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#nighty night!!! 😘😘😘😘
mrsoharaa · 3 months
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“Come on, kiss me like you mean it angel, show me how much you want it”
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aurorawritestoescape · 3 months
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WHO’S YOUR DADDY?
Joel Miller x f!reader x Dave York || 2,7k
Part 2 of Table for Three (can be read alone)
Summary: Joel Face Times you.
Tw: 18+ mdni, smut, mfm (kinda), not specified age gap, dom/sub dynamic, daddy kink, praise kink, light degradation, squirting, m!oral, f/m masturbation, cum eating, voyeurism, exhibitionism, pet names (baby, kitten, babygirl, sweetie). Pics are for the mood only, reader has hair, but no other specific physical descriptions.
A/n: I saw that video and had to write this. Pedro is such a menace! Warm hugs to @iamasaddie for the gif in the m/b❀Kisses to @milla-frenchy for beta-ing💖 Dividers by @saradika-graphics 💕 Hope you’ll like it! Love you all😘
Pt 1 TABLE FOR THREE || GET A TASTE || MASTERLIST
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“Who’s your daddy?”
“Fuck off, Joel, you know it’s not you.”
Joel is Face Timing you while you’re still lying in bed in the early afternoon after a night of passionate fucking with your boyfriend Dave.
You are surprised by your ex’s call but can’t deny that after last week when you sucked him off at a restaurant, meanwhile sitting on Dave’s cock, the surprise is pleasant.
Joel’s in his bedroom, judging by the background, and he looks so hot, you immediately gush. His hair is slicked back, chocolatey eyes sparking with mischief and his five day stubble is calling to be rubbed against your pussy.
“Yeah, I know Dave’s your dom daddy now. Is he with ya?”
“Dom daddy,” you snicker, rolling your eyes, “you watch too much porn, Joel.”
“Yeah, ya think I’m beating my own meat every day, cryin’ over you, babe?
“Aren’t you?”
You both stare at each other but Joel cracks first as a smile tugs at his lips and you both laugh. After a few moments you remember the question he asked.
“Dave’s in the kitchen. Why are you calling? I thought you had me blocked. Or vice versa.”
“Well, i reckon, none of us could say ‘goodbye’”.
“Oh, I can now. Bye, Joel!”
“Wait, wait, baby,” he gruffs hastily through the phone speaker, stopping you from hanging up.
“What?”
“I need to ask ya somethin’. ‘s important”. He narrows his eyes, his expression is serious.
“What is it?”
Joel’s squinting at you for a few seconds while you’re taking in his combed back curls, his handsome tanned face, broad shoulders under a plaid shirt. Every time he talks, his voice makes your pussy tingle, sounding even sexier through the phone. Finally he breaks the silence.
“What are you wearin’?”
You can’t help but laugh.
“You’re an asshole, Joel.”
“I’m just a man in love.”
You giggle, raising your brows and shaking your head in disbelief.
“You hated me a few days ago.”
“I did, baby. But I let the past go.”
You take a deep breath, feeling your guilt for what you did years ago slightly lifted off your heart.
“So?” He presses.
“I’m not telling you, Joel.”
“Ok, then just show me.”
You bite your lip, contemplating your next move. Your eyes dart to the door where you hear Dave, making breakfast for you two. You don’t think he would mind you flirting with your ex a little, considering he let you give the older man a handie in front of him. Besides, you look very cute in your sexy nightie with nothing else underneath so you change the angle of the phone so Joel could peek at your body, splayed on the bed, a blanket covering just a part of your leg.
You hear a whistle and your heart sings.
“Pretty, babygirl. Did he buy it for ya?”
“He did,” you reply with defiance in your voice.
“‘s he rich?”
“Dave’s doing fine. But I’m with him not because of money if that’s what you’re implying.”
“Ain’t implying anythin’.”
Then you just look at each other as the air in the rooms gets heavier and a light flirting morphs into something else. Joel breaks the silence first.
“I’m happy for you, sweetheart.”
You haven’t expected that and suddenly your throat gets squeezed with emotions.
“Thank you, Joel,” you say softly.
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“Who are you talking to?”
Dave walks into the room with two mugs of coffee and the aroma quickly fills the bedroom. He’s wearing a gray tee and a pair of sweatpants.
“Joel’s FaceTiming me.”
“Joel?” Dave repeats with his brows raised.
He puts the coffees on the nightstand and lies down next to you and your mouth waters as his scent engulfs you.
You shift the position of the phone so Joel could see you both and Dave greets your ex.
“Joel says that he’s happy for me,” you tell your boyfriend with excitement in your voice.
“Oh, thank you, Joel. I’m glad that you two solved your past issues.”
“Her apology really helped, man. I wouldn’t say no to another one though.”
Joel winks at you and Dave smirks, “I understand. She’s very good at apologizing.”
Your eyes are darting between the two men. You can’t shake the feeling of wanting them both and your pussy tingles with desire. Dave’s body pressed to yours sends a surge of arousal to your core and you feel the cold air of the room on your bare wet folds and shiver with excitement. Joel is making you even hornier. He looks hot and masculine with his slightly wet hair. He must have had a shower.
For a second you remember how he made you squirt for the first time. On his knees in the shower in front of you he licked at your pussy and sucked your clit until your legs started trembling but he didn’t stop and began pumping his thick fingers into you, curving them and pushing on that sweet spot in your burning core. In no time you were spraying your juices everywhere, his hand squelching against your folds as he was repeatedly hitting your clit with the heel of his palm. Only your hands on his broad shoulders helped you not to collapse on the floor.
“Kitten!”
Dave calls you, not for the first time apparently, and you blink at him trying to shake the images of the past that were occupying your mind just a second ago.
Joel laughs, “Babygirl, were you thinking of us just now?”
“No,” you mumble, averting your eyes from both of them.
“You’re lying,” Dave says, not asking, and you see his gaze darken. It’s filled with curiosity and lust.
“Tell me what you were thinking about.”
“I—I just,” you stutter, looking at one man and then the other.
“It’s ok, kitten. You two had a past. Daddy wants to know.”
You swallow loudly and reply, “I was remembering—.” It’s so quiet in the room. “—how Joel made me squirt for the first time.”
Joel’s smug grin can be seen from fucking space. He looks sickeningly proud of himself and you immediately regret telling them.
Dave smiles carnally, as if he was waiting for that, and asks,
“How did it happen?”
“In the shower. He ate me out and fingered me.”
Dave turns his face to your phone and asks Joel, “Did you plan on doing it?”
“Yeah, I wanted her to squirt all over me. Does she squirt with you?”
“Yes, she’s a talented girl. Thank you for giving her her first time,” your boyfriend says to your ex and you’re afraid that you’re going to soak through your nightie. But Dave doesn’t give you a respite.
“Kitten, say ‘thank you’ to Joel.”
“Thank you, Joel,” you purr obediently and the older man winks at you through the screen.
“You’re welcome, babygirl.”
You see Dave adjust himself and notice that his prominent bulge has grown even bigger since he joined you two on the bed. He’s enjoying Joel’s call just as much as you are.
Not being able to wait any longer, you get closer to your boyfriend and put your head on his shoulder. With your big eyes looking up at him, batting your lashes the way you know makes his cock twitch, you ask,
“Can we fuck, daddy?”
You hear Joel curse under his breath and then groan. It’s clear that he wishes to be here with you.
“It’s a little rude, baby,” Dave chides you, “We haven’t finished talking to our friend, have we?”
