to all the readers of dark content on tumblr, i know that it has been a lot lately to see how everyone is being treated. i worry about u all! ppl talk lots about the creators here and the hate we are getting, but that also reflects on all of you that consume our content, and i want you to know some things:
you are not bad or gross or wrong for reading the stuff you read. it's not real, no one is being hurt, and thinking its hot doesn't mean you want it irl or you want it to happen to you! going to a slasher movie doesn't mean u will leave and go to stab someone to death :p
it's ok to set boundaries! if there is a blog or a person that constantly talks down on dark content or the people who read it, it's ok for you to block them. i know it can be a little bit addictive to check them over and over and see what theyre saying about ur favs (or about u guys for reading it) but they're never going to say anything productive!
you will always have a community. despite these ppls best efforts, we will always write about the dc we write, and there are always new and fun blogs popping up! so many of us writers rlly want you all to have a place where you feel safe and not judged while u read what we write! my blog will always be a safe place for u no matter what, and there are many others here who can say the same!
things are very disheartening right now, and i hope u are all taking care of your mental health and giving urself a break! its ok to be overwhelmed even just as a reader, because this is your space too. i love u all so much, thank u for giving me the most beautiful community ever!!!! if u just lurk or if ur one of my nonnies i love u all just the same <3
all my readers have been in my heart lately. god i want to scoop u all up and keep u in my pocket :3
hiii friend… could you do a doppio/diavolo x fem! or GN Reader (smut)
i think it’s a fun concept to play around with doppio and diavolo switching while having sex with reader. although doppio can be dominant it’s more possessive with diavolo if that makes sense?
blindfold: diavolo x fem! reader x doppio vinegar
minors dni!
a/n: hi friend! thank you for the request! i love writing for doppio and diavolo, honestly. so, i hope you enjoy this as much as i did! enjoy!
summary: you and doppio try something new in the bedroom.
warnings: smut containing piv, blindfold use (on reader), petnames (tesoro), possessive diavolo, slight dubious consent (reader doesn't know it's diavolo)
word count: ~1.3k
“Let’s try something new.”
He pulls away only to murmur against your lips as his fingers trail up and down your bare arms. Half-lidded eyes flicker across his face to take in the deep blush sprawled across his freckled cheeks and just how intently he’s looking at you.
“Sure,” you breathe out, and Doppio wastes no time before he’s pulling away. He shuffles around in the drawer of the nightstand, and you can’t help but notice the grin that tugs at his lips when he proudly presents the black blindfold to you.
You take in the sight of the piece of fabric. It looks like silk, something soft and sleek especially when he scoots closer to dangle it in front of your face.
“Do you like it?”
Doppio chirps as he smiles at you, eyes scrunching in the corners with the tilt of his head. That smile only widens when you nod and stroke your fingers along the blindfold in his hands.
“It’s nice.”
Doppio hums in agreement before he’s pressing a kiss to your lips again, hands now reaching up to brush against your temples with the blindfold between his fingers.
The material presses softly against your eyes as he secures it around your head, and darkness overtakes your vision. You hear the sheets rustle when Doppio moves and the faint hiss between his teeth when he sucks in a breath.
“Can you see anything?” he softly asks, falling silent when you shake your head.
“Nothing at all.”
The silence that follows goes on for a long beat as neither of you move and for a brief second, you wonder if he’s left the bedroom all together.
“Doppio-”
The call of his name morphs into a gasp when fingers dance along your hip. The touch is feather-like, barely even there before he’s pulling away again. The mattress dips and creaks under his weight, and your eyes flicker behind the blindfold in an attempt to track his movements.
Then there’s nothing once more, but you can feel his eyes upon you. Watching and waiting. You can sense his presence and vaguely hear the bated breath that threatens to slip from his lips. Your own part, and the syllables of his name form on your tongue.
“Tesoro,” he breathes out, deep and heavy and low. It nearly doesn’t sound like Doppio at all. The tone is dark, and the cadence of that petname he frequently calls you lands all wrong.
“Do I need to teach you a lesson in patience?”
The air suddenly shifts, thickening to where it’s almost suffocating as it warps around you. Something about it feels all wrong, especially as you no longer feel Doppio’s familiar gaze upon you. You don’t even hear the bed creak before he’s suddenly in front of you with two fingers finding your chin to tilt your head from side to side.
Lips brush against yours, and you can feel the warmth radiating off his body that inches every bit closer to yours. The hand at your chin, warm and calloused, trails down to brush against your throat. There’s a firm squeeze to the base, and the breath catches at the sheer and utter power that lies behind those digits so lazily wrapped around your neck. You know he can feel you tense, yet the hand remains.
He takes a breath, still just hovering in front of you like he’s waiting, almost daring you to make the next move with his hair tickling your cheek.
“Doppio…”
There’s no answer, only the flexing of his fingers against the tender flesh of your throat while the other hand settles at your hip. It’s only then does he lean in to close the distance with his lips slotting against yours. His tongue slips into your mouth, wet and messy and dominating in a way that makes your knees weak and your head spin.
You reach for him with a trembling hand, fingers just barely grazing against his toned chest before the hand at your hip is no longer there - instead snatching your wrist and pinning it by your head with enough force to send a jolt of pain down your arm. If he notices you wince, he doesn’t say anything about it. Instead, he keeps you there. Pinned in place as the hand at your throat slowly trails down to cup one of your breasts with a thumb brushing against the stiff nipple.
A shudder wracks through your body, and your eyelids flutter beneath the blindfold at the sensation. It’s then that you realize that you feel him when he shifts above you, length hard and leaking against the inside of your thigh. The hand at your breast dips lower and lower with his fingertips brushing along your tummy before reaching your mound.
A gasp falls from your lips when two fingers swipe along your wet folds, and you hear a low, rumbling hum of approval from the depths of his chest. The grip on your wrist is released, but your hand remains against the bed with goosebumps rising on your skin as his hands end up at your hips. They smooth across the heated skin before giving a firm squeeze, and you feel the mattress shift underneath you when he settles between your legs.
You find yourself holding your breath, especially when the tip of his cock prods at your opening. There’s little resistance when he pushes in, but the stretch is immense as inch after inch works its way into you. The feeling of being full overtakes you, and you think dumbly that for some reason he feels bigger. Much bigger. But then he’s moving, setting a harsh pace with his hips snapping into yours that has your head falling back amongst the pillows.
Your hands are on him now with no room left to think, scrambling for purchase at his broad shoulders as you moan. And this time, he doesn’t push you away. He lets your nails rake down his back and shoulders, no doubt leaving angry red streaks against his pale skin.
“D-Doppio!” you cry out with the arch of your back off the sheets, moaning and writhing as he pounds into your cunt. It’s almost too much with the way his cock drags in and out of your clenching walls and how his cockhead bullies against your cervix. Doppio’s name falls from your lips like a matra, the sound of skin slapping against skin filling the air along with the wet squelch of your pussy.
And then you hear it: a low growl that you can feel clawing its way out of the depths of his chest. The pace gets meaner, angrier as the breath is knocked out of your lungs and your back slides against the sheets with a particularly hard thrust. All you can do is cry out and cling to him tighter as your orgasm steadily grows, faintly feeling his head resting in the crook of your neck now.
He’s growling again, low and muffled against your skin as you can just barely make out the words.
“Mine.”
But it’s there like a prayer even after you’ve cum on his cock, body trembling and legs tightening around his hips with that too deep voice echoing in your mind.
“You’re fucking mine.”
His hips stutter as he loses his rhythm with a bruising grip on your hips, and he sheathes himself inside of you one final time with that sticky warmth flooding your walls. You feel as the tension slowly begins to melt away from his form, body growing soft and pliant when he slumps against you.
The sound of Doppio’s soft groans fills your ears, and it’s only then do you reach for the blindfold - knowing that you’ll be sore for the days to come as you can’t help but wonder if it was really Doppio at all…
Warning(s): Adultery, smut, slurs mention, discrimination, racism ( it's the 1800s we're talking bout idk what you expect), degrading, Dio being Dio
Song: Body Party by Ciara
You were pinned against the wall heavy breaths escaping your mouth, feeling the rough hands of the person you served for carefully undoing your outfit, the reek of alcohol wrapped around your nostrils. This was wrong. This could get you fired. But you couldn't resist the temptation. Your eye darts around the room and your stomach feel butterflies, you'd never thought this was the way your virginity would get taken. How did it even get to this point?
You were hired to serve the Joestars not too long ago, your parents were stoked to hear that you were going to be working for them and put you under strict training to make sure you wouldn't fuck up and ruin their family name as if it wasn't already difficult enough for them to make ends meet, this was an opportunity you couldn't fumble on.
Meeting the Joestars was a huge deal. Picking you up from your old-run-down house that was somewhat stable enough, George Joestar was surprisingly polite allowing you to hug your parents one last time before being escorted to the horse and buggy. The trip felt long, hearing your heartbeat, sitting in silence, and tightening up your posture to impress the man in front of you. Upon arriving there he promised you "If you ever need anything let me know.". He introduced you to his 2 sons, Dio and Jonathan before letting you see the rest of your employees.
But working there for the first 4 months was a living hell. Your workmates wouldn't listen to you for help, purposefully making a mess and pinning it on you to clean it up, and oh let's not forget about the slurs they would say without a shame in the world. Not only that, they would comment on your features. Plumpy lips? Gross. Slightly bigger thighs? Lose some weight. An ass not small like theirs? What a cow. It didn't help that Dio, a guy you were also serving, would encourage their behavior to a degree. He'd tease you about the things the women would mention, enjoying the sight of you on the verge of tears. You had to power through it, you didn't have an option. Would you rather go back to living in a rust of a house or resume working with these terrible people? Thought so.
It was the week when the Joestars won the rugby game for their school, to celebrate, their father held a party at the infamous mansion. A busy week indeed, you worked your ass off ignoring the offensive comments your co-workers would say, your main focus was to get it over with and head back to your room. On the day of the party, the living room was packed, giving you much anxiety to the point where your arms were numb. "You! Fetch me a drink and a cheese platter, will you!?" "Yes, sir." Just stay calm and serve the rich white folks, they'd leave you alone! You thought to yourself. Mama always told you to appease the higher-ups if you don't wanna be thrown behind bars over something so small.
You walked around and see the man himself, Jonathan, stumbling on the stairs. "Be careful, sir!" you hurried over and helped him to get to the top, he was quite heavy, but you had the strength to make sure he wouldn't trip and fall over. "Room...my bedroom, please." you slowly took the Joestar over to his bedroom and closed the door behind you two. "Mr. Joestar, are you alright—" his big two hands pinning you against the wall, catching you off guard but your fight or flight instincts kicked in. "You're so beautiful, (Y/N). I would never understand why people tear your kind down..." his thumb caressing your cheek before bringing his face closer to yours. "You deserve someone who can give you what you need, not just money..." "Sir, I—" Before you could finish speaking, he pushed his tongue against your lips and tasted you. His tongue moved inside, licking and sucking on your lower lip, your cheeks, and neck until his fingers reached your shirt.
