It’s Been a Long, Long Time ❥
Pairing: Pre!Outbreak Joel Miller x Fem!Reader
Summary: You’re the school nurse at Sarah’s middle school and you’re volunteered to chaperone the school dance alongside her father, Joel Miller. After some other teachers upset you there, he makes a point of showing you how he feels while also teaching those assholes a lesson.
A/N: okay so i know i just wrote one but you guys were so sweet in the notes :) *sobbing* and im obsessed with him so another Joel Miller fic for you, this one’s more fluffy tho here’s a sweet, smutty one, inspired by that one scene in “The Lost Husband” YALL KNOW WHAT IM TALKING ABOUT, enjoy and feedback as always is appreciated >~< i cant stop writing him PREPARED TO BE SICK O’ ME
Word Count: 4k
Warnings: SMUT 18+, fluff, cheesy, just absolute fuckin fluff, mentions of death, months pre-outbreak, language, reader is insulted, slight angst, mentions of alcohol, slight age gap, reader has panic attack, public making out, jealous!reader, Joel loves his pet names, he talks you through it, oral f! receiving, p in v, praise, unprotected sex, y’all it’s a lot
You sip on your mug full of sugary coffee and rub your temple, tired from a night of little sleep. That’s when Sarah Miller, your favorite student, patient, and professional instigator, strides through your office doors with a big smile on her face.
You open up your snack drawer with an affectionate roll of your eyes, grab a pack of skittles, and throw it her way.
She catches it mid-air and sits down on the bed by your door, kicking her feet while she pops only the red ones into her mouth.
“You’re gonna get me in trouble one of these days, hun,” you breathe a laugh.
“Don’t worry,” she sighs, still grinning. “I’m on my lunch break and I finished it fast so I could come see you.”
You smile softly behind the rim of your mug, “Well, I’m glad to see you. What is it that you’re smiling so much about?”
“Awe,” she points to your mug. “You’re using the mug I got you.”
You look at the front of the mug, the words, “World’s Greatest Grandma”, on the front of if it with the word Grandma scratched out with a wash-proof marker and replaced with “Nurse”. She claimed she couldn’t find one that said what she wanted so she had to get creative. It makes you laugh every time you pick it up.
“It’s my most prized possession,” you nod, matching her expression. “Now answer my question.”
She leans forward, having finished off all the red skittles, and hands it back to you so you can eat the rest.
She says it in one, hyperactive breath, “I got my dad to volunteer at the school dance!”
You choke a bit on your coffee.
Setting down the bag of skittles and your mug, you look up at her and chuckling, “Why would you want to do that? Don’t most kids want their parents far away from their homecoming?”
She shakes her head like you’re not getting what she’s saying, exasperated, “I invited him for you, Nurse y/n.”
“I- Why would you-” you let out a nervous laugh before pulling yourself together. “Sarah. Why would you invite him for me, sweetheart?”
“Because you like him,” she props her head up against the wall behind her, a sly little smirk on her lips. She crosses her legs. “Obviously.”
You sip your coffee, a small scoff leaving you, “I don’t have a crush on your father, Ms. Miller. Since when do you play matchmaker, huh?”
“Since he asks about you like all the time,” she groans. “I told him that you’re coming and he basically dropped everything to come.”
Heat blooms in your face but you clear your throat and feign nonchalance despite it. It would be incredibly unprofessional for you to have a juvenile, little crush on a student’s father. Even if he is incredibly handsome, sweet, charming, funny, and a wonderful, single father to his little girl who you also have a soft spot for.
But you do and you’re convinced it’s a bit bigger than a little one. You don’t act on it though because you’ve kidded yourself into thinking it would go away, wither from neglect like a dying plant with no sun. However, that hasn’t worked out very well so far.
Sarah doesn’t miss the flush in cheeks and the small smile you dawn before maintaining your composure once again. She decides to hold onto this information instead of call you out because she’s nothing if not devious. She’s very observant for a 14 year old, you’re sure she gets it from her sharp father.
He doesn’t let anything get past him, like hair in your face that he pushes away for you, a fallen eyelash on your cheek, your shoelace undone, your ponytail getting loose and about to fall out, and whatever else. It’s been almost an entire school year of this, going on field trips, meetings, him picking Sarah up from school when she’s sick (whether she fakes it or not), and around your shared neighborhood because even if it was big in Austin, Texas, he made it feel so damn small.
And now Sarah says this and you can’t contain your excitement. But also your nerves were shot, you haven’t felt this way about someone in a long time. It scares the hell out of you.
“I’m not volunteering,” you laugh. “Why’d you lie to him?”
“Because I’m going to convince you to come,” she raises her eyebrows. “Please, please, please, please!” she clasps her hands together. “I’ll buy you all the skittles you want, I’ll take the red ones out of all of them for you, too!”
“What if I’m busy?”
“I know you’re not.”
You gasp, “Rude, Sarah! I should write you up for that,” you tease.
She smiles, “Come on, you can come and wear a pretty dress, drink punch, and eat free food. What’s not to like?”
“The bitchy moms and other teachers, for one thing-” you put a hand over your mouth. “I’m so sorry, Sarah. I shouldn’t have said that,” you chuckle, embarrassed, with your face in your hands.
She waves you off, “My father cusses like a sailor and I won’t tell. I don’t like anyone that works here besides you, anyway.”
“Well, now I feel like I have to,” you relent with a sigh, mulling it over. She was right in that you didn’t have anything to do, so what was the risk here?
She looks at you expectantly, mustering up puppy dog eyes to persuade you.
“If I go... no teasing me and your dad. He and I are just good friends,” you say, which is at least half true. “We enjoy each other’s company, nothing more.”
“Uh-huh,” she says in a sing-song, knowing voice, fingers crossed behind her back. “Sure, Nurse y/n. I promise.”
“I’m serious,” you point at her, taking the last sip of your coffee just as the class bell rings. “Now get out of here and go to math.”
She groans in protest but hops down from the table anyway and fakes being dizzy, “What if I have a fever?” She coughs.
“Then walk it off,” you chuckle, knowing she’s lying. “See you tonight, Sarah.”
She grins widely, waving, running out, “Bye! Dad and Nurse Y/n sitting in a tree-”
“Sarah!”
~~~
Walking into the schools’ gymnasium, you’re almost shaking with nerves when you walk in. You feel like a teenager again, anxious and waiting for someone to ask you to dance.
You slipped on a black slip dress with white trim at the ends and the sweetheart neckline, it hugs your body nicely and accentuates curves, dips, and makes your skin glow with a red sweater that hits at your waist and matches your red, strappy heels. Your hair is pulled back with barrettes to show off your makeup and fresh curls.
The dance has already started thirty minutes ago, so everyone’s already dancing and having fun to the child-friendly music that the DJ spins for the room. You pick up a red solo cup filled with crappy fruit punch and spot Sarah in the crowd with a few of her friends.
She waves enthusiastically in your direction before running over to you and hugging your side. “You look so pretty, Nurse Y/n!”
“Thank you, sweetheart. So do you!” you hug her back, trying the punch and wincing at the off-taste. “Tonight, you can just call me Y/n, if you want.”
She smiles, glowing at your arrival, “My dad’s over there talking to another parent. I’ll go tell him you’re here.”
You look up when she says this and meet his eyes from across the room, which means he was already looking. Joel Miller cracks a lopsided smile at you, excuses himself from his conversation with a pestering mom, and crosses the room to the two of you.
