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sweetheartsnips · 2 months ago

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Daddy Cool - Chapter 4: Joseph Joestar

NSFW WARNING - MINORS DNI

Summary: Joseph is your Daddy and spoils you with more than one present after a long day at work. Joseph is divorced here because infidelity/cheating leaves a bad taste in my mouth (I am a sap). ALSO this is pre Stardust Crusaders but he has his Stand here anyway because this is fanfic and I said so.

Tags: Old Joseph, sugar daddy relationship, daddy kink (surprise surprise), Hermit Purple as bondage, fingering, kitchen sex, creampie.

Words: 3.5k

Read on ao3 here!

A/N: I have been awfully sick the last few days and this has fic has consumed me. Hope you like it as much as I like soft dom Joseph. Happy reading, all readers <3

For other chapters in this series please see my JoJo masterlist

Joseph liked to buy you things. Small indulgences to welcome you home when you’d had a long day at work. Not that you needed to work, especially as hard as you did. He could comfortably provide for the both of you. But, stubbornly, you insisted. He admired that about you. You were so damn good at what you did, it was kind of kick-ass, really. He watched you handle everything thrown your way, balancing responsibilities with an almost effortless grace. Sometimes, it felt like you carried everything on your back, and you never once let it show.

Your brain was so busy with the big things, strategising, making things happen. You were just excellent like that. But sometimes, in all of that excellence, it forgot about the little things. And that is where he came in.

To rub your shoulders, smooth your hair. To cook your meals with love and care. To change your oil, to fold washing just right, to remind you when your toothbrush was at the end of its life.

You needed him to fit the sheet, secure your pantyhose, to kiss you sweet when sorrow shows. To charge your vibe, buy lace so fine, and fuck you stupid when stress plagued your mind.

His gifts to you started off as bouquets of flowers: elegant periwinkle hydrangeas and bunches of pretty pink peonies. Anything to make your face light up, to remind you to pause, just for a second, and enjoy something purely for yourself. And God, that made him so happy. Especially after everything that went down with Suzi Q, after all the ways he'd failed before with this kind of thing. Your gorgeous smile made him feel like he could actually do something right.

Flowers would not be enough for today. Not for you.

He wanted to spoil you.

You’d just earned a promotion–one that had come with more responsibility, more weight pressing down on your already overburdened shoulders. But he was so damn proud of you. You deserved more than petals that would wilt in a week.

So, in a jewellery shop he often sought out when he felt like giving you a little luxury, he found exactly what he was after.

Three rows of Vivienne Westwood pearls.

They were simple, elegant, timeless—just like you. They’d sit perfectly against your collarbones, an understated luxury. But it wasn’t just about the pearls. It was about what they meant. About what you meant to him.

He had them wrapped up carefully, tucked away in a small velvet box, waiting for you. And tonight, when you walked through that door, when you finally let the weight of the day slip from your shoulders, he’d be there. The way he always was.

︵‿︵‿୨♡୧‿︵‿︵

The door swung shut behind you with a quiet click. Sore feet, tense shoulders, exhaustion in your bones.

And then you saw him.

Standing there in the soft glow of the evening, sleeves rolled halfway up thick forearms, top buttons undone just enough to reveal a glimpse of the broad expanse of his chest. The dusting of salt-and-pepper hair peeking through the neckline, the firm planes of muscle beneath his collarbones. It was like your Joseph belonged in some old Hollywood film, all charm and rough-edged handsomeness.

Dangerous. That’s what he was. Far more than he ought to be.

He pushed himself off of the counter casually, giving you a sly wink. “Hello, little fox.” His voice was thick and rich, like warm caramel melting over your skin. “I missed you, love.”

The tiredness in your body unravelled just a touch when he stepped forward, dragging you into his arms. His lips brushed against yours in a kiss so soft, so tender, it almost could have been forgotten. Almost. His beard tickled your chin as he pulled away.

You looked up at him, an eyebrow raised playfully. “You bought me something again, didn’t you?”

His grin widened, eyes twinkling with mischief. “Am I that obvious?”

You returned his smile. “You get this look, all excited, like you physically can’t keep a secret.”

“You caught me.” His hands found your waist, firm but careful, guiding you toward the couch. “And before you say anything, just let me do this, alright? Just this once.”

A lie. You both knew it. There would be a hundred, no, a thousand more times after this.

You sighed, but there was no real fight in it. He saw the way the corner of your lips twitched before you finally relented, sinking into the cushions. “What did you get me?”

From his pocket, he pulled out a small velvet box, flicking it open with a quiet snap.

The air caught in your throat.

