#jojo’s bizarre adventure diamond is unbreakable | Explore Tumblr Posts and Blogs

beneathashadytree · 2 years

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hello love, I hope you’re doing well! I just want to let you know I am absolutely in love with your writing style. it’s always such a pleasure to read and I truly enjoy everything I read off your page. thank you for blessing us with your talents! your page is one of my favorites.

that being said, I have a request for a jotaro kujo x female reader. the storyline would be set during the events of part four, during morioh shenanigans.

jotaro has an old friend who had joined the crew during stardust crusaders (a rocker chick with an idgaf attitude). who absolutely hated jotaro (the way he disrespected women, the way he treated others, etc, etc) and joined the crusaders for the sole purpose of proving she was more of an asset than jotaro. during which they bickered nonstop, (literally the nastiest arguments, name calling, etc). only when it came to fighting dio they worked together to get it done and ended up putting their differences aside to become friends. clearly there’s romantic tension there, but despite a few friendly moments nothing comes of the feelings and they set off. ( they’re basically rivals turned friends, but she still likes to piss him off for fun).

years later she gets a call from jotaro asking for her help in morioh, which she very sarcastically accepts. upon her arrival their relationship is more of a sarcastic banter. (her sarcastic witty comments solely to annoy jotaro and him huffing and gruffing). but their feelings quickly return and there’s so much tension. like, awkward tension that neither of them can deny and the entire morioh gang can point it out. finally, they have a heart to heart - and very awkwardly open up to one another over a bottle of booze. they seal it with a kiss, and shenanigans ensue.

TEN YEARS - JOTARO KUJO X READER

Warnings : lots of curse words, misogyny from 17 year-old Jotaro, implications of death, I changed a couple of minor details in canon to fit this, this is not proofread at all, reader uses she/her pronouns!

Genre : fluff with some angst I think

Word count : 4.5K words (oops!)

Additional notes : Aaaaa thank you so so much for your sweet words! I’m so happy to hear that you enjoy my writing. I feel so flattered by your kindness! In all honesty, this request goes against my requesting rules🫣 The length required for such a heavily detailed, canon-non-compliant request means writing no less than 4K words (that’s after skimming over some points too😭), which is the typical length of a ficlet, not a oneshot (which ranges from 1K to 2.5K words). I’m sorry to say this but I have stopped taking requests for ficlets over a year ago🫠 I did feel terrible, however, not taking this request, since you’d been so sweet and nice about it. But please be sure to check out my rules and guidelines before requesting! I like to stick to them to prevent a burnout, and to make sure that I don’t end up taking too long writing one piece only. Nevertheless, I thank you very much for the unique idea. I really hope you like this! 💗💗

Requests : Are open! Check the rules over here.

Want to support me financially? Here’s my CashApp.

Masterlist

“So you called me up, just to bring me to your hotel room?” She raised her eyebrow, before tossing her bag onto one of the two chairs by the window. “See, that wasn’t the sort of ‘help’ I had in mind when I’d accepted your invitation.”

Dr. Kujo—or as she knew him to be, Jotaro—could do nothing but roll his eyes. She’d always liked to make a flashy entrance, with more than a few choice words ready on the tip of her tongue.

“I don’t want to know what you’ve pictured.” He sighed, moving from where he stood by the mahogany desk. “Have you heard from Polnareff recently?”

“A little.” She shrugged, a little stiffly, as though the idea of thinking of their troupe back in Egypt wasn’t something she liked to entertain. Crossing her legs, she watched as he pulled something from his jacket. “Last I heard, he was looking for Dio’s arrows, but that’s about it.”

He handed her what looked like a photograph. Squinting her eyes a little, she tried to make out just what she was seeing. “Now, I’m sure seeing me all cross-eyed has you shaking in your boots with excitement, but—“

Jotaro only huffed, a small impatient noise that she’d barely heard. At that, she quirked her eyebrow. That was rather odd. She’d come to get used to his snarky, biting remarks that left no one unscathed—least of all a woman.

“Gone soft, have you? I’d thought you’d have my ass the very second I opened my mouth,” she grinned wickedly, as Jotaro glanced away for a second.

Good. She’d always liked it when he was too flustered to say anything.

