With-paint - Sarah

Something Had Happened

Part 1 of ? of How series

Rating: Teen and up

Pairing: Peter Maximoff x fem!reader

Word Count: 3,700

Summary: As the person in charge of hiding and rehubilitating superheroes, you never expected to be tasked with hiding someone from another reality

Warnings: swearing, bad understanding of how the U.S. Marshal Service works, Tony is still alive :(

A/N: This was inspired by this post, wandavison, and my bullshit understanding of the X-men and the multiverse. This is set a year and a half after Civil War. And 6 months before the events of Infinity War. This fic spans from that time period all the way to WandaVision. So get ready for a slow burn fix-it fic. Because the dick joke was offensive.

Sunlight streamed in from the gaps of your curtains. You sat on the floor, back against your desk as you watched the dust particles swirl around, never settling on your cluttered room. Your head had never felt heavier, but you slowly turned it to stare at the cup of water sitting next to you.

You took a shaky breath and brought your hand up slowly. With a flick of your wrist a perfect circle of water rose up from the cup. You felt tears gathering in your eyes and you had to squeeze them shut to keep from completely breaking down. You heard the water plop back down into the cup as your concentration broke.

“Fuck fuck fuck.” You whispered, bringing your hands to yank at the roots in your hair. You tucked your head into your chest and drew your knees up, effectively turning yourself into a ball. You felt the tears finally roll down your face and you cursed again knowing you wouldn’t be able to stop. Your throat hurt from the sob you choked down and you tore your hand away from your hair and covered your mouth, trying to keep your sobs hidden. They wracked through your body and you pressed your forehead more firmly into your knees.

This couldn’t be happening. You couldn’t have powers. Half moon crescents from your nails digging into your cheek, throbbed as you pulled your hand away from your mouth.

In a pathetic fury you lunged for the cup of water and threw it at the wall. It shattered against a poster and the water and glass rained down on your floor.

You sniffled as you stared at the mess you made. Pity and misery washed over you again and you pressed your back, back to your desk.

-Ten Years Later-

You felt your blood hum as you strolled across the little bridge over the man made pond. You smirked as your fingers gave a little twitch, longing to be able to play among the water.

A large rectangular building lay ahead of you and you strode ahead with confidence. Your shoes crunched against the gravel courtyard. The Avengers Compound loomed impressively in front of you. It had been a year and a half since the “Civil War” happened and the compound hadn’t felt the same since. With people like Captain Rodgers, Agent Barton, Dr. Banner, and Thor, on the run or at their homes, nothing felt quite right.

Of course you knew where Agent Barton was, that was your job after all. You worked closely with S.H.I.E.L.D from the United States Marshal Service to utilize the operation, Witness Security Program, or more commonly called, The Federal Witness Protection Program. You were the sole person in charge of the link between the superheroes and the U.S. Department of Justice.

You shifted your briefcase from your right hand to your left and placed your palm on the door scanner. You bounced on the balls of your feet awkwardly as the tech read your prints. You leaned forward to do the same to your eye before the door buzzed open with a welcoming noise.

You strolled into the building with your head high, not wanting to look out of place. Not today. It wasn’t often that you visited the Avengers Compound, but something had happened.

You didn’t know exactly what it was, but your team had all been called in under the instruction of Mr. Stark and Director Mace.

You lamented losing not only Director Fury but Director Coulson, but you shook your head to clear the thought’s away. There were a lot of events to the two of them “leaving” the way they did.

You breezed down the corridors of the compound, wondering idly if your team had showed up yet. Agent Iyer definitely was, there was no doubt about it.

There were two members of your team, excluding you. Agent Iyer and Agent Tareen. You three occupied a very small part of the S.H.I.E.L.D. operations, called H.O.M.E., but the work you three did was top secret. Only the three of you, Director Mace, and the client you were assisting, knew what you did. And the Avengers of course. Just so they knew they had options. You wished more of them would come for help.

You along with Agents Tareen and Iyer worked at the U.S. Marshal Service helping normal people into the witness program. But you three were also available at the drop of a hat to work with S.H.I.E.L.D. and get their heroes in a safe home or witnesses away from supervillains.

It was like your normal job, just a little more extreme.

You rounded a corner and let out a huff once you saw both Agent Tareen and Agent Iyer sitting in the conference room. You checked your watch.

You were twenty minutes early.

Jackasses.

You eyed them through the window for a second, feeling nothing but pride for your team. Agent Tareen was wearing a beige hijab that was intricately wrapped on her head. A power suit adjourning her body. A comfy looking undershirt covered any skin that may be exposed and she looked incredibly bored sitting there. You smiled at her and looked over at Agent Iyer. His dark hair and dark beard matched his suit perfectly. You raised your eyebrow at the vest sitting underneath his jacket, but you weren’t surprised. Iyer would wear a three piece suit to meet with the Director of S.H.I.E.L.D. You smiled at your smartly dressed associates and readjusted your grip on your briefcase.

You put on a ludicrous smile and shoved open the door. It banged open and you were surprised to see Mr. Stark standing there with them. You hadn’t noticed him from the window by the door.

“Agents. Mr. Stark.” You greeted, making your smile seem more charming. Mr. Stark looked up and nodded at you. Agent Tareen shot you a playful glare and you repressed the urge to stick your tongue out at her. You eyed a bowl of peanuts that sat in front of you before you quickly snatched a few and popped them into your mouth.

“Agent Y/L/N I presume. Right, now that we’re all here I’ll start,” Mr. Stark said and clapped his hands. He pulled out his phone and with a few taps holograms burst from it. He tapped around them, you tried to follow what he was even looking at, but it just looked like blue lights to you.

“Here we go, the wonder boy.” He said, dragging a specific picture on his phone to display onto the TV sitting across from you three. You slowly sink into a chair, placing your briefcase down quietly. You wheeled in next to Agent Iyer and looked up with morbid interest.

You really hoped it wasn’t a child.

Instead pictures of a man maybe a little younger than you flood the screen. He had blonde and silver hair, a silver jacket, goggles on his head, and headphones around his neck. He looked peaceful as he laid on the forest floor. You swallowed, not wanting to see a dead body this early in the morning.

Agent Tareen leaned forward in her chair and narrowed her eyes, studying the images carefully.

“A couple of kids found him. They were playing in the woods when they saw a man lying on the ground. They thought he was dead and their parents called 911. Local police and EMTs discovered he was indeed alive. Except he then moved away from them.” You furrowed your eyebrows and nodded along to what Mr. Stark was saying. This was weird right? What did this all mean? Did the kids or their parents need to go into hiding? Why was Mr. Stark the one relaying the information and not your usual boss at the Marshal Service?

“And how is this a concern to us?” Agent Iyer spoke up, resting his chin into his hand. Mr. Stark seemed to light up and leaned forward and popped one of the peanuts into his mouth.

“That’s the thing. He moved three miles away in half a second. Speedy got super speed.” You snapped your attention to the TV screen in astonishment.

“So you found a hero, is that it?” Agent Tareen said, looking almost bored at this briefing.

“No, it gets worse.” Mr. Stark said and clicked on his phone again. He swiped his finger across it and pictures of lab data swirled across the screen.

“S.H.I.E.L.D. did some initial testing on him at the site and apparently he isn’t from our reality. He’s from a different form of Earth. Says his name is ‘Peter Maximoff’ and he’s a member of something called the “X-Men”.” Stark said using air quotations on the word.

“A Maximoff with superspeed. No shit.” You echoed and fell back in your chair. Suddenly feeling like you couldn’t breathe. Mr. Stark grinned with his mouth full and then clicked on his phone again. A side by side of Pietro Maximoff and this Peter Maximoff appeared and you raised an eyebrow. They didn’t look anything alike except for maybe the blonde hair.

“So here’s the thing, Mace doesn’t actually know about any of this. The only people that know about this are me, you three, and a team of doctors. S.H.I.E.L.D doesn’t,” he paused and put a hand to his chest. “Pardon my French, know shit and they didn’t do any tests. I did.”

You glanced nervously at Agent Tareen and Agent Iyer. You didn’t want to be involved in any schemes with Mr. Stark. Especially not after the Sokovia accords and the “Civil War”.

Mr. Stark watched as the three of you looked unamused and apprehensive. He sighed and sat at the head of the table, wheeling his chair in close. “Listen, I don't even know if Director Mace is actually in charge. I don’t know where Director Colson is. I don’t know if S.H.I.E.L.D is going to fall to Hydra again. I don’t know if someone’s going to come looking for this Peter guy and be more powerful than anyone we’ve ever seen. I don’t know who to trust here. And to be honest I don’t want anyone experimenting on someone from a different reality. This is the kind of thing we weren’t even aware existed until now. We don’t know what will happen. So for the time being, I’d like you to keep this man safe somewhere that isn’t a jail cell or an experiment lab.” Mr. Stark wheeled his chair closer and turned to look at you now.

“I understand your line of work is keeping superheroes safe and away from super villains or otherwise threats.” He said, raising his eyebrows. “So until we understand more about the multiverse or whatever, keep him safe and hidden”

And with that Mr. Stark wheeled far enough away from the table to stand, tapped on his phone again, and left the two pictures of Peter and Pietro staring at you three. He gave you one last look and left the room with the pictures staring at you.

The briefing room was dead silent before Agent. Iyer put his head in his hands.

“Fuck.” He said and you and Agent Tareen cracked a smile.

Fuck indeed.

“Someone’s gotta tell Ms. Wanda Maximoff,” Agent Tareen spoke up, biting her bottom lip. Agent Iyer nodded and miserably raised his head. He brought his hand up to rub at his forehead. You leaned back in your chair and sighed.

“I know that’s probably the best thing to do. But this is not her twin brother. This is a random person who happens to share her last name and brother's super power. Do you all think that hunting her down and telling her this would honestly be a good idea? To give her such intense false hope before she sees a stranger who has her brother’s name and powers? You don’t think that would be an insult to her twin and only family member since she was a kid?” You ended your statement by gesturing to the TV displaying the pictures of Peter Maximoff and Pietro Maximoff. Agent Iyer sighed as you did so.

You had made your point.

