Investment
Jotaro x reader
Words: 1938
Authors Note: Ok so I posted this on my Ao3, but then I decided I wanted to post it on my Tumblr too, so here’s me breaking my inactivity to do this. I initially had Rohan in mind for this one, but then I was going through a Jotaro phase so it became a Jotaro fic instead. Enjoy.
You both walked back from dinner to your apartment. At this point, the sky was devoid of most light, save for the growing ambient glow of the moon. Walking alongside him, his arms swung back and forth, and his eyes searched your face.
“Are you mad at me?”
You fought to not roll your eyes.
“No, it’s fine.”
“My mom always told me that meant the person was actually angry”
“Well did your mommy forget to tell you you should compliment your girlfriend more?”
“What do you mean?”
You stopped walking and looked at him, his eyes conveying a genuine lack of understanding.
“I mean, I spent four hours getting ready, and all I got was a ‘you look pretty’ and then no other acknowledgements of how I looked. You didn’t check me out, you didn’t seem to have refrain yourself from touching me, and not once were you so overwhelmed by my beauty that you had to interrupt me to tell how stunning I am.”
He co*cked an eyebrow at you.
“You read too much romance.”
“I know, and I also know it’s kind of silly of me to be this upset. But I put so much effort in, pushed myself so far out of my comfort zone, and felt so confident in myself, so to just get a three word compliment and nothing more kind of hurts.”
“Ya, but why would I have to keep telling you how good you look? You know I think you’re beautiful; I’m dating you.”
“I know you do, but it’s nice to hear it. Look, you probably spent, what, an hour getting ready? Maybe two? But I think I spent the whole night gushing over how cute you looked. Because even though I know you know that I think you’re handsome, I wanted to make sure you knew that I saw the effort you put in to looking nice tonight, which I would like too. To have my efforts feel seen.”
“Well, it’s not like I asked you to spend four hours getting ready. You made that choice on your own.”
You dragged your nails over your face, feeling exasperated at how unrelenting your boyfriend was.
“Look, whatever. I don’t feel like standing here and arguing. Let’s just go.”
You started walking again, your heels returning their attack on the blisters you had developed from a week of practicing walking in them.
“I don’t see how I’m in the wrong, though.”
That was enough to cause you to stall and grind your teeth.
“Jotaro, it’s not about being ‘right’ or ‘wrong’. I already admitted this was a ridiculous thing for me to be upset about, so I can tell you right now I don’t even think I’m ‘right’. But you asked if I was upset, so I told you. I’m just hurt. I mean, how hard would it be for you to say ‘I’m sorry’ and vow to compliment me more than once next time I get dressed up? Apparently too f*cking hard, because then you would be ‘wrong’.”
“Ok, fine then. I’m sorry.”
You turned around and started walking, hoping that he wouldn’t see that your eyes were starting to water.
“I don’t want an apology if you have to force it. I’m going home. You should too.”
You hated this. You both were, for the most part, go-with-the-flow people. Hardly ever did you both get worked up, and usually never over such trivial things. So you felt slightly ridiculous while walking away, damn near crying over your boyfriend’s characteristic lack of verbal affection. What did you expect? He was like this when you met him, why would you think he would change.
“I don’t want you to do that. I’m not comfortable with you just walking home alone after dark. We don’t have to talk, just let me walk you home.”
“Fine.”
You continued walking, and heard the constant fall of his feet behind you. He never made any effort to walk beside you. You weren’t sure if that was because he needed space, or if that was his attempt at giving you some.
“You know, walking a few feet behind me makes you look exactly like the kind of creep you were worrying about me encountering.”
He pulled out his creepy voice, a cross between Gollum and a fedora wearing Reddit mod.
“I just think you’re so pretty, I wanted to walk behind you in the hopes of catching a whiff of your delectable pheromones. Mmmm, I’m catching some hints of bergamot, and, mmm, maybe some violet.”
He sniffed deeply and you looked back to see him theatrically scooping the air towards his face. His eyes were closed and his lips pursed.
“Is that a little bit of fart I’m smelling? Did you toot, darling? You know that I love such a sudden and immodest noise.”
You tried to keep the laugh in your chest, let it die there and potentially kill you rather than risk letting him know he made you crack. But you couldn’t hold it in, not when he quoted James Joyce’s greatest work.
“Stop, you sound like a f*cking perv.”
But you were laughing and so was he. Until an “ow” escaped your lips and you had to bend down to rub the festering blister, as though that would somehow help it. You heard his footsteps continue until his deep blue shoes came up right next to your shiny black ones.
“What’s wrong?”
