bakerstreet | Daaaadddyy

Daaaadddyy

Doesn't everyone like to be pampered and spoiled? You could certainly understand the desire. How about receiving the benefits of experience and knowledge...through someone else, someone older than you and more distinguished? Be good, then, and you'll be rewarded. Be bad - well, remember: a punishment isn't off the table for someone with your youth.

— OR —

They're so young - yet so, so tempting. But you know what they say. The more forbidden the fruit, the sweeter the juice. They're absolutely off-limits. And wouldn't you love to taste them, no matter if you feel guilty or not? Look at yourself. Do you feel like a pervert? This person could be an outlier, or maybe you've always had a weakness, even if you didn't realize it before. At least you can take care of them like few others chasing after them could. You know exactly what they want and need.

Comment with your character, information, and what role they'll play.
Is there an age gap? Is this actually illegal? It could be kink play, though, or characters acting older and younger.
Please note that there also doesn't need to be daddy kink "play" if you don't want it. There could just be an older/younger or an inexperienced/refined dynamic. Just be sure to clarify how heavy or light you'd prefer to go.
Older ladies are fine, too.
Reply to others.
Thread.

(possible) SCENARIOS
1. PARENT & CHILD: So, have you been bad? You know what happens to bad kids...
2. OLDER SIBLING & YOUNGER SIBLING: If the parents aren't in the picture, someone has to take care of business.
3. OTHER FAMILIAL RELATIONSHIP: Keepin' it in the family.
4. TEACHER & STUDENT: Don't stand, don't stand so, don't stand so close to me...at least not during schools hours.
5. DOCTOR & PATIENT: An apple a day keeps the doctor away, unless you want to play.
6. CUSTOMER & STRIPPER/DANCER/HOOKER: Older people have the money, younger people need the money. Surely something can be worked out.
7. JAILBAIT: One of you better watch out, because this is trouble with a capital T.
8. THE BABYSITTER: ...you've seen the porn. I don't have to describe this.
9. CHOOSE YOUR OWN ADVENTURES: If you don't see something you want, make it up.

Flat | Top-Level Comments Only | Expand All

[ 35 and a gigolo, you know what to do. ]

[mid-twenties, "bad girl" type. any interest?]

TW for: Definitely closeted.

Makes up for it with wit? Is that enough? Who knows.

[ younger! ]

[Unsurprisingly, it's tough to fit a much younger guy who likes to call you daddy into your life when you're actually raising a boy that... isn't that much younger than him. This is one thing Iwai never wants to have to explain to Kaoru, and that means putting Yuki off a lot more often than he'd like and settling for far too many trysts in his shop.

But then Kaoru makes a few more friends and starts to stay at their houses for the weekend now and then, and things get a bit easier. Iwai can invite Yuki over, let him in without any worry of the neighbours whispering because they'll probably just assume he's a friend of Kaoru's, and then pull him into a long, slow, indulgent kiss once the door's closed.]

Mmm... [There's a hot, hazy fondness in his eyes when he pulls away.] How's my good boy?

[ The first time Yuki said it, he hadn't meant to. It just sort of slipped out in the heat of the moment. But after feeling the way Iwai's grip on him tightened (not to mention how quickly the older man came after hearing that breathy little cry of daddy), Yuki figured it wasn't a bad thing.

Sure, not being able to do it at Iwai's place has been annoying, especially when he ends up genuinely being too busy to entertain Yuki's constant need for attention, but the guitarist has been pretty understanding about the whole thing. Especially once they finally do get to hole up at Iwai's, where they can explore this odd little relationship of theirs much more deeply.

The kiss makes Yuki grin against Iwai's mouth, a soft sound rising in his throat as he allows the older man to do as he likes. That fond look leaves a pleasant, fluttery feeling in Yuki's stomach, as does hearing that good boy. ]

A little lonely~ [ he purrs, long arms reaching up to dangle loosely over Iwai's shoulders. A playful pout appears on his face and he continues, ]

It's been so long, daddy. I missed you.

I know, baby. [He murmurs the words right against Yuki's mouth because he can't bear to pull away too far.] I ain't been taking care of you like I should, and you've been such a good, patient boy about it.

[It's still a bit amazing to Iwai, how naturally all this comes to him. By this point it's only half an act, and that half is mostly made up of the specific word choices that make all his affection and nurturing so erotic for both of them.]

Let me make it up to you tonight, huh? I'll do everything you like best. You ain't leavin' here until your balls have been drained dry.

[ Yuki doesn't understand why it feels so good, why it leaves him shivering pleasurably, when he hears Iwai call him baby. It sounds different than the way most people say it; there's something deeper, heavier, as though Yuki genuinely is just a boy needing to be taken care of.

And, really, isn't that exactly what he is?

