Counterplay
Want to read on AO3? Click here!
After transferring schools due to your propensity for fighting, you witness something more exciting than the teacher's scrawling on the chalkboard: a certain delinquent taking advantage of his Stand's abilities to get the upper hand in a fight. Determined to see his star-dusted companion again, you try to convince him the only way you know how: by pissing him off enough to bring him forth.
After a full day of teasing and public humiliation by your hand, Jotaro takes matters into both pairs of hands that he has in his arsenal and teaches you a lesson. You don't back down so easily, pushing all of his buttons as he slowly grows to enjoy the look of defiant surrender on your face.
[In which you tease Jotaro so thoroughly that he and Star Platinum have no choice but to double team you and put you in your place, no matter how hard you try to keep yourself atop your pedestal.]
A commission/request piece from JotaroKujhoe on AO3.
You resent that your parents insisted you transfer schools, especially as you only just recently began to feel comfortable with your social standing at your previous one. It’s almost unfair that just one fight landed you in this situation; well, one fight too many. You’re present for the end of your first month of classes only because of pressure from your parents, not that it means much to you anyway. You’re more motivated by the threat of a curfew than academic standing as you begrudgingly saunter towards the school, squinting into the sun with a scowl.
You hear commotion coming from everywhere and nowhere as you approach an alley towards the back of the school, a solace you thought only you knew about. It had become routine for you to smoke a cigarette before classes start, at least on the days you bothered to come to school on time. Today, though, it appears someone has already beat you to the punch.
It’s not the only punch that’s been thrown. You stop short as you catch sight of a hulking man tower over some poor soul, his back turned to you as he clutches the front of the smaller man’s shirt in his fists. You usher behind the protection of the brick wall with shuffled feet, almost tripping over yourself as you peer from the corner. Your curiosity has gotten you into trouble before, and you hope today will be the exception. You already know you’re in hot shit considering the reputation of the student you recognize and can only imagine what he would do if he caught you snooping in his business.
The smaller man jolts his leg to collide against the other’s shin, the expression on his face indicating that he’s sure it would be a final blow. Your eyes catch on a glint of purple at the collision, just for a moment as it dissolves as quickly as it appeared.
Huh?
The man’s expression turns sour at the stubborn, confident position of his leg as it remains unmoved. He doesn’t have time to protest before he’s shoved onto the pavement roughly, the neck of his shirt stretched wide and loose. His confidence is evidently shaken, his hands raising in a plea for mercy. He says something, but the other’s booming voice overpowers it just as easily as his bravado.
“Try it.”
You’re beginning to understand why fangirls harass the guy so ardently, though you’re usually not too keen on men that don’t like to be thrown around. Your mind is almost taken away from the strange purple flash by the sultry, commanding tone. However, as the downtrodden man musters some gusto and staggers to meet his opponent’s glower with a swift punch, your eyes widen and you purse your lips to keep quiet.
What on Earth?
You’re met with the sight of an arcane being that tempts your sense of reality from your comfortable understanding of the world. Your breath catches at the wideness of its back and the sheer size of its presence, your eyes scanning its form from the undulating of its hair to the way it dissipates to nothing at the knees. It’s terrifying, especially as its hand lines up with Jotaro’s to catch the man’s fist. He cries out as his arm is twisted into a painful-looking angle that makes you wince. The pads of your fingers singe with the rough texture of the brick beneath them as you recoil. Even in your disgust, you follow the way it seems to float in the air while having more weight than any being you’ve ever seen, somehow more real than anything else. You consider that you’re simply going insane, only for the figment to fade from reality in an instant as the victim crumbles to the ground. The winner kicks pebbles into the loser’s face as he braces his arm and grits his teeth. He apparently has a death wish, spitting a loogie onto the shoe in front of his face. You can feel the indignance that emanates from the tension in his shoulders, itching to beat the sad heap below him to a bloody pulp. He apparently settles on cleaning his shoe with the convenience of the loser’s face, swiping the spit across his cheek as he digs his hands in his pockets.
He retrieves a pack of cigarettes and lights one nonchalantly, knowing that even though the loser spits vulgarities and threats that this was handled and over with. You’re still reeling from the image of the immense purple figure that barely appeared long enough to convince you it was real. It was foreboding, its very presence raising the hair on the back of your neck. You push away the tugging at your gut, your lungs filling with blessed cool air as you finally gather your thoughts.
You realize that more than anything, it was breathtakingly beautiful.
The clarity is overshadowed by panic as Jotaro starts to turn away from the pathetic sight beneath him, a puff of smoke marking his leave. You scuffle behind the solace of brick, resigning yourself away from detection. As you force yourself to keep your pace casual, you pop a cigarette of your own in your mouth to give you an alibi if you’re confronted.
There’s nothing, though, as he strides away in silence, his eyes shadowed by the brim of his hat and face buried in the lapels of his jacket. You catch a brief glimpse of his features despite his shrouding, the look in his eyes fearsome as he stares daggers ahead of him. Even someone as fiery as you would stutter under that gaze.
You light your cigarette as you watch him go, leaning against the wall hoping for some sort of stability in more ways than one. The headrush of nicotine soothes your pricked nerves, but you’re still left with the compelling desire to know more. He can’t just tempt you with that… creature and not expect you to get some answers. You don’t know how to approach him; You don’t remember his name even though you have homeroom with him, and there’s no way you could just ask. You’re sure of one thing, though:
It appears when he’s pissed off.
It’s a challenge you’re definitely up for, needing some excitement to get you through the monotony you’re sure would be ahead of you otherwise.
~
You don’t have a plan, hoping you’ll figure it out as you go along. You know he sits in the same desk every day, the farthest one from the front of the class and tucked in the corner. No one would dare try to take the desk for themselves, considering they don’t want a concussion any time soon. You’ve never paid him any mind; he’s actually rather quiet considering his demeanor and keeps to himself. Not that anyone ever tried to engage him. You thought he was all bark and no bite before this morning.
You get to class late to make sure he’s in his desk before you arrive. Your reasoning is valid, considering that Jotaro is slouched in his chair, arms crossed over his chest, with his hat pulled over his eyes. Is he asleep? Well, he wouldn’t be for long.
It doesn’t take much for you to collect the guts to fuck with someone, instigation your strong suit as you prefer to start and end conflict yourself. Knowing what he’s capable of, though, almost gives you pause as you muster a confident stride towards his desk. After he sets a short stack of papers on his desk, your first bright idea brings a smile to the corner of your lips.
All it takes is a roll of your hips up and over the corner of his desk to send the papers fluttering onto the floor. You’re not shy, eyeing him with heavy lids as you let your thigh rest against the surface of his desk a bit too long. He doesn’t meet your kindness, however. You can only assume he’s looking down at the papers, his expression hidden by the brim of his hat. Other students mutter among themselves as they turn to witness the scene, obviously concerned for your life as they realize what was going on. You don’t leave them with much more to deliberate as you nonchalantly continue to your desk, not giving him another glance until the teacher starts class just a moment later. You keep it subtle, watching him from the corner of your eye. His papers are back on his desk, though his position is no different. You can’t help but smirk at his irritated scowl.
As the teacher takes attendance, you pay attention to what she’s saying for perhaps the first time all month.
“Kujo.”
He lazily raises a finger in the air for just a moment before returning it to the crease of his arm.
Kujo, huh? Interesting.
“Try to respond using your words next time, Jotaro,” the teacher continues. Jotaro obviously isn’t in the mood for more bullshit, his intense glare shutting the teacher up before she dug herself into a hole she couldn’t get out of. You’re amused at the way he gets what he wants by commanding with his body instead of his words.
Jotaro, what a name. It suits him, almost as general-like as Watanabe himself. You wonder if you’ve gotten under his skin, his expression giving you no true indication either way as his stoicism returns. You’ll have to find out later, despite your persistent curiosity and need for validation. For now, you ponder your next move and settle on one that charms you enough to daydream about the outcome.
After class, you bolt from your desk as casually as you can. You’re trying not to be too forward, though you suppose it doesn’t matter considering the circumstances. As long as you end up in front of him as students file out of the classroom, you don’t care how you get there. Luckily, you manage to shove some of Jotaro’s ever-present groupies out of the way to insist your position in front of him. You head towards like door like any other day, making sure that Jotaro is doing the same before stopping dead in your tracks. He’s forced to either collide his chest into your back or dig the soles of his shoes into the floor to stop. He manages a bit of both, keeping himself composed as his chest briefly knocks against you. The contact brings a smile to your face despite the shocked gasps and glances your way. He balances himself back to his full stature with a supportive backstep, the girls calling out to you with some nonsense you don’t care enough to listen to. In fact, their shrill chattering only spurs you on; you were already on your way to pissing off Jotaro, might as well knock a few other pins down while you’re at it.
You dig through your pencil case slyly before selecting one by touch. You have to keep your expression neutral despite the excitement of your intentions, a feat accomplished from many years of mastering your poker face. You suppress the urge to sock these annoying bitches in their faces as you drop the pencil nonchalantly, the tinkling noise of plastic meeting linoleum quieting them down for a moment.
