Plaything

Highlight of my Evening

Weed smoking, high sex on the porch

The sound of the door opening draws your from your pleasant, blissed-out state of mind, pulling you back to reality. “You okay out here honey?” It’s your husband, Jotaro, checking on you. He steps out, closing the door behind him and resting his hands against the back of your chair, looking down at you. “I’m alright baby, you going to bed,” you question, looking up at him, blowing a billow of smoke into his face. “Hm not yet, that’s not a cigarette is it?” You giggle at his question. “Course not, I’m not a chimney like you. You want some, old man?” “Mh, I think I’ll leave the Pot to the young.” “Come on you’re not that old, Joots.” “‘M twenty years older than you.” “So,” you question, lifting the joint up to him. “You want some baby? You ever smoked pot?” “Can’t say I have.” “Mh, can’t or won’t? Will you at least sit with me baby, It’s cold.” He hums and picks you up, taking your spot in the chair and sitting you in his lap. You crane your neck and capture his lips in a warm kiss, making you let out a satisfied groan against him.

So he was a horny smoker. Good to know. His teeth sink into the flesh of your throat before soothing it with the warmth of his tongue. “You’re so pretty, you know that? My pretty little wife, love you so much,” he murmurs, burying his face in your tits and humming. Lovey too. Every roll of his hips pushed his erection into your clothed crotch. You pull his face from your tits and bring him to look at you. “You horny Joots?” He lets out a strangled “Yes,” and slips his hands under your shirt, running his fingers along the flesh of your stomach. You pull your shirt over your head and toss it to the side, leaning in for more kisses, which Jotaro happily obliges you with. Your hands slide between the two of you, undoing his belts and pants, slipping under them and caressing his cock through his boxers. He groans and bucks his hips into your hand, silently begging you to keep going. His fingers trace gently over you through your shorts, pushing them to the side and stroking your clit at a languid pace. You moan into his mouth, rolling your hips into his hand greedily as you pull him out of his boxers. “How do you want me baby,” you question, stroking his hair from his face. “I wanna hold you,” he whispers, stroking your cheek with his free hand. “I wanna be as close as possible.”It’s strange seeing him like this, his teal eyes rimmed with red, his jaw slack, hair plastered to his forehead with sweat, needy little sounds spilling past his lips. He’s beautiful, but in a different way than he usually is. He’s vulnerable like this, asking for what he wants instead of waiting for you to catch on. It’s endearing to see your husband let his guard down so low like this, sacred even. You kiss his cheek and get up, shedding your shorts and turning your back on him, holding yourself above his cock. Moans tumble from both of you as you sink down onto him, taking him all in with ease, something that had taken practice to be able to achieve. He wraps his arms around your waist, trailing one hand down to toy with your clit as you press your back into his broad chest

You woke up a few hours later laying on Jotaro’s chest in your shared bed. At some point he must have taken you in and put you in your pyjamas before falling asleep too. You slip out of bed, careful not to wake him, and tiptoe to the kitchen for some water. You bring a glass back upstairs for him, certain that his mouth will be as dry, if not more so than yours was when he wakes up.

When you slip back into the bedroom, he’s already awake, stretching and yawning, which was understandable since that was probably the first deep sleep he’s had in weeks. “I brought you some water,” you hum, sliding back under the covers. “Thank you, my mouth is,” he smacks his tongue a few times. “It's so dry.” You let out a chuckle and pass him the glass before snuggling into his side. “Do you remember last night, or did you smoke too much?” “I remember. We should do that again some time, I really enjoyed it.” “Really? Like seriously, you like smoking weed now?” He lets out a hearty laugh, which is good to hear opposed to his usual suppressed chuckle. “You kidding? This is the best I’ve felt since I was, mh, probably fifteen.” “Really?” “Yeah I feel great. I slept great. I think I need a nap though,” he laughs, laying back down and pulling the blankets up to his chin. You laugh and do the same, curling up against his chest. He lets out a contented sigh and wraps his arms around you and pulls you closer, falling asleep without a problem for the second time in years.

thinking so very hard about completely owning The Corinthian. He's devoted. He's obsessed. He can't imagine a moment without you...

There's so many thoughts in here omg I'm working on something so fine.

He’s finally here

Update: I accidentally turned him into a communist and He’s forming a terror union with the other nightmares

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

Reiners big meaty hands

something about big rough hands running over your curves and the words “you’re so soft” being whispered into your ear just makes me turn into a mess

───clark can't sleep

notes: 18+, smut, nipple sucking

clark mouths at your nipple slowly and lazily, as if he's not in a rush to do anything except this, with his breath feels warm against your skin. he hums a low, satisfied hum as you move, your fingers in his hair, and then he drags his tongue over the top once again.

