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dollwritesarchive · 1 year

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one of my favorite headcanons for dio is that he doesn't allow his darling to wear panties. maybe even forbids it. he just loves easy access <3

𝗰𝗼𝗻𝘁𝗲𝗻𝘁 𝘄𝗮𝗿𝗻𝗶𝗻𝗴𝘀 ∣ smut ( minors dni ), fem!reader, dubcon, edging, fingering, little bit of degradation/humiliation because dio is and always will be a big meanie, almost blade play ( his sharp ass nails ), suggested past abuse / sexual conditioning ( from dio ), orgasm denial / control, all characters featured are 18+

𝗶𝗺𝗽𝗼𝗿𝘁𝗮𝗻𝘁 ∣ it’s always a good day when i get to write filth for the man, the myth, the legend: dio brando. do not repost or translate. please reblog && leave feedback. thanks for reading < 3

“Do you even have the faintest clue why panties are forbidden, pet?” Dio asks, without looking up from the book resting against his crossed knees. “Page.”

with your fingers trembling, you obediently flip the page he’s done reading, shaking your head with a muffled and shy, “Nn— Nn.” with the hemming of your skirt stuffed into your mouth, you’re forced to bite down on it and keep it in place, high and out of the way of your vampire lord’s malignant digits.

the room was icy cold, but you weren’t trembling because of that. your thighs were shaking and sticky from his constant, torturously slow stroking of your sex. the length of his finger slotting between your weeping folds to probe, and you clench around air with a timid whimper. then, his thick knuckle grazed in circles, until your back arched and you tried to ride it. he would, then satisfied with your desperation to be stretched open, drag the sharpest point of his dagger-like, abysmal nail to tease your tender clit, threaten to cut into you.

your body wants to jerk back, escape his cruel taunting, but you were trained much better than that. you stood as still as you could, with your knees bent inwards against each other so that they don’t buckle, and watch his hand disappear between your legs as he tenderizes your sex, and then reappear a few moments later, sticky with your essence.

“No?” he teases, quirking a brow, but his crimson eyes stay locked on the page he’s currently reading, “Of course not. Why should you? After all, does a lapdog understand why it is that her master smacks her muzzle for yapping too loudly? Or does she simply accept that to yowl incessantly will get her popped in her pretty, little face?” there were memories behind his metaphor— the scariest moments of your time with Dio, when you disobeyed or annoyed him. you, too, had found your cheek stinging from his massive palm making contact, and had been banished from his lap to sleep on the cold, hard stone floor for your insolence.

“Page.”

you turn to the next. and you nod to show that you understand: it didn’t matter if you knew why Dio put the rules in place that he did for you, all that mattered was that you obeyed them.

“But, I will tell you.” two fingers worm their way to spread your netherlips apart, and you mewl and grip bundles of chiffon with your teeth, saliva soaking through the fabric. “I will never allow you to wear panties because of this right here. How easy it is to edge your soft, warm cunt when she’s completely exposed. Vulnerable.” when you shudder at the sordid way each syllable rolls off his sinful tongue, you catch a peek at his impish grin, before he jabs his middle finger against your entrance, with just enough force to feel your canal try to welcome the digit in, but he doesn’t slip it inside.

“L—Lord D—Dio!” you cry, the need to feel him take you all but overwhelming and you careen against his hand, hoping to coerce his fingers inside, “P—pleeeethhh…” you mumble, slurred, through your makeshift gag.

“I will have your little cunt drooling and tender for me whenever I please. Like she is right now, so hungry for cock that you can hardly stay upright. Milking air, wishing, begging for me to fuck it. You want me right now, don’t you? You want nothing more than for me to hollow you out? Break your body and your mind with my cock?”

you nod fervently, eyelids heavy with lust from his words alone, and your hips twitch and wriggle, whining for him to do whatever he wanted to you.

his eyes turn up from the page, and stare at your visage, nearly convulsing on his palm, before his tongue scrapes over a pearly fang, one signature dimple visible in the candlelight as he croons. “How much longer can you take this teasing, I wonder? Minutes? Hours?” you were shaking your head, hot tears in the corners of your eyes, but he kept going, as if he enjoyed how nervous the idea of being edged for hours made you. how frightened it made you. “Or perhaps, I leave you soiled and needy now, and play with you every day following, you’ll wake up, tied to my bed, with me between your legs, sucking on your sugary cunt— bringing you right to the very cusp of orgasm and then snatching it away from you no matter how you beg and cry for a release, until you’re so sensitive that the very sound of my voice in the dark alone forces you to cum.” your eyes roll back, defeated and moaning pathetically as he pulls his hand back from between your hips. your jaw hangs slack; the skirt of your dress sagging back into a skewed version of its place, and Dio shoves his dripping fingers into your mouth instead, forcing you to taste just how badly you want him, pushing them deep until you gurgle and choke on them. “The possibilities to torment you are endless and exciting, my love, and that’s why you will never wear panties again. Turn the Page.”

#dio brando x you #dio brando #dio brando x reader #dio brando imagine #dio brando smut #dio #dio x reader #dio x you #dio smut #dio imagine #jjba #jjba imagine #jjba imagines #jjba x reader #jjba x you #jjba smut #jojo’s bizzare adventure x reader #jojo’s bizarre adventure smut #jojo’s bizarre adventure

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married-to-google-translater · 1 year

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Dio Brando ( Part 1 ) Relationship headcanon

Relationship with Dio?

Oh boys.

Dio would be a really demanding and possessive boyfriend.

He really needs normal love and attention.

But he is not really aware of it himself.

Or really know how to say their needs out loud.

You probably met each other as children.

Because of this, Dio has some kind of trust in you.

He doesn't trust many people.

In short, Dio's world of thought goes like this: First come his needs, then come your needs, and he really doesn't give a fuck about other people's needs.

Dio likes it when you listen to him talk.

He would talk to you a lot.

Dio thinks it's because you admire him.

You really don't want to interrupt him because you know Dio would be angry.

An angry Dio is not a good thing.

Lots of talk about how strong he has become and how much better he is than Jonathan.

Don't worry you have it easy. Part 3 Dio is an even worse narcissist.

Dio would be the jealous type really easily.

Do not show empathy or interest in others.

Especially not Jonathan.

Yes, Dio is genuinely angry that you tried to help Jonathan who fell down the stairs because of Dio.

Dio thinks you should have complimented him on how he "accidentally" pushed Jonathan.

This man lacks almost all empathy.

You are also always the one who apologizes.

Dio doesn't really know how to do it and has no interest in learning it.

In general, Dio is a fan of public PDA.

Privately, however, he finds it difficult to show affection.

Unless it's somehow sexual.

Chances are Dio wouldn't turn you into a vampire right away.

He wants to enjoy the new power dynamic.

However, this waiting is his fate.

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2-dsimp · 1 month

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/—-//——/————\——\—

Praise

/—-//——/————————

(Fem reader)

🔞MDNI🔞

—-/—-//——/——————

Cw: deepthroating, creampie, praise kink, slight humiliation, oral m! Receiving, mention of overstimulation.

/—-//——/————\——\—

The Givers

“Fuck…Fuck me, Princess you’re blowing my brains out with how your soft lips keep sucking the ever living fuck outta my cock. Yeah, just like that keep going, you’re doing such a fantastic job fer me. Awe are you thirsty? Don’t worry doll I’m about to give you some jizz milk in just a second”

He groaned.

Feeling the heat of your slick saliva encompassing his foreskin while your tongue mapped out his shaft. Trailing your tongue flat alongside the prominent veins that pulsated underneath your attention. Which caused his heavy balls that were noisily slapping the base of your chin to tighten up ready to burst at any moment. A feral lopsided grin was present on his lips as he tugged on your hair, stuffing his fat dick meanly down your throat before letting out a loud audible growl. His shaft throbbing meanwhile he deposited his salty man milk, coating your esophagus in a creamy white hue.

/—-//——/————\——\—

The Overindulgent

“Please keep squeezing my cock with your sweet pussy baby! Uhn so delicious, feels sho wonderful I can’t stop… I can’t stop my hips. Don’t look at me like that, you know I can’t help it. It’s all your fault for being so tempting sweetheart! Haa the way your slick heat keeps suckling at my tip is driving me insane~”

He slurred.

Tears pricked his glistened eyes as he outwardly blamed you for how pent up he was. Sawing his long slender shaft in between your puffy pussy lips marinating it with your juices and left over cum he had spurted prematurely. Watching the way your gushy cunt suckled at his leaking blunted tip whenever he’d “accidentally” slip his cockhead inside. In a matter of seconds he became boneless at the sensitivity. And he whimpered bucking his hips while spraying bucket loads of his baby batter all over your simpering walls.

/—-//——/————\——\—

The Teasers

“Mhm you look so beautiful covered in my seed darling~ Hmm? What was that? You said you want to be full of my dick? Well don’t worry sweetness, keep being a good girl for me and I’ll fuck into your precious twat until all you can feel the phantom shape of my cock inside your tight walls. My pretty girl would love that wouldn’t she?”

He hummed.

Methodically torturing you, his eyes filled with sadistic mirth as he pinched and toyed with your nipples forcing you to arch your back. While he began rubbing against his half massed dick between the crease of your asscheeks smearing his precum against your puckered anus and your dripping pussy. He relished in having you under his control, at you begging for him to give you exactly what you needed while he humped your sweet ass. He momentarily adjusted his hips so that his thick shaft could slide in nicely between your moist quivering thighs. Aiding him in taunting you with the idea of him plunging his cock inside your spasming cunt. While he snickered cruelly into your ear as he kept purposefully knocking his fat tip against your pearl with each controlled thrust.

