#and it ain't lettin go

[the-nightmares-never-end]

I can't stop listening to this

So I got a friend to listen to it

And now he's trapped too

He's now targeting one of our friends

And trying to get her to listen to it

What have I done

[tenebriism]

Fellas, is it GAY to think your best friend is the most gorgeous person in existence? Contested by NONE? Absolutely, positively RADIANT beyond fathom?

[phantomuheist]

@guildofthieves said: “You don’t have the Akechi fanboy disease?” Akechi inquired, pouting a little as he seemed a bit hurt but knew it was merely a jest.

Well now, he felt a little guilty for saying that, not knowing that he was listening.

"D-don't guilt-trip me like that... just because we're dating doesn't give you that right." He pinched his cheek and wrapped his arms around him. "I'm not an obsessive fanboy like some people, but... you know I love you, right?" He smiled. He was cute pouting like that.

[kindacreepy-kindaugly]

nothing ever changes I'm so fucking tired of being this way

[strangersteddierthings]

Made With Love

It takes one bite for Eddie to suspect he's done something wrong. A second bite confirms it. He's fucked up somehow and cannot for the life of him remember what it was.

Did he miss an important date of some sort? It couldn't have been their anniversary because that's August 13th (Eddie's new favorite day of the year, for obvious reasons). He absolutely didn't miss Steve's birthday. Not with how long he and Robin had spent planning the damn thing. (Eddie is never throwing another surprise party in his life; the stress of secret keeping was too much to bear.)

... Did he miss Robin's birthday?

No. That can't be. Steve would never let him miss that.

It could be one of the Party's birthdays, but Eddie doesn't think that's a transgression that would warrant this.

This, of course, being his peanut butter and jelly sandwich.

"What, your peanut butter's gone bad?"

Eddie lifts his eyes from the proof of Steve's anger at him to his coworker, Charlie, sitting across the table from him in the closet that Thatcher claims is the break room. "No. It's much worse than that, I'm afraid."

"Well, don't keep me in suspense," Charlie deadpans.

"This sandwich wasn't made with love," Eddie whines, looking back at the sandwich with as much sorrow as he can muster. He sets the sandwich down on the baggy he had pulled it out of so that he can frown down at it without having to touch the offending creation.

"Ah shit," Charlie says, voice filled with empathy. This is why he's Eddie's favorite coworker. He gets it. Possibly because he's the only person who's tasted the difference for himself, back when Eddie'd just started at Thatcher Tires. "What'd'ya do?"

"I don't know!" Eddie wails. "Everything was fine when I left this morning, or I thought it was anyway."

"Ain't your misses pretty good at lettin' you know you done fucked up?" Charlie, like the best coworker that he is, looks surprised that Eddie doesn't know what he's done. He's right, too. Steve is the goddamn king of petty, and Eddie has never struggled to know when Steve's mad at him. The struggle usually comes from Eddie refusing to be in the wrong.

(That's not to say that Eddie is always in the wrong. He's not. Sure, a good percent of their arguments Eddie is the one at fault and he's mature enough to admit so once the argument is over, but it's not always his fault.)

Anyway, the point is, regardless of who's at fault, Steve is angry at him about something and for the first time in months Eddie doesn't know what for. They'd promised each other, after their first very big fight that almost ended in a breakup and was over a misunderstanding, that they would tell each other why they're mad or upset or feeling some type of way. So for Eddie to not know...

He thinks he might have fucked up big time.

"I know!" Eddie cries, shoving the sandwich away from him to make room to drop his forehead onto the table, then turns to smoosh his cheek against the table so he can look at Charlie. "Charlie. Charlie what do I do?"

Charlie blows out a long breath, thinking, before he gives a decisive nod and says, "you gotta beg forgiveness."

Eddie knows Charlie's right. He doesn't know what he did but he's going to beg forgiveness anyway.

Which is how he now finds himself in the small floral section of the grocery store looking over the sad, wilted bouquets after work. His arms are already full with Steve's favorite ice cream, candies, an over-priced little blue teddy bear that's holding an 'It's A Boy!' card that Eddie plans to rip off, and a blank card with a painting of sunflowers on it that he plans to wax poetry about Steve inside.

The final part of his groveling is, of course, the flowers. It's the wrong season for sunflowers, so Eddie was going to settle for roses. It's just that these roses are all sad looking. They don't really scream 'I Love You More Than Anything Else In The World, Please Forgive Me For What I've Done' though.

Let it never be said that Eddie doesn't know how to beg forgiveness.

He ends up picking the least wilted looking bouquet, one with white and yellow flowers he can't name.

The cashier is an older lady who takes quick catalogue of his items and asks, "is it your anniversary, darling? Or, oh!" She picks up the blue bear and Eddie feels his ear heating with embarrassment as she coos, "are you expecting? How exciting!"

"Err, no, not, uh, no. It's just blue is hi-her favorite color, so I was planning to just cut off the little card," Eddie stutters out the lie. Blue isn't Steve's favorite color but Eddie's used to making up many little lies when talking to strangers. Being hate-crimed is not a passion of Eddie's. "I, uh, messed up. And I don't know what I did, but I'm going to make it right."

The lady smiles at him and gives him a firm nod as she scans the items. "Smart boy. I'm sure she'll forgive you."

Eddie gives her a smile he hopes isn't as tight-lipped as it feels on his face.

Back in the safety of his van, Eddie roots around until he finds a pen and gets to writing all the things he loves about Steve in the card and all the things he hopes they'll get to have in the future. Nothing they haven't spoken about before, but it still makes Eddie a little emotional writing it all down.

Once he's done writing, he pulls his pocket knife out and cuts off the 'It's A Boy' card from the bear, crumpling it up and tossing it in the back of the van to be forgotten. He shoves the sunflower card in it's place. His card is a bit wider than the previous one here so it stays in place, albeit precariously. He'll be careful handing it over to Steve.

He knows that Steve is at home already. Steve's always home first because he's off work at four compared to Eddie getting off work around five.

Well. Closer to five-thirty today with his stop at the grocery store. He really hopes that whatever has Steve mad at him isn't time related. Being late home without calling might earn him no favors if it's a time-based blunder.

Steve is in the kitchen, back to the door since he's facing the stove, as Eddie expected he might be. Which means that Eddie doesn't get to lay out all his Items of Forgiveness across the counter like he had hoped but that's okay. If the love of his life has chosen to forgive him, he knows Steve will be just as overjoyed to rifling through a bag of goodies as he would to pick them off the counter.

"Hi sweetheart," Eddie says, words oozing with adoration and sweetness.

"Hi baby," Steve's tone matches Eddie's, like an instinct to match Eddie's energy has written itself into Steve's DNA. And it might have. Eddie knows the reverse is true.

Steve turns from the stove, then, and his face lights up with delight and surprise. "What's all this?"

"Your favorite things, because I love you," Eddie says, raising his arms a bit. The grocery bag is looped over his wrist with flowers in one hand and the bear in the other.

Steve looks positively smitten.

Eddie is nailing this apology that isn't an apology. And let it be known; he cannot say he's sorry. It'll ruin everything. Because Steve, his wonderful, beautiful, kind and loving Stevie, will cock one perfect little caterpillar eyebrow and ask if Eddie knows what he's apologizing for, and Eddie will have to say he doesn't know and that isn't something he's willing to do. Especially not when it's looking like whatever Steve was mad about has completely slipped Steve's mind, too.

"I got your favorite ice cream, too, so we might want to get that into the freezer," Eddie says, passing the bear and card to Steve and shimmying around him to get to the freezer.

He lays the flowers on the counter and sets to emptying the bag. Ice cream in the freezer and goodies on the counter, while Steve reads the card silently behind him.

He knows he's successfully made up for whatever it was he had done, because Steve crowds him against the fridge shortly after setting the card down and turning the stove burner off, kissing him breathless.

Eddie even gets desert before dinner, with Steve all but dragging him to their bedroom.

