#even if he didn’t look like a walking mugshot the things that come out of his mouth are repellent

[fingertipsmp3]

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[justsome-di]

Nobody Ends Up Dead in a Bathtub, Everyone Keeps Their Organs: Chapter 36 of 37

Summary: Alex is an ordinary, highly-introverted office worker. He clocks in and out and goes home to his little apartment he shares with his younger sister. He hasn’t dated in years by the time his co-workers set him up on a blind date.

The only issue is he and his date are not on the same page. At all.

While Alex thinks it’s a normal date, Damián is under the impression Alex is a client who paid to be there. No-so-quickly, they realize something is up. It’s all a prank. Damián is a sex worker Alex’s co-workers hired as a sick joke.

After reassuring that they’re both okay, Alex decides he wants revenge for both him and Damián. The plan is to use the stigma of sex work and start a 6-week, scandalous fake dating scheme with a big finale at the office Halloween party. Alex’s co-workers will be too horrified to try to prank him again. At least, that’s the plan.

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True crime provided a little catharsis. Damián couldn’t help but feel a smidgen of glee when the kidnapper of the story was caught by a local group of true crime enthusiasts and, mysteriously, was handed over to police battered and bloody. He punched the air when they showed his mugshot, one eye swollen shut and his lip bloody and split.

It was nice how a community looked out for one another. A child went missing in a small town, police did nothing, and so everyone else jumped in to help. It was a happy ending. He would let himself believe that that happened more often than not.

He leaned into Alex and let his warmth comfort him. He was in his apartment, he was safe, and he had made up with Alex. Good things were going to come, he told himself. He would forget how Jason’s arms felt around him someday. There would be better times ahead.

He’d take some time off from booking new clients and let himself rest for a little bit—even though he wasn’t great at the resting thing. Diego would understand if he canceled their upcoming appointment. He always understood, thank god. Damián would just have to make up three appointments now.

As the credits rolled on the episode, Eve and Leo walked in, Leo glaring in the direction of Alex for a moment before softening his gaze toward his brother. Damián would talk to him later.

“Aren’t you two cute!” Damián cooed.

They were in their costumes. Eve in jeans and a white button-up top, a child’s brown vest with fringe, and a plastic water gun at her hip. And, of course, a child’s hat on her head. It wasn’t a shock that all of the children’s accessories fit. She was quite tiny. Next to Leo, she did look like a child.

“What a cute cowgirl!” Damián said.

“I’m a cowboy,” Eve corrected.

“Ooh. Sorry. Cowboy. Very handsome.” Damián looked at Leo. “And what are you?”

Leo was in a black suit and a headband with lacy bunny ears poking up. “I’m a modest, male Playboy bunny.”

“Creative! I love it!”

“How was the party?” Alex asked.

“It went well,” Eve said. “We had a good time.”

“I got a free book.” Leo waved around a well-loved copy of Stone Butch Blues. The cover was bent and curling. The spine was cracked. “Eve made me take this one. She said it’d make me a better ally.”

“It will definitely do that,” Damián said. “Keep me updated on your journey.”

Eve flopped on the couch next to Damián. “Did you guys make up?”

“Yeah, we’re okay,” Alex said.

“Did you bail on the office party?”

“Yeah.”

Eve groaned. “You didn’t even complete your scheme. This whole thing is anti-climatic. I’m disappointed in both of you.”

Leo sat on the floor by Eve. He threw off his suit jacket and tie to the floor in a pile, immediately getting scolded by Damián. Leo groaned and complained, but Damián dug his knuckles into the top of his head until Leo gave in and picked them up and laid them nicely over the coffee table.

“How do you even pay Damián for it now?” Eve asked.

“I’ll still pay him what I owe him—if he finally accepts it,” Alex said. He looked to Damián. “Will you take it?”

“Don’t worry about it—“

“No, I will. You still did work. We completed some of the scheme.”

Damián sighed and raised his eyes in thought. It was too much math to think about at the moment without his notes. He didn’t care all that much about getting paid at all. The whole thing was a mess, and he had been more than happy to have seen Alex all those times. The $625 was simultaneously way too low and way too high for the past month. Anyone else would have had to pay at least half by now. But he felt bad taking hundreds of dollars from Alex.

“How about we just keep the planning fee which was, what, $75? And then for the first date with Martin and Sam, it was $100, the other was—you know what, just pay $250.”

“No!” Leo said. “Make him pay in full.”

“We didn’t go to the party!” Damián said. “We didn’t finish the appointment!”

“Yeah, but you don’t do refunds.”

“This is different.” Damián turned to Alex and sighed. “I don’t really care.”

“$250 is fine,” Alex said. He pulled out his phone. “It’s low, though. I hope you know Martin told me how much they paid for you that first night.”

Damián waved his hand. “Friends and family discount.”

“Gross,” Eve said. She slipped to the floor next to Leo. “Family discount?”

“Friends discount,” Damián corrected himself.

Alex sent the $250. Damián’s phone buzzed with the payment.

“Are you guys going to hang out with us?” Damián asked.

“Yeah, my social battery is empty,” Eve said. “I can’t go out in public for another week.”

“Don’t you have your exam tomorrow?” Alex asked. “Don’t you want to study?”

“She’s got it down,” Leo said. “She’ll pass tomorrow.”

“And if I don’t know it by now, I won’t learn it in the next 12 hours.” Eve held up finger guns to Alex.

“Leo, are you staying with us?” Damián asked.

Leo didn’t say anything but nestled against Damián’s legs. Damián reached down and very briefly brushed his fingers against the back of Leo’s hair.

Eve chose the next docu-series. It started like any other. A flashy introduction and a vague introduction to the hometown of the victims and then the place of the crime. A voiceover from a townsfolk who was quickly revealed to the camera sitting in his own home. He looked slightly off-camera. His name appeared in little text in the corner of the screen.

Dave Kehler. Jame’s Neighbor.

“He always seemed like a good guy,” Dave said. Predictable. “He went to church with us every Sunday. He volunteered all the time. He donated to the schools. No one thought that he would do what he did.”

Alex relaxed into Damián’s side, lending some of his warmth that made Damián feel drowsy. Beside and below them, Eve and Leo talked about ordering food. Eve was offering to share her stash of hot chips with Leo. It was sweet. Damián paid attention to them more than he listened to the TV. Leo was asking Eve how spicy she could go, and Eve was boasting about her Taki skills.

But all of a sudden the kids stopped talking and looked at the screen and then at each other. Eve looked back at Alex with wide eyes.

A re-enactment on the TV showed a girl in a haze of lights and music.

“Breanne was drugged at the party and later woke up in the bedroom of James Gailey,” a new woman said. Her credentials said she had been a local police officer. “She reported it to the police as soon as she could, and we set her up with some tests and a rape kit. We asked her who did it, if she could remember anything. And she said it was James Gailey. There was no one else who could have done it.”

“It shocked everyone.” The interview went back to Dave. “We didn’t think of James as that type of man.”

“Can we—“ Damián rubbed the back of his head. “Can we change it?”

Eve grabbed the remote and quickly began scrolling through the family-friendly Halloween section on Netflix. Leo suggested an old Disney movie. It wasn’t something he would ever watch on his own. It didn’t seem like Eve’s cup of tea either. But they were both trying desperately to find something super safe, Damián knew. There were minimal non-consensual scenes in Disney films.

Damián pressed harder into Alex. He widened his hips to knock his leg against Leo.

Alex grabbed his hand. “I wish we could do something,” he whispered. “About that guy. I wish we could report it to someone.”

“I already said just being here with me is enough,” Damián said.

“Sucks that the guy just gets to go on with his life. He gets to go to work on Monday and pretend like he did nothing wrong.”

“There’s nothing we can do. If we want to tell anyone, I’ll have to come clean about the sex work, and then that just gets me in trouble.”

“We could just make the guy’s life miserable,” Eve said.

“Did you know where that guy worked?” Leo asked.

“He was at some blockchain start-up,” Damián said. “He owns it. Or at least that’s what he told me.”

Damián grabbed the arm of his sweater. He’d be okay. He’d be okay. Just talking about the dick wouldn’t bring him back.

“Did he tell you what it was called?” Eve asked, grabbing her laptop.

“No.” Damián was catching on. Eve was going to hunt him down. “But he did say he was an alumnus of Columbia.”

Eve began typing into Google. She sat back and looked at her results. “Okay. So, it turns out there’s a lot of Columbia grads who run crypto start-ups.”

Damián shrugged. “It’s okay. He probably made sure it wasn’t easy to find him.”

But Eve didn’t give up. While Alex turned the movie back on and kept his hand tightly around Damián’s, Damián kept stealing glances at her screen. Leo was on his phone, Googling in circles and falling down rabbit holes of LinkedIn profiles and blockchain websites.

Eve had pulled up every social media site known to man along with Columbia’s alumni page. Her fingers were pounding on her keys. She was opening new tabs and had four separate windows open on her screen at once, each wedged into a corner.

Damián tried focusing on the movie. He tried focusing on Alex’s hand. He tried remembering all of the good things currently in his life.

He had Leo, staying with him through graduate school. He had Alex sitting next to him. He had little Eve right there, too. There were good clients who cared about him—who threatened to admit him to a hospital if he didn’t take care of himself.

He was starting to feel a little hungry, and he felt confident enough to suggest ordering late dinners.

He was going to stay with his new—boyfriend? Partner? Alex. Whatever they were at this point.

But he also kept thinking about what they would do if they did find the guy’s company.

Eve hunched over her laptop and blew up one window to fill the whole screen. Damián squeezed Alex’s hand.

“I think I found him,” Eve said.

She turned her laptop to Damián. Jason was staring at him, his bright blue eyes cutting through the screen. Damián looked away.

“Yeah.” Damián nodded. “That’s him.”

“So, first of all, he doesn’t own the company,” Eve said. She scrolled up on the webpage. “It’s run by this guy. Elias Parkwood. This Jason clown is, like, a step below him, I guess.”

“I’m not surprised he lied,” Leo said. “What does it say about the Elias Parkwood guy?”

Eve scrolled even further up. “That he’s the CEO of the company and is devoted to shaking up the industry. He has links to his email. And I think it’d be a real shame if Elias got an email saying someone saw his employee clearly drugging someone in a bar.”

“Oh no, but that could cost Jason his job,” Leo said, voice dripping with sarcasm. “Especially if you provide his boss with the bar’s contact information to confirm that there were witnesses. Or even, I don’t know, the brother’s contact information as well since he was there, too.”

“Aw, that would definitely be awful. Too bad for Jason.”

Eve tapped away for a few more minutes. Damián bit the inside of his cheek. Alex took his hand with both of his.

“Oh shit.” Eve had found Parkwood on LinkedIn. “He’s a SUNY grad.”

“Shiiiiit,” Leo cheered. “That’s fucking wild. We can use that.”

“Maybe ask Damián permission before you do this?” Alex said. “Maybe?”

Thoughtful. That was the Alex Damián knew.

“Do it,” Damián said. “But don’t get your hopes up. I don’t know how many tech CEOs are morally opposed to attempted sexual assault.”

There was no way of knowing if his boss had morals. He could be close friends with Jason. There was a possibility—like Andrew, Stu, and Martin—that it had been planned in a group.

Damián discreetly took a deep breath through his nose.

Eve opened a new window and opened her school email. “What do I say?”

“Here,” Alex held out his hands. Eve passed her laptop to him. “I send a hundred emails a day. How about we say, ‘Mr. Parkwood, I hope this email finds you well. I am a comp sci student at SUNY. I was out the other night at the Rex Hotel’s bar, and there was a disturbing scene. A man at the bar had drugged his date and was attempting to leave with him. The man was stopped, and his companion was thankfully helped by a few of us bystanders. It has come to my attention that this man was your employee, Jason—whatever his last name is.

“’Jason left the bar without his date. His date was confirmed to be drugged by bar staff, bystanders, and his brother, Leo, who I also attend school with at SUNY.

“‘Leo has provided his contact information below as well as the bar’s contact information and hours of operation.

“‘It is concerning to see a SUNY alumnus have an employee attempt what everyone was sure was—was date rape. I am confident you feel the same as many of my peers are looking for positive role models among alumni in the tech industry.

“‘Thank you for your time, Eve, Class of 2026.’”

Damián fixated on the coffee table. There was an old coffee ring on it, stained deep into the wood. He could probably lift some of it off when vinegar if Alex were to let him. He’d let it sit for a few minutes, and there would be a good chance he could wipe some of it away. He could make it less noticeable, but it wouldn’t all come away. It had had too much time to set, probably. It hadn’t been wiped away as soon as the coffee had spilled onto the wood.

“Damián?”

Alex touched his shoulder. He had light freckles over his face. They were sprinkled over his nose and high up on his cheeks. Damián wondered if they would come out more in the summer.

“Is it okay?” Alex asked.

Damián nodded. “Yeah. It’s good.”

Alex passed the laptop back to Eve. She and Leo added the promised contact information.

“Let’s not think about it anymore tonight,” Damián said. “He’s probably not checking his email this late.”

Everyone agreed. Eve closed her laptop and laid it on the floor.

Alex turned to Damián. Their faces were almost touching.

And then, slowly but with no hesitance, Alex closed the space between them with a kiss. It was good. It didn’t heal Damián, but it made him feel good. Better. Loved.

There was a dull but forceful thud to the side of his head. He pulled away and looked around for the source.

“What the fuck, Eve?” Alex leaned forward to glare at his sister.

Eve was holding a throw pillow and glaring back. “You can’t make out on the couch I sleep on.”

Damián rubbed his ear. Leo joined in, complaining to Damián that it was gross to watch them kiss.

“Are you a child?” Damián asked Leo. “You can’t watch adults kiss? Do I need to put parental locks on your computer?”

“Alex, I’m telling mom and dad you were making out in front of me—“

“Eve, I’m 33. You can’t tattle on me for kissing a boy.”

Their voices all overlapped, their arguments rising and shifting in new directions.

Damián quickly found Leo’s pout adorable and switched to cooing, leaning forward to Leo on the floor. He pinched Leo’s cheeks and asked if he was feeling forgotten, if Damián just needed to pay more attention to him. He began baby-talking him in Spanish just like their grandmother had done even into their teens. Leo continued to complain about the kissing, and then about the “abuelita treatment,” and then about the quick pecks Damián was pressing into his cheeks and forehead. But Leo didn’t shove him away or move. He grimaced and fussed but stayed put.

Eve, meanwhile, had reached across Damián and was trying to pull Alex’s hand closer to her mouth to bite him. Alex’s voice was getting frantic as he tried yanking his arm away.

When Damián noticed, he tried breaking them up. Leo began chanting in favor of Eve to bite. One of Damián’s hands was trying to calm him while the other tried releasing Alex from Eve’s grip. She was surprisingly strong, and Damián had to re-adjust to try to pull her entire body away.

The commotion continued to rise. The comfortable warmth Damián had felt before was now sweltering heat from exertion and three people wrestling. Their voices were raising until a neighbor began pounding on the adjoining wall and their shouts turned to laughter.

The movie ended without any of them noticing.

[riddle-me-ri]

Ok, you remember Fem Therapist ask I send you?

....

Can you write smut with Arkham Riddler having sex with her doing their 'sessions'?

A/N: oh..oh god it’s happening..uhh..um…this is my first smut with arkhamverse riddler…I’m terrified, but I hope I did okay and made grand master @finniestoncrane proud asdfghjkjj I’m gonna go cry in the corner now also so sorry about the ending, I had no idea how to end it rip

Trigger Warnings: 18+ ONLY Minors DNI! Explicit sexual content; vaginal sex with AFAB reader, handjob, unprotected sex, inappropriate relationship between psychiatrist and patient (don’t get freaky with your psychiatrists pls), and strong language

Word Count: 1.9 k

Arkhamverse Riddler x Psychiatrist F!Reader - Special Assistance

You couldn’t show too much concern, too much hurt, or they’ll know. The officers and doctors will be made suspicious of your forbidden liaison with one of Batman’s most nefarious rogues; The Riddler.

Edward Nygma, Jervis Tetch, Pamela Isley, and even Waylon Jones were shipped back to Arkham last night after a successful getaway almost a month prior. 

You were walking down to your office. You looked through your clipboard and saw the patients you were due to see. Each profile had a small polaroid mugshot of the patient. You paused at Ed’s. You ran your thumb along the side of his face, something you hope you get the chance to do for real soon enough. 

~~~~~~~

Edward Nygma was as tense as stretched out rope about to split in the middle.

Batman cheated, again…which is why Edward lost…again.

At least he got to see you though, the only decent thing about the asylum. He had to put a hand across his mouth to hide the slight upturn in the corner of his lips. He couldn’t wait for the guards to come and bring him to your office. 

~~~~~~~~~~~

The minute the doors to your office closed, you still had to keep yourself from throwing yourself at him. You double checked the cameras to ensure they were off. You went to the door, and listened to make sure the guards footsteps fell off in the distance.

“Stupid. I don’t know why they bother with these weak, cheap, so simple a child could break out of them-” Edward was fumbling with the handcuffs the guards insisted he keep on.

“I don’t know…they can be fun sometimes…”

“Well, I suppose, a little brain teaser to…oh…oh I see what you mean.” His cheeks dusted pink at your insinuation. 

The handcuffs clanked to the floor. You walked over and tossed them onto your desk. Before Ed could stand up from the chair, you got on your knees in front of him. 

“Eddie…w-what happened?” You reached out, to finally get to cup his cheek, but he pushed it away. 

“Don’t ask stupid questions, you know what happened.” He snipped. 

You did know and just like you knew that, you also knew Edward was going to tell you anyway.

“The World’s Greatest Detective found me! He completely overlooked the very obvious riddles I had laid out for him. They were meant to sent him on a goose chase around the city, while I get away with my heist! But no, he found me before I could even break into the building!” 

You saw his bony hands clench tighter and tighter, the knuckles a stark white. You put your hands over his. He was getting wound up, but you usually knew how to wind him back down. 

He jumped at your touch, his hands did relax slightly. He didn’t tighten them around yours, but you were content with just holding them. 

“So that means he doesn’t know about your final plan. You can use that to your advantage. You’ll just have to get more creative with it.” You began rubbing your thumb along the knuckles of his limp hands. 

His shoulders start slumping, his spine relaxing into the cushion of the seat. “He-he doesn’t know…”

“He just got lucky, he found you when he was on the hunt for the others.”

“Tetch and his ludicrous outbursts…” His hands tightened around yours. Both men with a fondness for wordplay and brain power so happened to be at the same museum when Batman was hunting down Mad Hatter.

You nodded. “They are ludicrous, nonsensical. Not like you, Eddie…” One of your hands goes from holding his hand to slowly snaking up his arm. You placed your hand on his chest, it dug under the atrocious orange jumpsuit to meet his skin. 

His heart was running rapid, probably from underlining frustration. You were going to change that. You hand crawled further up, attempting to stroke his face again. This time he doesn’t stop you. 

“You’re brilliant, the most brilliant man I’ve ever known and will know. It’s a shame that you’re often grouped up with these highly inferior to you.” Your thumb strokes his cheek, thankful to be touching flesh instead of a plastic polaroid. 

He grumbled, “it…it is…infuriating.”

“I can’t begin to imagine.” You scooted closer to him. Your knees started going numb from putting your weight on them for so long, but you didn’t care.

You were going to be in his lap very soon.

Both of your hands were on his torso now, crawling under his shirt to his cold skin that you were slowly warming up. 

“Let me help you, Eddie…like I always do…I want to help you relax, get you in the proper head space so you can escape this hell hole.” You grinned.

He couldn’t help but grin back, “are you helping me as my psychiatrist or as my…partner?” 

“Whoever you want me to be, whatever you want me to do.”

His green eyes glossed over at that.

You knew that the only thing that turned him on more other than absolutely stroking his ego, was allowing him complete control. Your hands went down unzipping the upper part of the jumpsuit, before meeting the belt. Your hands made quick work of the belt and continued to unzip him. 

“You still want me to continue, Eddie?” You’re used to him going rather quiet when things get intimate at first. You still wanted confirmation that this was completely mutual, even if the obvious bulge in his underwear was evident.

“Y-yes, p-please.”

You felt your walls clench as you started damping your underwear. He was absolutely delicious like this. A world-renowned supervillain with a genius-level intellect and proven adversary to Batman, was almost in tears at his need for your touch, to relieve him. 

You took a quick glance at your clock. There was still a little over an hour left, you had enough time, but you also couldn’t afford to lose anymore. 

Your hand went down his underwear and immediately started slowly pumping his cock. He hisses at your quick motion, but they turn into moans as his hips thrust in time with your strokes. 

You lean in closer to him, your face beside his as you whispered, “I’m sorry, darling. We’re still on a time crunch.” You kiss his cheek as he nodded. You lean back to face him and kiss him on his lips. 

The kiss turns passionate as you creep your tongue inbetween his lips, seeking a dance with his own. Edward moans into your mouth, whether its from the kiss or your slightly quickened thrusts, or both you weren’t sure. You caught his tongue between your teeth as you lightly scraped your teeth along it as you pulled back from the kiss. The action left Ed mewling. 

You planted one more chaste kiss on his lips, before you finally got up from your knees. You remove your panties from under your skirt and toss them behind your desk. You straddle his lap and his arms instinctively go around your waist. You grab his cock and dragged the head along your folds, collecting the slick and rubbing it on his dick. 

You lean down to kiss him again as you sat fully on his cock. You muffled your cry and his groans in the kiss. Your walls instantly welcomed him in despite the rough intrusion, as they craved more friction. You wrapped your arms around his neck and began setting a steady pace. 

Your moans and his shaky gasps and groans were mingling together, as the two of you looked at each other. Before Ed leaned his head back with his eyes closed, he groaned again as you clamped around him again like a vice. You couldn’t resist the opportunity of more open skin, you wish you could lay claim onto his warm skin, but that would be too obvious. 

You settled for kissing and softly suckling along his neck and collarbone, anything to get to hear his noises closer to your ears. 

The chair started to groan on it’s own at the combined weight of both of you and your incessant bouncing on Edward’s cock. He fit you perfectly, just thick enough to stretch you and long enough to poke at the edge of your cervix, which is where you were wanting the tip to hit with every thrust you made. 

You glanced back up at the clock, there was a little over thirty minutes before the guards will come knocking on the door. 

“E-Eddie…w-we…mmm.” His hands began to knead your breast through your blouse and bra. “W-We don’t have much time left.”

Edward let out a low growl in frustration, which caused your walls to clench up again around his member. He leaned up, switching his hands back down to your waist to hold you, as he began bucking into you in time with your thrusts. 

You had to cover your mouth to hush the scream that almost ripped out of you. He went faster and harder than you had previously, and you tried to meet his pace. 

“S-so close, Eddie…please…” you whispered breathlessly in his ear. Your hands went down his shirt, trying to find purchase along his back. It was so tempting to leave scratch marks. You do end up accidentally scratching him when his thumb starts rubbing harsh small circles along your clit. 

“S-Shit sorry,” you gasp. You can feel the knot in your gut tightening, your legs about to quake in a wave of shakes. “F-Fuck, please Eddie!”

You bounced as fast as you could to meet in tandem with his thrust, his tip hitting exactly where you wanted for the last several thrusts. Your walls tightened around him again, absolutely choking his dick. 

“I-I’m going to-” “-In me, please, baby don’t stop.” You almost didn’t care about getting caught at this point all that mattered was you both cumming. 

The seering knot in your cut tensed and wounded up tighter and tighter until it finally unraveled in a pleasurable pop. As you felt his seed lay claim to your insides, your skin was revitalized in blissful shivers. Your limbs going sweetly numb in their wake. 

Ed laid his head on your chest, heaving for air, but his body was limp and lax than before he got there. You ran your hand through his hair before you kissed the top of his head.

You didn’t have much time to enjoy the afterglow. You quickly caught off Edward’s lap and began setting the scene that looked like anything happened but you two fucking. Edward zipped up his jumpsuit and put on his belt. 

You tossed him the handcuffs and they richoeted off his torso and onto the floor. 

“Ed!” You hissed. 