Her happiness didn’t last long though. Clearing his throat, his gaze didn’t meet hers and instead focused on the photograph in her hand. “‘s not like you were short in comebacks for everything.”

To her admittance, she felt a spark of irritation. “Well, don’t expect me to sit back and take it. If you had a stick lodged up your ass, that wasn’t any of my business.”

“I’m not here to fight over stuff that happened ten years ago,” he firmly said, before his shoulders relaxed and his voice grew a little quieter, though he remained expressionless. “I was under the impression that we’d… gotten along decently near the end.”

“If you’re trying to say we were friends by the time we faced off Dio, then alright, I’d say we might have been, by a very loose definition of the word.”

A very, very loose definition, given how they’d started out and how they’d ended up.

***

Her family had always been a quaint one, especially by the modern Japanese standards. Rock music had come in a wave that hit her father, and his passion for the genre had infected her, to the extent that it manifested in her stand, Flick of the Wrist, which was her special Rickenbacker bass that could deal serious damage to her opponents eardrums by strumming at too low a frequency.

She’d often gotten stared at by others her age, especially during high school, when she’d hit the arcades on the weekend in her clothes that always garnered attention. Perhaps they’d feared anything that was different—though that fear mixed with respect whenever they stared at Jotaro, who was just as odd by their standards.

Loathe she was to admit just how petty she had been, she truly did despise Jotaro from the very first moment she’d met him during orientation day. She’d never gone out of her way to speak to someone who constantly looked like they had a ten foot pole lodged up their ass, but she’d observed the way he’d interacted with the other students—or rather, the way he hadn’t interacted with them.

His brisk and cold demeanor wasn’t just off-putting, but it also at times turned extremely disrespectful. Overhearing him yelling insults at the girls who fawned over him every morning was what solidified that image of him in her head, and she wasn’t too keen on changing her mind: Jotaro Kujo was a misogynistic asshole, who’d die alone. It was entirely his fault that when he’d injured both her and that new kid Kakyoin, she’d retaliated and flipped him off, before threatening to leave his ears bleeding and useless. Definitely not her personal dislike for him at play.

Though she’d been an intruder in his home at the time, the dire situation she’d found him in had only garnered him a bit of sympathy from her—and not for himself, but for his poor mother who’d had nothing to do with the whole affair with that Dio person.

When she’d suggested to his grandfather, Joseph that she join in on their travels as an additional stand user to their arsenal, Jotaro’s glower had been murderous. “A bitch like her would get us all killed the moment we step out of Japan,” he’d said, with no more than a glance at her as he turned away. But before he could leave amidst Avdol’s horrified protests, she’d called him a “miserable, pathetic bitch-boy”; something he hadn’t taken kindly to, if him rolling up his sleeves was anything to go by.

Kakyoin had interrupted them before things could escalate into a fist fight they were both more than willing to participate in, but as they’d went on their journey, it seemed more than apparent that both she and Jotaro could never be civil towards each other. Jotaro, with all his pretense of maturity and cool-headedness, often opposed her ideas for no good reason, just wanting to prove how much of an idiot she was to their companions. With the way she wanted to show the others just how superior she was as a fighter, and how she was no sniveling kid that needed rescuing, she always butted heads with him the moment he opened his mouth to speak.

Neither of them seemed to care about holding themselves back from cussing each other out, the vilest insults being spat back and forth. She’d never been one to sit back and take disrespect, but to the others, seeing Jotaro so riled up was something rather surprising. Avdol, ever the pacifist, had a hard time choosing between scolding them both and just sighing in defeat as he watched from the sidelines.

In a surprising turn of events, it was Joseph who’d given them a wake up call. “This pettiness will only end up as a weakness that Dio will definitely exploit.” He’d sounded uncharacteristically stern, his usual grin replaced by a deep-set scowl. “Neither of you will be getting anything done at this rate. If you can’t even pretend to like each other, at the very least put in some effort to work together.”

And so, biting the insides of their cheeks and not-so-subtly exchanging looks of disdain, they’d begun the irksome process of biting back their tongues in the presence of each other. With their respective stands, she could momentarily cause enough panic and auditory pain to distract the enemy while Jotaro beat them to a bloody pulp. The key to doing that was fast reflexes, which both of them thankfully had in abandon. With their brains, it didn’t take very long for them to figure out this strategy.

