JJBA Reader Insert One-Shots

Speedwagon x Reader: "The Balcony"

You regretted never meeting Jonathan Joestar. You had heard all about him from Erina in your youth: she positively gushed over his gentlemanliness, his chivalry, and his valor, every time she came for tea. Your cup would grow cold as your rested your elbows on the table, leaning in to hear whatever story she had for you that day about her adventures with JoJo. You longed to get out of this stupid mansion, to ride through the country and play in the fields with Erina. But, of course, your governess would not allow anything of the sort, and you would whine as she ordered that you remove your elbows from the table. These merry meetings were the highlight of your childhood, and each week you looked forward to a new story: one of romance or comedy or tragedy. You consoled her when she lamented JoJo's position of conflict with his adopted brother, and advised her the best course of action.

However you knew this dream had to end some day. It was an abrupt shift from adolescence to adulthood. One day she left and simply never returned. Your father told you she had left for India, and may never come back to England. You lost your closest companion, and your only link to the outside world.

Of course, you rarely thought of this once you had escaped your parents' country mansion. Your governess had long ago resigned as she had become absolutely disgusted your unorthodox attitudes, thinking you were a lost cause. You persuaded your father to let you leave for London to pursue an education, an apprenticeship, something, anything. And the city life seemed to be treating you quite nicely.

It was a late evening. Beyond the rim of the balcony, you could see the sun setting over the Thames as stars began to dot the violet sky. Of course, most of the heavens were obscured by clouds and smoke and haze, and steam horns drowned out the sounds of pigeons cooing and pecking crumbs off the dirty cobblestone road beneath the window. A light drizzle evoked commotion in the marketplace below, and your shut the balcony doors as rain began to pour down.

But, nonetheless, you enjoyed this life. You had become quite the influential figure in the London scene, and a knock at the door was nothing terribly unexpected, though, at this hour of the night, you rarely had visitors.

You hurriedly descended the staircase and strode to the mahogany door, turning the rusty metal knob as the hinges creaked open. You were prepared to shoo the solicitor away, bid him return in the morning, or something of the sort. But, instead, you froze.

The man loomed over you, his hulking figure casting a long shadow across the room. His luscious mane of golden hair framed his surprisingly soft face, across which a ragged, pink scar trailed. His eyebrows were thick and expressive; if they had been tightened in a frown you might have been terrified out of your wits. But he seemed desperate, forlorn, sincere. His rough and calloused hand reached to the brim of his checkered top hat, and you noticed the glistening drops of rain that drenched through the material. With a polite tip of his hat, he began to speak.

"Please pardon my intrusion, but, might you be Lady (y/n) (l/n)?" You grimaced at the use of your title, but remained calm and gracious towards the handsome gentlemen.

"Yes, but please, call me (y/n). And who might you be?" You raised your eyebrows inquisitively. He seemed slightly shaken, and his cheeks flushed as he took your hand in his, pressing your knuckles tenderly to his soft lips. You shivered at the velvety touch, trying to maintain your solemn composure.

"My name is Robert E. O. Speedwagon, I was sent by an old childhood friend of yours," Your eyes flashed as he mentioned this, and you interrupted his introduction.

"Erina? Erina Pendleton?" Your heart quickened in surprise and your mind flooded with memories of your youth. A slight smile tugged at the man's shapely lips, and he nodded in affirmation. You couldn't help but beam as the words flowing out of your mouth exposed just how ecstatic you were, "How is she? I haven't seen her in years! When did she return? How did you find me–" The man gently gripped your shoulder and you halted your speech at his soft eyes.