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yui-onnero · 2 months ago

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---------------New Connections---------------- ______________________________________________________________________

Hey gang! Part two of "New Connections".

You know, I was actually planning on writing chapter one this weekend since I have essays to turn in.

...

But I started early, and here we are! Part two already written. I'm going to try and get this out by Sunday, but I might not be able to. Still, I'll try my best to deliver. Part two will be mostly introducing who SnD is and the confusion of the reader but Stro's response. But I won't spoil anything more.

Again, if their dialogue is colored or shrunken, they are important/reoccurring characters. With exception for you.

Dialogue Guide: -Tammy -Stro -Silent -Deadly -Dara -Rose -?

Setting: Dandy's Block Universe. As implied, it takes place right after Shanks got arrested because of SnD.

Warnings\~/Promises for the Series: Yandere/Snd, Trans Man yet AFAB reader (specific request), he/they pronouns used, obsessive behavior, narcissism, canon interaction between SnD and Shanks as backstory, masturbation, smut, murder/death, rotting bodies, panic attacks, assault(obvi, if there's murder and death), a lot of cussing(we're in a gang like area, aka the hood), Stro does not wanna be awake... ever, drug mention/use, slightly gore-y descriptions, torture, etc.

Word Count: 10.1K

Enjoy~

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{CHAPTER TWO: Settling In}

The apartment was a mess.

Of course, being in the hood, the place would most likely have no janitors nor would clean people live there, but you didn't expect actual fucking rotting corpses to litter the floor.

It was disgusting. In all actuality, this apartment looked like the back of a horror movie-dumpster. There were maggots, flies and other bugs everywhere, blood smeared on the wall, organs splattered against various surfaces throughout the house, trash and rotted food fucking everywhere, and last but NOT least, the chandelier on the ceiling was shattered. Fucking shattered. You were gonna have to invest in lamps.

You had to hold your breath as you walked in, barely able to not vomit at the stench. But as soon as you stepped in, you couldn't handle it. You ran downstairs and straight to Dara, the receptionist. "Hey. Dara, right? I have shit memory. Um, do you have any cleaning supplies? My apartment looks like a goddamn murder site if someone vomited the mass of Neptune," you spat.

Dara gazed at you with surprise and amusement, then annoyance. She looked over her shoulder, yelling, "ROOOOOOSE! GET OUT HERE!" A few slow moments later, a girl in a simple tangtop and genes emerged, long curly black hair flowing down her back in a high ponytail.

"Yeah?" The girl, apparently named Rose, asked.

"Why is room 102 not cleaned? I told you to get it done a week ago." Dara demanded, hand on her hip as she looked down at the short bratty teen.

Rose simply looked at her nails, not caring. "Oh yeah, I didn't want to."

"Bitch what do you think you're here for? I'm cutting ya pay." Dara snapped, aggravated.

Rose whined. "Nooo! Then how will I get my next hair-do?"

"You won't. Now get your ass back to work and I might consider giving it back."

"Ugh, fiiiiiine..." Rose dragged her feet as she approached the janitors cleaning cart, wheeling it over to the elevator and carting up.

"It works..?" you ask Dara softly.

"No," she replies. A few moments later, an annoyed Rose exits the elevator and slowly carries the cart up the stairs, mumbling curses as she goes.

As Rose disappeared behind the stairwell, Dara turned around and started fishing through room descriptions to find one which was open. "I'm so sorry about her, she can be quite... irresponsible. I'll get you a new room." She promised, fetching a room key. "Here, room 115. Please, lemme know if you have any complaints. You're, like, the one customer I can tolerate." She chuckle, amused by the fact that an actually good person was in this hotel.

"Alright, well thank you!" You exclaim, hurrying off to the stairs.

Dara smiles calmly as she looks back at her computer. Her smile instantly drops. "Did I just... shit!" she reaches a hand to where you were retreating. "Wait, Tammy-!" You had already disappeared down the hall, and Dara was unable to warn you that you were across the hall from Silent n Deadly.

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Luckily, this room was much cleaner. It wasn't pristine, but it was better than the trash heap you were just in and already had furniture. Crappy furniture, but furniture.

In the living room there was an old red sofa with a footrest in the middle of the room, a TV opposite to the couch, a tall black lamp that emitted an orange light when you pulled the chain in the corner, dark tan walls and same color carpeted floors. Wooden shelves adorned the walls surrounding the couch except for the one which had the TV, two hallways separating it from the other walls and into the rest of the apartment. Directly behind the sofa, there was a small table that had a panel of wood to make it have a top and bottom shelf as well as the top surface. It looked... actually comfy.

You walked around cautiously, still scared of what the rest of the apartment's state would be after that jump scare with the previous one. You slowly entered the kitchen, surprised that it was only dirty. There were your needed appliances in there: the stove, dishwasher, and fridge with a water/ice dispenser. The floors were tiled marble and table tops polished oak wood. The hallways cut off at one end, but continued to reveal two doors: the bedroom and the storage closet at the end of the hall.

The bedroom had one queen sized bed in the middle against the far wall, no windows since no one wanted windows in the hood. You never knew how far some fuckers would go. Beside the bed was one nightstand, another lamp identical to the one in the living room in the corner, and a simple closet in the wall. There was also a wooden dresser with five drawers.

"Not bad... better than I could do," you mused, excited at the fact you now practically had a functional apartment. In your pent up excitement, you flopped onto the bed, giggling. You mulled over how your life changed so much in just a few hours and the day wasn't even done yet. You got a wad of cash, a job, and a home. A chaotic, crappy home, but a home; one with furniture, no less. That was better than almost nothing. This along with the fact that you now had a good source of income from Stro made you feel pretty good.

Speaking of, you should check in with Stro. Get more details on the job and see if he got any clients you need to meet yet.

After getting more clothes. That would be important.

You hopped up, renewed energy coursing through you as you headed to go shopping. As you walked out of your apartment, you saw ribbon disappear behind the door across from yours as it closed. "Weird..." you thought. Not giving it a second thought, you closed the door behind you, locked it, and turned to leave.

Lost in your thoughts of what to do, you didn't see those familiar soulless eyes exit the door again and bore into you back with an intensity that might have terrified you if you'd noticed.

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So many clothes!

Turns out, the hood wasn't too far away from a busy business street. Food stalls, restaurants, malls, stores of all kinds littered the area. You went crazy, looking at all the fashionable stuff, then buying outfits that wouldn't make you stand out: loose t-shirts, baggy pants, collared jackets, and one cheap suit in case you ever had to look presentable. You would buy more stylish outfits but you didn't exactly have a safe job to wear whatever you wanted, now did you? Besides, your money was practically borrowed from Stro.

You didn't know why he decided to toss you a wad of cash, but he did, so you had to spend it wisely. Buy stuff to use at the new job he gave you, maybe a bullet proof vest if you could find one.

You look at the window outside of the clothing shop you were currently in. You saw a bakery across from you.

Fuck wisely, there's pastries.

Hurriedly checking out with the clothes you decided fit best with your occupation, you went over to the bakery, picking up some sour tarts to eat on the way back to your apartment. The brown paper bag was filled with a lemon cake, a small package of sour patch kids, and a small strawberry crepe cake. You knew you should buy things like groceries and utensils, pots, pans, more bedding, and lamps, but you had to get snacks first. Then you could buy the essentials.

Slightly annoyed that you'd have to wait to eat your freshly bought pastries and candy, you finally shop for necessities. You get hygiene products like soap and toilet paper for the bathroom. Then cooking pots, pans, silverware, measuring spoons, measuring cups, plates, bowls, cups, etc. for the kitchen. You got pillows for your bed and the couch, cleaning supplies, an extra few blankets, and paper/pens/pencils.

The bags dug into your arms as you tried to take a shorter route to the hotel, deciding to map out the different paths later. You finally got to the lobby, red marks showing from the bags' vivid imprints on you. Dara just glanced at you, looking back at her computer as she saw you jog up the staircase.

By the time you reached your apartment, you dropped the bags of essentials on the floor, closing your door and flopping onto the old couch. Finally, finally, you could relax. You hadn't gotten any groceries, so there was nothing to put away immediately. You could enjoy yourself a bit before continuing.

As you opened the brown paper bag and rushed to take a bite of the lemon tart, you thought about what to do tomorrow. Tomorrow, you could probably go shopping for books and then visit Spro; ask him about that guy you saw a few hours ago. Then, a few things could occur: You could get groceries, start your new job, or catch up on sleep. But that would be decided tomorrow; day of.

For now, you finished the tart and ate about half of the strawberry crepe cake, saving the rest. You would eat more, but you should probably save it for breakfast. Now it was time to put away the house supplies and then go to bed.

You groaned at the realization that you forgot to buy bins to put some of the stuff in. So for now, you folded the blankets and put them on the second lowest shelf in the storage closet, a shelf above that was the papers, pens, and pencils. The shelf above that was left empty, and the one above that held cleaning supplies. The shelf above that, the top shelf, held the large and newly opened packages of toilet paper and paper towels as you carried a roll of toilet paper to you bathroom.

You set up the toiletries and all hygiene products, getting your soap, toothbrush, toothpaste, deodorant, perfume, etc. in the bathroom. You set up a shower curtain, and then put the shampoo, soap bar, and conditioner in the little pocket on the side.

Next was the kitchen. You stacked pots from biggest to smallest in one cupboard, then pans similarly in the one next to it. On the top pantries, you put the bowls, plates, and cups up, saving one cupboard for spices. You filled the drawers with measuring cups, spoons, forks, butter knives, spoons, and large cooking utensils.

With that done, it was time to flop on your bed. You didn't even care to change the blanket, too tired to remember the fact that the janitor Rose was incompetent. So, you blacked out, spent from the day's unexpected events and desperate to catch up on sleep.

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Bonus Scene:

Silent took control of their body most of the time, so it wasn't a surprise when he felt the urge to see what you were doing upon glancing at you in the hallway. Both Silent and Deadly's eyes bore into your back, curious about why you'd left your room. You'd only arrived 30 minutes ago, after all.

Knowing the consequences of Slient taking an interest in someone, Deadly urged him inside. Silent obliged, but not after one lasting glance at your retreating form.

He didn't even know your name yet and he was still so intrigued by your demeanor. It pissed him off, having his thoughts plagued by someone he didn't want to kill. It made him feel different; vulnerable, and that was unacceptable.

"Deadly, how the fuck should we deal with that boy? We don't even know him and my mind is falling apart," Silent growled, heavily aggravated by his body's reaction to the newcomer.

"Silent, I don't really think there's much we can do. I overheard their conversation with the receptionist, Dara, and..." Deadly sputtered, trying to stay calm and not annoy his twin any further.

"What is it?" Silent's eye narrow, ribbon neck untwisting as he moved his head towards Deadly's.

"Well, they are under the protection of Stro," He finishes.

Silent bangs his fist into the wall, murmuring curses as he falls onto his worn-out couch. "Damn it... and we can't ruin our connection with him... Believe it or not, I like the guy. Shit..."

"I know you'll hate the suggestion but... we could try to ignore him?" Deadly starts, voice level and calm.

"That's really all we can do..." Silent murmurs, eyes staring intensely into space as he fails to rid his thoughts of that damn newcomer.

Why did obsession have to be so all-consuming?

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Finally out on Easter Sunday!

This Chapter was kind of like cannon filler, but the Bonus Scene will connect it to Chapter Three, Four, and so on if I make more than that.

Hope you enjoyed if you read it!

Chapter Three: https://www.tumblr.com

#dandy's block snd #dandy's world au #dw astro #dw rnd #dw razzle and dazzle #dandys world razzle and dazzle #silent n deadly #snd #rnd #stro #dandy's block #dandy's block stro #dandy's block oc #fanfic #fanfiction #dandy's block fanfiction #dandy's block fanfic

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jiminthestreets-bonesinthesheets · 6 months ago

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Love Beyond the Black - CH 6

Fandom: Ateez Rating: Mature Pairing: Jung Wooyoung/Choi San, Mingi/Yunho, with a little bit of Kim Hongjoong/Park Seonghwa sprinkled in AO3 Masterlist

*** MY WORK IS NOT TO BE POSTED ON ANY OTHER SITE WITHOUT MY EXPRESS WRITTEN PERMISSION. THOUGH REBLOGS AND COMMENTS ARE SUPER LOVED AND APPRECIATED! THANKS FAM!***

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Chapter six

Wooyoung hadn't woken since they left Nero’s ports. At the very most he’d opened his eyes a few times for the briefest of moments, clutched tighter to San’s shirt that he’d yet to let go of, and the second he confirmed San was still in the bed beside him he closed his eyes again.

The sun was rising over the ocean while San remained perched on his elbow beside Wooyoung. The pink and orange ombre illuminated the sleeping man's face, bathing his skin in the beautiful glow of the morning sun. He looked peaceful, moreso then he had since the attack, and San was greatful he was resting. He was surely exhausted from it all.

A knock had San’s hand still where it’d been running through Wooyoung's hair, and he briefly considered ignoring it. But with a sigh he looked down at Wooyoung, watched his shoulders heave with his sleep heavy breaths, then leaned down to press a gentle kiss on his forehead before cautiously wriggling free from his hold.

“Mr. Jung.” San stood in the now open door facing Wooyoung's father. He knew he would come sooner or later to check on his son, considering he’d been near catatonic after they managed to escape. “Wooyoung’s still asleep.”

“How’s he doing? Has he woken up at all, said anything?”

“Not really.” San shook his head. “He’s only opened his eyes briefly before going back to sleep. I thought it was best to just let him rest as long as he wanted to.”

Wooyoung’s father nodded. “Thank you for taking care of him, San, but I also came here to ask you a favour.” San’s head tilted in question, and he waited for more explanation. “I wonder if you would be able to give me a hand in the lower decks? During that storm we lost a lot of men, and the lower decks are a mess from the ship being so brutally tossed in the waves. I could use an extra hand moving some of the heavier barrels and boxes.”

San quickly turned and flicked his eyes to Wooyoung as he rolled and whined in his sleep. “I have to make sure he'll be okay if I leave. I know I won’t be going far, but I don't want to leave him if he's not ready.”

“I understand,” Wooyoung's father answered, and took a step back from the door, “I'll give you two a moment.”

San nodded his thanks and turned. At the last second he decided to kick out a foot behind him and closed the door, then moved to crawl on the bed and hover over Wooyoung.

He ran a hand through his hair then rested it on his cheek. “Wooyoung,” he called gently, and he shifted under his touch, “I need you to wake up for a minute, your father’s here.”

His eyes finally opened, slowly, as if it pained him to do so. “Is everything okay?”

“Everything’s fine.” He squashed the panic he could see rising in his eyes before it could fester. “Your father needs some help in the lower decks moving some things that were loosed by the storm. Will you be alright here for a while if I go and help out? It's the least I can do after everything your father’s done for me.”

Wooyoung’s eyes were wide open now. His head was shaking fervently and he pushed himself up to sit, instantly reaching his hands out to grasp San’s shirt in an iron grip again.

San put a hand over his and smiled at Wooyoung, trying to comfort him. “Wooyoung, I won't be far, and I promise the second I'm done I’ll come right back to you.” Wooyoung still didn't answer, he only continued to stare at San with that look of pure terror on his face. It broke his heart, but he had to do this. “My angel, let me do this for your father, as a thank you for everything, and then I’ll be all yours again.”

Wooyoung sighed before loosening his grip on San’s shirt and took his hand instead. “You promise you'll come right back?”

San smiled. “I promise. And maybe when I come back, you can read to me. We still haven't finished the book yet and I’m dying to know how it ends.”

That made Wooyoung chuckle. “I told you how it ends, you already know.”

“That may be so, but I want to hear the entire book read to me in your beautiful voice.” Wooyoung shied away, tilting his head down and away from San, but he brought it back with two fingers under his chin. “If you need me, you send for me right away and I will run back to you.”

Wooyoung nodded, pressed his forehead to San’s and closed his eyes. “Just… don't be long.”

