#tw: daddy kink

[joelsgreys]

strawberry

Daddy Dom! Joel Miller x Sub! Female Reader

summary: You feel ashamed for using your safe word with Joel during a session—he assures you you’re his good girl no matter what.

warnings/tags: 18+ only, MINORS DNI. (TW) daddy kink, lots of dd/lg lifestyle elements, reader is collared (day collar) age gap that is self indulgent, reader is mid to late 20’s and Joel is in his 50’s but tweak that to your imaginations if you like. SMUT; p in v sex, rough sex (that reader asks to try), spanking, possible overstimulation (if you squint??) Joel basically fucks reader too much and too hard. USE OF SAFE WORD. aftercare and lots of fluff, references to a pop culture film that i haven’t seen in forever but it’s fine. PLEASE BE MINDFUL OF TAGS AND WARNINGS. if this isn’t your thing, no worries just scroll on by.

MOODBOARD FOR AESTHETIC PURPOSES ONLY, READER HAS NO PHYSICAL DESCRIPTION.

word count: 2.4k

a/n: this is totally self indulgent, all for me as someone who has dabbled in the lifestyle before. if this is not your thing, no problem at all but kindly keep any negative comments to yourself. huge shoutout to the lovely @swiftispunk for inspiring this with the snippets of her own upcoming series that i am oh so excited for, darling han thank you for not only inspiring this, but for listening to me talk about it and encouraging it! and also to sweet mya @cavillscurls because truth be told her own fic brought back so many memories of a time in my life where i was genuinely so happy, in love, and felt safe with a partner. okay, i am gonna run away to the gym now to listen to 1989 tv (again) and pretend posting this is not nerve wracking as hell.

He’s fucked you plenty of times before.

But never like this. No, never, ever like this.

He’s relentless.

His thrusts are coming quicker, sloppier, harsher.

It doesn’t hurt, but it’s intense. Too intense.

Joel Miller is truly testing your limits tonight.

No, he was pushing you past your limits.

Because that’s what you’d asked him to do.

“Alright, sweet girl. This is the last time I’m gonna ask you before we get started. Are you absolutely, one hundred—no, one thousand percent sure that you wanna try this out tonight?” he had asked you beforehand, skimming the strap of your light pink, lace lingerie with his index finger, his feathery soft touch sending a plesant little chill down the length of your spinal column. Of all the sets you owned, it had to be Joel’s absolute favorite. Normally, it was him who would pick out what you would wear, but tonight he’d decided to let you choose for yourself and oh, you did not disappoint. He fucking adored you in the color pink; loved how sickeningly sweet, precious, and innocent you appeared in the hue as you did the filthiest things to him, with him. When you nodded eagerly in reply to his question, a sigh fell from his lips, the doubt written all over his face as he remarked, “I really don’t think you’re ready. I think we should wait just a little a while longer.”

“I’m ready,” you’d insisted, stubbornly. “I promise. I wouldn’t be asking for it if I thought I wasn’t. But I am, I promise, promise, promise I am.”

“Daddy knows what’s best for you, sweetheart—”

Fingers curled around his bicep, you’d batted your eyelashes, giving him those eyes that brought him down to his knees for you a lot more often than he cared to admit, those eyes that made Joel feel like he was learning his role all over again, despite over two decades of experience under his belt. He used to pride himself for his ability to stand firm against pouting lips, fluttering lashes, and pleading gazes. And then you come along and suddenly it’s like he is in his thirties again and he’s navigating this kind of dynamic for the first time. Even after a year and a half with you, he’s still trying to figure out how to completely unwrap himself from your little finger.

“Please? Pretty please with a cherry on top?”

Christ, you made things so goddamn difficult.

“You really think you’re gonna be able to handle it? You think you’re gonna be able to handle me when I get real rough with you, baby? Hm?”

Without missing a beat, you replied, “Yes, Daddy. I can handle it. I know I can.”

You had been so certain that you could.

Confident, even. So confident that when he began going over the rules and reminded you to use your safe word if you needed him to stop, you’d giggled and stated, “I’ve never needed to use it before and I don’t plan on using it tonight.”

Oh, how very wrong you had been about it all.

You’d overestimated yourself, and underestimated Joel. Severely.

His hips snap roughly into yours without an ounce of mercy, over and over, again and again. Beads of perspiration start trailing their way down the sides of his face, the tip of his nose. His chest is flushed, red, and also slicked with a thin sheen of sweat.

You’ve already shattered, unraveled, come undone all over his cock several times—every time with his granted permission, of course. Because you knew better than to come without Daddy’s permission.

Your cunt is swollen, sensitive, too sensitive and at a point where it could start aching if he doesn’t let up soon. However, it seems like Joel’s only getting rougher and rougher as he chases another release.

“Joel—Daddy,” you manage to correct yourself at the very last second through a slew of frantic little gasps for air. “Daddy, please! Daddy please—”

His large hand tightens around both of your wrists pinned to the mattress above your head. Surely he must think you’re begging him for more, when the reality is you’re about to start begging him to stop because it’s just too much and you can’t handle it; but there’s a part of you that doesn’t want to stop, the part of you that doesn’t want to disappoint the man who means the whole, entire world to you.

The man you belonged to, the man you loved.

Even through the haze, you try telling yourself that it’s all mind over matter, mind over matter, mind—

“Stop,” you whine, squirming underneath him. “I—can’t take it anymore, Daddy, I can’t take it—!”

Releasing your wrists, Joel pulls himself out of you and you breathe out in relief, until he flips you over onto your stomach without warning. You let out an audibly loud gasp when his hands reach down and take your hips, pulling them up off his bed, putting you on your hands and knees. He brings down one of his hands on your ass in a stinging slap. “That is just too bad, ‘cause Daddy ain’t done with you yet, darlin’ girl. Not even close to bein’ done with you.” Wrapping his other hand around his base, he grins to himself as he glides the head of his cock up and down your slick folds. When it grazes your clit, you jerk forward, away from him, and he tuts, bringing you back to him, his fingers digging into the pillow soft flesh of your hips. “Oh no baby, you ain’t goin’ anywhere.”

“But Daddy, I just can’t—”

You’re cut off by your own cry when you feel Joel’s length stretching your walls all over again. It’s just too much.

And you really, really can’t.

He leans over you and presses his lips to your ear. “You asked for this, didn’tcha? Asked to be fucked like a big girl, huh?” He bucks forward into you, eliciting another strangled cry followed by a string of pathetic whimpers. Bringing his palm down in a second strike, he demands, “Answer me when I’m takin’ to you. You wanted this, said that you could handle Daddy bein’ rough with you, ain’t that right now?”

“Strawberry.” You say the word so quietly, you can hardly hear it over the ringing in your ears.

Joel spanks you for a third time, in the exact same spot—so hard, there was simply no way you would wake up without a mark in the morning. “I need’ya to speak up. You’re such a big girl after all—”

“Strawberry!” You grasp fistfuls of bedsheets and the signal for it all to end tears itself from the back of your throat. “Strawberry, Joel! Strawberry!”

It’s only a millisecond that he freezes, if that.

“Fuckin’ hell,” Joel curses under his breath, pulling out of you. The bed shifts as he climbs off of it and scrambles to pull on his sweatpants before he’s at your side—you’re still on your hands and knees, an unmistakable look of panic on your face. He puts a gentle hand on your back. “Baby, are you alright?”

Your heart is pounding, your breathing labored but you manage a small, tight nod of your head. “I-I’m fine. I just—” Stopping, you grip the sheets tighter, warm tears brimming your eyes. Shame over what you’ve just done is already creeping in and sinking into your bones.

“Are you hurt, sweetheart? Did I hurt you?”

Joel’s voice is calm, but you can hear the concern that laces his tone.

“No.” Your own voice is small. “No. You didn’t hurt me.”

“Is it alright if I move you?” he asks. When you nod your head, he reaches out for you and helps you to sit on the side of the bed. Dropping to his knees in front of you, he takes your hands and his and feels his stomach sink when he realizes they’re ice cold; he begins rubbing them between his own to warm them up. “Baby if I hurt you, you need to tell m—”

“I promise, you didn’t hurt me,” you reassure him, swallowing the thickness rising in the back of your throat. You clock the skepticism in his dark brown eyes and a tear slips out, rolls down your face, and splatters onto your bare thigh. “I’m not lying, Joel. I swear.” Tugging one of your hands out of his, you reach up and instinctively clasp it around the blue sapphire pendant hanging from the delicate, gold chain around your neck—he’d presented you with his birthstone last year, not only as a symbol of his ownership of you, but also as a beautiful reminder of your commitment to one another. “You believe me, don’t you? You believe I’m telling the truth?”

Joel’s expression softens. “‘Course I do, baby.” He cups the side of your face gently, brushing away a second teardrop with his thumb. “But I’d really like to know what happened so I can figure out how to best help, okay? Can you tell me what happened?”

Embarrassed, you try turning your head away, but he holds your cheek in his hand, gentle but firm.

“S’okay. You can talk to me,” he encourages softly, his gaze meeting yours once again. “Tell me.”

“It was just too much,” you mumble, meekly. “And too intense.” Heat floods your face as you admit to him, “You were right. I just wasn’t—I wasn’t ready for that yet.”

In an effort to lighten your mood, Joel lightly gives your cheek a delicate pinch and chuckles.

“Daddy’s got that real annoyin’ habit of bein’ right ‘bout a lot of things, don’t he?”

“I’m sorry.” Your bottom lip quivers. “I’m so sorry.”

His smile falters. “Sorry for what?”

“For using the safe word—”

Joel’s eyebrows shoot up in surprise. “Y’know you ain’t supposed to apologize for needin’ to use your safe word, right? That ain’t how it works, darlin’.”

Dropping your necklace, you place your hand over his on your cheek. “But I feel bad,” you confess. “It makes me feel like—like I let you down, you know? And that’s the last thing I want to do. I just wanted to be really good for you.”

“Oh baby.” Joel lifts himself from the floor. He sits on the bed and pulls you onto his lap, brushing his lips against your temple. “You are such a good girl for me, sweetheart.”

“But I couldn’t take it,” you sniff. “I had to stop.”

“And that’s okay,” he assures you. He wraps you in his arms and gives your body a gentle squeeze. “It ain’t nothin’ to be ashamed ‘bout. You’re still really new to a lot of this stuff, y’know? S’why I told you I didn’t think you were ready.”

“I should’ve listened to you.”

He winks. “You should always listen to Daddy.”

You offer him a tiny, watery smile. “I know.”

“And say we try this again one day and it’s just not somethin’ you like or that makes you feel good—or maybe you never wanna try it again at all,” he says with a nonchalant shrug. “That’s okay too. You are still my good girl no matter what—my perfect girl. Always. You understand me?”

“Really? You promise?”

Joel holds up his pinky.

“Oh, you’re being really serious,” you tease him.

“Sure as hell am, darlin’.”

You lock your finger around his and he pulls you in for a sweet kiss.

“I love you, Joel,” you murmur against his lips. You giggle again when he clears his throat and smacks your ass lightly, playfully. “I love you, Daddy.”

“I love you too, baby.” Joel pulls away and touches the tip of his nose to yours. “How’s ‘bout we get in the bath and get all cleaned up? Hm?”

“A bath?” You instantly perk up. “With bubbles?”

“With bubbles. And I’ll even let you throw in one of those smelly ball things you fuckin’ love so much.”

You swat at his chest. “Hey! My bath bombs smell really good, thank you very much!”

Joel doesn’t particularly like emerging from a bath smelling like a petunia, but for you, he’s more than happy to bathe in a sea of them, glitter and all.

You trace his collarbone with your index finger.

“Daddy? After our bath can we just cuddle in bed? Maybe watch a movie?” He raises an eyebrow and you smile sheepishly, adding, “Please?”

“‘Course. Pick any movie you want, sweetheart.”

“And can we have ice cream while we watch too?”

He pins you with a stern look. “Alright, now you’re just pushin’ it and takin’ advantage.”

You jut your lower lip. “Please, Daddy?”

There’s no arguing with that, not tonight.

Joel decides to let you have your way. “Alright.”

The two of you spend quite some time in the bath; normally a bath together ends with him inside you all over again, but tonight, all he’s doing is running a soapy wash cloth with your favorite shower gel—japanese cherry blossom—all over your body as he sits behind you, lips pressed against your ear. Joel washes you slowly, carefully, and all the while he’s whispering sweet, tender praise.

My good girl.

My perfect girl.

I’m s’proud of you.

I’m the luckiest man in the whole world.

After the bath, once you’re both dried and dressed in comfortable clothes—him in a clean pair of gray sweatpants and you in nothing but his t-shirt, Joel gives you the remote and instructs you to pick out a movie to watch.

“Make yourself real comfortable, baby,” he says to you, kissing the top of your head. “I’ll be back with that ice cream.”

You shoot him a hopeful glance. “Strawberry?”

“You tryin’ to be funny with me, darlin’?”

“No! That’s just my favorite flavor, silly.”

Joel grins to himself as he leaves the bedroom.

He knows that. Of course he knows that.

It’s why he always keeps a pint of it in his freezer.

You hop into bed and pull the blankets around you as your scan through the guide for a movie—you’d just decided on The Notebook when Joel appears again, a bowl and two spoons in his hands.

“You picked The Notebook again, didn’t you?” he asks without even looking at the flat screen that’s mounted on his wall over the fireplace.

“You said I could pick any movie I wanted.”

“Was just hopin’ you’d pick one we haven’t seen a thousand times,” he chuckled, sliding into his bed next to you. Joel places the bowl of strawberry ice cream in his lap and hands you a spoon. “C’mere, my sweet girl. Come closer.”

You snuggle up to him, and the two of you dig into the frozen dessert as the movie begins to play.

“Baby?” Joel speaks after a while, just as Allie and Noah share a passionate kiss in the pouring rain.

“Hm?” you ask, your fixed eyes on the flat screen, your mouth full of ice cream.

“You sure you’re okay?”

Swallowing, you look up at Joel, meeting his gaze.

“Yeah, I’m okay,” you answer honestly.

“‘Cause if there’s anythin’ else I can do for you…”

You purse your lips together and let out a tiny hum as you mull it over for a moment.

“You can hold me closer?” you finally suggest.

Joel shifts in his spot. “I can definitely do that—”

You stop him and point to the empty bowl.

“After you go and get us some more ice cream?”

He exhales an amused snort through his nose and shuffles out of bed, taking the bowl with him.

“Don’t get so used to bossin’ Daddy around,” Joel warns you playfully over his shoulder.

