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autisticlancemcclain · 2 years

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I Can Still Recall Our Last Summer (I Still See It All) [Chapter 1]

Keith/Lance (Voltron), Romelle/Allura (Voltron), Lance & Pidge & Hunk (Voltron), AU, Fluff, 1.5k Words

Lance has no idea who his other parent is. Allura has always been tight-lipped about it. One day, he gets three times as many answers as he’s expecting, and handles it in the wildest way possible.

OR: The Mamma Mia! AU.

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As soon as Lance sees their rowboat hit the dock, he’s sprinting down the hill, yelling excitedly at the top of his lungs. Pidge and Hunk barely wait for the boat to be anchored before they’re racing to climb off, yelling just as loudly as Lance is.

The three of them collide in an overjoyed group hug so forceful they almost go careening off into the ocean. They’re all yelling and talking over each other, incoherent with excitement. Hunk is the first to get ahold of himself, squeezing Lance so tightly he’s lifted off the ground.

“We missed you so much, dude! I can’t believe you’re getting married!”

Pidge is next, yanking on Lance’s arm and screeching. “Show is the rock, show us the rock!”

Lance laughs delightedly, thrusting his left arm forward and wiggling his fingers, so the giant diamond ring glitters in the Cuban sun.

The sight of the ring sets everyone off again, and they’re screaming and jumping around and hugging in excitement.

“I’m getting married tomorrow!” Lance squeals, throwing his arms around his two best friends.

The three of them, grinning, start their trek back to the hotel.

“It’s crazy,” Hunk says. “It feels like just yesterday we were driving Allura up the wall and scaring the guests playing space rangers.”

This sets them into another fit of giggles, each likely envisioning a different incident entirely. The three of them were a force to be reckoned with. Luckily for Allura, she was a fierce enough woman to handle them all with grace, although they definitely made her hair grey significantly.

“Speaking of Allura, how is she? I missed her more than I missed you,” Pidge teases. Lance gasps in mock offense, but he’s too happy to keep up the pretense for long.

Besides, Allura really is great. If Lance had to go longer than a week without seeing her, he’d be miserable. He can’t imagine how Hunk and Pidge have managed for almost a year.

“Mom’s great!” he chirps. “She’s super busy with all the wedding planning, but you know her. Always wants to keep busy.”

As they near the end of the dock, Lance pauses, smirking at his friends when they look at him in confusion. “Speaking of Mom,” he says, “I have a secret.”

“Ooooh,” Hunk says, rubbing his hands together — ever the nosy one. Pidge can’t hide her intrigue either, gesturing for him to continue.

“I invited my other parent to the wedding.”

Pidge and Hunk gasp at him in shock, mouths dropped open.

“You found them?” Pidge demands.

Lance laughs again, shaking his head. “No, not really,” he says evasively. “I did, however, find this.” He whips out an old journal from his back pocket, presenting it with a flourish.

“An old notebook?” Hunk asks in confusion.

Lance smirks. “Mom’s old diary,” he corrects.

Hunk and Pidge gasp again, mischief lighting up their features.

“No way!” they exclaim at the same time. Lance throws his head back and cackles, before making a beeline for the mountain path, Hunk and Pidge yelling as they chase after him.

They finally catch up to him as he settles on a rock, holding the diary in front of him. Pidge and Hunk immediately sit down next to him, as close as they physically can without literally sitting on him.

“So? What’s the scoop?” Pidge inquires, Hunk nodding frantically beside her.

“You know how whenever I asked about my other parent, Mom would always say the same thing?”

Hunk nods. “Summer romance, gone before they knew she was expecting?”

Lance nods. “Exactly. That’s all I ever got, so I’d started to accept that was all there was to it. Well,” he continues, eyes glistening with excitement. “I was digging around some cellar, and I found a bunch of old trunks. Turns out, Mom has been journaling her whole life, and those trunks were all her old diaries.”

He holds the journal in font of him, fingers tracing the pink and floral decal on the front. “This is he diary she kept the year she got pregnant with me. There are three… significant entries I think you guys should hear.”

He opens the diary with a lot more circumstance than is maybe necessary, and begins to read.

“July third. What a night! Romelle rode me over to the little island — that’s here, that’s Varedero — and we danced on the beach, kissing and laughing, and dot, dot, dot!”

“Dot dot dot?”

“Sex, Pidge!” Lance exclaims, laughing. “They had sex!” Pidge gasps, and then quickly joins Hunk and Lance in their gigglefest.

“So that’s them? That’s your parent?” Hunk asks eventually.

Lance hushes him shaking his head. “No, no, there’s more. Listen. Ahem.”

“Romelle’s the one — I know she is! I’ve never felt like this before. Oh, how she thrills me,” Lance reads, sing-songing the words. “Oh, how she kills me! I’ve heard about her before, but I had to know everything. I get what people are saying, now — she’s a love machine. She makes me dizzy!”

Hunk and Pidge are positively shrieking with laughter, holding on to each other and tipping over. The whole situation is making them giddy — it feels drunk!

“I cannot conceal it — the way that she kisses goodnight, she holds me so tightly, she makes me want to sing aloud when she does her —” Lance squeals, showing the pointing a word out to Hunk and Pidge, and they shriek the word together: “— thing!”

After a moment, Pidge calms herself down enough to ask a question. “So this woman — Romelle — she’s your other parent?”

Lance is already shaking his head, eyes wide. “No, no, it gets crazier! Listen.”

“Romelle has been telling me, this whole time — for weeks! — that she loves me more than anything. But last night she got a call, and then she told me she’s engaged. So she’s gone home to get married, and I’m never going to see her again!”

“Oh, poor Allura,” Hunk cries. “That’s horrible.” Pidge nods in agreement.

Lance wiggles his eyebrows at them, continuing on.

“July twentieth. Lotor rented a motorboat, so I took him to the little island.”

“Lotor?!” Pidge exclaims. “Who the hell is Lotor?”

Lance laughs, reading on.

“Though Romelle plagues my thoughts night and day, haunting my dreams, Lotor is so wild and adventurous! He’s so romantic, he’s swept me right off my feet. And, well, one thing led to another, and dot, dot, dot!”

Pidge and Hunk positively scream, and Lance keeps reading right over their yells.

“August second. Shiro turned up out of the blue, so I offered a tour around the island. He’s just so sweet, so understanding. I couldn’t help it, and…”

Lance looks over at his friends, grin mischievous, and they finish the next part together:

“Dot, dot, dot!”

Lance turns and races off again, screeching with laughter. Pidge and Hunk chase him all over, and finally Lance stops at the hotel, collapsing onto a chair as he giggles. Pidge and Hunk are panting next to him, out of breath, half from running after him and half from all the giggles.

Suddenly, a rich voice sings out over the courtyard.

“Here come the bridesmaids ~”

“Allura!” Hunk and Pidge call in unison, gathering the last of their stamina to race over to the woman, giving her as tight of a bear hug as they gave Lance.

She squeezes them back just as hard, sighing. “Oh, you two have gotten so big!” she exclaims, pulling away slightly. “How I wish you were all small again, causing a ruckus and scaring away my guests with your games.”

The two of them laugh again, sheepishly this time. Allura shakes her head, smiling fondly. “I’m only teasing. You all look like you’re having fun already. I’m glad.” She looks wistfully put to the sea. “I used to have fun,” she says.

Lance snorts as his two friends exchange a look.

“Oh, we know,” Pidge mutters.

Allura turns to face her, brow raised, but decides eventually to drop it, slowly backing away.

Lance gets up, still giggling, and drags his friends to his room. Hunk speaks up the second he closes the door.

“So who’s your parent? Romelle, Lotor, or Shiro?” he asks.

Lance shrugs, picking up a hoodie from the bed and slipping it on. It’s far too large for him — it must be Keith’s.

“So… who’d you invite?” Pidge follows up.

Lance sits cross-legged on the bed, grinning at them sheepishly.

For what might be the millionth time in less than an hour, Pidge and Hunk gasp.

“No,” they say in unison.

Lance runs his hands through his hair, shrugging. “Well, what do you say to a total stranger who may or may not be your parent?” he defends. “I pretended to be Mom and send them an invite. And, with what’s in here,” he grabs the diary, shaking it in their direction, “no surprise, they said yes!”

The three of them squeal, and Lance flips backwards, scrambling to his feet on his mattress. He starts jumping and dancing around, Pidge and Hunk joining immediately. Lance whoops.

“My wedding is going to be chaos!”

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yourmidnightlover · 10 months

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getting it over with - ch 1

pairing: bucky barnes x reader

summary: after relentless teasing and being the butt of too many jokes, you ask bucky to help you become more experienced in… a particular area of your life

warning: precious bucky, virgin shaming?, virgin reader, slight male!oc x reader, sexual harrassment, illuding to sex, talk of sex

w/c: 2.5k

a/n: i am working on part 2 in my other series, timeless. i've been debating two different ways i could take it and it's been an internal battle trying to figure that out. that being said, i can't help myself and started writing this and so here it is! this will likely be a simple mini series with smut in the later parts, probably the next one tbh. anywho... enjoy!

another night with the girls, and yet another night of beng singled out and ridiculed over a miniscule part of your life.

you were a well accomplished woman and yet all of your hard work has consistently been overlooked in nearly every conversation because of your extracurricular activities. or, well, more like your lack of extracurricular activities.

you had been working with the avengers for five years now as their pr manager, living there for a little over three after finding it was easier to represent and present the team in a brighter light when you knew more about them. it was after you moved in that you got much closer to james ‘bucky’ barnes, who you’ve coined the nickname of ‘jamie’ for. your friends also began to question why you hadn’t, in their terms, “banged,” one of the avengers you happened to live with.

truth be told, you did enjoy spending time with them, especially bucky. but, that would be crossing a line. you were practically employed by them. well, technically you were employed by tony, but that didn’t change the fact that they were your clients. it was just particularly easy to find the good in the people who constantly saved the world. well, that, and you were supposed to make them look good anyway.

the most difficult one to paint in the golden light was definitely bucky. you were great at getting the media to lean into his humanity and reminding them of how he had been tortured into what he became. you’ve imagined him to the public as “sargeant bucky barnes,” giving him back the title he earned rather than the name he was branded. he was still wary of venturing into the eye of the public, but everytime he did there were less people yelling at him and more people giving pitying looks and whispers. sure, he would rather not be recognized at all, but whispering was a hell of a long way from harassment.

bucky was grateful for everything you’d done for him. truth be told, you were grateful for everything they had done for you anyway. hell they had repeatedly saved all of humanity, helping their reputation was the least you could do for them.

but regardless of how well of a job you’ve done making the avengers’ reputation way lighter, somehow the only thing your old friends could talk about is how you’re somehow still a virgin.

“god, i can’t believe you’re still a virgin sometimes. especially being surrounded by hunks like him,” stephanie spoke up as she flipped her bleached hair behind her shoulder. “i would’ve tried my luck long before i cleared their name, girl. i mean, that sergeant guy has the prettiest blue eyes, and have you never wondered what he could do with that metal hand of his?”

you rolled your eyes, “he’s more than a pretty face, steph. he’s actually really sweet, too. his humor’s a bit old, kinda like a grandpa.”

“well, if he’s a grandpa then i’d gladly be his sugar baby,” she squeaked as she sipped on her vodka cranberry.

“can we not talk about him like that?” your face furrowed in embarrassment and you only hoped that she would take your blushing as remnants of the alcohol running through your body.

“why?” she scoffed as she rolled her eyes. “do you want him or something?” she paused, seeingly waiting for your response. clearly, your silence was answer enough. “oh my god you like him, don’t you?”

“no, no, it’s not like that,” you shook your head as you downed the rest of your drink. “i just spend a lot of time with him because of the job, y’know?”

“why don’t you just get him to pop your precious cherry?” she ventured as she stood from her stool.

boy, had you wished for that. mostly in your wildest dreams, but part of you hoped it could maybe happen. but then, you would wake up and were reminded of your place in the world. besides, jamie was over 100 years old. there’s no way he’d want someone who didn’t know what they were doing in the bedroom.

“or,” steph interrupted your thoughts. “we can get out there and find you a different guy to pop your cherry,” she finished with a wink as she grabbed your hands, pulling you from your seat and to the dance floor.

you managed to sneak a glance at the clock before the crowd surrounding you made it more difficult, reading the time being 11 pm. you told the guys you’d be back before 1, so that gave you enough time to please stephanie and then politely excuse yourself.

surprisingly, you had begun to enjoy yourself. the music wasn’t so bad with the surge of confidence the alcohol running through your veins gave you. after a few too many drinks, you were in your own world. finally unbothered by the nagging thoughts of your friends and the weight of your job on your shoulders.

you felt a gentle tap on your shoulder before turning to see a sweet smile. he had big, brown eyes and shaggy hair, broad shoulders, none that compared to the men you lived with, but they were nice nonetheless.

“hi,” he said even sweeter than his smile, keeping his hands to himself politely. “i-i’m noah.”

“well, hello, noah,” you smiled as you stepped closer to him, uncharacteristically throwing your arms around his neck as you continued to sway to the music. “y/n.”

“i-uh-you-you’re gorgeous,” he stuttered as his hands modestly found your waist.

“you really think so?” you said teasingly before leaning up to his ear. “i think you are super cute, yourself.”

at this point, you had nearly forgotten all about stephanie’s presence at all. maybe she had already left with another guy, herself? who knows. right now, all you knew was that you didn’t know brown eyes could be so pretty. mayb you didn’t want to wait anymore. maybe you didn’t want to be the old virgin in your friend group anymore. maybe noah could change that.

“you’re unreal,” he chuckled as he continued to sway with you for the next song until you began to kiss on his neck.

“you taste so sweet,” you commented in his ear before kissing right below it. he pulled back, giving you a sweet smile before connecting your lips together.

“you taste sweeter, believe me,” he huffed out a breath as you reconnected your lips with his.

“i think i want you, noah,” you whispered against his lips so softly he wasn’t sure he even heard you. “pretty please?”

“ye-yea, sure,” he guided you out of the bar, you needing nearly all of his support to even walk out of the threshold of the door.

“think ‘m sleepy, noah,” you mumbled against his neck as the cold air hit your face, as if it had began to sober you up.

“you just said you wanted me…?” he perplexed as he pulled you aside into the ally to gather yourself.

“‘m sorry, noah,” you shrugged as the cold air hit you again. “‘s cold outside, can i go back in?” you turned to walk back inside when he grabbed your arm, probably a bit more harsh than he intended to.

“what the fuck?” he sounded disappointed. “i complimented you, i let you make the first move, and now you just wanna back out?” he pulled you closer to his body. “what the fuck is wrong with you?”

“i-i dunno, i just got confused i think?” you stumbled as you tried to back away once more. “it’s too cold out here, noah.”

“maybe this’ll warm you up,” he grabbed your pliable face and brought you back in for a kiss before you tried to push him away again.

“y/n?” you heard a raspy voice call out. “what the fuck?” you turned to see your jamie confused.

“jamie!” you tred to wiggle out of noah’s grasp once more, a disgruntled look on your face as you did so. “jamie…” you were now limply wrestling out of noah’s grasp as he scoffed at the situation in front of him.

“what?” he said in disbelief. “you wanna lead me on and leave with this guy?”

“noah-”

“i think you need to back of the lady, alright, man?” bucky spoke up as he stepped closer towards you. “she’s clearly a bit drunk, just let me take her home and we’ll be on our way. no harm, right?” he tried to reason with the douchebag.

“no harm?” he grasped your arm tighter before he continued, making you wince slightly. “so this bitch is able to fucking lead me on and then leave me high and dry and there’s ‘no harm’?”

“okay, i’ve tried to be nice about this,” without a second of hesitation, he had noah’s arms behind his back, not enough to seriously injure him, but just enough to harm him enough to not tempt him to do any more harm. “you will apologize to miss y/n for talking to her the way you did, you will walk away, and you won’t do anything like that to any woman in the near future, understood?” noah nodded. “am i understood?!”

“yes, yes!” bucky nudged him further in your direction as you were leaning your back against the brick wall for stability. “i’m sorry, y/n.”

“for…?” bucky taunted.

“i’m sorry for talking to you the way i did.”

“good boy,” bucky teased as he released the man, letting him run away and not sparing him another glance before he made his way closer to you.

“‘m sorry, jamie,” you stumbled forward and threw your arms around him. you had never been so openly affectionate, especially with bucky since you knew his aversions. since you were so drunk, you simply didn’t register the unspoken boundaries you had unintentionally set in place for yourself. “didn’t wanna make him mad. jus’ changed my mind s’all,” you buried your face in his neck.

“you have a right to change your mind, doll,” he soothed as he gently rubbed your back, leading you to steve’s car he borrowed.

“y/n?” you snapped your head to look at bucky as he spoke. “i don’t want you to be so late again, doll. it’s almost 2 am. had me worried sick about ya,” his hand danced on your knee, you assumed to comfort you after the events of the night.

“i didn’t know,” you shook your head. “i swear, i just lost track of time. s’not like me to do this. i just got so mad and wanted to get it over with, y’know?”

“get what over with?”

“you won’t laugh at me?” you grabbed his hand that was resting on your knee and turned in your seat to face your body towards him. “never, doll,” he chuckled at your serious tone.

“i’m tired of bein’ a virgin,” you said with a sense of disappointment. “don’ want people makin’ fun of me anymore.”

“that’s nothing to be embarrassed about, doll,” he shook his head as he put the car in park before running to your side of the car and helping you out. “some people want to save that moment, i get it.”

“no,” you groaned as you leaned into him. “i don’t wanna save it. i was just scared at first, and then i didn’t want to, and now it’s too late because nobody wants to be with a virgin.”

“that’s not true, y/n,” he shook his ehad as he pressed your shared floor on the elevator.

“would you wanna have sex with me?” you wondered aloud as bucky began coughing loudly. “don’t be mean,” you huffed and crossed your arms, figuring he was trying to hide his laugh. “steph said i should get you to ‘pop my cherry’ but i knew you would’t wan-”

“hey, that’s not what i meant,” he stopped your train of thought.

“so you do wanna ‘pop my cherry’?” you awed at the man as the elevator doors opened.

