#The other teachers keep stopping Steve in the hall and asking if he has a hallpass | Explore Tumblr Posts and Blogs

aprilclementine · 2 years

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part 2 of history teacher steve and art teacher eddie.

part 1 / part 3

When Steve made his way back to his room, Mr.Munson was waiting, propped up against the door, until he noticed Steve bounding down the hallway. "Sorry, I didn't mean to keep you waiting, Mr.Munson."

"Eddie, call me Eddie." Eddie smiled, and Steve fumbled with his keys, because why were his hands suddenly clammy?

"Eddie." Steve repeated, finally getting his classroom door open. "You can call me, Steve."

"Where do you run off to for lunch? I came over here after my fourth period, hoping we could've grabbed lunch together too." Eddie questioned, as he moved through Steve's room, observing the work on the walls.

Steve willed the heat creeping up his face away, as he took a seat at one of the desks in the middle of the room, map of the school in hand. "I normally have lunch in the band room, with the music teacher, Ms.Buckley."

Eddie paused, looking at Steve over his shoulder. "Oh? Is Ms.Buckley your.."

Steve snorted, shaking his head. "She's just my roommate, and her chairs are more comfortable than the staff lounge."

Eddies shoulder dropped slightly, and he turned on his heel to sit in front of Steve now. Eddie propped his elbows on the table, scanning Steves face with a mischevious grin. "Noted, if I ever need an embarassing story on you for blackmail, I shall call Ms.Buckley."

Steve feigned hurt, placing his hand on his chest. "What would you ever need to blackmail me for?"

"I'm not sure yet, but I've got my eye on you, golden boy." Eddie grimaced playfully, raising two fingers at eye level, before moving them in Steve’s direction.

Steve shook his head, and rolled his eyes at the nickname. "Whatever you say, Munson. Now, do you want the rundown of this place or not?"

"Oh, do tell, Stevie, do tell." Eddie rested his chin on his hands now, leaning closer over the desk.

"Okay, so," Steve started, pushing the paper towards Eddie, watching his eyes move across the paper. "We are here," he marked the paper using his red correcting pen, with a star between his and Eddie's rooms. Eddie nodded, watching Steve's hand move over the paper. "Ms.Buckley, Robin, my roommate, is in this far off corner."

"That room is huge." Eddie commented, looking at the scale of it compared to the others. "Does she just teach marching band? What kind of instruments does she have?"

"Mmm, it's not just marching band, theres percussion, and beginners band where she hosts students from the middle school, she has music theory, and just last year she started a course for students that want to learn how to play guitar. Do you play anything?" Steve questioned.

Eddie nodded proudly, "Sure do, my friends and I started a band when we were in middle school, and played all the way til we graduated."

Steve tilted his head in interest, giving him a smile, "You should show me your skills sometime." Holy shit, why did he say that?

Eddie raised his brows at Steve. "Oh yeah? Are you interested, Harrington?" Holy shit, why did he say it like that?

"I mean- I mean like show me and Robin. Yeah, we would, we would like to see." Steve began, eyes darting back towards the paper, "Hey, did you know the Olympics used to actually award medals for art?" Steve breathed out quickly, trying to steady his heart rate. "From 1912 to 1948, they gave out medals for sculptures, paintings, and music!" Steve continued to ramble, using his hands to emphasize his point. "The art had to be Olympic-themed, of course, and-" Steve stopped himself, feeling the heat evident on his face, under Eddie's amused gaze. "Sorry," Steve cleared his throat before he continued, "across the hall from us is Ms.Wheeler, she teaches English. She's great, very kind, and the students highly respect her."

Eddie nodded along, taking his bottom lip between his teeth to hide his wide grin, following Steve’s finger as it moved along the map, “At the end of this hall is Argyle, and don’t ask me for his last name, since he started he insisted everyone just call him by his first name. He’s the science teacher. Next to his room, is Mr.Byers, he’s the math teacher for our hall.”

Eddie leaned over the paper some more, to try and get a mental image of where each class is, tongue darting between his lips as he tried to concentrate.

Steve picked up on Eddies confusion as he squinted at the map. "C'mon, I have a feeling you’re more of a visual learner." Steve offered, as he stood from his seat. Eddie nodded wordlessly, letting Steve usher him out of his classroom.

-E-

Eddie and Steve walked down the empty hallways, as Steve pointed out a couple classrooms to him. Eddie waited behind Steve, as he knocked on Ms.Wheelers door. Eddie could hear the crisp click-clack of her heels, as she made her way to the door. She opened the door, face relaxing when she seen it was only the two. "How can I help you, Mr.Harrington?"

"I hope we weren't interrupting anything too important, I wanted to introduce you to the new art teacher." Steve stepped aside, so Eddie could step forward and offer his hand to her.

Nancy gave him a warm smile, shaking his hand. "Ms.Wheeler, but you can call me Nancy, well, as long as there's no student around." She added.

"Eddie Munson, and you can call me either, Mr.Munson feels a little too formal to me. Still getting used to it." Eddie said with a scrunch of his nose.

Nancy glanced at Steve, with a teasing smile on her face. "Another Argyle on our hands, I see."

Steve laughed at the comment, so Eddie assumed he should too. "It was nice meeting you, Eddie, I'm usually in the staff lounge for lunch if you ever want to talk." Nancy waved as the two walked away from her room.

"Next, we'll see Mr.Byers." Steve added, as he ushered Eddie down the hall. Steve gave a crisp knock on the door, waiting patiently with his hands behind his back. Mr.Byers opened the door, looking between the two of them. "Hey, what’s up?."

Steve repeated the same speech he gave Nancy, stepping aside to let Eddie step forward and introduce himself. Steve waved to Jonathan, as the two took a left to continue down the hall to Argyle's room. Steve knocked again, waiting for Argyle with a smile. "This guy's smile is so contagious," Steve leaned back to speak to Eddie.

Eddie nodded, and watched as the door opened, Argyle listened deeply to Steve, who motioned towards Eddie. Argyle turned his attention to Eddie now, clasping Eddie's hand between both of his, with a soft shake. "So nice to meet you, man. Come by during lunch some time, and I’ll introduce you to my bearded dragon too." Eddie grinned, holding his gaze, and repeating the same introduction he gave to Nancy and Johnathan.

Argyle brought two fingers up to his head, and gave Eddie and Steve some type of saulte as they left, easy smile still on his face.

Steve continued down the school halls with Eddie, now practically shoulder to shoulder. Eddie had to pretend his entire body wasn't screaming at the contact. Steve is his coworker after all. "We're making our way to the music room now, I'll show you where the staff lounge is on the way over." Steve continued as they made their way through the lunch room together. Steve pointing out their emergency exit route, and where the staff lounge is tucked away at. "If we have time I'll show you my trick on how to unjam the copy machine." Steve leaned into Eddies to whisper. Eddie was so sure Steve could see the obvious color rushing to his cheeks.

Steve held open the door to the staff lounge for Eddie, Eddie walked around the room, observing the decorated bulletin boards. Eddie's eyes gravitated towards a picture of Steve during spirit week, posing in front of his room door, dressed in a navy blue sailor uniform, red neckerchief tied loosely around his neck, red and white striped shirt underneath.

Eddies snort caught Steves attention. Steve moved closer, standing behind Eddie, following his gaze until it landed on the picture of himself. "Oh God, I can't believe they still have this one up." Steve groaned, face flushing.

Eddie laughed at his expense. leaning in closer to the board to really get a good look, trying not to zone in on the way Steves arms looked, as he crossed them over his chest in the picture.

"I lost a bet with Robin my first year, and she made me wear an embarassing old work uniform during spirit week, from a job we had back in college." Steve explained, trying to avoid Eddies gaze. "I bet she's the one that makes sure this photo stays up, at least it’s not the one where she made me wear the hat that goes along with the uniform."

"Why did you still have the uniform?" Eddie teased, scanning the board, trying to find more pictures with Steve in them.

"Believe it or not, it's because the uniform shorts, fit me better than any pair of shorts I've ever owned." Steve joined in on the laughter, face still flushed.

Eddie frowned playfully as he turned back to Steve. "This picture only shows your waist up! I was robbed of the full experience."

“Shut up, Munson.” Steve shoved him softly, smiling before returning his gaze back to the board, and grabbing Eddie's attention as he pointed to another picture. "Naturally, I had to up my game my second year." Eddies gaze stayed on the photo, not sure he could look Steve in the eyes after seeing this one. Steve was dressed as Tom Cruise in the Risky Business movie. The form-fitting black blazer, paired with the Ray-Bans, and his charming smile, Eddie was sure his face was just as red as Steve’s now.

"Get it? I'm Tom Cruise in Risky Business." Steve smiled, as Eddie turned to him. Steve stepped away from Eddie, bringing up his closed fist to his mouth, before he began, "Just take those old records off the shelf," Steve threw his head back dramatically as he sang, before continuing with a soft head bang to enunciate the lyrics. "I sit and listen to them by myself." By this point, Steve had cut himself off with his own laughter.

Eddie had to put his face in his hands to hide his flushed cheeks, as he laughed. "Aw, c'mon it's not that bad of an impression, is it? Robin thinks I kind of look like him? What do you think?" Eddie looked up through his hands, as Steve took off his glasses, and slowly turned his head from side-to-sides.

Eddie bit back his smile, nodding in agreement, he's starting to reconsider how good this job will be for his health, if his heart rate is going to be beating this fast every time Steve’s around.

Steve beamed at him, coming around the table in the middle, and holding the door open for Eddie again. "We'll come back to the printer another day, sorry I got distracted, we gotta get to Robin's class before the bell."

Eddie followed Steve, as they walked down the hall again, Steve explaing that she was teaching her guitar class right now. Steve knocked, waiting patiently, he shot a quick reassuring grin back to Eddie, before the door opened. "Dude, couldn't you wait til the ride home to tell me how it went with-"

Steve was quick to cut the woman off, with a frantic hand, before he stepped to the side, putting Eddie in view. Eddie watched curiously, as the two seemed to have a conversation with their eyes, before the womans gaze landed on him. She held out her hand to Eddie, her stare intense, as she shook his hand. "Robin Buckley, nice to meet you."

"Eddie Munson, I'm the new art teacher." he gave her his warmest smile, out of all the people he met today, he knew this ones approval mattered. "I have a question for you, Buckley."

Robin raised a brow, her face pulling together in confusion. "What is it?"

"I was wondering if you had any more pictures of Steve in that sailor uniform." Eddie asked with a mischevious grin growing across his face. "I'd love to see them."

Robins face softened, as she mirrored his expression. "I actually have one of us on our first day at ol' Scoops Ahoy, right on my desk-"

"Okay, okay, this was such a bad idea. Don't you have a class to teach, Buckley?" Steve cut in, pulling Eddie away by his shoulder, face flushed in embarrassment.

Eddie and Robin laughed at Steve’s expression, Eddie waving to Robin. "We'll continue this conversation another time." Eddie called out to her, as the two continued back to their rooms.

"I have a whole album on my phone worth of embarassing photos of Harrington, call me if you need anything!" Robin shot back, before closing the door.

Steve and Eddie stayed by their room doors talking until the bell rang. "Thanks for the tour, golden boy." Eddie smirked, bumping Steves shoulder. "And, for the serenade, never knew how badly I wanted to be Rebecca De Mornay." Eddie added with a hand over his heart, jokingly.

Steve waved a dismissive hand, bashful smile adorning his face. "Happy to help," Steve continued as he pushed off his door, "the serenade was part of the VIP Tour package."

Eddie laughed softly, fiddling with his classroom keys. "I hope I'm the only one that's been able to afford the VIP Tour package, Harrington."

"Trust me, Munson, it's one of a kind." Steve replied, reaching for his own classroom keys now. "One of a kind, much like your teaching style."

"Hey, getting on tables really gets their attention, you should try it sometime, Harrington." Eddie defended, as Steve stepped fully into his classroom, and Eddie could still hear his laugh.

-S-

Steve waited patiently outside Robins door after school, twirling his car keys. Robin came out shortly after, bounding down the halls with Steve in tow. The two made it to Steve’s car, Robin ranting about her new students, and just buzzing with excitement about the new year ahead. "Alright, Steve-o, spill."

Steve rolled his eyes, shaking his head. "He seen the Scoops picture, so he mustve seen the Tom Cruise picture too, right?" Robin inquired. Steve nodded slowly, knowing her next question already.

"Steve, please tell me you didn't do Risky Business." Robin pleaded, eyes wide with anticipation, as she awaited Steve’s answer. Steve let his head rest against the steering wheel. Whispering his reply so quietly Robin couldn't pick up on it. "I can't hear you, Stevie."

Steve blew out an exasperated breath he had been holding in. "I did Risky Business."

"Steve, oh my god." Robin burst with a load laugh, swatting at the air, as Steve grumbled about how it 'always worked in college'.

***

ahhhhhh sorry it took so long, i have part three ready to go later tonight, or tomorrow afternoon. anyways, there's about thirty pages of this fic so far sitting on my laptop, and i'm working on getting it to ao3 but this is my first time ever participating in like fandom things? so its taking me a little longer to get used to consistent posts, and responding to comments and tags. BUT!!! i love seeing your thoughts and tags and comments they all mean so much thank u thank u thakn u <333 -i'll fix any errors int he morning-

(also i hoped i tagged everyone that wanted to be tagged, i never mind doing tags :D )

taglist: @little-gae-shit @ineffablecolors @menace-behaviour @hardboiledleggs @toobluebrunette @bye-zai @panicatthediaz @munsonsduchess @thing-a-ling @swimmingbirdrunningrock @jestyzesty @cutepumpkin4 @flustratedcas @teelagurl558 @electrick-marionnett @beckkthewreck @alienace @shinekocreator @lifeisnotsobadonceyoustopcaring @bidisastersworld @gay-little-bitch @booksandsience @korixae @afewproblems @henderdads @mightbeasleep @winterbuckwild @yournowheregirl @steveisabicon @milf-harrington

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ladykailitha · 2 years

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Can Anybody See Me? Part 11

This one is a bit angsty. Steve has a panic attack, so if that bothers you, you can skip it. It’s just a soft interlude with Eddie and Steve. And of course a bit recreational drug use. Also every school needs an urban legend or ghost story.

Part 1 Part 2 Part 3 Part 4 Part 5 Part 6 Part 7 Part 8 Part 9 Part 10

Steve loved drama and the play. He did not love his pottery class. The teacher Mr Lovett had taken an instant dislike to the fact that Steve had joined his class half way through the first semester and therefore missed all the fundamentals.

And worse Mrs Hall refused to let him change it at the start of the new semester. So he was stuck in a class he knew nothing about, where the teacher hated him, the other students ignored him, and he was pretty sure he was failing.

“Look,” Steve told Mrs Hall. “I just want to know if I fail pottery if I’m still going to graduate. That’s it and then I will be out of your hair until graduation. I swear it.”

Mrs Hall sighed and went looking through her file on him, clicking her tongue as she thumbed through his transcripts.

“If pass all your other classes and get above a C+ in drama, you should still graduate,” she said after several minutes of cold silence.

Steve sighed in relief. Those involved with the play were given automatic passing grades, so as long he did the other assignments, he was on track to graduate.

“Thank you, Mrs Hall.”

He stood up and began to walk to the door when she called out to him.

“Mr Harrington,” Mrs Hall said, “I know boys will do whatever they want, but please stay away from Edmond Munson. That boy and his little cult of Satanic worshiping D&D lovers will only cause you further ostracization of your peers.”

Steve blinked. “I beg your pardon, ma’am, but before Eddie took me under his wing, I was friendless and alone”

Mrs Hall tutted. “Better to be friendless and alone than to be caught up in a cult.”

He frowned in confusion and hurt. “Are you going to tell my parents?”

“I should,” she sneered. “But I could get into a lot of trouble if I do, so I will stay out of it. You only have a few more months of school anyway. But know that I will keep my eyes on you.” She wagged her finger at him and then shooed him away.

Steve ran to the bathroom and slammed the stall door shut. He forced himself to breathe like Eddie taught him, but he couldn’t get his breath under control. He heard someone enter and start pissing.

Steve tried to keep quiet but his breathing made it hard. There was the sound of running water and suddenly he couldn’t hear anything else. It was like water rushing around his head. He let out a strangled cry, thinking that whoever was out there had gone.

But he was wrong.

“Hey, is there someone in here?” Eddie asked.

Steve let out another sob but this time in relief.

“Steve?” Eddie whispered.

He tried to get a word out, but all that came was wordless gurgling.

“Shit!”

Steve could hear Eddie run out the door and the relief he felt crumbled to dust. He started sobbing and couldn’t stop.

“Steve?” Eddie’s voice came again. “Hey, sweetheart, can you open the door for me?”

Steve struggled for a moment or two before he managed to get the door latch free for the door swing open. He stumbled out, right into Eddie’s arms.

Eddie managed to keep them upright but barely. “Holy shit, are you okay?”

Steve shook his head.

“Hey, hey,” Eddie cooed. “I’ve gotcha, big boy.” He led them over them to sit on the floor.

“Aren’t you worried someone’s gonna come in?” Steve asked after a moment of just sitting in silence.

“Nah!” Eddie said with a grin. “I put out the ‘Out of Order’ sign. We’ll be good for a while.”

Steve frowned for a moment. “So that’s where you ran off to.”

Eddie raised an eyebrow and then the other shot up to join it. “Did you think that I ran out on you?”

Steve curled in on himself. “Everyone else does.”

“Except your kids,” Eddie pointed out. “And except me. Okay?” He put his arm around him and drew him close. “You want to talk about what happened just now?”

“I had my meeting with Mrs Hall,” Steve mumbled.

“Yeah?” Eddie said. “She let you out of pottery?”

Steve shook his head. “She still refuses. I think she’s in cahoots with Mr Lovett to my senior year as miserable as possible.”

Eddie tucked Steve’s head under his chin. “That’s just bullshit, sweetheart. I’m sorry this year has been so bad for you.”

Steve was quiet for a moment. He raised his head to look Eddie in the eye. “And then she had the gall to suggest that being friends with you was worse than being alone.”

Eddie’s eyes went wide. “She did what?”

Steve nodded. “If it didn’t mean detention and the possibility of not being able to graduate on time, I would have told her fuck off.”

Eddie kissed the top of Steve’s head. “I am a bad influence on you, you know.”

Steve chuckled. “Don’t care. I think you and your friends were the first people to like me for me instead of the Harrington name.”

Eddie grinned. “What the matter, Stevie? Don’t like being a Harrington?”

He shook his head. “Hell no, I’d change if I could.”

“How about Munson?” Eddie teased.

Steve laughed out right. “I think you skipped twelve steps there. At least buy me dinner first.”

Eddie blushed as Steve lowered his head on his shoulder and sighed.

“I should get back to class,” he murmured, “but I don’t think I can face other people right now.”

“So don’t,” Eddie said, standing up. He pulled Steve to his feet. “Come on, you and I are playing hooky!”

“Eddie!” Steve laughed, but let him pull him along.

They got out to Eddie’s van, breathless and giggling.

“Where to?” Steve asked as he yanked open the passenger side door.

Eddie just grinned. “I know just the place.”

They started driving and Steve could feel the weight of the world lift from his shoulders the farther they got from the high school.

“Thanks for the assist, Eds,” he said softly. “It’s nice knowing people care.”

Eddie shook his head. “Don’t thank me for being a decent human being, man. It’s embarrassing.”

Steve laughed. “Still a nice feeling.”

They drove the rest of the way in silence. They got out to Lover’s Lake and to a nice boat house.

“I know the owner,” Eddie said. “So sometimes I like to come out here and think. Just look at the water and let it take away all my troubles.”

Steve sat there and listened to the wind on the water.

Eddie pulled out a pack of cigarettes from somewhere. “You smoke?”

Steve nodded and took one off of him.

Eddie patted his coat and pants, cigarette dangling from his lips. “Shit. I think I left my lighter out in the van.”

Steve dug into his pocket and pulled out his Zippo. He lit Eddie’s cigarette first and then his own.

“Thanks, man,” Eddie said.

Steve shrugged. “Not a problem. You provided the smoke, I provided the light.”

Eddie huffed out a laugh. “Fair enough.”

They sat there in comfortable silence for a while.

“You know, it’s forced conformity that made Mrs Hall who she is,” Eddie said.

“What’s that?” Steve asked.

“You must have missed some of my table rants, then.”

Steve shook his head. “I try not stare at pretty boys when they’re drawing attention to themselves. It makes the whole not straight thing a little more obvious. Especially since that was something I knew wasn’t what straight boys did.”

Eddie leaned into his space. “You think I’m pretty, Harrington?”

Steve fobbed him off with his elbow. “You know you are, man. You don’t need me to say it.”

“Joke’s on you, pretty boy,” Eddie cooed. “Flattery works on me.”

Steve blushed and ducked his head. “Duly noted.”

Eddie cackled.

After they finished their cigarettes, Eddie went digging around the boat house.

“Ah ha!” he said triumphantly, holding up a bag of weed. “You partake, Stevie?”

Steve rolled his eyes. “I have been to a Tommy H party at least once or twice in my life.”

“Ahhh...” Eddie sighed happily. “One of my best customers.”

Steve giggled. “You got any papers to roll or are we just going to light it on fire and try to get high on the fumes?”

Eddie laughed. He tossed Steve the bag and continued to dig around some more. He pulled out another prize with a “Eureka!”

He shows the bong to Steve with a feral grin.

“Yeah, okay,” Steve said a startled laugh. “That works.”

They passed it back and forth, slowly getting high.

“So what’s forced conformity?” Steve asked after a few minutes.

Eddie hummed and then said, “Oh. It’s this theory I have. Parents, teachers, school counselors trying to force kids into specific boxes. Skinny, scrably kid? Must be a nerd and likes science. Only the kid hates science and math. Maybe he likes art and music. Something that schools are always trying to get rid of by the way. When there are budget cuts, those are always, always the first to be axed.

“Music is also something that is hotly contested. Don’t talk about sex or drugs or even feeling sad, really. Stay in the correct societal lines. No jazz or rock or metal. Just country or pop. Even though those two genres would be nothing without the jazz or blues. Black people’s music...”

Eddie continued to rant as Steve watched him wave his hands around in obvious enthusiasm.

“Does that make sense?” he said after a long time.

Steve who had been mildly buzzed throughout the whole thing nodded. “I think so. And I think...” he frowned. He looked up at Eddie with shining eyes and quivering lip. “I don’t know what I am. Sexually, I mean.”

Eddie sat up. “You don’t have to decide anything right now. You clearly are attracted to men. Does that mean that you aren’t attracted to women? Not necessarily. Like Marty likes both, but he prefers men. Uh...another person I know. They don’t go here obviously. But they prefer women. But every once in a while, they find a man that lights up their world and they go for it.” He huffed out a laugh. “Despite what the name suggests, bisexuality isn’t 50/50.”

Steve frowned. “Huh. Okay. That gives more to think about.”

Eddie shook his head. “You’re still in high school, dude. You have your whole life to figure this out.”

Steve’s answering smile was effervescent. “Thanks, Eds. For all of this today. I just needed to get out of my head for awhile.”

Eddie gave Steve’s shoulder a squeeze. “Any time, Stevie.” He stood up and dusted himself off. “Come on, I should get you back to the school to pick up your car.”

Steve nodded. “Yeah, otherwise the auto-body club will strip it for parts and leave it on concrete blocks by morning.”

Eddie laughed. “Yeah, let’s go with that.”

“It’s true!” Steve protested as he got up to follow him.

“It’s really not,” Eddie said. “It’s an urban legend.”

“Come on...” Steve said.

Eddie just shook his head and led them back to civilization.

Part 12 Part 13 Part 14 Part 15 Part 16 Part 17 Part 18 Part 19 Part 20 Part 21

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worldsokayestbabysitter · 2 years

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His first memory of his father is a happy one.

They’re at the park, the one that’s less than a block from their house. Steve thinks he was 3 years old, maybe 4. He remembers how high his dad was able to push him on the swing and how loudly his mother had laughed.

The world used to feel like it started in their living room, nestled between his parents on the couch. The world used to feel like it extended towards the park, or maybe Melvald’s, where his mom would let him pick out a candy bar and stretch to his tiptoes to place it on the counter. The world was his mother’s garden, his dad’s office, and all of the secret places he could hide.

When Steve started at Hawkins Elementary, the world was the spaces between lessons, when they were allowed to take a snack break. It was the notes his mom wrote for him, the extra lunch money his dad gave him.

The world was Carol and Tommy, who played pretend with him, all of them chasing each other around the school yard at a dead sprint. The world was Tommy’s hand in his.

Sometimes the world was just Steve and his mom, spending weekends together at the arcade, dad far away for important work.

When Steve turns 8, his world fractures with a sharp crack. He’s not supposed to be awake, but his dad is coming home tonight. He waits at the top of the stairs, just so he can see when his dad walks through the door. He can hear his mom in the kitchen, both of them waiting in secret.

Steve waits.

He’s startled awake to muffled shouting. His parents yell back and forth at each other until a sharp smack cuts through the noise. It’s silent. Steve goes to bed.

A teacher sees Steve and Tommy holding hands. Tommy says it was just a joke. Tommy stops reaching for Steve’s hand, so Steve stops reaching for his.

—

Dinner with his parents begins to turn quiet. Steve talks about his day. His mom asks him questions. His dad doesn’t look at either of them.

—

Next time his dad has to leave, mom goes with him. Says it’s just this once, says that it’s important. But not important enough for Steve to miss school.

The babysitter they hire takes him to the park on Wednesday, but she just sits on the bench. Steve sits on the swing, stationary. His parents are miles away, and the world no longer fits inside of Hawkins, Indiana.

—

Steve is 9 years old, and he knows where the leftovers are and how to heat them up. He knows where the first aid kit is. He knows how to work the washing machine. He doesn’t remember the last time he went to the arcade with someone other than his babysitter.

—

For Steve’s 10th birthday, his mom helps him make party invitations for everyone in his class. She takes him to the arcade the day before, and lifts him up so he can help put up the streamers before everyone arrives. His dad’s office door remains closed until the parents start to arrive with their kids.

It’s warm out, so his parents let them use the pool and run around in the grass.

His mom spends the day amongst them, but her eyes keep drifting to his father, who sits on the porch a few feet away from the other parents. His hand is never far from his glass, which hasn’t been full of water for a few hours.

Tommy gives him a handmade card. The parents make a big deal about Carol kissing him on his cheek.

On the night of his 10th birthday, Steve lays in bed and waits for his parents to come tuck him in. He listens as the shouting starts, and the footsteps stomp past his door, and the door slams.

—

People in Hawkins treat the name Harrington like a magic word. Harrington is a sure fire way to make more friends. Harrington gets teachers off his back.

When he’s 13, Steve’s teacher tells him that his daddy is a good man, someone everyone respects.

His father’s picture with the basketball team is still displayed proudly in the Hawkins High main hall.

Steve tries out his freshman year and makes JV. His father buys him a car.

—

Steve is 15, and he hasn’t heard his father laugh in 7 years. He’s 15 and Tommy thinks it’s cool that he has his house to himself more often than not. When his mom is home, Steve cooks dinner and makes sure that she doesn't hurt her neck when she falls asleep on the couch. When he makes breakfast, his mother smiles and ruffles his hair like he’s 8.

When Steve talks, she still listens.

Steve is 15, and he can’t remember the last time he sat at a table with both of his parents.

—

Steve’s 17, and Nancy Wheeler’s nose scrunches when she’s focused. Her face gets red and her eyes go down when Steve smiles at her. She clutches her books to her chest like a life raft when he leans against her locker.

Steve asks his mom how she knew she was in love. Her eyes grow distant, and she clears her throat. Says she doesn’t know, that it’s getting late and that Steve should go to bed. The sun hasn’t gone down yet.

Steve throws out the empty bottles of wine that litter the counter before he calls Nancy.

—

When his parents come home and see Steve’s bruised face, Steve’s dad asks him if he won the fight. His mom won’t look him in the eye.

Monsters are real, but he hasn’t hugged his mom in two years.

—

Steve gets another concussion, but he’d do it again if it meant keeping the kids safe. Dustin’s constantly hanging around and it fills a hole in his heart that he didn’t know was there. He suspects it's been there for a while.

His eyes still search for Tommy in the halls, his thoughts still linger. It hurts too much to acknowledge Nancy’s gaze.

—

His parents stay home for a whole week for Steve’s graduation. Steve only graduates by the skin of his teeth, and he sees his mom’s real smile for the first time in a long time.