“So we keep it from her? Is that what we’re honestly planning on doing?” Agent Tareen sneered leaning forward in her chair. Her beige hijab shifting around her shoulders at her sudden movement. You turned your gaze to your friend and sighed.

“No I’m not saying we never tell her. When she comes out of hiding, yes I think we should. But now, when we haven’t even met him? That is not a good time.” You stared at Agent Tareen with pleading eyes. You were technically their boss, but the three of you were a team and you did not want to make a decision without all of you on board.

Agent Tareen sighed and looked away from you.

“Fine. But you will be the one to tell her.”

You nodded at that. That seemed perfectly fair.

You all adjusted your chairs to look at the screen. There was a file folder on the briefing table and you reached for it. You raised an eyebrow as you skimmed the pages.

“Apparently Peter Maximoff is in the building.” You muttered looking up to your team. Iyer raised an eyebrow while Tareen suppressed a smirk. You glanced between the two of them before the three of you burst out of the conference room.

“Where is he?” Iyer said, tucking a long black strand of hair behind his ear. You hastily opened the file.

“He’s in the west wing. Room W17.” You said closing and hugging the file to your chest. Tareen nodded and took off speed walking in the proper direction. You shrugged at Iyer and took off after her.

It wasn’t long before you three skidded to a stop. To your surprise it was a very large room without any windows. The only way to see the man was to go in. Tareen took a step back and put her hand out to stop Iyer.

“Well boss, warm him up for us. Don’t want to freak him out with an immediate power imbalance.” She said smartly, giving you a mock salute. You handed Iyer the file, repressed the urge to huff like a child, and turned to the door again.

You took a deep breath, showed your clearance to the door, and opened it.

Well. This wasn’t what you were expecting. Not even a little.

Mr. Maximoff was lounging back on a bean bag with a Nintendo Switch in his hands. He didn’t even glance up at you as he blindly reached down to his side and brought a Coke up to slurp through the straw.

You looked at him awkwardly for a minute or two before he finally glanced up.

“Agent Y/N Y/L/N. Gotta be honest, didn't expect a U.S. Marshal. I don’t even know what that is. You in the military? Cause I don’t really like em, sorry.” He said, cocking his head to the side.

You blinked a few times and looked at him helplessly.

“Um, what?” You floundered before it clicked that Mr. Stark must have told him you were coming. You cleared your throat and crossed your arms.

“Yes I am from the Marshal Service. As Mr. Stark must have said. My name is Agent Y/L/N. I am in charge of the H.O.M.E. sector of S.H.I.E.L.D.” He cut you off by suddenly leaning against the door behind you. You whipped around and stared at him. Eyes wide, not expecting a display of his power so soon.

“Nah I read your ID and then went through your wallet. Twenty bucks is kinda embarrassing. What does H.O.M.E. stand for?” He said leaning into your personal space. You narrowed your eyes as his nose was only an inch away from yours. You were friends with Agent Tareen for fuckssake, you could handle a game of chicken.

You tilted your chin up and looked him in the eyes. They were a deep brown that seemed almost black. It didn’t add to his slightly creepy atmosphere and like he could read your thoughts, his mouth twitched in a smile before he leaned back against the door.

“The Heroes Obscure Maneuver Extension.” You recited making Maximoff furrow his eyebrows. He crossed his arms and stared at you with an incredulous expression.

“That barely makes sense-.” You cut him off with a wave of your hand.

“This doesn’t matter. Mr. Maximoff-,” this time it was his turn to cut you off. He turned his head lazily to the side and frowned slightly.

“Call me Peter.” You stared briefly at the pronounced tendons in his neck before realising what was happening and taking a step back.

“Mr. Maximoff,” you stressed, staring at him intently. He blew some air out of his mouth in a childish horse impression. “It is my understanding you come from a different Earth. I regret to inform you that our faction of government isn’t exactly the most secure at the moment. If anyone finds out where you come from there will be an uproar, and you will be in danger. Mr. Stark has trusted my team to keep you safe until we understand more about the Multiverse to send you home.” You recited thinking back to the first sentence of his file. Objective: Get Maximoff home.

He seemed to ponder this before you blinked and he was missing from in front of you. You sighed and spun around trying to find him in the larger room. The white lights seemed too bright as the only thing really in this room was you two, and the stupid beanbag. You squint your eyes to see him holding the file that you had previously trusted to Agent Iyer.

He sat on the floor comfortably and thumbed through it. Humming every once in a while. You decided to sit down too. Just letting him read the file. It didn’t hold any groundbreaking information, just his blood work and the basic data Mr. Stark and his doctors knew about him.

You stretched out your legs and leaned against the wall maybe five feet from where he was sitting. After he finished looking at the entire thing he placed it down and then appeared sitting next to you. You were starting to get used to the way he could move faster than you could realise. You suppressed a smile.

You turned your head to you right to see him sitting with his knees drawn up.

“Alright Agent Y/L/N, whatever you gotta do. I gotta be honest this version of Earth ain’t so bad. You got cool games,” he gestured to the abandoned Switch next to the bean bag. “I’ll stick around for a while.”

You let out a breath you didn’t know you were holding and smiled warmly at him. He seemed slightly taken aback.

“Hey don’t go all soft on me, I’m just here for the free house you’re gonna give me. My parents' basement kinda blows.” You raised your eyebrows at him and let out a little laugh.

“You’re lucky I don’t send you to a tiny apartment. Sonic all contained in a cage.” You mused and pushed off the floor to stand. He wrinkled his nose and looked up.

“Don’t quote Sega to me. They ripped off my power. Was a whole lawsuit in my reality.” He explained, his eyebrows raised and a mock serious expression in his face. You arched an eyebrow as he grinned. You didn’t believe him for a second. You glanced at the door again and gestured to the file.

“You wanna meet my team now? We have a lot of work to do.” You asked, making him purse his lips.

“If that’s what the boss lady says.” He shrugged, and he popped up to stand next to you, the file clutched in his hand. You narrowed your eyes at him in a mocking glare and smoothed down your pants.

You gestured to the door and he strolled forward happily. Iyer and Tareen’s heads snapped up as you both exited the room.

“Maximoff, this is Agent Iyer and Agent Tareen, please don’t use your powers.” You said scrubbing your hand through your hair. Maximoff bobbed his head a few times, strikingly resembling a horse.

The four of you decided that leaving the compound was probably a bad idea. The only people in here were Avengers and a few others, S.H.I.E.L.D. had their own building. Hopefully no one would care if two women and two men walked around. You eyed Maximoff’s white sweater and grey sweatpants.

It’ll probably be fine. People actually lived here. Hopefully no one would notice.

“Uh hey do you happen to know where they put my stuff?” Your thoughts were interrupted when Maximoff leaned in close to your ear and whispered. Your eyes widened and you turned your head quickly to stare at him. Agents Iyer and Tereen walked slightly ahead of you. Their own voices quiet as you four strolled through the building.

“Yeah, we can stop by. They’re probably with Agent Haib, she’s a sucker for free shit.” You murmured, leaning closer for Maximoff to hear you.

“Mhm and we’re is she?” He asked tapping a finger to his mouth. You paused for a moment to think.

“Second floor east wing.”

He groaned and in a second was standing next to you with his headphones on his silver jacket and goggles.

You narrowed your eyes at him. “I told you not to use your powers,” he grinned cheekily and popped the collar. “That’s the one rule, jackass.” He winked at you and tugged the headphones on cutting you off.

You rolled your eyes and crossed your arms. This was going to be a long, long day.

besties aren't gonna like this one

Bodies, Bites, and Bitches

Part 1 of ? of Poly Teen Wolf Rewrite Series

Rating: Teen and Up

Pairing: Stiles Stilinski x reader (platonic paring) Scott McCall x reader (platonic pairing)

Word Count: 8.7k

Summary: You and your best friends prepare for sophomore year only for corpses, animal bites, new abilities, and a chilling red head keep your gang from having a normal first day.

Warnings: swearing, mentions of a dead body, bi!stiles,

A/N: Stiles is the most bisexual character I’ve ever seen so he’s bi in this fic. Mhm. In regards to the pairings, at the moment they are all just friends. Tadaaaa. Here’s the ficcc. Also gif is actually mine 🤷. More notes at the end if you wanna read what I have to say. If not that’s chill.

The soft whirring of your washing machine rumbled through the basement, spilling into your room from the laundry room next door. You stretched your arms above your head, eyes tired. 

You took a glance at the bottom corner of your laptop: 2 AM and lowered your arms with a groan. Why did you always do this to yourself? Every year, without fail, you pushed all your summer assignments to the last day. You had months to do them! But no, you just couldn’t. You had to write a paper about these drinks or something. Some history thing. Taking AP World History was a fucking mistake. You liked history, sure, but not enough to write a paper in the summer. It made you want to bash your brains out. 

You just couldn’t make words come out of you. 

You blew a breath of air out of your mouth and rubbed your eyes. This was not going great. 

Your phone lit up, buzzing happily next to you, the sound resonating from your wooden desk. You snatched it up and couldn’t resist an eye roll upon seeing who was texting you.

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

Mieczyslaw (2:02 AM): I WAS EAVESDROPPING AND SOME JOGGERS FOUND A BODY IN THE PRESERVE 

Mieczyslaw (2:02 AM): MEET ME AT SCOTTS 

Mieczyslaw (2:02 AM): WERE ALL GOING TO FIND IT 

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

Leave it to Stiles to bother you and Scott at two in the morning to try to find a dead human body. You glanced at your pathetic excuse of a paper and sighed. 

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

Y/N (2:03 AM): Be there in ten

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

You hugged your brown hoodie to yourself as you trudged through the thick blanket of leaves surrounding Scott’s house. Cringing as they crunched loudly under you, you swore under your breath. You were going to kill Stiles. 

You glanced back at the street in front of Scott’s house and didn’t see his blue Jeep yet. Good, more time to scheme Stiles’ gruesome death. 

Maybe you could hit him with his car. Let his prized possession end him. You’re sure he would actually like that. Be rather touched by your consideration of his feelings. 

You snorted to yourself and watched in amusement as the blue Jeep itself swerved to park behind your car. Stiles clambered out of the driver’s seat in a hurry. He slammed the door rather loudly for two in the morning and you cringed and stole a glance up at the house. Hoping to God it didn’t wake up Ms. McCall. 

