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strang3lov3 · 11 months

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Self-Indulgent Tendencies

dbf!joel x fem reader

Summary: while on your night walks, you decide to sneak into your dad’s best friend’s pool. When you’re finally caught you’re faced with two options: Joel can call the cops on you or teach you a lesson himself.

Warnings: pervy!Joel, slightly creepy joel, manipulative joel, kinda dark joel, slight dubcon but it’s not crazy, public nudity, semi public sex, rough sex, blowjobs, masturbation, attempted orgasm denial, reader calls joel daddy (couldn’t help myself), unprotected piv, voyeurism, oral f and m receiving, substantial age gap (reader is 20s and joel is 40s, honestly picture whatever age gap you want. I think the girthier the sexier LOL) I was feeling filthy sorry

Word Count: 4.1k

A/N: this poisoned my mind and I had to write it. Please enjoy <3 I would like to dedicate this story to @toxicanonymity who inspires me to be myself and have fun when writing this absolute filth ❤️

@speckledemerald deserves some credit with creating this story. Thank you for brainstorming with me and proofreading and your words of encouragement love!!! 😘❤️😘❤️😘

Texas in July. You did not miss it one bit, yet here you were, walking in the smoldering heat wave, beads of sweat dripping down your body. It was the kind of heat that weighed heavily in the air and suffocated your lungs with each and every breath.

After graduation in May, you moved back home, settling on a cute little townhouse not far from where your parents lived.

As you walk, you wave hi to the Adlers, then to Joel, who’s mowing his lawn. Oh yeah, he’s in this neighborhood too.

Joel, your dad’s best friend since…long before you were around. Joel, with his dark curls, his patchy beard and thick mustache, his sparkly dark eyes, his syrupy-sweet smile. He looks sinfully handsome mowing his lawn in his denim cutoffs and white tank top, his sun kissed skin shimmering in sweat.

He smiles back with a wave, and you walk right past, continuing your walk. It’s late in the evening, the sun is beginning to disappear. This is the best time to get your exercise, you’ve decided. It’s when the air is coolest, but still, not quite cool enough.

You loop around the neighborhood a couple times more and before you know it, you’re back at Joel’s house. You see the waves of his pool out of the corner of your eye, the moonlight dancing on the dark water.

How refreshing it would be to swim right now, you think to yourself. Joel’s pool is big, so clean, and refreshing. You’ve spent many barbecues in his pool, long summer days filled with chicken fights, swimming contests, seeing how long you could hold your breath under the water.

Fuck it.

You tiptoe to his pool, climb up the steps of his deck and begin stripping articles of clothing. It’ll be just for a minute, you decide. Just a quick dip to cool off, then you’re gone, and your daddy’s best friend is none the wiser. You strip completely bare and dip a toe in the cool waters, then quietly slink into the pool.

The water is soothing against your hot skin, the familiar smell of chlorine filling your senses. You wade for a bit, then dip your head under the water, doing a little flip. Pure fucking bliss.

Joel is in his bedroom, he thought he heard his deck creak. He figured it was the raccoons again, Sarah was always feeding them cookies and chips that she shouldn’t have been. But then he hears a splash.

Joel peels his bedsheets off his body and takes a few steps towards the window, finding a young woman in his pool. Naked, her bare ass exposed to the air as she swims across the pool back to the deck. It’s only when she hoists herself up and steals a towel from the basket on the deck he recognizes her as you.

And dear lord, what a fucking sight you are. Your dripping skin illuminated by the pale moonlight, your nipples pebbled and perky from the cool water. You towel your body, then your hair, and then dress yourself. And as quickly as you got in the pool, you leave, hanging your towel over the ledge of the deck.

Joel bites back a groan and palms his cock. He tries his best to shake the images of you, his best friend’s daughter, from his mind. But he can’t. Instead, he strokes his cock furiously, your supple tits and plump ass tattooed on his eyes. Who the fuck do you think you are, swimming bare assed in his pool? Before he even realizes just how close he is, he spills onto himself, making a mess on his clothing.

The next week, you do it again. You walk past Joel’s house, Joel chokes on the mouthful of beer when you wave to him and Tommy.

Tommy smirks at Joel’s mishap. “She sure grew up, huh?”

Joel swallows thickly. “Yeah,” is all he can choke out. Tommy doesn’t know the half of it. He knows your skimpy workout shorts and sports bras, but he doesn’t know what’s underneath. Not how Joel does.

On your way home, you eye Joel’s pool. Empty and dark, waiting for you. You tiptoe through the grass for a second time, strip bare, and dip into the water. This time, you swim for a longer duration, feeling confident after pulling off last week’s stunt with ease.

What you don’t realize (other than the fact Joel watched you through his window last week and subsequently masturbated to his memories of your naked body) is that Joel is in his garage, waiting for you. He stands in the doorway, hidden by the shadows. He planned it this way when you walked past his house. This way, he thinks, he can get a closer look. Watch how your body moves, hear the noises you make.

When you dip under the water, Joel quickly sneaks to the deck and ruffles through your clothing, finding your panties. He grips them tightly, hides back in the garage, and watches you emerge from the water. This time, he jerks off to you with your worn panties clutched into his hand, held under his nose as he inhales your scent. When he comes, he feels a tinge of guilt, but pushes it deep in the back of his mind. He’s dead fucking wrong for this, but so are you, after all.

When you step out of the pool, you can’t find a towel. Joel smirks mischievously at your confusion when you realize your panties are missing too. Did you forget to wear them? Left with no choice, you put on your clothes over your wet skin, your dripping hair soaking your t-shirt. You slip on your sandals and quickly sprint around his house to make your way home.

Only, you run right into Joel, literally. His torso is firm and he grabs your shoulders with his big hands.

“Woah there, kiddo. Finishing up your walk?” he asks you.

“Y-yeah,” you stutter. “Just on my way home.”

Joel eyes you as he blocks you with his big imposing body on the sidewalk, still holding you tightly by the shoulders. You feel small, vulnerable. “Whatcha all wet for?”

You freeze, any words you can think of getting caught in your throat. Joel raises an eyebrow in suspicion, or entertainment, at the way you try to think up a lie. “Got caught in some sprinklers,” you mumble. Your eyes dart past him, but his pupils stay focused on yours. It makes your cheeks burn.

You’re not much better of a liar now than when you were a teenager, he notes. He loves watching you lie to his face when he knows your dirty little secret. He’s made himself come twice now to your dirty little secret, after all. It’s really quite amusing.

You stay frozen in place, Joel’s intense gaze making you uncomfortable. There’s something so off about his demeanor. There’s something unnerving about him, he seems too cool. Shouldn’t he be as startled as you are?

“Gotta get home. Goodnight, Joel,” you pull away from his grasp. You need to get out of this situation before he puts the pieces together, if he hasn’t already.

“Goodnight, sweetheart,”

A few days later, on your regular evening walk, you pass Joel’s house. This time, Joel’s alone on his porch and sipping a beer.

“Get your ass up here and have a drink with me!” he shouts at you, a playful tone in his voice. “Now that you’re legal.”

You blush at the memory he’s referencing. You were only a teenager, couldn’t have been older than sixteen or seventeen. But how rebellious you were.

You snuck into his garage, a cigarette between your lips, and stole a bottle of vodka from his freezer. As you turned to leave, you saw Joel in the doorway, his expression somewhere between upset and amused. He said nothing as he took the ice cold bottle of alcohol from your hands, his fingers gracing lightly over yours.

He motioned for you to sit in the dusty patio chairs by the fridge as he put the bottle of vodka back in his freezer. Then Joel pulled the cigarette from your lips and took a drag, letting the ash fall on the cold cement of the garage floor. “S’not good to smoke,” he exhaled, smoke rising out of his mouth as he sat in the chair closest to the fridge.

Once you sat down, he passed the cigarette back to you and you took a drag of your own. “I know,” you mumbled, unable to meet his face. You could handle the disappointed expressions of your parents, but Joel? Forget it.

“I won’t snitch to your parents if you quit f’me. Can you do that?”

You nodded shyly.

“Good girl,” he said. You shared the rest of the cigarette before Joel smudged it out on the floor with his boot. He pulled you up out of your seat, shoved his hand into your jacket pocket, and stole your pack of cigarettes. Then he sent you home.

That was the night your budding infatuation with Joel really took off. Of course, you were attracted to him before, but it was something about that night. The way he called you good girl, how he took your hand. How he shared your cigarette, the thought of tasting his lips without actually kissing him.

You never smoked another cigarette again.

“Beer?” he offers you.

You don’t really like beer, but you do like Joel. “Sure,”

He walks into his garage to grab you one, opens it and then hands it to you. “Settlin’ in okay?” he asks you as he pulls you in for a hug, perhaps squeezing you a bit too tight.

“I’m doing okay, yeah,” “Stayin’ out of trouble?” he teases you.

You roll your eyes. “Yes, Joel. I’m staying out of trouble,”

Joel winks at you, pulling another swig of his beer. There’s something about him, he’s got that same smug look from the other night when you ran into him. Like he knows something you don’t. “Sure, kiddo,”

You smile shyly, unsure of how exactly to respond.

“How about this heat, hm? You keepin’ cool?”

“Oh, yeah,”

“S’good,” Joel smirks again. You can’t help but squint at him, unsure of what he’s getting at. He’s not talking about–he doesn’t know. Right?

Sarah interrupts then, calling for Joel to come in and watch American Idol with her. Joel bids you goodbye, you finish up the last of your beer and leave, starting for your walk once again.

When you cross Joel’s house on your way home, you battle yourself in your mind. Today is by far the hottest day of the summer, the heat never once breaking. You’re conflicted: on one hand, you’re dripping sweat and aching for the cool waters of Joel’s pool to soothe you, but on the other, you risk getting caught. It seems that Joel is onto you already, but he would have confronted you. Right?

You decide to go for a swim. Walking into Joel’s backyard like it’s your own, you strip and sink into the pool. You dip your head under the water, doing flips and twirling in the water. The starlight dances over your skin, you look like Aphrodite herself.

Joel just watches you, quietly. This time he’s not in the garage, not in his bedroom. He’s next to the deck, watching how your perky breasts break through the surface of the dark water. He’s sick of being teased by you. It’s his turn to fuck with you.

Joel discreetly grabs your pile of clothes and a nearby water gun. Ever so subtly, he fills the water gun with the pool water, and waits. It’s not long before you swim back to the deck and you realize your clothes are gone. You lean over the edge of the pool, checking to see. Did they fall under the deck? Where the fuck did they go? How are you supposed to get home?

You feel a squirt of water on your asscheek as you’re leaning over the edge. You whip around, not seeing anyone. This is getting fucking eerie, you search for your clothes frantically now.

Phwit phoo! You hear a whistle and whip your head back around, and there’s Joel. Right in front of you, holding a squirt gun. “Tsk. Thought you said you were stayin’ out of trouble,” he chides. He doesn’t look the slightest bit surprised or angry. He just looks like…he knows. Like he’s been watching you this whole time. Has he?

“Joel!” you gasp, quickly covering your breasts.

“You lookin’ for these, sweetheart?” Joel holds up your pile of clothes in his hand for you to see. Your mouth drops open. “Tresspassin’ and public nudity ain’t no joke, you know.” “Joel, I’m so sorry. I don’t know what I was–”

“All y’had to do was ask me if ya wanted to use my pool, honey. You know I woulda’ let you. This heat wave and all,” he stares at you, eyebrows raised, playing with the squirt gun in his hand. He squirts it a few times into the water before tossing it aside. “Certainly wouldn’t want you to get heatstroke.”

“I know, I just–”

“You just what?” Joel interrupts you, “I know what your problem is, honey. You still got that rebellious streak in ya. S’that why you’re wearin’ these slutty panties, hm? Skinny dippin’ in my pool every night?” he holds up the panties, lacy and cheeky. “C’mon now, you know better.”

You reach for the panties, your heart beating through your chest and your cheeks on fire. Joel pulls them out of your reach. “Ah ah ah, mine now. You’re in trouble now, sweetheart. Since you wanna act like a fuckin’ slut and whore yourself out for the whole neighborhood to see,” he tuts disapprovingly at you, “Where’s your self respect?”

You swallow thickly. You don’t know what to say, what to do. You’re caught red handed.

Joel climbs up the steps, each thud of his foot hitting the deck like thunder in your ears. “I’ve got half a mind to call the cops,” he mutters.

“No, Joel, don’t. Please, don’t,” you plead in desperation.

“I dunno, kiddo. This is pretty serious. Think it’s about time you face some real consequences,” his voice is dark and unwavering, you know he means business. “The way I see it, hon, you got two options,” he starts, sitting down at the pool. He dangles his legs next to you, sending ripples your way. He’s wearing nothing but his boxers and a thin gray t-shirt. “Cops can teach you a lesson or I can. What’ll it be?”

It’s no question. “You,” you say. “You, Joel. Please, don’t call the cops.”

Joel chuckles. “Smart girl. First good decision you’ve made in a long time, sweetheart. A long time,”

He takes off his shirt, his tan skin glowing under the sparkling stars and moonlight. Then he takes his cock out of his boxers, already hard and leaking precum. Your mouth drops open, knowing exactly the type of punishment you’re in for. “You know what I think?” he starts, exhaling deeply, “I think you’re bored.”

“What?”

“Y’need somethin’ to keep you busy, out of trouble,” he continues, “Let’s start with that filthy mouth of yours, hm?” Joel begins stroking his member, smearing precum with each pass of his hand.

Desire shakes your bones and you nod, understanding where this is headed.

“Always thought you’d be nicer with a cock down that throat of yours. Shut you right up so you can’t backtalk me. Now get your ass over here, girl,”

You swim over to him, situating yourself between his thighs.

“C’mon, open wide for me. Know you can,” he commands you, and you part your lips around the angry tip of his cock, so rosy and agitated. “Suck.”

You don’t waste a moment. You drag your tongue up and down his shaft, swirling a couple of times over his tip. You savor the salty tangy flavor of his skin, so soft and smooth under your tongue.

“Quit your teasin’,” Joel shoves your head down on his cock, hard. You gag and sputter onto him, pulling back to catch your breath. Your struggle only encourages him, he forces your head to stay down.

“You’re gonna take my cock all the way down your throat, baby. Just relax, open wide,”

Your jaw is already sore trying to accommodate his member. He’s thick and long, filling your mouth completely. You begin bobbing your head up and down, up and down. Massaging him with your tongue, tracing over his bulging veins.

“That’s it,” he praises you softly. “Doin’ so well f’me. Always knew you’d suck me real good.

You cup his balls in your hand and continue sucking, making a mess of his cock. Spit dribbling down your chin and into the thick tuft of curls at the base of his dick.

Your jaw is aching, but you don’t dare stop.

“Look at you,” he coos, his strong hand caressing the side of your face before settling at your jaw. “Good lord.”

He bucks into your mouth, pushing you to your limits. He’s letting out little grunts and groans now and then, and then you feel his cock twitch in your mouth.

Joel pulls you off his cock, a trail of spit connecting his member to your lips. Then he grabs you by your biceps into his lap. “Gonna let me fuck some sense into you, hm?”

Your heart jumps at his request, but you’re not ready. “No, Joel, need you to touch me first,” you beg. After the way his thick cock made your jaw sore, you know your pussy needs warming up to accommodate his massive size.

Joel chuckles darkly, one hand firmly gripping your ass and the other holding his cock. He lines himself up to your entrance, notching the tip at your hole, not yet ready to take him. “This is your punishment. Ain’t s’posed to feel good, honey,” he says, his voice cool and collected.

“No, Joel,” you protest, wiggling your hips away from him. Your heart is pounding, your stomach drops.

“Maybe,” Joel grunts, both hands now holding your asscheeks in a vice grip. “If you’re good t’me and keep out of trouble, I’ll love you a little sweeter next time,”

He doesn’t give you a moment to process his words before he unceremoniously pulls you down on his cock. The stretch and burn is unimaginable, your eyes blur with tears and you nearly scream, but Joel covers your mouth to muffle your shock.

“You be quiet,” he warns you with a stern voice. You’re on top, but he’s the one in control, pushing and pulling your hips up and down on his cock. Using you as his own fuck toy. You bite into his hand, doing your best to hold back your screams.

“Joel,” you cry into his palm, tears falling down your cheeks and over his knuckles. The pain is bordering on unbearable.

“Relax,” he commands you, his voice somewhat soothing. “Just relax f’me, hon. Quit squeezin’, open up,”

He’s right. You just need to relax your muscles, let yourself take him. As he fucks into you, you focus on the small amount of pleasure you can feel deep inside. It grows larger with every thrust, and soon enough, the painful stretch is replaced by pleasure.

You sigh in contentment, savoring every delicious thrust. Joel fucks into you with such fervor, hitting that sweet spot inside you with each and every one of his movements. “Oh, Joel,” you moan. Your arms are wrapped around him, your head falling to his neck. You bite into his neck and inhale his musky scent, woody and slightly sweaty. That, coupled with the smell of the chlorine fills your nostrils, a wonderful combination.

“Jesus, girl,” he whispers, his hot breath making your skin prickle. “Lettin’ me fuck you like this for the whole neighborhood to see. You like this, don’t you?”

“Yes, daddy,” you gasp.

Joel stops, pulling you back from him. “Daddy, huh? S’that how we’re doin’ things?”

You blush, unsure of what to say. You didn’t mean to say that.

Joel fills the silence. “You’re worse off than I thought,” he says like it’s a fact. You can’t quite place his tone, or how he feels. “You’re a lost cause, baby.” he exaggerates his sigh, disappointed.

You look to the side, trying to think of something, anything to respond to him with.

“S’alright, though. I like you like this,” he begins fucking you mercilessly again. “All mine.”

“Fuck, Joel,” you scramble on top of him, grasping at his toned body to keep from falling into the water.

“Mhm. Who am I?” he grunts through gritted teeth. He drags a hand up your torso and pinches at your pebbled nipple.

“Daddy,” you whine. He bounces you up and down his cock, fingers painting bruises into your soft skin.

“S’right,” he mumbles.

Joel fucks you like you’ve never been fucked before, deep and hard and intentional. His movements are precise, calculated. You’re clay in his hands, he’s molding you into what he wants. With each movement, you become his entirely.

You’re breathless as he thrusts into you. His feet splash in the water, you feel drops on your back every so often. His calloused and rough hands holding you tightly. His warm torso pressed to yours, one of his hands groping at your soft breasts.

He feels you squirm, he feels your pussy clench around his cock. Your breaths are frantic and uneven. “You’re close, aren’t ya?”

“Yeah,” you whine. He’s reading your body like a fucking book.

“That’s just too bad,” he tuts. Your stomach fills with dread, knowing what his next words likely will be.

“Joel, please,” you cry.

“Mm mm,” he mumbles, his eyes fixed on yours. His eyes are dark, full of lust. Desire. Desire to control you, make you his and his alone.

“Let me come. Please, daddy,” you grind your hips into his, feeling the friction of his hair on your clit.

“I don’t think you deserve that, my love,” his voice is sickeningly sweet, full of fake sympathy for your predicament.