“i wan’ you to stop referencing it as ‘popping your cherry’,” he grimaced as he said it himself.

“you wanna have sex with me? bang? do the deed? take my virginity? make love?”

“stop it,” he groaned as you giggled, leaning into his chest even more. “i wanna have this conversation when your sober, if you even remember it.”

“i’ll remember, my sweet jamie,” you held onto his arm as he walked you to your room, helping you get into bed before going into your bathroom and returning with your bin of skincare. “this is why you’re my sweet jamie,” if you didn’t know any better you’d think he was blushing.

he began using your makeup wipes to remove the remnants of makeup that had survived the night, followed by micellar water to remove the excess remover from your face. you knew he had seen you do your skincare routine after having so many late movie nights with one another, but it was still flattering that he had remembered it all so well. he finished applying your toners, serums, and finally your moisturizer with gentle hands, his metal one providing a nice cold surface that woke your skin up a bit more. it wasn’t until you reached up to grab his flesh hand that he noticed the bruises lacing your arms.

“god,” he sighed as he looked down at his lap. “i’m so sorry i was too late, doll.”

“you weren’t too late,” you shook your head at his negativity. “you were perfectly on time. you saved me. i don’t-i don’t know what would’ve happened had you not shown up. i-”

“i don’t wanna think about what could’ve happened, please,�� he shook his head as he held onto your bruised wrist softly, tenderly rubbing his cool metal hand over the damaged skin before pressing a kiss to it.

“will you stay with me tonight?” you asked softly, as if you were scared he would say no. as if he would ever tell you no.

“only if you’re sure,” you nodded eagerly with a grin before he crawled into bed with you.

bucky’s arms wrapped around your waist as you laid on his chest, breathing in his scent as his soothing heartbeat calmed you down after the nights antics.

“i’ll remember tomorrow, jamie.”

CHAPTER 2

#bucky barnes #bucky barnes x reader #bucky barnes fluff #bucky barnes smut #bucky x reader #marvel #james bucky barnes #sargeant barnes #sargeant bucky barnes #bucky barnes angst #james bucky buchanan barnes #james barnes #sargeant james barnes #james buchanan barnes

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regalevansworth · 9 months

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The butterfly effect🦋

Pairing : Chris Hemsworth x male reader

Summery : Elated and thrilled to be able to start off your career in the fashion world, your first assignment is to help create costumes for superheroes. But this elation brings a sudden change in your life's trajectory when a chance encounter with none other than the Hollywood sensation-slash-hunk Chris Hemsworth transpires.

Warnings/tags : Explicit, SMUT 18+, resolved sexual tension, oral sex, anal sex, age difference (you're in your early 20's and Chris in his actual age), size difference, biting, Choking, dirty talking, manhandling, strength kink, body worshipping, Mature themes.

Word count : 6.3k+

A/N : Serving you, my first Chris Hemsworth fic. Despite being so underrated, CH fandom will live. I mean....who doesn't love our good ol’ Hemsy, right? So, here it is- a hot and spicey Chris Hemsworth smutty fic. I profusely apologize for all my mistakes and errors . Nevertheless, I enjoyed writing it and hope you enjoy reading it as well. And fyi, I envisioned Chris single in this fic. But it doesn't matter so you can pretend otherwise. Other than that, it's a legitimately sexy time. Likes, comments and reblogs are welcomed. Enjoy <33

Never in a million years would you have thought of getting an oppprtunity like this. For as long as you can remember, fashion has always been a subject of fascination to you. The puzzle of fabric, needle and thread intrigued you so much so that you decided, at a very young age, that you'd be persuing fashion as a career. Your parents held no grudges on your choice of profession. They encouraged you even.

So here you are today, after 4 years of continuous study with utmost diligence and dedication, bagging your first ever job as the wardrobe supervisor of costume department in a 250Million budget movie. Which, also apparently, happens to be a Marvel Studios movie. The next THOR movie. Hence, to your inner superhero geek, it's a cherry on top.

Your interview with the head Costume designer and other production managers was pretty jarring as they encountered you with several complicated aspects of being a wardrobe supervisor. But you proved your worth with practiced ease although feeling a bit self-conscious of having no prior experience. All in all, your wit and knowledge saved the day. And you could tell from the look on their faces that they were pleased with your talent at such young age. But, today comes your first day at work.

Your list of to-do's for Day #1 is surprisingly not as overloaded as you expected. It just consists of a meeting with the whole crew and the director. It goes considerably fine, save for the revelation part where they delegate you the responsibility of supervising Chris Hemsworsth's entire costume fitting process. Thus, you get extra pressure of work on your shoulder. Nevermind that you are not nearly ready to face any of the stars of the movie and it's surely getting on your nerves.

Having been already moved to Australia, the production of the movie is continuing on full swing. It's the 4th day that the crew finally decides to start work on the costumes of the lead characters. As the supervisor of Chris Hemsworth's costume preparation, you, inevitably, have to accompany the rest of the crew (which is funnily of 3 members) to his trailer.

On the way to your destination, you feel the dread of meeting someone like Chris Hemsworth slowly looming upon you. It's no surprise to you that being gay you've always been attracted to particular alpha male like him. Sure, you had a small crush on him like the vast majority of world population, maybe you still do, but it's absolutely pointless, Isn't it? There's no way in hell he's going to notice much less give his undivided attention to some random guy like you. And he's straight.

Mind occupied with these gratuitous thoughts, you don't notice when the group suddenly comes to a halt in front of a wooden door, nameplate shining with the letters C-H-R-I-S H-E-M-S-W-O-R-T-H. You feel sweat slowly pooling at your neck and collarbone. You pull out your handkerchief to dab at the places and hear one of the crew member saying, “Are you okay, Y/N?” You look up at her and try to give your most calm smile, “Yeah, I'm okay”. She nods and waits with the rest of the crews for the knocked door to open.

God! Why am I feeling so nervous? It's nothing. I'm just going for a purely professional meeting with Chris Hemsworth. Big, handsome, hunk of muscles Chris Hemsworth. Nothing else. It's not like I'm gonna rip his shirt off and and worship him on my knees and then bend over for him at the first opportunity. No. I'm fine and I got this.

Realizing how ridiculous you sound, you pull yourself out of your stupid inner rambling and straighten your posture. When the door opens, you take one last deep breath and follow your teammates into the suit. The trailer finely decorated —as a star's trailer should be— but right now you can't focus on anything else but the man in front of you.

Chris Hemsworth stands before all of you in his all broad muscular glory. From the state of his physical appearance you can guess that he has just finished working-out and didn't take a shower after. Maybe he didn't have the time. However, his short dark blonde hair is disheveled and sweat stains forming all over the tight tank top he's wearing. You can see the outline of his chiseled abs through his drenched shirt. Inhumanly broad chest and fine crafted pecs are heaving in time of his heavy breaths. “Good lord” you mumble breathily at the sight of his arms and biceps that are the size of your entire head. Angry veins popping up from all over his biceps to forearms and you just wonder for a moment, how it'd be like to trace them with your tongue.

You immediately shake yourself off before your mind leaps up to dangerous territory and look over at the head designer who's now having a quick chat with Chris Hemsworth. Then, suddenly he turns his head towards you and beckons you closer. You visibly startle but head over to them nonetheless. “And this is Mr. (Y/N) (S/N). He'll be overlooking your entire costume fitting process” Your cheeks immediately flushes at the mention of your name and you try to make out if this whole ‘making acquaintance’ part is necessary as there won't be any business other than professional.

But, when you look up at Hemsworth you see his blue eyes already resting upon you. So blue you sigh inwardly as he steps closer to you and offers a hand, “Hello, mate”. His voice is so deep and resonant that you feel yourself swooning just from that. Clearing your throat, you take his offered hand to shake it and get instantly captivated by how strong and callused they feel against your soft palm. “H-Hello” you somehow croak out, feeling your cheeks and ear burn to the root. But looking up at him, you, for the first time get transfixed by just how handsome he looks up-close. His Bearded chin and jaw, strong-thick neck, and perfectly curved nose signify his classic but exceptional Australian handsomeness.

His eyes are a whole different story, that are now gazing heavily at you. You can feel the heat behind those deep sea blue eyes as an imperceptive wave of emotion flashes over them. There's a sudden fluttering in your stomache and the sensation is so new that the hairs on your neck stand at alert on their own accord as if detecting a danger.

However, the unknown spell is immediately broken when someone from behind Chris clears their throat and beckons the group to start the meeting. As the chatting progresses you start taking notes from each side of their own opinions and giving your own. But every now and then, you catch Chris staring at you from the corner of your eye. But when you try to look back, he turns his head immediately as if he's caught doing something wrong. I must be seeing things you think as you keep your track with the meeting and wonder just why Chris Hemsworth would be giving you the occasional meaningful glances. That's just too stupid and absurd.

By the time the meeting ends, it's already been 1 hour. After calling it a day, your team start to slowly file out of the room. Not wanting to be the last one to leave, you jump up to your feet in a haste and follow the others out of the room. You covertly take a glance over your shoulder to see that Chris is now talking —more like listening— to the head designer. But then his gaze shifts and locks with you for a moment causing you to jump in surprise and turn around instantly. You hurriedly make your way out without managing to trip over.

✯———————✯

It's exactly 6:30 a.m. when Chris' alarm goes off. Groaning sleepily, he shuts off the alarm and sits up. After waking up his first thing to do is to check the day's schedule. Today's list only includes a lot of workout and some interviews then script discussion with Taika and other cast members. Throwing the sheets off of himself, he climbs out of the bed and quickly grabs his towel to take a shower. Turning on the spray, he proceeds to rinse and clean himself.

As he does so, he can't help but shift his mind off to yesterday's events. He'd been notified that the costume team would be on his trailer to discuss some things. Which turned out to be total useless as the team was talented enough to handle things on their own. But he appreciated their concern of his involvement all the same.

But there is one thing from yesterday's occuring that possessed all of his rational thinkings. Well, not a thing but a person. A very beautiful and lovely person at that. (Y/N) (S/N). Yes, that was his name. (Y/N).

The man —more like a boy, he looked pretty young— had a very gorgeous appearance. With his beautiful (s/c) complexion, wavy (h/c) hair, a set of wide (e/c) eyes that he found himself lost in the moment he gazed on them, petal like lips that he knows for a fact that they would feel as soft as they looked. He also had an aristocratic body type. Very slender but sinuous and quite short at height. The sage green cardigan of his attire accentuated his beauty all the more.

Chris is sure he felt quite captivated by the young man and the desire he felt was also quite strong. He didn't feel such attraction towards someone for a very long time and he longs to feel that body beneath him, to hear all the sound he can elicit from him, to feel his heat engulfing him whole.

Not wanting to get hard, Chris quickly pulls himself out of his thoughts and shuts off the shower. Then quickly toweling himself off he wraps the towel around his hips and goes to his suit to get ready for the day.

As expected, the day turns out to be quite uneventful but the meeting with the stars was pretty fun. After excusing himself, Chris makes his way towards his room but stops down shortly when a familiar voice calls out from behind “Mr. Hemsworth!”. Turning around, he catches the sight of the object of his sudden obsession making his way towards him. The young man is looking more delectable today. A cream colored hoodie accompanied with jeans making his appearance just as lovely. He's also wearing rounded glasses today which makes him look rather endearing as they highlighted his doe-like eyes and made them appear even bigger.

You stop Infront of him with a clipboard in your hand, allowing him to take in the scent of your cologne —fresh, and mouth watering sweet. He feels desire pooling in his stomache just being near you again. Having remembered you called him out for some reason, he smiles kindly, “Yes?”. His smile broadens when he sees a high blush rising on your cheeks and going down your neck to disappear under the collar of your hoodie, fully aware of the affect he has on you. You clear your throat and look down on the clipboard, “umm...ahem.....I’m just....here to inform you that we'll be taking measurement of your...umm...body...for your costumes so the team will be in your room in about an hour”. The full time you spoke, your gaze were anywhere but on him.

On the other hand, Chris was mentally devouring you the entire time of your forced rambling and without thinking, he blurts out, “will you be there?” He could've kicked himself for asking you that but the dumbstruck look on your lovely scarlet face, lips parted, eyed widened makes it million times worth it. But he immediately straightens up to make the conversation look professional. You peer up at him from beneath your lashes— a sight Chris is committing to memory— and nod, whispering, “Yes, I'll be there. It's under my supervision”. “Cool. I'll see you there, mate” comes Chris's jovial reply and because he can't help it and he really wants to touch you somehow, he grasps the exposed skin of your neck, squeezing it a bit.

Hand lingering there for a moment, He hesitantly retracts it but the softness of your skin on his rough palm left him craving for more. Images of him trailing kisses down your neck and leaving marks on the smooth expanse flashes through his mind and before he loses his composure, he flashes a wide smile and abruptly turns on his heels before striding away.

You stand there, shaking, eyes wide like saucers. The unexpected touch having made your rational thinkings go hayware. Head spinning thousand miles per second from the feel of his solid grip on your neck. Goosebumps still fresh on your entire body as you feel pulse throbbing on the side of your neck where moments ago his veiny hand rested.

How it'd feel to have those hands roaming all over your smaller frame? Holding you down as he pounds you onto the mattress? He could easily fit both of his huge palms around your hips

You shiver at the thoughts and immediately snap out of your reverie. Still blushing like a lovestruck teenager, you make your way towards the costume department's office, the interaction still fresh on your mind. Chris Hemsworth smiling at you, touching you. The same fluttering sensation returns like a thousand butterflies roaming around your belly. You shake your head again,. He isn't into you, you moron! He's just being friendly. Yes, he's just being his usual cheery self. Stop thinking otherwise. And Chris Hemsworth isn't gay for god's sake!! You mentally chide yourself, slapping at the back of your head once and twice.

It isn't untill one hour passes that you prepare for the impending visit to Chris Hemsworth. Just when you're about to gather your team, one of them walks up to you with an apologetic expression and you immediately know this isn't going to end up to your liking. “Hey, uh, (M/N), sorry to bother you but the other guys will be busy for next some hours with you know, set props and stuff. So, you'll have to take the measurements of Mr. Hemsworth alone” He rushes to explain again when he sees the shocked look on your face, “It's nothing difficult, really. You know how it's done, right?” You take a moment to collect yourself and nod unsurely. “Great! Good luck” He pats you on the back and hurries away.

“Shit” comes the first thing from your mouth and you know that you're gloriously fucked. But you also know that despite your current predicament, this work has to be done as soon as possible otherwise the pressure will grow on everyone. So, after releasing a long defeated sigh, you grab your things and head out. On your way, you pray to whatever higher power is up there to shorten your time alone with Chris Hemsworth and save you from the ultimate embarrassment.

Chris has just finished doing some light push-ups and weight-lifting knowing that it'll help broadening his muscles to make his body susceptible to perfect measurement. Just as he is about to grab a towel and clean the slight sheen of persiperation off his body, there comes a knock to the door. Musing it'll be the costume team, he walks over to the door, shirtless, and pulls it open. There, fidgeting like a nervous teenager, stands (M/N). But when those alluring eyes fall upon him, they widen almost comically. Never being able to focus on one thing, they shift from his face to his chest, abs, arm and every inch of his naked skin. He can't help but smile smugly at that.

Chris then sees you gulping visibly before looking up, face flushed so prettily and for the first time Chris wonders if you are a virgin. “Hey mate, I was waiting for you, come on in.” He moves aside to let you in. Seeing it just you, he asks, “You, uh, alone?” You nod, obviously more than nervous.

After an awkward amount of moment passes, you pull out the measurement tape from your back pocket and look up at him expectantly, “Shall we begin?”. He smiles, adjusting the ball cap he's wearing, “Sure, let me just clean off the sweat. I don't wanna make you uncomfortable” You nod and set down the notpads on the near table. After some moments, Chris comes out of his bedroom looking slightly fresh but the evidence of his chore is still fresh on his bronzed skin.

Unrolling the tape, you move closer to him and a wave of musky scent of sweat and ozone mixed with faint spicy cologne hits your nostrils. The man radiates musculinity and of pure testosterone which is practically overwhelming your senses, making your knees buckle. Trying to calm yourself down, you proceed.

Placing the metallic tip of the tape on his right shoulder, you measure out the length of his arm and then doing the same to his left arm. Following the same procedure you measure out the length of his upper body. Jotting down the numbers after immediately everytime.

Then you move to meter the width of his neck and collar and by the close promiximity you can now feel his hot breath down the side of your neck. Can feel his eyes boring onto the same spot and the delicious heat wafting off of him. You quickly dislodge yourself and move around to measure the width of his muscular shoulders, impressive at that. His eyes trailing your every movement. Gulping nervously, you shuffle around untill you get the measurement of his biceps, forearms and chest, eyes widening from the sheer size of them.

When it is time to get the measurement of his waist and lower body, you begrudgingly have to get down on your knees which seems to be only convenient.

Chris silently observes you getting down on your knees. The sight already having made his blood rushing south, cock thickening inside his shorts. He can feel your breath coming in contact with his crotch even with the barrier of thin fabric when you circle the tape around his waist. He is having an absolute hard time stiffling his groans. Multitude of lewd, pornographic images flashes through his mind, each one dirtier than the other.

You can clearly see the tan line on Chris's skin from where you're crouching in front of him. His low hanging shorts doing nothing to hide the trail of hair disappearing under the waistband nor the obvious swell of of a prominant bulge. You swallow thickly realizing you're eye to eye with Chris Hemsworth's very clothed manhood and how easy it'd be to just tug the ridiculous pair of shorts down and choke yourself on his huge Australian cock.

Chris is also having a hard time restraining himself to just smash your pretty face onto his crotch, fingers twitching from the effort. But when you look up at him suddenly with your wide (e/c) eyes and parted lips, he loses all the battles against his lust.

He picks you up in a flash. Ignoring your yelp of surprise, he smashes your lips together. The force of his kiss almost knocks you off balance. But you pull yourself together from the utter shock and wrap your arms around his neck. He wraps his huge arms around your waist and tugs yourself close even though there is not an ounce of space left between you, chests flush together. You try to kiss back as much as possible but you feel already delirious, mind hazy.