As much as she thought of him a brute, there was little she could complain about concerning him when it came to fighting. Jotaro had proven time and time again that his brash fighting styles weren’t entirely irrational, and the delicate accuracy of her Flick of the Wrist meshed well with Star Platinum’s sheer power. Perhaps it was the satisfaction of seeing their efforts come to fruition with stand users at their feet, or maybe it was the fact that they were both more inclined to listen to each other’s advice when they were putting their lives on the line, but soon enough they weren’t constantly bickering like cats and dogs did.

Instead, there came a mutual understanding; a sense of peace whenever they could glance at each other and nod, before setting off according to plan. She had found herself offering to switch patrol with him when he looked a little worse for wear, and retrieved his beloved hat whenever it got blasted off mid-fight, watching as he’d used it to hide his flush. Though still a little tactless with his words, Jotaro had draped his jacket over her shivering form many a time at night, and had silently bandaged her ripped wounds when she could no longer hide her hisses of pain.

By the time they’d turned up at Dio’s mansion, she’d known that she could no longer say she hated him. It had been a long time since she’d felt anything worse than brief annoyance towards him, and instead she’d found herself wishing she could just take a break from it all and sit with him in peace. They could talk about whatever they think of without any restraints, or they could relish in the silence that envelopes them, just comforted by each other’s existence in the same bubble.

It had sparked something akin to fondness; something she couldn’t dare think of deciphering; something that had warmth pooling in her belly every time she looked at him as he bravely stood his ground, unrelenting (and then she would be hit, once again, with the reminder that they were both just 17 year-olds at the end of the day, and tossed in a world they don’t quite belong in).

In front of the intimidating mansion that would spell out their future, she’d known that things would change forever, regardless of what would happen as soon as they’d stepped across the threshold. And so she’d turned, facing those piercing sea-green eyes that were lit with something she couldn’t quite put her finger on.

“You know what, Jotaro?” she’d breathed in, clenching her hands into fists as a small smirk made its way onto her face, “I think I’m starting to find you pretty tolerable.”

He’d raised his eyebrow at that, his lips quirking upwards in a small, barely perceptible smile. “That’s news to me.” His tone was light, but she knew that he knew that she was underplaying how she truly felt. He just went along with it, his arm brushing hers. “Well, I don’t think I find you that annoying.”

“Ah, fuck, guess I’m losing my touch.”

“Good grief…”

And then they’d taken the steps forward that could never be undone. No matter how much they’d wish it, no matter how many nightmares it would bring, and no matter how often they tortured themselves with thoughts of the ones they’d left behind, souls drifting in between, they could never turn back time.

From then on, they’d barely spared each other a second glance on the way back. The wounds were too fresh, and the scars unhealing. Perhaps that was the disadvantage of having understood each other that well; they’d known it was unlikely that either of them would be able to face the other without feeling overexposed. So that was how they’d separated in Japan, hearts aching but faces never betraying how they’d felt at the moment. The radio silence that came afterwards was equal parts unnerving and a blessing.

***

So then why did sitting there in the Grand Morioh Hotel room feel like a death sentence?

She could see with her own two eyes how much Jotaro had changed, inside out. The beautiful eyes she’d remembered as being challenging were wisened and even somewhat exhausted, and his figure was a lot slimmer than she recalled it being. His outfits might’ve been brighter, but he seemed all the more duller in them. It was a bit of a reality check; ten years truly had passed.

Perhaps the bitterness she’d felt seconds ago was due to how they’d left things. She felt as though there was much unsaid, and wasn’t sure if it was only on her end.

Still, it wasn’t fair on him. How she felt, at the very least, was her own responsibility and not his. It wasn’t his fault she’d been too cowardly to speak up at the time. But still, would she call them friends?

It didn’t matter at the moment. She cleared her throat. “Anyways, what’s the deal with Dio’s arrows?”

“A couple of them went awry on the town’s residents. Many have had stand awakenings, and not all with the best intentions.” Jotaro paused, before pointing at the blurry photograph in her hand. “It’s not very clear, but this man is one we’re hunting down at the moment. He’s a stand user, and we’ve had our suspicions that he’s actually a serial killer underneath all that shitty fancy fabric.”