They’re finally speechless as you bend at the waist to retrieve it, taking your time to let your skirt ride up your thighs. You bend one knee just enough to round your hip, your hair falling to frame your face as you stretch the muscles of your thighs. Whatever pleasure you’re getting from this is quickly becoming addictive, especially as Jotaro remains as silent as ever. God, how good it would feel to get something out of him aside from defiant silence.
You didn’t think you’d have the gusto to do it, but you jut your hip just enough to expose the pattern of your panties to anyone who was looking for it. You’re not sure if Jotaro is among them, but the girls definitely are. One of them moves between you and the stillness of Jotaro’s form in an effort to either preserve your decency or their perception of Jotaro’s viridity. You rise slowly, unable to conceal your self-satisfied smirk as you return the pencil to its case.
You don’t acknowledge any of them as you prance towards the door, leaving Jotaro in the shadow of your actions, hands stuffed in his pockets and upper lip curled just enough to alter his features.
~
Two class periods pass before you see Jotaro again, giving you plenty of time to choreograph your next move. You’d expected that you would have to find him after school, but luckily enough you catch the glint of the gold chain that dangles from his jacket as he rummages through his locker. You roll your lips between your teeth as you weave through the barriers of peoples’ very existences, approaching Jotaro from the side, his face obstructed by the locker door. You wait for him to straighten before busting the locker door shut with your elbow, the metal clanging with a crash that captures the attention of bystanders. Everything is still for a moment, Jotaro seemingly unaffected by the noise that startled others around them. You see the muscles of Jotaro’s jaw tense for just a brief, delicious moment before he turns to address you. You don’t like being looked down upon, but the mixture of frustration and indignance justifies the necessity of it. Meeting his gaze is easy enough, something Jotaro isn’t used to. He takes the lead by virtue of his height, though, and both of you know it. Something about that pisses you off, warranting a move to assert your rightful place. You schmooze your shoulder into the wall of lockers as you cross your arms across your chest, the decrease in height made up for by the peek of cleavage through the space between your carefully unbuttoned uniform. You swear you see the bobbing of his Adam’s apple with a quick swallow, but you can’t confirm your suspicion. If he sees what you hope he sees, especially from his vantage point, he would have to be looking indirectly. He doesn’t offer so much as a quick glance, boring holes into your smug-looking eyes instead. Your expression is completely calculated; it’s a request, an invocation, for him to do something about what apparently bothers him more than he lets on.
“The fuck do you want?”
You didn’t expect him to speak, the darkness in his tone catching you off guard. It’s a short-lived surprise, though, as you ponder the question quite honestly. What exactly did you want? You’re not sure if you have a goal of seeing the spectre again or if you simply enjoy this cat-and-mouse game you’ve roused perhaps a bit too much. You smile as he glares, awaiting your response.
You scoff as you tauntingly raise your index finger to the lapel of his jacket, sliding it between a link of the gold chain that dangles from it. His hands clench into fists as you flick the chain upwards, hooking it on the edge of the lapel and knocking it against his collarbone. Not a second after the chain settles, Jotaro snatches your wrist with a grip you can only interpret as a threat.
His reaction is almost as thrilling as it is terrifying, the bones of your wrist starting to ache under Jotaro’s knuckles. You can’t hide your satisfied grin as you meet his glooming stare, only pissing him off further. He breaks eye contact to scan his surroundings, noticing the small crowd beginning to form around you. He gives your wrist a squeeze before casting it away, his lip curling at the situation he finds himself in. If you didn’t know better, you’d think he was showing you mercy. He’s probably more concerned about his reputation; though he hasn’t given other people’s opinions a single thought in the past, he doesn’t want to be known as a woman-beater. The idea excites you. You exaggerate the impact of his fingers on your wrist, feigning a grimace and a harsh hiss through your teeth. The murmurings among the crowd as to Jotaro’s character almost make you smile, though you find it within yourself to inhibit your amusement.
A flash of red hair comes between you and Jotaro. You step back as someone who must be his friend grabs his arms and tries to soothe him, rushed platitudes breaking Jotaro’s fierce gaze at you.
An unexpected opportunity, but one you appreciate nonetheless.
You sneakily dig around the outer pocket of your purse, dangling at your side, while the crowd is distracted by Jotaro’s friend. From the shroud of the pocket, you slide out a pair of blue-wrapped objects that jut between your fingers.
Jotaro’s eyes catch on the flash of color immediately as you tumble them onto the floor. You smugly await his response as he appears to begin ignoring his friend, the realization of what the objects are taking over his face with a scowl. The crowd realizes, too, and their murmuring starts to boil into a roar.
His eyes return to yours and you swear you see a hint of a blush flush his cheeks. You smirk at his indignance, arms crossing to round your cleavage fuller for him. His friend keeps sputtering nonsense even as Jotaro shifts his attention fully to you, eyes flashing between the condoms on the floor and your self-satisfied glare.
“Wouldn’t want to embarrass your friend, Jotaro…” you sneer, lids heavy over your confident eyes.
Jotaro glowers at your use of his name, feeling like a child that’s being disciplined for something he didn’t do. He looks back towards his friend for reassurance, but it’s too late. He begins to crane his face towards you, looking for answers that Jotaro refuses to give.
Jotaro needs to be quick. He pushes past his friend, earning an irate grunt from him as he knocks his shoulder forcefully. The crowd giggles amusedly as Jotaro rushes to crouch to the ground and swipe the pair of condoms into his seething fist. Looking down on him, finally lower than you despite your short stature, is titillatingly enticing.
He rises as his friend snaps accusations at him, shoving the condoms back towards your chest assertively. Your arms remain crossed, though you infuriate him with a glance towards the blue peeking between his fingers. His lips part with the first genuine sign of assured embarrassment he’s shown, and along with his begging eyes he’s certainly coming undone. You scoff a laugh at him though he glares down at you, his friend tugging at his jacket insisting he calm down.
Jotaro resigns. He stuffs the condoms into his pocket with a spitting tsk, embarrassment shying away to make room for uninhibited rage. His friend huffs as Jotaro grips his upper arm and starts dragging him past you. He makes sure to clip your shoulder with his arm as he passes you, sending you one final message, a warning.
It goes unheeded.
~
Gym class is hardly worth Jotaro’s time. He makes the most of it as a free period, listening to sportscasts on a portable radio. The bleachers of the outdoor track make a fine resting spot high above the other, more obedient students as they loop perpetually around the asphalt track. Teachers don’t bother to attempt to coerce him into participating. They knew the drill by now; they let him puff on a cigarette as long as he keeps far enough away from them so they don’t have to smell it. He’s just thankful to be left alone for a few brief, cherished moments.
Those moments don’t last long.
He opens his eyes after enjoying the solace of his sportscast when he hears you stomping up the bleachers, the hollow metallic sound already irritating enough without knowing who was causing it. He meets your gaze with a curl of his upper lip and a deeper furrowing of his brow, his expression telling you to fuck off without needing to use his words. He takes a drag on his cigarette as you pass him, billowing smoke tossing with the current your body tears through the still air.
Getting him alone is exactly what you needed. He might be hiding his abilities because there’s other people around, you reason. Can everyone else see it, too?
You plop down just one bleacher superior to his own, a hollow clang marking the indifferent manner in which you set down a radio of your own. Jotaro doesn’t turn to meet your smug gaze, the hair on the back of his head glistening blueish under the afternoon sun.
What type of music would he hate the most? Your bite the inside of your lip in thought, swiping a line of sweat that dots your hairline from the late September heat. Jotaro’s jacket is thick and dark; how is he not sweltering right now?
You tune the radio to the first station that comes through the grating static. Usually Seiko Matsuda would be perfectly tolerable, but as you crank up the volume, her pleasant voice quickly becomes quite abrasive. Jotaro’s shoulders hunch over himself with a plainly evident ill temper. His sportscast is no match for the sultry beats, easily drowned out from the sheer volume of your music. Pushing his buttons becomes easier and easier, much to your delight.
In fact, it doesn’t take nearly as long for him to retaliate as he had in the past. He’s not in the mood for vague threats or veiled irritation, taking a much more forward approach. Your eyes widen as he turns suddenly to launch something directly into the speaker of your radio, effectively muffling the sound enough to bring the sportscast to clarity once again.
You’d normally be wickedly irate at someone damaging your property, especially as it sputters out into silence, but your attention is captured by something much more inciting. A flash of purple lines the muscles of his forearm, iridescent in the bright sunlight and absolutely captivating. You look down on him with heavy, smug eyes and your legs crossed tightly. Your foot dangles too close to Jotaro’s shoulder for his liking; he jerks away from you, leaning to collect the Zippo that was lodged in the circuitry of your radio. You suppose you should feign a normal reaction, considering you’re not sure if Jotaro knows you can see the intriguing purple specter.
“What the fuck, dickbrain?” you snarl, caressing the remains of your radio. You have to shout over the ambient cheering of a crowd from Jotaro’s radio.
“You’re damn annoying,” Jotaro leers, not afraid to meet your gaze under the brim of his hat.