He rolled his eyes, but reluctantly clicked them back on. 

~~~~~

“I see Nygma didn’t bend your ears too badly, Dr. L/N.” One of the guards, Bill commented to you, while the other guard tended to Ed.

You chuckled. “Maybe a little, but that’s what they’re here for. Isn’t that right, Mr. Nygma?”

Ed scoffed. “Oh, please, you should be grateful I even speak to you. Giving you such intimate access to the inner workings of my intellect!” 

You had to bite your tongue to keep from saying your initial remark. That’s not the only intimacy I have access to. 

You and Edward knew that and lavished on the idea of getting away with it.

[euryalex]

WIP Wednesday (Wednesday edition)

Thank you to the lovely @direwombat for tagging me!

Tagging: @xbaebsae @cobb-vanthss @detectivelokis @poisonedtruth @fadedjacket @captastra and anyone else who wants to share a WIP!

Finally making progress on Chapter 4 of Genesis! Evie officially has a criminal record now yaaay ^-^

Joey had hoped to avoid the night shift workers when she arrived early for work the next morning. Sadly, she wasn’t that lucky.

“You’re early,” Andy noted as she entered the West Office. Four pairs of eyes stared right at her.

“Um, yeah,” she stammered, “Wanted to make sure I sorted a record from yesterday correctly. I think I forgot to write something down.”

“Hudson, you are too dedicated to the job,” he chuckled, returning to his newspaper.

Joey laughed nervously and walked past him to get to the records room. The picture of Stephen McDaniel and his daughter still plagued her since last night.

If Kevin noticed Joey’s sudden silence, he didn’t mention it, which Joey was grateful for. She still couldn’t believe her eyes. Evelyn McDaniel, her friend from high school was in Raccoon City, looking for her father – what were the odds?

“You knew him?” Kevin asked, breaking the silence.

Joey faced him and shrugged, “He uh… He’s from Great Falls. I went to high school with his daughter.”

He snorted, “Damn, was she as annoying back then as she is now?”

She frowned at his words, as if the teenager she used to be wanted to jump in and defend her friend. “What do you mean, ‘annoying’?” she eventually asked.

“Pft, she’d do all sorts of things, even tried to find evidence on her own,” Kevin huffed, “But there was just no evidence he was gone. All his neighbors claimed they saw him on the days we went to question them. After a while, we stopped trying. I guess she did too, since she hasn’t been around for a while.”

“Do you know what happened to her?”

“No clue. Something happened between her and Irons though. That was right before she stopped coming over.”

Just as she was about to ask more questions, Kevin pulled over and she noticed he parked right in front of her apartment building.

“Thanks for dropping me off,” she said quickly, jumping out of his car before he could say anything.

Evelyn McDaniel, her best friend through high school, her first crush was in Raccoon City, and apparently, so was her dad. Joey and Evelyn didn’t keep in touch with each other when Evelyn moved to Helena. That wasn’t long after her mother disappeared, which caused her father to quit. Joey knew Sheriff Whitehorse would visit him from time to time, until he suddenly announced that Stephen McDaniel had moved.

While no one saw it coming, no one really blamed him either. Somewhere, Joey understood why Evelyn would follow him, but that didn’t explain why he went missing. She knew that, as someone close to the case, she would never be allowed to investigate, but what Irons didn’t know wouldn’t hurt him.

While she didn’t find any record on Stephen, Evelyn had a file in the Records room. It wasn’t necessarily big, unlike other files, but there were some reports.

“Case Number: 769313     Date: 05/16/1998

Ms. McDaniel entered the Raccoon Police Department at 1015hrs, visibly agitated. She demanded to see Police Chief Irons. Despite being told that was not possible, she kept trying to the point where Police Chief Irons himself heard and came down.

She showed him a file (See E1) and ordered Police Chief Irons to take her father’s so-called disappearance seriously, which he refused. When he physically tried to turn her away, she grew hysterical and punched Police Chief Irons in the face. After this, she was taken into custody.”

Attached to the back of the file, with a paperclip, was a mugshot. It had only been a few years since Joey last saw Evelyn, but she’d recognize that pretty face anywhere. While there was anger in Evelyn’s eyes, Joey noticed how tired she looked. She looked exhausted. Her once warm skin looked pale like she hadn’t slept in days.

Joey glanced back to the date – Over a month ago, now. Maybe Evelyn was still in the city.

She flipped through the rest of the file, which wasn’t much to begin with, but didn’t find any last known address. At least, not one that belonged to Evelyn. Instead, she found a report from the officer visiting Stephen’s home – at 5 French Street, on the outskirts of the city.

 She needed access to the database on a computer for Evelyn’s address, but the only one she knew of was in the main hall where anyone could walk in. It was a risk she didn’t want to take, but she didn’t have much of a choice.

Luckily, the main hall was largely empty, and the front desk was left unmanned, which Joey found weird, but she didn’t want to question her luck.

She rushed over to the laptop, which was left off. Her foot tapping anxiously against the floor, she impatiently waited as it booted up. Once it did, she logged in and opened the database. After only typing a few letters, Evelyn’s name popped up already.

“Name: McDaniel, Evelyn              Date of birth: 02/21/1970 Street number and name: 20 Fox Street        Apartment unit: 301 City and state zip code: Raccoon City, 62039 Illinois       Country: United States of America”

Joey turned around to the desk and quickly picked up a pen and notepad to write down the address. She folded the paper and stuffed it in her pockets. As she began closing the database, the door of the West Office opened and one of the officers was leaving. Luckily, he hadn’t seen a thing.

[bisexualbumblebee-writes]

Vandalism Cleanup- Steve Harrington x OC

Steve Harrington x Ella Warner

Description: Ella, who works at the movie theater, confronts Steve and Tommy at the same time as Nancy and Jonathan. Things don’t end well that day but an unexpected silver lining comes the next day. 

Word Count: 2.3k

Ella sighed heavily as she made her way to the movie theater. She’d always hated being the one to open, especially on the weekends. Too many people talked too much and asked for too much even when the staff wasn’t ready. Besides, she was the first one there and it would be another hour or so before the rest of the staff began to show up and she wasn’t the most comfortable with that. What if something happened?

Unfortunately, that possibility became a reality when she pulled into the parking lot and noticed something different about the sign in front of the building. Her eyes widened when she realized that it had been vandalized. The names of the movies that were going to be playing that day were now covered with ‘Starring Nancy “The Slut” Wheeler’ written in red spray paint. 

She jumped out of her car, still staring at the sign in shock. Oh god, how was she going to explain this to her boss? This was going to take forever to-

Ella paused when she heard voices yelling in the alley beside the theater, and she went to investigate. Honestly, she wasn’t surprised to see Tommy Hagan, Carol Perkins, Nicole Anderson and Steve Harrington. However, she was surprised to see Nancy Wheeler and Jonathan Byers. 

“What the hell are you guys doing?” She exclaimed, marching over to them. The group turned to face her, then Tommy spoke. 

“Well, well, well, if it isn’t the freak’s other crazy girlfriend.” His words earned a rather annoying giggle from both Carol and Nicole. 

“Very original, Tommy, really,” she retorted sarcastically. “Come up with that one on your own?” 

“Ella, what are you doing here?” Jonathan asked with a sigh. 

“Uh, I work here?” The girl answered as if it were obvious. “The real question is what the hell are you guys doing and who’s gonna pay for the damage to that sign?” Tommy, Nicole and Carol ooh-ed. 

“Well isn’t she feisty?” Carol snickered. 

“Yeah keep laughing, maybe you’ll actually have a nice mugshot when you’re arrested for vandalism.” Ella had absolutely no idea where that confidence had come from but she knew it probably wouldn’t last very long. 

“Oh, come on. We’re just making an announcement warning Hawkins about Nancy’s little habits,” Tommy spoke easily, crossing his arms. 

“For the last time, we didn’t sleep together,” Nancy snapped. “We were just-” 

“Just what?” Steve cut her off tensely. “Finish that sentence.” Nancy’s mouth clamped shut. She refused to answer, which made Steve scoff. 

“Go to hell, Nancy.” The girl looked like she wanted to say something else, but stopped when Jonathan grabbed her hand. 

“Come on, Nancy, let’s just leave.” Ella stepped to the side as the duo turned to leave, then she looked at Steve when he spoke. 

“You know what, Byers? I'm actually kind of impressed. I always took you for a queer, but I guess you're just a little screw-up like your father.” Jonathan and Nancy froze, and Ella’s eyes widened. Oh, this would not end well. 

“Oh, yeah, yeah, yeah, yeah,” Steve continued with a menacing grin. “Yeah, that house is full of screw-ups.”

“Steve, stop talking,” Ella warned, but Carol just told her to shut up as Steve continued to talk. 

“You know, I guess I shouldn't really be surprised. A bunch of screw-ups in your family.” 

“Jonathan, leave it,” Nancy muttered cautiously.  

“I mean, your mom... I'm not even surprised what happened to your brother.” 

“Steve, shut up!” Both Ella and Nancy yelled at the same time. 

“I'm sorry I have to be the one to tell you,” the boy spoke as he walked closer to Jonathan, pushing his shoulder. “But the Byers, their family, it's a disgrace to the entire-”

Steve was suddenly cut off by Jonathan whipping around and decking him straight in the face. While the boy groaned in pain, everyone stared at Jonathan in shock. Unfortunately Steve was quick to recover and he threw a punch back at the boy. A massive fight ensued that ended up getting Tommy involved while Nancy and Ella tried to separate them. The latter attempted to grab Tommy’s arm but quickly let go when he suddenly elbowed her in the face, nailing her in the lip. She cried out in pain and backed away, hand covering her lip. That only made Jonathan more angry and he delivered a punch to Tommy’s gut, yelling at him not to touch her. 

Ella leaned against the brick wall in pain as sirens were suddenly heard coming closer to the group. Tommy yelled that the cops were there and he attempted to pull his friend away from the fight. Unfortunately the older Byers wasn’t backing down and he continued to beat Steve until the police officers got out of their car and ran over. Officer Callahan grabbed Jonathan, which in turn made the boy wheel around and punch him. 

“Oh! My nose!” He exclaimed painfully, grabbing his nose. Steve, Tommy, Carol and Nicole took that time to run away from the fight. Officer Powell attempted to run after them until they hopped into Steve’s car and peeled out of the theater’s parking lot. Meanwhile, Jonathan was put in the back of the police car by Callahan, Nancy willingly following behind him, as the theater’s owner, Otto, showed up. 

“Ella, are you okay?” He asked worriedly, taking the girl’s face in his hands to examine her now bleeding lip. If it were any other man doing that she would have slapped them into the next century. But Otto wasn’t doing it in a creepy way, he did it in a paternal way, like a father would do to his child. 

“I’m fine,” Ella brushed off, watching Steve’s car get smaller and smaller until it was out of sight with a sigh. 

Ella ended up having to give a statement to the police down at the station with Otto before she was allowed to go home. Otto had graciously given her the rest of the day off so she could care for her busted lip. Thankfully it was only that and nothing else, so she was able to go to work the next day. 

It was a Sunday, which meant it was a restock day. Those days were the easiest, so she was happy to come in. Her first and (likely) only task of the day was to try and scrub the spray paint off the sign. Her coworker Henry had managed to get a bit off, but it wasn’t much. After clocking in, Ella grabbed a rag and climbed up the ladder, beginning to scrub at the sign. 

That’s what she had been doing when she heard a car enter the parking lot. She didn’t pay attention to it, thinking that it was probably just another coworker or something. That quickly changed when a car door opened then closed and a voice called out to her. 

“Excuse me?” Ella’s jaw clenched and she paused, gripping the rag tighter. Steve Harrington. Just her luck. For a moment she considered ignoring him, but then she realized that he was now walking over to her. 

“Mr. Jackson said that if you come within a hundred feet I’m legally allowed to call the cops,” she informed him, still not facing him as she continued her work. And sure, that wasn’t exactly true, but she didn’t think Otto would be too upset if she did. After all, it was because of Steve that she now had a split lip. 

“I’m not here to start anything,” the boy said quickly. 

“Then why are you here, Harrington?” She snapped, still refusing to face him. 

“I want to apologize.” His response made her freeze, then she finally moved to look down at him. Her eyebrows shot up when she examined him. He looked awful, a busted lip to match hers and a black eye painted his face. She came to her senses just a second later.

“Wait, what?” She watched as Steve’s eyes widened upon looking at her lip. 

“Holy shit, is that from yesterday?”

“Well I don’t make it a habit to get into fights, so yes,” Ella retorted sarcastically as she descended the ladder, stopping right in front of him. For a moment he continued to just stare at her, which made her gesture at him. 

“You wanted to apologize,” she urged impatiently. “Did you want me to go get Mr. Jackson, or-”

“Uh, no. The apology is to you,” Steve answered awkwardly. “I, um… I’m sorry for yesterday. You know, with Tommy spray painting the sign and the building. Then you had to break up my fight with Jonathan and you got hurt. I’m sorry for all of it.” Ella couldn’t hide her surprise. She didn’t think she’d ever hear Steve Harrington genuinely apologize for something, especially to her. 

“It’s whatever,” she brushed off, but the boy only shook his head. 

“It’s not,” he shot back softly. “And I wanted to try and make it up to you and Mr. Jackson for all the trouble.”

“How?” The girl tilted her head curiously. She watched his eyes flicker up to the sign, then he gestured to it. 

“I can start with helping you clean the sign,” he offered. Ella sighed softly as she thought over her options. Either spend the whole day working on the sign, or split the work in half with the guy who caused it and get it done quicker. The answer seemed pretty obvious. 

“Alright,” she shrugged. “You wanna hold the ladder or scrub the sign?” 

“I’ll try scrubbing,” he answered, gingerly taking the rag from her and ascending the ladder. Ella moved to hold the ladder so it wouldn’t shake as he began scrubbing at the spray paint. 

It took them most of the day to finally scrub away any traces of red paint. They switched places every half hour or so when the scrubber grew tired. In between working they found themselves talking. They talked about nothing in particular, switching topics more often than not. In the end they learned quite a bit about each other. Ella learned a bit about Steve’s parents and in return she told him about hers. They discussed what they liked or didn’t, and what they didn’t really have feelings about. The sun was finally beginning to set when they finished. Ella climbed down the ladder, Steve helping her off of it once she reached the bottom as Otto and Henry walked out to put it back inside. The owner paused upon seeing Steve, then continued on when Ella shot him a reassuring look. 

“Well, I should probably go clock out so I can start heading home. It’s a long walk to Jefferson Drive,” the girl spoke once the boys were back inside. Steve’s brows furrowed as he faced her. 

“Walk? Don’t you have a car though?” He questioned confusedly. Ella shrugged with a small sigh. 

“It broke down on me this morning. I had to call a tow truck and get it into a shop. Mechanic says it’ll probably take a few days, and it’s too late to bother anyone for a ride so it looks like I’m walking,” she explained with a strained grin. “You should probably head home, it’s gonna be dark soon. Thanks for all your help today, Steve.” 

“It’s the least I can do,” the boy answered smoothly. Ella offered him a more genuine smile then nodded, figuring that was the end of it as she walked inside to say her goodbyes and clock out. She was surprised when she walked out and saw Steve leaning against his car, which was now right in front of the theater, trying to look casual. 

“Is everything okay?” She asked confusedly. 

“Yeah, just thought I could give you a ride home,” he answered with a shrug. “What do you say?” 

“You really don’t have to do that Steve,” Ella said quickly. “I wasn’t telling you that to get a free ride out of you.”

“I didn’t take it that way,” the boy laughed. “I’m just trying to be nice. Despite what you may think, I actually do that sometimes.” Ella rolled her eyes playfully at that, which made him chuckle. 

“Besides, it’s getting dark, like you said. I can’t let you walk home alone in the dark in good conscience, so,” he trailed off, moving to open the passenger door for her. She couldn’t hide her grin nor her blush at the action. She climbed in, closing her door as Steve hopped into the driver’s side. 

“You said you lived on Jefferson Drive, right?” He asked as he pulled out of the driveway, a stark contrast to what happened yesterday. The girl nodded then told him her address, to which he nodded as he began driving. 

Rather than sit awkwardly in silence like she expected, their conversation(s) from earlier just continued as if they hadn’t stopped. Like earlier, the topics varied and switched multiple times. What movies would be playing this week, the quiz in English, how the basketball season was going, etc. Ella hadn’t even realized that they were near her house until Steve pulled into her driveway. Much to her surprise, as soon as Steve parked, he got out. She watched him jog around the car and open the door for her again. Her earlier blush returned as she took his outstretched hand and got out. 

“I don’t know how I can thank you for the ride,” she said genuinely. “I uh… The best I can offer is some gas money.” 

“I don’t want your money. Knowing that you got home safe is good enough for me,” he answered immediately, waving a dismissive hand. Ella’s blush deepened and she nodded. 

“Alright. So, I’ll see you around?” Steve nodded with a small smile. 

“Yeah, see you.” She offered him one last smile then walked up to her front door, stepping inside. Once the door closed she looked out the peephole and watched Steve get in his car and drive off. She hadn’t even realized that she was smiling until she felt her cheeks begin to hurt. Ella had no idea what happened between yesterday and today, but she was glad it did because now she was seeing Steve in a new light.

[fanficimagery]

Miss Knowles, Secret Agent pt. 1

After years of not being in contact with your sister, you seek her out and hope all can be forgiven. Of course, when things are going well, your past comes waltzing into Charming.

PART ONE | PART TWO

Words: 7.1K  Author's Note: SOA!AU because that's how I roll. I love Gemma to an extent, but I don't want to write her or Clay. So for this, Jackie-boy is President of the MC.

Charming, California is.. not quite as charming as you had expected. It's a quaint little town and all, but it's not a place you pictured your sister living in. Yet here you are, being dropped off down the street from where the address you had found for your sister said she resided.

Hoisting the strap of your duffel bag higher onto your shoulder, you take off down the street. Her house is easily found- single story, painted off-white with blue shutters and green bushes lining the front windows. There's a single car and a motorcycle in the driveway, and you allow yourself a moment to cheer on your sister for hooking up with a biker. All the research you did on Tara led you down the rabbit hole that consisted of a MC called the Sons of Anarchy, and well.. you were impressed. You knew your sister had a bit of grit about her, but you didn't think she had that much to associate with people like the Sons. But oh well. You weren't here to judge.

As you walk up to the front door, you hesitate briefly before knocking. It's been years since you've last seen Tara- the last time being when you were still a teen- and you have no idea what this reunion is going to be like. You hoped for the best, but you knew there was a chance she'd be truly pissed at you for falling off the face of the Earth.

Taking a deep breath, you allow your knuckles to rap against the wooden door and then take a couple of steps back. Seconds slowly tick by before the door is being pulled open and you swallow at the sight of Jax Teller. Oh yeah, his mugshot did him no justice. Your sister was one lucky bitch. "Can I help you?" He asks, raising an eyebrow at you.

"I, uh, yeah. I hope," you say as you obviously look him up and down. He grins at your stammering. And possibly at your ogling. "I'm looking for Tara."

His grin falters. "What's your business with Tara?"

You exhale softly and meet his gaze. "I'm her sister."

"Bullshit."

You snort and then immediately wince at your reaction. Jax is not impressed. "I am. Ask her. I've just been kind of.. off grid."

You're trying to make yourself appear as non-threatening as possible and you feel you must have hit the nail on the head because he leans back into the house and calls out, "Tara?", over his shoulder.

When he stares back at you, you cross your arms over your chest and glance down, scuffing the toe of your shoe on the porch.

"Yeah, babe?" You glance back up at her voice, biting the inside of your cheek in worry when you lay eyes on her in the flesh. Her gaze darts from her husband to you, giving you a double take as she stumbles to a halt. "YN?"

You smile uneasily as Jax glances between the two of you. "Hiya, sis."

She stumbles forward, catching herself on her husband's arm. "I thought you were dead. No one could-"

"I'm sorry," you blurt. "I never meant to-" Your voice cracks and you pause, shaking your head as if that would clear away your emotions as you glance at your feet once more. You take a beat and then swallow down the lump in your throat. "I just- I needed to see you," you say while looking up once more. "To let you know that I was alive."

"Y-You're leaving?"

"If you w-want me to. I'm sure you're pissed-"

"No!" You blink in surprise at Tara as she stumbles out of the house, onto the porch and reaches for you. Her hands cradle your face and you hate that your eyes sting at the kind gesture. "Are you kidding? You're alive. You're here. I want to know everything."

You chuckle and reach up to wipe away a falling tear. "I can't tell you everything, but I will tell you what I can."

"What does that even- no, you know what? We'll talk inside," she says. Tara ushers you inside her house and you smile faintly at Jax who's keeping a close eye on you. She leads you to the kitchen and you set your duffel bag down on the floor by your feet as you take a seat at the table. "Do you want anything to drink?"

"I'm good. Thanks though," you tell her. As she and Jax take a seat across from you at the table, you can't help but smile when Jax reaches into the back waistband of his jeans and pulls out a gun that he lays on the table.

"Jesus Christ, Jax!" Tara jerks away from the table. "What the hell are you doing?!"

"It's fine, Tara-"

"No, it's not fine!" She yells, glaring at you and then at her husband.

"It wouldn't be the first time I've been threatened with a gun. It's fine," you assure her.

That stops your sister short and she glances at you in surprise. "What?"

You shrug and clasp your hands atop the table. "What does Jax know of me?"

"Not a goddamn thing," he says. He scoffs when Tara has the audacity to look ashamed. "I've known Tara my entire life and not once did she mention anything about a sister."

"That's fair." Taking a deep breath, you decide to explain your relationship to Tara so her husband can understand, and then explain a bit about why you've been off grid. "So, uh, Tara and I share the same shitty dad. My mom had me when Tara would've been ten and then fled with me to the East coast."

"I only knew a bit about her," Tara says softly. "Couple of letters here and there every year, and then we finally met up when I left after graduation."

You smile at the memory. "Before anything else is said, can I just say how happy I am that you two found your way back to each other?" Jax frowns at you, so you explain. "Tara was really heartbroken when she left. Kept moaning on and on about some boy named Jax."

Jax's stern expression quickly morphs into one of amusement as he glances at Tara and she rolls her eyes at him. "Whatever. We're not talking about me. We're talking about YN."

"Right." Your amusement fades. "Anyway, I ended up in New York."

"I remember that," Tara says. "Nursing program, right?"

"Yeah. I was doing good there too," you say, "and then one day I just- I found myself in a rough spot," you admit, vaguely telling them the truth. "I struggled for a while and it ended up with some people getting hurt."

"Jesus," Tara mumbles. "Why didn't you ask for help?"

You shrug as your eyes fill with tears. "It was bad, Tara. Really bad."

"What happened?"

"I can't- I literally can't say," you tell them. "NDA's were involved."

Jax sits a little straighter. "What the fuck?"

"But it's okay now. It's all fine," you're quick to assure them. "Some people took me in and helped me get back on track."

"Who?"

You slowly smile as you sniffle. "You wouldn't believe me if I told you."

"Try me," Jax muses. Tara's gaze darts between you and him like she's watching a tennis match.

"Avengers." Jax barks out a laugh of disbelief, but you merely raise an eyebrow at him. "I'm being serious. That's why NDA's were involved," you tell him. "Some shit went down and they got me out of trouble. Tony Stark even offered me a job to keep me out of trouble."

"A job in what?" Your sister asks.

"Assistant nurse on the medical wing. I eventually became trusted enough that they let me on other levels of the tower and got to help out in the science department, just being a gopher for them since I didn't understand anything they were working on."

"You worked alongside the Avengers and you left all that to come to Charming?" Jax asks. "Why?"

You shrug. "It gets tiresome when the building is under attack every other week, not to mention the extraterrestrial visitors. I needed some normalcy back in my life."

"Well Charming is pretty normal."

Suddenly the sound of a child crying out pierces the quiet of the house and Tara immediately gets up. You smile as she rushes away and Jax says, "That's Abel. He's my son, but Tara really stepped up when I needed it. He only knows your sister as his mother."

"That's one lucky kid," you muse. "Tara's the best."

"Yeah she is." Jax slowly smiles and you chuckle at his lovestruck expression.

You and Jax fall into a comfortable silence in your sister's absence, and then a handful of minutes later she's returning. "Sorry about that. Abel got a bit fussy, but he's asleep again."

"That's fine," you tell her. "I should actually get going anyway. I need to grab a motel room."

"What? No way," Tara says. "We have a perfectly good couch you could-"

"I appreciate that, I really do," you say, cutting her off. "But you and Jax have a lot to think about."

"Think about?" She frowns. "What would we have to think about?"

"About whether or not you guys want me here in town."

Jax tenses. "Why wouldn't we?"

You sigh and tell him. "Full disclosure here, when I looked up my sister I found out a lot of shit."

He leans forward in his seat, hand next to his gun. Tara sees it, worriedly glancing between the two of you. "Shit like what?"

"I think you know. Tara's files were connected to everything that mentioned the Sons of Anarchy, so I did a little digging to see what I was walking into. Rest assured though," you say when a look of fury passes over his features, "that everything I found out, I scrubbed from my laptop. I don't care what you guys or the club has done in the past or will do in the future. I'm honestly just here to make up for lost time with my sister." Tara's surprised expression is more acceptable than Jax's curious one. "So.. you guys think about it and if you're not comfortable with me being here, I'll leave."

A strangled noise escapes from Tara's throat, but she snaps her mouth shut. Jax glances at her, holds her gaze, and then sighs. "You swear nothing you were involved in will blow back on my family or club?"

"I'm not runnin' from anyone," you assure him. "I didn't do anything to piss anyone off, nor is anyone looking for me. I honestly just got tired of all the hustle and bustle of New York, and being friends with Avengers. I just want to get to know my family."

Jax sighs and rubs a hand down his face. "Fine. You're on probation though."

"Jax-"

"No, Tara. Until we can trust YN, your interactions are all going to held at the clubhouse. And if you want to go out, you're gonna have escorts."

"Jesus-"

"That's fine." You smile at your clearly agitated sister. You cut her off before she can tell her husband anything. "Really, it's fine. I know some shit I'm not supposed to and they want to keep an eye on me to make sure I don't rat. I'm okay with that." The fight drains out of your sister. "So now that we've established that, I really have to go. Do you have a pen and paper so I can leave you guys my number?"

Tara gets up and goes to a drawer, getting exactly what you asked for. You write your number down for them, and then she writes down hers and Jax's.

"Do you have cash for a motel room?" Tara asks.

"Yeah. Stark Industries paid really well. I'm all set."

"Well okay then."

An awkward silence falls over the three of you and you nervously chuckle. "So I'm gonna go."

As you stand up, Jax and Tara follow suit. On your way outside, you make a phone call to the local cab company and then stop on the porch to face your sister. "Call or text me when you're free, yeah?"

