9 Dio(phantom blood)x Reader

Erina Pendleton had been your best friend during your childhood years. You two had played dollhouse and tea party together when you were toddlers, and branched into other interests as young adolescents. Of course you began to attract interest from, and become interested in the boys around town. However most of them were unusually crass. You would meet them whilst you walked through the fields of the farm country, and you would try to strike up a polite conversation. However, they were more interested in poking frogs, stomping in the mud, trying to impress you by bullying the rest of their crew. You generally ended up avoiding them. Except one: Jonathan Joestar. Originally, Erina had met Jonathan when he stood up for her against the other boys. You could see the romance blossoming between them. Occasionally you would tag along on their various excursions, and Jonathan was always extremely polite, but you gave them leave to get to know each other. You would be lying if you said you weren't a bit jealous, however you were happy to see your best friend enjoying the company of such a chivalrous young man.

Unfortunately, this was not to last long. Jonathan's father unexpectedly took it upon himself to care for another young man of approximately the same age as you three: Dio Brando. He came from a poorer family in London, though his politeness and gentility rivalled even that of Jonathan himself. Though underneath this chivalrous exterior lay a cold heart, even crueller than that of the crude young men who seemed to swarm around him as his followers.

Dio would physically abuse Jonathan, verbally abuse Erina, however, almost never seemed to take notice of you. Jonathan would come to meet you, a smear of blood across his forehead, a bruised cheek. Erina would become increasingly worried, wiping his wounds with a dampened handkerchief. However, you would become enraged.

Eventually, you felt it was time to confront Dio. After recent events involving him going as far as to steal Erina's first kiss, you felt his behaviour was despicable and unforgivable.

You had observed him before exchanging words or fists with Jonathan, but you had never confronted him with your own words… or fists. He was playing in the field, using a branch to destroy a small anthill as the small insects scurried from the chaos.

"Excuse me, Mr. Brando." You feigned innocence and politeness, as he slowly turned to look you up and down.

He was a handsome boy, undeniably. However you could see that evil glint in his eyes. He slowly stood, rivalling your height by at least ten centimetres.

"I'd like to introduce myself, my name is (l/n), (y/n) (l/n)." You expected him to look down his nose at you with disgust, but his demeanour remained complimentary.

"Good day, Ms. (l/n). I would introduce myself, but you already seem to know who I am. I do believe I have seen you before. However, I cannot recall where."

You had expected him to at least recognise you, however, he truly did not know who you were. This enraged you even more, and, as a twelve year old child, you could hardly control your emotions.

"One of my good friends is actually quite close to you." you paused as his eyebrows raised. "He talks about how all the time. I thought I should actually meet you for myself, and," You took in a breath through gritted teeth. "Repay you for all you've done to him.

The corners of his mouth lifted upwards, angering you further. Without hesitation, you lifted your skirts and swung your leg backwards. He had no chance to react as you kneed him, hard, right in between his legs. He cried out in pain, falling backwards in the grass. You tackled him, throwing a punch at his jaw. Crimson droplets fell from his lip as he caught his breath. You knew you shouldn't beat him too harshly, however, you dearly wanted to avenge Erina and Jonathan. He slowly, turned his head, to look up at you bewildered, and almost… amazed. You gave him a final slap before stomping away.

Years passed. Erina moved away. You began to talk less and less with Jonathan after her disappearance. But, strangely, you grew closer with Dio. You weren't friends per say. Sometimes you found him following you, silently, as you strode through the fields. Sometimes you talked, though you were generally bitter and trite in your comments. However, whenever you were in the presence of both Jonathan and Dio, they seemed to act more civil with each other. Dio would withhold his malicious comments, and over the years, they almost seemed to become friends.

Within two years, you had moved to another country mansion several miles away. You barely ever thought about them again.

Your nineteenth birthday was approaching. Though you had been reared as a polite young lady, you still gained pleasure from being an active member of society, and chose to spend the summer at one of the small peasant towns adjacent to your mansion, as an assistant as an orphanage.

A cry sounded through the night. You awoke to blazing rooftops, screaming villagers.In a panic, you awoke the children, unaware of where the headmistress was. Gently pulling the two sleeping babies from their cribs, you gave them to the eldest of the orphans. Frantically, you instructed them to escape out the back door, though still, throughout all the commotion, you could not grasp what exactly the emergency was. It could be a fire or an angry mob.

You heard the crash of hard wood sound from the entrance. As you shooed the last of the children away, you turned to face the large figure of a man. For an instant, his face flickered with unending evil and malice. Then, he softened, his dark eyes seemingly lightened. Then splitting sound. Everything went black.

