#smidge of jotaro x reader

[zeppeli-reelstallbun]

Did Something Slip Your Mind?

Chapter 1/? [masterlist]

[PAIRING] Rohan Kishibe x Reader (she/her)

[SUMMARY] It wasn’t the worst job you’d ever taken… Besides, working for one of the most popular artists in the country was sure to boost your resume, even if it was at the expense of your sanity. (Fic takes place mid part 4)

[WC] 3k

[!!!] Sfw for now… Heaven’s Door is a warning in itself, though. Memory erasing moments WILL be entirely excluded from the fic so you experience the confusion genuinely, but it will be obvious for the most part WHEN the stand has been used. Language, eventual drinking, eventual smut, probably improper use of stands knowing me. This is Rohan we're talking about so I feel like I need to mention that noncon will not be happening, but dubcon isn’t entirely off the table I suppose. Tiniest bit of Jotaro x reader if you squint.

[CONTINUITY NOTE] According to his first meeting with Reimi, Rohan can’t read details about himself with Heaven's Door, but we’re gonna go ahead and use ‘Araki forgot’ as an excuse for the fic concept. During Bites the Dust, Rohan DOES contradict this when he reads his future in Hayato. However, this results in literally killing him, so maybe there’s a reason it’s the exception. Regardless, this rule doesn’t exist in this fic for one reason, and it’s because I'm writing it and I said so.

[A/N] I'm an American so please, uh, thoughts and prayers, shits crazy here rn :/

The town was quiet enough, but then again, the grating routine of daily life had never really been a dealbreaker for you. You had lived in Morioh long enough to get used to its quirks—its people, its lack of excitement, the occasional strange occurrence that always seemed just on the edge of your peripheral vision. You had even grown fond of the smallness of it; in a way, you knew you could hole yourself up in your apartment and dive into the job that supported this lifestyle.

The work itself, though? That was a different story.

You had always taken a liking to art. Something about the ability to express yourself without trying to string together the words of a poet had given you refuge growing up, but you spent a long time worrying over the skill set needed to pursue it as you entered ‘the real world.’ A few years ago, however, you made the jump to working full-time as a graphic designer, putting your ‘impractical’ degree to some use. It hadn't been easy. The initial months of scraping together freelance work had been grueling, but slowly, you found yourself carving out a niche in the industry. What had started with local business cards and promo fliers for the most boring men and businesses had turned into something you could now be more passionate about: Manga covers.

With the rise in popularity across the country, you’d found a pretty consistent stream of clients looking for fresh, eye-catching designs. Even better, however, was the fact that you could complete the job entirely remote for this style of work. Every aspect of the upkeep was fulfilling, and you enjoyed being able to interact with your employers behind the privacy of a screen.

You enjoyed most of them, that was.

Where did you even begin with Rohan Kishibe? His name was a constant in your inbox, and no matter how many different ways you presented his work, it never seemed to satisfy him. You couldn’t even say that he was a bad client. No, that wasn’t it. He was just… difficult.

Emails between the two of you were often terse and passive-aggressive. He would frequently send over sets of revisions, complaining that a design was “too conventional,” or “too safe.” He would demand adjustments at the last minute, throwing off your already chaotic deadline structure. And when it came to his feedback? Maddeningly vague. He would leave you scrambling to figure out what he wanted, only to backtrack and tell you it wasn’t what he asked for in the first place. It felt like no matter how many times you changed a design, you’d never be able to get it just right for the man.

But you dealt with it. What choice did you have? It wasn’t the worst job you’d ever taken… Besides, Rohan was one of your biggest employers—no, the biggest—and as much as you wanted to roll your eyes at every email he sent, you knew you had to deliver. He wasn’t the kind of person you could afford to offend, even if he was an insufferable pain in the ass. He opened doors for you in a way no one else could, to put it simply.

The success of Pink Dark Boy was exactly the kind of thing you needed to line your resume, even if the popularity of the franchise was the root cause of your turmoil. Rohan was your age, you’d discovered one night, and you were positive that the amount of traction the story had gained was responsible for the man's unchallenged ego. So what? He managed to break out as an acclaimed artist early enough to make a name for himself. It’s not like you were jealous.

Maybe you would have been if he weren't such a dick; you’d hate to see his personality on you, even if for a second.

Besides, you couldn’t tell much about him from just his emails. Brief, formal, to the point, with a few jabs sprinkled in here and there, his tone always carrying an air of superiority. Rohan Kishibe. Famous manga artist. Brilliant and arrogant in equal measure. You hated that you found him compelling, too. It was something you’d never admit to anyone, least of all yourself. But there was something about his presentation—the aura of confidence, the sharpness in his writing, the causal arrogance that dripped from every sentence—that got under your skin.

But that was as far as it went. A few passing thoughts on the quality of his manga as you stared at your inbox. You didn't give him any thought outside of your work, and you certainly did not think about him during your infrequent visits to town.

At least, not until today.