“Too late.”

divider credit to @saradika 🍓

#tw daddy kink #tw: daddy kink #joel miller x reader #joel miller smut #joel miller fanfiction #joel miller fluff #joel miller x you #joel miller x y/n #joel miller one shot #joel miller drabble #joel miller x f!reader #joel miller x female reader

[kiwisbell]

Candy Girl [joel miller]

The before and after. Or, Joel fucks his friend's daughter for the first time.

my masterlist!

pairing: joel miller x f!reader

rating: 18+ [mdni]

tags/warnings: daddy kink, baker!reader, age gap (20s/40s), (sort of) dbf!joel, daddy dom!joel, soft!joel, angst, self-loathing, waxing poetic about eating pussy, unprotected piv (wrap that shit up like a pastry), creampie, cream pies, dirty talk, pet names, forbidden romance, tw for occasional stylistic omission of quotation marks, moodboard for aesthetics only

word count: ~ 6k

read on ao3!

a/n: hi, all!! please, as always, mind the tags for this fic - it's quite a departure from what i typically write, but daddy joel has set up shop in my brain and he won't leave. if this isn't for you, that's cool - you don't have to read it. i hope you'll be kind, and as always, i hope you enjoy!! xoxo

thank you HUGELY to my dear mya @cavillscurls for the absolutely stunning moodboard!!! i love you and i'm obsessed with you and you're crazy talented 🫶 and thank you endlessly to my parents sam and el @tieronecrush and @northernbluess for being AMAZING betas and always supporting me and my silly fics!!

CANDY GIRL

What have I done, he thinks, parting your dewy folds with two fingers and sliding his tongue through the glistening mess between your thighs, to deserve this?

He certainly can’t think of some good-enough deed to warrant him being here, tucked warmly in this apex, kindling a fire, rubbing his hands over the red of the flame, breathing sighs and gasps and groans into the sweet-smelling flesh of your thighs as if he were destined to arrive here. As if it were a mere quirk of fate, and now everything is gently settling into motion. 

Your fingers are curled in his hair and your chest—bare, smattered with a faint sheen of sweat and reflecting moonlight, illicit—is heaving. You have no instinct to steer him. Your hand knows no guiding push or pull. Your back is bowing off the mattress and your mouth is emitting needy little whines and whimpers and pleas for mercy, more, please, Daddy. 

And he’s acquiescing, toppling slowly into that heady pull of sticky wet warmth between your thighs, and all he can think is that you smell like cherries. 

And you are messy. Fuck, you’re dripping onto his chin as he licks through you, languishing in the prickling taste as if he's guiding his tongue along the salt rim of a glass. His fingers absently dimple your thighs, bruising, forcing them to fall open, part wider, for him. 

Let me in, baby girl. 

Thaaat’s it. My sweet girl. My pretty girl. 

So goddamn beautiful like this. 

You just relax, baby, and let me in. C’mon, now. 

You obey every muffled order like it’s law, letting him shoulder his way between your legs, his hand pressing firm on your belly, pinning you. The answering mewl he hears from your parted lips is the sweet slide of your strawberry icing along his taste buds. He buries his tongue between your wet folds and holds you tighter, dizzied with the smell and the taste and the feel of finally taking what he wants. What you've given him. 

Joel licks self-indulgently through your slit until your pretty cunt is slathered in his spit and glistens with your own juices. When he sees your clit, puffy and fucking needy and shining at him like a goddamn pearl, he licks his lips. 

Look at her. She’s fuckin’ cryin’ for me, baby girl. You need your Daddy to kiss it better? 

You whine, grasping his locks, still never quite urging or pushing, but begging: Daddy, I’ll do anything. Please, I’ll do anything.

Shh, sweetheart. Don’t have to do anything. Just keep ‘em open for me. I’ll make it good. Hear me?

A frantic nod. A reflexive squeeze of the hand on your belly. Eyes, watery and butter-soft in the darkness—wrong, risk—meet his own. 

Yes, Daddy. 

It didn't begin this way. 

Some of the edges are blurred with time. He vaguely recalls the time before you—mornings alone at the breakfast table, intermittent calls to Sarah all the way in College Station, long days on the job site because he had nothing else to come home to—and he’s bitter. It tastes nothing like the after: strawberry icing, vanilla perfume, cherries. 

It must have begun when Chris slapped him on the back after the scaffolding on the Queen Street job was taken down and said, “Couple of us are grabbing coffees at the Morning Star. You should come along, man. Get outta the house.”

The Morning Star. A slightly weathered pink awning and a varnished oak interior, a couple small tables (occupied), a flurry of activity in front of and behind the counter. A glass display case brimming with cakes and croissants and macarons. Glass vases filled with pink roses whose stems have been neatly trimmed. A pretty girl working behind the counter, tending to customers with an irradiating smile, a tender hand, the blinding glint of a bracelet, a pair of earrings, glowing. 

“What can I get for you this morning?” you asked him, like it was some secret spilling from the torso, a heart lurching from its cage, spread out on the ground. 

Petal-pink flowers painted on your fingernails. The aching attentiveness of your stare. Ekphrastic turns of phrases pasted to the wall behind the counter, in the form of a mural, crowd-sourced poems and letters and works of art. Lived-in, loved. The smell of cherries as you approached.

And then it was Chris, clapping Joel on the shoulder, a jolt of good-natured violence turning to torrent as he said, “The usual for me, honey.”

It's been wrong since that moment. Maybe it's been wrong all along. That doesn't stop him from ending up here. And it doesn't stop you from following. 

On your back, in Joel’s bed, your legs spread wide to accommodate his broad shoulders, welcoming the face-warming intrusion of his mouth between your slick folds. Bold in the way you curl your pretty polished fingers in his greying locks—he’s too old, much too old for you—and receptive in your soft moans and your uttered hexes of yesyesyes. 

Bewitched, he flattens his tongue against your pulsing clit and latches his lips around it, his eyes fixed on the way your head falls back, the length of your throat exposed, the evidence of your beating heart laid bare for him in the tremble of your pulse. 

He sucks on your clit until your legs begin to shake, and it’s the telltale squeeze of your thighs around his shoulders, the way you reflexively kick his back with your heel. But he’s pulling away, crushing his nose in the flesh of your thigh, nipping your soft skin, and the cry that leaves your mouth carves a tremor down his spine. 

Your tight little hole flutters with the need to be filled, to take him inside you, to make him wholly yours, the way he already is, the way you can never know. 

So he slides his tongue over your clit and lathers you in his spit and digs his fingertips into your thighs as if he owns you—because he never can. 

The flickering burn of regret and shame soothes when he's between your thighs, sucking your clit into his mouth and making you come so hard that you weep—leg kicking out, shackled by a firm hand around your ankle, back arching, fingers grasping, flexing, at whatever you can touch. You pour into him, molten gold, recast in his likeness, and he doesn't deserve this but he will take it. 

Instinctively, he pushes deeper, lapping your release from your messy hole, his nose pressed against your oversensitive clit—and he can’t resist, has never been able to, gently coaxing you through it, Poor baby, so goddamn needy for Daddy, sweetheart. Taste so fuckin’ sweet.

You’re whining, finally pushing at his head as the pleasure notches too high, and he presses a soft kiss to your clit before dragging his lips up your belly, between your tits, pulling you upright to sit you in his lap. You grin lazily and drop your forehead against his. 

Fuck, he's so proud. He smooths his hand down the crown of your head and skates his fingers down your sweat-slick spine. 

You tired, baby?

You nod, and he nips at your pouting bottom lip.

Hmm, but you ain't a quitter. You can give me another, can't you? You wanna be good for me. 

He whispers it all against the curve of your throat, into your collarbones, fitting his rough palm against your lower back and pulling your body flush to his. He sweats through all his layers and bleeds his warmth into you, but you don't care, grinding down on his lap, sliding your wet pussy along the hard length in his jeans. 

Your hand is slippery at the back of his neck and your eyes are lidded, sleepy, near-black, as you take what you need because you're a greedy girl when it comes down to it, and he's holding your bloody beating heart in his palms. 

I’ll be so good, Daddy. 

He knows. God, he knows—his lips find your temple, hair matted with sweat, and he can feel your tits pressing up against his chest, the erratic melody your heart sings to him, for him, through him. And he doesn’t deserve this.

Gonna need to take me out, baby girl. Go on, now.

You scramble, reaching between your bodies and unbuttoning his jeans, your hand teasing down the waistband of his boxers. Joel groans when you squeeze him, his teeth catching on your earlobe, nibbling from your jaw to your chin. He watches your manicured hand with its pretty pink polish wrap snugly around the base of his cock—you give him a firm, slow stroke, and he curses at the sight of your oh-so eager gaze.

Shit, baby. You're grinding your hips, smearing your wetness along his length, and he kneads your hip like dough while you grasp his shoulder, your head lolling. He bares his teeth, growling and snapping like a dog at the hot, slick slide of your cunt, his eyes a pendulum between the joining of your bodies and the heavy gaze you give him. That’s it, that’s fuckin’ it, take what you need. 

Your legs are trembling, too weak to hold yourself upright, and he knows, as always, exactly what it is you want. 

You’ve always been spoiled, because he’s let it happen. 

“Just a coffee,” he said, his third consecutive day in the Morning Star. “Please.”

He felt the twist of your lips in his ribcage. “I promise we have more than just coffee.”

“‘s good coffee,” he said. “Why spoil a good thing?”

He liked your pale pink hat and apron and the colour of your nails. He liked the way you feathered your fingertips over the till while you waited patiently for orders, the way you dealt so kindly with indecisiveness, the way your heart-shaped pendant glimmered when the sun dipped low in the western sky. 

He only knows it glows like that because you let him stay one night, long after close, to fix the hinge on the front door.

He’d known the Morning Star for a month. He knew it better than he knew you. 

“You don’t have to do this, Joel.”

An anxious shifting of your weight from one foot to the other, an intermittent four-fingered tap of your nails on the countertop, a soft weariness blurring the edges of your irises, as you tried to tell him you were fine, you could call your dad in the morning, please don’t worry about me.

The gentle in-and-out of your chest as you breathed, the golden near-evening light trickling the sun into the whites of your eyes, where it belonged. When you inhaled, he exhaled, the rhythmic pulse of life dancing between you, twirling carelessly on the edge of something neither of you could explain. 

“I wanna help,” he said. “And you should let me.”

You sighed, little of the charging bull and more of the huffing kitten, and his stomach lurched painfully. He wanted to touch you. He wanted to rest his hand at the crown of your head, soothe the tension in your shoulders with a measured press of his fingertips, unearth the blood-flecked bones that heralded emotions he could not yet name. Later, he would know them intimately; later, he would set his teeth in the white marrow and lick the blood from his chops. 

He wanted to ask all of his questions with his fingers, not his mouth, let you answer them the way you saw fit, giving that silent, haptic space the power it needed to pry open the parts of your life he could only guess at. 

But he did not touch you. 

Then, a time firmly lodged in the hazy somewhere of before-and-after, he could only pretend. And he could fix the door. 

Now, he’s gazing in disbelief at the way your tight little hole wrenches open around the weeping tip of his heavy cock, his sweaty body sliding along yours as you hastily shove the buttons of his flannel out of their slits and shuck off his shirt. Skin-to-skin, he feels your pulse ever stronger, licking and sucking at the juncture of your neck and shoulder. His palm is flat between your shoulder blades as he eases you open, helping you take his big cock. 

Daddy…

I know, baby girl, I know. Just a little more. That’s it—keep holdin’ onto me, baby. 

Petting you like a domesticated cat, fitting his fingers in the grooves between your ribs, feeling his own heartbeat settle into the rhythm of yours. You grasp his shoulder, the nape of his neck, your lips parting against his forehead, pressing feverish kisses to the space where his greying curls stick to his skin. 

You can take me, sweet girl. My baby. So good for me—

—the way you always have been.

“When my mom left, she gave the bakery to me.” Guiding the pink icing onto the small fluffy cakes, you moved seamlessly. Second nature, like laying mortar and brick. Your hands were speckled with flour and frosting. 

The vanilla cupcakes, robed in white paper, were a commission for a young girl’s sixth birthday. “Pink was Sarah’s favourite, too,” he’d said when he walked in that morning—perhaps too needy for a reason to connect. Blindly tossing a fishing line into a murky lake. 

But you still glowed when you had beamed up at him: “And now? She still a pink lover?”

“Haven't asked in a while,” he’d said, “but I’d reckon so.”

“She’s smart.” You had slid the black coffee across the counter and placed a cupcake next to it. Joel frowned. 

“What's this?”

You had lifted your brows, your eyes telegraphing a challenge. He had sunk neck-deep into your emboldened gaze. “This is a cupcake.”

“Smartass,” he’d huffed. “You got a reason for givin’ me a cupcake?”

You’d gently pushed them closer to him and given him that blinding, tempting grin, and how could he ever hope to decline you when you looked at him like that? 

“I value your opinion, Joel,” you’d told him, “and if you don’t eat it, you’ll hurt my feelings.”

He'd taken the cupcake and sunk his teeth into its pillowy flesh right there in front of you. 

“And your dad?” asked Joel, on his knees under the counter, replacing the latch on the display door’s hinge. “He help you out a lot?”

 An intrusive figure, playing unwitting God in the budding flower bed, picking petals before they were dead. He would always inflate the distance between you, assert his right to decide who you wanted, dated, fucked—he would always be Joel’s judge and jury. 

The executioner’s axe he’d take up himself. 

You topped off a row of cupcakes with little candied cherries. “He couldn't afford to quit, so I’m running the place. So much for school.”

Joel didn't like that. He didn’t like the way you let it all slide gently down your spine. There was a quiet defiance in the way you spoke—some simmering anger you buried deep in the earth where the colours weren't bright and your heart wasn't so naked. He could feel its veins as if holding it in his palm, the gentle ba-dum, ba-dum of a vulnerable organ so acquainted with disappointment.

“What do you want to study?” he asked. 

“Don’t know. Never got the chance to think about it.”

Never got the chance to find yourself. To learn. To grow. You had simply stepped into another’s body, a ghost, occupied endlessly with the next task and the next and then one more. You should've been spending your early twenties partying and studying and crying your eyes out over idiot boys who didn’t know how good they had it. You shouldn't have to be here, decorating cupcakes for a six-year-old while some old man fixed yet another broken hinge, latch, bulb. 

“I became a dad pretty young,” said Joel. “Thought I was gonna lose my whole life, all my opportunities, not that I had any.”

He did not deserve the empathetic shimmer in your waterline. “Joel, that's not true—”

“But,” he said with a faint groan as he rose, “I got to make a life of my own, with my kid, and I was happy.”

“You were happy?” you said wearily. “You aren't anymore?”

“I’m…”

He caught your eye and felt the plates far beneath his feet dislodge. Quantum shift. You held his gaze as if you were waiting for some truth to crawl from his sockets—like he was your answer. And Joel did not know what to do with that, but if you would keep looking at him this way, he would tell you any false truths you wanted to hear. 

“I’m lonely,” he said at last. Joel reached up and tucked a lock of hair behind your ear. A shiver coursed through your heart which lay in his palm, warm crimson blood trickling down his wrists. “And you shouldn't have to be. You’ve got so much life ahead of you, sweetheart.”

Some glacial melt keeled the weight of your head toward him, and your cheek was resting in the pool of his palm. Joel did not care for the hand of God whose fingers would inevitably squeeze the life from whatever this was. The jigsaw fit of your bodies felt so right in this incomprehensible sliver between before and after.