“You’re one to talk about fancy fabric, Mr. I-wear-10K-yen-pants-in-the-desert,” she mumbled under her breath, before leaning in and trying to take a better look. The picture was taken from the back and mid-action, so she could barely make out what he looked like with his head turned to the side. His most distinguishing feature was the striking salt and pepper hair that wasn’t exactly common in the way it looked so obviously dyed. “Okay, he seems pretty conspicuous, so why haven’t you been able to catch him?”

“Lack of evidence.” He took the photograph back, before briefly removing his hat and ruffling back his curls, a troubled look flashing in his eyes as he set the hat down again. “That, and the fact that the situation is pretty… complicated.”

Somehow, she understood the hidden meaning lingering beneath his words. “Too many lives at stake?”

Jotaro hummed in confirmation, picking up a white bag from the vanity beside her and shouldering it. “Come, there’s someone I’d like you to meet.”

Though she briefly hesitated, she nodded and went along with him.

***

She didn’t know what she’d expected, but it certainly wasn’t a teenage boy with features nearly identical to Jotaro’s—uncannily so. She’d have called them father and son, if he hadn’t looked a little too old for that.

“That’s my, uh, uncle I guess, Josuke.”

A confused look made its way on her face as she looked back and forth between Jotaro and the boy. “Huh? Don’t you mean the other way around?”

He looked exhausted as he shook his head, “Apparently, Joseph’s his father, so that makes him my uncle despite being 16.”

She blinked, a hand on her hips as she leaned back. “I don’t know what family dynamic this is, and I’m not sure I want to find out.”

“I didn’t know you knew pretty babes, Jotaro. Were you keeping her a secret from us?” the boy interrupted, a cheeky grin on his face, clearly trying to appear charming (which was a little hard to achieve, given that his pompadour haircut was more than a couple of decades out of style).

Smirking, she spared the exasperated-looking marine biologist a glance, before looking back at Josuke. “Just one babe, not plural. I’m probably the only chick Jotaro’s ever interacted with.”

Josuke looked confused. “What? I’m pretty sure he was married at some point.”

She looked momentarily horrified, eyes wide as saucers. “Married?!”

The teenager awkwardly rubbed the back of his neck. “Yeah, and he’s got a 7 year-old daughter. Her name’s Jolyne—“

“Daughter?!” She whipped her head to Jotaro, disbelief written all over her face, “Are you fucking with me? Were you not planning on mentioning any of this?”

“Good grief,” Jotaro sighed, pinching the bridge of his nose as he exhaled through it, “I was married. Past tense. We got divorced a few years after having Jolyne. She’s currently with her mother in Florida.”

“Florida…” she weakly repeated, struck with the realization that she truly knew nothing about the Jotaro in front of her. Though now, things made a little more sense than they did before. The reason why he’d mellowed out must’ve owed to the fact that he’d fallen in love and had a daughter over the years. Both had softened his sharp edges, it seemed, but it certainly caused a pang in her chest as she wondered if he’d ever even felt the same about her back then; after all, it seemed odd that he’d get over her that fast, if she’d done the math correctly and calculated the timeline right.

All she could do was nod, before turning back to Josuke. “Seeing as you’re the old man’s son, you’re probably a stand user, right?”

He looked a little surprised. “You know about them? Do you have one too?”

With a quick swish of her arm, she pulled out Flick of the Wrist that had been slung around her back. “If I strum this bad boy, you’ll be bleeding out from your ears before you can say “damn bitch”—which I assure you, your dearest nephew has called me multiple times.”

“That was then…” Jotaro gruffly said, before shaking his head, as if to say that he wasn’t even going to bother explaining himself. “Anyways, about our suspect…”

***

It quickly became an almost-daily thing; she and Jotaro would leave the hotel (where he’d actually booked her a room, a fact that had both surprised her and made her a little happier than she’d care to admit), meet up with Josuke and a couple of his friends that often tagged along, and discuss their strategy. They’d need to rely on Rohan, something Josuke was more than a little miffed by.

Okuyasu and Koichi were nice enough kids, but they didn’t seem to worry their heads too much. They trusted in the combined stand power of the three of them, which was equal parts heartwarming and naïve.

