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ievutebebe · 4 months ago

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Soap

“What’s the point in washin’ ya if you’re just gonna make a mess of yourself?” Joel taunts, finding your cunt slick with arousal. “Tsk. Can’t send ya to class like that, huh? Y’gonna let your daddy take care of it?”

WARNINGS - one shot, smut, dubcon, dad!joel, incest - if game of thrones could do it, so can i so fuck off about it. girthy age gap but reader is an adult. daddy kink (tho idk if it counts when he’s your father, but whatever) fingering, little bit of a handjob, inappropriate use of a shower head, unprotected piv, cream pie. uncle tommy mention 😈 This is icky. You have been warned. Reminder that fiction is not real life.

A/N - OKAY GAMERS. Fuckin'...thank you guys??? for being so stoked about this little haphazardly put together drabble about dad!joel?? blown away. so flattered. so touched. I'm really fucking excited to write more of this shiny new kink for all of us perverts, and i plan to turn that drabble that started this whole thing into a whole ass fic. just had to get this out of my system because you all know how much i love shower/bath sex lol. and thank you so much to this anon!! i loved your ideas so much and i had fun incorporating them into this fic. @tofics, you know what you did. thank you for the beta hunny ♡

It’s 6am when Joel wakes up to that awful, high pitched beep of his alarm. Eyes closed, he slams it with the heel of his palm, and exhales sharply through his nose. At least it’s Thursday, he thinks. More than halfway through the week.

He groans softly as he rubs the sleep out of his eyes, and his sheets are warm against his body. He inhales deeply as he stretches, and smells the warm, nutty aroma of the coffee maker brewing a pot downstairs that coaxes him up with the promise of caffeine. Joel stands up then, and his skin is covered in goosebumps from the cool morning air nipping at his skin. His graying, dark, curly hair sticks up in six different directions, a mess he’ll take care of later.

He walks first to the bathroom, and turns on the shower to warm up. Then to your bedroom, where he quietly opens your door. Joel chuckles seeing you asleep on your stomach, ass hanging out of your sleep shorts with a sliver of morning light pouring over your body. You’re clutching your pillow tightly, drooling onto the mattress as you snore gently.

Joel crouches down and pushes some hair out of your face. “G’morning, sunshine,” he murmurs against your scalp, in between pressing kisses to the top of your head. “S’time to wake up.”

“Mmm…no,” you mumble groggily.

“Mmm…yes,” Joel drags the word out, mimicking your sleepy, whiny tone.

You scrunch your nose, but otherwise don’t move a muscle. “Just give me - just five more minutes, please, Dad. Go have your coffee or whatever.”

“Cute,” Joel says. “Up an’ at ‘em, lazy ass. Y’got school today.” You groan loudly, and your dramatics make Joel chuckle. “Oh, I know, kiddo.”

You open one eye to glare at him, vision blurred by your sleepiness. “You do not. You have no idea how awful 8 AM classes are,” you argue, swatting away Joel’s hand as he digs his fingers into your sides and your neck, tickling you. “And my professor is such a - st - stop,” you giggle breathlessly.

“Yeah? Your professor’s such a what, now?” Joel continues teasing until you’re wide awake and fighting him away, your protests turning into laughter. “Tell me, baby girl. Use your words.”

“D-Dad, I’m getting up, okay?” you huff. And you do, in fact, sit up. Joel’s tickle method of waking you up always pisses you off, but at least it jolts your system wide awake. Works like a charm.

“I really hate you sometimes, Dad.”

“Uh huh. Love you too, kiddo.” Joel takes your hand as you sit up, pulling you off of your bed. Your hair’s a mess and there’s a pillow crease on your face, and you’re still the most beautiful thing he’s ever seen. “Get your ass in the shower, alright?” He tells you, “Should be nice and warm.”

You take off for the bathroom, and the bright, warm lights stab at your tired eyes. You move slowly as you peel off your pajamas, tossing them haphazardly into a hamper that’s too full. You’ll have to get that in the washer before your dad notices.

You tug the shower curtain and test the water on your wrist, then twist the knob of the shower until the water runs just under boiling. You step into the tub, then let the hot water run through your hair and down your body, and it makes your skin burn and tingle in the best way. Steam rises around you and clouds your vision a little, makes the air you breathe thick and tingle your sinuses.

The door opens and in comes Joel, flipping on the switch that turns on the bathroom fan. “Dad!” you yelp, covering yourself with the curtain.

“Oh relax, would ya?” Joel says, pushing his boxers down his legs. He steps out of them, then joins you in the tub. “I’ve seen it all before, sweetheart.”

“What are you doing here?” you ask, turning away from him.