“You're not old, Joel,” you said softly. 

“Too old for you.”

He didn't know why he said it, but it made you smile. 

“You keep lying to me, Mr. Miller, and I’m not going to trust you anymore.” A wry twist of your lips. “You don’t want that, do you?”

Is this flirting? he thought to himself, so fucking out of practice that the concept felt altogether foreign. But you were giving him that foxlike look and his hand was still cupping your cheek and he could feel the flutter of your pulse, and he didn’t want to stop.

“No, baby. I don’t want that.”

Flesh meets flesh. Your hips drop, and you’re sitting so prettily on his cock, the whole of him buried inside you, stretching your capacities, shifting the dichotomy of right and wrong. He stares up at you—lips parted, eyes lidded, heart beating JoelJoelJoel—and pleasure pinballs down each knob of his spine. He’s locked in the tidal push-and-pull with your body, gravity sucking him into you, or sucking you down onto him. It doesn't matter. 

This is the after, and you're drunkenly nudging his nose with yours, trying to kiss him, and he's taking you. Running with the diamond. Sliding his tongue into your mouth, tasting cherries and frosting and giving you a piece of what he's already taken from you. You're sighing and moaning and greedily opening your mouth into him to swallow down your own taste. 

His hand slides up your spine to the sticky nape of your neck as he presses you to him, joined by every joint, every pound of flesh. 

And when he begins to move, to grind up into you and draw gooey, cloying gasps from your mouth, Joel thinks he briefly sees white. 

Jesus. Been waitin’ so goddamn long for this. You're so fuckin’ soft, baby girl. So fuckin’ beautiful. 

His teeth in your throat, around your earlobe, scraping your jaw, pleasure pinching, recapitulating, recovering only to start again. Your name on his tongue, passing from his mouth to yours, the anchor of your hand around his neck, the other on his shoulder, reciprocal re-stabilising. 

He needs you just as much as you need him, and he shows you in the way he pulls you firmly to him, because he cannot bring himself to whisper it into the barely-there space between your bodies.

“Joel, I’m sorry to call you so early, but I’m out of options, and the party starts in two hours, and my delivery guy flaked, and—”

“Honey, slow down. Lemme wake up, okay? I’m comin’ to you.”

“Oh, God, just forget I said anything. Go back to sleep. Fuck, I’m so sorry.”

He still remembers the break in your voice, the fragile warble of your resolve cleaving down the middle. He remembers the sting in his own chest like it was his wound, not yours. He was awake before the sun began to climb.

You had to personally drive the cake you’d made for a ten-year-old’s birthday party all the way across town now that your delivery service had fallen through. You didn’t even have a car; you took the bus everywhere, which Joel had chewed his tongue to pieces over for months. Things could happen in the dark. Public transport was no different. But your own father didn’t seem to take issue with it, so how could Joel?

“Don’t say a word,” he told you when you hopped up into his truck and opened your mouth to apologise. “I don’t mind. You know damn well I don’t mind.”

“You should mind,” you said, instinctively picking a piece of lint from his flannel with that miserable little pout on your face. “All I’ve ever done is ask you for things.”

“And if I like doin’ things for you?”

“Then I’ll put you on my payroll,” you countered.

Joel shook his head fondly. You cleaned when you were anxious; grooming and picking at him like a monkey should not have surprised him. “Well, I got a birthday comin’ up, if you wanna thank me.”

“Yeah?” You bit your lip and some of the heaviness sitting on your shoulders lifted, the promise of getting to repay him for his altruism at last eliciting the smile he wanted. “What would you like?”

You take me so well, baby girl. Goddamn meant for me.  

The hot, wet slide of your cunt up and down the length of his steel-hard cock has him doubling over, mouthing sloppily at your tits, sucking and nibbling on your stiff nipples as you cry and whimper: Oh, Daddy, please… fuck, that feels… I can’t—

He’s blinking hard to squeeze the bleeding edges of fantasy away—because this is real, and he cannot know if he will ever have this again. I know you can. You can take me.

A nod, frantic and sick with desire, slips against his temple. I can take it. Please—let me be your good girl. I’m good, good for you. 

I know you are, baby girl. So good for Daddy. 

“Joel!”

He had never heard his own name infused with such thrill. It settled in the pool of his gut and oozed out past his ribs. 

You beckoned him to the counter and placed a steaming mug between the pair of you. The umber liquid sloshed gently in the cup. “It’s a macchiato. And don’t worry”—you caught him before the gash between his brows could deepen worriedly—“it’s nothing like that sugar heap you'll get at a Starbucks. Two shots of espresso, balanced with the milk foam.”

Joel tried to smile, but he was sure it looked more like a grimace. “Milk… foam.”

“I know you're a coffee purist, Joel, but hear me out.” You scurried to the large black boards on the back wall and flipped one over to reveal the bright white writing—stark, vibrant, a proclamation you should’ve had no business making, not when it was so bold as this. 

NEW, it read in a pretty, looping font. THE MILLER. 

His heart leapt to his throat. And there you were, gesturing to the board with his name—Joel’s name—on it, and he was lifting the confounding liquid to his lips. 

Some of the foam accumulated in his moustache as he tentatively sipped and rolled the flavour over his tongue. It wasn't… bad. Not at all. A little too sweet where he preferred the bitter drag of a dark roast. A few too many frills. But—

“It’s good,” he said. Your answering smile decided it for him. He would never go back to black coffee. 

Fuck, baby, that's it. Keep on ridin’ me just like that. Oh, Jesus—

The slow, rhythmic slap of your thighs against his as you lock your arms around his neck and lift yourself up and down on his dick. Your head lolling around your shoulders, your brows drawn up in the middle. The squelch of your creamy cunt as you take him to the hilt and bring your hips down in measured, grinding motions. 

You’re getting yourself off, too, your clit rubbing against the hairs at the base of his cock, and Joel groans, Fuckin’ hell. Christ, that’s good. That’s it, that’s—

“Think I’m gettin’ fat on all these sweets, baby.”

He’d begun to come into the bakery on Saturday mornings, too, even though he didn’t work. With Sarah no longer in Austin and a dreadfully empty house whose groans and creaks only kept him up all hours, he had little to do but work, maintain the lawns, and, well…

Sat together at the table by the window, you shared a leftover slice of rich cherry pie. The awning outside fluttered gently in the breeze, cutlery and ceramic softly colliding as folks indulged in your treats. You beamed at Joel and reached out to swipe some foamed milk from his moustache. 

“I like you this way,” you said, your thumb coasting along his jawline, your eyes like jewels. The pendant on your throat dipped as you swallowed, settling in the hollow like a perching bird. 

Joel, white-knuckling his fork, felt his cock grow hard in his boxers, a heavy weight against his leg. The rapid shuttering of your eyes left him feeling inexplicably panicked. “I’m sorry. I didn’t mean to overstep—”

“No,” said Joel, his hand covering your knee beneath the table. You were wearing a little skirt that day. The silky fabric shifted under the coarse texture of the pads of his fingers and he wondered if the softness would be akin to the flesh of your thighs, your belly, your tits (sitting so pretty in that plain T-shirt: pink, of course). “No, you didn’t… You know I…”

And what could he say?

You know I’ve wanted to slip my hand down each one of those pretty skirts you wear since the first day I saw you. You know I take my cock in my hand and jerk off in the shower and I picture your lips around it. You know you’ve fucking infected me. You know I’m poisoned. You know I ain’t good enough. Youknowyouknowyouknow I can never have you.

“Joel, man, I’ve been calling your cell.”

His hand smacked the underside of the table in its hasty retreat as Chris rounded the corner and clapped Joel on the shoulder. “Hey, kiddo. You mind if I have a bite?”

And because you were so goddamn sweet, because you were a smart girl and knew how to play it cool, you gave your father your fork with a big smile and said, “All yours. I should get back. Thanks for the taste test, Joel.”

Chris easily occupied your seat at the table and Joel, adjusting his pants discreetly, was struck by how wrong this had been. To sit with you, sharing a pie, touching, wanting—

He was fucked. And he didn’t care. He only wanted more. 

“Cowboys kick off next Sunday,” said Chris through a mouthful of baked cherries. The warm, cloying scent reminded Joel of your perfume. “You want to come over for dinner? We’ll order takeout, grab some beers.”

Joel swallowed, rubbing his fingers over his mouth. He felt the phantom touch of your thumb lingering just above his Cupid’s bow. “Yeah, man. Be fun.”

Chris grinned over the pie—now his, no lingers yours and Joel’s. “Hope you don’t mind that I invited my kid, too. She needs the break.”

You’re close, baby. Can fuckin’ feel it. Feel you squeezin’ me.

Thighs trembling, muscles gooey, you struggle to lift yourself up, and it's Joel who scoops you up with a hand on your ass and lies you on your back, never once pulling out. He doesn't think he can. How did the first man to discover fire ever snuff it out?

He bends over you and thrusts deep, punching a sob out of your throat. Joel groans, nipping your chin as you toss your head back, his mouth trailing down the hollow of your throat, latching around one of your sore nipples, already abused by his attention. You rake your fingers through his tousled greying locks and lift your legs up around his hips as he fucks you slow, hard, deep enough that your heart begins to bruise. 

Joel hisses when he feels your fingernails scratching down his spine, between his shoulder blades, pulling him close to you. He dulls his pain in your flesh, open-mouthed kisses soothing the biting bruises he's left on your throat. 

Your cunt rhythmically pulses around his cock and Joel grunts, driving deeper, hand fisting your hair, and Daddy, I’m so close—!

Friday night. Joel’s birthday. 

He’d spent it on the job site, laying brick, then at home, cracking open a cold beer and calling Sarah, whose gift hadn't arrived yet. She sang him “Happy Birthday” from her dorm room and Joel smiled. All things considered, it wasn't a shitty day. Just…

Lonely. 

And you—

You were at his door at ten o’clock, shrouded in night in a way he'd never seen you. Not dressed in pink but black: sweatpants and a tight little tank top that made him swallow his tongue. You were holding a goddamn cake. 

You'd had a stressful day. He could tell. Eyes a little sunken, shoulders a little rounded, but you were still smiling, still holding up that cake—chocolate, circled with candied cherries, of course—and singing a weary “Surprise!”

Joel laughed—in shock, maybe—and rubbed his hand over his beard. “Jesus, baby,” he said. “C’mon in; it’s cold out.”

He helped you secure the cake in the refrigerator and offered you dinner: leftover pad thai and a beer. You accepted the former with a grumbling stomach and politely declined the latter. Of course, you were a wine girl. 

“I’m sorry it’s so late,” you told him, sitting across the couch while reruns of Happy Days idly played on the television. “Shit goes down at the Morning Star when you're not there.”

Joel shook his head. “I run a tight ship. You doin’ okay?”

“I’m strung-out, Joel, as ever. But fine.” Your conciliatory smile was so fucking cheeky he had half a mind to put you over his knee. “I hope your birthday wasn't a disappointment.”

“Couldn't have been,” he said. “You brought me a cake.”

You beamed. And the cord wrapped around both of your bodies jerked tighter. Joel was hiding his erection with the takeout container, too humiliated to let you see the hard band of his cock in his jeans. You'd run. You'd think he was a freak, a perv, a sleaze. 

He was all three, of course. Didn't stop him from wanting—

His cock driving deep inside you, achingly slow, back screaming for relief. Daddy, please, I’m… nnngh, please let me come! Daddy, I’ll do anything, please!

Shhh, baby girl. He rises to his haunches and dips his hand between your joined bodies, rubbing your slick little pearl in fast circles. Your eyes roll back and your head collided with the pillow once more. Thaaat’s it, baby. You gonna come for Daddy? Be a good girl for me?

“Joel,” you said softly, your food forgotten on the table, your body inching closer to his, now two feet apart at best. Your eyes buttery in the darkness, lips dewy with some pinkish gloss you always wore, gloss he knew tasted like cherries. He licked his lips. 

His hands flexed. “Yeah.”

“I’ve seen the way you look at me,” you said, bridging the gap, placing your hand on his knee, pink nails and soft skin and vanilla perfume. Joel sets his container aside, swallowing hard. 

“Yeah?”

“Mhm.” You were tentative at first, scooting closer, your hand gingerly exploring the length of his strong thigh, against the grain of the denim. 

“Baby,” said Joel, more a long-bated exhale than a word at all. Gritting his teeth, hands at his sides, he watched in disbelief as you explored him, your manicured hand gently palming the hard length in his jeans. The moan he let out surprised himself. 

“Tell me to stop,” you whispered, pulling yourself onto his lap, straddling his hips, your arms winding around his neck, perfumecherrieslipgloss—

“Tell me to stop and I will.”

Joel’s hands, no longer balled into fists, flattened against your arms and travelled their length, exploring your contours, dipping his palms into the curves of your shoulder blades, lodging himself firmly in the after with you. 

You shivered, and he liked it. 

“You need someone to touch you, too, baby girl.”

Not a question. You nodded anyway. 

“Words,” he demanded. 

Your lips parted and suddenly your noses were brushing, the pupils of your heavy eyes expanding, taking all of him in. 

“I need you to touch me, Joel.”

“I know,” he said, one hand smoothing down the crown of your head, the other trailing featherlight up your spine. “I’m gonna kiss you, baby.”

You nodded again, a little feverish, pulling yourself closer to him, your thighs squeezing his. “Please.”

The after began with you, the way it will end with you. And he's kissing you now, too, swallowing the sounds of your orgasm as you hold him so tightly to you there's no escape. Not that he wants to leave. Not that he finally has this. 

He's breathing life into your climax and burning it bright, hot, endless—that’s my good girl, coming so much for me, I know it's a lot, baby girl, just keep holdin’ me, that’s it, sweetheart. 

And he's coming, too, grasping your hips so hard they'll bruise, nipping your earlobe and your jaw and leaving sloppy kisses on your neck, spiralling out of control, squeezed so tight by your hot, wet pussy. He comes with a pinch of pain in his lower back, groaning your name into you, pitching up into a near-whine as you milk him, guide him, coax him. 

Fuck, fuck… goddamn—

Daddy, I need your cum. Please come inside me. 

I will, baby girl, I will… Jesus—

It's so warm and slick where his cock begins to pulse inside you that he couldn't pull out if he wanted to. He empties himself, absolves himself, no longer a sinning man but one cleansed. Your body begs for it, your cunt pulling every drop from him, letting him make a mess of your used hole. Joel grinds absently until it's too much, until he’s sensitive and softening and trying not to collapse on top of you. 

Your lip gloss is smudged. He licks his lips and tastes cherries. 

“You okay, baby?”

You wince as he pulls out of you, globs of cum pooling at your hole and dripping onto the bed sheets. “Mhm.” You pull him closer, asking for a kiss he happily gives you. 

“I feel good. I feel happy.”

He grins into your throat, littering meagre kisses in the junction there. “Did so well for me,” he mumbles.

“Tell me something,” you whisper, combing your fingers through his hair. 

He purrs at the satiating scratch of your nails, his head resting on your chest. “Mmm.”