He eagerly sucks on your bottom lip. You moan in pleasure, making him groan and deepen the kiss. Soon his thick tongue seeks entrance to your mouth which you are very happy to comply. He licks the inside of your mouth, groaning from the taste. Tongues enterwining, you both lose yourself in the act. He bites your bottom lip and you whimper in response. His tongue is warm and heavy in your mouth, so as his body against yours.

He soon breaks the kiss and reluctantly pulls away, a trail of saliva connecting your lips. Both of your breath became heavier by now and he looks at you so intensely that you, feeling somewhat scrutinized, look down with your hands still clutching both of his meaty shoulders. Curling a finger under your chin, he tilts your head up and you notice for the first time, that his eyes are completely blown away, the blues of his orbs are blackened by what can be called as raw hunger. You can't help the shiver that wracks down your spine.

Wordlessly, he slowly backs you up against the nearest wall and once more kisses you so passionately as if trying to devour you. Involuntary tears gather at the corner of your eyes from the light suffocation. If it wasn't for him, you never would've known that kisses can be this much pleasurable to bring you to hardness in an instant.

Chris absolutely loves the taste of your mouth as he licks around every cravice. Your heavenly moans and whimpers going straight to his already engorged cock as it's leaking a steady stream of precome inside his boxers. He wants to hear you more, the sounds he can emit from your sinful lips as he makes you his. With this single thought in his minds, he pecks you on the lips one last time and slowly descends down the long column of your neck.

He takes a whiff from the juncture of your neck and shoulder before pressing his tongue flat on the skin. “You smell so good” he purrs in a husky tone and starts to suckle on your neck, pressing wet open mouthed kisses on your skin. You bite the back of your hand to stop yourself from making any more embarrassing noises. But he's just making it so hard from his slow ministrations.

Feeling restless and too worked up, you slowly start to roam your palms around his strong back. Both your hands don't even come together from the wideness of his upper back. As he feasts upon your neck, you rake your nails on his sweaty scalp, making him groan into your skin. So far, you are completely ignorant about how things escalated since you step into his trailer. You just simply can't bring yourself to care.

Chris tugs at the hem of your hoodie, a silent indication for you to remove it. You comply without any question and as soon as it comes off, his touches become more bolder. Pressing both of your naked chests together, he kisses and nips at your collarbone, lavs at the dip of your clavicle all the while letting his teeth graze at the soft skin. He follows the same movement on your throat and jaw before taking your earlobe between his teeth and gently bites down. You whine at the sensation as he kisses behind your ear and issues one demand, “I want you”.

That's the moment you know you are utterly and entirely his to do anything with and you don't even try to hold back the Yes that leaves your mouth in a whine.

At your permission, he settles both of his large hands on your hips and marvles at how they engulf the entirety of your narrow waist. Still kissing, he sneaks his hands down your waist to rest them on your ass before squeezing both cheeks roughly that has you moaning in his mouth.

At some point, Chris aligns both your hips together and thrusts forward and your eyes immediately roll back from the hard press of his large bulge against your own erection. Yes, he is going to split you open and you will absolutely let him.

But first, you need to worship the Greek god in front of you. Trace each dip and swell of his muscles with your tongue, have that heavy cock down your throat and then let him wreck you however he wants.

Mind made up, you try and push him away to make enough room. He looks at you with a puzzled expression and then slowly realization dawns on him, perhaps your needy expression gave you away. But you can only care less as he grins and let his hands fall at his sides.

Having enough space, you move forward to press a shy kiss on top of his left pec. The muscle feeling hard on your lips as a low groan leaves from the person above you. Pleased with his reaction, you grow more confident with your touches and shower open mouthed kisses along every inch of his tanned skin, tongue darting out to chase the salty taste of his sweat leaving a wet trail of saliva in it's wake.

While your mouth is busy worshipping his glorious abs, your hands roam on his strong biceps and equally dense triceps. You can hear him panting lightly as his hands gently pushing down on your shoulders to get you on your knees.

Your knees gently hits the soft carpet and you look up at him wide wide eyes, flushed cheeks and swollen lips. Chris curses at the sight of you and combs his rough, thick fingers through your soft locks and buries your face in his crotch. You grip at his strong thighs for support and inhale his strong musky scent, making you moan and leak inside your boxers.

He's so hard and the press of his hard, long and thick cock against your cheek feels every bit the exciting and terrifying. You can feel the heat of his members even through the fabric of his shorts as you mouth at his covered shaft hungrily.

“Fuck baby, c'mon. Pull it out. I wanna feel your pretty lips wrapped around me”, rasps the man in his deep Australian accent, making you bite your lip from moaning out loud.

You scramble to obey him and tug his already unlaced shorts down to his thighs. And immediately, his engorged erection springs free and slaps you across the cheek. Your eyes widen at the sight in front of you as you take in the size of Chris Hemsworth's beast of a cock.

It's long and as thick as your wrist, the tip is swollen and an angry shade of red with precum beading at the slit, veins running around the shaft and a thick vein at the underside, a nice thatch of dark blonde pubic hair at the base. So big. You drool at the thought of having it in your mouth and look down to spot his heavy looking balls that are not surprisingly also large, hanging between his thighs. They look so full, I wonder how much cum they can produce. You think in awe.

In no time, Chris grips your soft (h/c) locks and tugs you forward. You comply happily and wrap your lips around the thick spongey head. Throwing his head back, Chris groans at the feel of your soft lips on his sensitive glans. So hot and wet.

Pleased with his response, you press your tongue flat on the slit and lick up all the salty-sweet precum constantly dripping from his cock. The taste is strongly exquisite and you double down your effort to taste it more. Swirling your tongue expertly around the head, you try to take him deeper all the while gripping his strong thighs for support.

Chris watches is amazement as you continue to deep-throat him. Occasional low grunts leaving his lips as you bob your head up and down on his thick shaft. Spit and drool covering your chin as you gag and choke on his length. Chris swears at your relentless pace on sucking his cock. Even if you can't take him all the way down to your throat, you compensate with wrapping both hands around the missed portion. Jerking in time of your head movement.

You can feel Chris' thighs shaking as he presses one palm on the wall behind you and you realize that he is close. Moaning loudly around his cock, you continue faster than before and with both hands on his hips, you urge him to fuck your face. Chris immediately starts thrusting inside your warm mouth, a litany of curses falling from his lips.

You choke everytime the tip bumps the back of your throat but you don't give him any sign to stop. Drool making his cock shiny and slick as it travels down the base of his cock onto his heavy hanging balls. Wet slurping and gagging noises fill the room along with Chris Hemsworth's groans of pleasure.

“Fuck baby, I'm close. You want my cum?” Chris groans out between heavy pants as he looks down to see you looking pleadingly up at him.

“Mmm” is all you can say with your mouth full of his incredible cock but it's all he needed to hear before urgently thrusting a couple of more times and finally you can feel the warm rush of Chris Hemsworth's cum on your tongue. The taste of his sweet and salty seed in your mouth coaxing you to moan in delight as you swallow every single drop.

After he stops coming, you pull out his cock from your mouth with an audible pop and lick the remnants off of it. Looking up at him through your lashes as you press your tongue on the slit and wrapping your lips around it to give it a fierce suck to draw out any left behind, already hungry for more.

Chris watches with lidded eyes as his lustful gaze travels all over your body, blown wide pupils zeroing on your face. Cheeks flushed, eyes puffy and glistening, lips parted around his already hardening cock, chin covered in drool and cum, hair in a tangled mess. You're the perfect picture of debauchery and he can't waste anymore time.

With a hungry growl, he picks you up from the floor. Strong hands gripping the underside of your thighs to hoist you up in his arms. Taking the cue, you throw your arms around his neck and legs around his waist as he carries you to the bedroom, lips on every inch of your neck, his coarse beard a delicious friction on your soft skin.

Once reaching the pristinely decorated room, Chris deposites you on the bed, promptly climbing on top of you and claiming your lips once more in a heated kiss. It doesn't take long for him to slide his lips and tongue down your jaw to hungrily mouth on your neck. You can't keep the whimpers of pleasure that leave you parted lips which seems to encourage him to continue with his ministrations.

One hand fisting on the sheets and other entangled in Chris' dirty blonde hair, you arch upward with a high pitched moan as he latches his lips onto one of your nipple. Biting and rolling the hardened nub between his teeth before gently tugging and blowing on it has you writhing in his hold.

“P-please”

“Please what, baby?” Chris growls around your other nipple. You shake your head, tears of sweet torture skipping down the side of your face.

Raising up on his forearms Chris grabs ahold of your face and leans down to whisper hotly, “I want you to say it”

“P-please t-touch me” cheeks aflame, you breath out. Chris smirks but complies. Sneaking his hands past your stomach to unbutton your jeans, tugging them down along with your boxers. His hand immediately wraps around your aching flesh, completely engulfed in his big, sturdy hand. Your eyes flutters shut as a long moan escapes your throat, Chris immediately swallowing it down by pressing his mouth to yours.

With his sure hand stroking up and down your cock, you find yourself running your hands all over his sun kissed muscular body. You can't get enough of off him. The way he dominates you, makes you feel good and the way he overwhelms you with his equally overwhelming figure is something you're sure you'll never find anywhere else again. He completely ruined you—ruining you—for any other man.

It takes a while for you to register that his other hand that wasn't occupied are now busy between you parted thighs. One thick finger prodding at your entrance, making you jolt up in surprise. “L-lube” you choke out, knowing that his big digits won't be comfortable for a dry intrusion and you want this as painless as possible. But the thought appears unconvincing as you watch Chris nod with a smile and gets up to retrieve lube from drawer, his big cock bobbing and swaying with his movements.

Chris returns with a small container of lube in his hand, squirting a generous amount on his digits before coating them nicely and dropping the container on the sheets.

“Relax. Let me loosen you up, hmm?” Chris says with his deep voice that immediately soothes you, allowing you to take a deep breath as the first finger approaches you. Chris rhythmically thrusts his index finger inside you and the initial discomfort fades away as you listen to him saying, “You're doing so good baby. Such a good boy, getting ready for my cock”

Hearing Chris saying those things to you doubles your pleasure but it compare to when his finger hit that sweet spot inside you that makes your toes curl and back arch, silent scream erupting from your throat, eyes wide from the sheer intensity of it.

Chris has a triumphant expression on his face as he thrusts on that spot repeatedly. And before you know, three of Chris' fingers are inside your ass, loosening your walls. Chris watched you as a string of pleas fall from your lips and he knows that you're close.

Suddenly, Chris pulls out his fingers, making you whine at the loss and the emptiness. Chris chuckles, “Don't worry baby. I'll fill you up with something much better”.

With that, you watch as he drops a generous amount of lube in his palm and coats his large flesh with the substance. Chris shuffles closer, pressing the tip to your entrance as he looks at you for permission. You nod without hesitation, aching to be filled with his monstrous cock.

As the fat head of his cock pushes past the ring of your muscle, you already find yourself breathless. Winding your arms around his neck, you encourage him to go on. And he does. Chris pushes the entirety of his large manhood inside you tight channel with one long thrust. “Fuck” Chris grunts from how tightly your walls are gripping his cock “You're so fucking tight”

Meanwhile, an actual scream erupts from your throat as you feel him reaching so deep inside of you, at the same time stretching you so wide. The pain and pleasure making your senses go haywire as a sob rips from your core.

“You're so- so big”

Chris can't response. Not when he feels this good. He can already feel the tingling in his balls, already churning and filling up with cum. He can no longer hold back. He needs to move. To pound into your tight- sweet ass till both of you can't remember your names.

“Fuck, baby. I need to move. Can I move?” Chris grits out, muscles straining from the effort of holding back.

Overwhelmed yourself, you lock your ankles behind his back and can only nod. But thankfully Chris notices as a sigh of relief leaves his lips. It soon changes into a look of determination as he pulls back till only the tip is inside before slamming back in with full force.

It jolts you from you position but soon after Chris' hand grabs your hips in a tight grip and his powerful hips starts thrusting without inhibition. It's like a dam has been broken the way Chris delivers each of his thrusts. Both of you are a moaning and groaning mess.

Chris hits every right spot inside you that makes you toe curl. You watch transfixed as his powerful body collides with your much smaller and petite one. Every single muscle in his body looks on overdrive with each snap of his hips. Sweat sprouting on his forehead, some of it gathering between the slope of his pecs making it glisten in daylight. Every fibre of muscle in his biceps bulging with how tightly he's grabbing your hips, sure to leave marks in it's wake. His abs also glistening from sweat, tightening with tension as a few drops gathering on his dark blonde pubes. In this moment of passion, you realize you have never seen a man so handsome, masculine and equally beautiful in you life. And said man is now giving you the wildest ride of your life.

“You feel so good, baby. So fucking good”

Your response in only a choked moan. But you somehow manage to let out, “Harder, Chris. Please, harder”

“Yeah? You want me to go hard, baby?”

Again, you can only nod. But Chris grants you wishes. With one swift movement, he flips you onto your stomach. Roughly pulling your ass up and smashing your face onto the pillow, he slides back in. Every inch of his glorious cock and starts to pound harder than ever.

You bite onto the pillow to muffle your sounds but Chris leans down and grabs you chin, murmuring in you ear, “Don't cover your sounds. I want to hear them. I want to hear you scream my name baby”

With that, he pulls his cock back slowly, letting you feel the delicious drag of cock inside of you before snapping back in and immediately hitting your prostate. Your eyes snap open as he makes you scream as promised, “Nnghh!!!Chris!!!”

After that, Chris doesn't relent. He jabs at your prostate with his cock mercilessly. His heavy balls slapping against your ass as he thrusts from behind and you push your ass back in time of his thrusts to meet him halfway. Yes yes please please Chris words fall from your lips like mantra.

“Yeah? You like that? You like my big cock inside your sweet ass?”

“Yes yes” you nod your head frantically

“Tell me how much you like my big fat cock”

“So much. Please”

“Yeah? And what do you want?”

“I want— oh yes —I want your cum”

“Fuck”

Chris again flips you onto your back. Pushing back in and setting up his rhythmic thrusts, he leans down and starts sucking bruises on your neck and shoulder. By the time both of your breath becomes heavier and pants starts to grow louder, you can't hold back anymore. Without even touching, your cock is ready to explode.

“C-Chris, I'm coming”

“Shit, baby. Me too. Cum with me”

And with one last precise thrust that hits you right in your sweet spot you're coming all over yourself. Cum landing on your stomach and pooling on your lower belly.

At the same time, Chris lets out a low growl and comes inside you in long spurts. You can feels his hot seed coating your inner walls, painting them white. There's so much of it that it starts to leak around his cock, still deep inside you. Your cock gives a weak little twitch from the sensation and then Chris collapses right on top of you. Your lithe body squished beneath his sweaty bulky one.

“That was fucking amazing” Chris breathes out, face buried in your neck.

“Yes. I loved it” you giggle, looping your arms around his shoulders and stroking his sweat drenched hair.

Chris looks up at you and grins. Dorky and satisfied. “Shower?”

You nod shyly. Chris tugs you up by the wrist and guides you towards the end suite bathroom.

On the way there Chris slaps one of your ass cheeks and smirks suggestively down at you. “Next time, I'm eating this out before doing anything else”

You feel your cheeks boil as he laughs his famous booming laughter. But neither you can contain the smile that tugs at the corner of your lips.

Next time

A/N (2) : phew! At last. I'm sorry guys this fic is too much lengthy. I always feel the need to explain every single situation in my fics also very prolonged and detailed smut. And honestly it's so much tiring and mentally strenuous as fuck. So I swore to myself that I'm going to keep my thought process at minimum from now on. On second note, I don't know shit about a movie's costume making process, i just made the whole thing up. Guilty. Again, I'm sorry if the story longivity bothers you guys, I'm trying my best. See y'all soon with another of my groundbreaking fic Lol ;P

#chris hemsworth #chris hemsworth x reader #chris hemsworth x male reader #chris hemsworth x m!reader #chris hemsworth imagine #chris hemswoth fic #chris hemsworth smut #x male reader #male reader insert #smut #gay fiction #regalevansworthfic

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orchidyoonkook · 1 year

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To What We Were Before, And All The Things After | JJK | Ch. 1

Title: Assembly’s and Introductions

Pairing: Prince!College Student!JK x Fine Arts Major!(F)!Reader

Series Rating//Genre: (M) | College AU, Smut, Angst, Fluff, S2F2L, Mild Indiffernce to lovers, sloooowwww ass burn

Summary: There’s a new kid at your prestigious university, he’s tall, tattooed and muscular, and oh yeah, he’s the Prince.

Warnings: PG13, mild swearing, a general ‘lets get the ball rolling’ first chapter

Word Count: 5410

Release Date: January 26, 2023, 12:40PM

A/N 1: I’ve been working on this since September 2022, got 80K in, and have accidentally taken an extended break from Dec 1st until now. I need a kick in the pants to continue writing it so here’s the first chapter. I hope you enjoy as I have read this about 400 times and I’m sick of editing it.

A/N 1.5: it’s pronounced ‘Nehl” not “Neal”

“Come on, come ooooon!!” Yuri says as she drags you by one arm down the corridor, the other filled with books and study notes. You’re being dragged from your mid morning study session and she's starting to stretch your favourite sweater from how hard she’s pulling.

Slipping from her grasp to save it from any permanent damage, Yuri uses her new freedom to take the lead.

“Not everyone cares as much about this as you do,” you say, rolling your eyes. “I get you’re here because your parents put you here but I worked for it. I can’t just abandon my study plans for some guy,” voice echoing in the corridor as you succeed in keeping up with her quick pace.

Yuri mocks your words in gibberish, matching your tone, just more nasally.

She’s heard this hundreds of times since becoming your best friend in first year after being assigned your roommate. She may force you to go to places and parties you don’t find nearly as important as she does, but you also know she’s the only reason you’ve had any fun since starting university.

That doesn’t deter you though.

“I’m serious,” you insist, refusing to back down.

A look you know well flashes over her face. One that’s a mixture of absurdity and exhaustion— specifically at you.

“You know, sometimes I can’t even believe we’re friends. He’s not just some guy YN,” she looks over her shoulder to make eye contact. “He's the prince.”