His father spends the whole day - the ceremony, the pictures, dinner - stone faced and distant. Steve feels like a band that’s about to snap, feels the weight of the rejection letters like a sickness. Not even the group hug that the kids force on him eases the tension.

When Steve’s father finally yells at him the next day, Harrington feels like a brand, feels like rocks in his stomach when his father spits it at him.

It’s a relief to be forbidden from working for his father. It’s for the best, really. His mom sits at the counter, wine in hand, gaze fixed to the window. Steve feels unmoored.

—

For a brief time, in the summer of ‘85, Steve’s world is an itchy uniform, overpriced ice cream, and Robin Buckley.

Robin Buckley, who glares at him suspiciously on his first day, who doesn’t hesitate to boss him around, who rolls his eyes when he flirts. Robin Buckley, who’s laugh feels like rain in the summer, who makes Steve laugh like he’s never laughed. Robin Buckely, who takes over the register when Tommy comes in, who doesn’t ask questions.

The job sucks, as far as lessons from his father go. But Steve and Robin gossip about the people from school who come in, and they make faces behind rude customers' backs. They make up names for the regulars. They complain about the heat.

The world doesn’t feel so big for those few weeks.

—

Things change. Steve almost dies. He feels pain like he’s never felt, he realizes he’s met his soulmate on a dirty bathroom floor, and the world almost ends again.

His parents come home and his mom hugs him so tight that Steve’s world shrinks down to the space between his mother’s arms.

His dad’s hand stays on his shoulder for a little longer.

He doesn’t cry in front of them, but he grabs onto his mom’s shirt like he’s 6 years old.

He doesn’t cry when they leave again. He doesn’t cry when it’s just him in the house and he’s flinching at every flicker of the lights.

He doesn’t cry until it’s just him and Robin, curled towards each other on his bed like parenthesis as he fills her in on all the other fucked up things that have happened to those kids.

—

Eddie Munson’s eyes are a deep brown.

Steve Harrington is walking through an alternate dimension barefoot, but Eddie Munson’s eyes are brown and his voice curls around his last name like it means something.

Even after it’s all over, when Max’s arm is wrapped in a cast and Eddie wakes up in his hospital bed surrounded by The Party, he still says Steve’s name with care and reverence. Steve feels breathless every time he’s caught in Eddie’s orbit. Feels like Eddie’s laugh could crack his chest open.

Steve’s hands itch to run through Eddie’s hair, to twist his curls into braids like he does for Max. It scares him, how much he wants to be around Eddie. He wants to resist it, to fold it up and shove it in a corner. But the thought of being away scares him more.

So he visits Eddie every day. Helps him and his uncle gather his stuff when he’s discharged. Helps Eddie up the stairs to his new house, and reassures him when he apologizes for being weak.

Steve helps Eddie wash his hair in the sink. He can’t get his torso wet yet. His hair is soft, and Steve takes his time getting the tangles out. And when Eddie kisses him, it’s not scary.

When Eddie kisses him, the world feels big. When Eddie kisses him, the world feels like it could fit in Steve’s hands.

#steve harrington #steddie #aspeaks #steve's parents #my writing #pinned posts #my stuff

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queenoftheworldisdead · 3 years

Note

Could you maybe write something with dark dark Steve who has a huge size kink and crying kink and loves to humiliate?

School Days

Note: sorry it took so long. been kinda down. also hope i did OK with humiliation.

Summary: Co-worker makes you feel uncomfortable.

Warning: 18+Only, short reader, size kink, crying kink, humiliation kink, non consent, forced fingering and cock warming i think

Dark Coach Steve x Short Teacher Reader

📚

You had always had a love of teaching. Growing up your friends would always groan when it was your turn to pick what to play, because you always chose to play school.

You knew exactly what you wanted to do when you got to college. You wanted to shape young minds. It was fascinating watching them grow and learn right before your very eyes.

Shelby elementary hired you two years after you received all of your certificates. Replacing their beloved Mrs.Pepper Potts after she moved out of town with her husband.

You taught first graders. You preferred teaching the lower grades. The higher grades were a bit difficult. Competing for attention when most of the students where dealing with raging hormones proved an exhausting endeavor. Your short stature became a reoccurring issue too. During your student teacher days you realized the taller they got the more they seemed to not take you seriously.

At least working with the lower grades you were less likely to be confused as a student. You had lost track of how many times you were stopped in the hall by a colleague. With the lower grades you towered over your class and commanded respect with little effort.

📚

You felt exhausted. Your first parent teacher meeting was over. It was endearing and encouraging that so many parents had so many concerns about the development of their little ones. But their critiques on your credentials didn't fail to strike a nerve, an issue new teachers faced all the time. You smiled through it as you normally did. Letting them have their back handed remarks as you answered and waited out the clock.

When it was all over you needed a drink. You cleared up the mess they left for you, a preview of what to expect from their spawn.

When everything was in its place you tackled the blackboard. Taking out your stool you stood on tip toes erasing. You had the bright idea of outlining your curriculum on the board for all the parents to view. It was hard getting it all on the massive board, but with your step stool you got as high as you could go.

"Hey! Whoa you know that's dangerous." A voice rushed to your side as your stool tilted.

"Are you OK little one?" he asked helping you down.

God he's tall. You barely came eye to eye with his chest. You tensed in his arms and when he realized his mistake he released you.

"Oh sorry" he rubbed the back of his head slightly embarrassed. "I'm Steve Rogers." He reached out a hand for you to shake. You took it and introduced yourself. His firm grip swallowed your hand, when he squeezed you held in the hurt from the pressure.

Steve's presence was intimidating despite the smile he wore. When he released your hand, you took as step back, but he stepped forward.

He is just a close talker. Don't over analyze.

"Sorry again with your clothes I just assumed you were..." He motioned at your clothing.

Taking inspiration from Ms Frizz, your favorite animated teacher, you always wore colorful puffy skirts that depicted various things related to education or fairy tails. The look kept the attention of the youngsters, but it certainly didn't look childish.

"It's OK, but I am afraid you are a bit late for the meeting."

Spinning away you move to the other side of your desk to give yourself more space. "If you wouldn't mind filling in your information, encase of emergencies or special needs. I know you probably filled it out for the front office, but I like to have my own copy." You explained as you handed him a pen and the piece of construction paper with the other parents info.

He took it and filled it out. "I just erased the curriculum, but I can email you a copy."

"Did you also used to teach at Camdien?" Steve inquired, bending over your desk as he wrote. While you waited you packed up your belongings.

"Um yes I was a student teacher there. Did you have a child there too?"

"I coached there actually. Well was." He rose and approached you. Slipping your purse straps on your shoulder, you tried to remember if you seen his face before. You didn't recognize it. As striking as he was you doubted you would forget it.

But the athletic department lived in a world separate from the teachers. Their multiple championships brought in funding that went to their brand new athletic facility. The highly coveted building allowed them to live above the peasant class of the faculty. You had even heard a nonsensical rumor that they even had a Starbucks and onsite masseuse.

When he handed it back you reached out, but Steve pulled the paper just out of reach. Hovering it over your head like a bully playing keep away. You huff and frown after two attempts. You were not a child and would not be treated as such. Pursing your lips you made a move to leave. You would just go through the admin office to get the information.

"Aw don't pout, but I must say you do look adorable when you do." He smiled down at you as he blocked your retreat. His wholesome grin did not match the darkness in his eyes. There was a disconnect somewhere. You felt like a mouse before a lion. Were the other teachers like this? You were so eager to get started working you did little research in the school that so swiftly hired you. "Here you go."

Snatching the paper away you say, "thank you." It sounded slightly annoyed, but you did your best to choke down the edge.

Unhooking the lip of your bag you placed it with the others as his shadow clouded you. Ignoring it you side step him.

"Yeah I remember. I used to see you at Camdien." Steve recalled, blocking you once more. You stopped just short of bumping into him as you closed your bag. "Cute little thing, roaming the halls." Steve informed you, stepping closer once more, making you take a step back. The alarm bells blared in your head at that comment.

"Boy wasn't I relieved I wasn't crossing the line with all the thoughts I had." He chuckled as your back hit the chalkboard. You had to strain your neck to look him in the eye this close.

The principal was making his rounds soon. He wouldn't try anything right?

"Mr. Rogers-"

"Coach" he interrupted. He didn't touch you but that fact gave you very little relief. You felt your nails dig into your palm as you gripped the thin strap of your bag. Your arm the only barrier between you two. "Just call me Coach."

"Rogers!" Your saving grace, Principal Barnes, exclaimed from the door. Steve's body blocked you from James. "There you are. Nice to see your getting to know your colleagues."

"Yeah, just sharing stories from Camdien" Steve stepped aside to greet Principal James. His hand landed on the top of your head, messing your hair as he patted you playfully like a dog. You swallowed the discomfort as he moved to talk to James. You gathered the rest of your things as they focused their attention on each other.

"Oh yeah I forgot you both came from their."

You took that opportunity to make your exit. Walking fast mumbling a 'goodnight,' you bolted toward the door. They replied back, but you ignored it, allowing their chatter to fade the further down the hall you got.

📚

The first week of school was hectic. Lost students, late students, little accidents here and there, it ran the gambit. But nothing worried you more than P.E. period.

Steve was listed as your classes gym teacher and made the drop-off a chore. It surprised you how increasingly inappropriate he was becoming. Always stretching out your name flirtatiously in front of the children causing them to taunt you with 'OOO's, and pepper you with questions about the nonexistent relationship until you departed.

They stayed in line as you approached the double doors that led to the gymnasium. He was there, dressed in his sweat pants, gym shirt and the whistle dangled from his lips.

As you ushered them inside he caught site of you as he wrangled another group and smirked. It was unnerving especially when your students egged him on by making kissy noises loudly when they noticed him too. On one occasion he sent a note with one of your students asking you out. You ignored it.

You should've reported him you know, but what would they say 'Oh he was just being friendly' or any number of things to justify his behavior. You'd been in enough situations to know without evidence that met their standards nothing would happen.

📚

In the teachers lounge Steve made his presence known. You stared at your custom coffee mug as it sat high on the edge of the third shelf. You had half a mind to take and break his, as it taunted you from the first. You were growing more and more tired of his antics. This wasn't the first time and you knew it wouldn't be the last.

Two arms planted themselves on either side of you as something rested on your head.

It was him you knew it. Who else would it be?

"Need some help little one?" He hummed.

"God damn it Steve get off me" you barked You elbowed him, but the mountain of a man didn't budge.

"No need to be nasty."

You felt him push you into the counter, crushing you against it as he reached for your cup on the high shelf.

"Here you go" he said placing it daintily in front of you.

Calm down don't blow your lid he is doing this to fuck with you.

"Shouldn't you be watching my class?" You asked as you waited for him to move out of your way.

"Student teacher got me covered. You remember what that's like? Give them the work while we teachers kick back and relax."

He backed away allowing you to get the coffee, but stayed glued to your side. You ignored him, pulling out your phone and flopped on the couch, waiting for gym time to end.

Steve of course sat next to you crowding you into the corner. He boldly placed a hand on your thigh, you brushed it off, cursing at him to 'go away'. If you got up he would only follow so you crossed your legs and leaned into the arm of the couch. Don't let him get to you.

Steve stretched out his arm on the back of the couch. Even sitting next to you he towered over you. His arm wrapped around your shoulder, pulling you in snugly. Your head resting against his tone chest. "God your so adorable."

"Steve!" you almost shriek at him as his other hand slyly crept under your skirt. "Jesus Christ what the hell is wrong with you."

You try to stand suddenly, but get jerked back down. Landing in the same awkward situation as before.

"Fuck you let me go" you hissed at him. He only chuckled as you tried to stop his hand from advancing up your skirt again. You became panicked the further he got.

Clamping your thighs tightly together as he wedged between your crossed legs. Your eyes shifted to the door before you, the couch sat across from the only entrance. If anyone came in they surely would be under the wrong assumptions.

His arm refused to budge as you attempted to pry him away. Steve was nothing but muscle, struggling was getting you no where, each shift pressed him hard against your sensitive area.

📚

"You know I've been nothing, but nice to you" Steve sounded disappointed.

"Stop please" you sounded panicked and desperate. Your nails dug into his arm as you tried to fight back an ache that taunted you as he teased.

"But you always give me attitude." He stated casually.

You slapped him. The sound loud in the empty room. Your eyes blurred with tears of frustration. Your hit did nothing, only leaving his cheek red, but from the smile on his face he liked it.

"And violent too. Hope you don't act that way around your class" he tsked while poking hard at the growing wet spot. You felt your spine curve and breath become heavier, your toes curled in your shoes as he increased his friction.

"Oh look at you. You like that don't you" he teased rubbing circles after noticing the tension in your legs relax. You cocked back to slap him again, but stopped when you felt his other hand at the back of your neck. It squeezed softly, but it was a warning nonetheless. You felt defeated. Not only was Steve bigger than you, he was stronger. Tears of frustration finally fell as you lowered your hand and let him do as he pleased.

"God your even cuter when you cry." He preened. "Tell you what. Since we don't have that much time....Kiss me and I will stop." You bristled as you felt him peel your panties to the side.

He didn't wait for your reply. Steve crashed his lips on to yours without warning. You flinched expecting pain, but it was soft. It was so tender that with anyone else they would given and close their eyes, accept it, but you couldn't.

"Stop..Steve.. Please" You panted over his lips, pushing at his chest as his fingers pushed into you. He didn't stop, the kiss only embolden him to go further. You whimpered and moaned as he took from you.

"Give me your panties" he asked pulling away from you, but his fingers still curled inside. "You promised you'd stop" you remind him, wiping away tears.

He wasn't going to relent, you could tell by the determination in his eyes. You felt exposed and embarrassed. Anyone could walk in at any moment and he knew it. He would probably get a slap on the wrist while you would need to find employment else where to escape the shame.

"I promise this time" he said lowly. "No tricks."

Swallowing your pride you lifted in your seat, he moved just enough to let the fabric pass. Rolling them down your knees quickly you hand them over. His hands slipped from you as you pass it. He held them up to the light and examined the wetness he created. Wiping away tears, you stood and bolted toward the door, but stopped when Steve whistled loudly.

"I think you forgot something."

You turned to find him pointing at your discarded mug.

"If you leave it, I leave this in it", he waved your shame in the air.

"Don't forget to wash it....don't want it to leave a stain" he ordered from the couch. You walked back on edge. Snatching the mug from the other side of the table. You rushed to the sink and rinsed your cup. More tears fell as you felt the wetness between your legs. The mirror mounted above the sink allowed you to examine yourself. Your mascara bled a bit and lipstick smeared, but nothing that couldn't be fixed with a dab of a napkin.

You swore to never step foot in the lounge ever again. If you needed to eat you would do it in your car or at your desk. This was supposed to be a magical time for you, but with Steve it had turned into a nightmare.

You sniffed as you blinked away the tears, forcing yourself to stop crying. Gym time was almost over and you needed to pull yourself together and collect your class.

"You know how often I wonder about you" Steve said rising from the couch, you watched him carefully from the mirror. You fumbled your mug, the water splashing back at you.

"Steve you promised" you said meekly, utterly defeated. He stared at you through the mirror, you felt his eyes watch your discomfort as you picked up the cup.

"What would the parents think if they knew their kids teacher walks around the class with no panties on" he tutted. You hung your head low and noticed your panties balled up in his hand as he rested it on the counter.

"I also wonder" He said pressing you into the sink. You felt his resolve through his sweat pants. "Do you fit?"

Fit?

Then it became clear. You felt his cock against your backside. You tried frantically to flea, but Steve caught you by the neck.

"I'm willing to bet you can't even fit half of me inside" he whispered in your ear as he bent you over the sink, crushing. "If I'm wrong I will let you go." Your eyes rounded as he hauled up your skirt. You whimpered as the cool air of the staff room tickled your exposed rear.

Steve was really going to fuck you in the staff room. These walls were paper thin and he knew it. Your head swirled in panic as you pleaded with him to stop. He only chuckled and shimmied down his sweat pants as you swatted back at him.

He angled and aligned himself as you sobbed. The tip slipped through your wet thighs, finding the target of its need.

You choked down a guttural moan as he breathed out 'good girl'. He watched your face as every inch stretched through your insides.

"Its is too much" you gasped out, trembling from the pressure, dancing on your tip toes as you adjusted around him.

"Its all inside" he praised the accomplishment. Forcing you to look at the mirror. "You fit me so good...see."

The mirror reflected your assault to your horror. "All cute holding me inside, taking everything I got" he said while stretching you.

Shooting pains radiated from your core as sharp breaths escaped you.

"Look at you" he taunted "coming apart just for me.... "

You heard the door to the room open and close quickly as you panted wildly. Steve didn't pull out, unabashed, letting whomever take in his pale ass as he continued to stuff you.

You didn't know who saw you, you only hoped his massive body hid you and your shame.

📚

#dark steve x reader #dark steve x black reader #dark!steve x reader #dark!steve x black!reader #black writer

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elius-learns-to-write · 3 years

Text

Class Drama and Anger Issues

Hey besties this will contain swearing, violence, catcalling/ sexual harassment, blood and just horrible behaviour so please take care reading this, love you all <3

You had always been very protective of your friends

It wasn’t like you didn’t think they could stand up for themselves

You understood that 100%

However whenever anyone insulted them or talked bad about them you were the first person to throw hands

You were sure that your jaw had locked from how long you had been tensing it. You see, being sat at the back of the classroom was great, you could see everyone and hear everyone. Which means that whenever someone decided to bitch and moan about the people in the little group you had managed to join, that you would be the first person to hear it. Like right now for example, Liz and Peter had broken up a few days ago and she didn’t take it so well and had taken up talking about him behind his back. Which had led us to this: you at the back of the room, fists and jaw clenched in an effort to not walk over to her and her little friends and wipe that smug look right off her face. “And he isn’t even that smart, God knows how he got into Stark industries” nope that was it, that was the last straw. You pushed the stupid science lab chair back so hard it fell to the ground, heads turned to you as you stormed over to where Liz and her group where currently at which just happened to be at the front of the classroom. God, were you lucky that the teacher had left to go grab some more textbooks from some cupboard down the hall, otherwise you would have been dead when you said “Listen Liz. Peter is an amazing and smart boy who cares more for others than he does himself. He works harder than anyone else I know and he still manages to make sure others are okay. He is twice the person you will ever be and if you don't shut up in the next 2 minutes you won’t have to worry about being bitter over a breakup, you’ll be too worried about getting a set of new teeth”. If this was a cartoon steam would be pouring from your ears and your face would be blood red, which wasn’t too far from what you looked like now. Peter had taken a sick day and thank god he had, otherwise he would have killed you for even saying anything, however Ned was still here and he was waiting to see how far you would go before having to step in and calm you down. “Oh how sweet L/n, you think you’re all strong and scary” her and her friends' sickly sweet laughs echoed in your ears as you clenched your fists even harder. “Y/n come on Peter wouldn’t want this” ned tried to reason and even in your rage filled stupor you realised he was right and took a breath to try and calm yourself down “say anything again and you’ll see just how strong and scary I can be” you spat, stroming away, grabbing your bag and walking out of the room just in time for your teacher to walk back in, “where’s L/n?” he asked.

Okay maybe you did tend to overreact

You just really cared about your friends

They were there when you needed them and you wanted to do the same

You couldn’t help it that you got angry when people decided to talk about them

In some situations though it was acceptable to get angry

You, Mj and Betty had been coming back from the Cinema late one night after deciding that you deserved to spend some time together after exam week to treat yourselves. Unfortunately walking through the streets at 10pm meant getting some very unwanted attention from older men. “Hey mama looking good” one man slurred as you walked past him grabbing the girls hands a little tighter in an attempt to ground yourself and reassure them that you would keep them save, “hey don’t be like that, we just want to talk” another man added, honestly what was it with them? Couldn’t they see you obviously didn’t want to “talk” to them. You hadn’t even realised your feet had stopped moving until Betty gently placed her hand on your shoulder and whispered “It’s fine just let it go” and tried to give you a nudge in the direction you had originally been going. “Hey! Don’t just ignore us! We know you want some attention” you didn’t know who had said it and at this point you didn’t care, worrying more about teaching them a thing called respect than about who voiced their unwanted thoughts. Letting go of your friends hands, turning around slowly and walking towards the men with a smile on your face so sweet it was almost scary. “Didn’t anyone ever tell you that women aren’t your submissive little toys?” you sung punctuating your sentence with a kick to one guy's nuts and a punch to the other's nose. “Because someone really should” and as the men were recovering from your atack you stalked away along the dimly lit street and continuing your journey to Mj’s house.

Okay so we have clearly established your hatred towards people who disrespect your friends

The Avengers new about your strong feelings and respected the fire that you had

Of course they did have Bruce try and teach you some breathing exercises

Spoiler alert they didn’t help very much

So when Bucky got a call from your school telling him that he would have to pick you up as you were suspended for a week

He couldn’t say he was surprised

“I’m going to pick Y/n up from school, be back in a bit” Bucky called to the rest of the team who had been watching some sort of reality show on the new Tv Tony had no reason to buy but did, “why? What happened?” Steve replied, a look of concern on his face “They got into a fight and so they are suspended for a week” the supersoldier sighed, grabbing the car keys and whispering “what did you do this time Y/n” to himself.

I’ll tell you what happened

You had been on your way to English when you had seen Flash taunting Mj, waving her book above his head and laughing hysterically about something. Instantly you dropped your bag to the floor and stormed over to them “Hey Flash, what are you doing there buddy?” you shouted loud enough to seem intimidating but not loud enough to capture the attention of the teachers and students who were already in class. “None of your business Y/n, move along” he spat back, if looks could kill he would be six feet under and halfway to hell as you ripped the book from his grasp and slammed him into the lockers “really? Because to me it looks like you’re being rude to my good friend Mj and I don’t take that very lightly”. Gripping him by the collar and pushing him even further into the lockers that he was sure his body had made a dent in the metal, however flash was never one to give up like the shaking leaf of a man he was. Pushing you hands off and shoving you by your shoulders he said “aww look Mj your angry little guard dog has come to your rescue again. How sweet” if there was one thing you hated more than stupid boys and disrespect it was being called a dog. You weren’t gonna let him call you that. Quicker than he could say “Don’t hit me” your fist came flying straight into the boy's noise, a satisfying crunch being made upon impact. Now throughout all of this no one had heard the commotion and they wouldn’t have if Flash didn’t scream out in pain and then faint at the sight of his own blood.

That’s how you ended up getting suspended

It was what you had told your dad when he picked you up because you had no reason to lie

No matter how proud of you he was he still gave you a talking to

You both had a long talk about how best to go about controlling your anger and instead of going back to Bruce you decided to take a few anger management classes

And so far it’s going great

(Until flash decides to open his mouth again)

#the avengers #avengers x platonic reader #avengers x teen!reader #avengers x reader #avengers imagine #bruce banner x teen!reader #bucky barnes #bucky imagine #bucky x teen!reader #bucky x you #bucky x daughter!reader #mj x reader #mj x you #peter parker x reader #peter x teen!reader #peter parker imagine

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randomshyperson · 3 years

Text

THE SCARLET WITCH PROPHECY - Chapter VI - The Fourth Year (Final Part)

Gif is not mine, blessed are the gif makers.

Summary: As the youngest daughter of Howard Stark, you have ordinary expectations for your years at Hogwarts. Little do you know what adventures await you when your destiny is intertwined with the legendary Scarlet Witch.

Warnings: +16. Adaptation of the Harry Potter Saga, Magical Thematic, Prophecies, Mentions of Violence, Torture and dark magic, Language (swearing and minor/major offenses), manipulation of will, Underage kissing, insinuation of smut with minors, Smut (overage), descriptions of death, aggression, obscurity, angst, fluffy, soulmates analogies. | Chapters Warnings: Heavy angst in this.

A/N: This took me a while, because i had writer block (and it's not over yet). Anyway, I hope people like this. Let me know if anything is confusing okay? Sorry about typos too.

Words counting: 11.344K

Series Masterlist || Read on AO3 || All Works Masterlist

//-//

The Fourth Year - Final Part

Wanda was avoiding you. Well, not just you, but all your friends.

You told Gamora what happened, but you didn't have the stomach to repeat the story to anyone else, so your sister passed the news on.

You were coping well in spite of everything. You missed her terribly the whole time, but you were pushing the feelings down and trying to stay positive about everything.

By trying to put yourself in Wanda's shoes, you understood why she did what she did. You just had to find a way to prove to her that what you felt was real, and for that you needed to find out more about your magical bond.

Your best alternative to the lack of books about it in the library was to talk to the professors. Judging from your experience with them, none of the teachers would tell you anything. But Fury has been acting very differently all year, and although you don't agree with the way he has been teaching D.A.D.A. lately, you have the impression that he would tell you anything you asked.

That's why after a particularly exhausting class where he made all students practice the shield spell until one of the boys threw up, you waited until the room emptied to talk to him, watching with curiosity as he turned a small bottle he kept in his pocket to his mouth.

"What is it Stark?" He asked still on his back. You wondered if behind the eye patch he had some enchanted eye to see around things, but the idea seemed too absurd to you.

"Sorry, Professor Fury." You say. "I have a question about advanced magic and would like to clear it with you."

Fury put his materials away in his bag, and beckoned for you to accompany him into the private office, and you followed him into the small room, watching him set the desk on a coffee table and move toward a glass cabinet of magic supplies.

"Have a seat and make yourself comfortable." He said with his back turned. "I need to prepare a potion, but you can ask me what you want."

You stumble half-heartedly to one of the empty armchairs, and then clear your throat.

"It's about magic bonds, professor." You recount. "I... well, I think I have one. And well, I'm not finding much material on it, and I don't understand how they work."

Fury makes a noise with his mouth in understanding, his hands wandering through the cabinets behind ingredients you don't recognize, but he seems to be paying attention to both you and the brewing of the potion.

"Are you familiar with the concept of magical bonds and connections, Miss Stark?" He asks and you deny it. The professor cuts something that looks like mushrooms on the table as he speaks again. "The reason you can't find books that explain to you exactly the nature of this magic, is because no wizard has been able to decipher these enchantments correctly." He explains. "The magical bonds are one of the oldest and most powerful enchantments in the magical world, Miss Stark. Extremely dangerous, yet immeasurably valuable for some purposes."

You swallow dryly, but do not interrupt. Professor Fury bends down to reach a tin cauldron and places it on the counter in front of him, on a small makeshift stove. He deposits some ingredients inside.

"Have you ever heard about any of these bonding spells?" He asks and you think for a moment.

"I think I've heard about the perpetual vow, sir."

Fury gives a small smile, nodding. He sniffs a small bottle before pouring the contents into the cauldron.

"Yes, the perpetual vow is a great example of a magical bond." He says. "But it is still an active spell, you need to recite an incantation and both parties need to voluntarily close the bond. Some witches believe it's a contractual magic, much more than a natural connection." Fury explains. "I particularly prefer to use another example, Stark. The life debt."

Fury has a smile at the corner of his lips, and a strange gleam in his eyes when he looks at you for a moment, but you don't have the courage to ask. He turns his attention back to the cauldron, lighting the flame under the metal with his wand.

"I don't know what that means." You confess and the professor doesn't take his eyes off the cauldron.

"A life debt is a magical bond created when a wizard or witch saves the life of another magical being." He explains. "And I say magical being, not just another wizard, because I've seen it happen once for a centaur to owe a wizard their life. But never the other way around."

"How does that work?"

"It's very simple really." He says. "If you save someone's life, that person or creature will owe you a debt. The bond is created, without needing an incantation. The act of preserving a life is magical enough to create that bond." He explains and his expression turns almost somber. "The best part is that the person saved needs to pay back."

"And how do they do it?"

"A life can only be paid with another life." He declares. By now, the potion is smelling. You don't know what it is, but it looks like lavender, and it makes you a little dizzy. "I have witnessed a quitting in my time as an auror, Miss Stark." He tells you, and you already imagine that what he is about to say is not something you should tell a fourteen-year-old witch, but you don't think to interrupt. "The debtor throws himself in front of the Reducto incantation to prevent the death of the witch who saved him once. I still remember the pieces flying around the room."

You looked away, uncomfortable with the mental image you were given. The professor didn't seem to mind.

"But of course not all debts are paid off like that." He added as if he hadn't just told the story of someone tearing themselves apart. "Stopping a friend from falling off his broom in a game of quidditch might be enough to pay off a debt. Or to create one too." He counters. " This kind of magic has always been very difficult to decipher."

You murmur in understanding, keeping your gaze on the floor. The professor sighs lightly, moving away from the cauldron to sit in the empty armchair in front of you.