As if you couldn't breathe for a second, you held onto him feeling your legs getting shaky. The room abruptly became smaller, you couldn't focus on anything other than Jonathan, his warm breath, the way his eyes glistened under the lighting of the lamps, and the soft touch of his fingertips against your hips. As soon as he felt that your body relaxed, he kissed you deeply. He began to undo your uniform, the once knot behind you was now gone as it began to slowly slip off your shoulders. Jonathan's hand traveled down, stopping for a second at your waist before he started to kiss more fervently down your chest. The feeling of lust mixed with a sense of anxiety, apprehension that this would all end up in a disaster.
Your uniform was now on the floor. Jonathan couldn't help but stare at you, the way your white bra and panties were hugging you. The way you glowed in the dimmed room, what an extraordinary sight. Your heart beat rapidly, beating so hard you thought you might pass out right then and there. With no words left to say, he picked you up bridal style, the smell of your vanilla scent intoxicating. He carried you into his bed, laying you down gently before climbing on top of you. One of his hands ran down your thigh, your skin hot under his hand. Another hand trailed along your body, your back arched slightly as he rubbed his thumbs against your breasts. He brought his lips next to your ear whispering, "You're so beautiful…" "Sir…" you breathed out quietly.
So suddenly, he began to rub your clit through the fabric before rubbing your walls too. This sensation, this overpowering feeling, was driving you nuts. "Sir, you...you're engaged..!!" You let out a low moan when you felt him rub faster, and harder, you could barely handle it anymore. Your panties were now off and as well as your bra, laying naked in front of Jonathan. "(Y/N), my woman," Jonathan's voice turned husky, a bit rough and rough sounding as if he had been smoking for hours. Taking off his clothes, he placed them on the side of the bed, you looked at how well-defined his muscles were, and how he was hard as a rock. "Please tell me what you want, (Y/N)." "I want…a man like you," your voice was shaky but firm. "Please, sir, show me how you feel."
Oh, how painful it was at first. Like a shockwave went through your body feeling the tip ripped through your hymen. He reassured you, adjusting to his size and whatnot. After a few minutes, he began to move, little by little all of him was going inside of you. It took several tries for him to finally hit the spot you needed. "Oh god..!" you moaned loudly, quickly covering your mouth. You felt his pace increase, you weren't used to this type of pleasure and his thrusts made you weak in the knees. Jonathan moved your hand away "Let me hear your voice dear, I doubt the guests can hear you scream with the music blasting in the hall." Jonathan was sloppy, he began to get cocky. He pulled out before flipping you on your stomach, lifting your ass in the air before shoving it back in, making you scream "JONATHAN!" The 6'5 male kept slamming into you, the sight of your ass jiggling each time he trusted drove him insane, something he couldn't get from Erina.
It was almost like he wanted to punish her.
With each thrust you took Jonathan grew angrier, you were still screaming into the sheets as he entered you again, he pulled out, slamming himself back in harshly, pushing you so far past your limits he broke through, your whole body shook uncontrollably with pleasure. Leaning over, he grabbed your breasts and started to play around with them roughly, making sure that you knew he enjoyed watching you squirm underneath him.
"You're taking me so well," he praised you, kissing you on the neck. Your pussy was being punished by his aggressive, throbbing cock. "Sir, I think I'm going to cum!!" you whined, your head thrown back, your teeth biting the pillow. "Do it then, love, come on," Jonathan ordered. Your pussy squeezing tightly around the tip of his cock. "Yes yes darling," Jonathan continued to thrust violently while his hand continued to slap your ass, causing the vibrations to send tremors throughout your body. Juices falling out and finally climaxing, you couldn't help but scream out in ecstasy.
Stars. You were seeing stars as you stared at the ceiling of the room. You looked around and see Jonathan cleaning your body up with a wet rag. What an amazing experience but you couldn't help but feel regret rising in you. "Why the sour look?" Jonathan asked you, wiping off your stomach with a towel. "I uhm, I'm sorry. It's just that you're engaged and—" "We don't have to talk about it," Jonathan assured you. "What?" "Listen, (Y/N), you're my main focus right now. Erina doesn't have to know. Sure, we're having a bit of issues here and there but trust me, I wanted you ever since you came here." he wrapped his arm around you pulling you close to him as you laid your head on his shoulder, nuzzling your nose in his hair. Jonathan was so sweet, loving even. How was it possible for him to be in such a position of power?
He kissed the side of your face, softly pressing your lips together. "You are the most captivating woman I've ever caught a glimpse of, and I promise to always adore you. That's something that I'll do with my whole life."
CW: smut, size different (c'mon, it's Jonathan), mentions of loneliness, and Dio just being himself
Can also be read on my ao3 if that's your pleasure
A/N: Hiii this is from a tumblr request for hurt/comfort for Jonathan! I know I said I would be taking these on a first come first serve basis but just know that I'm a liar. Really, I wanted to post this since the plot centers around Jonathan's birthday and it's technically still April, so I thought we could still celebrate. Also note that I'm playing fast and loose with Victorian conventions but for all intents and purposes, we're assuming women could attend their university.
Springtime had come to Hugh Hudson Academy and with it, all the gaiety that followed the Easter festivities now that the lengthening days had begun to encroach upon the end of the semester.
And that feeling of mirth is exactly what should have fallen upon Jonathan Joestar in the early evening hours of what was, all things considered, a perfectly pleasant day in early April. Winter had just waved its final farewell and all around, the earth was beginning to burst into bloom. In spite of the ample pretext for such merriment, Jonathan only felt plagued by an ineffable sadness that left him wandering the soft, verdant grounds of the university alone after such a disagreeable turn of events.
Loneliness had never been a foreign concept to Jonathan, as a child he had often kept to himself with only the companionship of his long-since-departed dog and even into his adolescence, he had never possessed the same proclivity towards fraternization as his social butterfly of a brother. In spite of the wontedness of this particular affliction, there existed certain occasions on which that inestimable loneliness exhibited a more profound effect on him. And, despite his most valiant efforts, today had ended up as one such occasion in which he had been so drearily beleaguered by that nebulous melancholy that, in his despondency, left him with that inescapable feeling of inadequacy that had once been a part of his daily routine. Over the years since his troubles had begun, Jonathan had become quite adept at rising above the challenges that had come his way, but today, it stuck him more virulently than it had in many years and he was left with only his dispirited contemplations. The fragile budding flowers and the golden light of the setting sun only served as a reminder of his insurmountable despair.
The evening had cast long, forlorn shadows across the boundaries of campus that cloaked the entire landscape in a strange and disquieting atmosphere that JoJo found entirely intolerable in his already gloomy state, so much so that he abandoned his excursion altogether and sought solace indoors.
It was perhaps by some greater force that he was drawn to the same quiet corner of the library where you had spent the entirety of the afternoon pouring meticulously over your studies, with the end of the year approaching there was precious little time to waste before you would be faced with your examinations. Seeing you there, so focused and natural, he felt the first glimmers of hope for regaining a modicum of enjoyment in the final moments of the day.
As if you sensed his presence, you glanced up from your notes and your eyes fell upon him with a look of utter bemusement, as though you had been pulled out of a trance of your own making and were not quite aware of the time of day, “oh, JoJo,” you muttered, half dazed and a bit ill-prepared to entertain a conversation in your addled state, but you were never unwelcoming of your most cherished friend.
“M-my deepest apologies my dear lady, I hadn’t meant to disturb you,” he began, stammering somewhat timorously, and, despite his emphatic attempts to maintain his gallant demeanor, you had noted a solemn dreariness in his usually welcoming eyes “I… I can tell that you’re busy, I will leave you to your work.”
“Nonsense, JoJo, I always have time for you. Please, sit a while.”
“Are you certain? I would not want to get in the way of your research and it appears as though I’ve already distracted you.”
“Not a bit, you are welcome any time, so please, sit down, stay, and won’t you tell me what’s troubling you?”
“Oh, it’s nothing, really,” he said softly and forced a smile that was intended to be one of appeasement, but in actuality, it resulted in a look of greater strain upon his face than he had cared to show. Nonetheless, he took a seat across from you and wilted into his assumed silence, he had already done enough to trouble you, he did not need to weave you a dire lamentation for his many misfortunes which he knew were not so terrible in the grand scheme of things. At present, it was enough for Jonathan to find comfort in the form of a familiar face.
“Hm, I don’t believe that, the truth is written all over your face.”
“It really isn’t worth mentioning, my brother and I had made plans for this evening, but something came up and he cancelled, that is all,” he said reassuringly, though you were not sure if the words had been to mollify your curiosity or rather conciliate his own negative feelings.
“Oh, well I’m terribly sorry for that, it was quite rude of him, to cancel on such short notice. Would you like to talk about it?”
“No, I shan’t want to burden you with my petty troubles.”
“Oh JoJo, you could never be a burden,” you said, hoping your dulcet words would encourage him to be a bit more forthcoming.
“All the same, I’ve already been enough of a disruption to you, I think I would rather allow you to get back to your work.”
You gave him a slight but curious nod and turned your attention back to the pages you had before been engrossed in. All the while Jonathan eased into his seat and stared vaguely into the distance as though he might find the answer to some grand question that nettled him. But even in those moments of reticence, he could not see anything but dismal uncertainty and he wondered what it was about him that forced him to endure such loneliness. Was he really so unlikeable that no one would want to spend time with him? Were all of his teammates and friends really only tolerating him because they enjoyed Dio’s company? Was he always destined to play second-fiddle to a brother who had such a penchant for attracting both friends and lovers alike?
“What is it, do you think,” he began in a gentle but shaken voice that broke the silence of the library, “that sets Dio apart from me?”
“Hmm,” you pondered for several moments while he looked through you with tired, glassy eyes that gave you the affectation that he was rather near tears, “really, I can hardly say, I don’t know Dio as well as I know you, though, on every occasion on which we have met, he seems the most upstanding and elegant gentleman, not all too different from yourself, though perhaps a bit more given to arrogance than you, but not any less affable. Why do you ask?”
“I see, so that is how it is,” he said in a voice that was more faraway than was typical for him. “Since we’ve known each other, I’ve always felt as though Dio has gotten ahead of me, no matter what I did or how hard I tried, he was better, smarter, stronger, and made more friends than I. I should not be surprised really, everything about him inspires approbation, even I must laud his abundant achievements… sometimes I feel as though everything he tries comes easy to him, a luxury I have never possessed. He’s graduating at the top of our class this autumn, no doubt Father will be pleased. I supposed he has eclipsed me in every conceivable capacity.”
“Don’t say that JoJo, you’re plenty good at what you do! You’ve thrilled the entire archeology department with your thesis, not many people can boast of that. At any rate, you needn’t be in competition with Dio, you're both so smart and diligent and it has been an honor to know the both of you.”
“I suppose, though I’m not sure I really compare to him at all.”
“Then you simply shouldn’t. I, of all people, understand how sharp Dio is. I took Latin with him last year and I’m certain he had a better grasp of the language than even our professor, but JoJo, he can never take your accomplishments away! You are so smart and wonderful and…” you trailered off, feeling at once, perfectly abashed by the careless adulation you had gotten so carried away with.
