#not sure if the triggers are needed but I added them anyways | Explore Tumblr Posts and Blogs

buckymorelikefuckme · 20 days

Text

and baby makes three

(the reboot)

bucky barnes x fem reader

words: 11.3k

warnings: **18+ ONLY** friends to lovers, pining, smut, oral (f receiving), breeding kink, pregnancy kink, cockwarming (kind of??), trigger warning for having troubles with getting pregnant. it's still super fuckin soft despite all of that though, i swear.

a/n: okay so it's currently 6am as i'm typing this and i haven't been to sleep yet bc i decided to just heavily edit this instead of rewrite it bc i'm lazy i guess idk. this was posted originally back in 2021 i believe and it's still on ao3 it's just orphaned rip. i promise i'll be writing and posting new stuff soon ok pls have faith in me and cheer me on bc it's hard and scary and i don't wanna disappoint anybody :( ANYWAY, as usual, any and all mistakes are my own. if i've missed anything important pls let me know so i can correct it. feedback is encouraged (pls) and appreciated (i am begging...)

The idea of you having a child one day always seemed foreign and very unlikely. Sure, you liked kids well enough, but having one of your own…

It’s a thought that’s sat in a corner deep in your mind, buried beneath a million other impossible concepts; a thought that you’ve only ever glanced over and never gave your full attention, having ruled it out ages ago as something you just couldn’t—or wouldn’t—do.

And then, on a day like any other, it pushes its way to the forefront of your mind, making itself known and unwilling to leave.

You’re going into the clothing store to find a new cardigan after your most favorite one got eaten by the dryer. Usually you’re a single-minded shopper, walking into a store with tunnel vision and on a mission to get what you need and that’s it.

Today, however, you make the mistake of letting your eyes wander on your way to the sweater section. Your gaze just so happens to land on the baby clothes… and your steps falter. It’s there that you see it, a tiny, pink onesie with a sleeping teddy bear printed on the front, displayed on an even tinier hanger. There’s matching pants with teddy bears all over them and ruffles on the butt and all your brain can muster up is cutecutecutecutecute.

Your feet carry you closer and before you realize what you’re doing you pick up the outfit, letting out a coo when you realize the teddy bear is fuzzy, softly rubbing your thumb across it. Somehow, you walk out of the store, not with a new cardigan, but with the cute baby outfit and a bow you thought looked adorable with it.

It’s not until you get home that it hits you, that you bought baby clothes for a baby you don’t even have.

The feeling that rushes through you is hard to describe. Shame? Embarrassment?

...Yearning?

No. Definitely not. Nope.

There’s absolutely no yearning going on here, not for a baby. You’ve never even had that desire before and you certainly don’t see yourself having it now. You shake your head to clear it, telling yourself you’ll take it back tomorrow.

Except you don’t take it back. You conveniently “forget” and it stays shoved on the top shelf in your hall closet. You pretend you don’t pause in front of said closet throughout the following days—weeks—chewing on the inside of your cheek and staring at the door like you can see through the wood at the evidence of your impulsive purchase.

It gets harder to ignore, though, when you start getting ads for baby clothing brands. And baby toys, bottles, handy little gadgets for new parents, nursery decor… It’s endless.

Then, as if it wasn’t already bad enough, all of your childhood friends start popping out babies like it’s a brand new trend. You don't think you've seen your social media this flooded with pregnancy announcements and baby arrivals, ever. Your emotions are mixed; happy for them, and for their excitement, but there’s also a weird discomfort settled in your stomach.

You hesitate to be that person who thinks the universe is trying to tell you something, but you do wonder. Why else would you suddenly have these feelings? Why else would there be baby stuff everywhere you look now?

It brings on other thoughts, as well. In this day and age, it’s not too unusual for women to have babies without being married, or without a significant other at all. There is the pressure, still, to at least be in a relationship, but considering you’ve been practically in love with one of your closest friends for the last two years, it’s safe to say that you’re tragically single, so having a baby with someone is out of the question.

And god, do you even want a baby?

As soon as the thought crosses your mind, with a sudden clarity that hits you like a ton of bricks, you realize you do. It feels like a freight train has slammed into you. Your mind’s eye supplies you with images of a swollen belly and wide smile, a precious baby wrapped in a soft blanket, cradled in your arms, a gummy grin and happy giggle.

Emotion consumes you then, longing like you’ve never felt in your life, chest aching with how badly you want that.

It’s not as if you’re too young. You’re plenty old enough and you’ve got a secure job. You don’t subscribe to that whole biological clock nonsense, but you do feel that if you are going to potentially have a baby, it might be better to do it now while you’re still in relatively good health.

You groan, dropping your face into your open palms, the movie you'd been watching to try and distract yourself long forgotten as it continues to play on the television.

This is a lot to think about, you ponder to yourself. Taking a deep breath in and releasing it slowly, you decide the mature thing to do is give yourself more time to ruminate on it. Having a baby is no small decision. You need to be absolutely certain it’s what you want. It’s going to change your entire life, everything, and you’d be responsible for a new life. So, you’ll have to give yourself a few months to decide and then you can go from there.

***

You’re scrolling through yet another article on your laptop, engrossed in every detail of the process of artificial insemination and the symptoms and side effects that come with it. So engrossed, in fact, that you don’t hear the key turning in the lock, the door opening and closing, and the heavy footfalls that follow.

It’s only when Bucky asks, “Whatcha reading?” that you are even aware of his presence.

You startle so hard that your knee slams into the underside of your table. Ignoring the throbbing pain in your knee and your wildly beating heart, you close your laptop with a snap and turn to Bucky.

“You could knock,” you grouse.

“Why give me a key, then?” he retorts, unapologetic.

You roll your eyes and grumble under your breath, “Clearly, it was a mistake.”

“You didn’t answer me.”

Brows furrowed, you ask, “What?”

He gestures to your laptop. “What were you reading? Your nose was nearly smushed against the screen.”

You blink, trying to think of a reasonable excuse and coming up empty.

“Nothing,” is all your brilliant mind can supply.

Bucky’s eyes narrow for a few seconds, and you pray to every higher power and all that is holy and good that he won’t press further. You remain frozen under Bucky’s suspicious stare, hearing that Old West shootout music playing in your mind.

Thankfully, it seems the deities are feeling indulgent, as Bucky chooses let it go.

He holds up the bags he carried in. “I brought lunch.”

You perk up instantly. “Did you go to that one place—?”

“With the fried rice you like so much, yes,” he finishes for you, smiling.

“You’re the best,” you sigh, stomach rumbling eagerly.

“I know,” he replies, solemn and dramatic like the idiot he is.

He begins taking out the styrofoam boxes and chattering on about something dumb Steve did the other day, and you mean to listen, you really do. It’s just. That article is still lingering in your brain. There’s so many steps and hassles. Plus, it’s not cheap. It would be a hefty investment.

You’d only researched it because, after months of contemplating the pros and cons of having a baby, you determined the pros far outweigh the cons. But then the problem was: how to even make it happen.

Your first thought was that you didn’t think you’d let just any man come inside you, for many obvious reasons. You’d shuddered to think of it. Then there was surrogacy, which is admirable and wonderful, but you’d quickly dismissed that idea as you realized you wanted to actually carry the baby yourself. So that led you to artificial insemination. You weren’t sure how you felt about it yet. There was something a little too clinical about choosing a random man’s sperm to have injected into your uterus.

Bucky’s still speaking as he grabs plates and forks, unaware of your inner monologue. “And then he got Sam involved,” he’s saying, scooping out food onto the plates, “which, as you know, I always think is a dumb thing to do.”

“I want to have a baby,” you blurt, eyes widening at your outburst.

Bucky fumbles with the spoon, sending fried rice flying, muttering curses as he tries to catch it with no luck as it lands with a dull clunk on the table. The silence that follows is loud. It feels like your heart is in your throat as you wait for him to just say something, anything.

“This is… quite a mess I’ve made,” Bucky finally observes. His voice is a bit higher than usual. “Where’s your vacuum? Actually, do you have one of those mini ones? Or would Clorox wipes be better? You know what, I’ll do both.”

He nods decisively then turns an expectant look towards you. His eyes look a bit wild, but you wisely keep that to yourself.

Wordlessly, you direct him to your hall closet. You realize your error a second too late when he opens the closet and reaches for the vacuum on the top shelf, where the purchase you’d made months ago also rests. His fingers get caught in the plastic bag when he grabs the handheld vacuum and its contents spill out. He goes to catch them right away, but once it registers what they are, he lets go of them like they’re on fire and nearly drops the vacuum on his foot.

Heat has been steadily creeping up your neck, but now your whole body feels aflame with embarrassment. The two of you stare at the baby clothes lying unassumingly on the floor for a long moment, until Bucky quietly walks back to the table with the vacuum clutched tightly in his fist. He flicks the switch on and it whirs to life, sucking up the bits of rice scattered around the table.

There’s another lengthy silence after he turns the vacuum off and you're unable to find the right thing to say to break it. Bucky does it for you.

“So… You’re serious.”

You meet his eyes and sigh heavily. “Yeah.”

He blinks a few times before clearing his throat, schooling his expression carefully. “I didn’t realize you were seeing someone.”

You cough lightly and start picking the peas out of your fried rice. “Well, that would be because I’m not.”

“I don’t think I follow,” he admits slowly.

You sigh again, lowering your gaze to your lap. “Look, I’ve thought about this a lot, okay? I’ve given myself months to really make sure it’s what I want. I’m in a good place in my life to have one, Bucky, and I don’t want to feel pressured to wait until I might get married.” You lift your gaze to his. “I want to have a baby,” you repeat firmly. “And I don’t need a partner to have one.”

You’re not sure why you feel the need to defend yourself. It’s not up to Bucky what you decide to do. You don’t need his approval, or anyone else’s. Maybe it’s because, even though you know it's not true, it feels like you're making too hasty of a decision.

After a beat, Bucky amends, “Well, I mean… You do…”

“Oh my god, shut up, you know what I mean,” you groan as you smack his arm, glad that he's not calling you crazy or trying to talk you out of it.

He doesn’t even flinch, the jerk.

“Wait, so what were you reading when I got here?” he suddenly questions, brows furrowed.

“Nothing,” you say too quickly, guiltily.

“Let me see your laptop then,” he counters as he crosses his arms over his chest.

You flounder for a second, scoffing. “What? No!”

“It can’t be that embarrassing, just show me,” he wheedles.

“Absolutely not.”

“Let me see!”

“It’s private!”

“Don’t be a chicken.”

Your eye twitches. “I’m not a chicken.” Bucky smirks and before he can even open his mouth you interject with a finger pointed accusingly at his face, “Do not start clucking at me, Bucky. I’ll kick your ass,” you threaten, though it's weak and you're not the only one who knows it.

You glare when his smirk only widens. Slowly, he moves his arms like he’s gonna flap them like chicken wings.

“Ugh! God, fine! You wanna know what I was reading?” You open your laptop and slide it over to him, turning it to where he can read it. “There.”

Bucky scans the page, then scans it again, eyes flicking all over like it’s in a different language. His cheeks grow redder and redder as he reads and you get a small sense of satisfaction at the sight.

“Wow,” he mutters finally. “You’re turkey baster serious.”

“James Buchanan Barnes,” you say, pinching the bridge of your nose.

“What?” he asks innocently.

When you make eye contact with him, you purse your lips to keep the laughter threatening to bubble out at bay, but the ever growing smile on Bucky’s face is hard to resist and you find yourself snorting a laugh that leads to uncontrollable giggles. Bucky’s laughing with you, his eyes crinkling on the sides. The tension you hadn’t realized you held in your shoulders loosens and you nudge his knee with yours in silent thanks.

“So,” he says after you've both calmed down.

“So,” you repeat, dragging it out, drumming your fingers on the tabletop. “I’ve been doing research, checking out all of my options, and while artificial insemination seems like the best choice… I don’t know, there’s just something too clinical about it,” you reply, voicing your concerns, “It doesn’t feel right. I know I said I don’t need a partner, and I don’t, but… Having absolutely no connection is weird.”

You shrug, waving a hand as if to say oh well, putting an end to the conversation, and pick up your plate to carry it over to the microwave. You reheat Bucky’s food while you’re up, and then you both start eating in comfortable silence. He gets halfway through his meal before speaking up.

“Have you… I mean, did you think about… I’ve heard that, uh. Some people ask another person…”

He trails off, clearly frustrated that he can’t just spit out what he’s trying to say. You think you understand what he means, though.

“I read up on surrogacy,” you say, biting your lip. “But I don’t think I’d want someone else to carry my baby.”

“Oh, no, I didn’t mean—I wasn’t suggesting, uh, that. Not that there’s anything wrong with it!” he rushes to say.

You tilt your head. “What did you mean then?”

“Well,” Bucky starts, stilted, licking his lips. “For the artificial insemination, have you considered… you know. Asking someone you’re close with?”

You frown, not following.

“For—for the sperm,” he clarifies, shifting in his seat.

“Oh,” you breathe, blinking rapidly, surprised as you think of how to reply. “Um. No? I wouldn’t even know who I could ask, to be honest. That’s quite the request, you know? Who would—“

“Me,” he interrupts, determined and cheeks flushed, “I would.”

Your own face heats. “Oh,” you say again, quieter.

You can say, with full confidence, that not once did it cross your mind to ask anyone to help you, but you especially would have never given thought to asking Bucky.

For a list of reasons, really, with “it’s Bucky” being right at the very top. Like—sure, yes, you’re in love with him, but after two years of no signs of reciprocation you’ve learned to stop dreaming, to stop hoping. If the attraction was mutual he would have shown it by now, right? And on top of that, his friendship means the world to you and you wouldn’t do anything to jeopardize it. You'd never forgive yourself if you ever managed to fuck up the one good, constant thing going for you.

“Bucky,” you start, slow and careful, “this… This isn't something you can just jump into. It’s something you should think about for a while.”

He contemplates that for a second. “You’re right,” he concedes with a nod. “But…” He purses his lips, glancing away for a minute before turning back to you, leaning forward. “Okay listen, this is important for you. It’s going to change your whole life. You said it yourself, not having a connection to the sperm donor feels wrong. You’re my best friend, alright? I—care about you. You should pick someone you can trust.”

He clenches his jaw after he finishes speaking. You sort of hate the way your heart both flutters and plummets at his words. It’s nice to know you matter to him, just not in the way you’ve wanted for too long.

And if you’re really honest with yourself, Bucky would be a great choice as a donor. He’s in great health, has strong features that would look wonderful on any gender. But would you be able to handle the repercussions of having his child? Would you be able to look at your baby and see those features without it sending a pang through your chest every single time? You can’t say for certain.

Yet, the chance to have that type of connection with him, selfishly, sounds too good to pass up.

“At least think about it for a few days,” you murmur reluctantly.

It’s the most acceptance he’ll get and he knows it. A smile blooms across his face and you have to swallow down the warring emotions rising within you.

***

With the amount of research you do on the subject now, it doesn’t take long for you to find out that there are at-home kits for artificial insemination that are much easier (and cheaper). It’s easy to settle on that, clicking on the info to order your kit with butterflies fluttering in your stomach.

You read through the instructions online and it all sounds simple enough, until you get to the part where it says that having an orgasm after injection helps increase your chances of conception.

Blinking, heat crawling up your neck, you read that step several times, hoping you read it wrong, but it doesn’t change.

You… You can’t masturbate with Bucky’s sperm inside you. That’s a line you refuse to cross.

And besides, he’s a healthy man in his thirties who exercises regularly and eats fairly healthy food! You probably—definitely—won’t need to take that step. It’ll be fine. Probably.

Once the kit arrives, you call Bucky and ask him to come over so you can explain the process to him. Since he’s only across the hall of your apartment building, he’s there a moment later, letting himself in with his key.

“Let’s make a baby,” is how he greets you.

“Hold your horses,” you reply, fighting back a laugh. “I gotta walk you through everything first.”

He plops himself down next to you on your couch. “Fine, fine. Go ahead.”

Squaring your shoulders, you begin telling him how it all works, and what parts he is key for. You speak through your awkwardness, avoiding eye contact, when you explain that he’ll need to masturbate into a clean, sterile cup. You leave out how it’s suggested for you to also masturbate, deciding it’s not pertinent information for him to know.

“When do we start?” he asks once you’re done.

“I have to take an ovulation test first to find out the best days for me to conceive, but once I do that we’ll be able to, um.” You gesture vaguely. “I’ll be able to do the injections.”

He nods. “Alright.” He looks at you then, taking your hand in his and giving it a squeeze. “I’ll be here every step of the way, okay?”

“I know,” you say, smiling. “Thank you, Bucky.”

“You’re welcome,” he returns softly.

“No, really, thank you,” you assert. “This is a lot to take on and I can never fully repay you.”

Bucky shakes his head. “I want you to be happy, and I can see that having this baby is going to do that. I’ll do whatever I need to do to ensure it happens.”

You pull him into a hug, willing yourself to not cry. You’re not sure he’ll ever understand what this means for you, personally, or that you’d ever find a way to express it. He’s giving you so much more than just a baby.

***

The first injection time comes and you find yourself fidgeting where you sit as you wait for Bucky to bring over the, uh… sample. You do your best to not think about what he’s doing in his apartment, to not think about exactly how he’s collecting his sperm.

Now is not the time, you mentally scold yourself. Get it together.

A timid knock at your door alerts you to his presence. The fact he’s knocking says a lot about his own level of embarrassment about the situation.

His cheeks are pink when you open the door. “Uh, hi.”

“Hi,” you return.

He clears his throat and lifts the small cup in his hand. “Here’s… well, you know.”

You gingerly take it from him, not knowing what else to say, but when he smiles somewhat crookedly and turns to leave, you find yourself asking, “Will you stay?”

Bucky’s steps pause. “Huh?”

“Will you—I mean… Would you mind staying?” You shift on your feet. “This is a big moment for me. I-I don’t want to do it alone.”

“Are you asking me to…?” He trails off awkwardly.

“Oh! God, no, I wouldn’t—no,” you assure, huffing a laugh, “I’m doing the injection, I just need a little moral support. That’s all.”

Bucky smiles. “Sure, I’ll stay.”

Relief floods through you. You step aside to let him in, closing the door behind him. He follows you to your bedroom and just before entering you stop in your tracks, nearly causing Bucky to bump into you.

“Um,” you mutter, turning to him. “You’ll have to, ah, sit out here,” you explain. “I have to be lying down…”

Understanding dawns on him. “Oh! Right, right, of course. Sorry.”

“I’ll let you know when I’m done,” you promise.

He nods and watches you close the door. You walk over to your bed and sit down, glancing at the syringe you’ll be using and biting the inside of your cheek.

This is it. There’s really no going back after this. Sure, you may not get pregnant the first time, but Bucky’s already said he’d help you for as long as it takes. It’s just… very real now. You don’t feel any doubts, though. You want this.

Inhaling a large breath and slowly letting it out, hands shaking, you take the lid off the cup and pick up the syringe. You remember the instructions, making sure there’s as little air sucked in as possible when you draw out the semen, and getting rid of the few air bubbles that you see. You grab your pillows and lie down, propping them beneath you to lift your hips.

“Here I go,” you mumble to yourself, taking another deep breath and releasing it.

A couple minutes later, the syringe is empty and you’ve got your legs pulled up to your chest. You cover yourself with your blanket and call out Bucky’s name.

“You okay?” you hear through the door.

“Will you come here, please?” you ask.

He walks in cautiously, making sure you’re decently covered before entering fully, wisely not commenting on your position. “Well?”

“I did it,” you whisper.

He stays quiet, letting you parse through your thoughts. You blink when you feel tears threatening to gather in your eyes. He’s beside you in an instant, crawling in the bed and lying down, taking your hand in his.

“Congratulations,” he says softly.

“Don’t congratulate me yet,” you reply, sniffing and wiping at your eyes.

“Still,” he presses. “You’re one step closer now.”

He pulls your hand up and kisses the back of it. You give him a watery smile. The two of you lay there in silence for a moment before Bucky breaks it.

“This isn’t how I pictured myself making a baby.”

It startles a laugh out of you and Bucky grins, pleased to have helped ease the tense atmosphere. He distracts you with idle conversation after that, talking about his plans for the upcoming weekend, asking about yours, tells you about the newest stupid thing Sam did; he talks and talks and talks, until your anxiety is gone, and then he stays to cook dinner for you.

Your hug when he gets ready to head back to his apartment lasts a couple minutes longer than usual. Bucky quietly allows it, dropping a kiss on your forehead when you pull away.

“Same time next week?” he jokes, making you crack a smile.

“Goodbye, Bucky,” you reply exasperatedly as you close your door.

“Bye, sweetheart,” he returns over his shoulder.

***

Weeks pass. More injections. Pregnancy tests taken.

But nothing happens.

All of your tests come back negative.

When reading up on artificial insemination, and pregnancy in general, you’d understood that there was a chance it wouldn’t happen right away. You thought you were fine with that, that you’d be alright with the waiting and all. Looking at your growing collection of negative tests, however, has a sense of dread building within you. You do your best to quell it, telling yourself there’s no need to stress over it. Yet.

Besides, your mind supplies in an overly cheerful manner, there’s still one more method to try!

***

The next time Bucky brings over his sample, he lets himself in, like always, and passes along the cup with an encouraging smile. You try to smile back, but it feels more like a grimace. He either doesn’t notice or he at least pretends not to, thankfully.

But when he goes to make himself comfortable to wait, you’re reminded that you haven’t told him about the, uh… change in procedure, so to speak.

You clear your throat delicately. “I don’t think you’ll need to stick around this time.”

Bucky frowns. “Why not?”

“Because…” You trail off, cheeks pinking, yet not finishing the sentence, because how do you explain this?

“I promised you I’d be here every step of the way,” he recalls. “I intend to keep that promise.”

You wince. “I really appreciate where your heart is, Bucky, I really do, but I literally cannot let you be here for this injection.”

“Why not?”

You look heavenward for mercy. “I have to…”

When you don’t finish your sentence again, Bucky raises a single brow, gesturing for you to go on. “You have to… what?”

You huff, throwing your arms out. “I have to orgasm, okay?”

His eyes go a little bit wide, but you can tell he tries to control his reaction. He swallows, shifting where he sits on the couch.

“Oh,” he mumbles. “Have… have you had to do that before?”

“No. Well, I mean, it was suggested, but I never…”

His eyebrows furrow. “Does it help or something?”

You absently scratch your neck. “They say it increases the chances of conception.”

“But you haven’t been doing… that.”

“I didn’t think I’d need to.”

Bucky inhales like he’s going to say something, but then doesn’t.

“Yeah, so, I don’t think you should be here,” you utter, quickly adding, “No offense.”

“No, yeah, that’s fair, um. I’ll just—I’ll head back to my apartment,” he states as he stands. “You can—I mean, if you still want me to—I can come back over? After you… uh…”

“I’ll let you know,” you reply, voice tight and high.

He nods, looking lost and like he wants to say more but thinks better of it. Finally, he mutters a soft bye and is out the door.

Alone now, your stomach feels like it’s tying itself in knots and your heart is doing its damnedest to beat out of your chest. You try to tell yourself that it’s just another injection, that this is the same as any other time you've done this, but you know it’s not. It's really, really not.

Laying down on your bed, syringe in hand, is much more nerve wracking than before. On your left lies a new addition to your routine. You don’t know why you’re acting like such a prude all the sudden. It’s not like you’ve never masturbated before. Though, you suppose the major difference is that you didn’t have Bucky’s sperm hangin’ out in your vagina all those other times while you did it.

“Quit being such a goober about this,” you tell yourself.

This has to be done for a reason. If you want to have a baby—and you do, very badly—then you’re gonna have to deal with the process.

Once you’ve injected the sperm, you reach for your bullet vibrator next to your left hand. The instructions say not to insert anything, only to stimulate your clit. You try to clear your head, think of it as a chore or something, yet it’s hard not to think of a certain someone.

The vibrator buzzes with the press of a button. You adjust your hips, making sure they’re tilted, then bring the vibrator to your clit. The first touch makes your stomach tense and thighs spasm.

You close your eyes, running the toy along your slit. You really don’t want to drag this out, would prefer to get it over with as quickly as possible, but your mind begins running away with images.

Bucky, settled between your spread thighs, one hand resting on one of them, the other controlling the vibrator. You imagine he’d tease you, slowly trail it along the crease of your thighs, over your hips; everywhere but where you wanted it.

Bucky would probably give in once you whine and beg enough, once your desperation bled into your voice, and hold the vibrator directly to your clit, drink in your cries of pleasure like they’re the finest whisky.

He’d mutter soft but firm encouragement, tell you how good you’re doing, how good you sound. He’d start circling the vibrator, going from quick to lazy swirls, then he’d change the setting to a higher one just to hear you whimper. His free hand would run up your torso to pinch at your nipples for added stimulation.

When you imagine him leaning down to add his tongue into the mix, your mind blanks as your climax hits you, a ragged moan forcing its way out of your throat. You’re quick to turn the vibrator off and toss it to the floor, deciding you’ll worry about cleaning it later, chest heaving as you pant for breath after an intense orgasm.

Shame and embarrassment consume you, mock you for using Bucky to rub one out. You’d given in to the fantasy so easily.

Truthfully, it’s not the first time you’ve thought of him while pleasuring yourself, but the context this time is completely different, and you feel immediately guilty. Admittedly, it’s probably irrational.

That doesn’t stop you from cringing at your actions.

***

You’re sure you’ve bought out the entire pregnancy test section from the convenience store down the block. Currently, there are six different brands in front of you, all promising the most accurate results.

Bucky is sitting in your bedroom, quietly waiting for you to pee on all of them so you can both find out what they say. You chug the last bit of your third bottle of water even though your bladder is fit to burst at any moment. Turning the faucet on for modesty, you make quick work of the tests, then wash your hands.

And wait.

You call Bucky into the bathroom with you. The two of you quietly sit on the edge of your bathtub, counting down the minutes. Part of you wishes Bucky would say something dumb to break the tension, like he usually does, but you're also kind of glad he's just here, next to you, a silent comfort.

It seems like hours have passed when you’re finally sure you can check them.

The first one is negative, and so is the second. The third, however, reads positive. Your heart begins racing, clutching at the counter, but before your hopes get too carried away you read the rest. To your dismay, they are all negative. You stare down at them all, eyes falling on the loan positive test multiple times, knowing that it’s likely a false positive, yet stupidly hoping otherwise.

Your chin wobbles. Bucky hugs you from behind, resting his cheek on your shoulder.

“What do I do, Bucky?”

At your broken whisper, he sighs. “I don’t know, sweetheart.”

Neither of you know what to say or do after that. Bucky continues offering quiet support, his solid presence at your back, and you’re grateful. Eventually, he leads you out of the bathroom and into the kitchen, sitting you down at the table as he starts preparing dinner.

When you’re both eating the spaghetti he made, he breaks the silence.

“Do you think…” he starts, pausing to think of how to phrase his question before carefully carrying on. “Are you going to stop?”

“I don’t want to,” you answer, the implied but hanging heavy in the air.

Bucky sits his fork down. “I know you want this, very much.” He pushes his hair out of his face as he leans forward, elbows settling on the table. “But I hate seeing how sad you get when the tests come out negative. I feel so… powerless. Like I could be doing more or something.”

“You’re doing all you can, Bucky,” you assure.

“That’s the thing, though. I don’t think I am.”

You frown. “What do you mean?”

He licks his lips, locking his fingers together. “I think we should have sex.”

Your fork drops to your plate with a clang, eyes going wide.

“I apologize for how blunt that came out,” he states with a wince. “But, I mean, think about it. You’ve only been using my sperm from a syringe, and up until the last time, you hadn’t been, um, orgasming with it.” You look away, bashful. “I just wonder if maybe trying the old-fashioned way would give you better results.”

“Bucky,” you start, opening and closing your mouth a couple times before shaking your head. “It’s one thing for you to offer your sperm, which I’m thankful for, truly, but… Having sex?”

“I’ve already told you I’m willing to do whatever I need to do,” he retorts earnestly. “Your happiness means a lot to me, okay? I hate sitting around and watching your heart break every week. You’ve tried it your way, now I think we should try mine.”

“I-I don’t know,” you hesitate, chewing on the inside of your cheek, knee beginning to bounce under the table.

His hand slides onto your knee, stilling the movement as he ducks his head to meet your gaze. His eyes are impossibly sincere and your resolve crumbles in an instant.

“It won’t… It’s not going to change anything,” he assures. “I won’t allow it.”

You swallow roughly. He may not, but your heart is going to take its toughest beating yet. It’s going to be hopeless trying to overcome the inevitable emotions that come with sex.

Even so, somehow, your longing for a baby eclipses all of this. Now that you’ve imagined holding your child in your arms, raising them and loving them, you can’t go back. Not anymore.

“Okay,” you allow, softly.

Bucky’s shoulders relax, lips tipping up into a devastating smile.

You’re so fucked. (Pun intended.)

***

Two nights later, you’re pacing in your bedroom, impatiently waiting for Bucky to arrive. You’d been unsure whether or not you should dress up. You didn’t see the point, honestly. Still, a small part of you wondered what his reaction would be if he saw you all done up in lingerie. At the moment, you’re in an oversized t-shirt and pajama shorts.

It’s Bucky, you think, and this isn’t a normal situation, it doesn’t matter what I’m wearing.

You hear his key turning in the lock then and your heart begins hammering away. He calls your name as he enters.

“In here,” you reply, twisting your fingers nervously.

He walks into your room looking just as on edge as you are. He also seems to have had the same idea about his attire, comfortable in his white tee and sweatpants. His feet are bare and for whatever reason that feels way more intimate than it has any right to.

“Hey,” he greets.

“Hi.”

You bite your lip, eyes flitting around your room and coming back to settle on Bucky. He huffs.

“This is ridiculous,” he declares, “It’s just us.”

“Right,” you nod, biting the inside of your cheek.

“It’s not gonna be weird.”

“Nope.”

His jaw ticks. You stare back at him. It only takes a moment for you to realize that somebody has to make the first move, so you steel yourself and turn on your heel, walking towards your bed.

“I’m keeping my shirt on,” you announce as you unceremoniously drop onto the mattress, grabbing your pillows to stuff them under you.

Bucky follows at a sedate pace, fists clenching and unclenching at his sides. He pauses next to you, taking a second to roll his shoulders, then he climbs in and settles in front of your bent legs. He gingerly places his hands on your knees.

“May I?” he asks.

Mouth suddenly dry, you nod. He moves his hands to the waistband of your shorts and tugs. You lift your hips to help him slide them down and off, along with your underwear. Gently, he spreads your legs.

Your breathing has picked up considerably, eyes firmly trained on the ceiling. You know you’re already wet and are blessedly thankful he doesn’t mention it.

The first slide of his fingers has you inhaling sharply. He slowly gathers your slick and trails it up to your clit, lightly circling it. Your mind recalls your fantasy, but you quickly shove it back to the depths of your thoughts, lest you do something idiotic like tell him about it.

He spreads your legs more, adjusting his position between them. His fingers move down until he can sink one into you. You gasp, hands shooting out to grasp your sheets. He wastes no time and begins thrusting his finger inside you.

It becomes quickly apparent to you that it’s going to be very difficult to hold back any noise or reactions. Goddamnit, you will try, though!

When he decides it’s time to add another finger, you feel yourself clench around them, and his soft fuck does not go unnoticed, evident in the way your pussy traitorously clenches again.

“Can I…?” he asks, voice cracking, but doesn’t finish his thought, making you have to break your staring contest with the ceiling and look at him.

He’s not even looking back at you, he’s staring at his fingers, watching them pump in and out of you, half bent over with a slack jaw, like he wants to…

He meets your eyes then, licking his lips.

Oh.

Swallowing around the sudden lump in your throat, knowing you’re probably going to regret it, you nod.

He’s leaning over and sucking on your clit before you can even blink. You cry out, thighs trying to clamp around his head, but his free hand shoots out to hold you open. It makes you squirm, fisting the sheets even tighter. His fingers curl inside you as his tongue licks around them and you whine, high and needy, and then mouth is back on your clit, tongue swiping over it, sucking on it with loud, obscene noises.