"But I'm guessing you're not talking about any of these bonds, are you?" He hints and you swallow dryly, feeling intimidated by the watchful gaze he gives you. You figure that lying is not an option.

"N-no sir." You reply. "I wanted to know more about protective bonds. Like... like the idea of someone you care about getting hurt, causes you a really bad feeling. And it makes you ignore your own safety and makes you go too far e...."

"Impressive." The professor interrupts, his gaze almost fascinated on you, and making you swallow dryly. "And how far are we talking about, Stark? What's the limit? Would the wizard put themselves in front of an unforgivable curse? Would they offer themselves up as a sacrifice? If one were to get hurt, would the bruises show up on the other, or does the very idea make your insides turn? Or…”

"Fury." You jump in fright when Strange's voice interrupts the monologue of the other man, who was very close to you now.

Fury looks annoyed that he has been cut off, but he turns away with a smile. "Pardon the interruption. I need to have a word with you on a matter." Stephen said, but he didn't look happy at all, and his expression was one of concern and disapproval, probably from the discussion he witnessed.

You stood up awkwardly, taking a step back, your heart still racing from the things the professor told you.

"Of course, Professor Strange." Fury spoke as he stood up. "Stark, I hope that has cleared up your doubts. If there is anything else you wish to ask me, you may come to my office as needed."

You bit your tongue to avoid saying that Fury only scared you rather than clarifying anything, and nodded in understanding.

"Defense Against the Dark Arts may not be my class, but I am also available to talk with you, Miss Stark." Stephen added softly as you passed him in the doorway. You mumbled a goodbye before walking out of the office, ignoring the horrible feeling that settled in your stomach.

//-//

You were really disturbed by the conversation with Professor Fury. The story of the wizard casting himself in front of a spell gave you strange dreams, and you could no longer be sure that you wouldn't do the same for Wanda.

Your friends were equally impressed by what you told them, and you ignored the feeling of dissatisfaction at the pit of your stomach that you felt because you wish you were talking to Wanda about it, and tried to be more grateful that you have someone to talk to at all.

You were thinking of talking to Tony about everything, and you thought you'd look for him in the Slytherin hall, and to your surprise, he showed up in your common room. You thought he was there to spend some time with Steve, but he really came to see you.

"Daddy wrote for us." He explains as soon as he greets you. The letter already open in your hands as he throws himself on the couch in the communal hall. It is Sunday, but the room is very empty because with the amount of free time and foreigners in the castles, most of the students are socializing outside. You had dismissed your friends' invitation to practice Quidditch in exchange for a nap, as you were upset by the way Wanda left the main hall at breakfast when she realized you were sitting at the Slytherin table with her brother.

"Finally." You grumble as you sit down in the armchair across from Tony, stretching out your arm to pick up the letter. It must have been the first letter in three months or more. Last time, your father had said he was overwhelmed with work and would not send any news for a while. You thought it would be days, but it was months. Jarvis at least wrote to tell that he was alive, working in the basement.

Looking down at the paper, you began to read:

"Dear children, how is school going? I hope you are studying as I have always asked you to do. I have been busy with an important project at the ministry, an invention to improve the astronomical forecasts of the wizarding community. Please forgive me for the lack of contact these last months.

Tony, I received the letter about the detention, and I was quite upset when I heard about the bet. You are the older brother and you should protect your sister, not put her in danger. But I am glad that everything ended well and hope that this kind of behavior will not happen again.

Y/N, dear, I heard about your willingness to start studying Muggle Studies, and I'm very glad..."

You stop reading the letter halfway through, frowning and looking at Tony next, who was lying with his head on the cushions and his arm under his eyes.

"What kind of crap is this?" you ask with confusion and irritation, causing Tony to let out a short chuckle. "Dad telling us to study? What the...?"

"It doesn't sound anything like him, I know." Tony interrupts and then sighs, sitting down on the couch to point to the paper. "And see how he doesn't make any jokes about the dare, or any comments about your incident at the lake? It sounds so mechanical and vague."

"Do you think he hasn't read our letters? He only mentions the one from school." You say and Tony leans back on the couch, thoughtful.

"I don't know. It just doesn't sound like him." He says. "I wouldn't be surprised to find out that Jarvis wrote it."

"Why would Jarvis do that?"

"Because Dad hasn't spoken to us in three months." Tony retorts with irritation. "And well, you almost drowned and he didn't even bother to read about it."

"Tony..."

"No, it's fine." He grumbles, taking the letter from your hands and standing up. "Screw him." Cursed the boy in annoyance, tossing the letter into the fireplace in the room. You frowned, sighing. "We don't need him. I'll take care of you."

You were tired of this. Running a hand through your hair for a moment in frustration, you let Tony take your hands in his as he knelt in front of you next.

"I'm sorry I've been absent this while." He says surprising you. "I hated how all the adults were hiding things from us, and I did the same with you. I promise I will tell you everything from now on."

You nod in understanding, squeezing Tony's hand lightly.

"I need to tell you something too."

And you do. The whole conversation with Wanda and with Professor Fury shock Tony. And he has a frown creased in concern when you finish.

"I know it's a lot." You say. "But I'm terrified. I don't know what will happen to me if I lose Wanda, and all I can do is miss her."

"Hey, it's going to be okay." Tony says tenderly, releasing his hand to caress your cheeks and wipe away the dripping tears. "I won't let anything bad happen to you. I promise."

"What if you can't avoid it, Tony?" you retort softly, your voice whiny.

"I will." He assures you. "I will help you. We'll figure out a way to break this bond, and then you and Wanda will be safe."

You nod, deciding to believe his words. Your brother hugs you next, and you wish he is right.

//-//

Just like you, Tony was also unable to gain access to the restricted section of the library. But that is the least of your problems.

As the date of the last task approaches, you are a pile of nerves. Tony assures you that he will try to find something about ways to break magical bonds on the last trip to Hogsmeade in a local library, but you are barely listening to him, your thoughts wandering towards Wanda.

The other girl, on the other hand, continues to avoid you and your friends. Your only option is to ask Pietro about her, and he assures you that she is as upset as you are as if he is trying to make you feel better somehow. But all this information causes is a worsening of your distress. Pietro is not comfortable coming between you two, so you don't insist that he spend time with you or your friends, knowing that Wanda needs company. You also insist that Gamora and Nebula continue to spend time with the witch, but they comment that Wanda is not really sociable after the whole thing.

The rest of the school starts to notice the way the Maximoffs are no longer hanging out with you, and since everyone in the school loves a little gossip, the news that you and Wanda broke up starts to circulate very quickly.

You don't want your detention for the lake story to escalate, but it's hard to control the urge to jinx your classmates when their snarky remarks reach your ears.

"I heard they broke up because Wanda became a champion, and didn't want to be seen with a hufflepuff anymore." Said in a not so low tone, a Ravenclaw boy as you were walking ahead of them toward the Potions classroom.

"No, dude, that's not true. I heard that Wanda got pretty close to the other champion, Jean Grey, and obviously she'd go for a famous quidditch player than a nobody." Added a female voice, and you clutched the books in your hands tightly, but didn't turn around.

"Come on, the girl's a Stark." Retorted the boy. "I think Maximoff is a winner with either one."

The girl laughed lightly, and you wished you reach the classroom soon.

"I think you're right." The girl spoke up. "Maximoff has always been weird, I don't know how she got such great options."

Your attention wandered from the conversation when Mantis reached you. She went back to the dorm to get the potions book she had forgotten, and frowned at your annoyed posture when she arrived, but when she caught the words of the pair behind you, she threw them an annoyed look that made them fall silent.

"Don't pay any attention to that kind of gossip, Y/N." She asked gently and you just sighed.

"I just wish people would mind their own business." You grumble annoyed and Mantis agrees with a murmur.

Potions class was as difficult as it usually is. What surprised you was Professor Lensherr's tired appearance, but you imagined it must be because of the tournament finals that were being organized by the teachers.

When you were packing your materials, you almost knocked over the glass jar when he appeared in front of you.

"Stark, a word, please." He asked earnestly, and Mantis shot you a glance before hurrying to leave. The professor waited until the room was empty and then nodded to the door, which closed. "Wanda told me about your magic bond."

"Shit." You grumbled immediately, and Professor Erik raised his eyebrows. You cleared your throat, apologizing for cursing. "Look, sir, I don't know what else to say about it. I don't know where the bond came from, and I'm trying to find out..."

"I can help." He interrupts and you fall silent, surprised.

"Really?"

"Yes." He says straightening his posture and crossing his arms. "I obviously have more magical knowledge than you, and your nosy brother." He says and you understand that he is talking about the way Tony has been pestering the teachers to get information. "And if this bond affects Wanda, it is of particular interest to me."

You swallow dryly, nodding in understanding. You explain to him how you feel next, and Erik absorbs your words with a neutral expression.

"Interesting. I had my theories since you couldn't duel with Wanda in the second year, but since you became close, it wasn't my place to intrude.” He tells with a bit of a nostalgic face as you finish speaking. “I have a few questions, Miss Stark. I need clarification on the nature of this bond." He says with his arms still folded across his chest. "Last summer, Wanda had a cold. Did you feel anything?"

You thought about the vacation for a few seconds.

"No, sir." You reply. "I don't remember getting sick."

"I see." He says. "Tell me, have you ever had dragon pox?"

You nod in agreement.

"At how old?" The teacher asks, and you think for a moment.

"I don't know, four I think. Maybe five."

"Wanda had dragon pox when she was six." He declares, his gaze assessing you. You blink, trying to follow what he is trying to say. "It's not a very common disease in England, is it?"

"I don't think so." You mutter without understanding why the professor is looking at you like that.

"Wanda caught the disease in Sokovia, the country where she was born." He recounts. "We were on vacation and she came back sick. The last case of that disease here in England was almost a hundred years ago."

"I guess I'm unlucky then." You try to joke, and Erik almost smiles.

"The flu Wanda had last summer was not of magical origin." He adds, and you frown slightly, not knowing what to make of this information. "But dragon pox is magical in nature."

"Professor I don't..."

"Wanda broke her wrist at the age of seven." He interrupts as he uncrosses his arms, gesturing slightly. "She and Pietro were playing in the backyard, no magic."

"Okay..."

"I imagine Wanda has already talked to you about her exceptional magical abilities, Miss Stark." The professor continues. "Her visible magic, I meant. It started when she was three years old, when she was able to bring her toys into her crib and wrap them all in a magical cloud." Erik tells and you smile briefly at the image of a baby Wanda, but his expression makes you bite the inside of your cheek the next second. "I want to know how much of this you were able to experience, being on the other side of the country."

You swallow dryly, looking away and trying to think back to your childhood.

"I don't know, professor." You reply. "I was a child. Maybe Tony or dad will know something."

"Come on, isn't there anything you can tell me?" He insists. "Any specific memories, any strange dreams? Anything."

You think, and think, but none of your childhood memories seem relevant. And then you frown, remembering one.

"Actually... There was this one time I got really sick. I think I was about eight. Maybe nine, and dad took me to St.Mungus. I had a high fever, and I couldn't sleep at night with nightmares, but I don't remember what happened. They thought it might be the flu, but we never found out what it was. The next day I was better."

Erik was slightly wide-eyed and then he sighed.

"Before she came to Hogwarts, Wanda was afraid of losing control of her magic at school." He starts to tell. "I tried to calm her down, but she was very upset. She managed to convince Pietro to help her into my potions room and took an entire bottle of a brew for magical containment. Her magic seemed almost enraged, and she destroyed the greenhouse with a wave of energy. I've never seen her so out of control." He says thoughtfully, as if remembering the events. "She passed out from exhaustion, and didn't wake up until the morning. She was ten.”

"You don't think...?"

"That's exactly what I think, Miss Stark." He interrupts, "The dates match. Every time Wanda was in danger from a magical source, you were affected, because the nature of your bond with her is magical. And that was confirmed during the tournament by noticing the way you jumped into the lake during the second task. I imagine your little interaction with Professor Heimdall when Wanda was facing the dragon was about this as well?" He asks and you nod your head in confirmation. "Right. Well, that's a problem."

"I noticed." You grumble, but then realize from the professor's expression that in addition to what has been said, it seems to be a problem for another reason. "Why?"

"Regarding your safety, I mean." Explains the professor. "The last task of the tournament is going to be exceptionally challenging, and perhaps not the best of experiences for you."

You widen your eyes in anticipation.

"Professor, what will happen in the third task?"

"I can't tell you." He says. "But there will be many challenges. And Wanda may encounter difficulties, especially since she is only fifteen."

You sigh, trying to push the wave of worry down.

"I hate this tournament." You state in a mumble and Professor Erik gives a short little smile. "I hate to see Wanda in danger. If it's for the gold, she can have all mine."

Erik laughed, and you blinked in surprise at the sound.

"Believe me, I dislike this competition as much as you do." He says. "There is no pleasure in seeing Wanda in danger for something as superficial as eternal glory. But the goblet chose her, and she would have suffered a magical penalty if she didn't obey the contract. It was a difficult decision, but it was the best for her."

You mutter in understanding and the teacher is thoughtful for a few minutes.

"I would recommend you not watch the competition so you don't get so nervous, but clearly distance doesn't matter for the bond." He remarks. "I need more information about how all this works. I want to run some tests with you two."

You frown slightly, but before you can ask what kind of tests, the teacher speaks again.

"That will need to wait, of course. With the competition and the final exams, I understand that you are experiencing enough stress and I don't want to cause any more suffering." He explains. "Over the vacations, perhaps I can write to your father. It's time to see old friends again after all."

You are surprised that the professor makes this mention, but you don't bother to comment. He clears his throat, and signals that this is all. You thank him as you get up and then leave the room.

//-//

When the day of the last task of the tournament finally arrived, the whole school was in a joint peak of excitement.

You could hardly sleep, strange nightmares throughout your entire night combined with the anxiety at the pit of your stomach made you wake up several times during your sleep. In the morning you decided to ignore the buzz around the hallways about the task and the possible winner, and joined your friends for breakfast.

You wanted to talk to Wanda, but you didn't see her at the Slytherin table, and Gamora tried to cheer you up with news about a band you liked playing in London next month, but you could barely force a smile, feeling tired and irritated.

You heard a group of Gryffindors commenting excitedly that the occultation spell had been removed from the quidditch field, and that the gates of something that had been conjured for the last task were already visible, but before you could try to hear what they were saying, the boys were already leaving the hall and Pietro came to talk to you.

"Hey, good morning, how are you?" he asked curiously, taking a seat across from you at the table.

"Not well, if you want to know." You grumbled dejectedly, your fingers lazily stroking the piece of bread on your plate. "What about you?"

"Worried." He replied shrugging his shoulders with a small corner smile. "But I'm optimistic. Wanda is confident, and thinks she can win. And I'm trusting that everything will end well."

The mention of Wanda makes you sigh slightly and lean your chin on your arm on the table, looking at the boy in front of you.

"I miss her, Pietro." You confess upset and ignore the way Gamora and Nebula who are sitting next to the boy look at you with pity, but appreciate how Mantis strokes your back lightly. "She won't talk to me, and I can't blame her or even be mad at her."

"Wanda asked for some time, didn't she?" he asked slightly curious and you grumbled in agreement. "Well, I guess you have the right to ask the same."

You frown in confusion, and Pietro has a little smile as he pours himself some juice.

"What do you mean?" You ask.

"Ask her for, I don't know, five minutes of attention?" He suggests. "Five minutes to at least give her good luck. You look miserable, and I hate to see you like this."

You sigh, thinking about the idea. And then you smile.

"Thanks, P." You say as you raise your head.

"No problem." He says. "You can try now, Wanda should be on the lower floors. She wanted to talk to dad before the task."

You nodded in understanding and then said you would meet your friends outside.

It didn't take long for you to find Wanda. The girl was walking up the stairs as you were coming down, and well, she had no choice but to look at you.

You felt your heart race to have her looking directly at you after so long, but you ignored the sensation as you walked down the steps and stopped in front of her. Wanda swallowed dryly, but held her gaze.

"Hey." You greeted half breathlessly, smiling slightly.

"What do you want?" she asked uncomfortably, her gaze serious. You ignored the seriousness of her words.

"Talk to you."

"I already said I need time."

"I know." You said without hesitation. "But I also have the right to talk. Can you give me five minutes?"

Wanda looked away, and then at her feet. She sighed and nodded, and you waited for her to look at you again before speaking.

"I miss you, Wanda." You confessed and watched Wanda swallow dryly, her eyes filling with tears as she looked away. "And I wanted to wish you good luck in the last task."

Wanda sighed faintly, nodding in understanding, her gaze on the stairs. You raised your finger to her chin, gently turning her face so that she was looking at you. Wanda closed her eyes as you fitted your hand to her cheeks, your thumb stroking her skin tenderly as she leaned into the touch.

Her hand moved up to your forearm the next moment, squeezing before moving your hand away from her face as she pushed your arm away gently.

You sighed, ignoring the feeling in your stomach and the urge to kiss and touch her again.

"Please don't do that." She whispered. "Don't touch me as if you love me as much as I love you."

You gasped, widening your eyes at the confession. But before you could add anything else, footsteps approached and Erik was coming up the stairs behind Wanda. The girl took a step back, wiping her eyes quickly.

"Stark." The professor greeted politely. You had a hard time disguising how much Wanda's words stirred in you. "Wanda, you'd better hurry up for breakfast. The task will start soon."

"Yes, dad." Wanda agrees and she doesn't look at you as she leaves. Erik nods politely and you stand on the steps for long minutes, your heart racing in your chest.

Wanda loves you. And you can't be with her.

Ignoring your broken heart, you turn and walk back into the hall, following the crowd of students who are making their way to the site of the last assignment.

//-//

The third task was a maze full of magical trials.

You gasped as you reached the sight of the large grass ones that were raised at the entrance to the quidditch field and the matched grass gates.

The crowd of students spilled out onto the bleachers set up in front of the maze, and you began to look around for your friends, ignoring the urge to run to Wanda and tell her you loved her back, not wanting to upset her before the task.

When the crowd was fully seated in the stands, and some students were already raising their cheering posters in the air, you watched the tournament judges move along with the faculty as Agatha took her place to announce the start of the competition.

"Hey, it's going to be okay." Gamora whispered to you as the director made the announcements. "I bet Wanda will be back before you can miss her."

You try to smile, your stomach turning in nervousness.

Watching the field below, you see the champions positioning themselves at the entrance.

Jean Grey had the highest score, so she entered first. The Durmstrang students cheering loudly until she disappeared into the maze.

Soon after, Wanda entered. The Slytherin people conjured a serpent of artifice through the air that disappeared as soon as she walked into the maze.

And then Maria Hill last, the Beaubatox crowd clapping their feet until she entered.

Just like the second task, all that was left for the crowd to do was wait once the champions entered. So as soon as the gate closed, the students started talking animatedly among themselves, in addition to the betting chart that began to circulate.

You also noticed that the reporters of the Daily Prophet were asking the cheering people in the front row about the bets for the winners.

Trying to distract yourself from the sense of worry that had taken over you most likely linked to the fact that Wanda was inside a place dangerous enough to kill her, you tried to engage in some of the conversation with your friends.

//-//

With thirty minutes to go, a movement in the field below caught your attention.

"Y/N, isn't that your father?" Gamora asked poking you in the ribs to call you, but you were already looking down.

Your father was not alone. There were four other witches with him that you had never seen before, but judging by their capes, they were aurors from the ministry, as they were dressed exactly like the witches that day in the cup.

There was a sudden movement among the teachers, and then the aurors were opening the gate to the maze and Headmistress Harkness was talking to the judges, all looking extremely worried. The crowd was buzzing, and it didn't take long for the comments to reach you.

"They're saying they're going to cancel the test!" Told a Ravenclaw girl who had just leaned forward to listen to her classmates, and then he turned and said to you and Gamora, making you both widen your eyes. You looked around next, in time to catch Tony coming down the bleachers from the side until he reached your father.

"What do you think happened?" Gamora asked you.

"I don't know, but it doesn't look good." You replied already moving to leave in Tony's direction. Gamora and Nebula looked at you, but you just signaled for them to wait up there.

When you reached Tony and your father, they seemed to be arguing.

"You didn't think to send at least a letter?" Tony squawked angrily, but your father was distracted, looking around and especially back at the entrance to the maze.

"I can't talk now, Tony, please." The man asked. He gave you a short smile as you approached, and Bucky and Steve joined you all next.

"Dad, what's going on?" You asked, but before your father could say anything, the principal was asking the students to return to the castle and the crowd erupted in booing.

The tournament judges were commenting quietly among themselves, and you frowned when Professor Erik approached and whispered something in your father's ear, who made a worried frown.

"Go back to the castle." Your father ordered looking at you and Tony, but you didn't move and Tony pushed your father's hand away.

They began to argue, but you felt your whole body shiver all at once, and you looked back, thinking that someone had called your name.

Professor Erik looked at you curiously, but before he could do anything, you ran past him and into the maze.

//-//

Gasping for breath from the run, you blinked in confusion as you stopped at a crossroads. Your head was spinning slightly, and you looked around.

The maze was dark, and the walls were high and shadowed the path. You noticed that the noise of the crowd was muffled from the inside.

Taking the left path, you were not fully conscious, following only the magnetic energy that seemed to pull you around the correct path.

Your wand was raised to your hand, an illumination spell that you don't remember conjuring. You frowned slightly when you noticed another light, and then Maria Hill was standing in front of you.

"Who are you?" she asked, but you didn't answer, walking past her in a mechanical manner. The girl looked at you with confusion. "Girl, can you hear me?"

"Wanda." You whispered without stopping your walk. Maria hesitated but then began to follow you through the labyrinth.

"Are you hexed?" She asked curiously but got no answer. When she tried to hold you by the shoulders, you pushed her to the ground. "Hey, no need for that!"

You didn't answer and Maria sighed in irritation as she stood up, running lightly to catch up with you as you turned the corner.

The tugging on your abdomen began to get stronger, and then you reached the center of the maze.

"Wow, you found the center." Maria commented in surprise next to you. "But where's the cup?"

You looked around confused, feeling the pain in your head increase.

And then noises of footsteps and shouting became closer and a moment later your father and Professor Erik entered the center through one of the trails.

"Honey!" Your father exclaimed worriedly, but before he could reach you, you fell to your knees, a shrill cry of pain escaping your throat.

Your vision blurred and you had another vision.

It was the graveyard from your dream, but now much clearer than before. You were attached to something, and there was a tall wizard standing in front of you.

The man turned around and you could see his red eyes staring at you with hatred.

"Erik, what is happening to her?" You heard your father's voice sound muffled by the ringing in your ear. You were trying to breathe normally, lying on the grass with your hands on your head.

"Look out, Howard!" It was Professor Erik's voice, but you didn't have the strength to look up.

"Protego!" Someone shouted the incantation next to you, maybe it was Maria but you can't open your eyes to see.

The pain in your head seemed to subside slightly and you forced your gaze upward, not understanding what was happening.

There were two bright lights in front of you. The image was not very clear because of the pain, but you struggled to understand what you were witnessing.

A wizard you didn't know was exchanging spells with Professor Erik. And Bucky was standing next to him, his robotic movements exactly matching those of the mysterious sorcerer. Your father was dueling with the younger one.

The unknown wizard let out an angry grunt, and said something in a language you didn't recognize, and then a green light shot out of Bucky's wand and hit your father in the chest, knocking him backwards.

"Stupefy!" Shouted a female voice from your side, and the spell hit Bucky squarely.

You whimpered in pain again, and could stare no longer.

A few minutes passed before you gasped back to consciousness, or perhaps it was hours. Your tears wet your shirt, and you coughed helplessly.

You raised your eyes to a scene that you didn't understand at first.

There were three people lying on the ground. A man you had never seen before, Bucky and your father, and Professor Erik was kneeling beside the last.

You blinked in confusion and then Tony came running out of the other opening and he widened his eyes when he noticed father.

"Hey, can you stand?" it was Jean Grey beside you. Maria Hill was holding you in her other arm, and you blinked in confusion at both of them.

"Where am I?" you grumbled, and then looked forward again. Tony ran up to your father, and you widened your eyes.

"Dad?" Tony asked with his face wet with tears. "Dad? Wake up!

"Stark..." Erik started as he touched the boy's shoulder, but your brother didn't look at him as he pushed his hand away.

You forced yourself to get up and with the help of the girls you succeeded. You took two steps and then fell to your knees again, understanding what had happened.

You had just witnessed your father being murdered.

//-//

The maze was dismantled from the inside out.

The rest of the teachers moved to remove the incantations and the maze disappeared around you, while you and Tony were kneeling beside the body of your father.

Soon there were reporters trying to reach the center, but Principal Harkness ordered them to stay away.

The aurors from the ministry were also there and they conjured a containment spell around the man who dueled the professor.

"We need to get the children out of here, Harkness." You heard someone say, but their gaze was on your lap, the hand you entwined with your father's.

"We don't know how many of them then here." Another witch said.

"Darlings, let's go inside, okay?" Professor Erik asked you. You were too tired to contradict, but Tony refused.

He said something about responsibility, and they did not contradict him again. You were led out of the maze, however, and the place where the entrance was located was empty.

The reporters who had been thrown out approached you and the ministry's auror immediately as soon as they saw you two, and you blinked at the flashes of the cameras.

"Can you tell us what happened inside the maze Miss Stark?"

"How are you and your brother going to take care of the fortune now that you are Howard's heirs?"

The lack of sensitivity made your stomach turn, but you were too tired to cry.

The auror who was with you said something to keep the reporters away, and then you were taken back to the castle.

"Hey, kid, are you still with me?" The lady asked as she knelt in front of you, her expression concerned.

You sighed, feeling an urgency to close your eyes. You think she called you again before you blacked out.

//-//

When you woke up, it was warm. And when you realized that you were in the infirmary, it took you a few moments to remember everything that had happened. As you did so, you began to cry. Finally understanding that your father was dead.

Your pillow got wet, but you didn't care, finding it hard to see past the tears.

"Hey." It was Tony, looking extremely tired, standing at your bedside. You couldn't tell if he was already there when you woke up, or if he had entered the infirmary at that moment, but you didn't ask. He lay down on the bed with you next, and hugged you.

You know that he was crying too, even though you didn't look at him.

You eventually fell asleep between sobs, and when you woke up again, you were feeling better physically.

Tony was standing in the doorway of the infirmary, talking to the Auror who brought you in. When she noticed you looking, she nodded slightly to Tony and he looked at you, forcing a smile.

The two wizards walked over to you next, and you sat down on the bed.

"Hey, are you feeling better?" Tony asked and you shrugged. "Carol wants to ask you some questions."

You looked away from Tony to the woman, and she looked slightly embarrassed to have to question you after a situation like this, but she did it anyway.

"My name is Carol Danvers, Miss Stark." She introduced herself first. "I am an auror from the ministry of magic. I brought you to the infirmary, can you remember this?"

You nodded in agreement.

"I need to tell you some things, and then I'll ask you about what happened in the maze, okay?" She asked and waited for you to confirm before she started talking.

Carol explained to you how the dark wizard Korvac used polyjuice potion to disguise himself as Professor Fury all year long, and infiltrate the tournament organization. The real Fury was a family friend of the auror and was able to warn her in some way that she didn't tell you, and then the aurors used flu powder to get to Hogwarts. Your father was still an auror in secret to the ministry, and so he also joined the operation group.

When the Aurors arrived, however, Korvac had already entered the maze and they went after him. Neither your father nor the professor were supposed to enter the maze, but when you did, your brother followed, and consequently Steve and Bucky did the same. Your father and the professor went after, but the maze was enchanted to make everyone get lost, and that's exactly what happened. While you were guided by your connection to Wanda, everyone else was lost all around.

Carol told you that Korvac had found Bucky and used the Imperio curse to control him, so he was fighting on behalf of the dark wizard against both your father and your teacher. With Jean Grey's intervention, Bucky was knocked out and Professor Erik hit Korvac, but it was too late.

Everyone eventually found themselves in the middle and the maze was dismantled. Tony had already given his statement to the ministry, and Korvac was sent to Azkaban.

"Your brother told me that you have some kind of magical bond with one of the champions and that's why you went into the maze right?" Carol asked as you wiped away your tears. You sniffled slightly as you confirmed. "Miss Maximoff won the competition and she has also talked to my colleagues about what she saw in the cup portal."

"W-what?" you questioned with confusion.

Carol sighed slightly and then her posture changed. She looked back for a minute.