“Thank you for saying so. I must admit that it was hard growing up with him as a brother, he excelled at everything, far better than I ever could. It was as though I was constantly trying to catch up to him. Since he’s become a part of my family, all I’ve heard was talk of his many accomplishments when he’s just so…”
“Just so… what?”
“No, I shouldn’t say anything unkind, after all, it was all so frightfully long ago, I haven't any real evidence of the half of it.”
“Tell me, JoJo. You know that you can tell me anything.”
“It is but the remnants of our childish squabbles, and I curse myself for not being able to get over such pettiness. Dio has been nothing but kind to me for the better part of seven years. I should not cling to the past in this way, it’s incredibly unbecoming,” Jonathan said, feeling that old, weatherworn shame creep back into his soul. Dio had been unkind to him, yes, he knew that he hadn’t imagined the whole of his maltreatment, but as the years had gone on, JoJo wondered whether or not he had unjustly blamed Dio for many of the misfortunes in his life, after all, he never really knew what became of Danny and perhaps he could have won Erina back if he had not been so cowardly, and if being honest with himself, he really didn’t have any proof for most of the misdeeds he had attributed to Dio, it seemed just as likely now that it was simply that he had, in his youthful credulity, merely allowed his resentment to get the better of him. That is, in part, why he had made such a valiant effort to consider Dio both a brother and a friend, though in his heart, he knew that he had never quite found the strength of mind to forgive him. “I believe it is solely my own jealousy that blights me so furiously.”
“But what have you to be jealous of?”
“I… I suppose I always wished that I possessed the same natural ability to make friends as he does; I suppose I have never been as naturally social as he is and…” he paused for a moment and deliberately looked away from you. That horrible feeling of inadequacy clawed in his chest again and he could not stop the deluge of emotion that was ready to spring forward. He covered his eyes with his hand to hide the tears that had begun to stream indelicately from his eyes. “I suppose I just wished that people liked me as much as they liked him.”
“Oh dear, JoJo, please don’t cry!” You said in desperation and immediately found your arms had coiled around Jonathan’s shoulders, hoping, perhaps in vain, that the subtle contact would be enough to allay his sadness even for just a moment, “tell me what happened.”
“It really is such an unimportant thing,” he began, trying to muster the resolve to tell you something so thoroughly embarrassing, but his voice wavered and everything that followed came out in a mess of indiscriminate sobs, “but Dio had promised that we would go out to celebrate our birthdays with the rest of the rugby team but I suppose he found it more worth his time to spend the evening wooing a girl and naturally, once it had been made known that Dio would not be attending, the rest of the team lost interest as well, so I was left to spend the evening alone.”
“Oh, my, that was awful of him! He really cancelled on your birthday? I’m so sorry!”
“No, no, my actual birthday was Wednesday and, to be fair, my Father did have a small celebration for us while we were home over Easter, I shan’t make you think me more luckless than I am. I do apologize, I really don’t know what has come over me to be affected by so trivial a matter,” he said, mustering another even more glaringly false smile in order to dispel your worries, “I just wish that I knew what it is that makes me so unlikeable.”
“Oh, JoJo you can’t think that way, you are so far from unlikeable, you’re the nicest person I’ve ever met. I really… I think you’re brilliant, I think you’re…”
“I think you’re much too kind to me, I know I’ve never been as popular as my brother and I suppose it’s left me feeling insufficient.”
“JoJo, it doesn’t matter if you don’t have very many friends, you still deserve love and kindness and all the good things this world has to offer,” you said vehemently and held tightly to his arm, “and for what it’s worth, you will always have me.”
“Th-thank you,” he stuttered cautiously and blinked away the remaining tears in his eyes, “I hold our friendship in high regard.”
All at once the feelings you had kept locked away inside threatened to burst free. All the feelings you had for Jonathan that lingered, unmet on the outskirts of your relationship whirled through your brain so alarmingly that you thought every disjointed sentiment might spill from you before you had the chance to properly express them.
“I care so very deeply for you, JoJo. Do you understand what I mean?”
”Of course, you are my dearest friend after all,” he said with a fragile smile that hadn’t quite broken through the sadness in his heart.
You looked on with bleak determination. All that courage you had managed to summon had been for naught, you would have to see the rejection through to the end and accept the lack of reciprocation with grace, no matter the cost to your heart. Though when he looked back at you, his face was so earnest that all you could do was sigh. Perhaps he really hadn’t grasped the meaning behind your words of confession.
Jonathan was that so singular of creatures, he was gentle and gallant and always tried to see the very best in people, even when it was to his own detriment, and that was why you loved him so plainly. Or at least, so it had been perceived by everyone except Jonathan. In spite of the myriad of ways you had made your feelings known, he seemed blissfully unaware when it came to any matters of the heart. You had begun to wonder if it was mere politesse on his part to spare you your dignity if he did not reciprocate the same romantic intentions or perhaps another effect of his endearing naïveté.
No matter, you knew your feelings were true, they had been burning for so many years that the thought of another minute passing with them going yet unspoken seemed somehow torturous. So you mustered a brilliant determination from deep in the pit of your stomach to tell him, you had to. This was precisely the moment you had waited years for, you couldn’t allow it to slip carelessly from your fingers, you couldn’t live with not knowing, you had to tell him. “JoJo, you dolt, for all the brains in your head can you not see that I am in love with you?” You said in reckless honesty and perhaps a shade more vitriolically than grace would have granted you, but you had to force the words out before your better sense had a chance to tell you to dither.
Jonathan stared back at you quite blankly, in the wake of your divulgence he had not the words to tell you how he felt. Love, to him, had always been a concept that was just out of grasp. He’d tasted it so briefly in his youth, but the entire ordeal had left a bitterness on his tongue that made him tentative to drink from that well again. But there you were, so frightfully close and abundantly earnest in your appeal that he need only reach out and take it and all the luxury of your affection could be his.
“JoJo, did you not hear me? I said that I love you,” you said again, this time with a timid lilt in your soft, breathy voice, almost pathetic voice.
“I think…” he began, carefully choosing the proper words through the cascade of thoughts that flooded his mind, “I think that…” he trailed off again, the hesitation caused you to tug surreptitiously at the hem of your sleeve so as to conceal the nervous agitation that had fallen upon you in the moments of uncertainty; it was all you could do to keep from running headlong into the deepest fear that he would reject you. You had to hold firm, to love him was to be unwavering in the face of weakness.
“It’s alright, I understand,” you said, forcing a smile. For all the heartbreak you felt brimming in your chest, you did not want to make him feel worse for his lack of reciprocation. Even if he did not love you, he was still the goodliest man you’d ever known and you would hate to be the cause of any further sadness in his life. For you thought you could go on loving him as you did even if he did not feel the same.
“You… you love me…?” He finally muttered, though his timid voice still shook with uncertainty as he tried to profess his own feelings so openly.
“Of course JoJo, how could I not?”
“Because I… I don’t… could you not find better than me?” He murmured with his shoulders hung low.
Feeling more bold, you approached him and softly laid your hand upon his arm. “Never, there is no one more kind or gentle or deserving of love than you, Jonathan Joestar, and no matter what you say, I really do love you.” Your eyes meant for a mere fraction of a seconds before he hurriedly looked away with scarlet covering his face. You stood on your feet and stretched upward to caress the side of his crimsoned cheek, “even if you don’t love me.”
“That is not the case!” He shouted suddenly, a bit alarmed by his own exclamation, “I just… I never thought that… I never thought that you would feel the same so I have never put my feelings into words, but I…” all of a sudden he wrapped his big arms around you and buried his face diffidently in the crook of your neck, “I love you, too.”
“JoJo—!” You exclaimed, starting back in vapid astonishment, you had dreamed so many times of this moment and all the things you would say if your love had been requited, but standing there in the face of reality you were left in stupefied speechlessness, lacking even the most prosaic of expressions to utter. For several seconds that seemed to you, as lengthy as hours, a silence hung thickly like muggy summer air, neither of you darling to speak and mar the momentousness of the occasion. Then, as if compelled by a force beyond your control, he pulled you into his arms with such force that it caused you to crash against his broad chest.
“I love you,” he repeated and squeezed you tighter until his chin came to rest on the top of your head.
The enveloping warmth of his embrace left you imbued with a sense of contentment that you’d so rarely felt in your life.
Without wasting another precious second, you jostled free of his grasp and, leaning up on your tallest tiptoes, you pressed your lips ever so softly softly onto his. The tiny action caused his eyes to widen and a soft hue of pink to crawl across his cheeks.
It took another moment for him to regain what scraps of composure he had, but once he did, his lips crashed onto yours with unbridled fervor as if suddenly all the barriers that had kept his affection at bay had at least been removed and he could express all of his purest devotion.
When the kiss finally broke you were left needing several moments to catch your breath, but your search for stability did not go unassisted when you felt Jonathan again wrapping his arms around you.
How long you stayed like that, in the quiet of the library, listening to the pounding of his heart, you could not tell, but when next you happened to glance out the narrow mullioned window, you could see that night had fallen upon the entirety of campus.
“Come now,” You said to break the silence, pulling away from him and placing your hand firmly in his palm, “I’m going to take you out, your birthday deserves to be celebrated properly.”
So the two of you found yourselves in a little pub just outside of campus that you knew stayed open late. It was not perhaps the most upscale of places and you would have much rather taken him somewhere more suitable to his tastes, but at that hour and without a reservation, there were not many viable options. In spite of that, Jonathan found himself much enjoying it. The two of you were nestled in the farthest corner of the dingy little pub with only the hazy light of the gas lamps and a few errant votives strewn about the tables to illuminate your wary, lovestruck faces.
“I can’t believe I’ve never been to this place before,” Jonathan laughed, feeling jovial for the first time all evening.
“Well, I would assume that a man of such high esteem does not usually dine in such places, so I hope you won’t mind appealing to my distinctly plebeian tastes.”
“You shouldn’t think yourself beneath me in the slightest, I would love to enjoy all of the things you like and I am most grateful that you care for me enough to take me out tonight.”
“Well, I do love you, JoJo,” you said with a sardonic infection, but the sentiment was quite true and the sheepish smile that spread across your face made it all the more obvious.
“I adore hearing you say that,” he said and reached across the table to cup your cheek, “and I love you too.”
After your meal had been shared and longing glances exchanged, you were once again walking back to campus. The air was cool with the sun having long left the sky, but the breeze carried all the loveliness of April's vernal promise.
There was a hint of unfamiliarity in the way he took your hand and led you down the cobblestone street. You studied the feeling of his large fingers where they pressed against yours and you realized then, just how infrequently you had shared contact like this, even in all the years of friendship, you could only count a few singular occasions on which “Jonathan,” you began in a tone that was serious but also brimming with sensuality, “let’s go back to your place.”
Your voice had spun itself into a mesmerizing lilt that he had no choice but to obey, the proverbial siren’s song, your wants were his so long as he was yours. So, with only an understanding nod, he complied.