His hand comes up to grab the hem of your shirt, shoves it upward until it’s bunched underneath your breasts. Those fingers ghost back down your torso, goosebumps erupting in their wake.

He speeds up his thrusts and your hand flies down to grip his hair. You don’t think you’re meant to hear the quiet grunt he lets out, but you do, and it has you panting even harder. Your orgasm is building, fast, and you pull on his hair in warning.

“Bucky,” you say on a gasp.

Using his arm to hold you down, his free hand joins, thumb swiping over your clit now as he dips his head to slide his tongue in alongside his fingers. It draws a yell out of you, the ever expanding pleasure within you bursting into the hardest orgasm you’ve experienced thus far in your adult life. You know you’re moaning, bucking into the sensations coursing through you, and you’d feel abashed if you didn’t feel so fucking good.

Before you can become too sensitive, Bucky withdraws his fingers and sits up. You can’t even really catch your breath, though, because in the next second he’s whipping his t-shirt off and shoving his sweatpants down far enough to free his cock.

Your thighs do clamp closed then, at the sight of how thick he is, and he tries and fails to keep his smirk hidden.

“Oh, shut up,” you wheeze.

“Didn’t say anything,” he counters.

He doesn’t let you argue, choosing that moment to shuffle closer and line up with your opening. Cautiously, he eases himself inside, inch by inch. Your mouth drops open, brows furrowing as he fills you, stretching you so perfectly. When he’s in as far as he can go, the breath wooshes out of him, his head falling back. You know he’s trying to be polite and let you adjust, but—

“Oh my god, move,” you demand, impatient.

He huffs a laugh, dropping his heavy lidded gaze to yours. “Bossy.”

“Did you really expect anything else—oh!”

The grin he aims your way after grinding into you is downright sinful. You mentally tell yourself to kick him for that later.

He grabs your hips and the pillows and settles you closer to his lap, changing the angle, then pulls out and glides back in, creating a painstakingly slow rhythm.

You have to close your eyes. You can’t look at him anymore. You knew he was probably a god in bed, but to now have firsthand experience? There was no way you’d be able to fuck anyone else without comparing them.

His grip on your hips tightens, the only warning you get before his thrusts turn sharp.

“Fuck,” you cry out, your hands reaching up to grip the pillow beneath your head.

The sound of your skin meeting his is harsh in the otherwise quiet room. Well, okay, you’re not exactly being quiet, but you can’t be blamed for that.

Bucky, however, is nearly silent. The only thing you hear from him is heavy breathing. You wonder if he’s holding back, the thought crossing your mind for a split second, and then you’re clenching around his cock, trying to see if you can gain a reaction. And boy, do you get one.

He grunts and sucks in a breath, lips parting as his eyes squeeze shut. His hips pick up their pace and hair falls into his face. You find yourself wishing he was closer so you could brush it out of the way.

Stop it, you scold yourself.

He pauses to grind into you again, your walls fluttering around his throbbing cock, and you both sigh. Bucky leans forward, hooking your legs into the crooks of his elbows, and resumes his brutal pace.

“O-Oh,” you whimper.

The new angle is heavenly, his cock dragging along a spot inside you that you thought nobody else could find. Unable to help yourself, you clutch at his arms, nails digging in.

“Shit,” he groans, thrusts faltering.

He lets go of one of your legs to slip his hand between you, rubbing at your clit and sending you that much closer to your second orgasm. He can tell you’re close, but you’re gonna need something to push you over the edge. He leans down even closer, breath fanning out against your cheek.

“C’mon,” he pants. “Let go.”

You shiver when his tongue flicks your earlobe and sucks it into his mouth, keening as the pressure builds. He thrusts harder, faster, and when you grasp his hair and pull, he growls and latches on to your shoulder, biting down. You gasp from the added pain and then you’re coming, shuddering and whining through your release. Bucky isn’t far behind, raising up and fucking into you savagely before pausing abruptly, groaning as he finally comes. He lazily thrusts a few more times to draw it out, then stops, stilling with his cock inside you.

Your hair is sticking to your forehead, as well as your shirt to your clammy back, breathing in lungfuls of air. Bucky is softly caressing your thighs, letting out shaky breaths as your pussy continues to flutter around him.

It takes several moments for you to gather your wits, for the rest of the world to come filtering back in. You are truly and completely fucked now, in every sense of the word.

“Well…” You trail off, voice scratchy.

“That was…”

“Mhm,” you mumble.

Bucky sighs heavily. “Let’s hope it worked this time.”

You hum. “Thank you for your service,” you reply with a lazy salute.

You yelp when he pinches your hip, kicking at him in retaliation. The jostling reminds you, with a gasping groan, that he’s still buried balls deep inside you.

“Um.” You cough lightly. “You wanna, you know… pull out?”

He looks down where you’re connected like it hadn’t even dawned on him. “Oh, uh. Well, I thought maybe it could, like. Help.”

His gaze stays locked, fingers flexing on your hips, and you feel like squirming again.

“I think it’s good,” you say quietly.

Bucky finally glances back up at your shy tone, cheeks pinking. He clears his throat.

“Right.”

Carefully, he eases his softening cock out of you, biting the inside of his cheek to keep from making a noise.

You can’t hold back yours, though, gasping once he’s gone. You feel unbearably empty, but refrain from voicing that incessant thought.

Bucky’s intense eyes stare at your pussy until you reach for the throw blanket next to you. He watches you throw it over your lap, drawing your legs up to your chest, and takes that as his cue, jolting into action.

“Okay, so.” He starts, then stops, climbs off your bed and pulls his sweatpants back up. “This was—I mean, if it doesn’t take this time, we can… try again.”

“Yeah,” you mutter. “Sounds good.”

He nods, bending to pick up his discarded t-shirt. “Great. I’ll just, um, see myself out, I guess.”

You nod, sending a smile that doesn’t quite reach your eyes in his direction. He seems to contemplate something for a second, then leans down to kiss your forehead before saying a quick goodbye and leaving.

As soon as you hear your apartment door shut, you let your tears fall.

***

It’s not really like you mean to avoid him after that.

Honest.

You simply become busy, that’s all. You definitely don’t go out of your way by taking the stairs in your apartment building to avoid possibly bumping into him in the elevator. No, you take the stairs because you could use the cardio. It’s important you stay healthy right now. And when he texts you to ask if you want to have dinner, you can’t help that you’ve got boatloads of work to catch up on—all five times he asks.

Okay, so, that’s a lie. You’re totally avoiding him. But what on earth are you supposed to say to him now? You don’t think you’d even be able to look him in the eye anymore, not after the fuck of your goddamn life.

That night confirmed what you already knew for the last two years: Bucky absolutely ruined you for anyone else.

More than anything, though, you were angry with yourself. He’d only offered because you weren’t getting your desired results the other way. You should have been able to separate your feelings and emotions from all of it. After all, none of this was about whatever you feel towards Bucky. This was about trying to conceive a baby.

You try telling yourself to get over it. He’s your best friend, you can’t just cut him off because you’re a spineless pansy.

I just need some time, you reason. You can give yourself a few days to wallow over what could have been and then you can reach out to him and pretend like everything is fine. Because it is.

***

Flash forward two weeks to you attempting to sneak into your apartment, only to jump out of your skin when you turn around and find Bucky sitting on your couch, an unreadable expression on his face.

“Oh, good, you’re still alive,” he drawls.

His tone suggests annoyance. You suppose you deserve that.

“Hey,” you say after a pause.

He stares at you for a moment longer before speaking again. “I thought we agreed we wouldn’t let it get weird.”

You agreed, you almost say, thankfully biting it back. You drop your purse on the entryway table, sliding your shoes off and making your way over to sit next to him.

“I’m sorry,” you mumble. You tug your sweater sleeves down and tuck your feet beneath you. “I haven’t ever… I’ve never been intimate with a friend before. It was just… a lot.”

It’s a half truth, at least. You haven’t had sex with a friend before. Or, well, not one you had feelings for.

“You could’ve just told me,” he replies, reaching for your hand.

You nod. “I know, and I should have, I just. Things are all out of whack lately with the whole… trying to get pregnant thing.”

“If I overstepped in any way—” Bucky starts, but you’re quick to interrupt.

“You didn’t,” you promise. “You’ve been nothing but fantastic throughout this whole ordeal. Honestly, Bucky, you’ve done way more than anyone else would have in this situation. I just had a lot going on in my head and let it get the best of me. I’m fine, I swear.”

He searches your eyes and must find what he’s looking for.

“Don’t shut me out again,” he pleads.

Heart cracking in your chest, you can only nod, shuffling closer to pull him into a hug. He buries his face in your neck and holds on tight.

***

Another week passes.

Bucky is with you as you wait for the results of the latest pregnancy test. He’s reassured you that you’ll keep trying until it happens if it didn’t work this time.

When the timer on your phone goes off, you release the breath you’ve been holding. You take tentative steps over to the sink and gingerly pick up the test.

Positive.

Your stomach swoops. It’s positive. You check again, reading the digitized screen, but it stays the same. Positive. Holy shit.

“Okay, wait, no, I need to do more. I can’t get my hopes up again,” you mutter, rushing to open the cabinet under your sink to dig out several more varieties of tests.

You don’t even wait for Bucky to leave before you’re peeing on the other sticks. He’s seen it all at this point anyway, and he doesn’t seem to care, sitting on the edge of your tub with an anxious expression. The downside is that you have to wait another few minutes for these tests to finish and you can’t sit still, pacing back and forth in the small space of your bathroom.

The timer goes off again. You feel like you’re going to throw up when you finally work up the courage to look down.

Every single one of them… Positive.

A shocked, happy laugh escapes you. You cover your mouth, turning to Bucky with wide eyes.

He rises to his full height, coming closer and peering down at the tests, then back to your teary eyed expression.

“Did we…?”

Words failing you, you nod, giggling in astonishment. Bucky’s face breaks into the biggest, handsomest, most gut-wrenching smile. His happiness is palpable and you’re suddenly so overcome with emotion. Your hands are gripping his face and angling it to align your lips to his before you register what you’re doing. He freezes and you hurriedly pull away, taking a few steps back.

“I’m so sorry, I-I don’t know why—”

“Shut up,” he cuts you off, closing the gap between you in a single stride.

He kisses you like his life depends on it, pressing your bodies as close as possible, his hands cupping your cheeks. You clutch his shirt desperately, never wanting to let go. He steals the breath straight from your lungs when he swipes at the seam of your lips with his tongue, moaning happily when you allow him access. A feeble whine from you after he flicks his tongue against yours makes him break the kiss.

“I have a confession,” he breathes into the miniscule space between your mouths.

“What?” you question distractedly.

“I’m in love with you.”

Your gaze shoots up to his, astounded. He brushes stray hairs off your forehead, runs his thumbs softly under your eyes.

“I’ve been selfish this whole time,” he reveals. “I couldn’t let you choose some random stranger to be your sperm donor, to father your child, couldn’t bear the thought of you carrying their baby, because I’ve been in love with you since the moment I met you. I wanted to be the one. And I’m sorry for not telling you sooner, but I’m not sorry I did it.”

You’re hearing the words, yet your brain can’t seem to make sense of them. Surely you’re hearing him wrong. You can’t possibly have this too, right? You can't have Bucky and have his baby…

But he’s here, very real and solid beneath your hands, looking at you like you’re his entire world.

“Bucky…” You trail off, struggling to find the right words, at a complete loss. “I-I’ve loved you for so long now, I didn’t think you…” You shake your head, a giggle escaping you as you stare at him in wonder. “I couldn’t let myself hope.”

He grins, relieved, planting a few chaste kisses to your mouth. “I know this entire circumstance is totally backwards, but I want you, and I want this baby. I meant it when I said I’m not going anywhere.”

Fresh tears gather in the corners of your eyes. “Are you sure?” you still ask.

“I’ve never been more sure of anything.”

You have to kiss him then, uncaring of the tears that trickle down your face. The only thing you are focused on is the way his hands trail down your back, pausing to squeeze your ass, then grip underneath to lift you. Your legs wrap around his waist, arms locked around his neck, as he heads for your bed. He makes a point of throwing your extra pillows on the floor before settling between your thighs and kissing the hell out of you.

He pulls away only to undress you and himself, but he’s always back as quickly as possible, lips pressing kisses wherever he can reach. You impatiently tug at him until his lips are attached to yours again. The way he fucks his tongue into your mouth is nothing short of indecent and it sends a rush of pure want all the way to your core.

When you bury your fingers in his hair, gripping it tight, he grunts, biting your lip. You whimper and he grins as he pulls away.

“You make the most beautiful sounds,” he praises, his hands beginning to sweep down and up, tickling under your breasts.

His thumb and forefinger pinch one of your nipples and you gasp, back arching off your mattress. He repeats it on the other side, just to hear the same noise.

“Bucky, please,” you beg.

“Please what?” he prods. His hands drift further to the creases of your thighs, spreading them open. “What do you need?”

You whine, canting your hips up. “You, I need you, please.”

“You have me, sweetheart.” He tilts his head and you make a noise of frustration. “Use your words, darlin’.”

“Fuck me, please,” you burst out, feeling your pussy clench around nothing.

Bucky smiles, slow and torturous. “Yeah? Want me to fuck you? Fuck this perfect pussy until you’re so full of my come that it drips down your beautiful thighs?”

“Oh god,” you mumble.

“I’ll take that as a yes,” he teases.

His fingers slide down your slit, gathering your slick then thrusts two fingers in at once. You groan brokenly, shifting your hips to try and get more friction, but he holds them down with his metal arm. Agonizingly slow, he begins fucking you with his fingers. It’s good, it’s amazing, but it’s not enough. Not when you know what his cock feels like. He takes his precious time fingering you and you’re sure you’re going to lose your mind before the day is done.

“You have no idea how incredible you felt around my cock,” he tells you in a ridiculously conversational tone. “I was trying to think of any excuse I could come up with to have you at least one more time.”

He shifts until his mouth is directly above where you’re dripping for him, and he waits until you make eye contact with him.

“But now I’m gonna spend the rest of my life making you come apart on my cock any chance I get.”

You hardly have any functioning brain cells at the moment, but even if you could form a coherent sentence you wouldn’t have been able to say it aloud, because then he’s descending and all you can feel is the wet warmth of his mouth.

He definitely doesn’t hold back this time, that much is apparent in the way he devours you, lips and tongue drawing out noises you’ve never heard yourself make, pressing his face so far into your pussy that he has to come up for air. His mouth and chin shine when you chance a look down, and when you clench on his fingers his smile goes smug at the corners.

He plants kisses along your hips, the insides of your thighs, around where his fingers are buried within you. He curls them, in search of the spot he found last time. He knows he found it when you try to close your thighs around his head and cry out. Now that he's found it, he angles to brush it on every thrust of his fingers and attaches his mouth back on your clit.

You chant his name, nearly sobbing as you approach your climax, until finally you fly over the edge. Your vision blurs and you’re not sure if you’re making any noise now, unable to hear past the blood rushing in your ears. Bucky helps you ride it out until you’re shuddering from sensitivity.

He kisses your thighs again, trailing them up your stomach and between the valley of your breasts.

“So good, did so well,” he mutters.

Weakly, you lift your hands to trace them down his toned stomach and around his back, down further so you can cop a feel of your own, smiling at his grunt of surprise.

“That was great and all,” you say, arching your back so your chest presses against his, “but I do believe I asked you to fuck me.”

He arches an eyebrow. “Who said I was done with you?” It’s apparently a rhetorical question, as he continues before you get a chance to reply. “I’m gonna fuck you until you come, and then I’m gonna keep fucking you until you come again, and only then will I come so deep inside you there’ll be zero doubt I’ve put a baby there.”

Your legs are lifted and thrown over his shoulders in a blink, his cock pushing into your pussy, dragging out a high-pitched moan from you. There’s barely a pause and then he’s fucking you, just like you asked. The pace is brutal right from the start, a steady rhythm that has you mewling and writhing in pleasure. Bucky is watching his cock as he thrusts in and out of you, his mouth hanging open slightly as he pants. He hikes your hips up a little higher and you jolt through your startled moan. This angle is divine and the telltale signs of your second orgasm start tingling at the base of your spine.

“Can feel you,” Bucky says through panting breaths, “so close. C’mon, let me feel you.”

He pulls you down on his cock, grinding into you, his thumb reaching to rub tight circles over your clit. You sob through your release, shuddering against Bucky as you clench around him. He groans, still barely moving as you come down from your high.

“Fuck,” he grunts. “Come here.”

He helps you sit up, still seated on his cock, making you both hiss from your movement. Your arms automatically wrap around his shoulders and his around your waist. He kisses you so sweetly, a stark contradiction to the way he just fucked you. When you pull away, resting your foreheads together, he grins.

“Hi.”

You crack a smile. “Hi.”

“Ready for more?” he asks, wiggling his eyebrows.

“You think you got it in you?” you tease as you play with the hair at the nape of his neck.

The light smack to your ass startles you and you let out a soft sound of surprise, hands tugging his hair harshly. Bucky’s eyes light up.

“Interesting,” he muses.

Another slap, a little harder than the first, and you’re whimpering, your walls clenching around his still hard cock.

“I’ll play with that later,” he promises, voice breathy.

You bury your face in his neck and start shifting your hips. He takes the hint, gathering you as close as he can and thrusts up into you. He can’t pull out as far this way, but the snap of his hips more than makes up for it. You mouth at his collarbone messily, kissing and licking your way up to his jaw, biting marks wherever you see fit. You make it up to his mouth and he kisses you, wet and filthy. You suck on his tongue and a ragged moan claws its way out of his throat. The need for air eventually has you pulling away.

“It’s a good thing you love me back,” you whisper in his ear. “Nobody else could ever compare to you.”

He growls, fisting your hair and yanking your head back to look him in the eye.

“Nobody will ever compare,” he corrects.

You moan. “Yes,” you agree, whining, “No one else could’ve given me a baby.”

Bucky thrusts harder and faster at your words. You’re picking up on a few hints and you can’t say it’s not doing it for you either.

“Filled me up so good, fucked me so well. Gonna be round with your baby soon.”

“Fuck, fuck,” he keens, hurrying to lay you flat on your back so he can fuck into you easier.

The sound of skin meeting skin fills the room, your cries of pleasure mixing in with Bucky’s grunts and curses. His grip on you tightens almost painfully as he chases both your and his orgasm. You’re sure to have bruises tomorrow and you already know you'll be poking at them to remember this moment.

“C’mon, baby, wanna feel you too,” you beg.

His thumb finds your swollen clit once more. It’s beyond sensitive now, feels like a shockwave coursing through you, and without any warning, you come. You spasm around Bucky and he swears under his breath, thrusts going sloppy. With a final groan, he comes inside you, his hips moving seemingly on their own as he draws out both your pleasures. Slowly, he comes to a stop, but he leaves his cock buried in you like he did last time.

You know you’re gonna feel too empty when he does pull out, so you don’t mind sitting like this for a while. Bucky softly runs his hands across every inch of your skin he can touch and you bask in the affection. You card your fingers through his sweaty hair, smiling when he hums happily. It takes only a minute for you to notice the way his hands migrate to your stomach, and when you do you kiss his shoulder.

“Maybe we should go again later,” you suggest faintly.

Bucky grins. “We can do it a hundred more times if you want.”

“Guess I better enjoy it while I can.”

His smile goes soft at the edges.

It’s not lost on you how incredibly crazy all of this is. There will undoubtedly be a conversation, a much needed one that isn’t going to be simple or easy, but it’s necessary.

For now, though, you bask in Bucky’s warmth and loving embrace.

***

Keys jingle as they unlock the door and you perk up where you’re sprawled on the couch. Bucky enters, arms laden with bags from the convenience store.

“They didn’t have the banana ice cream you asked for,” he announces, continuing before your pout fully forms, “but they did have the double chocolate brownie kind you love so much, so I got that, as well as the sour gummy worms, beef jerky, and fried pickles from the deli on your list of demands.”

“What about—”

“And your strawberry Fanta,” he adds with a fond, slightly exasperated smile.

You’re unable to stop your expression from going soft and dreamy.

Ever since you and Bucky figured out where to go with your relationship, he’s been even more attentive and accommodating (and that’s saying something).

You expressed your worry about the possibility of something going wrong, that one or both of you would get bored and leave, or there’d be a big fight that neither of you could forgive. He was quick to reassure you of his commitment, told you there was no way he would ever get bored of you, and that as long as you both promise to talk things out in a calm, mature way, then you’d be alright.

It all sounded so easy when it was put like that. The more you thought about it, though, the more you realized he was right. It wasn’t fair to either of you to already give up before you’d even started. So you’d taken a deep breath and leaped.

Now, you’re five and a half months in, your belly steadily growing and making everyday life increasingly uncomfortable. The changes to your body were physically and emotionally draining, to say the least. Moreso the emotional side. You’d hoped you wouldn’t be one of those pregnant women with strange cravings, and for the most part they were pretty tame, but you do like to dip your sour gummy worms in banana ice cream. Bucky didn’t attempt to hide his disgust over that.

“What did I do to deserve you?” you ask on a pleased sigh.

He places your small cornucopia of goods on the coffee table. You sit up, huffing for breath during the struggle. You go to reach for the ice cream first, but Bucky catches your hand, lacing his fingers with yours and kissing your knuckles as he kneels in front of you.

“You were yourself. Smart, kind, selfless, unbelievably sexy.” You snort at that, but he’s undeterred. “And you’re giving me the best gift I could ever dream of. A family.”

Instantly, you’re crying. He’s grown accustomed to the mood swings by now, taking it in stride as he wipes away the tears with gentle hands.

“Stop being so disgusting,” you blubber through your hiccuping cries. “You’re such an asshole.”

Bucky laughs. “I love you too, sweetheart.”

You sniffle, kissing him. “Love you,” you grumble.

He leans down and plants the softest of kisses to your belly. “And I love you, little lady.”

The idea of you having a child one day always seemed foreign and unlikely, but life has a way of turning out exactly how it’s supposed to… And you wouldn’t change a thing.

#avengers fic #marvel fic #bucky barnes x reader #bucky barnes x you #bucky barnes fic #bucky barnes #bucky barnes imagine #bucky x reader #bucky x you #i can't remember how to tag bye

1K notes · View notes

bnuuyteethh · 3 months

Text

Hi! I'm Bunny and I'm redesigning the whole cast for hazbin hotel

{PLS READ THE WHY SECTION BELOW}

Anyway.... Onto my designs! I'll be detailing the stuff I changed/added

First is.,..!! Sir pentious! Weird right? You would think it's Charlie but uh nah, he's my favorite character and I wanted to make him similar to my tastes.

Yes he is trans! I have a small little HC that the egg boys are his boys...

And he is much longer/bigger due to this because of sexual dimorphism! But we love him for who he is now he's so silly :). He also has a barbed tail that I would say is used as a 5th hand! To grab stuff. He already has 4 arms cause why not? He needs to push himself around already..

Next is.. Angel Dust!, he doesn't have an alt version because I feel it's not needed but here he is!

I added pedipalps, those are the mandible looking things. They are a part of spiders I think are so cool and I wanted to add them! Unfortunately they're not counted as legs and adding another set of legs to angel I couldn't figure out... But good enough!

I also changed his eyes! To include a spiderweb, I'm not entirely sure why he has that black eye, so I thought I would change it up a little bit.

A friend gave an idea that his sight from that eye is kaleidoscope-like so I'm implementing that too! And how could I forget! The spiderbutt! Without it it's kinda weird looking so I wanted to add it in cus it's so cute

Next up.... Husk! He's one of my favorite characters so.. kinda went all out on him

I didn't change much about him besides his patterns and colors, but generally his silhouette is the same!

I wanted to add a lot more feathers and fluff to him! And putting on the casino style bringing back the spades and hearts to his wings again!

I thought the spades were funny

Up next.. Vox!

I found his design interesting that he is a flat screen TV even though he died in the 50's? So I decided to change that! Turning him into a box TV again!

And giving him a cable tail, I thought it would be clever that when sleeps he charges himself up for the day!

Next up... niffty! She's the last character I've designed so far!

Also while looking up her historically accurate date I found out she's 22??? Weird... But yeah she did end up looking a little older here I'm glad, but I really wanted to give her a bigger needle! What's she gonna do with that small thing?

And her dress is based on 50's maid outfits! With the addition of an embroidered poodle!

Why?

Well first I'm crazy and second, I've been now made aware that the show itself does a certain type of representation so disgustingly that I'd rather make my own designs and fix what they couldn't do.

I don't support viv or the show.

If you want to read into it yourself I advise a trigger warning for S/A. It happens in episode 4.

#hazbin hotel #hazbin art #hazbinhotelau #hazbin angel dust #vox #niffty #husk #angel dust #sir pentious #hazbin hotel but i dont support viv or the show so i made my own designs cus ths original are kinda lackluster!!!??#hazbinredesign #charlie coming soon....#my little guys and headcanons #hazbin #hazbin husk #hazbin sir pentious #hazbin niffty #hazbin vox

548 notes · View notes

angelic-dew · 11 months

Note

I. Need. Hentengu. Clone. Smut. Pleaseeeee 😭😭

It is an utter need rn- Can you do it with a fem reader pls?? <3 love your work btw

˚₊‧꒰ pleasure.☆꒱‧₊˚.! || pt. 1/2 !

✧༉‧₊˚୨ 🌿 ୧・author's note :: I dreaded doing this sm i ain't a smut writer. As much as I love these daddies, I can't stop writing for them as well- istg I was up at 2am writing this smh.

✧༉‧₊˚୨ ⚡ ୧・summary + word count :: you find yourself getting frisky with two of your beloved boyfriend until the other two walk in and are greeted by a delightful sight that they also wish to partake in! + 3134 words. smut.

✧༉‧₊˚୨ 🫧 ୧・pairing :: aizetsu, sekido, karaku, urogi x AFAB reader! {she/her pronouns}

✧༉‧₊˚୨ 🪶 ୧・trigger warnings :: smut, gang bang, anal, oral (giving), degradation, poly relationships, daddy kink, cock warming, dirty talk, marking, biting, double penetration, rough sex, face fucking and grammatical errors. Children dni, this is 18+ content.

Things weren't meant to escalate this quickly, in fact, they weren't supposed to escalate at all! It was supposed to be quality time spent with your precious boyfriends, nothing more, nothing less. Surely, they are demons, yes, but they are so close to humans and possessed many human qualities. They knew how to strategize, how to be crafty and of course, how to feel emotion. That's what got you three together anyways, their strong desire and undying love towards you. Their precious (Name).

There you were, in your private chambers as all of you sat nicely on the large futon-styled bedding. You, Aizetsu and Urogi this time were only meant to unwind and talk with each other! nothing more and nothing less had to be added, however, you and your tongue slipped up. You asked a question, "You know, when was the last time we actually had this much time to ourselves? I feel a bit bored now that I think of it." This phrase drove Urogi to the edge, you were correct, it's been absolute ages since you all have had so much time to yourselves, and it's also been quite the time since he's never been able to touch you as he's been wanting to recently.

His mind went crazy as he thought about the thought of his precious (Name) being slumped over his hardened, meaty cock like the previous time; the demon of joy remembered her expressions exactly, almost as if they were ingrained into his mind. He remembered clear as day and it was evident in his glassy, beady, glistening golden eyes that he was up to no good.

Meanwhile, Aizetsu took into consideration your words as well. However, he was much more on the innocent side. He wondered, what could you all do to pass the time? However, Urogi already had a plan set up for that and he knew for sure it was very much effective from past experience.

He shifted his uneasy yet playful gaze towards the demon of sorrow and whispered into his ear. His perfect plan which they can use to pass the time with their beloved human.

Almost instantaneously, a deep, but vibrant cherry-red blush appeared on Aizetsu's mocha cheeks, tinting them with the rosy colour almost perfectly to suit him as he stuttered subconsciously, "A-are you sure about that exactly U-urogi? I mean, I would not want to upset her after all, she might not want it! And we can't force onto our precious treasure!" hints of desperation yet restraint lacing his words.

You tilted your head to the side in utter confusion. Just what were they even going on about, you wondered until you finally spat at them, "Darlings, just what exactly are you two talking about? I don't mean to be nosy, forgive me, but I'm truly curious to know what's wrong." Innocent. That's what you were. You had no idea what was truly going on between the both of them

The two demons looked at eachother then towards you. One was a total blushing mess and one had a certain gleam in his eyes, as if he's been pining and desired this moment before. Just waiting for you to say those words to him. So he can make a deep fantasy of his come true at last! This was given example of taking advantage of the situation.

"Urogi you handle this!" the demon of sorrow said in a flushed tone as the other puffed his chest up and beamed in satisfaction.

"We want to 'play' with you my dear, wouldn't you allow us to do it dear? I'm sure it'd make Aizetsu very pleased," he coaxed, the look of playfulness making sure never to die in his eyes as he spoke; his gaze fixtures on your beautiful body, only earning for him to lick his lips happily at your physique. The poor other demon just covered his face in utter embarrassment at his clone's actions.

You inhaled then exhaled. Taking a good breath.

You thought about it, it's been nearly forever since you showed them some true lovin', who knows how much they've been wanting to feel you again. To touch you. And you couldn't lie, you were also guilty as well, you wanted for them to have their way with you just like all the previous and pleasurable instances. You three have more than enough time as of the present. Why not make up for the lost amounts? After all, what's the harm in it, just another form of quality time.

"Okay, do as you please," you said solemnly, fixing your gaze onto both demons, a sly grin appearing along your face as you do so. They were certainly in for a treat and they weren't complaining.

♡

They fully stripped you away of your pesky garments at this point, and they were so needy. Your clothing had been flung mercilessly on the floor, as for your undergarments? They suffered a worse fate; being ripped clean off of you, only your bare body being exposed for them to look upon. And they won't lie, it surely was missed sight.

Your physique and structure were just alluring making them want you more. They looked upon your breasts, already feeling a burning sensation beneath both of their large, muscular bodies; it was insatiable. Watching almost as if they were mesmerized by how your hair had fallen perfectly in front of your face, only earning a soft, faint, baby-pink blush to tint their cheeks. In pure adoration, their gaze shifted downwards to your wet, gooey cunt that was just as excited as their own massive, meaty cocks that were practically leaking of runny, sticky pre-cum from their thick tips.

The demon of sorrow wasn't exactly what one could depict as melancholy now, he wasn't living up to his name. In fact, he was in utter lust as he looked at his perfect treasure in all of her glory, he needed you so desperately. His member was incredibly hard and stiff, perfect to be in you at this given moment. Just imagining your warm, tight insides needing some loosening after so much time from not being fucked. It was mouth-watering.

Whilst the demon of pure joy felt himself entering the seventh heaven; in utter bliss even and it hasn't even gotten to the best part. Your gorgeous, angelic figure laid out before them was to die for. It was a sight meant for only them and they were surely possessive and territorial over their precious darling.

"C'mon boys, going to play with your slut or what? I thought you'd been awaiting this moment? Don't you want to do as you please? Making me scream; making me say the name of who owns me exactly? Maybe have me do whatever my masters want me to do for them?" you seductively asserted. Knowing they'd snap out of whatever trance they were in from those mere words.

Within moments they pounced on you like wild beasts patiently stalking their prey. Any and all clothing which had been on them was now discarded for they were no longer needed for what they had in store for their pretty little slut.

Aizetsu was certainly the quicker of the two, within an instant he was positioned sitting up as Urogi waited rather impatiently for him to have his fair share of fun. The demon of sorrow picked you up by your thighs with utter ease for his muscular build made it as if he was lifting a feather.

Gradually, he lowered your body onto his lap, his meaty, fat, thick length filling your poor entrance up simultaneously. It went in completely raw and fully hardened, having to force itself into your ass with pure strength just to allow the oozing tip to squeeze itself in. A simple, soft whimper or two emanated from underneath your soft lips as you felt it finally slip into your tight hole. He slowly continued to plant your tensed body onto his length but abruptly stopped and whispered quietly into your ear, "Please relax dear, I don't want it to hurt you."