Stiles took a step towards you, but lurched backwards, his jacket pocket stuck in the door. You watched as he spun around to free himself, curses flying from him as he tugged on the handle. You raised an eyebrow and leaned back on the railing of Scott’s porch. 

Idiot. 

Why were you even friends with him? 

He bounded up to you with a grin. 

“Hi.” He breathed out, cheeks red from the cold and most likely his embarrassment. 

Oh right. He was endearing. Ever since you three were small you had a soft spot for Stiles. He was always so earnest. Brushing off embarrassment, always having something funny to say, being the smartest person in the room. He was great to be around. 

Except when he had stupid fucking ideas. 

Like this one. 

This was a stupid fucking idea. 

You narrowed your eyes at him and punched his arm before he could say anything else. 

“Ow!” He cried out, shying away from you as he gripped his bicep. 

“Shhh!” You hissed, waving your hands in the space between you. His offended expression turned sheepish as he looked up at Ms. McCall’s window. 

“Sorry.” Stiles said, laughing awkwardly. You rolled your eyes and moved to the beam on the right. Stiles’ eyes lit up as he rushed over. 

“We should go knock on Scott’s window.” You said with a grin. Stiles bounced on the balls of his feet and nodded. 

“Yes. Absolutely.” 

You looked up at the roof hanging over you and then at the railing. 

“Here, stand on the railing, climb up, and once you're up, lend me a hand.” You explained gesturing to the railing. Stiles nodded and did as you said. He was about to lean down to grab your hand when you both heard the door open. You looked at Stiles in fear, his expression mimicking that of a deer in headlights. 

“Hide!” You whispered at him and quickly hopped over the rail into the big bush. You dropped to the ground and stayed in a crouch, trying to keep hidden. 

You hoped to God it wasn’t Ms. McCall. You couldn’t stand the embarrassment. She already thought Scott had a crush on you, if she saw you outside her house at 2 AM, you’d never hear the end of it. 

You heard the deck creak and from your vantage point, you saw a red hoodie creep closer. Scott McCall. You breathed out slowly and moved to stand, but of course the third of your trio was an idiot and ruined the calm of the night by falling. 

Stiles fell from his spot on the roof, dangling upside down. His feet jammed under the trellis that Ms. McCall grew tomatoes on in the spring. You shrieked, jumping up, thinking he was about to fall on his face. Scott screamed, raising the bat, that he apparently had at the two of you. And lastly Stiles started yelling as the crooked jaw boy raised a baseball bat to his head. You three screamed for a couple seconds before realising there was no danger, and you were all being idiots. 

“Stiles! Y/N! What the hell are you doing?!” Scott cried, lowering his bat, and staring slack jawed at the upside-down boy and then looking down at you with disbelief. 

“You weren't answering your phone.” Stiles cried out gesturing to you like your presence there made him innocent. You stifled a smile and wiped at your forehead. These boys were going to age you.

“Why do you have a bat?” You asked, propping your elbow on the porch railing. You put your chin in your hand and batted your eyelashes up at Scott. 

He reddened and let his hand fall behind his back, as if he could hide the fact, he almost used Stiles as a piñata. 

“I thought you were a predator.” He mumbled to Stiles, spreading his arms wide. You grinned at his embarrassment. 

“A pre— I— wha—,” Stiles flailed. You were kind of amazed he was hanging so well. 

“Look. I know it's late, but you gotta hear this.” Stiles' arms stopped fighting gravity and hung straight down, nearly hitting you in the face. You glared up at him but decided to let him talk. You also wanted to know what the fuck was going on. 

“I saw my dad leave 20 minutes ago. Dispatch called. They're bringing in every officer from the Beacon Department, and even State Police.” He looked down at you and grinned manically. You raised your eyebrows. Shit. You didn’t know dead bodies got that much interest. 

They only would if the killer hadn’t been caught.

You froze and looked up at Stiles. He wasn’t expecting you three to waltz into the woods while a literal murderer was on the loose, was he?

You tried to stop your thoughts from racing. The body was probably old. Stiles had texted you that joggers had found it. No jogger would be out at two, it had to have been found earlier. It was probably fine. You chewed at your lip and looked back up at them. 

“For what?” Scott asked. 

“Two joggers found a body in the woods.” Stiles said, his breath visible in the late summer night. He used this dramatic ass reveal to finally get himself down. He unstuck his feet and fell into the bush beside you. 

“Hi.” He said grinning at you as he stuck the landing. You smiled. 

“Hi Stiles.”

“A dead body?” Scott cried looking down at the both of you. You snorted at this and rolled your eyes. Leave it to Scott to do a reality check. 

“No, a body of water.” Stiles deadpanned looking at you in exasperation. “Yes, dumbass, a dead body.” He hissed looking back up at Scott. He climbed over the railing and stood on the porch next to Scott. 

“Need help?” Stiles asked, looking at you. You shrugged and raised your hand. Scott grabbed your hand and hauled you up, probably eager to listen to the rest of the story. You picked some leaves off your shirt as you stood next to him. 

“Were they murdered?” You asked, trying to see if your killer theory held water. 

“Nobody knows yet.” Stiles said, putting his hands on his hips. “Just that it was a girl, probably in her 20s.”

“Hold on, if they found the body, then what are they looking for?” Scott asked annoyance on his face at how casually Stiles was speaking. You raised your eyebrows and looked at Stiles. That was a good fucking point you hadn’t thought about yet. 

Stiles couldn’t contain his grin. “That's the best part.” He paused for effect looking between you and Scott. “They only found half.” He sang grinning fully now.

You and Scott shared a look of disbelief. 

“We're going.” Stiles said with a smirk. You reached down and grabbed the bat in Scott’s arms. 

Scott nodded absently as you gripped it tighter, seeming to agree you should be the one to have it. 

“Well. Your car or mine?” You asked, twisting your grip on the bat. Stiles drummed on his thighs in excitement. 

“That’s the spirit! Obviously, mine.” He said and joyfully cantered to his Jeep. You fell in with Scott as you walked over. 

“You sure this is a good idea?” You whispered to him, trying to keep Stiles from overhearing. 

Scott shrugged. “Nope.”

You threw your head back in a laugh despite the slowly worsening atmosphere. This was almost positively a horrible idea. You felt like the kids from that movie, Stand by Me. You read The Body by Stephan King last summer, but you could only remember the actor’s names and not the characters. Maybe you could be River Phoenix. You had such a big crush on him when you were younger. You eyed Stiles as he happily opened his car, he was Corey Feldman for sure. 

Scott opened the back and got in before you even reached the car, knowing you got car sick and needed to have the passenger seat. You smiled to yourself as you slid in the familiar blue Jeep. 

As much of a pain these boys caused you, you really did love them. 

You sucked in a breath and turned to look at your friends. 

“Let’s go find a dead body.” 

---

Stiles pulled slowly up to the parking lot next to the Beacon Hills Preserve. The ominous ‘No Entry After Dark’ on the sign made you gulp. Might as well break that rule too. 

Before Stiles could turn off the car you unbuckled your seatbelt and jumped out, Scott’s baseball bat gripped tightly in your hand. You personally didn’t want to be in the car when Stiles would start either a rant or a speech about something or another. He talked when he was nervous. You toed at some rocks on the ground for a few moments before Scott stepped out of the car too. 

Stiles bounced over in a flash, standing with his back to the entrance and looking at both of you. 

“Shall we?” He hummed and walked backwards a few steps, looking at Scott, then at you with a smirk. You stuck your tongue out at him and gripped the bat even tighter. 

“Why don’t you lead the way?” You cooed making Stiles make a face at you. He spun around and started walking into the forest. 

“After you.” Scott mumbled quietly. You didn’t feel like teasing him and just nodded, following the familiar buzz cut deeper in the woods. 

---

“We're seriously doing this?” Scott asked as you three walked. You had been waking for maybe ten minutes. Stiles had pulled a flashlight from his pocket and wasn’t being subtle at shining it everywhere. 

“You two are always bitching that nothing ever happens in this town.” Stiles called from in front of you. You scoffed and looked around the creepy forest, knowing there was a dead woman lying somewhere. 

“Yeah well, I meant like a carnival or something.  Not a half dead girl in the preserve.” You muttered kicking a stick. 

“And I was trying to get a good night's sleep before practice tomorrow.” Scott said from somewhere behind you. You smiled as Stiles looked over his shoulder to give you a look. 

“Right, cause being a benchwarmer requires finesse.” You teased. 

“No, because I'm playing this year. In fact, I'm making first line.” You had to admit Scott’s determination and idiocy was rather charming. 

“Hey, I like how you think, Scotty.” You said making your voice sweet. “Gotta believe it to be true. That whole manifesting idea.” 

“Everyone should have a dream, even a pathetically unrealistic one.” Stiles added, giving you a sly smile over his shoulder.  

Scott laughed lightly at your teasing and you three walked for a few more moments. You twirled the bat lazily. 

“Just out of curiosity, which half of the body are we looking for?” Scott said, breaking the silence. You blinked in surprise; you didn’t think to ask that. 

“Huh!” Stiles said, stopping in his tracks. You and Scott caught up to him and you two looked at him in disbelief. “I didn't even think about that.” He confessed sheepishly. 

“Yikes.” You said. Scott snorted and looked around the dark woods suspiciously. “And, uh, what if whoever killed the body is still out here?” 

Stiles nodded with an impressed look, “Also something I didn't think about.”

“You’re such an idiot.” You said with your eyes narrowed. 

“It's…comforting to know you've planned this out with your usual attention to detail.” Scott said with a shrug. You smiled at him and brushed some hair out of your face. 

“I know.” Stiles said with a triumphant smile. Stiles gestured with his head towards a small hill and started to walk up it. You gripped some roots as you trudged upwards. You heard the gasps of air behind you and felt a pang of worry at Scott. 

You slowed once you got to the top and watched as he fell into a sit against a tree, shaking his inhaler and taking a puff. 

“Maybe the severe asthmatic should be the one holding the flashlight, huh?” He gasped out to Stiles who was continuing onwards. 

You bit your lip but followed Stiles as he scrambled to lay on his stomach in the dry leaves. You hurried to lay next to him, and Scott fell in on your other side. 