“No, m’so close, please. N-fuck, not gonna last,”

“Don’t you dare, sweetheart,” he warns you, never once changing his pace as he fucks you. “You’ll be in deeper shit than ya are now, I don’t think you need that,”

“Please,” you cry, feeling the beginning of your orgasm bloom deep in the pit of your stomach. “Please, please, please,”

You can’t help it. You can’t stave off your release any longer. With whimpers and moans, you come all over his cock, your slick dripping from your cunt and painting his lap. It sends bolts of electricity through your veins and you shudder uncontrollably, mouth wide open and your eyes screwed shut.

Your pussy quivers, squeezing and massaging Joel’s cock is all he needed. Making a strangled sort of groan, he spills into you, hot ropes of his come shooting inside you and painting your walls. He holds you tight enough to break bone as he fucks you through your shared releases.

With the stars in the sky now behind your eyes, your chest heaving up and down in gasping breaths, Joel lifts you off of his cock. Your skin is damp with sweat and you dip back into the water. And to think you thought you were hot after your late night walks.

Joel watches your slick and his own come drip from your spent cunt onto the deck, then into the pool. “Look at this godforsaken mess you made,” he points to his lap, glistening with your juices. “Naughty fuckin’ girl. You just can’t help yourself.”

Godforsaken mess is right. You look at him with wide eyes, speechless. He stares right back at you with his own intense and piercing gaze, that same look when he caught you stealing his vodka.

How far away that night seems now. It hits you, what you just did with your father’s best friend. Joel, who practically raised you, who taught you to drive a stick and held your graduation party at his house. All of those barbecues, those hot summer nights spent on his deck, the same deck you desecrated just moments ago.

You just can’t help yourself.

“Shoot, you poor thing,” he sighs, tucking himself back into his boxers. He doesn’t bother putting his shirt back on, but he does grab your panties and clutches them in his fist. “You’re fucked now.”

Joel’s legs splash in the water as he stands up and goes back inside his house, then tosses you a clean towel from inside.

You really are fucked now.

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#strang3lov3 #joel miller x reader #joel miller x you #joel miller smut #the last of us #joel miller #the last of us hbo #pedro pascal #pedro pascal x reader #dbf!joel x reader #dbf!joel smut #dbf!joel #dbf! joel miller #dbf!joel miller #dark!joel miller #dark!joel miller x reader #speckledemerald

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onelittlespiral · 10 months

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FML: Obedience

My friend had gone home for the summer and returned all kinds of fucked up. At first when he had come back, I hardly recognized him. Gone was the twig who had sat on the bench for his high school football team. He looked and acted like he had been the star player. He, however, refused to acknowledge anything was different. For weeks he was talking up how he wanted to hit the dating scene in town, and he had gone home a few nights with some guys from the bars, but he always said after they weren’t what he was looking for.

After weeks of this I finally had swung by his apartment for the first time since he was back. Even here, where abandoned crafts and junk food was usually scattered, the place was filled with video games, protein powders, and the spare bedroom had been converted into an at home gym. When I arrived, he was in a white tank, a common look these days. He was hooking up the video game system for us to play a few rounds of Madden.

Whatever it was, I was quickly bored with the game and we moved to watching a movie. For the first time in a while it felt nice to feel comfortable with him, and began relaxing. It was about then that he wrapped his arm around me. Eventually, we were softly cuddled on the couch as I began feeling a way I hadn’t since I broke it off with my GF.

Something about the way his arms were soft and strong just felt so right. This close I smelled his worn through deodorant and musk, as I slowly felt myself melt into his arms, nuzzled into his pit. I felt myself slowly slip away as he turned to me and gently kissed my neck.

“Get up,” he said. Softly but firmly. Dream like, I followed his command as I wandered after him into the home gym.

As I laid down on the bench, he handed me a pair of goggles, instructing me to slip them on. As I did, a pleasant spiral was set in front of my eyes. He then began rubbing my body, whispering instructions in my ear. “I have been looking for a new partner for a while. So many had such promise but turned out to be such failures. But you are going to be my good boy, so strong, cute, and obedient.”

My mind perked up when he said that, but quickly he re-positioned himself on top of me and fixed his pits back under my nose.

Between the overwhelming smell, the spiral, and the feeling of his body now pressed against mine, my mind could only accept what happened next.

I could feel my body begin to grow. It started in my feet, stretching across the floor. Then up my calves, on fire as they swelled nice and strong. It hit my thighs and ass, swelling with a mixture of muscle and fat that raised my body off the bench. My stomach slimmed slightly as new pecs pushed out begging to be grabbed. A slight tickle creeped as hair pushed out, leaving my torso nice and fuzzy. Thick ropes of muscle wrapped around my arms as my fingers held tightly onto my…boyfriend’s? back. My face reshaped to support a handsome jawline and a strong beard and mustache. As the changes wrapped tightly around my mind, I felt years of studies and memories slowly drain down into my growing pouch. My balls quickly swelled, begging for release as my mind was left much better, simply focused on the most important thing: my boyfriend and making him happy.

He carefully climbed off, slipped the mask off my face, and looked at his new half.

“God babe you’re so fucking hot”

I stood up and answered him with a kiss. He simply picked me up and took me into the bedroom. I submitted, ready for the release that would cement me as his.

Over the next few weeks, we continued to train, game, and make out. He quickly got me on a plan to keep me growing for him. I was more than happy to oblige. I have no memories before him. My boyfriend is my world. And he lets me know after every work out how hard his life would be without me.

#straight to gay #male transformation #bro #hypnosis #transformation #fml

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kneelingshadowsalome · 11 months

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I have an odd request… perhaps a captain price fic where the reader is much younger and edgy- likeee covered in tats and stuff,, and price isn’t rly used to that but finds it hot as hell… idk maybe they work together ?? Smut ensues …

IDK I have tatts and wonder what he’d think of that 👹👹

Just an idea 💡❤️😫

Fire it Up (John Price x F!Reader)

Word count: 7.8 k

Tags/warnings: Smut 🔞 mutual pining, flirting, swearing, older man/younger woman dynamic, forbidden love, smoking & drinking, voice kink, a tiny brat taming kink squeezed itself in here too. Reader has tattoos and works as a coder at the base. Rough ~10yrs age gap described, reader is of age I hope to god it goes without saying (Price is canonically 37) Also: no use of 'daddy' in this fic

A/N: I'm so glad for this request anon and I hope you like what I made! Also people please be gentle, this is my first Price fic 🥹 God I wish I could attach the fat scent of cigar here to give you the full experience.

You don't know what caught your attention first.

The cigar, perhaps. Or the beard? Might be his hips, the ass that tells you this man can fuck a woman for hours.

Or maybe it's the fact that he's too old for you.

No, not too old…

Just older than you. A decade, perhaps, if you were being gentle with him and lenient with yourself.

He certainly isn't old enough to be your father, but he wasn't the type of man your eyes usually drifted on either.

He looks like someone who's supposed to be fishing in Alaska, sucking that fat cigar while taking in the view of mountains while trying to catch wild fish in some wide, free stream.

He's supposed to come home to a remote cabin: to his little wife who pours him a scotch after he has shown her what he caught today. Make sweet love to her while stars shoot and speckle the indigo night.

He looks like someone who makes love to women.

You, on the other hand, want to ride with him to the sunset on the back of a Harley, clutch his jacket as he drives you to some bizarre highway motel. You want to watch him drink that scotch from your navel.

You'd do all kinds of crazy shit with him, keep his head between your legs with both hands, grind all over that mustache, and see how wet it gets. You want him to pound you with those narrow hips, take you from behind while you look back with parted, swollen lips and relish the sight of what must be a grown man's hardened body, covered with hair and scars and–

"The bug's still there."

You return to reality, look at the code on your screen, and then at your colleague, a 20-something bloke who looks at you with the lethargic stare that only belongs to techies. You've just been caught daydreaming your eyes off in the middle of a lazy afternoon. Coffee doesn't do shit after 2 PM…

"Yeah I know. I'm working on it," you say. But when the dude leaves, you decide it's time for a creative break. You tell yourself it's only because the code jumps on the screen, not because you hope to catch a certain someone smoking outside.

The leather jacket is a little too much these days, but you throw it on out of pure habit. You realize the weight of your mistake when you go outside from the ventilated building and notice the sweltering heat. Spring has finally turned into summer.

Coffee doesn’t do shit, but it’s time for another kind of wakey-wakey. And butterflies are a funny term for something that mainly feels like it’s eating your insides out of pure excitement.

Because he's here too.

Jonathan Price, although no one calls him Jonathan. Few call him John, either.

Mostly, he goes by the title Captain.

He's stressed; you can tell. But his eyes soften immediately when they fall on you, a brief look to the side, just to know who else comes out to have a breath of fresh air or a smoke. He looks like he's been expecting you, but that might only be a silly girl's daydream. You two share a vice, and you've never been more grateful for your bad habit before this place and him.

And you wouldn't call it necessarily a bad habit. It's simply stress relief if you do it once or twice every few weeks. It's not like you smoke two packs a day. It's not like you even smoke one cig per day.

Although ever since you started this odd little job in this odd little place, you've smoked one or two nearly every day… And it's not because of the stress.

It's because of Price.

John. You’d like to see his reaction to you moaning that word in his ear…

"How long have you been here?"

His eyes are still on you, mouth covered by a hand as he makes love to his cigar. And that bedroom voice always gets you. It's better than the upcoming slow drag of nicotine. You're not here for tobacco at all.

"Two weeks." You reach for your excuse and try to prevent your hands from trembling as you light the cig. Usually, you're not this shy with people. Not with men, anyway. But with him, your wits and words disappear.

You blow the smoke through the air with a quick, lively wisp where he lets it roll out his tongue in a heavy cloud. He's still watching you as if to weigh what kind of woman you are exactly.

"How about you?" You continue the small talk with nervous ease.

He chuckles; the little smile even shows a flash of teeth as he steals a look at the clouds, calculating years with those surprisingly lively eyebrows curled up toward the sky.

"Ages."

He's not that old. Perhaps well over his thirties, might be knocking his forties. The statement is merely an underline of his stress today. You can only wonder what kind of pressure the captain of Task Force 141 is under when you get sleepless nights from a stupid source code. There are a few wrinkles around his eyes, but they only tell you that this man smiles a lot. He might be the only one in this compound who smiles a lot.

"Have you ever tried a cigar?"

There's a glint in his eyes as he offers the thick roll of tobacco to you. It's suddenly difficult to breathe, difficult to even keep your thoughts together.

"No," you shake your head as if your answer wasn't enough to tell him he's the first person ever to offer you such a thing. Then you realize the word does not precisely deliver your eagerness to try that stout cigar.

"Would love to," you hurry to add with a soft smile. "Can I have a taste?"

He walks to you slowly, and your eyes drop to those hips, which sway like he's purposely trying to seduce you.

Fu–ck…

Then your eyes sink even lower, between his legs, to his fucking junk, and it's too fucking late–

Jesus–get your shit together…

You force your eyes back to his and see the little glimmer in them gain a surprised spark – you're totally caught red-handed on checking him out.

Fuck. How can you be so stu–

"Gently then, kid."

You swallow your heart and thoughts down and take the offered cigar; of course, your first thought is how thick and heavy it is. And somehow, you decide right then and there that you will no longer be the nervous, hot-cheeked woman on the corner.

It's time to make him flustered.

So you take a hollow-cheeked, slow suck on the fat cigar. A chaste, savory taste, more like, but there's nothing chaste in the way you raise your eyes to his, putting every ounce of soft seduction in that stare.

He draws breath slowly – his face is full of expression for an allegedly cold-hearted elite soldier. You don't know how often women flirt with this hunk of a man, but he sure looks taken aback by your sudden play. Probably thinks you're too young for him – and you curse the second time you put that jacket on. You want to see his reaction to your sleeves.

"Mm. It's thicker than I thought," you weigh the cigar between your fingertips and let the smoke roll out your mouth. The man switches his weight from one foot to another, speechless, and you suppress a big beam of a smile.

"The taste," you emphasize as if innocent, as if you didn't see that shocked little shift. "Round, and… god, it's almost sweet."

You smile as you give it back, and he chuffs an approving laugh through his nose – those eyes are bear-warm playful now, his mouth curves into an easy smile.

"Nice," you look him up and down as if you're talking about the man and not the cigar.

"Beats those little sticks."

His voice drops down a few notes; it's almost a husky growl. You barely make out the words he's saying. The tension in the air could form little balls of lightning around you, the flirt is over the roof, and there's even no roof because you're outside – and you take your jacket off, slowly, to make it clear it's summer and not spring.

His eyes fall on the ink immediately, and he blinks a few times, draws some more breath – you tweet your thanks accompanied by another smile and go back inside.

You know he's checking your ass in those black jeans as you walk away.

….....

It doesn't end there.

You see him again and again and again, and at some point you realize he has to walk almost 100 meters from the other end of the base to get to the little corner where the two of you smoke.

He's intrigued but decent. Holds a distance, never says anything that could be taken in the wrong way – or even in the right way. But he's fucking you with his eyes.

No… making love to you.

And it drives you crazy.

You don't want that. You don't need that. To be that little wife in the cabin. Pouring him a drink, climbing in his lap, ghosting a finger down the stubble on his chin, see how wide and proud it makes him smile to hold you like you're his and his alone...

God. When did it come to this?

You suck on his fat cigar every now and then. Look him in the eyes while you do it. Once, it makes his tongue dart out, it wets his bottom lip, and then he does that thing with his mouth... the thing where he kind of purses his lips and it makes the mustache dip, and you realize, you learn it's a sign that he's restless, he's flustered.

You make the big, burly captain of Task Force 141 flustered.

And he doesn't smell like the people inside smell. Of stale coder sweat and Joy Division and soft drinks and mommy's home-cooked meals. He smells of rich forest and fine bourbon and half-burnt gasoline. Maybe Saxon on vinyl. Definitely beats those little sticks that are your nerdy co-workers at the hacker department, as you call it.

He may have a flask somewhere; perhaps he takes a sip or two every now and then, whether at work or not. And you don't blame him. Even with those laugh lines and that brown bear benevolence, you can tell he's seen things.

You wonder what he's like out there in the field. Brutal? Or just efficient?

He never asks about your tattoos, but he eyes them often. There's a certain admiring esteem in his stare. He's checking you out, scratches his chin, and rips his eyes off when they start to drift down. He forces his eyes to stay above your neckline no matter the cost. You mourn that you got rid of the septum a few years ago: you're pretty sure he would've liked that, too. After all, it's a piercing that screams 'warrior' the most. Break after break, you return to your desk, aroused and giddy and surrounded by the rich, masculine aroma of his cigar.

One night, he drives by when you're walking home after what was supposed to be one or two pints.

The car is a big, black pick-up, and when it slows down and starts to inch by your side, your first reaction is a silent curse of why the fuck don't you carry some pepper spray in your pocket.

"Hey, you ok?"

Your head rises from the asphalt the second you recognize that smooth, pleasant voice of a man you had compared every guy to at the pub that evening. The whole man is brimming with burnt sienna, he's hard alcohol with no ice…

You stop and turn, a little wobbly from the pint turned to two or three. Or four.

"Yeah. Had a little girl's night out."

The car rumbles softly, not two meters away, and the sound reminds you of his voice. A soft purr that can turn into a growl, even a roar if he wants to.

He looks like he's going fishing, even without the boonie hat. The dark hair is cut short, so you won't have anything to tug if he ever ends up between your legs. But you don't really mourn that fact, because he looks so damn good.

He looks you up and down, and you notice the briefest blob of his Adam's apple before he gives you another offer.

"Want me to give you a ride?"

Would love a ride.

Would fucking love to ride you.

"Sure. That's kind of you."

Your eyes must be sparkling like the fucking stars.

"No problem at all," he leans his elbow on the open window and waits while you round the car and get in. You try to tone down your drunken state, but your moves are a little too brash for a calm and collected coder lady this man has usually caught leaning against the wall of the workplace you two share.

"Did you have fun?"

He sounds like a dad picking up his girl from a school disco, and you purse your lips in slight distaste and amusement.

"Yeah. You know how it is when someone asks you for a pint."

He gives a short laugh and starts to drive. "That never ends well."

You smile and turn to look at him.

"Mm… This one kinda did."

You enjoy the brief look out the window, the sight of someone so formidable and robust and experienced trying to find his way out by feigning something caught his attention in the black, empty distance of a quiet city.

"Glad I could be of service," he brushes off your flirt like it's nothing more than a speckle of dust on his coat.

The rest of the ride is silent, too silent. He turns the music off in case it "bothers you," and it turns into an awkward, overly polite fight about whether to keep it on or not.

It's a minor shock to notice he was listening to some classical. Not 80's rock, not country, not even BBC. He was just soothing his nerves.

You can't put your finger on what makes you feel so sheepish around this man – usually, you put men on a leash with a few dry jokes and a hearty laugh or two. Now, your flirting is shy and does nothing: there's a wall built up, and from behind that wall, only a few stolen looks…

The pick-up is humming, the engine is running at idle next to your place far too soon, and it's time you get off the car – but you have vehemently decided you will knock down that fucking wall even if you have to drag him to your bed.

"You wanna come up and have a nightcap?"

Another look out the window as he raises his hand over his mouth, fiddles with his mustache, and avoids the rising heat between you two.

"Thanks, kid. But you need to sleep."

Your heart is pumping, and you feel like a harasser as you place your hand on his thigh.

He doesn't move, but you can hear the audible swallow this time. He doesn't move a single finger even when you slide your palm down that leg, then drag it over to the inner thigh, and start to drift back up slowly, slowly, to give him the time and space to stop you before you reach….

….the visible bulge between those legs, the absolutely gorgeous, ample bump pulling at those pants, something so delicious that you must fight tooth and nail not to race your hand up there and give it a fond grope.

His hand falls over yours just before you reach it.

"Kid. Let's leave it here and call it a night."

His voice is strained and tight, and he's still looking out the window. You don't move your hand away because he doesn't move it away. His warmth stays there, keeping you against him, and you feel like shit for thinking it's not a no… That it's a yes when he seems to hold your hand as a prisoner, wanting to feel your dainty little palm against him.

Your fingers curl slightly, a hopeful gesture to imagine how it would feel to curl and claw at his hips and that ass while he's fucking you.

"Listen. You're a nice girl. A very nice–"

You give a heavy, demonstrative sigh and finally draw your hand away.

"Come on Cap… You're seriously going to give me the "you're a nice girl" talk?"

Finally, he turns. His nostrils quiver as he tries to keep his breaths calm. Your lips part like it's a whole caress he just gave you – and his gaze drops to your mouth instantly. You start to see where the problem is.

You're too young.

You're forbidden.

"I offered you a nightcap," you tilt your head slightly. "You can come up or you can go home."

You wet your lips, give the bottom lip a tiny little bite, and offer him the last, inviting, soft smile. It must hold an equal amount of sorrow because you can't drown the bitter feeling of rejection, no matter how many drinks you've had that night. No matter how much he seems to want you, it doesn't change the fact that he's apparently decided to stay strong and keep his hands off the cookie jar.

You turn and get out of the car, lean on the door for the final fucking time...

"Didn't know I'd only get to suck your cigar... You're all smoke and no fire, Price."

The door flies closed with a louder slam than you originally meant.

Now that was a little bit passive-aggressive, you have to admit. But you're drunk, and he's being a pain in the ass, calling you a kid, looking at you like that, having a fucking hard-on and giving you nothing.

