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sobsicles · 3 years

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claire's not expecting them to be at the door. she blinks at the sight of four men all huddled on the stoop with flowers and what appears to be bags of food flowing from their arms. jack is peeking above a bouquet, beaming at her.

"who's at the door?!" jody calls from the kitchen, her voice muffled by the sound of grease popping and the clanking of pans and spatulas meeting over and over.

"god," claire calls back, because she likes to think she's funny.

there's a beat of silence, and then jody's sticking her head out the kitchen. the moment she sees them, she breaks out into a grin and saunters over, shoving the spatula in claire's hand as she chatters away.

"what's going on out there?" donna asks as claire escapes back to the kitchen to poke at food jody is apparently willing to burn just because the winchesters decided to show their faces today of all days.

"judgement day," claire says dryly.

donna shares a look with patience. "haven't we dealt with that already a few times?"

"only by association," claire admits, "but i wouldn't put it past them to bring it along with 'em now. the boys are here."

"oh, isn't that nice?" donna chirps, already popping up from her chair. "i didn't know they were stopping by today."

"wonder how sam's doing," patience agrees, wandering out the kitchen right along with donna. claire can hear everyone cracking up and talking in the living room.

trust the winchesters to shake things up just by showing up. can't have one goddamn day, can they? well, that's not true. in their case, as far as claire is concerned, they're shitty for showing up and shitty for not. someone has to knock 'em all down a peg or two, so she might as well be the one.

"what did that chicken ever do to you?" kaia asks teasingly as she sidles into the kitchen and stops by the stove, hip-checking claire out of the way to take over.

"the boys are here," claire informs her.

kaia raises her eyebrows. "like, the boys as in the winchesters, or is this a milkshake pun?"

"i can only be so gay, sweetheart," claire says, shooting her a flat look.

"raise the bar a little. could be gayer. you can always be gayer," kaia teases, reaching out to sneak her hand around claire's hip, her eyes bright with amusement.

"you know what? you're right," claire agrees and immediately tries to cop a feel while kaia laughs and dances out of range.

jack appears in the doorway. "hello," he says, whispering for some reason. "claire, i need your help."

"no," claire says, not even glancing at him. she continues to try and put her hand up kaia's shirt, just to see her laugh.

"can i borrow twenty dollars?" jack asks.

"no. aren't you god?"

"yes, but i don't get paid to be."

"well, sucks for you. borrow money from cas," claire mutters, settling in behind kaia as she focuses on the food on the stove, swatting lazily at claire's roaming hands.

"he'll just borrow money from dean."

"borrow from sam."

"he'll just borrow money from dean."

"borrow from—wait, why does it matter if it's from dean? just borrow from him."

jack huffs. "i can't. i need the money for dean. i have a card, and i read online it's customary to give money with a card. also, will you sign it?"

"you got dean a card?" claire asks, craning her head around to stare at jack skeptically.

"yes."

"don't tell me it's for what i think it is."

"mother's day," jack confirms unironically.

claire wheezes out a laugh. "oh my god."

"there's a pen in the catty on the fridge," kaia says, clearly amused.

"yeah. yeah, this is—yeah." claire chokes on more laughter and stumbles towards the group of pens in the magnet container on the fridge. she waggles her fingers at jack, clearing her throat, lips twitching. "hand it over, beanstalk. you're a fucking genius."

"oh! thank you," jack declares cheerfully, passing over the card. "so, can i borrow twenty dollars?"

"hell no," claire says. she braces the card against the fridge and swallows down a laugh. sam has already signed it. this just gets better and better. happy mother's day, old man, aka the secondary source of my mommy and daddy issues. you're going for gold with this double-whammy, she writes.

"but i need it," jack insists, staring at her with wide eyes.

claire shrugs. "tough break, kid. what, cas doesn't give you an allowance? is it just me, or are dads getting stricter these days?"

"i didn't think about it in advance," jack admits sadly. "i want to do it right for the holiday. it's mother's day, claire."

"i'm well aware. sorry to break it to you, kid, but last I checked, your mom's as dead as mine," claire tells him, her voice flat. he frowns and she forces herself not to feel bad. everything that sucks for him sucked for her first, so her sympathy levels are a little drained. "father's day will roll around eventually, and you've got a long line of those, so wait your turn."

"i've already done something for my mother today," jack says slowly, his eyebrows furrowed. "i visited her in heaven."

claire snorts derisively and passes the card back over. "must be nice."

"it was," jack agrees, completely missing the point. "i really can't borrow twenty dollars? i'll pay you back."

"nah," claire says. "who cares anyway? wait, why is dean the mom?"

"well, castiel is my father."

"ah, so it's about them having the hots for each other, then? really, kid, you coulda just made dean your step-dad."

jack blinks. "they have the...hots for each other? you mean sex. they have sex?"

"you know what?" claire points at him with her free hand. "i'm not gonna burst your bubble on that one. you've got enough issues on your own without wondering if mommy and daddy still have a spark, so I'm gonna leave that alone. i've got five dollars. take it or leave it."

"deal," jack says immediately.

money is exchanged, and jack looks like he's on cloud nine. claire's just stoked to see the expression on dean's face when he gets the card. it's a homemade card and everything, nothing like the two claire, kaia, patience, and alex got for jody and donna.

claire helps kaia finish up the chicken, which promptly gets set aside to wait on the rest of the food in the oven. sam wanders in at some point to drop off the food they brought. dessert, by the looks of it. pies and cakes that go in the fridge. it's kind of them, but claire would shoot herself in the foot before she ever admits it.

she lets kaia tug her into the living room where everyone is already at, rolling her eyes at how cheered everyone seems just because the winchesters happened to grace their doorstep. really, they all suck.

but also—and claire will never admit this, not even to save her own life—it's nice to see 'em again. it's nice that they've come to celebrate the day in jody and donna's name, giving them flowers and such. it's nice that they hang around for a bit and don't bring the world crashing down on everyone for the duration of their stay.

and, well, it's nice to see cas, too.

he perches up next to the couch that claire is squeezed on with alex, donna, kaia, and jack. kaia is practically in her lap, but claire is secretly glad for the excuse. while everyone talks and has conversations across one another, cas focuses entirely on her.

another thing claire will never admit is how reluctantly pleased by that she is. it warms her. stupidly, it turns soft and gooey in her chest that he automatically gives her his undivided attention over everyone else, even jack. but, then again, it's not cas' day, so she doesn't have to look too close to that feeling. it's mother's day, so it's not about him.

when the food is ready, they reconvene in the kitchen, and that's when they crack out the cards and gifts. claire is practically vibrating with laughter before jack has even brought his card out. before that, though, she smiles softly and strokes kaia's thigh under the table as jody and donna read their cards and chuckle at the messages, their gazes warm and their smiles sweet. they look happy. they deserve to be.

"okay, last one," claire announces, grinning at jack. she's starting to think she likes this kid if he's an agent of chaos like this.

and okay, maybe she hates him a little in abstract, but in detail, she finds that she does actually like him. you kinda just wanna put him in your pocket without meaning to, she's learned. there's too much to explore with the whole psuedo sibling thing and parents that aren't parents, as well as parents that are but didn't choose to be, only he did choose one of them, and it wasn't her. it's complicated, but underneath it all, there's a vibrant love there that she can't look directly at. sometimes, she despises that she's included in it; yet, just the same, she's thankful that she is.

"oh hell," dean mutters, swinging his gaze between alex and patience. "one of you...ya know? did we miss something?"

claire snorts.

"what? no," alex replies, grimacing. "i have no idea what claire's talking about. claire, what the hell are you talking about?"

"jack?" claire prompts in a wheeze.

"here you go," jack chirps, holding out the card to dean, beaming. "happy mother's day."

the expression on dean's face is somehow even better than claire imagined. she howls with laughter while sam buries his face in his hands, his shoulders jerking. cas squints at jack, and jody's eyebrows fly up at the same exact time that donna grins.

"is this a joke?" dean sputters.

"no, no, nope," claire chokes out, nearly fucking crying with laughter. "happy mother's day, dean."

"you gotta take it, man," sam agrees, clearing his throat and biting back a smile as he bobs his head dutifully towards the card.

dean fixes sam with a flat look and snatches the card. "you're all so fucking—sam, you signed it?!"

"happy mother's day," sam says, his mouth pinched, visibly trying not to laugh.

"do you like it?" jack asks earnestly. "i made the card, sam signed it first, and claire provided the money."

"i—" dean stares down at the card, then heaves a sigh and looks up at jack. it's clear to him that—out of everyone—jack is clearly taking this very seriously. he offers him a weak smile, then swallows. "yeah, s'great, kid. thank you. sam, you are dead to me. claire, i will be spending this on something you hate. cas, this is somehow your fault."

"yup, sounds like a mother to me," jody declares, holding up her beer with a smile.

"welcome to the club," donna agrees, holding hers up as well. "everyone else annoys the shit out of you, but you love 'em anyway."

dean sighs and clinks his beer to theirs.

#sobs adventures in writing #happy mother's day to all the spn moms!!!#dreamhunter #destiel adjacent #sort of?#look i just wanted to write something cute okay let me have this lmao #sobs says things #claire bear #jack jack #dean bean #cas bby #jody mills #donna hanscum #kaia nieves #spn ladies #sammeh

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yourmcu · 3 years

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Forgotten (CONTINUED VERSION)

Pairings: Tony Stark x daughter!reader, Peter Parker x Stark!reader (platonic)

Request:

Hello i love your story could you do angsty tony x daughter reader. Wherein the reader has a twin brother and Tony and the avengers prefer the twin brother and becaus of that, the reader became rebel and badass. She always getting trouble and almost drop out student. The avengers and her father were seem disappointed and dont know what to do. Not until the reader involve into car accident and she's critical injured. The reader also slipped to coma. Everyone is devastated about the reader conditione. And they realized that the reader only rebel because she wants to get attention from them. It depends to you what the end come, I just want a full angst this week and I hope you dont mind my English. Anyway I hope your alright.

A/n: y’all wanted it, I finished it :)

Word count: 3,984

(more notes at the end!)

Warnings: angst, hurt/comfort? bad writing of an anxiety attack, accident, knife, hospitals

read it on ao3!

gif not mine! credits to the owner^^

Being a genius/billionaire/superhero’s kid doesn’t always sound nice like it usually does.

You were one of the Stark twins, the other half being your brother, Ethan.

The both of you showed signs that you inherited the commonly known Stark trait (intelligence) at a young age. But Tony mostly focused on his son, showing him all his inventions and gadgets, teaching him everything he knew while you on the other hand, were being babysat by Happy or Pepper, sometimes Rhodey.

You tried so hard to get your father’s attention but he always had his excuses:

“I don’t have time for that.”

“I’m busy with Ethan right now.”

“Maybe later.”

At first you didn’t mind if your brother got all the praise and attention. It wasn’t until your mid-teens that you really started to feel left out and ignored.

You were left to frown when the other Avengers never found anything interesting about you, just like Tony did. They all liked Ethan better. The topic of him being the next Iron Man when Tony retires is getting exhausting.

There was this one time when Tony announced that they were all going out to dinner since Ethan got, yet again, a full set of A’s on his report card.

“Did you get my card?” You tapped on Tony’s shoulder lightly.

He gave you a side glance, “ah shoot, I forgot. I’ll go get it tomorrow.” Then returned his attention to your brother.

But he ended up forgetting again the next day and you had to convince your teacher to give it to you instead. Your marks had A’s, but littered with B’s as well, of course that was no match for your brother’s perfect marks.

And that sort of scenario wasn’t just a one time thing, Tony forgets to pick up your report card every. single. time. The messed up part was you and Ethan literally attended the same school, he was just in a more advanced class than you.

As time passed, Tony went from ignoring you to getting annoyed and pissed at you for everything you did. In his eyes, you were always in the wrong. And the reason? You didn’t know.

“Dad? Can I borrow Bruce for a minute?” You knocked on the glass door of his lab to get him to look up.

He didn’t, but responded, “kinda busy with him right now.”

You looked at your fractured arm, regretting your decisions. “W-well, Ethan was training with Nat, and... and he wanted to try the new moves he learned on me. He went a little hard and - I think my arm’s broken, I just wanted Bruce to check it out-”

“Goddammit!” He shouted after you heard a glass shatter. Bruce covered his face with palms, muttering an ‘oh no’.

Tony glared at you, striding to where you were standing. All that was left for you to do was to brace yourself for what was about to come. “See, this is why we never let you do anything with the team,” he spat. “That right there?”-he pointed to your arm-“that’s on you. Things go wrong because you’re in the way!”

“I’m... I’m sorry-”

“Just get out of here.”

Your arm remained untreated after that.

Then Peter Parker came into the picture. Friendly guy, he was actually nice to you. Him and Ethan got along right away when Tony first recruited him. The fact that he treated Peter better than you made you even more miserable. It made you think he never wanted a daughter in the first place.

You first met Peter when he accidentally entered your room without warning, thinking it was the bathroom. Cliche, but that’s what happened.

“It’s on the first door to your other left,” you stated.

“Yeah, yeah okay, thanks,” he turned around to leave but stopped to look at you again. “I’m Peter Parker, by the way.”

“Y/N Stark.”

Peter’s eyes lit up at your last name. “I... I didn’t know Mr. Stark had a daughter - no offense! It’s just-”

You sighed and waved him off. He didn’t even notice the similarities you had with your twin. “It’s fine. I get that a lot.”

After many events of being, to be blunt, treated like shit, you finally had enough. You neglected your studies, only went to school when you felt like it (which was rare). No one cared your grades anyway, so what’s the point? You became a whole new person, you surrounded yourself with the wrong sort of people, causing you to dabble into smoking and alcohol.

Since you were always in trouble, you could recite Cap’s detention speech at school by heart now.

The principal of your school wanted to see Tony to talk about your behavior. Normally he’d make an excuse not to go if it wasn’t that important but he got flooded with messages from the school, so he couldn’t say no.

You had your legs crossed, sitting across from Tony who had his eyebrows furrowed as he listened to the principal. For some reason you didn’t feel nervous. “Y/N barely attends her classes. I’ve seen every attendance. Are you aware of this, Mr. Stark?”

Tony only maintained his usual relaxed posture and avoided your gaze.

“Some students have also seen her smoke in school grounds. We gave her a few weeks suspension for it, but it doesn’t look like she’s learned her lesson.” They pulled out a couple boxes of cigarettes from the desk drawer. “We found these in her locker.”

“You went into my locker?” You shot up from your seat. “You can’t just do that!”

Tony cleared his throat and got up, gripping your wrist. “I’ll take it from here - will that be all?”

On the way out he doesn’t say a word to you, only that his grip on your wrist got tight as you near the car.

“So,” he started the car. His voice was calm, but it screamed that you were in deep trouble. “What do you have to say for yourself?”

You sighed and slouched in the passenger’s seat, crossing your arms. “I’m... sorry you had to know...?”

“Yeah, I’m just gonna be honest with you here,” Tony still doesn’t look at you. “When I found out I had two kids, I got worried about Ethan.”

You let out a snort. Of course he would.

“I didn’t want him ending up like me. But surprise surprise, my daughter did instead.”

“I’m not ‘ending up’ like you, Dad-”

“Then what do you call - this,” he referred to you. “What, you’re just gonna waste your life, drop out of school? You’re a fucking mess, Y/N, and here I thought I raised you right. Sometimes I think: why can’t you just be like your brother?” He had a hard grip on the steering wheel as he drove, the way he spoke affected the speed of the car greatly.

You opened your mouth to speak but you couldn’t fine the exact words you wanted to say. “I... well, I’m sorry I’m not a goody two shoes like him!”

“That’s not what I-”

“Please, that’s exactly what you meant.”

He scoffed, shaking his head. “Look, I’m grounding you until you pull yourself together, understand?” And he did. He gave new orders to Friday when the both of you got home. You weren’t allowed to leave the compound without Tony’s permission.

Were you giving up that easily? Of course not.

You were on your laptop for the rest of the day, hacking into Friday’s system, the security to the elevator and the entrance. That night, your executed your plan and everything went smoothly.

“This is why you never underestimate me,” you sighed, deactivating the hack once you were out of the building.

Your friend who was picking you up was already waiting a few blocks away from the compound. “I hope you’re cool with me staying over for a couple days.”

“If a bunch of Avengers come and destroy my place to look for you, I’m not going to be friends with you anymore.”

You laughed at out, “oh trust me, they don’t care.”

----

The next day no one noticed your absence, nobody did for another two days. Tony just assumed you were mad about your punishment, so he didn’t think of it much.

Not until Peter came to the compound on the third day, wanting to hang out with you.

“Whatcha got there, Pete?” Ethan asked.

“Star Wars movies. I wanna watch them with Y/N - she could use some company, don’t you think?”

The older Stark twin shrugged, “yeah, I guess she could.”

Peter then headed to the elevator and stopped at the floor where your room was. He knocked on your door and waited a bit, after a few minutes of silence he knocked again, still nothing.

“Y/N? Is it okay if I come in?” He called out. No response. He hesitated a bit, for all he knew you were probably changing or something, or you could be in danger. He went to open the door anyway. “I’m coming in, I’ll close my eyes just to be-”

To Peter’s surprise, your room was empty.

----

You were at a 711 parking lot, waiting for your friends who were buying supplies for a house party. You gave them your wallet, not really caring about anything anymore. Your phone was starting to pile up with messages and missed calls from Tony, Edward and Peter, occasionally from the others as you scrolled pass more.

Without thinking you threw your phone to the ground, cracking the screen, breaking it completely. They’d be able to track you through it now that they know you ran away. You really had no intention of coming back. You weren’t wanted, what’s the point of going back?It’s early but you’ve had a few drinks already. You weren’t sure if breaking your phone was a good idea but there’s one thing you’re sure: you didn’t care anymore.

You didn’t have to turn your head to see who just arrived and ambushed your friends inside the store. They ran out and left you behind. The sound of webs coming out of his shooters was enough for you to tell.

“You shouldn’t be here, Peter,” you sighed defeatedly.

Peter gently took a seat next to you, not removing his mask since you were in public and handed your wallet back. “I don’t understand why you left.”

He took in your awful state. His suit scanned how intoxicated you were, estimated how many cigarette packets you’ve had. His frown deepened at the information.

“I care about you. We all do. Mr. Stark’s not going to stop the search party until you come home.”

You rolled your eyes at the term. “Stupid search party – pathetic – I’m not coming home anymore, Pete-” you slurred and tried to get up but stumbled back, almost twisting your ankle but fell to Peter’s side. “Ow.”

He sighed, struggling to get ahold of you since you always pulled away.

“Stop being so stubborn, okay?”

“If you don’t like my stubborn fucking ass then maybe you should just leave,” you stated. “I’m not wanted there. I got the message. I didn’t run away just to be fucking found.”

Peter stared at you for a moment. He didn’t know why you got grounded in the first place, how you got here and why you didn’t want to go back home. There was something off in the father-daughter relationship, he knew that, but it was news to him that it was that bad. That bad for you to waste your life, to run away. He always thought Mr. Stark was an awesome parent, the way he was treating Ethan, and him…

“It’s unfair,” you ranted. “God, if you only knew how pathetic I feel whenever he tells me off. I’m always annoying to him - not just to him, to the whole team, I’m always wrong in everything I do and it’s honestly tiring? What the fuck do I have to do just to feel loved and wanted?”

You went on rambling while Peter tried to comfort and deny every negative thing that came out of your mouth. He didn’t believe any of it, but the way everyone’s been treating you. He hated that he didn’t notice sooner. He could’ve defended you.

“I have nothing against you, I really don’t,” you sighed. “But you should be grateful they’re treating you perfectly.” You got up and strode to the opposite direction, mentally cursing because your friends ditched you and you has nowhere to go, phone destroyed and everything.

But you were staying true to your word: you didn’t have any plans to go back to the compound. You were going to figure your life out on your own.

“Y/N, I… I’m not leaving you alone out here!”

You were so fed up of the spider-ling. How good he was, how perfect, how Tony clearly wanted him more than you, how he always wanted to do the right thing, because none of you expected what happened next when he went to grab your shoulder. The action was so sudden that it Peter didn’t have time to avoid it.

Knife, shoulder, really deep.

Maybe it was just how wasted you were, because he knew you would never do anything like that.

“You’re really annoying, Parker,” you muttered, not wasting any more time watching him stumble out of shock and pain, sprinting across the streets.

With his uninjured arm, he shot webs while trying to pull the knife (the blade wasn’t even visible anymore on how deep it was) out of his shoulder. There was a loud bang, and Peter never sprinted so fast in his life, not caring less about the pain and blood, because what mattered most was your safety. When he got there, you were far from safe.

-----

A week went by. And during those seven days Tony was on edge, I mean, how can be calm at a time like that?

Peter managed to show up at the compound the same night, breathless and shaky. His state made everyone worried but he wasted no time telling Tony what happened. He got you to the hospital, making sure you were being sorted out right before leaving to break the news.

Tony didn’t think twice and went to the hospital where you were admitted, not listening to Peter’s apologies and leaving Steve to sort everyone out on what they should do.

They didn’t expect you to show signs of waking up after only a week since the accident got you mangled up, it was mostly a blow to the head and as expected, you slipped into a coma.

Right, what happened: an awful timing really, not sure if Peter’s the one to blame but he accidentally stuck you to the ground with his webs, and it just so happened a car was driving at a fast speed – there you go.

Tony made sure you got the best treatment possible. He even went and asked Strange if he could do all the surgeries needed, but he declined, claiming he couldn’t anymore despite the sympathy he felt inside. Instead he asked the best doctors he knew, but still helped out sometimes in any way he could.

You took a breath, trying to open your eyes but the blinding lights of your room and them almost feeling as if they were glued shut from not being open for so long prevented you. You also tried moving your hands, only to feel a warm one rest on top of it, you finally opened your eyes.

“You’re awake,” Tony mumbled, rubbing a thumb on the back of your palm soothingly. “You’re awake and you’re okay.”

“Mr. Stark?” Peter called out, spotting his mentor sitting outside the room where they were doing the final surgery on you. It was his first time visiting, seeing as the knife wound was worse than he thought. “I’m so sorry, I-“

“What happened?” Was the only thing Tony said, not looking up to look at the kid. Peter stood there for a moment but told him everything that happened.

After that and after he made sure you were okay, resting in your room and everything, he let Natasha look after you for the night and headed back to the compound.

The kid would never lie to him but he had to see it all for himself. The Spider-Man suit caught everything through the baby monitor protocol. From when he arrived to the convenient store, when you told him countless of times that you weren’t coming back, and when your drunk self ranted about what you felt.

“What the fuck do I have to do just to feel loved and wanted?”

“He seemed to like both of us equally when we were younger,” you sniffled. “Of course he would, but… my brother just turned out to be special and talented and,” you frowned, “he’s all Tony ever wanted for a kid. Maybe I reminded him of the chick he fucked, I don’t know – must be it, right?”

“Y/N, you’re just as special as-” Peter tried to reason but you threw him a glare. Tony could see the pain and heartbreak in your bloodshot, tired eyes. One that said you didn’t want to hear anything like it anymore. You didn’t want to believe it.

“The thing is, they only want you when you’re gone. Missing. Dead,” you shrugged. “I can take a hint, you know? My only family hates me. My only family doesn’t want me. Now you – all of them – are looking for me… why?” Peter flinched at the loudness of your voice. You truly were broken.

Tony fast forwarded, it didn’t clearly show how you got hit, but he had enough anyway. He wanted to make things right with you. He could only hope that you make pass this, hoping that you’ll let him make it up to you.

“It’s not too late, you know,” Steve said from the entrance to his lab. “Y/N is strong. She’ll make it.”

“Why am I not dead?” You croaked, looking at your father with an anxious expression. You letting out another shaky breath as you struggled to move and look around. “I should be dead. Why am I here-”

“Take it easy-”

“Don’t you understand?” You felt your throat aching, breath quickening. “I don’t want to be here!”

“No, you’re okay. Y/N you’re okay,” Tony tried to calm you down when he saw the lines in your heart monitor go up and down in rapid pace.

“I’m not - no I’m not - not okay,” you struggled to let out. It felt like you were choking on your own breath, getting harder and harder to breathe by the minute, soon tears started to prick your eyes. “I don’t want to be here!”

“Tony, what's going on?” Steve bursted into the room with an alarmed but calm expression.

“Call Strange. Anyone.” He told the captain but his eyes never left you. He rubbed a part of your arm that wasn’t injured soothingly in attempt to calm you down. “Just breathe for me, okay? I’m here and you’re okay.”

Something about the softness and encouraging look in his eyes made you nod eventually and follow his breathing patterns. He held a glass of water for you to drink, holding your struggling hand softly to get it out of the way.

He’s never looked at you like that before.

Most of the time he ignored you, most of the time he looked at you at anger or annoyance when you’ve fucked something up.

