I’m So…. Head So Full. Send Me Requests Or Asks Or Anything Really. I Want To Talk To You Guys.

attention all writers! tumblr is rolling out a new feature that allows our work to be used in ai training processes!

be sure to opt out of this in your visibility settings immediately! and remember, you have to opt out for each blog, not just your main!

go to your blogs’ settings (again, you have to do these steps for each blog, not just your main blog)

scroll until you see “visibility” and choose that

in your visibility settings, choose “prevent third-party sharing for (blog name)”

you may opted out already but we don’t take chances with ai around these parts *insert angry cowboy*

tagging some mutuals to get the word out — @multifandomsimagine @pegxcarter @moremaybank @gladerscake @goldenroutledge @thatsthewaythechrissycrumbles @drewstarkeyslut @drudyslut @tangledinlove @rafeandonlyrafe @mvybanks

Jason Todd x m!reader - Red Light

thinking .... mmmmm

smut below the cut

WORD COUNT : 1,983

Contains UNSAFE driving practices and some public play !! Read responsibly !!

You’d barely pulled up to the light before Jason’s arms tightened around your waist, and you felt the shift. Not just him scooting closer for warmth or balance—no, this was intentional. His chest pressed flush to your back, chin resting on your shoulder, and then there it was:

His hand, slipping under your jacket. Then under your shirt.

Cool fingers dragging along your stomach.

"Jay,” you mutter, adjusting your grip on the handlebars. “Don’t start.”

“M’not doing anything,” he says way too innocently, nuzzling against your neck. “Just keepin’ warm.”

But then the light stays red a second too long.

And his hand starts to wander.

You feel him undo the button on your jeans with a quick, practiced flick of his fingers. One second he’s warm and cozy, the next he’s in your pants, fingers brushing against your already half-hard cock like he knew what he was doing.

“Jay,” you warn again, more strained this time.

“What? Can’t help it,” he says, voice low and full of that smug, shit-eating grin you don’t even need to see to know is plastered across his face. “You look hot like this. All big and growly on your bike. Makes me wanna ruin your focus."

The light turns green.

You expect him to stop. To behave, at least until the next stop.

But instead? He tightens his legs around your waist and keeps going, fingers curling around your cock, slow and deliberate.

“Jason,” you grit, trying to breathe through the heat curling up your spine. “We’re in traffic.”

“Yeah,” he murmurs, pressing a kiss just above your jacket collar, where your helmet doesn't cover. “So don’t crash, babe.”

The little shit just starts jerking you off while you’re driving, like it’s nothing. The way he tugs slow and firm, fingers teasing over the head—he knows exactly what he’s doing, and he’s delighting in your struggle to keep it together.

Every bump in the road makes you jolt in his grip, and you swear he’s grinding against your back on purpose.

“You're gonna kill us both,” you mutter through clenched teeth.

“Guess that means you better finish quick, huh?”

He knows he’s fucked.

You don’t say a word as you step off the bike, but Jason knows. He sees the way your jaw’s clenched, the way your hands flex at your sides.

He doesn’t even make it past the kitchen.

You grab him by the back of his jacket, slam him up against the counter hard enough to rattle the spice rack, and then twist him around to bend him right over the table.

“Thought you were funny, huh?” you growl against his ear, already undoing his jeans with practiced, angry fingers. “Touching me like that on the road. Could’ve wrecked us.”

“Mmm, but we didn’t,” he says with a smirk you can hear in his voice, even as his breath catches. “You always drive better with a little pressure, babe.”

You shove his jeans down far enough to expose that ridiculously perfect ass and palm it roughly, giving it a hard slap that makes him jolt, the table creaking under him.

“Oh, you’re so full of it,” you mutter. “Bet you’ve been thinking about this the whole damn ride. Just needed to poke the bear.”

He doesn’t deny it.

Instead, he pushes his hips back into you, taunting, like he’s begging for it.

“Well?” Jason’s voice is thick now, low and fucked. “You gonna do something about it?”

You answer with your teeth.

Biting the back of his neck, pressing your hips flush to his bare ass, grinding against him slow and hard just to make him squirm. He gasps, hands scrambling for purchase against the table, because you haven’t even touched his cock yet, and he’s already leaking.

“Look at you,” you murmur, dragging your cock along his entrance, not even pushing in—just rubbing it there to drive him insane. “You wanted to ruin me, Jay. But now you’re the one begging.”

Jason’s voice is hoarse now. “Fuckin’ take me, already—”

And you do.

One smooth, deep thrust has him arching over the table, a ragged moan tearing from his throat as your hips snap into him. You don’t hold back. You don’t go easy. Not after what he pulled.

You ruin him.

Thrust after punishing thrust, hand in his hair to yank his head back, teeth at his throat, your other hand wrapped tight around his cock, stroking in time with every movement.

“So cocky,” you growl, biting down on his shoulder. “But you love getting fucked like this. Bent over, used. My pretty little backseat bitch.”

Jason loses it.

Moaning, gasping, body trembling as you work him harder, rougher, until his knees start to buckle.

“Fuck, fuck—I’m—” he chokes, and you stroke him faster, fucking into him so deep he screams into the crook of his arm, whole body convulsing as he explodes, spilling across the table in thick, hot spurts.

But you don’t stop.

Not until you’ve finished too, spilling deep inside him, groaning low against his sweat-slicked spine as you collapse forward, panting.

For a long second, all you can hear is the sound of your heavy breaths and Jason’s shaky whimpers.

Then, from where he’s still draped across the table, boneless and wrecked, Jason huffs a breathless little laugh.

“So... red light hand stuff’s still on the table, right?”

You spank his ass hard enough to make him yelp.

“You’re lucky I didn’t pull over and fuck you fucking side sadle.”

Jason’s grin is filthy.

“Next time… don’t hold back.”

Oh, you're the menace now.

Jason’s still draped over the table, breath hitching in his throat, legs shaky, whole body flushed and twitching from the intensity of it all. He’s sticky—soaked in his own release, glistening across the wood and his skin in creamy streaks. He hasn’t even recovered, still trying to catch his breath, when he hears your boots shuffle behind him.

“Stay still,” you murmur, voice thick, wrecked, but hungry. “Not done yet.”

Jason blinks, lifting his head just enough to look over his shoulder.

“The fuck else could you possibly—”

He chokes the rest off as your hands slide up his thighs, prying them apart again. His oversensitive cock twitches against his stomach, and he barely has time to react before your tongue licks a long, slow stripe across the mess he left behind.

Jason whines—no other word for it—his back arching, hips jerking from the overwhelming overstimulation as your mouth starts cleaning him up.

“Jesus—babe, you’re fucking filthy—”

"Mhmm..." You hum against his skin, not even pretending to argue. You are. Tongue dragging through the mess on his thighs, lips catching the pearly streaks dripping from his ass, his cock, the table—everywhere he and you spilled, you chase it, slow and deliberate, like it’s the sweetest thing you’ve ever tasted.

“Y’don’t have to—fuck—do that,” Jason mutters, but his voice cracks halfway through because your tongue flicks over the sensitive underside of his cock again, and he nearly crumples.

“But I want to,” you murmur, licking a drop off the curve of his hip, your hands holding him still when he starts to squirm. “You taste too good to waste.”

Jason lets out a shaky moan, knuckles white against the edge of the table.

“Fucking insatiable,” he gasps.

You just smirk, breath warm against the inside of his thigh as you suck the last of his release off his softening cock, slow and messy on purpose. You know it’s too much, you know it’s driving him mad—but you want to see him fall apart again, wrecked and trembling from just your tongue.

“That’s what you get,” you murmur between licks. “You start it in public, I finish it everywhere else.”

Jason groans, breathless and flushed, head dropping back onto the table as he shivers through another wave of overstimulation.

“You’re gonna kill me, y’know that?”

You press one last kiss to the inside of his thigh before standing up, dragging your tongue over your lips.

“Not till I’m full, babe.”

Jason’s still face-down on the kitchen table, legs trembling, skin flushed, and leaking just a little down the inside of his thighs—but you?

You step out onto the balcony like you just conquered a war.

The night air is crisp, cooling the sweat clinging to your neck as you strike a match one-handed, the flame flickering golden against your still-blown pupils. You bring the cigarette to your lips and inhale slow, the ember flaring hot as you lean against the railing and look out over the city, still half-hard and satisfied.

Behind you, you can hear Jason groaning faintly—something about being broken, maybe ruined, and absolutely not able to walk. You smirk to yourself and take another drag.

“You alive in there?” you call lazily, exhaling smoke into the dark.

Jason’s voice is wrecked, hoarse as hell. “Barely. You got a goddamn problem, y’know that?”

You chuckle, tossing your head back to blow smoke toward the stars.

“You’re the one who got handsy in traffic, baby. I’m just returning the favor.”