He’s wearing a red flannel shirt, rolled up on his burly forearms, tucked into a pair of dark jeans with a black belt holding the pants up. His hair is slightly wet from a shower, you presume, and he smells of aftershave and smoke and cedar wood. He looks so good, standing in front of you with those all-encompassing brown eyes, you think you might cry.
Those said eyes fall over you, and admire your dress, your hair, your everything. He looks down at his daughter, watching you both with avid attention.
“Don’t you have friends to get back to, chick?” he cocks an eyebrow down at his scheming daughter.
She rolls her eyes, smoothing out her blue dress. Her hair is braided into a bun at the back of her head, matching teal flowers pinned in her curls. “Okay, dad. Have fun!”
She races back to her group of friends and leaves you and Joel alone, two awkward adults who feel like kids again.
“You did her hair tonight?” you smile softly, gushing a bit now. “It looks so nice.”
He flushes and scratches the back of his neck, “Thank you. I tried my best, she did most of it. I just wanted tonight to be perfect for her. She forced me to come, though.”
“She got me, too,” you tilt your head, biting back a grin. “She should be a lawyer when she grows up, this kid.”
He looks out at her dancing with her friends and smiles fondly, “She would be great.” His eyes fall back down to you, “You look beautiful... by the way.”
You beam, “Thank you. You clean up pretty well yourself, too, Joel.”
A blush spreads across his nose and cheeks, “Thanks. I was worried it was too simple and that I should have worn a suit... I didn’t know if it was nice enough to-”
You place your hand on his arm to stop his rambling, “You look great. Seriously. Don’t worry, all the moms and teachers will still drool over you.”
He pinches his brow when he stares down at you. You get the sudden urge to smooth out the small wrinkle between his eyebrows, ease his tensions.
“Really?” he pins you down with his stare, but his dark eyes are glittering with amusement. “You’re way off base, sweetheart, I promise you. None of them think of me like that.”
You ignore the heat blooming in your chest at the nickname, he used it often but it never failed to make your brain short-circuit, “They all talk about you.”
He raises his eyebrows, “You’re joking.”
Jealousy swirls in your belly at the thought of these women and the things you’ve heard around school, but you pull it together with a quick tilt of your head, “I’m not laughing, am I?”
He notices your jaw clench a bit and how you gulped before speaking, logging the observations for later, “How do you notice?”
“How do you not!” you say, moving to his side and unintentionally brushing your arm against his. He shivers. “It’s obvious. It’s hard not to.”
His eyes linger on your lips before glancing back up your eyes, “Maybe I’ve been distracted.”
You grow flustered under his gaze and look ahead, stammering, “Yeah... maybe. And well... Sarah tells me that they ask her about your life in the pickup line after school. So it’s proving to be borderline obsession,” you laugh.
He smiles softly, seeing past your nerves, “Poor Sarah. She must love that,” he says dryly.
“Sarah might say some choice words about them,” you shrug your shoulders. “She’s fine, though. I probably shouldn’t have told you, we tend to share secrets,” you look at him, filled with care for his daughter, for him.
“She adores you,” he says sincerely and you can tell by the warmth in his tone that he means it and appreciates it. “You’ve quickly become one of her favorite people within a little over half a school year. Tommy thinks you’re great too, from the few interactions you’ve had when he picks her up sometimes.”
You grin and his chest seizes at the light that exudes from your sweet expression, “Tommy’s a wonderful uncle. Good brother too. He talks about you often.”
“Oh yeah?” he looks at you, his voice sends shivers straight through you. “And what does he say?”
“Can’t betray a friend’s trust,” you shake your head, teasing.
He discreetly shows you his flask of whiskey, “Not even if I let you drink from my emergency flask?”
“Maybe I’ll tell you one thing,” you hold up a finger and he slips you the flask, cracking a dazzling smile, while you turn around and take a long sip. The DJ transitions the E.D.M to a slow song, something sweet and best to sway to.
He takes a long sip himself and tucks it away in his pocket again, holding out his hand to you, “Do you want to tell me while we dance, darlin?”
You look around the room, your boss nowhere in sight. There was technically no rule against dating a student’s parent, but you didn’t want the judgement. You knew the people around here talked and there would be rumors, shaming. But he’s looking at you like you’re the only person in the room, putting himself out on a limb just to ask you to dance.
It didn’t have to mean anything anyway, it could just be two friends sharing a dance. You’ve danced with friends. It’s the same thing. Your internal monologue was racing a mile a minute.
“Are we allowed to? I mean, as chaperones.”
“We’re watching the students more closely.”
“Yeah, I just...” you pause, pinching your brow.
His face falls slightly. “If you don’t want to, we don’t have to,” he starts to pull his hand away. “It’s really no-”
You put your hand in his, “I’d love to dance with you, Joel.”
Warmth blooms in his handsome face and he pulls you into the crowd of dancing people. Joel pulls you gently towards him, placing his hands on your waist as you wrap your arms up and around his neck. You both try to keep your distance, make a good example for the kids, but it’s growing increasingly harder for him not to hold you close and kiss you right here in front of all these people.
You catch Sarah giggling excitedly at you both dancing, whispering with her friends. You roll your eyes with a small smile.
You look up at Joel, resisting the urge to lay your head against his chest, “You still want to know something Tommy said?”
“Desperately,” he laughs.
“He told me you said I’m pretty.”
Rosy color spreads across his nose, but his eyes are darkened, his lips part slightly, “I should’ve known he’d tell you.”
“So he’s telling the truth?”
His eyes soften, “Of course he is.”
“Well... thank you,” you flush, blood rushing to your face, making Joel smile. You feel like a schoolgirl again.
He chuckles, eyes searching your face, “You’re welcome.”
You tilt your head, “You’re pretty, too, Joel.”
He spins you as the song picks up a bit and pulls you back to him, your dress spinning as you do. He pulls you back against his chest, hands in against shirt and his around your waist. Warmth radiates from his broad chest, his hands are calloused even through the fabric of your slip dress, and your breath catches in your throat.
He doesn’t pay any mind to the stares he gets for doing it, but he lets his head drop to your shoulder, writing love letters in your skin when he lets out a breath. He says nothing about the compliment but he’s holding you closer, and that’s all he needs to do. A quiet understanding washes over the two of you in that moment.
Joel’s always been the strong and silent type, but the longer the two of you have known one another, the closer you get, he’s begun to let more things slip. He begins to ramble, his nerves making an appearance when he’s near you, a teenager again. Then there are times like now when his actions do all the talking for him and neither of you need to comment on it.
Then there are others when he won’t shut the fuck up.
“People are looking,” you whisper.
“Do you want me to stop?”
“...No.”
“Then why do you care what they think?”
There’s a beat of silence before you sigh out the three words, “I don’t know.”
“We’re not Patrick Swayze and Jennifer Grey over here, the kids will be fine,” he teases. Then he lifts his head to bring your joined hands up to his side, moving you to the changed song with the more upbeat tempo.
You snort, “Wouldn’t that be something.”
“If we were somewhere else...” he muses, looking at you to gauge your reaction.
You meet his eyes, your own crinkling with amusement, “You’d do the lift?”
He throws his head back with a thunderous laugh, “I’d try for you.”
“Think I’m too heavy?”
“God, no,” he spins the two of you, dodging a pair of kids dancing. “I’m just old.”
“You’re like 35, Joel.”
“You’re only 27, you don’t get it yet,” he whispers into the side of your hair and you laugh, not even bothering to glance in the direction of the judgmental moms and teachers.
Joel Miller had a talent of making you feel like the only person in the room.
The song ends and you feel out of breath just from being this close to him. You step away from him and smile softly, “I gotta run to the restroom. I’ll be back.”