It's a little fucked up, probably, but he doesn't care enough to put a stop to it. ]

Daddy... [ the word escapes him again but it's softer this time, needier; hearing Iwai describe what he's going to do makes Yuki embarrassingly excited, his pants going tight faster than he'd like to admit. The fingers of one hand shift to brush against the short hairs at the base of Iwai's neck, and Yuki kisses him again, hungry, parting his lips wantonly.

When he breaks for air, he murmurs, ] I miss having your hands on me... they always feel so big and strong, y'know?

[ Yuki's tall, but Iwai is a grown man, and in bed the difference between them is obvious. ]

[ younger ]

[ Could be either. He really has no shame in that department. He's into ladies, too, but tends to just use 'em and quit so would be off here. ]

( no incest, can be played at 16 or 20 years old! )

( would prefer to discuss ideas first. )

[Definitely the younger party.

[ younger. ]

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[Would you be up for a former First Son?]

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[Okay yes I totally love that. Maybe this is when TJ was a bit younger, like, early 20's? Want to discuss more via DM?]

[It's another day, and there's another headline about the former first son getting trashed at a club in downtown Chicago the night before. It's not untrue, but he's also not sure why it even matters. It's never made any sense to him why people give a shit what he does. He's not the one in politics. Never will be. He'd rather jump off the Sears tower. But his mom is pissed at him and he's nursing a hangover, and then Dougie had texted to express his disappointment.

Like this is what's abnormal, a 23 year old guy cutting loose at a club.

By evening, he's itching to get out of the penthouse again, because he doesn't like being there alone with nothing to do and no one to talk to, and if he does it for long, it's going to end up worse than him just getting drunk at a club. The craving for coke never really goes away, even if he hasn't had it in six weeks now. Since --

Well. Since his security detail had been taken over by a new guy. A new hot guy, and it had taken him about 2.5 seconds to realize he was in trouble. And still is. Maybe in more ways than one. Yesterday had been a night off for Brock, and the other guys only care about keeping him alive and they're perfectly content to let him do what he wants otherwise.

He's dressed in a button down navy shirt, the first couple buttons undone, and a pair of very tight jeans as he heads to the door, opening it with full intentions of getting them to drive him downtown but he finds himself face to face with Brock instead.]

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[Sometimes when a member of his security detail takes a night off, they don't come back. He'd done his best not to think that was going to happen with Brock, but in the back of his head he kind of assumed that's what happened. He'd gotten to be too much and Brock was just done with his shit, even if he's actually been on better behavior under Brock's eye than he has been since he was 15. Brock is also 100% more involved in his life than any of the other security guys ever has been.

So seeing him right there in front of TJ feels - relieving. But more than that, his stomach swoops with anticipation. Excitement. The way it does every time he lays eyes on the man. And this thing between them is probably very Fucked Up because Brock is essentially his bodyguard, meant to keep anyone from getting too close if they were dangerous, and arguably the more difficult task of keeping TJ from doing anything too stupid that endangers his life. And Brock is older -- twice his age, probably (he's never asked, it seems rude). It crosses all sorts of ethical boundaries, but TJ has never given a single shit about that sort of thing.

He steps back a little so that Brock can come inside the apartment, closing the door with a resounding click that signals TJ's not going anywhere tonight. And some part of him feels like it's meant to be a challenge. The assumption over the years has been that TJ turned to drugs and alcohol and promiscuous sex as some sort of rebellion against his parents and their political lives, but that's never really been the case. They just don't want to hear the truth of it -- that his brain is just an unpleasant place to be and if he's stuck in his own head for too long, he's not sure what he'll do.

But. He narrows his eyes at Brock's comment.]

All I did was drink, for the record. And what the hell's wrong with my jeans?

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[Drinking and getting shit-faced; there's really not much of a distinction in TJ's book. He drinks for the same reason he takes pills or snorts coke when he can get his hands on it: to numb himself. To cope. He probably could have scored all of the above last night without much issue, but he's still trying to be good. Mostly.

Still. The accusation stings more than it should, probably, because it is the truth -- but he doesn't necessarily like feeling like he's been caught and getting chastised for it. He huffs even as his gaze locks on Brock's form as he strips out of his jacket.

Instinctively, he looks down at his pants, cheeks flushing a little.]

You're an asshole.

[There's not as much bite there as there could be. As maybe there should be. But he finds himself following the other man anyway, sees him looking down the hall toward TJ's bedroom and his stomach does that whole swooping thing all over again.]

You're going to drink? On duty?

[There's a hint of disbelief in TJ's voice.]

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[The other security guys he's had over the years mostly faded into the background of his day to day life. Very few even bothered to talk to him, even if he'd tried to initiate a conversation of some sort. Eventually he'd given up. And then Brock had taken over as head of security. The pull he felt toward him had been instant, powerful in ways he can't really put into words.