You three stared at a line of men walking with their own flashlights and dogs. You grimaced and hastily shoved Stiles’ flashlight into the leaves. 

“Put that out! They’ll see it.” You hissed. He scrambled with it before clicking the off button. He hurried onto his feet and jogged away. 

“Wait, come on!” He called in a whisper yell as he ran. 

“Stiles!” Scott yelled, shaking his inhaler. You looked between them and moved to chase after Stiles. Scott had his inhaler; he could keep up. 

“Wait up!” Scott yelled at you. You slowed down but kept following Stiles in his frenzy to go…wherever it was that Stiles was going. 

“Stiles!” You yelled this time. You kept your eyes on the line of men moving your way. You rushed forward, following Stiles as he tried to find the end of their line and get to safety. You heard Scott trip behind you and him yell your name. 

“Y/N!” You almost rammed into Stiles as he stopped to look back for Scott. You did the same and took a couple steps towards where you heard his voice last. 

A dog barking, much louder this time, stopped you cold as you felt the warmth of a flashlight on you. Stiles fell to his back as the dog came closer and tried to attack him. You looked at the man holding him. 

“Stop!” You yelled trying to keep your friend safe. Stiles kept scrambling back. 

“Hold it right there! And you don’t move!” The cop yelled, keeping his flashlight on you and the dog on Stiles. You gulped and looked helplessly as the dog strained against the leash to try and get at Stiles. 

“Hang on, hang on.” Someone yelled. You turned and nearly started swearing once you saw who it was. 

Sheriff Stilinski. Stiles’ dad. 

“This little delinquent belongs to me.” He said looking down at Stiles with disappointment. He looked up at you and sighed. “I know that one too.” 

Stiles scrambled up and you gripped his sleeve. You gave him a once over to make sure he was alright, and you both turned to the Sherriff like you were children again and he caught you stealing cookies from Mrs. Stilinski’s cookie jar. 

“Dad, how are you doing?” Stiles asked, trying to appear casual. You let his sleeve go and shook your head at him. 

“So, do you, uh, listen in to all of my phone calls?” Mr. Stilinski asked, lips tight in disappointment. Stiles flailed for an answer. 

“No, heh. Not the boring ones.” He confessed with a grimace. Mr. Stilinski nodded softly and looked at you. 

“I see you dragged Y/N down with you as usual.” He looked around at the trees then. “Where’s the third of your trio?”

You wanted to speak up, but decided this was between Stiles and his dad, talking would only make things worse. 

“Who, Scott?” Stiles exclaimed with a fake laugh. “Sc - Scott's home. He said he wanted to get a good night's sleep for the first day back at school tomorrow.” He sighed and looked at you quickly in apology. You knew what he was about to say, and you were glad the Sheriff wasn’t looking at you. Your disgusted face would give away the lie. 

“It's just us. In the woods. Alone. Romantic time?” Stiles said, making it sound completely unbelievable as his voice cracked on the last word. You pursed your lips as Mr. Stilinski looked at you and then raised his flashlight to look into the woods. 

“Scott, you out there? Scott?” He yelled scanning through the trees for any sign of him. He seemed to be satisfied and looked back at you and Stiles with a sigh.  

“Well, young man, I'm gonna walk you back to your car.” Mr. Stilinski stepped forward and grabbed Stiles by the back of the neck, hauling him forward. You followed, baseball bat dragging sadly in the mud. 

“And you and I are gonna have a conversation about something called invasion of privacy and how to treat someone on a date.” You covered your mouth with your hand to keep from laughing as you three walked back the way you had come. 

Stiles kept saying ‘ow’ every two seconds, probably hoping to annoy his dad into letting his neck go, but no dice. 

While Mr. Stilinski was distracted, you stole a lasting glance behind you, hoping Scott could see you. A skinny, asthmatic, sixteen-year-old, all alone in the woods with a plethora of police and half a dead body. What could go wrong? Would the police catch Scott? And if they didn't, how would he get home? 

Beacon Hills wasn’t the biggest town, and you weren’t very far into the ever-expanding preserve. But Scott might have to take a roundabout way through the woods to get to the road. Being seen by the police wouldn’t be a good thing. Especially if Mr. Stilinski wasn’t there. They might think he was a killer or something. 

That led you to another thought as you were walking back to Stiles’ car. Rain started to trickle down the canopy of leaves, leaving your hoodie damp and heavy. 

The cop seemed so ready to catch someone. Was so ready to let his dog attack Stiles. His face when the Sheriff had told him off was somehow disappointed. 

You crossed your arms and stepped into the parking lot next to Stiles’ Jeep. 

They haven't found whoever killed the woman. So the killer really was out there. Maybe even out here in the woods.

Mr. Stilinski let his hand drop and he gently shoved Stiles closer to his car. You stepped in next to him and faced the Sheriff together. 

He sighed and brought a hand to wipe some rain away from his eyes. 

“Stiles. I know you have an interest in these things, but there is a dead woman in the woods. Her family is in mourning, the entire department is on the lookout trying to give them some peace. This is real life, not an interesting movie or tv show.” Stiles ducked his head in embarrassment. You kicked some pebbles. 

“The woods at night is no place for teenagers. Especially when there is something dangerous going on. When I get calls about cases,” Mr. Stilinski made a pointed look at Stiles. “Do not follow me to them. For Pete's sake you could get hurt.”

Stiles opened his mouth to argue, but you elbowed him as inconspicuously as you could. He shut up.

“And bringing Y/N here. I don’t believe you guys were on a date, but if you were, really?” It was his turn to give you a look. One that read disappointment. “Thought you had more sense than to go canoodling in the woods with Stiles.”

“Hey!” Stiles interjected as you grinned at the Sheriff. 

“Yes sir.” You said trying not to laugh at the offended expression Stiles was making at you two. The Sheriff smiled and gave Stiles a pat on the shoulder. 

“We’ll talk more in the morning. Now get Y/N home. You two have school tomorrow.” And with that he gave you two one last look and headed back into the preserve. 

“C’mon Mieczyslaw.” You said making Stiles groan as you got into his car. 

“I’m so lucky you’re here. He would’ve talked my ear off about safety and privacy and being a sixteen-year-old.” Stiles huffed, grimacing. He turned the key into the ignition and you two pulled away from the woods and whatever was laying in it. 

You leaned your head onto the window and closed your eyes. Stiles was silent for once as he started the drive to your house. 

Your car wouldn’t be in the driveway. But as long as you left for school before your parents woke up it would be fine. Could have Stiles pick you up and give them a lie about wanting to ask your teacher a question. 

You grimaced as you thought of it. Early on the first day of school? Your parents better not start having expectations from you. 

Stiles drummed a pattern on the steering wheel with his thumbs and it was a comforting sound. 

You couldn’t help but notice Mr. Stilinski avoided saying anything about what killed the woman. Just that the woods were dangerous. Maybe he meant that there was either an animal or a murderer on the loose. You didn’t know of any animal that could rip a person apart at the waist though. 

Probably a person. 

People were vicious. 

“You think it was an anim-” 

“No.” You said cutting Stiles off. He looked over at you and stuck his tongue out. At least you were in agreement it was a person not an animal attack. 

“Should’ve left you in the woods. Scott wouldn’t treat me this way.” He sniffed as he pulled into your driveway. You smirked and unbuckled your seatbelt. 

“Mhm. Pick me up at 6 so my parents don’t see my car is missing.” Stiles groaned and leaned his head down on the steering wheel. You laughed and ran a hand over his buzzed hair. He swatted at your hand as you laughed some more. You got out of his Jeep and glared at the sky as rain pummeled you. 

“Bye Stiles.” You called as you walked up to your door. You turned to see him mocking you by mouthing the words with a miserable expression. You smiled as he drove away. 

Scott was dead for sure.

You pursed your lips and nodded. 

Yep. 

Dead. 

You and Stiles were also the worst friends in the history of friends. 

You pushed open your front door and looked around suspiciously for your parents. Thankfully they were asleep, and you trudged downstairs to your room. 

You glanced at your open laptop and groaned; eyes squeezed shut in pain. 

The fuckin essay. 

---

You groaned and hit the off button on your alarm clock. 5:40 AM flashed at you in angry red lighting. 

Fuckin joy. 

You were going to kill Stiles again for this. 

Every plan he had; made you suffer. You smiled to yourself as you rolled out of bed. You could probably blame everything on Stiles if you thought hard enough. 

You stumbled into your bathroom. 

Your broken finger in 4th grade was from a volleyball being thrown at you and it bending the wrong way. Who was next to you and could probably have gotten the ball? Stiles. You brushed your teeth as you cussed out baby Stiles in your mind. 

You got caught cheating on your 8th grade science test. Who was the idiot who couldn’t move his paper a little closer to you, so it didn’t look suspicious? Stiles. 

You changed your clothes quickly and quietly made your way upstairs. 

Everything was obviously Stiles’ fault. You and Scott were just poor accomplices. 

You were suddenly filled with memories of when you and Scott had shoved Stiles onto the ice-skating rink one year which resulted in him breaking an arm. Guilt swarmed in your mind and you sighed it away.

You grabbed your backpack and shrugged. Obviously, Stiles’ fault for not knowing how to skate. 

You tumbled outside and were relieved to see the Jeep sitting in your driveway. You hated waiting in the cold. You shoved your backpack at your feet and climbed into the car. 

“Morning.” You said with a yawn. Stiles covered his mouth as he yawned in response. 

“I really hate you.” He said and pulled out to drive to the school. 

You nodded. 

That was fair. 

“You get Scott’s text last night?” Stiles asked, turning onto the main road. You straightened your shirt and shook your head, looking over at him. 

He was wearing a blue shirt with a target on it, a gray hoodie, and a blazer of all things on top of it. He looked kind of stupid, but somehow kind of cool? 

Maybe cool wasn’t the right word. It matched him. It was a thrown together outfit that somehow coordinated to match his personality. Random pieces that shouldn’t fit together but do. Like the things he said never seemed to correlate, but they still made you and Scott laugh because of how true they were. 

Stiles pulled into a parking spot towards the back of the school, as a sophomore, your class wasn’t prioritized for parking spots. He dug out his phone and handed it to you.

