♡ (𝐉𝐉𝐁𝐀 𝐱 𝐑𝐞𝐚𝐝𝐞𝐫) ♡ DAMN LEMONY GOOD

『(Jotaro x Reader): Cyberpunk Crimson Phantom (AU)

Dark theme recommended / Theme: Cyberpunk; Future Japan in 2377
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It was a dark cloudy night. The light pollution of the city illuminated the clouds above in neon pinks, reds and blues. Upon the dash of my model 2370 cyberbike the weather lady predicted a wild storm coming in next to the address on the screen.

"Temperatures heading down from 60 to 54..."

I take the next route like the gps recommends. This, was Route 1A. My favorite place to drive, and race illegally on the occasion because of its pristine glass rainbow bride.

I gaze at the bridge, its bright lights against the backdrop of the city pulling me in for a frenzy.

When I realize I'm going 70 in a 30 zone, it's too late. I have to dodge a car on the clear glass hybrid overpass which slams its breaks on the wetted glass.

"Dammit," I guide the bike to the nearest exit as rain begins to poor down from the sky. Good thing I'm wearing my hoodie instead of my race suit.

When the time comes I pull into the correct alleyway, spotting Josuke and his mediocre circus of punks. They squint their eyes at my bright headlights when I roll up. I turn them off and grip my handle annoyed.

"Fuck are you doing?" I shout to him, my voice muffled through the foam of my helmet. I take off my helmet, letting my (h/c) hair crash down on my shoulders. Josuke nonchalantly opens his halophone and shrugs with an irritated expression.

"What does it look like?"

I look up at the exit's address. "890 Mizu...A strip club? Really?"

"Hey, Tuesday nights has one free drink!" One of his idiot friends chime. I point at him.

"Shut the fuck up Okuyasu. Josuke. Get your ass back home and finish what the hell you started."

"Josuke," The blonde boy next to them calls. "Put that broad on a leech or something. She's irritating." If I can remember correctly, his name is Giorno, otherwise known as bitchass. I stare at him.

"Shut up bitchass."

"Alright, enough (Y/n)." Josuke buts in tiredly. I look at my wrist watch, throwing a fit.

"It's ten. You're late. I said be done by noon. I can't trust you for shit!" I lunge a dart I had in my pocket at Giorno, still pissed off at his comment.

It's honestly unbelievable me, Josuke, and his delinquent tag alongs were the same age, while my coach Jotaro was two years older then me. It's even more hard to believe Josuke and Jotaro were even cousins, and unfortunately I'm dating one of the idiots.

Josuke here is my so called handy mechanic, and he always somehow manages to dip at the wrong times.

"I have a fucking race tomorrow, what do you not get about that?" Josuke steps closer to me, asserting his male dominance.