The rows of pearls gleamed in the dim light—shiny, crisp white ivory. They shimmered like something out of a dream, and for a moment, you could do nothing but stare, fingertips hovering over them like you weren’t sure if you were allowed to touch.

“Jesus, Mary, and… Joseph,” you breathed. “This is—”

He interrupted, before you could protest. “All for you.” His lips pressed against your temple, the warmth of his breath sending a shiver down your spine. “Good job with your promotion, sweetheart. I am so proud of you.”

The praise tickled your chest. You swallowed, still a little speechless, nodding slightly before he murmured, “Close your eyes.”

You obeyed.

His fingers ghosted over your shoulders, gathering your hair and sweeping it to the side, over your shoulder. He lingered at the nape of your neck, fingertips tracing a slow, deliberate path down your vertebrae, before he pressed a small, affectionate kiss there.

Big fingers clicked the clasp into place, and then you felt it.

The cool weight of the pearls settling against your collarbones, smooth beads resting against your skin. You exhaled slowly, fingertips brushing over them, still stunned.

His hands lingered at your shoulders for a moment before sliding down the outsides of your arms before settling on your sides. Then he lifted you. A quiet gasp slipped from your lips as he scooped you up with effortless strength. Up and around, spinning you so you were facing him and your legs had nowhere to go but around his hips. Suddenly your pussy was far too close to the otherwise inconspicuous bulge in his pants he was trying to keep secret. But it was unlike Joseph to do well at keeping secrets.

He tilted your face up with his spare hand, locking his lips with yours, stealing your words, as he swiftly navigated the two of you across the room. This time, he kissed deeper, slower—like he wanted to take his time with you. His hand cupped the back of your neck, fingers slipping beneath your hair as he angled your face just right, deepening the kiss.

You let out a soft moan into his mouth as the back of your thighs were met with the kitchen countertop. The marble was cool beneath your skin, a stark contrast to the heat of his body that was now pressed flush against you, including between your legs.

Your hands moved instinctively, gripping at the collar of his half-unbuttoned shirt, fingertips brushing against the coarse hair on his chest, trying to pull him impossibly closer. He made a low, approving sound in the back of his throat, before his hands started to wander.

Over your ribs, down your sides, over your hips–mapping out the shape of you.

Then lower.

Palms running down over the outside of your thighs, toying with your garter, before going higher, higher.

The first brush of his fingers against your inner thigh sent a shiver up your spine, your breath catching in between kisses. You barely had time to process before he was slipping beneath your skirt, his touch teasing yet intent. Your body tensed, anticipation curling hot in your stomach.

And then– oh.

The first stroke of his knuckles against the damp fabric of your panties made your knees twitch, a helpless reaction to the sudden pleasure. He grinned, playful and knowing, his lips brushing against the corner of your mouth.

“So sensitive,” he murmured, like it delighted him.

“I-I…” Your breath stuttered when he did it again, pads of his fingers exploring, hooking into the hem and pulling them aside.

Then, without warning, he sunk his two middle fingers inside you. They were met with far less resistance than you would have liked. Your fingers dug into his chest. You were already whimpering.

Wet. Too wet. Embarrassingly so.

A sinful squelching sound filled the space between you as he languidly pumped his fingers in and out of your wet cunt. The sound was obscene in the quiet of the room. Your face burned.

Joseph stilled, as if savouring the realisation, and then his lips curled into a smirk. “That excited, huh?”

You shot him a mock scolding look, though your breathlessness ruined the effect. “Shut up…”

“Oh, I don’t think you want that.”

Before you could argue, he curled his fingers just right—up and against that spot that made your thighs tremble and your eyes clamp shut. The noise that tore from your throat wasn’t a moan, not quite, but something smaller, breathier. He caught it with his mouth, kissing you deep as he worked you open, patient but relentless.

He pulled away to speak to you. “Look at me when I touch you, baby.”

That’s not fair, he was just kissing you!

Your eyelids fluttered, but you forced them open, meeting his gaze. The heat in his eyes was enough to make your stomach flip. He was completely absorbed in the way your eyes were glazed over, how your jaw was half slack, the way your body responded to him.

“That’s it,” he praised, voice rich with satisfaction. “What a good girl.”

A whimper slipped from your lips, and his free hand came up, cradling your jaw as he kissed beneath your eye, slowly, softly. Like he had all the time in the world to savour you.

But you didn’t.

“I want you to fuck me,” you whispered, voice shaky, barely above a breath. “So bad…”

Joseph stilled for just a second, amused surprise flickering across his face. His fingers flexed inside you, dragging insistently along your soft front wall, over and over. “Oh, really?” he mused. “What a foul mouth you have, darling.”

