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#daddy!au
wordstome · 5 months
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“How did Price end up with three girls who aren’t triplets or twins?” This is how.
I think we’re done here.
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alexsays-no · 2 months
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Harry is just being Harry. Again
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Art teacher and daddy AU part.2 ♡
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sukunas-wife · 4 months
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Waking up pressed into Sukuna’s large frame on a cold morning, the thick heavy embroidered blankets trapping all the heat. Eyes heavy with sleep as you took a deep breath through your nose arching your back and stretching your free arm.
Turning over and looking at Sukuna who was already staring down at you. Bleary vision as you blinked away the faint blur, “Good morning.”
Sukuna’s smile was faint, lidded eyes looked over your body through the duvet, “morning.” On of his arms held you against him and the other pulled your head closer as he pressed a kiss to the top of your head, “There’s a surprise.” The arms on his right side moved you leaned up trying to peek over his massive chest, before you smiled laughing quietly. He held up the blanket with one arm the other holding your son Yuji curled up into his side, almost in the pit of his arm. You reached over fingers lightly tracing Yuji’s cheek, your sweet boy who resembled his father so heavily but wore his heart on his sleeve so openly.
“He’s been waiting for the first snow, he’s been so excited now that it’s getting colder, but he shouldn’t be running around in this hard floor with no shoes! Or socks at least, look at his little feet, he could get sick.” You scolded your son in his sleep before he started to stretch “Look what you did, you woke my boy.” Sukuna chided with a mischievous laugh.
“Sno?” His first words as he rubbed his eyes with his tiny fists yawning. You sat back in your spot as Sukuna evaded his question holding him up in the air with one set of arms using the other to tickle him as he spoke “Waking up and the first thing you ask is if there’s snow, need to show my little brat some manners, how about a good morning dad or how did you sleep mom, hm?” Yuji was laughing holding onto his dads forearms kicking his feet before Sukuna sat up and Yuji sat in his lap resting his chin on his dad’s chest still smiling “morning daddy,” he turned to you trying to climb off his dad “gmornin mommy.”
You cooed at him dragging him into a tight hug and kissing his head, “Good morning baby how did you sleep?” He smiled “Good! It was cold so so i came running and ume saw me and i started to run faster like daddy! I made it an ume didn’t catch me but i couldn’t make it into the bed …” he looked down at his little chubb legs, “Is to high so i used teh chair!” He perked up and pointed at a chair at the foot of the bed, you laughed and squeezed him again, “Your so smart and cute.” He laughed when your squished him peppering his face with kisses.
“Like daddy!” Pointed at your husband causing him to let out a loud laugh “Sorry brat but if you wanna be like ME you have a lot of work to do.” Resting your cheek on Yuji’s head you looked at your husband who had a set of arms folded behind his head the other set crossed against his chests, you moved your cheek watching Yuji look at his hands before feeling him shake, he looked up at you with a look of look of betrayal and teary eyes, his cheek’s reddening, “i… i only have two… two hands!” Bringing a hand to your mouth you looked away not wanting to laugh at in your son’s face, looking out the window you saw your escape, “Yuji! Honey look it’s snowing!”
He tried to rush over to the window, tripping off the bed, the patter of his feet making you shake your head. You heard Sukuna sigh before you felt a hand of his rest on your waist pulling you back to him. “You do realize he’ll want to-CAN WE GO OUTSIDE!” The scream of your son made you side eye Sukuna with a smile and he looked away rolling his eyes.
“Uraume!” A second later Uraume entered the room bowed with closed eyes, “Yes Lord Sukuna?” Sukuna pushed the duvet back “bring my robes let the maids in and then get my brat ready to go outside.” Yuji cheered and rushed to Uraume ready to get dressed. Uraume and the maids made quick work of getting you and Yuji ready to head out into the snow that was quickly piling up. Sukuna only closed his robes for a change, but it was evident he was uncomfortable from the stretch of the fabric. The three of you heading out into the snow your ladies in waiting and Uraume standing just a bit off. You watched as Yuji ran around in the snow the crunching of his foot steps as he ran throwing fallen snow into the air, Sukuna laughing loudly when Yuji tripped and disappeared into the snow, only stopping and shocked when you rushed over to Yuji and falling waist deep into the same hole. He sighed walking over to pull you both out, his arm movement restricted by his closed robes before he tore the robes entirely just to pull both of you out.
“That’s better.” Was all he said as he rolled his shoulders, chest and back exposed to the cold, and soon enough you were fighting Yuji to keep his clothes on when you had turned to him watching him try to fold his robes down the way his father had. Sukuna scoffed with a smirk watching as his son ran away from you in the snow chest bare for all to see. Your lungs aching from the cold air, Yuji was smiling big his laughs blowing out puffs of fog until he was snatched up by Sukuna who fixed his robes, “enough,” his voice was stern as Yuji sat on his forearm, “when your mother tell you to stop and come here you listen understood.”
Yuji nodded looking up at Sukuna, in his eyes his dad was the best thing in the world, to him Sukuna could say he hung every star in the sky and created the moon and sun and Yuji would awe and hold onto every word he said believing it was the absolute truth. You smiled at your husband, leaning against his arms once you were close enough, the heat of his body radiating and you realized he didn’t have a single snow flake on him.
🖤🖤❤️🖤🖤❤️🖤🖤❤️🖤🖤❤️🖤🖤❤️🖤🖤
“Yuujiii” you rubbed your sons back, he was curled up against your chest, your back against Sukuna’s chest. “Mm” he shook his head trying to bury his face in your chest and smiled down him. “Yuji, it’s Christmas don’t you wanna get up and open your gifts?” “m cold” he was quick to fall asleep as you huffed flipping over your body pulling Yuji with you
You face Sukuna with your little bundle of life between both of you, in his half awake state he pulled you closer squishing Yuji between his and your own chest. He laid on his left side on arm tucked under his head the other pulling both you and Yuji close, his right arm placed on your waist and the other pulling the duvet up to cover you all. The faint crackling wood could be heard from the smoldering fire as it slowly faded, the shadow of snow falling filled the room from the window, the soft breaths of your son squished between you and your husband. Your left hand came up to hold Ryomen’s face, his eyes opened slightly, the smile on your face as you did your best to stretch up and kiss him, he leaned down to meet your kiss.
“I love you,” was all you whispered against his lips, feeling the heat on his cheeks as he squeezed your soft side “I’ll do everything to protect you and Yuji until my last breath.” Was his affectionate response.
Your soft smile in the faint light of the rising sun, soft breaths when you whispered “Merry Christmas Ryomen.” He let out a breathy laugh amused, “mm, Merry Christmas.”
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captainkirkk · 1 year
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I want to see characters being taken care of in an explicit and worshipful way. Home-cooked meals. Hair brushed and braided by gentle hands. Little gifts just because.
I want to read about characters who are not used to kindness being bombarded by acts of service. This trope works romantically and platonically. Give me found family and acts of service - all the ways a character is wrapped up in wordless, explicit care after years of cruelty and having no idea how to handle. I need it.
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tieronecrush · 4 months
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secret santa
dbf!joel miller x f!reader
summary: your parents throw a christmas party every year, and this is your first time in the “adult” secret santa exchange. the last few times home, you’ve found joel, your dad’s friend, staring a bit too long, flicking away when he’s caught. for the game, of course, you get joel’s name. and you’re going to make sure it’s the best gift he’s ever received.
rating: E
wc: 5.6k
warnings: daddy kink, age gap (sorry folks but i did want to try my hand at dbf!joel lol i pictured him around 50, reader around mid-late 20s), alcohol consumption, mentions of food, distant relationship with parents, party, christmas, gift giving, secret santa game, bit of deception on reader's part just to get joel alone, lingerie, body worship, fingering, oral (f receiving), unprotected p in v, restraints (using clothes/undergarments), daddy!joel, soft!dom joel, praise, a few instances of degradation, dirty talk (as always)
a/n: (images in moodboard do not convey what reader looks like, only the vibe! no descriptions of reader) my first dbf!joel…milestone moment lol <3 hope y’all enjoy my take on the dbf trope! and tysm to my babies for beta-ing @northernbluess and @kiwisbell love you both 😚
dividers by @saradika
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Twenty years. This same godforsaken party has been happening every December for the last twenty years of your life, full of overserved middle aged parents, and never has it been less enjoyable than since you’ve been an “adult”. An adult still treated as a child, chastised, fawned over, always told to follow the golden rule. No, not treat others as they wish to be treated. Your family’s golden rule was speak only when spoken to.
And your father was the enforcer. Always required you home for the party, even away, out of state for college, away for the semester studying abroad halfway across the world. You were flown home and called upon to do the heavy lifting — groceries, liquor runs, cleaning the house, decorating to make it all feel magically festive.
At times, it felt like Cinderella had nothing on you. At least she had a prince.
The only time that this party has ever been remotely improved was when Joel Miller moved into the neighborhood. He’d snuck in under your radar due to the fact that it happened the few months you were living abroad, but coming back for the party and Christmas break, you were quickly introduced to him by your father. His new “best friend”. One among many. Each serving a unique purpose to get your dad ahead.
Upon meeting Joel, you were drawn to him immediately. Skeptical over the fact he found company with your dad, but much to your surprise, he was different. Maybe lonely and looking for a friend; you’d found he was living alone, his adult daughter, Sarah, in her final years at the University of Chicago — a choice that was hers but Joel admittedly feared, you learned. He only encouraged her, regardless of the fact he was anxious about losing his kiddo.
Not the same sentiments your dad had when dropping you off to school in the farthest, cheapest corner of the country you could find. He was nearly jumping up and kicking his feet together in glee to get you out of the house.
Joel, though, Joel was kind hearted and patient. He was curious and caring, asking you about school, work, your life every time he saw you over the years. Warmth radiated from him despite his more shy demeanor. Comfortable. You felt so comfortable with him.
Which is what made the smallest of lingering glances or the slightest of smiles turned smirks that much more exhilarating.
Maybe you were being naive or projecting your burning desire for him onto every interaction, but as you stitched yourself tighter into Joel’s life over the years, you haven’t been able to help but notice him checking you out at times or slipping a subtle flirty comment into conversations between the two of you. You would give it right back, and that would usually pump the breaks, bringing things back to surface level.
There was one time this past summer, after a neighborhood barbecue that your parents left early from, that you and Joel really had a moment. It was loud, music drowning out the back and forth you were having to the point where you couldn’t quite make out every word, and Joel must have felt the same because he made sure you heard his next words clearly — “Do you want to go somewhere quieter?”
Agreeing immediately, he pressed his large hand into the midpoint of your back, guiding you out of the confines of the party and to the open air of the street. He led you to his place and around back, pulling two lounge chairs next to his pool closer to each other.
That night, thanks to the alcohol buzzing in your system, you confessed more about your home life and your feelings around it. Joel was surprised, given the picture-perfect image your father paints for everyone, but he was comforting as always. Even as far as offering you his spare room if you ever needed a break.
That’s when you knew you were done for. Never in your life had you wanted to just kiss someone that badly. Let alone all of the thoughts that came along with it.
Harboring this crush for your dad’s friend, fifty plus and a father himself, you attempted to keep things growing closer when you came back. Friendly, polite, reciprocating any amount of flirty banter he threw your way. Even initiating it yourself.
You were so incredibly into Joel Miller. And returning home this time, you decided it was high time you acted on those feelings.
The noise of the bustling party dies down enough for your dad to introduce the game, as if the attendees haven’t been participating for nearly as long as you’ve been alive. But your dad loves the attention on him, cracking jokes that make you roll your eyes while everyone else gives him a laugh. Always so focused on himself. How everyone else sees him. Image obsessed enough to forget to assign anyone as a Secret Santa to his own daughter but not forgetting to give her someone to gift to.
Granted, you weren’t that upset about who you’d drawn.
Watching from afar, you see Joel survey the empty space under the tree, only the deep cherry red skirt laid out on the hardwood. Nothing for him. Everyone opens their presents, laughter and excitement bubbling across the room as the point of the game begins. Partygoers start to guess their gifters, hoping to nail down their Secret Santa in one go. Conversations are struck up as people meet their pair, ‘thank you’s exchanged along with the gifts. Joel observes from his spot with a few of your neighbors, also friends with your dad, and the sight of him shifting his weight on his feet is enough to draw up the courage to approach him.
Crossing the room, flashes of him checking you out, lingering in conversations with you about work and your new apartment in the city, seeking you out each time you visit home flood your mind, reassuring your choices the closer you get to him. The closer you get to completely jumping into the deep end, the last few steps teetering you at the edge.
Slowing to a stop next to him, a finger of yours gingerly taps his strong shoulder a few times, pulling his attention away completely. Joel turns his body to face you, away from others to solely focus on you in front of him. The subtle sign of his attraction to you has your nerves tingling, clearing your throat when he speaks up in greeting.
“Hey there, sweetheart. Y’alright?” he asks, eyebrow raised. Always so goddamn sweet.
You sigh, a tinge dramatic but attempting to sell the dismay and toying with the flute glass in your hand. “Lame surprise, but I’m your Secret Santa and I stupidly left your gift upstairs. It’s a bit obnoxious to bring down so d’you mind coming up to open it and you can grab it at the end of the night?”
Joel agrees with a jolt of nervous excitement down his spine. Shuddering out the feeling subtly, he clears his throat and nods, awaiting your lead. He thinks he catches the slightest drag of your eyes up and down his body, lingering at the expanse of his shoulders and the sliver of his chest that is exposed from the two undone buttons of his red flannel.
When no one’s paying attention, you bring Joel upstairs into your old room that you’re staying in while you’re back in town for the holidays. He stands around a bit awkwardly, sticking out like a sore thumb with his broad shoulders stretching his red flannel, thick thighs straining deliciously against the perfectly worn material of his Levi’s. Stark against the frilly softness of your room, with its bright white furnishings, and feminine touches. He’s all man. Nothing like the guys your age who think they’re like him.
Joel glances about the room before he asks, “So, what was so difficult to get under the tree, sweetheart? You didn’t have to get me anything so major.”
“I wanted to. I mean, noticed you eyeing what I got you for a while so figured the least I could do was give it to you…” Joel’s face twists up in confusion, perplexed by the riddled clue before you’re standing in front of him, reaching to the side of your plaid skirt and dragging down the zipper. Joel stutters out nonsense at your actions, lifting his hands in surrender.
“Doll, I think—you don’t—” His mumblings die in his throat when you drop the material to your ankles, revealing red satin panties. When you turn around, a bow sits at the top of your ass, tying up the material to stay on your hips while elasticated bands run along the outline of your cheeks to connect to the crotch. Very little of your bum is covered, showing off the supple flesh to Joel. He’s rendered speechless, averting his gaze after a second too long of staring, the mumblings starting up again.
