Between His Fingers

Chapter 1

a/n: so the beginning is slightly rough bc its backstory, but this is the first chapter of Between His Fingers! I hope yall like it ive been working rlly hard on it

warnings: Dio being creepy, drug and alcohol mentions, mentions of homelessness, etc

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Being an orphan in Cairo didn't seem like the worst thing in the world to you. Having parents definitely would be better, but as things went? You didn't hate it, really. It wasn't awful, especially because of your Stand, which made things a lot easier.

You didn't know exactly what it even was. It had just... always been there. As you grew, it helped you. It would snatch food at the markets, making sure you rarely went hungry, and that you could help your friends. It fully materialized for the first time outside your body when you were sixteen.

You'd grown up nicely, with long, shiny hair and a little more plumpness on your figure than most people you knew. You figured it was just your build, but you had some curves where other girls were skinny from starving. You could still run and hide as well as any of them, even if you carried some extra weight.

You had few friends on the streets, but they were loyal. You tried to keep each other fed, even if it meant going hungry yourself. You'd stolen any manner of things, even cigarettes and hard liquor for your friends. Any escape was welcome, and nearly everyone you knew smoked cigarettes religiously, including you.

But one night nobody could be found. You'd noticed your friends disappearing, mostly the girls. You couldn't figure it out, and the police didn't care. They wanted all the street urchins dead anyways, and it looked like someone was doing it for them. Despite your kicking and pleading and even seducing(not that you were any good at it, really, having avoided men as long as you could), they wouldn't look for your friends.

So there you were. Friendless, alone, trudging down the street with only the moon lighting your way.

A man appeared in an alley next to you. You immediately put up your guard. He was big. Big enough to be threatening. You didn't know his intentions, but as he stepped toward you and the moon glinted on his blond hair, you knew it couldn't be good.

You tried raising your voice. "St-stay away, tourist!"

Damn that stutter. Fuck. He smirked at you. "So I've found myself a fighter, huh? Delicious."

He licked his lips, exposing his fangs. You shrieked and turned to run, but his hand grabbed your shoulder, pulling you into his chest. He was cold as ice, and huge. His cold fingers caressed your artery. "So warm...so full of life. I truly hate to do this, but you'll help me regain my body, won't you?"

You saw red. Or more accurately, white. Light blazed behind you, engulfing the man holding you and searing his skin into ash. Your back seared in pain, and you cried out. You saw...wings? A head that was only eyes...four arms...an angel. The angel grabbed the man who'd been holding you, burning into his throat. He screamed and clawed at the angel's hands, but he couldn't seem to make contact. His eyes widened in fear and suddenly, he disappeared. In less than an instant, he was next to you, tilting your chin up. "A Stand, eh? Beautiful. It truly reflects your angelic looks."

You stared into his eyes, and suddenly it didn't seem so bad. Even when a tentacle whipped out and pushed a needle into your forehead, it didn't seem so bad. Your angel phased back into your body, and you felt warmth and peace knowing it was there to defend you. But not against him. This man was good, and you were loyal to him. He helped you up. "My name is Dio Brando. Will you help me?"

Wordlessly, you nodded, still staring into his eyes. He smiled with surprising warmth. "Excellent."

You didn't know it, but you were fucked.

(Word Count: 665)