You whine, pouting your lips and he turns to you and pecks your nose.
“How about you put your pretty mouth on my cock and I’ll talk to Joel.”
You hear Joel’s half chuckle-half grunt and almost drool at the suggestion and swiftly reply with an ‘ok, daddy.”
Then you give Dave your phone and climb down the bed, getting comfortable between your boyfriend’s legs, your head hovering over his huge bulge.
“We can talk, Joel, but maybe you’d like to watch as well?”
You don’t see your ex but you know his eyes are obsidian with lust right now.
“Fuck, yeah. Show me what our— your little slut is up to.”
Dave presses the reverse camera button and positions it with his big hands so Joel can see you perfectly.
By now you have already freed Dave’s semi hard cock and it twitches as you’re holding it inches from your lips. You smile at the camera and give Joel a wink.
“Show daddies what that mouth’s good for,” Joel encourages you and Dave smirks, “You’re right. Sucking cock is truly her calling.”
Eager to prove them right you wrap your hand around the base of Dave’s cock tighter, open your lips and circle them around the fat head.
Your boyfriend bucks his hips, impatient to slide his whole length into your mouth, but you decide to give them both a show so you lick a wet languid stripe from the base of Dave’s cock to the weeping tip, covering the underside with your warm saliva.
Then you kitten-lick the slit, gathering his clear precum, and a moan escapes your lips at the taste, as you flutter your eyes shut.
“Shit, Dave, ya lucky bastard.”
“Her mouth is fucking heaven, Joel. Baby, show our friend what you can do to daddy’s balls.”
You smile and nod, before lowering your head. Your hand is still holding Dave’s cock but your tongue is now licking at your boyfriend’s balls, and you tilt your head to get a better angle.
“Fuck, babygirl. Doin’ real good,” you hear Joel’s praise, followed by a sound of a zipper.
Your ears immediately perk up and you ask, parting from Dave’s balls for a moment,
“Joel, are you gonna jerk off?”
“‘m afraid so, sweetheart. If Dave doesn’t mind.”
“I don’t, Joel,” Dave says, his half lidded eyes shifting between you, gliding your cheek against his cock, and the man on the screen, “let’s see if this little slut can make two men come. A bit of a challenge for my kitten.”
You purr at his words, feeling your heated pussy ache with need and pressing your thighs together.
“Can I touch myself, daddy?” You ask as impatience paints your words.
“Not yet, baby. Work my balls a little more and maybe I’ll let you come.”
The hope is all you need so you get back to Dave’s heavy balls and start sucking on them, licking the seam and then open your jaw wide to take one in your mouth. As you’re rolling it with your tongue, you hear Joel’s growling and the sound of him fucking his fist.
Dave’s eyes are set on your lips wrapped around his ball but from time to time his gaze flicks to the phone where Joel is pumping his cock and you moan at the fact that the image of your ex, pleasuring himself turns on your boyfriend.
Dave’s dominant, always controls the situation, but you’ve noticed that he loves seeing what you do to other men, how much you affect them. You suspect that’s one of the reasons why he loves such a giant slut like you.
“Ok, kitten, get to the main course,” Dave commands and you part from his ball with a pop so you could give his cock your full attention.
Through the squelching sounds coming through the speaker you hear Joel encouraging you,
“Yeah, deepthroat that cock, babygirl. Still can’t forget how good you could swallow me. Remember, sweetie?”
You slightly nod with your boyfriend's tip already breaching your puffy lips. You unhinge your jaw and slowly take him all in, soon nuzzling his trimmed hair. Dave groans and clenches your hair with a tight grip, gently rolling his hips to help you swallow him.
“That’s my good girl. Take everything I give you. Make daddy proud.”
Your throat contracts around your boyfriend’s cock while the fap-fap-fap noises, coming from the phone, are getting faster.
“Fuck, Dave, are we gonna come at the same time?”
Dave chuckles as his dark eyes almost close with pleasure.
“Yeah, I’m gonna feed it to her soon. Get ready.”
“Let’s do it, man,” Joel almost moans.
“You too, kitten. Play with your little pussy. Bet it’s so messy right now.”
You take Dave’s cock out of your mouth and croak, “Thank you, daddy.”
To give them both the best view, you lift your ass in the air, getting on your knees, and the bottom of your nightie slides down to your waist. Now Dave and Joel can see your naked ass as a background of the blowie. Your hand slithers to your pussy and your fingers dip between your folds. Dave’s right — you’re dripping like a faucet.
You easily insert two fingers into your hole as your mouth swallows Dave’s cock again. You start plunging your digits in and out of your warm cunt, slightly rolling your hips while your head bobs as you’re massaging Dave’s manhood.
The groans of your boyfriend and your ex fill the room, mixing with your muffled moans and whimpers.
Dave’s leaking a lot into your eager mouth and you know he’s close.
“Fuck, if I was there with ya, we’d fuck all your holes, babygirl,” Joel grunts, his teeth clenched, as he’s probably trying not to bust his load just yet.
“Would you take her ass or her pussy, Joel?” Dave asks and your cunt clenches around your own fingers.
“You’d share her with me like that?” Joel asks.
“I’m a generous host, Joel. You can choose.”
“I’d fuck her pussy, pal. I miss it more than anything. She’s sloppy all the fucking time. Loved her sweet cunt.”
“‘k, I’d be fine with the ass. I work her open fast now. She sometimes wears a plug. Pretty little toy. We’ll show you one day.”
“Be happy to see it.”
Your ex and your boyfriend’s discussion about fucking your holes like you’re their mindless fuck toy is the final drop in a full glass of your pleasure and you overflow with ecstasy as your pussy spills squirt all over your hand, between your thighs and on the bed under you while you’re moaning loudly around Dave’s cock.
The vibrations of your throat and your euphoric expression makes him explode too and he satisfies your thirst, spurting his cum down your throat. Dave gives you so much, you almost choke on his thick load but swallow it swiftly again and again.
“Fuck yeah, babygirl, drink it up,” Joel groans, probably seeing the creamy seed, seeping out of the corners of your lips, and makes a loud grunt, the sound so familiar and dear to you.
You know he’s coming.
The noises from the speaker get wetter and you regret not being able to taste your ex too.
When you take everything Dave gives you, you pull your mouth away from his cock and rest your head on his hairy thigh, catching your breath and licking your puffy lips.
“You did it, kitten. You made us both come. And at the same time,” Dave praises you, gently patting your head, and you purr, closing your eyes with satisfaction. Your body is pleasantly tingling after a great orgasm.
“Can I talk to her, Dave?” you hear Joel’s tired voice and lift your head up.
“Of course,” Dave turns the screen to you and you see your ex’s face on the screen, cheeks redder than before, his eyes hazy. He smiles at you warmly and rasps,
“Thank you, babygirl. I enjoyed the show. Now I need another shower,” he laughs and you and Dave both follow.
“Ok, Joel, was good talking to you. Among other things,” Dave says, turning the phone back at him, “We should meet. We have a lot to discuss. And share.”
“Yeah, Dave. Any time.”
The promise of them both fucking you makes your pussy tingle again and you bite your lip, already daydreaming about it.
Dave hangs up and throws your phone on the bed.
“I’m proud of you, kitten. You did great. Now go get your prize and sit on daddy’s face. Let me clean this messy pussy.”
You almost squeal with excitement, immediately following his order.