…But it does the trick.

You smile like an idiot when you walk to your place and hear the purr of the engine stop. Another car door opens, then closes, wide footsteps follow you…

A nightcap it is, then.

He looks even bigger when inside a place with walls and a roof. He stands inside your apartment tall and wide as if he's waiting to call attention. Those large hands are over his crotch, concealing the swell of erection you already saw in the car.

You know the tank top you wear reveals even more skin covered in tats as you throw your jacket away and go get him that drink. The glasses glide on your table, slide nearly to the floor, and the bottle of Jim Beam meets the counter with a devastating clank. You look at the excuse to get him into your place and sigh.

"You know what… Fuck this."

Offering cheap bourbon to someone like him seems a bit ridiculous. So you offer him something he might actually like. Something he actually came here for.

You walk to him and throw your hands around him – he stiffens from the middle but looks down at you with a heated glimmer in those eyes. You could've sworn they were charred brown, the same color as his cigar, but up close you see they're actually molten iron. Mercurial.

"You sure about this?" He asks softly.

"Why wouldn't I be?"

He unclasps those hands from over his groin, and the warmest weight falls to rest on your waist, even steals a caress to your hip. You want to hurl yourself at him, press yourself against his crotch and grind until you bleed from just that tiny touch he finally gives you.

"You've had one too many, love."

Love…

Shit.

The warmth spreads from his eyes, from that hand, from the word that rolls out of his mouth like a beautiful puff of smoke. It unfurls inside your heart, swells inside your throat, plummets to your groin, and you switch the weight to your other leg to feel how that hand gains more weight as it gets pressed more firmly against you.

"Doesn't change the fact that I want you."

Your voice is nothing short of a purr. When have you ever purred like that to a man? You sound like a housecat, tame and adoring, waiting for a gourmet meal.

"You really want an old man?"

He still has that reserve in his eyes, decent and distant, but underneath, you sense a terrible heat, like the glow of a cigar lit in darkness, an adamant smolder that never dies out.

"You're not that old."

Your purr turns into a deprived meow. You dangle from his neck, and the smoke, the fire that surrounds him, blends into the gentle scent of a man, the musk of a mature beast. You know he's hairy under those clothes; he fucking has to be. The vision of how his cock must look, surrounded by untame, coarse fur, has tormented you night after night.

And now he's finally here. In your apartment.

You skate your hands over his chest while slowly dropping into a squat, then languidly kneeling in front of his crotch.

He doesn't stop you, not even when you open his belt and the zipper and crawl your fingers down the waistband of his underwear. You have to stifle a delighted gasp upon seeing how his cock springs free and stands proud in front of you in all its glory. And fuck yes he's hairy – the hairiest man you've ever had.

Cigars feel like tiny little sticks when you wrap one hand around him and lick the weeping slit like it's your favorite ice cream. The groan that follows is a husky eruption above you and gets stuck in his throat as you take him in your mouth.

"Fucking hell, kid…"

He's thick, broad, and the musk fills your nostrils, but what he just said makes you pull back and whisper on the bulbous tip–

"Don't call me a kid," you breathe on his cock, swirl your tongue around him, and his thighs bunch. "Old man."

You finally manage to push some buttons.

The back of his hand brushes your cheek, then slides over to your throat. He's gentle but firm as he forces a thumb under your chin, curls fingers around your neck as if you're a cat who's about to be force-fed some medicine that's only good for her.

"Is that how you wanna play it?"

His thumb brushes down the ridge of your throat. Tentative, promising.

"Perhaps," your lips quiver with anticipation as you smile; your voice is a pitched vibrato before it drops, just to give him a reason to put you in your place... "Old gum–"

The hand pulls up, the grip tightens just enough to guide you back to your feet and up to meet his face.

"Didn't know you asked me here to tame a brat."

Fuck…

You almost moan.

The hand doesn't choke you; it makes love to you. Claims you as his.

"Really…?" You sigh. Flash him a filthy, guiltless smile.

The fire surges forth and nearly buckles your knees. His eyes flash in rhythm with your grin, like a sudden flicker of a campfire in the middle of a dark, parched forest.

"This what you want? Hmm?"

The rumble reminds you of the engine of a Harley roaring to life. His throat is burned from the fire of his cigars, the hand on your throat is used to squeezing dead metal and pulling pins from frigid grenades. But even they can't stand a chance against his woodland fire and sycamore smoke. He could bring a cold, inanimate rock back to life with all that fire.

"Yes. I want it. John."

His name on your tongue is a cat's meow. It has the exact effect you hoped for.

"Let's get the brat tamed, then."

"Hah," you finally moan. "Promises, prom–"

The fingers around your throat pull you to his mouth with a python strength. His lips spread yours with soft devouring as he coats you in fire. The coarse beard smells of sweet tobacco – nothing like a pungent cigarette. It's like an old memory: safe and sturdy and strong. Male.

You moan in his mouth – god, what will it be like when he's inside you? – and he capes both arms around you and crushes you against him. Broad shoulders envelop you like a shroud of thick smoke, the cock gets trapped between you like a hot spear, and you mewl like a slut.

Your pussy clenches, just from his warm mouth, the rich velvet of his lips. He takes everything with that kiss, and you're weak in his arms as he bends and molds you against him just the way he wants, opens your mouth with his own and breathes you, samples you like those puffs of smoke he sucks from his cigar.

Your brain short-circuits, you barely notice how your top slides up as his hands go under it. It's dragged up, up, over your breasts and then over your head as he detaches just enough to rip that piece of clothing away.

You look at him like he's Christmas, then reach for your bra while he opens his pants more to get them down. Your jeans are accursedly tight, and he's breathless, too: the whole room is dark and filled with heavy breathing and rustle of clothes as you claw your socks off, slide your strings down and away, watch him get out of his shirt and throw it on the floor too, all propriety gone.

And then…

Jesusfuck–

He picks you up, lifts you from the ground like you're nothing but a leaf, and strides with you in his lap until your back meets a wall.

The barrel-like chest presses the air out of your lungs while your back travels up – you don't know if his arms or chest do the lifting, but you're being positioned for his cock to enter. Your hands try to grasp something solid before it's too late – his back and neck – your legs wrap around him, feet hooking over his ass as the thick of his tip pokes your soaked folds, and after a few seconds of probing, slides in.

"F–uck…" you gasp, sounding so needy that it could be a voiceline from a bad porno movie. His lips find the place between your ear and neck immediately.

"Be good for me now," he gruffs, dark and round like the sweetest bourbon, although you know he's the finest single malt in the world. "Be good…"

"Ah–John…"

I'll be good…

Just for you, I'll be so, so good.

He pants heavy on your neck, grunts as he starts to fuck you against that wall. You knew he might be intense, but apparently, you had no idea. The man is needy as fuck, and has concealed it up until this point.

You could cry, scream from joy from the thickness that spreads you, fills you with every fat glide of a thrust. The sex borders on rough but is so incredibly tender too, so needy it makes your heart collapse, compress into a taut knot in your chest. It's the softest rocking, the gentlest fucking as he retreats, then ruts into you again and again with sharp, rusty moans. You're in a slow but steady rodeo with this man, your breasts pressed against a solid chest covered with hair, and it tickles, even if his pecs threaten to crush your ribcage.

"You're one hell of a girl," he gruffs in your ear, beard grazing up and down your neck. "Taking me so– Fucking hell, look at you…"

His eyes are embers as they sweep over you: your abundant ink, the helpless, adoring look in your eyes, the little mouth that opens with a gasp, the trickle of sweat that forms between your breasts and meets the hair on his chest.

He doesn't have to look down to see how greedy your cunt is for him. He can feel it.

"This is what you wanted the whole time? Huh?"

He's all smoke. All fire.

"Yes…"

"Wanted me to take you against a fucking wall? Eh?"

"Yes…just, just take me," you moan and purr some more, giving him everything he wants. "Fuh–fuck me good…"

"Ahh shit..."

You know you're a drug to certain decent men. But to him, you're a forbidden fruit in all its aspects.

A calm, collected captain who enjoys wide respect, eyeing an edgy, younger woman from the tech department? That's not how this was supposed to go. Thirsting for someone who did what they wanted, looked just the way they wanted, walked this earth like a dark fairy – that's not his usual go, surely. He was supposed to settle down with a proper lady. If he were to settle down at all.

"I've dreamed of this," you whisper in his ear, lips moving just enough to deliver your secret to him.

"Yeah..? Me too," he gives your throat more love with a velvet growl. "Know I shouldn't, but–"

"Shh. Don't–don't…" You grip him tighter, taste the spruce and salt as you breathe his neck. "It's good. It's all good."

He rumbles in approval. Your skin is raw from his beard; even the coarse hair dusting his thighs feels too rough on your skin. And your skin is used to being needled, shot full of ink right inside the dermis. But this… This is branding.

You're silk in his rough embrace, and plundered with no remorse. You sigh and moan, hug him... And then he dares to stop, panting and throbbing inside you.

"Darlin'. Where's the bed?"

The soft question makes you panic. If you go to bed and let him push inside you while you're lying on your back, if you brave a look into those eyes while he takes you, you'll develop more than just a horrid lust for this man. If he collapses on top of you, spent and spoiled while you're at your most vulnerable, you'll tie a string from your heart to his, and you can't, you just can't allow that to happen.

Because he's untamed too. He's not a man who settles down, he's not up for domestication; he's a wandering fire.

"No–no bed," you pant on his muscles, the shoulder that keeps you safely pinned on the wall. "John…? Please."

He's breathing wild too, disguises his surprise well.

"Alright."

He sounds disappointed, and it's not because he doesn't have the strength to maul you against that wall. The rejection stings him too. It makes you want to offer a truce, a little something. When he rocks you again, you graze your fingers up the back of his neck, knowing he will feel ripples across his scalp from your caress.

"We can smoke a cigar after," you propose, not knowing why your voice still comes out as an airy whisper. "Together. I'll pour you that drink…"

His chest swells with a deep breath, he huffs fire on the hollow trench between your collarbones.

"Fuck, woman…"

It's dense syrup that surrounds you much like those shoulders and arms, that coarse hair, that bold male want.

"And after that I want you to…" You catch your breath and sound like a mouse with your next shy question. "Would you go down on me, John?"

It's like you're under a bear attack, but he stills; his head tilts a little to the side and meets your temple.

"You wouldn't tease a man like this," he says. A soft warning, brimstone coated in velour, but the core of it is despair. So much need, so much forbidden, distant want…

"Right? No more teasing."

He's still thinking that you're teasing him… That it's some kind of a joke that you want him.

"I'm serious... I want your mouth on me. I need your–"

"I'll put my mouth on you as soon as we're done here, love."

You have to bite your lips, suck them between your teeth to prevent another deprived moan from escaping.

"Want you to fuck me all night," you continue to whisper on his neck. You should shut the fuck up because it doesn't take a bed to tie that string from your heart to his. After all, they're right there, beating against each other through bone and skin and chest.

"Yeah? That's what you want?"

"Want you to… F-fuck me slow and good from behind and–"

You sniff. Whimper.

You should be ashamed: mewling for more when he's already buried inside you. What kind of a brat are you, wrapping your thighs around that narrow waist like you never want him to pull out?

And you're not crying.

It's just that the cock inside you is throbbing against your walls as if he's making a home there, his hands dig into your ass cheeks like you're his already, the breath upon your sweat and skin feels far too affectionate. When exactly did a raw wall-fuck turn into such an affectionate, gentle taste of love?

And it's not enough. You want to climb on top of him every morning, ride him slowly and watch him unravel as the sun climbs the sky and coats that fur in gold.

"Could you do that? Please… John, please," you whimper and whine, beg like you're tame already.

"I'll fuck you all night if that's what you want. Fill this pretty, tight cunt up every way you like."

It's coarse smoke. It caresses you until your legs start to shake. He adjusts his grip, drags the pull-outs like he drags those pulls from his tobacco. Keeps you nicely in place for him to drive back in–

"I'll fuck you 'till you cry, love. Yeah?"

He punctuates that promise with another good, fat thrust. You moan all tame now – a rippling stream, laughing and crying in his molten hold.

His cock fills you while your thighs quiver and tremble in his hands. Your pussy throbs; it sucks him already, the orgasm is seconds away, and your fingertips search for support but only slip over sweaty, hard muscle.

John. John.

"Fuh-…"

He spreads you a little. Those arms are pure iron as they mold you for him to plow. You know he can feel the waves, the way your cunt grips him with longer, deeper pulls as you start to sound downright pathetic.

"Just like that, just like… hah…"

"M-hm. Yeah," he bends the vowels, daubs them with smoke. "That's it. You're doing good. Doing so well my love."

He huffs between the thrusts that have turned into slow, intense love-making. He's making love to you – god, why does he have to be like this…

"Cum for me. Nice and pretty, yeah? Come on."

He encourages you with words, but you can't hear them anymore.

Heat coils in the pit of your core just before you burst with a heady scream.

The spasm is so sudden you almost hit your head on the wall. He's at your throat the minute it's exposed, and your scream turns into a weak wail when his tongue grazes your skin. It's blazing, and dips into the hollow between your collarbones like it's a shot glass full of scotch. Next thing you feel is fire, even some teeth on your neck.

And you thought Price might, just might be intense…

Your head drops as the blunt of the orgasm leaves you. Your feet unclasp, and next up would be some soft waves, but the man continues to fuck your shattered cunt and marshmallow soul with a good, intense pace. The words that pour out of your mouth are those of a brainless person.

"Ah–hah, God–"

"Where's that cheek now, mm..? Pretty little thing."

"John–h…"

The thrusts rub you against that wall like he wants to staple you there.

"So nice and good for me now, ain't ya? Cummin' on command…" An amused chuff right on your poor, chafed skin… "Begging for my mouth and cock."

You travel up and down in a limp heap, trying to hold on to him with weak limbs as he drives into you with a tight series of half-thrusts. Your legs hang loosely on the side, but he has no trouble carrying the full weight of you.

"Slow–slowly, Cap…"

"Ahh fuck–"

He swears on your ink, right on the trotting pulse on your neck. Through the vapor of man sweat and rich smoke and a whiff of cedar trees bending in the wind, you feel him tense and thicken.

"The fucking things you do to me…" he pants with a low growl, hushed but intense. Your pussy answers with a good, demanding pull.

"Fuck… fuck–!"

You're a limp doll between him and the wall when he comes. Pressed between a rock and a hard place, literally. His chest being the rock, an entire boulder that whips the oxygen from your lungs as he drives deep, his balls giving a few taut pulls against your ass as he empties himself into you with a satisfied, dry moan. A dark, ripe blossom, shooting straight to your core while you're sealed tight around him.

The world goes still after that; the only thing that moves is your breath and his, a refreshing hot breeze coursing through the stale air. The darkness of the room isn't half as snug as the safety of his arms.

Your fingers find his neck, the short-cut hair and the skin pounding with a rush of blood. He lets you go reluctantly, bends a little to set your feet back to the solid ground. He doesn't pull out, keeps huffing all over you even when you're returned back to the earth.

And you never want to come back. Your cunt still throbs around him and cries a tiny, thick stream down your thigh. His upper body still pins you against that wall, his breaths still mist your skin, caress the red burns of his beard.

He feels so good. Too good…

When he pulls out, he does so with intense care. He gives you some space to catch your breath, and you finally notice he has fucked your legs into splinters.

"I'm…" You break the hush of heavy breathing with a soft laugh. More viscous load pushes out of you with it. "I don't think I can stand."

"Yeah? Tried to take you to bed," he muses softly, sounding annoyingly content with his achievements.

"Gotta admit it was a good idea."

"As was the nightcap," he rasps, voice drenched in soft smoke.

"We'll get there eventually."

"I have no doubt about that."

You give him a soft, warm chuckle as you cast your eyes between the crest of his pecs. Rough, tight muscle meets your soft breasts with heaving breaths, and teases your nipples to taut little points. The wet hair on his chest looks good paired with your inked, smooth skin… You two look so goddamn fine together.

"I hope I didn't make you deaf with that scream."

He stands at his full height, but tilts his head down and slightly to the side as if you were a new, interesting species he's just found on his travels.

"Wouldn't complain, love," he says. More wet syrup, just for you. He weighs you with his stare, curious and appeased, and you feel shy. For fuck's sake, you still feel shy even though this man was inside you just a moment ago.

"The bed. Now be a good girl and tell me where it is."

"Down the…hallway."

A delicate little whisper, again.

It's laughable, how the veteran of Task Force 141 turns you into something so dainty and meek. Captain John Price takes you against a wall like you're nothing but a doll, makes you purr and beg, reassembles you into a weak-willed woman who gets carried to bed.

This is not how it was supposed to go...

He lifts you back in his lap while you continue to hold onto him like he's your prince Charming. A laugh spills on your lips when he tries to lay you gently on the bed and you manage to pull him down with you. You end up tumbling there in a sweaty, messy heap.

"Knew you were trouble," he's smiling too as he settles beside you. You curl and wrap yourself around him, your bodies mold and curve together like they're made for each other.

He's so solid, so warm, the kind of man you'd love to fall asleep on every night. No more cold sides of the pillow, no more tossing and turning and trying to get the code out of your head. Just… this chest, those ember eyes burning in the night. Some soft breathing, a roaring engine standing still, waiting for you, just for you…

"I hope this wasn't a one time only occasion," you test the waters.

"No." He shifts a little, disentangles from you slightly. "Unless you–"

"No."

You bend in his arms like a young willow, cut his doubts off with a kiss. It's passionate, and so sloppy it threatens to make the same sounds as your cunt and his cock a while ago.

The hand on your hip tows you closer, then steals its way down your leg. You hike your thigh up, perfectly willing. You're a sticky mess, but so is he: his rock-hard thigh meets your still soaked pussy like these two have always belonged together. And this man's full fire has escaped you until now. There are so many hidden, wild things in him too.

He would look so good on a Harley… He would look good on a motel bed after riding for days and days with you attached to him like an eloped dark bride. The nights would be smeared with hot sex and cinder and smoke, a dash of scotch on top, he could drink it from your lips. You would serve it to him from your mouth, round the taste a bit so that it wouldn't burn so much…

"Have you ever been to Alaska?"

The liquor is leaving you, but you don't feel any more sober. The lava in your veins has only been replaced by another kind of fire.

"No."

"Would you like to go?"

"What'ya mean," he murmurs on your tongue, and you know he's hard again just from the thick lust coating his voice. "What kind of question is that?"

"I was just thinking."

"What were you thinkin', kid..?"

"Don't… call me that," you laugh. In truth, you're growing quite fond of it. It reminds you of old movies. "Here's looking at you, kid" and all that.

His laugh is a charred roll in his chest. To him, you're a brat – an unruly kitten – no matter what you say.

"Kid. Why Alaska?"

He's curious. Borderline hooked. You steal a peek into those vulcan eyes.

"You'd look good in Alaska. Old man."

"Really," he rumbles a soft purr against your heart.

Another soft kiss follows. Affectionate… He plays time, but he's also a probing, scanning. You bloom in his embrace, unfurl on his lips like he just wrenched you wide. He could haul you to the cabin right now and you would only cook him dinner.