“S’not a good idea, shouldn’t be up here right now…” Joel looks around, looking over his shoulder toward the door. One of your hands reaches up to gingerly cup his chin, turning his flushed face to yours again. His pupils are blown wide, eyes darkened with desire. Your own gaze flicks down between the two of you, smirking at the bulge growing at the crotch of his jeans. So desperately trying to fight against what he really wants. Even when you’re serving it up in a pretty little package.
He makes no movement toward the door, which you take as a sign of letting go of at least some of his apprehension. Fingers grip the hem of your sweater, pulling it up and over your head, discarding it on your carpet along with your skirt.
Matching red satin material, the bra you’re wearing has a similar structure to your panties. Held up with straps and the usual clasps at the back, the front is a large gift bow, pulled tight when you tied it earlier this evening to push up the flesh of your breasts. One tug at the tail end of both the ribbons, the one at your chest and at your ass, would fully expose you to Joel. Something you’re desperate to propose to him.
“Aren’t you gonna unwrap your present, Joel?” Picking up each of his hands in yours, you guide one to your lower back and one to your chest, coaxing his fingers to wrap around the ends of the bows. “Or do you not like your gift? I thought you wanted this…”
“No, no, no. I like it. I really fucking like it, sweetheart, I just…Everybody’s downstairs and—”
“I can be quiet. I’m a good girl, Joel.”
That flips a switch in him, hearing those words from you. His eyes darken further, pink tongue poking out to wet his lips. A burning stare combs over you, head to toe, alighting flames in your gut that lick against your insides. Heat crawls across the back of your neck, pooling in your collarbone, and craving oozes between your ribs and between each of your vertebrae. Joel’s right hand lifts from his side, skating up the length of your left arm and leaving goosebumps rising in its wake. Fingertips ghost over the strap of your bra, down to the center of your collarbone, and sitting there. That lasts only a second before his long, thick fingers wrap around the base of your throat, raising his loose grip to settle underneath your jaw.
The silence is heavy, airy breaths the only sounds passed between the two of you. His hand at your neck coaxes your head to tip back, staring up at him looking down at you. A flicker to your lips. A low, curious hum. Arousal pools in between your thighs as you wait with bated breath for something, anything to happen.
“You’re dangerous, doll.” His whisper is coated in lust, his gaze greedy as it drinks you in once again.
“I’m a gift,” you correct sweetly, feigning innocence as a smirk grows on your face at his dark chuckle.
“A gift that keeps on giving?” he questions. His hand twists to allow his thumb to find your bottom lip, dragging across its glossy, cherry surface.
“I guess you’ll have to find out…” Your mouth stays open after speaking, tongue slipping out to lick the tip of Joel’s thumb. He presses his finger further, pushing between your lips as you welcome it, sucking gently. Joel sighs, shoulders relaxing while his eyes flash with need.
“Christ…” he hisses under his breath, shaking his head subtly before clearing his throat. Speaking sternly, unwavering, he says, “Can I unwrap my present, babydoll?”
His thumb leaves your mouth with a quiet pop, hand finding its place again at the slack of the bow at your chest, other arm wrapping around to find the bow at your ass. A gentle tug moves the satiny smooth material a few centimeters, not enough to pull it fully undone.
“All yours, Joel. Picked out ‘specially for you.” Joel smirks at your candied reply, eager to give him exactly what he’s been wishing for. What you’ve caught him staring at the last few times you’ve come back home. What you have been wanting for just as long, if not longer.
“Such a sweet girl. Beautiful girl.”
The words send a tingle down your spine, stoking the flames inside of you. Your eyes stay trained on Joel’s face while his fingers draw the bow at your chest undone, the lengths of material hanging at your sides and exposing your breasts. He licks his lips at the sight of your pebbled nipples, rolling out a stifled groan from his chest.
“Fuck, baby…S’pretty.”
Joel’s hands fan across your lower back, holding your hips against his, pressing his bulge into your covered mound. His broad frame folds forward, draping you backwards in his arms as his mouth attaches to your chest. Humid, open-mouthed kisses are littered across your skin, nips taken at the tender flesh of your breasts. Closing his lips around one of your nipples, he sucks strongly, pulling a whimper from your throat.
“Thought you could be quiet, doll?” he rasps, raising an eyebrow as he looks up at you from your sternum.
Nodding furiously, you pout your lower lip out, whispering back, “I can be, I will be. I promise.”
“You promise? Don’t make promises you can’t keep, baby.” Joel stands up straight, pulling you with him to press against his torso. Catching your lips in a deep kiss, Joel breathes a sigh into your mouth, melting his tongue against yours and drinking in the taste of you.
Dripping with saccharine sugar. Coated with syrupy goodness, plump and succulent like a maraschino cherry. A toothache, or maybe even a heartache waiting to happen.
He’s fucking screwed, but damn if it doesn’t feel good as he nails himself to his own persecution from whoever may find out about this.
Handfuls of your undulating curves fill his palms as he kisses you, groaning into your mouth as he grabs at the swell of your ass. Silky satin brushes against his hand, reminding him of the other part of his present to unwrap. Pulling away from your mouth with one last lick of your candied taste, he has the mind to imagine what the rest of your flavors all across your body might be.
Joel turns you in his arms, back flush to his chest as he grinds his bulge against the lustrous fabric, smirking to himself as you whimper quietly, so hushed he can barely hear it over his heartbeat thudding in his ears. Lips coast over the shell of your ear, nibbling your lobe before pressing a kiss right below.
“Can I undo your other pretty bow, babygirl? Unwrap the rest of my present?” Joel nips again when you breathe out consent. He walks you closer to the bed, hitting your knees against the frame before he takes one step back, touch still lingering on your skin. From behind you, he sighs appreciatively as he drinks in your form, licking his lips as his eyes devour you.
Pinching the ribbon between his thick fingers, he flicks it against your skin, satisfied with the way you react with goosebumps raised. One gentle tug unravels it all, exposing your cheeks to him fully and with the drop of the material from between his fingertips, your panties fall to the floor. One hand wrapping around your thigh, Joel coaxes you to step out to the side with it, kicking the fabric from your ankle.
He kneels behind you, pressing his lips against the swell of your ass. Flooded with the scent of your skin, vanilla and cinnamon, the smell of Christmas. Nose smashed into the supple flesh, teeth sinking into the curve, a gentle bite stealing another taste of you. A curse is mumbled against you, a sweet kiss pressed on the tiny birthmark on your ass, tongue tracing into the fading bite mark.
“Joel…” you whine above him, hand reaching back and nimble fingers tangling into his messy, gray curls.
“I know, doll. Got lost there for a second. You’re so perfect…”
He sighs again, standing up with a quiet crack in his joints. A blatant reminder of the difference between you two. Young versus old. Sprightly versus verging on doddering. Even if he is eager, there’s no denying the difference.
There’s no doubt in your mind that Joel’s about to be more of a gift to you than you are to him. The way he’s touching you, delicate worship before he’s even gotten to what he truly wants, taking his time despite the pressure of the party downstairs. Serves as a reassurance that he wants this as much as you do, wants to take his sweet time if this is going to be his only chance.
You pray to god it isn’t. Even before you’ve even laid eyes on his cock, you just know. He’s going to fuck you senseless. Ruin every other man for you.
In a blur, he guides you to fall forward onto the mattress, hooking fingers to remove your panties from your other ankle while you scoot toward the center. He finds solace between your legs, propping your hips up into a kneeling position to give him easier leverage. 
“Think this might be my favorite present I’ve been given, doll. So fucking gorgeous. Looking delectable…Can I have a taste, darling? You as sweet as you seem?”
Your head is turned sideways, laying against the plush comforter, opening your mouth to whisper to him in the same moment he swipes his tongue through your folds, groaning into your inner thigh before he dives back in, working to devour you like a man starved, quenching his thirst on your arousal. Flicking his tongue against your pearl, coated in your translucence, suckling at it with pure need. Turning to press the front of your face into your bedding, it muffles your moans and whines, raising in pitch as he fucks your tight cunt with his strong tongue, lapping at you with the same fervor he’d lick the color from a candy cane.
“Fuck, Joel, fuck fuck fuck!” you shout in a scouring voice, scratching your vocal chords together with a strain. Curling your fingers into the softened, washed fabric, you gasp when one of his solid fingers slips into your walls. He groans, holding back his louder reaction to your gripping walls, hypnotized by the way you even stretch around his fingers when he adds another.
Head against your thigh, he studies the way you take his middle and ring fingers, the velvety slick of your pussy, and the spongy spot he finds, curling his digits to press into it and watch you squirm helplessly from the sensitive pleasure.
“Talkin’ all well mannered and pretty. So quiet and polite all the time. With your ‘yes’sir’s and ‘please’s and ‘thank you’s. You think about saying those to me while you’re under me like this?”
“Yes, yes’sir. All the fucking time. Every time I—I looked at you, felt myself…felt myself gettin’ so fucking wet. Was always dripping around you, waiting for something to happen. For you to take me so I can be a good girl for you, sir,” you confess, obedience and need sitting every word so prettily into his ears. “M’so—Fuck m’gonna come, Joel.”
He nods slowly, taking last looks at your cunt before he moves his fingers in and out quicker, dipping his chin down for his mouth to find your clit against, lapping at your dripping wetness and sucking hard. At the next press of his fingers against that spot inside of you, your vision grows blurred, white haze painting everything with a dreamlike filter. You bite into the linen fabric of your comforter, gagging yourself to keep quiet as you come, digging the balls of your feet to the mattress to push yourself away from Joel who continues to work you through it. He grabs at you, tugging you back to get his fill until you sob, overstimulation drawing tears up to the corners of your eyes.
“All kept and composed and ladylike. Been taught to behave, haven’t you? Bet you fucking love to be such a little slut. Anybody ever let you? Such a dirty girl, aren’t you, babydoll?” Joel’s voice sounds distanced at first, senses falling back into place in your body as you come down completely. His work-worn hands coast over your body, roughening against your soft skin like sandpaper moving with the grain. Little resistance but catching in places it favors.
“Just—Just for you, Daddy.” It slips out smoothly from your mouth, the weight of the title heavy against your tongue in the same way you imagine his cock would feel. Filling. Satisfying.
Joel rises slowly from where he’s bent behind you, letting one leg fall behind him as he stands, the other propped on the bed. His eyes narrow in on yours, lips parted and tongue darting out as he replays what you said.
Daddy.
First, you’re already on his mind and years younger, yet he couldn’t stop picturing you in this exact position. Next, you’re the one to make the first move, dragging him away from this Christmas party and presenting him with a Secret Santa gift that feels way out of the budget. You’re priceless. And now, you’re laid out for him, already nearly at the level of fucked out from him only using his mouth and fingers, and you’re fucking calling him Daddy.
Best Christmas of his goddamn life.
“Now, darlin’, were you saving that to be the cherry on top of the cake? ‘Cause that’s just about the sweetest thing. My pretty lil’ babydoll saying she’s Daddy’s dirty girl,” he scoffs in disbelief, shaking his head while his fingers work his button open on his jeans, dragging the zipper down against his throbbing bulge. “Gonna have to be quiet, yeah? Gotta keep your sweet mouth closed while Daddy fucks you, doll.”
“I’ll be quiet, promise. Please, Daddy.” Your pleas widen Joel’s smirk, his tongue flicking out to wet his lips once again. He pushes his denim down with his cotton boxers in their wake, sighing softly when his hard cock is fully freed. His tip is aching and red, leaking precum and leaving a wet spot on his underwear. With one hand, he starts to slowly stroke himself, holding in a moan enough that it leaves his lips as a soft exhale.
“Good girl…” he mumbles, studying your form. “Move back toward me, babygirl. Hands behind your back.”
Complying with his direction, you inch back until Joel places a hand on your lower back. At that, you lay forward again, the side of your face pressing against the duvet as Joel steps back from the bed and searches the floor. A dribble of drool drips from the corner of your lips as you watch him, one large hand around his cock, spreading his precum along his length. Part of you has the mind to beg for him in your mouth, to completely disregard the need pulsating your cunt at the moment, and to feel his warm spend coating your throat as he finishes fucking it.
But you’re fucking selfish. This is also a gift for you, so win-win.
Pressing your wrists together at your lower back, you observe as Joel locates what he is looking for, standing up with a devilish smirk. Your panties.
He towers over you again when he steps back to you, one hand coasting over the curve of your ass, a gentle smack delivered that makes a quiet yelp escape from your lips. The same hand skims back up your skin, easily grabbing both of your wrists in his long fingers and holding them closer while he slips the silky material behind. In a quick motion, he has your arms tied together with a bow, a content smile on his face as he makes eye contact with you.
“Wrapped all up again, babydoll. Such a pretty gift for me.”
“Well you’ve got a pretty package, Daddy,” you reply with a mischievous giggle, earning a breathy chuckle from Joel behind you. He grips the knot of your makeshift restraint, tugging taut to arch your back and pull your hips closer. His other hand wraps around the base of himself, dragging the head of him through your drenched folds, circling your clit, and chuckling again at the jump of your thighs.
“Please, Daddy, I need—” you start pleading, muffled into linen before you’re cut off by the stretch of Joel’s cock filling your tight hole, a gasp escaping your lungs with a punch. Your mouth is stuffed with the duvet from your bite down, nursing your tongue against the material as he slowly presses into you, inch by inch. There’s an ever-so-slight pain candy-coating the pleasure, melting away to get to the gooey, oozing center that spreads over your entire body.
Pausing when he reaches the hilt of himself, Joel sighs, rolling his head back as he internally thanks whatever Christmas magic must be out there for this moment.
“So fucking tight, baby.” 
Your dampened whine shoots a wave of intense need throughout him, growling low as he holds your restraint tighter, dragging his hips back before he starts a punishing pace. Control escapes him, desire taking over his actions as he starts to properly fuck you. His cock teaching you how to take every single inch of it.
Messes of his name and your moans are stifled and stuttered into the comforter gagging you, chest hovering over the mattress as Joel holds tight to the knot in your panties.
“Can’t hold back any longer, baby, jus’—fuck—jus’ gonna take Daddy’s cock like a good girl, aren’t ya?” The only precision remains in the soft cracks of skin on skin, not loud enough to draw any attention from the party downstairs. Poppy carols play faintly in the background, the only other soundtrack being the vulgar mumbles slipping from Joel’s lips.
Drawing you closer and closer, the edge is tasted on your tongue, so close but barely in reach as the man behind you rocks his hips, the tip of his hard cock brushing that same spongy spot inside of you that he managed to reach with his fingers, bruising into your cervix with each snap.