It’s like he’s teasing you, giving you only brief glances of violet that makes you want to beg for more. You’re too prideful for that, and despite your prodding and goading he seems just as unyielding as ever. It’s becoming increasingly apparent, though, that even the cool and collected Jotaro has a limit.
You’re staunchly curious as to what that limit is.
You uncross your legs smoothly, bringing the tip of your shoe to the undershirt beneath his jacket. He huffs a breath with the contact, his eyes trailing from your foot and up your thigh. Your lips pout with victory as you notice his eyes unsheath from the shadow of his hat to linger between your legs, his attention obviously captured by the flash of color there. He swallows briefly before returning your gaze with a burning fury in his eyes.
“Yeah? What’cha gonna do about it?” you antagonize, rolling your ankle to sully his shirt further. The disrespect doesn’t go unnoticed as his lip curls, making way for the barely-there, quiet growl that escapes from between his teeth.
“You fucking--”
You extend your knee with a jolt, sending his torso backwards with the thrust. He grunts with the unexpected incivility, clamoring to catch his balance before he would tumble down the rising levels of the bleachers.
You get what you want.
He propels himself forward with the assistance of broad arms that appear by his side, supporting his shoulders with an authoritative grip. You admire the hue and muscle of them, gloved hands obfuscating bulky fingers. You’re no match for its strength, your leg bending to its will as your knee bends.
Your smug expression infuriates him to a tight grip of your ankle. He snaps your foot off of him, opening your legs for a brief moment. You allow yourself to be manhandled, the purple fingers digging into your skin deliciously. You’re particularly forgiving, considering the way Jotaro holds you in that position just a bit longer than he needs to do get a better view. He seems surprised by his own actions, dropping your leg hastily and phasing his purple companion out of view. He hides within the forgiving shadow of his hat once more. You keep your legs uncrossed and agape, just enough to invite his glance but not assert it. He doesn’t take the invitation, his fists clenched as he meets you with pinpoint pupils. You see more of the whites of his eyes than you have before.
You need to hide that you’ve seen it, though every part of you wants to interrogate him further. The tension of his jaw prevents you from saying anything, favoring action as opposed to words. You wonder why he’s not saying anything since you two were relatively unbothered by witnesses. You want to know what he’s thinking, but you don’t dare ask.
You eye the scuff of dirt on his shirt as you lean down, your arms pressing your cleavage against the constraint of your ever-increasingly revealing constraints of your uniform, a flash of a lacy bra peeking from the plain white collared shirt. Jotaro does nothing except seethe quietly as you pluck the half-finished cigarette from his lips; he gives you a little resistance but is caught off guard by your assertiveness. As you bring the cigarette to your lips, you watch his reaction carefully, drinking in the anger that burns from the terseness of his muscles. He’s usually so coolheaded, perhaps infuriatingly so, and you grin with the thought that you’ve managed to bother him so apparently. Perhaps he’s too proud to give a woman a lashing.
It only motivates you to take things even further.
You don’t smoke his brand, Casters too expensive for your budget. You see why he likes them as you inhale harshly and the woody taste of tobacco courses past your tongue and into your waiting lungs. Jotaro waits incredulously, eyes focused on your lips as they pout around the cigarette, the red-hot ash smoldering. You exhale through the breadth of your lips, sending billowing smoke towards Jotaro’s face. He keeps his eyes open stubbornly, jaw jutting as his fingernails dig into the meat of his fist.
As you breathe out, your head rushes with the promise of nicotine, the sensation accentuating the flutter in your chest as you boldly mock Jotaro. His statuesque positioning is obviously an attempt to dissuade you, like placating a childhood bully into getting bored at the lack of visible irritation. It doesn’t work. Instead, it’s charming, and oh so inviting.
You pull the cigarette from your lips with a flick of your tongue, savoring the earthiness of it before raising it above Jotaro’s head.
He stares at you with hot disbelief as you ash the cigarette on the bill of his hat, stray ashes cascading past his view. You bring it back to your mouth, offering a provocative grin. Does he know how stupid he looks with that expression? You consider telling him.
Your decision is made for you quicker than you can consider it as Jotaro whips his hand towards your face, swiping the cigarette onto the steel of the bleachers. He stomps it out, grinding it to dust; he’s probably wishing he could do the same to you. He rises quickly, finally towering over you, shoving his hands in his pockets to keep himself in line.
You eye his radio, still spouting nonsense about baseball that you’ve been ignoring. He doesn’t bother to collect it as he turns and trudges down the bleachers, ripping his hat off of his head to clear the brim of the debris. You’re disappointed, your smile falling in favor of a crestfallen grimace. If that wasn’t enough to show you more, what would be?
You consider your options and choose the one with the most promising prospects. It’s also the riskiest choice, but you decide to ignore that in favor of the excitement that churns in your belly.
~
Jotaro’s home is expectedly opulent, with wide expanses of traditional architecture and a sozu garden. It’s easy to conceal your presence behind the many winding hallways formed by traditional buildings. What isn’t so easy is keeping track of Jotaro, considering he moves in and out of doors, always closing them behind him. You find it amusing that he keeps his school uniform on even an hour past school ending. You’re usually anxious to tear it off as soon as you step through your door in favor of some pajamas, or, in the heat of summer, nothing at all. He’s respectful enough, fulfilling apparent chores like hanging laundry to dry and sweeping the porch. There’s an ever-present scowl that furrows his brow even as he does the most menial tasks.
Jotaro disappears into what must be his bedroom, as you spot some sports paraphernalia and a neatly made bed behind the shoji he slides shut hurriedly. You scowl, this plan less eventful than you anticipated. You finally spot a blond-haired chipper woman call to Jotaro from outside his door. She says something you can’t hear as he appears, reluctantly sliding his door open with an attitude. He shrugs before shutting the door in her face. She doesn’t seem particularly upset by it, though, as she collects her bag and heads towards a luxe-looking car parked at the front of the house.
You yawn, tired from being woken up at the ass-crack of dawn by your harping mother. As you open your eyes from the effort of the yawn, you find Jotaro’s bedroom door slid open, yet he’s nowhere to be seen. You wait to see movement, wondering if he went to the kitchen or another room you’ve yet to identify. All you see is the gentle rustling of the leaves that adorn trees decorating the property’s perimeter, the wind tousling your hair with them.
For such a hot-headed guy, his home is quite serene. He doesn’t blare music or bounce a ball against the wall, he simply goes about his business quietly. The milieu isn’t what you expected; he must be some sort of loner, keeping to himself this much. Is he that much of an unlikeable douche, or does he prefer things this way?
Your pondering is interrupted by a sudden, unpleasant choking of your windpipe.
You gurgle as you’re thrust backwards, your back pressed against a crushing edifice. You heave your chest fruitlessly, trying to catch the breath that’s been knocked out of you. Your shoulder blades burn with the pressure of two strong hands bearing you into the wooden beams unforgivingly, heat searing the knobs of your spine. Where the hands meet your skin, the sensation of static, like when a limb falls asleep, overrides the pain.
Your eyes open to meet stony blue irises, pinpointed with fury that you’ve never seen before. Normally, you’d smile at seeing Jotaro so perturbed. However, as your gut wrenches with tension, you find yourself unable to do anything but grimace. You search his person, finding his hands buried in his pockets, relying on brawny purple hands to keep you in place.
You can’t help but stare at the gloved hands that dissipate to nothingness before you, fear overtaking your sensibilities.
“You can see him?”
Jotaro’s evident anger in his features turns to hesitance, studying your reaction to the question. You’re too interested in the way that he refers to the hands as “he” to hide the obvious answer to his question laid out on your face.
Just as your breath returns to you, you lose it again. From nothingness, a burst of stardust announces his presence quicker than you can begin to understand what you’re seeing. Twinkling stars reflect in your eyes as they dissipate as quickly as they came. Closer to you than you thought, a pair of spine-chillingly focused eyes bore into your own. An unfamiliar feeling of sheepishness comes over you as your eyes explore the being’s face, angular, refined, and undeniably pissed.
Your arms raise as much as you can muster to grasp his forearms, not in defiance but rather a sense of grounding. It’s as if you’re not sure that this thing is real, and that you can feel it. Indeed, static weaves its way through your palms as you mold your hands around the apparent muscle.
He pushes you further into the wood, causing it to creak and complain. You drop your hands, knocking them against the building as you feel yourself growing lightheaded.
“Bring out your stand,” Jotaro challenges from behind the opaque purple of the being’s back.
“W-what?” You manage to choke out, your eyes exploring the galaxy that is the being’s ever-flowing hair. Despite your fear, you feel a grin crawling across your face. You’d gotten what you wanted; unfortunately, the circumstances weren’t exactly ideal.
“You want to fight, then let’s fight,” Jotaro says coolly.
“Fight?” you grunt. “I don’t want to--”
The being releases the pressure on your shoulders, only to jolt you forward by taking the front of your shirt into his fist. He’s provoking you, jerking you suddenly to steal your balance from you. In your stunned breathlessness, all he accomplishes is exposing your bra and cleavage to prying eyes.
“I can’t beat the shit out of a girl at school, but there’s nothing stopping me here,” Jotaro growls, his voice omnipresent as his form is obfuscated.
“I swear,” you utter, “I don’t want to fight.”