It's too late, even if you try to shift after such a kiss. Escape to press your cheek against that place between his pecs, the spot where the hair is darkest and thickest. You want to lick that valley where his heart meets his musk. That scent must be born from a good, stout heart.

"Would you take me with you…? If you ever decide to go."

It's a fragile question. A baring of the heart. It holds so much more than an inquiry about whether he would whisk you away on a secret leave. It's strings, pulling from your heart to his, taking root.

"Sure. But you're quite a handful, love."

"Is that so…?"

You crawl over him as gracefully as you can. He allows you to straddle him, and of course he does. You're no threat; you're only a one woman show. The only thing he's probably missing right now is a glass of scotch and a thick roll of tobacco.

He takes in the view with hunger: not satiated by that pent-up fuck, just like you're not...

But then his hands come to rest on your thighs to check if they're still shaking. The touch bleeds possessiveness: it's a thoroughly absent-minded, instinctual attempt to reach for you. It tells you you're exactly where you belong.

"You seem like the kind of woman who's not for the faint of heart," he says like you didn't just mewl in his arms like the tamest fucking housecat.

And perhaps that's what intrigues him. Contrasts. And even more than that, the odd place where black fuses into white, the gray area where everything is possible. The split-second moment when the skin accepts the ink and traps it in.

Everyone always says you get buried with your tattoos. That you should think twice before staining your skin with such permanent hookups.

But the thing is, you get addicted to it. It's like standing on the edge of a cliff before a bungee jump. You know you'll never be the same person after you jump, and you know you can't leave that cliff without jumping. It's a stalemate until you clear your mind of doubt and just plunge.

And you don't want to leave this earth without getting stained and sweaty, without dipping your soul into the full experience. You're supposed to get a little dirty. This is Earth, after all.

Your fingers disappear somewhere in his slick fur. Sunrise is hours away, but his eyes spark aflame. They're always, always smoldering like the butt of his cigar. He's a man who causes wildfires at the end of the world – he's a reckoning, a flicker in the dark forest, roaring into a bonfire as soon as the wind passes through the trees.

And you've always loved fire. Wild, and free. The only thing that competes with such freedom is a wide, wild stream.

"But you can handle me. Right?" Your fingers curl softly around the hair surrounding his navel. "Tame me and everything?"

It's an offering that causes even fire to tilt its head in curiosity. In the end, you're not sure who tamed who.

"Someone has to," he grabs your hips with rich promise.

You'll pour him that drink. Light him a cigar after his mouth is full of your taste, see how well it pairs with fire and smoke. You'll toast to the Harley, the crazy motel…

And Alaska.

#john price x you #john price x reader #john price x female reader #captain price x you #price x reader #captain price smut #captain price x reader #john price smut #john price #mw2 smut #captain john price #john price fanfic #cod fanfic

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junicult · 1 year

Text

!! the bachelors & hot features they have / things they do

contains ; gn!farmer. written w fem!farmer in mind, but nothing that specifies. established relationship. nsfw. body / facial hair headcanons. suggestive content. mostly sfw w fluff. not proofread.

note ; ok so this is a prompt i made like a year ago on my other blog, so i just decided to bring it here w stardew valley characters!

harvey.

- he’s literally the loml.

- he’s so well groomed, his hygiene is genuinely perfect.

- ofc we know he has his famous mustache, super clean and neat. he trims it every so often to keep it that way.

- and i feel like he can grow a beard, but it doesn’t come in as thick so he decides to just shave it.

- this man has a happy trail 🫡

- a dark, thick patch of hair that trails up to his belly button. it progressively thins the higher it goes, but it’s definitely prominent when he’s wearing low shorts or even just boxers.

- he keeps that nice and trimmed too. i’m tellin you, he’s so clean.

- he also smells so good. whether it be cologne, or just him, it’s so good.

- he’s a boxer briefs kinda guy. they make him feel secure.

- he probably sleeps in a matching pair of pants and shirt. lol.

- but likely during the summer, he’ll end up falling asleep in just his boxers every once in a while.

- this man is the perfect husband.

- wakes up to make you breakfast, makes dinner to give you before you get home.

- on lazy days he’ll clean up the house, make sure it’s all nice and tidy while you work on the farm.

- he recognizes you have a lot to do, so he wants to give you as much as you give him.

- a househusband, if u will.

- he’s a cuddler.

- whether it be just sitting on the couch, watching tv, or lying in bed—he’s cuddling u.

- big spoon, little spoon, wrapped around your body one way or another.

- if he knows you hate cuddling, he’ll be cool about it. but you’ll probably have to compromise and give him something, like his hand holding yours or your head resting against his chest.

- your presence is enough, he just likes to feel you’re there before falling asleep.

- he’s huge on emotional intimacy.

- after a long day, and he gets to just unwind with you, and maybe a glass of wine every once in a while is like heaven to him.

- the type to set up a nice bubble bath with candles and stuff, just so you two can sit and catch up.

- “hm? no, my day was fine. much better now.”

- i’m just saying, harvey, with his hair slightly damp, glasses low on the bridge of his nose, head tilted to the side while listening to you intently, and his body all covered in bubbles. he’s so…

- fuck i love him.

sam.

- a thinner happy trail, but still goes up to his belly button.

- it’s like a slightly darker patch of blonde hair.

- he doesn’t really have to groom it or anything, but he does make sure it’s fairly neat every once in a while.

- he honestly doesn’t really dwell on it though. it’s just there, and since you’ve expressed interest in it, he’s more then happy to leave it.

- i feel like he could grow facial hair, but it always comes in super patchy and thin, so he just shaves it off.

- he honestly prefers it that way too. it just doesn’t look good on him.

- boxer shorts 🤭🤭🤭

- those baggy, plaid shorts that look so fucking good, especially when he wears them low on his waist.

- that’s all he wears to bed lol.

- CUDDLER!!!!!!

- spooning with him is so cute, swear.

- probably bc he wants to strictly be little spoon.

- even if you’re significantly shorter then him, he loves feeling like you’re his little backpack.

- i almost wanna say he moves around a lot in his sleep. it’s really interesting to wake up and see where he’s laying.

- like, he can go to bed with his whole body tucked under the covers, head on the pillow and feet at the end—but he’ll wake up with his limbs hanging off the end and entirely upside down above the covers.

- all of that but somehow he knows not to touch you, so it’s like a little surprise every time you both wake up.

- he absolutely loves pda.

- not an inappropriate amount, but there’s no way he can go even an hour without kissing you somehow when you’re together.

- holding your hand when you’re standing together, leaning over to give you a kiss on the cheek just cus.

- he loves going 1 on 1 with you during pool, but mainly because he just loves how sassy you get when you’re winning.

- or, whenever he’s playing against sebastian and he has you by his side cheering him on.

- he feels on top of the world.

- he’s so in love with you, swear.

shane.

- 😵‍💫

- he’s got what i’d like to say is a dad bod.

- round tummy, large arms, broad shoulders. he’s attractive in a realistic sense, and he may not be incredibly confident, but your attraction to his physique makes him a lot more self assured.

- especially when your eyes wander a little when he takes off his shirt, and he can mask his flattery with a teasing comment.

- “wanna take a picture?” so smugly, just so he can see your lips purse and you immediately look away.

- *sweats* h-happy trail….

- it’s thick; and dark, and not necessarily groomed, it just kinda grows one way & he doesn’t really touch it.

- literally 😮‍💨😮‍💨😮‍💨

- not to mention he also definitely has chest hair, but not enough that it’s disgusting, y’know?

- and he has facial hair.

- just subtle scruff all around his chin and jaw, mainly because he couldn’t care enough to shave but also bc he knows you like it.

- that’s about all he can grow, anyways.

- it’s extremely (and i mean EXTREMELY) rare he’d shave, but on the occasion he does…

- tease him about it.

- loves when you rub your fingers against his cheeks, especially when you’re sitting in his lap just like, “it’s so soft, you look prepubescent.”

- he doesn’t, not in the slightest, but it’s still funny to see him swat your hand away and his face gets all red.

- after u got married and he got better with his addiction, i’d like to think he became much help on the farm.

- you need trees chopped? he’s ur guy.

- clean the chicken coop? obviously.

- maybe even sometimes if you’re not feeling good, you can bet he does everything you need for you.

- so his body definitely builds from that, but don’t fear! he’s still got his chub.🫡

- he sleeps in boxer shorts also.

- that or some pants, but never a shirt.

- if he’s wearing a shirt in bed, something’s seriously wrong with him. that, or it’s like the dead of winter (but even then it’s so rare.)

- this dude is like a FURNACE at night. he’s literally radiating heat just by laying there.

- and he’s not an initial cuddler.

- he loves you, but he likes his space getting ready to fall asleep.

- but i can promise you, somehow during the night he’ll end up wrapped around you entirely, squeezing u and practically lighting you on fire w his body heat.

- it’s endearing, tho.

- no matter how much he says he hates cuddling, he still ends up like that somehow (so who’s to say he really hates it?)

sebastian.

- 🤭🤭🤭

- lean build, pretty skinny.

- super pale too, and i’d like to think he has a ton of random freckles spotting across his body.

- not very many on his face cus he doesn’t get much sun (lol) but yeah, little moles here and there.

- his skin is also super smooth all the time for some reason.

- he’s not weak by any means, lowkey sleeper build except nothing really comes out when he uses his muscles LMFAO.

- like, if you give him a bunch of logs to carry that are really heavy, you expect him to only grab a few, not the whole bunch.

- and he can carry it effortlessly. it’s easy to forget he’s genuinely strong.

- but anyways, he doesn’t have chest hair or a happy trail.

- no facial hair, either. literally none. he’s just never been able to grow it, and he’s actually totally fine with that lol.

- his pubic hair is so well groomed, and that isn’t even by cause. his hair just naturally looks like that.

- a small dark patch around his shaft, fairly short but still just utterly average.

- if he whipped his dick out, you wouldn’t be shocked or anything.

- he strictly wears pj pants to bed, no shirt.

- he has veryyy subtle definition in his abs, so subtle you’d have to squint to see it.

- and he’s the kind of guy that (if he wanted to) no matter how hard he tried to get bulkier, it just wouldn’t work.

- he’s just genetically a pretty lanky guy, and while growing up he was embarrassed by it, right now he couldn’t care less.

- he’s grown to be more confident in himself after being with you.

- this man loves being praised, and when you reassure him he’s the ideal man for you.

- “you look so handsome today. did you do something with your hair?” hearing that first thing in the morning, when he didn’t even do anything & he actually doesn’t feel super attractive at the moment: yeah he’ll be thinking about that for weeks.

- it makes him feel so good whenever you randomly shoot one-liners that’ll catch him off guard like that.

- like in passing during a busy day, you’re just coming up to check on him for a couple minutes and you wrap your arms around his shoulders, giving him a kiss on the cheek.

- “you make it so hard for me to stay on task all day.” you sigh, grinning when he clearly gets all flustered.

- and he may not be as bold as you, but he has his moments.

- “mm, what if you just stayed in bed with me today?” “wish you’d stop pulling away whenever you feel gross, y’know it doesn’t bother me.” 👀👀

- this probably doesn’t need to be said, but i’m gonna say it anyways,

- he doesn’t like pda. the most he’ll do is hold your hand if you’re in public together, maybe kiss you on the cheek if he’s feels particularly affectionate / protective every now and then.

- he likes to keep his relationship private, it makes you feel a little more special to him.

- like, he loves the fact that only he gets to see you in specific ways.

- such as just being together on sappy evenings, softly mumbling things you love about each other while being in his arms. things like that.

- cus for him, if he does stuff like that in public, well for starters he’ll get uncomfortable. he’s too introverted for stuff like that.

- but really, it just means anyone can look over and see what you both look like when you’re all vulnerable with eachother, and to him he’d much rather keep that private.

- now, that being said…this man is so clingy lol.

- if you both are having an indoor day, and he’s working on the computer, while you’re just sorting through stuff inside, he’ll want to be near you.

- you’re at the stove? he’s at the kitchen table.

- you’re in the living room? he’s on the couch.

- you’re brushing your teeth? so is he.

- it can be dead silent between you two, just as long as you’re nearby, he’s happy.

alex.

- he’s one of the guys with a more toned physique.

- he’s got some pretty nice arms, can i just say.

- they’re toned, grow larger when he flexes, even resting they look pretty nice.

- and his abs too, they’re not crazy, but they’re definitely there.

- a nice definition you can see even when he’s not flexing. there’s at least four there.

- as for facial hair, he has none.

- i feel like if he could grow some, he’d definitely leave it. it’d make him feel more “manly.”

- but he just doesn’t LMFAO.

- now, non-facial hair is a different story👀

- he’s got a happy trail folks!!!

- it’s a dark, thick patch of brown hair that trails (once again) all the way up to his belly button.

- and it’s so fucking hot.

- it might be the prettiest (next to harvey’s, ofc.)

- believe it or not, he’s actually pretty neat with it.

- he takes pride in being attractive! ofc he’s going to groom it.

- trims it whenever it gets untamed, but never shaves it off. he loves it, and he knows you do too.

- he’s also a boxer briefs guy. 99% of the time, he’s walking around wearing only his boxer briefs in the house.

- especially whenever it’s an indoor day, yeah, he’s not even bothering getting dressed at all😭😭

- that’s all he sleeps in. even if it’s the middle of winter.

- another pda fan.

- but this time, dare i say…he’s a little more bold.

- he’ll kiss you like he does when you’re private, even if there’s people around.

- cupping your cheek, pulling you in for likely more then 5 seconds sometimes.

- he’ll hold onto your waist when you’re standing together. he’ll stand behind you with his arms wrapped around you, even.

- and well, yes there’s empty seats all around you, but that’s too bad. cus he’s pulling you into sitting in his lap.

- he loves knowing everyone’s jealous of him.

- you’re so attractive, he knows all the other men look at you thinking the same thing.

- and he just loves how he’s got a rock on your finger that’s similar to his. he loves the fact that you said yes to him, not to anyone else who would’ve asked.

- so he loves showing you off.

- he’s got such a high libido, so he’s fairly sexual all the time.

- rolling over to kiss you after fucking you for literal hours, and even just the sight of you lying there, trying to catch your breath has him ready to go again.

- he’s one to grope you (consensually!)

- like, if ur walking by him, he’ll grab your ass and shoot you a grin like nothing even happened.

- but he knows when to be more serious, like if you had bad day and you just need a good cry.

- i’d like to think he’s really good at comforting people.

- he was there for his mom whenever his dad was treating them horribly, and he definitely helped her through a few tears, so he’s perfect at just holding you.

- he’s genuinely a sweetheart. yes he’s cocky, and flirty, but when it comes to people he loves: he’s so perfect.

elliot.

- *cracks knuckles*

- he can grow facial hair, but he normally goes without it.

- it comes in thick, but it won’t grow past any stubble (or at least he doesn’t let it before shaving it all off.)

- but omfg…his facial hair looks so nice when he lets it grow for a bit.

- especially when he kisses you, or lets you cup your hands around his jaw during that phase.

- he’s another one that loves to feel your fingers rake through his hair when you’re just commenting on how handsome he looks with it.

- despite how attractive it is, he still prefers it gone. so it’s rare when he lets it get to that point.

- his has a very subtle happy trail. it’s mostly just a patch of hair that peeks above his waistline, and it doesn’t go all the way up to his belly button,

- but it’s still as handsome as ever.

- his sleepwear is literally silk. stg.

- he’s so extra.

- he probably even got you a matching pair with your initials engraved “just cus.”

- but when he isn’t wearing all of that, he’s probably just wearing some regular pj pants and a shirt.

- it’s rare tho, cus like i said—he’s so extra.

- something so casual, but so attractive that he does is when he’s super exhausted with writing for so long, that he just leans back in his chair and sighs.

- like…he throws his arms over his head, manspreads just a little and sighs.

- or or or

- after you’ve had such a long and exhausting day, he’s quick to place his pencil down and open his arms to slot you on his lap.

- “tell me what’s the matter, my love. want me to make you some tea, get you some water?”

- and while you’re talking, he’s just gently rubbing your thigh and kissing your arms softly.

- he’s just so gracious and endearing.

- this man 😮‍💨😮‍💨

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cod-dump · 7 months

Text

Graves: *wakes suddenly and sits up*

Graves: Motherfucker- *leans over to turn on the light before he turns and reaches over Nik to reach Price and aggressively wakes him up*

Price: What the fuck- Phil!

Graves: If you ever shave off your beard and leave nothing but a handlebar mustache I will leave you

Price: … what-

Graves: Unless you had no choice. I’m talking at gunpoint. If you ever do that on your own free will I will fucking leave so fast. And I’ll take Nik with me

Nik, barely awake: I’ll go with him

Price: I-

Graves: I mean it, John! Fuck- you would look atrocious

Nik, still barely conscious: I’d still fuck him though

Graves: Of course you would

Nik, drifting off to sleep: He’d make it hot

Graves: Yea, yea- *turns off the light before laying back down and going to sleep*

Price: *remains sitting up, still very confused*

#price actually ends up doing it but graves doesn’t actually leave #he’s too in love to go through with his threat #call of duty #cod mwii #modern warfare ii #john price #phillip graves #cod nikolai #incorrect quotes #pricegravesnik #nikpricegraves

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m2m-author · 1 month

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The Right Groom

I've been helping my best friend plan his wedding for the last few months. The theme was 'Anyone But You', and at first glance it seemed to be an easy theme, with our powers and all, but the wedding is a month away and we still can't decide the body.

He accepts my call, and a stranger answers.

"Hey, man, what's up?" he says, the voice uncharacteristically chipper for a voice that deep. I immediately recognized that as Nathan, my best friend.

He spins and fixes his bowtie, the man grinning. "What do you think?" He gives the man's bulge a stroke.

"I don't know," I say. "He's cute, but I'm not sure he's groom material, you know what I mean?"

He sighs, "Yeah, I guess. I really don't know what to do! Steven already chose a body—before you ask, he won't tell me—and he smirked real hard, so I knew he chose someone good."

"Hey, hey, don't worry." Nathan, still in the stranger's body, was looking at me with brows furrowed and eyes shining. "You spot any more possible choices?"

He perks up a bit. "I actually do." He moves out of frame for a second. Even as his best friend, he still won't let me know the way he transforms. Geeze.

The phone moves rapidly for a moment until we reach his bathroom. Nathan has transformed into another stranger. He tries to smile, but only sighs in frustration. "What do you think?"

He flexes his arms and twirls the man's mustache. "I can see it. He's handsome. It's still up to you," I say.

"Come on," he whines, and it's amusing seeing this mature body acting like that. "My mind's been blank for months. I need help."

"Okay. Don't Steven like hairy guys? Maybe you can find someone like that?"

"Wait! Check this out." He starts taking off the suit, revealing the body's furry chest and belly. The body's cock is long, and Steven doesn't shy away from stroking it.

With one hand on the phone, he strokes his chest, closing his eyes and enjoying the warmth of the body. He moans, the body's voice smooth. I grin at him, my hand reaching down to massage my bulge.

"Oh god," he moans, pinching his nipples. "I think I want to fuck him in this body. Or maybe he fucks me."

He lets his mouth hang open, staring at his reflection in appreciation. "Jesus Christ. I wonder who he is in real life."

"I can call you back," I say with a grin.