"Look, I trusted your father. He knew there was corruption in the ministry, and he warned me about it when he recommended me to work with him." She began as if telling a secret. "Let's keep that between us for now. I don't know who I can trust in that department."

Carol told about how the triwizard cup was bewitched to become a portal key, most likely by Korvac. She repeated Wanda's words to you, saying that the girl had ended up in a graveyard with the remnants of Mephisto's followers in place. Wanda also said that Mephisto himself had returned and that they faced each other. She managed to escape by touching the cup again.

What made you angry was knowing that the minister didn't believe any of her words, and refused to acknowledge Mephisto's return. The whole thing would be treated as a trial of the tournament that got out of hand, and Korvac, who had been captured, would be accused of all the crimes.

Carol didn't seem happy with the minister's decision either.

"I have nothing to say but tell the minister to go fuck himself, Carol." You informed irritated and the blonde smiled at you.

"You inherited your father's attitude." She comments and you think the intention is good, but it makes your heart ache. "I will close your statement then. Thank you very much for your time, Miss Stark."

You nod and Carol hesitates. She sighs lightly and touches your brother on the shoulder and your outstretched hand on the bed.

"I used to be friends with your father." She says. "Don't think you are alone, children. You have more family than you can imagine. And you can contact me if you need anything."

Carol smiles and walks away with a nod. You and Tony exchange a slightly surprised look. Tony sighs and sits down next to you on the bed. You say nothing, but you both know that this should be one more among your father's many secrets.

//-//

Nurse Cho released you from the infirmary that same afternoon.

Aside from the mental exhaustion, you were perfectly healthy.

Your friends, with the exception of the Maximoff twins, approach you in the dormitory. They hug you together, mourning the death of your father. You want to say that you feel a little better about this, but that is not true.

As you are seen in the corridors, students and professors stop you to say "my sympathies", and you answer them in a polite way. You can also hear the gossip after all.

Wanda did not obey the order of the minister of magic, and when the journalists of the Daily Prophet asked her about the tournament, she told her version. Nobody bought her story, and she was branded a liar after the minister denied the return of the dark wizard.

Professor Erik also greeted you in the hallways, and Pietro was with him. The boy hugged you tight, and you held back your tears.

"Stark, my home is always open to you and your brother." Erik said as his hand was on your shoulder. "I just want you to know that."

You nodded in understanding and then walked toward the communal hall intending to organize your belongings, since the school year would end that week.

//-//

On your last day at Hogwarts, you finally talked to Wanda.

Because your nightmares had become more frequent than ever, you had spent the last days at school without sleeping properly, and on the last night you gave up sleeping and decided to go to the kitchens.

You were in the empty halls when you heard the familiar noise of Drax monitoring the castle and stumbled to the first door you found, trying to avoid being seen.

As you waited for the hissing noise to become distant, you looked back and gasped in surprise.

There was a girl sitting on the floor and it took you a few seconds to realize that it was Wanda.

"What are you doing here?" You asked curiously, and your voice startled her. She stood up quickly, looking at you in surprise.

"Shit, you scared the hell out of me!" She complained and you frowned slightly as you realized she was crying, but Wanda quickly wiped her face.

Only at that moment did you notice the large antique mirror behind her. On the metal rim was a Latin phrase that you didn't understand.

Biting the inside of your cheeks, you looked away to the floor.

"Sorry to bother you, I couldn't sleep." You mumbled clumsily and Wanda shifted the weight of her feet before clearing her throat.

"Do you wanna stay?"

You raised your head in surprise, but then nodded in agreement.

Walking up to the girl, you stopped about four steps away from her, not knowing exactly what to do next.

"Are you going to tell me what you were doing here?" You asked again, and Wanda bit her lips before turning toward the mirror.

"I found this place in second grade." She counters. "That's the Mirror of Erised."

"I am supposed to know what that means?" You ask with mild irony causing Wanda to smile slightly.

"We studied that in fourth grade, so yes." She retorts.

"I haven't been busy this year, no time for books, if you know what I mean." You say with a smile and Wanda laughs softly. You stare at the mirror in front of you, but there is nothing special about it. It seems to reflect you and Wanda just like any other. "What does this mirror do anyway?"

Wanda turns her face to you, and you want to ignore the nervous feeling that settles on the edge of your stomach, but to no avail.

"Look closer." She says, and her gaze lingers on you for a moment before she takes a step to the side. You turn your face to the mirror again, and then step forward.

It takes a second for the image to change. It is you in the reflection, but you are not alone. Your father is standing beside you, smiling contently. You frown in confusion, gasping slightly at his sudden appearance.

Ignoring the lump in your throat, you continue to stare. The image trembles slightly, and you try to understand what the mirror is telling you. Nothing looks much different except the image of your father, but then you notice the wedding ring in your reflection.

You look down at your hand for a moment and then back at the reflection. Your image copies the movement with delay and you squeeze your eyes shut to read the letters on the ring.

Your face heats up as you read Wanda's name and you take a step back. The image becomes fainter, but doesn't disappear.

"What do you see?" Wanda asks curiously from beside you, and you startle, turning your head to her quickly.

"M-my father." You answer at the same moment, biting your tongue to make sure you don't say anything else. Wanda's expression tumbles, and she looks down at her feet. You swallow dryly.

"I'm sorry, y/n. I really am." She whispers, and you look away. There is something that is bothering you as much as your father's death, and it is the distance that seems to exist between you and Wanda now.

"Thank you." You mumble the response you have learned to give whenever someone says that to you. "W-what do you see in the mirror?" You ask next, trying to change the subject from you. Wanda looks surprised at the question and even in the low lighting, you notice the slight redness in her cheeks.

"My mother." She answers without looking at you. "And... myself. No magic. Just me and her, and Pietro and papa at a distance. We look happy and normal."

It is the most intimate confession Wanda has ever made to you. You want to caress her face, hug her and thank her for her trust, but you just nod in agreement, swallowing her words and pushing the desire to touch down.

"Have you been here many times?" You ask after a moment and Wanda sighs before confirming. "You never told me about this place before."

"I never told anyone." She retorts without sounding angry, just slightly weary. "I guess I wanted it to be something just mine."

"I understand." You comment as you look into the mirror again, the image of your reflection and Wanda's now visible. "A private space for you to visit your mother."

Wanda murmurs in agreement, and you think she won't say anything else, but she does.

"I need to tell you something."

You turn your head toward Wanda's direction, but when she turns her body toward you, she keeps her gaze on the floor.

"About the day of the task." She says. "About Mephisto."

"Okay." You mumble as you wait. Wanda takes a deep breath.

"I guess you've heard from the whole school that I fought with him." She starts with a sad smile, and you nod in agreement. "Well, there's a reason he couldn't kill me."

You frown with confusion.

"Right...why?"

"It’s better if i show you." She takes a deep breath, raising her hands between you. "Can I?" she asks, and you notice the red magic escaping her fingers.

"You can do that?" You ask impressed and Wanda nods with a shy smile. When you consent, she raises her fingers to your forehead and then you have another vision.

You see the moment when Wanda was teleported into the graveyard, and it's as if you're seeing everything through her eyes.

The moment when a hooded wizard appeared and locked Wanda in a spell against one of the tombstones. You watched the wizard walk to the center of the graveyard and conjure a rune on the ground that you didn't recognize. He recited a few words and then cast an incantation in the sky. The mark of a hydra.

Walking back to the rune, the sorcerer deposited a necklace on the ground. With a dagger he took from his pocket, he recited an incantation in a language you didn't recognize, and cut his own palm. When the blood fell on the necklace, Wanda gasped in pain.

The ground around the rune began to open up and a man crawled out of the earth. You imagined it was a necromancy ritual and they were resurrecting someone. You didn't have to ask to know that it was Mephisto.

When the wizard stood up completely, he laughed darkly. The man who helped him bowed.

"Master, you live!" Celebrated the wizard. Mephisto approached, a gentle flick of his wand wiped all the dirt from his robes, and you could see the metallic Hydra strolling along the entire length of his robes, as if getting used to being awake again.

"All thanks to you, John." Mephisto said his deep voice echoing through the room. "Your loyalty will be rewarded, my friend."

"Thank you, master." Said the man without raising his head. Mephisto touched his hood, pulling it back, and you looked at the kneeling figure. He was a man of about thirty, his blond hair was long and dirty. There was a deep scar across his cheek to the extent of his right eye, which was closed.

Mephisto raised his wand toward the young man's face, and a silver spell escaped from the tip along the scar. The mark didn't disappear, but when he opened his eye, you noticed the metallic glow of the reddish iris.

"Be my eyes again, John Walker." Mephisto commanded and the boy thanked him again. He continued kneeling as Mephisto turned toward Wanda, who was still attached to the tombstone. "I almost forgot about my guest of honor."

"Who are you?" Wanda asked angrily, you could almost feel her fear.

Mephisto smiled devilishly, ignoring the question as he took a deep breath. He raised his wand high and the Hydra's mark seemed to glow even brighter.

In the following moments, shadows began to appear in the sky, and only when the first one of them landed on the ground that you understood that they were wizards appearing.

There were at least eight of them, but because of their position, Wanda couldn't see them all. The masked witches remained static, waiting for their companions. Mephisto murmured softly, and after a moment without any movement in the sky, he sighed.

"It is only at our worst that we see who is really loyal to us." He comments somberly, before opening his arms to the crowd. "Friends! It's so good to see you all again, finally. So many years!"

Mephisto's smile doesn't reach his eyes, and then the wizards are kneeling, and recite together an "It is an honor, master." Mephisto laughs lightly, lowering his arms.

"Look at you folks." He comments with a psychotic look on his face. "You're not even ashamed that you abandoned me." He charges, but no one speaks up. Mephisto sighs impatiently. "No one has anything to say? What a disappointment."

"Master..." Started a wizard on the edge and then Mephisto raised his fist toward him hanging him in the air with his magic. Wanda's eyes widened, but the wizard let go just before the one in the air stopped struggling. As the wizard coughed to try to breathe again, Mephisto pushed his long hair out of the front of his face.

"I don't want your hollow apologies, Zemo." He says. "Nothing will erase the betrayal of all of you, cowards."

No one makes any mention of interrupting the speech, and Mephisto puts his cloak away momentarily.

"But a new era begins, and we need to leave the past behind." Says the mage. "I finally have my treasure where I wanted it, and nothing will stop me from reaching my power again."

Mephisto turns to Wanda now, a mental look on his face. The wizards look at her too.

"Master, is this...?" One of the masked men begins, and Mephisto interrupts with a devilish grin.

"Yes, my friend!" He says. "The Scarlet Witch."

The group loosely shares a buzz of excited excitement, but falls silent the next moment. Wanda wriggles uncomfortably against the spell.

"What is it, my dear?" Mephisto asks as he watches her struggle. "Is it tight? Try a coffin underground. I guarantee the discomfort is greater."

The comment makes Wanda clench her jaw as the group lets out a chuckle.

"I'm not who you say I am." Wanda retorts with irritation and Mephisto lets out a laugh approaching. You wish you could enter the vision to get him away from Wanda.

"Your name is Wanda Maximoff." He says looking her straight in the eye. "You were born in 1989 in a dirty muggle neighborhood of Sokovia. And you are a scarlet witch by birth." He narrates and then his gaze changes to malice. "And you belong to me."

"Fuck you."

Wanda's rude response makes Mephisto smile.

"Perhaps you, my dear friends, were not aware of what really happened that night fifteen years ago." Mephisto says as he turns to the group again. "I can only imagine the lies the ministry of magic must have told the world, making sure to tell I was defeated by some of their pathetic aurors."

The group exchanges surprised looks and Mephisto laughs, walking ahead.

"I think everyone has a right to know what really happened that day, don't you, my dear?" He asks Wanda, and then lets out a wry laugh. "Oh, I forgot that you were just a filthy brat back then. I'd better tell them instead."

Wanda struggles against the grip again and Mephisto raises his wand toward her, causing the spell to tighten more and Wanda to grumble in pain.

"Hold still and listen to the story, little brat." He commands. "Didn't the blood traitor teach you manners?"

You know Mephisto is talking about Wanda's father, but the girl doesn't respond to the teasing.

"Do you remember how well everything was going for us, my friends?" Begins the wizard, and he waits for the group to agree before speaking again. "I should have known that the cursed muggles in your community would bring more trouble than I expected."

Mephisto looks slightly nostalgic, but no one is going to interrupt him. He gives a wry laugh before continuing.

"You know that I was seeking the power of a scarlet sorceress for myself. And well, with all the commotion in the ministry, I decided to capture the child without being accompanied by any of you." He says. "I was always the most powerful, but now that I look back, a companion would have prevented so much delay."

When Wanda makes mention of fighting again, Mephisto strengthens the spell.

"I went to take what was rightfully mine in that muggle pigsty that is Sokovia, and I never expected that a filthy muggle would be able to stop me." He tells you and you notice Wanda's interest in the words, curious to know what he was talking about. "Maybe the traitor lied and she had some witch lineage. We'll never know, since I killed her." He comments humorously. "Contextualizing my friends, I went up to the second floor to get the child of prophecy, and I ended up running into two of them."

Mephisto counters with a wry laugh.

"Crazy isn't it?" He says. "But of course it was easy to figure out who the right baby was, since the sorceress' power emanated in the child's aura. I had no function for the other one so I decided to discard it."

Wanda's eyes widen at the confession. Mephisto was going to kill Pietro. She gasps slightly, feeling her anger rising.

"But the muggle pig begged for mercy." He continues. "You know very well how much I hate muggles, but if she had stood in the corner as I told her to do, I would have done no harm. But of course she had to throw herself in front of the infant, become a pathetic martyr."

The group laughs at the narration and you feel like vomiting. Mephisto stared at his own wand for a few seconds.

"I should have realized the sacrificial bond that was created, but I did not expect such a thing from a muggle." He counters somberly, sounding bitter. "When I skipped over her body and repeated the curse, it came straight back to me."

The group let out a chorus of surprise, but Mephisto just smiled.

"Don't worry, friends. I'm here after all." He says. "But a death curse is powerful enough to injure a body. And so I needed to escape." He counters as he walks around. "I would return for the girl as soon as I could restore myself, but where there is one blood traitor there is always another."

The group listened to the story intently and you swallowed dryly, trying to remember all the details.

"The traitor Stark and that muggle slut he called his wife were waiting for me downstairs." Mephisto counters and you hold your breath. "I knew that in my condition I couldn't stand up to an auror like Stark, but he could be useful to me. It was the perfect opportunity to have someone look after my belongings."

Mephisto sighed lightly.

"I think muggles must have some sort of self-sabotaging lifestyles about throwing themselves in front of spells, folks." He mocked causing the group to exchange confused looks. "I aimed at Stark, commanding him to protect what was mine, but it was the muggle who received the enchantment." He counters and you gasp in surprise. "Stark was furious of course, but I used the moments he spent assisting his wife to apparate."

Mephisto's expression was no longer content.

"My body couldn't handle the power of the apparatation, obviously." He counters. "After the curse, it began to betray me. I was on the brink of death for months, until I finally succumbed. My consciousness shallowed, waiting patiently for my faithful followers to find me. And here we are."

The group lets out a small exclamation and Mephisto forces a smile, straightening his posture.

"But that's in the past, of course." He says. "My sorceress is here for me, and I can regain my full power now."

Wanda swallowed dryly as she watched Mephisto approach. The wizard made a motion with his wand and the grip around her neck shortened slightly.

"I never had any use for the witch's receptacle." He says raising his wand to Wanda, you held your breath. "It's nothing personal, dear. At least you'll meet that pig of a mother of yours in hell."

The green incantation comes out of the small wood next, but never reaches Wanda. A yellow energy bumps into the magic and deflects it almost hitting one of the wizards in the circle. The group moves in fright and Mephisto has a psychotic but surprised look on his face.

"The protective spell... How?" he asks, stepping forward. “The spell killed the muggle, I saw her body! How is it still there?” He angrily asks .

His followers look as surprised as he is, and Mephisto assumes an angry expression. He raises his wand again, and even without saying anything, the emerald incantation escapes and the same thing as before happens. Distracted in his frustration, he doesn't notice that with each attempt, the spell binding Wanda grows weaker, until the fourth time he tries to curse the girl, the golden light explodes in the air, ricocheting light startling all the wizards in the circle, as Wanda falls to her knees, free.

The second of shock from the group is enough for Wanda to cause a wave of energy with her powers that kept the wizards away as she reaches for the cup at her feet, teleporting back to the school.

You stumble out of the memory, your eyes watering.

Wanda looks at you, but you turn away feeling overwhelmed by the amount of information.

"W-what was that?" You gasp taking another step back.

"I'm sorry if that was too much." She hastens to say. "I-I needed to tell you. About your mother."

You wipe away the tears, moving further away.

"I can't do this." You grumble. "Not now. M-my father just died, Wanda. I can't. I'm sorry."

The words are a little disjointed, but Wanda understands. She doesn't stop you when you rush to leave the room.

//-//

Coming home is much more difficult than any other time.

The ride on the Hogwarts express is longer than ever, but you don't mind, wanting to avoid the moment when you and Tony will set foot home without your father.

Jarvis picks the four of you up at the station, and you are grateful that Gamora lets you eat all her candy left over from the trip.

The whole feeling of stepping into the house and looking around and seeing your father's objects all around is oppressive, but you try to get used to it. You think the conversation with Tony about your mother can wait.

//-//

Tag list ( let me know if you want to be tagged or removed idk haha) @mionemymind / @abimess / @stephanieromanoff / @yourtaletotell / @tomy5girls / @justagaypanicking / @thegayw1tch / @idek-5 // @myperfectlovepoem // @helloalycia // @ENSORCELLME // @AIMEZVOUSBRAHMS @imapotatao / @aimezvousbrahms/ @ensorcellme/ @helloalycia // @ichala || @madamevirgo

#wanda maximoff x reader #wanda x reader #wanda maximoff #wanda x you #wandaxreader #wandaxyou #wanda maximoff x you #wandamaximoffxreader #wanda x yn #marvel imagines #avengers imagines #avengers #The Scarlet Witch Prophecy

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yelena-bellova · 3 years

Text

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

chapter five - Chapter Six: Ten Minutes - chapter seven

Series Masterlist

Plot: Y/n, Sam, Bucky and Zemo investigate around Riga for any sign of the Flag Smashers, Y/n and Bucky spend some unconventional time together.

Word Count: 6.9k

Warnings: spoilers for episode. 4, a little language, flirty Bucky (which is a warning in and of itself, Walker’s an asshole, Y/n is still a badass, sloooow burn, lil’ bit of spice 🔥

A/N: First off, I just want to thank everybody for all the kind messages/asks/comments you've left on this series. I honestly didn’t expect this kind of response when I started writing this and have been blown away with each chapter. Seriously, it means a lot! 🥰 Okay so I’m not gonna lie, this chapter’s a little slower than usual whereas next chapter is going to be...well, if you’re reading this you’ve seen the episode so you obviously know lol. But this chapter sets up some pretty big shit so it’s not useless, enjoy!!

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I felt like a bit of a romantic cliche as I threw myself facedown on Zemo’s living room couch, hot off the heels of my realization about Bucky. But seeing as we didn’t have any leads and the Super Soldier wasn’t back from his “walk,” I felt I had earned it. “Hey,” I felt the weight of a jacket land on my back, “Whatcha got going on in that head?” I chuckled into the pillow, if Sam could see the thoughts bouncing around my brain, he’d have his wings on in a flash and would be flying around the city hunting Bucky down. Luckily, Bucky wasn’t the only thing I was thinking about. I turned on my side to see him sitting on a barstool in the kitchen, “I don’t think I give you enough credit for what you do.” “What are you talking about?”

“I knew that avenging wasn’t some cushy day job but,” I swung my legs over the couch and sat up, “I never realized how hard it actually was and this isn’t even one of the harder missions!” Sam smirked and raised his brows, “An army of Super Soldiers isn’t enough for you? You want more?”

I rolled my eyes, “I’m just saying, you’ve faced a whole lot worse. I tangle with a couple bounty hunters and I’m gonna be aching for weeks,” I rose with a groan, eliciting a chuckle out of Sam, “Don’t get me wrong, I like what we’re doing, but I definitely underestimated how challenging it was.” “You’re doing a better job than you think,” Sam said, “I know yesterday was hard on you, but you’re handling all of the really well. I’m proud of you.” I made my way over to him and put an arm around his shoulder, “Still regret bringing me?” “Nah,” he locked an arm around my waist and pulled me into his side, “It’s nice having you here, it’s like having a little piece of home with me.” Since we were in grade school, Sam had been one of the only constants in my life and sitting in the middle of Latvia chasing down Super Soldiers, I had never been more thankful for him. I knew that becoming Captain America was out of the question but if ever there were a Cap that I would follow, it would have been Sam.

The front door and the bathroom door opened at the same time, revealing Bucky back from his walk and Zemo from his shower.

“Well, the Wakandans are here,” Bucky announced as he came to the center of the room, “They want Zemo. Bought us some more time.”

“Were you followed?” Sam asked, both of us unwrapping our arms from around one another. “No.” “How can you be so sure?” Zemo asked, staring out the stained glass windows.

“Cause I know when I’m being followed,” Bucky replied, coming to stand across from me on the other side of the kitchen island.

“It was sweet of you to defend me at least,” Zemo said.

“Hey, you shut it,” Sam turned his attention to the Baron, “No one’s defending you. You killed Nagal.”

“Do we really have to litigate what may or may not have happened?” Zemo replied.

I leaned up against the island and squinted at the man, “There’s nothing to litigate, we all watched you shoot the guy.”

“Sam, Y/n…” We both turned to face Bucky, staring down at his phone intently. “Karli bombed a GRC supply depot.”

“What?” I said breathlessly, “Were there any casualties?”

“Eleven injured, three dead,” Bucky read the article, “They have a list of demands and are promising more attacks if those demands aren’t met.”

Zemo walked around the island to grab a pack of cookies, “She’s getting worse. I have the will to complete this mission. Do the three of you?” “She’s just a kid,” Sam said calmly, defending the young girl so many saw as a villain.

“You’re seeing something in her that isn’t there,” Zemo waved him off, “You’re clouded by it. She’s a supremacist. The very concept of a Super Soldier will always trouble people. It’s that warped aspiration that led to Nazis, to Ultron…to the Avengers.” “Hey, those are our friends you’re talking about,” Sam stepped quickly.

“The Avengers, not the Nazis,” Bucky followed up with.

Sam continued, “So, Karli is radicalized, but there has to be a peaceful way to stop her.”

“The desire to become a superhuman cannot be separated from supremacist ideals,” Zemo said, “Anyone with that serum is inherently on that path. She will not stop. She will escalate until you kill her,” the room’s silence became a whole lot heavier, “Or she kills you.” “Maybe you’re wrong, Zemo,” Bucky spoke up, “The serum never corrupted Steve.” “Yeah,” I agreed, peeking over my shoulder at Bucky, “But it didn’t corrupt you either.” Zemo picked up a ring shaped cookie on his finger and pointed to Bucky, “Touché, but there has never been another Steve Rogers, has there?” He popped the cookie in his mouth and shrugged, turning away from us to make further use of the kitchen.

“Well,” Bucky made his way to the living room, “Maybe we should give him to the Wakandans right now.” “And you’ll give up your tour guide?” Zemo asked, searching through cupboards.

“Yes,” Bucky answered harshly before sitting himself on the couch, leaning his head back and shutting his eyes.

“From my understanding,” Sam said, “Donya is like a pillar of the community, right? So when I was a kid, my TT passed away-“ “Your-“ Bucky squeezed his eyes shut and leaned forward, “Your TT?” “Yeah, my TT, yeah,” Sam replied plainly.

“Who is your TT?” Bucky annoyedly and confusedly asked. I chuckled at the exchange from beside Sam, “His aunt. The whole neighborhood had this big ceremony, it lasted like a week.” “Maybe they’re doing the same thing for Donya,” Sam finished.

“Worth a shot,” Bucky shrugged.

“Your TT would be proud of you,” Zemo said to Sam before tossing him a wrapped candy, “Turkish Delight, irresistible.” ——

We were out the door soon after and heading to Donya’s last known location, a refugee camp in the downtown area.

“Shame what’s become of this place,” Zemo commented when we arrived, “When I was young, we used to come here for fabulous dinners and parties. I knew nothing of the politics of the time, of course, but I remember it being beautiful.” It was hard to picture the beige building ever having been beautiful, the setting was so dismal and grey. It was filled with children and workers, refugees, who all collectively looked worn down. The GRC poster that hung on one of the walls that showed smiling families with their mission statement ‘Reset. Restore. Rebuild.’ was a stark contrast to what those words actually delivered.

“We’ll take a look around upstairs,” Sam said, gesturing to me before turning to Bucky, “See what you can find out and keep an eye on him.”

I left with Sam, climbing the quiet building’s staircase and wandering down the hall. Sam headed through an open doorway that led to a sewing room. “Hey, kid,” he called to one of them, “Excuse me,” he approached one of the only ones who hadn’t run out of the room at our presence, “You heard of Donya Madani?”

“Um,” the girl said, rising from her seat and making for another room, “No. Sorry, no.”

We stood there dumbstruck in the suddenly empty room, it wasn’t until Sam caught the Flag Smasher’s handprint symbol on a sewing box and pointed it out to me that the locked lips made sense. I took the lead and navigated through the crowded rooms, spotting another young person leaving at the sight of us. “Excuse me, do you know the name Donya Ma-“ The boy shut the door on me before I could finish my sentence, I turned to Sam who was close behind me. “Something’s not right,” I mumbled, walking in step with him further down the hall. We finally stumbled upon what looked like a classroom, one man crouched was next to a desk helping a kid and a table with two others who didn’t bolt at the sight of us.

“Excuse me,” Sam announced our presence, “Do you know a woman by the name of Donya Madani?”

The teacher stood to his full height, “We’re not refugees, for we have nothing to seek refuge from. We’re internationally- displaced persons, for what it’s worth, and we don’t trust outsiders.”

“No, I understand,” Sam stepped forward, “I’m not from here, but I have a pretty good track record of helping out.” “I know what happens when people say they’re going to help out,” the teacher tiredly stated, “Nothing. The Global Repatriation Council promised to send more teachers, supplies. That was six months ago.” “What’s your name? I can make a call,” Sam offered immediately, ever the helper.

“I know who you are, but I can’t trust you. I’m sorry,” the man dismissed him, grabbing his other two students and ushering them out of the room, “Let’s go.” The silence was sobering for us both, we may not have found anything about Donya but we’d certainly stumbled upon something of importance. And as we left the building with our heads metaphorically hung, I could feel that he was just as impacted as I was by it. “I didn’t realize it was so bleak,” I said as we went down the stairs, “The government’s done a great job of painting a different picture for people like us.”

“That could be said for a lot of things,” he replied, “But no, I didn’t think it was this bad either.”

We rejoined Bucky who was watching Zemo intently as he sat in front of a grouping of kids, a pile of candy in between them. “This is starting to feel like a dead end,” Sam commented.

“The hell is he doing?” Bucky accompanied.

“And why in Latvia does nobody raise an eyebrow at a stranger offering kids candy?” I observed as Zemo stood, approached the kids once more and came back to us. “Cute kids,” he smiled, leaving the three of us to share an unconvinced look after.

——

We returned to our hideout shortly after, defeated and all too aware of how fast the clock was ticking.

“Well, I got nothin’,” Bucky said as the three of us made our way to the couch, “No one’s talkin’ about Donya.” “Yeah, it’s because Karli is the one fighting for them,” Sam replied, “And she’s not wrong.” “What do you mean?” Bucky’s tone was low and exhausted, but I could have sworn that his eyes brightened for a millisecond when I plopped down next to him.