“Do you really like the Miller Macchiato, or are you just ordering it to make me happy?”

Joel chuckles, playfully taking your nipple between his teeth. “It's grown on me.”

From here, where he can feel the thrum of your settling heart reverberate through his skull, Joel gently tucks the beating organ back between your ribs for safekeeping. Here, in the clear-blue space of after, he doesn't need to hold it to know he's got it. He only needs to lower his ear to your chest and hear it sing his name. 

tagging some friends who showed interest in the wip!!: @casa-boiardi @swiftispunk @ramblers-lets-get-ramblin @cool-iguana @morning-star-joy @party-hearses @5oh5 (i love you all 🫶)

#tw: daddy kink #kiwisbell's fics #joel miller #joel miller x reader #joel miller smut #joel miller x you #the last of us #joel miller fanfic #joel miller fic #joel miller fanfiction #daddy!joel miller #daddy!joel

[toji-girl]

this is for @dizazter-dragoon who asked for #30 from these prompts with t. fushiguro! I am so glad we found each other again! I deactivated my last blog so this is my new one lmaooo I hope you're doing well! and I'll do Hawks in a separate post ♡

tags: fem reader + explicit smut + makeup sex + slight daddy kink + creampie + slight dry humping + jealous! Toji wants to knock you up + comments and reblogs are always appreciated ♡

"I can't believe you would say that to my boss! That man signs off on my paychecks!" You growled as you reached up for the heavy earrings you put on earlier to take them off, the weight of them being gone was almost orgasmic as you pushed open the front door with a huff.

Your husband Toji followed after you grumbling something under his breath. "He wouldn't stop staring at your tits, what's the big deal?" He asked kicking his shoes off as the both of you stood in the entryway.

You looked at him and slipped your high heels off putting them on the rack then Toji's next, the force of slamming them down made the metal rack shake. "The big deal is that you told him that you were going to pluck his eyes out and put them in his dirty martini!"

He couldn't help but chuckle a little at the look that overtook the older man's face as he snaked his arm around your waist while you gushed with apologies and how your husband has no manners.

Toji shrugged his jacket off as he followed after you again, one large hand unknotted his tie as you paced the living room glaring at him when he plopped down on the couch man spreading obnoxiously.

"I don't care if that fucker built the entire damn buildin' from the ground up, no one looks at my wife that way, but me." He replied gruffly and frankly quite irritated that the night was turning sour.

The room was filled with a palpable tension that felt suffocating as you both stared at each other while you reached under your dress to roll your stockings off with an eye roll. "It was just a look Toji!"

He threw his head back and laughed as he finally got his tie loosened around his neck, his free hand grabbed the edge to wrap it around his fist as he sat back more. "Don't you always whine and bitch about women looking at me? What is that you say they do? Oh, that's right. 'Eye fucking me'. That's what your boss was doing to you." He hissed.

"I do not bitch and whine when other women look at you! It's just when they can see me next to you holding your hand they still look at you like that and you're one to talk! Mr. I Threaten People With Physical Violence For Looking At My Wife!" You shot back angrily.

Green eyes watched you shimmy your dress up higher until it bunched around your waist giving him a good view of your silk panties and he knew you were wearing the matching bra set.

He wanted to reach out and grab your wrist to pull you on his lap and give you an attitude adjustment but instead, he let you have your moment as you paced the living room undressing yourself for him.

"You just can't go around trying to knock heads together Toji because guess what!? You have a pretty wife and I have a sexy-as-sin husband, you are sex on legs! It-" You stopped and threw your hands in the air with a sigh of defeat as you sat down in your chair.

Toji rubbed at the shadow of stubble that began to grow as he finished unbuttoning his shirt letting it hang out as the both of you sat there stewing in your own anger, and you and him both knew that the whole fight was truly ridiculous, and really petty at this point.

Silence filled the room, but it still sounded so loud.

It was clear that this was going to happen. Women would check your husband out, even some men did and you would be complimented and flirted with whenever you two went out for dinner or something.

You both needed to get over it.

"I don't want to fight, but you can't tell my boss that, again, without him, I wouldn't have a job, and after tonight, he won't even look at me in the eyes. You got in his face...which was hot...seeing you like that." Your voice was quiet when you admitted it as you crawled into his lap.

Toji's lips curled into a smirk, the scar on the corner parted when he spoke. "I won't do it again, but I can't promise anything." He snaked both thick arms around your waist and pulled you closer to him.

You rolled your eyes playfully running your fingers through his hair and looking into his eyes grateful that you had a husband who wouldn't let anyone disrespect you, no matter who it was or they thought they were.

"I hope you don't have anything important going on tomorrow because you won't be able to walk." He murmured letting his fingertips trail down your neck and then to your bra strap that he unclasped with ease letting it fall into his lap hearing you gasp.

He traced your curves making you suck in a breath, he knew the art of teasing you until he had you melted into a puddle. Large hands cupped your ass as you found his mouth in a needy kiss.

Your tongue danced with his as he ripped your panties off, the audible rip of them made you pull away from him ready to give him an ear full. "Don't worry doll, daddy will buy you a new one." He teased knowing that nickname made you ten types of flustered.

When he leaned in for another kiss you nipped his bottom lip and scooted back his thick and powerful thighs rumpling his slacks as you pulled his belt from the loops on his pants before popping his button and tugging his boxers down the best you could.

"Impatient, much?"

Toji loved to tease you anytime he could but this time you ignored him and freed his cock that stood tall and thick, a few small veins pulsed under the warm and silky flesh while the biggest one throbbed under your palm as you wrapped it around him slowly.

His head fell back as you jerked your fist up and down while you moved to straddle one thigh humping it as you leaned in to let a glob of spit drip down to your enclosed fist, the wet shlick shlick of the handjob filled both of your ears as you sought his mouth again.

Your tongue slid against his eating his soft moans as you rutted your pussy against his slacks feeling the lack of friction irritate you which is something your husband didn't miss, not with how you pouted.

Before you knew it you were staring up at the ceiling with your husband slotted between your legs spreading them obscenely open to accommodate him and his hulk of a body, he slid his hands up to the back of your knees pushing your legs back to your ears almost.

"I think you just need me to fuck the attitude out of you, don't ya?" He grinned down at you slapping the length of his cock against your slicked-up pussy that fluttered around nothing, desperate to be filled.

You grabbed the back of his neck pulling him down to kiss him deeply as your other hand reached down to rub the tip up and down gathering more slick before pushing him inside slowly.

With his sack resting against the curve of your ass Toji pulled out agonizingly slow letting you feel how hard he was until just the tip was inside your gushing pussy he pushed back in quickly and sharply.

He huffed in your ear as he pressed down more into you keeping you pinned onto the couch cushions as he rolled his hips making sure to angle his cock deep inside you, hearing you gasp his name made him go harder fuking you into the couch almost making the frame shake.

The image of those men complimenting you about your promotion but why the hell were their eyes glued to your chest? "I should knock you up, fill up those pretty tits with milk, and then maybe those fuckers will know better than to look at my wife." He grunted deeply.

"Yes! Toji!" Those two words were the only thing you could babble out as he pushed you closer to your orgasm that ripped open at the seams taking you down into a pit of pleasure that consumed you.

Feeling your pussy milk him, Toji's own climax didn't take long either.

He buried his face in the crook of your neck, slowing his pace down to give both of you reprive as he filled you, thick and warm with his cum that coated the both of you as you both lay there panting.

"I love you, baby." You whispered when he pulled back to look at you, your words caused him to smile and give you a sweet kiss pouring all his love and emotions into one simple act.

#tw: daddy kink #tw: breeding #Toji smut #Toji x reader smut #toji x reader #jjk x reader #jjk smut #fushiguro toji x reader #jjk x reader smut #toji x you #jujutsu kaisen smut #Toji Fushiguro smut #toji fushiguro x you #toji fushigro x reader

[littlebabyyd0ll]

KINKTOBER DAY SEVEN, SIZE KINK

His heart beats for you, sweet little you, and his head goes wild for your tiny little hole.

Daddy!Ari x Smaller!reader

Warnings: SIZE KINK! Reader is described to be vv small & short. Stomach bulge from Ari’s monster cock. Kinda crybaby reader, lots of dirty talk. Dacryphilia. Not proofread.

18+! Enjoy!

Main Masterlist ! Kinktober 2023

It’s hard to think, hard to breathe when you feel so full. You feel like you’re choking on him, inhaling him, and he thinks it’s funny. He’s chuckling as tears fill your waterline and splash onto your cheeks. 

He’s rough and burly, so big as he crowds himself over your little form. “Is it too much, honey? You’re crying, poor girl, you can’t take daddy?” 

You can, you know you can, because you are right now. Ari moves a little softer at the sight of your running tears, and he mocks your little pout. You can’t help it — he’s just so big, fills you so well, your little hole stretched out over his hard cock. There’s not much more spreading that your legs can do, trying to accommodate the width of his waist within them. God, he’s such a monster, and it doesn’t help how tiny you already are. 

“I can!” You protest with a sniffle, brows creased together unhappily. It only makes him laugh more.

That makes it all the more worse, especially when you can feel his cock twitch inside you. 

You whine, pushing your wet face into the creased pillows beside you. 

“I know you can.” He mumbles pitifully, finally taking a break from his mean teasing. One of his big, calloused hands makes it’s way up your twitching body until it winds itself around the back of your neck, fingertips brushing your hair at the nape of your neck. “Always take me so well, huh? Prettiest fuckin’ girl with the,” he breaks, a grunt as you look at him with those teary bambi eyes, “tightest little hole.” 

“Daddy,” you cry, tiny hands pushing against his hairy chest as he picks up the speed of his thrusts. Deep within your hazy mind you notice how pretty your manicured nails look against him, a treat that he paid for monthly. Ari groans again at your broken whine, leaning down to plant hot kisses against your wet cheeks. 

He’s never loved anything as much as he’s loved you. 

Angelface you, who fell off your bike in front of his driveway. He had been out the front, sweating profusely as he pushed the mower against the overgrown grass – he’d only just moved in to the massive place, inherited it from some uncle he never even met. He can still remember catching your eye as you peddled past, the way that you had been far too distracted looking at his chest, the way that you toppled over into one of his bushes. 

He was enamoured the moment that he first touched you.

Being the natural savour that he is, he jumped straight away to save you. His big hands wrapped under your arms and lifted you effortlessly from the crumple of limbs that you had ended up as. And when he set you on your shaky feet, that was when he realised just how fucking little you were. 

The top of your head reached around the bottom of his pecks, leaves wound into your locks. You tried to stable yourself against him, the tiniest of hands splayed out against his stomach. He can remember the way that your big watery eyes had looked up at him, apologising excessively and trying to ignore the throbbing, bruising pain. He can remember the feeling of fullness overtaking him, forcing him to reach out for you, to try his very hardest to win over your heart. The same feeling stays with him now, the need to protect you, baby you, keep you for himself. 

So tiny and helpless. 

His hips stutter as he looks down and lets out a long winded moan, something that would surely have the neighbours concerned and stray cats replying to the call. 

“Look, baby. Look at how good you take daddy.” He’s not teasing anymore, instead moving your limp head to face downwards. Your vision is blurry from the tears, but you blink fast to try and clear your vision. Then you see it, the thing that makes his hindbrain cry out and push his hips faster. 

There, at the very bottom of your tummy, is a slight bulge, appearing and disappearing with every stroke he gives. He’s so big, just massive, a juggernaut. You're so tiny, look like some sort of pixie next to him. The hotness of the sight has your eyes rolling and a choked whine filling the air, matching the rough slapping of skin upon skin, and the echo of your slick. 

Ari laughs again, pushing a warm hand against the moving bulge. “Is that daddy all up in your guts, huh? M’fucking ruining you, kitten. Does daddy feel good? Can feel you clenching, tightest little hole.” He’s getting just as close as you are, he always gets blubbery and breathy when he gets close to cumming. “Best I ever had, you know that? Best fuckin’ girl. You're my girl, baby. Tell daddy you're his girl.”

Your tears are worse now, but you will always give him what he needs. “I-I’m your girl, daddy. Always your girl -ah!- please, please.” Your breathing is rough and troubled. Your hand pushes against him, but all your pussy does is pull him in deeper. “S-So big. I can’t– M’gonna come.”

“Fuck. Sweetest girl. Make the cutest little mess. Come for me, angel. I got you. Daddy’s got you.”

It’s white hot, the pleasure. It grabs you and swallows you whole, has you shaking and creaming all over his cock. Your squeaks and whines are enough to push him to the edge too, and Ari pulls your tiny frame into a bear hug as he paints your rippling walls white. Ari shudders with you. Mouthing at your jaw, his warmth completely encompasses you. The gentle giant is so good to you, shushing your tired cries as he slips out of your wet cunt, thumbing away the tears at your cheeks. He keeps you there, small and tucked away, like his own little secret, like something fragile and tiny, like his most precious of keepsakes. 

Like his sweetest little girl.

#<3 ari levinson #ari levinson #ari levinson smut #size kink #size kink smut #size difference #small!reader #short!reader #ari levinson x reader #dacryphilia #tw: daddy kink #kinktober 2023 #abby's kinktober ! #kinktober smut

[ddeadly-succubus]

Steve pinning you down and crushing you with his entire weight as he gently manhandles you onto his fat cock. You get all teary eyed and almost let out a sob as the tip of his cock slides inside your tight hole, no matter how many times he’s fucked you, it will always be somewhat of a struggle to take him all the way without crying.

“It’s ok, honey, just let daddy take care of you, yeah?” He whispers into your ear, hips rocking against yours as you’re smothered even further under his big strong body.

You slowly start to melt into subspace, still sobbing and whining as he slowly yet deeply pummels his cock into you. Steve throws his head back and lets out a sigh as he feels your gummy walls clench around his thick length, briefly taking a second to look up at you and admire how fucked out you already look.

“Daddy” you shriek in between sobs when you catch him looking down at you during a rare moment where your eyes were half open. Steve’s monster cock keeps punching into your womb as your tears continue to fall down your face making you even more glassy eyed and hazy.

He gently shushes you with a kiss to your cheek, before slowing the pace of his thrusts down as you proceed to bury your face in his chest. You’re completely consumed by how much stronger and bigger he is and it just feels so right, letting him take care of you causes you to slip even deeper into subspace. And before you know it, Steve’s flooding your womb with his hot cum.

#steve harrington x reader #steve harrington smut #tw: daddy kink

[tinycozycomfort]

i found the door

pairing: jackson era!joel miller x f!reader

day seven of @pascalisbaby and i's joeltober: edging -> read her day seven here

summary: Joel is a beacon, the warmth sloughing off his chest keeping you in that hazy place between tired and restless—the brightest slice of your vision.

warnings/tags: edging, daddy kink, c*ckwarming, touch of somno, unprotected piv, age gap (joel is 50s, reader is not), dom/sub dynamics, the tone of this is: they're in love, bulge kink, name calling (slut) + pet names (sweetheart, honey, etc)

word count: 1.8k

rating: explicit! 18+ only, mdni

a/n: i am so hashtag nervous about this one but very big thank you to @pascalisbaby for encouraging me and listening to me complain every day 🖤

main masterlist

“What is she, sweetheart? What do we call her when she’s drooling like that?” 