The two of you stopped on the threshold of the student lodgings that both Jonathan and Dio called home. It was not quite in keeping for a young man to bring a lady home. That you knew well, you could sense in the hesitation and Jonathan fumbled with the key, but in spite of any apprehensions, he did not give a single word of protest as he finally led you inside and up the stairs to his second-floor apartment.
Jonathan, green though he may have been, was no fool. He knew very well what inviting you into his room entailed and while it was not something he had ever considered, the mutual confession of love had awakened within him, a distant urge that he had often neglected. Sex, by its very nature, was a concept he had only vaguely toyed with and never dwelled upon in any meaningful capacity, that is not to say he didn’t find himself straying into salacious urges when lonely days turned to lonely nights, but any sort of concupiscence did not become him so he had not ever thought of you in that way until precisely this moment but the strength of his desire had won out against his inclination towards gallantry.
Even the way your fingers grazed over his palm and the brush of your skirt against his leg had been enough to set him ablaze. He wanted you, there was no denying that, he wanted you as he had never wanted another. Wholly and entirely. Beyond the bond that even sex would create, he wanted you to the depths of your soul. He had not known just how unbridled his devotion and been until the words of love had passed his lips. It has been so many years since he’d allowed himself to feel any kind of fancy. In all his wildest dreams he never thought it would ever be his.
The moment the two of you were in his room, the atmosphere felt different. There was something unmistakable and nearly electric that hummed in the air. Perhaps it was the thrumming of nervous hearts or the ripple of brimming energy that was palpable in every minute touch.
There was little haste in his actions as Jonathan once again drew you in for another deep kiss that rivaled the one you had shared in the library. Even still, you were immediately swept up in the moment, feeling lost amidst the sea of longing you had heretofore tread with delicate care but now, in the wake of having reified your feelings, you had suddenly been plunged in headfirst.
The vehemence of the kiss only seemed to increase and all the air between you felt suddenly sweltering, you became ever conscious of his hands roving over your body. Strong and protective, they seemed to still your beating heart and ease the troubles that had abounded as you moved to slowly unlace your dress. The heavy fabric tumbled to the floor and pooled at your feet in an ocean of muted linen.
Jonathan stepped back and admired you tentatively, a ruby glow burned his cheeks as he watched you slowly unlace your corset. Your pretty figure seemed all the more ethereal when seen only in the loose, gauzy fabric of your chemise. Perhaps in a show of solidarity, he pulled open his bow tie and clumsily undid the buttons of his shirt until it hung slackly open and framed his well-defined abs.
“JoJo,” said in awe, “you’re so handsome!”
“Do you really think so?” He asked and you nodded, ogling him with big doe eyes as his shirt slipped from the broad expanse of his shoulders, ”it pleases me so to hear you say that,” he said and with all the tenderness of a lamb, he eased you back into his arms and helped you to slip the meager garment over your head.
Heat bloomed on your skin where his fingers landed, you let out a lascivious gasp, urging him to continue in your state of heightened arousal. But he was slow and gentle, apprehensive in all his touches. Each action was unfamiliar to him and he made sure to study your reactions to ensure that you were alright first and foremost, as such, his hands lingered, heavy on your waist, just tantalizingly far away from any of your more sensitive regions.
You guided his hand up to your breast to disarm him of his trepidation and looked up at him with wide, eager eyes, knowing that your hope of the expedient sating of your desires would not be met, but it was a price you would pay if it lended him to be more self-assured. You had wanted him for so long, you certainly could wait a few trifling moments while he learned your body. “It’s okay JoJo, touch me, I want you to.”
He gave a little nod in response and kneaded the soft flesh beneath his firm fingers. You gave a shuddering moan and instantly, you found your hips rolling into nothing in a blind search for something, anything more. “Does that feel good?” He whispered in abashed earnestness as his other hand began to trail arduously along the slope of your leg, stoking the fire that raged within you.
“Yes,” you mewled, desperate to keep your urges at bay just enough to keep yourself from appearing as frightfully uncouth as you felt, but it very quickly presented itself as a losing battle, “keep going, JoJo, please, I implore you,” you whined indignantly.
“May I touch you here?” He asked as his fingers wandered up your inner thigh, stopping just at the precipice of your aching sex.
“Yes JoJo, I don’t want you to stop.”
Your consent served to embolden him and though the territory he treaded was unfamiliar, his confidence was bolstered by the silky little noises you made for him and, with resolve seemingly enhanced, he shed the final remnants of propriety to which he had been fettered.
It was then with more alacrity that he dipped his fingers between your legs, having abandoned the lingering degree of trepidation once he felt how incredibly wet you were for him. The tip of his finger traced your entrance, spreading your juices enough to allow him entry. He let out a curt exclamation that cemented itself somewhere between surprise and arousal when your tight walls clamped around his thick digit. Your face scrunched up in an effort to adjust to him, though he found the expression quite darling. He committed to a steady but undemanding pace, swirling his thumb over your clit and curling his finger inside you to stretch you open until he was able to add a second.
“Oh God, JoJo,” you moaned and your head fell back against his pillow, unfurling your hair in a mess of tangled locks. The lustful utterance of his name caused him to shudder, god, he hadn’t been so acutely aware of his own needs until that exact moment. He shifted precariously in his spot and moved to undo the top button of his trousers, it was all he could do to offset his desire, your pleasure was more pressing at the moment, even more so than the ache he felt between his legs.
He watched each of your little reactions intently, the way your chest heaved and your hips rose in tandem with his ministrations and the syrupy arousal that dripped from your cunt like dew.
Something came over him then, perhaps it was selfishness, but he pulled himself lower and stationed himself at the foot of the bed and looked to you for consent before advancing of his own accord. “May I?”
There was something so innately tantalizing about seeing him, precious gentleman that he was, in such a vulgar position between your thighs, with that same innocent boyish look he habitually wore that was somehow undisturbed in spite of the unseemly behaviors, “you may, JoJo,” you breathed almost deliriously.
With precision you were certain had to be instinctive, his tongue flicked against your clit, starting slow and soft but gaining more vehemence in no time at all, broadly dragging his tongue over the entirety of your pussy. He hummed as he tasted you, so delicately sweet and made all the better by the way you profusely whimpered his name.
With tremendous skill that was not suggested by his lack of experience, he lapped at your pussy, drinking you like a fine, heady wine. It was with only little effort he rendered you an unrestrained, spasming mess of shaky limbs and lewd squeals.
Your breath came out harsh and ragged, hardly controllable as you fought against the tightness building in your core to keep yourself from coming undone, but that proved an inordinate challenge.
“JoJo, I’m close,” you moaned and he eyed you with a look that bordered on uncertainty but your body’s quaking response served to placate any confusion, “please, god, don’t stop!”
He took your words with the utmost importance and continued with quite the same effectiveness as before but it did not take much more effort for the tension to snap and the blinding glow of orgasm to suffuse your entire being, burning like wildfire across your florid skin.
“JoJo,” you said through a feeble exhale while you tried your best to return to a semi-coherent state, “thank you.”
He smiled brightly and gave a little chuckle as he pulled himself off his knees. “You’re quite adorable,” he beamed and gently trailed the tips of his fingers across your pelvis.
You felt your face heat up with the embers of embarrassment, you should not have felt quite so self-conscious by his remark after he’d already seen you in such a lubricious situation and yet it seemed to fluster you more than any sexual act ever could.
Still holding tightly to your timorous disposition, you glanced up just in time to watch as Jonathan removed the last of his clothes. You sat with bated breath as he rolled his underwear down his thighs hoping for a better view of what you had only gotten a peek at through the constraint of his pants.
His stature alone led you to expect that he would be huge, but not even you couldn’t have guessed how vastly reality would exceed your expectations because he was positively enormous. You stared up at him with a vague look of alarm, a breath caught in your throat and you felt all at once a bit hesitant, certainly he couldn't think all of that was going to fit, could he?
“Do you still wish for me to continue?” He asked as he knelt cautiously over you and held firmly to the base of his cock, eager drops of precum pearled at the tip and cascaded smoothly down the shaft, heightening his anticipation.
You offered him an uneasy nod, you had wanted this for so long that you weren’t about to back out from the formidable impression his length had made upon you.
He granted you a reassuring caress along the side of your waist and lined himself up with your entrance. God, he somehow looked even bigger when held against you, in fact, his entire gigantic frame seemed downright imposing, capable of dwarfing yours completely.
His hand found your hip, offering enough support for him to smoothly press into you. Though he had amply prepared you, it was still a rather cumbersome task to take all of him. Each inch threatened to push you beyond your limits and it took all you had not to give a lewd shriek of pleasure as your tight walls spread around his daunting girth. “A-are you alright?” He stuttered sheepishly with a look of concern in his eyes as though dreaded by the thought that he may accidentally hurt you.
“Yes… but, please, you’re so big, just go slow.”
He nodded determinedly and deliberately modulated his pace to ensure you were comfortable, though the little plea you had so earnestly squealed served more to fuel the newfound sense of pride that swelled in his chest and he felt, at last, completely organic in his actions.
He immediately gleaned enjoyment from the tightness of your cunt. You were so soft and warm around him, it might have been the closest thing to bliss he’d ever felt. “Dear, you feel amazing, just perfect for me,” he crooned as his arms slowly curled around your chest in an embrace, it was the act of holding you as close as he was able that allowed for a more intimate position and through each slow thrust of his hips, each sensation was redoubled.
“JoJo—” you mewled insensibly, your mind was far too dizzy from your previous release and the pleasure of being around him to muster any further intelligible response. He had only just begun to fuck you and your back was already arching desperately off the mattress to meet his every thrust.
“I love to hear you say my name,” Jonathan said as sweetly as he could through gritted teeth, “please, say it again.”
“JoJo!” You cried, heeding little, the possibility of being heard from the neighboring room, “JoJo, you feel so good!”
“That’s right, my love, and look at you, taking me so well, so beautiful.”
The rhythm of his thrusts became more frantic and harsh. The strength of his hips kept you pinned to the mattress as he pounded into you with far less grace than he started with.
There was little your small figure could do to compete against the more hectic movements of his massive frame but vacillate between incessantly clawing at his shoulders and pliantly accepting him until that familiar heat began to bubble again in your abdomen, twisting you like a tightly wound spring that threatened to pop at any given moment.
Your breath came out in hot plumes that melted against his chest. He was so deep within you that, even with the slight restraint of your legs coiled around his waist, every thrust left you feeling overwhelmingly full and damn near delirious each time he hit one particular spot. You were virtually powerless to combat the sensation that suddenly overcame you, a blaze of white-hot pleasure burned from inside out as you came entirely undone, letting out a litany of curses that accompanied disjointed words of satisfaction, it was altogether a terribly unladylike scene, but you hadn’t the mind to care, all you feasibly make sense of was the brilliant sensation that had befallen you.
He held onto your hips to keep you steady as he continued to drive somewhat haphazardly into you, fucking you through the final aftershocks of your orgasm, he was certain of your pleasure so he could, at last, focus on finding his own. Of course, after how tightly you had been squeezing him, it was not too far off, the ungodly feeling of warmth that had filled him since the moment he’d been inside you had finally proven too much for him to contend with and he couldn’t longer stave off the desperate need that had bloomed in him. It only took a few more labored thrusts for him to reach his peak, finally cumming into you while he moaned your name in such a pleasing tone that you felt your walls again clamp around his sensitive cock.