At the next drag-out, Joel pulls away from you completely. When you whine with protest, he’s tugging you to stand up on your knees, whispering in your ear amid his quick movements, “Need to see your face when I make you come all over my cock…”
Before you can be left with any thoughts to a response, he’s flipping you onto your back, hands tied still, and tugging you near again. He steals a pillow from the top of your bed, shoving it under your hips to lift your pelvis, gifting himself the perfect angle to thrust into you again from the height he stands at.
The new angle punches out moans from your chest, Joel’s name littering the empty room as you try so hard to remain quiet.
“Shh, I know, doll, I know. Feels so fucking good, doesn’t it? Y’love bein’ Daddy’s little slut.” Nodding furiously, another louder moan leaves your mouth, brows knit together with worry as you hurtle closer and closer to the edge.
A large palm moves to cover your mouth, shaking his head slowly to remind you of your promise to be his good girl, his quiet girl. 
“Pleasepleaseplease, Daddy…” He feels the vibrations of your voice against his hand, the words muddled into slight nonsense from pleasure clouding your brain. Joel holds onto one of your legs, pulling it up to hook onto his shoulder and press forward to get deeper inside of you. The switch has you screaming into his palm, eyes squeezing shut as you squirm under him.
“Eyes on me, babygirl. Keep your eyes on Daddy.”
Joel’s hips pound into you, chasing his own climax. Your eyes snap open at his instruction, mouthing at his hand and moaning loudly behind it, nodding your head furiously. Your tight walls squeeze around his hard cock, his grunts held back to keep quiet despite the noise of the party downstairs growing in volume.
“Come on, doll. Come on my cock…Fuck, you gonna let Daddy fill up your pretty little cunt?” The quick, speechless nods answers his question, both of you toeing the edge.
There’s a moment when both of you seize up, muscles tense and eyes burning into each other’s. It only lasts a split second before it explodes with a pop, at the same second a champagne bottle pops downstairs. Joel breathes out your name, over and over, mingling with your whimpers of his name and Daddy switching back and forth in your mind. Interchangeable to you.
Pleasure fizzes over your bodies like bubbles in the flutes being filled, the bubbling aerations trickling up up up to your head, making you feel lighter than air as pure bliss overwhelms you. Tingles aftershock across your nerves, a shiver sent down your spine as Joel pulls out.
Quietly, he groans as he watches his excess spend drip out of you, mixing with your come and glistening against your folds. One thick finger swipes at the spot, pushing the swirl of you back inside of your walls.
A soft whimper slips from your lips and Joel’s eyes meet yours in a flash, a gentle smile stretching across your face. He coaxes you to sit up and unties your hands behind your back, slowly massaging your wrists with his thumbs and kissing where the skin rubbed against the fabric. The tender touches accompany the soothing, comfortable silence.
Redressing you, Joel attempts to tie the bows of your bra and panties, huffing softly in frustration. You giggle when he’s working on your bra, taking his chin gingerly between your fingers and turning his head to look at you. Leaning in, his lips catch yours in a sweet, sugary gumdrop kiss. 
It’s another moment before both of you are fully dressed again. You study yourself in the mirror above your dresser, smoothing your hair down. Joel steps up behind you, wrapping his strong arms around your waist and kissing your shoulder through the knit sweater. He turns you around to face him again, grinning shyly as his eyes comb over your face.
The two of you share another kiss, his calloused hand cradling your cheek when he pulls away.
“You gonna be under my tree again on Christmas day, doll?”
“Depends…Were you naughty or nice this year?” you counter, earning a quiet laugh from Joel as he shakes his head.
“Think what just happened has put me on the naughty list for a long time, babygirl. And you, too.” He shoots you a cheeky wink and you laugh, shaking your head as you lock your fingers together in front of you.
“I did actually get you something though…” you admit shyly, rocking back and forth on the heels of your feet.
Joel grins, eyes flicking down to your anxious hands. His thumb brushes against the skin of your cheek, eyes meeting yours again as he replies, “You have another gift for me? Didn’t need to do that, doll.”
“I mean…Kinda needed a backup plan if this whole thing didn’t work out.” A chuckle is shared between both of you before you continue, “Sorry for spoiling the whole guessing game of Secret Santa.”
“Darlin’, you could spoil any games for me if it ends up with this kinda surprise.” Joel smirks before stealing another quick kiss, pulling away when you step back to fish out the small, meticulously wrapped giftbox from the top right drawer of your dresser.
Handing over the square package, Joel’s eyes glitter with boyish excitement. The corner of his mouth pulls up to one side while his thick fingers slip under the creases of the paper to rip the tape, undoing the festive wrapping to reveal the lidded giftbox that he opens quickly. Inside, Joel studies the contents. Small triangles with rounded corners made from thin nylon plastic. A deep emerald green, all sitting like precious gemstones. His initials are branded into one side with gold paint, the flip side emblemed with the silhouette of an owl.
“Sweetheart…Thank you. These are real nice…” he speaks softly while he picks one up between his index and thumb, turning it between the tips of his fingers. “They’re perfect. Gonna be sad if I end up losing one of these like all my other picks.”
You smile sweetly, stepping closer again and resting your hands on his biceps, “Guess you’ll have to take good care of ‘em.”
As he looks at you, he mirrors your smile, sharing one more gentle kiss before whispering against your lips, “Can think of another something I have to take good care of.”
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taglist: @atinylittlepain @swiftispunk @joelsversion @mrsmando @ilovepedro @lovers-liability @deathwife @undrthelights @atticrissfinch @casa-boiardi @wannab-urs @ramblers-lets-get-ramblin @fishingforpike @msjarvis @walkintotheriveranddisappear @sugadolly @yazsos @peppesgirl @pastawench @addictedtotlou @brittmb115 @anoverwhelmingdin @spishsstuff @wolfbook87 @mswarriorbabe80 @harriedandharassed @decemberdolly @laiisleitte @fierce-bab @vickie5446 @pertinentpostmortem @livingdeadmaria @sullyosully @bitchwitch1981 @its-nebuleuse @marini03 @piercethevic03 @joeandpedrosimp @planet-marz1 @txtattoostark @jrosie25 @thereaperisabitch @tbniarq @vee-bees-blog @spidermanfrog @belliezz @joelsflannel @cartoon-garbage04 @bianqueee04 @nostalxgic @xyzstar @cumberpegg @b00klvrs @burningnerdchild
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SMUT!!! Minors dni!! Dry humping, slight groping, somnophilia, ‘just the tip’ trope (it’s not gonna be just the tip🤭), unprotected PinV (wrap it before you tap it), breeding kink, slight use of daddy/mommy, cream-pie. Cursing. I don’t write smut very often so apologizes if it’s not very good. Happy valentines day🤭🫶🏼
Thinking about Baby daddy!Miguel O’Hara who insisted that you take the bed in his room after you suggested to sleep in Gabi’s room, swearing you wouldn’t fall off her twin bed despite both of you knowing you move way too much in your sleep to stay on that thing comfortably all night.
Baby daddy!Miguel who wouldn’t take no for an answer, resulting in you setting up shop in his room. Leaving the room right before you were about to sleep to get a glass of water, only to see your 6’9 ex trying to squeeze himself into his couch with a blanket and pillow. You weren’t sure if you wanted to laugh at the sight or not but you sure as hell felt the ache in your chest while you watched him twist and turn in an attempt to not fall off while also trying to find a comfortable position. With a begrudging sigh, you told him, “come on, get in here.” while nodding towards his room.
Baby daddy!Miguel that slept on the right side of bed, while you on the left. Both with your backs facing away from each other, but you both forgot how much you both move in your sleep, and despite not having slept in the same bed in 9 years, your bodies have somehow gotten themselves into a spooning position sometime in the middle of the night as you both slept.
Baby daddy!Miguel who had only been with a handful of women since your break up, and with his new refound love for you, couldn’t help himself but start to get hard in his sleep. The feeling of your ass pressing against his cock only made it worse.
Baby daddy!Miguel who let out quiet whimpers and groans when he slowly started to rut his hips into yours. Now half awake and mind hazy, and he knows he should stop but the silent whine that fell from your lips and the way your hips roll back so your ass meets his groin again keeps him going.
Baby daddy!Miguel who had to bite down on his lower lip to keep himself from groaning too loud so you don’t wake up as he dry humps you like he did after a frat party 10 years ago. Dipping his head and planting soft wet kisses on the back of your neck as his hands slowly drag themselves up and down your body, your hips, your ass, your tits, wherever they can grab.
Baby daddy!Miguel who almost creams his pants when he hears you sleepily call his name in that breathy and high-pitched voice you always got when you’re hot and bothered. Feeling like he was dreaming when he asked if you wanted him to stop and you said no.
Baby daddy!Miguel who couldn’t stand not being inside of you any longer, but he didn’t have any condoms since he hasn’t been seeing anyone recently. So with the most whiney desperate tone you’ve ever heard this man speak in your whole 12 years of knowing him, he asked, “let me put in just the tip please?” And who were you to refuse?
“Porfa amor, just the tip I promise.” You never thought you’d find yourself humping up against Miguel like a bunch of horny teens again, yet here you were, in his bed with his hard-on pointing at your backside, you’ve never been more thankful then at that moment your daughter had to participate in the soccer teams sleepovers then you did now. (Please baby,)
You couldn’t take it much longer either, never feeling so overheated in a tank top and a pair of his boxers that fit you like oversized shorts. Why did you both have to sleep half naked? You quickly nodded your head, glancing over your shoulder to get a peak at Miguel as you panted out, “okay, okay just the ti-“ but you didn’t even get to finish the full sentence before Miguel flipped you both so you were on your back as he hovered over you, one hand supporting his weight while the other grabbed the boxers and your panties to tug them off of you. Your hips rising to help assist him, kicking them to the side as he takes off the pair of boxers he was wearing before his hand came down to pump his cock a few times, lining it up to your cunt as his lips met yours to swallow your whines.
“Fuck, I’ve missed this pretty pussy…” He groans as he finally sinks the head into you, his lips dipping into the croak of your neck as you let out a small hiss. Despite it only being the first two or so inches you couldn’t help whimper at the stretch he provided, you’ve truly forgotten how big he was. “Shh, shh, I know mami, no one takes care of you like I do…” He cooed, his hand running through your hair as he leaves sloppy kisses on your neck, and whether you knew it or not he was right, both in bed and in general. “Let daddy take care of you…”
“Mig-fuck-“ You moaned as your eyes fluttered shut, your hips bucking up to get some more of him in you. He must have read your mind, pulling out fully before sinking himself into your heat again, a bit deeper this time. “So good-Miguel.”
“Yo se, mami, yo se… he didn’t fuck you like I do huh?” He asked between pants, each thrust filling you more and more. You were too busy moaning to answer, so you opted to nod instead . “Fuck your so pretty like this cariño… might have to fuck another baby in you.” (I know, I know…) (sweetie)
“Fuck Miguel-I’m gonna-“ With one final thrust, he finally bottoms out, making the knot in your lower stomach come undone. Wave after wave pulsing through you as you squirm underneath him, his orgasm soon follows. Pumping his seed deep inside your used cunt, his thrusts grow sloppy as he helps ride you both through your orgasms.
When he finally pulls out you couldn’t help but let out a small whimper at the sudden loss of him, only left with the feeling of him dripping out from between your legs. You barely got time to catch your breath before his hand went to your hips and turned you over so you were on all fours.
“You thought we were done? No way sweetie. I finally got you back, we’re going all night.”
Thank god you were on birth control.
Part 5.5<
Part 6.5<
Not proofread.
Word count: 1.1k (girl idk how that happened either)
Taglist: @famouscattle @strawberryjuice9 @loser-alert @maomaimao @franceseca-the-1st @ginnysculture @mishaglass @wusyanmee @mangoslushcrush @queerponcho @bunnibitez @miguelzslvtz @migueloharastruelove @dahehow @sinners-98-world @othersideoftheparadise @toyfortoji @yeshajane @yvesbi @hanjisgf @deljojeisbackagain @safixiovi @emmalandry @maxinemus3 @lauraolar14 @aaaaslaaaan @kenz-ee @esmedelacroix @whattheshock @migueloharasoulmate @syler-griffin @comeonatmebruh @xwonderlandresidentx @m4dyy @mcmiracles @the-pan-liquid @lilbrababe99 @jxstanemo @badbitchhour @freehentai @sillysillygoofygoose @nj452896 @jadeloverxd @faretheeoscar @miguelsfavwife @ce3stvu @scorpihoooe @blossomofbismuths @tomalymme @nxxav3rs3 @ilovespiderverseeee @ghost-lantern @saaaaaaaaaaaamiiiiiiiiiiiira @lavenderslemonade @rinnako @reirain @nommingonfood @miguelsfavwife @tomalymme @farrowroyale @beckberin-xo
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ceilidho · 3 months
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i can't stop thinking about Price being a regular at the place where you bartend. he always sits at the bar, but at the far end away from everyone else so that when you go to take his order, you're forced into this little, private bubble with him. he's just this big, looming presence in the room, elbows resting on the bar and making him look even wider, nursing a beer while flirting with you whenever you come by to check on him. probably way overtips too, to the point where you almost feel like you owe him because his tips alone pay your rent.
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sp0o0kylights · 10 months
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Indie horror filmmaker Eddie Munson, high off his first big (underground but notable) success, knows the movers and shakers of the film world have their eyes on him. 
They're just waiting to see if he was a one hit wonder before they open all the doors he's been trying to kick down. 
His next upcoming film is his chance, his shot at finally making it. Of being like Rob Zombie and the other creators he looks up to that masterfully blended metal and horror. 
This is his golden ticket. 
The project starts off smooth. His last success has greased the wheels, and things fall into place faster than ever before. 
He's got the best idea for this insane haunted house story, a true "mazes in mazes" type of deal with a queer twist. A real look at how a place can haunt a person just as easily as a ghost can.
 Everything's going swimmingly--until one of his leads drops out the day they're due to start shooting.
No call no show's, and later, Eddie will find out the guy got a last second call back to be a contestant on one of those Love Island bullshit romance gigs (and laugh his ass off when the main love interest takes one look at Billy Hargrove and goes on a five minute rant about ugly mullets on national television) but right now? 
He's fucked. 
He's called in every favor he has for this film. Maxed out every credit card he owns, tapped every contact, got on his hands and knees and begged his rising star journalist best bud to help him market it. (Which Nancy agreed too, for way less cash than she should have.) 
 Eddie can't get anyone on the phone, much less find a replacement actor and the amazing place they rented, that is so dark and wonderfully eerie, is booked out the rest of the year as an AirBnB. 
If he doesn't film now, he loses it all.
Cue the other lead, unknown theater actor Steve Harrington, watching his hair pulling, tire kicking, 'cursing and hopping while holding a toe' mental breakdown and asks why Eddie himself doesn't act in it. 
