senior trip to Chicago, it was so creepy.”
“Darling, don’t you think you should keep your voice down when discussing a sensitive subject?” You covered your hand to your mouth in embarrassment; only realizing that you had been babbling like that the entire time. “We should head home now, should we not?” Before you could answer he was already ushering you out of the store. “You may tell me more as we walk.” He leaned down and placed a soft kiss on the top of your head. Suddenly, all the thoughts that had been swirling in your head eased.
He led you down the street, just as dusk was settling in. You held very tightly to his arm to keep pace with his quick strides. “Now, weren’t you going to tell me something about some clandestine trip to Chicago?”
“It was not ‘clandestine’. It was a school-sanctioned trip, exclusively for educational purposes! Museums, galleries, architecture. Everything was upright and above board. Nothing salacious or scandalous.”
“Oh, and here I was hoping for a bit of scandal.”
“Nothing of the kind, though some friends and I did catch the train to this town outside the city to see where Ernest Hemingway grew up and we got the best ice cream at this little place that had been there for like a century.” You observed his slightly perplexed expression. “Oh, that’s right. It’s a shame you’ll have to wait until the mid-1920s to read Hemingway. I think you would really like his writing. If I had known that I’d become entangled with such an avid reader, I would’ve brought you more books from the future.”
“How cruel of you indeed, to not have the foresight.”
“I suppose, but you know I wasn’t planning- oh, wow! Look at how pretty the decorations are! I forgot that it’s almost Christmas!” In the darkness of the evening, you could see several windows aglow with candles and fir trees. You recalled how you hadn’t decorated in the years you’d been living here. It would be nice to have someone to celebrate with. “Do you think we should get a Christmas tree?”
“If that would make you happy, I don't see why not.”
“Really?! Okay, then we have to! We’ll have a tree and holly, and I’ll bake you more Christmas cookies than you can eat!”
“Be careful, I will hold you to it.” He declared in his most mischievously seductive tone. You ran your thumb along his arm, as if in a silent affirmation. It was such a meager gesture, but Dio found himself holding onto it. He enjoyed those tender, affectionate touches even more than the heated ones that he was now allowed.
Even going through the everyday rituals of sorting groceries and preparing dinner seemed wholly rewarding when the day concluded with you beside him on the couch with your head resting on his shoulder. Dio found it odd that he craved the kind of pleasant, casual intimacy that he had with you. He had never viewed intimacy as anything other than sex. Even then, sex was only a means to attain the great pleasure beholden by the flesh. Yet somehow, you merely leaning against him was more gratifying than any of his previous sexual conquests. That wasn’t to say he didn't crave sex with you, he certainly did, and when the time was right he fully intended to enjoy you as wholly as he had enjoyed his previous partners, no, even more so. You were different, he had won you, he had earned you, and you were his. You were his prize for walking away from the Joestars and he would do whatever he could to keep you at his side.
You leaned your head back further to look into his eyes. He softly caressed your cheek; still lost in hazy thoughts of you. “Dio, tell me about your mom.”
That snapped him back to reality in an instant; the gentleness on his face disappeared and a scornful glare took its place. He attempted to conceal his anger at the subject being brought up again, but he knew that if he intended to keep you he would have to indulge your curiosity eventually. “There isn’t much to tell, she died when I was very young.”
You turned to him, cupping his cheek in your hand with the tenderness a dove. “Dio… after what happened this morning, you can’t tell me there’s nothing there.” He brought that hand you’d rested on his cheek to his lips and kissed it softly. “It’s okay, you can tell me anything. Remember, I’m always on your side.” You turned to him and held his hands in yours; it looked quite silly, your small hand trying to cover his much larger ones. “Please, I want to know you, I want to know you better than anyone else has.”
He leaned his head back and stared at the ceiling, in the hopes that the correct words would find him. He pushed his bangs back and rested his hand on his forehead. “My thoughts about my mother are… complicated.”
You pressed a kiss on his cheek to thank him for the openness. “She was a kind and gentle person and...and I think I loved her more than I’ve ever loved another person. Perhaps with greater context, it was more reverence than love, but—” he gritted his teeth and a terrible scowl etched its way across his face. Inadvertently he traced his thumb across the back of your hand in a search for security. “But why wouldn’t she leave him? Why would she let my father treat her so horribly? He disparaged her, he beat her, and…and me. And she… she just took it. Every day I had to watch her fade. When she died she wasn’t even a person, she was a sallow husk and all I could be was a scared, pathetic child. Maybe I still am.”
“No, Dio, you were so strong for surviving. After everything you endured, you could never be weak.” You held your arms around him and kissed the line of his jaw. He kept his head in place and refused to look at you. His eyes remained steadfastly pointed at the ceiling. “And maybe… I never knew your mother so I can’t say for certain, but it’s so hard to leave, sometimes impossible. The fear, the guilt, the embarrassment… it’s so confusing, and some don’t have any other options. Things are never bad right from the start, so when they do get bad, there’s the lingering memory of when it was once good. Maybe the hope that it can be good again. Maybe the guilt that if you leave then he’ll just find someone else to abuse, so you stay like a damned martyr.”
Dio ran his hand along your arm in an attempt to comfort you. You liked feeling him there, but in spite of your efforts, heavy tears formed in your eyes. “I stayed for far too long, it was disgraceful. I felt so stupid.”
“You could never be stupid.” He kissed the top of your head, hesitant in his movements.
You leaned your head back against his chest. He wrapped his arm around your waist, his hand coming to rest on your stomach. “Thank you.” You whispered, unable to find a better response.
“I will not be my father.” You felt his hold on you tighten ever so slightly. You placed your hand atop his and laced your fingers between his. You shut your eyes and exhaled softly. You felt safe in his arms. Feeling at ease, you let silence fall between you.
“It was hard,” he said finally, still not making an attempt to look at you, “losing her.”
“I know, and I’m so sorry you had to experience that. It wasn’t okay, you were just a baby, that was so much more than a baby should have to endure and I never want you to hurt like that again.”
He hummed slightly and leaned over briefly to kiss the top of your head in gratitude. “My only solace was knowing that death put an end to her suffering. It was a cruel sort of comfort. How could that miserable existence be called a life?” He paused briefly, deep in thought, then looked at you directly for the first time since the conversation had started. “What do you think it means to live?”
You turned this thought over in your mind for a moment but came up empty. “I suppose the meaning would vary from person to person. One person’s reason for living would vary from another. I don’t think it’s broadly definable.”
“That may be the case, but what does it mean to you?”
You contemplated this even further, but still, you could not come up with anything meaningful. “I-I don’t know.” You stuttered after seeing the frown on his face, obviously unimpressed with your response. “I-I think that a person’s reason for living probably changes throughout their life, depending on what they’re going through. When I was back in my time, my entire reason for living was to get away from the cage of my own failures and then I somehow wound up here. Then, after I got here I had nothing, my entire purpose was to survive, so I did what I had to do and now my life is comfortable.”
“Hmm, then what do you think your great purpose is now?”
“I-I don’t know, maybe this?” You leaned up and kissed the corner of his mouth. You could feel his lips curl into a slight smile beneath your lips.
“Is that your grand purpose in life, to fix me?” His words came out with a smooth chuckle, but you could sense there was a seriousness to them.
“I don’t know about all that, but I think there was a reason we were drawn to one another.”
“Whatever the reason, I am glad for it.” He kissed your hand again before tilting your chin up to kiss you properly.
“My, I didn’t realize you were such a romantic.”
“I can be a great many things.” His eyes glimmered with his characteristic bravado as he let his hand fall to the top of your thigh.
“Then tell me, if you’re feeling particularly romantic, what do you think it means? What is your reason for living?”
“My mother taught me that one should live in a way that assures that they’ll go to heaven. I always rejected that in favor of the conquest of my own desires; money, power, sex. Surely, the meaning of life must be found in that which one can attain on earth. What good would heaven be if you needed to live a miserable life of foregoing one's own wants just to get there? But, now I’m not so sure.”
“I think… I think that life is just a series of little moments that play out every day. Some of those moments are good and some are bad. I think heaven can be found in those moments that mean the most to you. I don’t know if there’s some wonderful place where the saved go when they die. I’d like to hope there’s more, but I don’t know. But I do know that we create our own heaven in the little moments that bring us joy; even the mundane things. Reading a good book, sharing dinner with a loved one, the way the rays of sunshine break through the clouds after a storm, a really good cup of coffee, or tea if you prefer, anything. All of these little moments of comfort can be heaven.”
He looked at you intently, almost enamored, before his face faded into a little smile as he ruffled your hair. “You really are an enigmatic woman.”
“I am a sleepy woman.” You whined, laying your head on his lap.
“Are you vying for me to carry you to bed again?”
“Well, this time it would be romantic.” You laughed, turning over on your back to look at him.
He rolled his eyes and lifted you into his arms. You wrapped your arms around his neck and leaned in to kiss him. In immediate reciprocation, the kiss turned messier than you would’ve imagined. “Do not get used to this.” He chided before kissing you again. The warmth of his lips against ours was almost overwhelming.
“Oh, and here I thought you were going to romance me.”
“I certainly intend to.” He whispered into your ear before placing you on your bed. “You are absolutely beautiful.” You could feel the heat on your cheeks, you were left unable to find any words to respond.
As he lay beside you, feeling the soft rhythm of your breathing as you slept, he found himself thinking that though he did not know the reason you had been brought to him, he was certain that he would never let you go.
Notes:
I AM SO UNHINGED FOR THIS RAHHHHHHH!!!!!
This chapter is an early birthday present to myself; happy birthday me!
When I said that Dio was getting a happy ending in this universe I meant it in every conceivable way. The boy is going to heal!
Side note, when I wrote this, I had to explain the whole history of the dress to my boyfriend who hasn't read the manga. He said that after knowing that, it added a lot of necessary context to Dio's character. All of that to say that I am making my boyfriend fall in love with Dio too.
I like to think that Dio's obsession with heaven didn't start until after he rotted in the coffin for nigh on a century, so I wanted to show his beliefs a little different, more in line with the person he is in part 1. Since, before the mask, he wasn't striving or immortality or anything like that specifically, just wealth, power, influence, etc.
And no, reader will not stop babbling incoherently about things she's excited about. Cut her some slack, she hasn't had anyone to really talk with in like two years, she is a very excited cutie pie.
I had to give the town that I was born in a little shoutout with that Hemingway reference :)
Chapter 10: The Way It Is
Notes:
And now for something completely different!
Plot, what do you mean plot? Hey, let's check in on what the Joestars have been up to.
(See the end of the chapter for more notes.)
Chapter Text
December wore on, and with it came a swirl of cloudy, grey skies. The chilly winds blew off the waters and covered the world in a delicate frost. It served as a reminder of the impending holidays, leaving most eagerly anticipating the arrival of long-distance family and friends that were all too scarcely seen under regular circumstances. It seemed that everywhere, people had come alive with a joy many only seldom felt outside of the Christmas season. Things, however, were much different for the Joestars.
Jonathan had returned from his errand to London unscathed and with more than enough evidence to have Dio arrested for not only the attempted murder of George Joestar but also the past murder of his biological father, Dario Brando. Though ostensibly it had appeared that the man died of some untreated illness, likely a result of a hard life bound by alcoholism, the fortune teller, Wang Chan, insisted to the contrary. He had confessed inexhaustibly to selling Dio the poison. Not only the one which, as he learned, had been used on George Joestar in the last year, but the same kind in 1880 as well. According to him, he never cared to ask who the poison was intended for; if anything, not knowing was far more fun. “To think a child of only twelve could concoct such a malevolent scheme! Such vitriol, and from the mouth of a babe no less. He has the Devil’s luck; I’ll swear to it!” The man cackled these and many other similar interjections throughout the trip from London back to Liverpool. With the threat of his own arrest looming, he had no choice but to comply in the hopes of a lighter punishment. Especially after Speedwagon rounded up his lackeys as an additional method of persuasion.
The stage had been set; all that was left to do was wait for Dio to return home, but his return had not come. In fact, it had been weeks since Dio’s flight from the Joestar mansion. And though Jonathan waited with bated breath for any news of his brother, no news had come of him. In the meantime, the antidote for the poison had been administered to his father, and he began to recover, though even now some effects of the poison remained. But to the relief of Jonathan and his newfound friend, Speedwagon, George regained more and more strength with each passing day. However, the absence of Dio had been unequivocally felt by the entire household. A family had been torn asunder. Shame and guilt amounted as everyone looked for something to blame.
Anger and fear plagued Jonathan every night. He had saved his father’s life; by all accounts, he had won. But what was stopping Dio from coming back to finish what he’d started? Moreover, what if he never came back? How was it fair for him to go on without facing any consequences for his ignoble deeds? As long as Jonathan had known Dio, all he’d ever done was take and take. He was his one and only, his own world, everything beyond himself was of little concern. As far as Jonathan could see, to Dio, there was nothing else but Dio. And then there was his father. He had shown undying gratitude towards Jonathan for his bravery and dedication, but there was a residual melancholia whenever there was mention of Dio. Jonathan saw it in his eyes, he knew very well that his father loved Dio just as much as he loved him. It was a hard thing, to lose a son. Jonathan saw it, he saw it in his apprehension to involve the police. He saw it in the relief that glinted in his eyes when Dio did not return. He saw it when his father walked hopelessly through the halls with his eyes fixed on the ground. He saw it in his father’s reluctance to have Dio’s room cleared out and allocated for some other use. He saw it at graduation when Dio was not there to attend. What should have been a joyous time was cast in murky blackness.
It was a hard thing to lose a son. All of his best laid plans, all of his hopes for Dio, all of the years spent nurturing his intellect, it all had gone up in flames. Such a promising future ahead of him, the top of his class, destined for nothing but greatness, all to be shattered in pieces on the floor. That future was no more. What was done couldn’t be undone, but even after everything, he couldn’t change the way he loved his son. Certainly, in his mind, George felt that Dio’s wickedness must’ve been a result of his failings as a parent. Perhaps Dio hadn’t felt properly welcomed in his home, maybe he didn’t know that he was as much his son as though he’d been born to him by blood. Maybe he’d always felt like an outsider and acted in retaliation. Whatever the reason, George was mourning the loss of his son, and Jonathan could see it every day.
Jonathan couldn’t help but feel a pang of jealousy. Since Dio’s arrival seven years ago, he’d always felt dwarfed by his brother’s notable accomplishments and penchant for excellence. Jonathan was smart and dedicated, a success in his own way, but all his triumphs paled in comparison to his illustrious brother. With a heavy heart, he attended the perfunctory commencement ceremony, offering little insight to the inquiries of onlookers surrounding the absence of Dio, lest talk give way to a scandal, but naturally, without satisfactory information, people talk and rumors spread. It was enough to add insult to injury, Jonathan grieved his brother in ways his father could not. His mind darted between seething anger and a far-flung hope that things could somehow be different; that Dio could apologize with sincerity and return a changed man. It was all useless, wasn’t it? His anger was unproductive and his hopes were a waste of energy.
Speedwagon had become a regular lodger in the Joestar household. His presence provided a much needed reprieve from the otherwise gloomy atmosphere that had become the routine. George had welcomed him to stay for as long as he wanted. In a way, his place in the home helped to alleviate some of the emptiness left by Dio no longer being there, especially at meals when George inadvertently asked for three places to be set at the table instead of two. Speedwagon did his best to keep in good spirits, recounting tales of his many travels as a means to entertain his new friends. In the short time he had been acquainted with them, he had grown to care for the Joestar men more than he could tell. Growing up poor, he’d quickly come to learn of the staunch line that divided the haves and the have-nots. Ever reminded of the way the poor were scorned by the rich. The rich, who lived in their cold palaces of stone, surrounded by privileges the likes of him had never known. The sheer magnitude of these country manors would be incomprehensible to a family living in a crowded boarding house in the slums of London. The rich get richer, the poor get poorer. And the plight of the ignominious impoverished was of little concern to those who’d never known a world without the comforts money provides.
But not the Joestars. The Joestars were different. They were kings among men; they prided themselves on compassion and charity. Gentlemen through and through. Kindly and generous in all things they did. A generosity that went beyond any mere predilection of noblesse oblige. A generosity that was always genuine and at times to their own detriment. It was the same generosity that led George Joestar to take in an orphan from London. His devotion to Dio had far exceeded the repayment of a debt, he had loved him he had wanted nothing but the best for him. And yet Dio had repaid him so cruelly and then left. Speedwagon felt for George, felt for Jonathan. It’s a hard thing to do, to lose a son, to lose a brother. He felt devoted to them somehow. He was ready to lend them aid in any way they may need.
And so, on an otherwise average morning in the middle of December, Speedwagon noticed that a strange letter addressed to Jonathan had arrived in the post. ‘Baron Zeppeli, huh?’ He thought as he ran his thumb over the seal on the back. Something about it suggested importance.
Jonathan was sitting gloomily in the parlor when Speedwagon found him. The whole of the room was dark except for the remnants of a fire that had long been burning. The flames burned low with a deep smoldering crimson. “Jonathan, a letter just arrived for you.”
He looked up with a vague expression; almost as if he hadn’t properly perceived what was said. Mindlessly, he took the letter and tore the seal. He read over it once carelessly, but certain words began to jump off the page.
“Mother’s mask… the brain… blood… monsters?” He repeated, inadvertently out loud. He tossed the words over some, not quite sure if he should believe this stranger. “Speedwagon, what do you make of all this? This stranger, this Baron Zeppeli is asking me about the stone mask that once belonged to my mother. He seemed to be familiar with it, going on to write that it has the power to awaken superhuman powers within whomever may use it.”
Speedwagon looked over the note carefully, befuddled by what he read. “JoJo, I’ve never heard of such a thing! A mask that grants immortality for the price of one’s humanity; quite a devilish thing, no? But you said you’ve got it?”
“Yes, it belonged to my mother, I’d been studying its properties as part of my archeological research. I had postulated that it may be able to unlock some kind of innate power hidden in the brain, but I never thought it possible of something quite so evil.” Jonathan gestured Speedwagon down one of the corridors to his study. “I’ve kept it locked under my care.” Jonathan produced a small key from his pocket and shoved it into the lock. The drawer opened with a low click. It was empty.
“Er— might you have stored it somewhere else, JoJo?” Speedwagon asked, staring into the vacant drawer.
“No, it was always kept here for safekeeping, where could… Dio… but how could he…?”
“Ah, Dio the villain!” Exclaimed Speedwagon, hastily coursing over the contents of the letter once again. “Who knows what kind of devilry he’s been up to since his flight.”
“I know not what he’s up to nor how he could’ve come to learn the secret of the mask’s power, but one thing is for certain. If the mask truly is as dangerous as Baron Zeppeli claims it to be, it would be even more so in the hands of a man like Dio!” Jonathan slumped into his chair. How had he gotten so careless? He had grown blind to Dio’s wickedness. He allowed his father to be poisoned right under his nose and now he’d let the mask be stolen. “I do find it odd though, I’d never imagined Dio would just run away like that. I expected he’d return, too proud to admit he’d been bested, then fight like a cornered beast. This disappearance…it’s uncharacteristic, to say the least.”
“There seems to be a great treachery about.”
“I fear it too, I think it best that I respond to this letter. If nothing else, this Baron Zeppeli seems to have some personal knowledge of the mask. Perhaps he can be of assistance to us. Though I’m not sure what good it will do now that both it and Dio are missing.”
Jonathan wasted no time replying to the letter. He outlined the situation clearly, explaining how the mask came to disappear from his possession as well as several details of his research. He expressed great concern that the man who stole it would use it to enact great deeds of evil. With all the important information relayed, he asked the mysterious man for a meeting, offering him a stay in his home upon his arrival.
The letter was posted and by the end of the week, Baron Zeppeli arrived at the Joestar mansion.
With the arrival of the enigmatic man, the house was cast further into tumult.
He arrived unannounced on a rainy morning in mid-December. Clad in a white suit and harlequin patterned hat, he stood leaning against his cane with a blasé expression which was immediately contradicted by the urgency with which he entered the home the moment at which the door had been opened to him. Jonathan and Speedwagon hurried down the stairs upon hearing of a guest to the house.
“You must be Baron Zeppeli, I appreciate you coming all this way, and so promptly. I’m sure you are aware—”
“You are a foolish man, Signore Joestar! A very foolish man!” The strange man exclaimed, followed by several other mumblings in Italian. “To let the mask just slip away! Careless!”
“Hey, now, watch your tongue!” Speedwagon interjected, instinctively ready to defend his friend.
“It’s quite alright, Speedwagon. I do not fault his anger. It was an oversight to let the mask fall into the hands of such a man as Dio; I should’ve been more proactive in keeping it. It was careless of me indeed.”
Their guest composed himself by straightening his coat and adjusting his hat. “I apologize for my outburst. Forgive me, this subject is a sensitive one, and one close to my heart.”
“Baron Zeppeli, please, all can be forgiven if you tell us what you know about the mask’s true powers and how you’ve come to know it!”
“All that in due time, but first, you must tell me about the man who stole the mask.”
“My brother, Dio. He is…”
“He is absolutely evil! Lord Joestar took him in when he had nothing, and after years of devotion, he went and tried to murder him. If that isn’t a villain, then I don’t know what is.”
Jonathan sighed hopelessly. Speedwagon wasn’t wrong, but it came out rather harsh. It was difficult to admit these cruel realities after they had spent their youth together. “Evil may be an overstatement, but he does have a streak of cruelty in him…”
“If that is the case then I have been right to be worried. The evil of the mask cannot be trusted in even the purest of hands, but if it were to be used by someone predisposed to wickedness; there’s no telling what dangers may befall. At all costs, we must find a way to retrieve the mask before any harm can be done.” Not without a bit of dramatic flare, Baron Zeppeli took a seat in one of the high back chairs and rested his head against his hand as though in deep contemplation.
“I don’t understand, my father owned the mask for many years, and trouble never came of it.”
“The mask has a certain allure of its own. Even you, Signore Joestar, someone who seems to me an upright and earnest man, if not a bit naive, could not help from taking interest in it. Your research is proof enough of this. Imagine the pull the mask would have on a man like Dio. No, I think, if he is truly as wicked as you say, then eventually he will be drawn to use it. Whether on himself or another, I cannot say. I suppose it would depend on how much knowledge he already has of the mask.”
“I can’t imagine he would know any more than I do. Even if he scoured my notes, I don’t see how he could’ve learned anything that I hadn’t.”
“Unless he has already used it.”
At this, Jonathan froze. Could Dio have stumbled upon the true power of the mask through mere coincidence? Could he have used it, perhaps on someone else, learned of its power, then taken that power for himself? Could that be why he hadn’t returned home because he no longer had a need to? “Then tell me, Baron Zeppeli, what can we do? How can he be stopped?”
“You are in luck! In my travels, I happened upon a way of defeating zombies and vampires alike. Hamon!” He snapped his fingers and pointed directly at Jonathan. “And should you prove yourself worthy, I shall teach you all that I know.”
And so the training began. Jonathan was by all accounts naturally skilled in the ways of Hamon. A bit unrefined, but he had a tremendous aptitude for learning and picked up the technique quickly. The trio of men were determined to find Dio and make sure the mask could do no further harm to anyone.
Notes:
Me to me: you did it, you did it you son of a bitch, you wrote angst for George Joestar!
I hope I did justice to the complicated emotions all of the characters are facing. Save for Speedwagon who's just ready to throw hands with Dio. I really wanted to show how both Jonathan and Dio were envious of each other; Dio because of all the privileges that Jonathan was simply born into, and Jonathan because Dio always outshined him and made no attempt at hiding it.
Being that this is the 10th chapter and roughly two months since I've been posting this little story, allow me to get sentimental for a moment.
I truly want to thank all of you from the bottom of my heart, for all the love you’ve shown this story. It makes me so happy when I get to see other people enjoy my work. I never imagined so many of you would be interested in this story. I didn't even have an account here until I resolved to post this, I hadn't even really interacted with anyone else's stories before, so this was all new to me, but you've all been more than kind, I can't even express how grateful I am, every one of your sweet comments has me buzzing with glee. Truthfully, I was very apprehensive about posting this story. I knew that I was writing a very niche idea in a very large fandom and I didn't know if anyone would want to see such a villainous character like Dio have a shot at redemption, especially since it pretty much undoes the entire established canon. But you guys have all been so sweet, I feel a bit undeserving at times.
I know it's a bit cliche to say "oh, I was going through a rough time when I started this," but really, when I started writing this at the end of last year I was just coming out of what had been a series of trying years. I obviously won’t go into detail, but I was finally starting to feel like a person again and felt aglow with creativity, and thus this self-indulgent thing was born. It’d sound silly to say anywhere else but here, but I think analyzing Dio’s character on a different level than I had before really helped me see the world in a different, softer light.
So once again, thank you to anyone who has bothered to read, comment, or interact with this story in any way. I’ve said in a few notes and replies to comments that this story is already well over 30 chapters and not nearly at its end, so I hope you’ll strap in and stick around for the chaos that spills from my brain. Especially since it is now summer and we are just getting into the holiday chapters :P
I am hoping to get the next chapter out sooner rather than later since I'd love the Christmas chapter to be posted around Christmas in July, and also I'm sure you're all eager for more Dio time :)Oh, and before I go, just in case anyone ever wanted to ask me anything anonymously, I do have a tumblr I really don’t use it, I don’t post, I just like to look at pictures of cute animals and stuff, but I’ve linked it here and it’s also linked in my bio. I’m always down to chitchat, especially about Dio things hehe.
Cheers!
Chapter 11: Visions (If I Can't Have It All, Just A Taste Will Do)
Notes:
It's been a long time coming but...
CW: NSFW, sexual content, oral sex female receiving
:D
(See the end of the chapter for more notes.)
Chapter Text
The days passed by in pleasant tranquility as the winter wore on. Everywhere you looked seemed aglow with the light of holiday decorations that sparkled of red, green silver, and gold. There were candles in every window of every home that cast a warm, familiar upon the typically dull streets you'd come to accept as the backdrop of your home. Altogether, the world around you seemed a friendlier place than it ever had before as you began to find comfort in the times of leisure you’d previously resented. Your work days began to blur into one another, each seeming nearly identical in its sameness as your mind wandered about through twinkling daydreams in anticipation of the approaching holiday. Your work had always been the most important thing to you, for two years it had been the only thing to you. But as of late, you found yourself rushing home at the end of each day. Longing to see the soft golden light glimmering out from your windows, a gentle reminder of the company you basked in. Its warmth juxtaposed the coldness of the grey winter skies that made you long for the snowy New England winters you had long since abandoned.
Each day Dio greeted you at the door and immediately pulled you in for a rough but affectionate kiss before helping you out of your coat. You took comfort in these moments; memorizing every detail of the way his strong arms seized you and guided you into the house. The way he doted on you with dinners and welcomed words of praise and pleasant conversation enveloped in a comfort you had all but forgotten was possible to feel. And more often than not, his affections would continue into the evening. You became more accustomed to his touches, and he certainly loved touching you. Every chance he could get, he would put an arm around you, or if you were lying on the couch reading together, he would pull your legs over his lap. Even at meals, he would caress your hand with his, however, his favorite were the times when you slept in his arms, he loved watching you breathe slowly and rhythmically and feeling your warmth as he cradled your body against his. It was an intimacy far greater than anything he’d considered himself capable of expressing and he reveled in it.
On occasion, he would be more bold with his advances— this was one such occasion. After dinner had been completed, Dio moved to the couch for what you assumed would be a well-deserved rest, but when you sat beside him he subverted your expectations and pulled you roughly onto his lap. You had thought this position would have offered you an advantage, but you had been thoroughly mistaken. Even with your legs straddled over him, he was able to hold you firmly in place, keeping you still while he kissed you until you were breathlessly panting.
Desire took hold within him as he began kissing your neck again, it hadn’t taken him long to learn which spots made you weak. Long, deliberate kisses were pressed into the tender flesh with increasing urgency. His teeth grazed your skin, leaving a faint, pinkish mark before his lips clamped over the same spot with greater force. A sharp breath escaped from you, you could feel the corners of his mouth spread into a smirk against your skin but he kept his focus. His tongue brushed against the reddened skin, now tender from his efforts. He admired the mark for a moment before moving on to another equally supple spot.
Between your moans, you could feel him begin to unbutton your shirt. His skillful hands caused each button to give way in an instant until the garment hung open before him. A soft exhale passed his lips as he admired your body, an undeniable hunger in his eyes. The flimsy camisole you wore did little to hide the outline of your breasts. The way the lace trim accentuated the delicate curves and only served to make you look more enticing.
“May I?” He asked, his hand was mere inches from your breast as he looked upon you with eagerness.
You felt your shirt drop to the floor, and you were left feeling more exposed than ever as he dotted a myriad of kisses onto your shoulders while he waited for your permission.
As much as you tried to ignore the feeling, insecurity began to gnaw at you.
“Dio…” you began to stammer as you pushed yourself off his lap and stood before him, not without noticing the expression of annoyance he made as you slipped away from him. “I think… before we go any further, I mean… if you’re wanting, I just think you should know that I’m-I’m not… preserved.”
He cocked his head at you with a curious expression, it was all rather awkward and you were having trouble finding the proper words to express so delicate a sentiment. “What I’m trying to say is that I, in the past, and I mean the way past, and I… oh forget it, I’m not a virgin.” You nervously looked to him for some kind of response, but his face remained unchanged. The claws of anxiety dug further into you, leaving you with the worry that he would think you sullied, that he would deem you something unworthy of his affection, that he would no longer want you. “I hope that doesn’t change how you feel about me, I know in this time it’s more or less expected, but it’s less so in my time, so I just thought I should be honest with you… I mean, assuming you wanted… to… eventually… with me.”
He reached for your hand and kissed it, before leading you back onto his lap, this time with more tenderness. He rubbed his hand against your back soothingly. The gesture served its purpose and you felt your body relax against his touches. Satisfied that you were not going to leave his arms again, he pressed his finger to your lips and smirked at you in a way that sent a shiver down your spine. “Stop talking,” he said in a voice that was more stern than seductive.
“But—” you attempted, but all your words were cut off when he covered your lips with a kiss. It didn’t last very long, nor was it as passionate as the one he had indulged in before, but it gave you the reassurance you needed.
“You worry about far too many things. I would never think less of you over something so trivial. If you think that I would, then you have misjudged me greatly.” At that you breathed a sigh of relief, feeling confident that you could wholly be his without a smattering of guilt had he not known before he made the choice to be with you. “And besides,” his words broke you free from your thoughts in an instant, you felt him lean very close to your ear; so close that you could feel the shape of his lips as he spoke. The languid intonation of his voice caressed you like velvet, far more sensual than his previous tone, “once I’ve had my way with you, you won’t even be able to remember your former lovers.”
His words came out in a cool, sultry drawl as he pulled away to watch your reaction closely. You attempted to keep your cool but your body betrayed you, your face was red and your hips unintentionally rolled into his.
“Hmph, look at how badly you want me and I haven’t even touched you yet.” He shook his head in a gesture of mock shame and clicked his tongue in tandem.
It was true, he hadn’t even touched you, not in any meaningful way at any rate, and you could feel the desperation bubbling within you. It was a feeling you’d almost forgotten. Sex; it had been something you had nearly written off entirely. Not worth the trouble, not worth the risk. Not worth the trouble of having to hide your entire past from someone, never allowing them to know you in a way that you’d consider pivotal for a partner. Not worth risking your reputation over. Not worth any scandal marked by your impropriety that would invariably lead to you being scorned in a way akin to a 19th century Hester Prynne. Quite simply, it was not something worth pursuing. At least, that’s what you had told yourself for the last two years. You thought you’d buried those desires for good, but Dio needed only moments to bring them all back to life. You had indulged in various fantasies of him even before you felt it appropriate, but these thoughts had become far more frequent as of late.
He lifted you from his lap and turned you so you were sitting with your back against his chest. He held your chin between this thumb and forefinger to keep your head flush against him, while his other hand pressed firmly against your thigh. “So why don’t you tell me, mademoiselle,” he whispered, placing a kiss on the bare skin of your shoulder, “exactly where you’d like me to touch you.”
“Dio!” His name came out in a breathy whine. With your anxieties quelled you became increasingly aware of the need to indulge the physical aspect of your relationship that you had been denying yourself in the face of your trepidations.
“Or would you like me to guess?” He cast a knowing smirk as he lightly brushed his lips against your jaw. “Would you like me to touch you here?” He snaked his hand under your shirt, stopping just under your breast. “Dear, I can’t touch you until you tell me. ”
“Y-yes,” your voice was a barely audible sheepish squeak, but it was all the consent Dio needed.
His large hand cupped your breast and kneaded it with careful tenderness. You felt as though you would melt into his touches. Lyrically, several soft groans left your throat only to be punctuated by a sharp yelp when he pinched your nipple between his fingers. A dark chuckle vibrated against the back of your neck as he drank in all of your reactions. He rolled your nipple between his fingers, you could feel jolts of electricity run through your body in response. Your back arched against him, beckoning him to explore you further.
His other hand slowly traced over your thigh before coming to rest just at the top of your pants. “And how about here?”
“Please...” You whimpered, trying your best to keep yourself together, but with the ease at which he unbuttoned your pants, you knew it was a losing battle. He let his finger run along the hem of your panties but never dipped any further. He was waiting for you to ask. “Dio, please!”
“So polite, how can I refuse?” He shrugged, his arrogance taking hold. He pulled your pants down just to your knees, leaving your movements constrained. He cupped his hand over your sex, still covered by your panties and began tracing a line with his index finger, feeling delighted by the way the fabric dampened under his touch. Without warning he pressed his finger firmly onto your clit and began massaging it with firm, regular circles.
“Look at how desperate you were for me, what were you planning on doing if I hadn’t touched you?”
“I would have… ah! Dio, please, more!”
“Oh, more you say? Then tell me exactly what you would like me to do.” His tone implied a level of presumptuousness. The gall of him to look at you so coyly, as though he hadn’t the faintest idea what you wanted when you knew damn well knew precisely what to do. Dio took pleasure in dragging his inevitable capitulation to your desires, taking the time to enjoy all of your sweet little reactions. He was eager to find out what other reactions he could coax out of you. He had so frequently pictured having you like this, now he was excited to see how you compared to his thoughts.
Already, your breathing was ragged and you couldn’t think straight. Your response to him came out as a series of unbridled gasps, devoid of any comprehensible meaning.
“Use your words, dear.”
It took nearly all of your willpower to focus your mind enough to form the words you needed to. “Please.”
“Please what?”
“Touch me! Make me cum!”
You didn’t have to ask again. With no further hesitation, he pulled your panties down just enough to reveal your needy cunt. Roughly, he spread your legs apart in order to get a better look at you, he hissed at the carnal display. He absolutely adored seeing you so desperate for him.
Dio let his fingers graze over the tender skin, each touch was delicate and focused as he acquainted himself with the feeling of you. With two fingers, he spread your wetness over you with slow, measured strokes. You gasped at the sensation, you hadn’t imagined he would be so… gentle. Involuntarily, your hips leaned forward to meet his touches. “Feels good…” you whined, leaning your back onto his shoulder. He took a moment to kiss your forehead before continuing his pursuit.
He slipped one finger inside of you, your walls immediately clamped around it; it was a welcomed sensation. The sudden tightness caused an inadvertent groan to fall from his lips. He pulled you closer, the hand that had been at your breast firmly caged your stomach. He began to move inside of you, pressing against the warm, plushness of your cunt. He stretched you just enough to add a second of his large fingers. The sudden sensation had you exhaling in low soft moans betwixt sharp, desperate pleas for more. Fuck, you couldn’t be this close already.
He then pressed his thumb onto your clit, rubbing rhythmically as he curled his fingers inside of you. “Yes! Dio… more!” You could feel a slight hum reverberate in his throat; he was more than amused by your reactions. He quickened his pace, pressing deeper into you. Your whines of pleasure became more apparent as your hips jerked erratically in his lap. Stifling your desire to scream, you turned your head and buried your face in the crook of his neck. “I’m so close.” Your breath was hot against his skin as you whimpered; leaving behind a faint pink halo where your lips had been.
“Then cum, darling. It is not as though I am going to stop you.” It was as if it had been a command. Every inch of your body felt hot, almost overwhelmingly so. All the tension that had been simmering within you began to boil over. Your chest heaved in desperation for your impending release. Finally reaching your limit, your head craned back. Dio could feel the muscles in your stomach flex as your entire body went rigid for just a moment.
“Dio!” His name spilled from your lips over and over again in lustful, indecorous cries. With a final, satisfied exhale, your body went lax against his; your entire weight pressed placidly against his chest; a lewd expression of satisfaction glazed over your face. You nestled closer to him, feeling almost ashamed that it had happened so fast, but not enough to shy away from his side.
Dio reveled in your appearance, it was indeed a magnificent sight. He gently flicked his finger over your clit once more, chuckling as a tremor ran down your entire body. Feebly, you pushed his hand away, “ah... too… sensitive.”
“Hmph, well that’s no fun.” He drew his fingers from you and brought them to his mouth to savor your taste. A low grunt rumbled from his mouth as your sweetness met his tongue. He needed more.
You felt him shift beneath you, but before you could comprehend his movements, he was sitting squarely between your knees. His eyes were alight with golden sparks. His gaze was overwhelmingly intense as he stared up at you; watching with one hand resting against your knee, the other tracing patterns along your inner thigh. “May I?”
“Yes, please.” You nodded, trying to match the intensity in his eyes, but falling short as you watched him inch closer to your core.
His tongue lapped a broad stripe against the entire length of your cunt to assure himself that you were as sweet as you’d tasted before. You were. He groaned as he tasted you; never had he tasted anything quite as luxurious. It was damn near intoxicating. His tongue ran against your folds, tracing the crux of your entrance before slipping inside. Heady mewls filled Dio’s ears, the sound almost as sweet as the taste that now overwhelmed his senses. Your hips rolled into him; measured at first but growing more disordered as he picked up the pace of his ministrations. Your fingers combed into the golden strands of his hair; silky as they tangled beneath your grasp. “Dio!” Your voice came out in meek cries as the heat began to rise through your body. “That feels so good!”
He gave a hum of approval and allowed you to guide him to the spots that made you feel the best. Carefully, he charted each of your reactions as though you were a map to be memorized. He considered this a necessary step in learning what your body needed. And how to best assess those needs in the future. His movements became more forceful, more deliberate as he dragged his tongue along your sex. His mouth enclosed on your aching clit. Instantly, you gasped in appreciation, patting the back of his head as if in gratitude as your body began to convulse under his efforts. His tongue swirled over you while the suction of his mouth amplified every sensation. The familiar tension that you’d felt in your core tightened with each flick of his tongue. You helplessly begged him to continue “Please don’t stop!”
The grip you had on his hair tightened as you pushed him closer, your hips thrashed into his face in a frenzy. He placed one hand firmly on your pelvis to steady you. It sufficed to subdue the heedless bucking of your hips, though your thighs attempted to clamp shut to counter the overstimulation. But his actions never ceased.
The tension snapped, and for a moment you felt lighter than air. Your entire body prickled as the overwhelming sensation took hold. “Dio! Oh my god! Dio!” Your entire body convulsed under his touches. This orgasm had been far more intense than the first.
Through haggard breaths you attempted to regain your focus, watching him as he pulled away from your core. His lips, sticky from your orgasm. “That was beautiful.” He praised, his eyes observing you in your disheveled glory. To him, it seemed angelic. You had been brought to such a luscious state solely by his endeavors.
He regained his spot beside you on the couch. Languidly, he drew his arm over on your shoulder. A look of smug satisfaction written across his face. Your arms wrapped around his waist in a tight embrace. You needed to feel close to him. “Th-thank you.” You squealed, still trying to regain your composure.
His lips crashed against yours with an unexpected vehemence. Instantly your lips parted to accept his tongue which he eagerly rewarded you with. You could taste yourself on him as his tongue cascaded over yours. It was a deep, burning kiss, that left your already weak body pliant and yielding. It was the kind of kiss that suggested, at least to you, the importance of what had just occurred.
For a moment you rested in his arms after the kiss had broken, still coming down from your high as your breathing slowly returned to normal. Dio looked down at you and nestled his head against yours, pulling you closer to him in the process.
“Dio, would you like me to… return the favor?” You vaguely gestured to him, looking for permission.
He thought for a moment. Your offer was tempting, you had been more enticing to him than he ever could have expected, but this was a matter of pride. He wanted to show you that he was capable of sating any desire you may have as his lover. “Hmm, next time. Assuming I have proven myself deserving of a next time.”
“I’d say more than deserving.”
“Excellent, then I will be looking forward to next time.” His smile twisted to a smirk and he began peppering kisses all over your shoulders.
You quickly went about your nightly rituals, eager to fall into his arms again. Dio was aware of how eagerly you touched him, wanting to feel closer to him at any chance. He was more than accepting of these affections; now assured that you were irrefutably his. Though, in truth, you always had been.
You crawled into bed, the silk of your nightdress was cool against his skin as he pulled you to his chest. You eagerly accepted the new closer position as you curled up in his arms. Mindlessly, his fingers ran through your hair. “Thank you…” You mumbled, situating yourself even closer to him.
“For…?” He drew out the word with a certain poise; cool in its audacious implication.
“You know… everything?” Your voice held a bit of coyness, but not enough to deter you from sinking further into the gentle way his hand now traced over your thigh. He knew damn well what for. And he wasn’t going to let you forget it.
“Satisfied?” He asked with a smug countenance, as he leaned in to kiss your forehead in a way that felt almost chaste in comparison to the way his hands now caressed you.
“Beyond satisfied.” You mumbled, your arms worming their way around his neck as you dotted tiny kisses along his jaw and chin. It was true. You hadn’t felt that good in years.
Notes:
Dio Brando, the man you are!
Dio saying mademoiselle lives in my head rent-fucking-freeNormally I only title these chapters after songs, but Visions is such a lame title that I felt the need to include the accompanying lyric so you'd know exactly why I picked it :p
For the sake of historical accuracy, I wanted to say that, in spite of reader's worries, premarital sex was literally always a thing. It was just more taboo to talk about, but 'waiting til marriage' was always an ideal, not usually a reality at any point in history. I also found it really interesting that people didn't actually get married that young in the Victorian era; like the average age was mid-twenties. I feel like there's this belief that people were getting married in their teens, but apparently that wasn't the case. The more you know!
Chapter 12: Wintertime Love
Notes:
I fear I'm throwing a lot at you guys in this chapter, whoops! Buckle up.
(See the end of the chapter for more notes.)
Chapter Text
Dio’s lips tickled your neck and shoulders, slowly bringing you out of a sound sleep. “Oh, awake already? And here I thought you might sleep through the entire day.” Cool and dry, a chuckle reverberated off his lips and onto the sensitive skin of your neck like a shockwave.
“Can’t. Work.” You groaned, shifting out of his grasp. The idea of staying in bed all day, wrapped dutifully in your lover’s arms seemed a much more pleasant prospect than anything concerning your work as of late. But you took solace in knowing that your holiday break was drawing close. Every year the laboratory closed for Christmas and everyone was given the entire week off to accommodate travel plans and visiting relatives or any other kind of holiday merrymaking they may need to attend to. Normally you would be dreading such an extended period away from work. Before, any time spent away from your work only served to reinforce the heavy loneliness that lived with you, but now you felt differently, even excited for the upcoming holiday. The year prior, your landlord, Mrs. Marmalade had felt sorry that you’d be spending the holiday alone and invited you to the party at her family estate. It was a last minute request, out of pity, not sentimentality. Though, you had a sneaking suspicion she had been trying to set you up with one of her seven sons, one who was nearly twice your age, and a recent widower. Not that she fancied the idea of having you as a daughter-in-law, more than likely it was quite to the contrary. She thought you flagrantly improper, though not without certain merits. You carried yourself well, were well-spoken and articulate, clearly formally educated, and rather capable of conducting yourself in at least rudimentary forms of business; even if she found your position rather unsuitable. And there was an undeniable prettiness to you, even if it was an untamed and somewhat wild sort of beauty. Certainly, with the proper man, all of your unladylike wiles could be corrected. Perhaps you could be turned into something more becoming; or at the very least, she could get you to move out of her flat.
You shook off any lingering unpleasantness from last year’s interaction. “But this year will be different.” Sighing as melancholy memories of your happy childhood filled your head as you made your way to work. A morning frost had covered the ground with just enough ice to make the cobblestone slippery and treacherous, but the air was crisp and fresh. Winter always seemed to carry with it a kind of serenity that you couldn’t endeavor to name. Especially after the colors of autumn had faded, the tourists had gone, and all the students returned to whatever corner of the country they’d hailed from, it left your sleepy New England town shrouded in an almost eerie silence.
It was rather curious, but you had found yourself thinking more and more about your old life as of late. Thinking over what had been left behind. Your hometown, your family. What were they doing? Did they miss you? Had time actually passed for them at all, or was it stuck in a frozen stasis since the moment you left? So infrequently had you entertained those kinds thoughts in the past, that your emotions seemed to claw at you from inside, tearing your mind to tatters in an all-consuming tempest. Perhaps it was sentimentality over the approaching holidays, perhaps something else, something you dared not to name.
You waded through the muddled thoughts that sloshed through your mind all through the morning; hardly paying mind to the work laid out before you. Sighing heavily, you attempted to regain your misplaced focus. You settled back in your chair and began looking over a series of differential equations, only to be interrupted when one of your coworkers approached you. “Have you heard the news? The director is going to announce the old man’s successor and the end of this week before we break for the holidays”
You tried your best to ignore the man, you didn’t have time for mere idle chatter, and besides, your mind had been off somewhere else for several days now. You had not been giving your work the attention you ought to have been. “Well, that’s very nice, that’ll certainly bring a change of pace around here, but I am incredibly busy at the moment.”
“Oh, I thought you’d be interested since yours was one of the names being tossed around for the position.”
That was more than enough to catch your attention and entertain the man’s gossip for a while longer. “Wait, really?” In your excitement, your voice came out a bit louder than you’d intended.
“Yes, you among a few others.” He listed the other names, all the ones you’d expect, men who’d been working there far longer than you had with numerous accomplishments of their own. While you assumed it would be more likely that any one of these men got the position in your stead, you couldn’t help but feel galvanized knowing you were still up for consideration. And oh what a sweet feeling it would be. The idea was just titillating enough to keep your mind from returning to any vexatious thoughts of your old life. As such you were willing to indulge your fancies a little longer.
You walked home in the chilly air feeling more ignited than you had been that morning. Silently, you admired all the holiday decorations which had only become more numerous in all the windows and on all the doors of every home on the street. Every corner of your little town seemed aglow with the joy of the Christmas season.
Even your undecorated flat seemed more welcoming than ever with the soft lights shining through the windows. Dio was waiting at the door to greet you as he so often did. After having lived alone for so long, you’d forgotten how wonderful it can be to come home to someone, especially when your return was met with such fondness from someone you cared so deeply for. Though it often went unspoken, Dio missed you when you weren’t around. He had never thought himself capable of feeling so warmly about another person before, but there you were, and you were his.
As soon as the door opened you rushed into his arms as though you hadn’t seen him in ages. Although a bit jostled by the strength of your emotions, he accepted your affection gladly and pulled you in tightly, until his strong arms caged you against his chest. “Someone is excited this evening,” he chuckled while he ran his fingers through your hair.
“I can’t help it, I had a really good day.” You flashed a cheesy grin and leaned up to kiss him, “and it’s even better now that I’m with you.”
He scoffed, you were something else. The way you could say such things to him and he would find himself enjoying it, how did you manage to charm him with such silly ways? Graciously, he pulled you in for another longer, more passionate kiss, just to savor the feeling of your lips against his as he led you carefully back into your home.
His tongue glided along your bottom lip, searching for entry. His hands roamed over your body, finally settling on the buttons of your coat which were effortlessly undone by his skilled hands. He broke the kiss only to free you of your coat, but in those hazy few seconds, you looked around your flat and noticed that something was somehow different.
“Dio… did you get us a Christmas tree?” You placed your hands on his shoulders, searching within his eyes for the answer.
“You said you wanted one,” he replied with a shrug.
“I can’t believe you’d do that for me! That’s so… so sweet of you!” In an instant you were all over him, kissing his face, his jaw, his neck, anything that you could possibly reach. Whispered endearments were spliced between messy, torrid kisses that urged him for more.
A heavy hand fell on your shoulder to curtail your actions, while the other grasped your chin to force you to look at him again. “Well, you seemed rather excited, and since you’re quite busy during the week, I thought you would appreciate the gesture.”
“I do, I really do.” You felt a tightness in your chest, like a knot being pulled. It had been frightfully long since you’d had this unmistakable feeling. “Dio…” Your voice had fallen into a terribly serious tone, but was not without a lingering tremor. You breathed deeply as though to steady yourself. Without thinking, you took his hands in yours.
“I love you.”
He stood there frozen with your hands motionless in his, the tension built the longer the silence persisted. Your declaration to him did not exactly come as a surprise to him. Throughout the last several weeks your actions had been filled with nothing but compassion. In the kindly way you treated him, the way you accepted his faults in a way that was always understanding, Dio had been left feeling loved and accepted, perhaps more so than he ever had. It was a curious feeling and not one he had often experienced, but with a softness usually foreign to him, he’d begun to accept it, to depend on it even. But passive feelings were one thing, and an outright verbal proclamation was another. He had expected you to say a lot of things, but not anything quite so straightforward as that. Briefly, Dio considered how the lack of ambiguity surrounding your feelings would impact the trajectory of your relationship, but found himself unable to see beyond the present. For so long, Dio had known exactly what to feel, exactly what to think. But there was you, a glaring uncertainty in every aspect. “I…”
“It’s okay… you don’t have to say it back. But I needed you to know how I feel, and I am in love with you, Dio Brando.” The way you looked at him was unmistakably earnest. Those soft doe eyes that always sparkled with uninhibited vivacity were boring deep into him so brilliantly that he his mind went momentarily blank. In spite of your tender disposition, Dio had come to regard you as a force of nature, relentless and wild as the wind.
Love, what a complicated concept, and as far as Dio had entertained up until recently, a frivolous one. Certainly, he had read many books where the characters had fallen into some deep and important love that changed them or otherwise broken them, but throughout his life, he had never experienced it. In his childhood, his father had never said anything kind or loving towards his mother, and there were many times his mother excused the abuse his father had inflicted upon her. That couldn’t have been born out of love, could it? How tragic that seemed to him now. Perhaps his mother had loved his father, or at least a part of him that Dio had never gotten to meet, but what good had her love gotten her? Certainly, she was worse for it. Certainly, she would’ve been justified if she hated him the way that Dio did. Certainly, all her love was never met in the way it ought to’ve been. Even Dio had taken her love for granted in the days of green, not knowing what frost-bitten wasteland awaited him without her. And so at his tender age, he came to the conclusion that love would always be in vain, something he was better off without.
Even during the time he’d spent living with the Joestars, he wasn’t sure he’d seen anything akin to love. Jonathan’s mother had passed away many years ago and George Joestar never considered remarrying. And while George cared for him as a son, he never bothered to consider if it was out of love or obligation. Sure, he had seen some of his peers in college fall in love, or so they claimed, but it always seemed superficial to him. Opportunistic betrothals arranged by wealthy families and clandestine affairs. No, it was all far too tedious and far too complicated, seemingly always clouded by some other malicious desire, and yet, you made it look so possible to love another person in such an uncomplicated, and altruistic way.
“Dio, I know I said that you didn’t have to say it back, but can you please say… something?”
He embraced you instead; still contemplating the most advantageous way to express this sentiment. He knew he was attracted to you. He knew that you intrigued him. He knew that he certainly enjoyed your company among several other things you provided him. But love was something else entirely. He wasn’t meant to feel it, he wasn’t meant to have it. He’d never even considered it. His relationship with you was… it was; that was strange. He didn’t quite know what it was. All his life, Dio had always known exactly what to say; exactly what he needed to say in order to get what he wanted. Clearly, the proper response would be to requite your affection, even if he didn’t mean it. But the way you’d spoken to him, assured him, he found himself unable to say it. It wouldn’t be right if it wasn’t sincere. “I think that you are very important to me, but I—”
“Thank you.” You kissed him very softly on his cheek, that had been enough to crush the insecurity in his lack of reciprocation. “It’s okay. If you’ve never been in love before, I understand how scary it can be, so take your time and for now, just know that I will love you, and that’s all that matters.”
‘Scary…’ No, he wasn’t sure scary was the right word. Muddled was nearer the mark. He knew when he entered a relationship with you that you would be wanting more from him than he had previously considered giving to another person. And as of yet, things had gone rather smoothly, everything about you was enjoyable. Though defining things in exacts still seemed a rather arduous task. The way you expressed your feelings seemed so effortless. Inwardly, it was a quality Dio admired about you. Everything you said was honest, and yet somehow, it all seemed exactly right. Like you had somehow figured out precisely what he needed to hear. In a way it made him feel safe, but at the same time, deeply disconcerted.
You observed the evergreen which now adorned the picture window of your living room, filling the air with the idyllic, nearly nostalgic smell of pine. It was not quite as impressive as the ones you’d decorated in your youth, but it seemed just as sentimental. Your fingertips grazed over the stiff needles, which were fresh and slightly springy to your touch. You imagined how pretty it would look aglow with sparkling candles and shiny baubles. This year would be different.
You sat at the table, still lost in your thoughts as you took dinner. Longingly you gazed across the table at Dio, watching as he cut his food with the same adept precision he always had, but now it seemed to you more charming from the new context from which you viewed him. In truth, everything about him seemed even more tempting now that it wasn’t forbidden. “Is something the matter?” The sultry drawl of his voice pulled you back into reality.
“No, no. I just… I don’t know if I thanked you properly for the tree. I mean it, really, it was beyond nice of you.”
“I believe your show of gratitude was more than sufficient.”
“You know, I really love the holidays. I haven’t been able to properly celebrate since I arrived here, but I’m really looking forward to it… with you.” You smiled warmly, offering an airy giggle before taking a bite of your dinner.
“We can do whatever you’d like,” he offered, a bit indifferently.
“Hey, we can’t just do the things I want, there must be traditions you have as well.”
“Really, this seems far more important to you than it is to me. Anything you like will be fine.”
“Oh, come on, don’t be a Scrooge! If you don’t play along, I’ll have to show up at your bedside and make you recompense for all your misdeeds.”
“Now darling, I hope you don’t think it would be at all threatening to find you at my bedside. Much to the contrary, it would be welcomed, though I think I would prefer you in a different position.”
A rosy glow covered your cheeks. It’s not as though the thought had ever been far from your mind, especially in the days that followed your previous intimacies. That coupled with your impending break, leaving you with ample free time had filled you with the assurance that the prospect of sex was a near inevitability. “I-I think, maybe, that could be taken into consideration.”
His lips curled into a devilish smirk. “Oh, my dear, I believe you are already far too generous with me.” He stood up from the table and cleared the plates. His hand grazed over your shoulders as he moved across the room. It didn’t matter how often he touched you, his touches always filled you with a mystifying jolt of electricity. You carried the feeling as you readied yourself for bed.
“I know it seems a bit childish.” You mumbled, leaning with your head on his shoulder while he lightly traced his fingers over your leg. “But it really means a lot to me. I’ve just always had so much love for the holidays. I would always feel so safe, especially when my family would gather all around and the entire house was aglow with twinkling lights and filled with the smell of gingerbread. I don’t know, there was just something really magical about it all. Like nothing bad could ever happen at Christmas.”
Dio hummed softly but only continued tracing more elaborate patterns up your leg.
“Every year when I was a little girl, my mom would read Little Women to me. I think that’s why I grew to love reading. Even when I got older, we’d still make time to watch the movie. Even when things were difficult between us, we always came together for Christmas, it was like a fresh start.” You paused, a feeling of unease ran through you as you tossed over the myriad of thoughts you’d pushed aside that morning. “I wonder if she still watches the movie, even though I’m not there.” You sighed when you felt his arm curl around you. “I miss her sometimes, even though we had our differences, she’s still my mom.”
“I understand.” As before when you spoke solemnly about your past, he lacked the ability to offer you the proper words of reassurance he felt would be meaningful, but the way he squeezed your shoulder felt plenty comforting to you.
“My time away has given me the perspective that most of our disagreements were unnecessary. Perhaps we were both too hardheaded for our own good. I guess it doesn’t really matter now, does it?"
"I believe you are thinking far too much for your own good. You will only cause yourself needless worry."
You settled into the feeling, a constrained wonder over how things could've been different crept cruelly into you. Perhaps it was for nought, to trouble yourself over things beyond your control. "You know, part of me wishes I could show you where I grew up. It was this beautiful historical Victorian Italianate home. It was surrounded by trees of all sorts. It’s been in my family ever since it was built in 1870, and I don’t know. I think it was the most beautiful place I’ve ever been. Especially when it would snow. I used to love to look out the frost-covered windows and watch the snow glisten like millions of tiny stars. It was just… perfect. I know it’s useless to think about it now, but I’d always hoped that one day it would come to me.”
“It’s charming to know you’d consider me historical.” A wily sneer crawled across his face before he leaned down to graze his lips along the side of your face in a series of open mouth kisses.
“Oh my gosh, I didn’t mean… I hadn’t thought… I guess an 18-year-old house seems less impressive than a 150-year-old house.”
“I see your mind is still stuck in the 21st century,” he said, tousling your hair.
“I suppose it is. I guess I never really did let go of my past life at all. Funny, huh?” You drew yourself closer to him in a mindless search for comfort.
Dio accepted you, leaning his head against yours to placate your need. “If I may be so bold, I think there is a large part of you that wants to return home. And I think you could do it, supposing you properly tried to.”
“Dio, I wouldn't… I don’t want to leave you. I love you, remember.”
“Naturally, I would accompany you.”
“I-I know what I said before, and I meant it, but I don’t know. I mean, this is a power I have no control over. It brought me here of its own volition. Sometimes I wish I could just forget about it. I’d rather fully commit to being a proper Victorian lady.”
“I prefer you the way you are, I don’t see why you would want to deny such a fascinating aspect of yourself, it’s rather interesting. Just one of the many facets of you that intrigue me.”
“I suppose there is a level of intrigue, but I haven’t been able to form many close relationships because of all this secrecy. It’s been rather isolating, not being able to open up to anyone. I appreciate you allowing me to do so with you.”
“Well, I for one find it alluring. Salacious. Sexy.” His teeth grazed the outside of your ear as he spoke. “And I enjoy keeping your secret. Anything else would be dreadfully boring. And I certainly enjoy listening to all of your fanciful stories. Especially knowing they belong only to me.”
“I suppose, but—”
“I think you ought to give yourself more credit. I think you would be far more adept than you know.”
“Maybe. But overall, I am happy here. And I’d be more than content to stay here and love you the way I think you deserve to be.” He cupped your cheek in his large hand; the warmth from his fingertips radiated against your skin. You leaned into his touches and let guide you into a heated kiss. “Dio, I shouldn’t have said that you’re afraid to be loved. Back when I was trying to get you to stay. It was wrong of me. I should’ve let my actions speak instead. I should’ve loved you then as I intend to love you now.”
“Ah, there it is, yet another facet of yours that is so intriguing to me.” He pulled your body flush against his, you were so close that you could feel the regular beating of his heart. Once again you were drowned in an overwhelming kiss. The feeling of his plush lips against yours filled your entire body with an all-encompassing warmth. You let out an involuntary moan, your hands settled on his shoulders. With a gentle urging, you attempted to maneuver him over you, but you were left wanting as the sensation disappeared, and in its stead, you felt a book placed onto your lap. “You promised we would finish today.”
Dumbfounded, you stared thoughtlessly at your copy of Lord of the Rings, hardly even able to perceive it after such a ravenous kiss and the whiplash from being pulled out of it abruptly. “You’re right, I did promise.” You replied, still trying to catch your breath.
“It is a shame, though. It’s been so pleasant curling up with you like this,” he mused, taking up his usual spot next to you.
“Well, I suppose you can pick something else out for me to read to you. Unfortunately, I don’t have anything else from the future, so you’ll have to settle.”
“Perhaps. Though, if I didn’t know any better, my dear, I would think you were looking for something else to occupy our evenings.” That sultry tone— it was almost cruel in the way each saccharine word seemed to melt into you.
Unimaginably flustered, you sifted through the pages to find your place. Sheepishly, you read through the last few chapters with an unceremonious haste. The position of Dio’s hand ever taunting you as you did.
“You know,” he began, taking the book for your hand as you finished. “This was rather macabre for a book you claim is read by children.”
“I suppose. I think it was in part a sign of the times. A reaction to the tumult of the early 20th century. But in truth, I think it had to be. It’s more than just a battle of good versus evil; there is nuance. It shows how even good men can be corrupted when power is too tempting. Some will crave it to their detriment. For some, more will never be enough. They will seek something they can never attain until it consumes them.” You paused briefly, letting your fingers run through the flaxen tendrils of Dio’s hair as he sat in silent contemplation. “But I also think the inverse to be true. And that’s why I so adamantly wanted to show you that there is good within you, too. Even if you don’t realize it. I think that’s why I love you.”
“Hmm, yet another reason why you intrigue me so.” His voice was nonchalant, but inwardly he wondered if what you said was true. Certainly, you believed it to be, and maybe that was good enough. In some ways, he did feel rather different. Having spent years dwelling on nothing but vile machinations he hadn’t thought goodness to be possible; nor had he wanted such a notion. His goals were his only reason for living. And yet, with you in his arms, so unrelentingly soft, he felt as though a part of him, long left unattended, had been brought back to life. The Joestars, their fortune, even his past, it all seemed somehow unimportant.
“Dio…” Your voice felt rather timid as you pulled away from him, softly meeting his gaze. “Do you still have that mask? The one you told me about when we first met, the one you’d taken from Jonathan?”
“I do.” His reply was curt and indifferent. How strange that you should bring such a thing up now.
“I think you should send it back to him.”
“And why would I do that?”
“I just think…I don’t like what it represents. I don’t like having it in my house. And, I understand that you may never want to return to the Joestars after what happened, but I think if you send it back, you could be free of them altogether.”
“I-” he stopped and thought. Really, what use did he have for the thing now? Though the thought of returning the thing to Jonathan felt like a defeat to him, it certainly did seem to hold a strange weight to it that, as long as he held onto it, he would be forced to bear. He looked at your sweet face, so hopeful and loving, you would want him to let it go, to break free from his past. “I think, my dear, that you are right.” He pulled you back to his chest, once again admiring the way you filled the space beside him. “It is the last thing that chains me to the Joestars, it would be better to be rid of it.” You kissed him gently in return before extinguishing the light. “I’ll send it out tomorrow if that would please you.”
Though some may not have noticed, it seemed clear to you that the Dio that sat before you was very different from the one you happened upon while walking home from work.
“It would, thank you.” You curled into his arms, letting his hands fall around your waist as he dotted several kisses along your collar. “And Dio, I promise, you don’t have to go back there if you don’t want to. I won’t push you to. I love you.”
How odd, at that moment he realized that he didn’t much care what happened to the Joestars as long as he kept you. The moment he decided to let it go he felt strangely free.
Notes:
This is one of my favorite chapters, I can't even explain it properly ahh!
I know that Dio says that he isn't scared, but I like to think that there's probably some lingering fear there, since the only person he ever loved ended up leaving, he's probably worried that if he lets himself love someone else that they'll leave too :(In my head, I based reader's childhood home predominantly off of a particular house in my city. That house was built in 1863, but I wanted her house to have been built after Dio was born for the funnies, so I changed it to 1870 since the Italianate architectural style would've still been used, though admittedly on its way out here in the states.
This specifically is why I leaned into the Lord of the Rings motifs. The idea of power and something that is evil and tempting, but specifically the choice to leave it behind; I thought it was just too good not to parallel. More on that in the next one, but I am very much being a nerd about it.
Fun fact, many modern Christmas decorations were popularized during the Victorian era! I thought the tree was just too sweet, ugh!
Chapter 13: Can't Fight This Feeling
Notes:
whoever said that 13 was unlucky?
CW: NSFW yay!!!
(See the end of the chapter for more notes.)
Chapter Text
The week had finally drawn to its end as Friday arrived with an unexpected chill that rattled deep in the bones of the residents of your little port town, but it had left you awash with serenity. The rosy glow of nostalgia twinkled in your eyes. With only one shift remaining, there was nothing that could upset your cheery mood.
The frosty air made its way into your flat which always seemed a bit drafty when the wind off the water was just so, but your skin bristled for a different reason. Roused from sleep with a shiver that surged through your body as Dio dotted several feather-light kisses along your shoulders. Tightly, his arm curled around your waist as he watched you sleepily react to him. He was just as excited for your break as you were. His mind had wandered to all of the things he would do with you, evening walks through town just so he could show you off, cozying up with books on the couch, and he would love to properly take you out for a nice dinner, additionally, he knew you wanted to decorate for Christmas and he certainly intended to indulge your desire if it meant he got to bask in the glow of your jubilation. Many options fluttered through his head as he continued kissing along your neck. A drowsy, half-hearted groan escaped you as you urged him to continue and, unthinkingly, your body pressed into him… oh, yes— certainly, he would want to do that as well.
Ever since the first night he spent sober in your house, Dio had thought about what you would look like tangled beneath him in the cocoon of your bedsheets. It was an image that never fully left his mind and somehow only seemed emboldened since he had gotten a taste of you. Patiently, he had been biding his time, waiting until the perfect opportunity arose; one that would not only leave him looking like the gentleman he intended to portray himself as, but also leave you frenzied and begging for him.
It was a minor scheme; the stakes were rather low, he thought. But it was a meticulously crafted plan nonetheless. One he took great pleasure in devising. However, the longer he waited for this perfect moment, the more he was forced to sit with his own desires and that was becoming increasingly difficult to ignore, especially with the more liberties you granted him.
He moved his arm to caress your side, but he felt you slip out of bed before he could, leaving him alone in bed as you went to prepare breakfast. He watched you cross the room, taking in the sway of your nightshirt with each subtle movement. Certainly, you must’ve been teasing him with the way your pajamas seemed to get shorter every night.
He went to take a shower in the hopes that it would quell some of the thoughts swirling through his head. The water was frigid and caused his skin to prickle with thousands of tiny goosebumps, but it was enough to ease his mind, albeit temporarily.
Half dressed with a towel draped around his neck, he strode into the kitchen, instantly met with the smell of breakfast cooking on the stove. “You don’t play fair at all, do you?” You sighed, shaking your head as you mindlessly stirred the scrambled eggs in front of you, eyes shamelessly fixated on Dio’s statuesque physique as you looked him up and down to take in each of his glorious details. It hit you at once that there were not many men whom you’d classify as beautiful, but Dio certainly was. “You know my feelings for you, you know that I love you, and yet you still wish to tease me.”
He chuckled coyly, truthfully he hadn’t intended to tease you, he was just waiting for his hair to dry, but your chagrined reaction was more than satisfactory. “I can’t be held responsible for how your body reacts to me.”
“Whatever you say, but you’re not fair, and I don’t… ouch, shit that really hurts.” You pulled your hand away from the stove, you had been so distracted that you’d forgotten which burner was on and inadvertently rested your palm on the hot stove.
“Let me see,” Dio instructed, his voice commanding and stern with a hint of clinical coolness that pervaded his actions. You opened your hand to reveal a patch along the edge of your palm where the skin was red and raised. “Are you alright?” His tone fell to one of greater concern and less admonishment. Relieved to see that it did not seem anything serious.
“I’m okay. It wasn’t that bad, I’ve gotten worse while in the lab.” You looked at the injury, it really wasn’t that bad, but it hurt nonetheless and you did your utmost to fight off any unwelcome tears.
“You ought to be more careful.” He chided, but this time you could tell that it came from a place of concern. “It should still be bandaged.” He grumbled and pulled your hand firmly under the sink, letting cold water run over it. The soothing sensation it provided was abruptly cut short by Dio lifting you onto the countertop. He dried your hand gently and carefully bandaged the burn.
“Kiss it and make it better?” You asked with the coyest of smiles. Though begrudgingly, he raised your hand to his lips and bestowed upon it the tiniest kiss.
“You really do need to be more careful.” He repeated, this time much more gently as his hand grazed over the side of your face. After a brief hesitation, he pressed a seemingly insignificant kiss onto your lips.
“Okay, I’ll try.” Your words trailed out in a breathless drawl as you leaned in to close the gap between your body and his. Dio moved to step between your legs, parting them instinctively as your lips crashed onto his. His hands slid down to your hips in a breathless flurry as your tongue glided over his lips, pulling him deeper into the kiss.
A suppressed moan strayed from your mouth and fell against his. Fuck. All that consideration given to devising the perfect moment was giving way to carnal impulses and he was powerless to stop the impending inferno that threatened to light between you with the slightest spark. Dio knew full well he could’ve had you last night if he had the mind to, the way you touched him, your expectant face after every kiss, and the way your body clung to his throughout the night, all left the unquestionable impression that you were more than willing to accept his advances, but each time he had cleverly denied you in a means to build you up to the point of unyielding desire. Of course, in doing so, he had to stave off his own wants, and that was proving more challenging than he bargained for. If you accused him of not playing fair then what on earth would you call this? Your body was soft and willing against his, your lips parted just so as you gazed at him with glassy eyes and flushed cheeks. Had you not realized what a tremendous effort it was for him to hold back from you? By all accounts you were a highly perceptive and intelligent woman, so Dio found it hard to believe that you were clueless to his desires for you. Perhaps you hadn’t noticed how he clung to every little touch, every groan, hell, even every time your breath hitched when he pulled you closer to him in bed, but you could not pretend to be clueless, even if that dazed expression on your face suggested otherwise.
With you like that on the counter, and him standing flush between your legs he was more aware than ever of how badly he wanted you. He couldn’t deny his desires any longer, you were far too appealing. He gritted his teeth, scheming be damned, you had to be his. Lightly, he began to trace his finger up your thigh, eagerly watching your reaction as you gave into each touch. “What would you have me do?”
“Dio,” you spoke into his ear in a lyrical whisper, “don’t stop.”
Something snapped within him the moment those words left your lips. In an instant, you were lifted off the counter and into Dio’s strong arms. He turned and pressed you flat against the table with an unbridled urgency. “N-not here, table’s… set.” With an annoyed growl, he slid you back into his arms, instinctively your legs wrapped around him as you crossed the wooden floors, the unrelenting need growing with every step.
Your nightshirt had been pulled over your head and discarded as he pressed your body into the couch. Pulling back from you just enough to admire your naked form. He looked at you with a gaze so intense you felt as though you were burning up from fever. Inclined to cover yourself, you attempted to fold your arms over your chest, but Dio easily pulled them apart. “Let me look at you," he crooned, leaning over you so that you could feel the warmth radiating off of him. “Stunning.” At that moment, everything about you seemed immaculate to him.
He began placing rough and haphazard kisses along your neck, trailing down between your breasts with an insatiable hunger. He cupped your breasts tenderly, kneading them softly beneath his fingers, before closing his mouth over your nipple. His tongue swirled over the tender bud with tremendous skill. The groan that escaped you was not lost on him; he loved every one of your body’s reactions to him. As always, they were unreservedly honest.
His hand then travelled down your waist, taking care to trace the subtlety of your curves with a methodical directness before he allowed his fingers to slip between your folds. Your back arched in immediate reaction to the sensation. “Oh, my dear, how needy you are already.” His tone was smug, but hardly concealed his own eagerness at finding how slick you were for him as two fingers dipped easily inside of you. You hadn’t realized just how wet you were until that moment.
“N-need you… wanted you… for so long.”
“Oh, darling, I’m aware.”
“Then why are you making me wait?” The seductive way in which you snarled that uninhibited request left him painfully aware of his own needs. You gave a disgruntled whine as his fingers withdrew from you. Under another circumstance, Dio would’ve mocked your desperation and teased you until you couldn’t see straight, but fuck he was already impossibly hard and the painful throb of his erection radiated through his core in tandem with the thrum of his heartbeat echoing in his ears.
He made quick work of his pants, discarding them to the floor to reclaim the spot between your legs. Your eyes widened like saucers upon seeing him. His height, his build, his hands, everything about him suggested the size would be impressive, but the reality was beyond comprehension. His cock, just like the rest of him, seemed masterfully crafted of marble, as though he’d been sculpted meticulously with the intent of encapsulating some otherworldly kind of beauty that had not been conceptualized since antiquity. The length alone taunted you, suggested there was no way all of him could fit. The fine taper and elegant slope all promised to fill you in ways you couldn’t have imagined before. He kneeled above you with a knowing smugness as he stroked himself in admiration of your needy body, a glossy bead of precum formed at the tip as a result of his own efforts.
He leaned onto you, dipping the head of his cock just slightly between your folds, gliding teasingly along at a pace that brought you to the brink of whining. “Dio, I’m ready. Please.”
He gave a hoarse scoff as he firmly grabbed one of your thighs with one hand while the other gripped the base of his cock to line himself up at your entrance. “So impatient… fuck.” His breathy admonishment faded into a lustful groan as he sank into you. With every subtle roll of his hips, he fucked deeper into you, acquainted himself with the way your plush walls clamped around him so tightly that it hindered his movements.
“Oh my… god.” Your head lolled back against the arm of the couch as you adjusted to his formidable size. In an almost brutish action, he grabbed your other thigh, roughly holding it in place to glean himself the more fortuitous position as he began at a slow, calculated rhythm to keep himself from getting lost in the heavenly way your body formed around his. But your touch held an element of danger as your bodies laced together and your fingers splayed across his skin with reckless ardency. So unmoved had he been by all his previous affairs, but from the first touch of your hand, he’d been shaken to his very foundation, forced to watch the pieces of his well-crafted facade crumble to ash and dust. You whimpered as each thrust seemed to spread you further than you would have ever conceived possible. Dio groaned in approval at the way your nails dug ferociously into the skin of his shoulders. The feeling was a reminder of how real the moment was, enough to placate the bounding terror that clawed through the annals of his memory.
Panting breathlessly, your hips bucked upwards to meet him. The motion only granted you fractionally more access to the feeling you were so ravenous to experience. You set your hands on his upper arms as your breath came out in soft groans, so needy for more. Your eyes met his; he captured you with that same all-encompassing intensity that had grown familiar since knowing him, but now, it seemed to cradle you in an easy warmth. Your hips rolled into his to match his pace, granting him just the right angle to bottom out within you. “Dio-ah please, please, more!”
The grip he had on your thighs intensified to one of bruising strength as his pace quickened. Finally, your desires were met in full. The way he was fucking you assured you that he damn well intended to keep his promise of making you forget all of your former lovers until only the memory of how thoroughly he now had you remained. Your back arched off the couch as the tension began to build deep within your core. “Dio…” every movement he made coaxed another lustful moan out of you, “fuck... so close!”
“Hmph, so soon?” He chided, a smirk set across his face as he admired the way you looked beneath him. Many times he had pictured it; your body writhing pathetically beneath his with you spread helplessly around his cock, but the real thing far surpassed anything his imagination could endeavor to create. The way his name dripped off your lips was nothing short of perfection. Every gasp, every disjointed movement you made was bringing him to his inevitable release, far sooner than he had anticipated. He released your thighs, letting them slacken at your sides as his hand ventured to your clit. His practiced fingers circled the bud with unprecedented dexterity.
“Yes!” The word was in part an answer to his question as well as a show of gratitude for the new sensation that caused your hips to squirm, finally free of their previous restraints. A low hiss escaped him as he drove into you at a pace that he knew could not long be maintained. Nearly lost in the way your walls squeezed him just perfectly. In an instant, Dio felt all his former lovers melt away.
“I want you to cum for me.” He growled it was less a suggestion and more an order. You could tell the urgency by his now irregular thrusts that his own orgasm would not be far behind yours.
You feebly nodded as the sensation began to overtake you, the tension within you pulled tighter as a warmth began to spread over your entire being, enveloping you from the pink of your cheeks to your curling toes. “Dio!” You felt it was a shrill, unceremonious squeal that escaped you as the tension snapped and your orgasm crashed over you, “I love you.”
Every sensation felt heightened, syncopated jolts of electricity ran through your body in tandem with each meager movement. Dio gave you no time to revel in the glow of your orgasm before immediately chasing his own. The bruising grip returned to your thighs, his pace now frenzied and haphazard as he became more generous in his vocalizations. Restrained groans gave way to a surge of curses through labored breaths with echoes of your name spliced in between.
“Fuck!” He slammed into you with a viscous force as he came, spilling deep inside of you. Airy praises came soon to follow as he attempted to gather himself. His arms snaked around your back to pull you closer, his cock still inside you as your bodies relaxed against one another.
You felt your head begin to break free of the daze you’d been in since he’d first touched you. Your forehead rested firmly against his collarbone as he ran his hands along the plush skin of your lower back, “Dio, that was… you were… just… wow.” The words danced across your mind in a flurry, but none seemed to land in an order that made anything close to a coherent sentence.
“Satisfied?” He asked as he pulled himself out of you and into a more comfortable seated position. You bemoaned the loss of contact and immediately crawled onto his lap as though to hold onto the intimate moment a little bit longer. His head fell against the back of the couch in contemplation as you dotted kisses along the line of his jaw. “Is that a ‘yes’?”
“Of course!”
“Good.” He raised your hand to his lips and kissed the bandage. “You know, you really ought to stay home today; you are injured after all.” Up until that moment, you had all but forgotten about the burn on your hand, which no longer seemed to hurt at all.
“I wish that I could, but it’s my last day before the holidays, I promise, when I get home I’m all yours, for whatever you want.” You mused wistfully, letting your body melt into his arms as you enjoyed the gentle way his hands doted over your body as though it were something to be revered.
He looked down at you with that same devilish smirk that made you lose your senses. “Be careful making promises like that. You know that I will hold you to them.”
“After this morning, I hope you don’t think that sounds like a threat.”
He shook his head in playful admonishment,“tsk tsk, what a naughty girl, are you already asking for more?” Skillfully, he slipped his hand between your legs, ghosting his fingers over your sensitive core, “because that could be arranged.” You gasped sharply at the feeling, grabbing tightly to his shoulders to steady yourself. “So sensitive already?” He lifted your chin and pulled you in for a long, romantic kiss that left your entire body feeling weightless. If he continued like this, you might not make it to work after all.
“I really do have to go.” You feebly nodded with a forlorn sigh, holding his arm in place. If you didn’t know better you’d say his face looked rather dejected. “I wouldn’t leave if I didn’t have to.” He exhaled in annoyance but ultimately relented and helped you to your feet, watching as you disappeared into the bedroom to ready yourself for the day as he redressed himself.
You quickly dressed in your work clothes and returned to the living room, giving Dio a soft peck on the cheek. “I’m off, but I will see you tonight.”
“No breakfast?” He chided, letting his hand run along the side of your face.
“I can't, I'm already late. Make something nice for dinner?”
“Oh, and where do you get off thinking you can tell me, Dio, what to do?”
“I think you know exactly where I get off.”
“So I do.” This time his hands slinked across your waist, he quickly debated if he should pull you back onto his lap, but thought better of it.
“I’ll be home as soon as I can, okay?” You leaned over and kissed him one last time before heading out the door.
He leaned back once again with a heavy sigh, allowing all the thoughts in his head to coalesce. You had been every bit as good as he’d imagined. No, far better, your body must’ve been tailor-made for him. Though in part, he felt a bit remorseful that he hadn’t been able to indulge in your body in the proper, meticulous way he’d intended. He damn well hadn’t intended for it to happen so offhandedly on the couch as though he couldn’t control himself. Maybe he couldn’t, but no matter. He intended to remedy it.
Another sigh escaped him as he stared up at the ceiling. The monumental task weighing on him. What was done couldn't be undone, but perhaps he could be free of the chains that fettered him to his horrendous past. A past he had no intention of ever involving you in. If he could truly let go, then it was carte blanche for him to start anew. Once this was done, he would be rid of the Joestars and their influence on his life; for better or for worse.
He collected the mask from his coat, where it had been left, biding its time since his plans had changed. He felt the cool stone on his hands. A dreadful thing it looked to him now. It was the last thing tying him to Jonathan, to the Joestars. The last reminder of the scheme that he had so long contrived, the last reminder of the failure that miraculously led to your presence in his life. It wasn’t half the failure he’d originally thought if his success with you was anything to show for it.
He sat at the desk in your office, his mind off in faraway contemplation. The letter to JoJo had been crafted. It was curt and to the point. Clearly, there was no love lost between him and his brother. Being rid of him was the last step. He leaned back, not without feeling a bit sulky. How strange it was that you came into his life at that exact moment.
With haste, he fashioned the mask as a suitable parcel and carried it to the nearest post office. He paid the postage and had it sent away first class. It was done. He no longer had anything to bind him to the Joestars. He was, at last, free.
Back in your flat Dio laid on your bed, playing back all the scenes that had passed since that night in late November. Everything at once seemed so different. What had once been the blackest night was now the brightest daylight and the warm golden light of the sun glowed around him in the brilliance that he deserved.
He was ever perplexed by the way he could be so starkly changed by something so seemingly simple. You were special in your own right, special to him, at the very least, but by and large an ordinary woman, and yet, there was something indescribable in your ways. Dio had always viewed the threads of his life preceding forward in neat, parallel lines. Ever uninterrupted by the meddling of outside forces. They merely continued on as they were meant to. Never deviating and never crossing. Yet instantly they became disordered and frayed the moment he crashed into you. He recollected the way you combed through the disheveled mess that was his life and neatly arranged each thread, but forever intertwined them with your own. As he lay on the bed that once belonged to you and then so briefly to him, but now was at last shared by you both, he wondered if you knew exactly how much you meant to him. But there was time yet to consider the proper way to portray such a notion.
Notes:
Is it a crime to use an REO Speedwagon song as the title of a chapter in a Dio x reader fic? Listen, I am from Illinois, it's like the law that we have to like REO, they'd deport you to Indiana if you didn't.
Big morning for Dio, he got to fuck his little lady and he sent the mask back to Jonathan.
I know I've been super nerdy about the lord of the rings motifs before, but gosh, I just really wanted to do it this way. When I started writing this, I wanted him to give up the mask on his own, make the choice to be rid of it. Vaguely, I wrote it to parallel my absolute favorite scene from lord of the rings, when Galadriel willingly chooses not to accept the ring, even though she knew that if it was destroyed the age of magic will end and her beloved Lothlorien will fade. Even though Dio doesn't (at present) know the true power of the mask, it was still representative of his wicked desires to murder the Joestars and gain their fortune, so in willingly sending it back, he was able to break free of that desire. I hope it came out as pretty as I wanted it to.
Only one day left until the winter holiday, I wonder how it's going to be spent... ;D
Chapter 14: I'm Into Something Good
Notes:
guys this is really just fluff, sorry, maybe, kind of :)
(See the end of the chapter for more notes.)
Chapter Text
You ran down the street with alarming haste, minding where you stepped so as to not slip on any errant patches of ice as the frosty morning air prickled your skin. After such an eventful morning, you were running rather late and you did not need anything else to cause further complications. Upon arriving at your work, you were grateful that your tardiness had gone unnoticed as you slinked in with the slyness of a fox, only to collapse at your desk a moment later.
While you recognized that though Dio had certainly made sure that you were more than satisfied, he hadn’t exactly been gentle either. Not that you could complain, he was an excellent lover and sex with him had exceeded even your highest of expectations. He was rough, but by god did he know exactly how to touch you in a way that left you feeling beguiled and absolutely adored. You just hadn’t counted on being so worn out afterwards, perhaps it had just been so long since you’d experienced that kind of untethered desire, that you hadn’t considered what both a physical and emotional exertion it would be and of course his more than generous size had not helped the matter.
You went through the rest of the morning quietly with your head still in a daze. You secretly hoped no one would ask anything of you the entire day so that you could continue appearing as though you were busy then quietly sneak out in the early evening. In truth, by the time the afternoon came around you still hadn’t accomplished any work at all. Your mind kept wandering back to Dio, wondering what he was doing at that particular moment, was he thinking about you? Had he put as much meaning into the morning’s events as you had? You hoped, at the very least, that it meant something more to him than just sex. It had to. Even if he didn’t love you, at least not in the way that you loved him, he still cared about you. He made that quite known through his actions. It had been so long since you’d felt anything close to the dizzying flurry of emotions that you had forgotten altogether what it was like. Patience was something you had to award him if you intended to love him in the way you believed he deserved to be loved. Your mind ran through a host of different ideas. There were so many things about a relationship with Dio that you had not considered when you rushed headlong into one, but nonetheless, you remained steadfastly resolved that you were more than certain about him. Your love for him had only been affirmed in the way you seamlessly drifted into daydreams of him ravaging you the moment you returned home.
“Excuse me.” The voice of your co-worker repeated, finally breaking you out of your daydreams.
“Oh! I’m fine, is-is everything okay?”
He stared at you for a moment with an expression that altered between frustrated and confused, you had never seemed so distracted at work before. Had you been that oblivious the entire time?
“The director would like to see you in his office.”
Shit. You knew you’d been zoning out, but you hadn’t realized it had been so obvious. You attempted to soothe yourself, rationalizing that it was the last day before the holiday, surely everyone had other things on their minds besides work. “Did he say what he wanted?”
“I am only the messenger.” He responded gruffly before walking steadily back to his own work, his detached intonation had offered you nothing in the way of ascertaining any further information that may have set your mind at ease or else, at the very least, help you to tailor your attitude for what the situation demanded.
You mustered the necessary courage with a disconsolate sigh and began the trek to your boss’s office in the back of the building. Each of your steps was measured as you attempted to conceal the heavy trepidation that crept into your chest. You kept your eyes firmly focused on the ground to avoid the judgmental stares that even still managed to permeate your body and fill you with a morose sense of anxiety. You felt as though you were a child getting sent to the principal’s office. The arduous walk seemed endless, each step seeming to get you marginally closer to your destination.
You made a motion to knock on the door, but he bade you into his office before you could. “You wanted to see me, sir?” You maintained a professional tone to your voice in an attempt to appear more composed than the rapid beating of your heart allowed.
“Indeed, I did.” His stoic expression did not offer you any insight into his perception, but he gestured for you to sit in the lone chair across from his pragmatic desk. You did as you were asked, fitting yourself onto the small wooden chair, which left you painfully aware of the dull soreness in your hips.
“You’ve worked here for, how long now?”
“Just over two years, sir.”
“And you enjoy working here?”
“I do.”
“And you do good work.”
From the way he said it, you couldn’t exactly tell if it was supposed to be a question or a statement. “I’d like to think that I do.”
“No, it’s the truth, you do excellent work here.” His tone, while still formal, seemed to take on a lighter tone that allowed you to relax a bit.
“Thank you, sir.”
“As such, I have decided, probably to the dismay of some, that you’ll be taking over the vacant position, if you are up for it that is.”
“Really? Of course! I would be honored.”
“Don’t be so hasty, you are aware of what this position entails, correct? It will be more work and it will be far greater responsibility. You will be in charge of conducting your own research and presenting your findings.”
“Yes, I can absolutely do that, I’m more than excited to finally-”
“And you’ll be in charge of leading a team, you’ll be responsible for everyone you’re working with now, not just yourself, and that means you have to actually work with them.”
“I understand, I believe I can do that.”
“And, as I’m sure you well know, every so often you will have to give a lecture at one of the local universities so that you can give a demonstration of your work or any relevant topics the department may deem necessary. Our relationship with the university is one of great importance, so it is imperative that everything is conducted properly. This arrangement is absolutely crucial, do you understand?”
“I-I understand, sir.”
“Then good, I take it you accept?” His face softened to a cordial grin that nonetheless maintained a degree of professionalism.
“Absolutely!” You shook his hand just as vigorously as you had the day he offered you a job two years ago. Just as it had then, it almost jostled him from his desk.
A sense of elation crept over you, it was difficult to hide as you exited his office and walked back to your desk. How amazing life can be sometimes. And so it was set, you couldn’t help but feel an overwhelming sense of pride. All throughout your life your accomplishments always felt dwarfed by the status of your family. Good grades and high achievements were expected rather than praised. And your flagrant denial of the path that had been so eloquently carved for you by the generations that came before you left a bitter taste in the mouths of your relatives. After having been born an only child, you proved a glimmer of hope for the preservation of the legacy, and your rejection thereof was the discussion of much scrutiny. But at the moment, however, you felt alight with exultation in your own accomplishments. This was something that was wholly, and undeniably your own.
The rest of the day had hardly been more productive than the morning. Your head was even more far off than it was before as a whole slew of new possibilities appeared before you. When evening set in, you were more than ready to take your leave shamelessly early. You rushed home just as the sun had begun to set. Wisps of a scarlet sky poked through a shelf of clouds that now appeared golden with a smoldering opulence that reflected like a mirror off of the glittering water. Your good news seemed even more exciting now that you had someone to share it with.
Dio had been sitting casually on your couch, glancing out the window from behind his book every so often in readiness for your arrival. Making sure to welcome you at the door so as to properly commence your holiday break, assuring you that he intended to take full advantage of your newly found free time. The moment the door opened you jumped into his arms before he even had a chance to properly greet you, kissing him feverishly, trying to stammer out a word or two between the messy kisses you couldn’t help but bestow upon every inch of his exposed skin.
“I just have the best news!” Your shouting was rather unladylike, but you were far too excited to conduct yourself with even an ounce of decorum. “I got picked for a promotion at work! Me, out of everyone else there!”
“Of course they chose you, they would be foolish not to.” He eased you into his arms in an attempt to calm you down, ushering you gallantly inside as though he had never been anything other than a proper gentleman. “I think that we should celebrate, allow me to take you out for dinner.”
“That sounds lovely, but you already cooked. I would hate for all your hard work to go to waste, and besides, I’d rather spend the evening alone with you anyway. I’ve been feeling rather lucky today, especially after this morning. Maybe I’ll get lucky again?” Your devious smirk contradicted his earnest attempts at respectability.
He closed his eyes and feigned a cough, but you perceived the slightest tint of pink covering his face. “All the same, I would like to do something special for you, this is quite the achievement.”
You thought for a moment, waiting for a more wholesome idea to pop into your head. “Why don’t we go and get a bottle of wine? Something nice we can share over dinner.”
“Well, that sounds quite agreeable.” Dio crooned, trailing his arm slowly away from you as he turned to put on his coat.
You walked through the chilly streets feeling rather spellbound by the way he fastened you at his side; his hand never once letting go of yours. It seemed to you, an action that showed that he viewed you as something of great importance to him. Only once you were safely in the shop looking at the small selection of wine did his hold on you ease.
“What do you usually drink?” He asked, mindlessly glancing over the selection of bottles.
“Usually, whatever’s cheapest.” A cheeky laugh followed your confession in anticipation of Dio’s admonishments.
“That’s not a good policy, especially when it comes to wine.”
“Dio, when I was in college the girls in my dorm would all get together and we’d drink the cheapest rosé out of plastic cups and watch reruns of Gossip Girl. I’m not exactly a wine connoisseur, perhaps my dad would know better, my grandfather better still, but here I am, a lowly girl, adrift in a sea of Victorian wines," you said, half dreamily as you twirled about the store in a dramatic pirouette.
He rolled his eyes and pinched the bridge of his nose between his thumb and forefinger, partly vexed by your disagreeable explanation, but even more so by how he found your silly, childish ways so endearing. Though his careful pride could never let you know the extent to which you had charmed him, so he settled on a cloak of exasperation, after all this had been your suggestion, he had assumed you would have worthy input. “Red or white?”
“Hmm, red.”
“Excellent choice, I concur.” He flashed you a narrow grin as if you’d passed some test you had been unaware that he was giving you. He scanned over the selection and mumbled to himself in contemplation. “Something fruity but not too sweet, how about this one?”
You took the bottle from his hands, it seemed rather dark and pretty. “It looks fine to me,” you shrugged, not that you would’ve been able to tell a difference in sight alone, but you trusted in Dio’s good taste.
On the walk home, you felt a chill in the air and a breeze of snow flurries tickled your eyelashes. “Look, it’s snowing, isn’t it beautiful!” It hadn’t snowed much in all the time you’d lived here, but when it did, it always reminded you of home. “We used to get a lot of snow, where I’m from.” You sighed. Dio kissed you on the lips and spun you into his arms in a grand romantic gesture. “I really hope it snows.”
“Maybe it will,” he smiled quite sweetly as he led you back inside, “for you.”
Dio rummaged through your cupboards and retrieved two of your nicer wine glasses and a corkscrew and brought them to the table in preparation for dinner. He pulled out your chair and gestured for you to sit as he filled both glasses with the ruby liquid. “Now then, a toast, to my amazing woman and all of her brilliant accomplishments.” He leaned over the table and kissed your hand. “I am immensely privileged to call you mine.” The weight of his words clung to you in a kind of otherworldly comfort, you felt a heat rising in your face, his praises such as this were a rare delight, but always sincere. Your head began to feel a bit fuzzy, even before a single drop of wine had passed your lips.
After he clinked his glass against yours he took a sip and stirred it in his glass, he seemed to enjoy it. You brought the glass to your lips, it was drier than you’d expected, but a nice rich flavor with a pleasantly citrusy aftertaste, it was quite delicious.
“Would you care for another glass?” He asked, already pouring one for himself.
“Just a teeny-tiny bit more.” You indicated a small amount by the space created between your thumb and forefinger. He obliged your wishes and filled your glass with a bit more wine before setting the bottle aside.
The two of you shared dinner and stayed at the table chatting idly long into the evening, it felt so natural to share in each other's company like this.
“No, no, my dear, I’m serious, I used to play rugby in school.” He laughed more genuinely than you’d ever heard from him before.
“Shut up, no way!”
“Honest, and I was rather good at it.” That casual bravado pervaded his tone as he let his fingertips graze over your hand.
“I somehow can’t picture that, you seem so… academic. I see you more as the type to be holed in a gloomy library reading some esoteric Russian novel by firelight.”
“Who’s to say I didn’t do that as well? I am a man of many talents.” The touch of his fingers switched from romantic to sensual, daunting in the implication of each suggestive movement. The corners of his mouth turned upwards in full awareness of the impression he was making on you.
“Of that, I am well aware," you sighed, shaking your head slightly. “You certainly contain multitudes.” You drank the last sip of your wine and got up to clear the table, you brushed your hands over his shoulders as you moved across the floor, as if it were a silent command for him to follow you.
As you washed the dishes, you stared out the window to watch the snow falling quietly on the street outside, all the world around you seemed motionless. Everything seemed dusted in a sheet of glittering diamonds.
Dio came up behind you, his warm arms falling around your waist as he kissed the top of your head. “Have I ever told you how beautiful you are?”
“Hmm, maybe once or twice.”
He hummed and pulled you closer to him to kiss the back of your neck, leaving a soft flame burning over your skin. “Well, I believe you are the most beautiful woman I’ve ever seen.”
“I highly doubt that.” You chuckled, perhaps the wine had gone to your head and left you were lacking in all tact. “There are plenty of beautiful women all around, far more beautiful than I.”
He clicked his tongue and shook his head, letting his chin come to rest on your shoulder. “But no other could ever compare to you, my darling.” He pressed kisses into your neck, faintly at first but each one increasing in pressure. Maybe it was the wine, maybe his desire alone, but he was feeling rather sentimental. “There has never been a woman who captivates me in the way that you do. You are singularly unique and wholly dear to me.”
He drew you in for a lingering kiss that made your head swim. “I love you, Dio.”
“I fear that I may have been a tad impetuous with you this morning. I do not think I was properly able to afford your body all the veneration it deserves.” Though the way he spoke was overlain with sultry affectations, there was an undeniable sincerity to be gleaned from the words alone.
“Oh, Dio, not at all, this morning was incredible, you were incredible, and you made me feel incredible.”
One of his hands trailed down your waist and came to rest softly above your hip, the other offered a chivalrous gesture as he led you towards your bedroom.
“I wanted to show just how important you are to me, however, I do believe I was too rough and I’m afraid the experience may have seemed quite callow in my haste. But no matter, I intend to make it up to you all night, if you will allow me the privilege.”
You melted against the touch of his hand. "It would be my pleasure."
"I certainly intend for it to be."
Notes:
sorry for cockblocking :(
I promise the next one is coming soooooooncongrats to reader on her promotion, I certainly hope that I didn't do any foreshadowing here, hmmmmmmm, probably not.
I really wanted to make the wine they were drinking retsina because it sounds pretty and is referenced in a Steely Dan song, but apparently it tastes like turpentine, so basic red wine it is. My uncle is a huge wine guy so I tried to pick up on some of his lingo just for this.
Personally, I'm more of a Sex and the City girl than a Gossip Girl girl, but that one Thanksgiving scene lives in my head rent free.
Chapter 15: Till The Morning Comes
Notes:
I know it's only been a couple of days, but I couldn't help myself! This is more than 4k words of pure smut!! I have no self control!
CW: nsfw (obvs!) oral sex, vaginal sex, overstimulation, the works.
(See the end of the chapter for more notes.)
Chapter Text
Dio pressed the door shut with a soft, satisfying click and immediately the air in the room shifted to one of a heightened sensuality. His hands fell to your shoulders as he feathered soft, warm kisses that trailed down your neck with practiced grace. Each touch carried with it a level of certainty, he had about him a confidence that was so self-assured it was almost unbecoming. He was well aware of the tremendous skill he possessed as a lover. It was clear that each movement had been meticulously calculated as he slowly began to undo each button of your shirt.
You melted against the gentle touch of his hand, attempting to fall back onto the bed to urge him to continue, but any movement you thought to make was curtailed by his imposing stature. A devious purr escaped his lips as he watched your shirt fall open and hang loosely on your frame, immediately taking full advantage of your newly exposed skin. His breath was hot against your neck as he sucked lightly against the soft flesh. Your shirt fluttered effortlessly to the ground. Momentarily, he admired the delicate curves of your body before promptly peeling your camisole over your head to afford himself a better view. “So beautiful.” He crooned as he eased you onto the bed and caged you underneath his strong arms.
You could feel the warmth radiate off him as he leaned down to kiss you. Vehemently, you pushed up the hem of his sweater, leading him to pull it off completely. In the low light of the evening and at such a restrained pace, now free of this morning’s fervent haste, you were able to properly appreciate the finely sculpted musculature of his figure. From each ridge and curve of his broad shoulders to the definition etched into his svelte waist, every part of him was as near to perfect as humanly possible. Your hands roamed to his face, reveling in his beautiful attributes, now given finer context in the wake of your newly explored intimacy. The sharpness of his angled features, stark and daunting in their brilliance, evoked something vaguely Mannerist in likeness. He was unyieldingly gorgeous in a way that was anomalously both unconstrained, yet wholly refined. But it was always his eyes, keenly intense in the way he looked at you. Always leaving you with the impression that while you were caught in his gaze, you were the most important thing in the world, possibly the only thing. Such a stunning amber color that only felt richer when accompanied by his golden hair that hung loosely around his face like a halo. And yet, his eyes, though warm in tone, had been overlain with a somber air; darkened over the years of his tempestuous life. Ever contradictory, just like the whole of him. Tragic in a way that almost felt Shakespearean. “Dio, you’re beautiful.” The words danced airily off your lips, just shy of a moan as his skin made contact with yours.
Your body flushed as his hands roved over your skin, trailing listlessly down your waist. Every caress was slow and gentle. Agonizingly slow. By the time he’d made his way to the buttons of your pants, your ragged breathing was obvious. Slower still were his movements as he slid your pants down your legs. The fabric scratched hesitantly against your skin as you counted the shallow beats of your heart that echoed like thunder in your ears.
Once he reached your knees, you made a reckless attempt to kick your pants fully off. “So hasty tonight, do you already need me so badly?” He scolded you, but he allowed you to continue your display. He chuckled coolly and slipped his hand beneath your panties, spreading your folds with two skilled fingers. He clicked his tongue upon feeling how needy you were for him. “You are truly insatiable, you know? I fucked you this morning and here you are, already begging for more.” He pulled his hand away, causing you to groan in disappointment at the loss of contact. “There’s no need to rush.” He chided, one hand brushing over the reddened skin of your burning face. “I intend to take my time with you tonight.”
All you could muster in response was a discontented moan. His lips splayed into a soft smirk, he already knew just how badly you wanted him. He traced one finger along the wet spot on your panties just to reinforce to you that he knew how badly you wanted him. He looked over your body in silent admiration, the hungry look in his eyes assuring you that he was going to indulge in every aspect of you.
His attention then turned to the halo of garnet bruises on the underside of your thighs where his fingers had gripped that morning. faded and almost unnoticeable now, he may have indeed overlooked them had the events of that morning not been at the forefront of his mind for most of the day. “Perhaps I should have been more gentle.” His tone was sly but it contained a degree of sincerity. You were something he intended to keep, to cherish, not merely the spoils of a conquest for him to ravage.
“Not at all, it was amazing, I’m so tired of people thinking I’m fragile. You don’t have to be so delicate with me, I want every bit of you.”
“Then, it’s rather fortunate that you do not have to go to work anytime soon.” He then positioned himself between your legs and gently tugged at the hem of your panties, sliding them down so incredibly slowly that the mere thought of him touching you caused your back to arch against the mattress. You could hear the same cool chuckle as his warm breath tickled the skin of your inner thighs. The lace trim of your underwear dragged arduously against your skin, each sensation only building the tension that had begun to pull tightly in your core as you were finally rid of the garment. Dio took his time to appreciate how your pussy already glistened with your desire. The golden glint in his eyes twinkled mischievously in the subtle glow of the lamplight.
Pulling you fluidly by your hips, he slid you closer to him and buried his face between your legs.
“Dio-ah!” His tongue licked languidly over your sex, tailing over your folds and meandering aimlessly to your inner thighs. Maddeningly, his teeth sunk into the supple flesh, leaving behind a pattern of maroon indentations that he allowed his tongue to trace over carefully. A sharp yelp eked out of you but was quelled by the soothing pressure his tongue provided. “Dio, please, don’t make me wait!”
“So impatient.” He scoffed, but your audacity was rewarded as he returned his attention to your needy cunt.
The sensation was more than welcome, as a flame began to burn softly within you, filling your entire body with a pleasant warmth. Urgently your hips jerked against him, in search of greater stimulation, but he only used one of his large hands to steady you into place. You tangled your fingers in his hair to urge him closer to your aching clit, but to no avail, he remained steadfastly in place.
He then allowed his tongue to slowly venture between your folds, he teased your slick entrance and lapped at the sweetness that dripped so desperately off of you. As it had been before, the taste was intoxicating as it flooded his senses. Ramping up his own desires into a heady fervor. He rutted himself against the mattress to stave off his need as he indulged in you. Your soft, wispy moans filled his ears as you abandoned any attempt to stifle the noise.
The slow strokes of his tongue sent a chill down your spine “Dio, please, please, please! I need more!” You begged heedlessly, feeling as he reached up and grabbed the hand you’d placed in his hair and pulled it away, denying you the feeble sense of control you thought you had.
He looked up at you from between your legs, an enchantingly calculated grin on his face. “I already told you, I plan to take my time tonight, enjoying every bit of you.” With a smirk that could make the devil blush, he leaned back into the space between your thighs. “Be patient and let yourself enjoy this.” His tongue firmly licked the entire length of your cunt with one long measured stroke.
“Dio!” you screamed, your hips violently thrashed under the hold of his hand, his name fell from your lips repeatedly as you felt the knot in your core pull tighter and tighter. If your neighbors hadn’t heard you before, they most certainly had now. “Dio, please… I’m so close. Please, god, I want to cum!”
“Such a greedy little thing.” Though he chided you, he allowed two fingers to slip inside of you. Your head crashed against the pillows, pliantly accepting the additional sensations. He held you in his gaze, transfixed by every movement you made under his efforts. Satisfied with the desperation on your face, he finally released your hand and dipped his head back between your legs. Immediately your fingers cascaded through his hair, gripping roughly as he curled his fingers rhythmically inside of you. Finally, as if in acquiescence, he allowed his tongue to graze over your clit. Flicking lightly at the tender bud at first, but then endeavoring broad, ample strokes of his tongue as your breathy moans turned into desperate whines in response to his ministrations.
“Dio… oh… oh my god!” Your rapid breaths grew further uneven as the knot which had been pulled so tightly within you finally came undone. This time he allowed you to ride out your orgasm, slowing his motions in tandem with the frantic bucking of your hips.
Your eyes were half-lidded as you gazed down at him, met with the unmeasurable certainly that no one had ever made you feel like that before. Your entire body softened against the mattress, overcome with the glow of satisfaction. Slowly he removed his fingers from you, the sudden loss of touch causing you to shudder. He brought his fingers to your mouth, slipping them past your parted lips, allowing you to taste yourself. You accepted his digits, eagerly swirling your tongue over them to lick them clean. The sensation of you sucking at his skin startled him for a moment, causing an unintentional groan to fall from his lips.
He pulled his fingers from your lips with a slight pop and moved to return to his spot between your legs. “No, it's your turn.” A defiant smirk set across your face although your voice was still a bit haggard and weary.
Before he could say anything against it, you’d stepped off the bed and, using all the force you could muster, pushed him back into the spot you’d just abandoned on the bed. Still trying to catch your breath, you diligently undid the fly of his pants and slid them down past his thighs. You positioned yourself over him, leaning slightly over one of his legs as you pushed your hair back. “May I?” You asked, your voice rather chaste in juxtaposition of your current predicament.
“You may.” You gently grabbed the base of his shaft and gave him a few firm strokes, to which he responded with a generous groan. You guided him towards your mouth, keeping your eyes fixed on him all the while to monitor his reactions. You graciously pressed the tip of his cock against your tongue, savoring the piquant taste of his precum as you closed your lips around him. The suction from your mouth yielded a low hiss from the man above you who had not taken his eyes off of you for a moment. Stifling a gag, you began the formidable task of taking his ample length down your throat. Shallowly, Dio’s hips rocked into your mouth, pushing a little further down your throat each time. You had only managed so much when you felt him hitting the back of your throat, tiny beads of tears had already formed in the corners of your eyes from the strenuous endeavor.
Assuring yourself that you couldn't get any more of him down your throat, you pulled his cock from your mouth and slowly, but methodically stroked his entire length, spreading the ample lubricant left behind by your mouth over him. Satisfied, you once again took him in your mouth and used your free hand to compensate for what you couldn’t get down your throat. A croaky gasp caught in his throat in acceptance of the new stimulation. With perhaps a greater force than he intended, he laced his fingers into your hair and, in firmly grabbing a handful, he picked a speed that was optimal for him.
The pace he set was rough, it took tremendous effort to keep focus amidst the dizzying feeling of him fucking your throat, but the uninhibited groans which poured from his lips, louder and needier every time you diligently bobbed your head was more than worth any temporary struggle. His hips began to writhe with an erratic, rhythmless ferocity. He hated to admit it, he really hated to admit it, but he was losing it.
You looked up at him from between his legs and instantly met his intense gaze; not once had he taken his eyes off of you since you began. His breathing was heavy and ragged. The ends of his hair were tinged with sweat; he was almost shaking. He made an attempt to push your head back down so as to keep you from looking at him in such an undignified state, but your eyes remained firmly locked on his. It was taking an enormous amount of effort to hold himself together, and from the way you looked at him, he could tell that you knew. The way your effervescent eyes met his in the same sparkling endearment he’d come to find so much comfort in; it was too much. He hadn’t expected you to be that good at this, how had your pretty little mouth so quickly reduced him to such a desperate state? Every sensation rushed him towards the inevitability of orgasm. “Shit.” He groaned in an attempt to restrain his vocalizations which he had become far too free with.