"Of course." Tara stares at you for a moment before she pulls you into a hug and you laugh as you wrap your arms around her. "I'm so glad you came looking for me."

"Ditto. I've missed you." A car out by the curb honks and you sigh. "And that's my cue. See you."

"See you."

When Tara calls you on your second day in Charming, she picks you up from the motel room and heads over to Teller-Morrow Automotive. She explains that the building attached to the automotive garage is the clubhouse for the Sons of Anarchy, and since Jax was wary of you then that's where the two of you had to hang out.

When you popped up on their property for the first time, Jax introduced you to his brothers. You could tell he told them that you knew some stuff about them, but no one dared threaten you.

You and Tara got to catch up out by the picnic tables, she telling you all about her career path and you yours. She tries to get some more information about the rough patch you went through, but you only gave her vague answers. Eventually, one of the Sons who went by the name Juice joined you and you couldn't help but feel he had ulterior motives. And you were proven correct when you saw him subtly try to maneuver his phone around your purse.

"If you're looking for any type of recording device, you won't find any," you had told him. Juice had frozen and Tara rolled her eyes when she realized what he was doing. "But if it'll make any of you feel better, feel free to dig through my belongings. I'll even let you wave your phone over my body, inch by inch, if you want to."

Juice's eyes had widened and Tara snorted. "I, um, that won't be-"

"For real. Have at it." You opened your purse and planted it directly in front of him. "I have nothing to hide."

Juice had looked at your sister, wincing apologetically. "Sorry, Tara, but we really need to make sure."

Tara had looked like she wanted to argue, but you really had nothing to hide. So you let Juice go through your belongings, searching for any type of listening or recording device that wasn't there. And when nothing turned up and your story seemed to check out, you were finally allowed inside the clubhouse.

Of course, though, before you step foot into their domain, Tara explained the rules of the MC world. She explained how the hierarchy around there worked, but while you understood the men were ranked differently, you were more interested in the hierarchy among the women. Croweaters, or sweetbutts, were what the men all referred to as free pussy. You had wrinkled your nose at the term and Tara completely understood, but you apparently had to know what you were walking into. Tara was Queen Bee and all the women answered to her, but the veteran croweaters would see you as competition. Tara promised to keep the drama from you as long as she could, but she mentioned it was only a matter of time before a confrontation occurred. And if said confrontation ever occurred, you were well within your rights to put a bitch in her place to prevent further confrontations. Jax's only stipulation was that you didn't kill anyone. Women business was women business, but the club did not need the cops investigating a death on the premises. You agreed.

The Sons soon became used to your presence in the club, though you did tend to stay away from their Friday night parties. You had been approached by nearly everyone- Tig tried only once to get into your pants before both you and Tara shut that shit down- and made friends with a few. However, your favorite, by far, has been Juice. Of course, you really liked your brother-in-law, but you couldn't help but feel that he was just waiting for you to slip up.

On one of the shop's slow days, Jax orders some of the lower ranking members and Prospects to watch the garage while everyone else slinks off to the clubhouse to start winding down for the day. You were already there when they walked in, waiting for Tara to get off work, sitting on the couch with your feet propped up on the coffee table and laptop in your lap. You've been in the cheap motel for too long now and you were looking for a place to call your own since Tara didn't want you going anywhere. And Juice, being the only other person in the club who knew his way around technology, was sitting next to you with his own laptop and digging through information on the houses you'd been looking into.

"Any luck?" Jax asks, sitting across from you on another couch, beer in hand.

"Eh." You shrug. "Found a few places, but Juice has been vetoing them."

"I love Charming, but our locals are seriously trying to rent out places that are in need of major fixes."

"Aren't 'ya swimmin' in cash, lass? Build. Or better yet, ask that Stark fella to lend a helpin' hand," Chibs muses.

"Nah."

"I don't know. If I had a billionaire for a friend, I'd be asking for all sorts of favors," Opie says.

You glance up from your screen, narrowing your eyes on the bearded Son. "Are you guys still on that? Just because I don't hold phone conversations with them on the regular, doesn't mean I don't personally know them. They're very busy people."

"Bullshit." Tig calls out. "I think you just threw out some big names so we would tread carefully around 'ya. Or just to make yourself look cool."

You pinch the bridge of your nose, sighing.

"What? What'd I miss?"

Your sister's voice calms you. "These idiots still think I don't know the Avengers."

"Well.."

You quickly glance at Tara. "You too?!"

"I'm sorry!" She laughs as she takes a seat next to you. "You can't just name drop those names and have nothing to show for your friendship with them."

"Phones are easily hacked! I wasn't about to have pictures with them and then have those pictures end up in the wrong hands."

"I got twenty that says she doesn't actually know them," Happy says. You gape at him, the stoic biker not one for many words. At least not when you were in the room.

"Seriously?"

"I'll take that bet," Chibs says. He pulls a twenty from his kutte pocket and throws it on the table.

You glance between those sitting around- Jax, Opie, Bobby, Tig and Juice tossing down cash as well. Chibs, Bobby, and Juice were the ones who thought you were telling the truth about the Avengers, whereas Happy, Jax, Opie and Tig thought you were spewing bullshit. Tara, however, was on the fence. She wanted to believe you, but she wanted proof.

"Fine. Fine!" You grit out, scowling at the Sons. "I'll make a video call, but I can't guarantee it'll be answered."

Jax smirks. "Of course. Go ahead."

Closing out of your opened tabs, you pull up your video calling app. Out of everyone, you figured Tony would be your best bet since he never cared to stay focused on his work unless it was super fuckin' important. So after leaning forward to place your laptop on the coffee table, you hit Tony's icon and sit back while it rings.

The Sons start to smirk as the fourth ring goes unanswered, but by the sixth when your call is answered, it's your turn to smirk.

"Shortstack! You called!"

"Hey, Tones."

From one moment to the next, the Sons are all scrambling out of their seats to stand behind the couch you're sitting on. Tara and Juice gape at the screen, and you can see the sparkling amusement in Tony's eyes. "What's up? You need me to be the Daddy Warbucks to your Annie again?"

Your nose wrinkles. "Why does that sound so gross?" Your question goes unanswered and you shake your head. "And no. Just thought I'd call and say hi. And to appease these morons around me. They didn't believe I was set up with superheroes while I was in New York."

"Ahh. Got 'ya." You can see his gaze dart to your sister. "So you must be the other Knowles. Nice. Your shitty father made hot daughters."

Tara barks out a laugh. "Uh, thanks."

"Mhm." His gaze then darts all over the screen. "And you gentlemen must be those outlaw bikers I know absolutely nothing about."

The Sons all around you tense and your eyes narrow at the screen. "Tony.."

"What?" He feigns innocence. "I said I know nothing."

"You're not Jon Snow. You know everything, don't you?"

"Oh, would you look at that? I think Pepper-"

"Anthony Edward Stark!"

"Fine. I got bored on day two of your absence and did some research on your sister. I made the connections you no doubt did, after all I taught you everything you know, and ate all the bags of popcorn as I read through their files. They're fascinating people. I definitely need to meet them in person."

You exhale tiredly. "Goddammit, Tony. You promised not to stick your nose in places it doesn't belong."

"Whatever. Natasha's impressed. She wants to meet them too. We all have our bets on which biker you've already bedded."

You choke on nothing but air as the Sons slowly start to loosen back up, chuckling. "What?! I'm not sleeping with anyone."

"Really? I had my money on Lowman. He looked like the scariest one and after you had that thing with Barnes-"

"What!?" Your sister cuts in. You can feel your face heat up and Tony smirks at you through the screen. "Did you have sex with a national icon, YN?"

"Maybe." She gasps and you groan. "But it wasn't with Barnes. He was a tough nut to crack." Tony laughs. "I, uh, I defiled the other national icon."

"You boned Captain America?" Jax asks, eyebrows raised in surprise. "Nice."

"Can we move on, please? I didn't call to talk about my sex life."

"But it's such a fun topic. By the way, Natasha has her money on Ortiz. She said you wouldn't be able to resist that goofy smile of his for long."

From your peripheral vision, you see Juice face you. You see his lips stretch wide and you shake your head. "Not a word."

"What?" This time is Juice's turn to feign innocence.

The Sons chuckle all around you as you glare at Tony. "Thanks for that, Tin-Man-"

"You're welcome."

"-but now I'm gonna go since you've started shit I'm gonna have to deal with for the next couple of weeks. A bunch of these assholes didn't believe I knew you, so now that their curiosity is sated, my job is done."

"Sure. See you, Shortstack."

As soon as you end the call, Juice leans forward to collect the cash from the table and divide it up between himself, Bobby and Chibs.

"So," your sister drawls. "That was something."

"Mhm. And now that I've opened the floodgates, I'm pretty sure those calls with Tony are going to be more frequent. He's too nosy for his own good, but no worries. He won't say shit about anything he learns. He loves the drama."

"And this thing with Captain America?" You groan and your sister nudges you. The Sons all reclaim their seats, giving you their undivided attention. "How did that happen?"

You shrug. "I honestly don't know. It was only once, so don't get carried away. We were friends, we fucked and got it out of our systems, and then went back to normal."

"And what about the Winter Soldier?" Jax asks, eyes glittering in amusement. "Now that's one scary dude. Did you really try to fuck with all that?"

"Dude's a charmer when he's not on a mission," you tell him. "That fuckin' smirk of his did me in and he knew it, but he wouldn't get involved. Said he had too many enemies and couldn't risk someone catching wind of any significant other and using them against him."

"Good," Tara says.

All is quiet and then, "I don't have that many enemies. We could still-"

"Oh my god, Juice, shut up and help me find a house."

Against your will, your cheeks heat up and you do your best to not look in his direction. "That wasn't a no."

Tara snorts so hard she clamps a hand over her mouth, muffling her laughter as you try to sink in your seat and disappear.

Juan Carlos Ortiz was definitely going to be trouble, but deep down you were looking forward to it.

Juan Carlos- er, Juice- really amped up the flirting when Tony admitted that the Black Widow figured you would have slept with him by now. He really was your type and had you met him outside of the club, you probably would have slept with him. But for some reason, you felt as if the Sons were off limits and decided not to go there. Not even after Tara had given you permission since you were an adult and could handle your own shit.

But even after having that permission, you held back a bit. You let him flirt and even started to flirt back, surprising him one day when you were playing a game of pool with your sister. You knew perfectly well what you were doing, but Juice still found it necessary to bend over your back and cage in with his arms to show you how to properly handle a cue. Across the table, Tara hadn't bothered to hide her amusement as you played along, pushing your ass back into his groin and then pulling away to take the shot on the other end of the table.

And though you never said anything out loud, you did take notice of how he started distancing himself from the sweetbutts when they tried to get him to take them to his dorm in the back. Unfortunately, the sweetbutts noticed it too and didn't bother hiding their annoyance with you.

Tara ended up convincing you to buy a house instead of renting, and it was no surprise Juice helped with that as well. With his and Tara's help, you were able to find a three bedroom, two bath house and easily put in an offer that was accepted only after a few days.

So after a long day of buying furniture and setting it up in your house, Jax threw a party at the clubhouse to officially welcome you to Charming.

By midnight, the party at the Sons of Anarchy clubhouse was in full swing. Jax gave a speech and then had you do a shot with all the Sons you've become comfortable around, along with your sister. Sweetbutts worked the stripper pole and worked the floor, trying to pick up any fully patched member of the club, and you were immediately annoyed with all the glaring when Juice chose to spend some time with you at the bar.

Juice had eventually walked off to play some pool with Opie and Tara decides she needs the bathroom after one too many drinks, leaving you all alone. A Prospect behind the bar asks if you need another beer and you gladly take one. Just as you're handed your beer, your right shoulder is shoved- shoved hard enough to know it wasn't an accident. So turning on your stool, with one knee still crossed over the other, you raise an eyebrow at the group of three sweetbutts trying to intimidate you with their glares.

"Yes?" You muse. "How can I help you.." you pause, looking them up and down, and wrinkling your nose a bit to show your dislike of them, "ladies?"

"Listen, sweetheart, I think it's time you learn the rules of the MC." The blonde addressing you has too much makeup caked on her face, and it takes everything in you to not outright laugh at her. "We've put our time in here with the boys which means we get the pick of the litter. New pussy deals with the hang arounds and leaves the patched members for us."

"Is that so," you drawl. You take a sip of your beer, eyes glittering. You know you've had one too many since you're entertaining these morons.

"Yes." Your cheek suddenly stings with a slap you hadn't anticipated and your head barely moves with the force from the hit. Those around you cease all movement and noise to see how this plays out, and even the music is lowered. All eyes are on you. "Stay away from Juice."

Blondie's staring heatedly at you, your lips twitch, and then suddenly you're laughing.

Sliding off your stool, you stand next to her while addressing everyone watching on. "Listen up, sweetbutts," you call out. "I don't know what it is I did that made all of you so insecure, but you need to knock it the fuck off right now." Several of the sweetbutts scoff. "I am fed up with your petty bullshit, so consider this your first and only warning. If you approach me with the intention of warning me off a guy who is clearly not interested in sticking his dick in a party favor anymore-"

"Oh shit," someone laughs.

"-then you're going to walk off looking far worse than this skank standing next to me."

The entire clubhouse is quiet, so it's not hard to hear the mumbles of confusion. You obviously hadn't done anything to the sweetbutt standing next to you.

"Listen, you little-"

Without batting an eye, you angle your body towards the blonde sweetbutt, grab the back of her head and slam her face down on the bar. There's a sickening crack before the sweetbutt crumples to the floor and you exhale tiredly. "There's your warning," you deadpan. "If you start shit with me, you can bet your fake tits and fake tans that I'll fuckin' end it." Everyone blinks at you in surprise and you snap your fingers at the two closest sweetbutts standing next to you. "Get your friend off the floor and clean her up." They blink at you. "Now!"

The sweetbutts flinch at the tone of your voice and hurriedly collect their friend off the ground. It's your turn to glare until they're out of the vicinity and before you can take a seat, Juice is suddenly all up in your personal space, hand grasping the back of your neck and pulling your face to his.

Wolf whistles and catcalls erupt all around you as Juice controls the possessive kiss. Then when you start to pull back, you pull his bottom lip between your teeth and nip. He groans and you fully pull back then, reclaiming your stool and sipping your beer. "Still not sleeping with you, Juan Carlos."

He smiles, big and goofy, and your heart stutters as he steps between your knees, hands caging you in against the bar top. "At least not yet."

You laugh and then act as if the last couple of minutes didn't happen, but given the look Tara and Jax are giving you, it did. "Wow." Your sister drawls. "You're not even an Old Lady and these bitches are scared of you."

Jax laughs. "You're a little spitfire, huh. Now I see the resemblance to Tara."

You roll your eyes, swatting at Juice so he pulls back some. "Sorry about the-"

"Don't apologize," Jax says. "You were well within your rights. I'm proud of 'ya."

"Yeah. Me too." You meet Juice's amused gaze, letting him steal another quick kiss before you push him away.

"Alright, Juan Carlos, off you go. You staked your claim."

Juice laughs once more before he takes his leave, Jax watching his brother with amused eyes. "Juice, really?"

"Don't give me that look. I can't help it. His smile really should be considered a weapon."

Jax laughs. "Enjoy the rest of your party, sis."

You beam at him. "Will do, bro."

The next few months in Charming are some of the best months of your life. Not only do you have your sister by your side, but Juice has become a pretty solid presence in your daily life and it surprisingly doesn't bother you one bit.

You became acquainted with the MC life a bit more and, though you and Juice steered clear of the old lady label, the sweetbutts of the club learned pretty fast to not touch what everyone knew to be yours. And when other fully patched members from other charters tried to push up on you when they were visiting, Juice was quick to shut that shit down.

So, of course, when everything is going well, it's no surprise that it all quickly turns to shit.

The charter from Tacoma is set to visit in a couple of days, so you and Tara gathered all the sweetbutts to help get the clubhouse in tiptop shape. And since it was the weekend, only a handful of patched members were working the front while the others lazed about.

You are behind the bar, taking stock of the alcohol and mentioning to Tara what the club needed to stock up on when Jax saunters up to the bar.

"Hey YN?"

"Yeah?" You hum.

"Care to explain why suited up Avengers are making their way through the lot?"

"What?" Your head snaps up and you look out the door, and sure enough you spot Natasha, Wanda, Steve, Tony and Bruce making their way towards the clubhouse. And in the middle of them all Nick Fury strides confidently with his coat flapping behind him. You pale. "Fuck."

"YN?" Tara frowns. "What's going on?"

"I- I don't know." You quickly scramble out from behind the bar, rushing towards the door to meet them before they can step foot inside. Jax and Tara are not far behind you, and the other Sons are starting to close in to see what's going on.

You can't decipher anything from Steve or Natasha's expressions, but Wanda, Tony and Bruce are clearly apologetic. Fury stops just a few feet from you, uncaring for those gathering around him. "Agent Knowles," you flinch at the title, "we need-"

"No." You cut him off.

"Doll," Steve tries then and you take a step back, shaking your head.

"Not only no, but fuck no! I'm out, remember?" You bump into someone and glance over your shoulder to see Juice there, eyes dark as he glares down Steve. When you stare back forward, you nearly roll your eyes at Natasha's smug expression.

"It's a matter of Earth's destruction, kiddo," Tony says. "We need all our heavy hitters on board."

"Wait, what?" Tara says. "Heavy hitters? But my sister's not-"

"You didn't tell them," Natasha realizes.

"Tell us what?" Jax grits out.

Against your will, your eyes start to fill with tears. "I just wanted a normal life. Why did you have to-"

"YN." A hand grips your own and you're faced with a worried sister. "What's going on?"

You swallow down the lump in your throat less your voice cracks. "We need to talk." Then looking at Jax, you say, "I'm sorry. I never meant for anyone to find out this part of my life, but if you can clear the clubhouse, I'll explain. This is something I don't want just anyone knowing, so only bring in those you absolutely trust with your life."

The tendons in Jax's cheek twitches as he clenches his jaw, but Tara's hand slipping into his calms him a bit. "Fine." Jax looks out at all his brothers. "Get inside. Get the Prospects to watch the garage and send everyone else home."

Jax receives nods in return, and Tig, Juice, and Bobby start jogging around to send all the sweetbutts home and to make sure the Prospects remain in the garage and to not take on any new appointments. Fury and your friends from New York follow you into the clubhouse, looking around and taking in their new surroundings. And when you see Tony head for the bar, you sigh and grab him by the wrist before marching him over to the couches. Tara's lips twitch when she sees you scold the billionaire and he pouts in return.

After what seems like forever, everyone takes a seat. Or stands, as in Jax's case.

Opie, Chibs, Tig, Happy, Bobby and Juice are glancing around, waiting to hear just exactly what's going on that has their President looking a bit murderous.

"So, uh, you guys remember that rough patch between my nursing job and before I started working for Stark Industries? The rough patch where I told you that a group of friends helped me out of?"

Tara's eyes light up as she comes to a realization. "You said that the Avengers helped you out."

"Yeah." You gulp. "So as it turns out, I have alien DNA thanks to my mom." The room is deathly quiet and you shakily breath out. "I could have lived my entire life without ever knowing, but I was one of the unlucky individuals who was exposed to contaminated supplements."

"Contaminated how?" Tara asks.

"With terrigen crystals," you tell her. Sighing, you realize you're gonna have to explain. "There's an alien race out there that can pass for human until they're exposed to something called terrigen mist. Once exposed, their powers are activated."

"You have superpowers?!" Juice blurts. When all gazes dart to him, some annoyed and others amused, he sinks into his seat. "Sorry."

You flash him a grin and then get back to your story. "A shipment of this mist was dropped into the ocean, forming crystals among the sea life and ocean floor. Contaminated fish were caught and sold to businesses as usual. One day I was taking my daily dose of vitamins, fish oil was in there, and minutes later I was being cocooned in rock." You take a breath as that information sinks in. "I don't know how long I was stuck in stasis, but then in the next moment I was breaking free and in possession of powers so destructive that I dropped everything and ran."

"We found her," Tony says, "and took her in. She had brought down a building, took out a ring of illegal weapons dealers-"

"On accident! I just saw something I wasn't supposed to, they cornered me, I panicked and then my powers lashed out."

"Whatever," Tony huffs. "You were a complete badass and were in training to become one of us until you decided to live life like a normie."

Tara and Jax now look at you in surprise, and you shake your head. "Sure it sounds cool, but you guys didn't see what I was capable of. I was training in between my shifts in the medical wing and I nearly killed Wanda in a training session before I suited up for the first time. Wanda!" You say, pointing to the brunette in question. "She's the strongest Avenger and I nearly took her out. I wasn't safe."

Tony scoffs. "First of all, Wands isn't the-"

"Yeah, she is," you deadpan. "But anyway, I couldn't deal and decided to ask Doctor Banner if there was any way to cure what I had become. There isn't a cure for people like me, but there are suppressors. So after signing a shit load of paperwork, I asked Doctor Banner for those suppressors and wiped my hands of the superhero life."

"So you still have these powers?" Tara asks.

"Yeah. I just can't access them as long as I take the pills I was given."

"We have an injection that can reverse the pill's effects," Fury says. You freeze and glance at the Director, eyes narrowing. "Stark wasn't lying when he said we needed our heavy hitters."

"I'm a liability. Find someone else."

"There is no one else."

"Fuck that!" You snap at him. "You're Nick fuckin' Fury! Your secrets have secrets! There has to be other individuals out there that can stand against whatever's coming. Where's Thor?"

"On Asgard taking care of his people after the aliens coming here ransacked his home," Steve says. "He sent some friends to warn us of the impending danger."

"Fuck," you groan.

"Look at it this way, Agent Knowles-"

"Stop calling me that," you grit out. "I resigned."

Nick rolls his one good eye. "If you don't help and we somehow miraculously win this fight, the life you set up for yourself here goes away. This little club you've surrounded yourself in goes away." The Sons all tense in their seats, and you and Tara stare at Nick with wide, disbelieving eyes. "And then for the rest of your life you'll be looking over your shoulder for a bunch of pissed off bikers who've been thrown back into prison all because you couldn't handle your shit like a grown-up."

The Sons suddenly draw their weapons, but the Avengers and Nick merely stand there without batting an eye. The rage you feel after your friends and family have been threatened is nothing you've ever felt before, but before you can explode on the Director of SHIELD, Tara's touching your shoulder.

The tension flees your body when you see her tearfilled eyes. "Tara, I-"

"Please," she murmurs. "If not for the club, then for Abel. Whatever's going on, it sounds serious. I want my son to live a long and happy life." Your bottom lip trembles and your head hangs in shame. Tara's suddenly in front of you, arms wrapping around you as she lets you cry on her shoulder. "It's going to be okay. You have a bigger support system now. We'll help you."

After giving yourself a moment to recover and gather your thoughts, you lift your head and school your expression before turning to face Fury. "I'll do it, but on one condition."

"Name it."

"I do this, and anything and everything you dug up about those associated with the Sons of Anarchy vanishes. Anything pops up in the future, I expect you to catch it and scrub it."

The Sons all look at you in surprise and Steve looks ready to object, but Fury nods. "Done."

To be continued..

[shemarmooresfedora]

Rebuilding Family

Summary: Y/N and Spencer were college sweethearts at Cal-Tech but once Spencer got accepted to the FBI Academy, he ended things deciding it was not fair to make Y/N wait for him. When they meet again years later, he discovers something unexpected.

Pairing: Spencer Reid x Fem! Reader

Warnings: swearing

A/N: for my 100 follower celebration (thank you so much), i opened up my fic requests! please just read my brief fic request guidelines before requesting!!! also thank god the ‘read more’ link is finally working for me. so sorry for people who had to scroll on the previous chapters (i am going to go back and fix them now)!!!

Masterlist

Chapter 16

“I’m home!” Spencer called out.

Jo bolted down the stairs and leapt into his arms, “Daddy!”

“Hi, Princess! Did you have a good day?” he asked.

“Yes, I played kickball with Henry at recess today,” she informed him.

“I have a surprise for you,” Spencer smiled, bringing her over to the couch.

You walked out of the kitchen just as Spencer was pulling an envelope out of his bag.

“What’s this?” you asked.

“You’ll see,” he grinned.

Jo pulled three tickets out of the envelope, examining them.

“They’re for the Smithsonian Museum of Natural History, Jo! They have a huge dinosaur exhibit and we can all go together this Friday,” Spencer explained.

“Thank you, Daddy!” she hugged him.

“You’re welcome, Princess. But I want to go too so this isn’t a completely selfless gift,” he chuckled.

-

Jo was waiting on the couch in full dino gear. She was so excited...and then your phone rang.

“Y/N, I can’t make it. I have a case and they really need me. I’m so sorry,” Spencer apologized.

You sighed, “Okay, I’ll tell Jo. Stay safe.”

You hung up the phone and sat down on the couch next to Jo, smoothing her hair back.

“Baby, I have some bad news. Daddy can’t come with us tonight,” you spoke softly.

“Why?” she whispered, tears forming in her lash line.

“He has to help other people who really need him,” you pulled her in for a hug, “But we will still go and have a great time and I’m sure Daddy will make this up to you when he gets home.”

“Okay,” Jo sniffled.

“You are such a brave little girl for letting Daddy help others instead of be with you. Now, let’s go see some dinosaurs.”

-

You didn’t know a bunch of cool facts off the top of your head like Spencer would so you mainly had to read from the plaques that were next to the exhibits.

Jo seemed to have fun regardless but you could tell she was a little down. You were walking to the car when she began to squirm.

“Need to pee,” Jo said.

Knowing she couldn’t hold it until home, you walked into some fancy restaurant hoping they would let you just quickly use the bathroom.

Luckily, they did but you stopped dead in your tracks when you were exiting the bathroom. Spencer was at a table with an attractive woman with a dark-haired bob. They were making some serious eye contact. This didn’t look like an urgent case at all, it looked like a date.

You scurried out of the restaurant before he could see you. Jo didn’t see him either which was a relief because you didn’t know how to tell her that her Daddy was a fucking asshole.