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nyoomzz · 28 days

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whenever i had to get into that stupid elevator and just awkwardly stare at the screen i remind myself that they probably had it worse

#imagine having to share an elevator with dio after he tried to fucking kill you #anyway. the cast ever #zero escape #virtue's last reward

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dollwrites · 6 months

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𝗰𝗼𝗻𝘁𝗲𝗻𝘁 𝘄𝗮𝗿𝗻𝗶𝗻𝗴𝘀 ∣ smut ( minors dni ), fem!reader ( service top ), power bottom!dio, pegging, restraints, degradation, masturbation ( him ), all characters featured are aged 18+

𝗶𝗺𝗽𝗼𝗿𝘁𝗮𝗻𝘁 ∣ please reblog && leave feedback. not proofread so there’s probably mistakes. thanks for reading < 3

𝗸𝗶𝗻𝗸𝘁𝗼𝗯𝗲𝗿 𝟮𝟬𝟮𝟯 ∣ day eighteen [ dio brando + pegging ]

you could beg him all you wished.

you could scream and cry your please, masters until your throat was raw, and you choked on the dryness of your own mouth, but he still wouldn’t give you any pleasure. he was determined to make you suffer, and suffer you were doing, exactly.

Dio elicits a soft, throaty chuckle at your pitiful whimper, and he tilts his head to one side, peering down at you. “My, my, is my little possession feeling entitled, today?”

the visage of him hunkered down over you, knees spread wide and balancing on the balls of his feet, was driving you insane. your blurry eyeline trails along the slick, rubber cock that disappears as he descends upon it with a symphony of breathy grunting accompanying the action, and you’re so envious. he takes the fake phallus akin to the way that you usually take his cock, and even from your position, flat on the bed with your arms bound to together at the wrists above your head, you could see the way the pinkish ring clenched around the toy as he fucked it.

“I love that look on your face.” Dio swoons, wrapping one mighty fist around his cock and pumping in merciless, rapid-fire strokes, while his other palm rests on one knee, and he bounces up and down on the toy strapped to your groin. “That envious look. You hate to watch me have all the fun, don’t you?” your master muses, a devious grin etching his lips over sharp, pearly fangs. “What’s the matter? Do you hate me for not letting you feel good, too? Do you want to curse your master for it?”

“N-no, master…” you whine, laying your head to the side, watching him use you, before you added in a soft, pathetic tone, “I just… am begging for you to touch me, too. Or, a-at the very least, let me touch y-you—“ your eyes glue themselves to the way he jerked himself off; you could offer a much softer, warmer grasp. hell, you would even let him spit on your hands until they were dripping, that way your grasp felt more like your drooling cunt.

Dio’s brows screwed into a distasteful scowl as he huffs, and reaches out to plant his free hand on your chest, instead. the power and weight behind the movement is enough to knock the breath from your lungs, and you croak in response, eyelids fluttering. “Do you think me so weak, little fuck slave, that you could bat your eyelashes and pout, and I would give you exactly what you wanted?” he didn’t wait for an answer, sneering, he leans closer, his hips rocking back and forth as he takes to toy to its hilt, and moans in satisfaction. “You want so badly to feel pleasure, too, but your master has no use for your sloppy hole today. I want to get fucked,” his harsh words and the disregard he holds for your own ecstasy adds fuel to the wicked eroticism of this moment— of your master using you for his own gratification. “And, if I have to tie you to the bed and strap a fake cock on you in order to get what I want, I will do so. And you will thank me, once again, for the opportunity to please me; it is a privilege not many are gifted.” his abysmal, razor like fingernails scrape at your chest, dragging along one, hardened nipple, threatening to break your skin, and you shudder. “Because you, my little piece of meat, are little more than furniture to me.”

your eyes roll back at that.

why did your pussy clench when he compared you to furniture?

had Dio Brando truly broken you to the point of getting off for him, even as he demeaned you, and reduced you to nothing of worth?

you gargle a moan, your back arching as if in hopes to drive the dildo deeper into him, but his weight crashes down on you, pinning you in place. “Master!” you cry out, tears in your eyes, as your core weeps for his attention. a flick of his finger, at the very least, underneath the leather harness. “Please! I am going mad!”

“Fuckable furniture.” the rough pad of his thumb scrapes against the slit on his broad, pink tip, before he thrusts himself into his hand, gripping and moaning, swirling his hips to feel every inch of the cock jammed inside of him. Dio throws his head back with a happy grunt. “And furniture doesn’t fucking move. Furniture doesn’t beg for attention when it is owed none. Furniture is silent and subservient, dearest fucktoy.”

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daniswoso · 3 months

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“¿Qué coño?”

Alexia Putellas x Reader

Summary: Part 2 of “Ay dios mio.”

Warnings: Swearing in both Spanish and English, VERY Suggestive, there will be more parts!, Asshole Alexia, cocky reader, both r and AP are assholes tbh, but more Alexia. Let me know if I’ve missed anything! 3rd part will be smut!

**********

Since the ‘incident’ in your’s and Alexia’s hotel room, you hadn’t been able to keep your hands off each other. The teasing had been constant, and you’re fairly sure Mapi and Ona, who usually is the most oblivious human to ever exist, had caught on.

But that certainly did not stop Alexia from continuing to tease you, and vice versa.

Briefly, while you’re asleep in Alexia’s strong arms at night, you find yourself wondering why you can’t just say you liked each other rather than hated each other. You had… little to no issue about coming forward to friends and family about the relationship, knowing both parties would be supportive as fuck, so you guessed it was Alexia who had an issue.

And she did. She had built up a reputation over the years of playing football, on the pitch she was a no nonsense, calculated player. Calm. Rational. Understanding. Everything you weren’t.

You weren’t rational, you weren’t calm. You’d snap at players and the ref whenever there’s a chance and Alexia was beginning to think you’d racked up more cards than Katie ‘McCard’ herself.

That’s why Alexia wasn’t comfortable coming forward, you went against everything she believed a player should be on the pitch.

Maybe it was petty, maybe it was really because she was scared, maybe it was (just a little bit) because she was scared of the ribbings she’d receive from Mapi and Lucy when she got back to Barcelona from international duty.

Yeah, it was definitely petty.

But she was finding it hard to think about that while your hand had found her muscled thigh under the table, your thumb stroking dangerously close to the place she wanted - needed - you.

She looked over to your face, the smug smirk you wore was enough to make her want to bend you over the table right here right now.

While no one else at the restaurant knew what was going on, due to the booth you were all sat having a weirdly long table cloth, which covered the ministrations your hand was making; Alexia definitely knew.

When you ghosted two fingers over her clit through her underwear under her dress, she had to fight to bite back a gasp, her hips very nearly bucking up.

You smile at the wetness you find, even through her underwear, leaning over to whisper in her ear while everyone else ordered, “¿Todo para mí, reina?” (All for me, queen?)

“Callaté.” (Shut up.) She hisses, shoving your hand away before ordering, her voice slightly shaky.

You ignore the looks from Mapi and Ona, who look from you to Alexia to Alexia’s flushed cheeks with disgusted faces, and order your food.

“Y/n, can I talk to you… after dinner? Please?” Alexia breathes through gritted teeth.

“Sure, Capitana.” you smirk, and you can practically feel her shaking with rage.

*********

A/N: this is more of a filler for the smut chapter, yes Alexia will be bottom as anon requested, sorry for it being so short even if it was just a filler, as mentioned in my katie fic i’ve been in and out of the ER so fic production will be slower. Lo siento in advance.

#woso #football #futbol #footy #woso fanfics #woso imagine #writer is not english #woso x reader #futból #suggestive #part 2 #part 2 of ay dios mio #alexia putellas x y/n #alexia putellas x reader #alexia putellas #espwnt #barca femeni

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milf-harrington · 1 year

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i wrote this in like an hour so please forgive the quality but here's some gentle steddie set somewhere in the early 90's mentions of canonical violence and trauma, but otherwise just a gentle morning scene

5:30 am found Eddie Munson on the back porch steps, watching their liver spotted dalmatian patrol the fence-line with her usual level of seriousness. Ronnie moved like a spectre in the half-light, her edges all blurred and smudged until she stopped to sniff at a weed and became solid again.

The cherry of his cigarette flared bright on his inhale as he brought his knees further into his chest, feet crossed over one another like he could trap the warmth in if he just curled up tight enough. With autumn creeping closer, the mornings were getting crisp.

Luckily, his ears were warm under both his hair and the hood of his jumper,but his legs were prickly with goosebumps thanks to his habit of grabbing whatever was on the floor. This time it was Steve's basketball shorts, the one's that used to be trackpants until he'd taken scissors to them in the summer of '88.

They definitely weren't suited for cooler weather, but they were comfortable and Eddie kind of liked the distraction the chill brought. It was harder to get stuck in memories of snapping bones and dead motors and being eaten by bats when your toes were trying not to freeze off.

Eddie sniffled without tears and wiped his nose with the back of his hand, bringing his smoke back to his lips for another drag. His hands were shaking, but it had nothing to do with the weather.

He'd dreamed of Chrissy again.

The problem with an overactive imagination, is that it could always make your nightmares worse.

After weeks of stress free dreaming, he'd wound up back in his trailer last night, but this time he'd known Chrissy's favourite song. Playing it hadn't worked, and instead the bats had come pouring from her mouth like it was it's own gate. They'd swarmed him before he even had a chance to run, breaking free through the windows and those damn vents before tearing him and Hawkins apart.

He'd woken in his and Steve's bed, in the house they bought with their shady government money, sweat slicked and on fire. His skin was tight and itchy as he'd crept out of bed, tapping the dog awake to take her outside and grabbing his smokes from the dresser.