“I won't, my angel, every second away from you pains me just as much as I know it pains you. And here…” He lifted Wooyoung’s chin a little higher, leaned in to press his lips against his in a firm and grounding kiss. “Something to hold you until I get back.”

Wooyoung’s lips tingled with what the kiss left behind, the promise of more, the anticipation of what was to come. His hand lingered in San’s and held it until he was too far to reach, and he watched him cross the room to the door and leave. The second he was gone he wanted him back. The room felt too big, the bed too empty without him pressed against his side. He was suddenly hyper aware of everything around him, every sound, every shadow, but San wanted this. He wanted to help Wooyoung's father to repay him, so he had to buck up and bear it until he came back. So he pulled his knees up to his chest, buried his face in them and covered his ears. He wouldn't be long, he promised he wouldn’t, he could last.

~~~~~~~~~~~

Wooyoung couldn't last. He found no sleep in the time San had been gone, which wasn't long, but with each passing second he could feel the creeping tendrils of anxiety wrapping around him and squeezing tighter and tighter. Every rock of the ship upon the waves, even though it was nothing compared to the storm that was the root of his fears, had him on edge and clenching his teeth.

Eventually he couldn't take it anymore and jumped from the bed. He ran to the door and yanked it open, so hard it almost slipped from his grip, and stuck his head out the door. Wooyoung searched the halls for one of the crew, San had told him if he couldn't handle being on his own then all he had to do was send for him and he would come right back. But there was no one in the halls, which was just Wooyoung's luck. They'd lost so many men during that storm, the crew was surely feeling the loss as his father would need all hands on deck, which was why he’d asked for San’s help. But Wooyoung needed him back, he'd been gone long enough.

With no other option he forced himself out of the room and braved wandering the ship, as much as the very idea nearly had his knees giving out. San had said his father needed him to help in the lower decks, which thankfully wasn't far. It was a simple walk down the hall to the stairs, down two flights, then he would only need to find which room San was working in. It all sounded easy in his head, but the second his feet touched the floor of the hallway, everything started to tunnel in his vision and the hallway suddenly seemed as endless and far away as the horizon.

He stayed frozen, pressed up against the wall beside his chamber door while the ship rocked side to side. His body shook but the urge to get to San, to be held by his strong arms, was enough to will his feet forward and he was running toward the stairs. He managed to make it down the two flights and to the lower deck where San was, and had to pause when the ship took an extra hard roll to the side. An awful squeak escaped him as he fell to the floor and cowered in on himself, and it only made him yearn for San more, especially as his eyes began to well with uncontrollable tears. All he had to do was figure out which room San was in and he would take care of him, just as he promised, he would protect him from whatever came their way.

He forced himself up again and stumbled on weak legs while he searched the rooms in the lower deck. It took five rooms before he heard the tell-tale signs of barrels and crates being shifted against the wooden planks of the deck, and he knew he’d finally found San. And when he looked in, his hopes were confirmed. Without a second thought he jolted into the room.

~~~~~~~~~~~

The lower deck was an absolute disaster. San wanted to do as much as he could to help Wooyoung’s father, but the mess was definitely going to take longer to clean up then he’d hoped. He’d managed to get through one of the rooms already and was on his second, but there were still at least six left, maybe even more, and he’d already left Wooyoung alone for longer than he wanted to.

Wooyoung had already been hesitant about letting him leave in the first palace, and he was starting to worry about the state he would be in when he returned. The ship had been a bit ricky since he left. There wasn't a storm to worry about, but they were travelling across a rougher section of seas that had the ship moving quite a bit. He didn't want Wooyoung huddled in the room alone, scared and waiting for him to come back.

He took a quick look around and decided he’d done enough for one day. If Wooyoung's father wanted him to, he could come back the next day and do more, but his thoughts were stuck on Wooyoung and he couldn't be away from him any longer. As Wooyoung had become quite dependent on him, apparently so had he become dependent on Wooyoung.

San wiped the back of his hand across his sweat drenched forehead and searched for the shirt he'd discarded somewhere along the way. He still had a sleeveless shirt on, but it’d been far too squelching in the lower decks to keep his long sleeve overtop. He was debating leaving it behind and making a run for Wooyoung's room, hoping he would let San in the bed to cuddle despite his sweat covered body, when a sound behind him had his body on edge.

Before he could do anything, arms were wrapped tightly around his waist and clutching at him. He didn't need words to know who’d pressed themselves against his back, and he turned in their arms to face them, more worried now then he was before.

“Wooyoung.” He looked down only to find the top of Wooyoung's head tucked under his chin. “Wooyoung, are you alright? Why are you down here?”

“I…” Wooyoung pulled back to look at him, but the tears welling in his eyes and the lump sitting heavy in his throat was too much for him to handle.

“Oh, angel,” San soothed and pulled him against his chest, “I’m sorry I was gone for so long, I should have come back sooner. Why didn’t you send one of your fathers men to get me?”

“Couldn’t find anyone,” he whimpered into the crook of his neck where he’d buried his face. Then he let loose a shuddered sigh and sunk further into San’s hold. “I missed you, and I didn’t want to be alone. I don’t want to be on this ship anymore, I hate it.”

“I know,” he breathed into Wooyoung's hair, “it won’t be long until we’re back in your home town and on land again. But until then what can I do to help you?”

“Just-” The ship rocked to the side, and Wooyoung cried out as he dug his fingers into San’s back, nearly ripping his shirt. “Hold me, just hold me.”

San did, and soothed him through each toss of the ship with whispered words. He held him until the rolling settled and they finally passed out of the rocky waters, but Wooyoung was still shaking against him.

“Do you want to go back to your room, angel?” Wooyoung lifted his head and finally looked at San. He took that as a yes and nodded. “Come on then, let’s get you back to bed.”

San started to move him but Wooyoung's feet remained firmly planted to the floor. He gave him a concerned look, but Wooyoung only continued to stare at him with an unreadable expression.

Now that the ship had stopped jerking so much, and San had done wonders in calming Wooyoung, he finally took a good look at San. He hadn’t noticed that he’d been wrapped in San’s bare arms, muscles on display for Wooyoung and glistening with sweat. His hair was dishevelled and standing on end in places, and Wooyoung suddenly found himself dying to know what it would feel like to lose his fingers in it. What it would feel like to tug at it while San ravished him. And before he knew what was happening Wooyoung was moving in to find out.

His lips pressed against San’s in a gentle kiss, much like the first one they’d shared before they were interrupted in Nero. But this time Wooyoung wanted more, he wanted everything from San. He pressed further into him, and when San ran his tongue along his lips he opened them to let him in. The two of them hungrily attacked each other's mouths, licking and gliding their tongues together, sucking and nipping at lips.

San’s hands wrapped tighter around Wooyoung's waist and pulled him as close as he could be, and he growled when he felt Wooyoung's erection rub against his own. But before Wooyoung could successfully wrap a leg around him, he pushed back just enough to be able to look him in the eye.

“Wait,” he panted, keeping Wooyoung at bay despite his best efforts to chase him, “Wooyoung, are you sure? I don’t want you to regret anything.”

“I’m more than sure,” he answered, and placed both hands on his face, “I’ve wanted this even before the night we kissed in Nero, and I would never regret giving myself to you.”

“You’re sure?” He asked again, but this time allowed Wooyoung to pull a bit closer to him.

“I’m yours, Sannie,” he breathed against his lips, “take me.”

And San devoured him, kissed him so fiercely that Wooyoung believed at that moment they were one person. His hands roamed the exposed skin of San’s neck, dipped down beneath the collar of his shirt to grasp at the skin of his back. His need for San had been building for so long, and the tension was finally being released.

San’s hands pulled at Wooyoung's waist and slotted him perfectly against him. He swallowed the wanton moan Wooyoung released when he ground his cock against him, then moved his lips to kiss at his neck, then further to suck a deep red mark below his collar bone. He tasted so good, as addicting as he’d imagined. San also wanted this so desperately, he knew no one else but his angel would do since the day he’d saved him on that beach. They were meant to find each other, made for each other, it was clear in the way they perfectly fit against each other's bodies. But it wasn’t enough, they both needed more.

San moved his lips back to Wooyoung’s, and slowly walked them over to the door. He reached behind Wooyoung and locked it, not once breaking their kiss, then reached down and lifted him.

He wrapped his legs tight around San’s waist, grinding his hips against him as San turned and walked away from the door. The pleasure was almost too much, just about sending him over the edge, but he didn’t want it to be over so soon, before he’d even felt San completely.

“San,” he breathed, tilting his head away from San to try and slow him, but San only moved back to his neck. “San,” he tried again, “I want more, this isn’t enough, I don’t want it to end like this.”

“Tell me what you want, angel,” he said as he licked up his neck to his lips, then kissed him deeply once more, “anything, it's yours.”

“Love me,” he answered. They were pressed tightly against each other, chests heaving in sync while their breaths mixed between their touching lips. “I want to feel you inside me, I want us to be completely one.”

“And we shall be, angel.”

San took one more step back and sat Wooyoung on top of a barrel, immediately latching his lips with Wooyoung’s again. His hands roamed his back and the curve of his ass pressed against the barrel, and his tongue mapped every inch of his mouth, his neck, his shoulders. He pulled back just enough to pull the shirt over Wooyoung's head and tossed it off to the side. His own shirt soon followed, and the second it was off his skin was on fire as Wooyoung’s hands explored untouched skin.

His head tossed back and a moan escaped him as Wooyoung leaned forward and his tongue began following his hands. He sucked San’s right nipple first while his hand gripped and rubbed at the left, and Wooyoung left a bright red mark just below it before he moved to the other to do the same. By the time he'd left the second mark San was a wreck and on the edge. His hands were surely leaving bruises where they kneaded into Wooyoung's hips, and then Wooyoung's hands were working open the laces of his pants.

San reached down to swat his hands away and help him, letting Wooyoung latch onto his neck while he undid the laces on both of their pants. As soon as they were undone, Wooyoung immediately lifted and started wiggling out of his, but San stopped him with a firm hand on his thigh. His other came up to lift Wooyoung's chin and he locked their gazes.

“Once more, angel,” he breathed, keeping his eyes connected with Wooyoung’s, watching him, “are you absolutely sure this is what you want?”

Wooyoung said nothing, but instead he trailed a hand down from San’s neck, over his chest, his stomach, and to where his own still rested heavy on his thigh. He lifted it and moved it to rest on his lower back, and kept San’s eyes while he was finally free to lift himself and remove his pants. They pooled on the floor in front of San, then he reached forward to push San’s pants down to join his. Wooyoung wrapped his hands around San’s waist and pulled him forward, locked his legs around him, and both of them groaned when their unclothed cocks touched and rubbed together.

“San, I have never been more certain of anything in my life.”

San smiled at him as he moved in for a much slower, more passionate kiss that sent chills to both of their cores. While he kissed him and his tongue rubbed and curled around Wooyoungs, San pushed against him and leaned him back. He was almost laying on top of the barrel, his arms wrapped tightly around San’s neck so he didn't fall back, and San reached back to lift his legs and bend them into his chest.

He parted from Wooyoung's lips only long enough to briefly suck on three fingers, before he was back to devouring him while his hand slipped down to Wooyoung's entrance. He wasted no time in pressing the tip of his first finger inside him, trying to go as slow as he could when Wooyoung turned his head to the side and hissed.

“Relax, Wooyoung,” he breathed and nosed his cheek, “relax and let me in, I won't hurt you, I would never hurt my angel.”

Eventually Wooyoung nodded, wrapping his arms tighter around San’s and tucking his face into the crook of his neck. San continued pushing his finger in, and bit by bit he made it all the way. Wooyoung was still tensed, still hissing long breaths in his ear, so as San pulled out and added a second finger he began grinding long and deep against him. It distracted Wooyoung enough that he was able to get the third finger in with ease, and when he curled them and Wooyoung arched and moaned his name, he knew he was ready.

He let Wooyoung's legs fall back down to wrap around his waist, and moved one arm to brace him against the barrel while his other hand reached down to line himself up. His tip pressed against Wooyoung's hole and the anticipation within him was nearly too much. He couldn't believe he was going to get to have Wooyoung like this, that Wooyoung truly wanted him in return the same way.

“Tell me if anything hurts, angel,” he said, and when Wooyoung nodded he pushed forward.

Wooyoung gasped as he seated himself in one unbroken thrust, and he was finally full of San. He took no time in starting up a slow and grinding rhythm, and Wooyoung got to know exactly how it felt to tangle his fingers in San’s sweat-dampened hair while he thrust deep inside him and kissed open mouthed along his neck. It was almost overwhelming, just on the brink of being too over stimulating, but he knew he would never get enough of it. No matter how much of himself San would give him, he would never be satisfied, he was an addiction Wooyoung would never quench.

San knew he wouldn't be long for their first time, being completely surrounded by Wooyoung was a feeling he'd never known, but one he revelled in. He moved his arms to wrap under Wooyoung's back and lifted him to sit on the edge of the barrel. He didn't falter his thrusts, but their new position allowed him to push even deeper inside Wooyoung, hitting a spot that had him writhing in his hold.

“More, Sannie,” he moaned and tugged at the hair still grasped in his hands, “go faster.”

Unable to deny his angel any request, he picked up his pace and thrust into Wooyoung with snapping hips. The sounds of their bodies slapping together, and the moans and groans of each other's names were the only thing that could be heard in the storage room, the two of them were completely shameless in the empty lower deck. But they were so caught up in their bliss and pleasure that neither of them even cared if anyone heard them.

Both of them were nearing their end, San could tell in the way Wooyoung's hands gripped even tighter at his hair and his ass clenched around him, and his thrusts were starting to become sporadic and uneven. Then the ship suddenly rocked again and forced Wooyoung harder down on San, his head jolted back and he ached against him, and the moan that ripped from his chest was enough to push San over the edge.

The boat rocked two more times before it was too much for both of them and Wooyoung came first. His legs tightened around San’s waist, his heels digging bruises into the backs of San’s thighs as he climaxed and released between them. San was quick to follow, only one thrust behind Wooyoung before he came inside him, stilling against him as he worked through his release.

They stayed pressed together for a while, coming down from their highs together and catching their breaths. Eventually San lifted his head from where he’d pressed it into Wooyoung's neck and kissed him softly. When he pulled back he smiled and lifted a hand to run through Wooyoung's hair, pushing the sweaty strands away from where they stuck to his forehead.

“That was perfect, angel,” he said and leaned in to steal another sweet kiss before chuckling, “I think I found a very effective way to distract you from your fear of being on the ship.”

Wooyoung laughed too, and it was true, it was the first time since they'd been on the boat that he hadn't been wracked with fear. If this was what it took to get him through until they reached port, he was more than okay with that.

“It's an effective method, and,” he teased his fingers along San’s jaw, luring him in closer, “I might be getting a little scared again now that it's over. You might have to take me back to the room and distract me all over again.”

“Mmm,” San hummed against his lips and smacked a quick kiss before pulling back, “then let's get dressed so we can hurry back upstairs and climb into bed so I can do just that. Can't have my angel scared.”

“I might be scared all the way back to port.” He ran his hands up to tangle in San’s hair again. “Think you can handle that?”

“I look forward to it.”

