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winxanity-ii · 3 months ago

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DAMNED DEVOTION [3/3]

ship: father charlie x fem!nun!reader warnings: nsfw 🔞 ( m. receiving oral/handjob; fem. receiving oral; p in v; overstimulation; creampie, wrap before you tap kiddos; breeding kink; degradation/praise kink; coercion/dub-con?; sacrilege, heavy religious imagery ) word count: 5.4k a/n: ahhh, i can't believe i finally finished the final part to this little 'devotion' piece. to thank you all for following along with this series i may have gone a little filthy 😅 also, don't know if you guys care to know, but it's my twin (@k-nayee) and i's 20th birthday today, wheeewwww 🎉🥳! i'll see you all in the next update, and don't be afraid to shoot an ask/request or check out my other works! this is a continuation of my previous one-shotS, '𝐒𝐀𝐂𝐑𝐈𝐋𝐄𝐆𝐈𝐎𝐔𝐒 𝐃𝐄𝐕𝐎𝐓𝐈𝐎𝐍' and '𝐒𝐈𝐍𝐒 𝐎𝐅 𝐃𝐄𝐕𝐎𝐓𝐈𝐎𝐍.' If you haven't read those yet, I recommend starting there to understand the progression of their relationship….

★·.·´ɢʀᴏᴛᴇsǫᴜᴇʀɪᴇ ��‌🇦‌🇸‌🇹‌🇪‌🇷‌🇱‌🇮‌🇸‌🇹‌`·.·★

It was a bright afternoon, the sun hanging high in the sky, its rays filtering through the branches of the old oak tree that stood at the edge of the courtyard. The air smelled fresh, filled with the scent of blooming flowers and the distant murmur of conversation.

A group of young nuns-in-training, dressed in their modest habits, sat on the grass, their voices soft with laughter. You were among them, sitting with your legs tucked beneath you, your Bible open in your lap, a pencil in your hand as you made notes from the earlier service.

The warmth of the sun on your skin made you feel content, almost peaceful, and you were momentarily lost in thought, the words on the page blurring slightly as your mind wandered.

"Sister ____!" a voice called, breaking through your concentration.

You looked up, startled, to see one of the younger nuns smiling at you, her eyes bright with curiosity. She had a round face, still clinging to the softness of her youth, her cheeks flushed from the sun. Her name was Sister Olive, and she was always one of the more talkative ones, her energy infectious among the group.

"Yes?" you replied, giving her a gentle smile. The group of nuns-in-training giggled amongst themselves, their eyes flickering between you and something—or rather someone—further down the courtyard path.

You followed their gaze and saw Father Charlie walking alongside another priest, his expression focused, his hands clasped behind his back.

The sun seemed to catch on his features, highlighting the strong line of his jaw, the soft waves of his hair. He looked every bit the holy man, yet there was an undeniable handsomeness to him, something that drew eyes wherever he went.

Sister Olive leaned forward, her voice dropping to a conspiratorial whisper, her eyes twinkling with mischief. "Sister ____, does Father Charlie have a wife?"

Your brows furrowed slightly, confused by the question. "Pardon?" you asked, blinking as you looked back at her.

The group broke into another fit of giggles, Sister Olive glancing towards Father Charlie again before continuing. "I heard that priests can be married if they were married before being ordained..." she trailed off, her tone curious, her gaze turning back to you. "I just wondered if Father Charlie was ever married. He seems like he could be, doesn't he?"

You felt heat rise to your cheeks at the implication, and you quickly shook your head, trying to keep your voice steady. "No, Sister Olive, he isn't married," you answered, your tone soft but firm.

The young nuns exchanged glances, and another wave of giggles spread through the group, their laughter light and full of the innocence of youth.

Sister Olive sighed dramatically, her eyes sparkling with amusement. "Ah, I thought so. He's too serious to have a wife, don't you think? But still... he's quite handsome."

You swallowed, glancing back towards Father Charlie, who was now nearing the edge of the courtyard, his eyes scanning the area as if searching for something—or someone.

You quickly looked away, your heart fluttering in your chest, a strange mixture of emotions churning within you. You knew you shouldn't think of him in that way, shouldn't let the words of the younger nuns affect you, but it was impossible not to.

The memory of his touch, his voice, the way he had looked at you in the confessional—it all came rushing back, making your pulse quicken, your hands trembling slightly as you closed your Bible.

A second later, a shadow fell over the group; the young nuns quickly quieted, their giggles turning into soft murmurs. Looking up, you saw Father Charlie standing before you, a small, knowing grin on his lips.

His eyes locked onto yours, an intensity in his gaze that made your breath catch. He gave a short, polite bow of his head. "Good morning, Sister ____," he said, his voice smooth, almost gentle, before his gaze shifted to the rest of the group. "Good morning, sisters."

The young nuns responded in unison, their voices a mix of giggles and greetings. You looked down at your Bible, mumbling a quiet, "Good morning, Father Charlie," along with the others, your face heating up under his watchful eyes.

You thought that was the end of it, that he would move on and let you be, but then he spoke again, his voice calling your name.

"Sister ____," he said, his tone still polite, but there was something in it that made your heart skip a beat. "I was hoping I could have your assistance with preparing for next week's sermon. I need some help organizing the notes and scriptures. Would you be able to spare a moment?"

You felt your heart race, already knowing that this was a lie, that his request had little to do with the sermon and everything to do with the tension that lingered between you.

Clearing your throat, you forced a smile, nodding as you closed your Bible and rose to your feet. "Of course, Father," you replied, turning to the young nuns. "I'll see you all later."

They nodded, their eyes wide with curiosity as they watched you walk away with Father Charlie. He led you across the courtyard, his pace measured, his hands clasped behind his back.

You followed him in silence, your heart pounding, your mind racing with a mix of anticipation and fear.

He brought you to the sacristy—a room in the church where sacred objects and vestments were kept and prepared for use during rituals.

The room was medium-sized, its thick concrete walls lined with shelves that held ornate chalices, gilded candlesticks, and other sacred items. A large wooden table stood in the center, covered with cloth and a few open books, the sunlight streaming through the small window, casting a warm glow over the space.

The air smelled faintly of incense, the scent comforting yet heavy, reminding you of the solemnity of the church.

You turned around just in time to see Father Charlie shut the door, the soft click of the lock echoing in the quiet room.

Your heart skipped a beat, your breath catching in your throat as he turned back to you, his eyes dark, filled with something you couldn't quite name—something that made your pulse quicken, your hands trembling slightly at your sides.

You swallowed, trying to steady yourself, and turned back around, your eyes roaming over the various sacred objects lining the shelves. You busied yourself by adjusting the cloth on the table, pretending to study the items, anything to keep yourself distracted from the tension filling the room.

You could feel him behind you, his presence heavy, the air thick with something unspoken.

A shudder ran through you as you felt his hands on your shoulders, his fingers rubbing gently against the fabric of your habit, caressing your shoulders with a slow, deliberate touch. You closed your eyes, trying to suppress the tremble that ran through your body, your breath catching in your throat.

"F-Father Charlie..." you began, your voice barely above a whisper, your heart pounding in your chest.

Before you could say anything more, he spun you around, his hands firm on your shoulders. His eyes were intense, dark, filled with a hunger that made your knees weak. His face was inches from yours, and you could see the way his pupils were blown wide; his lips parted slightly as he looked at you.

"Shhh," he murmured, one of his hands moving up to cup your face, his thumb brushing softly against your cheek. His touch was gentle, almost tender, but there was an intensity behind it that made your heart race. His gaze bore into yours, and for a moment, you felt like you were caught, trapped in the depth of his eyes, unable to look away.

You took a shaky step back, your eyes dropping to the floor as you tried to gather your thoughts. You turned away from him, your hands gripping the edge of the table, your knuckles white as you spoke, your voice trembling. "Father, I... I find myself at war. What we... what we have, it's wrong. It's against everything we believe in, everything we stand for. I can't... we can't keep doing this."

You heard him let out a soft, frustrated sigh, and a second later, his hands were on you again, spinning you around to face him. There was a tension in his jaw; his eyes narrowed slightly, frustration evident in the way he looked at you.

"No," he said, his voice firm, his gaze intense as he held you in place. "No, Sister. You're wrong. This... what we have, it's not wrong. It's not some sin that we need to be ashamed of." His voice softened slightly, his eyes searching yours. "Do you think the love between Jesus and Mary Magdalene was wrong? Do you think He loved her any less because of who she was? Love is not something to be condemned, not when it's real... not when it consumes you the way this consumes me."

His voice dropped lower, almost a groan, his eyes darkening as he stepped closer, his chest brushing against yours. "You have no idea what you do to me. The way you look at me, the way you move, the way you speak—it's made me delirious. I can't think of anything else but you; I can't focus on anything but this need, this hunger for you. You've taken hold of me, body and soul, and I can't... I can't let you go."

His words sent a shiver down your spine, your cheeks flushing at the intensity of his gaze, the raw need in his voice. You could feel your resolve crumbling, the conflict within you fading beneath the weight of his confession, the depth of his longing.

"Please," he whispered, his voice breaking slightly, a desperate edge to his words. "Please, just let me have you, one last time. If you're sure—if you really mean it, I'll let you go. But please... just one more time."

A soft, almost mousy, "Okay," left your lips before you could stop yourself, the word barely audible, but it was all he needed.

In an instant, he was on you, his lips crashing against yours, his hands pulling you close, his fingers digging into your waist as he kissed you with a hunger that took your breath away.

Your steps staggered back, your body unsteady as he moved with you, following you, his lips never leaving yours. Your back hit the edge of the table, and he pressed against you, his body warm, his touch insistent, his kiss deepening as his tongue slipped into your mouth, coaxing a soft moan from your throat.

His hands moved to your hips, lifting you slightly as he guided you onto the table, his lips trailing down your neck, his breath hot against your skin. You could feel the intensity of his need, the way his body pressed against yours, his hands exploring, claiming, as if he couldn't get enough of you.

His fingers were frantic as they pushed up your habit, his touch rough, almost desperate. His lips never left your skin, trailing hot, open-mouthed kisses down your collarbone, across your chest.

You could feel his breath coming in quick, shallow bursts, his need evident in every hurried movement, every touch. He kissed you deeply, his tongue sliding against yours, swallowing your soft moans as his hands moved beneath the fabric, lifting it higher, his touch hot against your bare skin.

You gasped when he dropped to his knees before you, his lips brushing against your inner thigh, his hands holding your legs apart. Just as he was about to continue, you panicked slightly, your hands flying to his shoulders, gripping them tightly. "W-Wait," you stuttered, your voice shaky, your heart pounding in your chest.

Charlie looked up at you, his gaze questioning, his breath hot against your thighs. His eyes were dark, filled with desire, and his lips were parted, his chest rising and falling with each breath.

You swallowed, licking your lips nervously as you avoided his gaze, your fingers still gripping his shoulders. "I... you always... I mean, you always... please me with your mouth," you stammered, your face growing hot, your voice barely above a whisper. "I-I was wondering if... if I could... return the favor?"

Your words were awkward, your innocence clear in the way you spoke, the way your eyes flickered everywhere but at him. You cleared your throat, trying to steady yourself, your voice going quiet. "I mean... if you want, Father..." You finally forced yourself to meet his gaze, your eyes wide, nervous, and hopeful.

For a moment, there was silence between the two of you, the air thick with tension. You began to worry that you had said something wrong, that you had crossed some line, but then Charlie let out a low groan, his hands tightening on your thighs, his head dropping against them. He muttered something, his voice muffled, and you barely caught the words, "Are you truly an angel, or a devil sent to test me?"

He stood slowly, his hands sliding up your thighs as he rose, his eyes never leaving yours. When he reached you, he cupped your face, pulling you into a deep, lingering kiss. His lips moved slowly against yours, his tongue teasing, tasting, and when he finally pulled away, he left a soft peck against your lips. His eyes were softer now, the intensity replaced with something gentler, his thumb brushing across your bottom lip, his touch tender.

Then, his expression shifted, his eyes darkening, a low, commanding tone entering his voice as he spoke. "Get on your knees," he said, his voice almost a growl.

You felt a shiver run through you, your body reacting instinctively to his words. You stared up at him, your heart pounding, your pulse quickening as you saw the way his eyes had darkened, the hunger there almost overwhelming. His breathing was shallow, his gaze so intense it made your knees weak.

Slowly, you moved, slipping off the table, your feet touching the ground as you lowered yourself to your knees before him. You didn't break eye contact as you descended, your gaze locked on his, the intensity of the moment making your heart pound.

There was something electric in the air, something that made your skin tingle, your breaths coming in short, shallow gasps.

Father Charlie's eyes were dark, his gaze fixed on you, his lips parted slightly, his chest rising and falling as he watched you. You could feel the heat radiating off him, the tension between you almost unbearable.

You knelt there, looking up at him, your hands resting on your thighs, waiting, anticipating.

Slowly, Charlie's hands moved beneath his robes, the rustling of fabric almost deafening in the silence of the room. You heard the soft clink of his belt buckle, the sound sending a shiver down your spine.

Your eyes widened slightly, your breath catching in your throat as you watched him, expecting him to pull his robes up and over his waist, but instead, he began slipping off the entire robe, his movements slow, deliberate.

Your gaze was drawn to his chest as the robe slid off his shoulders, revealing smooth, tanned skin, the muscles beneath rippling with each movement. He pulled the robe over his head, his arms flexing, the fabric falling to the floor behind him.

Your eyes trailed down his body, taking in every inch of him—the broadness of his shoulders, the way his chest rose and fell, the dark hair that started at his navel and led downward, disappearing beneath the waistband of his unbuckled trousers.

There was a dark line of hair, a happy trail that made your breathing stutter, your tongue darting out to wet your lips.

Charlie's eyes never left yours as he reached down, his fingers brushing against your cheek, his touch gentle, almost affectionate. His thumb caressed the bottom of your face before his hand shifted, his fingers gently squeezing your cheeks until your lips puckered slightly. His eyes darkened, his lips curling into a faint smile.

"Pull it out," he said, his voice low, almost a growl. He dropped his hand away, his gaze heavy as he watched you.

With shaking hands, you reached up, your fingers trembling as they found the button of his trousers. You fumbled for a moment, your breath shaky, your heart pounding in your chest.

You unbuttoned his trousers, your fingers brushing against the zipper, pulling it down slowly, the sound loud in the quiet room. You tugged the fabric down his hips, the trousers falling to his ankles.

Your eyes widened as you saw the large bulge straining against the fabric of his boxers, the outline of him clear, the sight making your breath hitch. Slowly, you reached forward, your fingers hooking into the waistband of his boxers, pulling them down, your gaze fixed on him.

His length sprang free, bobbing slightly before settling against his thigh. You couldn't help but stare, taking him in. The veins along his length stood out, thick and prominent, the head flushed a deep pink, glistening slightly.

You swallowed hard, your eyes tracing every inch of him, the reality of it sinking in. He was bigger than you remembered, the sheer size of him making your breath catch, your heart pounding even harder.

That... that was inside me...

Your cheeks flushed at the memory, the thought of it making your thighs press together, heat pooling in your belly.

"Sister," Charlie's voice broke through your thoughts, his tone soft but commanding. Your eyes snapped up, meeting his gaze, his dark eyes watching you intently. There was something in his expression, a mixture of desire and tenderness that made your breath catch. "Give me your hand," he said, his voice barely above a whisper.

You hesitated for only a moment before you extended your hand to him, your fingers trembling slightly. He took it gently, his thumb brushing over your knuckles, and you watched as his other hand moved down his chest, his fingers gliding over his smooth skin, tracing the lines of his muscles before finally wrapping around his length.

He let out a shaky breath, his chest rising and falling as he began to stroke himself, his thumb rubbing over the sensitive tip. His eyes never left yours, watching your reaction, his lips parted as he sucked in a breath, a shudder running through his body.

The sight made your mouth go dry, your eyes widening as you watched him, unable to look away. After a few seconds, he shuddered your name, his voice rough, needy. "Touch me," he panted, his eyes half-lidded, his gaze filled with desire.

You allowed him to guide your hand, wrapping your fingers around him, his own hand covering yours, his grip firm. A low, broken moan left his lips at the contact, his head tilting back slightly, his eyes closing for a moment.

You could feel the warmth of him, the way he twitched in your hand, the weight of him almost overwhelming.

Sitting up on your knees, you moved closer, your other hand resting on his strong thigh to steady yourself. Your thumb unconsciously brushed against his leg, the muscles tensing beneath your touch as you focused on holding him in your hand.

You looked up at him, your eyes questioning, unsure of what to do next. Charlie's gaze dropped to meet yours, his thumb reaching out to pull down your bottom lip, his eyes darkening as he dipped it into your mouth for a brief moment. He let out a soft sigh, his voice almost a whisper. "Open wider," he instructed, his eyes fixed on you. "Drop your tongue, just like you're about to eat a popsicle."

You followed his instructions, your jaw dropping open, your tongue hanging out slightly, your eyes still locked on his. He hummed in approval, guiding your hand up, moving his length towards your awaiting tongue.

The tip of him brushed against your tongue, the taste salty, musky, as he rubbed the head across the surface, letting out an appreciative hum. He did this for a few seconds, his eyes watching every reaction you made, his lips curling into a small smile.

Slowly, he pushed himself further into your mouth, just an inch or two, his breath hitching as he watched you. "Close your lips around it," he murmured, his voice strained. "Suck."

You closed your mouth around him, your lips sealing around the head of his length, your tongue pressing against the underside. He let out a deep groan, his hand moving to the back of your head, his fingers tangling in your hair as he held you in place. "Just like that," he whispered, his voice thick hoarse. "That's it... good girl."

You began to suck gently, your cheeks hollowing as you moved your head slightly, taking him in just a bit more. The taste of him filled your mouth, salty and slightly bitter, but not unpleasant.

His hips jerked slightly, a low moan escaping his lips as he watched you, his eyes dark, filled with lust. He guided you slowly, his hand on the back of your head setting the pace, his breathing growing more ragged with each passing moment.

"Use your tongue," he panted, his voice barely above a whisper. "Swirl it around the tip... yes, just like that." You did as he instructed, your tongue moving over the sensitive head, and he shuddered, his grip on your hair tightening, a deep groan rumbling from his chest. "God, you have no idea what you do to me," he muttered, his voice strained, his eyes locked on yours.

You continued to move, your hand stroking the base of him as you sucked, your other hand still resting on his thigh, your thumb brushing against his skin in a soothing motion.

His breaths came in short gasps, his chest heaving as he watched you, his eyes half-lidded, his lips parted. He whispered your name, his voice filled with need, his hips rocking slightly, pushing himself deeper into your mouth.

"You're perfect," he groaned, his head tilting back, his eyes closing as he lost himself in the sensation. "So good... just like that. Don't stop." His words were slurred, his voice thick with pleasure, and you could feel him throbbing in your mouth, the taste of him growing stronger as he neared his peak.

His hips began to move more, his breathing turning into short, desperate gasps, his hand guiding you, holding you in place as he chased his release. He muttered your name, his voice breaking, a mixture of moans and whispered praises filling the room as he lost himself to the pleasure.

When he finally came, the taste of him filled your mouth, his hips jerking, a deep groan escaping his lips as he held you there, his fingers tangled in your hair. He panted heavily, his chest rising and falling rapidly as he looked down at you, his eyes dark, filled with something raw, something possessive.

Charlie reached down, his hand wrapping around your arm, pulling you up from your knees with a strength that left you breathless. He yanked you into a kiss, his lips crashing against yours, his tongue licking into your mouth, tasting himself on your tongue.

He groaned against your lips, his hand moving to the back of your neck, holding you in place as he devoured you, his kiss deep, consuming. His tongue moved against yours, his teeth grazing your bottom lip as he pulled back slightly, licking across your lips before placing a softer, lingering kiss there.

He pulled away, his eyes locking onto yours, a small, satisfied smile on his lips. Without a word, he lifted you, settling you back onto the table, his hands pushing up your habit, his gaze dropping between your legs as he knelt before you once again. "I need to prep you," he murmured, his voice husky, his hands sliding up your thighs.

His fingers reached between your legs, expecting to find the fabric of your underwear, but instead, they came in contact with your soaked folds. He let out a surprised sound, his eyes shooting up to meet yours, a brow raised in question. You released a huff, your cheeks flushing as you looked away, muttering, "It's laundry day..."

Charlie let out a soft chuckle, shaking his head slightly, his lips curling into an amused smile. He leaned in, pressing a kiss to your knee before his hands moved to push your thighs further apart, the stretch making your muscles burn slightly, the sensation both uncomfortable and thrilling. He held your legs open, his eyes fixed on you, watching your every reaction.

Before you knew it, his mouth was on you, his lips pressing against your sensitive flesh, a silent gasp falling from your lips, your eyes closing, your head falling back as your back arched off the table.

The feeling of his tongue moving against you, licking, sucking, made your thighs tremble in his hold, your fingers gripping the edge of the table, your knuckles turning white.

He worshipped you with his mouth, his tongue moving with purpose, teasing your entrance, his lips closing around your clit, sucking gently.

One of his hands moved up, his fingers brushing against your entrance before slowly pushing inside, stretching you, his mouth never stopping, never hesitating. He worked you with a skill that left you breathless, every flick of his tongue, every gentle thrust of his fingers pushing you closer and closer to the edge.

Your orgasm built slowly, a steady climb that made your whole body tense, every nerve ending alive with sensation. Charlie seemed to know exactly where to touch, where to kiss, how to move his fingers to bring you to the brink, his name falling from your lips in a breathless whisper, your body trembling, your thighs shaking around his head.

But just as you were about to fall over the edge, just as the pleasure was about to consume you, he pulled away.

A frustrated whine escaped your lips, your eyes opening, a mixture of confusion and need in your gaze as you looked down at him. He stood slowly, his eyes dark, a small smirk playing on his lips as he watched you, your chest rising and falling rapidly, your body aching for release.

Charlie licked his lips, his eyes never leaving yours as he reached up, his fingers tilting your head back, exposing the line of your neck to him. He leaned in, pressing a soft kiss just below your jaw, his breath warm against your skin. His other hand moved to wrap one of your legs around his waist, his fingers digging into your thigh as he held you against him, his body pressed tightly to yours.