“Too bad.”
You’re hoisted into the air by a strength too quick to see, wrapping his arms around your torso as your back is supported by his chest. You finally see Jotaro, looking upon you with disdain.
“I just---” you writhe within the constraints, your arms held in place too close to your chest for comfortable breathing. “I wanted to see it.”
Jotaro raises his brow at you for just a moment. If you weren’t watching his face, desperate for mercy, you would have missed it. Your eyes flicker to the scuff mark of cigarette ash on his hat.
“What? Star Platinum?” he asks, his voice low.
Star Platinum? This thing had a name?
You cough with the pressure around your rib cage, kicking your legs backwards. You’re surprised to meet resistance; you didn’t think this being had legs.
If he has legs, then he has an obvious weak point.
You grunt as you swing your leg backwards between his legs, only for it to be caught between his knees. Shit, he’s fast. Jotaro huffs with amusement as you fight and jerk madly against your captor, teeth gritted and eyes burning into Jotaro’s infuriatingly prideful expression.
“Why?” Jotaro crones, approaching you confidently.
“Why, what?” you spit, the muscles of your leg beginning to ache almost as much as your chest.
Jotaro scoffs, insulted by your denseness. “You’ve been fucking with me all day. Why?”
You muster a crocodile smile. “It comes out when you’re pissed, doesn’t it?”
Jotaro takes a moment to put two and two together. He doesn’t bother asking you how you’ve come to that conclusion, far more concerned about other matters. He steps even closer to you, and you take the opportunity in stride.
He catches your ankle with ease when you slam your leg towards his face. You whine with frustration as you’re rendered immobile, your face heating with the exertion.
“And you thought you could get away with it?” Jotaro snarks, leaning into your face just outside of head-butting range. You scowl with his antagonistic prying, desperate for a full breath of air. He opens your legs just enough, the plushness of your thighs revealed as your skirt slides aside towards your hips.
“I’m sorry,” you croak, your voice strained by the bitterness of the apology and the constraint of Star Platinum’s embrace. “I don’t want… to fight.”
“Afraid you’ll lose?” Jotaro sneers, his eyes peering just barely from under the brim of his hat. You resent the tone he takes: cocky and self-assured.
You retaliate by spitting what little saliva you have onto his face, forcing him to close his eyes and jolt with the insult.
“Doubt it,” you growl, maintaining what little dignity you have left.
Curiously, he huffs a chuckle as he wipes your spit from his cheek and releases your leg before stepping back. You furrow your brows with confusion, only for fear to overtake your features once again. Star Platinum releases you suddenly, sending you to collapse onto the ground. You curse, gripping your scuffed knees, though you’re thankful for the full expansion of your diaphragm relieving the dizzy lightness in your head.
Star Platinum appears behind Jotaro, allowing you to view him in his entirety. They look down at you with identical eyes, though a mysterious wind undulates the fabric of Star Platinum’s loin cloth. You plant your palms into the ground to stabilize yourself, taken aback by just how big he is. You didn’t think there was anything that could dwarf Jotaro so easily.
“Prove it, then,” Jotaro instigates as he widens his stance, freeing his fists from his pockets. You feel rage build in your gut; you’re not used to being humiliated liked this, left with bloody knees and an aching in your shoulder. You didn’t want to fight, but your honor and pride are being dangled in front of you like a carrot to a horse.
Despite your fatigue, you spring towards Jotaro like a sprinter bursting from their starting blocks. Jotaro purses his lips with what must be his attempt at a smile, keeping his stance confidently despite your advance. You ready your fists as you side-step your path, hopefully thwarting whatever plan Jotaro is brewing by dissipating Star Platinum out of view.
You’re just a few paces short of him when you’re yanked backwards, your wrists captured by what might be the strongest grip you’ve ever felt. Your shoulders protest as you’re dragged backwards towards the wall. You try to catch yourself by digging the heels of your shoes into the ground to no avail. You grunt as your back is slammed against the hardness again, your wrists pinned above your head by a pair of hands that glisten in the sunlight.
You start to let out a guttural cry before Jotaro claps his palm against your mouth. You meet his composed gaze with one of pure spite, choked by the meat of his hand. The skin tastes salty and bitter like soap as you grate your teeth against it, kicking your legs against the oppressive force against them. Your petulance is fruitless, having no effect on either of them.
Jotaro waits for you to tire yourself out, which doesn’t take too long considering the searing pain in your wrists and shoulders. Hot breath from your nose cascades around the back of his hand as you quiet down into angry whimpers, relaxing your muscles into the constraints imposed upon you. Jotaro can sense your will weakening, your ego taking the hit as you come to terms with the first opponent that you know you can’t beat. The way he avoids hitting or pummeling you is irritatingly insulting; what he sees as conserving his energy, you interpret as pity.
He releases your mouth, revealing your gritted teeth and sweat-slicked jaw. He says nothing, only warranting your reaction with a calculating glare. You’ve never had to stand down in a fight, and have no idea what to do or say. You just want to kick him in the balls and be on your way, yearning for a cigarette.
Jotaro understands your surrender, weakening Star Platinum’s grip on your wrists. You sigh with relief, the bones of your wrist beginning to ache deeply. You’re waiting for him to release you, considering the unexpected amount of mercy that he offers you.
He doesn’t. Instead, he grips something else.
You grimace as he takes your thighs into his heated palms, the slick of your spit making you shiver. You kick your knees out with your remaining ego, weakened by pain and spite.
“What the fuck do you think you’re doing?” you fume, watching his fingers trail up your thigh towards the pleats of your skirt.
“I know you’re a dumb bitch,” Jotaro snarls, “but you can’t be that stupid.”
You have to take the insult in stride, not having many other options. Your cheeks flush as Jotaro pulls his chest flush with yours, the hardness of it pressing your spine further into the building. You scowl, Jotaro’s fingers tickling the sensitive skin above your thigh-high socks of your uniform.
You don’t see Jotaro’s grin as you open your legs for his touch, not entirely due to your conscious decision. Jotaro doesn’t seem like the type to wear cologne, yet as you breathe in precious air your eyes close with a musk you’ve never been close enough to him to notice before.
“Let me go,” you command weakly, your voice wavering with the feeling of Jotaro’s chest pressing into you with each of his breaths. You contort your fingers against the pressure on your muscles, insisting he obey. Not that you’re in any position to be demanding anything.
Jotaro tsks close to your ear, his quiet nature amplified with his proximity. You didn’t genuinely expect him to listen to you, letting your arms drop to your sides with a quick release. You relish the feeling of cool air on your wrists, not daring to prod Jotaro into doing something similar to you again.
Jotaro backs up to stare down at you curiously, as if he’s awaiting your next move in a battle. You squint into the sun as you meet his gaze, just as unsure of your approach as he is.
You do what your gut tells you to do, unable to think clearly enough for a quip or attack.
He recoils when you press your lips against his harshly, his brows coming together with the contact. With your newly freed hand, you grip the back of his neck, digging your fingernails into the skin to keep him in place as you deepen the kiss that he does not reciprocate.
It doesn’t last long before you’re torn off of him, Star Platinum grabbing your arm to turn you on your heels. You yelp as your hands reach out for stability, finding the broad chest that materializes in front of you. Jotaro wipes your spit off his lips with the back of his hand, trailing your body as Star Platinum embraces your sides.
Jotaro drives his fist into your lower back, forcing you to arch your spine to reveal the contours of your panties. You balance your cheekbone onto the meat of Star Platinum’s chest, bracing his forearms for balance.
Jotaro doesn’t bother with pleasantries, jutting his hips against the heat that burns between your legs. You scowl into the staticy sensation that electrifies your face as he grips your hips and drags you onto his hardness, rough from the texture of his slacks.
Just because you’ve lost doesn’t give Jotaro the right to manhandle you like this, you decide. You shift your weight to free one of your arms. Your breath hitches as Jotaro’s thumbs slide under the elastic of your panties, knowing you needed to act quick to retain your dignity.
You palm the tenting of Star Platinum’s loincloth before digging your fingers into the base, the size of it bringing a grin to your lips. How could this be contained by the rather modest cloth?
Jotaro grunts with the pressure of your hand, his fingers burning bruises into your skin. His reaction is curious, especially the way he grinds his hips into yours. You explore further, digging your fingernails into the underside of his cock.
Jotaro hisses, reaching forward to rip your hand off of the hardness under your ministration. You breathe a chuckle despite the ache in your shoulder returning as Jotaro bends your arm backwards.
“Do that again, this arm is coming off,” he growls. You can hear his seriousness.
He must’ve felt that, you reason. The concept amuses you, despite the looming threat of amputation. You suppose you’ll have to play nice, considering Jotaro has obviously bested you with plenty of potential to spare.
Jotaro releases your arm, satisfied with the lack of snark in return. You grasp Star Platinum’s hip as Jotaro grips the hem of your skirt, the threads clicking with pressure as he tries to pull it off of you. It’s too secure, though, fitted to your person.