Ah yes, the prince.

How could you be so foolish?

The fancy name given to the poor bastard who doesn’t get to decide his future—or work for it for that matter. Just has it handed to him because he was born at the right place, right time.

The prince who’ll be king to the biggest nation in the west one day.

The prince everyone freaks out over.

Sure, he’s cute enough, and will eventually have lots of money and power, because those are so important for someone like him.

But what’s money and power if you’re miserable or an asshole or you don’t know what to do with it? What’s money and power for someone who’s never known poverty and helplessness?

The title of Prince means nothing if you don’t earn it. Means nothing if you don’t know how to use it properly.

Who knows if this one does? So why should you particularly care?

Unfortunately, most people can’t get past the ‘young, handsome, future king of the Western Shores, hunk-a-hunk of dreamy’—blah, blah, blah, the media splatters over every magazine cover they possibly can, earning the prince a hefty social following of adoring, screaming—slightly brain dead if you had any say about it— ‘followers’ aka fans.

And Yuri, like every other girl on campus, is one of them. Minus the brain dead and screaming.

Well…Sort of minus the screaming.

She has screamed, in the past at least. So maybe just minus the brain dead part…

Anyways, she’s grabbing your wrist and you sigh, wringing yourself free of her near iron grip, again. But you can’t blame her.

Yuri’s focused on one thing, and one thing only.

And it’s beginning in 15 minutes.

“Plus I want good seats!”

You scoff.

“He’s just a person, Yuri. I get he’s got an important title and fancy job, but that’s all that separates him from us.”

She glares at you as you reach the courtyard of your school.

Trees surround the perimeter in evenly placed lines, a large running fountain at its center. There’s plenty of open grass space the students use to study, picnic or throw a ball around on. And its cobblestone walkways are currently covered in rows upon rows of filled up seats.

Most of those filled seats are in the middle though, which surprises you. You would’ve thought girls would be lining up at the front row to see their prince.

“Yeah, just the title and fancy job,” Yuri says, taking her turn to scoff and opens her hand to count on her fingers. “Let's not count the fact that he’s insanely hot—have you seen his body? His face? Or what of the land he’ll inherit on top of the land he already owns? And money! Can’t forget that. Or clothes. Not enough? I can keep going,” she switches to her other hand. “How about control over the largest kingdom in The West? They don't call him ‘Prince of the Western Shores’ for nothing, Sweets. Also the mass of adoring fans, security and advisors following his every move, nice cars, fancy vacation houses…should I keep going?”

You’re pretty sure she only stopped because she ran out of fingers and you don’t deign her with a reply. Yuri seems content to have made her point and she did.

But you’d never admit that to her. Instead you keep walking, taking in the sights around you.

Your school is The Royal Academy of Business and Fine Arts. Anyone can study here if they have the cash, or the brains, though one method is much more abused than the other.

It’s one of the most prestigious schools in the world because it’s where nearly every royal on this half of the continent goes to university. Hence the “Royal'' in the title.

Ladys, lords, dukes, duchesses, princesses and yes, princes all go here—are most of your classmates, actually. But there is only one prince everyone cares about. The one who, in the next few short years, will not only be at your school for whatever it is his father deems appropriate for him to study in his post secondary education, but the one who is also first in line and heir to the biggest kingdom in The West—if it hadn’t been mentioned before.

His Royal Highness, Prince Jeon Jungkook.

Okay… look.

It’s not that you don’t like him, he hasn’t done anything to make you hate him, and you’re sure he’s a decent guy once you get to know him.

It’s just that you don’t really feel any type of way about him, positive or negative. And that confuses so many people around you.

Which in turn, confuses you.

Most people seem to think he’s some sort of god sent angel carved by the hands of whoever created the universe. Fawning over him and thinking he can do no wrong. But what they all fail to see is that he’s just like them.

Got a bit more of a leg up on life than most, sure, but still human. Like you, or Yuri.

He eats and showers and uses the bathroom. He gets a runny nose and puffy eyes when he’s sick. He has bad hair days and ties his own shoes… you think.

He’s just a regular guy with an irregular job. So no, you had no opinion on him other than disinterested neutrality.

But if you had to feel something? You guess you probably felt pity.

You worked your ass off in highschool to get where you are. You and your mom screamed until your voices were hoarse when you got your acceptance letter two and a half years ago. One of 25 scholarship students accepted on a full ride every year.

You were doing a major in fine arts and a minor business, wanting to milk your education for all it’s worth on their dime. Lucking out that your two areas of interest were not only at one school, but at one of the best schools in the world for both subjects.

You chose what you wanted for your life and you worked for it for years. And now you sit comfortably at the top of your class in both fine arts and business, not taking your opportunity for granted for a second.

Jungkook though? He’s expected to go here. Doesn’t have much of a choice about it, and he doesn’t have to work for it either.

A small part of you that has yet to mature envies him for how easy he has it, for the privileges he is given simply because of one six letter word in front of his name. That he didn’t have to put in 60 hour weeks and give up his teenage years just to prove he was good enough to be here.

He was born good enough.

But that’s a small part of you, and you can ignore it if you try hard enough.

The point is you felt pity because he’s probably never had to work for something a day in his life. He doesn’t know the satisfaction of working towards something, to not only succeed, but to be the best.

To earn what he has.

He won’t know what to do when real life hits him.

Yuri lets a baby scream loose as she spots her desired seats and yanks you out of your thought spiral.

The front of the courtyard is still relatively empty, middle still filling up faster than anything else.

“Yes! Score! First row, left side, that’s perfect! He'll definitely see us.”

She grabs your arm a third time and it’s an effort not to drop your books and groan at her.

Yuri’s like you in the sense where she is not royalty, but unlike you she—or should you say, her parents—are loaded.

Family business perks.

She’s here because she can be, because her family can afford to send her and make donations, not because she wants to be or because she worked for it.

But don’t misunderstand that, Yuri works hard. She just happens to party more than she studies most days. That and plan her future with a very rich and handsome guy who has yet to be determined.

You’d jokingly deemed her a royalty hunter after about an hour of meeting her for how badly she wanted to ‘marry up.’

“See you,” you correct, or has she forgotten about Nel, your boyfriend of 5 years? Your high school sweetheart and who is currently, much to your dismay, at school about 5000 miles away.

“I’m sure Cornelius wouldn’t be mad if the prince charms his girl just once, seeing as his royal highness can do that to most people just by breathing near them,” she quips. ”And even if he would get mad, Jungkook can just have him thrown in a dungeon for being overprotective and jealous.”

“The royal palace doesn’t have dungeons, but they do have a series of interrogation rooms on the third lower level,” you inform her. You did a project on the history and architecture of the royal palace in tenth grade—and Nel really wouldn’t care, he knows where he stands, just like you do.

“How do you just know that!”

Yuri didn’t know you in highschool and you used that to your advantage every single time you could, laughing bright and loud.

She starts dragging you down the walkway again, a habit of hers. Like she’s worried you’ll try to slip away if she isn’t forcing you where she wants you to be.

It’s a good instinct on her part.

You're nearly there, so you focus more on the trees just starting to turn colours overhead, casting slightly pigmented shadows on the ground. Fall is just starting to creep up on the heels of summer, the days of sunscreen and chlorine slowly being replaced by pumpkin spice and crisp apples.

She sits exactly where she wanted too, and you plop beside her, glad you’re wearing a light sweater and tights. They are just warm enough to keep the slight breeze from giving you chills, but also keep your legs from sticking to the plastic seats.

For such an expensive school to go to you’d think they’d have better assembly furniture.

You notice a news camera off in the distance and suddenly understand the empty front seats. No one wants to publicly embarrass themselves on national television from seeing the prince, rewindable and replayable, forever seared into the internet.

It’s times like these you’re happy you’ve never been one to get starstruck. They’re all just people, why be shocked or surprised when they exist near you?

Opening up your books on your lap, you figure you can kill the next ten minutes in a productive way, considering what happened to your original plans for the mid morning.

And as you do, you feel the seats around you begin to fill, not a single one empty by the time the event starts. Not even the ones up front.

A jerked movement catches your eyes and you see that two seats closer to the pedestal from Yuri is Adaline.

Great.

Adaline Dupree is basically a princess from the Eastern Shores. ‘Basically’ because she’s not, but she certainly acts like she is. A fake princess, an even bigger royalty hunter than your best friend and your not so secret arch nemesis.

She’s in your fine arts classes—all of them, unfortunately—her proper title being ‘Duchess of…’ some province you never bothered to learn the name of, and she’s one of the most well known people on campus.

Tall, with beautiful blonde hair, hazel eyes, freckles, a slim figure and quite the socialite. You’re surprised she went into fine arts and not modeling. She’s got the ego part of the job down pat.

Good for her for being pretty. But anyone could be beautiful on the outside with enough money and a surgeon. That’s not why you considered her your nemesis, you don’t give a shit about any of that.

She was your nemesis in the academic world. Because not only was she beautiful, she was also brilliant at her craft.

Which happened to also be your craft, and it pissed you off to no end.

Where you were first, she was second and where she was first, you were second. Always neck in neck with one another, always trying to one up each other.

You only considered yourself better than her because unlike her, you hoped at least, Adaline was a complete and total bitch. She took what she wanted without remorse and she wasn’t above sabotage to get it.

You learned that the hard way in your first year. And you’ve always wondered if that was her privileged upbringing speaking or if she’s just like that naturally, so unused to not getting what she wanted that she’d take it.

Therefore, it is of absolutely no shock to you that she’s sitting as close as she possibly can to where the prince will be standing. Directly in front of the pedestal at the base of the fountain in the center of the courtyard.

A door opens to your right followed by a couple screams, and you can only assume the man of the hour has arrived. A red camera light flicks on in your peripheral vision and you take that as your confirmation and cue to close your books.

The Dean of Schools, a few advisor looking people, a good handful of terrifyingly large security guards, and a head of black hair you conclude to be the prince all make their way towards their destination.

A smirk graces your face at all the girls batting eyelashes or screaming his name, as if that would get his attention. You’re about to mention that exact thought to Yuri, but you notice her eyelashes looking awfully similar to those around you and can’t help failing to stifle a laugh.

She catches it. “What?”

“Nothing,” you say. “You might just want to pick your jaw up off the ground.”

Her response gets cut off when a voice comes over the speakers.

“Ladies and gentlemen, thank you for such a warm welcome,” says the Dean, calm and assured. She knew exactly the welcome they'd receive. “I’ll keep my introduction short. Today, I present to you not only the newest addition to The Royal Academy of Business and Fine Arts, but the future King of our great nation. He has requested to formally address the student body before he starts classes this fall semester, so without further adieu: His Royal Highness, Prince Jeon Jungkook.”

Riigghht. Did you mention he was the prince of the country you’re living in?

Well…he is.

The crowd soars in volume once more, a couple “I love you’s” thrown in for good measure as the prince steps up and you zone out.

From your angle, you can see his whole body from the side, and that even though he’s holding cue cards, he doesn’t use them, placing them face down on the pedestal.

His dark hair is swept back in a suave styling and he’s wearing a simple navy long sleeve button up, black dress pants and matching leather shoes.

The outfit makes him look ever so princely and very much not like a student. More like one of the faculty.

However, what you don’t expect are the small patches of ink on his arm peeking out of his right sleeve. Or just how tight the clothes he wears are on his apparently very muscular form.

You remember Yuri’s words from earlier, only now registering. You knew he had muscles, no one ever shut up about them. But seeing them in person… wow.

You kind of want to sketch him—for anatomy practice, of course.

The prince begins his address to the crowd and an eerie silence replaces the roars from earlier. You take a quick look around and notice that not one person isn’t completely transfixed on him. Even the dean can’t keep her eyes off him.

You give him credit for not balking under the intense gazes of literally everyone. You know you sure as hell would have, never being one to like being the center of attention. At least, not like this.

You clue into his speech as you look back at him. He’s talking about how he found himself as a teenager thinking of what he wanted his future to look like and what he wanted to do with his schooling, which is not only why he took a couple years to explore the continent before enrolling, but why he will be doing a major and a minor at the school.

One for his career, and one for his heart.

You won’t admit to yourself that the sentiment very closely resonates with you.

He continues.

“All that said, I asked to address you all today for one very simple reason, being that, for my time here at the academy, I wish to be treated like any other student. I am not unaware of my celebrity and how I am seen to the outside world. It is not lost on me my place in the world and who I am to become. I know for some that it may be… difficult to see me for anything other than who I am, and this is why I ask you humbly, just for the short while that I’m here, you all treat me no differently than you already do one another,” he pauses for a moment. “I extend my request most deeply to those who will be studying alongside me in my business administration major and photography minor, as I don’t want it to affect my studies.”

Yuri slaps her hand down onto your leg causing you to jerk forward and you clamor to not drop any of your books. Business administration is her major. Her parents want her to take over the family biz after school.

That was probably why she partied so much. Living as much as she can before being thrust into a job she doesn’t want for the rest of her life.

Pity creeps back up your throat at the thought.

Jungkook notices your jerking movement, but only for a second. His eyes meet yours and you hope yours convey ‘sorry for interrupting’.

You may not care about him, but just like him you are not unaware of his status in the world outside the walls of your school.

Yuri, of course, thinks he’s looking at her and not only does her grip on your leg tighten to the point of circulation cut off, she returns to her earlier routine of batting her eyelashes.

You roll your eyes away from her sight, but unbeknownst to you, well within the gaze of Jungkook.

He suppresses a smile at your response to your friend's clear attempts to gain his attention.

You, on the other hand, seem indifferent to him. He has the entire student body watching his every move with hawk-like precision, enraptured. Normal, for him.

But you?

You just seem to… not care. Like he wasn’t anyone special. Like the word in front of his name meant nothing.

And if it wasn't the most freeing feeling he’s felt in a long time.

“Thank you so much for your time, and I’ll see you all around campus,” he finishes before stepping down, security wrapping around him again until he’s barely visible. The dean pops up to conclude the gathering but you aren’t paying attention anymore, too busy trying to peel Yuri’s hand off your thigh.

“Yuri, retract the claws please!” you whisper-yell to your friend. And she does in fact, retract instantly.

“Shit, sorry. My brain is running a million miles a minute,” she says as she pinches herself, shaking her head and smiling. “I’m three years ahead of him in his major. His major YN! But he’s still older than us, which is so hot. I'm so glad he did that tour in the east and whatever else that kept him back for a couple years, it makes this whole situation even better,” you start to worry at the look in her eye as she continues.

“What if he needs a tutor? What if I become his tutor, and we fall in love like a cliche romance movie. I could be the future queen. YN, this could actually happen for me. I could actually get the prince, it’s not some wild dream anymore. I could talk to him and he would talk back and this could happen.”

You can feel that she’ll just keep spiraling, nothing being able to stop her train of thought at this point, so you try your best to at least have her do her thinking in her head.

“Maybe! I wish you nothing but luck!” And you mean it. You don’t think it will happen the way she does, but you never know. And you don’t want to give her false hope.

You’ve always been the realist to Yuri’s optimist.

With the assembly over, most of the crowd files out of the courtyard quickly, prior plans calling to them or classes starting soon.

Only a few stragglers are left behind. You and Yuri are two of them, as well as Adaline, and a couple more you don’t know.

Security starts to spread out and you watch as Jungkook makes his way to the people farthest from you, much to their delight.

It’s a group of guys, all of whom look muscular enough to be varsity athletes. Maybe Jungkook will want to do sports while he’s here. You know that he’s an accomplished rugby player, greatly to his fathers dismay, but to the pleasure of anyone who has about $10 and has access to magazines or wifi.

“Oh my god he’s making his way over. Do. Not. Move. I want him to come to us,” Yuri says, forcing you to stay in your spot. It would be fruitless to try anything anyway. Another lesson you learned the hard way in first year.

She starts fluffing her hair and asking you to check her teeth. You do. She’s in the clear.

Unfortunately, you two would most likely be the last people he greeted, so you had to watch as he made his way down the line of people.

He greets the guys with a handshake and a clap to the back, and the girls with a kiss to the top of the hand.

One thing you notice as he meets more and more people is that everyone still calls him ‘prince’ or ‘your highness.’

It’s automatic for them, they’re not even thinking twice about it, but it’s also completely besides the point of half of his whole speech. He wanted to be treated like everybody else.

It especially irked you when it was Adaline’s turn and she put on her most feminine, formal, and ridiculously overly flirty, “Hello, Prince Jungkook,” before curtseying, blasting her full facade of charm and courteousness.

Ever the dainty, prim and proper duchess, she’s all small laughs and less than subtle flirting, never impolite, and never speaking out of turn.

You wanted to gag, and you’re quite sure that’s exactly what your face conveyed. But Jungkook smiles wide for her, and is as kind to her as he was to everyone else prior. He even flirts back a little bit.

Yeah, you definitely want to gag. What a match those two would make.

But just as soon as he greets Adaline and her friend, he politely steps away and moves on to you and Yuri.

“Hello ladies, what might your names be?” he asks ever so formally.

You gently laugh at being called a lady and Yuri shoots you a look. Jungkook doesn’t appear to take offense though.

“Hello, your highness!” Yuri chirps in the most ‘I'm trying to flirt but trying to not sound like I’m flirting’ voice you’ve ever heard her use. “My name is Yuri Yeun, and I’m actually a business admin major too, just a few years ahead.”

Jungkook lifts her hand to his mouth, giving it a light kiss and she looks like she’s about to explode.

“It’s lovely to meet you Yuri, I’ll look forward to seeing you around the halls,” he says in the same tone he’s used for everyone else. He’s about to face you, but Yuri cuts in quickly.

“If you ever need any help with your studies, just let me know. I’d be happy to help you with anything you might need help with. Having already been through it, I may be able to give a students insight versus a professors.”

“I’ll keep that in mind for the future. Thank you for your generosity.” Again that same tone, you mentally dub it his ‘greeting the public like the ever so good royal I am’ voice.

He turns to you and extends his hand for yours.

You reach for it, twisting it so that instead of a hand turned upright to be kissed, it’s a regular handshake. If he wanted to be treated like anyone else here, you sure as hell were going to.