His eyes sweep over you, then he nods, “Okay.”
“What?” you grin. “No dad joke about not falling in?”
“I’m classy Joel tonight,” he chuckles. “No bathroom jokes.”
You shake your head with a laugh as you walk back towards the restrooms. Stepping inside, you move to stand in front of the mirror and grab your lipstick from your bag, fixing up your makeup. You try to calm your nerves, hands shaking when you bring the golden tube to your lips.
After taking a deep breath, your mind begins to wander about how his hands felt on your skin and how he thinks you’re pretty. The thoughts fill your head and litter your skin with goosebumps.
You don’t usually like being the center of attention, but with Joel around you, it was hard not to be. And you couldn’t say you minded it.
A few other women walk through the door and you recognize them to be Bethany, Sarah’s rude math teacher, Cara, a mom who gives you trouble constantly, and Kristina, another mom who thinks Joel is hot and constantly asks Sarah questions about him.
“Hey, y/n!” Bethany draws out in a sing-song, forced way that sends a chill through your body. “Saw you out dancing with Mr. Miller. Ain’t y’all cute?”
You look at her blankly in your reflection and she clears her throat.
“Adorable,” Cara’s shark eyes roam you over in the mirror, making you feel small as you fix your foundation. You don’t let it show though, you weren’t going to give them the satisfaction.
“Such a shame about Joel’s wife,” Kristina hums, putting on her own bright pink lipstick. “Wonder if he’s still looking for a stepmom for sweet little Sarah.”
The three of them laugh together and you feel your blood pressure quickly rise. Three wild vultures circling a carcass, kicking it while it’s down.
“Can we not tonight, ladies?” you turn around to look at them. “Let’s just forget this and have fun.”
“What do you mean, dear? This is fun,” Bethany blinks her stark, blue eyes, red lips curling. “This must be a lot for her though, girls. She’s probably having a rough time considering what happened to her.”
You freeze.
“Oh yeah...” Cara finishes her makeup and frowns at you. “I remember hearing your fiancee passed away before you came here, how sad.”
Your blood runs cold, sirens going off in your head, and a pounding begins in your skull. No one’s brought up Rick since you’ve gotten here, you’ve dodged the questions from the nosy parents, the gossiping neighbors, and the rude coworkers. You don’t know how they figured it out, and now you feel it, being back in the car with Rick the night that it happened.
Joel and Sarah didn’t even know, you had pushed it to the back of your mind so you would never find it again. Now it’s coming back like a wave, full force, and pulling you under the current until you’re drowning.
“Then you moved here to Austin in July,” Kristina slits her eyes at you and cocks her head to the side. “Now you’re trying to get back out there with Joel, huh? Like you’d really have a chance with him.”
She looks in your direction and it’s as if she sees right through you, past your carefully created facade and into your core, that sad, broken girl with no family left and nowhere to go.
Your eyes fill with hot tears, you want to run away, but you can’t move. You’re frozen, feet glued to the linoleum tile.
“I knew Rick... your fiancee,” Bethany says. “He was so sweet. We went to college together.”
“So sweet,” Cara looks at you and flashes another sickly sweet smile.
You inhale sharply, tears falling down your face. You hastily wipe it away, “I... I gotta go.”
You grab your purse off the counter and rush out of the door, slamming into a hard chest and a pair of hands that fly to catch you by the waist.
Joel stares down at you, grounding you, and your eyes begin to brim with tears, “What’s wrong, sugar? What happened?”
The words tumble out of you, wiping away the tears that slip out while you ramble on, “Nothing, I just... the women in there, they’re horrible, they hate me, and they make me feel like shit. They brought up Rick and they think you’re hot and they think we’re dating and I just wanna go. I’m just gonna go home-”
He looks over your head at three women leaving the bathroom, waving in his direction.
Joel looks back down at you before tucking his fingers into the straps of your dress and pulling you into a searing kiss. Your inhale sharply when his soft lips meet yours, and your hands grip onto his flannel shirt, sighing into his mouth. He slips his hands up to the back of your neck, tilting your face up to kiss you more completely, unraveling you in his capable hands.
Bethany stares at you wide eyed, getting the other girls attention, all jaws dropped in utter shock at the image before them.
His tongue dances with yours as he moves his lips expertly, his thumb gently rubbing against your cheekbone as he coaxes your lips open. He hums small praises while tracing shapes into your skin. You let a small noise slip past you, unable to contain how good he’s making you feel, swallowing your sadness and helping you breathe again.
He groans as he forces himself to pull away from you, struggling not to kiss you again. Forgetting you’re not alone.
Joel’s hands slip down to rest on your shoulders, lips flushed and swollen from the kiss, voice gravelly, “I hate terrible people.”
You look at him, mouth parted, lipstick probably smudged. He licks his lips before glaring at back at the women before they scoff and walk away, muttering under their breath.
Neither of you get the time to speak of it before Sarah is running down the hallway, after hearing the commotion. You and Joel split apart when she comes up, and she’s smiling widely.
“Kelsey asked if I could sleepover, can I go get my stuff at the house and go to her place? Pretty please,” she begs her dad, clasping her hands together.
He tears his eyes away from you and nods, smiling, “Yeah, that’s fine. We’ll head home and I’ll walk you there.”
Sarah grins happily before looking up at you. “Everything okay, y/n?”
You force a smile and fix a flower falling out of her hair, “Yeah, I’m good. And I think I’m ready to go, too.”
“Do you need a ride?” Joel asks. “I know you walked here cause we all live so close, but I don’t want you walkin’ home in the dark. Also Sarah’s got control of the radio on the way back,” he offers you a grin. “She’s got good taste.”
“We’re listening to 80′s hits,” Sarah nods, taking her job very seriously.
You nod, feeling better just by being near the two of them. “Yeah, I’d like that.”
~~~
“Head Over Heels” by Tears For Fears is blaring through Joel’s truck and you’re humming under your breath while Sarah is screaming it in the backseat. Joel laughs at his daughter in the rearview mirror.
Grieving your boyfriend’s death has been something you’ve pushed aside for a long time. You knew these women could be catty, but you never thought they’d be downright cruel to you, bringing up Rick the way they did. Looking out the window, you think back to the moment you felt frozen in that bathroom, unable to speak or move. You feel embarrassed for not standing up for yourself, blaming yourself instead of them and their hateful words.
Joel notices your faraway expression and rests his hand on your thigh in a way so Sarah can’t see. He rubs his thumb over your bare skin and it both calms and excites you, heat rushing to the apex of your legs.
You let out a small sigh and lean back into the chair, resting your hand on top of his. He has to rip his eyes off of you, willing himself to ignore your pleased exhales if he was going to drive properly.
He pulls the car into the driveway one-handed and comes to a stop, turning around to talk to Sarah, “Go grab your stuff, chick, and we’ll go to Kelsey’s.”
She nods and hops out, running towards the house.
Joel turns to you, hand still on your leg, clearly nervous, “Do you want... do you want to come inside? I have wine and some clothes you can put on, if you want something more comfortable.”
You search his set features for confirmation, “You sure? I can just walk next door to my house, I don’t wanna put you out-”
“Y/n...” he stops you. “You should know by now that if I say something I mean it, I promise you.”
You didn’t know if it was a good idea being with him alone like this, but you honestly didn’t want to be by yourself right now.
You relent with a nod, “Alright. You had your chance to change your mind,” you flash a sneaky smile.
The two of you step out of the car and head into his house. Sarah’s already tumbling down the stairs, changed into pajamas with a packed bag slung over her shoulder, “Ready to go when you are.”