-

The reddit post that inspired this -

[rowarn]

afab!reader, gn!reader, simons a fighter, protective!simon, blood mention, fingering, lil bit of mean!simon for flavor <3 MDNI

simon riley is by all means a "do what you want, i can fight" kind of man. and fight he will. simon will go to the ends of the earth to protect you. and that's always been incredibly hot to you. you'd never had a man so eager to defend you.

especially to the point that simon was. more than once he'd come away from a fight with bloody knuckles and a split lip. 

that's exactly how he looked now, but he also sported a cut across his eyebrow as well. the guy he'd beaten in the alleyway looked much worse, but he got a few good hits in. 

all you knew was that he said some revolting things about you that simon happened to overhear. simon refused to tell you specifics, citing that you didn't need to hear something like that. 

you both had gone home quickly after that. but the sight of simon all beat up, knuckles split and bruised from the force he'd used to beat the man had something stirring in your stomach. butterflies. 

as you cleaned his cuts and wiped away any blood that stained his skin, you could feel the wetness growing in your panties. you clenched your thighs and shifted as that began to uncomfortably stick to your pussy. 

simon, always attentive, noticed right away. his pretty, brown eyes lit up in interest, a brow raised as he watched you shift on your feet. 

"something wrong?" he asked, as if he couldn't tell what was going on. 

"n-nothing, si," you responded sheepishly, tossing the bloody gauze into the garbage can before stepping away. 

simon doesn't let you get very far before his arms are wrapping around your waist, pulling you back into his chest. you can feel the heat radiating off of him and feel how his heart pounds on his chest against your back. craning your neck, you look up at him. 

"ain't nothin'," he says, voice low and quiet, "and i'm not lettin' you walk out of here with that pretty pussy drippin'.''

you swallow around the lump in your throat as he says it. he wraps his big hands around your waist and moves them downwards, slipping under your shirt and pawing at the hem of your sweatpants. he dips his head down so he can kiss along your neck, practically purring when you sink into him. 

he takes the opportunity to slip his fingers under your panties, thick fingers prying your pillowy lips apart. you adjust your stance, leaning back against him for support as you spread your legs a little more so he can slip his fingers further down.

first he glides over your clit, pausing to stroke and roll the tender little bud under his fingers. your whole body twitched at that, trembling hands reaching to grip onto the fabric of his hoodie. your head fell back against his chest, giving him more access to your neck. 

his fingers dip lower, finding your entrance, slick and drooling all over the digits as he strokes back and forth, teasing you with their presence. 

"tell me," his voice vibrates in his chest, deep and low, "what's got you this wet?"

"mmm, d-dunno, si," you lie right through your teeth at him. 

he hums, pulling his fingers away from your sweet little hole to go back to your clit, pinching the bud. you whimper at the feeling, hips rabbing back to get away from the little pain, "you're lyin'. i want you to tell me the truth. what has this pretty little cunt all wet?"

"simon..." you whine. he knows you don't want the embarrassment that comes from the confession but he teases it out of you anyway, "y-you got me wet, si!"

"me?" he grins, wolfish and predatory, "i didn't do anything, love,"

you whine, rocking your hips forward. he took some mercy on you and slowly sunk one, long, finger into the tight clutch of your cunt. the stretch wasn't enough, he knew that, you'd become so accustomed to the fat girth of his cock that one single finger would never be enough to satisfy you now. he'd ruined you. 

"y-you beat that-that guy up for me..." you finally manage to squeeze out of your dry throat, "'s hot..."

he scoffs as if he didn't already know that that was the reason, "you like me beatin' some bastards head in for you?" you nod, sighing in pleasure when he rewards your with a second finger, "you're fuckin' filthy. you think he'd be happy to hear that it turns you on?"

"don't care about him," you quickly answer. 

his grin broadens, "that's the right fuckin' answer, love."

he finally gives you the third and final finger. you keen when he stretches you open on those digits, curling them just right to hit that gooey, spongey little spot inside you. his palm curls around your pelvic bone so the heel of his hand grinds against your clit just how you need to cum nice and hard for him. 

he works his fingers slow and deep, making sure to hit that spot every time he stuffs his fingers back inside you. his other hand comes up, wrapping around your throat to pin your against his chest. you moan freely, clawing at his tattooed arm desperately as you rock your hips against his hand. 

he can hear the wet, slick sounds of him fucking your precious little cunt open. you work your clit feverishly against his hand, helping yourself along to the high you so deserve. you're dripping down his fingers, making a mess of him and yourself but you don't care. 

"'m gonna cum!" you needlessly warn him.

"i know," he grumbles, tilting your head up so he can press his lips against yours, hand still firmly wrapped around your throat. 

he sees your eyes roll back before you melt into the kiss, your orgasm washing over you. he groans when he feels you squeezing and clenching around his fingers, pathetically humping against his hand to work your clit even harder. he slowly strokes that spongey little spot to help ease you through your high. you tremble and clutching desperately at his arm as you start to come down, whimper and panting into his mouth before he lets you pull away. a string of spit connects your lips and you look completely dazed as you gaze up at him. 

he always did enjoy the way a good orgasm had you looking all dumb and pliant for him. 

he pulls his fingers out of your panties and you whine at the loss, watching him bring those cum-covered fingers up to your face. you could see the way the bruises and splits in his knuckles were covered in your cum and had to hold back to keep from moaning at the sight. 

he popped them into his mouth, sighing at the taste of your sweet cum on his tongue. 

before you knew it, he was breezing past you out of the bathroom and down to the living room, no doubt on the hunt for something to eat. 

"simon!" you called petulantly. 

you heard him laugh from the living room, "what?"

"you aren't gonna fuck me?" you complain, feeling heat flood your cheeks when he laughs again.

"dunno, love," his tone is teasing, "we'll see."

ugh. he could be so generous one second and mean the next </3

mwah here is some food my beloveds

[littlelamy]

cowboy!rafe x farmer's!daughter!reader

a/n: cowboy!rafe x !reader inspired by rafecameroninterlude <3

the cicadas hummed in the background, their steady rhythm mingling with the soft rustling of leaves in the evening breeze. rafe's hand slid from your hip to the small of your back, his touch possessive as he held you close, the warmth of his body seeping into yours. you could feel the rough calluses on his fingers, a testament to his hard work on the ranch, and it sent a shiver down your spine.

"y/n," he murmured against your lips, his voice low and filled with a need that mirrored your own. "i can't keep sneakin' around like this. it ain't right, keepin' you a secret."

you looked up into those piercing blue eyes of his, the ones that always saw right through you, straight to your heart. "i don't care 'bout whats right, rafe. I care about you," you whispered, your voice trembling with the intensity of your feelings. "nobody gonna keep me from you."

he groaned softly, his forehead resting against yours as he struggled with the weight of your words. "you don't know what you're sayin', baby. if your daddy found out… if my old man got wind of this… they'd tear us apart."

you shook your head, the stubborn streak in you flaring up. "let 'em try. I ain't scared of 'em. you’re worth the fight, rafe. i'd go to war for you."

rafe let out a shaky breath, his hand coming up to cradle your face, his thumb brushing over your cheek with a tenderness that made your heart ache. "you're somethin' else, y/n. ain’t no woman ever made me feel like this."

you leaned into his touch, feeling the world fade away until it was just the two of you, standing at the edge of everything. you felt his breath hitch as you pressed a kiss to the corner of his mouth, then another, your lips trailing down to his jaw, tasting the salt of his skin.

he pulled you tighter against him, his hand sliding up your back, fingers tangling in your hair as he tilted your head to capture your lips once more. this kiss was different—slower, deeper—like he was trying to memorize the feel of you, the way you fit so perfectly against him.

his other hand slipped down to your thigh, lifting you slightly as he backed you up against the rough bark of the oak tree. the sensation of the hard wood against your back and the solid strength of rafe’s body against your front was dizzying, intoxicating. you let out a soft moan as his lips moved to your neck, trailing hot kisses along your skin, making you arch into him, desperate for more.