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

Scott (3:43 AM): I just got bit by some animal or something. I’m at home by the way 

Stiles (3:43 AM): Shit how bad is it? You text Y/N?

Scott (3:43 AM): I texted, but she didn’t answer 

Stiles (3:44 AM): I’m sorry man. You should get some sleep and like patch it up or something

Scott (3:45 AM): I’m goin to bed but I got a huge gauze on the bite 😬 

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

You turned to Stiles a little sheepishly. You had chucked your phone on your bed and cranked out your stupid essay until around 4 AM. 

You didn’t want any more texts from either of your idiot friends. In retrospect that was really stupid as Scott could’ve tried texting you for help or something. But you were glad he was okay and got home. 

You raised your eyebrow and handed him back his phone. 

“A bite, hm?”

“Yeah, I know.” He said, turning to grab his backpack from the back seat. You jerked out of the way when his lacrosse stick almost whacked you in the face.

“He could’ve gotten mauled or something. We’re grounded from hanging with Scott for at least a week.” You said making Stiles whip around and shove you lightly into your door. 

“We’re grounded?!” He exclaimed jaw dropping, but you noticed the corners of his mouth were tilting upwards in a smile. 

“Yeah, grounded!” You replied, laughing and threw your door open. He laughed and followed you outside. 

“What, did your parents implement this?” Stiles mused nudging you. You made a face as you both started walking towards the entrance. 

“It’s me. Don’t want Scott to get dragged into more danger for at least a week.” You said crossing your arms. Stiles groaned. 

“Then we can’t go to the stupid restaurant you love.” Stiles said, gesturing wildly. It was your turn for your jaw to drop and you spun around to walk backwards, wanting to face Stiles instead of glance at him sideways. 

“Okay first off, Kelly’s isn’t stupid. Not my fault you and Scott decided to order the spicy chili fries. It says ‘spicy’ on it. You two should’ve known it would kill your stomach and give you  diarrhe-” Stiles cut you off by rushing forward and covering your mouth with his palm. You glared at him and licked his hand making him jerk away in disgust. 

“Don’t need to be yelling that for the whole school to hear.” Stiles said with an awkward laugh, wiping his hand on your shoulder. You rolled your eyes but let him do it. 

“Oh, look there’s Scotty!” You yelled suddenly, spotting your friend by the plants in front of the entrance. You widened your eyes at Stiles playfully and ran over, leaving him to chase after you. 

“Alright let’s see the damage.” You said bounding over to Scott. He sighed and lifted his shirt without another word. 

“Ooh!” Stiles cringed out as he came to stand next to you, looking at the large white bandage on Scott’s otherwise golden skin. 

“Yeah.” Scott said flatly. 

Stiles and you made to touch it and Scott jerked back with a Whoa! 

“It was too dark to see much, but I'm pretty sure it was a wolf.” He said, narrowing his eyes at you two. 

“A wolf bit you?” Stiles asked, looking at you. You furrowed your eyebrows. At least he wasn’t knifed by whoever killed the woman. Animal attack wasn’t so bad, even if it could never be a wolf. 

“Uh huh.” Scott said. 

You furrowed your eyebrows and shared a look with Stiles. “No. Wasn’t a wolf” 

“I heard a wolf howling.” 

“No, you didn't.” Stiles said, crossing his arms. Scott floundered and looked at you in disbelief. 

“What do you mean, no, I didn't? How do you know what I heard?” Scott asked annoyance bleeding into his voice. 

“California doesn't have wolves. There was this whole eradication thing ages ago. Did you not listen in middle school history, you nerd?” You asked tilting your head to look at Scott. Stiles nodded in agreement. 

“Really?” Scott asked in disbelief. 

“Yes, really.” Stiles said with a small laugh. “There are no wolves in California.”

You leaned your head on Scott’s shoulder then. Your forehead pressing onto him. He absentmindedly patted your head. 

“All right, well, if you don't believe me about the wolf, then you're definitely not gonna believe me when I tell you I found the body.” Scott said triumphantly. You sighed and pushed off Scott as Stiles grabbed both of his shoulders, shaking him a little. 

“You— are you kidding me?”

“No, guys, I wish. I'm gonna have nightmares for a month.” Scott said with a shudder. You frowned and patted his arm sympathetically. 

“Oh, God, that is freakin' awesome. I mean, this is seriously gonna be the best thing that's happened to this town since,” Stiles looked around to think of something better than dead bodies and grinned, eyes catching something. “—Since the birth of Lydia Martin.”

The girl in question walked by, strawberry curls bouncing as she smiled with her friends. “Hey, Lydia— You look— Like you're gonna ignore me.” Stiles said with a grin fading. Scott snickered and you tried to hide your smile at Stiles making an ass out of himself. You grabbed your water from your backpack. 

“Stiles you get obsessed way too easily.” You said taking a sip of the water. He spun around, arms almost whacking into Scott as he looked at you. 

“I do not! It’s just Lydia Martin.” You gave him an unimpressed look and took another sip. 

“Remember Luke Freeman in fifth grade?” You said talking around your straw. Scott snorted into his hand at Stiles’ face. You started ticking names off your fingers. 

“Or Jake Amin? Or Olivia Diaz? Or-” 

Stiles cut you off by slapping your water bottle out of your hand. You watched it spill onto the ground, it lands on its side, water pooling from it. 

You looked up at Stiles with eyes narrowed, annoyed. Scott bent down with a wince and handed it back to you. 

“Okay! Let’s talk about something other than all the people I’ve had desperate crushes on. Don’t need to dwell on that right now.” Stiles exclaimed, putting a hand on your shoulder, and shoving you towards the school entrance. You made eye contact with Scott and cackled as you were shoved. 

“Scott, you're the cause of this, you know.” Stiles grumbled, hiking up his backpack. 

“Uh huh.”

“Draggin' me down to your nerd depths.” Stiles continued as you three stepped into the building. “Me and Y/N are nerds by association. We’ve been scarlet - nerded by you.”

You shook your head at Stiles with a smile on your face. 

“Oh hey, I’ll stay for your practice and maybe you drive me and Scott over to his house? I need my car.” You asked moving to walk towards your locker. Stiles nodded, eyes darting around the hallway. You and Scott exchanged unamused looks as Stiles’ eyes settled on Lydia Martin. 

He was a mess. 

“We’ll see you later Y/N.” Scott said, dragging Stiles towards their class. You smiled and turned the other direction to head towards your history class. It was always annoying when they had a class together and you didn’t. But you had two classes with Scott and two with Stiles, so it made up for it. One of the classes had them both in it. You were looking forward to that one: Chemistry. It was going to be a shit show for sure. 

You dropped your bag down next to a desk in the back and crossed your arms on the table and nestled into them. Maybe you could sleep through the misery and maybe your teacher would forget to ask for everyone to turn in their essays. 

“Alright class, put your summer essays into the basket over there.” Your older teacher said breezing into the room once the bell rang. 

Or not. 

You handed your paper to an acquaintance with a puppy dog look, and he rolled his eyes and walked over to the basket for you. 

“You’re pathetic Y/N.” Danny Mahealani said sitting back down in front of you. You stuck your tongue out at him and rested your head back into your arms. 

---

The bell rang and you sat up in a jolt. No one seemed to notice that you had fallen asleep, and you grabbed your bag and followed Danny out with a sheepish smile directed towards your teacher. 

“Pathetiiic.” Danny called as you headed to Scott’s locker. You flipped him off over your shoulder and smiled at Scott in greeting. You furrowed your eyebrows when you saw he was staring off across the hall. You turned to see what he was looking at. If he was going to stare so openly then you might as well.

A tall pretty girl with pale skin and a long blue scarf was talking to Lydia Martin. You blinked in surprise and turned to look back at Scott. 

Someone was smitten and it was only 9:00 in the morning. Stiles looked longingly at Lydia, and you rolled your eyes. 

Make that two people smitten. 

You clapped loudly and they both blinked in surprise to see you standing there. 

“Who’s she?” You asked, nodding behind you. 

Cierra, a girl you used to be partners with in science last year, pulled up next to Stiles. “She's in our English class. She’s new. Her name is Allison Argent.” 

You nodded at her, impressed. Stiles and Scott were idiots, they were too busy drooling to give you the juicy information. 

You settled in between Scott and Stiles and leaned against the lockers. 

“Can someone tell me how she’s here all of five minutes, and she's already hanging out with Lydia's clique?” Cierra asked, making you snort at Stiles' face. He looked both envious and way too knowledgeable on the workings of Lydia Martin. You crossed your arms, knowing he was about to say something either stupid or true. 

“Because she's hot. Beautiful people herd together.” 

You weren’t disappointed. Stupid, yet true. 

“Nuh uh there’s gotta be a reason.” Cierra said with furrowed brows. 

“Name one person in their group that isn’t hot. Just one. Name one.” Stiles said getting surprisingly worked up about this. You thought for a moment and snapped your fingers. 

“Danny isn’t the best looking.” You mainly said this because of him razzing you earlier. He was fine. Liking someone based on looks was stupid anyway. 

“That’s cause you aren’t a gay guy.” Stiles said, waving his hand at you in dismissal. You laughed and shifted to look at Scott. He was still staring at Allison and Lydia. You looked over. Also, Jackson Whittemore was there now. Yikes. 

You never understood what Lydia saw in him, but then again, she seemed rather shallow. 

But you didn’t really know either of them. Maybe Jackson was a nice guy? You couldn’t keep the smile off your face as you thought that. Yeah, no. He was a total dick. 

The warning bell rang, and you sighed. You grabbed Scott’s sleeve and tugged him away from his creepy staring. 

“C’mon we got chemistry.” You said and pulled Stiles along for good measure. Cierra gave you a look that said, ‘why do you talk to these idiots?’ And rushed away to her next class. 

“Yo! Lay off the merchandise.” Stiles huffed pulling away from you. You rolled your eyes and shoved him into the Chemistry classroom.

Why did you hang out with them? 

---

School passed quickly with every class containing talks about the syllabus and talk about the body. At lunch Scott announced their English teacher had said a person was in custody. You nearly threw your sandwich at Stiles when he didn’t know who it was. He was supposed to be good at keeping tabs on criminal activity in Beacon Hills. He was an honest disappointment. 