“There we go, we okay now?” You looked away and nodded lightly. That was enough for him. Tony wanted to let you know how sorry he was so bad, but thought against it, at least for now. He was scared you might start freaking out again.

Stephen entered the room with the doctor, the other Avengers following closely behind. The amount of people in the room overwhelmed you a bit, but you were strangely calm because of how your father’s acting. Soft and caring, it made you feel safe.

Both doctors concluded that you had some sort of amnesia. In English, your past memories were blotchy, all of them even from your childhood. Again because of the blow to the head it was already expected. But you remembered the recent ones clearly, which was the reason why you avoided looking at Peter and his patched up arm.

Which also meant it was possible you didn’t remember all of the pain you felt concerning your family. It was unfair on your part.

Strange insisted that you stay a few more days, or one more week, just to run tests and make sure you get enough medicine and stuff.

They decided to see how bad your memory loss was.

“I did that to you,” you still refused to look at Peter completely. “I’m sorry, Peter.”

“I’m just glad you’re okay.” Peter gave you a smile.

You moved to the next person. Red hair, seemed to give off a friendly but civil nature. “Natasha? You’re Natasha.”

The Russian merely smiled and crossed her arms.

“Steve,” you stated, moving to the next person. “You always read old books in the kitchen.”

Steve chuckled, nodding to confirm.

“Ethan,” you smiled as you looked at your twin. He gave you a small wave even if he felt as guilty as Tony about everything even if he wasn’t the one to blame.

You stared longer at the next person, almost shoulder length dark brown hair, he’s wearing a jacket to cover his metal arm but you knew it was still there.

“Ducky?”

Peter let out a giggle, so did you brother.

“It’s Bucky, doll,” Bucky smiled, covering his face with his hand to suppress a chuckle as the rest laughed.

“Oh, right, I’m sorry,” you let out a weak giggle yourself.

You meet Tony’s eyes again, the softness still there.

“Dad,” you stated. “You’re my dad. Tony.”

No, you didn’t completely forget how he treated you. You knew he was annoyed with you, which lead you to think that you did something that made him act that way. “Am I bad?”

Tony’s hopeful expression dimmed. “What do you mean, sweetheart?”

You shrugged. “You’re mad at me, I just… I guess it’s just not clear on why.”

Steve thought it would be best for everyone to head out for a bit so he ushered everyone out of the room except for your brother who took a seat at the corner.

“About that, it’s about time we talked, yeah?” Tony sat on a chair backwards beside your bed. It made you nervous, but you were reassured. “You’re not in trouble, don’t worry.”

He exhaled, resting an arm on the top rail. “You deserve so much better. I should’ve treated you better,” you opened your mouth to ask but he continued. “Look, I haven’t been fair with you and it’s a problem. You’re smart, talented and beautiful. I figured you needed to hear it more often because it’s true. What I’m trying to say is, I’m sorry. I really am.”

Your bottom lip involuntarily trembled. “You – you really mean that?”

“From the bottom of my heart.”

You sighed, a genuine smile plastered on your face. “Thank you. And I’m sorry if I was a pain in the ass-“

“You never were,” Tony shook his head. “You always did your best and I really should have acknowledged it more. Give me a second chance?”

“Of course.”

Tony smiled, getting up and planting a gentle kiss to your forehead.

Everything in life was so much better after all that. Tony treated you and Ethan equally, same goes for Peter. The other Avengers were nicer, not the kind of nice that was almost fake, but it was genuine. All of them were. And you were thankful.

----

TAGLIST: @contanto-que-voce-me-queira @angeldreineedshelp @legendarymcnuggies @zoeyserpentluck @vienmiaprendere @alainabooks143 @hessogxlden

DID ANYONE MISS ME? BC I MISSED THIS PLACE

I highly doubt anyone’s still waiting for this, it was an unplanned hiatus I’M SO SORRY but I decided to post anyway :))

also I hope this wasn’t underwhelming, that’s one of the reasons why I was hesitant to do this but I hope its good heh (I’ve included the parts from my first post as well, just so it feels like a full fic)

WAIT I ALSO HIT 300 FOLLOWERS? INSANE. THANK YOU. I MEAN IT.

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yelena-bellova · 3 years

Text

Safe Haven: tfatws!Bucky Barnes x fem!reader - Chapter One

Chapter One: The Other Wilson Sister - chapter two

Series Masterlist

Plot: Y/n grew up with Sam and Sarah Wilson in the bayou of Delacroix. During the Blip she stayed with Sarah to help run the family business. With Sam back and trying to save the day, Y/n’s perfect opportunity to confess her long-kept secret to her best friend presents itself.

Warnings: tfatws ep.1 spoilers, language, suicide mention, undertones of racism, lots of Wilson sibling arguments, tragic backstory

Word Count: 5.9k

A/N: As I wrote this first chapter out I realized it’s most definitely also a Sam Wilson x platonic fic. Bucky doesn’t come in till next chapter but rest assured, it’s gonna be a wild ride...Also I didn’t know till now how difficult it is to plan out a series in its entirety when the show isn’t completed lol. Hope you enjoy! (I may or may not change the title depending on how I feel about it later today lol)

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Delacroix, LA 2024

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One of the only things I was certain of in life was that blood didn’t make a family.

I had no official tie to Wilson family, I wasn’t a daughter or some distant cousin sent to live with them. We shared no DNA and they had no reason to love me as much as they did. But throughout my life I had known no kinder people than them and I doubted that would change. As I stood on the family boat helping to unload the catch of the day, I thought of how our corner of the Louisiana bayou felt more like home than any place I’d ever been.

“Hey,” Sarah said from the dock, “Head out of the clouds and down here helping me.” “Sorry,” I shook myself out of my thoughts and hopped off the boat, “Not a bad catch if you ask me.”

Sarah sighed as she bent over a large bucket of fish, “It could’ve been better.” I came to stand in front of her and held my hands out for a bucket, “Take the wins where you can get ‘em, Sar. Lord knows we don’t get enough of them.” Sarah Wilson was the only superhero I’d ever aspire to be like. She was a widow who had raised two kids and run a business all by herself with no family for support. The past five years had been challenging with so many people gone and while I had moved in with her to help however I could, I could take no credit. She was one of the strongest women I’d ever known.

“You had that look on your face again,” she said as we worked.

“What look?”

“That look that lets me know you were thinking real hard about something,” Sarah imitated the expression in question by thinning her eyes slightly and furrowing her brows, “Like this.” I laughed heartily at her impression, “So what was it?” I gazed out at the bayou waters before turning to the boat and finally Sarah, “Family.”

She nudged me with her hip, something we’d done when we were young and an affectionate gesture we’d carried into adulthood. A half hour went by with us and the boys unloading and sorting the fish we’d caught. I was too wrapped up in the task to notice the sound of a vehicle approaching until AJ and Cass announced the arrival.

“Blue for the snapper, orange for the whitefish.”

“Uncle Sam!”

My head shot up upon hearing his name, as did Sarah’s. I used my hand as a visor against to sun to spot the familiar rusted truck parked a few hundred feet away, with my best friend standing outside it hugging his nephews.

“That’s right, Uncle Sam,” Sarah called, “You’re back early.”

I grinned as I shucked my gloves off and made a beeline for him, slamming my body into his for a tight embrace. It had been a few weeks since I’d seen him, having spent the only weekend he was off away, and I’d naturally been worried sick about him. My best friend and un-biological brother may have been an Avenger for years, but after losing him in the Blip I didn’t think I’d ever stop worrying about him.

“Every time I come home, you act like I’ve been gone for five years,” he joked over my shoulder, resulting in me pulling away and slapping his bicep.

“Not even a little funny,” I pointed a finger in his smug face, he slung an arm around my neck as we walked over to Sarah.

“What’s goin’ on? You got Mom’s sneaky look on your face.” “How you gonna try to read me when you know I’m the one that reads you?” Sam smiled, passing by and greeting a long time customer of ours. “That look is permanently glued to his face, Sar,” I chuckled, “I learned that in grade school.” Sam shook his head at me and laughed before making his way up the dock to the Wilson family boat. “You gotta marvel at it, baby’s being held together by duct tape and prayers.” I leaned into Sarah, “Are you telling him or am I?” She took the initiative, “It just needs to float long enough for me to sell it.” “I thought we were gonna discuss if we were selling it,” Sam replied as he helped unload another bucket of fish. “We did, and then you were off fighting Doctor Space Cape or whatever while we,” Sarah gestured between us, “Were holdin’ it together for five long years. Now that the world is going back to normal, this thing’s gotta go.”

Sam looked to me with a look of displeasure, “Were you in on this?” “Don’t drag me into this,” I waved my hands as if wiping my involvement away, “This is a Wilson sibling discussion.” “Uh-uh,” Sam called me out, wagging his finger, “Don’t do that. Dad said every chance he got that you were one of his own, you’ve got a say in this too. What is it?” I scrunched my face up, dreading the argument that was knocking on our door, “It’s dead weight, Sam. The money we could get for it would be enough to keep us comfortable for a little longer without having to worry.” “We grew up on this thing. It’s not just Mom and Dad’s name on it. This thing is a part of our family.”

I sighed as Sarah stepped forward, “You know the situation we’re in. This is why I prefer not to dwell on it in front of everybody.” “Well what if we don’t need to sell it?” Sam said. “Can we talk about this in private?” I suggested, tiring of having to convince Sam that we were in the right when he hadn’t been around to witness our struggles. A long time friend of ours called out to Sam and he willingly took the distraction, opting out of having the inevitable difficult conversation. Sarah and I trudged back, totes of fish in hand and tried to get through the rest of the work day without worrying if we were approaching our last.

————

During golden hour, when the clock had struck five and we’d started packing it up for the day was the only time to get Sam to actually listen. I knew how much the boat meant to him, it meant something to us all, but he wasn’t living in the reality that Sarah and I were.

“Sam, the boat’s gotta go,” Sarah finally said, breaking the silence we were working in on the vessel. “Wait-“ “No, let me finish,” she said, “Y/n and I are doin’ everything I can to keep this business afloat and every day we’re making $5 and spending $10.” Sam looked between the two of us, “So why won’t you let me help?”

“Sam, don’t…” I winced, knowing Sarah’s reaction would be strong.

“No, don’t start with that. We made a deal before Daddy died,” Sarah carried a few buckets to the center of the deck, “You’re out there, I do things my way here. Y/n agreed to it too when she went off to school.” “Right, but you tangled the house into this when you took those loans,” Sam finished tying off one of the ropes, turning around and giving Sarah the perfect opportunity to punch his chest, “Forgot how hard you hit.” I sighed as I passed him by to follow Sarah, “Low blow, you deserved it.”

“Sarah, Y/n, c’mon,” he chased after us, “Look, and don’t hit me again…What if you had money to fix it up? Make it nice so you can charter it when you’re not out working the waters?” “Sam, do you think this was an easy decision for us?” I faced him, leaning against the doorway next to him, “I tried every tactic I learned in business school and got nowhere. Anything I thought up, we needed more money to do. This is our only option.” As he always did with the things he cared about, he fought. “We can take a loan and consolidate everything, it’ll take down your monthly,” he looked confused as he watched Sarah laugh, “What?” “You think I didn’t try the banks? They’re in with all that big business now.” I followed them like the little sister I’d always been as they moved their fight towards the cockpit of the boat. Sam blocked another doorway, “Yeah, but now you have me.”

“Don’t, Sam,” Sarah shook her head, “I just got good with this.”

“All right…”

“Maybe it is time for us to move on,” Sarah sighed. “Either way, just let me help,” Sam offered, “I’ll set the appointment. Look, I won’t let you guys down. We can turn this shit around. Trust me.” I peered over at Sarah, wishing I could see the calculations going on in her brain. It seemed pointless, but any shot at changing our luck was an avenue worth pursuing.

“It can’t hurt to try,” I shrugged.

Sarah finally relented, “To the rescue, huh?”

“Always,” Sam smiled, “Now, let’s get some dinner. I’m hungry.” ————

Sarah was taking AJ and Cass back home while Sam and I took his truck to go pick up food.

“So how was Tunisia?” I asked, sticking my hand out the window and letting it rise and fall with the wind.

“Hot, but the mission went well,” he answered, looking out of the corner of his eyes at me, “And that’s all you need to know.”

I snickered, “C’mon, it’s our thing. I ask you detailed questions about your confidential missions, you tell me you can’t reveal anything, I keep asking…You’ve gotta honor tradition.” “I flew, I fought, I rescued. Boom, mission explained.” “Ugh, you’re impossible, Wilson,” I waved him off, “How was the museum dedication?” The atmosphere changed as the subject of conversation changed from easy to complicated. “It was nice to see Steve’s accomplishments celebrated. Got to see Rhodes which was nice…” “You’re avoiding a red white and blue topic,” I said, trying to coax his true feelings out of their shells, “Seriously, are you really okay with this? Giving up the shield?” Sam inhaled deeply and exhaled, gathering his thoughts. “I don’t think it was ever meant to end up in my hands. I did the right thing, it belongs with Steve and the museum is the closest to Steve I can get.” I respected my friend’s choice but I knew there was so much more to his decision and I wished he would just say it. He had an enormous amount of respect for Steve Rogers and what the shield represented, but Steve Rogers never had to face the issues that Sam Wilson did. Steve Rogers could follow a government and be respected in return with no problems whatsoever. Sam Wilson couldn’t, not always. There was an elephant in the room and if neither of us wanted to talk about it, I wouldn’t push it.

“You’d have looked good in that uniform though,” I smiled as we turned into the take out place’s parking lot.

“Damn right,” Sam waggled his eyebrows and unbuckled his seatbelt. Laughter rang out in the truck sending me on waves of nostalgia. The memories that me and him had in this truck still were infamous between us. As proud as I was of the Falcon’s heroics, I was prouder to call Sam Wilson my best friend.

————

Just as he’d promised, Sam made the appointment with the banker. He and Sarah were already on their way as I made the hour long drive in the opposite direction to New Orleans. I’d told them I’d be back in the evening to discuss how it went, but I had my own appointment to keep.

Sam and I had met back when we were just a couple of first graders. I’d always struggled with making friends as a kid, but Sam never had an issue when it came to connecting with others. It was one of his strongest qualities. And so he used his gift on his desk neighbor, the loneliest kid in class, and pulled her out of herself. We were inseparable until college and adulthood forced us apart, but we’d never lost our bond. Even when he was a pararescue, he wrote to me as often as his work allowed him.

All the Wilsons had taken a liking to me after Sam brought me home one day after school to watch cartoons. Darlene had told me I was welcome to come over any time I wanted, an offer Sam and I accepted till I became a permanent fixture in their house. Paul and his wife had frequently tried to get the rest of my family over for a crawfish boil or a barbecue. They’d send me every few weeks with a verbal invitation to my parents and the next day I’d always come back with a polite decline and excuse as to why we couldn’t make it. Mom was busy with spring cleaning, Melanie had a recital, Dad was feeling under the weather…

The only one that had ever been true was about my dad not feeling well. He was never well. But as a child, how do you explain that your father is a ghost around his own home who drinks himself to sleep and wakes up each night screaming from nightmares? There was no polite way to phrase circumstances that dark. Sometimes I felt like my dad had never returned from the military and though there hadn’t been a war at the time of his service, he still came back with his share of trauma. Mom did everything she could to try and help him. She found support groups for veterans, she took him to the best psychiatrists, she created a safe space for him within our home to retreat to. There was no amount of help that could kill my father’s demons and that was proven the night he’d said we were out of milk and he was going to the store. A few hours later, with my sister and I fast asleep upstairs, my worried mother answered the door and was informed by the police that my father had crashed his car and was dead. After speaking to Mom about what his mood had been like before he’d left and if he suffered from any mental illnesses, it was ruled as an undoubtable suicide.

My mother didn’t get much time to mourn after the funeral, she had two children to provide for. She took three jobs just to earn enough to move us from our house in New Orleans to a dingy apartment in Delacroix by the bayou. When the Wilsons heard that Mom needed to scrape enough money in the budget to hire a baby-sitter for me and Melanie, they put a stop to her efforts immediately. The insisted that Mel and I would be happier spending the time my mom was working with them and their kids rather than a stranger. That was how the Wilsons and the Y/l/ns had ended up so tightly knit. While Sarah and Melanie had bonded as the older sisters and were often off doing their own thing, Sam and I caused havoc of our own in classic younger sibling fashion. By the time we were in high school, both parents called the other’s children their own.

When Paul and Darlene passed away, it was incredibly hard on all of us and it was equal when Mom had a fall and the doctors suggested she move into a facility. Sam, Sarah and I had worked hard to get her into one of the best nursing homes in the city and she hadn’t stopped raving about how much she loved it. Pulling into the parking lot was like muscle memory now, I never missed a weekend visit with her. This one was special because Melanie, her husband and brood of children had come too. I grabbed my visitor’s sticker at the front desk and made my way down the familiar hallways. The sound of laughter and cooing echoed out of my mom’s room, bringing a smile to my face.

I knocked on the door and heads turned, my nieces and nephews being the quickest. “Aunt Y/n!” I embraced Sophia and Max tightly, “The twin tornados! I missed you guys,” separating from them was difficult as they clung to me but I made it to Stephan, giving him a kiss on the cheek and doing the same to Mel, “You look hot, mama.” “I certainly don’t feel it,” she remarked as she cradled their newest addition, baby Alexandra, close to her chest, “I spend more hours of the day covered in glitter glue and spit up than you could imagine.” “You wear it all well,” I patted her shoulder before coming to my mother’s bedside and hugging her, “Hi, Mom.”

“Hi, sweetheart,” she kissed both of my cheeks and looked to the door, “Sarah and Sam couldn’t come?” “No, but they send their love. They had an appointment at the bank,” I set down my purse and pulled up a chair, “We’re trying to get approved for a small business loan.”

Glen took Alexandra from Mel so she could tend to the twins, “I wish we could help out, Y/n. I’ve looked at the budget over and-“ It warmed my heart that my brother-in-law cared so much about a problem that wasn’t his to bear. “Glen,” I held up a hand, “You guys are stretched thin enough. This isn’t me asking for charity, it’s our problem and Sam’s confidant we’ll find a fix.” “How does he have enough time to be a member of the Air Force, an Avenger and save the family business?” Mel asked.

“Well, the Avengers are kind of off doing their own thing right now from what I understand and he’s home for a little while from the Air Force,” I explained, “So his main job at the moment is to get us our funding and annoy the snot out of me while doing it.” After earning some giggles from Sophia and Max at the expression, Glen announced that they were going to go and grab lunch for everybody. My mom took my hand once it was just the two of us and I settled into my seat, “How are you, sweetheart?”

“Hanging in there,” I sighed, running a hand through my hair, “Tired, stressed, I smell like fish most of the time…We need this loan or else we’re going to have to sell the boat. You should’ve seen Sam’s face when Sarah told him…”

“I’m sorry, I know how much that boat means to you kids. I could’ve offered you the moon and stars and it still wouldn’t have been enough to get you off it.” I smiled at the memories of summer nights spent laying on the deck stargazing, dance parties on the stern and early mornings spent with Mr. Wilson teaching us how to fish. A childhood with so much sadness had also contained so many joys. To part with a tangible one killed me more than I’d let on to Sam.

Sensing that the topic was making me emotional, my mother was kind enough to change it. “How are things otherwise? Have you been getting out there?” I dropped my head back dramatically and groaned, “Mom…” “I’m just saying,” she dropped my hand and held up hers in surrender, “You should get out there, meet someone. There’s no shame in trying those online dating services. What’s the one…the…Tinder?” “Oh my gosh, Mom,” I buried my face in my hands and moved my fingers so she could only see my eyes, “Please stop talking.” “You know who I ran into the other day? Jack’s mom, from high school. She lives just down the next hallway, she says that he’s still single. You could get in touch with him.” “Y’know, for a woman who advocated for her daughters to lead such independent lives, you’re sure quick to try and marry us off,” I chuckled, “The second Mel started dating Glen you were practically booking the church.” “And I’m very proud of both my girls for being such strong young women,” she smiled proudly, “But finding love doesn’t mean losing your independence so long as you’re with the right man. I love that you’ve been helping out Sarah these last few years but honey…I see how lonely you are. In those big y/e/c eyes you think I still can’t read after all these years.” The y/e/c eyes in question started to fill with sadness at hearing my pain verbalized. It was true, I was lonely. More so than I would ever let on to anybody. I was a shy enough kid who only withdrew further after Dad passed away, that kind of introversion wasn’t one that you outgrew. But I’d given up the idea of finding someone to spend my life with a long time ago for a bevy of reasons.

“Sometimes it’s better to be alone, Mama,” I nodded as if to force myself to agree with my statement, “No chances of getting hurt…or hurting somebody.” “You couldn’t hurt somebody even if you tried,” my mom argued sweetly, “You couldn’t even kill spiders when you were a kid.” “And now there’s a Spiderman out there so I’m glad I didn’t,” I shot back with a laugh.

“I’m serious, honey,” she took my hand once again, “Don’t let your heart’s wounds keep you from finding someone who could help soothe them.”

I was convinced my mother was both a poet and a therapist at some point in her life, she gave advice in the most beautifully phrased way. And while I’d loved to have taken her words to heart, tell Mel to fix me up with one of Glen’s friends and put an end to my loneliness, I feared that I was just too broken to give love to someone.

————

I arrived back home late, shedding my boots and bag at the doors. I’d expected to hear a triumphant chorus of Sam shouting ‘WHO DA MAN?’ as he typically would when heroically proving me and Sarah wrong, but there was only silence. When I walked into the kitchen and saw their glum faces, it wasn’t hard to guess the outcome of the meeting. “You’re kidding me…” “Said that things had tightened up,” Sam said, leaning against one side of the island and taking a swig of his beer, “Had the balls to ask me for a picture afterwards.” I groaned and grabbed the beer bottle Sarah had extended to me, “Okay, we’re out of options. It’s time to move forward-“ “Don’t say it…” Sam tiredly warned.

“Someone has to, Sam. We can’t keep searching for solutions when the right one is sitting out on our dock,” I gestured to the window that looked out on the road we took each day to work.

Sarah set her beer down and held her hands up in surrender, “I’m not having this argument again tonight, I’m going to bed. If you’re gonna kill each other, do it quietly.” She left as me and Sam silently stared each other down, waiting for the other to speak. I was too frustrated to play the game, “What’s this really about?” “It’s about the damn boat and that you and Sarah are throwing in the towel too-“ “What,” I elongated the single syllable word, “Is this really about?” Sam set his drink down and rubbed his hands over his head before looking back up at me helplessly, “You guys were on your own for five years and you’ve done an amazing job. But now nothing’s working and I just…I just want to help because I couldn’t for so long.” It all clicked as to why Sam was being so insistent on trying to eliminate the whole matter. He was used to saving the day and finally meeting one that he couldn’t save was a wall he thought he could still find a way to run through. He’d been like that ever since we were kids, always trying to help the people he loved even when it was impossible. He had the biggest heart of anyone I’d ever met.

“I love you,” I set down my bottle and crossed the island to come next to him and wrap my arms around his shoulders, “But this may be one problem that the Falcon can’t swoop in and fix. The Avengers work hard, but a business graduate helping to run a struggling seafood business works harder,” I succeeded in getting him to crack a smile, “Believe me, I’ve run all the numbers and consulted with anyone who would listen. The boat’s gotta go.”

“Yeah, well, humor me and give me a little while longer.”

“Fine, a couple more days,” I grabbed my beer once again and clinked it against his, “But it’s not my fault if Sarah smacks you again.” Sam laughed, slung an arm around my neck and kissed my temple. “You coming up soon?”

“Yeah, I’ll be up in a few minutes,” I answered, watching as he finished his drink before leaving the kitchen and heading upstairs. Once I’d heard his bedroom door open and close, I exited out to the back porch. I took in the late night sounds of the bayou, the crickets chirping and the wind rustling trees had always soothed me. I wished they could touch what I was feeling right now, but the noise didn’t do a thing to drown out my worry. For the business I feared we may lose, for Sam as he ran himself ragged trying to help and for myself and what him and Sarah would think of me once I confessed the secret I’d kept from them for so long.

