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The sun hasnt set yet but it cast a pink hue across the expanse of the azure sky. The aircon in the room whirred silently as Jotaro’s grip over your waist tightened and loosened. His eyes remain closed as his fingers unconcsciuosly trailed up and down your bare arm, often brushing against the thin strap of your ivory nightgown.
The strap thetered on the edge of your shoulder, threatening to expose your cleavage with the slightest movement. Jotaro’s arm made further travel and found purchase in your abdomen, bringing you even more closer to him, where possible. His thumb stroked a small expanse of your stomach over its satin sheath and let out a barely audible grunt as you manoeuvred your back into his chest.
His eyes fluttered open, flustered at the sudden proximity of his wife, but it soon fell back as the temporary shock passed, into its droopy state as he drank in your figure. His eyes traveled from your ankles to your waist, where he stared, realising that your dress had hiked up to your thighs, your white cotton underwear peeking from under the recesses of your ivory nightgown of the same material. He smiled to himself as he absentmindedly stroked your waist, thumb over the band of your panties whilst staring at your face, comitting to memory the shape of your nose and the curve of your lip, the intensity of the darkness of your eyelashes and the pattern of your hair splayed out on the immaculately white sheets.
His mind wandered to the past marvelling at all the signs he had missed from you, wincing at the thought if he hadnt made an effort to confess. He let out a grateful sigh, admiring the ring he put on your finger. You clutched at his arm, turning around in the process. He pulled down your dress and brought you closer to him.
The sun has set, delving the streets of Morioh-cho into an inky blue darkness. You let out a sharp exhale of breath before opening your eyes to meet those of your husband's.
'Hello Jotaro', you mused.
'Hello [Y/N],' he sleepily grinned back. You reached out your hand to stroke his cheek, allowing yourself to momentarily perish in the sea of his cerulean irises, before coming to life as he pressed a kiss on your shoulder. You caught a whiff of your shampoo on his head and gently stroked his hair, which he had invested most of his time into. His hair wasn’t as soft as it looked, but you enjoyed running your hands through it, indulging in the content look that he gave you. You pecked his neck as his thumb rubbed up and down your arm and you took that hand, entwined it with yours. You marvelled at the drastic contrast in size and shakily inhaled as he gripped your hand in his and pressed open mouthed kisses onto your wrist.
You brought your lips towards his hand, allowing it to graze over his vein-wrought hand, whilst maintaining eye contact with him. He watched intently as you did so, letting a satisfied groan in the process, never forgetting the way your lips puckered, each time you intended to kiss his hand.