And maybe he's surprised at Brock's willingness to drink on duty, but he supposes the man's got a point. Most people don't drink to get drunk like TJ does. And it's already clear that they're staying in tonight, so it's not like there's going to be any actual danger involved.

But when Brock gets up in his personal space, he shivers involuntarily, breath quickening in his lungs at the barely there touch of his lips on TJ's skin. His dick gives an interested twitch in his jeans but he nods.]

What do you want?

[His own voice is lower than usual, husky. He can't quite stop himself from reaching out, hooking a finger in the waistband of Brock's pants.]

(deleted comment)

[There isn't much TJ wouldn't be willing to give him, because once he's in the thick of something, TJ tends to be all in, even if that something is to his detriment, like his drug problem. He could count on one hand how many people he's gotten as involved with as he is now with Brock, and before him, there'd been no one since his last boarding school, when he'd been 17.

He bites his lower lip when Brock touches him, and maybe the pants had been a bad idea, but they make his ass look amazing, and he hadn't anticipated getting hard because he hadn't anticipated Brock being around tonight. And if his eyes are slightly dilated, it's not because he's been doing drugs, it's because of the nearness of the other man, and the desire that's rolling through his gut, ever-present when Brock's in the vicinity.]

I've got bourbon.

[He keeps a little bit of everything on hand, not because he likes all of it, but because over the years he's learned to be ready to play the role of good host. And he's pleased, that he's got something that Brock wants, on hand.]

Be right back. [His gaze drops momentarily to the other man's mouth, then meets his eyes once more before reluctantly pulling away to head to the kitchen.]

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[TJ knows, instinctively, that Brock is watching him walk away as he heads into the kitchen and a smirk tugs at his own mouth as he sets about pulling the bourbon from the cabinet, pouring a glass for Brock and considering for a moment what he wanted. He settles on tequila and pours himself a glass, putting the bottles back as he considers the question.]

Didn't really have a plan, I guess. Just figured I'd head downtown. See where the night took me.

[See what was going on. Probably drink and dance and do his best to avoid other substances. He picks up both glasses and heads back into the living room, holding out the bourbon to Brock and sipping his tequila.]

Wasn't sure you'd be back. [He pauses, realizing how vulnerable that probably makes him sound.] You know, tonight.

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[TJ's gaze darts to Brock's when their fingers meet, but he says nothing, waiting for the other man to respond. And he's not exactly surprised by the question. Brock tends to be pretty direct most of the time. His chest tightens, though. Both at the thought, and what he knows is the truth: that it's only a matter of time before that exact thing happens, because it's always what happens.]

Yes. [His answer is simple, quiet and honest even if the truth is more complicated than a simple yes or no. He'd be devastated, frankly, even if he's always trying to mentally prepare for that day before it ever happens.]

Would you be upset if you get reassigned somewhere else?

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[TJ's just as aware that it could happen anytime; that Brock could get called away, reassigned, that he might never see him again when it does happen. He exhales slowly, though, at the older man's admission that he'd be upset, too. He searches his eyes, relaxes a bit because he believes him. If there's one thing TJ's gotten good at over the years, it's at reading people.

Well. It's good to know that he's gotten under Brock's skin just as much as Brock has gotten under his. He smiles a little, watches as Brock sets his drink down and then cups his cheek. TJ leans into his touch instinctively, closing his eyes at the tenderness. These stolen moments are things he files away for safe-keeping for nights when Brock isn't there, for when he's struggling with the urge to call one of his old dealers for a fix.]

Not stuck.

[Stuck is what you are when you're somewhere you don't want to be. And TJ's right where he wants to be. He shifts closer, reaching out and resting a hand on Brock's hip, opening his eyes to look at him once more and letting his gaze drop to the man's lips.]

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(no subject)

occupationalhazards - 2023-05-29 03:27 (UTC) - Expand

[info in journal. the older one, here for your mommy kink needs. Looking for scenarios 1, 2, 3, 4, 7, or 8.]

Absolutely up for any of these, but especially 1.

[Can write either role!]

[ So he's going to be the younger party like 90% of the time but I'm down for the flipped if someone wants to pitch it to me ]

[ older and very awkward about the whole thing ]

[Avery's not sure what bar this is. In fact he's not sure what town this is, and he wouldn't be entirely sure of his own name if someone questioned him too intently just now. But he's been here since noon, apparently alone and drifting between different groups of people until the hour got late enough that there weren't any more groups to drift to: just a few lone drinkers slumped in booths.

He hasn't bought a single drink, but it looks like he's had around twenty as he drapes himself over the bar and watches the man behind it work on cleaning up.]

Do people call you daddy? I bet they call you daddy. Do you like it?

[He pauses, thoughtfully settling his chin into the dip between his folded arms.]

I could call you daddy.