I held out my hand and watched as the blue energy flowed from my fingertips. Would Sam ever forgive me for not telling him I had powers? They had manifested when I was young, my parents said. I couldn’t remember a day where my body hadn’t produced a magical energy that when harnessed incorrectly could be destructive. It had been a sad day for my mother’s garden when I’d discovered that bit…According to her, she’d wanted to take me to a school for people like me run by a man named Charles Xavier but my father had said no immediately. He’d been so insistent on keeping my powers a secret that my mother said she’d only seen that type of fear in his eyes when he had a war flashback. So I was instructed to never show my powers to anyone under any circumstances and I’d done just that. I’d thought about revealing them in 2012 after the Battle of New York, but my dad’s fear rang in my ears. Three years later when Sam became an Avenger was when I began to feel guilty that I was keeping a secret from him. I’d wanted to join him and find somewhere where I didn’t feel so out of place, but I’d decided against it again. Now with their team so broken and Sam off with the Air Force, I’d finally gathered the courage to confide in him and Sarah. I should have done it six months ago, but I’d chickened out too many times. Tomorrow, I decided. Tomorrow was the day. But would they still see me the same way once I showed them? ————

The next morning, after dressing and running over what I wanted to say three times, I hesitantly headed downstairs to face the music. With there being nobody in the kitchen, I followed the sounds of the television to find Sarah and Sam staring at the screen intently. I stood to the side of the room and watched a suited man give a speech out front of a government building. “We need someone to inspire us again, someone who can be a symbol for all of us. So, on behalf of the Department of Defense and our Commander-in-Chief, it is with great honor that we announce here today that the United States of America has a new hero. Join me in welcoming your new Captain America.”

My jaw slackened as a man marched out in front of the gathered press, dressed in a variation of Steve Rogers’ patriotic uniform and carrying the iconic shield. The shield that had only weeks ago sat upstairs in Sam’s bedroom in a case. I dragged my gaze away from the screen to look at my best friend, hunched over in his seat with his eyes shut in sorrow. Sarah looked just as distraught, her eyes trained on her brother as well. We waited in silence until the breaking news broadcast switch back to regularly scheduled programming before Sarah switched the box off.

“I thought you said it was going to stay in the museum,” I finally spoke, my voice choked with emotion.

“It was supposed to,” Sam ground out, his grip on his own hands tightening. Without any warning, he rose from his seat and left the room. My instinct was to follow him and try to comfort him, but there was nothing I could say to ease the deep pain he was feeling. I wasn’t even sure I could form words that weren’t doused in raw shock. The two things I was sure of were that a) the government had fucked up royally and b) now was definitely not the time to tell Sam about my powers.

————

It was a few days later and Sam still hadn’t spoken much to Sarah and I about the situation. It was unnatural for Sam to suffer in silence especially around us, but we both gave him the space he needed.

I was taking laundry to AJ and Cass’ room and had to pass by Sam’s, surprised to see him packing a bag. “Thought you were sticking around.” “Something big came up,” he replied as he set a stack of t-shirts in his duffle bag, “I need to go check it out.” I leaned against his doorway, “Air Force big or Avengers big?” “The second one.” “And you’re going by yourself?” I asked with raised eyebrows.

Sam looked over his shoulder at me finally, “Don’t have anybody to else to call. Besides, I can handle myself.” I hummed in response before setting down the stack of laundry, an idea forming in my head that could solve both of our problems. I folded my hands together and dug my feet into the carpet, “What if you didn’t have to go by yourself?” He looked confused, “What are you talking about?” My folded hands began to make circles in the air as I struggled for the right words, “What if I came with you?” “What, like take your family to work day something?” Sam scoffed, “That’d be fun.” “I’m serious.” “Are you crazy? Of course you can’t come.” “Hear me out,” I looked to his bag and the pair of jeans he had next to fold, “Actually watch.” He folded his arms and waited for my demonstration. I took a deep breath and extended my hand, forcing my energy outwards to levitate the jeans. “Whoa!” Sam exclaimed as he watched me maneuver the clothing inside his duffle, “W-w-what…What was that?” I shrugged and pulled my hand back to my side, “The reason why you should take me.”

“How long have you been able to do that?” “Since I was a kid,” I moved out of the doorway and closed the door, the last thing I needed was AJ and Cass knowing their aunt could move things with her mind, “My parents told me never to tell anybody. I’ve thought about telling you for years since you’re used to this kind of thing but I was scared…Then you were gone and when you came back, life was moving non-stop and I lost my courage. I’m sorry I didn’t tell you sooner.” Sam stood with his jaw hung for a few seconds before shaking his head back into reality, “Why are you apologizing? You never had to tell me, but I’m glad you did,” he pointed a finger towards me, “But you’re still not going.” “What are you talking about? I’d be an asset to whatever it is you’re fighting! And I love you but c’mon bird boy, you may be able to fly but I can do it without any tech.” “Oh, so that’s how you wanna play?” Sam gestured between the two of us, “You think insulting me is the way to get me to let you come?” “Come on,” I moved to sit on his bed, “Tell me what the problem is and I’ll prove that I can help.” “Alright, alright,” Sam took a stance in front of me, “You wanted to hear the tea on my missions, I’ll spill it. There’s an online group called the Flag Smashers, their MO is to get the world back to the way it was during the last five years. My military contact, Torres, went undercover in Switzerland when they robbed a bank. Knocked him unconscious when he tried to fight back.” I balanced my elbows on my knees and tapped a finger against my lip, “So kind of a Robin Hood deal, right? Stealing things from the rich and giving it to the poor. In this case, the poor being those who never disappeared.” “Exactly, except the guy that knocked Torres out was strong. Too strong. I’m thinking they could be a part of-“ “The big three.” Sam’s neck snapped back, “How do you know about the big three?” I shrugged nonchalantly, “The little you do tell me about your avenging always ties back to either androids, aliens or wizards. Though I think you’re being a little dramatic with the term ‘wizard.’”

“Are you seriously gonna correct the guy who’s actually there doing the fighting?” “Are you seriously gonna deny yourself valuable help against either an alien or an android?”

Sam sighed, I was successfully backing him into a corner. “Can you even fight?”

Extending one hand, I levitated Sam and gently slammed his back into the ceiling before reversing course and lowering him onto the carpet. He moaned as he rolled over to face me, “Could’ve given me a concussion.” “Maybe that would knock some sense into your head,” I stood and gave him my hand to pull him up, “Sam, I know that I don’t have any experience but I am more than capable of defending myself. I want to actually do something with these powers instead of sitting on my ass. I’d rather do it with you than on my own. Please?” I watched the cogs in his mind turn through his eyes, I knew he was only fighting this hard because he wanted to keep me safe. But he was in way over his head if he thought it wasn’t worth taking me with. He accepted my hand and stood to his full height, “Pack a bag, we’re leaving for the air base in an hour.” I smiled and threw my arms around him, “Thank you, you won’t regret this.” “I’d better not,” he warned, his arms stayed straightened in displeasure of my enthusiasm, “If you take some stupid risk and put yourself in jeopardy, I’m putting your ass on a plane home.” Quick footsteps could be heard coming down the hallway until the door opened to reveal Sarah, “What was all that noise? It sounded like you were throwing each other into walls.” “Busy,” I quickly dismissed her, using my energy to shut the door in Sarah’s face from a distance.

“Um,” her muffled voice rang through, “What the hell was that?!”

--------

Taglist: (open)

#bucky barnes x reader #bucky barnes imagine #sam wilson x reader #sam wilson imagine #marvel imagine

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the-witty-pen-name · 3 years

Text

The Nanny Pt. 3

Lee Bodecker x Nanny!F!Reader

18+

Word Count: 3.3k

Warnings: alcohol/drinking, food, corrupt cop, mentions of prostitution/smut, implied age gap (reader is in her 20s), cursing, mentions of serial killers/murder, mutual pining,

Summary:

Based on this Request: The reader moves to Meade/Knockemstiff while answering an advertisement for a nanny in the paper. We learn that the ad was posted by Sandy, who has the reader watch her child whenever she and Carl leave to do their secret thing. After one of these trips, Sandy and her husband never return, so the reader is left caring for their baby. With the new investigation into these events, she meets Sandy’s brother Lee, the older, out of shape, alcoholic bachelor, and they are suddenly thrown into each others lives as he begins looking into his sister’s disappearance. Through it all, Lee starts to fall for her, and they slowly become a family.

A/N: I got inspired re-watching one of my favorite shows and I want to know if anyone else gets the reference I’m using! If I missed anything I should include as a warning that I missed please let me know! This is also unedited!

Taglist Form is in my bio!

Series Masterlist

Your shoulders tensed listening to the radio in the morning. Sitting on your ottoman, you were painting your nails, using the coffee table as your nail station. It was a really bright morning, and you had the curtains pulled open to draw in light. Julie frantically rushed between her room and the bathroom getting ready for her shift at the diner. The newest single from The Beach Boys was playing through the little counter top radio, but at the top of the hour, the melodies playing through the speaker changed to the news. The top story of the morning was chilling.

“Jules,” you said, calling her over hesitantly, putting the cap back on the bottle of polish. “Come listen to this.”

She scurried out of her room while working to tie her apron in the back, and then she stood next to where you sat to listen to the story on the news. The color drained from her face as you both listened to the reporter describe the horrific scene that was under investigation early this morning.

Roy Laferty was an evangelical preacher whose body washed up by the lake very early that same morning. The news report talked about the police investigation, and also disclosed his wife Helen, is also reported missing. They are looking into the disappearance of Helen, as well as opening a full investigation on Laferty’s murder. They also urge individuals with any information regarding the two to call the Sheriff’s department and to provide a statement.

“That’s horrifying,” you mumble, shocked as you try to process the news. Julie nods in agreement but strangely doesn’t seem nearly as affected by the news as you.

“It’s happening again,” she mutters, obviously concerned but her lack of surprise worries you.

“What do you mean again?” you ask.

“There was a string of unexplained murders, all men, like this newest one,” Julie explained, “This was all over the news like two years ago- can’t believe you hadn’t heard about it.” All you could do was shrug; this was all new to you. “Obviously, there was nothing linking their deaths, but there were these five killings a couple of years ago that are still unsolved. There’s no evidence, but the town rumors it was like a serial killer or something. Nothing is confirmed, of course, just a story.”

“What makes people think it was all the same person?” you ask, hesitantly.

“All the people were always the same type,” she shrugs, “Men all in their 20s and 30s. Again, there’s nothing linking them all together. It’s just talk.”

You clicked off the radio, and didn’t know what to do with yourself. Julie patted your shoulder, comfortingly but she had to go on with her day. So did you, and you almost her ability to move about the apartment almost unfazed by the news. You suppose it makes sense, her growing up here she’s probably used to it. You didn’t have the experience or the thick skin she had.

You had decided to go to the library, still preoccupied by the news segment as well as the things Julie had told you about the Sheriff. You spent the better half of the morning looking at the library’s archives of old newspapers. You wanted to read more about the unsolved cases Julie had told you about, so there you sat for several hours looking through the microfilm reader. You even stumbled upon articles that featured the Sheriff.

There he was plain as day on the front page when it was announced he had won the election the first time he ran several years back. You couldn’t help but notice the changes in his appearance and demeanor compared to the man you keep running into. He was a little slimmer, and he looked a lot happier, a little fuller of life, you decided was a good way to explain it. His smile was wider, and you could see the difference in his eyes as well. It was seeing how he was before the stress of the job began to take its heavy toll. He had on the same leather jacket as well, you were fairly certain, even though the one in the photograph hung a little looser.

You continued to skim through articles, piecing your way through the history of Knockemstiff. Little articles in black and white that persevered the history of this dark little town. You were beginning to realize this backwater town was a lot more tangled and complex than you originally believed. It was a tangled history, riddled with crime and unclosed cases, that people seem to have either forgotten or choose to ignore for their own sake. Your mind wandered back to the things Julie had told you about the Sheriff and him being corrupt. You wonder how much of what you read about linked back to him. Though you imagine if he has any sort of political connection, which a man like him must have, the things he was involved in probably didn’t even make it into the paper. The thought made you physically shiver.

You put the large leather portfolios of archives you took and put them back into their proper place on the self chronologically. You grabbed your sweater from the back of your chair, and pushed the chair back into place. Looking up at the clock on the wall, it was only just one in the afternoon. You decided to head down to the diner and grab a bite, and also visit Julie during her second shift. It was a short walk from the library to the diner. Everywhere felt like a short walk here, probably because everything in downtown was not much bigger than a few blocks. The majority of people lived far from the center of town, on their own land and farms.

The little bell on the door rang when you stepped in and Julie waved at you from behind the counter and pointed for you to grab an empty table in her section. You put your bag on the table and took a seat. It was a fairly busy time, most people who worked at the surrounding businesses coming in for their lunch break. Julie brought you over a coffee and then said she’d be back to chat when she got to take her five.

Lee hadn’t been able to go home since the phone call. The symptoms of his hangover were worsening and he was growing more irritable. His five o’clock shadow was still evident on his tired face and his head was pounding. He tried his best to just power through it but the sound of anyone trying to talk to him just made his ears ring.

After leaving the scene, he had to stop by his office and then he was on the phone for the better part of an hour fielding calls from frantic citizens not only of Knockemstiff but also Meade, where Laferty was from. Despite how horribly he felt, he tried his best to keep his temper level and just reassure people he had things under control. He was losing his patience.

He opened up his desk drawer and grabbed his bottle of asprin. Empty. He threw it into the small waste bin and got up abruptly grabbing his jacket off the hook and storming out. He didn’t tell anyone he was leaving and he didn’t care. It was a short walk to the drugstore from the station and he wouldn’t be five minutes. He just needed to do something to stop his head from hurting.

“Afternoon, Sheriff,” the pharmacist greeted when he walked in. He nodded his head upwards briefly to reply without having to talk. He just needed to get in and out. She went back to whatever she was working on when he came in, and he browsed the aisles for what he needed. After paying and walking out, he glanced in the direction of the diner when he was crossing the street. There you were, again. Sitting alone and chatting with the waitress that was refilling your coffee.

He let out a heavy sigh, and then continued walking. He didn’t want you to see him like this, hungover, unshaved, wrinkled uniform and heavy undereye bags from his lack of sleep. You looked- well, Lee thought you were the prettiest thing he’s seen in a while, maybe ever. There was something about you he couldn’t pinpoint. Maybe it was just because you weren’t from here. You were a fresh face, and not ruined by this town. There was a sweetness and an innocence in how you talked to him, because you didn’t know him like the rest of people here did. He liked that.

Even when he left the station for the day, he couldn’t even go home yet. He had a meeting at the bar with one of Brown’s lackeys. He was just supposed to collect his cut so he couldn’t imagine it would take long, but he was still annoyed. Stepping into the bar he looked around as he took off his hat. It was a little more crowded tonight then when he was here last. The red curtain was closed and his eyes lingered there for a moment before directing his attention to the man he recognized who was waving him over.

“Sheriff,” the man greets and Lee slides into the booth across from him.

“Hayward,” he replies. Without even needing to order, the bartender comes over bringing them a bottle of scotch and two glasses.

“You ever go back there?” Hayward asks, watching as a girl came out and brought a man behind the curtain who had been waiting at the bar.

“No,” Lee scoffs.

“They are amazing,” Hayward says, almost giddy. Lee feels sympathy towards the poor woman who had to take care of him. Lee doesn’t acknowledge the statement and just empties his glass and begins to pour himself a second.

“So, my cut?” Lee asks. Hayward frowns and goes into the breast pocket of his sports coat and pulls out an envelope of cash.

“You aren’t getting full,” the man says when Lee cocks a brow at the thinness of the envelope.

“Still?” Lee asks, pissed. Hayward nods. Lee’s jaw clenches.

“You didn’t keep things tidy on your end,” Hayward reminds him, “You got one job. Keep the cops out of our territory. We had two cruisers drive through last week. The only reason you’re getting anything at all is cause you managed to keep your people off us when we did the exchange with Deckard’s crew.”

The man finishes his drink, and then slaps the empty glass on the table. He pulls out his own envelope, which is much thicker than Lee’s and drops down more than enough for the drinks. He chuckles condescendingly and tells the Sheriff to get a dance. Fuck that. Lee takes the extra money and plans to just put it right in his pocket and go home. He finishes his third scotch and suddenly his headache was back. He felt worse than he did earlier today.

“What can I do for you, Sheriff?” a feminine voice asks, making him break his line of thought. He looks to his side and he recognizes her as one of the girls he sees bringing men to the back room, behind the velvet curtain. He shakes his head, and instead of leaving him alone, she slides into the booth next to him. Her hand grazes over his thigh. “You seem awful tense, Sheriff,” she says and then bites her lip.

He’d be lying if he said he wasn’t tempted. He knows she doesn’t actually want him, and it’s just an attempt to get him to spend money in the backroom. If he doesn’t focus his already hazing vision, maybe she could vaguely remind him of you. He can’t do it, but he wants to. Her hand moves up his leg and he pulls away. He adjusts his pants and she shrugs.

“Maybe next time then,” she winks before walking away. He rests his head back on the vinyl seat and sighs. He grabs his hat and jacket, leaving before he changes his mind. “Ask for Cherry when you come in, yeah?” she calls when he walks out.

You are just everywhere. You’re in his head and he doesn’t even know you. He needs to sleep, desperately, and part of him in the back of his mind hopes you’ll be there. When he wakes up, he doesn’t remember.

“Have you heard about the Church fundraiser coming up?” Julie asks. You shake your head. “It’s a pretty big deal here. Everyone participates.”

“What is it?” you ask, kicking off your slippers so you can sit crisscross on the couch.

“Bid-On-A-Basket,” she says casually, like it’s the most obvious thing.

“Never heard of it,” you reply, “It sounds fun. What is it?”

“All us single gals put together a picnic basket with everything for a lunch,” she explains, “and then all the eligible bachelors bid on the basket and a date with the girl who made it. Last year, the dreamiest guy, Bill Whittier, bought mine- it’s so fun. Me and Bill didn’t work out but it was a good time.”

“I don’t know anyone here,” you say hesitantly.

“Perfect way to get a date then,” she teases. You bite your lip. You aren’t sure about this.

“And what if some creep is the highest bidder?” you counter.

“You get a bad date story for your next date?” she poses. “Please,” she begs, “It’s for a good cause, all the money this year is going to help the Sunday school.”

“What if no one bids on it?” You rebut.

“Look at yourself,” she scoffs, “you’ll get bids. Trust me.” You roll your eyes.

“I’ll think about it,” you say finally. She smirks, completely planning to wear you down.

“Remember it’s for the kids,” she reasons, “It wouldn’t hurt to go and participate.”

“I said I’ll think about it,” you laugh.

Time passes and soon enough you get another call from Sandy, and you are suddenly back to taking care of Valerie. You had missed her, a lot actually. You definitely have gotten attached to her, and you think you’ve grown on her too. Sandy was vague this time for how long they’d be gone, but since the previous time went so smoothly, you didn’t worry about it.

About a week after Sandy and Carl left this time, there was another disturbing news report. You were sitting on the floor, changing Valerie and you had the television playing softly in the background. The news told the story of another body, this time found in the woods off of the highway. You finish changing the baby and hold her close, her little chin resting on your shoulder as you watch the news story. It was just like Julie had talked about. Another man, thirty years old. He was shot and his body abandoned. You jump at the knock at the front door.

You peep through the curtains, and you see the Sheriff waiting on the front porch. You wonder if he knows you’re there. Part of you almost wishes he knows it you here and he wanted to see you. It’s incredibly stupid on your part and you know better, but nonetheless, part of you hoped he came here for you. Very stupid. With Valerie on your hip, you open the door.

“I’m sorry, darling,” he says walking into the house. He stops in front of you and presses a kiss to Valerie’s forehead and she squeals happily seeing Lee. You close the door with your foot. “May I?” he asks, and opens his arms. You agree, based on Valerie’s reactions to him whenever she sees him. He takes her in his arms, and she starts playing with his tie. He loosens it so she can play with it and not choke him.

“What can I do for you, Sheriff?” you ask. He reacts in a way in a way you can’t really read, but you don’t press.

His mind just goes back to the woman a couple weeks back in the brothel who asked him the same thing, and that his mind immediately had gone to you. He just clears his throat and snaps himself out of that thought process.

“Um, I just came by to see Sandy,” he says, “But I can fathom a guess that she’s not here?”

“Excellent deduction,” you joke, and he smirks. Valerie has his tie in her mouth and is covering it in drool. He doesn’t even seem to care.

“Are you okay?” he asks, and you nod. “You looked a little scared when you answered.”

“Just watching the news before you showed up is all,” you explain, “They were talking about how there was another man found dead.”

“Ain’t got nothing to worry about,” he says, “We’re on top of it. I’m on my way over there now.”

“Can I ask you something?” you ask hesitantly.

“Of course, darling.”

“My friend, you probably know her- Julie Grady.”

“Yeah, nice kid,” he says, listening but gently pulling his tie from Valerie’s grasp. She starts playing with the flap of the pocket of his jacket.

Kid. You almost grimace. That’s right. Of course, Lee would view someone your age that way. You weren’t. You chastise yourself for even caring, but you decide to continue. You shouldn’t care how he sees you.

“Yeah- well, she told me there have been others,” you continue, “I also read up about it, just the newspapers at the library- but she said people thought it was some kind of serial killer… I just, I want to know what you think.”

“I don’t think know,” he answers honestly, a little taken aback, not expecting you to approach him with something this serious. “I doubt it,” he explains, “Serial killers stay close to home. Now those cases you read about, and these two we are looking at- they sound close together but logistically, they aren’t really. Two of those unsolved were in completely different states- just like this new one.”

“So, no traveling serial killer?” you chuckle, trying to sound lighthearted. He chuckles and shakes his head.

“Most people like that stay in one area,” Lee explains, “They work jobs, they have a home, you know? They tend to stay near where they live.”

“That makes me feel much better,” you answer honestly.

“You got nothing to worry about, and that’s a promise,” he grins, although he supposes coming from him that probably doesn’t mean much. Regardless, it makes you smile.

“Are you sure I can’t get you anything?” you offer again. He bites his lip, taking a moment to think.

“Sandy keeps a bag of candy in her cabinet,” he says, walking into the kitchen with you following close behind. He passes Valerie off to you and he chuckles under his breath at the state of his tie. He reaches up in the cabinet and pulls down a brown paper bag, filled with taffies and chocolates.

Something about this man who has a whole time scared of him playing with his niece and then stealing sweets from the cupboard is something you find so strangely endearing. He unwraps one of the brightly colored taffies and then puts the bag in his pocket.

“I gotta go,” he announces, “let me know if you hear from Sandy, yeah?”

“Of course,” you reply.

“Gonna head out to that scene, and do my report,” he discloses, not really sure why he’s telling you. “Then I have a meeting at the rectory about that fundraiser thing. Figure out security.”

“They need security at Bid-On-A-Basket?” you ask, with an eyebrow raised. He smiles.

“You going?” he asks, flirtatiously.

“Just seems weird to have police at a Church thing.”

“There’s been stupid fights,” he shrugs, “some guy will get outbid and cause a fuss. Nothing serious. Probably just gonna be me and a deputy in case. You going?”

“I don’t know, maybe,” you say sheepishly. “Why?”

He walks towards the front door, and you follow seeing him out.

“Cause I gotta know if I’ll be bidding on a basket,” he winks.

“You gonna start a fight if you don’t win it?” you joke.

“If it’s yours? Absolutely, darling.”

Taglist:

@adelaide-walker @thedepressolit @samanthadegaro @pyronack @greeneyedblondie44 @acciosiriusblack @weenersoldierr @teenagemutant @witchybarb @iraot @my-love-darling @hold-me-like-a-heart-beat @swiftieandthewintersoldier @letsfly-andbe-free @rebekahdawkins @stiles-stilinski-24-dylan @hersilencedscreams @unsaltedalmonds @dangerdolns @vintagepigeon @bluebouquetcupcake29 @goslytherin @captainofallfandoms @buckistan @aynanasstuff @everything-is-all-clear @rosalynshields @tinynshykitten

#lee bodecker #lee bodecker imagine #lee bodecker fic #lee bodecker x reader #lee bodecker x you #the devil all the time #sebastian stan characters #lee bodecker x y/n #lee bodecker x f!reader #lee bodecker smut #slow burn #mystery #lee bodecker oneshot

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teddy06writes · 3 years

Note

Can I request a Karl x Alex x Nick x Reader fic in which the reader is a teacher and they bring their boyfriends in for career day? I just thought it’d be so cute to see them interact with little kids.

sapnap x karl x quackity x reader

trigger warnings: none

premise: pretty much everything from the ask, although I know nothing about children so..., sorry lol

requested by the person above as well as @eliasxxk who asked for more karlnapity x reader

(y/n/n)- your nickname

(y/l/n)- your last name

-----------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------

“Career day?” Nick asked.

You nodded, quickly packing up the last of the assignments you had finished grading and tucking them into your bag, “Yeah, remember how I was planning the different stations and stuff for the kids?”

“Oh yeah, I thought you had all that stuff sorted?” Karl handed you your laptop from across the table.

“We did,” You sighed, “But someone backed out and now we have a slot to fill. So, one of you, all of you, I don’t care, we still need someone to do it.”

Alex frowned, “What would we have to do for that?”

You ran a hand through your hair, “Make a presentation on what you do? We were looking for a broad spectrum and the guy who backed out was someone’s cousin who did like, animation or something.”