He’s too impatient for the zipper and too frustrated by the day’s events to bother further, instead pushing your skirt up and over your hips with a huff. You rest your forehead against the stability of his chest, knees coming together with a sense of shyness you’re not familiar with nipping at your gut. Determined to ignore the sensation of Jotaro pulling down your panties, you cast aside Star Platinum’s loincloth with a hasty flick of your wrist.
You can’t help but stare, the sheer size of it falling wayside to the uniqueness of its features. Your fingers trail the ridges that encircle the shaft to the tip, lined by small bumps. The head is plump and spongy under your thumb as you press into it, the sensation of electricity amplifying with the drop of precum that you drag into a strand. Jotaro barely gets your panties to your knees before working on his belt; rather, you can only assume that’s what he’s doing, since all you can hear is the tingling of clanging metal.
His knee juts between yours, spreading your legs with urgency. He’s satisfied with your obedience to his ushering, finally managing to knock you off the pedestal you’ve built for yourself. You take Star Platinum’s cock into your grasp as you maintain your balance and push away sheepishness at the sudden exposure. Your fist tightens when Jotaro runs an impertinent finger along your slit, humming at the way it drenches his digit with ease. He hunches over you, bringing his lips close to your ear.
“Is this why you brought those condoms?” Jotaro murmurs, heat behind his voice with the prospects in front of him. You smell cigarettes on his breath, rolling your eyes into the craving that comes over you once again.
“Don’t need ‘em,” you assure with a slur, looking behind you to catch a glimpse of Jotaro’s incredulous grin. The look is foreign on his face, for once brightened by something other than rightfully earned self-satisfaction.
He doesn’t warn you before plunging two fingers into you, your eyes closing as you hiss at the penetration. You tighten around his fingers despite his insistent prodding, your chest heaving as he grinds against your insides. He’s testing you, assessing your capacity. He rises again to angle his fingers for deeper penetration, scissoring them inside you.
You run your fist along the breadth of Star Platinum’s cock in return, admiring the strange presence that bucks its hips into the pump. You match Jotaro’s pace as he slides in and out, hardly able to fit his cock in your fist. Your thumb and fingers don’t touch, the bulk of it too wide. You close your eyes with the sensations that begin to overwhelm you. You eventually come to welcome the way Jotaro’s fingers slide against you, feeling bitter when he withdraws them too quickly.
Jotaro uses the same hand to rope your hair between his fingers, jerking your head away from the comfort you’ve found as your eyes are forced into opening. You grimace with the stinging of your scalp, gritting your teeth as you try to collect yourself enough to spit out revenge.
“You wanted to see him, so look at him,” he barks, releasing your hair as he tosses your head back onto Star Platinum’s chest. You keep your eyes open as you stroke him, watching the way his “skin” molds to your touch. The pad of your finger circles the sensitive underside of his head, earning a groan from Jotaro behind you.
He rewards you with a rounded stroke of the underside of your clit, the pleasure craning your spine. You huff and raise your hips, begging his fingers to touch it in its entirety. The sight makes Jotaro’s cock ache in the constraints of his boxers, the tension relieved as he frees himself from them with a tug of the waistband. He circles the nub, much to your delight as you sigh the first pleasurable moan between your lips, genuine and needy.
His frustration and impatience grows with each stroke of Star Platinum’s cock. You grunt as his fist comes down between your shoulder blades, jolting you downwards and testing your flexibility. You press your cheek into the divet of Star Platinum’s hip, his cock looking even larger at eye-level. You begin to say something, but you’re swiftly interrupted by further manhandling as Jotaro jerks you backwards by pulling on your arm. You grit your teeth with the singe of pain in your shoulder, only for your breath to be taken from you once again as you’re faced with the head of Star Platinum’s cock, slicked with precum.
Star Platinum’s hand grips the back of your head rather tenderly as you debate the possibility that they’re asking this from you. You shake your head, looking up at the stoic blue eyes that Jotaro looks at you through. He squeezes your wrist, insisting, instructing.
You manage to part your lips through your trembling jaw, eyeing the head that you doubt could possibly fit. You hold back a grunt as he pries your lips apart with the tip, stretching your mouth open for him. In fear and adrenaline, your mouth feels parched; however, as you taste the alien sweetness of Star Platinum’s precum, saliva floods the floor of your mouth. Jotaro releases your arm, knowing you’d be compliant whether you liked it or not, and hunches over you again. You squirm under the weight, too busy trying to fit his cock into your mouth to protest. Your eyes widen as Jotaro’s cock rests between the mounds of your ass with the position.
He pops the buttons of your top off as he rips the hem open, exposing you with a harsh burning of tense fabric on your chest. He works quickly at your bra, leaving it torn in the middle as he embraces your breasts greedily. The urge to slap him across the face for ruining your rather expensive bra dissipates as he kneads your chest roughly, indulging in what you’ve been teasing him with all day. You dig your fingers into Star Platinum’s thighs as he drives his cock further into your mouth with a swift thrust. You gag as the head bumps against the back of your throat, forcing your tongue flat across your bottom teeth.
Your protests mean nothing to either of them as you try to sputter and turn your head, his strong hand keeping you in place easily. Thankfully, just as you start finding it hard to breathe, he withdraws to allow you to cough and bitch to your heart’s desire.
Strangely, you don’t feel the need to complain as Jotaro rolls your nipples between a pinch of his fingers. Lead drops in your gut as he flicks a pad of his finger across one, licking your lips to clear the excess saliva that pooled. Your eyelids feel heavy with the gracious break that you’ve been given.
Star Platinum gets a better hold of your head before driving himself back into your mouth with little warning. You relax your throat as best you can, the tension in your jaw burning as he pushes its limits. You can barely take half of the shaft before tears form at your waterline, tempting to drop with any movement.
Two tears fall as Jotaro releases your chest to rise, grinding his cock against your slickness. You try to choke out a grunt as he lines himself up with your entrance, already prodding you. Star Platinum finds a rhythm that you don’t fight too hard, a steady thrusting that forces drool to escape your lips and dangle from your chin in strands. Each time he pulls out far enough for you to take a breath, you cry out to Jotaro who begins sliding his cock into you without pause.
“Shut up.”
You swallow Star Platinum as he thrusts deeper into your throat, grinding your top teeth along the flesh in necessity. It effectively mutes you as Jotaro drives himself inside, holding your hips still as you try to groan with the penetration. His silence grates you, especially as you whine into the pressure between your legs. You manage to wrangle your mouth free by whipping your head to the right, catching both of them off guard.
“Hey--” you start, only to be interrupted by Star Platinum’s fingers hooking into your cheek. You growl, guttural and pissed. “Let me say something, fuckface.”
Your garbled words amuse Jotaro enough to withdraw Star Platinum’s fingers. You spit, relieving the taste of precum and the sensation of static from your tongue.
“Will you fuck me like you mean it, already?” you snarl, Star Platinum’s cock rubbing against your cheek.
Jotaro chuckles, the sound of it alien to you. Star Platinum’s thumb hooks the bottom row of your teeth, taking your lower jaw into his grip. He straightens your head forward, your breath heating the slicked head of his cock.
He holds you there, eyeing the wetted purple ridges that put you on edge. You prepare yourself, holding your breath and relaxing your tongue. Saliva pools in the bottom of your mouth, anticipating the sweet taste of precum that dots his tip.
Jotaro thrusts into you, making you yelp as he grinds flush with your body. You grit your teeth into the pulp of Star Platinum’s thumb, an aching throb winding its way through your pelvis. You underestimated how big Jotaro would be, your legs feeling weak as he draws out of you slowly, only to pound into you again. Your groans are amplified by the way Star Platinum holds your jaw agape, prying your teeth off of his thumb.
You haven’t adjusted to Jotaro’s pace when Star Platinum drives his cock back into your throat, the impact of it weakening your resolution. You drink in the sound of Jotaro’s hushed groan as he quickens his rhythm, working in sync with Star Platinum. After Jotaro’s cock drives you forward onto Star Platinum’s cock, he returns the favor by jutting his hips to push you back. Jotaro’s tip pouts against your cervix, the sensation curling your toes and arching your back. Jotaro pushes you back into place with an authoritative palm, deepening his penetration and testing your limits.
You don’t bother holding yourself up, Jotaro and Star Platinum doing a good enough job between them. You focus on keeping your throat loose and recovering from the jolts of pleasure that sink into your bones from Jotaro’s hard and fast thrusting. Through all of it, through the fog and dizziness that claims your logical thought, you hone in on one thing.
The absolute, undeniable pleasure that rips its way through your resolve.
You close your eyes as you allow one of your arms to dangle. Slowly but surely, against the opposing forces that work on your body, you reach down to your clit and rub with a desperate rolling of your finger. You tighten around Jotaro with the stimulation, breathing heavy to accommodate the lack of adequate oxygen.
Jotaro releases your hip with a snap, forcing you to regain your balance on one leg. He rips your hand away from the pleasure that brings you some semblance of control, bending your arm behind your back.
“You enjoying this?” Jotaro sneers without pausing, using your forearm as leverage. You whine at the stimulation that quickly overtakes you again as your autonomy is taken from you once again.