Acknowledging his words you nodded and took in a few breaths and attempted to cease the tension in your muscles.

He began again, continuing to fill your tight hole up with his member, the length of the whole thing practically too big for you yet you wanted for him to continue. It stretched your warm insides to its heart's content, savoring the delicate warmth and tightness of your hole. Your face became a flushed, rosey, red mess! You timidly shifted your gaze downwards as various soft, sweet, little moans escaped from underneath your filthy lips. Even though it hurt, it was so pleasurable that it overwhelmed the pain, it just felt so good to finally have your ass stretched again. This was the same feeling as last time but better; you were tighter this time, more prone to the pain of it but there came so much delight as well.

Your cries of pleasure filled the room accompanied by Azietsu's faint whispers of encouragement to keep on going, faint words of endearment for you to take his whole length. At last, it was all in. Your insides cradled and gripped around his massive member, it was warm and felt utterly amazing. "A-ahh~ Mmm-" a pleasure-filled cry escaped from under his tongue as he felt your sensitive whole tense up and squeeze around him. God, it felt good, how he missed this.

As the sounds of pleasure filled Urogi's ears, he became even harder than before practically begging to be taken by you and finally, it was his turn to feel away at you, just like how he imagined it. After all, he remembered how his beloved (Name) is. Your tightness could go unmatched by someone else, nothing could ever compare to how warm your precious insides were. Nothing could ever replicate your soft touch. Nothing or anything could compare to how you made him feel for you. How he desired to touch you once more and finally, he was struck with the perfect opportunity.

He wasted no time, using his eagle-like wings to flap himself over towards you and his fellow clone. His length hairy yet somewhat delectable was running with pre-cum from his tip, begging for you to take him completely as the feeling of nothing similar-sized dick brought shivers along your spine. The demon of joy was a tad bit bigger than his sorrowful counterpart. His grith was to die for as you could barely wrap your hand around the full thing. This was perfect.

He grinned like a madman as he used two of those sharp taloned claws of his to your chin and lifted your face up to meet his. The blush that was scattered messily on your face only drove him further. "Be a good girl for daddy now and take me alright? You know what to do, you whore," he said hungrily and more impatient as Aizetsu stayed quiet. Only until you realized and certain wet tongue was running itself slowly along your neck. It caused you to send shivers along your body as well. It was him, himself, your precious lover with the glowing baby blue eyes marking you. It was only playful kitten licks but it began to grow into something much more rougher.

He started biting away at your soft skin. Those sharp, serrated fangs of his deeply gouging themselves into your savory flesh; it drove him wild. Biting until he hit the point where tiny beads of blood began to spill away from your now fresh wound. Licking it away as if it were nothing he starts to suck along your neck playfully, leaving behind deep, passionate yet dark trails of hickeys which are scattered along your neck, some reaching to your collarbone. Low yet pleased hums and groans spill away from your lips.

Urogi can't help but grin in satisfaction from his clone before making sure his gaze is locked on to you. You listen to his words from before and open your mouth widely, stretching it open a bit more just for good measure. You knew how big he was. And loved it.

"That's a good slut, you are just so cute when you listen to daddy you know darling," he chuckled as he now held his thick base within the palm of his hand, his palm acting like a cradle for his impatient member. Slowly, he began to thrust himself into your warm mouth inch by inch. He needed to feel this so badly. After patiently watching and yearning to touch you again, he definitely earned this bit of utter pleasure that you're giving him. Feeling such utter relief he let out a high-pitched but still deep cry of passion and delight that he unnoticeably slipped out. It just felt too good.

He loved the way you made him feel when he was in this state. It brought him such bliss as he felt your moist, wet tongue take in his entire member. It was as if he fell in love with you all over again when he felt you take in all of his meaty goodness and begin to get to work right off the bat with it. Feeling the utterly adoring sensation of your slimy tongue begin to work away with subtle, gentle strokes to his length which gradually got quicker yet still steady in pace. God, he loved you so much, this made the wait worth the while.

Your tongue wrapped itself around his thick length, the best it could, and moved along his base tirelessly and rather eagerly. As if it were hungry, greedy, wanting for him to release the gooey, sweet, creamy treat he had stored within him. As both of your hands made their way up toward his waist, gripping either side firmly. Aizetsu on the other hand was a big fan of the show, a small smile creeping along his face as he watched his clone be sucked off by the shared, beautiful lover.

Jeez, it felt so good, wonderful even but he wanted more; to spice things up and really show you how badly he's been needing you lately. I mean, there's no harm in showing you what he's really made of? It'd be even more pleasurable if he'd do it as well, he knew the feeling of your warm, wet mouth could be irreplaceable. Why not have some fun with it?

His golden eyes came into contact with yours, that same playful gaze being accompanied by some mischief well in his pupils as he placed one of those taloned claws of his on the back of your head. Gripping at your head with all his might, he had a few locks of your hair messily stored within his iron grip. He chuckled deeply before jerking your entire head onto his meaty member with one swift move, causing you to gag when the tip began to slide down your throat due to the force.

"Take it for me you slut," he spoke up, almost like a yell as Aizetsu whispered in your ear softly, "You can do it precious, you know how to make us feel delightful, just keep up with it." How sweet was he? As he now raised his hands up, which were planted on your thighs before, he began to slowly trace them along your figure gently, as if you were made of porcelain. His soft touches linger as he indulges in the utter satisfaction of his cock being snuggled deeply within your tight ass.

Urogi just grinned and forced it in again, this time it went in as planned. His clawed hand still firmly gripped the back of your head and that's when the fun began; he started to thrust and buck his hips slowly into your moist, wet mouth. The satisfaction washing over him 10 fold was unimaginable as he felt your tongue run along his length as he moved repeatedly in and out of your moist carven.

His thrusts became faster, swifter and rougher in pace. He had you gagging repeatedly, over and over, but he didn't care. The more your body forced his member out, the more he desired to have it pushed back in.

The winged demon was utterly mad, his pupils filling with pleasure as cries of pleasure began the escape unnoticeably once more from underneath his now quivering lips. "Oh fuck- that's it baby~ eat up daddy's cock like there's no tomorrow? You're already being such a good girl for me," he teased in between sharp, heavy breaths.

He leaned his head back just a tad bit as waves of contentment washed over him. Urogi's pupils glowed almost hazily as the gentle moonlight crept through the shoji.

His thrusts were becoming more sloppy but still kept its original pace. Your eager and wet tongue hungrily glided along his full length as it kept moving at speeds you felt were too much even for you, but this only made the demon of joy pulse with ecstasy as he started to feel faint twitches in his cock.

"Oi, oi! what's going on here, hm? You two trying to hog all the fun?" all three of your eyes widened. Neither of you said that, but it was a familiar voice. It was high but it had laces of entertainment stored within it, as if it'd been watching all this time.

It could've only been Karaku. Your green-eyed lover, the demon of pleasure and relaxation.

"How long have you been here?" the demon of sorrow spoke up quietly as he buried his face within the crook of your neck, your mouth still full with Urogi's full length.

He let out a small laugh and stepped closer and revealed yet the other demon behind him. The demon of anger, his gaze was cold and filled with fury and irritation. Sekido was watching the show as well, without any of your knowledge. "Long enough to be amused by this, however, you two are despicable. Can't you even see she has needs too? Her cunt is practically drenched," he bellowed, frustration looming through his words.

Playfully, the green-eyed demon added, "Oh, you're right Sekido, mind if we join you two? I bet we could all have so much fun!" It was evident in his voice he enjoyed every moment of what was being bestowed before him.

The winged demon sloppily and roughly thrust his harden, meaty member out of your mouth, a long, gooey string of saliva connecting it to your lips as a remanence of what lewd acts you two just did.

You panted, sharp, heavy breaths escaping from underneath your lips as your mind raced with lustful thoughts which could transpire for the next few hours.

#demon slayer #hantengu #hantengu x reader #demon slayer smut #kny smut #kny x y/n #kny x you #kny imagines #sekido #karaku #hantengu smut #hantengu clones #aizetsu #12 kizuki #urogi

1K notes · View notes

unpretty · 5 months

Note

hey kitty! if its not too boring of a subject for you, do you think you could talk a little bit about how you stay organized at work? i've been doing the bookkeeping at my job for about 6 months and i'm not doing too badly, but i'm still always worried i'll forget to pay an invoice or lose a credit card receipt or whatever. you're the coolest accountant i know, so any tips you have would be awesome. thank you!!

here's an old post i did about office supplies if that interests you

the two big ones for me are

microsoft to-do

ezstax

these are both Brand Names but alternatives that work for you are fine, these are just what work for me

to-do because my job is literally just doing the same things over and over again so i have lists for things i do every day, every week, every other week, every month, and annually. in my first year of employment every time i got assigned a new task i added it to my list and set it to repeat based on how often it got done and by year two i had most of the things. to-do also lets you create a checklist for each list item, and attach files. i keep my really detailed notes on How To Do My Job in OneNote because that's what i used in college so it's what i'm used to, but breaking everything down into checklists is really handy for me when i forget how to perform basic tasks like an amnesiac baby.

particularly because it has the 'my day' feature where everything due that day automatically gets added to your day so if you forget what you're supposed to be doing you just open it up and it's like "hello have you done all these yet". you can also just add things that are just 'tasks' if they're not recurring, so if someone says "can you do thing by time" i'm like "sure" and then i add it to my list.

i'll put the rest behind a cut because this is only relevant if you are working somewhere that still uses paper for every fucking thing. with digital files just add a date to the beginning of every filename when you save it. you will thank yourself later. give files names descriptive enough that later you can just type LEAVE REQUEST FORM in your start menu in a panic and have the correct file pop up. attaching things to your to-do list items can also save you a lot of time.

oh right, pay one time for foxit pdf instead of getting a subscription to do pdf shit. there's probably alternatives but whatever. foxit works fine. foxit is also trying to sell me a subscription but i ignore that.

ezstax are much dumber, they're little plastic things that let you sort all your paperwork into files and then stack them on top of each other instead of having piles of paperwork all over your desk.

sane people use files and file folders for this but i don't put anything into a file folder until i know for sure that something will happen to trigger my taking the item back out of the folder. because i am going to forget. if i forward a copy and am waiting to hear back, the original invoice is not coming back out of the file until i hear back. i already gave you the paperwork. if you need reminders to get it back to me that's a you problem. i'm not getting paid a management salary so i'm not here to tell anyone how to do their job.

(file folders work fine for credit card receipts because i can paperclip them to the folder to make them stay put and then when the statement comes in i know to get the receipts out of the folder. i only in the last year realized that i could put sticky tabs on cardstock and label each piece of cardstock for a different department and paperclip the receipts to that in order to create subfolders in my credit card folder. i felt very clever about this.)

anyway obviously that creates a problem when i have paperwork that i'm supposed to set aside until i do something else. if it's in a file i will not remember it. it will be forgotten, forever. so instead i keep it on a stack in my desk. so every time it's time to do payroll, i grab the payroll stack, and anything i needed to set aside until payroll is sitting there staring me in the face.

same goes for invoices! i get a stack of invoices and i sort them into 'ready to pay' and 'still needs info', and once that's sorted i put my 'still needs info' stack on top of my ready to pay stack so i can sort through it more thoroughly. i send out reminders for purchase orders and set things in a folder to wait until i get my purchase order back, i email vendors for invoices on statements that i never got, etc etc. i keep my inbox empty except for things that i need to take action on so i don't forget about anything i got emailed about. if there's more than ten emails i will start forgetting things and the situation is dire.

#original #boring work stuff

259 notes · View notes

exquisiteserotonin · 9 months

Text

Word Count: 4.5K

Pairing: Joel Miller x Female Reader

Summary: After an altercation Ellie has at school, Joel visits you to have a talk

Warnings: Explicit, 18+ only (MDNI, PLEASE), angst, some violence, coarse language, brief talk of losing children and spouse (if this triggers you), Oral sex (Fem receiving), Squirting, PiV sex, Hurt-Comfort sex, Creampie, no use of y/n

A/N: Not-beta'd. I wrote this very, very quickly a few days ago when I was in some kind of incredibly weepy, hormonal mood or perhaps it was the full moon. Either way, that is why there is so much angst. I wasn't even sure if I wanted to share it today, but here we are. Real tears were shed during the writing of this fic. I'm a wife and a mom, hence why there is talk of reader once having a husband and children (Sorry, if that's not your thing or if you cannot relate). This generally follows canon except that Ellie and Joel are more fully integrated right away to the Jackson community.

Read on AO3

Take My Love, Take it Down

Screams, cries, and murmurs filled the freezing Wyoming air. A sharp pain took hold of your chest, creeping up your neck, and over your back as the sounds reached your ears. It sent you in a wave of memory and panic and was followed by the constant crunching of snow under a few shuffling feet. Clutching your chest, you took a few deep breaths as your charges came running towards you calling out your name. Well, your last name anyway. As their teacher, they didn’t get the privilege of knowing your first name.

“She punched me!” One of your older students cried out as a few of his peers pushed him forward presenting him to you.

You winced as you saw blood streaming down his nose, mixed with cold tears that were falling down his face. Other children watched with intrigue as you pulled a few tissues from your coat pocket, bringing them gingerly to his face, gesturing for him to hold pressure to his nose.

“Who punched you, Carter?” You asked as holding gentle hands to his pale freckled face.

He and several other students pointed in the same direction, fingers towards your new student, Ellie. You saw her standing a few yards away, her coat disheveled, the knees of her jeans scattered with dirt, and her face red from the cold, but also, mostly, from her anger. A sigh escaped you as you put your hands on your hips. Gently, you gestured for your other students to return to recess while asking your assisting teacher to bring Carter inside to clean up.

“Ellie, could you come here please?” You requested, beckoning her over with what you hoped was a welcoming gesture.

“It wasn’t my fault, he started coming at me telling me what I should do and how I should be and I--,” her voice was fast and full of rage and pleading.

“Ellie, stop,” you stated, a natural calm imbued in the tone of your voice, “let me see your hand.”

The last words that fell from your lips must have been the perfect disarmament, since her response was to hold her hand out to you immediately. You pulled another tissue from your pocket and began to wipe away remnants of blood on her knuckles. Upon closer examination, any injuries she may have sustained were minor especially compared to what she had inflicted on Carter.

“Carter can be a little much, can’t he?” you added, keeping your gaze on her. “I’m sure whatever he said or did, you've every right to feel the way you did.”

Her eyes lit up in relief at your words. It was a familiar look that you had seen before from your students. The look that lit up when they thought they were about to get away with something. You stilled yourself, holding back emotions that began to well up within you. It was a familiar look you had seen from your own children.

“But just because someone wronged you doesn’t mean that your automatic reaction should be to hit them.”

“Are you fucking kidding me?” Ellie shouted at you. “This place sucks, with all your peace, love, and harmony shit.”

“Ok, you know what? You need to go inside, Ellie,” you stated, somehow retaining your calm. “In fact, everyone we all need to go inside; recess is over, time to get back to work.”

You waved for your students to line up, while pointing at a space directly in front of you with the expectation that Ellie would take the lead. Begrudgingly, she did, the remainder of the students falling in line behind her.

As you trudged through the snow back to the school house, you turned to Ellie, “I think I’ll have to talk to Tommy or Maria about this.”

“Why?!” She snapped and then added, “Just because they got me in here doesn’t mean they’re family.”

“Well then, I guess I have to talk to Tommy’s brother,” you countered, “Joel, right?”

“Go ahead and do it then,” she retorted, “but he’s not my dad either.”

You shrugged but nodded, listening carefully to her words. You never mentioned anything about him being her dad. You just knew that they’d shown up at the gate and were now the newest residents of your quiet community.

Your one-room classroom buzzed with the chaotically happy energy so often found in a classroom. Thankfully, the rest of the day went without incident. Having students from a very young age to teenagers was not something you were used to. It brought a different kind of chaotic energy that was, at the very least, interesting to observe. The mix of pretend play from your youngest students and the giggling gossip from your oldest students represented life in a world that felt like nothing but death. That’s what everyone told you, anyway.

They didn’t even need to tell you, really. You saw it in their eyes; the way that children and their parents greeted you on the street with their eyes crinkled at the corners with joy and gratitude. It should have made you happy. It made you happy in your life before this. Sometimes you wondered to yourself why you were teaching again. No, most of the time you wondered why you were teaching.

You replayed the memory of how it happened as you walked home.

First Maria asked you.

“No, I don’t think so.”

Then Tommy asked you.

“No, I really don’t think I’m the right person for the job.”

Then Maria and Tommy asked you.

The exhaustion that overcame you from their consistent requests eroded what little resistance you had. Their arguments and evidence were hard to defend against especially since you’d been a teacher and that the children in the community loved you. Out of some strange sense of obligation, you refrained from telling them that each day you were just going through the motions. You were like a robot completing an assigned task. Because doing, thinking, or feeling anything else was just too painful.

You reached your home, a cozy little cottage that was more than enough for you. As you closed the door behind, you felt a tight pain in your chest similar to what you felt this morning. You strangely thought of Ellie, then thought of your boys, then your husband. It rose to your throat and it was suddenly hard to breathe. You rushed to the kitchen, filling a glass with much needed water.

A loud knock on your door had you startled. Grabbing a pistol from a kitchen drawer you made your way to the door. The knock came again.

Looking through the peephole allowed you some relief when you saw a familiar, rugged-faced man, with salt and pepper hair standing at your door. It was Joel Miller, Tommy’s older brother and Ellie’s apparent caretaker. You opened the door, pistol still in your hand.

“Hello, I don’t think you’ll be needin’ that,” he gestured towards your gun, “though I won’t hold it against you if keep it nearby.”

“Oh, yeah, sorry” you nodded, “force of habit—please come in.”

You gestured for him to have a seat at a small round dining room table. You placed your gun away in a nearby drawer, observing Joel as he looked around your house. You winced as his eyes settled on a photo of you, your husband, and two children. Reluctantly, after his brief overview of your home, he moved towards your dining room table.

“You’re probably wonderin’ why I’m here,” he said, taking a seat and spreading his legs in a way that you could only describe as hyper-masculine.

You clenched your teeth beneath tightened lips as it spurred inexplicable feelings discomfort and disgust. They prodded at you simply because you had noticed.

“Surprised, yes,” you said, trying to hide the trembling in your voice,“but I think I know why.”

“Ellie gave that boy a bloody nose.”

There was something in his voice, in that Texas drawl that sounded almost like…pride.

“Yes, I know, I was there,” you acknowledged in exasperation, “I’m sure she had her reasons but I don’t think it warranted violence, Mr. Miller.”

“Joel,” he corrected, “I agree, but you have to understand where she’s comin’ from, ma’am.”

“Alright, Joel, can I get you some water?” you offered. “Please don’t call me ma’am, it makes me feel old.”

You gave him your first name along with a glass of water.

“Ellie’s been through a lot,” his voice was hushed and gravel-like as he gave his excuse, “you can’t hold it against her for tryin’ to stand up for herself.”

“Joel,” you said calmly, tapping into the part of your brain where you held the voice you used when talking to parents at conferences, “we’ve all been through a lot here, doesn’t give us the right to start punching people in the face.”

“You don’t know how good you’ve got it, though,” he continued, incredulously, “sittin’ pretty in your perfect little town, with your perfect little job, in your perfect little house---you don’t really know what’s out there right now.”

“What?”

Your hands began to tremble at the words, traveling up your arms, to your neck. It was as though someone lit a burner inside you and your blood was the fuel. Red and hot, like living lava from the volcano of you, it threatened to erupt.

“You haven’t seen the things that I’ve seen,” he grumbled, standing up to pace around your home, his right hand trembling, “or done the things I’ve done.”

“What do you want a medal ‘cuz you’ve smuggled shit and killed some people in the process?” you scoffed and advanced on him. “You know, you roll up in here, saying you’re here for family and you come in to my house, Ellie’s teacher’s house, making excuses for her to bash another child’s face in and you expect me to give you sympathy because you’ve got people’s blood on your hands that you chose to spill?”

“I did what I had to survive,” his voice grew in volume as you stepped closer to him, “and I’m teaching Ellie to do the same.”

“And I am doing exactly the same thing,” you growled at him.

The way his left eye twitched and the way he moved his jaw told you that he wasn’t expecting that answer. Beyond your control, you felt tears start to sting the corner of your eyes. A sudden feeling of helplessness and shame overcame you as felt the sudden urge to explain yourself to a man you had only known in passing for a few days.

“I’m not stupid, Joel; Maria and Tommy are my friends, my good friends,” you spoke, not moving from where you stood. “I know what you lost and I know you know…”

The hatred you felt for yourself amplified as the tears fell freely from your eyes. Your view of Joel was blurry from your tears as you tried to find your words again.

“I know you’re not stupid, I saw you looking at my photos, so you know what I’ve lost,” your lips trembled and stumbled at every word. “I have nightmares all the time and I see them--and how I had to l-leave my, my boys.”

A broken shell of you was all that was left. Maybe Joel was right, maybe you were just a broken shell in a perfect town, with a perfect job, in a perfect house. All of it perfect from the outside, but none of it real. You drew your hands to your face trying to stop the tears from falling from your eyes as Joel stared back at you. You spotted a flinch here and there as he tried to gather the knowledge to comfort you.

“I’m sorry, I--,” he said as he reached a tentative hand towards you, but you shook your head and finally took a step away from him.

“This is how I’m trying to survive, Joel, to try to make things better, but I’m just---just fucking it all up,” you said through tears. “Everyday, I’m doing this job that your brother begged me to do and everyday I wake up and it’s never real. And these kids, they’re depending on me and asking me to help them with the simplest things and I can’t; my chest hurts and I can’t breathe, and I fuck up, and I fail, and I lose everything.”

The tears were falling so freely now that you can’t even see Joel. All you heard is how loud the silence is, louder than the tears and labored breaths that are escaping from you. You tried to mumble something unintelligibly to Joel. An apology. An explanation. But you’re certain it just comes out in even messier sobs. The next sound that floats to your ears is the creaking of your floor beneath Joel’s booted footsteps as he moves towards you and unexpectedly grabs you by the arm to wrap you in the tightest embrace that you’ve felt in the longest time.

Tears stained his leather jacket and shirt as you cry into his chest. He spoke nothing. His comfort came in the rise and fall of his chest as he breaths, in the way that he somehow manages to understand to caress the back of your head and your hair, and in the way that his hands rub your shoulders as he squeezes you tighter as if doing so might somehow expel some of your pain. And somehow it did, if only just a little bit. It was enough to allow you to wrap your arms around his waist in return. Your hands explored his back, rubbing up and down to give him back some of the comfort he had given you.

Everything is still dark behind your closed eyes that are still buried in his shirt. With one quivering exhale, you managed to look up to find him looking back at you. His eyes that were tight with stoicism and anger when he stepped through the threshold of your door had changed. Round, soft, deep brown, and glossy with the onset of tears. You knew them like an old friend because they were just like yours, because they’d seen the same horror and felt the same pain. You took your hands from his waist and cautiously brought them towards his face, learning more with your eyes before he gave you the slightest nod as a form of permission. With your fingers, you gently caressed the wrinkles on his forehead tracing down to his temples until you wiped away the tears that had managed to escape from the corners of his eyes. You held your hands at his cheeks, keeping hold of his gaze with your own. He brought his hands to grip yours, rubbing his thumbs on your wrists before his fingers met your forearms with a touch that was beginning to awaken something inside you.

“I reckon we’re more alike than we are different,” his words were a cathartic confession.

You nodded, uncertainty still circling around you as you caressed his face and began to lace your fingers in his dusty-colored hair. It seemed to be all the permission he needed to dive forward to kiss you as he held your face gently in his hands. But you needed more, as quickly as he had moved in to kiss you, you began to peel his jacket off his broad shoulders, throwing it on a chair at your dinner table. A determined, almost dangerous stare filled his eyes as he discarded the flannel shirt beneath his jacket. You pulled off your sweater and blouse in one skillful move, tossing it without a worry as to where it landed. You were left standing before him only in your jeans and bra.

An obvious hunger had taken over you both, as he lunged at you grabbing you by the waist and pulling you in for a kiss less chaste than the last. Your lips held onto each other, tongues exploring and tasting each other through the remnants of salty tears. You hooked your hands into his belt loops, grabbing him by his ass to push his hips towards yours, feeling his cock beginning to twitch and harden with need.

“Bedroom,” you commanded breathlessly.

He nodded and then lifted you as you leveraged yourself against his chest and shoulders as you wrapped your legs around his waist while he kept his mouth on yours. He threw you on the bed, eliciting a quiet yelp as you bounced on the firm mattress. You shifted yourself further up the bed as he crawled towards you. Pushing yourself up to your knees you moved towards him pulling him to you by his shirt with desperation.

“You’re wearing too many clothes,” you sighed, gently pulling it over his head.

He smiled and let out a breathy chuckle. It was the first time you’d seen him smile since the moment he reunited with Tommy when he and Ellie first arrived in town. This was different, of course: a little playful and a little dirty and something you hoped, at least in the moment, was just for you.

“Sorry, y’know it’s winter,” he chuckled again as his lips were back on you.

His hand cupped your breast and then his mouth traveled to your shoulder. You lowered your back to the bed, allowing him to come down with you, his arms pushing himself up on either side of you to get a better view for him to admire your body with his eyes. With a gentle touch of your finger nails, you caressed his forearms and triceps. Your eyes studied the broadness of him and how his chest looked especially strong as he propped himself over you.

“I’m gonna apologize, ya know, before we---,” he warned quietly, “it’s been a little while.”

“I reckon we’re more alike than we are different,” you whispered, repeating the words he spoke moments before he kissed you.

Faster than you could think, he was on you again, somehow expertly unclasping your bra as he rolled with you in your bed sheets. You helped him unbuckle, unzip, and pull off his jeans, laughing as he clumsily kicked them off with his boxers somewhere on your carpeted bedroom floor. With an involuntary bite of your lip, you admired his large, uncut cock as he moved towards you, this time helping you unbutton and unzip your jeans. You lifted your hips as he slid your jeans from them, taking your underwear with them tossing them on the floor to join his.

You stared at each other for a few moments, drinking in the view of each other’s bodies, maybe even holding a picture of it in your head to keep as a memory to hold on to forever.

“You sure ‘bout this?” He asked, giving you one more chance to make a smarter, level-headed decision.

“Joel, please,” you implored, your fingers dancing in his hair, “I need this, need you.”

He brought his face close to yours, first pressing his lips to your forehead in a sweet kiss before giving you an equally gentle kiss on your lips. Everything else he did with his mouth however, was anything but sweet and gentle. He led with his tongue, first at your neck and then between the valley of your breasts until he tasted each one, swirling his tongue around the pebbled surface, lightly biting at them with his teeth. The anticipation of where his tongue was leading left you panting. The softness of his lips paired with the coarseness of his mustache and facial hair was the perfect contradiction. Your breath hitched as he kissed your mound, stopping there long enough for you to panic about what he would do next.

“Joel, is everything ok? Is there…is there something wrong?” You propped yourself up on your elbows to look down at him.

“Not at all, sweetheart,” he murmured his voice full of marvel like he’d seen a dream, “just admirin’ the view.”

You smiled and before you could say anything else, his mouth was on you. You closed your eyes and threw your head back, as he worked on you first with a broad lap of his tongue through your folds. He works through them at a torturous pace, pitiful moans echoing through your quiet bedroom. And then he moved faster as he savored you, finding your clit poking at it first with a pointed tip of his tongue until he took it between a tight purse of his lips, sucking on it furiously until you cried out for him to give you more. He swiped a few more heavy stripes down your folds until his lips are on your clit again, sucking and humming, the vibrations making your already sensitive center weepingly wet.

“Oh god, god, Joel,” you moaned, your hands grasping at his hair, “I haven’t felt this good in so long.”

You cried out incoherently as he chuckled and returned his attention to your clit, maneuvering two fingers in and out of you as his lips continue to suck and vibrate on the most sensitive part of you. He continued to move his fingers in and out of your folds at an agonizingly fast pace. You whimpered helplessly, crying out his name over and over as he worshipped your cunt like his own personal idol. The pressure from his mouth intensified on your clit as his fingers pulsed in and out, in and out until you cried out seeing stars. A hot gush of liquid came out of you covering his face and hand, dripping onto your ass and onto the sheets beneath you.

“Shit…fuck, Joel, Joel!” You wail, clutching at the sheets from your orgasm.

He let go of your clit with a gentle kiss that makes your body jolt from overstimulation. Your body was still writhing from your climax, your breaths were still fast as you tried to bring yourself down. Opening your eyes, you lay in a misty daze as Joel crawls towards you, wiping his face and facial hair with the tips of his fingers and the pad of his thumb, taking one last lick of your essence. You hadn’t seen anything so erotic in years and you pulled him close, your chests pressed together as you took him in a long and sensual kiss.

“Oh sweetheart, we made a little mess,” he growled as he positioned himself over you.

“I--I forgot I could do that,” you said, still coasting on the high of your last orgasm.

Joel breathed out with a low and sexy, but at the same time sheepish. You looked at him, seeing his cheeks slightly pink with a mixture of pride and humility.

“Glad I could help you remember,” he replied with a smirk,that quickly changed into a heavy groan as you pumped his girthy cock. “Fuck sweetheart.”

“Need to feel you inside me, Joel,” you pleaded, bucking your hips up to his.

“Yes, baby,” he grunts as you wrap your leg around his thigh.

With a sudden urge you sat up and held him close, kissing him fervently and rolling over him so that his back was on the bed. Your fingernails gently scratched his expansive chest as you straddle him. His eyes gleamed with anticipation that evolved into pure pleasure as you lowered yourself down onto his cock, unable to keep from moaning with the feeling of him stretching you. You bounced on his cock and grind on him with the tightest of circles.

“Oh, fuck, Joel you feel so good,” you cried, your pussy fluttering with each bounce.

“Come on, baby,” he groaned as he started to buck his hips up into you with the same rhythm of your bounce. “Keep ridin’ me, you feel so good.”

Moans and slaps of your skin are all that fills the air in your room. You grabbed at his thighs, feeling ecstasy with each bounce. To your surprise he sat up and grabbed you by the waist, thrusting into you and rolling you over so he’s back on top. For a brief moment, his cock left you and you felt suddenly empty. He settled over, pushing your bent legs up towards your chest. The pad of his thumb easily found your clit again and with a few slaps of his cock at your folds, he was pushing into you again. His hips rocked into you in a new found depth and pace as his thumb continued to circle your bundle of nerves. In this position he felt even wider than he had before and your heart and mind raced with each desperate thrust Joel made. That magic feeling began to will within you again as Joel’s pace became faster and faster.

“Fuck, sweetheart, I don’t think I can hold on much longer,” he growled through thrusts, grabbing your hips tightly and angling them upward.

“Oh god, Joel, please, baby,” you cried, knowing you were right there with him. “Take what you need, baby, please take what you need.”

Neither of you could speak anymore. You’d evolved into an orchestral union of bodies, reaching out for each other and crying out each other's names with each grind, push, and thrust. And like dying stars, you exploded together in your orgasms, crying out praise and gratitude for it all and each other. The way his cock pounded in and out of you so easily and how it mingled with your sticky sweetness took you away for a moment. You began to shake uncontrollably and pulled his face close to yours.

“Oh fuck---I, sweetheart---” was the last thing he moaned before looking to you for a final answer to a question unspoken.

“Come inside me, Joel, it’s OK,” you assured, shaking as he gave one, two, three more thrusts to fill you up with him before he whimpered into the crook of your neck.

You collapsed together on your bed, a tangle of heavy breaths and intertwined limbs. For the longest time, you bathed together in your naked silence, pulling up your quilted comforter over your bodies that were starting to get a little cold from the tiniest bit of winter air that you could feel through the walls.

Through closed eyes you listened to Joel’s heartbeat through his chest where you had rested your head. He had taken your hand and rested it there, gently caressing it with his. More little comforts came to you in the form of him nuzzling your hair with his cheek and kissing your forehead. You could fall asleep like this, but being awake was more fulfilling in every possible way.

“Hey,” you heard his voice whisper as he caressed your hair and then your shoulder, “you asleep?”

