Icee's Garbage One-shots

Dio: Losing Focus

Things nobody asked for: (Onesided) Student!DioxStudent!Reader.
 
I actually love Part One Dio, but I just like egotistical dipshits in general, so it’s really not a surprise to anyone.
 
I’m rusty affffff at writing rn, and this is all over the place (there’s like a billion time-skips, ew) but I figured I can practice writing with a Dio one-shot. And if it sucks then it’s OK bc it’s Dio lmao. Btw, this isn’t a lemon, but there’s some spice bc…it’s Dio.
 
 ~♡~

He supposed that it shouldn’t come as a surprise you were in love with him. Many were. Who wouldn’t fall for him, Dio? He was the star of several of the school’s sports teams as well as the most revered on the debate team; he was also incredibly attractive. Truthfully, he hadn’t paid you any mind up until recently, not one to pay much heed to those he didn’t deem either worthy or useful to him.
 
It wasn’t until a girl approached him, shyly holding a piece of paper out to him, that he truly began to take notice of your craft. He slyly leaned towards the girl, his fingers gently stroking her jaw while his other hand simply plucked the paper from her fingertips, her knees practically giving way at his simple touch. “And where, pray tell, did you get such a striking photo?” It was a clipping from a paper, predominantly featuring a photo of him, his eyebrows were lowered in intense concentration, an arm extended out in a poetic gesture, back tall and straight as he stood proudly behind a podium. “I-it’s in today’s paper, they ran an article about the debate team. You were fantastic, Dio.” The girl cooed, not caring that Dio’s golden red gaze was on the black and white image of himself rather than meeting her own. It seemed as though somehow some way, the student published paper always seemed to capture him in a good light, especially when it came to photos of him. The blonde boy hummed in response, his eyes finally swiveling up to meet her own. “Thank you, I’m rather proud.” He said smugly, leaning back from the girl whose name he never bothered to learn, hand dropping away from her. The girl continued to talk, praising the tall blonde as Dio looked over the article, not caring much for what was written save for the small letters under the photo crediting you for your work. (Y/n).
 
Once he was finally home he quickly made his way to his room, ignoring his idiot adoptive brother trying to speak with him. He could care less about Jonathan’s niceties, he had more important things to focus on, namely you at the moment. Closing his bedroom door, he unceremoniously dropped his bag by his bed, opening his ornate study desk’s drawer. Inside was a pile, a small archive, of newspaper articles featuring him. He’d always liked the photos, some of the girls in school even going as far as to hang them up in their lockers along side whatever celebrity they like, but now instead of simply looking at the photos, he looked at the name under them. All of them had your name under them. He couldn’t help the smirk that came to his lips knowing he had ensnared another heart with little to no effort. His chest swelled with pride at the thought. He vaguely recalled you, usually a camera covering your features, distorting his memory of your face. He would have to pay more attention next time.
 
~♡~
 
He didn’t have to wait long. As he gracefully dodged his opponent a flash of light caught his eye. Dio’s eyes flit from the rugby ball for a split moment, seeing the all familiar lens aimed out towards the field. It was you. Camera aimed at him, of course, looking for the perfect moment to press the shutter button. His eyes went back to the ball, his eyebrows lowering in determination. If you wanted a good photo, he would give you the shot of a lifetime. Dio rushed forwards, ignoring the questioning looks and calls from his fellow teammates, Jonathan included, on what he was doing as he suddenly began to play offense, as opposed to defense; this wasn’t in their afore planned play. He jumped up as the ball left the opponent’s hand, his impressive stature allowing him to gain more height than the others as he caught the ball. A surge of adrenaline rushed through him as he saw the flash from the corner of his eye once more, knowing that you were probably swooning over how he could single-handedly carry the entirety of his team. The blonde boy ignored the ache in his muscles as he sprinted towards the goal, mercilessly shouldering a smaller opponent out of his way, hearing only the crescendo of the announcer and the crowd. As he crossed the line he made sure to turn around and proudly pose, giving his new-found little shutterbug a chance to catch this moment. His eyes darted over to you, making sure to give the “camera” a charming smile, knowing that you were watching through the viewfinder. His fellow teammates, though confused and slightly frustrated at the boastful move on his part, all quickly congratulated him, hoisting him up in victory.
 