You can’t answer, but the question wasn’t rhetorical. You gasp as Star Platinum withdraws to rest his tip against your tongue, allowing you precious breath. Jotaro slows, penetrating you shallowly with the border of his tip. You roll your hips with conviction, though your unabashed attempt only inspires a sultry grin on Jotaro and Star Platinum’s faces.
“Hm?”
After a day of teasing, Jotaro apparently decides that it’s his turn. You flick the underside of Star Platinum with your tongue, trying to tempt him into taking your mouth again. It’s fruitless, both of them giving you only just enough to want more. You know what Jotaro wants from you, the thought of it making you roll your eyes with impudence. Despite your already-wavering dignity, begging is a bit too much for your sensibilities held together by threads.
But God, is it tempting.
Jotaro tugs on your forearm, a reminder that he expects an answer either way. Star Platinum slides out from between your lips, your eyes following the meat of it as he slaps it against your cheek. You close one eye as he stickies your skin with spit and precum, thumping it against your cheekbone infuriatingly. Strands of spit break with your breathing, sticking to your chin.
You mumble something under your breath, barely audible. If Star Platinum didn’t have incredible hearing, Jotaro wouldn’t have heard anything at all.
“Hm?”
You squint your eyes with frustration, rolling your tongue over the air-cooled tip that prods your lips. Instead of repeating yourself, you let your actions speak for themselves.
It isn’t good enough.
Star Platinum withdraws from you and Jotaro slows to a halt. You groan as you crane your neck to stare daggers at Jotaro, pulling on your arm indignantly. The heat in your belly grows into frustration, your body kept infuriatingly stagnant.
“You asked so nicely before,” Jotaro sneers, meeting your gaze confidently. His cock hardens for a moment inside you, sending shivers through your spine. He drinks in your expression, pleased as you try to hide your desires through transparent intimidation.
“If you’re gonna do it, fucking do it,” you gripe, throat sore from the beating it’s taken.
“Do what?”
You scoff with the idiotic question, grimacing at the teasing. Apparently, what goes around, comes around.
“C’mon,” you spit.
Silence. You can’t convince yourself to look behind you and meet Jotaro’s smug gaze as he prods you irritatingly lightly.
“Fuck me,” you finally command, not resorting to pleading. Jotaro tsks, his fingers tracing the muscles along your spine to come rest on your hips. He squeezes them with conviction, letting you know that he would have the final say.
Jotaro grinds into you, sending you reeling into Star Platinum’s hips. After one full filling of your boundaries, he only gives you only half of what you want. With not nearly enough length or speed, he technically does as he’s asked.
You spit curses at him, your words muffled by the cock in your mouth. He hums amusedly, enjoying the way you try to rock your hips back onto him.
“What?” he goads, the lilt to his voice curling your lip.
“You know what,” you bark with a grit to your voice.
Jotaro continues his infuriating pace despite your fist thumping into Star Platinum’s thigh. He’s waiting, and you know it.
“Harder,” you command, resenting the begging tone you’re forced to adopt. Jotaro, however, enjoys it thoroughly.
Jotaro awards your efforts with a thorough pounding, no compassion given despite your terse groaning. You expect Star Platinum to return the favor in kind, but he pulls out of your mouth and leaves it agape.
Jotaro thumps the heel of his palm against your shoulder, bending you further at the waist. Star Platinum pushes your clavicle into the ground as Jotaro keeps your hips flush with his own, knocking you onto your knees. Dirt sticks to the spit that slicks your chin, though it’s the least of your concerns as Star Platinum’s foot stomps onto your shoulder blade. You take his ankle into your fist, pinned to the ground as Jotaro takes advantage of the newfound leverage to take from you what he needs most. Your fingernails, dug into Star Platinum’s skin, seem to do nothing as you try to regain the control you’re hungry for.
You sense an opportunity when Star Platinum shifts his weight. You slide your shoulder out from his hold and snap your teeth into the tendons of his ankle, biting as hard as you can muster. Finally, they recoil, freeing you for a desperately needed moment. You take advantage of the opening to knock Jotaro back onto his calves with your hips before sliding off of him too fast. He curses as you turn to straddle him, your thighs taking over his as you finally relish in some semblance of control. You know that you could be quickly overpowered, but as you grip the meat of his shoulders and look down on him from a vantage point, you try to ignore that fact.
Jotaro glares up at you as you guide yourself onto him, sinking your hips into his with hurried spite. He hisses, tolerating the position only because you roll your hips onto him so hungrily. Your hands explore his chest, winding under the thickness of his jacket to toy with the army green fabric that hides his musculature. You huff a giggle at your shoe print there, dirt seemingly marking your territory. Jotaro would never admit it to you, but he’s reviling in the attention that you give him as opposed to Star Platinum, feeling your touches much more intensely this way. You feel real to him, your hair swaying in front of your face with each strenuous pulse.
You stare at him as he reaches up to brush your hair from your eyes, tucking it behind your ear. You almost laugh, feeling infantilized by the gesture, his motives not entirely known to you. The kindness is quickly relinquished as he tugs on your hair with an unforgiving fist. He hides his gaze under his hat, his other hand taking your breast into his palm. The chill of the metal of his belt buckle heats against your thigh as you press into it.
You grin at the idea that pops into your head, looking down at the cigarette ash scuff on his hat. You pluck it from his head by the brim, exposing the curling locks that slick his sweaty forehead. Without pausing your rhythm, fearing that Jotaro wouldn’t tolerate your fucking if you did, you perch the hat atop your own head. You grin smugly as the brim shadows your eyes, his hat just a tad too large for your head as it dips sloppily. To your amusement and surprise, Jotaro huffs a grin of his own as he looks up at you, flashing a peek of teeth. There’s viciousness behind the smile; you don’t forget his true intentions in the brevity of intimacy.
You arch your spine as Star Platinum grips the back of your neck, a warning rather than a threat. You seethe with the static that lightnings its way through you at the touch, tightening you around Jotaro.
Jotaro curls his lip as Star Platinum lifts you off of him, your point made clearly enough that you’re still recalcitrant enough to hurt him to maintain composure.
He’d have to crack that pesky attitude of yours one way or another.
Star Platinum holds the back of your thighs, hands hooked around the back of your knees, as he presses your back into his chest. You scowl at the exposure as he spreads your legs to wait for Jotaro who takes his time to rise to your level, enjoying the view. Your entrance is reddened and sore, waiting for more. Whatever power you had has been swept out from under you again, infuriating you.
Jotaro taps the pads of his fingers against your skinned knees, a surge of pain kicking your legs out. He chuckles at your hand moving to slap him away, catching your wrist with ease. Your face heats as you feel Star Platinum’s cock press into your lower back, the distinct sensation of his presence beginning to arouse you simply with its existence.
Jotaro overlaps Star Platinum’s hands with his own as he lines himself up with you, already well-slicked. You reach up to try and take Star Platinum’s hair between your fingers, met with a strange sensation that furrows your brows. It’s almost intangible, cold and slick like glass, though it molds to your touch and swirls incessantly between your fingers. A hollow awe settles in your gut, as if you looked into a great abyss whose mysteries were yet to be discovered. You’re taken away from the feeling of wonder as Jotaro glides into you, Star Platinum settling you into the pressure of it. You hiss with Jotaro, your limits tested again with the aid of gravity, taking Jotaro in his entirety. Your free hand grips the chain of Jotaro’s jacket, draping the hem off of his shoulder.
You’re not sure how much more you can take, the angle that Jotaro rubs against you hitting your sweet spot. Jotaro quickens his pace to match your breathing, watching your knuckles turn white as you grip the chain. He shouldn’t encourage you, given how he daydreamed of getting back at you since first period, but your whining groans and furrowed brows boost his ego too much to stop. He leans close into you, pressing your sweaty chest into his as he captures the jutting bone under your ear between his lips, sucking angrily. You bury your nose in his hair, eyes closing as he singes into something inside you. You take his torso into your arms, pressing him closer, begging without words to keep going and don’t dare stop.
He does.
You seethe, fiery and hot. Jotaro chuckles as you pound your fist into his back, the pressure dissipating into a hollow ache. You grasp at it like straws, clawing at the promise of orgasm that Jotaro holds just out of reach.
“Fucking… prick,” you growl, digging your fingernails into the back of his neck and burning a glare into his eyes.
He huffs, curling his lip with smugness. “What?”
You sneer, gripping the back of his head by his hair with a rough tug. He looks down at you with heavy lids, the blue of his eyes darkened by mischief. You know what he wants, but you don’t want to give it to him.
You have to, if you’re going to get what you need.
“Please,” you pant, rolling your hips against his grip. He raises a brow at your obvious pleading, not expecting you to be so forward. He purses his lips, sliding his tongue between them as he studies your expression.
He cocks his head to the side, nudging more from you. You have to set aside your ego before the pressure that’s been building in your gut dissolves into nothing.
You can’t hide your oversexed expression, lips reddened and salted by sweat. “Please, Jotaro,” you continue, clawing the muscle of his shoulders. He swallows at the mention of his name.
“Please… God… Make me cum…!” you grunt, rolling your eyes as you forfeit your pride to Jotaro, who takes it gladly.