"Just go full Kevin Smith man. Act and direct." He says, with an easy grin. 
Jeff, Eddie's tried and true videographer, trades glances with Gareth and Grant (Eddie's long used special effects and makeup team, who double for about twelve other jobs because they're also his best friends and they're all in this together, make or break.)
"We don't really have a lot of other options." Gareth hedges. "You're already using me and Grant as background characters." 
Eddie, hands fluttering around his face as though trying to wave away this entire situation, squeezes his eyes shut and lets out a pained hiss. 
"Fine, fine!" He announces with the air of a man running towards a fire. "Fuck it, this is our one shot and so help me I will be shooting it!" 
Steve politely hides a laugh with a cough. 
"Chuckle all you want big boy, I'm going to tragically romance you so hard people will forget both of our characters actually live." Eddie snarls.
Steve, the handsome bastard, just winks.  "Looking forward to it." 
Eddie blushes, but hides it with a surge of frantic energy, conveyed by lots of yelling and moving and getting the ball rolling. 
Two days later, Steve would give the performance of a lifetime down on his knees, covered in a literal pound of fake gore, booty shorts and nothing else as he sobbed about how a lover could become a home. His hands clawed at Eddie's jeans before resting a tear stained face on a slim leg as he bent his body towards Eddie like it hurt to be away from him. 
Eddie would later receive equal praise in his own acting during the scene, with the world and every reporter in it asking how he conveyed an otherworldly panic so beautifully throughout Steve's performance. What was he thinking, to evoke those expressions on his face? 
The way his own pale hand, unmarred by blood and acting as a metaphor for the plot, would come to stroke Steve's cheeks.
Eventually he'd come up with a smooth polished answer that cheekily pleased his audience, but nothing would ever come close to the truth. 
("Eddie I've known you since grade school." Jeff said that night, a scant few hours after they'd wrapped. "You can act man, but not like that." 
Eddie made a wild "shut up" gesture, looking frantically over his shoulder before admitting; "You saw how close his face was to the prince of darkness!? I was seconds away from popping a boner next to his lips, in front of the 4K camera!” 
Eddie bounced into Jeff’s face so he could hiss: “He fucking had his chin on my thigh, Jeff, and I am only a man. A mere mortal!" 
"So we're gonna unpack all of that later." Jeff said finally, when he'd managed to get his mouth working and Eddie back out of his personal space. "But dude, we've talked about you calling your dick the prince of darkness." 
Eddie flipped him off.) 
One year later and critics named Corroded the best horror film of the year, praising the camera work, practical effects, and how there wasn't a soul alive who was surprised to hear Eddie and Steve were dating after their explosive on screen chemistry.
No one ever quite understood the prince of darkness jokes or why Steve mentioning it made Eddie blush, but that was a secret to find out later. 
Today on WIP’s I have no intention of writing, indie horror movie AU!
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time-woods · 4 months
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things i forgot to post (mainly carma/scarab stuff))
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gurugirl · 2 months
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Ex-Boyfriend's Dad!Harry
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ex-boyfriend's dad!harry x reader - forbidden relationship au
Series Warnings: explicit content, smut (including anal, rough blow jobs), age gap, angst, daddy kink, dom/sub dynamics, spanking, choking, slight degradation, use of small implements (collar and leash, anal plug)
Series Summary: You break up with your boyfriend and confide in his dad about some very personal issues you had with his son. And Harry thinks he can help.
Based on these requests: Here Here Here Here Here (there are more in my #into the drafts tag but y'all get the hint - this was heavily requested 🖤)
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Part 1 (8.2k words) TEASER
After you break up with your boyfriend, his dad, Harry, stops by your apartment to drop off a few of your things. But that's not all he's there to bring you.
Part 2 (10.8k words) TEASER
Harry wants to show you what you've been missing if you'll let him. OR The filthy smutty one
Part 3 (8.3k) TEASER
You get to try things with Harry you never had the chance to before but the more you get to know him the more of him you want. And that's a problem.
Part 4 (10k) TEASER
You and Harry are both missing each other and despite Tyler's sudden interest in talking to you, Harry's determined to finish what you both started.
divider by @firefly-graphics
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alexsays-no · 2 months
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Context: Regulus is Harry's art teacher, James is the one that picks him up and has a huge crush on Regulus, and Harry, being Harry, tells him.
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This will be a series.... I think.
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sukunas-wife · 2 months
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Modern day High School Sukuna buys you cookies that school run shop sells in the morning.
He hates the taste of them and hates spending money there because Satoru Gojo is always up there flirting with the student staff and asking if he really enjoys eating those shit cookies. One time Ryomen punched him straight in the face and bailed before Satoru could do something
The next day when Sukuna when to buy you shitty cookies Satoru made a snide comment about how he should watch his shit or you’d be next on his list of- then Sukuna punched him again
They got into a full on brawl and the student shop had to be closed for repairs. Sukuna was suspended temporarily with Gojo
The next day on your way to school you were kinda sad you wouldn’t see him or your morning cookies until you made it to the gate and there he stood in his casual clothes leaning against the pillar. Hands tucked into his pockets and bag hanging on his wrist while he stared up at the sky bored out of his mind. He felt your stare and his eyes moved to look at you before his head fell to face you, he had that smug smirk when he stood up, “Couldn’t let my brat starve.”
Then he hands you the bag from the mart that had two glazed donuts and a carton of banana milk.
Tags: @sad-darksoul @satorisgirl @bontensbabygirl @lupita97lm @queen-luna-007 @venus-seeks @sakuxxi @mercymccann @certainduckanchor @najiiix @bakugou-katsukis-wife @amitiel-truth @souyasplushie @mylovelessnightmare @ynjimenez z @dolliira @bofadeezs
Comment Tags: @simpforyoubitch @domainofmarie @ilovemybabies378 @cyder-puff
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fanaticalthings · 2 years
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local billionaire gets cyberbullied by his 15 children
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mountainsandmayhem · 1 month
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Shhh...Just A Little Bit More
DBF!Joel x Fem!Reader
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18+ MDNI
Masterlist || Part Two || Part Three (Soft Version) || Part Three (Spicy Version)
Summary: Joel catches you somewhere you shouldn't be, twice. CW: all p no plot! age gap, spanking, dirty talk, parental guilt, brat and brat tamer, sub/dom dynamics, edging and degradation kinks if you squint AN: I found the bottom right photo on Pinterest and @mermaidgirl30 said it screamed DBF!Joel. I have never written for DBF before so please be kind. Dividers by @saradika-graphics - thank you for all your amazing graphics and dividers, I'd be lost without your page.
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“Let go of me, you fucking psycho!” You’re practically yelling over the music of the club, wrenching your arm from Joel’s strong grasp. The security guard approaches and Joel shoots him a glare so dark that he holds his hands up and steps back. “What the fuck, Joel?”
“What are ya doin’ here, sweetheart” he demands, one eyebrow raised. 
“I’m working!” You stomp your foot and then get right up in his face, pointing a finger at him. Joel Miller, your dad’s best friend, hanging out in a strip club one town over. “The real question is, what are YOU doin here?” 
You’re only a bottle girl, you don’t get on the stage and have no intentions of stripping. It’s good money, great money actually. At 22 you’re already well on your way to having a down payment on a condo, it’s just too bad you’re having to lie to your parents. 
“With my crew, they picked the place. I’m takin’ you home. Go get your coat.” He crosses his arms over his chest, staring at you sternly. The music is pounding in your ears, the air thick with smoke. Even in the dimly lit hallway you can see the way Joel’s eyes rake over your body, taking in the very tiny Jean shorts and bralette you’re wearing. 
“I’m not going anywhere with you,” you spin and flip him the bird as you walk away. You know he’s staring so you give a little extra wiggle of your ass as you walk away. Joel Miller, staring at your ass. The fourteen year old inside you does a happy dance - that version of yourself had a tiny crush on him. Too bad he’s a stuffy, grumpy asshole now. You miss the fun, young Joel. He used to do cannonballs in the pool with you and his daughter Sarah. She was a few years older than you, but he was much more fun than your father. But now? Now he’s a certified prick. Thinking he can drag you away like some sort of barbaric caveman. He’s not your dad, even if he was, you’re an adult. 
When you finish your shift you head outside and pull up your Uber app, men often want to do shots with you so even though you never get drunk at work you also don’t drive there. 
See, Joel. I’m responsible. 
“Let’s go,” his voice is deep, still angry with you. You didn’t see him waiting by the door so you jump. 
“Jesus. You fucking scared me.” 
“Watch your language. Get in the truck.” 
You grumble under your breath that he should kiss your ass as he holds the door open for you. He stalks around to his side of the truck while furrowing his brow and shaking his head. 
“Got somethin’ to say young lady?” 
“Ya,” you say, slumping in the seat and putting your white vans on his dashboard, “kiss my ass.” 
He presses his lips in a thin line, you can see him eyeing your long toned legs from your peripheral vision before the engine roars to life and he speeds off down the gravel highway. 
When you pull up to the house he hops out of the truck and is right on your heels as you open the door. 
“I’m fine, Mister Miller.” You say with a sneer. You know he hates that, he has told everyone he’s ever been introduced to to call him Joel. 
Joel steps into your parents house and calls your dad’s name. “What the fuck! Joel! Shut up!” 
He calls for him again and your dad comes stumbling from his room, tying his robe around his sleeping attire. “Joel? What’s going on?” He flicks on the light, squinting against the brightness. “It’s 3 in the morning.” 
“Just thought I’d let you now know that the guys at work wanted to go to The Skin tonight. Caught your daughter working there.” 
“Are you fucking kidding me, Joel?!” You yell, pushing at his broad chest. Your dad stands there stunned. Eyes wide and mouth agape. He thought you were working as a nurses aide overnight at the hospital on weekends. He’s even seen you leave the house in scrubs. All a part of the web of lies you have weaved. 
“Don’t speak to Joel that way,” your dad snaps. “Go to your room young lady. We’ll talk about this later.” 
“Kiss my ass, cowboy.” You practically spit at him as you stomp to your room. As you round the corner your mom is standing in the hallway clutching her crucifix necklace. You have a sudden urge to hiss at her with the way she’s looking at you, like you’re a disappointment. A sinner, the worst kind of person in her eyes. 
The next morning was the fight of all fights with your parents. Your dad tried to ground you, your mom started shoving church pamphlets at you. They wouldn’t even fucking listen. 
“IM NOT A STRIPPER,” you yelled at them over and over again. 
Finally, when the yelling ceased, your dad said in a very quiet anger, “young lady. I FORBID you from going there again. Is that clear? I don’t care if you’re 22 or 42, if you live under my roof, you live by my rules. You’re going to go to continue going to your university classes during the week, and on weekends you will be home. Studying. Helping your mother with the chores. You will go to bed at respectable hour. If you need money, you ask us. Is that clear?” 
You blink back tears and head to your room, slamming the door behind you. You are NOT quitting that job. 
When the next weekend rolls around you say goodnight to your parents at 10pm and head to your room. You worked it out with your boss to work the midnight to 4 am shift. So you wait - ear pressed to your door until you finally hear your parents go to bed. You sneak out the same way you’ve been sneaking out for years and run down the street with your newly embroidered denim shorts in hand to meet your Uber. 
You peel yourself away from the men and the booze around 2am to get some fresh air, exiting through the back to the dimly lit alley. You take a big inhale through your nose before you see it. The truck. Joel’s truck. And Joel. Leaning against the truck box, arms crossed, one foot up on the tire. 
You flip him off and then turn back towards the back entrance to the club. He’s on you so fast, grabbing the back of your bicep in his large hand. “You little brat. You aren’t supposed to be here.” 
“Read the shorts, MISTER Miller.” You say it as much venom as you can muster. 
His eyes rake down your body and you can almost feel them burning into you. It feels so good, you never want him to stop. Your pussy throbbed when he called you a brat and you wouldn’t be surprised if your light jean shorts hadn’t been soaked through already. When his eyes reach the pocket he sees ‘Kiss My Ass, Cowboy’ stitched in baby pink lettering and his grip tightens. 
He’s fucking furious with you. Furious that you’re here. Furious that other men get to see you dressed like this. Furious that he wants you so fucking badly. But mostly, furious because he knows you want him too and he’s a weak weak man when it comes to pretty little things like you. He yanks you back against his body and you let out a pained moan. 
“Don’t make me punish you,” he says coldly in your ear and you fight to stop your knees from buckling. 
“Don’t make promises you can’t keep,” you say breathlessly. 
Joel’s lips graze against the shell of your ear, hand gripping so tightly that you’re sure you’ll have bruises tomorrow. “So that’s what you want? You want me to punish you? Put you in your place? Huh?” 
You grind your ass back against him, “you would dare, Joel.” 
His other hand clamps down on your hip as he steers you to his truck, walking you around so no one can see the two of you. He opens the back door and pushes you forward until your legs are against the cold steel frame of the vehicle. “You don’t get to call me that. You call me Mr Miller from now on. Understood?” 
“Go fuck yourself, Joel,” you emphasize every vowel of his name, digging deeper. Pushing him. Pushing to see how far he’ll go. You get off on being a brat, and by the way his hard cock is pressing into your ass, he does too. 
He unbottons your shorts then lifts you slightly and pushes your upper body down onto the seat, the truck is high enough that your feet are dangling, ass stuck out for him. “Look at these slutty little shorts.” He tugs on the hem, your shorts now sitting just above your knees. Your pert ass is exposed to Joel and the night air. He tuts at the sight of you, “No panties. Little fuckin’ tease.” 
You whimper at his words, slick starting to coat your thighs. “You’re the one standing back there doing nothing.” You taunt. 
The cool night air spreads goosebumps across your skin, your clit twitches in anticipation of his touch. Other men have fucked you hard to get you to shut your mouth. And finally, FINALLY, you’re going to get fucked by Joel Miller. However, you grossly underestimated the different between the boys were with before and the man behind you now. 
His hand strikes your cheek hard and you let out a loud pained yell. “What the fuck, Joel!” 
“If you’re gonna be a brat,” his hand lands on your ass again, “you’re going to get a spanking.” His voice is harsh and rough as he hits you a third time. The sound of his skin on yours echoing through the cab of his truck. He hits you again, not caring about your cries of protest. 
You’ve never been spanked before and you’re thrown by your bodies reaction to it. At first you were shocked, then humiliated and then the pain and heat travelled to the base of your spine and you found yourself starting to get turned on. Arousal pools in your belly with each strike of his palm and when your pussy throbs the humiliation starts to creep back in. Are you supposed to be enjoying this so much, is this what Joel wants?
You bend your knees up, trying to make space between your bodies. One of his strong hands wraps around your ankles, pinning them to the back of your thighs as he spanks you again. 