Outwardly, Dio acted as though he was enjoying the attention, smiling and waving to the stands, throwing a wink towards a group of girls in the front row. Inwardly, he was fuming that his team-mates carried him off before he could get a clear view of your face. Jonathan wasn’t fooled as easily as the others though, pulling the blonde to the side and in hopes of actually connecting with his brother, but of course his concern was quickly brushed aside. “Nothing is wrong, Jojo. Just enjoying another victorious game is all.” There was a smile on his lips but he couldn’t help the bitter tone that laced his words. It was enough for Jonathan to dismiss the subject though, the two rejoining the rest of the group.
 
~♡~
 
Normally, the day after such a victory he would strut into the cafeteria, two, sometimes more, highly attractive females clinging to his arms as a crowd would swarm him with congratulatory words and high-fives. Not today though. Today he dismissed the girls and his “followers”, as he deemed them, muttering some sort of excuse for them to go procure a table as he stood in the hall, not that he ever had issues getting a table; hell, half the cafeteria would bend over backwards to let him sit at their table. He, Dio, took pity on you today, sparing you from seeing him with a gaggle of girls practically draped over him. He supposed he owed it to you in a way, you helped boost his fame, always making sure to capture his good side and highlighting his many victories. He entered the cafeteria with minimal fanfare, his sunset hued eyes scanned the room, nodding subtly to those who met his gaze; well, those that mattered to him, anyway. Tucked away in the back corner was you. Finally, without that damnable camera covering your face. His eyes scanned over you, taking in your features. You were, dare he say, cute. You weren’t the type Dio would normally be attracted to, truthfully. It wasn’t a secret that he was a Playboy, picking and choosing a new flavor of the week as he saw fit, sometimes stringing multiple girls along just for the fun of it. It was different, for him to be admiring someone from a far, not that he was actually admiring you, just simply observing; that was all. He was quite used to girls vying to obtain his attention, trying to present themselves according to what they thought would find attractive. Designer clothes and alluring perfumes were usually donned in hopes that it would draw him in. You on the other hand, didn’t even bat an eye when he walked in, probably too afraid to even glance in his direction least you melt into a puddle in front of a large population of the student body.
 
He wasn’t put off by you, by any means, the opposite rather. He watched you tell some sort of story, your eyes crinkling as you laughed, hands moving animatedly. Maybe you were even recounting a story about him, your crush, telling your friends how twitterpated you got at the game. The group you sat with was nobody noteworthy, just the type of kids he usually ignored or even sometimes physically pushed aside when they didn’t make way for him in the halls quick enough. Dio supposed that that worked to your advantage, flying under the radar for so long, being able to admire him freely whilst you hid among the less popular crowd and behind your camera.
 
~♡~
 
The more he watched you, the more he found you to be alluring in an innocent sort of way, never brave enough to meet his gaze be it at an event or in the hall. He shared no classes with you, which was probably for the better for you as you’d probably be too distracted by him in a classroom setting. And yet, he still managed to see you quite often thanks to all the sporting events he was involved with as well as the debates. You seemed kind, taking a moment to speak with those who were benched, sometimes offering to fetch water for some of his fellow teammates. You never personally asked him, but he didn’t mind much, he liked watching you scurry away like a small mouse fleeing from a lion when he was around. It was cute.
 