Joel noses at your chin, puffy stripe of scarring across the bridge dragging colder than the rest, lifting a field of goosebumps in its wake.

You can barely mumble at first, the swipe of his thumbs along your ribcage doing little to ground you, focus washed out with the low light that pools in from the window. His hands are firm—even in their spread—pinkies dipping into the crease of your side as he keeps you seated atop him, sweat-damp sheets taut where they weave between the folds of your knees. 

You’re pliable over him, hiked up and lopsided where he’s fixed you high in his lap, the shape of his cock outlined inside you to the hilt. 

Nights like this—right before the onslaught of Wyoming winter—he likes to just let the time pass, to make use of his body while it’s still skin-warm, no cold to slow his joints or frost to stiffen his muscle. He wants to prove himself capable, spry, even in his climbing age, to make sure you both know how in control he still is of this vessel, of your pleasure. 

He does it in the slowest way—the only way he sees appropriate—unwrapping you in pieces, biting away at the minutes like they’re endless, peeling away at the doubts he only thinks you have for him. 

Joel is a beacon, the warmth sloughing off his chest keeping you in that hazy place between tired and restless—the brightest slice of your vision. The valleys of his hollowed cheeks are deep, his restraint bound there in the tense sinew between his molars.

Only when he feels you deflate does he rock up gently, nudging at the apex of your womb, never touching—just the suggestion of what he’s able to find within you. He lets you whine and plead until you’re at the steep slope of your orgasm before stopping altogether, letting it wane, over and over, the pause to recoup shortening with each near-miss—a loop of ‘almost’s and ‘just-so’s that remind you he can take away as much as he can give.

“Hm?” He’s encouraging as he draws you from your stupor, a lapse in his unkindness—some space for you to right your wrong.

“A slut.”

Joel rolls back on the knob of bone that ends his spine, curling his hips up to give you just the slightest bit of friction. 

“That’s right. Little pussy’s being such a slut for me.” He shifts up again, just a beat to punctuate his point, the squelch that follows sounding out in the silence as if on cue. “Don’t know how you don’t fall all over yourself dripping like that.” 

You’re humming again in response, the last two full words taking more of a toll than they’re worth, voice scratchy from just how much crying you’ve done. The little analog clock on the nightstand ticks, tallying the painfully long stretch that’s passed since he promised to fuck you; that and the hour, maybe—or well over—since he decided he was going to make you wait for it instead. 

He savors this—the chance to make you up like some sleepy, weak thing that he can dote on, that he can thaw between his hands and mold into all of his beloved shapes, syrupy and unwound and enamored. He loves you like this, at his mercy, the heft of his strength and his promise enough to carry you through to the other side of content. 

He needs you like this. 

Joel reaches down to where your middle scrapes the start of his chest, grazing his knuckles over the swell in your lower tummy, rubbing at the wide protrusion that evidences his excitement. He flattens his palm over it like a bandage, uses it as leverage to put some space between you so he can get a better view, carving out more room where he’s hooking into you.

“Look at that. Got me so deep inside you it’s trying to come out. You gonna keep it in for me?” 

You’re nodding before he’s even finished, ready for him to bring you to another barely-peak, shoulders slack so as to not work yourself up, hope strapped to the last notch. 

“Poor thing. Had enough, honey? Ready to beg for it?” 

You huff before thinking, “I have been.” 

“No—crying at me isn’t begging. You have to ask.” 

“Please.” 

“Please…?” 

“Joel, can you pl–” 

He scoops up the meat of your cheeks with his free hand, fingers scalloping the flesh in a tight grip, wedging the points between your teeth until it feels like he’s inside you; he has you by your soul at this point, his hold runs so deep. 

“I know my girl isn’t that dim. How many times have we practiced this, sweetheart? Still can’t get it right on the first try?” 

He’s dead serious—frown severe—but you can’t help the curl of your mouth, laughter bubbling at the base of your throat. What a horrible, mean man he wants to be. In reality, he loves you more than he’s able to say most days, only leaning back on this game of obedience and correction and reward as a crutch when he can’t find the words. 

“Sorry, daddy.” 

Joel angles his fingers back so that he’s hanging onto the hinges of your jaw, the broad U of his middle-to-thumb long enough to give you room to speak and breathe and scream. 

His hips start to cant, the sticky swing of his cock inside you pulsing outwards, a fresh wave of arousal pooling at the joint. 

“There we go. Go ahead with the rest, then.”

“Daddy—fuck, please.” 

His resolve begins to melt at just the mention of his newly-appointed favorite title, a thing that slides between completely earnest and a silly pass at something new, not completely settled into habit. Even so, it’s sticking fast, the sheen over his eyes and abnormal measure of his breathing proof enough. 

“Please, what, sweet girl? You need daddy to make that slut pussy happy? You need to come?” 

Your mouth is wide open, nothing coming out but brief, irregular puffs of air that keep you conscious. He’s enjoying it—hoists his chest up so he can get close to your face, unhinge his own jaw, mock you that much more. He fails to not smile, head bobbing has he continues to fuck up into you with all the effort his body, and this position, are willing to allow. 

The hand pushing into your stomach falls, twisting at the wrist so he can toy with your clit, struggling not to slip in the web of slick that’s yet to dry where you’re connected. He’s determined, though—switches his thumb for the flat section of skin between his last two knuckles, gliding along the bead of skin at your core until you’re slumping forward, unable to take the whole brunt of him at full mast. 

“Oh, honey. Can’t even get fucked right anymore, can you? What’s gonna happen when you can’t take this cock? What do you suppose I do with you, then?” 

“No, daddy. ‘M just tired. Don’t stop, please.”

“Half-awake and the only thing you can think to do is ask for more. Now we’re getting somewhere.” 

“Yes, more, more.” 

“That’s right. Tell daddy how grateful you are. Tell me how much you need it.” 

“Fuck, yes. I need you.”

The fingers on your face pinch harder, throbbing as your cheek contours to the line of your teeth. Joel shakes his wrist, your neck lolling in his clutch as he commands your attention.

“Hey, I let it slide the first time. Don’t use that kind of language with me, girl. Be polite to me for all I do for you.” 

You’re too close to the end to say anything other than sorry, sorry daddy, the pitch rising in time with his movements, the burn of your climax worming its way up your spine. He’s equally as close, descending into the force of his movements so quickly he abandons his half-hearted reprimand, lashes clumping and wet, the line of his brow shining with sweat. He works at your clit with unwavering effort, sliding ten-fold as you begin to meet his thrusts, the two of you fighting to be on-beat in the work-up.

“I’m gonna come. Please. Please, can I?” 

“What am I going to want to hear from you before you do, sweetheart?” He tucks the bow of tissue that separates his thumb to your chin, his longer fingers plucking at some of the hair that's tacked down with wet—another show of sympathy.

“I love you.” 

“How sweet are you, hm—when you want to be? That’s my perfect girl. Just one more time, now.”

“Joel, I love you. More than f—more than anything.” 

He manages a exhale—his best attempt at amusement in this state—at the way you fumble to catch your own error, too close to the edge to afford another mistake. 

You clamp down with both hands on the forearm clutching your face, like more of you on him can better emphasize your statement and he moans, a high, ragged thing that falls out before he can contain it. 

Eventually, he accepts, “I love you, too, honey. More than you know.” 

You’re right at the cusp now, cunt seizing around where he’s driving up into you and he aims to bring you there before he falters, “Come on, let me have it. Show me just how much you love me.“

It's just a slew of yes’s after that, body locking up as the crest of your orgasm washes over you in flashes of white, so intertwined with him you don’t realize he’s made his way there as well, the sear of his release a welcome addition to the flurry. 

He doesn’t stop until your breathing evens, dropping his grip to wind his arms at the small of your back. He envelops you the way he wishes he could have to begin with, with all of the raw affection he needs courage to produce. 

“I mean it. Really.” He thumbs at the bumps of your spine, a swirl of something like guilt threading through his voice. 

You’re quick to dismiss it, dropping your head into the slope of his neck, the chill of September flooding in now that you’ve halted. You bring an arm up, fingers pleating into the hair he’s grown out in preparation for the season—a cut you suspect he’s kept because you’d mentioned taking a liking to it. You shuffle closer, knees slanted inwards to cradle him.

“I know, Joel. I’ll love you for the rest of my life.”

#tw: daddy kink #joel miller/reader #joel miller x reader #joel miller smut #joel miller fanfiction #joel miller x you #pedro pascal characters #the last of us fanfiction #tlou fanfiction

[bunicate]

omgeee mimi you hafta to mister yang hes such a icky and pervy old man! 💗💗 >w< every time you wear a tiny skirt he gets sooooooo sooo hard hes supposed to be your father figure but he wants to see your tiny cute pussy hehe 💗💗 he would cheat on his wife if he had one to be with a cutie younger girl (>/////<) 💗💗 !!!!!

- 🍄

⋆⁺₊❅⋆ 𐙚 ₊˚ warnings ꒱ྀི daddy kink. age gap. me not making any sense below cuz I’m deeply in luv with weltie.

mister yang believed himself to be an irredeemable man. he’s taking advantage of your pure young heart . . he knows he’s a father figure of some sort and his desire to protect you birthed something much more forbidden. instead, welt found himself conjuring up thoughts of your naked body — images floating around like clouds in his mind. 

pretty, doe eyes, plump trembling lips, the soft timbre of your voice, and your thighs revealed from your tiny skirts all tugged on his heartstrings. you were young enough to be his daughter and you behaved like it too. stubborn, smart, a little bit shy, and thoughtful just like how he’d want her to be, and that furthered his shame. 

he painfully remembers such thoughts even when sheathing his cock between the apex of your thighs. even as he uses the flesh until his seed paints the outside of your skin. even while he slaps his fat tip on your clit—rubbing his length all over your sloppy pussy, until you’re begging for your beloved daddie to put it in. 

welt knows better than to chase after such young women, specifically ones that idolize him paternally but you make it difficult to keep away. he is not immune to your naivety, your eagerness to please, and that tiny little cunt he can spend hours fucking. your moans, so innocent and docile can send waves of burning pleasure straight to his cock. 

especially when you whine out “mr. yang” and he has to coax you into calling him daddie instead. 

“I think we are way past the point of you speaking to me so professionally, wouldn’t you agree ?”

he’s reserved, even when fisting your skirt and pumping your limp body up and down his leaky cock. welt draws patterns on your skin, his sanity slowly weakens with each drag of his hips despite appearing the opposite.

he’s been good at being avoidant around you. he’s been able to refrain from touching, only settling on looking but now that you're finally underneath him, petite cunt gaping, his control is no longer within reach. 

“daddy —dada” you hiccup in between shallow breaths. the force of his thrusts robbing the air you breathe and you are forced to dig your nails on the wooden desk to keep yourself steady. every probe of his tip rubs your insides stroking the warmth inside of you to flames.

“that’s much better, sweetie . . “ his thumb rubs the sides of your lips collecting the drool escaping.

“how beautiful .” he dips his finger in your mouth and presses down on your tongue. your lips pulled together, puckering around the digit obediently as you begin to suckle. 

“daddy is so proud of you. look how good you are for me.” he angles himself to fuck you deeper, your breast jumping with every jerk of hips 

“hnn— too much—!” you babble with his appendage still buried in your mouth. your tight cunt puffed and creamed from his cock as you grew restless. welt didn’t slow down, he huffs into the side of your neck, 

“It’s okay, i got you. relax for me.”

his other hand reached down to play with your sodden clit. 

“papa isn’t done with you yet, I have a pretty pussy to fill.” 

welt babbles. he’s a man with infinite wisdom. he’s so mature and so articulate. he has to express how fascinating you are. was this the body of a younger woman? so soft to the touch, so wet and tight ?

he has an analytical mind, it is only natural that your daddie takes his time to caress and suck every inch of you. and he’s unintentionally foul-mouthed. he has a habit of talking too much and describing every detail . he pulls his cock out from between your walls and all he can talk about how amazing it is to see your hole gape from his cock. he’s enamored by your chubby lips being split apart to welcome him. 

“your pussy appears to be swollen. . . It seems like it was my doing,” and you can even detect something shy of cockiness in his inflection.

welt zeroes in on every twitch every squelch and he has to describe in vivid detail. even the drip of your cunt from the sound of his deep voice . . he’s so <33

#𝚜𝚙𝚛𝚒𝚗𝚔𝚕𝚎𝚜 ⪩⪨ .𖥔 ݁ ˖ #weltie ❤︎ #𝑚𝑎𝑖𝑙𝑏𝑜𝑥 ๑ ꒱ྀི #🍄 #i love mister yang so much #i want 2 be his #I love my old man he’s so perfie ugh #mista yang loves a gud girl /wags tail/ #tw: daddy kink #welt yang x reader #welt x reader smut #welt yang x reader smut #honkai smut

[red-writes]

On a dark and stormy night

professor! izuku midoriya x student! reader

summary: reader is in love with her professor and izuku is weak when it comes to you...

content contains: daddy kink, spanking, squirting, smut, the nickname 'little girl', reader gets her back blown out.

red's note: a little darker than what I typically write also am I slowly developing a daddy kink? who knows

it's pouring outside but you're not willing to turn around now. your hair is sticking to your face, your jeans are clingy and cold and you can't seem to rid yourself of the chill that the poor weather brings you. your finger hovers over the doorbell, hand shaking as you decide to press the small button. you've been to his house so many times but it feels different right now, feels like you're making a mistake. the lightning that cracks in the sky makes you jump and almost solidifies that gut feeling as truth but as you're about to turn around the door opens.

"y/n?" he asks, then he gasps and pulls you inside. his house is warm and yet you still don't stop shivering.

"you're soaking wet-- how did you get here?" he asks as he runs to the sofa and drapes you in a blanket, every time you've come to his house he always drove you seeing as he lived further than any professor on campus. he ushers you from the doorway after you kick off your shoes and you don't open your mouth to respond, instead you grab his arm and he halts in his tracks.

"are you okay? what's going--" his words get caught in his throat as he witnesses you. you've dropped the blanket onto the floor and you begin undoing the clasp on the front of your top before it slides off your shoulders.

"'m cold professor.." you say, voice small and izuku swallows hard as you unbutton your jeans, sliding them down your thighs before kicking them away. you unhook your bra and let your breasts free for deku's eyes to swallow whole.

"please warm me up" you plead as you reach for his hand and place it on your hot mound. izuku swallows yet again and his mouth is held open for a moment before he speaks, shocked at your bold display.

"you don't know what you're doing..what you're asking me to do" he says, but doesn't move his hand.

"don't you want me professor?" you look down at the erection poking against the fabric of his sweatpants. "it looks like you do"

he shakes his head 'no' but again makes no move to push you away and so you walk closer to him, so close that your chests are pressed against each other and he sucks in a breath, he can feel how hard your nipples are through the thinness of his t-shirt. he can't do this, he shouldn't do this. you're his student, someone who admires and looks up to him by indulging in this he would be way out of bounds. he could lose his job, he could lose everything.