He grumbles something unintelligible, followed by the creak of the table and a thump as he finally slides to the floor. You imagine him sitting there, legs spread, hair a mess, probably still dripping.

You take another slow drag.

“Want a hit?”

“Want a hospital,” he mutters.

You hear him stumble to the doorway, leaning against the frame in nothing but his half-buttoned shirt, eyes hazy but starved. Even now, after you’ve wrung him out completely, he’s staring at you like he might drop to his knees again if you crook your finger.

You hold the cigarette out to him.

He steps out barefoot, takes it between his lips, and leans in close—close enough to still taste himself on your mouth. When he exhales, it’s smoke and a soft laugh.

“So... when’s round two?”

You cock an eyebrow, smirk curling at the edge of your lips.

“Whenever you can stand without wobbling like a newborn deer, sweetheart.”

Jason grins—teeth sharp, eyes dangerous.

“Then I better hydrate.”

That cigarette burns down to the filter, and the quiet between you settles soft, warm. The kind that only comes after you’ve really let go of everything—clothes, pride, tension. It’s the hour of sticky skin and whispered nothings, where every touch feels closer to the bone.

You stub it out in the ashtray on the railing, then tug Jason in by the waistband of his boxers. He doesn’t resist, just melts into you like muscle memory—arms slinging around your waist, nose tucked against your collarbone. You walk him back inside like that, bare feet on cold floors, hearts thudding in sync.

By the time you crawl into bed, he’s already half-asleep on your chest, one leg slung over your thigh and his fingers loosely curled in the hem of your shirt. But before you let yourself fully drift—

“Y’know…” you murmur, brushing your hand lazily through his hair, “you really shouldn’t be grabbing my dick while I drive, baby.”

Jason lets out a tired, little heh, muffled against your skin.

“Worth it.”

You pinch his side. “Could’ve crashed. Killed us both.”

“But I didn’t.”

“Because I’m a goddamn professional,” you say, exasperated but fond. “Next time you get that twitchy, at least wait till I park.”

Jason nuzzles in tighter. You can feel the curve of his grin against your chest.

“You love it.”

You sigh, kiss the crown of his messy hair, and mumble—

“I do. Even if you’re a little stupid.”

He snorts, and you feel the way his whole body relaxes against yours, like that soft little confession smoothed out every last knot of tension in him.

You wrap both arms around him tighter.

He doesn't say anything for a minute, just breathes slow and deep. Then, so quiet you almost miss it—

“Love you too.”

You smile into his hair.

Sleep comes easy after that.

BOTTOM JASON SUPREMACY

Made a Corinthian chatbot for the laughs and he’s complaining about his dental insurance I-

like a solid 60% of weird fandom tropes were invented by women who needed slightly more avant garde ways to fuck spock.... wanting to fuck spock is in many ways a load bearing pillar of fandom like if u took it away the source code would just break theres like a molecule of wanting to fuck spock or reaction to everyone wanting to fuck spock within the heart of fanfic all fanfiction is about wanting to fuck spock except fanfic about wanting to fuck spock which is about women in stem

Calander Girl

Johnny Cage x Model! Reader

I did NOT mean to lake this shit so long. I literally got possessed by a cock demon

Cw: piv sex, adult modeling, oral (m and f recieving) a lot of cum, cum eating, overstimulation

When Johnny Cage had first met you it was a total accident. He’d been way too caught up in a phone call with his agent, bitching about not wanting to work on another rom-com when he walked his happy ass onto the wrong soundstage.

It had taken him a solid minute to register that he was in the wrong place, staring at you laying bare on your stomach, propped up on your elbows with nothing but a cheap American Flag covering your ass. He watched intently as you kicked your foot up in the air with your toes pointed and popped your gum, vintage curls bouncing as you finally looked his way.

Your big doe eyes catch his as he admires you and you bring your thumb up to your red lips to stifle a giggle. Johnny starts as the camera clicks and the flash box goes off, apologizing profusely and ducking off the set. He wouldn’t know it for a while, but he was your lucky break.

The smile you had given him had secured your place as Miss June, that summer’s All American Girl, giving a strong-armed salute in a sailor style swimsuit with a Dixie cap balanced precariously over your victory rolls on the cover of that month’s issue. Your tight body and inviting face was going to “give the American Dream a breath of fresh air” as your photographer had claimed.

Your photos inside the magazine were significantly less wholesome, but still endearing nonetheless, licking whipped cream off of a beater in a white halter and high waisted sailor shorts, you leaning on that god-awful plaster anchor in nothing but stockings, heels and a white bullet bra with your legs strategically positioned to leave something to the imagination, the innocent smile you had given Johnny, and then in the middle, there you were, fully nude in those same heels and stockings, waving a handkerchief above your head with one foot kicked up behind you. “Hello, Sailor,” read the caption above you in a cheesy Americana font.

Nobody was looking at that stupid shit anyways.

When Johnny had walked into the gas station on his birthday, his first birthday alone in who knows how long, he’d decided to get himself a present. Walking to the back and picking up a twelve pack of Modelo and a single Red Bull, he’d found himself at the magazine rack beside the bathroom, leafing through the latest issues of Hustler and Penthouse before landing on his go-to. Playboy. Without looking he plucked it off the rack and made his way to the register, paid for his things, and left eager to get home and enjoy himself.

After he got home and stripped down to his boxers, he crawled into his plush California King and cracked open a beer, tossing his girly mag to the side to enjoy a couple of drinks before getting to business.

Three beers later he’s feeling loose and a little less bad about the whole ‘single’ thing he had going on, he pulls his half erect dick from his boxers, stroking it lazily, and returns his attention to the magazine.

“Jesus fucking Christ,” he mutters when he looks down and sees you of all people. He couldn’t jerk off to you, he’d met you for God’s sake. Well, kind of, but it was the principle, really. He tucks himself back into his underwear and sighs, tossing his head back in defeat.

“Well,” he reasons with himself. “It wouldn’t hurt if I just looked.” That’s what you had been there for, to be looked at, no different than him really. Besides, it wasn’t anything he hadn’t seen before on any woman, or you for that matter, and you just looked so damn cute on the cover with your bright eyes and big smile. How could he resist?

He flips through the pages, chuckling to himself at how corny the theme they had given you was. He was however taken aback when he saw what he’d seen just a month prior in front of him once again. That smile, his smile, if he dared, was just as endearing as it had been the first time, making his heart skip a beat. He sighs dreamily and turns the page, unfolding the pages and taking in all of you.

“Hello Sailor, indeed,” he breathes, not quite enjoying the way his cock twitches, making him hastily fold you back up and toss you on the nightstand, grabbing the remote instead. There had to be something good on pay per view.

“Do I have to do this,” you protest, pulling up your jeans and making sure your g-string is tastefully exposed before pulling the French-cropped trans am shirt over your head.

“No, but it’ll be fun, and they’ll be super famous people there too,” Lainey promises, pulling the hem of her dress down to an acceptable just-below-the-asscheek length.

“Yeah. They’ll probably be too famous to recognize me.”

“If you hate the attention so much, why'd you do this? Genuine question, I promise I’m not being mean.”

“I wanted to be an actress, and thought this would get my foot in the door. I just don’t like being recognized only from the neck down.”

“Hey you covered your tattoo on film, so maybe you’ll be alright.”

You look down at the pink nautical star on the inside of your wrist, right on your pulse point and nod. “Yeah. Cause that’s what they’ll be looking at.”

“Ugh, well, I tried. We gotta go before we’re late.”

You weren’t exactly sure what this party was for, or if it was just a happening, but Lainey was the one that found it and she had been in the game longer than you had, so you took her professional opinion. So there you were, leaning against the bar, idly stirring your drink, enjoying the clinking sound the ice makes when you look up and see him.

“Holy shit. Holy shit, Lainey, it’s that guy,” you hiss, wrapping your arm around her shoulder and pulling her close. “The one I told you about.” She looks over her other shoulder, her bottle-blonde hair whacking you in the face in the process. It smelled like strawberries.

“Are you fucking stupid,” she hisses back, giving you the most dumbfounded look you’ve ever seen. “That’s Johnny fuckin’ Cage!”

You peer around her. “Huh? I guess it is. Didn’t notice then. Was too nervous,” you explain, unwrapping a stick of gum and inspecting it.

“Well? What are you waiting for? Go talk to him!”

Before you can protest she’s untangled herself from your grasp and shoved you towards him.

You take a deep breath, shove the stick of gum into your mouth and push yourself the rest of the way, coming up beside him.

“Excuse me,” you call, your voice barely audible over the clamor of the party, but he still turns around, his face lighting up when he notices who you are.

“Hey! You’re that girl, sorry about that, by the way. I’m sure that was embarrassing. My fault really. I was on the phone with my agent. He never listens.”

“Well, Mr. Cage-“

“Johnny, please,” he insists, running his hand through his hair.