“Damn, you got ready fast, kid,” he laughs despite himself. “Let’s go.”
Sarah runs up and hugs your side, “Bye, y/n!”
“Have fun with Kelsey, be safe, okay?” you squeeze her shoulder.
Joel whispers to you as they walk to the door, “There’s shirts upstairs and some shorts you can borrow. Make yourself at home, okay?”
“Okay,” you smile softly.
They head out and leave you alone in the dimly lit house. You exhale slowly and head up the stairs to go to his room. You look around at the messy bedroom, one king size bed with blue covers, and minimal decorations. It felt like him, smelled like him, cedar and oak and smoke. You open one of his drawers to grab one of his big tee shirts from work, and a pair of baggy gym shorts.
You slip out of your dress, let down your hair, and set your red shawl down on top of it. You tug on the big tee shirt and pull on the gym shorts. As much as you had liked that dress, you feel like you can finally breathe now, much more comfortable in your sleepwear now. The clothes smelled of him, too, and it filled your chest with heat, a red glow pouring out of you.
You’re in Joel Millers room... wearing his clothes.
You can’t help but look around at the photos of Sarah and him in framed photos, some hung on the wall and others propped up on his drawers. There’s one photo that catches your eye in particular, though, the side of it folded in and tucked into the frame. It’s Joel smiling down at Sarah, just a baby in his arms, and there’s a part of the photograph hidden. But you spot a glimpse of a yellow dress in the corner, the rest of it hidden away.
You wonder if it’s Sarah’s mom. You don’t know much about her, just that Sarah says she never got to know her, and hardly remembers anything about her. It broke your heart hearing that, wishing she could have, but also selfishly wanting to be that person for her.
“Found what you needed?”
You jump at Joel’s sudden presence in the room and turn around to him. “Sorry, I wasn’t trying to snoop, I-”
He smirks and it feels like a lit match to your insides, “I know, darlin. Nothing to be sorry about.”
His eyes trail over you in his clothes, your arms folded under your chest, “You look good in my clothes, sweetheart. Better than I do, that’s for sure.”
You smile, “Thank you. And thanks for letting me borrow them. I feel better.”
He pinches his brow together, “Do you want to talk to me more about what happened? We don’t have to, but just know I’m here.”
You take a step towards him, “I know, I just haven’t talked about him in a long time.”
“Him?” his eyebrows raise.
You laugh at his shock, moving past him so he follows you downstairs, “Down, boy. I’m single, wouldn’t have let you kiss me if I wasn’t.”
He blushes. “Well, then, what about him?” he trails behind you to his kitchen. “If you don’t mind my asking.”
You love his Texan drawl and voice a bit too much, how deep and molasses like it was, how it coated you in sweetness and didn’t let up. Maybe it was because you weren’t from here and you weren’t used to it. But his was different and it affected you all the same.
“I might tell you,” you hop up on the countertop. “Over a glass of wine.”
Joel cracks a smile, happily obliging your request with one of his wine bottles, “I can do that.”
He pours you a glass of red and hands it to you, “So... who’s Rick?” He sips his own.
“My um... my ex fiancee,” you say, taking a long sip of your wine. “It feels weird calling him that...” you let out a dark laugh. “-since the two of us never ended it ourselves, it sounds wrong. But he uh-” your voice gets thick. “He died the beginning of last year.”
His face falls, genuinely on your behalf, wanting to wrap you in his arms, but also wanting to let you continue, “I’m so sorry, y/n.”
You’ve heard that more times than you can count from friends, family, and strangers alike, but from him, it’s one of the most sincere you’ve ever heard. You actually believe he truly cares and you wonder why you didn’t tell him sooner, maybe worried you’d scare him off. You wanted a fresh start in a place where no one knew Rick, where no one knew what happened.
“Thank you,” you sniff, mustering up a small, grateful smile before you continue. “It was New Year’s Eve. I didn’t know he had been drinking... he really seemed fine,” you recount like it was just yesterday that it happened.
“He didn’t see the ice on the roads,” you take another long sip, hands shaking again. You clear your throat, “I tried to help him, I thought we would be fine. But there was a bridge... and we went off. He got me out,” you blink the tears away, breathing out the words as if expelling them from your person. Like you wouldn’t have to hold onto them anymore. “He didn’t.”
“I’m alive because of him,” you inhale sharply, finally looking at Joel. “And he’s dead because I didn’t notice...”
He frowns, “It is absolutely not your fault, y/n. It’s a horrible thing that happened and it is not because of you.”
You wipe your eyes with the back of your hand and it breaks Joel’s heart a bit more and more, “I haven’t thought about it in so long. And they brought him up in the bathroom. I don’t know how they found out, I haven’t told a soul here.”
Protectiveness slips into his deep tone of voice as he steps towards you, it sends a shock through you, “What did they say about him?”
You shake your head, letting out a laugh, “It’s not important.”
“It is absolutely fucking important,” his eyes darken when he speaks to you, you’d never seen him so worked up before. “I’ll go to the damn superintendent if I have to, they’re grown ass adults. They shouldn’t use the death of your fiancee against you.”
You can’t help but let a smile slip through, “It’s cute how mad you are about this.”
He scoffs, mirroring your amused expression, “Believe me, I’ve dealt with the wolves before. They ask you inappropriate questions and dig into your personal life, pushing your boundaries like it’s nothing. No one can have any secrets around here.”
“Yeah,” you sniff. “I noticed that.”
There’s a beat of silence before he sighs and says quietly between the two of you, “When they found out about Sarah’s mom leaving her when she was a baby, they brought it up to her at a school picnic. Made her feel small. She ran home, crying her eyes out. I’d never seen her so upset. I was scared what I would do. It broke me.”
You nod in understanding, “That’s awful, Joel. I’m sorry. For you and for Sarah.”
“The next time they brought it up, Sarah asked Bethany why she’d been divorced six times. You should have seen the look on her face,” he laughs and you join him, throwing your head back at the mental image of Bethany’s pinched, angry face.
“Oh my god, I love Sarah so much,” you let your head fall into your hands, still laughing loudly in the otherwise silent kitchen.
“I was very proud,” he grinned.
“I’d hope so,” you tilt your head slightly. “She gets it from you. I wonder how she got that information about Bethany.”
“Beats me,” he smirks and you narrow your eyes affectionately in his direction. “Smart kid, that one.”
The two of you let the moment sink in for a bit in the silence. Joel’s standing between your legs now, hands on either side of your thigh, steadying himself. He searches your face like he did at the start of the evening, fingers itching to touch you again.
“Should we...” you finally say, pulling you both back into reality. “Should we talk about the kiss back there?”
“What’s there to talk about about?”
You frown, filling with a sense of dread that you’ve misread this entire night, “What do you mean?”
He jumps to fix what he said, hands falling to splay out on your thighs, “No, baby, wait not like that-” he sighs. “Shit, I’m sorry, I’m out of practice with this, sweetheart-”
You press a kiss to his lips, causing him to abruptly cease his rambling. You tilt your head and pull away from hm after just a couple seconds. He leans against you even after you’re away from him, lips trying to follow you.
“I just meant...” you whisper with a small smile, looking up at him through your lashes. “Like what does this mean? Because I haven’t done something like this since Rick and I’m trying not to feel guilty...”
“Guilty bout what?”
“For moving on.”
“You shouldn’t feel guilty for that,” he shakes his head, lowering his voice. “I understand if you’re not ready though. It took me awhile, to open again, I still haven’t completely... But I can’t imagine how difficult it must be for you. And I know I’ve never met Rick, but I believe he’d want you to be happy. With whoever, even if it’s not me.”