"y/n..you're just confused. I know, after having those conversations about your life growing up and your father not really being there for you, having a person like me step into that role has you wanting to cling onto me, to have me fill the void of your dad but I'm not him and we shouldn't be doing this. if you leave now, I'll forget it ever happened. I'll pretend I never saw you like this" he states, firmly although his voice wavers when he feels your wetness soak his fingers from over your panties.

"fine" you say and pull away from him, izuku is relieved, thinking you've finally come to your senses but instead you pull down your underwear and kick them to the side, you bend over the back of his couch and spread your pussy lips open for him to see.

"you're right professor, I want you to be my daddy." you turn your head behind you to look at him and your fingers find your clit as you rub circles onto the twitching bud. "professor, don't you want to be my daddy? please say yes daddy...I need you" you moan and izuku's cock drips pre-cum into his underwear, cock hard and pulsing at your words. his feet are glued to the floor but his eyes are focused on every sway of your hips, every press of your fingers onto your clit.

"daddy, please, come fuck me daddy" you whine as you slip two fingers in your soaking cunt and begin fucking yourself with them. izuku curses under his breath and walks over to you taking your fingers out your cunt, he uses that same arm to pull you up and he smashes his mouth against yours. your hands are quick to find the band of his of sweatpants and shoving the grey fabric down his thighs, just enough to expose his cock. you lean back over the couch and he strokes his cock a few times before pressing the reddened mushroom tip against your fluttering hole. in one even thrust he's fully seated inside of you. the girth of his cock had your hands squeezing the back of the couch for dear life. every thrust he gave you felt like he was knocking the wind straight out of your lungs.

"does my little girl like that? does she love the feeling of her daddy's cock stretching her out?" and your cunt squeezes around his cock at the sound of the nickname falling from his lips.

"yes daddy!" you cry and he does as you ask, his thrusts become harder, rocking your body forward and his cock grinds against that soft spot inside your cunt, making your eyes roll as his fat tip assaults it with ease. he slaps your ass and the sting has your cunt squeezing his cock like a vice and izuku nearly cums at the feeling. he raises his hand and slaps your ass again, this time you cum from the burning sensation left behind on your ass cheek. your eyes roll back into your head and your body trembles underneath him as your orgasm washes over you. but he doesn't stop, he keeps spanking you until your ass is raw and bruised just so he can feel that vice-like grip on his cock. you're well past overstimulated, the feeling of getting your cunt fucked on top of having your ass spanked until it was painful had yet another orgasm drawn out of you a rush of liquid shot out of your cunt and onto the man behind you as well as the floor.

"no..stop daddy 'm squirting! stop stop aah!" you cried but he didn't, he couldn't, not when the girl he'd been lusting after for months finally forces his hand. not when he was so close to cumming. izuku looked up from the place where you two met and looked at your fucked-out face, eyes hazy with drool dripping out the side of your mouth. with a mumbled 'fuck' he felt his balls tighten as he came. his hips didn't stop immediately, his thrusts were shallow and he laid on top of you as he finished emptying his load into you.

he only moved off of you when he felt himself soften inside of you. when he pulled away a mixture of your cum dripped out of you and onto the floor beneath you.

"let's get you cleaned up" he says and you stand back up on wobbly legs and walk until you sit on the couch. he follows you and you pull him by his t-shirt to the floor in front of you and it's clear what you want him to do.

"daddy will you eat your little girls pussy, please?"

izuku gulps. his eyes dart from your eyes to your swollen, ruined cunt. his cock was already beginning to swell with blood once more. you were dangerous but izuku just couldn't resist you.

#red writes— ੈ♡˳ #mha smut #bnha smut #izuku x reader smut #deku smut #deku x reader smut #tw: daddy kink

[lipglossanon]

M༙྇r༙྇.༙྇ S༙྇i༙྇n༙྇i༙྇s༙྇t༙྇e༙྇r༙྇

corrupt cop!leon s. kennedy x fem!reader

Warnings: 18+ so minors DNI, Reader is 18+, corruption kink, dark Leon, daddy kink, biting, dirty talk, oral (f receiving)

don’t like, don’t interact 🤷‍♀️ any typos or mistakes are my own, not proofread and also probably an overuse of the word good but eh lmao

divider: @firefly-graphics 💜

Editing to add: title of this is Mr. Sinister, pulled from the I Don’t Know How But They Found Me song of the same name ✌️

Part 2: Mirror on the Wall (Tell Me All the Ways to Stay Away)

Part 3: One Love, Two Mouths

Part 4: Embracing With Two Hands

______________

Leon likes to patrol the usual hideaways and make out spots in Raccoon City; although he’s in his late 20’s now, the spots are still popular and it’s easy pickings to write out tickets for loitering or underage drinking.

He doesn’t stake out Lovers Lane too often, but tonight he’s extremely glad he did.

He spots you, alone, walking down the pull off road headed out from the popular make out destination. Your arms are folded, thin yellow cardigan paired with a modest grey skirt standing out at this time of night. Your head is bent down so you don’t even notice him until he has pulled up alongside you.

“Lost?”

Your head quickly looks over at him and you give him a shy smile, cute dimples showing.

“Uh n-no. My date, he uh,” you frown, pretty eyes glancing at your shoes, “well, things didn’t go his way so I’m walking home.”

Leon’s eyes rake across your body, a low heat building in his stomach. You’re so vulnerable right now. He feels his pulse race in excitement.

“That’s a shame,” he clicks his tongue drawing your bashful gaze back to him, “I can take you home.”

“Really?” Another of those dimpled smiles grace your face.

“Of course,” Leon grins, boyish and sweet, “hop in the back.”

You climb into the back of the squad car. Leon’s eyes watch as you tug your skirt back down from your thighs as you adjust in your seat. He wants to sink his teeth into them, leave them bruised before burying his face in your little cunt.

You sigh in relief and catch his gaze in the rear view mirror, “I really appreciate it, Officer Kennedy.”

“It’s no problem, sweetheart.”

You give him your address and he nods as he pulls back onto the road.

A few minutes pass by as you gaze out the window watching the trees pass by like dark shadows on the glass.

“So you and your boyfriend huh?” Leon asks, drumming his fingers on the steering wheel. The anticipation is building inside him.

You look away from the scenery, brow furrowed as you look at the back of his head.

“Yeah, he um..”

You trail off, feeling embarrassed. You shuffle in your seat and tug on your skirt.

“He didn’t hurt you did he?” Leon’s sharp voice cut in.

“Oh no no,” your eyes widen with surprise, “he just wanted to go further than I was comfortable with.”

Your voice trails off as you bit your lip. Leon watches in the mirror. He loves the look on your face. Uncomfortable and unsure.

“Boys can be very hotheaded. Especially when they’re with a pretty girl. And you’re a very pretty girl,” he spoke, voice still tinged with that dark edge.

You feel your cheeks warm, eyes catching his shyly, “I-I guess.”

“No,” he shook his head, “I won’t have any of that. Say thank you, Officer Kennedy.”

“Thank y-you, Officer Kennedy,” you stammer out, wide eyed at his tone.

Leon gives you a lazy smile, “Good girl. We thank people who give us compliments, sweetheart.”

“Okay,” you feel a low pulse of arousal at his words, “thank you.”

His smile widens, “Anytime. I bet you’re just the sweetest thing, huh. No wonder your boy pushed his luck. I bet you’re still a virgin.”

You press your palms to your face, shielding your embarrassment, “That i-isn’t appropriate to—“

Leon laughs, “Yeah you are, just a sweet, little virgin.”

You press your thighs together, hating and loving the way he was speaking to you.

Leon’s sea dark eyes took in your flustered appearance, “Bet you’re wet right now, pretty girl.”

You let out a harsh gasp and Leon laughs again. You watch as he pulls off into a thick copse of trees, the road disappearing behind you before shutting the car off.

“I think you need someone to show you the ropes, sweetheart,” Leon murmurs in the quiet.

He gets out of the car and makes his way into the backseat with you. You press your back against the opposite door, pulling your legs up to face him.

“Officer Kennedy, I need to get home,” you whisper.

He shakes his head, “And you will but right now, I think I deserve a little treat, right? For taking you home.”

He grabs your ankles and drags your legs to lay out straight as he crawls over your body, boxing you in. You can smell his cologne along with the mint on his breath.

Your hands reach out to press against his chest, stilling his movements.

“Aww,” he coos down at you, “‘m not gonna do anything to hurt you.”

You bite your lip, wide eyes peering up at him, “You promise?”

Leon could jump for joy. You were so trusting which made you easy.

“Of course, pretty girl. I promise. I won’t do anything you won’t like.”

You take a deep breath and let it out, “Okay.”

“Such a good girl for me,” he lets his lips hover over yours.

Your pouty mouth has been tempting him all night. He gives you a quick closed mouth kiss that has you sighing. He presses more chaste pecks against your cheeks and nose before going back to your mouth.

This time, it’s a heated exchange of tongues and lips and spit until your gasping on every exhale and Leon has to pull away. He goes back again and again and again. He can’t get enough of your sticky sweet kisses. The glittery strawberry lipgloss has him sucking your bottom lip into his mouth before releasing it with a quiet pop.

He coaxes you to open up your mouth wider and pulls away to slip his thumb between your lips. You slowly suckle on the digit and that, along with your blitzed out expression, has his cock jumping. He pulls his thumb away only to smear it along your red, swollen lips.

“Pretty fuckin mouth,” he presses his thumb back in, “want it stretched around my cock tonight, sweet thing.”

You moan and suck on his thumb harder, thighs twitching and rubbing together. Your skirt gets rucked up from all the movement until Leon can see the light blue panties covering your pussy.

“Yeah,” his eyes darken, “god, I bet that little cunt is soaked right now, huh sweetheart?”

You whine as he pulls his thumb away, “I’ve never w-went this far. I don’t know what to do.”

He groans, “God you’re perfect. Don’t worry, I’ll teach you what you need.”

Leon feels lucky. Like he won the lottery the moment he saw you alone. He tries to reign in his excitement and take it slow.

He moves back to kissing you, thrusting his tongue into your hot, pliant mouth. You tentatively suck on his tongue and he presses his hips down onto yours, grinding the hard line of his cock against your panty clad pussy.

“Gonna make you feel so good, pretty girl.”

He manages to pull himself away from your lips and moves down to your thighs. He presses a few soft kisses into each thigh before latching onto the left and sinking his teeth into it. You give a sharp cry at the sting but feel dizzy with how much you liked it.

“Such a good girl,” he mumbles into the bite, eyes never leaving your face, “gonna do the other side now, ‘kay?”

And before you can even nod, he’s pressing his teeth into your right thigh biting down a little harder than before.

Your head falls back against the door with a low moan.

“Knew you’d like it, fuckin slut.”

You give a mewling gasp in response. Leon continues to litter your thighs with bites and hickeys until your squirming so hard he has to hold your hips in place.

“So fuckin good for me, sweetheart. Gonna keep you all to myself.”

Your pussy clenches at that admission, another low whine spilling from your lips.

You feel wetness slipping down your thighs as Leon slides his fingers across your panties and lightly strokes against your clit. He presses his face against the damp cotton before licking you through your panties, soaking them even further.

He presses an open mouthed kiss to your cunt, tongue lapping at the fabric before finally pulling off your panties and stuffing them in his pocket.

“Gorgeous. You’re pretty everywhere.”

After a beat of panting breaths, he gives a light smack to your mound and puffy clit that makes you thrust up with a wanton cry, “What did I say about compliments?”

You bring your tear filled gaze to his, “T-thank you, Offic—“

“Daddy. That’s what you’re gonna call me now, pretty girl.”

You moan, “Thank you, daddy.”

He smiles up at you, “Of course, sweet thing. Now I’m going to eat this pretty pussy for as long as I want.”

Your legs twitch but stay pressed open, “Thank you, daddy.”

“Good girl,” he grins, “so good for me.”

You feel another gush of wetness from the praise and the hungry look on his handsome features. Your hands flutter at your sides as he brushes his hair away from his face and turns back to the apex of your thighs.

He ducks his head down and licks over your slick folds slowly until his tongue is circling your swollen clit. You can’t stop the low whines and moans as you reach down to run your hands through his hair.

“That’s it, grab onto me if you need to, sweetheart.”

He goes back down on you and eats you out like a man starved. His tongue is thrusting into your wet clenching hole before slipping along your lips up to your sensitive clit. He places open mouth kisses over your mound until finally sucking your clit into his mouth and slowly teasing his tongue across it.

Your hips are jumping and pressing up up up into his mouth. Your careful not to pull his hair but your hands are scratching along his scalp making him moan into your pussy, the vibrations send you reeling.

“Please daddy, please please please,” you’re babbling, “Feels so good. You make me feel so good daddy.”

You’re nearly crying from how much tension is building in your core. Leon slips in a finger alongside his mouth and you feel your orgasm ramping closer and closer.

Leon continues lapping at your hole before moving his mouth up to your clit to softly suckle on it. He slips in another finger and crooks them both upwards. He continuously rubs against that spongy spot that has you clenching hard on his fingers. Your hips arch down into the motion of his hand before arching back up to his sinfully good mouth.

His tongue dips into your cunt alongside his fingers. Pulling back, he presses another sharp bite into your left thigh making you moan loudly and pull his hair.

“Fuck, that’s it’s baby. Want you to feel good.”

You tug him back down into your throbbing pussy and he moans as you press your clit against his lips. Leon mouths at your sloppy cunt until you’re moaning loudly as you cream all over him.

“So good for me, pretty girl,” Leon licks his lips with a grin.

“You want me to help you out now?”

Leon adjusts himself in his slacks, “No, we’re gonna save that for another time, sweetheart. I need to get you home, I’m sure it’s past your bedtime.”

You can feel embarrassment crawl up your spine, “I, uh, live alone so actually I-I don’t really have one.”

He turns his face to the side so it’s hard to read his expression, but you can see his teeth glint in a smile.

“Well now, sweetheart. Maybe I could stop in for a night cap, huh?”

#leon s kennedy #leon kennedy #leon scott kennedy #leon s kennedy x reader #leon kennedy x y/n #leon kennedy x reader #leon s kennedy x you #resident evil 4 remake #resident evil fanfiction #resident evil 4 remake fanfic #corruptcop!leon Kennedy #alternate universe #re au #leon kennedy smut #leon s kennedy smut #dark!leon #tw: daddy kink #leon s kennedy x fem!reader #fem!reader

[kneelingshadowsalome]

I read that "he holds the credit card above Engels head and tells her to only buy the necessities"... but what if she doesn't???

What if Engel just goes on a huge shopping spree and only uses his card. She's like, "You said you wanted to be the beard winner of the household anyway😇". And like she calls him her "sugar daddy" as a joke sometimes.

Ok this is from ages ago and got buried in my drafts, sorry!