The two of them were on each other again, lips crashing together in a bruising kiss, the rocking of the ship long forgotten.

~~~~~~~~~~~

A/N: Hey! I know it's been a minute, but I am working on updating all of the chapters here. Everything is up to date on AO3, but I will be adding quite a lot of chapters tonight so don't get lost, make sure you follow the masterlist. Enjoy your reading and please let me know what you think! <3

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godlizzza · 2 years ago

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HERE ME OUT-

An AU where Dan is spiderman and Herbert works at Oscorp/Alchemax (or whatever the equivalent would be in this AU) and Herbert gives Dan intell on important stuff. Mabye Dr Hill is Green Goblin? Idk I've been hyperfixating on Spiderverse recently and I had this idea randomly.

Dan was growing concerned with how well-acquainted he'd become with the route to a specific window at the Hilltop headquarters. There was a hotel across the street that gave him a perfect swing to the nineteenth floor, allowing him to land precisely on his mark. He crawled over the panes of glass, wind rushing past his ears. He spared a single glance at the lines of traffic stuck bumper-to-bumper on the roads below before rapping his knuckles on the window.

In and out, Dan promised himself.

Moments later the window was being pushed open and the familiar form of Herbert West was ushering him inside.

Dan deftly slipped over the windowsill, rolling to stand in the center of Herbert's lab. Beakers and vials of every colour bubbled on his workbench, the various machines lining the walls buzzing and humming with power.

"Back already," Herbert observed, latching the window shut once more, then turning to face Dan. He was dressed in his usual lab coat, the white fabric already stained black in large patches with soot.

"Little early to try blowing yourself up, isn't it?" Dan quipped, squinting at the various machines Herbert used for God-knew-what. "Even by your standards."

Herbert huffed, patting down his shoulders and frazzled hair, puffs of smoke wafting off of him in the process. "Some of us have been hard at work. We don't get to spend our time galivanting around the city, rescuing cats from trees."

Dan rolled his eyes, knowing Herbert couldn't see it from beneath his mask. "Yeah, that's totally what I've been up to. Now, have you made the antidote or what?"

"I said I would, didn't I?" Herbert replied, though all ire instantly vanished from his face. He looked excited as he scampered over to his work bench, fiddling with the beakers until he came away with a vial of bright red liquid. It seemed to glow, casting a pale pink light across his face and reflecting in the lenses of his glasses. "This should do the trick. If you drink this, it ought to negate Hill's mind control powers long enough to give you a shot at taking him down."

"How long?" Dan pressed, taking the vial and turning it over in his hands.

"I can't say for certain," Herbert said. "There's not exactly a way for me to test it without Hill's cooperation, but I'd estimate about ten minutes."

Dan hummed, considering this. Even without his powers, it would be difficult to get close enough to Hill for it to matter. The man was flanked by his cybernetic bodyguards round the clock. Dan would still have to fight his way through them to get at Hill, but ten minutes with his mind intact was better odds than going in completely vulnerable.

"Thanks," Dan said, pocketing the vial.

Herbert gave him a thin smile. "Don't mention it. Any losses Hill takes will be well worth it."

"I don't know how you can stand it," Dan confessed. "Being around him, knowing he could take your will away, just like that."

He snapped his fingers between them but Herbert appeared unconcerned.

"He doesn't see a need to use them on me," Herbert said. "So long as he doesn't see me as a threat, I'm in the clear." His eyes twinkled as he swept his gaze along the length of Dan's black and green suit, lingering on the spider insignia stamped over his chest. "And so are you."

Dan crossed his arms, leaning back to smile at the other man. "Yeah, well, I can't have my only in at Hilltop getting compromised. So, keep your nose clean, okay, Doc?"

Herbert pursed his lips, narrowing his eyes at Dan as though trying to determine if he was being had or not. Eventually he gave a short nod.

"I'll do my best. Now, get out there and pulverize my boss, will you? He should almost be at the project site by now."

Dan saluted him, then backed up towards the window. He undid the latch and hopped up to crouch on the windowsill, the outside wind brushing his toes. He glanced over his shoulder to see Herbert keenly watching him, and felt the urge to do something truly outrageous, like blow him a kiss. Instead, he merely waved good-bye then dove out the window.

He fell, plummeting towards the ground long enough to let him catch his breath, before he shot a line of webbing at the corner of the hotel and swung away. As he raced across the city, the vial secured snuggly in his pocket, he couldn't stop thinking about Herbert's eyes burning with intensity as he watched him.

They were a pretty colour, on the cusp between green and brown. Dan couldn't remember if he'd noticed before.

#i also watched atsv recently and loved it #dan as spider-man/peter is good match with the whole 'good at science thing' considered #im also just a fan of spidey in general so this is v entertaining to me #danbert #dan cain #herbert west #spider-dan #re-animator #my fics #asks #writing prompt

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chaoticrobotics · 2 years ago

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will security alert ever come back? I just found it and i love the story. i hope it comes back :(

I didn't want to say anything because I really don't want people pressuring me (don't worry about your ask being seen as pressure, you are one of the nicer people to ask when it's coming back unlike a lot of people on tiktok), but I was going to TRY and just get through it and finish the damn story.

Unfortunately, right now I have no way to draw digitally. I am having a new tablet being shipped so whenever that gets here I will have to get used to it before getting into anything big.

So that being said... There is a very SMALL possibility that I am going to continue Security Alert. I am definitely abandoning all the other small comics I was doing, and honestly I wish I had done that sooner and maybe I would have finished Security Alert in the first place, but I didn't so I just severely burnt myself out and needed to just stop for a while on the comic.

So again. There are no definite promises that it is coming back. But I do want to finish the story. You might be able to tell though that I am not all that excited to do so in my tone.

Personally, I really do want to finish the story, because it is fun to think about the story itself, but thinking about actually sitting down and drawing the story, for a lot of people who weren't even appreciating the work I put into the story and just wanted the next part (again, not you specifically, but a lot of other people on other sites) just makes me feel sick and hateful to the comic and the game/media in general.

Literally the DLC came out and barely revived any of my love I used to have for this whole thing. The only thing it did do was reinforce my love for the Mini Music Men lol (I do wish we saw DJ Music Man in the DLC, that would have been cool).

So yeah. I am going to TRY and get through the story. The style is definitely going to be different and I might do smaller parts as well, but it's going to still be a while until I am going to do so since, like I said, I physically can't draw digitally right now. I also want to try and actually get a bunch of pages done before releasing new content so that I am not feeling as pressured to actually rush myself.

I was going to try and do all of this without saying anything to just surprise people while also not disappoint people if I never actually go through with continuing, but enough people have been following me and asking recently (most likely because of the DLC) that I am just gonna say this.

So if you came here for content, just be patient I guess. I do have the whole story planned out since before I stopped making content, and I am not changing anything because of the DLC, so some things aren't going to line up with the DLC, but I honestly don't care anymore and just want to get this story done so I can get this weight off my shoulders whenever I think about this comic.

Thanks for reading this far if you did. I'll do my best to get the comic up and running again, but again, like I said multiple times, don't get your hopes up too high. It will be a bit until I can get going again, and this time I am going to take my sweet ass time with this comic so I don't end up absolutely hating this comics and franchise by the end of it. Hang in there and hopefully I can finish this. I am one person doing this for free, so let's all hope I keep my motivation this time and actually get to the end of this story (pretty sure at this point in the story we are like 1/3 or half-way done, so if I can go with my original place then there should be quite a bit more content for me to make).

#chaostalks #noart #asks #if i sound rude or upset #i'm not trying to be #so please don't take it personally #i am just sick and tired of this comic #wish i never started it #it wasn't even supposed to be a comic in the first place #it was supposed to be a funny mini comic #and then i would have just made illustrations #and mini comics #it was NEVER supposed to be this big #none of my comics were #but this is the price i pay #by letting people peer pressure me into making a story #people on tiktok asked for a part two #and because of that you all got this story #and i lost a loved interest of mine

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guardiandae · 2 years ago

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Tagged by the wonderful @rayadraws!

1. How many works do you have on AO3? 70

2. What's your total AO3 word count?

710,529

3. What fandoms do you write for?

One Punch Man, Marvel. Formerly BTVS.

4. What are your top 5 fics by kudos?

" - 2,391 kudos "Natural" - 2,448 kudos "5+7" - 3,341 kudos "Milkyway" - 4,601 kudos "Salvaged" - 6,567

5. Do you respond to comments? Why or why not?

Oh yes! But i have a habit that tends to backfire on me... I'll respond to all comments for a while and then after a couple weeks I'll stop responding because I want to finish a chapter first.... this is fine except sometimes by the time I let myself respond to all those old comments it's been like.... 5 years. LOL. But I really do like to reply to every single one.

6. What is a fic you wrote with the angstiest ending?

The Distance Between Us

7. What's the fic you wrote with the happiest ending?

Sugar & Spice

8. Do you get hate on fics?

Lmfao. Surprisingly rarely! I've maybe gotten two actual hate comments on my more spicy account. I've gotten more hate comments for making Saitama transmasc, but not by much. But like... I didn't make him transmasc anyway, it just happened. But yeah if people are whiny little bitches and I just roast them and then delete their comment because that doesn't fly for me, especially the transphobic weirdos.

9. Do you write smut? If so, what kind?

Hell yeah. Ummm I like it when the weiners touch 👉👈

Actually lemme see. On my main account, my top tags are kind of all over the place. Mainly fluffy stuff, dirty talk. On my secret second account we'll get better results.... Watersports/Urination - obviously. Anal sex - duh, but boring. Dubious consent - spicy. Felching - MM. 🙏 Male lactation - MILK. HIM. 💦

10. Do you write crossovers? What's the craziest one you've written?

Only "Now Recruiting", which still gets a lot of love tbh. It's about the Avengers trying to recruit Saitama, which isn't too crazy. Fun though!

11. Have you ever had a fic stolen?

WOOF. I hope not. The sites that scrape fics are scary.

12. Have you ever had a fic translated?

Oh yeah 💜 I love my international fans, and I always say yes when someone asks to translate. I just ask that they remember to link up with mine!

13. Have you ever co-written a fic before?

My memory is bad but I really don't think so. I don't play well with others >.< Also why I have turned down RP requests every time.

14. What's your all-time favorite ship?

Wade/Nate. It might have hibernated for years, but it came back with a vengeance when it came back. But any ship I've written for, it's gotta be a hyperfixation for me, so I promise I love them all.

15. What's a wip you want to finish, but doubt you ever will?

[Redacted]. But I'm not sure it's that I never will - it's that I think I overshot my ending and I actually need to hack it back a little and just end the fic. The way I kept going, it would've added another small arc to the fic that made it end on a sad note. And That, I'd probably never finish. The fic is old enough though that even thinking about opening it up to do that makes me cringe.

Secondary: Salvaged. But don't panic! It's not that I'll never finish it, it's that I will but still not any time soon. ;; It'll be a lot of work to open it up again and finish it. I wanna finish some other projects first, including new ones (oops). But I don't feel 'cringe' about opening it again. Just a loooottt of files to sift through.

16. What are your writing strengths?

I'm told my dialogue is amazing. I think it's because I enjoy practicing the lines, over and over again, and pacing everything out to make sure it sounds like something the character would actually say, and somewhat flow in real time.

I'm also quite lucky at being able to have details fall into place in really interesting ways. So that thing that seems elaborately planned out, who knows, lol. It's sort of half elaborately planned and half happy coincidence.

People also tell me that I manage to capture their imagination and especially their emotions. 🫶

17. What are your writing weaknesses?

Finishing. Haha. I'll either catch stage fright if something gets really popular (especially if there's a sex scene, oop) or I'll get bogged down with things needing to be perfect, or a secret third thing - I get really attached and don't want to end the AU because then I worry I'll forget it exists.

Memory problems. Returning to a fic is harder because even after a month I don't remember what happened. And if I'm going without writing for any period of time I feel like I forget who I am as a writer completely. Sometimes I really can't understand who wrote a fic of mine, because it doesn't feel like it was me.

18. Thoughts on writing dialogue in another language for a fic?

Ummmmm I do this very sparingly because I know that google translate is very flawed and I'm not fluent in any other language. Sometimes a little bit of french or spanish has been appropriate for a Deadpool fic, but not full dialogue.

19. First fandom you wrote for?

Buffy The Vampire Slayer <3 I didn't include that in my fic count tho.... I don't dare go back to That Place, even just to look (FF.net)

20. Favorite fic you've written?

I'm gonna have to break it up by ship otherwise this ain't even fair--

"Hello, Handsome" - Cablepool - it's just soooo creative and fun! and COMPLETE! "5+7" - Genosai - another really fun one, emotional ups and downs but ultimately soooo fluffy and nice and one of those fics that changed my life. Almost done! "Yours" - Skirth/Agony - a rare f/f pairing but I really enjoyed writing them <333 COMPLETE "Milkyway" - Eddie/Symbiote - can something be a fluffy family fic AND really dirty filthy kinky at the same time? Apparently, somehow. COMPLETE.

Tagging @aeriamamaduck @pohjanneito and @theomnicode!

#tag games

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ghostsandmirrors · 3 months ago

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If they could have one final conversation with someone important to them, what would they say? — for Bam

For Original Characters, How did you decide on their name? Does it have a special meaning?

Do you give them more agency or development compared to their canon counterpart? — for Bucky and Nat

If you had to write a single scene that encapsulates who they are, what would it be? — for any of the menagerie

CHARACTER CREATION QUESTIONS FOR WRITERS, CANON OR ORIGINAL.

under read more due to length.

If they could have one final conversation with someone important to them, what would they say?

Truthfully, if both Bam and the other person knew it was the final conversation they'd have, especially a close friend or family member (not his mum's ex-husband; fuck that man*), there would be at least one apology. He's hyper aware that he's annoying and he's also hyper aware that he cannot stop that. He just can't. He spent such a long time intentionally being annoying that it's second nature to him now, so he'd feel the need to apologise for what he considers his flaws.

Otherwise, he wouldn't know what to say. He's really bad at wording anything related to emotions, even positive emotions, so he'd struggle and probably waste the entire conversation just trying to figure out what the fuck he wants to say.

For Original Characters, How did you decide on their name? Does it have a special meaning?

You didn't specify and I honestly don't think about names before making them, so I'm going with the only one that I put any thought into at all.

Richard 'Dick' Justice.

In 2016/2017, I was RPing mostly on ProBoards/Jcink sites and one of them had a very short application that was just like, basics and then anything else. Kind of like my actual bio pages are right now. I decided to make a random character, put very little thought into them, and then needed a name.

Since it was an MCU site, I knew I needed to have '[something] Justice' because he wasn't a superhero and I thought it'd be funny for him to be indifferent to everything and have the last name Justice. It felt like such a comic book hero name that the subversion of expectation felt right.

Anyway, then I was like ''Dick' is just a funny name' so I called him Dick Justice.

Not as funny as Ryszard 'Richard'/'Dick' Blast (an MCU OC on a different low effort app site), I'll be honest. I think 'Dick Blast' is infinitely funnier than 'Dick Justice', but I also just love the name 'Dick Justice' so much that I will never change it. His name is goddamn Dick Justice and he's Some Guy.

I did also put thought into Bam's name, I realised about halfway through writing this, but it's less funny than Dick Justice.

Do you give them more agency or development compared to their canon counterpart?

Bucky As much as I like to think I give him more development than canon, I probably don't actually. There's, y'know, almost 100 years of comic canon and then also the films and the extended MCU on top of that, so he's probably very under-developed in comparison.

He absolutely does not have more agency than canon, though, but that's mostly because I just like poking the habitual self-dehumanisation with a stick. If I didn't find that interesting to play with, he'd probably have far more agency than canon.