“Johnny. If you hadn’t walked onto my set I would’ve never smiled like that and gotten myself here.”

“Oh?”

“You know I didn’t realize it was you until just a few minutes ago. I just saw a handsome guy and got all embarrassed.”

He chuckles. “Same here. The embarrassed part, not the hot guy part. I don’t-” He lets out a defeated sigh and then rolls his shoulders back. “You’re the beautiful one though. You totally deserved to be Miss June. Say, if I bring you a copy would you sign it for me?”

“You want my autograph?”

“Sure, why not. You looked real cute on the cover. I can frame it, say I met you before you hit the big time.”

You laugh and look up at him. “You know, I thought famous people were supposed to be dicks.”

“Me? No way. I can’t vouch for most of these people though. Do you want to act, or do you just do stills,” He asks, taking a step back, seeming to size you up.

“I’m here to act. The stills are just a… temporary detour,” you admit, worrying the hem of your shirt between your fingers nervously.

“You know, my agent? The one I was on the phone with when I had my location mishap? Keeps calling me about this rom-com they want me for and I told him ‘No way, José’ unless they stop trying to pick women that look like my ex-wife to play the girl, you know everyone loves a blonde lead.”

He looks at you and sighs again. He sure sighed a lot for a grown man. Maybe it was nerves? Nah, couldn’t be. He was Johnny fucking Cage, after all.

“Listen if I can convince them to pick you up instead, you’ll be doing me a huge solid if you take it. You in?”

“What’s the catch,” you question, popping your gum at him.

“The catch?”

“Yeah. What’ll you want in return?”

“There is no catch. Studio gets their movie, you get to act and I don’t have to be constantly reminded that my wife left me. Everyone goes home happy. Well, almost everyone. Look, I don’t wa-expect you to fuck me if that’s what you mean.”

“Want?”

His cheeks flush and he gives you a confused look that’s a little too polished to be real.

“You almost said want but then stopped yourself.”

“I don’t know what you’re talking about.”

“Sure Johnny. Well, either you can keep lying to both of us, or you can get me out of here and get what you want.”

“You fucking serious?”

“Why not? Been trying to leave since I got here.”

He just chuckles and snakes an arm around your waist, tugging you close to him, leaning down next to your ear. “Your place or mine?”

“Your bed’s probably bigger,” you tease, sliding your hand into his back pocket and giving his muscular ass a squeeze as he leads you towards the door.

You glance over at the bar to find Lainey staring at you with a slack-jawed look of disbelief. You give her a shiny white smile and an exaggerated finger wave as you pass.

When you get to Johnny’s car he unlocks it from across the parking garage with the fob and jogs ahead to open your door for you, flashing you a grin as he closes it back behind you. The interior is all brown leather, making you scared to touch anything, so you just fold your hands politely into your lap.

The man of the hour ducks into the car a moment later, hitting the push-button ignition and gives it a rev. “What do you think? Nice huh? It’s an Aston Martin.

“I like the leather. Scared to touch it though.”

“Don’t be. Get comfortable Sweetheart,” he grins, looking over his shoulder as he backs out of the parking spot.

You cautiously unfold your hands and stretch your legs out, leaning back in the seat a bit.

Johnny’s hand slowly crosses the center console of the car and comes to rest on your thigh, rubbing his thumb in wide circles along the rough denim of your jeans. You ease your trembling hand towards his, lacing your pinkie with his.

“You alright?”

“Yeah, why?”

“You’re shaking.”

“Never been with someone famous. Little nerve-wracking is all,” you reply, giving his pinkie a squeeze.

“I can drop you home if you’d prefer, Sweetheart,” he offers, looking over at you and giving you a softer, more genuine smile.

“I’m okay, really.”

“Promise?”

“Yeah, promise.”

When you pull into his driveway you force yourself to not look surprised. You’d known his place would be big, but honestly, that was an understatement. You were so far out of your element that there wasn’t any going back. Sure, you’d been in a mansion before, hell you lived in one, granted it was almost a sorority situation in nature, but still.

Johnny parks in the underground garage and comes around to let you out, snaking his arm around your waist as soon as you’re standing. You give him a soft smile and let your hand find its way into his back pocket again, earning a single laugh from him.

He leads you through the garage and up a small flight of stairs into the living room, gesturing for you to sit on the couch.

“Sooooo, can I get you a drink or something?”

“Such a gracious host. We can drink if you want.”

“Awesome. You like ‘em fruity or straight.”

“Whichever you want.”

“I’m gonna go make daiquiris then. Make yourself at home baby,” he calls, slipping away towards the kitchen. He sounded excited at the prospect of having a fruity little drink. It was endearing.

You kick your shoes off and take them over to the door, lining them up carefully just barely not touching the wall before returning to the couch and folding your feet up underneath you. God, you’re really here sitting on some A-listers couch while he fixes drinks for the two of you. Did this count as a date? No, this was just a hook-up. But why was he doing more than he had to? Maybe? Nah. Well-

Your thoughts were ground to a halt by the sound of a blender full of ice running at full speed. Whatever. You were getting a mixed drink and some (hopefully) good dick, so nothing else really mattered.

Johnny comes back a couple minutes later with two glasses full of vibrant red slushie with bendy straws. He hands you one and flops down beside you, patting his thigh. You debate with yourself for a moment before throwing your legs over his lap, smiling around your straw when he rests his free hand on your knee.

“How long have you been in L.A.,” he questions, taking a moment to bend his straw into a little loop before returning his hand to your leg, higher this time.

“About six months or so. Got the gig with Playboy and moved out here. Thanks for the drink by the way.”

“No problem. Are you staying at the Mansion or do you have your own place?”

“I’m at the Mansion. It’s kind of lame honestly. I have to share a room with another of the bunnies, but apparently things are different now that Coop’s in charge. I think I’ve seen him like, twice ever.” You take a long slurp of your drink and have to fend off a fast-approaching brain freeze.

“Yeah. I heard Hef used to be a real menace. Glad you don’t have to put up with him.”

“It’s nice. Free place to live out here is awesome. We just have to take turns making breakfast for everyone and look good at parties.”

“Not hard for you to do,” he replies, rubbing his thumb along your leg again.

You chuckle at his complement, but can’t manage to fight off the pink that tinges your cheeks.

“Johnny?”

“Yeah baby?”

“You don’t think I’m easy do you?”

“No way. If you were easy we’d be halfway done by now, besides anyone’d jump at the opportunity to come home with me.”

“Conceited much,” you joke, tugging his shirt sleeve with your toes.

“Me? No way,” he teases, giving you a wink

“Sure…”

“How’s your drink?”

“‘S good.”

“Glad to hear it. C’mere,” he urges, wrapping his arm around your waist, pulling you into his lap and you let him. “You seem like a sweet girl and I wanna treat you right, see where this goes, ya know.”

“Seriously,” you ask, returning your attention to your drink trying to stave off the fresh anxiety bubbling up in your tummy.

“Sure, or it can just be a one time thing if you want. I just don’t want you feeling tossed aside.”

“We’ll see what happens,” you murmur, leaning away, relying entirely on his arm around your waist to put your empty cup on the coffee table before wrapping your arms around his neck and kissing him. His shoulders relax and he kisses you back, not bothering to pull away as he leans to put his cup with yours so his hands can focus on holding onto you.

The two of you kiss until you’re lightheaded and have no choice but to pull away panting. “Fuck, Johnny, you’re so fuckin’ hot.”

“Mh, that’s you baby. You want to take the party upstairs?”

“Let’s go,” you whisper, grabbing his face and smashing your lips to his again. He smiles against you and gathers you up in his toned arms, carrying you up the stairs.

His room was just as extravagant as the rest of his house, as you had expected. He sets you down and steps back, kicking off his own shoes and disappearing into what you assume to be the closet. You walk over and sit on the edge of his king-size bed, running your hands along the plush black comforter and taking in the painting above the headboard. It was a Warhol.

Johnny comes back out of the closet in just his slacks and sits beside you. “Nice painting, right?”

“Yeah,” you respond almost blankly, before returning your attention to him, noticing his tattoo. He really was conceited, but looking at the rest of him, he had good reason to be.” I’d forgotten about this one. Figure most people have though, everything except for his pop art.”

“What’s your favorite painting?” What an unusually thoughtful question to ask given the situation. It deserved a thoughtful answer.

“Christina’s World. Reminds me of myself in a way, getting to where I want to be by sheer force of will, despite it all.”

“Well, you got there.”

“I still want more.”

“And you’ll have it. One day you’ll look back and it’ll be hard to remember when you didn’t.”

“Can’t imagine forgetting.”

“Didn’t say you’d forget how you got there. You forget how miserable it was because it's paid off. Nothing’s better than that.”

“Sappy.”

“I try.”

“Do you want me to suck your dick?”

His back stiffens and he turns to face you. “Huh?”

“I asked if you want me to suck your dick.”