Your attention turned solely to the swollen head of his cock, sucking with enough pressure that all previous inhibitions were thrown from him until only the insatiable need remained. A mix of brutish grunts and airy gasps escaped him as he slammed his arm over his forehead, breaking eye contact for the first time the entire evening. “I’m… fuck—” he gritted his teeth, his hips bucking wildly against you. “I’m going to—”
“Cum for me, Dio.” Your voice was light and sweet, somehow angelic despite the way your lips instantly wrapped around him again. He took that as all the consent he needed to flood your mouth with his cum. Amid his haggard panting, he moaned your name along with several utterances of praise for your efforts.
He groaned upon feeling you slide your mouth off of him, watching intently as you slowly pulled back, careful not to spill a single drop in any of your movements. You made quite a show of swallowing everything in your mouth, breathlessly sticking your tongue out as if to verify what you’d done. His usually sharp, narrow eyes widened at the sight, he caged his arms around you and cemented your body against this chest. He had adored every second of your little display. It might've been the sexiest thing he’d ever been allowed to witness. He fluttered messy kisses along the crown of your head, mussing your hair in the process. “That was beautiful, that was…” he panted indecorously, holding you so tightly that you couldn’t even squirm out of his grasp if you’d wanted to.
“I love you.” You said, as though it was a reassurance, placing several kisses along his collarbone, the only part of him you could reach in your current position. You held a great deal of pride in feeling the shaky rhythm of his labored breathing, each stuttered breath seemed to lull you into a state of relaxation. After what felt like a momentary eternity, his grip loosened and he pulled you in gingerly for a long, slow kiss. The devotion that was held within each movement felt wholly sacred. It was an unconditional comfort that enveloped you as his hands softly traced over your body in an act of reverence.
After a contented sigh, you moved to get up from bed in an attempt to get ready for the night. “And where do you think you’re going?” He asked with a truly wicked look on his face, even before you could answer he was pulling you back into bed. “What part of all night did you not understand?”
In a swift motion Dio pulled you back to your rightful place in his lap. You pressed most of your weight onto him as you leaned your back against his chest, feeling as though you were floating above the rest of the world as you leaned into every touch. Dio shifted slightly to garner support from the pillows as he pried your legs open. You gasped as his fingers ghosted over your tender cunt. Your back arched and your head crashed against his shoulder. A wily snicker vibrated against your ear before he endeavored to sink his teeth into the delicate skin of the crook of your neck. You let out a raspy moan, your voice still stifled from having so much of his cock down your throat. The pressure built to a stinging pain, but was never enough to break skin. Still latched to your neck, one hand cupped your breast with a zealous playfulness as he pinched your sensitive nipple between his thumb and forefinger. “Oh, Dio!” You squealed in response, drowning in the waves of overstimulation as his other hand grazed over your thigh at the same unhurried pace.
A jolt of electricity surged through your body when you felt his tongue drag across the craggy ridges left behind by his teeth. He purred in satisfaction upon seeing your reaction. His fingers crawled along the slope off your inner thigh, seemingly growing slower as he inched closer to your cunt. The ambling pace was torturous enough, but with your entire body tender from the intensity of your orgasm, each minute touch was amplified immensely. Your body jittered in his grasp, but he only locked an arm firmly around your waist to keep you still. Dio’s lips once again made their way to your neck where he began to suck several more marks into your flesh. Just as the sensation left you breathless, you felt as his fingers dipped inside of you. Slow, but precise in his movements, he coated his fingers in the arousal remaining from his previous efforts, rhythmically sliding along the entire length of your sex, brushing ever so slightly against your clit. The feeling was damn near overwhelming, you made an attempt to clamp your legs shut for a reprieve from the intensity of his touch.
Dio clicked his tongue and hoisted one of your legs to your chest to offer himself easier access. “Dio, please… so-so-so sensitive!” You squealed helplessly.
“Just relax, my darling. I am going to make you cum for me again.” He lightly pressed his finger to your clit and began drawing lazy circles.
“I-I don’t know if I can!” You whined, disoriented from the continuous stimulation.
“You will.” It was a command and not a suggestion, as he had ordained it to be, so it would be.
You nodded, attempting to steady yourself, but each little touch made you feel as though you were being short-circuited from within.
Your breathing was labored, and your eyes, half-lidded and watery as his touches grew more direct. Every thought that entered your mind was fuzzy and frantic. You lolled your head onto Dio’s chest as he whispered sweet nothings into your ear and coyly nipped at your earlobe as he kneaded the supple flesh of your thigh. “Oh…” Overstimulation lapsed into pleasure once again as you felt your orgasm building deep within your stomach. You were ultimately unable to control the volume of your uninhibited moans. You reached your arm up and grabbed a handful of his hair in the need for more of a connection with him. Everything was so sensitive, you felt like you were seeing stars, and each little movement of your hips, no matter how seemingly insignificant, only seemed to allow him to press his skillful digits more vehemently against you.
“Cum for me, my dear.” Dio crooned, the saccharine tone of his voice was enough to send you to the edge. Violently, you pulled at his hair, so desperate for the release he’s been pushing you towards. A silky moan left his lips in response as he obliged your desires.
“Oh fuck! Dio!” Your toes curled as a brilliant heat spread throughout your entire body like wildfire as you came. Your entire face was glazed over with lust and satisfaction as you all but collapsed in his arms.
“Good girl.” He praised, rewarding you with several kisses as he laid you on your back.
In the intensity of your second orgasm, you had neglected to notice his erection pressing into your back. Now as he leaned over you, you could see exactly what awaited you as he pressed the tip at your entrance. “This is what you've been waiting for, is it not?” He asked in that devilish, honey-coated tone. Eyes brimming with anticipation as he inched closer to you.
Looking at him like that, every one of his elegant features enhanced by proximity and the way he looked at you so eagerly, you forgot your weariness altogether and were suddenly overwrought with the violent desire to have him inside you again. “Yes! Dio, please, I need you to fuck me.”
His eyes narrowed as sharp as daggers, the devious purr that escaped him boarded on malevolent as one hand travelled over your breast. “Such a dirty mouth.” With a precise snap of his hips, he buried himself inside of you. “It’s stunning.”
Your back arched, your nails dug into his upper arms as you tried to adjust to the way his cock spread you. “Dio-fuck.”
“You’re taking me so well.” He crooned, tenderly kissing the space between your eyes. The touch of his lips seemed to set you ablaze. Your chest heaved in rhythm with each of his slow, direct thrusts. Each movement was controlled, as though carefully orchestrated. He wanted you to feel everything, he wanted to make damn sure you never forgot how it felt. Each movement served to reinforce that you were undoubtedly his.
You, in all your impudent, unruly perfection, every scrap of you now belonged to him.
And he wanted to have you in a way that no one else ever had. He wanted to memorize every detail of your body, the softness of your skin, the outline of your lips, the blush on your cheeks, every freckle, every dimple, every angle and curve of your body; he wanted to know it all so he could paint an exact picture of you in his mind just so he could remember you any time he wanted to.
“Look at how perfect your body is for me.” He thrust deeply into you, carefully studying your reactions, careful to memorize those as well. Your eyes rolled back, a glassy look of pure bliss, as though you’d never been so wholly satisfied. “Has anyone ever made you feel this good?”
“Never, only you Dio!”
“As I thought. And only I am allowed to.”
“Of course…only you…no one else.”
It was true, your bodies seemed to fit perfectly with one another. Despite his unforgiving size, you were certain nothing had ever felt better. The pace that he set though direct, seemed gentle to you. In fact, the whole scene felt unexpectedly romantic in the way he kissed your heated face and whispered sweet praises into your ear. His slow thrusts and sweet words caused that familiar knot in your core to tighten once again. This reserved pace somehow made your body even more tender than his rougher one from this morning.
“Oh!” Your shrill moans rose above another noise in the room as your back arched, your body meeting his as he unrelentingly pressed deeper into you, relishing in the way he finally bottomed out inside of you. He peppered sweet kisses all over your shoulders as he fucked into you, his hands wandering all over your body, always gentle and precise. The feeling overwhelmed you again, your walls clamped tight around him as you grew closer to the inevitably of another orgasm. “Dio-oh my god!” Your entire body felt hot, your head nearly delirious with pleasure. You clung tightly to him, it was the only thing your weary body could do as he drove into you besides mewl in satisfaction.
“Enjoying yourself?”
“Uh-huh...”
“I can tell.”
You panted his name over and over again, as though it were a prayer, though the volume was almost inaudible in your tired state. How long he’d been inside you, you could not tell. Minutes, hours? The concept of time itself became meaningless. Dio kept you on edge, constantly ebbing another orgasm, but never allowing the sensation to overtake you. The way he had learned your body so quickly left you in disbelief.
You felt him softly growl against your neck, pulled from the haze of exhaustion by the sudden irregularity in his thrusts. Hurrying for the first time the entire night. Through gritted teeth, his husky voice whispered in your ear, “I’m going to cum inside of you, I want you to cum as well.”
Fuck, you were so fucking close, but the torturously slow pace he’d set had kept you riding a narrow edge that only made you more desperate for release. “Dio… please… more… so… close… need… more!”
“More? So fucking greedy!” He hissed indignantly, but he loved seeing you beg. If he had it in him, he would’ve tortured you all through the morning with that same agonizing pace until you were so far beyond fucked out that you wouldn’t even be able to stand for the rest of the day, but he felt the pressure of his own release mounting. He wanted you to, no, he needed you to cum once more before he allowed himself to finish. He peeled himself off of you, just enough to create enough space between your two bodies to allow a dexterous finger to find your clit again. “Is this what you wanted?”
“Ah-yes!” You screamed as the shocking sensation managed to overwhelm you, your vision went blurry as he continued to rub tight, rapid circles over your clit with an unwavering directness. You grabbed at his shoulders for stability, the tension in your core pulled to a tight knot, threatening to snap with each passing movement. You gazed at him, his eyes aglow with determination, his skin tinged with sweat after such a continuous exertion. “Dio… so good!” Too tired to writhe or thrash, you merely collapsed pliantly to the mattress below as your orgasm crashed over you with a tidal wave of pleasure that left your body feeling aglow.
“Perfect,” he sighed, his own release was right behind yours; with a sharp gasp, he filled your fucked out cunt. “Satisfied, my little darling?” He asked with a groan as he withdrew himself from you, your body too exhausted to react with anything other than a slurred, incoherent string of noise which he took as affirmation.
He drew your malleable body into his protective arms, relishing in the way your head crashed onto his chest immediately as your eyes fluttered to keep from falling asleep. A blanket was draped loosely over your naked frames, enveloped in comfort, every ounce of energy you had was spent. Outside, you were faintly perceptive of the sound of winter birds chirping merrily to welcome the onset of dawn as sleep finally took hold of you.
Notes:
I know I will not be seeing the kingdom of heaven after this :)
I wonder if my high school art history teacher would be proud that I still remember so much from his class that I can use it in my smut fic? No, I will never stop likening Dio to fine art!
**Don't worry guys, reader is not going to get pregnant or anything. Unwanted pregnancy trope isn't particularly my cup of tea in general, I have seen it done well, but being that my experience on the matter is exactly zero, I doubt I could write it convincingly even if I wanted to. She's got her career and Dio is in the process of healing, they don't need to be adding a baby to the mix lol, but this is my sandbox and that means we get to play by my rules!!
practice safe sex irl tho! lord knows Dio does not.
Chapter 16: Countdown to Ecstasy
Chapter Text
The afternoon light tickled your eyes, blurry and heavy with sleep. What a night. Your body was almost unwilling to move from the warm comforts provided by your welcoming bed and the strong cage of Dio’s arms which had been draped lazily around you like a blanket the entire time you’d been asleep. You gazed down at your naked body, the remnants of Dio’s affections were still all over you in the form of various bite marks and hickeys that radiated warmth and in the ghostly ache in your pelvis from having been spread over him for so long. You stretched and let out a contented sigh that faded to a groan as you felt his erection pressing against you as he slept. “He calls me insatiable, he’s insatiable!” You said out loud with a playful pout as you made a move to get out of bed.
“Am I, now?” Dio purred, a sardonic timbre to his voice as his arms curled tightly around you and pulled you back against him so that he could greet you with a long overdue kiss.
You reached your hand between his legs and palmed your hand over him. You felt his cock pulse in your hand in a needy response, his breath hitched; a reaction he considered a bit inapt for himself. Just one night had not been enough to quell a month’s worth of unmet desires. “I would say so.”
“Perhaps I am, but after last night, you can’t expect me to believe that you are anything less.”
“Well, maybe you are right.” A wily smile spread across your face as you wriggled out of his grasp once again.
“Hmm, and where are you running off to now?” He cast you a quizzical expression as he pushed back the covers to offer you an uninterrupted view of him. It served to show you how ready he was for you, everything you could expect for the day ahead of you. One night had simply not been enough.
“Shower.”
“Now that is a marvelous idea.” He smirked, pulling himself out of bed and meeting you at the edge of the doorway. His arm snaked around your waist as if assuring you he was completely in control; your body fully at his command.
“That wasn’t an invitation!”
“Oh, but my darling, it was.”
…
The water was cold and unforgiving, but not nearly as unforgiving as the cold tile your back had been pressed against as Dio fucked into you. Your body splayed against the wall as you clung to him for dear life. You still hadn’t recovered from the night before, everything was unbelievably tender, every touch like fire to juxtapose the gnawing cold. You felt the familiar electric shocks shoot through you as he dug his nails into the supple flesh of your ass. “Wrap your legs around me.” He instructed, tightening his grip as you did so, he pressed you more firmly against the wall.
Assured that you were secured to him, he began to trail one hand along the curve of your hip, dipping between your legs in the meager space that remained between your two bodies. He pressed his thumb firmly against your clit, gliding an array of patterns over the sensitive bud which caused your hips to thrash against his. His only response was to tighten the already vice-like grip with the one arm that precariously held you. “Oh, Dio… I’m so… ah!” The sensation against your flushed skin only amplified the intensity of each movement. Your nails tried to claw at his shoulders, but only ended up feebly slipping against the droplets of water
“Hmph, and you said I was insatiable, but look at how pathetic you look writhing in my arms. It’s so terribly easy to work you up to this state.” Your response came out as a series of shrill moans, begging him for more. “How many times did I make you cum last night?”
“Th-three,” you choked out, just barely audible over the sounds of the water and the wet skin of his thighs slapping against yours.
“Ahh, so you do remember.” He leaned you deeper onto him, shuddering as he bottomed out. He never failed to moan at the way your walls tightened so perfectly around his cock. He steadied himself by sucking one of the bruises he’d left the night before, the oblong maroon mark twinged with a dull pain that he lessened with a plush kiss. “But, really, how could you forget?”
Erratic, breathy gasps escaped you as you were brought to the edge alarmingly fast. Each of his thrusts became more forceful than the last, you were certain you’d never been so thoroughly spread before, this position, more unforgiving than any of the previous, proved just shy of too much as you rolled your hips to meet his with ardor as you raced towards your own pleasure. “And how many times am I going to make you cum today?”
“Dio, I’m— fuck!”
“That’s once.”
You crumpled against him, threatening to fall from his arms, too weak to support yourself after cumming. “I haven’t finished yet.” He scolded, using his other hand to support you once again while he mercilessly pounded into you with a boorish level of strength you wouldn’t have thought possible after all the energy he’d expended the previous night. He eyed you with a hungry look, as though at that moment you were indeed something for him to absolutely ravage. Your hands found their way into his hair, you combed through the messy strands that hung damp at his shoulders before grabbing a handful and tugging on it in an attempt to keep yourself grounded.
He hadn’t allowed you a single moment to recover from your orgasm before pursuing his own. He gave a soft grunt as you pulled his hair, a devilish smirk etched across his face as he picked up the pace. With a brutish grunt, he slammed you firmly against the cold tile wall before cumming into you.
His grip loosened and he lowered you to your feet with a curious softness that was almost jarring after his previous roughness. Your body was overcome with weakness, left unable to hold yourself up you felt yourself begin to slip to the floor. Dio’s muscular arm snaked its way underneath your chest in an offering of support. You leaned your back against his chest feeling as though you’d melt into him had the water not been so cold.
You felt his free hand trail heavily all over your body to remind him of the feeling of your soft curves. The shower filled with the sweet smell of vanilla as Dio gently lathered both of your bodies with soap. The tenderness of the action juxtaposed the curtness of the sex. You relaxed even further, as though the water was wholly purifying. Everything about that moment felt entirely perfect. “Dio…” you began, breaking the silence and turning to stare into his glassy amber eyes.
“Yes?”
“I’m so happy you stayed… with me.”
He gently brought your hand to his lips and kissed it with the same tenderness as someone might handle a new blossom on a flowering tree. “For you.”
…
You managed to scrounge something up for breakfast, only enough to fulfill the physical need for nourishment, which, once satisfied, gave way to a more pressing need. Tangled once again in the sheets, the meager clothes you’d deemed a necessity for the table had been heedlessly discarded about the floor in haste to satisfy the overwhelming desire you both had been so longing to indulge in. No, one night had certainly not been enough.
Dio’s expert fingers dipped between your legs, he knew exactly where to touch you to elicit the sweetest reactions from you. He drew lazy, indirect patterns over your clit, knowing the limited sensation served to ramp up your desire. With caution thrown to the wind, your body squirmed vehemently against him as he bestowed upon you a smattering of warm kisses that made your head go fuzzy.
Dio instructed you onto all fours, he leaned you down and spread your legs enough so that he could align himself with your core. “Quite a magnificent view.” He growled as he began to sink into you. Another deeply unforgiving angle that teetered on the edge of being too much. Your back arched as the tingly feeling of him spreading you took hold, but it only made it easier for him to fuck you even deeper.
“Dio!”
“Yes, dear?”
“Dio-!”
“Oh, has my little lady forgotten how to speak?”
“Dio…!”
Each time his name dripped so lustfully from your lips, he responded with an increasingly firm snap of his hips. A large hand crawled blindly to your clit, the languid, gentle touches you’d been awarded earlier had been abandoned in favor of keenly precise circles that never strayed from their mark. Your hips swayed to meet his in a syncopated rhythm. Your head buzzed from the simultaneous sensations. Your hands blindly groped for your sheets, clenching generous handfuls of fabric in your fists as you rode out the overwhelming sensation. “Oh my god!”
He could feel the way you tightened around him, a sign he had come to know well as indicative of your impending orgasm. His free hand gripped tightly to your ass as if to pull you back to meet him, but any movement of his fingers remained sharply exact, not wavering in directness for even a moment as you came. “Two.” He purred as he leaned over and hooked his arm around your waist. In a fluid motion he pulled you up off your hands so you sat back only on your knees. This position offered him a much deeper angle as he drove into you with an unforgiving accuracy. You screamed his name, his strong arm the only thing preventing you from falling forward on your face as what little inhibition you may have had left was cast out into oblivion.
Now wild in the pace he set as his own pleasure in came into view, he cemented you in place to allow himself all the control over your body that he desired, leaving you with no choice but to feel every inch of him. Messy, scorching kisses were placed along your shoulders in increasing urgency. Each one resulting in another strained moan from you. Oh, how he loved to hear it. Every noise you made whilst in the throes of pleasure was pure ecstasy for him. His hips sputtered with an indiscriminate irregularity, you could tell that he too was approaching his assured orgasm. He pulled you flush against him, nearly knocking you off your unsteady legs in the process. You felt his cock twitching inside you as he hissed several profanities against your skin as the warmth of his cum filled your core.
Panting breathlessly, he pulled you back into the pillows, your bodies still briefly connected until you rolled off of him to climb properly into his arms. He looked at you with a half-drunk gaze as he twisted the ends of your hair between his fingers. Without a word, he pressed one tiny kiss onto your lips and pulled you tightly to his chest. Finally, you were able to indulge in a much needed moment of respite.
…
The contents of your living room coffee table were spread shamelessly across your floor as Dio’s tongue lapped at your dripping cunt. “That’s three.” He growled, ever unrelenting in his conquest.
Your hips bucked violently against his face, your body had been left so sensitive that you could do little to control your wild motions. “Dio…it’s too much…please fuck me instead!”
He glared up at you as if irritated by your impatience. “Oh, I intend to, once I’ve had enough of this, I’ll fuck you until your heart’s content.” A sparkle of devious pride glimmered in his eyes as he returned to his task. Dio had surmised that you being from the 21st century gleaned you more experience than he anticipated, more than what was typical of his previous partners, at least. You did not seem particularly surprised by anything that he did and you certainly had a preexisting knowledge of the particular things you liked and you were not ashamed of asking in the way 19th century morality may have dictated you ought to be. Not that it mattered. Perhaps it even made things more interesting. Getting to watch a woman who grew up with liberal expectations regarding sex be so easily undone by his skills had been more pleasurable than he could've imagined and only served to further stroke his ego. The soft cries that helplessly escaped you while you enjoyed the efforts of his mouth were more than fair compensation for any unintended jealousy that ebbed in the back of his mind. Not that it mattered.
Your mind went blank as his pace quickened, relentlessly he lapped up every drop of you until you went mad. “Dio-ah! Dio…!”
“Four?” He posed it as a question, but it was more of a demand. He pressed one last firm lick against you, causing your entire body to shudder. “Or perhaps five?” Sinking down into you immediately, this time not he did not give you a moment to adjust to his size before he began. “I intend to have you on every surface in this house, so that way you are unable to walk into any room without remembering some previous intimate moment between us. I want you to shamefully invite guests in, flushed with embarrassment knowing that while you’re making idle conversation you’re in the same place where I’ve had your body writhing in ecstasy.” He taunted, pressing deeper into you with each thrust, he was hitting that exact spot that drove you absolutely insane.
Your body already recognized the feeling and your back arched instinctively in anticipation of the pleasure to come, you bit down on his shoulder in an attempt to pull yourself into reality, but you’d already been overcome by the heavenly feeling of his firm, measured thrusts into you. Recklessly, his name spilled from your lips between lustful moans as your toes curled tightly. The familiar jolts of electricity prickled your skin throughout your body. Your neck craned against the wood of your coffee table, it should have been uncomfortable, but any feeling that was not the tingling pleasure of orgasm had long left your body. ‘Four? Five?’ It didn’t matter anymore. Nothing outside the walls of your flat seemed to matter anymore. Here, you felt nothing but the boundless joy of being tangled with the man you’d come to treasure as something both enigmatic and beautiful. In the short month in which you’d known Dio, he’d altered every aspect of your life. From the moment you collided with him, you’d felt drawn to him as if by the force of gravity or the opposite ends of a magnet. He had etched his name into more than just your bedpost, but also your home and your heart. So effortlessly he had made a space that only he could fill; you knew in that moment that you’d never be able to feel anything akin to the way you feel for Dio for anyone else.
You were jolted from your thoughts by the feeling of his hips smashing against yours with an unsynchronized urgency. Familiar profane grunts filled the room as the ebbing wave of pleasure began to overtake him. Your name and other endearments floated from his mouth in a way that felt chaste compared to the expletives that preceded. As it always did, warmth ran through you as he finished. It never failed to make you feel lighter, knowing that you were able to bring him to the same state of bliss that he brought you to.
“Darling, I’m afraid we’ve lost count.” Sardonically sweet in his inflection as he kissed along the curve of your neck. Your hands curled into his hair but all you could do in response was laugh, heartily and earnestly, until dots of tears formed in your eyes.
…
By the end of the day, you had indeed lost count, you were groggy and damn near babbling in his arms with his shirt draped loosely around your shoulders like a cape as he walked you from the bedroom to the kitchen. “You need to eat something, you’ll need your strength for tomorrow”
“T-t-tomorrow?” Your head reeled at the thought of what he could possibly have in store after today.
“Yes, tomorrow. You had said that you wanted to decorate for Christmas, but I took the liberty of going through your things and found that you don’t actually have anything. So, tomorrow we will go to town and procure some supplies.” You sighed in relief, you weren’t sure if your body could handle another day like this one had been, even the touch of his hands on your waist as he helped you into your chair at the table left you with a lingering soreness. “Why, did you perhaps have something else in mind?”
His piercing gaze ran through you as if beckoning you to formally recount the day’s events and acknowledge his undeniable proficiency as a lover. His hands ran over your shoulders as if trying to jostle the flimsy barrier between his hands and your body. You shuddered, at first from the graceful contact, but then from a drafty chill of winter air. Lazily, you slid your arms through the sleeves in search of additional warmth. In the haze of the day’s distractions, you’d only just then realized that snow had been falling all throughout the day.
Your eyes lit up with merry wonderment when you saw the untouched carpet of glistening snow that covered the walk outside your flat. “Dio, look at how pretty the snow is! Isn’t this exciting?” You cooed as you rushed to the living room window and threw open the curtains to get a better look at the beautiful scenery.
“It certainly is exciting.”
“Are you mocking— Hey, what are you doing?” Dio stood behind you and pulled your shirt closed enough to cover your exposed body.
“You may want to be careful, my dear.” In sudden realization, your face flushed a deep red as you hastily did the buttons. Dio silently admired how you looked; his large shirt hanging loosely on your much smaller frame. He ran his hand along the hem of the fabric that left enough of your thigh visible to still vaguely entice him. “Now, I may not mind if someone were to see the delectable state I’ve rendered you to, but perhaps you do.”
“I find it hard to believe you’d allow anyone the privilege of seeing me so scantily clad.”
“So long as they know you’re mine, they are free to look as they like.”
“How interesting, because certainly would not allow another access to the magnificent sights that I am privy to.” You snickered, turning to drag your hands along the defined muscles of his upper arms.
“Oh, you would deny the rest of the world such a luxury?”
“Gladly.”
“My dear girl, I’m not sure you’re the one who makes the rules.”
“Hm, last time I checked we were in my house.”
“How feisty.” He hissed, letting his hands fall firmly to your hips and leaning over to steal a kiss. “How odd, I like you just as much when you’re fiery as when you’re compliant.”
“How very kind of you.” You said as you rolled your eyes and leaned in for another kiss.
“Certainly, so kind in fact that perhaps I should show everyone just how terribly fond of you I am.” He brushed his hips against yours, the fabric of his pants pulling your shirt up just enough to motivate him.
You slipped from his grasp and turned to quickly shut the curtains, subconsciously aware of how many windows there were in your home. “I’m sure all the neighbors are already well aware of just how fond of me you are.”
“That’s because someone doesn’t know how to keep her voice down.”
“That’s because someone doesn’t know how to keep his hands to himself!”
“And why would I want to do that?” He chuckled softly and pulled you back into his arms, this time dotting sweet kisses all over your forehead. Perhaps not purposefully, his hips rolled into yours. You could feel his cock twitch during the brief moment of contact. “You wonder why I am unable to keep my hands off of you but look at the despicable things you do to me.”
Though brash, something in his words felt rather sweet. Lightly, you rocked against him, the gentle way he caressed you left you emboldened. “I could… take care of you. If you want, just you this time.”
He thought for a moment, half the fun was watching your body shake with pleasure as you screamed for him, but your mouth had yielded such satisfying results the night before that he couldn’t deny he wanted to feel it again. He sat down on the couch, shamelessly undoing his pants to reveal that he was fully erect. “It’s all yours.”
Immediately you got to work, coating his entire length with saliva to stroke him in tandem as you took as much of him as you could into your mouth. His suppositions had been correct, it felt just as good as the previous night, perhaps better. This angle allowed you more leverage, every stroke was incredibly controlled. He glided his fingers into your hair, feeling as your head bobbed against his palm. Heavy breaths escaped his chest, exasperated from the considerable task of keeping his reactions at bay, even if only momentarily to allow himself more time to enjoy you in this way.
This act in particular he felt was akin to worship. It was an immense privilege you offered him, indeed. Such a stunning creature you seemed, there, between his legs, entirely his, it was overwhelming; he couldn’t stop his hips from bucking. You gave a slight cough and tapped his leg as if to signal that it was too much. With a tremendous amount of restraint he wouldn’t have thought himself capable of, he stilled his hips and allowed you to return to your own pace.
You dragged your tongue along the head of his cock, returning to the spots that had given you the best reactions yesterday as you continued generously stroking him. Your efforts were rewarded in an instant as his groans wildly filled the room. Each utterance of your name seemed needier than the last. You sucked firmly at the tip and looked up at him with a sweet, almost innocent expression on your face.
The moment your eyes met his, he was overcome with the same apprehension of allowing you to see him so lacking in control. He couldn’t believe you were able to put him in such a state, and so easily at that.
He growled boorishly as he shoved your head down as far as you could possibly take it before cumming down your willing throat, he watched with a half-lidded gaze as you eagerly swallowed every drop of him. His head fell against the back of the couch, utterly satisfied. For the first time as far as he could remember, he was completely spent. “Thank you.” He murmured, a bit uncertain as the words tumbled out of his mouth.
“So polite.” You teased while you pulled yourself off your knees and gave him a kiss on the cheek. “I love you.”
He pulled you onto his lap and into a deep kiss. You were certain he could taste his own release as his tongue ran against yours, but you accepted any and all gratitude he was willing to give you. But he soon stopped, instead letting his forehead rest against yours in a silent affection.
“Dinner, now.” He snapped his fingers as though he were scolding you. As if he were irritated that you had distracted him from the task, but you couldn’t help how his body reacted to yours.
Notes:
The lack of self control is astonishing.
showers in the 19th century were definitely not ideal for fucking, but y'know what...shhhhhhhh I wanted to write it.I promise the next chapter will have plot in it and I hope I'll be able to get it out soon. I've unfortunately gotten busy as of late; it's actually a miracle I was able to get this chapter out and ready this week. My dad is having surgery tomorrow (it's very minor and should be no big deal, but I can make myself worry about anything), so I'm going to be watching my parents' pet velociraptor (dalmatian puppy) and she is a handful and a half. So the coming couple of weeks are going to be just as busy too.
I really really wanted to get the Christmas chapter out by July 25th as a cute little Christmas in July thing, but given that it's currently July 18th and that is chapter 20, I think that's a bit of a pipe dream, unfortunately. I have through chapter 21 edited into proper narrative form, but I still like to go over and edit to make sure I'm happy with the wording and such and I also like to have a few chapters backlogged for my sanity in case I get too buys to write new stuff; currently I'm writing chapter 37 and it's very long so I'm trying to parse it down in a way that still flows nicely but isn't like 10k+ words. Plus, I don't want to overwhelm you guys with too many chapters too quickly, I know you've all got busy lives outside the internet as well, so we'll most likely be celebrating Christmas in August this year.
So for now, please enjoy more Dio smut :D
Chapter 17: The Ties That Bind
Notes:
Back to our regularly scheduled plot with another Jonathan-centric chapter for you all.
If it's not clear, this is taking place on the same day as the previous chapter (which is 12/22/1888 if anyone wants to keep real world time, I will probably try to mark it for important events so the timeline doesn't get too muddled).
(See the end of the chapter for more notes.)
Chapter Text
The heavy front door to the Joestar mansion closed with a rattling bang. “JoJo, there is a package for you in the foyer.” The genial voice of George Joestar beamed as he shook off the cold.
“Father, what are you doing out? You need to rest so that you can recover your strength! I am more than capable of accomplishing any errand you may have.” Jonathan cried in a worried voice, leaning over the railing as he watched his father carefully remove a thick woolen scarf. With tremendous haste, he descended the stairs and rushed to offer his father any assistance.
“Nonsense, I’m feeling stronger than ever. Besides, JoJo, the doctors have told me I’m well enough to go back to my normal routine.” George smiled goodnaturedly, in the way that made the lines of his eyes crinkle ever so softly, it was an expression that always suggested tremendous warmth, yet there was a stately sorrow held deep within his noble features.
“All the same Father, you cannot overdo yourself. After what you went through… do you still mean to have the party?”
“I do indeed. Many of the arrangements had been made months ago, it would be a shame to cancel with so little notice, and the funds serve the community well. It would be quite a shame for anyone to go without this Christmas because of my own selfishness. And as I have been feeling so well, I do believe it would be good for me to have something to focus on.” He smiled again as he shuffled out of his coat. Jonathan sighed, in spite of the reassurances otherwise, he had picked up on a lingering trace of weakness behind his father’s voice.
“If that is what you wish, Father, I will assist you in any way that I can.”
“Thank you, JoJo, just your attendance will be enough; and do tell your friends they are welcome to attend as well.”
“Thank you, Father, I’m sure they would gladly accept.”
The two men stood in the foyer in silence. A palpable tension had grown between them. George stared at the ground, one hand wrinkling the fabric of his coat as if to keep busy. “JoJo,” his voice fell to a dreadful whisper, “has there been any word of Dio as of late?”
Jonathan exhaled sharply, as if in disgust. “No Father, he seems to have all but vanished into thin air, such a cowardly thing to do.” Jonathan recoiled at his father’s mention of the name. Dio had played havoc upon him throughout his entire childhood and the memory of how their bond had been broken on served only to further the distaste he had for his once brother.
“That is concerning news indeed, wherever he is, I hope he’s at least alright.” George muttered, shaking his head solemnly. The loss continued to gnaw at his heart. In less fair moments, when no one else was around, he felt the cracks in his noble disposition. It was a sadness he had not felt since the loss of his wife twenty years prior. A hurt that he never seemed to be without. A constant, nagging despair that weighed him down and made him feel sluggish. He had insisted on the party if only to take his mind off the insurmountable loss that plagued him.
“Father, you can’t possibly say that you’d be willing to forgive him for what he’s done… after he…” The expression that settled upon his father’s face gave him pause. Without saying as much, Jonathan knew that in his heart, his father had already forgiven Dio.
“I will not justify his actions, but for better or for worse he is still my son. If he were to come back, I would listen to what he had to say. If he were to ask for my forgiveness, I would accept him with open arms.”
“Then, you are a better man than I, Father.”
“My son, you have grown into such a fine young man. I am immensely proud of all you have become and all you will be. But do not lose heart, there may come a time when you are made to understand.” George said softly, offering Jonathan another amiable smile as he placed his comforting hand on his son’s shoulder. Tension bubbled in the air again. So many words left unsaid caused a look of strain to replace the smile on George’s face.
“Perhaps that will be so, but in the meantime, Father, you really ought to get some rest.” George only chuckled in response, if nothing else these trying times reminded him that he was grateful to have raised such a goodly and honorable son like Jonathan. He ruminated over the thought while he headed back up the stairs to his chambers, his trip into town had left him quite tired, and there was still much more to do before the party.
Jonathan retrieved the parcel by the door and took it back to his study. “Hmm, now what could this be? A Christmas gift, no, it would’ve been addressed to the family in that case, this is exclusively to me, and how bizarre, there is no return address.” Quite a curious thing it was. He set the package on his desk and scrutinized it carefully before cutting its binding. “What is this?” In utter shock, he nearly knocked the entire thing to the floor. “The… the stone mask? …Dio.” He trailed off, his mind was a slurry of fragmented thoughts. Of all the ways he expected to retrieve the mask, this had not been one of them, it was quite an interesting development to an already befuddling case. After all, what could’ve possessed Dio to return the mask out of the blue?
Tentatively, Jonathan picked up the mask to observe it more closely, after everything Zeppeli had told him he was right to be wary around the thing. It seemed more threatening now than it had before, but it was unmistakably the same. Underneath the mask at the bottom of the box sat a note written in Dio’s characteristic elegant, sloping, elongated script.
JoJo, I return this to you now, and in doing so, I sever the ties that once bound us together and instead forge my own path free of that which came before me. Let us be strangers once again. May our fates never be intertwined again. ~ Dio
“Dio…” Jonathan studied the note with a heavy gaze. “Such a peculiar thing this is.” He muttered as he tried to make sense of it all, but the more he thought the more unreal it all felt. He slumped back in his chair for a moment that felt unquantifiable. His mind drifted seamlessly into different possibilities. For a brief moment, it felt as though everything that occurred in November had been an elaborate hoax. That if he were to walk out into the hall at that moment, he may find Dio there, going about his business as he always had. He shook his head, he knew that wasn’t the case. Dio was gone, Dio had poisoned their father, Dio was a murderer. Any aptitude of cordiality that may have existed between them was gone. But he had to admit, much as Dio's disappearance seemed uncharacteristic of the arrogant and tenacious man he’d known all his youth, the sudden return of the mask was even more puzzling. Regardless of what use he’d gotten out of the mask, it seemed strange he would return it unprovoked. Certainly, Dio would view that as some kind of defeat, especially in his inability to return home.
Perplexed now more than ever, he packed up the box and roused Speedwagon in the guest bedroom where he’d stayed since his arrival. “Speedwagon, we must find Baron Zeppeli!” He announced without much explanation.
“Now then, what’s all this about?” Jonathan showed him the package containing both the mask and the note. “Is that…?”
“It is.”
“From Dio?”
“Indeed.”
“JoJo, do you have the faintest clue as to what this could mean?” He asked in a voice that seemed desperately frightened.
“Not in the least, but we must alert Baron Zeppeli at once.” Jonathan was steadfast in his resolve, but a tremor of fear ran through his voice as well.
“Righto, JoJo!” He exclaimed and jumped up to immediately follow his friend.
Baron Zeppeli came and went as he pleased, splitting his time between the Joestar mansion and a hotel that was nearer to Hugh Hudson Academy. Without much else to go on, he spent much of his time looking over the research Jonathan had conducted during his time at university. As far as Baron Zeppeli was concerned, Jonathan’s research was well thought out and logical; every bit as sound as he would have imagined from a man like Jonathan Joestar, though still incomplete and rather far off from the whole truth.
On this particular morning, he had taken breakfast in the hotel cafe when he received the urgent telegram from Jonathan. The contents caused him to jump from his seat, to his chagrin he knocked a cup of coffee off the table in the process. The curious incident of the mask’s reappearance seemed a near impossibility, one that Baron Zeppeli had not accounted for. With the knowledge that the mask had been sent back unprovoked, he would need to rethink the situation carefully. He had considered the finding of the man who stole the mask tantamount to finding the mask itself; though he’d assumed both would occur simultaneously.
By the afternoon he arrived at the Joestar mansion after having postulated several working hypotheses on the way there. As he usually did, he made his presence known once he entered the building. “Ah, what a curious twist of fate, indeed!” He exclaimed, bouncing between English and his native Italian. “Signore Joestar, you must show me immediately.”
And so Jonathan produced the package containing the mask as well as the note, speaking at length regarding its surprise arrival and his thoughts and opinions regarding the situation all while the man carefully studied both the mask and especially the note. Eventually, he carefully replaced both items in the box and looked up at Jonathan with his arms folded.
“But, what do you think this means, Baron Zeppeli?” Urged Jonathan, the not-knowing had begun to claw through his attempt at reticence.
“Come now, JoJo, I know not what to make of this from sight alone.”
“Do you think it could be good news?”
“Oh, it is possible, yes, but then again, I do not know.”
“So, then you think it is more likely to be bad news then?”
“No, I did not say so, I just find it… odd.” He paused on the last word, pondering it deeply as he brought his index finger to his chin.
“Well, you gotta be thinking something Baron, please, let us know.” Speedwagon chimed in hastily.
“JoJo, and Speedwagon too, I do believe that we are at a crossroads. At present there’s no way to tell if Dio has used the mask. As far as I can tell, the only way to know for sure is if we see him with our own eyes.” He made a gesture up at his eye as he spoke, drawing out each word clearly and carefully. “There is a possibility he sent it back unused, perhaps out of remorse.” He emphasized the word coolly, as though it seemed improbable.
“Well, I’d find that rather unlikely given what a perfect terror he’d been to Jonathan in their childhood!”
“But of course, no, it is probably more likely that he used the mask, gained its power and sent it back as a means to lull us into submission.”
“He is a clever Devil!” Speedwagon retorted, already having settled on this as the probable outcome, truly the only outcome as far as he was concerned.
Jonathan felt a pang of sadness in his chest, he was silently harboring the hope that Zeppeli’s former supposition was correct, not just for himself, but for his father’s sake more than anything. The sorrow that dwelt behind his father’s kindly demeanor was never without a hint of faith that Dio could return to his rightful place at the mansion, his home. How awful it would be to have those hopes dashed so coldly. Jonathan hadn’t the heart to tell his father the truth regarding the evils of the mask, as such he hadn’t any idea of the perils that stood before them. He could not bring himself to tell his father that it was quite likely that Dio, whom he’d loved as a son for nigh on a decade was likely no longer human at all.
“But there is something more, something peculiar in this note.” Zeppeli said, taking the note from the parcel once again and taking his fingers over it carefully as though it contained some kind of hidden meaning between the lines of ink.
“It is his penmanship, I can swear to that.” Jonathan assured.
“No amico mio, not in the words but the paper itself, this type of paper would usually be found only in a laboratory. I do find that a bit… odd.”
“What are you getting at Baron?” Speedwagon pressed, his resolve apparent in the strain of his voice
Baron Zeppeli continued, not paying any mind to Speedwagon’s outburst. “And you see this ink, it is of a very peculiar color; a dark purple, and it’s of rather nice quality, something, if I may suggest, would be a bit odd for a man to use, unless…”
“Are you suggesting a woman is involved?” Jonathan interjected, rife with concern over the thought of harm being done to an innocent person. “So you think a woman is working with him?”
“Working with him, it is a possibility. Or perhaps she was coerced by him, I cannot say. The details, they yet escape me, but I am certain of the presence of a woman, how the signorina fits into this little puzzle I cannot hardly say. ”
“Then she could be in terrible danger, we have to find her before something awful happens to her!” Jonathan cried. He knew Dio well, he knew his appetite for women. His charm had lent him many admirers, many of whom he’d bedded without question only to desert once he grew bored. In truth, his behavior had been the subject of local gossip at their university but it never strayed into scandal. Jonathan found it difficult to imagine the capabilities of a man such as Dio under the influence of the mask. He restrained his panic with a sigh. “But there’s no return address, how are we to look for him if we do not know where to start? What if… what if he hurts her before we can find him? I can’t allow him to do harm to any more innocent people.”
Zeppeli reigned in his compassion’s fears with a more affable expression. “You lose your head too quickly, amico mio. See here, the postmark indicates it was sent off not far from here, and just yesterday at that. I say, there is a good chance we will find a trail of him if we start there. As for the woman, if he hasn’t done anything to her yet, I don’t think that’s likely to change until he knows we’re pursuing him… ahh, and yes, that is always a possibility as well.”
“What is?”
“Ah but nothing, just a fanciful thought of mine, but if we are to track him, you will need to train your hamon before we encounter him, rushing in unprepared will surely result in defeat.”
“In the meantime, Baron, a few of my mates came back with me from Ogre Street, I’m sure I can wrangle them up and convince them to help us track him, that way we can lay low until JoJo’s strong enough to beat the devil.”
“Speedwagon, you are brilliant!” He sang, grabbing the man’s arm in a dramatic gesture of gratitude.
And so the plan was set. Speedwagon sent for his men and they were given swaths of area to search with the assurance that any sighting be reported back. Jonathan’s training began more vigorously than before. Jonathan had a natural talent for hamon and, under the skillful guidance of Baron Zeppeli, he proved quite a formidable opponent. Though he lacked what Baron Zeppeli would call style, he was unbelievably gifted; with enough fine tuning there should be no reason why Jonathan could not emerge victorious from any scuffle they may find themselves in.
Notes:
Happy Christmas In July, sorry it's not the Christmas chapter, whoops!
When I wrote this, I was super nervous about the time it would take for a package to arrive in the post, but apparently people loved getting mail so much in Victorian England that sometimes it would be delivered upwards of 12 times a day in London, so I figured that the one day timeline for a package in Liverpool probably isn't as farfetched as I had imagined. A surprisingly sophisticated mailing system those Victorians had.
Dio's artistically vague note definitely ain't doin nothin to quell Jonathan's worries.
I love writing angst for George, I'm sorry, I think he's such a criminally underrated character (all of Phantom Blood is underrated).
I don't know why Baron Zeppeli is coming out a bit like Hercule Poirot, but I love English mystery novels sooooo that is probably why. Maybe it's just the mustache.
crazy how Speedwagon invented being British.But seriously, does any one hate Dio more than Speedwagon? Bro knew him for like 0.3 seconds and was already like "I know that you were born evil and completely incapable of redemption. Fuck you!"
Chapter 18: I'd Have You Anytime
Notes:
THIS WAS SUPPOSED TO SWEET, THIS WAS SUPPOSED TO CUTE, THIS WAS SUPPOSED TO BE ALL FLUFF!
(See the end of the chapter for more notes.)
Chapter Text
The following day was clear and bright, golden rays of sunshine seemed to dance off the freshly fallen snow, creating a glimmering prism of swirling colors that sparkled under the morning sky. Everything about the world felt unendingly beautiful as you walked arm in arm with Dio through town, as though the scene had been plucked straight from a romance novel. He adjusted his grip to keep you close to him, even as the day wore on and his hands filled with various bags and packages that you had assured him you needed to put on a proper Christmas. You’d purchased enough ingredients to bake enough cookies to feed a small country, candles, various spools of red and green ribbon, and materials to make garlands and laurels; all of which Dio insisted would be ‘too much’ but you merely brushed off in favor of securing that final odds and ends you thought may be of use to decorate your small flat.
You gazed up at him as he walked beside you and took in the warm smile on his face that may have seemed out of place in the weeks before but now felt like home. The corners of your mouth curled into a smile as he leaned down to kiss your temple. The glow of the winter sun illuminated the starkness of his elegant features which only appeared more noble when he was attired so properly. The sight of him alone caused you to blush, warmth settled across your face with the remembrance that he was entirely yours. Such a man graced with incomparable beauty and ever-lasting charm, you were left with the impression that anyone who saw him was left bewitched by his striking appearance and the affable disposition he so easily assumed. Certainly, anyone granted the privilege of meeting him would fancy themselves on his arm and yet that position was reserved only for you. “And what has gotten you so excited?” He asked, nudging you slightly to urge you to take a seat on a nearby bench for a well-earned rest.
“Oh, nothing, I was just thinking about how we really look like a couple like this.”
“We look like a couple?” He scoffed, tilting his hat slightly over his eyes to block the sun. “Are we not a couple?”
“I suppose we are,” you giggled light-heartedly, enjoying how deliberate he was in his reaffirmation; though he had not been able to verbally reciprocate the love that you frequently admitted to him, his tender actions allayed your desires for the moment and allowed you to continue to be understanding of his need for patience in this regard.
“You suppose? I thought I made the boundaries of this relationship abundantly clear, or are you in need of another example when we return home?” The blush that had already been covering your face brightened to a deep crimson. He had been so thorough in his acquisition of your body that you would have thought that any lingering diffidence would’ve been long abandoned somewhere between the various trysts you’d engaged him in, but still, your heart was sent aflutter by even the mere implication of being entwined with him again. He gave a sardonic chuckle at your reaction and lifted your chin with his thumb and forefinger to coax you into a kiss, a far too passionate kiss for the public street surrounded by passersby on errands of their own, then pulling away with a cunning grin so he could observe your notable fluster.
You swallowed hard in an attempt to regain some semblance of your jostled composure. “Of-of course we are, I guess I hadn’t been thinking about how we would look to other people. I mean, I don’t really lead a particularly social life and I keep a firm divide between my work life and private life, I haven’t dealt with this experience since moving here.”
“Hm, certainly, I understand that your arrangement is rather complicated, but never in two years?”
“No, never,” you shrugged, remembering the loneliness that often plagued you before Dio entered your life.
“Not even once?”
“Well, it’s not as though I am exactly the picture of an ideal wife. My job alone would put most men off the idea of a relationship with me. Perhaps they would entertain the possibility of indulging in one messy, ardent night for the thrill of the conquest alone, but never any kind of companionship.”
“Ah, I see, so that’s how you’d stave off loneliness for so long.”
“No!” You dismissed the implication with greater haste than the situation warranted. “I was only attempting to wax poetic, I mean, even if I had wanted to, it wouldn’t have been worth the risk. No, I’d never even entertained the possibility of having someone, save for you, of course. ”
“And I am worth the risk?” He gazed upon you with a quizzical expression, unsure if that amounted to a compliment.
“I already told you that you’re a risk I’m willing to take, even now that the circumstances have changed, I want you and all of the various complications that come with loving you, so long you’re willing to have me and mine. You are special to me.”
“My dear, if you keep saying such things I will have no choice but to take you back home and show you that you are so much more than just one messy, ardent night.” He turned your shoulders to face him and cascaded one of his hands over your waist, guiding you closer to him, he kissed you again in such a way that it made the previous one seem chaste in comparison. “With the knowledge that you’d been waiting two years, I now understand why your body has been so receptive. It must have been tiring, playing Virgin Mary for so long.”
“Now, I haven’t exactly been a monk, I’d like to think more of a recluse, like Thoreau, in my own little Walden.” You interjected, folding your arms in a huff.
“Ah yes, in a city… surrounded by people.”
“One is never so alone as in a crowded room. The loneliness can be suffocating when there are dozens of people around, but none that know you.”
Dio contemplated that for a moment, he’d always enjoyed being around other people, he could charm a crowd in an instant and have them singing his praises as if he were a god before them. He reveled in the pleasure of being adored, but had any of those people truly cared for him? Obsequious sycophants groveling for whatever fineries came with being in his good graces, but they’d sooner turn him out once he’d outlasted his usefulness, just as he would’ve done to them. In truth, he’d come to realize that they were using him as much as he was using them. He never realized how horribly isolating it felt to have so many people admire him, but not a single person that actually knew him. When did everything in his life become such a farce?
With so many conflicting ideas rattling through his brain, he decided it best not to respond. Part of him wanted to be angry at you for making him face this rather uncomfortable truth, but you were you and you adored him as he was and you were the only person to have ever done so in a way that made a difference to him. It was always that lingering softness that made it impossible for him to be cross with you. From the start, you had stood nothing to gain out of loving him, but you loved him nonetheless and he was better for it.
He leaned down to give the top of your head a thankful kiss in acknowledgement of all the ways you had so deeply affected him. The cruel path he had been fated to walk suddenly diverged the moment you took him into your arms. A new path had been formed and he was set free from the looming density to which he had been shackled for so many years. Suddenly there was so much more to life. Your kindly words of love always seemed to soothe his soul. Slowly, he’d begun to feel more welcoming towards these kinds of affections that he’d previously been averse. He hadn’t thought it possible, but the way you loved him seemed so easy, so effortless, so normal. He couldn’t help the trepid nature in which he approached his sentiments towards you, but he knew that whatever he felt, it certainly went well beyond the scope of the previous limitations he had so carefully imposed. “I have a stop to make.” He said, finally breaking the silence as he stood to his feet.
“Oh, sure, I’ll go with you.”
“No, this errand is personal. Do not wander off on your own, I will be back shortly.”
You raised an eyebrow at this, it always felt somewhat off-putting to you that he seemed to believe you were unable to take care of yourself in public, but you begrudgingly accepted it as one of the ways he showed that he cared for you, a punctilious attempt at chivalry, you supposed. “Okay, but don’t be too long, I want to be home before the evening so we can enjoy the snow.” He quickly gave you one final kiss before disappearing into the crowd. “I’ll be waiting here for you when you get back!” You called, sprawling out on the bench, beginning to rifle through one of the many bags at your feet.
Dio took quick but measured steps down the street in the direction of your favorite bookshop, recalling the conversation in which you had divulged to him the history behind your love for Little Women. Though he hadn’t said as much, your story resonated with him. Deep in the recesses of his mind, he could recall the times when his mother used to read to him and the security that provided him in his youth. In the wake of his adulthood, he retained but few softer recollections of time spent with his mother, but the warmth of her arms around his tiny frame, the tendrils of her long golden hair that so perfectly matched his dancing against his skin as she turned her head to admire him, and the soft, lilting drawl of her voice that soothed him to the depths of his soul remained ever lurking on his mind. Normally, these memories, though the better ones of his tumultuous childhood, would have left him with a bitter taste on his tongue, but wrapped in the soft glow of your tender affections they’d begun to feel more pleasant than he remembered and he now regarded them nobly in his mind. And so, while you were at work the following day, Dio made an effort to search through all of your books to assure himself that you didn’t own the book, it seemed a rather important thing to you, and as such, he decided that would make a nice Christmas gift for you, something that would remind you of your home. While he only had the money he came with, he was certain it was enough for a book with perhaps a bit to spare.
As Dio walked through town, he became aware that someone had been following him for the last several blocks. Bothered by this annoyance, he stopped and turned around, but there was no one in sight. Now vexed by this intrusion, he continued on with a degree of trepidation, careful to not even cast a subtle glance over his shoulder as he purposefully made a wrong turn down an alley in hopes of catching a glimpse of whoever was unwise enough to follow him. But to his displeasure the footsteps stopped just shy of the turn, leaving only the smallest hint of a shadow on the precipice. His brow furrowed with irritation. “To whomever had been following me, I would strongly suggest giving up this ill-advised pursuit for your own sake.”
Only silence followed.
Though not unexpected, it only served to heighten his aggravation. He had little tolerance for such irritations, even less if they posed a threat to you. He spat in frustration, by the time he’d returned to the road any trace of whoever had followed him was long gone. He sighed deeply, he was not about to let a worrisome phantom from his past bring harm to you. With heightened senses, he returned to his errand, making greater haste.
He strode down the street until he came upon the bookstore; immediately comforted by the smell of old books upon entering. He wandered through the aisles, glancing over some titles he thought may be interesting, but kept primarily focused on his task. Pleased that he was able to locate the book with such ease, he made his way to the counter to pay.
“Are you buying this for that lovely girl you were here with before?” The owner of the store asked as Dio handed him the book.
“I— yes.” For a second he was taken aback by this earnestness, the question had left him rather nonplussed.
“Oh, how wonderful, she comes in here often and is always friendly, but always alone. I’m glad to know she’s not always alone, she really is a lovely girl but she has such faraway eyes. Last year she brought me and my wife a whole tray of cookies for Christmas.”
“Hm, that does sound like her.” He smiled to himself, finding it rather easy to engage in idle conversation with the man.
“Have you known her for a long time?”
“No, not terribly.” Dio admitted and paid a small sum for the book.
“Oh, then it’s a budding romance, how lovely, I wish happiness for the both of you.” He smiled jovially and handed the book back to Dio. “Please, do try to take care of her.”
“I intend to do just that.” He responded, hurrying out of the shop, you were still waiting for him after all.
By the time you had returned home the evening had gotten on and the sun had already begun to sink low into the sky causing the shadows to extend long and thin as a chilly darkness swept over the town. Before any words could be exchanged, you handed Dio the bags you disappeared down the hall and into the bedroom with a sheepish giggle. He gave you a curious glance but turned his attention to unpacking the supplies you had procured on your trip. Not five minutes later you returned looking rather tomboyish in a pair of woolen trousers and a heavy knit sweater over top of a thick turtleneck with a colorful knit cap on your head which you had obviously made yourself.
Dio took in your funny appearance as a slender smirk crawled across his face. “Oh, little boy, I think you must’ve wandered into the wrong house.”
“Ha-ha, you’re so funny,” You rolled your eyes dramatically before looping your arm in his and pulling him down the hall with his coat in tow. “Now hurry and get ready, it’s time to play in the snow!”
“You want to... play in the snow?” He leaned against the doorframe with a puzzled expression on his face.
“Yes, now come on, it’ll be dark soon, hurry!” You pushed him further towards the back door with urgency. The backyard had already fallen mostly into darkness, only the last tendrils of daylight could be seen dwindling over the horizon in murky hues of wine and mauve. There wasn’t that much snow, nothing compared to the New England winters you’d grown up with, but there was enough to cover the ground. Your footprints left a pattern in the untouched snow as you walked. Stopping in the middle of the yard, you flung yourself to the ground and began flapping your arms and legs maniacally
“What… are you doing?” Dio observed you with a nearly horrified expression on his face.
“I’m making a snow angel, c’mon, it’s your turn!”
“No thank you, I do not wish to get my clothes wet.”
“Come on!” You pouted, pulling on his arm. He attempted to resist, but your face proved too cute to disappoint. With a huff he relented and laid in the snow beside you, his nice coat already feeling soaked. “You have to move your arms up and down, like this!” You returned to the childish display, over-emphasizing each of the movements.
“I can’t, I will look ridiculous.” He scoffed, a faint blush covering his cheeks.
“You have to. Besides, who other than me is going to see you? Aren’t I entitled to a bit of ridiculousness?” With an audible groan, he obliged, moving his arms slowly. “That’s the spirit!” You cheered in encouragement. “See, it’s fun!” You said through a string of laughter, tiny tears dripped from the corners of your eyes in an overt display of mirth.
Okay, maybe it was a little fun, he pressed his eyes shut and covered his mouth with his hand in an attempt to stifle his laughter, all at once he felt unexpectedly at ease.
“You look so cute.”
He opened his eyes to see you kneeling over him with a look of pure love and adoration. The flakes of snow that stuck in the ends of your hair seemed to twinkle like the stars that dappled the night sky around you. How wholly unrestrained and beautiful you looked. You moved to touch his face, it was warm and incardinated with embarrassment. With a deep breath, he restored some of his usual bravado and grabbed your arm to pull you on top of him, his hands firmly settling on your hips, offering him just enough leverage to pull you even closer to him. The sudden tension caused you to instinctively roll your hips into his. The chill of the snow through your clothes set a shudder through your body and a whispery gasp escaped your lips. Surely enough, your face was the one covered in a ruby flush.
Dio did not allow it to go unnoticed and took the opportunity to lean up and kiss you. He meant it to be quick and romantic, but it had turned deeper than that. Your fingers laced in his hair, tightening as the beads of frigid water dripped under your sleeves. His hands desperately sought to touch you, but the bulky layers of clothing you were wearing had made this a far more difficult task than he would’ve preferred.
The sun had completely set and the yard was left veiled in inky darkness, only dimly illuminated by the light that was cast from your office window. A chilly wind blew through the air and threatened to take your hat along with it. Another shiver ran through you, leaving you all too conscious of your wet clothes.
Dio stood up and dusted some of the snow off his pants. “We ought to go inside now, you’ll get sick if you stay out here too long.” You pouted again, crossing your arms over your chest in a rather childish display, but the chill of the night was seizing you so you figured it was for the best. Still pouting, you allowed him to help you to your feet and lead you inside, making sure to lock the door behind you.
Once inside, the two of you slipped out of your wet coats, the heavy fabric fell to the ground in a heap. The chill yet kept its hold on your body as you slipped your sweater over your head. “Have I told you how much I love the snow?” You cooed, lost in a sea of wistful reminiscences of your childhood and long snowy winter days that always ended warm by the fireplace with hot chocolate as music played softly on the radio.
“Yes, I believe you’ve made that quite clear indeed.” He said while shaking his head and patting your shoulders.
“And have I told you how much I love you?”
“I believe you’ve made that quite clear as well,” he said and pressed a tiny kiss against your bottom lip, “but it is always nice to be reminded.”
You pulled him in closer to you and leaned up to ensnare him in another kiss. “Perhaps you would like another demonstration?”
“Oh? Yes, I believe that would be quite nice as well.” He nuzzled closer, enjoying the way you wrapped your arms around his neck to accept him. He took you firmly into his arms, caging you against his chest with little effort. He refused to break the kiss for even a moment as he allowed your tongue to slip into his mouth.
With your body pressed so tightly against his, you made an impetuous attempt to glean any additional amount of contact you could manage from your position. “Dio, I want you.”
You leaned into him with far more vehemence, making it impossible for him to deny his own arousal. “Let’s get out of these wet clothes first.” He insisted, but not without rocking his hips against you just so that you could feel his half-hard cock.
“Okay.” You let out an exasperated sigh followed by a string of airy kisses as he led you further down the hall, all the while Dio took to pulling your damp shirt off your frame. Your newly exposed skin prickled with goosebumps either from the chill or the lingering feeling this touch left behind as his hands travelled down the curve of your body. Without missing a beat, he undid the button on your pants and allowed them to fall at your feet, leaving you standing in only your panties, waiting with bated breath for him to continue.
To your dismay, he turned down the hall, returning only seconds later, wrapping you securely in a towel. “Th-thank you,” you stuttered, ogling him as he discarded his clothes alongside yours. Rather gallantly, he took you by the hand and led you into your office, but your eyes were fixated on tracing the definition etched by his muscles down his waist. Swiftly, he drew the curtains closed and then turned all of his attention to you.
Dio began showering you with kisses, taking a special interest in a particularly succulent spot at the top of your breast, sucking it firmly as his hand travelled down to the top of your panties. Your breath hitched in anticipation as his fingers dipped just beneath the hem but he never gave in to the sensation that you wanted. He ground against you, allowing an ample opportunity to feel his hardened length. You curled your fingers around his shaft, generously stroking his cock. A groan he failed to stifle escaped his chest in response. “May I? You asked, as you lowered yourself to your knees; always so polite in action.
“Certainly.”
Your tongue circled over the head of his cock before trailing along his entire length. Your eyes met his as you wrapped your lips around him. “Such a good girl.” His hand came to rest at the base of your head. Slowly, he inched you forward to take him further down your throat. You gripped onto his thighs to keep yourself steady when you felt his fingers lace into your hair. He set a slow but firm pace, grunting each time he hit the back of your throat. Your eyes clamped shut from the effort, but before you could acclimate yourself to his unforgiving size, he pulled himself from your mouth. “Enough, come here.”
With little effort, Dio helped you to your feet and lifted you onto the edge of your desk, shoving several of your trinkets to the side to make room enough for you to sit. Tenderly, he cupped your breast. A soft gasp fell from your lips when you felt the cold touch of his hand. “You’re beautiful," he crooned before closing his mouth around your nipple which grew pert as he rolled his tongue over it. In spite of the cold left on your skin from the snow, your entire body felt hot.
“Oh, god, Dio!” You squealed, immediately you threw your head back in response. How he relished in the way his name sounded as it dripped so wantonly from your mouth. Your hips squirmed as his hand slid down your waist. “More,” you whined, brushing a few strands of hair out of his face.
“Someone needs to learn patience,” he chided, rolling your panties down your legs as he situated himself between your legs.
“Two years… I think I’ve been patient enough.”
“Hmm, perhaps you have,” he chuckled, observing how wet you were. He spread your legs to offer himself a better view before he lightly grazed his tongue along your sex. He hummed against you as your taste filled his mouth.
Your breaths grew labored, you'd already been rendered feeble by his meager efforts. “I’m ready, I need you”
“Are you?” He asked, gliding a finger between your folds.
“Yes.”
“Alright, then beg.”
“What—?”
“Beg.” He repeated as he pulled himself to his feet until he was standing squarely between your legs.
“I’m not going to beg for my boyfriend, that’s ridiculous.”
“Fine, suit yourself.”
He spread your legs wider and guided the head of his cock through your folds, teasing it ever so slightly against your clit. You closed your eyes in anticipation of the way you’d be stretched around him, but several moments had passed and you were still not granted the sensation you’d been longing for. You opened your eyes to see him as he leaned over you, using your own arousal as lubrication to stroke himself. “You have got to be kidding me.”
“I’m perfectly serious, but we can do it this way if you don’t want to play the game.” His other hand ghosted over your cunt, reaffirming that he knew how badly you wanted him. Immediately finding your clit, he began another relentless pursuit as your hips jittered indecorously in an attempt to get closer to him.
“You’re vicious!”
“Perhaps, but as I’m such a benevolent lover, I’ll make sure you are satisfied as well.”
“Dio, you’re not… joking… are you?”
“It’s alright, dear, I don’t have to fuck you,” he slid his fingers over your clit at a maddening rate. Never holding consistently to one rhythm long enough for you to get anywhere close to orgasm, “though it appears as though you would like me to.”
“I do want you to! You know I want you to!”
“Then. Beg.”
You exhaled sharply, swallowing all your pride at once. “Dio, please fuck me.”
“Oh, I think you can do better than that. Perhaps we need a bit more motivation.”
At once the indiscriminate patterns he’d been drawing over your clit became measured and precise, affirming to you that if he wanted to, he could get you off in seconds. He just didn’t want to, it was more fun to draw it out until you were a needy, whimpering mess.
“Dio please fuck me! I need you! No one has ever fucked me as well as you have, I am so desperate to have you inside me again! Please don’t make me wait anymore!”
“See, was that so difficult?” He leaned down and kissed your burning cheeks, alight with the ruby flames of embarrassment. “Of course I’ll fuck you, I would be glad to do whatever my good girl wants,” he let out a shuddering grunt as he entered you, “fuck.”
“It seems like I wasn’t the only desperate one.” You sneered, holding tightly to the edge of your desk as you adjusted to his size.
“Must you always be nasty?”
“I bet this feels a lot better than your hand.”
“Choice words from a girl who was begging mere moments ago, I could stop, you know.”
“We both know you wouldn’t want that any more than I do.”
“That churlish attitude of yours… it is rather… unbecoming,” he snarled through gritted teeth as continued to drive into you.
“Is it?” You taunted as you draped your arms over his shoulders and rolled your hips to meet each of his thrusts.
“Quite so.” His eyes narrowed, his gaze almost menacing as he glared down at you. “But no matter; I believe I have a remedy for that.” He brought his thumb to his mouth and swiped his tongue over it. A dreadful smirk crawled across his face as he pressed his thumb to your clit.
A sharp groan escaped you involuntarily. You dug your fingers into Dio’s back to keep your position. Your hips rocked to take him even deeper.
“Now, darling, why don’t you tell me how good this feels?”
“It feels… good.” A breathy whisper was all you could muster, his ministrations were bringing you to the edge far sooner than you’d anticipated. Your nails dug more vehemently into his skin, trying your best to keep from coming undone so easily.
“How good?” He asked insistently
“Amazing!” You moaned, your back arching forward in a brilliant display of carnal gratification.
“Look at how your body craves me, it’s magnificent.” With a grunt, he pulled your hips closer to him, bottoming out inside you instantly. You screamed his name at such a volume that it strained your voice, an intense heat built deep within you from being spread so tightly around him. You pressed your forehead onto his shoulder for a moment of respite, but he pulled you back up to entangle you in a messy kiss.
Between the rough and steady thrusts of his cock, the deliberate way he’d been tracing his thumb against your clit, and the added sensation of his tongue swirling over yours, the feeling proved too much, your orgasm crashed over you with a white-hot intensity that left your hips sputtering wildly against him.
“How filthy.” He chastised, but his mocking did little to conceal that elation he felt in seeing your pathetic frame spasming into him as he fucked you, roughly kissing your desperate, whining mouth. “You are absolutely exquisite.”
The glow of orgasm splintered into overstimulation as Dio continued to unrelentingly rub firm circles over your tender clit. “Dio… please… too much”
“Oh, is it too much? Were you not begging for me earlier?”
“Yes, but… it’s so— ah! So sensitive!”
“Hm, forgive me, I hadn’t thought you’d be one to bow out so quickly. I suppose your bark was indeed worse than your bite.” You scowled, still attempting to collect yourself, but each thrust into you became rougher than the last, you couldn’t contain the sounds that poured for you. “I want to hear how good I’m making you feel. I want to hear you screaming my name. I want to know I’m the only one who can make you feel this good.”
“Yes, Dio.” You sighed, clinging to him for support. Your hips squirmed in a weak attempt to ride out the overwhelming tension that pooled inside you once again. He roughly gripped your hip with his free hand to steady you in place, his thrusts growing more vigorous each time he slammed into you. The jarring sensation sent a jolt throughout your body. “Dio— ah! Dio!”
“Excellent.” He moaned, pressing as far into you as this position would allow. You could feel his cock pulse within you as he finally allowed himself to cum. In the wake of his orgasm, he was left grunting and panting against you. You could feel the sweat from his brow as he pressed his forehead into yours before moving in for a tender kiss as his thrusts slowed inside of you.
After taking several moments to collect himself, he pulled you to your feet and you stumbled wearily into his arms. All of your clothes had been left discarded on the ground as Dio brought you into bed, doting over you with a myriad of kisses and praises reveling in post-coital bliss. “Every surface in this house,” he whispered into your ear as a reminder, but it went little heeded as you curled tightly into his arms.
Notes:
Any excuse to make Dio think about his mom is one I am going to take. I am a fiend for that kind of angst. Plus, even though she isn't an active character, I still think she plays an important role for our boy sees the world. I've tried to make Dio's inner thoughts and how his feelings alter as he grows more honest with himself sort of a backdrop for how the story progresses.
On the subject, I know we never actually see Dio's mom, but I head canon that Dio resembles her quite a bit; same hair, same eyes, so I am running with it here. Hope you all don't mind.
I hope everyone is getting in the Christmas Spirit, even though it is now August :D
This chapter is rather long and I'd like to say the next one is shorter, but it's really not. Unfortunately, there are several long chapters in the future, I hope you guys don't mind. I'll try to keep them as manageable as I can.
Anyway, as always, thank you all for reading!! :)
Chapter 19: In the Shape of a Heart
Notes:
It's Christmas Eve, folks (let's pretend, okay?) and I am back with another terribly long chapter!
MASSIVE warning for this chapter; there is a rather graphic description of abuse. Normally when I've discussed Dio's childhood abuse here, it's been through vague recollections that more than anything emphasize the way he felt, but this one is far more detailed than anything I've written previously, so if you aren't in a good headspace to read that feel free to skip or come back when you are.
CW: graphic depictions of child abuse, domestic violence, mentions of blood, murder, and alcoholism.
(See the end of the chapter for more notes.)
Chapter Text
~December 24th, 1888~
An unusual warmth filled the morning air as Dio awoke to find your spot next to him had been left unoccupied. A bit annoyed by the vacancy, he traipsed into the kitchen to find you already hard at work, an elaborate assembly line of more types of cookies than he could count had been laid out on every surface of your little kitchen.
You looked up from your work when you heard the soft creak of the hardwood floors under his steps. “Good morning, sleepy head, did you get a good night’s rest?”
No response was offered. He merely leaned against the table, looking on at you with a bemused smirk that tattered between playful vexation and sheer astonishment. You wore a pretty red knit dress that had been brought with you from your time, the hem hit several inches above your knee and flowed fluidly with your movements as you dashed around the kitchen, a white apron with eyelet trim had been tied snugly around your waist. He was always mesmerized when you wore things from your time. Especially such things he knew would allow him easier access.
“What?” You grumbled with a hand set firmly on your hip.
“Oh, I was merely taking in this lovely display of domesticity.”
“Well, grab a spatula, because you’re helping!”
He met you across the room and snaked his arm around your waist, trapping you against his body. You could feel him chuckle against your skin as he dotted several kisses along your neck. You swayed against him, leaning into every lingering touch. “Did you sleep well?” You asked again, more sincerely this time as you craned your neck up to peer into the glowing citrine of his eyes, and though you were still met with the familiar intensity of his gaze, it somehow felt more welcoming than you remembered.
“Exceedingly so.”
“That’s good to hear, you more than deserved it after last night.” You crooned with a cheeky grin plastered across your face, feeling rather bold and nuzzling into him as though to emphasize the glaring innuendo.
“I see that last night did little to alter that unmannerly disposition of yours.”
“Oh, so you do fantasize about having me meek and proper. Maybe another demonstration will correct my behavior.”
“I fantasize about having you in every way, my little darling.” He whispered, drawing the words out in a low purr as he allowed his hands to roam along the curve of your waist that had been further accentuated by the ties of the apron.
“Good to know. By the way, your coat is drying on the radiator.” You said as you wiggled free from his arms. “Now, have a cookie.” With a beaming smile, you handed him a tray of warm chocolate chip cookies. “These are my specialty, I make the best chocolate chip cookies on the planet.”
“Your modesty knows no bounds.”
“That’s rich, coming from you.” He huffed at your churlish remark, but took a cookie anyway, taking a small bite. “Do you like it?”
“It’s delicious,” he said, patting your shoulder and taking another small bite. “You have certainly been busy.”
“I’m like a well-oiled machine, I devised the system last year, everything is perfectly timed so that I can prep the next batch while the other is in the oven, right now the shortbreads are in the oven, next the Linzer cookies, since those have to be assembled, the jam is already cooling on the stove, then we move onto the sugar cookies, I always double the recipe so I can use half for snickerdoodles, and—”
“Then it looks like we have a lot of work ahead of us.” He placed a quick kiss on your forehead, “what would you like me to do?” He asked, wrapping his arm around your waist and pulling you close as his hands ventured to the swell of your hips as he brushed against the skirt of your dress.
“Okay, good! Here, cream the butter and sugar, I have to get my shortbread.” He let you go with only the tiniest bit of protest in his hesitation. He picked up the spatula and lazily stirred the butter and sugar mixture, paying more attention to the way you bent over to remove the tray of cookies from the oven.
The two of you spent much of the afternoon in a pleasant domestic leisure. You casually hummed melodies of Christmas songs as you happily buzzed from task to task. Dio had a particular admiration for the way your dainty hands gently formed each cookie with such care and the way you measured each ingredient with a clinical precision built up from years of work in a laboratory setting. In all his life Dio had never experienced such a feeling of comfortable normalcy. These gentle, everyday moments were so commonplace to you but Dio relished in the feeling, he’d never even considered himself able to enjoy these warm trivialities with another person, but here it had unfolded right in front of him. So unfamiliar, yet deeply welcomed.
“So, tomorrow’s Christmas.” You pondered, breaking the comfortable silence that had formed between the two of you.
“So it is.”
“You still haven’t told me if there are any traditions you’d like to celebrate with me.”
“Really darling, there isn’t anything.”
“Oh, come now, there must be something. What would you usually do?”
He paused a moment, a bit uncomfortable with your insistence, but thought it best not to let onto the way he was feeling. “The Joestars always held a rather impressive party with a menagerie of important guests, a kind of charitable affair.”
“That's all well and good, but what did you do?”
“I… attended the party, adopted or otherwise I was still a member of the family”.
“No, I mean, your traditions, from your childhood, with your mom, if there is anything special, I’d love to do it.”
“No.” He replied abruptly, a hint of malice breaking in his voice.
“Nothing at all?” You looked up at him, a troubled, almost sorrowful look on his face. You pushed the gingerbread dough you’d been kneading to the side and wiped your hands on your apron. “Dio, is everything alright? You know that you can tell me…”
He leaned his back against the counter with a deep scowl etched into his face, his eyes were fixed on the ground rather than on you as they had been before. “We lived in near squalor, so there was never much in terms of celebrating. Christmas in the slums is hardly more than an ordinary day, I did not grow up with the warm festivities that you did, but even so…” he paused now and sighed very deeply, “Christmas usually was not a pleasant time.” He winced after such a statement. A declaration he would’ve rather left unspoken. The thought stirred up a ghostly remembrance of the pain in a wound long since healed, and yet not so. Instinctively he covered a particular spot on his arm.
“Dio, I’m so sorry. I’m sorry that you’re hurting. It isn’t right.” You offered reassurance as you gently placed your hand over his.
“It was a long time ago.” His scornful look softened, but a residual strain remained. Slowly, you rolled his sleeve up, just enough to reveal a broad scar that stretched laterally across the inside of his arm. A jagged irregularity in his otherwise pristine ivory skin that had long since faded to a streak of indented white that appeared almost spectral in quality. It was a mark that carried an otherwise incorporeal affliction that had bedeviled him for years as a ghastly reminder of the past he could never fully be rid of. The terrible event and horrible months that followed. He had been far too ashamed to admit that it haunted him even still. He flinched as you grazed your fingertips over the craggy trajectory that led you down his arm until your hand twined with his. You had noticed the scar before, you’d seen it while fervidly tangled in the throes of passion while he made love to you. At the time, you hadn’t the nerve to mention it, out of fear for the circumstances by which it had been attained. You didn’t need fine details to know the matter was an unpleasant one.
“Dio, if you don’t mind, would you tell me what happened?”
He physically recoiled at the question, only managing to snarl out a discourteous response that was just shy of vitriolic. “I very much do mind and I do not wish to discuss the matter further.”
“Okay.” You put your hands up in surrender to show him you would let the matter rest and returned your attention to the gingerbread dough. You spread a layer of flour out over the counter and began to roll the dough into an even sheet, all the while watching from the corner of your eye as Dio began to rummage through your cabinets. He retrieved a tall glass that would usually be used for water or milk and poured himself the remainder of the wine you’d shared a few nights ago.
He took a seat at the table and leaned backward in the chair, staring up at the ceiling. “It was Christmas, it was my mother’s last Christmas.”
“Dio…” You attempted to interrupt, attempted to assure him that he didn’t have to tell you anything if he didn’t want to, but he continued on, staring up at the ceiling with two fingers pressed around the bridge of his nose in distress.
“My father was drinking again but that was not unusual. No, it would have been more so had he not been. However, he had worked himself into a particularly foul mood because my mother had bought me a Christmas present despite our lack of money.” Dio took a small sip of the wine in his glass, almost cursing it as the dark fluid swirled around the glass in a tiny cyclone that splashed tiny droplets onto the sides. “It was more important for him to feed his addiction rather than provide for his family. A horrid, miserable wretch—” He scoffed harshly and took another drink. “ So he had been berating my mother for her transgression all day. Then, drunk and entirely unashamed, he emptied the bottle and threw it across the room at her, it hit her in the forehead and shattered into thousands of pieces on the ground.” The rage that had been brewing behind his eyes quelled to a deep, mournful sorrow reflected in the glassy tears that beaded on the perimeter of his eyes. “And she did not even make a fuss about it, she never did, not even once. She only offered to clean up the mess as if it had been her fault.” He drained the rest of his glass and leaned further back in his chair with his hand covering his face. “But I was crying, scared after seeing her fall to the ground, after seeing her blood dripping down her face. This enraged my father even more so he stumbled across the room and took one of the shards the bottle had splintered into and with it, he cut into my arm.” He breathed a heavy sigh that was just shy of relief now that the worst had been spoken. “And that was that, it never healed properly.” He said matter of factly, pushing his sleeve back down. There was no more to say.
Behind the murky dark of his eyes, Dio faded into a memory he could so vividly recall in spite of the years that had past. So real it seemed in recollection that he could almost feel the searing pain, sharp and acute and unlike his father’s usual punishments. He remembered the heavy, languid drops of blood that streaked down his arm. If it hadn’t been for the pain, he’d have been unaware that his body was his own. “Now keep quiet, Dio! I don’t want to hear another word!” Vibrant crimson staining his dingy canvas shirt. Heavy, languid drops. Searing pain. “My poor baby!” Her weary voice was airy and almost vacant. The only time she ever looked at her husband with scorn was when he put his hands on her son, but righteous indignation only got her so far. “Dario, he’s just a boy, he’s just a baby. It’s me you’re upset with, not him.” Dio lay frozen amidst the scattered shards of glass and sticky residue of liquor, his body incapable of moving out of fear that something worse may happen. Every time she challenged him, something worse happened. Better to let him be until he collapsed from the drink. “That was too far, Dario, he’s just a child.” Her figure was gaunt from years of overwork, but to Dio she had, up until then, always seemed heroic. Tall, and brave. The long flaxen waves of her hair seemed angelic in quality in the way they hung about her face like the warm rays of daylight. “You shouldn’t be spoiling the worthless brat. He’s useless, a burden, just like you. Too weak to even care for yourself, you’re gonna leave me responsible for that damn boy, I just know it.” Dio was all too familiar with the sounds of him hitting her. All too familiar. He tried to ignore it, catatonic on the floor amidst the clamor in the other room. “Dario, stop, it’s me you’re upset with.” The crimson drops spilled onto his shirt, drying to rusty stains. The searing pain, he never forgot the searing pain. She returned to his side, ugly violet patterns on her face, a sticky stripe of blood across her forehead. Her once long, magnificent hair had been cut blunt and jagged above her shoulders. “Come here, dear boy, let’s get you cleaned up.” Dio would never forget the way her soft brown eyes fell, dark and morose upon seeing the cut. So deep. Still bleeding. Searing pain. She should have sent for the doctor, she knew she should have, but it was Christmas and he would never allow it, the money. It was always the money. “Sweetheart, this may sting a little, please try your best to be quiet.” The cold rag touched his skin. Rusty stains. “Mother, what happened to your hair?” Mindlessly she dragged the choppy ends through her fingers, a soft sorrow was restrained in the bones of her saintlike face which appeared now more sunken than it had before. “Don’t trouble about it, dear boy. It was… getting too hard for me to manage.” Bitter was the taste of the lie that left her mouth. She swallowed thickly and tried to convince herself it was the truth. A tight gauzy bandage wound around his arm, stiff and less mobile, but no longer bleeding. It began to feel like his body again. “Mother, will you read to me before bed?” She tousled his soft hair and forced a sweet smile, “of course I will, but first, let’s get you washed up for bed.” Rusty stains on his shirt, they’d never come out. “Much too far this time. He’s just a boy. Just a child.” She bit back her anger upon seeing the smattering of bruises across his back, many of which matched her own, indigo impressions left in the pattern of a knuckle, repeated over and over again across his little body. “Too far, too far. He’s just a boy, just a child. He doesn’t deserve this. I’m the one he’s upset with. It should be me instead.” Her beautiful son, her only son. He should have the world, his life should be better than hers. He shouldn’t be scared and hurt every day. “Mother, please don’t cry.” He never forgot her darkened eyes. Never forgot the rusty stains on his dingy canvas shirt. Never forgot the heavy, languid streams of crimson dripping down his arm. Never forgot the searing pain.
“Dio…” You untied your apron and rushed to his side, pressing his face into your chest, it was done unthinkingly, born from the need to offer any comfort you could provide him. But the suddenness of feeling your body against his jolted him from the claws of memory and brought him back to the present. “I’m so sorry that happened to you, it wasn’t fair, it’s not okay.” You looked down at him now, his eyes watery with tears he’d been forcing back. “Dio, it’s okay to cry.”
He gritted his teeth and grabbed a fistful of fabric from your dress, bunching it in his hands in an attempt to rid himself of the lingering nervous energy. “After all of the rotten things I have done, I have waived the right to feel sorry about anything that happened to me in the past.”
“No.” You interrupted, shaking your head vehemently and bringing your hand to his face to gently stroke his cheek. “We can deal with any of the bad things you’ve done another time, it doesn’t make what happened to you okay.” You held him tighter, one arm clung firmly to his chest and the other curled around his shoulders to cradle his head in the hollow of your shoulder. You felt an ache beneath your ribs upon hearing the soft sobs he’d attempted to restrain. Your heart raced in ire over the hurt you felt for him, it wasn’t fair, it wasn’t okay. “Dio, your father beat you, he abused you, he hurt you, that will never be okay, and you are allowed to feel hurt, you are allowed to be upset, and you are allowed to cry.”
He looked up at you, several glassy tears streaming down his cheeks. You wiped them away with your finger and pressed a gentle kiss into his forehead. “Come here.” You whispered and guided him over to the couch where you could easily console him. You let him lay against you as you rubbed circles into his back, feeling the tension in his strained muscles. You held him silently in your arms, unbothered by the passing moments of the fleeting afternoon so long as you could feel his breathing return to its steady pattern.
Dio felt a peculiar sensation gnawing at his heart. That familiar tightness filled his chest. One he had felt previously around you, though he hadn’t let it be named. A nervous hand fiddled with your fingers, running directionless along the peaks and valleys of your knuckles. He swallowed thickly, he could feel the burning soreness in his eyes left behind by his tears. It had been such a long-forgotten sensation. There had been so many things he’d refused to engage with for so long.
A knot tightened in the pit of his stomach as he raised his hand to your face, his fingertips barely grazing the skin of your cheek as though you were something phenomenally delicate and pure that you would be sullied by his touch. The remembrance of the blood he shared with his father, the sin of murder that stained the hands he used to touch you, to make love to you; it was something he could never wash away. It nearly sickened him how he could use such vulgar hands to engage in such sensualities with something so pristine.
“Look at me.” His amber eyes glistened with a warm gold that seemed to gleam with an intensity comparable to only the brightest stars. Attentive and deeply focused in the way he looked at you. His other hand rustled against yours, splaying your fingers to intertwine them with his. “I love you.”
Your breath caught in your chest, suddenly devoid of all thought and incapable of expression. “You… you what?” Without thinking, your hand tightened in his.
“I love you.”
Silence. Heavy and palpable in the stillness of the room. You tried, but your mouth could not form a single word. Your head felt warm and fuzzy as if you’d been suddenly overcome with a bout of fever.
He twined his hand into your hair and pressed his forehead to yours. “I think you are more important to me than you realize. I am deeply grateful to be able to call you mine. You are now and always have been, an unyieldingly brilliant person. There are so many facets of you that I have had the privilege of indulging in, so many that adore, but none more than the patience and adoration you show for me, in spite of all the wrong I’ve done. So you can be assured that when I tell you that I love you; that I have meticulously considered what it means to me, and that I would be incapable of telling you if it were not true.”
Your lips pressed against his, firm and unmoving, but not particularly sensual. Several errant tears streamed down the sides of your face. ‘I love you.’ The words replayed over and over in your head. Love. You hadn’t given much consideration to what would grant him the capability of reciprocating the sentiment. Knowing he’d grown up in an environment that lacked the security to develop the foundation necessary to comprehend love in a normal way, you had envisioned the long road ahead of affirming the security of the love you had for him without the assurance of his love for you. But his sudden admission took you aback and sent you reeling and dizzy through a slew of different emotions. “Thank you, thank you for telling me. thank you for meaning it.” You wiped your tears with the back of your hand before leaning over to kiss him again. “I love you, too.”
His hands found your waist, but you could feel the restraint in his touches. As though he were a bit uncomfortable proceeding with anything further. The haunting chill of cruel reality continued to afflict him even in the light of his vulnerability, a newfound fear that you would become wise to his depravity and no longer return such tender feelings of devotion.
Without needing to be asked, you adjusted to a less suggestive position, as if silently assuring him you weren’t going to push him just to fill your needs. Dio leaned into you with his head on your shoulder while you brushed your fingers through a few wayward strands of his flaxen hair as he traced his fingers over the pattern of your knuckles “You should know, I had not cried in seven years, yet since I have known you and now I have done so twice. I am not sure what I should make of that.”
“Love, it isn’t good to bottle up your emotions, it won’t make them go away.” You said as you combed his bangs out of his face and kissed his cheek. “They’ll find a way out eventually, one way or another, trust me, I know. You never have to hide from me.”
“So it seems, but I have never been one for sentimentalities.”
You covered his hands with yours “Dio, I love you, I love you so much, you know that, right? You are precious to me, I hate seeing you hurt, and I hate that you had to endure such things. You were just a baby, you didn’t deserve what happened to you. If there’s anything I can do to make it better, I’ll do it for you.”
He brought the back of your hand to his lips and kissed it gallantly. “Well, perhaps there are a few sentimentalities of which I’m fond.” He admitted as he nuzzled deeper into your shoulder.
“Dio, let’s make our own Christmas traditions, we can do them together, tomorrow and every year after. Just ours, no one else’s.” He didn’t say anything, but kissed you with an uncharacteristic prudence. “But for now, why don’t we bake the gingerbread? We can decorate them together, too.”
You got up from the couch and offered him your hand. He accepted it and allowed you to help him to his feet. He hesitantly put his arm around you, still indecisive in his touches, no matter how readily you accepted them. But he was content to keep you at his side as you returned to your station in the kitchen. You set out an array of differently shaped cookie cutters and began pressing them into the dough; hearts, stars, wreaths, angels, reindeer, and various other animals. You handed him one and nudged him to participate. Reluctantly, he picked up the one shaped like an angel and pushed the metal stamp into the dough. You giggled and pressed the heart-shaped cookie cutter into the space next to his. “This one is for us.” You crooned and stepped on your tiptoes to kiss his cheek. After a soft hum, he put the tray in the oven and embraced you in the same way he had the first time, the trepidation just as evident now as it was back then. “Thank you; for loving me.”
“Thank you for letting me.” You draped your arms smoothly over his shoulders and let your head rest against his chest. With a sigh let go of some of the insecurities that he’d rebuilt after a visit to one of his harder-to-swallow memories and felt himself wholly in the present. How wonderful it felt to be loved, to be so wanted, so needed, so adored, so safe. The tribulations of his youth had hardened him and made him cold. He had considered it necessary for his survival and never questioned if it had been the right way to be, but with you in his arms, he thought, perhaps it was softness he’d been looking for all along.
With the cookies finished and properly cooled, you began packing them into small white boxes while Dio finished cleaning the last of the mess of dishes you'd made.
Several boxes were packed and carefully tied with red and green ribbons, each meticulously counted and arranged. Dio observed you as you sat at the table writing small notes on cut pieces of card stock in your very characteristic swooping, bouncy handwriting. Each one contained a varied message of well-wishes for the holidays accompanied by small doodles. He wondered what would possess a person to undergo so much work for seemingly no reward, you weren’t exactly close with any of these people, he had lived with you for over a month and not once had anyone stopped by for even a casual visit, and yet there you were going out of your way to do something nice. How gentle and kind he thought you were, if not a trifle silly. But how well he’d come to know those ways since knowing you. To him, kindness had been a luxury, but to you it was second nature.
“Alright, it’s getting late, I should deliver these before it gets too dark, would you like to come along?” You asked, gesturing to the boxes.
“I don’t know how you intend to carry all of these yourself if I didn’t”
“That's a good point, I guess that’s another reason I need you around.” You smiled, tousling his hair and giving him a peck on the cheek. He scoffed, but let his fingers trace down your arm as you pulled away from him. You treated him so strangely, so different from the way others had. You treated him like he was normal. As though none of the bad things had ever happened.
He gathered most of the boxes and the two of you set off on your outing. Before leaving, you took two boxes for the two neighbors in your building and set them by each of their front doors.
“Tell me, dear, do you even know your neighbors?” He asked, cocking his head over the stack of boxes in his arms.
“Not particularly well, but it’s nice to spread a little joy this time of year.” You replied, pointing him in the direction of your next destination, “and besides, it can be an apology gift, since I’m sure they haven’t gotten much sleep lately on account of someone.”
“Darling, I’ve told you that I cannot be held responsible for the unladylike sounds you make.”
You grumbled under your breath, wanting to assure him that he was, in fact, responsible, but you knew it would be pointless to try and argue. So you carried on and made stops at the homes of your regular tailor, the owners of the bookshop, and even your boss. Each of them expressed their gratitude and exchanged well-wishes for the new year, and each one came with an invitation to their respective holiday plans, all of which you rejected graciously in favor of spending a quiet evening with Dio. He couldn’t help but feel a pang of jealousy as he looked on, watching others admire you, selfishly he wanted it all for himself. Your venerable spirit and generosity were qualities he thought more befitting the lines of some great fictional elegy rather than wrapped softly in the skin and bones of a mere human.
The last stop you had to make was to your landlord, Mrs. Marmalade, her home was a further walk and you couldn’t very well leave it at her office, so you made the journey anyway. You walked up the sloping path to her family estate, inside it was alive with a party. When you knocked one of her sons answered the door. “Well, it’s you, to what do we owe the occasion?” He asked clearly a few drinks into the evening
“Oh, nothing big, just some Christmas cookies for you and your family.”
“Well, thank you~” He emphasized the last word good-heartedly, clearly he was more than a few drinks into the evening.
“And, if you could please give this to your mom.” You pulled out an envelope from your jacket pocket and handed it to him. “Please make sure she gets it, it’s next month’s rent”
“Oh sure, it won’t be a problem.” He slurred, wishing you a good night before heading back into the house.
You let out a sigh of relief as you returned to Dio’s side. Finally empty-handed he secured his arm around your waist and pulled you close to him, unwilling to let you get too far away in the darkness of the evening. “What an eventful day this has been.” He remarked, feathering a kiss against your temple.
“Most definitely, now let’s go home, tomorrow is Christmas after all.” The sway of your hips against his seemed all the more fitting under the light of the waning moon as he held you beside him the entire walk home. The chilly sky had been flecked with stars in the clear of the winter sky. Though you had long outgrown such fanciful fairytales, Christmas always seemed to retain the splendor it had in your youth.
The rest of the evening was spent finishing the decorations, glossy ribbons, sparkling candles, and other fancies were hung on the boughs of the tree, perhaps not as elegant as it could have been, but it felt like home. Dio looked at you curiously when decided to wear a pair off Christmas pajamas covered in a bright, gaudy print, his expression slipped into an amused smile upon deciding it was rather cute on you.
Finally, with night fully underway, you crawled into bed in a desperate need of rest. Dio took solace in the way your sleepy body sprawled against his. The reaffirmation of your loving touches helped him to relinquish his inhibitions and caress the sides of your body. Still, he made no motion to be physically intimate that night, feeling the need to bask in the emotional intimacy you provided him. You quelled your jarring need to consummate the newly ascribed meaning of your relationship. As badly as you wanted him, you restrained yourself for his sake. It wouldn’t be right if he didn’t want to. There would be other times. He had other needs at present.
Serenity washed over his face as you nestled against him. Having you in his arms had been an unprecedented security he was often too proud to admit to. That night in particular, he pulled you closer than he ever had, holding you as tightly in his arms as he felt he was allowed, you are precious to him too.
Notes:
This might be the most vile thing I've ever written. I am so sorry.
Man, I love my little fictional guy. Can't wait to write him experiencing the horrors!The 'flashback' if you can call it that, is heavily inspired by the structure of Faulkner's The Sound and the Fury which I was reading back when I wrote this. I really loved the fragmented, discontinuous way that time is expressed in the novel. Perhaps a bit experimental, but I found the stream of consciousness style quite fitting in this instance and wanted to try my hand at it. I hope I did the style and subject justice.
I know we don't get a lot of in canon details on exactly the kind of abuse Dio suffered, but for him to turn out the way he did, you know it was awful And I wanted to work in the idea of scars, physical and metaphorical, because I feel it's such an important symbol of his character especially given the physical scar where his head is connected to Jonathan's body in Stardust Crusaders. Obviously, we won't be getting that in this universe, but I still wanted to incorporate the idea in some way.
Again, we don't actually know what Dio's mom looked like, but in my head they share quite a resemblance. Especially since we know he didn't get his physical qualities from Dario,
only is propensity to anger and unhealthy relationship with alcohol.I just adore writing his feelings and making him oh-so soft. :')
I hope you enjoyed this update. (is it possible to enjoy such a reprehensible chapter?) Next time, we finally get to celebrate Christmas! I promise it will be much more pleasant than whatever this was.
Chapter 20: Please Come Home For Christmas
Notes:
Oh boy, it's the Christmas Special!!
I hope you enjoy this much sweeter chapter after last week's punishment of a chapter.
(See the end of the chapter for more notes.)
Chapter Text
~Christmas Day, 1888~
“Merry Christmas, Dio.” Your voice cut through his dreams and woke him from sleep. He opened his eyes to find you standing at the side of the bed, looming over him with a knit blanket thrown over your head and shoulders in a crude likeness of the Ghost of Christmas Yet To Come. You leaned halfway onto the bed and pressed a kiss against his forehead.
“Merry Christmas, my dear.” He responded and pulled you fully on top of him and let the blanket fall to the floor when you stood. “To what do I owe the pleasure of being visited by such a kindly little sprite?” He purred as he kissed lightly along your neck.
“Think of it as a Christmas miracle. Perhaps a taste of what’s to come.” You drew out the last words in a lyrical hum as you nuzzled into the crook of his shoulder. “Have you given any thought about what you’d like to do today?”
“Hmm, I’m not quite sure.” He raised his forefinger to his lower lip in an act of contemplation, “perhaps this.” He pulled you firmly against him and trailed several messy kisses over your face.
“Rather forward, don’t you think?” You laughed, rocking against him slightly. In spite of your casual admonishment, you were more than willing to let him have you all day if he chose to.
“Not just this,” he said, cupping your sex softly over your pajama bottoms. “I was merely suggesting spending the entire day here, with you… but if that’s what you want, perhaps I could oblige your wishes.” He massaged you lightly through the fabric of your pajama pants, last night’s hesitation still creeping in the back of his mind, but his physical desires began to take hold, and especially seeing you eager to engage him in such intimacies, he shook off his lingering uncertainties and buried them away. “After all, you have been such a good girl, perhaps you deserve a present.” He captured you in a deep kiss, almost overwhelmed by the fire that seemed to burn against his lips. More urgently did he kiss you while his fingers traced the hem of your waistband.
“Later.” You said through a breathy exhale as you broke this kiss. “I have a surprise for you, follow me.” You took his hand and led him into the kitchen where the table had already been set and breakfast made. “Ta-da, my dad’s famous double chocolate chip pancakes, a Christmas morning essential!”
“All of this for me?”
“Of course, all for you.” You replied with a gentle kiss. “And this.” You placed two gifts wrapped in shiny, bright red paper in his hands. “But those are for after breakfast.”
“This appears to be far closer to a dessert than it is to a breakfast.” He said as he cut into the pasty before him.
“Hey, it’s Christmas!”
“Are you planning on using that as justification for everything today?”
“I do indeed.”
“Well, as they say, when in Rome…”
“That’s the spirit!” You exclaimed brightly while patting him on the back.
Gingerly, he took a tiny bite of his breakfast. It was sweet, very sweet, one of the sweetest things he’d ever eaten. It left him wondering if this is what Americans truly consider a suitable breakfast, but it was undeniably good, and you seemed to enjoy watching him eat it. Your sweet face, aglow with delight as you laughed and recounted several pleasant stories of Christmases during your childhood. Dio enjoyed listening to the tales you told about your life, he’d begun to piece together a picture of the 21st century. He liked knowing that he was the only person privy to such information.
By the time breakfast had been finished and cleared away, the morning had already given way to the afternoon and the dull winter sky had been covered with a sheet of misty white clouds that the golden sun could not break through. The quiet streets added to the eerily reticent atmosphere that made staying inside an even more attractive prospect. Dio made an attempt to move your festivities elsewhere, but before he could do anything else you produced a sprig of mistletoe and, in holding it above your head, you instructed him to kiss you.
“I do not need a plant to kiss you.” He scoffed, defiantly pressing his lips onto yours.
“Maybe not, but it’s the rules, so you have to.”
“I will do a lot more than kiss you.” He sneered as his lips curled into that devilish smirk you’d come to adore as more endearing than crude.
“Yeah?” You responded in feigned protest as he pulled you into a rough kiss. His tongue searched for entry into your mouth, which you meagerly afforded him after feeling his arm curl around your waist. A subtle moan slipped past your parted lips which only served to entice him further.
“Oh, I intend to, in fact,” with one motion he ensnared you in his arms and carried you to the couch. “I think we should pick up where we left off.” He was covering you in hot, messy kisses as he tugged the hem of your pajama pants down past your thighs.
“Dio,” you panted, nearly out of breath already, “curtains!”
Reluctantly, he got up and drew the curtains to the picture window closed. Returning, he kneeled on the floor between your knees and pulled your pajama pants completely off of you. He roughly spread your legs and dotted several firm kisses along the length of your inner thigh, sinking his teeth into the soft flesh more than once. More than pleased by the many eager whines he was able to coax from you with such minimal effort. “Such loveliness, and how fortunate am I that it is only afforded to me?”
He took a moment to appreciate your pussy which was already glistening with need. He traced his tongue gently along the crux of your sex to savor the taste, the action reminded him that you did indeed belong to him.
“Dio!” you moaned, lacing your fingers in his hair, guiding him towards your eager clit. Without hesitation, he obliged your needs, it was Christmas after all, and you had been so terribly good. Lightly he swirled the tip of his tongue over your clit, enjoying how even the slightest touch caused your entire body to jerk forward in pleasure; how easy it was for him to unravel you, he couldn’t help but adore it. “Dio, please, it feels so good. Don’t stop!” You squealed unceremoniously, hips were already squirming against him, begging for further contact.
He roughly grabbed your legs and threw them over his shoulders, yielding to your desire for closeness. You could feel a muffled hum escape his lips as he pressed a firm kiss onto your clit before letting his tongue glide between your folds. He shut his eyes, almost losing himself while he took in your heady mewls and the intoxicating taste of you on his lips as his tongue lapped broad strokes against you. He gripped your hips to pull you even closer to him, teasing inside of you as your hips rolled against him, then venturing to your clit and enveloping the tender bud between his lips and sucking ever so gently while his tongue delicately swirled rhythmic, scrawling patterns in tandem. The intensity had become far too great, your core filled with an extraordinary heat, sending you careening over the shaky edge you’d been riding since the moment he began. Your shrill, vulgar screams filled the room, in a frantic attempt to ride out your orgasm you clutched at the handful of his hair, pulling it more violently than you’d intended. Feeling the tension in the strands, you quickly released your grip out of fear of hurting him and instead patted the back of his head restrainedly. “Dio— yes!” You groaned, all your words had been muddled after having been rendered to such a frenzied state; your shaking body was left feeble as he pulled you into his arms.
“Satisfied?” He asked as he combed his fingers through your disheveled hair.
“I-I think you’re too good at that.” You sighed, slack against him while he kissed your forehead as you attempted to make yourself decent.
“Perhaps, but you seem to reap the benefits of my tremendous skill.”
“Cocky bastard,” you said and rolled your eyes as you all but melted into his tender touches.
“Now, would you like your Christmas present?” He offered, though his hands continued to rove over your body, reverently and intimately.
“You’re saying that wasn’t my present?” You said with a sardonic giggle as you sprawled out on his lap with a pleased grin across your face.
“That was because I love you.”
The reminder made your entire body feel warm and safe. He had not said it since the night before, so this causal reinforcement made you feel all the more assured. Truly, his expression of love to you had been more than a sufficient gift.
Without waiting for you to respond, he got up from his seat and retrieved a small present wrapped in green paper and tied tightly with a gold ribbon.
“Dio, you really didn’t have to get me anything.”
“You got something for me, did you not?”
“Yeah, but—”
“The lady doth protest too much, methinks.” He kissed you lovingly and placed the gift in your lap.
It was wrapped so prettily that you almost felt bad tearing the paper to open it, but his eyes remained transfixed on you until you complied. You tediously untied the ribbon so as to not ruin it and hesitantly ripped away the paper to find a beautiful copy of Little Women hidden beneath. “Dio… when did you, how did you?”
“I’ve told you before, I listen to everything you say, and you mentioned this book was important to you, so I decided you should have it, and, after you’ve read it, I can as well, and see why it means so much to you.”
You embraced him tightly, your arms clung firmly around his shoulders. “Thank you, Dio, this is incredibly special, I can’t believe you did this for me, I can’t believe you remembered.”
He pulled you onto his lap and into a kiss that overflowed with adoration. “Think better of me, my dear. After all, I do love you.”
Your face gleamed with delight as you rested against him and eagerly paged through the book, getting caught in your fond rosy-colored remembrances. “Oh, it’s your turn! I almost forgot!” You rushed back to the table and brought him the gifts that you had gotten for him “It isn’t much, really.”
Carefully he tore back the paper on the first package to reveal a copy of Tolstoy’s Anna Karenina “Hm, this seems rather interesting.” He mused, admiring the binding.
“I-I thought you would find it interesting and I hope the translation is good enough. I had to read it in high school, but I don’t think I appreciated it as much as I should have, perhaps it was a bit above my pay grade at the time, but you’re so intelligent and well-spoken that—"
“Stop talking, you don’t have to explain everything, I love it.” He said with a stern affectation and pressed his lips into yours. “Now then, shall we see what else you have gotten me?”
“D-don’t expect anything too fancy, I didn’t have a lot of time…”
You held your breath when you heard the paper tearing as he opened the next gift. “Did you make this?” He asked, holding a red, yellow, and green knit scarf.
“Y-yeah, I’m not very good at it, and I had to unravel one of my sweaters to get the wool, but when we were in the snow you didn’t have a scarf and it’s getting cold so…”
He kissed you again. This time, far more softly than before. “I told you that you do not have to explain everything.” He offered you a smile far sweeter than any you’d ever seen and began wrapping the scarf around his neck. He was pleased to find that it still smelled faintly of your perfume. “This is a very special gift” He wrapped his arms around your waist. Fiddling with the end of the scarf, he noticed a small patch where you’d embroidered his name accompanied by a heart in shiny gold floss. “You are more than generous and more than dear to me.” He made an attempt to draw you into his arms, but to his dismay, you pulled away with a sheepish look of apprehension.
“Wait.” You said, standing to your feet. “I have one more thing for you.” With a degree of discomposure, you grabbed something off the bookshelf and hid it behind your back sheepishly. “I hope this doesn’t seem too forward, but… here. This is for you.” You breathed uneasily as you placed the item in his hand.
“Is this… a spare key?” he asked, holding the key between his thumb and forefinger.
“Yes, I had it made so you aren’t just stuck here all day while I’m at work… and so you know that this is your home too.”
“I’m afraid this all makes my gift feel a trifle inadequate by comparison.” He said as he shook his head and placed the key on the coffee table. He then made a move to loop his arm around your waist to pull you on top of him.
“Not at all!” You replied in zealous protest, hugging the book tightly to your chest. “This means so much to me, I’ll treasure it always!” Obviously pleased by your response, he placed this thumb under your chin and guided you to him for a sensual kiss, his other hand laid gingerly against your hip. “In fact, if you’d like, I suggest that we spend the rest of the day here wrapped romantically in each other's arms, just reading together.” You emphasized your words carefully as you snuggled into him. “And then later, maybe I can find a way to thank you properly for such a wonderful present.” You whispered into his ear, gently biting the outer edge playfully.
He rolled his hips into yours and grabbed your face in his hand, forcing you to look at him. “Such a bold proposition and rather unladylike, though I suppose any inclination toward proper etiquette has been long abandoned.” He pressed against you once more, sucking into one of the fading marks on your neck. “But I dare say it is an incredibly satisfactory suggestion, my dear girl.”
As such, the rest of the afternoon was spent with you cuddled against one another wordlessly reading until you made an ineffectual attempt at seduction.
“You know, I find the literature of this time terribly fascinating.” Dio offered no response except to vaguely raise his eyebrow. “Even before I wound up here, I mean, I was always so fascinated by anything even loosely Victorian, I feel that, in a way, it’s a deeply contradictory period in history.”
“Is that so?” He mused indifferently, not even venturing to look up from his book.
“Oh yes, putting the scientific discoveries aside, just think of the moral expectations, I mean, from my perspective at least, the 19th century has always seemed somewhat puritanical, at least compared to when I grew up of course. But the thing is, it’s only just an ideal, the reality is vastly different. Perhaps they aren’t as unalike as they seem. There’s an expectation of propriety, at least in public, but in private… have you ever read Daisy Miller?”
“I have not.” He responded, nonchalantly flipping the page, still leaving you fighting for his attention.
“Oh, well it’s very interesting, it shows how the flirtatious young American, Daisy Miller clashes against the rigidity of a more conservative European society, and yet the narrator, with his more austere English upbringing, can’t help but be enamored with her.”
“I see. How familiar; it must be an American quality.” That earned you a smirk.
“Perhaps, but I think it’s more a discussion on girlhood and societal reluctance to accept different roles for women in the public sector, rather than simply relegated to the private sector in favor of maintaining the status quo, a society that allows men their youthful transgressions whilst simultaneously punishing women for the same.”
“And your point is?”
“That it’s fun to be a slut and both men and women should be allowed to partake equally.”
He rolled his eyes but finally shut his book with a loud snap. “Was all of this an elaborate ruse to get me into bed?”
“If it was, would it have worked? You must admit, it was some of my best work.” You met his gaze with a cheeky smile plastered gaudily on your face.
“You’ve certainly come a long way from nearly crying when you told me you weren’t a virgin, to begging me to treat you like a slut.” He narrowed his eyes at you with a playful scrutiny that easily slipped into eagerness. “But it's terribly fortunate for you that I have been distracted this entire time.”
“Does that mean it worked?” You asked slyly as you crept into his arms.
“Your inane display did little but solidify how impatient I already know you to be, but there is an undeniable charm to your crass behavior.”