You clench your eyes shut as Jotaro compels his lips onto yours, biting your bottom lip as he drives in and out of you abruptly. You lean into the unexpected but equally captivating kiss as he swallows your groans, pumping into you delectably. Jotaro pulls away from you to bury his nose in your neck, leaving your lips wetted and hot.
Your toes curl as your pelvis burns with building pressure, suddenly heaving you over your limit. Jotaro fights resistance as you tighten, your breath catching in your throat. He chuckles close to your ear, knowing very well that he’s brought you to orgasm, though admittedly not single-handedly. He rides you through it, the added sensitivity from orgasm digging your fingers into his back through his jacket, the scent of his pomade intoxicating.
You finally take in a breath, feeling the curl of Jotaro’s smile against the skin of your neck. With the clarity of oxygen, you resent your body for encouraging Jotaro and affirming his self-satisfaction. You wouldn’t take it back though, your blood running hot and your head feeling light with oxytocin.
Jotaro leans back to assess your face, slowing his pace to stroke stray hairs off of your sweat-slicked forehead. You can only breathe heavily as you recuperate, staring daggers into Jotaro’s pinpointed pupils, both of you almost in disbelief.
Star Platinum raises you higher against his chest, the movement bringing you back to reality. As he settles you back down, your eyes widen with the invitation he takes upon himself to take.
“Hey, asshole,” you growl towards Jotaro, your tone not as intimidating as you hoped they would be.
“You know your anatomy,” Jotaro jests sarcastically. You lurch against Star Platinum’s tip that starts to drill into your hole.
Your expression turns desperate. “No, no way. That thing won’t fit,” you allow yourself to beg.
“Shut up,” Jotaro snaps, not taking you seriously. You wince as Star Platinum pries into you, pain curling your fingers.
You need him to.
You throw your hand onto his throat, squeezing the hollowing softness on each side of his trachea. He startles, eyes going wide for a moment, the hardness of your upper palm pressing into his Adam’s apple. His smug expression falls wayside to a knowing glance.
“No.”
With your staccato command, he relents, rolling his eyes at your ridiculousness. Star Platinum pulls away from you with mercy. Jotaro knows which boundaries he shouldn’t push, apparently.
Star Platinum pulls you up and off of Jotaro’s cock before he turns you towards him, wrapping your legs around his hips as he settles your heat onto his cock. You’re hesitant as you feel the breadth of it against your labia, knowing how much of a struggle it was to fit him into your mouth. The idea of him fitting inside your pussy is about as probable as your ass, but you comply with the rare mercy that they’ve shown you.
Star Platinum slicks himself with your wetness, sliding against you as he gyrates your hips. You watch his face, always careful and calculated. You wonder if he ever speaks or emotes; he must, since he smiled before. As he warms himself with you, though, he’s as stoic as ever. You brace yourself against the back of his neck, offering an exploratory touch of his face with delicate fingers. His eyes follow the sensation of your hand as you follow the angles of his face, returning to look down at you. You pry two fingers between his lips slowly, the plushness unusually similar to Jotaro’s. He opens his mouth for you, allowing you to explore his tongue and the perfect rows of teeth. You smile coolly, scissoring your fingers to take in his tongue between them. His tongue feels parched, but smooth as silk.
You curl your fingers into his lower jaw as he sinks you onto his tip, already stretching you beyond what you think you can take. He rests his top teeth against the bones of your finger, digging his own into the meat of your ass. Jotaro combs your hair back, smoothing it into his grasp. Cool air meets the back of your neck as you strain to accept the girth sliding into you, the aching around your entrance turning to sharp pain.
As he advances, the pain soothes. You relax, and with the release of tension in your muscles, your lips fall agape.
A guttural, desperate groan escapes your throat as you reel against the wave of pleasure that singes deep within your pelvis. You finally spot a genuine grin cross Star Platinum’s lips, licking your fingers tantalizingly. You start to understand why they seemed so insistent on having their fingers in your mouth as his tongue swirls around yours. You return a smile in kind, gasping as he slides flush with your entrance. Your chest peaks as he tempts every limit you have, your legs shaking as you embrace the waves of pleasure.
You tremble as he withdraws, the ridges catching on your entrance. You slide your fingers out of his mouth, the lack of saliva quite ghostlike. You favor the back of his neck, thick and stable.
Jotaro slides his hands along the curve of your waist, watching you rise and fall slowly with Star Platinum’s gentle rhythm. You huff your appreciation for his tenderness, slowly adapting to the texture and size of his cock. You can barely handle the pressure and stretching, eyes clenching shut as you grit your teeth.
Your eyes spring open as Jotaro reaches between the meeting of your bodies and drags his fingers along the softness of your labia. He rolls a finger onto your clitoris, pressing into it just gently enough. He bites his lip as you throw your head back onto his shoulder, struggling to keep what threads are left of your composure together.
Star Platinum pumps into you, testing you forgivingly. Your hips gyrate with Jotaro’s rolling of his fingers, saliva slicking your lower lip as they lay agape. Jotaro bites the folds of your ear, inserting himself back into your thoughts like an attention-starved child. You huff a chuckle in response.
It isn’t long until you relax totally, falling completely into their mercy as you conserve your energy for handling the impacts inside you and the stimulation of your clit. You breathe out nonsense, calling out to Jotaro, though it’s indistinguishable. Jotaro grinds his cock against your coccyx every time Star Platinum lowers you against him; if he weren’t so close to your ear you wouldn’t hear his moaning.
The noises you choke from your throat make Jotaro’s cock twitch, and in a mirrored fashion so does Star Platinum’s. You whine as the ridges contour to the tightness inside you.
Jotaro shares your sentiments, the feeling of your pussy warming his cock through Star Platinum. He wants to be closer, he needs to be closer. He releases your ear with a grunt, his tongue lingering on your skin as Star Platinum quickens his pace.
You grip the nape of Star Platinum’s hair, slippery and lenient. You can’t catch your breath before you feel something else pressing into you, jutting against Star Platinum’s cock.
“W-what…” you mutter, looking back towards Jotaro with heavy lids.
“Shut up,” he repeats, taking your hair into his fist again. You fight the way he cranes your neck backwards, giving him plenty of leverage as he pushes his cock into the already-stretched opening that Star Platinum currently occupies.
You cry out, cursing Jotaro’s name as you ignore his command. Jotaro makes room for himself, working with Star Platinum to push inside you without remorse. Your eyes roll as you clench your jaw with the pressure, squeezing Star Platinum’s hips with your legs.
Oh, God…
You thud your forehead against Star Platinum’s muscle after Jotaro finally releases your scalp, your hair falling to frame your face. Jotaro is too captivated by the tightness around him to do much about it, though. You deal with the overwhelming stimulation by losing yourself to your thoughts. You consider Jotaro’s motives for doing this to you, for antagonizing your limits only to bring you back down to reality with kindness. Why would he keep your face free from the obstruction of your hair and kiss you? You figure he has some semblance of control over Star Platinum; if he does, why is he so gentle? Why are his touches so soft and his thrusts so merciful? Well, aside from the way he stomped your shoulder into the ground.
You’ve run out of time to ponder, Jotaro grinding the finality of his length into you. You whimper and hiss, broken up by air catching in your throat. This shouldn’t be happening, this shouldn’t even be possible, yet here you are, swallowing back spit as Jotaro situates himself comfortably.
“Fuck you…” you utter with what strength you have left, your eyes burning with tears that bud at the corners. You’re not sure what you’re cursing him for more: the invasion of your body, or giving you a pleasure that you’d never thought you’d need so desperately.
Jotaro responds by dragging his hips back, the friction piercing your gut. Your voice rumbles deep in your chest, the sensations overtaking you without hesitation. It’s too much to handle, the remnants of your orgasm creeping through your nerves like a spirit, hollowing your mind. Your cries soothe into breathy groans, only to be piqued once again by Star Platinum’s sudden thrusting. Their combined girths, moving in tandem, rub against spots inside you that you didn’t even know you had. You’ve been learning new things about Jotaro with every moment you’ve spent together, it’s only fitting that you learn something about yourself along the way.
You learn something else as you fight the urge to sink yourself deeper onto them, rolling your hips with their movements. Your sporadic breaths aren’t enough to relieve the lightheadedness that clouds your judgement, lust and primality taking over.
You look up at Star Platinum whose gaze shifts from your body to meet your own, his face indomitable and angular. Through panting breaths and grimaces, you manage a weak smile, lips parted. Jotaro takes some of your weight from Star Platinum as he raises a finger to swipe a stray tear from your cheek, the gesture humbling you. You smile wider, bracing yourself for the heads of their cocks that beat into you over and over again.
You tilt your chin to raise your lips towards his, tongue lolling against the inside of your lower lip. Star Platinum, in his cosmic grace and beauty, sees you with Jotaro’s vision and admiration. Somewhere along the way, Jotaro stopped hating the sight of your face, especially as you beg for contact. You were so different than the hoards of groupies that heckle him for his attention. Taking you was a victory as opposed to a favor; making you beg was a prize as opposed to a nuisance.
The adoration is short-lived. Jotaro’s hat falls wayside on your head before tumbling to the ground. Jotaro watches with a heated scowl as the dirt sullies it, scuffing the golden adornments.