He let out a low chuckle, the sound vibrating against your skin. "Don't worry, Sister," he murmured, his voice thick with desire, his lips brushing against your ear. "I'll fill you back up and give you what you need." The words sent a shiver down your spine, your core clenching at the promise, a whimper escaping your lips.

Charlie reached between your bodies, his hand wrapping around his length, positioning himself. He rubbed the tip against your clit, the sensation making your body jerk, a gasp falling from your lips.

He moved slowly, dragging the head of his length up and down your slit, teasing you, your body trembling in his arms, the anticipation almost too much to bear.

Then, without warning, he pushed forward, bullying his way into you, the stretch almost unbearable.

You arched further into his arms, your mouth falling open in a silent scream, your body struggling to accommodate him. He let out a deep groan, his fingers tightening on your thigh, his other hand moving to grip your hip, holding you in place as he filled you completely.

His pace was brutal, each stroke long and deep, pulling almost all the way out before thrusting back in, his hips slamming against yours. His breath was hot against your neck, his lips brushing against your skin as he spoke, his voice low, rough, filled with need. "You... You feel so good... so tight around me," he panted, his words broken by soft moans. "I'm going to fuck you, fill you up until you can't think of anything else."

His hips snapped against yours, his movements rough, desperate, his body pressing you down against the table, his weight holding you in place. He leaned in closer, his lips brushing against your ear. "Imagine it, Sister," he whispered, his voice dark, almost a growl. "A secret child... a product of our sin, of our blasphemy against the church." His words sent a jolt of pleasure through you, your core clenching around him, your body reacting to the forbidden promise, the thought of it pushing you closer to the edge.

Your orgasm hit you like a tidal wave, your entire body tensing, your back arching as the pleasure consumed you, a silent scream on your lips. You could feel Charlie shudder above you, his thrusts growing erratic, his breath coming in short gasps as he chased his own release.

After a few more brutal strokes, he let out a deep groan, his hips pressing against yours as he came, his body tensing, his fingers digging into your skin.

He stayed there, his forehead resting against your shoulder, his breath hot against your neck as he tried to catch his breath, his chest rising and falling heavily. You could feel his heart pounding against your own, the room filled with the sound of your ragged breathing, the air thick with the scent of sweat and sex.

You shivered as he began to pull back, the movement making you wince slightly, your body still sensitive from the intense pleasure.

His softening length slipped out of you, the feeling making you gasp softly, a mix of relief and emptiness settling in your chest. You felt the warm, sticky sensation as globs of his cum poured out, slowly dripping down your inner thighs.

You began to close your legs, thinking he was done, that he would put his clothes back on, but his hand stopped you, his fingers pressing against the inside of your thigh, keeping you open.

Charlie lowered himself to his knees once again, his eyes fixed on you, a dark hunger still present in his gaze. Before you could understand what was happening, his mouth was on you, his lips pressing against your sensitive folds.

A sharp gasp escaped your lips as you felt his tongue, warm and wet, sliding through your slickness, lapping up the mixture of your release and his own. His groans were sinful, vibrating against you, his eyes fluttering closed as if savoring the taste.

Your brain raced, unsure of what to do or what to say, your body twitching beneath his touch, your legs instinctively trying to close, still overly sensitive from your previous climax. But Charlie's hands were strong, his grip firm as he held your thighs apart, his fingers digging into your skin, keeping you open for him.

He was relentless, his tongue moving with purpose, his lips closing around your swollen clit, sucking gently, sending sparks of pleasure shooting through your body.

Your breaths came in short, desperate gasps, your fingers gripping the edge of the table, your knuckles white. You could feel the pleasure building again, a slow, steady climb that made your whole body tense, every nerve ending alive with sensation.

You couldn't hold back the soft whimpers and moans that spilled from your lips, your head falling back, your eyes closing as the pleasure consumed you.

When you came, it hit you like a final, blinding wave, your body arching off the table, your thighs trembling in Charlie's hold. A broken cry escaped your lips, your back arching, your eyes squeezed shut.

Forgive me, Father, for I have sinned. Your mind was clouded as the pleasure consumed you, the feeling like the flames of damnation licking at your skin. For I am burned by the fire of desire, a sinner in the eyes of heaven.

And you weren't sure if you minded at all.

A/N: ya know, i think my smut has gotten better, what do you guys think??? and to answer the upcoming question(s) i know will be asked: yes, this is the final part, i won't be continuing the 'Devotion' series/making it into a book 😔 i know, i know. i promise i want too, but knowing me, i tend to bounce around/start new projects out of nowhere, so if i didn't spend weeks planning before hand, it'll grow cold eventually, and i don't wanna put you guys through that 😩 but never fret, i will continue writing for father charlie 😝, he's just too versatile not to. see you guys soon ❤️❤️❤️.

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netherfeildren · 1 month ago

Text

Busy, Dying. Part 1;

Pairing: Joel Miller x F!Reader

Summary: In an in-between place called his life, Joel Miller is alone. In search of a cure. In need of a miracle. In want of God.

Can I interest you in a cure for loneliness? She'd asked him in a language without words. Taking it is the easy part. Letting her go is impossible.

-OR-

an a/b/o soulmates AU

Rating: Explicit 18+

Content Warnings: No Outbreak AU, Alpha/Beta/Omega Dynamics, Soulmates AU, Infidelity, Cheating, HEA!!!!!, Angst, Fluff & Smut, Mating Bites, Knotting, Heat Sex, Breeding Kink, Group Therapy, Social Experiments, Basically puppy training for unsocialized Alphas, And by God that man will be house trained by the time she’s done with him!, Complicated family dynamics, Discussions of self harm, Depression, Existential Angst, Author returns not with a whimper but with a KNOT, I wrote this in a very unserious state of mind beware

A/N: Gray November, I've been down since July - but we're so back, baby. I’ve missed this so bad. I’ve missed you all, I won’t drone on and on. I hope you enjoy, and please talk to me in the comments. Update me on what I’ve missed, let me know how you’ve been and what’s happening in your life.

A great heartfelt thank you to all of my wonderful friends who so supportively cheered me on while I struggled to write this. Sincerely the best people I know.

Love you all madly.

Word Count: 6.5K

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Part 1;

The old linoleum tiles are the most peculiar shade of puce, and Joel has realized that there is someone sitting at the back of the room who smells… strange.

More brown than purple—an ugly color. There’s something about it that fascinates him.

The woman that is currently speaking tells of her husband; it’s the only tale she has to tell. She’s been doing it for weeks, and they all know it well by now. Older, omega, the woman, and at the latter and less comely stage of life. Most of them here can say the same. They usually give their names, those that get up to share—although it’s never a requirement when you attend, it is highly encouraged—the sharing, he means—but he never pays much mind to them—the names, that is. That’s not what he’s here for after all—to make friends. Although, he does see how that’d be the initial assumption.

Joel Miller is here for something more specific.

Six weeks he’s been showing up to these things now, and he’s yet to take a turn. He tells himself he’s working up to it.

What that specific thing is…he hasn’t quite figured out. He’s listening for it, though, and intently, even if he does skip over the names. It’s the details of what they’re telling that matter to him. The hows and intricate whys of what it is that brought them here today.

Her youth had been spent on a drunk, the woman is saying—her husband—and he’d been cruel to her in those days when there was still currency to spend in the form of her vitality. Joel nods at the puce—yes, he thinks, that’s usually the way of it. But later, there’s more to the story she reminds her audience, he drank himself into a fit, and had never been right since. The cruelty had been taken away from the marriage after that, and she’d been put in charge.

“But I wonder,” she says, “If sometimes I don’t miss it, the way he’d been,” —if the reason she was here now, with all of the rest of them that were just like her in their own unique ways, was that she’d been left lonely after her cruel husband had been exchanged for a sick one.

Joel nods again and wonders what sort of face the woman wears as she confesses but doesn’t bother to check. No matter, he knows they’re the same. If not in designation, then in heart.

It’s easy, that thing, he does it too, to wish for the bad. To want to hold on to it, the thing that hurts. Addictive, even, in some cases. Missing it is easy.

It’s why he’s here.

And it’s what they promise you. In their flyers and pamphlets, when they stand on the corners of streets talking people up wearing that look in their eye and that slouch in their step, when they smell it on you—or in the lack there of—a mate or a purpose.

Welcome to our meeting. We’re here to find the cure for loneliness.

That’s what they promise you when you come here.

It’d been that word: loneliness, actually, that had caught him. L-O-N-E-liness. There was something attractive about it to him. Not a label but a state.

You see, it was like this: Joel had seen a therapist once, several years ago, against his will and at the behest of another, who’d said all the wrong things in all the wrong ways.

“You sound depressed, Joel,” the therapist had told him.

He’d worn horn rimmed glasses and had a shiny bald head he could see the reflection of the overhead lights in. And worse—the non-scent of a beta which told him they’d never understand each other in the ways Joel longed to be understood. He’d—not hated him, necessarily—but felt an immense apathy for the man; more so than the regular apathy he felt for most things in his life.

“I don’t know what that means.”

“Very, very sad,” was the official diagnosis.

Joel hadn’t liked the sound of the word. The label. He did not like that a word so succinct could be ascribed to him and all that had happened to him in his life. There was no word for it. It just was.

But there was something different about a state of aloneness, which if attributed to himself, he could accept. He had been left alone, in ways. It was a tangible thing he could look around a room inside of himself and recognize.

They’re meetings, is what this place is—encounter groups this coalition offers where lonely demi humans can come to congregate, discuss their aloneness, what had led them to such a state; their lack of attachments, connections, mates—alpha, omega. Held in the basement of the Emmanuel Episcopal Church on Newbury street, right between his shop and house, although they never talk about religion which he likes because he doesn’t believe in religion.

God is still under review.

He wonders if the Catholics wouldn’t have them.

Sitting forward in his seat, the metal folding chair that always leaves his back aching something fierce, he presses his elbows into his knees to distract with alternative pressure. Focusing on his fingers woven together between his spread legs, he tries to pay attention to the man who’s stood up to speak now. Older than himself, late sixties, no children, no family, no nothin’; he’d run them all off.

But Joel is distracted.

The smell is stronger now. Stranger too. Something full bodied, but metallic like rust, astringent bleach, built in a way that forces saliva to pool heavy between his suddenly aching gums. A mask that sits atop something of a much different chemical architecture—that’s the strange part.

Or—no. The back of his neck itches, and Joel lifts a palm to cup his nape, quell the sting, feel the tender mark. No. The strange part is not the illusion of the smell. What it is, actually, is that he’s fairly certain what he’s smelling is someone else's blockers. Something which he’s positive he’s never consciously noticed on another person in the thirty plus years since he’d presented as an alpha.

He has, suddenly, the quite intense urge to peek over his shoulder, certain that he’ll be caught smelling things he has no business smelling. That there will be someone just there, breathing down the nape of his neck with accusation on their tongue—boo!

Silly. But he’d known today would not be a good day.

It’d started off wrong. The milk had gone sour overnight, the check engine light had come on in his truck, all his socks were suddenly mismatched with not a single pair to be found, and his usual route to work had been waylaid by some freak accident. A tree split in half, one side into a house, the other into the road. Not a sign of lightning in the sky all night long.

Perhaps he might be compelled to believe in God after all.

Joel does not like it when things are out of order or out of the ordinary. His life was organized in a way that never caused him strife or excess. And it was not that he was stuck in his ways, only that he enjoyed his routine and disliked when things were not as they should be. And this—whatever it is he’s smelling, whoever—is not as it should be.

The older gentleman, an Alpha too, is still speaking. He had a daughter, has, who no longer speaks to him. Won’t even take his money. He’d had a long career in government that’d filled him with greed and paranoia and a radical view of life that refused to align with the way young people saw the world now. Perhaps he’d tried to change at certain times, but he was old and set in his ways. Or maybe he hadn’t wanted to change as badly as he should have when he still had the chance to. Happily stuck in the past. His wife had died, and his daughter had gone away from him. Too tired of his mediocrity as a father to give him another chance.

The man sounds like he feels sorry for himself. Like he thinks himself the victim, and this one, Joel does look up at. He looks old and worn down, heavy beer pouch and thinning hair and sagging jowls. A sad and lonely man. Joel wonders if that’s how he looks to the other people in this room, as well.

“No man knows how bad he is until he has tried very hard to be good.” Joel blinks, looks at him more closely, tries very hard to find similarities between themselves. But no—not quite right, not the thing he’s looking for. Their plight is different. This man is not alone, he’s got his weakness to keep him company.

The one thing Joel had fought like hell to keep out of his repertoire of issues. He’d run from even the possibility of it as soon as she was dead, left Texas straight for the Northeast and from thereafter, everything he’d done, he’d done with a staunchness of character. If at the end of it, that staunchness was made up of apathy or numbness or dissociative fury, well, then at least he wasn’t still that man who’d been too weak to save his daughter.

That counted very much in Joel’s book.

An overabundance of cold numbness, little anger, everything a static haze—an abstinent winter. That was his whole life. But then, look at him now, he was here, wasn’t he? He’d taken that brochure handed to him on that last warm Tuesday weeks ago as he’d headed back to the shop from lunch.

Hello, sir. Could I interest you in a cure for loneliness? The young omega had said.

It’d started like anything—an experiment or a desperate ploy. The monotony had been steady going the past few years, getting older, colder. He’d grown hard and solitary around his wound, loneliness spread like a fungus, and he’d longed for any sort of change.

“A cure…how?” The terrible shrink had come to mind.

“Oh, nothing to fret over.” The young man had a nice smile, Joel remembers. Kind and straight toothed. Honest in the way that a stranger knocking on your door to sell you a Bible seems honest. “We call it an encounter group. People come, share, tell the tales of their designation and their lives. In the end, the result is different for different people. Some move on to a second step if they need more. Others find what they’re looking for just through the connection of sharing. But no matter the result, you’ll see, you’ll be cured. Promise.” He’d winked, smile deepening, giving him an appreciative once over at the end of his spiel. Joel had blinked back, surprised, confused, but curiosity peaked enough he’d obsessed over it for three short days before he’d found himself stepping into the molted incense smell of the belly of a church so dimly lit he was sure not even God peaked in this sad space any longer.

“It’s that easy?” Joel had asked, childlike in his throat-strangled hope.

“That easy.”

It seemed the smile had been honest enough to sell him the Bible.

The scent insists upon itself as the older gentleman finishes up, and Joel’s nose tickles with whatever it is it’s whispering at him. He wants to get up and walk out, run away, but suddenly his gut is tight and hot, and he isn’t sure he can actually stand up without disgracing himself in front of all these people. A wash of agonized heat moves through him, confused at what’s suddenly happening to his body.

“We have a newcomer today sharing for the first time,” Maria, the woman who leads the group, says at the front of the room. “Everyone give her a warm welcome, it’s her first day and already she’s brave enough to jump on up here.”

There’s the shuffling of bodies in their seats, a cleared throat, the man sitting behind Joel breathes so loudly he thinks he’s gotta have some sort of medical condition, the puce turns more hideous by the second, and his own heart is beating so hard in his ears the rush of blood is dizzying. He feels each thump of the thing against his breast bone in some sick imitation of a fist begging to be let out.

The new voice begins as nothing but a murmur.

An introduction—he misses the name. His breathing goes shallow, he’d tip over in his seat if he didn’t have both boots planted firmly against the puce. The voice gains strength and with it, Joel wishes he’d been paying attention from the start. He didn’t get to hear her name.

It’s a girl.

She’d run away from home in the spring of her sixteenth year to join the opera, she tells them. Had come upon the city in roaring spring and thought the rest of her life would be exactly like that, pure novelty in bloom, nothing like what she’d left behind. And was deeply disappointed when the reality was nothing such.

And Joel hears it, that disappointment in her voice at what she’d not been able to find after searching for it so religiously. This is what makes him look up at her. This, unlike all the others, he thinks he can relate to—just by the sound of her voice. The search for a thing lost which can never again be found. The fruitlessness of it all.

At that first vulnerable, terrified glance, she’s already staring at him, eyes catching like hooks.

He blinks once, twice—color—is sure he can hear the movement of his eyelashes passing through the air, the stick of his lids meeting—color—bright. This is it.

That wash of heat turns into a blaze, every single bead of sweat blooming on his brow is a tell evaporating into the ether. This is what he’d sensed from the start of the evening. Maybe even from the moment he’d seen that split maple.

“My mother always said I needed to be stronger, bolder, not so sensitive.” She looks away from him now. “I grew up in an angry house where you had to fight tooth and nail not to be overrun. Because of this, I left it at a very young age, and it was the greatest fight I could muster, abandoning that house of anger. I found myself something to bring me what I thought would be joy, a job and a city, and for a time, it was enough. But starting your lonely life so young…it’s hard.” After a pause of breath, “It’s been hard.”

“And it’s made me never want to have to—exert myself,” she says, searching for the right words, smiling when she finds them, and Joel has the urgency to smile back. “Now, I never want to have to be strong. I never want to have to try. I want to only be the way that I am. If that’s weak or sensitive or whatever it might be at any given moment, I don’t care. I don’t want to have to fight. I never want to be in an angry house again. I want someone who’ll see this in me and understand and never make me work for it, that they would give it to me willingly, easily, without me having to ask. Do you understand?” She looks about the room, and he hopes her eyes will land on him again, and even though they don’t, he feels she’s speaking directly to him. He nods, the hook of her temptation cast beneath his chin. “This is a fantasy. And it makes for a lonely existence. This idea of how I need it to be for it to be right—love.” She looks down at her hands folded atop the podium where they go to stand at the front of the group and share, and he wills her gaze to find him amidst the crowd again. “It’s so difficult. And this might seem very bad to you, weak willed, but it’s not. It’s only very honest. Which can never be a bad way to be.” That’s why she’s here, she tells them.

Finally, she looks back at him, and it’s that loneliness of two people amidst a crowd, facing one another, knowing themselves mirrored against the other and yet still disparate. There’s something indecent about the way she looks at him in front of all these people, the way he, in turn, looks back. A little bit like finding your own face on a stranger's body in a crowded room. Color rises to his face, and she gives him that same elusive smile from before.

He’s the one to look away this time.

As the crowd disperses for coffee and pastries after the last of the speakers, he searches for her. He needs to ask her name, feels as if he’s some blighted creature without it, swears he’ll never forgo attention during a meeting again if he can fish it out of her.

He finds her at the dessert table, Maria at her side and a hand at her shoulder. Something of a thank you is being imparted between the two women. The girl is saying she’s grateful for the welcome, grateful that they’d found each other.

Joel has things to be grateful to Maria for, too. His brother, mainly. It’d been pure chance that Joel had met her here, that she knew Tommy also. She’d met his brother on a summer trek to Wyoming where they’d become friends and had kept in touch afterwards. The woman has a thing about her that ingratiates people by sheer force of will. Perhaps it’s that she’s an alpha, too. Perhaps it’s just the charisma and wide smile. The fact that she has a countenance that takes no shit from anyone, that makes demands of a person whether they’ve got any give or not. But whatever the case, they’d realize their connection through Tommy, and she kept Joel updated on his brother whom he’d not spoken with in many years.

Watching the two women stand together and share that easy thanks that Joel so urgently owes, and yet which he cannot voice, he feels, suddenly, so angry. So awkward. So humiliatingly inexperienced. So unable to grapple with the pain of human contact, the fascination of it, the humiliating necessity.

That decade old anchor weighing him in place and the guilt of even thinking of it as such.

I feel decrepitly alone and odd, he thinks. And how strange, no? He was a normal man. He has a normal job. He lives in a normal house. Unexceptional in every sense. Everything in his life had been ordinary up until that one great tragedy. And then, as if none of the before had ever existed, it was as if everything afterwards was one great landslide of wrongness. The filth of it slinging mud all over his life so that nothing had ever been right after her.

So that now he cannot even approach this girl whose name he needs to know, and Maria, to whom he owes the last surviving connection to his brother.

As Maria turns to go, she gives him an encouraging nod, sending him into an agony of shyness. She’d sensed him hovering.

The girl remains at the dessert table, perusing the pastries. He can see her fingertips dancing over the golden, sugared confections, before she settles on a plain, glazed donut. He watches the bend of her elbow, bringing it to her mouth and thirty seconds later, the empty hand reaching for a napkin. He can’t help the huff of laughter it draws from him.

Watching the unknown creature with her back turned, he peers down the length of himself. Wood stain marred t-shirt, old work jeans and scuffed boots, he’d come straight from the shop. Looking back at her, she seems perfectly packaged and pristine. The two of them, different as chalk and cheese. He tells himself he shouldn’t do it, turn around and go, leave her alone, as he steps up beside her at the table.

Immediately, there’s the heat of her skin, the smell of her shampoo, and he realizes, and it’s silly because it should’ve been obvious from the get go, she’s an omega. The epiphany, not that she is one, but that he’d been too stupid and oblivious to notice, leaves him feeling vulnerable and angry.

Any sort of hello that’d been coming alive on his tongue immediately dies. And he’s about to make a run for it once again when she speaks up from beside him, “Would you like a donut?” Her small fingers are dancing over the pastries, searching once again. “I haven’t had one yet,” she lies, “I can’t decide which looks best.”

The dancing hand pauses over a golden brown puff pastry, seemingly coming to a decision, when she turns to look up at him. The scent of her isn’t just shampoo, not just the blockers he’d shockingly picked up on before, sharp, burning his nose. It’s her skin now, too. The dry sweat from hustling under her coat to make it to her first meeting on time salted along her limbs. Hot, sweet almonds. The shocking vermillion of the morning’s split maple comes to mind. He can smell her.

“A puff pastry?” She presses, quizzical crook to her brow at his silence and glower. “I think you really need something sweet. It’ll make you feel better.”

He wants to agree, to say he also thinks he needs something sweet. All he can manage is a short grunt because she smells…indescribable. Honeyed musk, something heady, like she herself had just got done baking, straight out of the oven and full of sugar into his waiting mouth.

That earlier anger, it kicks up a notch. Why isn’t he fucking saying anything?

She shrugs, as she lifts the puff pastry to her mouth he finally manages sound.

“You stink.”

He doesn’t know when he became such a liar.

A pause, mouth open, straight, white teeth ready to bite into the fluffy sweet bread. He can see her small, pink tongue, and it makes him go a little woozy.