“clark,” you murmur, half a warning, half a sigh.

“mm?” he doesn’t stop, just flicks his tongue again, lips closing around you with a soft, wet pull.

“this is supposed to help you sleep.”

he exhales a quiet laugh, lips grazing sensitive skin. “it is.” another slow, deliberate suck, his fingers tracing the shape of your ribs. “this is the best way, actually. scientifically proven.”

you roll your eyes, but it’s hard to sound exasperated when he licks you like that, slow and warm. “is that so?”

“mhmm.” he nuzzles against you, breath steady. “calms me down. makes me feel good.” his voice is rough, softer than the dark pressing in around you. “makes you feel good too, doesn’t it?”

you don’t answer right away, and his teeth graze lightly in response, just enough to make you jolt. “thought so,” he murmurs, before sucking again, slower, deeper.

Never Meant

Warnings: angst, swearing

When Joseph Joestar had sent you a letter after your graduation you were beyond confused. You hadn’t heard from the old man in nearly a decade and here he was offering you a job at the Speedwagon Foundation. You had accepted, of course, grateful for such an amazing opportunity, and an excuse to see more of Dark Lady.

Several years later you had been the first on the Speedwagon team to be sent to Morioh to investigate the disappearances in the area. You had been told it was a quaint town, so you had chalked most of them up to runaways before you had even gotten there, but as soon as you had it became apparent that there were many stand users around. The whole atmosphere seemed to vibrate, making the hair on your neck stand on end.

You hadn’t been on such high alert since Egypt.

You then began your work of making the locals like you. It wasn’t really hard, just a few complements here and some extra grace there and just like that it seemed everyone liked you.

After being there only a week you received a letter from the Speedwagon Foundation, informing you that Joseph had a son in the area and that you were to keep an eye on him. Protect him. At least until Joseph could get there. It always seemed that whenever you found peace, the world threw another Joestar on your plate.

But you went, knocking on the door of the address you were given and waiting for a response. A younger woman opens the door and you explain that you’re there on Joseph’s behalf. She gives you a nasty look and tries to slam the door in your face. You jam the door with your foot and let yourself in.

She opens her mouth to scream and you give her a look that makes her rethink it immediately.

“Listen, Tomoko, I’m not Joseph’s wife, and I’m not his mistress. I’m just a friend and I don’t care if you fucked the old bastard. I’m just here to protect your boy from whatever’s going on around here, okay? I’m on your side.”

She nods and gestures to the couch, sitting beside you and calling out for, who you assume, is Joseph’s secret child.

You’re most surprised by how young he is. A teenager, definitely no older than sixteen. That meant he was born a few years before you had met Joseph. You weren’t surprised that he was still able to get around then, he was undeniably handsome, just not really your type.

Tomoko introduces you to her son, Josuke, and you nod, wordlessly getting up and pushing the left sleeve of his t-shirt up, revealing the star-shaped birthmark. You nod to yourself and shake his hand, finally introducing yourself.

Out of curiosity you bring Dark Lady forward and make her sit beside you, tail curled around her feet, her head resting on your thigh. The boy’s eyes widen and he backs away a couple steps.

“I see,” you hum, allowing your stand to return to wherever she goes when she’s not with you. You liked to think that all stands went to the same place when they weren’t aiding their masters, and that she and Star Platinum still shared space somewhere. Maybe Hierophant Green was there as well. One could only hope.

You return to your seat and explain the situation to the both of them, omitting certain parts that you would later tell Josuke in private, as not to make Tomoko think you were insane. You also informed them that the Foundation was sending you a second set of eyes to aid you on your mission, and that they would arrive in a couple days.

Josuke had suggested you go to his friends house to speak away from his mother. It was there that you had explained Dark Lady, and his own stand, who he called Crazy Diamond, to him. You had also told him that his father was coming to visit, and while he wouldn’t be forced to see him, he was more than welcome to join you in picking him up.

When the boat arrived a couple days later, Josuke had decided to join you after all, so it was there that you saw Joseph for the first time in twelve years. The first thing you noticed was how absolutely decrepit he was, so naturally you commented on it, telling him how shitty he looked, earning you a swift whack from his cane.

After your vision had stopped swimming, you looked around, knowing that your partner was going to be the one escorting Joseph. A broad white-clad chest was what was before you, so you followed the figure and were surprised to be met with a more than familiar set of teal eyes.

Of course. Joseph hadn’t known of how deeply involved you were with his grandson, and you doubted Jotaro had told him. From what you could tell, Joseph had just picked people he trusted that he knew got along.