Sam sighed, “For five years, people have been welcomed into countries that have kept them out using barbwire. There were houses and jobs. Folks were happy to have people around to help them rebuild. It wasn’t just one community coming together, it was the entire world coming together. And then, boom,” he snapped his fingers, “Just like that, it goes right back to the way it used to be. To them, at least Karli’s doin’ something.” “He’s right,” I chimed in, memories of how the world was for five years flooded my brain, “Things were messy but they were…one. Everybody came together because we needed to, there was less room for segregation or prejudice. When things went back, the government made some really bad decisions. And for those of us who weren’t blipped, it was difficult to watch. I’m not saying that I support the Flag Smashers but I do understand why Karli’s doing what she’s doing.” “You really think her ends justify her means?” Bucky’s furrowed brows bounced between Sam and I, “Then she’s no different than him,” he gestured to Zemo who was making tea, “Or anybody else we’ve fought.” “I didn’t say that. She’s different,” I argued, tucking my legs under me and twisting to fully face him, “She's not fighting for word domination or something, she’s fighting for those who’ve lost everything. She’s just...misguided in her approach. ”

Zemo came and set the tray of cups and tea down on the table in front of us, a little too quiet. “That girl,” Bucky addressed him, “What’d she tell you?” The Baron kept up his silence as he thought to himself, eyes flicking between the three of us. “The funeral is this afternoon.” I blinked and awaited the rest of the answer, “That’s all you want to say?” “You know the Dora’s coming for you any minute,” Bucky stated, a bit of amusement in his eyes at the thought of the Wakandan warriors taking him away, “In fact, they’re probably lurking outside right now. Keep talking.” “Leaving you to turn on me once we get to Karli,” Zemo hummed, “I prefer to keep my leverage.” Exasperatedly, I looked over to Sam who looked just as done with the Sokovian royal as I was. Bucky rose from beside me and circled around to face Zemo, ripping the glass heeled in his hands and launching it at the wall, it shattered upon impact. “You wanna see what someone can do with leverage?” Bucky growled, I had to ignore the pit in my stomach that developed anytime Bucky’s voice reached a low decibel.

Sam and I were up and ready to deescalate the situation, him stepping behind Zemo and me placing a hand around Bucky’s metal arm. “Take it easy,” Sam said cautiously, “Don’t engage him. He’s just gonna extort you and do that stupid head tilt thing.” I turned in towards Bucky, the close proximity allowing me to talk softer. “He’s not worth it,” I muttered, his head moving slightly in my direction as I spoke.

“Let me make a call,” Sam said, walking off and slapping Bucky on the shoulder as he left.

My loyalty to Bucky prevented me from leaving until I knew he was alright and wouldn’t pummel our only lead to a pulp. As his stare lessened in intensity, so did my grip till my fingers ghosted over his bicep. “You want some cherry blossom tea?” Zemo awkwardly asked. “No, you go ahead,” Bucky answered with contempt, walking away with me following close by.

“So what are we supposed to do?” I asked as Bucky and I walked through the luxurious apartment, “Sit on our asses until he decides to give us breadcrumbs of information?”

“He’ll talk, eventually,” Bucky grumbled, “Even if I have to make him.” Why I was finding this side of him attractive, I couldn’t make sense of. Shoving that aside, I took the more practical approach. I gripped his arm to stop him from going further, “He wants to screw with your mind, don’t let him.”

Bucky bit down on his bottom lip and dropped his line of vision to the ground, silently admitting that I was right. There was something so strange about how easy him and I had become around one another so fast. I could level with him now like I’d known him for ages and he’d actually listen to me. The oddest part was that it felt so natural.

“Now,” I dropped my hand from his body and went to place it on my hip, “Sam’s on the- ow!”

“What? What is it?” Bucky jumped to attention, his metal hand instinctively reaching for my arm.

The pain had stemmed from my abdomen, radiating down to my waist. I pulled up the hem of my shirt and looked down to see an ugly purple bruise on my side. “Shit,” Bucky mumbled, bending down but quickly popping back up with an innocent gaze, “Can I…?” “Yeah,” I quickly replied, watching him crouch down to get a look at the injury, one of his metal fingers running over the colored skin with a featherlight touch. I prayed that he didn’t take notice of how my breath hitched when the cool Vibranium made contact with my body.

“How did you get this?” he asked with a laser-like focus on my stomach. “Must’ve been from yesterday in the shipyard,” I eked out, we were in close enough proximity that he was starting to cloud my head, “One of the bounty hunters had me in a death grip at one point.”

Bucky shook his head, his tongue darting out to wet his lips as he rose back up. “I’ll be fine, it’s just a bruise,” I said, pulling my shirt back down when a lightbulb suddenly went off in my head, “Although…” “What?” “I think I’ve got an idea on how you can work out your aggression and this,” I pointed to my side, “Can happen less.” I made my way down the hall, trying to find the right door that would lead to the right room. Turning each knob, I finally found a set of french doors that led to a terrace with a view of the beautiful city. Expecting and correctly guessing that Bucky had followed me, I spun around to face him. “Teach me how to fight.” “Are you kidding?” Bucky’s scrunched in disbelief, “No.” “Come on,” I pleaded, “I think we can both agree that I’m lacking in combat skills and if we’re going to end up fighting more Super Soldiers, I need to be more prepared than last time. Plus,” I pointed a finger at him, “You’re pissed and you need to let it out.”

Bucky scoffed, “I’m not going to let it out on you.” Rolling my eyes thoroughly, I created a force field to separate the two of us, “I’m pretty sure I can handle myself. But if you want to let me get my ass kicked, that’s fine…”

I watched as he let out a single chuckle, “You’re really gonna be like that?” “Yes,” I replied, trying to contain my smile, “I’m really gonna be like that.

He took leisurely steps toward me and started to circle me. I turned with him to keep the force field between us, smirks spreading across both our faces. “Alright, fine. As long as you promise not to go full throttle on me,” he gestured to the hands that had blue energy flowing from them.

“Fine,” I thinned my eyes at him, absorbing the force field back into my body, “But you better keep that arm in check.”

We separated from each other and I walked to my corner of the terrace to remove my jacket. When I turned to see Bucky doing the same, my eyes fell to his fit torso that was threateningly to bust the seams of his tight black t-shirt. In the Latvian sun, you could see the outline of each muscle of his chest and each vein that bulged in his arms was highlighted. Since the first time I’d gotten close enough to admire him, I’d had no shame in admitting to myself that Bucky was attractive. Now that I was actually starting to fall for him, there was a nervousness that came with appreciating his roguish good looks. I shook my head and dragged my gaze away from his body, trying to focus on his eyes as we walked towards one another. Not that I was any better off, they were just as enticing as the rest of him was… “Do you know how to punch?” he asked, I held up a fist and he examined it, “Okay, so that’s a no.” He placed his hands on my hips gently as to not disturb my bruise and turned me around, “Bring one of your feet back and out a little,” he instructed, I listened and he took a step back to accommodate me. “Now,” his hands moved to lightly grasp my arms, “Tuck your elbows into your body.” I swallowed hard as I followed his directions, his chest was now almost flush against my back and it was more than distracting. The closer Bucky and I got, the more muddled my thoughts became until he became the only clear one. With him pressed against me, his hands gently holding my arms and his breath fanning my shoulder, it was a miracle I could remember my own name.

“Now squeeze your abs, as long as it doesn’t hurt too much,” he said softly, inching a little closer as if to make sure I could hear him properly. Goosebumps I hoped he didn’t see erupted across my skin, I did as he said and ignored the pain it caused me. Bucky could have given me any instruction and I’d have followed, I was completely under his spell.

His hands left me and he came around to stand in front of me, “When you swing, you want to move with your whole body. You’re gonna push off with that foot,” he nudged my furthest ankle with his boot, “And turn your hips with it, but don’t over exaggerate or else you’ll lose your momentum. Your hand,” he took my improper fist into his palm and positioned my thumb below my fingers, holding onto it as he looked back up, “Should look like this.” My lips parted as I watched him mold my hand to his liking, my heart rate picking up as our eyes met. Bucky let go and held out his flesh arm to act as my target, smirking once again, “Alright, give it all you’ve got.”

I swung my fist forward and met his hand, only succeeding in making contact and nothing more. For a second I forgot that I was fighting a Super Soldier.

“Good,” he commended me nonetheless, “Again.”

I readjusted my stance and brought my fist forward again, I still couldn’t move him.

“Again.” Smack.

“Again.”

Smack.

“Again.” Smack.

“Again.” With hardly a thought, I focused my energy out of my fist as it collided with Bucky’s palm and sent his arm back in a mist of blue. I pulled my elbows back into my torso, gasping at what I’d done but not entirely unhappy with the results. Bucky looked just as surprised, turning to me with widened eyes and his pouty lips shaped in an ‘o’.

“Did you know you could do that?” he asked.

“I don’t know, the idea just came to me,” I answered, “Can I try that again?” Bucky held out his palm again and I repeated my attack, his arm jolting back upon impact once again. “I think I may have just made this a fair fight,” I said slyly, challenging him with one raised brow.

“I think you’re exaggerating a little,” he shot back, I could see the mischievous gleam in his eye that accompanied his words.

I shrugged innocently, “Guess we won’t know until we test it.”

Bucky’s wandering tongue darted out to the side of his mouth as he smiled, “I only taught you how to punch, but alright.”

He took a step closer to me, slowly and playfully putting out a hand towards me to act like he was going to attack me. I held my hand up and built a small force field to block him. Going a little faster, he raised his metal hand and I repeated the action of shielding myself. We kept going until him and I were moving across the terrace with me creating force field after force field to block Bucky’s attack. When my back hit the ledge, I shot up into the air and landed a few feet behind him.

“Is that a fair fight?” Bucky asked as he approached me.

“No, it’s not,” I sighed and lowered my head, looking back up with a smile, “It’s actually a little too easy.”

Bucky started throwing punches, me blocking each one with my palm radiating energy to lessen the impact of his hits. I was so focused that I didn’t see him lift his foot until I had landed on my back with a groan after he’d swept my leg. He pinned me, holding my arms above my head and gripping my wrists so I couldn’t attack. I squirmed a little, unable to move underneath his weight that simultaneously crushed me and sent a thrill through me.

“You were saying?” he smirked, our faces only inches apart and his lips just a little too alluring to continue ignoring. This was a different Bucky than I had become used to, he was playful and flirtatious. We were getting down to who he really was when we weren’t dealing with such serious circumstances.

Taking away the temptation to close the distance between our mouths, and eager to point out he’d made a mistake in pinning my wrists, I lifted and aimed my hands at him, firing two blasts at his shoulders. The grip he had on me was lost as his full weight landed on me, I quickly locked my legs around his and used my energy to flip us so Bucky landed on his back with me on top of him. I pinned his hands at his sides, two steady blue streams flowing from my fingers. Bucky tried to wrestle out of my hold to no avail, I took great joy in leaning over him and giving a shit-eating smile.

“You’re right,” I shook my head, “It’s not fair.”

Bucky breathily chuckled and stopped fighting, instead letting himself be defenseless underneath my body. At some point, the laughter and grins faded and the reality that I was straddling Bucky became very real. If I released my hold on his hands, I wondered what he would do. Would he scurry to lift me off of him and leave as quick as he could? Or would he dare to put his hands on my waist like he had in Madripoor, pulling me into him as close as he could? Nervously, I absorbed the energy back into my fingers and freed him, his hands laying limp where they were but his blue eyes held no intention of looking away. We rested there, trying to catch our breath and not daring to make a move that would shift either of our bodies or the moment. “Bucky, Y/n, where you at?” I heard Sam’s voice drift down the hall.

Stolen moments, that was all I could get with Bucky. I had only just discovered how I felt about him, I didn’t know how to handle it but I knew that when I did get time with him, it never lasted long enough. I unhappily levitated off of him and landed on my feet nearby, leaving him without a word to open the door and find Sam.

I looked down the hall and spotted my brother walking down the hall in search of us. “Hey,” I called, he turned around and changed his course, “Any leads?” “Sharon’s got access to a satellite, she’s gonna keep an eye on the camp,” he said, “And Zemo agreed to take us out to meet someone who’s got information on the funeral. Where’s Buc-“

Bucky appeared at that moment, his jacket back on and covering his build while carrying mine in his hand. He handed it to me, his eyes darting up to meet mine with some sort of meaning in them, “Did he say where he’s taking us?” “No,” Sam answered, “But at least he’s talking.”

The three of us headed down the hall and out to the living room where Zemo was waiting on us like a parent waiting on their children to get ready to leave. We left and entered the city once again, me trying to keep a little distance between Bucky since my cheeks were still burning. The memory of how he’d felt under me was still all too real and I needed to have a clear head for what was about to go down.

We hadn’t been walking for more than ten minutes when an unfortunately familiar voice sounded off in our vicinity. “Karli Morgenthau is too dangerous for you guys to be pulling this shit.” “Ah, how’d you find us now?” Bucky called across the street, John Walker and Lemar Hoskins hurrying down a set of steps toward us. “Come on, you really think two Avengers can walk around Latvia without drawing attention?” Lemar replied.

“No more keeping us in the dark,” Walker seethed, “You could start by telling us why you broke him out of prison.” I over animatedly shrugged my shoulders and looked between Sam and Bucky, “You told us to stay out of your way so that’s what we did. Can’t have it both ways, Walker.”

“And he broke himself out technically,” Bucky answered Walker’s original question.

“Oh,” Walker was practically spitting with rage, “This better be an unbelievable explana-“

“Hey,” Sam stepped in and placed a hand on his chest, “Take it easy before it gets weird.” Walker promptly stepped back and took a breath.

“I know where Karli is,” Zemo offered, stepping to the side along with Bucky and ready to continue on our path, before being stopped by Walker.

“Well, where?” “All we know is, it’s a memorial,” Sam answered, “So we’re gonna intercept her there.”

Zemo gently moved Walker’s hand off of him, and led the way, Bucky, Lemar and I following. “That means civilians,” Lemar said, “High risk of casualties.” “We won’t let that happen,” I replied, “And if they’re fellow funeral goers, neither will Karli.”

“All right,” Walker said, joining us along with Sam, “We’ll move in fast, take her by surprise.”

“No, I wanna talk to her alone,” Sam protested. As much as I wanted to stop my brother in the street and question the validity of his sanity, we were a united front against Walker and I couldn’t drop it. I’d wait for my turn to voice my concern.

“I’m not losing her again,” Walker pushed back. “Look, the person closest to her died, she’s vulnerable,” Sam argued, “If there was ever a time to reason with her, it’s now.” “What?” No. Wait, no! No! Stop. Hold on,” Walker jogged to get ahead of us, his sidekick following suit, “Stop, okay? I think we’re way past reasoning with her, unless you forgot that she blew up a building with people still in it.” “Sam, you walk in there cold, she could kill you,” Lemar may have had a problem with the plan, just like Walker, but he came at it from a different angle. That I could give him credit for.

“And if I go in hot and the op goes wrong, more people will die,” Sam countered confidently. “You’re gonna let him do this?” Walker addressed Bucky, “Are you gonna let your partner walk into a room with a Super Soldier alone?”

“He’s dealt with worse,” Bucky replied, “And he’s not my partner.”

“I used to counsel soldiers dealing with trauma, okay?” Sam stated, stepping around us to stand in front of Walker, “This is my wheelhouse.” “Yeah, I know. And I know those soldiers, which is why I know this is a bad idea,” Walker shot back. “Wait, John,” Lemar stopped him from going any further, “If he can talk her down, it might be worth a try.”

We stood, anticipating whether or not we’d have to fight harder or if Walker would agree to let Sam handle the situation his way. He scoffed and shifted his weight between feet before turning to Zemo, “We’ll deal with you later.” “I’m sure it will all come to an agreeable conclusion,” Zemo replied and gestured down the path, “My associate is just up ahead.”

We looked ahead to see the same little girl the Baron had been offering candy to earlier in the day. I fell in step alongside Sam and lowered my voice, “Are you sure about this?”

“Did you act like you agreed with me just to piss of Walker?” he asked, equally quiet.

“…Maybe…”

He pulled his hand out of his jacket pocket and we bumped fists, “Trust me, this is our best option.”

The five of us watched Zemo approach the child, handing her something and guiding us to follow where she was leading. She took us to an older factory, bringing us in through the back door of the boiler room. “Karli’s in there,” Zemo said.

Sam broke from our group and headed for the doorway while Walker slammed Zemo up against a furnace. “Hey,” he called to Sam, “You got ten minutes,” he handcuffed Zemo, “Then we’re doing things my way.”

With Sam gone and me not there to protect him in case things took a turn, there wasn’t anything to do but wait. Walker paced, Lemar stood and Bucky stared. I was leaned up against the brick wall that held Zemo, trying not to think of all the ways the plan could go wrong. Karli was young, quick to help but also quick to fight and the sight of Sam may be enough to trigger her into attacking before listening. But Sam wasn’t usually someone to get cocky about something he knew he couldn’t handle and I trusted his judgement. I just wish that I was trusting it in a less dangerous situation.

“Y/l/n.” I turned to Zemo, “Huh?” “In Madripoor, you said your last name was Y/n Y/l/n,” he continued in a hushed tone so nobody else would hear.

“So? What’s so interesting about my name?”

Zemo paused like he had just come to some conclusion I wasn’t going to be made privy to. “It simply sounds familiar.”

“What does that me-“ “Hey!” Walker exclaimed, staring me and the Baron down, “What’re you two talking about?” Zemo turned away from me like we’d never been speaking, the confusing conversation dissolving in the already tense air. “Nothing,” I lied, pushing off the brick wall and brushing past Walker, “That concerns you at least.”

I landed at Bucky’s side, he nodded his head towards Zemo and looked back to me. “What was that about?” “I’m not sure,” I answered, there was something unsettling about how Zemo’s gaze rested on me, “But I don’t think it was nothing.” We waited in another thirty seconds of silence before an antsy Walker spoke up again, “No, no, no, no, no, this is a bad idea.” “It hasn’t been ten minutes John,” Bucky said, “Just sit tight.”

“Don’t do that,” Walker looked over his shoulder at us angrily, “Don’t patronize me.”

“Then don’t start whining because you’re getting fidgety,” I replied, annoyed with his lack of patience, “Sam knows what he’s doing and if you let him do it, this could all go a lot smoother than Munich.”

He walked away, staring at the wall in deep thought before coming towards us. “I’m goin’ in,” he stated, punctuating his words with a punch to the shield.

Bucky stepped forward to block his path, I quickly stuck a hand in between their two bodies and created a force field to further state our point. My apprehension about leaving Sam to handle himself had lessened when he’d assured me he had it under control but I wasn’t sure if there was anything that would get Walker to back off.

“This is all really easy for you, isn’t it?” Walker grumbled, staring Bucky down, “All that serum runnin’ through your veins. And you,” he skimmed his hand over the unpierceable shield I’d made, “With that X gene of yours. Your brother,” he pointed at Bucky, “And your partner need backup in there. Do you really want his blood on your hands?” The images that Sharon had planted in my head were filled in by Walker, it suddenly became all too easy to picture Sam’s lifeless body on the ground. Just like the one I’d left in the ship yard. No, Walker was not in my head, I wouldn’t allow it. The man who had threatened me with the accords, who waved the name of Captain America around like a free ticket to do whatever he wanted. He could manipulate whoever he wanted, except for me. “You’re not getting past us, Walker,” I firmly stated, bringing his widened eyes to me, “Sam’s got this.” There weren’t many people that stood up to Captain America without a second thought, and the irritated expression on his face reflected that. “So that’s how it’s going now? You’re giving the orders?” “If it means giving Sam a better chance of ending this, then yes,” I countered, digging my heels further into the ground.

He looked me over, debating his options, “Fine.” After observing him for a few cautious seconds, I dropped the force field and stepped to the side of Bucky. No sooner than when my hand fell to my side did Walker shove past Bucky and storm up the stairs, the two of us quickly rushing to draw him back. “Walker!” Bucky shouted.

I aimed my hands out to pull him back in, the blue energy barely leaving my fingertips when Lemar came up behind me and pulled my hands down to my sides. I tried to wrestle out of his grip but he didn’t let me go until Walker had safely gotten up the stairs to a point where I couldn’t see him. “Are you serious?!” I cried as Lemar shot ahead of me up the stairs leaving me to follow pathetically. “Captain’s orders,” he replied over his shoulder as we hurried to catch up to the heated, impatient joke of a Captain.

“Karli Morganthau, you’re under arrest,” I heard Walker announce, spotting Bucky taking the stairs two at a time behind him.

As I entered the room, my hopeless eyes met Sam’s surprised set. Karli was just as shocked, the redhead asking Sam if it had been the plan all along to bring us in. Lemar pushed in front of me and Bucky, acting as a barrier to prevent us from interfering any more than we had. Bucky attempted to shove his arm away just as Karli landed a punch to the shield, sending Walker and Sam flying back into a table. I used my energy to shove Lemar back, freeing Bucky and I to jump into the fight. Bucky bolted after Karli who was making a run for it while I helped Sam to his feet. “We said ten minutes!” Sam exclaimed, glaring at Walker’s retreating form.

“I tried,” I said as we made for another staircase to try and catch Karli on the other side of the building. We went through a series of various halls, there was no way to make heads or tails of which way was right. Sam tugged me and led me up another set of stairs with no luck in finding her. “Shit,” I mumbled. On the opposite side of the landing was Bucky, looking just as confused as us. “I lost her,” he said defeatedly. “This place is a maze,” Sam panted.

I took a look at our surroundings, spotting a window and quickly forming an idea. “She could be out of the building by now. Bucky,” I ran to the nearest window, “Help me out.”

Catching on quick, he raised his metal arm and landed a whopping punch, shattering the glass and leaving a gaping hole. I took a few steps back and took a running start, ignoring the sounds of Sam’s protests and diving out the window. I threw my hands out to my sides and expelled energy, ceasing my fall and allowing me to shoot up higher in the air. I landed on the building’s roof, taking a look at the city below me and trying to spot Karli’s mop of red hair. I stayed atop the ledge searching until I heard gunshots from inside the building, dropping and flying back in through the broken window immediately. My blood ran cold with fear, Sam and Bucky weren’t where I had left them. I rushed down the closest hall, hearing a commotion from a room somewhere in the building and praying desperately that they weren’t in the middle of it. I wasn’t sure if I’d ever been so relieved to see the two of them as when I’d spotted them after turning a corner. Upon hearing my boots slapping against the ground, Bucky and Sam turned, both their faces showcasing the same relief. “Thank God,” Sam breathed, waiting for me to catch up with them before tearing off again.

We ran through the building until we found the one hall we hadn’t been down yet, we entered to find quite the scene. Walker was standing over an unconscious Zemo, vials of the super serum smashed on the floor and no sign of Karli.

“What did we miss?” Sam asked, still a little breathless from our chase.

I wasn’t a naturally angry person, but the irateness I felt with John Walker was enough to make my face warm with rage. He had proved that arrogance and impatience were his main modes of operation. He had no problem giving the orders but following someone else’s lead was nearly unbearable for him. His eagerness to jump headfirst into battle may have served him well in aspects of his career, but in this case it had ruined everything.

“You said ten minutes,” I gritted out, staring down Walker from our position on the stairs. His eyes didn’t carry an ounce of remorse for what he had done. Without another word, I turned on my heels and stormed out of the room without waiting for Sam and Bucky. We’d come so far only to lose to a completely preventable situation. I’d never worked with Steve professionally, but I knew that he would have never have sabotaged a mission because of his ego. Just one more reason why John Walker could never truly be Captain America.

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A/N: I find myself having to reel myself in when writing Walker or else I’ll let my hatred of him show through a little too much lol. Let me know what you thought or if you’d like to be tagged :)

Safe Haven taglist: @tanyaherondale @wanniiieeee @asoftie4bucky @edencherries @i-reblog-fics-i-like @ttalisa @gcfty @withyoutilltheendofthismess @rinaispunk @weirdowithnobeardo @felicityofbakerstreet @godlypotterwhodiaries @eternalharry @voguesir @mizz-kraziii @okayline @smellmymisunderstoodfluff @wanderin-stories @nicklet94 @intricate-melody @aesthethickks @stumbleonmywords @simplybarnes @21bruhs @lostinwonderland314 @superbookishhufflepuff @kaelyn-lobrutto24 @zozebo @fandomxreaders @kittengirl998 @sarai-ibn-la-ahad @i-know-i-can @x-judyjude-x @thebi-valkyrieofvalhalla @buckverse

#bucky barnes x fem!reader #bucky barnes x reader #bucky barnes imagine #sam wilson x reader #sam wilson x platonic!reader #marvel imagine

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maxineswritingcenter · 3 years

Text

The Ghost of Winter - Bucky Barnes x fem!reader

The Phantom of the Opera AU! Bucky Barnes x fem!reader, Steve Rogers x fem!reader

Legacy agent, (Y/N), has been trained her entire life by a mystery man. When they learn that HYDRA has infiltrated SHIELD, she must fight to stop them. But could she betray the trust of her friends for her teacher?

Decided to dive into Marvel territory. I also watched Phantom of the Opera finally. Am I in love with toxic mask man? Absolutely I am.

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When Nick Fury first decided to take on the project, he had no idea the assignment would come with so many... Difficulties. It wasn’t going to be easy, he knew that from the start, especially when it came to a child.

Twenty years ago, SHIELD found and infiltrated a HYDRA lab hidden in an abandoned military base. They had found fourteen missing children that were being raised to create super soldiers that would be strong enough to tolerate whatever concoction they had created to try to replicate Dr. Erskine’s serum that had been lost nearly a hundreds years ago.

All but one of the children had been able to go back to their normal lives. One child, (Y/N) Coulson, was left- since orphaned in 2012 in the Loki incident. She had always been around the SHIELD office since Phil didn’t want her to leave his sight. She had trained alongside the finest field agents and had become a master fighter, spy, and agent. Now, as a new HYDRA threat appears, will she be ready? Fury knew she would.

The two agents smiled as they danced in the chorus of the play, twirling and swaying to the beat of the orchestra. (Y/N) twirled on her toes, catching the target out of the corner of her eye. The man, Jasper Sitwell, was a SHIELD agent suspected of working for HYDRA. He was also a patron of the theater they performed in. He was speaking with the director of the play while the rehearsal was performed. (Y/N) passed Nastasha, using her ballet shoe clad foot to point towards the direction their target had gone. A flick of her wrist was all (Y/N) needed from her to know that they needed to get to the next stage of her plan.

Over the small device in her ear she heard Natasha’s voice signaling the other members: “Subject is heading outside. Keep an eye from the sky, Wilson.”

“On it.” The newest member of their squad, Sam Wilson, called out. This meant (Y/N) and Natasha needed to make a swift get away. They plied off stage, walking normally they quickly changed back into their normal attire. As (Y/N) pulled the straps on her boots tight, Natasha spoke casually.

“What about Jordan from tech?” Natasha, who was insistent on finding her a date.

“The one that Stark caught playing Space Invaders when we were trying to stop an intergalactic army?”

Her green eyes narrowed as she thought, “Well, they can’t all be winners.” (Y/N) chuckled and rolled her eyes.

“Between me and Rogers, you starting a matchmaking business?” She asked as they walked down the hall to the outside.

“Oooh. Steve, he’s a good option too.” She smiled, “Kind, loyal, strong, tough, patriotic.”

“Just listing adjectives now, Tasha?” (Y/N) said the nickname fondly, using her elbow to knock out and break the nose of the HYDRA scum that had been following them. The Black Widow had been so fascinated by (Y/N)'s intuition. (Y/N) was able to sense enemies even years of her training had not been able to master.

“God, that is so frustrating. How did you hear that guy?” Natasha asked, loading her pistol.

“You know that saying about magicians and never giving up their secrets?” (Y/N)’s sentence strained between her teeth as she kicked out door of the performance house, revealing a group of HYDRA agents who were in the middle of an intel meeting.

“I got this.” (Y/N) smirked, springing into action and taking out the agents, giving Nat the clearance to get to the computers and hack into their system, downloading all their secrets onto a hard drive. The agents fell under his fists as if all of their training had been for naught. She was strong, quick, brutal in her style. Just as she had been taught.

Eight years old. (Y/N) was just eight years old when she had been taken to be experimented on. After being brought back home, she had asked her father to stay at the SHIELD office, so she felt safe. He had agreed, even sleeping outside her bedroom that had been made out of his own office.

What he didn’t know, however, was that HYDRA had taught her how to be light on her feet. (Y/N) would sneak out in the middle of the night to go to the outside training area. For a while, she would throw knives, only for them to fall to the ground. She tried the sparring dummies, only to be smacked back three times harder by inanimate swinging arms. After doing this for hours, she fell to the ground, broken and alone. (Y/N) just wanted to be able to protect herself. Being poked and prodded by those evil scientists made her feel so weak, she couldn’t even defend herself. But looking at herself... Maybe she would always be weak.

Wrapping her arms around her scraped knees, she hid her face and cried, not caring that the chill of the night air raised goosebumps on her arms, the bitter chill burning her ears and nose.

Then suddenly, the moonlight that had been illuminating her was gone, leaving her in total darkness. When she looked up, her blood ran cold. The man in front of her was tall and sturdy looking. One hand clenched in a fist and the other, made entirely of metal, held a gun. He had black paint smeared across his eyes, but even the darkness couldn’t hide how bright his blue eyes were. Blue eyes that were looking into her soul.