He might be losing his mind.

She’s got elegant eyebrows that shoot straight up her smooth forehead. The look of her skin is glorious. “Excuse me?”

Now, there seem to be too many words spilling out of his mouth. “You need better meds or somethin’. Need to sort your shit out. Can’t go gallivanting about the world smellin’ like that.” Oh god, shut up.

“Excuse me!” She takes a huge bite of the pastry. “I do not gallivant,” she shoots back, mouth full of sugar and Joel goes hot everywhere. “What is wrong with you?” she demands, the pursing of a prim little mouth as she chews, eyeing him maliciously.

He hasn’t the damndest clue.

She is not wary of him in the slightest, which in turn tells him he needs to be wary of her.

Another large bite, inexplicably she extends her free hand towards him—potentially going into shock and entirely out of his depth when he takes it, the vulnerability of tendon and muscle soft beneath his strength—offering him a firm shake. She gives him her name.

In that moment, she has a look about her that tells him she’ll bite back if he isn’t careful, even if she hurts herself in the process.

And now he knows you.

“We might as well acquaint ourselves if you’re going to insult me. Don’t you think?” Peering up at him, he’s tall, well over six feet, and broad shouldered. Older, distinguished, but in a rough way, hewn oak, gray. “Are you typically this rude? Or is this a special occasion?”

Incredibly handsome.

“I’m being serious.”

“I do not stink. No one has ever said that to me, and my blockers are quality. It must be a you problem.” The puff pastry really is very good. And this man really is very handsome. Coming here today was a good idea.

One of the girls from the theater had suggested it, handing you a pamphlet with Looking for the Cure for Loneliness? emblazoned across the top, and even though she’d done it kindly, any other person would’ve taken the implication as an insult. Hey girl! No offense, but we all in the company think you’re super weird and have you heard about this support group for losers? Kind of like Omegas Anonymous!

Those hadn’t been her exact words, and you hadn’t taken offense. After the initial agony of embarrassment, you’d warmed to the idea. You’d heard of groups like these before. Congregations of demi humans where one could come to find community or connection. Be it socializing or support for people struggling with their designations and all that they implied, they served their purpose. And anyways, you weren’t in a position to be nitpicky.

It’s true, you’re alone.

So alone, in fact, that even the people around you could tell. Strangers, coworkers, your roommate and her girlfriend. Like some noxious cloud of loneliness following you around virtue signaling the desperate need for love and companionship and understanding you’re so in need of.

You increasingly saw yourself as a dancer on her toes, trembling delicately all over, vying desperately to survive to the end of the song. A monster with too many heads. A Cerberus of the richest caliber.

Two or three would’ve been acceptable—heads—but you'd long surpassed that and moved on to something unrecognizable and unpleasant. Desperately in need of a solution.

“Maybe you’re the one that stinks. Maybe it’s your upper lip.” And voila, the monster makes her debut.

“My—” The rude alpha, obvious, that one, lets out a choked sound, a deeper wash of color immediately flooding his cheeks. You dip your head sideways, appraising him as you polish off your second pastry. He has pretty bone structure, masculine, and after he’s done choking and spluttering, he can’t help but laugh a little bit. You see it.

Beneath a mouth that looks forbidding, perhaps even a little cruel, you can sense that he is not an unkind man.

Yet you’re not so green that you can’t recognize the gnawing hunger of loneliness in others. There’s always a reason people find themselves in places like these. His face, edged with the weariness of age, makes this obvious. He has good reason for subjecting himself to this.

Reaching for the lovely eclair you’d been deciding between earlier, you take a large bite of it. Almond cream and a thick layer of icing on top, humming happily as you chew while he stares at you like the three headed dog.

You hold the dessert out towards him, offering. Palm up, he shakes his head no, slightly disgusted look on his face.

“So. You come here often?”

He blinks. “Really?” Patronizing look on his face now.

“Why not? I am actually interested to know if this is worth my time.”

He rolls his eyes. Oh, he’s fun. “Yes, I come here often. Every Friday, for the past two months just about.”

“And you like it?”

“Is this the sort of place one likes?”

“Oh, come on. You never know what you might find.” He watches your mouth as you finish the eclair, swallowing hard. “Anyways, I think the world is kind of over out there. Don’t you? Might as well make the best of it in here.”

Thumb pressed against the edge of the table, he looks down, suddenly awash with shyness once again. A shy alpha, who’d of thought.

“What did you used to do?” He asks, motioning at the crowded room full of chatting alphas and omegas. You wonder how many of them will go home together for a fuck after this.

“When?” You ask, sure he means in lieu of this group, if you’d ever had another form of demi human community.

“Before this.”

“Before this? Nothing.” Smiling at him, certain he isn’t picking up on your teasing.

“Nothing?”

“Nope. I’ve always been here.”

“But— Don’t you…I thought...” He’s cute, shaking his head like you’re just too confusing to sustain. “You sing, right?” He pivots.

“Sing? Me? Whatever made you think such a thing?” The sly look on your face goes completely over his head and slides to the rest of the sweets. If he wasn’t watching, you’d have another.

“You said. You said you’re in the opera,” he gruffs back, looking visibly aggravated now.

Such fun.

“I’m a supernumerary,” you concede as you turn, making your way to an old relic of a pew along the far wall, tragically abandoning the desserts.

He follows as you go, sitting a respectful distance beside you.

“I don’t know what that is.”

“We’re the actors that fill the stage at the opera.”

“No singing?”

You shake your head, flirting with him. “I’m a wench, I’m a courtesan,” You bat your lashes, fingertips pressed coquettishly beneath your chin, “Part of a harem. I’m every woman you’ve never known. It depends on the opera.”

“I’ve never heard of that before.”

“I started as a stagehand when I first got to Boston. Worked my way up.”

“How’s it work? Lines or somethin’?”

“No lines. No anything. I’m a background actor—an extra, basically. If anything, I’m given some simple choreography direction, laugh, sigh, show fear, horror, shock. Whatever. I’m playing pretend without actually having to do anything.”

“No working for it.”

Your smile melts to blandness. So he’d been listening, then.

“Did you want to sing?”

“No. I wanted to be a supernumerary.”

“Strange. I’ve never heard of that,” he repeats.

“You did say, yes.” Now, the smile turns auspicious. Everyone’s here for something. “What do you do?” Perhaps this is it for him.

You eye the rest of the congregation, at the far exit, there’s a large alpha helping an omega into his coat.

“Got a shop, furniture, woodworking and such.”

“You make things?” He nods. “Ah, a man of creation.”

Sitting back to take him in, he’s got the beginning insinuations of silver speckling the dark hair at his temples, a well groomed beard, and large, intimidating hands.

His small huff of laughter is bashful, tinged with something disappointed. “No, nothin’ that grand.” And he’s got an accent heavy at the ends of his words, not Bostonian. Southern.

“But you know, I wanted to say…”

“Yes?” You press when he loses his courage, leaning towards him, inhaling deeply.

“Well, that I know what you meant earlier. Sometimes I can be the angry house.”

You blink once. Sit back. “I see.”

“It’s hard work. I have to try every day at it.”

Hard work being the house, or not? Two opposite sides of the same coin.

“How do you stop yourself?” You cast a line, fishing for his character.

“Don’t know. Keep myself cold, I think.”

“That’s no way to be.”

“No. It’s not.” He sounds amused. You want to bite him.

Everyone’s here for a reason.

“Ah, well. Perhaps that’s what’s brought you here then,” you say, twisting the toe of your sneaker against a scuff on the old hardwood, leaning forward on your palms wrapped around the edge of the pew.

“Maybe,” he says, but a sort of pained, exasperated sound follows it. Your hung head turns to peer at the handsome face, and he’s already looking at you.

There’s something animal afoot. Perhaps in terms of designation, sure, of course, like the rest of the alphas and omegas here. Your designations weigh heavily in the air. But also intrinsic to your two personalities. You feel you know him. That the two of you might have the same sorts of problems, desires. And as you stare at him, you think you may be equally measuring each other’s character, finding that similarity in one another.

His eyes move quickly between yours, over your face, and you can tell that prolonged eye contact isn’t his norm.

He has the most surprising set of bright hazel eyes like river stones.

Suddenly, you feel desperate to pull out a flicker of sexuality in the man, hear it in his voice. Sure, that with him, the experience would be entirely different, exhilarating. Perhaps a challenge. He seems to be more quiet and more patient than any other man you’d ever come across, but also more stern—taking in that soft mouth held so firmly. Far more remote too, by the far away look in his gaze. You want to see how he could be moved and what the sight of it would look like.

“Maybe not,” he finally continues. “I’m looking for something, I think.”

“Something like what?”

“Someone like me.”

“An alpha?”

“No,” he looks away, cringing. The word out loud seems a shock to him. “Did you listen to the woman at the start—missing the bad thing? I struggle…with that. Holding on, not letting go even when I know I should.”

You’re at an age now which sometimes makes it hard to realize or accept that what you’re living is your life. That it’s been time to grow up. That you have to remember to move forward when it’s your turn in line.

Which is to say, that you understand him—the difficulties of knowing when to hold on and when to give up.

“Sometimes you hurt yourself because you don’t have anything else to do. Sometimes, because the alternative is much worse.”

“Holding on ‘cause there’s nothing else to do?”

“Sure. Or you’re used to it.” You’ll be gentle with him, you decide. He’s in need of gentle handling despite the stern face; not a puzzle so arbitrarily solved. And those eyes are still so bright, he doesn’t seem like he needs any more hardship.

“Don’t know why I’m tellin’ you this,” he says, accent heavy.

“Well you did come here for a reason. Didn’t you?” Discreetly, you slide closer to his side, but he doesn’t notice. Apparently lost in the realization that perhaps this was what he’d come here for, to talk to someone, to have someone listen and relate. You’re almost positive he’s never gotten up to share with the group before in all his time coming to the meetings; doesn’t look like the type.

“I came here because I’m going to take better care of myself,” you tell him. “I’m going to try harder.”

“Harder at what?” He blinks as if attempting to come out of a dream.

“Everything. I don’t want to end up like my parents; drunk, angry, alone. I’m scared of it. I’ve avoided at least two of them.”

“I’m afraid of getting older,” the dream moves in his eyes. “That I’ll forget,” he says, but you don’t ask what.

All of a sudden, he seems very real. The swells of grief and loneliness moving through him so similarly, so close to the surface.

Springing up, you turn to face him and he follows to stand too. You can hear the crack of his knees unfolding, and when he lifts his left palm to stifle a gruff cough, the band of gold around his finger is paralyzing.

All of a sudden, he’d seemed like what you’d been looking for here too. There’s laughter coming from the church rafters.

“You’re a widower?” He wants to forget, he’d said he wants to let go.

Hadn’t he?

But instead, “What? No.” You stare pointedly at the ring, and he looks down at it also. “No,” he repeats.

“So’re you looking for a fuck, or what?” You try and hold back the bite it comes with, but you can’t.

“No. No. That’s not what I’m looking for.”

You don’t understand, impaired by your youth, you forget you’d chosen to be gentle with him. “Maybe it’s what you need,” you tell him, turning towards the exit before you can watch him cringe.

He follows at your heels, grabbing his coat from the hook by the doors before he’s stepping out after you into the fall blister. It’s cold and wet and glorious out.

“Don’t you have a coat?” He demands.

“Nope.” You start walking towards Arlington Street and the park.

“Did you walk here? It’s freezing out.”

“I did,” you turn back towards him, still moving, and he starts to follow.

“From where?”

“Downtown.”

“Where?” He scowls at your uncooperation, the married man. Alpha. The truth was that he’d smelt strange to you too. Like no one ever had before. As glorious and shocking as the cold. Like if snow had a scent. Disappointment churns in your gut alongside the excitement at the sight of him stalking after you.

“I don’t think you know it.” Your backward walk is interrupted as a hurrying stranger bumps into you, sending you staggering. Watch it, the Boston snark spits. The alpha turns to scowl, heavy boot forward like he’s half a mind to follow after the person you’ve just inadvertently assaulted.

And it occurs to you, “You didn’t tell me your name.” How silly of you. You’d been so distracted you’d forgotten to ask, and what if you never see him again after this? What if you can’t muster the courage to come back again next week? What if he can’t?

“It’s Joel.”

You think it sounds right.

“I might—know it.” Where you’re headed to. You smile at the dog with a bone. The disappointment pulses. “Is it far?” He presses. You shrug, looking over your shoulder. You’re going to lose yourself in the garden for a few hours, forget about him. “Why don’t you drive?”

“I like to walk,” you tell him, turning back.

He looks at you like he doesn’t like the things you say much less the way you say them much less the way you’re grinning at him. Perhaps he can see the disappointment and is disturbed by the sight of it, but the possibility seems too altruistic.

“You should try it sometime, Joel. You might like it too.”

His huge body seems to be shivering in the cold.

“I think…” The look on his face has turned suspicious now. He takes a step towards you. “You’re very strange. And you’re very young. I don’t think we should be friends.”

Your heart gives a demanding thump. “We’re not going to be friends.” When you’d first spotted him in the crowd, the strangest feeling had come over you. A tug behind your belly button, a scalding heat at the back of your neck, at your wrists. Perhaps it’s merely imagination, the look of disappointment you think you see on his face right before you turn away from him to continue on walking. “And I’m not that young anymore.”

You’d known today was going to be a good day. Extra cinnamon in your latte, a late start to your morning, warm in bed, no rain in the sky despite the cloud cover. And your director, late for rehearsals after some freak accident had befallen the roof of his house.

“That’s what all young people say.”

Part 2;

Netherfeildren's Masterlist

Updates Blog

#busy dying fic #vic fic #joel miller fanficition #the last of us au #joel miller x you #joel miller

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woso-dreamzzz · 2 months ago

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Princesse's Halloween

Hardersson x Daughter!Reader

Natalia Guijarro (OC) x Hardersson!Reader

Part of The Big Adventures Universe

Summary: The sixth of my Halloween-centric fics

"You're saying this is a family tradition?" Talia asks, one brow raised in confusion as you gather Kung up in your lap to feed him treats.

"Yes."

"And your mums did this all the time?"

"Yes," You laugh," Right up until I was born. Then they had to include me in it."

"And they just choose each other's costumes? Nothing fancy? And the other person has to wear it?"

"Yes."

Talia grins, looking you up and down and you get the funny feeling that you're missing something.

"Do you want to do?"

"I would love to do it." You girlfriend practically purrs out the words and now you definitely know you're missing something.

But Kung thumps his foot and Reina hisses on the balcony at the neighbours and Prins whines to go on his walk and you forget all about the look Talia had on her face when you told her about your family tradition.

It doesn't even come to mind again until you're welcoming your mothers in the day before Halloween.

"Oh," Talia says, throwing her bag down onto a spare chair as she comes in from her media commitments.

She's had a lot of those now that she's the Barcelona captain and you're secretly very thankful you don't have a captaincy. You don't know if you'd make a very good captain.

It's a dream, of course. Every wannabe footballer, pictures captaining their club and their country but you don't know if anyone would ever see you as a leader like that.

It's one thing to captain a youth team. It's something completely different to captain a senior team.

"I didn't realise you guys were coming today," Talia continues," I thought you were coming in a few days?"

"You'd be surprised by how many flights are packed after Halloween," Pernille throws over her shoulder, having completely taken over the stove in the short time she's been in your apartment.

Magda's over by one of the shelves, staring intently at Rocky like she's willing him to blow up with her eyes. "It's awful. There was a baby on our flight. It wouldn't stop crying. Who brings a baby into business class?"

You laugh. "You've gotten grumpy in your old age, Morsa," You say fondly.

"We didn't travel with you at all!"

"You did," You say," I used to go to camp with Momma."

Magda flicks her hand dismissively. "Yeah but you were a well behaved baby. You barely cried." She looks over at Talia, nose wrinkled. "I bet you cried a lot."

Talia grins, more of a smirk really as Reina clambers all over her. "And tantrums. They're the stuff of legend in my family. Completely blew Patri's tantrums out of the water."

"Yeah, well-"

"Must you two do this every time?" Pernille asks, plating up food and opening some drinks. "We get it. You're 'enemies'. Can we just skip this bit and get to the point where you're bonding over being remarkably similar?"

Talia and Magda exchange a look.

"You always ruin my fun," Magda complains good-naturedly, sitting down at the table," But fine. Only because I love you." She leans over to kiss Pernille square on the lips.

"Hey!" You say," If you banned PDA for us, no PDA for you! No kissing at my table!"

The meal is delicious as always.

Talia doesn't think for a moment that Magda was the better cook from your childhood no matter how many times you insist she was.

After cleaning up and a few movies, you finally remember that look a few weeks ago. The look that Talia gave you when she agreed to pick out your costume this year.

Magda and Pernille had gone first with Pernille choosing a cute tiger onesie for Magda and Magda choosing a massive, inflatable chicken costume for Pernille that nearly didn't fit through the doorway when she came in wearing it.

You'd chosen a fairly goofy looking vampire costume for your own girlfriend, complete with a set of fangs that glow in the dark.

It's only when you get changed into the costume that Talia chose for you, that you remember that god awful smirk she wore when you explained to her your family tradition.

"Er..." You look at yourself in the mirror, trying to pull down the skirt of your nurse's outfit. "Talia, are you sure this is everything? It's...Kind of short..."

You can hear Talia cough, movement outside the door and then her head is popping in.

"I...er...bought this before I found out your parents were coming. You look good though."

"So I take it this is the full costume."

"You look very good as a sexy nurse," Talia says, grinning back at you in the mirror.

You purse your lips in thought. "Yes, I do." You turn, passing her in the doorway. "I'm looking forward to hearing how you're going to explain this one to my mothers."

#woso x reader #hardersson x reader #pernille harder x reader #pernille harder #magdalena eriksson x reader #magdalena eriksson #woso community #woso imagine #woso fanfics #woso #the big adventures universe

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killrisma · 1 year ago

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Okay so I watched the Barbie movie today and just WOW! There is so much to unpack, every choice felt intentional and it was just altogether wonderful. But one thing I wanted to touch on was Allan and how I think he represented growing up queer, especially for trans & non-binary youth.

Allan was always out of place and uncomfortable in every scene he was in, he didn’t fit in with the Kens or the Barbies, he was just Allan. Allan was the only Allan that existed, he even questions why he’s the only one in his opening scene. Another thing I noticed is that they paralleled a lot of Kens pining for Barbie back onto Allan with his longing glances and attempts to get Kens attention. He also doesn’t fit when the Kens create their whole “Kendom” patriarchy. Even though he should be benefiting from it, he’s not, because even though he’s not Barbie, he’s also not Ken.

#barbie spoilers #allan barbie #barbie movie spoilers #barbie movie #barbie #barbie allan #lgbt #queer #non binary #trans #movie analysis

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immortalmrwavell · 1 month ago

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James: Two Men Bound as One

(For @sivfenrir)

(Original story posted March 23rd 2022 & April 16th 2022) This story has been mildly Updated

Long Story Here!! This story was originally posted in two parts but I’ve put them together in one post for your reading convenience! That said this is one of the longest stories I ever wrote so I hope you all enjoy!

(Part 1)

Seth, a youthful man in his 20’s, had just gotten home after another not so pleasant trip to his local gym. Not being able to get through a single workout without being loosely threatened and called homophobic slurs. As always he had Bradley to thank for that.

All his life Seth had been skinny as could be and usually found himself picked on by the bigger guys back in his school years. Of course now, being an adult, he was free of such torment. For the most part anyway. Whenever he ever tried going to his local gym to exercise and get into shape, the jocks and gymbro’s there would always give him a hard time. Saying how they didn’t want scrawny nerds slowing down their workouts by taking up the equipment. Of course not all the dudes in there were like this but there were enough for it to put Seth off wanting to go.

Today though, Seth decided to try his luck again in the hopes he’d get a decent workout in peace. The moment he saw Bradley from across the room however, he knew that wasn’t likely. Bradley would always make it his personal mission to make going to the gym absolute hell for any “geeks” or “nerds” that he saw. He saw the gym as a place only made for alpha bros like himself and hot chicks. With his small and meek build, Seth certainly didn’t fit either of those categories. It also didn’t help that Bradley was one of his former high school bullies…

Despite this Seth decided to put on a brave face before walking over to some equipment and starting his workout. Of course he only got about 10 minutes in before he was spotted by Bradley. The crude jock began to tease him relentlessly, telling him to get off whatever machine he was using so a “real man” could workout instead.

Surprisingly though, Seth stood up to Bradley somewhat. Usually he wouldn’t dare, preferring to shrink into himself and bend to the bully’s will. But today he managed to find an ember of courage burning inside of him. He took a breath before finally putting his foot down and telling Bradly he wasn’t gonna get off until he was finished.

Naturally Bradley didn’t take kindly to this lanky nerd speaking to him like that. He continued to more or less insult and bully Seth throughout the rest of his workout. And just when Seth didn’t think it could get any worse, as soon as he left to head home, Bradley cornered him outside of the gym and punched him hard in the gut. The jock spat on Seth, telling him to learn his place.

As Seth was left on the ground clutching his stomach in pain, he couldn’t help but have mixed emotions. Of course he hated what Bradley did to him. The constant pushing around and name calling amongst other things… but at the same time he felt sort of aroused by it all too. He’d always had a thing for big muscly men, especially jocks, and Bradley fit the bill perfectly. He wanted to hate Bradley but he always seemed to end up in bed jerking off to the bully instead.

Besides he knew Bradley wasn’t quite as impressive as he seemed in terms of having his life together. He had a shitty handyman job that didn’t pay a whole lot as well as a part time job as a personal trainer. Seth on the other hand was working his way towards a programming job that would pay quite a fair amount. More than Bradley would ever be earning anyway. That thought always gave him some peace of mind.

Later that evening, after a slightly painful walk home, Seth ended up playing a couple hours of DnD with his other “nerdy fag friends” as Bradley and the other straight jocks would call them. It wasn’t until midnight that they finally got to a point where they could pause the game for the night. Most of his friends went to bed after that, leaving the group call they’d been on. Seth on the other hand decided to stay up awhile longer.

He’d been searching up a bunch of gay porn and stuff when he got sidetracked and started looking at sex toys online. He’d always thought about buying some. And so he scrolled through a bunch of different sites and toys until one finally caught his eye.