Your heart cracks open at the sweetness of his words, splitting you in two right in front of him. You know you shouldn’t feel bad, even if you’ve moved on from loving Rick, a part of you will always mourn and have a place in your heart for him. You needed to realize there was more than enough room to let other people in too.
Your eyes soften, “You’re more out of practice than I thought if you think I’ve moved on with anyone else but you, Joel Miller.”
His eyes darken with something like raw desire and complete adoration, something like love that you haven’t seen in a long, long time. You don’t know if he’s been looking at you like this all along and if you’ve just now begun to notice.
Joel leans down to whisper to you, hand on your neck, thumb tucked under chin and other fingers on the side of your throat, squeezing just so. You dreamed of this, thought if he would be rough or sweet, when he was really a stunning, swirling mix of both.
“You were so jealous earlier,” his voice is wrecked in your ear, low and gravelly. “I thought I was just imagining it at first, but talking about those moms that think of me, you got so red. It was so sexy, sweetheart.”
You gasp a little, wanting to deny it, tease him. But who were you both kidding? You were jealous, and now there’s a warm satisfaction in the center of your chest at the fact they were wrong. Singing insults, saying he wouldn’t want you. Now you’re in his kitchen in the middle of the night wearing his shirt and he’s in between your legs, pressing against you.
“They said I didn’t have a chance with you,” you tangle you hands in his shirt, tugging him closer.
He shakes his head, eyes never leaving you, “I’m only yours, baby. Always have been.”
You all but pounce on him in that moment, wrapping your arms around his neck and tugging him close. He laughs just before you softly press your lips against his, the rumbling, beautiful sound vibrating against you. You’re tugging at each other almost immediately, his hands pulling and sliding up and down your waist while your arms wrap around his head. You fingers slide through his brunette curls, pleasantly humming at the satisfaction of knowing his hair is just as soft as you imagined, how even his rough hands feel gentle, and how his lips move with yours, slowly, languidly, painfully.
“You’re beautiful...” he kisses the words into your neck, repeating it over and over. “My beautiful, beautiful, girl.”
“Joel...” you sigh out and tilt your head back.
“Puts your arms around my neck, baby,” he whispers, arms pulling your legs up so they wrap around his torso. “What I want to do to you won’t work exactly on my kitchen counter.”
You quickly oblige him and he carries you up his stairs, your hands and lips never leaving each others. He stumbles while holding you, making you giggle into his shoulder, shrieking when he almost drops you.
“Was this the kind of lifting you had in mind with me tonight?” you smile softly into his skin.
He kicks open his bedroom door, “I’ve always had this in my mind, sweetheart.”
You both drop onto the bed, wanting to take this slow but also get to what you’ve both been wanting as soon as possible. He’s atop you, hands on either side of your head while you kiss like college students, handsy and messy and surprisingly amazing. How fast you two fit together, how good it feels. He grinds his lower half into yours. You moan into his mouth, earning one from him, both enjoying and exploring the other.
“I wanna taste you, sugar,” he lifts your chin up with his fingers, kissing down your chin then your neck then your collarbone and chest.
You wordlessly slip off your, his, shirt revealing that you have nothing on beneath it. He inhales sharply, taken aback by you. Your fingers scramble for the buttons of his flannel and you honestly think you break a few, moving so quickly.
“Impatient, are we?”
You look up at him through your lashes, “Just know what I want.”
Joel shrugs off his shirt, undoes his belt, and pulls off his jeans. You barely have time to admire his toned body, broad shoulders before he descends. He tugs off your, his, shorts, tosses them, and kisses everywhere his fingers leave, wet, open mouthed whispers against hot skin that make moisture pool between your thighs. His lips trail from your belly to your inner thighs and back up again.
“Nothing underneath?” he kisses the soft flesh, noting the slick at the apex of your legs. “This all for me, darlin?”
You nod when he licks a stripe up your cunt, “Only you, Joel.”
He buries his face in you, eating you out like a man starved, rutting against the bed like he’s enjoying it as much as you are. You all but scream at the way he’s unraveling you with his tongue, circling your clit, accompanying his skilled mouth with his equally capable fingers, bigger than yours
When you tug at the ends of his hair, he groans into you, the noises fueling the coil in your gut, begging it to splinter and snap. He sucks hard and you let out a loud moan at the feeling. He holds you down against the bed with a palm flat against your stomach as you begin to lift your pelvis. Joel’s tongue enters you while his fingers take over, stimulating you with gentle rubs and flicks.
Your orgasm washes over you, the pressure relieving through every nerve and vessel, his name a prayer leaving you over and over. Wishing for him to come fix you again.
You pull him up to you and bring him down to press your lips against his. He melts into you, arms wrapped around you while he holds you close, filling you out in all the right places while you taste yourself in his kiss.
“Can I...?” you ask him, hands slipping down to palm him through his boxers.
He groans, head falling into the crook that meets between your neck and shoulder, “As much as I would enjoy that, baby... we’re gonna need to do that later. Need to be inside you.”
You look at him for a moment, just breathing him in as cheesy as it sounds. It’s only hit you now how much you’ve been longing for this.
“You have all of me,” you tell him, moonlight sculpting his handsome features.
“You don’t know how long I’ve been waiting for you to say that, y/n...” your name is blanketed by his voice, delivered to you in the way Zeus gives the world lightning. Simple bursts of electricity that can tear the earth.
You hold his stubbled jaw in your hands, rubbing his cheek with your thumbs. He doesn’t remember a time anyone has ever looked at him like you do, gently, adoringly, openly.
Joel puts his lips near your ear, kissing your temple, “Are you ready for me, sweetheart?”
You nod as he pushes himself inside you and you bite back a moan into his shoulder.
Your hair is in messy tendrils in every which way and you’ve never been more breathtaking to him. The color of your eyes brighter, skin flushed with warmth, and lips puffy. His eyes scan over your face, committing your soft and sharp features alike to memory. Lust blown and glowing with dewy sweat.
“Eyes on me, beautiful,” he holds your jaw in his hand, kissing you again.
He quickens his pace and you whine into his mouth, nails digging into his skin. You wrap your legs around his torso and he hits you so nicely. He rises and looks at you, lips swollen and red from kissing, eyes clear and pupils large, and face flushed with heat.
“You’re doing so good for me,” he praises in your ear, littering kisses across your jaw. “Wanted you for so long...” he find your lips again with his own.
You mewl into his lips, licking his tongue as he pushes inside you again and again and again.
This past year of stolen glances and touches seem so pointless when it could have been this, this beautiful mess of limbs and lips and tongue. You never knew euphoria until this moment.
Joel’s hips begin to stutter and you’re both already close to release. You lick up his throat and kiss a constellation across his jaw, feeling him gulp under your touch.
“Keep kissing me like that, sugar, and I’m done for.”
You can’t help yourself, overwhelmed with feeling as the two of you reach your climax together. Blissful and stupid. His lips wander down your neck and nipping that sweet spot, as you arch into him.
You whimper and his movements slow as do yours, walls tightening around him. He reaches down and rubs your clit with his expert fingers.
You finish together, mouths open and hands all over each other’s bodies. It overcomes you in a tingling, perfect sensation, continuing on in euphoric waves, leaving you aching and wanting more. He kisses you through it and it aches, all of the love you have pouring into him and him into you.
As you both lay there, chests heaving slips parted, he smiles down at you.
“Will you go out… with me?” Joel says sweetly, kissing your temples. “That usually comes first but we- I…”
You interrupt his nervous ramblings with a soft kiss, “The answer is always yes.”