You were walking through the streets to your apartment, holding a grocery bag in one hand, mind preoccupied with the drafts of the latest cover you were working on for another client, when you saw him.

God damn it.

It took a moment to recognize him, but when you did, it felt like the world came to a screeching halt. He was standing outside a small cafe, arms crossed and eyes scanning the street, completely unaware of the effect his presence had on you. It wasn’t just seeing his face that did it. No, you had seen his face too many times, his headshot lined each inside cover of his work. Every week, you were tasked with formatting that face. Even from a distance, it was unmistakable, but to you, it was the most unremarkable aspect of the man.

What shocked you most was how… real he looked in person. Like a character going from page to screen, he just stood there—every aspect of his body language dripping confidence, commanding attention. He was even standing in a way that said he was used to people looking at him.

And then there was the fact that he was showing a little more skin than you expected. The short, cropped jacket he wore was unbuttoned, revealing a sliver of his midriff. It was a strange choice, considering it was a cooler day, but somehow, it worked. You couldn’t help but notice the way his abs looked under his clothing, you couldn’t help but notice the fact he had them in the first place. That was shock enough, let alone how toned they appeared. For a brief fleeting moment, your mind—and eyes—wandered. But who could blame you when he looked like that?

You shook yourself mentally, immediately regretting the thoughts that had popped up unbidden. Honestly, the rational part of your brain almost caused you to gag at the notion.

After all, this was the same man who sent you cryptic, if not rude, emails about the most trivial design choices. The same man who seemed more interested in nitpicking your work than actually appreciating it. The same man who seemed incapable of offering clear, constructive feedback without a fistful of condescension.

Too bad he’s an asshole, you mentally shrugged, realizing that you were now thankful he hadn’t recognized you. Why would he? It’s not like you worked face to face. And you certainly had zero intentions of fawning over him, even if introducing yourself was the ‘polite’ thing to do as a business associate. It was for the best, you told yourself. If anything, it only solidified your feelings about the man. He was a cocky, self-assured, midriff-flashing diva who probably had no idea how much he pissed you off with every email. He didn't need to know that you had seen him in person.

He didn't need to know you were living in the same town as him.

Sunlight filtered through the inexpensive blinds, waking you from your peaceful slumber, growing brighter as you enjoyed the routine you’d grown accustomed to: the scent of coffee brewing in your kitchen, the faint hum of small town life outside the window, and the smell of your breakfast cooking on the stove.

After taking a moment to stretch and wake up, you found your way to your work desk, leaving you now half-focused on a cover draft you’d been tinkering on for days. Of course, the email exchange with him had been as headache inducing as ever. Rohan’s last complaint was about the texture—that's right, texture—of the chapter title, which he claimed clashed with the “authenticity” of his work. Whatever the fuck that meant.

It had taken everything in you not to type back your resignation then and there. Instead, you’d sighed, saved the draft, and went back to fiddling with the opacity of the grain overlay. The grain overlay he specifically asked for, by the way. The one it seemed was causing the inauthentic texture? Yeah, that grain overlay.

You were frustrated beyond reason with Rohan Kishibe, so by all accounts, it was a normal day… at least until the knock at your door.

You frowned, pushing your chair back from the desk. You weren't expecting anyone… Your landlord wasn’t the type to drop by unannounced, and the delivery of pen tips you’d been waiting for wasn’t due until tomorrow.

The knock came again, louder this time.

You haphazardly set aside the project in front of you, crossing the small space of your apartment to glance through the peephole. What you saw made you pause.

The man standing outside your door was… intimidating, to say the least. Broad shoulders, tall frame, a long white coat draped over his figure. His face was sharp, angular, almost too perfect, and his expression completely unreadable.

For a moment, you hesitated. Opening the door to strangers wasn’t exactly a habit of yours, especially ones who looked like they could crush you with a flick of their wrist. And yet, something about him piqued your curiosity.

You nudged the door open just enough to see him clearly, your hand tightening on the edge of the frame as the secondary chain locked the door into place, keeping it open just a crack.

“Can I help you?” you asked, keeping your tone neutral, even if he did look odd for a telemarketer.

The man’s gaze flicked down to meet yours, and you were struck by how intense his eyes were, as if he’d never heard a joke a day in his life.

“Are you (y/n) (y/l/n)?” His voice was low, calm, but with an edge of authority that made it clear he wasn’t asking for small talk.

Your initial response was to lie, to deny any connection to the name, but his presence made you falter. He didn’t look like someone you could easily brush off.

“I am,” you said cautiously. “Why are you asking?”

He reached into the pocket of his coat and pulled out a badge, holding it up for you to see. “Jotaro Kujo. I’m with the Speedwagon Foundation. I need to ask you a few questions about a recent case we’re investigating.”

Speedwagon? You thought the name rang a faint bell. If they did exist, though, you’d never had any direct dealings with them, and you couldn’t fathom why any foundation would be interested in you.

Still, you weren’t about to let some stranger into your home without more information, badge or not.