He smiles sheepishly, the body's pearly white teeth on full display. "Right. Sorry. So this one's definitely in the runner up, right?"

I nod. "Looks pretty good to me. His voice is hot too. You got another body?"

"Yes! Glad you reminded me. I saw this man in the mall a few days ago. I couldn't resist."

He sends me a photo of a bearded man taking a photograph in what seemed to be a bathroom.

"I didn't get to stay for too long," he continues, but the man's hairy, and he got a pretty thick dick. I'd love to ram that dick down Steven's throat." Nathan, still in the hairy man's body, sticks out his tongue and bobs his head up and down.

I laugh. "Maybe that could be your honeymoon body?"

He grins. "Just look at this thing! Even just looking at it makes me want to fuck somebody with it. There were too many people in the mall, but I did pee using that thing. Could barely hold it with his hands."

He sends me a dick pick, and sure enough, it's a monstrous 10-incher, as thick as a beer can.

"Goddamn," I say, breathless. I had a pretty modest cock, but even though I've spent my time in countless dudes with giant cocks, it always made me wonder how they're able to keep to keep that monster hidden.

He stared at the phone for a few more seconds, uncaring, as the hairy man's mouth started drooling. A faint thought of wanting to catch that saliva passes through my mind. He shakes out of his reverie and says, "Wait a minute. Have you found your body? The best man needs to have the best body too!"

"I'm glad you asked."

I have it easier than most people, and I can transform into anyone using only a photograph. Some people need body touch, possession, vials, spells or some other tactic, but I only need a photograph and I can transform into that person instantly. Or at least the person they were when the image was taken.

I move off-screen (mostly because I'm mildly annoyed at Nathan still keeping his tactic a secret) and glance at the photo on my table. The change is instantaneous, and I immediately feel lighter. My head rang for a moment, a drawback for a transformation as quick as that, but years of practice left me fully able to lessen that migraine.

I smile at him in this new body and say, "I saw him online, and I just couldn't resist."

Nathan rolls his eyes with a smile. "Lucky."

I take the time to explore the body once again, enjoying the strange sensations all over my body. One thing people don't mention enough when changing bodies is how literally every single thing changes: your senses, your visions, even the way you perceive things. This body, for example, has excellent health, but slightly blurry eyesight.

I open my shirt, reaching for his pec. His warm skin sends a ripple down my body, and I'm acutely aware of the growing bulge in this body. My other hand has reached his pants, massaging them, through the fabric making me moan harder.

Nathan doesn't say anything, continuing to change bodies as I explore every single inch of this body.

"Hmmm…" I whisper. Even his voice sends tingles down my spine. I massage his big thighs, the fabric of the pants feeling oddly satisfying against his skin. The thought of the real body seeing himself doing this sends a thrill. Sometimes I daydream about pretending to run into him with his own body, trying to seduce him using his own voice. I imagine using his hands to slowly massage his body, kissing the original man's lips using his own. I've already released his cock, stroking it in all its glory. It's veiny, pre-cum making it all shiny. I stroke the guy's cock faster, blood rushing in and making his dick even harder. It pulsates, my knees losing strength as I think of sucking the man's cock using his own mouth. I grip the side of the table as I gasp, closing my eyes as cum shoots up and onto my clothes and on my face.

"Finally got that out of your system?"

I'm still closing my eyes, breathing up and down, relishing the feeling of hot cum on my face. When I open my eyes, I gasp at Nathan.

"I think I found the one."

#male transformation #hairy male #suit #hairy bearded #hunk #hairy #selflove

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tieronecrush · 1 year

Text

hot & heavy

chapter one: southern nights

neighbor!joel x f!reader

series masterlist

series rating: E (18+ only, MDNI), nothing explicit in this part but future parts will be

series summary:

over the course of three summers, joel miller becomes woven into your life. the first summer is spent falling for him; nannying his daughter and sneaking around with him in a burning love affair. you know how you feel about joel, he isn’t so sure about how it all is gonna work. the second summer is brief. a month spent at home after graduation and before you move to boston for your dream job. one look at you, one time hearing your voice, and joel is hooked again. he pines over you for that month, but you think — how is long distance of over a thousand miles going to work for a single dad? the third summer, you return home burnt out and pride bruised from your post-grad life. you need time to feel at home again, like your complete self, so you’ve come back home with no return ticket booked. it’s only a matter of time before joel seeks you out, slowly spending more time with you. without an inevitable end to the summer looming over you both, what chances are you willing to take?

word count: 4.4k

warnings: NO USE OF Y/N, NO OUTBREAK (don’t need to worry about the mushies), age gap (joel is 30/31, reader is 22), canon-divergent (sarah is 7 y/o), mild alcohol use, mentions of food/eating, pet name (sweetheart), polite southern manners (*cough* sir *cough*), feeling familial and self pressure

“I can see a truck pulling up now! C’mere, see if you can get a glimpse of them. You’ve got better eyes.”

Your mother is standing at the side of the picture window in your living room, attempting to stealthily get a good look at the new neighbors moving in next door. Her hand waves you over from where you’re standing at the bottom of the stairs, disheveled from the sleep that is still fogging most of your brain.

You definitely have to be half asleep because you comply with your mother’s urgent pleas, the bottoms of your bare feet sticking to the humid wood floors. You are fresh-air people, as your mother says, leaving all the windows and doors open for as long as humanly possible in the summer. It only lasts for the first few weeks of warmer weather, and eventually, everything gets sealed up and the house becomes a frigid ice box with the way your parents crank the air conditioning. Peeling your feet off the floor one last time, you stop in front of the glass.

Standing next to your mother, fully visible in the open window, you study the moving truck that’s pulled into the driveway adjacent to yours.

A local company. Must already be from Austin.

Behind the massive truck, a navy blue Ford pickup that you don’t recognize coasts down the asphalt, getting thrown into park in front of the lawn of the vacant house. Two men, maybe early thirties if you had to guess, climb out of the driver’s side and passenger seat, already talking over each other.

The one at the passenger side has dark brown, nearly black hair that looks just long enough to need a trim and frames his face with curls. Fairly tall, firm build. The white ribbed tank top that he’s wearing hugs his torso underneath the green shirt thrown on over it, buttons undone. He has a shit-eating grin on his face about something that must have been said, hand banging on the side of the car before he walks back towards the bed to grab a cardboard box out of it.

The other, the one that’s come out of the driver’s side, looks a bit older than the passenger. Much more cropped, but still messy, lighter brown hair sweeps down onto his forehead, the back of it curling up slightly at the nape of his neck. Definitely could use a haircut, too, but the bedhead is endearing. A hand reaches up to scratch at the trim beard and mustache that he’s sporting, the facial hair framing his strong jaw nicely. His eyebrows are furrowing in frustration or annoyance, or maybe a bit of both while his head shakes back and forth at whatever his companion joked about. He makes the grumpy stare charming, and you suddenly have the thought that you’d like to know if he’s always got that crease in his brow or if that’s only reserved for the man who was unpacking the truck now. The muscles in his biceps flex as he shuts his door, t-shirt pulling taut over his chest as he steps to open the rear door, a grin growing on his face.

Out from the backseat pops the most adorable little girl you’ve seen. Looks to be about seven or eight years old, maybe, with tiny, sweet features and dressed in a lilac shirt and denim Bermuda shorts. She’s got voluminous, kinky curls that show off natural highlights in the Texas sunshine. She’s giggling and giddy, reaching for the man who opened the door to help her down from the raised truck. He scoops her up, a shriek of laughter coming from the little girl as he slings her over his shoulder. More muscles flex in his back as he carries the weight easily, walking back to the bed of the pickup to grab some bags out of it to bring inside.

So tunnel-visioned on the vignette of family life playing out in front of you, you didn’t even think that you could be seen. A voyeur of your street, you forget that your curtains are drawn, the window is open, and a large pane of clear glass is the only thing in front of you. As if he could feel the burn of your stare, the eyes observing his movements, the man carrying the little girl turns towards your house. His stare catches your own that was already trained on him, a friendly smile plastered to his face as he raises the hand holding the girl in a short wave.

Mortifying. The first impression that your new neighbor, your attractive new neighbor, had of you was you, standing in ratty cotton sleep shorts and an oversized t-shirt, hair falling out of the hair tie at the back of your head. Heat warmed your cheeks and the back of your neck at the embarrassment of being caught, and of being caught in this outfit.

Your mother next to you erupts in laughter, turning away from the window as you grumble under your breath about that interaction being her fault. Trudging back up the stairs to get ready for the day, annoyance is still twisted in your expression. You skip back down the stairs to the kitchen, dressed and hair fixed up, skidding into the open room to see your dad at the table alone, the newspaper in his hand with the job listing page already pulled out and set at your usual spot.

“Morning, kiddo.”

“G’morning, Dad.”

Sliding into the wooden chair at the kitchen table, you start to look over the listings in search of a summer position to occupy your time at home before you start your last year of university in the fall. There are a few postings for dogwalkers, hostesses, and waitresses that you’ve already seen or applied to in the last week. A couple of bartending jobs catch your eye, thinking about the tips to be made, but your thoughts quickly deflate when they require state licensing.

A huff of disappointment rolls from your lips when your mom comes back inside through the door to the garage, an artful smile pulling at her lips. She’s looking directly at you, the expression making you uneasy in anticipation of whatever news or plan she’s concocted. Your mother meddles, in the most loving way possible, but she can’t help but stick her nose in everyone’s business. So the next words out of her mouth really shouldn’t surprise you, but they do make your stomach turn with newfound anxiety.

“So, I just met the new neighbors. Well, one neighbor and his daughter, I guess. The Millers. His name is Joel, and his daughter’s name is Sarah, she proudly told me she was seven years old and starting the second grade in the fall. The other guy we saw was his brother that he introduced me to, Tommy.”

You’re currently rereading the same job listing over and over again to avoid looking at your mom, feigning disinterest as you nod slowly at what she’s saying. At the same time, your nerves zip in excitement at knowing his name now, and you bite your tongue to ask your mom to continue, knowing she’d tease your eagerness.

Instead, you let her tell you about the rest of the brief interaction, recalling whichever neighborhood Joel had said they moved from and how he and his brother have lived in Austin their entire lives.

“Oh! I almost forgot to tell you both,” your mom addresses your father for the first time in the conversation, the call to his attention making him lower the newspaper to look at her, a silent nod getting her to continue, “I invited them over for a barbecue tonight to take a break from moving in and have a nice meal after their long day. I’m gonna need you to run to the store for me, and I’ll have to get to cleaning the house…”

Your mom’s plan for the day and list of chores trail off in your ears as a buzz muffles it. Your hot neighbor was coming over to your house, tonight, and you were going to have to face him after being caught blatantly staring.

How great for you.

The sliding screen door pulls shut behind you with a woosh and a click, returning to its pathetic job of keeping insects out of the house while letting the slightly cooler evening air in. Foamy flip-flops smack against the weather-worn oak wood deck as you shuffle over to the large silver grill that your dad commands. Steel wool scrapes against the metal grates of the inside; your dad’s bent over to get better leverage to clean all the burnt bits off.

The beach-themed melamine platter weighs heavy in your hands, covered with burgers, hot dogs, and brats - plus a couple of veggie burgers - to the point where the design of crustaceans and shells in the waves and beach towels laid out on the sand is completely disguised.

“I didn’t ask what they like to eat, so I got everything I could think of! You can’t assume these days with all these new folks moving to Austin, I’m trying to be considerate,” is what your mother said to you when you asked if she was planning to feed the whole block or a small army with the amount of food that was going on the grill.

Don’t even get started on the sides.

You set the platter piled with meat on the webbed black iron patio table to the side of the grill, shuffling over to stand at the edge of the deck, overlooking the chlorine-blue pool water that shines in the slowly fading sunlight. Your parents had installed the in-ground pool the first summer you’d been home from college, jokingly claiming it was their way to make sure you came home every summer, and your brother, Chris, too when he went away to school a short two years after you.

To be honest, it may have been a joke, but it was definitely part of the reason you came back each summer. That, and you just felt more yourself, more at ease at home. It was your comfort zone, but after spending every school year pushing yourself out of your comfort zone academically and socially, you always wanted to return to the warm, sun-soaked home that you grew up in. Maybe that made you more dependent on your parents still, maybe your friends saw it as immature, but you knew what you wanted to do, and you weren’t going to suffer over break just to seem like “an adult” like your friends thought they did.

“You gonna go for a swim, kiddo?”

Your dad’s voice pulls you out of your thoughts, focusing your eyes back from the wide aperture they had fallen into as you stood mesmerized by the water moving down below you. Clearing your throat, you cross your arms over your chest as you turn back to your dad at the grill, the clicks of the gas burners lighting aflame while he twists the dials at the front.

“Maybe later. Once this attempt of Mom’s to get the first gossip on the new neighbor is over.”

Your dad laughs softly at your lightly satirical joke at your mother’s expense, shaking his head and giving you one of those looks that says ‘just do as your mother says like you always do.’

“Well, you can relax plenty later. Just be on your best behavior for the neighbors, will ya?” He laughs at his own comment, the sarcasm coating the request he’d made. You’ve never made waves in your family, in your friend group, in your neighborhood. Always known as the “sweet girl” to your older neighbors, the “golden child” to your peers and your family. Your initially reserved nature gives everyone the impression that you are a polite, kind Southern belle. If only they could read minds.

Flip flops thwacking with each step as you cross the deck again, slipping inside through the sliding door. Skating past the kitchen quickly before your mom can rope you into helping with more preparation, you take the stairs two at a time to get up to your room to get ready.

You’d be lying to yourself if you said that there was a small part of you that was excited to meet Joel. The majority of you burns with embarrassment and is dreading having to face him after getting caught in your voyeurism this morning, but with how attractive he was, it could be a bit fun to have him as a neighbor next door.

Which is why you’re standing in front of your full-length mirror, hair fixed up from the state it was in when he first saw you and a short, light blue sundress on. Eyelets and embroidery covered the dress, the square neckline was framed by cap sleeves. It was modest enough to keep your intentions for dressing up hidden from your parents, but it was revealing enough to make you feel confident to face your hot neighbor for an official introduction.

The next half an hour is spent following your mom’s instructions, most of them being silent points of her finger while she’s absorbed in another task. Every so often you make eye contact with Chris through the patio door, him in the middle of the same treatment from your dad out by the grill.

At one point, your mom is so tunnel-visioned that when you finish the last assignment she’d given you, you slip out to where your dad and brother are now lounging in the chairs around the table on one side of the deck. The metal scrapes against the wood as you pull out one and take a seat, sighing gratefully when Chris passes you a beer from the cooler next to him. The cap twists off with a hiss and a pop, the water from the melted ice dripping onto your chest. As you tip the bottle to your lips and dab off the water before it runs down your skin to the neckline of your dress, the Millers walk up the steps at the side of the deck, tumbling greetings over each other.

Your dad stands, your brother behind him as they take a few steps to meet Joel and Tommy halfway. Polite handshakes are exchanged while you get up out of your seat, beer left on the table to go get the embarrassment over with.

Sarah stands shyly next to her dad, her little shoulder completely encompassed by her dad’s hand as she looks up at all the men around her starting to talk about the latest Astros game. You smile softly at her and give her a wave as you move to stand with everyone, a slight smile growing on her face at someone acknowledging her. She steps away from her subtle hiding place next to Joel, the movement causing Joel to glance down at her before his eyes turn up to you.

A friendly smile ticks up one side of his mouth, brown eyes speckling with caramel highlights as he squints in the sunlight to take a step forward and reach out his hand to you.

“I’m Joel, the new neighbor.”

You give him a firm, polite handshake with a warm grin attached to it, nodding your head.

Please dear God, or whatever is out there, don’t let him mention this morning.

“It’s nice to meet you, sir. Hope today hasn’t been too much of a nightmare moving in.” Nerves bubble in your stomach, but you can’t help but feel them turn to butterflies when his eyes darken ever so slightly at the word ‘sir’, hand quickly falling out of yours and resting back on Sarah’s shoulder as he clears his throat quietly.

“Hasn’t been too bad, right bug? You wanna introduce yourself?” His eyebrows raise encouragingly to his daughter and the nickname warms your heart, watching as Sarah grows more confident to stand up straight, a smile on her face.

“My name’s Sarah,” she directs towards you and then turns to her dad, waving him to crouch down to her level so she can whisper at the not-so-subtle kid's volume, “What do I say after that?”

Joel chuckles lightly and whispers back to her quietly enough for you not to hear. He stands up straight again, watching Sarah.

“It’s nice to meet you, miss!” she turns to Joel again, beaming proudly, “Is that right?”

He nods and looks back at you as you laugh softly, a wide smile on your face from the adorable and incredibly polite greeting Sarah’s given you. His own smile pulls larger as you bend down to be at eye level with her, warmth emanating from you introduce yourself just as Sarah did and fall into conversation with her.

She tells you all about her last school year in the first grade, her favorite toys, and how excited she is for her summer camp. The two of you have moved to sit next to each other on the outdoor couch, your drink forgotten next to you as you listen to the bubbly seven-year-old.

Joel and Tommy stay in conversation with your dad and Chris near the grill, standing around in a semi-circle and making small talk about sports, weather, and the sturdiness of your deck. Joel and Tommy mentioned having a contracting business together, and your dad ran with it, asking them every question under the sun about the longevity of the build that was done a few years ago.

Your mom comes out to join them for a bit, sitting with you and Sarah as you talk with each other before she gathers all the meat fresh off the grill to bring inside and finish setting up everything.

A few more minutes pass before your mom pops her head out and calls everyone in to make a plate. You stand up and wait for Sarah to climb off the couch, following behind her bouncy curls. Everyone’s made it through the door ahead of you, except for Joel as he lingers to wait for his daughter. One of his hands finds her head as he carefully ushers her inside, turning to you with a sincere look in his eyes.

“Thanks for keeping her entertained. She loves to talk, doesn’t really get that from me,” he drawls out, his accent a bit thicker than yours. You shake your head, waving a hand at him to dismiss him.

“She’s the one keeping me entertained, I’m surprised I’m not boring her with my lack of summer plans to discuss. She’s very excited for day camp,” you chuckle quietly, still standing less than a foot from Joel at the sliding door. You can smell the body wash he must’ve used in the shower before coming over, fresh eucalyptus and birch mixing with the richer cedarwood and bergamot of what you assume is his cologne.

“Oh, yeah. Big time. She was begging me to sign her up finally this year and it made sense with my work schedule getting busier. But, still, thanks for hanging out with her.” He nods toward the door, gesturing for you to walk in ahead of him. His hand hovers behind your back as you step in ahead of him, fingers brushing your dress lightly before he quickly pulls them away.

You stand to the side to let the guests go through to get their food first, Joel helping Sarah put everything she wants onto a plate while balancing his own. Tommy happily starts eating what’s already on his plate halfway through the line, earning a jab in the side from his older brother. Once everyone’s gotten what they wanted, you all pile back outside to the deck to sit around and eat.

The table isn’t large enough for everyone, so it ends up being your parents, Chris, and Tommy sitting around it while you, Joel, and Sarah sit around the patio lounge set. Sarah happily sits on the ground at the coffee table, you slipping a cushion down for her to rest on before sitting in one of the chairs across from the couch.