"rafe…" you breathed, your fingers digging into his shoulders as you lost yourself in the moment, in the heat that surged between you. the world outside ceased to exist—there was only the two of you, tangled up in each other, driven by a desire that neither of you could resist.

his lips found yours again, and this time the kiss was fierce, almost desperate, as if he was trying to convey all the things words couldn't. you matched his intensity, your heart pounding in your chest, the thrill of the forbidden making your blood run hot.

"baby," he whispers, his voice rough with emotion, "i ain't ever lettin' you go. they can say what they want, but this… this is real."

you nodded, tears prickling at the corners of your eyes as you held him close, your bodies pressed together as if you could somehow fuse yourselves into one. "we’ll find a way," you promised, your voice barely more than a whisper. "we’ll make it work, rafe. i’ll follow you anywhere."

he smiled against your lips, that familiar smirk that never failed to make your heart skip a beat. "damn right you will, darlin'. we got somethin' worth fightin' for."

and as the night deepened around you, the stars twinkling above like a million silent witnesses to your love, you knew that no matter what came next, you and rafe would face it together. because in this moment, with his arms around you and his heart beating in time with yours, nothing else mattered.

[all-purpose-dish-soap]

32 / 1.4k / soap soulmate au, part 9

...

Soap goes still and quiet, his grip loosening. "People?"

"Human trafficking."

"How do you know?"

"Because security is quadrupled in the basement lounge. The client and his inner circle are scheduled to move downstairs after midnight. They're calling it an afterparty."

"You're sure it's not drugs?"

"I'm sure. I saw the dossier given to security downstairs."

Soap's mouth twists. The target sure as hell isn't leaving this place alive if he can help it. “Could’ve mentioned that earlier."

“I tried. Who do you think tipped Laswell off?"

That gives Soap pause. "Laswell? You’ve been in touch with her?"

"Once." You curl your fingers tighter into his vest and grab his chin to make him look at you. "Johnny, listen. If you kill him now, everything locks down. You won't be able to get into the basement. You need to get down there quietly with the element of surprise."

"What have you got in mind? Covert extraction, no prep, no briefing?" He raises one hand as if to cover yours, to trace along your knuckles. After so long, he can’t help it. He just wants to touch you. "That's a lot to ask. What was your plan if we didn’t show? Go it alone?"

"Figure it out as I go along, I guess."

"Christ, you're a headache." Soap's hand tightens around yours, gently pulling it off his collar to bring your hand up to his cheek. He turns up your palm and presses a kiss to the inside of your wrist. You're on his side this time. He can't put into words how light it makes him feel. 

He makes a low sound in his throat before he pulls back again. He clicks on his radio. "Captain, LT, you'll want to hear this."

While Soap explains the situation on his team's comms, you put yourself back together, checking your rifle and your gear. He watches you the whole time. You’re not what he remembers—not the cornered animal he met in that interrogation room before. You're in your element. If he could, he’d drag you away, take you back to some safehouse somewhere, and focus on getting to know you in every way and every position he knows. Patience, he tells himself. After this mission, he'll have all the time in the world. 

After the brief conference--and Laswell confirming she’d received an anonymous, cryptic tip about stolen goods in the target’s favorite Swiss Alps resort--he turns back to you. "Price wants the target no matter what. We're pullin' back to regroup and plan our strategy."

Your stomach drops. "What? There's no time."

"You said it yourself: we have no intel, no time to prep, and no good way in. Civilians everywhere. If it goes tits up, people die." He grabs your hand and pulls you into the hall, heading for the stairwell. "We're fallin’ back and regrouping while we still can."

You jerk your hand out of his, stumbling back. "We have intel. I was briefed on this mission. I can get downstairs,” you argue.

You mean alone. Soap doesn't like that. "Not happening,” he snaps, his voice rough with frustration. He glares down at you, a muscle in his jaw jumping as he clenches his teeth. “I know you can more than handle yourself, but not against a hundred of these bastards."

"Those bastards are my coworkers," you retort. "They won't look twice at me."

That's the worst part. Your familiarity with this place makes you an undeniable asset for this mission—that’s why he sought you out. The reason that’ll be in the official report, anyway. Damn it. He's torn between the knowledge that he should be happy you’re willing to help his team out and his desire to throw you over his shoulder and carry you out of the building.

"You said yourself security's quadrupled down there. If it goes loud, you're done. I'm not lettin’ you play hero. No. Ain't happenin'."

“Then we find a different plan,” you argue. You've never met someone so hard-headed.

"She might have a point," Gaz's voice says in Soap’s earpiece. "If we find a way to bring security up to the ground floor instead, you and Ghost can get down there and find the hostages. Security's already jumpy with the power out--give them a reason to come upstairs and they will. It’s just a matter of finding a distraction. And we've got snipers posted. Distractions are easy."

Hearing Gaz, you nod. “I'll take the target and lead him into view for your snipers.”

Soap curses under his breath, running a hand over his mohawk. He wishes he’d turned his radio off. He doesn't like putting you at risk.

You huff and sling your rifle over your back. Time is slipping away. "I need to find the target. I'll wait for your signal and--"

Soap grabs your arm before you can walk past him. "Jesus, stop. Give me a minute to think."

"We don't have--"

"Time, I ken." Soap's grip tightens. He tugs you against him again, one hand going to the back of your neck to hold you in place. "You're not goin'. Not without me."

"That's ridiculous!" Your voice climbs despite the way he forces you closer--folds his arm around your lower back and pulls you chest-to-chest. "They’ll see you. And they’re not just going to arrest you, okay—they’ll kill you."

Soap’s expression tightens. "How do I know you won't abscond with the target? Wouldn’t be the first time you left us high and dry."

You close your mouth and stare at him. He’s worried you’ll betray him. Your gaze falls to his chest, silent, because it wouldn't be the first time.

At the look on your face, Soap’s chest feels like it’s caving in. But he keeps going before he loses his nerve. He doesn't care if it's selfish. "You disappeared. No word. No message. Not even a thank you. I'm not lettin' that happen a second time. One wrong move and I'm pullin' you out."

He lets go of you, unhooks the collar radio from around his neck, and puts it around yours instead. "Tell my team when and where you have the target in place. They'll take care of the rest."

You put the earpiece in place and adjust the bit around your neck. "Fine."

He stands still, arms crossed, as you adjust your gear one more time. Your nerves are shot.

You glance at him, an apology stuck in your throat. "I was going to contact you, I just..."

"Just what? Had more important things going on? Assholes to protect?" he snaps. He stalks closer, towering over you again. The frustration flashing through his eyes eclipses the sudden, haunted look of a man who hasn't slept well in weeks.

You press your hand to the armor on his chest and lower your voice. "I get it if you don't trust me. Just... trust that I want your target dead as much as you do."

"Promise me you won't disappear on me again."

You bite the inside of your lip and put your hand on his cheek. Something in your chest twinges when he leans into it. "I promise," you lie.

"Good." He closes his eyes and lowers his forehead to yours. He breathes deeply, committing your touch to memory.

Then he opens his eyes and angles your jaw up toward his, his mouth slanting over yours in a hard, possessive kiss that empties your brain completely. When he pulls away, his eyes glimmer.

"You’d better stand by that promise, darlin’,” he says, voice low and dangerous. “I let you go in Las Almas because you didn’t want my protection yet. Could’ve taken you with me whether you liked it or not, but I couldn’t stand the thought of you hatin’ me. Even if it meant keepin’ you safe.” The cool leather on his knuckles brushes tenderly against your neck. "But those reservations aren’t holdin’ me back anymore. I will do what needs to be done if you play games with me. You understand?"

You stare at him, heart thumping strangely. "I don't think that's... necessary."

“I hope it’s not.” He cups your jaw in his hands and brings your lips to his again. The kiss this time is gentler, softer—just a slow, intimate press that melts you completely. You’re breathless by the time he lifts his head. "When this is over, you're mine."

You nod weakly, not trusting yourself to speak.

...

part 1 / part 2 / part 3 / part 4 / part 5 / part 6 / part 7 / part 8 / [part 9] / part 10 / part 11 / part 12

more Soap / masterlist tag

[daryl-dixon-daydreams]

Daryl was frantic as he opened the cell door. "C'mon. We gotta go now. 'M gettin' ya outta here," he said. He was puzzled as you stayed huddled on the floor at the back of the cell. "C'mon. S'okay. I'mma make sure yer safe."