You had heard that Polnareff was severely injured in a mission the previous year, rendering him unable to go back into the field. It wouldn’t be long before the old man died, leaving just the three of you. Just more reminders of how thinly stretched the original crusaders were now.

You decide to save the greetings you had for Jotaro for later, focusing on helping Joseph, and making sure he got an earful for cheating on Suzie, though it probably only ended up being about half an earful as deaf as he seemed to be these days.

After a long day of that bullshit, you returned to the Hotel Morioh and locked yourself in your room to ponder your mortality and insignificant place in this world. You doctor had told you it wasn’t a great thing to do, but if you pushed it away too much then it would all crash down on you and leave you unable to function for two days.

A knock at your door draws your attention and you gladly answer it. It’s Jojo. God how you’d missed him. You throw your arms around his massive torso and squeeze him. He returns the gesture, pressing you into his warm body, where you revel in his scent once again.

“Long time no see,” he mumbles when you finally part.

“No kidding,” you chuckle, gesturing for him to make himself at home as you lock the door behind him.

“I’ve missed you terribly,” he states, standing at the window, looking out at the waves crashing on the beach. “But it can’t be like last time. Not now anyways. I um, I got married a few years ago, and uh, we have a little girl. Jolyne. She’s uh, she’s six now.”

Six. He had a six year old and a wife waiting for him at home.

“Lucky man,” you murmur, a deep sinking sadness rising within you. You had been so caught up in your work you hadn’t even made an effort to settle down.

“What about you,” he questions, turning to face you.

“Oh, uh, nothing for me, really, just work. Always working.”

“I’m sorry,” Jotaro replies, coming to rest a hand on your shoulder.

“It’s fine. I'm still young. I have plenty of time to do something for myself.”

He sighs and drops his hand. “I hope so. I think my wife’s gonna leave me. I'm never home, and she doesn’t understand it’s to keep them safe. But honestly, I don’t think I’d mind. At least then I know they’d be safe, and maybe I wouldn’t feel so bad being gone if it was like that.”

Tears welled in your eyes at the idea of him being happy somewhere far away with someone else and before you can stop yourself the words fall from your mouth:

“Do you love her?”

Jotaro takes his hat off and runs his fingers through his hair.

“I don’t know. I don’t know if I do now, and I don’t know if I ever did. I thought I did when I met her, but the longer I’m away, the more I think about it, I wonder if I made the right decision.”

“I don’t care if you made the right decision, I asked if you loved her.”

“Not now. Not anymore. I love Jolyne, and I always will. I’ll do anything for her, but I don’t know if I can say the same for her mother.”

You nod in understanding, rubbing his shoulders, feeling them relax slightly under your touch.

“I should have waited. You would have understood better than she does. You understand how I act. It was stupid of me, to rush in, to give up. I’ve had so many opportunities to have what I wanted but I let them slip away. Sometimes I wonder if we’re just not meant to be us.”

“Us?”

He laughs sadly. “Yeah, Us, a singular thing. Us.”

“You need to leave,” you state suddenly, grabbing his arm and leading him towards the door.

“Did I say something wrong? I’m sorry.”

“No, Jotaro,” you shout, throwing the door open so hard the knob dents the wall despite the stopper. “That’s the fucking problem, you say everything I’ve ever wanted you to tell me at the worst possible time. You think it’s okay to just waltz into my room, after all we’ve been through, after all these years and tell me that you’ve married another woman? Do you know what it’s like to be me? How fucking alone I’ve been because you didn’t say this nine years ago?”

You lean against the wall, trying to calm your breathing so your heart rate will lower.

“Every night I dream of having what you just described to me with you. I want nothing more than to have a life with you instead of just around you.”

“Y/n, I'm sorry. I want to make this up to you somehow. Please.”

“I know how you can make this up to me. Finish this mission. Alone. If I never see another Joestar again it’ll be too soon, now get out.”

You look up for just a moment and see the pained expression on Jotaro’s face, and you look away quickly before you go crawling back to him. After he leaves you lock the door behind him and begin shoving your belongings into your suitcase, a strangled sob ripping from your throat as you strip down to your underwear and fall face first on the bed, crying into your pillow like you had after you had left him the first time. Maybe the two of you were just never meant.

“Bible Study”

Cw: mentions of abuse,puritan culture, secret relationship

You trembled as you sat at the table across from your father. He was calm, too calm. His collected demeanor was merely a mask to cover the rage he would inevitably let loose on you.

“I’ve heard things about you, y/n. Things I don’t want to be hearin’. You been disappearin’ a lot more and people are saying you’ve been running around with boys.”

You fight the urge to turn your eyes away from your father’s as you think about the last few months. You had been running around, though not with boys. You’d been spending every free moment you had with a man. A godly man, whom you trusted to protect you from the forces of the Devil while he used your body for sin.