At first glance they seemed like an ordinary pair of bondage handcuffs. That is until he read the description. Apparently they were called ‘merging cuffs’. It claimed that if two people were to cuff themselves together then they would merge into one person! Of course Seth didn’t believe it one bit but the idea of it certainly piqued his interest. And his boner. The cuffs were also super cheap so he just shrugged and purchased them right then and there on a whim. Why the hell not right?

It couldn’t have been more than a minute after buying those cuffs that Seth heard a knock at the front door. But it was past 1:30 in the morning?! Who the hell would be delivering mail at this time? Regardless, curiosity got the better of him as he pulled his pants back on before sneaking out of his room. He was careful not to wake his mother who was asleep in her room as he approached the door.

He quietly opened the front door, not sure what or who to expect. What greeted him was a tiny wrapped gift box sitting on the door mat. Whoever left it there was nowhere to be seen now. Seth reached down and picked up the peculiar box to find that it was in fact addressed to him. Now even more curious he closed the door before taking the box back up to his bedroom.

After plopping himself down on his bed, he opened the box to find what was inside. Only he was shocked to find the very same pair of handcuffs he’d just ordered on the web! But how!? It didn’t make sense!? Seth inspected the box a little before pulling out the cuffs. Yep, definitely the same ones he ordered. He hardly knew what to think at this point. Despite that he couldn’t help but notice a small instruction letter at the bottom of the box too. Seth pulled it out before reading the following…

~~~

These handcuffs will allow two individuals to become one entirely new entity.

It’s as simple as putting one cuff on person A and the other cuff on person B. When they become one they will for all intents and purposes become an entirely new being made up of the qualities from their two counterparts. Once Person C is created, reality will adjust to compensate for their existence and the absence of their former selves. The only people recorded to still be somewhat aware of the previous reality have been parents to the original Person A & B. Besides that nobody is likely to be aware of the merger that has taken place.

These handcuffs are also only good for ONE USE. You can choose to split at any time but after that you will not be able to use the cuffs to merge again. To split you must break the two metal bands created by the cuffs after the merge is complete. You must also be willing to split for this to work. If the metal bands are somehow to be broken and Person C does not wish to split back into A & B then the merge will become PERMANENT.

With all this in mind, use these handcuffs wisely and with a sound mind.

~~~

Seth’s heartbeat was soaring after reading all that. Sure he hadn’t believed it before but now he wasn’t so sure anymore. He couldn’t fathom how the hell this package got here as fast as it did. That said he started to question if maybe these things could be the real deal after all…

— The Next Morning —

After jumping out of bed and getting ready for the day, Seth threw on a baggy pair of shorts and a loose fitting t-shirt to match before heading off to the gym once again. He was sure to grab the cuffs just before he left. Stuffing them into his bag before setting out.

Upon stepping through the doors he could already hear the grunting of men lifting weights and growing bigger. Music to his ears. He’d chosen this specific time for a reason however because he knew (after some social media stalking) that every Tuesday at about 9:30am, Bradley would be at the gym without fail.

Turning the corner past reception, he saw that his assumption was absolutely correct. Across the gym floor he could see Bradley already warming up. With that in mind he entered quietly, choosing some equipment as far away from Bradley as possible. Of course this only worked for so long until the meathead finally noticed him.

From there it was just like every other time the two had been at the gym together. Seth getting teased and pushed around whenever Bradley had a break between sets. He managed to hold out and endure it though. Rolling with insults until Bradley eventually finished his routine and sauntered off into the locker room. Seth waited a solid minute or two before following him.

Seth hesitantly snuck around the locker room in search of the muscle bound hunk who’d been tormenting him. The room wasn’t all that big so it didn’t take that long for the nerd to spot Bradley standing by an open locker grabbing a towel and some shower gel. He must’ve been getting ready to have a quick rinse off in the showers. Lord knew Seth was tempted to see if he could catch a glimpse of Bradley’s nude body. Just the thought of seeing water cascade down the perky muscle ass was enough to make him wanna bust a nut on the spot. Yet somehow his urge to try out the mysterious handcuffs was even stronger.

Seth pulled the handcuffs out of his bag. He looked down at them before glancing up at the jock before him again. He still wasn’t sure if these things would work. Worst case scenario, they don’t do anything and he probably gets punched in the face. But if somehow they did work then… it’d be worth the risk.

Seth waited until Bradley was facing the other to put one cuff on himself and begin to tip-toe towards the man. His small size allowed him to be fast while remaining as quiet as a mouse. Despite that his heart was still pounding both with worry and excitement as he inched closer to the jock. He could smell that sweaty post workout scent filling his nostrils already. He even watched as the hunk kicked off his trainers and bent down to pull off his ankle socks before tossing them in the locker. Bradley was about to pull off his tank top next when he felt a cold metal bracelet smack against his wrist and snap shut.

“THE FUCK ARE…” The gym bro stopped short as he saw the small man who’d just slapped a single handcuff on him. Seth felt as though his heart were about to explode out of his chest as the man looked down at him with pure disgust.

“Oh. It's you.” Bradley spat, already clenching his fists. “I don’t know what the fuck you think you’re doing but yo—” He was cut off by a sudden jolt of energy that ruptured through his body! Seth felt it too! It seemed as though it came directly from the handcuffs.

Both men looked down at the metal cuffs bonding them together as they began to emit a strange glow. The glow started to intensify and before either of them could say another word, Bradley and Seth began losing control of themselves. Their bodies began to shake and convulse uncontrollably as the magical glow encased them as well. Bradley could only curse and shout as he had no clue what the hell was happening. Seth on the other hand had a wide grin, both of wonder and relief that these merging cuffs might actually be working!

The light around them only continued to grow as suddenly Seth and Bradley bodies forcefully pulled together like magnets as if some invisible force was binding them. Seth could feel Bradley’s muscle jiggling against him as they convulsed, loving the fact that he was just tall enough for his face to be pressed into the massive hunks pecs. God it was like he was having a wet dream! And he was gonna become a part of this huge meathead?!?! Fuck! He just couldn’t wait!

Just then the magical glow engulfed them completely. The last thing either of them felt was the strangely blissful sensation of sinking inside one another. Their bodies melding into one before blacking out…

———

A new man’s eyes would soon flutter open. He was sprawled out on the floor of the locker room staring up at the ceiling. He felt odd. Unfamiliar? But also not?… he couldn’t even explain it.

He began to sit up slowly, placing a hand on his head as he glanced towards the open locker beside him. His locker? Yet even the way his body moved felt odd and confusing. Like it was completely new yet had always been this way simultaneously.

“I… can’t believe it…” He muttered to himself in astonishment as he looked down at his hands and body. He was massive yet that didn’t seem to come as much of a surprise. He flexed an arm, feeling his biceps bulge. It felt so natural and so exhilarating at the same time. Surreal was probably the best way to describe it. “It… worked?…” He said, half confused.

With a breath, the new man stood up and was able to walk himself over to a mirror nearby and sink to get a proper look at himself. His eyes widened at the sight that stared back at him.

“I’m… I’m a… fucking nerd-hunk!” It was like he wanted to say two completely different things simultaneously. He looked like a nerd… but he looked like a hunk. But hadn’t he always been a nerd… or a hunk? Everything was so confusing. So muddled. So warped together. The man could hardly think properly.

As he inspected his reflection further, the man could see Seth’s nerdy features but it was as though they’d been ‘jockified’ in a sense. He was wearing Seth’s glasses too yet Bradley’s backwards cap also sat on top of his head. His clothes looked to be the same as Bradley’s gym gear yet the colour scheme had changed to fit that of Seth’s. And his body… It was enormous! So many years of hard work and dedication put in by Bradley yet certain features like his birthmark, body hair and more were distinctive of Seth.

Seth and Bradley. Bradley and Seth. He could see both of them staring back at him. He was also both of them and neither at the same time. Two bodies. Two minds. Two sets of memories. All of them combined into one single person. That’s who he was. And as his brain began to sort through its muddled memories, he quickly remembered how he came to be. Those handcuffs. Seth had used them to merge himself with Bradley and the result of that was the man looking back at him in the mirror.

The new man took another breath, longer and deeper this time as he tried to collect himself. Who was he? He wasn’t Seth and he wasn’t Bradley. He was a whole new person made from the sum of his parts. He felt and thought a lot of the same things they did yet he felt also completely new. As if he’d only just been born in a way.

That in mind he had to come up with a new name right? Just picking either Seth or Bradley didn’t feel right though. Saying Seth’s name out loud made him want to start throwing out homophobic slurs. Meanwhile saying Bradley’s out loud made him weirdly horny like he wanted to start jerking off to other gym bros and their huge bodies. But it still felt wrong. Like the two sides of himself were arguing inside his mind. So perhaps a whole new one would be better? He thought about it for a moment until finally a name sprung out at him.

James!

Yeah. He liked that. Not too similar to either of his old names and it had a nice ring to it. He couldn’t feel any conflict between his two halves at the name so that’s what he decided to lock in.

It was then that he took notice of the two metal bracelets on each of his wrists. He remembered the note Seth had read mentioning that’s what the handcuffs would become post merge. They emitted another faint glow for a second before settling again. Weird. He would’ve been more curious about it if he wasn’t so distracted by his new form.

James began to stroke strong stubble on his face. An interesting feeling since Seth was always relatively smooth. He scratched through it a little before running his calloused hands across every little detail on his face. It was like the perfect mix and match of facial features in the most handsome way possible. Mostly picking out Seth’s features as a base and then using Bradley’s to emphasise them in a masculine jockish way.

Of course his hands then couldn’t help but wander down his body. It didn’t take long for him to start grasping at the huge watermelons sized pecs sitting on his chest. Fuck he was jacked. He did a double bicep pose into the mirror that only served to make him look even more massive. James could only watch and smirk as his arms bulged with size. His nerdy half was beyond excited. Adoring the feel of all this powerful muscle mass that it had been yearning for all these years. So much so that James’ cock began to stiffen in his shorts. His jock half was also enjoying it but for a completely different, much more narcissistic, reason. Loving to see how this form was even bigger and more of a stud than even Bradley’s former body.

After a little more squeezing and groping of his new form, James couldn’t help but want to whip out his new combined cock. He gingerly tugged at the waistband of his shorts before slowly sliding them down until his dick jumped forward. By god was it massive. It seemed as though his counterparts cock sizes had also merged to become a much bigger whole. Seth’s cock had sat at a respectable 5 inches hard while Bradley had been rocking a 6 and a half incher. James however put them both to shame with an impressive 9 inch monster with the kind of thickness that would make any man or woman’s eyes water.

“Fuuuuuuuck…” The fused man grunted with a prideful smirk. “I could have so many hot dudes slobbering over this thing.” James chuckled as he gripped the thick appendage, sending shivers up his spine. His mind filled with images of sexy buff jocks getting their ass holes resized by his cock. That is until a conflicting thought crossed his mind.

“Wait no-I’m… I’m not a fag!?!” He questioned abruptly as Bradley’s influence shone through a little. Just then the images of muscular men in his mind transformed into hot busty women. His previous thoughts about cock and ass shifting to that of tits and pussy instead. His monster cock pulsed even harder at the idea of burying himself inside a hot babe. “Nahhhh bro. I fuckin love pussy!!” He exclaimed.

And yet his mind boomeranged once more.

“But then again…” his thoughts drifted back to the idea of eating out the hole of one of his bros at the gym before thrusting his cock into a plump jock butt. James’ mind continued to play a horny game of ping pong as it bounced back and forth between extremely gay and super straight thoughts, lightly jerking his cock throughout the conflict.

“Cock… Pussy… Pecs… Tits…” He murmured to himself as his cock started to drool precum.

James was only snapped out of this cycle when he heard some other dudes opening the locker room door. He’d completely forgotten he was in a public space! He quickly tried tucking his cock away into his shorts again, struggling to hide his obscene bulge in the process. Though he wasn’t as successful as he’d hoped before another jock turned the corner and saw him. It was one of Bradley’s gym buddies, Sam.

“Yo Jay! I thought you said you were getting a shower. You got a hot chick hiding in here somewhere?” Sam teased with a chuckle upon seeing the bulge, looking around and behind James as a joke. What struck James as odd though was the fact that the smaller jock somehow knew the name he’d come up for himself mere moments prior. Or at least an abbreviation of it that his jock half rather enjoyed. He knew reality should’ve shifted after he came into existence but he came up with that name after the shift right? Just then his mind snapped back to when he thought up the name. The metal bands on his wrists. They glowed a little when he decided on it. Perhaps that was them adding his new name to the reality alter or something? It seemed plausible but his train of thought was lost as Sam continued. “Or a dude maybe? I know you’re into that as well.” His apparent bro added.

“Oh umm… Nah bro just excited to see my uhhh… progress…” James lied with an awkward smirk. What else could he really say?

“Well I love seeing my results as well…” Sam turned to the mirror, giving a flex of his own. “But I don’t go around getting boners because of it.” He laughed.

James couldn’t help but lock his gaze onto Sam’s arms. He thought about kissing those biceps before making out with that scruffy dumb jock face of his. His Seth side had clearly harboured a huge crush on Sam as well.

“But you do you man, I don’t judge.” The other jock finished before patting James on the shoulder and walking away towards his own locker. As he did James couldn’t help but turn and get a quick look at his bro’s ass in those shorts.

‘He’s definitely been training his glutes a lot recently…’ James thought to himself, his dick jumping a bit in his own shorts at the thought of getting his hands on that ass. Smacking and fucking it. However his inner thoughts began to conflict again. ‘Nah Sam is just a bro! Bros don’t fuck bros!? Bros talk about hot chicks together!’ He then remembered a time where Bradley had seen one of the other female personal trainers wearing quite the revealing outfit one day. His cock began leaking precum once again as he remembered wanting to shove his dick between her huge tits while he kept stealing glances at her heart shaped ass. But just then, like getting horny whiplash at this point, his mind darted back to a time when Seth had seen one of the male personal trainers checking himself out in the gym mirrors after a pump. He was basically drooling as he watched the man bounce his pecs a little, wishing that he could shove his dick between those huge mounds of muscle.

Seeing the memories side by side however helped James realise something. Despite one experience being gay and the other straight, they were both extremely similar. So much so that you could switch it by having Seth be the one ogling at the woman’s tits and Bradley gushing over the man’s pecs and almost nothing would change. It was more or less the same experience. Perhaps his two halves were more alike in that regard than they originally thought…

James was suddenly snapped back to reality at the sound of Sam shutting his locker. “Well I’ll leave you to get back to…” he glanced down at James’ still slightly visible bulge. “Whatever you were doing before I guess.” And with that grabbed his stuff and left James alone in the locker room once more. He looked over at his towel along with the shower gel sitting on the bench. He still kinda smelled like sweat from Bradley’s workout. Though at this point he just wanted to have an excuse to get naked.

The grey tank top soon found itself being tossed inside the locker alongside Bradley’s trainers and ankle socks, swiftly followed by the pair of black shorts James had been wearing. Then after shutting the locker, grabbing his towel and shower gel, James sauntered off towards the showers in all his huge muscular glory. Good thing they had shower cubicles because there was no way he was gonna be able to hide his massive erect cock now.

Upon twisting the handle the shower burst to life. It soon warmed itself up. James stepped under the refreshing water flow with a deep sigh. He let the water run over him calmly for a moment before getting down to business. Grabbing and groping at his body once again but with much more lust this time around. Feeling the weight of his pecs, the size of his arms, the heftiness of his thighs and the thickness of his ass. It wasn’t long before he’d gotten some gel on his hands and began rubbing it all over his hulking form. Making sure to rub the soap into every crevasse he could find and loving every second of it.

The gay part of him couldn’t help allowing one hand to linger excessively long around his ass. Squeezing and kneading each of his cheeks before eventually sliding a finger between them and towards his asshole. But before he could try and enter it, the straight part of him forced his hole and asscheeks to clench tightly shut so nothing could penetrate it. The feeling to both desire and fight against something simultaneously was an odd one to say the least.

Eventually he stood back under the water fully to rinse off any remaining soap. As he did his thick python of a cock continued to buck and bounce at full mast as if it were begging for release. Naturally James was willing enough to oblige it.

James took a strong grip on his fat member before starting to pump. As he did he tried to think of anything that would get him going. Of course his own body was one thing. So huge and fuckin powerful. He could dominate anyone! He couldn’t help but imagine pressing one of his gym bro’s down onto his back before sliding his cock deep inside his ass, pounding away and dominating him in every sense. His balls were already churning with cum at the thought when his brain began to drift elsewhere again.

Now Imagining himself between the legs of one of those personal trainer babes at the gym. Eating out her pussy and tasting her delicious pussy juice before getting her to give him a tit job and busting a nut all over her face and breasts.

Then he jumps back to the guy he’d been pounding now giving him a sloppy blowjob. James’ hand on the back of his head pushing him as far down as he’ll go. He could practically hear the imaginary man gagging on his massive length.

Just then however, his two visions began merging into one. Both transforming into a single horny day dream.

He was now imagining himself in a threesome. The babe presented him with her wet eager pussy while the hunk presented his tight hungry hole. James was spoiled for choice. He wanted both! He loved both! Soon enough he imagined himself constantly swapping between the two. Pounding her pussy then pounding his hole then back to her pussy again. Going back and forth again and again until he nutted inside one.

By this point James was jerking his cock furiously to the mixed horny thoughts running through head. It was then that the bracelets that he’d left on until now began to glow once again. Suddenly his balls felt even fatter and fuller than they were before but at this point James was too horny to stop and ask why. At this point all he wanted was to explode! His eyes began to roll back as ecstasy overtook his body. His cock and balls started to tense up as his hand continued stroking like his life depended on it. He could feel it! He was gonna blow!!

“OOOOAAHHHHH FFUUUUUUCKKK!” James roared with extreme intensity followed by a massive rope of cum blasting from his cock. With it taking all of Bradley’s homophobic ideals and splattering them across the cubicle wall in a sticky mess. Finally releasing the one roadblock that’d been stopping James’ two sexualities from merging into a healthy Bisexual.

Then, as his cock released another tiny splutter cum, he also let go of Seth’s lack of vanity allowing him to become 100% confident in showing off his new and improved body. After that James was surprised when his cock suddenly shot another powerful rope at the cubicle wall, purging any desire to bully others by belittling them as Bradley had done so many times before. This was then followed by James’ hung appendage twitching again and letting out yet another modest cumshot. This one took with it Seth’s meek and shy nature, leaving behind only that of Bradley’s confident and extroverted one. It was only after his body had ejaculated all the qualities necessary to create the best version of James possible was his cock finally able to stop shooting load after load.

James fell to his knees then backwards onto his ass in exhaustion. He watched as his cum and ejected traits were washed down the shower drain with a faint smile on his face. There were simply no words to describe how incredible he felt. Just that he felt whole now. His two halves had finally stopped fighting against each over and have unified as one, leaving his mind feeling the clearest it'd been since the merge.

“Hey dude. You alright in there?” Came the echoing voice of another gym goer from just outside James’ shower cubicle. “I heard some noises from out there.”

He jumped back up to his feet in surprise. “Y-yeah! I’m good bro. Just slipped, but I’m good!” He shouted back, lying through his teeth as he glanced at some of his thick cum still dripping down the wall. The guy on the other side seemed a tad suspicious due to James’ tone but didn’t think anything of it and left back into the main locker room. Moments after, once he’d cleaned/licked up all the cum leftover inside the cubicle, James left with a towel wrapped around his waist as he made his way back to his locker.

Before long the merged nerdy jock had dressed himself in the spare set of clothes Bradley had in the locker. They felt tight on his body, not that it was a problem. He just loved the way his pecs stretched the t-shirt and how his thighs and ass strained inside the shorts. Wasting no more time though, James’ pulled on the leftover ankle socks and trainers before grabbing his gym bag and heading out of the locker room.

As he crossed the gym floor, James could feel the eyes of both horny and jealous people watching him and his body. And he got off on it like hell. Though just as he reached the reception he felt a light tap on his shoulder. Turning around he saw none other than the exact same female PT that Bradley had the hots for. His eyes almost immediately gave her a once over, inspecting her curves and cleavage shown off in the well fitting tights and sports bra.

“Heeyyy James. Are we still on for Friday night?” She asked with a devious smirk as she eyed him up just the same as he had. Looking over his bulging muscles and meaty pecs. It was then James recalled a recent memory of Bradley going on a date with her the night before. It must’ve gone well since she gave some heavy suggestions on what she wanted to do with him next time.

“Of course! Couldn’t be more excited.” James replied in a cocky but cheery tone.

“Glad to hear it.” She said, taking a step forward before reaching down, gingerly grasping at his bulge. “I can already tell we’re gonna have so much fun.” She giggled while rubbing his thick package before letting go with a wink. James grinned as he watched her turn and walk back towards some gym equipment to finish her routine, not being able to help watching her ass for a moment before turning around himself and heading out the gym exit.

James stepped out into the world, now with a semi-boner once again, and took his first deep breath of fresh air. Man did it feel good. He only had a couple seconds to enjoy the moment however as he felt the buzz of a phone from inside his gym bag. Opening the bag up he pulled out a familiar phone and saw a Grindr notification. He knew for a fact that Bradley never had Grindr but then again since reality changed this was no longer Bradley’s phone. It was James’.

Tapping the notification and unlocking the phone then took him to a chat this guy had started with him.

— Holy fuck! And I thought I was getting big hahaha. You’re fucking huge man! I would do anything just to feel those massive arms and that sexy chest! 😍 —

Well he was certainly straight forward. James went and gave his profile another quick look. They were about the same age and the guy looked to be a lean jock type. Soccer player by the looks of it. He had short brown hair with a bit of scruff on his face and some cute handsome features. The dude was definitely hot, he’d give him that. James half-hard dick even twitched again when he saw a photo of the guy wearing nothing but a Jockstrap, framing his cute ass perfectly. He could already see himself burying his face and cock between those cheeks.