Joel’s settled next to his daughter, facing you as he wipes his mouth with his napkin.

“So, uh, your dad said you’re going into your last year at TCU? What’re you studying?”

“Public Relations and Advertising. I’m hoping—”

“She wants to move to Boston!” Sarah interjects with a mouthful of hotdog bun.

Joel looks at her with a gently reprimanding look, “Bug, please don’t talk with your mouth full. ‘S not polite.”

He turns back to you after patting his daughter’s curls, lips curled up to one side.

“Boston, huh? What’s all the way up there?”

“Not here,” you laugh softly, shrugging your shoulders as you stab a piece of potato salad with your fork, “I love Austin, don’t get me wrong, but living here my whole life and going to school only three hours away in Fort Worth feels like I haven’t seen much outside of Texas. Plus, there’re some good agencies up there and it’s not as scary of a move like New York or Los Angeles would be.”

Joel nods in understanding, speaking up after he finishes a bite, “I get that. Haven’t lived anywhere but Austin my whole life, but I can understand wanting to experience new things.”

You might be imagining things, but you swear you can hear his voice drop deeper in the last half of his sentence. It sends a flutter between your legs, and the back of your neck burns with chagrin.

Conversation continues to flow easily between you and Joel, and Sarah, too. Your parents don’t ask you to help clean up because you’re so invested, laughing quietly at his subtle humor and smiling widely when Sarah adds in her commentary or tells a story.

Tommy and Chris join you all on the lounge furniture, falling into a wider group discussion of neighborhood politics and what fun things you and Chris got up to when you were around Sarah’s age.

Joel’s eyes stay trained on you whenever you're speaking, even glancing at you when you’re both listening to someone else. The eye contact from him stirs your stomach and hitches your breath, your own stare avoiding his when it gets a bit too intense.

Hours are consumed quickly, the twilight blue skies dimming your backyard so that only the porch and string lights illuminate the deck. Low light and the late hour have soothed Sarah to sleep, her small frame tucked into Joel’s side. He keeps a hand on her back while she rests, everyone looking at her tenderly.

Joel asks you and your mom if you know of any other neighbors with young kids that are going to the park district day camp for the summer, wondering if there’s a possibility to carpool or arrange some care for Sarah when he’s got a busy schedule.

Not knowing anything yourself since you don’t live here full time anymore, you turn to your mom and watch as the gears turn in her head, eyes lighting up with an idea.

“Actually, haven’t you been looking for a summer job, honey? Maybe you could nanny Sarah! Drop her off when Joel can’t, pick her up every day, and watch her until Joel gets home from work. That is, if you’d be interested in that, Joel.”

Your mouth opens and closes as you try to stutter out a response, feeling a bit flustered at your mom’s out-of-the-blue suggestion. Plus, you aren’t sure you could manage to work for your hot neighbor and to see him often; it was one thing to have a crush and pine freely from afar, but spending time in his house? Seeing him every day?

Your thighs press together as your mind races with thoughts about more of Joel in all aspects.

Being the ever-so-polite Southern daughter you were raised to be, you turn to Joel with a glittering smile and nod despite the stomach acid creeping up your throat with your nerves.

“I’d love to help out if you need it. Spending my summer with Sarah would be fun.”

At your confirmation of the offer, Joel pauses for a moment to look down at his sleeping daughter, heading swinging back to you with a boyish grin on his face.

“Guess that solves my problem then. Think you can start next week? Her first day is Wednesday.”

Arrangements are made with Joel as the Miller crew gets ready to leave, your own family have said their goodbyes and retiring inside to clean up after the night. Joel and you stand on the deck next to the stairs that lead to your side yard and over to their house. He shifts on his feet, passing Sarah from his arms to Tommy’s for his younger brother to get her home.

Joel’s arms stretch up briefly, giving you the slightest peek at the bottom of his stomach when his t-shirt lifts. Saliva floods your mouth as the thought of kissing there when you’re on your knees for him passes through your mind quickly.

Stop thinking about him like that. Yeah, he’s hot but he’s also now going to be employing you.

“Thanks again for offering to nanny, Sarah. She’s gonna be real excited when I tell her in the mornin’. You sure you don’t wanna take the out now?” His hands shoved into the front pockets of his jeans, a coy smile on his face.

“It’s really no problem at all. Like I said, I think it will be a fun summer.”

There’s no hidden meaning to your words, but for some reason Joel drops your stare after you speak, glancing down at his boots before he raises his head again, his smile a hint wider.

His drawl coats the words as he replies, “Well, it’s definitely gonna be somethin’, sweetheart.”

Joel turns on the heel of his boot, bounding down the short staircase and over toward his yard. He looks back once, a short wave raised towards you as he calls out a ‘goodnight’ to your frozen frame on your deck.

The front door of the Miller house clicks closed and you finally exhale the breath you didn’t realize you were holding in. Slow movements carry you inside and up to your room, flopping down to your bed on your back. One had rested on your stomach filled with butterflies, the other over your heart to feel the quickened rhythm.

Joel was right, this summer was definitely going to be something. And you were eager to find out what exactly it could be.

series taglist: @beskarandblasters @undrthelights @swiftispunk @joelsversion @clingontolife @elizabeth01585 @wandaandellie @asirenbyanyothername @ellenmunn @ja-ehyun @livinxdeadxgrl @sw33tp1xie @starsandsaints07 @marisemonteiroo @brunetteeras @whydontyoysaynodoja @beee-haw @shmaptainshmerica07 @jenna-mcgraw19 @whore-4-pedro @spursgirl14-blog @katifefe @joelmillerswifu @itsgiorgiaz @soph55 @grapejuicesny @wild-hearts-runfree @youcancallmeelle @lisa-ru @jupitren @ziggy-star @miaispunk @oneofutoo @starkovli @thatgeminigirlx @marchai @bunnyskisses @houseofballoonsth @casual-obsessions @pedro-pascal-lvr @bimbodolls-world @burningnerdchild @tuquoquebrute @mrsvedder12 @estelivi28 @helllsent @bongsrconfusing @addictedtotlou @brittmb115 @angie2274 @owod3 @pedrostories @pedroholicx @theelishad @johnwatsn

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iamasaddie · 5 months

Text

but, baby, it's cold outside

paring: Joel Miller x f!Reader rating: explicit (18+ minors DNI) word count: 3.3k~ summary: Joel enjoys his first white Christmas and helps you appreciate the cold.

warnings: sensory deprivation; temperature play; unprotected PinV; shitty puns; no use of y/n.

a/n: this is my late Chrismas present for @lunitawrites <3 Hope your holidays are great, and you enjoy my little gift!

MY MAIN MASTERLIST

“I can’t believe I let you do that to me, Joel Miller.”

You were walking through the snow to the cabin Joel rented for your holidays on AirBnB cursing the skies for letting that man take you here. It wasn’t like you wouldn’t have followed him anywhere, but you’d prefer ‘anywhere’ being much, much warmer. The man in front of you did not share your devastation. You don’t remember the last time your man was so excited about anything besides you. With snow almost being knee-high he still had spring in his step going further and creating a semblance of a path for you. You still managed to get snow in your uggs and when Joel looked at you over his shoulder you just gave him an irritated scowl. He chuckled, a cloud of breath escaping from his mouth as he took your hand and pulled you through the snowy trail.

“Come on, baby, white Christmas!” He threw his hands, pointing at the white expanses of snow. His cheeks were red from the cold, his beard and mustache covered in frost just around his mouth. “Just like Bing Crosby sang!”

You shook your head, unable to stay mad at Joel when his face lit up with a childish grin.

“I did everything in my power to never see snow again,” you still mumbled, “and it takes just one man to break that promise. I cannot believe it.”

You finally reached the porch of the cabin, and Joel turned around before opening the door and looked you in the eyes.

“Not just a man, baby," he grabbed the lapels of your winter coat and brought you closer to him. “A man you love.”

Admittedly, when his lips covered yours in a slow, gentle kiss, you forgot everything about being cold, and the wet sock didn’t bother you anymore. Kissing Joel was a sort of meditation for you, nothing existed when his lips were in yours. The world could collapse right beneath your feet, and you’d still be overtaken by the feeling of his hot wet tongue sliding inside your mouth, licking into you with passionate care and love. Just like he did right now. Your hands found his face, the snow from your mittens melting as soon as they got in contact with his skin. Joel scrunched his nose at the feeling, grabbing your lower lip between his teeth and pulling a little. Snowflakes melted on your noses as you stayed in each other's embrace, enjoying the warmth of the moment.

“Let’s go inside,” he finally whispered in your mouth, opening the door and grabbing your hand as he went inside.

You had to admit, the cabin was beautiful. The scent of pine almost made you forget the biting cold. The person renting it definitely had put in an effort. You noticed a modest Christmas tree in the corner, happy that you would have a place where to put your presents. The whole place looked festive with fairy lights and Christmas decorations, creating a cozy and welcoming atmosphere. You breathed lungs full of air and felt a sense of relief wash over you. Joel threw his backpack on the floor and you did the same.

“Do you like it?” He asked, with hope in his voice.

“Yeah,” you nodded genuinely, giving him another peck on the lips. “But we need to start a fire or I’m going to freeze to death.”

Of course the big fireplace wasn’t the only source of warmth in the house, yet it still took a long minute for the place to stop feeling like a cryocooler. You loved the domesticity of watching Joel make a fire. He went out a couple of times to bring enough logs to keep the fire going, and he never failed coming over where you were sprawled on the couch and shaking the snow from his hair on you. You wanted to get angry at the man, but it was impossible. His joy was disarming, and his mood started rubbing off on you.

When the fire was roaring and the wrapped presents found their place under the tree, Joel joined you on the couch, laying between your legs and resting his head on your chest. You were happy his hair had time to fully dry, a giant wet spot on your sweater would not help you keep the cheerful mood. You ran your fingers through the silken strands of brown and gray that now felt a little bit less soft. Joel almost started purring, his eyes half closed as his hands ran up and down your thighs with lazy strokes.

“So what’s with all the snow hating?” You were in silence for some time, so when Joel started speaking you almost jumped, having thought that the man had fallen asleep. "Don’t you find it romantic to have a white Christmas?”

Your hand in his hair stopped its ministrations for a moment, and you remembered the chills seeping through your skin and into your bones. The painful feeling when you froze so much that as soon as you entered a warm room it felt like you were pierced with a thousand needles. The constant greyness of the skies that were so dark no amount of lamps helped. You placed your chin on Joel’s head, mentally shaking the memories away.

“Joel, I grew up in a place that had snow six months out of twelve, sometimes I went a whole year without feeling an actual hot summer.” You had fond memories about your childhood home, but none of them were connected with winter. "Cold is terrible. No matter how much clothes you wear you’re still cold. And it’s uncomfortable. And it’s not sexy.”

“Not sexy?” Joel moved his head, craning it in an attempt to look at you and ask for further clarification. You chuckled at his confused look.

“Who would want to have sex when they’re freezing? It’s a terrible feeling.”

You genuinely thought there was nothing less arousing than having cold hands on any part of your body. It sounded more like torture to you, that cruel game your friend liked to play when they ran from the coldness of outside and tried to stick their hand under your shirt, merrily laughing at your scream. Joel hummed, but didn’t ask anything else, so you took it as a chance to ask your own questions.

“What about you?” You scratched the sensitive spot behind his ear gently, feeling goosebumps raise under your fingertips. “Why are you so excited to freeze your ass off?

“Baby, that’s the first snow I’ve seen in my life,” you heard a smile in his voice and felt your own lips stretch. "Well, not the first, but it’s the first time I’ve seen so much snow.” Joel lifted up from you a little, the space on your body that was heated by his warmth getting immediately cold. He turned his head to the left, looking outside where the winter’s darkness had already overtaken the daylight. Snow was slowly sticking to the window before melting into little drops of water. Joel was quiet for a moment, before turning to face you. "I am Texas born and raised, we don’t see snow unless it’s on TV.”

“It’s overrated.” You shrugged your shoulders.

“Nah,” the man shook his head, “you’re just used to it. But to me it's like… Imagine living deep underwater, only hearing the legends of this bright hot star called Sun, and then finally feeling its warmth on your skin.” You closed your eyes, soaking Joel’s words in. “I feel like I’m a kid again.”

You had never expected to hear those words from him, and when you opened your eyes you could almost swear something glistened in his eye. You placed your hand on his cheeks, the warm scruff tickling your palm, and Joel took a more comfortable position between your legs, placing them on his waist.

“Well then I’m glad we’re here,” you whispered honestly. “If you’re happy - I’m happy.”

Joel took your face in his hands, looking into your eyes for a long moment before pressing his lips - and body - into yours. With someone like Joel at your side it was hard to remember about the cold. Like the whole phenomena didn’t exist with the man who was currently running his giant palms over your body, sliding them under your sweater and tugging it up. You let him take it off, doing the same to his flannel. Your lips constantly crashed in kisses that became more and more desperate, the less clothes you had the stronger the urge became. You slid your palms up Joel’s broad chest, scratching the hot skin and letting your moans mix together. His hands worked your clothes with professional efficiency, leaving you naked in mere moments.

You grabbed at his jeans trying to reach for the zipper and force them off, but Joel’s hand stopped your attempts. You whined in protest and felt his nose tracing a trail from your cheekbone and lower until his lips met your neck.

“Do you trust me?” He bit on your neck, sucking the soft skin gently. You were almost out of breath, sometimes you felt like he knew your body better than you did, touching you exactly right in the places that sent fireboats through your skin.

“Of course,” you moaned, fisting his hair, but still unsure if you wanted to press him harder into your neck, or attack his mouth with yours. “Why?”

He let go of your sensitive neck, and you immediately wanted to shove him back, but he grabbed both of your hands in one of his, not letting you do that.

“Close your eyes and don’t open them.” He commanded. You furrowed your brows wondering if you heard him correctly.

“What?”

“Please, baby.” Joel looked at you intently, and you knew there wasn’t a thing you wouldn’t do for this man. When you closed your eyes, he placed a little kiss on the tip of your nose, whispering a quiet thank you and standing up from the couch.

Judging by the sound of it, he didn’t go far. You heard the rustling of wrapping paper, and in a moment felt Joel’s hand on the back of your head.

“Lift up your head a little.”

You obeyed without questions, letting Joel wrap something around your head, fully covering your eyes so that even the flickering Christmas lights weren’t able to get to you.

“You want me to be blindfolded? That’s it?” You were surprised, in the time that you were dating Joel never showed any interest in sensory deprivation besides tying or holding your hands. Quite the opposite, he had a habit of making you watch as he fucked you, sometimes dragging you to the bathroom with the sole purpose of spreading you out in front of the mirror. The blindfold was something new entirely, but you let yourself entertain the idea.

“Shhh, naughty girls don’t get presents.”

His voice was further than you expected, and you felt your naked body tense up. Straining your ears, you heard heavy footsteps that became more and more distant until the door banged.

“Joel?” You shouted in an empty house, not getting any response and getting seemingly frustrated. “Am I the contestant on ‘Naked and Afraid’?”

Distracted by your thoughts and blood already pumping through your heart harder than you were comfortable, you didn’t hear him come back. So when something cold and wet touched the heated skin of your chest you screamed, rushing to tug off your blindfold but being stopped by the hand you know intimately.

“Shh, baby,” Joel’s soothing voice made you stop panicking, “remember you told me you trusted me.”

You nodded, the want to scream at him for leaving you alone without warning slowly dissipating. You tried to will yourself to relax, succumbing to the feelings, tightened by the deprivation of visuals. There was something cold and wet, slowly trailing patterns on your skin, and it didn’t take you long to guess the origin of the mystery object.

When the path went from your collarbone and to your nipples you physically felt them harden, becoming more aware of every bit of sensation. The ice Joel circled around your areola started burning your skin, and just as you wanted to ask him to move, his lips enveloped your erect bud, laving at it with his tongue. The contrast of his scorching hot mouth on your cold skin made you arch your back, feeling arousal dripping down your ass. Joel did the same to your other nipple, biting it gently before letting it go. Your body was covered in goosebumps when he lifted his face from your skin, every wet spot felt cold and you tried to blindly find his face and press it back.

Joel gave you a small chuckle before returning the quickly melting bit of ice in contact with your skin. The contradicting sensation of hot and cold all over the sensitive parts of your body opened a new feeling of pleasure inside you. Your brain was foggy with want, body deliciously tortured by the man of your dreams that kept licking up the melted drops that traveled from your breasts and ribs into the dip of your belly button. You realized the last of it melted against your skin when Joel traveled lower, where you were dying for attention for the last hour. His lips were hot and wet with both melted ice and saliva, but when his fingers traced the burning skin of your pussy lips you gasped.

“Okay?”

He whispered his question, nosing your mound, and you let out some kind of agreeing noise because your brain refused to cooperate in full sentences or even words.

The feeling of two of his icy cold fingers spreading your lips and then entering your wet hole at the same time as his hot mouth kissed and licked on your clit almost made you cum on the spot. It was wild how two such opposite things came together in perfect balance to bring you to the heights of your pleasure. Behind the blindfold you rolled your eyes, arching your back off the couch, but feeling Joel’s other hand pressing on your stomach to bring you back. Your pussy violently contracted around his digits, warming them up until everything about him was liquid fire. His tongue circled your clit, dropping to your dripping entrance on every other stroke, licking around his own fingers that continued pleasuring you in steady pumps.

Joel knew exactly how to make you come. He learned the perfect curl of his fingers, the pressure on your clit, if there was a competition he would take every medal including the viewers choice. His fingertips continued punching your g-spot as his lips nipped on your labia. Your fingers found his hair, pressing his face harder in your pussy. The desperation in your movements made Joel moan before he finally sucked on your clit just as his fingers grazed that spongy part that brought you the most pleasure. You didn’t try to contain your scream when you came all around his fingers, and he hurried to replace them with his tongue, lapping at your entrance in an attempt to drink every drop of you.

When your body stopped shaking in the aftermath of your orgasm, Joel trailed his kisses up your body until he was once again seated between your legs. You felt the soft material of his boxers, apparently at some point he took off his jeans. His hard cock was pressing into your sensitive skin through the material, and you didn’t need to check twice to know it was soaked in his precum.

“Warm?” Joel covered his body with yours, leaving a dozen little kisses on your cheeks and jaw.

“Your fingers were too cold, I think my pussy’s frozen,” you complained jokingly, and he bit your chin.

“It’s okay,” his forehead pressed into yours, and then Joel whispered in your ear, “I got a hotcicle to warm it up.”

You bursted out in laughter, belly shaking with uncontrollable giggles. Joel was not the man who’d say shit like that, and that made the whole situation even more precious. The vulnerability that man let himself show you melted your heart like it was a snowball thrown in a fireplace. Your hands went to rip the blindfold off when Joel stopped you sitting up and grabbing your ankles practically folding you in half. Your giggles quickly died down when you felt the tip of his cock find your entrance.

“What’s so funny, baby?” He asked nonchalantly, like he wasn’t about to stuff your cunt full of his fat cock. Just as you were about to reply, he entered you in one swift motion, letting his heavy balls slap against your wet ass cheeks.