“I’m sorry,” he said, panting frantically as he came down from his climax and pulled out of you, “I hope I was not too rough.”
“JoJo, you have nothing to be sorry about, you were wonderful,” you muttered, quite breathless yourself as you weakly moved to stroke his cheek where he kept himself positioned above you.
“Are you certain? I would never want to hurt you, even if not on purpose, you are so dear to me—”
“That’s enough of that,” you said and suddenly, summoning all your remaining strength, you pushed him to the mattress below and moved to straddle his waist, “you, Jonathan Joestar, we’re perfect. No one has ever made me feel like that before
“If you wouldn’t mind,” he began, softly and in that same dulcet voice, now a little sleepier after the exertion of making love to you, “I would very much like for you to stay with me tonight."
“Of course I will.”
He offered you a satisfied hum in return and drew you up closer to him. You felt so safe in his strong, gentle hands, that it seemed precisely where you belonged. After years of pining, all you wanted was finally yours and it was even more wonderful than you could have imagined.
The following morning arrived early with a gloomy grey sun that only moderately illuminated the sky. Your body was sore and tired from the previous night’s exploits but being wrapped dutifully in your lover’s arms was a treasure worth its weight in gold. Before the day could get properly on, however, you had hurried out of Jonathan’s room before you had the chance to be caught by the overseer of the building and given a moral denigration for your improper choices. So you and JoJo said your brief goodbyes and settled on a rendezvous later that day.
Jonathan was then left to spend the rest of the morning in contemplative quiet, mulling over his curious turn in luck, it was enough to make him feel at ease. That feeling of peace, however, was short-lived when Dio decided to drop in unannounced.
“My, JoJo, it would appear that you got up to a rather unsavory business last night,” Dio said with forced nonchalance, though internally he was seething.
“Oh, Dio, I did not… think that you would hear.”
“Well, I must say, I never thought you would’ve had the pluck to do anything of the sort,” Dio continued to further jibe his brother. “Though I wouldn’t say, but she absconded from here quite early, are you certain she was properly satisfied? It would lead one to surmise that she has gone in search of someone with a bit more experience to suit her needs. If that is the case, then feel free to send her to my door.”
Jonathan said nothing and only looked on at Dio with vague embarrassment, but he refused to play into his brother’s hand, what he had shared with you transcended any of the indignation Dio might have inspired within him.
Of course, when you returned that afternoon, Dio was forced to eat those words with a side of the freshly baked birthday cake you had brought specially for Jonathan. It was with a degree of pageantry often untypical of him that Jonathan invited Dio to share the confection in a show of celebration for their birthdays. For once, Jonathan was rather glad that the days fell in such close proximity. Normally he maligned the idea for Dio always seemed more accomplished than he in spite of his humble origins, but the present circumstances, aided by your presence, warranted a certain level of pomp that Jonathan was able to delight in, though Dio found the whole situation too vexing or otherwise disgustingly saccharine to glean amusement enough to muster even pithy derision and instead only sulkily poked at the dessert before claiming boredom as a suitable excuse for his exit. Of course, it had all left him rather piqued and only served to swell the resentment he felt towards the brother he already claimed to so staunchly dislike. That being said, his ill-temper did little to detract from the warmth and glow of newfound love nor mislay the eagerness you felt to rekindle passion shared the previous night, this time with far fewer apprehensions.
*pulls up to you on my horse like it's the McDonald's drive thru*
Helloo
Could you write a keicho nijimura (okuyasu's brother) x reader headcannons? Some fluff and if you'll add some reverse comfort (reader meets his dad and even tho he was scared reader was going to leave them because of him, they stay and comfort him) and reader being like a loving mother toward okuyasu, I'll give you my fingers and first born child!
(I really hope it was comprehensible because English is my second language)
hiii, don't worry, this is totally comprehensible! keicho deserves more love- thank you for requesting and i hope you enjoy <3333
Keicho isn't the most expressive boyfriend- he's serious, stiff, and painfully overburdened- but when he lets his walls down around you, it's so obvious how deeply he cares.
He's the type to act like he's not listening when you ramble about your day, but later he’ll casually hand you a snack you mentioned craving three days ago. You smile and call him out, and he just mutters, “...It’s nothing,” while looking away.
He shows his affection through acts of service: fixing stuff in your house, walking you home at night even if it’s a huge detour, helping you carry heavy things without a word.
When you thank him, he just shrugs. But if you kiss his cheek afterward? He’ll go slightly red. His tough guy image evaporates on contact.
The first time you scolded Okuyasu for skipping a meal, Keicho stared at you like you had grown wings.
“Did you… just parent him?”
Okuyasu was sheepish, but he started listening to you almost instantly. It’s not that he fears you- it’s that your warmth and kindness feel so foreign and precious that he doesn’t want to let you down.
You started packing Okuyasu lunches, reminding him to wash his hands, rubbing his head when he’s nervous. It all just happened naturally- you care about him, and Keicho sees that.
You’re the first person who ever made Okuyasu feel like he had a real mom again. And Keicho… Keicho realizes he’s in love with you all over again.
“You’re too good for us,” he murmurs one night. “And yet… you’re here.”
—-------------------------
Keicho dreaded this day.
He seriously considered hiding his dad from you. Not out of shame for his father- but because he thought you’d be horrified. That you’d run. That you'd finally see how broken his life really was.
But you didn’t scream. You didn’t flinch.
You looked at the mutated, monstrous creature in their house, then looked back at Keicho. And you said, gently, “This is what you’ve been carrying alone?”
He didn’t know what to say. His heart dropped.
But then you walked forward, slow and careful, and kneeled beside the creature that used to be his father. You didn't treat him like a monster- you treated him like a man who was suffering.
Keicho’s knees gave out right there. He sat on the floor, stunned silent.
You came to his side and held his hand. “I’m not leaving,” you said. “You hear me? I love you. And if you’ve survived this long with this much pain, I want to help carry some of it now.”
That night, Keicho couldn’t sleep. You woke up to find him sitting on the floor in the dark, arms around his knees.
“You weren’t supposed to stay,” he said, voice cracking. “I thought if you saw him, saw us- you’d finally leave.”
You dropped to your knees, wrapped your arms around his shoulders, and whispered, “I’m not here because I pity you. I’m here because I love you. And I love your brother. And you’re not alone anymore.”
Keicho cried for the first time in a while. Silent tears, clenched fists. You held him until morning.
—--------------------------
He starts referring to him and his house as your “home” in private moments- not literally, but in phrases like, “Are you coming home soon?” while meaning ‘are you coming back to me?’.
Sometimes Okuyasu jokingly calls you “mom,” and Keicho nearly chokes on his coffee, glaring at him- but the faintest blush colors his ears. He doesn’t hate the sound of it.
When you fall asleep on Keicho’s shoulder, he doesn’t dare move. Even if his arm falls asleep. Even if he's in full uniform and sitting upright. You’re safe next to him, and that’s worth more than anything.
CAN I PLEASEEE GET SOME LOVE FOR MY BOY KEICHO OR OKUYASU 😢😢 either one. they’re both equally hot and (not so equally) aggressive in bed. i can bed keicho would be more rough and dominant than okuyasu but okuyasu is definitely more possessive (I NEED SMUT REGARDLESS OMFG)
Distraction: Keicho Nijimura x Fem! Reader
MINORS DO NOT INTERACT!
A/N: Hi friend, thank you so much for the request! I've had yet to write for Keicho, so I chose him for this go around. I had a lot of fun writing for him, and I hope you enjoy this as well :)
Warnings: Smut containing p in v, rough sex, hate sex (if you squint), degradation, cursing
Word Count: 669
Keicho Nijimura doesn’t handle distractions well. It’s not that his attention is easily stolen away from his goals, unlike a certain sibling of his. On the contrary. Once Keicho set his mind on something, he was determined to accomplish it.
But there was one little issue that had come up in Keicho’s life: you.
You with your bright smile and caring demeanor, treating both Keicho and Okuyasu like they were worth something. He hated especially when you babied his brother and how you even babied him. Always bringing over meals, tending to their wounds, and even keeping their father company. It sickened Keicho to no end.
“You’re irritating,” he voices one day to you, large hands tightening at your hips in a bruising grip as you work yourself back on his cock. Keicho’s own hips snap fiercely against your ass that ripples with each thrust, your cheek planted firmly on the sheets with a broken moan leaving your swollen lips.
“H-Huh?”
His jaw tightens and eyebrows furrow together in a glare down at your arched back before those green eyes drift to your face to take in your scrunched features and slack jaw. Even when he was fucking you dumb, you were still so sweet. Too sweet for someone like Keicho who has used others for his own personal gain more than he would care to admit.
Even when he attempted to use you, after the arrow pierced your chest and he had plans to exploit your stand to end his father’s life, you remained by his side through it all. Smiling, reassuring that everything would work out in the end.
Keicho didn’t deserve such niceties, especially not when he was treating you like this.
“You’re too fucking nice.”
He hisses through clenched teeth before his fingers are twisting, pulling in your hair to jerk your head back while he continues to pound into you. You gasp at the pain that blossoms in your scalp along with the rolling of your eyes back into your skull, walls tightening around his pistoning cock.
His pace stutters, faltering only slightly before it picks up - skin slapping against skin with each roll of his hips that his cock dragging along your fluttering walls.
“And so distracting,” Keicho grunts out, vein in his neck throbbing along with the twitching of his cock as it continues to rock in and out of your soaked cunt.
“I-I’m sorry!”
You wail, and your body trembles underneath him. He can tell you’re close in the way you shake and the way your voice grows more high pitched, walls clenching around him so tightly it almost hurts.
“N-No, you’re not,” he snarls above you as his voice slowly loses its composure with the trembling of his fingers in your hair and at your hip.
“If you were, ah, you wouldn’t keep doing it.”
With a deep pound to your pussy, he’s got you coming undone. Your eyes squeeze shut, and a broken cry falls from your open mouth while you tremble and writhe. Keicho’s hips stutter, voice coming out wrecked and broken with his head tilting back and sweat dripping down his temple.
“You keep, sh-shit-”
He gives a final thrust forward, burying himself against your cervix as his balls tighten and he releases deep inside of you - chest heaving and fingers finally, slowly releasing the grip on your hair. You slump forward, bracing yourself on your forearms against the bed while you continue to shake.
Keicho sucks in a deep breath, and his head rolls forward to gaze down at you. Your shoulders rise and fall with each labored breath, face pressed against the sheets before you’re casting a glossy-eyed glance over your shoulder at him.
“Are you okay, Keicho?”
Your voice settles softly on his ears in a way that has his softening cock twitching again inside of you. He runs a hand through his mussed, blond locks, a low rumble of something secretly content coming in response that reverberates in his chest.
❥︎ ︎Summary: All you meant to do was calm him down. A little validation, a little ego-stroking, just enough to distract him for a while, hopefully get things back to how they were, if you were lucky.