He’d have to get back to that guy for sure but right now he had more important things to deal with. If everything that letter was true then his parents on both sides wouldn’t have been affected by the reality shift all that much. They probably weren’t even aware of his existence yet. So that was his next order of business. To break the news. Luckily, since Seth only grew up with his mom and Bradley only ever had his dad, there were only two parents to break it to rather than four. Still won’t make it any less awkward…

(Part 2)

James stood outside his house… or one of his houses anyway. With a deep breath he stepped forward and gave a rhythmic knock. It was only mere moments later that Seth’s mother Lisa opened the door. Of course she didn’t recognise the hulking man before her but there was an odd sense of familiarity about him.

James politely gave her his new name before asking to come inside, saying that he has something very important to tell her about her son. The middle aged woman was reluctant for a moment but the man seemed genuine so she stepped aside and offered him a seat in the kitchen.

“Ummm… well I’m not quite sure how to say this…” As James fumbled with his words Lisa became worried. She began to ask if Seth had been hurt somehow to which James swiftly reassured her that wasn’t the case. “No Mom. The truth is that… I am Seth. Kind of.”

“W-what are you talking about?! You aren’t my son!” Hearing his mother shout those words definitely hurt but James understood her view. He did look completely different after all.

“Just please give me a moment to explain.” He pleaded.

She gave him a distrusting look but allowed him to take the floor and somehow make sense of the madness he spoke.

“Yesterday I ordered these weird handcuffs and…” James went on to explain how the mysterious handcuffs worked and how they arrived almost instantly as he ordered them online. “Then this morning I took them to the gym. You remember Bradley right?…” He refreshed her memory of the bully he’d had throughout high school and how he went to the local gym frequently. “I saw him with all his muscle and confidence and decided that… I wanted to be a part of that.” James continued, telling her how the merging process had gone down after slapping the cuffs on himself and Bradley. “It was weird and confusing at first, like our individual minds were constantly pulling our new self in two different directions with opposing thoughts, but I think we’ve managed sync up now… kinda”

Of course his mother had no idea what to say to all this. The way James spoke reminded her of Seth only with a deeper, more resonant voice and a lot of the things he said were accurate like the stuff about high school… But surely he could’ve just acquired that information somehow. The only logical solution was to ask him a personal question that only Seth would know the answer too.

She sat and thought for a moment until she came up with just the question to ask. "So when you were younger, you were really proud of this one sunflower you grew. how many seeds did it make in the end?"

"Oh, hahah! I remember that easily. Just the one seed, unfortunately." He chucked thinking back to that old childhood memory. "It didn't grow to become a giant sunflower sadly, just a tiny little lanky one. Could only grow one premature seed before dying.”

Lisa couldn’t believe it, it was such an obscure memory that nobody but herself and Seth could’ve possibly known. “S-Seth?… is that really you?” She asked to which the bulky young man simply nodded with a smile in response. “I can’t… I don’t… I…” She had no idea what to say but she found herself believing it. Many of his features reminded her of her son, only more masculine, and the glasses he wore were unmistakably the same. And yet there were also a bunch of completely different features like his eyes, facial hair and most notably his large physique. Was all that crazy talk he’d said about merging actually true after all?

“Look I know you must have a lot of questions but right now we’ve got to call my dad… on Bradley’s side I mean.” James said, placing a large reassuring hand on top of hers before getting up to grab the house phone. Lisa could only stare in awe at her son(?) as he dialed a number and started calling. Soon enough Bradley’s father Saul answered.

“Wassup Dad! Look there’s something super important I gotta talk to you about. How soon can you get down here?” Suddenly James’ entire tone of speech had shifted. His dad didn’t think anything of it as James’ voice now sounded exactly like his son’s over the phone. Saul sighed at the request but agreed to meet ‘Bradley’ after being given the address.

30 minutes later there was a knock at the door. James jumped up to open it, greeting his father with that same jocky attitude as Bradley yet Saul only looked at him with confusion.

“Who the hell are you? You ain’t my son?” Though he couldn’t help but notice the man before him bore a strange resemblance to Bradley in a way.

“Yeaaaahh… about that.” James persuaded Saul to come inside and sit down at the table with Lisa. As crazy as it all sounded they convinced Saul to hear James out.

“Well I made my way down to the gym to get a pump with my bro’s and…” he went onto explain how his routine went, chatting up a couple chicks in between exercises and what not. Typical jock bro stuff. “Then I saw that Seth nerd across the room working out…” he confessed to being a bit of dick to Seth while he was there until he finished his workout. “After that I went to my locker. Was about to get a shower, when BOOM! Seth slaps this weird ass handcuff on me!” James re-explained the handcuffs to Saul, saying how they’d somehow fused him and Seth into one dude. “It was super fuckin weird at first, like a part of me was thinkin one thing then another part was thinkin something else. I think our thoughts have started to match up a little now though and work together or some shit.”

Just like Lisa before, Saul was lost for words. This man sounded like a lunatic! Yet at the same time he spoke just like his son. It wqs also a slight shock for Lisa as he hadn’t sounded quite this… bro-ey(?) until Saul got here.

Naturally Saul didn’t fully believe this to be true at first just like Lisa. And similarly to the woman before him, he prompted James to say something that only he and Bradley would know.

"Alright Dad. Hmmmm…” James pondered for a moment. “Oh I got it! You remember that time when I bullied those nerds for the entire school camping trip and you punished me by leaving me to camp alone in the forest for 2 days? I didn't learn a fucking thing from that punishment! I just proved to you I could live out there on my own." James gloated, flexing an arm and laughing.

Saul was in shock. Was this man really his son somehow? Though thinking about it he looked to have the same physique, attitude and some familiar features that reminded him of Bradley. Though there were also many that he didn’t recognise as well like his smile, his glasses and slightly lesser tanned skin among other things. Had he actually merged with some nerdy dude that slapped some magic shit on him. It took him a while to process it all but once he did…

“So you’re telling me that my jock son is now fused with some scrawny nerd!? What’re you a fag now as well?!” Saul’s outburst was sort of expected but Lisa still scolded the man anyway. Telling him to not spout ill words towards her son, especially in their own house. James also knew that despite Bradley’s clear homophobia prior to ‘ejecting’ it the other day, Saul never had anything against gay men before now. Hence he gave his father the benefit of doubt. He was probably just overwhelmed right now. Though that didn’t mean he couldn’t tease his dad a little…

“Well… I guess you’re half right. I still love pussy but dude ass looks pretty good as well now dad I gotta say!” James said with a chuckle.

“Set-I mean James! No language like that in the house please!” His mother scolded. Well it was certainly going to be a madhouse around here from now on by the looks of things.

Eventually Lisa and James got Saul to sit and listen to the positives. Being merged with a nerd means they’d be much smarter together than Bradley ever was on his own. With that intelligence they’d be able to get a decent job that pays well unlike the handyman job that Bradley had to settle for. Plus his new son still looked like an ‘alpha jock’ just with a little less douchiness about him. Really it should be a win-win but Saul was still having a hard time accepting it right now.

Afterwards, James explained that they’re the only ones who remember him being two people and that for everyone else, reality had completely shifted. In a lot of ways this made things easier, they didn’t have to bother dealing with the disappearance of Seth and Bradley nor did they have to set up some new identity for James somehow. According to everyone else, James had lived a mixed life of experiences from both Bradley and Seth. It also seemed that a lot of people now thought Bradley’s dad and Seth’s mom had a fling back in the day which was how James came to be.

After some long discussion, the three came to the decision that James would stay with Saul for the time being but would frequently come back to Lisa’s house to keep things fair. With that James went to his old room in his moms house to find that it’d been left unchanged. He grabbed whatever gear he wanted from the room and packed it into a bag. Though he didn’t bother with any of the clothes as none of those would fit him now anyway. Once done, he headed back downstairs with his stuff and said his goodbyes to his mom before hopping in his dads car and heading back to his place.

The car ride was undoubtedly awkward, neither man knowing quite what to say to the other. Best James could do was try and make some small talk about the other night's soccer game but even that didn’t help much. Luckily it didn’t take long for them to pull up into Saul’s driveway. The pair jumped out of the car and headed inside, still barely speaking a word, before James made a B-line for his other bedroom.

Upon entering he could smell a distinct musk. The sweaty post work out smell of a man clouding the room from all the previous training Bradley had done when at home. Unlike his room at Lisa’s house, this one was much messier with dirty clothes littered about the floor, unkempt bed sheets, weights and exercise equipment just lying around and much more. It didn’t seem to bother James all that much to be honest but he was probably gonna tidy it up a little later. At least get hamper in here for some of those clothes.

With that James got himself settled in, unpacking all the stuff he’d brought and looking through the stuff in his current room. He ended up rooting through Bradley’s closet for clothes to try, even throwing on some of the dirty ones, then checking himself out in the full body mirror. Due to his slightly increased size from what Bradley had been, most of these clothes now fitted quite tightly. Not that he was complaining. He just loved the way his pecs strained against some of the tank tops and t-shirt’s as well as how many of the shorts did little to hide his huge muscle butt and hefty bulge. A bulge of which was growing bigger by the second as he continued to admire his merged body, especially when he was stood in nothing but one of Bradley’s dirty jockstraps that he’d recently used during football practice with the bros. Enjoying the way it framed his ass while a bit of precum seeped through the pouch, further staining it.

In no time James was sprawled out on his bed, jacking his monster cock furiously. So fucking horny for himself, groping every part of his body like he had been in gym showers earlier that day before thoughts of both men and women alike started running through his head. In his horny frenzy, James grabbed his phone and opened Grindr. He found the guy who’d messaged him yesterday, Matt, and started scrolling back through the photos he’d sent. Fuck he was so hot, James could’ve bust a load to that cute jock butt right then and there but he held off for a moment to message back.

— Hey man, thanks for the compliments. You’re super fucking cute as well! Would love to meet up soon so we can appreciate each-over in person 😏 —

He went back to jerking gently for a moment until he got a swift reply from Matt who seemed to be completely on board. He said the best day for him was this coming Thursday. Perfect! James had a date with the personal trainer Katie on Friday so he could get ass and pussy one after the other! With that he set it up with Matt before returning his full attention to jacking off.

As his hand continued to pump up and down the shaft however, James began to notice a certain haziness setting over him. At first he assumed it just just due to his sheer horniness but the feeling grew stronger as he came closer to orgasm. His mind was overtaken by it as he couldn’t help but bust a nut all over his pecs and abs.

Suddenly conflicting memories start to disappear from his mind. Memories of Seth giving up on his work outs years back and using a flesh light are ejected out in thick ropes of cum leaving only Bradley’s memories consistent working out instead and never having to use a flesh light because he always had a hole to fuck anyway. After that even more of Seth’s irrelevant overlapping memories were ejaculated one after the other.

Afterwards James simply sat chuckling to himself as he smeared the cum over his chest before licking some up. It was like his brain had just switched itself off and he could barely think at all, a thick cloud covering his thoughts. Little did James know that jacking off had caused the two consciousness’ inside his head to start mindfucking one another. Right now it was as if the inner Bradley was shoving his metaphorical cock into the inner Seth’s mouth, shooting copious amounts of 'psychic cum’ down his throat and filling Seth’s consciousness with tons of his jock-like traits. Slowly but surely transforming Seth’s inner self into more of a buff nerdy jock.

Time flew by as James continued to lay buck naked on his bed, laughing and touching his body all over in a sort of euphoric state. After about an hour or so his dad came into the room to see his new son sprawled naked and covered with dry cum. “Huhuhuhuh shoulda knocked dude.” He didn’t even try to cover himself as his dad cursed, covering his eyes before leaving and closing the door.

It wasn’t until about 4 or so hours had passed that he finally returned to his senses, confused as to why he was now standing doing bicep curls nude in front of the mirror. Despite his brain clearing up again though, he did feel different. Besides some of Seth’s memories he could no longer recall, he also felt a bit… dumber?

The rest of that evening went as awkwardly as you would imagine when James went down to watch the game with his dad, vaguely remembering what his dad had seen earlier. It was also pretty apparent that Saul hadn’t yet accepted him either. This prompted James to try and bond with his father any way he could. Mostly via the sport on TV and hopefully try to forget what happened earlier in the process…

———

Wednesday morning soon arrived. James awoke with a big yawn as he stretched before pulling himself out of bed. Looking at his wrists he noticed the merging bracelets that were still attached to him. To be honest he’d almost forgotten they were there. He remembered what the letter said about the merge being permanent if he broke them without wishing to defuse. It was honestly kind of tempting to break them right then and there. In the short time James had spent as himself, he already felt way better than either of his previous selves ever had. However, for now, he wanted to have a backup and so he instead just slipped them off and stored them away underneath his bedroom floorboards for safe keeping.

Now that was sorted, he’d already decided he was gonna spend most of today with his dad. He had to convince him that he was still his son! Though hopefully that shouldn’t be hard since he felt more like Bradley than ever after yesterday’s odd haze.

Immediately heading downstairs after getting dressed, James found his dad sitting at the table with a coffee in hand. Well, here goes nothing.

Across the course of the day James did everything he could to get his dad to accept him. They reminisced over old memories they shared, tossed a football around for awhile, drank beer together and many other manly father and son bonding activities James could think of. Saul still wasn’t all that keen at first but as the day went on he began to warm up a little. It was minor progress but it was better than nothing. Hopefully it wouldn’t be long before Saul was calling him ‘Son’ again. They managed to end the day on a high note before James later made his way back to his moms house. After all the address he’d given his hookup Matt was for his mother’s place.

Content with that day he’d had with his father, he walked inside and said hello to his mom. They chatted for a while about his day before he headed off to his room. He could tell his mom was still a little uneasy about the whole situation even if she was trying to hide it. He understood though. This was gonna take some time for both his parents.

He closed his bedroom door behind him and gazed over his other more nerdy looking bedroom. Part of him was tempted to jack his fat cock off again and bust some more jock nut like he had yesterday. He was definitely a little horny again but he honestly was too exhausted after today’s activities to bother. Instead he just collapsed onto the much smaller bed, allowing it to creak under his weight. It didn’t take long for him to doze off into a deep sleep.

———

Thursday came around and James awoke with a throbbing erection. Seems like after going 24 hours plus without jerking off, his cock was becoming restless. It took a lot of willpower to not satisfy the urge. Fortunately his desire to save his cum for tonight was greater than his urge to spill his load. He gave his thick shaft a couple tugs before trying his best to shove it into his shorts comfortably. A hard task for sure.

After heading back downstairs and grabbing some breakfast with his mom, James set off towards the gym to get his main workout in. Especially since he’d skipped it yesterday to hang with his dad.

Upon arrival he was welcomed by many other gym-goers, a lot of them he thought of as his bro’s. After that it was like muscle memory took over as he made his way over to each machine and pumped out set after set. Not to mention helping and encouraging his bros in between exercises. Fuck did he feel like he was in his element though. He felt just as Bradley always did! Barely having a thought passing through his head while pumping his already huge muscles with the sole goal of growing even bigger than he already was. Just the rush of proving how powerful he was by lifting some massive weights was causing blood to rush into his cock again. He just couldn’t control that thing!

Before long he finished his routine and went to shower off. While he was getting dried however, some of the other jocks and meatheads he’d been working out with offered him to come play some football with them on the local field.

“Let’s fucking do it bros!” He agreed with a grin.

Next thing he knew, he’d headed home to grab his football gear and the same jockstrap he’d been wearing the previous night. Then before long he was on the field tackling the other dudes while having the absolute time of his life!

They must’ve played for a couple hours as by the time he got back home it was already the late afternoon. He messaged Matt to be sure he was still coming, which Matt confirmed, before heading to his room to play some first person shooter games.

The time passed by pretty quickly and soon enough there was a knock on the front door. James rushed down to answer it before his mother could, delighted to see the man from Grindr he’d been talking to. He was cuter and even more handsome in person.

They chatted for a little while but it didn’t take long for James to lead him upstairs. As soon as the door was closed, they made out passionately for a good while. During which they started ripping off each other's clothes. Matt couldn’t stop himself grabbing at James’ arms and grinning as he felt just how huge and powerful they were. “Oh wow… you really are so fucking incredible…” He complimented as his hands continued to roam around the rest of James’ supersized muscle bod.

As Matt began squishing and squeezing at those massive pecs, James smirked down at him. “You look pretty incredible yourself you know…” he said before reaching round to squeeze Matt’s ass, earning a lustful yelp from the smaller man. The two couldn’t help but lock lips again, swapping spit with such aggressive passion. Then after finally breaking apart, James tossed Matt onto the undersized bed, stroking his massive cock to the cute jock before him. With a smirk Matt rolled over, exposing his tasty looking ass to really get James going.

Next thing they knew, Matt was leaning over the side of the bed and swallowing as much of the fat member before him as his throat could handle. James was sure to face fuck him hard and good before eventually hopping onto the bed himself, instantly jumping at the chance to eat out that juicy jock butt. Matt groaned out as his hole was licked and savoured by the hulking brute of a man, being prepared for what was to come.

After a couple minutes of teasing, the time had finally come. Once his cock was well lubed, James alined the tip with the tight hole presented before him. Matt begged him for it until he felt the tip push inside, both men groaning out in unison. Slowly but surely James delighted in pushing himself further inside until he was balls deep.

An hour or so must’ve passed by the time they finished. They were constantly switching positions, making out and admiring each overs bodies. Eventually though, despite the incredible stamina, everyone has a limit and Matt was the first to reach his. As his hole continued to be destroyed, now once again lying on his front with James pounding down into him, he groaned out and arched his back before his cock started nutting beneath him. That was James’ signal to finish up himself. Matt was then delighted to feel his ass suddenly fill with thick cum, James roaring out as he emptied the massive load his balls had stored.

While his balls unloaded, James then felt that familiar haze settling over him once again. His mind went numb as it got harder for him to think straight. During his orgasm even more memories began to vanish, this time from Bradley’s side. He shot out memories of Bradley failing most things back in high school and college. Not to mention somehow never being able to get a drivers licence. Leaving behind only Seth’s memories in those regards, getting grades ranging pretty good to amazing in most areas and having been able to drive for over 2 years now. Those among others of Bradley’s memories, all ejaculated in the load of cum that now resided within Matt’s hole.

Once again James’ two inner halves began mindfucking each over through the foggy haze. This time however, the roles were flipped. The jockier Seth was now the one receiving a passionate blowjob from Bradley, sucking out a bunch of Seth’s nerdier traits and transforming him into more of a nerdy jock mix similar to that of inner Seth. James’ two halves were becoming more and more alike by the day.

After all that intense fucking though James started drifting off to sleep, still on top of Matt who was just as exhausted. As his eyes fluttered shut, his inner Seth would only continue face fuck inner Bradley as they slept…

———

Upon waking James’ mind felt clear once again. The strange haze must’ve worn off in his sleep… but once again he felt different. Now he felt much smarter than before as if he were now channeling more of his Seth side. That must’ve been why he felt dumber and cockier before, because he was channeling Bradley. He must not have been quite as stable yet as he’d previously thought…

Laid beside him, Matt was still sleeping soundly. James couldn’t help but smile at how sweet the other man looked in that moment. He ended up wrapping an arm around the smaller but still well built man and cuddling with him. They got to lay in peace for a good half an hour or so before Matt finally began to stir awake.

The two had quite the pleasant morning chat, Matt even noting how James sounded a bit different now. Like the way he spoke sounded more intelligent. He guessed that James had been hiding it the previous night for whatever reason. As great of a time they were having though, Matt soon had leave since he was late for work. James watched while the man he bred last night yanked his clothes back on before James walked him downstairs and out of the house, waving him goodbye.

He’d never expected to like Matt quite as much as he did. Sure he was hot in all his photos but now after meeting him, he felt as though there was a deeper connection there. One he certainly wasn’t expecting. Maybe he should ask Matt on a proper date soon? Of course he already had his date with Katie to worry about first though. It’d only be fair to give her an equal chance.

The rest of the morning from that point went rather as you’d expect from James by this point… except for one thing.

He got dressed, had breakfast with his mother, then gathered his things for the gym before setting off. Though by this point he still had about an hour or so before needing to leave. So to pass the time he sat back in his bedroom and played some of Seth’s games. Games that would’ve been considered ‘geeky’ to a lot of his Jock friends but he couldn’t deny that he was having a blast!

That hour absolutely flew by and before long it was time for him to leave. After saying goodbye to his mom, James jogged to the gym as part of his warm-up before stepping inside.

He was ready for a pump.

Of course he spotted many of the other gym regulars whom he talked with as he trained. Talking to those guys did bring out a bit more of that bro-talk side to him but even they were still able to notice the strange shift in James’ tone since yesterday.

It was only about half way through his routine that Katie walked in at last. They’d agreed to meet here and leave for the nearby restaurant in town once they’d both finished. That certainly didn’t stop them from trying to chat each other up every time they passed one another though. In the end, James finished first and left for the locker room where he got a rinse off the showers and got changed.

Now he was simply sitting outside the gym waiting for Katie to finish up. Said waiting gave James a lot of time to think. Mainly about his parents.

Both his former selves had wished they could’ve had two parents rather than just one. More so Seth than Bradley but still. Now in a strange way he finally did! Although now it felt sort of like having divorced parents in a way. That’s when he came up with a plan.

James called up both his parents, asking them to come meet him and his date at the restaurant. After some persuasion over the phone, they both surprisingly agreed. Then once Katie had finished her workout and got cleaned up, the two headed to the restaurant themselves.

Upon arrival, James had already informed Katie of the situation. She was a tad weirded out by it at first but he was able to get her on board. Soon it wasn’t long before all four of them were seated at a table together. Turns out James’ big plan was in fact a double date in hopes that his parents would find some sort of a connection.

For sure it was a little awkward at first but as James and Katie flirted on their side of the table, Saul and Lisa gradually began to find common ground. Turns out the two actually did have a couple of common interests. They both enjoyed Rom-coms (Though Saul wouldn't always admit it) Baseball, Motorcycles and more!

“Hey, seems like my plan for those two is working. How’s about we leave them to it while you and I head to the Hotel across the street and… you know.” James thrusted his hips back and forth a little in his seat. Katie rolled her eyes while trying to hide an amused grin. They got up from the table after paying for their food and said to James’ parents that they were heading to the hotel. This of course invoked a slurry of embarrassing lectures about ‘safety’.