“Stop! I’m sorry. I’ll - “ he strikes you again, harder than the last few times and there’s no more pain, every slap is full of pleasure. You let out a deep moan, your pussy practically gushing onto the leather seats. “Oh fuuuuck.”
Now that it’s turning you on it almost eggs Joel on. “Put your hands out in front of you,” he commands. Your arms shoot out, stretching them across the seat above your head. “Such a needy little slut. You’re drippin’ all over my fucking seat, baby girl.” He strikes you again and your arms flinch. “Keep them there.” 
Your ass is starting to get pink, his splotchy handprints covering it. The world around him starts to fade, all that he can see is you and your ass - and he wants to make it hurt. Then he wants to make it good. So very good. 
His strikes keep coming, he’s like a man possessed. “Stop, Joel. Please.” 
He drops your ankles, then uses his hand to spread your thighs apart, the denim biting into your knees. “Shhh…just a little bit more. Look at this messy pussy. You don’t want me to stop.” 
He hits you again and you start to hate how much he’s right. You don’t want him to stop, you’re on the verge of coming and he hasn’t even touched you yet. You’re sure the second he’s near your clit you’ll explode. 
Both of your cheeks are glowing red and Joel finally stops. You’ve both lost track of how many times he’s hit you. His large palm rubs the marks. You know you should keep your mouth shut, but fuck do you love to rile him up. 
“Are you done now? I have work to get back to.” 
Joel growls behind you. You hear the sound of his belt undoing, the leather whipping out from the demin loops. “I’m sick of your goddamn mouth, baby girl.” 
Your eyes widen in fear, stomach twisting up over the thought of him striking your sore ass with his thick leather belt. Your pussy, however, flutters in excitement. Slut, you think to yourself. 
You hear his buckle clinking, he grabs you by the hair and jerks your head back. “Open you mouth,” he says with a snarl. You obey him and he slides the folded up leather between your teeth. “Bite down on this. You can speak to me again once you’ve learned your lesson.” 
You press your teeth into the rough leather, waiting for his next move. His hand comes across the back of your thigh and it’s a whole different sensation. The pain shoots straight to your core, the walls of your pussy clenching harder than your teeth do as you whine out a high pitched squeal. On instinct your hands shoot back, knees bending to protect yourself from him. He steps back from you, without his heat you’re left in the cold air. 
“Arms up and legs down,” he says in an eerily calm voice. 
You whimper again, grinding your teeth against the leather of his belt before slowly peeling your arms and legs away from your body, returning to Joel’s desired position. You’re so wet that it’s staring pool along the leather seat of Joel’s truck, your hips slipping slightly. 
“Dirty little thing. I’m tryin to punish you and you’re sopping wet.” He steps forward and lays a loud sharp slap with perfect precision right across your sore thigh. 
You yelp again, whining as your lash line fills with tears. This is not what you thought would happen when Joel threatened to punish you. And you definitely didn’t expect to fucking love it. You’re so turned on that you feel dizzy. 
Joel’s lips come to your thigh. Light kisses and his scratchy facial hair peppering along your red hot skin. “Fuck me,” you say around the leather clamped between your teeth. 
Joel laughs into your skin, kissing along the handprints he’s left on your ass. You’re squirming underneath him, pushing your ass towards his face, desperate for him to make you come. His hands grip around your shorts and your whole body relaxes at the thought of him finally fucking you. “I need you to listen to me now, ok?” 
You nod fervently and he lets out an amused laugh. You arch your back at him invitingly, but instead of removing your shorts he yanks them back up. You moan out in protest as he lifts you down from the truck. His strong fingers work to do up your shorts before he spins you. You look like a wreck; mascara smudged under your eyes, cheeks pink, eyes glazed and dopey looking. Cock drunk and he hasn’t even given it to you. He grabs the belt and you release it for him. It’s killing him not to fuck you right here and now. 
His hand cups your chin, squeezing your cheeks and locking eyes with you. “Do you want me to fuck you?”
You try to nod but he’s gripping you so tightly. “Yea? Then you need to do what I say. Ok?” 
“Mm-hmm” 
“Go in there and quit. Then come back out here and I will fuck you so hard that you’ll feel it in your throat.” 
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Taglist:
@corazondebeskar @hiddenbabynyc @rainstorms-library @smutsmutslut @sullyrocky44 @keylimebeag  @pimosworld @casa-boiardi @pedritoferg @paleidiot @lorilane33 @pansexual-potatoes @baar-ur @jessthebaker @jasminedragoon @koshkaj-blog @pedroswife69 @strawberri-blonde  @none-of-this-makes-any-sense @iloveenya @javierpena-inatacvest @blazeflays @mermaidgirl30
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realizinau · 2 months
Note
This is an au i'm excited to see! Are they going to have any interactions with the other toys or the kids? Have a good time wherever you are!!
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Thank you!
Yep! Inside of the factory is like a weird little town or city for the toys that dwell within, so interaction between toys in different parts of the building is very frequent.
As for their interactions with the children, that will be elaborated on in a future post :3c
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Patchnotes 2/13/2024
Gave Catnap his Long Ass Tail back. Originally didn't have it because I thought it would be cumbersome for him in reality, but I have come to appreciate how iconic it is
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notafunkiller · 11 months
Text
love me like you paid me - co-written with @marvelouslizzie​
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Summary: You accompany businessman Bucky Barnes to all the events he has to attend, and you find yourself wishing he wasn’t paying you to be his date.
Pairing: businessman!Bucky Barnes x female reader
Warnings: 18+, age gap (the reader is 24, Bucky is 34), teasing, dirty talk, pet names, daddy kink, fingering, nipples play, oral sex, clit play, no condom (but they are both clean and the reader is on birth control), cursing, no mention of y/n 
Word Count: 11K
Bucky Barnes masterlist
A/N: @marvelouslizzie and I had a great time writing this story, and we really hope you will, too, while reading it.
Please, do not repost or translate without my permission!
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> I think I'll be late for a couple of minutes, I am very sorry. You can go inside, you just need to say your name.
You look at the text he sent you once again, to make sure you didn’t miss any details. The thought of going inside alone spikes up your anxiety even though you never met him before. Everything looks so fancy, and you are already feeling out of place.
So you decide to wait. It's better for appearances, anyway. You didn't properly establish the context of you being his plus-one before, and you don't want to make mistakes.
And it doesn't even take a long time. He arrives just five or six minutes later. You watch him get out of the car and look around before your eyes finally meet for the first time.
"I am so, so sorry for being late. But why are you standing here?" He says awkwardly looking at you from head to toe twice as he starts arranging his suit jacket.
“I thought it would be better if we go inside together. It wouldn't look too convincing if we came separately.”
He nods. "Smart. I'm sorry, I'm..." He pauses, unsure, and extends his hand. "You're very beautiful, thank you. I'm Bucky."
You offer him a smile while extending your hand and giving him your name. “Thank you. You’re looking very dapper yourself.”
He snorts. "Not thanks to me."
“Huh?” You raise an eyebrow in confusion.
"I meant my stylist." He explains, freeing your hand.
“Oh.” You feel awkward. You didn’t even think about that. “Yeah, but you are carrying it well.”
You see his cheeks getting red. "Thank you. Shall we go inside?"
“Yeah, of course.” You offer him your arm.
"I think I should be doing that." He does the same thing.
You feel so embarrassed for a second but take his arm anyway. “Sorry. I’m just nervous.”
“Don't be sorry." He gives the man at the entrance a smile before saying your names, and in no time, you are led to your table.
You take a look around, trying to be as subtle as possible. It’s even fancier than it seemed when you were waiting for him outside and people seem to know one another as they greet and talk to each other. You feel a faint pain in your stomach.
"You know… in case someone asks you, my three favorite things are eating my family and not using commas."
“What?” You feel so lost.
"My three favorite things are eating my family and not using commas." He repeats this expired joke he read online at some point. "You know, eating my family and eating, my family."
You suddenly snort, not expecting him to make a joke like this.
"I guess you can smile, and what a beautiful smile you have." He pauses and scrunches his nose as soon as he finishes the phrase. "I don't mean to be you know... I am not trying to...."
“You are not trying to what?” You’re still smiling because of his dad joke, totally unaware of why he’s trying to explain himself.
"To make you uncomfortable or something. I just wanted to help you feel better. I am surprised, though. Usually, models feel a little less nervous."
“Model?” You repeat, visibly confused. “I’m… I’m not a model.” Did they tell him you were a model?
"Oh, it explains the height." He lets out a deep breath.
“The height?” You can’t believe he actually said that. Like your height isn’t good enough for his standards. Probably, you aren’t good enough for his standard since you aren’t a model.
"Oh god, no." He groans. "That sounded terrible. I meant, models usually are very tall and look... different. I told them I don't want a model, but my team didn't quite listen. That’s why I said that."
“So you aren’t the one who specifically wanted a model?”
"God, no." He shakes his head. "I actually chose you." He scrunches his nose again. "That sounds even more terrible."
“I know you chose me. How do you think they found a photo of me to send you?”
Bucky snorts. "I should shut up."
“No, no. I mean…” You lower your voice a little to make sure no one hears you. “I was aware of what this is when I said yes. It’s fine.”
"I am making a fool out of myself, I am sorry."
“No, you are not. It’s actually helping me to relax because I was really worried about…” You stop yourself right before saying something stupid.
"Did I seem intimidating?"
“Yeah.” You quickly accept it because his choice of words is much nicer than what you were originally thinking. You expected him to be a pretentious asshole. Instead, he seems like he’s just as nervous as you are.
He smiles. "What would you like to drink?"
“White wine is fine.” It seems like a safe choice.
"I love wine." He smiles. "And to be honest, it’s the only thing I drink at those events. Oh, and champagne, of course."
“That also works, but I can’t have too much.”
"Want to order food before?"
“No, not because of that. I have an early work meeting tomorrow.”
"Oh, we can leave earlier." He immediately offers. "I don't stick much around usually, anyway."
“That’s not necessary, we can stay as much as you want. I’m already prepared for my meeting. I just don’t want to seem unprofessional tomorrow by looking like I have a huge hangover. I kinda need it to go well.”
"What do you do if you're not a model?" He asks with a smile, genuinely curious to find out more information.
“I am running my own bakery.”
"That sounds so awesome. Family business?"
“No. I actually started it pretty recently. Still learning how to manage a business and get clients.” You suddenly stop, feeling self-conscious. “Sorry. That must sound really silly to you.”
"Silly?" He tries to tuck back a few strands of his hair as he looks at you. "I want to know more. If you want to share of course. Maybe I can even help. I know how hard it can be, especially when you don't have experience. Do you have a partner?"
“No.” You can’t help but smile because he seems genuinely interested. “I’m doing it by myself. Or rather trying.”
"Wow, that must be exhausting and challenging. Do you have employers? How new..." he stops mid-sentence when the waiter comes. "Can you bring us some white wine, please?"
"What kind?"
You watch him as he casually orders a specific brand, then his eyes meet yours again. You realize he’s actually waiting for your answer. “I have one person that works with me.”
"Paying a salary must be hard."
“Yeah, money is kinda tight.” That’s the whole reason you accepted being his date tonight: you want to be able to pay Nicole’s salary, but you don’t say that.
"I'm sorry." He sighs. "Maybe I can help, though." He thinks about a donation or something, but he doesn't even know you or your business.
“You already are. Don’t worry about it.”
The waiter returns with the wine, asking you if you want to taste it, but Bucky gives him a polite smile after looking at you. "Thank you, but no need."
The man nods and starts pouring slowly.
When you taste the wine, you understand why he specifically asked for this one. It leaves a really gentle after-taste on your tongue.
"Do you like it?" He asks nervously as he takes a sip himself.
“Very much. Probably the best wine I have ever tasted.”
"I am so glad to hear that. But did you eat anything before coming here?”
“Ihm… No.”
"Then we should order. Excuse me," he calls the waiter again with a hand gesture.
While he is ordering food, you find the perfect moment to stare at him. He’s speaking in a way that shows he belongs here. He is kind yet commanding. You focus on his face and watch a strand fall on his forehead. He doesn’t pay any attention to it, just gently pushing it back, but you find yourself taking a deeper breath. His lips are full, his smile is gentle and his eyes are curious. That’s when you notice he is actually talking to you.
"Do you have preferences?"
You shake your head. You have no idea what preference he is talking about, but even if you did you are sure you would have no idea what to order in a place like this.
"Do you trust me with this?" 
“Yeah.” You quickly answer to cover the fact that you weren’t paying attention to his food choices. “Just no sea food, please.”
"Of course." He nods and turns his attention to the waiter again. "The same for her, please. Also a bottle of water."
*
It's already pretty late, and it's clear neither of you has much energy left, but you can't interrupt this conversation. You are trying to listen so you can be prepared if they ask you something.
"I agree, the market doesn't look good, but let's see if something changes once they apply the new policies," he says looking at both of you for a couple of seconds. "It's hard for new businesses, unfortunately."
You take a deep breath, knowing what he says is true and how it affects you. Still, you don’t comment on anything, just watching them.
Bucky leans in, laughing politely when the man cracks a bad joke, and you notice how a few  hair strands fall on the side of his face and forehead.
Before your mind can register what you are doing, you find yourself leaning towards him and pushing the hair back. Then you notice what you’ve just done and freeze. Your hand lingers on his hair.
He freezes too, mid-sentence, and looks at your hand, his neck getting so red in just a few seconds.
"Oh, look at that. Your girlfriend is taking good care of you." The man in front of you teases. 
“I’m sorry.” You try to retreat your hands as gracefully as possible so it won’t look suspicious. His hair is back in its place.
"Don't apologize." Bucky smiles, taking your hand into his. "She's always shy in public."
“I forgot for a second we are in public.” That’s not a lie. You really forgot your surroundings and how you were supposed to behave.
"What a beautiful girlfriend you have, Barnes."
You can feel your cheeks burning because of his words. You are not his girlfriend obviously, but will he point that out?
"She's also incredibly smart. You know, she started her own bakery a few months ago in this crazy market."
“Really?”
"Yes, with no help either. I'm really proud of her."
Did he just say he’s proud of you? Jesus christ…
“That doesn’t surprise me at all. You know why?” He’s directly asking you that question, and you just shake your head as in no. “Because he started his own company, probably around your age, too.”
"Michael..."
That you didn’t know. You had no idea how he got this rich, and hearing that makes you feel more hopeful.
“I’m just saying.” The man continues. “I can see why you like her. And she’s pretty lucky because she can get the best investment advice or tips on how to run a successful business from you.”
"Oh, trust me, I am luckier." He gives you the warmest smile you've ever received.
You have no idea what to say or do. Should you act like his girlfriend? Should you just smile and nod? That would be rude, wouldn’t it? You should return the compliment. You would definitely do that if he was your boyfriend. 