König does not want to be called daddy :(( Or does he...?

CW: Smut 18+ only, daddy kink (?), flustered König

The shopping spree wouldn't make him angry. He wouldn't even be surprised: after all, that's what women do sooner or later if you give them your credit card. But rules are rules, and he has to take the card away for a bit now. He'll give it back when has to leave you again, don't worry, but it's on ice for now. He ends up scolding you softly, in the middle of the piles of all the new stuff you just showed him.

"I'll let it go this once, Engel. These are nice things you bought. But remember what I said: too much sugar is bad for you."

You look up at him like the most innocent being on this earth, clasp your hands together, and blink.

"But I thought you're my sugar daddy...?"

"Was... Was–What did you call me?" König almost chokes on his words.

"It's... It's just a joke," you try, not expecting a reaction like this at all. König simply scoffs and marches out of the room, credit card safely tucked away in one of his pockets. You can only look at his departing form, baffled and confused: König has never left you like this, like you just one-upped him.

He's on edge the rest of the evening and the better part of the night, too, tense and frustrated after his latest work patch and especially after you called him your sugar daddy. But that doesn't mean König doesn't seek comfort from you come nightfall.

And he always says you're lovely and cute when he makes love to you, even now when he's sweaty and slightly bothered, turning you around from position to position as if he's been away for too long and wants to feel all of you in one go.

"Am I your good girl...?" You whimper while looking up, doting and adoring while König is working you both into a frustrated release.

But the thing you can never get past is that he says you're cute.

He says it while his balls slap against you, while they get slick and slippery with your wet, he says you're cute when your cheeks pang with heat and your lips part, swollen and breathless, he says you're cute when he sees how your eyes can't even focus anymore because he's giving it to you so good.

"Of course you are," he coos back, "you're my good girl. My silly, sweet angel... Always so sweet for me."

He says you're good and sweet and cute, you're warm and make him so happy, how you're such an angel. And he holds your hand while he does it, kissing you while he destroys you with his cock, while you're breathless and brainless and about to cry and then, well... It just slips.

"Please, I'm gonna cum," you moan in his mouth, needy and about to break. "Please, please, please, daddy…"

He fucks up the rhythm of his thrusts, stopping only a few inches away from orgasm.

"Don't...call me that…!" He stutters through clenched teeth, all his tender cooings forgotten. Then he picks up the pace and loves you until you squirm on the bed, until you arch your back as you cum, helpless and wet and mewling around his cock. It's one of those orgasms that make you forget your name and his name too, your long moans and cries surely reaching even the neighboring houses where people are trying to sleep.

"You little–" he rumbles in your neck, still catching his breath. "What has gotten into you...?"

You don't know if König is pleased or furious when cums only seconds after you, balls pressed flush against you and weeks worth of longing shot inside you with a series of desperate grunts. He goes slack after that and collapses on top of you, sweaty and spent and powerful heart slamming against your ribs.

Poor man's world has gone off its axis twice this day, and you giggle a little, hugging him while he's there, still deep inside of you. You really shouldn't push it with your jokes, but you just can't help it. König is so easy to tease.

#answered #yandere könig #könig smut #tw: daddy kink #kinda sorta

[holylulusworld]

Pick you up

Summary: Daddy comes to save the day.

Pairing: Biker!Ari Levinson x fem!Reader

Characters: Bucky Barnes, Steve Rogers

Warnings: angst, bitchy girls, heavy daddy kink, caregiver Ari, sexual harassment (not Ari), implied violence, hurt & comfort (kinda), fluff, comforting, protective Ari

Read the prequel here: Let you down

Pick you up masterlist

“Daddy, please come pick me up. They are all so mean to me,” you sniff on the phone. “I don’t want to stay here. I thought this is going to be fun, but it’s not.”

The girls from your workplace watch you on the phone. They roll their eyes and huff.

“She calls her daddy to pick her up. We were right. She’s not mature enough for our little club. I don’t know what a girl like her wants in New York.”

You hang up and sigh. The plan to spend the weekend with the people you’re working with went down the drain the moment they started to talk low about your outfit, your make-up (or rather the lack of it), and the fact that you don’t want to talk about yourself with people you barely know.

Ignoring your nagging colleagues, you walk out of the living room to grab your bag and jacket. You will wait outside for your daddy to pick you up.

You exhale sharply when one of them follows you outside. “You didn’t have to call your daddy. How old are you, twelve?”

“Just leave me alone,” you shoulder your bag and grab the door handle. “I’ll be waiting outside. I want nothing to do with you and the others.”

It doesn’t take more than ten minutes before you see his bike. Your heart flutters when your daddy brings the motorcycle to a complete stop. He plants both feet firmly on the ground, making you shiver as you stare at his long legs.

You wring your hands as he kicks the kickstand down with his left foot and leans the bike on it. 

“Fuck, daddy,” you press your thighs together, adding pressure to your tingling clit.

Ari swings his right foot over the motorcycle to get off it. He takes off his helmet and grins when his eyes land on you.

Eyes glued to Ari; you swallow thickly as he shakes his head to tame his mane.

“That’s…her … daddy?” Your colleagues gathered outside to get a look at your father. Or so they thought. They didn’t know you called your daddy, not your father. “He looks too young for being her father.”

“You are telling me!” Suzanne, the leader of the little group harassing you sneers. “That guy is not her father.”

“He’s so tall and handsome,” Caroline says. “No wonder she didn’t want to play with one of the guys. She’s got a hunk at home.”

“A daddy,” Suzanne grunts. “I knew something is off with that bitch.”

While your colleagues watch you and Ari, he worriedly calls your name.

“Y/N, what happened,” Ari asks, furrowing his brows as you run toward him to bury your face in his chest. “Baby kitten. Do I need to break bones or faces?”

“They wanted to play truth or dare, and spin the bottle,” you begin. “I agreed, because why not?”

“Okay.” Ari hums. “Go ahead. Daddy is here now.”

“Uh-I didn’t know there will be guys too, I swear.” You feel Ari stiffen. A deep rumble emits from his chest, and you know, someone is in trouble. You only hope it isn’t you. “I didn’t want to spin the bottle anymore because they changed the rules.”

“What rules? Tell me about it, princess,” you relax and take a deep breath. Ari always makes you feel safe and calm.

“They said we need to choose truth or dare. I chose dare, and suddenly the guys from the company were there too. They wanted to play too and Suzanne said I must kiss one of them.”

“I’ll kill them,” he growls. No one touches you but him. “No one forces my girl to kiss them.”

“I refused and chose truth instead. I said that I cannot kiss someone else because I got my boyfriend at home. They laughed, but agreed,” You sniffle. “They wanted me to tell them about the last time we had sex. I refused and they made fun of me. Calling me an uptight virgin.”

“It’s alright, I’m here now. Even if you were a virgin, it wouldn’t be a reason to make fun of you. They are awful people,” Ari softly speaks to you. You’re already worked up and he doesn’t want to risk you starting to hyperventilate. “No one is going to hurt you.”

“That’s not all.” You whimper now. “The game continued. The guys joined us. After a few rounds, the bottle landed on me. One of them chose dare and they…they wanted me to…”

“Baby, what happened?”

“They wanted me to ride one of the guys’ thighs. I told them that I got a boyfriend and won’t cheat on him. At first, I thought it was a joke. But they tried to push me onto that guy. I cried and grabbed my phone.”

“And then you called me,” Ari concludes as you slowly nod against him. “Good girl. You knew daddy always comes to your aid. Let me just kill them for you.”

“Please don’t leave me alone. Please,” you sniffle. “I don’t want to be alone with them ever again.”

“Princess, come with me.” Ari takes your bag out of your hands. He wraps one arm around your shoulders to guide you away from your colleague’s house and toward the street.

“Where are we going…?” you gasp as you see the whole club waiting for you and Ari.

You forgot that they wanted to go for a ride. Guilt washes over you. It was Ari’s day off and he wanted to spend it with his friends. Now you messed this up too.

Steve, the boss of the club gets off his bike. He nods at Ari as your boyfriend points at you. “Steve will take care of you for a moment. You like Steve right? He’s a good man and will protect you. I’ll be right back.”

“Okay,” you whimper.

“I’ve got her, Ari. Do what you must do,” Steve’s features soften when you watch Ari leave your side. “He’ll be right back, Y/N. Don’t worry. Ari was out of his mind when he heard you cry on the phone.”

“Maybe we should help him?” Bucky, another member of the club asks. He sneaked around the area and heard every word. “I wouldn’t mind roughing those douchebags up. Break a bone or two.”

“Buck, that’s Ari’s job,” Steve warns. “If he needs our help, we will help. Give him a moment…”

Meanwhile, at the house, Ari barks at the women harassing you. “My girl loves her job and won’t quit because of you. If you ever make her life harder or just look at her the wrong way, we all will pay you a visit.”

“We…we didn’t…” Suzanne stammers. She never got yelled at by a tall guy like Ari before and is close to wetting herself.

“I know what you did,” Ari snaps at her. “Who is the guy putting his hands on my girl? Who wanted to force her to ride his thigh?”

“Uh-it’s him!” The other men point at the man wanting you to ride him. “He said that he wants her before we started the game. We didn’t have anything to do with it. It was all Suzanne and him.”

“You—” Ari cracks his neck. “Well, then. Let me show you what happens when you harass a woman.”

“Ari. Daddy,” you run toward Ari the moment you see him. “What happened?” You look at his bloody knuckles. “You’re hurt.”

“Did you give it to them good?” Bucky smirks. “I can help. Let me break a few bones.”

“Buck, stop. I know you are antsy since your girl left, but we’ve got no time to start a fight,” Steve grunts. “Let’s bring Y/N home. She had a rough day.”

Ari carefully guides you toward his bikes. He softly speaks your name and caresses your back. “I’ll bring you home now, princess.”

After a short ride back home you are in Ari’s arms. He whispers soothing words and nuzzles his face in your neck.

You’re lying on a soft mattress, hidden under the pillowfort you and Ari built for days like these. Days in which the world gets too much for you.

“You’re safe with me, princess. Always.”

“I know,” you mumble sleepily. “My protector…”

>> Prequel

Tags in reblog.

#ari levinson #ari levinson x reader #ari levinson x you #ari levinson x y/n #ari levinson x female reader #tw: daddy kink #biker!Ari levinson #biker au #ari x reader

[idcbabyialreadylostmymind]

chad eats reader out while ethan fucks her!!! 🕯️

Omfg yes.

Brooklyn Babe

Warnings- poly relationship, threesome, daddy/mommy kink, mxmxf, p in v, oral (f! Receiving), penetration and oral at the same time, lmk if I missed something

Surprisingly Ethan would be the one who would want to bring it up. Well more like needy for you to be on his tongue. He would whisper something into Chads ear before giving him the biggest puppy dog eyes in the world.

Chad would chuckle before slowing his thrust making you whine, quickly ended from his thumb simulating your clit.

“Our baby wants to be between his mommy’s legs while daddy fucks you.” Chad said as the words left his mouth it was clear it excited you the way you squirmed against him and the way your forehead crinkled in want.

Chad watched as his two baby’s stared up at him waiting for his word.

He was silent for a while a fake thinking face on just to tease a bit. “Please Chad, we’ve been good haven’t we?” You whine and Chad fakes sympathy before smiling for real.

“Yea yes you have does my sweet girl and boy deserve a treat?” He asked and your eyes widen a smile does too as you and Ethan shake your heads together. He laughs as he pulls your hips up a little. He looked at Ethan and motioned for him to begin.

Ethan immediately began, crawling close enough between you and Chad, he placed a kiss to your clit wanting to savor you he opened his mouth closing it around your clit making you clench around Chad who had slowly started his thrust.

Ethan’s tongue danced ballets across your clit, Chad has speed his thrust up and now your body has so much simulation not knowing who to call out to a lot of what you said was a babbles mess.

Chad maneuvered his hips slightly lifting his hips and giving you one particularly sharp thrust with the tip of his dick speared your cervix. He kept doing it the pleasure of being ate out and fucked at the same time as so immaculate you couldn’t stop yourself from cumming.

The broken moan came out as a cry as tears spilled from your eyes, your tight walls clamped even tighter around Chad as he rode you through your high, Ethan soothed your abused clit with his soft thumb.

Chad knew he was close, you were so tight he couldn’t last long, a few more thrust and then he filled you to the brim with his cum.

Supporting hisself with his arms he flipped to the right side of you.

You and Ethan sat on your knees looking at the fucked out male next to you, it seemed you still weren’t quite done. Chad hummed to himself as if he just decided something.

“Okay get to work then.” Chad said putting his arms behind his head muscles bulging. You and Ethan look confused at him, “Oh you poor dumb baby’s, daddy can’t give you everything just cause you want it, now show me what you two can do.” He says giving each of you two kisses to the forehead but a quick and teasing smirk right after it.

And then you and Ethan get to work.

#scream (2022) #scream 2022 #scream vi #scream x yn #scream x reader #scream x you #chad meeks martin #chad meeks martin smut #chad meeks x reader #chad meeks martin x reader #ethan landry x y/n #chad meeks martin x reader x ethan landry #ethan landry x reader #ethan landry scream #ethan landry x you #ethan landry smut #ethan landry #Ethan Landry x reader x chad meeks martin #tw: daddy kink #tw: mommy kink #sub!ethan landry x reader #sub!ethan landry

[littlebabyyd0ll]

KINKTOBER DAY FOUR, TRICK OR TREAT

[i changed the plot after naming this fic, so it actually has nothing to do with trick or treating xoxo]

Your daddy takes you to a halloween party!

Daddy!Bucky x Little!Reader

Warnings: DDLG themes, lovesick Bucky, slight mention of troubled pasts.

You are responsible for your own media consumption. Enjoy!

Main Masterlist ! Kinktober 2023

On days like today, you feel like the most spoiled little girl ever. Days where you wake up in fresh sheets and next to the person that loves you the very most in the world. He treats you all day, kisses you awake and gets you dressed. Bucky’s a good man, a great man. Never once has he made you feel guilty or inadequate for all that he does for you, both as a boyfriend and as a caregiver. His heart is as big as the compound that you live in, and he reminds you every day that it is for you and you only. 

Your tortured pasts brought the two of you together, brought out his need to be relied on, to have someone to take care of, and brought out your need to feel tiny and helpless, to have someone to take care of you. 

You beam at him now, and he beams right back down at you. His hands are caressing your arms, slowly pulling down the sleeves of your princess costume into place. It’s pretty and pink, a shade like ballet slippers and decorated in the smallest, most minute of sparkles. He’s dressed you happily for halloween, a dress he picked out himself. Steve’s party was already in full swing, but he couldn’t help taking the extra time to make you look party-ready. 

He’s dressed up too, as a shining knight.

His costume is far more tacky and cheap, but he looks as handsome as ever. You squeal on the inside — you wish that you could convey the way that you feel when you’re in this headspace, when you feel this little. 

“Do you remember our rules, princess?” Your daddy asks, slowly spinning you around to lace up the back of your pretty pink dress. 