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Thank you for reading! Please comment and reblog if you enjoyed the fic, it motivates me to write more stories for you, lovelies!💖đŸŒș
Table for Three || Get a Taste || Masterlist
General tag list: @milla-frenchy @harriedandharassed @iamasaddie @nervousmumbling @bbyanarchist @stevie75 @puduvallee @auteurdelabre @mountainsandmayhem @senoratess @flamingochick55 @theoraekenslover @schnarfer @mermaidgirl30 @staywildflowahchild @yesjazzywazzylove-blog @evolnoomym @keylimebeag @joelmillerisapunk
Also tagging some wonderful people who might be interested❀ @bonezone44 @janaispunk @neverwheremoonchild @survivingandenduring @tammythr @604to647 @baronessvonglitter
If you'd like to be tagged in my future fics, let me know!💕
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johnwickb1tsch · 7 months
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bittersweet ~ a yandere!John Wick x fem!reader sunshine/grump coffee shop AU... Part 20 all chapters
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gif credit to dilfgifs
WARNING: NSFW, SEXUAL CONTENT, YANDERE SH!T. Plz take care. I luv u all. 😘
-You try to go as long as you can, but later that night you decide you just can’t stand it anymore. You’re pretty sure it’s been days, and you feel gross.
“Can I
use your shower?”
He turns to you with a small smile. “You mean, our shower? Yes.”
Hoping that’s the end of it, and this exchange won’t get weird, you slip out from under his arm to go into the bathroom. You check your prospects, finding expensive shampoo, conditioner, bodywash, shaving gel
but no razor. You guess you get it, kind of, but really. Then again, maybe you'd better not ask. Why send mixed signals by shaving off your body hair? It’s just an aesthetic mostly catering to the male gaze anyway

But it bugs you.
You pop your head back out of the door. “Razor?”
He doesn’t even look up from his book.
“You’ve got to be kidding me.”
This annoys you for some reason. “Just so you know, I am not going to try to kill myself.” Brave words for someone in your situation, but at least at the moment, you mean them.
“I was more worried you might try to kill me.”
You open your mouth again, until he fixes you with that laser-like stare. “Just take your shower, y/n, or do I have to come in there to help you?”
The thought of his large hands on your body slick with soap sends an inconvenient spear of desire straight to your center.
“No.”
You disappear fast as a groundhog into its burrow, closing the door behind you.
“Door open!” he yells in that particular tone, and sensing the shift in his mood, you comply rather than pull his tail some more.
Well done, you, you chide yourself as you strip out of your dirty dress and your ACE bandage in the cavernous shower. He was actually in a good mood, somehow, after you tried to knock his head off with a book. And now you
what? You did something to piss him off, at least a little bit.
Learning his moods was going to take some doing.
It was the only way you were getting out of here alive.
You keep looking over your shoulder, half expecting to see him looming behind you. That man moves silent as a ghost when he feels like it.
It’s creepy. And
kind of hot, if you’re being honest, but that is not a helpful thought.
You feel a thousand times better with all the grime washed from your hair and your body. You wrap yourself in a big fluffy towel that feels like a cloud on your skin, and put off going into the bedroom by drying your hair.
There are products on the sink that you use, face lotions and hair creams, and more expensive versions of the same type that you could never afford. How did he know?
Then again, he has fucking gorgeous hair, he probably knows more about styling product than you do.   
You turn to look at his handiwork upon your bum. The bruise is a red and purple swirl nearly the size of your fist. You can actually see the neat lines of his teeth marks. “Jesus Christ.”
His eye was going to heal way before that was.
When you can’t really dawdle in the bathroom anymore, you war with the next conundrum.
Fresh clothes.
Fuck it. You march out, heading for the closet without making eye contact with the reclining leopard on the bed. You can feel his eyes on you, and fuck if it doesn’t turn you on to be watched like that. Like you are some kind of prize to be desired.
It feels utterly insane to you, to say the least. You’re not that beautiful, but he looks at you like you’re Helen of Troy.  
With your hand on the closet door John clears his throat pointedly.
You know you can’t ignore him. Risking his wrath while you’re wrapped in nothing but a bath towel is so not a good idea.
You turn to find he’s laid something out at the foot of the bed for you already.
“Wear this,” he says. It’s an order clothed in velvet. Polite, but
you sense the unyielding directive underneath.
You pad on bare feet to the foot of the bed. It’s a silky lavender nightie with lace at the bodice. Nothing too wacky. No embarrassing peep holes or extraneous straps. You are somewhat relieved.
Until you see the underwear he’s paired with them.
Your underwear, as a matter of fact.   
Those went missing a long time ago.
Speechless, you look to him, knowing you look like a fish out of water but unsure what to say.
This has been going on for way longer than you even knew, and you didn’t have a clue.
“You took these from my apartment.” You manage not to yell it.
“I didn’t want you to wear them for anyone but me.” He has the cheek to sound grouchy about it, like you did something wrong.
You feel your temper rising like the mercury in a thermometer. You know you’re going to say something stupid, but you just don’t know how to keep it in.
“How. Fucking. Dare you?”
He just sighs, like he already knows how this is going to go. “Don’t play this game with me, baby.”
You bite down on the impulse to demand he not call you baby.
“You could have just
asked me out. I would have said yes, you know?”
He actually looks away as you tell him this.
“Maybe you would have. Until you realized I’m just a bitter old man, and you would have left me.”
You blink at that. How can he be so smart, and yet so blind?
“I knew you were a bitter old man all along! But you know what? I liked you anyway. I thought you were interesting, and funny, and so fucking handsome, and I wanted to fuck you. But now
” You clench your fists, shaking with all the vitriol you know you can’t unleash on this unpredictable man.
This unpredictable killer.
He takes your fury, seemingly nonplussed. You’re not sure any of it registers at all, and it takes some of the wind out of your sails. “This isn’t love, John,” you say quietly, your throat tightening with every syllable. “Love is
having the courage to bare your heart to the sword, and take what comes. You can’t control it like this.”
He tilts his head at this, a wave of that lovely dark hair covering his face. You get the feeling like he’s hiding from you, when he does that.
Finally he asks, “Have you ever been stabbed, y/n?”
Your heart skips a beat, as you wonder if he’s threatening you. “No.”
“Well let me tell you. It fucking hurts.”
Then he reaches down the bed to pluck up the panties, sticking them in his pocket. “I guess I’ll just keep these. You’re not going to need them anyway.”
You glare daggers at him.
He offers you the slightest, smuggest, smile.
“You sonofabitch.”
“Watch that mouth, kitten. Unless you want me to fill it up with something else.”
You bare your teeth with the thought. “I fucking dare you,” you spit, snatching up the nightie to take it to the bathroom to change.
“Nuh uh,” he interjects. “Change here.”
You freeze in your tracks, understanding exactly what he’s demanding of you.
This is how it’s going to be, you tell yourself. He’s going to be sweet, and then he’s going to be insufferable, and if you’re not careful, he’ll get downright mean. Don’t be fooled by the sweet moods, because all the rest is just beneath the surface waiting.
It was so hard to remind yourself of that, when he was being good to you.
You don’t turn around. You moonlighted as a drawing model after college. You can handle this, right? He’s already seen parts of you anyway

It’s soooooooooo much different than being in that classroom, when you undo your towel and let it fall to the floor. You can feel the weight of his gaze on your bare form. In the end, knowing it’s just your backside, that he’s already gotten way more than an eyeful of
doesn’t really help. With shaking hands you quickly you pull the nightie over your head.
You hope he feels guilty about the size of that fucking bruise, but you have a feeling he probably likes seeing his marks on you.
“Come here.” He practically purrs, and your flesh aches for the sound. Fuck.