“Do you have any proof of what you’re saying?” you asked, eyeing him warily, but politely.

Jotaro seemed to expect the question, as his expression remained unchanged. Silently, he pulled out a folded piece of paper from his coat and slid it through the doors opening; it was an official document, stamped and signed, detailing his investigation into a series of murders in Morioh.

“Murder?” You asked, pushing the door in slightly to unlatch the chain, opening it to speak with him further. He didn't seem interested in coming inside, thankfully, so you just stood in the entryway as he nodded.

“We’re looking into a man named Yoshikage Kira. You may not know him personally, but we’ve found evidence suggesting you worked with him in the past.”

You frowned, your mind racing to recall the name. “Kira…?”

Jotaro continued, expressionless. “He approached you for a business card design some time ago, a rather bland one. This would have been before you transitioned to digital work, according to our information.”

If this Kira wasn’t connected to you through your professional life, you might have been a bit more sceptical of the man at your door, but your website was nothing if not thorough about your work journey. That bio was how you got clients, after all; it was practically your resume—including details like when you’d obtained your degree, the time you spent working in various physical locations, and the date you’d taken the leap to digital freelance. You were probably a murder investigator's dream witness, all that information laid with little effort required.

And, on top of that, you didn't explicitly share the names of your clients. Jotaro had to have obtained that information through some sort of legitimate channel, even if you didn't know what this Speedwagon thing was.

To hammer the point home, there was also the fact you had definitely designed that business card. The memory clicked into place as soon as he said the word ‘bland.’ Kira had been a client of yours, though you wouldn’t have remembered if the man hadn’t brought it up. He’d been quiet, unassuming, and incredibly dull. You’d even joked to yourself at the time that designing for him had been worse than watching paint dry—it was that lifeless, devoid of any need for creativity, lacking any real challenge.

“I remember him,” you admitted, folding your arms. “But I didn’t know anything about him beyond what he told me about the design. He seemed… normal.”

Jotaro’s jaw tightened slightly, as if he’d heard that word too many times. “We believe he’s connected to the murders. Your interaction with him may provide us with valuable insight. Would you be willing to meet with another member of our team to discuss this further?”

You hesitated. The idea of being involved in a murder investigation was unsettling, to say the least. And yet, Jotaro’s demeanor made it hard to refuse. There was something about him that demanded attention, that made you feel like he wouldn’t take no for an answer. Besides, this was your town he was talking about. Any second thoughts you might have had were overshadowed by a sense of obligation, if you could help, you should.

“Where?” you asked, your voice less cautious now.

“I’m staying at a hotel in town,” he replied. “We’ll meet there. There’s another individual working on the case—a sketch artist—who might be able to help jog your memory.”

The mention of another person made you feel slightly less apprehensive, but still, you weren’t entirely convinced.

“I’ll need a bit more proof before I agree to anything else,” you said, crossing your arms politely. “But I would be more than happy to help.”

“What proof would you request?” He asked bluntly, but with no judgement in his voice. Maybe he was used to people being apprehensive around him, he had to be if this was how he acted at all times.

You thought for a second, if this was a private investigation, he likely had no interactions with official law enforcement. As upfront as he had been about whatever foundation sent him here, he had never said the word ‘police.’ Honestly, this was probably the biggest cause for your hesitation, but that didn't necessarily mean he was lying to you.

“Something that proves I’m not a sole witness, maybe details of why Kira is a suspect, anything that validates what you’ve told me.” You replied.

Jotaro’s eyes rolled up as he contemplated for a moment, the tension broken once he reached into his coat again, this time pulling out a small stack of papers.

“Will these work?” He asked as he handed them to you, hands brushing yours slightly. Large hands… large, attractive hands, you noticed.

Not the time. Besides, you were skimming through the pages as soon as the thought arose. The documents detailed Kira’s known movements, his interactions with various people in Morioh—including your own name listed among them.

It was enough to convince you that Jotaro wasn’t just some lunatic with a badge.

“Yes they will,” you said finally, though your tone was reluctant. “When should I come by? And, uh, where?”

“Tomorrow afternoon,” Jotaro said, taking out a small notepad and pen. “I’ll leave you the details.”

You nodded, still feeling a hint of unease surrounding the whole situation. As Jotaro turned to leave, you couldn’t help but watch him walk to his vehicle, your thoughts straying inappropriately once again. He had been intimidating, yes, but also undeniably attractive and authoritative in a way that made you hate yourself just a little. For a fleeting moment, you even caught yourself thinking about hooking up with the man, but of course you disregarded the thought as soon as it arose.

Figures, you thought to yourself. The hottest man you’d seen in months shows up at your door, and it’s because of a murder investigation. If all detectives looked like him, though, you’d probably commit a few more crimes just to be interrogated.

After clearing the thought entirely, you finally shut the door and leaned against it, letting out a long sigh. Tomorrow was going to be… interesting.