The young and horny pair arrived at the hotel in no time, getting themselves a room before rushing inside. The very second the door closed they were practically smashing their lips together, tongues exploring each other's mouths while their hands began to wander. Katie reached her hand under the back of James’ tank top, running her palm across his muscular back. James’ hand did something similar except going a little lower to feel her soft ass. The touching started gentle but quickly grew more animalistic on both ends. Katie wasn’t able to stop herself from squeezing and admiring James’ impressive muscle mass just as Matt had the prior night. Grabbing at his bulging arms and cannonball-like shoulders. James responded in kind, kneading both hands into her pillow of an ass before lowering himself a little more to get a feel of her thick feminine thighs.

Of course it wasn’t long before his focus turned to her chest as he got a good feel of her tits, chuckling a tiny bit as he played with them. Katie smirked “Alright, my turn now” She stated before reaching out and groping James’ huge pecs, poking and prodding at the muscle. “Yours are even bigger than mine.” She joked.

The two threw off the last of their remaining clothes, revealing James’ hard pulsing cock and Katie’s wet needy pussy. They interlocked their lips once more as Katie jumped up into James’ arms, wrapping her legs around his waist with one of James’ hands on her ass for support.

He carefully aligned his massive shaft with her core before gently pressing it inside inch by inch. Katie cried out in delight as his cock pressed against her pussy walls, stretching her more and more as James buried himself as deep as possible. He tilted himself back a little before starting to move his hips, slowly thrusting in and out. He used his knowledge gained from Bradley’s numerous conquests to make sure he pressed himself inside in just the right way to make her scream with lust.

James continued to fuck Katie in his arms for a good few minutes before the two hopped onto the hotel bed. The flexible young woman spread her legs nice and wide before pressing James’ face into her pussy. He proceeded to eat her out with pleasure, loving the taste of her juices as it smeared across his face.

As one can imagine this scene went on for some time. Pussy eating, dick sucking, tit jobs and all sorts of fuck positions. But sooner or later James was bound to reach the end of his rope. They finished with Katie on top of him, James’ holding her by the hips and waist to assist her in bouncing up and down. She could tell the jock was getting close by the increased grunts and inconsistent pace of his upward thrusts. Well she was on the pill so… what the hell. Katie bounced on his cock a few more times before pressing herself as far down as she could handle, moving herself around on top to massage the dick inside her from every angle. James was sent over the edge, groaning out as he unleashed a wave of cum.

It happened again. The haze. It glazed over James’ mind once more. In the load he shot out various inferior memories from not one but both sides of himself that conflicted with his merged self. While this happened, the separate consciousness of Bradley and Seth mindfucked one another once again. This time though they were fucking each over in the 69 position. They shot load after load after load of ‘psychic cum’ into one another. Constantly filling one another with parts of their individuality. Shooting over and over until that individuality started to fade as the inner Seth and Bradley slowly became more and more indistinguishable from each other. Before long even they started to fuse, merging consciousness into one singular entity as well. Melding them together until they were no longer Seth and Bradley on the inside. They were simply just James.

———

For a while everyone was a little worried when James began acting strange for the first two days after that night. Turns out that last haze lasted way longer than the others. He started acting like the dumbest gym bro around for at least 48 hours. Once it wore off however, James had evolved in the most incredible way possible. His two inner selves, after swapping and sharing so many personality traits and memories, had eventually become identical and merged into one. No more were there two voices in his head directing him, only one unified voice. No more Seth. No more Bradley. Only James.

Unfortunately Katie saw a little bit too much of the hazed out James and decided she didn’t wanna see him anymore. Guess she didn’t wanna date a guy who all of sudden seemed as dumb as a brick. Of course he was a little upset by this but it did make things easier. He enjoyed the short time he’d spent with her but in the end he didn’t feel the same sweet connection he’d felt with Matt. Luckily for James, he’d slept through the second haze and Matt hadn’t seen him as he’d went through that third one. And so… he called him.

The two met up again and had a nice proper date this time around where they got to know each other much better. They didn’t fuck on that date however. James had to make up some sort of excuse as he wasn’t sure if he’d haze out and turn into a dumb brute again.

So later that night he tested it by busting a huge load to some porn and… nothing happened. Besides covering himself in cum that is. After that you best believe James fucked Matt’s brains out post their next date. Afterwards he even got Matt to top him! He could tell the cute smaller jock was having the time of his life pounding James’ thick muscle ass. Though, thanks to Bradley’s inherited virgin hole, he felt so fucking tight at first. It took him a long while to loosen up properly for Matt’s dick.

———

Since then it’s been about a year. After a few more successful dates, Matt and James decided to start dating properly as boyfriends and they got on incredibly well. They were always laughing and having fun, James even getting Matt into a couple of his nerdy games. They loved to fuck as much as possible and enjoyed going to the gym together. Matt had even put on a fair amount of extra muscle because of James’ encouragement and gentle guidance.

That wasn’t the only good news though. Turns out James’ plan had worked after all. After that double date he’d had with his parents, they’d started to see more and more of each over. At first they came up with the excuse that it was for their shared son but before long the two couldn’t deny they were developing feelings for one another. James was thrilled for them! It really seemed like everything had come together perfectly at last. And to think none of this would’ve been possible had Seth not bought those merging handcuffs on a whim…

Saying that, James finally decided it was time. He headed into his bedroom at his fathers house and found the merge bracelets he’d hidden all that time ago. He stared down at the objects that’d created him before holding them together, proceeding to break them both clean in half with one effortless motion. Since he didn’t wish to split, the fusion was officially made permanent. No way to return. He didn’t want to. His life now was far better than his previous two had ever been. He had two parents that were falling in love. He had a beautiful boyfriend by his side. He was smart as hell, had gotten himself a great job and still had a massive incredible body.

James was here to stay. Forever.

276 notes · View notes

ericscroptop · 23 days ago

Text

Teacher’s Pet

✧ pairing: student teacher! eric x fem student! reader

✦ genre: smut

✧ warnings: 18+ (minors DNI), smut, male receiving, filthy oral sex, hand job, so much spit, dirty talk, praising, pet names, cursing, kissing, filthy, obsessive reader, power imbalance? public sex? like one comment of degradation (reader is called a slut once), perverted, nasty, messy reader and eric

✦ word count: 5.7k words

✧ synopsis: you’re in your own world, not really a social butterfly and just going about your business in focusing on your education. that is, until your professor’s student teacher catches on to how you’re not so innocent and proper after all.

✦ note: if this type of pairing bothers you, then do not engage! always remember that all my work is purely fiction.

˚₊· ͟͟͞͞➳❥ ˚₊· ͟͟͞͞➳❥ ˚₊· ͟͟͞͞➳❥ ˚₊· ͟͟͞͞➳❥ ˚₊· ͟͟͞͞➳❥ ˚₊· ͟͟͞͞➳❥ ˚₊· ͟͟͞͞➳❥ ˚₊· ͟͟͞͞➳❥ ˚

Thursday. The day of the week you looked forward to the most.

Every Tuesday and Thursday, you had a Geology lecture to attend.

The course was held during the evening, meaning class would end while it was dark out now because of the recent time change. You kinda hated that.

This course also had no real relation to your major. It wasn’t of any interest to you. You needed a generic science credit, so you had to take it as one of your requirements to graduate.

While picking classes and scheduling for the semester, you happened to have no other choice than to pick this Geology class.

In all honesty though, the content and course in itself wasn’t too bad. Sometimes, lessons of the different types of rocks or volcanoes did activate your brain. Only sometimes.

And, the reason you looked forward to coming to class every Thursday was because your professor was accompanied by a special guest: Eric Sohn.

Your professor had a teaching assistant to work alongside him. You’ll never forget the first day you were introduced to him. You’ve genuinely never seen anyone more handsome than him in your entire life.

Eric Sohn served as one hunk of a man. It’s so shallow and shameful of you to reduce him to sole eye candy, but how could you help it?

There was a juxtaposition between him and other teachers you’ve had in the past.

First things first, he’s a graduate student. He has to be only a few years older than you. Right off the bat, he was obviously more intriguing than the other old geezers (no offense) and middle-aged professors that worked here.

His looks also will immediately hit you like a truck with just one tiny peek at him. The features he was blessed with were hypnotic. His face was crafted beautifully, having honey skin that highlighted those sharp features of his.

On most occasions, thick black frames perched over his prominent nose. He also never slacked off with his outfits, coming to class every week in business casual attire that seemed more elevated with that pretty face of his and unique details.

What made him stand out apart from his handsome and youthful face were the unique coverings that painted and pierced through his skin and body.

The curved barbell on his left eyebrow, silver hoops dangling from his earlobes, and classic black ink that covers one of his forearms makes him look far from ordinary.

It fits him perfectly, bringing the Gen Z out of him that makes him easily stand out in the crowd.

You’re lucky that college exposes you to many cool-looking people. Even so, you never thought one of those people you find ever so alluring, would be one of your teachers.

Your observant-ass only further ate up anything you could pick up on or read based off his mannerisms and speech. He’d sometimes take over the lectures, leading the class instead of your main professor. You dissected the way his hands would relax into his pockets, him push his glasses up now and again, and him suck in a small breath in between talking.

Today was no different than any other time he’s present in class. You attended this course twice a week, but Eric only made an appearance on Thursdays. So you made sure to cherish that hour and thirty minutes in the same room as him extra well.

When you walked into your class and took your spot in your unassigned-assigned seat in the second to first row, you quickly noticed your main professor wasn’t present. So unlike him.

As soon as everyone settled and class begun, Eric announced that your other professor had private matters to take care of that prevented him from coming to campus today, so he’d be in full-force charge of lesson for the day.

Every other time, Eric sat on the sidelines and if he did take over class, it would be under the guidance of your other professor— or for mere assistance.

All the attention would be drawn to him, and for some reason, that made you all giddy inside.

And not to kiss his ass just because of your colossal crush on him, but he gave smooth-tongued lectures. He was an expert on the lessons he gave, very informative and not just reading straight off a powerpoint or textbook.

Maybe his looks played a major role in why you pay attention during lectures, but he really had a way of speaking.

His delivery of the material was satisfying. He’s just as well qualified to teach at the level your older professor does. Furthermore, he’s quite the entertainer, mindlessly throwing witty commentary and fun analogies with his lectures.

He knew how to keep students engaged. Without trouble he brought smiles and laughter to your faces, even getting students to willingly participate.

You on the other hand, stayed on the down low. Funny, ‘cause there isn’t much to hide when your class was on the smaller side— not auditorium-level, the amount of girls in the room could be counted with one hand as this is a male-dominated class, and you chose to sit close to the front.

Still, you remained to stay as a background character, allowing room for the regular extroverts to ask and answer questions and engage in conversations. You weren’t really the type to speak up, and kept to yourself.

Nonetheless, you still paid attention like the rest.

You stayed busy anyways with how your mind ran laps with the various daydreams you envisioned. Eric Sohn served as the main love interest of your created scenarios, constantly sweeping you off your feet and doing things to you that were anything but holy.

Poor you, always in your head, day-dreaming like it’s a disease. Eating away at your brain with fantasies about someone you definitely cannot have, and definitely does not see you in the way you view him. He must already have a lover at home, or he knows he’s hot shit and has everyone wrapped around his finger.

Your thoughts were like that of a young teenager, filled with thirsty fantasies of someone you shouldn’t even dare to see in that way. It’s so hard though; He’s too easy on the eyes.

However, you wouldn’t act on those fantasies, certainly. That’d be ridiculous. But a girl could dream.

During lecture, you diligently took notes while retaining every word and detail that leaves his mouth.

The air in the classroom today was rare. He was in control and in focus, sparking your senses even more than usual.

As much as you tried to tame your dreamy, indecorous thoughts, they couldn’t be kept quiet. You watched the man you crushed on stride while lecturing, hands clasped together and using them to gesture while speaking, making the bracelets adorning his wrists jingle slightly.

His eyes would roam around in front of him as he spoke, not focusing on anything in particular unless he was looking at the projector screen, or person who answered or asked a question.

If his eyes happened to land on you even for a split second, holding contact until he fleeted them away, a hot sensation shot up your body, palms quickly sweaty.

That further provoked you, mindlessly chewing on the end of your pen in attempt to stabilize your heart rate and mind.

You had to be an embarrassment to society, geeking out over your hot student teacher as if you were an immature teenager. Here you were, squealing internally inbetween note-taking, striving to keep your hormones under control.

He’s just too damn attractive for your own good. How can you not yearn for him and ogle, even letting your eyes zero in and lower down towards his cro—

“See you guys next week! Have a good and safe weekend. Don’t forget to stay warm, it’s getting chillier.” Eric’s voice snaps you out of your perverted trance.

Quickly, the sounds of students rising from their seats and items being packed echoed the room. Some were eager to flee out, not hesitating in heading towards the door.

A quiet sigh lets out your mouth. Whether it be from exhaustion, relief, or getting the ick from your feelings— who knows?

You’re just ready to get back to your place, have some dinner, and fall deep into sleep. When you start to get a couple steps out from your row though, a voice catches your attention.

“Miss, Y/L/N?”

You stopped in your tracks.

“Can you stay for a bit? There’s something I want to discuss with you.”

Your heart dropped to your ass.

“Sure!” you voiced, calmly walking towards the front of the room where he stood. On the inside, you were anything but that.

You cannot recall a time that you were asked to stay after for something you’re unaware of. You’ve barely had any real interactions with your professor, let alone the student teacher. So what could this possibly be about?

Everyone else exited aside from yourself and three students who were talking to Eric. You’d figure people would wanna bolt out of class as soon as possible, but there was always those students that had burning questions post-lecture. Or in this case, simply wanted to linger longer to chat it up with the coolest guy ever.

You timidly stood on the sidelines, patiently waiting for them to wrap up their conversation.

With each second that passed, it made you even more anxious. Not only did you have to chat with your professor about God knows what, but it’s with the guy that unknowingly lives in your mind rent free.

In the time it takes to wrap it up with your classmates, you’re starting to prepare yourself for the worst-case scenario. Recently, you had written and submitted a two-page report, paired with a powerpoint on a particular landmark. Honestly, the requirements for it weren’t too strict, and it was certainly nothing compared to the ten-page paper you had to write for a different course.

But, you did write it last minute, and you had a habit of taking things from the internet and just rearranging the sentence structure.

There’s a chance that he wants to chat with you to reprimand you for your work. Oh, God. If you find yourself in a case of plagiarism, you don’t know what you’ll do with yourself. You’re getting queasy just picturing it. He needs to hurry up and get this over with since you’re shitting bricks while—

“Hey, so, I wanted to talk about your recent report.”

Fuck. Here we go.

“Your report was phenomenal. I read yours already— I have yet to put in the grades, but yours was probably the best in the class.”

Huh?

He’s commending you? In-person over an amateur, half-assed assignment that was nothing in comparison to actual, well-written research reports.

I mean, it is worth a decent percentage of your grade, but still…

“Oh— wow, uh, thanks. I didn’t think it was that impressive.” there’s a mix of surprise, confusion, and relief within your tone. You give him a shy smile, loosely playing with your fingers. Your eyes don’t dart away from his, though. It’d be disrespectful to do so, and as much as the shared gaze made your body roar in flames, you needed to remain nonchalant.

“Please, you’d be surprised how many college students can’t write for the life of them.” he scoffs, smiling at the thought. It prompts you to laugh softly. You swear you see sparkles in his eyes, and that gorgeous smile of his has your heart skipping beats.

“It’s refreshing to read some good stuff. Especially from a student like yourself.”

Your eyes widen just a tad at that, not going unnoticed by Eric.

“You’re not as outspoken or talkative as the others— at least, not in class. Which, I totally get. But, it’d be nice to hear more from you.”

You still give him a polite smile, sorta sheepish at his words. It is true that you remain on the quieter side. There was a severe lack of participation from you. Curse your timidness.

“It’s always the quiet ones that always work the hardest.”

That has you blushing hard. Your unattainable crush acknowledging you and going as far as to personally applaud you for efforts you thought went unnoticed.

To be experiencing this is like a dream; You don’t want to wake up.

Even if you outwardly denied it or just shyly smiled and brushed it off on the exterior, on the inside, it boosted your confidence and made you feel like you were worth something via the eyes of someone else.

Any compliment given to you had you eating it up, craving more even after you digested it. Constantly seeking validation in any form.

“I’ve heard that it’s also the quiet ones with a colorful imagination… and are the freakiest.”

Now that gets the smile on your face to slowly falter, looking at him all paralyzed, while he just casually dips his hands in his pockets, all relaxed as if he didn’t just insinuate something outlandish.

“Wouldn’t you agree?” he nods, you still confused.

“I’m sorry, what?” you nervously laughed. If you weren’t mistaken, you’d believe he was being suggestive. Provocative, perhaps? But this couldn’t be.

He has to laugh back, amusement etched in his features at your expression. Unfortunately you seem oblivious, but luckily for you, he’s not.

“Don’t act so coy, now.” he takes a small step forward, but it’s still enough to close distance between you two. Your heart’s palpitating.

“Or are you really clueless?” he cocks his head, allowing his eyes to freely rake over your form.

The height difference isn’t striking, but his glaring makes you feel rather small. You’ve indulged in the fantasy you’ve created of him having you as he wished and vice versa in your head. But the possibility of it unveiling behold you is… hard to swallow.

“You’re not so subtle with that little act you’ve got going on. I see the way you look at me.”

Fuck.

Now is when you panic. Your face is turning red hot, and there’s this dizzy feeling that’s bestowing upon you in hearing that he’s aware of your gawking. The desire to run away and bury yourself into a hole is vastly strong right now. But there’s no escaping from this.

“Mr. Sohn, I’m really sorry… I— I’m so sorry if I made you uncomfortable… This is really inappropriate of me.” by this point, your eyes were growing heavy, flickering with tears threatening to break out. This was so shameful, and there’s really nothing you can do to save yourself from your disgusting behavior.

However, it surprises you when he doesn’t start spitting out rightfully-deserved berates.

Instead, his hands fly up to hold your shoulders.

“Hey, hey…. Who said it made me uncomfortable.” he utters softly while holding you, making you bite your lip to keep yourself stable. His touch and what he says has you looking at him all misty-eyed, perplexed to say the least.

He wets his lips with his tongue and snickers, looking off to the side before locking his vision back to you.

“The way you look at me and my bulge is really fucking hot.”

It feels like your ears are playing tricks on you. This has to be some sort of test, or maybe you’re too caught up in your head that this feels real.

He gestures his hand out for you to grab it, and while hesitant at first, you do. He directs your hand over his crotch, pressing it over the area.

You gasp silently in shock that you’re actually feeling his clothed dick. Eric lowly breathes, eyes still on you with a visible appetite. Your gaze wobbles from his eyes to where your hand rested underneath his.

His manhood’s seemingly begging to be let free from his slacks, cock kissing your hand through the layers with a gnawing throb.

“Is this what you want?”

This sounded like a straight-up Wattpad fantasy. Shit like this actually happened in real life? Eric Sohn was making a move on you, being so risqué. And what makes it worse is that you’re falling for it, as this is all you’ve ever hoped for.

“You really want me like this?” that’s really the best response you could come up with. There’s a possibility he’s playing tricks on you. He could be teasing you and then turn this into some sick joke.

But he continues to leer over the length of your body, particularly lingering over your chest. Mentally you hi-fived yourself for deciding on a low-cut top today. Though, having this sudden ravenous attention on you made you want to disintegrate. How can you handle this heat?

His eyes soften for a moment, grinning while moving a hand to grab hold of your chin gently. Your breathing practically stills at the contact with starry eyes.

“‘Course, baby. You’re gorgeous.” he breathes out, making you purse your lips to prevent yourself from smiling like an idiot. Your cheeks on the other hand, are definitely blushing like a bitch.

His thumb slides faintly over your cheek until it’s dangerously close to your lips, hanging just on the corner of your mouth.

“Will you show me how good of a girl you are and blow me?” his breath fans out in front of you, pussy pulsing from his plead.

Your lips part in surprise. His utterance makes you go blank, and you only stare at him with a gaze that asks if this is crossing the line.

But with the way you haven’t protested against his behavior thus far, and having knowledge of your feelings towards him, that’s enough to tell him that you’re intrigued and willing to get dirty.

He should make sure to have your verbal consent, though.

The tip of his thumb fully lands on your bottom lip, beginning to strum slowly at the appendage. His eyes are overcast with carnal desire, while yours are too entranced on him, battling with yourself to not close them, for you fear you’ll miss out on what’s in front of you.

“Words, hon.” he says sweetly. This overwhelming feeling to give yourself to him and let him have it crashes over you. The idea of this gorgeous man blessing your mouth and throat with his cock sounds heavenly.

Now that you’re living your wildest dream, put into this position, looking into his eyes up close, you’re blind to any morality. Having his attention like this makes you want to submit to anything he has to say.

You’re not thinking about how wrong this is, or how it may make you seem whorish to willingly give yourself up to him like a naive girl.

You just need to have a taste of him.

“Wanna suck you off. More than anything.” deep inside your soul and in the back of your mind, indignity resides there. But, you have this chance to be sexually frisky with this man. There was no way in hell you could pass this up.

He gives you a satisfied smirk at your answer, dropping his hand from your face and giving you a nod.

“On your knees.” he instructs.

Despite your confident words, your heart’s pounding. You find his attractiveness intimidating, so as weak and desperate as you are for him, you hope he be the same for you.

You kneel down in front of him, ignoring the cold, dusty floor that you fall upon. Your hands rest over your thighs, orbs overlayed with vulnerability and form ready to offer yourself.

Eric wastes no time, the unbuckling and loosening of his belt ringing in your ears. You swear you start to feel arousal pool in your panties just from that.

His pants drop to his ankles shortly after, eye-level with his dick that pushes up against his briefs, looking tight and bulky.

You shift slightly and blink anxiously. Although your core is whirling in excitement, you turn to the door of the classroom, praying nobody walks in or will be aware of what’s about to happen in this very room.

Eric understands, but he needs your mouth now before any more anxieties get to you. And he’s already falling for the temptation of you sat like a good girl for him, all pretty-faced with your breasts perked out, proving his neediness for you even more.

“This is all between me and you, baby girl. Don’t act so innocent now. Put those thoughts into action.” he says softly while palming himself, groaning softly while he gives himself a few caresses.

That beautiful sound of his gets you to whimper weakly, making him raise a brow and chuckle at the ounce of sound.