Ronnie chose then to drop her favoured rope at his feet, head ducked and eyes flitting from between him and the toy hopefully, tail wagging. Eddie secured his cigarette between his lips so he could distract her with a scratch behind her ears, and grabbed the toy with his free hand before she could react. She'd turn it into a game of tug-o-war if he wasn't careful, and it was impossible to ask her to drop it when it took both hands just to keep hold of the thing.

The rope sailed across the backyard in a high arc, and Ronnie almost tripped over her own paws in her haste to get to it.

A few more throws later, the sky was brighter and the back door opened with a familiar wheeze behind him.

Eddie didn't turn as he threw Ronnie's toy again, but listened to Steve quietly walk closer and settle down beside him with a soft grunt.

A moment later, his cigarette was stolen from right between his fingers, but when he turned to complain, Eddie was met with a steaming mug shaped like a bear. He took it with hands that were steadier than they'd been 10 minutes ago.

Steve, meanwhile, had tucked the cigarette between his own lips like he used too when he was trying to seem cool and impressive (before they got their shit together), and unfolded the blanket he'd brought out with him.

It settled over both of their shoulders while Eddie sipped his coffee, feeling it's journey all the way down to his stomach. He watched Ronnie register Steve's presence and come bounding over.

She stopped in front of them with the rope toy swinging from her mouth, tail picking up enough speed to move her hips with it when Steve signaled for her to drop it.

Steve generally wasn't verbal this early in the morning, preferring to sign until the world felt awake enough for voices. Luckily their dog was deaf too, even if she was cheeky about ignoring signals by pretending not to see them.

Finally, Ronnie relented, dropping the rope between Steve's ridiculous old-man slippers as he passed the cigarette back to Eddie. She graciously accepted her vigorous head scratches as reward.

Eddie huffed a laugh and tapped off the excess ash, taking another drag and waiting until the dog was tearing off after her toy to pass it back to Steve.

He accepted the smoke with a smile and didn't ask why Eddie was awake so early, or why he hadn't bothered to dress warmer. Just made sure the blanket was wrapped around him properly, and pressed a kiss to his temple over the top of his hood.

Eddie sighed from somewhere deep and tired inside him and let his head drop onto Steve's shoulder, feeling it drop as he exhaled smoke towards the rising sun.

#hoh steve harrington #steddie #steve harrington #eddie munson #i really want a dalmatian but i'm currently in no position to get one so i gave steddie one instead #im imagining that they adopted her from shelter sometime after vecna is defeated #eddie wanted to name her something metal but steve didn't want her to have a weird name so they compromised on 'ronnie'#which is cute and also the name of dio's lead singer #steddie fluff #sort of #domestic steddie #my writing

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chloesimaginationthings · 1 year

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What if Pucci met Makima and Denji met Dio…

#myart #chloesimagination #jojo bizarre adventure #jjba fanart #jjba #stone ocean #jojo part 6 #enrico pucci #dio brando #csm #chainsaw man #csm fanart #csm denji #makima csm #comic #Could you imagine the chaos #This concept is fun I might do more in the future

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byakuyacoochie · 10 months

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My what big boobies you have - Various x Reader

Characters: Jonathan Joestar, Dio / Uvogin, Knuckle, Morel

A/N: Inspired by this video, I tried to write for some characters I had never written before...so I think they might all be a little ooc..I also may have forgotten to finish this one so it's a little rushed!

#1000 follower event #jojo smau #jjba smau #jjba fake texts #jjba imagines #jjba x reader #jojo imagines #jojo fake texts #jjba x y/n #jojo x reader #jonathan joestar x reader #dio brando x reader #hxh smau #hxh fake texts #hxh social media au #hunter x hunter fake texts #hunter x hunter smau #hunter x hunter x reader

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cinnbar-bun · 2 months

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Good Fortune

Pairing: Dio Brando x GN!Reader

Summary: Dio is told he is lucky, often. He can't see how, considering how awful his life has been. But after meeting you, the child of George Joestar's old business partner and Jonathan's friend, perhaps his luck has turned for the better.

Even if he refuses to engage with such notions.

Rating: SFW but it's painful

Word Count: ~4.5k

AO3 Link: Here

Notes: Childhood-friends-to-lovers, Phantom Blood!Dio, babes this just angst, talks of death and dying, death, religious discussion, religious imagery, Dio unfortunately falling in love, Reader is MENA! but it's easy to ignore, foreshadowing for parts 3 and 6 (no spoilers though), yes I made this to be self indulgent because I wanted to torture Dio because omg what if he went to Cairo specifically because his partner mentioned it?

Dio stares in front of the full-length mirror in his room, adjusting his suit and tie. George explained he was having an old friend over tonight for supper, making a brief comment about how said friend was also bringing his child over. Dio noticed Jonathan’s eyes widen and the smile adorning his face- obviously, they were acquainted from before he ever arrived to the mansion.

He could only sneer as he thought of how obnoxious this ‘friend’ could possibly be. He couldn’t just antagonize them or Jonathan like he normally did, not when George would be around and watching. The thought of having to sit all night with that buffoon and a friend of his made him want to gag.

Alas, one must do what they have to do to obtain wealth and power. If he wanted the Joestar fortune, he had to play the game correctly. Assuring he was in good standing with George and this guest would only serve him well in the future.

And who knows, Dio chuckles to himself, maybe this ‘friend’ of Jonathan’s would slowly grow to hate the boy as well. He brushes his blond hair back, fixing it up properly. A loose strand makes him use his hand to push it back, and he smirks as he sees the three little birthmarks on his ear. He fixes his cufflinks and proceeds to walk out of the room, annoyed at having to put on airs, yet interested to see what will become of this dinner.

The minute he steps down the stairs, there is a knock at the door. Dio curiously looks from the staircase at the large front doors that George himself approaches. The first thing Dio can make out is a large man, around the same age as George- perhaps a few years older if the few strands of gray hair are anything to go off of. Before he can take a closer look, Jonathan races down the stairs, accidentally brushing shoulders with Dio.

“You damn-,” Dio snarls, but quickly shuts his mouth in case of anyone nearby. Jonathan didn’t seem to notice, instead jumping off the last few steps and running towards the guests. Jonathan yells out a name Dio doesn’t recognize, but the energetic boy is quickly put in his place with George’s hand on his shoulder.

“Jonathan! That is not how we greet our guests!” George scolds his son. Jonathan’s shoulder slink apologetically, like a beaten down puppy.

Dio despises that look more than anything. He makes an expression of disgust before he hears some chuckling.

“Oh, it’s alright, George, let the boy be! He’s young!” A jovial voice exclaims, and George sighs.

“I’m aware, my friend. I just can’t help but worry about what kind of man he will grow up to be,” George muses, tugging on Jonathan’s ears. Dio’s ears pick up that despite the negative words, George isn’t angry at Jonathan. Jonathan himself isn’t too offended either.

Hmph. Disgusting.

Dio figures that he’s seen enough and makes his appearance in front of the guests. The man is clearly foreign and has some semitic features that Dio hardly has ever seen in Britain. He’s finely dressed, wearing a fancy English suit and plenty of gold accessories. Dio finds himself fascinated by the many rings on the man’s fingers.

“My, my, and who could this be?” The man questions, a friendly smile on his face. Dio is frankly grossed out by the overly familiar tone the man takes, but bites his tongue back.

“This is my adopted son, Dio Brando,” George proudly states. The man extends his hand to Dio and shakes it with a firm grip.

“Pleasure to meet you, Mr. Brando,” he introduces himself then pats his child on their shoulder. “This is (Y/n), my only child. I assume you’re all the same age, so I think you’ll get along splendidly.”

Dio glances at you briefly as you bow your head politely to him. “It’s very nice to meet you, Dio.”

You look quite similar to your father, albeit, younger and more rounded, with the same features Dio finds rare on you. Your clothes are just as intricate as your father’s, clearly very expensive, making Dio curious about just how rich you and your father are.

Dio bows his head back to you. “It’s nice to meet you as well, (Y/n).”

Once the greetings are done, Jonathan goes up to you and excitedly beams at you. “(Y/n), did you bring anything for me this time?”

Dio is almost tempted to smack Jonathan on behalf of George, but you chuckle and nod, seemingly not minding. You glance over to make sure the older men are not looking and open your satchel, taking out a red box. Dio and Jonathan peek at it while you remove the cover. Inside the box are small, pink cubes covered in white sugar.

“Woah… what are these?” Jonathan asks.

“Lokum, oh, ah, ‘Turkish delights’,” you say in English. Jonathan is about to take one when you close the box and shake your head. Jonathan pouts after being denied, probably due to his love of sweets. “After dinner. Otherwise my father might lecture me.”

“Turkish delight, you say?” Dio repeats. “So, I assume you and your father must deal within the Middle East, correct?”

“Yes. He was born there, then moved here to start his business,” you pridefully comment, always happy to share how proud you are of your father’s hard work.

“Interesting…” Dio thinks. He frowns when he thinks of his own drunkard of a father, and the gross feeling that dwells within him bubbles upfront. How nice it must be to be happy for your father. How wonderful it must feel to be proud to share the same DNA as the man who had created you. He can’t point to a single thing he enjoyed about Dario, can’t even count anything nice the man has done on one hand except die.

Yet you look to hold your father in such high regard, perhaps even moreso than Jonathan does to George. Likewise, your father keeps smiling at you and flaunting your accomplishments to George, as if you were the best of the best. As if you were the most wonderful thing to have ever graced this earth.