“I’m YN, it’s nice to meet you Jungkook.” At the mention of his name untitled, he pauses, eyes widening ever so slightly. It’s not a bad pause, just a surprised one. And by the looks of the small smile on his face, a good one.

Yuri's eyes, on the other hand, almost bug out of her skull at your informal greeting.

“Likewise,” he manages to get out, completely unlike his usually composed self.

You're the only one who hasn’t addressed him with his title, and it’s the most like him he’s ever felt.

Twice in one day—in one hour—you’ve managed to make him feel more human and more like himself than he ever has. With your distinct indifference to him of all things.

Jungkook decides then and there he’s very sure he wants more of it in his life.

He still hasn’t stopped shaking your hand, and you don’t know why that’s the only thing you can focus on. His hand is firm and calloused, the kind that can only be built over years of hard work.

Releasing you the second you think it, he looks as if he hadn’t realized he was still holding on too.

Quick to step back into his princely role, Jungkook says, “Pardon my forwardness, but I just have to say that the two of you are beautiful, and that it’s been lovely to meet you both.”

You swear you see Yuri’s soul ascend from her body at his words. “Thank you, Your Highness! That means so much coming from someone as well met as yourself,” she nearly fawns, and you roll your eyes out of her sight for the second time today.

And for the second time today, Jungkook does not let the gesture go unnoticed. How you hold no fear in showing how you feel in front of others, even those you’ve just met. As if it holds no consequence.

It doesn’t for you, he realizes.

You can freely show how you feel without worry of anyone over-analyzing your every facial tic. No fear that a slight misuse of a lip quirk or eyebrow raise could give away national secrets or offend a visiting diplomat.

He envies you for it. For having that freedom he so rarely does.

“You’re most welcome, Yuri. I’m glad you hold my opinion in such high regard.” He flashes her that well practiced bright smile and you already know what she won’t be shutting up about it anytime soon.

“I’ve always been told I have my fathers bone structure but my mothers beauty. I’ll be sure to let them know their Prince thinks the combination is worth complimenting,” you respond, not braggadocious or sarcastic in the slightest.

You know it would make your mom so proud to hear the future king found you pretty, even if you knew the compliment was given to every girl here.

Your father wasn’t in the picture, but that didn’t matter and the prince didn’t need to know.

“I hope they won’t mind a stranger's compliment on their daughter then,” Jungkook says, ducking his head slightly and giving you a smaller smile.

This one felt genuine, like he wanted to hold it back but couldn’t. So you return a small one of your own, to let him know this was an even exchange. You may not feel any type of way about the prince, but you were raised to be kind.

“Any praise for their daughter from the future King would be welcomed any day, I’m sure,” Yuri cuts back in, killing his smile along with it.

You’re sad to see it go.

“I’m relieved to hear it,” he responds, princely public persona back on. Stupid flashy smile back on. “What will you two be heading off to do now?”

“What I wanted to be doing for the last half hour in the first place before being hauled down here by this one,” you point a thumb at Yuri. “Finishing my study hour at the library,” you add quickly, before Yuri can get out her answer. You almost wish you hadn't because the hand that had your thigh in a death grip earlier now only somewhat playfully swats your shoulder.

“YN!”

“What!? I’m just being honest. He wants to be treated like anyone else right? That comes with people being honest to you instead of glazing over their answers with pretty little white lies to appease you.”

Yuri looks ready to rip you a new one, but she’s cut off again before she can open her mouth. This time by the prince.

“No, no it’s okay,” Jungkook says before she can swat you again. She stops mid swing at his words, eyes as wide as saucers at being stopped. “YN’s right, I appreciate the honesty, and I apologize for the interruption. I hope your studies will not be too greatly affected because of it.”

“Guess we’ll find out during midterm season,” you say with a smirk that turns into a genuine smile as you see Jungkook look panicked, like he actually thinks he messed up your education by disturbing your study session.

Relief quickly replaces the panic when he sees your smile and realises it was a joke.

Being treated like a regular person also meant being joked with at their expense, and he takes it in stride as his small smile from earlier makes a comeback.

“Well I have class in half an hour,” Yuri says, finally answering his question, “So probably grabbing a coffee from the cafe near the biz-admin building… I could show you if you want?”

“That sounds great actually, I’m still trying to figure out where everything is.”

“Great! Let’s go.”

Jungkook, ever the gentleman, lifts an arm for her to take and you watch them walk off, Yuri absolutely beaming as she glances back at you. You give her a thumbs up before collecting your books and heading back in the direction of the library.

Chapter Two: Unknown Numbers and Sharp Tongues

A/N 2: and so it begins.

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aberfaeth · 13 days

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don't give it a hand, offer it a soul

[dimension 20: fantasy high, Jace/Porter, missing scenes, coworkers with benefits to ???. ch 5/5, 21.8k.]

Porter taps his fingers on the grip of his maul. The beat is slightly out of pace with his steps. “Actually, I do wish we had more orange juice. That shit’s been working well to mask the taste.” “Well, you should have thought of that earlier.” Jace stretches up a hand to idly mess with the rough hunk of stone at the top of the maul. After a long minute, Porter lightly bats his fingers away. “Last time doing this, too, so it’s your funeral.” “Doing what?” Porter says. Jace laughs. The sound peters out, cut off immediately by Porter’s expression of genuine confusion. “The ritual? This is our last time doing the ritual.” “Right,” Porter says. Then again, just a notch quieter: “Right.” *** Five rituals, over the course of ten months.

happy finale day everybody!!! thus concludes our adventure as well, hope you had a good time and also sorry :) this fic has been such a joy to write, mostly because of how lovely @jadeandquartzes has been as a writing partner. thank you endlessly for all of the emotional devestation you’ve wrought upon me—its been a blast 💛

read chapter five of don't give it a hand, offer it a soul here!

start from the beginning here!

#dimension 20 #fantasy high junior year #starbreaker #porter cliffbreaker #jace stardiamond #fhjy #fh #d20 #c.docx

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straykids-97 · 1 year

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Vexation

‘There’s nothing so infinite vexation as man’s own thoughts.’

Chan doesn’t like when someone touches what his…

Warnings: Dom! Chan, sub!Reader, (Chan’s a meanie), jealousy, angry sex, spanking, teasing, masturbation(f receiving), unprotected sex (wrap before you tap), soft Chan at the end (aftercare ♥️), dirty talk, dacryphilia, corporation kink, (if you squint), lmk if I forgot anything :)

Word Count: 3.2k

You danced your heart out on the dance floor, your friend Felix laughing happily as you twirled with him. “I told you, you could dance!” He cheered, smiling so hard that his sweet brown eyes disappeared. “Only because we did shots!” You counter, a smile appearing on your face as well. Felix wrapped his arms around your body from behind, his deep laughing rattling your eardrum.

A few feet away, your boyfriend, Chan watched as his best friend squeezed his girlfriend. A twinge of jealousy pinched his heart, but he knew it was harmless. But his heart couldn’t be convinced. He knocked back the dark liquor in his grasp, and a warm hand on his shoulder made him turn to see the culprit; Lee Minho. Chan took a deep breath, “Bored already?” Lee Know hummed, leaning against the table, his eyes finding you and Felix just as Han joined the two of you on the dance floor. “I wouldn’t say bored…” he trailed off, a smirk on his lips as he slid into the chair next to Chan. “What about you? Bones ache? Can’t dance with y/n?” Chan scoffed, but it wasn’t humorous. He sounded annoyed. As usual, Minho caught on quickly, “Oh?” Chan didn’t reply, and his eyes never left the three people dancing, and he paid especially close attention to the hands and hips of his friends.

“What do they have that you don’t? You’re a man, Chris.” Minho hardly ever said Chan’s real name. But the use of it, made him turn to look at Minho. He was planning something, and Chan wasn’t sure if he would like it or not. “They are boys compared to you…” He leisurely stood up, stretching like a cat. “However…” Minho trailed off, climbing down the few stairs to the dance floor, Minho’s eyes never leaving Chan’s. “Minho..” Chan warned, his voice so low that only Minho could hear. Minho only smiled; a face-splitting, Cheshire cat-like grin. “You son-of-a-”

You sway your hips to the beat of the song, “What are you drinking, Han?” You shout over the bass. “Huh?” Han asks as he downs the rest of it. “Nothing now!” He laughs, making you roll your eyes and slap his shoulder. “I wanted some!” Han turned to see someone new approaching, making you twist to see Minho a few feet away. “Hello, y/n.” He purred, wrapping his arm around your waist. Your stomach flutters, “Mi-minho!” You blush, the amount of alcohol in your system made the simple gesture fluster you. He hums, “There’s a 5 foot 8 Australian hunk who may or may not have consumed a little too much alcohol. And,” he gets incredibly close to your ear, “may need a little push in the right direction for you to have a good night.” He pulls away and winks at you. “Don’t look at him. Look at me.” He cations as you try to look around him to see your boyfriend, but his words make you stop.

“I’m doing you a favor, pretty.” he winked at you, tucking a strand of hair behind your ear. You feel a shudder run down your spine, making you gasp softly. Minho chuckles, leaning into your face to speak again, “I think you and I both know, how you’re night will end if you play along.” You open your mouth to speak but you feel a rough hand on your forearm. “We’re leaving.” Chan’s voice growled, making you squeak. Minho lets you go, “Awe, ruin the fun!” Felix whines, but the glare that Chan shoots Felix makes him shrink behind Han, who also tries to hide.

Chan doesn’t care that you can’t keep up with his longer strides, stumbling, trying to keep up with him. “Ch-chan! Slow down!” You stutter as he pulls you outside of the club. You can hear the sound of the song, House of Cards playing over the speakers. He doesn’t speak as he opens the back door of the vehicle you had been driven to the club in. He doesn’t shove you into the car, but he’s not exactly gentle about it either when he nudged you inside the vehicle.

You settled beside him, completely baffled by how he was acting suddenly; Chan had never acted this way.

Ever.

You begin to nervously fidget, Minho’s words bouncing around your temporal lobe. “I’m doing you a favor.” You clear your throat, “Chan?” You whisper in a quiet voice, hoping that he can hear you. When he doesn’t reply, you sneak a peek in his direction. Chan was glowering out the window, his left first balled tightly by his knee, his right hand tucked under his chin to hold his head up. He’s angry, it was rolling off of him in red, hot waves. You wait a few moments and try again, this time, a little louder than before. “Channie?”

No reply.

You sigh in defeat, figuring that something happened and he didn’t want to talk about it right now. Copying the motions of your partner, you decide to look out the window of the Seoul nightlife that passed as you drove home.

The ride home was silent; painfully quiet. You hated when Chan was in a silent brood. All you wanted was for him to be happy; to see him smile for the rest of your life. But you knew that wasn��t possible, not with his line of work. He was stressed more often than not, and he hardly slept; or ate.

The driver pulls up to your apartment and you unbuckle as Chan thanks the driver and tells him that he won’t be coming back out to the car. Your blood runs cold; Chan never stayed the night. He always insisted that he couldn’t because of work.

You walk up the stairs toward your apartment, digging out your keys from your small clutch bag. Trying to ignore the fact that Chan seemed to have ulterior motives for the rest of the evening. You couldn’t hide that you were nervously shaking.

Chan hadn’t been intimate with you for some time. The comeback seemed to be weighing heavier on him than normal. He was always at the studio, working diligently alongside his bandmates. You didn’t feel neglected, you just knew that was the downside of being with a “rolling stone”.

The mere thought of what was to come had your heart racing. So much so, that you didn’t notice Chan was directly behind you, waiting for you to manage the lock on your door. After a few moments of struggle, you get the door open. You sigh and turn to see him watching you very carefully. You cleared your throat, “After you?” You didn’t mean for it to come out like a question.

He gestures to you, “I insist.” Always a gentleman, you think to yourself as you enter your home, reaching down to pull your heels off as Chan makes sure to close and lock your door. Neither of you bother with the entryway lighting, you would only be there for a moment anyway.

Chan follows behind you as you enter your living room, sliding the bag over your head. “So…” You trail off, unsure of how to start the conversation. You turn to see him the same distance away that he was when you unlocked the front door. To most people, it would have seemed creepy, but because he danced for a living, you chalked it up as what he called, “kinesphere”. Unless he wanted to be directly next to you, there was always an invisible bubble between himself and anyone around him. Just like how there was currently between the two of you.

“Did you have a good night? With Changbin? I saw that Minho joined later, as did Han.” You wave your hand as you talk, sauntering into your kitchen to get a drink of water to rid yourself of the cottonmouth caused by drinking before you get ready for bed. Chan says nothing as you try to create conversation. You turn to look at him again, seeing that he still never popped that bubble of space between the two of you.

You let out a huff of frustration as you move around him to go into the bathroom, turning the shower on and allowing it to warm up before going to your room and grabbing pajamas to wear after your shower. Chan is nowhere to be seen, and that makes you uneasy, so you peek your head into the hallway; not there either. Your heart leaps out of your chest as you slowly make your way back to the bathroom. Poking your head even slower than you had walked around the door jam, you find Chan leaning against the vanity, his dark eyes staring at you. You yelp, jumping with surprise, “My goodness! What are you acting like this!” You cry, holding your chest and stomping into the bathroom.

Tossing your new clothes into the sink, you begin to undress, “You've been ignoring me all night,” you rant, struggling with your zipper for a moment before you finally got it, “and you drag me away from the people who were giving me attention- not even in a bad way!” You toss your hands in the hair, growing more frustrated as you continue, “And now you won’t even speak to me!” You spin around to stare at him, “What is it that I have done to be treated like that?” Even though you had gone off on a tangent, you got no reply.

Take a deep breath and sigh, “Fine. Whatever. Give me the silent treatment.” You snap bitterly. “You know where the door is. I’m not spending the night with someone who refuses to speak to me, let alone touch me.”

You yank open the glass door of the shower cabin and slam it closed. You cringe slightly but ignore it for the most part. You twist your hair up into a sloppy bun and step into the warm water, wrapping your arms around yourself as you stand there. You knew you shouldn’t have said the last bit; you were angry. You were thankful for the opaque glass that now separated you and your boyfriend; you weren't sure how he would react to your words. And you didn’t want to see the aftermath of them at the moment.

But it wasn’t entirely a lie. The last few weeks you were hung out to dry, and you were just ending your ovulation cycle, to make matters worse. To say the least, you were sexually frustrated. You and Chan could hardly keep your hands off each other in public, and the lack thereof made you feel frustrated in the worst ways. No one could make you feel like Chan could, not even yourself. Orgasms didn’t feel the same without him.

After a few moments, you felt a cool breeze on your naked back, making you turn to see Chan joining you inside the shower. You turn back around, continuing your angry facade. Though guilt was wringing your gut, you tried to hold your ground. You wanted to make it very apparent that you weren’t happy with your current situation. This time, it would be you who gave him the silent treatment.

Nothing happened; much to your surprise. But, after a brief pause, he stepped toward you, pressing his chest flush against your back. You could feel his erection on the small of your back, and you nearly gasped. But, you didn’t want him to get the satisfaction of a response. Chan's hands wandered down your sides, ghosting over the plane of your tummy, squeezing your skin as he traveled to your hips, tugging you harshly into him. You stumbled, catching yourself in the sides of the shower, “You have a smart mouth.” He growled, his lips ghosting over the shell of your ear. “Sometimes, I wish you would just shut the fuck up.” He grabbed your throat and squeezed, making a strangled yelp escape.

You hold his wrist as he presses you against the wall, grunting impassionedly as he uses his foot to spread your legs apart slightly. You press an open palm to the wall as he lets go of your throat; making you gasp for air as he shifts his attention to your hips. He pulls them out, pushing your waist down so your ass was in the air for him. Using one hand to keep you pinned, he uses his other to snake around to play with your clit. You jolt, heat pouring down your body and filling your most sensitive area as he assaults your aching nub. He chuckled darkly, “Awh, couldn’t get you to shut up earlier and now you can’t even form words?” He cooes rudely in your hair as he slaps your cunt. You cry out as he shifts away, sucking on his first two fingers, “fine by me. As long as you’re screaming, I know I’m doing a good job.”

He shoves his digits into your dripping core, your toes curling as he immediately finds that ooey gooey spot inside your p*ssy. He groans and chuckles as you shake, your orgasm fast approaching now that he’s found your g-spot; not that it took much searching. He knew your body inside and out.

“I’ll show you how it feels to be teased; made jealous. I’ll make you beg before you cum.” He suddenly pulls out, making you whine in displeasure. He waits a few moments for your high to subside before pumping his cock in his hand a few times, “Gonna make you fucking cry before you get to cum.” He hisses as he presses your head against the wall, biting your earlobe as he slammed his hips into hours, knocking the wind out of you in the process.

Chan was relentless; unforgiving in his endeavor to make you cry. And cry you did. You sobbed against the floor of your shower as he pounded into your aching cunt, tears pouring down your cheeks as he gripped your hips so hard that marks were appearing. He spanks your cherry-red ass cheek twice, making you cry louder. “This what you wanted, slut?” He growled, pistoning his hips in and out of you, making sure to hit your g-spot every time. “Wanted to cry for my cock, huh?” He laughed maniacally as he seemed to go even faster as you squeezed him, signaling that you were close. And just as every time before, he pulls out, smacking your ass telling you repeatedly that, ‘whores don’t get to come’.

You could easily say your safe word, “pineapple”, at any given moment and give up; Chan would immediately stop everything to make sure that you were okay. But you didn’t want to give him the satisfaction of knowing that he had broken you.

You mewl on the floor, reaching up to rub your swollen nub pathetically as he repositioned himself in you, taking a deeper approach. This would be the death of you. Chan knew this position was your weakness and had you cumming repeatedly on any given night. This would break you if he denied you anymore.

Chan had cum inside you multiple times, man had the stamina of a stud horse. He loved to watch his cum form an off-white ring around his cock; it was his filthy pleasure that he secretly loved the most about fucking you repeatedly on nights like this.

You shudder when he slowly pushes into you, and he lets out a low moan, hands running up your back to your shoulders, “Mmmm,” he hums, rolling his hips hard against yours. He no longer cared for pace, it was all about how hard he could fuck you into your shower floor now. “Wanna cum, babydoll?” You can’t form words, even if you wanted to. Chan had fucked you stupid.

