Posted originally on the Archive_of_Our_Own at https://archiveofourown.org/
works/8676289.
  Rating:
      Explicit
  Archive Warning:
      Underage
  Category:
      F/M, M/M
  Fandom:
      ジョジョの奇妙な冒険_|_JoJo_no_Kimyou_na_Bouken_|_JoJo's_Bizarre_Adventure
  Relationship:
      Higashikata_Tomoko/Joseph_Joestar, Higashikata_Daiya/Higashikata
      Norisuke, Higashikata_Josuke/Kujo_Jotaro, Higashikata_Josuke/Kujo_Holly,
      Jean_Pierre_Polnareff/Sherry_Polnareff
  Character:
      Higashikata_Tomoko, Joseph_Joestar, Higashikata_Norisuke, Higashikata
      Daiya, Higashikata_Josuke, Kujo_Jotaro, Jean_Pierre_Polnareff, Sherry
      Polnareff
  Additional Tags:
      Drabbles, Hurt/Comfort, Spanking, Office_Sex, Cuddling_&_Snuggling,
      Bathing/Washing, Sibling_Incest, Half-Sibling_Incest
  Stats:
      Published: 2016-11-27 Updated: 2017-03-11 Chapters: 5/? Words: 2249
****** Twitter Request Drabbles ******
by harabote
Summary
     Just some ship requests from Twitter to get over art block.
***** Joseph/Tomoko, "Acceptance" *****
As things were now, Joseph Joestar could not stand to be alone.
Though it had happened well over two years ago now, his gorgeous wife’s funeral
is ever fresh in his mind. There isn’t a moment he doesn’t think of her in some
capacity, wondering why it had to be her and why it had to be so soon. After
all they had gone through together, illness claimed her at the young age of 58,
and he hadn’t really felt the same since.
So why was it that, with memories of his wife filling his thoughts, he could
somehow bring himself to spend time with another woman? She was gorgeous, but
nothing like her. Where Suzie would coddle him, Tomoko would scold him. Where
his wife was the best cook in the world, Tomoko’s inexperience shone through.
While he could make love to his wife, all he and Tomoko could do was fuck.
But the differences, he thinks, are what made it easier. She’s no replacement
for Suzie, Tomoko is merely Tomoko. Joseph knows better than anyone that he’ll
never find someone like his wife again for as long as he lives, but he doesn’t
want to replace her. Even if it still hurts, he doesn’t want to forget, he
wants comfort. Though Suzie can’t help him anymore, Tomoko can. She makes it
easy to relax when it feels impossible.
So even if it feels different to have Tomoko in his arms, even if her hair
isn’t the curly locks he’s used to and the language she speaks isn’t the one
he’s used to hearing, he’s not alone, and she makes it easier to accept that
his wife is gone.
Blinking the sleep out of his eyes only to lay defeated and close them once
again, he thanks Suzie for being there for him when she could, and apologizes
for not waiting for her. As Tomoko squirms in his arms, sleepy and warm, he
lets himself enjoy this while it lasts, and promises to let Suzie scold him
once he catches up to her.
***** Norisuke/Daiya, "Fireplace" *****
Winter was probably Daiya’s least favorite time of year. Even if she couldn’t
see much, at least in summer and fall, she could see splotches of color
decorating the world. In winter, there was only white. There wasn’t much for
her to really do with failing eyesight and a lot of snow, so from the moment it
began, she wished it would end and bring a little color back into her life.
But.
To say there were no upsides would be a lie. She couldn’t get brain freeze and
ice cream was cheaper in winter, Joushuu usually stayed in his room and stayed
quiet in an attempt to stay warm, and right here, right now, she could spend
time with her favorite person in the world and stay that way as long as she
wanted.
Maybe it was wrong to be so attached to him. He’s her father, after all, and to
look forward to nightly cuddles like this was probably not acceptable. She was
sixteen—hadn’t girls usually grown out of this by the time they were six?
But here, in her favorite position, snuggled on his lap with her ear against
his chest, she could hear every little sound he made, voluntary and otherwise.
Between the fireplace and his body, she couldn’t ask for a better
heater—especially one that doubled as a pillow. It was the epitome of comfort,
expertly lulling her to sleep when nothing else could on cold nights like this.
Even if it was wrong, he let her stay there, and she reveled in the closeness.