Dio can’t help but feel disgusted and so, so jealous that you get a father who adores and spoils you like nothing else. You don’t even have a mother, but that doesn’t seem to damper you. Any hope he had of wanting to meet you is squashed by the hatred and rage he feels for your relationship.

----

You write letters often, Dio finds out. Now Dio knows why Jonathan is always so excited to check the mail. Soon after leaving the dinner party George held, Dio started getting letters addressed just to him from you.

Apparently, you were too stupid to understand that Dio wanted nothing to do with you and actively despised you like he did Jonathan. Or maybe you just didn’t care, since you began writing about anything and everything you were thinking of as if you were old acquaintances. Dio once snagged Jonathan’s letter from you to see if the tone was any different, but almost nothing was, except for mentions of a historical places Jonathan would like to possibly visit.

At first, he burned them away, not interested in whatever mindless rabble you had to discuss. He had no interest in history, none in studying, and absolutely none for whatever rich person you had just met on the road. Jonathan writes back plenty, but in order to save face, Dio writes back, only very rarely, pretending as if he actually cared.

It isn’t until his birthday that he sighs and relents, opening up the package you had sent. He rolls his eyes at the well wishes you give him (although he does wonder briefly how you knew his birthday) but finds two wrapped gifts in the box.

In the first one, thinner and longer, is a selection of the Turkish delights you had brought over the first time you met. He actually hadn’t bothered trying it then, mostly due to his disgust with you and the fact Jonathan looked like he was enjoying himself when he took a bite.

He snorts and rolls his eyes, about ready to throw away the sweets when the smell of the powdered sugar and rosewater drifts into his nose. It is… certainly unique, he thinks. Nothing like what he’s ever smelled before. He places the box on his desk again and glares at it, as if the treats were personally ruining his day. He folds his arms and stares at it some more.

He should throw this out. Never look at this and just write a quick ‘thank you’ so you felt appreciated or something. But still… the powdered sugar dusting the outside, the sweet, sweet smell of it- it was far too tempting. He clicked his tongue and picked one up, groaning at the way the sugar dusted his fingers and part of his suit.

“Disgusting,” he mumbles before he takes a large bite of it. The taste is nothing like what he’s ever had before, and he nearly chokes at it. He coughs then swallows, taken aback by the taste. It’s… it’s quite delicious. He’s never tried something so wonderfully sweet, something that overtakes the senses quite like this. Roses make an interesting flavor profile, he muses.

Wait, no, what is he thinking, getting excited over this stupid gift from an annoyance like you? He closes the box of sweets then opens the last box. Inside is a ring, similar to the one your father wore at the dinner party. The ring had a large amber stone, and Dio twirls it in his hands, fascinated with how the light catches the stone.

This must have cost a fortune. He chuckles as he picks up the note to go alongside the ring.

My father and I thought a ring would be a good gift for you. He says that it’s always wise to have something nice on your hand. It can bring you good luck and make you stand out. I hope you like the color- he was going to get you the blue one, but this one reminded me of your eyes. I thought you might appreciate it more.

Happy birthday, Dio.

You sign your name at the bottom and Dio finds himself biting his lip harshly. It’s really frustrating how you always naively try to think of him like this. Who said he wanted your damn sweets? Who said he wanted your rings? Or your good luck? Who said he wanted anything you had?

He shakes his head and gazes at the ring again. He hates himself, so why would you dare get something that is meant to be of him? This body that he despises, how could you covet it in a god damn ring meant for him?

You bother and enrage him like nothing else. He always thought this was because of your friendship with Jonathan, but this just cemented that the hate he felt for you was entirely just because of who you were. Whereas Jonathan was an obstacle he needed to rid of for the Joestar inheritance, you were someone who actively treated him like a damn charity case.

You must have thought you were so clever and kind gifting these things to him, weren’t you?

Fine. If you wanted to be a useful idiot for him, then he would make sure to get the most use out of you. The violent rage he had boiled over into interest and excitement. He grabbed his paper and pen, quickly writing a letter back to you.

This time, however, he made sure to be more expressive than he normally would have. He laughed loudly as he signed the paper in a hurry and sealed it within an envelope. This could be quite enjoyable.

Imagine him- getting rid of Jonathan and using you for his own gain! Not just one- but two means of success and fortune! Oh, you were a delightful idiot through and through, he thought as he threw aside the lid to the dessert and popped in another cube.

----

The years were kind to Dio. Ever since his plan to use you came to fruition, he slowly refined it to working his way up to being able to ask for your hand in marriage. He spent years cleaning up his act, faking his way to the top, even joining the rugby team and a university to study law. He was practically the perfect man- attractive, intelligent, resourceful, strong- why, anyone would be lucky to have him as a son-in-law and husband.

The interest he deemed to show you in his teens made you reciprocate his affections. You began writing longer letters for him than you did to Jonathan. You would stop by and visit, not even for Jonathan, but just for Dio now. You two would have long discussions in the gardens, on the road, and in the library of the Joestar mansion. Your father practically adored Dio as a son, always patting his shoulder and joking with him more casually. He was an admirable prize, one that was practically handing himself on a silver platter for you.

Except, somewhere along the line, like a damn fool, Dio made a mistake in his normally thorough plans. Somewhere, somehow- you managed to make Dio enjoy your presence. This wasn’t supposed to happen.

When he first started trying to get your attention, he often would do so at the expense of Jonathan. He just liked pissing his brother off while he would drag you away as if he had something urgent to say to you privately. He would aggrandize and embellish his stories, making himself seem far more noble and special than Jonathan was. Of course, Jonathan, ignorant as may be at times, wasn’t stupid. He knew right away Dio was up to no good and tried to warn you, subtly take you away, or even insert himself into the times when Dio pulled you aside.

Nothing worked, however. You either didn’t notice or didn’t care, always brushing aside the warnings and believing in Dio wholeheartedly. It was cute- misguided, frankly- but cute, nonetheless. Especially after Dio did his best to mend his relationship with Jonathan, Jonathan found he had no leg to stand on and tried to leave the past behind him, wishing you two only the best.

Good, thought Dio. He was tired of having to play nice with his Jonathan, and now that Jonathan had no chance of stealing you away from him, Dio could enact his plan still. And that’s what it should have stayed.

But fate was far more strange than Dio realized. One day, he would find himself listening to you more. While before, it was just to keep track of your stories to use later, it now became an interesting part of his day. Another day, he would naturally seek out your hand to hold- not as a means to make you swoon and desire him, but just for his own comfort. And on another, god, he couldn’t believe this- he found himself imagining what a ‘home’ could be like for you and him.

You somehow managed to imprint yourself in his brain, filling his head with stupid, ridiculous, and childish thoughts. He found the hushed whispers he spoke in your ear to become less and less false as time went on. He found the way your cheeks would warm up made him grin and not smirk. He found your voice pleasant and the words you’d say become clearer. He found his body recoiling when any other man, especially Jonathan, tried to talk to you.

You ruined him. You ruined everything. How dare you? He could afford plenty of things now, yet he continued to wear that damn amber ring on his finger. You adored his eyes, and for once, he found himself almost agreeing whenever he looked in the mirror before he would take you on a date.

You. Damn. Worm.

You must be the devil. You must be some evil snake charming him and destroying him inside and out. He couldn’t accept the fact that he, Dio Brando, was actually enjoying your presence in his life.

You spoke of the trips you took with your father for business. You loved almost all your destinations, bringing back souvenirs and charming photos for him. But one city always stood out to him.

Cairo.

“Oh, yes, the city is wonderful there,” you mused dreamily. “There are these beautiful pyramids-”

You point at the photos of these pyramids and he’s become interested in these monumental landmarks. Jonathan made a mention of them once, he thinks.

“And what are these pyramids for, exactly? Why would someone just build these with stone in the middle of a desert of all places?” Dio raises a brow. Although he’s impressed, he finds himself questioning the worth of these structures. You chuckle, a sound he’s grown to enjoy.

“The ancient Egyptians lived here, Dio. They built these pyramids and all sorts of buildings for their final resting place,” you smile.

“Tch, how pretentious,” he teases. “You sound far too happy talking about a place of death.”

“Perhaps, but you know, death isn’t so bad.” Now this makes him pause.

“And what do you mean by that?” Dio questions. You shrug.

“Well, for them, they believed that when you died, your heart would be judged and you could go to the Field of Reeds, Aaru.”

“Similar to western dogma,” Dio mumbles. He never had such faith in things like ‘God’ or a ‘heaven’.

If God really existed, he would have helped Dio’s mother. He would’ve made Dario a better father. Would have made Dio feel safe.

But there is no such thing, no such tangible way to prove that God did exist. And it seems these ancient humans were just as foolish as the people of today. They would continue to believe in something that did not exist and did not love them.

“Yes, you could say that,” you nod. “But I think the idea is nice overall. Don’t you think?” “I don’t understand what could be considered ‘nice’ about it,” he frowns.

“I like to think of it as a second chance. Another way to live, having gone through the struggles of your first life. You’d know more and appreciate more.”

You don’t notice the way his face tenses as he grits his teeth. Even if there was a god, in no way shape or form was Dio ever going to be in ‘heaven’. He could push that aside right away. He was the son of Dario, and that certainly already meant he was sentenced to eternal damnation.

“I see,” is all he says. You snap your fingers as you then show a picture of a gorgeous terracotta mansion.

“I almost forgot to show you! We got to stay in this beautiful place. Oh, it was just wonderful inside. I think you’d love it. There was a lovely garden there, too. I wish I could take you there, I’d show you everything Cairo has to offer! And you could finally taste the dates when they’re ripe and the festivals that go on there!”