“I’m hearing a lot of words but not a no.” You smirked, by now you’d already crawled your way into his lap.
“Hmm, if you’re in such a rush, perhaps I ought to have you right here.” He chided, matching the smirk on your face, gripping your hips to firmly set you in place.
“Perhaps you should.” You retorted as you attempted to roll your hips against him despite the constraint of his vice-like grip. “I want you to.” You murmured against the shell of his ear, feeling the way that he reciprocated your subtle movements as he began to grind against you. “Dio!” You whined through an airy gasp, your body jerked in anticipation when you felt him teasing beneath your waistband.
“Don’t play coy after you just asked for this.” He sneered, dipping his hand further.
“N-nothing coy about it.” You responded as you pulled back from him and slipped your shirt off before tossing it effortlessly to the floor.
He exhaled sharp and low when caught sight of your body; so soft and beautiful, so eager for him, and yet there was an innocence in the sweetness that all of your reaction carried. He trailed his hand up your waist, brushing slowly along the skin of your abdomen until he came to rest at your breast. That gnawing trepidation tightened in his stomach once again as he grazed his thumb across your nipple. You gave a soft groan from the contact that he knew was meant to urge him for more. He guided your breast to his mouth and lightly rolled his tongue across your nipple while his hand splayed across your back to keep you supported in his grasp. Your soft mewls filled his ears, only reaffirming that you wanted him, but the nauseating tension continued to claw at him from the inside. How could you ever be safe in his hands that were so capable of violence? His composure was jostled when he felt your lips fluttering against his neck, so plush and warm and ever inviting that he couldn’t help but groan as you began to unbutton his shirt.
Your hands wandered over his chest as you pushed his shirt down and cast it to the floor beside yours. “I’m ready, I want you.” You breathed as you shifted out of his grasp. He clicked his tongue as he watched you stand to your feet and pull down your pajama pants. One of his hands massaged over your hip as he guided you back into his lap while the other dipped between your legs and coated his fingers in your wetness before venturing to your clit. “Take your pants off.” You groaned as you precariously palmed over his cock, trying to keep yourself steady as his fingers swirled over your tender clit.
“Oh, my needy little nymph, are you already so impatient?” He asked as his fingers spread your folds and slipped into your slick cunt. “Was this morning not enough?”
“I… can’t help it.” You whimpered upon feeling his fingers curl into you.
“Of course, dear, how could you?” He purred, his lips twisting into a smirk as he one-handedly pushed his pants down. “The best you’ve ever had.” He snarled through his gritted teeth, declaring it as a statement rather than an inquiry.
“Easily!” You gasped, grinding against his hand as you maneuvered yourself over him, careful not to teeter off the shaky foundation his lap became under his convoluted motions.
His erection sprung free and immediately pressed firmly against his stomach. You rocked your hips lightly against him, feeling him twitch in preparation as a thin stream of precum dripped down the head of his cock. “Come here.” He growled as he took the base of his cock in one hand and roughly gripped the flesh of your hip with the other to lower you down onto him. His hesitations were thrown the moment he felt you spread around him.
This position proved much less forgiving than any other you’d previously attempted with him, the way he was stretching you felt almost impossible, you could feel as every inch of him sunk deeper into you. Your face twisted into a grimace as you tried to adjust to his size. “Dio…!” Strained, squeaky moans eked out of you between sharp exhales.
“Am I hurting you?” He asked as he stilled his movements and ghosted his hand over your side. “I can stop.”
“No!” You protested wildly as you held tightly to his shoulders. “I can take it, just please go slow.”
“We can go as slow as you need.” He said reassuringly and patted your arm gently as you continued to lower yourself slowly onto him. The sensation of your walls clamped so tightly around him caused him to groan involuntarily. “Fuck.” He whispered, moaning your name into your ear along with a flurry of praises. “Darling, you’re doing so well, you feel wonderful.”
Once you finally managed to take him completely, you leaned against his chest for leverage still adjusting to his size, this position offered little relief; you were made to feel every inch of him as he began slow, inhibited thrusts into you. His hands cemented themselves to your waist in restraint. At that moment Dio wanted nothing more than to mercilessly fuck you, to watch you writhe and scream his name as your hips slammed against him, but he thought better of it, watching you so tentatively begin to move against him, your chest heaving with each movement, he couldn’t allow himself to do anything that might hurt you. In all, he was a man who feared very few things and that which he did stayed well hidden from the sights of others, but the thought of harm coming to you; of something happening that may take you from him, was a fearsome prospect indeed. Never would he have thought himself capable of caring for a person outside of himself, let alone of feeling such a life-altering kind of love that left him sick at the notion that it may slip through his fingers. Even the caution in each of his touches surprised him. Sure, it had been easy to get you to fall in love with him, but uncertainty still lingered, one wrong step and those feelings could wash away like footprints in the sand. He knew that he could not face the world the way he had before.
All at once he buried his face against your shoulder and feathered tender kisses into the curve of your neck. You turned your head to offer him a better angle, silky mewls danced from your lips with each kiss as he trailed up to the line of your jaw. Each little noise you made only served to heighten his arousal. He placed one hand firmly against the small of your back to support you as his hips bucked into you without a clear rhythm, startled by how quickly he was reaching his peak.
In the need to make sure you came before he did, he allowed his free hand to find its way between your legs. “Would this be too much?” He asked, his hand mere millimeters above your sensitive clit.
“Do it.” You exhaled harshly in anticipation of the intense sensation. immediately he began rubbing his thumb quickly against your clit. you leaned your head back with a wonton sigh before falling against his chest, allowing him the perfect opportunity to once again trap your neck beneath his lips, sucking the tender skin until purple bruises formed, though ephemeral, he loved seeing the marks that formed on your skin from his affectionate efforts. It affirmed to him that you belonged to him, a tangible way for all to see that you were his.
The sensation had indeed proved to be nearly overwhelming as you spasmed jarringly against him, a heat rose from the tips of your toes and up through your body, between the way you’d been moaning against him and the tightness of your walls, he knew you were close, but everything reaction you offered him only brought him closer to the edge as well. “I need you to cum for me,” he groaned, pressing his thumb directly against your clit. You nodded, struggling to keep your hips straight as his ministrations continued. “Cum for me.” He repeated as he pulled you in for a messy kiss, his tongue immediately plunging into your mouth the moment your lips met his.
You threaded your fingers through his hair, gripping tightly to his silky golden locks as you came, breaking the kiss only to scream his name with a sordid passion, finally burying your face in his chest as the electricity subsided.
With a loud grunt, he forced you down onto him, pressing as deep as he could, finally cumming inside of you, his hips still rocking against you as he rode out his orgasm. He embraced you tightly, his cock still buried inside you. “That was amazing,” he groaned, keeping you in his arms and refusing to let you go for several minutes, “you took me so well.”
You nodded feebly but enjoyed the delightful feeling of his strong arms wound so tightly around you with enamor. When he finally allowed you to get up you felt sticky with sweat coating your body and his cum pooled between your legs. “Come now, dear, let’s wash up before dinner.” You had only managed to recover a bit of strength before he dragged you to the shower.
This time the water was warm and the steam enveloped you both as Dio lathered your body with your sweet vanilla soap in a way that left you feeling rejuvenated. You watched intently as he washed his own body, you couldn’t help but stare in wonder at his magnificent physique. Stunning was perhaps the most accurate way to describe his glorious attributes, no matter how many times you’d been allowed to view him so intimately, he still left you awestruck by his beauty. His features, so sharp and rigid, a formidable kind of beauty that was unapologetically emphatic in its display. But for all his careful vanity there was something undeniably meek restrained in the honesty of his mannerisms that he only ever expressed with you.
“You act as though this is something you haven’t seen before.” He said with a smirk.
“I’m just admiring.” You said, perhaps a bit more defensively than needed. “I don’t know if I tell you enough, just how beautiful you are.” You mused, embracing him now as the tepid water trickled against your back. Your hands roved over his body, tracing the stark definition in his muscles, then trailing your fingers along his sharp jaw and up to the trio of birthmarks that adorned his ear. “And I mean every part of you,” you said as you grazed your fingertips ever so gently over the scar on his arm. “This too,” you affirmed with a kiss. “Every part of you, that includes the uneven and imperfect parts, every single facet of you is unfathomably beautiful to me.” He held you tighter, wordlessly looking into your eyes and if they held some kind of answer he’d long been searching for. “I’ve told you before, Dio Brando, that I want every part of you, the good, the bad, the complicated, the things you’ve never shown anyone else, I want it all.”
“That’s a substantial thing to ask.”
“I don’t expect it all at once, I will take whatever you’re willing to share with me and when, just know that I will support you through it all, all of my love will always be within reach.”
“I love you, my dear little angel.”
Few words were spoken as dinner was prepared. Dio had planned a rather traditional meal for Christmas consisting of a brined goose served with a chestnut stuffing and several other side dishes you’d have considered more appropriate for Thanksgiving, but you chalked it up to cultural differences and excitedly accepted the meals he served you. You were always surprised to find him a rather good cook. Meat was an exceptional rarity, far too expensive to have regularly and nearly impossible to store, so it always felt special the few times you were able to have it. Dio privately regretted having drunk the remainder of the wine the day prior, it would have been preferable to share it over dinner, but the loving way your fingers traced over the back of his hand kept him from dwelling too long on the matter. “I love you.” He said again, this time with greater vehemence. “I truly do. More than anything else that I've had the pleasure of calling mine.”
“And I love you as well. Always, okay?”
No more words were spoken between the two of you as the table was cleared and dishes cleaned, even the ritual of preparing for bed was completed wordlessly. It wasn’t until you were safely in bed and your body once again twined with his that he spoke again.
“I love you.” He whispered repeatedly, his breath was hot against your skin and his hips rolled into you as he tenderly made love to you once again. It was a softness you hadn’t yet experienced from him except in this singularly unique instance. While the sex was always more than satisfying, it was rarely what you would consider loving. Dio showed you his more tender affections in the moments after ravaging you or during simple domestic interactions. Sex was used as a time for him to engage in his more carnal impulses; fucking you, claiming you. A conquest to have all of you for himself, to remind both you and himself that you were undeniably his and his alone. It also served as a way for him to vent his frustrations in a way he deemed acceptable. Your body had become a vessel for all his pent-up emotions that he’d been too reluctant, perhaps even too afraid to share, but you accepted him both diligently and gladly.
The contrast that this particular encounter offered was startling. His feather-light touches overwhelmed your senses with prickling shocks that caused your toes to curl. Your entire body felt warm and loved in a way you had never experienced before, with him or with anyone else. Your hands roamed into his hair and your body pressed off the mattress to meet him in languid romantic bliss. He doted over your body with an abundant sensuality, worshiping every curve in admiration for how well you formed around him. Praisingly, he pressed messy kisses along your neck and chest, endlessly affirming his love for you. He knew well that he could never go back to the way his life was before you were his.
Notes:
Oh, the boy is so in love, he doesn't even know what to do with himself.
Lots of book discussion for the book lovers. I read Anna Karenina for the first time this year at it really was worth the read; but nothing will stop my head canon that Dio likes 1000 page Russian novels. I just know his pretentious ass would eat up Dostoevsky. Originally, I wanted to make reader give him The Brother's Karamazov because I think the themes are a bit more pertinent, but I found out that it wasn't translated into English until the 1890s, so I went with Anna Karenina which still deals with themes of unhappy families so it's fine.
My vegetarian ass struggled to write the dinner portion, describing Victorian food is difficult enough, but I am incredibly ill-equipped to write about meat of any kind. I kinda borrowed it from one of favorite Sherlock Holmes stories, The Adventure of the Blue Carbuncle, which does in fact take place at Christmas.
Also, if you've ever wanted to learn to knit, consider this your sign! I taught myself last autumn and it was so easy to learn!
I just wanted to thank you guys for all the love on the last chapter. It was something quite different for me and I wasn't sure how it would be received. That is to say, I wasn't sure if it was communicated on the page like it was in my head, but you were all so lovely! I'm glad that I was able to do such a difficult subject the justice it deserves. So really, thank you all from the bottom of my heart. Posting this story has been such a wonderful experience and I'm so glad I made the choice to do so this past spring.
Chapter 21: California Dreamin'
Chapter Text
The end of December brought with it overcast skies and a cold rain that seemed unrelenting. The rain had melted all that remained of the snow and kept most people in their homes for several days. The air of late December seemed to pull you into a quasi-stasis where even time seemed a mere figment, one devoid of comprehensible meaning as each grey day blurred into the next with an endless slush of unpleasant weather that obscured any chance of sunshine. Luckily, you and Dio always found some way to occupy the time during this brief moment of respite before your inevitable return to work. This usually consisted of reading quietly together or Dio fucking you on any surface he could manage to push you onto or up against.
On this particular day, it was the latter.
It had all begun that morning.
After the third day of icy rain, you had begun to go a bit stir-crazy; the gloomy skies seemed to mock you each time sleet tapped against your frosty windows. Too warm for snow yet far too cold and wet to even entertain the prospect of venturing out of doors. So long had it had seemed since you’d been able to escape the confines of your flat that you began to pine for the warmth and color of spring. So on this particular morning, you dug out an old sundress with a vibrant floral print that you had fashioned the summer previous and matched it with a rather impractical pair of white heels that had been intended for the holiday dinner you’d been whisked away from two years ago and were perhaps less fitting with the gauzy summer dress you’d donned, but nonetheless served to evoke the liveliness of summer you’d been so desperate to convey. If the weather outside was not going to cooperate, you were at least going to play pretend inside.
The sundress hung loosely over your frame; you had never been able to get the measurements correct, but by all accounts, it had served its purpose of keeping you from the blaring summer heat when a surprise drought had plagued the area. Even still, since you had only been able to wear it in the privacy of your home you hadn’t paid much mind to the awkward and uneven stitching that caused the straps to slip from your shoulders as you twirled into the kitchen where Dio sat glancing over the newspaper at the table.
“Are you planning on wearing that out?” Dio scoffed, casting a snide look your way but defiantly turning to a new page. After the many weeks he’s spent with you, he was more used to your funny appearance and rather improper taste in clothes, but this was quite too much, even for you.
“No, I plan on wearing it in today, while I dream of how lovely it would be to be sprawled out on a beach somewhere in Cape Cod wearing next to nothing with the sun on my skin, surrounded by the smell of salty air and sunscreen.”
You made quite a show as you spun around dramatically and watched the effortless sway of the dress as it flowed about your hips. The vigor of your little display jostled your balance, so you grabbed at the edge of the table for support as you shook off the dizzying feelings. All the movement had inadvertently caused the strap of your dress to slip down your shoulder, revealing your bare breast.
Dio exhaled sharply and carelessly folded the newspaper that hadn’t been able to properly hold his attention since you’d came into view. He abandoned it on the table in exchange for something that held his attention far better than the unimportant goings on of the city. “I could assist in the wearing next to nothing part of your little fantasy.”
With a gentlemanly bow, he stood up and took your hand in a romantic gesture and spun you around gallantly until you were secured in his arms. You felt his cock twitch as you brushed against him, but it went unspoken as he softly swayed you to a nonexistent melody. His hand travelled up the hem of your dress, tracing a direct line up your thigh. “Oh… what a little tart.” Upon feeling your lack of panties, he ran his fingers over your bare cunt, the abrupt sensation elicited a sigh from you. “Did you expect me not to take notice of this?” He asked, cocking his head to one side as one of his fingers found its way inside of you.
“Dio!” The sudden intrusion caused you to gasp.
“Is this what you’d been planning from the start?” He asked viciously, his finger roaming deeper inside you and curling against your slick walls.
Your back arched and he used this opportunity to tighten his arm around your waist while using another finger to spread you further. “It might’ve been.” You jeered, unwilling to give him the satisfaction of unraveling you so easily, but still, you leaned into his touches greatly, more than satisfied with the outcome.
“Well then, if you’re going to act like a slut, I’m going to have to fuck you like one.” His voice was dark, nearly menacing in timbre, even the touch of his hands felt chilled as he pulled away from you at a tedious pace.
You heard the clink of his belt as he freed himself from his pants, one hand generously stroked his erection while the other held up your dress just enough to offer him an unobstructed view of your dripping cunt, so needy for connection. “Stunning.” He whispered under his breath as his tongue dragged across his lower lip.
He pulled you against him and teased the tip of his cock along your sex, threatening to enter you at any moment, you whined in response, desperate to feel more of him. He, however, refused to indulge you in the sensation, instead prolonging your desire by slipping his hand under your dress and coating his fingers in your arousal to draw slow circles against your clit. “Now, now, patience my sweet thing.” His touch was surprisingly gentle given the vague threats he’d proposed.
You eased against the skillful ministrations of his fingers, giving into the pleasure with a moan. “Ah, Dio, that feels so good!”
His lips twisted into a smirk, his breath was hot against your ear in contrast to the cool malevolence of his words. “I think I have the perfect idea for today.” The tip of his cock prodded your entrance with shallow thrusts, you whined, longing for the feeling of being filled by him, already nearly coming undone by the work of his fingers.
“Dio, I need to cum” You moaned, leaning your head back into his chest. You felt as though your knees may give out from the tension.
“You need to?” He questioned as his pace slowed to a near halt. “Is my dear girl being greedy again? You want to cum before I’ve even fucked you?”
“Yes… please…”
“Hmm, I’m deciding if you deserve to cum.” He sneered, removing his hand completely and spinning you around to face him. “Especially after this little display.” He pulled you in for a lustful kiss that left you weak in the knees. His hands caressed up your body before he abruptly broke the kiss and returned you to the position he found most advantageous, pressing you firmly against him and gliding his cock along your needy sex.
His hands stopped at the top of your dress, resting just beneath the nape of your neck, his fingers toyed with the flimsy fabric. “Dio…” Your voice was soft and airy, unable to conceal the desire you felt. “Tear it off me.”
His lips curled into the most devious smirk you’d ever seen him muster. With ease, the dress tore down the back with a loud rip. You shrugged the now useless material off your shoulders and it fluttered to the floor at your feet in a pool of garishly colored cotton. Left nearly naked before him, you attempted to step out of your heels, but he caught your arm before you could do so. “I think you should keep those on.” He instructed and he leaned you into your kitchen table before bending you over.
He took a second to appreciate the way you looked in this position before sinking completely into you with a husky grunt. One of his hands was placed on the back of your neck to hold you firmly in place against the table, the other roughly gripped your hip, his nails dug into your soft flesh as he set a comfortable rhythm for himself.
This position allowed him full control over your body, if you tried to move at all he would just push you back into place with the force of his hips alone. It also allowed him just the right angle to hit that spot he knew drove you wild, in a matter of minutes you were left with stars dancing in your eyes with each rough thrust into you, he enjoyed the beautiful mess he’d made you, always pleased at how easy it was to render you helpless to his touches. “Dio!” You screamed chest heaved against the table as you came, your hands mindlessly groping for anything to steady yourself.
There was a distinct metallic click of a key in a lock that had gone unheard amidst the sounds of the fervor in the kitchen.
In a moment your front door swung open and your landlord stepped in, the entire carnal scene laid out before her. “Good heavens!” She exclaimed, using her hand to block her eyes from the sinful display.
“For the love of… what are you… doing here?” You cried, desperately pushing yourself against the table in a weak attempt to cover yourself.
“Improper, vulgar, indecorous girl, how could you even think of doing something so obscene in my house, you-you-you little hussy!” Dumbfounded, she ran through a repertoire of reprimands, all the while she refused to make eye contact; her pince-nez clutched hazardously in one hand while the other was clamped over her face in disgust.
“Hey, this is my house, I pay you every month to live here, so what I do in my house and who I do it with, is my business and you can—” Before you could finish what would undoubtedly have been an ill-mannered castigation, far surlier than your already churlish retorts, Dio cupped his hand over your mouth to stop you. Flushed and chagrined, the realization of your current predicament set in as you picked up the shredded remainder of your dress and slid it on like a robe to cover what you could.
“Your house? Indeed, that is precisely what I’ve come to discuss with you.”
You felt a shiver run through you as though an icy hand had trailed its ghastly claws down your spine. “What, I’ve already paid, I—”
“Please, make yourselves decent so we can discuss this matter appropriately.” She snapped, gesturing vaguely with her hand.
“Alright, alright, just a minute.” You waved her off and hurried to your bedroom, not a shred of dignity left in your body. Looking back, you saw that the woman had turned to face the wall completely, her hand still covering her eyes.
What a fine mess indeed.
You collapsed on your bed with your face in a pillow and used it to muffle a hideous scream. Dio offered a hand on your shoulder “I feel like I’m a child again and I’m about to get a lecture from my parents.”
“You have not done anything wrong.” It was a flimsy kind of reassurance that did little to quell the fierce emotions that contorted in your stomach.
“I’m sure she’d frown upon it regardless, it’s just that I really do try my hardest to blend in to society, I have very few relationships because of that, I don’t want my peace to be ripped away from me, I fear she already thinks very little of me, I just don’t want trouble for us.”
“I can’t control how she thinks of you, or us for that matter, but I can assure you I will never let any harm come to you.” He declared as he handed you a dress he thought appropriate while he began to redress himself.
“Please, just let me handle it as best as I can, the fewer questions she asks, the better.”
Silently, he fastened your dress and brushed your hair back into place, leaving one tiny kiss at the nape of your neck. He had never seen such a dreadfully worried expression on your face. “Everything will be taken care of, I assure you.” He smoothed out your dress as a final act of consolation.
You emerged from your room utterly crestfallen, to find your landlord still standing in the same spot you’d left her in, only now she hesitantly looked at you with shame and indignation. “Won’t you have a seat, I’ll put on some tea?” You started, unable to muster a voice beyond a helpless whisper.
“Not at the table.” She sniped, turning her nose up at you scornfully.
“Oh, right.”
“The sitting room will do fine.” She declared and took a seat on the couch while you turned to make tea.
Dio cast a devious expression at you. “Not a word!” You mouthed with one hand on your hip.
When the tea was ready you brought a tray with three cups and some leftover cookies out to your guest, she allowed you to serve her as she sat idly. With great trepidation, you sat beside her on the couch while Dio sat in the remaining chair nearer the book shelf. “Now, the matter at hand.” She began and took a dainty sip of her tea. Her long, gloved fingers curled tightly around the handle of the teacup.
“I told you, I already paid for next month, I left the money with your son on Christmas Eve!” You interjected, though it was rude, you knew it would have little effect on her overall impression of you, so you attempted to speed the meeting up as best you could.
“The money is not the issue.” You watched her intently as she replaced the cup in its saucer with a porcelain clink, after which she folded her arms and adjusted her pince-nez in an industrious fashion. “It was brought to my attention that as of late you seem to have acquired a new lodger. Leaving aside the, shall we say, complaints from your neighbors, are you aware that it is a violation of your agreement to bring on any new lodgers not named in the signed agreement without express permission?”
“I… I didn’t— this wasn’t exactly planned!” You gritted your teeth, a sullen look on your face as you twisted the fabric of your dress in your fingers.
“Planned or not, it is a flagrant violation of our agreement, and as such, I cannot allow you to stay here under these circumstances.” Her voice was cold and unfeeling, she had every intention of evicting you on the spot.
“No please—”
“I presume you have a copy of the agreement that was signed.” Dio interrupted, his voice commanding and imperious.
“I certainly do.” Her tone was impetuous, she’d clearly been offended by his interjection.
“Then, I assume you would not have any objections to me taking a look over it. As I have recently completed a degree in law I should be more than capable of assessing the validity of these claims.” He smirked, arms folded loosely over his chest as he watched your expression of astonishment.
Mrs. Marmalade retrieved her bag and began rummaging through it to find the appropriate document.
“I told you to let me handle it.” You sneered at him.
“And you were doing a terrible job of it, so I will handle it, as you know I do have a law degree after all.”
“Well, this is the first I’ve heard of it.”
“Oh really,” he mused, an insufferably arrogant expression spreading across his face as he took the document handed to him. “I could’ve sworn I mentioned it before.” That smirk still adorning his face. “Now, do you remember signing this?” He asked quickly as his eyes skillfully scanned over the pages.
“Yes, two years ago.”
“Ah, well that should make things easier, I assume you read it thoroughly?”
“I didn’t read it at all.” You admitted sheepishly, forcing an insolent smile as you dug your nails into your palms.
That startled him and a cough got caught in his throat. “It is never a good idea to sign something without reading first.” He chastised, leaning his head in his hand to read the document more thoroughly.
“Dio, what other option did I have? It was either this or nothing, it didn’t matter what it said I would have signed no matter what.”
He let out a deep breath and furrowed his brow. “Next time, bring anything you have to sign to me first, I shall read it carefully for you.” There was a suave undertone to his voice, but you couldn’t help but cringe, that is exactly what your mother would’ve told you to do.
He read the document with punctilious scrutiny, making sure not a single word had been misread. “I see now,” he said as he got up and leaned over the older woman, tracing a particular passage with the tip of his finger. “Right here, it says specifically that she is not allowed to sublet to anyone without acquiring your permission, but it says nothing about housing a guest unless you are asserting that I am paying for my stay here in other ways.”
The woman averted her eyes from him, his gaze had become far too intimidating. For the briefest of moments she attempted to consider the notion in any meaningful capacity, but was unsuccessful. It seemed unlikely that something of that kind was the arrangement. Dio seemed far too dapper and respectable and his affair with you was likely a careless liaison born of youthful whims all too common in men of his age. “Regardless of the arrangement, it is still improper for a single woman to be living with a man.” She decreed with an upturned nose.
“Oh, I didn’t realize there was a clause here against impropriety?” Dio bit back, a slight vengefulness in his otherwise aloof tone.
“It is assumed that one will behave in a civilized, dignified manner, especially in a property that does not belong to them.”
“That's interesting because I do not see it in writing and so therefore it holds no merit. You can admonish her actions if you so choose, but your moral assessment holds no legal weight.”
“Well, I never!” She huffed, placing her hand on her chest.
“But if you still wish to pursue the matter, by all means, take it to court, I guarantee you will lose.” So confident and nonchalant did he speak, absolutely composed and brilliantly direct to a degree that felt clinically professional. He would make a formidable opponent under any circumstance, but you certainly wouldn’t want to be up against him in a courtroom. Briefly, you thought of how your parents might react, impressed, no doubt; perhaps a bit despondent that it wasn’t you.
Rudely, she snatched the document from his hand and read over the section herself. He was, to her dismay, entirely correct. “I will not have you being a nuisance to your neighbors. if the complaints persist I will terminate your lease, are we clear?”
Dio turned to you for approval with a slight widening of his eyes. “Yes, we’re clear.” You said, your voice still a little shaky.
“And I would like you to take a look at the radiators in the other units and we can consider this unfortunate encounter a wash.”
“That seems… reasonable.” You choked.
With that, the woman got up and took her leave, not even bothering to bid you farewell. She had no further business to attend to and certainly did not want to deal with any of yours. You may have been a bit of a thorn in her side, but a well-paying one. She felt for the nobleman whose son you must’ve cajoled into a relationship with your tawdry modern ideals and fragile constitution. But, if the arrangement resulted in your permanent vacation of her building then it would be rather favorable and she could more than turn a blind eye to the impish business done in private so long as it remained as such.
Once she had gone you slumped back onto the couch in relief. “Dio, that was amazing.” You sighed, throwing your arms around him in gratitude, thankful that everything had worked out in your favor.
“I promised no harm would come, did I not?” He eased you into his arms and ran his fingers through your hair.
“I am so glad that’s over, though I dare say, she’ll never be able to look me in the eyes again.”
“It was not exactly an ideal first meeting for me either, especially if you intend on living here long.”
“I haven’t even considered living anywhere else, I’m comfortable here.”
“Hmm, then I suppose we shall have to move past the awkwardness at some point.”
“Well, maybe she’ll have a newfound respect for me after she saw what I was getting. I mean, it is rather impressive and she's had seven children, so she must be at least somewhat familiar with the process.” You laughed heartily and threw your head back against his shoulders.
He rolled his eyes at you but offered a gentle caress. “I'm not sure I would count on it, but believe what you like.”
“God, I need a drink.” You groaned, your hand clasped tightly over your forehead.
“Might you settle for dinner?” He asked. “I will take you out.”
“Really? That sounds amazing, it’d be like a date!”
“Not like a date, it is a date, I still intend to treat you properly, even if I’m allowed to be so very improper behind closed doors.” He trailed his hand firmly along the length of your leg, settling it at your hip. “Now go get ready.”
Dinner was lovelier than you could’ve imagined, the restaurant was gorgeous, the food was amazing, and all of Dio’s charm and charisma were on full display the entire evening. Not just with you, but with everyone he interacted with. He asked the waiters several questions about the food, he seemed to know a great deal. Even the chef himself came out with a bottle of wine he thought would compliment your meals nicely.
“Fortune seems to have smiled upon you, my dear, would you like a drink?”
“Fortune wouldn’t happen to be named Dio Brando, would it?” You giggled, handing him your glass.
Sitting there with him like this you realized the duality that existed within him. He had such an affable disposition; his personality was unquestionably enchanting, if you hadn’t known the darkness within him that lurked just beneath the surface, you wouldn’t have believed him capable of anything foul. It was that contradictory nature of his that had been so enticing in the first place.
He poured the wine, watching intently as the dark red fluid passed your lips before tasting it himself. The evening carried on pleasantly with delightful conversation and several romantic displays that caused the rest of the world to disappear in a foggy haze until only you and Dio at a tiny candlelit table remained.
After two glasses of wine, you were feeling rather good, the stress of the day had all but melted away, and the walk home in the chilly late December air felt rather pleasant. Even the rain had slowed to a gentle drizzle and the icy droplets collected on the tips of your hair and eyelashes as you walked.
Dio held you against him to keep you warm and steady and safe, you were greatly pleased to find he’d worn the scarf you’d made for him. “Life is kind of funny.” You laughed, gazing wistfully at your companion. “I spent half my youth opposing all of my parents' desires, only to end up with exactly the kind of man they would have dreamed to see me with.” He smiled and held you tighter to him. “You, with your stupid law degree and your stupid pretty hair and your stupid handsome face, why did you have to be so stupidly perfect?”
“Perhaps it’s just a great woman who brings out the best in me?”
“Ha, yeah right! I saw the way you were, you could charm the pants off a-a-I can’t remember the saying right now.”
“I certainly charmed you out of yours.” He whispered against your ear with a smirk, his hands groping down your body as his lips brushed against your cheek.
“My point exactly, I don’t put out for just anybody, you know.”
“I’m aware, and bear in mind I’m the only one who’s allowed to have you in such a way.” His hands gently massaged your hips as he spoke
You let out an exasperated sigh. “If only you weren’t a lawyer, then you really would be perfect.”
“I’m not a lawyer, I merely have a law degree.”
“Oh, same difference.” You chuckled, pulling away from him to unlock the door. “But rest assured my parents would’ve loved you, you could’ve been their pride and joy to make up for their failure of a daughter.”
He placed his hand firmly on your shoulder and turned you around to face him. “Do not speak of yourself in such a manner. Of all the things you are in this life, a failure is not one of them.” He took the key from your hand and unlocked the door, sweeping you off your feet the moment you were inside. “And you oughtn’t disagree with me.”
He led you straight to your bedroom, helping you out of your dress and returning it to your armoire. “Now, my love, I believe we were interrupted earlier.” He crooned while guiding you tenderly to the bed.
“So have you decided I’m worthy of an orgasm after all?” You said sarcastically as he eased himself between your legs.
“You’re always worthy.” He purred as he hooked a finger under your panties and slid them off with ease. “Because you belong to me, and I do not waste my time on unworthy things.”
You meant to say something snarky back, but with his face between your legs like that you’re unable to respond with anything other than a pleasurable moan. “Dio~”
“Now, would you like to continue this conversation, or would you like to relax and let me make you cum?” His face dipped back down and his tongue licked lazily against you, he’d already decided which was going to happen.
“Dio, ah!” You whined, your back already arching off the bed to meet him.
“I’m not hearing an answer, my love.” Still, you only managed a moan in response. “Use your words, mademoiselle.”
“Th-the second,” you stuttered.
“Excellent choice.” He began fervently lapping your cunt until you whined in pleasure, drowning in the sweet taste of you.
In mere moments your entire body was squirming beneath him. “Oh, Dio.” He looked up between your legs as your head fell backwards, vacant of any thoughts save for the insurmountable pleasure that consumed you. He continued to lick firm circles against your clit until your legs began to thrash. He forced you into place and continued. He moaned against you as his tongue entered your core and he lapped a broad stroke against you, causing your entire body to shudder. “Dio, oh, oh my God!” You cried, the tension that had built inside you had been pulled so tightly that you couldn’t control how your body moved beneath him. “Dio, please make me cum!” You screamed, attempting to jerk your hips, but they were held so firmly in place that any movement proved futile.
“Such a voracious young lady, always so hasty to finish.”
“Dio… please.”
“Perhaps my darling little thing has been spoiled for too long? Let’s see how long she can last, shall we?”
“Dio, play nice!”
“Now, now, darling, I am always nice.” He taunted as his tongue darted along the length of your inner thigh in an increasingly teasing gesture.
“That’s… a lie!” Your chest heaved out a breathless squeal as his fingers glided along your entrance.
“Oh, is that so?” He looked up at you with a raised eyebrow then gave a devious, prickling smirk as he curled his fingers into you. The sensation brought you to the brink of overstimulation and a shrill scream left your lungs. “You ought to keep your voice down, dear, lest the neighbors hear you again and I cannot be held responsible for that.”
You swallowed the next vocalizations with exasperation, feeling your eyes roll back as you did. Your body was rendered a jittery and shaky mess with every little touch. You could feel a soft chuckle against your tender sex as he looked up at you; tears had collected in the corners of your eyes and drool at the side of your mouth as your head pliantly lolled back against the pillow. “How pathetic.” He whispered, more than satisfied with his work.
He then returned to his task, this time setting a more consistent pace. Finally committed to giving in to your desires. You let out a sigh of relief as the tingling heat of climax spread through your body. “Thank… you.” You squeaked, placing your hand on the back of his head and petting his hair perhaps more gratefully than he deserved.
He collapsed into the bed next to you and lightly traced his fingers along your waist. “Always so polite, and after all that teasing, too.” He sneered, pinching your cheek. “I must say, you put on quite a marvellous show.” You shook your head and brushed off his jeering comments. With all the remaining energy you had, you hooked your legs over his waist and straddled him. “Oh, I’d have thought you’d be too tired to continue.” He grinned and he guided your hips onto his cock to let you sink down on him as he groaned appreciatively.
“Never.” You replied, your breathing was weary and heavy and you thrust against him.
Dio bucked his hips eagerly up into you, savoring the way your tight cunt clamped around him with each thrust, god, you were so good for him. Every little snide remark he made to you was only to keep himself from drowning in the pleasures of your body. More thankful than ever that he was able to thoroughly enjoy you. Weakly, you balanced on him, keeping up with the pace he set as his large hands drove your hips down against him with a familiar bruising strength until his rhythm grew more hectic and irregular. He gritted his teeth and pulled you firmly against him. “I love you.” He hissed with a forceful grunt as he came deep within you.
Your two bodies had been left hot and panting against one another after such an exertion. “I love you too.” You said breathlessly, leaning against his chest with his arms wrapped around you. Worn out and near exhaustion himself, Dio gently pulled the covers over the both of you and eased you into a comfortable sleep, content that he had so adroitly been able to keep you from harm.
Notes:
SEXY LAWYER DIO HAS OFFICIALLY ENTERED THE CHAT AND OH BOY WAS HE IN FINE FORM TONIGHT!!!!!!!!
I ♥ lawyer Dio, gotta be one of my favorite Dios.I just love putting my characters in situations!
*me thinking I am so funny for naming an austere Victorian Lady after a song about a prostitute* No, but mostly I based her on Miss Lemon, the dutiful secretary in many Poirot novels because I am very unashamed in my love of English mystery novels.
Chapter 22: The Card Cheat
Notes:
Let's have a look at what Jonathan has been up to, shall we?
(See the end of the chapter for more notes.)
Chapter Text
The party at the Joestar mansion had been another unbridled success in spite of the extenuating circumstances. Though perhaps a bit smaller than years past, it nonetheless raised quite a generous amount of charity. Jonathan was thankful that the event had run as smoothly as it did and even more so that it was over and his father would be able to rest. The rest of the festivities had been quiet. Only a small celebration between Jonathan and his father had been held. Throughout the sanctuary of the holiday, Jonathan did his best to allay any of his father’s curiosity and concerns about Dio. Jonathan jumped between looming dread and a hideous jealousy he only ever found himself capable of when the situation concerned his brother. He was left befuddled as to how his father could maintain such love for Dio despite everything that happened. Perhaps if he knew the truth, the horrible, wretched truth, his thoughts would waver. But Jonathan had vowed to keep the secrets of the mask from his father at all costs, it was better that way, better to keep him from getting caught up in any dangerous business; his father had enough bad memories surrounding the dreadful thing, he hadn’t the need for any more.
But this cloak and dagger business was becoming harder and harder to maintain, especially with more frequent visits from Baron Zeppeli and the various comings and goings of Speedwagon’s lackeys from London, many with unsatisfactory or even downright incorrect reports. But then, several days after Christmas, a man with a tattoo of a handprint across his face burst into Jonathan’s study with a frazzled Speedwagon in tow. The commotion caused both Jonathan and Baron Zeppeli to be startled from their work.
“Now, you’re sure you saw him?” Speedwagon questioned frantically; an almost feline glint behind his violet eyes.
“Yes, it was just before the holidays; Sunday, I think. I followed him halfway across that little port town not too far from here. He never caught sight of me, but he sure knew I was doggin’ him.”
Curious nods followed from the rest of the room along with some perfunctory questions to ensure that what he saw was actually Dio. “Where was he going? Was he with anyone? Did you find where he’s been staying?” Most questions were left with ambiguous answers.
“And what time of day was it?” Zeppeli interrupted the flurry of questions with one of his own he considered more pressing.
“I can’t be sure, but I think it was the end of the afternoon, just as evening was getting on.”
“How intriguing, this is almost a bit unexpected.” Zeppeli pondered, more to himself than any of his companions. All the while Speedwagon instructed his friend to ramp up search efforts in the area where Dio had been spotted, but with the messy squalls of freezing rain that had been plaguing the region, most efforts were put on hold until the weather brightened.
“What do you make of all this, Baron?” Speedwagon asked impatiently while his friend saw himself out.
“Well, if nothing else, it appears he didn’t use the mask in himself, the sun would have destroyed him completely if he had, so I suppose that solves one of our mysteries.” Zeppeli responded with a slight shrug, but he only seemed to look more puzzled.
“Then, why… why would he send the mask back?” Jonathan demanded in a tone that darted between fear and frustration. Though he had spoken out loud, he had not been asking anyone in particular, it was as though he’d pleaded with the universe itself for an answer. This puzzle had plagued his mind for days now; Dio’s disappearance and the truth of the mask had been enough to handle, but once the mask had been returned it opened a new set of questions that were very much unanswerable and transcended far beyond the realm of his usual curiosities and left him in bitter exasperation.
“Unfortunately, I do not know, alas, I am no fortune teller, but I know that where the mask is concerned there is treachery. It has bested better men than Dio Brando.” Baron became lost in a vast sea of memories, his father had been an unfortunate victim of the mask’s evil. The perilous journey in youth and all that had spurred from it was ever-present in his mind. If there were a way to rid the world of its evil and perhaps save someone from its clutches, he was more than willing to try at any means necessary.
“A fortune teller…” Jonathan mused, the innocuous uttering of the phrase had sparked a clever idea within him. “Perhaps we ought to reconsider the man who confessed to selling Dio the poison.”
“I don’t like the sound of that, JoJo, things are rotten wherever he’s concerned. I think it’s best to bide our time and wait for my men to return, we can find out more information then.” Speedwagon proposed he had heard dealings of Wang Chan well before he became a player in the story of Jonathan’s crusade against Dio and the mask. Tales of his unsavory dealings were rampant throughout Ogre Street. In his mind, it was no surprise that a pitiless scoundrel like Dio got tangled up with such a repugnant individual.
“I fully understand your apprehensions, Speedwagon, but I think we should pursue any lead possible. Dio’s always been sharp, wherever he is, I’m sure he’s already concocted a plan and I’m even more certain that we are very much a part of it. We shouldn’t allow ourselves to rest easy as of yet, just because he likely has not used the mask on himself, it doesn’t mean he hasn’t used it on someone else, isn’t that right, Baron Zeppeli?”
“You are absolutely correct, amico mio. As it stands, it’s impossible to say what he’s done.”
“Hmm, and the Baron already mentioned that there is likely a woman involved, I would not be able to forgive myself if I allowed harm to come to an innocent girl through my inaction, and who knows, he could have countless others at his command, he could have utilized the mask on any one of them.” Jonathan combed through his recollections of Dio’s character; he had always been so wickedly charming, that his mere presence demanded attention. It would be no great task to find useful allies if he so chose.
‘Why, Mr. Joestar, this man truly has all the makings of a true gentleman, rushing into a battle for the sake of others, sure he’s naive, but his heart’s as good as gold!’ Speedwagon thought in heartfelt admiration for his friend. A wide-eyed expression on his face. The world around him seemed to be in such dire straits for as long as he could remember that it felt strange for someone to have such courage and compassion in the face of unimaginable evil. Bleak was life on the harsh streets of London, the slums rife with violence and disease that none should ever be forced to witness, but it was the life to which Speedwagon had resigned himself long ago, but it had all changed the moment of his chance encounter with Jonathan Joestar. There suddenly seemed more to life than the petty crime and meaningless brutality to which he’d grown accustomed. There was some grander purpose to it all, someplace where he was meant to fit.
“Come now, I think he’s right, our best bet is to pay a visit to this fortune teller and question him about his prior dealings with Dio, I’d like to have a word with him myself, you mentioned before that he had been turned over to the police?”
“Yes, we brought him back with us from London as a witness to Dio’s crimes, but when he never returned the police took him in for questioning for unsavory dealings of his own,” Jonathan explained.
“It has been a good while, but with any luck they may still have him in custody, though if he has gotten out, I say there’s a good chance he went right back to his post in London.” Speedwagon declared.
So that same afternoon, all three men rushed to the police station only to find that he had been turned over to Scotland Yard many weeks prior. With little evidence to keep Wang Chan in Liverpool and George’s refusal to press charges, they felt it better to bring him back to London, though accessory to murder in the long past death of a drunken pauper was a hard sell to anyone. He very well could have concocted the whole story with other ulterior motives in mind. The chief of police sent a telegram down to London only to receive word that, after a week of rotting in a jail cell, someone had paid for Wang Chan’s release. It was a disheartening development. After all of Wang Chan’s crimes, all of his black market dealings, all of the times he had been knowingly an accessory to murder, after everything he was still able to elude capture. “Dio…” Jonathan thought, the words unintentionally verbalizing as if of their own volition. “What sort of wicked scheme could you be plotting?”
“Don’t lose heart, JoJo, we’ll head back to London straight away and track him there.”
Jonathan only sighed, he had innumerable reservations about leaving his father alone again. While he had regained all of his strength and seemed in much higher spirits, Jonathan knew that there was a degree of performance to his jovial disposition and he did not want to be the cause of any further grief. It seemed to him, however, a double-edged sword. Leaving his father alone again for another excursion to London seemed unappealing, but remaining in Liverpool and doing nothing when he could’ve done something seemed equally unfavorable. But with such limited options, he figured it was best to put forth an effort in the far-flung hopes of happening upon good news.
So the three men gathered together their things and with a surprising alacrity, set out on another voyage to London. The trip was wearisome and the weather had not helped matters. The rain was endless and sleet battered against the window of the carriage, but after more than a day’s travel, they reached their destination without any great peril.
Ogre street. The name was as befitting as ever. An unholy calm hung about the alley, too quiet now that Speedwagon’s men had dispersed to other areas of the country, but there lingered a ghastly pestilence, as though something forsaken dwelt within the frigid stone. A faint smell of ozone permeated the craggy, ruinous streets, a portent of the treachery that abounded in the surreptitious dealings and ignoble services offered beneath the blanket of heavy fog.
Without further hesitation, Jonathan and company burst through the doors of Wang Chan’s shop hellbent on confrontation with little heed given to the acrimonious entrance.
“Ack, not you again!” The man shouted as he jumped from his seat and made an attempt to hide beneath the table.
“Wang Chan, tell us what you know of Dio and the mask!” Jonathan yelled in an unmannerly voice that he was surprised to hear from his own mouth.
“Now, now Jonathan, let’s be sensible about this.” Warned Baron Zeppeli as he sauntered up to the table with Speedwagon and came to stand beside Jonathan. The shop felt rather crowded with so many personages inside. It was not his business to deal with large numbers. Wang Chan’s shop was full of foreign oddities that covered the walls. Strange items of questionable origin many of which would have piqued Jonathan's interest if the circumstance had been different. But as it was, he could only focus on how ornery the cramped shop made him feel.
“Yes, yes, listen to your friend, we can all get along, I’m sure.”
“Do not play coy with me! I know someone bailed you out of prison Wang Chan, it was Dio, wasn’t it? What exactly are the two of you planning?”
“And what proof do you have that it was him?” Wang Chan sneered, placing his long slender hand under his chin, more reassured in tone once he was certain that no members of the police force were joining his guests. Jonathan gritted his teeth, no matter the strength of his convictions, he had no tangible proof other than the auspicious timing of it all. “After all, I have plenty of clients who rely on my services.” The man hissed in a vulgarly impish tone.
“Enough of these games, do you or do you not know the whereabouts of Dio?”
“I do not.”
Jonathan exhaled, he had no reason to take the man at his word, but something about the way he said it seemed honest. “Then, who bailed you out of prison?”
“As I said before, I have very many clients, you understand that a great many of them prefer to deal in anonymity.”
“I came here for answers, Wang Chan, and I am not leaving here without answers.”
He let out a vile cackle and curled his fingers together on the table. “Many people come to a fortune teller for answers, but my services will cost you”
Speedwagon pushed forward and slammed his fist on the table. “Like hell, we’d ever pay a slimy character like you for a—”
“See, you act with too much haste, amico, when trying to catch a fish, you must first find a way to make the fish bite, this right here will be our bait!” Zeppeli declared as he tossed several coins on the table and took a seat in front of Wang Chan.
“Oh, I see you come to me for my skills then, tell me, sir, what is it you wish to know?” He said with a wry smile that curled into a menacing sneer as he folded his slender hands beneath his chin.
“As if you don’t already know, tell us what you know of Dio Brando! It is of the utmost urgency that we learn what has become of him.” The three men huddled together as the fortune teller combed through his memory, taking far more time than needed to recover his thoughts.
“Ahh yes, the name, it is familiar to me now.” He drawled, lazily dragging out each word as though it were a grand performance. “Dio Brando, I have read his fortune a great many times. His soul is as black as they come, however his mettle is unyielding. Unfortunately for you, my good sirs, my dealings with him have ceased as of late, however, I know he is destined for things far behind even the scope of your peculiar mask. His strength, his determination, his malevolence, I saw it all in the lines of his face, even as a boy, and he has only grown into his fate since, but without the man himself here before us, why don’t we consult the cards for guidance?” From behind him, he produced a deck of tarot cards which he excitedly began shuffling. The thick cardstock scraped against one another arduously, mockingly, as if enchanted with the same malice as the man holding them.
“I’ve had enough of your parlor tricks, are you going to tell us where Dio is or not?” Jonathan spat, losing the last semblance of patience he had. Without a word of response, Wang Chan drew a single card and handed it to Jonathan. “The Knight of Swords?” Jonathan studied the card carefully, a man dressed in armor rode atop a large horse, a sword drawn in his hand. “What is the meaning of this?”
“It is your fortune, this one is free of charge.” He said, snatching the card out of Jonathan’s hand and shuffling it back into the deck.
“But what does it mean?”
“What does it mean to you? The cards are mysterious, yes, but they do not decide your fate, they merely reflect that which you have already decided yourself.” He cackled maniacally while placing three cards face down on the table.
“Don’t let him psych you out, Jonathan, I’ve dealt with the likes of him before, what they lack in strength and will they make up for by resorting to petty intimidation tactics against those they know they couldn’t hope to beat.” Speedwagon placed a friendly hand on Jonathan’s shoulder and smiled as if he'd mustered some residual bravery for the sake of his friend.
“Let’s see here, these three cards represent his past, present, and future.” Wang Chan sneered as he turned over the first card, “the Five of Cups, how very interesting, it seems despite his efforts his plans have been mislaid.” The three men observed the card, a cloaked figure stood looming over five cups, three of which had been split. “And the second, regarding the present; the Six of Swords! Clearly, we see a determination to overcome these past challenges!” The man let out another wicked cackle before turning over the third card. “And finally, for the future… the Two of Cups?” The man stared at the card, befuddled. “That cannot be right.”
“What does it mean?” The question came indistinctly from the party gathered before the table, but Wang Chan had not paid heed to the speaker in his surprise.
“It is… no, something must’ve gone amiss, there must be more to this than meets the eye. I shall draw another three cards.” He moved the previous spread out of the way and shuffled the deck again “This time, three cards to represent the situation, the action, and the outcome.” He shuffled the remaining cards and drew three more, laying each of them face down before him. “For the situation, we have the Two of Swords, some kind of impasse or crossroads, yes, yes.” He tapped his finger on the table in thought, mumbling slightly. “The action… the Eight of Cups; the choice to walk away from that which is unfulfilling…” He sat in silence for several seconds and scratched his chin with a look of vexation. “At last, the outcome is the Ace of Wands? A rebirth, a new path?” He huffed at this spread as well before casting it, too aside in frustration. “Useless.” He muttered with a sharp exhale. “Something here has gone awry. I have read his fate for nigh on a decade and it’s never changed, something is wrong.” He declared broadly as he clutched the remainder of the deck in his hands.
Suddenly Baron Zeppeli let out a hearty laugh and placed another coin on the table. “Tell me, sir, when was the last time you actually saw Dio Brando with your own two eyes?”
Wang Chan paid no mind to the money placed before him, his eyes focused on the six cards that lay on the table “It’s been well over a month, nearer to two if I had to guess.” He said unthinkingly as he waved his hand in annoyance.
Zeppeli stood up and snapped his fingers “I think we’ve gotten just about all we can get from this man, he’s no longer of importance to us.” He gestured to the door, hurrying his two companions out with him.
“But Baron Zeppeli, we are no closer to learning Dio’s whereabouts.” Jonathan protested, glancing back at the perturbed shopkeeper who had continued to fuss over the cards.
“But amico, do you not see all we’ve learned from this little endeavor?”
Once the three men had exited the shop Wang Chan returned to his cards. “That must be it, there could be no other explanation.” He hissed violently, before him laid three newly drawn cards; the Queen of Cups, the Lovers, and the World. “Yes, this little anomaly has meddled far too much.”
The trio rode home from London in near silence, Zeppeli refused to discuss the matter until they returned to the Joestar mansion despite the persistent questioning of his companions, regardless of their queries, he’d only repeat the same thing, “we know more now and that alone has made this trip worthwhile.”
The group returned to the Joestar mansion on the eve of the new year. Despite the warm welcomes from his father upon his homecoming, Jonathan couldn’t help but feel as though the house felt colder than ever before. Yes, the residual hope of Dio’s retained humanity continued to persist, but the lack of knowing continued to plague Jonathan’s mind with hopeless uncertainty.
After a brief rest to settle in from their trip, the three men convened in the library to discuss. While Jonathan and Speedwagon waited with bated breath for any sort of placation, Zeppeli strode into the library nonchalantly and kicked his feet up onto an antique chaise lounge. “So, we return again to the amiable Joestar abode after a rousingly successful outing.” He laughed as he poured himself a glass of deep red wine.
“Baron Zeppeli, I still don’t understand how anything we learned in London was helpful to us in any way.”
“No? Do you not see how this proves that Dio has not visited the fortune teller since his disappearance, so whatever is afoot, there is no way the two are in league, you saw how affected the man was by the fortune he read, something is certainly the matter, but he has not been involved, as such, we can safely assume Dio was not the man who bailed him out of prison.”
“That fortune, I do not know what to make of it, have you any insight?”
“You must mistake me for a fortune teller myself, I know little of that sort of thing, but, if it becomes necessary I can rely on my master, Tonpetty. He would know far more than I do on the subject. He is the man who trained me, I know everything I know about Hamon because of him. He would have more insight into the matter than I can offer. But if you wish to stake any merit on it, it would suggest some kind of change. For the better or for the worse, well, I cannot say. Perhaps one o four earlier suppositions was correct and we do not know it yet.”
Jonathan pondered, there was still a glimmer of hope after all, but finding Dio now seemed harder than ever.
Notes:
DON'T KILL ME FOR THOSE TAROT READINGS HAHAHA
there definitely isn't any foreshadowing in them, none at all I promise
*The use of tarot cards has been approved by my friend who is really into that kind of thing lol*
From my research, tarot really did exist in the 19th century, though it would have been far less common in rather conservative England. Good thing Wang Chan has been all over the world!
It's kind of a happy accident that in Stardust Crusaders, The Lovers (the stand) is used by Steely Dan and reader's stand is named after a Steely Dan song.Speedwagon being a hater as always, but are we peeping the parallels between Speedwagon and Jonathan and Dio and the reader? Maybe that will give him a bit more empathy for Dio. Eventually. Despite all appearances, we aren't going to be getting Jonathan x Speedwagon in this story. They are just friends. I mean, Speedwagon may love Jonathan but Jonathan will only ever have eyes for Erina. Sorry my dear Speedwagon, a bachelor you shall remain.
Chapter 23: If Not For You
Notes:
And so the year comes to a close...
Lots of book discussion for my fellow book nerds.
CW: for mild discussion of death/murder.
(See the end of the chapter for more notes.)
Chapter Text
~December 31st, 1888~
Your break from work had gone by in the twinkling of an eye, before you knew it, the end of the year was already upon you as you sunk into a pleasantly quiet New Year’s Eve. The entire day had gone by quite similar to most; keeping warm in your cozy flat by snuggling close to your lover with a blanket and a book. It was such a shame to let go of such delightful leisure. In years past you had been chomping at the bit to return to work, but even with the additional allure of your promotion, you couldn’t bring yourself to find the prospect any more attractive than the languid bliss of these mirthful days spent in idle.
“You cannot seriously believe that Mr. Darcy is a better love interest than Mr. Rochester.” Dio sneered with a genuine disgust in his voice.
“I most certainly do, what is wrong with that?” You asked; brows furrowed indignantly as you sat up straight with a hand pressed defiantly against your hip.
“Hm? Oh, I would have figured you prefer your men with a bit more nuance. Perhaps I have been mistaken.” He drawled amusedly, a slick expression as his eyes darted over you.
“Mr. Darcy is not without nuance in his own right.”
“Mr. Rochester is a compelling, complicated man with genuine feelings behind his stoic demeanor and genuine compassion for his adoptive daughter whom he had no obligation to take in and he adores Jane for far more than her body. Mr. Darcy is but a boring nobleman almost completely devoid of personality with little to offer beyond his inexhaustible wealth.”
“Now that is just wrong. Mr. Rochester is a bigamist prick who entered an inappropriate relationship with a woman he employed and then didn’t tell her he was married. Mr. Darcy is a kindly man who is just not quite in touch with his feelings and that makes him come off as somewhat arrogant and perhaps a bit too concerned with status and propriety, but nothing that can’t be amended by his lively and cheeky little wife.”
“His wife is not the matter. She is as likable as any, perhaps more so as she reminds me a bit of you but he is as best dull and at worst a pompous fool.”
“I would rather love a fool than a smarmy manwhore.”
He gave a soft chuckle and shook his head in shame. “I see, how dreadfully boring of you indeed. To think a stuffy gentleman with a country estate would be a better lover than a hedonistic man plagued with brilliantly tragic melancholia.” He mused with an outstretched hand as though the conclusion had been gifted to him through an act of divination.
“Well, if you love Lord Byron so much then why don’t you marry him?”
“Now, darling, while I am certain your travels from the future have distorted your sense of time, I can assure you that he has been dead for a great while now; well before I was even born.”
“Oh, then perhaps I will just have to take you back to such a fine era.”
“Ah, then do say you will be happy for us. I would hate to lose your acquaintanceship over such a petty thing.”
“How natural that one who sees Mr. Rochester as the paragon male leads would also be inclined towards duplicity.”
“Now, now my dearest, there is no need to speak with such hideous contempt, if you are jealous, then simply say so.” There was a sly titter to the sensual timbre of his voice, baiting you into further embarrassment.
“I-I’m not jealous.” You stammered unconvincingly, bewildered as to how you’d let this playful squabble affect you so deeply.
“Oh? That indignation in your voice and the flush of your cheeks tells me otherwise, my dear.” He purred as he trailed his finger over your thigh.
“Forgive me for not being enthused with the idea of my boyfriend being married to someone else.”
“I thought we were far past such unpleasantries as needless jealousy.”
“Hm, I doubt you would be so accepting if I were to suggest something so uncouth.”
“Certainly not, but you belong to me and me alone, but you should be aware that I have no desire to be any such thing to anyone else.” He smirked and offered a gentle kiss atop your head; he took great pleasure in the ornery look that covered your blushing face; reddened to the tips of your ears with an endearing sort of exasperation. “Enough of this.” He scoffed lightly to conceal the amusement in his voice, then adjusted in his spot beside you on the couch and leaned across the coffee table to pick up the copy of Anna Karenina you’d gifted him for Christmas. You were a bit bewildered to see how much he had read in such a brief span of time, especially when it seemed his attention had been primarily focused on other endeavors. “This is quite a fantastic novel.” He noted casually as his eyes drifted across the open pages.
“I am glad you like it, it is still held in quite high regard in my time.”
“Yes, it seems the kind of thing that could hold up well in its honest description of human nature and so forth.”
“I’d have to agree, unhappiness in families is certainly not an affliction relegated to the 19th century, I’m afraid.”
“So it seems.” He mused as his arm fell across your shoulders. Though interesting, he wondered how long the story could hold his attention when something far more intriguing sat so enticingly close to him.
“I think it’s very honest in its depiction of family and scandal, I mean, even with the best of intentions things can go awry, and people can suffer as a result. To what extent does the pursuit of one’s own happiness begin to do harm unto others? To what extent of appeasement must one suffer before they betray themself?” Dio gave only a slight hum to acknowledge your musings, he had decided he would read a bit longer before pursuing you. “In a way, it reminds me of your relationship with the Joestars.”
“Hm, does it?” He brushed off the remark, admittedly he found your mention of them to be rather unpleasant but perhaps not without merit, though he did not care to give the idea any more than a cursory thought.
“Certainly; everything is quite complicated, in fact, there’s somewhat of a tragical beauty to it all. I think your situation has a similar air to it; you cannot make up for your own unhappiness by doing the same unto others.”
“I find it rather presumptuous of you to think you can liken my family to a novel. I doubt very much that the menial affairs of tarty socialites can be comparable in any meaningful way.” He spat, slamming the book shut harshly in a rather brutish response.
“It was not my aim to offend you, I just…” You took a deep breath in an attempt to gather your thoughts, but before you could stop it, the words came tumbling from your mouth. “Dio, do you think you’ll ever—”
“No.” He responded abruptly to conceal the bile rising in the back of his throat.
“You don’t even know what I’m going to ask.”
“No, but I can guess and I am very rarely wrong.”
“Do you think you’ll ever go back, to face the Joestars?”
“Oh, and here I thought I had made such an excellent roommate.” He said maliciously, far more vitriolic than any light-hearted discontent you’d taken to his earlier remarks.
“I don’t mean to leave, I wouldn’t ever want you to. I just mean… they’re your family, don’t you think they’re worried about you?”
His face contorted into a nasty scowl, you were really testing his patience. He had indulged your curiosity into his disagreeable past more than once. He had learned to live with your insistence on openness and proclivity to trap him into discussions that forced vulnerability, but this was far beyond anything he was willing to discuss. He had no desire to remember the unpleasantness of his final days at the Joestar mansion. “And why would they ever concern themselves with a ne’er do well such as I?”
“Because,” you began, tentatively placing your hand on his shoulder to offer solace. “They are your family”
“Hmph, this coming from the woman who abandoned her entire family in the next millennium.”
“Oh, that’s nice, that’s real nice. Sure, take it out on me, the woman who loves you.” You pulled your hand away and slid to the opposite end of the couch.
With a sharp exhale, he relaxed. He knew he shouldn’t have said that. It was a touch too far, even by his standards, he could see the hurt written all over your face Yes, too far. The bitter taste of his caustic rage lingered on his tongue.
“I’d give just about anything to see my family again, to let them know I’m okay, if I could have it both ways, I would. But I am weak and whatever power brought me here, it won’t take me back, so I have to live knowing that I’ll never be able to make things right with them, ever, but you still could.”
“Just because you feel guilt over your predicament does not give you a right to meddle in my affairs. You are trying to fix something that does not want or need mending.”
“I just think, maybe it would do your heart some good to get some kind of closure.”
“And that is the trouble with you, you are always thinking too much, and to think too much is a disease. Quite a dangerous one at that.”
“And you are the same as me!” You breathed heavily, cooling your temper. In light of your more relaxed state, Dio approached you and brought your hand to his lips. You allowed the action but offered little in the way of acknowledgement. “You are much too intelligent for your own good but you try to deny that which makes you human. And I think it’s because you’re scared to face it, you think it makes you weak but it doesn’t. If overthinking is my disease, then it is your fatality.”
“And you know me so well?”
“I do, I know you better than anyone. In the time I’ve known you, I’ve indulged in not only your body, but in your mind and heart, I know the things that make you the man you are, inside and out. I know you better than you know yourself.”
Dio thought for a while as he eased his arms around you. Over the last month he had made you privy to the many parts of him, some he’d never allowed another access to. In truth, you had belonged to him since the moment he deemed you worthy of his pursuit, but the longer he stayed in your magnetic field, the more he realized that he had undeniably begun to belong to you. There had never been another who had taken the time to understand him, to know him in ways he did not even know himself. He thought of all the nights you’d spent unraveled in each other's arms. it had always been so much more than just mindless sex, he knew all too well that he was trying to know you as intimately as you knew him and the conquest of your body had been one such way. And yet, the simple magic you exuded somehow had wormed its way so deeply inside of him, that the hold you had over him was undeniable. Such a silly creature you seemed, laying there in his arms, yet everything about you was so perfect for him as if you’d been wrought by his own hands. What heaven brought you before him must’ve been a merciful one.
Deep in his memory, Dio could recall the countless affairs, as meaningless as they were tedious and how incomparable it was with what he had seen bloom with you. From the moment your lips had met his skin, he had known he was doomed. Doomed to be inexorably altered through the nameless force that kept him glued to you. Never before had anyone so thoroughly held his interest. For his many admirable qualities, he knew himself to be rather mercurial of mind when it came to his partners. Love was an unnecessary complexity he hadn’t the time for, hadn’t the need for; it would only serve to muddle his plans. Lust was simple. An uncomplicated emotion that could be quickly dealt with. How tragically easy to cajole one into bed, the matter evident in the host of otherwise well-mannered country ladies he’d run through during his university years. Each one sufficiently educated in the way a lady ought to be and of indubitably good breeding but no less easy to bed; any one of them would have made a suitable bride for someone else. Not for him. Never for him. He hadn’t the use for an inane relationship that offered little but compulsory affection he would tire of before the honeymoon was over. As far as he was concerned, that honest, cosmic sort of love did not exist. And if it did, it was never meant to be his at any rate, but so effortlessly had it fallen into his lap in the form of the bright little nymph that had so carefully disarmed him of his apprehensions.
“I had never loved, until I’d met you,” he said, finally breaking the silence, “it was not that I could not have, I simply never wanted to. Finding a companion was never a priority for me, I never expected it would be different, but with you it is. But all the same, I have no intention of rekindling a relationship with the Joestars, least of all for your sake. I am not scared of them, I simply haven’t the need for them. What ties had bound me to them have been severed; I severed them.”
“I don’t think you’re scared of them, I think you’re scared to revisit a past you don’t want to, and I think they are part of that past.” Determinedly, you clasped your hands over his. “Dio, I’ve told you from the moment I met you, that I only want to help you, have I not proven that to you time and time again?”
“I would refrain from such brazen assumptions, darling.” He scowled at you but quickly averted his eye, he knew that to be true, but he couldn’t help from feeling angered by your continued prodding into the details of his life. He had divulged so many things to you, so many things he had never shared with another. Things he had not even considered sharing. You held so many pieces of him; each cradled gently in your delicate hands. Until he had known you, he had not realized how fractured of a person he had become. Cracks and shards abounded behind a shiny façade of gentility. He marveled at how you’d begun to fill the gaps with those musical qualities that only you could possess. It was curious, he had not realized how empty he was until he’d so ravenously indulged in the comfort your adoration provided him His goals had blinded him to that. Perhaps he had always needed to chase after something to distract from the jarring emptiness he felt within.
You exhaled “Dio, I don’t want to start an argument with you, especially before the new year.” His frown persisted, but you could see his body relax slightly. “Dio, I know these things are hard, but you don’t have to go through it alone, I will always be here for you.” You smiled at him so earnestly that he couldn’t help but feel a pang of regret for the tone he’d taken with you.
“I do not think you understand how complicated the situation is, whatever occurred between you and your family is inconsequential compared to what I did to mine, I don’t think they’d be so eager for a reunion, especially JoJo.”
“But you can’t know that for sure, to err is human, to forgive is divine. I’m sure if you just explained to him—”
“I tried to kill our father.” He replied curtly, a faraway affectation to his voice. “You cannot simply explain away something so sinister.”
“But you didn’t.”
He glared at you, a familiar flicker of crimson in his eyes. “You speak as though you are certain.”
You reached for the shelf beneath the coffee table and pulled out a newspaper from a couple of days back. “There was a blurb about the party in the paper, apparently the event raised quite a nice sum for charity.”
“It always does.” He replied with an apprehensive sort of fondness as he scanned over the article and eyed the accompanying photograph which showed his father dressed lavishly in a fine suit as he gave the familiar kindly, noble smile he so often wore. Behind him stood a crowd of people in varying degrees of fancy dress; all aglow with earnest enjoyment like it was supposed to be, without him.
“Dio, I know what you did was awful, but I know your family still loves you and I think deep down you know it too. And look, everything has turned out okay, everyone is fine and no one is hurt, you can stop beating yourself up about this now.”
“I have been doing no such thing.”
“But you have, and I know you have, I know you’d been worrying about what happened to them after your flight. I’ve seen your hasty glances through the paper, your vexed expression, your furrowed brow.”
He narrowed his eyes at you with a brilliant intensity that glowed like fire. “And how can you be so sure?”
“Because, you’re terrified of what I’d think of you if your plan had been successful, moreover if Jonathan had been unsuccessful, if things hadn’t ultimately turned out okay.”
Such a bold statement, no one had ever taken such an impudent tone with him and gotten away with it, but in his heart, he knew there was a glimmer of truth. Perhaps more. “You must think very highly of yourself.”
You shrugged your shoulders and leaned into him. “I just know that the Dio Brando who stumbled drunkenly into my life in November is a very different man from the Dio Brando sitting beside me now. I know that you regret what you did because I know that you know that I wouldn’t have you if you didn’t.” With an amused grin, he pulled you onto his lap. Immediately you accepted his advances and nestled against him, dotting a number of kisses across his face. “Dio, I know you have been through impossible hardships, far too many for someone as young as you are, and I know you have a great many regrets, and I can’t fix it all, especially in so short a time, but I think talking about things, at least those you feel comfortable discussing, will help you. You’ve done it before, you’ve shown me a softer side to you, you don’t need to be afraid of telling me how you feel. I love you so dearly and I will always be willing to listen to what you have to tell me and I will not think any less of you no matter what.” You placed your hand softly against his cheek and traced the sharp angles with your thumb.
“Don’t you think there are far better uses for my mouth than simply talking?” With a devious smirk, he kissed along the length of your jaw and down your neck as if his lascivious implications could bring the conversation to a halt.
“You must think very lowly of yourself if you think the only reason I keep you is because you’re good in bed, though I’ll admit, it is a nice perk.” You traced your thumb over his lower lip before sinking down into a heated kiss that assured him you reciprocated his desires.
“Such impertinence.” His lips ghosted over your neck as he spoke. “And yet somehow, in spite of every churlish remark, you make me love you all the more.” He exhaled sharply and sucked the skin of your neck causing your hips to involuntarily roll into his. “Is this what you wanted me to say?” He growled between a flurry of kisses that left your body warm and tingly from your head down to your toes. “Did you want me to tell you that I have no idea what would’ve become of me if you hadn’t found me when you did?” He pressed your body so firmly against him that it caused all the air to escape your lungs for the briefest of moments as he moved to free you of your top. “How afraid I am of even the very thought of losing you.” You shrugged the garment off your shoulders and returned to his embrace. Briefly catching his lips in a ravenous kiss before he broke away to sink his teeth into your exposed shoulder. With a hoarse yelp you nestled closer to him, you could feel the heavy, uncertain pattern of his breathing as he massaged your hips against him. “That I’m beyond terrified that one day my past will catch up with me and then you’ll wake up and realize you cannot love a man like me and you’ll walk away for good and I will be alone again.” You could feel the frantic beating of his heart, hammering rapidly in his chest as he clung to you, how terrifying it was to need someone else in such a way, Dio had never experienced anything like it and the thought of you knowing this weakness was quite more than he bargained for. “Do you know how I dread the thought of my life without you in it?” He finished at last, completely out of breath after such a show of vulnerability.
“Dio, I love you, now and always, okay?” You soothed him, running your hands over his broad shoulders and letting his body relax into yours. “As long as you’re trying, I’m not leaving, so you can push that thought out of your head.” you brushed your fingers through his hair, pressing your forehead against his. “You know how much I love you, right, you aren’t in need of any further affirmations?”
He looped his arm around your waist as he roved over the curves of your body in absolute veneration; every part of you was invaluable to him. “I do know,” his voice wavered and he swallowed thickly in order to regain a semblance of confidence, “but… it is my first time.”
You nuzzled into the crook of his neck, bestowing a few tender kisses onto his silky porcelain skin. “Dio… thank you for taking a chance with me, thank you for letting me in, come what may, I will always be at your side. My word is my bond, I will never abandon you, and I will never hurt you.”
With little warning, he pinned you to the couch, his lips cascaded down your throat and to your chest as he sucked tiny bruises along the line of your breasts. “I need to have you.” He snarled through a gruff, breathy whine, the warmth of his body burning into you.
“Every part of me is yours.” You breathed as you guided his hand down your body, setting it between your legs and allowing him to cup his hand under your skirt. He trailed his finger along your sex, feeling the wetness that had formed through his touches. You sighed happily and leaned into his caresses
He hummed against the skin of your neck, his lips curling into an eager smirk. “I know this part is mine” He declared as he pressed his hand more firmly against your cunt, kneading you over your panties.
To his dismay, you pulled away from him. “I think, tonight, I’d like to remind you just how much I love you.” Fluidly, you moved between his knees with a wily grin. Without much haste, you fumbled with his belt until it came undone. You turned your attention to the buttons of his pants until they too gave way under your efforts. He let out a sharp exhale that flitted between anticipation and relief as you palmed over the bulge that was pressed firmly against his stomach. His hips rocked against your hand in a search for more control as a lustful grunt poured out of him. Seeing him like that, you couldn’t help but giggle. It was always a joy to see him so needy for you.
You continued to roam your hand against his length, alternating between firm pressure and light touches. All the while you could feel the way he twitched against the strained fabric, but before you could go any further Dio hastily pushed both his pants and underwear down past his knees, his enormous cock on full display for you. You took a moment to ogle him in such a position. A milky drop of precum had streamed down the head of his cock. “What are you waiting for?” He snapped crudely, feeling himself lacking in the tender patience he’d often found himself able to muster with you.
“So hasty tonight, can’t I admire what’s mine?” You snickered, it was quite a great deal of fun when the shoe was on the other foot for once, smiling up at him you grabbed the base of his shaft, the entire muscle twitched for your meager touch and another drop of precum beaded at the tip.
“Do not patronize me.” He said in an attempt to scold you, but his voice sounded more forlorn than anything. “I expressed all of my feelings to you, is that not enough… oh my god.” Your mouth swirled around the tip of his cock; the salty taste of his precum washed over your tongue as you sucked with just enough pressure to cause his head to fall back. You smiled up at him with an innocent expression on your face before taking as much of him as you could manage down your throat. “Fuck, that feels so good. Fuck.” He groaned, petting your hair as you bobbed your head at an easy pace. You steadied yourself with your free hand as you began to stroke him. Your tongue dragged across the tip to provide ample lubrication as you rhythmically stroked the entire length of his cock. Once satisfied you plunged your head back down on him while continuing to rub him in tandem. He gritted his teeth in an attempt to steady himself, letting his fingers ruffle through your hair, firmly grabbing a handful to push your mouth further down onto him. He took great pleasure in the way you reflexively swallowed to keep yourself from gagging on his length.
He held your head firmly into place and bucked his hips up into your mouth with rough but unmeasured thrusts as he enjoyed the efforts of your throat. So rough were his actions that you groaned slightly and pulled off of him with a cough, only to take a deep breath before enveloping him once again with greater determination.
His hips jerked beneath you while pulling your hair to further the connection. “So fucking good.” He moaned, no longer making any effort to stifle his vocalizations as he lost himself in a wave of pleasure. For the first time, he was utterly unashamed of letting you see him wound to such an undignified state of arousal. The pace of his hips had become more disorganized with each thrust and with a thunderous grunt he pushed your head as far as he could manage before he spilled into your throat, a series of profanities fell from his lips as he rode out his orgasm, indulging in the lasting pleasures of your mouth as you diligently accepted his cum.
You pulled your head off of him and swallowed hard, licking your lips and smiling up at him, that innocently sly expression written all over your face. “Was that good?” You asked coyly while climbing into his lap. He pulled you into his heaving chest and let his head fall back in satisfaction.
“That was incredible.” He sighed, bringing the back of his hand to his forehead to wipe the sweat from his brow, his other hand gently kneading your thigh as he collected himself. You moaned into his touch, feeling your body’s desire to melt into him as you shifted your position to lean against him.
“I do find the clothes from your time terribly fascinating.” He hissed as he rumpled the fabric in his hands. “Such precious little coverage. I must say, it’s quite scandalous.” Dio hiked your skirt up your waist, the fabric flowed futilely around your hips and left nothing to the imagination as he studied your newly disheveled appearance with great satisfaction. “You really should wear things like this more often,” he sneered against the back of your ear, “such easy access.”
One large hand cupped over you, massaging your sex through your panties which had grown damp from your arousal. More hastily than he’d intended, he shoved your panties down your legs and pulled them off, discarding the lacy fabric to the floor. The sudden exposure caused you to shudder as the chilly air of the room met your dripping cunt. Startled, you attempted to force your legs shut, but Dio jerked them back into place. With one hand he dipped his fingers into you and spread your wetness all over your cunt. “So messy, did sucking my cock turn you on this much?”
His breath was warm against the back of your neck but the feeling sent a shiver down your spine, you could feel the ghost of his lips just millimeters from your skin and became ever-conscious of the leisurely movements of his fingers. He stretched you just enough for two of his fingers to roam inside you. “Yes.” You breathed, partly in answer to his question and partly in reaction to the feeling of his fingers curling into you. He moved the hand that had been holding your thigh, up to your face, grabbing your chin firmly to turn your head to look at him. He ran his thumb roughly over your lips, still glistening with saliva. “I can’t believe the things this little mouth can do.” His lips crashed against yours with an unanticipated intensity, parting your lips, you let his tongue enter your mouth, his tongue wrapping over yours in a passionate show of affection while his fingers continued pressing inside you at a steady pace.
He firmly cemented his thumb to the hood of your clit and rubbed rigorous circles into the delicate bud at an unrelenting pace. The fortuitous angle allowed him more than enough leverage to have you utterly at his command, languidly mewling his name between breathy sighs, your hips fighting against his grasp to keep yourself from coming undone too quickly. “Dio…” you panted, your eyelids drooping heavily before your gaze, feeling a million tiny pin pricks in your pelvis just as the tension was about to snap. “So good.” You moaned wearily, you could feel his cock stiffen against your backside as you shifted around in his lap, no longer able to keep your impending orgasm at bay, you whispered several saccharine affirmations, the dulcet tone of your voice giving the illusion that you were more in control than you were, but truthfully your body had been swept up in the ungodly pleasure Dio had been giving you that you were nearly too tired to speak until the tension in your core unraveled in his hands, leaving you a limp, nervy, mess in his arms, your body jerking and spasming at his continued ministrations.
The sensitivity overcame you, you were bucking senselessly, screaming and cursing at the overstimulation that rendered you a spasming mess. Then, all at once he stopped, withdrawing his fingers from your weeping cunt with a devilish laugh. “You’re much too sensitive.” He tutted as you desperately tried to focus your blurry vision on anything that would bring you back to reality. your heart was beating precariously fast, shallow in your chest.
Finally, he eased his back against the couch. He swung your legs over his lap and sat you beside him so you could lay with your head against his chest to bask briefly in the afterglow. “I think I would like to make love to you in our bed.”
“Then do it.” You said, your body pliantly rested against his as you enjoyed the peaceful bliss of the evening.
Without another word, he lifted you to your feet and helped you slowly down the stairs in your disheveled state. With a sly, almost conceited look he led you to your bedroom. You’d come to associate the soft click of the door with a more tender and sensual version of Dio. With slow but precise hands, he lifted your sweater over your head and let it fall to the floor. He responded with a soft content as he took in your exposed body. A practiced hand cupped your breast softly as his thumb ran across your nipple. An airy moan passed your lips when you felt his other hand travel down your waist and slip under the hem of your skirt. His fingers crawled up your thigh and he dragged one skilled finger through your wet folds. He gave a satisfied hum as if remembering that his efforts alone had brought you to such a state. With one effortless motion, he pulled your mussed skirt down your legs and backed you into the bed until you fell to the mattress beneath. Immediately, he caged you under his sizeable frame and overwhelmed you with a flurry of plush kisses as he trailed down your waist with ardency. He stopped and sucked at the skin along your hipbones, adorning it with a smattering of tiny red marks that left your body radiating with heat as you struggled to quell your unconstrained spasms. Dio spread your legs to admire you in such an utterly delectable state. More kisses swept down your inner thighs rendering you into an even greater mess than you already were. His tongue lashed against the hollow of your thigh, only lightly venturing to the precipice of your sex until you were worked up into an untempered tizzy.
“Dio, please…” You cried, attempting to grab a handful of his hair to guide him where you needed him to be.
“But darling, you have no idea how divine you look like this. Indulge me, please.” The whiny groan you made in response only served to further his amusement as your hips thrashed wildly in search of greater pleasure.
He lowered his face until you could feel his breath tickle your needy cunt. “Please, I’m begging— oh…” your neck craned back and your lips formed a perfect circle as his tongue glided along your pussy. He spread your folds with two dexterous fingers to gain better access to your dripping entrance. The noise that came from you could only be described as obscene as his tongue ventured inside you, the sounds of your wetness echoed each time he lapped the ample arousal that had been spilled from his previous endeavor. Your nose crinkled in pleasant approval of the generous sensation as the muscles of your stomach returned to a familiar tautness as the stimulation increased.
“Say my name, dear, I want to hear how good it feels.”
“Dio!” You cried as he quickened his pace, only spurred on each time your squirming hips crashed against him in desperation. “Dio, oh, Dio!” Your voice grew louder as his lips circled your clit and you felt him suck lightly at the tender bud. “Just like that.” You whimpered as his fingers traced your entrance before dipping shallowly inside you. Your head fell back, the tension pulled in your core, and your hips bucked wildly and without concern as the pleasure mounted. “Dio! Dio! Dio!” You cried his name an innumerable amount of times as you reached your climax, always unrelentingly intense when he had you in such a way.
He looked up at you from between your legs with a dark, pensive expression as he licked the remainder of your juices off his face. Seeing the way he enjoyed how you tasted never failed to send a shudder through your body that teetered on the verge of embarrassment as your face flushed with a soft rosy glow, but you were unable to dwell on the emotion for too long as Dio returned to his previous position. Kneeling over you, you watched as he quickly discarded his shirt, shortly after he shuffled off his pants and positioned himself over you. You could feel the tip of his cock prodding your entrance.
Your hands found their way to his shoulders as he glided into you. You were so wet that the action felt entirely effortless, you couldn’t help but pull yourself closer to him to savor the feeling of connection as he smoothly thrust into you.
Your body felt awash with serenity as he pressed most of his weight onto you; the warmth of his skin offered a reprieve from the night air that had grown chilly. His lips dragged softly across your neck as he made his way to your ear where he began to whisper to you sweetly. “I love you, darling, more than you could ever imagine.” His hands tangled into your hair as he drew you in for a long, slow kiss that he felt conveyed more than his words could ever when your bodies were intertwined so perfectly as though made to be connected by an unearthly force.
“I love you too.” You sighed through wispy moans as the kiss broke only just momentarily.
You clung to him, wrapping your legs tightly around his waist to deepen the connection further. This provided a far more fortuitous position as he drove steadily into you.
“I am so fortunate to have you in my life, I am so fortunate to be yours.” The admission nearly caught you off guard as the words scrambled in your brain. “You were meant to be mine but I was also meant to be yours.”
You felt warmth bubble deep in your chest; fiery jolts prickled your skin and you could do little to contain the emotion that had been spurred on so intensely. “I love you, Dio, I love you, I love you.” Your entire body went rigid with tension with each precise stroke of his cock that drove you closer to orgasm. His lips crashed onto yours once again, your walls clamped around him as each sensation heightened. Heat filled your body and your head craned back against the pillows to relish in the bliss. His name continued to escape your lips like a desperate prayer, only ceasing when his mouth covered yours again in a kiss that was far greedier than the previous. The rougher, frenetic bucking of his hips let you know that he was close. His arms curled tighter around you, pulling your body impossibly close to his as the sputtering motions grew further disconnected from any real rhythm. Harsher than he intended, he broke the kiss and slotted his head into the crook of your neck to bury the lewd groans he made as he finished. You felt the warmth of his cum pool in your core as he stilled but maintained the connection with you until he was able to regain composure. You felt The heavy rise and fall of his chest as he too sunk into the glorious afterglow.
“Look at that, it’s after midnight.” He said, finally breaking the silence as he glanced over at the clock, the ticking only minutely observable in the stillness of midnight.
“Hm, where did the time go?” You chuckled, feebly looking up at him with your eyes hardly open, completely exhausted. “Happy New Year, Dio”
He raised your hand to his lips and kissed it gently. “Happy New Year to you as well, my dearest.”
Your body was lax against him as you hovered between sleep and wakefulness as he was able to effortlessly pull your naked form to his. Sleepily your arms draped over him, you’d been rendered far too tired to do anything but cuddle against him and accept the tender way in which he petted your hair as though it were a reward for your valiant efforts. “I think this is going to be a good year.” You meekly leaned up to kiss his face as you felt the familiar heaviness of sleep weighing on you.
He interlaced his fingers with yours while languidly running his hand over your hair. “Do you think so?”
“I do, I’ve just got a good feeling.” You rested your head on his chest and closed your eyes.
“If we can be like this every night, I’ll consider it a good one.” He mused and kissed your forehead softly.
You placed your hands across the expanse of his broad chest and leaned in to kiss between his collarbones before you dragged your hand along his slender waist until it came to rest on the defined ridge of his hip bone. “Dio, do you know that I find you incredibly beautiful?”
“I’m aware.”
“And you know that I love you?”
“I do.”
“Then don’t question it. I will always be right here with you. You’ve changed my life.”
“And you have changed mine.”
Notes:
He is in LOVE love, delirious, out of his mind in love.
I do so enjoy making their dorky asses be silly about books.
Reader when she realizes she's actually in love with the smarmiest manwhore of them all :oDio better say he likes Elizabeth Bennet because she was one of my many inspirations behind reader's personality~Some bookkeeping announcements~
I like to think of this chapter as a logical conclusion to what I would consider the first 'arc' of this story, one that I have lovingly dubbed Sentimental Lady (after my fave Fleetwood Mac song).
As such, I think this is a good time for me to take a short break from this story so I can catch up on writing and editing so I'll be able to keep a nice stock of chapters at the ready. I don't want to rush these chapters just for the sake of consistency, but I also don't want to exhaust what I've already written and then have to take an extended break while I desperately try to catch up. So, I have decided to take a break from posting for a couple of weeks (my intention is to be back September 26th with the next update) so I can devote my time exclusively to working on this story without having to post anything. I'm so sorry if that's disappointing to anyone, I do hope you'll all stick around for when I come back.
As silly as it may sound, this story means a good deal to me and I am so beyond grateful that so many are enjoying it as well. It has been such a wonderful experience to share it with you and I have no intention of stopping. When I began posting this story in April, I was writing chapter 30, currently I am writing chapter 41. As the story has gone on, the chapters have gotten much longer and more involved, so it has been slow progression since then, especially when combined with editing previously written chapters to get them ready to post. I would never want to put out something that I am less than proud of and I want to make sure all of the future chapters get all the love and attention that they deserve. I mentioned before that I have no idea how long this story is going to be, but I did a preliminary map a couple of weeks ago and my estimate currently sits at 75 chapters (yikes), so we are still a while away from an ending.
Anyway, I once again want to thank you all for reading along with this story and for all your sweet comments and kind words, if you have gotten any enjoyment out of this fic, just know that I am truly grateful for all of you, you have made this experience such a joy. So, while there will be a couple of weeks without an update, you are more than welcome to check out my tumblr in the meantime where my inbox is always open for questions, requests, or anything of that nature. I also occasionally post really stupid Dio memes that are probably only funny to me. Thank you all once again and I look forward to writing more shortly! :D
Chapter 24: Over My Head
Notes:
I'm back, just like I promised!!! Thank you all for your patience!
(See the end of the chapter for more notes.)
Chapter Text
~January, 1889~
January came in with a haze of icy mush that drowned the entire world in bleak hues of grey. The morning fog hung thickly on the streets and persisted well into the afternoon. The constant droll of your daily commute became nothing more than a cruel annoyance as you made the fool-hearty attempt to settle into your new responsibilities. The excitement you’d had about taking on the more rigorous position quickly waned as the workload piled up into far more than you imagined. In fact, by the end of your first week, you were left feeling rather downcast by the mounting responsibilities that became tougher to keep up with as more and more seemed to fall onto your shoulders than you had bargained for.
The dreary monotony of each day kept a firm hold on you and you began longing for the lazy comforts of your vacation once again as even a temporary adjustment to this demanding position seemed a near impossibility. Your work days were longer than ever; you had been getting up earlier in the morning and not coming home until well in the evening and you couldn’t help but feel that this level of effort was to a degree unsustainable. Though certainly, a leadership position was not without its benefits; more freedom with your research, fewer people looking over your shoulder, and a nice salary increase, but for all it’s good, the difficulties left you worrying that you’d bitten off more than you could chew with such a responsibility. Between the long hours, managing your team, and the incessant questioning glances from disgruntled coworkers who were of the opinion that a woman, such as yourself, was unfit to hold such an important position had become impossible to ignore, you frequently found yourself crawling home to Dio feeling exhausted and defeated. And every night he’d willingly accept you with open arms and offer you the tender reprieve you needed from a world that you seemed less and less suited for.
Truth be told, had been more than helpful, doing all the cooking to make sure you were well-fed and even running errands so you didn’t have to. Without his help, you weren’t exactly sure you could’ve kept up with all the responsibilities demanded by both your work and your home. And even after all, he often insisted on at least walking you to work on his way into town to assure himself that you were safe. A practice you had found a bit old-fashioned, but you had simply grown too tired to worry about any more nuanced details and began to just be thankful for the company.
In all, it had become a nice little routine and you enjoyed the quiet domestic moments you got to share in, even if you ultimately spent less time together. Had it not been for the crushing workload, you may have even found peace in this arrangement for the time being, but as the weeks passed, you found yourself growing wearier than ever, especially when you’d been informed that you and your research group were set to give a lecture on the first of February. So, as the end of January began to approach, your exhaustion hit a wall. No matter how hard you worked, no matter how many extra hours you stayed at the lab, there always seemed to be an unsettling amount of work remaining and you were beginning to doubt your abilities more than you ever had before.
“I’m so sorry about this.” You sighed as your weary body collapsed into Dio’s arms after a particularly grueling day. You’d hardly made it through the door and an overwhelming feeling of enerveration took its hold on you. It took all your might to stay upright until you felt Dio’s strong arms curl around you like a crutch you desperately needed. “I don’t think I’ve been giving you the attention you deserve and you’ve been so helpful. I know this hasn’t been fair to you.”
He said nothing as he brought you to the couch and propped you up beside him. His hands traced along your body in silence, roaming along your delicate curves and down the slope of your legs as though he were studying you with near lethal precision. You could see a heavy glaze of fatigue apparent in his eyes as well. You would be lying if you said your extensive work schedule hadn’t taken a toll on the both of you. As much as you hated to admit it, this arrangement had become less than ideal.
“I promise it’ll get better.” You sighed as you leaned deeper into him and kissed along his arm. “I’ll get the hang of it, I’ll have to.”
“I know you will.” He offered it as a means of understanding, but it was not without a hint of resentment that lingered just on the fringes of his tone.
“I just have to get through this stupid lecture at the university, then I can finally relax, I promise.”
“I hope that is so.”
His stoic platitudes did little to offer you anything but the banal sentiment they were intended to convey. You felt venom lash at the back of your throat as emotion bubbled up inside you. You wanted to be angry with him but when you remembered the previous weeks and how truly supportive he had been, you knew you could not do so in good faith. You gave only a tired sigh as a response before changing the subject. “I think I’m going to take a warm bath, would you care to join me?”
“Hmph, as if you even have to ask such an inane question.” He scoffed and before you could even think of anything else, he’d scooped you up in his arms and carried you to the bath.
He leaned on the edge of the tub with you still supported against him while he let the water run until it was sufficiently warm. Once satisfied with the temperature, he turned to help you undress. Though you had already begun unbuttoning your top, he was more than happy to watch the garment slide off your shoulders as he unbuttoned your pants and let those fall to the floor as well, leaving you standing only in your underwear before him. “Beautiful,” he hummed against your ear as his arms encircled your waist and he tilted your chin with one long dexterous finger to coax you into an affectionate kiss.
You desperately tried to untuck his shirt to force him to the same state of undress as you but were met with little success. Your face fell into a disgruntled pout from your failure. He gave a dry chuckle as he dragged his finger along the line of your jaw with an amused smirk before undoing his belt. The tension slackened as he unbuttoned his trousers which caused his shirt to hang loosely. This allowed you to begin undoing the buttons in a fervent attempt to rid him of the garment altogether. “Hmm, someone is in quite the rush.” He purred as he pushed his pants below his hip. “Are you really so excited for just a mere glimpse of me?”
“W-who wouldn’t be?” You chirped with a timid, lingering lilt to your voice. The steam from the water was making everything hotter and a pink flush had already swept its way across your skin, but feeling Dio’s hands creeping unhurriedly down your back was far too much and your face lit up a bright cherry red. His hands settled on the band of your bra with a curious hesitation as he studied the fastenings. “Having trouble?” You snickered and glanced over your shoulder to look at him. “Has this modern attire left you befuddled?”
He chuckled under his breath and triumphantly undid the clasp. “You must think me inept if you assumed this would be at all difficult. This was far simpler than any corset I’ve seen. However, your strange possessions do fascinate me.”
“Oh, I forgot, you are a man of such unmatched experience.” You rolled your eyes and shrugged off your bra as Dio hastily finished undressing.
“Darling, do not tell me that you have forgotten already.” He jeered, but you heard his breath hitch as he watched you step out of your panties. Your nude form before him was so undeniably enticing that he allowed his heavy hands to cement themselves on your hips. You felt a slight twitch of his cock as he held you against his body for just a brief moment before helping you into the bath.
In an instant, the water enveloped you with a luscious feeling of calm, as if all the stress from the day and all your worries about the lecture faded away amidst the foamy patterns of vanilla scented soap. Your body felt heavy against the ceramic wall of the tub, still tired, you leaned your head to one side to watch Dio as he stepped in beside you. The steam had caused his hair to hang messily around his face in damp waves that clung to his shoulders and his pale skin was tinged with pink as it made contact with the warm water.
“Wow.” You said through an airy exhale, it had been the only word you were able to muster, but it was sufficient enough.
His strong arms drew you in and leaned your malleable body against his. You couldn’t help but ogle him as you traced one finger along his well-defined chest. His skin was slick from the soapy water and you could feel the damp ends of his hair brush against your shoulders as he shifted you into a familiar spot between his legs.
“This is nice,” you mused, putting your full weight against his chest, the deadly comfort had overcome you and you felt you could fall asleep in his arms right there, “being here, like this, with you,” Dio said nothing but pressed his lips squarely on the back of your neck, his lips felt cool compared to the heat of the water, as such you could feel a curious chill run down your spine. As if in a subtle reassurance, he placed his left hand over yours and interlaced his fingers between yours. “Dio, have I told you how much I appreciate everything you do for me?” Still silent, he traced his lips down your neck and across your shoulder, goosebumps prickled over your skin in response and you settled yourself deeper in the water as if to hide the diffidence that had bubbled up inside you. “You-you’ve just been so good, so understanding, and I feel awful putting you on the back burner the way I have been. It really isn’t fair,” you continued lazily as you pulled one of your knees to your chest with a gentle splash of the water as you eased into the new position.
“I think, perhaps, you have forgotten all that you have done for me, this is the least I could do for you.” He placed his free hand on your newly exposed knee and caressed it gently.
You could do little to conceal the look of utter amazement on your face; so shocked had you been by his response that all your words came out a jumbled mess of fragmented sentiments. “B-but, I didn’t do all of those things for you to get something back from you…”
“And I am not doing this to get something out of you.” You could not see his face, but you sensed a sternness to his voice, and if your insinuation offended him. “Although, one thing might be nice.” He let his words simmer in audacious implication as his hand left your knee and cupped your breast.
“It has been a little while.” You nodded while rubbing your hand along the length of his leg that rested beside you.
“Yes, quite a little while.” He emphasized the word a little coolly; it had been longer than you intended since the last time you’d made love to him. After being far too worn out the entire week before, you’d hoped to spend some time enjoying him the way you’d been able to during your break, but when the weekend came you were still so tired that you couldn’t summon the energy to do anything, let alone entertain Dio’s voracious sexual appetite. Rather crestfallen, he accepted your refusal and let you sleep through most of the weekend and placated his desires in the everyday, platonic acts of affection he was able to engage you in without detriment to your health. In all, over the several weeks that had passed since the onset of January, you could count the amount of times you’d been intimate with each other on one hand. A sharp, exponential decline that seemed comparatively underwhelming to the perfervid passion that December had seen.
It hadn’t been an ideal arrangement for either of you. You missed his affections more than you could tell and he missed the way your eager body would writhe beneath his, so diligently responsive to his every command as he indulged in you in a way far more meaningful than he ever had with another. Sex had far surpassed the simple means of attaining pleasure and had become an act of shared intimacy. One in which Dio felt his feelings were most open with you. It had become an unspoken comfort for him to luxuriate in such carnal needs, then pull your body sleepily to his to retain the feeling of hazy bliss captured in the rhythmic drumming of your heartbeat. The casual disruption of this routine was less than welcome and more than a bit concerning. This particular look of exhaustion is one he only wanted to see on your face after he’d fucked you absolutely senseless.
The misty fog left by the bath hung about the room as you stepped from the bath and wrapped your hair in a towel. Dio came behind you and wrapped another tightly around your shoulders before dotting a soft kiss against your neck. “I’ll meet you in bed.” You said slyly and ran your fingers through his wet hair before effortlessly slinking away.
But when you got to your bedroom you felt that same all-encompassing exhaustion that took over your body like a weight. You laid yourself down on the bed, looking up dreamily at Dio while he discarded the towels from your body and kissed down from the corner of your jaw down your neck passed your collar bones and between your breasts, all the while your mouth let out innocent breathy whines in response. He looked at you hungrily, his hand tracing down your waist until it rested firmly against your pelvic bone. But when he saw that sleepy look in your eyes he pulled back with a sour expression. “You’re too tired.”
“No, I can—”
“You’re too tired,” he reiterated, pressing his finger against your forehead, “and it won’t be any fun if you just lie there and take it.”
It felt as though he had been scolding you, more likely than not it had come from a place of care, but it stung all the same. Suddenly, devoid of all rationality, you felt a wave of emotion strike you as brackish tears dripped from your eyes in an ugly tempest. Maybe it was the long hours, maybe it was the lack of intimacy you’d felt, maybe it was the stress of your impending lecture, probably some blend of the three but there was no stopping the flood of emotion that overcame you. “I’m sorry, I’m so sorry, I don’t know what’s wrong with me!” You sniveled, feeling utterly pathetic with your face buried in his chest and your hands curled into tiny fists. Just as he had before, he did not know how to handle you when you worked yourself up to such a state. It seemed foreign to him to soothe someone. To hold them close and tell them sweet things, true or otherwise, to placate their unease. But this time was different. This time you were his, he loved you, and having you in his arms felt second nature, as though it was where you’d belonged from the start. “I thought I could do it, I thought I could handle this job, I thought it would be different but I’m faltering, just like I did back home. I’m… I’m going to fail.”
“You are not going to fail.”
“I am, I’m going to get up to that podium and I’m going to forget everything I’ve ever learned and I’m going to look like an idiot. And then all those men who think I’m some two-bit American tramp who must’ve slept with the boss to get my position are going to be sure they’re right and they’ll talk and talk and then their gnawing stares will never stop and I’ll be nothing, just like I was…” You pulled away from him and fell against the mattress with your head slotted into the crook of your elbow to catch the tears.
Dio pulled you up firmly by your shoulders, forcing you to look at him again. “Stop it! You will not fail. You will be amazing because you are charming and brilliant and because I am going to be there watching you, so you have no other choice but to be.”
You wiped the remaining tears with the back of your arm as you regained a bit of composure, though an unmistakable quiver remained in your voice. “Dio, I told you that you didn’t have to come.”
“I’m coming.” He retorted, still holding onto your shoulders, but less harshly than before. You eased and fell defeated into his arms, a headache pounding behind your eyes from the intensity of your outburst.
Dio had gotten out of bed to retrieve a nightshirt from your armoire and dropped it in your lap. Hastily you pulled the fabric over your head and watched while Dio dressed himself for bed. He returned to your side and instantly you sprung into his arms; pacified by the welcome heaviness of his hands on your body. “When is your lecture?”
“It’s Friday, February 1st, at Hugh Hudson Academy, it’s supposed to start at seven, but I’ll have to be there at least an hour earlier, so six.”
“Hugh Hudson, huh?”
“Yes, I’ve never been there, but I heard the campus is lovely, do you know where it is?”
“I do, I went there.” A grim expression was scrawled over his face as he contemplated the arrangement.
“You… you don’t have to go.”
“I’m going,” he reiterated sternly, letting his fingers brush through the tangled coils of your still-damp hair
“Okay, well, if you're certain I’ll be glad to have you there.”
“I know you will.” He smiled that wily, self-assured smile as he ruffled your hair. “Now get some rest, you have been working much too hard lately.”
“I’m sorry, I’m just so worried—”
“No more worries for the rest of the night.”
You did as you’d been told, you nestled into his arms and let sleep take you. For the first time in nearly a month, you felt peaceful. It was almost pleasant. But still, that voice in the back of your head continued to nag you full of a looming sense of self-doubt that spilled over into your dreams. You had been so confident about this position only to be ruthlessly humbled in so short a time that you had ventured into the realm of disconsolation. It seemed you had put too much stock in the arbitrary benefits that your 21st-century experience had lent you, but once you realized the gaps in knowledge that you had regarding 19th-century science, you couldn’t help but feel as you had the year before you’d been misplaced in time. The writing was on the wall, you could almost see it all play out in your head, it would be another brilliant defeat and how could you come back from that? Self-abasing thoughts swirled through your brain like mad, any one of the unfortunate realities you foresaw could come true. How could you handle being nothing again? All your life, you had searched for something that was all your own, and you found it in the unlikeliest of places. What a pity it would be to watch it all go up in smoke. You felt the tightening of Dio’s arm around your waist to soothe your restive slumber and all at once, your mind felt at ease.
Notes:
Damn, I made you all wait two whole weeks just to come back with a cock block... I am truly sorry.
Man, it really seems like reader is working herself too hard, I'm sure that Dio, a man who has no trauma with this specific circumstance will be able to address the problem with a cool, level head that does not at all exacerbate the situation...right? Hahahaha...right???
Chapter 25: My Old School
Notes:
who's ready to give a lecture on electromagnetism?!
(See the end of the chapter for more notes.)
Chapter Text
~February 1st, 1889~
The end of the week had come rather quickly and the Friday sun flickered through the dusty purple morning sky like silken strands of woven gold. Had it been any other week, you would have welcomed it with open arms, but this week in particular, you knew that Friday brought with it the lecture at Hugh Hudson Academy which had been looming over you for the last several weeks. You had left early and walked quietly beneath the dawn skies, all the world around you still appeared to be fast asleep in their comforting beds. Quite uncanny it felt as you trotted against the cobblestone with only the echoes of your footsteps to break the reticence of the morn. With the onset of February, a curious warmth seemed to hang in the air, as if teasing the arrival of spring within winter’s icy clutches. Only the blustery breeze off the Atlantic seemed to recall the presence of winter. You dwelled on the idea of spring and the balmy weather to follow. Distant days of warmth and scattered sunshine set your mind at ease just enough to prevent the claws of anxiety from gripping too tightly into you. For as much as you loved the snowy days of winter, the ice and the sleeting rain had grown wearisome and you had begun longing for the days to be full of vernal blossoms and temperate air.
You had spent the entire day at work tottering from one task to another, making sure you and all of your associates had everything in order for the night ahead. You felt as though they had all had about enough of your incessant questioning by the middle of the afternoon that they were more than eager to rush you out. Once you had been able to convince yourself you really had not forgotten anything, you did indeed decide to depart for the day, leaving early for the first time in a month so that you would have enough time to get yourself ready for such a spectacle as you had never been involved in.
You clung to your lingering worries over how you would conduct yourself in front of a crowd as you swung open the door into the glow of the early evening sun. Much to your surprise, you found Dio waiting for you at the door.
As if immediately liberated of all anxieties, you rushed into his arms and were caught in a long embrace that cradled you the way the horizon cradled the fading sun. “What are you doing here?”
“Am I not allowed to pick up a lovely little lady from her work?”
“Hm, only if that lovely little lady is your girlfriend.”
“Well, then isn’t this a fortuitous encounter?” He beamed with a commanding sense of bravado held captive in each nuance of his haughty tone. But as quickly as his arrogance has arisen, it depleted back to a casual air of nobility as he quickly placed a kiss on your forehead and offered you his arm to walk home.
Unbeknownst even to Dio, one of Speedwagon’s compatriots had been watching the entire affair play out. Truthfully, he had been watching for several weeks. He had caught sporadic sightings of Dio throughout town ever since the start of the new year, several times he had caught him in the vicinity of the laboratory, enough times to cause him to be suspicious and report the tidings to Speedwagon that all sights should be focused there, especially after Zeppeli’s supposition regarding the origin of the paper.
While he had been able to track Dio many times, Dio’s sharp, almost feline, senses had always made him aware when someone was watching him. As such, he would lead his pursuers through a labyrinth of different streets across town, eventually losing them in the process. It hadn’t been a particularly pleasant task, but he believed it a necessary one, lest it be a detriment to your safety. He could deal with a degree of unpleasantness so long as you were kept free from it all and should any of these vermin ever pose a threat to you, then they would simply have to be dealt with. But so far, trouble had not come and he had become accustomed to these occasional pursuits and had gotten rather good at leading those who tailed him astray. Because of this, no one had ever successfully tracked him back to your flat, and he had intended on keeping it that way. The home he now shared with you was a sacred sanctuary, one he did not want infiltrated by any disreputable characters from his past.
On this particular night, however, his thoughts were elsewhere.
He was eager to keep you calm as you prepared for what would undoubtedly be the first of several spectacular lectures, but beneath the surface, he was filled with a bitter apprehension about returning to his university. There were likely going to be people he knew there; and while those people only knew the side of him he’d shown throughout his studies, he wondered if his disappearance in November had become the subject of local gossip; if it had, he wondered how much of the truth had been realized. Moreover, he couldn’t be certain that talk of his sudden appearance would not reach the Joestars; his father did have a great many connections at the university, it was an undeniable plausibility. But for the moment, he found the strength of mind to brush off his own worries for your sake, if a problem arose, he would simply have to take care of it. There were means of dealing with these unfavorable outcomes. Savory or not, your safety was of the utmost importance in any case.
“How are you feeling about tonight, prepared?” He asked in an uncharacteristically dulcet tone that he hardly ever summoned except when appealing to your most tender senses.
“As much as I can be, I suppose,” you held his arm a little tighter which leaned to the belief that you were still not nearly as confident as he felt you ought to be. “I am, however, hoping to find some pictures of you at the university, especially of you in your rugby uniform.” You simpered behind a toothy grin.
“We did win our final game last year, so, who knows, maybe you’ll get lucky.” He drew out the final word long and slow as he brushed his hand against your hip. To another, the touch would’ve seemed innocent enough, perhaps accidental, but knowing Dio, you knew that there was far more to it.
He led you in the front door, taking a cautious look around, assuring himself all was well, it seemed to be, but perhaps his guard had been let down just enough not to notice the figure that had followed only several steps behind. It was early, after all, it would not have been odd to see another person on the street. Perhaps he simply hadn’t noticed.
Dio followed you to the bedroom where you had laid out a lovely lavender dress across your bed in preparation for the event. And so you began primping. You sat at your vanity wearing nothing but your undergarments as you applied your makeup. Your hair had been put up in a conservative but rather becoming style that kept any disobedient strands off your face.
He moved across the room and plastered himself to your side, placing a firm hand on your shoulder. “Do not distract me, this is a delicate procedure.” You snapped, lightly poking him with your finger to push him off. He clicked his tongue in discontentment as he watched you apply a narrow black line across the edge of your eyelashes.
Naturally, he’d seen you put on makeup before, he was especially fond of your various shades of lipstick, especially enticed by the thought of the marks they could leave behind if you were to trail kisses down the length of his body and ultimately resulting in a pale ring of color around the base of his cock. He would be lying if he said even the mere idea was not particularly arousing. Though in all the times before, he had never seen you quite so focused and precise with the application. “I hope you aren’t trying to impress anyone tonight.” He sneered, meeting your gaze through the mirror.
“Hmm, maybe one person in particular,” you replied casually, not taking your focus off your task. “Though I think he may already be aware of how desperately I want to impress him.”
He reached onto your vanity and pulled out a tube of lipstick in a shade of deep merlot. “Well, if that is the case, then maybe you’ll catch his attention if you wear this one.”
You snatched the lipstick from his hand and smudged it onto your lips with a heavy sigh. “Happy?”
A wry smirk set across his face as he held his chin ponderously before pulling you in for a messy kiss that transferred the deep red color all over his mouth. “Very.” He snarled, his lips looked as though they had been stained with a dark wine.
With a dissatisfied huff, you reapplied the lipstick, making sure it was all in place. A red would look salacious enough, the last thing you needed was for everyone to see it smudged all over the face of the gentleman who was accompanying you. You dragged your tongue against a clean handkerchief and wiped the remaining color off his lips. The lines of his brows furrowed deeply as he stumbled back; catching your arm before the two of you fell back onto the bed. “Have you finished?”