The last bell rang, and you stumbled out of your ceramics class that you had to share with Lydia and Allison.

You eyed them as you walked behind them to the lacrosse field. 

Where to begin with Lydia Martin.

Stiles had a crush on her since the third grade. Well, he had a crush on a lot of people since then, but she was always the constant one. She was very beautiful, in a sophisticated way. You didn’t know what the Martin’s did, but it had to be something with a lot of money. That, or Lydia was amazing at buying knock off designer brands. If that was the case, then she went up several rungs on her likability ladder. 

Other than her clear sense of high-end fashion, there wasn’t much you knew about her. She had a lot of friends and was dating Jackson Whittemore who was the captain of the lacrosse team. But that was it? As long as Stiles had been trailing after her you never really saw a glimpse into her personality. Sure, you could make deductions based on what you say; entitled, rude, cunning, but you didn’t actually know her. 

You thought her entitled and rude because of how dismissive she acted towards Stiles. Then again if you were a hot popular girl and a gangly nerdy boy wouldn’t stop hitting on you, then yeah you would be dismissive too. Hell, if anyone wouldn’t stop hitting on you for years you would be uncomfortable. 

You bit you lip and decided fuck it.

“Hey, you’re Allison, right? The new girl?” You asked, stepping in line with the two other girls. Lydia blinked in surprise at you so clearly disregarding her authority. Allison turned to smile at you. 

“Yeah I am.” She said warmly. 

You stuck out your hand as you three stepped outside to walk towards the lacrosse field. 

“Y/N Y/L/N.” You said and she shook your hand with a laugh. Lydia eyed you carefully but didn’t say anything. 

“Are you staying to watch the practice?” Allison asked, adjusting her bag on her shoulder. You nodded with a sort of grimace on your face. She laughed and exchanged a look with Lydia. 

“What’s that face for?” Allison exclaimed. 

“I left my car at my friend's house and after practice we’re going to go get it. I love my friends, but watching practice is so boring.” You rambled. Allison nodded and Lydia narrowed her eyes slightly. 

“You’re Stiles Stilinski’s girlfriend.” Lydia stated with a blank look. 

You tripped over your shoe and almost face planted if it weren’t for Allison grabbing you with fast reflexives. You blinked in shock and stared at Lydia. 

“You know his name?!” You sputtered before realizing what she just said and shaking your head quickly. “Never mind. No, we're not dating. Ew!” You exclaimed. You weren’t usually this caught off guard. Out of the three of you, you were always the levelheaded calm one. 

Lydia pursed her lips and looked ahead at the field. Allison looked between you both with furrowed eyebrows. 

You always had people thinking you were dating either Scott or Stiles. It was something you were accustomed to denying. But to hear it out of Lydia Martins mouth threw you through a loop. You spotted Scott and Stiles walking from the locker rooms. 

“I’m going to sit over here. Was nice talking to you Allison.” You said wanting to get the actual fuck away from Lydia. You didn’t think she knew anyone outside of her circle of popular hot people. Allison nodded with a smile and Lydia just crossed her arms, looking bored. 

She was a lot more perceptive than you gave her credit for. Not only did she know Stiles’ name, but she knew you were close friends. That was very interesting. 

You peeled away from the other girls and walked towards the right side of the bleachers. You dropped your bag onto the bottom row. It was placed directly behind the bench, and you usually spent practices talking with Stiles and Scott. It wasn’t often that you went to the lacrosse practices though. They were, like you said, boring and it just felt awkward. Like you were expected to be a cheerleader and not just throw pebbles and watch them tink off your boy’s safety pads. 

You sighed and settled onto the metal bench, waiting for your friends to catch up to you. You had a lot to say to Stiles. 

You heard the metal thunk of footsteps on the small bleachers behind you. No doubt Lydia and Allison moving to the top row. That’s where Lydia usually sat whenever you had the displeasure of sitting at practices. 

“-My whole life is sitting on the sidelines. This season, I make first line.” You heard the tail end of Scott and Stiles conversation, and Scott dropped his bag next to the bench. Stiles sat down on the bench with a huff. Scott didn’t sit down though. You looked up to see him staring at someone, almost frozen. 

You looked over your shoulder and nearly rolled your eyes. 

Of course. You forgot he was smitten with Allison. 

“McCall!” Coach Finstock yelled, breaking your friend's trance. Scott spun around to look at him. 

You leaned forward and rested your chin on Stiles’ shoulder. He glanced back at you and brought a hand up to ruffle your hair. 

You were about to bring up the fact that Stiles’ crush since childhood thought you and him were dating when a loud whistle blew across the field. You glanced up to see who Coach Finstock was whistling at and furrowed your eyebrows when you saw he was glaring at you. 

“Y/L/N! What have I told you about distracting my players? Move up the bleachers!” He yelled pointing to the top row. You jerked away from Stiles quickly. 

Way to embarrass you in front of the team like that Coach. You gave him a half ass wave and he turned back to yelling at Scott. Scott looked over and gave you a shrug. 

You sat awkwardly near Lydia and refused to look at her. You looked down at the field and raised your eyebrows when Coach lightly hit Scott in the face. 

Fuckin Coach. 

Coach Bobby Finstock was kind of a menace. But he also reminded you of Stiles. 

You shifted in your seat as Scott stood at goal. 

“Who is that?” Allison asked and you glanced over and followed her eyeline. She was looking at Scott. You tried not to snort as you rested your chin in your palm, elbow propped on your knee. This was new. Someone was trying to get with Scott. You casually leaned closer to the girls to hear their conversation better. 

“Him?” Lydia asked. “I'm not sure who he is. Why?”

Now that was even more interesting. She knew Stiles and you but didn’t know Scott. That or she was lying. Or even more fun she didn’t want her new best friend getting involved with a “lesser then” like Scott. Not that he was anything less than a babe, but he was no Jackson Whittemore. 

“He's in my English class.” Allison said with a shake of her head. 

A whistle blew signaling to the team to start making attempts at the goal. You looked down at the field and almost shot up in your seat. Scott was grabbing his head like he was in pain. You looked down at Stiles, but he wasn’t turned to you. Coach didn’t look concerned. You glanced around. No one did. 

It was times like this that your friends tested your coddling skills. You never said it out loud, but every time Scott played, whether it be in practice or at games, you were extremely worried for him. 

You had taken to bringing extra water whenever he was playing. Having water to drink made him breathe a little easier and you were worried for him. You knew he loved lacrosse, but if it were up to you, he wouldn’t be playing at all. You were as reckless as both he and Stiles, but you had no problems going all mother hen whenever they did something to endanger themselves. 

Someone in the line took this moment to launch a ball at Scott. He was still clutching his head in pain, and it hit him square in the face. His helmet kept his nose from being broken, but the force of the impact made him fall backwards in goal. 

The team along with Coach started laughing and you glared harshly down at them. 

You hated almost everyone on the lacrosse team. 

Scott got back up and you cocked your head to the side. He looked focused, calm, ready. 

Another player made an attempt at goal, but Scott caught it easily. You grinned and clapped a few times. You heard Stiles yelling encouragement. 

Another player threw their ball and Scott caught it with a slight shift in his stance. 

Goal after goal he caught them all. 

“He seems like he's pretty good.” You heard Allison say. You grinned over at her. You didn’t know how this was happening, but he was on fire. 

“Oh, very good.” Lydia mused and you didn’t like that tone at all. You glanced over at her. She better not get any ideas. 

On the field, Jackson Whittemore cut to the front of the line and in a series of runs and jumps, he made the most extra shot on goal. You raised your eyebrows and watched with increasing nerves as Scott braced to catch it. 

He lunged to the side and caught it easily. 

You whooped, getting to your feet and start clapping loudly. On the bench Stiles bursts up with a happy yell. Lydia Martin also gets to her feet while clapping. You didn’t know if you should bring that up to Scott and Stiles later. 

“That is my friend!” Stiles yells and you laugh along with his joy. 

You notice Lydia looking down at Jackson with a look that says, ‘display of power makes me go brrrr’. You were probably exaggerating, but still. Lydia wasn’t cheering for her boyfriend; she was cheering for his embarrassment. You shook off your thoughts of Lydia and her further confusing mannerisms and cheered for your friend. 

Scott threw the ball at the assistant coach, and you laugh happily. He was getting cocky. That was fun. 

The rest of practice was a blur as Coach yanked Scott out of goal and made him run drills against Jackson. Stiles even left the bench a few times to participate. Jackson and Scott succeeded every single time. Stiles, not so much. 

It was close to 5 PM when Coach called the practice to a close. 

You stood up, stretching the uncomfortable metal bleachers off your bones. You made eye contact with Scott as he jogged to the locker room, and you smiled at him coyly. He rolled his eyes at you with a smile. 

Lydia stood up along with Alison and you couldn’t help but notice both of them were also watching Scott make his exit. 

Part of you wanted to be annoyed. Not at Allison, but at Lydia and even Stiles. Lydia only cared about Scott once she saw his ‘worth’ as a player. You thought that you understood parts of her, but this behavior made her seem even more shallow. Then there is the matter of Stiles liking her for no reason other than her looks. He’s just as shallow. You couldn’t be upset at her and then turn around and be okay with him. 

Why the hell were you thinking so hard over Lydia Martin? You usually barely even considered her, and this is three times today when you dedicated time to try and understand her. 

You shook your head to try and force your brain to stop being weird and you trotted down the metal bleachers. Enjoying how fast you could go down them if you stepped on the seats instead of the stairs. 

“See you later!” Allison called as she followed Lydia to the parking lot. Lydia gave you a glance and nodded slightly. 

What the fuck is with today and Lydia?

You sunk down on the grass and waited for Scott and Stiles to appear from the locker room. 

You ripped up grass as you waited and soon enough a shadow was standing over you. You glanced up and Scott was standing there with the biggest grin on his face. 

“What the fuck McCall!?” You shouted, standing then jumping at him. He grinned sheepishly and caught you to both of your surprise. Stiles jogged up and wasted no time getting in on the celebration. 

Scott released you and you grabbed his shoulders to shake them.  