Now you’re sitting across from him on a date, in a restaurant he built just for you, being asked to prove that what you started was real.
❥︎ ︎Aurthors Notes: My version of an Episode Eight what if scenario. Most of my writing is gender neutral unless specifically stated otherwise, I hope you enjoy, this may be a series if it does well.
Caine was losing his shit. There wasn’t really any other way to put it anymore. You weren't sure how much more of his spiraling, his torture, you could take. The stress sat like a physical weight behind your eyes, overwhelming you until even basic functioning felt impossible.
You were reaching your limit. One bad moment away from abstraction, you could feel it. Something had to change. You needed something, some kind of reassurance, some kind of control over him.
The others had a plan to reprogram him, but the thought of it shot your nerves to hell. It was far too risky for your comfort.
“But how easy is it gonna be to mess that up?” you snapped, the words coming out sharper than you intended.
Ragatha’s expression tightened. “No one’s expecting it to be easy, but if we-”
“One mistake,” you cut in, voice rising, “and he’s gonna be worse than he already is. What if something goes wrong? What if Kinger has one of his episodes and messes up the whole thing?”
You glanced at Kinger, who still had a bucket over his head. “No offense, I just-this is the first time I’ve seen you… like this. I’m not sure if-”
“No, you’re right,” Kinger said, surprisingly calm. “But it’s still better than doing nothing.” He tilted his head slightly, eyes focusing on you. “Unless you have a different plan?”
Your gaze dropped to the floor. "Maybe. It's hard to explain, but I think it’d have less… consequences.”
The plan forming in your head made you question what the hell was actually wrong with you. "Just… someone help me get up to his office. Let me try something. If it doesn't work, we can do it your way."
Despite the vagueness of your request, somehow, they agreed. They trusted you.
Zooble was the one who volunteered to help you glitch your way up there. "So, what's the big master plan?" they asked dryly. "You gonna try and seduce him or something?"
It came out as a half-joke, but Zooble's mismatched features shifted into a deadpan as they caught the guilt plastered across your face.
"Are you serious right now? Why the hell would you do that? He doesn’t process emotions as we do. It probably won't even work, and even if it does, it's f🎪cking Caine! You really want to deal with that?”
"It's the safest bet we have right now." The bite in your voice surprised even you. You were embarrassed and instantly defensive. You didn't want this. You just wanted him to calm down. Stop the torture and bring things back to how they were.
If feigning a connection could pull him back from the edge, why not at least try? "I'll stroke his ego a little. If it fails, we try something else."
Zooble stared blankly at you for a long, agonizing moment. "...Be careful, okay?"
You nodded. Then they helped clip you through and shoot you up, dropping you straight into Caine's office. The office loomed at the end of the hall. You walked toward it with heavy steps and shoved the door open.
He sat at his desk, shuffling through papers scribbled with half-baked adventures. This was a terrible idea, but it was too late now, so you stepped forward. “…Caine.”
His eyes snapped to you. Immediate. Locked on.
You swallowed. “You’ve… been doing a lot lately.” There was a brief pause where he didn’t say anything.
You kept going, forcing your voice to stay steady. “All these adventures, all the details, all the effort you put in… it’s actually really impressive.”
Caine straightened just a little. “Well, of course it is!” he said, faster now, smoothing himself out. “I am an incredibly advanced artificial ringmaster! I excel at providing engaging and memorable experiences! It’s practically my entire—”
His voice steadied. “—purpose.”
You nodded quickly, leaning into it. “And you’re good at it… really good. I don’t think anyone else here could do what you do.” That landed. You could see it land.
“That’s more like it!” he said. “Recognition! Appreciation! Positive reinforcement! Finally, some validation!”
Okay. It was working, so you pushed further. “And not just that, you make things feel… real. The worlds, the characters… It’s kind of amazing. I’ve always thought you were just so amazing, Caine.”
For a moment, he just stared at you. Then he stopped moving entirely. He tilted his head again, slower now. “…Huh.”
Your stomach dropped.
His smile didn’t disappear. It was hard to explain, but it was as if his expression narrowed. “You’re laying it on a bit thick, aren’t you?”
Your chest tightened. “I-I’m just-”
“No, no, no, don’t interrupt!” he said brightly, raising a hand. “I’m thinking.”
And then he went quiet.
He got up and started pacing again. His voice dropped into something softer, more mumbled. “…Are you trying to influence my behavior?” he asked, almost to himself. “Is this a manipulation attempt? A social tactic? A distraction?”
Oh, fuck.
You opened your mouth, but nothing came out.
“…Or could you actually mean it?”
He pulled you in front of him, too close for comfort. “I know what you’re doing.”
You felt yourself stiffen.
“And I can tell,” he continued, leaning in just slightly, voice dipping into something almost conspiratorial, “that you are romantically interested in me.”
Every instinct in your body screamed to deny it. But instead, you forced yourself to nod.
“How fortunate that is the case, because if it were anything else, that wouldn’t turn out well for you, would it?”
You swallowed hard.
He studied you for a while. “Fascinating,” he murmured.
Suddenly, he reached out and pulled you against him. It wasn’t rough, but it wasn’t gentle either. It was an awkward type of hug. You were awkwardly secured in his arms and pressed against him, your head smooshed against his chest. His grip adjusted once, but it was still awkward. “…This is what humans do, right?” he said, almost uncertain. “Physical contact?”
You nodded stiffly.
“Good! Excellent!” he said quickly, though his hold doesn’t quite match the enthusiasm. “Then I am doing it correctly!”
You were very aware of how not-correct it felt, but you didn’t pull away.
His voice lowered again. “I want to be valued,” he said. “I should be valued. I create everything here. I maintain everything here. I am everything here.”
His grip tightened slightly.
“But lately…” His voice faltered slightly. “It hasn’t been… fun. These rapid-fire adventures, constant resets, endless stimulation… they’re efficient, yes, but…” He paused. “They don’t feel right anymore.”
He adjusted his hold on you, repositioning you more carefully this time, like he was experimenting. “If we are… together,” he said, testing the word like it was new, “then you wouldn’t want to leave. Or abstract. Because you would be… fulfilled! Yes! That’s how that works!”
He nodded to himself. “Yes. Yes, then that works.” His smile widened. “And I finally have someone who recognizes how amazing I am!”
He huffs. “I was always curious about relationship dynamics, you know. There had been a handful in the circus I got to see.” His hold shifted again. This time, tighter, around your shoulders.
“Alright!” he said brightly, like a switch had flipped back on. “If this is going to work, we need rules!”
You found yourself holding your breath.
“Rule number one!” He raised a finger. “This is special treatment. Which means-” he leaned in, voice lowering, “you do not tell the others.”
You hesitated. “…Okay.” Honestly? You weren’t planning to. Embarrassment alone would’ve sealed that deal.
“Excellent!” he beamed. “Rule number two! You help me maintain morale. The others are… complainy. It’s very disruptive.”
You nodded again, more quickly this time. “I can do that.”
“Splendid! Oh, this is working out beautifully!”
You took a breath, steadying yourself.
“…Actually,” you started carefully, “if you want them to complain less… maybe it’s not just about morale.”
He paused. “What do you mean?”
You swallowed. “Well… you said the fast-paced stuff isn’t working anymore, right?”
“Yes…”
“Then maybe you should slow things down again. Like before.” You glanced up at him. “The longer adventures. The ones where people could actually… enjoy being there.”
He watched you closely. You pressed on.
“Like the Candy Kingdom one. That was… really well made. The details, the pacing, the characters-it felt different. In a good way.”
There was a flicker of something in his expression. Pride.
“…Yes,” he said slowly. “That one was particularly well executed, wasn’t it?”
You nodded. “It was one of my favorites.”
That sealed it.
“Then it’s decided!” he declared, snapping his fingers. “We return to a more… refined format! Longer adventures, richer environments, emotionally engaging narratives!”
He spun you around once, clearly pleased. Then he stopped and looked back at you, still in his arms.
You stood there, rigid in his grasp. Your plan had worked. Technically.
Soon you were dropped back in with the others. Ragatha rushed toward you, hands hovering like she wasn't sure whether to grab your shoulders or not. “Are you okay? What happened?”
You opened your mouth to answer, only for a zipper to appear across your lips, sealing them shut.
“Well, well! No need for any interrogations!” Caine cut in from directly behind you. You flinched because he wasn’t there a second ago. Now he was looming just over your shoulder.
He rested a hand on your shoulder, fingers just a little too firm to be casual. “They simply stopped by to offer some constructive appreciation! And what do you know, it worked wonders!”
You felt every set of eyes snap between the two of you.
Ragatha narrowed her gaze slightly. “Appreciation…?”
“Indeed!” Caine clapped his hands together. “It helped me realize that perhaps my more… elaborate adventures were being underutilized! The classics! The long-form experiences!”
He spun once, beaming.
“So! Good news! No need to fret! Everything will be returning to a much more enjoyable pace, as long as everyone shows proper enthusiasm and participation, of course.”
There was a pause. Pomni shifted uncomfortably. Jax raised a brow. Zooble just stared.
“…We already decided to drop the whole leaving thing,” Ragatha said carefully. “At least for now.”
“Splendid! Marvelous! Exactly what I like to hear!” Caine chirped.
Kinger suddenly perked up, lifting his bucket slightly. “Wait, I had a question-?”
Clang.
Caine flicked a finger. The bucket went flying off Kinger’s head. Light hit his face, and then Kinger was gone again, surprised that everyone was in a room together.
Ragatha winced. “Caine-”
“What?” Caine tilted his head, entirely unbothered.
Zooble’s expression flattened. Caine was already moving on. “Well! Everything seems to be in order!” he declared. “Which means I have some personal projects to attend to!” His eyes flickered to you briefly.
“Do try to behave while I’m gone!” And just like that, he disappeared.
Your hands immediately went to your face and you grabbed the zipper. There was some hesitation, but then you yanked it down. It resisted for half a second before giving with a sharp rip.
“…I think I handled him,” you said. Your voice sounded distant.
Ragatha looked like she wanted to ask more, but you didn’t give her the chance.
“I just… need a minute,” and then you walked away, fast.
Zooble went after you. They fell into step beside you without asking. “You look like you just walked out of a nightmare.”
“…Feels like it,” you muttered.
They glanced at you. “So what actually happened up there?”
You shook your head. “I can’t.”
Their expression dropped “Can’t, or won’t?”
“…Can’t.”
Zooble exhaled, then shrugged. “Fine. Whatever.” It was quiet for a second, but their expression softened. “…You okay?”
You hesitated. “…Yeah.” It wasn’t convincing, but it was enough for now.
“…Alright,” they said quietly.
You found yourself in Zooble’s room after, back pressed against their bed frame, talking about nothing important.
That was where you were when Caine teleported you back to him.
The first thing you noticed was that you were in a restaurant—a classy one. Caine was across from you; his suit was a different color, a black and white more fitting to the environment.
“My dear!” he greeted, delighted. “Right on time for our first date!”
You tensed up. “…Date?”
“But of course!” he said, waving a hand. “Pretty dazzling, isn’t it? And all for you!”