He found himself being even more forwards than usual in the sports teams he took part in, always needing to be in the front, in the limelight. He would deviate from the plans in rugby to where he would end up with the ball the most, his jabs were more fierce in the boxing arena, his gestures became more grandiose in debate, almost in ensuring that you would want to capture this moment on film. Making sure to hold a flattering pose when he could whenever he saw you lifting your camera. He knew he shouldn’t feed into your fantasies like this, but he couldn’t help it. Reviewing your photos soon became a guilty pleasure of his. Maybe this had been your plan all along, just biding your time until he finally recognized your adoration through your craft. And now, here he was. He was a little disappointed that you still hadn’t approached him, or took notice that he had taken notice if you. Or, maybe you had, and were now just playing coy, waiting for him to make a move; how clever. Another guilty pleasure of his was while you were working you would occasionally be forced into a provocative position to get just the right angle, something that made Dio appreciate the few times he’d been benched, as he could watch you move without having to worry about the game. His pride wouldn’t allow him to purposefully feign an injury or throw a match to sit out for a game, though; he, Dio, wouldn’t lower himself to such an act. Instead, he settled for just a few fleeting glances between the action, his favorite moments being when you had to take low angle photo, bending over a bench or even sometimes getting on your knees, probably knowing he was watching. You were practically begging for his eyes to drag across your form, pining for him to notice or speak to you, he was sure.
 
~♡~
 
As the days passed Dio found himself concocting fantasies on his own accord while he laid in his bed at night. Pondering what should happen if he gave into you, allowed you to finally be forward with your feelings. He imagined it would start out as something innocent. In his fantasy, he’d humbly offer to simply model for you, you unable to resist the offer would eagerly take him up on it, a shy smile tugging on your lips. He would pose himself elegantly, looking like royalty as he sat in the Joestar library, the fireplace casting a warm glow, highlighting his best features. You’d give him simple directions for posing, sometimes unable to vocalize your vision, or so you would say. It would likely just be a flimsy excuse. Your hand would hover hesitantly for a moment before making contact with him, a blush gracing your features as you gently positioned him, looking up at him shyly through your lashes. Your touch would linger for a few moments, but Dio would pretend to not notice. You’d eventually garner the courage to shyly suggest from behind your camera to maybe loosen a few buttons on his shit, revealing the upper portion of his chest. Of course, he would ponder it over for a moment before indulging you, a smug, lusty smirk cast in your direction as he slowly pried the top few buttons open with a practiced hand, teasing you with a glimpse of his muscular chest.
 
A few simple suggestions later and he would be sprawled out upon the antique velvet couch, his shirt discarded, or maybe he’d be wearing nothing at all. He’d like to think you’d become more bold the more time you spent around him. You’d stand from your crouching position, setting your camera aside before moving towards him to “position his face”, which he knew was a rouse. Your hands cupped his jawline, fingers slightly trembling as they gently titled his head up to look at you. That’s when he’d finally strike, grabbing you and pulling you onto the couch, shifting you to where he was pinning you underneath his muscular body. Oh, you’d try to deny that this was everything you’d ever wanted, weakly mewing out some sort of resistance. He’d chuckle under his breath, his lips tantalizingly close to your own as he would taunt you, revealing that he’d known of your game all along. Upon that, you’d finally break, wrapping your arms around his neck. Your hands would tangle into his blonde hair as you took it all back, confessing how much you had adored him and wanted nothing more than his attention. It would be so sweet.
 
~♡~
 
As one would expect, he did phenomenal in tonight’s big debate. He knew you’d thought so too, based on the flashes of light he’d managed to see beyond the stage’s bright lights. Dio was composed, his gestures elegant, and tone commanding. He was a highly skilled orator and he used that to his full advantage both in debate and in his personal life. He wasn’t a fan that he’d been saddled with a partner this round, but Dio managed to make up for their blunders and weaknesses.
 
He moved smoothly through his peers, everyone taking a moment to congratulate him naturally. He was kind enough to thank those on his team, exchanging a few pleasantries here and there. Much to his chagrin, Jojo had felt the need to congregate back behind stage amongst the other students, always so damn polite even to the opposing team members; he knew he would hear his brother’s incessant babbling during the ride home, he wasn’t about to subject himself any further than necessary. He managed to skirt past his brother, heading to the very back of the auditorium where a lesser used hallway led to the foyer. The closing of the door behind him signaled an end to his cheerful façade he had posed for the night, his hand immediately flying up into his golden hair and gave it a fierce combing through with his fingers, his palm kneading against his throbbing head. The confident grin he’d been wearing mutated into a brooding pout as he took a few steps into the quiet hall. He was eager to enjoy a nice dinner, a fine glass of wine or two, and retreat into his room. He found himself savoring his solitude more and more these days.
 