You continued to just stare at him with wide eyes. "Daryl—No. You can't," you replied.

His brow furrowed. Confusion washed over his face. "What? Yeah, I can. Ya ain't stayin' in here any longer. Look what they've already done t'ya," he said, his eyes flickering over the smears of dried blood on your skin and the blooming purple bruises. His chest felt hollow and achy. His heart raced with rage. He crossed the cell toward you, glancing over his shoulder again to make sure none of the Reapers were heading your way. He started to untie the ropes binding your wrists and ankles but you jerked away from him, glassy tears in your eyes.

"No! Please! If they know you helped me, they—they'll hurt you too! Please. I can't let you get hurt. Who knows what they'd do if—" you broke off and your eyes darted toward the door as a sound rattled down the hallway. Footsteps were soon audible in the distance.

Daryl swore under his breath, glancing up the long hallway. He looked back at you and cupped your face with one hand. "Nah. S'my job to worry 'bout that. I will get ya outta here. Alrigh'? I ain't lettin' 'em keep doin' this to ya. I promise."

Prompt: "Please! If they know you helped me, they—they'll hurt you too! Please. I can't let you get hurt."

[dooblebugss]

Ooh, now you're lettin' go Heart beatin' faster, feet pushin' on the floor Ain't nothin' better Ooh, now you're lettin' go Heart beatin' faster, feet pushin' on the floor Ain't nothin' better Wavey Davey's on fire You still got it, you still got it alright, yeah (Huh, huh) Wavey Davey's on fire Oh, you still got it, you still got it alright, yeah (Huh, huh)

[certifiedmelover]

first date — duke dennis

author's note : my first blurb or whateva !! many more to come though but enjoy love's ♡ btw this isnt proof read so ignore any typo's yall 😭

synopsis : in which duke and reader enjoy their first date with each other!

pairing : duke dennis x black!fem reader

warnings : rated r language, no smut, fluff with a mix of flirty touching mostly

it was you and duke’s first date together, you enjoyed his flirtatious & charismatic personality. he was also very handsome in person.

you were so mesmerized by his facial features you didn’t even realize he was talking to you. his smooth skin seemed to glow under the soft interior lights of the truck, and the way his lips moved as he spoke was entrancing.

“take a picture it’ll last longer ma.” duke said with his famous smirk, showing off his shiny grills.

you snapped out of your trance, feeling a mix of embarrassment and amusement. “boy please, i was looking behind you outside the window.” you teased back.

duke chuckled, clearly enjoying your reaction. “nah but for real tho, im starting to fuck with you heavy.” he said placing his hand on your thigh and gently rubbing it.

you felt your heart race a little faster, the warmth of his touch sent a throbbing feeling to your area.

"oh? is that so?" you replied, trying to keep your voice steady despite the butterflies in your stomach.

duke’s gaze softened as he looked at you. "mhm, for real. i ain't felt this way in a minute," he admitted, his honesty catching you off guard.

you felt a blush creeping up your cheeks as you looked away, trying to process what he just said. “you really mean that?” you asked, your voice barely above a whisper

duke nodded, his hand still gently rubbing your thigh. “yea, i do. you different, ma. i like that,” he said, his voice low and husky.

the rain continued to hit against the windows, the moment felt perfect, like something out of a dream. you turned back to duke, meeting his gaze. “i’m starting to fuck with you too,” you confessed, a shy smile playing on your lips.

duke’s smirk widened, his eyes lighting up. “good, cause i most definitely ain’t lettin’ you go anytime soon,” he said, leaning in closer.

you felt your heart skip a beat as Duke leaned in closer, his face just inches from yours. the rain outside seemed to fade away, leaving just the two of you in your own little world.

duke’s lips curved into a satisfied grin before he closed the distance, pressing his lips to yours in a tender kiss.

the kiss was soft at first, but it quickly deepened, filled with all the pent-up emotions y’all both had been holding back.

you felt yourself melting into the kiss, your worries and thoughts fading away as you got lost in the moment.

the kiss grew more intense, and you felt yourself growing wetter each second. you could feel the heat radiating from him, only the soft sounds of y’all’s kisses filled the car.

you felt him slip in his tongue, and place his hand around your throat not to tightly but firm enough.

you pulled back before he could and took a deep breath in his lips were covered in your lip combo you had on.

“i really had a good time tonight with duke, i enjoyed myself and the dinner.” you said rubbing your fingers through his goatee hair.

“duh had to make a good impression on the first date for my future wifey.” duke said teasing you

“im future wifey now? oh okay.” you said giggling at him.

“of course, shit you been was when i laid my eyes on you but that’s another story for later, let me walk you to your door.” duke said while reaching in the backseat for his umbrella.

the rain continued to pour, creating a soft melody against the roof of the truck. he got out and quickly opened the umbrella, rushing around to your side to get you under the umbrella.

you both walked towards your front door, the rain tapping a gentle rhythm on the umbrella above.

now standing in front of your door, you turned around and looked up at duke’s face.

"thank you again for tonight," you said all soft-like putting your hands around his neck and playing with his dreads.

duke grinned, smooth as ever, putting his hands on your ass. "this is just the beginning, trust."

you leaned in to kiss him one last time before you went inside for the night.

[dixons-sunshine]

You Are My Sunshine | Daryl Dixon x Fem!Reader

*GIF isn't mine*

Summary: Being pregnant was a challenge, and being pregnant in an apocalypse came with a whole set of challenges on its own. Luckily, you had Daryl to take care of you, even if he was a little bit overprotective.

Genre: Fluff

Era: Alexandria, post Saviour war, pre the building of the bridge.

Warnings: Swearing, probably other things I can’t think of right now.

A/N: I don’t really know if pregnant ladies not being allowed to lift heavy things is factual or not. I just remembered someone telling me once that it could be harmful for the unborn child, and I’ve seen it being mentioned in movies and shows before, so I went based off of that. If it isn’t true, please pretend that it is for my sake lol.

“I know ya can, but it dun’ mean ya have to. Ya need’a take it easy.”

“Daryl, I'm perfectly capable of carrying it myself, you know.”

You rolled your eyes and shook your head, a small smile spreading over your face. “Dar, I have to do something. I can’t let everyone else do everything while I sit on my ass all day.”

“Yer pregnant. I ain't lettin’ ya overwork yerself. Anyone have a problem with that, let me know and I’ll handle ‘em. I ain’t lettin’ anythin’ happen to our baby jus’ ‘cause some people can’t pick up the slack and ya have to do their work for ‘em.”

“I highly doubt carrying one crate is gonna do anything,” you stated matter-of-factly, walking at a steady pace beside the archer while he was carrying the crate in question back to the pantry.

“Ain’t riskin’ it,” Daryl retorted with a sense of finality, pushing the crate onto one of the shelves before turning to you. He took a step towards you and placed a gentle hand on your growing bump, looking at you with a soft expression. “Ya and this baby, our baby, are the most important people in the world to me. I ain’t lettin’ nothin’ happen to the two of ya. If that means carryin’ a crate so that ya can rest or fightin’ off a herd of walkers so that yer safe, so be it. I’d do anythin’ for you and our lil’ one.”

You smiled softly at the archer you’ve grown to love above everything else. You leaned forward to press a quick, gentle peck on his cheek before leaning back, giggling at the bashful look and blush that coated Daryl’s face from the small action. “Sorry,” you said with a light laugh, aware of his feelings towards public displays of affection. “You’re just too adorable sometimes, you know that?”

That elicited a scoff from Daryl. He withdrew his hand from your bump and stepped back, ducking his head down to let his hair hide the growing blush on his face. “I ain’t adorable,” he retorted quietly.

“You are,” you responded with a light laugh. “There’s nothing you can say that’ll change my mind about that. You, Daryl Dixon, are adorable, sweet, caring and so much more. There honestly aren’t enough adjectives in the dictionary to describe how perfect you are to me.”