You interrupt his nervous ramblings with a press of your lips quietly, “Yes. The answer is always yes.”
Joel rubs his knuckles over your cheek, softly and adoringly he looks at you. You tuck yourself into his arms under the blankets. Your chests heaving, out of breath but happy. Everything you both have wanted for a long, long time, laying right in front of each other.
“Can I...” he searches your face, face red and nervous you’ll say no even when you’re in his arms. “Can I take you out tomorrow? I usually do that before this, but we just... I-”
You interrupt with a kiss, his new favorite thing, whispering, “Yes, Joel. The answer is always yes.”
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NOW PLAYING: ✩ ˛˚ . 𝓓𝓐𝓓𝓓𝓨’𝓢 𝓖𝓘𝓡𝓛 feat. GOJO SATORU!
ஜ ˖ ࣪࿐ྂ wc: 4.8k! your step dad knows that at the end of the day you’ll always be a daddy’s girl.. you just don’t realise it yourself!
warnings! f!reader, stepcest, noncon!somno (kissing & touching) -> eventual consent (it happens more than once, you wake up during one of them & it escalates to more), stepdad!gojo, age gap, you refer to him as ‘daddy’, this is my submission for @killsaki’s family ties collab, fank u so much starry for letting me join & write this! ♡ ˖ ࣪࿐ྂ note! it’s been a while since i’ve written step daddy!gojo but pls head the warnings! ૮꒰ྀི⊃⸝ ⸝ ⸝⊂꒱ྀིა
it’s late, you think aimlessly as you find yourself blinking drowsily at the crappy slasher you’ve wound up watching on the couch in the living room. you’re tired, but you can’t sleep and the more you think about it the more restless you feel as you try to burrow yourself deeper into the plush blanket that’s wrapped around you, comfortable but you still feel cold as you wait—beg for sleep to take you.
another drowned out screen rattles you as it pours into the room and you find yourself pouting before deciding to flick through your phone instead. it’s like you’re caught in a haze as you swipe through your feed, offering the tv a quick glance every so often but you’re not paying enough attention to your surroundings to hear the careful steps behind you.
there’s another scream followed by another sigh from you before you jolt when long arms fall across your shoulders, followed by a smooth voice that steals your entire attention with how much it seems to soothe you.
“oh? you’re up late.” your stepdad gojo drawls as his looming figure drapes over the back of the couch behind you, his chin resting on the top of your head as his crystalline gaze squints at the tv screen before you nudge him off with a huff.
“what the hell, satoru!” you grumble as you turn around to shoot him a frown from over your shoulder, but that only seems to make him meet you with a smirk before he’s rounding the couch to see you clearer. “but yeah, i just cant sleep.”
“you scared?” he’s teasing you, you can tell by the way gojo’s smile twitches wider, sending you a narrowed sort of look beneath the snowy peaks of his hair as he tilts his head at you. but you hate how good he was at it, making you cross your arms as you try to focus back on the movie you were now suddenly so interested in again.
“you’re so annoying.” it’s a half-hearted rebuke, you’re far too tired to think up something witty and you know even if you did, he’d say something even more infuriating.
gojo was always like that with you, he seems to take pleasure in getting to you, prodding you for a reaction and it’s annoying how good he is at doing it. maybe that’s just how he was, the role of father to someone else’s child seemed to come a lot easier to him than it might to others, but you always put that down to the megumi he always spoke about, so that was never an issue. although you’ve never been able to shake the feeling that your stepdad likes teasing you a little more than he does everyone else.
“hm, you need protectin’? ‘ts my job remember.” his honeyed tone brings your tired gaze from your thoughts and back to him before he knocks his hand against your thigh, ushering you along the couch before his lanky body is falling into the spot right next to you.
“i can take care of myself.” you huff as you look away from him again and you hear gojo hum like he’s thinking it over before he breathes out a laugh, letting his palm push under the blankets to smooth across your thigh like some sort of faux attempt to soothe you. the touch lingers longer than you’d like but you swallow it down, he’s always been a little touchy.
“oh? but a sweet thing like you is always first to go.” you hate the way the compliment mixed with the back and forth motion of his hand on your skin feels like it burns you. it’s like something ignites in your skin despite how cold you felt a moment ago and it’s sinful the way your instincts seem to push you closer to him as you seek out more.
your stepdad gojo always ran warm so you’ll blame it on that rather than the heat that’s buzzing along your shoulders and thighs with every swipe of his hand, his fingers squeezing comfortingly at the skin as you make yourself comfortable in his side. despite the teasing, you were always close so the proximity isn’t something that was completely new, although this feeling is.
“nah, it’s always the annoying, handsome ones.” you’re blissfully unaware of your adorable little reply until you hear the snowy haired man next to you chuckle before he’s pulling your legs over his, sending you a look that makes you cast him a sidewards glance before you’re avoiding it all together.
“is that right?” gojo goads, deliberately as he pinches at your thigh a little too hard but just enough to have you kicking your legs before he’s wrapping one of his long arms around your shoulder again, this time to curl you closer into him as his lips rest against your temple. he can feel you grumbling, probably a little embarrassed you just called your stepdad handsome but he’s sure the things going on in his mind right now are a whole lot worse.
“shutup, you’re missing the movie.” but you’re just too adorable for him to ignore.
but your stepdad thinks you’re so pretty when an hour or two later you’re finally asleep — your cheek pressed against his shoulder when his ministrations on your skin mixed with his comforting body heat has finally lulled you.
gojo finds himself wanting to rest there a little longer as he stretches out his neck meanwhile probably the fourth sequel to that shitty movie plays. but he lets his muscles pop before he’s pulling you closer and sighing when he finds his eyes dropping to the press of your chest against his own, broader one. it’s sinful, he knows he shouldn’t deliberately put himself this close to you, not when he’s well aware of your little crush on him — one that he welcomes, maybe due to his own growing affection that stemmed way past that of a father figure at this point.
although despite his own selfish desires to keep you pressed against him all night, he knows you’ll complain tomorrow about the uncomfortable sleeping position and as much as he’d like to use the opportunity to insist that he’s the comfiest, he knows he should let you sleep.
“gotta get you to bed, angel. yeah?” so gojo tries to push himself up from the couch as he whispers to you, carefully as to not rouse you from your sleep but it proves unsuccessful when your brows fall into a frown. your arm round his waist to squeeze yourself closer as your pretty, sleepy feathers tilt perfectly up at him and it’s almost like you’re teasing him as he falls back against the cushions behind him, your lips parted and pouty — like you’re begging for him.
your mom did always complain about how much he spoils you.
he shouldn’t, but it wasn’t uncommon for dads to kiss their daughters goodnight and who is he to skip out on the necessities of his role. so gojo let’s his gaze drop to your lips before his fingers are tracing along the shape of your jawline, holding you there before he’s leaning into kiss you once on the lips as a goodnight and then again because he wants to, because he can.
the kiss is short and sweet but you whimper as he pulls away, pushing yourself closer like you’re asking for more and it’s like his self control seems to snap, string by string at the sight of you so pliant against him. suddenly the man who was considered to be the strongest is nothing but weak at the sight of his own step daughter.