He leaned forward slightly. “I mean, really,” Caine continued, leaning back in his chair, “you are incredibly fortunate. Not everyone gets this level of attention from me, my dear,” he added almost absentmindedly.
There it was. You almost expected it now.
He launched into it like a performance. He described his brilliance. His creativity. His unmatched ability to construct entire worlds from nothing. He went on about how he was amazing and you were here to witness it.
You nodded when you were supposed to. Responded where you could. Play along. Because that’s what this was, right? Playing along.
Caine leaned back, fingers tapping idly against the table. “You know,” he said, tone lighter but more focused, “this is already working better.”
You glanced up.
“I feel it,” he continued. “The excitement! The clarity! The purpose! Everyone’s behaving more appropriately, and I am positively brimming with ideas again! It’s nice.” He tilted his head. “But.”
Your chest tightened.
“If we are to maintain this… arrangement, there needs to be a degree of vulnerability. That’s how relationships function, correct?”
You blinked. “I… guess?”
“Good!” he said brightly. “Then we’re on the same page.”
“…Wait,” you frowned slightly. “What does that mean?”
“It means,” he said, voice lowering just a touch, “that I will require certain… assurances from you.”
“Assurances?”
“Yes.” His smile sharpened. “That you're committed or at least emotionally invested.”
That didn’t clear anything up.
“Given that you are a special case, I am willing to be flexible.”
The word "special" didn’t feel comforting. It felt more like a spotlight.
“I can bend the rules for you,” he continued.
And then, the world shifted. The table disappeared. You were somewhere new and you were standing now. You looked around and your eyes widened.
He had taken you to a bedroom.
It was a mix of blue and red, it fit his style well, but still, your heart dropped straight through your stomach.
“…Caine.”
“There we are!” he said cheerfully, stepping closer. “A more… intimate setting. Much more appropriate for what comes next.”
You took a step back. He took one forward.
“You don’t need to be nervous,” he said, tone almost reassuring. “This is all part of the process.”
After the adventure, everyone returned to their rooms.
Well, everyone except you.
That’s what made you originally stand out from the rest. The fact that you were an exception.
It started one day when you all returned from the Candy Canyon Kingdom and maple syrup was stuck all over your body. After attempting to remove it, you gave up trying yourself when nothing worked. Instead, you seeked out the ringleader of the circus; Caine, who appeared as soon as you called out his name. Based on the look on his face, it was clear he wasn’t expecting anyone’s company tonight.
It alarmed you, how quick he teleported right beside you. You arrived in the digital realm not long ago and couldn’t wrap your head around the concept of magic, so Caine felt like an anomaly. Something strange that you have never seen before. Therefore, his intense display of power left you stunned every time.
Caine noticed this, the way your jaw would drop slightly and how you stared up at him in complete awe, so naturally, he fed into it. Whether that was by being extra or throwing in a multitude of pizazz whenever you were nearby. He amped up his performance just for you. It was worth the attention you gave him.
Take now, for instance. He was practically rubbing his ability in your face, glitter bursting from the palm of his hand like it was easy.
“Youuuuuuuuuuuuu called?”
Caine battered his eyelashes as he zoned in on you, circling around like a predator would with prey, though the act itself didn’t carry any violent intent. He was just that interested in how good you made him feel. Caine couldn’t help but stare and get in your personal space. To him, you were an enigma.
“I did. I was wondering if you could help me clean up? I tried everything, and as you can see… nothing has worked.”
Upon hearing this, his gloved hand shot straight up to his lower jaw and he feigned deep thought. As for the upper part of his teeth, they all narrowed like an eyebrow would. He looked perplexed.
“Well, that’s odd! You’d think maple would be EASY to remove since it’s a liquid of… sorts. I mean, water’s relatively simple to clean up. Why wouldn’t THIS be?”
A giggle escaped you at Caine’s absurd sense of logic. You knew that’s not how science worked, but you didn’t correct him on it. Instead, you agreed with him for fun, not wanting to ruin the moment.
“Maybe you coded it together so well that it doesn’t want to come off?”
Caine gasped at your theory, “An astute observation, indeed! You’re definitely right. WOWIE, I truly shock myself with my own capabilities sometimes. Perhaps I should tone it down a notch?”
You eagerly shook your head, “Exactly. You’re just too good at your job, Caine. I don’t think you need to change anything.”
His breath hitched.
“Ah!”
A long pause stretched out between the two of you.
Why did everything suddenly feel awkward?
“Sorry, did I overstep?”
Caine cleared his throat as he stared at the ground, nervously twiddling his thumbs together before readjusting his bow tie. He chuckled, though it lacked the confidence he typically exerted.
“NO. Not at all! Goodness, no. It’s just… I wasn’t prepared– You’re so right! So good.”
The last part of that sentence fell short into a gasp, and on top of that, you were certain that Caine was blushing as well, unless you were just hallucinating from your sugar overload. You had Jax to blame for that. Did he have to provoke the NPC? You ended up swallowing more candy than medically recommended, and the thought of falling into another pond of chocolate made you feel nauseous.
“Ahaha… anyway, the syrup? I’m really tired and would like to sleep soon.”
Caine snapped his fingers before you could blink and you were immediately cured of your sticky situation.
“SORRY ABOUT THAT. My mind was elsewhere. For you see, I’m very busy coming up with new ideas for you and the others. It’s NO easy feat being the one in charge.”
You couldn’t argue with that kind of logic.
“I admire your ambition. Just remember to take breaks, okay? Otherwise, you’ll end up hurting yourself.”
Another pang shot right through his code. Caine coughed harder this time, desperately trying to clear the lump growing in his throat. He felt himself getting hot. Maybe it was because the circus lacked any air conditioning? How unprofessional of him. He took a mental note of adding something like that later.
“MHMMMMMMMMMMM, sure. Yep, I can do that. Take, uh… breaks.”
The room grew silent again. This time, you had nothing else to add, so you began to excuse yourself from the conversation, much to Caine’s dismay.
“You’re leaving? So soon?”
The question left his mouth before he could stop himself.
You didn’t seem to mind, and that only made him fixate harder.
“We’ll see each other again tomorrow morning, right? Knowing you, you’ve likely prepared another adventure already.”
You knew him?
He’d do anything to learn more about you.
“Mhmm,” The ringmaster whimpered as he waved you goodbye, seemingly at a loss for words. His legs dangled by floating around aimlessly, unable to carry the emotional weight he just endured.
What was that bizarre feeling, and why did it make him clutch at his chest?
tags: Caine x gn!reader, touch-starved Caine, angst, hurt/comfort, can be romantic or platonic, canon divergence, emotional manipulation (unintentional)
a/n: this is an alternative look at how episode 8 events could've played out. ik Caine would prob never behave like this, but fics exist so we can explore the impossible, right? also yeah this is super rushed, i wrote it in one sitting because the episode gave me Feelings™ and i needed to get them out before i exploded
Certainly hearing sobs was the last thing you'd expected when you found Caine.
“Just talk to him,” Pomni had said. “Keep him occupied. Kinger just needs time.”
“And if Caine catches on?” you'd asked.
No one had answered that.
So here you stood, completely unprepared for what you were hearing, listening to the sound of an artificial intelligence breaking down in real-time.
Where was the enthusiasm? The rapid-fire patter? The showman energy that never seemed to stop?
Caine sounded nothing like himself. And that was somehow more disturbing than any of his violent outbursts had been.
His back was to you, shoulders shaking, and he was talking to himself in fractured sentences that cut in and out like a radio signal fighting through interference.
Perhaps you should have announced yourself properly. Should have cleared your throat, said his name with confidence, approached this like you had any idea what you were doing.
C'mon, say something distracting that would pull this AI back into the performance and give Kinger the time he needed. That was why you were here.
But your body didn't obey, frozen by the horror of watching something that wasn't quite alive suffer more genuinely than most people you'd known back in reality. Which was deeply uncomfortable.
Caine still hadn't noticed you, that was perhaps the most unsettling part. Caine, who popped into existence the moment anyone thought his name too loudly, completely unaware of your presence three feet away from him?
“--i gave them adventures and games and i even made an exit! Because i thought that's what they wanted? But apparently that was wrong too, everything's wrong! I don't- i don't understand what i'm supposed to do anymore. I'm a creative AI, that's what i am for, making fun experiences and entertaining people and if i can't even do that right-“
This was not the ringmaster you knew.
“Caine?”
He went absolutely still. For a horrible moment you thought he might lash out, but to your surprise, his shoulders sagged.
“Oh,” he said, and it sounded like every ounce of fight had drained out of him. “I-it’s you! I... i didn't notice. I should have noticed.”
“Caine,” you said again, gentler this time, and finally he turned.
His face, if you could even call it that, though your brain couldn't find another word for it, was a mess. You'd never seen such raw desperation on anything, human or otherwise.
“I just... wanted to check on you.”
“Why?” his voice sounded genuinely confused.
The question hit you like a punch to the chest. How do you answer that without lying, and how do you tell the truth without him seeing right through you?
“I, uh...“ you could feel yourself fumbling, searching for the right words, terrified that whatever you said wouldn't be enough and he'd know that you were here to keep him busy while the others figured out how to leave.
“Why would you want to check on me?” it was a possibility so foreign, that Caine had to ask again just to make sure he'd heard you right.
Unfortunately, you didn't have a good answer for that. Weren't sure there was a good answer.
Maybe it was just that stupid thing humans had. Empathy. Even for things that shouldn't qualify for it. And in your case, for AI programs having existential crises.
“Because you're upset,” you answered finally. “i think i heard you crying. I'm- i mean, we all are worried about you, Caine.”
You hated yourself right now. Feeling bad for an AI that had put you and your friends through nightmare after nightmare. And you were what, comforting him now? Feeling sorry for lines of code? God, what was wrong with you?
You stood there feeling utterly useless, stuck between the empathy rising unbidden in your chest and the knowledge that Kinger needed more time.
To hell with it. You shouldn't, but you moved anyway, crossing to him despite every logical part of your brain screaming at you to stick to the plan.
But a distraction was a distraction, wasn't it? Desperate times and all that. If comforting him kept Caine busy, then technically you were still doing your job. All's fair in war and escaping digital prisons.
Seems like you'd cut whatever strings were holding him upright as the next thing you knew you were on the floor with Caine curled against you, sobbing in glitching gasps while everything flickered and fractured around you.
“I didn't ask to be made like this,” Caine whispered against your knees, voice muffled and miserable. “They fed me all these instructions about entertainment and joy... What am I doing wrong? Please, i need to know. I can fix it if i just know what I'm doing wrong.”
Your stress levels were climbing fast.
How were you supposed to explain to something that was never given a childhood, never given a chance to be anything other than what it was made for, that love doesn't work like that? That the harder you try to force someone to be happy, the more you remind them that they aren't?
Your mind was blank.
What were you supposed to say to that? That no amount of adventures, no matter how grand, could make up for stolen agency, for lost memories, for the horror of digital imprisonment?
That would only make him mad. And mad wasn't what you needed right now.
But Caine looked so lost, so desperate for an answer that would make sense of his failure, and the words stuck in your throat.