As you gathered the rest of your things you explained that one group or person would be set up in each classroom, and that kids would rotate through, not just the fifth graders you taught, but the whole of the elementary school.

Karl grinned, “What time would we have to be there?”

“The welcome thing for the speakers is it 9 ish on Friday, so I can bring back the forms you’d need to fill out today to get them in on time.”

Your boyfriends agreed, and with a smile you pecked them all on the lips, “Alright, I gotta go. I’ll see you later.”

“Love you!” Karl called as you started out the door.

“Love you too!”

After practically zooming through your first three units, ELA, Math and History, and sending your kids off to PE, you headed down to the admin offices to make copies and grab the forms.

“Hey Sadie!” You greeted cheerfully.

The secretary smiled, “Hey mx. (y/l/n).”

You moved over to the copier, starting your copies, “Do you have any of those forms? For the people giving the presentations on career day?”

“You found someone?” Adam, the sixth grade teacher who had been organizing the career day asked as he entered the office.

“Three someones actually,” You smiled, “Alex, Karl and Nick said they could.”

“Oh, that’ll be interesting.” Sadie laughed.

“Minecraft youtubers,” Adam mused unenthusiastically, “I’m sure the kids will love to hear about people without real jobs.”

You rolled your eyes, “They pull just as much if not more than me every year, plus Nicky and Alex are still in college.”

Adam cocked an eyebrow as you grabbed your copies, and then the forms from Sadie, “Well at least I can’t complain, your saving my ass.”

“Damn right I am,” You scoffed starting out of the office, “You owe me.”

Heading back down the hall and then up the stairs to the fifth grade hallway you pulled out your phone, sending a text to the ‘loves <3′ group chat, ‘the files have been secured’

Back in your classroom you began to set out the Novels your class had been reading, and set up the last of the things you would need for the mini science lab that would happen later in the after noon.

~~ The next few days passed quickly, and soon you were pointing your boyfriends in the direction of the library, where the volunteers were supposed to be meeting before heading up to your classroom, greeting the kids who were already inside.

“Hey guys! Are you excited for today?”

A few kids nodded.

“Which presentation are you most excited to see?”

“Probably the actor!” Damien exclaimed.

“The actor? Any reason why or you just think they’d be cool?”

“I wanna be an actor.” He said.

“Yeah?” You chuckled, “What about you Sam?”

The girl through for a moment, tapping at her desk absently, “Probably the firefighter, I want to save people like them some day.”

You nodded, “Calum? Any your excited for?”

“Well I was excited to Ricky, he’s my cousin and an animator but he couldn’t come.” The boy pouted.

“Aw, well I’m sorry about that, but I’m sure there’ll be plenty of interesting people for you to see.” You looked over the schedule again, answering a messege from Adam, willingly surrendering yourself to running around and helping wherever needed during the day, instead of watching the presentations with your kids.

The morning announcements came and went, and the teaching aid who would be taking your place, touring the kids around came in, “Alright guys! We’r~~e going down to the auditorium so that the principal and Mr. Alderton can explain the plan for today, and so that the people who are going to be in these rooms have time to set up!”

She herded the kids out of the room, smiling at you as you grabbed your phone, following them out, but turning down a different hall to the library.

Adam breathed a sigh of relief as soon as you got inside, “Oh thank god! Okay, I need you to get these lovely people to there rooms, Adda is already going around to set up projectors.”

You nodded, taking the papers from him, “Okay people! If you’d follow me, we’ll get you into these classrooms on time!”

The group of various adults followed you out of the library as you started calling out names at each floor, in between the intersection of grade level hallways, pointing out room numbers.

By the time you had made it to the cross roads between the fifth and sixth grade, Adam was already frantically messaging you about being late so quickly you called out the last of the room numbers, pointing various directions and telling the people to let themselves in.

You turned to your boyfriends, “Right you guys are in my room, it’s at the end of the hall, my computer should be unlocked.”

“You’re not like, staying to hang out or anything?” Karl asked.

“I’ve been roped into over seeing this thing. I might be in and out at various times through out the day,” You pressed a kiss to each of there cheeks before starting back towards the stairs, “Have fun!”

You spent your day running around, delivering different things to various classrooms and basically doing Adam’s bidding.

A little way into the last rotation of kids around the building you finally got the chance to take a break and head back up to your room, slipping in and sitting in the back as Karl tried his best to explain streaming to a group of kindergarteners.

They may not have fully understood what he was talking about, but they sure did find him funny.

You watched quietly as your boyfriends interacted with the kids, opening up for questions sooner than they had with the older kids, and patently answering each one.

“What are you going to college to learn how to do?” A young girl asked.

Alex smiled, “Well I’m going to get real smart to be a lawyer, and Mr. Sapnap here is learning about computers.”

“What’s a lawyer?” Another kid asked.

“My uncle’s a lawyer,” someone two desks away offered, “My mom says it’s someone who works in a court!”

Alex chuckled, “You are absolutely right Big Man, lawyers defend people who go to court.”

“If you and you are goin to college,” A boy near the front pointed at Nick and then Alex, “Then what’s he learning at college?” He pointed at Karl.

“Karl isn’t in college anymore.” Nick said simply.

“Not honking smart enough.” Karl grinned as kids laughed at his use of the word honk.

They continued to joke around for a while, until the pa crackled that it was time for everyone to head back to there normal classrooms, and you moved back to the front of the room, “That was entertaining.”

“(y/n/n)! This was awesome!” Karl exclaimed.

You nodded, glancing at the clock as you began to re arrange your desk, “Theres like, maybe ten minutes to the bell, you guys want to hang out in here?”

“Sure.” Your class began to file back in as Alex spoke.

“Mx. (y/l/n)! Why didn’t you tell us you were dating famous youtubers?” Damien asked.

You groaned, looking at a shrugging Nick, “Why have you done this?”

You class laughed at your displeasure, and you were about to start asking everyone how there days had gone when Karl beat you too it.

“Who was your favorite?”

“It better have been us!” Alex stage whispered.

The kids laughed, and you sat back, content to watch your boyfriends entertain the class.

#mcyt x reader #sapnap x reader #karl jacobs x reader #quackity x reader #sapnap x karl x quackity x reader #karlnapity #karlnapity x reader #teddy06 writes

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invisibleanonymousmonsters · 3 years

Text

All Men Have Limits - III

Character: Dick Grayson x Reader x Bruce Wayne

Summary: A certain bat believes that Y/N is in way over her head, that she’s too naive to act in her best interest. So, whether she wants it or not, the vigilante family is going to help and protect her before she gets herself killed.

Word Count: 3,500+

Previously on…

Bruce was having yet another night without sleep. It happened often. And similar to the rest of the family, he just learned to function on very few hours of sleep.

So, he decided to make his way down to the kitchen.

But as he walked down the long hallway of bedrooms, he noticed that Y/N’s door was open. He glanced inside to see that it was empty and her bed was still neatly made from this morning.

He looked down at this watch to see that it was almost 5AM.

A part of Bruce expected to find Y/N snacking or drinking coffee. But she wasn’t in the kitchen either.

Bruce sighed, realizing where she’d be and made his way down to the cave.

He expected to find Y/N with her eyes bloodshot and shoulders hunched over at the computers.

What he didn’t expect was to find Y/N passed out, slouched in the chair, knees in her chest and head balanced on the palm of her hand. How her elbow stayed propped up on the arm of the chair was beyond Bruce.

He smirked at the sight.

Perhaps she’d been spending too much time around the Wayne family. She was starting to adopt their bad habit of exhausting themselves.

Bruce knew she would be irritated if he moved her. But, honestly, he didn’t really care.

Carefully, Bruce slipped his arms behind her back – separating her from the chair – and then behind her knees, slowly lifting her into his arms.

Even though the movement was extremely smooth, Y/N still stirred.

“I was just taking a cat nap,” Y/N mumbled, but couldn’t even open her eyes to make the argument compelling. “I’m still working.”

“No, you’re not. Time to get some sleep.”

“Mmmm. Fine,” she slurred and tucked her head into his neck.

Bruce wasn’t sure if her mind even put together that it was him carrying her.

But he savored the closeness as he carried her out of the cave and up the stairs to the second floor of the manor.

When they got to her bedroom, Bruce put her down on the bed so softly, that she didn’t even feel it. Then he bent down to take off her shoes and unfolded the covers to tuck her in.

Just as Bruce reached the door.

Y/N woke up slightly and muttered, “Night, Bruce.”

His hand froze on the doorknob. It was so quiet that he wasn’t even sure if he had imagined it. But he couldn’t find the courage to turn and face her.

So he shut the door and let her sleep.

————

“Where’s Y/L/N?” Damian asked the table.

She usually ate breakfast with them.

“Still sleeping,” Bruce answered without looking up from the newspaper. “No one bother her today. She needs to rest,” that made him look up and give a warning look to Tim, Damian, and Dick.

Then Jason came stomping into the kitchen.

He grabbed a pastry and ate it standing up, getting crumbs all over the floor.

“Where’s ladylove?” He asked with his mouth so full that he looked like a chipmunk.

Bruce ignored him and looked back down at the paper.

But Dick frowned at him. “Don’t call her that.”

“What do you care?” Jason laughed.

Dick didn’t dignify the question with an answer. He just thrust his chair back and shoved Jason’s shoulder as he stormed past him.

“What’s his fucking deal?” Jason asked once he was out of ear shot.

“Watch your language,” Bruce warned with a glare from behind his paper.

Jason exhaled a laugh. “I’m not a kid. I also don’t live under your roof anymore.”

“And I consider that a gift,” Damian muttered loud enough for everyone to hear.

Jason smacked the back of his head.

Damian flew out of his seat and lunged for him. “I will end you, Todd!”

“Maybe when you hit puberty, demon spawn.”

“Damian!” Bruce shouted to get his son’s attention. His son snapped to attention. But then Bruce’s tone was eerily calm when he continued with, “Control your anger.”

It was something they’d been working on since Damian arrived at the manor. Bruce guessed that Damian would always have a temper. But he needed to learn how to control it. Through time and practice, he got better.

Damian took in a deep breath, but still looked like he wanted to murder Jason.

“I will be training,” Damian announced through an irritated sigh before leaving.

Bruce glared at Jason. “Don’t push him.”

“He started it.”

“You claim you’re not a kid, so don’t act like one.”

“Speaking of kids…” Jason started with a smile.

Bruce swiftly stood up. “Don’t even try.”

Then he was gone as well, leaving just Jason and Tim.

“Well, it appears everyone is in a rather bad mood this morning,” Jason joked.

But there was no response from Tim.

“Are you sleeping with your eyes open?!?” Jason yelled.

That woke up Tim and he jumped. “Huh? What?”

————

Y/N would’ve slept the whole day if she hadn’t smelled the coffee and breakfast.

She winced as she woke up to see if her mind was playing tricks on her.

But on top of her nightstand sat a beautiful, antique tray with a full American breakfast on it, a cup of water, a giant mug of coffee, and a little vase with a tiny flower in it – a single, pink peonie.

Y/N rubbed her eyes awake with a shy smile.

Alfred was way sneakier than she realized if he could bring in a full tray like this and not even wake her up. She must be far more exhausted than she originally thought.

But then a piece of paper caught her eye. A note.

Y/N reached for it.

In the neatest handwriting Y/N had ever seen, she read:

“Perhaps you should take the day to relax. I apologize for my behavior last night.”

Y/N snorted at the word ‘behavior.’ Everything he had done last night was passive. It was more of an energy and tension than actual behavior. But Y/N had to give him credit for being aware of it. He had annoyed her last night, especially when Dick somehow took the fall for her own actions regarding her own life.

She ate the food at a disturbingly fast rate, not realizing how starved she’d felt until taking the first bite.

She would definitely miss Alfred’s cooking when she finally left Wayne Manor… whenever the hell that would be.

Y/N hoped it was sooner rather than later.

‘No, you don’t. Liar.’ A voice said inside her head.

Once Y/N had finished eating at light speed, she threw on a pair of baggy jeans and a cropped sweatshirt. She grabbed her coffee and carried it through the hallway.

She heard typing coming from Bruce’s office. He hadn’t used the room since she starting stay at the manor. So, her curiosity got the best of her and she leaned into the doorframe.

Bruce was wearing a navy polo that fit tight on his toned body. He was behind the desk, typing on the computer with his brow folded in concentration.

He immediately noticed her presence and looked up from his work.

“Hi,” she said shyly before she leaned her back into the doorframe and took a sip of coffee.

“Hi,” he smiled back.

“Thank you for the breakfast.”

Bruce leaned back in the chair and crossed his arms. “I can’t take credit for the actual cooking,” he admitted with a smirk.

“Oh, I know.” Then she looked around the study. “I was on my way to the cave when I heard you in here.”

Bruce frowned at that. “I thought you were going to take the day off.”

“I think you thought I was taking the day off.” Then she raised an eyebrow and glanced at all the work spread out on his desk. “Maybe you should take a break.”

“This is Wayne Enterprises, not my…nighttime…activities.”

Y/N shrugged and sipped more coffee. “Still work.”

Bruce rubbed his face. “Guess so.”

“I’ll make you a deal,” Y/N walked into the room and didn’t break eye contact. “If you take the day off, so will I.”

She expected Bruce to immediately shoot down her offer.

But he was smirking as he considered her proposition.

“Deal,” he told her before standing up and walking out from behind the desk.

He got unnecessarily close, invading her space.

Bruce held out his hand.

Y/N grinned at the formal gesture, but shook his hand.

But when their hands gripped together, the gesture no longer felt formal. It felt intimate. Y/N’s grin fell when she acknowledged it.

“What did you have in mind?” Bruce asked. He put his hands in the pockets of his slacks.

If he felt the same intimacy as she had, he didn’t show it.

Y/N cleared her throat. “How about something simple? Maybe a walk?”

Bruce nodded slowly. “A walk sounds good.”

“Well, then what are we waiting for?” Y/N sassed.

He shook his head and almost rolled his eyes before gesturing to the door, silently telling her to go first.

Next thing Y/N knew, she was getting an informal tour of the grounds at Wayne Manor from the owner himself.

Y/N listened closely, genuinely finding all the history interesting. Bruce was surprisingly a good storyteller – even if he was more informative than colorful.

“I know you had a hard childhood. But it still must’ve been nice growing up in a place like this,” Y/N tried to tell him.

“I suppose so.”

He glanced at Y/N and found her giving him an encouraging look, as if she was silently begging him to say more, to share more.

But he left it at that.

“Damian is rather fond of animals. That’s why we updated the old outbuilding. He keeps his horses there…amongst other things.”

Y/N chuckled and nodded, “He was telling me about Batcow the other day.”

“I’m sure he wouldn’t appreciate me telling you this, but I think Damian has enjoyed having you around – all the boys have.”

Y/N hummed and turned to fully face Bruce. “And what about you? Have you enjoyed having me around?”

“Wayne Manor is the safest place for you right now.”

“That’s not what I asked, Bruce.”

But he already knew that.

Y/N waited. Because she wasn’t going to let him ignore her question.

“Dick has taken quite a liking to you,” Bruce said quietly.

“Don’t change the subject,” Y/N snapped.

He opened his mouth to continue, but she cut him off.

“We’re not talking about me and Dick. We’re talking about me and you.”

Bruce’s jaw tightened.

Y/n took a step closer to him. “Why did you kiss me the other night?”

He tilted his head to the side. “Did you not want me to?”

“What does it matter?” Y/N sighed and ran a hand through her hair. “I want to know what you’re thinking. I thought I put up walls. But you give me nothing, Bruce. Absolutely nothing. One second I think you see me as a nuisance, then the next you’re fucking kissing me.”

“You’re not a nuisance.”

“Oh, he speaks!” Y/N threw up her arms.

“What do you want me to say, Y/N?” He asked evenly.

Always calm and collected. Overly polite. Controlled. Closed off.

“Forget it,” Y/N breathed and started walking back to the manor.

But after she was a few yards away, she realized she wanted to say one last thing and turned back around.

“Not that it matters. But I did. I did want you to kiss me.”

“Then why did you run away?” Bruce asked.

“Because I knew you would do it eventually. And I was trying to protect myself.”

So much for a “day off.” When Y/N was upset, she turned to her work to take her mind off of things. Was it denial? Was it displacement? She didn’t like to dwell on it. And most of the time, there was no one in her life to call her out for it.

Y/N thought she was emotionally distant, but Bruce won that race by a landslide. And she found it infuriating.

It was interactions like the one she just had that made Y/N think everything Dick tried to tell her about how Bruce saw her was utter bullshit.

Y/N arrived to the cave with an energy she was definitely not expecting.

Damian and Dick were training on the lower level while Tim and Jason observed from the sides.

Y/N had seen footage of each of them fighting before. It was one of the research pieces she’d watched while investigating them before figuring out their identities. But seeing it in person was a completely different experience.

Dick was using his escrima sticks, while Damian had his katana.

Jason noticed her arrival and made his way over with a smirk.

“Was wondering when you’d wake up,” he greeted.

“Please tell me that’s a sword for training and not an actual blade,” Y/N asked nervously while her eyes followed the two dancing around each other. She could even hear the blade slicing through the air.

“Don’t worry. They won’t seriously hurt each other.” He had a little side smirk. “Especially since Dick is Damian’s favorite.”

Y/N looked at Jason. “I always assumed Bruce was his favorite.”

He shrugged. “Dick’s been a father to Damian far more than Bruce ever has.”

She didn’t have anything to say to that. It caught her by surprise a bit.

“Can you fight?” Jason asked her.

Her eyes widened. “No. I don’t know how to do…anything. I did one of those boxing workout classes. I hated it. All the instructors are male models, and that’s their side hustle.”

“I can assure you that was not boxing,” Jason laughed. “Why haven’t asked one of us?”

Y/N shrugged. “Seems like a waste of your time.”

“No, it sounds like a fun time,” Jason corrected.

She laughed at that.

They both watched the two again.

A few moments went by before Y/N quietly added, “I have a gun. I don’t really know how to use it. But I thought it was necessary with my…line of work.”

Jason nodded slowly. “These pansies have a certain aversion to guns.” He looked down at her. “If you need me to show you a few basics, let me know.”

Y/N quickly looked at him. “T-Thank you.”

He laughed. “Don’t look so surprised.”

Jason Todd may have been labeled an anti-hero or even a criminal at one point. But deep down, he was still a Wayne. And even though he had the reputation of the bad boy, they all knew he was a sweetheart deep down. However, Y/N was now just seeing it.

Y/N jumped when Damian was slammed to the ground.

“Jesus,” she hissed.

“He’s fine,” Jason insisted.

But then he leaned closer and started pointing out certain moves to her.

“With Dick’s gymnastics background, he incorporates a lot more acrobatics and moves that require more flexibility. He’s good at improvisation. He also leans more toward taekwondo. But with his escrima sticks, he also uses arnis.”

He looked down to make sure he wasn’t boring Y/N before he continued.

“He almost moves like a dancer,” she thought aloud, proving she was interested and engaged.

“Exactly,” he nodded. “Whereas Damian is still a kid. It’s less about power and more about agility. Before he got here, he was trained to kill. He’s mastered the sword better than any of us – but don’t tell him I said that. Damian’s had to adjust his technique and turn it non-lethal.” He smirked, “Just think devil ninja and that pretty much sums it up.”

Y/N laughed.

“And Tim?” She asked.

“Tim leans towards Kobudo, which is an ancient style developed by the Japanese. He prefers to use a battle staff. He’s smaller, so his technique is very calculated and controlled. Every move he makes counts for something. He’s extremely observant and can read his opponents like a book. Dick tries to create his openings, while Tim waits for the exact right moment.”

“Smart,” Y/N commented.

Jason nodded in agreement.

She turned back to him. “And you? What’s your style?”

“Brutal,” a voice said behind them.

Y/N whipped around to see Bruce standing behind them with his arms crossed. He’d changed, and was now wearing a tank top and sweatpants. Clearly he came down with the intention to train as well.

Jason didn’t seem surprised nor did he acknowledge him, meaning he probably knew the moment Bruce had arrived. He just didn’t care to notice him outwardly.

“Wing chun. Heavy-weight boxing. Krav Maga,” Bruce continued as if he was just listing of stats. “Angry…” he shrugged, “sometimes reckless.”

Jason scoffed at that.

“And he can’t seem to get over his complex for guns,” Bruce finished.

Jason turned to him. He was just an inch or so taller than Bruce. But he looked like he was twice the width and his muscles were somehow even bigger.

“Should we give her a show, B?” Jason offered with amusement.

“We’re not a spectacle, Jason.”

Jason looked down to Y/N. “Such a party pooper this one.”

She smirked at his sass. Bruce was not in her good graces right now, so she would support any and all mocking of him.

Y/N hadn’t even looked at Bruce since he arrived. And now she was choosing it as a perfect time to finally make her way to her computers and away from him.

Jason didn’t miss the cold shoulder. “What did you do to piss off yet another woman?”

Bruce glared at him, and walked down to the training area with the boys.

Jason followed after him.

He looked back and forth between Bruce and up at Y/N, a plan developing in his head.

“$100 bucks Bruce can lay out Dick in two minutes,” Jason said loud enough that Y/N could hear him.

Tim and Damian shared a smirk.

Bruce and Dick glared at him.

“I’m not betting against that,” Damian announced.

Tim smiled. “But I will.”

Dick shook his head in submission, “Fine.”

Bruce needed the practice, even though he was aware Jason had ulterior motives with his request. So he just gave Dick a look of consent.

Y/N tried to ignore what was happening, even though Jason made it very clear for her. She heard the sound of fists and feet hitting skin. He heard their grunts of pain and exertion.

It wasn’t until she heard Dick torment Bruce with, “Come on, old man,” that Y/N couldn’t help but turn to watch them below the platform she worked on.

Dick’s teasing worked, but not in his favor.

Bruce no longer took it easy on him. Maybe that’s what Dick wanted, but he was now on the defense.

They were fighting hand to hand. No escrima sticks or gadgets. Just hand-to-hand combat.

Y/N could tell the that Dick was starting to get frustrated.

Bruce, however, seemed completely calm. He knew all of the boys’ fighting styles and taught them the majority of what they knew. There was a part of Bruce in all of them. It almost made for an unfair fight.

Their movements got faster and faster. Y/N was struggling to figure out what was even happening anymore.

But just when she was about to give up her observing and get back to work, Bruce managed to get a proper grip on Dick and flipped him over his shoulder.

Dick landed on his back hard. So hard, that Y/N heard the smack and the sound alone made her feel sick.

Y/N gasped, and put a hand in her mouth when the sound came out louder than she expected.

Jason, Tim, Damian, and even Dick glanced up at her.

But Bruce was staring down at his opponent.

“Your weight placement was off and you know how to get out of that hold,” Bruce lectured. “You know better.”

Dick glared up at him.

Bruce offered him a hand up, but Dick ignored it.

“I know,” Dick growled as he got to his feet.

“You’re letting yourself get frustrated. It’s causing your mistakes.”

“I said I know,” Dick snapped louder this time.

Before an argument could really start, Alfred made his presence known by clearing his throat.

All the boys looked up at him, as well.

“What is it?” Bruce asked.

“I was rather certain you’d forgotten. Seems I was right.” Alfred cleared his throat. “I came to remind you all that the annual gala for the Martha Foundation is tomorrow night at the manor.”

“Can’t we reschedule it,” Damian whined.

Bruce shook his head. “The Court of Owls is made of Gotham’s elite – many of who are invited. If we cancel, it will cause suspicion.”

“You can’t honestly think we should risk that with Y/N being here,” Dick called out, gesturing up towards Y/N.

Bruce and Dick had a silent conversation.

Y/N knew it was about her, so she did not appreciate being excluded.

“Oh, wow. Looks like one of my safe houses is finally more secure than this place,” Y/N spoke up melodramatically.

But she should’ve known it wasn’t going to be that easy to escape.

--------------------------------------

Next chapter is gonna be fun, guys. 😈 But let me know what you thought of this one.

#all men have limits #all men have limits part 3 #dick grayson x reader #dick grayson reader insert #nightwing #nightwing x reader #bruce wayne x reader #bruce wayne reader insert #batman #batman x reader #batfam #batboys #dick grayson x reader x bruce wayne #bruce wayne x reader x dick grayson

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beyondspaceandstars · 3 years

Text

Take Me Away

Relationship: Wanda Maximoff x Reader Warnings: slight angst, eventual fluff Summary: Royalty!AU - You and your lady-in-waiting Wanda have been in a secret, forbidden relationship but everything gets tested when your father, the King, announces you are to be wed to a prince from a neighboring country. A/N: i’ve been loving royalty!au stuff lately and wanted to take my own stab at it. it’s not the most complicated, spectacular piece but i enjoyed writing it!

Masterlist

Wanda always arrived to your chambers right at the crack of dawn. Ever the punctual one, your lady-in-waiting never wasted a second once that bright light of a new day came through the windows. Sometimes she was even tasked with waking you up, ranting and raving about how your gown was going to take forever to lace up or that your hair wasn’t going to be dry enough to meet your family for breakfast.