“Want me to make your dreams come true, hon?” Hm?”

You wet your lips and plead with your eyes before reminding yourself to use that mouth of yours as well. “Let me help you.” you murmured.

That cues him to free his cock, briefs joining his pants at the bottom while his entire length springs up, meeting it in all its glory.

Eric grabs it, tauntingly waving it in front of you, your pupils following and processing his hefty size, especially fixating on his pink tip.

“It’s all yours. Have at it.” with that, he lets go of his shaft and you reach to let it grace your dominant hand, starting off with a light hold.

The feeling of your hand over his length has his breath hitching, more so when your finger tips start outlining a vein and caressing his cock skin, getting comfortable with him.

His bottom is leaning against the teacher’s desk, hands holding onto the edge of it as you finally touch him with your lips. You drag and pucker your lips to greet his cock calmly at first, giving his tip nice kisses and tasting it by tonguing at his slit.

That causes him to hiss and provide you with a lazy smile.

“Cute, hmm… Sweet girl.” he coos, mesmerized when you give his blushed tip one last smooch before letting your tongue hang out to smooth it over the underside of his length, dragging it all the way to the top and flashing him with a seductive gaze.

You left behind your saliva and savored the taste of his skin, treating his shaft like the yummiest popsicle you’ve been dying to try.

Eric’s lips part, hissing out a curse word at that dangerous, sultry look of yours as you lick up on him. That dirty side of you that you kept veiled is coming out for him to see.

The chance to comment on your teasing is ripped away from him when you suddenly envelop your lips around his head, one hand on his base gripping him with just enough effort while your mouth got to sucking some of his cock to start off.

It makes him immediately throw his head back, throat rumbling from the sensation, cock fluttering.

Your movements are not rushed at all to begin with, stroking his cock with your mouth at a calm rhythm and stopping for a second when you reached his tip again. Repeating this process a couple times.

You stayed with this pace until you felt the need to take a minor break, removing yourself entirely from his length to take a breather.

You licked your lips and still gave him stimulation with your hand while you were off, lubricating him with the saliva you’ve left behind and ensuring to spread the precum that’s shining from his tip.

“I knew you’d treat me good…. Little vixen.” he compliments you, bringing a hand to one side of your head, holding some hair that threatened to cover that gorgeous face of yours.

You stretched your body up, squeezing your thighs together and breasts to express how turned-on this got you.

Bubbles of spit emerged from your lips as you looked up at him with pouty-eyes, honeyed look such a contrast from the dirty work your mouth’s doing.

With a hand still resting on the side of your face, he guides your mouth back to his shaft.

Readily, you open up and take him into your moist entrance, grabbing hold of his thighs for security while you allow him to take control of your movements.

Eric’s incapable of holding out against the urge to push his hips towards the source that’s granting him divine pleasure. So, he thrusts into your mouth and you allow it, accommodating to being driven deeper by relaxing your jaw and sticking out your tongue.

He bobs you over his cock repeatedly, every other couple shoves closer to his end than the last.

Your lips sucked and squeeze his girthy length, saliva building up as you sucked him off, creating wet sounds. The farther he pushed you, it felt like you were swallowing him. His fat cock buried inside your mouth, making you whimper at the fullness that consumed you.

“Shhhhh… Be good for me, sweetie. You can take it, yeah?” he coaxes, pushing you further and stopping once your mouth was fully stuffed and nose touched his pubic bone.

Choking on his entire cock dazed you, trying your best to remain calm and let him hold you for a bit in this position before you needed fresh air.

The groans of his were gratifying, altering your brain chemistry from his sounds and having him shove your throat full of his fatty meat. You wanted to prove to him that you deserved this. That you’re a girl he’ll never forget.

He pulls you off after some seconds pass, hand falling to his side and you immediately gasped for air, brows knitted together as you coughed. You were slobbering, spit raining down your chin.

You hate wasting time though so once you collect yourself, you dive down towards his ballsack, navigating your tongue along his sack and lower shaft, licking up on him with a teasing smile and breathy laugh.

You then starts to kiss his balls affectionately, sucking them with eager in between. Nose-deep into his sack, his wet shaft taps your head, your insides swirling from indulging in his package.

“Cock drunk, aren’t ya, eh? he sneers, amused by your head game and breathing heavily from such.

You simply continue smiling, and stick your tongue out. Eric grabs hold of his cock, slapping his tip over it lightly three or four times, you humming at this heavy feeling.

Your core shivers from his dark, dilated eyes blaring down into you. In front of you, Eric’s enjoying the view and service you provide to him. Being on your knees, face growing messier by the second, seeing the sneak peek of your tits in that top, and that cheeky smile of yours is driving him mad.

He knows for a fact that you’re gonna make him bust soon.

Ardently, your mouth finds itself closing over his length again. A hand of yours holds his wet base while you go to town on him, blowing only halfway and flicking your tongue back and forth.

Eric’s so greedy, and decides to challenge you once more by grabbing a fistful of some of your hair to have a hold on you. He doesn’t aggressively pull on you, though. He just wants to keep you in just the right spot while he starts boning into your mouth again.

He bites down on his bottom lip before letting go to part his lips in bliss, moaning from your increased sounds of slurping and squelching. It’s insanely hot and wet, fucking up his senses in the best way possible.

“You may act like a sweetheart, but you suck cock like a fucking slut.” he grunts out, getting your pussy to clench from him referring to you as such. You’d suck his dick like a slut for him any time, any where.

His free hand maneuvers to your chin, holding you even more fastened. He doesn’t let up dragging you over his length, having hold on you to keep you just where he wants you.

Tears brim your eyes, vision blurry as you swallow and are stuffed full of girthy cock. He face fucks you into oblivion, incessantly bullying your throat. There’s a chance he’d bruise your soft palate, but getting him off meant more than temporary pain.

The amount of spit that soaked his manhood had you gurgling, splash-like sounds on repeat like a song. Those smutty noises push his drive even more, chasing after the high that’s calling to him. Almost there.

You moaned and hummed around him. Partly because you were also aroused at the sounds being produced, but also because your jaw was sorta starting to burn. There was no intent on stopping, though.

“Fuck, you feel so good, baby girl.” his throat rumbles, largely from the vibrations of your moans stimulating his shaft further.

Air was getting knocked our of your lungs, and he further pushed your limits by bringing your face against his pubic bone again. Your lips stretched out as far as you could get them to, nose squished against his skin, with your bottom lip and chin touching his sack.

His cock fully down and inside the canal of your mouth/throat has him spacing out, consumed in the feeling of you taking care of his beloved manhood incredibly well.

Tears burn your eyes and one or two even manage to slip down to your cheek. His girthy cock is jammed-packed in your mouth, feeling clogged up and overloaded. It has you pressing your nails sharply into the skin of his thighs. Eric releases guttural groans, motivating you to stay strong.

After a moment, he kindly pulls you off. You’re tugged off with a large heave paired with choked mewls. Bubbles and foam of your drool slip down his length, tears staining your cheeks from the intensity.

Your face is definitely fucked up thanks to his cock, but Eric looks down at you with heavy lidded eyes, mesmerized by the ironically holy sight that looks so attractive from his perspective.

“Pretty girl.”

You whimpered at his remark, inching over to his balls to hide yourself and finish your job. You’re growing tired, but you sensually kiss and suckle some more at his hefty sack, ensuring to provide them with equal attention.

You could swear this gets him to let free a whimper, and so you persist with playing with them. You burrow and brush your nose and mouth against his balls, dreamy smile radiating your features.

Eric in concert grabs a hold of his cock, stroking and gripping himself in the right spots. He pumps his slippery shaft, head spinning from the touches, cock growing more stiff and breathing as heavy as ever.

“Shit, almost there.” he rasps, all tensed.

“Lemme cum down your throat.” he requests, knowing that it will be rapturous.

Plus, it would be easier to empty out down your throat instead of on your face, or anywhere else.

Eager to drain him dry, you swiftly swing up and over his shaft one last time.

Hard, but lazily, he jerks and twitches in your mouth, dominant hand holding onto your hair strands. He grunts and growls while exploding spurts of his seed inside your mouth.

Your eyes are shut, soaking in the sensation of him impregnating your mouth.

His hard cock pulsates, cum blazing as it releases. When he finally stops twitching, you swipe your tongue over his tip to make sure every last drop ends up in the right place.

He pulls out, his labored breathing serving as background noise while you swirl the thick consistency of his nut around, savoring him before letting it all slide down your throat.

You covered your mouth politely while swallowing, (even though there’s no point in being well mannered after giving him an untamed blow job) ensuring none of it spills out and all travels down you esophagus.

His body and psyche feels weak after orgasming, and his spine shivers while he catches his breath, but he still attempts to look at you: blinking in a daze, sniffling and licking at your lips.

Paired with messy, out-of-place hair, there’s a big ring around your mouth and nose area that no longer matches the rest of your face. He throat-fucked most of your makeup off, making him chuckle at your appearance and appreciating your devoted labor.

“You’re so fuckin’ sexy. Wish you could see yourself right now.” he says in awe.

“Lemme see, open wide for me.” he then refers to showing him that you drank him up all the way.

Obeying, you open and stick out your tongue, giving him that proud look of a girl who swallowed every last bit of cum given to her.

“That’s a good girl. A really good girl.” he smirks, letting a hand down to the top of your head, patting your head delicately.

That has your cheeks swelling in fulfillment, cunt just as happy to hear that praise from the way it tingles.

His hand slithers lower towards your mouth, swiping affectionately at your corner. Although you already showed how strongly you felt about him with your head game, you impulsively grabbed that same hand. You direct it to your lips, kissing the skin of his knuckles, eyes remaining on him as you dropped those soft pecks.

Through his glasses, you can see lust and fascination present in his eyes. More strings start pulling him towards you, past the literal strings of saliva that attached you to his cock earlier.

To your surprise, he falls to the ground, now leveled with you.

“You okay, hon?” he coos suddenly, realizing he hasn’t respectfully checked in on if you were alright from what just went down.

Your eyes soften when his do, and you twinkle at him. “Yeah.” you murmured.

He observes your blotchy, smudged, and streaked face again, biting his lower lip with a broad smile.

“Such a messy baby.” That was so hot. So good for me.”

In the blink of an eye, his lips are on yours. While a bit shocked, you fall smoothly into the kiss gladly. He kissed you tenderly, passion burning through the movement of one another’s appendages. You were kissing Eric Sohn. Your student teacher.

“Whatcha say we go back to my place and get you cleaned up and taken care of, hm? Sound good?”

This is all unethical, but how could you pass this up? Nothing mattered except for the man you just gave the sloppiest top to. This is pathetic of you, but you needed more of him. And you reckon he wants to get to know more of you, too.

“Okay.” you grinned.

˚₊· ͟͟͞͞➳❥ ˚₊· ͟͟͞͞➳❥ ˚₊· ͟͟͞͞➳❥ ˚₊· ͟͟͞͞➳❥ ˚₊· ͟͟͞͞➳❥ ˚₊· ͟͟͞͞➳❥ ˚₊· ͟͟͞͞➳❥ ˚₊· ͟͟͞͞➳❥ ˚

#ericscroptop #eric sohn #the boyz #tbz eric #eric sohn imagines #eric sohn x reader #eric smut #eric sohn smut #eric the boyz #eric sohn scenarios #the boyz imagines #tbz x reader #tbz smut #the boyz smut #tbz fanfic #kpop smut #kpop imagines #kpop

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messyhairedhazeleyeddude · 1 year ago

Text

━━━━╝‘ I bet you think about me ’╚━━━━━

A Denji x Fem!Innocent!Reader | A little fluff + SMUT

Contents ; Innocent reader, pervert Denji (nothing changed), peer pressure, corruption, tons of suggestive innuendos, groping, heavy mention of titties, titty-sucking, PDA, guided handjob, thighjob, pornography, non-stop fucking, and obsessive behavior.

A/N ; MYYYYYY FAVORITE! This dude has been deep in my heart ever since I was introduced into CSM. And now, I place the dude above everyone on my preferred list of characters. Especially cause I relate to the man so much. He’s too careless for his own good at times, BAHAHAHAHAH. Okay, enough of me rambling, appreciate my boy and my fine story by reposting and commenting. Whatever you’re feeling for, little readers.

Dynamic ; Kind of FWB?? to Lovers

Sexual Dynamic ; Dom!Denji | Sub!Fem!Reader

P.O.V ; First & Third

Age range ; 18+

Music suggestion ;

[ Denji’s P.O.V ; ]

Today was supposed to be ordinary. Power talked her ass off most of the morning, I would chime in once in a while to joke, and Aki spouted shit at me for everything and anything I did. That’s how it went on in the apartment we lived in. In the middle of the day, we would head for the headquarters. Go back to the stressful life of a Devil Hunter.

But for me, that was nothing. I was more than happy to return to work. A lot of my co-workers complained on and on, sure you get your hands a little bloody, although most of us didn’t care about the slaughtering. It’s not like they were human. Not including the people that got in my way, that was not my fault!

All I knew is that if it meant I got to be entertained by a girl like Makima and fulfill the desires I’ve been dreaming about, that’s cool with me. And the power from Pochita was a huge plus.

Yeah, it was supposed to be another one of those days. Makima would’ve given me a case to solve had it been. But, instead, I was staring at her from across the room, talking to another girl who I didn’t recognize. Hell, was she beautiful though.

Her silky {H/C} hair looked recently done, styled into a braided half ponytail with bangs in the front. Long lashes framing her {E/C}, sweet eyes; the smile she had was enough for me to tell that she would spoil a man to his heart’s content. When my eyes drifted down her body, especially to her ass, I almost didn’t want to believe it. But, I was so sure of it. She passed Makima’s thickness by at least ten percent.

I bit my tongue and swallowed the build-up of spit before making my way to where they stood, pushing my hands in my pockets so nothing showed if I popped one. Often occurrence, do not recommend.

Keeping my eyes ahead, I tried to remain as respectful as I could be while addressing my boss, “Hey, Makima. And…” As soon as I looked over at the pretty girl, I paused so she could say her name, but at the same time, I was freaking out about how much better her appearance was up close.

My brain couldn’t keep up. She had clean, soft skin with a gradient to her cheeks and lips that made me want to go for kissing them, no hesitation. When she glanced back at me, I couldn’t pry my eyes away from hers, watching her reply to me in admiration, “Oh, my name is {Y/N}. I’ve transferred here from Special Division 7… Nice to meet you! You must be the Chainsaw boy she has been telling me about!” God, even her name fit her perfectly.

Wait. Special Division 7? A stopping record player noise sounded off in my head and I turned to Makima for an explanation. The auburn-haired woman was smirking at me like she found my reaction amusing, as always. She leaned forward from her sitting position, resting her chin on her palm, and introduced {Y/N}’s background, “Say hello to the famed Youth Devil, Denji. She’s a beautiful one, isn’t she?”

The Youth Devil? Oh, I’ve heard about her before. Aki talked about coming across someone from a division that had become the Devil that aged people, yet she apparently had no knowledge of anything outside of ‘safe-for-work territory’. Or whatever the fuck he wanted to label it as. Really, that just meant she has no idea how valuable those titties are and that gives me a high chance of getting a squeeze. Or… more.

My gaze had unconsciously drifted to her chest at the thought of that, the button of her white top barely holding because of its size as I forgot to answer Makima. So, being the Youth Devil included being incredibly busty too? Good to know.

It wasn’t until I heard the clear of her throat that I had snapped back into the present and responded without thinking, “Yeah, she is.” Turning red once I realized what I had been doing right in front of the two women, a bit of worry brimming the back of my mind.

{Y/N}’s face lit up at the compliment rather than furrowed and she was quick to thank me, “Awww, you’re so sweet! Thank you, Denji!” And for a minute, I was stuck wide-eyed, half-expecting a slap across the cheek because I was obviously checking her out. Well, I’ll be fucking damned. I guess what Aki was saying about her was true after all.

Before I could get out a ‘You’re welcome’, Makima interrupted by getting off of the desk she was using as a seat, nonchalantly dismissing herself, “I have some things to attend to, so I’m sorry to say, but I’m taking my leave. I hope you find yourself comfortable with Denji, {Y/N}!”

About to pass me up, her intimidating yellow eyes locked onto mine and she leaned to whisper into my ear, “If you want to play with her so badly, why don’t you make her your new toy? You’re strong, right?” Then she walked off as if she didn’t suggest what she just did. My eyebrows and goosebumps raising at the comment. She was encouraging me to do it?

Chewing on my bottom lip, my breathing slowly got worse as I was left with horrible thoughts and a growing erection. {Y/N} not making it any better because she lingered. Don’t get me wrong, I was fine in hanging out with her. More than fine. But, not with all of this also in mind now.

“What’d she say?” She asked, fluttering those long eyelashes at me, and I didn’t know why but when I looked into her {E/C} eyes again— it was like millions of memories were yanked out of my brain and put in them like a projector. Causing me to take a step back and rub away whatever was happening in startled confusion. What the fuck was that?

I blinked away the rest I could, however, I remembered everything so that didn’t help; coming to a conclusion from the look she gave. My head wasn’t the one messing with me, it was her. Or whatever the hell that fucking power is. And I was not cool with that.

Avoiding eye contact by glaring at the floor, I grumbled, “Was that you?” I wasn’t going to hang around for any longer if she wanted to manipulate my mind, especially if it was concerning something like my past. I didn’t want to be reminded. I came here to escape.

A gasp left her like she was frightened before I saw her in my peripheral vision; raising a hand and putting it on her forehead. She took a moment to answer me in a tired voice, “I was just trying to find out more about you… I got too curious, I’m so sorry.”

Hearing her say that was reassuring and gave me the go to stare at her again, my tone dropping back to that same inviting one from earlier, “Oh, shit.. Well, yeah. I don’t have that great of a life so I wouldn’t pry too far.” I tried to shrug it off, rushing to a solution so it didn’t get awkward, “You want to go get some ice cream or something, gorgeous?” It was a last minute suggestion, but that could work.

The {H/C}-haired girl seemed to be near crying before she nodded slowly, a smile rising on her face as she unexpectedly got close to me and intertwined her fingers in mine. Pulling me off along with her while chiming, “Who doesn’t?! I’d love to!” Easier than I thought. But, I’m not complaining.

──⇌• Switch in P.O.V ; Third •⇋──

On the way to the ice-cream shop, Denji stumbled on a couple of rouge devils with {Y/N} in an alleyway and as fate has it with them, they ended up having to chase them down into a field. Faced with the ugly things combining into a whole bundle of disgusting flesh and faces.

She had solved what they were dealing with as soon as they began merging while he did not. Denji didn’t care for details, he wanted to go straight into shredding. He gripped onto his pull cord and tugged, the chainsaws ripping through his skull and arms. Making the curious girl stay behind and observe how he handled the monstrous creature.

With a rush of adrenaline, the now transformed Chainsaw Devil tore into its body, piece by piece. Blood and guts splattered everywhere onto the ground from the relentlessness he had. Getting onto {Y/N} because of how much had sprayed.

He finished when he wanted to. Raging on the thing until it was nothing but a pile of mush left to pitifully sit in the middle of the empty space it sought out for safety.

Then he retracted his chainsaws back into himself, his skin latching and coming together when he did. Molding back into his handsome, worn face. Like nothing happened. Leaving {Y/N} to blankly gaze at him, soaked in red, and drift down to witness the true wrath of Denji.

No doubt was she intimidated by the boy, seeing for herself what Makima had been commending about him. He was the real deal. A true Devil Hunter.

Wiping off the blood from around her mouth, she began to smile and clap with a giddy cheer, “That was impressive! You’re really good to be able to take out a Devil that easily. How long have you been in the game?”

He raised a brow at how she was phrasing their work, confused that she was asking but deciding to respond anyway, “I guess as soon as I could survive on my own, I’ve been hunting. It’s all I’ve known.” Saying it so casually out loud was weird for him. No one usually asks about this type of stuff. Other than when Makima does. But, here was another girl doing it.

{Y/N}’s face twisted into a look of wonder, twinges of sadness in it as she thought about a young boy having to deal with that kind of stress. It made him charming somehow. She felt the need to praise him for it, “The dedication you have to helping people is inspiring.. I hope to achieve the same goal as you, Denji.” A small appreciative smile was sent his way right after she finished.

Although, his attention was completely misplaced. Guess where; her breasts. He was zoned, an idea coming to him when hearing her instead. “My goal? You could help me achieve that, {Y/N},” the blonde beamed. His brown eyes finally getting off of her chest to address her politely.

She moved forward, innocently egging him on, “Oh, really? How?” The way she peered back at him while waiting, that sweet look never leaving her face once, it gave Denji the confidence he needed to elaborate, “Ever since I’ve been thrown into devil-hunting, I only wanted one thing out of it.”

Walking closer, he leaned to where he almost touched foreheads with her, murmuring the last sentence, “A pretty girl who’d let me fondle her body, whenever, wherever…” He felt guilty after saying it, but the eagerness was too much. There was no way he would pass this chance up.

Thinking to herself, she concluded what he was hinting to and thumbed the bottom of her shirt; lifting it over her head and throwing it to the side like it was something natural. He held his breath at the sudden action, the full view in front of him because she wasn’t wearing a bra. ‘This was quick..! Why is she undressing?!’ Panicked thoughts went rampant as he tried to process what to do, glued to admiring her front half while also confused about what her reasoning for this was.

The {E/C}-eyed girl told him it with the purest intention possible, “You seemed to be interested in my chest so I guessed that this is the part of me you wanted to touch? And I was uncomfortable by the bloody mess. But, sorry if I got it wrong! I don’t mean to make you uncomfortable!” Even though she had no clue on what she was truly doing, she still managed to get it dead on. Making Denji chuckle out of excitement.

His sharp teeth poked out in a snarky grin at {Y/N}, his hand reaching over to palm one of her breasts and squeeze. Most of it filling the cracks of his fingers and fitting perfectly, if not a little bigger. That grin of his widened like he was off of his rocker as he got greedy; grabbing both of them to push them together. They were so soft. So fuckable. He wanted to stick his dick in them so badly.