You awoke to a cold dampness on your brow. You laid on a mattress far more comfortable the cot you had been sleeping on for the last several weeks. The silken sheets shone with a pearlescent glow in the dim stone room. The figure loomed over you, pressing a wet cloth to your forehead. You gasped, remembering the chaos of the night before. Scanning your body for cuts, burns, or bruises, you noticed your grimy work clothes had been discarded for an elegant night slip. Your skin was clean as if you had been bathed recently, and any injuries were treated and wrapped with crisp white bandages.

Groggily, you gazed at the man before you. He was a handsome man, undeniably. However you could see an evil glint in his eyes. You hesitated, slowly recognising the face.

"Dio?" You whispered hoarsely. His face lit up as he realised you were awake.

"(y/n)," He cooed softly. When you had been younger, he had always referred to you as 'Ms. (l/n)', almost as if he had. even scared into showing you formality. However, something was different now. He was in the position of power this time. And yet, he had not abused that power thus far.

You gathered what little strength you had to sit up, but the muscular man tending to you gently, but firmly, laid you back down.

"You need to rest. I tried my best to treat your head injury,"

"Dio," you began forcefully, "What happened?" He was silent. This was very unlike the Dio you had known all those years ago. He was neither vicious, nor conniving, nor smug and sarcastic. His features softened. He almost seemed… guilty.

"I didn't know you were here. As soon as I saw you," he trailed off. "I'm sorry."

"What happened." He looked down at the cold stone floor, removing himself from his place at your bedside house to sit in an armchair facing the dim fireplace. You took a chance to observe be the room around you. On the walls hung several ornate tapestries, possibly hundreds of years old. The mantelpiece was sculptured marble. It certainly was not the Joestar mansion. It dawned on you that it may have been the old castle up the hill from your quaint little village. You could have sworn it was occupied by some lord or another. Or maybe something had happened to the lord.

Slowly, Dio told you all that had happened since you had parted with Jonathan and he, leaving in each and every detail, no matter how insignificant. He merely recalled the facts, trying his best to leave his true thoughts and feelings. However, occasionally, his voice would raise. He would grip the edges of the armchair, only to return to this calm and collected state, as merely recounting the history was cathartic. The flame of the hearth reflected in his amber eyes, as you remained, shocked, in your prostrate position. As his tale finished, he slowly stood to return at your side.

He slid his calloused fingers to intertwine with yours.

"Please forgive me."

You couldn't speak.

"I hate Jonathan Joestar. I always have hated him. I wanted to take my frustration out on the world, to conquer it village by village. But then I saw your face, and… I remembered…" His deep eyes were thoughtful.

"I was such an idiot child back then. That first day I saw you, I must admit, I thought you were quite the beautiful young lady. Nothing special at first. But then, you had the nerve to strike me, to take revenge for your little friend Erina. You enraptured me. No one else had dared to defy my will." He let out a wry chuckle.

"Erina was such a sweet little child. But no one rivalled your beauty, your intellect, your vivacity."

"Dio," tears came to your eyes, "I thought you had changed,"

"My dear, I'm not sure if I'll ever change," he paused. "Unless, it would make you love me. You could be with me, I could turn you. You would be there to hold me back when I went to far, to help me strategize–"

"But why are you doing this?"

His expression contorted. "Do you think I know? Why your very appearance prompts me to question my motives? Everything I've worked for up to now seems meaningless now that I've found you."

"Dio," you whispered, thoughts reeling.

"Will you take me?" his voice was pleading.

"Kiss me."

Without any hesitation, he pounced upon your lips, hungry for your touch. As his one hand held your fingers in his firm grasp, his other came up to rest against your cheek. But the kiss was cut short, as he pulled away. He gazed into your eyes, mesmerised, as he continued to rub his fingers over your soft cheek. You leaned into his palm am first, then, used your own hand to guide it down to rest at your waist. Taking this as an invitation, he drew his large thigh up and over your hips. His lips crashed back onto yours as your free hand rested on the nape of his neck, feeling his soft blond locks run between your fingers. He tasted sweet as you ran your tongue across his surprisingly soft lips, quick parted at your touch. You untangles your fingers from his so you could place your hand on his lower back, forcing him closer. Much to your dismay, he left your lips, however he continued to suck at your neck as you moaned with pleasure. You drew your hands away from their positions as you tugged at the fabric of his coat, ripping it off of his massive shoulders. His fingers played with your hair, massaging your scalp, as you began to unbutton his shirt. As he made his way back to your mouth, you ran your palms down his muscular chest.

You didn't understand what you were feeling. This insatiable hunger for more from the man you had hated, despised. But you knew you could keep your desires under control. You could keep him under control. After just a bit more…