“I will not have you embarrassing me at my event!”
“My dear, I will do no such thing, I wouldn't even dream of it.”
You cast a quizzical expression his way; knowing he could probably concoct several elaborate schemes to do just that at the drop of a hat.
Collecting yourself, you stepped into the dress, it fit you like a glove. You felt the fine fabric caress your skin in a soft embrace; it was much finer than anything you’d have been able to afford had it been bought new. It may have been one of the finest things you owned. Looking at yourself in the mirror, you thought you’d never worn anything that fit you so perfectly. Each stitch was tailor-made for your exact specification and you couldn’t help but admire your appearance.
Dio laced up the dress and was met with the same impression. It hugged every line and curve of your body that he’d come to adore so deeply, the pale lavender color looked stunning on you as well, it complimented the tone of your skin, your sparkling eyes, and even the soft strands of your hair. Everything about you was dazzling.
“Do I look alright?” You asked as you stepped into a modest pair of black heels with a neat strap and buckle; they were so low that they hardly qualified as such, but they assured you that you would not be tripping over yourself.
“You look marvelous.” he whispered against your ear, his voice dripping with eager sensuality as he grabbed your ass in an emphatic gesture.
“Hey, don’t wrinkle the fabric!” You scolded, craning your neck to cast him a stern look that was more forced than you would have wanted it to be.
He hummed devilishly as he smoothed the fabric where his hands had been. “I’ll behave, for now and make sure this pretty, pretty dress is kept perfect,” His hands trailing slowly over your ass as he continued his efforts to fix the dress far more than had been required, “because when we get home, I’m going to fuck you in it.”
Your face flushed cherry red, you were far too excited at the prospect to even consider keeping a straight face. “Is-is that a promise?”
“It is indeed, one I intend to make good on.” His gleaming eyes were stern, fixed on you with a burning intensity that flickered with golden embers, you thought that if you moved even an inch closer he’d have you then and there. You could be locked in the brilliant ardent passion you’d been lacking for nearly a month and then you’d be saved from having to give your lecture at all. Certainly, The thought of Dio rutting into you, the cool feeling of the fabric against your skin in contrast to your heated flesh would be a welcome reprieve as your back arched off the mattress to accept him deeper into you was a far more tantalizing idea than the reality that loomed before you. You kept yourself from dwelling on the fantasy too long, lest it override all the things you’d worked so painstakingly hard to memorize for your lecture; keeping the thought in the back of your mind, with any luck it would be made a reality once the event was over.
Dio led you outside and into the carriage. You watched from the window as the last light of evening just barely illuminated the sky of fresh February in a magnificent tangerine that hung dimly above the horizon.
You faded into the drone of the carriage wheels over the cobblestone as the ride wore on, relaxing into Dio’s embrace as he loosely draped his arm around you.
By the time the last flecks of dusk were swept out of the sky, you could see the murky shadows of Hugh Hudson Academy standing in the distance. Tall and looming and magnificent, it carried with it a dignified sense of academic importance.
Your carriage came to a grinding halt at the front gates, you made an attempt to pay the driver, but he informed you the fare had already been covered by your work in exchange for your presence tonight. Upon hearing that, you suddenly felt very important, your nerves nearly melted away as Dio led you onto the grounds of the campus.
It was indeed beautiful, you could only think to compare it to the Ivy League schools you’d seen back home. Splendid and academic, daunting and brilliant, like something that didn’t quite feel as though it belonged to the real world; something almost solemn and fantastical. Your dad had gone to Yale and your mom had gone to Harvard, you however, had gone to neither, but you remembered walking on both campuses in your childhood, touring the old libraries and looking through the vast repertoire of books housed in each one. As a child you had pined for that kind of life, to follow in your parents’ footsteps, but as you got older you pulled yourself down a different path. Your headlong run into the sciences and contemptuous refusal of the path that had been predetermined as your birthright. This objection to what was supposed to be your future was a contentious topic amongst some of your more distant relatives who whispered secretly of the petulant child who seemingly felt herself too good for tradition. Far too capricious for your own good. And while the choice had dismayed your parents, your mother would never admit it, she respected your headstrong commitment to your own desires; you reminded her more of herself than either you or she wanted to admit.
Dio led you across the rugby field, it was cast almost entirely in darkness, save for the glow of the lamps that illuminated the paths that crossed throughout campus. He stopped near a small section of bleachers where an article from the campus newspaper had been modestly framed. “Is this what you wanted to see?” He asked with an aloof affection to his voice.
You studied the pictures, the entire rugby team stood in their striped uniforms celebrating their stupendous victory. Even in the questionable quality of the black and white photograph, you could see Dio’s blond hair, colorless on the tan sheet of newsprint as he basked triumphantly atop his other teammates enjoying all the splendor of his victory. He had not looked as out of place as you would have thought, maybe even hoped he would have. No, it remained true, Dio could manage to fit in anywhere, his chameleon-like personality and unmatched charisma left all those who met him at the mercy of his various charms. It had been so easy for you to fall for him, but as far as you could see it, the real miracle had been that he’d fallen for you in tandem.
“You look adorable,” you teased, playfully pinching his cheek.
He gave a low chuckle before grabbing your wrist and pulling your hand away. “Is that what you really think, my dear, adorable?” He asked as he leaned down to kiss your forehead, your wrist still locked under his grasp.
“I certainly do, look at that face!” You cooed, pointing with your free hand to a picture of him with a bright smile on his face.
“Don’t you think that's a rather trite endearment for one such as I?”
“I think you’re just embarrassed that I think you're cute.”
“Cute?”
“Oh, would you rather me call you handsome, or sexy, perhaps charming, or intelligent?”
“Yes, I think any of those would be far more suitable than cute.”
“Well, you are indeed all of those things, but cute as well.”
“Perhaps as my darling—”
“As your girlfriend.”
“Perhaps as my girlfriend, you may be awarded certain liberties that others would not be allowed.” He crooned, finally relinquishing your hand, but not before placing a gentle kiss on the back of it.
“My, how very kind of you, Lord Brando.”
“These are privileges awarded only to you, my dear.”
“Good.” You responded curtly, lacing your fingers through his hair and pulling him back into a kiss. His hands fell heavy on your hips as he savored the moment. “You do though,” you said, looking back over the pictures, “you really do look adorable, and happy too.”
He thought back to that evening not so long ago. If anyone else were to look at the picture, he undoubtedly looked happy, but he knew that it had all been a farce. Just one part to a grander scheme he’d been playing at for years. Such wasted time. He recalled how it all crumbled at his feet the moment he met you.
No longer did any of those ambitions matter, all of his priorities had realigned with you in mind. You had broken him, you had rebuilt him. There were not many men alive who could say they’d bested Dio Brando, and you stood above all of them, the only woman to ever do so. He looked away from the article, thinking how much easier it would’ve been if he’d just enjoyed the moments of his life, perhaps he could have been happy with all the things he had. Perhaps it was a shame to have wasted it all the way he so callously had.
“I guess looks can be deceiving, especially yours,” you said, patting his shoulder tenderly upon seeing the strain lurking behind his eyes. “Now then, which is JoJo?”
He rolled his eyes and exhaled sharply in annoyance before pressing his finger against the glass to focus your attention on one figure in particular.
“Woah, he’s even bigger than you!” You exclaimed as you observed the picture of the tall, well-built, dark-haired man with features far softer than Dio’s. Even in pictures alone, you could tell he exuded an air of kindliness and gentility. A curious pang of sadness stung in your heart, the thought that Dio could look so happy next to his brother but for it all to have been a lie. You wished it could be different, you wished for him that he could have that kind of happy normalcy he’d rejected before. Even though Dio assured you he had no intention of fixing the relationship, you held out a quiet hope that this was also a lie, that he would come to change his mind and realize he longed for reconciliation with his family. But in time, in his own time, he needed time. Time to heal the wounds he’d neglected through the years of turmoil.
You noticed the grimace on his face and glanced at the photo one last time, “but you are far more handsome.”
“Hmph, obviously,” he scoffed, but truthfully, he did enjoy having the fact confirmed. He lightly kissed the top of your head as though a reward for your shrewd judgment.
“You are quite lucky I didn’t know you while you attended school here.” You remarked with a characteristic slyness in your tone.
“And why is that?”
“Because I’m not sure I would’ve been able to keep my hands off you in that silly little uniform of yours.”
He took your hand and cast you a wily smirk before he began walking you towards the lecture hall. “And who’s to say I wouldn’t have enjoyed that?”
“I’m sure you got plenty of attention on your own.”
“Perhaps I did.” His lips widened into a cheeky grin that made him appear something more akin to a schoolboy. “But is that not all in the past?”
“So it is.” You replied, not allowing yourself to dwell on those recollections lest you be confronted with an ugly jealousy you would not allow yourself to have. However many women Dio had bedded before you mattered little if he only ever loved you, but still you couldn’t help but wonder, even if only briefly, with such unmatched skills in the bedroom, just how many lovers he had known in the reckless decadence of his youth?
Dio left you at the door while you went in to set things up, adjusting your lipstick in your compact before entering to ensure that nothing would suggest anything indecent.
You spent some time looking over your notes and conferring with your colleagues to be perfectly certain that everything was in its place as it ought to be.
You took one last deep breath before getting into place. The lecture hall was crowded, more crowded than you’d have expected for a Friday night discussion on the elementary principles of electromagnetism. You all at once felt wracked by your nerves. Wholly incapable again. You fiddled with the hem of your dress as you scanned the crowd, not stopping until you spotted Dio. As it was, you found him sitting at the end of a row towards the back. Just knowing he was there, within view, caused you to relax a little. There was no turning back, come what may you would be forced to see it through to the end.
You stood at the podium and swallowed the rest of your fears, though apprehension still felt sticky in your throat. “Good evening ladies and gentlemen, I want to thank you all for joining me on this fine evening, I'm sure there are a million and one better things you could be doing tonight, so I will try to keep this brief and as entertaining as a subject that utilizes the term ‘total differential’ can be.”
Your gaze swept across the room, as expected, it was mostly full of young men, but there were a handful of women. The realization was almost comforting. Even in the 21st century, you were often met with surprise when you would mention your chemistry degree. To see women so far before you felt refreshing.
And so you continued your speech with only a modicum of uncertainty in your voice, the humility was enough to offset some of the subversive sensationalism of your status as the betokened female scientist that may have drawn more attention than your male contemporaries would have wanted to credit you for. And every time a tremor rang through your nerves, you anchored your gaze upon Dio and you felt the unease wash away in the temperate connection that existed even in the crowded room.
Notes:
me back on my bullshit of setting too many things up at once.
If anyone is curious, the dress reader is wearing to her lecture is the same one she had tailored way back in like chapter 4!
And yes, the use of terms like boyfriend and girlfriend are glaring anachronisms, but I think it's disgustingly cute to make 19th century man use modern slang.
Did I cut the chapter here just so I didn't have to bore you guys with more science jargon? Perhaps. Believe me, just the reference to differential equations is triggering my fight or flight response.
But if you guys are wondering why her research overlaps into physics that's because at the time the physical sciences were more or less captured under the catch-all term of "natural philosophy" and not separated into specific disciplines like they are now, so while reader has a 21st Century chemistry degree, her work in the 19th Century deals with any of the contemporary sciences at the time and electromagnetism was a focus thenand also because I have much more training in physics than chemistry. Back then, the sciences like chemistry and physics, especially those that dealt with the experimental side of things, weren't considered prestigious at all, some scientists weren't even classically trained (see Michael Faraday). Dio's law degree would've been way more impressive than a science degree.I'm so excited for the next few chapters so we'll see if I'm able to stick to this once a week upload schedule! AHHHHH!
Chapter 26: She's Always a Woman
Notes:
Kicking my feet back and forth with glee while posting this one
CW: semi pubic sex, I'm sure you might've been able to guess ;p
(See the end of the chapter for more notes.)
Chapter Text
You breezed through the evening and with your lecture finished you breathed a heavy sigh of relief. The immense weight off your shoulders was immediately apparent, but it had indeed gone far better than you had expected. While you stumbled over your words occasionally and there had been a couple of questions that left you scrambling your brain for an answer that didn’t lean into special relativity or any other 20th-century science that you postulated would lead to repercussions far beyond the scope of a few raised eyebrows, nor could you risk the possibility of the general public becoming wise to your predicament. That was a secret shared only between you and Dio and that was precisely how you intended to keep it. But on the whole, you were happy with your performance, even happier once it was over and you could rejoin Dio whilst the rest of the crowd intermingled. You knew that you would be expected to make the rounds and chat with whoever your boss would push you onto, but you were still harboring the hope of absconding attention in favor of an early exit. The sooner you got home, the sooner you’d indulge in the affection that had been assured to you.
“I believe I told you that everything would be fine.” He simpered, patting your head as though you were nothing more than a disgruntled child.
“I guess you were right.” You conceded, no amount of correction nor playful castigations could pull you out of the glittering swirl of satisfaction that you determined to carry with you the rest of the evening. Without even so much as a discourteous taunt, you wrapped your arms around Dio’s waist, holding him tightly just to appreciate the pleasure that proximity provided you. “Thank you for being here, it meant more to me than you could ever imagine.”
His eyes widened a bit unsettled by the suddenness of such an overly affectionate public display, but he quickly eased into it, welcoming it even. After all, everyone ought to know that you belonged to him.
His face nuzzled into the crook of your neck, he wanted to kiss you, in fact, he intended to, had it not been for the impatient stare of one of the girls from the audience he would have. She feigned a cough to get your attention, waiting for you to untangle yourself from Dio’s arms before speaking. “Pardon, but would you mind giving a statement for the newspaper?”
“O-oh, sure,” you gave her a chagrined smile as you smoothed out your dress to reestablish your professional appearance and gestured to a group of empty chairs.
Before she sat, she cast a carefully scrutinizing glance towards Dio; sharp eyes almost ruthless in the way she observed him with a degree of familiarity that he could not quite place. With teeth clenched he attempted to choke back his exasperation but before he could even endeavor any sort of recollection she’d turned her attention to you and began asking you a series of rapid-fire questions, punctiliously jotting your responses in her notebook.
“What made you want to pursue a career in the sciences?”
“Oh, well I suppose it had always been an interest of mine and I was greatly privileged to be able to study it while I was still living in America.”
“I see, that is rather interesting, if you're from America, how did you find yourself here?”
“You know, for one reason or another, work mostly, I suppose. I fell into this job as soon as I got here so I guess things worked themselves out.”
“And you just worked your way up to a prominent position, did you ever find it more difficult, as a woman?”
“Of course, it’s truly a shame that there are still people who question a woman’s abilities, but I allow my work to speak for itself.”
“Fascinating, do you often find men expressing their discontent with your position?”
“Oh, yes, here and there. Perhaps less than one may think, but certainly some find it unfit. However, I have been very fortunate to have a supportive family, a supportive partner, and a boss who was willing to take a chance on me. I would not have a fraction of what I have today if not for all the wonderful people who have assisted me along the way. I really do owe them all a good deal of thanks.” You swallowed thickly, imagining how your parents may have felt to see you succeed, to see you so marvelously happy and the thought was enough to crack the glittering veneer of your spectacular evening.
“I see, that does require a great deal of luck. Now, while there have been significant strides in educational opportunities for women over the last quarter of a century, do you believe that it’s important to encourage more women to pursue careers in the sciences?”
You thought for a second, carefully selecting each word. “No, not in and of itself. I think it’s important for a woman to pursue a career in whatever she wants, science is lovely, and a wonderful career for a woman if that’s what she chooses, but she should always be able to choose. Women shouldn’t be expected to acquiesce to a life of domesticity and child-rearing. Not that choosing that life is wrong, but it should always be a choice. The world is a beautiful place, so rich with opportunity, and women should be allowed to experience it with the same fullness that would be allowed to a man. But I do believe that we are just on the precipice of many great things to come, hopefully in the very near future.” You bit your lip, hoping you hadn’t spoken too far out of turn.
She gave a wordless reply of scattered hums as she continued to scribble notes onto the page. You made a slight attempt to see what she was writing, but it was unsuccessful and you dared not make yourself too obvious. “Thank you for your time, this was quite illuminating.”
You thanked her as well and she went on her way, all but disappearing into the crowd. Once you’d been free of the obligation, Dio made an attempt to cut in, but several more people came up to you eager to engage you in further questioning. With the appropriate amount of enthusiasm mustered, you put on your best face and kindly indulged their curiosity as well as you could. You looked for an out at every chance, but the conversation seemed never-ending. Finally, once you were all talked out, you thanked them for their questions and backed away, attempting to duck out of sight when you saw your boss crossing the room so as to not be cajoled into another discussion.
Dio had a look of great annoyance across his face when next you saw him, none too pleased with the lack of attention he'd been subjected to. “Now, is it finally my turn?” He snarled, pulling you tightly against him.
“Please, I’m so exhausted, I need a break.” You sighed as you nuzzled against his chest, causing a few strands of hair to fall out of place and hang around the side of your face.
“Hmm, well alright, if you are so insistent I would be happy to oblige you.”
You hadn’t the time to guess what he had so crassly implied before he grabbed your arm and led you out the door and into the hallway. In the soft stillness, you found yourself at ease, the silence was a welcome reprieve from the commotion just beyond the door.
In an instant, however, Dio had pinned you against the wall while he kissed fervidly along your jaw. “Dio, someone might see us!” You exclaimed, barely choking the words out in you extending your neck to give him a better angle as his lips continued their relentless pursuit.
“Let them, I want them all to know that you're mine and no one else’s.” He growled, teeth grazing against the skin of your neck as he shifted against you with one strong hand cemented to your hip. His body was flush against yours, cloaking you in an intense heat that drew you in further. Even if you had wanted to pull away, you couldn’t have, Dio had you locked against the wall, his solid frame looming before you with a devilish sparkle in his eyes. Any movement you could attempt to make was restrained by his impressive stature; even meager movements were curtailed under his strength as you lightly brushed against him. “Fuck,” he hissed, you could feel his cock twitch as you leaned into him. “You… in that dress. Look at what a pitiless creature you reduce me to.” He growled several vulgar intentions between placing hot, plush kisses along your throat and grinding his hips into yours so you could feel his hardening length.
With an abruptness that felt nearly harsh, he pulled away from you and grabbed your arm to drag you several paces down the hall. Your quiet footsteps echoed softly down the expansive hall accompanied by the giggles you’d been trying to repress as Dio led you into the nearest empty room; an office he vaguely recalled as belonging to the head of the Science Department. He had only been there a handful of times when he took a course in elementary mechanics to satisfy the science requirement for his law degree. Of course, he’d made a straight A, so he had not thought about the office since then, not until a sudden usefulness for the location appeared. While the handle had been locked, fortuitously the door had been left ajar. Dio was relatively certain that his former professor would not mind if he borrowed his office for a while. He keenly looked over the room to ensure that it was indeed vacant before he ushered you inside and diligently locked the door behind you.
The instant that he was assured you were alone, he pulled you in for a rough kiss; his lips burned against your skin, stoking the desire that had built up over the several weeks that had lacked in proper affection. His firm hands caressed every inch of your body until you were mere putty in his hands for him to play with however he saw fit.
Still tangled deeply in the kiss, he walked you backwards until you felt the desk at the back of your legs. Whatever files the professor had left on his desk were shoved to the side in a cluttered heap of disorganized papers in Dio’s attempt to make room enough for you to sit. Not breaking the kiss for a second, he lifted you onto the desk and hiked your dress up above your hips to remove any obstruction. Satisfied with the positioning, he guided his hand along the top of your panties, digits teasing just beneath the hem. You whined for his touch, you knew damn well you weren’t going to last until you got back to your house. Desire welled up inside you and firmly took its hold over any of your better senses. The anticipation of him fucking you had never been far from your mind throughout the entire night and only seemed a more tantalizing prospect amidst the scandal of your little tryst and the way he looked at you, his face already a mess of your lipstick only solidified your yearning.
He ignored the sounds of your pleasure in favor of attending to himself. He peeled off his jacket and let it fall to the floor. He then palmed his hand over his erection and undid his belt. “Dio, please!” You continued to whine, watching his skillful hands unfasten his pants only seemed to egg you on. “Touch me!”
He clicked his tongue tauntingly, in blatant mockery of your desperation. How easy it was to work you up to such a fervid state. Even so, he saw no reason to deny you further. One hand moved to your waist; the tips of his fingers trailed down your abdomen, soft as feathers until he reached your panties. He traced along each lacy hem, first along the top and then running his fingers along your thighs. Slow and deliberate in each movement as though studying each reaction you gave. Suddenly, one finger pressed firmly into the spot where your wetness had soaked through the fabric. “So filthy” he chided, his fingers rubbing your clit through your panties. “You act so professional out there, but only I know the truth. What must you have been thinking about to cause all of this?” He pulled your panties to the side and effortlessly slipped two fingers inside your slick entrance. “Whatever it was, it must’ve been incredibly naughty.”
Your breath hitched as you angled your hips into his hand; head falling back unseemly when you felt him curl his fingers inside of you, pressing against your tight walls with scrupulous precision. “Th-they say when you’re nervous that you’re supposed to picture the audience naked,” you started, hardly able to spit out the words as your hips continued to roll with the pace of his fingers, “but it doesn’t really work when the only person you’re looking at is someone you’ve already seen naked, and you know just how intimidatingly beautiful he is without any clothes on.”
“Hmph, I see,” he attempted to scowl at you for your behavior, but it came out as a light-hearted chuckle instead, rather amused with your response. He pulled his fingers out from you and licked them clean of your sticky arousal. “I want more.” He boldly declared, pulling you to the edge of the desk by your legs and rolling your soaked panties completely off of you before situating himself between your legs. “How terribly unbecoming of a lady.” He jeered, eyes burning into you as he inched closer to your dripping core. “It would certainly be a shame if anyone else saw through your little act, so you had better keep quiet.” Slowly, he pressed his tongue against you, slipping it ever so gently between your folds, allowing your arousal to pool on his tongue as he roamed deeper into your needy cunt. A lustful grunt fell from his lips as his mouth filled with the taste of you, he gripped you by the hips and pulled you even closer to him, you were by far the best thing he’d ever tasted, and the heaving of your chest and the praises that dripped from your mouth as he brought your body closer to the first of what he intended to be several orgasms he would coax out of you thought the course of the night was an even better sight than he could’ve imagined.
After holding back from you for so long, Dio could not believe just how desperate he was at the prospect of having you again, despite the amount of time you had been intimate over the course of your relationship, he found the idea of intertwining his body with yours just as tantalizing as it had been the first time. In his fervor his tongue licked wherever he pleased, messy and disorganized as he indulged in you completely. After a sufficient taste, he finally clamped his mouth over your clit, sucking slightly as he swirled his tongue over the delicate bud, more eager to watch you finish than he could possibly remember. “Dio,” your voice rose just above a whisper, tentative enough to express the lingering vestiges of concern but the desperation on your face was far more evident. You tangled your fingers into his hair to keep him in place while your hips rolled wilding against him as you rode out your orgasm.
He exhaled sharply, a self-satisfied smirk on his face as he drank in your sultry appearance; rendered to such a brilliantly messy state by his efforts alone, your labored breathing, your shaky legs, all the product of his amorous labor alone. His and only his.
Dio pulled himself off of his knees and licked the rest of you off his lips; savoring the last remnants of the heady taste. He assisted you to your feet, letting you lean into his arms as he kissed you, messy smudges of lipstick covering your face. Arrogantly, he held your chin with one hand while the other shoved his pants down past his thighs, his large cock was fully erect and dripping with precum as he slowly began to touch himself. “Open your mouth,” he commanded, his fingers pinching your skin beneath the strength of his grip.
You obeyed him, sitting upright on your knees while he loomed over you, guiding your head closer to him. You wrapped your lips around the head, pressing your tongue squarely against the slit, the salty taste hit your throat as you began to take him further down your throat. He gripped you by the hair, moving your head in tandem with the motion of his hips. Always impressed with how valiantly you accepted him. A loud grunt escaped him as you brought your hand up to stroke him. “Dio, quiet, I don’t want anyone to find us.”
He responded with a cold, raspy chuckle that trailed into wanton groans at an even higher volume. “I wonder what your dear colleagues would say if they saw you like this. What would they think of you? Certainly, they would never be able to look at you the same if they saw you here with my cock down your throat.” Lewd grunts continued to pour from him with each empty admonishment. Despite his words and the truly indecent position in which you found yourself, with the door locked you felt a reasonable certainty of secrecy. He let out another groan before pushing your head off him and lifting you back to your feet. Harsh hands grabbed you by the waist and pushed your dress up past your stomach before bending you over the desk.
With precious little warning, he plunged into you. The roughness caused you to gasp as you were all at once spread around his massive cock. He gave a satisfied grunt as he sunk deeper into you. “You’re so fucking tight,” he groaned, “god, how I’ve missed this.” An urgency ran through him. It was as if until the moment he was inside you, able to feel the warmth of your tight walls clamped around him in unmitigated need, he hadn’t realized just how badly he’d been longing to be so intimately connected to you.
He grabbed your hips firmly to set a brutal pace, thrusting just a little bit deeper each time. Wrapped in a passion so intense that the rest of the world seemed to have all but melted away. At that moment, the tiny sanctuary or a modestly furnished office was all that was real.
Content with the rough pace, he slinked one arm around you and ghosted his fingers over your tender clit, still alarmingly sensitive from your first orgasm, your hips jittered haphazardly against him before he’d even been able to properly touch you. Using the force in his hips alone he pinned you firmly into the desk, craning his head back in pleasure as he bottomed out inside you. With you firmly locked into place, he brought his fingers to your drooling mouth. Already gasping for air and clawing at the edge of the desk for relief, you felt close to coming undone again, you accepted the digits. He roughly traced them against your tongue until they’d been sufficiently lubricated and pulled them from your mouth, leaving a strand of saliva dripping down your chin as you braced yourself for the additional sensation.
Firmly, the pads of his fingers rubbed against your clit in a myriad of different patterns, making it impossible for you to settle into a comfortable pace. Your hips jolted this way and that, your entire body felt like a million tiny shocks had been applied to it, every single hair in your body was standing on end as he continued to thrust deep inside of you. A slew of profanities escaped your lips as you cried out his name as the pleasure washed over you, only moderately ashamed that it had been so easy for him to make you cum again. “Careful my love, are you not worried about someone hearing us?” He teased, smug affectations tearing through the sultry timbre of his voice. The unrelenting movement of his fingers against your clit showed no signs of stopping, even as you almost collapsed between his legs, he held you in place with greater strength. “I thought you were so terribly nervous about someone finding you in such a compromising state.” His hips slammed into yours causing a jolt of pleasure to course through your body.
You only moaned in response, knowing you were too far gone to worry at this point. “What would they say if they saw your hips squirming so pathetically against me, whimpering and begging me to make you cum again?” Your head fell back, a senseless string of words mixed with vulgar cries was all you managed as a response.
Hearing those silky moans as you teetered against him was too much, “Fuck!” He gritted his teeth and gripped your hip so firmly it caused you to arch into him. “I-I need to see you,” he whined, pulling out of you and using one strong arm to flip you over onto your back. The action had stolen the breath from your lungs as he adjusted your dress to make sure it was out of the way before climbing on top of you and sinking back inside of you with a contented moan. You caressed the side of his face as he rutted into you, admiring his beauty as the darkness of the room created an effect akin to tenebrism, only accentuating the starkness of his sublimely beautiful features.
This time his pace was slower and softer than you had imagined it would’ve been given his previous sternness and the urgency which had punctuated this tête-à-tête. Each thrust with it carried a tinge of sweetness akin to worship. “You’re mine,” he grunted against the flesh of your wrist. “No one else is allowed to have you. Ever. Not like this or in any other way.”
“Of course Dio, only yours, always.” You panted, adjusting to the intense intimacy of the new position.
He gritted his teeth, you accepted him so kindly, even as he continued to degrade you. “I don’t want anyone else to even look at you, not without knowing who you belong to.”
His hips were left sputtering against yours as he drilled deeper into you at the same delicate pace. Your back arched off the desk, taking him even deeper, reaching your peak once more, your head pressed against his shoulder, you opened your mouth to speak, but no words came out, but he could feel the sharpness of your steadying breath through his shirt.
“Imagine what your colleagues would say if they saw you like this; their shining star, reduced to nothing more than a common harlot.” His breath hitched, he was so fucking close, but he was determined to drag it, to feel you as long as he could. “Nothing more than a vulgar little tramp. What would they think of you if they saw you getting fucked by so deplorable a man such as I? Would they even be able to look at you again after seeing the way I have you?”
“Dio…” you caressed his face lovingly, guiding him down to kiss you, “don’t say such things about yourself. You are so much more than the bad, I believe in the best in you.” You petted his hair gently and kissed him again and felt heat pooling deep in your core. He hadn’t intended it to be that way, but your kind words were enough to send him over the edge. He moaned your name in shameless desperation, clinging tightly to you as he finished. The heaving of his chest lulled you into a state of relaxation as he covered your mouth in short breathless kisses as he attempted to regain his lost composure.
He remained inside you for several minutes, hesitant to relinquish that warm connection he’d been craving over the last few weeks. He kept his arms tight around you, not wanting to let you go. He hadn’t anticipated such an emotional release to accompany his physical one. He gazed upon your pretty face, cheeks softly flushed with the warmth of coital gratification and eyes glassy and heavy-lidded in the way he so deeply adored. “Why did you say that?” He asked, breaking the silence while your bodies were still connected.
“Why did I say what?”
“When I said that I was deplorable, why did you stop me? Were you not bothered by all of the awful things I’d said about you?”
“No, not particularly,” you shrugged.
“And why is that? I said such harsh things, untrue things that—”
“Because when you say things about me, I know you usually don’t mean it, but when you say something about yourself, you often do.” You pulled his face closer to you so you could kiss him, “and I don’t want you saying anything bad about yourself, especially not while you’re inside me.” He cast you a vexatious look; one eyebrow raised in curiosity, not quite sure of what to make of your reasoning. “Sometimes I worry that you don’t realize how much you’ve changed, and what a better person you are. I told you, I believe in the best part of you, but I love every part, remember. You have come so far and you deserve commendation for your efforts.”
He finally withdrew himself from you and nestled beside you. In all the things you did, you always made him feel so safe. To think he had been so scared of this kind of security. How fortunate he was to have grabbed hold of it when it was offered to him.
“Thank you,” he managed to choke the words out in damn near a whimper as you ruffled his hair.
“I should be thanking you, hell, after you made me cum three times I do believe I should be worshipping you.”
“There will be plenty of time for that later.” He asserted, fully back to his accustomed bravado.
“Smug bastard,” you rolled your eyes but still gave him a quick kiss on the bridge of his nose.
“Yours.” He whispered into your ear, dragging the word out in a low purr before pulling himself from the desk and collecting the clothes that had been discarded.
He fastened his pants, tightened his tie, and smoothed out his dress shirt before redoing his belt and locating the jacket he’d discarded. He guided you to your feet and dangled a handful of pink lace above your hand before snatching it away. “You may have these back at home. If you’re good.” And with that, he shoved the fabric into his coat pocket and gestured towards the door. “We ought to make our reappearance. I’m sure by now everyone is looking for their shining star.”
He unlocked the door and led you into the hall. It felt oddly bright in contrast to the darkness of the room you’d been in for a time which you had not been able to measure.
“How obvious is it that I just got fucked?” You asked, fondling for your compact in your bag.
“I would say rather obvious.” He replied with a soft chuckle, taking part of your hair down for you in an attempt to make it look less disheveled.
You held the mirror up to your face, startled by the smudgy stains of deep red left behind from your lipstick. Frustrated, you began wiping your face erratically in an attempt to dull the lipstick stains, but it only seemed to spread them further. Dio handed you a handkerchief from his pocket which you graciously accepted.
You rubbed at your skin until it reddened under the effort and most of the smudges had faded to light halos of color, hardly able to be seen. You were certain that none other than Dio would be in such close proximity to you that evening. You handed him back his handkerchief and your compact so he could wipe away the residual stains.
You fussed with your hair. The tendrils hung loosely against your neck like wild vines of ivy that crept across the brick of old buildings. It certainly did not look professional but at least it looks presentable. At any rate, it would have to do. Satisfied that your appearance was not going to be made any better through more primping, you and Dio reentered the lecture hall together, it was still buzzing with people conversing about one thing or another as though you had never left. And had it not been for the presence of your boss, it may indeed have been just as well, but as it would have it, you saw him standing across the room talking with a group of other important-looking men. It was as if the moment you’d spotted him, he perceived your return. You made a weak attempt to conceal yourself against Dio’s colossal frame but were met with no such luck. Your boss has already begun crossing the room towards you.
“Finally, I have been looking for you all evening, come now, there are some associates of mine who are just dying to meet you.” He gestured for you to follow him as he hurried back through the throngs of people, you pulled Dio along with you, not wanting to entertain five men alone.
“Ahh, there she is, the woman of the hour!” One rather portly, but jovial man announced as you joined their party, offering you his hand as a measure of gentility. Your boss introduced him as a director from a similar laboratory in London, the other three men were all faculty members at Hugh Hudson, the two thin, nearly cadaverous-looking men were particularly esteemed professors, and the other, and well-groomed older gentleman was the department head.
You flushed with embarrassment as you shook his hand, your mind bounced back to the meeting you’d taken in his office not more than five minutes ago. “That was a lovely speech, riveting, truly. If you are ever looking for a change in employment, I would be most glad to welcome you here.”
“Oh, why thank you, sir.”
“Half a minute now,” your boss jumped in with a facetious sternness in his voice, “I laid my claim on her first. I will not have you attempting to whisk her away to the docile comforts of academia.” Both men laughed good-heartedly, an air of familiarity between them as one placed his hand on the shoulder of the other.
Amidst the raucous, the director of the London lab turned his attention to Dio. “You must be very proud of your wife, she gave an excellent show tonight.”
“I am immensely proud of my wife,” Dio announced, not tottering over the unfamiliarity of the assumed status of your relationship to him. You felt unbelievably silly, but your heart fluttered with a strange levity when he called you his wife. He looked down at you to make note of your beet-red face and gave a whimsical chuckle, but he only looped his arm around your waist to pull you closer to him. He steadied his hand on your hip, right where the line of your panties would’ve been had they not been tucked away in Dio’s pocket, but his cool, almost ruthless confidence did not falter for a moment. He was entirely in his element. “You should have seen how nervous she was this entire week, only to be as phenomenal as I assured her she would be.”
“Oh I cannot believe that for a moment,” your boss cut in to protest, “I have never met a more self-assured person in my life. Did I tell you fellows how this girl marched into my office two years ago and demanded a job? I think she had just gotten off the boat from America, suitcase still in hand, and there she was, I’d never been so stunned. Nearly knocked me off my feet, she did. And a damn good scientist at that.”
Roars of laughter abounded in response.
“Well, that sounds just about right,” Dio laughed, giving your hip a light squeeze, “but when you live with her, you are privy to many different sides of her.” He was calmly elegant with a poise only befitting his stately manner. Ever inclined towards conversation; tremendously well-spoken and smart in every subject. In truth, a perfect plus-one to any soiree with his debonair attitude. He thrived in the limelight, content to bask in the lurid glow of attention any chance he could get. And oh, how he was enjoying it.
Another bout of boisterous laughter echoed through the room.
Dio eyed you with a keen glance, hoping you’d taken his weighty implication exactly how he’d intended it.
The head of the science department suddenly spoke. “Excuse me sir, but you wouldn’t happen to be Dio Brando, would you?”
“Oh, yes sir, I would be.”
“I thought you looked familiar,” he laughed, shaking Dio’s hand in recollection of their acquaintanceship. “Have you been doing well since your recent graduation, well obviously you have!” He gestured to you and then back to Dio, a wide smile on his face to acknowledge the joys of your apparently recent nuptials.
“Oh, are you a scientist yourself?” Asked your boss with a look of near astonishment.
“Dear me, not at all. I graduated with a degree in law”. Dio said, shaking his hand with a feigned humility, but more cocksure than ever.
“Well, that’s quite a feat as well,” your boss laughed.
“This young man took my mechanics course last spring, he was the only one to earn an A, now I see why.” Dio nodded in agreement as if everything the men were thinking had been true. “At next you see your father, do tell him that I have been meaning to find the time to see him, it has been far too long since we have properly met.”
“Certainly,” Dio said with a striking aplomb, though he felt the tremors in his composure rattle with a degree of hesitancy.
“Why didn’t you tell any of us that you’d gotten married?” Your boss then turned to you, much to Dio’s relief, the conversation had been steered elsewhere and he was once again able to relax into the domineering confidence that he wore so indisputably well.
“Oh… it’s a recent development, very recent.” You replied, attempting not to stutter over your words and make yourself look foolish.
“Yes, we waited until I graduated, but you know how long I’d been waiting for you, darling.” He took your hand and raised it to his lips in a show of gallantry.
All of those men were absolutely eating out of the palm of his hand, and he was loving every moment of it. He had made a complete and utter spectacle. Your noticeable embarrassment was just an added benefit to his already inflated ego.
“Won’t their kids be gorgeous?” The director of the London lab beamed, placing a hand jovially on Dio’s shoulder as if congratulating him on a phenomenal achievement.
“And smart too,” one of the professors added.
“I shall be happy as long as they all have your eyes, my dear.” He then tilted your chin and kissed you brazenly in front of everyone.
By the end of the night, you’d just about convinced yourself that you and Dio actually had gotten married and that it had indeed been a fortuitous match set up by your parents the summer before your arrival, and of course, you meant to start a family with three, no, four beautiful children sure to come in the very near future, and every other lie Dio had been spoon feeding the men, soaking in every second of the attention they willingly offered him.
It wasn't until you tugged on his arm and signaled that you were ready to leave that he relinquished the adulation that'd he'd damn near gotten drunk off of and finally wrapped things up.
Everyone bade him congratulations on his recent graduation and apparent wedding as well and wished him good luck in any of his future endeavors, trusting that if he needed a job, he could rely on any one of them to point him in the right direction. Lastly, offering you several final flatteries over your speech with the prospect of more in the future a relative assurance. And before they could jump into any further conversation with your suddenly chatty boyfriend, you ushered him out of the room.
“You are something else, you know that?” You exhaled sharply with a glaring sternness to your voice. Dio cast you the most innocent expression he could muster, but that devious look in his eyes betrayed him. “Telling those men all those lies, and for what?”
“I was simply killing two birds with one stone,” he snickered, leading you out into the velvety air of the night, “now, no one will ever think that you’re a slut who’s been sleeping with her boss and at the same time everyone will know that you belong only to me.”
You laughed suddenly, leaning your head against his chest, his beautiful features were obscured by the hazy darkness, but his eyes still glimmered a brilliant gold that reflected the sparkle of the stars that lingered overhead in the cradle of the firmament. “You’re crazy”
“But yours.”
Notes:
You should've known that I wouldn't let her get through her lecture unfucked.
Sorry for the feminist themes, it will probably happen again. For what it's worth, Dio definitely knew that journalist (biblically).
Dio might very well be the most jealous and possessive man to ever live; can't help that he has problems with both intimacy and the truth (but goddamn the charm would've worked on me regardless).
Also happy 100,000 words to this fic! I cannot believe how prolix I can be at times, I hope you dear readers don't mind longer chapters because there are several on the docket.
Chapter 27: Say You Love Me
Notes:
Am I lulling you guys into a false sense of security with a pure smut chapter to dampen the catastrophe to come? I very well might be.
(See the end of the chapter for more notes.)
Chapter Text
The carriage ride home felt endless. Every dimly lit street seemed to look exactly the same, innocuous and unassuming in the velvet black of night. Wisps of lilac fog hung just above the ground, parting only against the long strides of the horses as they drove through it, the clacking of their hooves echoing harshly against the rough cobblestone.
Dio had you locked in his arms, pressing long, slow kisses steadily into your neck, each one promising to leave the halo of an oblong purple bruise in its wake. “Darling, do you have any idea what I’m going to do to you when we get home?” He purred, his hands sliding over your thighs to see how eagerly they would part under his touches.
“I may be able to guess,” you tittered, your back instinctively arching as his fingers walked over the tops of your thighs. “But you should know that you have more than satisfied me already.”
“Oh, my dearest, I think you ought to know that I am good for far more than one impromptu encounter. And I do intend to make good on my promise and remedy that pesky ability to walk.” With each word uttered coolly and deliberately, he attempted to snake his hand under your dress, each touch reminding you how easy it would be for him to slide up your leg and caress your bare cunt. You hated to admit it, but the thought excited you. You were still riding the rush of getting away with your little tryst at the university that you felt he just might be able to convince you to do anything and you’d agree to it as if it were the only sensible option.
The carriage stopped outside your flat, you placed a silver coin in his hand as a tip and bade him a hurried goodnight that he reciprocated with a tip of his hat. All perfunctory matters completed, you focused your attention on the more exhilarating prospect ahead of you. You hadn’t even gotten to the door and Dio’s hands were already all over you, careering down your body, rubbing his hips into yours with a zealous hunger. Amidst each heated sensation, you were barely able to fit the key in the lock, groping blindly in the dark until finally, you hit your mark and the door opened with a hesitant creak, leading the two of you to nearly fall inside in your haste.
Dio shut the door behind you, clicking the lock into place to keep any disturbances out and set his sights on you as though he were nothing more than a ravenous animal. He embraced you in a long, burning kiss that set your entire being aflame. Heavy hands were cemented to your body, roaming wherever they pleased in his fervor. So desirous was he for you that it only proved to remind him how infrequently he’d been able to indulge in you in the month past and how you had worked him up to a point of near desperation. Your encounter at the university had not been nearly enough to satisfy his unquenchable desire, he needed more. And he certainly intended to get it.
His long fingers curled into the flesh of your hips, wrinkling your pretty dress and guaranteeing the presence of pale marks from his sustained grip. You had become accustomed to the rough way in which he frequently handled you, firm, deliberate touches to prove that you were wholly and unequivocally his, but something in the harshness held a curious tenderness that may have only been precipitable to you.
He broke the kiss to rest his forehead against yours for only a moment. His hard cock was already eagerly pressed flush against you despite the impeding fabric. Releasing a heavy exhale, he lifted you with ease into his arms, locking you tight to his chest as he carried you through the house, keeping you entangled in an increasingly messy kiss all the while.
He laid you gingerly on the bed, without hesitation your body accepted the new position on the mattress as you extended your legs. Dio slid your shoes off of your feet and trailed his fingertips along the slope of your legs, lifting the skirt of your dress just enough to glean a better view. Thoroughly enticed by the sight, he slipped free of his jacket and let the garment fall heedlessly to the floor before joining you on the bed. Taking his spot beside you, he pulled your body against his, kissing you tenderly at first, but allowing the kiss to deepen as his tongue passed his lips and glided along yours until they parted for him. His tongue entangled with yours in a messy competition for control that could only ever be won by him. Breaking the kiss with a bridge of saliva still connecting your mouths while he pulled away. Strong hands roved over your body and pushed the heavy material of your dress up past your stomach. He let out a breathy sigh upon seeing the way your bare cunt already glistened with your need for him. “So beautiful," he crooned, tracing one finger over your sex and spreading the ample wetness that spilled lusciously from your sensitive core.
More eager than before, Dio loosened his tie and lowered himself between your legs, teasing inside you with one long skillful finger, you could hear the squelch of your arousal and he curled his finger against your plush walls to feel just how wet you were. “Well, it appears as though you’re already ready for me,” he chuckled, tracing his finger along your entrance, your cunt weeping for him with each slight movement. “Lucky for you, my dear, I’m just as greedy as you are.”
He licked a broad stroke against you and your entire body shuddered from the uninterrupted contact. “Oh, Dio! Oh yes,” you groaned, your back arching off the bed in search of further stimulation. His tongue teased inside of you, unrelenting as he sipped from you, savoring your taste as though it were the most luscious nectar. More fine than any liquor that has passed his lips. Heady moans and desperate whimpers streamed endlessly from your quivering lips, already feeling needy for release despite your precious encounter. Your fingers found their way into his hair, tugging slightly as the silky golden strands ran through your fingers while you guided him where you wanted him. He hardly put up any resistance as you tightened your grip on his hair.
Giving in to your desires as a reward for such a phenomenal performance, his lips encircled your clit, lapping quick tight circles over you as he sucked gently. Your hips bucked into his face, violent and unceremonious, “yes, Dio, that feels, god, so good!” More than satisfied with your display, he rolled your clit between his tongue and against the edge of his teeth. The sharp sensation caused a shiver to run down the length of your spine. “Oh fuck!” You screamed, clamping your hand over your mouth to keep your voice down as he continued with such immeasurable expertise, “so close” you squeaked, already completely out of breath and fully out of your senses as you transcended into a state of delirium. He quickened his pace, his tongue pressing firmly against you as he slipped two fingers inside of you. “Dio!” You grabbed his hair so tightly he flinched a little, your hips jerking against him with reckless abandon, covering his face in your sticky juices as you reached your climax. Sparkling heat glittered around you as sensitivity took hold. Your entire body felt stimulated by some extenuating voltage. Lingering tingles ran from your hips down to your toes as your thighs clamped harshly together after Dio pulled away. He licked lazily around his mouth to get what he could off his lips, before cleaning the rest of his face in the sleeve of his shirt before freeing himself of the garment altogether.
“You're always so quick,” he chided, “you never let me enjoy you as long as I would like.”
“S-sorry,” you slurred, amazed you were still forming coherent words after so intense an orgasm, “I just want you so bad.”
“And you will get whatever it is you want.” He said with a sly grin as he unfastened his belt. The outline of his hardened cock pressed firmly on his trousers. Eagerly, he shuffled them off to offer you the full view of him as he stroked his erection. He took care to admire your panting form before lining himself up with your entrance. “Ready?” He asked, leaning down to kiss your forehead, the tip of his cock teasing between your folds as he waited for your consent.
“Yes, please!” You squealed, feeling yourself just shy of begging as you threw your arms around his neck, bracing yourself for the feeling of being spread around him again.
“So polite,” he grunted as he sunk into you, groaning as each inch plunged deeper into your desperate cunt. “It’s quite endearing, how you can be so sweet while I do such vulgar things to you.” He buried his face in the crook of your neck, his breath was warm on our skin as he whispered sweet praises to you, how good you felt, how beautiful he found you, how much he adored you. Your walls clamped around him, your body feeling overcome by the way in which he was loving you. “Shit,” he grunted, his movements slowed to a near halt, you were so tight around him that he was feeling every curve of your cunt with each meager movement he was allowed, leaving him to drown in the feeling of you.
He gripped your hips beneath him in an attempt to steady himself, but fuck, he was closer than he would’ve liked to admit. You gasped in response to the rough handling that juxtaposed the saccharine words he’d been chanting. “Dio!” You pulled him tighter to you, feeling him heavy against your chest “Dio, more, please.” With the strength of his hips, he angled your pelvis and pulled your legs up to which you immediately wrapped them around his waist, feeling your core tighten as he fucked deeper into you. “Yes!” You cried, in your intense fervor your hips writhed haphazardly against him.
Dio gazed down at you, a smirk settled across his face, he enjoyed the view of you whining for him, being pleasured by his cock. “So eager, aren’t we, my love?”
“Yes— ah… so good… please— ah… oh my god!” You threw your head back, panting his name over and over again and he drilled further into you.
He pinched your chin between his fingers, “cum for me,” he ordered, his eyes were glassy, as he was desperate to chase his own orgasm too but he knew it would never be as gratifying if he hadn’t been given the satisfaction of seeing you caught in the throes of pleasure.
“Yes, Dio!” You felt your orgasm pinch in your stomach, a rush of heat filling your entire body as Dio continued to thrust into you.
“You’re so good,” he moaned, “so good for me.” He knew he was so damn close, he’d been prolonging his release since feeling you clamp so tightly around him, and your drooling little fucked out face beneath him was doing him no favors, he found himself quickly being pushed over the edge. “Fuck,” he groaned digging his nails into the malleable flesh of your hips. His thrusts had quickly grown harsh and erratic, characteristic of his impending orgasm
You lolled your head lazily against him, “Dio,” you whimpered, almost unintelligibly, “cum inside me.” Reside from your makeup had dripped beneath your eyes as you stared at him beneath heavy eyelids. “I love it every time you make me your own.”
He grunted lustfully, pinning you firmly into the mattress, not allowing any space between the two of you as he came deep within you. Immediately, he drowned you with a swarm of kisses as soon as he’d finished. “I love you.”
You let your lips trace down his neck, his skin was salty on your lips with the sweat from his exertion, but you found it pleasant as you stayed wrapped in his arms surrounded by the comfort of his proximity to you.
Dio remained inside of you, kissing you continually in an unending fervor. The lack of intimacy from the month prior had all come pouring out in such an ardent display. Without warning, his large hand grabbed you firmly, pulling the top of your dress down just enough to reveal your skin, flushed pink from the heat of the closeness and the repeated orgasms. He sucked firm kisses into your skin, leaving a pattern of ruddy oblong prints, marking you with remnants of his affection that would hopefully carry into the coming days.
Soft mewls of acceptance escaped you and the warmth of your intimacy hung about the room and blanketed you in the bliss of the afterglow. Within the gentle, intimate position, you felt his cock twitch within you.
He exhaled and combed his hands through your hair in slight apprehension, but desire won out against any meager diffidence. “Tell me how good it felt.”
“What—?” You stuttered as his eyes met yours with surprising sweetness, “of course, Dio, of course it felt good.”
“How good?” He growled, staving off the trepidation by rocking slightly against you.
“A-amazing, you’re always amazing, you know exactly what my body needs, you’re so good, the best! Always.”
He looked at you with a flash of sincerity in his glistening eyes. He was panting and trailing light kisses along your jaw in tandem with the dampened thrusts of his hips. “Tell me you love me.”
“I love you!” You threw your arms around him tightly, “do you think that I don’t?”
“I know you do, but I need to hear it from you now.”
“I love you, Dio, I love you so much, more than anything. You are incredibly important to me.”
“Good,” he exhaled in relief. You could feel him hardening again inside you as he began slow rhythmic thrusts. Your pussy was so wet from your own arousal and his previous release within you that he was able to slide lazily into you while he caught his breath, still needy for you, needier than he would have cared to say.
The slow, nearly romantic pace he set left your body covered in tingles, “oh, Dio,” you reveled in the intimacy, it was precisely what you’d been needing after a month of being on edge more often than not.
“I still intend to make good on my promise,” he hissed, finally regaining all his strength, “we’re not done until your little body can’t take anymore.”
“Yes, Dio!” you mewled, more than content to accept such an offer.
He began fucking into you with an intensity you hadn’t thought him capable of after having already cum. He wrapped his arms around you, holding you as close to him as he possibly could. “Oh!” You moaned, melting into his touch, enjoying the way he filled you so perfectly, it was as though he was meant for you and only for you. “Harder,” you breathed, pushing your hips against him with as much force as you could muster in your tired state. “Dio, I need more of you.”
In immediate acquiescence of your request, he slammed his hands on either side of your head, driving his hips into yours with a force that caused your headboard to rattle against the wall. “Like this?” He growled, keeping in time with the frantic pace he'd earlier set.
“Ah, no, harder!” You screamed as you dug your nails into his shoulders to brace yourself, "fuck me harder!"
“Well, if you insist,” he sneered, his pupils were wide and dark, god, he loved seeing you like that, he loved how badly you wanted him, just as badly as he wanted you. He felt more free in that moment than he’d ever felt during any other intimate moment.
Roughly, he gripped both of your legs and settled them against his shoulders. “Yes, just like that!” You screamed, feeling every inch of him delving deeper into you as he leaned all of his weight back down on you, pressing your legs down with him, effectively folding you in half. Silently, he admired your flexibility, how easy it had been for him to fold you like a pretzel, and still you took him so well, he would have to remember that for the future. He grunted as he adjusted to this new angle, you were taking him deeper than he’d thought your body capable of handling, oh yes, he would be doing this again. “Oh my god, oh my fucking god, yes, Dio, don’t stop!” Your hips bucked to meet his with every thrust, your head flush against the pillow in a daze of pleasure, allowing Dio the perfect angle to attack your neck with a flurry of messy kisses. He was provided ample opportunity to suck even more marks into your florid skin.
You didn’t have to tell him twice, unrelenting, would’ve been the word you used to describe his new pace. Roughly, his hips slammed into yours, the sensuous sound of skin hitting wet skin filled your entire bedroom, your lewd moans rose louder than any other sound of your lovemaking. In the back of your mind you wondered if this would lead to another unfortunate encounter with your landlord, but right at that moment your body was too on fire to even consider worrying about anything other than memorizing every detail of the way Dio was fucking you. Every single part of your body was rigid and taunt, your core felt like a tightly wound spring, threatening to spring back with all the elastic force that had been built up inside of you as Dio hit the spot he knew was making you see stars. “More,” you whined, desperate to feel it again, needing him to unravel you until you were nothing more than a tattered mess of ribbons in his hands.
He did as you asked, hitting you at just the right angle that he knew would push you closer to, but not off of the edge he was keeping you balanced on. One thing was certain he was in no hurry to reach that finality. He was more than content to watch you as you were, deep in the midst of pleasure, ungratified by the release of orgasm. Of course, he wanted you to cum, but he wanted you to reach your peak at the same time as his. He wanted to hear your cries of pleasure and relief as your orgasm crashed over you at the same moment he reached his own, filling your desperate cunt. He kept you riding that edge for you couldn’t even tell how long, but your legs began to shake and twitch at every one of his touches as he pressed against your skin that had been left slick with sweat.
“Dio, I need—”
“Patience, my darling,” he hummed, breathless himself, “I’m enjoying you.”
You whined meekly, your nails scratching down his back and shoulders as he brushed against that spot again, but never for long enough to let you finish. Rendered completely futile by his touches. “So good,” you mewled, your entire body was hot and sticky with sweat, the tightness in your core was unbelievable, and somehow with every thrust, Dio managed to pull it just a little tighter.
Your legs were jittering with such urgency that you were worried you might knee him in the process.
“Fuck,” he growled into your neck, digging his teeth mercilessly into your skin. “Fuck!” His forceful hips finally gave in to your desires, hitting exactly where you needed him to.
“Yes, oh my god, yes!” You screamed, all the pent up tension in your body coming undone at once, he held you in place to keep you from flailing and you diligently accepted his cum. Dio leaned over you with a heaving chest basking in all the glory of your shared orgasm, your body still spasming beneath him as lowered your legs to their proper place. You tentatively accepted the relaxed position, each touch caused your overstimulated, fucked out, little frame to twitch mindlessly against him. “looks like someone got more than she bargained for,” he teased, pulling himself out of you at last, streams of his cum dripping down your thighs as your body shook, unable to anything but stare vacantly into the endless expanse of space.
“Here, let’s get this off of you, we wouldn’t want anything to get on it, now would we?” He snickered as he heaved your frame into an upright position. He wiped the drool from your face and slid your beautiful dress off over your head before returning the now wrinkled garment to its hanger. Your undergarments came next and your lacy camisole and ruffled petticoat were both tugged from your body and all promptly strew away, momentarily he remembered that your panties had been left in the pocket of his discarded pants. “What pajamas would you like for tonight?” he asked, knowing damn well you couldn’t respond. “Maybe we should get you cleaned up first,” he chuckled, looking down at you, a sticky fucked out mess, only brought to that state by his handiwork, exactly how he wanted, exactly how it ought to be.
Before you had registered his next move, he had lifted you in his arms, your body was as limp as a rag doll. "I think we should clean up before we head to bed, do you not agree?”
“Mm, sounds good.” You whimpered, your heavy arms clung desperately to him in an attempt to keep vertical while he started the shower. Once the water had run warm, he helped you in, taking great pleasure in the way your tired body crumpled against him. The warm water was able to refresh you enough to bring you back into reality, however, you continued to lean on Dio for support. “Dio…” you moaned as he tenderly rubbed soap over your tired little body, “that was unbelievable.”
“Was it?” He chuckled, ghosting his hand over your tender cunt with an elegant dexterity that sent tiny shocks coursing through you.
“Yes!” You moaned, grabbing tightly to his arm to hold it in place. “I mean it, it was just incredible. No one has ever made me feel that good.”
He gave a wily, boyish smirk and kissed the nape of your neck. “Good.” He let his arms fall to your waist, his hands effortlessly slid over your hips in the slickness of the water. “You deserve nothing but the best and I intend to give it.” He shut the water off and helped you to the floor, wrapping a towel around your body as you leaned against the edge of the sink. “Now then, my dear, shall we return to our bed?”
“Don’t tell me you're vying for another round.”
“My dear lady, do you really think me such a cad? I am merely concerned for your wellbeing and I know you must be long overdue for a rest,” he jeered as if your comment has been some grave affront to his character. “Now, if you will, I would like to escort my lovely girl back to her chambers so she may rest.”
“Makeup…” You groaned, staring at your face in the mirror, a blotchy mess of color was streaked all over your cheeks and around your eyes. “I have to take my makeup off.”
He huffed, keeping an arm draped loosely across your messy face. In truth, he found it rather endearing. “Could it wait until tomorrow?”
“Absolutely not!” You exclaimed in indignation, deeply offended by even the mere thought of sleeping in your makeup. “That will ruin my skin, don’t you want me to be pretty for you?” You chirped, shifting your weight to lean against his shoulder.
“But my darling, you ought to know that you are always pretty,” he crooned before placing a tiny, affectionate kiss on your mascara-stained cheek.
“That’s because I always take my makeup off.” You jeered as you worked up a lather of soap in your hands. “Just… don’t let me fall.”
“I would never even dream of it.” He strengthened his hold on you, more than happy to accept the boost to his ego as he worked his fingers through the tangled ends of your hair. He watched every move you made as you scrubbed your face clean of any residual makeup, leaving your skin feeling clean and smooth with cheeks flushed and pink, still basking in the afterglow of what was very likely the best sex you’d ever experienced. Satisfied with your work, you dried your face in your towel and turned to Dio in affirmation that it was in fact time to go to bed. Dio admired your naked body through the mirror, finding you absolutely irresistible in his arms. He fluttered kisses over the constellation of marks he’d left behind. Too distracted to focus on anything else but the maroon prints in the shape of his mouth. “My, my, you are pretty.”
"Are you always so inclined to flattery?"
"Only when it is deserved," he said teasingly, continuing to scan over the audacious pattern of hickeys that decorated your body. "Now then, I think my girl has earned herself a good rest."
“In that a case, I do believe it's time for bed, my good sir.”
“Certainly, my dear lady. Do you still require my assistance or do you think you have regained your ability to walk?”
“Carry me anyway.” He did as you asked, lifting your little body effortlessly into his arms and carrying you back to your bedroom.
Once in the security of your room, you began rifling through your belongings until you found something you deemed suitable for sleep. You settled upon a flimsy white nightie that, in actuality was far closer than a slip to be worn under a dress, but you found the material far too comfortable to do anything other than sleep in. Dio found the skimpy garment particularly enticing, especially the eyelet trim that hit so precariously at your upper thigh. While he questions some of your taste in clothes, he had to admit that you certainly knew how to make yourself look divine in the ethereal, fairy-like ways you had. “Hm, do you like what you see?” You asked, noticing him staring, you did a grandiose twirl before collapsing onto the bed, officially too tired to do anything else but sleep.
His intrigue faded into a keen smirk of amusement. No matter how much time he spent with you, he always found it a wonder how you managed to be so alluring in such silly ways. “You know, dear, I must say, there is something so remarkably inciting about you in white,” he purred as his hands roved over your body, one pressed into the soft flesh of your stomach while the other trailed along your exposed shoulders, drawing lines between the various marks he’d left you in the ardor of the evening’s affair as though they were constellations.
“Behave,” you said sternly, poking your index finger into his chest.
“Hmph,” he pulled himself off the bed and began to dress himself for bed, “and here I thought you would be so eager to repeat what was apparently so unbelievable.”
Dio rolled onto the bed beside you and snatched your waist to keep your body close to his. “I do hope we can do that again,” you admitted in a dreamy, wistful voice as you drifted in and out of sleep, your head resting on Dio’s broad chest as though it were a pillow.
He kissed the top of your head in an attempt to be romantic before situating himself for sleep. “I intend to have many more nights like this, hopefully soon,” he grinned, that devious look ever-present in his eyes, but you were too exhausted to pay it any mind, “but this night in particular was incredibly special to me,” he grumbled, holding your tired body just a little closer. “I love you,” he whispered as he nuzzled his head against yours.
“I love you too,” you mused, your body feeling weightless as you finally succumbed to sleep. His arms lay heavy upon you as he gave into sleep, too.
Meanwhile, unbeknownst to either of you, in the villages not far across the moorland Speedwagon’s messenger had returned to the Joestar mansion to tell of his sightings. Jonathan and Zeppeli, accompanied by the ever-faithful Speedwagon took great heed in making arrangements for whatever was waiting for them upon their arrival, ‘be prepared for the worst,’ Jonathan repeated in his head all throughout the night as he mechanically followed through with Zeppeli’s orders. Armed with all the information they needed, a plan had been set in motion, one they had been well-prepared for and at the first light of day, they were off.
Notes:
I'm giving you guys this chapter a day early because I want to post again on Sunday in celebration of the six month anniversary of this story, so enjoy your early update and a double chapter this week.
A story of Dio and the most thinly veiled praise kink imaginable... I do head canon that he would like to be praised for, well, everything because even though he comes off as very arrogant, I always felt it was born out of deeply rooted insecurity. Not to say he isn't confident, of course he is and he likely he has reason to be, I mean, he was a poor kid from the slums who probably had little in the ways of education and he was still incredibly smart (even before being taken in by the Joestars), but it always seemed like he had the driving urge to be the best to make up for something he felt he lacked, perhaps because of his humble beginnings, perhaps because he is so keenly aware of the pitfalls of his personality. But I do have the compulsive need to interpret him soft as silk.
Anyway, more Dio porn for the soul! I will see you guys back on Sunday for a very unhinged update, until then please enjoy and thank you all for reading!! :D
Chapter 28: Your Time is Gonna Come
Notes:
here it is, folks, the moment we've all been waiting for!
(See the end of the chapter for more notes.)
Chapter Text
You woke up to a pale midmorning sky, utterly exhausted from the ardor of the night previous. There was not an inch of your body that wasn’t sore and leaden. Your hips, your pelvis, your legs, and even your arms felt weak and heavy from use. You probably would have curled back into sleep had there not been a curious vacancy in your bed. So infrequent was it for Dio to have gotten out of bed without waking you up with his more tender affections that always followed the nights of passion that you felt a degree of unease. On unsteady legs, you padded softly into the kitchen to find Dio sitting at the kitchen table with that morning’s newspaper unfurled in his lap. “You’re up rather early,” you whined, your tone was almost begging him to come collect you and relieve you of the tremendous exhaustion that had pooled in your limbs.
“I had figured that you would need your rest after last night.” He replied with a knowing smirk that curled deep into the apples of his cheeks before closing the paper and getting up to meet you as though he had indeed read your mind.
“Well, I could say the same thing to you.” You purred with a playful titter that punctuated the lewd sentiment, leaning into his arms as he embraced you. Rather grateful for the additional support provided by his impressive stature.
“Ahh, but my dear, I was not the one whose legs were shaking so spasmodically last night, now was I?” He massaged his hands into the flesh of your waist, your skin was pleasantly warm and pliant to his touches. Thoroughly satisfied by the way your lithe frame seemed to melt into him, he allowed one hand to trail just beneath the hem of your nightie to make contact with the skin of your thighs.
“No, but you were the one begging for my praises while still inside of me,” you grinned, your typically soft eyes narrowed, sly and almost feline in quality as you tousled his messy hair.
With a terse click of his tongue, he leaned his head against your shoulder to meet you at eye level with a tiny scowl across his face that expressed more chagrin than contempt. “That was a private moment, one that stays only within the walls of our bedroom, understand?”
Your lips twisted into an amused smirk, rendered completely incapable of hiding the tremendous satisfaction his ineloquent diffidence had given you. “Oh, of course, it’ll be a secret only we share during the most intimate of moments, but you should know that I found it incredibly sexy.”
“Did you, now? Do you always fantasize about having me timid and meek for you?” His hand began to trail up your nightie, letting his fingers trace over your thighs and across the supple skin of your stomach.
“I fantasize about having you in every way.”
“Hm, well, I suppose that is satisfactory then.” He whispered into your ear, his other hand toying with the hem of your panties, the other still exploring under your pajamas. You let out a sweet, lyrical sigh in response to his touches. Satisfied, he chuckled, elated that your body was still entirely eager for him, “would you like some coffee?” He asked, his hands trailing off of you and leaving you standing there, bewildered with your mouth agape. But there he was, already handing you a cup before you’d even had the chance to respond.
“Oh, yes, thank you,” you lifted the cup to your mouth, letting the dark, silky liquid pass your lips. “Am I to assume that this coffee does not come without a particular implication?”
“My dear, I am not allowed to simply do something nice for you without there being an ulterior motive?”
“I believe the term is quid pro quo.” You simpered as your fingers traced over his chest.
“Love, are you trying to seduce me with legal jargon?”
“Perhaps there is a bit of seduction but only if you admit that your favors often come with nefarious prices.”
“Well, maybe there is a degree of quid pro quo as you say—”
“I knew it!”
“But I assure you that I plan to attend to all of your needs today, not just those in the realm of earthly pleasures,” He purred before sipping his coffee, his voice had been laden with salacious undertones despite the honesty of the sentiment.
“And what might those needs be?” You asked as you drained the rest of the liquid in your cup. Dio raised an eyebrow before taking your cup from your hand and placing it on the edge of the table beside his.
“Well, I would be lying if I said I did not have a full day of activities planned for us.” He said with a hum as he pressed your body against his. With a smirk, he began to kiss down your neck until you melted in his hands. With all of your weight secured in his arms, he snaked a hand all the way up your nightie and cupped your breast. His breath hitched, warm against your body as his fingers trailed gently across your silky skin.
“Dio…” You groaned, knees nearly buckling as he rolled your nipple between his thumb and forefinger.
He pushed away the strap of your nightie just enough to suck long, slow kisses along your collarbone, kissing so deeply that you could feel his teeth as his hands roamed down your waist. Slowly sliding down the length of your body, you felt his hands come to rest at your hip bones where Dio began to toy with the hem of your panties. There was a heat in his gaze, his eyes boring into you with a fiery intensity that he was only moderately able to quell when he saw your tiredness lingering in your eyes. “Now, would you let me take care of you the way you deserve?”
“Oh, and what exactly did I do to deserve such wonderful treatment?” You asked as you ran your fingers up and down his arm.
“Well, I think you more than deserve it after yesterday.”
“My, my, quite the gentleman, aren’t you Dio Brando?”
“I take it you plan to cash in all these favors at the end of the night.”
“And if I did?”
“I’d say there’s a pretty good chance of you getting whatever you want.”
“Hmm, well aren’t I a lucky man?” He let his hands fall to your hips, holding you in place so you could feel how hard he was from even your most meager of touches. “You were spectacular last night. At the lectern, in our bedroom.”
“On your professor’s desk?”
“Oh yes, there as well.” His lips twisted into a sly grin that only prompted further recollection of the sultry scandal shared together the night before.
“Well, it’s hard not to be spectacular when I have a boyfriend who was being so incredibly generous.”
“Oh, love, you should know that I am always quite generous with you, my darling.”
“That you are.” You hummed, leaning up to kiss him. Lost in the temporary glow, you felt him lift you off of your feet and ease you into his arms. “Mm, what are you doing?”
“Taking care of my girl.”
“And what does that entail?”
“My dear, do you not trust me?”
“Of course—”
“Then trust me.”
Your body went completely pliant in his arms as he swung your legs into a more comfortable position. Instinctively, you wrapped your arms around his neck to be held even closer, just then remembering how exhausted you were after a month of giving your all to prepare for your lecture only for all of your hard work to be punctuated in such a torrid night for which you had summoned energy from reserves you had been unaware that you had. But in feeling weightless in Dio’s arms, it had all come rushing back to you. Accepting his offer, whatever it may bring, you shut your eyes and rested your head on his chest.
With a soft kiss on your temple, Dio carried you to the bathroom and, after placing you gently back on your feet, he began filling the bathtub. “Dio…”
“Shh, I told you that I will be taking care of you today, just relax.”
His heavy hands roved over your body with a tender ardency that left your skin aglow with a comfortable warmth that you could ease into with eagerness. “Dio, are you sure this is what you want to do…”
“Dear, you deserve to let yourself unwind, after all, you have been working so terribly hard lately.”
“But you don’t want—” He cut you off with an affectionate kiss that served to dull your senses as his hands came to rest on the eyelet hem of your nightie.
“Of course I do, but I want to make sure you are taken care of first, You really have been working far too much lately. I intend to make you relax one way or another.”
“My dear Dio, that sounds rather like a threat.”
“Take it as you will, I intend to make it so.” He said, trying to maintain his arrogant demeanor but it came out closer to a murmur. “Now, may I undress you?”
“Of course you may.” In spite of his rather caring expressions the eager chuckle he made gave rather lascivious implications.
With no hesitation he slipped your nightie over your head and let it fall to the floor, immediately taking to your new appearance. He kissed down your neck and to your collarbone, over the fresh marks he’d left you in the kitchen. “Darling…” Plush lips cascaded over your breasts as his hands fumbled with the hem of your panties, “you look as beautiful as ever.” He sat you on the end of the tub and peeled the skimpy fabric down your legs.
You let your body settle into the warm water, feeling immediately suffused by the comfort. Under heavy eyelids, you watched as Dio undressed himself and joined you in the bath. You leaned against his sturdy shoulder, the damp ends of your hair stuck to his skin like scraggly tendrils of vines. He shifted so that you sat between his legs and began to massage your shoulders. “My god, that feels amazing.”
“Just enjoy, my love.” He purred as his hot lips dragged against your ear. “I do want to make love to you today, but only after you’ve had proper time to rest and recover.”
“Well, alright.” Your voice came out soft and breathy as you rested all of your weight against him. “I must say, I could get used to this side of you. Might I be privy to it more often?”
“As often as you would like.”
“My, then aren’t I a lucky girl?”
He breathed softly and let his arms come to rest around your waist, milky patches of soap subs gathered around your legs where the surface of the water had been fractured. The steamy air filled the room with thin white fog that obscured the farther half of the room and tinged your skin in a soft pink glow that Dio always found rather endearing. “I love you my darling, I love you so much.”
“Mm, I love you too.” You hummed, feeling as though you may fall asleep in such a pleasant serenity, but all at once the guise of peacefulness was jarringly disrupted by a firm knock at your front door. “Dio, “I think someone’s here,” you groaned, your sleepy body clinging to him.
“Just ignore it, they will go away.” He assured you with a gentle pat on the top of your thigh before tucking the loose strands of hair behind your ear and coaxing you into another kiss, the ardor only amplified by the inherent sensuality of the surroundings.
You could feel his fingers crawling up your inner thigh in a languid pursuit that was interrupted by another round of frantic knocking. “Dio, I don’t think they’re going away.”
“Dear, you deserve a rest without intrusion, whoever it is will simply have to come back later. Now relax.”
“Okay…” You muttered, tentatively accepting the flimsy reassurance as you turned to straddle him. Instantly, your lips crashed against his, the passion far greater than the kiss you’d shared before and the shroud of the humid haze only seemed to bolster the lustful feelings that had mounted in an attempt to dispel the residual anxiety. “Dio.” You let out a soft moan as your hips rocked into his.
“There’s my girl.” He crooned, in an enthusiastic welcome of your new position before slipping back into the blaze of the kiss. “I love you.”
A loud crash came from downstairs, shattering the intimacy of the moment with the clamor of splintering wood and the echo of several sets of hurried footsteps.
“Dio…” You whimpered as you began to cower deeper beneath the water. You looked absolutely terrified as you made a desperate attempt to try and conceal yourself. “W-what’s going to happen?”
Dio exhaled in annoyance, but in truth, he was rather perturbed by the prospect of an intruder. “Whatever it is, I will take care of it. I will not allow anyone to harm you, you have my assurance.” He patted your shoulder in a calming gesture which felt even more hollow than his previous attempts and stood up from the bath. He quickly dried himself with a towel and redressed himself in an admittedly more disheveled fashion than he would have allowed if the circumstances were not quite so dire. “Stay here, I will deal with it.” He instructed as he stepped from the room, taking great care to shut the door behind him as he left.
Dio walked down the hall with a cool certainty, knowing whatever had dared to interrupt him could be easily dealt with, so long as you were kept out of it, he really didn’t care what needed to be done. This life that he had built with you would have to be protected at all costs.
“Dio!” The voice of Jonathan Joestar called, his tone was full of a righteous anger that clashed luridly against the noble disposition he’d inherited as his birthright.
“JoJo…” Dio hissed in response, concealing any vestige of surprise under a cool facade of aplomb, “it would appear as though you have finally come, unless, of course, you have merely developed a habit of breaking into ladies’ houses unannounced.”
“Dio, I have been looking for you for months, I do not have time for any obfuscation! Tell me exactly what it is you’re doing here!”
“JoJo, you break into my home and demand answers from me? The nerve of you,” he folded his arms over his chest and met his brother’s gaze with a scowl. In truth, the lengths that Jonathan had gone to track him down were nothing if not admirable, and somewhere tucked away in the far recesses of his mind, he did in fact hold the tiniest speck of respect for his brother’s tenacity.
“JoJo, we know he was seen with a woman yesterday, she must be around here somewhere,” Speedwagon interjected as both he and Baron Zeppeli came into Dio’s peripheral vision.
“Ahh, and you’ve brought company too, really Jonathan, was all of this necessary? And these vermin, I take it they are responsible for the fleas that have been following my every move since December?”
From the bathroom, you could hear the commotion outside, alarmed by the plethora of voices and the utterance of the name JoJo, you had the presence of mind to begin making yourself as reasonably appropriate for such an untimely encounter. You had located what little clothes you’d worn and redressed yourself, preferring that they raise their eyebrows at your skimpy nightie rather than see you wrapped in nothing but a towel. Still vastly underdressed, you hung your towel loosely around your shoulders to cover anything particularly indecent, the dampened fabric felt particularly uncomfortable on your skin and the rush of chilly winter air that met you once you’d opened the door only reinforced your meager state of dress.
“Enough of your tricks, Dio, tell us all what is really going on here!” Jonathan demanded, his voice had reached a state of fury as he made an attempt to approach his brother for a more direct confrontation.
“JoJo, wait if you will!” Zeppeli said, putting a strong hand on Jonathan’s shoulder to pull him back as he directed everyone’s attention to you standing sheepishly in the doorway.
“Jonathan, that’s exactly the woman who’d been seen with Dio last night!” Speedwagon called, breaking away from the others and hurrying to you to make certain you were safe.
“I thought I told you that I would take care of this!” Dio growled, strain evident in his voice as he saw himself quickly losing the last scrap of control he had over the situation.
“I-I…” you stuttered, your mouth startled out of forming the words you had in your head as Speedwagon pulled you away from Dio in a move he thought was protecting you.
“Take your filthy hands off of her at once!” Dio gritted his teeth, up until then he had been making his best attempt to avoid violence at all costs, but if this stranger was going to so brazenly manhandle you right in front of him, he would no longer be left with any other choice.
“Jonathan, look,” Speedwagon exclaimed as he pulled away the towel you’d draped over yourself and revealed all of the marks that Dio had left on you from that morning and the night before.
Seeing the varied shades of red and purple that adored your skin sent Jonathan into a rage. Immediately, he charged at Dio, grabbing his shoulders with a boorish strength that caused Dio to pull back in response. “Dio, what have you been doing to this woman, answers, now, if you’ve been hurting her—”
“No, stop it, please!” You cried as you wriggled yourself free from Speedwagon’s grasp, you rushed to Dio’s side in an attempt to put some space between him and Jonathan. “He didn’t… these aren’t… just please don’t hurt him!” You stumbled awkwardly over the meaning, the tense relationship between Dio and his brother compounded with the compromising state you’d been found in only made things more awkward. With a sudden need for comfort, you wrapped your arms around Dio’s waist and clung tightly to him, feeling rather helpless in your situation.
“Miss…” Jonathan started, finally able to get a proper look at you.
“I promise you, he isn’t hurting me… these are from… these are…” you trailed off, your face flushed with pitiful embarrassment, only too conscious of how everything must look, Dio with his disheveled clothes and you in nothing but a skimpy nightie trying desperately to keep yourself covered.
Zeppeli gave an uncomfortable cough before speaking, “um, JoJo, it appears the situation may have been…misapprehended.”
For a moment, everyone stood in silence as the realization washed over the other two men. Jonathan took two large steps away from both you and Dio, turning his back to you completely as if to avoid seeing something that wasn’t his to see “I— um… forgive me, Miss, for the intrusion,” he said finally, though he found himself incapable of looking at you directly.
“It’s… it’s okay,” you replied, still clinging to Dio for security.
“It most certainly is not okay, JoJo, you have broken into this lovely woman’s home, you have embarrassed her terribly, and you have carelessly accused me of heinous actions. So no, it is not okay, JoJo.” Dio snarled, his eyes smoldered with a deep ruby red, the likes of which you had never seen before, and behind which all of his rage towards Jonathan lurked, ready to leap out in an instant.
“I had to make sure she was safe,” Jonathan retorted, maintaining staunchly to his position, but dialing back his anger in the hopes that his brother would follow suit.
“Leave at once!”
“I can’t do that, Dio, I can’t leave until I know exactly what you’ve been doing in these months that you’ve been away… don’t act as though you have forgotten all that has happened.” Jonathan’s voice turned melancholy, soft and sad without a trace of his previous anger.
“JoJo you cannot seriously think…” Dio wrapped his arms tightly around your shoulders, “JoJo, you have caused enough distress to my darling, you and your friends will leave immediately.”
With Dio’s shift in demeanor, all three men tensed up, ready to fight if necessary.
“Everyone, please, calm down. Let’s all… just talk this over like adults, please.” You pulled away from Dio, giving his arm a gentle squeeze of reassurance as you went to stand in the middle of everyone. You kept your arms crossed tightly over your chest to cover yourself as much as possible. “Just, give us five minutes, and I promise, we can discuss everything.”
“JoJo, I think that would be for the best,” Zeppeli said with a nod in agreement.
Before either of the other men could give a response, you had already pulled Dio into your bedroom.
“What do you think you’re doing?” He scoffed with folded arms.
“I’m making myself look presentable, I’m not particularly enthused that your brother has seen me in a state that only you should be allowed to see.” You huffed as you slipped off your nightie
“Don’t play coy,” he growled, spinning you to face him, “I can see what you’re trying to do, you’re trying to fix things between JoJo and me when I specifically told you to leave well enough alone. I have no desire to further any kind of relationship with the Joestars.”
Your face fell as you exhaled, you let your hands drop to his shoulders and rubbed them softly to soothe him, however feebly the gesture may have seemed. “Dio, they’re here, there isn’t much that can be done at this point. And even if you want to be done with them, don’t you think you kind of owe Jonathan an explanation…?”
“I owe him nothing!”
“Dio… remember what we talked about, about closure and forgiveness, I-I think this could be a good step towards that goal. I know you don’t like your brother, and you don’t have to, ever. But please, just talk to him, tell him how you feel, show him that you’ve changed, then we can move on together. Please?”
He sighed and pressed his hand to his head in vexation. “Would that make you happy?”
“It would.” You said with a tiny grin as you held his hand gently in yours.
Finally, after a long pause spoke, “fine, I will talk to JoJo, but only for your sake, not for his.”
You leaned up and gave him a kiss on the lips. “Thank you, I love you.”
He smirked and trapped your half-naked body against his. He leaned in to kiss your neck, dragging his lips against your skin as he kneaded the soft flesh of your hips.
“Not now, we have company waiting outside,” you said, scolding him as you moved his hands away. “Later, I promise” Reluctantly, he pulled away from you with a subtle frown. Endeared by his genuine look of dejection, you pulled him back to you and whispered in his ear, “listen, if you behave yourself now, I will do whatever you want tonight.” To punctuate the lascivious sentiment, you nibbled the outer edge of his ear.
“Well, I quite like the sound of that,” he hummed, switching to a look of delight as his arms encircled your waist.
“Mhmm, I’ll be your obedient little fucktoy, but only if you’re a good boy. How does that sound?” Your voice was so sweet in his ear, it seemed almost impossible you could be telling him such filthy things.
“That had better be a promise.”
You widened your eyes as though you were absolutely innocent as you drew a cross over your heart then smirked up at him.
“Oh, my luscious girl, you truly are marvelous,” he kissed you roughly, letting his hands explore your body one final time. “I think I like these lips the best when they’re telling me your most depraved desires, my dear.” He stepped back with a finger perched against his forehead while he pondered deeply, “on second thought, I do believe there is one other way in which I prefer your lips more; naturally, they are the most enticing when wrapped around my—”
“Behaving yourself starts now.”
“I see, if that is the case then I will look forward to indulging in that pleasure later.”
Nearly impressed by how quickly he had jumped from rage to humor, you rolled your eyes but gave him an affirming nod to ensure that you would indeed do whatever he wanted if he kept his temper at bay.
You dressed yourself in a plain pair of wool trousers and and dark blue turtleneck sweater to cover all the hickeys on your neck, something comfortable as you foresaw having to make dinner for five today rather than two, and it didn’t seem right to ask Dio for help since he was already being more compliant than you could’ve hoped. Dio looked even better, pulling a dark green sweater over his dress shirt, but his face was wrought with disdain
“It's going to be okay, I won’t let anyone hurt you. I promise.” You patted his back in reassurance.
“I do not need my woman to fend for me,” he scoffed with a scowl.
“You need me.”
“You’re right, I do,” he pulled you into his arms again, “I need you.”
You stood on your tiptoes to kiss his cheek as a measure of your devotion. “Dio, you’re so strong, but you don’t need to be strong alone. I can be with you the entire time if you need me there.”
“No, I think I should speak with my brother in private.”
“Okay, I will support you in whatever your decision may be.”
You took his hand and squeezed it once before walking back out. All three men were standing awkwardly somewhere between your kitchen and sitting room. You couldn’t help but notice that someone had used one of the kitchen chairs to prop the front door closed. The broken hinge would certainly be a pain to fix. You logged it in your brain and silently hoped it was something you could do yourself without having to involve your landlord. You really didn’t need to incite any more scandal.
“JoJo… if you and I are going to have this conversation, it is going to be without the presence of those who are uninvolved.” Dio approached Jonathan with a newfound sense of dignity.
“Don’t listen to him, JoJo, this sly devil is just trying to get you alone,” Speedwagon said in fervent protest.
Dio gritted his teeth and glared at the unfamiliar man, damn near losing his composure.
“Listen, this is my house, so we’re going to do this my way. This is first and foremost a family matter, so the only two people who are related here are going to talk first, then anything else that needs to be said can be done after.”
“But—” Speedwagon made an attempt to interject, but you held up your hand to stop him.
“Right now, this only concerns Jonathan and Dio, if Jonathan is okay with this arrangement, then this is what we’re doing.” You looked at the man, in person, he was remarkably tall. Though his face looked soft and kindly, his brows were knitted together with anxiety.
“It is alright with me,” Jonathan nodded.
“Thank you, Jonathan,” you said as you led the two of them to your office and standing in the doorway, you wrapped your arms around Dio’s waist. He rested his hands on your shoulders in reciprocation. “Everything is going to be okay, I promise.”
You closed the door behind them and returned to the others. Your heart sank in your chest, dreadfully heavy with worry for the man you had grown to love so deeply. In the several months that you had spent in careful reassurance, more obviously than you would have wished, harbored the hope that Dio could rectify his relationship with his father and brother, you knew in your bones that he was a better man than the day you met him and you believed he deserved a chance at a life unburdened the weight of the troubles that had relentlessly plagued him. Hollow, it felt to have him go it alone, but you knew in your heart of hearts that Dio would have to make amends of his own accord.
And so Dio relinquished himself to the displeasure of the reality in front of him and choked back his anger as best he could. Even as children something about his brother had always inspired ire, perhaps it was envy for the privilege the Joestar heir had enjoyed in his pampered youth while Dio had to suffer and steal to survive, or contempt for the self-righteous gallantry Jonathan always seemed to carry; a quality Dio was certain had been offered to him solely through birthright, one that all clever urbanity Dio had cultivated could never contest with. Perhaps it was the ever-present knowledge that despite having been made privy to all of the same amenities as Jonathan had in their adolescence, he knew that he was only awarded them through a measure of dumb luck, passed down from his bastard father no less. While he had accepted the arrangement, it never pleased him to remember the circumstance through which it had been attained, and perhaps, in an untouched corner of his mind where the burdens he meant never to visit dwelt, the knowledge that any of his future successes would have been begotten by his father had contributed to his further disdain of the Joestars, perhaps that was in part why he had never attempted to consider them any more than stepping stones on his path to greatness beyond their lineage, much less a family.
But there, alone in a room with Jonathan, the man he had sworn to kill mere months before he felt swallowed up by an unnamed affliction that hampered his typically shrewd and unwavering tenacity. As curious as it may have been, it seemed as though the walls began to close around him. It was preposterous, how could he be feeling fear? His feelings towards his brother had heretofore shifted between scorn and envy but never fear. He cared little for JoJo and until that morning he never had any intention of fraternizing with him; it would have been just as well to leave him a vestige of his past, but there he was shaken and timid and afraid… oh, of course, the fear the held him captive had little to do with his reconciliation with Jonathan and nearly everything to do with the daunting prospect of losing you.
In spite of his agitation, he knew that cooler heads prevailed, it had been a lesson that he’d learned well in his previous dealings with Jonathan. Lashing out would offer little in the way of clemency. He would gain nothing from his anger. So he retired his rage to no more than hidden acrimony and chose instead to mollify Jonathan. Piteous, he must’ve looked, but piteous he would be if it meant keeping you.
Notes:
Another diabolical cliffhanger, but we will get into the meat of things in the next chapter. This chapter was decently long in its own right, but the next chapter is about 12k words, so buckle up, I think you all guessed that this moment would come one way or another!
While they are all just about ready to fight, no one is more prepared than Speedwagon, can't say the blond Londoners are off to a great start... he won't so easily look past Robert "not even into women" EO Speedwagon for manhandling his darling reader like that.
With all the semantics out of the way, I want to take a couple of moments to reflect. Being that we have just reached the six month anniversary of posting this story and all, I want to give another heartfelt thanks to everyone who has been reading this story so far. I am so grateful for all of you and I cherish all of your kind comments more than you know. Whether you have been around since the beginning or just started reading, seriously, thank you guys so much for making it such a joy to come on here and post this silly self indulgent piece and I will be here as long as you guys tolerate me.
As per usual, you can always check me out on my tumblr where my ask box is open for questions, comments, and requests and where I sometimes post really stupid Dio memes because I am astronomically committed to the bit.
So once again, thank you all for all the time you give me and all the love you give this story, I absolutely love sharing it with you guys.
Chapter 29: Victim or the Crime
Notes:
Here we have it, the arduously long meeting of the brothers.
CW: usual discussion of abuse, murder, and a small mention of blood. Nowhere we haven't treaded before.
(See the end of the chapter for more notes.)
Chapter Text
“JoJo…”
“Dio…”
An unsettling silence fell between the two men as they sat across from one another. Two pairs of eyes darted off to opposite sides of the room incredulously, neither man endeavored to look directly at the other. Many years of unspoken resentment had festered into a myriad of complicated emotions one could never hope to sum up with a sweet simplicity often found within the pages of the books Dio had frequently enjoyed. Dio recalled his vexatious youth with Jonathan. In actuality, he had never given Jonathan much of a reason to like him, even less of a reason to blatantly overlook his crimes. Dio had surmised that Jonathan must have been aware of everything if he had made the effort to confront him so brazenly. If he had returned from London unscathed and gone through the trouble of such a thorough pursuit he must’ve gathered enough evidence to prove his wrongdoings beyond any doubt. He knew what the punishment for his crimes would be if he were brought before a judge. He did not have to be formally educated in law to know what the punishment would be. So as he sat staring at his brother with a look of utter exasperation, the feeling washed over him, a feeling of true, unregulated fear. In most situations, Dio had an uncanny sense of expediency. He found most people easy to read and most situations easy to deduce while retaining that noble aloofness he felt was often most advantageous. But this situation was different. There was no twisting a truth so foul, there was no amount of deliberate ambiguity or careful circumlocution that could couch reality in anything less repugnant. The matter was one of immeasurable importance, one that demanded far more patience than he would prefer to offer his brother and perhaps that was what he feared the most. So he stewed in his consternation while he laboriously tried to sort through the messy tangle of thoughts that may best allay his brother.
“Dio…”
“JoJo…”
Jonathan exhaled long and slow, lightly brushing his fingers through the thick waves of his dark hair. Suddenly, less steady in his resolve. All the words he had thought to say had vanished from his mind when he found Dio in so preferable a state. In his heart, he had privately been stoking the embers of hope that he would find Dio as he had, safe and remarkably human, perhaps entirely unaware of any danger posed by the mask. With all his hopes having come to fruition he felt an immense weight lift off his shoulders, it was almost as though he were merely picking up his brother from a casual vacation away from home without any measure of unpleasantness. It would be so easy to just welcome Dio back home as if nothing at all had happened. For a moment it seemed as though it could be entirely that simple. Dio could return home and they could put the affair to rest and after a while, it would be as though these last several months had never happened. But reality crept back in and left a bitter taste on his tongue. He remembered all that Dio had done, he remembered the set of circumstances that had predicated Dio’s flight from home in the first place. Relief melded with indignation and created a volatile mixture of emotions that muddled all of his thoughts into a slurry of disjointed sentiments that only appeared to him in fragmentary glimpses. Dio could not be so easily forgiven for his atrocities, but there was something still so perplexing in the entire scene Jonathan had walked in on. The way he had handled you as if he had been… protecting you. It was a side he had never seen of his brother. Deep in the silence, Jonathan felt as though he had come up with more questions than answers. Everything had been so thoroughly obfuscated that he found it difficult to place the facts as he glanced at the strained face of his brother, his expression not lending any insight into his true feelings save for the infuriation at the intrusion.
With seemingly no end to the silent battle the two had been waging since their sequester, Jonathan spoke, his voice fell rather timid, but each word was formed as deliberately as his shaken disposition would allow. “Dio, I just… I don’t know what to make of all this. I’m angry, and I’m worried, but most of all I’m just confused. After everything you did, how you left, I’ve been frantically searching for you for months, and I find you just living here, playing house with some woman and acting like nothing happened. Does that girl know the things you’ve done?”
“JoJo, you will leave her out of this.” Dio spat, his anger simmered and threatened to bubble over the moment the conversation had turned to you. Whatever wrath Jonathan intended to incur upon him, he would make damn certain that it never reached you. If Jonathan was going to position himself to play an avenging angel, Dio would fight and claw to ensure that you would not be ruined as part of the collateral damage.
“Does she know, Dio, does she know how you poisoned our father, does she know that you’re a murderer?”
“She knows enough.”
“What does she know, Dio? What is enough? I need the truth, Dio!”
“She knows everything,” Dio said, his shoulders hunched forward as if the confession was a great defeat. The depths of the emotional intimacy of his relationship with you was not a mere triviality to be discussed lightly. It held, to him, a degree of shame in knowing how extensively fractured of a person he was, that the refined, well-mannered, and charismatic disunion he had worn for so many years had been nothing more than a mask to hide the misery that lived underneath.
For a moment Jonathan seemed taken aback. Lost in deep consideration over what may have caused his brother to be so openly vulnerable with a seemingly average woman. Dio had, as far as he could remember, never discussed the nuances of his past, not with him, nor their father, nor anyone else Jonathan could remember and he had never entertained the possibility of an intimate relationship that would expect such delicate admissions. While Jonathan did not make it a habit of meddling in the specifics of his brother’s casual liaisons, he knew enough to be aware that Dio was rather frivolous in his sexual affairs but more than circumspect in the minutiae of his personal details. Why then had you been so different? The words of the fortune teller sloshed through his mind in a hopeless entanglement of complications that he hadn’t the time to unravel with other issues taking precedence. “I must know, did you use it, Dio? Did you use the mask, on anyone?”
“I don’t see what that had to do with—”
“Answer me!”
“No.” Dio’s reply came cool and simple, subdued and free of any of his usual pertinacity towards doublespeak. There was a humble sort of surprise in the way one of his eyebrows raised following his answer, as though he anticipated further explanation for so curious a question.
“Then why did you send it back, out of everything, I can’t make sense of that, why?” Jonathan’s face was stern, it held within it the same emotions Dio saw when he had confronted him in the hall, but within the greater context of their interview, he could see a distant melancholy contained in his gaze.
“She asked me to.”
“I haven’t known you to bend to the whims of a woman.” Jonathan slumped back in his seat. The simple candor of Dio’s response seemed to him far curiouser than the question he had previously posed. There was neither a trace of deception nor malice behind his words and that was by far the most perplexing of all. While the change in character had been shocking, it did little to disarm Jonathan of his apprehensions.
Dio narrowed his eyes with brutal indignation, the modicum of patience he had scrounged up for his brother had worn thin. “I would do anything she asks of me if it meant keeping her at my side.”
“Do you mean to tell me that she waltzed into your life, swept you off your feet, and reformed you?”
“I take it you wouldn’t believe me if I told you that was the truth.”
“No, Dio, I simply would not.” Jonathan straightened his back against the chair, heavily scrutinizing Dio’s expression to determine how much of what he had said was true. While the way he had spoken was veracious enough, when had he ever known Dio to be honest? “I cannot just take you at your word, Dio, not after all you’ve done. Especially after what you did to Father, after he’d been so kind to you, he loved you like a son, he… he still does, even now. And after all he gave you, you’d repay him with murder.”
Without thinking, Dio pinched the bridge of his nose between this thumb and forefinger. He struggled to recall the person he had been even just a few months ago; that version of himself had been thoroughly buried and abandoned in order to cultivate a meaningful life with you. Could he have gone the rest of his life never revisiting any thought of the Joestars, he would have, but he knew that it had been a fool’s paradise to think his connection to them would have been erased with just a bit of distance and time. “It was a reprehensible thing to do, everything I did to Father and to you, it was cruel and wicked, and I know now that I was… wrong.” Stuttering over the words of amends he only tenuously could comprehend the weight of, he slipped into a more accustomed imperious soliloquy. “But that is a past that can no longer be changed. In the wake of my failures, I was shown that my greed and my ambitions were weaknesses rather than the strengths I had thought them to be. As such, I abandoned them and I changed my priorities. I do not expect your forgiveness, Jonathan, that is why I returned the mask. I intend to cut all ties with you and the Joestars. We can be nothing to each other again. You may go on with your life and I may go on with mine”
“Do you think it’s all that easy Dio? You still have to answer for the murder of your own father, the man who sold you the poison confessed to everything. I know not how a child could have conceived of doing something so monstrous to their own father.”
At the mention of that wretched man, Dio clenched his fist, poised for the attack. The absolute gall of this pompous idiot to make such careless assumptions. Mired by the pain of those abhorrent memories that he had too frequently been forced to recall, Dio found himself struggling to form words behind his gritted teeth. Your voice remained in the back of his mind, speaking tender words of affection that helped temper his rage and set his mind at ease. Swallowing the last of his inclination towards malice, he attempted to veil his anger in a guise of understanding. He knew very well that he was at a disadvantage, Jonathan, for all his many faults, had an unremitting persistence and was far stronger than Dio had cared to give him credit for. Sour as it was to admit, he knew that in a fight against his brother, he would probably lose. “Do you really want to know, JoJo? Do you want to know why I killed my worthless father?” In spite of his best efforts, fury simmered within him, in dissonance with the cool exterior he tried to force.
It occurred to him that he had never before told anyone about the abuse he had suffered at the hands of Dario until he had met you. For years, he had let the memories chip away at him from the inside. The experience, he had felt, made him weak. And so it all had been left unsaid. Each recollection had been petrified, cursed to forever dwell in the back of his mind, ready to spring forth at any juncture when a disagreeable moment struck. It sickened him to be so terribly feeble, to allow his bastard of a father to have so much power over him, even so many years after his demise. It was only through many hours of tender conversation, you had managed to convince him it took great courage to survive; reassuring him that he should never feel weak for the trauma he endured. Nonetheless, you were far different from Jonathan. Curling up in your arms after a moment of vulnerability was a weakness he could suffer. Having become privy to the tender way you handled him was a security he hadn’t thought himself worthy of. All the kindness you showed him was a luxury worth more than any amount of money he had sought. You were worthy of his vulnerability, but Jonathan was another matter entirely. He viscerally recoiled at the thought of exposing that side of himself to his brother.
“Dio… tell me what happened,” Jonathan whispered, a sweetness offered in his tone. He had sensed the drastic change in Dio’s demeanor once the subject of his biological father had been brought into question, shifting from rage to panic and finally shrinking into a heavy trepidation that he couldn’t hope to conceal. He remembered their fateful encounter on the stairs last November. Dio’s inability to lie about his father had spurred on all the actions that had followed since, and in the wake of the storm it had caused, Jonathan had not the time to comprehend the deepening meaning behind that deep-seated rage.
Dio hesitated, attempting to mask the quiver in his voice with casual bravado. “I murdered him because every day of his miserable life he was a slobbering, drunken wretch who beat his wife and son without a second thought.”
“Dio…”
“For years I watched him beat my mother senseless in front of me. I watched her fade into a shell of a person until she was empty from years of abuse and overwork. What I did to him was kinder than the fate he bestowed upon her. He took her from me, he took the only person who protected me from his drunken wrath. After that I had nothing. Do you know what that feels like, JoJo, to be pitiful, and frightened, and useless?” The torrent of emotions crashed over him and he dug his nails into the flesh of his palms to crush the feeling of cowardice that had welled up in his throat.
“Dio, I… I didn’t know…”
“The only solace in her death was that she never had to suffer at his hands again. But I alone bore the weight of his constant torment. Is it a wonder that after years of being thrown to the floor and hit in the face with liquor bottles I had enough? So I killed him. And if you were to ask, I would tell you that I do not regret what I did.” The moment those words left his mouth with such heavy resolve, a curious trepidation caused his opinions to waver. Since he had made the choice to kill his father, he had never once questioned his decision, but with the topic so frequently on the forefront of his mind in recent months, he begun to grapple with the tedious nuance behind his actions. To say he regretted what he’d done might not be entirely accurate, but to his surprise, he felt something preternatural in the way it was recalled to him. Haunted by how competently he had contrived and carried out the plan to murder his father, even more so by the ease with which he had been able to. So readily had Dario accepted the medicine, he could remember the fire that bloomed in his chest each time his miserable father swallowed the powder. Even now the faint lingerings of scour marks blistered when the thought crossed his mind. He had been so undaunted in his resolution to kill him that he hadn’t attempted to question the motivation that loomed in the periphery. He hadn’t considered his next step once his father’s pathetic life had been snuffed out, only the unquenchable desire to do so. In truth, he hadn’t known of the debt the Joestars believed they had incurred to his father. He hadn’t known that they would swoop in and rescue him from dire circumstances. The idea rattled him that he had no idea what he had planned to do after the death of his father. A mere child when his father died, undoubtedly a cruel fate awaited him both with and without his father, but he hadn’t the mind to care. He only saw the need to be rid of his father by any means necessary. But in all the months of slowly poisoning him he hadn’t stopped to consider the why. Why had he been so hellbent on sealing his father’s fate? Why had he so strongly felt the need to be the one to kill him? Perhaps he had merely grown tired of the years of abuse. But certainly, it would’ve been just as easy to wait for nature to have its way. Decades of alcoholism had battered his body to a point of no return and Dio had seen in the months before that his strength had faded to a fraction of what it had been before, his usual beatings had diminished in both frequency and severity. Perhaps it was more. Born out of fiery retribution for the life that had been so unduly stolen from his mother. One way or another it had to be paid for, so he ordained. Less nuanced than he would have seen it now, but to him then it was justice and the attainment of means via the Joestars was his reward, and it had reinforced to him that his actions had been unquestionably just, but in the wake of much consideration, he no longer knew if that was so. Certainly, the murder of Dario Brando was less egregious when looked upon from the inside, but murder was still murder and Dio knew well of the blood that stained his hands. It was a curious sentiment, just shy of regret but not enough to make it so. “I killed him in retaliation for the life he stole from my mother and freed myself from his abuse.”
“I did not know that… you never told me… Dio, are you crying?”
Dio blinked his eyes, the glassy tears getting stuck in his eyelashes. “No,” he hissed through gritted teeth. This is the exact weakness he was scared of showing in front of Jonathan. Hastily he rubbed his eyes to rid them of the tears. Only realizing that he had been biting the inside of his lip when the metallic taste of blood hit his tongue. “Would you say my actions were wholly without justification, JoJo?”
“I think, Dio, that I can understand what drove you to such drastic measures, though I cannot say if you were right.” Jonathan stood up from his seat and approached his brother. “But I am very sorry that happened to you,” Jonathan looked at Dio so kindly, as though none of the previous anger had ever afflicted him. Hesitantly, he placed one of his large hands on Dio’s shoulder. “Dio, are you okay?”
“I’m fine, I don’t need your pity, JoJo.” Dio snarled, brushing away Jonathan’s hand.
“It isn't pity, Dio, it’s understanding. I am trying to give as much grace to you as possible.”
“Why? Do you think you owe me something?”
“I owe you nothing, but for what it’s worth, I don’t want to hate you. Father wants you home, Dio, he wants to know you’re safe. Finding you here like this is the best possible scenario. Whoever that girl is, just know that I am grateful to her.”
Dio stared back at him with a helpless degree of amazement, still trying to regain his composure after disclosing such private information. His emotions were only further complicated by what Jonathan had said, it was all rather difficult to process. Perhaps, when he divulged the details of his past to you, you had found it easy to forgive him, to overlook his misdeeds because you had not known him before. You had not suffered at his hands. But Jonathan was another matter. He had faced the brunt of the iniquitous wrath of his days as a youthful scapegrace and it embittered him to think Jonathan would so willingly forgive him.
“Dio, do you know why I was so frantically looking for you?”
“I assume to insist that I pay for my crimes,” Dio shrugged, certainly he felt that in part to be true, but Jonathan’s aberrant means of tracking him lent a degree of urgency that was not so simple to explain away.
“You would be wrong,” Jonathan shook his head, “if you had come home, I would have had no qualms about involving the police, but it was just as well that you left. No, I was so desperate to find you because of the mask. You can’t imagine the relief you gave me when you said you hadn’t used it.”
To this, Dio’s eyes narrowed, ever since the mention of the mask, there had been some underlying complexity that Jonathan had left unspoken and whatever it was had served to pique Dio’s interest. “I assumed it was just an elaborate tool for murder, perhaps for some kind of ritualist sacrifice, but you speak as though there is more to it.”
“There is. In truth, it is the source of great intrigue, the likes of which I have never come across in all my studies. I will leave the finer details for my friend Baron Zeppeli to tell; he can determine just how much you ought to be involved. But I can tell you that if you had used it, you’d no longer be human, and then there would be nothing I could do to help you.” As his words faded, a heavy silence filled the gap between them, even further apart they seemed as they looked over each other. Vaguely, Dio recalled a passage in Jonathan’s notes on the mask’s ability to access the potential within the brain, but he had written it off as illogical. Moreover, he would’ve never told you such a thing, you already had a flagrant distaste for it and he imagined a conversation over the possibility of it possessing some bizarre supernatural ability would be nothing if not unpleasant, so he had relinquished it with little protest. It was but a small blow to his pride to have sent it back to Jonathan, truthfully, a meager price if it meant staying in your good graces. He had a lingering bit of dread ebbing in the back of his mind if the subject were to be brought up again. “But you are still human. Something I am very glad to see, and while I cannot just forgive you for all the things you’ve done, I at least can see that you are not unworthy of the redemption you seek. Though, if you do not mind me saying so, I find it quite a curious change.”
Dio gritted his teeth in immense irritation. This was exactly how you’d told him everything would play out. He hated that you had been right. After all this bad, he could not imagine how the Joestars would be willing to forgive him. Even with the complexities added by the mask, he had a hard time believing that his father would so willingly accept his would-be murderer back into his life with so little consideration. His stomach contorted until he felt viscerally ill. Even if he had deserved Jonathan’s forgiveness, who was to say he wanted it? Even if he had wanted it, who was to say he deserved it?
“Now then, tell me about the girl.” Jonathan leaned towards Dio, resting his head on his hand with a cheeky grin on his face in an attempt to appear more casual than the preceding conversation had allowed for.
“JoJo, I believe I told you to leave her out of it.”
“It seems she’s already been thoroughly involved, I can’t imagine why you would be so defensive.”
“I will not allow you to trifle with her, JoJo. You have already done enough to upset her.”
“I do apologize for the harsh intrusion, I wish that I had had another option, but when it had been reported you were here with a woman, I had to make sure she was safe. I simply could not allow an innocent girl to be hurt.”
“Well, as you can see, I have not hurt her, nor would I ever. Do you understand me, JoJo, she is frightfully important to me, I will not allow her to be hurt.”
“Hmm, I must say, I find this all rather peculiar.” Jonathan hummed, a jovial amusement in his voice.
“What are you trying to imply, JoJo?”
“I just have never known a woman to hold your attention for more than a couple of weeks, something must really have changed for you to be taking things so seriously.”
“You have a great deal of nerve to come into my home and insult me so carelessly.” Dio snapped with brows knitted tightly together in aggravation.
“Now Dio, you cannot act as though the truth is somehow offensive.”
“Well, JoJo, you do not know this particular woman, you could never hope to know all she has done for me, how she saved me, how she showed me things I never even knew about myself, how she adores me,” Dio stared back at Jonathan who was attempting to muster a façade of aplomb. “She is kind and intelligent and wild and beautiful. She is a companion, a confidant, and a lover all in one charming little woman. She takes all of my darkness and purifies it to the clearest daylight with only the softest touch, she makes me feel as though I am worthy of more than misery in this life. She makes every horrible experience in my life worth it, if it led me to her I would gladly go through it all again if I knew I knew she would be waiting for me at the end. She is the single most important thing to me, JoJo, I love her.” He breathed the last words as though he had been in a confessional, a rush of heat covered his face in a florid embarrassment that lent credence to his revelation.
“You love her?” Jonathan repeated the phrase as a question, unsure of what to make of Dio’s bold declaration. Until then hadn’t been quite sure what to make of your relationship, he could tell that was some kind of devotion, but he had never seen his brother show any particular interest in romance, going so far as to declare it a waste of time during an elaborately arranged ball when they had come of age. And since then, he had only proven that sentiment. Jonathan had watched as Dio pursued multiple young women he never had the intention to wed. His unabashed charm and good looks made it rather easy for him to have any girl he wanted whenever he wanted her. No, love was an emotion he hadn’t thought his brother could be capable of. Hitherto Dio’s proclamation of love, it may have been easy for Jonathan to write off his relationship with you as another fancy which Dio would quickly grow tired of once you ceased to amuse him, and the provocative position in which you’d been introduced hadn’t helped his perception. “I never thought I’d hear those words from the mouth of Dio Brando, she must be quite special to have had that kind of effect.”
“You haven’t the faintest idea, everything about her is perfect for me; not just her body, but her mind and her heart, everything about her fits exactly to me and I will never let her go, I intend to keep her by my side forever.”