Daryl scoffed again. He shook his head at you, but you could see his mouth twitch up into a small smile, his eyes crinkling at the corners. “Nah,” he started, glancing at you through the hair that hung in front of his eyes. “Yer the perfect one. ‘M lucky to call ya mine.”

“Don’t start with me, Dixon. We can go back and forth about who’s more perfect all day,” you joked, successfully gaining a small chuckle from him in response.

“Alright,” he started, taking a step forward to press a quick kiss to your forehead. “I ain’t about to start an argument with the pregnant lady.”

“If that’s the case, does that mean I can help out with the tasks around here?” you asked, batting your eyelashes up at him innocently.

Daryl scoffed and shook his head. “Nah, that I ain’t lettin' happen. I was talkin’ ‘bout petty arguments. Ya need to take it easy and rest. Leave the work to the people who ain’t got unborn babies in their bellies they have to worry ‘bout.”

“Daryl—” you started, about to voice your protest, but the archer cut you off.

“None of that,” he stated with a shake of his head, his tone stern. “Ya remember the times ya wouldn’t let me do much to help out when I was hurt? I could help jus’ fine then too, but ya were worried ‘bout me and takin’ care of me. Let me take care of ya now, alright? Ya have more at stake here than tearin’ a few stitches.”

You pondered over his words for a few moments, hesitantly nodding after a few seconds. “Alright,” you finally agreed with a small sigh. “I haven’t really been getting much sleep these past few days. I guess I can go take a nap or something if that’ll make you feel better.”

“Hey,” Daryl started, taking one of your hands in his. “This ain’t ‘cause I think yer incapable to help out or somethin’. I know ya can, but I would feel better knowin’ yer not accidentally overworkin’ yerself. I’ve seen it happen before. Ya’d get so focused on a task and would overwork yerself without even knowin’ it. I dun’ want that to happen to ya right now.”

“Okay,” you nodded, willing the feelings of being useless away at the archer’s reassuring words, knowing he spoke nothing but the truth. “But the moment you guys desperately need an extra pair of hands, promise me you’ll come get me?”

Daryl nodded half-heartedly, and you could tell that even if he promised he would, he probably wouldn’t come get you. He’d put yours and your baby’s safety above everything else, even at the cost of a few extra hours of work for him and the other Alexandrians.

You leaned up on your toes to press a feathery light kiss to his lips before withdrawing. You gave him a smile before turning to walk out of the pantry towards the home you shared with him. As soon as you reached the front door of your home and pushed inside, you shrugged off your jacket and kicked off your shoes, discarding them by the table next to the entrance. You looked at the expanse of the quiet house and sighed, knowing you’d be alone until the sun started to set.

Well, you thought to yourself, I might as well make the best of my time alone. You went towards the kitchen to get a glass of water before descending up the stairs towards your room. You changed into something more comfortable before settling down on the bed, grabbing the book you were busy reading and flipping to the page you were busy with. You absentmindedly placed one hand over your stomach, the other holding the book as your eyes started to trail over the words on the page.

After a while, the words on the page started to blur together. You blinked repeatedly, hoping to clear your vision, but to no avail. Your eyes fell closed on their own accord, and within a few moments, you were asleep.

The feeling of the bed dipping beside you awoke you from your slumber. You opened your eyes and brought one of your hands up to wipe the sleep out of your eyes. When your vision cleared, you locked eyes with Daryl, the man having a faint, soft smile on his face.

“Sorry. I didn’t mean to wake ya,” he apologized, bringing a hand up to brush the stray hair back and away from your eyes.

“It’s okay,” you reassured him, bringing yourself up to a sitting position. You grabbed the book that you had read before falling asleep and placed it on your bedside table, before shifting your attention back to the archer.

Daryl was seated on the edge of the bed, busy pulling his boots off of his feet. When he was done, he laid back against the headboard, bringing his legs up to rest on the bed. His shoulders were slightly slumped, his posture giving away how tired he was. You furrowed your eyebrows at that. The workload hadn’t been that much that day, and as soon as the people were done they could return to their homes, so you couldn’t understand why Daryl looked so tired. Unless...

“Daryl,” you began softly, instantly catching the archer’s attention. “Did more work come in while I was here at home?” Daryl’s silence was enough of an answer. “Daryl—”

“S’fine. Nothin’ we couldn’t handle. Jus’ some buildin’ materials Maggie and the King sent us from their communities to fix up more houses. Rick wanted to get started on the repairs today, so Aaron and I got some people together to start.”

“Daryl,” you started, shaking your head. “I told you that if you needed an extra pair of hands to come and get me.”

“Nah, we were fine. Ya clearly needed the rest.”

“But—” you started to retort, but Daryl cut you off instantly.

“Michonne told me that really heavy liftin’ ain’t good for a pregnant lady. Said it can hurt the baby, so I didn’t want ya carryin’ logs and other heavy materials around. The rest of us can handle that.”

“When did you talk to Michonne?” you asked skeptically, your eyes narrowing in suspicion.

A sheepish look graced Daryl’s features. He avoided your gaze and instead focused his eyes on the bedsheets. “About a week after we found out that yer pregnant,” he admitted, nervously chewing on his bottom lip. “I was askin’ her and Carol what I could do to help make yer pregnancy easier, what would help with yer mornin’ sickness and what ya should avoid doin’, and she told me that ya needed to refrain from liftin’ heavy things. Said it could harm the baby.”

“So that’s why you’ve been so against me helping out around here?” you asked, earning a nod of confirmation from Daryl.

“Yeah. Most of the work we gotta do ‘round here involves heavy liftin’, and I didn’t want ya accidentally hurtin’ yerself or our lil’ one ‘cause of it. That’s why I’ve been so adamant about ya takin’ it easy,” he confirmed, ducking his head in embarrassment. “I didn’t wanna be overbearin’, but ya really wanted to help out with everythin’ and the thought of somethin’ goin’ wrong ‘cause of all the hard work we have to do was too much for me to handle. M’sorry.”

You gently grabbed Daryl’s hand, bringing it up to softly kiss his knuckles. “Why are you sorry? For not wanting anything to happen to me or our baby? You don’t have anything to apologize for. If anything, I should be apologizing.”

“For what?” Daryl asked confusedly, intertwining your fingers with his.

“For being so adamant about working. I just... I didn’t want to feel useless. I didn’t want to feel like a burden because I couldn’t help out.”

Daryl’s eyebrows furrowed, his lips pressing together tightly. “Yer not a burden. Dun’ ever think that. Yer carryin’ a life in yer belly, and that’s takin’ up most of yer energy and time. If anybody has a problem with the fact that ya can’t work as hard as ya used to for the next few months ‘cause yer pregnant, let me know and I’ll beat their ass.”

You smiled at him and pressed a kiss to his lips. When you pulled back, you could feel tears starting to form in your eyes. Daryl noticed it and frowned, concern lacing his voice.

“What’s wrong?” he asked frantically, bringing his hands up to cup your cheeks gently. He wiped away the tears that fell with his thumb.

“Hormones,” you said simply, laughing through your tears. “I don’t even really know why I’m crying.”

“C’mere,” Daryl said, wrapping his arms around you and guiding you to lay your head down on his chest. You shifted your body until your were comfortable, wrapping your arms around him as you listened to the steady rhythm of his heartbeat. Daryl’s arms wrapped around you, one of his hands venturing down to your baby bump. He gently started to caress your stomach, his hand’s soft movements making you sleepy almost instantly.

“M’sorry for bein’ so overprotective,” Daryl voiced after a few moments of silence, placing a gentle kiss on the top of your head.

“And I’m sorry for being so stubborn. I promise I’ll be more careful and take it easier from now on,” you promised, nuzzling your head deeper into his chest.

“Thank god,” he sighed in relief. “Any more of yer stubbornness and I would’a been forced to lock ya in the house whenever there was work to do.”

You laughed and lightly hit one of his arms that were wrapped around you, eliciting a chuckle from the archer. “I love you,” you mumbled into his chest.