“gotta stop teasing me like this, sweet girl. g’nna make me do something you’ll hate me for.” but gojo leans in again anyway, deliberately this time as his lips end up back on yours for a kiss that’s just as warm although it seems harder. you’re pulled in close and despite the way something in his chest tells him to stop, he won’t—he can’t. he lets his mouth press you open, moving you so easily but still gentle enough not to wake you as he parts your lips, grunting when his tongue finally pushes up against yours and his hands fall to your body once more.
he lets his tongue graze along your own, tasting you deeply until there’s a twitch in his hips and a throb in his cock when his palm falls to your chest, taking a slow handful of your tits before he’s swiping his thumb across the shape of your nipple and growing hungrier when it pulls a whimper from you.
gojo knows he’s too far gone now, but you’re still asleep — his own little step daughter putting all of your trust in your step dad like he isn’t kissing your pliant body right now, squeezing and palming at your breasts in his palms before he’s throwing caution to the wind and trailing under the hem of your shirt instead. your skin feels like silk beneath his hands and the first, real press of your chest is heavenly as he licks into your mouth, wishing he could feel you kissing him back as he pinches and rolls your nipple between his thumb and forefinger.
he gives himself a few moments before he pulls away, before he gets carried away and lets his hand fall back to your hips. but it’s like instinct the way it explores the topography of your body — finding the heat of your intimate skin almost too quickly as his lips trail hungrily down your neck. 
gojo can feel the sweet press of your pussy through the little shorts you’d opted to wear, he can imagine how it would feel when his tongue would graze through your slick folds but he knows he’d still rather have the real thing, instead he’s left with an infinite void that only seems to make his cravings worse. he rolls your sensitive skin between his teeth before he rubs at your clothed clit with two fingers and the sound it pulls from you is oh so fucking sweet.
“oh, daddy knows what y’need.” you’re so fucking sensitive, he wants nothing more than to hear you cry for your daddy — breathing out sweet little uh-huhs and pleas as he pushes into you but he won’t wake you, not yet. so he’ll keep his movements gentle, light despite the way he can feel you growing warmer, stickier under the press of his thumb when his voice is pressed to your skin and your thighs twitch with every intoxicating flick of his wrist.
you’re close and he’s warm, breathing deep as gojo pushes himself deeper into you — igniting the spit soaked nerves along your skin as he suckles another mark into your neck but just as he goes to toy with the waistband of your shorts, he stops. he swallows deep, harshly as he catches his breath — like he’s just snapped out of a daze before he’s giving you another sweet kiss on the cheek and a look that lasts a little too long before he speaks.
“time for bed, sweet thing.”
but you’ll wake up alone, warm and sticky like you just woke up from a lewd dream with the pulse of a hickey on your throat — tucked up in your bedroom like you didn’t fall asleep on the couch as you mutter out a “daddy?” and you’ll stay unknowing. for now. until he says so.
you’ll have that pretty little dazed, confused look on your face when your soft footsteps make their way to the kitchen and gojo, your stepdad, will be there to meet you like he always is when your mom is on another business trip as he leans over the counter — his head propped up against his fist as he sends you a teasing expression.
“why’re you looking at me like that?”
“hey now, no good morning? you break my heart.” you smile a bit at his words, blame it on your body still waking up but he seems to like that as he pushes himself up from the counter, giving you a little relief from him bothering you as your stepdad opts to putting a cup for you right next to his own on the counter.
“mom will kill you for using so much sugar in your coffee, didn’t she tell you to stop that.”
your words make gojo’s usual smirk stretch along his features as he takes a few languid steps towards you, sending you a half-lidded look over the frames of his glasses before he’s chuckling. “come on now, don’t be like that. i think we’re allowed our own little secrets.” he quips back quickly, letting his palm pat along your shoulders and you think it’s strange the way your skin seems to twitch and tingle at the swift, seemingly innocent touch despite the way you feel it turn your stomach.
but despite the uneasy feeling that you’re not sure you like at all, aswell as the increasing damp spot in your panties most mornings and the uncomfortable heat that only seems to grow and burst in your stomach every time you see him. you still seek him out when you’re tired and he welcomes you with open arms as you curl into him on the couch, it’s only natural to take more when he’s so eager to give, right?
this was torture for your stepdad too after all, gojo wants nothing more than for you to blink up at him as he breaks you open — he wants to feel the stretch of your walls and taste of your slick pussy on his tongue but he’s held himself back. you should be grateful that he’s only settled for playing with you through your clothes when you sleep on his chest, quenching his thirst for you with a few messy, sloppy goodnight kisses.
but you’re feeling particularly restless tonight despite the way you normally slept so well against your stepdads chest — finding your sleep anything but deep as you slip in and out of consciousness uncharacteristically. it always seems to find you again quickly, normally due to the soothing graze of your snowy-haired pillows fingers along the length of your spine or the smooth hum of his voice.
though when you wake next, the last thing you want to do is sleep when you realise your thighs are spread and your step dads lips are on your neck, his hand pushed down the front of your shorts to rub sticky circles into your clit through your panties.
“daddy?” your voice is weak, wound up tight with the way gojo’s pressing the pads of his fingers into you and keeping you in place, but he freezes when he realises you’re awake — readying himself to pull away despite the way your body is begging him to stay. he grunts and his hand works to leave you but you reach for him and pull him back before you tangle your other hand in his hair. “daddy~”
your back feels sticky where it presses against his chest and despite how disgusting it should feel, you’ve never felt warmer as you spread your thighs wider and you lose every sense of right and wrong with his touch. you hook them over his own as his hips press tight against yours from behind, the angle letting you feel the heavy press of his cock against your lower back as he chuckles breathlessly into the crook of your neck.
“oh? well good mornin’ sweet thing. didn’t know you were so greedy f’ me.” gojo’s lips curl when you shudder into him and he takes your new found consciousness as an invitation for him to push through the final layer of your soaked panties, finally allowing himself to pet through your folds as he eases past the thin fabric.
“what—ah! what’re you doing?” it’s filthy, the break in your voice when he groans at the slick he collects under his touch — trailing it up the press of your pussy to circle your clit as you murmur out another sweet cry for your daddy. so sweet, that only makes him press down on the sensitive bud harder, keeping you tight against him as he rubs at you with two fingers and smears a gentle kiss behind your ear.
“don’t try and pretend you weren’t teasing me, ‘ts mean to lie to your daddy.” your body does little to defend you when every swipe of gojo’s fingers has your hips twisting under his touch. “hm, think i’m spoilin’ you too much, ‘s that it?” his movements slow with his words and he thinks it’s adorable the way you hiccup and beg for him to keep going, grinding into the press of his palm as you babble about how you like when he spoils you.
that’s what everyone says, your mom would always tell him to stop babying you but fuck if only she could see you now.
but he hums, with that same teasing demeanour he always has before his movements come to a halt and the look you send him over your shoulder makes his cock twitch as pretty tears gather at your lashes. gojo sucks his lower lip between his teeth, then he leans into give you another affectionate, soothing kiss on the cheek before his fingers are sinking into your pussy.
“mmm, do i treat you well, sweet thing? you’re such a daddy’s girl, ain’t ya?” you feel him smirk against your cheek as he curls his long fingers inside the squeeze of your walls, letting his palm rub against your slick pussy everytime he sinks them deeper into you until you’re shaking filthily in his lap. he quickly finds a pace that makes your toes curl from where they’re hanging over his thighs, your body rocking in time with him as you ride his fingers and you know he fucking loves that when he rewards you with another hickey suckled into your throat.
“yes, yes, y-yes! ‘m daddy’s girl— satoru, please,” you can barely think never mind speak with how perfectly gojo’s pressing into the sweet spots inside of you, your words coming out a jumble of moans and whines. it’s like he’s mapped out your nerves before hand despite the way this has been the first real feel of you. but his fingers are so long that it’s almost too much with how well he seems to pet at your walls, so good that you could spend forever right here.