“Oh, you mean like- actually. I thought you were being facetious. Be my guest- if you want.”

You laugh and slide off the bed, kneeling between his toned legs, bringing your hands to rest on his belt buckle.

“You sound nervous,” you tease, undoing his belt and unzipping his fly.

“It’s been a while.”

“Yeah, me too. I’m probably no good anymore.”

“I’m sure you’ll do fine sweetheart.”

Your fingers make quick work of the button on his slacks, finally reaching into his boxers and pulling his cock out. Oh. He was big. It was your turn to be nervous again, gulping and taking a deep breath before pressing a kiss to his flushed tip. You decide to take it slow, peppering him with kisses and kitten licks before finally taking him into your mouth, taking your time to get used to each inch before forcing yourself lower. His fingers work their way into your hair, not forcing your head down, but following along as you take him in. The pants falling from his lips slowly morph into soft whimpers, whining whenever you run your tongue along the vein running down his length.

You make it about three quarters down before you gag and pull away abruptly, making him whine in protest. Hot tears slide down your cheeks and you swallow thickly, holding the back of your wrist to your mouth, fighting the urge to puke all over his spotless white carpet.

“You okay sweetheart,” he murmurs, untangling his hand from your hair and cupping your cheek with it, urging you to look up at him. Your eyes meet his and you find an unexpected softness there.

“Y-yeah. I’m fine. Overestimated myself, I think,” you reply, leaning forwards to take him again, but his hand returns to your hair and tugs you away,

“You don’t have to try again if you don’t want. You did good.”

“Wanna make you cum,” you whine, leaning forward again, not caring about the sore tug at your scalp. His hand just follows your head again, letting you do as you please. You’re more mindful of yourself this time, taking him deeper into your throat at your own pace, not the one you thought he wanted, digging your fingers into his hips to balance yourself.

“Fuck, baby. Just like that, feels s’good,” he groans, pulling his hand from your hair and fisting the comforter to stop himself from just shoving you the rest of the way down. Despite his lack of trying his hips raise up to meet you and he groans deeply when you look up and lock eyes with him. “You’re doin’ so good, so proud of you.”

His praise goes straight to your pussy and you finish taking him in, pressing your nose into the light brown hair trailing down his tummy, scrunching your face up whenever it tickles. It really had been a long time since you’d sucked dick, especially one this big, and you’d forgotten how much you enjoyed it, rutting your hips against nothing looking for any kind of friction, but coming up empty.

“I’m so fuckin’ close, where do you want me to-”

You pull back, hollowing your cheeks and giving his head some attention before taking all of him back in, moaning as his fingertips dig into your scalp as you let him fuck your face as he cums down your throat with a pathetic moan. After a couple more shallow thrusts he holds your cheeks as you pull away from him and swallow thickly.

“Fuck baby, that was amazing. Thought you said it’d been a while.”

You take a ragged breath and look up at him. “It has.”

“You’re a fuckin’ pro. Shit, look at you, so hot, all ruined like that. Come here,” he coaxes, sliding his arms under yours and pulling you up towards him. You let him sit you in his lap and baby you, wiping at your tears and kissing you on the forehead before he stands up and pulls the sheets back, laying you in his bed. You look over and notice the teddy bear sitting against one of the pillows.

“Cute,” you comment, grinning at him when he leans over and knocks it into the floor.

“You didn’t see that.”

“Sure.” He shuts you up with a kiss, slipping his hand under your shirt and tracing his way up your ribs to squeeze your breast.

“Your turn,” he smirks, making quick work of pulling your shirt over your head and dropping it into the floor. “You’re so fucking pretty,” he growls, leaning down to nip at your collarbone.

“Nothing you haven’t seen before,” you tease, pushing your chest into his greedy hand

“Much better in person though. I’m a hands-on learner.”

You just sigh and let him peel you out of your clothes. He stops when he tosses your jeans off, taking a moment to stare at your g-string.

“What’s this even supposed to cover,” he questions, pulling it off as well, spinning it around on his finger.

“It’s just for decoration.”

“Clearly.”

You laugh and snatch it off his finger, tossing it back at him

“For me?”

“If you want it. Don’t know if you can pull it off though.”

“Baby I can pull off anything.”

He quickly loses interest in the tiny garment and returns his attention to you, bringing a hand between your thighs and leaning down to kiss you, his chest pressing against yours deliciously.

“Johnny,” you whine, rutting your hips against his hand, which has been tracing along everywhere except where you need it. “Don’t tease.”

“Let me have my fun.”

He slides one finger through your folds, ghosting up and down along your clit, taking you in as you squirm underneath him before plunging it into you. You sigh and grind your hips down against his palm, keening when his thumb brushes your clit. His free hand takes its place kneading at your breast, tracing his fingers over your clothed nipple.

“You should take this off too baby,” he murmurs, popping the strap of your powder blue bra. You just arch your back so he can reach behind you to unclasp it, sighing in relief as he pulls it off your body and tosses it aside. “That’s better. You’re so hot baby,”

He eases his finger out of you and returns with another, expertly curling his finger into your sweet spot. When his thumb leaves your clit you groan in protest, accepting his decision when he replaces it with his mouth. His tongue was warm and wet as presses it to you. He groans and quickens his fingers, curling his fingers harshly into your warm sex, his lips locking around your clit making your head spin.

Johnny makes you cum with expert precision, not letting up despite you tugging harshly at his sandy blond hair. He just looks up at you with those big brown eyes of his, smirking against you while he eats you out like a starved man. His fingers have slowed to a steady rhythm and he’s mostly focusing on you with his mouth now. You can feel your body starting to tense again, and you throw your head back into the pillow and let him keep abusing your cunt.

Your second orgasm crashes over you harder than the first, making you dig your heels into the mattress, your trembling thighs squeezing his head, but still, he persists.

“Johnny,” you whimper, digging your nails into his shoulders, but there’s really no deterring him. You felt like you were on fire, your head swimming and every move he made sending shocks through your muscles. Finally he pulls away, moving his thumb back to your clit, rubbing gentle circles over it as he looks up at you. His chin’s coated in your juices and he really doesn’t seem to care. He just watches as you squirm under his touch, flashing you a well-practiced smile when your eyes meet.

The third orgasm makes your vision go white and you reach down, weakly grabbing at his wrist, silently begging for mercy. “‘S too much,” you whine, trying to free yourself from his touch but he just grabs your hip, pulling you back to him, making you fuck his fingers.

“Come on baby, you can give me one more.”

“Can’t.”

“Yes you can. You’re doing so good.”

“J-Johnny…”

“What if I do this,” he taunts, letting go of your hip and pressing the heel of his hand into the soft flesh just above your mons. You cry out and gush around his fingers, going completely limp as he slows his pace to a stop, easing his fingers out of you and moving to lay beside you.

You just lay there, entirely fucked out, your breathing ragged and your cunt squeezing around nothing. Fat tears roll down your cheeks, clumping your lashes and taking what's left of your mascara with them. Johnny runs his hands along your body, making you shiver, but successfully drawing you back to this plane of existence.

He just lets you lay there, feeling your warm skin, smiling at how helpless he’s made you. His cock strains painfully against his slacks so he decides to do away with them, discarding them and his boxers with the rest of your clothes. Finally you’re cohesive enough to have control over your own body and you turn to look at him. He just looks so fucking good, his normally kempt hair a spiky mess from your desprate fingers. His lips are swollen and a deep shade of pink, parted slightly as he breathes. He flashes you another smile and tosses his leg over yours, shamelessly grinding his dick against your thigh.

“Shit,” you sigh. “That was just foreplay.”

“Told you I’d make it worth your time.”

“You weren’t lying. Never cum like that in my life.”

He gives you a cocky smile, giving your cunt a light slap, making you yelp.

“You think you’re ready for the real deal,” He questions, climbing on top of you and kissing you deeply, forcing his tongue into your mouth and licking at the backs of your teeth. He pulls away, his tongue darting out to break the string of spit connecting you as he awaits your answer.

“I’ll take whatever you give me,” you respond, wrapping your arms around his shoulders and pulling him down for another kiss, rolling your hips against his.

He just reaches between you and lines himself up, pressing in slowly, giving you plenty of time to adjust. The stretch is amazing and you lock your ankles around his lower back, urging him to bottom out. When he finally does, he just stops, pressing himself impossibly deeper and holding you there.

“You’re so fuckin’ wet. Gonna make me embarrass myself.” he purrs. “Don’t care though. Too fuckin’ good.”

Johnny takes a moment to take in how you look under him and realizes he could get used to the view. Living room sunset be damned, this was his new favorite thing to watch. He looks down to where your bodies are joined, taking note of the bulge in your tummy and the way it pulses when his cock twitches. You were going to be the death of him.