There was nothing that could get you off faster than the thick shaft of your man relentlessly pounding into you. The hotness radiated from his body even more and you felt a bead of sweat dropping on your lip. You hurried to lick it up, desperate to have more of him inside you. Joel grunted on top of you, the coarse hair above his cock teasing your oversensitive clit each time he buried himself inside you to the hilt. His broad shoulders didn’t let your legs drop as he made the best of the couch you were occupying. You felt his cock becoming even more stiff and hot inside you, thinking that it was impossible before but clearly being proven wrong. Joel’s lips found you in a semblance of a kiss, but it looked more like you were just licking each other’s mouths, tongues wet and sloppy dipping everywhere, pitting your lips and chins with saliva. His hips started stuttering, pace became more erratic, and you knew he was close. Joel traced his hand from your neck to your clit, pinching your nipple on the way. His weight was put onto his left hand as his right attacked your sensitive bundle of nerves. His thumb was sleek with all kinds of liquids, helping him stimulate your clit perfectly as he fastened his pace stretching your pussy perfectly.

“Come for me, baby, come on. Give it to me,” his voice was strained, on the verge of orgasm, and you could almost see the veins on his neck popping out, his chest red and sweaty. The image of your man on the brink of coming combined with unstoppable pleasure brought by his cock and fingers made you see all the Christmas lights with your eyes closed. Your mouth opened in a silent scream as your body continued convulsing with pleasure. Joel pulled out at the last moment, painting your puffy pussy lips with ropes of thick white cum.

His breathing was louder than the blood pumping in your ears, the sweat dripped down both of your bodies. You finally found strength to lift your hand, tugging the blindfold off and finding Joel sitting between your legs with a look. Of absolute love and adoration. His eyes followed two of your fingers as you trailed them in a slow path down to your soaked cunt. You swiped your digits through the cum covering your pussy and brought them back to your mouth to lick them clean with a deep moan.

“Mmm, my favorite frosting,” Joel looked at you in disbelief. “What? You’re not the only one who can come up with terrible Christmas puns.”

#iamasaddie fic #joel miller x reader #joel miller fanfiction #joel miller fic #joel miller x f!reader #joel miller x female reader #joel miller smut #the last of us fanfiction #tlou fanfiction #tlou fic

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mrwavellswaps · 9 months

Text

The Parental Solution - Loose Ends

(Make sure to read The Original Story first!)

I woke up to a sight I never imagined I’d see. My own dad sound asleep next to me in bed. A couple weeks it would’ve seemed insane. Sleeping in bed next to my dad who I could tell was naked just by how close we were under the sheets. Not that I could say anything since I was as well. I listened to him snore ever so slightly as I reflected on how the hell I’d even managed to get in this situation.

My best friend Jason took over my dad’s body using the potion I bought from a magic shop so he could get away from his terrible parents. Immediately after he picked up on my hidden crush for my dad and started teasing me about it all the time. Whispering dirty things in my ear using my dad’s raspy voice. Wear almost nothing around the house to show off his body to me whenever he could. And with everyday it got harder and harder to hide my growing lust for him. Finally he managed to tip me over the edge last night by sticking a hand into the bulge of his underwear before shoving that very same hand in my face moments later once it smelled deeply of my dad’s balls. After that I lost it and was sucking him off in the middle of the living room while he watched sports on TV as I finally gave in and started calling him Dad rather than Jason, even referring to him by my dad’s name Bryce from time to time. Then later in the evening, after he’d made me swallow his load and clean off his cock and balls, he made me service the rest of his body as well. That is until he’d recharged and decided to scoop me up before carrying me to his bedroom with a smug look on that stolen mature face of his.

Remembering what happened after that only made my ass throb more than it already did. My ‘Dad’ practically ripped open my clothes and tossed me onto the bed before drilling his dick into me in lord knows how many different positions for what felt like hours. All the while telling me how he was plowing me with the same dick that made me. I know I should’ve hated it but… I didn’t. I loved it. I loved every fucking second. And even as I looked over at him in bed with me, his morning wood pressing against the bed sheets, part of me wanted him to do it all again right then and there. Unfortunately I didn’t think my ass could handle another pounding just yet.

With a sigh I got up out of bed as quietly as possible to not wake my dad up. I tugged on some of my clothes from yesterday and made my way downstairs where I brewed myself a hot cup of coffee. I put some bread in the toaster and waited a couple minutes for it to pop out again before spreading some butter on it and digging in. Having some nice toast in the morning was certainly one way to try and distract myself from my painfully pulsing anus.

My attention however was then turned from my breakfast to a knocking at the door. It was a brisk but loud knock, as if made by someone that didn’t particularly want to be doing it. Regardless I set down made toast, wiped off my hands and marched towards the front door. I groggily opened up and of all the people I thought might’ve been knocking at our door, the man that I saw stood on the other side was the last person I could’ve imagined.

He was a middle aged albeit very handsome man. About average height with a sturdy body that’d definitely seen some time in the gym. He adorned a well trimmed salt and pepper haircut with a short beard that accentuated his somewhat thick mustache. But he wasn’t just any hot older daddy. He was Jason’s fucking dad!“Mr Simmons?”

“Ah. Aaron…” I could tell by the sour look on his face that he wasn’t exactly pleased to see me. “Is your father home? I’d like to speak to him.” He asked in a forcefully polite tone.

I had to stop myself from blushing at the mention of my own dad as my mind couldn’t help flashing back to last night. “Uhh yeah but he’s still in bed right now. Long day at work yesterday and what not…” I lied.

Mr Simmons sighed. “In that case I’ll ask you. It’s about my son. Jason.” He began and already I was trying even harder not to blush at the mention of my best friend turned father. “He’s been missing for over two weeks now and we haven’t found a single trace of him anywhere. It’s driving his mother and I mad. We’d begun to think the stupid boy had just ran off on his own until just the other day I was told someone saw him going into your house the night he disappeared. You wouldn’t know anything about that would you? Boy.” His tone turned threatening very fast.

“N-no. I have no idea where Jason is. All we did was hang out and then I thought he went home. I’ve got no idea where he is.” I expressed, clearly intimidated by the scouting man in front of me. Obviously it was another lie but what else could I say? Oh yeah sorry Mr Simmons but your son took over my dad’s body because you’re such an asshole and a terrible father? Yeah no. Unfortunately the older man didn’t seem pleased with my answer.

“Yeah? Well I think you know more about this than you’re telling me. I know you were the one always filling Jason’s head with all the queer bullshit. Trying to turn him into a faggot like you unlike the Christian man his mother and I have been raising him to be.” And there it was. One huge part of the reason Jason had hated his parents so much. On top of all the abuse and manipulation, they were also homophobic bible thumpers. I still remember Jason telling me how they’d always drag him to church while telling him he’d go to hell if he wasn’t straight and christian like they were. Apparently I was the only person he’d felt comfortable coming out to after all that. “You probably convinced him to run away with a bunch of those disgusting fairies didn’t you.” He continued to accuse, his fists balling up slightly.

I’d be lying if I said I didn’t feel extremely intimidated at that moment. “I already told you. I don’t know where Jason is! He didn’t tell me anything alright! If I did, I promise I would tell you.” Once again bending the truth quite significantly but it was all I could do. Thankfully he seemed to buy it for now.

“Fine.” He relaxed his shoulders slightly, no longer looking as though he was gonna beat the shit out of me. “But if I find out you had anything to do with this…” his scowl was more evident than ever as he poked his finger against my chest. “I’ll make sure your faggot ass gets sent to hell sooner than you think.” And with an angry snuff he backed away before turning to leave, prompting me to let out a huge sigh of relief. Thankful to still be in one piece.

Seconds later I heard a pair of heavy footsteps behind me followed by a familiar set of thick arms wrapping around me. “Who was that?” Bryce, my new and improved dad, asked as he kissed my neck.

“It was your asshole father.”

Bryce immediately looked up to see the man marching away from our house. His former father. Before he took over this body of course. “Jesus… sorry you had to deal with him.” He apologised to me. “Though, this might be weird of me to say but, Mr Simmons is pretty hot now I think about it.” He admitted, knowing I couldn’t exactly judge him for it all things considered. “He’s got a pretty nice ass don't ya think?” As he said that I could already feel his hard cock pressing up against my back.

Naturally I couldn’t help checking out the ass of that bible thumper, still being just close enough for me to get a good view of how well those jeans framed it. “I guess so… I mean he’d probably be super fucking hot if he wasn’t such homophobic piece of shit among other things.” As I’d already admitted to myself, the man was a total daddy stud just like my own dad.

“If only a body like that belonged to someone who actually deserved it…” He murmured in my ear with a grin.

Right away I knew exactly what he was implying. But could I do that?! I mean his dad has quite the reputation around here. Being revered by some of the more radical church goers in the community as the perfect example of what a man should be while being hated by most others for being a complete dickhead. Even a lot of other Christian’s around here didn’t like him for how much he screamed about how the rest of us are gonna go to hell or whatever. Especially when it comes to the LGBTQ community. It was honestly disgusting the way he acted most of the time, even towards his own son. Yet I couldn’t help but agree that because of all that… maybe he didn’t deserve such a hot body.

———

There was a jingle as the door to a familiar magic shop opened up. “So this is where you got that crazy potion from before huh?” Bryce asked as he walked inside first, myself following close behind him. He looked around marvelling at the well decorated shop as his eyes scanned across all sorts of items that would seemingly have some kind of magical property I hidden within them.

“Yup. This is the place. I thought it was all fake when I first came here.” I replied as we made our way towards the front desk. However, the man standing at the desk wasn’t the same guy who’d served me last time. He wore the same strange uniform as the other guy had but it was a slightly older looking man this time. I couldn’t put my finger on it but he had a very ‘high school teacher’ vibe about him with the silver flecked hair and the glasses.

He smiled and ushered us over. “Welcome sirs! What can I help you with!” He asked enthusiastically. “We’ve got all sorts of magical items on sale here. Some are even sample-able!”

At first I assumed this was just another dude that helped run the shop. That is until I saw his name tag. “Simon? The guy who helped me out last time I was here was named Gil. He mentioned you were his boyfriend. When I was here he took a potion that made him huge and hairy to prove the magic was real.” I laughed

“Oh so you’re the customer he did that for eh? If I remember correctly he told me you bought nectar of the bodysnacher. How was it? Get the body you wanted?” He asked curiously.

I shrugged and turned to my dad who was standing behind and motioned towards him. “I dunno you’re gonna have to ask him. He’s the one who used it.” I explained. “He’s actually my best friend Jason. Same age as me. But we used the nectar so he could take over my dad’s body. And if you ask me he’s a better dad than my old one ever was!” I smirked, having fully embraced having a horny dad that wanted to fuck me.

“Woah! Now that’s something.” Simon commented. “Good choice though if I may add.” His eyes ran up and down Bryce’s body. The muscled dad had decided to wear some of his tightest clothes to show off every inch of his form, leaving very little to the imagination when it came to the curves of his muscles and the bulge in his crotch area.

“So what about Gil?” I wondered. “Did that potion finally wear off?”

Simon chuckled a little. “Well… uhhh no actually. It should’ve worn off by now but I’m gonna be honest, I was obsessed with what that muscle bear potion did to him. He’s so thick now that hardly any of his clothes fit and the few that do are skin tight. He’s got that massive jiggling belly and such thick arms and legs. God don’t even get me started on his huge ass. And all that body hair just drives me crazy!” He went on a bit of tangent about every minor detail of Gil’s new bear bod. “Long story short, I might’ve begged him to some more temporary muscle bear potions to extend the effects of it.” He admitted with a slightly embarrassed look. “I was thinking of even asking him to take a permanent one that doesn’t have a time limit hahah…”

“God that sounds hot…” Bryce chirped in, his own stolen cock pressing tightly against his pants as he pictured everything this man was saying.

“Anyway. Sorry. That was slightly unprofessional of me to share all that.” Simon stood up a little straighter and attempted to hide his own boner. “Oh! And speak of the devil!” He added, looking past me and Bryce.

The pair of us turn to see a huge bear of a man appearing from behind one of the aisle. I recognised him right away as the same man that sold me that potion last time I was here. Gilgamesh! And just like Simon had said, that potion certainly hadn’t worn off. He was even now wearing the same clothes as last time except a much bigger size to accommodate his bigger body. He recognised me right away and came up to say hello.

“Hey what’s up! Is this your friend that you told me about?” Gil asked as his eyes scanned Bryce’s body just like Simon’s had.

“Yup! But now I’ve gotta call him Dad.” I went on to explain everything to Gil. Telling him all about how Bryce and I had snuck into my Dad’s room while he was asleep after getting Bryce to drink the nectar and putting a pair of my dad’s used socks. We even ended up telling him about how our relationship had progressed to… new depths since then.

“Well I’m glad to hear everything worked out for the two of you!” Gil said as he went in for a big bear hug. “Sorry. Side effect of the muscle bear potion. Makes me wanna bear hug everyone.” He apologised with a guffaw though I certainly didn’t mind being squeezed against his big belly. “Anyway, as much as I love seeing the aftermath of one of my sales, I get the feeling you’re here for something else.”

Bryce and I shared a glance. “Well you see. There’s a man that lives on our street. Total asshole. Harasses those who don’t go to church. Threatens innocent people that do things he doesn’t agree with. And treated his own son like dirt.” Bryce began using my dad’s gruff voice, knowing he used to be that son before everything changed for the better. “But the thing… despite all that he’s still hot as fuck.”

I took over from there. “So the two of us have decided that someone as horrible as him doesn’t deserve to have such an incredible body and that someone else should be given it instead. So we were hoping you might still have some of that bodysnachers nectar around here?” I wiggled my eyebrows a little at the man who’s name was displayed on the shop sign.

Gil smirked. “Ahhh I see. Well in that case we better go take a look.” He enthusiastically slung a big hairy arm over my shoulder before leading Bryce and I over to the very same aisle he’d taken me to last time. I could see out of the corner of my eye how Bryce was stopping here and there to read the labels and descriptions of certain items. My attention however was swiftly brought back to Gil as the burly man stopped in front of some rather empty looking shelves. “Ahhh yes. A large group of old men came here the other day and bought a bunch of bodysnatcher’s nectar in bulk. They were planning something about sneaking into a college frat house and taking over all the young jocks there I think. They wouldn’t stop talking about wanting to be young dumb and full of… well you get the idea.” He explained nonchalantly. Just the idea of that had me hard as fuck. “But if you’re lucky… there might just be…” Gil stuck his arm down the shelf and reached right towards the back until his meaty hand finally grabbed something. “One left at the back!” He he pulled out one last bodysnatcher’s nectar with a big cheesy grin before handing me the vial.

“Thanks so much Gil! I’ll promise I’ll put those to good use. You can count on that!” I reassured him. “How much do I owe ya again?” I reached into my pocket for some money but as I did the bigger man stopped me.

“It’s on the house this time.” He generously offered. “All I ask in return is that you come back again once you’ve taken your new body so my boyfriend and I can judge for ourselves just how hot this asshole really is.” Gil gave me a reassuring pat on the back. “Besides, judging by how interested your ‘Dad’ is in those spell books, I suspect the two of you’ll be bringing us some more business soon enough.” He gestured over towards Bryce who had his nose deep in one of said spell books.

———

“Do you remember where the spare key is?” I whispered, now stood outside Jason’s old house where both of his religious parents of course still lived. Bryce didn’t say a word. He simply reached up and into the hanging flower basket above my head before pulling out a key. “I’ll take that as a yes.” We discreetly unlocked the front door, trying to look as inconspicuous as possible as we slipped inside.

With how many times Jason had been to my house over the years, I’d never actually been to his. I gotta say though, it’s exactly what I’d imagined. Dull, muted colours. Mundane decorations and furniture. Crosses hung up on half the walls in the house. There was even a huge bible quote on one of the living room walls as if it were a live laugh love sign. And the awkward, blank faced family photos only made it weirder.

“Now you can see why I hated living here.” Bryce stated bluntly. He almost always acted like my dad to an extent but right now he couldn’t help remembering his old life before becoming a dilf and it wasn’t pleasant. “Let’s just get on with this. My parents' room is upstairs.” He hurried us along, ascending the steep staircase.

Before long he led us to a rather large and tidy bedroom. Freshly cleaned sheets, sparkling mirrors, not a single item of clothing lying around. If I had to give Jason’s parents something, they were definitely clean and organised. Not that it was much everything else considered. I didn’t let the cleanliness distract me from the reason we were here though. “So. Where’s your dad’s stuff?”

“Over here.” Bryce took us over to the left side of the bed. There he swiftly yanked open a few of the bedside drawers until he eventually pulled one open filled with men’s socks and underwear. “This is his. Grab something quick. It won’t be long before he’s back from work.”

I reached into the draw and quickly pulled out a pair of white socks with black stripes on them. “And you’re sure your mom isn’t gonna be with him or anything?”

He shook his head. “Nope. She works late on Monday’s. She shouldn’t be back till the late evening. We’ll have hours to do this before she even leaves work.” Bryce explained. “My dad on the other hand should be here any second so you’d better drink that magic stuff now.”

I didn’t argue. Right away I reached into my pocket and pulled out the vial. Nectar of the bodysnatcher. The very same stuff that’d given Bryce the more mature body he flaunted now. I twisted off the lid and without a second thought downed the entire thing. Right away I could feel something strange. It was the magic settling inside my body and waiting to be activated. Once that was done I kicked off my own shoes and socks before tugging on the clean socks belonging to none other than Nolan Simmons.

“Did you feel it?” Bryce asked.

“Feel what?”

“The spark. When you pulled the socks on?”

I had no idea what he was talking about. “Spark? What spark?”

He looked just as confused as me. “A couple weeks back when I pulled on your dad’s socks before taking his body, I felt a weird spark the moment I pulled them on. You’re saying you didn’t-” Bryce cut himself off as suddenly we heard the front door swing open and a familiar voice from downstairs muttering about how his stupid wife hadn’t locked the door before leaving this morning. Well if we needed any more proof that he was an asshole, there it was.

“Shit, shit. Quick! Hide!” I whispered in a panicked voice. We did exactly as we’d planned. Bryce quickly hid behind the bedroom door while I hid in the closet. I feel like there might’ve been some irony there but I was far more distracted by the sound of Mr Simmons’s angry footsteps ascending the stairs. As he did I could only hope everything went according to plan otherwise Bryce and I would probably end up in a jail cell.

Quickly the footsteps reached the top of the stairs before trudging down the hallway and towards the bedroom. Bryce readied himself. Another moment or two passed by and my heart practically skipped a beat when I saw the same man that’d been threatening me this morning enter the room through the cracks in the closet door. He seemed as though he was heading in my direction and immediately I began to think of what a man like that would do if he found me hiding in here. Luckily however, before he could reach the closet, Bryce came out from behind the door before quickly sneaking up on the man and grabbing him from behind without warning! Restraining the man he once called his father as best he could.

“W-WHAT THE!? GET YOUR HANDS OFF ME!” Mr Simmons shouted in a blaze of shock and panic. “LET GO OF ME YOU-GRAHH!” His protest was interrupted as James forced his former father to the ground. Nolan Simmons might’ve been strong but my dad was pretty strong in his own right. Strong enough to overpower Nolan in a surprise situation like this. “WHAT DO YOU THINK YOU’RE DOING!? WHO ARE YOU?!” He continued to scream and shout, not being able to get a proper look at the man that was holding him down.