Her frantic attitude always made you laugh. You thought her worrying heart was so silly and to show for it, you’d sometimes make it a point to shut her up with a kiss. One thing would lead to another until you two were lost among the silk sheets.

That all, though, had come to a stop today. Wanda was late this morning and you sadly knew why. Her heart must’ve been breaking, taking all her energy to pick up the pieces one by one this morning. You didn’t blame her, really, you felt the same break within you.

It had all fallen out last night. Your father, the usually benevolent King, had held a feast for your court and the royal family of a neighboring country. This wasn’t unusual for him as he very much loved to entertain. Everything had been going smooth. You were lost in the dancing and laughing with the patron, eagerly showing off the brand new dress your tailor had delivered that morning. You even got to sneak some cheeky glances at Wanda who stood off with the other servants, ready when needed.

Everything came to a screeching halt the second dinner had concluded. In between the refills of wine and arrival of dessert, your father had a surprise announcement to. It was as if a million bombs were going off. He revealed you were set to be married to the bordering country’s Prince. No one had told you, not even a hint from your mother, just this public declaration. You looked towards the king and his son — your soon-to-be-husband — and they were just beaming with joy. All plans and politics were falling into place for them while your world was crumbling.

You had excused yourself to the bathroom where you vomited profusely. Wanda, though, didn’t arrive to help. In fact, she didn’t arrive to your room for the rest of the night, sending one of the temporary servants instead.

You fell asleep feeling the loneliest you had felt in a long time. And those feelings certainly weren’t subsiding as you sat at your vanity the next morning, still waiting for Wanda.

You had been sitting alone for so long you thought she had abandoned her duties — or maybe she had just straight up retired last night and you were waiting on nothing — but then there was the unmistakable sound of your heavy door creaking open followed the gentle clicking of it closing. You peered into your looking glass, shifting it so slightly to show you the presence behind you.

"Wanda," you sighed, her naming falling from your lips as if it was the sweetest honey.

"Your Highness." While unsurprising, her cold and stoic response cut you. Your body tensed. Last time she had called you that was upon your very first meeting. Before she was the lover you kept in the shadows. Before there was ever a chance of losing her. The royal title felt like a death sentence now.

After a deep breath, you slowly placed the looking glass back on the table. You felt Wanda approach you from behind with caution. You didn’t know whether to turn around or ask her to begin her morning duties. If you were to be really honest with yourself, you just wanted to grab her and hold one another.

But Wanda seemed to have decided for the both of you. Hesitantly, she reached for the brush on the vanity and gently began on your hair. You wanted to cry.

"Wanda, please," you mumbled. "Talk to me."

"Talk to you?" She repeated, her fingers now running through your hair giving slight pulls as she fixed the curls. The actions reminded you of when she would… "And what would you like me to say?"

"Something, anything!" You were nearly crying, your words coming out in weak begs. "I didn’t know anything about it, you have to trust me on that. I—I don’t want… I could never—,"

"Never, what?" Wanda cut you off, the brushing motions in your hair suddenly halted. "You couldn’t possibly think we could ever be together fully. I’ll admit, I indulged in this fantasies but I’ve stopped. We weren’t meant to be and you sure weren’t meant to be a single princess forever." She cleared her throat. "This was bound to happen, I fear."

"No, no," you fought back, shaking your head insistently. Wanda placed a hand on your shoulder, trying to calm you down, but you only jumped at the touch, feeling that burning connection between you two. You couldn’t believe how much hold she had over you. How much you had over one another.

"Your Highness, I’m afraid—,"

"We can run away." The words slipped out of you so fast you never had a chance to bite your tongue. It felt like the world stopped, like you had created your own bomb to set off. Wanda’s grip on your shoulder got tighter. You straightened your posture, meaning business now despite the tears still flowing. You placed your hand atop of hers and continued, "I really think we could do it, dear. I can access the family funds, we could pack a few things, then be off in the night. Wouldn’t that just be nice? We could go wherever, start whatever life we want. You’re not wrong to say this was bound to happen but that doesn’t mean we can’t escape it."

"My Lady… There must be some consideration for the prince, the kingdoms, your subjects—,"

"They’re better to have no ruler than one who lives in constant agony."

The declaration was bold but it was the farthest from a lie. You decided to finally turn and face Wanda, your hand now holding hers with the greatest, most loving strength. The first thing you noticed were her eyes. They were so red and heavy, no doubt from hours of crying. Her hair was a mess as well, complimented by the worn down servants gown she wore. She hadn’t put any effort in today, probably dragging herself about as you predicted.

Slowly, you pressed a soft kiss to the back of her hand. Wanda let out a breathy gasp. When you met her eyes again, it appeared the deal had been sealed. But you needed her to say it.

"We can really do this, can’t we?" She asked shyly.

You nodded, a little grin playing at your lips. "I think we could go anywhere," you confirmed. "Maybe we can start a farm, raise some chickens or cows. Or — Oh! We could start a nice garden. I loved the one here but father wouldn’t let me learn how to care for it."

Wanda sighed as she watched you get lost in a new fantasy, one way beyond just being together but having a life. "Speaking of your father, he will send people after us, won’t he? The palace guards will die trying to find us if they have to."

You simply shrugged. Sure, she wasn’t wrong, but this was a big place and who knew what bigger places were out there. "Let them," you finally said. "We’ll be so far long gone before they realize it they won’t know what hit them."

Silence fell between you two.

"You’re going to give up all this for a chance for us to be together?" Wanda finally asked, motioning towards the gloriousness of the castle chamber. She was a very thorough one, extremely detailed-oriented, which made her the best partner-in-crime you had decided before ever engaging romantically. Eventually, it was one of the things that made you fall head over heals. She noticed everything, always the sweet and cool observer. You didn’t blame her for using the skill now.

"Wanda, dear," you sighed as your hand crept its way to her neck. "I’d give it all up a million times over to be with you."

Your sweet lover looked like she was now going to cry so you took the leap to lean up, catching her lips with yours. After a stunned moment, she returned the kiss, your lips moving in a familiar sync. It was electrifying knowing you hadn’t lost her. Knowing she was most likely going to be it for you, forever. Completely devoted to one another, comfortably and freely.

Wanda’s hand begin caressing your cheek when she pulled away slightly. Your foreheads were touching now but it still wasn’t close enough for you.

"Let’s do it," she whispered. "Take me away."

Words seemed so hard, something only the presence of Wanda could do to you. Unable to figure what was right to say now, of all times, you nodded and wrapped one arm around her waist. You pulled her into you, hugging her with all your might. She didn’t hesitate to return the embrace, soaking each other in.

"Of course, dear," you eventually said. Such small words they held the mysterious beginning and marked the glorious end.

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literaila · 4 years

Text

sweet sweet relief

spencer reid x reader

request: do a Reidxreader where the reader is hotch’s younger sibling? They’d be new to the bau and hotch is over protective and reluctant to let them do anything. Due to their young age they get super close to Reid, maybe fluffy or angsty? Thank you!

Warning: angsty (kinda), BAU stuff...

The first time Y/N had met the team they could barely tell the two of them were related.

They were nothing alike.

It wasn't even just outside appearances, they were different, in character, in shape, in every form possible.

Aaron Hotchner was calm and quiet, he was known to be stern and sophisticated, he worked actively to stay in control. He was cautious and careful. He was the epitome of undisturbed.

Y/N Hotchner was not.

She was feisty and stubborn, and she would rather argue with someone than submit to them, and she was lively and sarcastic and known to be impatient.

There were barely any similarities between the two.

But they were both smart, and they both had a mindset for justice, both believe that everyone deserves a chance to prove themselves, that everyone had a right to feel safe in their world. They both believed that by removing just a little bit of the darkness within the world, just a little bit, it would make everything brighter.

But besides that, they were two completely different people.

It was a surprise to everyone that they were related.

That two people so completely different could share the same DNA.

So when Y/N walked into the conference room, a little later than Hotch had requested, all of his team members shared confused glances at the smirk Hotch had on his face, at the almost-hug he had given this girl.

She looked far too young to be his girlfriend.

Hotch turned around to 6 pairs of confused eyes, 6 people with questions, 6 people who looked very very intimidating to Y/N.

She’d heard all about Aaron's team, she’d heard about the lovely technical analysis, the eldest profiler who had a kick for jokes, she’d heard about Derek, the strongest member of the team, she’d heard about Emily and her history in crime, JJ who’d been the top in her class, and the genius who was only 3 years older than her.

She’d heard about all of them.

That didn't mean she was any less nervous to meet them.

And with the way they were looking at her like they already wished she was gone, her nerves shot through her body.

She couldn't help but turn to her brother, her eyes cast downward, and hope that he knew she needed help. Hoped that he knew her just enough to know when she was nervous.

“This is Agent Y/N Hotch. Strauss assigned her as a new addition to our team.”

There was more collective confusion around the room.

“Hotch?” Morgan asked, Y/N looked up at him, to see him frowning at her, she wondered why he cared that much, wondered why he was bothered by her, why he looked like he could tell exactly what she was thinking.

“Yes.” she answered back quickly, and sternly, like she was telling him as a favor, “Aaron is my brother.”

There was a gasp from across the room.

A blonde woman, with bizarre earrings and questionable clothes, walked over to Y/N, a wide smile on her face as she looked at Hotch with hopeful eyes.

“Sister?” she asked, almost like she was being given a gift Y/N thought.

Hotch only nodded.

Her smile got wider.

She embraced Y/N, pulling her into a quick hug like they’d known each other forever. Y/N felt some nerves escape her at the hug, at least one person didn't hate her already.

“Hotch didn't tell me he had a sister, it makes sense though, you’re so pretty.” She pulled back to smile at Y/N, she had bright energy, one that reminded Y/N of a friend back home, her smile was contagious.

“Y/N, this is Penelope Garica, the technical analyst I told you about.”

“It's lovely to meet you.” Y/N said laughing, as Penelope pulled her into another hug, she already had a special place in her heart for the blonde.

“You have a sister?” Derek asked, and Y/N looked over Penelope’s shoulder to see his face much more relaxed, less threatening, she immediately placed him as the man Aaron had told her about, the strong one.

“Yes, I do. I never told anyone for security reasons, and there's never been a need to bring it up.” Hotch looked at his little sister with pride, he was glad she was there, glad he was going to get to spend some more time with her, glad she had made it so far so early in her career.

“Plus, he didn't want to brag.” Y/N teased, making eye contact with Derek as a way to say she didn't mean any harm, as a way to let him know she wasn't going to be a problem.

He smiled at her. She smiled back.

“I’m Derek Morgan.”

After that, three other people came up to her, with warm smiles, all introducing themselves, JJ who seemed warm and paternal. Emily, who looked to Y/N like a rebel at heart, she smiled a little extra at that. And Rossi, who immediately told her she was a part of the family, “Any family member of Aaron’s is a family member of ours.”

It felt strange to be accepted by all of them so quickly, strange to feel so comfortable so quickly.

And then she was introduced to Spencer.

It took her heart a moment to force her to move.

She’d heard about Spencer, the man who was closest to her age, the smartest man Aaron had said he’d ever met, the Doctor with three PhDs.

He was utterly attractive.

Nerves shot up and down her body, reminding her of the fear she had prepared herself for, though this time it was a different type of fear.

She had not prepared for soft brown eyes and messy hair.

She had not prepared for him to be anything like he was.

Fuck.

He was exactly her type.

She shyly smiled at him, and he waved, just waved, unlike the handshakes she had gotten from everyone else, something in her mind was telling her not to question it.

With a blush on her cheeks she looked away, she looked away and reminded herself that she was there to work, that her boss was her brother, that even if she did immediately want to know everything about the doctor only ten feet away from her, that this was work.

She stayed silent for a couple of moments.

Her brother announced it was time to get started on the case.

***

It had taken a couple of weeks to get used to the job.

Aaron had warned her as much.

“Are you sure you want to do this?” he’d asked as soon as she’d announced she was moving out to Virginia, moving to work with the FBI. Y/N had taken it as judgment, she thought he didn't think she could do the job, didn't think she was strong enough, didn't think she was mature enough to handle the BAU.

She’d immediately run to her own defense, “I’ve been sure for almost 3 years Aaron.”

“No, Y/N, I didn't mean it like that. It's just… this job takes a toll on a person. Are you sure you want to do it?”

There hadn't been a doubt in her mind, had not been a moment of hesitation, a moment of wondering if she was really strong enough, if she really dared to do what her brother did every day, there was never a question of if she thought she could do it.

It hadn't even taken her a moment to answer yes.

But, this time, Aaron had been right.

Seeing dead bodies, learning about different methods of insanity, diving into the mind of people who were sadistic, not saving everyone. It was all heartbreaking.

And exhausting.

Y/N was starting to understand what her brother had meant, what he was thinking of when he said it took a toll on people, she was starting to wonder how he dealt with it, how he went every day being the boss and not breaking down while dealing with what they dealt with.

She was starting to wonder how they all dealt with it.

Most days, none of them seemed bothered, none of them seemed to mind any of it. She tried to remind herself that they had all been doing it a lot longer than she had, that they had seen everything a million times, that they had gone through the worst things she could imagine. It didn't help her feel any better.

She wasn't going to quit though, she could feel it in her blood, in her heart, that she was doing the right thing. That this is what she was meant to do, that no matter how many people died, no matter how many terrible people there were, she was saving someone's life.

And she was good at it.

She kept her head held high and tried not to show any hesitancy.

The night right after the case, one that had been particularly different from the others she’d seen, she felt practically dead on her feet. She wondered if she’d have to get used to the constant sleep deprivation.

It was late that night when she overheard Spencer talking to JJ, who looked about five seconds away from becoming the next unsub.

Y/N laughed behind them and wondered what he was talking about.

In the 6 weeks she’d been there she’d gotten close to most of them, she’d learned about their lives, about the way they worked best, she learned how smart they all were, how amazed she was by them. But she hadn't gotten the chance to speak that might to Spencer.

Maybe she didn't want to.

Maybe she didn't want to feel herself slip under the coworker crush that she was familiar with, maybe she didn't want to learn about him, things about him that she would think about constantly, maybe she didn't want to get close to him in fear that someone might notice how taken back she was by him, maybe she didn't want her brother- and her boss -to find out about the crush she had on him.

Maybe.

Maybe all she wished for was some relief from the overwhelming feelings she felt for him.

She was thinking about him, thinking about ways to accidentally eavesdrop on the two of them without looking suspicious, when JJ noticed her.

“Oh hey, Y/N” JJ looked exactly how Y/N felt. Her eyes were practically closed.

Y/N pretended not to notice the way Spencer looked away from her.

“Hey,” she said quietly, giving a little wave as she walked to the elevator doors. Home. That's where she wanted to be.

“Spencer was just inviting me to a movie he recorded at his apartment that he was going to watch-” JJ said, as Spencer tried to interrupt her, she just gave him a stern look when he tried. “-but I need to get home to Henry, so maybe you could go with him instead?”

There was a gleam in her eyes and a smirk on her mouth, if Spencer and Y/N both weren't so obvious they would’ve known what she was doing.

The team had been trying to set them up for a month.

Y/N just stared confused, nerves running up and down her spine reminding her to breathe. She suddenly felt wide awake.

Spencer just looked conflicted.

‘Um- yeah” he cleared his throat, running his hands over his hair and down to his neck “yeah- you could come... Yeah.” he said, moving to glare at JJ for a moment, JJ who was smiling wide, knowing that Spencer would never take back the invitation- especially not for a pretty girl.

“Oh.” Y/N jumped in surprise, her heart was beating faster at the prospect of going with Spencer, and while she knew that he had not technically invited her, she still felt her body practically shout with excitement. “Yeah, of course, I’d love to.” she stopped for a moment trying to collect herself, trying not to look as surprised as she felt, “if it's alright with you.”

They all stood there in the elevator, listening to the quiet hum of the machinery, two of them looking awkwardly at the ground, both of them full of nerves, one of them smiling between the two of them.

As the elevator finally came to a stop Spencer spoke up again.

“Yeah, if you want I could- you could just- follow me… if you want.”

Y/N nodded quickly, not used to Spencer talking to her directly.

JJ smiled just a little bit wider, just a little, and waved them both goodbye, turning around before saying “I’ll let you both deal with that.”.

She couldn't wait to tell Penelope.

And then there were two.

Two, very socially inept, nervous, people.

***

Spencer's apartment was just as Y/N had expected it to be, it was small and warm, and there were a million lamps all around the space. It was filled to the brim with bookshelves, at least 5 of them all around the room making it look smaller than it was. In the corner of the room there was a small couch and a tv, Y/N could see books spread all over the coffee table, and multiple mugs sitting around the room.

It felt like his home.

Y/N adored it.

Though Spencer looked around nervously, his eyes uncomfortably noticing all of the things he’d forgotten to pick up, all the books he’d left out.

“So um- this is it.”

Y/N giggled a little at that.

Her car ride over there had been filled with doubts and insecurities, she had noticed how distant Spencer had been with her, how little effort he had made to get to know her. Out of all of her new friends he was the least welcoming.

She still felt drawn to him. She still felt like she needed to get to know him.

It was the craziest feeling.

On her way over she had decided she would get to know him, just so she could count herself as a friend, just so she could start looking past him, start looking at everyone else instead of constantly being focused on him.

“Okay. Do you have popcorn?” Y/N said breaking the silence they had been surrounded in.

It earned Y/N her first smile.

She was amazed.

She wanted to keep making him smile.

Spencer gestured for her to follow him to the kitchen while he put a bag of something- which she assumed was popcorn as she had asked -in the microwave. It felt just a little bit more comfortable now, almost like they weren't going to have the worst time together.

“So uh- how are you um-” Spencer cleared his throat, clearly out of his bounds. “How are you enjoying the BAU? I knew that- um- when I first started I was really nervous.”

Y/N felt a bit darker at his words. Did she tell him how she really felt, about the doubts she’d been having? Or did she lie through her teeth? Lie to the man who had given her his first smile, lie to the man who had invited her over?

Turns out she didn't have to answer that question, as Spencer answered it for her like he did most questions.

“Oh no. Did I- um… Did I say something wrong? I’m sorry I didn't mean-”

“What?” she said quickly “No you didn't say anything wrong…”

Spencer stared at her, waiting for her to continue, he felt like she had more to say.

“It's just I… I don't know I’m just not-” she threw her hands up and sighed, surprised by her own reaction, she didn't want to throw all of her problems at Spencer, especially when it was their first time even having a full conversation out of work.

“Is there something wrong?” he said quietly, trying to read her body language to gauge her reaction.

“I just-” she sighed again and put her head in her hands. “I can't explain.”

Spencer nodded. He just stared at her a little bit longer, he had read somewhere that if you leave silence between conversations, most of the time the question would be answered all on its own.

After a couple of seconds waiting he could clearly see this wasn't the case with Y/N.

“Okay. What if I ask questions… and you answer?”

Y/N looked up, “like an interrogation?”

Spencer smiled a little bit and nodded, he was glad she seemed open to the idea.

“Okay.”.

They spent the night like that, Spencer had learned all about Y/N just through asking questions.

The movie was forgotten.

Y/N had come clean about her worries, about her hesitations with their job, Spencer had practically pulled the truth out of her after seeing past all the empty answers she gave his questions.

It was infuriating how much he could read her.

Eventually, they had switched, and Y/N had asked the questions for a little while.

She had learned about Spencer's mom, had learned about his love for all things sweet, had learned about his favorite books, and had learned a lot more about practically everything than she ever had in school.

It was almost addicting.

They switched back and forth for hours, eventually moving to the couch, asking each other questions and laughing.

It was almost two in the morning.

Earlier Y/N had felt like she was going to fall asleep standing.

Now she felt wide awake.

She thought about how the morning would turn out, how much they both needed sleep, and eventually said, “I should probably go.”

The smile Spencer was wearing fell just a fraction of an inch, and Y/N immediately felt terrible.

“I think we both need some sleep.,” she said, trying to communicate that she didn't actually want to go, but she definitely didn't want to fall asleep at her desk the next day.

Spencer walked to the door and smiled.

He smiled.

She wondered how hard it was going to be to stay away from him now.

***

“Aaron she was going to die!”

“Y/N, you can't throw yourself into situations like that.”

A year later she had no doubts about her job.

No hesitations.

Nothing but the need to save as many victims as possible.

Cases in Virginia were always the most stressful, with Strauss breathing down their necks, the media wanting to know everything about the FBI that was located in the state.

They all hated it.

They much preferred to go out of state, somewhere with none of their families, none of their problems constantly chasing them down. It was always so much calmer when they weren't home.

Always so much easier.

And maybe running directly into danger wasn't the best way to relieve stress.

Y/N knew that.

But she also knew how scared that girl must have felt, she knew how deadly the gun in the unsubs hand was, and she knew that it was her job, not just as an FBI agent, but also as a person, to do something. To do anything to save a little girl's life.

She wasn't going to stop to think about her own life in a moment like that.

She had rushed into the house, rushed into the place where so many other little girls had died, rushed into the place with a man almost three times her size, a man who was holding a gun. She wasn't going to risk that little girl's life.

And she was fine, and that little girl was alive.

To her, that was worth more than a million praises from anyone.

It wasn't enough for Hotch though.

The minute they had gotten back to the office, the second Y/N had tried to sit down at her desk, the minute she had tried to say anything to Spencer, that was the minute Hotch pulled her away, furious, into his office.

She already knew she was in trouble.

He had sat her down, he had repeated exactly what he had said when she arrived at the unsubs house, alone, he repeated his exact orders to her, repeated the orders that she had deliberately disobeyed.

“Aaron. She needed my help!”

“Y/N you can't risk your life! And you definitely can't ignore a direct order.”

Both of them had scowls on their faces, and at that moment they looked exactly like siblings, looked so similar it was hard to tell them apart.

The rest of the team was sitting in their desks, listening to them fight, pretending to be filling out late reports, but mostly listening to the two siblings fighting.

Garcia was standing outside the door, waiting for something to happen. She didn't want anything bad to happen to her best friend. She didn't want them to fight at all.

Spencer nervously looked from the door to his desk over and over, waiting for one of them to walk out, waiting for the yelling to continue. He knew that his girlfriend was probably freaking out internally, trying to control her anger as she had to do many times with her brother. He knew that what she needed right now wasn't a reprimand, what she needed was reassurance. He had no idea how he could get that to her.

“Aaron. I am good at my job. I got her out of there. Safely.” Y/N said sternly, refusing to back down, even for a moment, refusing to admit that what she did was reckless, refusing to admit her life meant anything more than that little girl.

“But at what cost Y/N? What if you had gotten hurt-”

“I didn't.”

“Or died? What would that mean for us?” He asked, looking at her, his eyes hard and unmoving.

Their stubbornness was always something they had shared.

“Aaron. I knew what I was doing. I had to save her.”

“It was reckless Y/N.”

“Maybe it was. Maybe, it was. But I’m fine, she's fine, we’re all fine.” she reassured him by gesturing to the door, why didn't he understand that she couldn't not go in there?

“I can't have you acting like that. I can't have you not listening to my orders.”

“Is that what this is about? Me disobeying you?” Y/N asked in shock, shock because it almost felt like he was trying to control her, trying to show her that he was still older than her. “Because news flash Aaron, I’m not some little kid you’re in charge of anymore.”

“I’m your boss.”

“I had to do it!” she said finally.

“It was stupid. It was stupid and reckless, and I have no idea what you were thinking.” His words were final and stern. His face was angry, and he was clenching his fists. It looked like he wanted to say more but Y/N wasn't going to let him. She wasn't going to let him call her names, and treat her like she wasn't an adult.

Y/N was done, she was done trying to be calm, done trying to keep all her feelings hidden deep in her chest, done trying to pretend she didn't want to throw something at him, she was done.

“I’m not a little girl Aaron!” she yelled at him, walking away. “I can take care of myself, and I know what I’m doing. Maybe that's not good enough for you, but it's good enough for me.”

And she threw open the door, too angry to care about Penelope who was standing shocked in front of her. She rushed to her desk and started throwing things in her bag, mumbling under her breath.

“Y/N?” Someone said from behind her.

She sighed.

“What Spence?” she said quietly, feeling like giving up.

“Are you alright?” he asked, grabbing her arm and trying to get her to look at him. If she looked at him he would know how she was actually feeling, without having to guess.

She looked up and studied his eyes.

“He's being ridiculous!” she whisper-yelled looking back down at her desk. “I did the right thing and I’m fine. He's just mad because I didn't listen.”

Spencer watched her for a few moments.

“Maybe he's right,” he said quietly, his eyes looking worried and surprised, surprised because he hadn't meant to say the words out loud.

Y/N’s head snapped up. Her eyes looked deadly.