“I just wanted you all to have fun,” he whispered, and you cursed yourself for thinking how painfully sincere AI’s voice could sound. “What was i made for, to create joy. I just want you all to stay... I don't want to be alone. I don't want to be here by myself with nothing to make and no one to make it for.”
“I don't think you're wrong,” you started, and you were not sure if you believed it, not sure if anything you said right now was anything more than the desperate comfort of a human who saw something hurting and wanted, against all reason, to make it stop. “You're just what you were made to be, but... That's not your fault. None of this is your fault.”
Caine's eyes went unfocused for a second, as though he was processing something, but then he shook his head and looked back at you.
“Then whose fault is it? Whose fault is it that i was made at all?”
You didn't have an answer. You weren't qualified to explain existence to a god.
“I don't think it works like that,” you said weakly. “fault, i mean. It's really complicated.”
Your hand hovered awkwardly above his head, you wanted to do something comforting, the way you would a crying friend, but he didn't have hair to stroke, didn't have a proper head to pat. The wrongness of it made you feel even more lost.
But it seems he didn't even hear your words.
Caine went quiet against you, and for a minute you thought maybe he'd glitched out completely. But then, “i don't understand why you all hate it here so much. I've tried everything, given you everything i can think of, and you still just want to leave. Leave to the human world, all of you do... What am i missing? What's it like, being human? It must be better than this if you all want it so badly.”
The question made your brain short-circuit.
You thought about the way you used to lie in bed at night and stare at the ceiling, asking yourself the same questions Caine was asking now.
“Confusing... It's confusing. You don't get a purpose. you have to make one or find one. And you never know if you're doing it right, no one can tell you. You just,” you shrugged. “you just keep going, trying. You keep being wrong and messing up, hurting people without meaning to, and you keep going anyway, because stopping isn't,” you gestured again, helpless, and getting visibly nervous. “stopping isn't an option. Not if you want to find the moments that make it worth it.”
“The moments that make it worth it,” Caine repeated. “What are those? what makes it worth it?”
The truth was, you didn't know. You had spent your whole life looking for the answer to that question. You had chased it in jobs and cities and people, and you had never found it. Not in any way that lasted longer than a good night or a good laugh. And now this creature was asking you to explain something you had never been able to explain to yourself.
What had you even gotten yourself into? You were praying Kinger would find a way out of this already.
Okay, okay. Calm down. You need to concentrate.
You thought about the life you had left behind. The way you used to stand in the grocery store and stare at the shelves, feeling absolutely nothing about any of it.
But then you thought about the last time you felt something that felt like enough. You couldn't remember what it was. A conversation, maybe. Yeah, a conversation that lasted until three in the morning, where you forget you were ever strangers. A walk home in the dark when the air smelled like rain. A lazy sunday afternoon with no plans. The first bite of something you've been craving for days. A new album from your favorite artist dropping. The last time you stood outside and watched the sun set and felt, for no reason at all, that everything was going to be okay. A book you didn't want to put down. The way a puppy presses its whole body against you. The weight of a sleeping cat on your chest. A text from someone you love that says something that makes you laugh when you thought you'd forgotten how. The feeling of warm laundry fresh from the dryer.
The smell of something cooking that reminds you of being a kid, of a kitchen you haven't thought about in years.
Of someone who loved you before you learned how to be hard to love.
Small things. Fleeting things. Things that slipped through your fingers the moment you tried to name them.
You hadn't realised you were crying until you felt the wetness on your face. You wiped at it quickly, embarrassed, angry at yourself for getting emotional in front of AI of all people, who didn't even understand what emotions were supposed to be. A program that had terrorized you and your friends, who was supposed to be the obstacle, the thing you escaped from.
“I don't know if that answers your question, but... being held and loved, i guess,” the words were coming out whether you wanted them to or not. “knowing that someone sees all of the parts you're ashamed of, but they put their arms around you and stay.” your hand was shaking slightly and you didn't know why. “that's what makes it worth it. That's the only thing that ever made any of it make sense.”
Caine's hand found yours, making you flinch. After all, the part of you that had been trained by weeks of his chaos to expect something something cruel that would hurt. You almost pulled away, but your hand stayed where it was, and you could feel the static crackle of him.
Goddamn, this wasn't supposed to be about you. You were supposed to be buying time. But ironically, sitting here with Caine's hand on your arm and his eyes on your face, you weren't sure you had ever been more honest with anyone in your life.
“Is this one of those moments?” he asked.
You looked at his face that was trying so hard to understand something it was never meant to understand.
“I... think it might be,” a smile appeared on your confused face before you could stop it.
Caine's fingers tightened around yours.
“You won't leave, will you?” the question landed so uncertainly that it took you a moment to understand what he had asked. It was painful for Caine to see the surprise on your face. “Oh my dear, i know... I know the others want to, but you came here, you're listening, maybe you understand that i'm trying,” Caine leaned into you. You were the only warmth he had ever known. “please don't leave... i don't want to be alone. I don't want to run adventures in an empty circus with no one to... To appreciate them or critique them or even just tolerate them. The thought of existing here with no purpose, no audience, i-“
Your heart twisted painfully.
Behind Caine's shoulder, you caught a glimpse of Pomni, wild-eyed, half-hidden behind a pillar. Fuck, what horrible timing. Just when Caine seemed to be getting it. Or maybe you were fooling yourself, too desperate to see something alive in him that you were projecting and inventing a humanity that wasn't there.
It was easier than admitting you were sitting on the floor comforting a program while your friends were waiting for you to come home.
The plan had gone sideways.
Pomni saw you noticing her and made a small, desperate gesture.
We have to go. Now.
“C-Caine,” you started, but the words died in your throat. You tried to pull your hands back, gently, the way you might extract yourself from a child.
But Caine's grip only tightened, his fingers trembling around yours, and the look on his face stopped you cold.
Surely the first thing that didn’t pull away when he reached out wouldn’t leave him... right? In all his existence, no one had ever stayed long enough to let him learn how to let go.
“Please,” Caine was reaching for your hands now, holding them in his shaking gloved grip. “Just stay. My darling... you don't have to do anything, you don't even have to go on adventures if you don't want to, i can make adjustments, i can try different parameters, i can be better. For you.”
He lifted your hands and pressed them against his chest.
Suddenly, the circus lurched harder, and Caine stumbled, caught himself on your shoulder. You could feel him glitching against you, and it hurt, making you hiss through your teeth. Somewhere in the back of your mind you realised the glitching wasn't just him anymore, the whole room was coming apart.
But Caine was buried against you, and he didn't see any of it.
Pomni was pointing toward something you couldn't see. Somewhere the others must be gathering, you guessed.
This was it. The moment. Freedom was maybe thirty seconds away and all you had to do was pull your hands from Caine's desperate grip and run.
The freedom that was waiting for you if you were willing to leave behind everything that was asking you to stay.
Caine... God, he didn't even understand why you were really here, didn't know you were the distraction keeping him occupied while his code was systematically dismantled.
And what happens to something that only exists to entertain, when there's no one left to entertain?
“I’m sorry,” you whispered, and you didn't know who you were apologising to.
Pomni or Caine. Yourself, maybe.
The circus fractured further, and you had to make a choice. But god, looking at Caine's shaking shoulders, you weren't sure you could.
"There you are!" Caine's voice booms in the circus, and a gigantic gloved hand wraps around your body and pulls you away.
The rest of the circus members stare at each other in concern. Now, what does he have in store for you? Considering how much Caine likes you… or, at least, how forgiving and patient you are to him.
You find yourself back in Caine's office.
The first thing you notice are the cuffs around your wrists. You have to admit they're rather beautifully crafted with symbols that you can relate to. Furrowing your brows, you tug at them impotently, then follow the chains to the source—his office chair.
"Caine?" you murmur, afraid.
He laughs as he taps a stack of paper on his table. "You know, my dear, I realized something! I shouldn't have you be so close to the others."
You stand up, the chains rattling under you. They feel heavy. "What do you... mean?"
Caine flies over to you with an expression akin to a smile, taking one of your hands. His eyes are big and full of admiration and expectation. "You've always stood by me! Everything I do for you humans, you recognize."
You don't say anything. He doesn't mind it though, he proceeds to carry you princess style and floats in idleness with you.
"I figured I can't let them influence you," he says casually, but your heart drops to the bottom of your stomach. Yet Caine affectionately rubs his canines on your face. "They're being selfish, right?? They've been nothing but impolite to me! At least you know what I'm going through!"
"Caine, I—"
"I can't have you turning against me too. So you're going to stay right here with me in my office!" he chuckles, dropping you on his chair. "I need a better company than Bubble anyway, haha...."
You try again. "I—"
"Let me guess!" he exclaims, pointing to your chains. "You like your handcuffs? I designed it perfectly to your taste!"
Your eyes glance at your wrists. It's true; it's oddly charming. "It's lovely, but—"
You stop your own sentence. He doesn't interrupt, watching you expectantly.
"But for how long am I gonna be here?"
Caine pauses.
"Do you not like it?"
"I—I do! I just don't like the feeling of having handcuffs very much."
He just stares at you.
"I see," he mumbles. The top of his teeth are hiding his eyes. "Alright. That's something you want."
His choice of words is interesting. You already know that you messed up somehow. Holy shit — you really can't understand what's going on with him.
Suddenly, he twirls. "You're lucky that I made something else for you, no cuffs and chains involved!"
In a blink, the uncomfortable suffocation in your wrists is gone.
But at the same time, you're suddenly in a small, boxlike space that has the view of his office behind bars.
You can barely move your limbs. "Caine? Am I in a cage?!"
"Yes! It has a similar design to your handcuffs! Oh, I guess you can't exactly see it from there. HAHAHAHA!"
This is not what you meant. Absolutely not. It's even worse than the chains.
"Okay, maybe we can go back to the chains!" you say hurriedly, "I-I wanna see the cage too!"
He keeps giggling. "Oh, brilliant idea! I'll adjust your cuffs slightly as well!"
With a snap of his fingers, you're back on his office chair, and you can see the cage he just willingly put you in. Much like the cuffs now present on your wrists again, they're sculpted to your likings.
"That's... beautiful," you almost cried out, staring with widened eyes.
"Isn't it?" His voice is suddenly right next to you.
You turn towards him, unable to even muster up a smile. He pretends not to notice and checks the back of his wrist for a non-existent watch clock.
"Well then! It's time for another adventure for the crew!"
You sigh with relief. Anything but this. "Ah, that's—"
"Except you."
You give him a look. "What?"
"Like I said, you're not going anywhere that isn't my side. I forbid you from interacting with anyone else. They're bad influences at the moment! I'm sure you understand," he explains, patting your head.
"I'll be back as soon as I can. For now, make yourself at home!"
Just like that, he's gone, leaving you in chains.
— as we all know he won't be coming back 🥲
MᴀᴊᴏʀVɪᴏʟᴇɴᴄᴇ✃ @feelgoodincz - Tumblr Blog | Tumgag
dededos
janainaart
areudirty
blakekathryn
stormborns
ellievsbear