But you still had work to do today.

comment if you want to be a part of a taglist, always more than happy to do one :)

-> read other works and progress announcements on my masterlist !!

[blueluneacy]

Oooof could I request some 4taro x reader where she has a thicc stand that allows her to control water, and she uses it to make water chains strong enough to hold both him and star plat down, and she and her stand just proceed to dom the ever living shit out of the two of them??? He would be so fucking salty about it because he's the dominant one. But in the back of his mind he's like "oh shit, this actually isn't half bad."

DAMN BOI SHE THICC

Warnings: bondage, inappropriate use of stands, jackin ur boi off

“(Y/n), you will release me this instant.” Jotaro’s voice was a low growl, but he couldn’t scare you. You chuckled as you watched Star Platinum struggle under your chains, effectively forcing Jotaro onto his back on the floor. 

“Will I now? You sure sound quite confident of that statement, JoJo. I think I’d like to test that theory of yours, my dear.” You replied, chuckling as you moved to straddle your lover, feeling him up a bit. While the two of you were about to have sex, you had become bored of the old routine. You decided you would shake things up a bit. And while Jotaro went into fight or flight mode at first, thinking that perhaps against all odds, you had been influenced by an enemy stand user. But once he saw the way you moved to climb on top of him, as well as your forehead being clean of any influence from old adversaries, he relaxed slightly. You were the type to always pull a trick or three, and now was no exception. You just chuckled as you watched Jotaro roll his eyes.

“Good grief… You could’ve just asked beforehand rather than giving me half a heart attack.” He grumbled, but you just snickered as you pulled off his boxer briefs, revealing Jotaro’s half hard cock.

“I don’t know. Something tells me you might like the surprise of it all.” You teased, leaving Jotaro to roll his eyes. 

“You’re insane.” He replied, but you smirked as you heard his voice hitch as you wrapped your hand around his cock, teasing him slowly.

“Am I? Well, you’re the one who’s dating me.” You giggled, starting to slowly pump Jotaro’s cock, watching the way his back arched. You glanced over to Star Platinum, giggling as you saw a similar reaction from him. Stands really are wonderful that way, aren’t they? You chuckled a bit and upped the ante, watching your boyfriend start to squirm and writhe.

“Does that feel good, JoJo? Why don’t you tell me how you’re feeling right now.” You cooed, watching Jotaro bite his lip to messily hold back a groan.

“I-I… It feels so… Ah, (Y/n), right there, god…” Jotaro’s eyes were rolling back in pleasure, trying to buck up into the feeling of your soft hand, only for you to chuckle and use your stand to hold down his hips.

“My oh my… What a needy thing. I wonder what would happen if I just… Left you here like this.” You spoke idly, slowing down your movements as Jotaro’s eyes widened.

“You wouldn’t dare.” He tried to growl, but his voice was rather breathy, husky from his panting and his lip bloody from him digging his own teeth into it.

“Oh? Wouldn’t I?” You removed your hand and started to get up, only for Jotaro to double take, immediately trying to bargain with you for you to go back to touching him.

“C-Come on, (Y/n). Don’t leave me like this. Isn’t that a bit… Cruel of you?” He tried, still trying to save a smidge of his pride. You chuckled, idly thinking to yourself before giving your lover an ultimatum.

“Hmm.. How about this then? Promise me that for tonight, you’ll be my good boy, and…” You leaned in to his ear, cooing sweetly. “I’ll make you cum so much you won’t even remember your own name.” The offer made Jotaro shudder, your warm breath inexplicably nice against his ear.

“I-I… Alright then. If that’s what you want.” He rolled his eyes, but his voice was nervous, almost a whimper. You chuckled and wrapped your hand around his cock, watching as the man quickly devolved into his own grunts and groaned. You gave him no mercy, easily jacking him off as you watched Jotaro writhe and give into his own pleasure.

“G-God, (Y/n), I’m close, please, I need to cum. Please!” Jotaro moaned out. You tutted slightly. He was still so demanding after all this, but progress was progress. You sighed, nodding kindly.

“Alright Jotaro, you’ve been a good boy so far. Cum for me, show me how much you need me.” You replied, and Jotaro just groaned, his eyes rolling back as he cum all over your hand and his stomach, leaving him breathless. You humed a bit, pulling your hand away from him and bringing your tongue to lave over your fingers, chuckling as you saw Jotaro shudder. 

You smiled. He was just so cute like this, his form causing a pleasant throb in your own body. After a moment, you wrapped your hand around Jotaro’s cock again, starting to quickly get him hard again.

“N-Ngh, (Y/n), I’m still sensitive, what are you, mm!” Jotaro groaned, throwing his head back as you laughed.

“My oh my. You told me you would be a good boy, didn’t you? So let me fulfill my end of the deal.” 

[danddymaro]

Before I Go | Jean Pierre Polnareff x Reader

Set during Part 5. AU Where sweet Baby Polnareff doesn’t get fucked and instead gets a happy ending, surviving Diavolo.  

Kind of, sorta angsty (???)