He knew this, and that’s why he chuckled, moaning with pleasure as he thrust deep and hard into you. He could feel your walls tighten around him and you whine, trying to wiggle your feet free to press him into you so he couldn’t escape. Another thing he secretly desired. But, his calves had your feet pinned down and there was no escaping him now; you barely had enough strength to hold yourself up. Let alone enough to wriggle free.

He moaned as you squeezed him, and you let out a pathetic whine. You balled your fists up near your head, feeling angry that you knew what the outcome was. He was gonna pull out and leave you high and dry again.

You let out an angry, helpless breath as you feel him pull away. But to your surprise, he doesn’t pull completely out. He just pauses, almost contemplating what he should do for a brief moment.

Within seconds, his fucking you relentlessly, pounding into you with a new fervor. You scream out in ecstasy as your long-awaited orgasm washes over your body. Your body trembles, but Chan doesn’t stop. Instead, he wraps his arm around your waist; his expert fingers find your clit and rubbed it. “You’ll stop cumming when I do.”

He hammered his hips in and out of you and at a God-like speed; your head spinning as you orgasm again. You see stars as he slaps your core, Chan doesn’t stop. He only pulls away to pin you down to the floor, hips harshly slapping against yours, the sounds of skin meeting skin echoing around your shower as he fucks you hard and fast. You scream as the most earth-shattering, toe-curling, heart-stopping orgasm hits you. You momentarily forget to breathe and nearly pass out. You begin to babble nonsense as Chan rams his hips into you, filling your cunt one last time before stopping.

You stay connected, panting for a few moments until he pulls out and slumps beside you. You join him, and he gently pulls you into his chest. Neither of you says a word for a long while. The only thing keeping you company was the sound of the running shower.

Chan touches your cheek, “Baby?” He says softly. You hum, looking up at him as he peers down at you. “Are you alright?” You only hum in response, making him chuckle. “Did I break you?” You smile softly at his words and he laughs at your response. He pulls you into his chest, still rumbling with laughter, “Oh baby, I’m sorry.” You wanted to tell him not to be, but that was useless. You kinda liked how he fucked you just now. And hoped he would do it again.

He takes the time to make sure you’re cleaned up and dressed before getting you water; but not before you are tucked into bed. You watch as he enters your room with two water bottles in hand, his bare chest on display as he climbs into your bed and settles beside you. Luckily your bed was big enough for the two of you.

He puts a movie on and adjusts himself before pulling you into his warm chest. “Goodnight.” He hums, pressing a soft kiss to your forehead. “Goodnight, Chan.” Your eyes are already heavy and sleep overtakes you quickly. Not that you needed much help from Chan's warm body to sleep, but your extracurricular activities were enough to exhaust you for the rest of the weekend.

Hope you enjoyed this! LMK if you want to be tagged in future parts of this series so you can know when it’s uploaded!

Tag list: @sp00ky-spr1te @very-gay-stay

©️straykids-97

#skz drabbles #skz smut #stray kids smut #skz hard hours #stray kids hard thoughts #bang chan smut #chan smut #seven deadly sins saga

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parrythisucasual · 7 months

Text

What About Me? Ch. 6

WAHHHH TOOK WAY TOO LONG SORRYSORRYSORRY!!!!

The train cars began clicking forwards, the hydraulics pulling the hunk of metal up the first, the biggest, hill. You felt the familiar surge of anxiety, quickly gripping onto the lapbar. Just at the top of the hill, you glanced at Jax’s face. The typical grin stared back at you.

Then, the cart dropped. Metal roaring and wind rushing past your ears assaulted your senses, the anxiety quickly snapping into exhileration. You squeal in excitement, throwing your hands up. Briefly, you wondered why Jax wasn’t doing the same. On the next hill down, you had a rather sudden urge. Without thinking, you grabbed one of Jax’s hands, the one closest to you, nd lifted it into the air with your own.

You noticed his glance at you out of the corner of your eye, his face unreadable, but not bad. His fingers twitched, clasping your hand tighter than before. You cheered and screamed as the coaster whipped you around, and halfway through the ride Jax joined in the whooping and hollering.

All too soon, the ride was over. You were giggling, wiggling in your seat as the train pulled back into the launch pad. You glanced at Ja, who was still looking at you, “That was awesome! We should go again!”

“Sure thing, puddin’, re you gonna hold my hand the whole time?” He raised a brow, his grin cocky. You realized you’d never let his hand go, “Oh, geez, sorry!” You let your grip go slack, but his fingers remained intertwined with yours. Confused, you wiggle them a bit, but he still doesn’t let go.

“You don’t gotta let go, you know, it’s chill. We’re about to go again anyways,” he nodded to something behind you. You turn your head, noticing one of the wooden mannequin like beings standing where the rollarcoaster operator did at theme parks. You’d seen others manning the game or food stands, but you hadn’t thought to look for one here. How did you not notice it before?

The wooden doll, which looked exactly like a posing doll for drawing, stared(?) at you, then gave a small wave before the coaster began its ascension up the hill once again. You finally tightened your grip on Jax’s hand again, facing him once more, “I would have expected you’d get upset I grabbed you!”

“Nah, I just wasn’t expecting it-” The coaster dropped, and you screamed in delight. This time, Jax was the one who raised your clasped hands. You copied, lifting your free hand. He didn’t raise his, however, and remained gripping the lapbar. You wondered why, but didn’t question it just yet. You were too busy screaming! The ride was going!

The second time was just as fun as the first, maybe even better! Having Jax hoot and holler with you the whole time created an amazing experience, and you were glad you’d invited him over this morning.

Jax shouted something to you, but it was incomprehensible over the roaring of the coaster. “WHAT?” You shout back, and he repeats himself, but again, you can’t hear. You’re surprised he heard you, but maybe he just assumed what you said from your single time opening your mouth.

The train of coaster cars pulled back in to the stattion for a second time, then you smile sheepishly, “Sorry… still didn’t hear you…” Jax stands, helping you to your feet using the hand he still had held tight. “I said do you wanna go grab a snack or hit up the teacups?” He laughed, shaking his head slightly.

“Oh, yeah! Teacups should go first though. I don’t have the strongest stomach in the world,” you agree. Jax snorts at you, tugging you along as he descends the stairs that were labeled, “ENTER.” You would have told him he probably shouldn’t, but there wasn’t exactly a line. Besides, he seemed to enjoy being an agent of mild inconvenience.

He dragged you towards the next ride, “Just don’t puke on me, I’ll make you regret it,” he warned. The threat didn’t bother you. He wasn’t as mean as he liked to pretend to be, you could tell. You didn’t think the others thought that way, though. Maybe Ragatha, but you doubted it.

You pointed to a specific teacup, “That one!” you grinned, “it’s my favorite color.” Jax rolled his eyes, “Leave it to you to pick a cup the baby way.” You stuck your tongue out, “You barely know me, you can’t say that!” you joke.

Still, the two of you slip into the cup. You glance at Jax, “You can let go of my hand now,” you muse, finding it funny he’d still held on. He quickly dropped it, “Right, right. Was seeing how long it took you to say somethin’.” Sure he was. Still, you don’t say anything about it.

This time, you look for the doll managing the ride. Your quickly find it, then give a thumbs up. It remains still for a moment, then slowly lifts a thumbs up. You might have confused it, but the ride starts, so you dismiss it.

Or maybe you can’t, because the next thing Jax says, “Why’d you do that? It’s just and NPC, it’s not alive. It would’ve started the ride anyway.” You shrug, gripping onto the steering wheel and making the cup spin lazily, “I don’t know. I guess I jist thought it deserved to be acknowledged?”

Jax didn’t respond, instead grabbing the wheel like you, meeting the same speed as you. Just making it easier to spin, you guessed. You sat in silence for a few seconds, then remembered how Jax hadn’t let go of the lap bar. You wondered if he was afraid of heights.

A grin slowly spread across your face. It wasn’t height related, but maybe you could mess with him. You gripped the wheel tighter than before and tugged as hard as you could. The teacup jolted, spinning faster and faster as you spun the wheel. Jax hadn’t gotten the memo, not that you told him, and slid backwards, his back smacking against the side of the cup.

“What are you doing-?” He gripped the seat below him to try to hang on, but was tossed onto his side with a loud thud, “SLOW DOWN!!” You laughed maniacally, refusing to slow even a tiny bit, “Nah! Payback time, Bunbun! This is for Gangle!” You whoop.

You kept it spinning until the end of the ride. Giggling, you watched Jax shakily stand up, hurrying off of the ride onto safe, not spinning ground. You follow after him, still grinning. You felt a tiny bit bad, but not enough to regret it, “Hey, sorry- teheheh- Are you okay?” you reach for him, grasping his hand for the second time today.

Jax glances at you, his grin a bit forced, “I’m fine, I’m-” he paused when your fingers interlocked with his once more. He glanced at you, brows raised. You opened your mouth to apologize, but you heard voices up the path. Your head snapped up, and there stood Ragatha, with Gangle close behind, waving to you.

Her eyes locked on your hands, her smile widening. Jax quickly dropped your hand, standing back up to full height. He didn’t look at you, his attention now entirely fixated on Ragatha. Although, you could have sworn he looked anxious. You hoped you didn’t upset him…

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Tag list

@jaxtherabbitblog

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#the amazing digital circus #tadc #tadc x reader #jax #tadc jax #jax x reader #the amazing digital circus jax #tadc jax x reader

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bleachification · 21 days

Text

⸻ CH. SIX; A HAVEN FOR ONE IS A HAVEN FOR NONE

pairing: dazai x f!reader (fantasy au)

warnings: mentions/themes of war and violence

chapter list: this is CHAPTER SIX of a multi-chapter fic series. PLEASE read the previous chapters before this one or you will be very lost!!

link to previous chapters: prologue

word count: 1.6k

+ + + + + + + + + + + +

Dinner is interrupted by the screams of dying men. You are halfway through your second flute of champagne and getting increasingly irritated at Dazai’s tardiness when the world outside explodes in a kaleidoscope of smoke and flames. At first, you are unable to grasp the situation when the attacks strike, but as you slowly turn to the looming floor-to-ceiling windows sprawled across the wall to your left, you swiftly become all-too aware of the current reality. The glass panels act as a clear, unfiltered lens to the horrors unfolding. Each succeeding blast is powerful enough that their tremors breach the palace walls, splitting open the floor tiles. In just two minutes time, you count three in total.

Dazai still has not arrived for dinner.

BOOM!

Four in total.

The city—no—the Kingdom is on fire, and terror spreads across the land. It is so dark, so palpable, you can feel its heavy weight in your veins. All you can do is sit and stare through the safety of the palace, nestled on a hilltop miles above the carnage ravaging its nation’s people.

The servants gasp and shriek, panic blinding them to reason. Warning bells ring in cacophony. The explosions do not stop.

Five.

A gentle but firm hand grips your shoulder. “Your Highness, we must leave. It is dangerous–!” The butler never finishes his sentence. One moment he is urging you to action, the next he is frozen. The elderly man gasps, and it is the last thing he does before dropping to the floor. Dead.

You shoot out of your seat, hands trembling. Blood seeps from a huge gaping wound in his chest. From it, a large hunk of metal juts out. A mere moment ago, the object had flown through the window so fast that if not for its size, you would have mistaken it for a hunting arrow. But an arrow it could never be. The horribly large instrument’s identity was clear to you. The butler had been killed by a stray fragment of shrapnel.

Blood-curdling screams echo across the room. The servants, faced with the corpse, all scramble out in fear and disgust. You are the only one left in the dining hall. Well. You and the dead man, together in the dining hall that no longer resembles its namesake. Glass litters the floor, rained down when the debris broke through. Meals and flutes of wine have found new homes on the ground, the latter mixing with the pungent iron puddle pooling around the butler. It is a disaster. Carnage. Violence in its rawest form.

Six.

You start to feel sick.

The door bursts open, just another background noise in the midst of chaos. In a daze, you reach for a table corner to steady yourself, not bothering to check who had just rushed in. You don’t need to. The footsteps are all too familiar—Dazai has finally arrived.

“[Name]. You’re alright. Thank god.” Dazai’s tone slightly wobbles, but the panic in his eyes subsides when he sees you. “Come with me. There is a safe passage–“

Dazai reaches out to you, a gentle hand resting on your shoulder, but you wrench yourself out of his grasp.

“No.”

He shakes his head. “[Name], I have no time for any stubbornness you may–”

Again, you refute him. “I’m not being stubborn! How dare you accuse me of such a thing in this situation.”

“Then what will you call this?” He gestures to your stillness, unmoving even as Dazai gently tugs on your arm. “Just…orderly defiance? Disobedience? Pure and utter rebellion? Should I go on?!”

“I do not need nor want to enter whatever safe house you have conjured up for emergencies such as this,” you scoff.

“Are you even hearing yourself? Yes, precisely! An emergency. Which means you have to evacuate somewhere safe!”

Safe? A man has just died in front of you while trying to help you. The earth is giving way to explosives; craters forming underneath fresh footprints and innocent flesh. There is nowhere safe.

“Leave me be. Go attend to your people.”

Dazai falters. “Are you joking?” At your serious expression, he steps closer. Incredulity colours the sharp planes of his face. “Did you hit your head?”

“With what motive would I have to joke in these circumstances?”

“Then why are you asking for such a ridiculous thing? We must ensure your safety. I must.”

“My safety? Despite…” You wave your hand at the body on the floor. “This? My safety is not a priority. It should not even be a concern.”

“What on earth are you talking about? You are the throne’s–”

“I am one person! One. Meanwhile, hundreds of people are dying as we stand here and argue. Your people. I may despise you, but I won’t take that hatred out on civilians. I will not hide away in a corner while others are suffering. I refuse to.”

Dazai’s demeanor softens. Just a tad. “What exactly do you expect to do?”

“To investigate. To aid the injured and frightened. To help in any way possible and end this madness.” You run a hand through your hair, the sounds of assault has stopped, but the screams from the aftermath still echo the skies. Every moment stood arguing with Dazai is another moment lost. You itch to run.

“That is beyond your capability and not your responsibility.”

You ignore the slight dig from the first part. “Then what is? Am I not one half of the crown? Partial to this nation’s leadership?”

“You are, but–”

“But what? What could possibly–”

“You are not one of us! You are…”

An outsider.

You take a step back. “I never claimed to be one of you.” It is not something you’d ever desire either—to belong to a traitor's nation.

“[Name]. That’s not what I meant.” Dazai reaches out, but freezes at your retreat. His arm lowers and he sighs defeatedly.

“Is it not? You’re right. I’m not one of you. I am from the Empire—from enemy lands. An invader. Not even a polished crown and fancy title could erase that, could it?”

“That is… besides the point.” You both know it is not. “You cannot go out there.”

Your foot taps against the hardwood floor, impatient and driven by nerves. “And why not?”

“Who do you think is attacking us?”

“I…” you falter. A moment passes. “I don’t know.”

For almost a millennia, the Kingdom has had no enemies other than the Empire, but the nations had eventually come to a peace agreement. That was the entire point of your marriage to Dazai.

“The people here have lived under the cloak of war for decades. Years and years of devastation have turned them against the Empire. In their minds—even if it’s untrue—your nation is the perpetrator. As it always has been to them. Even if we are allies on paper, the victims of the past will not forget such brutalities. If you go out there…”

Shit. He’s right.

You sigh, relenting. “I’ll likely be torn to shreds just for the blood running through my veins.”

He winces. “Unfortunately.”

You slump into a chair behind you, hands rubbing against your weary face in an attempt to weather away the fatigue. “Then if not my father, who is responsible? You must have a guess, at least.”

Dazai’s eyebrows scrunch together like they always do whenever he thinks. “I… yes. Yes, of course. It is most likely a rebellion group acting against the royal lineage. One of the four noble families’ doing. I will assign someone to investigate immediately.”

You swallow, unconvinced. There is no indication that Dazai is lying, but for whatever reason, doubt stirs unsettlingly in your gut. You push it down in favor of gaining more information.

“The head houses of the nobility? They oppose the crown? I thought they were pillars of the monarchy—there to maintain your throne.”

Dazai lets out a sharp bark of laughter, humorless at best. “My father’s throne. Not mine. These days, those vultures will do anything to pick away at my reign until there is nothing left. Then, they’ll swoop in, laying claim to the country and its fortunes.”

You shift uncomfortably, unsure of how to respond or react to his sincerity. So you decide to change the subject instead.

“We’re wasting time. The attacks have stopped, but the people still require… your help.”

Not mine, you think. They would sooner accept my death than my aid.

Dazai opens his mouth, no doubt to protest, but is interrupted by the frantic call of another. A short soldier with sullied armour rushes inside, chest heaving from exertion.

“Sire!” The young man closes the distance with short but swift strides, straw blonde hair matted to his forehead from sweat and grime.

“Kenji. Report.”

“Six devices. Each manually detonated.” The soldier salutes.

The news falls upon you like a sack of stones.

“You’re telling me…?”

Kenji grimaces at the low snarl his liege makes, and perhaps at the fury in your eyes as well. “Yes, sire. The explosives were set off by suicide bombers. They were all in public, high-traffic, civilian areas.”

Oh god. Oh god!

“How many?” Dazai sounds murderous.

Kenji looks down, the soldier seeming much younger in that instance. A child. One that has no business in battlefields and suits of armour. “Four-hundred and thirteen. That we know of.”

“Capture?”

“One. Tried to bite his pill, but we got him in time.”

“Cellar B?”

“Correct, sire.”

Dazai nods slowly. “Send Fukuzawa down to meet me there. Tell him it is High category.”

Without another word or glance to anyone, the king turns and walks out, leaving you to wade in a deep, numb tension that seems to want to engulf you in its misery. Kenji hurriedly scurries after him, and the moment you are alone, your knees hit the floor. Deep breaths turn into strangled heaves, and a familiar despair overwhelms you.

With your head in your hands, for the first time since arriving, you let yourself weep.