And Jotaro was… well, Jotaro. He was always that odd mix of enigmatic and straightforward; of unnerving and comforting; of frustrating and amusing. She’d catch him watching the Morioh teens with a half-smile that, a decade ago, he would’ve normally never let show on his face, and she’d grin back at him. “Getting all mushy on me, Dr. Kujo?” she’d say every time, only for him to tell her to shut up without a single ounce of malice.

She’d be lying if she said that she didn’t fear for him. Jotaro’s Star Platinum’s power was almost absolute, especially once The World was activated, but she still feared that it would catch up to him someday. Karmic retribution was very much real, but did it work on people who did seemingly-horrible stuff for the greater good?

“What’s wrong?”

Speak (or in this case, think) of the devil and he appears. Facing him as they stood in Josuke’s front lawn, she allowed herself to express her weariness. “Just thinking a little. Any news from the pissy mangaka?”

“Rohan’s gonna confront the kid. Something’s wrong with that family, but we don’t know what.” Jotaro looked more exhausted than she’d ever seen him, and that was saying something. With bags under his eyes and his curls ruffled beneath his hat, he looked like he was carrying the burdens of the whole world.

She gave him a pointed look. “Really? You’re talking about odd families?”

He glared at her, but she saw no actual anger behind it. His gaze returned to Okuyasu, who was currently being held in a headlock after getting caught cheating on Josuke in a particularly enthusiastic game of cards. “Anyways, we don’t want to potentially endanger someone innocent. His family’s probably unaware, but the kid probably knows something.”

“I hate hearing about kids who’ve been burdened with the knowledge of something bigger than them,” she mumbled under her breath, a little darkness underlying in her expression. When Jotaro turned back to her, he stared at her for a couple of seconds, trying to figure something out.

“You mean like us back then.” He wasn’t asking, he simply stated it. Meeting his eyes was a lot more difficult this time, but she did all the same. Something heavy lingered in them, and she felt herself compelled to lean in closer. Jotaro simply let her, his own eyes darkening. There was something she had to see, but she didn’t know what—all she knew was that getting a closer look at him was something she desperately needed.

“You’d always been braver than you should’ve been,” she murmured, her eyes flickering to his full lips for a moment. Jotaro himself had dipped his head a little closer to hers, before—

“Hey lovebirds, quit it with the PDA! We need you here as refs!” Josuke’s yell came from behind them, causing them to snap backwards and hurriedly shift back to their places. Whatever that was—and she was sure that she hadn’t imagined it this time—could wait.

***

Rohan had set the date. Tomorrow they’d be putting the plan in motion, because waiting any longer only meant that they’d be risking the lives of every resident of Morioh for another day. As a form of celebration, as soon as they’d gotten back to the hotel, she’d suggested they lounge in Jotaro’s room with a couple of beers. He hadn’t protested, but he hadn’t seemed particularly enthusiastic. Maybe he still remembered how she was when she was drunk; shitfaced after guzzling just one beer can.

When she made it inside, she was a little surprised to find that the lights had been dimmed, casting warm shadows across the walls. Instead of the hotel beer cans that she’d expected to find, she found a bottle of wine and two glasses set on the small table by the window.

“Splurging all that scientist money, I see.” She raised her eyebrow, taking a seat and exhaling in relaxation as she did.

Jotaro poured the wine into their glasses, but certainly not without correcting her. “Marine biologist.”

“Doesn’t matter as long as you’re loaded,” she chuckled, only waiting for him to sit in front of her before taking a sip. “This is good. Looks a little odd though.”

“Zinfandel rose wine. There’s a hint of strawberry in that.” He took a sip, a satisfied hum escaping the back of his throat as he did, and she struggled to look away from his Adam’s apple bobbing up and down. “Thought it wouldn’t hurt to enjoy our last night.”

“Already putting me to the grave? You’ll have to work harder to get rid of me.” A flustered sound so uncharacteristic to him left his lips, and it seemed that it took him a couple of seconds to realize that she was only teasing him. “Don’t worry, I know you meant our last night in Morioh. Hopefully.”

They lapsed into silence, contemplative looks on each of their faces. It didn’t take a genius to figure out what the other was thinking of.

“They do remind me of us.” Jotaro’s voice was a lot gruffer when he said that. Perhaps it was just him trying to put up a tough front as he always had.

