Daddy's got you.
summary: you finally get yourself off but it's not enough and joel won't give it to you:(((( until he does 😇
tags/warnings: straight smut, crying kink??, praise kink, humiliation kink...., dry humping, power imbalance, use of daddy ONCE OK, soft!dom joel 🙂↕️💋
You’re still crying.
That tight, breathless kind of cry—your hands shaking, your thighs a mess, every nerve ending still fizzing from how hard you chased it.
You came, but it didn’t help.
Not really.
Joel’s hand is still on your face.
You nuzzle into it. Desperate. Small.
And he’s just staring down at you like you’re a car that broke down at the wrong exit.
Not disappointed.
Just... expected it.
“Didn’t help, did it,” he says quietly.
You blink up at him. Eyes glassy.
“No,” you whisper.
Joel sighs through his nose. Runs his thumb slow under your lip.
Then he leans in.
Not a kiss.
Just his forehead brushing yours.
“Y’wanna try again?” he asks low. “Try askin’ me right?”
Your bottom lip trembles. Your voice is wrecked.
“Joel—”
He shakes his head.
“You whine at me again, I walk out that door.”
Your stomach lurches.
You nod, fast.
You try. You try so hard to say it properly, but it breaks halfway through—
“I—I don’t know how to make it stop—I c-can’t do it without you, Joel—need you to help me, please—”
He groans. Doesn’t answer right away.
Just watches how you come apart saying it.
And then—
“That’s better.”
He stands.
You look up at him, dizzy. Lips parted. Knees weak.
“C’mere,” he mutters.
You try, but your legs don’t work right.
So Joel pulls you gently into his lap. Not soft. Just practical.
You’re straddling him now—bare, flushed, a fucking wreck. He’s still fully clothed.
He drags your hips down onto his thigh.
You gasp.
It's hot.
Rough denim, wet skin, his hand on your waist like an anchor.
“Poor thing,” he mutters, almost to himself. “You really worked yourself up, huh.”
You whimper. Rock forward instinctively. It’s instant. Like your body’s just been waiting to be told where to go.
“That what you needed?” Joel says, dry and calm. “Someone to point?”
You nod. You’re sobbing again.
And you hate yourself for it—how quickly your hips start grinding down, how hard you’re clinging to his shoulders, how your stupid little sounds keep slipping out without permission.
Joel exhales slow. You can feel the rise of his chest under you.
“You cryin’ ‘cause it hurts, or cryin’ ‘cause you like it?”
You try to speak—but it’s just a broken noise. Too overwhelmed to answer.
He nods like he expected that.
“Y’don’t even know, do you. Don’t even care.”
You’re rocking harder now. Shame making it worse. Better.
He moves his hand to the back of your neck. Not soft—just there. Holding you down.
"You're real sensitive, baby."
You nod desperately, agreeing with whatever hes telling you.
And Joel—Joel—just grips your hips tighter and pulls you down harder against his thigh. The pressure sends your eyes rolling back.
“Y’don’t even wanna feel good. Not really,” he murmurs. “You want someone to let you fall apart. Let you be a fuckin’ mess.”
Your head drops to his shoulder.
“I—I’m sorry,” you cry.
That’s when it slips out.
Tiny. High. Broken.
“Daddy—”
Joel freezes.
You tense—immediately shame-hot, breath stalling, muscles locking up—
But he doesn’t pull away.
He doesn’t mock you.
He doesn’t even blink.
He laughs.
Joel shufts his grip so your whole soaked cunt is dragging right over the meat of his thigh.
“Yeah,” he murmurs. “That’s what I thought.”
You moan—shameless, guttural.
He moves you for real now. Guides your hips back and forth while your breath hitches against his throat. You’re shaking, crying into his neck, absolutely pathetic.
“You waited so long to ask,” Joel mutters, calm as ever. “Coulda had this hours ago.”
“I d-didn’t mean—” you hiccup.
“Didn’t mean to, huh?” He huffs a breath. “You always mean to.”
You’re grinding helplessly now. Full-body spasming with every pass.
He holds your jaw. Makes you look at him.
“You gonna thank me for helpin’?”
You nod fast. Choking on it.
“T-thank you—thank you—oh my god—”
He hums again. Watches you shake.
“You’re doin’ good, baby,” he murmurs. “Daddy’s got you.”