—

˚ · . tags: @zjarrmiii @aiizenn @emyyy007 @letsliveagaintoday @lacunanonymoused @bejeweledgirl @nat-the-gayass-down-bad-mf

#x reader #dazai x reader #fantasy au #dazai fanfic #atging #dazai angst #dazai fic #bsd x reader #bsd fic #bsd fanfic #bungou stray dogs fic #bungou stray dogs #dazai osamu #bsd dazai #dazai x you #dazai x y/n

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kraken17 · 15 days

Text

One quote from Enid Sinclair per every chapter of Kooky Spooky in which she has been present.

(Note: She is present in Ch.6 & 7 but in a total wolf out, so she has no dialogue).

"Yeah, yeah... relax. The knife-throwing contest is still on. I already made it clear to Wednesday that she could only use volunteers as living targets. Yoko has offered." (Chapter 1)

"I think she's mine and Wednesday's daughter, but not from around here." (Chapter 2)

"Sigh... as tempting as it is I'd ask you both not to maim her just because of her bad habit of spouting occasional idiocy." (Chapter 3)

"They've captured our Friday. Let's go find her and then you'll teach me what's the most painful way to rip off the head of the person responsible." (Chapter 4)

"Sorry, I just… I don't feel like wasting time with this ceremony right now..." (Chapter 5)

"OMG! Why do I always forget this now when I return to my human form!!??" (Chapter 8)

"Holy shit, I'm a hunk." (Chapter 10)

"Aaaw, I think it's very cute. I'm sure deep down your Bruno appreciated this kind of attention." (Chapter 11)

"Are you very fond of this nightgown?" (Chapter 12)

"And I smell people, and pollution, lots of pollution." (Chapter 13)

"Gosh, you're a year older than us now. This is disconcerting." (Chapter 14)

"Wednesday, don't talk about your parents as if they were rabbits." (Chapter 15)

"I'm sorry... I..." (Chapter 16)

"You threw me against a building and caused me to terrify a family! That's very rude!" (Chapter 17)

"At least you're not a racist nutcase who would use her personal Hyde to gather bits of human remains for resurrection rituals." (Chapter 18)

"Your sister told us a little about you when we met her. Well, she told us that you liked to be thrown with catapults..." (Chapter 19)

"I'm not going to fight you! We don't have the time!" (Chapter 20)

"What the fuck is wrong with you?!" (Chapter 21)

"Uh, I should say something, but just for calling Tyler a dime-store Hyde I'll let you have a pass." (Chapter 22)

"Wednesday and I are keeping our names because our dimension was the one originally visited by the others... Pure convenience but it was all by mutual agreement between all parties." (Chapter 23)

"What happened to my local counterpart?" (Chapter 24)

"God, it's a little trippy to think of myself as dead." (Chapter 25)

"Principal Weems! Or maybe I should say director... uh... because of the... Yeah, I'd better shut up." (Chapter 26)

"Uh... yeah, it's something I usually do, Wednesday. You used to love to complain about it." (Chapter 27)

"For your own sake, you'd better..." (Chapter 28)

"They will have no hesitation in killing any of you." (Chapter 29)

"You're going...to pay...for..." (Chapter 30)

"Oh... erm... apology accepted my... err... my lord?" (Chapter 33)

"But wait a minute, if they're a confederation of packs how come there's a princess?" (Chapter 34)

"I'm sorry. There's nothing wrong with your last name. It's just that... well, in my reality a counterpart of you is one of my best friends." (Chapter 35)

"Ok, the doppelgänger thing I can get, but what's with the homunculus?" (Chapter 36)

"And now... now I get this story that I'm some kind of... multiversal warrior who reincarnates, like a cheap copy of Avatar: The Last Airbender!?" (Chapter 37)

"Ah, ah. I already know the electricity trick." (Chapter 38)

"We're going to breach The Bright One's defenses. And we won't use magic to do it. What we need is science. Mad science." (Chapter 39)

"What do you say about finding a way to inter-dimensionally travel to a magically sealed universe to rescue Wednesday and Friday and deal with an army of supernatural monsters?" (Chapter 40)

"Six months, my love. It has taken me six months to be able to come back to you." (Chapter 41)

"It's just that if you leave me stranded in another universe I have a bad habit of trying to find my way back." (Chapter 42)

"Oops, someone's a wee bit cranky." (Chapter 43)

"It's just that… Look at her! We're not even talking about being just a MILF anymore. I'm going to be totes a GILF, for real." (Chapter 44)

“My name… is… Enid Addams.” (Chapter 46)

"Fuck, Weds, getting stabbed by a saber shouldn't feel so good!" (Chapter 47)

"Who are we? Right now and right here, we are the Addams family." (Chapter 48)

"Well...I mean...the truth is...erm...Ireallylikeyourhairandyourloosehairdoesthingstome." (Chapter 49)

"Six months, Weds. I've been six months away from you. The word insatiable doesn't even come close to describing how I feel.” (Chapter 50)

“You know, if you keep calling them that they're going to end up being born with horns and wings.” (Epilogue)

#enid sinclair #wednesday addams #wenclair #wenclair fic #wenclair fanfic #wednesday netflix #wednesday #the addams family #wenid #quotes #quote #ao3 link #archive of our own #fanfiction #kooky spooky

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hamspenalty · 1 month

Text

max/daniel. juno au. 1.9K words.

Max’s stomach turns threateningly from her place in her perfect cocoon of warmth. She immediately sits up, runs to the bathroom, and throws up all of her pork chops from the night before.

As she brushes her teeth, she stares at herself in the mirror. This supposed ‘stomach bug’ of hers had been around for three weeks at this point, and it’s safe to assume that it’s more than a stomach bug. She should’ve known that it was a mistake to sleep with Daniel.

She sighs, flicks the light off in her bathroom, and pointedly avoids her own stare.

Max drives to the old, run down Walgreens that smells like mold and stale pizza after her philosophy lecture. She digs her thumbnail into the paper cut on her finger as she looks at pregnancy tests, and picks the one with the overly happy woman holding onto her stomach.

She grabs five. Just to be sure.

Her suspicions are confirmed. She’s pregnant. Max stares at the stick that’s in her shaking hand, drops it in her book bag when she can’t stand the sight of it anymore.

She digs her fingers into her eyes to stop the tears, and curses herself for her own stupidity. She should’ve known it was a bad idea — the pull-out method was unreliable — and now she was sitting in front of a musty Walgreens in her beat up car, when she should’ve been doing homework, reading about metaphysics with her brain leaking out of her ears.

Max bites into the shaking fat of her bottom lip, going to the one place that would make her feel better. The pet store.

It was a weird habit she’d picked up in her freshman year, before she met Lando and Charles and made other friends. She’d head to the pet store and stare at the animals, thinking about owning a gerbil or a hamster. She knew, logically, that she couldn’t because a) she was a freshman in a cramped dorm and b) her dad would never let her spend her measly allowance on an animal. Still, it was a happy thought.

As Max stares at the ferrets digging their heads into their soft bedding, she thinks about how everyone might react to the news. If she’s going to keep the baby or get rid of it. The more and more she mulls it over, the more her stomach starts to turn as if to say, ‘too much distress for one day; shutting down’, like her hunk of a laptop would in high school whenever she wrote a paper that was two pages too long.

“Hello, ma’am?” A worker wearing a green apron and a name tag said to her, appearing as if he’d been there for a while. Small tendrils of embarrassment flickered within her gut. “Are you planning to buy one?” He motions his head towards the glass box, where the ferret she was once staring at is sleeping, curled up against the wall. Its nose twitches as it sleeps.

“No,” Max says, shaking her head. Being dragged out of her thoughts makes her smell the Auntie Anne’s cart a few feet away. She should buy a slushy. “Just looking.”

“Alright, well we’re closing soon.” She reads the name on his name tag. Tom. Regular name for a regular looking man. “Okay,” Max says, and hopes her face doesn’t do something weird. She walks away afterwards, fulfills her wish of buying a slushy. The blue raspberry colors her tongue and ails her consistent, 24-hour loop of nerves.

“Max!” Charles exclaims when Max comes inside, shutting the door as quickly as possible to keep the cold out. He’s wearing some bright cashmere sweater with weird geometric shapes on it, with a pair of very distressed jeans. Max pushes down a snicker at the sight.

“Hi, Charles,” She says tiredly, sitting down at the scratched up, mahogany kitchen table. Lando looks up from her laptop, glasses perched low on her nose. “You look like shit, mate,” She says, taking a sip of whatever was in her mug.

“Thanks,” Max says, “How kind.” Lando winces and mumbles a weak apology. “Where were you?” Charles asks, flipping a grilled cheese sandwich in the pan.

“Library,” Max says, the lie rolling off her tongue easily. “Philosophy homework. You know how it is.”

“Yes,” Charles says, looking solemn. “Unfortunately, I do.” Lando starts talking about Oscar’s bland responses to her memes, that she thought were absolutely hilarious, that Oscar thought were a little stupid. Charles listens to all she has to say and adds side comments, and Max lets their constant stream of conversation wash over her.

“Oh, Max,” Lando says, dragging Max out of her brain. “Daniel stopped by here to see you today. Said something about you not returning his calls? He told me to tell you to text him as soon as possible.”

Max sighs through her nose, picks at the healing scab on the bridge of her nose from where she scratched it too hard a few weeks ago. “Okay. Thanks.”

Just as Max is about to get around to actually doing her philosophy homework, her phone buzzes itself half to death on her bedside table, making her exasperation flare up. She was planning to ignore it, thinking it’d be Victoria or something, but it was Daniel.

Max knew that if she didn’t answer, he’d just come over here again the next day. And she might actually be there that time. Both Lando and Charles were bad liars, so there was no way they’d be able to cover for Max effectively.

Her thumb hovers over the green button, a picture of her and Daniel at some random club her sophomore year mocking her. They both look happy in the picture, but Daniel especially. His beaming smile makes her heart ache.

“Hello?” Max says, and Daniel’s sigh of relief is one that could be heard around the world. “‘Hello’? That’s it?” Daniel asks, and Max can almost hear the way his eyebrows must be furrowed. “I was worried about you. It’s been two weeks.”

Max winces. It has, and she somehow hadn’t realized. All that throwing up must’ve fucked with her memory. “Yes, I know. I’m sorry, I’ve been-”

“Busy? Yeah,” Daniel scoffs, and it’s Max’s turn to furrow her eyebrows. She feels that she somehow might’ve put her foot wrong in this situation. “What’s the problem?”

“The problem is Max, that you’ve been ignoring me ever since we slept together,” Daniel says. “Was it that bad? Now you can’t even speak to me, and Lando has to play the middleman for the both of us?”

It was anything but bad. The way Daniel had laid her down, made her feel important while he took her apart, and put her back together afterwards, was unlike anything she’d experienced before. Maybe if it was bad, it would be easier for her to get over this thing in her belly. God, she couldn’t even say or think the word.

“Daniel, it was not bad. I’ve just been sick,” She says. It’s technically not a lie. “Are you okay?” Daniel asks, concerned. “Yes. I’ll get better soon.”

“Okay,” He says, sighing. “Okay. I’m sorry for like, snapping at you. I’m not a dickhead, I promise.” Max just laughs softly, though her chest clenches. “I know.

“So what kind of sickness is this? The kind that spreads from kissing, the one that stuffs your nose so bad you can’t tell your ass from your elbow, or the one that makes you puke your guts out?” Daniel asks, teasing. If only he knew. “Definitely the last one. A little bit of the second. I think I should definitely consider going to what is it, the Mayo Clinic? Get put in a trial.”

Daniel’s laugh makes her chest warm and her cheeks heat up. “That’d be sick.”

“Literally,” Max says, her computer temporarily shutting off from her lack of use. “What are you doing?” She asks, and Daniel hums. “Watching Bob’s Burgers. You?”

“Philosophy homework.”

“Oh shit, should I call back later?”

“No, it’s fine. I can do it tomorrow.”

“Nah. Go be a scholar, Maxy. Make me proud,” He sighs, and Max could hear what was probably the shuffling of his bed sheets against his moving body. Max rolls her eyes, though there’s no heat in it. “If you do, I might just have a little gift for you tomorrow.”

Afterwards, Max has never been more interested in her philosophy homework in her life.

When Max gets back from an entire day at the campus library, she finds Daniel laying on her bed, completely naked, with a bow taped to his dick. Max drops her bag and her phone in shock, laughing.

“Here’s your gift. Me, obviously,” Daniel says, grinning mischievously. In that moment, Max usually wouldn’t be able to resist locking her door and stumbling towards the bed, letting Daniel pull her close and fuck her in her sheets that she hadn’t washed in god knows how long. But she couldn’t let herself.

She felt the words crawl up her throat with determination, her mouth dry as her lips formed the words. “I’m pregnant.”

She watches it land. The way his smile falls and he starts to half blink, slow, as if he was drunk. “What?”

“Daniel,” Max starts, her voice cracking. She did not cry. She would never let herself. Not in front of him, and not now. “I’m pregnant.”

“And it’s mine?”

Max scoffs, anger flushing her skin. “Yes, it’s yours. I wouldn’t be telling you this if it wasn’t.” Daniel sits up and throws his hoodie on, with a baggy pair of basketball shorts he’d left a few weeks before. Max hadn’t bothered to give it back.

“When did you find out?”

“Yesterday morning.”

“Wait,” He pauses. “So when I called you last night, and you said you were sick because you were throwing up, you knew you were pregnant? And you didn’t tell me?”

“You were already mad at me! I didn’t wanna give you this to think about too,” She explains. “I’m sorry.”

Daniel sighs. He pats the spot next to him. “Sit.” Max goes. She almost whines at the feeling of his warm hand finally meeting the flushed skin of her thigh after weeks of not touching him. “Enough of that. What do you want to do?”

“I don’t know yet,” She says, resting her elbows on her knees and covering her face with her palms. “I should probably just have an abortion, yes? Then we can..”

“Move on and act like this never happened? Fuck, Max,” Daniel sighs, and Max furrows her eyebrows. He takes his hand off her thigh. She misses it immediately. “What do you want me to do? Keep it? I can’t do that! Unless we give it up.”

“You can keep it or you can get rid of it. Is that what you want?” Daniel asked, eyebrows raised. “Because we’re doing whatever it is that you want to do. I just don’t want you to act like this never happened between us.”

She sighs, runs a hand over her face. “I don’t know, okay? Give me a few days.” He nods in the silence, before dropping a kiss to her shoulder. “I’ll see you later, okay? Let me know what you decide.”

Max nods, robotic as she watches him go, his shoulders drawn up sky high.

#came out of my small retirement 4 this 🫡#my ficlet #maxiel #juno au

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enm-enthusiast · 9 months

Text

The Exhibitionists Club Ch. 4 - Jack Part 2

Last chapter we saw Jack witness the preliminary wrestling match between his colleagues Daniel and Roderick, in which Daniel surprisingly came out the victor, but now before both of their cocks were put on display in front of the entire crowd. Now, Jack has to face his own boss, Henry in a strip wrestling match, can he emerge victorious and get through his initiation unscathed? Or will he end up a naked loser?...

Jack

I swallowed the growing pit in my throat as I followed Henry up on the stage, and as I did I took the chance to size my boss up. He wasn’t as tall as me, standing at 5’10 compared to my 6’2 but he was bulkier, his thighs and arm muscles far exceeded my own and from the stories I had heard around the office he knew how to use them. His casual clothes couldn’t hide his rather impressive glutes, either, and I couldn’t help but admire his toned and meaty globes attached to his backside. His graying dirty blonde hair was cut short, and had recently shaved his neat, handsome face, his piercing hazel eyes turned to look at me and flash a dazzling, knowing wink and a smile before taking the final steps up on stage.

I followed him up, the bright lights flooding my vision and making me temporarily squint as my eyes adjusted from the darkness of the crowd. Ian greeted us as he did Daniel and Rod, we introduced ourselves to him, afterwards he turned back to the crowd and said “There you have it gents, our next two volunteers! And may I say what hunks, am I right?” He said.

Many from the crowd voiced their agreement and I thought I heard one even say: “Tear his clothes off, blondie!” and I felt my face flush from heat as I knew who they were referring to.

“Let’s wait and see who rips off whose clothes first, shall we? Now, to repeat, there is no biting, kicking, or low blows to sensitive areas, either of you get caught doing this by me or security and we will remove you from the premises, right?” He said, matter of fact. Both me and Henry nodded our heads and Ian waved us down to the ring and we separated to take opposing spots with me on the left and Henry on the right.

“And remember! First one to lose all his clothes will lose the match, and you can either keep or return the loser's underwear, and with that, let’s get this show on the road!” Ian finished and me and Henry both took our socks and shoes off, taking our first careful steps inside the oil-slicked ring.

I was wearing casual navy blue shorts, a red shirt, and a red and black jockstrap underneath it all…I told myself that my opponent would be someone I could handle enough that I wouldn’t lose more than my shirt. True enough, if anyone else BUT Henry had been chosen to wrestle me my victory was guaranteed, no doubt it's why he's my opponent.

Henry himself was wearing black cargo shorts and a black tank top, showing off his muscled arms which threatened to put me in a hold I’d never escape from if he managed it. We began sizing each other up in the precious few seconds we had before Ian started his countdown to begin. My best chance was to evade being grappled by his arms and focus on his legs which would slow him down. I’d go for his tank top first, the straps were an easy target that wouldn’t be an issue for me to simply rip off of him.

“1!” Ian shouted, his countdown had begun.

I spread my legs open and crouched, storing energy in my legs in case I got the opportunity to pounce and wrap my legs around him.

“2!”

Henry moved his arms up in a defensive position, which made me think he was either preparing for a straight up attack or was feinting and trying to catch me off-guard.

“3!”

The match had begun, and true enough he was feinting, because I didn’t move first, instead he lunged at me like lightning after the first few seconds had passed. My eyes widened and I moved to sidestep him but he reached his arm out which managed to grab right onto my left hand and he pulled me along with him.

I pried my hand from his grasp and moved before he could, he was against the edge of the ring and so I wrapped my legs around his waist and hooked my arms underneath his and pulled upwards. Within the first minute I managed to get him firmly pinned.