“No,” you murmured, waiting and wondering about his next words.

“I’m sorry about Ellie,” he apologized.

“Mmm, it’s okay,” you replied and then added, “just give her time, she’ll find her way.”

Heart beats and deep breaths and caresses between words.

“I think so,” Joel’s voice was rough but more resolved than how he had spoken when he came to your door, “I think with your help, she will.”

You smiled, feeling tears again slip from the corners of your eyes, a cleansing exhale leaving from your lungs. “Thank you for the vote of confidence.”

He shifted, squeezed your shoulder, and brushed your hair out of your face until you were looking up at him.

“Hey, baby,” he said softly and then kissed you, his fingers caressing your skin, “you take what you need.”

#pedro pascal character fanfiction #pedro pascal fandom #pedro pascal characters #joel miller #joel miller fanfiction #joel miller smut #joel miller x reader #joel miller x you #the last of us #the last of us hbo #juice bar collective #juice collective

309 notes · View notes

laylajeffany · 17 days

Text

Llama, Llama Baby Drama | Wenclair One-Shot for @based7100

Summary: Enid gets an emergency call to babysit on a date night. When Wednesday shows up with intentions of having it anyway, they have a much-needed conversation about their future. (separate from my established Wenclair universe in CftF or Black Menagerie) WC: 4,979 (STILL UNDER 5K OKAY) Rated: All Ages

trigger warning: a baby

Prompted by @based7100, "Wednesday and Enid having the do you want kids talk" as part of my >5k writing (post-taxes) challenge

“Why is it sticky?” Wednesday asked with a grimace as Enid tickled the baby that was perched on her hip. The infant gave a loud squeal of laughter that drew a deeper cringe from Wednesday at the sudden pitch.

“She is sticky because she just ate, and I didn’t want you breaking and entering and setting off the home alarm! You’re lucky I have werewolf hearing, otherwise I would have made you be the one to settle her down.” Enid said with a smile of exasperation, opening the door wider, allowing Wednesday entry to a townhouse. Enid pressed buttons on a keypad when Wednesday came into the doorway of the space with some agitated trepidation. Monsters, serial killers – entering the lair of either would’ve brought her glee, but entering the space of an eight-month-old was like being dropped into a hostile landscape without adequate preparation.

She noted Enid in her stocking feet and untied her boots, staring up at Enid and the little she with unblinking eyes, attempting to assert her dominance in the small person’s home. Enid just rolled her own and gave Wednesday a peck on the cheek as she stood tall again, clutching her backpack strap. Enid looked at the entryway clock and added, “I’m going to get her cleaned up – it’s close enough to time – I’m going to get her in the bath if you wanna just make yourself comfortable! You’re like, forty minutes early, so don’t blame me that you’re bored!” The baby stuck her entire fist into her mouth, gurgling while a trail of saliva slipped her all the way down to her elbow. Again, Wednesday was sure she made a face, unable to help her disgust.

Make yourself comfortable was quite a loaded statement, as Wednesday didn’t have a portable bed of nails handy. She and Enid had their third Saturday night date cancelled in a row; the last minute “emergency” babysitting request coming through from a Normie family she’d made friends with in Jericho (really, Wednesday considered grandma falling down the stairs more of a coming of age event than an emergency) dampening a makeup date from a makeup date. Unable to tolerate three weeks in a row of a Saturday night without her girlfriend, Wednesday had cautiously accepted the invitation to come over after the baby was in bed. The child’s mother had said that was acceptable – and though she feared becoming a 80s movie babysitter cliché of making out on the couch while there was a killer outside, she’d taken the chance as the next week was supposed to be just as busy for the seniors at the end of their school year as they’d all been. (It was unlikely the house had a landline for anyone to ask if Enid had checked on the baby, anyway.)

Enid disappeared with her down the hall, using a different tone in her voice than usual to talk to the baby, who obviously couldn’t comprehend what she was saying regardless of her cadance. Staring after them for a long minute, Wednesday gave a tiny blink and took a look around – finding a stereotypical portrait of a family sitting in a field of leaves with their infant from the fall. The picture-perfect matchy-matchy white, suburban American aesthetic completely draining her before she even properly entered the home.

Exiting the foyer into the living area, she recoiled a touch at the explosion of color and plastic toys. Wishing she’d brought Thing to put him to work, she thought about perching herself on the edge of the wooden rocker in the room, not touching anything when she realized – if she didn’t pick up the toys while Enid was picking up the baby, it would just be that much longer before they’d be able to sit together on the plush loveseat under the window.

Wednesday let out a silent sigh, dropping her shoulders, taking a sharp glance around trying to figure out the organizational method when she realized – there wasn’t one. Unable to tolerate such a disaster, she began sorting the toys into piles, little rubbery blocks with forever chemicals laced into them together, tiny plastic people that probably had lead in the paint, and stuffed animals that had polyurethane filling which would outlive them all.

She found a few collapsible baskets that had never been put together near a stack of unopened mail on a bench, keeping everything separate as she got it off the floor. She rolled up the blankets, then went so far as to wipe down the tabletop when she couldn’t identify the crusty material that was gathered on top, using a deplorable smelling baby wipe.

It seemed like Enid at least hadn’t been forced to make anything for the baby, as there was just a spoon and a little plate in the sink and cleaning off the high chair tray. (Wednesday could handle blood spatter, entrails, and digging through bones, but honestly – the mush and droll were going to push her over the edge.) After putting everything that seemed dirty in the dishwasher, Wednesday followed the sounds of splashing and giggles to the bathroom down the hall.

Enid was on her knees in front of a tub, where the baby was in some sort of special seat. Not sure if she needed to avert her gaze for privacy, Wednesday almost disappeared but Enid shook her head, “You can come in! It’ll be a few minutes. Bailey loves to play in the water!”

Bailey. That was surely, the name of a dog, not a human child. Certainly – not an adult someday who needed to enter the workforce someday.

Avoiding yet another dramatic sigh out her nose, Wednesday hovered, her arms crossed as she stared the child down, who dropped her silly little face full of joy at the leer. Bailey frowned severely, suddenly – and Wednesday took the cue to leave, wandering into the baby’s nursery.

The room was surprisingly neutral, which Wednesday did appreciate with the lack of stereotypical pink. The baby’s crib was simple, and though Wednesday might’ve joked about smothering Enid in her sleep the first day they’d met, she knew that it was important to just keep a fitted sheet on so the baby didn’t manage to do so to themselves. There was a second rocking chair – a glider, in the corner, a small bookshelf, overflowing with titles, a dresser that seemed to be doubling as a changing table, based on the diapering supplies, and a few unopened boxes of toys that she probably wasn’t developmentally prepared to play with stacked in the corner. The walls had simple wooden, cut-out letters that read the girl’s name, and three photos above the dresser of her with the family, a few peel-and-stick bunnies at her eye-level beneath them.

Wednesday squatted down to examine the child’s literature selection, shaking her head in disapproval. How did they expect to raise a well-rounded child if she lacked the classics? There wasn’t a Homer, Miguel de Cervantes, Shakespeare, Stephen King, or even a single Orwellian novel on display. Her own father had been sure to get through all of the works of Poe and War and Peace before Wednesday had even left the womb!

Pulling out a few titles that didn’t sound horrendous, Wednesday shook her head at the modern children’s literature; thinking it was a damn shame that some of the best sellers clearly had no concept of rhythm. What a chore some of the books would be to have to read aloud, a near burden and waste of a tree’s time on earth.

She sat in the glider with a stack, ready to provide Enid with what she hoped would be interpreted as a humorous, critical review of some of the books, when her girlfriend came in with the baby all wrapped up in a towel, cheeks rosy – but significantly cleaner. “Forgive me, baby Bailey – I was so rude not to properly introduce you. This is Wednesday. Don’t mind the glare, that’s her friendly one.”

Wednesday was about to start her joke reception of Brown Bear, Brown Bear but Enid kept talking. She took out a yellow onsie with ducks on it, placing Bailey on her back on the changing pad, giving that same high, fake voice that was just so grating, even from someone she loved. “Okay, sweet baby – let’s get all dry…yeah, we’ll dry your little feet-feet-feet,” The baby kicked and laughed while Enid kept going, rubbing the towel along her. “And your legs-legs-legs,” She shifted into sing-song, “And your belly-belly-belly, and your arms-arms-arms…”

It went on for so long. Wednesday just continued to watch the spectacle, as she started with a disposable diaper and then worked her into the front-zipper pair of baby pajamas. “All done!” She waved her hands in a way that Wednesday knew was sign-language, and the baby copied it. Enid kissed her all over her face, making Baily whirl in happy sounds and Wednesday was sure, she was glowering, unable to help her jealousy – even if it was a baby she was being paid to watch getting Enid’s physical and emotional attention.

Finally, Enid completed the scene, looking at Wednesday with a seriously sort of expression. “We’re almost done. Can you hang in there?” She asked, using nearly the same voice that she had for the baby. Practically growling, she was about to stand up, when Enid developed an evil sort of twinkle in her eye and came forward, depositing Bailey suddenly onto Wednesday’s lap. Thankfully – she had some sort of protective instinct, and her reflexes kicked in before she could let the baby fall backwards. She went to make a snide, argumentative comment, but Enid just wasn’t having it. “Start reading to her, I’ll make her bottle, and we can be done in half the time.”

“Enid – I can’t –!?”

“Read?” She teased sassily, putting her hands on her hips, perching a brow. “Nice try. Here, she loves this one,” She reached down to a paperback (the very feeling of the thin cardboard cover making Wednesday’s skin crawl) with a worried looking farm animal on top.

Before she could protest again, Enid adjusted Bailey more in Wednesday’s lap, putting her back closer to her chest. Bailey looked at Wednesday with as much certainty as she returned, looking like she was about to cry. “Start reading and she’ll totes be fine.”

“Enid, I swear –”

At the empty threat, Enid dashed out of the room and down the hall. Wednesday let out a breath, grumbling, “Llama, Llama, Red Pajama…creative. Endlessly, creative.”

With a sigh, she started to read and Bailey settled at the familiar rhyme. Wednesday followed through, managing to go for the first few pages until she read, “Llama, Llama, red pajama feels alone without his mama. Baby Llama wants a drink…oh, no. No, no, no. This Llama is playing games with his caregiver and she needs to ignore him before she develops horrific behavior cycles that take years to break. Next thing she knows, she’s going to have nine-year-old llama walking in on mama and dada llama fornicating and traumatizing him like Pugsley because they never put an end to his bedtime drama. Oh, llama, drama – I suppose that’s nearly clever.”

Sighing, she flipped through the pages to find that indeed, the mother gave into the child’s tantrum and Wednesday snapped the book shut. Reaching into a stack, she pulled out another title. “Fine, Corduroy. At least Lisa understands that the value of something doesn’t lay necessarily in the perceived perfection of it, but in what it means to the individual. This is a better message for you to internalize.”

With that, she found herself actually gliding the chair back and forth, starting and finishing the story. Bailey yawned and gave a clap at the end, looking up at Wednesday, squeezing her hands open and shut.

Enid gave an amused chuckle from the doorway, shaking a bottle. “It’s right here, sweet girl.” Bailey kicked her little feet and reached her hands for it. Enid gave her the bottle and she held it with one hand, using the other to twirl at her own, light-brown hair as her eyes instinctively went half shut, but turned back to the book. Wednesday tried to hand her over, but Enid winked. “I think you’ve got this. Look, she’s relaxing on you!”

“I don’t like this,” Wednesday grumbled, but didn’t fight it too hard, not wanting to make the baby choke. In general, she wasn’t about to be the good Samaritan to help somebody experiencing that in public, as it seemed like a solid natural consequence, but she didn’t want to be the reason that Enid lost her babysitting gig. (She stubbornly refused to always allow Wednesday to pay for things and insisted on odd jobs around town to make her own money.)

“You’re doing great,” Enid promised, kneeling at her side, putting a hand on Wednesday’s knee. “It’s good to challenge yourself to do things that make you uncomfortable.”

She flickered her gaze down to the hand on her knee, wishing it were elsewhere on her body… “Give me another book,” She demanded as the baby was practically guzzling her bedtime bottle.

With two more selections (far better choices for her interest level of reading aloud to an infant – though she swore, if she ever ended up coming again, she’d bring some proper literature), Wednesday closed the third story up and looked at Enid, who was looking at her with…

…fondness? Desire? She couldn’t quite read the emotion. As the baby finished, Wednesday passed her over to Enid, where she curled instinctively into her neck, holding onto her shoulder with a contented sigh. Watching the sight herself for a long moment, she started to feel a strange discomfort and took the empty bottle, excusing herself as Enid started to pat her back and rock her to sleep.

With simple deduction in the kitchen that the bottle required to be hand-washed, Wednesday completed the task, then found Enid’s phone on counter. Unlocking it and logging into her own account for a food delivery application, she placed an order for a local favorite that was still open at the evening hour, and wrote threatening instructions not to knock or ring the bell. If that baby woke once it was placed in the crib, so help her…

It was hardly ten minutes later that Enid stepped out of the room with a little monitor in her hand, placing it on the end table that had little rubber bumpers on the corners, giving a stretch and a yawn before looking at the stiff-sitting Wednesday fondly.

“Hey,” She greeted, plopping herself down on the loveseat, turning right into her.

“Howdy,” Wednesday spoke in reply. “Is the small gremlin asleep?”

Rolling her eyes again, Enid put a hand on Wednesday’s cheek, turning it towards her to press a long, sweet kiss on her lips. “She’s out. Thanks to your help. I appreciate it.”

“I have been told I have a soothing reading voice,” Wednesday spoke of herself, squaring her shoulders a little bit. “I would still prefer to have been at the steakhouse and then stargazing in the cemetery with you, though.”

“I know,” Enid wrinkled her nose. “I’m sorry. I’d usually say no to a same day request – but nana in the E.R. is a pretty valid reason. Imagine poor Bailey stuck there with them all night? She’d have been miserable.”

“You seem to do a good job at keeping her happy. I claim she’s still sticky, though.”

“Wednesday, she’s a baby,” Enid gave a tired chuckle, leaning back on the couch, intertwining their hands. “Thank you for being willing to even come over. I thought you might give me the silent treatment tonight.”

“I considered it,” She said honestly. “But…with time fleeting from us so quickly these days, only a month left until graduation – it seems prudent to spend as much time together as we possibly can, even if it includes minors.”

“Hopefully it’s a one-time thing. I told Bailey’s mama when I got here, I think that emergencies-pending, I’m tapping out for the rest of the year. There’s way too much fun left to be had and I don’t want to regret missing out for cash.”

“As I have repeatedly insisted, it is unnecessary. But I understand the desire to be productive and contribute to capitalism in your own way. I do hope you told her, she’s not allowed to have any emergencies next weekend.”

Giving almost a purr of a sound, Enid traced Wednesday’s jaw. “Not when I’ve convinced you to be my date to the Dark Prom.”

“As if I’d let you go alone,” Wednesday let out a little breath through her nose. “I’ve ordered dinner, so we can still have a touch of our date tonight as well.”

“Thank you,” Enid said quietly, kissing her again. “Hey…while we wait for that…let’s chat, since the topic is indirectly here, anyway.”

At the sound of sincere need for a challenging conversation, Wednesday’s defenses immediately went up. “Or I could pull you onto my lap and have you put your tongue in my mouth.”

“Well, I’m going to do that, anyway,” Enid giggled, straddling her to prove the point, giving her a long kiss. Thinking she was off the hook, Wednesday went to slide her hands along her back, just above her hot-pink pants, when Enid caught them and brought them together near her chest, pushing a kiss to her fingers. “We should talk.”

“We should keep doing that.”

“I’m serious,” Enid said quietly. “Look, I love you, so much. But – you’ve been very clever and used incredible evasive tactics each time we’ve tried to have a chat on any sort of serious front like the one that we really need to.”

Feeling trapped, Wednesday’s heartrate doubled in speed and she had to exercise every molecule of self-restraint she had not to shove her girlfriend to escape the situation. “I know, you’re not afraid of anything, but the future…it’s nerve wracking to think about. And, unfortunately – it’s really only a month away. I love you. I know that I love you, and I know that you love me, too. But we do need to start talking about what we want in life beyond just that we love each other. For your mom and dad, it was so easy – as they graduated Nevermore, they just ran off on trips and quests and got married and had more fun than they knew what to do with. We already know that our lives are going to be different than that. So…I just want to talk about that, a little bit – before we makeout anymore, okay?”

“Enid…” Wednesday tried to avoid her gaze. “I didn’t come over her to make things difficult, I thought since you would put the baby to sleep by seven-thirty, we could just spend time together-”

“We are. We will. But…Wednesday – do you want to have babies with me someday?”

Feeling like the springs in the couch cushions had just given out, popped her off and through the roof – Wednesday knew the color drained right out of her face, her eyes glazed over and when no words could form in her throat –

“Hey, hey…” Enid put her hands on her cheeks, snapping her awareness back. She pushed a sweet kiss to Wednesday’s lips and tilted her head. “Stay with me. I think that I’ve got my answer.”

“I didn’t say anything!” Wednesday responded with far more hostility than she needed to.

“Okay, okay…” Enid lifted her hands up in defense and sighed. “I’m sorry. That was so not a good way to lay that out there. But I’ve been trying to ask you more direct questions for months and you always avoid them, Wednesday. It’s frustrating! I want to plan for the future, and I want a future with you. I just want to know what that means.”

Wednesday swallowed thickly, trying not to feel overwhelmed and guilty. Her pulse was throbbing in her ears, her palms were sweaty –

“I told my mother that I would never be like her. I would never be a housewife, or a mother.”

There was a flicker on Enid’s face. Barely there, but obvious to the girl who knew her the most, who knew her the best, who loved her more than she’d ever thought possible.

“I mean, we’d be working, no doubt,” Enid said through a bubble of barely concealed emotion. “I can’t see you ever just wanting to sit about at home, and even if you were, you’d be writing or composing music or solving contracted murder cases, for sure…”

Cutting off her ramble as guilt was the next emotion that she started to experience, Wednesday hated how her harsh could snap out Enid’s light so quickly, even when she tried to hide it. “I…didn’t mean…Enid, when you just throw these things at me, I’m bound not to have an eloquent speech planned.”

“Well,” Enid shrugged, biting her lip. “We’ve talked about being married. That it might be possible for us. Just know – I’m open to having a family with you. Whether that’s us and a disembodied hand and a one-eyed cat, or us and a little…human-person, you know, I’m open to it. Just so you know.”

Getting a little lost in her comment, Wednesday popped a questioning brow. “Why would the cat only have one eye?”

Enid recoiled a little. “You seriously think you’d have a normal pet? Be real, Wednesday. The one-eyed cat would be a sign that he’s a street fighter. That’s way more your style than a cuddly, perfect Persian.”

Wanting to acknowledge the other part of Enid’s sentence, she found words locked in her throat again. She gave a shrug and balled her hands into fists at either side of Enid’s ankles on the couch.

“We know we have the next four years together, so like – this isn’t a convo that has to happen right now, I guess. I’ve just…read, that the longer a couple takes to talk about their wants and desires for the future, the more challenging it is if those things are different from one another. I don’t want things to be challenging with you. I love you. And I want to know – your wants, so that…I can prepare myself for making them happen.”

She leaned forward and initiated a kiss and Wednesday immediately felt her heart rate drop. After letting it go on long enough that her hair was a little messy in the back from Wednesday’s wandering hands, Enid pulled away with a wink, wanting to check the baby monitor. “Oh, she’s out. I had her outside until just before she needed dinner. The fresh air always does that.”

Just as Wednesday was about to try and tug her in for more affection, an alert on Enid’s phone indicated that the food had arrived. She deactivated and reset the alarm after securing it in her hands. “It’s no steak, but carne asada will totally do instead of whatever frozen post-partum diet food Bailey’s mama has in the freezer. Ick.”

Wednesday rolled her eyes. “A mother feeling pressure to return to her pre-pregnancy size is such a horrific societal pressure that needs to be popped.”

Enid brought them plates and forks, giving an approving sigh. “I know, right? Like – you just grew a whole-ass human! Give yourself a minute, mama – you just performed a miracle, and you should appreciate your body.”

Biting back a comment befitting her father of appreciating Enid’s body, Wednesday thanked her for the dinnerware and served them, listening to Enid blather about how excited she was for the following weekend and all the songs she hoped the DJ would play, singing a few dramatically to remind Wednesday of how they went (as if she could forget the earworms).

After taking care of the dishes and putting the leftovers in the fridge, Wednesday knelt in front of Enid as she flipped through a streaming app, knowing it would be some time before she landed on something for them to watch.

When she put her hands on Enid’s knees, the same way that Enid had done when she was rocking the baby, Wednesday locked eyes on hers. Enid dropped the remote. “You okay?” She asked in a serious, worried way, rubbing her shoulder.

Nodding, Wednesday let out a breath through her nose and shrugged. “I’m open…to whatever feels right for us.”

Enid lowered her hand from her shoulder to take Wednesday’s both in hers. “You don’t have to say that just because I said it first,” She promised. “I meant it as in, there’s no pressure, like - one way or the other. I’m serious. I just want a life with you.”

“What if we found a two eyed cat…and a one-eyed child at the same time?”

Blinking, Enid smirked. “I’m not sure what circumstances would lead to that, but of course. I don’t care how many eyes a kid has. If it feels like they’re part of our family, of course they should join it!”

Wednesday gave a curt nod, finding the words that had been locked away. “I don’t know that I’d ever want to carry a child. Physically, I mean – in utero. It seems like a distressing invasion of my personal space that I’m not sure I would ever recover from, and not due to societal standards of looking a certain, outward way afterwards.”

Enid’s eyes grew a watery sheen to them. “Of course, Wednesday. We’d never put you through something that made you uncomfortable that way. I’m, ugh,” She groaned. “I’m sorry if I made you uncomfortable by practically forcing you to hold baby Bailey earlier. That was wrong, I’m s-”

“That was an okay sort of discomfort,” Wednesday promised. She’d very much survived that moment. “It’s good to prove to myself that I can be gentle sometimes. But…maybe – if we don’t happen upon any orphans with limb differences who need space in our home, and you feel that you would like to carry a child and technology advances in such a way that it is possible for them to share our genetic makeup and we have space and have open hearts and we decide it’s what’s best for us and our family in our situation -”

Enid cut off her near-breathless ramble with a very sweet kiss. “I love you. I love this. Keeping our hearts open. That’s all I wanted to know, Wednesday.” She beamed at her. “You did a great job with Bailey, tonight.”

“You’re the natural. I would likely have a large learning curve.”

Enid raised a brow. “I’m not so sure. I think if it was a child of your own, not one already on a firm schedule and routine, you’d be quite instinctive. What aren’t you good at Wednesday?”

“Engaging in conversations and expressing my feelings,” She muttered as she proved that very point that night.

“Well, it’s not your strength, but both are totally mine, so – that’s where you lean on me, because I’m your partner, who loves you. And,” She kissed her again. “I appreciate you, coming out here tonight, just to spend this time with me like we’d planned. And having this tough talk. I love you. Come put your butt on this couch so I can sit on you and kiss you again.”

Not needing to be told twice, Wednesday took that direction very well, enjoying about twenty minutes of heated kisses, heavy petting and almost a little bit more when a fussing sound came from the monitor.

Enid groaned as she pulled away. “Right now, my heart is so not open to this,” She giggled.

Wednesday smirked, following her, having an idea as they moved to the nursery. Bailey was crying, mostly asleep, but wanting…something.

“I’ll change her real quick,” Enid whispered, nodding, “That bedtime bottle will run right through a baby.”

As Bailey whined and grumbled when Enid made to lay her back down in the crib, letting out a loud cry that made Wednesday wince, she shook her head, reaching her arms out. “I’ll talk to her.”

With an amused smirk, Enid passed her over and Wednesday sat back in the gliding chair, holding her awkwardly in front of her, explaining to the baby, who stopped, staring at her with exhausted eyes, “You’re fine. You’re safe. You’re warm. You’re full. You’re dry. You have everything you need, except about ten more hours of sleep. So, I’m going to rock you, and in five minutes, I’m putting you back in the crib, and you’re going to sleep. Do you understand?”

It was as if the baby said ‘yes’ when she gave a coo, reaching forward. Wednesday gave a curt nod. “That’s the rule. Five minutes of rocking, then back to bed.”

With the firm expectation set, she brought Bailey up to her shoulder the way she’d seen Enid do earlier. She snuggled right in, surprisingly – and thankfully – she wasn’t overtly sticky or snotty, as Enid had wiped her face pretty well after changing her. Gliding back and forth and patting her back, Wednesday thought that perhaps – if she had a beautifully haunting Russian composition playing softly in the background, it would help her stay asleep – adding that to her mental toolbox of notes in case the situation ever arose for her to develop a routine with a baby…

As she expected, once she’d put her foot down with the rule, Bailey knocked out on her shoulder. Enid whispered and motioned for how to transfer her into the crib, and as she did so, onto her back, Wednesday almost smiled at their tag-team success.

Back in the hallway, Enid winked and gave her a kiss. “You are a natural, Wednesday. You just do things in your own way. Now come here,” She gripped her collar, making Wednesday flush. “I’m about to have my own way with you.”

#wednesday 2022 #fanfic #oneshot #wenclair #author hates babies #thank you for the prompt this was so easy to write I did half of it on my prep period today lol #also fuck llama llama so hard #he's banned in my classroom as is Pete the damn Cat and Skippy Jon Jones #layla's >5k challenge

67 notes · View notes

yanderehsr · 10 months

Note

OH THANK YOU THANK YOU FOR DOING MY REQ !ヾ(≧▽≦*)o I really enjoy it <3

Is it weird that i asked for another request? Oh well . . . .

So um can i request a headcanon for Caelus, Gepard, Blade/Jing Yuan (who you wanna choose between them (￣▽￣)" or both) reacting to Darling as a . . . . WITCH DUM DUM DUM (ﾉ◕ヮ◕)ﾉ*:･ﾟ✧

Anyways- Have a great day <333

Thanks for the ask, I'm happy you enjoyed it😊

Trigger Warning: Yandere, Obsessive behaviour, Possessive behaviour, Kidnapping, Murder, Isolation, Clingy behaviour, Manipulation

Caelus: He doesn't care what you are, he will just find it really cool. Will ask you to show him spells and your potions. When he hears that witches are considered evil and are actively being hunted he gets angry.

Will beat down anyone who badmouths you and if someone is hunting you down for being a witch, then Caelus might have to get rid of them, in a more permanent way.

"What, of course this isn't blood, I must have spilled something from lunch"

Gepard: He is... surprised to say the least, but he quickly gets used to it, you are still you and he still loves you. When he realises that people hunt you down for being a witch, his protectiveness and clingy behaviour gets tenfolded.

Gepard will never leave your side now, he needs to protect you, but he has work to do... it's okay, he just drags you along to work then. He will glare at anyone who gives you a dirty look. And if even one of them touches you, well they wont stay around much longer.

"Don't worry, you are safe with me love"

Blade: Doesn't like that you're a witch, who knows how many spells you know and how many potions you can make that allows you to get away from him. And all these people that hunt you down, it all annoys him.

So Blade searches for ways to take away your ability to cast spells, he can limit your potion making easily enough, no ingredients mean no potions. Those who hunt you down die, nothing more to it. When he finds a way to hinder your abilities he will take you, never to be found again.

"Stop trying to cast that spell, it wont work anymore"

Jing Yuan: He is on the fence. He doesn't like that you have any kind of power, he wants you dependant on him. But on the other hand people are hunting you down, it makes it easier to manipulate you into thinking of him as safe.

So that is what Jing Yuan does, he manipulates you, makes you think that only he would accept this about you, and slowly but surely you believe him. That is when he takes you to your new home, and he knows you wont leave because only he will accept you.

"Do you not see, only I will accept you. Become mine and all your troubles will disappear"

Yeah, I added that witches are hunted in this, just to give it something extra. Hope you dont mind🙂

And as always feedback is appreciated.

#yandere #yandere honkai star rail #yandere hsr #yandere male #yandere caelus #yandere caelus x reader #yandere gepard #yandere gepard x reader #yandere blade #yandere blade x reader #yandere jing yuan #yandere jing yuan x reader

254 notes · View notes

yxstxrdrxxm · 2 months

Text

SYNOPSIS: To Lyney, secrets must be kept hidden. Maybe it's why, in the end, this 'love' feels like a sense of betrayal.

TW/s: Yandere behavior, Lyney becomes a bit of a ‘detective’ lol, toxic sibling dynamic (not inc/st god fucking no, just twisted morals on siblings + family), Lyney is fucked up and deranged. NSFW warnings include mentions of graphic description of violence, puppet moment™, implied trafficking (might not be here but be warned), arson, the whole nine yards.

NOTE FROM HR: A matchup with ties to the background of MixMatch… How curious. Now, this may be tame from some of these entries, but be warned, there may be things that can trigger someone.

Lyney is one of those that people underestimate a lot more than they’d like to admit. And for one thing, they wouldn’t be blamed… Much.

After all, he looked quite innocent, and wouldn’t seem to be the type to have any malicious intent for those he’s with. Which, if they knew him well, they would see that it’d be the biggest lie they’ve ever been told in all of history.

Including himself, ironically enough.

To Lyney and his siblings, he's a dead man walking. His intentions are not as pure, but his ambitions make up for it. All he wanted was to provide answers and insights for their Father, Arlecchino, and if it meant they had to work in the establishment… So be it.

This led to him speaking to Eros and Cupid—both matchmakers who, in his eyes, never signed up for the changes they were presented in front of them. In Cupid’s case, they were simply hired for the sake of alluding the crowd with the potential of MixMatch, and with who they can be with. Sure, the selection is tight and there’s been shady scandals in the past with Celestia Inc., but it was all fine, right?

As for Eros, he gathered from Freminet when he was speaking to her that he’s in charge of what goes truly with the ‘transactions’ from both client and rented ‘boyfriend’. She even mentioned how Cupid is also tied into it as the messenger, which was an irony, considering the Boss had his days numbered due to such an exploit before both came to work.

Speaking of, he was seeing them both now to see who his match is, and it looks like he got a catfish— courtesy of Cupid telling him and was now apologizing rapidly because the person he was matched it never really existed. It looked like they were groveling on his feet for forgiveness.

What a sorry sight.

…

How odd, mused Lyney, as he noticed the bandage on Cupid’s left cheek. It looked like something happened there, but he knew he couldn’t bring it up, lest it’d spark up suspicion that he was ‘looking into things he shouldn’t be’.

“No need to apologize,” he told them, watching them frown and shake their head once more. “Please, I must apologize for this mix-up. Eros and I were working overtime to set up these matches for you and everyone, and I feel as though it's my responsibility for what happened. Please forgive me, Lyney. You were meant to be with someone else.”

Someone else?

“Well, what’s done is done, little Cupid,” he says, patting their head. “You’re still getting used to things, so I’m sure I’ll be able to manage who you assigned me to. Now, you were saying that it’s ████████, right?”

“Yes, ████████. We don’t know their full name, but maybe you’d know them better than I do—you did tell us that you knew them.”

“Oh, that I do,” he added, his eyes twinkling as he reached to tilt his hat. “In fact, I met them long, long ago. It’s such an irony that now I’m matched with them. I thought that man would keep them locked shut in his little ‘team’.”

“I’m… Sorry?”

“Haha, nothing! Anyway, where are they? Did they tell you where they’d go?”

When Lyney managed to reach the venue, he had a few things in mind. Catfishing is never taken lightly in the corporation, and they were taught how to deal with those who pretended to be certain people and ditched when they had to meet their match.

The one thing, though, is that he had additional help.

"So, you're sure that the catfish used a fake profile to try and get into the bigwigs of MixMatch?" asked Lynette, raising an eyebrow as she watched him prepare for the surprise he had. "And here I thought that Father warned us to not be too rash. We still have a few things we needed to keep an eye on while you're working for them."

"I know that, Lynette, but I can't help myself! Having to impersonate someone and even getting my hopes up... Only to strike it down is a crime," he said, but the twins knew that he was merely pretending. With a sigh, he placed his hand on his heart, the other one holding some wire cutters.