Jonathan’s confusion faded into an amiable smile, how strange it was indeed to hear his brother speak with sincerity about his devotion to a woman. “Dio, I do not believe I have ever seen you light up so when talking about another person, or for anything for that matter, that is certainly a change from the man I thought would be a bachelor his entire life, you really must love this girl.”
“I do, I feel like for the first time in my life I made the right choice; the one I needed to make, and not only for myself. When I chose to stay with her I took a chance, I knew it meant letting her into my life, showing her parts of me I’d kept hidden from view, and it was terrifying when I saw myself crumble in the strength of those gentle hands, but every time she assured me of her devotion to me, and every night when I lay with her in my arms, I am reaffirmed in my choice. If I had chosen differently, I could’ve searched a hundred lifetimes and never found anything to compare to the bliss of her affections”
“If you mean all of that, then you are indeed a lucky man.”
Dio gave a subtle nod in agreement. Truly, he thought no man could be luckier than he because no other man in the world was waking up beside you but him, no one else was sending your heart a flutter but him, you weren’t coming home to anyone else but him, and no one was making love to you but him.
“You are treating her… well, aren’t you Dio?”
“Of course I treat her well, what are you getting at, JoJo?” Jonathan vaguely gestured to his neck after feigning a cough to appear more nonchalant than he was. “I do not care for what you’re implying, those marks were solely acquired through affectionate means.”
“Dio you have to respect a lady’s—”
“I will not be discussing the intimate details of my relationship with you, JoJo, but rest assured that she is well taken care of.”
Jonathan laughed, it was a bit put on, but good-natured nonetheless. Finding Dio not only human, but a far better person than he had been when he fled from home was more than he could’ve asked for. And it was at that moment that he realized, in spite of all the complexities of their relationship, there still existed a simplicity, or at least the possibility of one. “Dio…” Jonathan began, placing a firm hand on his brother's shoulder, “you look much better in the light.”
…
Back in the kitchen, you waited worriedly for Dio. Secretly, you had been harboring hope for some kind of eventual reunion with Jonathan, but the meeting had been so abrupt, that you couldn’t imagine how difficult it must’ve been for him to confront his brother. But you felt for Jonathan too, Dio had vanished from his life without a trace and left him to deal with the wreckage of the dubious circumstances he had created. For you, it was easy for you to forgive Jonathan’s urgency even if it came at the expense of your door. Fixing something like that would be an easy afternoon task and a more than rewarding one if it ended in the mending of some kind of bond between the two brothers. So you waited in your addled state, much too restive to sit comfortably at the table with Jonathan’s other two companions, you flitted about in preoccupation. “Would you boys care for anything to drink, tea or coffee perhaps?” You asked, trying to put up a front of calm to cover your obvious unease.
“Coffee for me, grazie mille, signorina,” Zeppeli responded with an upbeat disposition as he leaned back in one of your kitchen chairs.
“And for you Mr. Speedwagon?”
He looked at you with a scrutinizing gaze, as if trying to realize something important through the menial activities you engaged in. “Tea if you don’t mind, but don’t trouble yourself.”
“It won’t be any trouble. Won't you sit?” You forced a little smile along with an agreeable nod as you gestured for Speedwagon to take a seat beside his friend while you turned to boil water and prepare the coffee.
With your back to your visitors, you made an effort to keep from glancing over your shoulder while you attempted to focus on your task as a beleaguered hostess. From where you stood, you could feel their eyes upon you, like a serpent crawling arduously up your back, you wondered what conclusions your guests had drawn about you after having seen you in so immodest a state.
With the water boiling and coffee hot you laid out three place settings and served the drinks, reluctantly taking a seat across from the two men and fiddling with the handle of your cup to suppress your waxing perturbation.
“Signorina, are you sure that you’re alright?” Zeppeli asked, a candid sense of concern in his voice.
“I said I was fine.” You snapped, your agitation making your reply come out far more tersely than you had intended. You exhaled and leaned your elbow on the table to hold your head in your hand. “I am fine, really. Just… jumpy.” You said as more of a casual admission accompanied with a self-effacing smile to hopefully restore some of the necessary etiquette to the impromptu gathering as you took a hasty sip of your coffee to focus your attention elsewhere than on your mangled efforts to appease the men across from you.
“Hm, well that is no wonder.” He nodded, tapping his index finger against his chin. “I do sincerely apologize for the intrusion, I wish the circumstances warranted a different kind of meeting. I would not make it a habit of entering one’s home uninvited, especially one belonging to una ragazza cosi bella.”
“My, quite charming for a man who just broke into my house, but unfortunately, I’m spoken for.”
“I just can’t imagine… do you know what kind of wicked devil has been living in your home?” Speedwagon blurted out, his ire overwhelming any chance at decorum.
You sipped your coffee in an attempt to keep your head, keeping your eyes fixed on the table to avoid matching his temper. “I do not appreciate you speaking of him in such a manner.”
“Miss, have you no idea the wicked deeds he’s done? The hell that he put JoJo through in their childhood?”
“I’m aware.”
“And still you allow him to stay? You must be no better than he.”
“Do not disrespect him, he has worked so hard to become a better man. I have watched him become a better man. You will not come into my home and insult the man I love. If you continue behaving so unmannerly, I will have to ask you to see yourself out.”
“Hmph, listen when you’ve lived that way I have, you get a sense for people and I can tell just by looking at him that he’s pure and complete evil. That’s simply his nature, he's been that way since the day he was born and there ain’t enough kindness in the world that’s going to change that.
Your eyes widened and eyebrows furrowed in blatant shock after so baffling a suggestion. To bite back your anger, you gripped the edge of the table with such force that your knuckles turned white but it did little to cover the discomposure in your voice. “Do not be obtuse, we are all born innocent; no one is cursed from the moment of their birth. People are a product of their experiences, evil, hatred, cruelty, all of these things are learned behaviors just as love, kindness, and compassion are. A man’s moral compass is shaped by what he’s taught is normal. It would be ridiculous to assume otherwise.”
“You make a lot of excuses, but Dio isn’t the only one who grew up hurting for money, though his greed may be excusable to a point, his actions are not.”
“Do you think poverty is what drove Dio to such extreme acts of cruelty? Is that what you really think?” You snarled as you firmly placed your cup down, hearing the distinct clink of porcelain as the cup met the saucer.
“I suppose that would be the most logical…”
“You have made a horrible misjudgment, Dio was not cruel because he grew up poor, he was cruel because it was all he’d known growing up, the love and security that a child should know growing up was denied to him for most of his life.” You stood up from your seat and placed your hands firmly on the table in front of you, eyes burning into your guest with a wild intensity that you could only muster in anger. “Mr. Speedwagon, Dio’s father was a violent alcoholic who abused him throughout his childhood. The conditions in which he survived were harsh and unkind, is it any wonder he grew up to be the person he was?” You exhaled sharply in an attempt to relinquish your anger, your body relaxing as your shoulders slumped forward. Having thrown your poise to the dogs, you returned to your seat and folded your hands together in an attempt to reestablish the meager threads of politesse. “After all the things he’s told me, everything he endured, I can only imagine how frightened he must’ve been, all alone as a child, when the person who is supposed to keep you safe hurts you instead, it breaks my heart to even think about something so awful.” Losing all composure once again, you felt the sting of tears dribble out of the corners of your eyes and roll down your cheeks. “It wasn’t fair. He should’ve had someone to protect him. He was just a baby, he didn’t deserve any of that. And I’m not saying that makes up for all the horrible things he’s done, it doesn’t, he will still have to answer for that somehow, but he didn’t deserve what was done to him, and to think it had no effect on him is positively absurd.”
“Oh, now look at what you’ve done, you’ve made the poor thing cry,” Zeppeli interjected with an offering of a harlequin handkerchief which you politely declined in favor of wiping your tears away with the pad of your middle finger.
Speedwagon’s temper softened after hearing the contents of your outburst. Perhaps he had been hasty in his judgements. “I’m sorry, Miss, it was not my aim to offend you,” he offered in partial acquiescence in the hopes that his modicum of understanding would placate your dissatisfaction.
“I was not aware of the story in its entirety. And while I now understand your defensiveness, that still does not change any of his actions. If you ask me, he’s still committed deeds fouler than forgiveness warrants.”
“I’m not sure if that is your place to judge, the target of most of his cruelty was his brother, so it will be up to him whether he thinks him worthy of his forgiveness or not. But I have searched the depths of his soul for months, and I know there is good within him. I am sure of it.”
“So you think you can just tame the devil himself with niceties and noble convictions?”
“I think I did little else more than offer him an alternative and show him the world doesn’t have to be vicious and full of darkness, show him that he can be strong enough to change and become a better man, and I know he is a better man now than he was when I found him, but that credit goes to him, he didn’t have to change, he chose to, and I will not allow anyone to disparage his efforts.”
“Amico mio, the little lady is in love, do you really think you’re going to convince her to go against her lover?”
Speedwagon took a tense sip of his tea, realizing he had entered a battle he had no hope of winning. “Still, young lady, I would urge you to be careful with a man like Dio. You may say your love is shared, but he’s a crafty devil as far as I have heard, you would be wise to be wary around him.”
“I say, for all the ridiculous things you have asserted, this is by far the most outrageous. Have I not made my devotions clear? I have made my bed, and should I be made to be a fool for my adoration, then I will happily play my part. There is nothing in this world that is devoid of risk, he is simply one of mine, but I have chosen to love him all the same. I am very fortunate that he has granted me access to his most vulnerable parts, as such I will love him as the brilliant and complicated man that he is. He has had the strength to rise above his past to grow into a better person, for that, I will steadfastly support him, even if it means fighting tooth and nail against his detractors.”
“Ahh, you see Speedwagon, there is truly nothing as sweet as the love of a woman.”
The sound of the office door shutting jarred you from your discussion as Jonathan and Dio made their approach down the hall. “Dio, how was it, are you alright?” You asked frantically as you bolted from your seat at the table to meet him, instinctively coiling your arms around his waist in an exceedingly affectionate gesture that left him with a stray feeling of diffidence that he quelled by steadying his hands atop your shoulders.
“Everything is fine, love, you needn’t worry.”
“That’s good, are you sure you’re okay?”
“JoJo, really, how did things go?” Speedwagon asked diligently, unimpressed by your attentiveness.
Jonathan exhaled slowly to keep any rash conclusions from being drawn by words that had been carelessly said. “I have determined that, at the very least, Dio is not presently a threat. Baron Zeppeli, he has given me his word that he never once used the mask.”
“And you’re just going to take him at his word, Jonathan?” Speedwagon cried following an exasperated cough.
“I have decided to trust him as a show of grace, in our conversation I witnessed that he indeed has made an effort to change.”
“JoJo…” Speedwagon started
“Thank you, Jonathan, thank you for being so understanding.” You said, more unending words of gratitude following as you held yourself still in Dio’s arms.
Jonathan gave a slight nod before going to stand at the table “Baron Zeppeli, I left the details regarding the mask for you to tell. Sparing all but the essentials, I only told him of the fate that would have befallen him had he used it. I have left the rest up to your judgement, if you do not wish to involve anyone further, I would understand.”
Zeppeli pondered for a good while, watching as you crossed the room, still fastened at Dio’s side. A dedicated woman, an intelligent man, better as allies than enemies, that much was certain. “I fear that they have already been too involved to simply turn away from this path. Fate can be most unkind and I wouldn’t wish for them to find themselves in an unfortunate situation wholly unawares. As such, I will tell them the tale regarding my history with the mask.”
He stood to his feet and moved across your living room, after taking a seat on the couch he motioned for everyone to follow. Speedwagon sat beside him on the couch while Jonathan lingered across the room, leaning against the wall and Dio sat in the only empty chair in the room. Initially, you had taken a seat on the floor, but Dio silently gestured for you to join him, “be close to me, my love,” he whispered into your ear as you leaned against the chair. So you sat perched on the arm of the chair with your legs draped over him. He had one hand pressed against the small of your back to support you and the other resting on your thigh to serve as a sharp reminder to the others that you were his.
Baron Zeppeli’s face suddenly became very stern as he began to recount his dealings with the mask. How it had been uncovered, the fate that befell his crew after it had been used, his personal plight to rid the world of its evil. He spoke of how he’d become trained in the art of Hamon and how it can be used to vanquish those who’ve used the mask. He revealed to Dio that he had been training Jonathan to use Hamon as well, reminding him that had he used the mask, they would have no choice but to destroy him.
The thought sent a vicious chill down the length of your spine. With a wince, you felt yourself retreating into your bent knees, a reaction that was not unnoticed by the man in whose lap you sat. Without putting any thoughts into words, you felt the strong grip of his fingers reassuringly squeeze the top of your knee in languid approbation.
All at once, you were far more grateful that Dio had rid himself of the mask when he had. If he had used it either on himself or Jonathan, there was no telling what fury would’ve been unleashed. And moreover, selfish as it may have seemed, you thought of how you would never have been able to know Dio in the deeply important way you had come to know him. If he were just an inhuman monster, you could never have loved him the way you did. From your position in his arms, you endeavored to look at him, deeply and intensely like you had several months ago when he’d first wandered into your life, as if you were trying to uncover some secret understanding left untold. His gaze remained focused on the man telling the story, and yet, like that, you were able to observe all of his beautiful features. The same perilous starkness held within the sharp lines of his face, but in the new light of your realizations, even the most daunting angles of his face appeared softer. Pristine, silky, almost pearly skin framed by a glittering halo of luxurious golden waves that, in a way that served to mark the passage of time, had grown long past the threshold of his shoulders and hung in loose tendrils that still maintained a fashion of elegance in the manner he meticulously styled it. For a moment you recalled the profound sorrow you’d seen behind those tempestuous eyes, and while traces of melancholy remained, there was an undeniable sweetness that had taken hold in his pale honey-brown eyes.
Unable to resist any further, you leaned over and kissed his cheek in a way that felt far more modest than the way you regularly kissed him. “Thank you,” you whispered, your voice dithering in self-effacement.
“Hm, for what?” He asked with an approving hum as the hand that was on your back slid down to your hip.
“Thank you for being strong enough to walk away from the cruel ambitions you had been chasing before you knew me,” you kissed him again, this time on the edge of his lips, chastity still lingering in the minuscule touches, “and thank you for choosing me.”
“Oh, my love, that night when I confessed to you my sins and you soothed the torrents in my mind with a kiss, I was left with no other choice.” You felt the heat rising to your cheeks as he repeated the action on you, bestowing a tender kiss upon your forehead just as you had done to him last November. “You may not know it, but you vowed yourself to me that night, and as such, I vowed not to make you regret your decision.”
The blush on your face intensified and you became hyper-aware of the way his hands were delicately kneading your flesh just out of sight of the others. He let out a contented sigh as your body melted into his and placated all the desires for the warmth provided by closeness. His arm snaked around your body in a show of possessiveness.
“Behave,” you chided, shifting your legs in his lap in an attempt to be discreet.
A low chuckle escaped his lips, “but my dear, you make that so terribly hard.” He lifted your chin and pulled you in for the quickest of kisses, one that was only noticed by Jonathan who had not stopped observing your interactions; thinking how he had never seen Dio so affectionate.
By the time the entire history of the mask had been told the day had already slipped into evening and to Dio’s dismay, you asked your guests to stay for dinner, feeling the discussion was not yet complete, but after an onslaught of heavy topics since the early afternoon, you felt a casual dinner might to everyone well to alleviate some of the tension.
You stood from Dio’s lap and found your way to the kitchen with the intention of seeing what you could use to put together a suitable meal, taking stock of everything in your kitchen which more or less boiled down to leftover tidbits from the week. Standing puzzled, it did not take long for Dio to appear at your side. He let his arms find their way around your body, his hands settling on your stomach in a display of his newfound gentleness. You leaned into his touches, resting your head on his chest as you looked up at him. “Would you like some help?” His lips brushed over your still florid cheeks, finding pleasant enjoyment in the warm sensation that permeated his entire body even at the slightest contact with you.
Zeppeli stood up from his spot on the couch, “if the lady has been so kind as to offer us dinner, I think I will go and see if I can’t track down a bottle of wine, I believe I noticed a market on our way over here, Speedwagon, come join me amico.” Naturally, Speedwagon stood up as well and joined the other man at the door like a dutiful companion. “And would you care to join us, JoJo?”
“I think I shall stay,” he said, relaxing as he finally took a seat on the couch.
“You really don’t have to go through the trouble, it’s not going to be anything fancy, just soup and sandwiches with whatever I can scrounge up. I think you’ll find it rather humble,” you admitted, smiling warmly as you tried to finish setting up with all of your movements hampered by Dio’s grasp.
“No, no, I insist, it’s impolite for a guest to come empty-handed, come Speedwagon, let us go now.”
You watched as the two men disappeared down the street against the backdrop of the darkening skies. The last ephemeral light of day had sunk low against the horizon and cloaked the town in an eerie haze that could only have come from the winds off the Atlantic.
“Now,” Dio reiterated, only emboldened by two fewer sets of eyes watching him, “would you like for me to help you?” Before your response could come, he spun you around in his arms and pulled you into him; kissing you long and affectionately for the first time since the morning, this time making sure Jonathan saw.
“No, it’s alright, please rest, I know you’ve had a hard day.” You said, offering him a sympathetic embrace.
“Well, if that’s the case, it would be nice to spend some time alone with just my beautiful girl,” his hand cradled the side of your face, willing you to melt in his hands.
“You know I couldn’t turn them out, it would be rude.”
“Later,” he said in a mockingly stern tone as if to remind you of the promise you had made to him, his hand lightly grabbing your ass, leaving you flustered as he walked away and joined Jonathan on the couch.
And so you made yourself busy in the kitchen, hurrying to get everything started before Zeppeli and Speedwagon returned.
Dio found himself in an awkward spot next to Jonathan, neither of them quite knowing what to say to each other now that the more brutal details had been spoken into reality, it seemed frightfully implausible to merely shove them out of the way in favor of casual niceties. “Have you finished with that little display?”
“I’m not sure what you mean, you find it odd that I crave intimacy with the woman I love?”
“Not particularly, but was all of that really necessary?”
“Do you doubt my sincerity?”
“No, I do believe you’ve made yourself more than clear, I’ve just never seen you so devoted to a person other than yourself that you feel the need to flaunt it in front of me.”
“Hmph, JoJo, I would marry her in a heartbeat if she would have me,” Dio replied, his voice low and serious as to keep such a desperate proclamation from your ears, his arms were folded tightly over his chest in defensiveness.
Jonathan laughed heartily, causing you to look over. He sent you a sweet glance accompanied by a little wave. You leaned across the counter and blew a kiss at the both of them, with a coquettish smile on your face. “Marriage?” Jonathan asked, his tone mirroring the one Dio had taken. “I can’t believe The Dio Brando, infamous sybarite, is considering binding himself monogamously to any singular woman.”
“Don’t act as though I was some kind of lecher.”
“I’m sure there are a few compromising tales from our college years you would not want her hearing about.”
“Oh, JoJo, my angel is a very forgiving woman, she would be completely accepting of all the unflattering things you may tell her. Still, it would be rather uncouth to share such things with a lady, don’t you think?”
The two men laughed, it felt almost normal; genuine, familial even.
Finally, Jonathan exhaled deeply, running his fingers through his hair to scratch his head as if thinking of just the right words to say. “Dio, when are you going to come home?”
“JoJo, you are even more of a fool than I had realized if you think I would leave my lovely girl.”
“Bring her with. Father wants to know that you’re safe. He wants you back home. I’m sure he’d more than approve of your relationship.”
“I don’t know…” Dio replied with a forceful exhale. Thinking over what a reconciliation with his father may look like. “I would have to ask her first.”
“Ask me what?” You asked as you wiped your hands on a towel and walked over to the two men.
“It was nothing—” Dio began, but was interrupted by Jonathan.
“If you would care to visit our childhood home, I think our father would very much like to meet you.”
“Oh, that sounds wonderful!” You cooed with delight, throwing yourself between the two men on the couch. “See Dio, I told you your father would welcome you home, we have to go!”
“Aren’t you forgetting about your work, dear scientist?”
“Dammit, you’re right. Listen, this is important, so I’ll figure something out, let me talk to my boss on Monday, hopefully since the lecture went so well, he’ll be willing to give me some time off if it’s for a family matter.”
Dio exhaled sharply, he knew that you would be encouraging the arrangement, but he couldn’t help but feel apprehensive in his own right. From a logical standpoint, it would be a fortuitous relationship to maintain. The Joestar fortune was seemingly inexhaustible and connections were even more valuable than the wealth. Should he choose to reforge this connection he would have everything at his disposal; highly distinguished job prospects that would guarantee him a suitable income that he could sustain himself and likely you as well on, the promise of good fortune and the demand of a respectable position that came with an entry into the upper echelon of country society, and the addition of a beautiful wife to boot, on the outside it seemed the only sensible option, but he knew that if he chose to return to that world it would mean facing up to his previous actions with a compassion that left him flitting between horrors, the horror over what he had done and the horror over facing the consequences of it all.
Jonathan eyed you curiously, thinking what a peculiar person you were, though undeniably lovely in your own way, you did seem to compliment Dio in a meaningful capacity and Jonathan could tell by the way Dio looked at you that the adoration was very much mutual. ‘Quite a funny thing,’ he thought to himself as he took in a view of his brother that seemed almost uncannily soft in the warm glow of lamplight
The meal had been prepared and Zeppeli and Speedwagon returned with two bottles of red wine in tow. And so all five of you sat down to dinner. You were left thinking how odd it was that this was the first time you had properly entertained guests. The only other people who’d been to your apartment were your landlord, quick offhanded visits from the revolving door of neighbors who only infrequently made themselves known, and Dio upon his arrival. Despite the strangeness of the circumstances, you couldn’t help but feel rather fulfilled even if you acted more as an observer than anything. After the stress of the day, everyone seemed to have settled into a more agreeable atmosphere, idly conversing about unimportant things like old friends might, even Dio seemed in higher spirits than you would’ve imagined as Jonathan recounted an anecdote from their time at university
How pleasantly normal the evening must’ve appeared to any passerby who may have happened to venture a glance through the window; a group of friends and family gathered together for a meal and a glass of wine. No one would have been able to guess the events that had led to such a circumstance.
The chatter persisted well after the sun had gone and the dusky gloom of the sea air permeated the streets, dinner had long been pushed aside and the plates had all been cleared away and washed with fastidious alacrity before falling into the lazy comfort of the evening. “Well, if there is nothing else, then we ought to take our leave.” Jonathan declared as he rose to his feet. “See if you can fetch us a cab, won’t you, Speedwagon?”
“Listen, it’s already quite late and very few cabs come down this road after dark, why don’t you all just stay the night and make your journey home tomorrow?”
“Are you sure it wouldn’t be putting you out?”
“Yes, dear, are you sure it wouldn’t be putting us out?” Dio asked through gritted teeth, a hand on your shoulder to direct your attention to his immense disapproval.
“No, no, I insist, you must stay.”
“Are. You. Sure?” Dio asked, just out of earshot from the others as he glared indistinctly in their direction.
“Dio, Jonathan is your brother, these are his friends, I’m not turning them away at night, it would be rude, we can put them up for one evening.”
He looked at you with a crestfallen expression that teetered into exasperation as he exhaled, knowing it would not bode well to instigate an argument. “One night. And they leave in the morning.”
“That’s fine,” pleased that he yielded to your desire with only so much as a dramatic sigh, you allowed him to excuse himself from any further obligations. Disconsolate, he slumped onto the couch in a display of both annoyance and defeat while you scrounged up all the extra pillows and blankets you could find and set them up in the office for your lodgers.
“I’m sorry, can you tell I don’t entertain often?” You asked nervously while Jonathan helped you set up three makeshift beds on the floor that you imagined would be as uncomfortable as they appeared.
“This is more than sufficient” Jonathan assured you with his learned genteel approbation that he felt customary to assert in the presence of a lady.
“I’m sorry there isn’t much space, I fear this place isn’t meant for company, I remember when Dio first got here I slept on the couch for several weeks.”
“Dio, you took her bed and made her sleep on the couch?” Jonathan called down the hall towards his ill-humored brother.
“I didn’t make her, JoJo.” Dio sneered, finally endeavoring to leave his sulky position on the couch, but carrying his gloomy disposition with him.
“And you still fell in love with him after that?” You nodded eagerly, turning to Dio with a mischievous grin plastered across your face.
“I’m not sure if I like my darling little lady and my brother ganging up on me as though I am a sort of scoundrel.”
Both gave a courteous laugh which, to you, seemed a bit put on by both parties, but you figured the effort was there and that was more than you could ask for given the circumstances. To avoid the building of any tension, you handed the rest of the blankets to Jonathan and wished he and the others a good nightstand made a move to head in the direction of your bedroom, only to be apprehended by Dio’s strong arms ensnaring you and pressing your body flush against the wall. “Dio—” You breathed with unbridled anticipation slinking just on the edge of your periphery that was only further bolstered when Dio’s lips began attacking any spot he managed to access, despite the hurdle caused by your turtleneck, one hand pulled the material down just enough to reveal the supple flesh of your neck, still covered in a smattering of the various lovebites Dio had bestowed upon you throughout the heat of the previous night’s affair.
A lusty gasp slipped from your lips when you felt his hips grind into you, effectively cementing you between the wall and his massive frame, and leaving you completely at his mercy. You quickly covered your mouth to prevent any other noises from escaping while you remained in earshot of your guests. “I hope you aren’t forgetting the promise you made to me this morning,” he pulled the hand you’d placed over your mouth away just as a silky moan dripped from your throat. More than amused by your reaction, his lips curled up into a salacious smirk that only further intensified the warmth you felt on your face.
“Yes… whatever you want, I’m completely yours.” You sighed, nothing but putty in his hands.
“Hmph,” he rocked his hips against you, making sure you could feel the erection his pants were concealing. “I thought I was desperate for you, but look at how pathetic my little toy is; so needy from even the littlest of touches.”
His lips crashed over yours in a heated and messy fervor that left you fighting for breath in the haze that suddenly overwhelmed you. Satisfied by your desperately pitiable state, his lips curled into a devilish grin that hardly concealed the vulgar thoughts that loomed just beyond the charming veneer. “Unless you would like to continue this little tryst in the hallway, I suggest you accompany me to our bedroom. Or maybe the thought of our guests hearing me play with you is exciting to you,” he trailed his hand over your clothed sex, kneading you over your pants. The motion of your hips followed the direction of his hand. The friction became unbearably insufficient as you worked yourself up into hysterics.
“N-no, let’s go to bed,” You said feebly, your body nearly falling into his in desperate need to be entangled with him again
“Really, it seems as though you want them to hear all the luscious noises I’m able to coax out of you.” His hand teetered on the hem of your pants, his arrogant smirk showed you that he knew full well the effect he was having. “I think it’s turning you on, the thought of them knowing exactly how well I fuck you.”
“Dio…” your glassy eyes looked up at him pleadingly, “bed, please.”
With a cool chuckle, he walked you down the hall, finally in the sanctuary of your bedroom you felt more secure in your desires as Dio hastily stripped you of any article of clothing, stepping back to admire your naked body as you stood before him. His fingers dipped between your legs and glazed over your dripping cunt with a languid sensuality that he fell into whenever he was intent on toying with you until you lost your senses. “Hmph, so wet already?” He chided, the tips of his fingers spreading your wetness over your clit before locking over the bud. The pads of his fingers firmly traced circles over your clit, threatening to make you come undone at any moment. “Don’t tell me you’re going to be so easy tonight,” he said with a huff before pushing you onto the bed.
“S-sorry, just need you.”
“Then why doesn’t my lovely little toy tell me exactly what she needs from me?”
“Fuck me, Dio!” The pressure from his fingers had become too great, the tension pulled inside you until all the muscles in your stomach strained, leaving you only able to writhe pathetically against his hand, desperate for more contact as you teetered on the brink of orgasm.
“Oh, now that’s not very polite, is it? Especially after I’ve been so generous with you.”
Your brows knitted together in frustration at his insistent teasing, but you quelled your urges just enough to cool your head. “Wait,” you began as you shifted out of his grasp. “I know I said that we can do anything you want, but first, I would like to show you how grateful I am for everything you did today.” You placed your hands on his shoulders and guided him back onto the bed before stationing yourself between his legs. “I am really proud of you.”
“Are you, now?”
“Mmhmm, and let me show you just how much.”
You pulled your hair back, somewhere in the back of your mind you missed the convenience of a hair tie, but a stray piece of ribbon was more than sufficient to keep it out of the way as you wrapped your slender fingers around the base of his shaft and leaned your head down, temptingly close, pausing only for a moment to glance up at him. The innocent expression on your face only served to entice him more, his eyes glimmered with a wild hunger, a warm intensity burning silently beneath the thoughtful expression that had been enlivened with a tremendous amusement. Without another delay, you dragged your tongue along his entire length, increasing the pressure as you reached the swollen, needy head of his cock. Beads of precum dripped onto your tongue and coated your mouth with its salty taste as you closed your lips around him. He let out a contented sigh as the pleasure of your mouth took hold, a genuine smile crept across his face as he relaxed for the first time since the before the arrival of the day’s unexpected visitors.
The stressors of the day seemed to fade into nothing as you bobbed your head eagerly, taking more of him into your mouth until you felt him hitting the back of your throat. A grunt of satisfaction followed as he wound his fingers into your loosely tied hair, setting a more deliberate pace that bordered on brutal. He gave several more approving groans as he allowed himself to entirely let go. “Shit, darling…”
“Shh, just enjoy yourself.” You crooned as you stroked the length of his cock. “I love you.” You whispered before sinking your head back down.
The grip of his fingers tightened in your hair and his hips rolled disorderly and without rhythm, his orgasm imminent each time he felt the squeeze of your throat. With a violent hiss, he pushed your head down, holding it firmly in place while he fucked unforgivingly into your mouth. Tears pricked along the edge of your eyes from the brutal force of his strength, but you couldn’t help but feel a tightness in your core from the way he was using you. Perhaps a bit unceremoniously, you were jolted from any selfish thought when you felt the spurt of his cum into your mouth. With little warning, he collapsed fully onto the bed with his head craned back in the bliss of unrestrained pleasure.
With all the strength he had in his arms, he pulled you to his chest and coiled his arms around your waist and entangled you in a deeply sensual kiss that only furthered your arousal when you realized he could taste himself on your mouth. “God, that was brilliant.” He purred as his fingers dug into your skin, daring to knead the supple flesh that burned with desire under his touch.
“Oh, you are too kind.” You hummed against his skin as the embrace lingered.
“And I intend to be even kinder.” He untangled you from his arms and began pressing long, slow kisses down your body in a way that seemed to set you on fire.
“D-Dio, you know you don’t have to do that every time, right?”
He raised a curious eyebrow at you, your questioning snapped him free of the ardor that had been building. “And why wouldn’t I?”
“I-I don’t know, I just meant, you don’t have to.”
“Well, I want to.” With a newfound eagerness that seemed more boorish than romantic, he forced your legs apart and positioned himself between your thighs. “Look at that, darling, look at how badly you needed me.” He purred as he dragged his tongue along your needy cunt, the sounds that were made as he lapped your ample arousal were nothing short of obscene and only made worse when he hooked your legs over his shoulders to glean an even more advantageous angle.
“Fuck,” you groaned, reaching one arm up to grab the headboard for stability and the other down so that your fingers could find their way into his silky hair. His tongue lolled over your clit in ardent appreciation for the sweet taste that dripped from you as he slowly pumped his middle and ring fingers into you.
“Dio, oh my god, fuck!” You moaned, failing to stifle your cries of pleasure as you reached your peak with a fiery intensity that caused your thighs to tremble where they framed his head. Reclaiming his spot on top of you, where he peppered tiny kisses along the line of your jaw. You could feel his erection teasing on the precipice of your sex. “Dio, please… I need you.”
“Oh, were my previous efforts less than satisfactory?”
“No, of course not… but please…”
“Please what?”
“Please, Dio, please fuck me! I need to feel you inside me, please!” You screamed out your demands, giving little care to what may have been heard.
“There’s my good girl,” he praised, “such an obedient little toy. So well behaved.” It only took one easy glide for his cock to sink into you. Fully buried inside you, he endeavored to raise one of your legs to fuck you even deeper.
Over the many occasions in which sex had occurred, you had grown accustomed to the rough way in which Dio often pursued you, but frequently there was tenderness behind his actions. Adoration always lingered in his actions and the longer he remained bound to you, the more he found himself engaging in more romantic encounters with you. He had learned to enjoy slow, romantic sessions of lovemaking as much as the fiery, passionate affairs he had previously favored. But in that particular moment, he had no intention to do anything other than ravage you. If he had found ways to reaffirm his love through the sensual acts he engaged you in, this was one solely to relieve the stress that had built up from his emotional reunion with Jonathan. Your body was his to use as thoroughly as he wanted and he fully intended to relish in your deference to him.
Brutishly, he pounded into you with a near formidable strength that left you forming squeaky whines with each ruthless thrust. “Yes!” you cried, your head craning backwards as the intensity engulfed you.
So lost in the pleasure that he felt as your tight walls clamped around him, that he found himself lifting your other leg to his shoulder to test the limit of the elasticity he had found so endearing the night prior. “If I had known you were so flexible, I… fuck,” he hissed as you dug your nails into the skin of his back, overwhelmed by the pleasure of taking him so deeply as he bottomed out inside of you, he was robbed of his ability to speak anything other than airy profanities.
The additional sensation only seemed to coax you further towards another orgasm, in a weak attempt to keep your guests ignorant of what was occurring just down the hall from where they were sleeping, you clamped your hand over your mouth to muffle any indecorous noises as you careened over the edge and let the blissful glow of orgasm overwhelm your senses entirely. “Oh my… Dio… that was…” completely lost for words, you were left jittering beneath him with your left trembling desperately on his shoulders.
The rough pace continued, not allowing you a single moment to further relish the blissful feeling before he began the pursuit of his own pleasure. Slightly breathlessly, he moaned your name into your ear as he continued to thrust irregularly into you. He pressed his body tight against yours, for a moment you thought he had never been so deep inside of you, and with your bodies clung to one another in an ethereal state of ecstasy as he reached his climax. Sensitivity pinched in his abdomen and any measure of dignity had been cast aside in favor of the careless way he bucked into you without repose or consideration. The force alone kept your legs pinned to his shoulders while his hips sputtered frantically and without grace as he came deep within you.
The heat rushed to your core as your panting bodies basked in the afterglow. You hadn’t imagined how badly you needed him after such a stressful day. Only in the glory of your shared intimacy did you realize how necessary it all had been. Lying there, the feel of his skin on yours was more than divine.
“Was I too rough?” He had the nerve to ask in such a saccharine tone as he dotted pleasant kisses all over your placid body, your legs only just returning to their proper position. The gall of him to ask such a thing after he’d fucked you so thoroughly, so wildly, so unrestrainedly that it left you praying that your guests hadn’t heard the sensual moans that had dripped from your mouth in the wake of the pleasure Dio had granted you.
“No,” you said through a breathy groan as you lay in the aftermath of the euphoria, your body soft, pliable, and safely ensconced in Dio’s arms. “I like you like this as well. And besides, you’ve had a very emotional day, I’m glad I could help you get out all of your frustrations, and if you recall, I promised you whatever you wanted tonight.”
He kissed your forehead, an action so gentle it juxtaposed his previous roughness. You felt a low chuckle escape his lips as he began to kiss along the patterning of marks left behind from his previous actions. “And what if I had wanted to have you on the couch?”
You flushed with embarrassment at even the suggestion of something so indecent, “you wouldn’t…”
“Oh, but it has proved ideal for so very many situations,” as he brushed his lips against yours, you could feel the unbreakable smirk as he kissed you.
“B-but isn’t the bed so much more… comfortable.”
He hummed against your skin, adjusting your malleable body beneath him, once again pressing you into the bed “I suppose there are more possibilities here.” He peppered kisses down your body, kneading one of your breasts in his hand. A breathy sigh escaped your lips, but your body was too worn out to do anything else. “You have made such a wonderful toy tonight,” he growled into your ear, “I would have never guessed that such a surly little sprite could be so adept at taking orders.”
“I am not surly.”
“Hmm, just unmannerly.”
“I am not unmannerly. I always say please.”
“Well, that you do.” He pressed another kiss into your forehead. “I love you, my obedient little girl.”
“Now who’s acting unmannerly?”
“Oh, it seemed like you enjoyed yourself the entire time.”
“I can’t help it, you’re the best, always want you.” You said through an exhausted groan as your sleepy body immediately nestled in between his arm and chest.
“And I can’t help how much I’ve missed you as of late.”
“Mmm, love you.” You moaned as you teetered on the edge of sleep.
“I adore you.” He affirmed, he could feel your lips curl into a tiny smile against his chest as you drifted into sleep. After all was said had done, he was left feeling like he really was the luckiest person in the world. No amount of unpleasantries with JoJo could forsake the security he felt in your arms. Come what may, he would face whatever he had to if it meant keeping you at his side.
Notes:
Here we are folks, the cataclysmic meeting of our two groups. I know this was insanely long, but I wanted to make sure I was representing the complicated emotions felt by each character as they're all confronting the unraveling of long-held beliefs. I mean, Speedwagon just doesn't like Dio because he
lovesadmires JoJo, Zeppeli solely cares about the mask, matters with Dio (and reader) are of little importance otherwise, but Jonathan wants regain some semblance of normalcy to his family while having to come to terms with a new version of his brother, poor Dio is just going through it six ways from Sunday, I fear.It's only alluded to, but I wanted to make clear that in Victorian England, the punishment for murder was death and Dio definitely knows that, so the stakes are immeasurably high since he did unequivocally murder Dario. He knows that if he were to fail in making amends with Jonathan, he would likely be convicted and sentenced accordingly for a murder he committed as a child, which I believe was in part for his mother. I don't know if that's at all a popular line of thinking, but I always thought it was very telling that Dio mentions her at the cemetery before departing London.
Also, this might go without saying, but the cabs mentioned in are like, little carriages and not taxis, I don't want anyone to think we've ventured out of the backdrop of Victorian England haha.Of course, this chapter is kind of meant to parallel the first discussion Dio has with his reader in chapter three (I think?), but we see some distinctions in how his views have changed since then. It also draws from the confrontation at the mansion, I thought it was interesting how Dio tries to garner Jonathan's sympathy by fake crying and telling him a tale of how his impoverished upbringing led him down the path of wickedness, but curiously, he never once mentions the abuse he suffered which would have actually made him seem more sympathetic. I always thought that was very telling, just as he had been unable to lie about his father's honor, he had been seemingly unable to disclose his abuse even if it would've been for his own gain. So I flipped it here, in our Good Dio AU, and had him tell Jonathan the truth about his past (and actually cry), and of course, Jonathan, sweetheart that he is, can sympathize with his brother, no matter what occurred between them.
And naturally, I had to have reader put Speedwagon in his damn place. She stands behind her mans.Following the canon timeline, this is the day that Jonathan and Erina would have gotten married if things had gone unaltered. We'll casually keep that in our back pocket for later.
I hope you guys don't mind how long this one was, I will try not to make it a regular occurrence, but I know I have others in the future that are similar in length. I could probably splice them into smaller, more digestible chapters if that's preferable, but if you're all down with the long chapters, I'll keep them as they are.
Cheers!!
Chapter 30: Dweller on the Threshold
Notes:
A Halloween Special of sorts (unintentional, but if the shoe fits.)
CW: Vampire Dio shenanigans (it will make sense in context), blood, death, zombies, you know, typical vampire Dio antics
*I promise, it makes sense in context, I know you guys didn't sign up for a vampire Dio fic lol
(See the end of the chapter for more notes.)
Chapter Text
The silky veil of sleep had taken you both without effort. It would have been impossible to stave off the exhaustion for any longer after such a disharmonious day had cultivated in the indulgent exertion that it had. Deep amidst the fog of dreams, a scowl had scrawled its way across Dio’s face as he slept, his body turning mindlessly in the sheets. The ache of impending dread flooded his chest. Stuck in a tormenting stasis as hideous images swirled wildly through his brain.
A cloudy murky haze hung in his eyes, a swirling violent torrent of lights and sounds nearly overwhelmed his senses. He found himself lying on a bed in an ancient room wrought of cold stone. His heartbeat pounded in his ear like a drum, slow and regular yet somehow frigid and inhuman. A chill ran through his body, one incapable of being quelled. A pestilent miasma hung languidly about the room and only added to the uncanny atmosphere. Strain grew behind his eyes from the faint light of a candelabra on the empty mantle. No remnants of a fire were present in the fireplace. All his senses heightened, he could hear the rattle of the bare trees outside the window, the gusts of wind through the skeletal branches, and the soft padding of footsteps across the hall. He could smell the warmth of a living body as the footsteps drew nearer down the corridor. Insatiable hunger lurked just on the periphery of his mind.
The creak of the heavy door rang through his ears, the heavy languid reverberations cut into him like a knife.
Shock coursed through his veins when he was met by several putrid creatures, rank with the smell of the crypt, their mealy and cadaverous fingers digging into the soft plushy flesh of your arms as they tugged you into the room. Lesions and bruises ornamented your skin, but there was still a sanguine liveliness in your flushed lips. With a gesture of his hand, you were thrown from their grasp, colliding into his chest with a force that robbed the air from your lungs. A dark chuckle he could not control danced across his lips as his hands wandered aimlessly over your curves with a listless sensuality. “Please… don’t kill me.” You whimpered, your voice had strained to a nearly inaudible whisper from repressing the tears that dwelled so readily behind your watery eyes. It was feigned feeble strength you’d mustered. “You can do whatever you want, just don’t kill me, please!” But all your pleading had fallen upon deaf ears. His mind was obfuscated by lust and hunger. One arm coiled tightly around your waist, effectively preventing any means of escape. He could feel your heart pounding as his talon-like nails trailed arduously down your neck. He scratched against your flesh, watching it redden and rise, there was a shadow of heat left behind that he was certain was not his own. The feeling only cemented when the deafening sound of your pulse filled his ears. Frantically hammering in your neck against the tips of his fingers. “Please.” You cried again, your raspy voice left more feeble than your first attempt.
Stammering horror filled him, but he was powerless to change the fated actions. A mere witness in his own body as he grabbed your chin between his fingers and violently craned your neck. The thumping of your heart was even more evident against the taut skin. He licked his lips in greedy anticipation, something vulgar and animalistic that he could not liken to anything he had ever felt before. In the flickering light of the candles, a pair of glittering fangs could be seen only briefly before they notched against your neck. A terrified grimace settled on your face as he lapped the two thin streams of blood that ran down the supple curve of your neck.
“Relax, darling.” He purred. A nauseating, romantic tone that made him sick to hear in his own voice.
“Please, please, I just want to go home, I mean you no harm, please.” Your desperate, weak, pathetic cries did little other than amuse him.
Malevolent laughter escaped him as his fingers curled around your throat. “You are foolish to think I would let something so enticing out of my grasp so easily. You intrigue me, my dear. Not many can say that.”
You made a feeble attempt to squirm, but it only caused his grip to tighten. “Please, please, I just want to go home. I’m not even supposed to be here, please, I don’t want to die.” Your voice was choky and raspy and your once lively skin had faded to a ghostly pallor.
“Oh, such a frightened little thing. Worry not, my little pet, I still have plenty of uses for you.” Once again his fangs hovered against your skin before sinking into you with a sharp, searing pain. Warmth pooled to your neck and the metallic taste filled his mouth. Lust. Hunger. They were one and the same. Insatiable. After a mere moment, you were pliant and malleable in his arms. All of the fight within you had been thoroughly extinguished. You resolved yourself to death’s embrace. Gut-wrenching horror brewed within him as you lay limp in his arms, but any attempt to subvert the inevitable was futile. His fingers traced the skin above your collarbone and effortlessly sunk into you like fluid.
And before any more could be seen, he jolted awake. His hand clutched over his chest, through his ribs he could feel the racing of his heart, it was unmistakably human. His chest heaved violently as he tried to recoup some semblance of calm. “What an awful dream,” he said with a dejected sigh as he began to take note of each detail of his familiar surroundings; the room, the bed, you there at his side. In knowing he was still safe in your home, he was able to feel more at ease.
Beside him, you stirred from your sleep and blindly reached out a sleepy hand to touch him. “Dio, is everything alright?”
“I’m… fine,” he muttered, voice trembling as he tried to catch his breath.
Caught off guard by his shaky tone, you pulled yourself up to properly look at the state of him. “Oh, you poor thing, you look like you’ve had a terrible fright.” You pulled him close to you; a thin layer of sweat caused your skin to stick to his as you made an attempt to console him as though he were nothing more than a child. “Did you have a nightmare?”
The dread seemed to alleviate the longer he spent in your arms and he was reminded of just how much he enjoyed this sort of tenderness that he would have previously written off as weakness. “It was just a dream. It’s over now.” That’s all it was, just a dream. At least that is what he repeated in his head. Had Jonathan’s tale of the mask really had such a visceral effect on him? What else could explain such an overblown reaction?
You lightly brushed his hair back and dragged your fingertips across his cheek to soften the harshness of his expression. In glancing at the clock, you found it was past two in the morning and the world around you held an eerie quietude that only exacerbated the feeling of dread that seemed to cling to him ever since the bloody and gruesome images had played out in his mind. “Is there anything I can do?” You asked, perching yourself over his lap to put forth your best effort towards reassurance despite the weariness that was awash over your face.
“No, we should try and get back to bed. It has been a long day.” He said through a long exhale and made an effort to hide any residual anxiety with a mask of sangfroid. Despite his best attempts, he couldn’t wholly shake the unnerving feeling in his chest. Though he was no stranger to nightmares; in fact, they had always been a regular affliction since his childhood that he had never fully been able to alleviate himself from, this instance was singularly unique. Visceral and almost corporeal. It had indeed been a long time since he’d let a dream imbue him with such a genuine feeling of terror As he saw it, as awful as it was, it served as a reminder that, if nothing else, he was undeniably still human.
“Dio, we don’t have to go back to sleep yet, not if you don’t want to.” You rubbed his back gently to soothe some of the lingering tension. It occurred to you that you had never seen Dio look so small. For all the strength he exuded, there was a terrible amount of turmoil he carried with him in everything he did. Even after all the time you had spent nurturing him in a way you hoped was meaningful, you knew that he would always have those scars from a past so calamitous, the road to healing could never be neat, so you would have to love him when things were difficult as you did when things were easy. “Come on, I’ll go make some tea, let’s go sit in the living room awhile.” You gestured as you pulled a simple nightgown over your head.
He nodded slightly with a dejected look on his face, still in disbelief over his irrationality as he found some suitable clothes.
From a sulky spot on the couch, he watched you walk to the kitchen and begin going through the simple domestic actions that always held a distinct sort of magic when performed by you. He thought that perhaps he had never looked upon someone with such reverence since last he saw his mother in the saintly way she used to dote upon him. While there was some different quality to you; your mannerisms were less refined but simultaneously inexplicably endearing and no less worthy of his veneration. He thought back to his conversation with Jonathan and realized that there were but few people that he could say he cared for, rarer still were those that he loved, but the ones that he did, always revealed themselves simply in his mind. What should have been a complicated mess of emotion came to him smooth and uncomplicated and sure. Like night turning to day or winter giving way to spring, it was reliable and true and so invariably easy. He had buried the need so many times before, but he could no longer deny how profoundly he depended on the comfort which he now enjoyed.
With the kettle on and the teapot set up with a calming variety of herbal tea, you left the kitchen in favor of a spot on the couch beside Dio. With the benefit of proximity, he rested his head on your shoulder and intertwined his fingers with yours just to relish in the connection he’d come to cherish. “I do not enjoy making a fool of myself.” He said with a stern affectation, not daring to look in your eyes, lest you see the telltale weakness he felt.
“You are not a fool,” you said tenderly as you let your fingertips graze across his face. “It was just a bad dream, it happens to everyone sometimes.” You turned his face to force him to look at you, heavy dark lashes hung low on his sleepy eyes with the faintest etching of distress in the lines under his eyes. “Let me take care of you, okay?” You brushed your lips softly against his before being jolted from your position by the song of the kettle dragging you back to the kitchen. “Here, drink this, it’ll help you get back to sleep.” You held out a dainty cup full of warm amber liquid.
“Thank you.” He whispered tersely in a gratitude that was not without a deep chagrin. He accepted the cup and raised it to his lips, the steam form the tea veiled his face in a diaphanous blur of gauzy threads like spider’s silk. After setting the cup upon the coffee table, he guided you back into the spot next to him. “If it is no trouble, stay here a while, I would like to have you beside me.” The notable tremble remained as his voice fluctuated between frustration at his behavior and a sort of shame that demanded pity.
“I’m right here, there is no cause for worry,” you reassured him, gently petting his shoulders as he leaned against you. Accepting the comfort, he endeavored to rest his head in the crook of your neck, pressing a handful of sleepy kisses into your exposed skin before nestling into a suitable position. “I love you, you’re going to be okay. Would you like to talk about it?”
“No.” His response came out far more curt than he intended but he no longer wished to dwell on the matter. It had been cruel enough to see it play out in his head. How could he have hurt you so viciously and without reason? Is that what would have become of him if he’d used the mask? To think that so trivial an artifact might have served as a conduit for his ruin, it all seemed almost absurd, but between your anachronistic origin and the fantastical stories the Italian traveller had shared that afternoon, he was finding himself surrounded by absurdity. Still dismayed, he tried to wring the thoughts from his mind, perhaps it would be easier to push all the blame on JoJo for his intrusion into the comfortable life he had forged with you, but all he found himself able to do was curl his arm around your waist and let the tenderness envelop him.
“Would you like me to read something to you?” You asked, glancing over at your bookshelf to take stock of what Dio might not have read, but before your eyes could land on something, you felt the weight of a book placed in your lap. “Little Women? Dio, are you sure you want to read this?”
“Why ever not?”
“It’s just… it may be too trivial for you.”
“Nonsense, if you have enjoyed it then I think it is worthwhile to read.”
“You must be feeling better if you’re able to sweet talk me like that.” You teased with a wide, playful smirk across your face.
“Read.”
“Geez, so bossy for a man who was so terribly needy for my affection not five minutes ago.”
“Have I told you that I find your impertinence particularly unbecoming?” He chided as he sat up to ensure you saw the contemptuous look he wore to further solidify the affectation of feigned hurt as though your words had been unduly offensive.
“I believe you find it rather beguiling; just one of the many charms that makes me so entirely lovable.” You flashed him a cheesy grin before pressing the softest of kisses on his cheek.
Amused by your audacity, he leaned over and kissed with lazy adoration, which was as close to an admission as you could hope to get. “What am I ever going to do with you?” He muttered as he shook his head to which you raised a curious eyebrow with a playful, questioning glance. “I’ve already done that, innumerable times.” He ruffled your hair and leaned back, feeling more relaxed once the pleasant feeling of normalcy you seemed always to provide him took hold over his spirit once again.
You pulled his head back into its spot on your shoulder as you opened the book and began to read in the chipper little voice you always took that he felt could only be likened to an interaction between a lesson delivered by an eager schoolteacher and the lilting song of a fairy. Yes, there was always some innate musical quality to the way you spoke, or at least, the way you spoke with him. Each word felt tender and mellifluous as it filled his ears and lulled him back towards a readiness for slumber.
He knew not for how long you read, in fact, he had paid little mind to the story itself and instead faded into the illusory world he was able to imagine when entranced by the sweet melody of your voice. “Are you getting sleepy?” You asked with a playful tousle of his hair. He gave a small yawn and moved to head back to your bedroom but stopped when he noticed the mess of dishes from the tea you’d made. “It’s fine, you head to bed, I’ll clean up.” You said as you rubbed his back to emphasize your assurance. “Go get some rest, I’ll join you soon, okay?”
“Alright, thank you, love.” He whispered as he locked his arms around you in a tight embrace, lifting your chin up so he could kiss you once more. “You are far too kind to me.” He kissed the top of your head and disappeared into your room. Effortlessly falling back to sleep once he felt the comfort of your soft sheets.
Not wanting to lose any time, you quickly moved to clean up so that you could join Dio in bed. You hurried to the living room to fetch Dio’s cup, only to be greeted by the immense figure of Jonathan standing in the doorway. “Oh my goodness, you startled me,” you said, touching your hand to your chest to slow your racing heart, nearly letting go of the teacup in the process.
“My apologies, Miss, I did not mean to frighten you.” His dulcet voice seemed to soothe any unease you felt from the surprise.
“Oh, no, it’s fine, I just didn’t expect to see you. Is everything alright?”
“I haven’t been able to sleep a wink all night, sometimes I find it difficult to sleep away from home, but I was not expecting to find anyone else awake.”
“Well, unfortunately, Dio just went back to bed, so it would seem that you’re stuck with me.”
“I know, I saw the two of you.”
“Oh, you were watching?” You drew out the last word with a rather playful yet still slightly salacious inflection.
“It appeared to be a private matter, I thought it best not to intrude.”
“Ah, perhaps you were right to leave us be, I’m not sure how Dio would’ve felt if he knew you’d seen him in such a state.” You nodded with a soft smile, hoping to maintain the cordiality that he had offered. “Would you like some tea? I made it for Dio, but there’s plenty left. It may help you fall asleep.”
“Oh, I don’t want to be too much trouble, I’m afraid I’ve already put you out enough by allowing you to let us stay here.”
“It is no trouble,” you assured him with vehemence in your tone, “here, sit down and I’ll make us both a cup.”
You retrieved two additional cups and poured the tepid liquid from the teapot into each one. The lukewarm tea no longer steamed, but the flavor had richened after steeping for so long. You sauntered back to the couch with both cups of tea in tow and took a spot on the other side of the couch from Jonathan, the two of you stared forward in some bizarre mirror of the night you’d welcomed Dio into your home. “I appreciate you listening to him, Jonathan”
“I didn’t do it for his sake, nor my own, not even for yours, but I felt I owed a proper explanation to my father, he’s been worried for Dio since his disappearance last autumn.”
“Whatever your reason, I can tell that you’re a kind person,” you touched his arm gently with a sort of familial understanding, “so once again, thank you for listening to him. I know you didn’t owe him any leniency, it’s noble of you to give it.”
Jonathan relaxed a bit, seeing that you had no intention of stopping the conversation. “Dio never once spoke about his father. I had no idea what he had endured, perhaps if I had known, things would’ve been different in our youth.”
“It wouldn’t have been different,” you said flatly, Jonathan glanced at you in surprise. After seeing how tenderly you handled him, he was started by such an abrupt dismissal. “Dio was not a good person then and he wasn’t ready to change. Even if you’d tried to talk with him, I don’t think he would have been willing, I think it would’ve only made him angrier. He went through a lot, more than he deserved to and it hurt him so much that he wanted to make everyone else as miserable as he was. But that doesn’t make it right. He was wrong, but he was hurting. He’s still hurting, but I know you are, too.”
“I see he’s told you quite a lot then.”
“He’s told me what he’s willing to tell, maybe not everything, but enough for me to know that growing up with him must’ve been rough on you, and I’m really sorry about that. You didn’t deserve his rage.”
“Dio was… he was complicated. There were times when he could be agreeable but there were others when he was utterly merciless. However, the entire time that I’ve known him, he’s always been very driven and incredibly intelligent.”
“Oh, believe me, I know. I think Dio is the smartest person I’ve ever met but he does come with a full set of baggage.” You hummed, leaning back into the couch while you recalled all the many hours of conversation during which Dio confessed to you things he had never before spoken of and seamlessly you seemed to fit into each other’s lives in spite of the many years that should have separated you. “But I suppose we’ve all got something.”
“I believe that is true.” He said with a wistful look in his eyes as he thought over his long history with Dio, all of the wicked things he’d done. Knowing what happened to Dio did not change that he had willingly chosen to do all of those things, but perhaps given the greater context, it did soften some of the ridicule he’d endured. He thought very much that he would have liked to have had Dio as a brother and wondered what it would take to forge that bond after all they had endured together.
“And Jonathan, I need you to know that he really is sorry, for all the awful things he’s done. I know he has a hard time saying it, but I know in his heart that he really is.”
Jonathan placed his large hand over yours, “I know he is, it would be nice to hear it from him though.”
“I know, but he’s trying.” You assured him with a soft smile, not wanting to overstep your bounds, you knew well that Jonathan had received the brunt of Dio’s cruelty while you were privy to the luxury of his kindness. “I know it’s not enough, please give him some time.”
“I think,” he started, pulling his hand away from yours, “it’s my turn to express my gratitude to you.” He placed his hand on your shoulder now, in the sweet but parental way a father might do to his child. “Thank you for all you’ve done for my brother. I don’t know how you did it, but you changed him, and all for the better.”
“I didn’t do anything really, he made the choice to change for himself, I was just there for him when he needed me. All my fine words would’ve been useless if he hadn’t made the choice to be better. I merely believed that he could and maybe that’s all anyone wants, someone to believe they can be better than the person they are at that moment.”
Jonathan smiled kindly, remembering his previous life with Dio and the wretched nature of the man before he’d swayed into your arms, he thought of how different he had become, and despite your insistence otherwise, you felt undoubtedly this change was brought about by your influence. “I see your point, Miss, but you needn’t sell yourself short, what you have done here is nothing short of a miracle.”
“I suppose, but I will not have anyone diminish the credit he deserves. If I had any impact, it is because he allowed me,” you said boldly, your face flushing soft and pink as your mind wandered back to the early days of your love affair. “I love him, you know, more than I’ve ever loved another,” your voice fell low and meek, almost childlike as though it had been the confession of some great secret. In truth, you almost felt as though you were. Your relationship with Dio had been a sacred thing, shared only by the two of you. The opinions of outsiders had meant nothing, and with no family to speak of, there wasn’t anyone to share with in any meaningful capacity. Jonathan was the first person of any significant station to be allowed to know the extent of your relationship. Complications aside, it felt delightful to engage in pleasant conversation with one so welcoming and warm and you held onto the hope that Dio would come to regard Jonathan as the family he ought.
Jonathan laughed wholeheartedly, “I think Dio is a very lucky man to have a woman feel so genuinely about him, I hope he realizes that. He does treat you properly, I hope?”
Your cheeks blushed even brighter than before, scarlet red as though a fever had overcome you for a moment, “o-of course, he’s always a perfect gentleman.” Some of that day’s interactions led you to believe Jonathan might not have fully believed you, “and I know that he loves me, too” you added, hoping to steer the conversation away from the disheveled state you’d greeted him in and marks of Dio’s affections that you knew Jonathan had seen adorning your collarbones that morning, and especially after Dio had been so relentless in his pursuit of you that evening after everyone had gone to bed, “even though it was hard for him to let me in, he took that chance for me.”
“It’s hard to imagine Dio in love, but I assume with all the kindness and warmth you provided him, he was left with no choice… still,” he breathed in very deeply, finally feeling a wave of exhaustion crash over him, “it’s rather odd, but I’ve never seen him quite so happy.”
“I’m glad to hear that, I think he deserves happiness, more than he knows.”
“I think you deserve it as well,” he mused, looking up at the ceiling, his eyes feeling very heavy, “are you happy, here, with him?”
“You know, it’s so strange, but I really am. In the time that he’s been here, he’s given my life an entirely new meaning, what used to be my only driving force in life, isn’t so important, everything is softer now, as though the entire world was bright and airy, dappled in pastels, for once, I feel as though I made the exact right choice, and I didn’t even make it for myself,” you waxed dreamily, lost in the thought of how different your life had been just a few months ago.
“How interesting, Dio said almost the same thing about you.” He smiled, closing his eyes and he leaned back onto your couch.
The thought felt warm in your chest, you were more eager than ever to rest your own weary body beside his. “It’s very late,” you muttered, feeling rather exhausted yourself, “we should both try to get some sleep,” you said, handing Jonathan a blanket. “You can stay here, if you’d like, might be more comfortable than the floor.” He accepted the blanket and curled up somewhat awkwardly on the couch which he was much too tall for. “Goodnight, JoJo, thank you again.” You waved him off from the threshold of your bedroom door, but he did not respond, he had already sunken into a pleasant slumber.
On your bed, Dio lay asleep, a peaceful look on his face. It was a welcome sight after his nightmare. Tentatively you pulled back the covers and gingerly climbed into bed so as to not disturb him. Before you could even close your eyes his arms ensnared you, pulling you close to him. “Dio!” You exclaimed in surprise, you looked at his face, he was still asleep with the same serene expression you observed when you walked into the room. You breathed a sigh of relief and placed a kiss on his muscular forearm which crossed over your chest. Relaxing against him, you finally allowed yourself to fall back asleep, all your fine hopes still at the forefront of your mind. Everything that had been and all that was to come. The world, you thought, had never seemed so strange and beautiful.
Notes:
With this chapter I am proving to myself that I could write him scary if I ever wanted to ;p
Maybe in a different universe, reader was just one of Dio's victims/meals. Maybe if she hadn't intervened when she met him on the street. But, that, of course, is not this universe. Alls I know is that as long as Diavolo dies, it's canon. I love the multiverse!
I know I've made mention to Dio's nightmares before, the poor tortured boy could never share anything ever so he just relived it all at night, though this is more a peek behind the curtain to what might've been.
You didn't think we were done with all the copious angst, did you? I still have a ton to write! Dio and Jonathan have to get all of their issues out before they become the good brothers I want them to be.
Neither of them are going to heal overnight and I *desperately* want to explore the complexity of what Jonathan is feeling as well. Both these boys deserve a happy ending.This was the last chapter I had written before I started posting this story, it's so interesting to see all that it has become since then. It's been a pleasure sharing it.
HAPPY HALLOWEEN!!!
Chapter 31: The View Between Villages
Notes:
We're back!!
I hope everyone is getting tentatively ready for a shift in scenery.
(See the end of the chapter for more notes.)
Chapter Text
The following morning you woke earlier than you would’ve liked to, a restive night of sleep had followed the stressors of the previous day and you were more than ready to bid your guests farewell and fall back into the peaceful simplicity of your ordinary life. Despite your best effort to move, Dio sleepily pulled you back into his arms. Only after several failed attempts to escape from his hold and a considerable amount of saccharine promises did you finally convince him to get up.
With lazy kisses accompanying each action, he helped you around the kitchen while you prepared breakfast. Determined not to take his hands off you for even a moment, he let his arms drape across your shoulders as he callously eyed Jonathan’s form asleep on the couch. “It seems JoJo has made himself rather too comfortable in our home,” he sneered, a rough night of sleep had done little to ease the displeasure the intrusion had caused.
“Oh, don’t be grumpy, he had a hard time sleeping last night just like you.”
“He and I are nothing alike.” He scoffed, turning his head when he heard Jonathan stirring awake.
“Hm, I’m not so sure about that.”
His face fell to a frown that expressed how incredibly baseless he found your assumption to be, but he dispelled his anger by coiling his arms tightly around your waist and pulling you into a particularly lascivious kiss that he was certain was the first waking sight his brother got to see that morning. The lines of discomfort became evident on Jonathan’s face as Dio backed you against the edge counter and gazed down upon you with smoldering eyes that were almost goading you into being lifted onto the countertop so that he could further his prurient display. So lusciously was he handling you, that you almost gave into whatever depraved desire he may have had lurking in the depths of his mind, but a subdued cough from Jonathan jolted you back to your better senses. “Later,” you whispered with your hands placed on his chest and found a less suggestive position as you resumed the task you’d been pulled from. Even still, he kept an arm locked around your waist as he begrudgingly assisted you in preparing food for the relatively unwelcome guests. In fact, his incessant need to touch you persisted even after the others had joined you in the kitchen.
Sat as comfortably as possible at the table, a simple and quiet breakfast was shared with a particular quickness as your company ran through platitudinous endearments and other pleasantries while hushed plans for their departure were discussed. Speedwagon helped you clear away the dishes while Zeppeli went out in search of a cab, a task which proved more difficult than he had imagined as he did not return for nigh on half an hour. In that time, Jonathan and Dio had set arrangements for Dio’s return to the Joestar mansion barring the fact that you would have to make a formal request at work for your extended absence.
With the carriage secured, Baron Zeppeli and Speedwagon boarded in preparation for their leaving, but Jonathan lingered several paces behind and met Dio on the precipice of the street. “Dio, I will look forward to your return home next week. I will see to it that everything is properly arranged and I know Father will be most pleased to hear of it.”
“We shall see, JoJo.”
“Really,” he said, placing his hand on Dio’s shoulder with a tenuous familiarity, “I am glad that you are doing so well. I know that this was hard on all of us, but it took a lot of courage to be better in the face of adversity. We have both grown since our boyhood and since last autumn.”
“Speak for yourself, JoJo.”
Jonathan gave an extended exhale through his nose accompanied by a soft shake of his head, choosing to brush off his brother’s surly remarks and chalking it up to his formidable pride that had always left the man cloaked in self-possession and made it nearly impossible to discern his true feelings. “And Miss, I thank you greatly for allowing us to stay, I hope we have not been too much trouble for you and I am deeply sorry about the door. If you would like, I can send someone to repair it later this coming week.”
“Tut tut, you were no trouble, I am very glad you and Dio were able to reach an understanding. I have wanted nothing but the best for him since I met him. And do not fuss over the door, I am more than capable of fixing it myself.”
“Is that so?”
“Quite so, I enjoy tinkering with things, it’s like a personal passion of mine.”
“Then at least let me pay you for the damages.” He insisted as he held his shoulder with a bashful, boyish smile on his face.
“Nonsense, I will not hear of it. You are going to be putting us up at your home for a week, I think that is compensation enough.”
“Well, alright, let me know if you change your mind. And thank you again, it was lovely to make your acquaintance.”
“And yours as well, we will see you soon, Jonathan.” You offered him the friendliest of smiles as he too boarded the carriage.
You waved them off from the street as they set off. Dio stood sulking behind you with a bleak grimace etched across his face. He could not believe that he’d been inveigled into returning to the Joestar Mansion. He could not believe he’d been persuaded to rekindle a relationship with his father, the man he had, only several months before, been intent on murdering. How could he even possibly confront him after such an act? How could the man possibly forgive him? Standing in the faded morning light, he was left adrift in an endless sea of unanswerable questions that afflicted him with the same uncertainty he had long feared. He was certainly no stranger to taking calculated risks, but each time he did, he had taken the time to thoroughly devise a proper strategy that left little room for error, but even for all his careful consideration, he had been burned once or twice, and always it was JoJo who stood at the nucleus of his undoing. As much as it plagued him to admit, JoJo was a terrible weakness that he could only hope to free himself from through the dubious offer of amity. But even still, he knew he would have to tread lightly in any of his future affairs with both Jonathan and his father alike.
Once the carriage finally passed out of sight, you returned inside in a state of utter exhaustion. All the events of the weekend had caught up to you in a fraction of an instant; your lecture, all the preparation it had demanded, a heated night with Dio that assuredly offset your need for rest, and the tumultuous encounter with Jonathan. So much had been packed into so little time, compounded with your already heavy workload, you could hardly summon the will to move, let alone the energy needed to repair your broken door. With little heed, you threw yourself onto the couch and determined the cleanup and the door would be a problem for you to worry about later.
Dio sat beside you, exhaling sharply as he settled in. “They’re finally gone…” he scoffed in annoyance, but it masked the great relief he felt to be rid of them.
“Dio, thank you for everything you did yesterday. It was extremely brave of you. I know it must’ve been hard to talk with Jonathan like that, but you did so well, I’m so proud of you.” You said as you nestled your head against his shoulder.
He chuckled softly behind a subtle smile. Part of him wanted to disparage your remarks; he didn’t need you to baby him, but another part of him enjoyed the ovation. It had been a truly exhausting endeavor, one he only entertained because he knew it would please you. Inwardly, he still clung tightly to his scruples about returning to the home he had left. “Would you care to go back to bed?” He asked, pulling your tired body onto his lap. You glanced at him warily, knowing full well the implication that often existed behind an offer of that sort. Noting your expression, he took on an almost offended appearance. Did you really think him so insatiable that he would be unable to control his carnal impulses when you were so obviously in need of rest? “Not for anything of that kind,” he kissed you gently, roving his hands along the length of your body, “besides, I’ve told you that it’s no fun if you just lie there and take it.”
“I would love to, but I have to fix the door.” You said, shaking your head with an accompanying groan as you listlessly disappeared down into your office in search of your tools.
Not without a glum expression and several complaining remarks did you begin what you considered the most pressing job at hand. Wearily unscrewing the broken hinge from the door to commence your repairs. “My brother,” Dio began with a rather impish sneer, “has always been an oafish imbecile. To completely disregard your safety the way he has…”
“Oh, it’s not a big deal, I can fix it.”
“Hmph, it is the principle that he behaved so destructively with so little consideration for your wellbeing.”
“Dio… it’s okay.” You smiled, thinking it wiser to hold your tongue rather than start an unnecessary argument, especially after he had been as agreeable as he was the night previous in spite of the difficulties. “Now, be a dear and hand me four screws.”
Without so much as a scoff, he dug the materials out of your toolbox and placed them gingerly in your hand, alighted by the soft scrape of your fingers against his palm. He watched you closely as you carefully tended to the mess and was hit with the realization that in spite of all your strange ways, there was something so endearingly welcoming about you. It had not just been a luxury you afford to him, but to everyone who had the pleasure of knowing you. The embers of greed flared up in the back of his mind, how ruthlessly he wanted to have it all for himself. The kindness you shared was not JoJo’s to keep.
From where he stood he observed you as you stood somewhat precariously on your kitchen chair with the remaining screws pressed between your lips as you secured the door back on its hinges, confident in each of your movements and deathly focused; much as he had when he first met you, he found your hobbies particularly odd for a woman, yet perhaps contextualized by your curious place in time, and while some may have considered your talents undignified, he had grown to find them rather endearing, but he had heretofore never been witness to such calm self-assurance in action. You were to him, as you always were, incredibly enigmatic and entirely captivating, but something about seeing you in that position offered him an even greater perspective into the truly inscrutable person you were; there was something so sibylline about you, something erudite, and impenetrably sagacious in a way that he could only find comparable to himself, but there was something else, something more tender that vacillated between sanguine and wistful, a remarkable fairy-like quality that only you seemed to possess, something elfin that would have seemed more at home in the pages of a fairytale. He wondered how if he had met you under different conditions, how your relationship would have played out. He had no doubt that he would have tried to pursue you, but to what end? Would you have stirred within him such a pronounced response or would you have been merely relegated to the fate of the other liaisons that he had so casually enjoyed until his interest had been lost; surely, he thought, he would not have grown bored of you so easily, but still he wondered. He wondered if the hold you had on him was so profound that it would extend into the depths of another life. As it stood, he could not picture his life without you and the conditions which had brought about your entanglement only served to illuminate that supposition further. You were, after all, meant to be his.
“Alright, that ought to do it.” You beamed, dusting off your hands in emphasis. “Is the offer of a restful afternoon in bed still on the table?”
“For you, my darling, certainly,” he crooned as he helped you down from the chair and gallantly kissed the back of your hand.
“How I adore it when you act like a gentleman.”
“My dear, you should know that it is not an act.”
“My apologies, if that is the case, then won’t you carry me to our bed?”
It only took an instant for him to sweep you off of your feet and have you nestled securely in his arms. You sighed at the pleasant comfort as your tiredness overcame you as you hung weakly in his arms like a doll, threatening to have you fall asleep while still in his grasp. “There’s my needy girl.” He said, placing a kiss on your forehead and reveling in the delightful way your face scrunched into a blissful smile. Beguiled by the way he found you just as endearing in a state of submission as when you endeavored to be more commanding. Perhaps that was it, that paradoxical duality that you had about you. Something so utterly distinct that he did not think it could be replicated by another. It was the crux of you and you alone belonged to him.
Back in the security of your bed, Dio admired the way your sleeping form nestled into the contours of his body, so tender, so angelic, with a sylphlike elegance. He leaned over to brush his lips against your cheek, watching as you sighed gently at the contact and your body relaxed even further against his. Everything he had said to Jonathan was true. He adored every single thing about you. He thought himself immensely lucky to have you as his own, and even though it had been more of a boast to Jonathan and a clever lie to your boss, he would absolutely marry you if given the chance. All the ways your love had changed him, he couldn’t begin to comprehend.
…
Jonathan and company arrived back at the Joestar Mansion by the early part of the afternoon. In all the time that had passed, Jonathan hadn’t realized just how close Dio had been the entire time. Such a strange and fitting circumstance that he had been under their noses the entire time. He would have thought that if Dio had run, he would’ve run far beyond where anyone would have hoped to find him, and yet there he was, not more than a few hours' journey.
Upon their return, George was waiting at the doorway, ready to welcome his son home and eager to hear any news regarding his altercation with Dio. Baron Zeppeli and Speedwagon courteously took their leave as Jonathan approached his father with great hesitancy burdening him with each step.
“Father…” Jonathan began, his voice was laced with a tremulous trepidation as he spoke.
“JoJo, it brings me such heart to see you’ve returned safe and well.” He patted Jonathan’s shoulder affectionately and offered him a restrained smile, “…and what of Dio?” His words were direct, but they concealed a wariness he’d long been harboring now that the truth stood in front of him.
“Dio is… surprisingly well…”
The sternness in George’s face melted into a meek sense of relief. “If that is the case, then why have you not brought him home with you, were you certain to tell him he is still welcome at home, where he belongs?” George bit back the zeal in his tone to keep it from sounding too much like a reprimand. This was the first news he had had of Dio since November and to learn his son was safe was all the solace he needed, but even for all his nobility, he was but a man, and the desire to have his family whole again weighed heavily on his heart.
“Yes, father, I did. He seemed apprehensive to come back home, but ultimately agreed to return next week. You see… at present he is a bit… engaged.”
“Engaged…?”
“In a sense… he… there is a girl, and he seems rather taken with her. I-I told him he could bring her along, I hope that was alright.”
“I see, that was more than alright for you to do, JoJo. I am just glad to hear that he is well and if he has become serious with someone, then I am eager to meet her, though I must say, it is rather surprising given the propensity your brother had for rejecting any attempts at finding him a suitable partner before. But so long as he is well, that is all that I can hope for.”
“If it’s worth anything, from the little time I spent with her, she seems to me a lovely person, and Dio seemed terribly happy with her. Absolutely besotted with her if I am to be honest.”
“Well, that is good then. I have never wanted anything more than for my sons to find happiness.” He paused for a moment, remembering the circumstances which had led to Dio’s disappearance. In truth, he had not thought much of the grave reality of Dio’s actions. It had been so natural for him to forgive him that he hadn’t given much consideration to all that had happened. “It pleases me greatly to know that everything has turned out for the better. I will see to it that no charges are levied against him. I look forward to his return home.”
With that, George took his exit and left Jonathan standing alone in the doorway feeling more addled by emotion than ever before, “Father…” Jonathan at once felt drained of vitality, the vexatious incident has stirred greater emotion that had long remained untouched since their tumultuous boyhood.
After the careful reconciliation, the three men entered the mansion and took to their own respective tasks. Zeppeli went to the library to further his research, while Speedwagon returned to the room he’d taken up lodging in since leaving London, and Jonathan returned to his chambers alone, he had much to think about.
He collapsed on the bed, playing the previous day's events over and over in his head, he tried to sleep but the endeavor proved futile. In spite of his efforts, Jonathan found himself incapable of relaxing. Even being in his home now felt a strange discomfort perhaps spurred on by the thought of clemency with Dio. He knew that his father would not spurn him, he knew that Dio would be welcomed home with open arms, he knew that all of Dio’s crimes would be washed away with the wave of a hand and he would walk away with little other than a slap on the wrist. The emotions spiraled through his head in a twisted flurry; knotted together I’m a complicated web of thought and the more he attempted to wriggle free, the more tightly the threads dug into his skin. It was as though the moment he had returned home all the anger he had carefully repressed had come rushing vengefully back to him. Everything he had lost. Everything he had lost at the hands of Dio. The days of his youth had all been wasted in loneliness only for him to end up inferior to his brother. How was it fair, how was any of it fair? That Dio could commit such atrocities only to be welcomed anew and heralded for his fine efforts. Jonathan had spent his entire life always trying to do what was right. He was raised to be honorable and noble, blessed with a soul that cared far too much for the well-being of others, perhaps cursed would be nearer the mark if he was doomed to be the one picking up after his brother’s mistakes. The crushing weight of responsibility, of the mask, of his brother, of his decisions. How was it fair? Callous as it may have been, for he did have a degree of sympathy for the pain Dio had experienced as a child, but he could only come to the determination that it simply was not fair. The thoughts of the sly fortune teller echoed in his mind, that Dio must have been blessed or cursed with an otherworldly kind of luck that others were not afforded.
The last several months had taken their toll on him. Jumping from one severity to another had left him ill at ease and in a constant state of alertness that had begun to drown his compassion in a brackish slurry. It was only then that he realized that he could not remember the last time he had a proper night’s rest. He had thought that the relief that washed over him after having found his brother and well with you would’ve allowed him to sink into a much-deserved comfort, but even still, his mind was still plagued with worry; ruminating over the possibilities. Everything that could have been, all that is, and what still might be. It was strange, long he had agonized over how he would tell his father that Dio was beyond salvation, that he would never return home. He had pondered the ill effects such news would have on his father’s weary heart, but even with the heralding of positive news, Jonathan found the agony had not been allayed but rather had merely reoriented itself into a different sort of suffering.
As much as he wanted to take Dio at his word and believe that he was a changed man, it was difficult to look past all of his previous villainies. Though, in thinking it over with clarity, there was something undeniably different in his demeanor. How he had spoken of his previous actions with an albeit reluctant openness was remorseful. And the way in which he had spoken about you was unlike anything Jonathan had ever observed in the man. He was nothing if not catastrophically cunning and fatally charismatic; Jonathan had been witness to the depth of his various charms throughout their boyhood, even more so during their time spent at university. As such, he considered himself to be rather wise to the lies Dio so often wove. But no, something this time was different. Jonathan had never known Dio to be genuine in his feelings, but in observing how he was around you he sensed no trace of deception. But even so, after such a complex string of events he was finding it hard to simply look past everything he’d undergone.
Feeling unfair for rest, he meandered over the familiar gardens of the Joestar mansion, covered in a gentle frost from the chill of early February. Carefully, he mulled over this predicament. If nothing else, he was determined to make an effort to accept Dio’s new ways. Even if he could never fully forgive him, he would try to be as gracious as his apprehensions would allow. Justifying his decision as being for his father’s sake, but he knew that it was also for yours as well as his own, probably even for Dio’s. In a way, he hoped that the guise of a close relationship between him and his brother that had deceived so many could eventually become a reality.
He passed the low soundly trees; bare from winter’s frigid claws, but soon to come back to life with the buds and blossoms of the early English springtime. Biding his time and gazing upon the expansive land of the estate, he became caught in the misty memories of his youth.
Jonathan walked further towards the banks of the river where he’d spent many lonely days of his youth in the quiet solitude he lived with for so long. A harrowing loneliness, only interrupted briefly by the companionship of his faithful dog, Danny, and even more briefly by the lovely Erina Pendleton. Both of these great treasures had been lost to him in the tragedy of his boyhood with Dio.
Could he really forgive someone who’d taken so much from him? Perhaps he could not. His eyes steadied upon the endless flow of the waves that glistered like stars in the subtle glow of the sun. He thought of his mother. Though he had never gotten to meet her, he felt as though he knew her. She had given her life for his and he had suffered with the knowledge that someone had made that sacrifice for him and it had made him determined to always live his life with decency and kindness. But to forgive Dio, he felt, was a task that perhaps could only be accomplished by a saint.
Turning away, his fingers traced the carving in the tree. He thought about many years ago, what it had meant to him then, what it still meant to him now. Repeatedly he ran along the engraving as if the reminder that it existed could undo some of the pain the years since had brought. “Dio… have you really changed?” He pondered aloud, lost so deeply in his memory that the world around him blurred and nearly disappeared entirely, “I will have to hope that you have.” He gritted his teeth, hoping the revulsion he felt was not an augury of ill-tidings. For his father’s sake, he would have to accept Dio. For his father’s sake, he would have to try his best to forgive him. Just as he had so often in his youth, he would swallow the feelings buried deep in his heart for the sake of sensibility. The resentment he fostered was his alone to hold and nary a word would be spoken of the invidiousness of his beliefs. All of his contempt would be hidden beneath the veil of gentility he knew so well. He clenched his fist as the thoughts raced through his mind. How could he harbor such anger? He had been raised to be kind and forgiving, but in his heart, he could not relinquish all the suffering he had endured.
“JoJo…” a lyrical voice cut through his recollections. “Is that really you, Jonathan Joestar?”
Jonathan spun around almost comically after such a jolt, his eyes falling on a beautiful young lady whose long blonde hair was tied into a loose braid. Jonathan stared at her in astonishment, her face felt somehow familiar to him. “You-you look like… but no, you couldn’t possibly be… I do believe that my eyes have deceived me.”
“Erina Pendleton?” She simpered with a knowing lilt in her voice. “If that is who you are meaning then your eyes have not deceived you.”
“Then it really is you” Jonathan's entire form relaxed with all the softness of a summer breeze, as if all his worries were quelled in that singular moment.
“I have been hoping to find you, my how you’ve grown!”
“Erina…” Jonathan began in a hushed voice, “I didn’t… I had no idea you’d returned.”
“Last autumn,” she said with an eager nod.
“I see…” Jonathan thought of all the things in his life that had changed since autumn. What an odd twist of fate for her to have found her way back into his life. “Would you care to accompany me for a while, if you aren’t busy that is?”
“It would be my pleasure.”
The pair walked along through the heath past the craggy remains of castle walls, Jonathan remembered how he had fallen in love with Erina somewhere across those verdant moors in the springtime of his life, the visions occurred to him in only scattered reflections he had too infrequently had the strength to revisit. Even if he hadn’t the words to express it as a boy, he had loved her then and that feeling had never left his heart. He had longed for her since the moment she had left and he had never been able to escape the everlasting heartbreak he felt whenever the prospect of entertaining another lady was broached.
“Jonathan, I heard tell of your recent graduation! Archaeology, your father must be so proud!” Her perky voice trailed into casual conversation that Jonathan forced himself to hear over the scattered memories in his head. It would be far too soon for so weighty a declaration, she had only just come back into his life, and he knew nothing of what her life had been like in the years since she had traded England for India.
Jonathan swallowed thickly, remembering how the subject of his graduation had been sullied by Dio’s flight from their home. There had not been much acknowledgement since the ceremony in early December. At the time, Jonathan hadn’t paid it much mind, he had been too focused on his father’s health to worry about something that seemed comparatively trivial. But in the wake of his discovery of Dio’s whereabouts and his father’s immediate insistence on reconciliation, he couldn’t help but feel a pang of resentment cut through him. “Oh, yes, he is. I’m afraid my family has been rather too busy for me to enjoy the glow of graduation.” In truth, he had only just begun to give a thought to his future employment now with the assurance of Dio’s preserved humanity.
“How terrible, I think we should celebrate, then. It’s a terribly impressive achievement.” Carefully, she allowed her hand to run across Jonathan’s forearm.
“Erina… I have missed you over all these years… I have never once stopped thinking about you. I always… I always wished things could’ve been different.”
“JoJo…”
“I should have been braver then… I should have…” lightly, Erina pressed onto her tiptoes and with all the grace of an angel placed a featherlight kiss on Jonathan’s cheek. “Erina…!”
“I think it’s best for us to let the past be the past, we can focus on the future right in front of us.”
His hands clasped over hers, the slight tremble was not lost on her. “I think I would like that very much.”
“And JoJo, if it’s worth anything at all, I never once stopped thinking about you either.”
That was all that had to be said. The match had been struck and the flame rekindled. Jonathan took her in the cage of his strong arms and held her against his chest, so close that she could feel the pounding of his heart, loud and sturdy as it rattled through the hollows of his chest. “Erina, I—”
“Shh, don’t speak, there will be plenty of time for that later.”
He gazed into the swirling blue of her pale, cerulean eyes, held captive in a moment where reality ceased to exist altogether. So long had he written off any chance of ever finding love when the one who occupied his thoughts was halfway across the globe that he would never have been able to mistake the fullness in his heart for anything but the sheer adoration he felt for Erina. No longer holding to the cowardice he had felt in the wake of Dio’s wicked influence, he summoned the courage that then had lied dormant. “Erina, may I kiss you?”
“JoJo, of course you may.” With all the grace in his gentle soul, he gathered enough poise to trace his fingers along her jaw before tilting her chin and easing into a tender kiss and could not hide the bashfulness behind his summoned bravado. Her hand met his cheek in a feather-light caress. There was no ardency nor concupiscence behind the kiss they shared, but it held a far greater meaning as the world appeared to stop turning on its axis.
As so it was that a feeling of normalcy had returned to the Joestar family. Everything seemed to have fallen back into its proper place. After no more than a brief conversation with the police, any charges that may have been brought against Dio were abandoned, after all, with so little to go by save the testimony of one disreputable character, there was no reason to further any investigation and waste the precious time and resources of the officers involved. George began raking through his impressive repertoire of connections to seek out potential employment for his sons all the while preparations were made around the mansion for Dio’s spectacular return. But perhaps no greater change was felt in the warm acceptance of romance into Jonathan’s life as he and Erina explored the early days of love’s tender embrace.
Notes:
I had to give Jonathan and Erina their happiness as well; when I said at the beginning of this story that I think Dio deserves a happy ending, but I meant that all my Phantom Blood babies deserve a happy ending because Dio would think that his happy ending is triumph over the Joestars but the happy ending he actually needs is coming to term with all of his trauma and finding contentment in humanity. Bu really, they all deserve The Good Ending and we are taking the long and winding road there.
Make no mistake though, while Jonathan and Erina's relationship is important to the plot, it is never going to be the focus of this story because this is and always will be predominantly about Dio's relationship with the reader, but there will be mentions of Jonathan and Erina as we continue.Normally I pull these chapter titles from classic rock songs, but I just thought that this Noah Kahan song was so perfect for Jonathan and all of his conflicting emotions, especially the line "the death of my dog, the stretch of my skin, it's all washing over me, I'm angry again," so I made an exception.
RIP JoJo, you would have loved all of Noah Kahan's songs about his dead dog
RIP Dio, you would have loved all of Noah Kahan's songs about his sordid relationship with alcohol and issues with his dad
RIP Reader, you would have loved all of Noah Kahan's songs about his romantically codependent relationship with New EnglandSorry about missing posting last week, life stuff just seemed to get in the way and I didn't feel up to it and I don't want to publish something that is subpar solely for consistency's sake, but we're back.
While I don't think this chapter denotes the end of a proper arc, I do think that it marks a distinct change as we approach a significant change in locale in the coming chapters.
I won't lie to you guys, as the holidays approach, these updates might get a tiny bit less consistent. I hope to keep up weekly posts, or at the very least every other week, but I don't want to make too big of promises when I know that I am going to be busier than usual. I still love writing and sharing this with you guys, and that isn't going to change, but I don't want to disappoint anyone if I can't update every week.Anyway, as always thank you for reading and all the love you guys give this story.
Chapter 32: Monday Morning
Notes:
Random update because I have lost any semblance of a sense of time now that it's somehow December?
Sorry for the feminism... again, if it's any consolation, reader gets absolutely railed in this one
(See the end of the chapter for more notes.)
Chapter Text
For the entire rest of the weekend, you had been mulling over exactly what you were going to say to your boss as an excuse for time off. After Dio’s display at your lecture, you couldn’t help but carry a hefty feeling of chagrin over the weighty deceptions he had so recklessly made, knowing full well you would have to face the repercussions of any workplace gossip that may have resulted thereof.
Your neuroticism continued well after the matutinal light of Monday had begun to illuminate the firmament with its golden whispers. You found yourself seated at the table for breakfast, continuing to repeat a plethora of excuses to test which one seemed most appropriate. After you had already run through a litany of examples you deemed as plausible reasons for your extended absence, Dio only shook his head and informed you that you were a terrible liar. With a frustrated huff, you hurried through the rest of the morning’s tasks, never ceasing the nervous prattle of seemingly inexhaustible possibilities as you flitted around your flat.
Dio walked with you to work, keeping his arm secured firmly around your waist as an overtly protective measure while you continued to babble on and on through an Eulerian path of thought. Bouncing between different ideas, none of which really measured up into a fully formed concept that could be used as a viable excuse.
“What if I said I had to go back to America for a family event?”
“I would tell you that you would never be able to keep your story straight.”
“See, I could say that I have to go back for my sister’s wedding because I’m in the bridal party and that I’m only staying for the wedding and then coming right back,” you explained with an amused smile in accompaniment, thinking your story was very clever and at least plausible.
“Do you have a sister?”
“No…”
“Then I reiterate, you would never be able to keep your story straight.”
“Hey listen here, I am not a bad liar. I have been lying about my past for more than two years and I have been just fine.”
“Well, if you’re so successful then how did I happen to find out your little secret in less than two weeks?” He looked down at you with narrowed, knowing eyes and a contemptible smirk.
“That’s because you were snooping around in my stuff! Rude, by the way.” You turned and looked at him and put on a deeply stern expression that did not look nearly as threatening on your sweet face compared to the truly bestial looks you knew him capable of summoning when he had been incensed.
“Oh, do you now intend to punish me for my insolence?” He feigned offense but his tone sounded damn eager.
“Hmph, maybe I will.”
“In that case, I will be looking forward to my punishment tonight.” He spun you around and endeavored to kiss you with such commanding seduction that you felt your heart race and cheeks flush, knowing full well your place of employment was in view.
“Dio!” You squealed, capable of little else after the abruptness of his action.
“Mine.” He whispered gruffly into your ear with a devious sensuality dripping like honey off his tongue.
“If things go well today, I’ll be yours all night; as many times as you want, however you want it.”
“Now my dear, that is a satisfactory suggestion,” he purred as he allowed his hands to wander over your body with deliberate, obvious caresses that, under less stressful circumstances would have been enough to unravel you into an inelegant mess of ribbons. “But you needn’t worry over something so perfunctory. There should be no reason for your boss to deny your request.”
“I suppose, but I’ve never asked for time off before.”
“Never, not once in two years?”
“Dio… I need you to understand, I’m a woman…”
“Yes, I am in fact aware. Your point?”
“And… you can surely tell that women are treated differently.” You held onto his hands emphatically in the hopes of expressing nothing but the utmost sincerity, “in my time it’s… better, at least to an extent, but here I have to work twice as hard as any man for even the hope of getting the same respect and I do because I really like what I do and I am so grateful for everything I’ve accomplished, but I don’t ever want to jeopardize the position that I am in.”
His face contorted into a frustrated grimace, “you do not need to be quite so concerned, you are incredibly bright and wonderfully skilled, that much is apparent; any establishment in your profession could be so lucky as to have you, man or woman, you would be brilliant as you are.”
“Thank you, but it’s not that simple. For centuries men have seen women as a thing to be conquered and to conquer for, not something to be understood as an equal. I am only as successful as I am because I work as much as I do and I know there are a host of people who find my station improper and would jump at the opportunity to usurp my position. That’s why I continue to work so hard.”
“To your own detriment at times," he said with a terseness that seemed more an admonishment than anything when compared to the compliments he had previously granted you.
The conversation came to a grinding halt and the two of you stood briefly in silence before you endeavored to bring a bit of levity between you both. “Well, there was one time.”
“One time what?”
“That I missed work, last winter, there was a day that I came to work with a fever of 102 and they had to send me home on bed rest, but other than that…” you rubbed your arm awkwardly, remembering how embarrassing it was when you had to be assisted the entire way home by a less than enthused colleague.
“That seems… extreme, you will no longer be doing that,” he scolded firmly without a trace of humor in his tone despite his more lighthearted choice of words.
“Oh, that’s 102 Fahrenheit, not Celsius. let’s see what would that be in celsius; the conversion is (T-32)(5/9). And, 102-32=70 so that would be 70*(5/9), which is like 35/9, and 9 goes into 35 three times, but almost four because 36/9=4, so just under 40 degrees Celsius, 39 and some change or thereabouts?”
“You’re rambling.”
“I most certainly am not, I am practicing my mental math, I need to stay on top of these things. Do you know how much harder it is to evaluate second-order differential equations without the convenience of a calculator?” You said, punctuating your statement with a hand on your hip for emphasis.
“Rambling. Or stalling?”
“Well, maybe a little bit of both… I just have no idea what I’m going to say.”
“As I thought. Would you like me to take care of it for you? I could say that I, your husband, have requested that you accompany me to my family’s estate for a private event.”
“As much as I would like that, I can’t imagine how pathetic it would look if I had my ‘husband’ come in to fight my battles.”
“I would have expected nothing less,” he patted your head with a little chuckle reverberating against his slightly parted lips. “Then you’d do well to remember that any good lie contains a hint of truth.”
“I thought you didn’t want me to lie.”
“Not at all, I simply don’t want you to get caught. That is why I don’t want you inventing a fanciful story you won’t be able to remember. Keep it simple.”
All you could muster in response was a roll of your eyes as his fingers coiled around your arm, casting a devious expression your way before leaning down to kiss your head and seeing you off for work.
You shuffled inside and quickly settled yourself in to begin the tasks demanded by the week again by turning over the scattered reports from the previous week that had been left untidy from your early departure the Friday before. Once everything was orderly, you turned your attention to a different set of research and began painstakingly sorting through your collection of notes after having resolved to approach your boss in the afternoon. Figuring he would be in a better mood as the day got on as opposed to first thing in the morning. This would give you enough time to settle on an exact excuse you’d give. But all your planning was for nought. The moment your boss arrived he gestured for you to follow him to his office.
He held the door to you and, upon entering, freed himself of his hat and coat. You sat in the chair across from his desk as he made himself ready. “I have excellent news for you, I think you’re going to be excited.” He began before he’d even taken a seat at his desk.
“Oh, do tell!”
“The department at Hugh Hudson was so impressed with your lecture that they have already requested another, sooner than anticipated too.”
“Really, how soon?” You summoned an enthusiastic smile but your voice vacillated into nervous apprehension that was all too evident in the way you dragged out the question with a sharp increase in pitch.
“The first Friday of March. If this goes well, they would like to make this a monthly endeavor. Normally we would only go once or twice a semester, but I have been told that they’re eager for more after the resounding success of Friday's lecture. Of course, it will take more work, but you’ve always been ambitious, I should say it won’t be much trouble for you. This would, of course, not come without proper compensation.”
“Oh… that’s great!” You attempted to muster excitement, but you could tell that your tone had fallen flat. After the amount of work you already had, you were dreading more. But what else could you do but agree? “Of course, I would be happy to, it won’t be a problem at all.”
“Excellent, I’ll have a telegram sent to the department head straight away.” He made a move to stand up and see you out, but you remained in your seat, summoning all your courage for this one moment.
“Wait, sir!” Your voice came out in a strained chirp from the urgency to be rid of the looming task that had consternated you the whole of the morning.
“Oh, is something the matter?”
“I-I have a favor I need to ask of you. A request, if you will.”
“Well then, go on.” He leaned back into his seat with a subtle sternness in his glance.
“I-I need next week off!” You spat out the words in an unceremonious squeal and immediately averted your eyes, feeling somewhat silly for your unease but no less naked for putting your request out in the open.
“And for what reason?”
“So, you met my… husband. At the lecture,” you began, struggling to swallow the lump in your throat amidst the acrid taste of the easily disprovable lie that coated your tongue.
“Yes, of course, charming fellow indeed.”
“Well his father is hosting an event at the family estate next week, and well, we’ve been asked to assist in some of the preparations. And so, I was wondering if my absence here could be excused next week as I will be away?” You asked nervously, writing the hem of your sweater in your hands to soothe your discomposure.
“Certainly.” He answered without even a moment more of consideration.
“Really? I mean, are you sure?”
“Of course, your family is just as important as your work. All I ask is that you try to stay on top of your lecture notes to the best of your ability. We wouldn’t want you falling behind.”
“Oh… will do… thank you, sir.”
“By the way, I don’t believe I properly congratulated you on your marriage. Not a single one of us had any idea.”
“Thank you, sir. It’s only been since December…” you stuttered apprehensively, Dio’s words about convincing lies fluttered back into your mind. Of course, he had been the one that had woven such deceits of his own accord, and naturally, anything that fell from his lips seemed to hold the utmost sincerity within its beautiful tonality, no matter how ugly a falsehood it may be.
“Oh I see, it is indeed quite recent! How wonderful, I wish you all the happiness in the world. You make an incredibly handsome couple. And to have won the favor of a family held in such high esteem— I must say, there is a good deal more to you than meets the eye.”
“Th-thank you.”
“Forgive me, I’d assumed you’d be asking for time off for a honeymoon.”
“Oh, no, no…” you flushed, feeling even more embarrassed by the implications.
“Because you could. You should. You would be entitled to that.”
“Oh, well, we haven’t really discussed it yet… maybe in the summertime… maybe France, I have always wanted to go.” You lost yourself in pretty romantic fantasies, thinking for once that it would be lovely to have a normal life with a companion, but quickly pulled back before you endeavored to say anything further, lest you be held to any lies you wouldn’t remember.
“Why, you must. France is lovely in the summertime, Paris especially. I met my lovely wife in Paris many years ago.”
“That sounds incredibly romantic!”
“Oh, I still remember it with great fondness in my mind. My parents were furious when I came home married without telling them. Almost as furious as when I told them I was devoting my life to the sciences.”
“Now that is something I can relate to,” you laughed, feeling at ease at last in your more sincere expression.
You worked steadily through the rest of the day, feeling a great weight had been lifted off your shoulders. Perhaps a bit irked that Dio had once again been right. He’d certainly have some pompous iteration of an ‘I told you so’ waiting for you at home. Hopefully, the gloating would be kept to a minimum in favor of other, more desirable activities you were looking forward to engaging him in. You and your coworkers finished gathering the materials for this week’s experiments. By the time everything had been properly set up and the correct reports were drawn up, it had already grown late into the evening.
You collected your things quickly and set out on your commute home. Only marginally disappointed that Dio hadn’t been there to greet you as he had on Friday. Your anticipation grew as the sound of your shoes clicking against the cobblestone streets echoed in the darkened streets. When you reached your flat, you could see the windows aglow with a warm light. You briefly relished in the comfort of coming home to someone you loved. You thought how, while you always adored your flat and the safety and independence it provided you, in the years you’d lived there alone, it had never been a proper home until you welcomed Dio into it. In spite of all of his bad, you were privy to all the good parts of him. The parts you had been so painstakingly nurturing in the short time you’d known him, the same parts you had seen bloom so magnificently in the way he had gotten on with his brother, and for all of that you were proud and grateful and you loved him for it.
Before you could open the door yourself, Dio had done so, leading you inside with an unexpected tenderness. You fell into his arms immediately, overcome by the strong desire to simply be close to him. “Another long day?” He asked sympathetically, taking your hair out of the rather messy French twist you had attempted that morning.
“Too long,” you whined, nuzzling into his arms in search of the tremendous comfort you were only ever able to find in the solid frame of his muscular physique, “my boss told me the lecture was received well.”
“Of course it was, you were marvelous. I was particularly fond of the part when—”
“Ahem, it was so well received that they want to hold them more regularly, once a month it seems like.”
“Oh, and are you alright with that?” A sudden trepidation filled him, remembering how horribly stressed you had been the month prior. He’d been hoping your work would slow down and you could fall into a relaxed routine. The prospect of seeing you strung out with exhaustion was not appealing. In a backwards sort of way, he was grateful Jonathan had insisted that you accompany him on his return to the Joestar mansion so you could spend the week in much-needed leisure.
“I’ll have to be,” you shrugged, perhaps even more indifferent than you had been that morning. In seeing your lack of enthusiasm Dio was only made even more apprehensive about your latest undertaking.
He held both of your shoulders with a stern but gentle grip, his eyes scrutinized your face as if trying to coax a better response from you. “Do not overwork yourself. You need to take care of yourself too.”
“I-I know, I’m still adjusting to this new schedule. I’ll be okay, I don’t mind being busy.”
He nodded, continuing to comb his fingers through the soft strands of your hair, but the doleful expression on his face made it clear that he had a hard time believing that to be the case. “I expect everything else went as planned today, then?”
You sighed a bit thoughtlessly, “yes, everything was approved without any issue.”
His frown twisted into a playful smirk and his hands wandered out of your hair and down to your lower back. “See, I told you—”
You stopped him with an almost roguish peck on his lips. “Don’t ruin the moment.”
“Aw, is my little darling in need of something?” He asked, in mock earnest and coaxed your body further into his arms. You secured your arms firmly around his waist. He gave a smooth, low hum in approval for your submissiveness. Still hoping for a swift progression towards carnal indulgence, you rested your head on his chest and gave a feeble little nod. “Oh, would my darling care to tell me what she needs?”
You tightened your grip around him, not even attempting to look up at him in your diffidence. “You know what I need…” you said, words muffled by the fabric of his shirt.
“But my dear, you have not told me yet. Are you expecting me to read your mind?”
Your face simmered, half embarrassed, half frustrated that he was so keen on teasing you when you knew damn well that he knew exactly what you wanted. “I need… you,” you whispered meekly.
He chuckled coolly into your hair as his hands gingerly massaged your hips. “And you will have me,” he whispered in that velvety, confident tone that made your heart skip a beat. You leaned up to delicately kiss the line of his jaw before he pulled you into a drawn out kiss that only solidified his hunger for you. The friction of your clothed bodies against one another only served to further build the tension that boiled within you. “After you have had a proper meal,” he insisted, breaking her kiss and leaving you standing alone and bewildered as he slinked off to the kitchen to get dinner ready with a teasing grin covering his face all the while.
“Oh, must you be so cruel?!” You snapped, chasing after him. You made a flimsy attempt to grab his shirt, only slightly skewing the garment from the way it had been so modestly tucked into his pants.
Immediately he caught you and twirled you into his arms. He sat you on the counter in one fluid motion, parting your legs so he could stand between them. “I’m cruel for wanting to keep you well-fed?”
“No… you’re cruel for teasing me!”
He traced his finger along your inner thigh, forming an arduous pattern of swirling lines that left heat burning even through the thick fabric of your trousers. “Oh, here I thought you loved being toyed with.”
You ineffectually attempted to concoct a response, but your mouth only formed errant sighs, giving way to your inevitable acquiescence. Dio helped you down from the counter, the way his hand languidly dragged across your waist served as an assurance that he would give you everything you wanted and more when he was ready. He helped you to the table and served the meal he had cooked to both of you. Privately, he adored doting on you in this way. Relishing the simple pleasantries that life with you had provided him. All of these moments of closeness he held in high regard as an intimacy that was akin to sex and equally as important. In the wake of the realization that the privacy he so enjoyed with you would rapidly be coming to an end with his return to the Joestar mansion, he fully intended to make the most of what little time he had left. Even as the two of you shifted against each other in the mundane task of cleaning dishes, he thought just how unfortunate it would be to lose it all. In spite of everything that led up to the moment of your chance encounter, he had never been happier in all his life.
He placed his hand firmly against your back and steered you towards the bedroom, “now, my darling little sprite, are you ready for your patience to be rewarded?”
The door was pressed shut with a soft, wooden thud. Dio let hands trace down the sides of your body, finally settling them on the top of your pants where he promptly untucked your shirt. The rise and fall of your chest became more rapid as he began undoing each button with painstaking precision. He allowed the garment to fall and admired your sheer, unlined bra that did little to conceal your hardened nipples. Quite scandalous,” he whispered before delicately cupping one of your breasts in his hand in an action that felt inexplicably loving in juxtaposition to his admonishing tone. He continued dragging his thumb arduously against the tender bud which, on its own, was enough to cause a shudder to run through your entire body. The pressure of his touch and the friction of the fabric combined to offer greater sensation, but any more thoroughly gratifying feelings were still apprehended by the way his towering figure held you in place. You gave a lewd moan as you began to fumble with his belt. The mechanism, which was already difficult to deal with at the unforgiving angle, proved an even greater challenge when he tucked his knee between your legs. Immediately and unthinkingly you began to grind against him. He clicked his tongue tersely at your desperation, but undid his belt anyway, seeing as there was no reason to deny you any longer.
Your hands immediately reached for his pants, silently surveying the best way to rid him of them. With strength that was heightened by your urgency, you tugged at the top button until it gave way, and the rest followed suit in one effortless motion. Your hand dipped below his waistband in a brazen attempt to free him.
He chuckled at your efforts, then gave a small gesture for you to lift your arms up as he pulled your diaphanous bra over your head. Once you were completely exposed before him, he took a moment to appreciate the way your bare breasts swayed in rhythm with your labored breaths. He then skillfully unfastened your pants and pulled them down to your knees with a forceful push. He noted your modest white cotton panties, already dampened by your arousal. He kneaded your sex through the sodden fabric to which you let out a sharp, whiny groan. Satisfied by what a needy mess you’d become, he quickly undid his shirt’s buttons before removing it completely while you stepped fully out of your pants.
In an instant he threw himself onto the bed, pulling you by the arm on top of him so that you could straddle him. From that position, you felt the fullness of erection rubbing against your inner thigh as you mindlessly ground against him.
An arm snaked around your waist for support as he slid your panties to the side and teased his finger along your needy cunt. The sudden gratification of what you’d been longing for caused your head to buzz like radio static. You were certain you would have fallen back onto the bed if Dio’s strong arm hadn’t been supporting you. The interruption lasted only a moment and you were quickly brought back to earth when you felt another of his long fingers stretching you. In desperation, you clenched around him which only seemed to enliven him further as his knuckle-deep fingers curled inside of you, rubbing against your most tender spot that left your hips immediately jittering in anticipation for more, but despite all your wants his movements had been stifled by the cage of your panties. “Dio—” you groaned, hoping your lascivious plea would yield a more fulfilling result, but instead you felt the unsatisfying sensation of his fingers slipping out of you.
Without warning, he pulled you in for a rough kiss as his hands trailed over your body, the change in position offered you greater leverage to rut against him. He slipped his fingers under the hem of your panties and slowly rolled them off of you before inevitably casting them listlessly to the floor. Free of any impedance, your hips began bucking against him with greater haste as you straddled his waist. Frustrated by the amount of clothes he hadn’t yet removed, you spun around and shoved his pants down his legs with an abrupt intensity that took his underwear with it. He hummed in complete validation of your eagerness and for the excellent view of your slick folds that your new position afforded him, he couldn’t help but trail one long, deft finger along the entire length of your throbbing pussy. The meager sensation sent a shiver down your spine and, much to his delight, your back arched instinctively and displayed to him the entirety of your sex. With his hunger only amplified by such an alluring sight, he gave your ass a forceful squeeze and obliged you by kicking off the hindering garments and signaling for you to face him.
You repositioned yourself over him and rocked your hips against him just enough to coat his hardened length in your sticky arousal. Just as you prepared yourself to sink down on him he abruptly jerked you forward and positioned you so that your dripping cunt hovered just over his face. He took a moment to appreciate your pussy from that angle and spread the delicate folds just enough to look upon your wet entrance that pulsed desperately from lack of stimulation. “Dio, you don’t have to, you know. I’m ready for you.”
“I want to,” he insisted and guided your hips down onto his face, a husky groan escaped him the moment the heady taste of you filled his mouth. You remained on your knees, holding yourself up so as to not put too much weight on him, but he roughly pulled you down further. Your legs were spread wider as your body was bent to the whims of the generous strokes of his tongue against you. It was clear that he fully intended to award you with all the pleasures his mouth could offer you.