(Y/N)’s breath quickened as tears came to her eyes again. HYDRA must have sent him to kill her, to hide their failed experiments.

“Stoyat', devushka.” He barked in Russian.

“Please...” She whimpered, “I just want to see my daddy.” She thought of her father, who believed he was protecting his daughter at that moment, who believed she was sleeping away, feeling safe that her father was right outside the door so no one would hurt her.

The man only stared down at her, grabbing her with a tight grip and pulling her to her feet. She cried, pushing at his fingers, her trembling hands making it almost impossible to get a grip on his gloves.

“Quiet.” He said gruffly, this time in English. Pressing her lips tightly together, she met the man’s eyes. He huffed at her, bringing her back to the training dummy.

He released her wrist, positioning her in a fighting stance: “Your feet need to be square with your shoulders. Keep your thumbs out of your fists, that’s how you break them.” He stood behind her, pulling back her fist and positioning it as if she had drawn it back herself.

“I want you to imagine those doctors that hurt you, use that rage, let it flow through your whole body.” He coached. She listened, thinking of the evil men and how they laughed at her when she cried out for her father, begging them to stop hurting her and the others. The rage she felt was like a white, searing heat that coursed through her veins.

“Swing.”

All that heat making its way to her fist and transferred to the dummy. The dummy, not having stood a chance, fell back against the concrete.

Seeing the dummy lying there made her smile for the first time since she had come home, she turned to the stranger.

“Not bad, kid. But let’s do better.

When the last man fell, she dramatically blew across her knuckles as if they were smoking.

Natasha rolled her eyes, “Show off.” She grabbed the USB containing the information.

After the day’s events, (Y/N) sat in her room. Cleaning and polishing her guns had been a way for her to pass the time, to keep her thoughts occupied. Unfortunately, it made her think about a day that she was trying so hard to get past.

(Y/N) followed behind Fury, a large blaster in her hands. She wasn’t entirely sure what it did, but it looked powerful. When they got to where Loki’s containment had been breached, her heart sank. Seeing her father slumped against the wall made flashes of her life flash before her eyes. When he took her to the park on Sundays for ice cream, no matter how old she was. Dancing on his shoes at Daddy-Daughter dances. Tears running down his face as she ran into his arms after he had fought off endless HYDRA agents and scientists to get her back. Now here he lay, his suit soaked in his own blood, a line of red coming from his mouth.

Fury was right besides her as they knelt to the ground in front of him, her eyes burning again with that all too familiar feeling.

“Dad.” She said, carefully taking his hand in hers, seeing that he had already lost a lot of blood.

“Hey Jellybean,” He said softly, using the same nickname he had come up with after she had gotten an upset stomach Easter of ‘97, “Just figured out what the blaster does. Pretty cool.” His attempt to calm her down did not hold as much weight as the situation at hand.

“I’m sorry, boss.” Her father said to Fury, “They got rabbited.”

Fury only shook his head, “Just stay awake. Eyes on me.”

Her father swallowed thickly, his breathing becoming more and more labored: “Oh I’m clockin’ out here.” His eyes looked at her, eyes so full of love: “I’m sorry, sweetheart.”

“Not an option.” Fury said.

“Dad, come on, just hold out a little bit longer, the medical team is so close.” She hadn’t noticed it but her hands had started shaking.

“It’s okay.” He whispered, a light chuckle in his voice, “This was never gonna work- if they didn’t have something- to...” His sentence trailed off and Phil Coulson took his last breath.

“Dad.” With her free hand, she shook his shoulder, “Dad, come on.” Her breathing erratic, she shook his shoulder again, “Dad!”

“(Y/N)-” Fury put a hand on her shoulder that she shook off.

“Dad, come on, wake up!” She said through gritted teeth, “Come on, you promised we would go to the park this weekend. Because-because we missed last week because of... of the-the-” The paramedics arrived soon after. Fury took her by the shoulders, pulling her away from her father’s corpse.

“No! NO!” She screeched, feeling very much like that innocent child again, stolen from her bed, “DADDY!”

“(Y/N)?” Natasha called, as if she had called once before. Inhaling deeply, she turned to the doorway. The red head was standing in the frame, her eyebrows furrowed in confusion and concern.

“Hey, what’s going on?” She asked as she got closer, “Are you crying?”

Not realizing the tears that had fallen, she quickly looked away and wiped her eyes, “Sorry... Just... Thinking about....You know.”

“Yeah. I know.” She sat on the bed beside her, “So are you gonna tell me about your coach or do I just keep getting gaslighted?”

Her joke lifted (Y/N)’s spirits a little, “Look, you’re gonna think I’m crazy.”

“If it makes you feel better, I already thought you were crazy.” She smiled, “You get real funky when you get a couple shots in you.” She shimmed her hips.

The laughter that bubbled from her throat was genuine, something she needed: “Alright, alright. Fine.” She sighed, “After I was brought back from the HYDRA base, I was trying to get tough, but I just wasn’t strong enough. Right when I gave up a man appeared, I thought he was there to kill me but he taught me how to fight, how to walk silently, how to be what I am today.”

“What’s his name?” She asked.

“I uh... I don’t know.” She chuckled, “He never told me.”

“Well, why don’t you ask him?”

“I don’t really see him too often.” She leaned back on her arms, “Only once every couple of years and he doesn't stay long. Last time I saw him was 2009. I don’t even know what he really looks like. He’s got a mask that covers his nose and mouth. I just know he’s got these piercing blue eyes.”

“Piercing? Huh.” Nat thought for a moment, “You know who else has piercing blue eyes?”

“Don’t say Steve Rogers.”

“It’s Steve Rogers.”

“Tasha.” (Y/N) groaned dramatically, falling back on cot.

“TaShA.” She said in a mocking voice, “C’mon, I see the way he looks at you.”

“I see the way he looks at me too. We’re just friends.” Was Steve Rogers her childhood idol? Duh. Her father used to joke that she was a bigger Captain America fan than he was - which was definitely not true. Back before he had been taken off ice, when only a handful of people could recall the Captain from their history books, her dad hand made costumes of Captain America for himself and she was Cap’s best friend, Bucky. While dad focused more on the Captain, she had put a little more focus on the Howling Commandos and James Barnes was her favorite.

After kicking Nat out, she decided to make her way to the kitchen in the safe house they were using. When she got there, she saw Steve sitting at one of the tiny tables with a mug in front of him. If there had been anything hot in it, it wasn’t now.

“Hey.” He smiled, glancing up from his intense stare at the mug.

“Hey.” She said, leaning against the fridge after grabbing a bottle of water, “How are you?”

He leaned back, dragging one of his arms over the back of his seat, “If you would have told me a hundred years later that I would still be dealing with HYDRA.” He paused, “Well, I wouldn’t be surprised, just disappointed.”

“Right.” She said, “My dad felt the same way. If he were here, he would be right beside us. Taking them out one evil S-O-B at a time.”

Steve looked up at her, then glanced away, “I never got a chance to sign his cards.”

Gnawing at her cheek, she took a seat at the table, reaching into her jacket pocket, pulling out the stack of vintage trading cards. She had spent years finding a place that would be able to restore them to their former glory, removing the blood and smell of death. Eventually when all the shops that turned her down, she asked a favor of Stark. With the help of Dr. Banner, they had created a solvent that would clean the cards without destroying the sensitive material.

She took out a marker, pulling the cap off, “You got a minute now?”

A smile pulled at his lips, the first one she had seen since this new mission had started, “Yeah. Yeah, I got time.”

When the cards were signed, fulfilling her father’s last wish, they started talking. Nothing in general, just talking. The man that her father had taught her so much about was in front of her and he was just as glorious as she had imagined. And just as handsome.

That night she had decided to go on a run while everyone was asleep. There had been too much to think about lately, especially about things she wanted to forget. It was almost the anniversary of when she had been saved from HYDRA and the flashes of her torture there had been popping up randomly in her mind. The doctors pumping her full of adrenaline so she would stay awake for hours, her fear driving her further and further. The painful serums they would test to increase her muscles and abilities.

Eventually, her legs could push her no further. (Y/N) came to a stop, leaning against a tree for support. Her breathing was heavy, her heart beat loud in her ears. But not loud enough that she didn’t hear the twig snap. Her body became rigid, pulling a knife from its sheath at her hip. Fingers dancing over the handle before gripping tight and swinging behind her. A metal thud caused her to pause, the familiar piercing eyes putting her at ease.

“Oh, it’s you.” She turned towards him, putting her knife back in its place, “It’s been a while.”

“You were slower than usual.” He was always straight to business.

“Yeah, sorry, I got a lot on my mind right now.” She sighed, leaning back against the tree, “My friends are in trouble. My father died in my arms. But I guess that shouldn’t get in the way of my training, right?”

Her teacher stared at her for a while, his expression unreadable. Mostly because it was underneath a mask.

“But uh, I had a question?”

His expression changed to his usual one, neutral: “You know how I feel about questions, solntse.” That word, solntse, it was a word he had called her before. She never knew how to spell it to look it up though.

“I know, I know but... I follow your every order. You say jump, I jump. I just want to know... Your name.”

He looked at her, then narrowed his eyes in anger. Without another word, he started to stomp off.

“Wait!” She called, trying to catch up, “I’m sorry. Forget I asked.” He didn’t respond, just kept walking.

“Please!” She stopped, “When am I going to see you again?” Soon, the man with the metal arm was nothing but a shadow in the dark, not to be seen. Maybe never again.

The next day, the mission had been to get to Jasper Sitwell. Lucky enough, he was right where they wanted him. After leaving a meeting with Senator Stern, Sam Wilson had led Sitwell into a trap. Sam gave (Y/N) and Natasha the coordinates, leading them both out to the roof where Steve had already gotten a hold of Jasper.

“Tell me about Zola’s algorithm.” Steve said down at the man he had just pushed to the ground.

Sitwell recovered, putting his glasses back on and walking backwards: “Never heard of it-”

Steve just continued walking Sitwell to the edge of the roof, “What were you doing on the Lemurian Star?” Talking about the ship their last mission was on, the one she was told to sit out on.

“I was throwing up. I get seasick.” Sitwell excused himself before gasping as the backs of his legs hit the ledge of the building. He spun his arms around as he almost fell, both (Y/N) and Rogers reaching him out and grabbing him by the jacket so he stayed upright.

“Is this little display meant to insinuate that you’re going to throw me off the roof?” He looked between the two agents, “Your father taught you better than to fight an unarmed man.” Her jaw clenched and her grip tightened on his jacket.

“And it’s not your style, Rogers.” Steve hummed and released his grip, putting a gentle hand on her shoulder to release. She complied, unwillingly.

“You’re right.” Steve smoothed out the arms on Sitwell’s suit jacket, “It’s not.”

(Y/N) smiled sweetly, “It’s hers.” Steve and (Y/N) stepped away and Natasha stiff kicked Sitwell over the edge.

After a moment of hearing him scream, Natasha snapped her fingers: “Oh wait, what about that girl from accounting... Laura, Laura...”

“Lillian.” Steve produced the name.

“Lilly Lip Piercing.” (Y/N) said. Her father had taught her how to remember people names with association

“Yeah, she’s cute.” Natasha nudged Steve’s side a little.

‘Yeah,” Steve shoved his hands in his pockets, glancing at (Y/N) quickly, “I’m not ready for that.” He looked away when Sitwell’s screams were heard coming back up with Sam Wilson in his falcon wings. While his glance was quick, it wasn’t quick enough for her keen eyes.

While Sam and Steve escorted Sitwell towards the door, she kept Natasha back.

“Hey, uh, what does solntse mean?”

“It means the sun or little sun. It’s a term of endearment in Russian. Its like Sunshine.” She narrowed her eyes, “Why, who called you that?”

“No one.” She lied, “I just saw it somewhere and was curious.”

“HYDRA doesn't like leaks.” Sitwell said from the backseat of the car Sam drove. (Y/N) rode in front of them on a motorcycle to alert if any HYDRA personnel came for Sitwell. Her earpiece made it so she could hear the conversation in the car.

“So why don't you try sticking a cork in it.” Sam snapped back.

“Insight's launching in sixteen hours, we're cutting it a little bit close here.” Tasha pointed out.

“I know. We'll use him to bypass the DNA scans and access the Helicarriers directly.” Steve said.

“What?!” Sitwell protested, “Are you crazy? That is a terrible, terrible idea-” He words were cut off by a scream. (Y/N) looked in the small mirror attached to the windshield and saw a man on top of the car, reaching in and grabbing Sitwell before throwing him into the other lane of oncoming traffic. He then got on top of the car, pointing a pistol downwards, shooting off a few rounds. Suddenly, the car came to a halt, throwing the assailant from the top. Though, the skilled assassin landed on his feet, staring the car down.

(Y/N) made the bike come to a screeching halt, getting off the bike and aiming a pistol at the man. But, for the first time, she hesitated. She knew his frame even from the back.

"You...." Her words were a whisper, but the man -her teacher- seemed to hear her, his head turning back towards her slightly. He had glanced at her out of the corner of his goggles, a spark of recognition.

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You can read part 2 here!

New series! I'm so happy with this version since I had to rewrite it.

Likes, comments, and reblogs are appreciated!

Message me or comment below to be added to the general or series tag!

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#bucky barnes x reader #steve rogers x reader #winter soldier x reader #marvel fanfic #bucky x reader

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morganbritton132 · 1 year

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The other teachers asking Steve if he has a hall pass is hilarious but what if, in trying to explain to Eddie why the bit is getting annoying, Eddie misunderstands what they mean by hall pass and actually gets jealous? I feel like Eddie wouldn’t really tend to be jealous, “but why do your teacher friends know who’s on your list and I don’t Steven!”

Steve is like six minutes into this rant about how he knows Eddie is having fun and understands that it’s his nature to rebel against ‘the establishment’ telling him what to do or whatever, but it’s getting a little annoying, “All my friends keep stopping me in the hall and asking me for my hall pass, and-“

Eddie, who recently watched the 2011 classic romcom Hall Pass during a bout of insomnia: You have a hall pass?

Steve, who has not recently wanted the 2011 classic romcom Hall Pass: Yeah??? Everyone does.

Eddie: Do your friends know whose your hall passes are?

Steve: I mean, yeah. They’ve seen them.

Eddie: …Am I one of your hall passes?

Steve: No. Why would you be my hall pass? That’s weird.

Eddie: Is it weird, Steven? I think it’s weird that all your teacher friends have seen your hall passes but you’ve never even told me about them.

Steve: Why would I tell you?!

Eddie: Because I’m asking. Who’s your hall pass?

Steve, whose hall passes have quotes on them: …Mr. Rogers?

#Eddie ends up reenacting this entire conversation for his TikTok channel #After they clear up the miscommunication but before Eddie makes his own Eddie Munson Hall Pass for Steve's classroom #eddie munson tiktok saga #eddie munson #steve harrington

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lilacmeadows · 4 years

Text

Made For You pt. 2

Omg you guys thank you so much for all the support! Part 1 was my first fic and you guys were so sweet. I had to get started on part 2 right away. If you want to be on my taglist, just let me know! This is just leading up to the next few chapters that’s just gonna be FILTHY. I needed a bit of backstory to be satisfied, but now that the boring part is out of the way, I’m gonna go research other names for genitals. Hope you enjoy! -Savvy

BUCKY X READER

Summary: Hydra had just finished training you to be the Winter Soldier’s perfect mate when the Avengers saved him. But what’s going to happen to you now that Hydra has deleted your old life and left you with nothing but a soldier that needs to learn to love himself before he can love someone else.

Part 1 Part 2 Part 3

WARNINGS: explicit sexual content, explicit language, underage reader (nothing sexual happens underage), stockholm syndrome, mentions of family death, eventual dom/sub dynamics, mentions of captivity and kidnapping. violence- guns, mutual pining, eventual smut, fluff, angst if you squint (must be 18+)

WORD COUNT: 2.9k

“Make the Soldat happy. He is my mission.”

When she was first taken, of course she was scared. She didn’t know why, where she was going, if she’d be rescued. It was a painful adjustment, and some days it was as if the tears would never stop. It’s not like she was worth anything to anyone who mattered, her family wasn’t rich. Just her mom and brother. They lived a happy and normal life.

She’d guess it didn’t really matter. At the age of 10, y/n was old enough to understand basic concepts, carry a conversation with adults, and she had strict teachers in school, so she knew how to behave.

What she didn’t know was how to be a wife. Or a ‘life-partner’. None of the Men would ever call her a future ‘wife’. She was training to be a mate. Someone the Soldat could own and connect with so he didn’t fly off the rails if things got out of control. If he got out of their control. Every morning, a watcher would wake her up at 8AM so she could stretch, eat, and meditate. By 10AM, her first trainer of the day would come in and teach her the schooling she was missing. Just basic math and reading, a little German, and a little Russian. Not enough for her to eavesdrop on their plans, but enough to understand her Soldat if he didn’t feel like speaking English.

At 1PM, another trainer would come and bring her to the small kitchenette down the hall. They had no intention of domesticating the ‘couple’, but she was learning to be a woman- of course the Men would have her start in the kitchen. She would learn very simple meals that could feed a fully grown man, and usually had something light for lunch herself. The men brought her the other 2 meals a day. At 3PM she would have lessons on ‘Womanhood’. At least that’s what she called it. A trainer would come in and teach her a never-ending list of rules that she had to follow in order to be a ‘lady’. It reminded her of an old Barbie movie she would watch when she was little. There was a song called ‘To Be a Princess’, where a poor girl learned how to act proper. Once she started seeing herself as that princess, the days got a little easier. Some days, they would go over how to sit and lie down like a lady. Others, they would walk laps around the halls open to her, reviewing how to walk on the balls of her feet. She learned to talk in short sentences with excellent manners, and how to brush her hair, so she could look more presentable for her Soldat.

Over the years of compliance, the trainers softened on her just as the watchers had. Of course, they were still horrible people, but they knew she was a kind girl at heart and wouldn’t cause trouble. Some days, she would be made to sit perfectly still with a stack of books on her head, while her trainer would tell her something silly happening outside the walls of the building that became her home. She learned little bits of information about their lives, music, art. But never anything political or having to do with who the Men even worked for. That was strictly forbidden. They would let her color in her free time. Sometimes a watcher would bring a book from his home for her to read, and when she was old enough, she was given a few colors of yarn and started knitting sweaters and scarves on plastic needles. She didn’t have a clock, but she would learn by the rotating shifts of her watchers what time of day it was.

There were children whose lives sucked more than hers. And for that, she was grateful.

When she got older (let’s say 18), the training started to change. She never knew what day it was, or even what year. She had stopped keeping track so long ago, but the changes were made gradually. She would be made to read books on intimacy, and then watch videos of men brutally ravishing ladies about her size. She had to learn what to do to please her Soldat, without being taught physically. This made her happy. The thought of any of the watchers or trainers doing that to her made her sick. And everyone thought it was in her best interest to be completely innocent to the touch of a man when she has her first encounter with the Soldat.

Which turned out exactly as planned. But on the day Steve and Sam plucked her out of her bedroom, she was not expecting the Soldat to be sitting right in front of her. In all his glory.

The quinjet was eerily silent for all of seven seconds before Clint had the audacity to continue the conversation he started.

“You make the soldier happy?” was the best the shocked man could come up with.

“I haven’t met him yet, but I’m ready. They made me ready for him.” y/n said with bright, hopeful eyes. Her words flowed so easily, they sounded rehearsed.

“Do we tell her?” Tony asked Steve, who was getting greener by the second. He couldn’t believe he just got his best friend back, not two weeks ago, and now he has to worry about a girl who’s obsessed with said best friend.

“I don’t think we really have a choice.” Steve replied, taking a deep breath. The whole quinjet looked like they were holding their breath. y/n still didn’t know the names of the three men on the opposite side of the quinjet. Two of them standing together, pausing their conversation, and the brooding man, who everyone keeps looking at.

“y/n, meet Bucky.” Steve said, pointing at the man across from her. But ‘Bucky’ went completely over her head- the name being unfamiliar to her.

“Hello, sir. Pleased to meet you.” She said, offering a genuine smile, but clearly not picking up what Steve was putting down. Clint chimed in again, wanting to be out of his confused misery.

“Wait a second. Y/n. You mean the soldier, as in the Winter Soldier?” Y/n immediately nodded at hearing that name. She knew her Soldat went by that name. “As in that guy right there?”

Her eyes went wide at the realization. He was sitting right in front of her. Staring at her since the minute she stepped onto the plane. And he was gorgeous. Long hair, thick thighs, piercing blue eyes, and a jaw that could probably cut glass. But he looked upset. Pissed really, and that scared her. She had one job: Make the Soldat happy. And there she was, barely presentable. She hadn’t even addressed him properly, how she was taught. With all the eyes on her, she felt a blush rush through her whole body at the embarrassing thought. But she had to. He wouldn’t like her if she didn’t follow the rules she grew up with.

Y/n daintily stood up and walked until she was right in front of Bucky. He held her eye contact the entire way, still not having said one word during this whole exchange. She gently knelt down until she was on her knees in front of him.

“I hope I can make you happy, my Soldat. I am a gift from the Men who take care of us, and I am entirely yours.” Bucky’s jaw twitched. He hadn’t said anything this whole time, but his mind was moving at lightning speed. He watched this gorgeous, barely dressed girl sit across from him, and was already in awe. But then that girl got on her knees and declared her loyalty to him? In front of everyone he knows? He couldn’t lie to himself, he’d never been more turned on. But everything about this was wrong. She was just a Stockholm Syndrome’d girl who wanted to follow orders. But her orders were to make him happy. He finally broke eye contact with her to see Tony’s shocked face looking over at Bruce and Thor, to make sure he’s not hallucinating this.

“Y/n, you should stand up.” He said to her in a hushed tone. Probably harsher than he meant to. He could see her visibly take a breath at the sound of his voice, his eyes followed the gentle slope of her neck down to her breast. She dreamed for years about what his voice would sound like, and it just rolled over her. But she quickly obeyed and stood in front of his seat. He expected her to say something else, but she was silent then. Her previous outburst was one of the few exceptions to her ‘only talk when spoken to’ rule. “What do you want? Where is your family so we can take you home?” He asked her. She could feel the tears well up in her eyes. He didn’t want her was all she could assume. She was made for him, so why was he turning her away?

“I want to make you happy, sir. It’s all I want. Please let me be good for you. I promise, I’ll be so good for you.” Begging was familiar to her from her studies. She didn’t expect to be begging for her to be able to please him, but she would do whatever it took to get him to keep her.

“No. Y/n. This isn’t right. You were being kept there, whatever Hydra told you to do is over. You’re free now.” The tears flowed freely down her cheeks and it broke his heart. She tried to cover her face with her hands. He didn’t want to see her cry, nor did he want to turn her away, but he also couldn’t just let her be his sex slave. It wasn’t right.

“Please don’t be sad. This is for the best-” He tried to reason with her, but when he took her hand off her face so she would look at him, the contact only made her sob harder. This was all she wanted.

“Buck, I think we should just let her sit for a minute. Can you grab her some water? Tony and I will try to figure out where she was from.” Steve said to Bucky- trying to end this painful and awkward situation. Bucky stood and walked to another area of the quinjet. He was grateful to be able to use this time to think.

“Y/n, we’re gonna need your help to get you home okay. What’s your last name? How old are you?”

“Y/L/N” And then she went quiet. It never occurred to her that she didn’t know how old she was. Of course, she remembered her birthday, but she couldn’t tell the weeks and months apart, so she hadn’t celebrated it since she turned 10 in 2006. “What year is it?”

“When did they take you?” Steve asked gently. Being a man from another time, he could remember well the day he woke up in 2011 when it was supposed to be 1944. He knew how jarring it was to discover all the time that’s been lost, and wanted to spare her that grief.

“2006. I was 10.” She looked at him, and she could tell it’s not just 2008 by the look on his face. She knew her body went through changes over her time with the Men, but between the ‘dietary supplements’ they gave her, and the fact that she wasn’t looking in a mirror- much less shopping for clothes- she didn’t realize she had fully completed puberty.

“Y/n, it’s 2016. You’re 20 now.” And that made the tears come harder. But she wasn’t so upset about the 10 years of her life. She was mad at 20 years of her life wasted. Since Bucky didn’t want her, all of the training was for nothing. She knew living for him made her the definition of a broken person- she wasn’t dumb. The idea of her Soldat was what grounded her all that time. When she was lonely, she’d think about the man the Men always tell her about. They told her how he was their ‘greatest asset’. And she often fantasized about if he would fall in love with her. So by the time she met him, she had already been in love with him for much longer than she’d care to admit- which makes the heartbreak of rejection hurt that much more.

Unfortunately for Bucky, his heart was heavy too. He tucked away into the tiny bed area on the jet after quickly handing Steve the water to give to y/n. It was too much. Being in that room with her, she looked at him like he hung the moon. But he most certainly had not. He was a murderer. Tony’s father was a scientist during the war, and Bucky knew him pretty well through Steve. And he killed him. He had scattered memories of hurting dozens of people, so why would she be so willing to be with someone like him?

Part of him wanted it. After almost a century of not owning anything and not having a choice, he was given the opportunity to have something that belonged only to him. A gift from the men who take care of us. If it wasn’t cruel, he would have laughed in her face. Maybe she was taken care of, but he most certainly wasn’t. She was brought in young enough to still be under the impression that Hydra wasn’t evil, just strict. He imagined for a minute how things could have turned out for the two of them if he hadn’t gotten free. If Hydra really was planning on giving him a gift. He didn’t like the last gift they gave him in the shape of an arm, but y/n was perfect. She was the perfect size for him- although his broad frame could dwarf most women. And her smile pulled at his heart.

He wanted to kiss her the minute he saw her. He knew he wanted to make her his.

And that was bad.

He rubbed his hand over his face and decided to rejoin the group in the middle of their conversation. Thor and Bruce decided to stop being passive members of the conversation and introduced themselves. Y/n was very confused at Thor’s proclamation as ‘God of Thunder’, but with all that was happening, she didn’t feel it was her place to question it.

“- a good thing we have spare rooms at the compound. You can stay as long as you like.” Tony finished speaking to y/n just as Bucky was walking into the room. “We’re gonna have a new house guest MC.” He waggled his eyebrows at the man who caught the back half of that conversation.

Bucky’s jaw dropped. This would only make the situation much harder than it needed to be. He looked to Steve for an explanation. The blond stood up and made his way over to Bucky.

“Look, Hydra scrubbed her records off of every database and-” He took a deep sigh, “Her family is dead, Buck. They probably killed them after they took her.”

Then it was Bucky’s turn to sigh. He knew the right thing to do was to help her, but he also knew how much he wanted to feel her soft skin in his hands. And that made her dangerous to be around.

What nobody knew was why Hydra took the 10 year old from Georgia. In 2006, the Winter Soldier was sent on a mission to kill a scientist that lived there. Of course the poor guy didn’t have a chance when the Soldier was sitting in his house, waiting for him when he got home, but what the Soldier wasn’t expecting was a little girl to be coming inside with him. The scientist looked sleazy and didn’t have any children, so who knows what would have happened to her if the Soldier didn’t get there in time. She screamed and cried. The comm in his ear commanded him to kill the girl for being a witness. But the part of the Soldier that was still Bucky wanted her to be safe. He shushed the little girl and asked her for her address. When she recited it to him, he rubbed her head and told her she was a good girl, before he dug his metal fingers into the child’s pressure points and she fell limp into his arms. y/n woke up in her bed, crying at the bad dream she must have had- her mother not even home yet. That was the first act of defiance Hydra ever experienced from the Winter Soldier. First sign of humanity and compassion. They knew if the mind control was getting weaker, he would be harder to control next time they unfroze him, but his protective nature of the girl would make her an asset to them.

Her capture was arranged before his heart was fully frozen in the chamber. Neither Bucky nor y/n remembered this- Bucky only remembering parts of his time under their control, and y/n never thinking about that bad dream again, but the connection was still there as strong as it was that day 10 years ago.

Part 3

#bucky #bucky barnes smut #bucky barnes #bucky x reader #bucky x y/n #stucky #james buchanan bucky barnes #the avengers #steve rodgers smut #bucky imagine #bucky fanfic #dark!bucky barnes #dark!lee bodecker #lee bodecker smut #bucky fluff #chubby!bucky #winter soldier smut #winter solider x reader

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casualwriters · 3 years

Text

Cupid Love Arrow | Steve Harrington. |

Summary - You never thought in ten million years that you are going on a date with fucking Steve Harrington, you were never the type who like the little Miss perfect of Hawkins, but one night out of no we're Steve asked you out and maybe you enjoyed it.