"Oh well. It's not like it'll be such a bother, not with the bag of tricks we carried. Isn't that right, Lynette?"

"... You brought me with you, though."

"Ahaha! Nonsense! Besides, it's not just you. Freminet is with us, but he's working on the distraction as we three discussed," Lyney tutted, sauntering to the house and preparing the surprise. "Now, Lynette, would you be a dear and help your big brother cause some mayhem?"

The latter sighed. She knew her brother wouldn't back down for his need of doing something 'fun', and especially when his 'fun' involved committing enough crimes and getting suspicious people back to their... Hideout.

"... Fine," she muttered, donning a mask as she went to the back door. "Don't mess this up, brother. We need to be swift before people catch sight of us 'cleaning' this house up."

"Oh, I know."

When she was in position, he was quick to cut the wires, letting the lights go out inside the house. The voices coming from within were muffled, but he could already hear the anticipation from them. Tossing the wire cutters back to the bag, he grabbed a few things and heard a few thumps— that must mean that Lynette has done her part.

A sound of breaking glass, panicked voices, and he managed to get to the door. It was already unlocked, courtesy of their carelessness to locking the damn door, and he had simply tossed bombs that looked like mice. He could simply relish the screams as they went off, magenta smoke, sparkles, and splatters coming out when its timer reached zero.

He could hear them panic as she done quick work from the inside, the fumes travelling upwards and to the second floor, causing the house to be fogged up. Counting down a few seconds, he grabbed a few more and sent the next batch in.

Their plan was to cause a bit of mayhem as they 'cleaned' up the place. After all, their tricks only served to have cause the illusion, and it was nothing more than that. Although, the crime of impersonation and fooling him, an illusionist, is far bigger than those that the judge would state in the entire expanse of Teyvat.

After a few bombs, some things exploding and the fire starting from the inside and glass smashing, he saw Lynette come out with a body. Seems like she was unconscious too. With a nod, the twins left the house as swiftly as they came, but not without the illusionist tossing one more surprise.

A plush.

Upon making contact with the flames leaking from inside the house, it seem to blow up from the seams, wrecking it even more and urging the flames to consume more than the house as they escaped.

Running down to the streets below, Lynette caught whiff of soot and the special (flammable) smoke they made and scowled.

"Did you really have to use that?" she asked, scoffing. "You smell rancid in that."

"Hah! Like you're one to talk, my dear sister," he taunted back, lugging the bag up as they both saw Freminet coming out from the phone booth. He was carrying a receiver and his mechanical penguin, though his face looked rather grim.

"Lynette, Lyney... ██████ is calling us."

Their faces became serious.

"What is it?"

"I'm... Not sure. She said that we need to come back... Urgently. It's about the suitors and their involvement."

Lynette remained stone-faced. Sparing a glance to Lyney, she adjusted her grip on the body.

"I see. I'll be returning post-haste. Brother, can you make it there in 3 days?"

Lyney seems hesitant, but he nodded. If ██████ needed them, then he had to settle a few issues in the corporation. Turning his gaze to the watch, his brows furrowed at the time they had left.

"I need to return to Celestia Inc. Lynette, Freminet, please inform him that I need to file a leave before I can get there. After all, I am still apart of the corporation, and it'd be bad if the boss caught on."

The two nodded.

"Of course. I'm sure ██████ will understand."

If not, they have their methods to do such a thing.

It was 3 days too late when the meeting was set, but ██████ didn't mind when the oldest was late. After all, the company he was tied with willingly wouldn't allow any sort of leave unless there was definite proof of such a thing.

"Lyney, do you have any updates for the clients matched with you and the other 'suitors'?"

Lyney bowed, his expression remaining serious as he looked up towards her.

"██████, some of the clients have been killed by them. The others wound up missing, and no one knows where they are. Asking the two 'matchmakers' yielded no results either, as they are uninvolved of the process."

"I see. Lynette, how are the others that we've 'rescued'?"

"They are safe, ██████," she replied, lowering her head as she bowed alongside Lyney. "Some are a bit shaken as they didn't expect it to happen, but the suitors who saved them are cagey. A few have threatened me and Freminet from getting too close to them because of the danger that we 'possess' to them."

How interesting.

"And for those who were killed?"

"Buried 6 to 12 feet under. Some are left in docks and inside wells," Lyney was the next to respond. "There are others who's faces were mutilated. It was troublesome to confirm their faces. And the rest..."

"... I see."

██████ placed down the folder full of evidence she had. Most of it had been from the clients, and it came from one of the two sources itself.

"██████, what should we do? Freminet and I have our matches, but we can't be sure that the boss wouldn't try and assign them with someone else if he catches on."

"No need to worry, Lyney."

Grabbing one of the papers, the three could see ██████ smile.

"After today, that company will be in ruins. All I need is to tip off a few investigators and act as an 'unknown' source, and everything will fall into place."

It was a wonder for the three, Lyney included, for how devious ██████ can be. But they all nodded and bowed once again, concluding the meeting.

If there was one thing that Celestia Inc. didn't took account for, it would be the growing restlessness of their workers and those who managed to 'get in' without suspicion.

Just like in chess, the King is in position. Every other unit is now in place.

All it needs is a scapegoat to start the domino effect.

@.throw-letter-away | do not republish or repost my works anywhere | 2024

56 notes · View notes

bwabys-scenarios · 9 months

Text

Fixer Upper

Part 11

Perv!Kurapika x Fem!Reader

part 10

part 12

warning: reader is kinda in a bad place 😭 so if that seems like it could be triggering for you, you may not want to stick around for future chapters. because there are some sad reveals later on :(

taglist: @fabitheraven @tsukilover11 @ashdownunderscorebeloved @lemonslut @homeinmydreams @superweeniehutjrsblog @bugmomwrites @heartsforseo @lixiawinter @altaircc @itszenava @fiightforlovee @mimi-sanisanidiot @monainanuttshell @wow-im-gay @whorermoviestar @lightshowerrr @mama-m1na

If you’d like to be ADDED to the taglist, please comment a red heart ❤️, make sure you’re able to be tagged/mentioned, and have your age in your bio(IF YOU ARE ALREADY ON THE TAGLIST, YOU DON’T NEED TO ASK TO BE ADDED AGAIN!!)

If you like my writing, come join my discord!! we watch HXH, play games, and spend all night writing sometimes!! there’s also lots of content there that I may never post here!!

BEFORE THE HUNTER EXAM

(Name) pulled her cover off and placed her sock covered feet on the cold floor. It was another sleepy Tuesday morning, the sun shining onto her messy bed.

Her legs were still tired from her long walk from her campus yesterday. She yawned into her hand as she poured her coffee into the cat paw patterned cup her little brothers gave her for her birthday.

(Name) sipped slowly. The cheap store brand coffee wasn’t amazing, but it was better than nothing. She glanced at her phone to see a missed call from her mother.

‘She never calls. Must of heard of the news from school…’

She pressed call, waiting a few seconds before her mother picked up.

“You idiot, I can’t believe you dropped out! After all the money your dad and I-“

“I’ve already sent a check reimbursing you for the classes you paid for.”

Her mother gasped. “You disrespectful little… I hope you know we’ll be cutting you off for this. We already had low expectations for you, and you couldn’t even meet those. What a useless girl you are.”

(Name) sighed. ‘Cut me off? Not like you were supporting me much anyways.’

She looked around her crappy apartment with a sigh.

“And you’re taking the Hunter Exam. Well good for you. You gave up being a nurse to take the most dangerous test in the world. How smart of you.”

Sarcasm and hate dripped off of her voice like venom. (Name) didn’t respond. She was used to this by now, only sighing.

“Is that all you wanted to say?”

Her mother was quiet for a moment.

“No. In fact, I wanted to let you know that any further contact from you will be considered harassment. You will not be contacting any members of our family after this call.”

(Name)’s eyes widened, her cup slipping to the floor. “Wait, you don’t mean-“

“Yes. You will not be able to see your brothers. Ever again.”

She hung up the phone. (Name) stared down at the shattered cup before quickly trying to call her mother back.

“Please, pick up mom… not my brothers. You can’t take them from me!!”

But she didn’t answer, and soon she wasn’t able to call her at all.

‘Must of blocked me…’

She sat down, not caring about the coffee that had splashed on her legs and began to burn her skin. (Name) could only stare down at the shards of the only gift she had from her brothers.

(Name) glanced at the Hunter Exam application, tears pooling in the corners of her eyes.

‘Why not, not like I have anything to lose.’

The next few months (Name) went about life in a blur. She trained for the exam, slowly distancing herself from the small acquaintances she had from college, and breaking her lease.

She packed her backpack the night before the exam, placing several pairs of outfits, some canteens of water, food, other various items, and a dagger.

It was enough to be a good weight against her back, but not too heavy to make running or climbing difficult.

The last thing she packed into her bag was an envelope, carrying a letter.

“…”

She stared at the letter for a moment before stuffing it into the bottom of her bag, where it would be safe. It was the most important item in there, after all.

And she didn’t want anyone to read it until the time came.

———————

The first few trials of the exam had been hard, but she’d managed to scrape through and finally arrive where the First Phase would be held.

(Name) held onto one strap of her backpack quietly. Her navigator had been a bit worried for her, asking if she was okay.

“Yes, I’m alright. Just nervous I guess.”

The navigator nodded slowly. “I see. I think you’ll do well, dear, and if you don’t there’s always next year! I’ll see you then, yeah?”

(Name) looked down at her feet, not answering the woman. The navigator sighed before smiling.

“Good luck, I hope you pass!”

(Name) gave her a small smile back, waving as the doors closed and she began to descend. Her heart began to race. So far, she’d only met a few other Hunter applicants, all of them unkind. She was beginning to lose hope that she’d be able to make any type of alliances.

Not that she cared all that much. She didn’t think she’d be passing anyways.

Or surviving.

She looked down at the badge the navigator had given her.

‘#406. That must mean there are over 400 other applicants. Great.’

The doors opened up and (Name) walked out. Heads turned to stare at her, a few whistles and nods of approval could he heard and seen.

It wasn’t unexpected to (Name). After all, she was wearing a short white tennis skirt, and a pink cardigan over a white undershirt. Out of everyone else in sight, she seemed to be the only one dressed in such a way.

(Name) sighed as she joined the crowd. She looked around, her eyes glancing between each applicant before she spotted someone.

‘Oh thank god.’

She ran forward and grabbed onto a blonde woman’s sleeve, tugging it lightly.

“Hey there! I’m so glad I’m not the only woman here. Would you like to team up? Girls supporting girls and all?”

The blonde turned to her and blinked, tilting her head.

“Oh, um… you can join us, but…”

She blushed lightly, obviously embarrassed.

“I’m not a girl.”

(Name) tilted her head as the person next to the blonde bursted into laughter.

The blonde scowled and turned to the man. “And what is so funny, Leorio?”

The man, supposedly named Leorio, continued laughing. “Th-the first girl we meet and she thinks you’re a girl too! This is priceless!”

(Name) tightened her grip on the straps of her backpack. “I apologize. You’re just so pretty, I thought you were a girl.”

Yet again, the blonde blushed. “It’s alright, I promise. You said you were looking for someone to team up with, correct?”

She nodded as Leorio’s laughter died down. “Well you can stay with us. I’m not sure if we’ll be together the entire exam, but you’re welcome to tag along.”

“I sure wouldn’t mind a pretty little lady like you being on my t-“

The blonde hit him over the head with some sheathed weapon. “Ouch, Kurapika what was that for?”

The boy called Kurapika huffed. “I won’t have you being a creep to our new comrade. It’s disgraceful.”

“New comrade?”

A boy, who looked no older than twelve approached the group. “Oh, Gon! This girl asked to join up with us.”

(Name) waved at him. “Hello, I’m (Name).”

“That’s a beautiful name for a beautiful lady.”

Leorio grabbed her hand with both of his and shook it. “Welcome to the team!”

She shook hands with the others as well, looking away shyly when her hand touched Kurapika’s.

‘He really is pretty…’

Kurapika smiled. “I bet the exam has been full of trials, did you come here alone?”

“Yes, the only other applicants I’ve met have tried tricking or hurting me into failing. I’m glad I’ve finally met some nice people.”

Kurapika’s face shifted into a grimace. “That’s deplorable. But I guess it’s to be expected. The applicants could be anyone, meaning there’s bound to be bad people.”

(Name) sighed, pulling out a water canteen from her bag and sipping on it. “Any idea on what the first phase will be?”

When she caught Gon staring at the canteen, she offered it to him. He took it with a smile. Everyone took a sip before handing it back to (Name).

“I see you’ve come prepared. If you don’t mind me asking, what else do you have in your backpack?”

She frowned slightly but pulled it over her shoulder and into her hands. “Not a ton of things, but I have some snacks and water, along with a few different outfits.”

Kurapika blinked. ‘Oh, I guess different outfits would be important to a woman.’

She offered the three some hard candy, which Gon and Kurapika took. As they waited for the phase to begin, they chatted amongst themselves to get to know each other.

“You dropped out of medical school!?”

Leorio seemed almost angry, but was calmed down when he saw the sad look on her face.

“Yes, I did. It’s not that I don’t want to go, I just… I didn’t really have a choice in what I was studying. I decided to take the Hunter Exam on a whim, really. I…”

She didn’t finish her sentence, quickly smiling to hide that she almost let her secret spill.

“I’m excited to succeed!”

Leorio’s eyes softened. She was hiding something, but he could tell it wasn’t sinister. It was more for their sake then her’s.

“I hope you do.”

———————

A sharp ringing sounded throughout the large room. A man named Tonpa had walked over and talked to the group a bit, (Name) not paying him much attention. She was much too busy chatting with Kurapika, who seemed happy to share his experience with the exam with her.

The group looked up to see a man with short purple hair and a curly mustache standing before them, holding the ringing alarm. He stopped it before speaking.

“As of this moment the exam is closed to any further applicants. I would like to officially welcome everyone here to the Hunter Exam.”

Gon grinned. “Alright, finally, it’s gonna get started!”

“Aw man, I can’t believe I’m getting nervous.” Leorio said, loosening his tie.

“Come with me. Let me take a moment to remind you all that the Hunter Exam is extremely demanding. If you’re unprepared or unlucky, you may well be injured or killed. If you are alright with accepting those risks, then you may continue following me.”

The group followed after him, (Name) sticking by Kurapika. He may not be a girl, but out of all of them he seemed the most trustworthy and reliable.

“Very well then. The number of applicants is 405. At least for now.”

(Name) thought back to when Hisoka had taken one of the applicants out, holding the straps to her backpack a little tighter as she walked.

Leorio glanced around the crowd. “I guess I should have expected it, but no one’s backed out yet. I hoped there might be a few.”

(Name) hummed. “If they’ve made it this far, I doubt they’ll be backing out anytime soon.”

Kurapika nodded. “Yes, I agree. Just the path to the Hunter exam is full of trials and tribulations that would make ordinary men- oh and women, give up.”

(Name) suppressed a giggle. “Mhm.”

The people in the front began to speed up. “Hey, he’s picking up the pace!” Kurapika said with a frown.

“Sorry for the delay, but allow me to introduce myself. I’m Satotz, the examiner for the First Phase. I’m also the one that’s leading you to the sight for the Second Phase. Some of you may have already realized that keeping up with me until we reach the Second Phase is in fact, the First Phase.”

Their light jog turned into a run, and thirty minutes passed with no change in pace.

(Name) sighed lightly as she kept pace with the group, having to hold a hand over her chest to keep it from bouncing too much. ‘Went through the trouble of wearing two sports bras for no change in the outcome. Annoying.’

(Name) paid no attention to Tonpa explaining that this phase was not only a physical test, but a psychological one. She didn’t really care, (Name) was too busy focusing on her breathing and heavy backpack.

A boy came racing in between them riding a skateboard. (Name) glanced at him from the corner of her eye.

“Wow, that’s cool!” Gon called with a smile.

“Hey, kid on the skateboard, that’s not fair! You’re cheating!”

(Name) hummed and ran a bit ahead. She didn’t really feel like hearing Leorio harass a random kid. Kurapika watched her for a moment before following behind her.

“Sorry, he can be a bit annoying sometimes.”

Kurapika gave her a small smile, running beside her. (Name) shook her head. “No reason to be sorry. I’m just… not in the mood to hear someone yelling right now.”

“Hmm, that’s fair. Leorio can be pretty loud and obnoxious.”

(Name) hummed. “I happen to usually like loud and obnoxious people I’ll have you know. It’s just hard to to tolerate when I’m already tired from running.”

They both laughed. (Name) reached into her backpack and pulled out her canteen. “You thirsty? It’s been thirty minutes.”

He nodded. “Yes, thank you.”

Kurapika took a drink before he handed it back. The girl immediately shoved it back into her bag, Kurapika raising an eyebrow.

‘Why did she take it out if not to take a sip for herself?’

He didn’t voice this question, instead focusing on his legs, willing them forward.

“So, Kurapika, how old are you?”

The blonde tilted his head. “Why do you ask?”

She shrugged, shouldering her backpack again. “Just curious. If you want to know, I’m 18 myself.”

“17, 18 in April.”

(Name) nodded. ‘So we’re about the same age. Interesting…’

“And apparently Leorio is 19.”

“19!? He certainly doesn’t look the part.”

The two laughed again, (Name) nearly tripping, but quickly being steadied by Kurapika.

“Woah there, watch where you step. It is dark in here.”

(Name) nodded, lightly flustered from his grasp on her wrist. He let go quickly, seemingly unfazed by the physical contact.

3 hours pass by, and (Name) was beginning to get tired. The group stopped when Leorio collapsed, (Name) immediately rushing to his side. She dropped next to him, patting his back and offering him some water.

“Leorio!” Gon began running to join Leorio when the white haired boy, Killua called out to him.

“Hey, what do you think you’re doing? He’s finished, so just leave him behind.”

Gon frowned. “Come on, you don’t know that! Besides I can’t just leave him here, he’s my friend!”

“Friend?”

“Uh huh. That’s what I said.”

After chugging the rest of the water from one of her canteens, Leorio began to stand. “I’m not giving up… I came here to become a Hunter and that’s what I’m gonna do!”

(Name) watched as he rushed forward, Tonpa sighing.

“Hey take it easy, you need a break.”

“Shut up! If you’re just gonna stand around here, I’ll leave you… in my dust… hah hah… aww great, my legs won’t move.”

(Name) walked forward and handed him a handkerchief to wipe his sweat away with. Kurapika watched this interaction, his eyes watching her face twist into concern for a man she’d just met.

“So you’re not just in it for the money.”

Leorio huffed. “No, it’s all about money. There’s no other reason…”

“We don’t have time to argue about this. What do you think we should do now, Tonpa?”

(Name) stood up straight again, stretching lightly.

“Hmmm, wait a sec, that smell! Do ya remember? There was a sweet smell from that tunnel. Hey, I think it might help you recuperate!”

“What?”

“I thought I recognize that smell, I think it’s the sap of the healing cedar tree!” Tonpa exclaimed.

“Healing cedar?”

“Yeah! The sap is used by Hunters who often become exhausted in the forest. All you have to do is smell the aroma for a while and you can recover and keep on going.”

Kurapika stopped Tonpa from carrying Leorio away. “Wait a minute, it could be a trap.”

“Maybe, but we can’t just leave him behind now, can we? It’s a chance we’re gonna have to take.”

The blonde frowned. “Yes, but…”

“I’m king of the flunkies. You wanna know why I failed the exam 34 times? I’m a sucker for anyone that needs my help.”

(Name) raised an eyebrow at this. She glanced between Leorio and Tonpa.

“It’s okay. As soon as Leorio recovers, we’ll catch up to you, I promise.”

“I’m sorry, Tonpa… Gon, Kurapika, (Name), don’t worry about me. Go for it!”

(Name) crouched down and rearranged her backpack as the others spoke, then stood as they began to leave, watching Leorio carry him away with a suspicious look.

‘Don’t trust him one bit.’ She thought.

“What are you doing, are you coming or not?”

“Oh yeah, sorry to keep you waiting. You can go on ahead.”

Killua tilted his head. “You mean you’re not going to keep going?”

“Yeah, not unless it’s with Leorio.”

(Name) nodded. “Me either. I’m still worried for him, he wasn’t doing too hot…”

Both Gon and Kurapika noticed her staring into the distance, clutching her cardigan tightly.

“Kurapika, I’m going to see how they’re doing. Tonpa said they’d be okay, but I’m still worried.”

“I’ll come with you. We can always catch up to the group later on.”

Gon nodded towards Killua. “Alright, we’ll be back. Then, if you want, you can tell me your name. Because I still don’t know what it is.”

Kurapika glanced at (Name). “Will you be coming as well?”

She gave him a quick nod. “Of course. I can’t just abandon someone in need.”

He didn’t respond, racing after Gon towards where they had last seen Leorio and Tonpa heading.

But he did feel something stir in his chest when his eyes met hers.

‘She’s kind. It’s… nice to see that in such a place.’

The three stopped when they spotted Tonpa lying on the ground.

“Tonpa! What’s wrong?”

He groaned and lifted himself up slowly. “Oh, it’s you. Hurry, they need your help!”

“What happened back there?” Kurapika asked, glancing between Tonpa and the hallway he pointed to.

“It was a trap. Worst I’ve seen. Hurry!”

(Name) turned and ran towards where Tonpa had been pointing, the two following behind her.

The three continued to run until they came across Nicholas, one of the applicants.

“Nicholas! What’s wrong?”

The boy slowly moved so he was on his hands and knees, looking back at them with a delirious expression. Kurapika subconsciously pushed (Name) behind him.

The man began to walk away while laughing to himself. Kurapika watched him for a minute before speaking.

“Let’s go, we have to find Leorio.”

Gon and (Name) nodded. “Yeah.”

——————

“Leorio, can you hear me? Leorio!!!”

Gon continued to call out Leorio’s name as they ran, (Name) noticing Kurapika beginning to slow down.

“Kurapika?”

She stopped next to him, Gon circling back when he noticed they were no longer running. “What’s wrong?”

Kurapika eyes became hazy, the blonde holding up his weapons to defend himself. “The Phantom Troupe…”

His breath came out in short pants as his eyes began to turn a deep shade of scarlet.

“Oh no…please, don’t do it…”

He collapsed onto the ground, (Name) quick to kneel by his side. “Kurapika, what’s going on? Are you alright?”

“Can you hear me?” Gon asked, concern lacing his voice.

Kurapika stared at the ground as sweat beaded down his forehead.

He fell, lying against the ground. “Make… them stop… please…”

He stared off into the distance, unable to move. (Name) wasn’t sure what to do, so she rubbed soothing circles into his back. “Kurapika, no one’s here. It’s just us.”

He didn’t relax though. His eyes remained that same scarlet color. “We have to get going. I’ll carry him.”

(Name) hoisted Kurapika up and over her shoulder. Gon blinked. “Wow, you’re strong.”

She nodded, a small smile on her lips. “I grew up with two younger brothers who looooved piggy back rides.”

“Can I get one too? Later, I mean.”

(Name) laughed. “Sure, after we find Leorio.”

They continued, now slowed down because of Kurapika’s weight. She didn’t seem to have much trouble carrying him, only occasionally grunting and rearranging him on her shoulder.

“So, Gon, why do you want to be a Hunter?”

The young boy hummed, adjusting the line on his fishing pole. “Mmm, I’m not sure yet, but I want to find my dad. He’s a Hunter too.”

‘Find? Did his dad abandon him?’

(Name) nodded slowly. “I see.”

“What about you?”

The girl paused, her grip on Kurapika’s thigh tightening ever so slightly. “Well… I didn’t have many options.”

Gon tilted his head. “Really?”

“Yeah. I… just thought it would be fun to try out.”

She sighed. (Name) didn’t enjoy lying, especially to an honest boy like him, but the truth about the situation wasn’t something a child should know. Gon didn’t respond.

The hallway was quiet for a bit, until Kurapika grunted loudly. (Name) turned her head a bit to see if he’d woken up, only for him to begin struggling against her and cry out.

“Kurapika! Are you alright?”

He wiggled out of her grasp, and just as she was about to lean over and help him back up, the white haired boy from before appeared, kicking the blonde in the face.

“Kurapika!”

She rushed over to his side, crouching down as he lifted his upper half onto his forearms to look up.

She helped him into a sitting position, the blonde leaning against her for support.

“Kurapika?”

Gon ran over, Killua standing in front of (Name) and Kurapika. The red had left his eyes, leaving them the pretty brown color she had noticed when she first met him.

“Oh good, you’re finally back to normal!” Gon said, smiling.

“But, uh…”

Killua watched Kurapika and (Name) with his blue eyes. “There is no healing cedar tree.”

“Huh!?”

“The sap comes from the tree of hallucination, it’s been used by assassins for a long time. It’s victims re-experience the worst events of their lives, and it eventually drives them insane.”

Kurapika blinked slowly, realizing he’d been leaning against (Name). He pulled back, the girl reaching out to make sure he didn’t fall.

“How do you know that?” Gon asked.

“So that means Tonpa must of…”

Killua nodded at the blonde. “Yeah, that’s right, he set you guys up.”

Kurapika growled in anger, gripping onto (Name)’s sleeve.

“We should go.”

“Sure, I think I know a way we can save the old guy you were with, and catch up with the group again with a single move.”

(Name) helped Kurapika stand, the blonde grateful for her help. She’d only known him for an hour but was risking failing the exam to make sure him and Leorio were okay.

“A games no fun unless there’s some risks.”

“I’m glad we met up again! Are you going to tell me your name?”

The boy smiled at Gon. “It’s Killua.”

———————

“Okay Killua, tell us your idea.”

He pulled out a small object from his pocket. “It’s a bomb, small but effective.”

(Name) pulled Gon back by his shoulders a bit by instinct. He didn’t react, only glancing at her hands before responding.

“That’s a bomb?”

“Let’s blow up this wall and all the disgusting sap covering it.”

He placed the bombs all over the wall, (Name) stepping a few feet back. Kurapika watched as she carefully maneuvered Gon to a safe distance, the dark haired boy not seeming to mind at all.

The explosion began, the four leaping through the opening created by the bomb to grab Leorio.

They all fell onto the ground, (Name) being caught before she face planted by Kurapika. He pulled her up slightly before letting go.

“It worked! Not the easiest way to travel but it is fast! I guess there’s no turning back now.”

Kurapika blinked as (Name) knelt next to Leorio. “You alright?”

“Gon? (Name)? Kurapika? … Pietro?”

She patted his back gently. “It’s just us, Leorio.”

“You were hallucinating as a result of inhaling the sap. Tonpa fooled us all.”

Leorio gave (Name) a smile, accepting her hand when she offered to pull him to her feet.

“So that’s what that was. Guess I owe you guys one for saving my butt. But how did you manage to avoid it?”

Kurapika shook his head. “It was a close call for me.”

“(Name) and I were fine!”

“I guess it wouldn’t work on Gon cuz he’s still a kid, so he doesn’t have any problems yet.”

‘But why wouldn’t it work for (Name)?’

Leorio and Kurapika glanced at the girl, who was pulling out a bandaid to place on Gon’s knee. The two seemed to already be friendly with each other, laughing when Gon nearly tripped again.

“Hey old man, we don’t have time to sit around chatting.”

“OLD MAN!? What are you-“

“His names Killua!”

“Ready for the next round?”

Killua threw more bombs past Leorio’s head. “What was that, I heard a click.”

(Name) covered Gon and Killua with her cardigan, then shielded her ears.

“THEY’RE BOMBS!?”

The group of five jumped through the hole the bombs left, Gon handing (Name) her cardigan after they landed. “Thanks (Name)!”

Killua watched her with narrow eyes. ‘What does she get out of protecting us with that flimsy cardigan? What is she after..?’

A plume of smoke dispersed through the hallway, the sound of the other applicants coughing echoing on the walls.

“What exactly is going on here?” Satotz asked.

“Oh, uh, I’m sorry, but we had to break through the walls.” Gon said apologetically.

“I never said you couldn’t destroy the walls, but tell me, how is it that you survived after wondering through the tunnels of hallucinations? I’m quite impressed.”

(Name) pulled some debris from her hair, sighing. Leorio spotted Tonpa and rushed forward, grabbing him by the collar. “How dare you! I have a score to settle with you!”

“Stop, Leorio!”

(Name) pulled out a piece of hard candy and began to suck on it as her new comrades argued. Killua watched her do this and crouched down next to her.

“You got candy?”

She tilted her head then smiled. “Yes, would you like a piece?”

She offered him a piece of butterscotch candy, which he took. ‘… maybe she’s not so bad after all. I’ll still keep my distance but…’

He didn’t sense any malicious intent from her, just… something. Something that honestly unnerved him a little.

——————

(Name) and Kurapika kept pace with each other, eventually reaching Leorio who had taken off his shirt.

“I see, so you were lying to us before.”

“Didn’t lie! My objective has always been to make a lot of money! And whatever happened in the past, happened in the past! I have no interest in doing anything that won’t make me any money!”

Kurapika sighed. “I wish you luck.”

“I don’t need luck, I’m going to become a hunter or die trying!”

“No, a doctor.”

(Name) giggled next to them.

“Could you please not look at me like that, Kurapika? It makes me a little nervous. Now come on, let’s go!”

The blonde smiled. “You alright now, Leorio?”

“Yeah I’m fine, check it out! I don’t care how stupid I look! I’d keep running even if I was naked! Pretend you don’t know me if you want!”

(Name) gasped when Kurapika threw off his tabard and stuffed it into his bag. Kurapika glanced at her. “Maybe we should follow his example.”

She pulled off her cardigan and stuffed it into her backpack.

It didn’t take long for her to catch up to Leorio, who instantly noticed she was no longer covered by her thick cardigan.

“WOAH! You’ve got a nice figure. Plump and soft, just how I like th-“

Kurapika kicked the back of his legs, causing him to crumple before getting back up and running behind them.

“WHAT WAS THAT FOR!?”

The blonde shrugged. “Sorry, pervert senses were tingling.”

———————

They reached the outside, (Name) instantly unbuttoning her undershirt so she could fan herself. It was hot, and even with just her skirt and top she was sweating. “Yeesh, I’m burning up.”

She crouched down and fanned herself with her hand, ignoring what was going on. They seemed to be distracted by some kind of “impersonator”, but she didn’t care all that much.

The magician disposed of the impersonator and they began to run again.

‘Ah, maybe I should have listened a little…’ she thought, watching as the people around her began to be attacked by mysterious beasts.

She glanced around to see she’d already lost her group, sighing to herself.

“You lost, little girl?”

(Name) blinked before turning her head to the left to see Hisoka leaning against a tree. He smiled at her, holding a card in his hand.

“Dunno, maybe.”

She shrugged nonchalantly, giving Hisoka a bored look. “Hmm…”

Hisoka stepped forward, looking her over. “Not bad… you certainly have some potential.”

She raised an eyebrow. “Potential? What do you mean by that?”

The magician tossed a card in her direction, the girl not even flinching when it sliced her cheek. She continued to stare at him, the look in her eyes making him shiver.

It was the look of someone prepared to die.

“I see… so that’s why you’ve peaked my interest…”

He pointed behind him. “You pass. If you continue that way, you’ll catch up to the group in no time.”

He began to walk in the opposite direction, quickly passing her by.

“Wait, if that way is the right direction, then why are you going that way?”

He only chuckled. “I have some… business to take care of.”

She sighed and took out her dagger. “Whatever.”

She continued running in the direction he pointed to, the man barely restraining himself from letting out a moan.

“God, I can’t wait until she’s ready to fight.”

He chuckled to himself before continuing on his run.

“(Name)!”

Gon yelled out, nearly crashing into the girl. She paused, catching him in her arms. “Gon, you’re okay!”

She squeezed him lightly before noticing Kurapika as well. “(Name)…”

He stopped for a moment to catch his breath. “Your cheek…”

She blinked before swiping at her cheek with her sleeve. “Oh, this? You can thank Hisoka for it. He attacked me, then said I passed and pointed to where I could find the group. Still haven’t found them, though.”