His hand fell away from his hair as he heard the soft padding of foot steps coming down the hall. Rolling his shoulders back, he cast an unamused look at whomever it was that was intruding on his quiet moment. Dio’s eyes widened as he saw that it was you. He felt his eyebrows unknit, features softening as he took you in. You’d dressed up for the night, something Dio appreciated greatly. It was a simple look, just a modest dress, but it was much more flattering than your usual wear. In your arms was a delicate looking bouquet, a golden ribbon tying it all together. Were those for him? Of course, he was called the school’s golden boy, so he supposed that it was natural that you’d associate that color with him. He watched as you looked over your shoulder, as if making sure that you two were alone. Were you finally going to admit your feelings towards him?
 
Dio’s back went ram rod straight, jaw clenching as you looked back around, eyes finally meeting. He felt his Adam’s apple bob against his collar which now seemed so constrictive; too tight. His fist clenched as he fought the urge to rip his neckerchief off. It wasn’t often that Dio felt nervous, but this somehow was one of those rare moments; he didn’t like it. He shouldn’t be nervous. His heart shouldn’t be the one fluttering in anticipation, it should be yours. He fought to keep his exterior calm and collected as usual, ignoring the warmth of his face and ears. It was simply the adrenaline mixed with the warm stage lights was all. You gave a shy smile, nervously adjusting your grip on the bouquet, careful to avoid any thorns. This was the moment he’d been anticipating, when you’d finally confess your feelings towards him. He would have the decency to act surprised of course, allow you to have your moment.
 
The door behind him opened, which seemed to break the moment. Dio’s ochre and cadmium colored eyes widened as you surged forwards, flowers shifting to one arm as your other opened up, a luminous smile across your lips. His heart raced, fingers twitching, wanting to return the gesture and openly embrace you, but he to remain composed. His eyes closed for a moment, waiting for the moment your small body made contact with his, the feeling of your arms wrapping around his broad torso, maybe even lifting yourself on your toes in attempts to wrap them around his neck, but it never came.
 
“You did wonderful!”
 
His eyes snapped open. You were behind him. His heart clenched as he heard a masculine voice behind him reply, ‘thank you’. Dio felt his jaw tighten even more, his fists now balling in a fit of rage as he looked back to see just whom it was you were addressing. His lip curled into a snarl as he saw you in another’s arms, one of his fellow debate members no less. You leaning into the other boy’s chest, arms wrapped around his midsection as one of his arms curled comfortably around you, hand resting on your waist; in his other hand, he held the flowers. Those were his flowers! You were supposed to be embracing him! How dare this insolent nobody claim what was rightfully Dio’s.
 
Though the two of you were only a few feet away from Dio, it seemed as though he was watching from a great distance away; everything around him fuzzy and unfocused save you both. He saw the boy’s lips move and you reply, but he couldn’t hear anything outside his inner thoughts and the blood rushing in his ears. He watched as you broke apart from one another, his jaw aching from clenching it. The boy offered you his arm, smiling up at him as you gratefully took it, brushing your skirt nervously with your free hand. Unbeknownst to the two of you Dio glowered as you two conversed, a soft smile on your face. He could feel his jaw tighten as he saw his teammate's ears turn red at something you said, the two of you laughing before finally walking past Dio as if he wasn’t even there. So, this was your game? Either you were trying to make him jealous or using this poor slob to try and get close to him; maybe both. He had to hand it to you, it was a rather bold move on your part. Not many were brave enough to risk his ire, but then again, not many were as head over heels as you were.
 
Fine. He would play your game, and he would win. This was a promise.
 
~♡~

 
I find it way too hard to write a simple one-shot.
 
Like???  I don't want just a sample of cake, I want a complex 13 layered cake with icing and development and plot. How the fuck am I supposed to just make a one-shot and call it a day!? HOW!?

I definately left this open for possible continuation bc???  Idek.