“Fucking bitch…” he growls into your ear, the earthiness to his voice shaking your already crackling core. Jotaro pounds into you, Star Platinum working in tandem to devastate what you thought were your limits. Pleasure scours its way through your gut, piercing the back of your throat as it crescendos.
Jotaro grabs the back of your hair, using it as leverage. You whine into the air, your jaw forced agape as he bends your neck back towards him. Sweat drips from your hairline, coursing down your face with the exertion. Star Platinum takes your jaw into his grip again, fingering your tongue. You sense his devilish nature creeping into the way he pumps into you. You couldn’t handle any more teasing, desperately needing to finish.
“Don’t fucking… stop,” you command, though Jotaro grins as you clearly beg.
Thankfully, he doesn’t tease you like before as you grind your molars into Star Platinum’s fingers and release yourself to orgasm. They fight your tightness, grinding into you relentlessly, your garbled murmurings giving them a final bout of endurance. Your skin is on fire, hardly soothed by the sweat that dots it. Jotaro releases your hair to grab your hips, his breathing quickening with impending exhaustion and his own release.
You huff an incredulous giggle as you hold on for what feels like your life. You can’t think about much else, overwhelmed by the noises you hear creep from Star Platinum’s previously silent presence. A low, rumbling groan thunders against your chest, too absorbed by your own selfish preoccupations to see the anticipatory furrow of his brow. Jotaro holds his breath, the combined sensations capturing all of his attention.
Neither of them bothers to warn you before they release themselves, their cum spurting into you in waves. Your eyes widen at the hot stickiness that fills you, leaking around the point where your bodies meet with nowhere else to go. You feel it pour from you with their intermittent, chaotic thrusting. You suck on Star Platinum’s fingers, feeling your insides stretch even more to accommodate their volumes, only to relax as it drips from you with relief. Jotaro huffs into your hair, hunched over to claim you deeply and thoroughly. The musk of your sexes hovers around you like fog, primal and feral.
Their pumps become increasingly sparse, milking themselves of every last drop. Jotaro and you catch your breaths at different paces, the realization of the absurdity of this situation washing over the both of you gradually. Star Platinum returns his fingers to your hips, his thumbs rubbing little circles into the plushness there.
The compassion he shows soothes you for only a moment before you’re released, sent to the ground like a crumpled tissue. You hiss as your scuffed knees mix with dirt, falling back onto the side of your hip as your arms brace your weight. Jotaro looms down at you, watching whiteness bubble onto the ground from between your legs. Precious oxygen fights with your adrenaline to calm you, exhaustion burning behind your eyes.
You’re too tired to come up with a quip for Jotaro’s harsh treatment of you, your knees aching almost as much as your insides. You let your eyes close, darkening the brightness of the late afternoon sun.
The sticky, softened head of Jotaro’s cock juts against your lips. Lazy lids open to make way for the sight of his cum-slicked length, asking entrance unforgivingly.
“Clean it,” Jotaro murmurs, holding the base to angle his cock better. You look up at him expecting a punchline, huffing through parted lips, only to meet his blush-sheathed expression that tells you there is no joke.
You start to say “fuck off”, but you’re interrupted by his tip prying between your lips. You wince at the taste of your combined fluids, his cum bittersweet and earthy. Your tongue rolls over his softening hardness, doing as you’re asked reluctantly. His breathy moan encourages you, though, as you contemplate spitting the juices that collect in your mouth back at him.
You take him deeper into your mouth, swallowing the evidence of your fucking with a grimace. Jotaro hums deeply, the peristalsis of your throat almost too much for his post-orgasm sensitivity.
You release his cock from your lips with a hollow pop, licking your lips to clear remnants of cum. Just when you think you’ve finally been enough for him, Star Platinum appears before you. His softening length is equally as intimidating as the last time it slid between your lips. Luckily, he’s merciful as your tongue works to gather the mess into your throat. You sigh with your nose, his palm rising to gingerly cradle the back of your head.
Jotaro’s thumb hooks the side of your cheek, stretching your lips to expose the rows of your teeth. He fills the newfound space with his cock back into your mouth, their softening lengths manageable together as your tongue slips between them.
You reach between your legs, cum pooling in your cupped fingers. The heat and stickiness of it would sicken you if you weren’t so impressed, Jotaro’s ability to put you into your place as equally disgusting as it is exciting. You figure-eight your tongue around their heads, lapping at what remains of your combined cum.
They pull away from you slowly, their cocks dragging against your chin. Your face twists as Star Platinum ushers your mouth onto Jotaro’s balls, the coarse hair combining with slickness that you work to clear from the base of his cock and below. Air huffs from your nose as you take one of his balls into your mouth. Jotaro grunts after you’ve made good work of them. Finally, Star Platinum releases your head with a toss of his hand, taking a moment to brush disheveled hair from your sweat-slicked face. You smile, lips shiny with spit and cum, finally able to take a full breath and look up at the hazy-eyed pair.
You fall back onto your calves, ignoring the pain in your knees and the gushing from between your legs. You pay more attention to Jotaro who offers you a look you’ve never seen before on his face. It’s relief; he’s regained his composure and authority over you after you took it from him. The power goes to his head, back on top after being kicked so low. He tucks himself back into his slacks and secures his belt into place with a clamoring of the metal and a tug of the leather.
You hate that he’s won almost as much as you hate admitting defeat. In a final act of defiance, you grab the hem of Jotaro’s jacket with trembling fingers. He can only watch as you swipe the fabric of it against your cum-covered fingers and then between your legs, cleaning yourself as well as you did Jotaro and Star Platinum. Jotaro musters a scowl through his exhaustion, your antagonistic expression taking a bit away from his victory.
He rolls his eyes, suppressing the urge to kick you while you’re down. Instead, just a second after you drop his jacket, Star Platinum hauls you onto your feet roughly from under your arms. Your legs wobble and ache, kept in one position for too long, your blood pressure dropping with the sudden change in position. Jotaro yanks you by the sleeve of your shirt towards him, almost sending you toppling back onto the ground.
You’d have surely fallen if not for Jotaro’s supportive embrace around your shoulder, holding you close to him. You swallow, clearing your throat of the taste of cum and spit, taking the chain that dangles close to your face into your hand.
Star Platinum picks up and dusts off Jotaro’s hat before placing it back onto his head, obfuscating his avoidant expression. You rest your head into the strength of his shoulder, taking a moment to collect yourself and assess Star Platinum who watches you carefully, as if he’s waiting for an attack at any moment.
Instead of spitting or slapping, you grin lazily. It grows when Star Platinum returns the expression, his lips molding around the angles of his features. Jotaro focuses on the horizon to your right, watching for movement and headlights as dusk begins to cast an auburn haze around you. You expect Jotaro to do something, to say something, but he remains ardently focused on anything but you. He seems just as lost as to what to do now as you do.
You fill the silence the only way you know how.
“Didn’t even buy me dinner first,” you banter, your voice wavering with exertion and a failed attempt at humor.
Jotaro scoffs, hiding his eyes in the shadow of his hat. He’s incensed, his hat dirtied and his jacket stickied. Through it, though, Star Platinum brings together what’s left of the buttons of your shirt and smooths your skirt against your legs before bending over to slide the hem of your thigh-high back into place. You conveniently ignore the cum that pools there, soaking into the fabric.
“He’s so sweet. How are you such a dick?” you sneer, watching Star Platinum’s eyes glisten with the compliment. You offer him a tousle of his hair, rubbing your palm into his head in gratitude.
“Shut up, bitch,” Jotaro gripes, digging his fingers into your shoulder. You see right through him, his attitude almost as transparent as yours.
You jerk his chain, jostling him closer to your face. He curls his lip as you peck his cheek, though he doesn’t weaken his hold on you.
“Forget my address,” Jotaro grumbles.
Your expression falls, knowing he was tossing you aside just as easily as he did after finishing inside of you. You’re not sure what else you expected from him; you’re even less understanding of your own motives. All you know is that in that moment, you don’t want him to let you go. You can’t let him win any more than he already has, including casting you aside as if you were nothing. You open your mouth to protest, but for once, you’ve been knocked speechless.
“Unless,” he continues quietly, “you’re coming back for more.”
You jab Jotaro’s side with your knuckles. He finally meets your gaze amicably, the lack of antagonization warming his features. You suppress the urge to wipe the smile off of his face, accepting your forced forfeiture reluctantly.
If this was losing, you wonder what winning would be like.
Tags:
Explicit Sexual Content
Teasing
Sexual Tension
Creampie
Double Penetration in One Hole
Double Vaginal Penetration
Double Oral Penetration
Overstimulation
Multiple Sex Positions
Dominance
Power Dynamics
Threesome - F/M/M
Public Humiliation
Manhandling
Restraints
Spit Kink
Blow Jobs
Mild Painplay
Vaginal Fingering
Breasts
Nipple Play
Snark
Banter
Orgasm Delay/Denial
Multiple Orgasms
Begging
Boundaries
Come Shot
Outdoor Sex
request fic
Submission
Standcest (JoJo)
Rough Sex
Rough Body Play
94 notes
·
View notes