Kurapika gripped his weapons tightly. “He’d even hurt a woman? That sick bastard…”

(Name) sighed. “It doesn’t hurt that much, and once we get to the sight of the second phase I’ll put a bandaid on it. I guess I’m just lucky to have survived this long, considering I’ve been alone these past thirty minutes.”

She offered the two a drink from her canteen, which they took. After that they continued, Kurapika keeping a close eye on the girl.

Killua was waiting near the edge of the crowd, and was the first one to see the three arrive.

“Gon, (Name)!”

He smiled, putting his hands in his pockets.

(Name) bent over to catch her breath before rushing over to the still unconscious Leorio.

Hisoka had pointed him out seconds before, winking at the girl. Kurapika scowled when he noticed Hisoka watching her every movement.

‘That creep. I’ll need to stick by her so he doesn’t get any weird ideas.’

Leorio didn’t remember anything, but seemed happy to have (Name) taking care of his injuries. Kurapika pulled her back to gently wipe her cheek.

“Leorio can wait a second, you need to tend to yourself first.”

She looked to the ground, nodding. ‘But I don’t really care about my own injuries…’

Nonetheless, she cleaned the cut and applied a hello kitty bandaid before going back to Leorio.

Satotz left shortly after wishing them all luck. Killua watched her tend to Leorio before walking off and chatting with Gon.

“Alright, you should be okay. It’s going to take a while for the swelling in your cheek to go down, though.”

She helped pull him to his feet before pulling her backpack over her shoulders. “Thank you, beautiful. If I had you to tend to me, I’d get hurt all the time.”

Kurapika narrowed his eyes. “I think I’ll be taking care of your injuries after this.”

(Name) chuckled, poking Leorio’s good cheek. “Don’t get hurt on purpose, big guy.”

———————

“It’s almost time!” Gon said.

“I’m getting a little nervous.” Kurapika replied, holding onto his satchel tightly.

“I think you’ll do fine.” she patted his shoulder gently, a smile on her lips.

“Just about anything could be waiting for us behind those doors…”

The clock rang soon after Leorio finished his sentence. The doors to the building opened, a loud growling sound making (Name) jump and hide behind Kurapika and Leorio.

“Thanks for waiting. Buhara, how are you feeling now, hungry?”

A woman with greenish blue hair sat in front of a giant of a man, who’s stomach had been causing the loud noise.

“Yeah Menchi, I think anyone who has ears can hear that I’m starving!”

She smiled shyly at the group in front of her. “As you might have guessed, us two Gourmet Hunters are in charge of judging the Second Phase.”

“Gourmet Hunters?”

“What’s that?”

“Gourmet Hunters travel around the world collecting all sorts of exotic ingredients. They then use them to create new innovative dishes that have never been tasted. Before becoming Hunters, most of them were gourmet chefs.” Kurapika answered

‘Hmm, he’s smart.’ (Name) thought, watching the blonde.

“Hmm, so then this phase…”

“Right! So the subject for this phase, is cooking!”

“COOKING!?”

(Name) smiled. ‘This is actually something I can do!’

She listened to the two examiners, nodding along.

“Man, I’ve never cooked anything before in my life!” Leorio said with a sigh. (Name) was taken aback by this.

“Never? How are you still alive?”

Kurapika looked away from the girl. ‘I’ve never cooked either, but I’ll keep that to myself,’ he thought, not wanting to embarrass himself.

Gon smiled. “I know how to cook!”

The three turned towards the boy. “You serious? What can you make?” Leorio asked.

“I can make a lot of different stuff, but my specialty is macaroni and cheese!”

“Macaroni… and cheese?”

(Name) giggled. “Oh, Gon, that’s great for your age.”

“Well, I guess you could call that cooking.”

Kurapika gave the boy a smile as Leorio laughed. “Come on, it doesn’t take much of a chef to make a simple dish like macaroni and cheese.”

“Hey, that’s not true! Aunt Mito always said no one makes it like me!”

(Name) nodded along, patting his head.

“I’m sure she’s right. Maybe you can make it for me sometime.” Leorio said, snickering.

“Met too.” Kurapika agreed, seemingly amused by the innocent boy.

(Name) gave him a piece of candy, quickly grabbing a piece for Killua as well. “Here, I’ll want some of that macaroni and cheese as well. Is this payment good enough?”

She winked, the boy laughing. “Yes, this will do!”

“Listen up! My order is…”

(Name) quieted down, glancing back to the large man known as Buhara.

“A whole roasted pig! It’s my absolute favorite, and living in the forest is the great stamp! The most ferocious and delicious pig of them all!”

“The great stamp?” The entire group asked in unison.

The ground began to shake underneath them, a herd of pigs barreling towards them. Kurapika pulled (Name) out of the way just in time, the girl letting out a gasp as her skirt flew up from the gust of wind accompanying the stampede.

She was thankful she had worn a pair of shorts underneath, but other people weren’t.

“Aww, there’s shorts.”

(Name) and Kurapika turned to look at Leorio at the same time.

“Why do you sound so disappointed?”

Kurapika shook his head at (Name). “You don’t want to know what goes through that pervert’s mind.”

He ushered her away, glaring back at Leorio as he did.

They continued running away from the giant pigs, (Name) and Kurapika teaming up.

“It’s snout is tough, did you see how it launched all those grown men?”

Kurapika nodded. “Yes, but it should have some sort of weakness. Perhaps…”

From the corner of his eye, Kurapika watched Gon hit the stamp over the head, causing it to fall over dead.

“(Name), I have a plan, but you’re going to have to trust me.”

They hid behind a tree so he could explain. “You’re going to grab a thick tree branch, and I’m going to throw you onto the pigs back. Then, you’ll hit it over the head. We’ll repeat this twice.”

She seemed a bit uncomfortable with this plan, glancing to the pig sniffing around for them. “Oh um… are you sure you can pick me up?”

He tilted his head, looking her up and down. “Yeah, why wouldn’t I be able to?”

Too embarrassed to answer that, she agreed to the plan.

“Okay, on the count of three, we’ll rush out to attack.” Kurapika said, grabbing her hand. (Name) looked down, her face heating up ever so slightly.

“One!”

“Two!”

“THREE!”

They rushed out, causing the pig to run towards them. Kurapika grabbed (Name) by the waist and threw her into the air. “AHHH!”

She landed with a huff onto the pig’s back, groaning.

“You’ve got it, (Name)! Hit it now!”

She recovered quickly, bringing the stick down with as much force as she could manage. The pig collapsed, (Name) barely moving out of the way before she was crushed.

“You did it!”

Kurapika rushed over to help her up, smiling. The girl rubbed her bottom. “That landing hurt, I’m not excited to do that again.”

He gave her a sympathetic smile. “Sorry, it’s just the safest way to do it.”

The two repeated the action, Kurapika helping her off the second time.

“Owie…”

Kurapika could only gently pat her shoulder. “You alright?”

She nodded slowly. “As alright as I can be, after being thrown in the air and landing on a pig.”

Kurapika laughed at this, the girl joining him.

————————

Buhara ended up passing everyone that entered a roasted pig.

Menchi scolded him for passing everyone, but (Name) wasn’t listening. She was busy staring at Kurapika’s hand, that was placed on her shoulder.

“I’m not an armrest, ya know.”

Kurapika pulled his hand back, cheeks going pink. “Oh, sorry! I meant to say thank you for your help, but I got distracted by Buhara and Menchi.”

She giggled. “Well thank you for coming up with the plan. Now we’ve both passed half of the second phase!”

He relaxed, returning her smile.

“For the next part of this phase you’ll be filling my order, which is… sushi.”

Leorio tilted his head. “Sushi?”

“Sushi? Wonder what that is…” killua thought aloud.

“Any ideas?” Kurapika asked (Name), turning to her. She shook her head.

“No, unfortunately I’ve never heard of that dish before.” The two sighed.

“You guys look pretty stressed out! But I don’t blame you for not knowing what it is. Sushi is an ethnic dish from a small island country. I’ll give you a little hint. Inside you’ll find your work stations!”

(Name) tilted her head. “Work station?”

The applicants walked inside, seeing various kitchen work stations.

“Here’s where you’ll prepare the dish. Each station has all the essential tools and ingredients. I’ve even prepared the rice for you, which is necessary to make sushi. And now for one final hint! I’m particularly fond of hand molded nigiri sushi!”

(Name) stood at her station, between Kurapika and Leorio.

“Alright then, you guys can get started! This test will conclude as soon as I’m full. Until then you can serve me as many pieces as you want.”

(Name) watched Leorio stare at the barrel of rice. “Hmm… hand molded? That should give me some sort of indication of what it’s supposed to look like. But that still doesn’t tell me what other things I need to use.”

Kurapika hummed. “Nigiri sushi… I’m not sure exactly how this food is supposed to be made, but I think I’ve read about it somewhere.”

“Really?”

“Let’s see, if I recall, it’s made mostly of rice, mixed with vinegar and some type of raw fish.”

“RAW FISH!?”

(Name) jumped at the sound of his voice, Kurapika’s eyebrow twitching in annoyance.

“We’re stuck out here in the middle of a forest!”

Kurapika threw his spoon at Leorio, hitting his forehead.

“Would you be quiet? There are rivers in forests you know and we could fish in them!”

“Hmph.”

The two looked around, seeing all the other applicants staring at them. Menacingly.

They raced out of the building, leaving the three alone. (Name) set her bag down and began running after them, Kurapika and Leorio following her lead.

“It’s no fair! They were eavesdropping!”

Kurapika sighed. “It’s not their fault, I was the one who shot my mouth off.”

“This sucks! Now everyone knows what’s in it!”

(Name) patted Kurapika on the shoulder. “I’m sure they would have figured it out anyways. Considering we were about to leave and return with fish.”

He gave her a small smile. “Thanks.”

———————

The three returned with fish of varying types. (Name) traded Gon a few pieces of candy in exchange for a few fish.

“Well, all that’s left is to cook. Good luck boys!”

She gave them both a reassuring pat on the back before beginning her cooking process.

(Name) thought back to what Menchi had said, along with Kurapika’s limited information.

‘Does that mean the fish is supposed to be molded into the rice? Or the rice covers it?’

She tilted her head as she began to clean the fish. ‘Well, I assume I’ll at least need to cut it into fillets. After all, no one is dumb enough to serve her a whole, raw fish, right?”

Wrong.

(Name) watched with an incredulous expression as Leorio served Menchi an entire fish, still flipping around, halfway covered in rice.

Of course, Menchi rightly knocked the plate away. Leorio sulked back to his station.

“She didn’t like it…”

(Name) raised an eyebrow, but stayed quiet. ‘So he wasn’t kidding when he said he’s never cooked before…’

“What are you making?”

(Name) looked up to see Kurapika peeking over her shoulder. “Hey, no peeking!”

She bumped him with her hip, scolding him. “No cheating off of me!”

He pouted. “I wasn’t trying to… I was just curious.”

“Well be curious in that direction.”

“No, because you’re pointing at Leorio.”

“HEY!”

(Name) giggled to herself as she finished her dish, beaming. “I’m done!”

She carried her plate to Menchi, setting it down in front of her. “Here’s my entry!”

Menchi hummed, seemingly interested from the smell alone.

“It’s sushi! I um… think!”

Menchi looked down at the dish. It definitely wasn’t sushi, but the girl had obviously tried, and if Menchi appreciated anything, it was effort.

The blue haired woman took a bite. “Hmm… too salty, but good try. It’s not quite sushi, but it tastes good. Go back and try again.”

(Name) blinked, then nodded. She felt dejected, she’d tried her hardest!

She walked back to her station, grabbing her bag. “(Name), what are you doing?”

“I give up.”

The two stared at her. “You give up? Why??”

“I’m a failure, I couldn’t make sushi.”

“(Name).”

Kurapika patted her head. “Don’t be so hard on yourself. Your dish is the only one Menchi has even taken a bite of so far. Why don’t you try again?”

(Name) pouted. “… I’m going to go sit by the river.”

The two watched her walk away, her head hung low.

“Drama queen.” Leorio said, before getting back to his work.

“Well…” Kurapika stared in her direction for a moment. “She’s certainly… dramatic.”

But the blonde couldn’t help following her with his eyes, his eyebrows furrowing.

“Hey Kurapika, come try this! (Name) had some leftovers!”

Kurapika sighed. “You shouldn’t just eat the food she prepared…”

But he did join Leorio, taking a bite. “Oh wow, it is really good.”

The two snacked on her leftover food before getting back to work.

(Name)’s eyebrow twitched when she noticed Hisoka already sitting by the river. ‘Fuck it. Yolo.’

(Name) sat down a few feet away from him, tossing rocks into the water. She wasn’t even attempting to skip them, just throwing them into the river.

“… (Name).”

She hesitantly looked at him, raising an eyebrow. “What?”

“What are you doing here?”

She huffed. “Sulking.”

“Hmm.”

(Name) went back to her rock throwing, Hisoka now watching her. “Gave up that easily, huh?”

She paused. “As if you didn’t as well?”

He smirked. “Touché.”

The two sat in silence for a bit, before (Name) heard someone running up behind her. “(Name)- oh.”

The person paused a good distance away from her. “Can you come here? Away from…”

Hisoka raised his hand. “I’m not going to hurt her. We were just… talking.”

‘Oh now people are going to think I’m friendly with the murder clown.’

(Name) stood up, and stuck out her tongue at Hisoka for good measure. ‘There, now people will think I hate him! Orrr that I have a death wish. Which isn’t exactly wrong but-‘

“(Name), we know what sushi is now!”

It was Kurapika, and he was smiling at her. “Come on, now we’ve got a real chance to pass!”

Her pulled her back to the building by her hand, smiling widely. She couldn’t help but smile too.

‘He thought of me.’

———————

Though they all tried their hardest, even after figuring out how to make sushi, none of them could satisfy Menchi.

She poured herself a cup of green tea, sipping slowly. “Ah..”

(Name) had just given her the last piece of sushi, and had been rejected yet again.

“Sorry, but I’m completely stuffed!”

Hanzo blinked. “So then, what happens now?”

“Like I said, the test is over and this time no one passed. Thank you, come again.”

The air grew tense, (Name) too busy pouting to really care. ‘But I tried so hard…’

She only looked up when Gon stole Menchi’s phone.

“Oh dear.”

She turned her head when she heard someone destroy one of the cooking stations. ‘Sore loser.’ (Name) thought, munching on piece of candy.

“Alright, I’ll show you what it means to be a Gourmet Hunter.”

Menchi left, saying she’d be back in about an hour. (Name) took this as an opportunity to chat with Buhara.

“Sorry that people are being disrespectful. I’m actually a chef myself, but not on any level close to you two.”

Buhara seemed a bit surprised by her comment. “Ah, that makes sense. Menchi seemed to enjoy your dishes the best. If she hadn’t been so picky today, I’m sure she would have passed you.”

(Name) nodded. “Yeah, but that’s not how things went.”

She sat down next to him, taking out a piece of candy and handing it to the man. “Here, I know after I’ve eaten a savory meal I like to have something a little sweet to balance it out.”

‘This girl…’

He took the candy. ‘I’m starting to understand Menchi’s interest in her.’

(Name) and Buhara chatted, exchanging recipes and laughing over stories about cooking gone wrong.

“Is she becoming friends with the examiner?”

Kurapika watched her, eyes wide. Leorio cheered. “Yeah, butter him up (Name)! Use your womanly charm and get us a passing grade!”

Kurapika smacked him over the head. “First of all, she’s not doing that. Secondly, if she was, you screaming out her plans would foil them.”

“Oh.”

Menchi returned, momentarily glancing at (Name) and Buhara with a raised eyebrow before showing off her finds.

(Name) watched as the brute from before kicked the table Menchi had served the plate on over, nearly hitting (Name) in the face.

To her surprise, Buhara extended a hand to shield her. “Oh, thank you!”

He gave her a nod. “No problem.”

A few applicants attempted to get near Machi, but Buhara hit them with surprising strength. “Ooo get ‘em!!” (Name) called, cheering him on.

The wrestler Todo ended up pushing Buhara over, but the man seemed unfazed. “Ooo, you’re pretty strong. Guess it’s time to get serious. Think you can handle it?”

Menchi stepped in. “I can take care of him by myself.”

(Name) stared wide eyed as Menchi beat the absolute SHIT out of Todo, only using her legs.

‘That’s kind of hot.’ (Name) thought.

Kurapika pulled (Name) to safety. “Come here, it’s not safe over there.”

“Oh.”

She hadn’t realized, but it had become kind of a fighting zone. Kurapika noticed she kept staring at Menchi, but didn’t think much. Her and Satotz were arguing, (Name) only catching the end of it.

“I was trying to see how resourceful these guys were. Could they face a challenge for which they had little or no experience?”

“That may be true, Menchi, but since no one passed that test, don’t you think it may have been a bit too difficult?”

‘Oh god the sky is talking.’

“It’s an airship with the Hunter Association’s logo!”

‘Oh. That makes more sense.’ (Name) thought, being pulled outside by Kurapika.

“Oh shit an old guy!” (Name) gasped, pointing at an old man falling from the sky. “I was not expecting to see an old man die today.”

The man landed, seemingly unfazed. ‘Oh so he’s some sort of wizard. Wait did she say chairman?’

Killua and Gon seemed surprised he hadn’t broken his legs. “I’m surprised he isn’t a chairman pancake.” (Name) said, patting Gon on the head.

Apparently, he was the highest authority in the Hunter Association.

(Name) stood near Menchi, glancing at her at her as Netero talked. ‘She’s cute.’

“I have an idea. We’re going to give them all a second chance at the test, and I would like for you to continue being the examiner for this. But this time around I want you to demonstrate how it’s done before the applicants make an attempt. Does that sound reasonable? I think this will go a long way for everyone to accept your ruling.”

The group of five were relieved that they would be getting a second chance.

“The test is, a boiled egg.”

———————

The group rode on the airship to a large mountain.

“So, this is the spot.” Menchi said, standing before a cliff.

“What is this place?”

“How deep is it, I can’t see the bottom?”

Menchi smiled. “Not to worry, at the bottom is a deep river. Now, watch and learn boys.”

She fell backwards down the cliff.

“This deep ravine happens to be home of the spider eagle. And she’s gone down to retrieve one of its eggs.” Netero informed the group. (Name) peeked over the cliff.

“Wow!”

Menchi climbed back up with ease, pulling the egg from her bra. “You might want to be a little careful, the river runs very fast so if you fall you’ll be whisked out to sea before you know what hit ya!”

(Name) handed her bag to Buhara. “Could you watch this for me, please?”

He nodded, the group gasping when she rushed forward and jumped. “(Name)!”

They all followed after her, (Name) holding onto one of the strings and swinging up to stand on one. “Whew, I’m awful at the balancing act!”

Kurapika stared at her, blinking. “(Name), please be careful.”

She blinked. “Oh, sorry. I’ll try.”

Killua glanced at her from his spot, already finding an egg. ‘She should be alright…’ he thought, before going back to his task.

The boy furrowed his eyebrows. ‘Why am I concerned for her safety? She’s just some woman…’

Eagles began attacking the contestants, (Name) managing to climb up to Kurapika. The boy held onto her, keeping her steady. “Did you get an egg?”

(Name) nodded, pointing to her chest. “I’m following Menchi’s example!”

The blonde blushed, quickly changing the subject. “… let’s climb up before the eagles come back.

———————

Menchi had them drop all of their eggs into a large pot. “Don’t think the test is over yet! You still have to boil them. Over cooking or under cooking will fail you!”

Buhara began to sweat, staring at the pot. (Name) placed a hand on his arm. “You alright, Buhara?”

“I think he knows something we don’t!”

The group began pulling their eggs out, (Name) patting his arm after. Menchi seemed pissed. “You couldn’t have made it anymore obvious!”

Menchi glanced at (Name) yet again, calming slightly. “This is an ordinary chicken egg, and this is a spider eagle egg. Now go ahead and compare how they taste!”

(Name) glanced at Menchi, before halving her egg and handing it to her. “Here!”

The woman blushed, taking it. “Oh, um… thank you, applicant 406.”

“My name is (Name).” She said with a sweet smile.

“Thank you, (Name).”

The women smiled, eating together. “Menchi, this is delicious! Wow, gourmet hunters sure know their stuff!”

The woman seemed to become flustered from (Name)’s praise. “I appreciate you taking the time to speak with us. Buhara told me how kind you were to him earlier. I…”

She shook her head, turning her attention to the group. “Listen up, for the second phase, 43 pass! Menchi’s Menu is over!”

The all cheered, (Name) pulling in her four friends in for a hug. “Hehe!”

The group boarded the airship, on their way to the next phase.

128 notes · View notes

illdowhatiwantthanks · 2 months

Text

She Likes You Anyway

Casey Novak x autistic fem!reader Warnings: Foster care (please don't read if the subject matter is triggering for you!) Word count: 1,705

You sat on the couch, staring at the door and furiously tapping your legs. Casey squeezed your hands between hers to keep them from shaking. Even so, you rocked slowly back and forth, the rhythm and movement calming you.

“Are you sure you’re okay?” Casey asked, a concerned expression on her face.

“Well, it’s a little late to turn back now.”

Casey sighed and circled her thumbs over your hands. “What are you worried about?”

You shrugged. “I don’t know, that I’ll be a shit parent?”

“Hey,” she said, grabbing your head to hold you steady.. “We’ve been over this. You are kind and empathetic and you make people feel safe. And you’re great with kids.”

You took a deep breath and nodded, slowing your tapping.

“If anybody should be worried, it’s me,” Casey added. “I really didn’t want a baby.”

It was your turn to comfort Casey now. She tried to look strong–she always did. But she was biting her lip and picking at the corner of her nails, telltale signs that she was more anxious than she let on. You drew circles with your fingers on her thighs.

“You’re gonna do great,” you said. “We already did the most important thing right.”

“What do you mean?”

“We kept the siblings together.”

Casey shrugged. “I guess you’re right,” she mumbled.

“No, Case,” you said, your voice emphatic. “I’m definitely right. You don’t get it as much because you don’t have siblings. My siblings are my life, you know that. It would have killed me to be separated from them. And we–you–said yes to a baby, even though it’s not what you planned for, so they could stay together.”

Casey exhaled shakily and leaned her head against your shoulder. “What if we fuck up our foster kids, Y/N?”

“I mean, at least we had good intentions,” you replied, chuckling slightly.

“I’m serious!” she complained, pushing you slightly.

“Look, we’re gonna be fine. And they’re gonna be fine. You’re spiraling more than me now. We gotta pull it together.”

You wrapped your arm around her shoulders, pulling her close and breathing her in. You both jumped when a knock on the door interrupted your silence.

Casey stood quickly, smoothing her hair, then extending a hand to you. “Well,” she shrugged. “Here goes.”

You’d been given almost no information about the kids. All you knew was that there would be three of them, and one of them was under a year old. You’d be lying if you said you weren’t out-of-your-mind nervous. Three kids for your very first foster placement. But the bottom line was that there were three kids who needed a place to stay, where they’d be safe and loved and together. And you and Casey could provide that for as long as they needed it.

You opened the door to a very frazzled case worker with a baby on her hip, a toddler holding her hand, and another child hiding behind her back.

Casey invited them in, always better with the formalities than you, and the caseworker nearly ran to the couch, shoving the baby into your arms. Your maternal instincts, honed from years of big sisterhood, kicked in, and you quickly cradled him in your arms. You breathed him in, that specific, powdery baby smell, that reminded you so much of your brother when he was this age.

“Hi,” you cooed at him. “Hi, little man.” He immediately clenched his fists and bawled, squirming in your arms. “Okay,” you said, running a hand through his dark curls. You repositioned him so that his face was pressed into your chest and bounced him around the room.

You looked at Casey and the caseworker, who sat on the couch over a pile of paperwork. You’d never been more relieved to have a lawyer for a partner. You also smiled to notice that the toddler, a little girl, was seated in between them, sucking her thumb, and that Casey’s hand was resting on her back.

The two of you made eye contact across the room, and she furrowed her eyebrows at you, as if to ask, Are you okay? You nodded back, pressing the sobbing baby closer to your chest, and whispered, “Shh, it’s okay. It’s okay.”

The oldest child sat on the opposite end of the sectional, fiddling with a fidget spinner. Her shoulders were hunched protectively inward, hood pulled up, and she avoided your eyes as you walked closer.

“I bet you know the best ways to calm him down,” you said, sitting down next to her as the baby hiccuped in your lap, red-faced.

The older girl shot a furtive glance at you, then looked away again.

“What’s his name?” you asked.

“King,” she whispered, so quietly you almost couldn’t hear.

“King,” you repeated. “Cool name for a cool kid, huh?”

Hearing his name seemed to calm King down a bit, and he leaned into you, spent. You rubbed his back absentmindedly and turned your attention to the withdrawn girl on the edge of the couch.

“I’m Y/N,” you said. “And, uh, the lady over there is Casey. I know you probably have a lot of feelings right now, and you might be scared.” The girl tensed. “That’s okay. And you don’t have to talk if you don’t want to. But Casey and I are gonna make sure that you’re safe and taken care of, and we’re here for whatever you need, okay?”

She was silent for a long time, reaching out a finger to let King wrap his hand around it. You’d just about given up on any further conversation when she said, “Are you gay together?”

You grinned, trying not to laugh. “Yep. Yeah, we are.”

Her face scrunched up, like she was thinking very deeply about your relationship.

“I’m Imogen,” she finally said.

“Nice to meet you, Imogen.” She still wouldn’t look at you, but it was a start. And who were you to judge, anyway? You didn’t like eye contact either.

“She’s really pretty,” Imogen said, inclining her head toward Casey, who now held the toddler in her lap.

“She is.” You leaned in closer to Imogen, as if to tell her a secret. “I really lucked out.”

“She’s taller than you.” Day one, and Imogen was already laying it all out on the table.

“She sure is.”

“And your hair is like a boy.”

“Yep,” you said, running a hand through it.

“She likes you anyway.” You couldn’t tell if this was a question or a statement.

“Seems like it,” you confirmed, adjusting King in your lap as he snoozed. “I mean, I hope so. We live together and everything.”

“Why?” Imogen asked, finally meeting your eyes. Hers were defiant, almost angry, a dark brown that deepened in the fading light.

“Why do we live together?”

“Why does she like you?”

You grinned. Casey would die when you relayed this conversation to her later. She’d lord it over you for years.

“I don’t know,” you shrugged. “Must be my winning personality.”

“You’re funny,” Imogen decided, scooting a little closer to you.

“Thanks,” you replied, pleased with the progress you’d made. “What’s your sister’s name?” you asked, nodding toward the toddler on Casey’s lap.

“Laylie,” Imogen groaned. “She’s annoying.”

“Yeah, I get it,” you commiserated. “I have a little sister, too.”

“She always colors everything pink.”

“You don’t like pink?”

“No,” she said, emphatically.

“Well,” you said. “We’ve got three rooms for you guys, so if you want to sleep in your own room, you can.”

Imogen squirmed. “No, I want to stay with Laylie.”

“Okay,” you assured her. “That’s fine, too.”

“Sometimes she cries at night and I have to help her stop.”

You watched as Imogen bit her fingernails. You wondered where these kids had come from, what they’d been through, why they’d ended up here, at your and Casey’s house at 4:00 pm on a Tuesday. But you wouldn’t ask. They’d tell you when they were ready.

“You’re a good sister,” you said. “But, you know, if you want to keep sleeping or if Laylie’s being annoying, you can always wake up me or Casey and we’ll help Laylie. Plus, I think she already likes Casey.” You pointed at Casey, who now stood at the door with Laylie on her hip, saying goodbye to the caseworker.

After the door shut, everything stood still for a moment. Everything would change, you realized. Everything had changed. Casey sat down in an armchair across from you, letting Laylie down to explore, and you just looked at each other. You couldn’t say exactly what was in that look, but it was I love you and We can do this and Watching you do this makes me love you even more. You knew things wouldn’t always be easy, that tomorrow could be terrible, but you’d handle that like you handled everything: together.

“I’ve met Laylie,” Casey started. “But who else do we have here?”

“This is Imogen,” you said, gesturing to the girl next to you, who’d retreated into her sweatshirt again. “And King.”

“It’s very nice to meet you, Imogen,” Casey said, sharing a glance with you to confirm that Imogen’s shyness wasn’t just for her.

You stood and stretched a bit, King limp in your arms. “Are you guys thirsty? Imogen, you want to come to the fridge and pick a drink? We’ve got juice boxes, lemonade, water, maybe even a soda or two.”

Imogen nodded. You walked over to Casey and, before she could protest, placed King firmly in her arms. “Here, hold him. What do you want? Water?”

Casey glared at you, equal parts stunned and scared. You smiled at her and shrugged. She was scared of babies, scared of how vulnerable they were, afraid to hurt them. You knew she’d have avoided holding King for as long as possible. You also knew this was ridiculous.

You rummaged through the fridge with Imogen, Laylie reaching up to you for a juice box. When you turned around to look over the kitchen island, Casey was running a finger across King’s dimpled chin. She planted a kiss on his head and smiled softly at him, and you knew it was all going to be okay.

#casey novak #casey novak x reader #casey novak one shot #casey novak drabble #casey novak fluff #law and order svu #svu #casey novak fanfic #neurodivergent #autistic #casey novak x autistic reader #x autistic reader #novak family chronicles

34 notes · View notes

bts-hyperfixation · 6 months

Text

Outside of the fox

Chapter 21 of 30

1117 words

Y/N longs for a new life when the one she'd been living comes to an abrupt stop. Without much thought to those she is leaving behind, the little fox packs a backpack and disappears. She stumbles across the shelter and makes an interim home for herself while she works out exactly what she wants from her second chance.

Last

It's late by the time someone emerges from your room. You dread to think what it's going to smell like when you finally get a chance to go back in. You grumble at the thought of having to sleep with the window open letting the winter air in.

You, Hobi, and Taehyung all glance towards the stairs as the sound of heavy footsteps patter down. Namjoon seems a little shocked when he finds you all watching him from the sofa.

"I thought you guys might've all gone to bed by now." He says, scratching at the back of his neck.

"I might've if my bed had been available." You shrugged.

"And we couldn't leave her out here all alone," Taehyung added.

"Right, of course, sorry." The bear mumbled.

You were hoping to have a little bit of fun with him, but it was clear by his expression much more serious conversations had been happening behind that closed door than you had realised. Namjoon shuffled his way to the kitchen, grabbing snacks and water. Clumsily, he dropped the bottles from his arms as he tried to balance too many at once. The man looks close to exasperated tears as he bends down to collect the dropped goods, failing more than once to also keep the crisps in his hands from tumbling too. You jumped up off the sofa and took the drinks away from him before they triggered him into a full meltdown.

He looked up at you, smiling tiredly and accepted your help without objection. You trail behind him as he wanders up the stairs and back into your room.

The other three men are cuddled up on your small temporary bed, a clear empty spot where Namjoon had once been near the headboard. Both Jimin and Jungkook's eyes were rimmed red, and the panda was attached like a limpet to Jungkook, covering every inch of the younger man that he could manage.

Yoongi was laying precariously on the edge, petting Jungkook's hair. Each eyed you curiously as you walked in behind Namjoon, but no one acted territorially like you thought they might. You placed the bottles on your bedside table and went to make a quick exit but a whine came from the middle of the cuddle pile.

You glance back at Jungkook to find him staring at you.

"I'm sorry Kookie, I didn't mean to interrupt." You say, still making your way out of the door to give them more time alone.

You reach to shut the door, but Jungkook pushes Jimin away enough to allow him to sit up. The sudden movement dislodges the delicate balance Yoongi had created; he lands with a rather loud thud on the hard floor. You cringe as you watch him rub the sore spot on his hip, suppressing a growl aimed at the rather apologetic-looking bunny.

Namjoon walks around the bed to help Yoongi up and Jungkook's attention turns back to you.

"Can you stay?" He asks nervously.

"I'm not sure there is enough room for me in here." You say, glancing back at Yoongi.

Yoongi inspects the newly forming bruise.