“Oh, I know how lucky I am,” you say with a smile.
Bucky takes a quick look at his watch. "Alright, I think we need to go. Tomorrow is a long work day. Hope you don't mind." He shakes Michael's hand.
"It was nice to see you."
You are glad it’s finally time to leave. You were getting worried about how much longer you would have to stay here. Not because of him. Bucky seems like a perfectly nice guy, but this fancy place makes you uncomfortable. You gently smile while shaking Michael’s hand and take Bucky’s arm.
"Have a good evening. It was nice to meet you."
“It was nice meeting you too, Michael.”
"I'm sorry for that. Took too long," Bucky whispers in your ear.
“The event isn’t even over yet. We are leaving early.” He shouldn’t have to say sorry for something you agreed to do.
"Is it okay if we drive you home?" He gestures to his driver who's pulling in. You didn't even realize when he texted him.
“You don’t have to, I can take a cab.”
"At this hour?" He puffs. "Not in a thousand years. My driver can drop you off." Bucky offers instantly. It's clear he won't let this go.
“Only if it won’t be a bother…”
"Of course not." He gestures to his driver. "I want you to drop the lady off and make sure she gets inside safely, please. I'll take a cab."
“What?” You didn’t expect him to take a cab. “No, I can’t accept that.”
"Please. Also thank you for tonight, I am really grateful and I enjoyed having you here."
“Bucky…” You stop for a second, feeling hesitation over using his name. “Can I call you Bucky?”
"Of course."
“Bucky, thank you for tonight. I enjoyed it more than I expected. You are a gentleman, but I can’t take your car. I thought you meant dropping me at my place on your way home.”
"I thought..." he pauses. "You felt uncomfortable around me and that's why you refused the ride."
“No. Why would I feel uncomfortable around you?”
He smiles shyly and opens the door for you. "Alright, then let's go."
You really don’t know why he thought that and it bothers you. While you take your seat, you decide to apologize for what happened in there. Maybe that’s why he felt uneasy.
He looks absolutely confused when you actually say the words. "What?"
“I am just really sorry about what I did back there. I don’t know what came over me.”
"What did you do?”
“You know… Making you uncomfortable by fixing your hair.”
Bucky can't help but giggle softly. "Why would you apologize for that? That was very thoughtful, thanks."
His giggle catches you off guard. “I thought… I crossed a boundary.”
"No, not at all. Sorry for the boring conversations."
“It wasn’t that boring. I actually learned a couple of things.”
Bucky smiles. "Did you? Not surprised, you're a businesswoman after all."
“I try to be.” You smile back even though you are feeling kinda sad that your time with him is about to end.
"I think you have a big potential. You control your emotions very well. You are smart and know how to enjoy good wine." He gives you a playful but innocent wink as he says the last part.
“And now I know you, so I can ask for business advice.” You repeat Michael’s words very poorly.
Bucky nods. "Of course. And you know maybe I can help... with a donation."
“A donation?” You really didn’t mean to sound that offended, but you are.
He frowns. "Yeah, I really think you got potential in business and it's hard when no one helps you."
Talking about money always bothers you. Getting paid for going out with someone already feels wrong enough, but the way he walks about it makes you feel worse. 
“Can we…. not… talk about this?” Your discomfort is much more clear in your voice than you realize.
"I-Of course, sorry if I bothered you," he immediately says apologetically.
“Talking about money like this bothers me and… just to be clear, I don’t want any help.”
"I understand. I wasn't trying to intrude."
You offer him a smile, but it doesn’t reach your eyes.
"I'm really so-"
"Is this the right address?" The driver interrupts Bucky all of a sudden.
“Yeah, it is.” Your answer comes instantly.
"Perfect."
“Thank you…” You stop for a minute realizing you don’t know his name. “I’m sorry I didn’t catch your name before.”
"Noah."
“Thank you, Noah.” Then you turn to Bucky. “And thank you for tonight, Bucky.”
"Thank you." You give him one more smile before opening the door. "Wait."
“What?”
"Are you free on 18?"
“I… think so. Why?”
"I have a proposal for you."
*
As the 18th comes closer, you get more worried about what to wear. You used your fanciest dress at that event and now your options are pretty limited. You search your closet and try to think of a friend who would let you borrow a dress. That’s when you finally see that simple black dress. That might work. When you put it on, your feelings are conflicted, though. It looks good on you, but it doesn’t seem good enough. You are not completely sure about how fancy this event is. Maybe… maybe you can ask him. 
< Hey. Sorry to bother you but how fancy is this event?
> Hey, no bother. Like the one we attended.
> Why?
< I’m not sure about my dress. Is it okay if I show it to you? I don’t wanna be underdressed.
> I am sure that's impossible but of course.
You send a mirror selfie, showing your dress.
>You look very beautiful.
>The dress is absolutely amazing too, but it's a black-tie event. Would you consider me disrespectful if I sent my stylist to you?
< Thank you. 
< No, of course not. I need help. I would appreciate it.
> Gonna send Lila a message and then I'll give her your number if that's okay.
< That’s perfectly okay. Thank you and again sorry to bother you with something like this.
> You don't bother me.
> I mean it.
< I know you are busy. That’s what I meant.
> Well, I am sure you are very busy yourself.
> How is the bakery and how was the meeting?
< I’m done working for the day. So I get to worry about the dress I’m gonna wear.
< The meeting went well but I didn’t hear anything from them yet.
> I hope it was a full day.
> I mean with many clients.
> And I hope they will give you a call.
< It was a tiring day. How was yours?
> Tiring, but productive, thank you for asking.
> Lila will call you in two minutes. She's a nice person. She manages to make me look decent every time.
< You look more than decent and I don’t think it’s all her doing.
5 minutes later
< Talked to Lila. We go shopping tomorrow. Thanks again for the help.
> Don't thank me for that. My pleasure. Have a good evening.
< You too.
The next day, you meet Lila and go shopping together like you agreed. She seems like a fun person and definitely understands your style. Her suggestions are great. but the only problem is the cost When you notice the price tags, you want to leave, but she assures you that it is all taken care of. That’s when you realize Bucky Barnes is paying for this shopping trip. You feel dumb for not thinking about this while talking to him. That’s why he was guarded when he offered help. That usually restlessness creeps up on you because you don’t want his help like this, but Lila convinces you that he is the reason you need new dresses anyway. And it is true. He is dressing you so you look the part. That eases your anxiety and finally, you are able to enjoy your dress hunt. When you come back home, you are completely exhausted but ready for any event he might want to take you. 
*
> Hi
> How are you?
< I’m good, getting ready. How are you?
> I am good too.
> I was wondering if you mind me picking you up...
< You wanna pick me up?
> Yes. I might need your address again, though.
< Noah doesn’t remember?
< I am picking you up.
Oh.
> You should say no if you don't want that.
< No, why wouldn’t I? I just didn’t think you would come without your driver for some reason.
> Do you want me to come with Noah?
> I can.
< I don’t need someone extra to feel comfortable around you, Bucky. 
< It’s up to you. Whatever you wanna do, I will be fine with it.
> Perfect 🙂
> 7:30 or 8? We should totally skip half an hour.
> So boring
< That emoji makes me feel like I did something wrong and you are being kind.
< Both are fine by me.
> See you at 8 then 😁
> Since you hate the other emoji
< Oh this one is much better.
< See you at 8. Leave your overthinking hat at home.
You quickly send him your address.
> Thank you
*
The evening comes even quicker than you expected. He picks you up alone and you have a great conversation on your way to the event. He gives you some pointers about it and the people you will most likely have to talk to and warns you that it’s gonna be boring. And he is right. It is even more boring than the first one. A lot of speeches and conversations with people you don’t know. You try to stay composed and play your part, trying to hide the fact that you are bored as fuck. Bucky comes to your rescue with a fun game. He makes funny comments and on-point jokes before and/or after you talk to someone. His observation skills are extraordinary. He notices stuff that you wouldn’t normally remark. Like a missing wedding ring, so he knows not the mention their spouse during their conversation. He whispers into your ear and makes you laugh the whole night. Hearing his voice that close, and feeling his breath on your neck drives you crazy. Does he know the effect he has on you? Is he doing it on purpose or is he just trying to pass the time as pleasantly as possible? You don’t know. Just like the first event, you leave a little bit early. He drives you back home, offers you a warm smile, and mentions when the next event will take place. You just nod in agreement, already looking forward to it.
*
> Friends or The Office?
> Also hi
< The Office. Love how intentionally awkward it is.
< Hiii back.
> How are you?
> Let me guess who you like the most
> Is he tall?
< Yeah genius, it’s Jim.
< I’m good, how are you?
> I knew you have taste.
> I am good. Now even better.
< Why better?
< Also who else could I like? He’s the only sane person in that office.
> Because I talk to you.
> So true.
He’s feeling better because he’s talking to you. God, that makes your blood rush.
< I like talking to you, too.
< Okay I have a question. What do you think of Karen?
> Karen? Don't make me be a hater while texting.
> It would never end.
> You?
< You know the word hater? I’m impressed.
< I don’t like her either. She tried too hard to make things work.
> I am 34, not 304!
> I feel offended
< It’s so easy to tease you.
> She is boring and annoying. More annoying than that douchebag.
< You mean Roy?
> Yeah
> That punching scene though
< God, that guy is a walking red flag. 
< Pam was truly blind.
> She was. Sad...
< Favorite season?
> Hard.
> Very hard.
> Maybe 4.
> Yours?
< Either 4 or 6.
> Tastee
< You are starting to sound like me 
> Well, I am older, so it's the other way around
< Sure old man. Whatever you say 
> Old but handsome, to quote you
< I can’t be held responsible for the things I say when I’m tipsy.
> Excusess
< Shh you are exposing me too much
As time passes, your conversations become friendlier. You don’t feel like this is something you have to do just to keep your business going. It feels like you two enjoy each other’s company. It feels like flirting. Yet you are not sure if that’s how he feels about all this, too. 
> Hi. Are you home?
< Yeah?
> in a few minutes you might have a delivery
< A delivery? 
< Bucky what did you buy this time?
> I can sense a tone
< Can you?
> A bratty tone.
> You'll see when it comes.
Just a few minutes later you open the door and see a huge bouquet of flowers.
< Jesus Bucky!
< These are so pretty!
< Thank youu.
> No complaining, huh?
> Glad you like them.
> I can complain if that’s what you want.
> I want you to be good and put them in a vase.
< They are already in a vase, sir.
You send a photo of the flowers in your prettiest vase.
> Great.
< I can’t stop smelling them.
> Noted
< I’ve got something to show you. Well two things because I can’t decide.
> Waiting
You send two mirror selfies in two different dresses. The first one is a black dress with a high slit on the right side. The other one is a simple pastel pink dress but the cleavage is on display a little.
< Which one should I wear for the next event?
> You think I am the right person to choose?
< I am your date, aren’t I?
> They both look great.
> Depends on what you want.
< That’s what I think too!
< And that’s why I can’t decide.
< Please help me out.
> Pink?
< Pink it is.
< Thank you.
*
What you didn't expect from this arrangement is how your attachment grows more and more every time you see Bucky. He makes it hard not to miss him with his smile and his jokes, the way he tries to integrate you and always asks how you feel. Truth be told, you're not even professional anymore and you catch yourself wanting to make a move on him every time he compliments you. But you can't, so you're forced to wait for him to do it. And you really hope he will.
*
You probably put too much faith in a rich person because when you see your notification from the banking app, you have to refrain from making a scene. You check twice just to be sure. For some reason, you are paid double the amount for this date and it’s not because he missed any previous payments. No, he just decided to pay you more the moment you started to grow closer.
When you look at him, he immediately catches something's wrong and leans in to whisper. 
"What happened?"
“I don’t wanna talk about it right now.” Because you know if you do, your whole act will be exposed.
Bucky nods and looks at the rest of the table. "We're gonna head back home now. It was really nice to see you."
His reaction surprises you. You have the whole night ahead of us and he already paid you double. Why does he want to leave already?
"Of course. Have a good evening!"
“Oh, are you really leaving this early?” Someone else asks.
"Yes. We have plans for tomorrow pretty early in the morning."
“Ah! Too bad. Still, it was nice seeing you two.”
You both nod before you make your way to the door. You absently watch him asking for both of your coats and holding the door for you.
The way he’s acting like everything is fine infuriates you more. You really hoped something was going to happen between you two. It felt like you were headed in that direction, but you are not so sure anymore. Maybe he never saw it that way. Maybe he was thinking the worst of you and he’s just paying you more for everything he considers extra. It makes you feel nauseous.
"I should have made them change the plate…  Do you have an allergic reaction?"
“Yeah, I am having an allergy reaction.” You lash out as soon as you feel safe to react. “An allergic reaction to you trying to buy everything.”
"What?" He looks at you so confused as if he didn't double paid you a moment ago.
“Tell me it’s just a mistake and you didn’t do it on purpose.”
"Do what? Pay you?"
Oh… He did it on purpose. And just like that the last hope you were hanging on vanishes. 
“Yeah, pay me double just as we were getting closer. Is that all I am to you?” 
"All you are to me?" He repeats shocked.
“Someone you can pay for whatever you want.” You don’t wait for an answer. You just keep going. “Of course, that’s all I am. What else can I be? It’s my fault for accepting this… deal. I put myself in this position. Why would you see me as someone other than a hooker.”
"Stop!" He screams back but not as loudly as you do. "What are you saying? What the actual fuck? When did I even imply that? Paying you double has nothing to do with disrespecting you! Contrary!"
“You don’t have to say it! The moment we started to get closer, you decided to pay me double. I don’t need to be Einstein to put 2 and 2 together.”
He scrunches his nose. "How about us getting closer and me wanting to help you, huh? Did that ever cross your mind? Me wanting to help you pay your debt faster, knowing the effort you make to accompany me to these," he gestures to the place behind you. "But no, of course, you didn't because you think the lowest of me. That I would believe I can buy you and your affection!" 
“Help me?” He must be joking. “When I specifically told you I don’t want help!”
"I just don't want you to struggle. Is it so bad?" His voice is soft now while he stares at you, trying to show you he's entirely honest 
“Have you ever stopped for a second and thought how getting help would make me feel? I’ll tell you. It makes me feel like a failure.”
"You're not a failure. And getting help doesn't make anything you did and do less important, especially since it's small. Please..." he sighs. "Let's continue talking in the car at least, it's freezing. You shouldn't get sick."
“Fine. I will get in, but this… this conversation is not over.” He’s right. It’s freezing and you can’t take it anymore.
He nods gratefully and opens the door for you, which you close with force.
As soon as he gets in the car and starts the engine, he turns on the ac, giving you a look. You keep taking deep breaths and avoid looking at him.
"Please... do you really think that low of me?"