“Stop struggling asshole. Just give in and soon you’ll feel soooo much better.” Bryce cooed into the protesting man’s ear.

Nolan's eyes went wide. He recognised that voice. The voice of a man he once had a close friendship with that was eventually ripped apart. All because their sons began hanging out and ‘encouraging each other to be queer’ as Nolan put it. “Hold on…Bryce??”

“You’re half right.” I cut the struggling man off as I stepped out from my hiding spot. “You know when you came to my house this morning asking about Jason? Well. I lied. I know exactly where your son is.” I took a few steps closer until I was stood looking down at the very same man that’d seemed so intimidating to me not so long ago. “He’s right there, holding you down.” I said bluntly, causing Mr Simmon’s face to twist in confusion. “I’ve gotta say he makes a much more loving father than you and my former dad combined.” I taunted.

The bible thumper could hardly believe or even understand what he was hearing so instead he resorted to throwing a slurry of homophobic slurs at the two of us. All the while trying in vain to kick his way out of Bryce’s grip. Usually hearing those kinds of hurtful words would’ve pissed both of us off but right now, knowing what was to come for this man, we couldn’t help but pity him. Even if he didn’t deserve it.

“Lift him up a little for me would you dad?. I’ve gotta kiss him to activate the magic, remember?” I asked.

Bryce smirked, adjusting his position a little before carefully maneuvering himself and the other man until Nolan was on his knees with his arms restrained and his ankles pinned. Unable to move. “How’s that?”

“Perfect.” I said while getting a better look at the body before me. That handsome face that seemed so masculine yet somewhat adorable at the same time. Those pecs pressing tightly against his shirt. That noticeable bulge in his work pants. And so sooo much more. And Nolan didn’t deserve a single bit of it. But I did. Then much to the man’s disgust, I stripped off all my clothes in a blink of an eye leaving only the pair of stolen socks on my feet. Standing proud with a victorious look on my face as I let my average dick swing free infront a homophobe.

Part of me wanted to bask in the moment a little more but I was far too eager to get this underway. And so I quickly got down onto my knees and before Nolan could do anything to stop me, I pressed my lips hard against his. He tried to recoil but he couldn’t go far. I had him… or at least I thought I did. I kissed him for a good 10 seconds or so and nothing happened to the point where I eventually found myself pulling away.

“W-what?” I muttered, not understanding why it hadn’t worked. At the same time Nolan took the opportunity to spit at me and shout even more slurs. Even angrier than before as he called us before disgusting perverts. I asked Bryce and he didn’t seem to have any idea either… that is until I remembered what he’d said earlier just after I’d pulled on the socks. “Wait… no spark.” I mumbled. That’s when it hit me. Step 2 of getting the nectar to work was wearing a recently worn article of clothing. These socks were washed and put away unlike the dirty pair of socks Bryce used when he took over my Dad.

“What is it Aaron?! Why didn’t it work?” Bryce asked, starting to get a little worried as they didn’t really have a backup plan.

“I think I know.” I pulled off the fresh socks I’d stolen before walking around and behind to two men. “Just keep him still. I’m gonna try something.” I crouched down and shuffled between Bryce’s legs a little until I had easy access to Nolan’s large brown loafers. Against his wishes I slipped his shoes off and put them to one side, finding it hard to ignore the strong scent that came with them. Unleashing those large socked feet. “If these don’t work then nothing will.” I stated before gripping the sweaty black socks and pulling them off Nolan’s feet one at a time. And I knew I probably shouldn’t since I criticised Bryce for doing it before but I couldn’t help giving the pungent socks a quick sniff. With that I made my way back around in front of them.

“What!? You wanna huff on my socks now you disgusting cock sucker!?!” Nolan yelled.

I took the large pair of socks and began tugging them on. “Oh I want a whole lot more than that.” Just then, as I pulled the second sock on, I felt it. The spark. Coursing through my body. My confidence that’d been wavering momentarily then rushed back in full stride. “I want to touch, smell and see your body wherever I go. I want to turn your homophobic ass into homo this side of the earth. I want… you.” There was an almost crazed look in my eyes that even spooked Bryce a little as I grabbed the sides of Nolan’s head. “And now. You’re going to be all mine.” And with that I slammed my lips against his with even more passion than before. Feeling his thick mustache forced to rub against my upper lips while he groaned in protest through the kiss, unable to stop me.

His groans of protest would quickly turn to grunts of fears as the magic began to activate. It seemed all I needed was a more recently worn pair of socks as now our lips were stuck together and impossible to part. Seeing that the process had begun, Bryce let go of his father and the first thing the panicking man tried to do was pull away from me. But to no avail. Because of this Nolan began freaking out! Forcing both of us up to our feet before stumbling around the room. For a second Bryce looked as though he was about to step in again until I used all my strength to push Nolan onto the bed causing him to fall back onto the soft sheets with my naked body on top of him. And before he had another chance to move I wrapped my arms and legs around him tight.

Nolan made every effort to break free but I’d latched on tight and wasn’t about to let go. Before he could fight against me any further though, the most delightful sensation imaginable passed over my entire being causing me to let out an involuntary moan into the kiss. And to my surprise Nolan made a similar groan. His eyes had begun to roll back slightly as I could only imagine a similar sensation had overtaken him. If anything he must’ve been in even more ecstasy than I was judging by how his thick rod had begun to harden in his pants, causing his bulge to rub up against me. But through all the grunts and groans I could tell he still wanted to fight but the pleasure that ran through him was draining any strength he might’ve had to fight back against me. Before long Nolan's body couldn’t help but give in to me and before long, the next phase was underway.

It’d been one thing seeing Jason disappear inside my dad’s body but actually feeling my own body and limbs begin to get sucked inside Nolan’s large muscular frame was something else entirely! My hands were one of the first things to go, phasing through his shirt and into his back as I still had my arms wrapped around him. My legs then began naturally aligning themselves with Nolan’s bulky ones before slowly sinking in. The feeling was beyond anything I’d ever imagined. Even as my torso began to lower itself into the older man’s frame, there wasn’t even an ounce of pain. Nothing but pure bliss as my entire form went completely numb! I rubbed my crotch against his as much as I possibly could before that too phased through the man’s pants and was pulled down into his body.

Soon enough my arms, legs, ass and cock had all disappeared, pulled inside Nolan’s body much to his distain. Honestly I was surprised he hadn’t gone delirious from the raw amount of satisfaction the magic seemed to bring. Yet somehow he regained some semblance of awareness only to be horrified seeing my torso sinking into his. He practically screamed into the kiss as our eyes were forced to meet. His eyes were darting all over frantically, trying to move his body but feeling too weak to do anything. It was too late anyway as I could feel my face drawing nearer to his as even that was being pulled down at last along with the rest of my head. Before long my vision completely blanked out…

After that Nolan regained full control of his body to an extent. “N-NO! Get out of meeee! Gahhhh!…” he yelled and grunted, feeling my presence inside of his body. But despite his best efforts he couldn’t fight against me nor could he stop his cock from getting unbearably hard. He practically begged Bryce to help him but the idle man did nothing but watch in satisfaction, finally getting to see his horrible father get exactly what he deserved. “Y-you’re demons! Both of you! Unholy demons!!” He claimed while writhing around on the bed, struggling to control himself. He tried to get up from the bed but his cock pulsed even harder, threatening to burst out of his pants at any moment. His balls swelling up fatter than ever before as they prepared to unload every ounce of his free will. “Nooooo… I can’t… I-Urrghhh…” He grabbed at his crotch uncontrollably, mouth hanging open with the overflow of stimulation being forced through it until finally… “FUUUUCKKKKK GRAHHHHHhhhhhhhuuuhh…” What started as a massive roar of protest slowly faded as Nolan blew the fattest load of his life. A massive dark spot forming over his bulge as he flooded his pants with cum.

The second Nolan spilled his ball batter, I found myself being hurled into the driver’s seat. Right away I was hit with the tail end of the orgasm and couldn’t help grinning. Feeling my new fat cock buck as it squirted a few final ropes of dad nut into my already sticky pants. “Ohh yeahhhhh…” I let out a huge sigh of relief knowing that I’d won. Even as the cum soaked into my new work pants, I could feel Nolan soul being absorbed by my own. Feeling every memory and personality trait of his slowly became accessible to me as I became the one and only Nolan Simmons.

“How do you feel Nolan?” Bryce moved closer towards the bed, knowing now that the man he’d once hated was gone for good. Replaced by someone far superior. Me.

I grumbled a little, holding my head before slowly sitting up. I glanced down at myself, seeing the thick muscle I now adorned still hidden underneath Nolan’s clothes. I even had on the same black socks that I’d stolen from him again. Back on the feet they were meant for. I flexed my arms a little, feeling my biceps strain against my shirt before bringing my hands to my chest so I could feel juicy pecs that sat upon it. God feeling this kind of bulk on another man was one thing but feeling it on myself was a whole other level of euphoric. Feeling the power that now flowed through my bigger and stronger body with every movement I made. “I feel fucking fantastic Bryce.” I replied while running a hand over my wet bulge.

Slowly I pushed myself up off the bed, my new larger feet touching the ground for the first time. I wobbled a little at first, not used to my new weight, but I quickly adjusted. Bryce simply stood back and allowed me to explore myself for a moment. Watching on as I made my way towards the circular mirror sat on the dresser. And what I saw made me feel a whole flurry of emotions. Staring back at me was the same handsome face that’d been screaming obscenities at us not moments prior. The piercing eyes belonging to the homophobe that made Jason’s life a living hell for so many years. The salt and pepper hair along with this beard and mustache that were trademarks of a man that embodied all the worst parts of the christian community. But I was none of those things. I might’ve stolen his dashing looks and gorgeous body but I was a proud gay man and an ally to all others in the LGBTQ community. Something the old Nolan would’ve despised being. But what he wanted didn’t matter because I was Nolan now and I plan on putting a hot ass body like this to far better use.

Not being able to resist the temptation, I pulled off my new shirt before tossing it at Bryce so I could finally get a better look at what I was working with and I certainly wasn’t disappointed. Though he kept in very good shape, the old Nolan wasn’t one to show off his physique all that often so I’d never had the luxury of seeing him shirtless before. But if anything that only made this moment sweeter as I freed my new pecs from their prison and began groping them to my hearts content. Adoring how squishy they were but so firm when I flexed them. Admiring the dusting of chest hair that spread across them. I was only able to pull my hands away from my chest when the desire to flex my biceps again grew too strong to ignore.

Once I was satisfied with the admiration I’d given to my broad upper body (for now), my gaze couldn’t help shifting towards my lower half. A toothy grin spread across my face that seemed extremely out of character for this face as I unhooked my belt and undid pants. I could feel Bryce's eyes watching intently and I yanked down both my pants and cum soaked underwear at the same time, allowing my still half hard cock to spring out. And what a cock it was. It’s length was about average sitting at around 6 inches but god the girth! It was one of the thickest chicks I’d ever seen from the base all the way up to its fat mushroom head which was still drooling cum. And it was mine along with the heavy set of balls that came with it. No wonder Nolan always acted like a hard ass with a pair of bull nuts this big to inflate his ego.

I went on to admire my legs a little after getting over the initial shock that came with my new still twitching dick. Running my hands along my sizeable quads before giving my bulky calves a squeeze. But by far what stole the show was my hot muscle dad ass. We’d already gotten a good idea of how big it was by how its shape was still visible even through some of Nolan’s baggiest pants. But now we got the full show. Nolan’s thick cheeks on full display. And naturally it didn’t take long for me to start squeezing and jiggling them to your delight. Though, considering how the rest of my body had a decent coating of hair, I was surprised to feel how smooth my new ass was.

“You havin fun over there…” Bryce commented, prompting me to turn my attention to him for a moment. When I did I noticed he’d at some point whipped out his own dick as was slowly jerking it to the display I’d been putting on. I guess deep down we were both hot for daddy. Our own daddies at that.

“I’ll be having even more fun when I get this tight virgin hole of mine stretched.” I paced over towards Bryce, giving him a truly affectionate look that he doubt he’d ever seen on his fathers face before. “So how’s about you get in the bed and get your cock ready for me.” I commanded, allowing Nolan’s somewhat dominant nature to seep through.

I didn't need to ask him twice. In a flash Bryce was completely naked, showing off his hairy body once again, before practicing leaping onto the bed with his hands behind his head and his cock standing tall and ready. Now this was a sight. Two best friends stealing the body of each other’s dad only to wanna fuck one another immediately after. In Nolan’s case I suppose it was somewhat poetic justice for everything that he did and said. But it didn’t really matter because the only Nolan left around here was me.

With a lustful smirk I sauntered my way towards the bed before crawling on top of Bryce. Allowing my brand new dad ass to hover gently above his cock as we stared into each other’s eyes. Completely lost in the fantasy of it all until I lent down and pushed my lips against his. It was probably the first time these lips had ever kissed another man willingly but it certainly wouldn’t be the last as I felt our beards gently rubbing together while our kiss deepened. As it did I slowly lowered my ass until Bryce’s throbbing cock was massaging my entrance.

It was then that I broke the kiss and pinned Bryce down with my newfound strength. “Now. I’d say it’s about time we use that big dad dick of yours son to fill your old man’s needy hole.” I sneered down at him, letting him know exactly how I felt all those times he used my dad’s voice to call me son. And by the way his dick began lathering my ass with precum moments later, I could only assume he enjoyed it. However I didn’t let him waste too much of his precious seed before reaching back and grabbing his cock, aligning it perfectly with my hole. “Now gimme that dick!” I roared before lowering myself onto the rod with a deep and guttural moan.

Right away I got to work. Bouncing up and down on that dick as best I could while holding Bryce down. It was intense to say the least. With an asshole this tight I’d be lying if I said it wasn’t quite painful at first but I was willing to push through it if it meant being able to take cock even better with this formerly straight christian ass in the future. At times I moaned my own dad’s name, Bryce, while at other times moaning his original name, Jason, in an attempt to fulfil both our fantasies at once. But as I was slowly able to force more and more of his dick inside me, I eventually stopped calling him Jason all together and decided just to stick to Bryce. Because that’s who he was now. My boyfriend Bryce. Another dad that lives across the street from me. Nolan. A former homophobe turned gay power bottom. Aaron and Jason were simply the names of our two sons who ran off together and memories of them would soon fade into obscurity.

At multiple points I could tell Bryce was eager to flip up over and do the fucking himself but I refused to let him. I might’ve been the one getting fucked here but I was still the one in charge. Whether he liked it or not he was gonna stay put and be my personal fuck pole until I was nice and full. And between all the kissing, touching and dirty talking, I could tell that time was starting to grow near. His balls prepared themselves for the tsunami that was bound to come at this rate.

Feeling this only served to drive me further onwards. Making sure to grind my thick dad butt all the way down to the base. Honestly I didn’t think I’d be able to do it on this body’s first time taking dick but lo and behold I pulled it off. It was painful but boy, just the feeling of filling this new ass of mine completely with cock released an almost incomparable amount of dopamine in my brain. The only thoughts running through my mind were ‘dick’ and ‘cum’ as the levels of joy I was feeling almost matched the pleasure I got from hearing Bryce’s moans echoing through the household. Moans that only continued to get louder and needier until finally I got exactly what I wanted.

The man below me tensed up as his cock began to spasm inside me. I didn’t need three guesses to know what that meant. Especially when I felt his thick hot seed coating my insides while I drained Bryce’s balls to the last drop. Watching as he writhed in pleasure beneath me while unloading buckets worth of cum inside. Seeing his hands grip the bed sheets as his former father pressed his ass down on it a couple more times. Continuing to bounce on his cock until he begged me to stop due to how sensitive it was. Eventually, when I felt as though his cock had nothing left to give me, I adhered to his pleas and released his cock from my asshole’s tight grip.

“Better get used to that babe. From now on I plan on making you drain at least one load into me everyday. This new ass of mine is hungry.” I grinned deviously at him before kissing along his neck, feeling my new mustache rub against his skin. “Your dad was wasting it for so long so I’m gonna make up for all the years he neglected this beautiful ass.” My face moved closer to the hairy pit under his arm. “Mmmm now it’s time for papa to get a good taste of that!” I stated before shoving my nose deep into one of his sweaty armpits and inhaling the gorgeous post sex scent they exuded. I couldn’t help but notice how they smelt subtly different now that I was sniffing them with a different nose. Regardless, they still smelt just delicious. So much so that before long I was running my tongue along his pits greedily to lap up the sweat.

“Do you think… we should head back… to my place before… your wife gets home.” Bryce said between labored breaths.

“I suppose so.” I agreed. “Let me just finish cleaning off your pits. Then we can grab some of my clothes and get out of here.” I added before lapping up more of that delicious salty sweat his hairy pits produced.

———

It’d been roughly three weeks since that day. After we left Nolan's house that day, we hardly ever went back. We took everything of Nolan’s that I might need and brought them back to our place where we stayed after that. Of course my new Wife was furious when I said I was leaving her for Bryce but there wasn’t shit she could do about it. I even told her all about the furious gay sex we had and how he satisfied me more than she ever could by filling me up with cum. It might sound harsh but she wasn’t much better of a parent than the old Nolan so it was karma really. After that she was quick to file for a divorce which I was happy to sign upon being given the papers.

Now Bryce and I live happily together. We both worked pretty much the same jobs our dad’s did before which wasn’t all that hard with their memories. We even went to the gym together which was incredibly fun. However the best part was always getting home and taking off our sweaty clothes so we could swap 'em and sniff each other’s damp, pungent gym clothes. While I usually went for the pouch on his underwear first, my ass sweat must’ve smelt particularly good to him as he always went for the back of my underwear first.

This was then almost always followed up by some hot steamy dad sex. I would always make him bust a load in my hole first but if the prostate stimulation wasn’t enough to make me blow my own nut then we’d flip and I’d fuck his ass relentlessly until he was just as full of cum as I was. Regardless it would seem the power dynamic there had certainly shifted in my favour which I wasn’t gonna complain about.

Besides that however we were already living happier lives than we ever had before. The only bad thing about it all was all the questions people would ask and the odd looks thrown our way for this sudden change in our behaviour. Because of this I suggested to Bryce about looking for a new place to start our lives fresh elsewhere. Somewhere that we wouldn’t already be known by the community. Somewhere we can just be Bryce and Nolan, the hot horny couple of dad’s in the neighborhood. Bryce seemed to like that idea so now we’re looking online for places to move to.

The only hiccup in that plan was that we didn’t want to move too far from Gil’s magic shop. We went back after I became Nolan and Gil himself seemed very impressed with the new form I’d taken. After explaining our moving situation however, he told us not to worry about it. Apparently there were a bunch more Gil’s magic shops all around the world. According to him all of them are connected and every single one has a door portal that brings them to the same place. So regardless of where we move we’ll likely still be able to visit. As confusing as that was, I kinda understood.

With that though, Bryce and I were just excited to begin this new chapter together. And perhaps even spice things up from time to time by purchasing a few more items from Gil’s shop. Regardless I was sure that from this point on, our lives were going to be perfect…

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#magic #permanent #male body theft #identity theft #age progression #absorption #hairy #dad #straight to gay #mental change #revenge #sweaty men #smelly

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