Joel reaches over you for his toothbrush and toothpaste, then squeezes a little bit onto the bristles before wetting the toothbrush under the stream. “We’re conservin’ water,” he answers. “‘Cause the water bill was too fuckin’ high last month, thanks to you. You’re bleedin’ me dry, kid.” Joel begins brushing his teeth, lathering the toothpaste in his mouth. It drips down his chin and chest, landing in his mess of graying pubic hair. His cock is half hard already.

“I’ll shower quickly,” you insist. “Just–”

“Just nothin’. I can’t trust ya, baby. We’re outta here in fifteen minutes,” he says, voice muffled by the toothpaste. “Not a minute longer.”

“Twenty,” you bargain. “There is no way I can shower in fifteen minutes.”

Joel eyes you as he finishes brushing his teeth, then leans over you and spits out the toothpaste into the drain. “I’ll give ya seventeen, princess. Final offer.”

You roll your eyes, and hum a quiet okay. You reach behind yourself to point the showerhead back down at you, then turn up the heat a little more. “Nuh-uh,” Joel says, turning the heat down to about halfway between cold and hot, an excruciatingly lukewarm temperature. “Quit tryin’ to boil yourself alive, baby.”

“I’m not trying to boil myself. I’m–” you reach for the knob to warm up the shower again, but Joel swats your hand away and gives you a warning look. “Seriously? It’s fucking freezing, Dad.”

“It’s fine,” he says, then reaches for your toothbrush. “And watch your mouth.” He squeezes a bit of toothpaste onto the toothbrush, then watches you brush your teeth. You make a silly smile at him, toothpaste dripping out from between your teeth. “Oh, nice. Charming, sweetheart,” he says sarcastically. “Y’got your daddy’s smile, you know.”

“I know.”

After spitting your toothpaste out and rinsing your mouth, you stand under the water, shivering a little. You rest your head against the tile wall, letting your eyes close as the rushing water lulls you into a groggy haze.

“Hey,” Joel says, startling you a little. “Don’t jus’ stand there, kid. Wash up. Y’got twelve minutes left.”

“But I’m so cold,” you whine.

“Well c’mere then, drama. Quit your cryin’ an’ hug on Daddy if you’re so damn cold.” Joel drags you by the wrist to him, pulling you in close for a hug. You melt against him, savoring his warmth and the scent of his skin. It’s so masculine, so comforting, and you close your eyes. Joel kisses the top of your head, then rests his chin there. He can’t believe how tall you are now. How womanly you are. All he did was blink, Jesus Christ.

He remembers bath nights with you in this very tub. The Crayola bath crayons, all the other silly toys you loved. He can almost smell the Johnson’s baby soap and the tear-free Suave green apple scented shampoo.

Still holding you close with one arm, Joel reaches for the bar of soap, decorated by his beard trimmings from two days ago. With his free hand, he lathers the bar, and then washes you with both of his hands, his palms sliding all up and down the smooth skin of your back. He washes your ass cheeks too, and between your cheeks. “I can do that myself,” you mumble, face heating up.

“Mhm. Back up a little,” he murmurs, putting a little distance between you and him. He cleans underneath your armpits, then massages down your arms with his big, strong, soapy hands. Torso is next, and his palms slip and slide over your soap-covered tits, thumbs circling your nipples. He works his way down, and washes you between your thighs. Your breath hitches at feeling his fingers slipping through your folds, dragging over your clit.

“Daddy,” you moan.

He circles the sensitive part of you a little, loving the way your knees buckle and how you wrap your arms around his shoulders for stability. “Easy, baby,” he tells you, “I gotcha.”

He’s always got you. Always there to catch you before you fall, or to pick you up and kiss your bruises when you do. It’s what being a dad’s all about, right? Looking out for his baby girl.

“Yeah,” you nod, burying your head into his neck as he rubs your clit. His cock is hardening further, the head throbbing against your thigh. “Please, Dad.”

Joel nods silently, and pushes two fingers into you. He groans at the way you squeeze and clench around him, how your cunt pulses when he strokes at his favorite spot inside of you. You whine when he pulls his fingers from you, but he quiets your complaints with a soft kiss, tongue melding with yours as he reaches for the showerhead with one hand, the other wrapped around your waist so he can squeeze at the soft flesh of your ass.

Joel warms up the temperature of the water, then turns the shower head onto its jet stream mode. He wriggles the shower head between your bodies and directs the stream to your clit.

“T-too hot,” you say urgently. “That’s too hot.”

“Huh. Thought you were jus’ tellin’ me you wanted a hot shower,” he taunts, smirking against you. “You’ll get used to it, baby.”