A whimper slipped past her lips and Denji went from eyeing her breasts to looking at her brushing her hair out of the way for him. Butterflies erupting in his stomach at how considerate she was despite him taking advantage of her obliviousness. All he could do was commend and thank her with a red blush across his cheeks, “Thank you… so much. Fuck, I can’t even believe that you’re real right now. Your boobs are so fucking huge..!”

She would’ve laughed at the comment if his touches weren’t affecting her like this, his fingertips brushing past her nipples to mess with them, the perverted bite to his lip drawing a bit of blood to dribble down his chin. The girl arched into the feeling and moaned softly, struggling to speak, “Hah.. Thanks.! W-Wow! Why does that mm-feel good?”

They were out in the open, but Denji wanted to go for the risk. He didn’t care if anyone came across the two of them fucking like animals, he just wanted to do it. And nothing was going to stop him the moment he could tell that she wanted to do it with him too.

He pushed on what she said, using it as bait, “You want me to make you feel better? I can teach you a couple more things… Something that’d make us feel incredible.” And as she was about to reply, he leveled with one of her breasts and gave a lick to the bud; a squeal leaving her instead.

Repeating himself, he mumbled against her nipple, her breath hitching at his sharp teeth grazing it slightly as he talked, “Keep getting yourself undressed, pretty baby… I want to have some fun with you.” He sounded desperate, {Y/N} falling for it and hooking her fingers on her skirt zipper, unzipping it and letting it fall to the ground.

Denji grunted and wrapped his entire mouth around the bud after that, sucking at it while unbuttoning his pants. Digging in his boxers to tug out his throbbing dick so it was no longer suffocated. He made a fist around his shaft and began jerking off, pre-cum forming around his tip the more he tightened on the veiniest part.

She peeked over the side of him to get a look at what he was doing, holding her legs together when she was beginning to feel something wet between them, entranced at his lower half. It looked satisfying to do and he had mentioned playing so it seemed normal to go for. But, she was in for a surprise because as she attempted to replace his hand, he jolted back and huffed, “Woah, woah… I don’t think you want to get that serious. Who knows what I might do to you if you do…”

Honestly, {Y/N} really loved the sound of everything he was talking about and she didn’t want this to end. She wanted it to go further. Her curiosity wasn’t something to tease, she will figure it out, one way or another. So, she swiftly rushed back in front of him and pressed up against him, resting her chin on his collarbone while she barely rested her fingers on the tip. Begging at him for compliance, “Please, sir… I do want to find out…”

He sucked in some air through his teeth and tensed, almost driven crazy from the pleasure of her contact with him there. It was a noticeable difference between her hand and his dick but he could definitely make it work. And after her asking like that, she was in for a treat.

The brown-eyed boy grabbed her wrist to position her fingers at a better angle before he guided it down his shaft, watching her unable to wrap her whole palm around from how thick he was. He groaned, his own sexual frustrations leaving from his mouth as she got to savor them now.

Eventually, {Y/N} caught onto him pushing her to go faster and sped up her movements as best as she could. Joining her other hand to clasp around his cock to stroke everything rather than a portion. Until he ended up impatient and lifted her up with his arms underneath hers, holding around her ass to move himself in the middle of her legs. Slowly sliding in the correct position; his dick melting in between her pussy and thighs.

Denji lowered her onto him now, grinding their pleasure out while they locked eyes with each other in a half-lidded daze. She moaned vicariously, stuttering some words here and then to emphasize what she was experiencing, “It’s making me feel so… weak! Nnghh-ah ah! Chainsaw.. boy.. wait! I feel so weird..!” His hips began to collide with hers as he increased in speed, closing his eyes to pretend he was fucking into her. He didn’t want to get too ahead of himself out in public though. He had to be reminded about the consequences they could face if they were caught.

She was ignored and sputtered nonsense once she got close, “God! I think… I have to go! I have to go! Stop! I don’t- mmppph.. wanna..! DENJI!” The blonde figured it was because she hadn’t cummed before and knowing that he was the one that was gifting her— her first orgasm— made him spiral in a violent fit of thrusting hard into the folds of her pussy, right against her puffy clit.

Whines yelped out of her as her juices poured all over his length, creating sharper wet sounds and more friction for him. His tip swollen by the time he was close to falling off of the edge of cloud nine with her. Once Denji could feel the rush of his cum trying to spill, he gave a final ram and angled it around her hole to allow it into {Y/N} a little. She trembled in his hold, watching him leave her legs, bruised and messy. Satisfaction written all on his face at what he got away with.

They didn’t even clean up the cum when they went back for the office, deciding to do it a couple of hours later despite both of them feeling the slick in their underwear. Instead, they kept glancing at each other, exchanging a knowing stare until someone interrupted it to talk to either one of them. That sexual tension never stopped fucking with Denji. And {Y/N} was simple-minded as always, in her own little world.

But, she didn’t bat an eye when the boy randomly slipped hands into her shirt one day to get a feel or let her know he was horny by pressing his boner against her ass. He would whisper dirty words to her throughout it, coaxing her into doing things, just for him, “I want to go back to messing with you, babydoll… Can we go inside one of those bathrooms? Need to relieve this.”

{Y/N} would go into the bathroom and he would strip her down like she was a doll, his pants to his knees, her chest resting on the sink and displaying her in front of the mirror. He took her virginity in them. Forcing his cock to slam into her walls, reaching for her guts, all to get lost in her warm pussy. Denji growled loudly, echoing in the tiny room they were locked in while he demanded, “Spread yourself for me. I want to see my dick plunging inside that cute body of yours..!”

Only able to comply, she used both of her hands to pull her ass apart, exposed completely for him to see as he got worse in his constant pounding. Making the poor {Y/N} drool while she twitched in ecstasy, her orgasm running through her for the second time when he wouldn’t quit.

His honey brown eyes seemed so sweet at first, but now they were glaring deep at her expressions, resting into a melted one the second he neared his end. Denji released every drop inside without hesitation, her moans rocking out of her because of him slowing down as he humped it into her.

Then he started over in the same rough pace from before and she endured it as much as she could, her eyebrows knitting up into an exasperated, sweaty look. He was like a dog mating when it came to sex; stamina, aggressive, and having a bunch of cum to dump. {Y/N} was holding onto the sides of the glass counter once he had cummed for a second time, burrowing his cock deep like it was a ritual by now.

And he repeated. Leaving the girl to barely understand what was happening to her from the overstimulation. Denji wasn’t stopping. Even as she screamed for him to, “Fuck! Please! Please, master, I can’t handle anymore!” The pet name he directed her to say a regular word for her at this point.

After his seed was spilling out of her on its own and creating a puddle on the floor, after Denji was dry-cumming and making her unravel onto him like she was throwing a fit off of drugs; that’s when he finally gave up and got off of her. Slipping his dick out and shuddering a couple of words laced with dopamine, “Not so bad for our first hook-up… I don’t know if I want to wait for the others.” Was he hinting at going for more rounds? ‘Dear god..’ was the last thing she could think before she dropped unconscious.

Lil Special Extra // Denji’s P.O.V

Weeks had passed by after me and {Y/N} became a ‘thing’. Hooking up led to a lot more and now she was basically at my apartment almost every day. Sure, Aki and Power were annoyed at her presence, not wanting to hear or see any of the exchanges we gave. But, a man’s gotta live and how can he not without slapping his girlfriend’s ass?

However, there was one downside to her staying over and that was her availability in walking in on me doing lots of inappropriate activities. Whether that was jerking off to her or to… porn.

She bursted into my room late at night after having woken up from a nap in the living room and I was right in the middle of rubbing one out to my favorite fantasy porno. Jumping out of my skin when I heard her shout, “Darling, you miss-! Oh…” The small ‘oh’ quieter than the rest.

My hand and dick glistened with the lube I had saved for times like this, a blush covering my face as I snapped the laptop shut. The sounds of sex disappearing with it.

Anxiety raged through me at how she was going to react, completely forgetting that she barely had a grip on anything sexual until she squeaked out, “What was that? Can I… see?” As soon as I heard that, I quickly dropped the embarrassment and those dirty thoughts snapped back into my usual perverted personality.

Shit, I almost didn’t remember who I was and who she was. Beckoning for her to come sit down on my lap once she closed the door.

{Y/N} straddled me and observed as I opened the screen back up to the lewd scene of a woman being bred just like she had been. Her eyes going wide and a blush crossing her cheeks at the similarity. That innocence of hers was going to be ruined real quick around me. And I loved ruining it. Sliding my fingers down in between her legs like usual so I could welcome her to another sexual addiction I’d use for my benefit.

#csm denji #csm smut #smut #smut prompts #csm x reader #csm denji x reader #denji x reader #denji x reader smut #denji x fem reader #denji x fem reader smut #this boy crazy with the fucking #kinda kin the dude #corruption kink

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screaminglygay · 6 months ago

Text

Watermelon, sugar, high.

pairing: wanda maximoff x fem!reader

summary: you are not a big fan of collage parties, but maybe you´ll change your mind, when there´s an interesting person around.

warnings: stoner!wanda, weed consumption, alcohol consumption, swearing, bad flirting, making out while being high

word count: 2.6k

an: this fic is not meant to encourage people to use drugs!! i want to have a flirty chat with wanda and i also want her sweet lips on mine:)

"Hiii!" Your friend links hand with yours.

"Abolutely not." You shake your head.

"Come on! It will be fun." Your friend begs you to go with them to the usual Friday party.

"Drunk people grinding agaisnt eachother is not fun," you take look at them as you start heading out of the school.

"Oh my god! If you don´t want to grind on people, that´s fine, don´t do it," they roll their eyes at you, "but you have to come, please! Pretty please."

"I hate you." Now it´s your time to roll your eyes.

"You don´t, you love me and that´s why you´ll be ready at eight." You´re already done for today, so you take a nice walk back into your apartment.

It´s not like you hate parties, but you´re just socialy awkward and you don´t really see the point of drinking tons of alcohol, making out with a stranger and having a hangover the next day. Maybe you actually do hate parties.

With a resigned sigh, you settle on an outfit that feels comfortable yet still a bit stylish. Black on black. It's not perfect, but it will have to do. Glancing at the clock make you realize that your friend will be here soon to pick you up, expecting you to be ready. You take a deep breath, trying to calm the fluttering in your chest. Maybe it doesn't matter what you wear—maybe it's just about showing up and enjoying yourself.

Enjoying yourself in a house full of alcohol, drugs, drunk and horny people. How can you enjoy yourself there? Oh god.

Your friend arrives right on time, honking the horn playfully to announce her presence. You grab your phone, keys and wallet and rush to her car.

Buckling up, you can't shake the anxiety gripping you. "I really hate parties," you admit with a sigh, meeting her gaze as she starts the engine.

She glances at you, empathy softening her expression. "I know you do," she acknowledges gently, her voice laced with understanding. "But tonight's going to be great. Just relax, enjoy the fun, and embrace your youth."

"Embrace your youth?" You roll your eyes. "I just never feel like I fit in."

"Trust me, once we get there, you'll see that no one cares, everyone is just in their little head, like you are." She smiles at you.

You fidget with your shirt, still hesitant. "What if I don't know anyone?" you ask, nerves creeping back in.

She reaches over, squeezing your hand comfortingly. "I'll be right by your side," she assures you, her reassurance grounding you.

And that was a lie.

"I´ll be back in a second," your friend said - and that was like a 40 minutes ago.

You glance around awkwardly, attempting to look engaged while secretly wishing for your friend to reappear. People bustle past, engaged in their own conversations and laughter, oblivious to your internal struggle.

A burst of laughter erupts nearby, drawing your attention momentarily. You force a smile, trying to appear approachable, but no one even looks at your direction. The music pounds in your ears, a constant reminder of the pulsating atmosphere you're trying to navigate alone.

"You look like you need some company," you hear raspy voice behind you and then you see a face, pretty face. Tall girl with long brown hair in a black skirt that falls to mid-thigh, paired with a dark gray long-sleeve shirt that drapes softly against her silhouette, her outfit complemented by a delicate necklace that adds a special touch to it all.

After you basically checked her up and down, you slightly shake your head, "not really, no." You sip from your drink that tastes like shit, "my friend just went to the bathroom."

"Are they okay? I mean being in the bathroom for," she looks at her phone, "over 30 minutes is a long time."

"How do you know that?!" You tilt your head as she leans closer to you.

"I know a lot of things, malysh. I also know that you need company or you gonna pass out from all the stuff that it´s happening in here, follow me." She offers you her hand.

"I´m not gonna follow a stranger somewhere… away from the crowd."

"I´m Wanda, you are?"

"(Y/N)."

"Now we´re not strangers," She takes your hand in her soft one. Oh her hands are nice. A sly smile as she leads you outside, on the roof to be specific. Suddenly the world goes quiet - yes, you still hear the music, but this feels way nicer and you breathe some fresh air.

"Better, (Y/N)?" Wanda smiles at you.

You nod, "yeah, a lot actually," you smile back at her.

Wanda nods, she walks further away from you, sitting on the edge of the roof, "this is my favorite spot."

"Oh, so this is your house?" You look around once more, then you go and join her.

Wanda nods, pulling a small bag with… weed. You look back at her.

"Shouldn't you be downstairs, enjoying your own party?" Your gaze drops to her hands, each adorned with unique silver rings that catch the light as she expertly crushes the dried herb in her grinder. With practiced finesse, she meticulously spreads the cannabis along the length of the rolling paper, ensuring an even distribution.

"My brother is enjoying that for the both of us," her fingers, nimble and fold the paper around the herb, creating a tight cylinder.

Once satisfied with the shape, she licks the edge of the paper, sealing it with a practiced flick of her tongue. And from her pocket she pulls out a black lighter. After few seconds the scent of cannabis permeates the air, blending with the distant bass thump of music from downstairs. She puts her lighter back into her pocket.

"So not a party person?" Your eyes are concentratates on her lips, she´s really beautiful.

Wanda exhales, her eyes scanning the horizon. "Parties can be… overwhelming," she admits. "I prefer quieter moments like this, where I can think and breathe."

You nod in agreement, "it's nice up here," you offer, glancing at her with a small smile. "Peaceful."

"Yeah," Wanda murmurs, a faint smile playing on her lips. "I come here a lot, away from the noise of the world."

As you both settle into a comfortable silence, you can´t help but glance at her time to time. The more you look at her, the more you find her beuatiful.

Wanda notices the way you´re basically staring at her, "would you like some?"

"Oh no, no, I- uh never had… that." You point to her blunt between her pretty fingers.

"Never?" Her smirk widens.

You shake your head at her question, "never."

"Wanna try it?" She take one more puff of the joint.

"I-" You want to try it. "I´m not sure." You manage to say.

Wanda smiles and nods, "Okay, no preasure here."

"No, I want to try it, I… I don´t know why I said I´m not sure…" your eyes went from Wanda to her fingers and then back up at her.

"Looks like you need to relax a bit." Your hand reaches for the blunt, but Wanda moves away, her fingers gracefully taking hold of it. Her touch is delicate yet firm as she brings the blunt to your lips, guiding it with a steady hand.

"Open, but don't inhale into your lungs," she instructs softly, her voice a soothing.

You follow her guidance, parting your lips as the tip of the blunt touches them. The smoke tickles your throat as you tentatively draw it in, but despite your efforts to follow Wanda's instructions, the unfamiliar sensation overwhelms you. The harshness of the smoke makes you cough.

"Oh god-" it feels like your insides are on fire.

"It´s okay," her other hand falls on your knee and softly rubs it up and down to sooth you, "let it all out."

After few deep breaths and few tears from your eyes, you finally speak, "that was… horrible."

Wanda chuckles, "the first time is always bad, unless you´re eating edibles."

"Can I try it again?" Your eyes meet Wanda´s ones, "please?" You add.

She smiles at your politeness and nods, bringing her hand back to your mouth, as you inhale a bit, you cough again. Her hand never left your knee, slowly running up and down to sooth you again.

"I don´t know what I though-" another absoutely horrible inhale, making you cought even more than the first try.

"It's okay," she reassures you, her voice calm and steady. "It takes time to get used to it. Just take it slow."

You nod, taking comfort in her words and the steadying touch of her hand. With each attempt, you feel a bit more at ease. Despite the coughing and the burning sensation in your throat, there's a strange comfort in sharing this moment with Wanda, her presence grounding you amidst the new experience.

"You're doing great," Wanda encourages, her smile warm and genuine. "It gets easier, I promise. And I think that for the first time, few puffs will be just enough for you." She chuckles.

Her encouragement fuels your determination, and you take another small puff, this time managing to hold it in for a moment before exhaling. The smoke swirls around you, mingling with the cool night air.

"See? Getting better already," Wanda praises, her hand still gently caressing your knee. The warmth of her touch feels so good.

You hum. "What's supposed to happen after smoking weed?" you ask, curiosity mingling with uncertainty.

Wanda smiles, her eyes sparkling with amusement. "Well, it varies from person to person, but usually, you start to feel more relaxed, maybe a bit giggly or nostalgic. It's different for everyone."

You nod, processing her words as the minutes tick by. Slowly, a warm, tingling sensation spreads through your body. Your mind begins to feel lighter, the edges of your thoughts softening into a pleasant haze. The world around you seems to take on a softer, more vibrant hue.

After some minutes of silence, Wanda notices the look on your face. "How are you feeling?"

You take a moment to consider, a small smile creeping onto your lips. "I feel… good. Warm. Like everything's a little more… interesting," you say.

Wanda's smile widens, and she nods in understanding. "That's the idea. It's all about letting go and enjoying the moment."

As you sit there, the conversation flows effortlessly. You talk about everything and nothing—your favorite books, funny memories from childhood, and even some old cartoons you used to watch as a kid. Wanda listens intently, her laughter ringing out occasionally, filling the rooftop with a joyful sound.

At one point, you find yourself marveling at the stars above, their brilliance more vivid than ever. "Do you think there's life out there?" you ask, your voice dreamy and reflective.

Wanda tilts her head, considering the question. "I think the universe is too vast for us to be the only ones. It's kind of comforting, in a way, to think we're part of something much bigger."

You nod, feeling a profound sense of connection to the universe and to Wanda next you.

"You're really good at this," you say suddenly, looking at her with wide, appreciative eyes.

Wanda chuckles softly. "At what?"

"At making me feel… like it's okay to just be," you reply, your voice sincere.

Wanda's expression softens, and she reaches out to gently squeeze you thigh. "Happy to be at your service," she says simply.

You find yourself staring at Wanda, unable to tear your eyes away from her. The way her lips curve into a gentle smile, the way her eyes twinkle with a mixture of amusement and understanding—it's all captivating. The world around you blurs, leaving just the two of you in sharp focus.

Wow… why didn´t you come to the party before? It´s just so… fascinating.

Wanda notices your intense gaze and smiles knowingly. "You're adorable when you're high, you know that?" she says, her voice low and teasing.

You blush, but you can't look away. "Am I?" you murmur, feeling a warmth spread through your chest that has nothing to do with the weed.

Wanda leans in a bit closer, her eyes locked onto yours. "Absolutely. You have this… innocent charm. It's really endearing."

You giggle nervously, feeling your cheeks heat up. "You're not so bad yourself."

Wanda's grin widens. "Oh? What do you like about me?" she asks, her tone playful and flirty.

You bite your lip, feeling a surge of boldness. "You´re beautiful. So beautiful that I want to kiss you."

Wanda's eyes darken with interest, and she leans in closer, her lips just a breath away from yours. "Well, who am I to deny a request like that?" she whispers.

Before you can respond, Wanda's lips brush against yours, soft and tentative. The kiss is gentle at first, a sweet exploration. Your heart races, and you find yourself leaning into her, deepening the kiss. Wanda's hand slides up to cup your cheek, her thumb brushing softly against your skin.

As you kiss, Wanda's other hand rests on your thig. "You taste sweet," she murmurs, her voice husky.

"And you taste like… heaven," you reply, feeling a little dazed but incredibly happy.

Wanda laugh at your words, finding it absolutely adorable how high you are, her eyes sparkling. "Heaven, huh? I like that."

The weed might be helping, but you truly feel like you´re in "heaven", you nodd.

"I think I'd prefer us both to be sober for the rest," she whispers, her eyes looking into yours. "How about we continue this on a proper date?"

You nod, your heart fluttering with excitement. "I'd like that," you reply, your voice barely above a whisper.

Wanda's smile widens, and she presses a quick, soft kiss to your forehead. "It's a date, then," she says, her tone filled with promise. There is a comfort silence, until she speaks again. "So, I guess I should ask for your phone number," she says, a playful smile tugging at her lips.

You giggle, feeling a flutter of excitement in your chest. "Yeah, that would be a good idea," you reply, reaching into your pocket for your phone. Your hands are a bit shaky, but you manage to unlock it and hand it over to Wanda.

She types in her number, then hands your phone back to you. "There you go," she says, her smile warm and genuine. "Now we can plan our date."

You grin, calling her so she has your number as well. "I can't wait."

Just then, you hear your friend's voice calling your name from below. "(Y/N)! Are you up there?" she shouts, her tone a mix of concern and impatience.

You sigh, glancing at Wanda. "Looks like my friend is looking for me."

Wanda nods, her expression understanding. "Looks like we have to say our goodbyes," for the first time you can see Wanda´s smile dissapearing. "But tonight was fun. I'm really glad we met."

"Me too," you say, standing up and brushing off your clothes. As you move toward the door, your friend appears, her face a mix of relief and exasperation.

"There you are! I've been looking everywhere for you," she says, crossing her arms. "It's late. We should get going."

"Here I am." You smile proudly.

"Goodnight, Wanda," you say softly.

Wanda smiles, her eyes warm and full of promise. "Goodnight. I'll text you soon," she winks.

As you and your friend walks back down, even at your state you can feel them staring, "we should party more often, it´s fun. Very fun." You mumble looking at her.

They look at you with suprise. "What made you change your mind? Your new friend?"

"Just the vibe is great and you know… it´s all about the vibes. And mostly pretty girls. Pretty girl." You smile to yourself thinking about Wanda again.

Your friend looks at you and it finally clicks, "oh my god, are you high?"

Thank you for reading, I had so much fun writing this hehe:)

#adele writes #wanda maximoff #wanda maximoff x reader #wanda maximoff x fem!reader #wanda maximoff x you #wanda maximoff x y/n #wanda maximoff fluff #stoner!wanda #marvel fanfiction #marvel fanfic

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