Natasha I'm not comfortable with Nat so I can guarantee the answer is, 'she's under-developed and lacking agency,' bcus Idk her. We both just work here.

If you had to write a single scene that encapsulates who they are, what would it be?

I feel like I accidentally did that for Duo in his DBD verse's about (use the outline to get to Duo's section), tbh. It's meant to be verse specific but, lbr, with how I write this fuckin bird, that's possible to happen at any time, in any place.

It has everything; horror elements, meme shit, murder, mentions of 'promises', the unending need to teach languages... Nothing else would fit him as well as that.

---

* so I don't remember if I had a name in mind when I made Bam on this blog but there isn't one on his bio. the ex-husband is either Donald or Eamon. his name was Donald for like 10 years then I changed it to Eamon for a single site and I don't know which one I planned on using here or if I didn't plan.

I probably didn't plan, lbr.

also I'm gonna try explain Bam's family tree... again.

Donald/Eamon/whoever the fuck this man is, is biologically Bam's uncle but brought Bam up thinking Donald/Eamon/that man was his dad. I should probably pick a name for him but also, fuck him. he's That Man, Bam's mum's ex-husband, Bam's half-brother's dad, Dylan's cousin's ex-fiancé.

teenage me was just like 'we don't need coherence, we need a tangled web of shite' and I admire that about her until I need to pick through that tangled web to explain Bam's fuckin family tree.

#ooc #ooc!ask #ooc!answer #superboyandtheinvisiblegirls #tyyyy #I forgot how much thought I put into Dick's name which is funnier because of the lack of effort in the rest of his creation #put it in the queue

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aishangotome · 9 months ago

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Chapter 10-9 Personally Braving the Risks (躬親試險)

Chapter 10-8

The public inoculation site was arranged on the city wall.

This wall was the tallest structure in Lingzhou, the best place for it to be seen by the most people.

I sat atop the city wall, Zhan Yun standing beside me. We looked down together at the gathered crowd.

Princess: When will Han You's troops arrive?

Zhan Yun: Scouts say that due to an avalanche along the way, Han You's army changed its route. I've calculated that it will take at least half a month.

Zhan Yun: We also caught Han You's spy in the city, just as you instructed, Princess. He has already been infected with the plague. This is his last unsent letter.

Zhan Yun handed me a pigeon, bound and tied. I pulled the letter from its leg.

Princess: This was written before Qianjin Pei delivered the supplies. The letter says that Lingzhou City is short on supplies and cannot last long, and riots may break out at any time.

Zhan Yun: Shall we destroy this letter?

Princess: Let it go. Han You needs a bit of "misleading" information.

Zhan Yun: Yes.

Zhan Yun refolded the letter and used a knife to cut the ropes binding the pigeon. The pigeon stretched its wings and soared high in the wind and snow.

Lu Ming: Can you stop worrying about Han You at a time like this?!

Lu Ming finally couldn't help but interrupt our conversation. He was staring at a small patch of skin on my wrist, repeatedly pressing it with his finger.

Princess: Don't be nervous.

Lu Ming: I-I'm not! I'm just relaxing your meridians, to keep you from being tense!

Princess: Physician Lu is so considerate.

Lu Ming: Let me tell you first, I have anesthetic. If you're afraid, you can just sleep through it. You'll be fine after you wake up.

Princess: No, I need to be awake for the whole process.

Lu Ming: I also brought painkillers. If you're afraid of pain, I can inject them around the area to ease the pain.

Princess: It's not like we're scraping bones to heal an injury. I'll be fine.

Lu Ming: Alright then, I'm going to start.

Lu Ming placed the tip of the knife in the lamp flame, sterilizing it repeatedly. He held his breath, then used the tip of the knife to pierce my skin.

His hand was steady, the incision clean and precise. Seemingly sensing my gaze, Lu Ming looked up.

Lu Ming: Does it hurt?

Princess: Of course it hurts.

Lu Ming's face suddenly turned pale.

Princess: Stay strong, so many people are watching.

Lu Ming: I'm not going to faint!

He carefully made a small cross-shaped cut on my hand, took out the diluted plague liquid, and dripped it onto the open wound. Then he wrapped my arm with gauze.

I stood up and raised my arm high for the people below the city wall to see.

Princess: Righteousness enters the body and can fight against the plague. If I am fine after three days, all the people in the city will need to be inoculated! Young children and the elderly first, followed by the able-bodied adults.

Everyone's eyes were quietly fixed on me.

Princess: Lingzhou is everyone's home. I promise you, I will never give up on anyone here. The plague will definitely disappear!

An old man on crutches stepped out from the crowd.

Old Man: If the Princess is willing to face the danger herself, this old man has nothing to fear. I am willing to be inoculated.

Monk: Amitabha, the monks of Huguo Temple will follow the Princess's arrangements.

The second person to step out of the crowd was the monk I had met the other day. Behind him stood a dozen other monks from the temple, including Ling Chi.

Our eyes met across the crowd. Ling Chi pressed his palms together and bowed to me.

I returned the gesture, watching as people began to line up in an orderly fashion to register. I couldn't help but feel my eyes stinging.

I once allowed the seeds of hatred to take root and sprout freely, feeding on the flesh and blood of my heart, but it didn't bring me any joy.

Hatred is always selfish, it's only for oneself, but love can save everything.

Princess: They will all survive.

Lu Ming: Yes, the people here all support you.

Lu Ming's cheerful voice sounded beside me, pulling me out of my self-imposed gloom.

Princess: You never used to speak so sincerely.

Lu Ming: Huh? I... I was just expressing my feelings. Is that not allowed?

Lu Ming raised his hand and scratched his hair. I then noticed a mark on his wrist.

The mark was exactly the same as the one on my wrist, already starting to scab over.

Princess: You! You already tested the medicine on yourself?

Lu Ming was startled and subconsciously hid his hand behind his back.

Lu Ming: I didn't... Yes, I did test the medicine on myself! How else could I be sure it was safe to inoculate you with it?!

His face flushed red, embarrassed as if he was about to run away at any moment. I didn't give him the chance and hugged him.

Lu Ming: ...You!

Princess: Thank you, Lu Ming.

Lu Ming: ...

The young man's tense and stiff body slowly relaxed.

Lu Ming: You should thank yourself... Hmph, of course, I'm also a brilliant physician!

We both laughed.

Chapter 10-10

If you’d like to support my translations, feel free to buy me a coffee here! :)

#yao guang lu translation #princess in troubled times

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k-evans-reads · 3 years ago

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In Living Color

Chapter 3

Summary: When Natalie Marton, lead character designer for Buzz Lightyear, meets the voice of Buzz, Chris Evans, the sparks are undeniable. But when their work pushes them away from each other, both physically and emotionally, will the sheer differences between their worlds be enough to force them apart?

Pairing: Chris Evans x Pixar Animator OFC Natalie Marton

Word Count: 5,390

By: @k-evans-writes and @ourfinest-hour

We do NOT give permission for our works to be reuploaded, translated, or reposted on any other site. Our work is our own.

Warnings: Discussions about cancer and death.

Previous | Main Masterlist | In Living Color Masterlist

March 2021

A few small pops echoed in Chris’ body as he stretched out his shoulders after stepping into his trailer. It had been a long day of filming – long few weeks, really, after starting filming two weeks ago – and he could feel it in his muscles, especially now at the end of the work day. He knew he desperately needed a shower but he just had to sit down on the small couch in the trailer for a moment and have a moment to decompress from the long day.

Absentmindedly he grabbed his phone that had been left on the arm of the couch, clicking it on to see a long list of unopened texts, but a certain name caught his eye almost immediately. He quickly clicked on it and smiled widely as he read the message that asked, ‘Got time in your busy movie star schedule for a game night tonight?’

Immediately Chris clicked the call button, putting it on speaker and leaning back against the couch, not even letting Nat say hello before he asked, “Have I missed the cutoff for reserving a spot at game night?”

She chuckled, the low sound making him smirk as it carried through to his end of the call. “I guess for a famous person like you I better squeeze you in or it’ll be bad publicity,” she drawled playfully.

He laughed, his nose scrunching as he smiled and replied, “Oh I’d cause a scene if the bouncer turned me away.”

“I bet you would,” she hummed, trailing off into a pause. “Are you being serious about coming though?”

“Should I not be?”

“Well I just figured you’d be too busy doing movie star things like getting photographed by the paparazzi or schmoozing a million different women.”

“There’s still plenty of time for that later,” he sarcastically agreed, knowing there was no actual intent behind her words. “But seriously Nat, I’d love to come. It sounds like fun.”

“It’s just going to be a small thing, just Jamie and his wife and then Mark,” she explained, muffled sounds on the other end of the line as he heard her car door shut. “Things get pretty serious though around here so I hope you’re competitive.”

“Nat, I have three siblings, what do you think?” He laughed, smirking as she joined him. “I just finished up on set. I was going to take a shower and then I'll head over, is that okay?”

“Yeah, just drop in anytime. I’ll text you my address.”

He stayed on the phone with her a minute more to confirm the address that she texted him came through before they said their goodbyes and hung up. Chris could feel a smile on his lips while he hurried into the shower, suddenly feeling so much more energy inside him than when he had trudged into the trailer just a few minutes earlier.

Chris knew it’d only been a short month and a half since he first met Nat, but he was just as struck by her as he was the very first day, when she came barreling into that conference room. He was drawn to her, craving her jokes, stress-free demeanor, and lighthearted passion like he craved the sun on his skin. She just made him happy, made him feel whole and relaxed in a way no one had ever before.

Now that he had finished with working on Lightyear until re-recording, he had jumped right into The Gray Man filming but he found himself missing that curly headed ray of sunshine in his life every single morning. They had basically had a running text thread but it wasn’t nearly enough for him and having the promise of being with her as soon as he made it through LA traffic made a warmth settled inside of him.

He navigated the San Fernando neighborhood until he pulled up to the apartment building that the address led him to, parking his car and taking the stairs two at a time up to the second floor with a case of beer in hand, walking down the open-air hallway until he reached unit number seven. After knocking on the door loudly, he heard a familiar voice yelling, “Come in! It’s open!”

He pushed the wooden front door and stepped into the hallway. He could see the open doorway at the end of the hall to Nat’s room, and next to that was the open living area. While he couldn’t outright see anyone, he could certainly hear the chaos inside, complete with Nat evidently yelling “Stop stealing my tacos, asshole.” He rounded the corner, stepping out of the hallway and into the living room to find Nat, Jamie, Mark, and Jamie’s wife standing around a round table, passing food to each other out of take-out boxes, with an empty spot reserved for Chris. With a furtive glance to the rest of the space, he saw a decent-sized, especially for the apartment, kitchen across the room from the table, against the wall with Nat’s bedroom, and then the rest of the space was a living room with large windows.

Jamie’s wife – Lauren, he reminded himself – gave him a kind smile just before the rest of the group looked up with grins, but quickly Nat’s face turned into a scowl as she loudly asked, “Hold on, what the hell is that?”

His brows furrowed, shifting the beer between his hands just as he asked her, “What?”

“That thing on your face!”

Jamie snorted, sharing a smirk with Lauren before Mark drawled, “For someone good looking, I’m not sure why you’d ruin your face with that.”

“I mean, it works for porn stars, I figured I’d give it a try,” Chris shrugged nonchalantly, reaching up to touch his new mustache, hiding a smirk as he moved to put the beer on the counter and began putting a few in the fridge for later, the smirk appearing just as he heard Jamie snort again.

Nat’s face was still nearly pained as she watched him, Chris laughing as he turned and saw the look. “Please tell me that’s for a role and not just a mid-life crisis thing,” she nearly begged, but the twitch of her lips showed how amusing she found this.

“It is so you all can calm down,” he placated, taking the already cold beer that was waiting for him in the fridge and opening it.

“I don’t think we can because we’re still the ones who have to look at it,” Nat muttered, smirking when he met her eyes.

“Don’t worry, you’ll forget about it once I’m kicking your ass at scrabble.”

“I’d love to see you try.”

“Well you’ll see it very shortly.”

She rolled her eyes, waving a hand as she shot back, “Okay bigmouth, have a taco and then put your money where your mouth is.”

Taking the taco that she handed him, he found a spot at the table and crunched on the dinner while the loud conversation filled in around him, making him feel right at home. It had been so long since he’d been able to do things like this with anyone other than his family and at first he thought that the reason he was having such a good time was because of having been without it for so long, but he knew that was only partly true. He knew the other reason he was enjoying himself so much was because of the feisty artist across the table from him arguing with Mark over if her most recent scrabble play was really a word or made up, then shooting him smirks just before making her next move, only aided by the phone she “definitely wasn’t looking up words on, Christopher,” that was laying in her lap.

“How in the world do you guys play with this cheater?”

“I’m not cheating!”

“Really? Because that phone you have out says otherwise,” he loudly retorted, hands flying before he pointed at Nat.

“Oh look, I have the perfect letters for you,” Nat smiled while holding up the tile with the letter F and then showed him the U next, making the whole table burst into laughter.

“When I was invited to game night, I didn’t think I’d be getting this kind of abuse.”

“What did you think it would be? There are no friends on game night,” she murmured with a laugh, her foot gently kicking his shin from across the way underneath the table.

“That’s why Nat’s single. Once someone comes to game night, they run screaming,” Jamie explained with a laugh, Chris joining in.

But Mark quickly shook his head, pointing a finger as he, a bit excitedly, insisted, “Evans calls her out though, he can hang.”

“Well if you guys knew what game night with my family was like, this would look like the girl scouts,” Chris trailed off, smiling to himself as he took a sip of his beer.

With Nat’s playful eyeroll, Jamie settled into the rattan chair, tilting his head at Chris as he asked, “So how do we get you to stick around?”

But before he could respond, Lauren spoke up, quiet as she laughed, “I need you to stick around too because usually I can’t even keep up with these three so you can take my place and I’ll stay home.”

“I think it’s going to be more the other way around. Once you guys see how competitive I am, I think this will be the first and last game night Nat will invite me too,” he grinned, shooting Nat a look as he smirked at her.

But he barely heard Mark’s soft chuckle and strained his ears, just in time to hear the older man murmur, “Yeah, I doubt that.”

At his words, Chris couldn’t help but glance across the table to see Nat’s reaction, watching the way she just ignored what was said and moved around the scrabble tiles on her board. The game carried on until they shifted to a gigantic puzzle, one that Nat had bought when she “was going stir crazy during quarantine for a stupidly jacked-up price on Amazon,” until Lauren and James had to go relieve their babysitter. Mark dipped out as well with a yawn, the trio saying goodbye to Chris before they headed to the door with Nat.

He had just begun rinsing dishes to load her dishwasher when Nat returned from walking Jamie, Lauren, and Mark to the front door, a loud sigh filling the room as she quietly instructed him, “Chris, please don’t clean anything up.”

Chris scoffed as he turned to look at her from over his shoulder, the dishwasher blocking her from reaching him as he insisted, “Well I’m certainly not going to just leave this mess.”

“You’ve been filming all day, I’m sure you’re tired. Seriously, I’ve got this, it won’t take me long,” she shook her head, stepping around the dishwasher carefully to get to him, her hand on his arm as she turned the sink off with her other hand.

“It’ll go even faster if I help you,” he tried, all too aware of the hand still on his arm, resting on his bare skin below the short sleeve of his tee shirt.“Besides I’m pretty sure my Ma would fly out here from Boston and beat my ass if she knew I didn’t stay to help.”

She was quiet for several moments, her jaw set stubbornly. “Well that’s a pretty long flight so let’s not put her through that. You want to put the game away?” She relented, nodding her head over to the table, messy with pieces from Scrabble and covered in puzzle pieces from the gigantic, five-hundred piece puzzle they’d started about an hour and a half before James and Lauren had to go relieve their babysitter, Mark leaving as well. Chris was careful as he began picking up the Scrabble pieces, not wanting to mess with the puzzle too much as Natalie took his place loading the dishwasher. “So does just your mom live in Boston or do any of your siblings live there too?”

His back was to her as he squatted down, finding some tiles on her area rug and putting them in the bag. “My older sister Carly and her husband and kids live there,” he informed her.

She hummed as she fumbled a dish, the rattle of it hitting the sink echoing through the space. Nat froze as Chris turned, the pair laughing together. Once they calmed down and he’d gotten back to rifling for more game tiles to put away, she asked him, “She’s the teacher, right?”