Finally he pulls back, almost all the way out before slamming back into you, setting a punishing pace, digging his fingertips into your hips, eyes fixed on your stomach as he fucked you. Your view wasn’t too bad either, watching his abs ripple as he pounded into you, the way his hair fell down into his face covering his focused expression. Every thrust brushed against your cervix, unbridled moans falling from your lips.

Johnny’s pants slowly morph into grunts that quickly become needy sounds as his pace falters, bringing his hand to your clit once again, urging you to cum before he does. That was your final straw, every muscle in your body contracting as your fifth orgasm hits you like a ton of bricks.

“Fuck,” he growls as he pulls out of you harshly, fisting his cock a couple of times before spilling across your tummy. He looks up at you with an animalistic expression, chest heaving as his fingers dig deeper into the flesh of your hips. He looks around for a second before sitting back on his heels, his eyebrows furrowing. “Fuck it why not,” he mutters, assumedly to himself as his grip releases and he moves to rest on the bed between your legs, tossing your legs over his shoulders.

Your eyes flash with an instinctive fear, and you grab a fistful of his hair to keep him from going back for sloppy seconds. Instead of burying his face between your thighs again his tongue lathes against your torso. You watch him in awe as he laps his own mess off your burning skin, and it's almost enough to make you beg him for a second round just so you can see it again.

When he’s done he crawls up beside you and pulls you into his arms, squeezing you to him and peppering sloppy kisses along your shoulder.

“That was hot.”

“Never done that before. Don’t know why I did. Don’t know how chicks do that all the time. It was uh, not great.”

“It wasn’t bad, probably just ‘cause it was your own. I could tell you eat well.”

He laughs and brings a hand up to brush your sweaty hair out of your face.

“That’s insane,” he replies, grabbing at you as you try to slide out of his arms.

“Let me up, I gotta pee.”

“Oh I’m sure you do.”

You whack him in the chest with a half-hearted backhand and he finally lets go.

“You coming back?”

“Yeah, where’s the bathroom.”

“Straight across from here.” he gestures to the door at the end of the short hallway in his room.

When you come back out he’s already asleep, so you just climb into the bed beside him, smiling to yourself when he throws his arm over you.

You wake up the next morning still in his arms facing him and you stretch, trying to untangle yourself from him. He groans and pulls you closer, his eyes fluttering open.

“Morning sweetheart,” he murmurs. His morning voice is deep and gravely instead of its usual smooth tone. You smile and kiss the end of his nose. “How’d you sleep?”

“Great. What about you?”

“Like a baby. What time is it?”

“I’d know if you had a clock in here.”

“Hey, my bed’s like Vegas baby. Don’t need a clock.”

“Uh, huh. Let me check my phone.”

He lets go of you and you roll over, grabbing your phone out of the floor.

“It’s seven, and I have like, a million texts.” You open your phone and scroll through your notifications. Most of them were from Lainey, becoming increasingly more concerned before the most recent that just read ‘CALL ME’. You just send her a simple ‘I’m still alive’ text before turning your phone back off and dropping it into the pile of clothes on the floor, returning to Johnny’s embrace.

“I have three hours before I gotta be somewhere. You down for round two and a shower,” He questions, cocking his eyebrow at you.

“Don’t see why not.”

“Glad we’re still on the same page.”

He rolls on top of you and lines himself up with your still-sloppy cunt, easing himself in, same as the night before. Instead of drilling you he sets a slow pace, kissing you passionately as you pull him impossibly closer. It’s slow and restrained, and if you didn’t know any better you'd say he was making love to you. He brings his hand down to toy with your clit, easing you into cumming on his dick this time instead of demanding it. After you finish he pulls out and finishes himself off into the shirt he was wearing yesterday, wordlessly getting up and tossing it into the closet. He comes back to the side of the bed and reaches his hand out.

“Let's go get cleaned up.”

You sit on the cold porcelain of the toilet lid, watching him intently as he starts the shower, taking your hand and leading you in with him.

“Hey, I only have like, dude smells. Hope that’s okay.”

“At least it's not Axe,” you laugh, wetting your hair and turning around to let him shampoo it, which he gladly does. The two of you spend about an hour in the shower enjoying the hot water, washing each other, and kissing. Finally you manage to separate long enough to get out and dry off. Johnny goes and gets dressed in the closet and you just put on your clothes from the night before. He comes back out and you admire how well-tailored his shirt is.

“Come on, I’ll make us breakfast before I gotta go. I’ll call you a ride home, okay?”

“Sounds good.”

He makes omelets for the two of you and you take seats next to each other at the dining room table to eat. After you’re done he takes the dishes into the kitchen and calls your ride for you.

“Where’s your phone?”

“ In my pocket, why?”

“Wanna give you my number so you can call me up whenever.”

You open your phone up to the new contact screen and he enters his number, saving it under ‘Johnny 😎’ and handing it back to you.

His phone dings and he checks it, looking up at you. “Your ride’s here. Text me when you get home safe, okay,” he insists, leading you to the door and giving you one more quick kiss before sending you to the car waiting in the driveway, waving as you duck in.

When you get home you let yourself in and lock the door behind you, trying your damnedest to not look like you were doing the walk of shame. Lainey’s standing at the top of the stairs in her fluffy pink robe staring down at you.

“Holy. Fucking. Shit. You actually did it, didn’t you? You gotta tell me everything.”

You shush her violently and run up the stairs, grabbing her wrist and dragging her into your shared room and slamming the door.

“Dude. Holy shit. He fucked me like he hated my guts.”

“And let you spend the night, and apparently let you use his shower too.”

“We showered together.”

“No shit?”

“No shit. Dude he made me cum like a million times, and then this morning. It felt like I’ve lived with him for years or something. It was just so… natural.”

“That’s… unexpected. Honestly I thought you’d call me to come get you in the middle of the night.”

You sigh and fall backwards onto the bed, pulling your phone out and shooting Johnny a quick text. He responds with a simple ‘👍’.

“He gave me his number. And offered to be my boyfriend”

“Un-fucking-believable,” Lainey breathes grabbing your shoulders and pulls you back into a sitting position, shaking you around. “Do not fuck this up.”

@cael-salad

Idk if this too specific but could I request some hcs of Jotaro (part 3, 4, or 6 whichever) with an SO who doesn't want to have a child themselves but is open to the idea of being a parent? (They either would like a surrogate to carry or adopt, how would Jotaro take that?) [I need some validation in my life man 🥲] thank you 💗

note: you're so valid anon. this is a bit short, but i feel like this is really good. also you're my first anon yay!

based on adultaro's personality, he'd think that adoption and/or surrogacy would make complete sense

he's a very rational man and after all he's went through he'd like the ones he loves (that's you🫵) to be happy and live as much of a painless life as possible

maybe you'd assume that he would have some questions and concerns about your decision, but you'd be wrong

he's so understanding you mistake him for being nonchalant about an important life choice

it's as if you just told him it was raining outside

"i understand."

at your look, he continues

"i've done some research about pregnancy and i fully understand why you wouldn't want to put that sort of stress and imbalances on your body. i understand and support your decision. even though i would never have to give birth, so perhaps i shouldn't have an opinion on this, but i think this is a good choice. i will support you in either way you'd like to have a child."

you're in awe

he just gets it

you didn't even have to explain anything

he understands you and your thinking perfectly

he hugs you close to his chest and holds your head

you didn't even realize you had started crying

"it's okay."

and you believe him because he'll always make sure you're okay

Leon S Kennedy is 100% the type of guy to get drunk and have no idea what’s going on around him.

You lean in to kiss him and he pushes you away by the shoulder and tells you he has a wife.

When you try to convince him that you are his wife, this man deadass just goes “nuh uh” and continues declining your advances.

He finally decides he’s done and calls his wife to pick him up and when your phone rings he’s just like “no fucking way dude”

Candlelight

Cw: loss of virginity, piv sex

Eli groaned as he settled on the edge of the bed to untie his shoes while you shed your dress and hastily pull your nightgown over your head while his back was still turned.

“I enjoyed today,” he says suddenly. “Did you have a nice time?”

You hear his shoes clunk on the floor and shuffling as he begins to dress for bed. Eli’s near-nudity didn’t make you nearly as nervous as the prospect of him seeing you. You’d seen him in his boxers countless times when you had gone swimming together in your youth. Things were so different now, but at the end of the day, Eli was still the same boy you had spent almost your entire life beside.

“Of course I did, I married an amazing man.”

He pauses for a brief moment, before resuming his present task. “What about the house? Do you like the house?”

Oh he was so terribly nervous. Before the wedding, Eli was as composed as a monk, calling on the pastor from the next town over to officiate, calmly instructing the women of the congregation on how to decorate the church. He had it all together while you clambered for your composure just outside the door, waiting for your cue.

But here he was, anxious now as you were earlier that morning, questioning if you were actually happy with the life the two of you were building. The house he had had built for the two of you to live in was beautiful. A small place with three bedrooms, settled under the big tree not far from the church. Asking him for anything more would be foolish. It was perfect as it was.