Your head fell back in pleasure as he ate you with erratic and zealous fervor. Each flick of his tongue threatened to undo you. In an ungainly motion, you reached for the headboard in the dire need to steady yourself. Clinging to it with a white-knuckle grip as a rush of electricity flowed through your body. “Fuck, that’s so good!” You cried, an indecorous hitch in your breath stifling all other words with nothing but pure, unmitigated lust left in its place. Your hips rolled spastically into his face, leaving you dreadfully close to orgasm. So hectic had your movements become that Dio had to grab one of your thighs to hold you into place.
You had half expected Dio to abruptly switch tactics, leaving you gasping and frenzied, overcome by unbridled desire as you attempted to adjust to the new pace he’d set, only for him to build you back up to the brink before snatching the satisfaction away again maliciously. A play that was sure to leave you a delirious mess once he had finally ordained you the privilege of cumming.
But on this occasion, he did not. Instead, he maintained the smooth, steady pace that he knew was driving you wild. His tongue swirled over your clit smoothly and regularly, that alone may have been enough to bring you to your peak, but when he began to suck on your clit, the pressure became insurmountable and was instantly enough to send you over the edge. Your orgasm crashed over you with a shocking intensity as a flurry of curses and cries spilled from your mouth. Dio steadied your hips to a more regulated pace as you rode out your orgasm. His tongue brushed along your cunt to drink in every last drop of the sweet ichor that spilled from you.
The satisfaction washed over you like a white-hot flame as you pulled away from him, he held you back, just inches from him and gazed up at you with the type of romantic longing you rarely saw from him during sex; fiery passion, desperate hunger, smoldering desire, yes all of those were common. But that particular type of tender yearning was an exceptional rarity. Not to say he didn’t always make you feel loved, he certainly took care to make sure you knew this fact through words and actions both during and after sex. But something in his expression indicated that whatever else he planned on doing tonight, he was going to worship your body as though it were something holy.
“W-what?” You breathed, still trying to come down from your peak and feeling somewhat exposed in the wake of the brutal intensity of your orgasm.
“Hmm, I’m simply enjoying the view. Am I not allowed to ogle my beautiful girl?” He asked, defiantly arrogant as he stared up at you with his eyes glazed over in adoration, looking almost as though he were the one that had just cum. His lips shined, covered with the residue of your pleasure like a gloss and the rest of his face was not any less messy.
His tongue licked the area around his mouth in a slow, sensual manner as he savored the last remnants of your juices. The sight alone caused your walls to clench around nothing and you became immediately desirous to have him inside you, “I-I-I suppose you are,” you stammered, face flushed a rosy shade of pink.
Only then did you notice that he’d been touching himself all the while. The tip of his cock glistened with ample streams of translucent precum as he gave himself firm, liberal strokes. A dry grunt slipped from his mouth as he watched you reposition yourself to allow yourself a sufficient taste of him. Your tongue rolled over the swollen head, letting the salty taste of him fill your mouth. His hips bucked involuntarily, forcing himself deeper into your mouth. Your tongue cradled the head of his cock as you bobbed your head eagerly in the hopes that you may bestow unto him a fraction of the pleasure you had just been awarded.
Your actions elicited a myriad of lustful groans from your lover as his fingers entangled messily in your hair. He attempted to control himself as his hips thrust shallowly into your mouth, but he soon realized that he wanted to fuck your throat just as much as he wanted to fuck your pussy.
With a forceful snap of his hips, he pushed your head down to meet him. He watched as you desperately tried to take as much of his as could possibly fit in your mouth, his size causing your cheeks to hollow and beads of tears to form in the corners of your eyes while you accepted him. He shut his eyes, nearly getting lost in the temptation of your sultry mouth, but with a hesitant growl, he unceremoniously pulled you off of him and glowered down at you with gilt eyes and oozed a fiery sensuality that cast a spell on you that was so strong that you were not in need of any orders to immediately clamber back on top of him.
Your entire body trembled in anticipation as you began to sink down on him, inch by beautiful inch your plush walls spread around him. His hands guided you at a tender pace that allowed you to adjust to his size. The tension in your core built sharply the more you were able to take until you were impossibly full in the unforgiving position atop him. With a gentle urging, you felt one of his hands ghost over your back to help you set a comfortable rhythm for your mutual benefit.
He marveled at you from his point of view, you were, as he often was reminded when held within the beguiling ecstasy of lovemaking, inexplicably and absolutely gorgeous. His eyes became transfixed on the point where your two bodies connected. He was always brought to a state of wonderment when he saw how your tiny figure was able to take the enormity of his length in its entirety. Still more amazed by how perfectly your body had fit him, as though your bodies were merely puzzle pieces, destined to match each other exactly when met at just the right angle. Even raking through his mind, he knew there was no one else who could even come close to matching the euphoric bliss that it was to be so intimately entwined with you.
Briefly, he lay there admiring the way you focused so diligently on keeping your hips steady so he could enjoy the feeling of each deliberate stroke. And, in seeing your valiant effort, he indulged you for some moments longer, but he thought he liked you better when you were erratically spasming in his lap whilst you unintelligibly chanted his name like a kind of divine invocation. So he determined to make his preferential fantasy a reality, he lifted the thumb of his free hand to his lips and dragged his tongue hastily across it. With a mischievous grin, he brought the digit to your clit and began drawing soft, rhythmic circles over the tender bud. “Oh god, Dio!” You screamed as your head fell back in pleasure in response to the tiny shocks of electricity that coursed through your body, it took a tremendous amount of effort to even try and maintain some kind of order to the new disorderly way your hips slammed into his. With his large hand pressed firmly against your back, he offered you enough support to not fall back, but not enough to contain the irregularities of your clumsy movements.
Your body writhed against his hand greedily. And at that moment, he was more than happy to oblige all your wants. His pace became more rapid as his digit swirled more firmly over you. You could feel him subtly rocking up into you now that he’d begun to chase his own release. “Oh my god! Fuck— Dio, that’s… god, I’m going to…” the sighs that escaped your lips in the wake of your second orgasm were nothing short of music to him. If drawing these sweet chimes from you was a pleasure awarded only to him, he was going to make damn sure you knew what a privilege it was.
Without a warning, you lurched forward. Falling with your hands at either side of his head as if he were caged beneath you. This new position offered you more leverage. Hazy and almost hysterical with pleasure, you crashed your lips against his in a hungry kiss. The new sensation was more than welcoming. You felt him hum against your lips as you continued to drown in the kiss.
His hips thrust up to meet yours in a more fluid, intentional rhythm. The tension within you began to build again with his continual efforts against your clit despite the constraint of the newfound closeness. The movements of your jittering hips were only slightly dampened by the steadying of his hand. You broke the kiss in a desperate attempt to catch your breath. Your eyes met his; they glinted a warm honey, full of only love for you as he drove your hips down onto him more firmly. You let out a squeaky moan, your body felt as though it was on fire as the tension pulled tighter in your core. You pressed your forehead to his so you could settle yourself. “You are absolutely stunning, my dear. So beautiful,” he purred as he ran his hand gently along your back. “I love you.”
You mewled, all the movements of your hips had become utterly useless. If not for Dio’s strong hand guiding you, you would’ve been little more than a limp doll.
“And you love me too, don’t you, my darling?”
“Yes!” You squealed, almost incapable of forming words as you threw your arms around his neck, “I love you, Dio, I love you more than anything!”
He grunted approvingly. His pace became rougher as he thrust into you with greater need. “That’s my good girl.”
His praises were enough to drive you wild, landing you right back in the midst of all your amorous desires. He felt you tighten around him again, making it harder for him to maneuver your body. Your arms clung around him desperately as his name spilled from your mouth in frantic whimpers as he repeatedly hit that specific spot that made your mind go completely blank. “Dio, I’m-oh!” No longer even able to remember precisely how many times you’d cum, your body went lax against his, unable to move at all in your entirely fucked out state.
He wrapped both his arms tightly around you, dotting a few kisses along your neck as he approached his own orgasm. “Oh, such a precious thing,” he said through a breathy moan, his hands still petting your skin. You tried your hardest to roll your hips into his, but your body wouldn’t let you. Though you couldn’t see it, he grinned, proud he rendered you such a state. Enjoying the feeling of all your comparatively meager body weight pressing down on him as he fucked you fully and thoroughly.
He firmly locked your hips against his, fucking deeply into you with an almost directionless drive as his persistency ramped up exponentially, felt in the bubbling heat contained within his pelvis and the tension that suffused throughout his thighs. You softly moaned against him, which provided him just motivation to finally bring himself over the edge. Finally cumming into you after a series of ragged moans that were only interrupted by his praises of you.
You wordlessly remained in his arms, enveloped in the afterglow. His hands adoringly traced over your body, sending a wave of chills through you. He lifted you off of him, to which you gave a little groan when the connection was lost.
You instinctively snuggled beside him, still feeling the electricity surging through your body. Comforted by the loving weight of his arms and the warmth of the comforter draped over your bodies. “Dio…” you began in an airy whisper of a voice that had still not fully regained composure enough to carry a conversation, “that was perfect… you were perfect.”
“Anything for my beloved little creature.”
You hummed in satisfaction as you cuddled closer to his body which always seemed to envelop yours entirely when he held you in such a way, “aren’t I lucky,” you said with a bit of cheek, though the statement was wholly accurate. You loved Dio more than you could ever put into words, even the finest of romantic novels could never come close to capturing how you felt in its entirety.
“I mean it, I would do anything for you.” His lips brushed against your shoulders and trailed aimlessly over to your neck where he contentedly buried his face, paying no mind to the goosebumps his actions had left your body adorned with. And though he spoke no more as you drifted off into sleep, his mind remained alive with a myriad of thoughts for the week ahead. Normally he would look forward to the end of the week with the utmost excitement, but with his return home looming just on the cusp, he only felt overbearing trepidation which he felt must’ve been glaringly obvious in his demeanor. His willingness to return was enough of an example of his devotion to you. For no other would he bear such a great burden. It was only for you and the promise that awaited a more hopeful future you could share in. Everything he knew he would have to face, it was all for you.
Notes:
I know some chapters ago when we first got a look into readers working habits, you guys were worried that she was being given extra work by some specifically and... you guys are pretty much right; I mean, it's not one malicious person going after her but a deeply misogynistic culture in general. Some of her beliefs are of course, self-imposed out of the anxiety that she might lose everything she's worked for, but naturally, her fears aren't entirely unfounded. My boyfriend always teases me about how I brought a STEM-girly back in time to the precipice of some of the greatest scientific discoveries the world has ever known, and instead of making her use her knowledge to take all of that glory for herself and win a Nobel Prize or something, I've chosen to writer about her getting railed by a large blond man. She has her priorities; I know that if it were me and it came down to discovering relativity or getting Dio dick... nvm
Let's be real, canon Dio is low-key a little sexist; I mean he can't wholly help the culture he grew up in, but the comment in part 5 about him only viewing women as tools and meals... (I mean, truly, did he view men as much more either? I more than anything saw himself as above the humanity he relinquished) But I think if he'd gotten his hands on one (1) piece of feminist literature, his worldview would have been altered (I am delusional by the way), I think do he would enjoy reading Simone de Beauvoir.
I threw the mental math thing in to be funny to me and me only, though in my research I wasn't able to determine what the standard unit of temperature would have been in Victorian England; as far as I could tell there wasn't really a standard? Scientist just kind of used whatever and then converted? But I always think it's funny that Americans deliberately use different units of measurement just for the hell of it; though at the time there is decent likelihood that England still used Imperial units since the metric system wasn't explicitly standard. I still think its funny and I know my silly little expat definitely makes fun of her big scary Englishman despite them both living in England.
I know that we've all loved the domestic joy of these two in reader's flat, but we are quickly approaching the trip to the Joestar's, Dio's still gotta face up to the wreckage he left and he needs his sweet girl to be there with him.
I love making him love her so much, but I also love making him worry about her >_>
Chapter 33: Come on Up to the House
Notes:
Alright, I have agonized over this chapter enough, I NEED to post it.
The inevitable trip to the Joestar mansion is upon us, I have very many things planned.
(See the end of the chapter for more notes.)
Chapter Text
You breezed through your week, between getting ready for your trip to the Joestar Mansion and making sure to get ahead on your work, you were kept constantly busy. Early mornings and even later nights had become the norm as you struggled to make up for the inconvenience your absence would cause by creating a foolproof set of instructions to accompany each project your name was attached to, for as much as you considered Dio a priority, your responsibilities were still yours to bear and you could not afford to fall behind. The additional preparations at work compounded with the seemingly infinite task of packing, you were feeling spread thinner than you ever had before.
In the years you spent living in England, in the 19th century for that matter. You had never stayed over at another person’s home. Let alone at the home of someone from society. You felt that all your clothes may seem a bit inadequate in such a place. Obviously, your usual work attire of canvas shirts and trousers would certainly be improper, but even the majority of your dresses seemed dowdy and ill-suited for expressing the effortless elegance you intended to portray. By Friday your house was messier than it had been in ages, with seemingly every piece of clothing you owned having been laid out on some surface as you painstakingly attempted to pack enough proper clothes for the week-long stay.
You stood looking over several dresses laid across the couch, the setup had prevented Dio from settling into his usual spot with his book of choice. So instead, he stood behind you, the casual annoyance over the mess had drifted into endearment over your intense concentration. “The pink one, the green one, and… that white one over there. Now then, I believe we’re done.”
“The white one is entirely too short!”
“Oh, I thought that could be a special treat for when we’re alone,” he smirked, running a treacherous hand along your side and brushing his lips ever so lightly against the back of your neck.
“Come on, you know I need to make a good impression. I want your father to like me.”
“There’s no way he couldn’t.” He spun you around to face him, closing the gap between you with a most welcomed kiss. “And do mind that we are not going there for you to be interviewed. This errand is for me to ask forgiveness for my transgressions. I believe my most darling little sprite taught me a thing or two about that. This meeting will have no bearing on you, and as such you should not fret.”
“And I’m very proud of you for that. All the same, I want to do everything I can to show him I only have the noblest of intentions with you,” you said and gave him a little kiss on his cheek as if to prove that you were indeed capable of conjuring a modicum of chastity if the situation demanded it.
“Is that really true though?” He asked, cocking his head with a look of puzzlement that quickly twisted into a more devious smirk that clued you in on his salacious intentions. Before you could make another move, one hand had firmly grabbed your hip while the other held onto your opposite shoulder to keep you locked in place. “Nearly every surface in this house would say otherwise.”
“Don’t act like you weren’t the instigator in most of those little trysts.” You tilted your head to look at him, jokingly poking his chest before succumbing under the weight of your true concern. “I just want him to approve of us.”
Dio drew you into his arms and softly rubbed his hand down the length of your back, “that is not for you to worry about.”
“But Dio, I don’t want to be the cause of any further tension, I know I am probably not the ideal match your father would have wanted for you.”
“Stop, Father will love you. He will love you because I love you and I will make sure that he knows all that you’ve done for me.” He pressed his lips to yours only briefly, but it was enough to assuage some of the worries that addled your mind.
“Fine, I’ll bring it. But only if I have enough room.”
You heard that characteristically mischievous chuckle that you’d come to adore as Dio allowed his hands to wander down your body. “Now, you ought to clean all of this up before we leave.”
“Fine,” you grumbled, setting aside the dresses he’d selected and gathering up the various garments you’d decided to leave behind into your arms and carrying them away. You perhaps had not done an optimal job of organizing your wardrobe, but you figured the matter was best left to be attended to upon your return the following week instead of at that moment, what you needed most before your journey was a good deal of rest.
Once the living room had been cleared of most of the mess you threw yourself onto the couch for a needed rest while Dio turned all of his focus to his newly acquired copy of Madame Bovary that had been demanding his attention over the last several days. “Must you always read such depressing books?” You asked as your fingers traced the folded pages of yesterday’s newspaper that had been left unread on the coffee table for when you were able to find a free moment.
“My dear, I thought you enjoyed such tragedies,” he remarked coolly, not even granting you a cursory glance, lest you find an excuse to distract him, something which he had come to learn you had an unrelenting proclivity for.
“I do, but would it kill you to read something positive for a change?”
“Perhaps it would.”
“Fine. Mark your calendar, in ten years I’m buying you Chopin’s The Awakening. If you like tragic endings, you’ll be sure to love it.”
“Hm, then mind you, I will not forget this promise.”
“Duly noted,” you sighed, only able to respond with a weary shake of your head, his shameless charm was as tiresome as it was alluring. In lieu of attempting to engage in a fruitless discourse on his reading habits, you retired yourself to the newspaper. Amidst the collection of articles covering community events and other similar announcements, one in particular caught your attention. “Oh, look, Dio! We made it into the paper!” You cooed in excitement and handed him the paper. “They ran a story about my lecture! I feel so famous!”
“Congratulations.” He said, ruffling your hair affectionately.
“Did you see the picture?” You pointed eagerly to a candid shot of you standing among the group of important men you’d spoken to several nights ago, Dio diligently at your side with his hand resting against your back. “We look so cute!”
He looked at the photo, eyes never leaving the image of you in that dress. Fondly remembering the way it had been pooled up over your stomach only minutes before that must’ve been taken. Still, it was quite charming to have your relationship affirmed in print. This assured him that all the world would now know that you belonged entirely and unequivocally to him.
“When you’re done I’m going to cut it out and put it in my photo album!”
“It’s just a picture in the newspaper,” he said tersely, giving a slight shake of his head, in spite of his dismissal, he was utterly enamored by your cute ways. This very nature is what had enticed him in the first place.
“I know, but it’s the first picture I have of us, they’re not exactly easy to come by, you know?”
He petted your back with an endearing softness, that was the exact sweetness that made him fall for you in the first place. You got up and retrieved your photo album from the same spot it always occupied on your bookshelf as Dio finished scanning over the article. He watched as you dutifully cut out the picture and lined it up on a blank page before pasting it in. You scribbled a date and a sweet note underneath it accompanied by at least a dozen crudely drawn hearts. You smiled at the picture, now in its proper spot. A goofy expression covering your face.
“I believe we have to finish packing, dear. We’re leaving very early tomorrow.”
“What, how early?”
“A letter arrived this morning, Father will be sending the carriage at seven.”
“Seven in the morning? Why so dreadfully early?”
“It would appear that he is quite eager for our arrival and wants ample time for us to get settled.”
“But that’s less than twelve hours from now, we’re not going to have enough time to…”
“Hm, was my little darling hoping for a treat before we left?” His hand lightly ghosted over your thigh with poignant dexterity. You covered your mouth with your hand as you felt the heat rush to your cheeks. “What happened to those ‘noble intentions’?”
“I… I have to finish packing!” You squeaked and slipped away from him before he could work you up any further. Hastily, you hung any of your remaining clothing back in your armoire and packed your final selection of necessities into your suitcase you realized was too small to accommodate an entire week-long stay; perhaps it had been sufficient in the 21st century, but with so much thick, bulky fabric, you only just barely managed to get the zipper closed in owing to all of your creative methods of folding.
You had just set aside an outfit appropriate for travel tomorrow when Dio entered the bedroom and began getting himself ready for bed. You felt the air leave your chest as you ogled his undressed form, no matter how many times you were allowed to see him in such a state, whether in a routine, casual way or in the more amorous ways you so enjoyed, you were always left awestruck by his unimpeachable beauty and magnificently grateful that it was only yours to indulge, though as present, you were rather dispirited that you wouldn’t be able to indulge in him the way you’d hoped, possibly not until your return the following week, you allowed even the image of him to mollify your concerns.
Tired from the busy week, but slightly roused from the anxiety surrounding tomorrow’s events, you crawled into bed. Unabashed as you curled into his chest and entangled your legs with his. He hummed pleasantly, approving of your flagrant desperation, but only kissed you softly to ease you into sleep. In truth, his own anxieties had been much on his mind throughout the week. Having to face what he’d done. It seemed even more difficult knowing he would more than likely be forgiven and accepted back without hesitation, in spite of all the wickedness on his part.
In vain, he considered what life may be like with the Joestars, unfettered by his scheming. Family. It was such a foreign concept. His had been damaged beyond repair long before he had the perspective to attach any appreciable understanding to it beyond the prosaic platitudes that were spoken of in the sermons he had once heard in that little parish church as a child. The loss of his mother had not been the cause, but rather a permanent reminder that what was now broken beyond repair had always been fractured. Since then, he had never sought, nor cared for familial bonds. He severed the remaining ties upon the murder of his father. To him, the Joestars had never been a family, not a proper one at any rate. He had only been taken in because a favor was owed, not for any deeper bond, but the mere resolution of a duty. Nonetheless, he had come to callously accept the place that was offered and over the years the arrangement had benefited him greatly. Moreover, it was not as though he had been looking for kinship of any sort and even if he wanted it, he didn’t need it, especially not from the likes of the Joestars.
In reevaluating his life, Dio considered that perhaps George really had loved him as a son, as though he were truly a member of the family, but Dio had never entertained that notion before. They had been nothing more than a means to an end, a necessary sacrifice on his quest to attain his desires. Any actions that may have suggested otherwise had been part of a carefully orchestrated ruse, he had never had any inclinations of the sort. Now, he wasn’t so sure. A fresh start, a different perspective. Whatever he walked into the following morning, he knew it would be something entirely different from what it was before.
With you locked tightly within his arms, he thought, perhaps the idea of a family did not seem so foreign after all. As he drifted in and out of sleep, he thought of how different things would be if he could have a normal life with you. In his half-lucid state, he allowed his mind to further indulge in the decadent fantasy. Through the misty flashes of dreamlike visions, he could see himself coming home from work and you there to eagerly greet him at the door with welcoming displays of tender affection, beckoning him past the threshold for a home-cooked meal. He pulled you in for a deeper kiss, allowing his hands to wander over your body. God, he would’ve taken you right there on the table if he hadn’t noticed the presence of a third place setting and the curious pitter-patter of tiny footsteps behind you. Immediately you scooped the child up into your arms, for a brief moment he was taken aback by how natural you looked in such a maternal pose. He would’ve thought you would look horrendously out of place, and yet you seemed so lovingly earnest in a way that felt most familiar. Then you handed the child off to him with a pleased grin that only a mother could muster, only then did he notice the child to be the perfect amalgamation of your two features, your sparkling eyes and that same ebullient smile he adored so well, but wild tufts of golden hair that matched his own. He placed a tender kiss on the child’s head, earning him a pleased coo before he turned back to you, pulling you in for another loving, but considerably more appropriate kiss, placing his free hand on your stomach— fuck— that was much too far. He eased himself out of his mental wanderings with a discontented click of his tongue. How could he be fetishizing you as a damn housewife? You were so fiercely independent and worst of all, he liked that about you, in fact, it was one of the many things that had made you so desirable. He ran his fingers through his hair and calmed himself down. That was too much, he couldn’t allow himself to consider such things, but the idea of a family no longer seemed so alien to him, at least not with you. He sighed as he felt the weight of your body on his. Yes, under normal circumstances, perhaps a family might’ve even been nice.
The morning came swiftly with the pink halo of dawn breaking tentatively against the indigo sky. Sleep had not come easily for Dio, the thoughts continued to swirl through the night, but he was pleased to see that you had slept soundly. He grazed his thumb against your cheek until your eyelashes began to flutter.
“Mm, too early.” You groaned, curling your body up tightly against him.
“It’s time to get ready.” He said curtly, pulling away from you and getting out of bed.
“Well good morning to you, too,” you mumbled, stretching in an attempt to make yourself more alert.
Breakfast was simple and quick, without much care put into it in the haste to finish getting ready. You dressed in a well-fitting cambric blouse that tied neatly at the neck and a long tailored skirt in a soft mauve color. While you pinned your hair up, you watched from the corner of your eye as Dio dressed himself in a proper suit, complete with a vest and tie. An inadvertent sigh left your lips as you took in his well-dressed appearance. An action that did not go unnoticed. Dio chuckled, low and smooth, as he approached you from behind, placing both of his large hands on your shoulders and pressing a kiss into the skin just above your collar. “Dio!” You squealed, leaning your head back onto his chest.
“You look wonderful.” He tipped your chin up to meet his lips in a comparatively chaste kiss.
“And you look… wow, I mean… wow.”
That familiar look of smug self-importance etched itself on his face as he helped you regain steadiness on your feet. “We ought to be going,” he declared brusquely and gave a commanding gesture towards the front door.
Dio helped you into a long, tan travel coat with two rows of shiny metal buttons, and grabbed your suitcase. No sooner than you’d finished getting ready had the Joestar’s carriage arrived. You took a deep breath as Dio led you outside.
“Master Dio…” the driver nodded familiarly as you were helped inside. Dio exchanged a few words with the driver before taking a seat beside you. Your luggage has been stowed away neatly under the seat.
He draped his arm around you lightly, cradling you in heavy comfort as he let your head fall on his shoulder.
“Are you nervous?” You asked in an enervated voice and sleepily nuzzled yourself closer to his chest as if the warmth shared between your two bodies would offset the damp chill of the drafty carriage.
“Why would I, Dio, be nervous?” He phrased it as a question, but it was more a declaration than anything.
“It’s okay if you are,” you said reassuringly, “this is not an easy thing to do.”
“The matter is entirely inconsequential, I care little for the opinions of the Joestars.” He scoffed, running the back of his index finger over your somnolent face.
“I’m nervous,” you admitted in a timorous whisper, casting him a bashful look at him from your position in his arms.
“I can tell, your heart feels as though it would beat out of your chest.” He grazed his lips over your forehead with a lackadaisical effort at reassurance. “But you needn’t worry.”
Though you felt his reasons somewhat lacking, you accepted them for what they were in the hopes of a bit more rest as the carriage continued on into the moors of the English countryside. Quaint country homes gave way to the surrounding heathland which had grown twiggy and dull from the gnawing chill of winter’s frigid teeth. Quiet and picturesque was the entire view of the expansive open lands you’d hardly ever ventured to. Wild and natural, only occasionally perforated by the crenellated tops of some stony ruins that had once been formally great structures of a time long since past. It felt such a different atmosphere from the port town you called home. Lacking in the usual bustle you’d grown accustomed to, even if it were a far cry from even the quietest of days in the streets of a big city like London, compared to the unwavering serenity of the countryside, it seemed downright raucous. The wheels rattled and clanged on the uneven road as the carriage rounded the ridge and crossed over the weather-worn bridge, passing ever onward into the foggy countryside.
Suddenly, a large stone edifice fractured the eerie haze of the melancholy moors. It seemed to look over you with a lofty importance suggested not only in its impressive size but also in its lavish architecture, from the high-hipped roof to the mullioned windows that adorned each wall, accentuated by the opulent grounds which surrounded it on all sides as you eyed the open wrought iron gates at the end of the path. You gazed out the carriage window, knees planted firmly on the sturdy wooden bench and eyes transfixed on the magnificent building before you as though it would be criminal to miss any of the fine details as you drew closer.
“You grew up here?” You asked, mouth agape and eyes widened to the size of dinner plates as you tried in vain to comprehend the sheer magnitude of the mansion. Dio cast you a casual sideways glance that suggested he hadn’t found your reaction particularly surprising and did not care to dignify your question with a response.
The carriage wove round the weary, meandering path where the structure of the Joestar mansion always seemed framed in view like some luxuriated monument to a king. The building loomed over you, daunting in the appearance of its dark bricks that ascended into the heavens where the bell tower pierced the firmament, but it carried with it a feeling of righteousness, as though instead of some dismal castle that rotted with the ghosts of bygone monarchs, it was home to nothing but noble and goodly men who had walked the halls for centuries and who would remain for centuries more.
You carried on with your wistful ideation until you came upon the heavy gates which opened upon a cobblestone promenade, the clicking of the horses’ hooves began to slow as they rounded the opulent fountain at the center until you had reached the front of the building where all at once the carriage came to a grinding halt. From there, you were offered an astonishing view of the building’s impressive facade, everything about it made you feel dwarfed in comparison. The mansion made even your childhood home, which you had always held with a degree of splendor in your mind, feel tiny and pedestrian in comparison.
Looking on, you could see a small group of people standing near the entrance, you recognized one familiar figure as Jonathan, ever the filial son, he stood steadfastly at his father’s side. The familial presence seemed to disarm you of some of your apprehensions, but before your nerves could fully settle, Dio was tapping your shoulder to alert you it was time to get out and make the grand introduction you’d been pouring over.
He took your bag and climbed down the stairs first, waiting at the door to assist you in a grand, gentlemanly gesture you were certain was partially a show put on for his family. Dio adeptly took your hand and led you down the stairs, easing you onto his arm as though this were a perfectly casual encounter.
Jonathan stepped forward and met you halfway across the promenade with the same solemn smile that could be seen on his father’s face. “Dio… it was nice of you to make the trip. Father has been waiting for your arrival.” Jonathan shook Dio’s hand formally and gave you a slight, familiar hug that seemed constrained by a lingering awkwardness.
“JoJo…”
“Won’t you let me take your bag?” Jonathan asked, his hand inching closer to the handle that Dio held onto tenaciously. You gave him an approving nod to urge him towards civility and, with a hesitant sigh, he released his grip and allowed Jonathan to take your bag. “Now then, allow me to show the lady to her room.”
Dio scowled, any inclinations towards politesse were heedlessly abandoned over the suggestion, perhaps with more rapidity than another situation would have yielded had it not been for his lacerated nerves. “I shall be accompanying her once things are settled. Do not be so eager to whisk her away from me.”
Jonathan sighed but ultimately thought it best not to stir his brother’s temper any further than it already had been, so instead he chose to disengage and effortlessly carried your bag towards the door, and in the wake of his absence, you were allowed to reclaim your post at Dio’s side, where he deemed you ought to be.
Still motionless, Dio stood in place as George began to descend the stairs, making his steady approach. Without thinking, he drew you closer to Dio’s side and wrapped your small hands around the width of his upper arm, “it’s going to be alright, just breathe.”
“I told you before that I have no reason to be nervous.”
“Dio… your heart feels like it’s going to beat out of your chest,” you whispered, soft enough so that no one else could hear you. Dio gritted his teeth and you could feel the muscles in his arm tighten in your grasp. As much as he’d tried to ignore the violent swarm of feelings, a visceral aversion had flared up in him the moment he saw his father. For the first time since arriving at the Joestar mansion more than eight years ago, Dio felt incomprehensibly small. Though physically he’d overtaken his father in height somewhere in his adolescence, he couldn't help but feel as though he had diminished in comparison when he looked upon the stately man whom he had sworn to murder just a season ago.
His father stood mere steps away, the grey streaks of his hair seemed to blur into the haze of the dim morning light like a graceful halo of faded silver that granted him a sense of warmth and humility in spite of the stoicism contained within his noble countenance. Wordlessly, the two of you crossed the cobbled path that to Dio had once seemed so familiar but in the wake of his disappearance seemed as foreign as the day he’d arrived as a child. You continued to urge him forward, only falling behind when he finally met his father face to face.
“Dio…” before another word could be spoken, George circled his arms gingerly around Dio’s broad shoulders, holding him in a tight embrace. “Welcome home, my son.”
“Father…” Dio murmured, more than a bit rattled by the affectionate welcome, over the course of the many years he’d lived with the Joestars, he could never remember his father hugging him. Not that he would’ve welcomed it before, but even now it felt awkward and forced.
“Dio, your presence in this home has been greatly missed. I am thankful that you have decided to return.” Deep indigo eyes glimmered with the light of faint, ephemeral stars before fading back to the aristocratic temperance that befitted a man of his status.
“Father, I fear that have been horribly wicked, my actions in the year past and in all my life have been inexcusable. Though I am underserving, I hope that you can find it in your heart to forgive me.”
“Worry not, Dio, you are my son and all has already been forgiven. I am more than grateful that you’ve come home to me once again, this is where you rightfully belong,” George said even more amiably than before with a heavy hand on Dio’s shoulder.
Dio bit his bottom lip. The sequence had played out exactly the way he had pictured it would, and yet it felt just as bittersweet in reality as it had in his head. It was almost undeservedly easy. There had been no challenge, no fight, no acrimonious scene for him to claw his way through; the credulous forgiveness left him wanting to retreat behind the clever disguise that his former self had so prudently constructed. It would be so much more convenient to return to the specious disposition he had devised than it would be to face the discomfort that riddled his constitution. The well-modulated character he crafted had been so carefully attenuated to fit the exact specifications that his standing as a son of the Joestar family required of him so that no one could see the face of the ruined orphan from London. It would have been easy to pick up from where he had left off and pretend that nothing at all had happened so that things could go back to the way they were, but it would not make his life any less counterfeit than what it had been before he left He would need courage in spades to face the harshness of the reality before him without acting invidiously, so it was not without a degree of resentment that he swallowed a shred of his pride and bitterly summoned the necessary veracity to continue on, “thank you, Father. Indeed, I am unworthy of such kindness, I will do my utmost to make.”
“Alas, I am not without blame in all of this. I fear in your youth, you may have been unaware that I have always loved you as though you were my own. And thus, you never truly felt welcomed, I hope that in coming home you will have realized that you have always been a member of this family.”
Dio shook his head, a slight slump in the way his shoulders hung defeatedly. The overt sympathy did not help the heaviness that weighed upon him. “The onus falls on me alone, I had been treated with nothing but kindness, and still chose to make a devil of myself. Your forgiveness is more than enough. I… I’m sorry. Everything that happened was my fault, and my fault alone.” Though he had hardly choked out the apology, the humble words still stung as they left his lips.
“Dio, if you are truly meaning to make amends, then if you please, I would like to move on from this unpleasantness. Let us not dwell on this any longer, now we can all set our sights on the future as a proper family. Speaking of the matter, I see you have brought someone special for me to meet, have you not?” He gestured for you to join them, with hesitation you complied and tacked yourself to Dio’s side to keep yourself grounded. “I presume this is the lovely girl who has been taking care of you during your absence?”
“Yes, Father. If it had not been for her, I know not what I would have become. She is the dearest thing to me in this life.”
George leaned in and offered you his hand which you shook lightly and sagaciously mustered all of your politesse to establish yourself as both the decorous and erudite woman who had charmed his son. “It is a pleasure to finally meet you. JoJo has told me of all the ways you have helped my son. I am immensely grateful to you, young lady.”
“Thank you, Sir Joestar, the pleasure is mine and I am more than grateful that you have allowed me to stay in your beautiful home.”
“Not at all, after all that you have done for my son and my family, my doors are always open to you.” There was an air of uncertainty in the moments between, as though in spite of all his good words, he wasn’t quite sure what to make of you. You couldn’t blame him, with a situation so
Once the introductions had been acknowledged, a well-dressed servant opened the doors and beckoned the lot of you in through the large portal. Inside the mansion seemed more a like palace than a home. Everything about it suggested some classical importance, from the rich tones of the walls to the coffered ceilings and the black and white tile that felt reminiscent of the colonial buildings of New England. Every aspect of the house seemed to radiate a sophisticated opulence without bordering on garish, an incredible feat of design to make each element feel intentional.
“You grew up here?” You reiterated with only moderately less awe in your voice.
“Is it not what you expected?”
“I don’t know what I was expecting, but I don’t think any amount of detail could’ve prepared me for this. I’ve never seen a house even remotely like this before.”
“I hope it does not change the way you view me.”
“Oh, not at all it’s just… you really grew up here?”
A subtle nod, then a knowing shake of his head was all he offered in response as he coolly ushered you towards the stairs with a brusque stride.
“Are all these paintings original? They look original. And that floor has to be real marble. You have got to show me the rest of this house, this place is just magnificent!”
“Later.” He said tersely, keeping his voice low whilst he tried to steer you away from whichever finery had caught your attention.
“Come along, Miss, let us show you to your room,” a soft-spoken servant declared and began ascending the staircase.
“Oh, my own room?” You asked, with an affectation of cordiality that attempted to conceal the quizzical disappointment that had bloomed at the prospect of being left to your own devices in such a large and unfamiliar house.
“But of course. You did not think Father would allow you to stay in my room, in my bed, did you?”
“I don’t know… I guess I assumed…”
“Don’t worry, dear, I’ll have no problem showing you my room later. Assuming you’re interested in seeing it.” He purred as a finger trailed across the line of your shoulders, even through your thick clothes you could feel heat begin to radiate through the fabric.
“Of course!” You squeaked, perhaps a bit too loudly to be as ladylike as you were attempting to make yourself seem in order to land yourself in the good graces of Sir Joestar. To add to your chagrin, you felt Dio’s hand settle on the small of your back as he led you up the stairs in pursuit of the butler. Your florid cheeks could hardly be attributed to any lingering winter chills so you bit the inside of your lip to shun any pesky diffidence that may suggest a lack of refinement.
“Dio, once you get your friend settled, I would like to speak with you in my study. Privately, if you don’t mind.” His father called, his voice stern and proper, but devoid of any real anger. Despite this, you felt Dio’s hand tense where it rested upon you, tightening to a subtle grip that dug into the flesh of your hip.
“Yes, Father,” he said with a grimace. You glanced at him reassuringly and curled your fingers around his empty hand to remind him of your presence. This earned you the softest of kisses on the top of your head which left you longing for greater affection that could not be shared with the whole of the household in view.
You climbed the wooden staircase and were led down the balcony overlooking the foyer below, as you rounded the corner you noted a particular section of the railing that must’ve been recently repaired as it did not seem to match the grain or wear of the rest. Your fingers touched the seam which only misdeed the repairs seem more evident, but before you could dwell on it further you were being pulled away to resume the journey to your room. Keeping up with the brisk pace, you continued down the elegantly decorated corridor, it contained even more paintings with furthered the already impressive collection you’d seen on the floor below. Abruptly, you were stopped at the precipice of a heavy oak door fretted with a fine geometric pattern which was repeated across the crown molding. “Your room, dear lady,” the gentleman said as he beckoned you inside.
You were met with an impeccably decorated room that exuded luxury in a way that couldn’t even be rivaled by the finest of old money estates around which you had grown up. “This… this is my room?”
“Of course Miss, is it not to your liking?”
“No, no, it’s perfect, it’s unbelievable… I just, I can’t believe I get this all to myself, this is incredible!”
“Of course, you are our honored guest. You shall be provided with all the comforts the estate has to offer.”
You couldn’t manage a response, too awestruck in an attempt to take in the entirety of the room. Your eyes darted from the rich tones of the walls to the immaculate hardwood floors then to the paintings on the wall and the furniture you surmised to be from the Georgian Era and of excellent make, and all the various trinkets that, as far as you could tell, pulled the room together cohesively.
“Where would you like your bag,” Jonathan asked as he peeked in the door beside his brother.
“Oh, just anywhere is fine, I can unpack on my own. Thank you, Jonathan,” you responded with a vague gesture, too awestruck by the grandeur of the room to conceive of anything else.
“Is there anything else you need, dear lady?” The servant asked again, looking rather dwarfed by the two towering figures of Jonathan and Dio.
“Thank you, no. You’ve been more than enough help.”
“Then I shall take my leave, please allow yourself to settle in and enjoy your time here.” He gave a small bow before leaving the room.
“Thank you,” you called, but he had already gone before you could properly show enough appreciation for the hospitality and you had hoped that the interaction
Dio stood leaning against the door with his arms folded over one another. Finally alone and granted the security of the closed door, you felt emboldened to indulge him in ways only privacy would allow. All of your shyness had been discarded in favor of entertaining the scandalous desires that were alight in your racing mind. Without so much as another thought, you placed your hands on either of Dio’s muscular arms and guided him to the bed, pulling him on top of you in a wild, hungry kiss that burned like wildfire through your body.
“You know,” you said, breathless after the kiss had broken, “this really is such a nice room and this bed…”
Dio hummed against your skin and gave in to your wishes for a moment. He kissed down the soft curve of your neck, letting his teeth run against the high collar of your blouse, teasing you until you’d been worked up to a frantic, panting mess, “Dio… please,” you moaned, restraining a whine as your back arched off the bed in search of connection.
“Don’t get ahead of yourself,” he chided before pulling himself to a seated position on the edge of your bed.
“Master Dio, your father is waiting for you in his study.” The soft voice of the same servant echoed down the corridor, reaching your door in a muffled whisper that left you wondering how much of your private affairs could be heard from beyond the door.
“It appears that I have business to attend to,” he said with a ruffle of your hair and a kiss on your face which had fallen into a cheeky pout. “Later,” he said again, “if you’re impressed with a guest room, I think you’d rather fancy seeing my room.”
“Oh, would that be proper, Master Dio?”
“Now darling, you don’t expect me to believe that you would be tethered to the obligations of propriety. Especially once the door has closed. That is if that little display has anything to say about it, at any rate. Though, I can’t say I would object to that moniker, especially if it happened to fall from your lips while your body was thrashing recklessly beneath mine.”
“Now who’s the one getting ahead of himself.”
“Oh, I was just giving you an image to hold onto, since you’re clearly so eager already. It’s quite shameless of you, really. And here I thought you were intent on making a good impression…”
“I do intend on making a good impression.”
“It seems your efforts may have been mislaid by a different desire.”
The ruby blush on your face betrayed you, leaving you vulnerable and affected by his infinite charms. He cupped your cheek and kissed you once more, it was a tender and dignified kiss which juxtaposed the previous one. But without further affection, he finally crossed the room and took his leave.
“Don’t keep me waiting too long!” You called a bit petulantly, as you folded your knees on the bed, watching the door until it closed with a heavy thud. You listened as the sound of Dio’s footsteps echoed down the wood floors, growing fainter with each passing moment. Once assured he had indeed gone away, you pulled yourself from the bed and endeavored to pad across the room to fully acquaint yourself with your new space in all of its grandeur. It far surpassed any expectation you might’ve had, the magnitude alone made you seem small and humble in comparison. Even the status your family had enjoyed in your own time could never be comparable to the magnificence of the palace in which you now resided.
Once you’d hung your clothes in the provided wardrobe you changed into something less austere than your travel clothes and threw yourself again into the plush comforts of the magnificent bedding. Enveloped in the fine linens you felt yourself give into relaxation. Swirling thoughts danced around your head in a phantasmagoria of dizzy, idyllic thoughts. What an incredible turn your life has taken. Only a season had passed since you became involved with Dio, yet even in so incomprehensibly short a time, your entire life had been rendered unrecognizable from what it had once been. Neither of you were the same person you had been when you met each other on an unseasonably mild night in late November and whomever you were to become would unfold within these hallowed halls. The future and the past ceased to have the power they once did, all the world was yours to make out of it what you wanted.
Notes:
Thank you Dr. Watson in The Hounds of the Baskervilles for helping to inspire my description of the English countryside and old family estates. I know that is set in Devon and this is in Liverpool, but being that I don't exactly know what the landscape looked like in the 19th century, I am taking some creative liberties. And I have always wanted to use words like "heath" and "moorland" so even if it's not totally accurate, I am seizing the opportunity!! And, I mean, the way it looks in the anime is kinda verdant in hilly sooooo...
Also, I promised AGES ago that unplanned pregnancy was NOT going to be a twist in this story and I promise that it won't be, if I want them to have babies it will be when they are good and ready and it will never be a main aspect of this story, Dio still has to heal in full and we've got oodles of angst left in regards to his homecoming.
Other than that, I promise there is no foreshadowing in this chapter... none at all... yep.
I'm sorry this chapter took so long to get out, I have been very in my head about my writing and getting overly critical my word choice and little details that are probably unimportant in the grand scheme of things, but alas, we persist. I've got a little break from work until just after the new year, so I am hoping to get some work done and get back to my regular weekly (or maybe every other week) posting schedule.
Anyway, I can't believe the end of the year is almost upon us, this will likely be my last update of 2024 and I'm feeling a little maudlin about it. I can't believe I've stuck to writing this story as consistently as I have and I am so grateful that so many of you guys have found joy in it too, seriously, thank you al so much for enjoying my writing! I have so many things planned for the new year that I am excited to share with you guys, until then, I'll see you all on the other side! Happy Holidays and Happy New Year!
Chapter 34: Unbroken Chain
Notes:
Sheepishly crawling back as though it hasn't been a month since I last updated... I wish I had a genuinely good excuse besides just taking forever to get this chapter in the shape that I'm happy with, let's up the next one comes sooner. Anyway, until then, enjoy Dio going through it.
(See the end of the chapter for more notes.)
Chapter Text
Dio found himself in his father’s tastefully decorated office, sitting before his father’s walnut desk with his hands folded over one another. In spite of his telling you to the contrary and the mollifying words you had left him with, the moment he was face to face with his father he felt a pang of regret, like a steely dagger plunged straight into his chest. In the back of his mind, he wondered if it was a mistake to come at all; if perhaps he would live to regret a rekindling with the Joestars.
Gut-wrenching, almost nauseating was the bitter taste of defeat mixing with regret. After all the venomous lies he had told his father, he never thought he would be plagued by such an inexorable feeling of remorse. How could he, after so many years of deception and falsehood, find himself grappling with these dubious compunctions?
The very thought of facing up to his old demons and revisiting the worst version of himself left him almost diffident. It was not an easy task, that much was obvious and he knew that, if not for you, he would never even consider doing so. He could see the man he used to be clearly in his mind, lurking just on the periphery. Scornful, wicked, empty. The ghost of his former self always stood lurching out from the recesses of his mind, harbored in the same darkened corners where the images of his father remained. All he had done to become that person, all it had taken to break free of the chains that fettered him to all his rage and hatred. All the things that never allowed him to be happy. And how in so short a time it had been undone. Before, Dio would have felt a visceral revulsion at the very idea of such a tender sentiment, of opening his heart to his father and sharing anything that transcended the cordiality he had used as a mask in ignoble intent.
“Dio, I wanted to discuss a few personal matters before you had a chance to settle in.” His father began with tentative courteous remarks that ushered the conversation to its more practical intentions.
“I understand, Father,” Dio replied, only feeling more apprehensive in his resolve than ever before.
“Did your young lady find the room to her liking?” George asked, though the question had been posed in earnest, Dio could not help but feel the routine pleasantry did more to curtail some of the tension that lingered between them.
“Yes, I believe she’s more than pleased with the arrangement,” Dio replied, and for a moment he was grateful for the platitudinous discussion that preceded the inevitable moral diatribe.
“Wonderful, I do hope that she will feel right at home here and I am very glad to have you back as well.”
“Thank you, Father, your kindness is already too great.” Once Dio had spoken, a silence grew between them. To ease his nerves, Dio leaned his back into the chair and crossed one leg over the other, mindlessly fiddling with his fingers in the hopes that the blandishments would ease the nagging conscience that had continued to claw at the inside of his heart.
“Now, then. Shall we proceed to the matter at hand?” Half in a show of respect and half in agitation, Dio sat up straight and in an instant pulled himself together in preparation for any oncoming castigations. “Dio, I tell this to you not as a means for vengeance, but because I think you ought to know. It broke my heart when you left. After all the unfortunate events that occurred, after what you had done, your choice to not come home is what hurt most of all. Dio, I have loved you as though you were my own from the very start and there is nothing that could ever cause that bond to waver. Even if you had accomplished all that you’d set out to do, that bon would not change. Above all, I want you to know that you are still my son, no matter what has happened, I will not think of you as any less. Be that as it may, it was cowardly of you to not come back and face your actions.”
Dio’s face fell, solemn and replete with shame, his sharp eyes seemed almost soft and doleful in response as he stewed in the now-familiar feeling of unease. “I know Father, and it was… wrong… of me, the whole lot of it was wrong.” He exhaled sharply, feeling the knot in his stomach tighten. “I was a bitter, hateful, person back then. I could have never appreciated the magnitude of your kindness of which I have been so undeserving all my miserable life. In the wake of my behavior, I’ve come to find that throughout my life I have done a great many wicked things, horrible things a man should never even consider. I have been brought to the realization that I acted so wretchedly to keep myself from facing the pain I have carried with me for many years of my young life. If I never allowed myself to care for other people, then I could never be hurt again. So I gave into the darkness and acted horribly, to both you and to Jonathan. I wouldn’t let myself be loved because I was afraid to be, because it made me vulnerable, something I would not allow myself to be because I thought it weak. And so I was cruel to the people, who were kindest to me, and for that, I am truly s-sorry. But I have been made to see differently now, I pray you can believe that all I say is true, even if I have not given you reason.”
George gave a slight approving hum, “I am glad for your change of heart. You mean more to me than you could know, Dio, I hope that now we can move past this unfortunate situation and get you back on the path you deserve to be on because I assure you that you are most worthy of all that I have given you and having you back is proof enough for me.”
“I would very much like that, Father.”
“Then so it shall be.” George clasped his hands abruptly over Dio’s, “I mean it, you are forgiven.”
Repeated, the words seemed just as bittersweet to Dio as they had before. Of course he deserved forgiveness. Of course he deserved all the grace and understanding everyone was so willing to give him. After everything he went through, of course he deserved it. Right? Then why did it taste so sour in his mouth?
“Now then, if that is all, wish for us no longer to dwell on anything so unpleasant,” George said, assuming a more cavalier disposition Dio had not quite expected to see in private. “JoJo has told me the reason for your sudden change of heart is due to your acquaintanceship with the lady whom you’ve brought with you today, is that true?”
“Yes, Father. She saved me from myself when I was at my worst. I owe everything I am now to her.”
“I see. I assume you intend on pursuing a relationship with her, or else you wouldn’t have brought her with you.”
“I do. I am most in love with her.”
At that, George sat up. Jonathan had been rather vague in the descriptions of your relationship with Dio as a means to leave a finer characterization of the boundaries to Dio himself out of courtesy, though the ambiguity had left George to ponder the semantics on his own. Having observed Dio through his adolescence, he hadn’t harbored much hope in finding him a wife in one of the village girls, and after Dio had gone through university without pursuing someone for any significant amount of time, he’d considered the prospects less than ideal. George had chalked up the idle gossip that occasionally swirled surrounding Dio’s sybaritic lifestyle to nothing more than that; meritless rumors, and even after everything that had occurred at the end of the previous autumn, he still considered Dio to be predominantly good. “My, that is quite the declaration.”
“Certainly, but it is nothing if not true. She is a marvelous woman and I cannot begin to picture what my life would be without her.” Dio replied, all at once feeling exceptionally inclined candor. “Father, I have never loved another until I met her, she means the world to me and though I do seek your approval, I must admit that a lack of it would not force me to part from her. To me, she is an invaluable jewel and I would pay any price to keep her by my side.”
Briefly, George considered the weight behind such a bold claim, before ultimately granting a gracious smile. “How wonderful it is, both my sons have found companions to cherish. I couldn’t be more grateful. That is all I’ve ever wanted for my sons. For them to be happy. And you are certain you will be happy with her?”
“I do not think I could be happy without her. I very well intend to marry her someday, perhaps once things have been righted.”
“Then, I heartily approve. I still would like to have a proper discussion with the lady, to get to know her and her family. Of course in a few days’ time, I don’t want it to seem as though she is under interrogation.” True as his acceptance had been, George was nonetheless a well-connected gentleman of society’s upper echelon and he did not know you nor your family. And while he would acquiesce to a woman whose family was of lower esteem than his if it meant his son’s happiness, a shrewd businessman as he was, he had hoped a marriage would lead to further connections.
“Naturally, I’m sure she won’t have a problem with that. She has been rather insistent on making a good impression.”
“Well, you may tell her that I find her charming already. Really, Dio, she seems quite the lovely girl and your devotion is clear enough. An American, if I am not mistaken? I believe I detected an accent when we were introduced.”
“Oh, yes. That she is. I hope that will not be a point of contention.”
“Not at all, I would never hold that against her. I have dealt with many American clients in my line of work and they have never been unkind. Tell me, does she live here permanently?”
“Yes, she has lived here for over two years, though I fear her stay has done little to dispel her of her more crass American habits. Unfortunately, I have come to find them rather endearing.”
“Ahh, my dear boy, I was in love once too, you don’t have to explain the feeling to me. Do you know if there was any particular reason for her relocation?”
“I do not often pry into the details she does not wish to share, but from what I can gather, she was not particularly close with her family, I believe that was a factor in her decision. But she came of her own volition, motivated by a search for suitable employment.” Dio explained, scrupulously choosing his words to avoid arousing suspicion with any careless declarations of your past. No, much as George did not need to know the gory details of his childhood, he did not need to know any more about you than what was necessary. The secret knowledge he possessed about you was awarded only to him.
“Oh, I see she is a woman of ambition, in what field does she work?”
“She is a scientist. And quite adept at that. She gave a recent lecture at the university that was quite well received.”
“I do believe I saw something in the paper about the remarkable female scientist, I shall have to look it over.” George mused, you were certainly quite the enigma if you had managed such profound success on your own, he admired that greatly and when paired with the debt he owed you for returning Dio to his home, he would feel no qualms about supporting the relationship, “I see I have some things left to discuss with her, but for now, that brings us to the next topic I’d like to discuss with you and that is in regards to your future employment.”
“Certainly, Father,” Dio said, relaxing into his chair, pleased that the subject of your origin had not been pressed, anything else that was to come he could certainly handle.
“Now, I haven’t had quite enough time to make any proper arrangements, but I will reach out to some friends of mine and see what is available. You were always so bright and excelled in school, I don’t think there will be any trouble finding you a suitable position.”
“You have my thanks, Father, I am truly undeserving.” Dio’s voice had fallen into the same affection of false sincerity he had so often taken in the years prior, his mind continuing to mull over the ease at which forgiveness had been granted him. He deserved it. Of course he deserved it.
“Not at all, I look forward to seeing what a success you will become, I have always believed in my heart that you would be.”
In the meanwhile, you had taken to exploring the halls of the estate. Hearing the door you presumed to be Mr. Joestar’s office opening caused you to look up from the painting you’d been admiring. You were pleased to see Dio walk heavily out of the room, though his face did little to conceal his emotions. But upon noticing you, he relaxed slightly.
“You look a bit worse for wear,” you said with an accompanying kiss on his cheek, “how did everything go?”
“As expected,” he grumbled, settling his hands on your hips, wishing to cease the conversation there. You leaned up to meet his lips in a kiss. Your lips clicked against one another’s, each movement searching for more. His hand began to glide up to the small of your back as you fell into a deeper kiss, only to be interrupted by the sound of his father exiting his study.
Instantly, you pulled back in an attempt to appear more proper, Dio’s arm lingered around your waist in an ordinary manner that did not contain the ardency of his previous touches. George gave a soft smile but did not offer any further comment, something for which you were rather grateful.
Not without a certain degree of prestige, Dio led you down the hall to his bedroom. Upon entry, you were met with an atmosphere that unquestionably belonged to Dio. Everything was richly decorated with the highest level of class. A restrained sort of nobility that ventured into opulence without seeming terribly ostentatious, though a few trinkets and decorations expressed his proclivity towards excessive luxury and in all, leaned more showy than the quiet affluence which characterized the rest of the estate, but yet still did not feel any less sophisticated. The fine, dark colors of the walls accented the wood paneling. Everything seemed neat and orderly save for a few errant books that were strewn about a bedside table. The comforter on the impossibly large bed was of an elegant emerald green. One large window sat centrally on the largest wall, flanked by two smaller ornamental windows with an ornate pattern in the leaded glass. Everything felt dignified and sophisticated and unmistakably Dio’s.
Acclimating to the familiar surroundings, Dio breathed deeply. Everything was exactly how he’d left it. Exactly. It hadn’t been touched save for being routinely dusted. In all the months he’d been away, after everything he’d done, his father had been sure to have a space kept for him. It should’ve pleased him, to be welcomed, to be loved so earnestly, but he was not. The same nagging regret he’d felt before continued to chew through his mind like a parasite.
“It’s quite lovely. I can tell that it’s yours.”
“Hm, is that right?” His response was far more distant than you would’ve expected, you’d assumed he brought you to your room with a particular goal. Now he seemed disinterested.
“Yes, it seems just the kind of thing you’d like. Elegant, academic, maybe a little stuffy.”
“I, of all people, am not stuffy,” he scoffed, genuine indignation in his tone, vastly different from his usual response to your quips.
“You are when you want to be,” you snickered, sitting on the edge of his bed with one leg crossed over the other, observing his unamused look. “Don’t make that face, it comes with the territory of being a lawyer. A lawyer always has to have a degree of stuffiness.”
He sat beside you, his arm lightly wrapped around you to pull you closer to him. “I would prefer the term noble.”
“I’m sure you would. And while that may be true, the two things are not mutually exclusive. Though if you mean to play the part of a prince, this castle is certainly the most appropriate place to do it, and, you know, I wouldn’t mind being a princess once in a while. Just for you.” You leaned into him, sensually gliding your fingertips up his thigh, but to your displeasure, he gave no response. “Is everything okay?”
“Everything is fine. Just. Fine.” He said tersely before pulling you into a kiss that robbed you of your ability to respond. Anger began to brew just beneath the surface as he attempted to overwrite it with any other emotion. He let his tongue swipe across your bottom lip, quickly gaining the entry he sought and entangling his tongue with yours.
The connection only lingered briefly before you broke the kiss. Noting the sternness of his expression, you inched his body towards the pillows and caged him beneath your arms in a scene that looked rather silly; his large frame held beneath your meager one, but even still, it caused his features to soften as his fingers trailed along your jaw. Gently, you leaned in and grazed your lips over his neck, feeling him shudder as he exhaled, making you undeniably certain of what he needed. You splayed your hands across his chest and perched yourself between his knees, a sly expression adorning your face, “would you like to fuck me?”
A hum reverberated in his chest as his hands began to snake their way across your waist, rumpling the fabric of your dress in the process. “Shameless.” He tutted, shaking his head, but his hands told you otherwise as he continued his valiant quest to get under your dress.
“It seems like you could use a stress reliever.”
“And you are quite adept as one.”
“Then, why don’t you let me take care of you?” Your hands fell to his belt, slowly unfastening it as he watched with keen interest, a slight look of amusement in his eyes. You carefully undid his trousers and slid them down past his mid-thighs. A sharp breath fluttered from your lungs as you lightly ran your hand over his impossibly hard cock, fuck, you could never get over just how beautiful he was. The long shaft was decorated with veins and curved in a way that looked almost elegant where it lay flush against his firm abdomen, as vulgar as the scene might’ve been, there was always something that demanded awe and veneration. “May I?”
“Be my guest.”
You dragged your tongue over his entire length at the same arduous pace he so frequently offered you. You could hear him stifle a growl as he reached down and brushed away a few wayward strands of your hair. With a smug grin, you glided the tip of your tongue just along the head of his cock, he responded readily with a low groan, a firm hand attempting to push your head further down. “So impatient.” You teased before lightly sucking the tip as you gave the rest of his length firm strokes. Finally, granting him full access to your mouth, but continuing the tedious pace that was filling him with impatience.
His fingers tangled into your hair, from there, you’d assumed he'd take this opportunity to set his own, harsher pace in order to chase his own satisfaction, but instead, he held you in place and slipped out of your mouth. “Enough of this, on your hands and knees.” He commanded, once fully in control, his eyes blazed like golden fire, ready to pounce as though he were a wild animal.
“Oh, can I get a ‘please’?”
“Please take off this pretty dress, unless you want me to ruin it,” he said harshly, though he had already pushed your skirt up enough to allow his hands access beneath as his fingers busied themselves with your clothed sex.
You could feel your heart beating shallowly in your chest. His commanding voice promised that he would fuck any measure of insolence out of you and the very thought caused your wetness to pool between your legs. “Yes, Master Dio.” Your tone was playful and a tad bit snarky, but no less compliant.
“Now there’s my good girl,” he mused, attempting to appear nonchalant but he reveled in your submission.
You stepped out of your heels and watched out of the corner of your eye as Dio promptly discarded the remainder of his clothes before turning his attention to assisting you out of your dress. With a doting sensuality that juxtaposed his earlier request, he allowed his hands to glide over your body, as if reminding himself that you belonged to him. Mustering a masterful gentleness he swept your hair to one side and pressed a burning kiss into the nape of your neck. In spite of the heat, a shiver ran along your spine, so visceral that it nearly caused you to lose your balance. You realized that this, to him, served as another means of foreplay. Working you up to the point of desperation so that your desire eclipsed his… it was like a game of chess and unfortunately for you, you were never much good at chess.
You could feel the smirk on his face as his lips pulled from your skin, deft fingers unlaced your dress until it hung loosely off your frame. You allowed the material to fall to your feet, leaving you exposed to him. He caught your lips in another deeply passionate kiss as he undid the clasps of your bra which too fell to the floor. Keeping you locked in the kiss, his hand trailed slowly across your stomach before dipping below your panties. A cool chuckle escaped him when he felt how wet you already were. Soft, lazy circles were drawn over your clit. Normally, the sensation would not be quite enough to render you a shaking mess, but the whole of the day's tension combined with Dio’s seductive demands had left you clawing for release. Your walls clamped desperately around nothing and your airy moans spilled forth like a song. God, he could undo you with just a flick of his fingers if he wanted to.
All at once he removed the sensation entirely as Dio rolled your panties down and leaned dangerously close to your ear. “Now then, on your hands and knees.” You did as you were told. Crawling onto the bed in a lewd display that he relished in. A poised finger traced down your back as he knelt behind you, “I love it when you’re so eager to please.”
His hand once again slipped between your legs in order to make certain you were ready for him. Fuck, you were beyond wet, but the view of your slick-coated cunt was more than enticing to his senses, he couldn’t help but want a taste. Rather brazenly, he spread your thighs to offer an unobstructed view of your entrance. He hummed amusedly before letting desire take hold and buried his face in your pussy. You let out a few breathy profanities and steadied yourself on your forearms so that you wouldn’t buckle under the impending pleasure. Your new position only offered him a better angle to rapaciously lap up your juices. Once his tongue had ventured to your aching clit, it was only a matter of seconds before the stimulation sent you over the edge. Your toes curled frantically and you bit the inside of your cheek to keep you from screeching with reckless abandon as your orgasm surged through you like an unrelenting wave of electricity.
There was no subtlety in the way he pulled back from your cunt, licking his lips with that damnable smugness that you regrettably adored. One skilled finger traced over your clit, causing a shudder to run down your spine, solidifying how successfully he had pleasured you. “My poor little darling, you’re trembling. Don’t tell me you’ve already had enough…” he trailed off jeeringly, a tone of self-satisfaction dripping off every word.
All you could offer him in return was an unintelligible whine that drifted into a moan when you felt his length dragging against your sex, vying for entry. You angled your hips insistingly to grant him better access, and though he had enjoyed teasing you, the tantalizing display before him caused his needy cock to throb almost painfully, rendering him astutely aware of the obstinate desire to be inside you.
With one hand holding firm to your hip and the other wrapped around his shaft, he slowly sunk into you, groaning lasciviously when he felt your delicate walls clinging around him. Your back arched immediately to compensate for the fullness, taking him in this position never failed to test your limits, regardless of how well he prepared you. One hand snaked around your waist, eagerly searching for your clit, while his strokes became more forceful once you had adjusted to his size. Instantly, a needy, lustful moan fell from your lips. After all the stress from the last week, you hadn’t realized just how much you’d needed him like this. Perhaps more abruptly than you would’ve wanted, he immediately began driving you towards orgasm. Leaving your body tightening with each movement of his fingers. Of course, the spectacle of your mewling form only served to egg him on.
The pace he had set could only be described as brutal, each thrust harder than the last with every violent snap of his hips. You buried your face in his pillows to stifle the truly unbecoming sounds that poured endlessly out of your mouth. Each time he drove his cock into you he hit the spot that made your head dizzy and your vision blurry. The motion of his fingers over your clit was equally disorienting. Your entire being flooded with warmth as you mindlessly grabbed at his bedding to steady yourself. “Dio, fuck!” Your scream was muffled by the downy pillow but nevertheless heightened his urgency.
For an instant, your body felt as though you were floating above the rest of the world as the blissful feeling of uninhibited pleasure overcame you. Soft and malleable, your body complied with all his movements as he continued to unforgivingly drive into you. The sparkling bliss of your orgasm was cut short as pleasure gave way to overstimulation, leaving you gasping raggedly and gripping frantically at his bedsheets until you were no longer able to stay upright and your body melted under his.
He roughly grabbed your hips, pulling them back to meet each of his thrusts, his grip only tightening as he inched closer to his own orgasm. “Fuck…” he moaned, his nails digging into your supple flesh with a fierce strength that promised to leave a row of ruddy bruises in its wake. “Fuck!” Ruthlessly, he slammed his hips into you, leaning you back onto him so that he was fully buried within you as he came. The warmth of his cum flooding your core left you with an acute sense of satisfaction. With a heaving chest, he fell back onto the mattress, pulling you with him in one ungainly motion while your tired bodies were still connected.
“Feeling better?”
“I don’t see how one couldn’t after being awarded the privileges that I'm privy to.”
You sat up and turned yourself around to face him, noting the way he disappeared from inside you as you pulled off of him. He gave a little whine at the loss of connection, feeling rather needier than he would’ve liked to admit, but he was immediately sated by the feeling of you looming over him. He brought your body down onto his to feel your weight and let his hands travel up your waist. “You’re so beautiful,” he murmured, just above a whisper and entirely uncharacteristic of him even in the most ardent of circumstances.
You fluttered tiny kisses over his face assuring him that you relished in the animalistic way he fucked you just as much as when he treated you with tenderness. Though his face appeared glazed over with post-coital satisfaction, the lines of tension remained apparent across his face. “What’s on your mind?”
“I thought you of all people would know.” A teasing hand traced along your naked body that, despite the sardonic intonation, was nonetheless adoring.
“You flatter me, but I mean it. It looks like something is troubling you,” you said softly, hoping the gentle pressure would be enough to coax him into a discussion. He elected not to respond but merely combed his fingers through your messy hair. “You can tell me, was it something your father said?” You asked, maintaining enough sweetness in your voice to traverse the delicate topic. A raspy scoff caught in his throat as he made an attempt to respond. You nestled at his side and ran your fingers soothingly through his hair to calm his uneasy nerves. “What did he say to you?”
“He said that he’s pleased that I’m back home, that he approves of our relationship, he will be assisting me in securing employment, and that in spite of everything I did and the insurmountable hurt it caused him, he forgives me.”
“That’s a good thing, isn’t it?”
“I suppose it is.” In spite of what his words said, his voice wavered, laden with an uncertainty that rattled his constitution.
“You don’t think you deserve it, do you?”
“I did not say that, I am nothing if not deserving of all the niceties the world has to offer.”
“I think whatever it is that you’re feeling is okay. This isn’t an easy thing to do, but you’re facing it and that’s what matters.”
Dio knew well that this was the likely outcome. He knew, through both your insistence and what Jonathan had said at their last meeting, that his father would be willing to forgive him. In truth, he probably would not have come had he thought it would go any other way. Nonetheless, it still felt rather complicated. To just move on and pretend as though things could go back to the way they had been. Perhaps it was because the way they had been was a lie. The amiability Dio offered his family was a farce, a necessary front to assure the success of his ultimate plan. But now, things were undoubtedly different. Everything was different and he did not know how to proceed in earnest.
“I think I still have a lot of things to consider about building a life here.”
You kissed his forehead gently in a more tender reflection of the first time. “These things take time. Don’t push yourself. You’re here and you’re trying, and everyone knows that’s enough. I’ll be here for whatever you need, no matter what. I love you so much and you have always deserved my love, even before you learned to accept it. You will learn to accept this too.”
He sighed harshly, it was a peasant enough concept, but perhaps difficult to accept into reality when it contradicted all his previous beliefs.
“Is there anything you need from me?”
The tension vanished from his face and in its place was an amused smirk “I suppose more of what you started doing before couldn’t hurt.”
“Oh, you cad.”
“You offered.”
You chucked as you dragged the back of your hand along his cheek before straddling him again, “well, Master Dio, I think you’re very likely to get rewarded if you stay on your best behavior.”
“But my dear, you make it so much fun to be bad.”
“I’ll indulge it only when we’re away from prying eyes.”
He pulled you onto him and into an indulgent kiss, assuring you that he well-intended to enjoy you fully during your stay here. “You’re just as enticing as always.”
You softly traced your thumb over his cheek “I mean it, Dio. I love you, and I know this is difficult for you, even if you don’t want to admit it. So, please don’t keep it all to yourself. I’m always here to help you, with anything you need, whether it’s that or anything else, I’m always yours.”
“I know.” His response was short, though acknowledging your concerns. Strain still brewed in his eyes, but he ventured no further conversation and only casually roved his hands over your body.
You stayed enveloped in each other for far longer than intended. The afternoon had already gotten on and you felt it best to dress and make an appearance to not raise suspicion. You sat up on your knees and pulled your underwear back on, watching from the corner of your eye as Dio redressed. He adjusted his clothes precisely back to the practical elegance that exuded the constrained luxury he portrayed so well. He stood and motioned you to your feet. Upon retrieving the discarded dress, he assisted you back into it, laced the back and smoothed out the fabric so everything looked prim and proper. Each lingering caress expressed the depths of his devotion.
He held the door for you and bowed slightly before gallantly requesting your hand. His entire personality drifted back into that of the distinguished gentleman he’d played for many years. “Would the lady fancy a walk in the gardens?”
“Oh, Mr. Brando, such a gentleman. I most certainly would.”
He gave a soft knowing chuckle and kissed the back of your hand.
With an air of grace, he sauntered you through the many hallways, pointing out different rooms as you passed them by; his study, several guest rooms, the stairway leading to the library, Jonathan’s room, and innumerable others you were certain you’d never be able to keep track of. The house was remarkably large, especially considering the small family that inhabited it. The gardens, though now cast in twiggy greys and browns, had obviously been tended with care to yield a bountiful display throughout the spring and summer months. A chill breeze swept over the grounds, you felt the prickling of your skin on your uncovered arms.
Before you could think to react you felt the heavy fabric of Dio’s jacket falling over your shoulders. You silently acknowledged the gestures as he drew you closer and continued walking through the winding streets of the garden as Dio rambled about some of the history of the house and the functionality of the grounds. “Much of this space has been fitted to serve Father’s philanthropic commitments. He often allows the community to make use of this space for various fundraisers and other such functions.”
“Oh, like the fabulous Christmas gala?”
“Certainly, that is just one of the many elaborate events the Joestars hold. Luncheons, teas, the annual summer fête, and of course other charitable organizations will often request the space. There’s quite an interest in such a historical house with such excellent accommodations.”
“Oh, I can believe it. My house back home wasn’t hardly this impressive and the historical society would still request to show the house as a charity fundraiser.”
“Once again, you adamantly insist that 1870 is historical. I don’t appreciate your implications.”
“Hm, perhaps the historical society would like to have a look at you, you are a rather fine specimen,” you simpered with a coquettish
“As though you’d allow anyone else to view me in any way nearly as intimately as you do.”
“Certainly not. I hold the exclusive rights to such luxuries.”
He chuckled sardonically as he grazed his hand along the curve of your waist. “Do I sense a hint of jealousy?”
“No not at all, I’m just very aware of what’s mine.”
“As am I.” The way he kissed you felt, in a way surreal, as though the world around you momentarily froze. The look in his eyes was free of the insatiable hunger, but rather full of adoration. “We should probably head back for dinner, and I wouldn’t want you to catch a cold.”
Back in the warm comforts of the house, the servants were busying themselves fixing the long table in the dining room with five place settings. You clung to Dio's side as you waited to be seated.
Finally, you became aware of Jonathan and Speedwagon making their way along the downstairs hallway towards the dining room. “Oh, Mr. Speedwagon, it’s good to see you again. I didn’t know you were staying here as well.”
“Lovely to see you as well, Miss. I’m glad to see you don’t harbor any sore feelings from our first meeting.”
“Not at all, a friend of Jonathan’s is a friend of mine, isn’t that right, Dio?”
“Certainly.” He said, albeit reluctantly.
“So, have you both been able to settle in alright?” Jonathan asked to keep any unwanted tension from building.
“Oh, everything is just lovely! I can’t believe how beautiful my room is. Really, everything here is amazing, your father is more than kind for allowing me to stay here.”
“Of course, Father is eager to have you both here. And Dio, have you found everything to your liking?”
“Everything is just as I left it.”
“Dio has always been a bit secretive when it comes to his room,” Jonathan said with a cheeky look on his face.
“I simply do not appreciate it when others touch my things.”
“Naturally, though I can’t say you’ve always held yourself to that same standard.”
“Now boys, that wouldn’t be bickering I hear, would it? I will not have that before our first meal as a proper family.” George announced as he descended the stairs, immediately commanding both his sons back into more dignified behavior.
“Yes, Father, they both responded in unison and for a brief instance you were certain you caught a glimpse of their childhood together.
“Excellent, now shall we sit?”
Sounds of agreement could be heard as everyone took their proper place at the table. George sat at the head of the table with his sons on either side, you next to Dio and Speedwagon next to Jonathan. An elaborate meal accompanied by a heady, dark wine was served.
“I would like to toast to my family being whole again. Dio, in your absence, I have missed you greatly. I am profoundly grateful that I am able to welcome you home again, and to the lady who made it possible. I am inexpressibly grateful to you as well. I’ve always wished for nothing but the best for my sons. I hope now that such a hope can now be made a reality.”
“Thank you, Father, and in turn, I am grateful for your kindness and your forgiveness, and yours as well, JoJo. I know that I am not owed it,” Dio said, perhaps the sentiment had been a little put on, the necessary showmanship to get him through the evening, but there was still sincerity in action as he lightly ran his hand over your knee.
Everyone raised their glasses in a courteous toast. The wine was quite a bit stronger than you were used to. Clearly of a higher quality and vintage than you would have access to back home. The food too, was much finer than anything you could ever have managed to get on your own. Some kind of game hen, you surmised, served with delicately prepared seasonal vegetables, all cooked expertly by the hired chef. You minded your manners all the while as you ate. Carefully eyeing Dio, his motions poised and elegant as always. In a way, you tried to mirror his actions, hoping you would not look out of place. Here, even Speedwagon seemed rather refined in his mannerisms. The last thing you wanted to do was come off as an uncouth American and embarrass yourself or Dio.
Once dinner had ended, you’d hoped to fall into some alone time with Dio, feeling perhaps the need for greater intimacy than what was expressed earlier, but before you could follow after him, you had been ushered towards your room to ready yourself for bed. It would be dreadfully improper for a lady to allow a man to see her in her bedclothes. Certainly, you thought, the provocative position in which Jonathan had found you when you first met had not been relayed to George. A kindness you were more than grateful for, though still, you were not much fond of the chaperoning.
And so you made your way to your room, lovely in all things save for the lonely bed. You realized that this would be the first night you’d slept alone in months, the first night alone since you and Dio began a relationship. Sorrowfully, you thought it could be the first of a great many and that thought left you feeling strangely cold. Alone in a new place, you longed for the arms that had held you so tenderly and the warmth of the body and heart that you indulged in. Sat in the luxuriated darkness, you felt the might of the centuries that kept you apart.
Notes:
Dio apologizing for what is probably the first time in his life: disgusting, awful, would NOT recommend it
First update of the year and we're almost through January... seriously, sorry about that, I've been mulling this one over for a long time because I want to convey the emotions exactly how I see them in my head because I do think it's important to Dio's overall character. He definitely has a lot of complex emotions but he also just does not share them probably out of shame or fear of weakness. Nobody could benefit from therapy more tbh.
Anyway, I wanted to thank all of you for all the wonderful comments and kudos I received while on my little unintentional break, it has been such a wonderful way to start out the year and I hang onto all your nice comments more than you guys can ever know, it just makes my whole day, so seriously, thank you guys for all the love you've given this little story of mine even while I've been away and, though I might be jumping the gun a little, I'm also issuing a preemptive thank you for 10k hits because that is genuinely insane! I could never have conceptualized that number when I started posting this story last spring. Love you guys and thank you again and again and again!!!
Chapter 35: Sands of Time
Notes:
Guess who meant to post this last night but then forgot? Meeeeeee
A shadow Dio cameo in my part one Dio fic?????? Listen, it cannot be overestimated how much I prefer part one Dio above literally everything else, but shadow Dio in part three has a certain je ne sais quoi, ya dig?
(See the end of the chapter for more notes.)
Chapter Text
For what felt like an endless string of hours, you lay awake on your bed. Despite the comfort of the thick, luxurious bedding, you found yourself completely incapable of sleep. Your empty bed, though beautiful and warm, seemed somehow harsh and unwelcoming. And besides, your day had been far too exciting to leave you wanting sleep and the mansion, in its now desolate state, was just begging to be explored.
You crept very quietly from your room with a lit candle in hand, feeling like something out of a black-and-white horror film. Sauntering through the seemingly endless maze of corridors, you appeared more like a phantom in your gauzy nightgown that seemed made of celluloid in the dim flicker of the candle’s tenuous flame. After the day had faded into night you had become more accustomed to your new surroundings. Since the excitement of your arrival had waned, you perceived the staunch difference between you and Dio. In your home, you had perhaps taken for granted his truly unrivaled beauty. Here, the fine design of his valorous neoclassical attributes seemed more at home compared to the rendered, brushy, impressionist atmosphere of your tiny, idyllic flat.
Here, he just seemed to belong and you were revoltingly incongruous.
You felt a melancholy ache burn in your chest when you recalled just how far apart you really were. A nagging worry cut deep in your heart, only allayed by the startling figure of Dio leaning against the frame of a pocket door at the end of the hall. “The way you were flitting around in the dark, I could’ve sworn you were a ghost,” he said amusedly. You could see the glimmer of his teeth in the candlelight, ever so slightly visible behind his narrow smirk.
“You’re one to talk! You were the one skulking around in the shadows like a goddamn phantom.”
“Oh, I had not meant to scare you. I merely enjoy observing you, so effortless in your motions when you think no one is watching. It’s quite endearing,” he mused carelessly, but his voice held the familiar allure he often took into the bedroom.
“You mean to tell me you weren’t in search of a midnight rendezvous?”
Not without a dramatic flair, he pressed his hand to his chest and made an expression as though your words pained him greatly. “Surely you don’t hold such a low opinion of me that you think I’m only after one thing.”
“And yet, you appear to be leading me back towards your room.”
“Oh, am I?” He drawled casually. His hand was placed firmly against your back and he guided you down the halls, stopping at the threshold of his room. “Well, it appears as though I am.”
“And here I thought spending the night in your bed would be out of the question.”
“No, I merely said that my father wouldn’t allow it. You did not sincerely expect me to be bound by the same obligations to propriety, did you?” He mused sardonically before extinguishing the candle's flame between the tips of his fingers, leaving you bereft of sight in all the gloom of the night and completely at the mercy of his guiding hands. Feeling how your body so easily followed his subtle directions, his mouth slid into an eager grin and he allowed arms to ease delicately around you. In the darkness of the room, his lips found yours. The feeling was wholly different from how it had been in the afternoon. Every doting caress, every warm kiss, this time he intended to regard your body with the proper veneration he believed it deserving of. “Do you want me, darling?”
“Of course I do,” you mumbled in the brief moments when your lips had parted, “you know that I do.”
"Then I shall oblige," he said, softly stealing another kiss and leaving the unlit candle upon the bureau. Though the distance was small, he lifted you into his arms and placed you gently on his bed in an act of near reverence. He took a moment to look over you lying there in the dark, so patiently waiting for him with those pretty, tempting eyes that glint with the refulgence of the brightest stars. More that titillated by your appearance, he hastily pulled your nightgown over your head and climbed on top of you, holding himself above you so that he could again appreciate you form. Slowly, and with a deliberate measure of adulation, he placed a trail of kisses down the length of your body. His plush lips caused your skin to momentarily flicker with warmth everywhere they came to rest.
Not another word was spoken as he positioned himself between your legs. He graciously indulged himself in the taste of you as he lapped zealously along your needy cunt. Though this act was always for you, he never failed to enjoy it himself. He loved the way your hips rolled into his face in tandem with his ministrations, he loved the sweet sounds he was so effortlessly able to coax from you, and he loved your delectable taste that flooded his senses to a point of near intoxication. The assurance of your orgasm was merely an extra reward to him, to see your pretty face twisted in pleasure, the likes of which no other could ever hope to give you, it was nothing short of magnificent and truthfully, he considered you to be the finest luxury he ever had the pleasure of indulging in.
Not a single attempt was made to deny you the affection he so vehemently intended to give you. Every movement was direct and purposeful, as he focused on the spots he knew made you feel the best. It had not been particularly challenging, to learn your body so well, but still moments like these made any effort feel rewarding.
Your head felt fuzzy from the intensity, as he fervently swirled his tongue over your clit. “Dio…” you choked back your needy moans so no one would hear, but pleasure had already bubbled dangerously close to its boiling point.
“That’s it, just enjoy, my love.” Even in the dark, you could feel the heat of his gaze, striking like starlight. You brushed your fingers through his hair and allowed him to continue. With each flick of his tongue the tension built in your core. “You’re so beautiful, and you’re mine.”
The warm glow of orgasm spread throughout your body. It was a soft and golden light, like being cradled in the glow of an early summer’s day, a sharp juxtaposition to the usual ravenous burning that often consumed your mortal flesh.
The grin that adorned his face was confident but full of enamor as he gazed up at you with glossy lips. You lightly tugged at his shoulders to urge him into your arms, feeling almost near tears. He slid up to meet you, abandoning his pajama top in the process. You flung your arms around his neck, hardly restraining the outpouring of emotion. “Dio, I love you!”
“Oh my needy little girl, how much I love you as well.”
You blindly tugged at the hem of his pants, pushing them down just past his hip bones. “Take these off, god, I want you.”
“In a hurry as always,” he chided, but you could hear the fabric rustling against the sheets as he obliged your request.
“Need you!”
He nodded and pressed your body flush to his as he sunk into you with a soft grunt of acceptance. Your arms remained tightly around his neck, clinging to him, unwilling to allow a nanometer of space between your body and his. His hips rolled into yours slowly and fully. Taking care that you felt every inch of him each time.
Still tingly from orgasm, each motion surged through like an electrical current. Working you into a tizzy as you felt tears stinging your cheeks. “Darling, are you alright? Have I hurt you?” Dio immediately halted and attempted to pull out of you.
“No! No, please don’t stop, please! I need you.”
“My love, you’re crying.”
“I-I know, I’m so sorry!” The tears turned to muffled sobs as you buried your head in the crook of his neck. “I didn’t mean to… I just love you so much and I love how you love me, even though I know it wasn’t easy. Please, don’t stop. You aren’t hurting me I promise. I need you.”
“Very well, you will tell me if you need me to stop, won’t you?”
“Yes, please just keep going.”
His motions restarted, softer and slower than before. Every touch was earnestly tentative in a way you hadn’t felt before. Each adoring sensation was an act of pure ecstasy that had you softly moaning against his skin as he made love to you. “Oh my,” you moaned as you tangled your hands messily in his hair and dotted kisses along his flushed skin. His hands fell to your waist, holding you firmly in place when you started to squirm as the pleasure mounted and you neared your climax, only allowing your hip to roll forward slightly to meet his.
It took a great deal of effort to keep his own movements in check, not wanting any irregularity in his motions to offset you. The only hint to his impending orgasm was the way his grip tightened ever so slightly on your hips. “Dio, are you close?” You whispered, your lips lingering against his ear, the warmth of your breath, synched perfectly with each roll of his hips only served to drive him closer.
“I am.”
“Dio, I want you to cum with me.”
The grip on your hips waned and all at once he became aware that it had been the only thing keeping him from sputtering like mad. He turned his grip to the sheets to steady himself. “What do you need me to do?”
“Just go a bit faster.”
He nodded, still trying to hold back his own release until he was certain of yours. Now that your hips were free of his hold, you thrashed wildly against him, rushing headlong to your own pleasure, perhaps selfishly so. He obliged your desires, speeding up enough to satisfy you, but never enough to create any unwelcome noises that could be heard by any other resident of the house. The subtle moans that you made only heightened his need as the summit of his pleasure loomed just ahead. His own groans matched yours as he continued to drive into you without a clear rhythm. “Just like that.” You whined, feeling the warmth wash over your body again.
He felt your walls clamp tightly around him. “Fuck.” He hissed, just shy of a whimper as he teetered on his own edge, each thrust became more forceful than the last. The dizzying sensation was enough. You held tightly to him as you hit your peak. Chest heaving, still ebbing a flurry of emotions.
“Dio, cum inside me!” Your volume was much too loud, lacking in all refinement and yet it only seemed to draw him further under your spell. Someone would have heard you had there been someone in the room that neighbored Dio’s, but you were fortunate that it had been left empty, though Dio was so desperate for release that he hadn’t the presence of mind to care.
With a hoarse grunt, he buried himself as deep inside you as the angle would allow. His lips crashed onto yours in ardor as he spilled into you. You could feel his cock twitch within the tight grip of your cunt. You clung to him, not wanting to lose the sensation of him inside you. His forehead pressed firmly against yours. His mind was foggy from his own orgasm. How long you’d spent connected in the state of enamored bliss, you couldn’t quite tell. But however long it was, it had indeed not been long enough. You sighed discontentedly as he withdrew from you and found a new position at your side. His hands devotedly grazed over you, as if making sure you were alright.
You blinked away the misty fog from your eyes and abandoned any residual embarrassment. “I’m glad I get to be here with you,” you said letting him draw you in nearer until your head rested upon his chest.
“As am I. I always sleep better when you’re at my side. Where you always deserve to be,” he muttered, his warm lips caressing along the curve of your neck.
You allowed your mind to wander briefly. Sleep night quite finding you, even in the darkness of the room. “Is it hard being back here?” You asked as you both stared up at the pattern of the ceiling.
“I’m not sure if hard is the proper word. Strange, perhaps. If I may be honest, I do feel a bit of unease, as though I don’t quite belong, perhaps that is deservedly so.”
“You can always be honest with me. Would you like to talk about it?”
“Tomorrow, it is rather late and we ought to get some sleep. Maybe things will appear clearer to me in the morning.”
You turned to him and nestled against his chest. His arm curled around you and settled on your hip. “Alright, I love you, Dio.”
“And I love you, my sweetest little sprite.”
With a few remaining kisses, you settled into the stillness of the night, the thick darkness finally engulfed you with sleep’s soft embrace. Less restive than you would’ve assumed given the day’s excitement, but perhaps after such a torrid exertion of emotion, your body was ready to give in to its need for recuperation as you stayed pleasingly ensconced into Dio’s warm embrace.
Dreamlessly and unmoving you remained until a faint flicker of sunlight streamed in through the gap in the heavy curtains, the soft, clear light tickled your face and caused you to wrinkle your nose as you eased out of slumber. Dio’s heavy arm was languidly draped over your waist to maintain the shared physical bond through the veil of night. You marveled at his form, so serenely cloaked in the calm of sleep. Even effortlessly he possessed an exquisite beauty. There was something remarkable about him that you couldn’t quite name, something otherworldly that seemed juxtaposed as both a vestige of a time long since past and something entirely new to the world, an ethereal elegance that no mortal man had hitherto possessed, an imitable presence, you could search the whole world for and never come close to replicating what lay so meekly beside you.
The tranquility of the morning was shattered by a light knocking on the door by one of the servants coming to alert Dio that breakfast was to be served on the hour. You held your breath to keep from making any kind of noise, only exhaling once you heard his footsteps heading down the hall. Dio sat up abruptly. For a moment he was taken aback by his surroundings. Though it has been his home for many years, it felt somehow strange after so much time away. In the hazy state of waking as though he expected to wake up in your bed, in the flat he had called his home for several months. The reminder that he had indeed returned to his proper home was more disconcerting than it ought, but seeing you beside him was a welcome comfort he could never tire of.
“Would you care for breakfast, or would you rather spend the morning doing something more familiar?” He asked, half in earnest.
You crawled into his lap and gave a soft giggle, “I dare say, these sheets are dangerously comfortable.”
“Certainly, it makes one want to spend the whole day wrapped in their warmth. Though there is perhaps something else I prefer being wrapped in more,” he mused slyly, lightly trailing his fingers over your still-nude body.
“Insatiable,” you whispered in playful denigration as you shifted your position to straddle him properly.
“You love it, I know you do.”
“I certainly do, but they will be expecting us to be making an appearance. How would we ever explain our absence to your family and, good heavens, what shall we do if they were to come looking for us and found us engaged in rather licentious behavior?”
He rolled his eyes but granted you an affirmative nod nonetheless before he rolled your body off of his. If you were bent on denying him, he was not about to allow you to rile him up in such a disgraceful mess. Still, had he been vying for a bit of ante-jentacular affection, he would have certainly been met with greater disappointment in your dismissal, but as it stood, he was fine to proceed with the morning’s typical affairs to see if he could carve out a bit of normalcy in his uncannily familiar home. “But there will be plenty of time tonight if you’re planning on another covert meeting tonight,” you said with greater affection when you noticed the dour expression across his face.
“I am absolutely intent on it, so long as the lady will have me.”
“And I wouldn’t have it any other way.” You retrieved your nightgown and hastily pulled it over your head. “I’ll meet you downstairs.”
“Oh, do you not wish me to accompany you back to your room?”
“You truly are insatiable. Perhaps if you’re fixing to find out if my sheets are as comfortable as yours, you’ll just have to sneak into my room one of these nights.”
“Perhaps I was simply trying to be a gentleman.” He glowered in a show of mock indignation.
“That smirk says otherwise, Dio Brando.”
He chuckled and watched as you snuck out of his room, hesitating as you looked down the hall in the hopes that you wouldn’t run into anyone before slinking away in the coquettishly poised manner that suited you so indescribably well. After your hasty retreat, he figured it best to ready himself for the day ahead but soon found his face to face with the crushing weight of reality and his yet unabsolved sins.
Dio laid back on his bed. His own bed. Back in his own home. Up until a week ago, he hadn’t thought he would ever be back in this place. He had been so sure that he was rid of the Joestars from his life entirely, and yet there he was, back under their roof, a part of their family once again, perhaps even more intimately than before. He knew that he was in for quite an adjustment, perhaps a great deal more than he was willing to commit to.
He felt the throb of a nagging headache coming on. Perhaps it would be best to stay in bed all day, after all, it surely would be an easy enough excuse. No, he knew that he’d just be using it as a pretext to avoid further encounters with his family. He rubbed his hand against his temples to soothe the sharp ache that had arisen. He could not figure out why his father would so willingly welcome him back after what he’d done. After everything, after learning the foul, worm-eaten truth, he still insisted they were family, that he loved him as a son. Much like Dio could not figure out what led you to offer him aid during his time of need several months ago, he could not figure out the Joestars. How could anyone be so altruistic? None of you gained anything from loving him, yet you did. It could’ve easily been to your detriment. It was a curious streak of luck, one he had never considered up until now.
Perhaps all his life, he had always felt as though the world owed him everything. He was entitled to wealth, status, power, sex; anything at all that he desired, it should have been his, he deserved it on virtue of being Dio Brando and that in and of itself was enough not to warrant any further justification.
When he had first been moved into the Joestar household many years ago, he never bothered to question why they would take him in. What difference did it make if some rich folk wanted to dote on him? Even if they viewed him as a sorry commoner from the slums of London, it mattered little. However, upon thinking back with the proper consideration, the Joestars never viewed him that way. He was always treated with the same dignity as Jonathan, as though George had been his own father all along. From the moment he arrived he was welcomed warmly, he had been made to belong there, even though in his heart, he felt as though he did not. None of the servants ever questioned him or his position. He was simply a member of the family without judgment or revilement. Overnight he had gone from an orphan in the slums to a nobleman’s son. And he had always taken it for granted. Never questioned it. Never bothered to look far below the surface. It occurred to him rather strangely, it had rather a Dickensian picturesqueness that seemed far too callously ironic to belong to reality. How simple it had been to play the role he’d been assigned and none, save for Jonathan, had been the wiser of his malicious intent. For years he had been able to skate by on calculated pleasantries and learned urbanity for which he had posited himself as the dutiful and erudite son. So effectively had his performance been given that those who had been unaware of his origin may never have guessed the humble beginnings from which he had come.
But this time it was different. Perhaps somewhere out of view his father did scorn him, but believed welcoming him back would save face, the proper thing to do. No, that wasn’t it. That much was obvious. So many people had loved him that he’d taken for granted before he had known what it meant. They should hate him. They would be more than justified to do so. Assuredly, if he had been on the receiving end of the malice he had done unto them, he would have been more inclined to burn them in effigy rather than attempt to broker amnesty. And yet, everyone was so willing to let bygones be bygones and give him another chance. In truth, their righteous indignation would have been easier to swallow than total absolution without merit. How foolish it would’ve seemed to him before, but now he would not waste the kindness that was offered to him. Difficult as it may have been, he knew he would have to try his utmost to make amends.
He rummaged through his things, familiarizing himself with his space. He’d expertly crafted it to suit his own needs. It was as much a home as any he’d ever known, save for the one he shared with you. It struck him in recollection that it was the first place that had ever truly been his own. The tumbledown shack he’d spent his childhood in was hardly capable of being called such in its own right, but even on the best of days, his family crowded the tiny space that seemed inadequate for even the three of them. He looked upon that place with much repugnance; he could still vividly remember the damp, pestilent air that hung heavy with the putrescent vapors of decay. So far removed he felt from all those memories that it harrowed him to realize how profoundly it had affected him, even still he could feel the vehement pull like serpentine tendrils deep in the hollow of his chest. It was a curious and unwelcome perturbation that afflicted him in defiant contrast to the equanimity he cared to display.
Deep in the back of his dresser drawer, he found a pocket watch. Old and out of working order from so many years of disuse, but still of excellent craftsmanship. He vaguely recalled how he had taken it from Jonathan when they were children. He wondered why he’d kept it all these years. It would’ve made more sense to sell it, but there it was, as it had been for years. Untouched by either of them. How strange that it should present itself to him now when it had been such a long-forgotten occurrence, surely Jonathan would have no recollection of the thing.
He dressed smartly in one of the many fine suits he’d been accustomed to wearing during his life in luxury, thinking you would find him rather ravishing as well and he simply adored your earnestly flustered reactions when trapped under his beguiling spell. You were his, and every way in which it was affirmed seemed meaningful to him. He took one last look in the mirror before he headed downstairs for breakfast, almost without thinking, he slipped the watch into his pocket and left the room. As he made for the stairs, he noticed Jonathan standing in the foyer. It was a split-second decision, one he could never have committed to if he had taken the time to administer proper consideration, but before his intentions had fully registered in his mind, he found himself slinking surreptitiously down the hall and making for Jonathan’s room. He pushed the door open and stood briefly on the threshold before mustering the determination. With a heavy sigh, he placed the watch on Jonathan’s bedside table and collected himself before he resumed his trek to the stairs. For a moment, he wondered why he did that. Was it really so frightfully important? Surely not, he determined. A minuscule trifle from many years past. It would be as meaningless to Jonathan as it was to him, but it was returned nonetheless.
On the top of his stairs, he met his father who was as amiable as the day before. “Dio, I’m glad to see you, how was your first night back home, did you manage to sleep well?”
“I certainly did, Father, thank you. Everything was wonderful, as always.”
“Happy to hear it, please ask your lovely lady if everything was to her satisfaction.”
“Oh, I believe she was more than satisfied.” Dio hummed, a slight, self-satisfied smirk crawling across his face when he thought of you in precisely the licentious position you’d chided him over.
“Excellent, excellent. Shall we have some breakfast?”
Dio nodded and followed his father to the dining room. He observed you already seated in your proper place as you casually made small talk with Jonathan. He shouldn’t have felt the pang of jealousy that clawed at his chest. “Pardon me, Jonathan,” he announced, just shy of impertinent, as he moved to your side and took your hand in his to kiss it lightly. “Good morning, dear. I trust you slept well last night?”
“I did, it was wonderful,” you replied, mirroring his tone as if it were a game.
“That’s good, my lovely lady deserves many more wonderful nights.” His lips curled against your temple as he bestowed you with a tender, adoring kiss that sharply contrasted his unabashedly devious implications. A rosy glow formed on your cheeks but you could do little other than accept his affections as he helped you gallantly to your seat as if to prove that he was nothing short of a proper gentleman.
Places had been set for Dio and George as they sat down and food was served promptly thereafter. All the food was lovely, only of the highest quality and prepared with great care. You found yourself enjoying the meal even more than the last. So easy it seemed to accustom oneself to those sorts of fineries.
The rest of the day was spent in leisure. Sunday afternoon meant the countryside was even quieter than usual. Dio took care to show you more of the mansion. Parlors, studies, a sunroom, empty guest bedrooms, and a host of other rooms you’d already forgotten. The sheer expanse of the mansion was unmatched, the land it sat on even more so. It was almost incomprehensible. All the while, Dio attempted to see if anyone he happened to run into looked upon him with mistrust or scorn, any sort of unpleasant feeling that would make sense to him, but they did not. Everyone was polite and accepting of him. It didn’t make sense and the uncertainty bit back at him bitterly.
Finally, for the crescendo of the tour, Dio ushered you into the large library. Massive shelves of books rose up almost to the high ceilings containing innumerable volumes all neatly organized. Several heavy tables were set up for a large group of people to conduct their studies here uninterrupted. An ornate fireplace sat in the far corner, but it hadn’t yet been lit today. There were large windows that ran from the floor to the ceiling, all dressed with heavy dark curtains that had been drawn shut. The entire space gave off an air of academic importance. It felt as though it belonged in an Ivy League school rather than in someone’s home. “Impressive,” you remarked, gazing around you through the murky darkness, “I take it this was your favorite room growing up.”
“Yes, among others,” he sighed, less attentive in his manner as if he had been reorienting himself.
You leaned your back against one of the large antique tables and observed the way his sharp eyes darted about. “Dio, is something troubling you?”
“Hm, what would make you think that?”
“You’ve just seemed a little… preoccupied since we got here.”
“There is a lot to be done, a lot to consider. Could you fault me for needing time to adjust?” He asked, a haughty inflection coating his voice that left inclined to retreat.
Swallowing any displeasure, you pulled yourself fully onto the table and motioned for him to sit beside you. “Come, tell me what’s on your mind, I know there’s something bothering you.” With an exasperated sigh, he took a spot next to you and craned his neck to look up at the ceiling. Reassuringly, you rubbed your hand over his back in the hopes that the gesture would propel him towards revelation. “You can tell me anything, you know that.”
He sat in silence for a while, mulling over the words with great care. “I knew when I arrived that I would be accepted back with open arms. I do not think I would have come had I thought this would result in a fight with the Joestars. I would not put myself through that, nor would I put you through that.”
“Dio, is this all because you don’t think you deserve forgiveness?”
“I did not say that,” he snarled, far more brutishly than he intended before finally hanging his head in concession. “But, perhaps there is some truth to it.”
You softly kissed the line of his jaw to thank him for his honesty. “I think that’s a good thing. It shows how much you regret what you did. These things are complicated. It takes time to feel okay.”
“I’m not sure that I could be so forgiving. I certainly wouldn’t want my attempted murderer back under my roof.”
“It was certainly a horrible thing to do. But everyone knows you’re trying to be better. No one wants to hate you. We all love you, even more than you think you deserve. To err is human, to forgive is divine.”
“I think this qualifies as slightly more than me simply having erred. I… I tried to kill my father. My father, who cared for me when it was of no benefit to him. Throughout my youth, I was treated with more kindness and decency than I’d ever been privy to. I had an excellent future carved out for me, and I squandered it all for nothing. Money, power, what would it gain me? I could’ve gotten more than enough on my own. It was a reprehensible thing to do, and I never thought twice about doing it. I would’ve killed Jonathan too. And after all the wretched things I did to him, things that were of no benefit to me, he still forgives me. How am I to make sense of any of this?”
You ran your fingers through the ends of his hair, in your attempts at consolation, you allowed yourself to be more liberal in your touches. “If you can recognize that, it shows how far you’ve come. I know it might be hard to see right now, but you do deserve to be forgiven. Anyone who makes an effort to be better deserves forgiveness. It might take a while for you to understand. Not everything has to be easy from the start, it’s okay to feel conflicted. But this is a second chance. Don’t waste it. I love you, your family loves you, we all want the best for you, okay?” He did not respond but leaned slightly against you. “You don’t have to be chained to your past. I know that what happened, happened, and it can’t be undone, but it doesn’t have to define your future. Our future.” You put particular emphasis on the last sentence as you smoothed your hand along his thigh. “I’ve always believed in the good in you, from the moment I saw you. I believed in it even when you told me about the worst parts of you and I still believe it now. And I think you’re very strong for coming back here to face everything.” You felt his arm crawl around your waist, his head fell to your shoulder in a calm acceptance. “It’s time for a brighter future. You are going to be so successful because you are incredibly smart and talented and unbelievably charming and I’ll always support you in any way that you need.”
You turned to look at him, taking his face in your hands so he would look at you. The gesture felt disarmingly comforting, “I know that you will.” Lightly, he traced his thumb over your bottom lip before pulling you to his chest. “You have shown me there’s more to life than I’d previously considered. I am more grateful to you than you know.” His lips met yours in a long warm kiss. His tongue traced along your lips, beckoning you to allow him entrance to your mouth. You obliged, parting your lips for him. In an instant, his tongue darted into your mouth and curled against yours in a desperate need for connection. You felt him groan into your mouth the more you allowed the kiss to deepen.
He shifted from his spot to lean over you. The hard wood of the table was uncomfortable against your back as he pressed against you. Dio had every intention of having you there but became keenly aware of footsteps approaching the doors. He pulled you off your back and into his arms, this position seeming less suggestive of impropriety.
The heavy door opened and Jonathan stepped inside. “Dio, Father wanted to ask you to join him for afternoon tea… but it appears as though you’re busy.”
“Do you not think to knock, JoJo?”
“Really Dio, you’re in the library,” Jonathan said with sharper a tone than you’d heard him take with his brother since the point of their reconciliation.
Dio scowled vaguely in Jonathan’s direction and made a move to speak something you had no doubt would be far more vitriolic than anything Jonathan had the capacity to summon. So as to avoid any unnecessary altercation, you pressed your hand to his chest and interjected before he had the chance, “we’d love to join!” You offered amiably to conceal any apprehensions.
You followed Jonathan through the halls until you came upon a set of French doors that led out to a rather elegant balcony overlooking the spacious back lawn. George Joestar genially welcomed you all to tea. The display was quite elaborate for what you felt was an offhanded day. A tiered tray with several different sweets and small sandwiches was set out and tea was served in cups finer than any you’d seen before. Though the atmosphere was rather pleasant, there was an air of awkwardness between everyone as Dio, for the first time, did not attempt to monopolize the spotlight. Choosing rather to sit quite broodingly at your side while Jonatan and his father chatted casually about the oncoming spring and hopes for various events.
As Dio gazed over the expanse of the lawn, he became aware of a faint figure approaching from down the lane. It somehow looked familiar to him, yet it only struck him who it belonged to when Jonathan hastily excused himself before finishing whichever sweet he’d selected. Dio felt inclined to chase after him, confront him in this new development. But he knew it would be in poor taste to abandon his father in such a way, so he indulged the afternoon a bit longer.
Casual conversation was made, George asked several questions pertaining vaguely to the future, yours and Dio’s, but he never asked anything directly personal that may overstep a boundary that hadn’t yet been clearly established. As such, you kept your answers polite and cordial without revealing too much. In silent introspection, Dio watched as Jonathan crossed the lawn and headed down the lane to meet the hazy figure standing in the distance. ‘Erina.’ The thought appeared so strongly in his mind that for a moment he believed he may have spoken the name aloud. He looked on until the two shaky silhouettes disappeared from view. He couldn't help the acrid taste that rose in the back of his throat and it took great effort to maintain his affable exterior in the wake of his bitterness. Even after so much time had passed, the memory of all that had happened between him, JoJo, and Erina filled him with the acrimony of defeat.
…
Down the winding path, Jonathan walked beside Erina, ever-conscious of the uncontrollable pounding in his chest that began whenever he was near her. The sweet softness of her face ignited something within him that he hadn’t felt since she had last been part of his life. Seamlessly he felt her cold, slender fingers twine between his, a breath caught in his throat as he tightened his hand around hers in acceptance.
“JoJo, I really am so glad you were able to meet me!” She cooed, her lyrical voice dancing languidly on the cool February breeze.
So lost in his own mind had he been, that sound nearly gave him a start and it proved a tremendous task to ease his mind enough to muster a response. “O-of course, I wouldn’t have missed it for anything.” The two shared a brief kiss, one that still expressed the trepidation in this yet unexplored part of their growing relationship. “I’ve missed you.” He said, that same faraway look in his eyes that he so often had when he wandered through the thoughts of his past.
“I’ve missed you too, I was hoping to see you during the week, but my work has been keeping me quite busy. I’m sure you’ll be in the same boat soon enough.”
“I dare say you’re right, but I did not mean only since I’d seen you last. I meant in all the years we were apart. I was so foolish to leave things the way they were.”
“It was quite foolish. Everything that happened was. But let us not think of it. I think it’s best to leave the past in the past, especially when we only have a future.” She ventured another soft kiss, this time on his cheek. Heat radiated through his face, glaringly distinct from the chilly air.
“Erina… I must warn you that Dio has returned home. I'm sure you’ve by now heard of his absence, but after everything that happened, I think I should give you fair warning.”
“I see. I’d heard talk that he’d disappeared, though no one seemed to have the full story. You wouldn’t believe the tales people tell. Someone said they’d heard that he married a princess and had run away to Egypt. How absurd. Would you tell me the truth, what caused him to leave and why has he come back?”
“The truth is perhaps a bit more complicated than I’d prefer to tell.”
“Jonathan, I do say, if you intend to take our relationship seriously, then you must be able to tell me things,” Erina said, softly tracing her across Jonathan’s arm.
“I suppose you are right.”
“I am right, now do tell.”
“Dio, as I’m sure you’re aware, can be inclined to be cruel at times…” Jonathan trailed off. Try as he had over the many years between, he had never forgiven Dio for what he had done to Erina.
“I am very aware, he treated you so poorly when you were children,” she said sympathetically, hoping it would keep his attention focused on her and not whatever suffering he had endured.
“And you.”
“I suppose, but I care not to think of it.”
“And in the autumn, his cruelty crossed a line I didn’t think he could come back from…”
“I see. But he has returned, am I to assume for some curious reasoning?” She asked, trying to subdue her intrigue.
Jonathan thought briefly, no, it would not be wise to tell Erina about the mask and the monsters. It would be best for her to not be involved with that. It concerned his research and that was it. “I think it is perhaps impolite of me to air family grievances in this way, especially against the wishes of my father who would like to wholly move on from this unfortunate event. So, I think it would be a disservice to Father’s goodwill and, as I must admit, Dio’s earnest attempts at reconciliation. Mind you, I would’ve been apprehensive about his return had I not seen for myself the curious change in him. I think, truly, in spite of all the wicked deeds he has committed, that he is looking to make amends and be better than he was before. So I have resolved to meet him halfway, so long as he continues to make an effort.”
“I think that is admirable of you, Jonathan, and very much like the young man I remember from all those years ago. But I do fear that you’re doing him more kindness than he deserves. You don’t have to forgive him if you don’t think it is deserved. I know not what led to his disappearance from your house last year, but if it is worse than the other things he put you through then no one could fault you for wanting to keep him at an arm's length.”
“I have never wanted to hate my brother, but after everything that occurred, I was left with little other choice. I don’t know if we could ever be friends, but I would like to live without the anger left behind after everything that occurred between him and I. So, come what may, I have chosen to forgive him. Should I be foolish for doing so, only time will tell. With all that said, I would never ask the same of you. We do not have to have any relationship with him outside of cordiality at functions. I will never force that upon you.”
“That is very kind of you Jonathan, but I do not need you to protect me. Dio is not some boogeyman from my childhood. He is but a man. I may not like him, but I will support you in whatever you choose to do. He was more a menace to you than he ever was to me.”
“I think you are too kind, my dear lady.”
“Kindness is earned, and you have always shown me you are worthy of kindness. If you believe Dio is as well, I will give it gladly.”