You rushed home, packing bags for you and Jo. You couldn’t be here when he got home. You wouldn’t let him interact with Jo after choosing some girl over her feelings.

“Where are we going?” Jo asked as you loaded the bags into the car.

“We are going to Grandma and Grandpa’s for a little while,” you said as you buckled her in.

“Is Daddy coming?”

“Um no. Daddy may be gone for a while,” you explained.

Once Jo was fast asleep in the car, you finally let yourself break, the tears drenching your cheeks. How could Spencer do this to you and Jo? Apparently you were not enough for him.

-

All of Spencer’s calls and texts were left unanswered. As he arrived home, the lights were off which was weird because you were usually still up by now.

He was still shaken up about the last thing Cat said to him.

“In twenty years, I’ll remember your name but you won’t remember mine.”

All he wanted to do was hug his girls and memorize every single thing about them so he could never ever forget them.

As he walked up the steps, a note was taped to the front door.

Pack your shit and leave. I never want to see you again. Stay away from me and especially Jo.

Spencer pulled out his phone so fast and called you. Voicemail, shit.

“Baby, I’m so sorry I missed the museum but I was already brainstorming ways to make it up to you both. Please come home,” he pleaded.

Spencer dragged himself upstairs, opting to sleep in your bed instead of his. He was so exhausted, he would be useless trying to find you right now.

When Spencer awoke the next morning, the house was still just as empty as it was last night. He sighed, calling Penelope.

“Garcia, could you please track Y/N’s phone? I’ll send you her number,” he asked.

“Do you have a reason?” she countered, “I can’t just go looking up everyone’s location. I mean I could but I need to be able to justify it to the director if they go through my computer.”

“She left a note but she isn’t responding to my calls or texts. I just need to make sure she’s okay.”

“She’s in Fair Haven, New York.”

“That’s over a seven hour drive. She must have driven all night,” Spencer exclaimed.

“So she’s okay?” Penelope asked.

“Yes, thank you, Garcia. Her parents live there.”

Spencer quickly brushed his teeth, repacked his go bag, and set off on his drive.

-

You were all having dinner at the table when there was an urgent knock at the door followed by the doorbell ringing. Your father got up from the table and looked into the entryway.

“He’s here,” he said.

You sighed, walking up to the front door and closing the curtain right in Spencer’s face.

-

You had put Jo to bed and were now peeking out of your old bedroom’s window on the second floor.

“He’s still here?” your mom asked.

Spencer had seated himself on the bench on your front porch and had not left since then.

“Maybe you should talk to him, sweetie. He’s gonna freeze to death out there.”

“Mom, he went on a date with another woman when he was supposed to be taking our daughter to the museum and lied about it to me. I really don’t care,” you said.

“Well, you could at least tell him to leave if you don’t want to talk to him because it seems like he is waiting to say something.”

You sighed, grabbing a quilt from the end of your bed and stomping down the stairs.

“Here,” you opened the door and threw the quilt and a few granola bars at him, trying to close the door quickly again.

“Y/N, please wait!”

The door was already shut. That was as nice as you were willing to be at the moment. No one was forcing him to stay, he could leave at any time. But you weren’t up for hearing whatever he had to say right now.

-

To Spencer’s credit, he did sleep out there all night, not even going back to the warmth of his car.

Jo really wanted to go to the park this morning which means you were going to have to walk past Spencer.

After zipping up her coat, you said, “Jo, we are going to play a game where we don’t talk to Daddy, okay?”

“Why?” she asked curiously.

“Just because,” you sighed.

You lifted her up and opened the door. Spencer looked up, immediately standing up. You tightened your grip around Jo.

“Y/N, can you talk to me please? I don’t understand. You didn’t seem too mad about the case when I called you. I get it was awful timing but-” he rambled as he followed you to the car.

After finishing buckling Jo, you shut the car door. She didn’t need to hear what you were about to say.

“If you want a family so fucking bad, go fuck your side chick and stop trying to weasel your way into ours. I can’t believe you chose getting laid over going to the museum with your own daughter. I had to comfort her crying when I told her you weren’t coming and I said you were helping people but you were only helping yourself. Honestly did you just pretend to like me again so you could get to see your daughter to prove you’re better than your father? Cause from where I stand, Spencer, you’re no better,” you hit him right where you knew it would hurt.

“Y/N, what?” he looked heartbroken but you couldn’t trust anything about him anymore.

You got into the car and reversed out of the driveway, wiping the tears from your face.

“You lost,” Jo said.

“What?” you asked.

“You talked to Daddy.”

“Yeah, baby. I did lose.”

-

You got home late. You had purposely stayed out most of the day to avoid Spencer who was no doubt still camped out on your parent’s front porch.

As soon as you arrived home, he was already walking over to you.

You put your pointer finger up to silence him, “Let me tuck Jo in and then I’ll come down.”

Spencer was sitting on the bench when you returned. You stood by the door with your arms wrapped around you as if to protect yourself.

“I wasn’t on a date,” Spencer whispered.

“I saw, Spencer.”

“Well, I kinda was but it was an undercover mission for a case. I like you, Y/N. Actually, I love you, Y/N. I never stopped loving you...”

“How do I know this isn’t another lie?” you whispered.

Spencer pulled his phone out of his pocket, “I had Garcia forward me Cat Adams’ case file and the security footage from that night. You can see Rossi, JJ, Morgan, and Tara all there but they were dressed up undercover too which is why you didn’t notice them there.”

“I’m sorry,” you spoke softly after reviewing the footage and seeing the mugshots of the woman, “I just assumed and my anger got the best of me. What I said to you about your father was especially cruel and untrue.”

“You had every right to be upset, I know it looked bad. I will try to clarify upcoming cases when I can but sometimes the details are confidential.”

“I promise to listen to your side of the story first next time before making you sleep on a bench outside,” you softly giggled, “and...I love you too. I don’t think I stopped either.”

“Can I kiss you?” he smiled, standing up and slowly approaching you.

“Yes you may, Spence,” you smiled as he brushed a strand of hair behind your ear.

[keanureevesisbae]

But professor... - c.1

Summary: Penny Townsend is going to attend her first criminology class. What she didn’t expect was professor Walter Marshall.

Professor!Walter Marshall x Penny Townsend (Asian ofc)

Wordcount: 3.3k

Warnings: Mentions of murder and blood

A/N: I hope you enjoy this Professor!AU -- can you imagine? Walter Marshall as a professor? 🤤

Masterlist // But professor... masterlist // Next chapter

✎ ✎ ✎

My parents hoped that I would become a doctor. I get it—being friends with a lot of successful parents with equally successful children, must’ve raised their standard for me. They however must’ve known that medicine wasn’t it for me and going to law school isn’t my forte either. It must’ve been hard on them, knowing I wasn’t that intellectually gifted, though they tried their best for me to be.

They did a lot for me. At the ripe age of two to five hours, I was placed at the entrance of a church in Maryland. The pastor and his wife discovered me and brought me to the hospital, only to found out I wasn’t just a couple weeks premature, but also had a lot of heroin in my system.

My birth parents barely gave me a chance the second I was born (probably when I was conceived, but okay) and that is why I am so grateful that my adoptive parents care so much about me.

And that’s why I want to make them proud and studying psychology is my best chance at being the successful daughter they deserve, but man does it feel wrong to be here. I know there is another student out there who deserves to be here, who actually wants to do this, yet here I am taking their place.

Psychology wasn’t the greatest choice already, but having to take criminology was an even bigger mistake. I walk into the lecture hall for the first criminology class. My hands shake because of the nerves, they’re even clammy. I’m not good at making friends, so seeing those cliques that has formed after only two weeks of university, makes me slightly jealous and really alone.

I never really fitted in. My teachers would describe me as a sweet young girl, who is painfully shy.

That, of course, is if they even noticed me at all.

It can be hard to fit in, especially when you feel out of place the second you enter a room, like I have felt since I can remember.

‘Take a seat,’ I hear a deep voice say and I look up, to meet the eyes of the professor. He is unlike all of my other professors. He isn’t in a suit or at least some decent slacks. His denim jeans hugs his thick thighs, as he wears a sweater on top. His curls are disheveled and slightly frizzy and his beard is asymmetrical. A deep frown in between his brows.

‘Me?’ I ask in a soft tone.

He nods. ‘You,’ he confirms.

I walk passed him to choose a seat in the back. I take place and look around me, only to meet the eyes of the professor again. While I wonder what made him choose teaching, since he doesn’t look like someone who was born to teach, I also ponder about the fact he is looking at me again.

Why would he do that?

I grab my laptop and open it, opening a new document. I’ve been going to NYU for two weeks now, yet this is my first criminology class. I run my fingers through my hair, pushing up the glasses on my nose bridge.

‘Okay everyone,’ I hear the professor say, when it’s time for the class to start. ‘There is a sheet going around. Find the spot you’re sitting now and write down your name. If I find out you are messing with me, you have failed your class immediately.’

He is not beating around the bush.

‘I’m detective Walter Marshall. I have worked for the MPD, the Minneapolis Police Department. For this semester there are three subjects we’ll cover. Victimology, crime analysis and the psychology of criminal behavior.’

This is not at all what I want to learn. This is too gore for me. I should’ve stood up to my parents and go to cosmetology school like I originally wanted. It’s better for me anyways.

I’m so stupid.

The paper ends up on my table and I try to find my place on it. I write down ‘Penelope Townsend’ and slide it to the person two tables over. Professor Marshall explains how we have a weekly lecture of two hours and how he is available for questions every Friday, since he’ll be in his office.

‘Does anyone have any questions?’

A guy raises his hand. ‘Why aren’t you working for the MPD anymore, sir?’

Professor Marshall sits on the edge of his desk, crossing his muscular arms in front of his chest. ‘I was put on leave.’

‘Why?’

‘There were some issues,’ he says. ‘Between me and suspects.’

I have no idea what he is implying, but the silence in the classroom is so thick, that I have a clue what types of issues came with said suspects.

‘Really?’ the guy asks.

The professor only raises his eyebrows, which obviously means he isn’t joking. You don’t need to have studied Psychology to figure that out. ‘Any more questions?

‘Do we work in pairs for the assignment?’ a girl asks.

He shakes his head. ‘No, individual works only.’

I let out a sigh of relief. Thank the stars, I don’t want to work with others. Really, I don’t.

‘Okay, if that’s all, let me start right away. What do these women have in common?’ He presses a button on his presenter and the screen behind him changes. Three pictures of women appear on the screen. It’s their driver’s license photo.

‘They’re women,’ a guy says, causing a few to laugh.

Professor Marshall grabs the paper with names and says: ‘Does anyone have something less obvious to comment than mister Fitzgerald?’ He seems not amused at all by the words of Fitzgerald.

‘Brown hair, blue eyes,’ a girl says.

He nods. ‘And?’

‘They’re pretty,’ another girl says.

‘Beauty is in the eye of the beholder,’ he notes. His eyes scan the paper and he looks up. ‘Miss Townsend, do you have something to add?’

Our eyes meet again and I realize that I’m the only miss Townsend in the class. I clear my throat and look at the pictures. Say something smart, Penny. Say something intelligent. Really intelligent.

The obvious things have already been said, so I should stay away from those things.

I swallow hard, press my glasses better on my nose and say: ‘Their left eyelid is slightly droopy.’

I hear some people chuckle a bit, making me feel everything but intelligent.

‘Quiet,’ professor Marshall says and the chuckles die down instantly. ‘Their droopy left eyelid is what made them appealing to the killer.’ He looks up from the other side of class, right at me. His slightly annoyed gaze dissolves for a few moments into a soft one. ‘Miss Townsend made an excellent point here. It took an entire police department to come to that conclusion over the course of two months.’

Oh my goodness, I made an excellent point.

The slides change and I see another picture. This time it’s of a man. It’s a mugshot. I bet he is the killer.

‘Miss Townsend, since you are on a roll,’ the professor continues and I nearly groan. Really? He wants me to answer another questions? ‘What’s do you notice about this man?’

I scan his entire face. He has a crooked nose, blemishes on his forehead and thin lips. He looks like a killer. This would be the type of man I would avoid if I came across him.

‘His left eyelid is also droopy,’ I say.

Is that a tiny smirk on his lips? ‘Correct.’ While professor Marshall continues to explain about how his own appearance is unknowingly influencing his choice of victims, I can’t help but beam a little with pride. ‘Because,’ he continues, ‘if you understand your victims, you can understand your killer.’ The slideshow changes to one word. ‘Welcome to victimology.’

✎ ✎ ✎

Time spend in a lecture hall while professor Marshall teaches flies by. Though he is a bit grumpy and not very welcoming, he is interesting and smart. Much better than my other teachers. I put everything in my backpack, before I get up from my seat. I’m one of the last students to leave the place, mostly because I don’t want to be swarmed by the cliques.

‘Miss Townsend,’ professor Marshall says, causing me to stop misstep as I already passed him.

I turn around. ‘Yes?’ I ask.

He doesn’t look up from his notes. ‘You did well in class today.’

Is this man giving me a compliment? He might be the first one in a teacher like position to ever notice me, let alone give me a compliment. ‘I did?’

‘Yeah,’ he says, now looking up from his notes. ‘Don’t hesitate to say something in class next time. You have great insight.’

‘Or just luck,’ I say.

Professor Marshall shakes his head. ‘No, this isn’t about luck, this is good insight. So, can you promise me to raise your hand next class?’

I bite my lip, before shaking my head. ‘No, I can’t.’

‘Why can’t you?’

‘What I said: this was luck and it probably won’t happen again. I have to go. I reserved a spot at the library. If that is all, sir?’

He doesn’t say anything, simply looks at me. It takes a second, maybe two before he nods. ‘If you have questions,’ he says, ‘you know how to contact me.’

I nod, before I walk out of the hall. I see students gathering in front of the door and I quickly slip through them and make my way to the library. I’ve been going to classes for around two weeks now and I’m still up to date as we speak. I decide to at least make a beginning with the assignments of my criminology class, because the sooner I start, the less work and stress I’ll experience later on, because I most definitely will stress about it.

It’s been quite awhile since I opened a book for school for assignments or preparing for exams. After high school, I decided to take a gap year, which ended in two. I’ve traveled with all sorts of groups to different countries, worked at an international cafe in Japan for awhile. It did help me with my social skills. I was happy, social and totally in my element. Those wonderful skills were all forgotten the second I stepped foot back in the USA again.

It was my parents that pushed for going back to college and once they figured out that medicine or law wasn’t up my alley, they agreed psychology, though it wasn’t my thing either.

It’s okay, sure, but… Gosh, I miss the freedom I had during the gap years. I’m not stupid, but is the academical life for me? I have looked at cosmetology school and boy do I wish I was there at the moment.

And not here.

✎ ✎ ✎

I don’t know how long I have been at the library, but my eyes are tired by the time I close my laptop. Besides working on my assignment, I also texted my parents to tell them everything is going fine and checked out multiple cosmetology schools here in the area.

Originally I’m from Maryland, meaning it’s only a three hour drive to see my parents and for them to check in on me. I considered lying about my major, about attending NYU and just go to cosmetology school, but mom and dad are paying my tuition, which is another loophole in my plan.

I put the laptop in my backpack and walk out of the library. Every second my mind wasn’t occupied with university related things, it went straight back to my first criminology class, more specifically my professor. His words. It’s one thing he said those things to me, but another that he looked so handsome while saying it.

‘There she is,’ I hear from behind me as I walk through the hallways to the exit. I turn around to discover it’s Fitzgerald. I forgot his first name, which is weird since we share a lot of the same classes together. He isn’t easy to miss. Pleasant on the eyes, that’s for sure, but he is loud, thinks he is hilarious and that makes him kinda annoying. ‘Miss Townsend,’ he says in a mocking tone.

Okay, change kinda annoying to absolutely insufferable.

‘Hm?’

Fitzgerald walks next to me and he comes a lot closer than I prefer. ‘You’re already the teacher’s pet,’ he continues. ‘Bet the man has a thing for Asian chicks.’

I have no idea how to respond to that implication. My instinct says to get out of here, but the exit is right ahead of me and from the looks of it, Fitzgerald is going there as well. So there is no escape.

‘But let’s say it’s beginners luck,’ he says, ‘because it was actually the first time I heard you speak.’

‘You mind leaving me alone?’ I ask.

‘Why is that, sugar boo?’

Okay, now I’m gonna vomit. Goosebumps run over my spine and the hairs in my neck are standing straight up. I bet this guy’s dad is rich, therefore the only reason he is here. ‘I don’t want you here.’

‘You don’t want me here?’ He starts to chuckle. ‘Sweetheart, everyone wants me here.’

Not me.

‘Fitzgerald, are you deaf?’

It’s professor Marshall.

His eyes enlarge when he realizes that too. ‘No, sir,’ he quickly says.

‘She said she doesn’t want you here.’ He stands in front of the two of us, looking everything but amused. ‘You know, back when I was working, I encountered a lot of guys like you. Did you know they usually peak in high school, do okay in college, but the second they end up locked up in jail—and I promise you, they most often will—they aren’t so tough anymore. They usually end up as someone’s bitch.’

To hear this entire monologue and the word bitch from a professor, was not at all what I was expecting. Fitzgerald’s face is drained from all its color. While Fitzgerald looks like he shat himself, I am utterly amazed. I wish I was this intimidating, I think to myself.

Fitzgerald clears his throat, eyes darting around the hallway, almost as if he is trying to find the closest exit. He shoots out of this place very quickly, meaning I’m left with only our professor.

‘Thank you, sir,’ I say.

Professor Marshall simply nods. ‘You know, if you lowered your shoulders, you’d appear more confident.’

Why do I feel so offended? ‘Oh…’

‘It’s advice, miss Townsend, not criticism.’

‘Oh,’ I say again, this time in a whisper like tone. He could’ve brought it up a bit nicer though. No need to hurt my feelings like that.

Professor Marshall and I both walk towards the exit and I notice it’s raining. Great, guess who didn’t bring her umbrella and also isn’t wearing a jacket with a hood?

Absolutely fantastic.

‘Here,’ the professor says, holding out his umbrella for me.

Is this truly happening? ‘Oh, sir, that’s not necessary.’

‘I insist.’

With some hesitation I grab the umbrella from him and smile. ‘Thank you, professor.’

He politely nods and walks off, leaving me with the umbrella and a little bit confused. Though he looks so handsome and slightly intimidating, he still is nice to me. The only teacher ever. Maybe Fitzgerald is right and—

No, no, no, don’t think like that. It’s not that every man who is nice to me all of the sudden has this fetish. That can’t be it, right?

Maybe, despite my aversion, I am actually good at the whole criminology thing and isn’t it a one time thing. Luck. Maybe I do have something I am good at.

✎ ✎ ✎

That Friday I am still on campus after I spend my entire afternoon in the library. Since I have a question about the criminology assignment, I decide walk to the office of professor Marshall. To kill two birds with one stone, I brought his umbrella with me so I can give it back. I knock on the door and hear a low: ‘Come in.’

I open the door and am met with the professor, who is sitting behind is desk. ‘Sir, I have a question about the assignment.’

He leans back in his chair and gestures me to come in. I close the door behind me and expect to sit, until I notice there isn’t a chair anywhere for me to sit on. How unwelcome of him, I think to myself. Does that mean I have to remain standing?

‘What’s your question, miss Townsend?’

‘I didn’t know which format I had to use for the entire assignment. It’s not really that big of a deal, but I was here in the building and I thought that I could…’ Nice way of getting off track, Penny. As they said in high school musical: ‘Get’cha your head in the game’ and this is  not the game. ‘Never mind. Which format should I use?’

‘That’s up to you,’ he says.

That’s it? That’s the answer he is gonna give me?

‘Right,’ I mumble.

‘Other questions, miss Townsend?’

Yes. I let out a deep sigh. ‘The assignment is just harder than I thought,’ I admit. ‘I don’t really understand it.’

Professor Marshall stands up and holds out his hand. ‘Sit, I’ll try to explain it.’

‘In your chair?’

He simply nods and I walk around the desk, to take a seat, while he leans against the windowsill. Oh, the leather is warm… What a body heat does this man produce. ‘Okay, the point of the assignment is to use some of the example files of—staged—murders. Based on the file you choose, you choose a format. You write out the victimology, try to narrate who the killer is, writing down all your findings and there are things I’m gonna talk about in next classes.’

I nod. ‘That makes it easier, thank you, sir.’

‘You’re already working on the assignment?’ he asks. Why does he sound genuinely surprised?

I nod again. ‘I am. I find it easier to work a bit every day, than to cram it all in one day.’ I realize how that sounds. ‘That sounds dorky.’

‘It doesn’t really. It’s a whole lot better than what I did back in the days,’ he says. ‘What did you think of the class?’

Is he asking for my opinion? ‘Your class was very interesting. Slightly morbid though, but fascinating.’

‘Morbid?’ the professor asks. ‘There was nothing morbid about my class.’

I scrunch up my nose. ‘It was kinda scary. With the blood patterns and all. The peek into the murderer’s mind?’ I shiver. ‘Don’t know, felt too personal and too much into the killer’s brain.’

‘The class you’re taking is criminology,’ he says, ‘you should’ve known.’

I shrug, not knowing what to say to him. He is right…

‘Miss Townsend—’

‘Penny,’ I say. ‘It’s Penny. Penelope officially, but people barely call me that.’ People barely call out for me ever, but that’s a different topic. Total different topic.

‘Penny,’ he says, ‘could’ve known.’

I don’t know what he is implying, but I realize I am totally overstaying. ‘I’m sorry, I should go. Thanks for helping me out. Oh, I brought you back your umbrella. I don’t need it anyways.’

Professor Marshall nods. ‘Okay.’

‘I should go. It’s getting kinda dark already.’

‘Let me guess, you don’t do well in the dark.’

I smile almost out of guilt. ‘That obvious?’

For a brief moment I spot a smirk on his face. ‘I’m a detective, I spot these things.’

Okay, not gonna lie, but that’s pretty funny. ‘See you next class, professor,’ I say, standing up from his chair and I walk towards the door.

‘See you next class, Penny.’

[tricksters-captain]

Helmut Zemo imagines - Hostage Part 2

AN: I’m so glad you guys liked the first chapter!! I’m sorry it’s taken longer than expected to get out!!

Summary: You were chosen as one of Karli’s elite. You became a super soldier to help your cause, make the world a better place but taking the serum came with a price. After being cornered one day, you’re taken by the famous Helmut Zemo to give him answers or face the consequences.

In This Chapter: You wake up to find Zemo has taken you hostage to find out information on the whereabouts of Karli Morgenthau. 

(PART 1 HERE)

Pairing(s): Zemo x Fem!Reader, Karli Morganthau x Platonic!Reader

Word Count: 1,721

Warnings: Spoilers for TFATWS, violence, strong language

Zemo caught the young woman’s body as her eyes rolled back. He couldn’t help but let out a grunt as he lifted her up over his shoulder to remove her from the sewers before her accomplice could catch up. 

As he returned to the surface, he peered around the surrounding streets and then carried her over to a parked car. 

He placed her down beside the vehicle as he worked on opening it and getting it started. 

Laying her across the backseat, he made sure he had another syringe handy in case she woke before reaching the desired destination. 

Zemo pulled inside the large building, one of the many he confidentially owned, and removed the flagsmasher from the vehicle before taking her down to the basement of the building. 

He took a moment to remove his large coat as he began to sweat, tossing the expensive garment on the ragged old couch in the corner of the room. 

He carried the girl to the shackles on the wall and stood her up long enough to get the cuffs around her wrists and the thick metal band around her neck. It was a precaution taken to stop her from kicking off the wall if trying to escape. 

Zemo tipped her head back to allow access for the band to wrap around her neck, clasping it on wall behind her. He contemplated removing the flagsmasher mask but ultimately decided it would be easier to gain information from the woman if he couldn’t see just how young she was. Was it wrong for him to admit that? Yes. But he knew it would keep it less personal this way. 

He chained the girl’s ankles together before wiping his brow with his handkerchief and returning to fetch his coat. He figured she may not wake for a while so returned upstairs to make sure the site was secure. 

--

Zemo was grateful when he finally noticed signs of the woman stirring. He had waited long enough to be able to get his hands on one of Karli’s acolytes. 

He introduced himself but you already knew who he was. 

“We have a few things I’d like to discuss first.” Zemo admitted. 

“Like what?” You scowled at the man. 

“Like the whereabouts of Karli Morgenthau.” Zemo pressed his hands together behind his back as he looked upon you. 

You scowled at the man with his mention of Karli. 

“Why would I tell you anything?” You scoffed. 

“Because if you don't, I will simply find the means to force you to.” Zemo’s eyes never left yours as he spoke. 

“Go ahead and try.” You daringly invited him despite the hard knot in your gut. If someone had told you that taking the serum meant being stuck in some freaky torture chamber with Helmut Zemo a few months ago, you weren’t so sure you would’ve taken it. 

Zemo was infamous both as an agent of Sokovia and for single handedly ripping the Avengers apart. 

“Are you really that willing to die for someone who doesn’t even know or care where you are?” Zemo frowned, tilting his head at you. You tried to deflect his mind games but there was a speck of doubt starting to crawl into your mind. 

“They’ll come for me.” You proclaimed. 

“Perhaps they will.” Zemo shrugged, “Perhaps they’ll willingly come to their deaths or perhaps they’ll leave you here to be a martyr for their cause.” 

“You can’t beat us all.” You argued against his threat. 

“On the contrary, I can.” Zemo lifted his finger, his lips turning up into a small smirk as he began to slowly move around the room. “I have experience, and patience. A man can do anything if he has those.”

You tried watching him through your mask that had become increasingly more uncomfortable the longer you wore it. 

You decided against fuelling the fire and remained silent. 

“What's the matter?” Zemo cocked his head towards you. “Cat got your tongue?”

Again, you chose not to respond. 

Zemo quietly scoffed as he started to approach you. 

“Holding your tongue, Miláčik, will not aid you in any way.”

Once he seemed close enough, you tried to jolt forward against your restraints but ultimately failed. 

You choked against the metal neckband and your wrists cried out against the cuffs. They had been much stronger than anything you had encountered before. 

“Vibranium.” Zemo gestured to your holds. “Very difficult to get hold of and very expensive.”

Zemo’s fingertips pressed together as he studied you. You were avoiding eye contact with the man but instead searching the room for any way to get out of your restraints. 

“There is no escape.” Zemo announced as he clocked your behaviour. “The only way you are leaving this place is if you give me the location of Karli and her comrades.” 

“I’ll be leaving this place in a bodybag you mean.” You spat back. 

“Well, that all depends on how long it takes for you to give me what I desire.” Zemo’s smirk dropped. He lifted his chin slightly, glowering at you. 

“Fuck you.” You sneered. Zemo didn’t react to the deprecation, his face cold and hard as he stared unblinking. 