You turn to face him, but do not move. Once again, that glorious boner is making an appearance. It’s almost flattering, how often this man has a hard-on when he’s around you. If this had been a normal relationship, you would have made it your mission to oblige him at every opportunity, just to see what the old man could take.
As it is
all you want to do is fight him, and you know you are destined to lose.
He pats his thigh, as though he expects you to sit on his lap. Without underwear. Or a bra. Or a sense of self-preservation.
You shake your head no with the glitter of moisture in the corners of your eyes. You’ve never felt so helpless in your life, and you hate it.
 He frowns at your defiance. My god, no one can do a forbidding frown, like Mr. John Wick. It lodges your heart in your throat, even while you find him magnificent.
“Are you going to make me make you?”
And there it is.
You sigh, and you feel like a piece of your soul exits your body. Good. Good, be empty. He can’t hurt an empty husk.
“I guess so.”
You close your eyes, and you wait. You wait for his rough hands, for the violence that is surely coming to you. You shake like a leaf, unable to stop. You don't know why you'd allowed yourself to hold out some hope, that maybe he really wasn't going to hurt you.
Yet, it does not come.
You open your eyes to find him still frowning at you. He hasn’t moved a muscle.
The longest three seconds of your life tick by. You count them in your thundering heartbeats, and then he scoots over on the bed. “Fine. Come lay by me then.”
You are shocked to your toes. You forget how to move. 
“Now.” He snaps his fingers, pointing to the bed beside him, and you scurry over before he loses his patience with this kinder offer. Cautiously you crawl up beside him, and when he holds up his arm you understand the cue, snuggling into his side with your head on his shoulder. 
Alright, this, you can do. 
This feels almost
normal. The way your head fits into the divot of his shoulder is just
divine, if you’re being honest, and your body shudders as you suppress a sob, hiding your face against his chest. It’s not fair, that you still want him so much, and you mourn for the promise of sweetness that was snatched from your table before you ever really got a chance to taste it.
“Shh,” he soothes, touching your hair, his big hand dwarfing the crown of your head. “I’ll try to remember to be patient with you.”
You nod against him, wanting to believe him, knowing that makes you a sad little fool.
“But my patience has its limits. Remember that, kitten.”
Oh. You weren’t going to forget.
He continues to hold you, and eventually your heart slows, the tension in your body finally relaxing.
It’s incredible, really, how you just can’t leave well enough alone.
Now that you’ve both calmed, you feel bold enough to ask, “John?”
“Yeah, baby?” His lips on the top of your head make your eyelids flutter, it’s so sweet.
“Do you
at least know that it was wrong, to break into my apartment?” You feel like the answer to this one question will help you gauge everything about his state of mind.
He is silent for a long time. Long enough to let your imagination run rampant with the things he might do to punish you for this impertinence, after he was so generous as to just let you lay down with him and snuggle.
Yet there’s no anger in his voice when he answers, “Yeah. But I’ve been breaking the law my whole life, sweetheart, and no one’s stopped me yet.”
It’s the truth, and a nice neat little warning, all wrapped up in one.
You should be scared again, but you just sigh against his chest. Maybe you’ve used up whatever hormone is responsible for adequate fear responses for the day. Or maybe
his games are working on you already, claiming your sanity inch by inch.
You lay there in his arms, and eventually you start to doze. He strokes your hair, a sweet and lulling touch that makes you curl your toes. When those featherlight fingertips find their way to the back of your neck, and the tops of your shoulders, you cannot help but squirm. In your half-asleep state, this is your kryptonite, and your leg tangles with his, your pelvis pressing against his hip. It feels like the most natural thing in the world, to crane your head towards him.
Only when you feel him shift to lean towards you for a kiss, do you realize what you are doing.
You turn your head at the last second, and his grip on you tightens from comforting to bruising in a nanosecond. “Wait—”
He has you on your back before you can blink.
 “Are we still pretending you don’t want me, kitten?”
“I
”
Suddenly his hand is between your legs, manhandling you like he owns you, raking up your thigh to swipe at your folds. He finds you soaking wet with slick, of course, and he makes a point to press your clit with his thick fingers as he withdraws. It sends an agonizing jolt of desire spreading through the cradle of your hips, the ache in your stupid little cunt nigh unbearable. You hardly recognize the keening sound that escapes your mouth.
Was that you?
It worsens ten-fold as you watch him bring his fingers to his lips, sucking them clean. “Tastes like lies to me.”
Goddammit.
“John
”
You can hardly believe it, when he slides off of the bed, leaving you cold and alone, confused and filled with desire. The pulsing ache between your legs drowns out any rational thoughts you might have had a moment ago.
“Little liars don’t get to cum. I’ll let you think about that tonight.”
You feel like you did that night in Italy, watching him walk out the door when all you really want is to feel his thick, insatiable cock teeming inside you.
Which is fucking insane, of course.
And you were thinking he might be the crazy one?
 “Same rules, sweetheart. Don’t you dare touch yourself tonight. I’ll fucking know.”
With one last baleful look over of his shoulder he touches his hand to the lock, and sweeps out of the room. He leaves you stunned on the bed, disheveled and unsure, once again, of what the fuck just happened?
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depravedprincess28 · 5 months
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One of my short stories I like to share sometimes. Enjoy 😊
I open the door to your bedroom, holding some folded laundry for you. The room is dark, except for the light trickling in from the hallway behind me, and you are fast asleep. I set the clothes on your dresser, for you to put away tomorrow. I’m about to leave, when I realize your blankets have fallen off and you are uncovered. Like any good Daddy, I go to tuck you back in.
Standing over your bed, several things catch my attention. Your nightie is pulled up, almost to your sweet little breasts. Your right hand is still tucked into your panties; you have clearly been playing with yourself, and they are visibly soaked. My cock begins to swell as I look at you, envisioning how I might make use of your unconscious body. In your left hand, you have some bunched-up fabric that you were holding up to your face. I suddenly recognize the fabric as my boxers that I was wearing yesterday, and you have been inhaling my scent - a mix of my sweat, and my cum, and traces of my urine. My cock stiffens further as I realize what this means.
“Baby? Sweetheart?” You don’t answer. A moment of hesitation, then a decision. “Fuck it”, I think to myself. I hook my fingers into the waistband of your panties and begin to pull. There is some resistance as they slide between your buttocks and the mattress, then they glide freely down your legs. You mutter something in your sleep, and I freeze, fearing you might wake up. Then you turn your head, and settle back into sleep. I lift the panties to my nose, savoring the scent of your pink pussy, which I now see is hairless and glistening. Glistening, I realize, because of me. Dropping my pants to my ankles, my hand goes to my shaft and begins to stroke.
“Fuck, babygirl, you’re so naughty
 wanting your own daddy to fuck you
” I stand over you, stroking faster and faster. I stare at your wet pussy, and the juices covering your fingers. I look at your sleeping face, and think you have always been my beautiful little girl
 but you have never been more beautiful. My gaze returns once again to your shining wet slit, and I think how easy it would be to get between your legs
 <my hand moves faster> 
 to lie down above you
 <faster>
 to guide the tip of my cock to your virginal entrance
 <almost there>... then to push in and Fuck you. With that thought, my cock erupts, jets of sticky semen landing on your legs, your bare belly, your pussy. I stand over you gasping, as my cock continues to spasm. Finally I pull my pants up. I gather the sheets and blankets, and spread them over you, tucking you in. A gentle kiss on your forehead. “Good night, sweetheart”, I whisper. I shut the door as I leave your room, holding your wet panties under my nose.