Thoughts are italics in quotations = ‘Example’

Flashbacks are in italics = Example

Word count:  2395

Before I Go

“ How was I supposed to tell him?” She said quietly as a soft, little look of remembrance touched with sadness melted onto her features as she remembered each and every time the question went over her head,

‘How Polnareff? How could I have even stood before you ?’ She asked herself, not knowing how she could ever come to face him again.

By then, the stark night was illuminated by the large glowing moon, the only light that could lovingly touch her now, something she detested with a passion, because it just reminded her of how seldom her life would remain while stuck lurking in the darkness.

Furthermore, it reminded her of  her loss of humanity,

“ How was I supposed to admit that the entire time we’d been together, I had been nothing but a monster,” She revealed, her (e/c) eyes glaring down at her open palm, her overgrown nails, both pointed and black coming into perfect view as she brought her fingers down, forming a tight, shaking fist.

“Every time he’d look at me, he'd know I was just as revolting as those two…” She said while sucking in a harsh breath, “ Those...two…” She added through her tightened teeth, unable to finish her sentence, woeful tears leaking from her (e/c) eyes as she recalled the events which took place many years ago.

Suddenly calming, she then let loose of her tightened fist, her shoulders coming down in a slacking state during the process,

“It's been years and I haven't heard a word from him,” she started, continuing to speak to the golden haired teen to reveal all of her truths, “ But to be fair, I hadn’t really searched much,” she admitted, “Because...well... I was too afraid he’d know I was still around. ”

It was then that she cracked a small smile, a very minuscule one that showed tenderness,

“ He'd no doubt found a wife,” She doted, certainty in her (e/c) drops. “... someone to share little moments with, just as he'd always dreamed of. - All like he said he would one day.” She said with a touch of amusement, remembering how everyone would roll their eyes at his flirtatious nature,

‘ He was such a romantic...’

“ And of course....I can imagine him with so many children,” she said smiling, her voice cracking in between the sentence, because she’d always wanted to have children as well.

“ I can see him playing with them, both arms outstretched as he spins them around,” she added with a hiccup, shaking it off with an unsteady chuckle instead to try and drive away the unbearable pain in her chest,

‘ Just like with sherry...like you said you'd done so many times…’ She recalled with fondness.

“ I miss those days, those few days we knew each other, because while they hadn’t been the longest, I can admit without a shadow of a doubt that I'd never been happier than I was at that point in my life!” She confessed, her arms tightly hugging her own figure.

‘Every day we struggled to make it to the next, and even then I’d never smiled so much. I’d never been so damn happy than when I with all of them... Especially you Polnareff,’  She thought while thinking back to all of the men she’d traveled with. 

She missed jabbing Jotaro until he grew annoyed, physically poking him out of boredom until he fought her back, doing just the same out of rebuttal. Occasionally, she’d catch his scowl take a turn, twitching into a smile during his own attack.

“Good Grief,” He’d mutter, “You’re so annoying!” He huffed in between his assault.

She missed hearing Kakyoin jabber on about his gaming strategies, promising they’d one day play together. There was a smugness to him during his talks that she found funny, because he was sure no one could really beat his technique, no matter what video game they’d pick. 

“You know,” Noriyaki started, “I’ve never really played against anyone else,” He admitted, “Not with a friend,” He added, smiling at her with appreciation for even bothering to take interest in something he had a passion for.

She missed Avdol’s calm, warm air, and the ease she had when she was around him. Out of all of them, he felt the closest to family, being the wise one, the level headed one she could ask for advise and trust with her life, 

‘I never had a doubt you’d give yours for one of ours,’ She thought as she remembered him with fondness, appreciating his sacrifice, the very one that kept her from falling into Vanilla Ice’s mercy. 

The same one that kept Polnareff out of danger more than once...

She missed Mr. Joestar’s pleasant company, always beaming as he’d lay a hand over her head as a little act of affection he’d grown accustomed to doing. She also enjoyed his stories, listening on attentively to them with amazement, 

“You know...” Joseph said while looking down at his prosthetic, feeling just a smidge bashful at his admittance, “ Sometimes I feel like no one listens to this old fool,” He confessed to her. “For a long time now, even Holly seemed to grow tired of me, focusing more on her own life,” He said while offering (f/n) a soft smile, “ Thank you for listening (f/n). Thank you for taking the time,” He added, laying his hand over  her head, scuffling up her combed (h/c) strands while she responded with a happy smile, truly at peace.

‘I even miss that gas machine Iggy,’ She mused, loving the tenderness he showed when they were left alone,

“Why can’t you be this sweet all the time,” she asked the creature while pouting, touching the little sensitive spot behind his ear, “It wouldn’t hurt to stop acting so tough,” She suggested, watching as the Frenchie scoffed, nonetheless staying still to keep being caressed.

And then there was Polnareff, the man who she simply could not let go of, no matter how much time progressed. 

- The same man who currently hid from her, the entire time sitting in disbelief as he heard her voice.