You almost thanked the universe when Zemo’s phone began to rang. 

Zemo answered it swiftly, walking off to the furtherest corner of the basement to take the call to stop you eavesdropping in any way. 

You tried fighting the restraints on your ankles but they were just as strong as the holds on your wrists. You wondered how long Zemo had planned to take one of you hostage. You internally scolded yourself. You should have been more careful. 

“I have some business to take care of.” Zemo interrupted your thoughts as he pulled his mobile away from his ear. “If I were you I’d consider my options whilst I am away. Once I return, we shall be having a little conversation one way or another.” 

You felt an ice cold chill roll down your spine from Zemo's threat. His voice sent goosebumps over your skin and his eyes held enough power to kill you right there.

You watched Zemo climb the rickety staircase without a second glance back to you. 

Sweat began to roll down your forehead under your mask. You growled, rubbing it against your arm to try and remove the damn thing. It didn’t take too long before it was clattering against the floor and you felt like you could finally breathe again. 

You inhaled the damp air deeply and rested your head back against the wall. 

Your mind diverged back to Deedee, you hoped she had gotten out before Zemo could have done anything. You knew he’d take her out if she tried to help you, he only needed one of you alive for information. 

You closed your eyes to try and hone in your senses. You tried to listen for any hint that might tell you where you were. The building was eerily silent despite the howling wind from above; you figured there must be some kind of broken window or hole in the wall causing the whistle. From the state of the room around you, you could tell this was an older building, vacated for a while. 

You couldn’t hear any cars, planes or voices. You had to be somewhere pretty secluded from the rest of the city.

Your eyes snapped open when you heard the latch of the door at the top of the stairs. 

Zemo’s footsteps were heavy as he descended back down to you. 

Your eyes found his hands as he rolled his sleeves up to just below his elbows. 

“Are you ready to talk?” He asked. When he lifted his head from his arms back to you, he froze in his step. Not that you noticed. 

His mouth closed and his jaw seized as his eyes absorbed your features. 

He hadn't expected you to have removed the mask. He recognised you from the mugshots but you looked very different in person. 

You were young, with soft features and your eyes were narrow with vexation. You were also very beautiful. He couldn’t deny that. 

He had to drop his eyes back to his sleeves when he felt an odd familiarity about you begin to impel. 

“What happened to the other woman I was with?” You asked, taking a minute before responding to the man. 

“She left you.” Zemo announced. You felt a wave of relief, realising that she escaped unharmed. 

You watched the man turn his back on you, approaching the small metal cart to his left and picking up a small scalpel. He examined it as he spoke. 

“This isn’t personal.” Zemo muttered. “I have no quarrel with what you are trying to do. It’s how you have decided to do it. Super soldiers should not be allowed to exist. I have spent years trying to end the super soldier line and I won’t stop until my work is finished.” 

“Until we are all dead.” You corrected him. 

“Not all.” Zemo shook his head. “You may still have a chance of survival after all this.” 

“To live whilst the people I care for are dead? That isn’t a chance I want to take.” 

“You may care for them but I am certain they don’t care for you. Your so-called comrade left you alone in the tunnels despite your cries about trouble. Your death means nothing to them.” Zemo finally looked back at you. “You were a sacrifice they were willing to make.” 

You were hesitant to answer. You knew Deedee had only left because you had commanded her to. The team must all be sat around now wondering where you were, wondering how to get you back and if you are still alive. They wouldn’t just leave you. Karli wouldn’t leave you. 

“How can you expect me to give up any information if I know you’re just going to murder them if you find them?” You catechised Zemo. 

“Murder is a strong word. Would you say you murdered those innocent people in Vilnius?” Zemo’s mention of Vilnius made your stomach twist tighter. Nausea began to creep up on you and Zemo noticed the paling of your complexion. “Everybody has a breaking point. We just have to find yours.”

AN: NEW PART NEXT WEEK! Ask to be added to the taglist to keep up to date with all new parts!

Taglist  

@cathrin2405 @serenityfirefly97 @shannon-posts @dxnxdjarxn @hiddlepiddlediddlewiddle @trelaney  @sierrabaltzer  @daydreamer-in-training @e-barba @ornella0910 @natty13 @bry-97 @cherieweasley @kermuddgen @madelyn-barnes @jaxcliffaconda @candicerace @mo320 @takacsgram @hiccup005 @viviace @fillechatoyante @sapphiredreamer26 @misssilencewritewell @caligrl1992 @bbakugaan03 

[watchingspnagain]

Rewatching Folsom Prison Blues

Welcome to “‘Always be a good boy, don’t ever play with guns’: A Supernatural Rewatch Blog” with Lor and Mace!

 Up today, s2e19: Folsom Prison Blues

  The boys get themselves caught and put in the clink on purpose to investigate some strange deaths happening behind the bars. And yep, it's a ghost. The ghost and the deaths are good and creepy (not to mention our own DeanDean coming in for a near-death-by-ghost-squeezing-his-heart scene), but what makes this one so intense is how much Sam and Dean risk with this incarceration stunt - they come near to being caught by our friend Victor. They also look better than any human has a right to in orange.

 Below is a log of our real-time reactions as we watched. Remember that there may be spoilers for any part of SPN’s 15-season run here. Note also that the nature of our conversation is adult and thus it may contain adult language and themes.

 [and we begin:]

 Lor:

omg Dean on the phone with Victor. the TREMBLING

 Mace:

YES

I get SO nervous for them when they go up against The Law

Lor:

YES

even though I know EXACTLY how this one comes out, I always get SO NERVOUS. WHAT IF THEY GET STUCK IN THERE

 Mace:

RIGHT?!?!

WHY DO THEY DO THIS TO US?!

 Lor:

cause they are MEAN

 Mace:

THEY ARE

this prisoner is the insane vampire that Buffy has to fight when the council makes Giles take her powers away for the test

 Lor:

YES

I KNEW we just saw him on Buffy not too far back but I couldn't remember what it was

 Lor:

poor Randall

 Mace:

 poor Randal

 Lor:

lol

 Lor:

maybe if this guard weren't such a peckerhead he wouldn't GET ghost killt

 Mace:

it’s possible, yes

 Mace:

 you steal those artifacts, boys, and the Chumash tribe will give your penises diseases

 Lor:

SNORK

 Lor:

omg the MUGSHOTS

 Mace:

 I love that he’s watched Zoolander

 Lor:

oh is he quoting Zoolander?

I've never seen it

 Mace:

 we ALL think you’re adorable, Dean

 Lor:

WE DO

 Mace:

 Blue Steel is the Zoolander look

 Lor:

I love that they were getting caught on purpose but then Victor shows up and it's WHOOPS

 Mace:

 FRECKLES

 Lor:

YES

 Mace:

 YEP

 Lor:

oh Victor

 Mace:

 this poor guy has no idea that the only reason he caught them was because they wanted to be caught

 Lor:

YEP

 Lor:

awww but Dean and Victor weren't done flirting with each other

 Mace:

snork

 Mace:

 his little “okay"

 Lor:

lol Dean

 Lor:

YES

 Mace:

 oh SAMMY

 Lor:

YES

 Lor:

the look he's giving Dean

 Mace:

 YES

 Lor:

"long storied career of dumb and crazy"

dont you DARE mar that face with a teardrop tattoo

 Mace:

 YES

 Lor:

good boy, Dean. I like your thinking

 Mace:

YES

 Mace:

 not that I don’t like the idea of tattoos on either of them, but yeah, no, not on the face

 Lor:

correct. anywhere else is fine

 Mace:

 i love the idea of one peaking out of their shirts and a little up their necks…

 Lor:

YAAAAAS

 Lor:

I love that Dean just eats the food and Sammy is picky. feels correct for their childhoods

 Mace:

it very much does

THE WINK

 Lor:

"trust me. let it go" nnnnngggggg

 Mace:

 DED

 Lor:

AND THEN THE WINK

 Lor:

DED WITH YOU

 Mace:

and then his absolute competence with the fighting

ded a second time

 Lor:

YAAAAAS

 Lor:

"we having fun yet?"

 Mace:

 ah, the universal sign for “you’re dead”

 Lor:

and Sammy's face when the other prisoner does the "you're dead" thing. like he's just kind of DONE

 Mace:

Drax should be watching

 Mace:

 YES

 Lor:

YES

 Lor:

Lucas is not listening to him

 Mace:

 not he isn't

 Lor:

i kind of love this public defender

 Mace:

 YES

 Lor:

and you're lucky she didn't beat you with that briefcase, Victor

 Lor:

"all right. bad icebreaker" I love you, Sammy

 Mace:

 YES

 Lor:

"cause I got an idiot for a brother" "that'll do it"

 Mace:

 HAHAHA FUNNY CUZ IT’S TRUE

 Lor:

YEP

I LOVE HIM

 Mace:

 YES

 Lor:

"he did everything but yell boo"

 Mace:

 HOW do they look so good in those jumpers?!

 Lor:

RIGHT?

  Lor:

WHO LOOKS GOOD IN ORANGE?

 Lor:

NO ONE

 Lor:

except the Winchesters

 Mace:

 you got that right

 Lor:

the swiping the salt while walking past it

 Mace:

I mean. I just want to cuddle Sammy in that thing

 Mace:

 YES

 Lor:

I also kind of like the shoes? and I mean, WHY?

 Mace:

 HAHAHA YES

 Lor:

lying down with crossed arms and ankles, I CANNOT

 Mace:

YES

 Mace:

 aw, Tiny, hon

 Lor:

yeah

 Lor:

poor Tiny

 Mace:

yeah

 Mace:

i got distracted by Dean’s lovely agony face

 Lor:

RIGHT?

 Lor:

that boy WEARS a bruise

 Lor:

is a bad person

 Mace:

 YYAASSS right there with you

 Lor:

"I earned these" in his soft little voice

 Lor:

SOMEONE LOVE THAT BOY AND HOLD HIM FOREVER

 Mace:

 and HOW is Sammy’s hair THAT GOOD in jail?!

  Lor:

RIGHT?

 Mace:

 YES

 Lor:

my GOD Dean's ARMS

 Mace:

Sam. Dean fits in everywhere and belongs nowhere. what show have you been watching?

 Mace:

 YES

 Lor:

RIGHT?

 Lor:

come on, Sammy, pay attention

 Lor:

and switching gears, MARA'S FINGERS

 Mace:

 OMG YES

 Lor:

RIGHT?

 Lor:

short painted nails. LOVE THEM

 Mace:

YES

 Mace:

 better on a man, but still

 Lor:

yeah

 Lor:

"you are beating the holy hell out of me, man"

 Mace:

 HA

 Lor:

"you wanna have this fight for real, Dean?"

 Mace:

 “GUYS!” “WHAT?!”

 Lor:

YES

 Mace:

 Daddy didn’t do anything right - Dean raised himself and Sammy right

 Lor:

omg the little grin when he says “where do you want it"

 Lor:

RIGHT?

 Mace:

 YES

 Lor:

Dean is just a miracle of nature and the love he got in the first four years and Sam is ALL Dean

 Mace:

 YEP

 Lor:

i really don't think she did anything wrong?

 Mace:

 she didn’t

 Lor:

she seems like she thinks she did

 Lor:

maybe just because it seems that it did have something to do with them getting out? or maybe she's just letting Victor see what he wants to see

 Mace:

I think maybe she’s playing the part of guilty to throw victor off the idea that she’s gonna lie to him

 Mace:

 YES

 Lor:

YES

 Lor:

this fake out with the cemetery is so great

 Mace:

 it really is

 Lor:

bounces the next one is one of my very favorite episodes!

[ohmystars-marvel]

So...you’re mine, huh? pt. 2

Pairing: Tony Stark x daughter!reader; Peter Parker x reader (eventually)

Word count: 1,798

Summary: When your mother passes, she wrote in her will if she passed when you were still a minor, guardianship would get passed to Tony Stark. You have no idea what their relationship was, despite both of them living their lives in the spotlight. However, for someone who lived in the spotlight, your mother held plenty of secrets.

A/N: So um.....surprise!!! It’s finally here!!!!! I’m sososoSO sorry ;_; life’s been kind of rough and since I’ve been in uni it’s been hard to actually get time for myself, but I’ve finally actually gotten the time to sit down and write it out. I’m sorry it’s not that long, but I promise I won’t ghost like that again, but without further ado, here’s chapter 2!

(Also credits to owner of gif)

~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~

The funeral felt like everything was moving in slow motion. A couple of people came up to talk about (Y/M/N), and Tony noticed how whenever the people at the podium would give you a pitying glance in between their eulogies. The older man that was seating with you earlier isn’t sitting up front with you. He sits in a row behind you, leaving you all by yourself in the front. Tony also noticed how stoic you appeared to look. You sat with your head tall, your hair styled out of your face, tightly and professionally, evenly squared shoulders; the perfect sitting posture. 

A couple of people near him whispered about you. Some admired how composed you looked, just like your mother. Some whispered that you looked like you didn’t care that your mother passed, you just cared for the money that you were inheriting. Selfish brat someone whispered around Tony. 

She inherits all that her mother worked for without having to put any work ethic in

She isn’t going up to talk at her mother’s funeral? 

She does take after her mother after all..couldn’t give a care less that her parents died, why wouldn’t her daughter act the same way now? 

In Tony’s opinion, you didn’t look composed and neither looked like you didn’t care. You looked like a kid who was trying to hold it together in a room full of adults in order to be perceived as an adult. A child trying to act far more mature than their actual age.

When the funeral was over, people started getting up to either talk to you, or to talk to others around them. Disgusted with how people talked about you while a funeral was taking place, Tony walked over to talk to you instead. Besides, he felt that he needed to get to the bottom of how the hell (Y/M/N) (Y/L/N) had a kid he knew nothing about. He also wanted to figure out whose kid you were. No kid should have to get through their only parent’s funeral alone.

When Tony walked over, you were finishing a conversation with one of the guests. Tony stuck his hand, reaching for a handshake. You accepted his handshake, and surprised him when it was a solid, firm one. Guess (Y/M/N) did teach you well.

“Ms. (Y/L/N). We haven’t had the chance to meet, and I wish it was under better circumstances. I’ve known your mother since we were children, and I know what a devastating loss it is now that she’s gone. I know you’re hearing this phrase more often than you’d like to right now, but please know when I say that if you ever need help, please do come to me. Stark Tower or Avengers Headquarters, you'll be accepted anywhere there.”

“Thank you, Mr. Stark. That’s very kind of you. I as well wish that we could’ve met under better circumstances. You’re kind of my hero, honestly. The advancements you’ve made with arc reactor technology is amazing.” (Y/N) admitted shyly, while sporting a small smile.

Tony analyzed your face. Jesus, it was like Tony was thrown back in time. I looked so much like your mother when she was much younger. That’s where the similarities stopped though. Your shy demeanor and politeness were honest reactions, no acting involved. Your eyes were also different from (Y/M/N)’s. (Y/M/N) looked at everyone like a certain degree of coldness, keeping people at a distance. Yours were gentle, inviting. There’s no way this kid can be hers. She’s nothing like her. 

“Mr. Stark,” you interrupted his thoughts, “I’m only telling a select group of people who actually knew my mother well. We told the public the coroners haven’t signed off yet. That, however, isn’t true, and we'll be doing a more private service. I want to give enough time for the press to leave, and for people who my mother claimed that ‘actually cared for her money, not her well-being to leave’. I’d like it if you were to join us.”

“Please, call me Tony. I’ll be there, Ms. (Y/L/N), don’t worry. Gives us all the chance to actually give your mother the goodbye that she deserves, don’t you think?”

You blinked at him, an expression of shock that briefly broke your composure. “Of course, Mr-” she caught herself when Tony smirked at her, and she smiled sheepishly. “sorry. Tony. It’s going to take me awhile. There’ll be an announcement that’ll be given for the burial service so please, stick around and chat. Please excuse me, I’ve got to greet the others who came as well. It was a real pleasure to meet you, Tony.” She bid him a small smile and left him standing by himself. 

When you left him, Tony went to grab himself a cup of water. While sipping on his water, the older man that sat next to you before the funeral approached Tony. 

“Mr. Stark, it’s a great pleasure to meet you. Though, I wish I would be meeting you right now at something like the Stark Expo.” 

Tony didn’t respond, but took another sip to avoid the small talk that the man was trying to achieve. The man cleared his throat. 

“Right then. Mr. Stark, I’m Philip Ashcraft, (Y/M/N)’s lawyer. Could we step out in the hallway and talk? (Y/M/N) left something important to you, and the both of us would very much rather have this conversation where someone can’t overhear.”

“You find a hallway during a private funeral? Let me guess, you wanna suggest the coat closet next? I mean I guess we can meet in there, but you have to promise no playing seven minutes of heaven-”

“Mr. Stark, please. It’s of the utmost importance.”

“Why don’t you take this up with my secretary, Mr. Ashcraft? They can schedule a meeting with you within this next week. After all, I am not in the mood to discuss business right now, considering that we’re currently at a funeral.” Tony took a sip of his water, raising an eyebrow at the lawyer.

“This isn’t something that can be pushed away! Mr. Stark, this is in regards to what (Y/M/N) has left for you, and her will states for you to receive her last wishes as soon as the funeral’s over.”

Tony sighed. “In case you haven’t noticed, (Y/M/N)’s funeral is not over. If whatever (Y/M/N) left for me is that important, then you can wait until after the burial service is over. That’s when the funeral is over and that’s when you will have my attention. Until then, kindly fuck off.”

The lawyer swallowed, clearly trying to keep his temper, and walked away, begrudgingly. Victorious, Tony walked away from the water pitcher and found himself an empty corner that no one else would bother him. Besides, he had some homework to start before (Y/M/N)’s burial service started. If he didn’t know anything about (Y/N) (Y/L/N)’s existence, then how much did the rest of the world know about you?

Tony pulled his phone out of pocket, and pulled it close to his face, pretending like he was taking a phone call. “F.R.I.D.A.Y. I need you to do something for me really quick.” 

“What do you need, boss?”

“Look for anything in regards to (Y/N) (Y/L/N). I don’t care if it’s newspaper clippings, science fair photos, or even a mugshot. Anything that just proves her existence.”

“Looking online now. I’ll check back in with you when my analysis online is complete.”

“Thanks, F.R.I.D.A.Y.” Tony mumbled to himself. He put his phone back in his pocket and decided to wait out the thirty minutes by himself.

******

Tony watched as time passed and those that were clearly not invited or were exhausted from trying to butt into (Y/N)’s business left the room. Tony saw that besides himself, you, that asswipe of a lawyer, and approximately two other people were invited to the service. He noticed that the one who told him who you were wasn’t included in the group. For some reason, that didn’t sit well with him.

The burial service went by just as smoothly as the service given inside. Tony noticed that when you placed flowers on the headstone, your eyes were glassy. So this was the group you allowed yourself to be vulnerable with, not terribly vulnerable, but enough to know that this clearly affected you. When the service finished, the two others were conversing with you, one holding one of your hands as you wiped your eyes delicately, clearly still trying not to cry. That’s the time that the lawyer decided to act. He put a hand on your shoulder, and whispered something in your ear. You nodded and went back to listening. The lawyer made his way to Tony, and opened his mouth to speak, but Tony beat him to the punch.

“Alright, bug-a-boo, now we can talk.” 

“Do you mind if we talk inside, Mr. Stark? I am required to have your signature.”

Tony sighed and made an after you gesture with his hand. “Christ, what is it that (Y/M/N) left behind that is so goddamn important that you have to dump on me at a funeral and require me to sign?” 

Ashcraft clenched his jaw, and opened the door to the funeral home and stalked into the room where the public service was held, Tony close behind. Ashcraft unlocked his briefcase, which held an envelope that was thick with papers. He pushed it into Tony’s hand with plenty of force.

“The thing that (Y/M/N) is ‘dumping’ on you is her child. She left guardianship claims on (Y/N) to you, Mr. Stark” Ashcraft said bitterly.

Tony hurried to open the envelope. There’s no way. There’s no fucking way you actually left your kid to him. It’s gotta be some kind of a joke. At least, that was what Tony tried to convince himself before he found a handwritten will that was in your handwriting. The last sentence is what made his heart drop in his chest.

In the case of my passing before (Y/N) can legally care for herself, I leave guardianship rights to Anthony Edward Stark.

Tony’s phone buzzed in his pocket. F.R.I.D.A.Y.’s search had been completed, and only included one document. Tapping on the document, it opened into a scan of your birth certificate. What drew Tony’s attention was the name that was entered for the father’s name. Tony softly scoffed to himself.

“So...you’re mine huh?”

[writing-red]

The Daughter of the Dog | 1

Fred Weasley x SirusBlacksDaughter!Reader

Summary: That fateful night that would wrongfully land him in Azkaban Sirius Black left his three-year-old daughter at the door of her godfather, Remus Lupin. Now as she enters her fifth year at Hogwarts she is a-fronted by her peers and their outward fear of her presence.

Warnings: bullying, cussing, slow burn relationship, bullying, asshole teachers (Snape.)

Word Count: 4.3k

A/N: If y’all like this I’ll continue on with this :)

chapter one, chapter two

“Remus you can’t make me go to school this year. Everyone there already hates me, and now that dad is all over the Daily Prophet, it’ll all just be worse,” you made your case to your godfather for the hundredth time this summer since your father had broken out of Azkaban.

“Y/n, you have friends who will have your back,” Remus said, he felt terrible, and he knew you were right, but he also knew how important it was for you to be at Hogwarts. “I’ll be there, and Dumbledore and McGonagall will make sure nothing happens.”

“Gryffindor’s aren’t as nice as you think they are,” you retorted. “And I do not have friends, that’s a joke. Everyone despises me, even some of my bloody professors hate me,” you were particularly referencing Snape who’d had it out for you since your name had been called for sorting your first year.

“That’s impossible, of course, you have friends, what about the twins?” he asked, and you ignored him. It was true that you were close with Fred and George, but you felt that virtually everyone other than those two Weasley’s hated you.

“I’m glad you, dad, and Uncle James were just so popular when you went to school, and everyone just bloody loved you, but it isn’t the same for me,” you said, finally deciding you were done with the argument and storming upstairs, you knew that Remus wasn’t going to budge about his decision, but you’d put up as much of a stink as you could, and being that September 1st was only a week away you figured your case had failed.

Remus let you storm out, you were fifteen, and he understood that you were going through a lot. Not only were you a teenager and dealing with all of the joys of puberty, but you were the daughter of an assumed murderer, which couldn’t make school much fun. He could only imagine the ways your peers used that to torment you. He couldn’t forget the minuscule things James and Sirius would agonize Severus Snape over when they had been in school. On top of all that, twelve years ago, your father had left you on Remus’ doorstep with a note on your forehead that read:

‘Peter rated out James and Lily, I’m going to Godrics Hollow, if anything happens, take care of Y/n, she doesn’t have anyone else.’

He was right, your mother had died at the hands of Lucius Malfoy before your first birthday, and her parents had died long ago, Sirius didn’t want you anywhere near his parents, neither Sirius nor your mother had living siblings, and Remus was your only named Godparent. You grew up with both of your parents, and all of your family ripped away from you. You had been left only with good memories of the man the world was trying to tell you was evil and a note you had used as evidence of his innocence.

Despite everything, Remus didn’t mind having you around in the least, you were a carbon copy of your parents, just an absolute firecracker, and he loved you just as much as your parents had. While he anticipated his situation to be a problem it wasn’t, as whenever necessary, Molly Weasley would take you in for however long Remus needed. However, your third year, you took a page out of your father’s book, and while at school, you learned how to become an animagus on your own, so that when you returned home that summer, you were able to stay with your godfather though all of his sessions, and help. Remus found as you grew up that you took care of him as much as he took care of you, he was eternally grateful to have you in his life. Now, with everything going on in your life and all the trauma you had ensued, he couldn’t blame you for lashing out. He just wished he could be of more help.

You didn’t argue with Remus about going to school again, and on August 31st, you begrudgingly packed up your trunk in anticipation of your journey to Hogwarts. You and Remus lived in a house you had inherited from your mother in Burford, West Oxfordshire, it was far enough outside town to be safe for Remus, and it was protected with old magic as it had been in your family for centuries. Being that it’s only over an hour-long drive to London, Remus usually drove you to King’s Cross, but since he was going with you to Hogwarts this year, you both took an early train to London, arriving in perfect time to catch the Hogwarts Express.

When you boarded the train, you split ways with Remus as you were due in the prefect compartment so that you could do your rounds. Prefect duty was another thing you were dreading this year, you were sure that no one would be willing to listen to you considering your situation, and you genuinely had no clue why Professor McGonagall wanted you as a prefect anyways.

During your round, you found that your assumptions were correct, no one would listen to you, and you only found yourself getting angry every time you noticed a copy of the Daily Prophet with your father’s mugshot on the cover. He hadn’t aided in the murder of your Uncle James and Aunt Lily, he hadn’t a reason to, James had been his best friend. Not only that, but nobody knew half the story you and Remus knew, but of course, no one wanted to listen to you, and the only evidence you had was the note he had left on your forehead, which was, of course, deemed unreliable. You were sure Peter was out there somewhere, and you were optimistic that if you could find him, you would be able to clear your father’s name, but you had no clue where you could start.

You past by the compartment Harry, Ron, and Hermione frequented to find your godfather sleeping in the corner, that man did love his naps, although you were curious why they had chosen to sit in a compartment with a sleeping professor in it, but you brushed it off. The three had a knack for making odd decisions that never failed to land them into trouble of some sort.

You continued walking down the corridor, keeping to yourself, not finding anyone to be breaking any severe rules. You had decided that as a prefect, your policy would be that if it wasn’t happening in front of you, you wouldn’t report it. After experiencing Percy Weasley’s tyrannical rain, the last thing you wanted was to subject other students to such tyranny. You remained in your thoughts till you passed by Draco Malfoy’s compartment, where the door was wide open.

“Oi! Black!” You heard Malfoy yell as you approached his compartment. “Surprised, they let you come this year considering your murderer father is loose.”

You elected to ignore him and continue walking, biting back the insults you wanted so badly to throw back.

“Or I guess you’re nothing like your father, more the chicken type like your pathetic moth-”

You swung around, resisting the urge the pull your wand out and land a nasty jinx on the prick, “You’re one to speak Malfoy, considering your father is a cowardly murderer who hides behind money and lies. Now, if you want to lose another twenty points from Slytherin before we even arrive at Hogwarts, I suggest you keep running your mouth,” you said without breaking a sweat, silence from Malfoy and his posse following. “I thought so,” you said before continuing on your round.

You made it to the end of the train and turned around to do your final walkthrough you intended to stop into the section Remus was in and see if he had awoken. As you walked down the corridor, you noted the cold fog that rolled alongside the train, the ride to Hogwarts was rarely this cold. As you approached the compartment door, the train came to a screeching halt, and you were thrown up against the door, startling its occupants. You hurried to your feet and entered as Harry Potter opened the door.

“What’s going on?” Ron Weasley asked. You stood back against the door as the lights in the train flickered out.

“I know just as much as you do,” you said, trying your best to push aside any fear.

From his seat, Harry was giving you a weird look. Meanwhile, Ron pressed himself against the window that had begun frosting.

“Ouch, Ron, that was my foot,” Hermione complained.

Ron ignored his clumsiness, concerned with whatever he saw outside the train, “There’s something moving out there.”

With that, the lights turned on and then off again, the train rocking and ice encapsulating the carriage. No longer trusting your own legs, you rushed to take a seat on the bench Harry and Remus were on, though you kept your distance, still grimly aware of the rumours that had been flying around the train regarding your father. Although, your thoughts were stopped as the train halted again, and your breath turned to ice.