“Erina…” Jonathan paused, looking into her soft blue eyes that always made him feel enveloped in warmth. “I love you.”
“JoJo…”
“I have loved you since we were kids. You were a light to me when things seemed dark, and I never let go of that feeling. I’ve always loved you.”
Erina stood breathless after Jonathan’s confession. Since her youth, she had always considered herself a resolute girl, perhaps less inclined towards the fanatical ideas of romance she may have read in fairytales, but the moment Jonathan’s words of love had been spoken aloud, she felt a curious levity to her disposition that she had not previously entertained that the statement that followed was uttered with little rumination and came only from her heart. “Jonathan Joestar, I have waited many years to hear you say that because my heart is the same. I love you as well.”
So easy it felt to love her. To love her as he always had with all the tenderness the world afforded. In the many years that had gone by since Erina had moved from England, Jonathan had never found himself able to consider loving another. Not for lack of trying, he had always entertained his Father’s attempts to strike courtship with the fair ladies of the village, but not a single one captured his heart the way that Erina had. Pathetic some might have called it, the way he pined for her, but he had never let go of the way it felt in the brief moments they’d spent together in youth. Long ago he had relinquished the hope of finding such softness again, but again it had come. By chance or by fate, she had returned to him and this time he knew better than to let her go, for all the love he had in his heart had been reignited on the bank of the river.
Even as the sun sank low and the pair said their goodbyes, he carried the feeling of reverie all the way home and into the night when he returned to his chambers. Tucked into bed, he found himself retelling the story to the portrait of his mother that hung perpetually over him as if the final safeguard to his life. In hushed whispers, he spoke at great length of the love that had been returned to him and the kindness of the world. Jonathan, though he had never met his mother, had always looked upon her with a kind of reverence that was befitting of an angel, for that is always how she appeared to him. She had given her life for his as such, he had resolved to not let her sacrifice be in vain. It was why he had committed himself so vehemently to goodness. He had vowed to always conduct himself in a way that would make her proud. As he sat there, prattling on about how deeply he loved Erina, he thought very much that his mother would love her, too. She was so caring and kind, but strong and tenacious when she needed to be, he thought very much that his mother may have had a hand in bringing her back into his life. Once the talk had faded and he resigned himself to sleep, he was left wondering if his mother would be proud of how he had forgiven Dio in spite of all the pain he had caused. Surely it was the noble thing to do, if not a little foolish. He ultimately decided that she must be and he hoped that she would continue to keep vigil over him in Dio’s return to his home.
And across the hall, with you wrapped loosely in his arms, sleepy and satisfied once the afterglow had dissipated into the warm confines of slumber, Dio remained awake, normally, the steady rhythm of your heart would be enough to ease his agitation, but with yet another long-buried problem having resurfaced, he was left to brood over the intricacies of this sudden convolution. Erina… since the moment he had been made aware of her presence, she had been the proverbial thorn in his side. A failure that ached like the opening of an old wound. The echoes of that memory had blighted him for the better part of a decade, it was an utter humiliation that he had faced at the hands of a docile little girl. He had spoken to you vaguely of the girl over whom he and Jonathan were brought to blows and even though he had not spoken of how he’d forcibly kissed her, he knew that you had read enough into his omissions to ascertain the truth of the matter. It was a harsh thing for him to admit, in his mind, one of the hardest to reconcile, his insurmountable defeat, the tears he shed after Jonathan had so brutally bested him, the hideous face that stared back at him in the mirror. There were few times in his life when he had felt quite as vile as he had then and it sickened him to be reminded of it now.
It was one thing for him to offer mea culpa over what had transpired last autumn, but it was another to dredge up the ancient past. Within his resentment, there lingered the fear that you would look at him with the same contempt that Erina once had. The same contempt he had once seen in the eyes of his mother when she fixed her gaze on his father. The dismal thought alone was enough to make him wonder if he could ever truly escape the destiny that had been carved into his face.
Notes:
We didn't think Dio would give up nights with his girlie, now did we?
The scene with the pocket watch is only in the manga, so if you haven't read it, Jonathan is searching for it and Dio, little bastard that he is, is taunting him about borrowing it. There's really no resolution and it's just an offhanded scene, but I'm using it here because I like the idea of a watch and time to fit in with my motifs because I am cringe.
Erina mention! Honestly, I hate when people try to say Erina isn't a strong female character just because she doesn't fight, she literally raised not only her own son, but her grandson as well, she's strong asf and I love her. We do not tolerate Erina slander here.
Anyway, inner turmoil Dio is back in a big way and right on the cusp of his dead dad's birthday!
I'm still working on being as consistent as I used to be, these longer chapters can be more time consuming to edit so I thank all of you for being patient with me. Speaking of my gratitude, I know I tacked onto last chapter a preemptive thanks for 10,000 hits but I'm going to say it again here because that's an insane number, and also thank you for 300 kudos! Love you guys, I'm so glad I get to share my writing with you all! As usual, you can check out my tumblr where I sometimes post silly things and unrelated one shots. So until the next time, I'll see you there!
Chapter 36: One of These Things First
Notes:
I had every intention of posting this chapter last week, but I started frustrating myself over it and ended up rewriting it three times. I really hope you guys don't hate it because I think I have lost the ability to be objective about it.
(See the end of the chapter for more notes.)
Chapter Text
~February 11, 1889~
Sunday passed into Monday and your stay at the Joestar mansion continued without cause for much excitement, at least not as far as you could ascertain by the serenity present within the walls of the country home. The weather that day proved itself to be unimaginably temperate, though there remained a few enduring brumal vestiges scattered over the landscape, the air was rife with the warm winds of approaching spring. You had hoped such pleasant weather would allow for further exploration of the surrounding grounds or even so far as a short trip into town, but from the onset that morning, Dio had been unwontedly distant. Though he was given to bouts of silent contemplation, it was perhaps more unnerving that you could not break through whatever left him ill at ease and every attempt to do so was met with some kind of vapid pleasantry that felt even more biting than his usual brusqueness.
After a somewhat banal morning and an even less eventful lunch, you were left wanting for some of the buoyancy that had been brought by Jonathan’s spirited friend, Speedwagon or the ever-illusive Zeppeli fellow. In spite of their absence, you were nevertheless determined to turn the day around through whatever means necessary. So you amused yourself by meandering through the endless corridors and winding hallways which you had only just begun to grow accustomed to in the hopes that you would be able to find something to enliven his mood or else prompt him to be more forthcoming with what ailed his mind, however, your efforts had been in vain as he remained just as impenetrable as before.
Normally, he would have taken the opportunity to regale to you some kind of elaborate history of the house from centuries past with enough expertise to make it seem as though it had been his ancestral home, or if he fancied, an otherwise salacious tale of his life in it and all the pageantry that accompanied it, but on this occasion he answered your questions with only laconic and uninteresting responses.
It did not take long for you to grow quite bored of the arrangement and after only a little time, you wound up in Dio’s study with the aim that a bit of privacy may yield a different result. So you traipsed about the room and contented yourself by sorting through his various belongings, books and trinkets and whatever else you happened to set your sights upon. “So, is this where the magic happens?” You asked perhaps more presumptuously than intended.
“If by magic, you mean the countless hours spent dedicated to my studies, then yes, quite a good deal of magic,” he replied rather mordantly.
You frowned, it was not as though he were some contemptible agelast, in fact, you had known him to occasionally enjoy sardonic prose and to frequently delight in your cheeky disposition, however, your attempt to thrill him with your humor had been just as unsuccessful as any previous attempt to stimulate enthusiasm.
“Hm, how boring,” you said, feigning a yawn. Then you picked up a large, professional-looking book on law from a stack of other law books, equally menacing in size and began reading in what could only be described as a comically terrible English accent. You paced the floor as if set on giving a dramatic performance while you read over a particularly jargon-filled section that more or less boiled down to the assumption of innocence. What struck you most as you read was just how many annotations Dio had scrawled into the margins, some indicating references to previous pages, some filled with esoteric Latin phrases that you could not ascertain the meaning of with only your rudimentary understanding of the language. It hit you that, as intelligent as you knew Dio to be, you never pictured him slaving over his schoolwork so meticulously and the image it conjured within you was as admirable as it was endearing.
“Alright, I believe you’ve had your fun.” He said and gently took the book from your hand to replace it atop the pile where it had sat.
“So is this where you intend to do all of your ever-so-important work when you become a hoity-toity lawyer?”
“Certainly so,” he declared bluntly and leaned back against his desk chair, a haughty expression on his face. You snickered at his earnestness and eased yourself onto the edge of his desk, extending your leg out sensually over his lap. Devilishly, he smirked and grazed his fingers along the slope of your calf. “And I couldn’t think of anyone better than you to have at my side,” he said, and though you did not doubt him, there was a flicker of something insincere in his tone, as though he had merely been reciting lines from a script.
“Oh, I can think of a much better place for me than by your side,” you said, setting your sights on a different route to stimulate his interest. The expression on your face was more wicked than his as you lowered yourself between his legs and palmed over the slight bulge that had arisen beneath his trousers. “Should I give you a taste of what I intend to do to you when you’ve been working late and need some relief?”
“Now, darling…” he tilted your chin upwards and dragged his thumb across your bottom lip, the rest of whatever sentiment he had intended to express died on his tongue when he felt the enticing warmth of your mouth against his finger.
“No, no. I know firsthand just how tense you can get, darling. And I also happen to know how much you love it when I do this,” you said with a particular emphasis on the final word.
Before he had quite the ability to respond, you’d already undone his belt and were making to free his hardening cock from the confines of his clothes. “How could I not?” He replied sternly, with a tinge of annoyance in his tone, but it concealed a degree of desire that he at present did not feel inclined to bare to you.
“Then I implore you to relax and allow me to take care of you.”
Dio leaned back in his desk chair, feeling weightless in the way you meticulously worshiped his cock. Your angelic face gazed up at him from your dutiful spot between his knees. Adoringly, you kissed along the entire length of his shaft, tongue just grazing the silky skin through your parted lips with each tender peck. You applied a firm grip at the base and leaned forward on your knees in preparation to take him. Your tongue lapped keenly against the ridges of the head which Dio rewarded with a soft moan that turned into a gasp as he felt your mouth begin to close around him. He patted the top of your head as you took him further into your mouth. Slowly, you slid down on him, taking as much as you could. It was always a challenge to get even just part of him in your mouth. Not even half of him had been taken and you could already feel tears dribble out of the corners of your eyes as he stretched your throat. You relaxed slightly and swallowed around him, preparing yourself for more. With a rough thrust of his hips, he forced himself further down your throat. A choky whine was stifled in your mouth as you regained composure and adjusted to the volume in your mouth.
“Too much?” He jeered and quickly entangled his fingers in your hair.
You shook your head with great vehemence and sunk your mouth down further until he hit the back of your throat. The very moment the sensation occurred, you could hear his breath hitch although he had attempted to suppress it behind a lilting groan. Satisfied with your efforts and certain that what was in your mouth was indeed all you could take, you began to bob your head with slight trepidation as you adjusted to the burn of him spreading your throat. Steadier in your actions, you brought your free hand to compensate for what was still left unattended by your mouth.
The grip he had on your hair intensified while he brought his other hand to his face in a feeble attempt to quell the groans which had begun to fall freely from his lips as your hand moved jointly with your mouth “Fuck,” he snarled. He was always most vocal when he got to indulge fully in the pleasure your mouth provided him. Looking down at you in this position; your mouth so full of his cock; your eyes clamped shut from the strain of taking him, a smattering of tears decorating your cheeks as you continued your valiant effort, he thought there’d never been a prettier, more alluring sight.
You fell into a consistent rhythm assisted by Dio’s hand, with your tongue swirling over him within your mouth. He could feel the pleasure building inside him as he lightly bucked into your mouth for greater control. It always amazed him how little restraint he actually had when it came to your mouth; how easy it was for you to undo him with seemingly little effort.
Just as he’d readied himself to give into the pleasure and shamelessly fuck your throat, he heard a gentle knocking at the door.
“Dio… it’s your father. May I come in?”
You gazed up at him with wide, bleary eyes that were coated in surprise, an image that could only be bolstered in excellence by the fact that your mouth was still so full of his cock. Dio roughly pushed your head back and, in an ungainly maneuver, hoisted you to your feet. You attempted to stammer out some ejaculation of surprise, but he only pressed his fingers to his lips to urge you to use discretion before speaking. You nodded astutely in return and committed yourself to silence.
Then he began preening so as to preclude any unfounded suspicions and gave a terse gesture for you to do the same. He easily redid the buttons of his trousers and concealed his untucked shirt beneath the hem of his waistcoat. You quickly adjusted your appearance and smoothed out your wrinkled dress to make yourself look less disheveled. You took a deep breath and presented yourself before Dio in silent search of approval. He narrowed his eyes and gestured for you to approach.
Before you could ask him for clarification he had already swiped his thumb along the side of your mouth to wipe away any smudged lipstick, “there, you look wonderful,” he whispered and left a kiss on the side of your face.
“Oh, th-thank you,” you mumbled and instantly felt heat rush to your cheeks.
In order to solidify the casual facade he was determined to convey, he picked up an errant book from the desk and flipped to a random page somewhere in the middle then adjusted his posture to seem engrossed by whichever legal practice happened to be described while you stood cautiously to the side and gazed wistfully out the window. “Yes, Father, you may,” Dio called once you had set yourself into your places, there was not a trace of concern in his voice.
“Good afternoon, Dio. I see you’re well and I am happy to find your lovely lady here as well, I thought I may find you together,” George said as he entered the room with the same air of gentility you had observed before.
“Ah, yes, it is a rare moment indeed when I find myself without the company of my dearest girl,” Dio said, unperturbed.
“Well, perhaps that is for the best as there are some matters I had hoped to discuss with the both of you, though perhaps you would prefer a more private setting.”
“Pray, continue, Father, I am certain neither of us would object to the other’s presence. Isn’t that right, my darling?” Dio asked, looking to you for your endorsement.
“Certainly,” you said quietly with a little nod, hoping to hide the raspiness in your voice that you knew was all too apparent.
“Oh, dear, are you alright? I hope that you have not caught a cold,” George asked with genuine concern, but it only left you feeling more chagrined.
“No, no, she is fine,” Dio cut in before you could express a foolishly loquacious apology, “though perhaps then room could do with some dusting. I fear it has been too long since it has last been used.”
You looked around, the room was immaculate, but at least it seemed a suitable excuse, “perhaps so, I will have to alert the maid following our interview,” George remarked as he took a seat opposite Dio, allowing you to breathe a bit easier. “Now then, I have been greatly anticipating an opportunity to get to know you better, Miss, Dio had told me quite a good deal about you.”
“All good things, I hope!” You said, forcing a more exuberant tone to make up for your previous immodest behavior. In spite of his geniality, you felt frightfully out of your element when in the face of an aristocratic gentleman such as George Joestar. All the tenants of society that you had been raised with could not compare to the grandiloquent nobility of the Joestars and you were certainly not without some misgivings about entertaining a meeting with your partner’s distinguished father, even without the added awkwardness of the prurient activities he had interrupted.
“Certainly, certainly,” he began, offering a mirthful chuckle that still contained the same stateliness he always exuded, “in fact, I have a sneaking suspicion that my son’s willingness to return can be largely attributed to you.”
“Perhaps my suggestion was worth something, but I don’t think I would have been able to convince Dio of anything he hadn’t already been willing to do on his own,” you said, keeping an equable disposition in spite of your palpable trepidation.
“That may be true, but nonetheless, it seems that you’ve made quite an impact on him, Dio had never brought a girl home to meet me before.”
“There is no need to speak of me as though I am not in the room,” Dio interrupted with a somewhat jocular affectation that remained persistently formal, “and I will admit that while I ultimately agreed to return, I do not believe I would have been given the ability had it not been for the tremendous effect my dearest girl has enacted upon me.”
“Well, no matter the cause, it is a pleasure to have the both of you here, and young lady, I assure you that I am most grateful to you for all that you have done for Dio and I would like you to know that I haven’t asked you here to interrogate you. I believe my son has already made it quite clear where his feelings lie and I do not wish to deny him his happiness. As far as I am concerned, my sons are allowed to choose the person they are to spend the rest of their lives with. The choice matters little to me so long as they are happy. Do you understand?”
“I think I do, and you can trust that I have only ever wanted to make Dio happy. He is so important to me, I would never do anything to hurt him,” you said and placed your hand affectionately upon his shoulder.
Though you had expected some kind of reciprocal touch, you had not expected his arm to somehow curl its way around your waist unnoticed so that for a moment you thought he might’ve pulled you into his lap in some outlandish proclamation of his affection. “I have been quite ardent in my intentions,” Dio declared, unrelenting in his touch, “I simply would not have another.”
“That is so, and I will not object to your match, but even so, perhaps I am a bit old-fashioned, but I would still much like to take the time to know you, young lady, especially with my son’s earnest interest in courtship.”
“It is to be expected, please ask anything you’d like,” you said with poise, careful to mind your manners as well as your exiguous recollections of etiquette would allow.
“Splendid, I hear that you are quite the accomplished scientist. I must say, that is rather admirable for someone so young.” Though it was what he said, you knew he had meant that it was rather admirable for a woman. You could not fault the intrigue. You had grown used to it and a dignified compliment was far better than some of the questioning stares and outright condescension you’d previously faced.
“She is far too modest,” Dio added, delighting in the way you squirmed at the approbation.
“I concur, a lecture at a prominent university is no small feat, I read the article that had been printed in the paper, it seems quite an impressive bit of work,” George added with such genuine enthusiasm that you felt as revered as if it had been one of your colleagues lauding your accomplishments.
Though undeniably flattered, you couldn’t help but feel a touch of embarrassment, not just in recollection of the entire circumstance surrounding the photograph, but simply in knowing that he had gone through the effort enough to find and read the article left you feeling more diffident than anything. You thought that if it had been any other person, you would have felt an invigorating sense of pride, but before the venerable George Joestar, you could not muster even a modicum of hubris no matter how correctly placed it may have been. “I… s-suppose it is. My employer seemed to think it went well, so I’m set to do another next month.”
“How splendid, that certainly is an accomplishment. Perhaps I will make the effort to attend, if you wouldn’t mind, that is. I do have a great many friends within the university.”
“So I’ve heard, I would be delighted. Thank you, sir.”
“Certainly, the praise is well-deserved, you seem to be quite the promising young girl, I see why my son is so taken with you,” he said amiably before shifting his focus elsewhere. “Not to intrude upon your private history, but would I be correct in assuming that all of your family is overseas? Dio has told me that you moved from America on your own.”
And with that, all the tenuous confidence you’d built tumbled to the ground. What had once been a mere sore spot was now an incomprehensible complexity that no one but Dio could ever know the whole truth of. You knew it was unreasonable to think that the topic of your family would be avoided, but it still left you in a state of agitation. “That… would be correct. I, unfortunately, have not had much contact with them since my displacement,” you said and looked to Dio for some kind of consensus as you frantically scrambled your brain to find some plausibility that would allay any of Sir Joestar’s better concerns without spinning yourself into a tangled web of deception that you knew well would only further complicate matters, but it was not as though you could not go about touting a nonsensical story about your time traveling escapades as though it were casual conversation to be had over afternoon tea.
“Have you found it difficult to accustom yourself after your move?”
“Well, of course it took some time to acclimate, the culture here is rather different, but I’ve done my best to adjust,” you said, weaving a deliberate half-truth and glancing again to Dio for approval. He only sat stone-faced, peering forward as if his gaze was looking through his father entirely, “and it has been more than two years, so I have found my stride, so to speak.”
“Ah, I see, well that is good to hear, I have spent a fair amount of time in America for my work and found it to be on the whole rather charming. Which part of the country did you say that you were from?”
“Oh, well, I grew up in New England.”
“How wonderful, I have been to Boston on several occasions. Perhaps I will have to prepare a trip come autumn, naturally, you and Dio would join me and I dare say JoJo would very much like to accompany us. He’s always been passionate about travel. We can work out any arrangements then, it shouldn't be any trouble.”
“Oh, unfortunately my parents and I are not on the best of terms. I fear my leaving has only worsened things between us, we have not been in contact since I made my decision to move.”
That was not exactly a lie, but certainly, it could not be construed as the truth, then again, it was as close as you could reasonably get given the extenuating circumstances and you were sure that whenever your parents were, they would scorn your leaving so abruptly and without correspondence.
“Well, that is quite unfortunate. I am of the mind that family is of considerable importance, but I also do not mean to know all that led to your decision to leave. Though I still do one day hope there can be a proper reconciliation, not just so I may know them, but so you are able to have your family as you well deserve. But in the meantime, I would like for you to think of yourself as a member of my family, you are welcome here as if it were your own home.”
“Oh, my, Sir Joestar, that is generous of you to say, I’m not sure if I’m worthy of such a considerable privilege.”
“Nonsense, what you have done for my family and my son has made you more than deserving of any of my goodwill and more than welcome in my home, isn’t it so, Dio?” George asked, looking towards his son for affirmation.
“Certainly, Father,” Dio responded somewhat lackadaisically.
“Thank you, Sir, it truly is an honor to be considered so,” you said and though you forced a smile, the thoughts of your family still weighed heavily on your mind. Even if you had temporarily managed to extinguish his curiosity, it did not change the fact that your parents were separated not just by an ocean, but by more than a century. “I might add though, that I’m more than certain my parents would adore Dio no matter what.” That much was true enough. You knew that your parents would have loved Dio if they had been given the chance to meet him. Rather strange it felt to reconcile that all that you’d run from had turned around and made its way back to you.
“Ah, well that is quite reassuring to hear, I would not want to cause any unnecessary trouble for you,” George said in earnest, “though I do hope that one day I may meet them, I do not believe much can be done about the matter at present, but it seems as though they raised you well, you are polite and well educated and good to my son, there is not more that I could ask for.”
“I thank you kindly, Sir Joestar.”
“And where were you finished?”
“P-pardon me…?” You stuttered mindlessly, the question had been asked so sincerely that you were certain it had not been meant in the way your mind had interpreted it, but yet the suddenness rattled you too severely to conjure a more poised response.
“Oh, I had heard from some of my American companions that it has become common to send their daughters to Switzerland for finishing school, I had simply wondered if yours had done the same.”
“Ah, no, I received all of my education stateside, I was allowed to attend university in lieu of a finishing school,” you answered tersely, hoping your flabbergasted expression had gone unnoticed. “I believe they were hoping I would foster the same passion for the law as they have, but it has been to their great dismay that I have devoted myself to science.”
“Ah, well, Dio here went in for law, perhaps that will inspire a greater connection.”
“Yes Father, in fact, my darling was just telling what a laudable field she thinks it to be. I dare say she was ready to get on her knees and sing praises for my accomplishments.” He boasted with that sly, knowing modulation to his voice before theatrically taking your hand and kissing with all the gallantry of a proper gentleman. In all, it was a smashing performance and the endearing smattering of scarlet that covered your face only further gratified him.
“Well, how delightful for you both. I just say, Dio, I do not recall you ever quite so happy.”
“It certainly was an act of good fortune that brought her to me.”
“Most definitely, and as your happiness is my own, I could not be more elated with the match.”
“And I as well, Father,” Dio said and daringly caressed the back of your thigh just out of his father’s sight. Your body went rigid and it required the attention of every cell in your body to maintain a straight face
“Speaking of your career, Dio, I had also been meaning to broach this topic sooner rather than later, but since your return, I have taken the liberty of arranging several meetings for you with companions of mine in the legal sector. They were all quite impressed with your grades and, after a perfunctory interview, you should have your pick of any one of them.”
“Dio, that’s amazing!” You said in a volume far louder than property dictated acceptable, but you were incapable of restraining your jubilation.
“Yes it certainly is, I am proud of you, son. I know it couldn’t have been easy for you to come back here and make amends, but I am glad that this is the way things turned out. I know you will do great things, I have always believed it so, even as a child you were full of such promise.”
“Th-thank you, Father. For this and for accepting me back into your home. You do me too much kindness, even when I do not deserve it.”
George shook his head, “though there are times when fate may be most unkind, I am grateful to the one that set you back on the right path, even if perhaps it was through something a bit more tender than fate,” he said and a glimmer of something stately and magnificent sparkled in his deep, indigo eyes, as though the kindling some far off recollection had been stirred. “Now then, I hope that I have not disturbed your afternoon. We can talk at greater length about your interviews another time.”
“Yes Father, that sounds agreeable.”
“And as for you, young lady, it has been a pleasure to make your further acquaintance, I hope that I have not frightened you off.”
“oh no, not at all, much to the contrary actually, you are, as always, gracious and kind, I thank you heartily for the warm welcome and all your benevolent understating, I could not ask for anything better,” you said with all the practiced politesse you had left to offer.
“If that is all, I will leave you to your business, carry on with whatever it was that you were doing. Good day to you both.” George said and promptly took his leave.
Once he had gone, you slumped over Dio’s desk and sighed, “that was far too close,” you grumbled.
“I believe it got on rather well, don’t you think. Father seems pleased at least.”
“You only say that because you get off on trying to embarrass me.”
“My dear, that is a slanderous thing to say,” he muttered imperiously and positioned himself behind you. You found it rather natural to ease into the gentle caresses that followed, even for all his scandalous teasing, you did not believe in your heart that he would ever do something to jeopardize the secret you shared. “Now then, I believe Father encouraged us to resume our previous activities."
The way his finger ran along your chin sent a shiver down your spine, but the fire behind his molten amber eyes beckoned you to reclaim the position between his thighs. Much to his elation, you complied without so much as a murmur of protest.
Unabashedly he sat back in his chair and, in a hasty and indecorous movement, he shoved his trousers down past his thighs so that his already half-hard length was on full display for you. You lurched forward and rested your elbows on the steady platform of his thighs before you took the throbbing muscle in your hands and gently pumped his shaft until he was fully erect, then your mouth enveloped him once again.
Dio let out a terse grunt when you pressed your tongue against a particularly tender spot on the underside of the tip; a spot you had come to learn drove him absolutely wild. Your cheeky display awarded you a firm thrust into your mouth as punishment, but still, he could feel you snicker around him. His firm hand knitted its way into your hair, only to push you further onto his cock. You gave a croaky whine as you struggled to swallow more of him.
A shrill hiss escaped him when he felt your throat tightening around his cock and he couldn't keep his hips from bucking recklessly in an attempt to soak up every fragment of pleasure offered to him. Groaning liberally, his other hand clamped firmly on the back of your head as he continued to fuck your mouth, rougher and more ruthless with each harsh snap of his hips.
You stifled a gag as he fucked deeper, the merciless strength threatened to bruise the back of your throat. It hardly took any time for his vocalizations to fill the room, hungry moans were spliced between low curses beneath his breath and murmured praises of your tremendous capabilities. He firmly held your head in place to accept a few more frenzied thrusts, while his pace grew more frantic. “I wonder what Father would say if he saw you like this? He clearly holds you in high esteem. What would he say if he knew exactly what you were capable of?” He gritted his teeth, the malice in his words only served to bring him closer to the peak he was after. “If he saw what you let me do to you…all the filthy things you’ve done to his son… in his home… he’d…” He attempted to continue admonishing you but choked on the words with a raspy grunt as his hips spasmed. Dio let all of it go in that moment, the momentary fear of his father catching you and him, the successful stage management of yet another interview, and all the disagreeable memories that the date had stirred up in him, everything was discarded in favor of his deserved pleasure. He moaned your name almost insensibly and let himself be lost entirely, there was nothing else, there was only you.
You felt his cock twitch within your mouth, indicative of his impending orgasm and with another unmitigated thrust, he released deep in your throat. The piquant taste overwhelmed your senses as cum flooded your mouth. His legs shook from the intensity of his pleasure and in the finality of the event, all of his movements slowed to an eventual halt as he came down from his peak, panting your name amidst scattered groans of appreciation when he felt you swallow around him. “Satisfied?” You asked, your voice was hoarse and croaky, but your eyes were alight with teasing mischief behind your tear-smudged lashes.
He only frowned, as if quite unimpressed by his actions, but the glazed look in his eyes let you know all that he refused to speak. “What no praise for my efforts? Or are you just astonished that I was able to make you cum so fast?” You added indignantly.
“Is it really so amusing to toy with me?” He grumbled, but you could tell by the arrogance that dripped from his voice that he had regained his usual poise, “no matter, it is my turn to toy with you,” he sneered and took your chin between his thumb and forefinger.
Before you could respond, he had easily lifted you from the floor and onto the edge of his desk. Several items were disturbed as he eased you further back and hiked up the skirt of your dress. Dio dipped his hand beneath your underwear and dragged a finger arduously along the length of your cunt, pleased to find you were already slick with arousal. “Now then, shall we see how long my mouthy little darling can keep herself quiet?” He smirked as he rolled your panties down your legs. His breath sent a tingle through your body as he looked up at you with an eager expression that seemed to hold a slightly sadistic quality within it. n spite of the malevolent undertones, you felt an uncanny tightening in your core before he’d so much as tasted you.
It was with tremendous efficiency that he began his efforts, immediately tending to every part of you that he could set his sights upon. His tongue lapped broadly over your folds until he had reacquainted himself with your delicate taste while his hands began to roam over your thighs, squeezing firmly into the silky, supple flesh when he felt you roll your hips into his face.
Once his lips had closed around your clit, he allowed his fingers to explore inside of you, though it had been with the intention of teasing you, the heat of your tight walls caused an unexpected wave of desire to reinvigorate him. He collected himself enough to maintain his imperious appearance and gave a few experimental pumps before curling his fingers into the velvety spot that left your head spinning and heart racing. You swallowed your desire to cry out his name and instead, mewled softly and twisted your fingers into his hair with such a frightful force that pulled loose a few strands of golden thread. Despite the undignified ferocity, all of your actions were met with a hum of approval that seemed to echo through your being and only intensified the effect of his ministrations.
Not a single action wasted, nothing was superfluous, every motion poised and methodically driven, meticulously crafted to unravel you. Every flick of his tongue provided a new sensation you didn’t know you’d been missing. You felt your legs tense around his head, knowing full well that the playful remonstrances you had thrown at him would soon come back to bite you and you undoubtedly would not last much longer.
“Dio…” you whined, airy and soft and hesitant in vocalizing your pleasure with his harsh reminder still hanging heavily in the air.
“So close already?” He jeered, casting a sly glance up at you before returning to his task.
“Yes,” you moaned, holding tightly to the edge of the desk.
“Tsk tsk, that simply will not do,” he tutted and all of a sudden, ceased the systematic pursuit he had commenced and slowed to a languid, syncopated rhythm that you could not possibly adjust to efficiently enough to find the release you desired.
“Dio… please, come on…”
“Patience,” he said and licked another slow stripe along your aching cunt before once again pulling back to observe your pretty, unkempt appearance.
You offered him a shrill, needy plea, but he paid no mind to your pathetic little protestations and carried on in the listless, arduous manner he’d grown to favor. It was a kind of ardent torture. He could have made you cum at any moment, you knew he could have, and yet he kept you teetering on the edge just shy of the pleasure you so sought, writhing against him to quell the furious need that boiled in your core. It was so very typical of him to dangle that desire over you, to keep you wanting and wishing and praying for release until that desperation manifested in the lascivious chanting of his name, over and over and less intelligible with each utterance. It was a tormenting denial that caused your toes to curl and your breath to quicken. Each sensation felt simultaneously too much and not enough as the muscles in your abdomen began to twist violently until you were certain the tension would simply break you.
But at the very moment you thought the delirium of denial would tear you asunder, his efforts ceased altogether and you were left with only the ability to stare at him with a vacuous look upon your face. Without so much as a word of reassurance, he positioned himself between your legs and began to tease your sensitive cunt with the thick head of his cock. “Fuck, just do it,” you snarled, so viciously that you almost did not perceive the amused chuckle that your impudence had awarded you.
He teased his cock against your clit with slow, shallow strokes that, in your already frenzied state, caused a jolt of electricity to course through your spine. You wanted to curse him for the devil he was, duly rebuke all of his ignoble deeds, but once he sunk into you, all reproach was forgotten by the heavenly feeling of being spread around him. In those few empty seconds, your entire body went rigid as you adjusted to the girth of him nestled so deep within you. He hooked your legs over his arms to draw you closer until you had successfully taken him to the hilt.
“God, you feel good,” you said as your head fell back against the unforgiving wooden desk.
“Tell me how good,” he urged through a stifled moan.
“Dio, shit, you feel so good, perfect for me— so perfect.”
“No one could ever fuck you better,” he growled, seemingly goading himself on with each taunting word, “this little body was made just for me, was it not?”
“Yes, Dio, only for you, only yours!”
“Mine,” he declared and punctuated the sentiment by driving a harsh thrust into you. You gave a few frenetic mewls in response, anything else you could have attempted would have turned a garbled mess of unintelligible sounds.
The tenacious, white-knuckle grip with which you held the edge of his desk became an obvious sign of your distress and oh how Dio relished in seeing you reduced to such a whimpering, needy mess as you mewled so immodestly for him, “is my little darling trying to ask for something?”
“Please Dio… please, I’m begging you,” you murmured, your voice was strained and hardly audible in your attempt to remain quiet despite the fierce sensation of overstimulation, “I can’t… I can’t take it any longer… please.”
“My poor little thing,” he said casually, but you could discern an element of haste concealed within “so pathetically undone in my hands. Will you tell me what you need me to do?”
“I need you… I need you to make me cum.”
“Well, alright then,” he purred as if the thought had only occurred to him just then, “I suppose I can assist you.” Even though his arm continued to support your legs, which you were certain acted as a greater impedance in your heedless desperation, he effortlessly brought his thumb to his mouth and swiped his tongue across the pad. There was a thin strand of saliva that dripped lazily down his knuckle as he pressed the digit against your swollen clit.
“Oh… god…” you whimpered and bleated out a few shaky obscenities. God, how he loved to see you like that, marvelously unbridled and so lusciously out of keeping with the ladylike persona you had donned for his father.
Your entire body trembled as you hit your climax, shaking and cupping your hand over your mouth to stifle the amorous noises that poured copiously from your lips. Dio had moved his hands to your thighs to cease the frantic bucking, but the tenacity of his grip made you more aware of the need he had attempted to subdue. “Ah, there you go,” he drawled, speeding up his movements and using the elevated control he had to more effectively rut into you, “there’s my decadent little dear, look at how darling you are, and so good for me,” he said, suddenly inclined to laud you with luxurious praises for how pretty you looked, how well you took him, and how good you felt. Each sweet compliment caused you to gasp softly in recognition, which in turn, only brought him closer to his pleasure until at last all sensible thought was disseminated by a brutish grunt as he came deep inside of you.
After several labored breaths to collect himself, Dio withdrew from you and all but collapsed back in his desk chair. Still dizzy in the afterglow, it took you several moments to regain the ability to walk, but you managed the small distance and deposited yourself in his lap. His hands fluttered to your sides in a far more tender gesture. “You were magnificent,” he said softly. You slowly kissed along the column of his neck in silent appreciation for his newfound sweetness.
He shuddered from the contact and craned his neck to offer you greater access, he always seemed at his most vulnerable in the aftermath of lovemaking. “I love you, Dio, more than anything,” you said as you brushed your fingers through his hair, “and you can always talk to me about whatever you need,” he nuzzled gently into the touch of your hand but gave no reply. “I mean it, with anything.”
“I know,” he said tersely and abruptly helped you to your feet in a brusque maneuver, “come now, I believe dinner will be ready soon."
You had hoped that the expression of intimacy would be enough to lighten his mood, but it did not. All throughout the evening he continued as he had that morning, unforthcoming and, even if only in silent moments, rather dour.
Though he had communicated pleasantly enough at dinner, once you found yourself again in the privacy of his quarters, he met you with the same impassivity as earlier and instead buried himself in a novel. You disliked the unspoken tension and wished rather to confront him, but seeing as he had no intention of making any revelations, you relegated yourself to the lack of conversation and found yourself wandering back into your memory after certain thoughts at been stirred within you. Sex had proved a welcome reprieve from having to confront the rest of the day’s unpleasantries, but with the euphoria long since past, you could no longer set aside the reality you dreaded to consider. You recalled your family and the acrimony that you left behind in the 21st century.
How realized how much you longed for things to be different. In your old life, you had wasted far too much time setting yourself apart from your family in a search for independence, but now with their complete absence from your life, you’d come to realize how much love you had for them in spite of the resentment that you had once clung to. It was perhaps with a degree of nervous apprehension that you wearable to admit to yourself just how much you missed them.
You wished there were a way to somehow reconcile the two distinct worlds that you occupied, you wished, though not in so many words, to have it all, but as it stood, you were left only to wonder.
These were the thoughts that you carried into bed that night, curled in Dio’s arms as you had been every night before, but there seemed something distinct in his demeanor that you still could not put a name to, but with your mind addled by your own contemplations, you let it go unspoken.
Once you had gotten to sleep, Dio allowed himself to become mired in distant recollections of his father. It frustrated him to admit how profound an effect he still had over him, but with the vague remembrance that today was once his father’s birthday, he was further beset by the man’s unassailable presence.
He recalled the day of his father’s funeral, it was a chilly, grey, empty afternoon. He could remember little of the simple service that had been held or of the faceless attendees that had looked on while the casket had been lowered into the ground. Dio had seemed himself almost a prisoner in those moments, a spectator looking onward at a scene as meaningless and as vacant as a starless night in the middle of the most barren winter. He had grown so weary of the torment that every day of that dreary year had left him unaffected. Even the morning when he had discovered him dead held little importance in his mind, it was simply the proper outcome, that price that had to be paid. Even feigned mutterings of distress he’d given to appease the vicar did not amount to any real emotion.
It was true that no one had ever suspected any sort of foul play, it seemed the likely end for the life the pitiful man had lived, not that it could have been proven if they had, Dio made certain of that. Dio had never regretted murdering his father, but for the first time, he felt less sound in that decision.
Dio thought quite deeply on where he fit in the space between good and evil. It was not something he had ever particularly dwelled on, the idea is sweeping generalizations seemed both callow and disinteresting. He felt the terms were rather inexact and lacking in the suitable nuance to properly describe so much of what made up the human experience, but he considered it still. There was a sort of ambivalence in how he saw himself. Certainly not good, he could never consider himself that, but in the same vein, he perhaps would not regard himself as wholly evil either. He thought that maybe, under another set of circumstances, he could have been different, not righteous by any stretch of the word, but invariably different. Ultimately decided that was a useless thing to consider and banished such a foolish thought from his mind.
He wondered what his mother would think of him after everything he had done. If she had lived to see it, would she have been disgusted by his rage, by the ire that consumed his very soul and left him hopelessly hollow and capable of fostering only the enmity he’d come to accept as his perpetual punishment? Would she even recognize him as the son she had devoted everything to? For she had placed in him, all her shattered hopes for a better life, and he had failed so spectacularly on every account. In memory, he could recall with some ambiguity, the way she had nurtured him with all the goodness of her soul and how he had betrayed it for murder. Dio knew that even though his father had been immeasurably cruel, his mother would have never wished for him to stoop beneath him to enact revenge.
He hated feeling like that, sickeningly weak and in need of consolation, just as he had as a child before the light had abandoned him. Perhaps it was not so strange a thing to want, but he lamented his inability to reach you in a meaningful way. He had succeeded in the complete conquest of your body, but there had been so many times when it seemed as though you had coddled his very soul and he had yet to even scratch the surface of yours. He cursed this infernal impotence that had suddenly pervaded him. Such a wretched day compounded with the already disagreeable addition of Erina Pendleton must have been an augury of some ill fate on the horizon and he was left with the impression, now more than ever, than he should not have come.
Instead of daring to confess these things to you, he elected instead to retreat back into his mind and push aside that which beleaguered him until it appeared no more important than any of his other troubles had before you came along and broken the artfully constructed veneer.
And then there was you, figuring how you fit in the equation only rendered him more overwrought than his previous consideration. You had been misused in the same way he and his mother had been, and, like her, you had not let that resentment fuel your life. Rather the opposite, you approached the world with a kind of fairylike tenderness that made everything soften beneath your touch. It was much the way his mother, battered a bruised as she was, would hold him in her arms and kiss his crying face until he felt like a person again.
He wondered what could be the cause of such a great distinction, why had he succumbed only to rage while you had risen above it? It was not as though you were unaffected ill-treatment you had endured, he knew as much from the abrupt flinches you tried to repress when touched without warning and the sadness that lingered in your typically bright eyes when you recounted a memory that had been ruined. So why was it that you seemed devoid of any sort of malice? Were you not angry at the man who had made you feel worthless? He had been scared and weak and hurt and so felt inclined to do unto others, the suffering that he endured, but you instead offered others only kindness as if you could heal all that was rotten in the world with a wave of your hand. Was it merely his destiny that he could never outrun? Even for all the love he had for beauty, perhaps he was only met to destroy it in the same way his father had. But before any further consideration could be made, all his concern turned to anger.
He had not realized how tenaciously he’d been wringing the blankets until he felt you stir reluctantly awake and turn to wrap your arms around his lithe waist. He nearly snarled at the intrusion but immediately was soothed by the simple magic of your presence.
“It’s okay,” you mumbled listlessly with your face pressed against his chest. It was always quite a silly sight for someone so small as you to hold him in their arms, but even still, between the warmth of your body and the kindness of your words, he felt his rage quell to a gentle simmer rather than the raging blaze that threatened to tear through him with all the vengeance pent up over the withering years. “It’s okay, talk to me,” you repeated more distinctly but he did not reply and only seemed to grow more taciturn once he settled into the familiar feeling of disconcertion that he had often leaned to cope with in his great dissatisfaction. “I love you, Dio, always remember that,” you whispered gently once you were certain that he would speak no more.
Notes:
Oh Dio... you poor, complex little creature.
I know it's not 100% canon, but I'm taking the assumed date of February 11th to be Dario's birthday so Dio can pontificate on it and his past with greater nuance now since we all know that his deepest fear is becoming his father :(On a lighter note, I do absolutely head canon that Dio speaks Latin (and possibly also Greek) fairly well, since it was more or less the standard back then, and him getting a law degree, he probably would have had to learn Latin and idk about you guys, but I think that is very, very sexy.
I also believe that, while he is naturally very smart, he also works very hard because of his constant need to prove himself as the best.Poor George, he's so lovely, but he really has no idea, does he? He has no idea what these two get up to :((( I really do love writing him though, I think he gets very overlooked and I love how, in the canon events, with his dying words he told JoJo not to blame Dio. He really does love his sons. At any rate, I'm pretty sure the manga (and maybe the anime as well) alluded to him being involved in trade, so that's what I'm running with to account for his travels and such.
Like I said, I ended up rewriting this chapter numerous times. I think I like it more now than the way I initially had, I just hope it stays that way. Sometimes I get a little pedantic about the things I want to express so this ended up getting a lot longer than I wanted it to be and if I'm honest, the next few chapters are just as long, if not longer, but I am pretty happy with how those turned out.
Anyway, thank you guys for reading and I hope this was enjoyable or at least comprehensible. I really do appreciate your patience with me and all of the kind comments and messages I get here and on my tumblr. I'm hoping to be a little more productive with my writing now that spring has officially arrived.
Chapter 37: Blue Valentine
Notes:
I hope the fact that this chapter is almost 12k words long will make up for the fact that I haven't posted in almost two months...
Anyway, CW for some minor discussion of sexual assault; we're finally discussing what Dio did to Erina.
(See the end of the chapter for more notes.)
Chapter Text
~February 14, 1889~
Time had begun to lose tangible meaning as the days passed slowly by in a swirl of domestic leisure complete with all the amenities that life in the lap of luxury afforded you. Strange as it felt to admit, staying at the Joestar mansion began to feel quite natural as you fell into a comfortable routine. You had grown accustomed to the wonderful meals and other fine frivolities you were provided in excess and the ample free time you had to explore the mansion was an added bonus. Many hours were spent reading books you’d never heard of, admiring the impressive collection of art that adorned the halls, or taking languid strolls around the grounds where your mind drifted into some nebulous imagination of what the gardens would look like alive with a kaleidoscope of color, but no matter the monotony of the day, every night you’d find your body wound tightly around Dio’s, in the secrecy of his bedroom. Your affairs were nearly silent as you indulged in the brief moments you had alone. Only unintentional breathy sighs and the shifting of your bodies against the sheets could be heard in the heavy quiet of the night. Slow and controlled were all of Dio’s movements as he rutted into you, leaving your body scorching beneath his, sworn to agonizing silence to keep from capturing any unwanted listeners. You remained cautious of each sound that escaped you, the inhibitions only amping up your desires. Though you were never left unsatisfied, these restrained affairs left you wanting for the unbridled passion the privacy of your flat allowed for. The desire to be thrown into the bed and toyed with until your mind went blank and your body was near unusable without the persistent worry of being heard was more than tantalizing. But for the time being, these clandestine rendezvous would have to suffice.
So it came to be that deep within the tender embrace of midnight when all else in the mansion was silent and still, Dio had taken it upon himself to offer you the fullest display of his veneration for your body, the slow cascade of his hands over your skin was enough to set you ablaze, burning a flame he intended to stoke well into the early morning hours of Thursday.
“Lay back,” he instructed, firmly, but with adoration dripping from each breathy word as his large hands gripped the hem of your nightgown and lifted it over your head before your body softly complied, shifting lower on the mattress to meet where Dio waited, his tremendous frame only appeared more imposing as he leaned on his knees with a shrewd, enticing glimmer in his eyes as though he already divined your dormant desires.
‘Open your legs,’ would have been his next command, but before he had been able to speak the words, you had already tacitly obeyed, “there you go,” he purred with the slyest of grins as he watched your limbs stretch to accommodate the familiar position he was vying for.
Dio hummed smoothly in both playful amusement and ardent lust once your supple body was made visible to him in the milky refulgence of the gibbous moon. The eager sigh that escaped your lips once you had noticed his examination prompted him to then begin his descent along your body, kissing down the curve of your waist and over the ridge of your hip bones until he finally nestled himself between your legs. Even in the velvety blackness of the room, you could faintly see the sparkle in his eyes as his tongue grazed along the hollow of your inner thighs before he devoured you.
Though he was yet to reach your cunt, you, in your state of desirous fervor, had already clamped your palm over your mouth to preemptively quash the undignified mewls that you could feel rising in the back of your throat.
Leisurely, Dio enjoyed the tiny, inhibited gasps that managed to breach the barricade of your hand and the subtle sweetness that lingered perpetually on your skin as he sunk his teeth experimentally into the plush flesh of your thigh, sucking just enough to leave a lasting red impression where his lips had been. The squeak that eked past your lips seemed a symphony for his ears alone to delight in. His lips curled into a smirk when the pads of his fingers traced the line of your sex, warm and already slick with need, his eagerness could not be staved off any longer, so it was in one fluid action that he cupped your hips and pulled you into a more agreeable position until you were lined up squarely with his face.
With the same delicate precision one would use when pruning a flower, he allowed his tongue to lave over your sex, drinking in the heady taste that was the essence of your adoration for him. He had so contented himself between your legs that he was determined to remain there as long as possible, savoring you as only the finest of wines money could provide, in this way, he made certain that any needs that may have gone unsatisfied over the course of your quiet residence in the mansion would now be met in spades.
Quickly he escalated his efforts, broadly lapping everywhere his tongue found it suitable to go until he had his fill. He heeded little, the intensity with which your body squirmed in tandem with his ministrations.
“Dio, shit—” you squealed and mindlessly groped between your thighs with your free hand to find purchase in the silky locks of his hair.
The grip you found was harsh, forceful and nearly violent as you tugged on the flaxen tresses, but he could only hum in approbation for your vehemence. “Oh, my sweet, sweet girl, I believe that you are the most delectable thing to ever grace my lips,” he crooned lasciviously and punctuated the remark with another lazy lick between your sticky folds, nonetheless, his statement had been true. To him, you were a delicacy beyond his wildest imagination, sweet and decadent, something that ought to be indulged in properly and this show of exaltation would serve to reinforce that you belonged unassailably to him.
Before you could adjust to his ministrations, he pulled away and laid a kiss on your still neglected clit with a glint of mischief dancing in the molten citrine of his eyes, that dangerous look you’d come to adore, especially when it heralded him to be far more generous with his actions.
Only then could you perceive the subtle movements that led to him slowly dipping two thick fingers inside of you. From there, little could be done to lessen the lewd squelch of your wetness that permeated the room each time his digits pumped into you. The newfound stimulation ravaged you like a shockwave and only redoubled when you felt him move to the apex of your sex, tentatively swirling his deft tongue over your clit at first, then suckling voraciously at the swollen little bud.
“God,” you cried out suddenly, breaking the last shred of reticence the night held, you pressed your hand more tightly over your mouth to muffle any other of your shamelessly lewd exclamations as your neck craned back against the flat of the mattress.
“Cum for me, my little darling,” he insisted with his fingers still knuckle deep in your cunt, the movements of his lips only served to further goad you towards your orgasm with each subsequent crooning word spoken, made evident by the way your walls clamped around him, begging him to proceed.
Your face scrunched into a tight grimace and your body went rigid, feeling so close to coming undone that you could hardly form a cohesive thought, let alone control the way you clutched desperately at his hair with enough force to pull loose a few errant strands. You bleated out a few shaky words of ovation in a syncopated melody with his name, helpless to do anything else. Dio made no attempt to temper the zealous way his lips smacked against your pussy, careening you full-throttle over the edge on which you had teetered, but for all the white-hot pleasure that befell you, it was merely a glimpse of what was to come.
Greedily, hungrily he ate you through your orgasm until you were nothing more than a trembling mess. Unremitting in his approach and determined to see to it that you would thoroughly unravel beneath his touch in a way no one but he, Dio, could ever replicate.
Your unsteady hips rolled against his face in a graceless and indiscriminate rhythm as you rode out the fleeting embers of your pleasure until at last, you were left awash with nothing short of sanctified satisfaction, finally able to come back to earth after he pulled away just enough observe how effective his conquest had been. “Happy Valentine’s Day, dear,” Dio said in an audacious display of coquetry, looking up at you with a salacious smirk spread across his lips and the glossy residue of your juices on his chin, “cum for me as many times as you please,” he said, drawing out his words in a tone that was as scandalous as it was serious before turning his attention back between your tottering thighs.
“Dio… Dio you don’t have to,” you stammered thoughtlessly, “I mean, I already—”
“Have you ever known me to do something I do not wish to do?” He asked, though it was not in truth a question, he was already resolved to remain in that position the entire night long if that was your want.
“I suppose not, but—” you mumbled then, feeling almost selfish for prompting his continuation.
“Then allow me to express to you the depths of my devotion,” he whispered, rasping his lips ever so slightly along your pelvis as he curled his fingers against the spot he always managed to find that made your mind go completely blank.
“Dio…”
“Shh, just tell me when you’ve had enough.”
You responded with only a tiny moan of approval accompanied by a tentative nod that could hardly be ascertained through the heavy cover of darkness, but it was all the consent he needed to continue.
He drew his fingers out of you, your cunt throbbed and ached from the sudden lack, and Dio, though he had already had more than his fill, made a good show of sucking all of your sticky arousal off of his fingers. The vulgar image caused a shudder to reverberate down the length of your spine, but you could not dwell on it for long when he resumed his efforts and negated any semblance of thought in your mind.
You let out a shrill gasp when he grabbed your thighs to spread them further to allow himself a more dominant approach. Fervently, he lapped the ample wetness that lingered from the first of what he intended to be numerous orgasms before the night was through.
His tactics remained unpredictable yet simultaneously practiced and methodical, as though every maneuver had been expertly contrived out of both his adoration and the ample experience he had garnered from your previous coital engagements. He alternated between drawing wild, swirling patterns over the whole of your sex and languidly dragging his tongue between your folds only to then suddenly begin flicking the tip of his tongue rapidly against your since neglected clit, there wasn’t a single approach you could cling onto and ride a consistent wave of satisfaction, instead, you were met with only ephemeral vacillations which lingered for mere tortuous seconds that worked you up to a state of agonizing rhapsody that resulted in your thighs squeezing at the sides of his head and your back rising into a shaky parabolic arc.
Dio swallowed your sweet taste and repressed moans alike, both delighted his senses to the brink of ecstasy, he could feel his erection pressed firmly between his stomach and the edge mattress, an ever-present reminder of the effect your carnal noises elicited from him, but it was an impulse he would not act on. This abstinence from his own desires was, in his own way, to evince his absolute dedication; he would prove to you that your pleasure was of paramount importance, he would show you that no matter how many partners had done this act for you before, they would all pale in comparison to him, he would satisfy you time and time again without the selfish need of pursuing his own to obstruct that objective.
He endeavored a velvety chuckle each time he felt the tremors of your climax echo through your quaking figure, every frenetic spasm and every stifled moan all only served to aggrandize him, inflating his despicably enormous ego as though your every reaction were a prize to be won and of course, Dio Brando was not one to lose.
In spite of your quavering, his efforts refused to pause. It was that positively maddening insistence, the ceaseless efforts of his ministrations, that left you entirely unspooled. The time between your orgasms became nearly indistinguishable and ultimately, though the distinction was virtually immaterial as the sensation left you a twitching mess of nerves either way. You were not precisely sure how many times you’d finished, but each time had brought you closer to religion than you’d ever felt, burning from the inside out in wild carnal glory, your restraint having been forsaken halfway between perdition and deliverance where you became ensnared by the sway of earthly delights.
“Dio— ah— I’m— fuck,” you babbled incoherently, your inability to construct a proper sentence left you with the momentary concern that he had indeed fucked you stupid.
“Oh there’s my good girl, cumming for me like the greedy slut she is, so brilliant,” he said while staring up at you with a dazed, feral look in his eyes as he watched your wetness trickle over the brim of your throbbing sex. Your whole body had been rendered a shaking, jittering mess. Each subtle movement of his tongue against your already overstimulated cunt was enough to cause you to writhe violently beneath him. You were absolutely certain that you had reached your body’s threshold, certain that you couldn’t possibly cum another time, but Dio was determined to coax another orgasm from you in spite of your body’s defiance.
And what a valiant effort he gave, lashing his tongue in rapid, intensely focused patterns. Swilling, sucking, lapping, utilizing every method at his disposal in precise synchronicity with the thrashing of your tired frame. God, you were always so easy, always so readable and earnest in your movements, outwardly he might’ve levied criticism over your so-called pitiful behavior, but truthfully, he reveled in every little reaction, expected or otherwise, seeing you thoroughly succumb to the throes of wanton pleasure was never not an exquisite sight to behold.
And there you were, softly keening as overstimulation ebbed into hot, violent pleasure, a vision for no one else but him. The sensation tore through you as though you were made of paper, but Dio, ever Machiavellian, was not content with anything less than a full display of his prowess. His fingers found your hole again, the sudden intrusion sent another convulsion through your center as your walls pulsed around him, accommodating the size.
Fuck, it was all too much, your limit had been so far exceeded that you were completely in his thrall, shaking and hysterical with tears beaded at the corners of your eyes. Every inch of your skin was alight with tingles, forcing you to respond to every slight swipe of his tongue with frenzied, unrestrained thrashing. An effervescent feeling bubbled in your core, familiar for the sheer inestimable times you’d felt the surge of orgasmic pleasure, but distinct in its own right.
Your hips then sputtered out in one final, profane, arhythmic display, the product of all his efforts culminating in a gush of clear fluid pouring from your tender cunt and spilling onto both his hand and the sheets below. Shit, even in your semi-lucid state, you were reasonably certain no one had ever made that happen before. Dio looked up at you with wild, fiery eyes, wordlessly confirming what he had already surmised of his own accord. He tentatively traced the pad of his thumb over your clit, the sensation sent a scourge of pinpricks down your spine and it took all you had left not to shriek his name from the torment of overstimulation. God, the whole scene was unquestionably brilliant, one he would carve forever in the annals of his memory.
Your face was smattered with drool from your desperate effort to remain quiet and your eyes were glazed over in a mixture of contentment and exhaustion. He finally abandoned his post between your legs and crawled to a more suitable spot near the head of the massive bed, pulling your pliant body with him and enveloping you in his arms.
Your entire body tingled, too sensitive to be touched any further. Even if Dio had the intention of fucking you, he would have found the act rather impossible with how incessantly you spasmed from even innocuous handling. Still, seeing you in such a way filled him with a lofty sense of pride.
“Is my darling lady satisfied?” He asked in a haughty, self-satisfied tone before nestling into the crook of your neck.
You managed only an inarticulate groan as a reply but it was more than a sufficient affirmation to bolster his feeling of triumph. Though you remained ever cognizant of the position of his hands, it took little effort for you to slip into sleep, swaddled gently by the glimmering matutinal haze of Valentine's Day.
The morning brought with it a lavender sky, spindles of light shone through heavy clouds like misty tendrils. A cool humidity hung in the air as you walked through the gardens, pondering, not a single flower was in bloom. The grounds were just starting to be speckled with green in anticipation of the oncoming spring. You had never paid much heed to Valentine’s Day, it wasn’t a particularly important holiday to you, yet you found yourself incapable of letting the day slip by without some gesture of your love. Besides, the return home had been harder on Dio than you had estimated, though it was not exactly something you could voice without him taking great offense, you thought, at the very least some kind of declaration of your love for him would raise his spirits.
So you sat under a barren trellis hoping an idea would come to you, but so far it hadn’t. You watched as the morning sun hid itself behind the wispy grey clouds when you were finally struck with something. You pulled yourself off and meandered back inside. Though you felt somewhat outré in doing so, you pestered a servant for some supplies which they humbly obliged you with, and after a great many thanks you gathered your things and took up in one of the well-lit rooms that bordered the garden which you assumed would have served as another parlor had the family been large enough to need one.
Working solely off memory you twisted and folded bits of brightly colored paper into delicate flowers until you had several little bouquets; deep purple irises for Sir Joestar, white daisies for Jonathan, and bright yellow daffodils for Dio. You tied each bouquet with a piece of satin ribbon and attached a handwritten note on a small piece of cardstock to each one. You thought vaguely that, had you more time, you may have been able to crochet the flowers, but with such short notice, you found your novice paper crafts quite sufficient. Once happy with how things turned out, you collected them all and took them to your bedroom where they could be kept until dinner.
Giving more thought to a preemptive romantic gesture, you landed on something a bit more readily within your skillset, so you wandered into the kitchen and after finding none of the cooks present, you decided it would be nice to bake something sweet for Dio. You had baked things before, and though he always complimented everything you made, you had drawn the conclusion that he wasn’t particularly big on sweets but unfortunately, sweets were your specialty. Your cooking was nothing to write home about but you’d always been proud of your bakery. You always felt baking to be akin to chemistry, and you found great fun in experimenting with different kinds of treats. You’d developed a particular talent for pies, but you had a feeling that might be a bit simple for Dio’s tastes. He would probably prefer something more sophisticated, and thankfully you had something that fit the bill, a dark chocolate raspberry cake topped with chocolate ganache, it was a particular recipe that you’d dad would make for your mom on special occasions. Your mom was also not particularly fond of sweets, but this was the one notable exception. It was a rather ambitious dessert, but you thought it would be worth the effort so long as Dio enjoyed it. You teetered between these two ideas, but finding yourself unable to make a decision, you instead went looking for Jonathan, having grown up with Dio, he would know more about his culinary preferences than you did.
Unable to find him in the house, you returned to the grounds. There, in the gardens, you saw Jonathan walking hand in hand with a beautiful blonde woman with the softest blue eyes you’d ever seen. Oh! You had no idea that Jonathan had a girlfriend, nor had thought you would unceremoniously run into them without a proper introduction. After accepting that your attempt to ascertain such privileged information had been futile, quickly made yourself scarce so as not to impose on their private affair.
Deciding you couldn’t possibly choose between the two desserts, you decided to simply make both. Not one to ever shy away from a challenge, you sorted through the array of cupboards and panties to gather the ingredients before you got to work. Meticulously working to perfect your cake and settling on a sweet and simple strawberry pie. Making pie crust felt like second nature, the motions deeply ingrained in your brain like the quadratic formula, or any number of useless equations you’d been made to memorize in school, a skill you would never be able to forget, even if you tried. The cake, however, did not come quite so easily, you had to rake through your memory to recall the proper measurements. Swirling thoughts of your dad’s hands melting dark chocolate over a pot of boiling on the stove. A bowl of fresh raspberries beside him on the counter and you standing on a chair, sheepishly sneaking several of the bright red fruits into your mouth. Your dad sent you the familiar gentle smile you could remember so definitively and ruffled your hair before pushing the bowl out of your reach. Recollecting those fleeting memories always left you overwhelmingly maudlin, the once overly saccharine reminiscences of childhood had grown acrid across the valleys of time. You considered what it would be like once your life became full of more memories from the 19th century than the one from which you belonged. You wondered if it would ever feel normal to live in a century that wasn’t your own or if you would always like an unwelcome transplant. At once, you were snapped from your daydreams by the slamming of the kitchen door, you spun around, nearly spilling the pie filling that had been cooling in a bowl on the counter, “oh, Miss, what are you doing in here?” The distraught voice of one of the cooks called.
“Oh, I’m so sorry!” You answered defensively, hurrying through the remainder of your tasks with a horrifyingly chagrined expression on your face. The cook maintained a plain appearance of cordiality but was quick to shuffle you out of the kitchen once your sweets were in the oven, providing you the assurance that she would take them out of the oven for you when they were done.
So, with nothing left to do, you traipsed through the dining room and back to the foyer in the hopes you would find Dio completed the discussion he was having with his father. Instead, you found yourself face to face with Jonathan, the pretty blonde girl you’d seen accompanying him in the gardens was still at his side. “Ah, good afternoon,” Jonathan began as a measure of good fellowship.
“Good afternoon, Jonathan, I hope you are having a lovely Valentine’s Day.”
“Thank you, it has been quite a lovely day, I hope yours is pleasant also and I hope Dio is treating you well.”
“Oh certainly, though he has been quite busy today, I think your father and he are conniving some grand plan in regards to his employment,” you said with a slightly forced chuckle, you noted how the girl seemed to pull away at the casual mention of Dio.
“Oh yes, I believe that is the case. Father is terribly proud of Dio’s academic accomplishments. I’m sure he will be a great success, as was the plan,” Jonathan added, though there was something unutterably blue in his otherwise pleasant voice
“Hey, I’ve heard talk of your fantastic accomplishments in archeology, that’s nothing to sneeze at. I’m sure your father is more than proud of you as well.”
He offered you a polite smile in return. “Yes, of course. Father is always more than kind, though I’m certain you are by now familiar with that.” A silence grew between the two of you and a stifling awkwardness permeated the room. “Oh, how horribly rude of me, I’ve forgotten my manners, allow me to introduce the two of you. This is Erina, she is my Valentine,” his last words were dragged out with a sweet croon, laced with boyish timidity, his affection for her evident, even to you, though the sudden utterance of name you had never put a face to had given you a start. Suddenly Dio’s behavior did not seem so unaccountable, if he had already been made aware of Erina’s presence, he would no doubt meet it with displeasure.
“Oh, Jonathan, I’m so happy for you!” You cheered, a bit overzealously as you patted his broad shoulder.
“And Erina, this is who I was telling you about, the girl that Dio has been courting, he brought her home with him when he returned this week.”
“Oh, it’s very nice to meet you, dear,” she said politely, but with a hint of reservation in her silvery voice.
“It’s nice to meet you as well, I hope I’ll get to know you better during my stay here… if you’re going to be spending time here as well,” you quelled the excitement you had in meeting someone new and refrained from asking a slew of questions that would likely put her off and certainly left her with au unfavorable impression of your manners.
“That sounds lovely, my father and I will be over for dinner tomorrow, perhaps I will see you then as well.”
“Oh certainly, Dio and I will both be there,” you said with an affirmative nod. She only forced another gentle smile and said nothing more as the silence began to grow again. You were grateful when the cook stepped from the kitchen to notify you that your desserts had finished baking so that you were offered an easy out of the conversation to alleviate the tension that was growing too common for you to bear.
“Well, she seems nice.” You could faintly hear Erina say once you’d headed down the hall “but, Dio…”
“I know, but he does seem like he’s trying. All the same… I can only hope he’s as good to her as she is to him.”
“Curious…” she muttered, glancing off in the direction you’d gone, calling into question all of the well-learned sensibilities she had heretofore accepted as unshakable truisms.
The afternoon was well underway by the time Dio finished his business with his father. He had been left feeling a bit downtrodden after his acceptance of his father’s requests and went looking for you. You were not in your room, not in his room, not in the library, nowhere he would have expected you to be. Slightly frustrated he decided you must’ve gone to the gardens, only to unfortunately run into Jonathan on his way back from the Pendleton’s.
“Good afternoon, Dio,” Jonathan greeted his brother all the joy the day warranted.
“My, Jonathan, you seem rather chipper,” Dio responded without a shred of the same sweetness in his tone.
“Of course, it is quite a lovely day after all. And it seems we are in for an early spring.”
“Now JoJo, you needn’t play coy,” Dio said harshly, each world laced with a slick, assuming arrogance.
“Whatever do you mean?” Jonathan responded, taking no heed to the virulent notes of Dio’s voice.
Dio scoffed rather crudely, after such an arduous day filled with hours of fastidious planning, his patience had worn razor thin, “I know that your cherished Erina has returned.”
“Yes, Dio, she is. Though I’m not sure what it means to you.”
“Really JoJo, can I not be happy for my dear brother? You and she have always made such a lovely couple, even in youth and the waxing years do not seem to have dulled the sparkle.”
“I do remember that you did everything in your power to tear us apart,” Jonathan’s tone had fallen low and solemn, devoid of any previous mirth that had once been offered.
“Now really, must we dwell on such ancient history, JoJo? I’m sure my darling lady would love it if we all got on well together,” Dio said, assuming far too blasé a manner for Jonathan’s liking.
“No, that is not your place to say, Dio.”
“Oh, and what do you mean by that, JoJo?”
Jonathan let out a deep sigh “Dio, I am glad that you have made the choice to become a better person, as such I will grant you as much grace as I can, but I will not force Erina to forgive you, she doesn’t even have to see you if she doesn’t want to. That is the promise I made to her, and I will not break it for the sake of civility.” Jonathan held to his stern appearance, knowing well that he would have to firmly draw this line in the sand if it meant protecting the person he held most dear to him
“Now JoJo, that was all such a dreadfully long time ago, I’m sure she—”
“No, Dio, that is not for you to decide. Just because you’re sorry doesn’t mean the pain you caused wasn’t real, especially to Erina.”
Before he could gather the words, Dio’s face twisted into an ugly, unbecoming scowl, “do you think I that I don’t know how awful a thing it was to do? It was wicked and cruel and— and I was wrong to do it. If I had the choice to undo it, I would. After all that I’ve told you, you of all people should know that what I say is true.”
“But you can’t change it, you need to come to terms with the fact that not everyone is going to forgive you. You’ve been lucky thus far, finding a girl who is so accepting of you, and with father, even with me, but you are not owed forgiveness by anyone, and it will be Erina’s choice whether she forgives you or not. If she decides that she wants nothing to do with you, then so it shall be.”
“Would you really go so far as to shut me out of your life, what happened to all that talk of goodwill?”
“Of course I would and wouldn’t you?” Jonathan’s face softened and he placed one of his large hands on Dio’s shoulder. “That girl in there, you’re telling me that if you knew someone hurt her, that you wouldn’t do anything in your power to protect her, to make sure she never had to feel that again?”
“That is different,” Dio said bluntly.
“Is it?” Jonathan asked in complete earnest, a raised eyebrow accompanied the piercing gaze of his deep blue eyes that looked on cautiously. “What would you say if you were to learn someone had done to your little lady, all that you did to my dearest Erina, can you really insist that you would have acted any different than I?"
Dio pondered the idea scornfully. He did not much like this game Jonathan was playing, it felt a sort of polite torture, but Dio did know your past, enough of it, at least, to make the suggestion rather distasteful, enough to know that he wished for you the same security that you granted him. “I suppose I would think that you let me off rather easy with only a bloodied nose and some bruises.”
“Precisely Dio, the love that you now have for her is the love I had for Erina then, I would have done anything to keep her safe and I would do the same now.”
“Do not compare your childhood dalliance to the romance that saved my mortal soul.”
“I mean no affront, Dio, the love I had for Erina then is the same that I have for her now. I believe that the love you share is just as profound as ours. That is why I hope you can understand my misgivings.”
“I suppose I can, but remember, we are a family, whether or not either of us would like to admit it, and I intend to make my girl a part of our family, if you intend to do the same with Erina then you’d ought to make nice for Father’s sake.”
“I have never known you to do anything for Father’s sake, Dio, and though do not prefer to sew discord among out family, I will do whatever it is that Erina is comfortable with, and if that means keeping you away from her, then I shall, regardless of the tensions that arise and you will simply have to live with it as the consequences of the choices you made.”
Dio gritted his teeth and realized he was once again fighting a losing battle. Jonathan was steadfastly determined, and in all his years of knowing the man, he knew that he was not easily deterred.Gentle and agreeable under most circumstances, but immutable on certain things that mattered most to him. And Dio knew that formidable disposition well. Just as he had that morning in your flat, he admired that quality in Jonathan even though he recalled how it had caused them to butt heads more than once in their youth, though he knew that he was not without some of the blame when to their squabbles. In fact, only inwardly could he admit that he probably held most of the blame, but it mattered little now that he had so thoroughly sought absolution.
“But, I can see that you’re trying, so I will do what I can, but I will not make you any lofty promises. It will be her decision to forgive you or not.”
“That is so like you, JoJo” Dio scoffed, unsure of what, if anything, there was left to be said.
“Just know that I do it for the sake of that lovely girl of yours and not only for you,” Jonathan said, half-heartedly joking before he tentatively grasped Dio’s arm in what was meant as a kindly gesture but it left Dio feeling desperate for retreat, “I will speak with Erina and so long as she isn’t against it, I will arrange a time when you can apologize to her. I think she deserves it the most.” Dio chose not to respond. Instead choosing to wallow in what he considered another defeat at the hands of Jonathan Joestar. “Now, Dio, it is Valentine’s Day, after all and truthfully I am surprised to find you alone.”
“Ah, yes, I only came out here in the first place in search of my dearest girl.”
“Oh, well when last I saw her she was headed to the kitchen. I do believe you’ll find her there. She appeared to be making something special for you, whatever it was, it smelled quite delicious. You are quite the lucky man, I hope you’ve arranged something special for her as well.”
“Hmph, do you question my capabilities?”
“Perhaps not, but I do know you’re rather green in the area of genuine romance.”
“I will have you know that I am perfectly able and more than willing to make sure my lovely girl is satisfied.”
“Ah, so you do have something special planned.”
“Perhaps I do,” Dio said coldly and curtly, he did not much care to indulge the interrogation any further.
“And Dio, preferably nothing carnal.”
“JoJo…” Dio hissed in flagrant displeasure over his brother’s unseemly insinuation. Jonathan only laughed off Dio’s indignation and firmly placed his hand on his shoulder to usher Dio towards the kitchen. “JoJo, you need not pretend that we are friends.”
“I would not pretend, Dio.”
“Hmph, I find it hard to believe you’d be so eager to befriend me.”
“I told you before, Dio, I do not want to hate you. If it is possible, I would like us to be friends. I know that it will take time. For both of us. But I am open to the idea, I can see how hard you are working to make amends and it is admirable and I appreciate the effort.”
Dio scoffed to conceal the incredulity he felt, but a cough caught in his throat. “What could you mean by that, JoJo?”
“The watch, Dio, I can’t see any other reason why you’d return it to me if not as a token of your goodwill.”
Dio cast a strained look at Jonathan, he hadn’t quite counted on a confrontation, nor had he hoped that the gesture would result in a kind of patronizing commendation. “It was yours to begin with.”
“Certainly, but it’s been eight years since you took it. I had nearly forgotten about it until I saw it at my bedside. I believe you meant it to be indicative of a fresh start between us and though I can’t exactly forget everything that has transpired between us, I am more than willing to offer you another chance. As your brother and as your friend I hope you will take it.”
Dio gazed forward and faced the door. His already wounded pride ached from yet another defeat, but Jonathan remained diligently at his side until a response was given, a gentle smile on his face. “Alright, JoJo. You win, I do believe it was symbolic of my intention to mend all that I have broken.”
“It’s not about winning, Dio, I meant it in earnest. I am accepting your attempt to make amends, I can forgive you for the things you have done to me, and in due time I’d be glad to consider you a friend, but I cannot forgive you in anyone else’s stead. You understand, don’t you?”
“Yes, I believe I do.”
“Now, why don’t you see what your dear girl has made for you?”
“JoJo…” Dio said contemptuously and tried to break from his brothers overly affable grasp.
“And whatever it is, save some for me,” Jonathan added with a genial wink, perhaps it was all he could do to return a modicum of the levity that had been lost.
Before he could say anymore, Jonathan took himself upstairs and hurried down the hall, out of sight. Dio sighed, putting the entire interaction with Jonathan aside and headed toward the kitchen where he found you biding time in the dining room. “Oh, there you are, my darling,” he declared upon seeing you and gallantly strode to your side and beckoned you into his arms.
“I’ve missed you all day,” you muttered as you threw your arms around his neck and lifted yourself to your tiptoes to deliver one soft kiss on his cheek.
“Oh, I’m sorry my dear, how awful of me to keep such a precious thing waiting.”
“You should be sorry, leaving me all by my lonesome in this big house, how cruel.”
“Well, I’m certain you of all people would be able to find something to pass the time.”
“I suppose,” you said with a click of your tongue, mocking his usual indifference, “now, come on, it’s time for your Valentine’s present.”
Without another word, you took his hand and turned toward the kitchen where the spoils of your efforts waited for him.
“Well, well, what could you have prepared, I wonder,” he mused, though his mind drifted somewhere more salacious than where reality lie, that much was evident by the way he moved his hand to your lower back as you walked slowly down the hallway.
“It’s a surprise,” you replied sweetly with just a hint of cheek to temper the atmosphere.
He leaned over and whispered into your ear in a smooth, low drawl, “unfortunately for you, my love, Jonathan has already spoiled your little surprise.”
“No way, he told you? I can’t believe him!”
“I know, the nerve of him,” Dio snickered and pinched your cheek.
“Well, it isn’t going to be as fun now,” you sulked, your sweet face fell into a mopey pout that Dio found entirely too adorable to take seriously and felt compelled to kiss the soft pink flush of your cheeks.
“I’m sure whatever you made will still be delicious, even if my uncivilized brother has vitiated some of your charming intentions.”
“Fine,” you huffed in begrudging acceptance and led him fully into the kitchen.
“My, now what have we here?”
“I couldn’t decide between the two, so I just made both,” you beamed, gesturing to the two treats in front of you, “I figured someone as wonderful as you may deserve a bit of over-indulgence from time to time.”
“All of this for me?” He asked, putting on an over-the-top act of surprise to please you, though it came out rather cheesy.
“Of course, I believe this handsome gentleman has been known to enjoy something sweet.”
“Oh, but my darling, have we not already established that there is nothing sweeter than you?”
“You flatter me too much.”
“Nonsense, it’s nothing if not true,” his arms coiled around your stomach and locked you firmly against the imposing structure of his body and let his chin come to rest on your shoulder until his lips were dubiously close to your ear, “and I do recall being told that flattery would get me everywhere.”
“Oh, and where are you hoping it gets you tonight?”
“Anywhere with your legs straddled around me while you gasp my name in that mellifluous little voice of yours,” he said as he spun you around to face him, letting his hands travel down your waist to wherever they pleased in a rather lewd display of intimacy that would’ve been unwelcome to any spectators.
“Rather ungentlemanly of you, Dio Brando, what would someone say if they saw us?”
“Unfortunately my darling, I think they’re all already well aware after the weekend.”
“I think we’ve been rather covert…”
“Have we?”
You felt your feet leave the ground as Dio lifted you onto the counter. Lightly, he caressed your inner thighs until your legs parted for him. He ground against you, you could feel him begin to harden and on any other occasion he would have felt compelled to have you right there, caring little about who may happen to walk in and see, but Jonathan’s words stewed angrily in his head. Of course his affections for you transcended mere carnal desires. Really, sex was just a bonus on top of the splendid companionship you already offered him and though he enjoyed it, it was never the principal reason for pursuing a relationship with you, if he had just wanted to fuck you, he was certain he could have done so without much regard for your feelings and been on his way, onto whatever scheme he next designed and never looked back. No, in you Dio had found so much more than a lover, something so frighteningly beguiling that he could never be without it. How crude it was of JoJo to even suggest anything different.
“I… I think… so…” the words came out as a sultry groan that contradicted your declaration.
“Hmm, three sweet things in front of me, which shall I try first?”
“The choice belongs to you,” you purred, satisfied in knowing that, whichever he chose, his conquest of you would be inevitable. But his next actions came as a surprise. Delicately, Dio eased you down from the counter and into his arms where he held you soft against his chest. One hand rested lightly over the small of your back while the other laced into your hair. His large hand cupped the back of your head and gently urged you to look up at him. The golden depths of his eyes seemed alight with a soft glow rather than the burning ardor you would’ve expected.
“I simply adore you,” he said, his words were soft and genuine, quite unusual from his usual mordant inflection.
“And I, you,” you replied, emphasizing the sentiment by pulling him in for a tight embrace, “never forget that I was the one who initiated this relationship.”
“And that was a folly on my part. I should have never tried to run from something so obviously perfect for me.”
“You… do you really think that?” You asked in a more diffident manner than your pride would’ve hoped to express, but you nuzzled against him nonetheless.
“I most certainly do,” he raised your hand to his lips and kissed it tenderly. “I cherish you to the fullest of my capabilities and pray it is enough to demonstrate the extent of my devotion to you.”
You cupped his cheek and gently trailed your thumb back and forth along his delicate ivory skin, “you are always enough for me. I see how hard you try to be better than your worst. Even when it’s hard, you’re still trying and that means so much to me.” You ran your fingers through his hair and leaned up to press a kiss reverently on his forehead, it required a somewhat awkward stretch, it captured your intentions in all their, perhaps somewhat misguided nobility. “Now, won’t you enjoy your presents? I made them just for you.”
Dio placed a single kiss on the top of your head as he rubbed your shoulders before turning his attention to the desserts. He looked at the intricate latticework of the pie, the crust outlined with cutouts of hearts. “Quite skillful, but I know how adept you are with your hands.”
“That’s what years of agonizing over titrations gets you.”
“Oh, and how lucky am I to reap the benefits?”
“I don’t know, why don’t you ask me again later.” A mischievous smirk stretched across your face in full awareness of your audacious implication. The sink in his face matched yours, but somehow contradictory he coupled with his heavy-lidded gaze as he kissed you again. “Now, would you like your dessert before or after dinner?”
“Perhaps both,” he crooned as his hands lightly roamed your body, less suggestively than usual, but still enticing.
“My, I didn’t realize you had such a sweet tooth.”
“Only when it comes to yours,” he said as a casual admission, though the slightly lecherous implication still persisted over the genuine admiration he had for your baking skills.
“We could share with your family if you’d like.”
He scoffed, his tone bordering on offended that you could even suggest he share something that rightfully belonged to him with JoJo, but he restrained himself from saying anything nasty, “I will consider it.”
Shaking off the annoyance he’d disguised as playfulness, he cut into the cake and placed a small slice on a plate. You watched him intently as he took a small bite from the spoon. “Do you love it?” You asked, somehow you always felt a bit nervous when Dio tried your cooking. It wasn’t for lack of confidence in your ability, but possibly the fear that you would not meet his impossibly high standards. You knew that he loved you but you also knew that he would not be dishonest in his opinion, while for you he may maintain a level of tact that would not be granted to others, he would not lie if something did not suit his tastes. He was not one to needlessly give praise where he found it undue, so you waited with bated breath as the silver utensil passed his lips.
“It’s quite good,” he said with a stone-faced expression that left your eyes pleading for greater insight, “no, very good. Very good indeed.” He spooned another bit of cake and offered it to you, “here, taste,” he commanded in a smooth, cajoling tone.
You opened your mouth as he guided the spoon past your lips. Something in the action caused your cheeks to light up with a warm rosy glow that was impossible to hide. He patronizingly ran the back of his finger against your flushed skin as you swallowed, feeling the heat that bloomed beneath his touch. Satisfied that even such a minor action could work you up to the point of simmering embarrassment, he relinquished his efforts and finished his slice of cake. “Your cooking never fails to impress me, I am a lucky man indeed,” he mused, once again remembering what Jonathan had said. Before anything else could be accomplished, sensual, affectionate, or otherwise, you both were ushered out of the kitchen so the cooks could prepare dinner.
Dio strode through the hall and up the stairs in what you’d assumed would’ve been a beeline for his bedroom for a late afternoon tryst before everyone sat down for dinner so he could adequately thank you for the sweets, but your expectations were subverted when he turned away from his room altogether and headed for the balcony at the end of the hall. The terrace was just as pretty as you remembered, though markedly less elegant bereft of the fine tea setting, but the dwindling light of the sky cast an Elysian glow upon the expansive landscape. You sat idly at the table for a while and gazed out across the expanse of the Joestar estate and listened as Dio poetically discussed some vague plans for his future employment. He drifted between slight annoyance at the need to conduct so many interviews and genuine gratitude that his father had gone through the trouble of making such arrangements.
In the cool haze of the February evening, you noticed two shaky silhouettes far across the heath. Only tentatively did you assume them to belong to Erina and Jonathan. “So that's Erina,” you said wistfully, gazing over the balcony into the sunset, watching the two indistinct figures as they approached the mansion.
“Yes, so it seems she has returned.”
You paused, you did not want to avoid the situation any longer but at the same time, you also didn’t want to back Dio into a corner either. Dio had only vaguely discussed the actions that had transpired so many years before. Even before he’d made an effort to make amends with Jonathan, the situation seemed to carry with it a degree of unpleasantness that had left a sour taste in Dio’s mouth. Truthfully, he’d always considered it one of his greatest failures. He thought stealing Erina’s first kiss away from JoJo would’ve felt better than it had, like an unmitigated triumph. But the scorn held in her eyes when she looked at him, a vehement hatred that knotted his stomach relentlessly had tarnished what should’ve been a grandiose victory. The defiance she showed, so unwilling to cower from him like he thought she would, had burned him. It made him seethe with such a violent, uncontrollable fury that in a moment in which he had been seized by such virulent malevolence, he fully gave into the rage which, from then in, consumed him, and struck her. It was a disturbing reminder that he was no better than his good-for-nothing father. So easy it had been for him to be brought to that point, to lose his temper, to hurt her. He’d seen his father do it so many times. To his mother. To him. And for all the pain it had caused him, he was no better. The beating he took from Jonathan only served as further humiliation. What an awful memory it was for him to hold and a terrible reminder of the fragility of the line that he walked between overcoming the past that had haunted him so viscerally and succumbing to it entirely.
“Did you love her?” You blurted out, that hadn’t been what you intended to say, but it’s obviously what you meant as it spilled indignantly from your lips.
“No,” he responded with an inhibited, forlorn intonation accompanied by a deeply pensive expression, “I hadn’t even known her, I suppose that makes what happened all the worse,” he said, gripping the railing of the balcony so tightly his knuckles turned a ghastly shade of white.
“Dio, it’s okay, if you feel up to it, we can talk about it if you want to. Just know that I will still love you, no matter what you tell me,” you said softly, placing a hand palliatively on his shoulder.
“Everything is quite alright,” he said in a way that left even himself unconvinced, “but it seems Erina still hasn’t forgiven me for what happened, and Jonathan is determined to keep her away from me if she so chooses.”
“I can’t say I blame her, or him for that matter.”
“You are supposed to be on my side, are you not?” He snapped acrimoniously.
“Of course I’m on your side, I’m just saying— Dio, you know what you did was wrong, don’t you?”
“I most certainly do, I have made notion that abundantly clear to JoJo when last we spoke. I simply find it foolish to continue to make such a fuss over it, they have resumed their romance all the same, everything has turned out for the better, and really, it was just a kiss after all.”
“You know that isn’t true and you knew it back then too, you knew it meant far more than that, that’s why you did it,” you said, trying to keep your voice steady despite the growing agitation. Dio frowned at you, he had expected the conversation with JoJo to be fruitless, but with you… he had thought you of all people would be the one to unyieldingly understand his perspective and bestow him with the necessary commiseration he desired. Then again, as much as it pained him to admit, he knew you were not incorrect in your assessment, that was exactly why he had done it. Your face held a solemn expression as you took his hand, still making the effort to painstakingly select each word with the utmost care and consideration, “Dio, you have to understand why Erina would be hesitant to see you again after you forced yourself on her.”
The words left Dio taken aback, hearing you say that— it stung like a knife lodged in his chest, it was as if he had not quite grasped the gravity of the situation in its entirety. Your vehement reproach left him utterly aghast and in his bewilderment, he struggled to overcome the dryness that had suffused throughout his throat and caught any plausible response, “I didn’t— I didn’t force myself—”
“You did.”
With mind racing, he sank to the floor of the balcony with his head hidden in his hands. He— he did, didn’t? He hated to remember such a pitiful failure. He hated to remember it even more to hear it retold in all its veracity from your mouth. Such a useless endeavor it all had been, if it ended so abysmally, then it had all been for nothing. Through the lens of his new perspective and perhaps a degree of newfound respect for Jonathan, he was able to view the situation differently than he had before and felt nothing short of disgusted with himself, “you know that I would never— that I would never have gone any further…”
“I know.”
“I just wanted to hurt Jonathan, I didn’t intend…”
“I know.”
“I would have never, I-I would never, I only wished to, I…”
“Dio, I know.”
“I was… god, I was awful,” he said finally, biting the side of his finger to stop his hand from shaking as reality in all its dismal hues set in, “how could I have done such a horrendous thing?”
You sat down beside him and leaned his head onto your shoulder to soothe the unwelcome stress that had gathered in the lines of his eyes, “you were unhappy and you were hurting, so you took it out on people who did not deserve it. I think that you were jealous of anyone you thought had it better than you, especially Jonathan. I think you wanted to make him feel as miserable as you did.”
He nodded slightly, incapable of handling the onslaught of contradictory emotions that were at war inside his mind. “I was such a pathetic, miserable person, I’ve been a miserable person for the entirety of my life. It seems as though you were the only good thing to come out of all that misery,” he said in a hushed, reverent voice, suddenly no more courageous than a timid child, fearing the consequences of his chicanery. You leaned over and kissed him in silent affirmation, there was something so inexplicably beautiful when he spoke to you with unrestrained honesty, perhaps it was because you felt as though you had earned it through all your many hours of devotion, or perhaps it was because you knew it was a privilege that was only ever willingly awarded to you. “Please, forgive me.”
“I’m not the person you need to be asking forgiveness from.”
“I know, but knowing you must associate me with something so dreadful… I wish it wasn’t so,” he rubbed his forehead in consternation, feeling the pangs of a headache returning. “I need you to know that I would never hurt you.”
Delicately, you let yourself touch his face and leaned your head against his. “Dio, I’ve accepted you as you are from the moment I met you, I loved you then and I haven’t stopped. The bad things you’ve done are part of you, but they aren’t the whole picture, not anymore, you are so much more. Don’t think for a second that there is anything from your past that would dissuade me from loving you but I want us to be able to talk openly about these things.”
Dio leaned his head back against the iron balustrades of the balcony and let out a deep, sigh of consternation, “I am incredibly fortunate to have you,” he said quietly and let his hand grace your skin, "I would kill to keep you safe.”
“Well, let’s hope it never comes to that.”
He gave a low chuckle, unsure if he merely found your response amusing or if he had been instinctively trying to downplay the severity of his confession in spite of its invariable truth. In the sanctity of the moment, he pulled you into his arms to remind himself of how wonderful it was to be loved as the sun slowly began to set in brilliant shades of amber and wine. He cherished the security he felt with you. It was something he hadn’t thought quite possible to know. Perhaps unknowingly, all his life he had been searching for that monotonously pleasant kind of safety that was unquestionably dependable. He did not have to worry about being hurt. He did not have to worry if the things he loved would still be there. If it hadn’t been so strange he may have been able to take it for granted, but as of yet it remained a jarring kind of adoration. He thought, perhaps, that his lust for power and riches may have been born from an unquenched desire to build the kind of everlasting security that no one would be able to take from him. A castle or a prison. It didn’t matter. The rest of the world be damned because they could never know him. They could never understand the hell that was his childhood. They could never accept the jagged, ugly edges he’d so desperately tried to mask. He had never thought that someone could meaningfully know him on a level he would deem intimate, but then there was you. An ostensible anomaly in every way. Perfect for him. The paragon of both a lover and a companion. Years of barriers and locks had been built to guard him and in the twinkling of an eye, you set him free. You showed him the world was brilliant and soft, and that there was goodness in all things and most importantly, in him and you did it all with ease and grace.
He remained there at your side, wordlessly in deep contemplation and it was only after several minutes that you rose to your feet and with the offering of your hand, he did the same.
The walk to the dining room was silent. Dio’s mind was riddled with a tension that verged on a headache, one he hoped the wine at dinner would quell. He tried to lead you to the table, but before he could you had turned and run back towards the stairs. “I’ll be back, I almost forgot something,” you called as you rushed to your room to retrieve the tiny bouquets of paper flowers. Dio only looked at you with a raised eyebrow and rushed you into the dining room. You placed the delicate bouquet of paper daffodils in the hand before he could pull out your chair at the table. “These are for you,” you said with that soft coquettish smile you always had when giving him something you made. He gingerly took the bouquet with an apprehensive scowl. “I-I like making paper flowers because they last longer than real ones,” you hummed, still observing his unchanged expression. “A-and daffodils make me happy and they remind me of your pretty blond hair and you make me happy too… so… I… you know, made them… for you.” He looked over the flowers, the vibrant, sunny yellow paper curled tightly into ruffled petals. They were marvelously crafted, he always held a degree of wonderment for the things your hands were so lovingly able to create. “I also made these for your father and Jonathan,” you added sheepishly as you held out the other bouquets, wishing he would offer some other kind of acknowledgment and thinking how may have seemed rather childish.
He took the other bouquets and placed them at their proper place settings. He returned to you and brushed your hair to one side so he could lightly kiss your shoulder over the fabric of your dress. “They are lovely,” he feigned a smile that masked a brewing discomfort he felt too disillusioned to put into words. “I love you, my wonderful little darling.” He made a motion to kiss you but stopped when the shapes of his father and Jonathan came into view.
“Good evening everyone,” he announced affably as he eyed the flowers.
“I-I made them, for everyone… for Valentine’s Day,” you trailed off a little shyly, only just considering you may have overstepped in your familiarity. You weren’t even certain of the customs applicable to a Victorian Valentine’s Day.
“You made them?” He questioned, holding up the flowers and brushing the petals between delicate fingers. “Quite thoughtful of you.” He remarked. Jonathan too looked over the flowers and the attached note. “I heard from our dear cook that you were baking as well.”
“Oh… yes, I hope that was okay.”
“Surely, you are a guest here, you may do as you please.”
Dio gallantly slung his arm around your shoulders, reassuming his more brash persona. “She is such a thoughtful little thing, is she not?” He beamed, loving every opportunity he had to boast about you. You were something he deemed worthy of showing off; you were intelligent, beautiful, kind, and a whole host of other wonderful qualities. Anyone would be so lucky as to find themselves in the enviable position that he did.
“Quite so,” his father responded, “I am beyond pleased that you have found someone so well-fitted to you."
“Hm, and I think the sharing of your sweets would be an excellent way of showing your gratitude.”
“I would not push my luck, JoJo,” Dio sneered, but the rest of the room only responded in hearty laughter.
Dinner was served and conversations carried in amiably. George talked at length about an important dinner party he was holding the following evening, he expected everyone to attend and be on their best behavior, emphasizing the importance when he ran through a litany of distinguished guests including the Pendletons who were meant to be in attendance.
Once dinner was completed and several exchanges of good wishes for Valentine’s Day were reiterated, everyone returned to their chambers for the evening. You paced your floor eagerly waiting for silence to permeate the halls of the mansion. Your anticipation grew with each passing minute, thinking of the romantic fervor you would be tangled in once the night fell.
You stared in the mirror as you pulled on the tiny white dress that Dio had insisted you bring. Flagrantly inappropriate for anything other than what you had assumed Dio was intent on doing to you in it. You tied the bow at the back in a way that accentuated your waist perfectly. To keep your little surprise a secret for just a bit longer, you donned a silky robe that covered anything that may be improper for the eye of anyone but your beloved.
Sneaking out of your room in a sly hush, you crept through the corridors like a fox until you came to Dio’s room. Strangely, you could not see any light from underneath the door as was typical, but you let yourself in any way. You found him on his bed, cloaked in the shadow of the night, a book spread open, but abandoned face down in his lap as he stared at you with an unexpected scowl. You attempted to bring levity to a situation that had ended up being far more awkward than you bargained for. “I… I thought you might want a little treat to end this lovely Valentine’s Day with,” you mused as you undid the tie from your robe and let it fall to the floor so you stood before him in only the meager dress he had found so enticing the weekend prior. You smoothed a fabric down your body to invite him to enjoy you however he saw fit, but he made no move at all. You crawled into his bed and leaned over him, giving him a soft, but highly suggested kiss on the corner of his mouth. “I was thinking, since you were so generous this morning, that you’d like the favor to be returned. So why don’t you take what’s yours? You can do whatever you want tonight.”
“Not tonight,” he said with a brusque growl that verged on irritation.
So stunned had you been by his response that you fell back into the bed behind you. “Y-you don’t… want me?” You stammered with your mind boggled by defining thoughts of inadequacy.
“Not tonight,” he reiterated, more cool and direct than the first time.
“Did I do something?” You asked, swallowing hard to avoid the embarrassing display of emotions you felt bubbling up within your chest.
Lightly he reached his hand over and caressed the length of your body, your lithe body was undeniably enticing in such a revealing garment, but any thought of lovemaking was furthest from his thoughts. “I am not feeling particularly up to it tonight. I have much on my mind, though you look as marvelous as always.”
“O-okay…” you were left searching for a response, feeling rather silly in your skimpy outfit, “should I… leave?”
“No, I would like for you to stay.”
Even more perplexing was this request. “Alright… then I have to change.” The awkwardness was palpable between you as he ghosted his fingers along the side of your waist which made you feel more like a possession than any amount of fucking could have. You felt his body leave the bed, too nervous to turn and face him, you glanced out of the corner of your eye, only to see him return with and place one of his button-down shirts in your lap. “Oh, thank you. I’m sorry, I wasn’t expecting to need something else… thank you.”
You situated yourself onto your knees and fumbled with the zipper on the dress. “Can you… help?” Silently he nodded and sat beside you. With ease, he undid the bow and moved his hand to the silver zipper with a slightly intrigued look. “S-sorry, it’s a silly little future contraption,” you muttered with a slight giggle, hoping to bring further levity. He studied it for a moment before grabbing the pull between his fingers. You could hear the metallic zip as it was dragged down your back.
“How odd,” he hummed amusedly before pressing one soft kiss into the exposed skin of your back.
“Y-yeah,” you responded, lacking in anything better as you stood up and let the dress drop to the floor. For the first time in months, you felt rather exposed in front of him, as if him seeing your body like this was in fact something improper you oughtn’t allow.
“You are spectacularly beautiful,” he said, handing you his shirt, “and I love you.”
“Then, why don’t you want me?” The words spilled out of your mouth before you had a chance to stop them, but his refusal of you had shaken your confidence. Dio had never rejected you so overtly. Immediately, you felt terrible for asking. He didn’t owe you his body, fuck, you felt awful. His dismissal was enough, but anxiety had already clawed its way inside your stomach. “I mean… I’m sorry. I shouldn’t… pressure you… that was wrong of me, I just...” quickly, you put his shirt on to cover your naked body which suddenly seemed indecent to you. In your haste, you did the buttons incorrectly which only left you feeling even more flustered and defeated.
“I am feeling… uncertain,” he uttered at last, but it was not a sufficient response to mislay your uneasiness.
“About… about me? About us?”
“No, certainly not.” He beckoned you to his side and drew you nearer to him to close the space between you. “I love you, you ought to know that by now.”
“I do, but—”
“I have been reminded of some unpleasant things. I would very much not like to think of them while making love to you, that is all.”
“I understand, I’m so sorry,” you said with a slight nod, though undeniably still a bit befuddled by the remarkable vagueness he was able to muster when he did not wish to discuss something further, you relegated yourself to the lack of conclusion.
“Enough,” he said, sternly at first but he then made a decided attempt to soften his tone, “now then, shall we get some rest? You know that I always sleep better when you're beside me.”
Notes:
Dio might not be trying to reach heaven, but he certainly took reader there ;p
I love you Dio having a breakdown over your past wrongdoings. I'm sure we all knew that Dio, who's been crashing out every day that he's been back, would have to come to terms with what happened all those years ago, it's been itching at his mind since he and reader first kissed. I think it was really important for him to have a glaring realization that he was wrong rather than him just apologizing for the sake of it.
I'm playing a little fast and loose with Victorian flower meanings, I mean, it's there to an extent but I did twist them a little to fit my narrative needs, mostly because I deeply associate Dio with daffodils, maybe that's because they're narcissuses lol. You know my love for historical accuracy, even if I play fast and loose with that too, but I should say that the first primitive zippers were invented in the 1850s, but they were a far cry away from what we would think of now and even still, they weren't used commonly on clothes until the 1920s.
It really shouldn't have taken me this long to get an update out, so I apologize for anyone kept waiting, I really do love writing this but I can get a little pedantic with wording, especially as this story progresses farther. Thank you for all your super kind comments here and in my tumblr ask box, I promise that even if it takes me a while to reply, I do love and appreciate every single one! I will try to be more regular with posting but the next chapter is also ungodly long so it may take a few weeks. So until then, thanks for reading! I can't believe this fic is already a year old!
Chapter 38: This Is The Sea
Notes:
Just my luck that the day I was intending on posting, ao3 is down for most of the day LOL! Anyway, I didn't think it was fair to make you guys wait another whole week so here's a late update.
This chapter is insanely long but it's also one of my favorites so I hope you guys enjoy it despite the length.
(See the end of the chapter for more notes.)
Chapter Text
The next morning Dio’s attitude was much the same as it had been the night before. Standoffish, bitter, and detestably vague. The blooming geniality you had come to expect from him had been obfuscated by the cloudy troubles that addled his brain. As it had been the night before, he made no attempt to be intimate with you and you, accepting his reasoning last night, didn’t press the issue further, hoping time would be enough to quell his unpleasantness. Still, he held you close in a kind of somber affection that didn’t break even as the feathers of morning's cool sun peeked through the gaps in the curtains. You made an effort to pull away from him, but his arms ensnared you and dragged you back to him. “Dio!” You exclaimed in a shrill voice that was ripped straight from your throat but he ignored your distaste as he nuzzled into your hair, feeling swept away by the silky strands that tickled his face.
A swift tap came at the door, interrupting his display and rousing you both before either of you had the chance to fully free yourselves from the fetters of sleep. Dio gave a terse click of his tongue at the intrusion, if it was one of the servants, they would likely go away if he left the call unanswered but the voice on the other side left no questions as to who was waiting there. “Dio?” The soft, dulcet tone of Jonathan fractured the otherwise reticent morning with his hesitant inquiry, “may I come in?”
“If you please,” Dio responded, sounding equal parts irritated and disinterested as he scoffed under his breath.
“Dio, I came to bring you an… oh… um, hello Miss,” Jonathan’s voice trailed off into mortified silence and a glow of red suffused his face once his eyes locked onto you tucked there beneath the covers with Dio’s arm woven lovingly around you. The scene appeared far more scandalous to him than the reality, but Dio made no effort to correct what he had already surmised as Jonathan’s conclusion.
“Continue, JoJo,” Dio sighed and proceeded to sensually rub your arm, an action which only reinforced Jonathan’s beliefs. Jonathan was first and foremost a gentleman and while he knew that Dio had a… physical relationship with you, it felt unbecoming of him to see you, someone he considered like unto a sister, in what he could only guess was a concupiscent position. But of course for Dio, the astounding fluster in Jonathan’s face was more than worth the minor annoyance his intrusion caused, froths comfortable position on the bed he was able to delight in his poor, ingenuous brother’s reaction.
“Right… as I was saying, I have come to bring you an offer. As you know, Erina and her father will be in attendance at tonight's dinner. This meeting is very important to me and as such I think it would be—”
Dio cut him off before he could finish his thought. “Are you suggesting I make myself scarce so as to not offend your precious Erina? How cruel of you, JoJo. To think, the first formal event since my return, the first event where I may show off my lovely, lovely girl, and you would take that away from me?”
“You did not allow me to finish, Dio.”
Dio gave a callous sigh and urged Jonathan on with a brusque waving of his hand, “then what, pray tell, did you have in mind?”
“I was planning on taking Erina for a picnic this afternoon, you both should join us,” Jonathan said with a wide smile.
“Oh, and I thought your intention was to keep me as far from your darling lady as you could.”
Jonathan’s smile faded to a look of bemusement, “this can be your opportunity to make things right Dio, do not scorn it. You said that is what you wanted and I am choosing to trust you.”
Dio’s lips stretched into a puzzled frown. This problem with Erina had been much on his mind, but he hadn’t intended on addressing it quite so soon, at the very least he was hoping to offset any kind of confrontation until after your sojourn to the mansion had completed. “Is it not a good deal too cold for a picnic?” He asked, the jeering question was the only response he’d been able to find the words for as he raked through a slew of endless sentiments he could possibly express to Erina in the hopes of jogging something of substance. He hadn’t considered her forgiveness, he had hardly considered her at all, and yet the memory had affected him so deeply he found himself revolted by his actions. He hated that he had acted so pitifully like his father and more than that, he hated that you had to know that version of him, he did not think that he could bear the thought that you could look at him with the same disdain he’d seen in his mother’s eyes when his father resorted to violence.
“Perhaps a bit, but the weather has been rather lovely as of late, I mean to enjoy it, lest it turn sour again.”
“I do not want my dearest girl to catch a cold.”
“It is only an offer, you needn’t accept it if you don’t want to, I won’t bar you from tonight’s event either way, though I think it would be an act of goodwill,” Jonathan said with a shrug, relenting to the fact that his endeavors could very well be in vain.
You glanced at Dio for a moment, your soft eyes glinted with defiance as if urging him to behave. He cast you an equally meaningful expression that showed his trepidation, but the feeling of your hand lightly gliding over his shoulder proved enough to sway him. “Alright JoJo, we will do this your way.”
“Splendid. Erina will be arriving here around eleven, please be ready.”
Shortly thereafter, Jonathan took his leave. Once again alone in the quiet of his bedroom, Dio exhaled sharply, feeling a headache already ebbing behind his eyes. “That JoJo,” he sneered unmeaningly, letting the sentiment fade out into nothing for the briefest of moments while he let himself sink back into an easier state of restfulness. As he lay there beside you in his state of discomfiture, you patted his arm restrainedly in an offer of support without converting the mild annoyance you felt at his refusal to share what he was actually feeling with you. “Who does he think he is?” He snapped finally, too exasperated to keep his malicious comments at bay.
“Your brother,” you said sternly and less sympathetic than you meant, “your brother who is trying to help you.”
“That churlish attitude of yours is rather unattractive.”
You let out a loud, hyperbolic groan and pushed your hair off your face in frustration. “Dio, I am trying to help you here. Everyone is trying to help you. You can’t react in anger when things get a little uncomfortable and you can’t just brush me off either.”
“All this attitude simply because…” he thought to say something nasty, something to hurt you worse than your words had hurt him but he ultimately thought better of it. Disagreeable as it was to admit, you weren’t wrong. Everyone had been far kinder to him than he deserved. Everyone had been so willing to forgive him, his misdeeds and allow him a new start. Even this chance with Erina was a far more generous offer than his behavior had warranted. “I’m aware,” he muttered incredulously, retiring any idea of an argument. It would be of no benefit to him and moreover, it was not what he wanted. He loved you, he didn’t want to cause unneeded strife, but the more those unpleasant feelings chewed at his thoughts, the harder it was to set his mind right.
You crawled on top of him, forcing him to hold your gaze. The collar of the shirt he'd given to you now hung comically low on your shoulder. It served as a reminder of how you and your delightfully fairy-like ways had charmed and changed him as if through some hazy, glittering magic that could only be conjured by your soft and loving hands you had brought about his earthly deliverance. The very hands that always held him so tenderly and assured him he was safe. Your eyes flared with the same roguish determination that had stared back at him that evening in your flat when he had helplessly told you of his sins. It was a losing position no matter how he sliced it, he was weak to you, he knew that much. There was something about you, something in your eyes, your ways, your soul that cut him to his core. Before he could succumb to your spell, he placed one of his hands on your shoulder and let the other curled around your waist to ease you effortlessly to his side. You felt your body give way as his arms fell softly around you and a kiss was placed on your forehead. God, it was so easy to give in to him, the hypnotizing warmth of his lips was nearly too much to resist. It required a significant resistance to not be ensnared in his trap.
“No, no, no, no, no! You don’t get to do that. You can’t start acting romantic as a ploy to get out of telling me what you’re feeling! Please, Dio, you have to know that I’ll always love you, you never have to run from me.”
Dio bit his lip to keep the storm of emotions at bay, “I know,” he exhaled, his tone still teetering over into irritation. “I know you do. And that is why—” he let out another heavy sigh before continuing, pouring the utmost care into each and every word as though it were a prayer, “I do not want you to think of me like that, as a person capable of such heinous things,” the back of his hand softly grazed over your face, “as a person capable of hurting you. I don’t want you to be afraid of me,” he swallowed harshly and choked back his rather undignified urge to cry, “I do not want to be my father.” The remembrance tasted like sick in the back of his throat as he looked at his hands. The hands he’d used to murder the man when he was but a child. An action he thought would sever him from his life for good, but in truth, it had only carved a perfect spot for him inside the recesses of his mind. Always lurking, watching, waiting, and mocking him through his many failures. A chain forever binding him to his past. Dio had thought that murder would make him feel powerful. Strong in a way he had never felt against his father. He had thought that it would undo the years of abuse, that it would take away the fear and the shame he felt perpetually. He thought it would quell the pain of remembering all he had lost in his mother, that it would take away the remembrance of how his bones used to rattle and ache when the chilly wind struck his bruised skin. He thought in vain that all that hurt would disappear the moment his father’s pathetic life had been snuffed out and that it would fix something within him that had been so utterly broken, but rather than resolve the suffering, it merely tethered him forever to the swirling terror that consumed him as a diminutive child when he would cower behind ramshackle furniture, just out of sight until his father collapsed in a drunken heap. He’d lived with his ghost every day since. A ghost that dwelled in the depths of his mind where the worst of his memories lay. A ghost that knew every crack in his shiny façade and every vulnerability and deficiency in his constitution.
But he couldn’t take back murder. He couldn’t change what he’d done to his father. No matter what he did, no matter how far he ran or how hard he tried to forget, he was always there. A painful reminder of the past he had tried desperately to escape from. A fearful look at the future that awaited him. The clawing reach of that wickedness, that wretchedness, that cruelty… he knew that it was never far away. Only when he anchored himself to you did he feel the tempests quell and scattered sunlight break through the cracks in the clouds. But the fear and the guilt that riddled him was inexorable. The fear that when he gazed into the expressionless void of his father’s face, it was but a mirror of his own density. The fear that he could fight and claw to escape it, but no matter what he did, no matter where he went, it wouldn’t change a thing because that monster was always within him, it was him. And you can never escape yourself, “but I fear that I already am.”