“oh, then i’m all you need, yeah? your one ‘nd only?” gojo’s words are possessive when they’re buried into the next hickey he sucks into your skin, his tongue hot as it lavs over the raised mark but it only seems to ignite the flames that lick at your spine as your legs shake. your thighs close around his wrist but he only fights to pry you back open so he can watch the way you cream around your stepdads fingers, laughing so fucking infuriatingly when he keeps going until you’re twitching and making his smug smirk stretch even wider.
“so good fo’ me, wish you could see how pretty y’ look like this, princess.” you’re breathing in short, quick pants as the buzz from your orgasm makes you dizzy. but despite that, you still seem to move so easily when you feel your daddy pat at your trembling thighs, urging you to push yourself off his lap and onto the cushion at his side before he’s turning to look at you once more.
“gonna look even better on daddy’s cock though, yeah?” gojo lets his large hands smooth their way up your thighs before he pushes himself up to his knees — easing down the waistband of his sweats to take out his heavy cock as you nod shyly, still reeling from your orgasm as your eyelashes flutter prettily.
you should feel gross with the way you almost drool at the sight of your stepdads cock, someone who’s meant to parent you not fuck you, but you think that shameful part of you already died when you creamed around his fingers. now, you’re only left with the longing to have him sink up into you, warm and long. so he leans down to kiss you greedily, pressing you into the cushions beneath you as your thighs spread for the push of his hips and wrap around him.
“hmmm, so greedy. my pretty baby.” gojo mumbles as he yanks your shirt up to pool around your breasts and the sight makes his cock twitch as he pulls back to give you a pretty look, brushing his hand through the snowy peaks of his hair so you can take in his hypnotising gaze that make you shudder underneath it like you would on a white winter. he presses the blunt tip against the entrance to your pussy and he gives you another teasing grin when he pauses for a few moments, waiting until your lips part to whine at him before they curl around a moan when he sinks into you instead.
but he knows he’s really fucked with the first saccharine squeeze of your walls around him as he breaks you open, watching the way your puffy folds spread for him because he knows he’ll never be able to stop. now he’s had a taste of the pretty little pussy that’s always parading around his home, he wants to keep you all to himself — ruining you for anyone who isn’t your daddy. you won’t need anyone else when he’s here.
“daddy! ‘s too much..” you gasp and it draws gojo in so he can kiss you again, rocking gently into the hug of your pussy until he finally bottoms out with a drawn out, long groan as his hips press flush and tight against your own. but because your step dad has always been careful, caring he gives you time to adjust to the stretch as his mouth twists softly into yours — bathing you in sweet kisses that make you relax before your hands are in his hair and you’re smearing your slick along his pelvis as you whimper for more, please! ‘ts s-so big..
“oh, but y’re so hungry for me.” his words are emphasised by the slow sway of his hips, pressing the length of him along the sweet spots inside of you that he reaches so easily as he pulls away to suck on his lower lip. “see?” he grits again as he presses down onto your stomach and it’s insane the way he suddenly feels deeper — the sharp cut of his stare so intense on the way you take him that you wouldn’t be surprised if he could see through you.
“look at me, angel,” gojo’s lips part ever so softly as his eyes search for yours again “wanna see you when y’re on the end of daddy’s cock,” and he wants to pinch your cheeks when you give him a starry-eyed look.
“wanted this pussy for so long, knew it was fuckin’ made just for me.” his words are hissed from between his teeth as he starts a pace that’s not particularly fast, but it’s heavy enough to have you jolting beneath him as his hands grab at your hips to keep you in place. his words are true after all, he can’t even count the amount of times his sweet little step daughter had him hard — too warm under his clothes despite the way he always seemed to look away before you caught him.
maybe if he’d met your gaze, coaxed you into him and let you catch the way he’d drink you up he’d have had you like this sooner. but gojo thought you to be so untouchable, but now your pussy is squeezing tight around his cock and he’s mouthing at your throat like he’s dreamed and that thought seems to fade away.
but your mind is a mess with how well he’s fucking you — losing yourself in the feeling of your daddy, in the feeling of finally having him close to you as you wrap your arms around his shoulders and try to meet every wet connection of his hips with needy little grinds of your own. the blunt head of his cock feels like it slides along all of your sweet spots perfectly and you’re not sure if it’s still the lingering aftermath of your orgasm that has you so close already, or the realisation that the man over you is someone who should be anything but.
the reality is gojo’s deliberately dragging the pleasure out of you, rocking his body seamlessly with your own because he’s determined to have you craving him like he will you. he’s grinding his pelvis along your putty clit with every thrust and he doesn’t think he’s ever tasted anything sweeter than the sound of his name on your lips when he’s kissing you once more.
“daddy~ ‘m so close!” you gasp dreamily and your pussy squelches as warmth bursts and tingles across your thighs — the sweet lull your voice seems to have taken making the man over you’s pace stutter as he forces more of his cock into your slick walls.
“oh yeah? can tell, squeezin’ real tight already.” gojo grunts as he pushes his body closer to your own, rutting you into the cushions below you like a wild fucking animal despite the way he feels completely at your mercy. he’s past caring, past holding back when the heavens and the earth have dropped a perfect little thing like you right in his lap like he’s the honoured one.
“you want daddy’s cum, sweet thing?” his hands almost curl into your hips and he swear his lungs quake on his next thrust as the needy coax of your walls tremble around him. he needs you to want him, to beg for him before he crumbles under the weight of his own desire. you offer him another moan, followed by a mantra of sweet little yes daddy’s and uh huhs that only make him greedier, but it’s not enough.
“hm? can’t hear you, gotta be nice ‘nd loud f’ me.”
but despite the way you know your mind should be signalling, ringing for you to stop. you can’t, your lips part and you feel like your body is going to crumble with every one of gojo’s crushing thrusts. “yes, yes! p-please, want your cum, daddy!” you gasp despite the way you shouldn’t but you feel him pet at your cheek so softly that you can’t help the way your body betrays you.
“then don’t hold back on me,” your step dad grunts and you don’t, your pussy throbs around him and he grits his teeth as your cream around his cock. his hips press into yours, snug and tight with the first milking compression that has his huge stature curling over you as he sinks his teeth into the crook of your neck. but he doesn’t stop, he coaxes and fucks you through your orgasm until you’re like putty beneath him, thighs trembling to pull him closer and he hopes the fucking walls remember how pretty you sound when you cry his name.
“only f’ me, sweet girl. yeah?” he asks again and you struggle to stutter out anything coherent with how good you feel, the slight sting of overstimulation making you feel warm as gojo’s breathing becomes laboured and he finally spills hot and thick inside of you. but it’s filthy, when the back and forth stutter of his hips only seeks to push it deeper inside of you, a gooey ring of liquid forming around the base of his cock everytime he draws his hips back before they sink into you with another louder squelch.
he finally stills a few moments later as you whimper at the slight throb between your thighs, pushing gently at his chest to ease him off of you as he gives you a handsome, pink cheeked sort of smirk that you can’t deny makes you feel warm, loved.
“you could’ve atleast woken me up!” you hiss, playfully as you swat at your stepdads chest but he’s quick to take your hand in his before he’s intertwining them, leaning in to press a few kisses along your cheeks until you’re giggling and the infuriating smirk seems to return to his features far too quickly despite the way his softening cock still rests inside of you.
“oh yeah? but you were already so wet you must’ve been dreamin’ of me, sweet girl.”
© 2023 GAROUJO. please do not copy any of my layouts or writing and translate or repost onto any other sites.
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