Listening on, the silver-haired male closed his eyes tightly, keeping himself hidden away from her, listening on to the woman as she poured her heart out to Giorno.

‘I hadn’t forgotten you either.’ He thought to himself, having spent nights with the same heartache, yearning for the woman he thought had died back in Cairo at the hands of the golden-haired fiend.

“ Is that why you helped us?” Giorno asked, his voice soft as he stared at the woman with interest, finally having understood her strange behavior. "Just to find him again," He added with a soft smile lifting up his features, truly taken by the dedication that existed within her.

With a somber nod, she confirmed it.

“It’s also why you only showed yourself during the night,” He added with understanding.

“Precisely,” She said with a soft blow of air coming out from her nostrils, “I did all I could to aid you,” She said lowly, " Just know, I’m sorry I couldn’t do more,” She added with regret, knowing there were none but three of them left.

"Yeah," he responded back with the same gentleness.

In the end, he couldn't blame her for what happened, especially not now that he understood her restrictions.

“ I  just wanted to see him one last time,” she admitted, “ One last time before…” stopping herself, she swallowed thickly, instead, trailing her eyes up to the full moon where in the morning the sun would soon arise,

“ Before?” Giorno asked her, urging her to continue.

Looking at him straight on, the woman smiled wholeheartedly, her eyes shut tight as  a large grin itched over her face, painfully being forced to stay,

" Before I let the sun rise over me. Before I turn to nothing but ash," She revealed to him.

" I wanted to see him one more time before I go.

 I haven't found happiness in all this time, and I doubt I'll ever come to hold it within my chest again." She added.

“ I don't mind him looking away from me, not when even I can’t stand the sight of my own figure.” She spoke with the same melancholy,  “ At this point, I don't care if he detests me, because I've lived with that thought every day for years.

I know he’d despise me.

The only comfort I have from that is that I know that once he finds out what I've become, he'd be much happier knowing I was dead. And then...then I could make him happy just once before I die. "

The teen’s Green eyes open wide as he heard her, his  mouth opened up to speak before another voice cut him off,

“Tch! Are you insane?” Polnareff said out loud, barking at her as he revealed himself to her, his arms straining to push his chair forward.

“P-pol…” she couldn't finish, her eyes grazing over the filthy murky silver of his chair, and then his artificial limbs that were now useless.

Stopping, she held in a breath, her heart stilled at his miserable sight,

"I don't care about any of that !" He cried out to her, having willed himself right to her, his two hands tightly grasping hers to pull her down.

"Pol-" she couldn't finish her surprised outburst before she fell down to him, his lips immediately latching onto  hers.

Through his shut eyes, crystal droplets escaped, mixing with her two falling streams as they traveled down, their paths once again coming together to taste bittersweet,

“I could care less...” He murmured between their mashed lips,  “Mon amour,” he muttered softly, drawing back slightly to gaze into her (e/c) colored eyes,  the pad of his thumb brushing over the flesh of her lips, both top and bottom, relishing in the softness of them, something he hadn’t been able to do in the past, despite all the overwhelming desire he'd had during those days.

“Do you know what my life has been without you?” he asked her, moving his hand to take a hold of the side of her face, collecting her tears and gently  wiping them away,

“Do you know how many pieces my heart shattered into?” he added, a shuttered breath leaving him as he thought back to the last night he'd seen her,

He moved too slow, his royal blue eyes watching with horror as her body curled onto the large arm impaling her, clean going through her.

Frozen, he watched while she was then  thrown aside, her beaten body rolling across the concrete ground. A trail of red was painted upon the empty road, starting from the woman’s carcass, and leading back to DIO.

"(f/n)! " He cried out, crawling towards her, his vision blurred as he stared at her longer.

Pushing himself he cried out in lament as he stopped, his sluggish body unable to move further,

"I couldn't help Jotaro," He mumbled, his cheek pressed against the chipped , concrete ground,

"I couldn't save Avdol.

I couldn't  save Iggy.

I wasn't there for Kakyoin.

I couldn't even reach out to Mr. Joestar .

And now....Now... (f/n)… I can't even make my way towards you,"  

He said while tightly shutting his eyes, the smothering embrace of slumber taking over, his last thoughts on the woman  slain a few feet before him.

Silently signaling both Trish and Mista, Giorno took his leave, deciding it best to leave the other two to themselves, sparing one last glance at them with a placid smile, wishing them the best. 

"- I searched for you," Polnareff  told (f/n), "The first thing I did was look for you when I woke up in the hospital," he revealed to her. " But by then you were gone. Jotaro said that you were gone when he went back, and we didn't know what to think of it." He went on,

"Last I knew you'd been struck by him... You'd been beaten bloody...

After that, I would have never imagined you alive," he said with relief.

"But here you are," he marveled at her, seeing how little she'd changed, retaining all of the beauty she possessed in the past, and in fact,  growing even more stunning now.