“I would love nothing more,” he replies, suddenly thinking of how hot Cairo must feel. He wondered how you would smile if the festivals were going on. How lovely the night must be with you in it under the lamps and palm trees of Egypt. “Maybe we can go for our honeymoon?” You lightly smack his shoulders and laugh. “Don’t tease me like that! Otherwise I might make you propose tomorrow!”

“I could have that arranged,” Dio leans forward, resting his chin on his hand.

“Let’s focus on our studies first,” you chuckle. “I really would love to marry, but alas, our fathers have decided to make us wait longer.”

“Alas,” he joins in, the thought of finally being yours and you being his making his heart swell.

Only you could offer Dio this momentary salvation. This brief respite of peace despite the anger and hatred he held in his heart. This was a feeling only reserved for you, the you who practically forced your presence and love onto him.

It almost didn’t even feel like a part of his plan to gain the two fortunes, even though he would force himself to remember this was just business. Ah, but you made it so easy to enjoy life. You made him forget for a moment he was not the son of Dario Brando. You could made him forget he was a maniacal bastard orphan, instead making him feel he was Dio. A new Dio, a Dio no one could have thought ever existed, even him. A Dio that was just a man, for once.

He would become Dio, the man who would pick you fresh roses. Dio, the man who carried you over puddles on the street. Dio, who enjoyed drinking tea with you. Dio, who loved when you slipped into your mother tongue. Dio, who held you when you cried. Dio, the man who would get curious whenever you would remark joyfully about his birth marks, saying he must have been lucky.

The only thing “lucky” about him was you. That’s all he could genuinely point out in his life as “lucky” and “good”.

So slowly, and foolishly, the only thing he could do was simply let you in deeper into his heart, letting you carve your initials into him and marking him as your helpless servant.

----

It had now been two months since your passing. Dio returned to the mansion in a drunken stupor, finding he was unfortunately still aware.

Aware of how empty he was. How angry he was. How much he despised everything.

Why the hell was Jonathan crying over you? Jonathan knew nothing about you. Jonathan didn’t love you or care for you anywhere close that Dio did.

That rich boy who had everything handed to him and given to him just for existing knew nothing of the pain Dio was feeling.

He didn’t deserve to cry over you. Didn’t deserve to feel a god damn thing about you.

Dio was the one supposed to marry you- not him! So Jonathan should have left and let him grieve properly over the fact his betrothed was now gone.

Was this God’s way of punishing him? Huh? Was this his sick joke? A reminder to him that no matter he did, he was never meant to be happy?

Was that all his life was? One meaningless, empty joke for God to amuse himself with?

Dio couldn’t help but burn every letter he had kept from you over the years. He didn’t need them. With a bottle of alcohol in his hand and a few letters in the other, he held them over the fireplace and let them burn to ash and dust. He didn’t care. Couldn’t care less.

Nothing. Nothing. Nothing. Nothing could ever bring him satisfaction. Nothing could ever bring him joy or peace. He was obviously not meant to have it.

Even your own father tried to console Dio, having thought of him like a son, but Dio couldn’t bother. Your father promised to give employment and a portion his fortune to Dio still, already securing his future wealth.

But that wasn’t enough. It was not enough. For every ounce of love you tried to give Dio, he felt a thousand times more angry at the world he lived in.

He didn’t need this world. He didn’t want any of this. He couldn’t live like this.

He couldn’t die like you- oh god, no, he couldn’t. He’d most certainly be punished and made to repent for his sins.

As he burned the last of your letters, he downed the rest of the alcohol, burning his throat. He could not muster anymore tears, not after he laid the roses down on your tombstone. Dio Brando was dead and buried alongside you.

All that was left of him was his hatred.

So close to having everything he wanted, and now it was all gone.

He was so close to even giving up his earlier desires to torture Jonathan, instead content to protect your father’s business and travel with you after he finished getting his degree. But now he had nothing to hope for.

Drunk as he may have been, he found himself thinking like he did when he was a young boy.

Yes… I’ll just kill them all. I’ll ruin them all. I should’ve stuck with that plan originally.

He cursed himself between hiccups, cursing himself for daring to let you in, letting himself feel safe around you, letting himself be vulnerable and able to be torn to shreds by you.

It was his fault. His fault for all of this. If he hadn’t acted a fool and loved you, he could’ve had Jonathan gone, perhaps disowned or dying in a ditch somewhere. He could’ve been the richest, prodigal son of Britain. He would’ve been powerful then. He wouldn’t have had to have you extinguish every ounce of life within him.

He was no longer human. He was now Dio. Only Dio.

Dio, who hated everything. Dio, who had no love for anything but himself. Dio, who wanted everything erased. Dio, who had become exactly like the man he despised most.

He hated it all.

In his anger, he picked up the pictures you had given him and threw them all in the fire. He hacked out his lungs when the smoke billowed from them and surrounded him. A few photos began to melt before his very eyes, but for some reason, one of them caught his eye.

The terracotta, three story mansion from your trip in Cairo. The one you wanted to take him to. The one you two dreamed about going on your honeymoon for. The one you joked about possibly buying and redesigning to make it your home forever.

He gasped and grabbed the photo, blowing out the flame quickly and saving a majority of the picture. The corner was burned off, but the picture still remained. He held it to his chest and let out a shaky breath.

Cairo was something he could never give up. Cairo, the only place that would allow him to be with you. Cairo, the place where you two promised to go.

You promised.

So why…? Why? Why, why, why?

But Cairo would have to wait. He had something he needed to do first. Once he could get rid of Jonathan and George, and everything else that would stand in his way, then he could go there.

I will find you again in Cairo, my (Y/n)...

#x reader #reader insert #jojo #jjba x reader #jjba imagines #jjba #dio brando #dio brando x reader #phantom blood dio x reader #dio x reader

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almondx1ao · 21 days

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Curiosity doesn't kill the cat {Dio fluff}

_________

Cw: nothing just fluff

Word count: 742

_________

You were a curious little thing weren't you? You asked him so many questions and of course he was proud to answer them, this was Dio we were talking about. Of course he was going to take any opportunity to talk about himself. Dio was proud of himself and his accomplishments, but that's not what you wanted to know. He had boasted of his accomplishments all the time, so you already know of them.

What brought you the curiosity you had for 123 year old vampire was that he had existed in the 1800's, you weren't necessarily a history buff, but it's not everyday that you meet someone that old. So now the two of you laid in a dark room, the only illumination was the light from the dancing flames of the candles that surrounded you. The glow danced across your face as the flames swayed as the kept the room lit. Your eyes looked at him with a sparkle of excitement sparkled in them, the way they always did when you looked at him. His golden eyes looked over you, he couldn't help but be intrigued by your curiosity for him.

Dio let out a small chuckle and moved his hand to push back some of your hair behind your ear before cupping the side of your face. His palm pressed against the side of your face and squished up against your cheek, his eyes scanned your face to see your reaction,

"Darling are you sure you don't want to hear something more entertaining?"

He coaxed in a low voice, a slight smile pulled at his lips. You shook your head,

"It's only one in a million chances you get to talk to someone who can recall their time in the 1800's, What was it like?"

You said, you weren't going to let up were you? He rolled his eyes,

"It was hardly worth your interest my dear, definitely not in comparison to the wonders that this modern day and age holds."

You huffed a little,

"Well yes, but that doesn't take away from the fact that I want to hear about it."

Dio pressed a kiss to your forehead before pulling away and looking into your eyes once more,

"Maybe I will eventually tell you, but for now can we talk about anything other than what it was like in my past life?"

You looked into his eyes, behind the suave and confident facade you could see a sense of anger and sadness behind the charming golden glow. Dio would eventually share the good things he had experienced back then. Although they were few and far in between. A lot of the reason he didn't want to talk about it is because the memory of Dario Brando tainted his mind. He didn't want such a cute and curious little thing to ever know the horror of his self proclaimed father.

"Fine, fiiiiiiinnne."

You say as you hum and tap your chin in thought, eyes wandering until they found his once more,

"I'm curious."

Dio found a chuckle in his throat once more and let it out, when weren't you curious,

"What is it my love?"

You tilted your head as you looked at him, he knew you were probably going to ask a silly question, but he didn't mind talking to you and giving an answer he liked your curiosity,

"Do you ever miss how the sun used to feel on your skin, or its warmth in general?"

Dio's eyes widen just a bit but he chuckles,

"In my strive for power I never really considered the things I would miss. I guess you could say that, or we could consider something else."

Dio said, causing your eyebrows to furrow in curiosity,

"And what would that be?"

Dio felt a smile pull at his lips as his arms wrapped around you and pulled you close,

"Because my dear, you bring me the warmth that the sun used to give me, I don't need the warmth of the sun as long as I have you."

He said as he buried his face close to your cheek, giving it small kisses. Which caused the rose color that bloomed on them to grow, you buried your face in his shoulder in attempts to hide it, but you felt his hand grab your chin and turn your gaze back to his as he tsked,

"Let me see that pretty red color my love."