“I haven’t been running around. I’ve been with Father Sunday, you can ask him. You know how I struggle to grasp my readings. He’s been kind enough to help me with the word.” You state, trying your best to sound as innocent as possible.

“Get up,” he snaps, causing you to jump in your seat, straightening your spine to attention as you stand.

“Where are we going,” you question, voice trembling as all the possible punishments your father could lay on you race through your mind.

“We’re going to have a word with Father Sunday, and if he doesn't corroborate your story you best hope we’re out of grits,” he growls, grabbing the back of your neck forcefully and guiding you towards the front door, jolting you harshly as you struggle to keep up.

He marches you across the field to the chapel beneath the tree and kicks the door open, pushing you down the aisle to where Eli kneels before the cross, his head bowed in prayer.

“Father Sunday,” your father calls, startling Eli from his task. “I’m terribly sorry to bother you so late in the evening, but I have reason to believe my daughter’s gotten herself into a predicament.”

Eli stands and turns to face you, taking your hands in his and gently pulling you away from your fathers grasp. “Oh that’s quite alright. What ails you child,” he hums, bringing his palm up to rest on your forehead.

“Word around town is that she’s been running around with boys and getting up to ungodly things.”

“Oh, no no,” Eli murmurs, moving your body so his view of your father is unobstructed. “That’s simply not true. She’s been here with me, studying. I know how she struggles and how terribly she wishes to be close to God. She’s done nothing wrong, and I’ll make sure everybody knows that. I was worried when she didn’t make it this afternoon, was it at your discretion sir?”

“I kept her home to question her on the matter.”

“I see,” Eli hums, looking over at you, taking notice of the way your hand trembled in his. “Would you still like to study this evening instead? I’ve got plenty of lamp oil.”

You nod softly at his offer. “Yes sir, I’d appreciate it.”

Eli releases your hand and turns his attention to your father. “She’s in good hands, sir. I’ll see to it that she gets home safe.”

You watch as your father nods curtly, merley giving Eli a grunt as he turns on his heel and retreats through the heavy doors of the church.

As soon as the door slams behind him you fall into Eli, a sob wracking your body as his arms wrap around you. “Oh Eli, thank you. Thank you.”

Eli’s hands grip your shoulder as he pushes you away to look at your face. “What’s he done to you now?”

“Nothing. He didn’t do anything this time. If your story hadn’t agreed he’d have made me kneel in grits again.”

“Oh darling, my darling girl. I won’t allow it. I’ll make my next sermon about sparing the rod, he’s sure to listen,” he rambles, his hands roaming hurriedly as the pads of his fingers trace the contours of your face, wiping your tears away.

“Eli, that won’t do a thing.”

“You should marry me. If we got married I could take you away from him for good. He could never put his hands on you again. We wouldn't even have to share a bed if you don’t want to.”

“Please, Eli, I don’t want to think about that anymore.”

His arms relax, pulling you towards him and the weight of his head resting on yours comforts you. “Alright then. I understand. Let’s go into the study.”

“Of course Eli, let’s,” you hum, allowing him to lead you into his study and settle you into the chair across from him.

“So aside from your father, how have you been since I last saw you, darling,” he questions, reaching across his desk to take your hands into his once again.

“I’ve been well, just helping mother with the canning for winter when I’m not with you.”

“Do you like being here, with me?”

“Of course I do Eli, I wouldn’t come around if I didn’t. I- I do love you, you know.”

“I love you too, darling. I meant what I said. I would like to marry you.”

“We can’t now, my father’s already suspicious. Just give it a year, then we’ll be safe.”

Eli sighs, leaning to rest his head on his arm. “I wish he wasn’t so cruel to you. I’d kill him if I could.”

“Eli, don’t talk like that. It’s sinful.”

“All I care about is you. I just want you to be free.”

“And I will be in time.”

He sighs again and brings you hand to his lips, kissing it gently and looking up at you.

“You’re the most beautiful woman I’ve ever seen,” he hums, making a warm blush creep across your cheeks. “I haven’t done right by you and I’m sorry. I shouldn’t have asked you to take so many risks for me.”

“I wouldn’t have if I didn’t want to.”

“I haven’t forced your hand?”

“Never,” you reply, pulling him into a kiss. “I’m my own woman, I don’t need a preacher-man to guide me. I understand the Bible just as well as you, you know, I just wanted a reason to spend time with you.”

He laughs and brings his hand to cup your cheek. “Well, I’m glad your father thinks you’re as foolish as he is.”

REBLOG IF ITS OKAY TO TALK TO YOU.

Please.