"I think I might need to go get some ice anyway." The jackal comments. "Are you okay if I go for a minute love?"

Jungkook nods, dismissing the older man, before patting the vacant space next to him. You think about it for a second but relent and do as you're told, climbing into the limited space of your own sheets.

Jungkook allows himself to be reclaimed into Jimin's embrace, but his forehead is pressed against your leg. You glance up at Namjoon but he just looks fondly down at his younger pack members before repositioning himself in the spot that he had left behind.It doesn't take long for Jimin and Namjoon to drift off and Yoongi never reappears. Jungkook's wide eyes stay open and focused up on you. The intensity makes you squirm. He blinks owlishly slow.

"I like that you are here now," he states.

You aren't particularly sure if he is looking for a response. You aren't particularly sure you have a response. It's okay because he continues before you get the chance.

"I didn't before... I didn't know what you'd be like... The only woman I've ever really known is my mum, and she left." He says.

Suddenly some of Jungkook's behaviour clicks into place. Not all of it, but it's like maybe you might've finally found the corner pieces in his puzzle.

"Didn't you have any friends that were girls when you were younger?" You ask, lowering your voice to a whisper to avoid waking the others.

He shakes his head, cringing a little as Jimin stirs on top of him. You both watch and wait for the redhead to resettle before he continues.

"Dad kept me and my brothers at home to be homeschooled after mum left. Said it wasn't safe for bunnies like us to go outside. Of course, my brothers are all older than me, they had gone to real school and had made friends, but I was too little when she went..."

Jungkook continued to tell you more about his home life. All in all, it didn't seem all that different to your own, other than the fact he had more family members to instil fear in him.

He tells you all about the horror stories his brothers used to tell him about scary predators that ate little bunnies and the awful humans that wanted to lock him away in a hutch.

Of course, eventually, his brothers moved out, finding happiness with the people they had managed to meet before their mother left. None of them remembered the terrifying tales they had teased their younger brother with growing up.

But Jungkook remembered.

He'd spent many nights lying awake cringing away from shadows that reminded him of those monsters they had described. His fears were only reinforced by his own father's agoraphobia.

Then when his father passed away, Jungkook had been too afraid to reach out to his brothers for help. Instead, he chose to live in their old family home until the electric was switched off and the water stopped running.

That's where Jimin found him. Sent on a mission from the shelter, he recovered the poor rabbit from the debris of his old life and ushered him home. It seemed Jimin had a habit of picking up strays...

By the time Jungkook had finished telling you his story, his eyes were drooping, millimetres from closing completely. But you could only focus on the haunted expression hidden inside. It was evident that no matter how content he felt in this home, he would never feel completely safe, not if he goes on like this.

You absentmindedly reach out to pet his hair, dragging the strands through your fingers until you hear him softly snoring. Then you rest your own head back against Namjoon's chest, drifting off in a position that will no doubt leave you with an obnoxious kink in your neck.

_______________

AN: Sorry guys didn't mean to go MIA. My grandfather passed away so I had to fly home to be with my family and then I was getting back into work. Hopefully, I am back in action for now. Sorry, this is a short one.

Masterlist

Send me asks - doesn't have to be fic related. Can be smutty, thirsty, fluffy, angsty, whatever you're feeling regarding BTS. Can be literally anything doesn't have to be BTS

#bts fic #bts smut #kpop fic #kpop smut #namjoon smut #jungkook smut #bts imagines #jimin smut #taehyung smut #seokjin smut #yoongi smut #hoseok smut #bts polyamory #bts poly au #bts poly x reader #bts hybrid au #bts hybrid x reader #bts hybrid fic #bts slowburn

69 notes · View notes

midnight-fauna · 23 days

Text

"i just wanna trust what is mine" (huskerdust)

Pairing: Angel Dust/Husk

Chapter: 1/1

Word count: 5,063

Summary: Five times Angel didn't want to be touched by anyone. And the one time he did.

A/N: Originally posted on my Ao3 under "TheExtrovertOutcast".

Trigger warnings: implied physical/sexual abuse, heavy swearing, canon-typical amounts of innuendos, touch-aversion, brief descriptions of panic attacks

Angel staggered into the Hazbin Hotel, slamming the front doors shut behind him. He was practically limping. Valentino had worked him to the goddamn bone, insisting he tried out new kinks that Angel didn’t even know people could have. Sick bastards.

He plopped down on one of the barstools in the lobby, groaning indignantly at the added discomfort for his ass. “Whiskers, I’m gon’ need your strongest shit,” he said, mustering up one of his flirty smiles. He sure as hell didn’t need the new “bar-therapist” to comment about his current state. “And if you could top it off with one of them cute li’l umbrellas, that’d be wonderful,” he added, drawing out the last syllable.

Husk scoffed. “The fuck does this look like?” He gestured pointedly around him. Given both Husk and the bar were fairly recent add-ons to the hotel, there wasn’t a lot other than cheap alcohol and the occasional roach.

Sighing over-dramatically, Angel got up off the stool, ignoring how his entire fucking body protested. “‘Gotta do everything myself,” he complained. He circled behind the counter and began inspecting what they had.

“You can’t just-” Husk began.

“Listen, toots, I get you’re the bartender and all that, but that don’t mean you’re the only one who can make a drink worth shit,” Angel interrupted, his multiple hands searching through the rows of bottles. Alastor clearly didn’t give a rat’s ass about stocking the hotel with half-decent booze.

Husk threw his hands up in the air. “Fine. Whatever. It’s not like I get paid to deal with you fuckers anyways,” he muttered. “‘Bar’s all yours.”

With that, Husk shuffled to move past Angel. Given the cramped space, Husk had to brush up right against him.

Angel froze.

He could do touch. Hell, touch was his entire goddamn career. Outside of work, he touched people all the time. He’d flirtily caress practically anyone who crossed his path. He’d cup their cheeks (face or ass, depending on his mood), whisper filthy shit in their ear, trace his fingers over their lips - whatever worked to give him some semblance of control over the situation.

But people touching him? He wasn’t in control. He wasn’t the one initiating. And all too soon in scenarios like that, no matter how innocent the touch, he’d be reminded of all the sick shit Valentino had him do.

It was almost funny, in a fucked up way: a pornstar that hated people touching him.

Immediately, Angel yanked himself away from Husk, practically bolting to the other side of the bar. Husk shot him a confused look.

“You’re, uh, right,” Angel coughed out, desperately trying to cram down the panic rising up in his gut. “There isn’t anything in those bottles worth putting in my body. And that’s saying a lot, comin’ from a guy like me.”

The joke didn’t land as smoothly as he hoped it would. Fuckin’ Husk and his judgemental cat eyes. He felt like the man was staring right into his chained soul, seeing every last vulnerable part of him.

“Tell Alastor to get better stuff,” Angel added in a futile attempt to sound casual. Offering another bullshit grin, he hurried away from the bar, feeling Husk’s eyes on him the entire time.

ii.

It wasn’t often that Angel met someone he couldn’t seduce or at least get some kind of sexual reaction from. Obviously, there were exceptions - lesbians, asexuals, and, occasionally, a straight man with no taste. But as far as people who were attracted to men? Angel never had a problem riling them up.

That was why Husk confused him so goddamn much.

Angel knew the bastard liked dick to some extent; Husk had mentioned a previous gay fling he’d had when he was still alive. And yet, Angel couldn’t get so much as a blush. A stutter. Fuckin’ anything. It bruised his ego more than he’d like to admit.

“Man, stop staring at me. You’re creeping me the fuck out.”

Husk’s voice snapped Angel back to reality. The two were on couches across from each other in the hotel lobby. The book Husk had been reading was bookmarked and his full attention was on Angel.

Showtime.

“‘Can’t blame a guy for starin’ at what he likes,” Angel purred. Everyone liked flattery, especially in Hell where a solid ninety-nine percent of the population was egotistical shitbags. “Those reading glasses you got on are enough to make anyone fuckin’ drool, toots.”

Unfortunately, that made Husk promptly take them off, setting the glasses down on the wooden coffee table. “Cut the shit, Angel. You know that stuff doesn’t work on me.”

“Oh, come on,” Angel whined. He got up off the couch, sauntering over to Husk. He made a show of stretching out his limbs, letting his crop top ride up even higher. Shit like this would make most people hot in all the right places, but Husk didn’t even look fazed.

He was practically showing off his entire lower torso by the time he swooped down to Husk’s couch, lounging as close as he could to him. “I know folks who would kill to touch me even once,” Angel crooned, “and here I am offerin’ myself up to you and you ain’t gonna do nothin’ about it?”

Husk snorted in response. “Just because you’re a pornstar doesn’t mean everyone wants to sleep with you.”

Angel wrinkled his nose at that. Of course everyone wanted to sleep with him. That was his whole fuckin’ appeal. That’s why he was Valentino’s favorite, for fuck’s sake.

Deciding to amp up his antics, Angel raised his hand up, gently caressing Husk’s cheek. Maybe he liked ‘em sweeter with less dirty talk. It wasn’t Angel’s favorite role to play, but he could pull it off.

He ran his hand down Husk’s jaw, trailing down his neck, going to his chest-

“Stop.” Husk’s arm shot up, grabbing Angel’s wrist a little too tightly and yanking it away from him. And suddenly, the pressure was all-too-much like Valentino’s chains, his sharp nails, the goddamn bruises-

“Okay!” Angel yelled, much louder than he’d intended to, snatching his wrist back, pulling it close to his chest. “Fuckin’ okay! I get it!”

It wasn’t Husk’s fault. Deep down, Angel knew that. He was the one who had crossed boundaries, gone too far. But fuck it, it was easier to be pissed at Husk than to take responsibility for himself.

Angel turned abruptly, speed-walking away from the lounge, away from Husk, away from the situation, away from anything that could bring those memories back. He nearly tripped on Nifty and, despite growing kind of fond of her, he ignored her.

Charlie rushed into the room. “Angel! I heard yelling-” She stopped, looking at him worriedly. “Angel, are you-”

“Just leave me the hell alone,” Angel snapped, pushing past her.

He fucking hoped she didn’t see how close he was to crying.

iii.

The day had been a shitshow.

For some goddamn reason, Charlie decided to show up at Valentino’s studio, try to convince him to chill (like that’d ever work), and then accidentally set fire to fuckin’ everything. In response, Valentino had made him do every disgusting act known to man, all without breaks. And to top the shitty night off, Husk had the gall to judge him - call him “fake”, treat Angel like a goddamn kid, and try to fuckin’ act like he was anything better than Angel.

Fuck Husk. Fuck Valentino. Fuck everyone except for the booze in his hand and the loan sharks around him paying for it.

“Hey, baby, be a doll and bring me another one,” Angel cooed to the shark beside him that looked like he had a spiked dildo for a nose. “Daddy’s out of juice.”

Angel lounged back as Dildo-Nose got up and headed towards the bar. Even with what felt like gallons of alcohol in his system, Angel was still exhausted - both physically and emotionally. He had genuinely thought things were getting better for him. The hotel had seemed more welcoming than it used to. For a while, he actually felt like he had some semblance of home. Sure, the place was filled with fuckin’ weirdos, but they’d begun to grow on him. Except for Alastor. That motherfucker still creeped Angel out.

Dildo-Nose’s raspy voice snapped him back to reality. “Here you go, darling. Just for you-” He was about to hand Angel the drink when he was suddenly snatched backward.

“Nice try, fuckhead.”

Angel physically gawked at the sight of Husk grabbing Dildo-Nose and flinging him straight into the jukebox. He barely had time to register what the fuck was going on before Husk grabbed him, throwing cards like they were ninja-stars at the remaining loan sharks.

“Hey, hey, hey, hey!” Angel protested loudly, tripping over himself repeatedly as Husk dragged him out of the nightclub, the two narrowly missing the several bullets being shot their way.

By the time they made it out onto the sidewalk, Angel had finally begun to process the situation, but he still couldn’t understand why it was happening. “Husk, what the actual fuck are you doing here?” he demanded.

It was then that his senses caught up to him and he realized Husk was physically restraining him. Despite what his films would have people think, Angel fucking hated being held still. It made him feel helpless in all the wrong ways. It made him feel trapped, weak, easy to use, easy to abuse.

“Let go of me!” Angel shouted, hating the way his voice cracked when he did. He tried to yank his upper set of arms back. He needed his fucking control back. He was panicking and it was beginning harder and harder to hide it.

Husk kept his grip firm. It was infuriating that he was stronger than Angel. “No, I’m taking you back to the hotel,” he said.

Heart racing for all the wrong reasons, Angel continued to struggle against Husk. He tried telling himself that he wasn’t at the studio, that he wasn’t with Valentino, that he knew Husk wouldn’t try shit, but- “Get off!”

Angel yanked back hard enough and finally - fucking finally - Husk let him go. “That fucker put something in your drink,” Husk hissed.

“You don’t think I can tell if someone spikes my drink? I do this all the fucking time.” Angel’s heart was threatening to break out of his ribs, pounding so loud he could barely hear Husk. He wanted to run, but he didn’t want to risk Husk grabbing him again.

Husk stared at him in disbelief. “You just let people drug you all the time?”

Angel was about two seconds away from a breakdown. “You think I ask for it?! I don’t ask for any of this shit! I didn’t ask to be this way! I didn’t ask for Charlie to save me! I didn’t ask for you to save me. I can handle myself.”

“Really? Because I just saw someone self-destructing,” Husk retorted. “It seems like - I don’t know - you might need a bartender to talk to.”

Despite all the hiding and masking and acting Angel had done for as long as he could remember, he broke down right in front of the guy who he was seeking approval from most. He admitted fucking everything - the pretending, the escapism, the self-destruction, the hatred, the fear, all of it - laying out his deepest insecurities for Husk to see.

And, to Angel’s surprise, Husk didn’t judge him. In fact, he admitted to once being an Overlord and the mistakes he made that led him up to then.

It was almost comforting, knowing that someone else got it and really understood what Angel had been through. What he was still going through.

It was kind of nice.

iv.

“Alright! Thank you everyone for coming to today’s group bonding session!” Charlie cheered happily, clapping her hands together. She, Angel, Husk, Vaggie, Nifty, and Sir Pentious were gathered in the hotel lobby. Thankfully, Alastor was nowhere to be found. “For this afternoon’s activity, we’re all going to go around in a circle and everyone will give each person in the group a compliment! A great way to build trust is to feel appreciated by those around you!”

“Compliments?” Sir Pentious asked with a head tilt, drawing out the last consonant in a hiss. “Like telling someone they would make a worthy adversary?”

Charlie sucked in a breath. “Um, kind of! Sure!” she said, her painfully optimistic personality trying its best to shine through.

“I get hundreds of compliments a day about my looks, so I expect some original shit from you all,” Angel said with a grin. He was lounging on one of the lobby couches, Husk beside him. Since their fight and eventual make-up a month earlier, they’d begun to get along surprisingly well. They were a hell of a weird pair, but somehow, they made it work.

“Angel actually brings up a great point!” Charlie shot him a pleased smile. “We should all try to make our compliments sincere and about the person themselves, not just about their appearance! Angel, how about you go first?”

Angel nearly choked on air, covering it up with a cough. “Uh- I don’t know. Sentimentality ain’t really my thing, sweetheart,” he said, glancing around at the group. Sure, he’d say he was friendly with everyone, but he didn’t know the first thing about “sincere” compliments. “With my line of work, I tend to only praise people’s dick size.”

“Oooookay!” Charlie exhaled, still beaming from ear to ear, but her eyes revealed she did not know how to respond to that last part. “Well, er, even if they’re not… perfectly sincere compliments, how about you just give it your best shot?”

“Alright, fine, fine,” Angel said, waving his hand in the air dismissively. “Uh, here goes nothin’, I guess. Nifty,” he began, looking down at the carpet where she was sitting, grimacing at the number of dead roaches in a pile beside her, “you are… without a doubt, the most insane woman I’ve ever had the pleasure of knowin’ and that’s sayin’ something.”

“Angel-!” Vaggie sounded like he was about to scold him, but was abruptly cut off by the sound of Nifty’s borderline-maniacal giggling.

Nifty rushed over to Angel, offering him one of the dead roaches like a pleased housecat offering her owner a mangy mouse. “That’s the nicest thing anyone’s ever said to me,” she giggled, a familiar crazed look in her single eye. “I’ll name one of the stains on the carpet after you~”

Deciding it was safer to take that shit as a sign of goodwill, Angel nodded, picking up the roach by a leg and setting it to the side. “Wow, uh, thanks, Nifty. That’s… wonderful.”

She skittered back to her roach pile, humming softly to herself.

“Vaggie,” Angel paused, for a second, knowing he’d have to choose his words a little more carefully, “you’re scarily good at killin’ people and takin’ charge. The hotel’s, uh, lucky to have you protectin’ it.”

“That was surprisingly decent of you to say,” Vaggie said with raised eyebrows.

Angel turned away. Hell, this all felt humiliating. He wasn’t one to make people actually like him for anything other than sex. He never even signed up for this goody-two-shoes shtick. Initially, he’d only joined for the hotel so he had a free place to stay as far from Valentino as possible when he wasn’t working.

He glanced at Charlie, giving her an expression along the lines of, “Do I really have to keep going?” Unfortunately for him, she gave him a nod and a vaguely encouraging thumbs up.

Deciding to try and get it over as fast as possible, he quickly rattled out, “Charlie, you do great at running this hotel. I used to think you had a zero percent chance of redeemin’ Hell’s worst, but now I think you have a solid eight percent chance, so that’s progress. Sir Pentious, you’re fuckin’ weird as hell, but I’m beginnin’ to like you. And, screw it, if you want to go after Cherri Bomb, I ain’t gonna stop you. She bit her last ex’s head off, so to be honest, I’m more worried for you.”

Charlie was silent, clearly trying to process all the bullshittery that spewed out of Angel’s mouth. Sir Pentious, however, seemed elated. “Really? So, you think I have a chance with her? This is brilliant news! I will have my dear Egg Bois set up a courtship invitation with her!” His weird-ass snake eyes were practically shimmering with excitement.

Apparently relieved at Sir Pentious’ positive reaction, Charlie smiled again. “That seemed to go well! Perfect! Now, you just need to give Husk a compliment and we can move on to the next person!”

Right. Husk. Angel tried to swallow down his nervousness as he turned to Husk. He was cool with everyone else at the hotel. Friendship might be a strong word, but it was something like that. But with Husk? There was something deeper: a mutual understanding, shared trauma, maybe actual trust - if that was still something Angel could actually fucking feel.

“Come on. Surely, you have one nice thing to say about me,” Husk said with an easy-going smile, light sarcasm lacing his tone.

Angel scoffed, trying to keep his usual air of nonchalance. “I don’t know. Nothing’s comin’ to mind. I guess you’re a half-decent drinking buddy,” he said, teasing a little. “You, uh, get me… in ways other folks don’t. And because of that, you’re pretty damn patient with me, even when I’m a whiny asshole, which I appreciate. A lot. You’re fun to hang around. I feel comfortable around you, which, shit, I don’t think I’ve ever felt since workin’ for Valentino. You’re a real cool son of a bitch and I’m lucky to have you.”

He suddenly became very aware that the room had fallen silent. Hell, even Nifty wasn’t doing her creepy ritualistic-sounding humming. He’d been rambling. He’d let too much spill. Fuck, fuck, fuck.

“That actually means a lot to me,” Husk said, a little grin on his face. He reached up and placed his hand on Angel’s shoulder. And for a blissful second, it felt fine. It felt okay. Until Angel’s goddam mind became too acutely aware of how close Husk’s fingers were to his neck, how easily he could grab him by the throat just like how Valentino did so often. Angel knew Husk would never do that. Of course, he knew that. But the fear was still there. Consuming him, fucking torturing him every second that Husk’s hand was on his shoulder.

Angel shrugged his shoulder and thankfully, it made Husk’s touch fall away. Trying to recover, Angel cleared his throat loudly. “Right. Okay. Next person.”

It took until the end of the group activity for Angel’s heart to finally calm down.

Angel had been at Hazbin Hotel for over five months and it had genuinely begun to feel like home. He couldn’t remember the last time a place felt like that, even back when he was alive.

He was helping restock Husk’s bar with better shit after the two of them had gone out and bought about three dozen bottles of actually decent booze. In all honesty, Angel couldn’t care less about the quality of their alcohol (he’d drank a lot worse, both on Earth and in Hell). Lately, he’d been looking for more and more excuses to spend time with Husk.

It wasn’t a crush, per se. Angel was a fucking pornstar, for Lucifer’s sake. He didn’t get horny-people shit like that. It was just that he enjoyed Husk’s company. That was all.

At least, that’s what he kept telling himself.

Speak of the devil, Husk came around the bar, a box of bottles clanking together in his arms. “Vaggie offered to give us some of her collection that she used to hide from Charlie. I took a look at them and honestly, she has some good shit in here.”

“Yeah?” Angel smiled in spite of himself. “‘Doesn’t surprise me that she hid it. I don’t think Charlie’s still too thrilled that we got a bar in her redemption joint.”

Husk shrugged, setting the box down on the bar top. “I don’t know. Maybe she could turn it into a lesson on healthy moderation.”

Angel snorted. “Sure sounds like somethin’ she’d do.”

He began sifting through the bottles, taking a few of them out to inspect the labels. After a while, he became very aware of Husk’s eyes on him. The gaze wasn’t judgemental like it once was when they first met. It felt warmer than that. Softer than that. Angel sure as hell wasn’t used to anyone looking at him in that way.

“These’ll do,” Angel said, feigning a nonchalant demeanor. He turned to begin shelving them away, only for his high-heeled boots to catch on one of Nifty’s roach corpse piles. He nearly went careening to the ground, if not for Husk’s hands grabbing onto his waist, hauling him back up before he could smash both the bottles and possibly his skull onto the hardwood floor.

“Shit-” Angel scrambled to get back his footing, pausing for a few seconds to regain himself before the continued sensation of Husk’s hands on his waist caught up to him.

It’s just Husk. It’s just Husk, he tried to tell himself. God-fucking-damnit, he hated the way he couldn’t handle even innocent physical touch, not even from the man he trusted the fuckin’ most. What is wrong with me?

In an attempt to save himself from an oncoming panic attack, Angel yanked himself away from Husk, awkwardly smoothing down his clothes. “You’d think I’d be more careful where I step after livin’ with Nifty for as long as we have now,” he joked, willing himself to calm down.

Husk’s gaze told Angel he wasn’t buying it. “Angel, do you not like being touched? At all?” he asked, his voice gentle, careful. As if he was afraid that Angel might break down if he was too direct or harsh. His tone made Angel want to cry and he didn’t know whether it was out of shame or relief.

“What? Psssh, nah, what are you talkin’ about?” Angel set the bottles down, giving Husk what he hoped looked like an easy-going grin. “I just don’t want you to get an STD or some shit from me.”

Husk frowned. “You and I both know you can’t get an STD from something like that.”

“You never know! Hell’s a dirty place! There’s probably diseases all over the place, especially on me.” Angel tried to laugh it off, grimacing when he saw Husk’s expression remain serious. “Look, I swear it’s nothin’. You’re worryin’ too much.”

“I’ve seen you, both with me and a few of the others,” Husk continued. “It seems like you’re fine when you touch us. But the second any of us touch you, even slightly? You shut down. I can see the panic in your eyes every time.”

Angel swallowed, wrapping his two sets of arms around himself. “It’s really not a big deal.”

“It clearly is to you,” Husk said, stepping closer, while still maintaining comfortable space between the two of them (a sentiment that Angel’s heart warmed at). “I don’t know nearly anything about what that asshole moth does to you or makes you do, but I’m gonna take a bold guess and say this-” he gestured to Angel’s closed-off posture, “-is because of him. I want to know what you’re uncomfortable with because I never want to make you feel the way that motherfucker makes you feel or the way Alastor makes me feel. Do you understand what I’m saying?”

Going quiet for a long moment, Angel nodded. “Yeah, I hear you.” He glanced around the lobby, making sure no one was listening in on their conversation. “Look, I really enjoy being around you. You make me feel like I can be myself and not- whatever it is that Val wants me to be, y’know? I don’t want you to get the wrong idea and think I don’t trust you or shit. ‘Cause I do. It’s just… something about being touched without warnin’. I don’t know. It makes me feel like I wanna crawl out of my skin.”

Husk nodded. Thank Lucifer, his gaze didn’t seem like he was pitying Angel or seeing him as some fucked-up mess that needed to be coddled like a damn baby. He just seemed understanding. Empathetic. And fuck, if that didn’t make Angel’s guts do a flip.

“I’ll tell Nifty to keep her roach piles away from the bar,” Husk said, mercifully changing the subject as though sensing how uncomfortable it made Angel to bear his soul (that wasn’t even really his anymore) to him.

“Thank you,” Angel mumbled quietly, hoping Husk knew he wasn’t talking about the roaches.

vi.

They’d done it. They’d actually fucking done it. They’d fended off the Extermination.

The hotel was in shambles, to say the least. Hell, Angel didn’t know if it could be considered a building anymore at that point. Because of the extreme damage, only a few rooms had been left (somewhat) intact. Charlie had promised they’d finish renovations tomorrow with the help of her dad, but she insisted everyone rest after the whole-ass battle they’d had.

Given the very limited selection of rooms that weren’t extreme safety hazards to sleep in (four to be exact - Vaggie had counted), Charlie had everyone pair off. Angel had a feeling it was more to give everyone a sense of companionship given they all had a new sprinkle of PTSD added into their already shitty mental states. Charlie and Vaggie had obviously gotten one of the rooms to themselves. Rosie had insisted on keeping Alastor company. Why the hell someone would want to spend a second with that creep was beyond Angel’s understanding. Nifty and the remaining Egg Bois had grouped up in one of the smaller hotel rooms. And that left the remaining room for Angel and Husk.

“Seriously? The sharing one bed shtick?” Angel scoffed, plopping down on the mattress. “‘Sounds like something straight out of one of my porn movies.”

Husk raised an eyebrow. “I can sleep on the floor if the thought makes you uncomfortable. I know, uh, being reminded of your work isn’t exactly your idea of a good time.”

“No, no, it’s fine,” Angel insisted, clambering into bed, already in his pajamas and having cleaned most of the angel blood out of his hair. “It ain’t like I think you’re gonna pull shit or anything.”

With a shrug, Husk reluctantly got into bed beside him. The room was already near pitch dark thanks to the electrical system being blasted apart. The only light was from the crimson sky of Hell, serving as a forever reminder of their damnation.

Silence fell between the two of them for a long while, a comfortable few inches of space between them on the king-sized mattress. Angel was beginning to think Husk had already fallen asleep until he finally spoke.

“It’s hard to believe he’s gone, you know?” Husk said quietly and Angel immediately knew who he was referring to. An uncomfortable sensation of guilt panged in his stomach. Fuck, he hadn’t even been thinking about Sir Pentious. In all the chaos, he’d nearly forgotten about the insane, but admirable, shit he’d pulled.

“Yeah,” Angel breathed. “And just as I was beginnin’ to like him too.”

Husk exhaled out a long, tired sigh. “I wish he’d been the one to magically show up, not Alastor. Fuck, for a second there, I really thought I was free.”

“I’m sorry” was all Angel could muster. Hell, he was shit with words and even more shit at comforting people. He wished he knew all the right things to say to make Husk feel better, show him that Angel really did care about him. It was probably more than just care. Angel didn’t know what it was that he felt for Husk, but he knew damn well it was strong. Even stronger than his initial admiration and adoration for Valentino back when he’d first met him.

Without giving himself time to hesitate, he reached forward, enveloping Husk in a hug. At that point, he couldn’t give a rat’s ass about his fears. All he wanted was to comfort Husk. That was the only damn thing driving him.

“Whoa-” Husk mumbled under his breath, surprise evident in his tone. “Angel, I know you don’t like this sort of thing. You don’t have to-”

“I want to,” Angel interrupted.

Cautiously, Angel felt Husk relax and carefully wrap his arms around Angel, embracing him back. To Angel’s immediate surprise, he didn’t feel the all-too-familiar sensation of panic rising up in him. If anything, he felt the opposite. He felt safe. He felt accepted. Shit, he felt loved.

Husk was pressed right up against Angel’s whole body. His face was buried in Angel’s shoulder and Angel could feel Husk’s breath gently puffing against the top of his chest fluff. Under any other circumstances, Angel would be yanking away, shoving the person off of him. His heart was beating slower than usual, rather than faster. He didn’t know if it was some sort of freaky cat magic, but he genuinely felt calmer.

It dawned on him that it was the only time he’d felt someone pressed so completely against him and it didn’t feel sexual at all.

“I don’t think I can remember the last time I hugged someone,” Husk mumbled against his shoulder.

Angel huffed out a quiet laugh. “Shit, people wrap their arms around me all the damn time. But uh, yeah, this… feels different. ‘Feels better.”

He could’ve sworn he felt Husk smile a little and Hell, it made Angel’s stomach flutter like he was a goddamn teenager.

They laid there for a long time until Husk’s breath slowed, his weight leaning more into Angel as quiet snores escaped his parted lips. Someone falling asleep on him was definitely new to Angel. Even on set, Valentino didn’t give a shit about aftercare or, honestly, any care at all.

Despite telling himself over and over again that he’d never trust someone again after Val, Angel found himself drifting off next to Husk, feeling safe and secure in ways he’d been craving for decades.

#hazbin hotel #hazbin angel dust #angel dust #huskerdust #hazbin husk #angel dust x husk #oneshot #fanfiction

51 notes · View notes

randomshyperson · 2 years

Text

Summary: Returning to your hometown five years after leaving everything behind, including your best friend, is no easy feat. Getting involved in a secret club wasn't in the plans either. Or the one based on Life is Strange.

Warnings: (+18) high school au, best friends to lovers, mild/heavy angst mentions with happy happing, use of legal substances (alcohol, marijuana), violence, verbal aggression, explicit language, smut, triggers regarding sexual assault, mentions of death, grieving, hints of depression and anxiety, panic attacks, a lot of domesticity.

General Masterlist | AO3 | Wattpad || Series Masterlist

--//--

Chapter One - A New School in an Old Town

"Are you sure you have everything you need?"

With the phone pressed between your ear and shoulder, you let out a chuckle in reaction to your father's speech.

"Yes, Captain Rogers, I'm sure." You retort good-naturedly, adjusting the box in your hands and opening the bedroom door with your foot. "I already got the last box, and I have the tour with the monitor girl now, so I gotta go. I'll call you later, Dad."

Steve sighed. "Okay, kiddo, take care. I love you!"

You hummed back as you put the box down on the bed to turn off your cell phone and put it away in your pocket.

Your gaze circled the messy room for a moment. All the boxes filled with your belongings scattered around, and you wondered for a moment how they would look organized there, the posters, the decorations. Sighing softly, you made your way out behind the room of the monitor responsible for introducing the Xavier Institute to you.

Fortunately, you didn't have to look far. Natasha Romanoff was chatting with two other girls at the end of the female dormitory hallway and offered you a kind smile just before dismissing the girls when you reached them.

"Everything okay with your room, Rogers? "She asked, calling you by your last name, and you cleared your throat to say thank you.

"Yeah. And I actually prefer Stark." You blurted out, to which the girl raised an eyebrow. You didn't clarify why, and she didn't insist.

"All right, Stark. Let's begin with the dorm anyway, since most of us spend most of our time, especially the seniors, locked in here while we try to keep up with the classes the stricter professors give us." She leads off casually, walking further ahead. "Your room is 121, and mine is the last on the right. The blackboard on the side of each door is for identification and for cool messages, like Jean and her good morning messages. Or, Anna and her moody messages in response to that."

You chuckled short, looking back to see if you could identify the pictures of the said girls, and smiled when you saw Jean's one outlined 'Someday you'll go far" and the other door, who you assumed was Anna’s were written 'and I really hope you stay there’.

"They seem fun." You mutter to Nat who nods in agreement.

"You have no idea." She says mysteriously before gesturing to another wall. "Over there is our bulletin board. Everything relevant at the Institute gets notified here. Scheduling exams, club applications, official events, and so on. If you miss something and are selling something, you can put an ad here too. Oh, look at this, Peter is offering tutoring..."