“Fuck…your quicker than I thought” Henry said, his voice hoarse from the breath being knocked out of him.

“Maybe you're just getting slow, old man,” I said, my smile widening. I noticed my crotch was pressed into his lower back, right against his firm ass. As soon as I realized, I could feel my cock start to respond and I cursed myself silently as the more I restrained Henry the more his ass pressed upwards onto my crotch.

My bulge was growing as I could feel his glutes rubbing up against me, despite the layers of fabric in between. Henry tried to free an arm and I responded by lifting Henry up further which as soon as I did it, I knew it was a mistake.

I landed his backside right in the middle of my crotch, my shaft was even rising in a way that nestled itself between his cheeks and at the contact I couldn’t help but bite my lip and said “Fucckkkk” under my breath.

Henry, damn him, heard me and even from this angle I saw a smile split his face. “What’s the matter, tough guy? Is all this muscle too much for you? Or are you just happy to see me” He said and I could tell he had noticed something poking at his ass and my expression of arousal had only confirmed his suspicions.

I didn’t answer, but even while restrained he could still slightly move and so he took it upon himself to sway his ass from side to side, effectively grinding his ass against my quickly growing cock.

I sucked in a breath as the contact only made my cock grow to full mast inside my shorts and jockstrap. I felt my head swirl with lust as I wanted to completely tear off Henry’s clothes and bend him over and fuck him senseless but I had to focus, I had to keep him pinned so I could rip off his tank top. I managed to clear my head at least for a moment so I had to act fast because as soon as one of his arms was free it would only be a few seconds before he broke away completely.

As Henry continued grinding against me, I counted down internally and as soon as I hit 5 I once again lifted Henry up, bending his back and while he was distracted I let go of his left arm and immediately grabbed ahold of the left strap of his tank top and Henry was beginning to realize what I was doing.

I tightened my grip, released my legs around his waist, and whilst pushing my legs away while still holding onto his left strap…

RIIIIIIPPPPPP

I lunged away but half his tank top came with me, the rest was in shreds around him and was now stripped to his waist, and the crowd cheered as I lifted up the garment in a momentary victory and threw it into the crowd. Henry turned to face me, now bare-chested and as I always suspected was quite hairy but still very well built and stocky. His torso was already beginning to glisten from the oil, because as soon as I had jumped away he had landed on the ground, and it only accentuated his large male pecs which rippled with muscle as he instinctively flexed them as he ripped away the remaining shreds of his shirt.

The movement stirred something in me, his large dominating figure awakened something primal, and I felt an equal urge to both break and bend his ass over for me…and for him to utterly pound me into submission. My cock twitched in response as it continued to throb, still imprisoned within my jockstrap.

“I see you haven’t lost your edge, it’s too bad though…playtime’s over” Henry said, his eyes locked onto mine and the look in them sent a tingle down my spine, and a chilling dread in the pit of my stomach. His expression wasn’t one of rage or amusement like it was before, no, his face was stone-cold and determined, and it both frightened and turned me on at the same time.

He readied himself, arms up in defense and I matched his movements in quick succession. We then circled one another as we slowly traversed the floor of the ring on our knees, each waiting for a sign of weakness, and it wasn’t until someone in the crowd nearby coughed that Henry made his move.

He lunged forward and so did I, and our palms slammed into each other, the force of which had me slide backwards a few feet. This didn’t deter me as I knew my next target was his shorts, and I briefly glanced down at them until my eyes locked right onto his crotch…

He had a full on bulge going on, and judging from the size of the tent he was pitching down there, the old man had nothing to be ashamed of unlike poor Rod.

I had to force myself to look away and locked eyes on Henry’s again, who noticed where my eyes had gone but his expression hadn’t changed, he still looked like he was equally ready to end me as much as strip me naked.

Our arms were locked in a struggle, and I was holding my own for the moment but I could already feel the strain on my arms weakening my resistance against the slow push of his arms against mine. I tried to push back in a vain attempt to knock him off his balance and I did succeed in sliding him back a bit, however Henry just smiled, a cold, wicked smile and said “it’s cute how you think this is my full strength, time to show you how it’s done”.

He breathed in deeply and his arm muscles rippled and he pushed with much more force this time, and my arms, already strained, couldn't keep up and I lost my grip. Henry seized the advantage and lunged forward and I was too slow to react to try and evade him. With one arm he bound mine behind my back and slammed me down on the ground with my arms pinned underneath me. He used his right arm to hold my torso in place while his legs held down my own.

He didn’t waste any time gloating or taunting, no he went straight for my throat with his free left hand and gripped the collar of my shirt tightly in his fist. He leaned down towards my ear and without warning he softly licked my earlobe which, despite myself I whimpered and felt my body tingle as he did so. My face flooded with heat as he said “you have no idea how bad you're gonna get it, this is just the start” and with a growl in his throat he tightened his grip on my shirt…and pulled.

RIPPPPP

He completely tore off my shirt, leaving my furry but stocky and well-built chest exposed. The crowd was loving it, they watched Henry completely turn the tables on me and had me firmly pinned, there wasn’t anything I could do to escape unless he wanted me to. Suddenly, he gave both my nipples a twist which made me suddenly gasp and say “Ahhh…fuckkk” I said.

My cock throbbed inside my shorts and Henry noticed the tent in my pants suddenly lurch upward. His grin grew even wider now, and he twisted my nipples again, and again. I had to bite my lip to keep myself from moaning, instead I put every ounce of energy into looking for an opportunity to escape. However, my hopes were in vain as he twisted my nipples one last time, and harder too, I couldn’t help but let out a soft “Mmmmm”

While I was distracted, Henry suddenly stepped off me and before I could react he flipped me over onto my stomach and quickly put down my flailing legs and held my arms down with his right. Henry didn’t waste any time in giving my ass a quick slip before saying “time to lose the shorts” he said out loud.

Some in the crowd had heard him and they began to chant the words “lose the shorts!” “lose the shorts!” “lose the shorts!” they said, each time more voices joined in. I couldn’t tell if our colleagues had joined in or not but soon enough their voices chanted in near unison for Henry to divest me of another piece of clothing.

After a few moments, Henry bowed to their wishes, because he kept my legs pinned down but used both of his arms and reached for the sides of my shorts. The soft contact of his hands against my bare skin at first made me gasp and my cock twitch slightly as it was pressed against the floor. He slowly started to lower my shorts, and I could feel the cold air against my lower half as he did so and my cheeks flooded with shame as I felt the top of my ass being exposed.

“Wow! We got another jockstrap here!”

“What a pale butt, he needs to tan more”

“Smack his bare ass!”

As he exposed the top half of my bare butt, Henry did just that and I felt his hand smack against me, the sting made my eyes water a bit and strangely my cock throbbed even harder inside the pouch of my jockstrap. After that, however, Henry lifted himself off me and quickly slid my shorts down and off of my legs, throwing them into the crowd which left me in nothing but my jock, and people quickly noticed my bulge as I flipped upwards to face him.

Before Henry could prepare another attack, I recklessly tackled him to the ground, and the crowd lost it as we each rolled over, our bodies becoming ever more slick with sweat and oil as they collided with both the floor and each other. Henry was caught off guard and I used it to my advantage as we wrestled across the ring, and despite my frantic, energetic attempts to reach them his powerful arms constantly blocked any attempt at grabbing for his shorts.

At one point he wrapped his arms around my stomach and lifted me upwards, holding my body against him, and this time, as I did at the start of our match, this time I could feel his bulge’s warmth against my ass and Henry growled in his throat as he thrust his hips upward, sliding his crotch against my exposed ass cheeks.

The red in my face returned as it felt so good to feel the warmth of his bulge thrusting against me and that strange desire to submit to him returned. I briefly imagined myself in his office, this time both of us naked and me bent over his desk, with him pounding away at me like the alpha male he was that was claiming what was his. My desire to strip away his shorts now intermingled with my lust for my own boss, which only made me want to slap myself for acting like an animal when I had a match to win.

I had to break away, but suddenly Henry’s hand reached underneath me, grazing my bare ass cheeks but reaching past to grab my aching cock through the jockstrap’s pouch and I audibly whimpered this time. Henry’s voice whispered in my ear “who knew that the big, tough, new guy Jack was secretly a slut that’s practically begging to take my cock” he said, chuckling softly and I felt my face flood with shame. He knew this was turning me on like hell, and had intuitively guessed at my lust for him. Even before today I caught a few glimpses now and then of his features, checking him out every time he flexed his muscles or bent over it would always catch my eye. But today was the first time I had ever felt anything so intense, especially with my growing desire to let him fuck my brains out, and the fact that he knew was just so embarrassing as I had always cultivated the ideal image of professionalism for myself, and with each time he massaged my bulge it made both my remaining dignity and self-control slip away ever further.

He continued to massage my boner through my jockstrap, and I knew that if I didn’t escape soon I might lose my only remaining piece of clothing or worse…shoot my load in front of everybody here. I couldn’t let that happen so with all my strength I pulled his left arm muscle which made Henry cry out in pain and I seized my chance to break free from his grip.

I turned around and lunged straight for his shorts, and I managed to grab a hold of his sides but the oil made my grip loose, which made it easy for him to quickly side step me. I wasn’t letting him off easy, so I followed and tumbled with him, his arms again kept trying to hold mine down and overpower me, but I adopted a strategy of swatting his hands away whenever he tried, and my legs were just as powerful as his, indeed mine had the edge in terms of energy and training as his leg strength gave out way faster than mine did.

His deeply-tanned torso was shining thanks to the oil, which some people continue to pour more into the ring to keep things from drying out. My own torso, much paler than Henry's, was glistening with sweat and oil, which made our grips and grabs flimsier and our bodies easily slid along anothers.

The crowd was enraptured not only by our determination but also the sexually charged tension between us. Henry had sensed my lust but I was beginning to sense something else from him too, it was one thing to tease and taunt your opponent, however it was another to grab his hard-on and thrust your bulge in between his bare ass cheeks.

My suspicions were confirmed when I made the mistake of trying to use the floor to slide away from his lunge and latched himself onto my shoulders, he quickly climbed over my body and used his own full body weight to hold me down on the ground, pinned beneath him. I felt it again as he did so, however, the same euphoric warmth of his bulge had nestled itself right along my ass crack. Because of this, I had a rough idea of how big he was and if I was right…he had at least 7 inches on him which I knew could utterly destroy me if he ever did pound me into submission like my cock was begging me to do.

Just then, however, I felt him thrust once, twice, three times, until he was outright humping me. I bit my lip once again and felt my face turn a crimson red as Henry utterly humiliated me by asserting his dominance and manhandling me as if I were nothing. That strange, suppressed desire was starting to take hold of me again, and it took all of my self-control to keep myself from begging him to fuck me right there and then.

I knew I was defeated, however, there was no escape this time and all he needed to do was snap the waistband of my jockstrap and it would be over. It made my desire to submit all the stronger but I held onto my defiance even as my cock was leaking precum inside the pouch of my jockstrap.

Henry showed no signs of stopping, in fact his slow thrusts turned deeper, faster, more full of energy as he wrapped his hand around the back of my neck and his voice in my ear said “Saturday, 9:00 o’clock at night, my office, don’t be late” he said before kissing the side of my face and licking my earlobe once again which sent shivers down my spine, before retreating.

In my confusion I almost didn’t register him suddenly wrapping his hands around the sides of my jock, and I sank my head in defeat as I felt the fabric give way with a simple snap and I laid there as Henry stood up and raised his arms in victory. The crowd cheered, but some expressed their desire to see me stand up with him, including, I noticed, our colleagues who were standing right beside the edge of the ring now. I realized there was no point in trying to hide, but thankfully Henry extended a hand to me and helped lift me up onto my feet.

“Jesus! That thing is thick!”

“Wow, Can you believe he’s already leaking?”

“Fuck, I’d ride him till he shot!”

Were all shouts from guys in the crowd I could make out coherently, but most of them drooled at the sight of my fully hard, 5-inch long and thick cock. My pale face was beet red, and I sheepishly smiled and chuckled at the guys from the office who all sported wide, shit-eating grins and suffered from bouts of laughter.

Suddenly, Ian tapped on his mic and said “Well well, looks like our winner is Henry Knight, and sorry Jack Whittle, guess you can’t keep your underwear, however, before you leave we keep spare clothes for those who lose them, but feel free to stay as bare as you want,” he said and gave me a wink that only made me turn my head away in embarrassment.

“Alright folks, let’s get at least two more rounds here, come on, volunteers” Ian said as me and Henry stepped out of the ring, and the guys greeted us with, as I expected, laughter and teasing. I used my hands to cover myself until my boner went down though none of the guys let me off the hook for it.

“Alright fellas, a bet’s a bet, time to pay up” Henry said, and held out his hand, waiting.

The guys all lost their grins immediately and started pulling out their wallets. “Um, what’s going on?” I asked, and Henry looked at me, still bare-chested, and smiled and said “Oh right, well the guys here bet me you wouldn’t even be able to get a single piece of clothing off, but I had faith you’d put up a fight, and trust me…you did” he said as he gladly accepted cash from each of our colleagues, all except for Daniel who stood off to the side, seems he hadn't taken the bet.

I almost couldn’t believe my ears, my mouth hung open, and I was about to lose my shit but suddenly I remembered the second part of my initiation bet…

“So….I lost, and I said I’d do one favor for you guys if I did, so…what is it?” I said.

Henry glanced at the guys, whose knowing smiles returned but they said nothing. Henry spoke up and said “come into work tomorrow and find out” he said, winking and that’s all he would say about it for the rest of the night. We decided to stay and watch the other two matches, one was a Latino man that looked like he was a professional marathon runner, the other was a young blonde that didn’t stand a chance and got stripped fully naked within 5 minutes. The second match was a lot closer, it was between that one hottie I saw before, Sebastian, and some other student I had seen on campus, some red-haired jock that talked a lot of shit. Sebastian managed to put him in his place, stripping his arrogant opponent naked but not before he lost his own shirt and pants. Ian called it a night after that, I made sure to grab a change of clothes from security, which were unfortunately too small but…it was better than walking out naked.

"See you at work tomorrow, sexy" Henry whispered in my ear as he walked by and towards the main doors. I couldn't help but shiver in pleasure as he did so, and despite myself...I couldn't wait for Saturday night, and judging by the growing bulge in my new pants...my cock agreed.

Next day at work

I arrived at my usual time, and everything seemed normal at first until I had put my change of clothes inside my locker and walked out into the main office to see all the guys standing there, including Henry, waiting for me.

“Uh…what’s up guys?” I asked, nervously.

Henry stepped up and said “Well, you wanted to know what your forfeit was for losing the match, and we decided that if you lost…you have to stay naked at the office for a whole week” he said, and some of the guys snickered.

My eyes widened and I could feel my cheeks blooming with heat as I panicked and said “What?! I’d never have agreed to-t-to this if I’d known this was my forfeit!” I said, my face now crimson red.

“That’s the point, you wouldn’t have, so we had to keep it vague, but you knew that we could have demanded anything when you agreed to the terms, it’s not our fault you failed to consider this possibility, so step up and take your punishment. Strip,” Henry said, that cold and serious look on his face again.

I hesitated, I began to think of what Henry had said last night right before he stripped my jockstrap away, and despite how mad and humiliated I felt…I already knew I was going to do exactly what he told me, and my cock began to rise at the thought of what he planned for me. I knew that there was no point in arguing, if I didn’t, they would strip me themselves, so…I began to remove my clothes.

The guys watched me like vultures as I stripped, first came my socks and shoes, which I left in front of me, then came my shirt which I slowly unbuttoned and I let fall onto the floor, next came my pants which quickly joined my shirt. That left me in nothing but my boxer briefs, and the guys all nodded their approval, including Henry, who watched me ravenously as I slowly pulled off my last piece of clothing and left them in a pile with my other clothes, leaving me totally naked.

Daniel, with a nod from Henry came over and quickly gathered up my clothes and walked off, which left me no choice but to stay naked. I used my hands to cover up and I hung my head in shame as I asked “Do I have to leave the office naked every night for the rest of the week?”

“No, you can get dressed in your change of clothes once you leave work every night, but not before then, oh and don’t worry I’ve changed the schedule, you're on office duty for the next week, so you better get busy naked boy” Henry said, winking at me before walking off.

The guys then walked over and started chatting with me, a bunch of them said they thought I had balls of steel to go up against the boss like that, while others asked if they could have another “look” but I told them to fuck off which thankfully they did. Through all of it, my hands covered what was left of my modesty and dignity. I thought I had found a way to make my initiation as least humiliating as possible…instead I managed to make it possibly the most any guy has ever had to endure.

As I walked past the guys who began to resume their work duties, I felt a stray hand slap my bare ass cheek as I walked by. I glared at them but they only grinned at me in return. They all talked among themselves and as I made my way to the reception desk, where the main desk worker was posted during the day, I thought again of what Henry said but also of how I had to stay naked for the entire week.

If they caught me trying to wear clothes at all they’d just strip me naked again, or worse punish me for disobeying…no, they were right, it was my idea and I agreed to their terms, better I just suck it up and deal with it…

What the guys didn’t know, or see, except maybe Henry, was that as I stripped away my underwear and stood naked in front of them, my cock rose to full mast and still hadn’t gone down. Thankfully I was able to tuck it between my legs and used my hands to cover it, though it made walking awkward. Still, the combination of confusion, embarrassment, and arousal only made things so unclear. One thing remained constant, however, and that was that no matter what, I was going to be in Henry’s office, at 9 o'clock ...on the dot.

End of Chapter.

Author’s Note:

Thank you guys for reading another chapter of this series! I know it’s been a while since my last post but don’t worry I haven’t forgotten you, I’m unsure which character to focus on next, please feel free to suggest any of the ones I’ve introduced so far or someone you’ve been wanting to see from the main cast list! Until next time, I’m always here and I hope you enjoyed ;)

These are my two main choices for the next character chapter, but again feel free to suggest otherwise!

Time for a blast from the past, either:

1.) Professor Ethan from The Professor's Anatomy.

2.) Thomas from Thomas' Misadventures

#enm #enm stripped humiliation #cmnm #gay #stripped #embarassing #enm story

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