“My best friend is a fucking legend!” You yelled laughing. Stiles ruffled Scott’s hair and brought both of you into a group hug, whooping as he did so. 

The adrenaline of watching Scott came flooding back to you as you jumped around with your best friends in the whole world. This school year was your year. Your time. Finally, something was going right.

So I was watching the first episode of Teen Wolf and I thought you know what would be fun? A rewrite. I know I’m not the first person to do this, @bilesbilinskix and @24stiles920 are the two that I’ve seen on tumblr. I looked for other rewrites after I had the idea and it would feel weird to not acknowledge the years of work they’ve done for this. So if you’re interested in reading a completed/farther along version of a rewrite go check both of them out.

This rewrite is going to be Stiles Stilinski x reader. I’m toying with the idea of making it Stiles x reader x Derek, but I haven’t decided yet. So for now it’s a slow burn that ends with just Stiles.

This fic is going to be very long. This first chapter is 8.7k words which is astonishing because compared to other episodes nothing much happens this episode and its only half. I’d also like to preface that the reader is the main character. So there are going to be many, many scenes that aren’t included in the show. It’s a rewrite with a new main character so if you’re wondering why it matters about readers' history essay that’s why. They’re the main character.

Also this rewrite is going to be rated mature and might teeter towards explicit. The show is rated PG-13, but I’m going to say teenagers aren’t usually suitable for a 13 year old audience.

Anyway, I hope you all enjoy this series and come to love it as much as I do. This is going to have the worlds slowest updates so like if you wanna check back in a year that is honestly for the best. I wrote this two years ago and I'm tired of waiting I'm just going to post it. :)

Hey Beautiful

Rating: Teen and up

Pairing: Carl Gallagher x fem!reader

Word Count: 1,388

Summary: Carl goes to buy Nick a bike and decideds this is the perfect time to make your life hell. Set in 6x04

Warnings: lots of swearing, “that’s Carl, he used to be white”, Nick being iconic as always

A/N: I’ve never written for Carl or for anything in Shameless so like go easy on me. Pls

You sat behind the counter with your head propped up on your hand. Lazily looking down on your phone and swiping through your Instagram feed.

The little bell over the door chimed and you looked up, slightly irritated that now you had to talk with someone. Probably some dad with his fucking kid, buying his “little champ” his first bike. Ever since those rich Northsiders started crawling in, business at the bike store your dad owned had been good. On the downside, if you had to suffer through a story about how amazing training wheels were going, you were going to commit homicide.

To your surprise a kid around your age swaggered into the store. Well more like trying to swagger. The short white kid with light brown hair in cornrows tried very hard. You glanced at his hair again. The highlights in the brown could be a dark blonde really. This fucker was a basically a blonde hair, blue eyed, midget and he was trying to act all tough. You rolled your eyes and looked back at your phone, already nauseous from this interaction.

“Shit if I knew this is what waited for me, I would’ve come in earlier. What’s your name, beautiful?” He said. You closed your eyes and counted to five before opening them and giving him a blank look.

“You here for anything or are you going to waste my time?” You drawled, crossing your arms and looking out the window. A very tall dark skinned man stood outside the store. Fiddling with the handles of a brown bike. His face didn’t reveal much, but his eyes were lit with excitement. You smiled softly at the sight and turned back to the kid in front of you.

He leaned against the counter and a smirk appeared on his mouth. “Oh I’m here for something, you took my heart and I want it back.”

You wanted to groan, but you stopped yourself and instead rolled your eyes. Your dad had a security camera pointed at you right now. If he saw you being rude to a customer you’d be in a world of trouble.

“Funny.” You deadpanned and rested your chin on your hand again. “That your friend outside? The bike’s $300.”

The kid, to his credit, didn’t even blink and slapped the money on the counter. Usually the prices scared off the idiots who were looking for an easy ride. You hated that you were slightly impressed. You eyed the money and raised an eyebrow to the kid.

“What just ‘cause I’m black means you're gonna refuse my money? Think all black people are criminals? Shit baby, I didn’t know you were like that.” He put a hand to his chest, acting offended. You couldn’t help yourself and let out a scoff. You reached for the money on the counter before the kid grabbed it back. You instead, put your hand on his and his stupid face moved into a wide grin.

“Yeah that’s what I like to see baby, knew you wanted me.”

“Shut the fuck up. And why are you acting so hard, you’re the whitest thing in here with that wannabe hair and those blue ass eyes.” You spat moving your hand off his like it was made of fire. To your surprise his shit eating grin only got wider. He opened his mouth to say something before the bell on the door chimed again.

His friend walked into the store. One of the bike handles clutched tightly in his hand, and a little kid holding his other. You wondered where the hell the kid came from. He looked to be about four and he smiled brightly at the idiot standing at the counter. You furrowed your eyebrows and looked between the three boys in the store.

“Ay Nick. Little homie.” The idiot in front of you called as he turned to look at the two. The two elder boys seemed to be having a silent conversation. Idiot turned back around and nodded.

“You got any really fancy locks?” He asked. He reached to his neck to fiddle with the gold chain sitting there. You were taken aback by the question and the lack of flirty attitude. Something about the earnest way he asked and the nervousness of his hands threw you off. Your eyes widened slightly as your brain tried to keep up with what was happening. It was as if this guy did a full 180. It was as if you were to admit you didn’t have any bike locks he would be crushed. And for what? He was so selfish he needed to protect his stupid bike that he made his friend lug around? And who was that kid? Why was he looking at this wannabe like he personally hung the moon in the sky?

“Uh yeah, you got a price range?” You asked finically regaining the ability to speak. You pushed back on the chair and tossed your phone on the counter. Moving swiftly to get out from behind it.

“Just give me the best you have. No one is taking Nick’s bike.”

You froze as your hand reached up to grab the Kryptonite Kryptolok from the top shelf. This was all for his friend? The kid was willing to lose $300 on a bike as well as blow $50 on a bike lock? All for his friend? He looked that concerned over the safety of a stupid bike, because his friend wanted it?

You blinked a few times and grabbed the lock. You tossed it to Nick who caught it. His expression never changed from the blank on his face, but he nodded to you. You took that to mean he was happy. You could feel the guy's eyes watching you from the counter. Never leaving your figure as you moved to grab the lock and now walking back. You cleared your throat and slid back behind the counter. Not looking him in the eyes.

You could tell how much this bike meant to Nick. Could see that this was the most important thing. You didn’t know anything about Nick, you sure as hell couldn’t drop $350 on a ride. The fact that his friend did it so easily, without any care, without any fucking hesitation made a blush start to creep up onto your cheeks.

“That’ll be $350. That all?” You said trying to recapture that hardass voice you had earlier. You looked down at the counter and fiddled with your phone that was lying there. You didn’t want to look at him. Didn’t want him to see what his actions did to you. He was glad to spend that much to make his friend happy and that made your heart stutter. He may look like an idiot in that ghetto getup, but his actions were something you couldn’t ignore. You bit the bullet finally and risked looking up at him.

He smiled this time. An actual smile. Not that stupid cocky grin or that dumbass smirk, a cute little smile. You shook your head to clear the word ‘cute’ from your mind. He slid the money he put down earlier across the counter and dropped another hundred on top.

“Keep the change beautiful.”

Him and his friend turned to go before you did the most embarrassing thing possible.

You called him back.

He froze and his black puffy jacket shifted as he turned to look back at you. That stupid smirk was back on his face and you hated that you thought it looked good on him. You took a leftover receipt off the counter, jotted your number on it, crumpled it into a ball, and tossed it at him.

“Text me sometime, tough guy.” You teased as he bent to pick up the paper ball. He laughed as he tossed it between his hands. He shoved the ball in his pocket, fiddled with his chain and smiled at you.

With a wink he pushed open the door and called back to you, “See you around beautiful.” And with that Nick, the kid, and him left your store and made their way out of sight.

It wasn’t until later when your phone buzzed in your pocket did the grin on your face finally ease up, if only a little.

Hey beautiful. The name’s Carl

Brown Eyes Unsure

Part 2 of ? of How series

Rating: Teen and Up

Pairing: Peter Maximoff x fem!reader

Word Count: 2,332

Summary: Maximoff is a stranger to this reality. What were your options, and could he be trusted?

Warnings: swearing, slight angst, over thinking by the reader

A/N: I just want to say thank you for all the support and new followers I got after the first chapter was posted. I really fucking appreciate that. This series is gonna take awhile, and I’m not the most consistent author. I’ll be the first to admit that. I am fully online this school year though so hopefully I’ll speed up my updating as finals aproach. Nothing speeds up productivity like procrastination :j

You were right. It was a very, very long day.

You pinched the bridge of your nose as Maximoff let out a belch and wiggled his shoulders back to lean against the wall. Agent Tareen’s upper lip twitched in irritation as she eyed the man child. Plates and cups were laid out on the floor around you.

You glanced to your right and smiled softly to see Agent Iyer starting to nod off. He was sitting awkwardly on a knocked over punching bag, his back slouched completely to keep him from falling over.

Iyer wanted a place away from prying eyes as well as enough room to sit and talk. Unfortunately the conference room was now occupied. So that led to where you four were now. An abandoned training room complete with an obstacle course and gym equipment. While you and your team had sat in a circle on the floor, laptops out, discussing possible places for Maximoff to reside; the man in question seemed to take a kick out of running around the obstacle course and making little games for himself.

The few times you had glanced up, he was standing atop a metal rotating tower and seeing how fast he could climb up and down it, while also programming the tower to shoot foam bullets at him.

You caught yourself smiling as he was hit once and he acted out a Shakespearen death scene with full dramatics.

After a couple of hours you had offered to get food for everyone, something that Agent Tareen jumped at the sound of. She always packed her own food, but she loved the Avengers Compound’s kitchen. Her aunt was a chef and she found the sounds of a bustling kitchen comforting. Well that’s what Iyer told you anyway.

Tareen looked far from the smiley face she usually adorned when going to the kitchen. Instead a scowl was present on her face as you both left the training room.

“He’s a real piece of work.” She said crossing her arms as you two strolled, which you both hoped was casually, down the corridor to the elevator. You tilted your head and nodded slowly.