“Yeah and she’s the only one with kids yet,” he supplied, sneaking a glance over his shoulder at her from behind, forcing himself to stop watching her as he continued, “Then my little sister lives there too and so does her fiance.”

“Scott lives in California though,” she said, almost as if to remind herself as she turned to look at him from over her shoulder with a furrowed brow. He was facing her now, standing in between the table and the back wall, and when he met her eyes he nodded encouragingly.

“Yep, down in West Hollywood with his boyfriend, which is nice that when I’m out here I get to see him,” Chris reminded her, they’d spoken about Scott during one of their countless lunches at Disney’s Burbank Studios between the end of February and the beginning of filming The Gray Man. He couldn’t remember when – or how – Scott had come up in conversation, likely when Chris was complaining about something, or what they’d spoken about, but that tended to be the theme with Nat. He could barely remember a single thing he’d say, only zeroing in on what she’d said, how she’d laughed, and how she made him feel – confident and assured. It also served as a pleasant distraction, as he’d absentmindedly eat the bland healthy shit he needed to without realizing it, but it also was a curse, as Nat found ways to wheedle him into splitting a side of fries or an ice cream cone with her. “He’s coming with me to Europe for The Gray Man though and I’m really excited about that. He stayed with me in Boston during the pandemic, I think I mentioned that, and we just had the best fuckin’ time being together that much and now I miss him like crazy.”

“I understand that,” Nat nodded, a sympathetic smile on her lips before she turned the water off, placing the last dish in the dishwasher before she kicked it close with a grin. “I really have been missing my family so much.”

“Didn’t you say your dad was coming to visit? Did that already happen?” He remembered suddenly, tilting his head as he jammed the Scrabble board back into the worn box, slotting it onto the corner shelf he’d seen Nat get the puzzle from earlier. She had just finished wiping down the counters quickly when he’d turned back around, heading towards the fridge to get them one last beer before she joined him at the table in front of the puzzle.

She shook her head, handing him his beer as she explained, “Not yet, he’s coming in a couple weeks and I can’t wait. It feels like forever since I’ve seen him.”

He nodded, turning his head and finding the framed picture on the wall across from them he’d noticed early on in the night, three tiny curly-haired, nearly identical looking girls grinning at the camera. He could tell instantly that the smallest one was Nat, complete with the scraped knobby knees covered in various bandages, but his eyes lingered on the man and woman in the picture. He knew instantly who they were, but he was quiet as he asked, “Is this him?”

“Yeah, those are my parents,” she nodded, taking a deep breath. “And that’s me and my sisters there.”

He hummed, a small smile on his lips as he looked at the younger version of Nat, her short curly hair falling in rings around her chubby cheeks. “I love old photos like this with the whole family together,” he told her, turning back to look at her and asking, “They all live in Seattle still, right?”

“Yeah, my dad’s a ferry boat captain and has been our whole lives so he still does that,” she explained, oddly quiet for once. She paused to take a sip of her beer before adding, “And my sisters and their families live nearby too.”

Chris nodded, eyes moving back to the picture and to the woman holding toddler Nat in her lap. Her eyes were the same as Nat’s, blue and striking. “What about your mom?”

She hesitated and took a deep breath, staying quiet long enough for Chris to look at her confusedly until she quietly explained, “My mom passed away,”

He felt like an absolute idiot, knowing now that she’d deliberately avoided any outright mention of her mother until he all but demanded an explanation. For nearly two months now, the only family she spoke of was her father, sisters, and her nieces and nephew. “Oh Nat, I’m so sorry,” he apologized, mentally beating himself up for forcing her to discuss something that clearly was hard for her to do.

“It’s alright,” she placated, but her words did little to quell him. It wasn’t until she gave him a smile that his heart rate began to lessen. She began to assemble a few puzzle pieces in front of her, slotting them into the empty spaces from earlier as she explained, “My mom died when I was almost two and this picture is the one of the few pictures we have of the whole family together, so that’s why it’s kind of special to me.”

He was quiet, following her lead and resuming the puzzle. Once he’d snapped a few pieces of his own in, he apologized again, “Nat, I really am so sorry. I didn’t know about your mom.”

“It’s okay, it’s not something that really comes up in conversation very often,” she shrugged, biting her lower lip as she analyzed the puzzle to determine where her piece would fit, occasionally glancing at the box next to her. “I was so young when she died that I don’t remember her.”

“Do either of your sisters remember her?” He asked quietly, treading carefully before he rushed to add, “If you don’t mind me asking, it’s okay if you don’t want to talk about it. I don’t want to pry.”

“Sometimes it’s actually kind of nice to talk about her. It makes her feel a little bit more real,” she admitted, relaxing a bit before she sat up straight, a grin on her face as she placed her piece into the correct spot. “My oldest sister, Heather, remembers her a lot and my middle sister, Alex, has some memories, but my dad always talked about her and told us so many stories about her.”

“I’m sure it was hard for him so that’s really incredible that he kept talking about her.”

“My dad adored her and as painful as it was, I think he likes sharing her with us. Even now he talks about her all the time and says things like ‘Shelly would think that’s so funny,’ or ‘Mom would have loved that about you, Nattie,’ and that’s kind of helped keep her alive for us.”

He smiled, chin in his hand as he listened to her. He watched her work effortlessly on the puzzle, unable to sit still for long, as she told him the stories from her life. “Your dad sounds like a wonderful person,” he told her with not an ounce of doubt in his mind.

“He is,” Nat told him, handing a pile of pieces to Chris for him to sort through. “He raised three girls with all the love in the world. Even though we only had one parent, it never felt like we missed anything.”

He nodded as he rifled through pieces, sorting them into piles depending on the color of the piece. “I know you’ve mentioned before that your sisters are a lot different than you… who’s more like your dad?”

She all but snorted, loosened up again as the topic approached more comfortable subjects. “Oh for sure, me. He’s kind of quirky and is probably the biggest dreamer I know. He had to give up a lot to support us as a single dad, but he always pushed us to follow our heart… especially me. He’s the one who insisted I go to art classes,” she explained, shrugging a bit as she took another sip of her beer.

And he knew without a doubt that Nat – despite her obvious talents – wouldn’t be where she was without the support of her father, something she likely felt as well given the look in her eyes. “He obviously saw something special in you,” he pointed out.

“He sees something special in everyone,” she added, but paused, looking at the puzzle in front of them. “But I think there’s a part of him that really wanted me to get to do what I dreamed of. I’m not sure if it’s because I’m the youngest, or because he didn’t get the chance to chase after his dreams fully. I think he also feels a little guilty about me not having my mom… she had cancer when they got pregnant with me and my dad has told me that he feels guilty about choosing to have me knowing that I most likely wasn’t going to have a mother growing up.”

“Your dad is obviously a really tender person,” he told her quietly. “He does sound a lot like you.”

“I’d like to be half the person he is.”

“Well I don’t know him but I think you are, and a lot more,” he shrugged, a genuine smile on his lips when she met his eyes.

“Thanks Chris,” she genuinely told him, her voice small. “Sorry for just spilling all of that out, I didn’t mean to just dump all of that on you.”

“I’m honored that you did,” he admitted, shrugging. “I love people being honest about their emotions and willing to share them, I think it’s such a beautiful thing.”

He watched as Nat tipped her head back, curls shaking with her laughter before her twinkling eyes gave away her amusement, “Well I’m an artist so I have like every emotion known to man, usually all at once.”

“I know that feeling,” Chris muttered, knowing what a deeply emotional person that he had always been and still was. “I especially was feeling a lot of them when you hit me in the forehead with that scrabble tile earlier.”

“...You deserved it,” she simply replied, making his heart beat a little quicker from the look on her face.

“Says who?”

“Says me.”

“Sounds like a pretty weak reasoning to me,” Chris couldn’t help but send a smirk in her direction before his blue eyes glanced over to the clock hanging on her wall, internally groaning before telling her, “I hate to say it but I probably should head out. I have an early call tomorrow morning.”

A wry smirk spread across her lips and she huffed out a laugh as she pushed her chair back. “Yeah you movie stars need your beauty sleep.”

He laughed along with her, shaking his head as they both rose from their seats and made their way down her front hall to the apartment door. “Thanks for inviting me tonight Nat, it was really nice,” he told her quietly.

“I had a great time too,” she told him, making Chris’ stomach tighten a little by the look on her face before she tucked some of her curls behind her ear, “This is kind of our Tuesday night thing so you’re always welcome if you’re not too busy fending off the paparazzi.”

“Well I’d love to come again but it’ll just depend on how much you cheat,” he smirked, dodging a light shove from Nat at his words.

She rolled her eyes playfully, muttering, “Sounds like I invited you back a little too preemptively.”

“Too late now,” he shot a look in her direction while slipping his feet into the sneakers he had left by the door. “So I’ll see you next Tuesday?”

“Next Tuesday,” She nodded, coming over to the door where he was finishing getting his shoes on. “Night Chris.”

He turned, shooting a genuine smile just before she moved, slipping her arms around his broad frame and squeezing him before she pulled away, just as he murmured, “Goodnight Nat.”

With one last smile shared between them, he stepped out of her apartment into the night, heading down to his car as he smiled to himself. As he stepped out of the covered stairwell and towards the parking lot, he quickly found his car, getting in and turning it on, just as he finally pulled out his phone for the first time since he got to the apartment complex several hours earlier.

He wasn’t surprised to see a multitude of missed notifications, including an email with tomorrow’s call times, a reminder of where he was to go to get a COVID test before he would be allowed on set, a few texts – one from his mom, his sister, and several from Scott – along with two missed calls from him.

Deciding to just call Scott back, he began driving as the call connected to his car’s Bluetooth. It only rang one or two times before his brother’s dry voice answered, “I was starting to think you were dead.”

“Sorry, I was over at Nat’s house tonight and-”

“Nat?”

“Yeah Natalie, she’s the Pixar animator I’ve been working with a little on Lightyear,” he reminded him, looking out his car windows at traffic before he turned onto the street and began the thirty minute drive home.

“No, I remember who she is… I mean, how could I forget with how much you talk about her,” Scott trailed off, his voice surprised.

“Well she just had a few of her co-workers over that she’s close with for a game night and I went,” Chris explained, frowning slightly before he turned his attention back to the road. “Was there something you were wanting to talk about or were you just calling to say hi?”

Scott chuckled lowly, a few muffled sounds on the other end of the call as he moved around. “I was calling to tell you a funny story but now I’m a little more interested in what’s going on with you,” he admitted.

“What do you mean?”

“About Nat,” Scott shot back, Chris able to practically see his younger brother roll his eyes. “Are you into her?”

“I mean, I really enjoy her… and she’s very attractive, but I don’t know yet,” he sighed, shifting uncomfortably at the change in conversation. He’d definitely thought about it, it was only natural after spending so much time with Nat in the past month and a half, but he was scared to ruin something with someone he had to work so closely with, especially someone whose role was solely to work on his character for the next year.

“You don’t know yet? Are you joking me?” Scott scoffed. “What happened to the Chris who met a girl, talked her up and got her number in less than two minutes?”

He rolled his eyes, murmuring, “Trust me, that Chris is long gone.”

“Why do you say that? Are you not wanting to jump into anything because you’re going to be so busy coming up?”

“No, it’s not really that…I don’t know, I think, it’s kind of what I talked through with you a few times last year. The pandemic really made me look at things differently,” he admitted, narrowing his eyes as he merged onto the highway. The downtime during quarantine definitely was much-appreciated, but he’d also found himself longing for a chance to have a partner, have someone to share his life with, and to have the chance to create something together. “I thought back a lot to my relationship with Jenny and I feel like I tried to make that happen.”

“Because you did,” Scott’s voice was plain as he affirmed Chris’ thought.

“I know,” Chris agreed, sighing. “I think I wanted to get married and have a family so badly that then when I was so surprised by how much I liked Jenny, I just figured that must be it and I tried to force the pieces together… but I don’t want to do that again.”

“You don’t need a repeat of that mess.”

“That’s for damn sure,” he replied, then shrugged to himself as he stared out the windshield of his car. “I just want to let what happens, happen. If it’s right, it’ll work out.”

Scott was quiet for several moments, taking in Chris’ words as Chris drove on the highway towards Laurel Canyon. Finally, his younger brother quietly said, “Quarantine really did change you, man.”

“Hopefully for the better,” Chris said, smirking at Scott’s outburst of laughter.

“Still waiting on the verdict on that one,” his brother told him, Chris smirking at the cheap shot.

“That may be true,” he admitted, leaning back against his seat as he slowed to a stop in traffic.

“Seriously though, I’m proud of you bro. You’ve come a long way in the relationship department,” Scott surprised him, his voice nothing but complimentary.

Chris smiled to himself, knowing he’d felt the same whenever his thoughts returned to this place over the past year. “I’m ready to just let things happen naturally,” he admitted, pausing a bit before he added, “But I really hope it does with Nat, that’s something about her that’s just… really special.”

He could practically hear Scott smiling from the other end of the phone but then got distracted by the lengthy and comical story that Scott launched into, keeping him laughing until he was pulling into the garage of his home. Chris said goodnight to his brother before climbing out of his car and stepped inside the house where his happy dog was bouncing around his feet almost instantly.

Chris took his time greeting Dodger with his own excitement while he scratched his chin and planted a kiss on top of his head, asking him, “You ready to go outside? Do you want to go run around? C’mon bubba.”

Understanding his direction, Dodger ran to the back door where he pressed the nose against the glass until Chris let him out. He watched as he took off like a rocket, running around to get some of his energy out but his thoughts, while focused on Dodger, were also lingering in the emotions surrounding Nat, leading him to slip his phone out of his pocket and open his texts, sending, ‘You better not cheat on me by finishing that puzzle without me.’

His eyes found Dodger again, keeping a careful eye on the dog as he moved about the yard, sniffing the grass. It kept his focus just until his phone vibrated in his hand, his eyes flying to the device to read Nat’s reply.

‘Are we sure that’s cheating? We’re not puzzle partners, are we?’

He let out a sharp laugh, pausing as Dodger’s ears perked up at the sound and he came trotting over. Leading Dodger to the sliding glass doors and inside the house, he typed back, ‘We are now.’

‘I don’t know… this seems like a big step in our relationship.’

He smirked, enjoying the banter and tension as he sent, ‘I’m ready for the commitment if you are.’

‘Alright, puzzle partners it is.’

Chris couldn’t help but smile as he looked at his phone, feeling that same excited feeling inside his stomach that he did everytime he interacted with Nat. He didn’t want to rush into something, ruining a relationship by diving in head first or making something happen that wasn’t there, but at the same time he knew there was something about Nat that he wasn’t going to let slip through his fingers so easily. And although it’d be worth it in the end to let things happen naturally, he knew without a doubt that the wait would test every ounce of him.

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donutloverxo · 4 years ago

Text

Too big to handle

Written for @imdarkinme . Dividers by @firefly-graphics

Please note that my stories are not to be stolen or reposted on any other site. Reblogs and welcome and much appreciated. This blog and this story is 18+. Do not read, follow or interact if you are not 18+. Please🙏🙏

Summary - Steve's cock is too big for your pussy.

Warnings - smut(m/f), daddy kink, maybe ddlg but not really, readers a bit naive, size kink, praise kink, cum play.

Pairing - Steve x reader Word count - 1.4k

"Hm..." you sighed dreamily, in awe of just how amazingly the jeans you got your daddy for valentines suits him. He looked hot even while he was doing the dishes.

He looks over his shoulder to you, his eyebrows pinched together but then smiles upon seeing you openly oggling him, "Like what you see, doll?"

"Um, what? I wasn't doing anything!!" you yelled when you realised you had been caught red handed.

"Relax, honey," he teased, booping your nose with his finger, "If you want something, all you have to do is ask for it."

"Um... I do want something..."

"Uh-huh, and what is that," he said, crossing his hands over his chest, the veins in his biceps popping which made you salivate even more so.

"I thought..." you looked up at him with your sweet doe eyes, jutting your lips out and making a face he would never say no to, "maybe we could go all the way? I know you would've liked to wait, being from the forties and all, but I don't think I have it in me to..."