You gasped, burying your face in his shoulder, frustration now burning at the edges of your pleasure. “C’mon…”

That earned you a small smirk. His fingers slowed, moving just enough to keep you wanting, but not enough to push you over the edge, and he knew it. “Mind your manners, love.”

Heat burned up your spine, stinging your cheeks, but you were never one to shy away when embarrassed. “Please, Daddy.”

A low groan rumbled in his chest, a sound of pure satisfaction. His fingers sped up again, stroking and thrusting inside you perfectly, making you mewl. But it wasn’t what you really wanted.

“....Daddy?”

He leaned in, brushing his nose against yours, his breath warm against your skin. As always, he didn’t want to make you beg. “You just need me to take care of you, don’t you, sweetheart?” A kiss to your cheek, barely there, just enough to leave you chasing after it. “Yeah?”

Your lips parted, breath uneven, a small, blissed-out smile tugging at the corners of your mouth. “Yeah.”

His hand cradled your cheek, thumb stroking over your flushed skin with slow, deliberate care. His expression was fond, warm, but plagued with hunger.

“There’s my good girl.” His eyes dropped to your lips, then lower, down to where he was pulling his fingers out of your pussy. “Why don’t you take out my cock?”

Suddenly painfully aware of his absence inside you, you obeyed without hesitation, fingers making quick work of his belt and fly. Your eyes widened slightly as you freed him from the confines of his pants. He was so hard, the heavy weight of him throbbing hot against your palm. You gave an experimental squeeze, feeling the way his breath caught, how his jaw tightened as he bit down on his lower lip.

God, he was so big. You could hardly close your fist around the base.

Joseph’s hands found your hips, fingers digging into the soft flesh as he adjusted you, dragging you closer to the edge of the counter, slipping your panties off in the process. Your legs wrapped around him on instinct, ankles locking behind the steely muscles of his lower back.

The first push of him inside your warmth was dizzying.

Each inch stretched you open, slow and steady, filling you in a way that left your mind blank and your breath caught somewhere between a moan and a whimper. Your hands fisted in the fabric of his shirt, desperate for something to hold onto as pleasure snaked up your spine, the weight of your day melting away instantly.

“You like being full of me, baby?” His voice was a low, wrecked murmur against your ear. “Stuffed so full of my cock that all you can think about is Daddy?”

A needy, broken sound tore from your throat. “Mmmnnn! Yesyes….” you were whining sounds, not even words.

His hand cupped the back of your neck, tilting your head up, forcing your eyes to his. “Use your words, baby.”

You swallowed hard, forcing your voice to work through the fog of lust in your mind. “I love it, Daddy.”

His hands tightened ever so slightly against the flesh of your sides, a perfect pairing to the thick, pulsing heat stretching out your depths. “‘Atta girl.” Then, with a sharp inhale through his teeth, he finally started to move.

The first drag of him pulling out, then sliding back into you, it was enough to have your head rocking back, eyes fluttering shut. He groaned low in his throat, a chesty sound, his grip on you steadfast as he found his rhythm—deep, deliberate. His cock reached all the sensitive spots inside you, every texture of him rubbing so perfectly against your walls, it was like you were made for each other. The familiar melody of flesh meeting flesh filled the kitchen, the wet sounds of your bodies working together, the breathy little whines spilling from your lips.

His forehead dropped against yours, as he spoke between husky breaths. “I’ve been thinking about you all day…about how your tight, needy pussy squeezes me…”

A shiver ran through you, desire tingling in your tummy. “Yeah?” you managed, voice barely above a strained whisper. “Even in the jewellery store?”

His pace stuttered for just a second before he let out a cheeky, naughty little laugh. “Especially in the jewellery store, sweetheart.” His teeth grazed your lower lip. “Am I bad for that?”

Your lips curled into a dazed, playful smile. “Absolutely rotten.”

He pulled back just enough to give you a mock pout, hips rolling into yours with a sharp, hard thrust that sent a jolt through your body and made your moans stutter. “You still love me though, don’t you?”

Your head bobbed in a frantic nod, unable to do anything but pant through the pleasure.

His smirk threatened to melt around the edges into an affectionate smile. “You little vixen…” His hands cradled you tighter, like he wanted to press into you, until his cockhead was kissing your cervix. Then, with a voice hoarse with affection, he whispered, “God, I love you.”

“Love you too…” you murmured breathily, giving him a loving smile.

Your thighs tightened around his waist, locking him in place, refusing to let him go. It felt like your ankles were tied together—bound tight by more than just your sex dazed stupor.

Joseph smirked against your mouth, his breath hot and uneven. “Oh, sweetheart, you’re not letting me go, huh?”