“Bloody hell! What’s happening?” Ron cried.

All of your heads turned to the carriage’s door as a lanky robed creature with a hand like that of a skeleton’s slowly eased opened the door. As it approached, you could feel nothing but true sadness echo through your body and mind. It was a coldness you felt would never leave you. The thing you recognized as a dementor entered, looming off of the ground and ignoring everything but you and Harry. The dementor paused as if unsure of which one of you was worth its time. Discerning what was happening and uncertain of what else to do, you rose to your feet to act as a barrier between Harry and the dementor. As a result of your action, and your misery now clear to the creature, it started to feed off of you. At some point, you saw a blast of bright light, but the second it and the dementor disappeared, your fainted, falling to the floor.

“Y/n, Harry?” you heard Hermione’s voice as your eyes flickered open. “Professor are they going to be alright?”

You rose to a seated position to find yourself lying on the floor, Harry on the bench above you, Ron crunched in his corner, a very concerned Hermione Granger hovering over you, and Remus ready with a bit of chocolate as always.

“Here, eat this, it’ll help,” he said as he offered you and Harry the chocolate which you graciously took.

“What was that thing that came?” Harry asked.

“It was a dementor, one of the guards of Azkaban,” He explained to Harry before looking at you, “It’s gone now,” he assured before turning back to Harry to finish answering his question. “It was searching the train for Sirius Black.”

You swallowed your bite of the chocolate quite loudly, uncomfortable with the information at hand.

“Now, if you’ll excuse me, I need to have a little word with the driver,” Remus rose, leaving the chocolate bar with you. “Eat, you’ll feel better.” Remus assured Harry before leaving and heading to the front of the train.

You broke the chocolate bar in half and gave it to Harry, “It does help.”

“Harry fainted just after you did,” Hermione explained. You had quickly noticed before fainting that the dementor didn’t affect Ron or Hermione half as much as it had you and Harry.

“What exactly happened?” Harry asked as he took a bite of the chocolate.

“Well, after Y/n fainted, you went rigid, we thought you were having- well a fit or something,” Ron explained.

“Dementors feed on feelings of depression and despair,” you explained.

“Is that why-”

“You felt like you could never be happy again?” you finished Ron’s thought and nodded. “Exactly.”

“But someone was screaming,” Harry said, the memory alive in his eyes. “A woman.”

“No one was screaming, Harry,” said Hermione.

“I heard screaming too,” you said, looking over at him. A silence settled over the carriage once more, causing the reality of your parentage to come crashing over you yet again. You shakily rose to your feet, not exactly well just yet. “I should be going- prefect, duty- let me know if you need anything else.” And before anyone could protest, you were out of the compartment and walking back down the train corridor.

Before you could very much think about it, you entered Fred and George’s compartment, quite unsure of where else you might have been welcome.

“Y/n!” The twins chimed when you entered.

“Sit,” Fred started

“Yeah,” George said.

“We’ve got a question for you,” they finished together.

“A question, for me? Now, what would that be?” You asked as you squeezed onto the bench in between the two despite the empty one just across from you. Although, you assumed Lee Jordan had been sitting there and was just off to use the loo as his bag was up above that spot.

“We’ll show you, but you’ve got to promise us you won’t show anybody,” George said as he pulled something out of his pocket.

“Anybody,” Fred echoed.

“I won’t show anybody, promise,” You spoke in the same playfully serious tone as the twins while George placed a blank piece of folded parchment onto your lap.

Fred placed the tip of his wand onto the map but caught your eye and held eye contact with you as he said, “I solemnly swear I am up to no good,” winking at you as he finished.

Before you maroon lines and lettering unfurled, curling onto the parchment.

‘The Marauders Map’

A smile found its way onto your face as you realized what was before you. Your eyes lighting up as they followed the script that started to write out names you recognized instantly.

‘Moony, Wormtail, Padfoot & Prongs are proud to present,’

Your smile widened, you knew exactly what this was. Remus had told you plenty of stories of his and your fathers’ school antics, and the Marauders Map was often mentioned.

“Now, Black,” said George.

“That smile seems to say something,” said Fred.

“We’ve got a feeling,” they continued in unison. “That you know who created this masterpiece.”

You looked up at the two of them, your smile not at all lost. “What’s it to you?” you asked. Of course, you knew, but you loved messing around with them.

“Pure curiosity,” Fred smirked.

“Even if I do know who Moony, Wormtail, Padfoot, and Prongs are, why should I tell you two?” You asked.

“Because you looove Fred,” George said, and you shot him a glare that easily could have killed him right where he sat. “Because we’re your favorite people at Hogwarts?” He said, quick to edit his sentence.

“Alright, but I want you to let me in on all of your pranks this year. Think about the benefits of having a prefect on your side,” you said, then smoothly leaning forward to allow the twins to deliberate in peace. They caught on in a matter of seconds.

“She’s not wrong,” started Fred, and he rested back against the seat.

“And she’s quite smart,” continued George, following his twin.

“And she has information we want.”

“And you do love her,” George teased his twin.

“And we can trust her,” Fred added in an attempt to ignore George’s jab at his long-standing crush.

“Alright then,” the twins said in harmony, and you all resumed your previous positions. “Who is it?” They asked you.

“Peter Pettigrew,” you started. “Remus Lupin, James Potter,” they breathed in, obviously not having expected to hear the name of Harry’s dad. “And Sirius Black.” You said, your chest swelling with pride.

“Your dad!” started Fred excitedly

“Was a marauder?” They asked at once, and you nodded.

“Well, that makes you pranking royalty,” George said and mocked a bow.

“I would say it does, now I am excited to be working with you two gentlemen this year.”

“We are honored to be in your presence, oh Queen of the Pranks,” Fred got off of his seat and turned to give you a proper bow, prompting another giggle from you, which you didn’t notice Fred blush bright red.

“Boys we have some work to do,” you said, offering your hand as you had seen Queens do before to Fred. He took your hand and gently placed a kiss on it, this time causing a soft blush to rise to your cheeks.

Your train ride continued to be full of playful banter between the four of you, the boys full of questions about your dad’s time at Hogwarts, and you were excited to answer them as best you could. Although in the end, you couldn’t help but be entirely grateful that Fred and George hadn’t written you off along with the rest of the school, even more thankful that they hadn’t also written off your dad. When you arrived at the school, you shared a carriage with the twins, Lee Jordan, and Angelina Johnson, none of whom seemed bothered by your presence. It appeared for the moment that this year wouldn’t be too bad. You expected to resume your spot on the quidditch team as a chaser along with those before you, and the pranks you had already begun planning with the twins occupied your mind.

“Welcome! Welcome to another year at Hogwarts!” Dumbledore caught the school’s attention as he assumed his place at the post at the top of the hall. “I have a few things to say before we become befuddled by our excellent feast. First, I’m pleased to welcome Professor R. J. Lupin, who has kindly consented to fill the post of Defense Against the Dark Arts. Good luck, you, Professor.”

At this, the twins turned their eyes from Dumbledore to you, clearly asking if that was the Lupin you had said to be Moony of the Marauders, to which you confirmed with one nod.

“Wicked,” they said in unison, and you winked at them.

“As some of you may know, Professor Kettleburn, our Care of Magical Creatures teacher for many years, has decided to retire in order to spend more time with his remaining limbs. Fortunately, I’m delighted to announce that his place will be taken by none other than our own Rubeus Hagrid!”

You, along with few others who knew and appreciated Hagrid, applauded at this news as Hagrid rose from his seat and jovially waved at the school, although he nearly toppled the staff table, sending goblets over the side of the table.

“Finally, on a more disquieting note, at the request of the Ministry of Magic Hogwarts will, until further notice, play host to the Dementors of Azkaban. Now, whilst I’ve been assured until such a time as Sirius Black is captured.”

Whispers filled the Great Hall as you swallowed the nerves that rose in your throat as best you could

“Well we’ve got his daughter right over there. Why don’t we just give ’em her! She’s probably a murderer herself!” You heard a boy from the Slytherin table yell quite violently. His idea was supported by a few cheers from those around him and a girl who was sitting next to him following up.

“Yeah, how are we supposed to know she isn’t scheming to sneak in her murderous father to kill us all!” The girl yelled, and you could only feel yourself sinking into the bench as every Hogwarts student’s eyes were now on you.

“Oi! Pucey, watch it, or I’ll hex your ear off!” George quickly stood and yelled in your defense.

“That! Is quite enough!” Dumbledore boomed. “I will not have Miss Black questioned or judged for her being here. Anyone who wishes to contest this may bring it up directly with me.”

With that, Dumbledore continued on with his speech in particular regard to the presence of the dementors, but his words respecting you did nothing to ease the anxiety boiling in the pit of your stomach. At this point, you were wondering why you hadn’t followed in your mum’s steps and gone to Beauxbatons.

“Are you alright?” Fred asked, noting the color that had drained from your face.

“I’m fine,” you muttered.

Fred could tell you weren’t fine, and why should you be? He could feel the hostile looks coming from every corner of the room, some even coming from the professor’s table. He wanted to help in any way he could, and he knew that the most he could do is have your back for the time being.

When Dumbledore finally called this year’s feast to an end, you rose to your feet as Percy had asked you and Robert Greene, the other fifth year Gryffindor prefect, to walk the first years back to the common room.

You rose to your feet, “Your darling brother has decided I’ll be escorting the first years back to the common room, so I’ll see you back there after?” You honestly did not want to be left alone tonight and was hoping to spend more time with the twins.

“We’ll find a good spot by the fire,” George said, and you smiled at him, grateful.

You left and rounded up the first years, some of whom had no clue who you were and some who were clearly afraid of you and clung to the front of the line where Percy and Robert were. But you brushed it off. It wasn’t half as bad as Pucey calling you a murderer in front of the entire school. The walk didn’t last long, and Percy capitalized the whole thing to flaunt his power over the eleven-year-olds allowing you to remain silent and with your thoughts. You split when you made it to the common room, sure that Percy was so wrapped up in his spiel that he wouldn’t miss you.

“Black!” George wailed. “We’ve missed you dearly.”

“How could you dare to leave us for so long?” Fred cried, and you giggled at their antics, sitting on the couch next to Fred.

“I’m very, incredibly, sorry for the time I have spent away but do know that you were each on my heart and in my thoughts the entire time we were apart,” you joined in, causing Fred to laugh, which brought a shade of pink to your cheeks, recently you found how his laugh made the butterflies in your stomach ruffle their wings.

“Anyone else wanna know why Dumbledore’s let a murderer’s daughter live in our dorm?” you heard Seamus Finnigan say loudly enough for the entire common room to hear. “It makes me feel unsafe I don’t know about you.”

“Yeah if he comes to Hogwarts, this’ll be the first place he comes.”

You sharply rose to your feet and turned to face Finnigan, “Actually you’re right Finnigan, I’ve been in contact with my dad, who has been in Azkaban my entire life, planning to come to a school and kill a bunch of children. I am so so bummed you’ve found out my plan. So everyone keeps an eye open while you’re sleeping. I might just appear over your bed in the middle of the night, ready to murder you.”

As you were speaking, Fred and George stood to defend you. Meanwhile, Seamus’s face fell white with fear at your words.

“Anyways aren’t you meant to be a Gryffindor, Finnigan, aren’t you meant to be brave? Because speaking behind people’s backs is about the most cowardly thing someone can do,” you said, anger rising in you. Although, you did not notice Professor McGonagall enter as you were talking.

“She deserves to be here just as much as the rest of you,” Fred boomed to the now silent common room.

“Good evening, everyone,” McGonagall cut in. “I was planning to come up tonight to ensure that Miss Black was being respected as a peer and as a prefect although that clearly hasn’t happened,” she said, shooting a look at Seamus Finnigan. “As she just said, it is expected that you as Gryffindors conduct yourselves with bravery and with understanding for your peers. Should any of you feel that you do not have to listen to or that you are above Y/n because of her parentage, you can come to me for a detention. I will not permit any intolerance of her presence. Is that understood?”

A few people started slowly nodding, causing the rest of your housemates to nod in understanding of what Professor McGonagall had to say.

“Good, now I will be taking ten points from our house for Mr. Finnigan’s comments,” a groan fell over the room, “You shall also be meeting me for detention in my office tomorrow night at seven. However, ten points to Miss Black and ten points to Mr. Weasley for standing up for oneself and for one’s friends.” With that, Professor McGonagall left, leaving the Gryffindors in silence.

“Go about your nights,” Percy called to the house, and everyone dispersed, although you heard the drama start to circulate, no matter what McGonagall said, you knew that you would never escape the judgement of your peers.

“Merlin, and classes haven’t even started yet,” you huffed as you collapsed back onto the couch next to Fred.

“We’ve got your back, Y/n,” Fred said as he put a comforting hand on your shoulder.

“Promise,” you implored.

“Promise,” he assured.

chapter two

[rebelwrites]

To Bail My Wife Out

Jax Teller x Reader

Lockdown at the club drove you crazy, everyone knew that. You had very little patience at the best of times and you may have busted Ima’s nose for chatting shit about your husband.

And to make things worse the guys were on a run and wouldn’t get back for another week.

“Baby go for a drive, clear your head before we have a body to hide” Gemma said kissing your head.

“But Jax is calling in like 20 and if I’m not here, well you know what he is like mom” you said rolling your eyes.

“You leave Jax to me baby” she smirked passing you your keys as you sparked your a smoke “go I don’t have the energy to dispose of a body today”

“Promise you will cover for me” You smirked inhaling the smoke.

“Yes now go you are starting to annoy me” she winked walking off blowing your a kiss.

“Don’t lie you love my crazy ass” you shouted.

“Just don’t get yourself killed” she said before closing the door behind you.

Strolling to your car unlocking it before tossing your smoke on the floor and climbing into your car. A smile formed on your face as you ran your hands over the steering wheel, disabling the immobiliser you started your beast hearing the engine erupted into life. Plugging your phone in you put your driving playlist on before backing out of your parking spot.

The prospect opened the gate and instantly putting your foot down speeding out of the lot.

The plan was just to drive until you didn’t want to kill Ima, the roads were clear so you sat in first gear until you red lined. That was your plan red line until the thrill of the speed drowned your thoughts out. And the whole time you had a grin on your face.

That was until you saw the flash of blue in your rear view mirror.

“Fuck” you mumbled glancing in the mirror again, it wasn’t Unser so you knew you were fucked. A smirk played on your face as you dropped a gear and left Hale for dust. You knew it was a bad idea but you didn’t care, this was a game to you.

After about 15 minutes you pulled up at the side of the road, turning your music off as Hale caught up with you, tapping on your window, one thing he didn’t look happy.

“Should have know it would be you Mrs Teller” he sighed.

Smirking as you revved the engine.

“Sorry can’t hear you over the exhaust” you shouted.

“Out of the car” he glared as you revved the engine again.

“I wasn’t doing anything” you said innocently as you undid your seatbelt.

“So that wasn’t you that when you saw I was on you, you sped up leaving me for dust” he said raising his eyebrow.

“Nope definitely not me officer” you shrugged killing the engine, grabbing your phone and smokes before climbing out the car. “How fast was I going anyway?”

“135” he sighed.

“Fuck no way” you smirked lighting a smoke “new personal best that”

“Fuck the formalities” Hale spat as he slapped the cuffs on “you are coming with me, and you are not getting out until your husband pays your bail”

That’s when you knew you had fucked up, there was no way you were telling Jax, not when he was out of town. Rolling your eyes at Hale as your smoke hung between your lips.

Resting your hands through the bars of the cell you watched the door.

“Come on lemme out you pricks” you shouted “Unser I know you are there so come on I did nothing wrong, I’m bored and hungry”

The doors opened and Unser walked over to you with Gemma behind him.

“I don’t call doing 135 nothing baby” Gemma laughed passing you a smoke.

“So am I being released or what?” You mumbled as you lit the smoke.

“Yeah about that” Gemma nodded “seems you pissed Hale off”

“And I always piss Hale off” you shrugged

“Which means he has set you bail at 3 and a half grand” Gemma said.

“And you are gonna pay it right?” You said leaning against the wall as she stayed quiet “you are paying it aren’t you mom?”

“Only if you tell Jax” she smirked knowing the answer.

“Nope Jax doesn’t find out about this” you said “you know as soon as he does bye bye car, speaking of my baby best be okay”

“You car is fine and is back at T M” Gemma nodded “but unless you tell Jax I’m not bailing you out, I told you to behave”

“No you told me not to get killed and I dunno I look pretty much alive to me” you huffed.

“Don’t start” she laughed sliding 3 packets of cigarettes through the bars with a lighter “see you in a week baby”

“Bitch” you shouted, rattling the bars making her laugh.

“Hey I just want peace and quiet” she winked, blowing you a kiss before disappearing.

“Well looks like you are stuck with me Wayne” you smirked, making him gulp.

“God help me” he said walking away from the cell “Gem you sure you aren’t bailing her out?”

And then it was all quiet. You knew what she was doing, and you knew you wouldn’t get out until Jax got home. Looking around the cell sighing, this was home for the next week.

Pulling his bike into his spot, a smile formed on his face as he saw your car parked in it’s usual manor. Abandoned and in the way.

He wanted nothing more than to pull you into his arms and just sleep, he found it a bit odd that you weren’t out front like you normally was. Brushing it off, you probably wasn’t feeling too great still.

Walking into the clubhouse with his brother behind him Gemma pulled him into a hug.

“Mom where’s my wifey?” Jax asked as he sparked up.

“Urm she got held up” Gemma nodded trying to figure out how to tell her son that you were in a cell and she didn’t bail you out.

“The bitch is in cell where she belongs after breaking my nose” Ima shouted, making Jax raise his eyebrow at his mom.

“What she do this time?” Jax laughed as he knew you were a rebel.

“Urm speeding, like 135 and passed Hale off a week ago” Gemma said

“Wait she got arrested a week ago and you didn’t bail her out” Jax hissed “the fuck mom”

“I told her I’d pay the 3 and a half g bail if she told you she got arrested but she didn’t want to tell you so” Gemma shrugged.

Jax slammed his beer on the counter pushing his way through the crowd.

“Where you going brother?” Tig asked.

“To bail my rebel wife out” He said rolling his eyes climbing on his bike.

“I like your pants around your feet” you sung at the top of your voice whilst running you lighter along the metal bars “And I like the dirt that's on your knees”

“Please Teller you are giving me a headache” Unser moaned as he laid on the bed in the open cell.

“Let me out and I will” you smirked, sparking a smoke and carried on singing “And I like the way you say please. While you're looking up at me”

You were too preoccupied annoying Wayne to see that Jax had walked in behind a female officer.

“Darlin’ I keep telling you, that lead foot of yours and that mouth would get you in trouble” Jax chuckled as he saw just how relaxed you were in the cell “yet you don’t listen”

Instantly you stopped singing when you heard the gravel of his voice, swinging your legs around you pushed yourself to your feet.

“Hey my gorgeous husband” you said innocently.

“Yeah sweet talking isn’t gonna work this time darlin’” he laughed leaning his arms through the bars.

“Not even if I suck your dick?” You pouted, giving him the puppy dog eyes and fluttering your lashes.

“I can’t leave you for any amount of time before you cause trouble can I?” He smirked.

“Nope” you grinned popping the p “now you gonna bail your wifey out of here or am I gonna have to keep singing?”

Instantly Unser was on his feet.

“Jax please take her she’s killing me here every day it’s a different nickelback song” Unser sighed “she’s given me a constant headache”

“Try being married to her” Jax winked making you pout.

“That’s it not gonna suck your dick now” you huffed.

“Come on Princess we both know that’s a lie” Jax smirked as Unser unlocked the cell.

Jumping into Jax’s arms, you wrapped your legs around his waist and pointed at the door.

“TO FREEDOM” you shouted.

“Please remind me why I married you?” Jax smirked as he walked out of the cells with you clinging to him like a koala bear.

“Duh because you love me” you giggled.

You wouldn’t let him put you down as he paid your bail, making him smile at how clingy you were being.

“Can I get a print out of my mugshot?” You asked “it’s going on the wall right next to Jax’s”

Ten minutes had passed and the bail had been paid, and your mug shot was safely in Jax’s kutte and you were heading out to his bike still hanging on like a baby koala.

Gently he placed you down on his bike, his hand cupping the side of your face.

“I missed you” you whispered leaning your head into his hand.

“I missed you too baby” he whispered pressing his lips against yours.

The kiss was slow and passionate, neither of you parting until your lungs were burning.

“What’s this about you breaking Ima’s nose aye” he whispered resting his forehead against yours.

“That’s a story for another day” you giggled “right now I just want my husband to take me home, and join me in the shower because I kinda stink”

“Yeah you do stink” Jax laughed lowly.

“You aren’t meant to agree asshole” you huffed.

“Come on my stinky rebel let’s go home”

[taechaos]

OoH, I was asking for jjk to be insecure and the oc comforting him. Sorry for not being specific 😣

I WILL BE WAITIN FOR IT!✨✨✨✨❤❤❤❤

oh thank god i stopped before i wrote the whole damn thing then 💀 no need to be sorry!! and i hope u enjoy 💕💕💕💕

Do you ever look at someone and wonder, what is going on inside their head? In past tense of course, because Taehyung doesn't know what was going on inside Jungkook's head when he chopped half of his hair off. He doesn't care to wonder for long either—he's too busy laughing his heart out at Jungkook's baby face while said man glares at him with pure hatred. It's been going on for ten minutes now, from the moment he sat down with the squad in the courtyard.

"Laugh it up, Taehyung," Jungkook seethes through clenched teeth, "you look like a fucking mental institution escapee, you absolute moron."

"I-I'm sorry," he says breathlessly, "but you look like a fucking twelve year old with piercings! Doesn't he?" The rest of the group can understand the comparison, though Jungkook doesn't look that young with the common haircut, but it baffles them why Taehyung is losing his shit over it.

"I think he looks fine," Seokjin shrugs.

"He actually looks better, to be honest," Namjoon agrees.

Taehyung blows raspberries in disbelief. "Yoongi, are you hearing this?"

"You're functioning on one brain cell," he deadpans and tunes out the rest of the discussion with his earphones.

"All I'm saying is, you didn't need to cut it so short," Jungkook's best friend defends.

"What was I supposed to do? Look like the Asian Jesus Christ?" Taehyung giggles at his response before gradually laughing his ass off at the image in his mind. Jungkook takes this as his cue to leave already and stands from the bench.

"Wha– where you going?" he asks through fits of laughter.

"I've had enough of your bullshit."

"I-I can't wait to hear what your girlfriend has to say about it!" he yells at his back, his voice fading in Jungkook's ears the farther he walks away.

It's all fun and games until Taehyung brings you into this. He was pretty confident with his new appearance before his friend basically sucked it out of him. He's aware that he was just joking around, but now he's weary of your reaction.

He blows at his dark brown bangs in frustration and decides against approaching you after your lecture. He needs his confidence back first.

————

Ending a day without seeing Jungkook once feelings wrong. Your interactions are digital because he refuses to meet with you by using every excuse in the book in every hour of the day that you ask. It's at midnight when you finally muster the courage to confront him.

You: did i do something wrong?? listen i know ur not studying

You: can u please just tell me why ur avoiding me

♡ the love of my life ♡: i'm literally texting u

♡ the love of my life ♡: how is that avoiding

You: u know what i mean!!

♡ the love of my life ♡: not really!!

You: :/

You: is it because of ur haircut?

♡ the love of my life ♡: what

You: taehyung asked me if i saw ur hair today and he couldnt stop laughing when i said no

♡ the love of my life ♡: u can see it on my mugshot after i kill that fucking cunt

You: im coming to ur dorm

♡ the love of my life ♡: no

♡ the love of my life ♡: no no no no

His protests fall on blind eyes and it's remarkable how fast you arrive in front of his door. You knock twice and a muffled voice says, "Not available!"

"Really?" you shriek incredulously. "I'm literally your girlfriend."

A different voice repeats the same words, and adds, "coming from someone who isn't your boyfriend." It's Seokjin, and you know for a fact that Jungkook forced him to say that.

"Jungkook," you groan and stomp your foot angrily. "This is childish! Come out this second."

And the door actually opens. "Jin! What the fuck?"

"I'll leave," he says and holds the door open for you. You rush inside before Jungkook can slam it in your face, and when he realizes he can't, he freezes like a deer caught in headlights.

The door clicks when it closes. You stare at him in awe and he gulps under the intensity.

He breaks the short silence with a groan, "I know I look like a twelve–"

"Oh my God," you cut him off, admiration written all over your face. He sinks into the mattress with a frown.

"Don't."

"You look so handsome!" you rush to his side to touch his fluffy hair that ends at his ears. You're used to his longer hair that ended above his shoulders, but this cut shows off his beauty so much better, similar to when you first met him. "I can't believe you were so shy about it."

"I wasn't shy! Taehyung just... Ugh!" he growls and falls on the bed. He can't even tell if you're just being nice or telling the truth at this point. "Listen, if you don't like it, you can just tell me."

"I love it so much," you straddle his waist to run your fingers through his hair again, absolutely enthralled by his appearance. He's reluctant to look at you, but when he does, he falls for the gleam in your eyes. You're practically beaming in your spot, "Is there anything you can't pull off?!"

Your gushing flusters him but he doesn't back down from your stare. He's more or less quizzical. "Do you actually like it?"

"It's gorgeous," you sigh, "I can't believe you were hiding it from me."

"Taehyung cried when he saw me."

You snort before cooing, "Don't take that idiot seriously. He's so rude... You have no reason to be insecure."

"Damn, kiss me then," he rolls his eyes. "When you were insec–" He smiles against your lips when you go through with it. You cup his cheeks before pulling away.

"You're perfect in every way, so don't hide from me again. Okay?"

"Uh-uh," he says absentmindedly and chases after your lips, which you grant easily. His confidence starts to show in his movements omce again.

[maxineswritingcenter]

You Saved Me - Derek Hale x fem!reader part 8

So some of the details I’m getting are coming from the Teen Wolf novel On Fire that was published in 2012. It basically gave backstory into some of the characters that we never really see in the show. Like is describes Scott’s father and describes him having an asthma attack. I really recommend it. You can find it online for under 10$ so it’s worth it. 

TW: Mentions of S*xual Abuse

————

After the game ended, everyone else was celebrating. Beacon Hills lacrosse had qualified for the state championships. I played along until I was able to slip away back into the school, seeing as Scott was doing damage control with Allison and Jackson. The players and Coach were long gone, I slipped into the locker room door just as it was closing. 

I pulled my phone out of my pocket and called Stiles’ phone, and to my amazement I heard Stiles' ringtone echoing in the dark.