Type - Fluff

MASTERLIST

Paring - S1 Steve Harington X Nonbinary Reader. ( for male or female readers.)

unnecessary Tags - @peakyrogers @princess-kaija @iwannadeletemyself @suchababie @comebackjessica @motherofdicks

A/N - Hope yall enjoy I was in the mood for some cute fluff (:

Walking up to your Locker the fresh start of your new day in

Hawkins, You and your family moved here only a couple months ago, your mom wanted a fresh start away from the City and away from your old life so now you are here, stuck in this small country Highschool. Shutting the locker after you shoved all the books in your locker you closed it turning around to walk around the hall because there was still some free time before the Bell ring. "New kid watch out!" You heard the screaming and when that happens you turned your head to see what all the commotion was going on and before you could even move the football hit your face gulping for a second, not noticing how embarrassed you have gotten you cover your face "What the fuck?" you question turning around to see a couple boys you wiped the blood that was dripping down your noise the football still in hand, one of the guys was cute but they all looked stupid. "Here you damn ball back" You threw it at the main guy with mid force hitting him in the chest making the other boys chuckled and laugh nudging the Alpha male. "Idiots" You whisper under your breath hearing the Main male walk over to you "What your name?" The male asked he was handsome, but his hair was bigger than most of mine and god his cologne. "What do you want?" You moan hearing the bell knowing that be a good way to ignore him but he was still following you like a stalker. "Steve, um Steve Harrington" Turning around now in front of your class "y/n, now I am going take my noise that is still in pain and leave bye Steve" You scoffed entering your class.

The day had gone fast sitting on the side cigarette hanging on the left side of your lip, you were annoyed and had a shitty day getting hit by a football and all the teacher were just dicks, now putting the cherry on all of it missing your bus your mom would not be off work for another hour, she would not be happy. The door open next to you hearing A male and two females talking Oh speak of the Devil. Stomping out the Cigarette standing up to not be stuck with Prisses and Captian jock Pass for sure. Now I just got to figure out if I want to walk the five miles or call mom and wait. "Later You Two, Hey Y/n Wait up!" He yelled across the parking lot. "What Do you want? The bothersome was clearly shown on your face and You think Steve could tell but it was almost an hour after the buses left so Steve wonder why you were here all alone. "Why you all here alone?" He was actually not trying to be Cocky or an ass which was a shock for both of you. "Miss the Bus," You say swinging your bag over your shoulder Steve followed you as you were walking to head home, he was hot on your tracks and stop in front of you. "Steve do you have anything better than harass me?" You questioned ur folding your arms so you do not end up strangling the poor kid. "Why don't I give you a drive home and in return why don't you let me take you on a date" Taken off guard wasn't the only thing you felt the red crept up on your cheeks now your ending up looking at the top of your combat boots. Looking back up " A month of you being my Taxi driver and then I will go on a date with you" You said bluntly hoping he says yes because you do not want to ride that discussing bus again. Steve was a bit taken back about blunt you were but he thought it was kinda cute He smiled "I pick you up tonight It a deal! let's go" he says making you rolled your eyes "I am fucking coming," You yelled at him.

The snap of the seat belt and looking around in the car was a sweet ride but you did not want Steve's head to get too big. Sitting in there in quiet with glances from Steve part could not stop you from smiling but hid it well the day was long watching Steve pass the trees and watching the Fall leaves get crumpled under the wheels you heard Steve say "When did you come to Hawkins?" Steve asked Sitting up from laying your head down "Couple months ago from the City, mom wanted a new start so dragged me halfway across the state to Hawkins" Steve nodded "it gets a bit lonely here when you do not have any friends." He chuckled " It seemed like you are Mister Popular" Steve turned on your road but he looked at you shaking his head and he said nothing, you decided not to push him so you stayed quiet and just talk about yourself. "Don't need to answer" you smiled at him seeing that he had stopped at your house, You Grinned "see you Later Steve?" you say hanging in the window and walked inside to get ready for the date that was weird to say, maybe you don't hate him that much even if Cupid screw up a bit.

"I will be home at Ten sharped okay" You smiled at your younger siblings brush their hair out of their face and kissing them goodbye walking over to your mom with a worried glance, she has been working night shifts since we moved here and she been passing out every time her body hits the couch. "Love you, Mom." Walking out the door shutting it softly to not wake her up waving to Steve in the car but he was already out there with a bouquet of flowers, they were lovely the shock was on your face smiling "Such a romantic" You say plucking the bouquet out of his hand they were red Roses how cute. "I Adore Roses now hop in were losing the night" He teased.

"Steve, why do I have to keep my eyes closed?" You asked Steve had told you to keep your eyes closed since you got in the car and you were curious why " Oh do not ruin the surprise And no it not a party" He says with a small smile you knew Steve seemed to be Mr. Hot guy, at school and fooled all the woman but this was another side of him that you saw even if you guys just met, it not that hard to pick up on things. "You going to be the death of me" Steve poked your side making you squeaked. "Jerk," you mumbled playfully at him.

Hearing the car stop "Okay just hold on okay?" You were quite confused and wondering if this was gonna be how you die, like in one of those horror movies, you really hoped it wasn't "Is this when I die Steve?" You heard the door open Steve chuckled "If your lucky you won't die." Steve help you out of the car feeling his arms wrapped your race goosebumps came across your arms and He smiled "Open them" You were taken back you could see all of Hawkins from you, "Steve it stunning" you say You Lean on the car saying "My worries seem to be gone when I am up here and of course with you" you teased. "Is your mother okay" Steve could tell it was not just the nerves of the date that was bothering them and the drapes were open. "She been working a lot, Me and my siblings have to take the bus to school I am sorry you did not hear to listen to this.'' A shy whisper came from your lips Jumping to sit on the front of the car Steve shakes his head sitting on the car with you, Looking at you seeing that you were wrapping your arms around your shoulder, "Come here you idiot" He teased taking the demi jacket off and t slipping it over your shoulders. "Tell me what up?" He asked knowing that since you got in the car ride you have been deep in your head he just wanted to make sure you were okay. Taking a large sigh "My mother lost our farther only three years, ago but he always treated her like complete shit" You grew angry just thinking by it your fists curled Steve seeing that has he moved closer putting his hand over your red knuckles. "He drinks too much, I always had to take care of my siblings, my mom was working two jobs and my dad was out at multiple bars." Huffing thinking this was the normal laying On the car. Steve just stared at you in Awe you looking at the stars he was content this way and that was okay. "Steve come lay down" you Snicker at the young man tugging at his hand like nothing you just said bother you. " My Folks are never there I know it was nothing like what happens to you but staying in that big house all alone fucking sucks". Nodding keeping your eyes on the stars pointing to one and another. "It, not a completion every story has a their tragic story" Steve saw you leaning your head on his shoulder seeing you relax in his arms. Wrapping his arm around you nodding and enjoying the silence. "Maybe we should do this again," Steve says looking toward you.

Smiling at Steve " Maybe we should Uh".

#steve harrington #stranger things #small account #billy hargrove #nonbinary s/o #alyssastories #images #max caulfield #y/n #stranger things 3 #y/n x reader #fanfic

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marvelslut16 · 4 years

Text

Even teachers can be stupid

Prompt number: 6 “that was impressive”

Fandom: Marvel

Paring: Chubby!Bucky x reader (teacher au)

Rating: T

Word count: 2.5k (this is a lot longer than I originally planned. Whoops.)

Warnings: Insecure Bucky/ self deprecation based on chub. Brock Rumlow being the grade a asshole that he is. Swearing.

A/N: I apparently only write for Bucky now, lmao. I think I liked this one more in my head.

Teaching high schoolers isn’t easy; trying to teach thirty plus rowdy students six times a day for forty-five minutes each is quite possibly the hardest thing you’ve ever done in your life. As they say, the rewarding things are rarely easy. Each year you get one or two students that are truly affected by your teachings, inspiring them for life. And that makes all the late night grading and putting up with bad behavior worth it.

What helps you get through each painstakingly long day is the lunch break you share with your best friends, and fellow history teachers; Steve Rogers and James ‘Bucky’ Barnes. Steve teaches U.S. history, Bucky teaches world history, and you teach civics. Some days you talk about your students, others you talk about some tv show one of you watched the night before, and sometimes you each ask advice on questions for the tests you're writing.

“Peter Parker was attempting to flirt with MJ in the middle of my class today,” Bucky shares, making the three of you laugh. Peter Parker and MJ are both extremely smart, taking all three of your guys’ classes. Peter’s adorable, but you’ve seen how bad his flirting can be when he was into another student Liz a few years back.

“Are we surprised he was flirting?” Steve cackles at his own joke before he can even finish it. “Tony is his mentor after all.”

You and Bucky join Steve in his laughter, you glance at the brunette admiring the way his smile lights up his whole face and the cute jiggle the little bit of gut he has does. You can feel Steve’s knowing smirk as he notices your lovestruck gaze, he’s been teasing you relentlessly for the past two years about the feelings you so obviously have for his childhood best friend.

“What are you doing this weekend, (Y/N/N)?” Bucky asks, but before you can respond someone cuts in.

“She’s gonna be with me this weekend, tubby,” Brock smirks cockily, stepping behind you and resting his hand on your shoulder.

“In your dreams Rumlow,” you grit out, removing his hand from your shoulder and scooting closer to Bucky.

Brock Rumlow; gym teacher, the office flirt per say, he grew up with Steve and Bucky in Brooklyn and bullied the blonde the entire time they’ve known each other, and overall grade A asshole. He also clearly doesn’t understand the word no, you’ve rejected him at least twenty times in the two years he’s worked here with you and yet he never leaves you alone.

“You’re already in them gorgeous,” he winks at you, Bucky’s hands curl into fists under the table. He’s fighting the urge to finally let go and punch Brock in the face, like he did countless times growing up when he’d pick on Steve.

“You’re revolting,” you glare at him, turning to face Bucky you smile warmly at him. “I’m probably just going to grade some papers, drink some wine and eat some ice cream. Why, what’s up?”

“I well,” he eyes Brock, who’s hovering just behind you. “I was wondering if you wanted to go out?”

“Like a date?” your eyes light up with hope, reaching forward you grasp his forearm.

“Yeah,” he smiles bashfully at the floor, before meeting your eyes again. “I was thinking Wanda’s on Saturday, I’ll meet you there at seven?”

“Perfect,” you beam at him, squeezing his arm lightly. “It’s a date.”

Bucky excuses himself not long after the interaction, needing to go make some copies before the next period. He gives your hand a quick squeeze with the parting words, “I’ll see you later, doll.” You grin like an idiot watching him leave the breakroom, Steve watching the both of you with a large grin.

“Well, that was impressive,” Brock takes Bucky’s recently abandoned seat, grabbing the legs of your chair and pulling you into his side. “I even believed you for a second, having the poor fat ass think you actually want to go out with him. You’re totally gonna stand him up, aren’t you?”

“What are you talking about?” you stand from your seat, Brock’s hold on the chair keeping you from moving it away.

You create a fist with your hand, hiding it behind your back so Brock doesn’t see how much he riled you up. You absolutely hate how he speaks about Bucky, focusing his attention on the few pounds Bucky’s gained over the years you’ve known him. Admittedly Bucky did have abs when you met him, having done boxing almost his entire life, but work started to swamp him and he couldn’t make it to the gym like he used to putting a few pounds on. But you like the little bit of chub more than the abs, there’s something undeniably hot with his body, especially when he’s confident in it.

“You think Sam would give him some exercises to do or something,” Sam Wilson, another gym teacher and fellow friend.

The legs to Steve’s chair screech as he stands and gets ready to lunge across the circular table. You put your hand on Steve’s chest to keep him from doing something he’ll regret, or at least keep him from doing something that’ll get him arrested. You glance at the door to the breakroom thinking you hear footsteps in the hallway, but no ones there when you look.

“Shut the fuck up Rumlow,” both men’s eyes widen at you, you’re normally calm and collected when he pisses you off. The few teachers in the room with you watch on quietly, some in awe that you’re finally going to tell the asshole off, and the rest just happy that someone will finally knock Brock down a few pegs. “I can handle your constant flirting when I’ve asked you multiple times to leave me alone. But I won’t sit here and let you be an ass to James. He’s the sweetest, most considerate man I’ve ever met, and I won’t allow you to say what you want about him unchecked. He makes you feel small-”

“Yeah, cause his gut is so fucking huge,” he laughs, looking around the room to find a colleague to agree with him but no one does.

“Shut. Up. Rumlow.” with each word you take a menacing step towards him. “You’re an ass to him because you know he’s better than you in every way. He’s kind, smart, sweet, thoughtful, and handsome. Everything you aren’t. So fuck off and leave his name out of your mouth. Or next time I won’t hold Stevie back, in fact I’ll join him in beating your ass.”

You’re about to leave when you notice Bucky left his travel mug on the table, grabbing it you head to the social studies office. Upon arriving you see that the copies Bucky needed to get are sitting on his desk, which is beside yours, but there’s no Bucky in sight. You let out a small sigh, you wanted to see him one last time before class starts.

At the end of the day Bucky isn’t waiting in the office for you and Steve like normal, instead his bag and jacket are missing from his desk. Maybe he’s nervous about the date, you think to yourself. There’s no other reason he wouldn’t be waiting for you. You try texting him a few times the rest of the night, only to be met with radio silence. You text Steve and ask him if he's heard from Bucky, and apparently he’s only receiving one word answers.

The next day you start getting ready for your date at three in the afternoon, it’s way too early but you want to look perfect for him. You spend an hour and a half trying to figure out your hair, an hour on your makeup, and two hours trying on every single thing in your closet. You finally settle on a lace royal blue dress, it has a v-neck and cap sleeves. It’s Bucky’s favorite color.

You leave your house at six thirty, arriving at Wanda’s a little early. But you don’t care if you seem eager, because you are. You finally get to go out with James! Bucky’s never late, so when seven comes and goes and he’s not there you’re shocked. You sit at your table like a fool until eight-thirty, the hostess and your waiter giving you looks of pity. James stood you up.

You spend the rest of the weekend sulking and eating lots of ice cream. You fall further behind on your grading but you don’t care, Bucky hasn’t reached out to you. You refuse to text or call first, expecting him to call and apologize profusely and say there was some mix up. But he doesn’t and he won’t.

You arrive at work on Monday right before first period starts, you know it’s unprofessional but you don’t know if you can face Bucky yet. When third period rolls around, which you have off, you head to Steve’s room to talk to him. His students are taking a test that period, so you know he can step away. You lightly knock on the door, opening it so you’re half in the room and half in the hall.

“Sorry for interrupting you guys, you smile at his students who looked up from their test to see who was at the door. “I need to borrow Mr. Rogers for a minute.”

“Get back to work,” he tells his students, though his gaze remains on you. “And eyes on your own paper Flash.” You step back into the hall, Steve soon joining you and shutting the door so no nosey student can over hear.

“Have you talked to Bucky?” you ask him nervously.

“That’s why you pulled me out of class?” Steve lets out an exasperated sigh and leans on a set of lockers. “To talk about your date?”

“He stood me up Steve,” tears start to make their way to the surface, you thought you had cried all of your tears this weekend, but apparently not.

“What?” Steve’s in shock, he can’t believe that Bucky would do that. “There has to have been some mistake.”

“I looked like an idiot!” you whisper shout, mindful that Bucky’s classroom is next to Steve’s. “I was sitting there waiting for an hour and a half before the pity from the employees became too much to handle and I went home. He never called me, never texted. Stevie, I don't know what I did.”

The talking in Bucky’s classroom stops, footsteps growing near the door. Bucky opens it a crack, but you can’t bear seeing him so you stare at your feet and the gross linoleum under them. He tells his students to read ahead without him, stepping out and shutting his door behind him.

“I thought I heard voices out here, did you two need something?” Steve’s brows furrow at how cold Bucky’s being, he usually loves when you interrupt him and his class.

“No,” Steve says slowly, glancing between the two of you.

“Anyway, thanks for the help Steve,” you force a fake smile. “I should get back to the office and grade some papers I didn’t get to this weekend.”

“(Y/N/N)!” the blonde calls quietly after you, turning to Bucky with a small frown. “What the hell were you thinking standing her up?”

“I didn’t stand her up, she stood me up,” Bucky glares down at the tiles.

“What are you talking about?” Steve can’t make sense of the nonsense coming out of his best friend's mouth. “She waited over an hour for you to show, Buck. And you never did.”

“Why would she want to date me?” he gestures to himself, eyes lingering on his own gut. “I heard Rumlow say it was fake and she was going to stand me up.”

“And you believed that?” Steve lets out a humorless laugh. “She threatened to beat his ass for talking shit about you Buck. you need to fix this, she’s crushed.”

Steve walks back into his classroom, leaving Bucky alone in the hall with his racing thoughts. He has to make it up to you! How could he hurt you? How could he believe anything Rumlow said? This goes to show that even teachers can be stupid. You’re his best girl and he hurt you, how’s he supposed to make it up to you?

You and Steve sit quietly in the breakroom at lunch, he’s eating and you’re trying to make some headway in your grading. Bucky hasn’t come to lunch yet, you’d love to say you haven’t noticed, but you're painfully aware of the empty seat to your right, the one Bucky always occupies. You write a big fat C in red ink on the essay you just read, it should be a C- but Ned is a smart kid and you don’t want to drop his GPA even more because of one poorly written paper.

A body slumps in the chair beside you, you ignore it assuming it’s Brock. You don’t have the energy for him and his bullshit today. A cheesy heart shaped box of chocolates is set onto the essay you just started reading. You finally look up and see a frazzled looking Bucky in his seat, He’s holding a bouquet of your favorite flowers, a nervous grin on his face.

“I fucked up-” he starts.

“You don’t say,” you move the box of chocolates off the paper to start reading it again.

“I overheard Brock the other day saying you were going to stand me up,” he rushes out, your gaze meeting his as he continues. A proud smile on his face about the next sentence, “Steve already told me that you threatened to beat Rumlow up for me. But that’s not the point. I thought you were going to stand me up, so I didn’t want to give you that satisfaction so I never showed up.”

“Why would I stand you up?” you ask slowly, eyeing the flower stems you fear he may crush out of nerves.

“Because I look like this,” he admits quietly, using the flowers to gesture to his slightly protruding belly.

“I love how you look Bucky,” you grab the flowers and set them on the table, grabbing both his hands in yours. “It’s incredibly sexy, you’re sexy. Especially when your sleeves are rolled up and your tie is loosened. I love you James, your personality makes it impossible not to.”

“You love me?” he lets go of one hand, bringing it up to caress your cheek.

“Of course I do,” Steve leans back in his seat, a fond smile on his face, his best friends finally got their shit together.

“Let me make it up to you tonight! I can make us dinner and we can stay in. Or I can take you anywhere you want to go. We can go bowling, or see a movie-”

While his rambling is adorable, you cut him off with a soft kiss. It’s not as long or as passionate as either of you would like, but you have an audience of coworkers and you don’t want to get carried away. Brock stomps out of the breakroom like a child when he sees you and Bucky.

“I love you too, doll,” Bucky admits dreamily.

permanent tags: @crimson-knuckled-queen @rexorangecouny @mrs-malfoy-always

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lovlydovlyjaycie · 4 years

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Ævi - Frontlines

Hey again! This will be a continued series. The first Ævi series is in my masterlist and is only four parts. This is going to be a ongoing series, so there is going to be a lot more of Ævi to come. :)

Summary: Y/n or also known as Ævi has lived through varies of world events. Now it is 1941, she has excepted that some things cannot be changed so Loki has convinced Y/n to go to New York and live a normal life, a life Y/n always wanted. Or as normal it can be, because new introductions lead to events that didn’t go down in the history books.

Warnings: Fluff

Characters: Y/n, Loki and more to come. Wink, wink

Main masterlist

Series masterlist

Part one

1941

Loki had thought it was a good idea to go to a party in New York. But that was a total bust. What he and I think of as a party couldn’t be more opposite. “You enjoyed that?” I asked Loki a little disappointed. This has been a area I have been waiting for the 40s. All the dancing. And in a couple of years celebrating freedom. “It was very civil. Something I thought I would never say of humans. Sometimes people on Asgard can be barbaric.. Especially Thor.” He muttered that last part under his breath. “Yes.. It was civil, but it was boring. They have these amazing places where people go out to dance and just.. have fun. Something I think the majority have never heard off in there.” I told Loki. We were walking the streets of New York. A few cars passed by every now and then. I was looking for a place where we could go dance. “Ok we’re not gonna find anything here.” I said looking around. “Find what?” Loki asked ready to go to the hotel room we had rented. “A party! To dance! Not one of those where people like to talk about money and stocks, cause lets be honest we both are not interested in that.” Loki gave me a small nod and smile at that. “Alright, but I am not going dancing. And besides there is no place here to go dancing anyway. So lets be on our way back to the hotel.” He tried to dismiss me. Keyword tried. I’m not giving up that easily. “Let’s go to Brooklyn! They have good places there. Here I’ll get us a cab!” I was putting my hand up waving at the cabs passing by. Non had stopped as if yet. “No stop that. We went to a party, now we are going back.” He told me. But then a cab stopped and I got in. “You know any places to go dancing in Brooklyn?” I asked the cab driver and he nodded his head. “Well.. You coming or what, cause otherwise I’ll just go without you. You decide Loki.” Loki sighed at that. “Fine but no longer than fifteen minutes.” He said as he climbed in the cad. “An hour.” He shook his head. “Twenty minutes.” He retorted. “An hour.” I told him again. The cab started moving at this point. “Thirty minutes.” He was getting annoyed, but I wasn’t about to give in. “One hour.” I told him again. He sighed. “Fine, but I’m not dancing, so you’ll have to find somebody.” I just shrugged at that. “You’re not a good dancer anyway. You’d just embarrass me.” And Loki rolled his eyes. I was ecstatic, I was so excited to go dancing. Just don’t know these kind of moves yet.

After about thirty minutes the driver dropped us off at a dance hall. You could hear the music booming outside and I couldn’t wait to get in. “Be careful! You are not exactly dressed like you belong here.” The cab driver said. We did kind of looked out of place here. Loki and I were very dressed up, Loki was wearing a very expensive looking suit and me, I was wearing a light almost steel colored dress my hair done half up half down and my lips were red. This place certainly wasn’t on the richer part of town. But those people don’t know how to really live up a party anyway.

We walked in and there was jazz music playing. “Come on lets dance!” I cheered. “No.” He was standing still in place and not budging. “Come on Loki! It’ll be fun! Besides, you owe me.” He put his hand on his chest like he was surprised. “What do I owe you.” I narrowed my eyes at him. “You were the one to convince me to go to America in a time like this. Saying, and I quote, ‘You have tried to change history and it didn’t work, so this time won’t be different, go show me around America please.” I crossed my arms and gave him a pointed look. “Yes to the first part and no to the second. Never said I wanted to go here.” I rolled my eyes. “Come on! we will just dance for an hour and then we’re out.” “I told you I’m not dancing.” He retorted. “Fine I’ll find somebody else to dance with than.” I looked around the dance floor and saw everybody have a partner to dance with. Some were just hanging around by tables and others were by bars. I decided to try it there. I saw a man standing alone by the bar. Perfect, doesn’t seem like he has a date. I have got to say who ever the is, he looks handsome even from the back. Broad shoulders, tall and dark hair. Hopefully he likes to dance and isn’t just here for the drinks.

As I walked over I got a lot of looks from almost everybody. I did look like I was very out of place. But I’m here to have a good time just like everybody else. My eyes were se ton whoever this man was. I noticed that some men had tried to come up and start a conversation with me, but I ignored them. This would be very embarrassing if that man does not want to dance. Anyway the man that was by the bar was leaning against it, so I did the same as I got there. “What are the recommended drinks?” I asked the tall man. He was taking a gulp of his beer and slightly choked when he looked at me. I’ll take that as a compliment. “They don’t have the fancy stuff here if that is what you are looking for. Mostly just beer.” He answered. His eyes were piercing. A steel blue and slightly hooded. “Guess I’ll have that than.” I said waving the waiter over and I ordered.

“So what is a dame like you doing in a place like this?” He asked, fully intrigued. “I came because I wanted to dance, but my friend over there is not so convinced.” I told him pointing with my finger over to Loki. He looked very uncomfortable. That made me slightly laugh. “Is he your husba-” “Oh God no! He’s a friend. He is just doesn’t like to have fun.” He looked a little relieved. “And now you’re here.” I nodded. “Now I’m here, living my life like my days are numbered.” He laughed at that. “Good way to see things.” He noted. The waiter came over with my beer and I nodded a thank you. “So what’s your name doll?” The nickname made me smile. The way it rolled off his tongue so easily. “I’m y/n Ironside.” I told him. Long ago I had taken Bjorn’s name and I still used it after almost a thousand years. I put my hand forward for him to shake. “James Barnes, but friends call me Bucky.” He took my hand and shook it slightly. It felt like electricity running through me. “Bucky?” I asked. “Yeah it comes from my second name, Buchanan.” He explained. “That’s cute.” And I slightly smiled. ”Well Bucky, would you like to dance with me?” I asked him and he smirked. “I thought you were never going to ask.” And he pulled me with him to the dancefloor. I now noticed that we were holding hands the entire time. It made me blush. It felt strange getting these feelings. But I pushed it down and thought nothing of it.

As we were standing in the middle of the dance floor something upbeat started playing. “I don’t know how to dance to this.” Bucky gave me another smirk at that. “Follow my lead!” He answered. He started twirling me around on the beat. It was hard to keep up. I was looking at the people around me what they were doing when I stepped on Bucky’s toe. “Oh sorry!” I grimaced. “It’s alright doll. Don’t get distracted by the people around you. Focus on me.” So I did. I followed his every move and tried to keep up. Still sometimes I stepped on his toes, but it was definitely a lot easier if I wasn’t looking at what everyone around me was doing. After the first song ended I didn’t even notice that there were other people around. Bucky and I were having fun, laughing at the mistakes I was making. It felt very nice for a moment not to think about what was happening in Europe. Then a slow song came on. I stepped closer to him and guided his hand around my my lower back. Then I put my left hand on his shoulder and grabbed his free hand with my right. “So, you do know how to slow dance?” He noted. “I do.” I mean I have sort of slowed danced for about a thousand years, so you could say I am well trained. Obviously couldn’t tell him that. “But you have been a good teacher for teaching me the fast pace parts.” I smiled at him. It was a lot of fun. Fun I haven’t had in a while. “You’re welcome. They don’t do that where you’re from?” Bucky asked. I smiled. They definitely do not dance like that on Asgard and also those type of dances change a lot over the years. “No they do not.” I told him smiling. “So.. You didn’t have a date tonight or.. Did you just come here by yourself?” I wondered out loud. “Oh no. I was with a friend of mine. Steve. But he left earlier. I was just gonna grab a bier before leaving, but then I met this beautiful dame that wanted to dance. And I would be a damned fool to say no to that.” He laughed. “Well I’m glad that I saw you by the bar then.” I stated smiling at him. I looked at our hand that were intertwined and so did he. I had a ring on my middle finger that Loki had gifted me a long time ago. It had the Yggdrasil tree on it. He said it was my symbol and that we are one, I was the protector of life, therefore the protector of the tree of life. It had a magic ability to snap me in to my fighting suit whenever needed. It was a great gift and it made it a lot easier to not have to change every time. “That looks like a old ring.” Bucky noted. “Uhm, yes it has been with me for as long as I can remember.” “Family heirloom?” He asked. “Hmm-hmm.” I nodded my head yes. “It’s a beautiful ring.” I smiled at that. I really loved it as well. “Thank you.”

“Time is up y/n. We’re leaving.” Loki came up behind me. I sighed. I was having so much fun with Bucky and I didn’t want this night to end yet. “After the song has ended.” I told Loki not even looking at him and still dancing with Bucky. He looked slightly uncomfortable, maybe intimidated by Loki. “You said one hour. It has been one hour. We’re leaving this awful place.” He was clearly getting annoyed, but Loki was always annoyed, so it didn’t bother me and he had a habit of giving in anyway. “I’ll leave after this dance. You can either wait here in the middle of the dancefloor or wait outside of it.” He sighed. Giving in and saying; “Fine.” Very annoyed.