"Can boys come in here?" You asked curiously, and Nat giggled.

"Officially, no." She retorted. "But no one's a snitch if you want to bring a boyfriend. The Parker boy sure didn't come in, he's not allowed anymore. He probably asked some girl to paste the poster here." Nat explained, pulling out one of the contact wires, and tucking it away in her pocket. "Come on, I'll take you to see the rest of the place."

The institute was huge as the application website said. Natasha took you to see everything from the main study building, labs and classrooms, to the gym and volleyball courts outside.

"We also have a hiking club, which does its trips through there all the way down to the bay." She informs you as you both reach the east side of the outside hall of the main building, pointing to the tall trees a short distance away. You see that there are markings at the entrance with symbols of that club. "They, like most clubs, are still open for applications if you have any interest."

You chuckle awkwardly. "Sounds fun, but I think I'll just focus on classes this year." You mutter and Nat shrugs her shoulders.

"it's up to you." She says. "If you change your mind, they'll reopen enrollment in the middle of the year, or of course, if you befriend the leader or offer to buy lunch for all the members. I've seen the last one happen firsthand." She comments with a wink.

Natasha introduces you lastly to the pools and then leads you to the entrance of the Institute.

"Do you have your schedule yet?" She asks, and you nod. "Well, it's the only fixed time besides curfew at 10 p.m. Don't let the Drax Guard catch you walking around outside of curfew, okay? He's not very sympathetic, and he always seems to be invisible, so it's impossible to tell where he's hiding waiting for us..." She counters, and you laugh softly at the indignant tone of voice. Nat looks around and nods to a few students who greet her before gesturing further ahead. "The bus stop is over there, those who decided not to stay in the dorm usually use the circular vans and show up here at class time. If you have the day off, you can take one of them to go into town, they are always around and a lot of people like to eat lunch outside of here. Are you 18 yet?"

"Yeah."

"Great, then you can sleep out without permission." She explains with a smile. "The underage students do it on the sly, and usually have to come back before their first class so they don't get spotted by Drax. Anyway, I think that's about it, do you have any questions?"

You lift your chin toward the corner. " The train station doesn't work anymore?"

Nat raises an eyebrow. " You know it there?"

You smile awkwardly, nodding. "Yeah, I used to live here when I was younger. I went to live in New York about five years ago when my dads got divorced."

Nat stares at you and then lets out a small exclamation. "Wait, you're part of the Stark family, from the south side? The former owners of the Power Plant?"

You shift the weight of your feet. "Yep, that' them." You agree clumsily. Nat chuckles.

"Wow, aren’t you guys like super rich?"

You laugh through your nose, scratching the back of your head. "Not anymore..."

Nat slaps her hand on her forehead softly. "Oh, shit, sorry. Of course! All that commotion after all. Your whole family left Westview for that, huh? Why did you come back?"

You clear your throat, looking away. "Look, maybe I should finish organizing my room, I still have to visit the counselor. But the tour was lovely, Natasha, thank you very much for that."

Nat hesitates, but seeing that you were uncomfortable with the questioning, she quickly nods and lets you go.

On the way to the dorms, you try not to think about your old life in Westview, but it is impossible not to.

–//–

Natasha didn't lie about the difficulty of the lessons at the Institute.

You would have thought it was because you were in your last year, but you saw younger students locked in the library with piles of books and articles on their desks when you went to get some, so you knew it must be standard teaching. It made sense, the Institute was a renowned institution throughout the United States.

Your curriculum, fortunately, was not so busy. Apart from the compulsory subjects of regular school and the chosen course, you had a lot of free time, especially in the afternoons. Too bad you spent most of this time studying and doing homework.

It had been almost a month since you had started your classes, and all you had done so far was stay in your room studying, not even visiting the old train station - which by now you knew had been decommissioned shortly after the power plant - or the rest of the city.

At least you were making friends. Peter Parker, Kate Bishop and Yelena Belova were your closest colleagues. Yelena was your next-door neighbor, and on your first day she helped you with the locker room shower trick.

It was a funny situation actually. She was quite inquisitive, and definitely very comfortable with her own body. You left the shower stall in a towel and almost stumbled away when you found the girl leaning on the sink - completely naked - brushing her teeth.

And she stood there, saying nothing, watching you change.

"I like your tattoo." She declared suddenly, and it took you a few seconds to understand that it was with you.

"O-oh, thanks." You say clumsily, sticking your head through the hole in your shirt. "My dad would kill me if he found out though."

She laughs, spitting toothpaste into the sink and washing her mouth out before turning to you again. "You sneaked it out to make it?"

You hesitate, but then clear your throat, denying it. "Actually, no." You mutter. "My other dad took me to make it, for my sixteenth birthday. He wanted... something for me to remember him."

Yelena blinked in surprise, absorbing your confession. And then she grabbed the towel and covered her body. "It's a nice tattoo, he had good taste." She said gently before leaving the garment.

The next day, she sat at your table during breakfast. And during lunch. And the next day too, and the others as well.

You found out that Yelena was Natasha's adopted sister - and she was pleased to hear that you were adopted too - and despite her being a few months younger than Nat, they were both in their last year like you.

In the second week, Yelena was mumbling her way through her calculus homework and was approached by a boy from the next table over.

"I can help if you want." He offered gently, but her grimace widened.

"I don't need your help, Parker." She retorted annoyed, but he sighed.

"Come on Yelena, there's nothing wrong with needing help..."

But Yelena collected her things and left the table, and you were completely confused by the whole thing. The boy sighed again before leaning a little toward you.

"Sorry about that. I'm trying to convince her that there's no shame in needing tutoring." Informed the boy. With that, you exclaim softly.

"Oh, you must be Peter Parker! I saw no ad on the bulletin board."

He smiles. "Yeah, that's me. And you are?"

"Y/N Stark." You say. "If you're good at calculus, do you think you could help me with some of Mrs. Van Dyne's questions? I'm kind of stuck on her paper. I can buy you a snack in repay."

He chuckles. "Don't worry about it."

Peter quickly gathered his belongings and moved to your table, sitting down next to you.

Parker was great company, and he was brilliant. It was up to you to convince Yelena that there was nothing wrong with asking for help though. And with a hamburger and a casual, understanding attitude on the subject, you succeeded.

After that comes the adorable and disastrous Kate Bishop and her latent crush on Yelena - who is probably the only person who hasn't noticed yet.

Kate was one of the richest girls in school - you heard that her family had a security company and several deals with the city council - and she was quite popular. She was in the journalism club with Peter, and practiced archery as a hobby. She had a talent for getting into trouble but never faced any real consequences because her mother, the elegant Eleanor Bishop, was on the parents' council and made generous donations to the institute's funds.

You didn't have an opinion about Kate and didn't want to be swayed by school gossip, so when the girl - who occupied the locker next to yours - came over to greet you as you put your books away, you were nice.

"You're friends with Yelena Belova, right?" Kate tried to sound casual, but you could see the blatant curiosity in her eyes, which made you let out a short laugh.

"Yeah, kind of." You mumbled. Your vague answer made Kate hesitate.

"You're not dating her, are you?" she inquired and to that you chuckled, returning a physics book to your locker before turning your body to Kate.

"No?"

"Oh, great. Cool." She retorted relieved. "Do you know if she's seeing anyone?"

You crossed your arms. "No, but I can tell her that you asked..."

"No!" Kate exclaims quickly, and you have trouble hiding your smile. She takes a deep breath, trying to disguise it. "It was just silly curiosity. I'm Kate Bishop, by the way. Yelena was my colleague in the archer club before she quit it and I'm just wondering why and.... damn it! I'm babbling again. You don't want to know this-"

You cut her off with a small laugh, "Don't worry, Kate. I'm Y/N, it's a pleasure." You said with a nod. "I can find out if Yelena is single, without mentioning any names."

Kate's eyes light up. "Really, you would do that?" She asks hopefully, and you smile gently.

"Sure, I'll catch up with you later." You inform her, closing your locker before leaving her.

You found out that Yelena didn't have a partner in a rather abrupt way. You looked for her around the school for a while after the last period and found her going over some exercises with Peter in the biology lab.

Professor Banner gave you a nod of greeting, turning his attention back to the papers he was reviewing, and you walked over to the workbench where your friends were.

"Hey, Belova!" You called out, taking the free stool on the other side of the table. The two of them looked at you. "Can I ask you something?"

"Sure, Y/N."

"Are you single?"

She raised an eyebrow, and Peter couldn't hold back his laughter - getting elbowed for it. You looked at her curiously.

"Are you interested by any chance? I should warn you that I see you only as a friend..."

You laugh, shaking your head. "No, not me."

She narrows her eyes at you, resting her arms on the countertop. "Then who?"

You shrug. "It was just a curiosity."

Yelena doesn't seem to believe much, looking at you suspiciously. Peter laughs at her reaction.

"She's single, Y/N, partly because everyone in this school is only looking for sex-OUCH!" Peter's speech is interrupted by another hard elbow from the blonde. You stare at them in confusion, and Yelena huffs in irritation.

"You're a big mouth, aren't you, Parker?" She complains as the boy massages his rib.

"Sorry, I'm a little confused..." You mumble, and the two of them exchange glances. Yelena sighs loudly.

"Great, here goes." The blonde says, staring at you. "I haven't told this to anyone apart from my sister and this gossip monger here, and if you have a problem with this and say something stupid I will break your arm." She comments and you raise your eyebrows in shock. But Yelena softens her gaze, looking almost unsure. "It's been a few months since I found out I'm asexual."

You stare at her without knowing what to say, surprised by the sudden confession more than anything else. Yelena grimaces.

"Do you have a problem with that, Stark?" She questions determinedly, clenching one of her fists, and you laugh sheepishly.

"N-no, Yelena, of course not." You mutter quickly. "You know I'm queer too, right?"

"And that doesn't prevent anything." Yelena retorts. "A lot of people in the community discriminate against others."

You swallow dryly, sighing. "Yeah, I know. I'm sorry if you've been through something like that." You say sincerely. "But know that I have no problem with your sexuality. And I'm honored that you trusted me to tell me."

Yelena smiles in appreciation, extending her closed fist for you to hit.

"I told you she was cool." Peter muttered but Yelena didn't seem too happy with him for sharing her secret. When they seemed about to get into a fight, you intervened.

"Anyway, are you aromantic too? Or are you up to date someone..."

Yelena laughed suspiciously. "I'm beginning to think you're hitting on me, Stark."

You rolled your eyes humorously. "I'm not going to say who asked, Yelena, there's no point. But just for the record, I'm sure a lot of people would be interested, besides being super pretty you're really cool."

Yelena rolls her eyes in embarrassment, and Peter makes a provocative mouth sound that almost gets him punched again. You chuckle.

"If the person doesn't care about sex, I'm in. If it's a girl of course." Yelena finally clarifies, and you hum in understanding.

"Fine, I'll let her know." You murmur mysteriously, and Yelena huffs impatiently wanting to know who it is, but you pull away from her hands with a laugh. "I'm going back to the dorm, want to watch a movie with me later?"

"Only if I get to choose." Yelena retorts and you shrug, but Peter complains.

"I don't want to watch anything scary!" He defends himself, but Yelena laughs, pushing her shoulders against him.

"And who says you're invited? It's the girls' dorm, big boy." Yelena reminded with a friendly teasing tone that you don't understand. Peter, surprisingly not bothering to miss the invitation, smiled almost proudly as he rolled his eyes, before turning his attention back to the question book. You put your hands in your pockets.

"All right, it'll just be the two of us then, Belova. See you later?" With Yelena's nod, you wave goodbye to them.

Your friends go back to studying, but before you leave the classroom, Professor Banner calls you over to her desk.

"I couldn't help overhearing the conversation, I do apologize..." He began by leaning over to get something from his drawer. You cleared your throat.

"That's not very polite, sir." You reminded, half worried about Yelena's exposure. But the man offered you a gentle smile, and from the drawer, he pulled out a flyer.

"Don't worry, Mrs.Stark, I haven't heard anything I didn't already imagine. After all, who would Yelena Belova have taken her doubts with if not an adult?"

You almost said 'google' but Bruce was looking at you so kindly that you didn't have the heart to do so. You smiled in return, accepting the paper he held out.

'Queer Alliance Group' was written in bright, colorful letters, with meeting times and the information that the club always had open membership. You chuckled half-heartedly.

"Wow, that's... wow." You didn't quite know how to define it. It sounds cool, but you still had a vision of the old, traditional Westview, and imagining an LGBT youth club in a small town like that was a bit difficult.

"We are no sports group, but we do some recreational activities. We mainly offer therapeutic support, in case you need someone to talk to. You and your friends would be welcome."

You tuck the folded paper away in your jacket pocket. " Thanks, Professor Banner. I'll think about it."

He smiled contentedly and nodded. Before you left, Bruce adjusted his jacket, and you could see the asexual flag brooch on his sweater. He gave you a wink when he noticed you looking, and you smiled before leaving the room.

–//–

You told Kate Bishop that Yelena was single on Thursday after PE. You had just finished using the showers, and Kate, who had the next period - arrived early in the locker room.

You were drying your hair with a towel and almost screamed in fright when the girl appeared in front of you without a blouse.

"Hey!" She greeted you excitedly. "Did you find out that information for me?" She asked like a secret agent, and you laughed nervously because you could see her breasts.

"I'd like to have that conversation with clothes on, please" You try but she grimaces.

"I just got out of archery practice, I need a shower..."

"God, I don't deserve this." You complain, sitting down on the stool to put on your shoes. Kate huffs anxiously, bypassing the row of lockers to approach you.

"Come on, Stark, just tell me. I've been waiting all week for this answer." She dramatizes making you laugh.

"She's single, but if you want something, you'll need to have a heart-to-heart with her." That's what you say to Kate, who stands thoughtfully for a few seconds.

"Okay, I didn't expect that step." She says in a panic and you laugh, shaking your head in disbelief.

"You thought she'd be single and what, magically become your girlfriend?" You tease gently, and Kate blushes, crossing her arms.

"Maybe..." She mutters, getting another laugh out of you.

"Come on, Kate Bishop, I'm sure you've asked someone out before."

She grunts embarrassed. "Okay, first of all, guys do that. And I don't date them, so I have absolutely no idea how to ask anyone out. And girls? They are frightening. Too pretty or too sarky. And Yelena? God, she's both. She'll eat me alive if I even think of going near her..."

"I bet you'd like it if she ate you..." You joke but Kate lets out an indignant exclamation, slapping you on the shoulder that makes you laugh.

"You have to help me!"

"Put on a blouse first." You retort and despite rolling her eyes, she covers her breasts with one of her arms. You laugh. "Thanks, that's better."

Ignoring you, Kate asks, "Will you help me?"

To torment her, you make a thoughtful face the entire time you finish putting on your sneakers. "What's in it for me?"

"My eternal gratitude." She retorts.

You laugh. "Aren't you the sweetest, Miss Bishop?" You retort good-naturedly, getting up now that you were dressed. "I can't sell your eternal gratitude on eBay though."

She rolls her eyes. "I have money if you need it-"

"Jesus, what an idea Kate! Imagine how it would sound if you paid me to date, my friend!"

She shrugs her shoulders. "I would totally pay for Yelena to give me a chance-"

You laugh incredulously. "My god, you're a disaster. Tell you what, I'll think of a favor, and in the meantime, you sit down with me at breakfast and I'll officially introduce you to Yelena, what do you think?"

Kate hesitates, and you know it's because she sits at a table of nearly twenty people - the entire popular gang of this place - who would surely miss her. But her crush on Yelena speaks louder. She agrees almost immediately, and you wrinkle your nose at her expression.

"You're a cutie, Kate Bishop. I'm sure Yelena already noticed you." You say to her, pinching her nose in playfulness, and causing her to blush at the phrase. "See you around."

Easy as that, Kate has become your friend. The first day was a little strange because she didn't quite know how to act when sitting down, but once the social awkwardness was overcome, the three of you got into a very comfortable rhythm.

Yelena however seemed completely clueless that Kate wanted to date her, even though it was obvious to anyone.

On Friday of the last of August, you were putting your books away and Kate practically teleported into the locker next to yours.

"Tell me what I'm doing wrong!" She declared dramatically, and you chuckled without taking your eyes from checking your books.

"I'm going to need more context to answer this, sweetie."

She sighs loudly, her back pressed to the locker. "It's about Yelena, of course! I've done everything, she just doesn't notice me!"

"Everything? You told her you're interested and asked if she felt the same way?"

Kate crosses her arms. "Don't be ridiculous."

You laugh, shaking your head in disbelief. "Seriously, Bishop, you amuse me. Keep thinking Yelena will read your mind, Peter and I have a great time watching you and your puppy dog eyes."

Kate grunted in embarrassment, moving away from the locker only to open the door with the intention of putting away her books.

But a flyer falls at her feet, and she bends down to pick it up.

With a dry laugh, she comments, "Great, my life is already a mess and they want to play tricks on me..."

You put your history book away, turning your face to your friend with curiosity at the complaint. "What's this?" You ask about the pamphlet.

She turns the paper over to you. "It's a silly first-year club, I didn't even know it still existed. I'm sure it's a prank. What a jerk thing to do..." Kate grumbled annoyed, crumpling the paper and storing it in the pocket of the flimsy jacket on her arms before starting to put the books away in her own closet. She went back to talking about Yelena, but you weren't paying attention.

You looked around and noticed two clearly first-year girls standing at the corner of the hallway looking at you. As soon as Kate crumpled the paper, they made faces of disappointment, and once they noticed you were looking, they widened their eyes and tried to cover it up, before practically running out of the hallway.

"Hey, Kate, let me take a look at that flyer again?" You interrupt her - she doesn't mind.

Once you have the crumpled poster back in hand, she comments:

"I think it used to be a mix of science group and biker gang, but nobody ever really talked about it."

You force a smile, looking away from your friend. "And what else do you know about them?"

She shrugs. "Not much, as I said, I didn't even think it existed anymore. It was one of the banned clubs when that accident at the dam happened."

You gasp slightly. "What accident at the dam?"

Kate smiles sadly. "I don't know much about it, it was my freshman year so I didn't know the kid. But he was pretty popular here, he was on the running team. You've never seen the memorial?"

You deny it with your head. Kate sighs, putting away the last book before beckoning you to follow her.

She leads you outside through the emergency exit, into the outer gardens. And stops in front of a small sign at the entrance to the gym. It was completely vandalized, so you never noticed what was written beyond the graffiti before.

"Here, it was a very sad thing when it happened. The dean even made a speech because the kid was his stepson." Narrated Kate, pointing to the stone. "He was one of the founders of that club, I guess, so I didn't imagine they would go on without him."

You clear your throat so as not to show any kind of emotion in your voice. "Yeah, that's not very common."

Kate doesn't notice, putting her hand in her pockets. "Anyway, I'm sure it was just some prank. I never signed up for the Mystery Club, and honestly, I have enough trouble already."

You force a smile at her, and Kate exclaims when your cell phone alarm rings.

"Shit! I totally forgot I have a dinner date with my mom and my new idiot stepdad. Wish me luck!" She quickly says goodbye, kissing your cheek before running towards the dorms.

You bend down, to get some of the dust collecting on the iron plate stuck in the grass. Your fingers trace the graffiti on the small photo next to the tribute message.

"Mustache would have suited you, Pietro." You whisper sadly before standing up.

–//–

Your determination to find out more about the mystery club dragged on for the rest of the week.

Since you didn't know many people at school, you couldn't just ask anyone about it. Imagining the approach made you laugh.

Hey, do you know anything about the secret club founded by the boy who died in the dam about three years ago?

Scary, honestly.

Peter and Kate, having been first-years at the time the club closed, knew no more than what you could find out on the Internet about the tragic accident in Westview. ‘A 15-year-old boy drowns in a local dam during a school outing. Grieving neighborhood, all feelings with Dean Charles Xavier over the loss of his stepson.’

Flipping through the news made your stomach turn, so you risked asking Yelena, who didn't want to talk about it.

In fact, she was angry with you. "Why are you asking about this?"

You swallowed dryly, clumsily. "I just wanted to know a little more about how it was..."

"It was fucking horrible, Y/N, that's how it was!" She retorted angrily, closing the locker tightly.

She came to apologize the next day, regretting that she had yelled. She sat down next to you and pulled out of her pocket an old, crumpled photo.

"I found this in some locked boxes yesterday after I lost my temper with you. Sorry again." She mutters, pointing to the photo. "His name was Pietro Maximoff, he joined on a running scholarship here, and he was my best friend."

You swallowed dryly, picking up the photograph. Yelena looked away, at the green field in front of her where besides the team's people training, some people were practicing running.

The photo is full of people you know and doesn't know - some colleagues you've seen in the hall, Natasha with a longer hairstyle, and Pietro with his arms around Yelena as if he were climbing on top of her. Everyone looks so happy.

"The Dean told everyone we were on an official science club activity, an exploration tour. But that's bullshit." Yelena counters with a sad laugh, "It was a stupid party, with stupid people, and everything was so stupidly fun that nobody cared how much alcohol was hidden in the drinks."

You swallowed dryly, staring at Yelena. "Weren't you all 15 years old?"

She gave another wry laugh, spreading her own legs wide. "As if that ever stops anyone." She retorted upset. " Either way, there were older people, from the later years. That's why Pietro wanted to go so badly. He wanted to get in with the seniors, to make the captain of the team. I just wanted Natasha not to think I was a loser."

"Nat doesn't think that." You assure her, and Yelena smiles sadly, nodding in appreciation.

She sighs lightly. "One minute, we're all dancing and laughing. And Pietro is gone for two seconds, and the next thing I know, the police are on the spot, organizing a search inside the dam for my friend's body." Yelena fell silent, sobbing, and you put an arm around her.

"I'm really sorry, Yelena." You say to her, hiding your own tears. "I'm so sorry for asking."

She gives a tearful laugh, shaking her head. "Don't worry, I know you didn't mean any harm."

Once she has calmed down, you pull your arm away to return the photo, but she refuses.

"You can keep it."

You frown. "But he was important to you."

She smiles, looking away. "Pietro used to tell me about a friend who left Westview before he joined the Institute. Someone he loved, and missed dearly, and who was smart enough to have joined that school along with him. Someone who started the Mystery club at Westview elementary school."

You swallowed dryly, looking away from the photo, Pietro Maximoff's smiling face stared back at you.

"What else did he say?" You asked with emotion. Yelena sighed.

"That he was very sad to lose you and his mother in the same period." At Yelena's speech, you sniffled, nodding in agreement. "But he also said he never blamed you for leaving, you know?"

You laugh in disbelief, wiping your face on the sleeve of your blouse. "Hard to believe that one, Lena. And honestly, I would have understood if he hated me. My parents dragged me out of this town in a hurry, and I couldn't even stay for the memorial."

Yelena shakes her head. "Y/N, you were a child. You couldn't stay if your parents decided you wouldn't." She reasons, and you smile sadly.

"It doesn't matter, Yelena." You retort. "He needed me here. They both did."

Yelena swallows dryly but sighs in defeat afterward. She waits a moment to speak again.

"I know you probably think he hated you for leaving, but Pietro told me he understood." She continues. "He really understood, Y/N. He said that if there was a chance to heal your father, and if the chance was outside the pollution of the power plant, that he understood the rush. He would have chosen to do the same for his mom if there was time."

You sigh in emotion, trying to control your tears.

"Thank you Yelena." You say sincerely, being able to feel at least some of the guilt you have carried for so long leave your back. Pietro had no way to say he forgave you for leaving, so Yelena's words would have to serve as some consolation.

"Don't mention it." Yelena retorts with a smile.

You watch the sunset begin to happen, and it is beautiful from the bleachers. The runners are wrapping up their training, and Yelena takes her gaze from the scenery to you.

"After Pietro left, the club was banned, and the gang drifted apart." She recounts. "If someone reactivated it, none of the old members are part of it."

You blink at the information and nod in appreciation afterward. You put the photograph away in your pocket, and stand up.

"You should talk to her, Y/N." Yelena says before you leave, and you swallow dryly because you know exactly who she is talking about just by her expression.

You put your hands in your pockets and give an awkward laugh.

"I was kind of hoping to find her here." You say, and Yelena smiles sadly.

"Sorry, you were late." Yelena retorts. "Wanda was expelled last year."

You widen your eyes slightly, more impressed than anything. "Shit, what did she do?"

Yelena shrugs her shoulders getting up. "The question is what she didn't do..."

You chuckle. "My god?"

Yelena grins as she shakes the dust off her pants and approaches you, patting you on the shoulder to get you to follow her.

"Where do I start? Property damage, or maybe that time she told counselor Harkness to stop being a two-faced bitch in the middle of the hallway..."

–//–

So far, you had little information about the Mystery Club.

It was reactivated in secret by someone - Yelena didn't think it was any of its former veteran members, but that didn't make much sense to you. Why would someone who had no contact at all - like this year's first-years - be interested in a club banned from the school after a horrible accident?

But when you looked for Yelena's old friends - the original gang as she wrote behind the photograph - none of them seemed to have the profile to establish a secret club.

Pietro, obviously, wasn't. Yelena was beyond the options as well, the whole thing was too sad for her. Natasha had too many activities occupying her schedule. Carol Danvers had the necessary popularity, but she had just been promoted to team captain, so she wouldn't have time, and it wouldn't make sense to risk her position for a banned club. Her girlfriend Maria Rambeau was known for following the moral code of ethics of the school to the letter, as well as being class president and having the perfect resume. She would not risk tarnishing her record for this. Clint Barton and Maria Hill had the profile of troublemakers, but they were too antisocial to start something like this.

Wanda was no longer part of the school. Still, part of you knows that only she would have the audacity.

It had been exactly one month since you had been at the institute, and your search had come to a dead end. You needed more information to continue, and your remaining option was to approach the girls you believed had left the flyer in Kate Bishop's locker.

They were definitely avoiding you because, for days, you didn't see them around. But finally, after sneaking into the theater during rehearsal, you found them.

"Don't say anything and she'll go away."

You laughed at the smaller girl's whisper. "I can hear you, you know." You told them.

"Pretend you are not seeing her." The other whispered back, but you grimaced, putting your hands in your pockets as you approached them.

"Well, Romeo and Juliet, I wonder if we could have a chat?" You asked, teasing about the rehearsal robes and both of them sighed before the smaller one retorted you:

"I don't know what you think you saw, but it's not what you think!" She declares. You raise an eyebrow.

"I saw two brats trying to play a trick on my friend."

The taller one lets out an exclamation. "It wasn't a prank! Shit, Kamala, she thought it was a prank! That's why she crumpled up the invitation and-"

"America, stop talking!" Kamala elbowed her friend, but you were smiling.

You looked around at the rest of the drama group that was leaving the place at the end of class and lowered your tone.

"If you don't want me to turn this flyer and your name into the principal, you will answer my questions, okay?" You say, and they sigh in defeat, nodding. You laugh lightly. "Don't look so sad, I promise I'm great at keeping secrets. Definitely better than you guys. Come on, let's go for a walk."

America and Kamala follow you to the parking area, the emptiest space in the Institute. They look equally dissatisfied.

"All right, I want to know who reactivated the club."

The girls widen their gazes in surprise at the straight question, and it is Kamala who babbles:

"W-we don't know that!" She says. "We don't know members of different levels. Everyone gets an invitation in the locker, and then the missions-"

"Missions?" You interrupt curiously, and America sighs.

"It's like a scouting club. We get missions and rewards."

You cross your arms. "Then why all the secrecy?"

Kamala and America laugh, shrugging. "Because it's fun." They answer together, you laugh impressed. They are children. Still, the story is weird.

America sighs. "Look, everything in this place is over-supervised. It's nice to have something that doesn't have to go through dozens of student council approvals or reviews."

"Yeah, the missions are fun." Kamala adds. "The Dean would never let us go camping to see a solstice or make records of the wild animals in the local Forest. He would keep everyone locked up in that building if he could."

"We just do cool stuff in nature and take pictures of the local town legends. It's harmless. Can you please not rat us out?" America asked making you smile.

"I still have another question." You retort, raising a finger. "There's nothing wrong with the activities you talked about, but I would be surprised if a 17-year-old had any interest in them. Why recruit Kate?"

They shrug. "We just follow our mission."

You huff softly. "You said they get a mission invitation, can I see it?"

Kamala and America exchange hesitant glances, but the taller one nods to the other. Soon, Kamala pulls her backpack forward and rummages through her materials for a moment. Then she takes out a folded card and hands it to you.

The typed handwriting makes you smile. "Lovely, really. Quite rustic." You scoff managing to get a roll of the eyes from both of them. On the paper, it reads simply recruitment: Katherine Bishop, Third Year.

"Can we go now?" Kamala asks, but you deny it with your head.

"What is the reward for recruitment?" You question. America bites the inside of her cheek thoughtfully.

"I think it's a rated paper of the chosen subject." She confesses and you let out a surprised exclamation.

"Harmless you said, huh?" you comment, ignoring Kamala elbowing America. You tuck the invitation away in your pocket. "I'll keep this, girls, thank you very much."

"But-"

"And it's a pleasure to officially meet you two. I am Y/N Stark, original founder of the Mystery Club." You declare, patting each shoulder of the girls in shock before walking past them.

You make your way over to the pair smoking in a secluded area of the parking lot. Colleagues you haven't had a chance to talk to yet.

"Are you lost, Stark? The library is the other way." The rude teasing almost intimidated you to turn on your heels and head back inside, but Clint Barton might be tall but he wasn't two. Although, Maria Hill giggled and had muscles exposed by her tank top that made you swallow dryly.

"I was just chatting with those first years." You start clumsily, shifting the weight of your feet. "Funny story actually, they put up a flyer-"

"Touching, really." Clint cuts in impatiently, wafting a little smoke forward. "Why don't you share that with someone who actually wants to hear you? Like your angry friend or that tranny?" He mocks with a chuckle, but you frown in confusion and Maria clears her throat.

"Come on Clint, no need to get personal." Murmurs the girl, but the boy just rolls his eyes, taking a long drag.

You step forward. "What are you talking about?"

Your question makes Clint laugh, tilting his head as he tosses the smoke upward. Away from Maria, not you.

"Shit, I forgot you're new. She didn't even watch last year's nonsense, Hill." Commented the boy. Maria was no longer smiling, clearly uncomfortable with her friend's posture. Clint puffed again. "I'm talking about that little faggot Parker, of course. Although he can't be gay, right? He's a girl. I don't know how that shit works."

You were in shock at the complete offensiveness. You didn't know about Peter's transition of course, he had known you for less than a month and probably had no reason to tell you.

Clint laughed, shrugging at Mary's grumpy expression and you swallowed dryly.

"Don't make fun of my friend, Barton." You warned, he laughed, putting out his cigarette on the wall.

"Sure, I won't bother that She-male if she stays away from me!"

If there's one thing Steve Rogers has taught you, it's that violence is never the way. He also taught you how to throw a good right jab.

And you only stopped when your hand was bleeding, and someone pulled you around the waist.

Maria was dragging Clint away from you, so who was-

"What a way to see you again, kotenok." Wanda panted softly in your ear.

You shuddered, the anger completely dissipating. She helped you stand up straight, and she was standing right there in front of you. You almost couldn't believe it.

"Wanda, what are you...?"

But she was looking behind you, and she grimaces at Barton's bloodied face. And then she looks back to where the Drax security guard and some students who saw the fight from the race track start pointing.

"Come on Wanda, she'll be expelled if they catch her here." Maria warns and the brunette in front of you doesn't wait, grabbing your uninjured hand and pulling you away.

Ignoring your shock or the adrenaline coursing through your veins, Wanda opens the door of a pickup truck and pushes you inside. She climbs into the driver's seat, wasting no time in starting up.

You see in the rearview mirror the pool of blood on the ground where Clint's head was and gasp slightly, trying to stop shaking and keep the tears of anger and confusion in your eyes.

Wanda starts the car, and the parking lot and the Institute are left behind.

#wanda maximoff x reader #wanda x reader #elizabeth olsen x reader #Mystery Club

459 notes · View notes