#dio brando #dio #jjba x reader #jjba #jojo imagines #jojos bizarre adventure #jojos bizzare adventure dio #jjba stardust crusaders #jjba golden wind #jjba stone ocean

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dollwritesarchive · 1 year

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Dio's definitely the type to be like "just the tip" and then it straight up turns into noncon because hes a meanie like that. His excuse will probably be something along the lines of "you're just too cute I couldn't resist" 😳

𝗰𝗼𝗻𝘁𝗲𝗻𝘁 𝘄𝗮𝗿𝗻𝗶𝗻𝗴𝘀 ∣ smut ( minors dni ), fem!joestar!reader, noncon, stepcest ( kinda ? adopt-cest?? if there’s a better term for this let me know? ), dio calls reader baby sister and little sister, loss of virginity, mean!dio, size kink, suggested abuse ( emotional and physical ), blackmailing, all characters featured are 18+

𝗶𝗺𝗽𝗼𝗿𝘁𝗮𝗻𝘁 ∣ IF I DONT WRITE FOR DIO AT LEAST ONCE A MONTH I WILL PERISH. do not repost or translate. please reblog && leave feedback. thanks for reading < 3

“Dio, don’t—“

it was all you could manage to blurt out before his large hand clamps over your mouth, muffling your protest to being bent over the dining room table. now, you could hear nothing but his heavy breathing in your ear, and the clinking of tea cups against their saucers as you struggled and pulled at the tablecloth. you’d knocked one over already, and stare at the steaming, amber liquid staining the pristine, white cloth. you would be in trouble for that later.

“Shhh, shh, sh.” Dio squeezed his fingers tight against your lips, but his other hand was grasping wildly at your skirt, wrenching it and your slip up to toss the flowy fabric against the small of your back before grabbing a fistful of your cotton panties. “Didn’t I say that I’d be nice if you were good?” he had said that, however Dio’s definition of nice simply meant that he wouldn’t twist your arms behind your back, so tight that he might break them, until you gave in and kissed him even though you would beg and beg him not to. or, that he wouldn’t sit on your chest, pinning you to the ground with all of his weight so he could fuck his fist and cum on your face while you cried.

it wasn’t a one time thing, no matter how many times you told him you didn’t want to do this with him, Dio was much bigger, much stronger, and much more cruel than you. he’d do and say anything to keep you as his little toy, even going so far as to threaten to tell your father and brother that you were sleeping with him. on the days he blackmailed you, you were always relatively compliant. you let him use your hands like his own, or let him grope at your ass while he did it himself, and you tried not to cry too loud, lest he get annoyed and get rougher with you.

instead of jerking the lingerie off of you, his thumb presses against the fabric, prodding your netherlips to part around the pad. “What I needed was a little help from my baby sister, I was suffering. Couldn’t you tell?” Dio croons when you blindly stomp at his feet— even if you managed to clip his toes under your heels, you weren’t strong enough to do any real damage against him. “I told you what I needed, no? It wasn’t that hard, just ‘drop down on your knees, close your eyes, and open that pretty mouth of yours. I’ll do all the work.’”

bucking back against him in hopes to wriggle free, you’re reminded of just how solid he was; big and immobile. it was like slamming yourself back against a brick wall, one that pushed itself into your shove and forced you back on to the table. “But you couldn’t even take the whole head in your mouth, could you? Crying to me that it was too big and you were too nervous. You didn’t want to choke on it, did you?” you shook your head, trying to scream against his palm that you didn’t want to do this— it was wrong, but your words were so muffled and jumbled that even if he was listening, he wouldn’t be able to decipher them. “You didn’t want to get caught sucking my cock, either, right? Well, don’t worry, little sister, nobody’s going to see you suck cock.” he pulls you up by the grip on your face, until his breath is heavy against your cheek, his other hand pulling your panties halfway down your trembling thighs. “If any of the kitchen staff happen to be eavesdropping, or if your father and JoJo return home early from their trip, they’re going to see me stretching your little cunt over me instead.”

both hands immediately flee to claw at the one he has clamped over your mouth, desperate for a chance to speak, a chance to plead with him. Dio knew you were a virgin, and he liked that. a lot. deep down, maybe you always expected something like this to happen, but now you were facing it, and you were terrified. if you knew Dio as well as you did, he wasn’t going to be gentle. guiding the crown of your head back against his pectoral, your eyelashes fluttered as you realize you’re screwed into a position perfect for looking up into those devil ruby eyes of his. just like he wanted. “There, stay right here and look up at me. I wanna see those pretty eyes get big and watery when I put it in—“ you squeal in opposition, shaking your head back and forth, trying to grip the skin of his palm in your teeth.

Dio shoved his lower body against yours harder, using his hips to pin you in place against the table so you couldn’t squirm too much while his hand flees from your panties to blindly undo his trousers, scoffing when you get even louder, even more restless and dig your nails into his arm, “Don’t be such a crybaby,” he purrs, grasping his cock at the base once he’s shimmied his pants down enough, and guides himself to rub his tip against your folds. you were slick and warm, and he groans, worming the head inside against your body’s resistance, “I’ll just give you the tip, nice and easy. I promise. Now, stay still and let me stretch that cunt.”

his lips find your forehead, smirking against it as he forces your body to stretch open around the swollen head of his cock, and your eyes widen and well up with tears just like he predicted, one helpless whimper reverberating in his hand. “Ahh,” Dio moans against your temple, letting go of himself once he was inside, grasping a handful of your ass instead, “How does that feel, little sister? Doesn’t it feel good to take your first cock?”

you squint as you look up at him and whine, pressing your wet and clumped lashes together to keep your tears from escaping your eyes— it wasn’t that it was incredibly painful. Dio was sizable, but if you’d been more prepared with foreplay, this might’ve even felt good. you knew that, but you also knew that Dio didn’t care. he never cared if you liked it, only that he did.

but his eyes are fixed on yours, reading all the hate and fear in them, and it only turned him on more. it only made him want to hurt you more. his grip on your ass tightened, nails digging in until you’re squirming, and he pushes his hips forward, breaking his lousy promise by shoving the remaining inches into you. you should’ve never believed that he would have so much self control, but the overload of cock has you screaming against his hand, your thighs vibrating when he bottoms out. “I’m sorry, baby sister,” he pants, dragging his open lips over your forehead, “but you’re just too tight. You look too cute trying to handle the tip, you’re making me want to fill you up and watch you break. I can’t resist,” Dio pulls back only to ram himself back into you, hilt deep, over and over again, falling into a mercilessly deep and hard rhythm that had you sobbing, knocking dishes off the table as you scramble for something to hold on to. “you’ve made me this ravenous. This rough. You’ll just have to be a good girl and take it until I cum, won’t you?”

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married-to-google-translater · 2 months

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Yandere Dio Brando (part 1)

Dio would be a possessive, manipulative and mentally sadistic yandere.

he would definitely "fall in love" with you just because Jonathan liked you.

This would really be the only reason to begin with.

And in his opinion, that would be perfectly sufficient.

Dio could be REALLY charming at first.

It would be very likely that you would fall for it.

And if you did there would be no way out.

Dio would develop feelings for you slowly.

And he really wouldn't know what to do with them.

Dio really doesn't understand anything about love.

His possessive and jealous side would often come out.

Especially if you said ANYTHING positive about Jonathan.

Actually, Jonathan's name should never be mentioned.

That would be an instant punishment.

And Dio's punishments are nasty.

They would not be visible.

No one would ever notice the toxic nuances in your relationship.

And no one would believe you either.

Dio would seem like the perfect partner.

Maybe he targets the area covered by the clothes.

Like hands, feet, etc.

Or it would be mental…

If you have a dog, be careful.

Sometimes Dio could be bonding.

If you would obey him.

These moments would be rare.

But there would be these.

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flowercrowngods · 1 year

Text

When Eddie finds Steve lying on the living room floor, he’s not concerned at first. It’s what he does sometimes, and Eddie himself can appreciate a bit of floor time on occasion, too, but for Steve it’s sacred. So he smiles and sits down beside him, grabbing his hand to play with his fingers, a “Hey, pretty boy” already on his lips before he freezes.

Because Steve isn’t all relaxed like he usually is, with his mind just a few inches off to the side where everything is calm and fine and better. And when he finally meets Eddie’s eyes, they’re not glazed over but sharp. Sharp with something that cuts right through Eddie, because he’s seen this look before, and he knows just what to do.

“Stevie, baby, I’m right here. I’m gonna make a call, okay, I will be right back.” When Steve opens his mouth, Eddie just leans down to press a kiss to his forehead. He’s not sure how much invasion of space is allowed, but Steve is still holding his hand so that has to count for something, right? “Shh, don’t speak,” he whispers. “It’s okay, I’ve got you.”

He tries not to kiss Steve like he’s about to break, or talk to him like something’s wrong, because nothing is wrong. Steve is not wrong for getting like this sometimes, it’s not his fault; it’s not something Eddie can’t handle. Steve doesn’t deserve to feel like he’s somehow wrong for getting into that headspace where words just won’t come out of his mouth and he needs to lie down and hope that will help.

Which, today it didn’t, apparently.

Eddie gets up with one last kiss to Steve’s hand and a reassuring smile, and goes to make a phone call. There’s only one person who can help Steve get out of his head, and Eddie doesn’t really understand it, nobody does, but they all know it.

“Hey, Joyce,” he sighs in relief when she answers the phone. “Is El home?”

“Eddie! Yes, she’s there, what… Steve?”

“Steve.”

Joyce sighs and Eddie knows she’s worried and wants to tell her not to be, it’s not fair to be worried, Steve hates when they worry, but. He’d be a hypocrite.

“You know you don’t have to ask, honey. Get over here, I’ll make some cocoa.”

With a smile, Eddie hangs up and goes back to Steve, crouching down beside him to stroke the hair out of his face. “Hey there again, pretty boy. I’m gonna drive over to Joyce’s, wanna tag along?”

What he really wants to say is, I’ll take care of you. Everything is gonna be just fine. But Steve doesn’t like the fuss. That kind of discussion is for another day, though. When Steve can actually get a word in.

That is how they find themselves in the Hopper-Byers household, Eddie holding Steve’s hand as the boy tries to make himself smaller than he is — like every time. Joyce doesn’t fuss, and Eddie knows just how much that takes, knows that Joyce is so much stronger than him in moments like this.