“I’d love anything you gave me,” you reply, pulling back the covers and slipping into the bed.

He sighs deeply. “That’s not what- please be honest.”

“Darling, it’s a very nice house. Don’t be so nervous, I’m just your wife.”

Eli slips into the bed beside you, leaning against the headboard, smiling softly when you roll over to face him.

“That’s the terror of it. I’ve married the woman I’ve loved since I was a child. I don’t know where to go from here.”

“As sentimental as ever,” you chide jokingly, moving to rest your head on his thigh, tugging the blanket around your face. “I thought I had lost you when you gave your life over to God.”

Eli had suddenly become a zealot when he was fifteen, turning almost all of his attention to the scripture. He’d left town when he was seventeen to study under another Pastor a few towns over, returning when he was nineteen and promptly asking you to allow him to formally court you. He was your childhood sweetheart, so naturally you agreed, and so did your parents, thinking that a man of God would be good to tame your wild nature.

Ever the untamed child you were, always coming home after dark with scraped knees and bruises from falling out of trees, a sheepish Eli trailing behind you, knowing he was going to be punished for being late, but refusing to leave you. Summer days spent holed up in a blackberry thicket gorging yourself on the sweet fruits, face and fingers sticky, bathing in the pond after to rid yourself of the feeling, returning home hours later in your soaked shift, dress thrown haphazardly over your shoulder as you darted past your neighbors to avoid being seen.

As you’d grown older, Eli was less resistant to going swimming with you, then laying in the sun in the grass, chatting as you waited for your underclothes to dry, sometimes stealing a kiss or two if one of you felt brave that day. You two had been especially close in the weeks right before Eli had disappeared. When he did, you’d grieved him like he was dead, despite his folks and yours assuring you it was only a temporary arrangement.

Even though Eli was a ‘Pious’ man, and in all technicality, in charge of you, he let you do as you pleased, not having it in his heart to stamp out your youthful nature. He preached his sermons and then followed you to the pond to swim for a few hours before walking you home for the evening. He’d return right after breakfast the next morning to get you and not be surprised when he was informed that you’d already been gone for hours. When he would find you perched in a tree, munching on whatever fruit grew there, he would join you, talking for hours or sitting in silence. It didn’t matter much to him, he was just happy to be back.

“I gave myself to God so I didn’t humiliate myself. I was so young and immature I surely would have driven you away. I had to put the energy elsewhere.”

You chuckle and wrap your arms around his leg. “It’d take an act of God to get rid of me.”

“Don’t say that,” he laughs, running his fingers through your hair, fighting the urge to admit that the prospective act of God terrified him.

“Sorry,” you hum, pulling his leg closer to your body.

“I’m joking, darling. You usually wrap your hair when you sleep, what’s changed?” Oh he just loved bringing up the time he walked in on you in your night clothes a few months ago after forgetting to knock. You could have very well been nude. Had he no shame?

“Aren’t pastor’s wives supposed to be plain, besides, don’t we have ‘marital duties’ to carry out?”

Eli chuckles at your comment and prys your hands from him so he can settle himself beside you. “I’d have to go blind to see you as plain. We only have to lay together if you’d like to, I’ve abstained long enough that I don’t think a while more will kill me.”

“I’ve always been curious as to what it’s like. I wouldn’t mind,” you hum, pulling yourself to rest on his chest, basking in the rise and fall of his breath and the gentle thrum of his heartbeat.

His heart stutters at your words. “Has nobody told you what it’s like?”

“No, mother said it was unladylike to speak about it so we never did.”

“When have you ever been ladylike? It’s almost cruel, sending you into the lion’s den unarmed. My father sat me down to talk about it once, right before I left. It was uncomfortable,” he pauses and releases a breath. “He went into excruciating detail about… many things. Perhaps that’s what drove me away. I believe I was too young to fathom the complexity of the situation then.”

“How do you mean,” You question, propping yourself up on his chest watching as he thinks carefully of his answer, a soft pink dusting his cheeks, drawing a smile to your lips.

“I couldn’t connect the feeling, the… experience to the explanation. Youth is overzealous with emotion. It drives to the point of madness, there was no time to truly think on it. I believe I have a firmer grasp on it now,” he hums, bumping his forehead against yours.

Eli’s in a state you’ve never seen him in, his pupils blown wide, his face flushed, lips parted slightly, warm breath ghosting against your lips as you gaze down at him. You bring the hand not supporting you up to tangle in his chestnut hair, leaning down, brushing your lips softly against his before kissing him warmly. His arms wrap around you, pulling you into him as he follows your lips with his, urging you to kiss him more harshly, and you do. You’re fervent, soft flesh against flesh, and mess of teeth and tongue and obscenely wet sounds as the two of you become closer than you’ve ever been.

You whine when he bites your lip a bit too harshly, almost drawing blood, but he realizes his wrongdoing and quickly soothes it with his tongue. One hand moves up to hold the back of your head while the other trails down your side to grip your thigh with almost bruising vigor, urging you to straddle his thigh. You allow him to pull your leg where he wants it, settling into your new place over him. Eli falls back against his pillow, heaving for breath, saliva trailing down his chin, a dopey smile gracing his lips as he slyly brings his thigh up between yours, making your breathing hitch in your throat at the friction, a warmth pooling in your belly, familiar but not.

“Have you- Have you ever…touched yourself,” he asks, innocently enough, leaning up to press his lips briefly against yours again.

“No.”

“Oh, God,” he groans, squeezing his eyes shut, pushing his head back into the pillow. His hands roam up your back, bunching your nightgown in his hands as they fall to rest on your hips, pulling you into his thigh, drawing a soft moan from your lips. “M-May I,” he murmurs, tugging on the cloth to distinguish his intentions.

“Yes,” you whisper back, pulling away to allow him to pull your nightgown over your head, leaving you completely bare before him. His cheeks flush a deeper shade of crimson and he looks away for a moment before focusing his gaze back on your face. “You look almost as embarrassed as I feel.”

Eli opens his mouth to speak, promptly closing it and furrowing his eyebrows. “I’ve just never seen a woman like this is all.”

“And I’ve never been seen,” you counter, crossing your arms over your chest.

He chuckles, scrunching up his nose and bringing a hand up to run his thumb along your cheek. “Nothing to be ashamed of, you’re amazing. Kiss me?”

You lean down, and bump your nose against his before pressing your lips to his, and he kisses you the way he had before, drawing physical reactions from you. HIs hand gives your waist another squeeze before shifting his weight, rolling you onto your back and following close behind. Your breath hitches in your throat as you realize you’re suddenly at his mercy. The scraggly, unimposing boy you had known had grown into a man during his time away, still far from intimidating, but Eli was of his own will now, knowing what he wanted and he had the means to get it. You wouldn’t oppose him even if you wanted to.

The sound Eli makes when he ruts his hips against yours floods you with unfamiliar emotions, urging his body closer to yours. Despite your urging, he pulls away, taking you in, his brows furrowing again, his eyes drifting to the side as he thinks. Finally he decides his course of action and pulls one of your legs up to his shoulder, kissing your ankle chastely. He works his way up your leg, his kisses becoming harsher as he reaches the tender skin of your inner thigh before stopping. You tangle your fingers in his hair, tugging softly to encourage him to continue whatever it was he was planning.

He buries his face in between your legs, his tongue carefully testing your reaction. When you whine and fist his hair more harshly, he takes it as a sign that he’s pleasing you. It’s clear from his uncertainty that he’s inexperienced, his mouth moving hesitantly against you as he gauges each reaction separately. He’s a fast learner, doubling down on the motions that draw the most from you, reveling in the way your back arches and your thighs squeeze around his head.

You whimper above him, attempting to squirm away from him, prompting him to grab your thighs and pull you back to him. The pleasure he takes in knowing he’s the only one that’s ever made you feel like this, that he’s the only one that you’ve let please you, it’s almost too much for him to bear. He releases one of your thighs, bringing his fingers to tease at your entrance, gathering the slick combination of your arousal and his saliva on them before carefully easing them into you.

A moan tumbles from your lips at the sensation. Eli’s fingers are almost skillful as they curl into you, beckoning you closer and closer to the edge. And then you’re there, falling over with a cry of his name, pulling him closer and squeezing him with your thighs as he pulls you through your orgasm. The sensation’s so unfamiliar that you don’t even register that it’s too much until you’re trembling and pushing him away.

When Eli pulls himself away from you he looks as wrecked as you feel, his hair mussed, chin slick with you, gasping for breath as he wipes his mouth on the back of his hand. “Are you- okay? Was that good?”

All you can do is nod and whine, opening your arms to him weakly. He accepts your offer and settles his head on your chest, taking notice of how erratic your heart is in your chest, of how he made it that way. He stretches up to kiss you again. It’s rougher than he would have liked, but he’s still worked up, straining painfully against his cotton shorts as he does his best to keep his composure for your sake.