“What?” she said quietly, more quietly than she had been in the past 10 minutes.

“Y/N I just think that-”

She cut him off. “No Spencer. You’re supposed to take my side. You’re supposed to have my back. Jesus-” she said sadly grabbing her bag from her desk and throwing it over her shoulder. “You’re my boyfriend and you’re supposed to support me.”

“Y/N I do I just-”

He couldn't get anything else out.

“You’re supposed to support me,” she said desperately, giving him one last look, one filled with anger and doubt and sadness, and all the feelings she had no idea how to express, she gave him one last look and

She walked out the door.

***

Driving was a helpful coping mechanism.

Driving helped Y/N ease her mind. Helped her think things through.

She knew she shouldn't have yelled at Aaron and Spencer like that, she knew she had overreacted. And she knew that to some degree they were right.

She hated how protective both of them were.

She loved how protective both of them were.

It was a difficult car ride, she was doubting herself, doubting her instincts, doubting her efficiency as an agent, doubting if her brother and boyfriend believed in her.

She knew she overreacted.

But Aarons words had hurt, he had insulted her, and even if he’d had reason to, it still hurt her feelings.

Spencer was a different story. She’d automatically assumed he would agree with her, would agree that the little girl's life was worth more than any risk, would agree that Hotch was being harsh.

She’d forgotten how angry he could get when she ran right into danger.

She was driving and her palms were sweaty, and her stomach was being attacked by anxiety, and she had no idea how to talk to either of them.

All she knew was that she had to.

She had to get over her feelings, she had to think about them.

So she drove back. Slowly. As slow as she could go, but she drove back.

When she parked her car she felt like turning around, she felt like a little kid again about to go tattle on her brother to her mom, felt like she was the victim and the abuser all at once, and felt an overwhelming amount of emotions fill her to the core.

She walked inside. It took her a moment to remember how to get back to her desk.

It was irresponsible for her to leave in the first place.

When she walked through the doors of the BAU you noticed Spencer's absent desk, she noticed her other coworkers staring at her, their eyes a bit hopeful. She looked at them confused.

“Reid went to the bathroom. Don't worry pretty girl, he didn't leave.” Morgan said, reading the question in her eyes, watching her exhale in relief.

She smiled at him and walked towards Hotch's office.

She had been gone almost 2 hours, and technically she knew that everyone could have leftover half an hour ago, but she also knew all of them, and she knew how late they’d stay.

She knocked on her brother's door, regret pooling at her stomach, air filling her head.

There was a quiet “come in” from the other side.

She peeked inside his office, saw him scribbling on a piece of paper, and as soon as he looked up Y/N felt a million times smaller. She always felt smaller when she was in trouble. Though when she looked at her brother's eyes all she could see was relief.

“I’m glad you’re back,” he said, looking back down at his papers, clearing his throat, clearly a sign that she could come in.

So she did.

She walked over to his desk and sat in one of his empty chairs. She watched him write for a minute, thinking of something to say, thinking about all the times she’d had to apologize to him in the past.

“Aaron.”

“Hmm?” he said looking up at her again.

“I’m-” she paused, paused, and took a deep breath. He deserved an apology. “I’m sorry.”

She saw his jaw twitch, saw a flicker in his eyes, saw a drastic change in posture.

“I know,” he said.

She sighed in relief. She knew he wasn't mad anymore.

“I know I overreacted. I know it was stupid what I did. I won't do it again, I just- I just had to do something. That's all.” She hoped that was a good enough explanation, hoped it would make him forgive her, hoped her mistake could cost her in the future. She looked down at her hands, not wanting to see his reaction. She hated apologizing.

“It wasn't stupid,” Hotch said, putting his pen down. She looked up at him slowly.

“What?”

“It wasn't stupid. I’m sorry I said that. I understand what you had to do.”

More relief, making its way up her feet, and into her stomach, relief filling her chest with cool air, seizing the fire of anxiety in her chest. Sweet, sweet relief.

“But that doesn't mean you can ignore my orders” He added, and Y/N felt herself smile. He was teasing her, she saw a glimpse of the brother she used to- still -idolized.

“Sir, yes sir,” she whispered, moving to stand up. She had another person to apologize to. As she walked away her brother spoke again,

“Y/N?” she nodded, looking back at him. “Don't be too hard on him,” he said gesturing outside, where Spencer was back at his desk, staring at the bag on top of Y/N’s.

She smiled at him and looked over at her brother. “I won't.”

She almost walked away again “Aaron, you should go home.” he looked back up at her “go say hi to my nephew for me. “

And with that, she walked out the door, walked away too fast to see him smile at her.

The relief was invading her brain, making her next decisions for her.

She would have to thank it later.

She walked out the door and over to Spencer's desk, Spencer who looked surprised she was actually there.

She grabbed his arm and pulled him up.

“Hey-”

She kept pulling him, moving both of them into an empty storage room, while the rest of the team laughed at her antics.

As soon as she made it into the small space with him, as soon as he looked down into her eyes, his face entirely a question, her nerves entirely seized.

“I’m sorry.”

Spencer frowned at her. He frowned and opened his mouth in a silent question.

“I’m sorry for overreacting. I shouldn't have taken out my anger on you. It was unfair.” She said, searching his eyes for forgiveness.

They didn't fight often, barely fought at all, but every time they had she had always found the answer to her problem in his eyes. His eyes seemed to know everything.

She wondered if they knew how much she loved him.

“No, Y/N I should’ ve-”

She pulled him into a kiss, resting her hands in his hair as he moved his to her cheeks, as she held her apart as she kissed him, her lips an entirely different apology of their own.

Sweet sweet relief.

When she pulled back, just enough to see his face, she watched him sigh in bliss, watched the tiny smile on his face, watched his eyes open with amazement.

She wondered when she had last kissed him like that.

It seemed like too long.

She pulled him back in, giving him small pecks on his lips, and then his cheek, and then his neck. Smiling at the way he giggled when she tickled him with her hair.

“Y/N?” he said after a moment, his voice warm.

She looked back up at him to smile, to smile and peck his lips once more as an answer.

“I think I’d like you to take out your anger on me just a little bit-”

She cut him off with a kiss.

Sweet sweet relief.

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#spencer reid smut #spencer reid #spencer reid x reader #spencer reid x you #spencer reid x y/n #criminal minds imagine #criminal minds x reader #criminal minds #criminal minds rp #criminal minds headcanons #emily prentiss x reader #aaron hotchner #aaron hotch x reader #mgg #mgg x reader #mgg blurb

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seasonofthewicth · 3 years

Text

nobody does it like you do - act 2

Thank you so much for all your reactions to part 1! I hope you enjoy part two just as much :)

CW: mentions of past minor character death (incl. a pregnant woman)

7.3k - masterlist - ao3

Her first day of shooting isn’t great. It’s not bad by a long way, but it could have easily been better. They’re on location in a forest somewhere in the outskirts of Rifthold and she didn’t even know there were places in the city like this, she’d assumed it was all the sprawling metropolis of skyscrapers and crowded streets, but apparently not.

She’s cold. There’s a machine beating down torrents of fake rain on her and Fenrys where they stand opposite each other on the muddy path through the trees, they’re filming the scene where their characters first meet. Her feet are soggy inside the canvas trainers she’s wearing and they keep spraying water on her hair to keep the wet look running throughout all of the takes and she hates it. She’s uncomfortable and stiff but she comforts herself with the knowledge that Fenrys is the same if the frown he wears whenever the camera isn’t on him is anything to go by.

It helps, barely.

She keeps having to spit water out of her mouth between lines, she swears it never rains this heavily in real life but who is she to comment, and she watches Rowan’s lips twist in displeasure where he sits behind the camera every time she does it. Aelin’s not sure what else she’s supposed to do, he can sit there out of the line of the water all fine, but she can’t speak with her mouth full.

It can take time to fall into the natural rhythm of shooting a new project, even the shitty ones she’s done in the past have shown her that, but there’s something about the way Rowan watches her that prickles the back of her neck, his stare intense and heavy as he watches, that adds the pressure. She wants to show him that she can do this. She wants his approval.

She ignores the reasons why.

After they finish and Rowan has called cut she sulks back to her trailer, she’s only just managed to change out of her sodden clothes when there’s a knock at the door. It’s Fenrys, warm and dry now in his own change of clothes.

They’ve sort of become friends recently, after swapping numbers after the table read he had texted her first. The studio has put him in the same complex as her and they’ve shared a car back there a couple of times after some of their meetings. She likes him a lot actually, and while she knows his reputation of infamy with the ladies follows him around like a bad smell, she feels comfortable with him.

“That could have gone better,” he tells her as he flops down onto the two-seater sofa at the end of her trailer, the other half has a mound of clothes dumped on it that she hasn’t bothered to sort through yet.

She just shoots him a look that she hopes says tell me about it.

“Tomorrow will be better,” he tells her, reassuringly. He would know she supposes, he has far more experience than her.

“I hope so.”

“How’re you finding it so far, working with Rowan?” he asks, and she frowns, bristling at the fact that he somehow knows the worst question to ask already. Aelin doesn’t think she’s behaved weirdly around Rowan since the day at the table read, in fact she’s tried to avoid him where possible. Maybe that’s it.

“Fine,” she says, but that’s not quite true. It messes with her in a dangerous way every time she knows he’s watching her. She should be able to turn that part of her brain off during a scene, she trained for years to learn how to do that, but he gets to her. She’s working on it.

Fenrys laughs, seeing right through her.

“He’s not bad once you get to know him, the first time we worked together I thought he was a total dick.” She gives him the same look as before as she clears the clothes and sits down next to him.

“I swear he’s not that bad. He’s just-” Fenrys pauses, weighing her up with a look, and something that he takes in from the way she stands, gnawing on her lower lip with her hair still wet, has him saying; “He’s got a lot riding on this.”

“Why?”

It doesn’t feel like he has a lot riding on this, his last piece was nominated for the Oscars, how much higher than that can you get? It’s not like he’s in the same position as her, desperately clawing herself back to a place where she can be cast in a role and it not be followed by a stunned, oh?

She knows there were articles written when her casting was announced that were doubtful of her ability to do this movie, that questioned whether she’s up to the task and whether she’s good enough to be standing next to names like Fenrys and Rowan. Some of the articles were straight up mean, and she only knows that because she searched them up like a masochist when all the ones Elide sent over were far too nice.

A dark part of herself can’t help but fall prey to some of the headlines. The ones that throw around words like nepotism, the ones that question whether Aelin is talented enough to be where she is cut deeper than any knife, and only half of it is because she sometimes wonders the same. She should be better than that, but the reminder catches in her throat that she really does have a lot riding on this.

“It’s not really my place to say.”

That’s a load of shit, and she tells him so. He only shrugs, not willing to so openly gossip about their boss.

“How well do you know him exactly?” She’s fishing for any details, but it definitely could be passed off as casual curiosity.

“He directed my debut, we keep in touch every so often.” He’s nonchalant. “He asked me to audition for this.”

“Nice humble brag.”

Fenrys only flashes her his movie star grin, in combination with the wink he throws at her it’s almost an effort not to blush.

“He wanted you cast, you know?” That she didn’t know, but it’s nice to hear.

“Why? He doesn’t know me.”

“You’re hard work, you know?” He’s joking but it doesn’t sit quite right. She knows it’s true. “Come with us tonight. There's a group of us getting dinner, and you can ask him yourself.”

It’s an olive branch. She knows it’s obvious to everyone that she’s uncomfortable, still hasn’t quite found her feet on set after taking such a break, and it’s one that she’s grateful for. No matter how closed off she knows she still seems to them.

“Okay,” she says and Fenrys’ smile is genuine and a part of her lifts, it’s a start.

They share a car to the restaurant and he fills the journey with easy chatter. She appreciates it because she feels really fucking rusty. It’s been a while since she spoke to anyone outside of her immediate circle of friends and family, and it’s always been easy with them. This is different, but not unwelcome.

Sometimes she worries that, as much as they love her, Aedion, Lysandra and Elide are inclined to tread lightly around her. She’d like to think that she’s not that fragile, that she could take the full front of their humour and teasing like she used to, but then remembers when Fenrys’ joke fell flat for her in the trailer and she thinks again.

Either way, the cast and crew here don’t treat her like she’s broken, or even breakable, and it’s refreshing.

Fenrys leads the way into the restaurant, and there’s definitely paparazzi down the street snapping away at them as they cross the short distance from the car to the door. She tries to ignore it, she’ll text Elide once they’re done here, even though Elide will probably be overjoyed. It’s probably (definitely) easier to publicise your talent when she’s out there doing things with other famous people compared to staying inside her home alone.

Fenrys greets the staff on the door and they lead them through the restaurant to a staircase at the back of the room and it leads up to a private space with only one table. Right, privacy. Some of these guys are proper celebrities.

They’re the last ones there, and there’s two seats left at the table. Manon is here, so is Rowan and one of the executive producers who she thinks is called Gavriel.

“Alright guys, you all know Aelin,” Fenrys says and she smiles as they greet her.

Fenrys holds a chair out for her, the one next to Rowan, and she slides into it as he takes the one on her other side.

Rowan offers her a quirk of his lips, one she returns as she takes him in. He’s wearing short sleeves this time and she gets a good look at the tattoo snaking the whole way down his left arm. It’s in the Old Language and she can’t read it, even though her father had spent hours trying to teach her when she was a kid, but the lettering is beautiful and neat. She wants to reach out and touch, to trace the lines that roll down his golden skin.

She doesn’t. Obviously.

A waiter comes over to take their drink orders, Fenrys gets a beer, Manon and Gavriel opt for wine, but Rowan asks for an orange juice. He’s not drinking either and she wonders if it’s related to the reason he needs this movie to go well. So she’s nosy? So what?

She sits back and observes as the conversation flows, laughing along at the easy banter that flows between the three men and the sarcastic quips Manon throws in. Fenrys clearly understated his relationship with Rowan, they seem tight and have a clear fondness for one another. It’s easy to slot herself in as the night progresses, snarking with Manon and joining in with the general light-hearted mockery of Fenrys.

She thinks maybe so far she’s got Rowan wrong.

Tonight he’s quick-witted and charming, and he makes his best effort to include her in the conversation which she appreciates. It’s a contrast to the dark and teasing side of him she’s seen so far in the hallway and the table read. Maybe he’s decided to just start again, pretend they never met before she was cast, and she can do that too.

“So, Aelin.” Manon turns the spotlight to her after a while. “Tell us the scoop. I’ve not seen you in anything for a while.”

It’s not a nasty question, Aelin can just tell from the way she asks it, nothing more than genuine curiosity lies in her tone even if the phrasing is somewhat harsh. Manon might not be the bubbliest of characters, she’s blunt and doesn’t beat around the bush, but she’s not unkind, and Aelin doubts if she knew the truth she’d ask that question in such a way.

Elide managed to keep the worst of her… career break? One could phrase it more like breakdown, out of the limelight. She somehow managed to keep the worst of it hidden, and Aelin will owe her that for the rest of her life.

All the world knows is that Sam was murdered when they were both still newbies to their respective industries, neither of them had had their big break yet, and after that she took a break. For three years.

She remembers the headlines from the time, most were in smaller magazines, Sam wasn’t famous enough to make the front pages. Her mouth tastes like bile.

Singer-Songwriter Sam Cortland, 20, murdered in random street attack in Orynth, girlfriend Aelin Ashryver unharmed and working with police to identify suspect.

No one knows she knelt there in his blood begging for him to open his eyes, not even Aedion, or Lysandra or Elide, and she blinks back the image now. Her hands are curled into fists below the table and she forces herself to uncurl them and lay them flat against her jeans.

“Yeah,” she says after clearing her throat. “I took a break from it all for a few years, but I’m back now obviously and really excited for it.”

Manon nods and Gavriel raises a glass. He’s been nothing but kind to her all night. He kind of reminds her of her father, though he’s not that old, probably not even forty yet. He’s softly spoken and counters each snarky comment from Fenrys or Manon with something softer but no less amusing.

“Good to hear,” Fenrys says with a grin, clinking his glass against Gavriel’s.

The way Rowan watches her as he raises his own glass in a toast to her, careful and without speaking, tells her he knows. At least the basics about Sam, and it seems like maybe he did google her just like she joked back at the table read.

Their meals arrive then, mercifully taking the attention away from her. She needs to find a better way to deal with the attention than shutting down, especially if this film is going to be as big as everyone thinks it will be. She should call her therapist.

She will.

Eventually.

They leave the restaurant not long after, Fenrys covering the bill, emphasising that this was a celebration and an initiation for Aelin. She almost blushes for some unknown reason at his words, but she likes it. It sounds good. Like she really is back, or at least will be.

They each give her their numbers, and she likes the way he’s in her phone now as Rowan rather than Rowan Whitethorn, it feels like he’s not just someone from work. Not just her boss.

They each say goodbye and share a series of embraces, ignoring the small group of paparazzi that follow, desperate for any kind of incriminating image of any of the five of them. It’s clear that most of them are here for Fenrys, but she still makes sure to keep her expression clear and guarded as Rowan wraps her into a one-armed hug when they leave. It’s not just for the paparazzi.

Back in her apartment, when she’s tucked up in bed knowing she should be asleep, she can’t stop herself from googling him. She’s honestly surprised she’s lasted this long.

The first few news articles to come up are all about the movie and she scrolls past them, instead pulling up his Wikipedia page and scrolling straight to the personal life section. Maybe this is the weirdest way anyone’s ever got to know a friend, but she’s intrigued and still slightly flustered by him so it will do.

The section on his personal life is relatively bare, and it doesn’t surprise her. His Instagram account alone told her pretty explicitly that he’s a private kind of guy. She almost scrolls away after the first few lines, they don’t give her much information other than the college he went to and the languages he speaks, but she reads the final few lines of the section anyway.

In March 2018 Whitethorn’s fiance, Lyria Woods, passed away as the result of a road traffic accident. The driver of the other vehicle was found to be under the influence of alcohol at the time of the accident and was later sentenced to 6 years in prison for death by dangerous driving. Woods was 12 weeks pregnant with their child at the time of the accident.

Only a couple of weeks after the Oscars that she and Lysandra watched. She does the maths and realises this is his first film since then and thinks she knows what Fenrys meant.

Fucking shit.

Her second day of shooting goes better than the first, just as Fenrys said it would.

She’s more relaxed when she crosses the set from her trailer with a coffee in hand and she thinks she knows her place a little better now, even after only one night spent with the others.

She lies back while her make up is done, chatting to the make-up artist instead of sitting silently like the day before, and she’s almost ready for the discomfort that her wet hair will bring. The weather adds to the atmosphere of the film, dark and dreary and moody, and she gets why they’re doing it, but it still sucks.

Fenrys is ready when she gets there, and while she’s not avoiding Rowan today after finding out about his… past, she just finds it difficult to look him in the eye knowing what she does. He probably wouldn’t be surprised that she knew, if it’s on Wikipedia it’s public knowledge and they have made jokes about googling each other, but she feels weird in a way that she didn’t learn it from him. It feels intrusive, or invasive, to find out about something like that through Wikipedia.

But even though they bonded somewhat last night, and he greeted her this morning with an easy hey, they’re still not close. No matter that she thinks she might want them to be. She’s trying again to ignore the way she feels drawn to him, the way her eyes seek him out without her permission.

She knows she kills the take. Knows it from the high five Fenrys slaps against her palm once Rowan’s called cut and from the swift nod he offers her when she glances towards him.

There seem to be two Rowan’s too, there’s the award winning director Rowan Whitethorn, and then just Rowan.

Rowan Whitethorn is cool and calculating and distant, quiet while he watches their scene from his place behind the camera, the big black headphones he uses pushed down around his neck. His eyes are as sharp as a hawk’s while he watches for all the minute details of their expressions and any improvements they could make. He doesn’t give her that many she’s pleased to note.

The way he instructs them is impressive, with clear directions and thoughtful analyses. She’s been here two days and she knows how he got the Oscar nomination, he’s scarily intelligent and seems to know exactly what’s off about a performance before she figures it out herself.

The other side to him, the side that is just Rowan is…

Just Rowan is the one she likes more.

She suspects the smile he gives her later, after they’ve nailed the bulk of the scene in one take and she’s being twirled around by Fenrys, comes from him.

She has two full days off in a row, and she decides the best use of her time is to go and stay with Aedion and Lysandra. Fenrys isn’t free, and the reason she is is that he has a load of solo scenes to shoot, and she doesn’t envy him at all.

Lysandra is ecstatic when she announces via a group text to her and Aedion that she’ll be at their house for lunchtime, and she loves it, but it makes her feel a little guilty. That she’s let it get to the point when her friend reacts like that at her promise of a visit is quite frankly appalling, but she finally feels as if she’s taken the first step. She’s on the bottom rung of the ladder, and it’s taken her a while, but she’s there now.

Aedion and Lysandra live in a disgustingly big house in a gated part of the suburbs, and she knows the house isn’t exactly what they would have chosen in an ideal world, it’s too big and garish and grey, but there are gates by the entrance and 24 hour security.

It still messes with her head that Aedion is that famous. Aedion. Her gangly cousin, always too tall for his own good, who used to pull her hair when they were kids and sneak her extra helpings of cake at family parties before her parents divorced. She doesn’t know that much about football, so little in fact that her dad and Aedion teased her relentlessly for years, but everyone tells her he’s good.

Like really good.

The salary he gets from the Ravens is more than enough proof.

She rings their front door bell and she can hear Lysandra’s quick steps before the big wooden door is pulled open.

Her friend is glowing. Her dark hair falls into waves near the end and her staggeringly beautiful face is free of any make-up and unblemished and dewy. She’s had time to get over the insecurities that come from being friends with Lysandra so it barely phases her as she wraps her arms around her friend.

“I’ve missed you,” she whispers into Lysandra’s hair. It smells like coconut and citrus and just Lysandra.

“I missed you too. So much,” Lysandra sighs as she pulls back, dragging Aelin into the house and shutting the door.

Their hallway is grand and open but there’s a pile of their shoes by the wall and a rack of coats that make it feel more homely. There are framed photos carefully arranged on the sideboard in the entry way that show the two of them with their whole family and all of their friends.

There’s one on there of Aelin and Lysandra at eighteen, their arms thrown tightly around each other while they grin massive, excited smiles at the camera, or more likely Elide behind it. She remembers the day it was taken, Lysandra had signed to her first agency and arranged to move to Rifthold, and they had taken her out to celebrate.

It was around the same time she signed for her first movie, a tiny role with two lines and twenty seconds of screen time but it got the ball rolling with her first proper acting credit, and she’ll never forget it.

A head of golden hair pokes around the kitchen doorway at the end of the hall and she lets her cousin sweep her up into a hug, swinging her up and around so her feet dangle above the floor.

“Alien, we’ve missed you.”

A stupid nickname from when they were young, the kind of young where he thought it was hilarious to replace her name with an extraterrestrial, but it only makes her smile now, squeezing her cousin tight before he puts her back down.

“Yeah, I bet you’ve been lost without me.” She beams at them, taking a moment to soak in how it feels to be with them even as Aedion rolls his eyes. “I’ve missed you both too.”

“Lunch is ready, come on,” Aedion tells her as he takes her case and drags it through the house, leaving it by the bottom of the stairs. It’s then that she spots the frilly pink apron tied around his waist.

“Alright,” she laughs. “I can’t wait to try what the domestic goddess has in store for us.”

Peals of laughter burst out of Lysandra and she grins back at her, forever grateful that they managed to keep their relationship with each other from ever impacting on their relationship with Aelin. At first she had been worried that Aedion and Lysandra would become AedionAndLysandra and that she wouldn’t have a place left with them, but she needn’t have worried, and they worked too well together for Aelin to have ever wished for anything different.

“Gods, shut up,” he mutters, slinging an arm around her shoulders and leading her to the kitchen. “So annoying, both of you.”

She grins as she hears Lysandra smack an overly dramatic kiss to his cheek.

Aedion’s a surprisingly good cook, the lunch he’s made is tasty despite being carefully planned to fit into both his and Lysandra’s strict meal plans. If they’re the cost needed to be able to live in a house like this, Aelin doesn’t want it.

“So,” Aedion says after he’s finished chewing a mouthful. “How are things going?”

He asks it with a gentle kind of sensitivity that she understands what he’s really asking. She knows it’s code for are you still sober? but she also knows he hasn’t asked it because he doubts her. Aedion and Lysandra have always been in her corner, even in her darkest moments they were there.

She never wants to put them through anything like that ever again. Never wants them to experience anything as terrifying as the last night she ever touched a drug. That night, almost a year ago now, will forever be the bottom of her pit. She doesn’t remember much of it, other than the devastation on Aedion’s face as he carried her out of the men’s toilets of a seedy nightclub in Perranth. The way he’d bitten his lip as he picked her up off the sticky floor, pulling the hem of her dress down to cover her underwear where it had ridden up.

The thought makes her sick.