“Very strong willed woman.” Bucky stated impressed. Now it was my turn to smirk. “He doesn’t know how to live in the moment some times.” I stated looking over my shoulder at Loki who was looking very impatient. And annoyed. That gave me an idea. “How do you feel about living in the moment?” I asked Bucky. “No better way to live.” He said smiling. I looked around quickly. “Alright. When the music ends you wanna go for that exit behind you?” He looked around quickly and gave me a shocked face. “You sure you wanna do that doll?” Bucky asked a bit unsure of it all. “It will be hilarious! Are you in?” He dropped his face in a smile. “Where ever you go.” He answered back. Loki is going to be so annoyed. It’s a bit childish of me, but I’m gonna love seeing his face after.

Bucky and I danced for a bit until the next song started playing. I quickly looked back and saw that Loki was coming up to us again. “Now run!” I yelled at Bucky. I pulled him with me towards the exit as fast as I could not looking back. I pushed the people who were in front of me aside in a fit of laughter. I heard Bucky was laughing too. Then we got outside and ran as fast as we could this time Bucky was pulling me with him. “How far?” He asked laughing. “Far enough!” I yelled back. People that were walking on the street looked at us slightly disturbed which only made this ten times more funnier.

We ran maybe two blocks away from the dancing place. We both slowed down still laughing at the situation. “You sure he is not going to be mad about this?” Bucky asked still laughing. “Don’t worry he’s not going to be mad at you, but with me, it’s fine.” I reassured him. “Alright.” Bucky said spinning me around. All this time still holding hands. “One more dance?” He asked me this time. “There is no music.” I stated smiling. “Let me think.” Bucky told me. “Somewhere over the rainbow, way up high, there’s a land that I heard of, once in a lullaby.” I started singing. Bucky smiled at me and took my other hand an guided me on the street. I continued singing as we were dancing. This song always made me thing of Asgard funnily enough. I always thought of the rainbow as the Bifrost, because when I didn’t understand any of this I thought it was a actual rainbow. And now, in this time, Asgard and it’s stories are lullabies. “I like this song.” He told me. I smiled an continued singing again. I started resting my head against his shoulder. This moment felt very peaceful in all the hectic-ness that was going around earth.

After the song it was time for me to go back to Loki. Enough messing with him for today. “I need to go back.” I told Bucky. He nodded his head in understanding. “Let me walk you back.” And so we walked back and it would end our time. I usually never saw the people I met on earth twice. It raised a lot of questions if there was a little more time in between, seeing I don’t age. Also if I hung out with the same people for too long it started raising questions as to why I was not aging. In the past people have thought I was a witch because of that. So I decided to just not have any relations with humans at all anymore. Which made me sad. Asguardians are great and all, but human.. I was one of them once or I still am, it’s just not the same. As we came closer to the dancehall I felt sad. “I had a really good time.” I told Bucky sincere. He was kind, funny and such a gentleman. “Me too. Uhm I have an extra ticket for the cinema tomorrow, would you like to come with me?” Bucky asked me. I wanted to see him again, but it wouldn’t be wise of me to do so. “I-” “there you are! I have been looking everywhere like a fool. It is time to go home now! I got us a taxi.” Loki said as he started pulling me with him. Now was the first time I let go of Bucky’s hand since I had met him. It felt empty now, cold. “Wait!” I got out of Loki’s grip and ran back to Bucky. “Thank you for tonight.” I told him holding his hands one last time and a gave him a quick kiss on his left cheek before I let go and ran back towards a irritated Loki. I just shrugged at him as I followed him to a taxi.

As we sat in the taxi I looked if I could still see Bucky and I did. I wish I had answered his question for the cinema, but it would only make it more difficult if I did. The car started moving and Loki and I were off to our hotel. I gave him a final wave before I couldn’t see him anymore and looked down. “Oh please, you get attached too easily. You met him not two hours ago.” Loki stated. “He was different.” Is all I had to say, and he was, he was different. “You shouldn’t fall for these humans.. their lives are short and meaningless. Asguardians have a much longer lifespan.” I just rolled my eyes at that. “Their lives being short gives a lot more meaning to them.” I said under my breath.

Two weeks later

Bucky POV

“How about Dottie?” Steve asked. He was asking me if I went on any other dates with her. But truth be told. After I had met Y/n I couldn’t think of anybody else. I sighed and took a sip of my coke, we were sitting at a diner. “No? Buck you still got your mind on this girl? It’s been two weeks.” He tried to reason. He was right, but a girl like y/n I have never met before. “She was somethin’ else Steve.” Was all I has to say. “How was she so special?” Steve asked. “She was beautiful, you had to see her. She had this beautiful smile and this glistening in her y/e/c eyes. She carried herself in a way that was just so graceful. And she was so kind. and her laugh, Steve, you had to hear her laugh.” I sounded crazy, but that one encounter with her was what that did to me. “Well if it is meant to be you’ll see her again.” He tried to cheer me up. I looked out of the window at all the people that were walking around going places, work, home. “Maybe it wasn’t.” I said quietly. I wanted to look for her, but she would definitely think I’m crazy if I succeeded in that and I wouldn’t want to scare her away. In the corner of my eye I saw a woman walking the same walk as y/n did. I tried to get a better look, as much as I could with the window being in the way and the people on the street. I could only see her back. She had a yellow dress on with the same hairdo as y/n had that night. “It’s her.” I couldn’t believe it. I immediately stood up and walked out of the diner as fast as I could. I kept a quick pace to keep up with her. “Y/n!”

...

Let me know what you think!

Yes the dancing part of the street is totally an idea of the Notebook, it is one of my favorite movies and I always thought it was so romantic :)

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imgoingtocrash · 3 years

Text

my teen angst bullshit has a body count

by @imgoingtocrash for @hailxhydra

Rating: T

Relationships: Peter Parker & Tony Stark, Ned Leeds & Peter Parker, Peter Parker & Avengers Team

Characters: Peter Parker, Tony Stark, Ned Leeds, Flash Thompson, Jim Morita, Hydra Agents

Summary:

“Correcting people all the time, sucking up attention with the whole goody two-shoes act. I’m saying you’re a teacher’s pet, loser. And one day, everyone’s going to see it for the act that it is, and when they do—”

Peter’s hearing blanks out.

Pet.

It echoes.

Two years ago, Peter Parker escaped Hydra's control and was taken in by the Avengers. Traumatized from the experience but healing, Peter's starting to get a hang of this whole normal teenager thing. However, when Flash brings up a happily forgotten trigger from his past, Tony comes to give comfort and remind Peter that he's worth more to his loved ones than Hydra could have ever dreamed of.

Read on AO3

My fic for @friendly-neighborhood-exchange! Hopefully you enjoy it @hailxhydra!!!

Full fic under the cut as requested by the exchange:

“—But I’m asking if it’s a good movie.”

“I’m telling you, it was either picking Selena for the third time or Rio, which is a stupid animated movie about birds.” Ned shakes his head dramatically. “Everybody else will fall asleep, and if everybody falls asleep, then Misses Rodriguez will give us a pop quiz instead of letting us have a movie day.”

“But I like animated movies. We like them. We watched A Bug’s Life like last week!”

“Because you hadn’t seen it before! Your film under-education is criminal, and if I don’t help you fix it, who will?!”

Ned has a point. Being kidnapped and raised by Hydra after the age of six really limits a person’s entertainment consumption, as he’s learned more than ever now that he’s surrounded by other teenagers who grew up with movies and tv shows to watch at their fingertips.

“I mean, Steve does have a list…” Peter points out weakly.

Steve keeps it in his little notebook along with other things he doesn’t understand the references to yet. He tried to encourage Peter to start something like that in the beginning, but Peter’s never really considered himself a list person. He just sort of soaks up the world now, like a curious sponge. Sometimes it means he has to Google things he doesn’t really understand the meaning of, but it also means a lot of movie nights with both the other Avengers and Ned, which is actually sort of a bonus.

Ned stops them in the hall. “Yeah, but are they cool movies or are they movies for old people and war veterans who haven’t been alive for the last 100 years?”

“...You know that I don’t really know the difference.”

Ned gives a sad shake of his head. “You’re lucky you liked Star Wars, bro. Otherwise we’d be in a very different place right now, like, friendship-wise.”

“You still didn’t answer the question.”

Peter got to pick the movie for their classes’ Cinco de Mayo party. Peter’s not sure what either movie has to do with the Mexican Army’s historical defeat of the French, but he only picked Selena because Ned suggested it. Maybe he should be regretting that choice, if the other option was harmless little Spanish birds.

“You know, Parker, I have a question,” comes a very annoyingly musical voice from behind them.

Peter just barely resists to roll his eyes. Every time with this kid. Not that Peter is any less of a kid than Flash Thompson, technically, but he definitely feels more mature.

Ned, also more mature than some of their other classmates, completely ignores Flash.

“You’ll be humming the disco medleys for weeks, I promise.”

“Wait, wait, disco? I thought you said this was supposed to take place in the 80s and 90s?”

“Music endures, dude.”

“Hey, el idiots, I’m talking to you!” Flash interrupts again.

“That’s not even how you—” Peter starts to correct, only to realize he’s stepped directly in it when Ned groans.

Flash laughs obnoxiously to himself. “Just can’t help yourself, can you, Penis?”

“I don’t know what you’re talking about,” Peter grumbles. It doesn’t really matter what he says now. Flash has the attention that he wanted, which means he won’t bug off until the bell rings and until he has the last laugh. And that always happens, because he’s really the only one entertained by all of the poking and prodding at Peter.

Peter breathes in, steeling himself. He’s survived worse. So much worse. Bullies with electric prongs and steel cages and control over every other aspect of his life. This is just high school. Normal kids survive it all the time, even when there are bullies and bad test grades and cliquey subcultures. This is just one privileged asshole who thinks Peter’s an easy target.

In some way, Peter’s actually proud of that. No one has ever seen him as un-intimidating before. Even his Hydra captors knew that if they lost control of him as an asset, he could easily turn on them.

(Part of him always asks why he never did. If he wasn’t evil, if he wasn’t like them, then why didn’t he just fight back? But Sam says that’s just his mind trying to deal with trauma, and Peter is trying really, really hard to get better at ignoring those kinds of intrusive thoughts.)

Speaking of talking to himself, Flash snaps his fingers in Peter’s face to get his attention back.

“You’d think for such a genius, you’d be a lot quicker on the uptake.” Flash shakes his head like he’s disappointed.

“Please just get to the point already,” Ned begs, throwing his head back.

Peter’s hearing blanks out.

Pet.

It echoes.

C’mere, Pet.

Stay down, Pet!

He was property, he was an animal, he was a weapon, their weapon, he was a mutant and he deserved it, needed it, he was the Spider, a mongrel, nothing, he was nothing and no one and Hydra was the only home a no-good runt like the Spider would ever have and he should be grateful—Kneel, Pet, be a good boy and kneel for your masters—but he doesn’t want to, he doesn’t—

Foolish Pet, you wouldn’t survive out there.

You need us, Pet. You’ll always need us.

“Peter?”

He returns to the moment with one heaving breath, only to realize he can’t take in another.

His collar is too tight, they always put it on too tight and if he complains they hit him and if they hit him he bleeds and it gets on his clothes and he won’t get any more until his bath and he hates bath time because they water is cold and stings his skin and the soap is so harsh it burns his nostrils and they’re watching him he knows they’re watching because they never leave him alone because if they did he would try to escape, he would—

“Peter, what’s wrong, are you—?”

He did. He escaped and ran away but now they have him again and he can’t live like this, not when he knows about best friends and pizza and friendly ribbing and how warm he feels when Tony pulls Peter close on the couch and presses a kiss to his head and tells Peter that he’s proud. He can’t be here anymore, he has to go, he has to run.

“Peter, wait!”

Tony is, to say the least, nervous when he gets a call from Midtown Tech’s front office.

He trusts Peter by now. The kid has come a long, long way since he snuck onto the Avengers helicarrier during the chaos of a Hydra raid. Skinny as a rail, scared, brainwashed...abused.

The Spider.

Peter didn’t like being with Hydra since they were the ones that made him enhanced, but he sure as hell didn’t want to be locked in an enclosed space with a bunch of Avengers at the time either.

As was evident by the fight he put up until Steve knocked him out. Steve still feels bad about cold-clocking a kid when Peter jokingly brings it up now, but Tony’s never shamed Steve for the decision. It was that or some kind of drug injection with the way Peter fought back tooth and nail, confused and defensive. Practically feral, from the well-fitting clothing to his lack of speech.

It was all for the better, though, once they got him back to the compound.

Peter was a talkative kid once he let himself be. Funny, too. Almost normal, if you forgot the mutant spider genetics and years of torture from a bunch of descendant assholes that seemed to hate and resent the very thing they created.

That’s why Tony agreed to let Peter start school. Real, normal, human school just like every other teenager in America attended until they finished all twelve years of it.

Because he needed to be normal, sometimes. He needed movie nights, [other things], and most importantly, friends that were his own age rather than a bunch of adult superheroes that often acted like children.

But also because Peter wanted to go, and Tony had a really, really hard time denying anything that the kid wanted when he could so easily provide.

Peter had such a hard time wanting anything, in the beginning. What did Peter want to wear instead of the plain, grey, dirty sweatpants from Hydra? What did Peter want to eat now that he could have an adequate amount of calories for his enhanced, still growing body? What did he want to watch? Listen to?

All of these choices were suddenly available to Peter, but shaking years of being denied any kind of want, any kind of choice took a toll on him that took a lot of work to get through.

Peter had put in the work. Unsurprisingly well. He was smart—tactically from years of being trained for missions, academically from whatever education Hydra must have thrust upon him. Not so much socially, but they were doing better as Peter spent more time around people that actually cared about him and lobbed insults around to tease rather than to actually cause emotional harm.

But was that enough...training, of sorts, to be around a bunch of teenagers? Sure, Peter was technically also a teenager, but they’d found him at 14. Tony still looked at Peter and saw the wide-eyed little kid sitting in the corner of a containment cell, flinching every time Tony moved.

Two years later and a lot of growth physically and emotionally, but was it enough?

Tony was hesitant about it, wish-washing the entire summer with maybes and I’ll think about its until the deadline arrived and Tony had to actually make the call.

Peter had pleaded, citing an extensive, cheesy list of films that made him want the high school experience himself for some reason. He very genuinely enjoyed shopping for school supplies. He passed Midtown’s entrance exam with results that faked years progressing in homeschooling that Tony knew would have been true, if Peter had gotten the chance to grow up like he was supposed to.

So, Tony eventually said yes, knowing that one day this call might come and Tony would have to be prepared for whatever was on the other end of the line.

An “incident” of some kind. Whatever that meant. The secretary was entirely unclear, only insistent that Peter’s family should get down to the premises immediately to handle things.

That was Tony.

Part of Tony couldn’t fathom why Peter chose him out of everyone on the team to latch onto. Another part wasn’t exactly shocked. Trauma recognized trauma, after all, even if the context was entirely different.

Tony knew what it was like to be belittled. To be seen as something you weren’t. To be abused by someone you never really trusted in the first place.

He and Peter talked a lot in that little containment cell. Hours of Tony blabbering like he always did when he was uncomfortable and Peter just sitting and waiting, waiting, waiting for the strikes to start coming.

When he said his first words.

When he told Tony his name—not Spider, but Peter Parker, a little boy from Queens who lost his parents and his whole normal life in the same night, according to FRIDAY’s records.

When he touched Tony’s arm for the first time and got a smile instead of a reprimand.

He waited and Tony was patient and it was a rough road, but...Tony was kind of a parent, now. A parental figure, at least, among others of varying degrees of quality and influence on a scarred teenager.

He was Peter’s family, whether either of them was any good at it in a traditional way or not.

And also, you know. His money was paying Peter’s tuition. His time went into helping Peter study for the entrance exam. His name was technically on Peter’s manufactured birth certificate because he was the one forging it and it wasn’t like anyone else was offering when the subject came up.

And maybe, a little, because he cared about Peter. Loved him. Wanted to be what Peter needed, what he deserved, and what better way to do that than to write his name on a piece of paper that signified the job he sort of kind of wanted?

Tony slams the car door behind himself after pulling into Midtown’s parking lot, putting on his sunglasses for the brief trip into the early afternoon sun. He’s checking security cameras, exits, and also preparing a hefty sum of cash to go into Principal Jim Morita’s bank account as well as a handful of government officials, if that’s what it takes.

Again, not that Tony doesn’t trust Peter, it’s just...when you get this kind of call and your kid is a highly trained former assassin, you prepare exit strategies on multiple fronts.

It’s been two months and Peter has only made one friend at this place. The kids can’t all be angels like Peter proclaims Ned Leeds to be. If one of them touched Peter out of nowhere or said the wrong thing, maybe Peter lashed out. Maybe Peter forgot to hold his strength back like he’s been training to do. Maybe something was broken.

Maybe it’s something far worse.

Tony has to be ready for that. He has to be ready for whatever it takes to protect Peter.

At the very least, the police aren’t on site. That’s probably a good sign that they’re willing to leave this as an internal matter for now.

The unhelpful secretary of before leads Tony out of the office by the arm at a quick pace, not explaining the situation at all before they arrive at the scene. Whatever it is. Tony was definitely expecting more blood or yelling or...anything, really.

A small crowd stands outside of a door, marked by a golden plaque to be the janitor’s closet.

Leaning on the door itself with his arms resolutely crossed is a kid about Peter’s age. Short black hair, light brown skin, dressed so similarly to Peter that Tony’s starting to wonder if that’s where Peter’s new obsession with those geeky little t-shirts has come from.

“Mister Leeds—” An older Asian man pleads, dressed in a suit and standing up straight with all of the authority he can seem to muster against the stone wall that is the teen in front of him.

The kid shakes his head in response. So this is Ned, then.

“I’m sorry, sir, but I’m not moving. If he wants to stay in there to calm down, he should be allowed to stay in there.”

“I’m sure his parents—”

“He doesn’t even have—you don’t even know what he’s gone through!”

“And you do?”

“Well...kinda? No. But—but he’s obviously freaking out and everyone crowding around him is only going to make it worse!”

The adult rubs a hand across his forehead, stressing at a fold of wrinkles that settles there from the stress.

“Ned, I recognize you’re just trying to be a good friend, but this is a problem for—”

Tony clears his throat, catching the attention of both parties.

The older man sighs. “Oh, good. Thank you, Theresa, you can go on back to the office. We’ll take it from here.”

The secretary nods, brusquely turning around and heading off, leaving Tony there to be examined by both Ned and what must be the principal.

“Mister Stark, I’m glad you could come down, though I’m sorry it’s under these circumstances. I’m Principal Morita.”

“Obviously you know who I am,” Tony replies, shaking the man’s hand. “What did happen, exactly? Theresa was sparse on the details.”

“I told you, it’s Flash’s fault! He was being a dick and—” Ned shouts.

“Mister Leeds.” The principal interrupts, stern. “Another student apparently said something...unkind to Peter. He didn’t take it well and locked himself in the closet. I haven’t even been able to assess the situation properly yet. Normally I would start with asking Peter’s side of the story, but...”

He looks to the closet, where Ned still stands, defensive.

“The bouncer is a real stickler, got it,” Tony jokes, aiming a small smile at Ned. “Peter does seem to attract the protective type.”

“Oh,” Ned says, suddenly meeting Tony’s eyes and gaping like a fish. He seems to have finally realized exactly who he’s talking to. “Oh, wow. Mister Stark, it’s an honor. I’m a huge fan, like, so huge. Peter tells me to shut up about you at least three times a day. When he showed me a picture of you guys I was like, ‘Oh my god, your dad is Tony Stark!’ and he was like ‘Oh. Yeah, I guess you’d know who he is, huh?’ like he totally didn’t get how awesome it is that you’re Iron Man. And I know you’re only kind of his dad, but still—”

“It’s suddenly become very clear to me why you two are friends,” Tony responds, keeping his smile on.

It’s actually kind of sweet to see that Peter’s found someone to confide in, even if he’s seemingly left out the more traumatic elements. But he also knows that Peter can hear them through the door, and he wants to get to the kid as fast as possible instead of dawdling for time.

If Peter wants to see him, that is.

He does, doesn’t he? Tony has been there for everything, so far. Every breakdown when the choices became too much, when the world outside of Peter’s little cell and all of the things he did that he wishes he could forget attack him at night. He hasn’t gotten old enough to not want Tony around when he’s upset, right?

“Sorry, Mister Stark. Sorry,” Ned apologizes. “I’m just nervous and worried about Peter and—”

“I get it, kid. You’re good.” He gives a reassuring grasp to Ned’s shoulder. “But if you wouldn’t mind, I really need to see Peter now. You can ask him yourself, but I’m usually the exception to any rule about Peter wanting to be alone.”

“Right, yeah. I’ll just—”

Ned turns to open the door, but gives Morita a shifty look, like he doesn’t trust the man not to dive bomb in if given the chance.

“Peter—”

“Let him in,” replies Peter’s strained voice. He’s definitely been crying. Poor kid.

Ned pulls back and nods at Tony, stepping aside to let him through.

“You did a good job protecting him, Leeds. Thank you,” he says to the teen before stepping into the dimly lit closet and shutting the door behind him.

The room smells musty and over-powerful at the same time thanks to the potent combination of cleaners and the mop cart sitting so close together. Out of anywhere Peter could have picked, this probably isn’t the kindest to his sense of smell if it’s making Tony already scrunch his nose.

It’s lit by a single pull-chain light bulb, and in the shadows of it sits Peter, curled into himself and leaning against a rusty metal shelf filled with paper towels, cleaning equipment, and a few bottles of product that have to be expired.

“Hey, Pete.” Tony frowns at the cracked floor tile, but settles himself next to Peter anyway. His back catches some kind of spray bottle sitting on the shelf that digs uncomfortably into his back.

Peter sniffs, not looking up from the cradle of his arms. “Hey.”

Tony heaves a sigh, for the drama. “So, I hear you got your first bully.”

Peter shrugs. “Guess so.”

“That Ted kid is pretty nice. He’s a good friend.”

“Yeah. And his name is Ned.”

Tony stops beating around the bush. “What happened, Peter?”

“It was fine. It was good, you know? I got an A+ on my Spanish test, and Misses Rodriguez offered to let me choose the movie we were gonna watch for the Cinco de Mayo party as a reward. I didn’t even know any of the movies, but Ned said Selena was good because Jennifer Lopez is hot, so that’s what I picked. It was a good day, Tony!”

“...But?”

“But then Flash—”

“I meant to ask, is that his actual name? Like, legally?”

“No.”

“Oh thank god.”

“Flash said…he said I was a…” Peter’s hesitant to let it out.

“Pete, a lot of kids at this age are testing boundaries. They’re going to say a lot of stupid, insensitive, offensive—”

“He said I was a teacher’s pet.”

There’s a long minute of silence. Tony blinks curiously a few times. He doesn’t want to belittle what Peter’s feeling, but he also doesn’t understand why it’s caused him so much stress.

“I know, I know it’s—but they used to—” Peter swallows hard, probably only delaying another wave of tears. “Sometimes, before, they would call me…”

“Pet.”

Peter nods, starting to shake next to him on the floor, their arms lightly touching at just Tony saying the nickname.

“They liked it. I think it made them feel better about themselves if they acted like I wanted it. Like—like being locked in the cages or collared or—or being muzzled was good for me.”

“You need to learn a lesson, little pet. Be a good pet and eat your dinner. Stop your crying, pet. No more of your barking, pet.” Peter quotes with venom flinging from every syllable. “But I didn’t want that, Mister Stark! I promise! They gave me these powers and I didn’t want to be their pet and they made me—”

“Peter, I know. It’s not your fault. None of it is your fault, I know.”

Tony curls Peter into his side, rubbing his back consolingly.

“When Flash called me that I just—I felt the collar around my neck again and I couldn’t breathe though the muzzle and they kept kicking the cage even though it hurt my ears and I could never sleep in there because it was so small and—”

“Peter—” Peter’s hyperventilating. He’s panicking, Tony realizes. Probably just like he did initially. A flashback that triggered him into having a panic attack.

“And I know that’s not what Flash meant but I was back there and I can’t—I can’t stop—”

Peter breaks into sobs, burying his face into Tony’s shirt and clutching on tight.

“Oh, Pete. It’s okay. You’re okay,” Tony soothes.

He presses a kiss to Peter’s hair, unsure when he became this tender. Probably the moment he realized this was the way he wanted someone to treat him in the midst of his worst, most vulnerable moments.

“Sometimes the bad memories come back unexpectedly, it’s alright.”

“But don’t wanna think about it anymore!” Peter cries childishly.

If it wouldn’t break Tony’s ribs, Peter would probably start banging at his chest in frustration.

“What if it gets bad and I don’t talk anymore and I can’t go to school like a normal kid and I lose everything and then you won’t want me anymore because I can’t get over this and stop being a stupid animal who needs its owners to—”

“Peter Parker, no. Absolutely not.”

Tony pushes Peter away so he can hold the boy’s face in his hands. So that he can fucking imbue into this kid how much he is loved and cherished and human.

“You’re not property, and you’re not an animal. What they did to you was wrong, and you know that now. I know that you do.”

Not just because Peter’s been to therapy since integrating with the Avengers, but also because he’s talked to all of him during his recovery from the horrors of his earlier childhood. About how his life felt before and how it feels better now. How he wouldn’t have left in the first place if he really wanted to be a part of Hydra like they raised him to want.

He’s not the child soldier they raised anymore. He’s so much more than they ever allowed him to be in that awful place.

He loosens his grip on Peter’s face only to bring him back again with an arm around his shoulder. Maybe if Peter feels him, touches him, the kid will remember all of the growth he’s made, the family he’s gained.

“Buddy, you are getting better. I know it. I’ve seen it. You know we’re all so proud of you and the progress you’ve made.”

Tony sighs. Part of him wants to sugarcoat it. That Peter has seen the worst of the world and now he’ll just be able to move on from it scott-free. It’s what he deserves, but Tony knows from experience that nothing in life is that sort of kind.

“That doesn’t mean you won’t have setbacks. I have had setbacks. Healing from the bad stuff is really, really hard, but it doesn’t make you anything that they said you were. You’re a wonderful, good kid who deserves everything he’s worked so hard for. And you’re going to get it because you have me and the team and your new best friend behind your back. You’re not alone, you’re not in a cage, you’re—you’re home, Pete. You understand?”

Peter sniffs, a sign that he’s worked himself up again, but his weak nod into Tony’s chest tells him that some of them at least might be happier tears.

“Listen to me, Pete. And I mean really, truly listen.” He looks down at the snot-covered, tear-stained teenager practically in his lap. He does love Peter. He wouldn’t have gone this far for any other kid in the world.

“It doesn’t matter what happens—hitches, mishaps, a dumb teenage mistake. You’re our kid now, Peter. You’re never going back to Hydra. Never. Not with me around.”

He knows it means something to say it out loud rather than leaving it to be assumed. He doesn’t have as much of a problem admitting it as he thought he might.

“I’m never giving you up, or letting you go, or treating you like anything other than a person. Do you understand me? That is something you never, ever have to worry about. Not from me.”

Peter sobs against him. This time it feels a lot more like relief. A release in the safety of Tony’s arms that Peter hasn’t really allowed himself, even after two years of being free of Hydra.

Peter didn’t tell the team everything. He may never even tell Tony everything. But this is one more thing Peter doesn’t have to carry alone, and Tony is happy to help their kid navigate the horrors it's brought back into his improving life.

They sit there for another minute, Peter’s whimpers muffled in Tony’s dress shirt. He’s sure the principal and Peter’s friend are getting antsy. But all the same it gives Peter another chance to calm down, and this time he seems a lot lighter when he picks his head up to look at Tony.

“Feel better?”

Peter gives a sniffle, but accompanies it with a nod and bright, attentive eyes.

“Look, I think school’s a bust for the day. Let’s go home. Whatever you wanna do, just you and me. Nobody else needs to hear about this unless you want to tell them, okay?”

“And if you wanted, I guess…”

Peter tilts his head, expectant.

“We could...nah, it’s probably offensive, right?”

“What?” Peter insists. Tony tried to warn him, but Tony also can’t resist an idea once it pops into his head.

“I just thought, you know, if you wanted—if you thought it would help, we could get you a—“ He almost ruins it, but catches himself. “An animal. Like a dog or something.”

Peter is silent. He bites at his lip, contemplative. Looks in the direction of a mop bucket in the corner.

“Is that bad? You don’t have to, I just thought it might make you associate that word with good things, but if not—“

Peter finally meets his eyes with a tentative grin on his face.

“What kind of dog?”

#irondad #spiderson #au #friendly neighborhood exchange 2021 #marvel #peter parker #tony stark #my writing #hailxhydra

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