“Getting fucked dumb in the carriage” that would fix my mental health
Soap's hand around your throat, keeping you pinned against the wall of the carriage as he fucks you. His fat cock stretching you out, making you gasp and squirm. The carriage bumps and forces you to meet his thrusts, forces his cock deeper into your slick cunt. You gasp, shaking as he grinds against your cervix. You whine, scratch your nails against his wrist, try to get him to let up but it only makes Soap smile. He tips his head back, breathing out a laugh before turning his attention back to you. "Aw bonnie," He coos, "you're droolin'."
You stick your tongue out for him, let him see the way your drool drips onto hand. Soap growls, leans close to press his tongue to yours, licking it into his mouth as his hips snap against yours. The slick burn of his thick cock punches tight in the pit of your stomach, you do your best to arch up into him and he presses you right back down. "Never gonna let you outta bed," He promises you, "just made to take my cock."
"More," You whine, and he laughs again. God you're so pretty when you're stupid. Fuck drunk with your skirts pushed up, your legs locked so tight around his hips that he can hardly pull back enough to fuck you how you deserve. More, harder, please, you only need to know those three words. Soap will take care of everything else, you just need to look pretty and squirm on his cock like the good little pet you are.
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a/n: i’ve written daddy!shota plenty of times, but i’ve never written about how it might have happened. so here’s a hc dump? there’s a lil smutty drabble at the end.
if this isn’t your kind of thing, pls just scroll and ignore.
tw: f!reader, daddy kink (obv), ddlg, mentioned age play, d/s dynamics, pet names: baby, babygirl, sweetheart, good girl
totally blindsided the first time someone whined out a shaky “daddy” underneath him in his early twenties. almost busted instantly. he knew daddy kinks were a thing, but that was something people joked about, wasn’t it?… at least that’s what he knew. he also knew he needed to hear it again, but shoved the thought away as the life of an underground hero took hold.
kayama was the one who called him out on it jokingly when she snickered and threw out an offhand, “okay, daddy,” in response to his being demanding and she earned a nasty glare. she proceeded to do that for the next week, and every time, shota had half a mind to shove her face into any surface he could find and fuck the attitude out of her. but he never did.
got absolutely shitfaced with some friends and drunkenly confided in kamaya as uncomfortable as it was. he wanted answers, wanted to know that he wasn’t some disgusting perv, and if anyone could understand, it would be her. while much more crass than he liked on the matter, she still had compassion.
thanks to kayama, shota soon finds places on the internet where real people are involved in “ddlg,” and a comfort settles in his chest knowing that what’s in his head actually exists.
there’s something that makes his body run hot seeing real people in innocent, frilly clothes, printed, childish panties, maybe an oversized pacifier between their lips, snuggling with the cutest plushies he’s ever seen…. he’s not sure what to make of that, and it takes time for him to figure it out.
by the time you meet shota a few years later, he’s figured out most of his likes and dislikes, he thinks. he’s considered or been in a d/s dynamic once or twice, but most of his “daddy kink” experience falls into “something i like to hear in the bedroom.”
he’s pretty perceptive and picked up that you might be that kind of person long before it came up. it’s in the small things - the way you get flustered with certain nicknames or a particular tone of voice, how much you enjoy it when he’s forceful or takes control, the way he can almost watch your brain short circuit with certain phrases, with how he insists on taking care of you, etc.
he’s probably not gonna tell you until you bring it up or it happens naturally; yeah, he wants it, but until you push him, he’s not the type to demand what he wants out of sex (or in general) in a romantic relationship because that takes work… and because most sex doesn’t involve romantic relationships for him.
when it does come out, there’s plenty of discussion. he’s open with you for the most part because he doesn’t see a reason not to be. no matter how hesitant you might be, he’s unfazed by anything you bring up; he’s been around the internet enough that he’s at least seen the whole spectrum - everything from “daddy is a nickname” to 24/7 dynamics heavy on age play.
the first time you let it slip and call him daddy is probably in bed. he’s just fucking you that good. your head is spinning and fuzzy at the same time. your voice is muffled by pillows or maybe you’re tucked into the crook of his neck, biting into his sweatshirt. it’s soft, hardly intelligible; in fact, you were desperately hoping he hadn’t heard you at all.
but shota’s hearing is sharp, and he knows that what just left your mouth sure as shit was not “baby.”
so he leans in, his lips grazing your ear. “what’s that, sweetheart?”
“huh? n-nothin, jus’ feels go-” you’re cut off as your jaw drops and you moan.
shota angles his hips slightly, pounding harder into the spot that had you trembling and seeing white moments ago.
“c’mon babygirl, what did you call me?”
you whine. heat rushes to your cheeks. “no, sho st-stop, please,” you plead softly.
“if you wanna fucking cum, you’re gonna repeat what you said,” he growls. “you hear me?”
another hesitant whimper as you clench around his thick cock. shota grunts from the sensation and concedes, opting for a bit of encouragement.
his tone is soft and low. “i need it. let daddy hear you, baby.”
a shudder runs over your skin, your voice more akin to a broken sob. “fuck daddy, fuc-nngh, please don’t stop.”
shota’s heavy groan hits your skin as he pants, and you keen in response.
“that’s it. that’s my good girl, shit.” he presses soft, warm kisses into your skin. “say it again.”
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sorry i love sleepy imagines. you need to think about what its like when you guys wake up.
does one of you wake up earlier than the other? do they spend their time waiting for you to get back up admiring the peace of the moment, sending a few prolonged glances your way and tracing the contours of your face with their eyes (and maybe their hands, brushing their thumb over your cheek in gentle little back and forths) with nothing short of pure admiration and adorement in their eyes or do they busy themselves with something quiet and nearby, not wanting to risk waking you up by shifting around too much or making any noise? Or maybe they do get up, carefully and slowly regardless of how heavy you might sleep, to start making breakfast for the two of you, whether that be something big and hearty or just coffee for now?
what about when you wake up together? is it a lopsided ordeal, with one of you nudging the other to get up or to at least let go of them while the other whines something about the time and being comfortable? or is it more even, unable to leave the others side even if it means getting up? do you two get up quickly or do you spend a little time clinging to the warmth of sleep and company, laying still with one another in either peaceful silence or quiet, half-awake conversation about anything that comes to mind?
how does one of you wake the other up? do they try to encourage them verbally, soft-spoken words pushing for the other to open their eyes, or maybe physically, gentle little caresses and kisses left around in hopes the other will eventually start to stir? or maybe they let the other sleep in, letting them get some much deserved extra rest and simply greeting them with a little 'good morning' and a smile whenever they find themselves waking up?
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