"I don't know what to think anymore." You finally look back at him. "Are you gonna drive or are we gonna have this conversation here?"
"I don't want to drive you home upset. I want to talk about it..."
You stop for a second, consider your options. You can't have this conversation in a public place. "Your place or mine?"
*
Money is clearly not an issue for him so he probably didn't even blink to pay you double you realize as you get inside the house. You try not to look around too curiously. Your image in his eye is already as bad as it could get.
"How low do you think of me?" He repeats the same question while he starts to take off his shoes.
“I should be asking you that question.”
"You're the one who thinks I tried to buy you as a hooker."
“What were you trying to do then if not buying my affection? And don’t tell me helping!”
"To help."
“I don’t want help!” You don’t notice how loud you are. “I don’t want anyone’s help! I have to do this on my own. Is that so hard to understand?”
"Yes and no." He sighs. "I get this drive, I had it too, but I wish you could try to see... that you don't have to do this alone. But instead, you think I see you as someone buyable." 
“Imagine when you started your business and had debt, someone had the means to help you, just give you money like it’s nothing and you don’t get to pay it back. Would you accept it? Would you think it’s your success if someone helped you out like that? Just be honest and answer.”
"Fuck no." He sighs. "But you deserve the money. And you put up with the events and your business..."
“Fuck no indeed. I want to do this myself. I have to prove myself I’m not a failure like my-” You stop yourself from finishing that sentence.
"What? Like what?"
“It doesn’t matter. I just need to prove that to myself, okay?”
"How could you think you are failing when you already did so much?
“As long as this business doesn’t succeed, whatever I’ve done so far does not matter. Only the result matters.” You don’t notice you are repeating your father’s words.
"That is bullshit. You think success is based on wins only?"
“It doesn’t feel like winning when you are worried about paying the next month's salaries.”
"That's a worry that honestly doesn't stop. Or at least not for me. Success means failure and worries sometimes. Success means trying and holding on."
“I’m not here to have a conversation about what you view as success, Bucky. I’m here because I’m mad at you.”
"You're mad at me, but you think I am an awful person." He starts taking off his jacket.
“I’m mad at you because you can’t pay me double just because you want to. That’s not how real life works.” 
"Oh, really?" He smiles sarcastically. "I should totally give zero shits about you worrying about paying salaries and having student debt. Totally real-life fun stuff."
“Student debt? How do you even know about that?”
"You mentioned it."
“I don’t remember mentioning my student debt to you.”
He puffs, not breaking eye contact. "I have ears."
“You heard me mentioning my student debt and decided to pay me double?” He’s unbelievable.
"Yes."
“Do you have any idea how much you were paying me before?”
Bucky blushes embarrassed and strokes his beard. "No..."
“You were already paying me nearly a monthly salary. Just for going on a date with you once a week. Do you have any idea how it made me feel seeing that double payment in my account while I was hoping for…”
"Fuck, I want to say I am sorry, but I am not. I am not buying you, no matter how low you think of me. I want to help you. I thought we are already friends."
“Friends.” You give him a bitter smile. “Friends don’t pay each other.”
"Friends help each other." He is getting closer to you.
“Not without the other one asking for help.”
"You're impossible." He sighs. "You can pay me back at some point." He is so serious.
“Which point will that be?”
"Whenever you won't be worried about salaries."
“You said it yourself, that time never comes.”
"Please, doll." He closes his eyes, not even realizing what he said.
“Please what?”
"Can we just stop fighting?"
“We can if you stop paying me.”
"It's your money. You come with me every time. This event was more boring than usual... consider this a bonus for putting up with it and me." 
“I don’t want- I don’t need that.”
"Why not? It's just for now." He seems upset. "Do you want nothing to do with me anymore?"
“I don’t need money to… enjoy my evening with you. I was actually hoping for you to… you know… stop paying me soon.”
"You want to end this?" He doesn't even try to hide his disappointment. His voice starts trembling.
“I want to end the payments.”
"So no more events..."
“I didn’t say that. I said I don’t want you to pay me for that anymore.”
"Oh." Bucky thinks a little. "You want to come to meet more people?" 
“Dear god… You are so dense for a smart businessman sometimes!”
"You are calling me dumb."
“Yeah, because you are being dumb or just acting dumb, I don’t know anymore. You can call me if you want me to accompany you as your friend… or date, okay? It’s up to you now.” You reach for your stuff to leave his place.
"I just want to know why you'd find it so bad for me to pay you. Would you not pay me?"
“Don’t you really see the implication?”
"What implication? Tell me what you think."
“Would you pay me if we had sex?”
He freezes, completely taken aback. "What?"
“You heard what I said. Would you love me like you paid me, too?”
"You want to fuck me?" He asks unsure. As if he doesn’t know if he heard you right.
“Do you need things spelled out for you like this?”
"Do you mean it?"
“I have already said too much, Bucky. I think it’s better if I go.”
He grabs your hand when you turn toward the door. "I don't think you said enough."
“You want me to embarrass myself more?” He rolls his eyes. “I think I have made myself clear enough. Time for me to leave.”
"Come on." He smiles. "You didn't say anything."
You let a frustrated breath out. “Take care, Bucky.”
"Doll, please. You can't leave in the middle of a conversation like this!"
“Of course, I can leave. What else is there to talk about?”
"You asked if I'd pay you for sex."
“And I think I got my answer.”
"No, I would not pay you for sex."
“Because you didn’t even consider that option.”
He puffs, and you notice sweat drops on his neck. "Why did you even ask that? I already said I do not consider you buyable." 
He is very close now, holding both of your hands and staring into your soul.
“Because that’s how I feel every time you pay me to spend time with you.”
"God, doll. You are really fucking impossible. You think I don't want to kiss you or fuck you? I think about it all the goddamn time if I let myself, but we had an arrangement..."
“And that’s why I wanna end the arrangement.”
"Done." His answer is instant.
“So you can take me out on a normal date, maybe.”
"Yeah?" He wraps his arms around your waist, making you drop both: your coat and bag. But you don’t look down even when they hit the floor. 
“If you want…” You feel your voice suddenly getting smaller.
"May I kiss you?"
“Only if you aren’t gonna ask permission for everything.”
He snorts. "Just answer." 
“You may.”
He does, moving a hand to your chin as he immediately tries to deepen the kiss. The way he kisses you takes you by surprise. You didn’t expect him to start this kiss so strongly, but you definitely aren’t complaining. His other hand goes from your waist to your ass, grabbing it over your pants. You gasp in surprise, which interrupts the kiss.
He smiles. "Hi."
“Hi.” You try to catch your breath while he starts to kiss down your neck without warning. Your right hand trails up from his neck to his hair as you let out a low moan.
"Fuck." He starts sucking on a spot below your collarbone.
“Jesus, Bucky…” You try to sound as normal as possible. “Take a girl out to dinner first.”
"You want dinner?"
“Well, not right now.” 
"What do you want right now?" 
“Just keep doing what you were doing.”
He kisses you so sloppily, his hands going under your shirt without realizing. You wrap your hands around his neck and close the remaining distance between your bodies.
"Fuck, you taste so good."
“Maybe it’s the lipstick.” You joke and without letting him answer, you start to kiss him again, immediately using your tongue. He moans in the middle of the kiss and then opens his mouth a little further, inviting you in. Your hands go to the buttons of his shirt.
"Oh, fuck."
“Can I take this off?” You ask for permission the way he did before.
"Please." He is breathing slowly, looking at your hands
You take your time unbuttoning the shirt, testing his patience.
"Doll, please." His mouth finds your neck.
“Please what?”
"Faster."
“That part comes later,” You say with a suggestive tone and he snorts, leaving another kiss on your neck.
"Left you a few pretty marks." 
“Maybe I should give you some too.”
"Later." When you finally finish unbuttoning, he takes it off in a heartbeat. "Hope you won't hate me."
“For what?” He simply rips your shirt in half in response. “Bucky!” His hands grab your bra while you are still talking. “That was an expensive top!” 
"Was." He just rips off the bra, too. "Just like this was on you. Past tense.”
"Do not!" You lift your finger. "Rip off anything else!"
He bites that finger without hesitation, sucking in it further. You try to take your finger back. 
“Jesus Bucky, how am I gonna go back home now?”
"What? You want to go home?"
“I have to go home eventually, you know.”
"I have clothes, you know?" He starts to take off your belt. "Pants too." You can see he wants to get rid of them too.
“You want me to leave your house in your clothes?”
He kisses her. "What?"
You take a deep, annoyed breath. “Fine, I will worry about this later.”
"May I rip these too?"
“No. No more ripping, please.”
"Alright," he says disappointed but lets you take off your pants while he’s simply staring at your breasts.
“At least I have this to wear while going back home,” you say, swinging your underwear.
"You talk so much about leaving."
“Hmm, do I?”
"Yeah." He's obviously trying not to show he's upset, but he's failing. And this makes you happy… the fact he doesn’t want you to leave.
“Does it bother you?”
"No," he whispers and looks at his own pants. "I can just make you feel good, you know? No rush, then I'll drive you home as you want."
You reach for his pants and start to unbuckle it. “I have a mind that… keeps on worrying. I think about stuff I have to do later constantly, but there’s a way to turn it off. At least for a while.”
He tries to stop you. "I can make you feel good, drive you home and take you on a date tomorrow." 
You finally understand what he actually means. “What? No. That’s not what I want.”
"Okay. Just wanted to make sure you understand we can stop like any time."
“Oh, I know. I just don’t want to.”
"Okay." He smiles and lets his hands fall down.
“I feel like you are tiptoeing around me. Where’s that Bucky I see at these boring events every week?”
"He's here, just trying to do everything right. But I don't know what you mean by that Bucky."
"I mean that Bucky who doesn't hesitate."
"This is different though. I don't want you to think I am a douche, you know?" He sighs. "I don't want you uncomfortable."
"Your hesitation gives me anxiety. And I know you by now. You don't need to worry about that." You push his pants down and they pool around his ankles. Impatiently, he takes off his boxers himself and steps out of them.
"Alright then. Should we move to the bedroom?"
But you are too busy to finally look at him, all naked, to hear him. He looks better than you anticipated and that makes you even more eager to touch him.
He tries not to smile, but it's hard.
“Uhm… what?”
"Nothing, nothing. Keep going."
“Okay.” You move closer and start kissing him again. You grab him gently yet firmly and start moving your hand slowly, just to get him used to the feeling.
"Fuck." He moans against your lips. "Feels good."
You gently bite his lower lip while you keep moving your hand. It’s still slow, but you pay attention to grab his balls and brush against the tip, just to see his reactions
"Doll..."
“Hmm?” You stop kissing him and look into his eyes as you decide to kneel down.
"Doll, no." He groans. "Fuck, I really dreamed about this, but let's go to bed."
“If you dreamed about it, why are you saying no?”
"Because we can do something else fun for you too."
“Oh, believe me, this is fun.” You take your tongue out, swiping it on the shaft from the bottom to the top, making him moan immediately. “Do you want me to stop?” You ask, your lower lip touching the tip. He doesn't even seem to hear you.
“Hmm…” And that’s your answer. You take the tip into your mouth, gently licking. "Oh, shit," He moans and without thinking he wraps his hand around your ponytail.
Your tongue swirls around the tip, occasionally swiping on that sensitive spot that makes him moan really loudly. "Holy fuck." He's fully playing with your hair now. "Baby, please..." He doesn't seem to know what he's begginh for though.
“Hmm?” You silently ask while your tongue keeps working on him.
"We should... stop."
You take your mouth off him for a second, just enough to ask: “Why?” Then you take him right back inside your mouth.
"I'm gonna come," he says a little embarrassed.
He might have wanted you to stop because of that, but you have no intention of doing it. You want him to feel good, so you grab the shaft, moving it up and down while you take your mouth off for a few more seconds.
“Then come.” 
Your tongue goes back to the tip, moving in sync with your hand. He can't even ask you if he should pull out because he's already coming in your mouth. You keep moving your head and hand until he finally hisses because of overstimulation.
"Doll."
You look at him while swallowing. “Yeah?”
"Thank you so much, I'm just... fuck me," he groans at the sight in front of him. There is something absolutely sinful about you like this. "I am just really sensitive."
“That’s normal.” You kiss his cock really gently on a spot that wouldn’t cause any discomfort. He lets go of your hair and smiles. You quickly wipe away that line of come dripping down to your chin before he helps you stand up and kisses you hard. You are already unbelievably wet, but the way he uses his tongue takes it to another level. He lifts you in his arms when you least expect and a yelp leaves your lips.
"Gonna take you to the bedroom."
“Yeah, okay.” You wrap your legs around his torso, trying to hide your excitement.
"I'm gonna eat you, okay?" He opens the door with his leg.
The way he says it sends shivers down your spine. You can feel the throbbing between your legs.
"You want to ride my face, pretty doll? Or do you want me on my knees?"
“God…” You think for a second, both options being tempting. “On your knees.”
"You want me on my knees? Want me to beg to eat your pussy?"
“Would you?”
"Beg for it?" He puffs. "For you? Of course."
“Jesus fucking Christ…”
"Just Bucky." He puts you down on the bed and kneels. You laugh a little. His nervousness is definitely fading away. He smiles and starts kissing below your knee. "Please, can I eat you, baby?"
“Oh god… I wanna hear that again.”
"I am begging. Please, allow me." He kisses all the way up.
“It’s all yours.”
He makes the most animalistic sound you've heard from his mouth before and lifts both of your legs over his shoulders.
"Gonna let me do it over and over again?"
“I might wanna do different things in between, but yes…” That makes him smile.
"Thank you." Then he finally starts licking at your entrance.
The first moan you let out sounds like you are trying to catch your breath. Bucky's fingers dig into your thighs when he properly enters you with his tongue.
“Oh god...” That feels amazing. He says nothing, trying to move his tongue around for a little while testing what you like. You instinctively move your hips a little, forcing his tongue closer to your clit.
"Fuck." You barely hear him say as he properly moves his mouth to your clit.
“Yess!” You shake with excitement. Bucky starts to flick his tongue gently on your clit, bringing his hand to your entrance. You don’t realize how you are moving your hips to create more friction. And he adds the first finger inside you without stopping his tongue motion. 
“Ahh, yes.” It sounds like you have been waiting for this forever. His free hand goes up just to squeeze and massage each breast as he adds his second finger.
“Bucky, fuck!” It feels like he’s everywhere. His flicks turn into full licks while his fingers move faster.
“I’m gonna- I’m gonna- come.” You can already feel your legs shaking. He continues the pace exactly like this and moans against your clit.
“Oh fuck. Oh fuckk. God, please- don’t stop. Please.” He doesn't stop, he couldn't even if he tried, eager to make you come.