Oh fuck that’s so hot đŸ„șđŸ„ș
I can just imagine waking up in the morning with no panties and covered in your cum. I don’t think I’d be able to stop myself from playing with myself while fantasizing about you standing there watching me. I’d even run my fingers through your cum and then suck them clean 🙈
Thanks for sharing your story 😘
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lesbianjudasiscariot · 3 months
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nighty night 😘
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weezuschrust420 · 2 months
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Nighty night tumblr 😘
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papermint-airplane · 1 year
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Bo: Scrub-a-dub-dub, baby in the tub!
Tomeka gets paid maternity leave from the hospital for the next seven days. Unfortunately, working as a line cook at the diner, Bo isn't so lucky. No paternity leave for him!
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But Tomeka enjoyed her one-on-one time with Ayesha.
Thanks to this amazing mod by @olomaya, the baby can now play with the toys on her little playmat. She can also play peek-a-boo with Mommy...
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...and even do tummy time! Although, Ayesha is not really a fan of tummy time. 😅
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Nap time!
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Dinner time!
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Crappin' the diaper the second Daddy walks into the house time!
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Bo: What a day! And to think, we get to do it all over again tomorrow.
Tomeka: đŸ’€
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Nighty night, Stewart-Clary family! 😘
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mrsoharaa · 4 months
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Mentally and spiritually, I’m getting absolutely wrecked and sickenly adored by all of my faves
physically—
.I’m suffering tremendously for it to not actually happening to me.
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johnwickb1tsch · 4 months
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break me, softly
When your ex Jack Traven pays you a late night visit after a tough case, you can’t turn him away. Jack Traven x Fem!Reader ficlet
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warnings: smut. angst. brief mention of hostage situation/death. slight inebriation. fluff. ❀❀❀
For @treedaddymcpuffpuff who whispered in my ear "hey you should watch Speed" and sent me down this rabbit hole (i luv u girl, you're our Keanuverse Guide & Tastemaker!) 😘😘😘 and @scarlettspectra who requested some fluff fic 😘😘😘.
It’s late at night, when you hear the soft knock on your apartment door.  Usually, you wouldn’t dream of answering such a thing–a woman living alone, in this city? You’re not looking to get murdered. But something, some feeling from deep in your gut, pulls you out of bed. You walk on bare feet in just your nightie and look through the peephole. Nothing. 
You know it’s probably a bad idea, but that uneasiness nags at you still. Not that you’re in danger. That someone needs you. You have a sense about that, after so many years as a nurse. Or maybe, you just always have. 
You undo the deadbolts and stick your head out, to see the tall figure of a man retreating down the hall. 
You would know that backside anywhere. Those broad shoulders, that trim waist, those long legs
and by the way he’s walking, you can tell he’s a little drunk. 
“Jack?”
He freezes in his tracks, clearly debating with himself. Probably wondering what the fuck he’s doing here, and if you’ll tell him to go to hell, after the way he pushed you away three months ago after dating for two whole years.
He turns to face you slowly. You can say a lot of things about Officer Jack Traven–but never that he’s a coward. 
“Hey, y/n.” 
It’s the first time you’ve seen him, since the day he shattered your world when he broke things off with you. It feels about precisely like being punched in the gut. He’s still so handsome it hurts; those soulful dark eyes, cheekbones to make a fashion model weep, a manly-man’s jawline softened by such a full, sweet mouth. Immediately, upon looking at that face you still love so well, you know something is wrong. 
“Are you ok?”
He opens his mouth to answer, then closes it. Takes a deep breath, tries again. Nothing. It’s as good as a five page report, to you. To you, who knows his every gesture, his every tell. For all it’s worth, now. 
You already knew, in the back of your mind, that you were still in love with this man. It was like a fine buzzing in your heart you’d managed to push into the background of your day to day. But seeing him again makes it all surge up with a vengeance. You know that being near him again will be like feeding your heart through a paper shredder–slowly. You also know that something terrible must have happened at his work, for him to show up here like this, and so you open the door wider, laying your heart on the sacrificial altar, the way you always do.
“Come on,” you say gently, waving him in. “I’ll take care of you.”
He gives so much of himself, always trying to help everyone else in this big, mean, city. You know he forgets to leave a little fuel in the tank for himself. It’s maybe something the two of you have in common. 
You watch as he fights a war within himself, teetering on the balls of his feet, undecided between staying or leaving. In the end, he takes a step towards you, then another. You try not to read too much into that. He’s just here because he’s drunk and feeling vulnerable. It doesn’t really have anything to do with you. 
You’re not really sure how this will go. Probably he’ll just come sit on your couch with a beer–you still have his favorite in the fridge–and talk a little. Not about what’s actually bothering him. No, heaven forbid. But circular small talk, to get his mind off the bad thing. It’s something you’ve done a thousand times before.
And yet, when you are standing toe to toe, and he has to crane his neck to look down at you–there’s a dark fire in his eyes, and with a little thrill you feel the urge to flee before his big hands engulf the sides of your face, and his mouth is on yours. 
Oh. That’s what you’re doing.
You can’t say you forgot what it’s like to kiss Jack Traven–but maybe the intensity of the memory had faded a little, if for anything out of pure self defense. How could a woman keep her sanity, if she remembered how good he was, if she knew she’d never taste him again? You stand on tiptoe to throw your arms around his neck as he devours you, and he easily picks you up with an arm around your waist, walking the two of you back into your apartment and slamming the door shut with his booted heel.
This. This had never been a problem for the two of you. Passion. It was everything else that got in the way. Most of all, his dangerous job, which though it wore on you, you had never complained about. But he’d seen the way you worried about him, the way it absolutely chewed on your nerves when there was a situation on the news and you didn’t know if he would be coming home that night. You’d been willing to weather that storm for him, but the guilt of demanding that of you ate at his conscience. 
He’d broken things off with you, in your own hospital, after he’d taken a bullet in the chest and you didn’t leave his side or really even sleep until he came to. I can’t ask you to keep doing this for me. You deserve better. 
You’d protested, of course, but he’d made up his mind. 
Until now, apparently, where he is walking you backwards towards your bedroom, half carrying you in the ardor of his embrace. You recognize this need for life-affirming intimacy. You’d gotten to know it well, over the years, and you surrender to the storm, letting him take what he needs. Letting him fist the fabric of your cotton nightie in his big hands, drawing it up over your head before falling on you again, pushing your panties down the curves of your bottom and your thighs. 
You always marveled that despite his strength and the things he knows how to do with those hands, he never ever hurt you, not even when he was like this, desperate for your softness, frantic to lose himself inside the momentary bliss your body could bring. He barely has the patience to let you pull off his white t-shirt, or to enjoy the swathes of toned flesh beneath. His belt is flung forgotten to the floor from the moment you pull it from its loops and he picks you up by your thighs, walking you the rest of the way to the bed. Boots are kicked away as his mouth is attached to yours, pants and boxers shed with a sharp push. 
You might have been embarrassed, by how ready you are for him, how sopping fucking wet you were for him from the moment you saw him,  if you could have formed a coherent thought as his thick tip kisses your entrance, before he absolutely plunges himself inside you. The delicious shock of it steals the breath from you, your soul escaping with a moan, only to be reclaimed with his mouth on yours. He takes you like the ocean, relentless and rolling, filling you with every thrust. It’s gratifying, the animalistic sounds of abandon he makes as he fucks you. If you didn’t know any better–you might have swore you were making love, despite his hedonistic frenzy.  