“I love ya too,” he responded, placing another kiss on your head. "Now get some more rest. I'll be right here when ya wake up.”

You nodded against his chest and closed your eyes, listening to his heartbeat, your own personal lullaby. As your eyes drifted closed for the second time that day, you swore you could hear Daryl start to hum a song. A song you’ve been singing to your baby in your stomach since you found out you were pregnant.

You are my sunshine.

A smile formed on your face as Daryl lowly continued to hum the song, his hand still gently caressing your stomach. With the gentle caress of his hand, the steady rhythm of his heartbeat and the song he was humming, you soon drifted into slumber, safe in your archer’s arms.

[ba9go]

i don't care if you're contagious

bakugou katsuki x gn!reader (zombie apocalypse au)

in which katsuki promises to never leave your side.

katsuki trudged through the wreckage strewn about the street, the chaos of the apocalypse swirling around him. he had seen countless horrors, but none compared to this.

he sees a young boy sprinting away from a twisted, zombified woman. his mother. the child is sobbing, and katsuki's first instinct is to rush in and protect, but one of the other pro-heroes beat him to it.

'fuckin' hell,' katsuki thinks as he continues down the ruined street, steps heavy with disgust and frustration. his stomach twists and katsuki feels sickened at the cruelty of it all.

his eyes darted from one horror to another — crumbling buildings, abandoned cars, the unsettling sight of undead creatures stumbling, crawling, lying amongst the wreckage.

after days of this god-damned apocalypse, katsuki's gotten somewhat used to it. the stench of decay. the incessant groaning ringing in his ears. it was sickening.

and worst of all? you were missing.

it's been roughly 72 hours since katsuki's seen you (yes, he's keeping track), and katsuki's frantic.

katsuki knows you're strong, knows how capable you are. but even so, the situation has only gone from bad to worse, and anything could happen.

katsuki doesn't know what he'd do if he lost you.

katsuki knows he can't afford to dwell on things like that. each time he feels himself worrying about you, he shoves it all aside, because he knows — if he lets himself think about it, his mind would simply spiral, until it drove him completely crazy and to the brink of breaking down.

and only god knows how bad katsuki wanted to break down every passing moment without you, without knowing that you were okay.

katsuki doesn't think too much about what could happen. the thought of you lost in this madness, possibly hurt (or worse), was simply too unbearable.

instead, katsuki thinks about your sweet voice, telling him to stay strong, reassuring him that things will all be okay.

sometimes, in the quiet moments between the chaos, katsuki would close his eyes and let his mind drift back to the last time he saw you.

"katsuki," you murmured, reaching up to hold his face. your touch is always so gentle, and yet katsuki swears that it's the only thing keeping him grounded in this fucked-up situation.

"y/n'," katsuki exhales with a shaky breath. he leans down and presses his forehead against yours. his hands tighten their grip on your waist as he pulls you in as close as he can get. "i don't know if i have it in me to let you go, darlin'."

"i know, katsuki," you sighed, caressing his cheeks with your thumbs, and katsuki's chest tightens as your eyes start to water. "i'll be back later, alright?"

"i'll be waiting," katsuki thinks you already know this, but he tells you anyway. "i swear to god, i ain't lettin' go of ya when ya come back to me."

"sure took your sweet time comin' back to me, didn't ya?" katsuki chuckles as he approaches the familiar figure staggering through the debris.

it was you.

the infection had twisted you into one of them, with deathly pale skin and jerky, unnatural movements. yet even in your zombified state, katsuki knew it was you.

slowly, you turned around to look at katsuki impassively. katsuki's heart clenches at your empty stare, but he can't bring himself to walk away from you.

"been lookin' for ya, ya know?" katsuki laughs, even though it's strained. "had me lookin' like the clingy one, sweets."

you stumble towards him with outstretched hands, and all katsuki can think is that you're reaching out to him, and he's rushing to you in an instant.

before he reaches you, you sway on your feet and fall to the ground on your knees. katsuki curses under his breath and he kneels in front of you, holding you by your shoulders to steady you.

"are you okay?" is what katsuki wants to ask, but he realises with a shudder that it would be futile. instead, he closes the distance, his hand gently cupping your face.

"damn it, y/n," katsuki voice breaks. "i've been looking for you. i looked everywhere." katsuki searches desperately in your eyes for any trace of emotion, of recognition.

you let out a weak, garbled noise, but you don't lean into his touch, and katsuki thinks for the first time since this shitty apocalypse that his world might finally be crashing down around him.

'no,' katsuki thinks. he finally found you. this was no time for him to break down. he had to be strong, for you.

"i'm sorry i took so long," katsuki forces a small smile. "m'here now, yeah?"

katsuki wraps his arms around you and pulls you in towards him like he's done countless times in the past.

katsuki closed the gap between them, his lips pressing against yours in a kiss.

katsuki doesn't pull away until your hands are on his shoulders, pushing him away as if in protest. it was so like you, and katsuki couldn't help the small chuckle that escaped him.

"i told ya i wouldn't let go of ya, didn't i?" katsuki smiles, even as he feels himself growing faint. "a promise's a promise, darlin'."

bbbbrrrrrraaaaiiiinnnnnnsssssssssss...

taglist (thank you for your support!!): @anicaaa67 @maddietries @valeriyaaak @v3n7s @deimosjay @zaiban2989 @girls-overflower @notmeduhh @dreamcastgirl99 @busdriver-move-that-ass @atashiboba @kathsuhki @armeenix @channnee @sukunasbottomlefteyeball @kenqki @vikizzy @thesimpybitch @eempxth @hanta-seros-wifey @itztaki @thekidscallmebosss @crimsonrubie @babylambdietcoke @suki0

[phantomuheist]

@guildofthieves said: "I've heard enough. Let me take over." 💋 — Goro and Akira adult versions

"Shut Up" Kiss starters | Accepting

The kiss caught him off guard, but he returned it tenfold, arms looping around his neck. "What? Are you jealous that some people still flirt with me? You know what I tell them every time." That he's taken, of course. By a mysterious guy who's busy getting his life together or something like that. "Anyway, you wanna go somewhere today? Maybe watch a movie or take a walk at the park?" He suggested as his hands landed on his shoulders gently.

[importantangels]

If you're still asking for Remy/reader suggestions - maybe something where reader is injured and Remy has to stay at the mansion with reader or reader will sneak on the x-jet?

Healing Heart's

Word count: 682

Remy Lebeau x Reader

Summary: Y/N gets injured and Remy takes care of her

The fluorescent lights were harsh on Y/N's eyes as she lay in a bed in the medbay. The battle she was in had been hard, but the X-men came out on top, like usual, but as always, it came with someone being injured. Y/N's body ached and burned from scrapes, and she probably had a broken rib or two.

As she looked over, she let out a groan from the pain of shifting in the bed and moving to get up before noticing someone sitting beside her. Remy sat with worry etched on his face, watching her try to leave the bed. "Chérie, stop. You gotta rest." He places a hand on her shoulder to keep her from getting out of bed.

"There's no time for rest, there's always something to do," she huffs, being pushed flat against the pillows. "And the team needs me, Remy. I can't just sit here." She rolls over, leaving her back to face him. "De team can manage without you for a while, you need to heal." She leaves him in silence, definitely upset at the thought of having to stay in the medbay for, god knows, how long.

Over the next few days, Y/N's frustration grew. Every time she heard the rest of the X-Men leave, she felt guilty, causing them to be down a member. She tried many times to sneak out of the mansion, but Remy was always one step ahead of her.

Days later, Y/N was officially done with staying inside and off her feet, she was determined to board the X-Jet with the rest of the X-men. But just as she was about to step on it when Remy appeared in front of her, blocking her path. "Remy, move!" she said, her voice filled with frustration.

She tries to step around him, but Remy moves to block her every time. Remy stood with his arms crossed. "Non, chérie. I ain't lettin' you go out dere to get hurt again when you aren't even fully healed." Y/N stared at him with her brows furrowed in anger before feeling tears of anger and helplessness well up in her eyes. "You don't understand." Her voice wavered. "I have to be there, I have to help." Remy's eyes softened before stepping closer.