Empathy stung in your chest and suddenly you felt that perhaps you had been needlessly harsh with him for sometimes when he locked his emotions away it was easy to forget how sensitive he truly was inside. You sat up in bed and looked on as he folded his head into his hands. You tentatively laid your hand on the back of his neck and smoothed over the hem of his shirt, softly soothing him. “Dio, you are not your father. You are trying and that’s more than he ever did. Understand?” He glanced up at you, there was a pained expression visible on his beautiful face that shattered your heart to ruin but it granted you the motivation to be freer with your affection. In an immediate action, you pulled yourself over to him and pressed your head firmly to his forehead with your eyes clamped shut to oppose the tears that had welled up, “you have come so much further than you realize. Be easy with yourself. You’re trying even though it’s hard and that’s enough for everyone.”
“I suppose.”
“My love, would a person without remorse go out of their way to seek forgiveness from a person they wronged so long ago?” Pausing briefly, you let your fingers sweep his hair from his face in a delicate motion that helped to ground him in reality. Without responding, he seized your hand in his and held it tightly before kissing along your fingers like an acolyte unto an angel. “Of course they wouldn’t, but you are. You deserve peace, you deserve love, and you deserve forgiveness. Take it all in stride and handle yourself with gentleness.” After your statement had finished, you felt his hand splay across your back as he softly lowered you back into his arms, pulling your body against his to indulge in the sanctity of propinquity. Perhaps he needed to hear those soothing words before facing the unenviable task before him. Silently he lay with you in his arms, content to bask in the warmth he’d come to depend on as a meaningful aspect of his life and not just a mere luxury to dip into when his fancy struck. His fingers traced along the slope of your leg, reminding himself of how he adored every aspect of your body. Warm and soft, yet strong in ways he, himself, was not.
He placed a kiss on the top of your hand, lingering there for a moment while memorizing the way your chest rose and fell in steady breaths, “I don’t know,” he said in a voice that broke slightly as he tried to collect his thoughts, “I no longer know what to make of myself. For much of my life, I have had a clear vision of what I am and the future I was going to take for myself but I no longer have any certainty of who I am or who I will become.”
“We know what we are but not what we may be and is that no part of the fun? We get to figure out things as we go, there’s no plan or destiny we have to commit to, we can take time figure out exactly what we want together.”
“That’s a preposterous way to navigate the world, one cannot approach things blindly and without due consideration, doing so will practically guarantee failure.”
“Oh, you don’t have to take everything so seriously, you have time to understand all those things but for now, can’t we just accept the good and deal with the rest as it comes?”
“I don’t…” he gritted his teeth in a snarl of disgust, “how am I supposed to accept the image others have of me when I do not even know myself?”
“Dio, I believe you’ve been laboring over the terrible misapprehension that the whole of you is hard to love but that could be further from the case, all my love for you came to me as easy as breathing and that will never change, I can promise you that much. So please be gentler with yourself, you don’t need to have it all figured out at once, you’re still so young, you can take all the time you need to decide who you want to be but let me love you through it all.”
Dio eased back, it was a tenuous ideal to cling to, but he’d found the closest thing he’d ever felt to hope in you but all his rage and compunctions clouded his skies and turned his mind to a raging sea.
Honesty was not a trait that Dio had valued. As a child, he remembered how his mother had spoken valiantly of its importance, but how could he accept her word when she deluded herself into accepting a life of unparalleled suffering without question or complaint? If he had then lied and cheated and stolen his way into riches, would he be considered worse if the outcome was something grander and moreover, did it really matter? He believed the end justified the means and as long as he would be able to keep up appearances, then no one would ever question how unseemly the means might’ve been. So he had fortified himself with whatever gilded lies it took to get by.
The golden ideals his mother had tried so desperately to instill in him seemed little more than fantasy for if the world were just, his father, feckless and dishonorable man that he was, would have died in her stead. The tragedy that Dio had faced in such tender years had been the root of his disenchantment with the world and all the people in it. The seeds of mistrust had been sown and so Dio learned not to need anyone else, he learned to keep his mind sharp and his heart closed and in doing so, he would never have to face up to all he was.
That is until you came along.
There was something you did to him that rearranged what he had previously thought immutable. Had the matter not been a time-sensitive one, he likely would’ve elected to stay in bed with you well into the afternoon, pondering the extent of his beliefs but this time he could not. The clock had already chimed ten several minutes ago. Letting a few more minutes tick by in comforting bliss, Dio ruminated on his current predicament and the most advantageous way to approach the situation before he cocked his head to signal you to get up as he gathered things from his boudoir; an elegant pair of slacks and a well-fitting sweater that would provide enough warmth beneath his coat to keep out the chilly winter air. You stood to meet him as he finished preening. “You look wonderful,” you said as you tightened your arms around his waist, “I think sweaters suit you nicely,” you said and allowed your hands to travel down his waist and settled them on his hips, just beneath where his belt sat snugly.
“If that is the case, I suppose I will have to wear them more often and so indulge your fancy,” he said as he spun you to his side and handed you the robe you’d discarded the night before. You hastily put it on before you began the trek back to your room. You shrunk beside Dio to keep out of sight should anyone be in the halls, a suitable explanation for your inappropriate state did not come to you but thankfully wasn’t needed amidst the vacancy of the corridor.
Dio shut the door behind you and carefully did the lock, an action you would’ve found rather suggestive under a different circumstance. You let your robe drop to the floor again and began undoing the buttons of his shirt. “I hope you know you are not getting this back,” you teased as the fabric hung open on your body.
“Is that so?” He asked, disinterested in the conversation as he was more concerned with affording himself the best view of your lithe body in such a decadent state.
“Absolutely, this is mine now,” you took the open sides and wrapped them around yourself effectively cutting him off from any sight of your more tantalizing assets.
“Hm, perhaps I will allow it as it does make you look rather enticing. Especially with the accompanying knowledge that there’s nothing underneath.” With that, he eased you onto his lap and pried the shirt open so he could look at you entirely. Your airy giggles drifted musically through the room as his hands travelled your waist. His fingers crawled across your back to lock you in place as he kissed the tender spot between your breasts. A sharp exhale left your lungs and all at once you felt as though you could melt into him, as though you would beg him to have you there without a shred of either dignity or decency. With a mischievous snicker, he pinned you beneath him, but before any gratification could be achieved, he pulled away from you, leaving you breathless and whimpering on your bed as he began rummaging through your things to find a suitable outfit. Something proper without being austere and warm enough to keep you from getting cold. Once he found one he deemed satisfactory, he tossed it to the bed in front of you and indicated for you to get yourself ready. All the while keeping his shrewd, narrowed eyes fixed on you as you donned each layer of clothing as if it were a show. “How lovely, Jonathan may even forget that he found you half-dressed in my bed this morning,” he sneered and mockingly clapped his hands in a mockery of applause.
“Must you always be so hellbent on embarrassing me? I am your girlfriend and I love you so dearly.”
Dio offered you an amused look, only further inspirited by your feigned offense, “I would never try to embarrass my lovely lady but unfortunately, she has quite the proclivity for finding herself in rather compromising situations.”
“And I think I know the root cause of all those lubricious situations. Your impish behavior, Dio Brando.”
“Oh, my dear, am I not a perfect gentleman? I try so extraordinarily hard to treat you with the utmost care and consideration that such a darling little thing warrants,” he simpered, fully intent on nettling you further just to enjoy your sweet, exacerbated reactions, but to his displeasure, you merely rolled your eyes at his feigned indignation as you slipped into your shoes and shuffled out the door.
Jonathan was standing at the base of the stairs with a basket in tow and not a hint of unease. “Glad to see you both ready so promptly,” he smiled and gave a subtle introductory bow.
“You doubt my abilities to behave civilized, JoJo? I have always far better sense than you, if I am to recall correctly it was you who was always reprimanded for your lack of manners.” You nudged him to stop his vitriolic attitude.
“Of course. By the way, Dio, I took the liberty of packing a bit of your leftover desserts I hope that won’t be an issue.”
“You what?” Dio spat, only to be met with your side-eyed glance to remind him to be on his very best behavior. “I mean… certainly JoJo, it will not be a problem at all.”
“Excellent, ah look, it is just eleven now, Erina should be arriving any moment.”
No sooner had he spoken than a knock came lightly at the front door. Erina stood on the threshold carrying a thick blanket. Jonathan guided her inside and wrapped his arm over her shoulder in a soft embrace. Dio gave a slight scowl as if disgusted by their display of affection, but quickly righted himself to not seem rude as mirrored the gesture on you to bolster his ego.
The four of you set off over the grounds of the Joestar estate. You walked around to the back of the building and passed by the gardens. The chilly ground crunched beneath your feet as you treated over the heath and onward to a sunny patch of grass near the river’s edge. The river ran cold and smooth and sparkled beneath the scattered late-morning sun. You stood beside Erina, locked in a tension that went unspoken and Jonathan and Dio bickered about how to set up the blanket. “Those two just can’t seem to get along,” you said as you shook your head in a sheepish attempt to clear the air.
“Hm, yes, it’s always been like that,” she mused in a delicate voice that was more befitting of a dove than a woman.
“I can imagine,” you chuckled, hoping it would dispel some of the awkwardness, but the tension remained until the boys had unfurled the blanket and helped their respective partners to sit. Dio placed a firm hand on your back as he took a seat beside you and placed a tiny kiss on your cheek, the sweet gesture did little to dispel the unpleasantness but still seemed to offer him a modicum of serenity in the otherwise agonizing shame that had gathered in the air around him. It wasn’t hostility in so many words, but it might as well have been in how viscerally it was felt.
You sat, embroiled in nervous tension as Erina slowly began unpacking the basket. The gentle reticence on her face broke into a soft smile as Jonathan’s hand met hers. You couldn’t help but feel an inkling of gratitude to see everyone safe and content. You leaned your back against Dio’s chest, it had been a good deal colder than you would have preferred and you were thankful for the warm clothes you wore and for Dio’s arm that had been draped gently across your shoulder like a heavy cape.
Dishes were arranged and food was set out. Small sandwiches and seasonal fruits and the desserts you’d made for Dio the day before completed the banquet and Erina looked upon you with sweet, enthusiastic eyes, “I hope everything is to your liking, I wasn’t sure of your tastes when Jonathan informed me that you’d be joining us.”
“It looks wonderful, thank you both for having us and thank you for cooking, Erina,” you said, trying to match her seemingly unshakable amiability.
“Oh, it wasn’t any trouble. I do hope there’s enough.”
“There will be plenty,” Jonathan declared with the same good-natured smile you’d seen in his father. “I’m glad you both decided to join us and Dio, thank you for sharing your desserts with us, it was very generous of you.”
“Certainly, anything for my dearest brother.”
Jonathan only laughed at his brother's bitter tone as he began to serve you and Erina. Dio huffed to relinquish the chains of scorn and perturbation that had plagued him all throughout the week, but most heavily last night.
“Have you two been together long?” You asked before taking a bite, hoping the casual conversation would help ease into the more morose topics to be tackled later.
“Not terribly long,” Erina said with a soft, wistful intonation overlaid in her reposeful voice, “I only just returned from India last autumn.”
“Oh, I see, that must’ve been exciting,” you mused, wished you could ask her further questions but you didn’t want to further delay the inevitable by sidetracking the conversation though the hopeful part of you lingered on the idea of fostering a friendship with both her and Jonathan.
“Ah, but I believe it was written in the stars many years ago.” Jonathan laughed affably with a boyish grin spread across his face as if revealing a best-kept secret.
“JoJo, you can’t say such things!” Erina scolded, but as she did, a soft pink flush spread across her cheeks in defiant betrayal of her best efforts to remain composed.
“But darling, you know I’ve been holding a candle since we were children,” he said, teasing his fingers through the soft tendrils of her golden hair. She forced a frown, but the flush remained on her face.
Once the talk had ceased another heavy silence filled the air between you and the tension returned. Dio only picked at his food, hoping his distress was not outwardly apparent and perhaps it wouldn’t have been to others, but you could tell his feelings by merely the slightest shift in his demeanor. The harsh sound of silverware clinking against plates seemed to only reinforce his anxiety as he counted the moments through the heartbeats that howled through his chest. Having moved on to dessert, Jonathan happily ate your bakery and offered you several high compliments that felt even more genuine when uttered by such a gentleman. Dio eyed you both keenly but said nothing, merely brooding in his predestined silence, having had just about enough of JoJo’s incessant treacle. In noting his brother’s sour mood, Jonathan attempted to make a bit of small talk with him as a relative one hasn’t seen in a while might, but Dio still offered very little in the way of responses and so went on sulking.
It wasn’t until the meal had been finished and everything was packed away that Jonathan took on a more serious tone. “Now then, Dio, I believe there was something you wanted to say to Erina.”
Dio took a deep breath and reassumed his commanding disposition though it was to his displeasure that all of the thoughts that coursed through his head seemed cloyingly vapid or otherwise ineffectual, which, to him, was disturbingly incongruous with his usual casual confidence. “Yes, so I did,” he let out another drawn-out sigh and closed his eyes. His face fell solemn, only when your hand traced over the lines of his fingers did you see a shift in his composure. When he reopened his eyes and finally turned to face Erina, he did his utmost to maintain a stoic disposition all the while, but that was not done without feeling the disconcerting churn of his stomach. “Erina… what happened between us, or rather, what I did to you is inexcusable. It was terrible of me to turn you into an unwitting pawn in my rotten game against Jonathan. There is no good excuse and there is no good reason for my actions but I was a horrible, miserable fool then, possessing not the dignity to see beyond myself. Truthfully, I’ve been wicked most of my life, I’ve done a great many awful things, many things I should not have done. But I was wrong then. I was wrong to be so cruel and especially to take out my anger on someone I had never met. For that and for all the hurt it may have caused you I am s-sorry,” he swallowed thickly, barely chocking the word out through the dryness in his throat, he hadn’t noticed until his attention shifted, but he’d taken your hand in his and been inadvertently running his thumb across your skin. He gave a jolt to pull his hand away upon this realization, but you did not let him and only twined your fingers more tightly between his to hold them in place.
Silence built and you could feel a gnawing dread in the pit of your stomach, but Erina only smiled gently. “Thank you for saying so, Dio. I won’t lie and tell you that what you did had no impact on me whatsoever. In fact, it hurt quite deeply. But it also taught me to worry less about what others may think of me. It was so long ago and if you are honest I’m your efforts towards reconciliation, then I am willing to let bygones be bygones and start anew.”
“I…. thank you…” A grim, near-hopeless expression that poured into embarrassment was etched across his face once reality set in. He could not discern whether or not the entire endeavor could be classified as a defeat or not, but it surely did not feel like a victory.
“And Dio, while I appreciate your fine words, I am someone who prefers action over sentiment. JoJo has been gracious with you and I shall do the same, but only if your actions communicate what your intentions have laid out,” Erina said, crushing the last scrap of his pride he had to cling onto.
His look faded to one of strained humiliation. Less pleased with this situation in spite of its necessity and now more than certain that this had been nothing other than another brilliant defeat at the hands of Erina Pendleton, “I intend to keep my word,” he added though the sentiment felt rather ineffectual.
“Good, then I do believe we all should move on from this unpleasantness,” she declared as she mindlessly took stock of everything placed in the baskets.
The afternoon continued, and though the tension had waned, it never fully dissipated. A slight strain that no one dared to speak of remained as the blanket was packed away.
“Now then, I suppose we will see you both tonight at dinner,” Jonathan said in his same mellow voice.
“Yes, so you shall,” Dio offered, perhaps a bit more vacuously than his usual sophistication would have allowed.
“Dear, I was hoping that we may help each other get ready this evening. It has been frightfully long since I’ve attended any formal event, perhaps some company would be nice if you are willing, that is,” Erina said hopefully as she gently placed her chilly hand on your arm.
You could not explain why your cheeks lit up with a soft rosy glow at her proposition, but you felt rather out of your element and any shred of confidence you may have had receded into ungainly diffidence. “C-certainly, I think that would be lovely.”
“Excellent, then I will see you this evening,” she cooed brightly and waved you farewell as Dio whisked you away across the lawn.
Once out of earshot, you placed your hand against Dio’s back and looked at him, “that went rather well, are you feeling better now?” You asked sweetly, hoping his dour mood would be lifted and you would again be able to enjoy the fleeting remainder of your visit. He only grimaced in return. ‘Apparently not,’ was all that you thought, collecting yourself enough to keep the words in your head as he led you inside, still acting a good deal colder than you would’ve preferred.
“I think we should discuss tonight’s event if you wouldn’t mind,” Dio said as you made your way back to his room, diverting from the topic completely as if the mere reminiscence was more than he cared to consider.
“Oh, what of it?”
“Father is not considering this a formal occasion, though I would hazard that you would find it rather beyond your typical element.”
“Must you be so rude to me?” You asked and rolled your eyes in vexation, though he wasn’t exactly wrong, you had learned rather quickly that casual by Victorian standards was still black tie formal by your perspective and truth be told, you didn’t have much that fit the bill.
“Hm? I mean it not in reproach but simply to inform you of the expectations. I understand your culture is rather different and you hadn’t the need for such luxuries until now.” Even though he had assured you his sharp words had been in good faith, it still seemed as though he was insulting you, “and I am well familiar with the calibre of the items in your wardrobe, thus I know that you are ill-suited for anything more formal than even the most casual of occasions.”
“Remind me to put locks on everything when we return home, yeah? I’ve had about enough of your contemptuous snooping. At any rate, I hadn’t exactly fancied I would be in the presence of such distinguished company.”
“Hence why it was mentioned, but worry not, I will make sure that you are provided with fineries befitting any occasion in the future.”
“You really don’t have to, I’m sure I can find something suitable.”
“Nonsense,” he remarked somewhat defensively but then kissed your hand in a contradictorily flirtatious manner, “you a both my guest and my dearest girl, nothing would please me more than to dress you in the luxuries that suit one so darling. And besides, how you dress reflects on me and I cannot have you putting me in a bad light, now can I?” He jeered and playfully danced his fingers up your arm.
“I will ask again, must you always be so rude to me?” You huffed and tried to dramatically pull away but his arms had already ensnared you.
“You act like I’m some sort of devil,” he objected mockingly in between the kisses he placed on your neck.
“Okay, okay, I’m sorry,” you said through a flurry of giggles as you finally managed to free yourself from his grasp, “now I have to think about getting ready.”
“Very well,” he said albeit rather reluctantly, “and darling, please do refrain from wearing trousers and any of the other men’s attire you seem to delight in. While I may find your boyishness rather charming, I do not think our guests would meet it with the same level of interest.”
You gave a long sigh in exasperation, well, at least he seemed to be in higher spirits. You could handle some lighthearted teasing if he remained as such.
From there, the evening came swiftly. With so little preparation, you donned the nicest dress you had brought and perched yourself at your vanity in the name of getting ready when a light knock came at the door and broke your focus.
“Dear, are you ready, may I come in?”
“Sure thing, sorry Erina, I didn’t mean to leave you waiting,” you replied sheepishly and opened the door. Erina looked rather breathtaking in a long pink gown that far overshadowed the simple muted green dress you wore. Simple indeed, you hadn’t much need for fineries before. You’d been content with your simple life and your work, yet now you were made to venture out into the world of the lavish nobility. Surely, after you returned home you would need to amend your lifestyle to reflect this curious change. More opulent dresses, corsets, and other costly adornments seemed to have suddenly become a necessity and you foresaw another heavy period of adjustments in having to acclimate into a more polished version of yourself, one more befitting the dignity and grace that accompanied your new position beside Dio Brando. Even if you could never force your personality to fit the courtly ideals you had danced into, you could at least dress the part convincingly enough.
You bade Erina into your chambers then reclaimed your spot before the vanity and began fussing over your hair in an attempt to wrangle it into a more refined style. “Would you like some help?” She offered gently as she took hold of a particularly unruly curl and expertly brushed it into place.
“If you wouldn’t mind, it would be nice, thank you.”
“It’s no trouble, and after I finish your hair, you can do my makeup. I must say, I’m a bit jealous of how pretty yours looks,” she said as she scanned over the products you had laid out on your vanity.
“Of course, that seems a fair trade,” you chuckled though perhaps a bit awkwardly and let her take control as you sat idly with your hands folded in your lap. She neatly arranged your curls with delicate, precise hands so that none hung messily in your face and gathered your hair into a fine satin ribbon that looked undoubtedly elegant.
“JoJo has told me a bit about you, he said that you’re a scientist,” she said, breaking the silence as she continued to weave her fingers through the remaining untidy ringlets to suitably tame them.
“Oh, yes…”
“Oh, how exciting, that seems quite impressive. I am only a nurse but I do enjoy my work a great deal.”
“Oh no, that is entirely impressive! And how wonderful that you enjoy what you do, I enjoy my work as well. Perhaps too much sometimes,” you tittered nervously and twisted a particularly disobedient curl around your finger and tucked it securely behind your ear.
“Not at all, I think it’s quite important, a woman ought to.”
“I agree,” you said emphatically with a pleasant chuckle as she helped you tie up the last tendrils of your hair.
“So… you love Dio…?” She paused for a brief moment to collect her thoughts as though picking her words carefully so as to not offend you, “I mean… you must, after all.”
“Yes, I do.” You met her eyes in the mirror, her eyes held a stern gaze that faded to something softer when she noticed you looking at her. “For what it’s worth, I am so sorry about what he did to you. H-he told me and it was absolutely wrong of him, you could never deserve something so awful. I really am so sorry—”
Her dainty hand settled on your shoulder, as soft and delicate as a feather floating on the summer breeze. “It is not your place to apologize.”
“I know, but I do feel bad and everyone has been so gracious with him and to that, I am endlessly grateful, but it doesn’t make the things he did right.”
“That is certainly so but you also needn’t clean up his messes for him, if he truly intends to better himself, then the onus falls on him alone. All of that aside, I meant everything I said to him. I would not offer forgiveness if I thought it was futile, nor would I try to make amends for JoJo’s sake alone. I do not hold tightly to grudges, especially ones that are nigh on a decade old, but all the same, I also do not put much weight into empty words. Though I do believe he is capable of good if he wants to try. ”
“I-I think so too, I’ve always thought that. Ever since I met him I’ve believed that there is good in him, I’ve known that there is good in him. Erina, he has been through so much, he has been hurt so many times and I know that doesn’t excuse everything he’s done, that he was mean and hurtful himself but I just—”
“My, you really do love him.”
“I do, I love him so much that sometimes it feels scary because I don’t think I could ever love someone else the way I love him. But I’ve always wanted to love him in a way that he deserves to be, to show him it’s safe to be vulnerable and to be loved, that he doesn’t have to run from his past. I think from the moment I met him I knew I wanted to love him, even if I didn’t admit it to myself, and I’m so lucky to be able to.”
Erina’s face lit up and she offered you the sweetest of smiles. “Well dear, I do believe you’ve had an effect on him. He is far different from how I remember him, though it has been a while and I’ve never dwelt on him long, so perhaps my judgement isn’t the most sound, but I must say, he seemed decidedly tamer. And he does love you, doesn’t he?”
“Yes, he does, he’s made that very clear to me and I am so very lucky that he has afforded me that privilege. I know how hard it was for him to open up; to feel secure enough to let me in.”
“Then all’s well that ends well, but never forget that he is incredibly lucky, too,” she beamed and tightened the ribbon in your hair, “there, I think it’s done. You look quite lovely if I do say so myself.”
You gazed in the mirror and flitted your curls about, watching as they gracefully fell around your face as though you had sprung to life from a Botticelli painting. “This is gorgeous! My hair hasn’t looked this nice since— actually, I can’t remember the last time it looked this nice. Not since moving here, that’s for sure.”
“Oh, no one has helped you with your hair since you left America?”
You inhaled sharply, only just remembering your place. “Y-yes, it’s been a while since I moved, but I’m not much for socialization so I’ve mostly kept to myself and it’s not as though my work would look kindly on such fancies.”
“I see, I fear you are in for quite a great deal of it if you align yourself with the Joestars. Sir Joestar is quite a pillar in the community and Dio especially has never been one to shy away from a crowd.”
“I’ve noticed as much. He really has quite a captivating personality, I feel I’m a trifle plain beside him.”
“Now, now, none of that. Remember, Dio is incredibly fortunate to have someone who loves him as much as you do. I hope, for his sake as well as yours, that he knows that,” she said with a look far more serious than you’d expected her gentle face capable of, “now, you promised you would do my makeup in return.”
“So I did,” you laughed as you began rifling through your belongings to find the cosmetics you’d brought with you.
“I want the sparkles you have on your cheeks, it’s so pretty!” Her voice chimed as she eagerly switched places with you in front of the mirror.
“I believe we can arrange that,” you said with a wry chuckle as you set out an array of products. “Now, let me work my magic,” you said with a wide grin before beginning your work. You had always enjoyed the ritual of doing your makeup and it had been so long since you had any friends who would let you do theirs, you had occasionally dickered over the idea of asking Dio if you could do his, though you always shied away under the pretense that you request may offend his sensibilities, but for the first time in over two years, you found yourself with a willing participant and you did not need the guise of the formal obligation to give your best effort.
Lightly, you applied a soft pink blush and a pearlescent highlighter that made her cheeks sparkle in the light. “Close your eyes for a second,” you said as you dipped your brush in a pan of champagne eyeshadow. Her eyelids fluttered as you swept on the powder, the finely milled flecks of shimmer glinted like specs of heaven in the warm firelight. Once done, you stepped back to admire your work, quite proud that your skills had not faded in the slightest despite the lack of practice. “Okay, have a look.”
She opened her eyes and observed her appearance with a heavy-lidded glance that sparked into zealous admiration once she had a chance to take in every fine detail. “Oh! It’s so pretty, I just love it.”
“I’m so glad, you look tremendously beautiful,” you said, beaming brightly, not a word had been untrue, Erina possessed an angelic beauty that only seemed completed by her kindly demeanor.
“Thank you, dear. Do you think JoJo will like it?”
“I think you'll about knock him off his feet,” you said with a laugh.
“Do you really think so?” She asked in a tone that was somewhat shier than before.
“Erina, that boy is so hopelessly in love with you, I think he'd swoon over you no matter what.”
She gave another timid giggle and went on admiring her makeup in the mirror, “tell me, what kind of product did you use for the sparkles? I have never seen such a thing and I simply adore it.”
“Oh, just this, it’s something I brought with me when I moved,” you explained as you held up the compact full of shimmering powder.
“My, to think they have such fine things in America, I had no idea. I have always wanted to go,” she mused with dreamlike visions swirling behind her impossibly blue eyes.
“Here, keep it,” you said, smiling cheerfully before placing the compact in her dainty hands.
“Oh, I couldn’t possibly!”
“I insist, I have plenty as it is. It’s yours.”
She threw her arms around you with a considerable amount of strength you would not have expected for one who looked as gentle as she. “Thank you, dear, thank you so much. You really are too kind.”
“You’re incredibly welcome.” You said, holding your hands to her forearms. “And Erina, thank you, truly, for being so kind to Dio, I know this can’t be easy for you either.”
“No more of that either, dear. What I said to Dio was true and what the future holds for us remains to be seen, that will be dictated by his actions alone.” You nodded, a hint of weariness behind your motions but she was right. What was left was up to Dio and Dio alone. “Now then, I believe we’ve kept our gentlemen waiting long enough.” She let out an airy giggle and tugged your arm out the door with a look of effervescent excitement written all over her face as she hurried you down the hall, only strong and collecting herself once she reached the top of the stairs.
You took a deep breath and gazed over the balcony. A handful of people were milling about and an older gentleman stood making conversation with George while Jonathan and Dio sat in a pair of wingback chairs speaking casually to one another, in truth it seemed the picture of a high-society Victorian function and Jonathan and Dio both seemed befit to play the part of leading gentleman with their fair and noble dispositions, it indeed may the entire nasty business of even that very morning seem a near impossibility. As Erina stepped down the stairs Jonathan made a gesture towards Dio to alert him of your arrival. You descended the stairs two or three steps behind Erina and observed as both men stood to meet you at the foot of the staircase. You watched as Jonathan took Erina’s hand and guided her fluidly into his arms with a benevolent tenderness befitting a refined gentleman such as him. You stepped off the final stair as Dio swept you into his arms in a far more grandiose display of affection than Jonathan would have ever ventured to make in public or private for that matter, but even still it was no less gallant than that of his brother. “You look positively radiant, my dear,” he hummed before pressing a soft kiss on your temple.
“You clean up pretty nice yourself,” you said with a cheesy grin that obviously did not conceal the fretted glimmers of wonder that danced in your eyes as you ogled his truly splendid appearance. His hands cascaded over your waist and tenderly smoothed your dress as though his intentions were incapable of being anything other than innocent.
Sooner than you would have hoped, George made a gesture for Jonathan and Erina to approach where he stood talking with a man you had deduced to be Erina’s father. “Should we… what do we do?” You asked, a sudden feeling of anxiety bubbled up within you and you found yourself forgetting exactly how to conduct yourself for these sorts of formal affairs you had only a tenuous apprehension of to begin with.
“Come, allow me to show you off.”
Dio made the rounds with you on his arm, making good in his intentions as he introduced you to the guests with words such as ‘beloved’ and ‘betrothed’, always speaking highly of your accomplishments but only briefly about the finer arrangements of your relationship before the conversation wandered into the territory of Dio’s future plans with graduation having come and gone with the season. Each commended him on his tremendous scholastic achievements, compliments often came in the form of career suggestions and potential opportunities he may consider looking into given each guest’s various connections. It felt strange to have reentered a world you’d left so far behind, not just in the years of life you had grown into, but somewhere unmoored upon the endless ocean of unattainable time. Though this one was cloaked in far more grandiosity than the one you came from and demanded a far more acute knowledge of the social graces than your defiant, roguish nature had allowed you to obtain even in your own time. You felt yourself blur into the background, only mechanically answering questions with terse replies and soft expressions as you looked to Dio to fill the gaps in what you felt you lacked. You couldn’t help but wonder if he had been disappointed in your performance. Erina’s reminder that this would only be the first of a host of different events, many far more impressive than this comparatively humble gathering to come. The timid part of you worried that you may be unable to fit into the lavish life that Dio clearly fit so comfortably in. The quiet days spent in only each other’s shared company had come to an end and that creeping anxiety burrowed deep into the pit of your stomach with a vengeance.
The notice that dinner was to be served jolted you out of your anxieties just enough to carry yourself to the dining room. Dio effortlessly guided you into your seat and placed a kiss on the back of your hand as if reinforcing to the guests that you were wholly his before assuming his own position at the table.
A fine dinner was served, one even more luxurious than the ones you’d become accustomed to during your stay at the mansion. You were certain it cost a small fortune unto itself and additionally, the food was paired with an accompanying dark wine. In truth, you found it a bit too dry for your tastes, but it provided a distraction from the tremors of disconcertion that ran through you like knives through the meat of whichever animal was to be carved up for the night’s meal.
You faded into the roars of conversation that rose across the table. A swirl of compliments on the meal and hearty congratulations for Lord Joestar on his sons’ recent good fortune. A smattering of questions regarding Dio’s absence during the holidays and eventual return and a hasty lie that you and he had been in America visiting your family to discuss the arrangements of your courtship. Chagrin left you flushed and with a gnawing feeling of unease. You kept your eyes fixed on your plate as you picked at your food, despite the exquisite quality of the meal, you found yourself unable to stomach more than a few compulsory bites. The knot in your stomach only tightened when you saw the stern glance Dio had cast in your direction as the dishes were cleared away. Your face fell into a sulky grimace at his disapproving expression, feeling he must invariably be cross with you and with wanting to avoid any kind of altercation that would tarnish his reputation, you thought it best to remove yourself entirely before anything could follow suit.
Amidst the after-dinner commotion, you managed to slip away from Dio’s side and wandered off to a quiet corner of the room where you tried to collect the disjointed thoughts that raced haphazardly through your mind. You sat off to the side, away from any of the finer socializing, feeling rather out of place in your nicest dress which, compared to the other guests, still left you feeling a bit underdressed. You watched as they paraded in from the dining room in pleasant conversation, yet you felt yourself an island.
You sighed and twirled the ends of your curls, so lost in anxious thought that you hadn’t seen Erina cross the room and approach you. You jumped back with a start as she leaned close to you to grab your attention. “Oh dear, I didn’t mean to give you a fright!”
“Oh, no, no, I’m fine,” you vehemently assured her, but your rapidly beating heart suggested otherwise.
“Are you quite certain, I saw you sitting here all alone, I thought you would have been stitched at Dio’s side the entire night.”
“I just needed a minute to myself…”
“Ah, I understand. These events can be quite demanding, is there anything I can do?”
“No, I really am quite alright. I hope you were at least able to enjoy the dinner.”
“Oh, I did!” She hummed and placed her hands on your shoulders in excitement. “I shan’t get too ahead of myself, but I do believe Father’s talk with Sir Joestar went rather well so I am hopeful for the best.”
“Erina, I’m so happy for you!” You hugged her lightly in return, her small hands softly folded on your back in the brief moment you shared. It hit you at once more than in the years you’d spent in the nineteenth century, you hadn’t really had anything close to a friend, a handful of casual acquaintances with whom you could carry polite conversation, and of course, you had Dio, but those felt very different amiability that friendship provided. In a way, the simple affection that was shared helped to ease your troubles and you were able to feel less alone. You mustered a wide grin when you looked at her next, effortlessly falling into an airy giggle that you both shared for the briefest moment.
Any further conversation, however, was cut short when Dio came into view, his brow was furrowed into a deep scowl as he approached. “I have been looking for you everywhere,” he chided as he stood looking down at you with his arms folded to his chest, “you ran off without so much as a word.”
“Dio, I —”
“You hardly ate anything at dinner and… are you not feeling well?” In an act of gentleness that juxtaposed his stern tone, he brought the back of his hand to your forehead to check for fever.
“I-I’m fine, really…”
“Dio, can you not see that the poor dear is exhausted? If you love her then you must understand that,” Erina scolded with an intense determination behind her eyes.
A croaky snarl caught in his throat in an attempt to repress his displeasure at Erina’s castigations but the frown on his face persisted albeit softer than before. “My darling, please forgive me for not seeing so. I know these events can be tiresome. Will you indulge me for just a moment longer while we bid our guests good evening? Then I can escort you to your chambers and you may rest.”
“That’s fine.” You exhaled as your fingers curled around the defined muscles of his arm, taking solace in the fine anchor he made, “but, please do the talking for me, I’m… I’m nervous.”
A smooth chuckle rumbled in his chest as he drew you close to him. “My dear, there is but nothing to be nervous about. I believe that you have already left everyone here enchanted.”
You blushed as an uneasy smile crept over your face. Dio leaned in and placed the tiniest peck on your lips but it carried with it the sentiment he wished to express to all those who may see, and to Erina especially who had so affronted him.
Dio whirled you around the room as he exchanged pleasantries with the guests. It had been an easier arrangement than you had thought. Dio had stayed true to your wishes and engaged in most of the conversation. You only endeavored to speak when a question was directly asked of you. His commanding presence overwrote your anxiety with a tender calm that put you at ease as the guests were seen out.
Finally free of company, Dio led you up the stairs and into your room. Immediately your body fell on the bed, feeling quite heavier than it had in the days prior. Dio took a seat softly beside you and rested a hand lightly on your arm. “Is there anything you need from me?”
“No,” you said as you momentarily nuzzled against him. “I really am alright, I promise.” You pulled yourself to an upright position as if to emphasize that you would indeed be fine after a decent rest.
You began to undo the ribbons from your hair which left your head a mess of disarrayed curls you did not have the energy to sufficiently tame into a kempt style, and, as if acknowledging your endearing appearance, Dio pressed a kiss onto your forehead. “Alright, do take care of yourself, I hope to see you soon,” he said as he left your room. Hardly had he been gone before you started to get unready. You mustered enough strength to finish taking down your hair and remove your makeup, but before you could do anything else you collapsed back in your bed and fell into a deep sleep.
It was well into the early hours of the morning and Dio found himself alone in his bed. A curious thing. There had not been a single day in which you’d failed to join him and he found himself agitated by the emptiness, almost annoyed by it. He believed he made the invitation rather clear when last he saw you. He assumed he conveyed his desire to have you return to his room once you’d made yourself ready and curl up in his sheets as you always had, and yet you had not come. Leaving him both sorry and bewildered in his fine, but lonely beddings. He attempted to make himself comfortable in your absence, but he remembered how it had been two months since he’d last slept alone and he also remembered just how much he preferred to have your company. The solitude seemed suffocating when he was left alone with only his thoughts turning over in his head. He would have much preferred to have you locked in his arms than the host of memories that stirred violently behind his closed eyes.
He tightly gripped the blanket. Were you merely punishing him for his surly attitude the night previous? His rejection of you had been cooler than intended but he believed his insistence on having you stay was more than enough to placate the chagrin you may have felt.
More disgruntled than he would’ve liked to admit, he found himself wandering the halls in the direction of your room just to see if you had indeed gone to bed without him. To his delight he found the light of your room still glowing beneath the door, if you were indeed trying to punish him, he figured it would be easy enough to dispel you of such a frivolous notion once you were at the whims of his proficient hands. He knocked softly on the door but you gave no answer. A further series of wraps came in quick succession, none loud enough to alert the attention of any other inhabitants, but it should have been enough for you to hear from inside. Were you really intent on making him suffer by freezing him out? The very thought left him malcontented; he certainly would not stand for such insolence.
Undeterred, he turned the doorknob, pleased to find it unlocked he stepped inside as though he’d been invited. A pang of remorse hit him and quickly allayed any scorn he may have felt over your perceived abandonment when he found you in a heap on the bed, fast asleep and still dressed in the clothes you’d worn to dinner. He shook your shoulders to rouse you, he hated to wake you, but you couldn’t very well stay like that. If nothing else, you at least needed to undress and be properly fitted for bed. Your face strained as you were pulled from sleep. Groggy and bleary-eyed, you gazed upon Dio’s hazy countenance as you tried to blink away the last remnants of sleep. “Dio… what are you doing here?”
“I believe I came to ask you the same question. I’d expected you to be in my bed hours ago.”
“What time is it?” You yawned, only just then did you realize that you were still dressed.
“It’s half past two, my dear.”
“Are you serious? I hadn’t intended to fall asleep like that,” you groaned, nearly falling back onto the bed in dismay.
“I suppose it can’t be helped,” he remarked with a casual shrug, “perhaps you would like me to assist you out of your dress?”
“Hmph, I see what you really came here for,” you huffed as you crossed your arms defiantly, but you stood to your feet nonetheless.
“Oh, can a gentleman not offer aid to his lady without the purity of his intentions being called into question?”
“Hm, perhaps a gentleman can but you will recall that I am more than familiar with your very ungentlemanly tendencies.”
“My dear, do you really think so poorly of me?”
“I don’t know, your mouth is saying one thing but your hands are saying another.” His fingers pressed slightly into the supple flesh of your hips. His touch was so deeply enticing that you eased into the overwhelming comfort that merely being in his arms provided.
“My dear, I do apologize for my choleric temperament this evening. Perhaps I should have better prepared you for events such as these, I wasn’t expecting something so soon, I know this has been quite an eventful week for us both, I should have taken that into account.”
“It’s alright, I’ll just have to adjust. If this is a part of your life, then it’s going to have to be a part of mine because I will never not be a part of yours. Besides, I am not upset about the dinner, I was just out of my element and after everything that happened this morning, it was just more than I had bargained for. It seems things went well for Erina and Jonathan though.”
“Oh, well, is that not wonderful for them?” He snickered as his hands began to roam over your body. You exhaled softly and felt your body melt into his touch, “would you like me to help you dress for bed?”
“Yes, I think that would be most appropriate,” you crooned as you spun around to allow him access to the ties.
His hands were heavy against your body as he unfastened your dress. The fabric slackened and gave way as he slipped the dress from your frame. The heavy material fell to the floor in a mess of jade taffeta. Dio’s breath hitched when he saw your figure clad in a fitted corset and stockings. “Darling…” he breathed as his hands roved over the structured bodice, toying with the glossy laces as if acknowledging just how expertly the garment had been fitted to your frame.
“Like what you see?” You simpered as you undid the fastenings of your underskirt and let it too, join the pool of fabric that decorated your feet. Down to nothing but your skimpy undergarments, you turned back to face him and leaned into his arms. His breathing faltered as his hands crept down your body, one stopping on your hip while the other ventured further to toy with the hem of your stockings. “My, I wouldn’t have thought you’d be so impressed by something seemingly so commonplace. I’d find it hard to believe you’ve never seen a woman dressed down to her corset.”
“Hm, it’s not the sight of the clothes, but rather the woman it’s on, you look radiant.”
“Well, aren’t we charming tonight? Perhaps I should leave you to your lonesome more often if it yields such astonishing results.”
“You needn’t be so cruel, you know how dearly I love you.”
“Who knew spending half the night alone would turn you into such a needy mess, Dio Brando-oh.” Your taunts faded to an airy groan when you felt him begin to trail kisses along the swell of your breasts, which, to his delight, had been pushed up enticingly high on your chest thanks to the support of your corset. His plush lips radiated against your skin and his finely gasping breath was enough to prickle your skin with goosebumps.
He stopped at the hem of your corset and let his fingers trace a path along the rigid boning. You felt another groan catch in your throat when his hand reached your panties. “Love—?”
“Yes.”
Your eager acceptance of his advances was more than enough to crush any restraint he had as he immediately dropped to his knees and continued kissing along your inner thighs and nipping at the fabric of your panties. Briefly, he nuzzled against your sex before pulling your panties to the side to look at your sex. The honey tones of his eyes filled with an insatiable hunger, the urgency could be felt in the way he kissed your clit before settling between your folds. The taste of you alone was enough to excite his senses. He zealously lapped at your pussy, each long, greedy lick was enough to leave him nearly drunk as the sweet taste of your arousal coated his tongue. He gave a lascivious moan that vibrated against your dripping core and expressed his deep approval for your heavenly taste.
The sudden intensity startled you. Your unsteady legs wobbled once his body was no longer fully supporting you.“Can you stand?” He asked with genuine concern in his voice, though he was less than enthusiastic about the interruption.
“Maybe. Not well,” you admitted, concerned that the only thing keeping you upright was the one arm he had coiled tightly around your waist.
“Come here,” he instructed in that blunt, demanding tone that made you weak to him and then backed you onto the bed, catching the hem of your panties and sliding them off of you as you sat back on your bed. He took a moment to appreciate how you looked in nothing but a corset and stockings with your cunt completely exposed to him. Once he drank in enough of your appearance to assure him the image would never escape his memory, he pulled himself onto the bed and situated himself between your legs. “You’re beautiful,” he crooned with glassy, half-lidded eyes as two fingers spread your pussy to offer him an uninterrupted view of your glistening entrance, “so beautiful.” Your face flushed as he admired you with an approving smirk on his face.
He licked along the entirety of your sex, his tongue swirled over your clit and cascaded smoothly between your folds. Instantly your head fell back against the mattress as the sensation jolted through you. “Oh…” your breaths came out ragged and labored in an attempt to keep any other vocalizations to a minimum as your body tensed under his efforts.
“Just relax, dear,” he whispered, a sweet, mellifluous tone coated his low, husky voice, one that only further incited your desperate desire. His tongue dragged along your needy cunt with scrupulous precision before endeavoring to dip inside you.
“Dio!” Your voice squeaked, high and shrill in an attempt to stifle the noise. “Oh god, just like that.”
He gave an approving hum that led you to writhe spasmodically beneath him. His large hand spread across your pelvis to diminish the heedless thrashing. The impedance only amplified the already fiery embers that tingled from your toes through your stomach. You gripped fervently at his hair and clamped your hand over your mouth to forbid the ferocious cries to be heard by anyone outside the sanctity of the room as your orgasm crashed over you in one splendorous instant.
You were left with a heaving chest and racing heart as you came down from your peak to bask in the afterglow as Dio sheepishly crawled to your side and drew you into his arms. “Thank you…” you tittered with a hint of bashfulness in your tone that underlined your pliant condition.
“Always such pleasant manners, perhaps we’ll make a proper lady of you yet,” he purred and he pressed a searing kiss into the nape of your neck as his fingers traced over the lacing of your corset. “But really, my dear, you were particularly stunning tonight.”
“Well, you seemed to have enjoyed it at least.”
“I certainly did,” he whispered rather sensually with another kiss to the back of your neck before he began unlacing your corset. The rigid material slackened and you hung your shoulders in gratitude for the sudden lack of restriction.
You gave a rather unladylike stretch as Dio freed you of the garment which now appeared to be little else but a tangled mess of ribbon. “Perhaps I wasn’t meant to be a lady after all,” you chortled as you laid back on your bed, feeling much freer than before and only partially aware of the rows of red indentations that decorated your skin from your improper corsetry.
“That may be so, but I think I would adore you either way,” he said with an inflection of sly sensuality as he let his hands explore your bare body in all of its allure, but the sentiment was true enough, he adored your charmingly tomboyish ways even if at times he found you a bit roguish and unrefined, he certainly had no intention of seeking to alter you in any sort of way. You were, to him, a vision of perfection that could never be replicated because every soft curve and rough edge had sprung from your perplexing and unbelievable existence and all of it had come to be a perfect fit for him. He cupped your breasts gently as if the feeling was entirely new to him. “Darling…” he crooned, something unprecedentedly soft in his voice, “how incredibly beautiful you are. No one else could ever compare.”
“Such flattery, I can only assume you’re trying to get somewhere.”
Dio clicked his tongue as if in disapproval of your assumptions, but of course your observation had not been without merit as he pulled his shirt over his head and coiled his arm around your waist to cage you against his colossal frame. Pleased by the rich warmth of his chest, you leaned against him, almost malleable to his tender caresses. He shifted against you with a slight rocking of his hips and you could’ve sworn that you heard a moan catch in his throat. His erection was straining against the fabric of his pajama bottoms, unashamed, he tugged at the hem of his pants until he managed to rid himself of their constraint. Free of any inhibitors, he pulled your body tightly against his, each subtle sway of his hips allowed you to feel how hard he was for you. He breathed heavily into your ear, “my love, what would you like me to do?”
Had he seen the wily smirk on your face, he may have been made uneasy, but with his head slotted into the crook of your neck, kissing down the curve to your shoulder, he was none the wiser. “I would like for us to go to bed.”
A croaky hiss escaped him as his eyes shot open. “Dear, you must recognize… that I am a bit…”
“Oh, but love, I am so tired after such a busy day. You do understand, don’t you?”
“You… you’re toying with me…” he muttered, so genuinely aghast that he could hardly even form the words.
“Perhaps,” you let your hips rock ever so slightly against him to egg him on, “I do love seeing you so lacking in control.”
“To think you could be such a brat,” he chided, only just getting the snarled words out before an errant groan fell from his slightly parted lips.
“Ooh, name-calling, we must be serious. I can tell how badly you want me.”
“I do.”
“Then say it.”
“Do you think I would stoop so low as to beg?” He sneered, but another soft groan was felt against your shoulder as he rolled his hips against you, his erection had fully nestled itself between your thighs.
“I think you might.”
“I do believe you are trying to punish me for rejecting you last night.”
“Not at all, it was your right, but I do like seeing you get so worked up.”
“How cruel,” he whined. The sensation was almost unbearable as he brushed his cock against your slick cunt. “Darling… please.”
“Oh, what was that?” You simpered as you tilted your hips ever so slightly to offer him a better angle to rut against you.
“Please dear, I want you.”
“Tell me then, tell me how badly you want me. Tell me how badly you need me.”
You could feel the strain in his breath as he exhaled, the warmth pooling against your neck like muggy summer air. “I need you. I need to fuck you. I need to feel you. Dammit, I need to be yours.”
“Oh, is that so?” You snickered as you rolled your hips to meet him. His needy whines grew more desperate as his cock dragged along your slick cunt.
“Please,” he ventured again as his fingers dug into your hips to hold himself grounded. “Darling, I love you, I love you so dearly. You mean more to me than you could possibly know. There has never been another woman so perfect for me. I need you, now, like this, and every other way.”
“Then have me.”
He breathed a sigh of relief, taking that as all the consent necessary to fuck you as he intended. So blinded by his desperation was he that he didn’t even attempt another position, he had to have you right there. His arms cemented around you, your body was pulled impossibly close to him, the warmth of his firm chest drenched you in comfort, in an instant you felt all the unpleasantness of the day fade into nothing.
Dio held you still, one firm hand on your hip while the other lined his cock up with your entrance. He slipped into you with a smooth, easy glide, filling you so entirely in the way you remembered but were never fully able to grow accustomed to. Completely buried inside you, he let out a groan, one far too loud for the stillness of the night. “Shh, Jonathan’s room is just down the hall. Be quiet.”
He scoffed, who were you to chastise him about volume when you were the one that was so incapable of stifling your amorous cries? Moreover, what did he care if Jonathan heard? He knew that Jonathan would never tell their father and the flustered looks Jonathan would give him would merely be an added bonus. But he appeased you by muffling his sounds into your shoulder.
He eased into a smooth, comfortable rhythm that immediately had your body rocking to meet his. The constraint of this lazy sex made each feeling all the more intense. Each slow roll of his hips sent a jolt through your body as you felt the brilliant heat of orgasm bubbling up within you again. His arms wrapped around your waist to anchor you to him, had he not been so desperate to have you, he would have been embarrassed by his neediness. But the softness of your body felt undeniably welcoming as he pulled you impossibly close and curled his body around your small but supple figure. You let out a soft moan upon feeling so enveloped in his warmth, only further goaded into your fancies when he nestled his head further into your shoulder accompanied by a few feather-light kisses. The slow, listless rocking of his hips continued while he tenaciously clung to you. Against your back, you could feel the muscles of his abdomen tighten as he drove deeper into you. This position proved surprisingly efficient as he was able to draw you in as close to him as he pleased so as to seek out the optimal angle that assured him that you were feeling every inch of his formidable length. The pleasure mounted as his hand slid down your waist and blindly found your clit. A sharp exhale that was closer to a yelp punctuated the quiet. You could feel him chuckle into the back of your neck, satisfied by how he’d been able to unravel you so sufficiently.
To cover any errant moans, you snaked your arm up around his neck and pulled him roughly into a kiss. His free hand cupped your cheek in acceptance of this new affection. Your tongue brushed against his lips, urgently searching for more. He eagerly obliged this desire and parted his lips to you. Immediately your tongue entangled with his in a messy fervor that was made all the more intense by the lingering reverberations of your shared moans. Your breathing had become irregular and shallow once again as tightness pinched in your pelvis. Your lips pressed more vehemently against Dio’s to catch the flurry of groans that spilled forth as he attempted to steady your squirming hips. Violently, you broke the kiss and buried your face in your pillows to cover the indecent noises you were making. “Dio, oh god!” His name and a litany of praise poured from you in a muffled melange of disorganized fragments that only became less coherent as you reached your peak. Your moans were enough to ramp up his desires and his erratic, rhythmless thrusts into you were enough to send you over the edge. You haphazardly gripped your sheets as the simmering heat of your orgasm ran through your body.
Certain that you’d finished, Dio grabbed brutishly to your hips to keep you firmly held in place while he sought his own release. Lifting one of your legs find a more opportune angle to fuck you even deeper. Soft groans escaped your pliant body as you limply accepted each hectic thrust. “Fuck,” he moaned in what seemed to drag out into a desperate whine as he buried his face into your neck. “You feel so good, too goddamn good.” His praise drifted into a faint slurred mess of groans and curses, all caught within the frenetic muddle of lustful actions. With far greater force than you had previously, he jerked you into another kiss. The reverberations of his generous moans echoed against your mouth and only served to pull you further into the dreamy bliss you’d lingered in since your orgasm. His hips sputtered against you and his large hand splayed across your stomach to lock you against him as he finished into you. “God…” he whispered as if considering a further thought but abandoning it in favor of nuzzling into your hair and letting the sweet smell of your hair bury any disconcerting thought of his indecorous desperation.
In the aftermath of the euphoria he sighed, his body relaxed and you could feel the weight of his tired body leaning against yours. After a brief moment to regain himself after the warm bliss that followed his orgasm, he reoriented himself back onto his side and pulled you along with him, keeping his arms firmly locked around you to prolong the connection. Your hips lightly swayed against his to see if you could motivate him to go another round, but both of your bodies were met in utter exhaustion as he nestled his face into your neck and finally withdrew himself from you. You were left with a feeling of emptiness without him inside you, so you turned to curl up against him as he properly situated himself into your bed. “I take it you would not object to me staying the night.”
“Not at all,” you said as he drew you in closer.
“Excellent, because I always sleep better when you’re in my arms.”
“Oh, so you’re saying that you actually did come here like a lost puppy to beg for cuddles?”
“Must you be so cruel to me?” He huffed with a look of irritation written in the lines of his furrowed brow. “You act as though it’s wrong for me to find comfort in the presence of my beloved.”
“I— no, but…” you sighed deeply and turned to face him, “Dio, you need to be able to talk to me about the things you’re feeling and not just days or years after something’s happened but when you're in the midst of feeling it too. Even when it’s uncomfortable, you have to be able to talk to me.” His face twisted into a contemptuous scowl that was worn in accompaniment with a harsh glare under his narrowed eyes. You cupped his cheek in an attempt to soothe the scornful expression. “You know that I’ve only ever wanted to help you, but I can’t do that when you retreat into yourself like that. Please, you can tell me anything, you will always have my support. I know you like to mull things over in your head until you find the perfect words, but you don’t have to be perfect with me. I love the fractured and unpolished parts of you as much as I love your many fine attributes.”
“I—” he swallowed thickly before taking a deep breath and netting your gaze once again with a softer, more understanding expression. “I am sorry, my dear, you must believe me.”
“Don’t be sorry, be my partner. I need you to talk to me. I need you to tell me what you’re feeling when you feel it. I love you so completely, but love isn’t enough on its own. To make this work, we need to be honest with each other, even about the bad things. I adore you and I want to help you however I can, but it hurts when you brush me off like it’s nothing. It makes me feel… confused because I know that you love me but… please, don’t push me away.”
He kept his eyes narrowed to a slender sliver that only showed the briefest glint of deep gold as he huffed, unable to hide the glowering look on his face. “I’m aware. And I do apologize if my actions made you feel at all insignificant to me. You are not.” He sighed and let the tension in his body ease a bit. “You are the singular most important thing to me. I am so fortunate to experience the gentle adoration you have for me. It is akin to nothing that I have ever known before and I am certain that nothing could compare should it be lost to me. I love you. And while I did not understand the finer meaning behind those words before, I have been allowed to learn it for myself with such easy tenderness that I do not think I could return to a time before it was mine to call home. But you must know that I have not taken the time to deeply reflect on the impact my past actions have had on others. It was easier to not. Being forced to confront such unpleasantness has left me… conflicted.”
“Then be conflicted, be troubled; let yourself feel all of those things, but be with me.”
He gritted his teeth and held on to your hand with brows furrowed tightly together.
“I know it’s hard and you are so very strong for facing it all head-on. A lesser man would not. And I promise that everything you’re feeling is okay. Even if it’s unclear right now. We will make sense of it together. I know things feel heavy right now, but you don’t have to bear your burdens alone, not anymore. You have carried the weight of the world with you, and I am here to lessen your troubles, you can give me as many as you need until you are ready to face them.”
“I will not overburden you with my follies, and…” he exhaled sharply and let his shoulders fall in dissatisfaction, “I don’t want to be my father, but that… what I did back then; that was my father’s rage. After all the times I watched him brutalize my mother I turned around and did the same. At times it feels as though I’ve been cursed, I have that same vindictive fury, that same damnable rage. It’s as though it could consume me and it takes everything I have to keep it at bay. Notwithstanding my best efforts, I was unable to quell such violent anger.” Tears prickled in his eyes and stung against his cheeks. “I don’t want to be my father, but I fear I’m fated to end up the same miserable wretch he was.”
You touched his face softly and trailed your thumb under his eye to wipe away the tears. “Look at me, you are not your father and you are not who you were back then. We are greater than the sum of our parts. What you did back then is just one part of you, but you have become so much more than that.” You brushed away the messy strands of hair that had fallen into his face. “I know it’s hard, I know it hurts. Let it, let yourself feel everything and let me be there to catch you. Have I not proven myself worthy of being your partner?”
“More than worthy.” He hummed as his arms draped heavily around you. “Worthy of my time, worthy of my love, worthy of your place at my side, worthy of being mine. I would never waste my time on an unworthy thing. You, my dear, are most worthy.”
Notes:
I know this was a lot but I do sincerely hope you enjoyed!
I said that this was my favorite chapter and though I of course, love every thing I post, this one has a special place in my heart because I just adore writing a version of Dio that works through his emotions and I've said it before but I'll say it again, his worst fear is turning into his father and I think that fear would only be amplified if he were to find love.Anyway, I promise the next chapter will be less bulky than this one, in fact, this remains the longest chapter I've written thus far even though I'm currently writing chapter 52 and I hope it stays that way because this was a doozy to edit.
I hope to post again soon, I've got a lot of things planned not only for this fic but for some other projects too, so until then, feel free to leave a comment if you feel so inclined or check out my tumblr where you can ask me anything you like in my ask box, sometimes it takes me a hot minute to reply but I appreciate all your kind words so immensely and promise I will!* also, happy 200,000 words to me! Yippie!
Chapter 39: Afternoon Delight
Notes:
I have finally returned and I am here to bring you the most self indulgent chapter ever written ever. I mean, this whole fic is self-indulgent, but this chapter is on another level.
Enjoy!!!
(See the end of the chapter for more notes.)
Chapter Text
The following day you had arisen just as the thin morning light began to peek in through the windows. To your surprise, you found yourself alone in your bed. Had it not been for your curious state of undress, you may have thought the brilliant ardor of the previous night was nothing more than an elaborate, though certainly rather pleasant dream.
In fact, it was long before the tender caress of dawn that Dio had awoken in your bed. Your soft, sleepy body was always a comfort when his mind swirled with unease. With the end of such a tumultuous week drawing ever nearer, he was thankful for any moment spent beside you, but he still lacked the peace of mind to alleviate the sordid recollections that continuously plagued him. He knew he loved you; that much was obvious to one as intelligent as he. Sometimes it perturbed him exactly how much he loved you, how he could get lost in fantastical dreams of a future with you, a real, upright, honest-to-goodness future with you. One that was slow and soft and certain. Moreover, he could not even fathom the thought of his life without you. It was deeply unsettling just how much he needed you and it stirred him, a bit disconcertedly, to recall that, in your tiny hands, you held his heart and with one cruel or careless action you could shatter and ruin him beyond any hope of repair, but even armed with that knowledge, he could not begin to consider such an unpleasant idea even as remotely plausible, for when he was with you, he felt an unimaginable security like nothing he had ever known before and, frightening as it was, he knew that he was completely and invariably yours, even if he could not admit as much outright to you with the courage and candor of so many young lovers.
For the whole of his life, Dio had never fancied himself able to belong to another person. Not absolutely and not in a way that left a meaningful impression on him. He had been so content to enjoy his lovers frivolously, to treat them as the passing fancies they were, and never give more than what was required of such careless affairs. But loving you demanded more, perhaps more than he had ever given and certainly more than he could ever give to another. For him, it was only you. And how strange it all was indeed. He was never even supposed to have met you. You and he were meant to be separated by a chasm more than a century wide. Two points that were impossible to connect, and yet you had done just that, you collided with him and became so deeply intertwined in the tapestry of his life. You stitched over all the frayed and tattered ends and made him whole. Through what was a truly bizarre set of circumstances, you had been brought right to him. It was as if the stars had aligned and chartered forth an entirely new path for him. And there was not a day that he regretted accepting your kindness and rebuilding his life from the rubble it had crumbled into the autumn previous. Even the tumult of stirring up such unpleasant remembrances wasn’t enough to sway that thought, nor deter the certainty of his devotion to you.
Yet in spite of how certainly he knew that to be true, everything Jonathan had said on Valentine’s Day hung heavy on his heart. Especially when coupled with the arduous nature of the night before’s conversation. It left him wondering if he was truly loving you properly. If you properly understood his adoration for you, or if his gestures were perhaps a touch insufficient.
So against his better judgment, he wandered the quiet halls until he came upon Jonathan, who was working quietly in his study with the door left slightly ajar. Dio peered inside with trepidation weighing on his steps as he ventured further and leaned against the door frame with lines of deep agitation carved into his brow as he stood with arms crossed over his chest.
“Oh, good morning, Dio!” Exclaimed Jonathan in surprise, though he managed to retain a degree of politesse in spite of his interjection, “you’re up rather early today.”
“Hmph, I could say the same of you, dear brother.”
“I mean no harm, I just thought you would want to spend the morning with your wonderful girl, especially with so little time left to her stay here.”
“I’m aware, JoJo. What is it that you’re up to so early on this lovely morning?” Dio asked spitefully and quickly scanned over the mess of papers that decorated Jonathan’s desk.
“Hm? I'm just reviewing the notes I’ve collected regarding the mask. I start my position at the university on Monday, I thought I’d mentioned it to you beforehand, my apologies,” Jonathan said while shuffling the scattered papers and rearranging them into one neat stack. “But we both know you haven’t come here to discuss my employment. So why have you come?”
“I was wondering… JoJo,” Dio began, but before he could get any further, his pride inhibited further geniality, and his so irascible nature took precedence, “I will have you know that I took great offense to your insinuation that I would be incapable of showing affection for my beloved unless through amorous means. I can assure you that I adore her beyond any measure of comprehension and am fully capable of loving her in any manner that she should require.”
“I’m sure you are.”
“I most certainly am.”
“I am sorry if I offended you, Dio, but I don’t see your purpose in soliciting my assistance so early in the morning if you have nothing else to say.”
“I am not looking for your assistance, JoJo. I have merely come to ask that… had you been in my place, what would you have considered a suitable means of celebration?”
“Well, Dio, I think that’s ultimately a conversation to be had between you and her. I cannot speak to the parameters of your relationship.”
“That’s not what I… what did you do for Erina?” Dio asked, finally swallowing his pride enough to tackle the root of the matter. He grimaced the moment the words had been spoken, but still he waited, deflated ego and all.
“Really, Dio, it won’t be anything quite as scandalous as you may be considering.”
“Indulge my curiosity then, won’t you JoJo?”
“Well, to be honest, I just wanted to spend the day with her. After so much time apart, I’ve been taking the time to understand the person she’s become. As such, I let her take the lead. I had intended to take her alone for a picnic, but it was her suggestion to invite you along so we could have our discussion under more pleasant circumstances.”
Dio’s brows remained knitted together in vexation. “That does not offer me much, JoJo. I already know her well; we have spent the last several months in our own quiet sanctuary. I know her as well as is humanly possible.”
“Well, Dio, if it is my help you’re after—”
“Not help per se, JoJo, I’m merely looking for inspiration.” Dio tacked the qualifier onto Jonathan’s suggestion; his vanity would not allow him to admit so without it.
Jonathan laughed heartily, thinking it best to spare his brother some pride and allow him his petty semantics. “Well, perhaps you could try asking her what she would like to do and fulfill some of her fantasies.”
“I suppose I could, but it’s not as though she’s familiar with the area, you know well that she spent her youth in America.”
“Then that’s all the more reason for you to show her all the places you used to enjoy when we were boys. I’m sure she would love to see the town.”
“JoJo, you know that I, Dio, am not one to cling to such cloying sentimentalities.”
“Last autumn, I would have believed that, but now, I’m not quite so sure. The way you are with her, how you’ve changed for her, I can’t help but think you just might be.”
Dio was helpless to hide the scowl that crept across his face, one just shy of contempt and almost embarrassed as he scoured his mind for words that only expressed the slightest hint of pique, “I suppose I will consider it,” he scoffed, more crassly than he would have wanted, but it did well to conceal the extent of his emotions and with nothing left to say, he turned on his heel to leave.
“Dio,” Jonathan called in a pleasant voice just above a whisper, “before you go, I would dearly like to thank you for yesterday. For giving your best effort, for Erina and for me. I can see now just how much you have worked to change, and I thank you for doing so. You should know that my door is always open, should you need something from me, as both your brother and your friend.”
Dio said nothing and only continued the stroll back down the hall. There was a curious twisting in his chest as he pondered the importance of those words and all they meant to him. He had hardly considered Jonathan a brother before, much less a friend. In his hardened mind, he hadn’t the need for either. Or so that is what he had thought. But now it all felt so strange and alone with this swirling mind, it was all much harder to come to terms with.
While Dio did not consider his brother to be particularly well-versed when it came to romantic affairs, his immutable devotion to Erina was nothing if not admirable, perhaps that had been a quality that Dio never had appreciation for, in fact, not so long ago, he would have found it foolish to forge such unyielding commitment to a solitary person, but that was before you, and now, there was only you. You for him and he for you. What a horridly saccharine platitude it was; the very thought should have nauseated him, and yet the underlying sentiment held true. So at last, armed with what advice Jonathan had given him, he contrived a rather satisfactory plan for an exhilarating albeit somewhat belated Valentine’s Day celebration.
And by the time you awoke, dawn had broken, and you were alone in your bed. You pulled yourself up, a bit unnerved by his absence as you began your newly adopted morning rituals. You tried not to dwell in it, perhaps there was nothing in it, after all, he wouldn’t want to risk being seen exiting your room during such tender hours lest a rather awkward conversation be called to order, but as with everything, you felt a nagging worry that he may have been dissatisfied with you, especially after the daunting discussion you had forced him to engage in. And maybe after so unpleasant a discussion, he could not be blamed for acting a bit standoffish.
You were sitting in front of your vanity, looking a bit worse for wear with the shadow of your makeup still smudged around your eyes from your hasty attempt to remove it the night before. Then you noticed the note. On a small piece of paper, Dio had written you instructions to meet him that morning at nine o’clock sharp. You sighed and glanced at the clock on the nightstand. That only gave you half an hour to be ready. With so little to go on in the cryptic scrawling of his elegant handwriting, you were left ill-prepared for whatever he had planned.
You dressed swiftly, donning a soft linen gown and meandering out into the hall with your dress swaying gently around your legs with each step.
Dio stood half leaning against the farthest wall of the corridor, dressed in a fine navy blue suit that you felt was a touch too formal for an easy Saturday morning, but you could never deny his impeccable style. “Ah, there’s my little darling, I trust you are well rested,” he crooned quite sensuously as he approached you from across the hall.
“Certainly so,” you said as you found your way into his grasp, “though I was surprised to find you’d gone.”
“My dear, I had certain things to get in order, but now I have reserved the rest of the day for you and only you.”
“Isn’t every day already for me?”
“Hmph, and you have the gall to call me arrogant?” He chided with an accompanying gesture of great offense, “and you may perhaps be right; however, I have something special planned for today.”
“Oh, something special, you say? Will that be your room or mine? Or perhaps you’re feeling more daring and would like to have me in the library.”
He frowned slightly upon your suggestion, “dear, do you really think I would be so shameless as to proposition you in such an uncivilized manner? I assure you that I enjoy far more than just your body, and I very much intend to treat you properly.”
“I-I know, that wasn’t meant as a slight,” you tittered and let your hands come to rest on his shoulders, “I am excited for whatever you have planned, even if it doesn’t involve that.”
“I would have assumed you got your fill last night. Must you always be so rapacious, even when I am virtuous in my intentions?”
“Last I checked, you were the one begging and whining to be inside me after you caught the tiniest glimpse of me in a corset.”
“Oh, my dearest girl, you think you can offend me with your churlish remarks, but you have been sorely mistaken. I am not ashamed of desiring my woman so openly, especially if she is wearing something… tantalizing,” he hummed and, leaning into you, his strong, wandering hands caressed down your sides.
“Well, in that case, I will have to find something that you’ll find equally as arousing.”
“Now, my little darling, you should know that I find you enchanting in just about anything.”
“And in nothing,” you added with a coy smile.
“Ahem, if you are through being so horrendously unmannerly, then I would like to treat you like the proper young lady I know you are so capable of at least pretending to be.”
“Fine, fine, if you're insisting, I suppose I wouldn’t say no to being doted on.”
“Then, right this way mademoiselle,” he purred, looping his arm around your waist and guiding you out onto the terrace where the table was set for breakfast. It looked quite lovely beneath the slats of scattered sunlight that broke ephemerally through the heavy clouds that otherwise left the sky cast in the dreary tones of February. In spite of the brisk air and waning winter atmosphere, the slight glow of the candles suffused the small balcony with all the warmth of the sunniest day in June.
“Is all of this really just for me?”
“Certainly, but to be shared with me, of course.”
“How terribly romantic, my good sir,” you declared in an obnoxiously haughty accent.
“My dear, it’s as though you’ve forgotten just how romantic I can be.”
“Now my love, you know that couldn’t possibly be true, I know you better than anyone,” you said playfully, taking the same tone of mock indignation that he so often did, then, as if in subtle capitulation, you lifted your cup of coffee as a measure of gratitude and sipped the rich, dark liquid. In the 19th century, good coffee was an exceptional rarity, but what the Joestars served was decidedly good, even for your twenty-first century palate. In fact, all of the food and drink they served was nothing less than top shelf, and you felt incredibly grateful to have such luxury at your disposal.
And it was quite a spread that Dio had laid out for you, a bounty of thick slices of bread with butter and various fruit jams and marmalades and Devonshire cream, a selection of meats, and fresh eggs. More than enough to appease the appetite you acquired from yesterday's meager dinner. “This is quite a generous display, though I am surprised your father would allow you such liberties.”
“I do believe Father understands the importance of proper courtship; you are free to consider it as such.”
“Courtship? My, how terribly upright and proper indeed, one may find it easy to forget the vulgar acts you’ve committed between my sheets, Lord Brando,” you smirked with shrewd eyes peering keenly over the rim of your coffee cup.
“Oh, and if I were to assume such an important title, would you not graciously accept the title of Lady?”
“I would be content enough as your wife.” You began to chuckle nervously the moment the words tumbled out of your mouth and quickly bit into your bread to keep any other embarrassing confessions at bay.
“Would you?” He purred as his lips curled into a devilish smirk. You responded with only a tiny nod, smiling sheepishly at the mere prospect. “Well, I do believe either title would suit you nicely.”
Heat rushed to your face, bringing with it a lively flush to upon cheeks. You swallowed harshly and tried to restore your lost composure; however, the diffident expression on your face only further betrayed you. Dio only mustered a laugh; he always found your shyness in the face of his bold advances to be particularly endearing. Ever so honest in disposition in a way that he was sure he was simply not capable of, and thus every little action belonging only to you seemed to hold an ancient magic that was only contained within your elfin frame. Standing on ceremony, he raised his glass, far more ostentatiously than you had before, as if to toast to you and your goodwill and blindly to whatever force had brought you before him.
Breakfast carried you into the final moments of the morning, and you were able to enjoy the splendid leisure that wrapped up such a hectic week. Shortly after you had completed your meal, a pair of punctilious servants came to clear the table of its contents, and then you were left with the rest of the day to indulge in whatever Dio had planned.
Without much delay, your journey had commenced, the carriage rolled into town and left you on a quaint little street corner. All around you, the world seemed glazed in idyllic pastel hues that you’d only really ever read about in fairytales or seen in some otherwise equally fantastical images that your mind had conjured up out of a dream. You took stock of your surroundings, all the scenic little stores were dressed in the freshness of the still infant year, a bakery on one corner that held the promise of fresh bread and pastries, ones far more decadent than what you frequently found available in your hometown. There were cafes, a florist, and even a jeweler, all added to the picturesque display. All around you people dressed in colorful garments flitted about you on errands of their own.
The town looked quite fair in the pale afternoon, scattered sun peeked through murky clouds that promised to bring rain as the being drew by, but the weather was surprisingly balmy for the middle of February. Truthfully, you would have loved to live there, enjoying all the fineries that money provided. It was not for any disliking of the town in which you lived, but simply that this place carried with it something evocative of your childhood, something you had long ago romanticized in your mind while daydreaming in the garden, but one you had never truly seen.
Dio kept his arm secured tightly around your waist as you walked over the cobblestone paths, effortlessly guiding you through the crowds in a way that assured you that all of his maneuvers were well-practiced. After meandering between shops and taking lunch at a cafe, you were left with little else to do but allow Dio to lead you through the zigzagging streets while he recounted certain esteemed anecdotes from his salad days, deliberate and confident in the words he chose as if he was knitting for you an elegant tapestry of the softer parts of the lives he had lived before you, all of which had been shown to you in mere scattered, fragmented pieces that only seemed to fuel your intrigue into the history still unknown to you. Your mind had done its best to fill in the gaps with your own suppositions, but when it came to Dio, you were certain any conjecture would fall spectacularly short of reality.
But still, you were content just to listen to any story he regaled to you; each one only served to further endear him to you regardless of the extent of the love and admiration you had for him. He was, as he had always seemed to you, a most intricate of creatures, burdened by a past he could not overcome and yet stoutly convinced of his own prowess in every corner of his existence, that it was often hard to rectify the state of contradiction, but it was that incongruity that made him all the more alluring to you.
“So is this where you got up to all your scheming?” You purred, coiling your fingers around the firm pillar of his bicep as you kept pace with his strides.
“My dear girl, no, I am a gentleman and as such I have always conducted myself with poise and gentility when in public. Any debauchery of my days as a derelict was left behind on the streets of London.”
“Or perhaps that was all reserved for the sanctity of your private quarters, I know you have always been one for showmanship,” you said, endeavoring a bolder display of roguish impudence that you knew both beguiled and simultaneously frustrated him.
“I simply knew what part I was meant to play, and by all accounts, I played it well. I find that most people don't care to look much further if they’re told what they want to hear. It was an easy enough game to win.”
“I see, then where do I fit into this little game?”
“You, my dearest, do not. That damn indomitable character and your incessant insistence on introspection, you, my dear, have demanded more of me than any other has ever attempted. I could have done my best to placate you in the way I had others in the past, but something tells me that you would have seen through even my most clever disguise. No, I had no other choice but to face reality in all its unpleasantness, and for all that it's worth, it has been my greatest challenge to date.”
“Then why make such an effort?” You asked, suddenly stricken with doubt in the face of such unwonted candor in his part.
“Is it not obvious? Because I am in love with you, and I believe I was already in love with you long before I knew what it meant and even before there was any predilection to romantic involvement, there was something far too enticing about that spirit of yours. You drew me in with far more than the promise of shelter in my time of need. You couldn’t not have expected me to simply walk away from something so tantalizing, now could you?” The grin that followed his speech was smug, as though he were certain that his words had charmed you as they invariably did, but behind the arrogant expression, there was a flicker of sincerity that suggested, even for all the grandiosity of his poetic musings, that he meant them entirely, perhaps even more than his pride would let him admit in so heartfelt a manner.
“I… I suppose…” you were robbed of any sensible response you may have cared to make when you felt his lips ghost against your ear as he mouthed a very clear ‘I love you.’ Crimson came flooding to your cheeks, and as if by a force greater than yourself, you became overwhelmed by the insurmountable need to kiss him, to tangle yourself in his arms, and let all the world know that you belonged only to each other. You moved to press your lips to his, but before the action could be completed, you were startled from your fervor by the ticking of several raindrops against the pavement. Chilly drops splashed against your face as you looked up at the shelf of grey that had stolen any trace of blue from the sky.
Before you could think to do anything, Dio had already begun shuffling you into the nearest doorway to keep from getting drenched by the rain. His hands were hot against your body as he held you close to him. There, hidden away in a private haven as the cold rain smattered the streets, everything felt far too perfectly in place. The ardent desire you’d been fending off became too great. You caught his lips and locked him in a deeply passionate kiss. You craned up to meet him. Standing on your tiptoes to close the difference in your height, you let your lips crash fervently onto his.
“My love, I think people may get the wrong impression…” he said, breaking the kiss only briefly to offer his breathy admonition.
“Then let them,” you declared, having drowned all of your inhibitions in favor of a far greater desire, “when we get home, I want you.”
“How bold,” he whispered and playfully nipped at the outer edge of your ear, “but if that is truly what you want, then your wish is my command.” He snapped his fingers and, as though by some force akin to magic, immediately hailed a cab, “now then, shall we?”
He ushered you inside before the rain could soak completely through your clothes, and truth be told, you were rather grateful for the shelter.
From the safety inside the carriage, you could hear the rain, which echoed dully against the roof of the carriage and blurred the windows with a mess of tiny droplets that ran in long oscillating streams and obstructed the scenery in a murky haze, but you cared little so long as you could stay wrapped warm in Dio’s loving arms.
“Tell me, if you will, when did you know for certain that you were in love with me?” You mused, looking up at him while your head rested against his chest.
“Really dear, I cannot endeavor to say,” he said in an offhanded way. His earlier admission was already enough to put him out of countenance
“Oh, do try, please, I simply must know.”
“I do believe that by the time I allowed myself to consider the notion, I was already so hopelessly lost within the sentiment that I couldn’t possibly guess where it started. But I believe I realized somewhere along the way that the thought of you only being mine during the brief moments when our bodies intertwined and then going back to nothing was simply not enough. I had never wanted so much of a person as I wanted from you. From the moment I met you, you were undeniably captivating, akin to nothing I’d ever seen before. I have always been left with the impression that you were made to fit me, to fit the things I lack.” He held your hand in his, spreading your fingers over his to reinforce how much larger his hands were before locking his fingers between yours and raising your hand to his lips. “You have so many qualities that I adore.”
“Oh, do tell.” All of his romantic talk had only served to feed your ego, leaving you a bit emboldened to taunt him.
“I believe a man is entitled to a handful of secrets.”
“Where’s the fun in that?” You pouted and sulkily folded your arms across your chest.
“Well, there is that adorable face of yours,” he sneered, poking your cheek, “but I meant what I said last night, even if uttered in less than decent circumstances, I meant it nonetheless. I need you, now and always. And I am entirely grateful that you are mine. I hope my devotion has been adequately expressed to you.”
You sat up and turned to face him, letting your hand cup his cheek with careful tenderness. “It is, you have grown so much in the time I’ve known you. It means so much to me when I see you trying your hardest. Even in my frustration the other night, I have nothing but admiration for you, and I love you as I have never loved another.”
Dio drew you in for a kiss that all but set you ablaze, then, in a somewhat ungainly action, he maneuvered you onto his lap. Though the position was rather impeded by the heavy, wet fabric of your dress, it did not stop Dio from enthusiastically caressing your body. The desire contained in each touch seemed to radiate off his fingertips, enough to set you alight. Slow and deliberate, as if intended to coax you further into that glaring need he knew you were longing for, but the urgency just behind the façade of methodical planning gave you the impression that he was just as eager as you.
“Can you simply not wait until we get home?” You jeered, a wild look in your eyes.
“My dear, do you think me no better than an over-zealous school boy? I have waited far longer for you than a measly carriage ride home. I will be just fine. The question is, will you?”
“Hmph, Dio, it appears that you think me no better than a school boy.”
“Oh, I just know how impatient my sweet girl can get when she’s needy. And I already know how eager she is,” He taunted as one hand gently cupped your breast.
“Dio—!” You cried abruptly when you felt your spine go completely rigid in response to his touches.
“Now, now, darling, let’s not get too worked up, we shall be home soon. And we wouldn't want to make the driver think something unsavory is occurring, now would we?”
You sat red-faced and nonplused, any pittance of control you may have had the previous night had been discarded, and you were once again made to realize how easy it was for him to urge you into such compromising positions. Outside, the streets went steadily on, disappearing under the uneasy carriage wheels that clattered and splashed into the puddles, stirring up the water that gathered in the crevasses of the streets until the imposing shadows of the Joestar mansion came into view. Low clouds hung about the roof and obscured the highest tower in its entirety.
By the time you reached your destination, the rain had turned to a wintry mix of sleet that stung against your skin as you walked up the long drive. Huddling against Dio as you waited at the door. A litany of profuse apologies came from the short-statured butler who answered the door. You appeased him with an airy chuckle and the promise that all was well. Declining his requests to have a bath prepared, Dio insisted that he would see to it that you were fully taken care of, surreptitiously offering you a mischievous grin as you mounted the stairs.
He quietly shuffled you down the hall and into his room, taking care to lock the door behind him. Perhaps as a formality, perhaps as an assurance of privacy, but either way, he was not about to entertain any disturbances during his time with you. “Now then, my love, I believe the rest of the day belongs to you,” he began in a familiarly romantic croon, “so why don’t you tell me exactly what you’d like to do? I will happily comply with whatever it is you decide.”
“Anything I want? That’s a rather dangerous prospect, don’t you think? I hadn't realized you were capable of such generosity,” you simpered, dragging out each word with a salacious hum as you trailed your fingers teasingly up his arm.
“Perhaps, but I’m leading with the assumption that you will be nice,” his arms wrapped lazily around your waist as he pulled you in and buried his face in the damp tendrils of your hair. “But first, I do think you’d be more comfortable out of these wet clothes,” he said while his lips curled into a lascivious smirk. To emphasize his intentions, his hands slowly roved over your body, causing the fabric of your dress to rumple and stick together in harsh creases. “May I?”
“You may,” you simpered and immediately felt him begin to undo the buttons of your dress with that familiar deftness that you had so often been privy to. “So polite, it appears being back home has indeed made you a proper gentleman.” The heavy fabric fell to the ground with a muffled thud. The chill became more apparent on your newly exposed skin than it had been before. Dio ogled you in just your underwear. A giddy expression covered his face as one hand crept below the hem of your panties in eager pursuit of a more thorough coital pleasure that you had not been so allowed throughout the week. “Hey, you said that this afternoon we’re doing what I want.”
He gave a brief, disgruntled scowl, but caught himself and softened back into a more agreeable disposition. “But of course, whatever the lady would like.”
You pulled away from him and staggered back on your heels as if in deep contemplation. “Hm, first, I think you should take these off.” You rubbed the fabric of his coat between your fingers and looked him up and down.
“If that is your wish,” he said with an assenting shrug and immediately complied with your desires. You draped your body over his bed, keeping your eyes fixed on him as he slowly removed each garment, sensually and deliberately, to assure you enjoyed the show.
Once fully undressed, he joined you on the bed. Pressing his body into yours so you could feel the beginning of his erection prodding against the dampened fabric of your panties. “Very good,” you commented and ran your fingers through his hair as though you were indeed offering high praise. “Alright, now I’d like you to put on your rugby uniform.
He looked down at you quizzically, but you only offered him a wily simper and a gleaming smirk that assured him you were entirely serious in your request. “Dear…” he began hesitantly, but got off the bed regardless.
“You said you would do whatever I want, and I want to see you in your rugby uniform.”
“In that case, I may remind you that you already have.”
“No, no, you are not going to deny me on a technicality. Seeing it in a newspaper does not count. I have to see the real thing. Besides, maybe I want to do more than just see you in it.”
“Well, in that case, how can I not oblige my dearest girl’s desires?”
He turned to his wardrobe and began shuffling through his various clothes. With seemingly no further use for it, it had been tucked away many months ago, even before his absence. He found it neatly folded in the back of a drawer, seemingly to keep it far from both memory and reach, but he had managed to retrieve it nonetheless. “You know, dear, this is quite a silly request,” he sneered as he donned the clothes which had thankfully been cleaned since he’d last worn them. “Well, what do you think, has it met your wildest expectations?”
You met him by the mirror and let your arms fall over his shoulders as you traced the definition of his muscular arms. “I’d say it exceeded them,” you muttered slyly, still exploring the expanse of his firm body. He pulled you in for a kiss and allowed his hands to roam over your soft body. “You do look quite nice in green,” you chuckled as your fingers walked across his broad chest, “and I had no idea men of this era were allowed to wear such slutty shorts. Methinks you’ve been holding out on me, good sir.”
“Hmph, after seeing the clothes of your generation, you can hardly call this slutty.” He turned back to the wardrobe and retrieved the dress you’d worn for him on Valentine's Day. “In fact, it really is such a shame that I was not able to enjoy this little thing as you had wanted me to. After all, I was the one who requested you bring it in the first place. Won’t you please allow me this small supplication?”
You pursed your lips, a bit unsure of the request, but his eyes looked so intoxicatingly endearing, soft and warm, as though he was prepared to beg if he had to; as such, you couldn’t help but answer his pleas. “Hand it here,” you said with a huff, taking on a sharper tone to at least hang onto the guise of control.
The thin fabric was cool against your slightly damp skin, and as the skirt flowed around your waist, you couldn’t help but admire yourself in the mirror, the dress, your figure, how you looked standing beside Dio. Beside him, you felt more beautiful than ever before. Truthfully, you hadn’t thought much about appearances before the affair began, but perhaps the steady stream of reassuring compliments he paid you had built your confidence. You felt as pretty in the austere garb of the 19th century as you did in the attire of your own time. At his side, you felt you had truly bloomed. Under other circumstances, you felt you may even be looking forward to another dinner party, even future lectures seemed pleasant affairs if Dio was at your side. A handsome couple you made indeed. He was it, your perfect compliment.
Dio pulled you close, his hands cascading down your body in further appreciation of the dress. “How stunning,” he whispered, rolling his hips against you. His erection strained against his shorts, looking rather comical with the loose fabric pitched to a tight peak.
You leaned in to each of his touches, palming over his cock to the pleasant sound of his breath hitching in need to feel you. “Sit on the bed, I want to ride you,” you breathed.
“Are you sure you’re ready for me?” He asked, the question was genuine enough, but there was an air of arrogance to his tone as he toyed with his erection, as if to remind you of its threatening size.
“Humility escapes you,” you said with a roll of your eyes.
“What need have I for humility?” He asked as he hooked a finger under the hem of your panties and pulled the fabric down to your thighs. Not wasting any time, two fingers dipped between your folds to spread the wetness that had accumulated. Having determined that you needed further preparation before you would be able to take all of him, he dropped to the floor before you and began sloppily lapping at your pussy and venturing messily over your inner thighs, and wherever else he ventured to taste. One hand held your dress, and the other snaked around your waist to keep you sufficiently supported. A new sense of urgency bloomed in his actions as he abandoned any worry if the lewd noises of his ministrations could be heard outside the walls of his bedroom, as his lips smacked against your dripping cunt. “I want you to cum like this,” he groaned, still enjoying the taste of you on his lips, “will you do that for me, love?”
“Yes,” you breathed, quickly biting your lip to stifle the sounds you so desperately wanted to make.
“Such a good girl,” he groaned, unashamed of the way his cock twitched with each repressed noise that spilled mellifluously from your luscious mouth. His arm tightened around your waist and pulled you closer to his face. The proximity only served to make each sensation more intense as his lips closed over your clit.
You covered your face in the crook of your elbow to keep your vocalizations at bay while the other hand found itself tangled in Dio’s messy hair, so eager for him to continue. “Dio I… so close… I need… just a little more… yes— God, yes!” Your words came fragmented and disjointed, spliced between muffled whines as you approached your peak. Tension pulled in your abdomen such that it required a great deal of effort to keep your knees from buckling under the intensity. “I’m… oh fuck!” The pleasure mounted, your head craned back, and your grip tightened in his hair as you stumbled back against the foot of his bed, as the heat of your orgasm coursed through your entire body like a wave crashing violently on the shore. You were momentarily left devoid of all thought as you lay on your back, staring blankly up at his ceiling. “You really are too good at that,” you muttered, still wrapped thoroughly in the ecstasy of the afterglow.
You felt the bed shift as he moved to lie beside you, a strong hand pinching your chin between his thumb and forefinger as he forced your eyes to meet his. “Hm, I like to think that I’m the best for you alone.”
“Charming as ever, I see,” you scoffed playfully, rolling your eyes and pulling yourself back onto your knees.
“For you, my dear? Always.”
“See, that’s what makes you so damn dangerous. It makes one wonder how many other girls fell prey to such bewitching seduction.”
A devious purr escaped his lips, “now, my dear, you wouldn’t want to waste your energy on such churlish insults, would you? Unless by chance you’re already too tired for anything more.”
“Never!” You cried, pulling him up into a seated position and entangling him in a messy kiss, your taste still lingering on his mouth, “now sit here just like this, I’m going to fuck you,” you snarled, gesturing for him to move to the end of the bed.
“So filthy.” He chided, though amusement danced in his eyes as he pinched your cheek and obliged your desire nonetheless by sitting on the edge of the bed.
You gave a small chuckle before gently spreading his knees and positioning yourself between them, “me, filthy? Well, only for you,” you purred, tugging at the band of his shorts until it slacked enough to free his erection, which slapped against his abdomen now that there was nothing to impede it. The muscle pulsed and throbbed in your hand as you stroked him gently, offering him a sly smirk before embarking on your next course of action.
Before he could think up a clever rejoinder, you’d already taken as much of his length as you could fit into your mouth, “l-love, this was meant for you,” he said through a breathy grunt, though selfishly, he certainly wished for you to continue for as much as he loved fucking your pussy, there was something inexplicably enticing about having you between his legs, trying your best to pleasure him, struggling to fit all of him in your mouth, it was far too delicious a scene to not captivate him and oh, how he had meticulously catalogued the image of every single instance within his memory.
“Oh, allow me to enjoy this for just a moment, I love the way you taste as well.”
“Well then, by all means, take as long as you’d like; I certainly will not complain.”
Without needing another word, you again wrapped your lips around the head of his cock and sucked gently. Immediately, his fingers wove into your hair, and he became far freer with his moans. Each time his cock hit the back of your throat and he heard those raspy little groans you made in an attempt to keep focus, a wave of pleasure was sent through him. Fuck, as much as you had praised the skills his mouth possessed, he was certain that yours at the very least matched his own… perhaps even surpassed his, though the thought was one that only begrudgingly occurred to him when he realized how disgracefully quickly you had worked him up to the brink of orgasm.
His legs shook where they framed your head, and the grip he had on your hair only tightened as the rhythm of his bucking hips grew more frantic.
But before he could enjoy the sensation anymore, you pulled his cock from your mouth with a wet pop and crawled up onto his lap to straddle him, “alright, that’s enough, I want you now,” you said, issuing it as more of a demand than a suggestion.
Immediately, he ensnared you in another kiss, dragging his tongue along your lips to beg for entry. You complied readily, allowing the ardor to seep into your being and hold you in the state of rapture. “Look at what you do to me, perhaps I am no better than a schoolboy after all,” he murmured after the kiss had broken, still shaken from how close he had been to cumming.
“And you look adorable,” you hummed softly, sucking a kiss into the ivory skin of his neck, leaving behind a lurid, garnet mark that he would have to be sure to cover up with a collar.
One of his hands held firm to your waist while the other wrapped around the base of his cock as he lined himself up with your needy entrance. The swollen head of his cock ached as you were spread around him, “shit,” he muttered, his voice was barely audible amidst the squelching sound of your wetness as you tentatively took more of him
His lips reverberated against yours as you sank down on him completely. He’d been with you so many times, but intimacy never failed to ignite his senses. He’d reveled in these shared moments for the last several months and felt certain he could never tire of such luxury. Even on the cusp of such great changes in his life, he knew you could remain consistent. All at once, he was struck with a curious sentiment. Having you like that, so unbelievably eager in your pursuit of him, he had to see all of you. He needed to watch as your body connected with his.
He fiddled with the zipper, studying the mechanical apparatus as if trying to determine if it would just be easier to tear the dress from you instead, it seemed flimsy enough. Making up his mind, he gripped the hem to find the optimal torque to rip the fabric.
“You break it, you buy it, Dio Brando!” You growled, making a daring attempt to reach your arm around your back and grab his wrist to stop his hands.
“Hmph, I could buy you something much finer than this,” he said with a grin, followed by a brusque click of his tongue, as if your apprehension was only a ploy to egg him on.
“Please,” you said, softening your tone considerably, “I don’t have a lot of things from my time, I’d really prefer it if you didn’t.”
Your pleading eyes struck a chord with him, and he could not bring himself to do it. “I understand,” he whispered, gently patting your shoulders in reassurance before swiftly undoing the zipper. In a flash, the fabric was heaved over your head and tossed to the ground at your feet. Greedy eyes darted over the entirety of your body, hands clasped around your waist to push you further down on him. “Fuck, you’re so tight.” Eagerly, his thighs cradled you in tandem with the rhythm you’d set, still a bit hesitant as you adjusted to his size.
His hips rolled into yours more urgently; the sensation of him so deep inside you was almost unnerving, and you could feel your balance beginning to falter. “Dio!” You cried, far too loud for this midafternoon tryst. Gritting your teeth to stop any further cries from spilling out of your mouth, you gripped a fistful of his shirt and buried your face in the expanse of his chest. “You feel so good.” Your words were muffled by the fabric as your hips jittered with little control. “I-I love you!” You groaned, giving into the unmitigated pleasure. Legs jerked to and fro in an attempt to keep your hips steady, Dio’s strong hands holding you firmly as he bucked into you. The frantic rhythm of each Thrust clued you into his approaching climax. “Dio! Make me cum! I want to cum!”
“There’s my girl,” he groaned, voice straining each time he brought you down. Gripping into the flesh of your hip with one hand and letting you freely set the pace, his hand fell between your thighs, groping wildly until he found your clit, instantly setting a rough pattern that left your head spinning and hands clawing mindlessly at his shoulders.
Partly due to how thoroughly he had enjoyed your mouth, it took more effort than he intended to stave off his own release as he pushed you towards yours. His ministrations only caused you to clench tighter around him. Your soft mewls only increased the glaring desperation he felt bubbling in his core.
“Don’t stop, don’t fucking stop!” You pleaded, only holding tighter to him. “Yes!” Your toes curled in anticipation, you could feel the muscles in your abdomen grow taut as the pad of his thumb drew deliberate circles on your clit. Keeping to a surprisingly steady rhythm in spite of your frantic movements. “Oh my… oh fuck.” The tension snapped, and the electric shocks splintered through you, leaving your skin afire as you crashed into him. Pliant after such wild intensity. Your body was left yielding to his actions, accepting him as his arms encircled your waist and held you firmly in place as he fucked you, rough and untempered. He paid little heed to any of the resulting sounds as he continued the brutish pursuit of his pleasure.
Your fucked out body babbled out a few incoherent phrases that seemed, at least to him, a sign of valiant praise, but no real meaning could have been ascertained from the garbled mess of words. That did not matter. Even your most meager of reactions served to heighten his desire. You were so soft, so earnest, so undeniably his that having you in that way seemed to make the inevitable easier. As if reinforcing that no matter what the future held, you would indeed remain his without worry. “Fuck…” he muttered, burying his face in your shoulder as he finished deep within you. The frenetic, irregular rhythm of his thrusts slowed until he all but collapsed on the bed behind him, taking your limp body with him as collateral.
He peppered messy kisses all over your face, even kissing you in such a way had become a rare luxury he’d only infrequently been able to indulge in since being under his father’s roof. You only groaned and nestled closer to him, tracing your fingers lazily over the collar of his shirt. “Well, I suppose I like the uniform.”
To his surprise, all he did was laugh, a hearty, good-natured laugh that felt uncannily foreign to him. He always found it remarkably strange how your presence in his life had left him feeling so at ease. Of all the things he’d thought he’d wanted out of his life, a soft, easy normalcy had not been one he’d ever put into words. But since knowing you, the comfort was immeasurable, one he had not been allowed the privilege of knowing in the lives he’d lived before. He understood why so many people could feel content when they were adored so earnestly by someone able to fill in all empty spaces. And you were indeed what he needed, his perfect compliment.
He let his fingers roam across the gentle curves of your waist as you lay beside him. You gave an airy sigh of approval for his tender touches, unashamed to spend the rest of the afternoon cuddled in bed as the rain fell upon the heath.
Afternoon slipped softly into evening, and the commotion of dinner’s familiar bustle returned to the halls with the clinking of china and the utterances of casual instructions and Dio began readying himself for the meal. He collected the scattered garments and separated that morning's clothes that were still wet from the rain. “I will see to it that Father has this cleaned and then it shall be returned to you.”
“Th-thank you…” you stuttered, “do you think anyone heard us?”
“Well, my dear girl, you were not exactly quiet,” he said, flashing you a look of subtle bemusement as he considered further. You flushed a deep shade of crimson and covered your face with the collar of his shirt. “Relax, darling, I’m certain Father will be none the wiser, and the servants know better than to speak out of turn. What they may or may not know shan’t be the subject of discussion. And even so, the walls in this old house are quite thick.”
“I see you have experience.”
“My dear, I do not care for your implications.”
“Perhaps not, but you are forgetting that I know you well.”
“Perhaps you do, but I assure you that you are the only woman I’ve brought to my home.”
“Well, aren’t I special?”
“You most certainly are,” he hummed as he dressed himself in a casual but stately ensemble of a crisp Oxford shirt underneath a burgundy sweater with dark slacks that had been tailored to him a little too perfectly.
“My, don’t you look presentable,” you simpered, smoothing the collar of his shirt. “I see you’ve taken my advice about the sweaters.”
“I do so enjoy indulging my lady’s tastes.” His arms eased around you with the accustomed gentleness he saved only for you.
“In that case, I’m keeping this.” You picked his rugby shirt up off the ground and pulled it over your head. The massive garment hung loosely above your knees, and the sleeves drooped well past your hands.
“And who said that you could?”
“I did!” You squealed and hugged the fabric tight to your skin as though it were your most prized possession.
“Have you not already purloined a different shirt of mine?” He asked, his eyes narrow as his large hands found your hips.
“Perhaps…” you raised a finger to your lips and mustered an innocent, vacuous expression with widened, doll-like eyes that glimmered with an elfin mischief which always left Dio susceptible to spell. “It’s quite different from this one, though, and don’t I wear it well?”
“I suppose you do.” He cocked his head to properly take in your funny appearance and admire your boldness. “Perhaps you may borrow it.”
Satisfied with what you were deeming a success, you twirled around the room, eventually throwing your arms around his waist, “thank you~” you purred and nuzzled against his chest.
“Then, if you are finally happy, I suggest we get you ready, unless you’re intending on wearing my shirt to dinner. I dare say it would cause quite a stir, and you do look positively ravishing in it.”
“Oh, stop it, I know you’re not serious.”
“And why not? Then Father won’t have any doubts about what kinds of activities we’ve been up to,” he said with deep, daring eyes as a sharp smirk spread across his face.
“Oh, why must you get off on trying to embarrass me?”
“Perhaps it’s because you look adorable when you pout.” He squeezed your cheeks together and delivered one tiny kiss. “Now, we ought to make you decent.”
You acquiesced amidst the soft caresses of his hands and scampered down the hall to your room and bade him farewell at the door with a soft kiss and assurance to reconvene for dinner once you had properly been made ready. So you slipped silently into a shift dress less befitting of a more formal dinner, but nonetheless acceptable for the dreary weather. Once finished, you flitted down the stairs just in time to see Dio locked in conversation with his father and, thinking better of intruding on their private affairs, you crept noiselessly out of earshot and treaded carefully into the dining room.
“Father, I am aware of your concerns, but I would not feel right to let her go by herself. I insist that I accompany her,” Dio whispered in a tone that seemed to you, dreadfully serious.
“Now, Dio, I understand your apprehensions well, but as you’ve only just arrived, I think it pertinent that you remain and ready yourself for the week ahead.”
“I cannot do that, Father. After all the goodness she has done to me, I simply cannot. I must go back with her, even if just for one night, to make sure that she’s safe.”
George looked at his son with wariness in his eyes, for as much as he wanted to trust his son, he feared the loss should make another escape. “I promise, Father, that I will return promptly, but I must see to it that she is safely in her home.”
George sighed in reluctant acceptance of his son’s wishes. “Alright, Dio, I will permit it so long as I have your word that you will be home by Tuesday. I want you adequately prepared for the meetings I have arranged for you. But I am not without reason, I recall the longings in the hearts of young lovers well, so you ought to be allowed to say your proper goodbyes.”
“Thank you, Father,” Dio said with a sigh and shook his father’s hand graciously before finally making his exit to join you in the dining room.
Albeit begrudgingly, you abandoned the far-flung hope of Dio returning to stay with you that you’d been desperately clinging to through the week’s events. Amidst the quiet murmurings exchanged between Dio and his father, you were all too aware of the subject of their discussion.
The dinner was comparatively simple, given the extravagance of the previous night and was taken in relative silence as if some kind of unspoken tension lingered in the air between the attendees. You thought that perhaps, had Speedwagon come to join, he might’ve alleviated the strain that appeared in the meager conversation of life’s mundanities, expressed in hackneyed parables that were only glossed over without genuine interest in details
The somber attitude continued into the night. Even as Dio absconded from his father’s attention when he led you to your room, so the final moments of your stay at the mansion could be spent in each other’s company, there remained an unnamed stressor that you could all but guess the root cause of.
You lay on Dio’s bed with your legs tucked beside you as he entangled you in a session of tender kisses. Though undeniably passionate and full of earnest devotion, there was a restraint that damped his actions. Tentative in the way his hands settled themselves on your back, akin to the manner in which one may handle a precious jewel or a set of fine china or any number of somethings that were delicate and beautiful.
“Enough now, I really must pack my things if we intend to leave tomorrow morning.”
“Hmm, perhaps you ought to leave some things here in preparation for the subsequent visit.” He said with a curious droll that flitted between genuine honesty and mischievous insincerity.
“I can’t, that would be rude!” You chided as you padded across the room and began collecting the discarded clothes left from the previous days. Leaving an outfit for the morrow, you quickly packed the rest away, taking special care to assure that the shirts you had taken from Dio came with you.
He gave an acknowledging smirk when he saw you tucking them away into your suitcase. “I assure you, it would not be nearly as rude as the petty thievery you have committed.”
“Me, not at all, my good sir, these are but gifts bestowed upon me with the reminder that you are indeed mine.”
The brazen declaration fell upon him with a comfortable weight no longer strange and foreign in its endowment. He was, so far as he could tell, undeniably yours just as you were his. It was a sense of mutual belonging he had not endeavored to consider until you had entwined yourself with him so irreversibly. The dismal thought at the reality of letting you go, even if it were just for a temporary stay while he made arrangements for a more permanent means of companionship after acquiring stable employment and a steady stream of revenue to support whatever fancies the two of you cared to pursue. He let his hands find purchase on your hips and pulled you flush against his chest. The suddenness left you uneasy on your feet, and you nearly stumbled, but one of his arms had snaked around for leverage. “I indeed have not forgotten, but you would do well to remember that you belong to no one else but me.”
“Like I could ever forget,” you said and flashed him a coquettish smile, not without a notable degree of snark in your tone.
The way you rested so easily in his arms served as the culmination of all the gratification of which he was unduly owed after a week that had been marked with strife. “Darling, I am quite tired, I'm afraid,” he admitted, as if it cost some measure of pride to divulge such a weakness, no matter how matter or commonplace, “but won’t you come stay with me tonight?”
“Of course, I always will.” You pressed a hand against his shoulder and attempted to rid the room of the tension that continued to bloom since dinner.
He patted his hand over yours and moved across the room to seat himself on your bed while you dressed hastily into your bedclothes. The glimmers of amusement danced through his eyes as he watched each layer of clothing fall to the floor. Perhaps it was indeed a mark of immaturity not befitting a gallant gentleman of nearer two and twenty, but he always found great satisfaction in seeing you undressed, even without the necessity of sex.
Once the day's clothes had been packed and you’d been situated in your nightgown, you made the familiar trek to Dio’s room, far more brazenly than he had any night prior, having grown unconcerned at the prospect of an accidental onlooker catching sight of you as his hands glided listlessly along the curves of your body in tandem with each step.
Dio’s room was already dark; only the dull light glimmering on his bedside table illuminated the room in a velvety warmth that was all at once welcoming to the idea of sleep. He lay on his bed and moved for you to take your spot beside him. Heavy arms wrapped around you as you settled beneath the thick comforter. Once he was certain you were comfortable, he moved to extinguish the lamp. All at once the room was cloaked in quiet darkness, only fractured by the filtering of grey moonlight beneath the heavy curtains.
Dio curled up beside you, his body soft as a pale morning sky. The tender expression on his face was nearly timid as he let his arms circle your waist and head fall against your shoulder in a display that was far more vulnerable than he often allowed himself to be, but the gesture was nothing short of magic to you.
“I can’t believe we’re going home tomorrow,” you hummed, lightly tracing your fingers over his back.
“Yes, this has been a rather long week. I am grateful to have had you through all of it.” He sighed, his eyes closed as he ebbed between the veil of sleep.
“Think nothing of it. I am so proud of you, and I love you.” You kissed the top of his head, the soft strands of his hair tickled your nose. He tightened his grip around you, nestling deeper against you in the process. You could feel the pleasant weight of his body on yours drift seamlessly into sleep.
You stared blankly at the ceiling, heavy dark had obscured any finer details you may have noticed in the daylight. Your mind swirled with untamed thoughts of tall he things Dio had left unsaid, all of the realities you knew you were all too soon to face. Though Dio had not said as much, you could guess the truth of the matter in the cautious way he had touched you. You let out a sigh, only barely audible and looked at the man who slept soundly in your arms.
Serenity was awash over him, imbuing him with an almost childlike innocence as he slept with his arms coiled around you and his head rested on your chest, wearing the faintest smile across his face. You felt the desire to brush your fingers through his soft hair, but you resisted, should the disturbance perchance rouse him from slumber as you had become wise to the fickleness in which sleep often befell him.
Instead, you lie awake, though unmoving in bed. Too awake to let sleep find you and beleaguered by the same gnawing insecurities stirring in your brain. You had been alone for so long. If you were to be honest, you had never intended to intertwine yourself with another so long as your life persisted in the nineteenth century. You had been content, yes, certainly content, though perhaps never quite fully happy leading such a solitary life. You were not sure you could face that loneliness again. The thought of your bleak little apartment, vacant when you returned home each day. No soft glow in the windows, no smell of food in the kitchen, and worse yet, no loved one to greet you at the door. It was a harder prospect to bear than you wanted to admit. Your life had changed so quickly. In only the passing of a season, its entire trajectory had been rerouted. You had a renewed sense of purpose that you were not quite sure what to do with now that the brief cohabitation was over.
So you continued to lie there, sleep yet evading you. The deep silence, only punctuated by your lover’s soft breathing, felt almost jarringly palpable. You shut your eyes, your face inadvertently scrunching with it to force sleep to take you. But luck was fleeting as the seconds ticked by and minutes passed into hours.
Sleep never fell upon you that night; all you could do was lie hopelessly awake as a lurid dread pumped through your veins and the strain of exhaustion crept across your face in the promise of a blinding headache once morning swept away the stars. Too tired to sleep. Too unwilling to face the day to come.
Notes:
Like I said, this was so so so self-indulgent and I am NOT sorry about it. God, I hate him and his stupid rugby uniform (I need him in the worst way).
Sorry folks, Dio's not going to be moving back in with Reader. He has to get a job and be an adult now. Sads. Please don't burn me in effigy, I have plansssssss.
Anyway, while I can't promise to get back to posting with regularity, I am happy to be back!! I've missed posting so much, I've just been so busy irl that I have hardly had the metal bandwidth to edit things to the level of quality that I prefer. Along those lines, if you don't already follow my tumblr, I posted a quick update there where I teased a new project coming up at the end of the month. I'm usually not one to shout out my other work since I know people don't necessary follow along with these stories for me but rather for the story itself, but I have been working on a second DioxReader multi chapter fic (completely unrelated to this one) which will debuting at the end of the month, so feel free to check it out when it comes if that's something you'd like to do! I will be posting more details on my tumblr as I get the first chapter ready for posting. Trust me, I plan to continue serving the alliance of my fellow girlies who are in love with this awful blond man. He has infected my brain forever and you all get to enjoy the spoils of my frayed sanity.
That's all for now, love you all byeeeee!!
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