“Oh thank god.” I sighed in relief, following the ringing, “I was so worried about-” I stopped, the phone slipping from my hands. There Peter stood with Stiles’ arm in his grip. Derek stood in the shadows behind him. 

“Now who is this little thing, nephew?” Peter tilted his head to the side. His face had been healed completely of burns, nothing remained. 

Derek kept his stern expression, not meeting my eyes, “(Y/N) (Y/L/N).” 

Peter hummed, “Really? I haven’t seen you since you were about yea high.” He placed his hand at his chest. 

“Let him go.” I glared at him, not fooling around with his pleasantries. He dropped Stiles' arm. 

“Certainly, at the lady’s request.” He grinned. Without breaking eye contact, I reached forward and grabbed Stiles arm, pulling him behind me. He struggled a little.

“Now is not the time to be the man, get behind me now.” He complied.

“What the hell…?” I heard Scott’s voice ring through the empty locker room.

“Scott, no-” I was cut off by Scott walking around the corner of the dark hall, a towel around his waist. His eyes landed on Derek. 

“Thank God! Where the hell have you been? Do you have any idea what’s been going on?” Our eyes darted towards Peter, and he finally saw him. 

Peter had picked up a crosse, looking over it in his hands, “I really don’t get lacrosse…”

Scott gasped, “It was you.”

“When I was in high school, we played basketball. There’s a real sport. Still, I read somewhere that lacrosse comes from Native American tribes, and that they played it to resolve conflict. Do I have that right?” No one answered, “Hmm… I have a little conflict of my own to resolve, Scott… But I need your help to do it.”

“I’m not helping you kill people.” Scott said firmly.

“Well, I don’t want to kill all of them– just the responsible ones. And that doesn’t have to include…” He looked back towards Derek. 

Derek sighed, “Allison.” 

“You’re on his side? Are you forgetting the part where he killed your sister?” Scott asked, incredulously. Took the words right out of my mouth. 

“It was a mistake…” He said the words, but I wasn’t sure if he even thought they were true. 

“What?” Scott asked, clearly shocked. 

“It happens…” Derek looked away.

“Just a werewolf thing, right?” I glared at him, he continued to find the floor more interesting. 

“I think you’re getting the wrong impression of us. We just really want to help you reach your full potential.” Peter set the crosse down. 

Scott scoffed, “By killing my friends?”

“Sometimes the people closest to you can be the ones holding you back the most.” He glanced towards Stiles and I.

“If they’re holding me back from becoming a psychotic nut-job like you, I’m okay with that.”

“Maybe” He walked up to Scott, I backed away with Stiles, “You could try and see things from my perspective…” He sunk his claws into the back of Scott’s neck. Scott groaned, and fell when Peter pulled his claws out. The alpha looked at me, wiping the blood off on his jeans. 

“You have potential as well. Mark my words, in the next few days you may realize there is more to you, (Y/N).” 

“I’d rather die.” I spat. Stiles grabbed my arm. 

“I guess we’ll just have to see.” Peter nodded to me, then walked out with Derek following behind. 

“Laura would be disgusted.” I glared at him. He paused, looking over his shoulder for a second, but continued on his path out the door. Once they were gone, Stiles pulled Scott by the shoulders and turned on the cold water. He gasped, breathing heavily. 

“Dude, we have a huge problem.” Stiles said. 

“Trust me… I know.”

-

After a confrontation with Jackson, Stiles and I drove home. There we found Uncle Noah at the kitchen table. There were papers and files spread all over and a bottle of whisky with a glass. 

“Whatcha doing?” Stiles asked.

“Work.” He slurred. 

“Anything we can help with?” He asked, so we came around the table to sit across from him. I looked at a paper. It was a report of the interview with Mr. Harris. 

“You know, if you poured me an ounce of whiskey, that would be awfully nice.” Uncle Noah closed his eyes, rubbing his temples. I took the time to take a picture of the statement, hiding my phone back in my pocket before he opened his eyes again. 

“Any leads?” Stiles asked, pouring the whiskey. 

“You know I can’t discuss that with you.” Stiles poured more into the glass, “Not too much!” 

Stiles slid the cup across the table, “Okay. There you go, Dad.”

“Thanks.”

“Bottoms up.” Stiles said, as we watched Uncle Noah down the whiskey.

 “You know, Derek Hale would be a whole hale of a lot-” He slurred and grunted, “Hale of a lot…?” 

“Hell of a lot?” Stiles corrected him 

“Hell… Yes… He would be a hell of a lot easier to catch if we could get an actual picture of him.”

“How do you not have a picture of him?”

“It’s the weirdest thing…” He slurred, “It’s like every time we tried to get a mugshot, it’s like two laser-beams were pointing at the camera.”

“Nice.”

“Oh, my God… Ohhh! God, that ounce hit me like a brick. And I have said way too much, and if you repeat any of that-” He warned, pointing to both of us.

“Dad, it’s us! We’re not gonna say anything. Come on!”

“See, the thing is, they’re all connected… I mean, the bus driver that got killed? He was an insurance investigator assigned to the Hale House Fire.” He pointed towards a paper.

“Terminated under suspicion of fraud.” Stiles read. 

“Exactly.”

“Who else?”

“The video store clerk who got his throat slashed? He’s a convicted felon– history of arson.” That was the attack that involved Jackson and Lydia. 

“What about the other two guys, the guys who got killed in the woods?” The two guys that Stiles saw in the woods when he got drunk with Scott. 

“Priors all over their records, including-”

“Arson. So, maybe they all had something to do with the fire…” Uncle Noah grumbled. Stiles wanted more info, “Another shot?”

“No, no, no. No more.” he slurred. 

“Dad, come on! You work really hard, all right? You deserve it.” It was enabling and wrong to get the sheriff drunk to get information out of him. The dots were all starting to connect. 

“Oh, my God… I’m gonna have such a hangover…”

“You mean you’re gonna have such a good night’s sleep!” He poured another shot for his dad. He looked at me, muttering out of the side of his mouth, “I’m gonna have an eternity in the lowest circle of hell…” I patted Stiles' arm.

“Let me know if he says anything else.” I whispered and came around the table, “Goodnight Uncle Noah.” 

“Goodnight, sweetie.” He called. 

I went into my room and connected my phone to my laptop so I could get a better look at the report. Stealing evidence was a crime, but I was already doing enough illegal things that I figured it would matter too much. I pulled up the picture and enhanced it the best I could. It was a transcription from Uncle Noah’s recorder. 

𝙱𝙴𝙶𝙸𝙽 𝚃𝚁𝙰𝙽𝚂𝙲𝚁𝙸𝙿𝚃 

𝙷𝙰𝚁𝚁𝙸𝚂: 𝙸𝚝 𝚠𝚊𝚜 𝚜𝚒𝚡 𝚢𝚎𝚊𝚛𝚜 𝚊𝚐𝚘, 𝚊𝚗𝚍 𝚒𝚗 𝚖𝚢 𝚍𝚎𝚏𝚎𝚗𝚜𝚎, 𝚒𝚝 𝚠𝚊𝚜 𝚋𝚎𝚏𝚘𝚛𝚎 𝙸'𝚍 𝚐𝚘𝚝𝚝𝚎𝚗 𝚜𝚘𝚋𝚎𝚛. 

 𝚂𝙷𝙴𝚁𝙸𝙵𝙵: 𝙻𝚒𝚜𝚝𝚎𝚗, 𝙸 𝚑𝚊𝚟𝚎 𝚖𝚢 𝚜𝚘𝚗'𝚜 𝚏𝚒𝚛𝚜𝚝 𝚕𝚊𝚌𝚛𝚘𝚜𝚜𝚎 𝚐𝚊𝚖𝚎 𝚝𝚘 𝚐𝚎𝚝 𝚝𝚘. 𝚆𝚑𝚊𝚝 𝚍𝚘 𝚢𝚘𝚞 𝚜𝚊𝚢 𝚠𝚎 𝚓𝚞𝚜𝚝 𝚏𝚘𝚌𝚞𝚜 𝚘𝚗 𝚝𝚑𝚎 𝚍𝚎𝚝𝚊𝚒𝚕𝚜, 𝚑𝚞𝚑?

 𝙷𝙰𝚁𝚁𝙸𝚂: 𝙸 𝚖𝚎𝚝 𝚑𝚎𝚛 𝚊𝚝 𝚊 𝚋𝚊𝚛. 𝚆𝚎 𝚑𝚊𝚍 𝚊 𝚕𝚘𝚝 𝚘𝚏 𝚍𝚛𝚒𝚗𝚔𝚜. 𝙰 𝚕𝚘𝚝. 𝚂𝚑𝚎 𝚜𝚝𝚊𝚛𝚝𝚎𝚍 𝚊𝚜𝚔𝚒𝚗𝚐 𝚖𝚎 𝚠𝚑𝚊𝚝 𝙸 𝚍𝚘, 𝚊𝚗𝚍 𝚜𝚑𝚎 𝚔𝚎𝚙𝚝 𝚊𝚜𝚔𝚒𝚗𝚐 𝚚𝚞𝚎𝚜𝚝𝚒𝚘𝚗𝚜. 𝙳𝚘 𝚢𝚘𝚞 𝚑𝚊𝚟𝚎 𝚊𝚗𝚢 𝚒𝚍𝚎𝚊 𝚠𝚑𝚊𝚝 𝚝𝚑𝚊𝚝'𝚜 𝚕𝚒𝚔𝚎? 𝚃𝚘 𝚑𝚊𝚟𝚎 𝚜𝚘𝚖𝚎𝚘𝚗𝚎 𝚊𝚌𝚝𝚞𝚊𝚕𝚕𝚢 𝚒𝚗𝚝𝚎𝚛𝚎𝚜𝚝𝚎𝚍 𝚒𝚗 𝚝𝚑𝚎 𝚝𝚘𝚙𝚒𝚌 𝚘𝚏 𝚌𝚑𝚎𝚖𝚒𝚜𝚝𝚛𝚢…𝙰𝚏𝚝𝚎𝚛 𝚜𝚝𝚊𝚛𝚒𝚗𝚐 𝚊𝚝 𝚊𝚕𝚕 𝚝𝚑𝚎𝚜𝚎 𝚟𝚊𝚌𝚊𝚗𝚝 𝚏𝚊𝚌𝚎𝚜 𝚍𝚊𝚢 𝚊𝚏𝚝𝚎𝚛… 

 𝚂𝙷𝙴𝚁𝙸𝙵𝙵: 𝙳𝚎𝚝𝚊𝚒𝚕𝚜. 

 𝙷𝙰𝚁𝚁𝙸𝚂: 𝙻𝚒𝚔𝚎 𝙸 𝚜𝚊𝚒𝚍, 𝙸 𝚝𝚊𝚕𝚔𝚎𝚍. 𝙸𝚝 𝚠𝚊𝚜 𝚏𝚊𝚜𝚌𝚒𝚗𝚊𝚝𝚒𝚗𝚐 𝚜𝚝𝚞𝚏𝚏. 𝙷𝚘𝚠 𝚢𝚘𝚞 𝚌𝚘𝚞𝚕𝚍 𝚖𝚎𝚕𝚝 𝚊𝚠𝚊𝚢 𝚝𝚑𝚎 𝚕𝚘𝚌𝚔 𝚘𝚏 𝚊 𝚋𝚊𝚗𝚔 𝚟𝚊𝚞𝚕𝚝. 𝙷𝚘𝚠 𝚢𝚘𝚞 𝚌𝚘𝚞𝚕𝚍 𝚍𝚒𝚜𝚜𝚘𝚕𝚟𝚎 𝚊 𝚋𝚘𝚍𝚢, 𝚊𝚗𝚍 𝚐𝚎𝚝 𝚊𝚠𝚊𝚢 𝚠𝚒𝚝𝚑 𝚖𝚞𝚛𝚍𝚎𝚛. 

 𝚂𝙷𝙴𝚁𝙸𝙵𝙵: 𝙷𝚘𝚠 𝚢𝚘𝚞 𝚌𝚘𝚞𝚕𝚍 𝚜𝚝𝚊𝚛𝚝 𝚊 𝚏𝚒𝚛𝚎 𝚊𝚗𝚍 𝚐𝚎𝚝 𝚊𝚠𝚊𝚢 𝚠𝚒𝚝𝚑 𝚊𝚛𝚜𝚘𝚗?

 𝙷𝙰𝚁𝚁𝙸𝚂: 𝙰𝚗𝚍 𝚊 𝚠𝚎𝚎𝚔 𝚕𝚊𝚝𝚎𝚛, 𝚝𝚑𝚎 𝙷𝚊𝚕𝚎 𝚑𝚘𝚞𝚜𝚎 𝚋𝚞���𝚗𝚜 𝚍𝚘𝚠𝚗. 

 𝚂𝙷𝙴𝚁𝙸𝙵𝙵: 𝚈𝚘𝚞 𝚔𝚗𝚘𝚠, 𝚢𝚘𝚞 𝚌𝚘𝚞𝚕𝚍 𝚑𝚊𝚟𝚎 𝚜𝚊𝚒𝚍 𝚜𝚘𝚖𝚎𝚝𝚑𝚒𝚗𝚐. 

 𝙷𝙰𝚁𝚁𝙸𝚂: 𝙰𝚗𝚍 𝚋𝚎 𝚊𝚗 𝚊𝚌𝚌𝚘𝚖𝚙𝚕𝚒𝚌𝚎? 𝙸𝚝 𝚠𝚘𝚞𝚕𝚍 𝚑𝚊𝚟𝚎 𝚎𝚗𝚍𝚎𝚍 𝚖𝚢 𝚝𝚎𝚊𝚌𝚑𝚒𝚗𝚐 𝚌𝚊𝚛𝚎𝚎𝚛. 

 𝚂𝙷𝙴𝚁𝙸𝙵𝙵: 𝚂𝚘 𝚢𝚘𝚞 𝚍𝚘𝚗'𝚝 𝚔𝚗𝚘𝚠 𝚑𝚎𝚛 𝚗𝚊𝚖𝚎 𝚘𝚛 𝚠𝚑𝚎𝚛𝚎 𝚜𝚑𝚎 𝚠𝚊𝚜 𝚏𝚛𝚘𝚖? 

 𝙷𝙰𝚁𝚁𝙸𝚂: 𝙽𝚘. 𝚆𝚑𝚒𝚌𝚑 𝚒𝚜 𝚎𝚡𝚊𝚌𝚝𝚕𝚢 𝚠𝚑𝚊𝚝 𝙻𝚊𝚞𝚛𝚊 𝙷𝚊𝚕𝚎 𝚊𝚜𝚔𝚎𝚍. 𝙸'𝚕𝚕 𝚙𝚘𝚒𝚗𝚝 𝚢𝚘𝚞 𝚒𝚗 𝚝𝚑𝚎 𝚜𝚊𝚖𝚎 𝚍𝚒𝚛𝚎𝚌𝚝𝚒𝚘𝚗 𝚝𝚑𝚊𝚝 𝙸 𝚙𝚘𝚒𝚗𝚝𝚎𝚍 𝚑𝚎𝚛. [𝚂𝚎𝚎 𝚎𝚟𝚒𝚍𝚎𝚗𝚌𝚎 #𝟸0𝟺]

 𝚂𝙷𝙴𝚁𝙸𝙵𝙵: 𝚆𝚑𝚊𝚝 𝚒𝚜 𝚝𝚑𝚒𝚜? 

 𝙷𝙰𝚁𝚁𝙸𝚂: 𝚃𝚑𝚎 𝚗𝚎𝚌𝚔𝚕𝚊𝚌𝚎 𝚝𝚑𝚎 𝚐𝚒𝚛𝚕 𝚠𝚊𝚜 𝚠𝚎𝚊𝚛𝚒𝚗𝚐. 𝚃𝚑𝚊𝚝'𝚜 𝚝𝚑𝚎 𝚜𝚢𝚖𝚋𝚘𝚕 𝚘𝚗 𝚒𝚝. 𝙸 𝚊𝚜𝚔𝚎𝚍 𝚑𝚎𝚛 𝚊𝚋𝚘𝚞𝚝 𝚒𝚝. 𝚂𝚑𝚎 𝚜𝚊𝚒𝚍 𝚒𝚝 𝚠𝚊𝚜 𝚊 𝚏𝚊𝚖𝚒𝚕𝚢 𝚝𝚑𝚒𝚗𝚐. 𝚈𝚘𝚞 𝚏𝚒𝚗𝚍 𝚝𝚑𝚎 𝚐𝚒𝚛𝚕 𝚠𝚎𝚊𝚛𝚒𝚗𝚐 𝚝𝚑𝚊𝚝 𝚗𝚎𝚌𝚔𝚕𝚊𝚌𝚎, 𝚜𝚑𝚎'𝚜 𝚢𝚘𝚞𝚛 𝚊𝚛𝚜𝚘𝚗𝚒𝚜𝚝.

𝙴𝙽𝙳 𝚃𝚁𝙰𝙽𝚂𝙲𝚁𝙸𝙿𝚃

I didn’t need to see the evidence to know what the symbol was. It was the Argent family crest and Kate Argent is the one that burned down Derek’s house. She’s the one that murdered the Hale’s. That’s why she was a touchy subject to him. But there was something else too. 

-

The next day I was out shopping when I saw her. Kate Argent was in the sporting goods department, looking at arrows. She must have sensed me staring so I went back to looking at…lamps. 

“(Y/N)?” She called. Shit. I looked up nonchalantly. 

“Um, yes?”

“(Y/N) (Y/L/N)? You remember me right? Swim class?” And that’s what it was. That’s what connected Kate to the school. She was a swim coach. She must have watched Derek from there. 

“Oh right.” I smiled, “I completely forgot. With everything going on it’s been hard to remember.” 

“Right, I heard about your parents.” She gave a sympathetic smile, “I’m so sorry for your loss.” She put a hand to her chest. 

“It’s alright. It seems that there’s a lot of fires in this town, huh?” I smiled, tilting my head to the side. 

Her smile tightened, “Yeah. Unfortunate circumstances.” We both nodded slowly. It seems like we both knew what was really going on here.

“What have you been up to recently?” She asked. 

“Oh I work at the school. I’ve had the pleasure of meeting your niece, Allison. Such a sweet girl.” 

“She is, isn’t she? Kinda like how you used to be. It seems you’ve been associating with Derek Hale. He’s a fugitive, don’t you know?” 

I answered innocently, “I’m quite sure you don’t know what you’re talking about.”

“Which one? Associating with Derek Hale or that he’s a fugitive.” 

“Ms. Argent, I think you and I both know what a real criminal is. Now I am sure someone was chasing your niece around that school and I wish she hadn’t been in that situation. And I believe we’re assuming that all these killings were committed by someone who enjoys seeing others in pain. Someone manipulative. You had Derek as a student, does that sound like him?” 

Kate chuckled, “I know him a lot better than you do. A lot better.” She left, taking her arrows to the front of the store. 

-

What did she mean by that? How did she know Derek “a lot”? Not like I really wanted to get answers from him since he decided to join his Uncle’s murder parade. Derek was good, he fought for justice for his sister. But now that he’s found her killer, he doesn’t want to hurt him. I guess, I could understand the point that Peter was his only family left. The point that Peter made it so he was the only family left was just too much to ignore for me. I just-…I couldn’t believe that he would do that unless he was trying to trick him somehow.  

I messed with the soup I made for dinner, placing the cover on the pot and letting it simmer. Stiles was running like a bat out of hell. 

“Hey, what’s going on?” I looked out at him. 

He skidded to a stop, “Peter Hale is taking Scott’s mom out on a date, I’m gonna go rear end them.” He took off again. That meant Peter wasn’t around Derek to influence him. Which meant I could talk to him alone. I turned off the stove top and grabbed my keys. 

On the drive there, I felt the terrible feeling again. Something was going to go wrong again. I parked in the spot that we had first parked when I originally got lost in the woods and found my way to the Hale house. It wouldn’t be hard to find it again. I walked for a while and I had finally found it, his Camaro was in front of the house. I was about to step onto the porch when I felt a sharp pain in my back. I inhaled sharply, arching my back. I reached around and pulled out whatever had hit me. I inspected it, it was a tranquilizer dart. Who the hell-…

My vision started to get a little fuzzy, I blinked hard to clear it. Soon, my legs get numb. I fell backwards, landing on the forest floor. I groaned, trying to move but my limbs weren’t responding. Kate Argent kneeled down next to me and smiled. 

“Guess I was right about one thing.” She pulled down a gas mask that had been on the top of her head and threw something through the open window of the house. The last thing I heard was Derek yelling at Scott to run.

-

I was slow to wake up. Whatever had been in that dart knocked me out real good, the effects were still lingering now even as I was waking up. I was back tied in a chair again. If I got out of this situation alive, I was throwing out every chair I owned. 

“There you are, sleeping beauty.” Kate’s voice echoed. She bent over to meet my eyes. I tried to pick my head up, fighting to stay awake. 

“Man, I think I gave you too much. Thought you could handle it.” She lifted my head up. 

“Wha-what did you give me?” I slurred. 

“Wolfsbane. Nothing deadly, just enough to knock you out.” She smiled, dropping my face. Why in the hell did she shoot me with wolfsbane? And why did it work?

“It took me a while, but I finally found your connection in all this. It seems Beacon Hills has two werewolf families.” 

I found the strength in my neck to look up, “What? My…my family aren’t werewolves. I didn’t even know they existed until like two months ago.” I grimaced. 

“Well they aren’t now, silly. How is Michael by the way?” She asked, the door opened behind me, two men walked in - dragging something large behind them. My vision was still fuzzy so I couldn’t tell what it was. 

“Michael?”

“Yeah, he was my little protégé. His family come from a long line of hunters. Just like me. He got too involved with his undercover work though. When we tried to destroy your clan the first time he couldn’t go through with it.” 

“You’re crazier than I thought.” I shook my head. 

“I don’t blame you for being confused. I didn’t know either for the longest time. My brother and your father had a deal of some kind, details. They kept you hidden from your own world.” She pouted dramatically. 

“Listen, lady. You are insane.” I blinked hard, my vision finally clearing. The two men had left, and it turned out the large thing they had been caring for was Derek. They had him chained up, by his hands, leaving him to dangle. He was shirtless and passed out. 

“Hey, what the hell are you doing?” I asked as she walked over to him. She turned back, surprised. 

‘A little protective, are we? You can’t think you can keep him all to yourself, not after our history.” She hummed, running her finger over his chest. What she said hit me like a ton of bricks. That’s why he hated talking about her, why he felt so guilty when she was talking to him about Laura. 

“You sexually abused him.” I gasped, completely mortified. 

“I wouldn’t call it abuse.” 

“The law would. He was sixteen years old. He was just a kid!” She didn’t look the least bit phased, “You’re sick. A sick, sick bitch.” She crossed over to me quickly, slapping me hard across the face. I will admit that it hurt a lot, but the worst pain was that as soon as Kate’s hand connected with her cheek, Derek woke up with a gasp. She turned, a wicked smile on her lips. 

“Oh this just keeps getting better and better.” She smacked me again, sending me back into darkness. 

-

I woke up, not sure how much time had gone by so I could finally get a good look at Derek. There were wires attached to his right side, attached with black electrical and paper tape. He looked in pretty rough shape, worse off than I was. 

“Are you alright?” He asked, still not meeting my eyes. 

“I’m okay.” I nodded, “Derek, I am so sorry for what she did to you.”

His jaw tightened, “She told you.” 

“I thought she got to you just being the swim coach but I could have never imagined… I’m so sorry.” It made sense now why he didn’t want to be close, why he couldn’t be around me in the beginning. She took everything from him under the guise of love. She preyed on a child. He didn’t want to be vulnerable again.

“I can’t imagine how much anger you have. And guilt. None of this was your fault.”

“It was my fault. I was stupid and should have known better.” He glowered. 

“Derek, you were a kid. And she’s a psychotic manipulator who used her charm and good looks to seduce a child. She’s a monster.” 

“I know that. but that doesn't make the guilt any worse. I’m the reason they’re all gone.” His voice trailed off at the end. 

“No, no you’re not. She was manipulating all the people that Peter killed. The bus driver was an insurance investigator assigned to the case and got fired for fraud, Mr. Harris taught her how to make the bomb necessary to start the fire, she hired three guys with priors of arson. That’s why they were on Laura’s list, she figured out all the people helped Kate with the fire. But I guess Peter already told you that.” He stared, processing what I had said. 

“Did he not tell you that?” I narrowed my eyes, “He’s killing people and he didn’t tell you why, just that they were on Laura’s list?” He didn’t answer. 

“Why are you blindly following him? What good reason could he have for killing Laura? If he really wanted to kill those people, why wouldn’t he just work with her? He cut her in half and left her to rot! Left her for you to find!”

“I don’t need you yelling at me about it! I know he killed her and he has no justification for it. He’s crazy! I’m playing into this because if I don’t he’ll go after you!” He shouted, finally looking at me. 

“What?” I mumbled.

“He wants to make a new bloodline. As soon as he builds up a pack, he’s coming for you and-” Derek was cut off by a door opening. And in walked Kate Argent followed by her niece, Allison. Derek had shifted formed when they walked in, all of the anger and rage built up in his system and the change just happened. 

“What is this place?” She asked. 

“Let’s start with the basics– you know how every family has its secrets?” Kate came to me, wrapping a gag around my mouth before I could talk, “Ours is a little different…” She turned the spotlight onto Derek. He roared at her loudly. 

“Isn’t he beautiful?” She mused. Allison took a step back. Kate walked over to the electrical equipment, turning up the dial Derek gritted his teeth, his body became rigid as it went through him. At the same time, my vision clouded. I could feel my body hanging like his, the electricity flowing through my bones. The two only stood there, watching Derek struggle, scream, and writhe. 

“What are you doing to him? Is this going to kill him?” Allison asked, her voice echoing between the room and the vision I was in. 

“Oh, come on, kid. Don’t get all ethical on me now.” Kate leaned against the equipment. 

“What is he?” She looked between Derek and I, “What are they?” Kate finally opened the circuit, cutting off the electric flow. Derek hung there limply, breathing heavily. I was pulled from the vision, gasping for air and feeling all the soreness that came with being electrocuted.

“Her…” Kate hummed, “I’m not sure. But him - shape-shifter. Lycan. Werewolf.” Derek glared at them, his eyes burning bright blue. 

“But to me he’s just another dumb animal.” She flipped the switch again, sending more volts running through him. He screamed through his gritted teeth. I glared, fighting against the visions so I could focus, I could feel the static making my hair stick up. Allison, looking conflicted, looked between Kate and Derek. Kate turned off the volts again. His head hung low, the pain finally knocking him out. I took a deep breath, trying to keep my head straight. 

“Come here,” She brought Allison closer to Derek. Kate grabbed his chin. 

“Get your hands off of him!” I tried to shout around the gag, but it all came out as gibberish. Kate ignored me regardless and forced Derek’s lips open to show his teeth. 

“There are canines. Also known as fangs. Made for tearing and rendering flesh. Not something you find on those cute little leaf eating herbivores, is it?”

Allison shook her head, “Is this a joke to you?”

Kate’s hands dropped from Derek’s face, “Sweetie, there are werewolves running around the world. Everything’s a joke to me. How else do you think I stay sane?” Sanity train left ages ago. 

"So was it him at the high school? And all the other animal attacks?” Allison asked. 

“There’s actually three of them. Another younger one like him,” She motioned to Derek, “Called a beta. And then there’s the alpha. Alpha is the pack leader. Bigger, stronger, nastier. Those are the real ugly motherfu-. ” As she was speaking, I kicked a nearby rock towards her leg 

“Why did you take her if she’s not one of them?” Allison looked at me. Kate nodded and walked over to me, pulling a vial out of her pocket. 

“A very extraordinary thing occurred that I have never actually seen before. You see, she comes from a family of werewolves but is not a werewolf. But somehow they were able to form a mating connection, because as you know animals like him mate for life. He feels her pain, she feels his.” She opened the vial and let a drop fall down onto my pants. The liquid seeped through the fabric onto my leg, causing a red hot burning sensation. I bit down hard on the gag, breathing hard to ignore the pain.  She put the cork back on the vial, walking her and Allison back out of the cellar. 

-

Later on in the day, not sure how many hours went by but Kate was back, rummaging through Derek’s jacket.

“Come on, Derek, he killed your sister.” She pulled out his wallet and took the money that was inside, “Ya know, maybe you’re not telling me because you wanna kill him yourself or for some reason, you’re protecting him.” She dropped the wallet and grabbed his chin so he faced her, she put what looked like his driver’s license up to his face. 

“Awww, look at that sour face.” She pouted and let go of his face, “I bet you’re used to people coming up to you and saying: Smile, Derek. Why don’t you smile more? Don’t you wanna just kick those people in the face?” Derek glanced at me before looking back at Kate. 

“I can think of one.”

“Promise?” She smiled, an amused look on her face, “Cause if I thought you’d be that much fun, I’d let you go.” She continued to rifle through his wallet, “Nothing, nothing, nothing. God, I hate this detective crap.”

“Are you gonna torture me or are you just gonna bore me to death, huh?” He was getting more and more irritated. 

“Oh sweetie. I don’t wanna torture you.” She said sweetly, “I just wanna catch up. Remember all the fun we had together?" 

“Or the time you burned my family alive?” He growled, “Working with another set of psychos to do the same to another family?”

"Ya know? I was thinking more about the hot, crazy sex we had. But the fire thing, that was fun too.” She played with his emotions, the same way she had done before. Derek jerked forward towards her. She didn’t flinch.

“I love how much you hate me. Remember how this felt?” Kate bent down to the hem of Derek’s pants. I struggled against the chair, agitating the burn on my leg, but I needed to help him. Kate’s tongue snaked out and ran over Derek’s abdomen. Derek roared at her, his fangs sharp. 

“Sweetheart, I really don’t want to torture you.” Kate said as the door opened again, revealing a bald man, “But he does.” Kate looked at me, watching me continue to struggle against my restraints. 

“Ooh, she’s a fighter, Derek.” She laughed, “Reminds me a lot of myself at her age.” She looked at her henchman, “Don’t be shy, give her some too.”

-

After getting nothing from either of us, the man left. The guy seemed to enjoy punching Derek in his stomach and watching me double over. His experiments ranged and there were a few new cuts on my body that weren’t there earlier today. Kate walked in, listening to someone on her phone. 

“Unfortunately, Derek, if you’re not gonna talk I’m gonna have to kill you.” She walked back over to the electrical box. I screamed through the gag, lunging my body forward, making the chair jump forward. I tried again but lost balance, the chair fell sideways. My arm slammed into the concrete floor. Derek winced at the impact. Kate chuckled, reaching for the knob to close the circuit. 

“Say hi to your sister for me.” She paused, “You didn’t tell her about me did you? The truth about the fire?“ Derek’s guilt showed on his face, now too tired and beaten to hide it. 

"Or did you?” She asked, “Oh, sweetie, that’s a lot of guilt to keep buried. It’s not all your fault. You got tricked by a pretty face. It happens. Handsome young werewolf mistakenly falls in love with a super hot girl who comes from a family that kills werewolves.“ Derek’s emotions ranged from anger to guilt and sadness. 

"Is that ironic? Is it? Ironic, that you were unknowingly helping me track down the rest of the pack. Again. We’re just a little bit of history repeating.” She paused for a minute, thinking about what she said, "History repeating..“ She muttered. 

"It’s not Jackson is it? Oh no no no, he’s got a little scratch on the back of his neck. But he’s not in love with Allison. Not like Scott.” It didn’t take torture to find out who the other beta was, so that just meant Kate Argent was more of a monster than I originally thought. The new danger was to Scott and that translated to Stiles, and I wasn’t there to keep him safe.

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

Read part 9 here!

I’m reading the transcript of the episode as I’m writing so let’s say the similarities between what (Y/N) says and what Kate says are intentional. 

Likes, Comments, and reblogs are appreciated! Again I want to thank everyone who has been reading, it’s bring back my Teen Wolf nostalgia. 

Comment below or message me to be on the taglist! 

YSM Tag:

@nyotamalfoy

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[theonewiththefanfics]

Would You Be My Little Quarantine (one-shot)

Synopsis: As the mandatory quarantine hits, the Reader is stuck in a cabin in Utah with the boys from 5 Seconds of Summer. Turns out another person is stuck in a hotel nearby. Hijinx ensue as does romance. 

Pairing: Harry Styles x f!Reader

Genre: fluff pretty much just pure, teeth-rotting fluff.

Warnings: it’s my first time writing for Harry as I was never really part of the fandom, but damn does Watermelon Sugar do things to a person, so please be kind. This is defo not my best work, but I’m slowly getting back into the groove of things, so bare with me :D

Word count: 6061

        TikTok had become Y/N’s new obsession. She’d stayed away from it as long as she could, being a true Vine generation child, she felt loyalty to the deceased app. But one night, after a long recording session, she caved. And then stayed giggling on it until the early morning when the birds started to chirp… or until Calum had taken her phone and threatened to throw it in the jacuzzi if she didn’t go to bed. 

        The girl and the four guys from 5 Seconds of Summer had been renting a cabin in the middle of the Utah woods to help them escape the distractions of the city as they recorded their respective albums, and given how they were good friends, they decided to collaborate on a few songs, and it made sense to just chill together as well.

        Which had started off Y/N’s own TikTok series, having ‘borrowed’ the idea from the Irishman living with two girls.

        “Alright, gentlemen.” She slid inside her bathroom pulling the focus of her camera on the reflection in the mirror. “I live with four guys, and I have some things to say. Why do you always, and I mean ALWAYS, leave your socks around the house? The dirty ones. You know you could just throw them in the wash… there’s an idea.”

        “We do!” Calum yelled

        Y/N turned her face to the door and hollered, “Only after I’ve asked you to!”

        “Do not!” he countered.

        “Do too!” she exited the bathroom and into the hallway only to be met with the man standing there with his hands on his hips. “Then how.” Y/N pointed the camera towards the living area you could see from where the hallways overlooked the room. “Do you explain that?” And when she zoomed in, there, in a small pile laid two brown socks, all crumpled up and almost pushed underneath one of the three couches, as if someone was trying to hide them from sight.

        Calum stammered for a bit. “Those are NOT mine.”

        Y/N flipped the camera and looked at it like they do in the Office. “Help me,” she mouthed and finished the TikTok, pointing with her hand at him. “Ya disgustin’!”

        Just as maturely as she had reacted, so did Calum by crossing his arms and sticking his tongue out, but their little bickering about whose socks they were and whose job was it to put them in the dirty wash (they were Ashton’s, and it was his job), Luke poked Y/N’s side as he came out from his room. 

        “I know might seem weird, but is there any chance another person could join our quarantine group?”

        Y/N’s eyebrows rose. Sure, the house was giant, mostly because whatever production she was a part of on Broadway, after a successful season, she invited all of them there to get away from the bustle of New York and just chill. It was in the middle of the forest, encased by gorgeous mountains and at the side of a lake where they’d go jet skiing and cliff diving.

        “I thought people can’t visit one another?”

        “They can’t,” Luke confirmed. “That’s the point. The unfortunate soul just got stuck at a hotel not too far from here, and all the flights are cancelled. Two weeks of quarantine without symptoms have been concluded, but, knowing how impossible it’d be to get to London, when you know, as I said, there are no flights, I offered a place to stay.”

        “So,” Y/N dramatically rolled her head. “You already offered to stay before asking me?”

        “Well, I knew you’d say ‘yes’ because you’re a kind, generous, amazing, smart, talented, compassionate person and wouldn’t leave someone on the streets when you know you could help.”

        “Mhm, keep talking.” Y/N squinted her eyes and put her hands on her hips.

        “Incredible, best musician I’ve ever met, how you haven’t won all of Tony’s I’ve got no idea. Your acting skills are impeccable and the movie industry is missing out on a once in a lifetime kind of a talent by not castin-“

        “Alright stop.” Y/N busted out laughing. “As long as you promise I won’t wake up with an axe in my head, ‘s fine.” 

        “Promise.”

        “Good. Also, could you please get me three bottles of that wine I like?” Y/N hollered before skipping downstairs and to the kitchen where Ashton was brewing the tenth cup of coffee. “I have a deadline in two weeks and have literally no idea where to go with the story.” She referred to the second book of her series she was writing, and now with the lockdown going on, her literary agent was breathing down her neck, and it didn’t help she hadn’t written anything in like a month and didn’t remember half of the already exiting story.