Joel takes one of your hands and guides it lower, then wraps your fingers around his length. You pump him slowly as he keeps the shower head at your cunt, drawing the steady stream up and down your seam. He moves his wrist in gentle circles, using that motion to simulate how he’d rub your clit with his fingertips. You moan against his wet skin, squeezing his shaft when he finds your sensitive spot.

Joel pulls the shower head away from your cunt when he thinks you’re about to cum, and by the sound of your whines, he knows he was right. Of course he’s right. He knows his daughter like the back of his hand.

“Daaaad,” you moan.

He pays you no mind as he twists the shower head back into place above you. He backs you against the wall and hooks one of your legs over his hip, notching the head of his cock at your entrance. He thrusts into you in one go, causing you to gasp and throw your head back onto the tile.

“Woah, easy, kiddo. Be careful. Let me see,” he groans, drawing out of you. He kisses the part of your head you hit, or at least as close to that place as he can, then holds his hand against the wall to keep you from hitting yourself again. Before thrusting back into you, he looks down at his dick, and the creamy rings of your arousal are quickly rinsed away by the running water. He pushes back into you.

“Oh my god, Dad,” you moan, feeling Joel bury himself into you, all the way to the hilt. It’s an impossibly full feeling, impossibly tight. It’s comforting and sickening, all at one time.

“Oh, fuck,” Joel grunts, pulling out of you again. “Your daddy fits so nice in ya. Like you were made for it,” he winks, a twisted smile playing at his lips. Like he made you for it.

Joel sets the pace then, fucking in and out of you deeply. The tip of his cock kisses against your cervix as you writhe in pleasure, held so securely by him. He bites and sucks gently at the flesh he knows no one else will see but him, marking you as his. His daughter. His girl.

He watches you closely, admiring those pretty eyes he gave to you. Beads of water roll down his handsomely wrinkled skin, down the perfect slope of his nose. You clench down on him as he fucks you, eyes rolling back into your skull.

Joel moans and presses his forehead against yours, fucking you in a hard, devastating rhythm. Pleasure washes through his body, and his cock is hard as it’s ever been. You squeeze him so deliciously nicely, and moan Dad so fucking pretty.

Once again, Joel reaches for the shower head, and guides it toward your cunt as he fucks himself in and out of you. “Cum for Daddy, now,” he whispers. “Gonna be late to class.”

With a little more thrusting - that intentional, practiced rolling of his hips Joel knows you love, you’re cumming. Making those cute little noises he loves so, squeezing at his bicep and shoulder as you stiffen and shudder. Joel watches closely as pleasure washes through you, guiding you through your release with his steady fucking.

Only once he’s milked you of your release does Joel chase his own orgasm. He fucks you harder, quicker, and selfishly, with little regard for your comfort. He feels it in his balls first, that intense warmth and tingle. It rolls through his body, crawls up his spine as he kisses you, drinking in your moans of overstimulation. Once he’s filled you up, Joel eases you down and pulls out of you. The shower’s gone cold - so much for saving water.

Joel shuts the water off and gets out of the shower first, patting himself dry before wrapping that old, scratchy towel around his hips, belly spilling over the edge. Joel tosses your towel to you and catches the face you’re making, like you know something he doesn’t.

“What,” he deadpans, combing his hair out. The strands at the bottom of his skull curl up and drip a bit of water still. “What’s the look for?”

“Nothing, Dad.”

“Tell me.”

“It’s just…that was a long shower. I don’t know why you get mad at me for my long showers when–”

Joel cuts you off, “Because you ain’t the one payin’ the water bill, are ya?” Joel says. ‘An’ as long as you’re under my roof, you’re under my rules. Thought we were clear on that,” he says, his voice low and warning. You drop the argument. You leave the bathroom to pick out some clothes, then get dressed and head down to the kitchen.

And so much for Joel not wanting to send you to class a mess - you’re dripping his cum as you take your seat in the passenger side of his truck, feeling the wet, sticky warmth as you lean over to the side to start the vehicle. While waiting for Joel, you draw a little star in the condensation on the glass. He says he hates when you do that, but he loves catching glimpses of your doodles on his way home from work, when the sun hits the glass just right.

Joel gets in the driver’s side, hair slicked back and smelling strongly of Old Spice deodorant. He lifts up a bit, then pulls out his wallet, and rifles through it for a couple of bills. “Eat breakfast at school,” he tells you, handing you the money. “An’ I want the change back.”

You sigh. “I know, Dad.”

“An’ I’m gonna be busy with somethin’ today, so Uncle Tommy’s gonna pick ya up. Be good for him, alright? Maybe he’ll even take ya out for ice cream or somethin’.”

More Dad!Joel

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