Maybe, if she could keep this up, winter would be her favorite time of year
after all.
***** Joutarou/Jousuke, "Ass" *****
It isn’t the first time Jousuke’s been pushed up against the wall, wrists held
tightly in his nephew’s fist and held still like he’s about to be devoured
whole, but it’s a first in Joutarou’s tiny, cramped, unable to be locked
office.
Shivers run up his spine when Joutarou grabs the thick meat of his ass,
kneading the fat under his palm like a cat, but Jousuke can’t find it in
himself to complain even in the cramped space. His nephew has always been like
this around him, and it’s never been unwelcome. He couldn’t find fault with a
man that handsome feeling him up if he tried.
“Your body is so lewd.” Joutarou’s words are only a low grumble in his throat,
vibrating through Jousuke’s entire being just through whispers in his ear. As
if he needed help making them any redder. “Your waist is so thin, but your hips
are so wide. Your body is practically made for me to fuck.”
“Shit,” it’s hard to reign himself in when Joutarou talks like that. He’s
already needy, hips squirming under Joutarou’s hands in a silent plea to be
touched skin-to-skin, fucked as hard as Joutarou’s promising. He’s almost
relieved when he pulls away, but when he turns, he sees his nephew sitting in
his office chair, the poor old thing squeaking under his weight, and watches as
he pats his lap.
“Take off your pants.”
It’s a strange request. When he undoes his belt, Jousuke wonders if he’s going
to have to ride him in that chair (which doesn’t sound like it can stand
Joutarou very well, let alone the weight of two men), but Joutarou stays
completely clothed despite the ever-growing tent in his pants.
The moment his pants hit the floor, Jousuke is thrown onto his lap by a
mysterious force—one that he’s sure was Star Platinum—and repositioned by
Joutarou himself. The way he can pick him up with little to no effort and
adjust him like he’s nothing is merely more fuel to the fire in Jousuke’s
stomach, which grows larger and larger the closer Joutarou’s hand gets to his
bare ass.
They connect, but there’s no hint of a squeeze, nor does he feel any lube.
“Joutarou-san?”
He looks up to meet his face, and he’s not sure if he should be hot and
bothered or just bothered. He certainly doesn’t look happy, but he’s not sure
what happened. Yeah, Joutarou just looked like that sometimes, but—
“I told you not to bother me at work.”
Oh. Oh shit.
“I just wanted to bring you some lunch.”
“Nevertheless, I told you not to come by while I’m working. You distract me too
much. Do you know how much your body turns me on? I’ll never get any work done
like this.” He certainly sounds angry, but his erection is still prominent and
pressing against his chest, not to mention he’s feeling up Jousuke’s bare ass.
What the hell?
“I guess I’ll have to make sure you remember.”
Once Jousuke realizes what’s going on, it’s too late to pull away. Joutarou
pulls his hand off just far enough to slam it back down and onto his ass, which
makes the high schooler whimper in pain. He hadn’t expected that to hurt so
badly, but Joutarou’s hands were so big and thick, it was no wonder it stung.
But, even though it hurt… no, maybe because it did hurt, he didn’t hate it. His
own cock throbbed with need, precum leaking onto the biologist’s white pants
from it all.
“Joutarou—”
Another slap, hitting the same spot as the last one. Jousuke’s moan
reverberated through the small space, but a ghostly purple hand cut it short.
“Do you want other people to hear that badly?”
Jousuke gulped, knowing what was coming next.
“I guess I’ll have to punish you for longer than I thought.”
***** Jousuke/Holly, "bathtime" *****
“You know, Kuujou-san, you really don’t have to—”
“Nonsense! This is what big sisters do, right?”
Despite an age gap of forty-one years, what Holly said wasn’t wrong. However,
to Jousuke, who had never seen a woman naked before in his entire life (outside
of a magazine Okuyasu had found in a gutter once) and hadn’t met his sister
until recently, this felt less like familial bonding and more like the
beginning of some low-budget porn. His eyes could barely look away—the moment
he saw her large, heavy breasts in plain sight, it was like he was glued to
them. Despite their age difference, he would never have guessed she was in her
fifties; her body, even with the few stretchmarks on her stomach and small
wrinkles on her face, she was absolutely perfect, and so painfully obviously
his type.
He didn’t even know he had a type!