He cleared his throat, a light blush dusting his cheeks as he stammered over his words, "Is that what you want?"

"If you'd like to as well then yes."

"Believe me, doll, there is nothing in this world I'd like more," he groaned. "I didn't ask because I didn't want you to think that it was the only thing I was after."

"I'd never think that, daddy, I know you love me," standing on your tippy toes, and craning your neck, and yet you still couldn't quite reach him because he was just so freaking tall, he smirked at you and met you halfway to peck your lips.

"Of course I do, and don't you ever forget that."

"Can we get the lights?" you asked, just a bit apprehensive, as he kissed you all over your bare thighs.

"Why?" he wanted to know as he propped his chin up on your thigh.

"I..." You didn't have a good enough answer. You had seen him once while he was changing out of his combat suit after he got shot, you knew what a perfect specimen he was, you on the other hand were anything but perfect. "I don't know... it's just that'll make me more comfortable."

"You know I'd do anything to make you comfortable right, doll?" he asked as you nodded. "And I don't mind getting the lights. But I want to see you, all of you, I want to look into your eyes while I make love to you and make you mine."

"That's silly, daddy," you giggled, "I'm already yours."

"That you are," he repeated as he sucked a spot into the inside of your thigh, a bit too close to your panty clad core.

"Mm.. okay... I trust you..." And you'd do anything to make him happy.

"You have no idea how much that means to me, doll," he rolled your panties down your thighs and your legs.

The way he stared at your core would've made you just a little uncomfortable if he wasn't saying the sweet things to you while his fingers toyed with your intimate lips.

"You have such a pretty pussy, baby. I could look at it all day long. Would you let me draw it?" he looked up at you, tearing his eyes away from your gorgeous cunt so he could get an answer from you.

"Yes, of course..." you moaned, clenching around him as he added two more fingers, massaging your walls and pumping them in and out of you.

He hovered over you, "Your pussy looks so tiny, baby, it's so fucking tight, I don't know if I'll last, I gotta prepare you."

You couldn't believe you even thought of keeping the lights off, to miss out on looking at the way Steve looked at you, as if you were the most precious thing in the.

You also would've missed out on seeing his perfect pecs, your hands moving of their own accord to touch his flesh, pink nipples pebbling under your palm.

You dug your nails into his biceps, drawing out blood as you could feel your climax approaching but you held on, you only wanted to come around him, "Will you please put it in me, daddy?" you blinked up at him.

"Alright, honey, I think you're ready," he said as he pulled his fingers out of you, sitting back on his thighs he pushed your knees apart so he could look at you some more, you were swollen and looked about ready for him, two of his fingers parting your vaginal lips so he could admire your arousal seeping out of you, "Fucking perfect."

You could feel your face heating up at his praise, watching him through your hooded eyes and waiting for him to penetrate you and claim you, until that caught your eye.

"Holy shit!" your eyes nearly popping out of their sockets upon seeing what looked like was his monster cock. "How is that so big?!" you yelled.

"What?" he looked down at his cock, standing tall and proud against his abs.

"Steve, I've seen you naked... once... I didn't mean to, but I couldn't look away either..." you tried to explain, getting more and more flustered, "And that," pointing at his cock, "wasn't nearly as big as it looks now."

"Alright, so sweetheart, when a man sees the person he loves naked his manhood grows bigger and..."

"Steve! Oh my god I knew that! But I didn't know that could, literally double in size..."

"Uh... yeah. Mine does, ever since the serum."

You nodded. Before you thought he was big, bigger than anyone you had ever seen, but now... you weren't sure you could even wrap your hand around him.

"Do you want to stop?"

You shook your head, "No, I wanna keep going. I'll fit it in me no matter what, I promise."

He nodded, pushing his tip against your opening, paying close attention to your face to make sure you were okay, but you told him to keep going. He lost track of you, of everything around him, you were so damn tight and so good around him and under him, he stopped when he heard you sobbing.

"No... babygirl," he cooed hovering over you again and propping himself up on his elbows he kissed your tears away.

"It's too big..." you sniffled, ashamed of not doing literally the only thing you were supposed to do.

"That's okay, honey. I'll just stop," he said as he pulled out of you.

He looked down at his cock, which was flushed an angry red, "That looks painful," you rubbed your nose with the back of your hand.

"It is a little... but it'll go away in a bit."

"I want to make you feel good," you whined.

"You make me feel good just by existing. But... I guess there is something you can do..." he smirked, circling his palm around your wrist and bringing your hand closer to his length, "Come on, touch it, don't be so afraid, doll, it's not gonna eat you."

"Mm... okay," you held onto his length, which felt thicker, you could barely wrap your hand around him, you started pumping him in your hand, "Is this okay?" you asked him as you looked up at him.

"More than okay, honey here," he situated his cock right over your pussy, moaning out your name and telling you to keep going as his ejaculate painted your vulva.

You couldn't exactly see it, but you could feel it's warmth on your skin and you were surprised with just how much of it there was. "Can I have a taste please?" You asked after he was done.

His chest was heaving, golden strands kissing his sweaty forehead, "Since you said please," he said, collected some of your slick mixed with his on his fingers and letting you suck on them.

"It's yummy, daddy," you moaned around his digits.

"Don't worry, doll, next time I'll come in your mouth. And you'll be a good girl and swallow all of it."

You nodded, laying back on the mattress and making grabby hands at him to ask him to cuddle you. He only shook his head and chuckled at you.

"You didn't think we were done, did you?" he said as he hoisted your hips up, closer to his mouth, his tongue licking a strip up your slit as he kept looking at you, "I'll have to return the favor."

#steve rogers x reader #chris evans x reader #steve x reader #captain america x reader #steve rogers x you #avengers x reader #marvel x reader #chris evans x you #chris evans x y/n #donutloverxo writes

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mypoisonedvine · 4 years ago

Text

Seeing Red | bodyguard!Bucky Barnes x actress!reader (part 9 - FINALE)

(part 1) (part 2) (part 3) (part 4) (part 5) (part 6) (part 7) (part 8)

series summary: bucky used to brag that he didn’t have a celebrity crush, or really care about famous people at all, which is what made him the perfect person to start working for a celebrity like yourself. except, of course, it’s just his luck that he’d fall for you.

word count: 7.2k

warnings: smut (oral f receiving), semi-public sex (in a parked car) angst, arguments, implied smut, sappiness, time skips, some alcohol consumption here and there, lots of talking about issues including bucky's ptsd, I really have no idea how to warn for this but IT’S THE END SO STRAP IN FOLKS

Since that night, it had been like a stand-off in a Western movie, none of you saying anything because you had no idea what to say. Whenever he tried to start the conversation, you brushed him off.

You took a cab home from the event. He slept in his own room for the first time in months.

Finally, suddenly, you were ready to talk about it nearly 30 hours later, knocking on the guest room door and entering to find Bucky on his bed, re-reading Flowers for Algernon. He sat up quickly and shut it, setting it aside. “Hey,” he greeted softly, hesitant like you were a deer in a clearing and he was extending a handful of grain in his palm.

“Hey,” you returned, already fighting back your emotions. “I think I’m ready to talk.”

“Okay,” he nodded. “I’m ready to listen.”

“I just… I want to make sure that you understand this is a really big deal.”

He nodded again.

“I had to do a lot of damage control to prevent being banned from all HFPA events— that includes the Golden Globes, you know, I can’t exactly skip those just because my boyfriend went fucking nuts at a party.” And there was the anger again— you had tried to wait until you could be neutral about this but it barely lasted, mainly because you were still embarrassed about the way you’d handled yourself that night. “You’re lucky not many people saw; you’re lucky no reporters were there! Can you imagine if someone had a fucking picture of this? There were cameras everywhere, what the fuck were you thinking?”

“I wasn’t thinking!” he defended. “I saw you with him and he was touching you and I just… I saw red.”

You sighed slowly. “That’s not a good thing. That’s really, really concerning.”

“I know, I agree— you’re right. I need…” he trailed off, taking a breath before starting over. “I need to work on that.”

“Yeah,” you agreed. “I just… I can’t really be a part of that. You need to work on that on your own.”

He stood up instantly, almost looking… afraid? Terrified, really, and heartbroken. “On my own, like what? What does that mean?”

“It means that I think maybe you should go back to your own apartment for a while. I just… need to be alone for a bit.”

“You need to be alone?” he repeated. “Or you need to be away from me?’

“Both.”

His head fell into his hands instantly. "Please don't tell me I fucked this up," he whimpered. "Please don't tell me I ruined this."

"I— I don't know."

"Please, please, please," he sighed, just louder than a whisper, suddenly stepping forward, grabbing your hand and clutching it to his chest. "Look at me," he begged.

You did, hesitantly, fighting everything in you that wanted to cry (and not doing so good of a job at it).

"Please, I lo—"

"Don't," you grimaced. "Don't say that."

"But it's true."

"It doesn't matter!" you yelped, surprising both of you with your volume.

“Are we going to have a chance to talk about this again? Am I going to get a chance to make it up to you?”

“You don’t make it up to me, you fix it. And that takes time.”

He shook his head, looking shocked and confused and completely blindsided which made you feel sick to your stomach. “How long?”

“I don’t know…” you mumbled.

“Am I not going to see you at all, for however long it takes?” he pressed.

“I… that’s sort of the idea.”

He shivered and pulled you into a hug. “Please don’t hate me forever,” he whispered against the top of your head.

“I don’t hate you,” you promised, doing your best not to hug him back even though all you wanted was to wrap yourself around him and feel safe in his arms again.

“Then don’t make me go,” he pleaded as he pulled back, clutching your face. “Let me stay and we can work through this together.”

“That’s not how this works,” you reminded him

“But I don’t know how to be without you,” he explained shakily.

“That’s not really my problem!” you yelped, and he turned away like he’d been slapped, dropping his hands from your face. A long, heavy silence fell between you as you watched him stand there, contemplating.

“If this is my last chance,” he finally spoke softly, barely breaking the silence, “to say everything I want to say…”

“It’s not,” you assured. “We’re going to talk about this again, but you need to go now.”

He nodded, his adam’s apple bobbing with a swallow of nothing. When he looked at you again, you hated how much bluer his eyes looked when they were bloodshot and filled with tears. “Can I kiss you?”

You shook your head. He bit his lip and turned to walk away; you stared at your feet because you couldn’t watch him go.

You heard him grab his backpack, shoving a few things from the drawers into it; he set his key on the table, walked into the open hall, and as soon as you heard the front door open and shut you were plunged into solitude and silence. With a whimper, you crumpled to the floor and cried, the look of betrayal on his face burned into your mind.

It was obvious, to your horror, that he really hadn’t seen it coming; he hadn’t packed his things, or prepared in any way for the conversation going like that. He had been waiting for an olive branch and got a switch to the face instead. You didn’t know anything about working on relationships, repairing broken things… when something went wrong, all you knew how to do was bail.

You knew how to do a new take and say the line right this time. You knew how to take off your eyeliner and start over. You knew how to kick unsuspecting C-listers out of cars because you already got yours. But you didn’t know how to stay, and work, and frankly you were just too scared to try. Last time you tried to make it work, you got burned. And as much as a logical part of you knew that wasn’t Bucky’s fault or responsibility, your heart just couldn’t survive another relationship where you put everything into putting the pieces back together while the other person stood there and watched you just to pull them apart again.

It had to end at some point, right? It was you, it was him… and that’s just how these things go.

He knew it was too good to be true. He knew you were too good for him. Anybody with at least one eyeball and half a brain could see that. But still, he hadn’t been ready to let you go.

Being in his apartment felt like stopping in a ghost town; there might as well have been a tumbleweed rolling through the living room. It was beyond a bachelor pad: it was more like an unfinished work site, considering his ‘couch’ was cinderblocks and a few two-by-fours, and his bed was a mattress on the floor.

One toothbrush. No books. A half-empty shampoo bottle in the shower and some hard water stains he needed to scrub away at some point.

This place didn’t feel like a home, it barely felt like a livable space. It was a three-dimensional homage to how empty his life had been before you, and he realized that was only his own fault.

Then again, this was all his fault.

But still, he had let himself obsess over you, turn you into his whole world and it made him into somebody he didn’t want to be. He had been working so hard to keep you happy, inspired more than anything by his fear to lose you, that he’d forgotten to give you space and now here he was… giving you so much more space than he ever wanted to, or knew how to deal with.

But he wanted to use this, if he could. As much as it was tempting to binge on junk food, drink too much and watch porn for an hour, as much as he wanted to run away from everything he was feeling, he owed it to you and to himself to face it all and learn from it. He wanted to be the man you deserved, if that was even humanly possible; he wanted to be who you used to think he was.

The next week went by in a blur: a blur filled with shitty romcoms, Ben & Jerry’s straight from the carton, and phone calls ignored.

It would all be fine with time, you knew that, but god, it fucking hurt now. It made you want to call him and at least apologize for having sex with him when you knew he wouldn’t have wanted to if he knew you were upset. More time and distance from the situation made you appreciate that it was manipulative, even if it by no means justified the way he grabbed you, or shoving anybody in the first place.

Truth was, you were scared of Bucky long before that happened. You were scared of how strong your feelings were for him; and, in turn, you were scared of how strong his feelings were for you. You felt loved by him, and you didn’t know what to do with that. So you self-destructed.

Just in time to tear you out of your spiralling thoughts, the intercom buzzed from the front gate. You furrowed your brow, wondering who it could be, and got up to check the camera feed.

You couldn’t see the face of the driver, just his arm, but you’d recognize that Rolex on his wrist anywhere.

“What do you want?” you asked coldly, holding down the intercom talk button.

"Let me in," Sam instructed.

"And why should I?"

"Cause if you don't, I'll press charges against your boyfriend."

BEEP BEEP BEEP! the gate announced its opening.

You took the time while he parked his car and walked to the door to throw out the wrappers from all your questionable “meals” (i.e., candy and ramen), change into slightly nicer sweats and splash your face so you looked slightly less dead. Just as you came downstairs from your rushed primping, Sam knocked on the door and you turned off the TV, tossing the remote aside. “It’s open!” you called out.

He turned the knob and stepped in with just one foot, peering around.

“Is the Terminator home?” he asked coyly. “Cause I actually think I’ve been assaulted enough for one week.”

“No, he’s gone. And don’t call him that.”

“What?” he shrugged, finally coming all the way in and letting the door swing shut on its own, taking his shades off and sliding them into the collar of his v-neck shirt. “It’s a compliment, and you really invite the killer robot comparisons when you’re part robot, look like a killer, and act like a thug.”

“He’s sensitive about the arm, okay? It’s one of the reasons he… it’s part of why we waited so long to go public.”

Sam glanced down to beside the door, where three pairs of your shoes were haphazardly lined up while his boots were noticeably absent. “And the fact that he’s moved out? When’s that gonna go public?” He always had an eye for these things, the bastard.

“I… I don’t know,” you sighed. “What do you want, exactly? Because honestly, I really can’t handle you right now.”

“I’m just trying to be a friend,” he explained, stepping closer again as you leaned against the breakfast bar.

“You seemed a lot more than friendly on Saturday,” you reminded him. “God, Sam, why did you have to do that?”

“So it’s my fault, then?” he rolled his eyes.

“No, of course not,” you assured, “but you knew I wasn’t single. I was actually happy… did you even want me back? Or did you just want to fuck with my life?”

“I did want you back, really.” He paused for a moment, more serious than he almost ever got. “I still do.”

You scoffed, looking away. “What happened to just being a friend?”

“That’s not why I’m here, this time. I’m just here to tell you that I’m worried about you.”

You took your weight off the bar and circled it into the kitchen, Sam mirroring you by following around the other side. “Do you want something to drink?” you asked, opening the fridge. He opened his mouth to answer but then leaned in as he stared at your hand where it was right in front of his face gripping the refrigerator’s door handle.

"He did that to you?" Sam pointed to the bruise on your wrist. You let go of the fridge and pulled your sleeve down to cover it again but that was answer enough. "Jesus, babe, this guy's fucking crazy."