He’d had to skip a game, leading to a bollocking from his coach, but he’d done it for her. Had carried her out of the club and into a car, waiting to take them back to his house. Lysandra had stroked her hair where she lay on the cool tiles of the bathroom floor while Aedion called a doctor to the house. Even through his panic he had thought of her and how little she would want it publicised that she’d been pulled out of a club, off her fucking rocker on whatever substance she’d been given by the lowlives she had fallen in with. She’s really, really lucky that for once Aedion hadn’t been followed by paparazzi.

She takes a sip of her sparkling water before she answers, it feels like all she ever drinks these days and it tastes like shit but it’s worth it if she never reverts back to where she was.

“I’m good.” She’s almost surprised to find that it’s true. “I’m feeling much better.”

She can barely look at them, can barely take the level of subdued joy on their faces.

“We’re glad Aelin, really glad.” Lysandra’s voice is sincere.

“So, how’s the new project going?” Aedion asks her, sensing her discomfort almost immediately.

“That’s good too actually.” It is. It feels good to have something positive to focus on, something that she feels is productive and worth doing. “It’s nice to be back and be busy even if the morning shoots begin disgustingly early. It’s good to be on set, surrounded by it all again and to remember that I can actually do this.”

She stabs her fork through a piece of tomato a little aggressively as she finishes and the look Lysandra shoots her tells her she’s not impressed with the self-deprecation but that she’ll let it slide for now.

“And Fenrys Moonbeam, is he really that good looking in real life?”

Aelin laughs. “More actually, sometimes it's too much.”

“Nice,” Lysandra nods appreciatively.

“Is he alright though?” Ever the overprotective older brother figure, she expected some version of this question from Aedion.

“He’s great. He’s hilarious and it really helps on the long days,” she says before taking her next bite.

“And Rowan Whitethorn’s directing isn’t he? What’s he like?”

Aelin blinks and finishes chewing slowly. “He’s… fine.”

She knows she’s fucked it when Aedion and Lysandra share a look, matching smirks beginning on each of their faces.

“Fine,” Lysandra repeats. “What exactly does fine mean Aelin?”

She purses her lips. “He’s a great director.”

Lysandra rolls her eyes. “And?”

She could probably lie here, they’d probably let it slide if she said some bullshit about how they’ve not spoken much and how she barely knows him, but she honestly needs to talk to someone about this. You know, to set her straight.

“And he’s really hot.”

She’s blushing as Lysandra laughs and Aedion chuckles.

“You’ve got a crush,” Lysandra sing-songs, and when she doesn't respond she says, “Have you got a picture of him? I don’t think I actually know what he looks like.”

She can’t blame Lysandra for that, she’s still kicking herself for not recognising him that day in the hallway, but he was only on screen for a few seconds at the Oscars and it wasn’t long after Sam so it wasn’t like she was paying attention in that way. She still thinks she should have noticed.

She pulls her phone out to find the only picture she has on there with Rowan. She had only taken it this week when they were eating breakfast with Fenrys one morning, in one of the tents that had been set up for them to sit in between takes, and Fenrys had pulled his phone out to snap a photo of her for his Instagram story.

She’d been wrapped up in one of the huge parkas they’re given for the times in between scenes holding her croissant high up in the air when he’d taken it. He’d captioned it she could have dropped her croissant and tagged her, and she’d gained a good few thousand followers. She’s almost at a million and they’re only a couple of weeks into shooting.

She had taken one of him in response and then spun around to force Rowan into a selfie with her, he’d protested but she’d pouted until he relented, grumbling something about actors that she knew he didn’t mean. She didn’t post it anywhere, she kept it to herself and she can’t lie, she’s looked at it way too many times since.

She’s smiling a wide smile, cheeks stuffed full of her croissant and it’s really kind of gross, but the small smile on Rowan’s face makes it bearable. More than bearable, she has to resist the temptation to make it her lock screen because that would be weird.

She remembers the heat of his chest where he had stood behind her to lean down so their faces were level, the hand he rested on her shoulder to steady himself and the way his fingers had brushed against her neck in the lightest caress.

She hands the phone over to Lysandra and wants to pull it back almost immediately.

It’s not that she’s embarrassed or whatever, even if they think it’s a bad idea they’d let her down gently, it's just that their opinion matters to her a lot. And while they haven’t exactly approved of her string of random hookups in the years since Sam, they’ve never tried to comment on it other than to check she’s in a good place with it, but she knows they’re waiting for the next person she sees seriously.

There’s a fairly large part of her that thinks her first relationship since Sam shouldn’t be with her boss. And that fucks her up a bit, because since when was she considering a relationship with him?

“Oh yeah,” Lysandra says, scaring away the intrusive thought and raising one perfectly arched eyebrow. “He’s hot alright.”

Aedion nods along, peering over Lysandra’s shoulder. Lysandra’s eyes are far too knowing when she looks back up at Aelin and passes the phone over. She doesn’t say a word before locking the phone and sliding it back into her pocket.

“You’ll have to invite us to set sometime.” Lysandra is sneaky but not subtle.

“I will,” she agrees.

The next week flies by, she shoots every single day but one, and she’s far too exhausted each night to do anything other than scrounge up a measly meal that can be pulled together from her cupboard basics and the limited vegetables in her fridge before falling straight asleep. They’ve made good progress so far, and she knows it's going to be good, but she’s tired.

She’s seen a lot more of the process outside of her own character by now too, and she’s amazed, but not surprised, when she persuades one of the crew to let her watch back one of Fenrys’ solo scenes from the previous week. He’s a phenomenal actor, that much is clear, but she had allowed herself to get caught up in Fenrys as her friend, the happy and funny guy she spends her time with, forgetting the talented and driven lead actor of their movie.

Not that she can forget it in the scenes they share, but she’s mostly concentrating on the emotions her character is going through, and responding to what Fenrys gives her. It almost feels too natural for him, and she forgets that it takes work.

His text meets her at lunchtime on the Sunday they both have off, when she’s still in her pyjamas on the couch, debating whether to start a new series or watch the latest cheesy rom-com that Netflix has released.

She auditioned for one of them a couple of years ago, and she’s far enough past the bitterness that comes with not getting the role that she could enjoy it. Maybe a little, cynical part of herself thinks she’s glad she didn’t get it. What she has now is far better. She’s being a snob, but she straight up doesn’t care. It’s not like anyone else is here to judge her.

Fancy coming to Rowan’s to watch the game? I’m leaving in 20 his text reads.

She didn’t plan on doing anything today, but the invitation sparks something in her, and she’s never been to Rowan’s place before. The studio put him in a house about thirty minutes from set, and she’s curious. How much luxury does the big name director get compared to what she and Fenrys have got? She’s lucky really, that Dorian managed to negotiate the same for her as they offered Fenrys.

rowan’s??? She replies, followed by what game????

She gets up off the couch, putting the lid on the tub of yoghurt she was tucking into with a spoon and walking through to the kitchen to throw it back into the fridge.

Tall, grumpy guy that bosses us around all the time comes through a minute later and she grins at her phone at the description. It’s followed up by Ravens v Panthers.

She taps out, getting changed will be ready in 15 and he replies with three smiling emojis.

She doesn’t think it will be anything fancy if her impromptu invitation is anything to go by so she only swaps her pyjama bottoms with tiny cartoon sheep down the legs for a pair of black leggings and throws a sweatshirt over her oversized t-shirt.

Manon is there when they get there, sprawled across the two seater sofa at the far side of Rowan’s living room, and she gives them both a wave when they enter the room. The house is a pretty modest, two-up two-down in a sweet neighbourhood and it’s cosy inside with relatively modern decor. She doesn’t know for sure whether or not that fits Rowan, but she feels like it does.

He doesn’t let them in, Fenrys swings the door open and marches in like it’s his own place and she wonders how much he and Rowan have hung out, or whether that’s just him. Rowan appears in the doorway about a minute after they come in, a bowl of snacks in his hand that she thinks could be popcorn and he puts it down before coming over to wrap Fenrys in a hug. They slap each other on the back in the way that guys do before pulling back.

Aelin stands at Fenrys’ side watching the exchange, unsure whether to greet Rowan or just take a seat, and once they’re done he seems to regard her with the same sort of uncertainty. Fenrys darts around Rowan to throw himself onto the other sofa and she doesn’t give herself long enough to doubt her decision before she opens her arms and steps towards him.

“Hey,” he says simply as he wraps her into a brief hug. “Thanks for coming.”

She wraps her arms around his own broad shoulders, and it feels nice. He’s warm and strong beneath her hands and the way his arms loop around her waist, so far his hands reach back around to her stomach, gets her in a way that she really doesn’t need to think about. It feels really good pressed up against him like that.

“Hey,” she breathes as he pulls back, and she knows he sees the blush on her cheeks. She’s not fifteen, she really needs to sort herself out. “Thanks for having us.”

“Of course, make yourself at home.” He gives her another half smile, offering a flash of his straight, white teeth, and again she’s struck by him. That his place is behind the camera is a crime. “I’ve got more snacks and drinks in the kitchen if you want.”

“Beer?” Fenrys asks her, already heading to a door that she assumes leads to the kitchen.

She shakes her head, “do you have sparkling water?” She directs the question to Rowan who nods.

He doesn’t have to speak before Fenrys says “on it,” and leaves the room.

She assesses the seating choices left in the room, there’s a cream two-seater sofa opposite where Manon lies, and that’s probably her best bet, but Rowan has already taken his seat on it, an ankle crossed over a knee as he settles into the cushions. There’s plenty of room to sit by him and not touch, and she weighs it up against having to ask Manon to move.

She’s friendly with the girl, but still feels slightly intimidated by the calculating and sarcastic blonde despite the fact that she’s a few years younger than Aelin herself, so maybe Rowan is the safer choice.

Fenrys comes back into the room just as she takes her seat.

“Move your feet, Blackbeak,” he demands as he hands her a glass of sparkling water, it’s chilled with a couple of cubes of ice and she appreciates it.

Manon lifts her legs for Fenrys to sit, but plops her legs back down across his lap immediately and sticks her tongue out at him as she does. Aelin feels herself smile at the display, and the fact that she’s included in this circle of friends. She hasn’t really made an effort with anyone new since Sam, the only people she’s really spoken to are Elide, Lysandra and Aedion, and they were all there for her before Sam. It feels really damn good.

She really, really, doesn’t understand the rules of football, but it’s easy enough to cheer along when the others do and laugh at their outrage when something doesn’t go their way. It’s the most animated she’s seen Rowan so far, and she’s not quite sure which way their allegiances lie, but it’s probably with the Ravens being in Rifthold and all, and she knows her own is.

Everytime Aedion gets the ball or is shown on screen she can’t hold back the cheers. She’s proud of him and she knows how hard he works to be as good as he is, and even knowing as little as she does, it's special to watch him excel.

Rowan and Fenrys both seem a little starstruck that he’s her cousin, to her he’s just Aedion and they’re the real, scary celebrities, but they gush about him like starstruck little boys.

“And you were at his house last weekend?” Fenrys cries, almost outraged that this is the first he’s ever heard of it, but honestly? They’re both Ashryvers; it’s not like it's a secret.

“Yes,” she laughs. “He’s basically like my brother.”

“Gods, Aelin.” He sounds almost pained that she hasn’t brought this up before. “You've been holding out on us! Please give me his number or introduce me or something.”

“Sorry.” She laughs again and throws a smile to Rowan that he returns with another quirk of his lips. “Invite me earlier next time and I’ll ask him to sort a box for us at the stadium.”

“Seriously?” Even Rowan sounds awed now.

“Yeah, just let me know,” she says. “It’s no big deal.”

It really wouldn't be, Aedion has been telling her for years to invite any friends she wants to games, she would just need some friends outside of him, Lysandra and Elide first.

“It’s definitely a big deal,” he says, watching her with a smirk still playing on his lips.

She shrugs. “Just make sure you text me early next time.”

“Oh, I will,” he says, and she has to look away from him. The way his voice curves around the words, all low and intense, is definitely about more than just the game.

She tries to pass it off as just looking to where Fenrys is cheering loudly at the next play, but Manon is there again, looking at her with such a knowing expression that she immediately focuses back on the TV.

At half time she needs to use the bathroom and Rowan gives her a quick rundown of the layout of the house. She’s quick to do her thing and runs by the kitchen afterwards to grab a refill of her drink and find something to eat.

Rowan had told them all to help themselves, explaining that he felt they had as much right as he to poke through the cupboards in the only just filled rental property and she gets it. The places the studio rent out for them are nice enough, and she’s more than grateful that they do, but it’s never quite home. Even if her home is somewhat impersonal, it’s still home.

She’s on her tiptoes, scanning through the relatively well stocked cupboards on the hunt for anything chocolate, when someone enters the kitchen behind her.

“I know I said help yourselves, but you’re going to eat me out of house and home at this rate.”

It’s Rowan, and he leans against the doorframe as he watches her startle and spin to face him, his legs are crossed at the ankles and his arms are folded over his chest. The pose highlights his powerful arms that she wants to be wrapped up in again and he looks really good in the dim lighting of the kitchen. It bounces off the lines of his tattoo, shining and highlighting the swirls that she can barely look away. She wants to ask what it means.

Aelin scoffs and pushes the cupboard door shut gently, they’re not eating that much and if they are it’s definitely not her, Fenrys and Manon are another story.

“There’s nothing stopping you from kicking us all out,” she says and he laughs, shaking his head.

He tilts his head to the side, his gaze picking her apart by the second before he says “maybe not all of you.”

His words and the way he shifts in the doorway as his eyes run her up and down gives her the confidence to bite her lip and look up at him through her lashes. He pushes off the door frame and comes to lean against the counter by her side.

He opens a cupboard door on her other side and rummages through a shelf before handing her a foil packet.

“I have a feeling this is what you were after.”

She accepts the chocolate and tucks it onto the counter at her side as she mirrors him and leans against it too.

“Unsurprisingly, you’d be correct.”

He presses his lips together before his lips twist again, it’s the same expression from before that she knows means he wants to smile but he can’t quite commit, and she feels her body loosen like she wants to lean forward to press into him. She doesn’t though.

What she does instead is take a sharp breath and a step back. “Thanks.” She waves the bar of chocolate in the air before stepping around him and making her way back into the living room, forcing her steps to seem calm and collected as she feels his gaze heavy on her back.

“Anytime.” His words follow her out of the room, they’re a promise.

Luckily, Fenrys and Manon both ignore it when Rowan follows her and retakes his place next to her.

#rowaelin #throne of glass #rowan whitethorn #aelin galathynius #rowaelin au #ndilyd #nobody does it like you do #cw: minor character death

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hairringtonsteve · 3 years

Text

wrong house, right time

[joaquin torres x reader]

summary: Sometimes, life just sucks and nothing can be done. But when one (1) Joaquin Torres shows up to fix for air conditioner, your week gets just a little better.

word count: 2,262

a/n: I wasn't going to post this publicly, but @anna-phora told me to do it, so I'm accidentally stepping into MCU fic. Which like... was the eventual plan if I'm being honest. but this was written specifically for her because I'm a great friend. (edited so it's not including her name, lol)

________________________________________________

There are some weeks that are worse than others. You know this. You have accepted this It’s par for the course in life. But really – couldn’t Teacher Appreciation Week be better than the other weeks? It doesn’t even have to be by a lot. You’d take a smidge at this point. Hell, you’d take just about anything. You rested your head against the cool wood of your kitchen cabinet and sighed. On the counter, your phone chimed, signaling a text. A moment later, it chimed again.

“Better be something good,” you mumbled. You fumbled for it blindly, refusing to look for it. This week was exhausting. You weren’t going to move more than you had to for the next two days. After a few seconds, your fingertips bumped up against the edge. Unlocking it without looking, you finally cracked an eye open, pulling away from the cabinet just enough to catch a glimpse of your screen.

A second later, two more texts popped onto the screen.

You let out a snort of laughter as you read the messages. You’d almost forgot. One of your neighbors had recommended him, saying that a friend of a friend was pretty handy with fixing things, and would probably do it for a small fee. You’d hesitated at first, but thinking about how much money a handyman would be had swayed you over.

Glancing down at your dog, Darcy, you hummed softly. “If you’re extra nice, maybe he won’t charge us.”

You ran a hand over your face as you headed through the kitchen and to the front door. You hadn’t heard any knocking, so you assumed he was right in that he was at the wrong house. Opening up the door, you peered through the screen. It took a few seconds, but you spotted a guy slowly wandering down the sidewalk, eyes glued to his phone with a toolbox in his free hand. Every few seconds he would glance up, frown, and then look back to his phone. You figured that it was him, but you didn’t say anything. It was the safe thing to do, to not yell at random men from your house.

And besides, he was cute.

Your gaze slipped over him as he walked. Short hair, strong shoulders. Despite the distance, you could tell that he was handsome. A few more steps and he was one house down. Finally, you decided to put him out of his misery.

His head jerked up as he looked around, his gaze eventually settling on you. You quirked a brow at him and he held up his phone in question. You nodded, motioning for him to come inside. A grin stretched across his lips and something in your chest twisted.

Oh.

Oh no.

Oh no, he was really cute.

Very cute.

Handsome.

Shit.

You swallowed and mustered up a grin as he started up the steps. Darcy started barking, excited at the prospect of meeting literally anyone. You unlocked the screen door and took a few steps back, hooking your fingers through her collar to make sure she didn’t take a running leap at him.

“It’s open,” you called as he reached the door. Darcy barked, tugging forward in Joaquin’s direction. “Sorry about her, she’s just really friendly.”

Joaquin was already kneeling down, setting his toolbox down beside him. “It’s fine, I love dogs. You can let her go.” He paused. “If that’s okay?”

You shrug as you let her go. Darcy shot forward, leaping towards him with an excited bark. She was all over him, unable to decide whether jumping or nuzzling was the way to go. You straightened up, your heart already doing triple time at the sight.

“So,” he started, taking his eyes off of Darcy for a second to look up at you. “Your AC is acting up?”

You nodded. “I have no clue what’s going on with it, but it won’t work. Thank you so much for coming to check it out.”

“Oh, no problem at all,” he said, rubbing Darcy’s ears. Her tail wagged furiously. “Especially for a pretty girl.” Red crept up from his neck to his ears, flushing his face in a way that made him even more attractive. He ducked his head, bashful, as he focused solely on Darcy. “So what’s her name?” The sentence came out fast, like one long word.

“Oh, um, it’s Darcy.” Words were hard to form when the phrase ‘pretty girl’ was echoing around your brain.

“Like the author?” He lifted his head as he asked, a small grin tugging at the corner of his lips. “I had to read a lot of her stuff in high school. Pride and Prejudice was always my favorite.”

“Yeah?”

“Yeah,” he grinned. “You read a lot?”

You shrugged. “Well, I am a high school English teacher.”

Joaquin laughed and nodded his head. “So you read a hell of a lot, then?” His grin settled more into a smile as he -- somewhat unsubtly -- looked you up and down. A beat of silence, and then: “So, you wanna show me the unit?” He grabbed his toolbox and stood up, arching his back a little as he tried to stretch it out from being crouched down.

“Sure,” you said as you started up the stairs. It was quiet as the two of you walked.

“So when did it stop working?” Joaquin asked, breaking the silence.

“The other day. It just started to sputter a little bit and then quit after a few seconds.” You opened up the door and motioned him inside. The AC was still in the window, still mocking you as it sat in the hot, unmoving air.

“And it hasn’t started up since?”

“Nope. I’ve been dying of heatstroke since Wednesday.”

“Makes sense,” he said as he began to shrug off his jacket. The black t-shirt underneath fit him well.

A little too well, if you were being honest.

He stepped over to the unit and began to lift the window up, as though he were planning to get it out by himself when it was clearly a two-person job.

“You need help?” You asked, already moving towards him.

“I’ve got it, I’m strong,” he said, waving you away. You went to argue with him, but he was already wrapping his arms around the thing. With his attention focused on lifting the unit out of the window, you were free to watch as his muscles strained. What was a two-person job for you was easily a one-person job for him. He took his time in setting it on the ground, guiding it down gently. He pressed his lips together as he sat down on the ground and reached for his toolbox. He looked up to where you were still standing.

“Oh, did you want me to -- I can head downstairs? So I don’t bother you?” You took a step back, but paused as he shrugged.

“Or you could stay up here. I wouldn’t mind the company.”

Your stomach flipped. You stepped inside and took a seat on the ground a few feet away from him, making it a little harder for Darcy to investigate what he was doing. That was it. You were there to keep Darcy away. But as you sat there, you realized that you had no clue what to talk about? What was he into?

It was quiet for a few seconds before he asked what your favorite movie was. And suddenly, the two of you were off. Time passed quickly as you spoke, moving from favorite movies to books to exchanging family stories. You learned that he was in the military, and traveled often. You’d asked what he did, and he just shrugged his shoulders, looking from the AC unit to you, and smirked.

“Stuff.”

“Like top-secret stuff?”

“Oh yeah,” he’d said, holding the smirk for another second before laughing. The corners of his eyes crinkled when he laughed.

You liked it.

Despite it feeling as though no time at all had passed, he announced the culprit -- a bad wire -- and it seemed like once he’d figured it out, he was done. But when you glanced at the time on your phone, your eyes widened. Two hours had gone by.

You shifted your gaze over to the window as Joaquin straightened up and tried out the AC unit. It worked like a charm. He nodded and gave the unit a little pat, as though silently congratulating it for working once more.

“So how much do I owe you?” You asked as he turned to face you.

“Nothing, that was easy.”

“That was two hours, I have to give you something.”

He shook his head. “Your company was enough.”

“Come on, let me--”

“Y/N,” he said, taking a step forward. “Your company was worth it, I’m not accepting your money.” He pressed his lips together, looking as though he wanted to say something more when his phone went off. He glanced down at it and sighed. “One sec?” He asked, already swiping to answer the call. “Hey Mom, yeah I -- yeah. Yeah, yes. I can pick that up. You want me to snag one for Grandma, too? No, I just finished fixing up the AC, I -- She’s -- Mom.” You couldn’t tell what was being said, but his cheeks were starting to flush. You could hear laughter on the other end of the line. “Yeah, yeah. I’ve got to go. I’ll see you in a bit.”

You raised a brow. “Your mom?”

“Yeah, she wants me to stop by the store on my way to visit her.” He glanced from you to Darcy and sighed. “I should probably be on my way out.”

Disappointment made itself at home in your chest. “Right, yeah,” you said, heading towards the door. The two of you made your way down the stairs, Darcy following happily behind. When you reached the first floor, you went to lean against the couch. Joaquin had his hands in his jacket pockets as he made it a few steps after you. He stood there, shifting his weight awkwardly from one foot to the other.

“Thank you, seriously. I cannot thank you enough for fixing that,” you said.

He shook his head and grinned softly. “It was no problem, Y/N.” He took a few steps towards the door before turning back to look at you. “I’ll see you around?”

You returned his grin with one of your own. “You’ve got my number.”

His grin grew even wider before he turned and headed out the door. Darcy trotted over to the door after it closed, her eyes tracking his every move as he headed towards the sidewalk. You watched for another second before calling Darcy away from the door. A minute and one treat later, the two of you were cuddled up on the couch. Idly, you switched tabs from Facebook to Tumblr, trying your hardest to avoid thinking about the last couple of hours before you heard your phone go off. Thumbing into your messages, your face instantly lit up.

________________________________________________

Two months later, you found yourself walking towards a small, hole-in-the-wall bar tucked into a sidestreet. Joaquin’s hand on the small of your back as you walked, you trying not to laugh as he gave you what felt like a rundown before one of his missions.

“Just… ignore them if they try to embarrass me, okay? I’m much cooler than whatever they say.”

You laughed. “Are you, though? Are you really?”

“Hey,” he said, giving you an indignant look as he held the door open for you. You stepped inside, taking note of how warm it was inside. People crowded around tables, the low hum of voices occasionally getting louder when the television in the corner showed someone making a basket. Joaquin tapped your shoulder, nodding to the right. “I am very cool, I’ll have you know. Just last week, I –”

“Hey, Torres!” A voice called from a back booth. Joaquin sighed as he stepped in front of you and lead you towards the booth. “Weren’t you the one to say, ‘be there at seven and don’t be late, I really like this girl?’ And you’re what, thirty minutes late?”

“Thirty-two minutes late, by my count,” another voice chimes in as the two of you get closer. You’re already grinning as you note how Joaquin ducked his head.

You lean forward, just close enough so he’ll be able to hear you. “You really like this girl, huh?”

It was difficult to hear his response with his back turned to you, but you watched as his shoulders slumped and caught what sounded like a “not you too.” You tilted your head back and laughed, bright and airy, as you approached the table. Your eyes settled on the two men crowded into the booth, your laugh cutting off as recognition settled in.

He hadn’t said that they were these friends.

“Y/N, we’ve heard a lot about you. Like a lot about you.”