The same way you knew something was wrong in the first second of seeing him in the hallway, you know he’s close to finishing already, his breathing frantic in the bend of your neck, his grip just this side of bruising. He seems to remember that he’s done very little to see to your pleasure, amidst the haze of chasing his own gratification. He sits up on trembling elbows, making to reach between you. “Fuck. I’m sorry, baby. You feel so good.” Maybe it’s ridiculous, that it brings tears to your eyes to hear the endearment. You find you don’t even want to cum, as much as you just want to make this haunted man feel better. 
“It’s ok,” you pant in answer, catching his hand to place it on your breast. “Cum for me, Jack. I know you need it.” 
He buries his face in the bend of your neck; you’re not sure if the sound he makes is a moan or a sob, as he thrusts as deep as he can inside you, bathing your cervix with the hot flood of his seed. He continues to hold on to you as though you are the last sane thing on this earth, and you let him, your legs still wrapped around his narrow hips, your hands smoothing across the muscles of his broad shoulders. 
Only much, much later, does it seem to dawn on him what he’s done–and maybe just who he did it with. He draws back to look at you with concern written in those big brown puppy eyes, smoothing your hair away from your face. You can’t help but close your own lids; jesus, how you missed his touch. You feel utterly breakable in that moment, but he’s the one who needs healing right now, so you get your shit together, gather it all back up tight and shove it down in your lockbox of a heart. 
Before he can apologize or say something stupid, you pull him down to rest on your breast, the way you’ve done a hundred times before. Surely the muscle memory of it is as comforting for him as the act in the moment itself. “It’s ok, Jack. Just rest. I’ve got you.” 
He sags against you, curling that powerful body around yours–and falls asleep. 
You were right, of course. Your heart feels exactly like it’s been fed through a grinder, as you hold this beautiful manchild in your arms, your thighs deliciously sticky with his cum. A part of you hopes that he’ll just sneak out in the morning without waking you. It would almost hurt less, than any excuse he’ll have to offer you, when the sun comes streaming through your window. 
***
But when next you wake, it’s not to the sun, or the shift of weight on the mattress while a large man tries to slip out without a sound. It’s to wet kisses upon your neck, and an agonizingly gentle touch sliding down your torso, tracing the ladder of your ribcage and the swell of your belly, before making his way up again. 
“You know,” he says softly against your cheek, “you really shouldn’t open the door to anyone in the middle of the night.” 
You wonder if he can see you rolling your eyes in the dark. But then his lips touch yours, and the urge to argue with him for argument’s sake dissipates into thin air. Instead you opt for honesty, the spell of intimacy not yet broken in the shadows of what must be early early morning. 
“I think
I knew it was you.” 
He lets out a shuddering sigh, kissing your jaw, then lower. 
“Baby
” It feels so good, to hear him say it like that against your skin. You can almost forget it isn’t true anymore. You’re not his baby. You’re not his anything, even though he’s here in your bed, and his big hand is sliding down your belly again, his fingers combing through your curls. “Let me touch you?”
You really should say no. 
“You don’t have to.” 
He ducks to suck the soft skin of your breast lightly, then kisses it to soothe the burn. That luscious mouth
god it curls your toes. “I want to. I promise you.”
There’s so much you want to ask him. Things like why? And I thought you didn’t love me anymore? You’ve since reasoned that it’s the only way he could truly bear to break things off, the way he did. You certainly hadn’t had the strength to give him up, no matter what the stress of his occupation wreaked on you. 
You don’t have the strength to say no. You do manage not to beg, like the needy little thing you are, with his big body curled over yours. You’ve always felt like nothing could touch you, with him by your side. As it turned out the only thing that could hurt you all along, was him. 
You nod your assent before catching his mouth, sliding your tongue against his as his thick fingers explore your puffy slit, still wet from both of your juices. He makes a sound in the back of his throat that lifts every hair on your body, a delicious shudder running through your spine. His strong fingers circle your aching clit, just the way he knows drives you wild. Not too hard, not too soft. Fuck, this man has your number still.  
You haven’t been with anyone, since the last time you were with him, despite your well-meaning girlfriends dragging you out to bars and trying to get you to forget this man who left your heart shredded like bomb shrapnel. Because deep down, you knew, you just knew this man ruined you, utterly fucking ruined you for anyone else. Who the fuck could compare? Not some asshole hoping for a one night stand down at TJ’s, that was for sure. 
You realize you have tears running down your cheeks, you don’t know how it’s possible for it to be so good and hurt so much all at the same time. 
Unfortunately when he moves to kiss your cheek, he notices. “Hey, hey,” he says, his hand stilling between your legs, making your hips writhe with frustration. “You ok?”
“No,” you answer honestly, reaching for him. He has you cradled in those big arms, and  you can feel his manhood so firm and silky smooth against your hip. You are not ok, without him inside you right now. “Will you make love to me again?” 
He pays you a ghost of that usual blinding smile, a thing a woman would sell her soul for, and it just breaks your heart all over again. 
He never really answers you with words. The two of you move with pure magnetism, your leg hooking over his hip, pulling him close, inviting him inside. Without a condom, again, you think as he settles between your thighs, sinking inside you so smoothly. Maybe not smart, even though you're on birth control, but it’s the way you’re meant to be together, raw and no barriers between you. As usual, he fucks you and makes love to you all at the same time, looking into your soul while he does it, and it’s the best thing you’ve ever known. This time you cum together, and maybe it’s a little pathetic, the way you cling to each other in the darkness of your bedroom, like you really can stave off the misery of the outside world with this bit of human intimacy, your bodies inextricably entwined. 
You fall asleep together, this time with your head on his chest, and as you drift you decide you’ll wake up and make him breakfast, and you won’t ask him any painful questions about what this means or if he wants you back, or if this is just a comfort fuck and you won’t see him again until the weight of the world gets too much–or maybe never, because this man is bound to find someone to settle down with. Someone he can’t bring himself to let go, the way he did you. 
So you are so surprised, when you wake up, and you smell eggs and bacon and something sweet cooking. You stumble into the kitchen to find him in his blue plaid boxers, flipping a pancake, singing under his breath to R.E.M. on the radio playing low. He’s so beautiful it hurts, and it’s like your heart is gripped in an unforgiving fist. 
He turns to see you in the doorway and offers you a smile. It’s still not quite the usual 100 watt Jack Traven special–he’s not feeling well enough for that. This man hides nothing, he’s so true, he wears it all on his sleeve for you. You love that so much about him, and it hurts like a knife between the ribs. 
“Hey.” 
“Hey.” 
“Hungry?” 
“Yeah.” 
You shouldn’t feel so shy about walking into your own kitchen. 
But you aren’t sure where you stand. Do you kiss him, hug him, the way you want to, the way you used to? Or are you operating under one-night-stand-protocol? Play it cool, act like you barely even like the guy? It’s so fucked up, and you never wanted to be in this position again. 
Sensing your hesitance, he crosses the floor to you, engulfing the side of your face in his big hand as he kisses you good morning, like nothing ever changed. “Hey,” he says again, his forehead pressed to yours. 
“Jack.” 
“Yeah, baby.” 
You told yourself you weren’t going to ask painful questions. Remember? Remember that? So you just sigh, and close your eyes, and absorb this moment for what it is. “Do you feel better?” you ask. Another important question. 
“Yes and no.” 
You sigh again through your nose. The corners of his mouth twitch, because he knows you so well, and that one little gesture conveys a novel to him too. 