“Oh, these heels are giving me blisters, and my boyfriend didn’t offer me any salve in the form of compliments to ease the pain and make it worthwhile.”
“Maybe I should stop asking that question.”
Right as you were about to crane your neck to glare at him, he bent over to be at eye level with you.
“I’m sorry. And I know you’re still mad at me, but let me carry you home. We don’t have to talk, and you don’t even have to acknowledge me. You can pretend that you’re being carried home by the wind, or a super hot ghost. But please let me help you.”
“Oh, so you’re gonna try to white knight yourself out of this one?”
You rolled your eyes, but wrapped your arms around his neck and let his hand come under your knees, as this was the least he could do for you was this. He stood up like he was carrying a plushie and carried you without complaint. It was silent for a few minutes, until you came under the warm light of a street lamp, where he decided to stop and peer down at you. You looked back at him, waiting for him to explain why the breeze that was carrying you home died out all of the sudden. But he just stood there with a goofy smile on his face, his body twisting back and forth, almost like he was rocking a baby.
“What are you doing?”
“Your face looks really pretty in this lighting.”
“But not in the lighting of the restaurant, right?”
“Nope. Those lights made you look hideous. Now you look alright.”
“Glad the feeling was mutual. I was holding back gags the whole time we were there, because looking at your face just proved to be too much.”
“Ohhh, I thought that was disgust for the food. Well, thank you for the clarification.”
“You’re welcome. I think I would’ve been less disgusted finding a pube hair in my food than looking at your face.”
“Well, I would’ve been less disgusted by the waiter clipping his toenails on the table than looking at your face.”
“I would’ve been less disgusted by the waiter admitting he wanted to have a body pillow made with a fully nude picture of me than looking at yours.”
“I’ll just let him have mine,” Jotaro retorted, again using his creepy voice.
That sent you both into a laughing fit, and you held onto his shoulders a little tighter as he shook from laughter. Coming down from the high of it, he looked at you smiling, his eyes telling you the one thing you wanted to hear all night: that you were beautiful to him, in ways that were easily felt but difficult to explain. But, responding to your needs, he decided to try.
“I love you. And I really do think you’re beautiful, in every lighting. I’m sorry for not telling you that, but I guess I figured you’d already know. But that’s an excuse. Just because you know that you are an angel walking amongst men, that shouldn’t stop me from telling you that. It wouldn’t kill me to tell you how your eyeliner kept drawing me in and I was afraid I was making too much eye contact. And it wouldn't hurt to let you know your dress was driving me crazy all night. And that lipstick is the perfect shade for you. And you smelled so warm, like flowers in the summer. And your skin is so glowy I wanted to hold the candle that was on the table up to your face to see the way the light reflected off of different points of your face, but I didn’t because that would’ve been really weird and probably a fire hazard.”
“Well, you had me until the last part. If you had done that I probably would’ve just taken up with the hypothetical body pillow waiter.”
“And I wouldn’t have blamed you. Honestly, I wouldn't blame you even if you chose him now, because he probably wouldn’t have been a douchey boyfriend and not complemented you. In fact, I think with him you’d be drowning in compliments.”
“Ya, all the wrong kinds.”
“I don’t know, I think a dude telling you you have the perfect voice for a hentai would be a compliment of the highest degree.”
“I think the only degree here is the severity of whatever crime he ends up being convicted of.”
“Well, while he’s in jail could I get a second chance?”
“I guess. He did say this could be a good opportunity for us to explore other options. Personally, I think he’s been cheating on me. I’ve seen him on dating sites before.”
“What, 23andMe?”
You laughed, and in his arms you melted.
“And Ancestry.com. Now take me home, good steed.”
“Neighh, alright.”
It was only a few more minutes until you arrived, but you wanted it to take an hour. After making up, there was a warmth between the two of you, and you didn’t want it to end. You caressed the back of his neck as you held on, and he would, on occasion, look down at you and smile fondly. Soon you made it to your front door, and you felt him grip you just a little more securely, as though he’d hold you forever just to keep you from going. But he eventually let you down, and you went to unlock the front door. Since it was a task that required only muscle memory as opposed to your full attention, you were able to turn your head to look at him, and found him staring down at you, the lovesick smile still engraved on his face.
“You know, you’re more than welcome to spend the night. If you want.”
“And if I want to spend every night thereafter?”
“I wouldn’t blame you, but that’ll require a little more of an investment on your end.”
“The kind that goes on your ring finger?”
“Maybe…”
You turned around and led him into the apartment, while unbeknownst to you he fiddled with the investment contained in the box in his pocket.