“Steve,” comes a small voice from the door to Eleven’s room, and Eddie finds the girl approaching them slowly. Beside him, Steve sways and Eddie tightens his grip for a second, brushing a kiss to Steve’s cheek before letting him go.

Eleven wraps her arms around Steve’s middle and the two of them just hold each other. They have a bond that none of them truly understand, one that Eddie knows even Robin is jealous of. But it makes sense, he figures. On some kind of deeply existential level, it does make sense for Eleven to be the one who can help Steve when he’s nonverbal like this.

Maybe because she doesn’t talk much. Maybe because around her he doesn’t feel like he has to be anyone or anything because it’s all the same to her. Or maybe there’s a special kind of magic in the way she will pull him onto the floor, their backs against the couch, his head on her shoulder and her fingers running through Steve’s hair.

They’ve been through something together. Maybe they go through something together every time they talk each other down without words — because in return, Steve does the same for her. It shouldn’t work, but it does.

It’s calm and quiet in the living room and Eddie shares a glance with Joyce before they step outside to give Steve and El some privacy.

“I hate seeing him like this,” Eddie admits finally. It’s hardly more than a whisper, a treacherous little truth that cuts into his heart every time this happens.

“I know,” Joyce says. “Me too.”

“I hate that I can’t help him.”

Oh the truths just keep coming. It’s that kind of moment.

“You’re helping him, honey. You are. But sometimes we need different people for different hurts. And that boy has more than all of us combined. Or… Well, not all of us.” And she’s looking through the window, watching El and Steve still wrapped around each other.

And it’s true. Eddie knows. Maybe that’s why he hates it so much. Steve’s nonverbal episodes are a stark reminder for all the pain he had to take upon himself. Alone. For years.

“Just love him through it,” Joyce continues. “Not despite it, not because it it. Just through it.”

“I am. I do. Don’t think I could stop even if he asked me to.”

She smiles and squeezes his hand. “Good. Now, join me on a run to the bakery? I think they’ll need something sweet when they’re back with us.”

With one last glance through the window, seeing Steve calm and quiet, Eddie bows and offers his arm to Joyce. “I’d be delighted to join you, lady Byers.”

It’ll be fine, he tells himself. They’ll be fine.

#steddie #steve x eddie #steve & eleven #stranger things fanfiction #nonverbal steve and nonverbal eleven do you catch my drift #maybe i should have written this from steve’s pov but it wouldn’t be a random dio vibe fic if it made sense huh?#nonverbal steve harrington #idk what this is but i’m probably projecting huh #oh yeah this might actually possibly be set post-time travel au since that’s my current brainrot but feel free to imagine whatever au #dio words #time travel au #time travel au ficlet

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colourstreakgryffin · 6 months

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Hello! I hope you are doing well! If possible, may I please request some Jojo headcanons for Jonathan, Erina, and DIO with an S/O who has a stand that, much like [The World], has the ability to stop Time and… they use it for the most mundane of purposes? Like, no evil plans or anything, they just use it to help them out perhaps? Like if their missing something, they suddenly have it in their hands, etc? Also, I love the idea of non-stand users just meeting a stand user, DIO is there because he’s… DIO lmao.

My first and last ever JoJo’s Bizarre Adventure request! So, let’s do it! Phantom Blood characters. Def favs were Phantom Blood and Battle Tenacity! Joseph is my hero! Thank you dearly

Joestar Jonathan

Jonathan is just shocked and so fascinated… Simple as that; nothing more, nothing less. Are you magic? No. He saw you just sitting there and now, there is a water bottle in your hands from literally nothing? How is that possible!

Jonathan is so intrigued by your ‘invisible hands’ that he asks questions. How does it work? Is it magic? Is it psychic? Can anybody get such abilities? Is it like vampirism? He becomes a curious, cute little child as his blue eyes sparkle with hope to learn

Jonathan won’t ever try make you do anything you don’t want but he would be interested to see your invisible hands fight and he even tries to touch your STAND. He simply encourages you and compliments you about your amazing ability in the STAND! You have additional greatness, alongside your amazing personality

Jonathan is mainly just so interested and curious to learn more about a STAND user, everything they haven to offer

Pendleton Erina

Erina is frightened by how you’ll be in one spot before she blinks but once she does, you’re somewhere else. She can’t be seeing things! That’s impossible… so what are you doing? She is kinda too shy to ask about it but the way she acts, it’s obvious she wants to

Erina wonders if this magical ability of yours is dangerous or not as you insist to her it’s harmless whilst making a object ‘float’ in midair. She can’t see it… so what are you referring to? She does believe you as you speak, but at the same time, she just wants to see this creature you have described to her herself

Erina is such a polite girl. So, she keeps most of her questions to herself and she tries to keep out of the way of your STAND but if you have it pick her up from falling over, she will be frightened by the invisible hands but thankful to your own kindness. If you let her, she’ll try touch your STAND

Erina may be a bit suspicious about such a existence, but she does believe you and would love to learn more about a STAND user

DIO

DIO cannot believe your STAND is so much like his The World that he is completely interested in you straight away. You can stop time as well? He must know exactly the limits and abilities of your time-stopping STAND to figure out how it ties to The World

DIO is annoyed by how you don’t use your STAND for the right reasons but for such nonsensical reasons. STANDS are built for battle and you’re using your extremely powerful one to do such mundane tasks since you proclaim; “it is more comfortable for you”. Don’t be such a moron!

DIO may have a matching ability to yours but not even he can predict nor notice you using the time stop. You’ll be somewhere as he turns away then you’ll be gone from the room when he turns back. DIO knows to always be ready as your STAND and The World can openly clash

DIO knows of STAND users but a STAND user with the same ability as his has his undivided attention and fascination

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dollwrites · 1 year

Text

𝐬𝐮𝐠𝐚𝐫 𝐨𝐧 𝐦𝐲 𝐭𝐨𝐧𝐠𝐮𝐞 — 𝐝𝐢𝐨 𝐛𝐫𝐚𝐧𝐝𝐨

𝗰𝗼𝗻𝘁𝗲𝗻𝘁 𝘄𝗮𝗿𝗻𝗶𝗻𝗴𝘀 ∣ smut ( minors dni ), fem!reader, dark fic, noncon, fear kink, graphic depictions of death and gore, chasing, manhandling, threats against reader, degradation, virgin!reader, oral sex ( f!receiving ), size kink, blackout mention, Dio is very mean, all characters featured are 18+

𝗶𝗺𝗽𝗼𝗿𝘁𝗮𝗻𝘁 ∣ do not repost or translate. please reblog && leave feedback. not proofread so there’s probably mistakes. thanks for reading <3

𝗻𝗼𝘄 𝗽𝗹𝗮𝘆𝗶𝗻𝗴 ∣ sugar on my tongue by the talking heads

you could hear his laugh— evil and taunting— booming through the abysmal corridor behind you, and the hissing and snarling of his undead army that was also in hot pursuit. “Where are you running off to, hmm?” he calls, and the baritone surrounds you. he’s not everywhere, you try to tell yourself, it’s just the echoes. “I won’t let you leave the castle grounds. However, by all means, go on and try, get your sweet blood pumping!” another morbid laugh like distant thunder, and you take the first new hallway that opens up to the left. “I can smell it from here, that lovely smell will lead me straight to you.”

you’d made a mistake coming here so late at night, with a boy you hardly even knew. you’d kissed him, and let him loosen your corset, even though you felt uneasy. even though you’d never kissed a boy before. even though the whole night felt wrong. then, the laughter started. from somewhere deep in the blackest shadows, a predator stalked, watched, and found amusement in your innocent fumbling and uncertainty, and stepped into the light. he named himself Dio right before he ripped the boy in half right in front of you. some of his blood was still seeping into the cotton of your dress. what he hadn’t seen, however, was the jagged stone you’d hidden underneath your skirt, clutching it tight in the palm of your fragile hand. so, whenever he scooped you into his arms, and leaned in to taunt you, or perhaps even kiss you, you’d swung the rock as hard as you could, making direct contact with his sculpted cheekbone, breaking the skin. it wasn’t much, but it was enough for his grip to loosen enough so that you could slip through his arms and run.

you were panting, your lungs burning in your chest, your eyes puffy and sore from crying. but one glance over your shoulder yielded the confirmation; the reason you couldn’t stop— hundreds of ghouls had crammed themselves into the hallway, some staggering after you, others chasing you on all fours. you turn your eyes forward again, ignoring the hem of your skirt that catches on a dilapidated and unrecognizable statue, ripping a slit all the way up to your thigh, and both hands hit a sturdy door when you hit the dead end of the corridor, slamming yourself into it with a pathetic huff. luckily, the door, like the rest of the manor, is old and crumbling, and it whines as it flies open and you stumble over the threshold, only to let out a blood curdling scream.

inches from your feet is a pile of innards, and what could’ve been a corpse at one time, but has since been devoured, piece by piece, by the monsters squatting down over it. they both look up and growl, clumps of half-eaten human flying from their bloodied mouths as you stumble back. you wanted to collapse, but didn’t have the time.

countless pairs of gruesome hands snatched at you, dragging you into a horde of them. you wailed and fought against them, half expecting to be shredded, too. you weren’t, however you could hear — and feel — your dress tearing as they snatched at you. your neckline ripped, one sleeve hanging loosely against your arm and the other chunk of fabric lost in the sea of rotting bodies as they tossed you back and forth. your throat is hoarse from screaming when you’re finally spit out the opposite end of the crowd, and flung right into Dio’s arms, which welcome you with a tight grip on one wrist and the other palm splayed over your midriff, pulling your back to his solid frame. “No!” you cry out, but he’s already twisting your wrist.

