Our Tiny Little Secret | Jotaro X Reader Omegaverse

Chapter 30

     Dare. Truth. Truth. Truth. Dare. Dare. Suddenly, there were no more cards. Everyone seemed to finish around the same time, our grins and laughter filling the room as we awaited our next instructions. It was a sweet, harmless facade, though quite useless. The suffocating tention that settled like sement around us choked our joyful breaths until all we could do was wait. Impatiently, anxiously... wait.

     We had played a children's game with seemingly no catches to it. It was all too suspisciously easy and... easy. Everyone was waiting for something to appear. Something would jump from the floor or drop from the ceiling. Something would catch them off guard and throw them to the ground in defeat.

     "The second round will begin shortly."

     The tables were cleared and set once again, the decks identically organized as they had been before. Jotaro and I glanced for only an insant toward eachother uneasily. Swallowing whatever had been preventing air from reaching my poor lungs, I drew the first card.

     Dare.

     I took a sharp breath, tilting my head as my lips began to form the words revealing to be quite unfamiliar to me.

     "Complete one of the following cute... actions... What the fuck is this?" My fingers dented the sides of the card as a deep scowl creased my cheeks. There were no options listed below those fucked up words. I put the card down before any more damage could be dealt.

     As I looked up, a man stood beside me. I flinched; I hadn't smelled him among the millions of stenched pigs surrounding me. He held a new, smaller desk of cards. They looked cheap... printed for immediate disposal as though... it was expected that my reaction would be the way it was. As I dragged the thin sheet, resting innocently on top, into my awaiting view, the deck didn't last another instant. It was in my fist.

     Jotaro sighed. "Good grief. Can we get this over with?" My tongue clicked itself as I dropped each of the useless shits of white onto the floor. Of course, I planned on picking up every last one of them. It was already crowded.

     A pheromone kiss.

     I was probably fuming; flustered, but I showed the least of it. I was annoyed, and that's all they would know. I had to sacrifice... or, rather, kill my pride myself. I knew that since day one.

     But my pride wasn't the only thing at risk.

     "Brace yourself," I teased, taking a deep, silent breath, "my pheromones are real strong."

     He blinked, and I wondered if he accepted my words as an actual warning. He couldn't breathe them in. He couldn't absorb them in any way. And I pressed the pads of my fingers to the nape of my neck. Underneath my hair, my mark was hidden, or... I wondered... practically prayed that it was. I could feel it clearly. I shivered unintentionally, but I froze my expression, hardened it completely within that same shivering instant.

     A pheromone kiss.

     I dragged my fingers along my neck until my hand centered my being, pressuring my most vulnerable place. I paused there as our eyes met, and I still didn't know... if this would affect him. If it would kill us both.

     I lifted my head, sliding my fingers, the nails of their labored delicacy tickling a thin path to the tip of my chin. They left my touch and returned to tap my soft lips. Then I found his gaze again. I lowered my head, and I outstretched my arm toward him.

     No one really knew what a pheromone kiss did. But it sent a heavy cloud toward its victim. Of any emotion, it could rain, and it could storm too. No one knew. It was so fucking unpredictable.

     I was scared.

     His eyes didn't leave mine; they didn't say anything either. They didn't need to. The red. The smell. I could smell him through the crowd. I could fucking smell him, and I'm sure everyone could too. It didn't wait or give warning. It erupted abruptly and surely. Surely that I was there and that I was his. He anounced me his to the room, to the world, to the people who would kill us for it.

     My knees fell to the floor, and a tear slipped down my cheek; it was cold.

     The doors opened, and who knew what that meant? My eyes were closed and my feet were lifted. It was so cold as my hair blew against the wind. The wind was so cold.

     But my blood ran so warm.

     We were outside. There was shouting. I just let it happen. I should have run, but I wouldn't have been able to. Every step he skipped to run faster, every breath he whispered, every beat of his heart, I felt myself yearning for fucking sex.

     I couldn't see. Static stuffed my eyes and brain and body with its darkness and heat and embers of desire. But my tears were cold, so I let them drip a little longer than I should've.

(847 words) Thank you for reading! There's more, so continue on to the next chapter! (ಡ‸ಡ)