“Eli, what about you,” you ask, sliding your hand down his back, toying with the waistband of his shorts.

“I’m fine, you don’t have to-”

“I want to, besides, it doesn’t really count if we don’t right?”

“Okay, are you sure you’re ready,” he asks, propping himself up on his elbow, looking down at you, taking in your soft expression.

“Of course,” you reply, smiling innocently as you push his shorts off his hips. He kicks them the rest of the way off. The sudden realization that Eli is completely naked has you putting all of your focus into maintaining eye contact.

“Nervous,” he teases, leaning down to kiss you.

“Me? Never,” you counter, your fingers cautiously crossing the space between you and taking hold of him. His cock is heavy in your hand, your touch making his breath catch in his throat helplessly. Eli’s hips fall into place as you open yourself to him. His hand comes down to guide your hand in lining him up with your entrance, whining as he teases himself against you.

Eli groans and drops his head into the crook of your shoulder as he pushes into you, just barely, slowly easing himself in, giving you time to stretch around him. You grip his shoulder, nails leaving crescent imprints as his hips finally meet yours, a breathy sigh falling from his lips at the sensation. The fullness he brings is almost too much, tears brim in your eyes as Eli brings his forehead to rest against yours, a sign of affection he had been giving you for years when he didn’t know what else to say or do, just a gentle reminder that he’s there with you. It was comforting and familiar despite all the new things you had done together already that day.

“Eli,” you breathe, leaning up to brush your nose against his. “I’m okay, you can, you can move now.” He nods against you and pulls his hips away slowly, the drag making you both moan. Eli sets a slow pace, bringing his hand to rest on the side of your neck, thumb caressing the curve of your cheekbone as he leans to kiss you.

His thrusts become sloppy as he gets closer to his own high, moving his hand from your face down between you, clumsily trying to get you to finish before him, groaning when you tighten around him. You fall over first, wrapping your legs around his back as his hips stutter and he spills inside you. He drops his body onto yours haphazardly, completely spent, groaning and kissing you despite fighting for his breath.

When he pulls away an emptiness follows, making you want to hold him closer as he settles on his side of the bed facing you. “Was that good? Do you need anything?”

You just nod and pull yourself towards him, resting your head on his chest, listening as his heart rate slowly returns to normal. “It was good, you don’t have to keep asking. Just hold me.”

“Okay,” he murmurs, you can hear the soft smile in his voice even though you can’t see him. He wraps his arms around you and strokes your hair as the two of you drift off to sleep together.

anyway pls reblog for sample size 👀

Lovefool

Smut, dilfs, best friends hot dad trope

A soft trembling moan falls from your lips as your hips bang into the rosewood desk he has you bent over as each well-paced thrust lands deep within you. His whole body is warm and firm as he holds you close, squeezing you affectionately while you drown in the heavy scent of sex and his cologne. The sharp nips of his teeth along the sensitive flesh of your neck is a welcome pain, adding to the sensations overtaking your body. His arm across your chest pulls you flush against his chest as he leans closer to the desk, seeking a deeper angle within you. Moans tumble continuously from your lips, your mind too hazy to form words. You’re so close, god you’re so close. You push your hips back into him-

“Hey, hey, y/n- wake up.” You groan and roll over to face Jolyne. Your body is sweaty and your cheeks flushed with amor and embarrassment. “You were, you were uh, havin’ quite the dream from the sound of it.” “And I woke you up?” It’s dark, you can't see her, she can’t see you. That little bit of knowledge is the only thing keeping you from bursting into tears at the moment. “Yeah, no worries though, it happens to everyone. Soooo, who was it about.” “Don’t remember,” you lie, ‘God this is terrible,’ you think, rolling out of bed and heading towards the door. “Come on, dream like that you gotta remember who it was. I have dreams like that about Tom Cruise sometimes. Remember when he was in that vampire movie? Sooo fuckin’ sexy. Where you goin?” “To take a shower Jo, I’m horny and embarrassed,” you snap, closing the door behind you.

You lean against the door and let out a silent sob, clapping your hand over your mouth to silence any possible noise you could make. You’d die if your best friend found out you had a wet dream about her dad in her bed of all places. Fuck what was wrong with you? Even if you did fuck him, which you wouldn't, even though you were an adult, and it was legal sure, was it moral? You knew Jotaro held morals over the law. He’d kill a man if it was the right thing to do, hell, you were pretty sure he had killed a man. “I can’t just stand in the hall like this, what if he comes out? What if I look weird? What if I smell weird?” ‘Just go shower, jack off a little, go back to bed, and apologize to Jolyne for being a dick when she wakes up.’ Easy Peasy.

It was in fact, not easy peasy.

The shower knobs were squeaky as hell, most likely because it was two in the morning and the only sound in the whole house, but still loud as hell regardless. You couldn’t get the water temperature adjusted, either burning or freezing you. You eventually decided hot was better than cold, it was bad enough you were busting a nut in their shower, the water bill didn’t need to be extravagant on top of that. Then it took you forever to get into your groove, almost certainly because of stress and embarrassment, and when you finally did, you couldn’t seem to shut up. Biting the back of your hand to silence your moans as you rode your fingers, you finally managed to get yourself to the edge. You came with a high-pitched whine, biting down on your hand hard enough to break the skin and slipping, narrowly catching yourself on the towel rack, but not before slamming your whole body weight against the back wall of the shower. The color drains from your face as you realize that Jotaro’s room is on the other side of said wall. ‘Oh god, he has PTSD, oh fuck he's gonna panic and kill me. I’m naked, shit. It's all over now.’ The door never slams open, and you’re left alive. Maybe he didn't hear it. You turn the shower off as quietly as possible and step out, toweling off and dressing before heading back to Jolyne’s room.

When you go crawl into the bed Jolyne rolls over, facing you. “So, did you enjoy your wank?” “Jo, what, why are you still awake.” “It must have been good, I heard you slip,” she giggles. “You were listening,” you hiss, staring at her in disbelief. “Not on purpose, I was trying to go back to sleep but you weren’t exactly quiet.” “Fuck, I hope nobody else heard. I’m sorry you did though, and I’m sorry I snapped at you earlier.” “It’s fine, I get pissy when I’m pent up too. We need to find you a boyfriend, and fast.” “Bitch,” you laugh, throwing your arm across her shoulder. “But you loooveee me,” She coos, throwing her arm over you as well. “Shut it and go to sleep, I’m still embarrassed.”

When you wake up in the morning, Jolyne’s not in bed, so you assume she’s already gotten up to get breakfast like the glutton she always was in the morning “How are you not fat,” you always asked her, watching in disbelief as she ate a bowl of cereal and four pop tarts. “Hard work,” she’d always reply around a mouthful of food. You couldn't find her. You poke your head into the kitchen and call softly, weary of waking Jotaro. “She had classes this morning,” a deep voice rumbles, frightening you. Jotaro’s leaning against the counter, a steaming cup of coffee in his hands, his face as unreadable as ever. “Good morning Mr. Kujo, do you uh, mind if I have coffee with you,” you greet softly, grabbing a mug from the cabinet. “Not at all, y/n. If anything you're my favorite out of all Jolyne’s friends, but don’t tell her that, she’ll never talk to you again just to spite me.” You let out a soft laugh. “She doesn’t really hate you that much, only a little bit,” you hum, pouring yourself some coffee and leaning on the counter across from him. It was just coffee, so why did it feel so dirty? “Are you alright, I heard you fall in the shower last night.” Because he had heard you, that’s why. “Oh, yeah, I’m fine thank you for asking, I just slipped.” He shrugs, your answer saiting his curiosity.

“May I ask why I’m your favorite out of Jolyne’s friends,” you ask suddenly, staring into the warm mug in your hands. “You’re just pleasant to be around, that’s all.” “You don't seem the type to derive pleasure from other’s company, Mr. Kujo.” “Most people are intolerable, yes, but I happen to hate you less than the others by a long shot.” “Not one to mince words, I see.” “Speaking of deriving pleasure, you’re a noisy one I hear,” he counters. You’re dumbfounded. Never in a million years would you have expected him to be so forward. “So you heard me?” “I’ve overstepped,” he murmurs, putting his mug down and turning to leave, but you reach out and grab his wrist. “Mr. Kujo, Jotaro, may I call you Jotaro?” “I’ve insulted your privacy, I no longer deserve your respect, why not,” he replies, looking as beaten as you've ever seen him.