"He's not crazy, and don't call me that," you frowned. "I don't think he meant to, really— his prosthetic is powerful and it was in need of a recalibration. He shouldn’t have grabbed me, but, he probably didn’t mean to do it so hard.”

Sam didn’t seem too convinced by that explanation, but didn’t say anything.

“Believe it or don’t, Sam, but either way it’s none of your business,” you frowned.

“Right, I know,” he nodded. “I just want what’s best for you.”

“And that’s you?” you pressed with an incredulous raised brow, opening the fridge again to grab yourself a green juice (because you were, again, trying to look like you had your shit together) and starting to walk away.

“I’ve changed, believe it or not,” he explained as he followed you out of the kitchen again. “Occasionally, people are capable of that.”

“If that’s true, then I owe it to Bucky to wait for him like I said I would,” you shot back. “I told him to leave so we could work on things separately. Not so I could entertain your come-to-Jesus moment.”

“It’s not a ‘come-to-Jesus’ moment, it’s just a ‘give me another chance’ moment,” he corrected as you took a long sip of the juice, “it’s a ‘maybe we ended things too soon’ moment.”

You looked at him in silent judgment as you kept drinking, and the way he was looking at you made you glad the glass bottle was keeping your lips occupied.

“It’s an ‘I’m still in love with you’ moment.”

Before you could stop yourself, you spit the juice right onto him, covering your mouth in shock just a moment too late.

For one of those indefinite moments, you were just staring at each other while you both contemplated that you had said he loved you and you had spat juice onto him.

“Okay, I was prepared to get shot down,” he admitted. “This is… worse.”

“I’m sorry, I’m so sorry,” you rushed, trying not to laugh, “I… I’ll get some paper towels, I can get you a new shirt, but it’ll have to be one of the ones Bucky left behind…”

“Oh god, it’s sticky,” he grimaced, as he tried to peel his shirt from his skin, “can I just use your shower maybe?”

“Yeah, that’s fine,” you nodded, “upstairs and down—”

“I remember where it is,” he reminded you as he stepped past you to make his way to the bathroom. “I knew I should’ve waited to say it until she was done drinking…” you heard him mumble to himself before he disappeared and you heard the bathroom door shut.

But truthfully, it wasn’t really the fact that he said it, or the concept of Sam loving you at all that made you spit out your drink. It was that when he said it, you realized you were in love with Bucky. Which, yes, would’ve been obvious to anyone else but it came as quite a shock to you.

It made you realize that you wanted to make this work. You wanted to be vulnerable, you wanted to try, even if it ended just as badly as it nearly had last week; even if it meant dealing with all the shit that you’d pushed down for so long.

You wanted to have another chance, this time knowing how hard it would be to be without him.

Just as you pondered what to do with that realization, a knock at the door startled you. Who could have made it to the door without buzzing the intercom?

Somebody who has the gate code already, you realized, and your heart sank. You weren’t ready to see him again— specifically, you weren’t ready to be seen by him again. Sure, cleaning up the trash and splashing your face was enough for a guest like Sam, but you had been imagining that when you saw Bucky again you’d be all dolled up looking like you were doing better than ever, like you were thriving without him just to rub it in that you were the best he ever had.

Couldn’t he have just waited a few hours after your realization so you could go to him on your own terms, with your whole speech prepared and everything? As an actress, you were much more comfortable reading lines than improvising.

Another knock made you sigh and set down the half-empty bottle of green juice, running up to the door to answer it.

“Hi,” he greeted soberly when you opened the door.

“Hey,” you nodded back, “listen, now’s not a great time…”

“Listen, I’m not here to cause any problems, or ask you for anything, I just need some of my stuff back,” he explained.

“Okay, it would’ve been better if you had come at another time—”

“I know, I’m not trying to invade your space,” he sighed. “I shouldn’t have used the gate code, I didn’t mean to surprise you, honestly it was just second nature but I realize now I should’ve called first— well, I don’t think you’re taking my calls right now—”

“Bucky, please, we can talk later,” you assured, trying to shut the door.

“Can we?” he sighed. “I mean, will we?”

“Yes, but I’m busy right now,” you explained.

“When?” he asked, voice full of hope. “Soon?”

“I— I don’t know, sure,” you shrugged.

“You’re just saying that to get me to leave,” he realized flatly. “I understand, I don’t blame you— god, I just hate how scared you are of me. I’m everything I never wanted to be. I just wanted to keep you safe and now I can’t even do that, now you think of me as a threat. You should have the gate code changed, if it’ll make you sleep better—”

“I sleep fine, just go and we’ll deal with all of this soon— really, I promise!”

“You promised before and this week without you has been the hardest thing I’ve ever had to do!” he returned, getting more emotional as he gestured with his hands. “I’m not saying this should all go away in a week, there’s so much more I have to do, but… but not being able to see you at all is killing me. And it’s not like I don’t see you, your movies are on every fucking channel, but you know, I don’t get to really see you, talk to you— that’s what I miss, I miss when we would talk for hours.”

“I miss that too,” you agreed, “it’s all going to happen, it’s just that I need you to go right now—”

And of course, Sam picked just the right time to come running down your staircase with only a towel around his waist.

Bucky tensed up as he saw Sam, jaw tightening. "Oh."

You had no idea what would happen. Was Bucky going to attack him again? Would Sam try to hit Bucky? Were you going to drop dead from sheer embarrassment?

Instead, Bucky just sighed a little and looked to the ground, almost laughing though he seemed anything but amused. “You’ve got a funny idea of what ‘being alone’ means,” he sneered.

“Sam was just—” you began to defend.

"No, it’s okay, I see how it is," Bucky informed you quietly, coldly. He didn’t even seem angry anymore, just defeated. "I'll leave. I'm sorry that I… I'm sorry."

And he turned to leave, you reached out and grabbed his arm. "Wait, it's not—"

He shrugged your hand away as he kept walking, forcing you to chase him.

"Don't leave, please— Bucky, I love you too."

He stopped, but didn't turn around yet; you just stood behind him, staring at his back as it rose and fell with a slow breath. When he looked back at you, his eyes were red, brimming with tears and heartbreak. "Don't say things you don't mean."

"I mean it," you promised.

“And what does that mean for us?”

“I… I don’t know,” you admitted.

“I don’t think I’m ready to come back yet. As much as I miss living with you— and as much as my apartment is so gross—”

You giggled a little, glad you could laugh with him again even if just for a second.

“I need more time. I’m not going to subject you to me until I know I can be… stable, again.”

“Okay,” you smiled. “Whatever you need.”

“But maybe we could… go out sometime? Somewhere where there aren’t paparazzi, ideally?”

“Uh, Vermont?” you offered jokingly. “I’ll find somewhere, though. We’ll talk this all out.”

He nodded slowly, swallowing a little. “Okay.”

With obvious hesitance, he leaned in slightly and gave you a kiss on the forehead. You wanted more than anything to get up on your tiptoes and kiss his lips, but it was probably too soon. He smiled down at you slightly before he turned to walk away, and you did the same as you made it back into the house.

“Hey, listen,” you began as you found Sam still waiting in a towel looking completely lost.

“That doesn’t sound like the beginning of good news,” he sighed.

“I’m so glad you were honest with me and I’m still really sorry for spitting on you, and for Bucky shoving you, and for everything awful that went down between us. And some part of me is always gonna love you, but—”

“I know,” he nodded, clearly disappointed but resigned in a peaceful way. “It’s okay. I had my chance, I blew it, and if this Bucky guy has his then I just hope he isn’t taking it for granted.”

You smiled a little. “He’s not.”

“Then I’ll get dressed and go. Please direct me to his favorite shirt, so that I may steal it,” he requested formally, making you laugh, but you weren’t ready to let it go just yet; instead, you stepped forward and pulled him into a hug.

“You’re a good friend, Sam,” you mumbled against his bare chest.

“Yeah, kinda wish I wasn’t though,” he sighed as he hugged you back.

“Kinda wish I’d made you get dressed before hugging you,” you admitted, the awkwardness of his nudity finally catching up with you.

“Yeah…” he agreed in a whispered sigh.

His palms were actually sweaty; well, at least one of them was. He hadn’t been this worked up about a date since high school.

But there was so much more riding on that now than there was then. If he blew this, you probably would dump him for good, and he’d become ‘that guy Y/N Y/L/N dated for a minute’ to the rest of the world.

And there was so much more to him than that— he was learning to really let that shine after three weeks of therapy on Mondays and Thursdays— and so much more to his relationship with you, but it would still be pretty humiliating. More importantly, he would be heartbroken if he never got a chance to hold you again, kiss you again, tell you he loved you not during a fight…

His eyes glanced to the door instinctively when someone stepped in, but it still wasn’t you. He checked his watch and closed his eyes: it was still a few minutes early, you probably wouldn’t be here until 6:30, since that was when you’d agreed to meet when you discussed all this over text. But the length of time between 6:27 and 6:30 just seemed to keep getting longer and longer.

When you finally walked in, it was like one of those movie moments where everything slowed down, the ambient noise and background music faded away, and all he could see was you. If this was it, at least he got to see you like this one last time.

He waved you over, watching you walk closer and feeling his heart race as you pulled him into a hug.

“I missed you,” he blurted out right away.

“Missed you too,” you mumbled back, pulling from the embrace as he moved to pull out your chair for you.

“So,” he began as he sat down, “do you… want me to go first? Or do you want to go first?”

“I love you,” you said instantly, and he couldn’t fight a wide smile.

“I love you too,” he whispered back.

“Now that that’s out of the way,” you grinned, “I think you should go first.”

“Well, now that you say that suddenly I forget everything I’ve been practicing in the mirror all day,” he chuckled. “I already told you I’ve been in therapy, and they finally got me on stuff for my PTSD… it feels weird to say it, to talk about it like I really have it… but I do, and I’m working on not being ashamed of that. What I am ashamed of is the way I treated you that day, how I let my anger get the best of me and how I hurt you when you’re the most important person in my life. You didn’t deserve that. And if I haven’t said it enough, I’m truly sorry.”

“I know,” you nodded, “thank you. I’m glad you’re getting help… I don’t want to see you like that for your own sake, too.”

“Just because you don’t hate me doesn’t mean you have to forgive me. And just because you forgive me doesn’t mean you have to take me back,” he reminded you softly.

“But I do forgive you, and I do want you back,” you promised. “And I want to apologize, too, for the things I did wrong… obviously it’s basically impossible for me to hurt you physically, you’re so much stronger than I am, but I hurt you with how I handled some things and I regret that.”

“It did hurt, but I still reacted poorly at basically every turn. I shouldn’t have gotten jealous of Sam in the first place, if you and him have something going on then that’s none of my business—”

“Of course it’s your business, Bucky, you’re my boyfriend!” you laughed. “You don’t need to be jumping for joy when I talk to my ex, you just need to not be that aggressive about it.”

“Am I your boyfriend?” he asked sheepishly. “Is he your ex?”

"When you came over the other day, and he was there… nothing happened, really. He came over, I told him I didn't want to be anything more than friends, he asked to use my shower… I don't know how to prove it to you—"

"You don't have to," he shook his head. "If you say nothing happened, then nothing happened."

“I mean, we hugged,” you remembered. “And he took your Fleetwood Mac shirt.”

“He what?” Bucky yelped, but then calmed himself down immediately. “Whatever, it’s fine, the point is that I have a lot of shit I still need to work on. Because the truth is, you’re not mine—”

“No, I—”

“Really, you’re not. You’re your own person. That’s what made me fall in love with you in the first place, I love that you’re independent and strong and… maybe a little crazy, but you’re exactly who you need to be. You don’t belong to me.”

“I don’t mind belonging to you as long as it’s fair, Bucky; as long as we belong to each other.”

“Sweetheart, you always had me,” he laughed. “From day one.”

“Then let’s figure your shit out. Believe it or not, I’ve got shit too… commitment issues, abandonment issues, daddy issues—”

“Ooh, I have that one too!” he beamed, making you laugh. “You know, when I was talking to my therapist, she had me do this thing where I talked about my hopes and stuff and, I don’t know, maybe it’s dumb but I wanted us to do that. I want to know what you’re hoping for for this.”

“Okay,” you nodded, “well, I’m hoping that you’ll move back in soon but not right away, maybe in a few months? I want us to get better at being apart, it’ll come in handy when I have to go to far off places for filming and stuff.”

“Totally with you,” he agreed, “might have to start buying some real furniture for my place though.”

“What about you?” you prompted.

“I’m hoping that you still think I'm cute enough to put up with some of my crap," he smirked, "if not all of it."

"Definitely," you grinned.

“I’m hoping that in the future, if you’re upset, you’ll tell me and we can work it out, and then have make-up sex," he added.

“Deal,” you chuckled.

“And, if I’m being honest,” he continued, leaning in closer and lowering his voice, “I’m hoping that I can take you home tonight.”

It was so simple, but it made a shiver run down your spine. This distance had caused more than just your heart to grow fonder, and you were craving his touch more than ever. “Where’s home?” you asked coyly.

“It’s wherever you wanna go,” he purred. “Your place, my place, the back of your car—”

“That one,” you nodded eagerly, “definitely that one.”

You wanted to go right then and there but he made you sit through the whole dinner, with all the trappings of wining and dining, though for you it sometimes felt more like whining and dying because you needed him so bad you couldn't think. But he stayed patient, keeping up the conversation, asking more about a new project you were tentatively linked with, telling you more about the newest improvements to his prosthetic.

He picked up the check, which was absurd to you but he insisted, and escorted you to your car as if his intentions were just gentlemanliness even though you knew it was far worse than that.

He (gently) pinned you up against the side of the car, kissing you slowly, making you melt like it was no effort for him at all. As his lips made their way to your ear, he whispered to you darkly, "get in the back and spread your legs for me."

You were sure you'd never obeyed an instruction so fast, hopping in and happily watching him climb in behind you. He instantly knelt down between your spread legs, holding you by your thighs as he pushed your dress up, and you were already lifting your hips up to let him pull your panties down to your ankles.

"So eager," he whispered happily, kissing his way up one of your legs and never breaking his gaze away from yours. Your mouth fell slack as you watched him get higher and higher, closer to where you were already dripping with need. "Been wanting to do this since that night, however many months ago, where I had to watch somebody else do this to you," he admitted with a grin that nipped at your inner thighs. "I know I've tasted you a thousand times since then, but I wanted to do it here."

There was a lot you could say to that, but it was all lost to a gasp as he licked one long, thin stripe right across your entrance and over your clit. Already you were shaking and grabbing his hair— he'd grown it out just enough that you could really dig your fingers into it, but even so he kept his teasing pace.

He kept going, that slow and torturous cycle where just as your clit got some much-needed attention, he started back over at your leaking opening again.

"The fuck are you doing down there, trying to figure how many licks it takes to get to the center of a tootsie pop?" you finally groaned, making him chuckle at how demanding you'd become.

"I'm just making sure I do this right," he dismissed. "Want more, baby?"

"Please," you shuddered. "Need your tongue inside me."

He grinned and put you out of your misery, really latching his lips onto you now as he pushed his tongue inside and curled it against your g-spot. It was enough to make your back arch dramatically and your fingers clench on his hair, a little growl echoing out of his mouth and into your body in response.

Your legs were accidentally clamping down on his head each time he sucked on your clit, but he didn't seem to mind, if anything it egged him on.

"C-close, so close," you chanted our warning as his hands tightened on your thighs he gave wide laps to your throbbing button.

"Say you love me baby," he mumbled his demand against your skin.

"Bucky, yes, I love you," you whimpered. "Love you so much, fuck, I'm gonna come…"

He nodded as he wrapped his lips around your clit and kept sucking, harder than ever, until your whole body was literally quaking and you weren't sure if you had closed your eyes or if your vision just went black for a second. As if that weren't enough, he kept going until you had to push him off of you by his forehead, shivering and catching your breath as aftershocks rocked your body.

"You're so amazing," he groaned huskily as he sat up and pulled you into a rough kiss, the taste of your pleasure coating your tongue as it tangled with his. Just as you were about to reach down and attempt to operate his belt buckle with your tingling fingers, he pulled back from the kiss a moment too soon. "And now you get to drive yourself home," he grinned, patting you on the cheek reassuringly.

"What? That's it?!" you squawked.

"You just came so hard you nearly blacked out and you're asking me if that's it?" he smirked incredulously.

"I just thought you would want to, you know… go all the way," you explained, cringing at the immature phrase.

"Hey, I'm a gentleman, and this is still our first date," he reminded you.

"But aren't you, you know…?"