“Thank you,” he says, for last night, and whatever else, you don’t really know.
“Any time.” You mean it, when you say it. 
“Yeah?” There is a hint of his usual sparkle in his eyes as he asks this. And a part of you wants to pick a fight, to say I’m not the one who left. But maybe you have grown up a little, because you bite your tongue for now. 
“Yeah.” You reach up to touch his hair, the soft spikes of his buzzcut like velvet beneath your fingers. You know he would have beautiful hair if he grew it out. You’d seen his high-school pictures. He had the potential for hair to make a grown woman weep. 
Later, with your mouth full of pancake, you ask gently, “Do you want to talk about it?”
He flexes his jaw, looking out the window. He always bottled things up, before. He didn’t want to burden you with the hard things he saw at work. You didn’t want him to carry it alone. Usually you had to pry it out of him, because of course he refused to see the shrink at work. 
You realize you are gobsmack surprised when he actually volunteers, “We had a hostage situation. A woman
died. The bank robber shot her. It was my fault.”
“It wasn’t your fault, sweetheart. It was the criminal’s fault. He brought a gun to a bank with the intention to steal money by any means necessary. You did your best.”
Once upon a time, he would have argued with you on that too. His jaw clenches as he thinks about it, argues with you in his mind, at least. 
But this time in the end, he closes his eyes, nods. Reaches for your hand across the table. You take it, holding on to him. Those warm, strong fingers wrapped around yours feel like home, and you try not to start crying because you’ve missed him so much. 
“Y/n
?”
“Yeah?”
“I’m sorry. For pushing you away.”
Once upon a time, you would have said something inane, like that’s ok. You’ve grown as a person too, and this time, you nod, because he does owe you an apology. “Thanks for that.” 
“I know
I don’t deserve it. But maybe
if you’d let me
I could make it up to you?”
You close your eyes at hearing that, light headed. You might have fallen out of your chair, if not for his hand anchoring you. 
“I would like that,” you admit, giving yourself points for not sounding too pathetic, and crawling across the table through the breakfast dishes to sit in his lap. 
Then, he does flash you the 1000 watt Jack Traven smile, and the circuits in your brain melt. 
“Yeah?”
“Yeah, you big idiot.” You’re really not sure if he pulls you, or if you get up and walk, but you find yourself in his lap with your lips on his, his strong arms wrapped around you and his lips on yours. He rocks you like a child, smiling against your mouth between stealing kisses.  
“I love you.”
You feel as though the desert of your heart has suddenly undergone a superbloom, the ferocity of your love making you lightheaded.
“Jack
”
“Yeah?” He really is smiling now, in between kissing you, cute little snatches of sweetness all over your face. With hands on his cheeks you catch his lips, smiling against his mouth after a long smooch. 
“I love you too. But if you ever break up with me for any reason other than you don’t love me anymore, I might maim you.”
This wins you that radiant smile that curls your toes again. “So much for the Florence Nightingale oath.”
“Leave her out of it, this is between you and me.” He chuckles, and squeezes you again in his big arms.
“Alright. Consider me warned.”
“Good.”
His big hand runs up your thigh, that dark sparkle in his eyes that never fails to take your breath away. “I feel like I should start that making up I have to do here.” Suddenly you find yourself seated on your kitchen table, Jack smiling up at you from between your legs. He reaches for the syrup, and you can’t help but throw your head back with laughter, certain he’s teasing you. “You are going to make such a mess!”
“Honey, you’re the one going to be making the mess.” He has the nerve to smirk up at you before stealing your panties, and smearing syrup up your thighs.
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yadaddy94 · 1 year
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Nighty night 😘
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theempressar · 8 months
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IMMORTAL COMBATđŸŽ¶đŸŽ¶
(techno music starts) <---Nope... wrong movie đŸ€Ș👍
Immortal Combat -1994
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He ACTUALLY PUTS him in a SLEEPER HOLD!! And then proceeds to say: NIGHTY NIGHT!! I love this man 😍😍😍
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The love interest! She wasn't too bad! One tough chickie...AND: No sex scene, no obligatory boob shots and NOT EVEN A KISS OH EM GEE!! apart from the no kiss...they were pretty romantic together...it was SWEET 😘
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I could cap this beautiful man ALL DAY!! I think I willđŸ€ȘđŸ˜đŸ‘đŸ”„đŸ€Ÿ
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jadeylovesmarvelxo · 2 years
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I put a spell on you đŸ’«đŸ’«
I have a fun one!! I ABSOLUTLY love the Steddie x female reader that you write for me so, could I have a Steddie x female reader where the reader is dressed as a witch and is handing out candy to the kids that come by before she turns the lights off at about 9pm and stays in her costume but cuddles with her boyfriends as they watch scary movies and Eddie mocks the movies and will hold both Steve and y/n and tell say that he will protect them. Just fluffy shenanigans insue
Warnings; None really, fluff, Eddie is protective, tiny hint of spice at the end.
😘 Likes or reblogs are always appreciated ❀ @wonderinghawkinsindiana 💞 I hope you like this.
🎃🍁
This Halloween was the first one that she, Eddie and Steve were celebrating while living together for the first time.
It was so exciting and yn had fun decorating the place with fake spider webs, pumpkin string lights and scented candles in Spiced Pumpkin, Sweet Apples and Crisp Leaves scent.
She was dressed up as a witch.
"You're the sexiest witch I've ever seen sweetheart". Eddie tells her as Steve helps her zip the black dress she bought for the occasion.
"I concur". Steve murmurs and kisses her forehead then walks over to Eddie and she watches happily as they share a kiss too.
Eddie has dressed up as a vampire and Steve had decided to go as a werewolf. All she knew is that they were the sexiest Vampire and Werewolf she had ever seen.
Trick or treaters line up to visit and she has so much fun handing out candy to them, Eddie and Steve are great with the kids too.
They lock up around nine and settle down for the night.
For the rest of the night, she plans on relaxing and watching a movie with her boyfriends.
Steve is currently making some food for them, a really nice pasta dish recipe that her mother gave him when he expressed an interest in cooking.
Meanwhile, she helps Eddie makes some hot chocolate and plates up some brownies she made earlier.
Then they cuddle up in bed and put on scary movies.
Eddie takes great delight in announcing to her and Steve that he would protect them from any of the villains in the movies.
Even Michael Myers.
"I don't care how strong or unkillable they are I'd protect you both always" Eddie says as he holds and Steve close.
"Look at this idiot, why do they run up the stairs instead of going out the front door?" She exchanges looks with Steve while Eddie mocks the movies.
It's so sweet he's being protective and they let him finish his rants.
After a while, she is itching to get changed into some nightwear so she finds the silk nightie that is Eddie and Steve's favourite.
Then when she heads back to their room Steve's eyes light up and Eddie stops talking mid rant and gawks at her.
Y/n -1
🎃🍁
Horror movies- 0
"Instead of worrying about what you would do in horror movies baby why don't both of you do me instead?"
With those words, Eddie and Steve leap into action and pepper her with kisses, guiding her to bed.
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hysteria-things · 5 months
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Alright well I’m heading to bed now good night guys
-đŸŠ·
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nighty night thank you for the fic😘
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riddle-me-ri · 2 years
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Okay I got a request (which you don’t have to write) but um
could you maybe possibly write a little fic for the Holiday season?
I saw your reblog of BTAS Eddie in his Santa suit and now I kinda want a smut fic with him in his Santa suit.