The worst part was that the situation had gotten dangerous fast. She was nice
enough to wash his back and he had the free moment to cover his shame and keep
himself from staring at her, but the memory of her body was stuck in his mind
and nothing, absolutely nothing could get it out. Even the innocent way she
hummed as she scrubbed his body had him getting excited. He’d only be able to
keep the charade up for so long!
The scrubbing stopped suddenly, and his mind filled with worst-case scenarios.
Would she kick him out? Make fun of him? Tell his mom? Tell Joutarou? Maybe if
he was lucky enough, he’d slip on the floor and crack open his skull before—
“Jousuke-kun? Could you wash my back for me?”
Thankfully this would buy him more time, but even the sight of her back was
getting him harder. What was with him!? Of course he was a virgin, but he never
expected this little to turn him on. If anyone found out about it, he’d die of
the embarrassment alone, he was sure.
Hesitantly, he pressed his washcloth to her back. He was gentle as could be at
first, worried that touching her too hard would break her or something, but
eventually getting into a better pace and rhythm and building up a fair amount
of soap.
Leaning forward a bit to dig into her shoulders, he slipped, grabbing onto
Holly to minimize the fall and keep from slamming his head onto the tile floor.
Of course, the moment he realized what he was doing, he pulled himself away
with a whimper. “I-I’m so sorry Kuujou-san—”
“Are you okay, Jousuke-kun?” Holly looked behind herself, only able to see
Jousuke standing upright, and breathed a sigh of relief. At least he was okay.
“Ohh, I thought I had felt something.”
“I, wha—”
“It’s understandable. There’s nothing to be embarrassed about, Jousuke-kun.
You’re a growing boy, after all!”
Once he looked down, realizing he had inadvertently pressed against her, he
wondered if Crazy Diamond’s fist would be strong enough to punch his own lights
out to get out of his horrible situation. He hadn’t even realized her getting
closer, only coming back to his senses when she asked in a soft, sing-song
voices “Do you need some help?”
***** Booboos *****
Chapter Summary
     Kisses are the way to heal even the worst of booboos.
The sting of hydrogen peroxide is familiar, but doesn’t burn any less. It’s not
the worst he’s ever felt, of course not, but having to sit still while his
wounds burn and ache is a small form of torture in itself.
“Stop squirming you big baby!” Sherry lightly pats his bruised upper thigh,
which just makes the Frenchman whine louder. His sister, as cute as she is, has
her cheeks puffed out in frustration. “I don’t know how you manage to come home
looking like baloney every day. I swear, if this is from that Joutarou guy—”
“Stop, stop!” His whimpering, pathetic as it is, stops her in her tracks.
Polnareff pulls his arm close to his chest, closely eyeing one of the deeper
wounds she had just been working on. By the look on his face, she guesses she
must have been too rough.
“It’d be over faster if you didn’t move so much.” Sherry’s soft, freckled face
isn’t very threatening, but she’s trying, even if she’s not nearly as
intimidating as her muscley older brother.
Her hands reach out for his arm again, this time holding it gently, silently
coaxing him back into her care. Polnareff gives in, of course—how is he
supposed to say no to her?—but he’s still pouting. It’s cute, even if he’s a
little too old for it to be.
“Joutarou actually saved me from that fight,” he admits softly, pride obviously
hurt a little more than he was. This earns little surprise from the smaller of
the two siblings, who is too busy opening a band-aid to really reply. If she
were to be honest, she doesn’t really like that Joutarou guy, but Sherry knows
admitting that will get her nowhere. Instead, she hums in acknowledgement,
eager to change the subject back. Her palms glide over his now patched-up arm,
practically good as new (ignoring all the big splotches of purple and green).
“How do you feel now?”
“Good, but, ah, you forgot the most important part!”
“Hm?”
“The kiss!”
Her curly black hair bounces as she snorts, but she gives in easily enough.
Polnareff lifts his arm to give her easier access, her plump lips spoiling his
arm with attention. She’s thorough, kissing every individual bruise and bandage
before lifting off of him with a coy smile. “Feel better, Jean?”
“Ohh, but Sherry!” He waves an arm over his head dramatically, feigning pain.
Sherry giggles all the while. “Only a kiss on the lips will help me recover!”
“Jeez, then say something from the beginning, you big doofus…” She closes the
space between them, and suddenly, Polnareff’s body doesn’t ache anymore.
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