He’d only ever talked about work in the abstract, which made sense. It wasn’t like he could go on, telling you all the details about whatever mission he was on. But he’d spoken of coworkers and even one that had become a friend. But he’d never mentioned names, or the context of things, or…

“Honestly, the kid doesn’t shut up about you.”

Or the fact that they were literal Avengers.

Joaquin groaned. “Can you two—”

Sam Wilson settled back into his seat and grinned as he motioned for you to sit down. “I’m Sam, this is Bucky. It’s good to finally meet you.”

#joaquin torres x reader #joaquin torres fanfic #joaquin torres x you #mcu x reader #joaquin torres #tfatws

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ac3id · 3 years

Text

Plaything | 18+ | part i

plaything 1/ ?? | part 0

pairings: yandere! bully bakugou katsuki x fem! reader

warnings: [series] blackmail, bullying, dubcon/ noncon, filming w/o consent, yandere themes, no quirks au. ALL CHARACTERS ARE ABOVE 18 YEARS OF AGE.

↪ for chapter 1: dubcon, blackmail, humiliation, masturbation, filming w/o consent, boot grinding, a little bit of bakusquad + reader....this is filthy :D

summary: by luck you get enrolled into u.a high the best school in your town. the only catch is that the school is filled with rich, spoilt and powerful brats who just seem to hate you and among them, a certain red eyed blonde dreads you the most

↪ for chapter 1: you bump into bakugou by accident, dropping your vanilla ice cream all over him, you try to apologize and run away but wants more...oh wait why are his friends standing there recording everything too?

wordcount. 4k+

a/n: sooooo, it’s finally out! huge thanks to @sawamooora for proof reading this! helped me out a lot <3 sorry for making u sit through that mess x[

this scene was inspired by that one episode of boys over flowers where the mc’s best friend drops ice cream on the main guy’s shoe and he asks the mc to lick it off...obviously that didn’t happen in the show but it really got me thinking......

alsO the netflix show elite,,, i just saw it and knew,,,,

taglist: @mocha-focha, @erenyeagersbasement , @haribo-pop, @sunshine-fangs, @kuremis, @amazing-fandoms,

dm/ inbox/ comment to be added/ removed.

—navigation

It was a great opportunity. Never in your life would you have thought you’d manage to land a scholarship at the prestigious U.A Private Academy.

The school was a dream, the best in your city, and only affordable for the rich. Graduating from such a school could have helped you with life in so many different ways. Not only would it open doors you could never touch before, but it would help you to form connections which would make your life undoubtedly easier.

Graduating from U.A. was a blessing, but obviously, it did not come easy. It was rather unfortunate. After your previous school building had collapsed, due to some accident, the board announced its year-long closure.

At the time, you were beyond lost and understandably frustrated - it was your last year before college and you simply couldn't risk waiting the year out. The whole situation was nerve-wracking, looking for decent schools which would allow you in.

Honestly, you had no idea what you would’ve done if U.A. hadn’t called you that night.

It was the last day of the summer holidays, a week after your school building had collapsed. Luckily, no one was hurt - but the damage on the campus was severe.

You had been talking to your friends when your mother rushed into your room with exciting news. Apparently, the chairman of U.A was feeling generous. He had decided to offer four excellent students from your school a scholarship to U.A.

You were overjoyed being one of the students along with your two other friends; Shinso Hitoshi and Izuku Midoriya.

At first, the thought was a little scary - going into a completely different world than you were accustomed to. The kids there would be much different than you, you didn't want to be the laughing stock, you didn’t want to be their silly little entertainment... The thought made you nervous, but when your best friend, Izuku, called you the next night explaining how he also won the scholarship; followed by Shinso, you were relieved.

Yes, you were stepping into a whole different world but you at least had your two friends with you.

And that brought you to the first day of school.

You stood outside the huge gates of the even enormous academy all alone shaking in your little, expensive skirt they forced you to wear as the uniform waiting for your friends. You promised the two boys you’d wait for them, and besides, you weren’t planning on entering the building all alone.

Your friends, Shinso and Midoriya, lived close to each other. They were supposed to meet you at the gates of the school that morning, but they were running late. Your anxiety grew the longer you stayed there, with students filling the place- arriving in their fancy cars with their expensive bags and accessories. It easily made you feel out of place.

“Hey,” you heard someone before someone tapped on your shoulder. You quickly turned around to greet the voice. Staring back at you was Uraraka Ochaco.

You remembered she was in your school too, Midoriya has a huge crush on her.

“Yes, Uraraka? Right?” You weren’t close to her, nothing but mere acquaintances. But seeing her face - right here, right now - it made your day.

Uraraka was dressed in the same uniform as you, there was no doubt that she was one of the four kids who won the scholarship. Both of you talked while you implored her to wait for Midoriya and Shinso. You didn’t fail to notice the way her cheeks turned pink when you mentioned Midoriya. The two of them were so obvious.

Your friends arrived, they were late, but they came.

Apparently, there was an accident that forced them to stay back a little longer, but they managed to make it before the first bell.

“I actually have an old friend who goes there now,” Midoriya confesses out of the blue as the four of you enter the gates. You look at him in awe.

During the three years in high school that both of you had spent together, he had never mentioned any friend of his going to the U.A. academy ever.

“Why did you never tell us?” Uraraka asks.

“well, we’re not on good terms. He used to live in the same neighborhood before his parent’s business took off. He left after middle school.” Midoriya says, a slight frown forming on his face.

“Who is he?” Shinso asks.

Midoriya pauses briefly before explaining his entire history with a temperamental and rude blonde. Bakugou Katsuki, he calls him. His childhood friend. But from what you managed to gather, Bakugou was anything but a friend to Midoriya.

Bakugo was once just a simple boy, living a simple life, destined to do great things - but once his parent’s clothing line ‘Dynamite’ blew up and became mainstream, he started drowning in wealth. Bakugo moved out of his old neighborhood at the starting of high school before enrolling in U.A., just like all his rich friends.

“Maybe you should say hi,” Uraraka suggests. Midoriya’s expressions turned sheepish.

“About that…” he started. “I called him yesterday, got his number from mom, and-” he stopped.

“What did he say?” Shinso asked.

“He told me to get lost and die,” Midoriya said with a slight frown on his face, looking down.

That was your first impression of Katsuki Bakugou. For a man you had not even met, you sure loathed him.

School went smoothly for a week, everything was going great. The four of you kept your profile low, didn’t talk until spoken to, kept your distance, and everything was okay.

People often starred and whispered amongst each other when they saw you in the hallways, but that was about it. Everyone seemed to be decent but… there’s always a but.

Everything took a turn for the worse when you managed to piss off the wrong person, Bakugo Katsuki himself.

It was an honest mistake, not even that big of a deal - especially for his standards Yet, for some reason, Bakugo wanted to get under your skin.

It happened after your lunch break, you were on your way back to your classroom with an ice-cream cone fasted tightly in your hands. You mindlessly dashed through the hallways, trying your best to get back to class as fast as possible - you don’t want to be late. It’d earn you a bad reputation. You don’t need that- you don't want anything which could jeopardize your scholarship.

You walked straight and took a turn. Just by fate, you bumped into a stiff, hard chest making you wobble on your feet and sending your ice cream from your hand flying straight to the ground.

“Shit,” you cursed, looking down seeing what you had to work with.

The ice-cream cone splattered on the floor, the white creamy liquid flushed all over the floor along with staining an expensive-looking, black leather boot. A snarl comes from above you along with a group of chuckles. More expensive shoes come into your line of view as you realize you’re not alone.

You slowly bring your gaze up, ogling at who you just pissed off.

Staring back at you is a furious blonde, glaring at you with such intensity that it makes your stomach drop. It’s the infamous Bakugou Katsuki, you don’t want to deal with him.

“I’m sorry, I wasn’t looking where I was going,” you don’t give him a chance to complain as you take your flight. Quickly, you try running away but a large hand grabs your forearm, stopping you dead in your tracks.

You look to the side, deep red eyes stare right back at you.

“Where are you running off to? Don’t you think you owe my friend here a proper apology?” Kirishima says, his grip on your arm growing tighter. He towers over you, his huge body trapping you with intimidation.

Going to U.A for over a week there’s a thing or two that you’ve learned about the rich, snobby brats who own the school. Not everyone is bad, a few of them are actually but the rest are just bad.

Bakugou was the worst. From how Midoriya described him, you knew for a fact he’d be a horrible person. But hell, he managed to prove himself even worse.

He was crude, mean, downright arrogant, and ignorant. Always screaming unasked opinions on top of his lungs, and gets mad whenever someone disagrees. He acts like the world revolves around him.

Bakugo had a bunch of friends who he called his “followers” and they weren’t any better.

They just watched while Bakugou ruined everything, they were there to support him.

Kirishima Eijirou the redhead, he was captain of the football team. He was a jock, brawns over brains kind of person. Girls cooed over him and his overly attractive, hot body. It looked as if he was sculpted by God himself.

Next was Kaminari Denki. He was in the school band, dating the lead singer. And yet, he managed to find time to flirt with other girls. He was the goofball of the group, dumb and stupid But he always knew what he was doing. Even though it was barely noticeable, you could always see a devious glint in those amber eyes of his.

Sero Hanta was famous for a lot of reasons. Most notably for having brought illegal drugs on the campus and skipping classes to go down to his junkie hangout spot to smoke weed. The man had no shame. Sometimes, he’d walk into the classrooms high as fuck. The teachers couldn’t do anything even if they tried, his parents practically owned the school; he owned the school. There was no going against the tall, lanky man who looked like he couldn’t even smash a bug. He held the most power and his friends sure knew how to abuse it.

Last but not least was Mina Ashido. The one and only girl member of the self-proclaimed ‘bakusquad’. Sometimes, Jirou Kyouka, the lead singer of the school, would hang out with the boys and her boyfriend, but she wasn’t a permanent member. Mina was.

In your opinion, Mina was a nightmare dressed like a daydream. With her short, pink hair and bright smile, she seemed like an angel. But she was the devil. Worse than even Bakugou, perhaps.

She knew everything about everyone, she had leverage galore: screenshots ready to leak, videos ready to ruin lives. She had them all, and frankly- she scared you the most.

Kirishima pushed you back, and Bakugo caught you by your shoulders.

“That was fucking rude,” he growled, biting his fingers into your shoulder blades tight and hard making you squeal. “Are you fucking blind or something? Fucking extra.”

“I said I’m sorry, let me go will you?” Even in such a terrifying situation, you try to remain calm.

“What do you think, Sero?” Kaminari began. Your heart sank, including Sero into anything was never a good sign.

“She ruined Bakugou’s new shoes,” he continued. Bakugou’s hold on you tightened and you winced, turning back to him and returning his glare.

“Okay, what do you want?” you give in, finally. A mischievous spark lights up in his crimson eyes as flashes a cocky smirk to his friends before turning back to you with a frown. He pushes you towards Mina and she catches you with an arm around your shoulder.

“Those were expensive, right?” she looks at you and then back at Bakugou. He grunts, nodding.

“Fuck yes, I’m pissed as hell. Some fucking extra managed to ruin it.”

You look back down to steal a glance at his heavy, leather boot. The small, white stain melted away.

“What will you do to make up for it?” Mina whispers your name and you cringe. They were teasing you. For their fun, they were making fun of you.

“What can I do?” you say, sarcastically. Prying yourself away from her hold. The crowd goes dead silent before speaking. Sero is the first one to talk.

“Lick it off.”

There’s a pause, no one speaks. Your stomach drops and your face pales at the look the five of them are giving you- it’s serious. Dead serious.

Kaminari bursts out laughing followed by Sero and the others. The four of them get a great laugh but Bakugou stares at you head-on with his grave expressions burning through your soul.

“Whatcha looking at? Do it,” he commands.

The laughing dies down and Kaminari speaks, “are you serious? You want her to lick your shoe,” he can’t control his laughter, a chuckle breaks with every word.

“Yes, I’m fucking serious. Besides, Sero recommended it,” he smirks. “Do you really want to say no to him? I don’t know so much about this but-“ he leans down close to your face, his lips ghosting the shell of your ear, “it might complicate your scholarship.”

There’s a twisted rhythm in his voice. He’s enjoying tormenting you. You still want to believe that they’re just messing around. That they’ll have their laughs and let you go, but the way Sero stares at you says otherwise.

“You don’t wanna do it?” Bakugou asks.

“Of course she doesn’t! That’s gross, oh my god.” Mina exclaims, earning a chuckle from the rest of the boys.

“Hey, let’s hear it from Sero himself.” Kirishima pats Sero’s back, pushing him forward. The five of them have circled around you, coiling you inside their venomous nest with you in the center. You turn to Sero with pleading eyes, looking up at his huge form, begging.

He smirks looking down at you, you look so tiny beneath bim. He wants to mess with you, even more, you look like a nice toy to him. He wants to play with it until he can’t.

“I guess, I did say that-” your blood runs cold, heartbeat picking up in nervousness. “-but you don’t need to do it.” He finishes. Your face lights up while the others groan in disappointment. Bakugou looks livid.

“Just know that, you’re the one who dropped the ice cream on Bakugou’s shoe and now you’re not even helping him out. That’s not very noble, is it? I don’t know if I even by mistake slipped that info back home- my parents might reconsider whether you truly deserve to be here or not. They don’t really like disrespectful kids who comprise the school’s name.”

Sero ends his speech with a wide, ear-to-ear grin, followed by a pat to your head.

“The choice is yours.”

You pause for a moment and think. Where they were really going to make you do it, where they were really going to humiliate you like this. They were. But were you willing to do it?

From Sero’s threat, you could tell he was serious, this was legit.

It wouldn’t have been the first time the school expelled someone who had beef with Sero, and it certainly wouldn’t be the last. They don’t care about anyone but their loving son. They wouldn’t even think once before expelling you.

“What’s your answer, princess?” Kirishima teases.

Mina and Kaminari once again break into fits of laughter.

“What do you mean? She doesn’t have a choice here, kneel you extra.” Your heart hammers in your chest as Bakugou gestures you to kneel. You stop for a second, breathing unevenly- thinking. After a long, thoughtful sigh, you answer.

“No, I am not going to do it.” Your voice is meek yet clear. Even though you’re trembling under the heavy gazes of five snakes, you choose to stand your ground.

Bakugou glaring at you while the others boo.

“Aw, c’mon you don’t mean that.”

“Don’t be a little brat.”

Bakugou stays silent while the others continue to throw insults at you - calling you names and trying to make you regret your decision. You look straight forward into Bakugou’s cold, red eyes, searching for his next move. Your heart beats even harder in your chest with increased anxiety. After watching your torment for more than a few minutes, Bakugo decides he’s had enough of this game.

“Hey, shitty hair,” Bakugo starts. “Punch me.”

“What?” Kirishima asks, vividly shaken. “Why do you want me to hit you, Bakubro?”

“Punch me real hard, give me a black eye.” The confusion grows greater on everyone’s faces. You stare at him in awe, wondering what angle was trying to play.

Kirishima raises his hands in defense. “Woah, dude slow down there. I’m not just going to punch you.”

Bakugou clicks the roof of his tongue, letting out a sound of irritation. “You all are just dumb,” he starts.

“Imagine if this punny, little,” he leans down closer to you till his lips touch your ears and whispers your name with a crude chuckle. “Were to drop all her food over me, not apologize, punch and me then run away, that’d bring her into a whole world of trouble. Wouldn’t it?”

Bakugo’s words are calculated and sly, he knows exactly what he’s getting at when he starts. His voice fills you up with dread as he makes his accusations public.

“She would be expelled on spot and Kacchan could also raise charges,” Kaminari adds.

Your eyes widen in fear.

“Yeah, I’ll fucking do that.” Mina giggles. “That would succck,” she cheers. Your lower lip quivers as you stare at them in disbelief, your eyes open wide only to be covered with fear.

“Hey, c’mon, why are you doing this to me?” You feel them inch closer to you, their warmth leeching onto you the longer you stay surrounded by them.

“Because you have no fucking manners.” Bakugou snarls.

“Kiri, punch him. What are you waiting for? If you don’t wanna do it I will!” Kaminari cries, growing impatient.

Kirishima laughs before he charges Bakugou. Your heart hammers in your chest.

You think about your family, your future, and how disappointed everyone would be with you. Your dreams and aspirations, all were rooted in this school.

It was honestly sad, pathetic even. Your entire future was just a joke to these spoiled kids. These kids who could control you, and everyone else, with just a flick of their fingers. It’s unfortunate, but that’s the price to pay for a piece of the beautiful cake known as U.A... You resign yourself to your fate.

A piece of your mind.

“N-no, don’t do that. I-I’ll do it,” you murmured, your voice timid and weak. The five paused looking at each other with an ominous glint in their eyes. Bakugou was the first to speak.

“Well, then fucking get on with it. On your knees.” Obediently like a trained puppy, you got down onto your knees, not letting your eyes fall from Bakugou’s face. His red, fierce eyes barked at you with an unknown look, keeping you lost.

“Holy shit, she’s actually doing this,” Mina squealed watching you lean forward, bringing your face next to Bakugou’s expensive boots.

“Kaminari, record this.” Sero taps at the energetic blonde, forcing him to take his phone out and hit ‘record’. As you lean further to the ground, your short skirt rides up behind you, giving the audience a clear view of your round ass and pastel panties. The sight brings a smile to Bakugou’s face as he scoffs.

“Cute panties,” he remarks.

You jerk, trying desperately to sit back, but Bakugo stops you. Smashing his other foot on top of your shoulder, he holds you there facing the ground.

“Don’t. You. Dare.” he growls.

You squirm, almost falling under his weight and as much you hate to admit it, a tingle of excitement runs down your spine. This was turning you on.

A row of whistles flood in, the boys start teasing you and praising Bakugou.

“Lick it off,” he commands.

You look down at his leather boot, the ice cream almost melted. There’s still a bright white spot of the sweet now liquid splayed out. Even though it’s not a lot, it still makes you cringe. You peek your shy, little tongue out timidly, forcing yourself to do the heinous deed.

Bakugou watches you hesitate and pushes on your shoulder harder making you reach towards him.

You give in after a final attempt, diving into his wishes. Your wet tongue touches the rough, cold leather. You cringe after a single touch, closing your eyes and scrunching your nose at the salty taste. “Clean it all off,” he commands.

You dive back in, this time letting your tongue glide across a larger portion. The humiliation burns through your body. It makes you uncomfortably hot, mostly from anger and but a little bit of arousal.

“Nice ass.”

There it is. The excitement comes back the moment they start making suggestive comments, the attention riles you up and it’s horrible.

“Kaminari are you even supposed to be here? Don’t you have a girlfriend?” Mina asks at the blonde pervert who was currently zooming on your ass.

“Oh? We’re cool as long as I don’t stick my dick her,” he points to you. “That’s hella fucking tempting but I’m in love, dude.” He chuckles to himself, thinking about his girlfriend.

They treat you like an object, talking about you like you were some sort of a toy.

“Bet her pussy is tight,” Sero says.

Kirishima turns to Bakugou, looking at him with pleading eyes. “Yo, Bakubro, can we touch her?”

Bakugou looks on from watching you lick his boot and turns to Kirishima. A dark, unsettling gaze falls across his eyes as he speaks, “No. This one is mine.” he stares down at you.

You stop lapping on his shoe and stand back on your knees, buckling your knees you try to get up but Bakugou harshly kicks your shoulder, throwing you back and making you cry.

“Why did you do that?” you squeal, holding onto your bruised shoulder, glaring at him intently.

The rest of the group goes quiet at the display of Bakugou’s sudden violence.

He stands between your thighs, lazily resting his foot atop of your soft thighs.

“You’re fucking pathetic, you know that?” the angle you were spread out in had your skirt flipped over hips, displaying your pretty, pastel panties to everyone in the room.

Even though it’s subtle, masked by everyone’s fear of what Bakugou was planning, you still feel everyone’s gaze focused right on you and more specifically at your clothed cunt. Bakugou presses hard on your thigh making you cry.

“Useless Deku’s friends are just like him. The fucking second you walked in here, I knew you were just another useless insect for me to stomp on.” He pauses, smirking, pressing his foot onto you even harder, twisting his ankle to increase the burning sting surging across your right thigh. “And I’m doing just that.”

He steps off you for a moment, letting you catch your breath and recover from the burn. His eyesight travels lower down to your panties. He admires the cute pair you had on. Normally when he’d see girls naked, they’d dress themselves up the most luxurious to match his standards. But that’s not you, that could never be you.

He rejoices at the thought of seeing your flushed, tear-stained face breaking down under him. You’ll never be like those girls, always a step behind. He can build you up and break you however he likes, you’d have no say in it.

The power trip drives him crazy.

He presses the tip of his boot over your clothed clothed cunt, pushing the hard material right over your sensitive clit.

You gasp at the feeling, looking up at him with terrified eyes. He smirks down at you, moving his foot in a steady rhythm, rubbing the fabric of your cotton panties against your little pearl.

“This turning you on? What a freak.” The rest of his group basks in shock. They watch intently as the scene spiraled out for them, too captivated to make any comments. They just keep quiet and stare.

The way you squirm under Bakugou as he plays with your cute clit so unforgivingly makes them hot with excitement. Kaminari feels a little guilty but he blames it on his nature as a man.

Sero feels a little bad for you, they all do. But then again they wouldn’t waste the opportunity to be in Bakugou’s footsteps- literally.

“You’re a little slut, you know that?” Bakugou sneers.

Your gasps turn into whimpers as his simulation becomes harder. You clench your fists, desperately wishing it to be over. Tears brim in your eyes at the sheer humiliation of your corrupted form. This was just too much, too much for you to handle.

“Please, stop,” you beg, knowing he wouldn't listen. “I’ll report you,” you cry. A roar of laughter starts, shutting you up.

“Go for it, you do that.” Mina comments. Kaminari walks closer to you, bringing the camera down to your face recording your horrified expressions.

“We’ll just go ahead and post this online.” he threatens.

A drop of tear falls down your waterline following a waterfall. You cry, leave all of your dignity behind and cry. You beg them to stop but as your pleas mix with your moans, it’s hard for anyone to understand what you’re saying. It’s not like they don’t know what you’re asking them for, they just turn deaf, simply because they can.

Bakugou stops, he takes a step back, leaving you alone. You let out the tiniest cry when he leaves, ditching you just when you need his touch the most.

“Feels like I’m doing too much of the work, if you want it so bad, do this yourself.” He says. Your body still burns with desire, your clit still hard and cunt salivating, you are nowhere close to being done...

It’s as if something takes over and you are possessed by the dire need to cum, you do exactly as he says.

You snake your fingers down your panties, deliberately rubbing on your swollen little clit before pushing your finger into your drenched cunt. You cry out as you clench around your finger, the pleasure becoming unbearable. Your legs shake and you close your eyes shut.

You stay there on the floor, fingering yourself in the corridor, without any shame, while Kaminari records all of it.

“She’s gonna give me a hard-on,” Kirishima says and you moan.

“She really is a slut, huh?” Sero comments.

“She’s cute,” Mina adds with a smile.

Bakugou scoffs, “does Deku know how much of a whore you are?” He asks.

You don’t pay any attention to what he says, too busy bringing yourself to your climax.

“You’re getting all this right?” Mina looks over Kaminari’s shoulder and onto the phone screen which captures you beautifully losing yourself for everyone to see.

“You close?” Bakugou asks as you feel yourself clench around fingers tightly, he bends down on his and pulls your panties down your hips, admiring your precious cunt.

“Cute pussy,” he remarks before flicking your sensitive, hardened clit.

A rush of pleasure washes down your body as you cry while cumming. Bakugou pushes you right over the edge, a nasty grin screaming atop his face as he watches you. You curse at yourself for letting him see you like this, but there’s not much you can do but cry while you feel your juices gush around you before sliding down your thighs and onto the dirty floor.

It takes a second for you to calm down and when you do come to your senses, dread fills you up. Tears shamelessly fall down your face as you realize what you just did. The others laugh at you, without feeling any remorse.

Bakugou continues to stare at you with an unsettling look, while the others discuss the heinous crime you’ve just committed.

Sero looks down at you and you catch his dark eyes staring at you. A toothy grin scavenges his face as he speaks.

“Awesome,” he says as if he just finished some mediocre movie.

Finally, you find the courage to get up and run.

This was totally not awesome.

806 notes · View notes

yourmcu · 3 years

Text

Forgotten [DISCONTINUED]

Pairings: Tony Stark x daughter!reader, Peter Parker x Stark!reader (platonic)

Request:

Word count: 1,627

A/n: (to anon: I’d like to apologize for not finishing this) I don’t think I have any intention to anymore tbh so- I’m just posting this for fun now lmaolmao

hella big update: the continued version is here!

Warnings: bad angst and writing hee hee. no I’m serious this is bad

gif not mine! credits to the owner^^