“I guess. I don’t know, it seems to me he uses humor as a defense mechanism. And being essentially held hostage by a random government agency with three agents around him, dictating his life for the foreseeable future. I would also feel the need to protect myself.” You said lowly, not wanting anyone passing by to hear. Tareen hummed at that and the pair of you fell silent.

It really was kind of amazing that Maximoff trusted your team at all. He had nothing to go on really. You bit your lip as you came to a stop in front of an elevator. Agent Tareen turned to you, making you pause.

“Do you think we can trust him?” She asked, bringing an olive hand up to press the ‘up’ button.

Now that was a question. And one you honestly should have thought over earlier. If you looked at it objectively, there was a strange man with incredible powers, who also had the same name and said power of a superhero that was killed. Also the strange man appeared in a forest and has no idea how he got to this reality. The only thing you could trust was that he was from another reality. According to the lab data, his cells were just slightly off, plus how he talked and acted was very 90’s. But you couldn’t look at it objectively. That would mean that you had to ignore that face he made when you told him the point of this all, was sending him home. It was such intense relief, and then you remembered the way he sat next to you, sitting in a ball next to a stranger and agreeing to trust you and your team.

You weren’t an idiot. You were the founder of a very important sector of S.H.I.E.L.D., and you spent your entire career protecting people who gave you their blind trust. Blindly trusting someone...

Images of machinery and thundering water came to your mind and you shook it off.

That time it was different. You were a child. You were taken advantage of.

You weren’t a kid anymore, you were the one in charge. You could trust Maximoff, because he trusted you.

The elevator dinged open and you were thankful no one was inside. You stepped in, turned around, and crossed your arms, facing Tareen who’s expression was taut, awaiting your answer.

“Yes. We trust him. And if you don’t trust him, then trust me. He’s not a threat.” Your voice was hard and Tareen met your fierce gaze with one of her own. You stared at each other before she broke eye contact by stepping into the elevator.

“I trust you.” Was all she said and she pressed the button to the fourth floor. That was that then. Maximoff had her support.

That’s what led you to now, surrounded by the dishes of your dinner, strained necks, and tired eyes. You glanced to your right again and Iyer had his eyes shut, long legs planted solidly to keep him from doubling forward. His warm deep skin looked shiny from the offensive bright lights as he dozed. You took a mental note to make sure the team had a late start tomorrow.

In front of you, Tareen had her face creased in concentration as she read over something on her laptop. It was placed in front of her on the floor, and she was sitting with her legs criss crossed, left elbow digging into her knee as she propped her head up with her hand.

You glanced around for Maximoff, only to see him lying on his back, mouth open, dead asleep in the foam pit. You let out a breath of a laugh before your smile fell and you sighed. It must have been around six in the morning. So far, all you and your team had done was place Maximoff in New England.

It had been the obvious choice, seeing as, as soon as the technology was available to send Maximoff home, he was going. The only people with clearance to make such technology were S.H.I.E.L.D. and Mr. Stark. New York was out because that was a little too close to home. Iyer was voting for New Jersey while Tareen wanted Maine. You were still undecided.

You slowly lowered yourself to lying on your back, staring at the ceiling. The fluorescent white lights hummed with electricity and you closed your eyes against them. Your arms were spread out wide and you were thankful for the fact you were in the training room. The cold of the floor embraced you more than a scratchy carpet of a conference room.

You let out a huff as you tried to relive some of the stress knotting in your shoulders. Agent Iyer always made lists when he was stressed; something about seeing everything laid out neatly calmed him. It's never worked for you before, but it was worth a shot.

There were five possible threats concerning Peter Maximoff. You bit your lip and started at the least terrible, moving to the worse. One, S.H.I.E.L.D. is being controlled by Hydra, finds out about him, experiments on him, and either infiltrates a new reality or uses him as a weapon. Two, Maximoff is secretly evil and came to this reality to kill everyone for some evil agenda that he relivels in a monologue. Preferably with sunglasses on and an evil laugh. You think he’d like that.

You smirked, eyes still shut and focused on your task with a shake of your head.

Three, Mr. Stark is actually lying to your team and he wants to be the only person aware of Maximoff so he can conduct experiments on him in the name of discovery. Four, other agencies like S.W.O.R.D. find out about Maximoff, expose him to the public, then the U.S. Government and all its intelligence agencies have a pissing contest to see who can “have” Maximoff for their own twisted agenda. Five, Wanda Maximoff hears about Peter Maximoff, hunts you, Agent Tareen, and Agent Iyer down, and personally rips your organs from your bodies.

You involuntarily shuddered and bolted to sit up. Wanda Maximoff was the most powerful Avenger hands down. You did not want to be on the receiving end of her wrath and grief.

Tareen kicked your foot as you sat awkwardly in front of her.

“We should call it soon. I’m gonna pray, make sure Iyer doesn’t even think about touching my laptop.” She said eying the man to you right. You glanced over, assessing his hunched over form: still sleeping. You raised an eyebrow at her suspicion and shrugged. Iyer did have a tendency to use whatever was available when he had an idea. No one knew when exactly inspiration would strike him. You watched her head out the door closest to the bathroom, before slowly turning to look at Maximoff.

You had to wake him to tell him your team was heading home. You sighed at the task and grumbled curses at Tareen and Iyer for being busy and asleep. Maximoff was preferable when he was unconscious, but someone had to take one for the team and wake him up. Guess that person was you then.

Pushing up from the ground, you walked over to him, trying to seem less dead and more authoritative. After all, you were technically in charge of him.

You trudged up the blue ramp to the foam pit, and peered down at Maximoff. He twitched slightly in his sleep. He was clutching his jacket close to his chest, and you smiled softly at him. He looked much younger when he was asleep, his teenage personality seemed to fit better here. Who was he?

You squinted your eyes as an idea came over you. You suppressed a smirk as you inched closer to the edge of the foam pit. You reached down slowly and grabbed a foam cube with your hand. You let out a breath of air as you aimed it and with no further thought, you pelted his stomach with the cube.

He jumped and tackled you to the ground, Maximoff pinning you down with a fearful expression on his face. You gasped as his long blonde and silver hair created a curtain over his face. His brown eyes were wide and his pupils were blown. He painted quietly and you felt the warm breath on your own mouth. You both stared at each other in shock for a beat before he clambered off of you.

“Oh shit, sorry I-,” he fumbled over his words as he scurried away from you, almost falling into the foam pit again. He crawled backwards, still sitting and you slowly sat up. You blinked and stared at him. He didn’t use his powers on you and he didn’t even realise. His fearful expression echoed in your mind as he continued to stutter out an apology.

What had happened to Maximoff in his reality? Why was his first instinct to fight? He could just escape in the blink of an eye. But he didn’t. He didn’t expose his powers, instead he attacked.

You felt a pang of sympathy and untensed your shoulders. And for the first time in your life, you wanted to show someone. To show that you could at least understand. You didn’t know what his reality was like. You didn’t know how he got those powers or how old he was. But you fucking knew what that was like.

You felt the back of your throat burn and your nose twitched. You didn’t expect to choke down a sob. You thought you were past all this and here this man comes and makes you feel as if you're cowering against your desk. Staring at a cup of water in fear.

Maximoff watched you, his hands raised as he kept talking. Just a non ending stream of excuses.

You surprised the both of you when you put your palm out and stood up. Maximoff watched you, still on the floor. His hair was still covering his face, and slowly put his hand in yours.

You gripped his hand tightly and heaved him up. You stared at each other, your hands clasped, your bodies so close.

How? How did you get here? How did you get these powers? How were you so okay? Your thoughts, directed at him, screamed as you stared.

You forced yourself to still and you took a deep breath through your nose and raised your eyebrows with intent. Maximoff broke eye contact, brown eyes unsure. You breathed again and he copied you this time. Deep breathes filled the sound around you two.

“We’re going to go home soon. I can show you where you’ll sleep?” You offered and gently pulled your hand away. That seemed to shake Maximoff out of his daze and a goofy grin came over his face.

He gave a fast karate chop which startled you. “I am so tired. Let’s go Boss.” He cheered and appeared next to Iyer happily.

Your heart ached as you watched him poke the sleeping man. Maximoff didn’t trust anyone here, he didn’t know this place, didn’t know you people, and he was terrified. You felt your hands twitch and your eyes widened in horror as the water bottle by Iyer’s leg toppled over. You hastily shoved your hands deep into your pockets. You watched Maximoff jump happily as he antagonized Iyer, blue haze filling the space as he ran around. His powers on beautiful display, despite his feelings. You looked at him and then back at the water bottle.

You let out a puff of air as you ever so slowly, brought your hands out of your pockets.

Taglist: @daem-o-nium @infinitytitans @loveyou3000-mcu @haileyybird @amourtentiaa

That’s me

bert and ernie go to ikea

Reblog to make him lose another 200 billion, like to make him lose 1 billion

MASTERLIST

All my shit is also on archive of our own if you vibe with that better

CARL GALLAGHER:

Hey Beautiful: in which Carl goes to buy Nick a bike and decideds this is the perfect time to make your life hell.

LIP GALLAGHER:

Whatever the Outcome (Complete):

1. Not Alone: in which Lip needs your help to convince Amanda to speak to the board regarding the picture she leaked of Helene, and you’re coming for blood.

2. Breaking the Glass: in which the hearing of Lip Gallagher and Professor Helene Runyon is today. You watch it all unfold, it seems, with your hands clasped tightly over your eyes.

HARRY STYLES:

A Drunk Video: in which you and Harry get absolutely wasted and make a decision to make a YouTube video. It was probably a bad decision.

PETER MAXIMOFF

How (On Hold):

1. Something Had Happened: in which you occupy a position in S.H.I.E.L.D. As the person in charge of hiding and rehubilitating superheroes, you never expected to be tasked with hiding someone from another reality.

2. Brown Eyes Unsure: in which Maximoff is a stranger to this reality. What were your options, and could he be trusted?

STILES STILINKSKI

The Poly Teen Wolf Rewrite No One Asked For or PTWRNOAF for short (please don’t call it that) PTWR? Idk just say Poly Teen Wolf and I’ll get it. ):

1. Bodies, Bites, and Bitches: in which you and your best friends prepare for sophomore year only for corpses, animal bites, new abilities, and a chilling red head keep your gang from having a normal first day.