"I am, "she said back to him, " I am here...but I'm a monster nonetheless," She told him. "He'd given me his blood and whether or not I knew of it, it doesn't change the fact that I -"

"That I love you." he interrupted her, " It doesn't change the fact that I love you.” He flat out told her, “ It doesn’t change that I'd thought of you every day since then. That no matter how much time passed by, I could never find it in myself to even look at another woman." He went on,

"(f/n) ," he started, his face soft and uncertain, a gentle, rosy color rising over his face as he continued to look up at her, reminding her of the past version of himself that was still young,

"You're nothing like him.” he assured her, “ You're no monster, because all in all, you're still (f/n). You're still my dream, " He admitted.

Grasping both her hands, he took them up to his lips, kissing them sweetly, his blue eye gazing up at her with unwavering love,

"I've spent years without you, having been unable to tell you in the past how much I loved you.

I know I'm only a fraction of the man I was before, and so much time has gone by. 

But...

But (f/n), I'd still love to spend the rest of my days with you. Grow old at your side. " He told her.

Her hand rose to take hold of his cheek, caressing it tenderly before drawing in towards him, answering him with a sweet kiss in return,

'I can't grow old.

I can never live a normal life...but even so, even while knowing,

you still propose such a thing to me,' She mused.

"If you still love me the way I am... If you'll still want to spend the rest of your life with me, then I want nothing more than to live in that future,

With you Polnareff,"  She said with happiness.

The warmth of his body radiated to hers, and for a fraction of a second she felt the same as she did before, 

Alive and human… 

Happy and accepted...

“I love you,” He said while not taking his eye off of her, never wanting to go another day without his love.

“Forever... and always,” He said with evident adoration.

[jojo-daydreams]

Can I get some Jotaro x Reader n/s/f/w? Reader is Jotaro's former college roommate and now about to be smol Jolyne's step-mom and Jolyne is with her mom rn and reader and Jotaro were reminiscing about their college lives and they end up having the sex?

here u go anon!!

i tried my very best ◍´Д‵◍

N// S// F// W// below the cut!

————————————

When you walk into your shared bedroom, you see your fiancé sitting on the bed, laptop in his lap, typing away. It’s a familiar site for you, you’d walked into Jotaro’s room on many an occasion just to relax with him while he worked diligently on whatever Fish Thing currently had his attention.

Smiling, you flop down next to him.

“Whatcha workin’ on?”

He just hums in response, clearly not listening.

You poke his ribs gently, finally getting his attention.

“Good grief, what is it?” He says, sighing as he closes his laptop.

“Excuse you, is that any way to talk to the Future Mrs. Kujo?” You tease.

At that he cracks a smile, eyes softening just a smidge.

“Hmm, when’s she is acting like a child, maybe it is.” He says, reaching over to grab the hand that had just been jabbing at his ribcage. He holds it for a moment, his free hand placing his laptop on the nightstand before reaching back over to gently touch the engagement ring on your finger, his expression unreadable as he stares down at it silently. You wait a few moments, but decide to speak up when he still says nothing.

“Jojo?”

Jotaro hums in response, tearing his eyes away from the ring to look at your face.

“It’s been a long time since you called me that.” He says, and though his tone is neutral sounding theres still a look in his eyes you just can’t seem to place.

You grin. That’s true, you used to call him Jojo all the time in college. The two of you had been thick as thieves back then, or at least, as close to that as someone as stubborn and withdrawn as Jotaro could be. You’d been good friends though, and you’d missed him when he seemingly vanished from your life after graduation- saying something about a ‘Speedwagon Foundation’. You didn’t really realize the full extent of your feelings for him until he was gone, and it’d been crushing for you when you did, only to hear through the grapevine that he was married with a kid on the way.

Your grin fades a bit as you remember that time in your life. It had been pretty rough for you, though you knew it wasn’t Jotaro’s fault and you never blamed him for that ache you’d carried around all those years. Or at least, rationally you didn’t. How was the man supposed to know you were madly in love with him, you’d been his roommate for a bit over two years of your time at college, and you’d never said anything. Sure, the two of you had flirted a bit here and there, but it was never anything serious.

“Why are you frowning?”

You barely manage to keep yourself from jumping as his nearly concerned voice snaps you out of your thoughts, his face was closer now than before and he looked a bit worried, brow pinched, his hands still holding yours warmly.

“It’s nothing.” You reply, flashing him a smile, “Just thinking about… everything I guess. Never really thought I’d be. Well. Mrs. Kujo.”

He tilts his head at your words, eyes searching your face.

“Cold feet?”

You shake your head quickly.

“No! Of course not! I just meant, like, College Me probably never would have guessed it. She’d be surprised I think.” You say with a chuckle. She really would be shocked, in all honesty. You hadn’t thought of him that way back then, or at least you tried not to. You think that you must’ve been afraid of ruining the friendship you two had. You don’t think you would’ve made it through college without Jotaro’s supporting you.