        Luke lifted a brow and hissed through his teeth. “That bad?”

        “You have no idea,” she sighed and left for the living-room where she could harass the boys for their fries and procrastinate some more. 

***

        The few hours, while Luke was away, were quite uneventful. All of them sat around on the couch pit, wrote some music, lil bit of lyrics and Y/N almost cried seeing as her characters had decided to live their own life and not obey to her story.

        “Why do you have to be such an idiot,” she mumbled under her breath and furrowed her brows as she wrote herself into a new plot hole.

        Right as Y/N was about to delete the whole chapter, the door slammed open and she heard grunting. “We’re here!” Luke hollered, and the thought of wine made her giddy, making her leap over the edge of the couch, and rush to the front door only to stop dead in her tracks. 

        Y/N’s mouth hung open, not because of who the person joining their quarantine group was, but because of what the person was. “A fifth GUY?! You didn’t tell me it’d be a guy!”

        “I didn’t think it’d matter!” Luke yelled back.

        “There’s already four of you!” She pointed back to the living room hearing loads of ‘hey!’ being shouted back.

        “Would you leave him on the streets if you’d known he was a dude?”

        “No, of course not!” 

        “Why are we yelling?”

        “I don’t know!”

        “I mean, I can leave.” Harry Styles said pointing at the door, not really knowing what to do. He certainly hadn’t expected that sort of greeting. “But I do come bearing gifts.” He lifted a black bag where a clinking of glass could be heard.    

        “No,” she sighed.  “It’s fine... I just… I just miss the company of vaginas.”

        He raised a perfectly groomed eyebrow. “Vaginas?”

        “People I can rant to. Honestly, it doesn’t even matter if you have a vagina, as long as we can have a good rant. Especially about the gross things like having all of your dirty socks thrown around the house.” She threw Luke a look that screamed ‘I know you pushed all of them under your bed, and it’s stinking up the whole place.’

        Harry shook his head. “Ya not gonna find me leaving my clothes like that. Besides, ‘s disgusting.”

        “No,” Luke whined, “come on, man! You’re supposed to be on our side!”

        “It’s two against four,” Harry snickered, throwing his hand around Y/N’s shoulder, who gave Luke a smug grin, and it made her mimic the same expression.

        “It’s evening out. Maybe you should actually invite some other people to quarantine with us. Say, Harry, is maybe Niall in need of a place to stay?”

        Luke rolled his eyes, and shook his head, going into the kitchen and placing the food bags he’d been holding. “I hate you so much.”

        Y/N’s smile just widened.         

        ***

        “Yes, I’m still stealing your series Irishman.” Y/N zoomed in on her face. “Because now…” she looked up at the ceiling in a manner ‘someone please save me’, “I’m living with FIVE dudes. Yes, FIVE. We have an addition. And if someone doesn’t come and kill me, I will kill them.”

        “We’re not that bad!” Michael hollered form out of frame, to which Y/N yelled back, “Yes the fuck you are! Boys are gross. You do realize you’re allowed to have more than one towel. Like you DON’T have to wipe your face with a towel that’s soaked up your ball juice.”

        “It’s economy.”

        “It’s disgusting! Also.” Y/N turned the camera to Harry who was climbing up the stairs with a cup of coffee in hand. “Say ‘Hi’ to gremlin number five. He’s stolen all of my nail polish.”

        He gave a cute wave with an adorable smile, muttering an unintelligible ‘Hello’ as his mouth was stuffed with a piece of bread and a very muffled ‘You don’t even use them.’

        “Yes, but that’s not the point. Anyway,” Y/N pointed the camera at herself. “Tune in for an update whenever, as long as I haven’t strangled anyone, and pray to the heavens you don’t see my face in the papers cause the next time you do, it’ll be my mugshot for a quintuple homicide.”

        “Is that a threat Y/L/N?” Harry smirked, as Y/N walked past him and took away his cup of coffee.

        “No, it’s a promise.” She threw him a wink, leaving the Brit with his mouth open at the woman’s audacity, as she stopped the recording of the TikTok.

        “That was my coffee!”

        “Not anymore!”

        He shook his head, turning back around and going to the kitchen, seeing Y/N perched on one of the stools, neck stretching over to where Ashton was watching a video on his phone, the black liquid in his cup now a creamy beige. Harry smiled. Maybe quarantine wasn’t going to be so bad.

***

        Y/N’s head popped from the side of the door, bringing all of their attention to her. “You guys need to record anything right now?”

        Luke shook his head, signifying the band was alright before turning to Harry who mimicked him, the tapping of his pen stopping. “Why?”

        “Just got a call from Laurence, he said something’s wrong with the ‘Candy Store’ audio from yesterday. Need to rerecord it and send it over. Something about a faulty export or whatever.”

        “ ‘S all yours.” Ashton motioned to the recording booth. “Oh, but can I be Heather Duke?”

        “And can I be Heather McNamara then?” Luke piped in.

        Y/N chuckled. “Not to burst your bubbles, but you do know you won’t be in the final version?”

        “No, but we could be in THIS version. It’d be for our private files. And it’d help you.”

        “That sounds so wrong.” She grimaced. “How would that help me?” Y/N plopped next to Harry on the floor. “You’re the biggest distractions I’ve ever met.”

        Luke scoffed. “How dare you! We offer you our services of being backup singers, and you… you’re such a meanie. You’re such a Heather Chandler!”

        “It’s 2020! If Leslie Odom Jr. can play Aaron Burr, then I can play one of the Heathers! Don’t be sexist, Y/N!”

        “I never said a dude can’t play a Heather, don’t put words in my mouth. I just said last time we tried to record anything together we ended up playing SIMS for like seven hours, but… come on you two divas, get your asses inside then. But I swear if Laurence or Kevin call because one of you whispered something dirty in the background of MY parts, I will strangle you in your sleep.”

        “How little trust do you have in us?”

        “Very,” Y/N deadpanned, showing the two men inside, leaving Calum, Harry and Michael to man the production table. “If you mess with anything, your asses will be grass.” She pointed at the three and all of them put their hands up in surrender. “ ‘S bad enough you ruined my single.”

        “It’s called giving it flavour,” Calum said through the microphone.

        Y/N just responded by sticking her tongue out.

        Michael lifted his fingers, counting down from five to one, giving her the cue to start.

        “Are we gonna have a problem?” Y/N cocked her head to the side, already immersed in the character of Heather Chandler. “You’ve got a bone to pick? You’ve come so far, why now are you pulling on my dick?”

        Harry swallowed hard. 

        “I’d normally slap your face off, and everyone here could watch,” she slightly motioned with her head to the audience behind the screen, a mockingly sweet smile on her lips. “But I’m feeling nice, here’s some advice, listen up biatch.”

        When her hips started moving from side to side to the rhythm of the song, Harry swore he’d never found someone being mean (even though it was mock mean) so hot.

        “I like,” Y/N raised her voice before dropping it. “Looking hot, buying stuff they cannot.”

        There was no sight of the sweet and bubbly girl Harry had met. This was Queen-B of Westerberg High in flesh. He was transfixed. 

“I like drinking hard, maxing dad’s credit card.”

She didn’t need anyone’s credit card to pay for her things, given how she was one of the top paid Broadway singers of their generation, and something in Harry skipped a beat at how confident she looked.

        “I like skipping gym, scaring her, screwing him,” Y/N rolled the ‘r’ deeply in her throat, and he had to collect himself before his thoughts went to an unsavoury place.

        “I like, killer clothes, kicking nerds in the nose!” With a smile, Y/N pointed at Luke who only rolled his eyes. “If you lack the balls, you can go play dolls, let yer mammy fix you a snack,” she emphasised the ‘K’ after having mockingly sung the bit before. “Or you could come smoke, pound some rum and coke, in ma Porche with the quarterback.”

        As weird as it was to have the two boys be her fellow Heathers, Y/N hated to admit it did help her. It reminded her more of what it was like to be on stage before the pandemic had started and the production had to be shut down. And she missed them. All her fellow actors just as much as she missed the rush of getting on stage and losing herself in the role and atmosphere. 

        “You can join the team –“

        “Or you can bitch and moan,” Y/N’s ‘Heathers’ sang in a nasally voice

        “You can live the dream.”

        “Or you can die alone.” 

        Harry snuck inside the recording booth, picking up a pair of headphones by the drum set.

        “You can fly with eagles,”

“Or if you’d prefer,”

        “Keep on testing me,”

        “And end up like her!”

        And that’s when Harry joined in, reciting the lines of both Veronica and Martha, and when he saw Y/N keeping a palm over her mouth as she tried to keep a mean face while inevitably hiding a smile. The whole of the song, despite how Ashton, Luke and Harry had tried to make Y/N break character (she came close a couple of times), the woman stayed on the line, not missing a beat, and especially enjoying the moment where she looked at Luke, who was about to hit the high note and screaming ‘shut up, Heather!’

        Harry couldn’t help the smile splitting apart his face. When Luke had first picked up his call, having known he and the gang were somewhere in the Utah region, he had thought he’d be living with just the guys, and when he found out it was actually Y/N Y/L/N renting the cabin, the girl he’d admired for so long for how brave and utterly unapologetic she was of being herself, Harry had just thought he’d gain a new friend, not have romantic feelings spring up.

        And all of it had happened in the span of two days, not even that much. He’d arrived the evening before, had met the woman, and now it was three PM on day two and was already in love. 

        It was an exhilarating and terrifying feeling all at once. Some studies said it takes men eight seconds to fall in love, which Harry now could pretty much confirm, while it takes women generally fifteen days to fall in love. And he could only hope Y/N might have some feelings for him as well, otherwise, he’d have to scold his heart for falling quickly once again. 

***

        It was the middle of the night, wind slamming against the windows when Harry got awoken by people talking behind his door. At first, he was ready to fight, thinking immediately that intruders had come into the house, but when he heard a ‘fuck off Michael’ and a ‘you fuck off, you’re gonna ruin this’, he understood everything was fine. And he was just about to lay back down on the soft pillows, but as the saying went – curiosity killed the cat, but satisfaction brought it back, so he threw off the covers and lightly went to the door, where a bleary Harry appeared on the stairs making Y/N and Michael whip their heads towards him and freeze on the spot. 

        “What are you two do-“ but he didn’t get to finish the question as the two co-conspirators shushed him.

        “You’re either in,” Y/N whispered harshly, “or out. Choose Styles.”

        A beat. “What kind of trouble’re we getting’ into?”

        The smile which spread on her face was nothing short of wicked. “Revenge,” Y/N hissed.

        “Be quieter than a mouse,” she whispered to him, and now the trio moved downstairs.

        “Who are we getting revenge on?” Harry spoke as quietly as he could, as they rounded the corner and exited the cabin through the back door. It was colder than he thought, seeing how the wind wasn’t warm at all, and he was grateful he’d fallen asleep in his favourite rainbow cardigan. How Y/N and Michael didn’t even shiver in their barely-there pyjamas he didn’t understand. 

        “See, Luke here thought it was a good idea to not heed my warning about not messing with my recording.”

        Harry’s eyebrows scrunched up. “He didn’t.” He knew Luke hadn’t, he was there the whole time and listened back to what they’d sung with everyone together.

        “No, but he did rename a different file with the same name I had for the 'Heathers'' recording, on MY computer, mind you. And well, let’s just say, it was not what anyone wanted to hear.”

        Harry had to swallow, as his mind went to unsavoury places, and as Y/N shimmied open the lock of the window to the studio bathroom part of the house, she looked over her shoulder to see his expression. It would seem, despite him being in ‘Dunkirk’ and having been confirmed to play Eric in the live-action ‘The Little Mermaid’ he wasn’t as good of an actor as he thought.

        “Get your mind out of the gutter,” she snickered and pulled herself inside the house through the window, Michael handing her a black duffle bag Harry hadn’t first noticed. “It was a conversation I had with my friends while we were all drunk. Some tea, some very personal tea was spilt, and so.” She unzipped the bag slowly and took out a whipped cream can. “I’m going to spill something else.”

        Canned cheese was one of the most disgusting things ever created by a human in Y/N’s opinion. So, squeezing nine cans worth of the stuff inside all of Luke’s socks, jean pockets and everywhere else possible was good enough revenge for her.

        “Why are we in the studio though?” Harry asked as the trio crept towards the bathroom door and peeked through the open sliver. It was pitch black. 

        “Because Luke teds to forget his favourite things here,” Michael explained and motioned for them to follow as he checked that the hallway was clear. It was go-time. 

        Together they all snuck back inside the recording studio, and much like Michael had said – Luke’s favourite jean jacket, a woollen jumper, three pairs of boots and shoes were all scattered around the place. He hadn’t even noticed it while they’d hung out there, but now Harry understood what Y/N was talking about while whining about the boys being messy.

        She uncapped the can and squeezed, the artificial smell of cheese wafting through the air, making her almost gag. “That’s for being a bad friend,” she muttered while filling up one shoe. “That’s for making bad jokes.” She filled up another. “And that’s for saying ‘Dancing in the Moonlight’ is an overrated song.’

        It was hard for Harry to contain the giggles, as he uncapped his own can and started filling up wherever Y/N pointed to. Did he feel bad? Sure. But was it fun to feel like a teenager in a university dorm during a prank war? Abso-fucking-lutely. And it didn’t help that he was desperately falling in love with Y/N with every second they spent together. Like she could’ve asked him to hide Luke’s corpse, and he’d say he’d take the blame for the murder if it came to it.

        “Why did we have to sneak around the place like that?” he suddenly asked, brows furrowing in concentration as he squeezed the smelly contents inside the inside pocket of the jacket. “Why couldn’t we have just walked through the house?”

        “Because Luke always and I mean always comes to the studio at 3 AM,” Y/N stated. 

        Harry looked at the clock. It was 2:45 AM already. 

        “But before that, he goes into the kitchen, makes himself a double espresso, a sandwich and eats it before going into the storage where we keep all of the instruments, which is where he is in right now. Had we snuck through the normal way, he would’ve seen us and stopped this. And that just wouldn’t fly.”

       However, it was like Luke had a sixth sense as right at that moment the light flipped on, and like deer in headlights, the trio’s heads shot up and eyes widened.

        “What the fuck!” he whispered hand extended in the direction of the already six empty cans on the floor.

        Y/N snapped out of the adrenaline induced frozen state and shrugged. “I told you not to mess with the recording.” She put her finger back on the squeezable part. “And you. Didn’t. Listen.”

        The cheese squirted out with a splutter, and all of them stood still as the final bits dropped into Luke’s black boot. “And that’s payback.”

        With a sway in her hips, Y/N exited the room, leaving the three men to gawk after her. 

God was she a hurricane, Harry thought to himself. And he’d never been as happy to be caught right in the eye of it all.

***

        The next few days all of them spent lounging around the house, recording a few songs, most of them by Harry seeing as a huge wave of inspiration had hit him, making him write more than one love song. He even asked Y/N somewhat shyly if she could do some of the backing vocals, and he swore the song went from a 3 to a 100 the second he heard her voice weave his lyrics into a symphony. 

        By that point, they’d been quarantining for a week and a half together, and a heatwave was coming up. The cabin had both an inside and outside pool which they’d all had to learn how to maintain, seeing as no one could come and do it for them, and a jacuzzi tub on the terrace. As much as the boys tried to prove they knew how to keep the places clean, ultimately it was Y/N who saved all of them from chlorine poisoning and algae overgrowth. 

        So, it was right when she pulled out the pH indicator and said it was good for use when with a scream, Luke rushed forward Y/N, rugby tackling her by the waist and plunged both of them down to the water below. 

        “You asshole!” She splashed at him, laughing and choking out a bit of water as they resurfaced. “What the fuck is wrong with you!”

        “That’s payback for the cheese.”

        She went silent for a second, but then shrugged. “Can’t say I didn’t deserve it. But you did deserve the cheese.”

        “So,” Luke extended his hand for a shake. “Do we call this even?”

        Harry exited the cabin right as both of them completely soaked to the bone jumped out onto the wood floor. He stopped mid-walk if only to control where his eyes went seeing as Y/N’s white shirt clung to her body and well… didn’t leave much for the imagination anymore.

        “Do I wanna know what happened here?” He raised a brow.

        “Retribution.”

        “Though I do gotta say, you have a funny way of getting revenge.” Y/N smirked at  Luke, making him squint down at the girl. 

        “What do you mean?”

        “I mean,” she drawled out, a mischievous smile on her lips, “that when I filled your clothes with the cheese, my stuff didn’t get stinky. And yet, from your end… I’m not the only one wet.”

        A beat passed.

        “God fucking damn it.”

        “Hey!” She pointed a finger at him. “We called a truce!”

        Luke waved her off. “Yeah yeah, whatever,” but Y/N grabbed Luke’s hand right before he went inside and squeezed it. 

“We good?”

        He sighed and smiled. “We good, sweetheart.” He pressed a kiss to the top of her head, gave Harry a quick ‘see ya later’ as well and disappeared through the glass doors. 

        Harry didn’t know what’d happened to him. He’d always been a helpless romantic, falling in love, and maybe a bit too hard at that, but this time, even without Y/N knowing about his feelings, his heart felt safe. 

        Sure, the side of her he’d seen was a complete headcase, and she had more energy than a bull with a red flag in front of it, but the utter love exuding from the woman, even while she complained about her four, well five counting him, housemates was palpable in the air. The way she hugged and made sure everyone had whatever they needed, the way she let them know if anyone needed to have a chat, she’d be there to listen, and the small little things of how she always knew what preferences they’d have for their pancakes or breakfast in general, made his heart melt. 

        “Luke’s a lucky guy.” Harry swallowed before saying that. As much as seeing Y/N be affectionate with everyone, him included, made him feel all fuzzy, a little jealousy monster did bubble up in his stomach when he saw her snuggled next to the lead vocalist of the band. He didn’t have any right to, but no matter how much he tried to repress the green beast, it still lurked somewhere deep in his heart.

        “Hm?” Y/N lifted her head where she’d been looking at the water as she squeezed it out of her shirt and up at Harry.

        He motioned with his chin to where Luke had disappeared. “He’s a lucky guy to have someone like you.”

        “Oh, we’re not together if that’s what you’re implying.”

        “I –“ he stammered. “I didn’t mean to offend y-“

        But Y/N waved him off. “You’re not the first nor probably the last person to say that. I get it. They asked me one time to surprise their fans at a concert in Connecticut, I think, and when their photographer sent over the pictures, I kinda saw what everyone kept saying, but I’ve never looked at any of them as more than a friend. Best friends, brothers maybe, but nothing more.”

        “How’d ya get so close?” Harry enquired, his chest feeling a bit lighter.

        Y/N huffed and plopped down to the ground, patting the place beside her which Harry took. “When I first went solo, right after being on ‘Beetlejuice’ I was fucking terrified. Didn’t really know anyone in the music industry like that. Being on Broadway’s different.” She shrugged. “And the award shows are different as well. Like with ‘Tony’s’ or ‘Oliver’ awards it’s you know – musical and theatre geeks. My people. But the first time I went to VMAs I almost shat myself.” She chuckled, and Harry did the same. “Didn’t know anyone at all, was petrified to even find my seat because someone told me I’d have to sit between Lady Gaga and Rihanna, and my heart was not ready for that. Ashton saw me at the edge of the carpet, creeping around the entrance and kinda…” Y/N bit her lip looking for the right words. “I dunno. They kinda took me under their wing, in a sense – if you need a friend in the industry, we’re here, that sort of thing. And ever since then, we’ve been best friends. Luke and I just got the closest because we got stuck in an elevator once for like eight hours once, and well, boredom and thinking you’re gonna die in a four by four-foot box brings people closer.”

        Harry almost choked. “Eight hours?”

        “Yep.” Y/N popped the ‘p’ and gave him a sarcastic smile. “It was like soooo much fun,” she said sarcastically.  “I totally didn’t think the elevator was about to drop from where we were up on like the sixtieth floor, and both of us were gonna get our bones smashed to pieces, and I only had two protein bars, and you know how I get without food,” she stated. He nodded.

        “Cranky.”

        “Exactly. But.” Y/N chuckled. “We didn’t die. Which’s great, not complaining, and I gained one of my all-time best friends.”

        “Well, I’m glad you didn’t die.” Harry gave her a warm smile and nudged her foot with his. “Wouldn’t have gotten the chance to meet you otherwise.”

        She nudged his foot back. “ ‘M glad I didn’t die either. And I gotta say – you’ve made this whole quarantine bearable. Sometimes it’s like fighting with four toddlers, and that’s always a futile battle. Happy to have another wrangler with me. Also an accessory to my crimes.”

        He inched his hand towards hers, and when Y/N didn’t pull away instead liked her pinkie with his, a warm feeling rushed through him.

        “Happy to be of help.”

***

It was two nights later or full two weeks since the six of them had been together when things took a turn. 

Y/N’d always been a light sleeper, especially when her life was mainly placed in New York, but now, living in the middle of nowhere, she’d been able to catch up on some sleep. That was when the sound of her door being opened made Y/N shot up in her bed, sheets clutched at her chest in a panic. “What? What’s wrong? What did Calum set on fire?”

        “Nothing.” Harry’s eyebrows scrunched up, but he decided not to ask. There was the morning for that. “This might seem weird, but could I uh could I possibly sleep in your room?”

        She blinked a couple of times, because her brain was still processing his words and if they were even English, but once they registered, Y/N nodded, pulling back her blanket and scooting over. “C’mere.”

        “Again, I’m sorr-“

        Y/N shushed him, as Harry climbed in the bed, placing the duvet underneath his arm and twisting to see her, as she mumbled, “less talk, more sleep.”

        He hummed in agreement. His eyes were heavy, in fact, they’d become heavy the instant his head had hit Y/N’s pillow, but it was like his heart, the same poor heart that’d had to deal with the newfound emotions for the whole time he’d been there, the same poor heart that didn’t know better and always gave itself away to the person it deemed to be worthy, no matter if in the end it ended up broken, took over the control of his eyes and mouth, and while slamming against Harry’s ribcage, he whispered his confession. 

        “I really like you… As more than a friend.”

        A second passed. He felt Y/N stir as she turned towards him, brow furrowed. “Sorry?”

        “I said…” He let out a shaky exhale. “I like you. I fell for you pretty much the second I entered the house and you threatened to throw me out because I was a guy. And then I fell for you when I saw you let loose in the studio. And then once more when I witnessed what your wrath entails.”

        Y/N chuckled. “Cheese.”

        “Yeah…” He let out a little laugh. “Cheese.”

        A gentle palm went to brush away the hair stuck to Y/N’s face and he swore he could just melt as she leaned into his touch. “And then I fell for you when you said yes to singing my song… when you sang the lyrics, I dedicated to you… and every second I fall for you even more… I just… I thought you should know…”

        “Well, I can only hope that you’ll take this as a compliment then, when I say I kinda like you too, Styles,” she mumbled snuggling deeper into her pillow. “Though I didn’t think I was your type.”

        “What’s my type then?” he mumbled back, letting his arms wrap around Y/N’s waist when she shuffled closer. Not only was he now fully in heaven because he was covered by the softest duvet in the world, head resting against a literal cloud, but also because his nostrils were invaded by the gentlest of smells, and the body against his was the warmest of comforts. 

        “Well, not girls like me.”

        “You mean talented, beyond funny and absolutely breath-taking?”

        “Introverted, house hermits who don’t wash their hair unless they have to go somewhere with a perchance of self-destructive behaviour. Unintentional that is.”

        Harry’s eyebrows lifted. “Would’ve never taken you for an introvert.”

        “Mmmh,” Y/N sighed, feeling his fingers skim her skin. “That’s because I’ve known those guys for years, and they’re like my brothers. Couldn’t be uncomfortable even if I tried with them. We’ve seen too much of each other. But I’m definitely an introvert. Almost had a panic attack the first time I had to make my own doctor’s appointment.”

        “You didn’t seem shy with me.”

        “That’s because for some weird reason I… I didn’t feel awkward around you. And I mean, you did bring wine.”

        She could feel Harry’s chest rumble as he laughed. “Well, I hope it helped with inspiration.”

        “Ugh, don’t remind me,” she huffed, but opened her bleary eyes and were met by Harry’s green already staring back. She couldn’t contain the giggle, and it only grew in power as he chuckled himself, making her bury her head in his chest.

        “What?”

        “Nothing,” she shook her head. “Just never thought I’d date someone from 1D.”

        “Are we below you or something?” There was no trace of malice and hurt in his voice. He knew Y/N wasn’t like that.

        “No, ‘s just my boy band phase was ‘Good Charlotte’, ‘Panic at the D!sco,’ ‘My Chem’ and the sort.”

        “So, you weren’t fainting while listening to ‘You Don’t Know You’re Beautiful’?” Harry mumbled in Y/N’s hair, sleep slowly overtaking him.

        She shook her head. “Sorry, no. Panties definitely weren’t dropping then.”

        “Are they now?”

        “According to ‘Watermelon Sugar’ you’re the one pulling all of ‘em off.”

        “Damn. Guess it’ll have to be my new challenge.”

        Y/N’s eyebrows scrunched up as she looked at him before promptly falling asleep. “Making my panties drop?”

        “Yep. But this time because of me, not Gerard Way.”

        “Bold of you to assume it was just Gerard Way. I’m a slut for all of those wizard dads.”

        By the time she slurred out the last sentence both of them had drifted off into a peaceful slumber.

***

        “They were right!” Harry shouted jumping up in the bed, startling Y/N awake once more as if something was breaking down on their heads with how urgently he jolted. “It does take women two weeks to fall in love and men 8 seconds.”

        A pillow met his face. “Fall back asleep.” 

        He leaned over her still horizontal form, a smug smile on his face. “Are you gonna make a TikTok about it?”

        “Probably ‘bout how I murdered the boyfriend I was with for three hours if he doesn’t let me sleep.”

        He didn’t argue. With a smile on his face, Harry drifted off once more. Who knew that getting stuck in a hotel somewhere in Utah would lead him to the love of his life? 

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A/N: So... I know I’ve been gone for quite a while, but that’s because I have a job now (I’m trying to get a different one that actually would involve my degree, because this one is absolutely killing me), so please be understanding with the spare posting. I still love writing fics, and as evident, I’m kina branching out into other fandoms :D

There’s a lot of things going on in my life, so if you wanna follow me you can do that on Instagram @dinnusa or @read_with_dee or on my blog dinnusa.wordpress.com :) I also have a TikTok @dinmasters

P.S. feedback is always appreciated :)

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