He brought his hand up to gently hold her arm. "I do understand." He starts, "But you ain't helpin' nobody if you get hurt worse, let me take care of you." With a huff from Y/N, Remy guides her back into the mansion.

Y/N reluctantly returns to her room, still feeling the guilt gnawing at her. That evening, she laid in bed, tossing and turning, realizing just how boring the mansion was when everyone was on a mission.

A knock pulls her away from her blank stare at the wall. "Brought you somethin' to eat," he said with a smile while opening the door. Y/N sat up in bed, accepting the tray of food.

"Thanks, Remy." Her voice sounded bored when she spoke. "I know it's hard for you to stay behind, but de team understands," he says, taking a seat beside her on the bed. "All we want is for you to get better." Y/N looks into his eyes, seeing the sincerity and concern there. "I'm sorry for being so stubborn."

Remy chuckled after she spoke. "It's one of de t'ings I love about you," he said, smiling at her again. "But you gotta promise me you'll rest and let yourself heal." She sighs before nodding. "I promise."

Over the next few days, Y/N let Remy help her with most things, and she realized that taking care of herself is just as important as helping her team. One morning, when Y/N was able to move around more without pain, she found Remy in the kitchen, making breakfast. Her steps were quiet as she walked up behind him, slipping her arms around his waist. "Merci, Remy," she whispered. "For everything." Remy turns in her hold to look at her, placing a kiss on her nose. "Anytime, chérie, you mean de world to me."

[sinful-sonnet]

“On the Brink”

Joel Miller x f!Reader | one shot smut Drabble

W/C: 2.7k

You knew teasing Joel was dangerous, but you didn't expect it to end like this— pinned beneath his firm grip, trembling as he holds you on the brink of pleasure. His voice is low, commanding, full of promises you're not sure you can handle, but you have no choice. He's not letting you go until you've learned your lesson.

Content Warnings: MDNI -This piece contains explicit sexual content, orgasm denial and control, impact play (light spanking), fingering, consensual dominance and submission dynamics (including the use of titles like "Daddy"), themes of overstimulation and begging, and intense emotional vulnerability during consensual sexual interactions. This content is intended for mature audiences only and should be read with discretion.

The room was quiet except for the sound of your shallow breaths and Joel's low, gravelly voice. You were on the bed, spread out for him, your wrists pinned above your head by one of his large, rough hands. His other hand was between your thighs, teasing you mercilessly, keeping you hovering on the brink of release but never letting you reach it.

"You've been beggin' so sweetly," he murmured, his dark eyes burning into yours as his fingers slid over your slick heat. "But I already told you, darlin. You don't get to come until I say so."

Your body trembled beneath him, your hips bucking instinctively against his hand. "Please, Daddy," you whimpered, your voice breaking. "I can't take it anymore. I need to-"

Joel chuckled softly, his smirk widening as he pressed his thumb against your most sensitive spot, drawing a desperate moan from your lips. "Oh, you need to, huh?" he drawled, his tone laced with mockery. "You're so worked up you think you can just come whenever you want?"

You nodded frantically, your body arching beneath him as the tension in your core built to an unbearable peak.

"Yes," you gasped, your voice trembling.

"Please, Joel-"

"Not my name," he interrupted, his tone sharp. His hand stilled, and you let out a frustrated sob as the pressure inside you dissipated. "You know better than that, sweetheart. What do you call me?"

"Daddy," you corrected quickly, your cheeks flushing as you squirmed beneath his unrelenting grip. "Please, Daddy, I'll do anything."

Joel smirked, his hand resuming its slow, teasing movements. "That's better," he muttered, his voice rough.

"But you don't get to come just 'cause you're beggin! You're gonna take what I give you, baby, and nothin' more."

You whimpered, your body trembling as his fingers worked you closer to the edge again. The pleasure was almost overwhelming, every nerve in your body alight with sensation, but just as your release hovered within reach, Joel pulled back again, leaving you gasping and writhing beneath him.

"Joel!" you cried, your voice tinged with desperation.

His dark eyes narrowed, his jaw tightening as he leaned down, his lips brushing against your ear. "What did I just say?" he growled, his voice low and commanding. "You don't come until I fuckin' say so. And you definitely don't get to call me that when your actin' like a brat."

"I'm sorry, Daddy," you whimpered, tears pricking at the corners of your eyes as your body trembled with need.

"I'll be good, I promise."

"Damn right you'll be good," he muttered, his hand sliding back between your thighs, his fingers curling perfectly inside you. "But you're still not gettin' it, sweetheart. This ain't about what you want. This is about what I want."

You cried out softly as he worked you over with deliberate precision, his movements just enough to bring you back to the brink. Your hips bucked against his hand, your breath coming in short, ragged gasps as the tension in your core built again.

"Daddy, please," you sobbed, your voice trembling. "I can't-"

"Can't what?" Joel interrupted, his voice dripping with mockery. "Can't hold it?

You're gonna have to, darlin. 'Cause l'm not lettin' you come tonight."

The sharpness of his words sent a fresh wave of frustration through you, tears spilling down your cheeks as your body trembled beneath him. "Please," you whimpered, your voice barely audible.

"I'll do anything. Just let me-"

"Anything?" Joel echoed, his smirk widening as his fingers stilled again.

"Then you'll take what I give you and not a second more."

Your sobs grew louder as he continued to tease you, his pace unrelenting but never enough to tip you over the edge.

Your thighs trembled, your hands clutching at the sheets as you tried to find some relief, but Joel's grip on your wrists kept you firmly in place.

"Look at you," he muttered, his voice low and rough. "Drippin' all over yourself, beggin' me to let you come. You're so fuckin' pretty when you're desperate like this."

"Daddy, please," you whimpered, your voice hoarse from crying. "I'll be good, I swear. Just-please, I can't take it anymore."

Joel chuckled softly, his dark eyes filled with satisfaction as he leaned down, pressing a soft kiss to your forehead. "I know, baby," he murmured, his tone laced with affection. "But you'll take it anyway. You're mine, and I'll decide when you've had enough."

Joel chuckled darkly, his hand leaving you for a moment before coming down with a sharp smack against your center.

The sound echoed through the room, and you gasped, your hips jerking instinctively at the sudden sting.

"That get your attention?" he asked, his tone teasing as his fingers returned, stroking you gently. The contrast between the sharp smack and the soft touch made your body tremble, a needy whimper escaping your lips.

"Y-yes, Daddy," you stammered, your thighs quivering under his grip.

"Good," he muttered, his smirk widening as he brought his hand down again, the sting sharper this time. The mix of pain and pleasure sent a jolt of heat straight through you, and you moaned loudly, your hands clutching at the sheets.

"Such a good girl," he murmured, his fingers dipping into your slick folds, teasing you mercilessly. "Takin' it so well for me. You like it when I do that, don't you?"

"Yes," you gasped, your body arching beneath him. "I love it."

"Damn right you do," he growled, his hand coming down again, the sting sharper this time. Your moans grew louder, your body trembling with the intensity of it all as he leaned in closer, his breath hot against your skin.

"Keep makin' those pretty noises for me, baby," he muttered, his voice thick with arousal. "Let me hear how much you like it."

You whimpered, your hips rocking against his hand as he alternated between soft, teasing strokes and sharp, deliberate smacks. The sensation was overwhelming, every touch sending a fresh wave of heat through your body, building the tension in your core until you were trembling beneath him.

"Please, Daddy," you whimpered, your voice shaking. "'m so close."

"Not yet," he muttered, his hand coming down one more time, the sting making you cry out. He leaned in, his dark eyes locking onto yours as his fingers slid inside you, curling perfectly. "You don't get to come until I say so. Understand?"

"Yes, Daddy," you whimpered, your voice barely audible as your body trembled under his touch.

"That's my girl," he murmured, his lips brushing against your thigh. "Now let's see how long you can hold it."