“Yeah, with significantly less clinically insane vampires, though,” she snorted, swirling the remains of the pink alcohol in her glass.

“Glad we both got rid of the last of those.” Jotaro sounded amused as he reached out to refill their glasses. “Not really sure if it was worth teaming up with you for a whole damn month.”

“Ha!” she chortled, downing half the glass in one gulp before setting it down with a challenging look in her eyes. “You definitely liked me back then.”

He went quiet for a moment, before softly speaking up again. “I did.”

Freezing in place, she gaped at him. “I’m sorry, what?”

“I had feelings for you back then,” he slowly said, brilliant bright eyes meeting hers and pinning her in place.

Her shoulders drooped and her fingers fell from the wine glass. “Well then why didn’t you ever tell me?”

Jotaro almost looked incredulous as he asked, “Was there ever a time for that?” She looked away as he set down his glass too. “We were on a bit of fucking tight schedule.”

“Fine, that’s understandable, but what about after we got to Japan?”

Now it was his turn to look sheepish. “I thought you’d never want to talk to me again. Partially because you hadn’t forgiven me for how I used to be at the start, and partially because you wanted to forget all about the trip.”

“But not about you,” she swallowed thickly, the emotions she’d repressed all these years swelling inside her and threatening to burst, “Because I liked you too, you fucking Neanderthal,” she choked out a laugh, as Jotaro looked nothing short of stunned. “I was too busy wondering why the fuck I wanted to kiss you senseless back then when we were finally getting along well.”

“How was I supposed to know that…” he mumbled weakly, before emptying the glass in one shot. He somehow looked tired and yet also more relaxed than she’d ever seen him, and the fact caused the same swell of affection to bubble in her chest, the warmth spreading to her limbs.

“I thought I was being a little obvious.”

Jotaro shook his head. “If you were, I wouldn’t have thought I had to marry my college friend to get over you, would I?”

So that explained the sudden marriage. It made far more sense (and honestly hurt way less) than believing she’d meant nothing more to him than an ally; someone he’d forgotten overnight. Because only the heavens knew just how impossible he’d made it to forget him—every snarky remark, every witty comeback, every gentle touch, and every ounce of faith in her had made her think of him every night she’d spent on her own, willing the clock to turn back its hands. Eventually, her wistfulness had morphed into a bitter feeling sinking in her chest, and she could no longer afford thinking of him so fondly; not when she still wasn’t over him while he’d disappeared off the face of the earth.

But now? Now Jotaro’s wine-stained lips were inviting in the warm dim lighting of the room. Lost in her thoughts, she hadn’t noticed him taking off his hat and setting it down, ebony curls falling forward and painting him as the picture of enticement. Maybe back when they’d first met she’d disliked him too much to pay it any mind, but Jotaro really had the looks that made her breath catch in her throat. And now that she knew just how tender his sea-green eyes could get when looking at someone, she found him particularly enchanting.

Before she’d even noticed it, she was leaning in across the small table. “If I kissed you now, would I be making my feelings obvious enough?”

If the small smile on his face wasn’t a clear enough invitation, then his hand pushing his drained wine glass out of the way was more than enough of a confirmation.

Resting her weight against the small table, she leaned in so close she could clearly see his thick eyelashes, and he closed the remaining distance between them as her eyes fluttered shut. The first thought in her mind was, ‘Holy fuck, does he taste sweet.’ She didn’t know if it was the wine on his lips, or if he was just a naturally brilliant kisser, but she knew she’d be damned if she ever forgot how kissing him felt. Teasingly, she nipped at his full lower lip, reveling in the deep sound of pleasure that escaped him, and in the way his hand snuck to the back of her neck to pull her in for a deeper kiss.

Much to their mutual disappointment, they soon had to part for air. Breathing heavily, they must’ve both looked positively hypnotized, if she went by the way they were both staring at each other.

“Think you might want to do that again,” he mumbled against her warm skin, thumbing her lips in a daring move she’d never have expected from him.

“What?” she breathily asked, more dazed by the mindblowing kiss than she’d like to admit.

“To make your feelings obvious. Kiss me again.”

And with her trembling hands and eager mouth, she was more than happy to oblige. After all, there was 10 years-worth of waiting to put into motion.

Taglist: @mrsgiovanna @blondeboyfriend @boorishbrambling

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