“Now, now,” he croons against your neck, wringing your wrist until the blood-stained stone falls from your grip and clatters against the floor, “listen to that heart thumping.” you felt sick to your stomach when you realized he could hear it. “Fragile, little thing is about to beat right out of your chest.” you squirm, trying desperately to pull away from him, but his lips have sought out the cuts on your palm, turning it over to expose them to his mouth. first, they graze over the wounds, and you wince. “You’re about as nervous and dangerous as a newborn kitten.” his tongue slithers out to prod at the scratches, urging more blood to the surface, and he smirks as he tastes it. his lips then travel, parted and dragging over your skin, up your arm, ignoring the sleeve that hangs in tatters, and he presses you back into him tighter when he reaches your throat. “So soft— I could rip your jugular out with one bite.”

“P—please—“ you rasp, the tips of his fangs tingling against your hypersensitive flesh.

“Such a meek, little plea,” he teases, the expanse of his massive hand careening upwards over your breast to rest against your heartbeat, his digit tips just barely touching your chin, “what are you begging for, kitten?” he allows their sharpness to scrape, and you whimper, melting against him and hoping to become so small he couldn’t reach you. it was impossible, as his face was buried in your neck already, but you tried nonetheless.

“I—I don’t want to die…”

he laughs at this, as does his minions, and you feel a burning humiliation creep upon your cheeks. “No? Are you afraid of dying?” he asks, feigning sympathy, and his fingers take hold of your face. he angles it towards him, and your tear-filled gems look up at his stone-cold countenance. you nod, the scratch on his cheek was healing as you watched, and your mountainous captor stared down at you. the crown of your head is pressed against his chest; you were just so damn small compared to him. “Are you afraid of me?” another nod, and his crimson eyes flicker over your petrified expression. you couldn’t catch your breath— your lips parted and hot puffs of air wheezing out, your chest rising and falling beneath the stretched fabric of what was left of your neckline. you avoided looking into his eyes, but you could tell he was drinking in every inch of you. “Smart decision for a very stupid girl.” he replies, dipping his head towards you. you start to pull away, recoil, but his grip on your cheeks hold you in place. that devious tongue of his skirts along his lower lip, tasting your broken breath as it lands on his tiers. then, his carmine eyes flicker up to yours, and his smile widens, “Tell me that you fear me.”

you couldn’t even think— you were staring, wide eyed and horrified into two, piercing rubies. he wanted to hear how scared you were, he wanted you to say it out loud, but there was a lump so big and dry in your throat that you didn’t think you could force the words past it.

“Come now, don’t keep me waiting.”

you gasp when he squeezes your cheeks together hard, forcing your lower lip to poke out in a childish pout, and you acquiesce to his will. “I’m afraid,” you whisper, each syllable hard pressed to slip into the air, “I’m— I’m afraid of you—“

Dio chortles, closing what was left of a gap between he and you, and his tongue ran along the shape of your lips. you flinch, and seal them tight, but he’d already gotten his taste. “Mm…” he moans, more to himself, and runs his tastebuds over his own mouth, and then flicks at his fangs. “I do love the taste of fear on those pretty lips, like sugar…” he croons and places a sloppy kiss on your mouth. regardless of how you wanted to reject it, he forces your lips to fit against his with a hard push, opening them wide so that he may shove his tongue inside. you squeal in protest against his mouth, wriggling and desperate to get free, but his strength too greatly outweighed your own. your own tongue bunches up in resistance, trying to push his out of your mouth, but you start to gag on it. you considered biting down on his, biting it off even, but ultimately decided against it.

you were in no position to fight back anymore.

when he’s drank his fill of your kiss, he pulls back, the lips that have battered your own dripping and shiny with your saliva and stretched over deadly fangs, and you pant, twisting in his grip. he watches you for a moment, amused. “I would wager you taste just as sweet everywhere, don’t you?” you shook your head, cheeks on fire and eyes closed tightly, pulling in the opposite direction, but his hand drops, grabbing the neckline of your dress in a powerful fist and tearing it with a swift yank. the force is enough to arch your back, the fabric screaming, and then your breasts are bare and exposed, rising with heavy, nervous breaths.

there’s a whooping from the horde of undead as they crowd closer around, licking and biting at the air as if they can taste your fear in it, and you recoil away from them, pushing you deeper into Dio’s wicked embrace, which wasn’t ideal, either.

“Look at this,” he purrs, sharp nails dragging over your otherwise unmarked skin. they trace his name, slowly, as he takes in your visage, “skin so fresh and supple.” his eyes twinkle, pure malevolence behind them as the tip of his nail traces your nipple, watching it harden as he does. “I could think of a hundred different ways to paint you crimson, my dear.” you shake your head, whimpering in soft protest, and he cocks his head to the side, “What? You don’t think red would look so pretty on you? The color of roses?” he chuckles, grabbing a fistful of your tender breast and squeezing until you mewl and sag into the rough treatment, “Timid, little thing, aren’t you? Frightened so easily.” his head dips, tongue dragging along your nipple, and when you gasped, your thighs clamping together to stop the feeling of his teasing flooding your core, he reads you like an open book. “I think you like this.” you start to shake your head yet again, but his hand has already abandoned your chest, hiking your skirt up to feel between your thighs. they were slick with sweat and… something else. your desire and shame. “You’re dripping, kitten. Do you enjoy my teasing that much?”

your thighs press harder into each other, but his fingers work to pry them apart, slipping in between to feel your bare sex. you choke back a gasp, your only free hand grasping at his wrist trying to pull it from your core as you jerk against his rubbing, but it was as effective as an ant trying to push a thumb away before it’s crushed beneath the force. “N—no…” but, much to your own dismay, you were soaking his fingertips and he was howling with amusement.

“Well, now, isn’t this cunt just so sensitive— I’ve hardly even touched you, and you’re all jitters already. Could I have caught a little virgin in my web?” humiliation floods your eyes, and you close them tight, turning your face away from him and digging your chin into your shoulder. he coos, leaning close enough for you to feel the chill or his skin against your cheek, and the ghastly drag of his lips as he spoke, “Good. The first and only cock you’ll ever wrap around will be Dio’s, your new master.”

“…I want to wake up…” you beg under your breath. surely, this had to be a terrible nightmare. so you kept biting down on your lip and repeating it. “I want… to wake up…”

“Eh?” he asks, grinning, “Stupid thing thinks she’s dreaming.” a wave of vicious cackling rolls through the corridor, and you shudder. a moment later, you feel him shifting, dropping to his knees in front of you. cautiously, you crack one eyelid and look down to see him ripping what was left of your skirt aside. there’s a flurry of cotton before it all settles on the floor. you shiver, stumbling back. Dio releases your wrist and grasps one ankle, hiking it up on to his shoulder. it threw your balance completely off; even on his knees, the man before you was still monstrous, and you were forced to stand on the tip toes of the opposite foot to stay upright. “Let’s find out if fear makes your cunt as sweet as your lips.”

both eyes opened wide, but you had no time to react before he was smashing his face against your sex, the bridge of his nose creating a solid cradle for your aching clit, and the thick muscle hiding in his mouth wiggled between your netherlips, gathering the taste of your essence on to his tastebuds. he growled, and the sound vibrated against you, sending every nerve into overdrive. both your hands dig into his golden locks, pulling hard to attempt to force his head back, but the scratching and scrambling didn’t phase him one bit. he didn’t budge, instead he laughed, then his words were slurred against you. “Don’t be so ungrateful,” his eyes glint in the dusky moonlight pouring through a broken window, and it seems so shameful and sinful to look down your naked torso at him. you could see the muscles in your own tummy contract when he nuzzled against your clit, and you clamped one hand over your mouth to keep your moans quiet. crying out for how good it felt would only make this all too real— and would give him the satisfaction of knowing that you couldn’t control it. “Your new god is on his knees for you, lapping at your trembling pussy. You should be singing my praises.” none too gently, he snags your clit with his teeth, creating a vice around it and rolling his tongue over the nub.

you bleat, and your knees buckle— the sole leg holding you up giving out. but Dio doesn’t let you crumble. with one hand fleeing, he wraps a massive fist around your throat to hold you in place, the furious muscles of his gargantuan arm hard and bulging against your torso. the pressure is enough to startle you, even though he doesn’t squeeze. you imagine the beast of a man could break your neck with little effort. this new grip occupies your mind, and your hands try to wrap themselves around his wrist instead, but it’s even too big for your fingertips to meet.

“You are a pathetic little kitty cat, aren’t you?” he teases, suckling on your clit until you see stars behind your eyelids, and your toes are curling, “You can’t even stand up on your own anymore. Just a few, easy flicks of my tongue and you’re putty in my hands. Makes my cock hard watching you lose this fight, knowing you know you’re fucked.”

you don’t want him to be right, but when he punctuates his statement by licking a fat stripe between your netherlips, you cry out, and your nails dig into his tough flesh. “Please!! Ha— have mercy…”

“Go on,” he urges, “cry for mercy. Scream for me. It won’t change a thing. You belong to me, now, and I’m going to break you in every way possible, starting with tongue fucking never ending orgasms out of your delicate, little body until it gives out. You’ll black out, and wake up to my big cock stretching you open.”

#dio brando x you #dio #dio brando #dio x reader #dio x you #dio smut #dio brando x reader #dio brando smut #jjba #jjba x reader #jjba x you #jjba smut #jjba imagine #jojo’s bizzare adventure x reader #jojo x you #jojo’s bizarre adventure x you #jojo's bizarre adventure #jojo no kimyou na bouken #jojo

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