After a few seconds, something snaps inside you and finally, you feel loose. Your whole body is shaking and you can’t get enough of the way he makes you feel. The movement of his tongue, the way his fingers move… And it doesn’t end quickly. No, he keeps going and you feel the same high over and over again until it’s too much to bear. You stop him by grabbing a handful of his hair.
“That was… incredible.” He smiles, raising his head enough for you to see how wet he is. “Jesus…” His beard is soaked. You had no idea you were that wet.
"Just Bucky." He repeats the same joke as he licks his lips.
“Your beard… it’s so wet.” You are too shocked to react to his joke.
"Wanna clean it for me?" He winks and god, he looks so charming.
“Come here.” You open your arms.
He hugs you immediately, his beard making contact directly with your breasts as he’s spreading your wetness all over them.
"Oops." He giggles. "Guess I have to clean up my mess."
You giggle, too. “You know you don’t need an excuse to suck my nipples, right?”
"What? This is not what I'm doing. I like to clean." 
And just like that, you feel Bucky's tongue all over your tits, making sure to avoid your nipples.
“Hmm… That feels good.” He bites a little the skin on your left breast, and you whine in response.
"Hurting?"
“A little.”
"Sorry, baby." He sucks a little around the bite as an apology.
"It's fine. Come here and gimme a kiss."
"No." He gets stubborn and he finally takes the first nipple into his mouth.
You grab his hair and force him away from your nipple. "You are so stubborn."
"You like pulling my hair."
"I was thinking about pulling it for a long time."
"Why didn't you?"
"Well, I touched it instead of pulling. On our first date." 
"Yes." He smiles giving you a small kiss. "Not enough."
“There’s no way I could pull your hair there, you know.”
"True. I would moan."
"You and me both." You giggle again.
"So you felt okay?"
"Okay?"
He smiles. "More than okay?"
"You have no idea how okay that was."
"Probably not. You get to feel pleasure in ways I never will."
"Poor you. We should totally try to change that."
He snorts. "You want to suck me again? Or do you want to fuck me?"
"I want you to fuck me."
"Yeah?" He kisses your cheeks. "That's easy."
"Yeah?" Your hips move a little, rubbing against his erection. "Then what are you waiting for?"
"Gonna be right back." He tries to get up, but you stop him.
"Condom?"
"Yep. Any preference?" 
"Yeah, none if possible."
Bucky looks at you confused. "What?” He thinks maybe you meant the flavor. “I can find one without it." 
"I meant no condom because I'm on the pill, so it's up to you."
"You sure?" You aren’t sure if he’s excited or surprised.
"Why wouldn't I be? As long as you are clean."
"Want me to bring my blood tests?"
You laugh a little because you know he means it and you couldn’t help but imagine him dutifully showing you the papers. "I will take your word for it, Mr. Barnes."
"Mr Barnes?" He repeats amused as he spreads your legs properly. "Are you gonna call me that when I come inside you, too?"
"Mr. Barnes sounds too formal for that. Gotta find something else for that moment."
He grabs and positions himself at your entrance. "I'm sure you're creative."
You push your hips impatiently. "I will find something fitting."
He enters you without waiting, but he's careful not to hurt you so he stops for a little. You throw your head back because of the way you feel with his cock inside you. A lower, nearly animalistic moan escapes your lips. 
"Oh god."
"Please move."
He kisses you gently as he finally starts to thrust slowly. You are so wet that he's moving so smoothly, dragging your walls every time he pulls back and then filling you up all over again.
"Aren't you a wet little doll?" He shifts his weight on his elbows that he places on both sides of your head.
"I’m so unbelievably wet." 
"Perfect." He buries his head into your neck and starts to move faster.
“I have been… imagining how… this would feel.”
"Did you dream about it?" He doesn’t miss the chance to ask that.
“Once.”
"Only once?" He tries not to sound disappointed, but he fails.
“Yeah, and I was surprised because I don’t dream about sex.”
"How?" He starts sucking harder.
“Ahh.” You moan softly. “During one of those fancy events.”
"Fuck." He lifts his head to look at you. "Did you dream of me fucking you in the closet? Or the baby changing room?"
“In a dark closet. Suddenly you are all over me.”
"Fucking you from behind? Or holding my baby?"
“You were holding me and- ahh. I was trying to- stay quiet. But- you kept fucking me- harder.” His hips move so fast now you can barely speak. 
"Did you scream?"
“I was about to, but I woke up suddenly.”
"Fuck." He groans. "The worst. Did you finish the job?"
“Yeah.” You breathe out. “I was so fucking wet.”
"Just...." He closes his eyes. "I'm imagining you using your little fingers under your panties to play with your clit- Shit."
“And it wasn’t enough.”
"No? Poor baby." He leans in to bite your bottom lip for a few seconds.
“It was frustrating.” You moan when he moves his hips a little harder. “Nowhere near… this.”
"Nothing like my cock? Like us?"
“Nuh-huh.”
"God, can't wait to come inside you... to see you dripping."
“Shit, Bucky. You can’t just say things like that.” It makes you clench hard. You need to come. Now.
"Why not? So fucking hot." His thrusts slow down but become deeper at the same time. "Dripping down your thighs. Gonna clean that up for you and share it." He curses. "Gonna pass you my come in a kiss."
“Oh fuck.” His words, the image just pushes you over that edge. “I’m coming. Oh fuck, please don’t come. Not yet. Please.”
"Why not? Do you want me to pull out?" He teases.
“I need one more.” You say while shaking hard. “Just one more.”
"I'm right here," he whispers assuringly. “I'm inside you, not going anywhere. I dreamed about you too." He pauses to curse. "Fuck, I was fucking my bed."
“Tell me… tell me about it.” The orgasm keeps washing you in waves. Over and over again until it fades away.
"You were in my office at work. Came to talk about a gala or we were leaving from there, I don’t know. And we just... we were suddenly kissing and I was ripping off your dress. And I was simply fucking you all over the desk."
“How did it feel?”
"Not even close to this, but it was good. So good. I almost came in my sleep."
“You didn’t come?” You finally feel like your breath is going back to normal. 
"I stroked myself after I woke up and came. A lot."
“Made a big mess because of me?”
"Mhm." He brings his fingers to your lips. "And you weren't there to help me." 
“I’m here now.”
"Gonna help me this time?" His index finger plays with her bottom lip.
“Oh, I will.” You bite his finger gently. “And no mess this time. I’m here to take every drop of your come.”
"You sure you can?" He teases. "What if it's too much?"
“It’s all mine. I don’t care if it’s too much.”
"I'm all yours."
“Oh, Bucky.” You feel like you are melting. You kiss him on the lips passionately. “I’m all yours, too.”
"Yeah?" He smiles and starts thrusting faster. "Aren't you a pretty little doll? All mine, ready to take my come."
“Yours.” You repeat and that familiar pleasure starts to build up again, but you want to try something else. Something you have been imagining. “Can you… flip me over?”
"Sure," he answers a little surprised, and helps you move.
“I have been imagining how this would feel.”
"Thought you did it only once." 
“You know dreaming and imagining are different things, right?” You tease him. You can’t see his expression, but you know he made a face right after hearing your words.
"How many times did you imagine it?'
“Oh, who knows? A lot of times.”
"Tell me what did you imagine when we were like this." He squeezes your hips, so turned on to see your on all fours.
“You fucking me hard.”
"How hard?" He teases leaning in to kiss your back.
“As hard as you can.”
As soon as he starts to properly thrust inside you, a few gasps and whimpers leave his mouth. The positions opens you up in a different way. 
"God, this is... fuck me."
“Yeah, I would say- the same.” It’s hard to speak when he is pounding you like this.
"You're making such a mess on the bed, baby. Around my cock. God, so fucking wet."
“Should I apologize for the mess?” You ask cheekily because he seems so gone.
"You should." He squeezes your ass. "By making a bigger mess."
“I think- that’s- possible.”
"Yeah?" He fucks you even harder, properly using his knees and your hips. "You gonna come?" 
“Yeah! Please!”
"Please what?" 
“Please, daddy.” The words leave your lips before your mind can register them.
"Holy fuck, what did you just say?" He barely manages to keep going, just slowing down. He looks at you as if he doesn't know if he imagined something, and that's how you  realize what you said.
“Shit! I’m sorry. I’m really sorry.” You start to panic.
"Hey, baby." His voice is soft, assuring. "What are you sorry for?"
“I didn’t mean to say it out loud. I was just… thinking that.”
"God, baby." He tries to turn your head to look into your eyes by grabbing your chin and titling it up. "You think of me as your daddy?"
“Is it bad if I do?”
"Yeah, it's bad because I can come any second when you call me that." He kisses your forehead. "Be a good girl for daddy and try to come, okay?"
“God, Bucky.” You moan because of his words. You’ve imagine this, indeed, a lot of times, but hearing it? It’s something that can’t be described.
He pulls your hair. "Daddy."
“Oh, fuck.” It turns you on even more and you don’t know how that’s even possible. “Yes, daddy.”
"Did you imagine this, too?" He is leaving you breathless with the way he is pounding you, yet he still demands an answer. "Did you imagine calling me daddy while I fuck you like this?" 
“Yes.” You are so close to coming. So close that you can taste it. “I did- so many times.”
One of his hands finds your right breast and sqeezes. "Please, come for daddy. Gonna be a good girl and come?"
“Oh fuck. Oh fuck. Oh fuuckk, I’m coming!” The way your orgasm hits you makes you lose the last drop of control you had over your body. You can’t think of anything beside Bucky and how good he’s making you feel. His pace quickens for a second before he comes. He doesn't manage to warn you he's coming too, but he doesn't have to. His moan and the feeling of his come are enough.
He keeps it going until both of you finish and when you do, the only thing that you can hear is your loud breaths. Then you feel a trail of kisses all over your back.
“Oh my god,” you finally manage to speak.
"Just Bucky." He reaches your neck. "Or daddy."
You laugh. “God, you are so smug.”
"Smug?" He smiles and pokes your skin with his tongue. 
You turn around, finally fully facing him. “Yeah, daddy is real smug.” It feels so good to be able to call him that without worrying about anything else.
"Thank you."
“Who knew Bucky Barnes had a daddy kink?” You can’t help but say. 
"Not Bucky Barnes himself." He snorts.
“You just found out?”
"Yeah." He burst into laughter a bit embarrassed. He’s never thought about being called daddy before, especially not in bed, but with you? With you, it just makes sense. It feels hot.
“Oh god, I am so lucky.”
"Did you always have a daddy kink?"
“I didn’t even know I had one before meeting you.”
Bucky's smile is so big. "Fuck, I am the lucky one." He kisses you properly now, immediately trying to open your mouth by licking your bottom lip. 
“I thought I would freak you out, but look at you, fully embracing it.” 
"How could I not?"
“You liked it that much, daddy?” You wrap your arms around his neck playfully.
"God, I did. You're so hot when you say it. And the way you looked at me."
“How did I look at you?”
"Can't even explain it... I just wanna see that over and over again.”
“Well, you can.”
He scrunches his nose in the most adorable way possible. "Thank you."
“For what?”
"For everything. And for wanting me."
You frown because of that last part. “What does that even mean?” 
"Boring older man."
“Handsome older man, who I have been fantasizing about for a while.”
He giggles shily. "You make me sound like a dirty dream."
“Well, it’s because you are.”
"You are mine too."
“Lucky us.”
"You might never get rid off me." He kisses your forehead.
“I might be okay with that.”
*
It has been a while since you started to date Bucky. After that night, everything slowly started to fall into place. You found a great balance between your lives and your relationship, always making time for each other. You spend a lot of nights at his place. It doesn’t feel like his anymore, it feels like you are living together. Everything is so natural. 
“I just got the most unexpected call ever,” you say, still feeling fairly surprised by the job you got offered.
"What was it about?" Bucky is still in bed, surprisingly. He's usually the first the get up and go to the kitchen in the morning.
“Mrs. Moore called me to ask me if my bakery could do the catering for their next event.”
"Oh my god. That’s amazing."
“It is! But I am not sure if I can actually do it.”
Bucky frowns and immediately taps on the bed. "Come here."
You listen to him and continue talking while moving closer. “I haven’t given her the final answer yet, I acted like I need to check in to see if we are available, but the more I think about it, the more I notice how hard it would be.”
"I am gonna say something, but I don't think you'll like it."
“You will say you can help me out.”
"Yep." He gives you the biggest smile. "But it doesn't take away anything from your success or your efforts, okay? Just hear me out."
You take a deep breath. “Okay. I’m listening.” You have been warming up to the idea of him helping you. Maybe not financially, but he has been helping you. He has the best ideas and a great perspective. So you won’t say no to hearing him out.
He reaches to hold your hand. 
"Let me take care of the transport and hire the extra stuff who can serve at the party. I'll call a friend." He pauses. "Just this once, okay? You can curse me out later, bit let me help so you can get more jobs in the future. This is a great opportunity."
“How did you even know I needed help with transport?”
"Baby," Bucky giggles at your confused pouty face. "It's a first experience. You don't have employees for this and it's a big party." Then he shurgs, like it wasn’t that hard to guess.
“Transport, service staff, and extra place to store the food. These are the problems I need to solve if I wanna do this.” You list the things you need to be able to take this job.
"Is that a yes?"
“That’s an I am considering it.”
In response, he simply raises on his knees and kisses you, with his hands on your neck. "Good girl."
“I didn’t say yes yet!”
"Ihm."
“If you assume I will say yes, it’s definitely gonna be a no.”
"No, I am very, very, very fucking horny right now."
“Just because I might say yes to your offer for help?”
Bucky blushes. "It's very hot. And I'm so hard..."
“Jesus… You really want a sugar baby, don’t you?” He must have. He loves the idea of taking care of your every need. That would explain why.
"I just like doing this for you."
“Do you like being useful or do you like spoiling?” You insist. You want him to say it.
He makes a sound from the back of his throat. "Can we just focus on you?"
“No, please… Tell me why exactly this turns you on.”
"I don't know." You see the sides of his neck getting red.
“But I wanna know.”
"Please, just..."
“Gimme an answer and I will give you one back.”
He takes a deep breath but doesn't look at you. "I just love spoiling you even though you don't let me."
You smile. “I might let you a little bit.”
"Just..." He sighs embarrassed. "Just ignore me, okay?"
“This is me… saying yes.” You spell it out for him.
"For my help?" He finally looks at you.
“Yeah.”
"Wow.” He sounds completely surprised. “This is... great." He tries to keep his emotions under control. "Then go ahead and uhm, call Moore back as I send a few messages, okay?"
“She can wait a little bit longer.” You gently grab his erection. He has gotten really excited just because you let him help you. It’s just unbelievable yet you love it. You love that he cares about you this much. “I need to take care of daddy first.”
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