Your body trembled violently as Joel's fingers moved inside you, his grip firm and unrelenting. The sharp sting of his hand smacking against your center moments earlier still echoed through you, blending into the overwhelming pleasure coursing through your veins.

His dark eyes bore into yours, his expression hard as he kept teasing and taunting, pushing you closer to the edge.

"You don't get to come yet," he growled, his tone low and commanding. "You're gonna hold it for me like a good girl. Understand?"

"Yes, Daddy" you gasped, your voice trembling, though your body had other plans. The fire in your core was too much to ignore-his fingers, his voice, his presence-it was all too overwhelming. You could feel yourself hurtling toward the edge, and no amount of restraint was going to stop it.

Joel smirked, his fingers curling perfectly inside you as his thumb pressed against your sensitive bundle of nerves. "That's it," he murmured. "Feel how close you are? But you're not gonna let go. Not until I say so."

Your breath hitched, your thighs quivering as your hips rocked instinctively against his hand. "I-can't," you whimpered, your voice barely audible. "It's too much."

"Don't," he warned, his voice sharp, his other hand tightening on your thigh.

"Don't you fuckin' come, darlin. Dont you dare"

But the tension in your body snapped like a rubber band, and before you could stop yourself, your climax crashed over you, stealing your breath as your body shook beneath him. A loud, broken moan tore from your throat as wave after wave of pleasure consumed you, your thighs clenching around his hand.

Joel froze, his eyes narrowing as he watched you fall apart in defiance of his order. His hand stilled, his jaw tightening as his gaze locked onto yours. "Bad girl," he muttered, his tone low and disbelieving.

You whimpered softly, your body still trembling as you clutched at the sheets, your cheeks flushing with a mix of embarrassment and lingering pleasure.

"I-I couldn't help it," you stammered, your voice shaking.

Joel's smirk returned, but this time it was dark, almost predatory, as he pulled his hand away and wiped it on the sheets. "You couldn't help it, huh?" he repeated, his tone laced with mockery.

"You just couldn't follow one simple rule?"

You shook your head, tears prickling at the corners of your eyes as you tried to catch your breath. "I'm sorry, Daddy," you whispered, your voice trembling. "I didn't mean to-"

"Sorry ain't gonna cut it," he interrupted, his tone sharp as he leaned over you, his broad frame towering over yours.

"You think you can just do whatever you want? Think you can come whenever you feel like it, even after I told you not to?"

You swallowed hard, your heart pounding as Joel grabbed your wrists, pinning them above your head with one hand while the other trailed down your body, his touch firm and deliberate.

"I told you to wait," he muttered, his voice low and rough as his hand slid between your thighs. "And now, you're gonna take what I give you until I decide you've learned your lesson."

"Joel, please-" you began, but his dark eyes flashed, cutting you off.

"Try again" he growled, his grip tightening on your wrists.

"Daddy," you corrected quickly, your voice shaking. "I'm sorry, Daddy."

"Too late for sorry," he muttered, his fingers slipping inside you again, his movements unrelenting. "You wanna come so bad? Fine. You're gonna come again, and again, until you're beggin' me to stop."

Your body arched beneath him, the overstimulation making your legs tremble as his fingers worked you over mercilessly. He was relentless, his pace brutal, pushing you toward another release almost immediately.

"Next time," he muttered, his lips brushing against your ear as your moans grew louder, "when I tell you to wait, you'll remember this. Won't you, baby?"

"Yes," you gasped, your voice breaking as your body tensed beneath him, another climax crashing over you. "Yes, Daddy, I'll remember."

Joel smirked, his grip on your wrists softening slightly as he leaned down, pressing a rough, possessive kiss to your lips. "Good," he muttered, his tone low and satisfied. "But we're not done yet."

Joel’s dark eyes bore into yours, his smirk widening as he watched you tremble beneath him, your chest heaving, and your body still trembling from your last climax. His grip on your wrists remained firm, pinning you to the bed as he hovered over you, his expression full of smug satisfaction.

“You think you’ve had enough?” he muttered, his tone laced with mockery. His free hand slid down your body, his calloused fingers trailing over your oversensitive skin. “Not a chance, sweetheart. You wanted this, didn’t you? Wanted me to take care of you?”

“Joel—” you whimpered, your voice barely a whisper, but the sharp look he gave you silenced you immediately.

“What’s my name?” he growled, his hand gripping your jaw, tilting your face up to meet his gaze.

“Daddy,” you corrected quickly, your voice trembling. “Please, Daddy, I can’t—”

“Oh, you can,” he interrupted, his tone firm and commanding. “And you will. I told you, darlin’. You don’t get to come without my permission, and now you’re gonna pay for it.”

His hand slid between your thighs again, his fingers finding your slick cunt with ease. You whimpered softly, your body arching beneath him as he teased you, his touch maddeningly slow and deliberate.

“You’re so fuckin’ sensitive,” he muttered, his dark eyes flicking down to watch as his fingers worked you over. “Look at you, shakin’ like a leaf. You think I’m gonna stop just ‘cause you’re beggin’? Not a chance.”

You cried out as he curled his fingers inside you, hitting that perfect spot that made your body tense and your vision blur. The overstimulation was overwhelming, every nerve in your body on fire as he pushed you closer to the edge again.

“Please, Daddy,” you gasped, your voice breaking as tears pricked at the corners of your eyes. “I can’t take it anymore. It’s too much.”

Joel chuckled darkly, his hand tightening on your wrists as his pace quickened. “Oh, you’ll take it, baby,” he muttered, his voice low and rough. “You’ll take every bit of it until I’m done with you.”

Your body tensed beneath him, the tension in your core building impossibly fast as he continued, his fingers relentless. “Come for me,” he growled, his voice thick with arousal. “Let me feel you come again, darlin’. Let me see how much you can take.”

You shattered beneath him, your body trembling violently as your release hit you like a tidal wave. A loud, broken moan tore from your throat, your back arching off the bed as wave after wave of pleasure coursed through you. Joel groaned softly, his dark eyes burning with satisfaction as he watched you fall apart.

But he didn’t stop.

Your moans turned to soft sobs as his fingers continued their assault, his pace unrelenting. “Daddy, please,” you whimpered, your voice trembling as tears streamed down your cheeks. “I can’t—I can’t take it anymore. Please, stop.”

Joel’s smirk deepened, his free hand brushing a tear from your cheek as he leaned down, his lips brushing against your ear. “You’ll take what I give you, sweetheart,” he muttered, his voice low and dangerous. “And I’m not stoppin’ until you’re beggin’ me to never touch you again.”

“Joel—Daddy—please,” you sobbed, your hands tugging weakly at the restraints. “It hurts. It’s too much.”

“I know, baby,” he murmured, his tone softening slightly, though his fingers never faltered. “But you’re bein’ so good for me. Just a little more, darlin’. You can handle it.”

Your body trembled beneath him, the overstimulation so intense it was almost unbearable. Every touch sent fresh waves of pleasure and pain coursing through you, your cries growing louder as your body tensed again.

“Fuck, look at you,” Joel muttered, his tone thick with lust as his gaze roamed over your trembling form. “You’re fallin’ apart for me. So fuckin’ perfect.”

“Daddy, please,” you begged, your voice hoarse. “I’ll be good. I promise. Just—please stop.”

Joel leaned down, his lips brushing against yours in a soft, teasing kiss. “One more,” he murmured, his tone low and commanding. “You’re gonna give me one more, darlin’. Then I’ll stop. Promise.”

You whimpered softly, your body trembling as his thumb pressed against your sensitive bundle of nerves, the added pressure making your thighs quake. You couldn’t hold back, your body giving in completely as another climax ripped through you, leaving you sobbing and trembling beneath him.

Joel finally stilled his hand, his grip on your wrists loosening as he leaned down to press a soft kiss to your forehead. “There you go,” he murmured, his voice quiet and soothing now. “You did so good for me, baby. So goddamn good.”

He reached up to undo your restraints, his hands gentle as he massaged the red marks on your wrists. Once you were free, he pulled you into his arms, cradling you against his chest as he placed soft kisses to your hair