“We don’t talk to people we don’t know.” You recite, playing with your fingers slowly and idly. Bucky had spent the time painting them shimmering pink, even stooped your squirming so that they turned out perfectly. “Stay close to daddy the whole time. Ask daddy if I need anything.” 

He’s pleased, you can hear it in his tone. “And? One more, baby.” 

You wrack your brain for a moment, wriggling your toes in your frilly little socks. Then, it hits you like lightning, “oh! Gotta say thank you to Steve for having us.” 

“Good job.” Bucky muses, turning you back to face him. His hands can’t help but reach for your cheeks and squish them together, your puffy lips jutting out. “My best girl, huh? You’re such a good listener, baby, m’so proud of you.” 

You’re practically glowing. “Thank you, Daddy.” 

“You ready, sweet girl? Think you’ll be okay with Daddy and his friends?” 

You nod brightly and raise out a small hand. Your finger protrudes outwards and beacons Bucky’s to meet it. He does, of course, linking your fingers with a great smile. Your hand looks so small compared to his bionic one, and it’s so warm, warmer than you’d think. He’s all human, and all heart. 

He holds your hand as you enter Steve’s home, even keeps them connected when the blonde haired man brings him in for a hug. Your hands do lose their hold on one another when Steve’s arms swallow you whole, and when he holds you tight and lifts you up the ground. Steve’s love for you extends just as much as his love for Bucky — you saved his best friend, made his life all the more better. How could he not love you? 

Steve loves you in any way that you come, and when he sees the way that you grip tightly to your boyfriend and that wide-eyed look you hold, he knows that today is the smallest form of you that comes, and he couldn't be happier. The hug that he gives you is warm and all-encompassing. “My girl!” He sings out with a laugh, swaying you in his burly arms. The raven haired man watches you both with a smile on his face. “How’ve you been, huh? You been good for your daddy?”

“Uh huh!” 

“She’s always good.” Bucky insists as he takes you out of Steve's arms and plants you back onto the floor, where you instantly curl into his side. His warmth is brilliant compared to the late-october air. “My best girl, aren’t you, baby?”

“You want juice, honey, or some pop?” Your attention is stolen by Natasha, who opens her arms for a big hug. You tae her up on the offer, looking up for permission form your daddy to go and see the selection with Nat. Bucky gives you a nod and a kiss on the forehead, watching you go with a familiar look on his face. 

One of the upmost love, and upmost adoration.

The blond haired man watches the ordeal with a smile of his own. He chuckles, shaking his head, “She’s real good for you, man.”

“I know.” Bucky hums, watching you blush as Natasha compliments your princess costume and straightens up your tiara. He can just about make out you complimenting her kitty cat outfit over the music and chatter. “Best thing that ever happened to me.”

You don’t manage to thank Steve that night. 

Bucky carries you out of Steve’s home with his arm pushed under your butt and your tired arms loose around his neck. You’d been so good all night, obeyed by all your rules. You had stayed close to Bucky and his friends, answered all questions politely and even played board games with friends of friends. Your soul lights up the room, your giggle infectious and, just the same as every day, Bucky finds himself wondering how on earth he got to be so lucky. He’s lucky as your feet dangle around his hips and your drool dampens his shoulder. The play tiara is now sloped and wonky on your head, close to falling off. You look a bit of a mess, but the prettiest mess he’s ever seen. 

Bucky lifts your sleeping form out of the car with a grunt, and sighs when he gets through the front door. He might regret it in the morning, but he lays you in bed still dressed up in your little costume, but for now, he gets to stare down at you lovingly, in your purest form, and he gets to hear your beating heart. 

And for him, that is more than he could ever ask for.

#<3 bucky barnes #Bucky barnes #Bucky Barnes fanfiction #Bucky Barnes fluff #Bucky Barnes x reader #little!reader :0 #daddy x little #little!reader #daddy!buckybarnes #daddy!bucky x little!reader #halloween fic #bucky barnes x you #kinktober 2023 #tw: daddy kink #abby's kinktober ! #avengers fanfic #avengers fluff #the winter soldier x reader #winter soldier #winter soldier fanfiction

[ddeadly-succubus]

Steve putting his hand over your mouth to force you to be quiet while his massive cock splits you open. He loves hearing you moan for him, but tonight he wanted you to stay quiet.

At first you didn’t think you’d like the idea of forced quiet sex, but the second his hand came up to cover your mouth, you started to melt into the pleasure and just let him use your body for his pleasure.

“Good girl, stay nice and quiet while daddy ruins you” he grunts as he fills you all the way up to the brim, feeling how your tight little cunt squeezes him.

Your body is starting to go limp from how much he’s been using you, so Steve momentarily stops his thrusts and tells you to nod if you still want this. The second you slowly nod your head, his thrusts are speeding up until he pumps a big load of cum inside you as a reward for being such a good girl.

#steve harrington x reader #steve harrington smut #i was high when i wrote this #tw: daddy kink

[elsweetheart]

hi!! i love your fics sm!! im such a whore for ellie and abby 😭 i just read your ellie headcanons and the one where you said she has a daddy kink is all i can think about.. i was wondering if you could write more about it? ty and love u!

i did say that yes … thank u for asking because i have been dying to talk about it 😋

this won’t be everyone’s cup of tea so if it’s not - keep scrolling !!

ellie williams x occasionally being called daddy

• so the two of you have jokingly been throwing around the word for some time. it’s one of those things that are kind of a joke but there’s some weird tension and weight behind it that you both refuse to address (because she’s thinking why do i kind of like this? what does this say about me? and you’re thinking the same…)

• it started when the two of you were doing some target practice deciding to clear out a few infected from outside the building you were staying. two slow moving corpses stumbled towards the two of you from the across the alley and she nudged you with her arm. “bet i could clear ‘em out with one bullet.” she promised, raising her gun with a confident but focused expression.

• “yeah right.” you denied, swinging your legs on the wall you were sat on behind her. you watched the two infected naturally fall into a single file line, and when ellie had the perfect shot she pulled the trigger— and alas, one bullet tore through both their skulls sending them straight to the ground. your jaw dropped, impressed as you jumped off the wall and walked up behind her. she turned around with a grin, jokingly flexing at you. “thats right, who’s your daddy?”

• it was obviously a joke, but her smile almost dropped clean off her face when she saw the speed at which your eyes glazed over, expression becoming lustful just for a split second before you got yourself together, covering your reaction with a giggle. she chuckled back at you, eyes lingering on you for a moment as the tension passed and decided to pocket that moment for later.

• after a few more instances where she’d throw the noun out jokingly it was etched into your brain and you were starting to realise that it was kind of becoming a thing. the two of you didn’t know how to discuss why that be, so you didn’t — however one night, when ellie had you face down in the pillows taking her strap pressing kisses to your back you were so fucked out that your mouth took control without your brains permission.

• “mm—mmph please daddy!” it was muffled and whiney but ellie heard you loud and clear. she didn’t stop to address it, infact after it slipped from your mouth you felt her pace pick up — a surge of stealth taking over her from the once jokey, now incredibly hot nickname. she placed a hand on your waist, pulling you to fuck against her and she sighed against the back of your neck.

• “thats it, daddy’s got you. fuck, babe.” she cursed at the way you were squeezing and grinding back against her strap which equally felt good for her. her calling herself daddy was the tipping point that pushed you over the edge, making you cum hard.

• when it was all over you lay in her arms, both of you catching your breath and cooling off— and when enough time had passed you looked up at her, and she looked down at you, the two of you bursting into simultaneous giggle fits.

• she pressed her mouth together in a smirk and raised her eyebrows. “well, well, well—” she starts and you giggle even harder, placing your hand over her mouth. “stop, don’t!” you squeal and she calmly pulls your wrist away with a smile, stroking your cheek as if to calm you down.

• “hey, i’m not judging. shit, i think i’m pretty into it.” she confirms and you smile softly, pushing yourself further up the bed to kiss her. ellie always gave you anything you wanted.

#tw: daddy kink #ellie williams smut #ellie williams prompt #ellie williams x reader #ellie williams drabble

[bellaramseysgf]

New tattoos (E.M)

Warning(s); Dom!Eddie,Daddy kink,casual dominance,ddlg undertones?,size kink,adhd/overly energetic reader.

Pairing(s); Eddie Munson X girlfriend! Reader

Summary; after coming back home from vacation you discover your boyfriend has a new tattoo.

A/n; don’t- I know I said no eddie fics for while but this has been stuck on my brain for WEEKS.

You nodded as your parents rambled on about being safe and to have fun,grabbing your bag from the car you left them to walk into the school. You were gonna spend the next few nights with Eddie since you’d just spent the whole summer in New York with your aunt. 3 months spent where your only communication was late night phone calls you were sure you cousins listened in on and letters. You were overly excited because Eddie said he had a surprise for you,one he thought you’d really enjoy.

He had hellfire first though so you figured you’d just meet him at the school to avoid the rather awkward conversation with your dad. You knocked on the drama club door and stepped inside. “Look, y’all’s lucky charm is back” Gareth commented and Eddie stood up rushing over to you. You squealed when he lifted you up with just one of his arms holding you close to his chest as he buried his head into your neck.

You giggled and held onto his neck waving at the other members who you oddly missed just as much. “Your back!” Dustin was up not long after Eddie and huffed prying you from Eddie’s grip. “Dude, you need to learn to share your girlfriend” dustin commented and Eddie scoffed. “with you? No way” regardless dustin hugged you and you hugged him right back smiling at how fond you really were over him.

“How was New York?” Mike asked as you sat your bag down to join Eddie on his throne. “It was alright. Nothing I hadn’t seen before” you slid between him and the table his hands reached out and held your waist before sitting back on his lap. You truly didn’t think there was a happier place for Eddie to be then right here. He went on with instructing the campaign and everyone once and a while you’d feel him squeeze your hips to stop the bouncing of your leg.

Eddie’s hands were one of your favorite things while they practically engulfed your own they just looked pretty. Pale and nimble you’d happily have them touching you in anyway all day you loved them. You especially liked his rings they really made his fingers look that much longer and made you think of dirty things. You subconsciously twisted his rings around his fingers helping keep yourself distracted to stop from constantly moving. You think he enjoys letting you do it just as much as you enjoy doing it.

However hellfire did come to a close and dustin was already going on about the next campaign. You helped Eddie clean up slipping his dice into there separate pouches and noticing a few new ones he got that had Tiny skulls painted on them. Eddie kept all his dnd dice separated by design and highest numbers he was very ocd about it but you managed to get it right every time.

You handed him the velvet bag of dice and he kissed your forehead finishing up. You bent down to pick your bag back up “AYE!” You jumped when you heard eddie yell “no ma’am I carry that, thank you!” He proudly picked you bag up and you smiled as he walked you to his van. He put the things Into the back while you slid into the passenger seat “how was Hawkins without me?” You asked as he climbed inside.

“Fucking unbearable. Well, me and Steve became sorta friends so not that bad” yes,Steve Harrington one of your best friends and ex co workers. “Soooo” you said and Eddie glanced up at you before focusing back on the road “so, what? If you want something you need to ask clearly baby” you rolled your eyes and huffed. “You said you had a surprise for me” Eddie nodded “impatient little thing, I’ll show you once we get back to the trailer” you pouted and crossed your arm.

“Hey.” Eddie’s voice turned more stern like how it does right after you break rules. “Don’t pout or I won’t let you see anything.” The added pressure to the word anything quickly made you stop your little pout.

Eddie finally pulled into his trailer park and came to a stop outside his own. You quickly slid out and helped him unlock the door since his hands were full. “Where’s Wayne?” You asked and Eddie shrugged “I’ve no clue but he’s off so maybe he’s just out” you nodded and made a b-line for his room. It smelled of cheep cologne,weed and oddly old metal. You wasted no time and tugged your shirt over your head swapping it for one of his Metallica ones that engulfed you.

“Always stealing my shit. You’re such a little thief” he teased and you smiled “admit it, you like that I steal your shit” he gasped dramatically “such bad language. You outta wash your mouth out with soap little girl” you smiled up at him working your doe eyes to look innocent like you always did. “Will daddy do it for me?” You asked tone soft and brimming with faux innocence “just want my fingers down your throat, naughty thing” you giggled and he placed a wet kiss to your lips.

“What’s my surprise?” You asked and Eddie sighed “Jesus, fine.” He hooked his arms under his shirt and tugged it over his head. Your eyes scanned over the tattoos that littered his chest a mischievous grin settling over your lips. You wanted to trace everyone one of them with your tongue. “I missed your tattoos” you went to wrap your arms around his neck but he stopped you “excuse me, there’s a new one.” You furrowed your brows and scanned over his chest once more.

Suddenly your eyes landed on the black ink settled on the right side of his lower abdomen. The tattoo read off the name ‘daddy’ in your handwriting “holy fuck.” You said and Eddie chuckled “you like it?” You nodded fingers tracing over the ink. It was still slightly red meaning it wasn’t completely done healing. You giggled and Eddie watched as you looked back up at him “what’re you gonna do when we start going to the pool and people ask why you have ‘daddy’ tattooed on you?” He shrugged ringed fingers coming to hold the sides of your face.

“I’ll look at them dead on and say I’ve got a little girl at home that just loves calling me that.” You felt blush rise on your cheeks “then, I’ll go in to tell them just how cute you sound when your whining it because I won’t let you cum” “Eddie!” You huffed and hit his chest. “So violent, thought I trained you better then that” the whimper you let out was muffled by his lips pressing to yours heatedly.

Eddie pushed you back until your fell back onto his squeaky mattress grinning from above you. “My shy little baby.” He cooed dropping down onto his mattress above you,caging you in like you were a animal. He dipped his head down and you both heard the front door close with a slam. Eddie sighed and drooped his head his curls tickling your face as you giggled at his uncles bad timing. “Eddie! Did you get y/n yet?” He yelled towards the bedroom, his door was open but recently before you left Eddie changed his room around so you couldn’t see the pair of you on his bed. He sat back on his knees “yeah! She’s with me! We will be there in a sec!” He grumbled and got up slipping his shirt back on.

He was facing you so you took the opportunity before his shirt fell all the way down you sat up quickly nipping at his new tattoo making him hiss. “That hurt you fucking brat” he gripped your jaw and you smiled proudly up at him “sorry, daddy.” He eyes you for minute before roughly dropping your chin almost shoving it from his hand. Wayne knocked before peaking around his open door “there she is! My favorite daughter-in-law” you smiled widely and got up running to hug Wayne. He was just as much of your dad as your biological one.

“I got pizza for dinner if you two are hungry” you turned in Wayne’s hold to look back at Eddie “oh I’m starving” you said smirking at your boyfriend who just gave you a death stare. “Good,let’s eat” Wayne kept his arm around your shoulders as the two of you left Eddie in his room to go eat.

#eddie munson #fem reader #eddie munson smut #eddie munson x y/n #eddie munson x female reader #eddie munson x reader #eddie munson x fem!reader #eddie munson x you #eddie stranger things #stranger things fic #stranger things smut #tw: daddy kink