“May I confide something in you, Jotaro, something deeply personal?” He nods. “I-I uh.” ‘You stupid fucking bitch spit it out or don’t, stop wasting his time.’ “The reason I was doing that last night is because I- um- I had a wet dream. About you.” He stares at you blankly. ‘Oh god, I’ve really done it now he’s disgusted. He hates me. I’m so fucking filthy. What’s wrong with me?’ “Really,” he breathes finally, bringing a hand up to rest on your cheek. “I know it’s foolish to think about you like that but I can’t help it and-“ ‘oh god he’s leaning towards me what do I do?’ “M-may I kiss you,” he whispers, his breath ghosting across your lips as he speaks. You answer by simply wrapping your arms around his neck and pressing yourself into him, kissing him fervently.

“Is it disgusting that I touched myself when I heard all those sounds you were making? Am I a terrible man for jacking off to my daughter’s friend? The very fact that I kissed you- that I ever thought about you like that-” He looks genuinely disgusted with himself as he looks to you for an answer. You jump, bringing yourself to sit on the counter and pull him to you, his massive thighs resting between your legs. “You’re not disgusting,” you coo, stroking his hair soothingly. It’s surprisingly soft, making you bring your other hand up to rest in his hair as well. “You're a good man, everyone that’s met you knows that. Cold, maybe, but still good. I know that underneath whatever it is that you got going on in there,” you tug gently at his hair for emphasis. “There’s a man with his own needs and wants the same as everyone else, and who am I to deny a good man something we both want? Something we both need, hm?” “You’re smarter than this, stop being foolish. Why’d you waste your time on someone twice your age. There’s plenty of young people that’ll be able to give you what you deserve. Make you happy for a long time.”

You silently weigh your options as he speaks you can force yourself to leave now and let him spiral into self hatred, or you can hang around and fuck him. “But that’s not what I want. I want you. Don’t I deserve to be happy now too?” “You’ll get hurt,” he sighs. “Maybe I’m into that.” He lets out a laugh. “Was all that respect a facade?” Oh this was wrong. Really wrong. He was your best friend’s dad for God’s sake. “Maybe you should make me respect you again,” you giggle, pulling him in for another kiss. You’re surprised when he returns the favor, wrapping his arms around you and pulling you close to his body. You pull away and lean against his chest, catching your breath. He rests his cheek on the top of your head and nuzzles into your hair. “Did you really mean that,” he whispers. “Yes,” you reply equally as quiet. You hold each other in silence for some time, just enjoying the closeness of the other. “Jotaro, I’m serious, please, even if it’s just once, I need to know.” “You’re sure?” You nod into his chest.

Jotaro’s room was simple, yet inviting. You observed the details of the space from the edge of his bed while he carefully removes his clothing, laying them across the black leather chair in the corner. The chair had one of those corny motivational posters from the 90’s hanging over it. Something about beauty, but you figured it was there because of the dolphins on it. It wouldn’t have looked quite so out of place if it was just the picture. You shrug the thought off and get up, shedding your clothes and moving to hug Jotaro from behind. You peek around him before slinking around him and pushing yourself into his chest. “Easy, I can’t get my clothes wrinkled, alright?” He was always put together. It would be more than suspicious if Jolyne came home and saw him looking frumpy. Jolyne. Fuck what were you doing? ‘This’ll be a one time thing, and she’ll never know. I just need to know how he feels then I’ll be happy. Just this-‘

Your thoughts are interrupted as Jotaro turns around with you and tosses you onto the bed. He’s wearing just his boxers now and God, is he hot. “Are you sure you want this,” he questions, crawling into bed next to you. “Yes,” you reply, pulling him into another kiss. He rolls onto his back, pulling you to straddle him as you continue kissing. His hands are large and warm as they roam over your body, gently squeezing all the softest parts. “You’re so beautiful,” he murmurs against your lips before taking you in another kiss. You’ve never felt so safe with someone like this. He’d already given you every opportunity to decline him, and you knew that if you told him to stop he would, without hesitation. You break the kiss, your lungs crying out for air as Jotaro’s hand traces up your spine and unclasps your bra. You slip it from your shoulders and toss it across the room, exposing your chest to him. He pulls you up so he can trail kisses along your breasts, making you sigh at the sensation.

You roll off of him and silently urge him to get on top, which he does with no fuss. His finger curls into the waistband of your underwear as he pulls one side down your hip. “Can I take these off sweetheart?” “Yeah,” you breathe, lifting your hips to help him. He sits back and takes you in, his eyes hungrily roaming your naked body. “You’re just so beautiful,” he sighs, before pulling you to the edge of the bed and settling his shoulders between your thighs. His warm breath feathers against your exposed sex, making you shiver. He rests his head against your thigh momentarily, his hair tickling the tender flesh there. The gesture is comforting in a way, easing some of your anxieties. You cross your ankles over his shoulders, urging him to get closer. He obliges, licking a stripe up your slit, making you gasp. “Please,” you whisper, tangling your fingers in his hair, pulling him closer as he eats you like a starved man. He simply hums against you in response, nudging his nose against your clit as he delves his tongue into you, urging you closer and closer to your orgasam. You moan and dig your heels into his back, urging him closer to you. Jotaro groans at the sensation, pushing you over the edge. You tug harshly at his hair as he works you through your orgasam.

He crawls up the bed and flops down next to you, brushing a strand of hair from your face. “Was that good? I haven’t done that in a really long time,” he chuckles, pressing a chaste kiss to your lips. “It was amazing. Nobody’s ever made me cum like that.” “That’s disappointing,” he hums, pulling you into his huge body. “You want me to do it again?” “Yes, God yes, please.” He grunts and rolls over. You can hear him rummaging around in the nightstand before letting out a pleased noise and rolling back towards you. “Hm, safety first,” he hums, tearing the small foil packet between his fingers open with his teeth. You giggle and tug at his hair with one hand and stroking his cock with the other. “Hng, god even your hand feels good shit sweetheart, keep going like that.” “What if I used my mouth instead?” His cock twitches in your hand and he throws his arm across his eyes, moaning.

You move down and settle yourself between his huge thighs, your mouth watering at the sight of his strong cock standing at attention between them. You lick along the vein at the underside of him. He shivers at the contact and buries his hands in your hair. His moans get louder as you kitten lick your way up his shaft, practically shouting as you lick the precum from his weeping slit. “Oh god, that feel so good shit, fuck!” He’s much louder than you had expected him to be due to his quiet nature, constant praise falling from his lips as he guides you over his cock and urges you to take him into your mouth. The head of his cock nudges the back of your throat as you take him into your mouth, hollowing out your cheeks. “God sweetheart, you’re so good at this, taking my cock like this.” He lets out a guttural moan as you take him into your throat. He twitches in your mouth and you pull away from him, separating yourself from his cock with a wet pop, a trail of saliva leading from your swollen lips to his painfully hard dick.

You take the unwrapped condom from him and roll it onto him before flopping down beside him on your back. “Come on, sir, don’t you want to fuck me?” “If you want me you’re gonna have to beg for it sweetheart,” he growls, rolling on top of you and pinning your hands above your head. “Please, sir, I’ve been so good. Please use me.” Jotaro lets out a satisfied noise and moves his hand between the two of you, lining himself up with your entrance. You roll your hips, making the head of his cock catch on your clit and you gasp. He finally sinks into you, sheathing himself inside in one fluid motion. The stretch is both painful and the best thing you’ve ever felt, making you squirm under him. “You’re such a good girl, look at you taking all of my cock so easily.”

He rests inside of you for several minutes for you to adjust, occasionally giving just the smallest of strokes to keep himself hard as he waits. “Y-you can move now. It doesn’t hurt anymore,” you whisper, leaning up towards him. He leans down closer to your face and kisses you sweetly, beginning a moderate pace between your thighs. “You feel so good, so warm, taking me so well,” Your walls tighten around him and he groans, thrusting with more force than before. “So good, best I’ve ever fucking had hng. He’s still holding your hands above your head, so you stretch your fingers down to run along his hands. The rhythm of his thrusts becomes sporadic as he gets closer to his orgasam, jumbled praise and expletives falling from his lips as his cock twitches inside you and he stills.

The grip on your wrists loosens and he drops down on top of you before rolling onto his side and pulling you into him. “Are you okay sweetheart?” “Yeah I’m okay, was that good?” His arms tighten around your waist. “Good? I think that was the best sex I’ve ever had,” He chuckles, nuzzling his nose into your cheek. He’s so pleasant, which was definitely not something you had expected. He had always seemed the type to go into the bathroom and tell you to get gone before he came back out, but he wasn’t. You took your time cleaning each other up and helping to straighten each other’s hair and clothes.

He drove you home afterwards and made sure you were safe inside before driving off. Jolyne was home by the time he returned, so he told her you had gotten up late and asked him to drive you home because you had chores to do before your classes tomorrow. She believed him and went upstairs without another question. You and Jotaro were sure you had gotten away with your little rendezvous.

Jolyne called a few days later and you were, as usual, more than pleased to talk to her. “Hey, I have a question?” “Shoot,” “So I’m doing laundry right, and is there any reason your underwear is in my dad’s laundry basket?”