You barely noticed it at first, too lost in the overwhelming sensation of him fucking you silly. But then, the faintest flutter of something humming with quiet energy against your skin. You gasped as a cool, invisible force cinched tight around your ankles, keeping them locked together at the small of his back. Your head tilted back against the overhead kitchen cabinets, your eyes widening in surprise.

He was using his Hermit Purple. You couldn’t see it, but he was such a tease–he used it like this when he was feeling cheeky sometimes.

“Cheating,” you accused in a broken huff, nails digging into his shoulders.

“Call it what you want, baby,” he purred, snapping his hips up into you with a pistoning pace. “But I’d say it’s just me making sure you take every last drop.”

A strangled, pleading sound escaped your lips.

His hands slid down your body, one bracing against the small of your back, the other slipping between your thighs. He found that sensitive, swollen little bundle of nerves, rubbing slow, steady circles over it, dragging you closer and closer to your orgasm. The knot in your stomach curled tight, so tight, like an overstretched rubber band ready to snap.

His lips found yours again, desperate now, open-mouthed and hungry, like he was trying to eat up your pleasure. He swallowed every sound you made, every shaky little whimper, breathing them in as if he needed them like he needed air.

And God, Joseph was such a vocal lover.

His groans filled your ears, deep and guttural, muffled only by the messy press of his lips to yours. He whispered praises, utter filth, voice breaking with every slick, perfect drag of his cock inside you.

“You feel so good, baby girl.”

“God, I could stay buried in you forever.”

“Such a tight little pussy—taking me so well.”

Each word, each dirty little admission, sent another shudder through your body, tightening the vice grip you had around him.

Then his hips stuttered, the steady, purposeful rhythm now falling apart into sloppy, needy slaps of his balls against your skin. His breath froze, his whole body tensing. “Shit—”

His groan was deep, drawn out, as he pushed all the way inside, hips flush against yours, his tip pressing up just perfectly against the entrance to your womb. Pumps of delicious liquid warmth spread deep inside you, filling you, making you gasp at the sheer heat of it. His spend flooded your walls, his cock twitching and pulsing with every spurt of his cum.

The fullness was so warm. The feeling was so good.

Joseph didn’t stop moving his hand, didn’t stop rubbing your clit, working you through it, coaxing you right into your own release. The pressure inside you shattered like glass, pleasure rocketing through your body, sparking every nerve in your body alight until your skin seared with hot, overwhelming bliss. Your face buried itself between his pectorals, muffling the sinful sounds of your broken moans and cries. Your nails dragged down his back, your thighs trembling around his waist as you drowned in your climax, his body against you a steady anchor in your reverie of lust.

He purred, feeling your walls flutter and pulse around him, milking every last drop from him as he nuzzles his face into your hair.

“That’s it, baby,” he murmured, voice warm and breathless. “You’re so beautiful like this. A mess, all because of your Daddy."

You couldn’t help but smile at the praise. Your chest heaved, the both of you clinging to each other. Your ankles were still locked behind him, held firm by his power that remained unseen to you.

He let out a breathless laugh against your hair. "So… is this it for me? Am I trapped here forever? Because I gotta say, there are worse ways to go."

You let out a tired little giggle, running your fingers through the short hair at the nape of his neck, slightly damp with exertion. “Maybe.”

He scoffed dramatically, shifting his hips just enough to make you squirm. “You insatiable little fox. You’re gonna drain me dry, aren’t you? I’m going to be all shrivelled up, and it’s all your fault.”

You hummed noncommittally, a teasing little smirk playing at your lips.

Joseph groaned, all mock suffering. “Fine, but if I die from exhaustion, you have to give my eulogy. You better make it good. Or else. ” His Stand tightened around your ankles, earning a little squeak from you.

You grinned. "Oh, of course. I'll tell everyone you perished honourably. A soldier’s death.”

“Damn right I did.” He grinned, finally releasing your ankles out of Hermit Purple’s hold. "Now, let’s get you cleaned up so you don’t have to write my obituary sweaty and gross."

“I am not gross! You love me like this.” You protested indignantly, giving his chest a playful shove as he reluctantly let you slip out of his grasp.

Your mind, once frazzled with the stress of your day, now lay in a warm, blissful haze. Something so much better had taken its place. Him.

#jojo's bizarre adventure #jojo no kimyou na bouken #jjba x reader #jjba x reader smut #jojo smut #dilf joseph joestar #old joseph joestar #joseph joestar x reader #joseph joestar part 3 #why is this old ahhh man so fine #please save me #i want him to speak like this to me so bad #i hope he is shooting blanks #probably is at his ripe ass age #oh well hes like a fine wine ig #jojo x reader

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