"Oh, I am," he nodded quickly, leaning in to bite at your neck. "Don't worry about me, princess, I can take care of myself." He chuckled at your whimper and pulled back to look right into your eyes. "But it's not about me, is it? You want my cock all for yourself, don't you?"

You nodded, making him giggle sweetly.

"Well, you're just gonna have to wait," he cooed, poking the tip of your nose with his finger and laughing harder at your needy whine. "We'll go out again next weekend and maybe if it goes well, it'll lead to something more, alright?"

"Okay," you sighed, "I can wait a week. I think."

He smiled and kissed you again, helping you pull your panties back up and rubbing your thigh appreciatively. "Goodnight," he whispered against your lips, slipping out of the car and shutting the door behind him.

You sighed and let your head fall back against the seat, watching out the window as he walked back to his bike. You hated to see him go, but you did love watching him walk away.

two years later…

“Will the Six Million Dollar Man be joining us?” Sam asked with a smirk as he glanced to the door of the bowling alley, checking to see if anyone had walked in.

“When he gets off of work,” you promised.

“Why do you call him that?” Natasha asked Sam innocently.

“You’ll see,” Sam promised, kissing his girlfriend on the cheek, but you figured there was a pretty good chance she wouldn't get the reference anyway.

Right on cue, Bucky appeared in the doorway and you and Sam waved him to the correct lane. “Hey guys,” he greeted, “hey babe,” he pulled you into a quick kiss. “And happy birthday, Sam.”

“Shh, keep it down, we don’t want any Hollywood people to find out that I’m aging,” Sam joked. “Are you gonna join the game or just observe?”

“I’ll join, if it’s not too late,” Bucky decided.

“Since when do you bowl?” you asked him, raising an eyebrow.

“Since I got the prosthetic recalibrated to throw the perfect strike every time,” he winked.

Beers and turns went pretty quickly after that, light conversation interspersed in between, until the more raucous parts of the evening died down and you left Bucky for a moment to join Sam at the bar.

Sam nodded to acknowledge you as you leaned beside him, and you ordered yourself one more drink before you called it a night.

“So, Natasha,” you started the conversation, watching the way Sam couldn’t hide his smile. “She’s great.”

“Yeah, she’s really something,” he agreed. “I wanted you guys to meet her sooner, but you were gone filming for so long and all.”

“Don’t fuck this one up, Sam,” you threatened.

“I’m trying not to!” he defended, before looking around like he was trying to make sure no one was looking. As you furrowed your brow and wondered what he was up to, he pulled out his phone from his jacket pocket and showed you a picture: a ring, with a massive diamond and accents of citrine.

“Holy shit…” you sighed, pulling the phone closer to get a better look.

“Had it custom made, I’m gonna pick it up tomorrow,” he explained, putting the phone away. “I don’t even know how I’m gonna ask her yet… I just know I need to snag this one before she slips through my fingers.”

“You’re really like a whole new man,” you realized aloud.

“I’m telling you, this girl… she really changed everything for me,” he sighed wistfully, and you nodded because you knew what that was like.

“I knew you just needed a good woman to straighten you out, Wilson,” you joked, patting him on the shoulder, “my only mistake was ever thinking it was me.”

“If it makes you feel any better, I thought it was you, too,” he smiled softly. “I really loved you, even when I was stepping out on you… and I think I needed to love you, and to lose you, to be here now. So, thank you.”

“Uh, you’re welcome, I guess,” you laughed a little, taking a slow sip of your drink.

“And if she says yes, I’m gonna need all the marriage advice you have to offer,” he bargained.

“I mean, we’ve only been married for a month,” you chuckled, “I don’t think we’re far enough into it to really provide significant guidance.”

“And you’ve already gone through so much together. Is he doing alright? You know, his nightmares and stuff…”

You glanced over and where Bucky and Natasha were chatting, admiring how at ease he looked; he usually had a harder time with new people. “Yeah, it’s been a lot better, he’s on new meds… how did you know about that?”

“He talks to me sometimes,” Sam admitted. “And as someone who has played a PTSD-striken veteran in not one, but two major motion pictures, I’m sort of an expert,” he winked, but then got serious again. “I would’ve asked him how he was doing myself but he wouldn’t let me ask him personal stuff on my birthday.”

“I bet he’d let you ask him for his opinion on the ring you just showed me.”

“Um, why would I want his opinion when he bought you that?” he grimaced, pointing at the ring on your finger. “I mean, sapphires? Really?”

“Cut it out,” you laughed, shoving him on the shoulder.

“Okay, fine,” he relented.

“Are you coming to my premiere tomorrow, by the way?” you asked. “I have it on good authority you were invited, since I demanded it.”

“Yeah, I’ll be there,” he nodded, “Nat really wants to go, too. She’s a big fan of your work.”

“Well, tell her she was great in that one about the missing girl,” you replied.

“I’ll be sure to tell her exactly that.”

“We should head home, you know how early premiere prep starts,” you sighed with an exhausted roll of your eyes, finishing the last of your drink before grabbing Sam on the shoulder. “Good luck with however you decide to pop the question with Nat. Let me know if you need anything.”

He nodded and let you go, and once you got Bucky’s attention and said goodbye to Nat, the two of you made your way out back to the car.

“I’m glad you and Sam get along,” you reminded him as you squeezed his hand.

“What gives you that impression?” he scoffed.

You shook your head and smiled, letting him walk you to the car in silence.

Less than 24 hours later, you held his hand in just the same way as you sat beside each other in the screening auditorium, watching your latest film fade to black and hearing the crowd at the premiere— mostly cast, crew, and critics— erupt into applause.

"I have a little surprise for you," you whispered in his ear as the credits began to flash.

"I am not gonna let you blow me in this crowded theater," he instantly scolded.

"No, not that," you giggled, although you secretly wondered how much less crowded the theater would have to be for him to let you try it. "Just wait until my name comes up."

Written and Directed by Hope Van Dyne

A Paramount Pictures Film

In Association with Europa

And then there it was, in big white letters, just as much of a trip to see as the first time you saw your name on the big screen. But something very important had changed.

Y/N Y/L/N-Barnes

Everyone at the screening was clapping and cheering, but you were so focused on him that his whisper was the only thing you heard. "Sweetheart," he gasped, and you smiled wide. "You didn't have to—"

"I wanted to."

"It's just a stage name, if you want to keep it the same—"

"Buck, really. I want your name there with mine."

"But your credits…" he protested, though the break in his voice made it clear he was tearing up. "You're an actress and you've established your career already and it's so important to you—"

"Hey," you soothed, reaching up to brush your hand over his cheek, forcing him to look at you. "Your wife is the most important thing I've ever been."

#bucky barnes x reader #bodyguard!bucky barnes x reader #bucky barnes bodyguard au

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katsukikitten · 5 years ago

Text

Wholesome Frat AU, Clearly aged up, college au, main characters are Bakugou, Kirishima, Denki, Sero, Jiro, Mina, and of course you my dear reader. Sexual themes, mentions of drugs and booze through out.

AHEM

Chapter 1

Denki lies upside down off his bed, staring at his phone when another invite to a party comes through. It's from a classmate he shares notes with and one of the few non toxic dudes on campus. A smile forms on his face, his fingers ready to fly across the screen to confirm his Friday night to be golden and one to remember.

Or maybe wish to remember as alcohol and maybe some weed numb his senses.

But then the location comes through, a frat house that's notorious for ignorance and low key rape culture. He turns it down claiming to study and sighs. Staring at his shared four walls from the top bunk.

"What's going on with you? No one wants you to keep their bed warm tonight?" Sero teases passing him up a beer before starting the next round of his game. Preferring to get buzzed and troll in Apex lobbies than find somewhere to be tonight.

Their phones buzz at the same time, Kirishima coming through on the group chat.

Big Red 🦈 : Any plans tonight boys?

Boomboi 💣 : Fuck off, busy.

Tape dispenser 🎞 : Apex

Zaptos ⚡: got invited to a party but location is sus af. You bro?

Big Red 🦈 : Yikes 😬 Keepin some ladies safe. Don't like the scene here…

Tape dispenser 🎞 : Same

Zaptos ⚡: Same

Boomboi 💣: FUCK OFF!

Denki and Sero both smirk at their phones before moving on with their Friday night with small talk of Instagram stories and received risque snapchats. As the beer fridge gets dwindles their thoughts seem to grow.

"Okay, listen. Here me out!" Denki says as if Sero would ever come off defensive. He finishes his eighth beer before continuing.

"What if we started our own frat? Like...like a fucking wholesome one."

"Dude not only does that sound impossible but what would we call ourselves?" Sero chuckles nursing his seventh beer. Denki pauses for a moment, trying to think of something, anything great.

"Alpha Kappa Wholesome." He smiles, "Yea that's it!"

Sero laughs from his bottom bunk earning an angry faced Denki to put half of his body over the side of his bed.

"I'm serious man! We could kick out whoever doesn't match our values. This college is supposed to be about making 'lasting connections' with fellow heroes! How are we supposed to do it when we are cooped up in our tiny dorm!" He gestures to their cramped room. A set of bunk beds and desks with their TV and shared dresser on the far wall. Sero looks around, this sure as hell wasn't like the dorms at UA that's for sure.

"Okay well two people isn't enough for a frat, man." Sero lets the dream die before it can bloom, running a hand through his raven hair. Denki scrunches up his face before he remembers where his crush stays. It's as if a light bulb lit up atop his upside down head. He jolts himself falling from the top bunk crashing into the empty beer bottle. They clink in protest but thankfully non break, just roll beneath the bottom bunk.

"But there is a sorority of only four and we have four friends in our group!"

Denki decides now is a good time to face time them. Kirishima answers first with a shout that he's gonna step outside, the roaring party and flashing lights die behind the shutting door while Bakugou is illuminated by the light of his screen glaring into the camera while a meek looking girl hides.

"This better be fucking good." Bakugou growls.

After an hour and a half of screaming Denki finally convinces Bakugou that sharing a house with the three of them as opposed to a rando was a much better idea. Reminding him that he had done it for three years in highschool surely he could last two more. He agrees but refuses to help argue with the dean meanwhile Kirishima is GLOWING with excitement over the idea formulating with his sober mind the best way to handle the notorious harsh Dean.

It takes petitions, several meetings and almost til the spring break to come down to this, the final meeting. Bakugou, who has attended every meeting and true to his word has said nothing. Denki nervous as a sinner in church, Sero who's sweating bullets and Kirishima all sit in the room with the board, treasury and the Dean in a final meeting of sorts.

Kirishima gulps and before he can explain the benefits the frat will have to offer the Dean stops him with a simple show of his hand. Taking a report from the secretary of treasury to look over, he just needed the monetary excuse to back up his favorite word.

"No." He clears his throat, "Unfortunately funds are too low to be able to support another fraternity." The Dean leaves it at that not even bothering to offer they join something preexisting.

Three of the four men accept defeat, mentally communicating that they did a good job trying. But the fourth man dreamed of his own room, of his own space to do as he pleased. And all without threat of being charged with murder. Although the fourth man would never admit that the reason he spoke up wasn't totally about the room, it was the look of defeat, anguish on his friends faces that had the room heating up a degree or two and smelling heavily of boiling sugar.

"Oi, toupee." The hot head let's his seat fall back to all fours, fixing the Dean a withering look, "You said something about not enough money huh?"

The Dean swallows thickly carefully thinking out his next sentence.

"Why, Yes its…." Bakugou interrupts before the Dean can even finish his thought.

"Pretty sure I'm the reason this campus is gonna be swarming with fucking no name extras next year." Katsuki's smile widens as his hand pops, "If you deny this request with the money I'm making you then I'll participate in the university sports festival with another college's across my fucking chest."

The Dean visibly sweats, Bakugou really was a hard student to land. His brash attitude and unapologetic behavior was popular among the younger generation bringing with it an influx of applicants and donations. It hadn't even been 24 hours since his announcement did it crash the admin and donation site. He panics, not even sure if there is any real estate available on or around campus in order for him to legally allow this fraternity to flourish. As if reading his mind the secretary of grounds offers him a file, an old run down home within a decent walking distance of the main campus. The Dean exhales the breath he didn't realize he was holding.

"Let's not act so rash. It has just come to my attention that we have some extra funding to be able to purchase a place for you all…" He looks over the file, he hopes this is enough to placate the hot head, "But it will need some old fashioned sweat equity, if we can secure it. The town has been kind enough to offer us first dibs to real estate within a certain radius of campus and if they like our offer you hardworking men will have your 'Alpha Kappa Wholesome home."

"They better like your offer." Is all Bakugou says before standing, "We get the keys in a month, got it?"

He doesn't give the Dean time to rebuttal, he just leaves while the other shocked three follow suit. It isn't until they are in the courtyard does their excitement hit them all at once.

"HOLY SHIT BAKUBRO ALWAYS COMING IN ON THE FUCKING KLUTCH!" Denki shouts, tackling Bakugou into a hug, Sero and then Kirishima wrap their arms around the yelling hot head who threatens to blow them up.

"I owe you a fucking drink!" Kirishima shouts lifting the group and twirling them

"OI OI OI SHITTY HAIR PUT ME DOWN!"

After that promised drink and a month of waiting the four musketeers stand before their new home. The house is trashed, easily a short sale of a foreclosure as the rent went higher but their wages stayed low. The amount of work to make this place semi decent was going to be astronomical at best.

Bakugou is thoroughly unimpressed, scoffing as Denki runs up the porch. The vision is clear in the electric blonde's head. The massive porch is clean, with a swing and some chairs, string lights hanging from the wooden ceiling while the half wrapped around, second story porch is draped in endless artificial star light cloaking the house in cozy warmth.

Dneki opens the front door and plume of dust rushes out around him, the other two follow suit. Taking the steps two at a time as they rush into the house. Harsh garnet stares after them before glancing at their luggage. He decides to leave it all stepping inside.

Their imaginations run rampant as they stand beneath the large archway to the main living room while Bakugou begins to second guess opening his mouth. That or getting more money from the Dean. Before displeasure can leave the hot head his friends turn to face him, their eyes shining and smiles stretched wide, wide enough it begins to hurt Bakugou's own cheeks. They encourage him to step into the home more, telling him what will go where. For a moment his smile is soft, tender as he looks at these three idiots seeing the bright side of everything before he steels back into his normal self.

"Oi! Quick acting all googly eyed. We've got a lot of work to do and a lot of fucking money to raise."

The four friends spend majority of their spring term picking rooms and doing basic cleaning. Bringing only one of the two full bathrooms up to par, trying their best to keep up with the old big house. Even after all of them picked their rooms there were still three bedrooms and a den with a door left. They brain stormed adding recruits but Bakugou shot the idea down despite Sero being elected the president of the frat.

Spring boils into summer, bringing with it the promise of cold hard cash. Bake sales and lunch deals thanks to Bakugou's cooking skills brought in a large amount of income, so did the odd jobs Kirishima, Denki, and Sero found themselves doing. Still they find themselves short.

"Shirtless carwash!" Denki announces earning a glare from Bakugou. Kirishima pipes up before the idea is blasted sky high.

"Think of the money man. The community around here is soccer mom's and freshly graduated college kids and I don't know about yall but when I go for a run or hit up the corner store after a good run I'm being stared at."

"That's a valid point Bakugou. I've seen how they flock to you for baked goods, they've been staring at your arms and eyes man." Sero adds voting yes to the idea making it three to one.

Just as Kirishima said, woman and even some men, flock to the area for a car wash. Some even coming back twice in one day! The cash flow is good but still a bit lacking. Denki wipes the sweat from his brow as he wonders how they will get enough to be able to get decent light fixtures and a working fridge in the dorm. Let alone anything aside from a blown up mattress and folding chairs in the living room. He scrolls through his social media on his break and comes across the miracle he has been asking for.

A lovely summer picture of four women in bikinis, three of them his housemates have lived with before. Mina Ashido, Jiro Kyoka, Ochako Uraraka, and then there is the new woman, you.

But what makes the picture that much sweeter isn't even the content itself, no it's that gorgeous caption just beneath it.

"BASIC BITCH CAR WASH! Help us raise money for an apartment so our sorority doesn't get disbanded!"

An idea formulates in the electric blondes head so quickly he thinks sparks fly from his ears. A dangerous smile forms on Denki Kaminari's lips.

#bakugo x reader #bakugou x reader #bnha x reader #bakugou katsuki #bnha au #bnha college au #bnha wholesome frat au

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