Jotaro looks at you for a moment, eyes narrowing, before he suddenly lunges forward, pinning you to the bed and looking down at you, his eyes betraying a hint of something smoldering beneath his calm exterior.

“Well, College Jotaro wouldn’t be. He’d probably be pretty excited.” Jotaro says, his warm breath ghosting over your face as you raise a brow at his words.

Oh?

“Oh? Is that so?” You tease, batting your eyelashes in a rather over-exaggerated manner.

“It is, he’d probably be mad at me for taking so long. But he’d also probably be happy he finally gets to sleep with his hot roommate.”

You turn your head to the side, trying not to laugh right into his face at that. Something about Jotaro saying that with such a straight face had you giggling, though you try to contain it. Jotaro ignores the chuckles that manage to slip out, and starts pressing kisses along your jaw, entirely undeterred, mixing in a few gentle bites as he makes his way down to the column of your throat, and your laughter turns into soft gasps.

You whine when you feel one of his hands slide under your long shirt, moving up to cup your breast. His thumb drags across your hard nipple and you sigh, your hands curling against the sheets. He teases you for a few more moments, then withdraws his hand, straightening up for a moment to remove his shirt, and with a bit of wiggling and cooperation on your part, he removes yours too, and you’re left in just your underwear.

Jotaro wastes no time once your shirt is out of the way, leaning back down to alternate between sucking and tweaking your nipples. You moan at sensations, just a bit of pinch and then his tongue soothing it over, your legs clench involuntarily, and you’re already embarrassingly wet. You blame it on the fact you think the idea of Jotaro finding you hot back in college has you feeling some kind of way.

You draw in a deep breath, trying to focus on something other than how good he’s making you feel.

“Did you ever… y’know, get off thinking about me just down the hall back then?” You ask, and it comes out weaker and more breathy than you’d intended.

Jotaro stops, leaning back to look at you for a brief moment. But he doesn’t reply, instead grabbing you by the hips and dragging you up the bed a bit more and removing your underwear in a fluid motion.

“Answer me Jotar-oooh” You start to prompt him again but you cut yourself off with a moan when he slides a finger inside you, crooking it and rubbing over that spot that already has you seeing stars.

“Did I ever get off thinking about you? Don’t ask stupid questions. Of course I did.” He says hotly, practically growling it at you, adding another finger and sliding them both in and out slowly. You’re already so wet it’s so easy for him, and the lewd sounds of it combined with Jotaro’s words, his tone, have you blushing madly.

“I would have dreams about you. I’d wake up in the morning craving you. I wanted to kiss you so many times I thought I was going to go insane.”

You moan helplessly, unable to do much else. Jotaro removes his fingers after a few more moments and frees his cock from his pants, lining it up with your entrance, continuing his uncharacteristic dirty talk as he thrusts into you.

“I used to fantasize about eating you out on that couch that we always shared when we watched tv. I can’t even count all the times I thought about bending you over the kitchen counter and fucking you until you couldn’t walk. Did you really have no idea how I felt, how I looked at you?”

He groans as as he bottoms out, and you feel so fucking full, so fucking stretched, you reach up for him, scrambling to find some purchase. You end up digging your nails into the skin of his back, earning another groan from Jotaro as your hands slide down, angry red lines raising in their wake. Later when you see the marks you’ll probably be embarrassed, but right now you’re honestly not having any coherent thoughts. All you can think about is how hot you feel, how hot Jotaro feels above you, and how good it feels as he fucks you, his hips slapping against yours roughly. You wonder if it’s going to bruise, but honestly don’t really care if it does.

You moan as Jotaro speeds up his rhythm, the bed springs starting to creak. You reach down with one hand to stroke your clit, you’re so fucking close, you just need that last push. Jotaro seems to sense this, and he leans ever closer, and now your bodies are practically entirely pressed together.

“Come for me, I want to hear it.” he says, and that’s enough to push you over the edge. You gasp, moaning his name so loud you’re quite sure the whole neighborhood can hear you, eyes clenching shut as your orgasm hits you.

Jotaro thrusts into you a few more times, helping your ride out your orgasm, before burying himself as deep he can and letting out a groan as he spills himself inside of you, his whole body tensing for a moment. He shudders once, twice, then goes limp against you.

You remove your hand from between the two of you as he relaxes, letting some of his weight rest on you carefully as you both pant, his head dropping to your shoulder. When he pulls out you twitch a bit, you feel kind of empty now, and you can feel some of his cum seeping out, probably making even more of a mess of the poor bed. The hand that had been scratching up his back slides up into his sweaty hair, carding through it affectionately. You’ll worry about the sheets later.

When you finally find your voice again, you speak softly, a sly grin on your face.

“I would’ve really enjoyed letting you eat me out on the couch. It’s not too late for that, really.”

You can hear Jotaro muttering a muffled good grief against the bare skin of your shoulder, and his breath tickles you a bit.

“Insatiable. You’re insatiable. Give me a break.”

“I’m just saying. We do own a couch.”