Do with this information what you will. 😘😂💚
A/N: asdfghj ok anon same brain same brain. Cause every time I see more panels of him in the Santa suit my mind goes brrrr lmao. Thank you, anon for indulging me without even realizing it 💚 plus I'm always down bad to write about my husband. I hope you enjoy, this is my first time back into smut after my wee break and so sorry for the abrupt ending I wasn't sure how to end it rip

Trigger Warning:  Explicit Sexual Content (cock-warming, piv intercourse (reader is gn but has breasts and a vagina), roleplaying?, human furniture? Kinda sorta
I dunno I’m trying some new ideas here rip help), dirty talk, and denial
Word Count: 1.2 k
BTAS Riddler x Reader - Nicely Naughty
You were in your bathroom brushing your teeth. Ready to call it a night in your green chemise nightie, when you heard the front door open to your apartment. 
You walked down the hallway to the door. "Eddie?" You called out. 
"Hmm
not quite, darling." A deep voice answered back. 
You quirked your eyebrow as you rounded the corner. Despite speaking lower, you could still tell it was your Ed. 
"Eddie what are you
oohh." A sly smile grew across your face as you took in the sight before you.
"Good evening, my dear
I see you're still awake." Edward greets in a low hearty voice, tipping an iconic Santa hat at you. 
You walk over to him, taking in his rich red suit and leather belt. When you got up to Ed, you tucked your fingers into the belt and pulled him closer to you. 
"Where'd you find this?" You asked in a sweet whisper.
Something about the way you looked at him and spoke
made Eddie drop the voice. "Wasn't particularly hard to find, and I remember you saying something about me being dastardly handsome in red.."
"And I was right." You leaned back to take another once over.
"So
Mr
?"
"You may still refer to me as Riddler
" Ed smirked. "While ol' Kris Kringle rewards the good little boys and girls
I, The Riddler, test them to see if they truly deserve to be on the nice list."
You gasped. "You don't think I've been nice, Mr. Riddler?" 
Edward tsked. "Afraid not darling, in fact
" He leans beside your face. His lips centimeters from your ear. "...you've been the naughtiest of them all
" 
You giggled as the sensation of his breath on your ear tickled. "It's not my fault, Mr. Riddler
my husband's insatiable!" 
"Now, now, shifting blame won't do you any good
even if it's partially true." 
You cross your arms in feign defiance. "What can I do to get on your nice list..Mr. Riddler?" You asked, feigning innocence. 
Edward put his hand to his chin, tapping it, as if actually thinking of a solution he didn't already have. 
"I have one idea, my dear
" 
~~~~~~~~~~~~~~
This was absolute torture. 
Some kind of sweet surprise this turned out to be. 
You were straddling Edward's lap, backwards and naked. His cock comfortably nestled inside of you as you try your best not to squirm for friction or squeeze your walls for pressure. 
Meanwhile, Riddler was painstakingly writing his so-called "naughty or nice" list on your back. 
Ed pinched your back or started from the top of your back with his list every time you shifted. 
You were slowly but surely losing what was left of your nerves. Hours have crept on by, what was probably more like thirty minutes. 
B-A-T-M-A-N and then a line across it. 
R-O-B-I-N and then another line through it. 
You swear, you could actually feel the lines of his fingers on your skin with how repetitive and consistent his touch was along your back. 
He continued to write a couple more names, now more towards familiar colleagues

S-C-A-R-E-C-R-O-W and a little checkmark. 
You bit your lip, trying to refrain from whining or mewling
or else that will cause him to start all over again. 
M-A-D. A pause. H-A-T-T-E-R. A checkmark. 
"You're doing so good for me, darling
you'll make The Nice List just in time for Christmas." 
H-A-R-L-E-Y. A pause. Q-U-I-N-N. A checkmark. 
You cared less about some damn list and more about getting off. 
Edward placed his head along your shoulder, nestled against the side of yours. He began planting small sweet kisses along your shoulder and up your neck. 
You couldn't take it anymore. The knot in the bottom of your gut was churning. Waiting for something to happen. 
"E-eddie
" You breathlessly muttered. 
Ed groaned. "Yes, darling?"
"P-Please
baby
I-I can't ah-" 
Edward took his index finger and poked his nail into your skin. He dragged his fingernail lightly across your back. 
Familiar letters he wrote into your skin
in your lust filled haze you were able to make out the letters of your name. Along with miniscule little drawings of hearts beside it. 
He whispered in a husky tone. "You've done well, I'm impressed, dearest." 
Edward pinned your wrists, that were keeping you steady on the bed, to your back. He held your wrists down against your back with your arms crossed. 
He kissed your cheek. "Time for your present
" 
Before you could think of a response, he started thrusting deep inside you, deeper than you thought he could get. 
You were a moaning and panting mess. Trying to keep up with his almost maniac pace. You felt weak against him, with no way to support yourself having your arms restricted. You were completely and utterly at his mercy. 
You tried to grind yourself down onto him and meet him whenever he thrusted fully inside of you, trying to get some kind of instance of control or more friction between you two. 
The build-up, the teasing; the torturous feeling of being filled but not fulfilled
it was all too much. 
"E-E-Eddie
Eddie
ffff please, please don't stop.." 
He didn't stop but he did slow down, in order for his brain to compute a response. 
"I-I
hah
c-could never
" Ed panted. As he let your arms go, they fell to the side as you began to regain feeling in them again. "F-feel so good
dear." 
Edward steadily grew his pace back up again. You were practically bouncing on top of him at this point. One of your hands went up to the back of his head, to pull him closer to you. His teeth latched onto the apex of your neck and shoulder as he kept bucking into you like an animal. 
Your other hand traveled down to your flared and sensitive bundle of nerves just below your Mound. You began frantically but carelessly swiping your fingers across your clit. Searching for that precipice of pleasure that's been bubbling since you first sat on his cock. 
You were so busy chasing your climax. You barely felt a pair of slender fingers brushing your hand to the side and replacing your sloppy motions with more concise and controlled rotations around your clit. 
Nothing could stop the small whimpers, cries, and moans that poured out of you. 
A complete cacophony of your desires from filling up the room. You were somehow able to also make out Edward's erotic grunts and huffs as he keeps his relentless pace, making your walls squeeze him that much tighter each time. 
"E-Ed-Eddie
" Your pants became silent cries as you finally reached your climax. 
Your walls choked Edward's cock as your tightened walls finally caused him to cum as well. Milking his load for all it's worth. 
Ed's hands came up to your legs and up to your arms and back down again, in order to calm the physically pleasurable quakes all along every limb of your body and atom of nerves. 
You leaned your body back into his, exhausted but finally satisfied with the relief you were desperate for mere hours ago. 
Edward chuckled softly at your exhausted state. He pecked your temple as he leaned you both back into the mattress of your bed. 
"I must really look good in red, hm?" 
You snickered softly. "Eddie, you look good in anything
but I'll always prefer you in nothing." You smirked as you leaned deeper into his chest before slowly dozing off.
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sweet-slut · 1 year
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Good night sweetie 😘 another night squeezing blankets? 💖
Hehe maybe...nighty xx
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kamiversee · 6 months
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OOOH THAT SNEAK PEAK LOOKING GOODDDD WHATTT😍😍😍 #Ilovegojo4LYFE
ANYWAY GN KAMIIIIIII U DID A GR8 JOB TODAY!!!đŸ˜đŸ˜đŸ˜đŸ˜˜đŸ˜˜â€Œïžâ€Œïž
-🍓
😅
NIGHTY NIGHT
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