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awkward-halfhug · 8 months ago

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saving grace | warren peace x reader

summary: you have some bullying problems. Warren helps out

contents: Ron Wilson Bus Driver's daughter!reader x warren peace (because my sister said she wanted to see Ron Wilson mentioned and I said I can do u one better), cw bullying, chocolates, birdsong

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Bang. Bang bang. Your fists are softer than they should be against the thin metal. The knocking half hearted at this point.

This is the second month into the school year, and you've found yourelf in this exact scenario nearly every day. It's always right as you're heading to lunch. No matter where you happen to be, you're grabbed in broad daylight, hauled to your locker, and trapped there by one means or another, until you can figure your way out.

It's not the same people every time. They seem to rotate out. You think maybe they're on a schedule. Wonder if they coordinate with eachother and see what day is good for each of them. The idea makes you smile a bit, though it really shouldn't. Organized crime.

You don't always see who it is, but even if you do, it doesn't matter. Sky high doesn't have the best track record with this kind of thing. So, you mainly keep your predicament to yourself. Your teachers have enough to worry about, molding young superminds and all that. And your dad...you just really don't want your dad to worry.

It's not all bad though! Sometimes the cafeteria gets a bit too loud for you anyways. It can get pretty rowdy, especially when the students use their powers to show off to eachother (even though they're not supposed to outside of gym). So, really, a nice enclosed space isn't the worst place you could be, all things considered.

You sigh. It would be better if you had tater tots, though.

You hear footsteps down the hallway and perk up. Start banging your fist against your locker door in earnest.

"Excuse me? Hello?" You wait a moment and frown when there's no response. Try again.

"Would you mind opening my locker please? I'm inside of it!" Because that wasn't clear, surely.

"Whats the combination?" You hear, muffled. You grin in relief.

"It's 123"

Silence.

"Your locker combination is 123?" The voice is incredulous, maybe a little bit judgy.

"They find a way in anyway, it's easier for the janitor if I keep it simple so he can remember." You defend to the stranger through the metal.

You hear a sigh, and then the clicking of your lock, and then finally, the door opens.

The sight that greets you is not the last thing you expect to see, as it's not one of your bullies. But it's pretty close. Warren Peace is standing in front of you. The perpetually glaring, incredibly intimidating Warren Peace is your savior. Who would've thought?

You almost forget to climb out of your locker except he starts to look at you like you're stupid, and that's usually your cue to jump into action.

"Hi!" You say and he flinches. Too loud, woops.

Warren puts his hands in his pockets and turns to leave, this interaction apparently over for him.

You close your locker and hurry to catch up to him. "Thank you so much. I was getting hungry."

Warren nods. "Yeah, well..." He scratches the back of his neck.

It takes you a minute to realize you're headed outside.

"Did you already eat?" You ask.

"Lunch is almost over, so yeah."

You frown. There's probably not enough time for you to go get something and eat before fifth period. You brighten when you remember the chocolate your dad keeps in his mini lunch cooler. And you happen to be heading out that way.

"Do you like chocolate?"

"Why are you following me?" Warren looks put-out, but not for much longer, you decide.

"I'm thanking you."

"You already thanked me." He sighs.

"You didn't answer me. Do you like chocolate?" You persist. It's an important question, after all.

Warren pinches his lips together, looks like he's internally debating answering, and then reluctantly says "Yes." Before picking his pace up a bit so he's walking ahead of you out the school doors into the courtyard.

You speed up to match him, almost. "Good! Awesome. Follow me." You smile into his confused face and lock your arm around his before pulling him toward the school bus. He could get out of your hold easily, you're sure, but he doesn't, so he must be at least a little curious where you're going.

Your dad is on the other side of the bus when you arrive. You can see him practicing what might be karate moves under the shade of a big tree.

Warren looks less curious and more wary now as you tug his arm forward.

"What are you–?"

"Hey dad!"

You feel Warren startle beside you at the same time as you watch your dad startle in front of you. You watch him fall onto his butt after a particularly enthusiastic kick.

"Oww" your dad moans, and you grimace.

"Sorry."

He waves you off as he stands, giving you a smile through the pain. "It's okay, kiddo." You watch his eyes widen when he notices Warren beside you and he straightens his posture.

"Oh! Hi there, I'm Ron Wilson, bus driver", your dad whips out a business card and hands it to a bemused Warren. "And this little ray of sunshine's dad."

Your dad smiles at you proudly and you smile back. His eyes then flicker down to where your arm is locked around Warren's and a a weird expression crosses his face.

You flush and drops Warren's arm. Warren rolls his shoulders back like he'd been held captive against his will, which is just silly, and could finally stretch his muscles.

Warren glares at you a little as he makes eye contact with you before nodding at your dad. "Warren."

"You guys new friends?" Your dad asks, less excited than he usually is to meet new people. His eyes were still staring at where your arm was around Warren's.

Are you friends now? You're not sure. You don't remember the last time you made a friend, but a friendly gesture seems like the start of a friendship, right? That's how it was in kindergarten, you think.

"Warren helped me out with something at school today" you feel Warren give you a look and ignore it, "and I wanted to give him some chocolate to thank him. Do you have more in your lunch? I'll pay you back."

Your dad's features seem to clear up a little. He looks at Warren's eyes instead of his arm. "Oh, well that was nice of you! Sure, sure. What do you like, Hershey? Nestlé?" He goes to his cooler in the bus and starts rummaging around to find the goods.

You look up at Warren with an excited smile, and you watch as his glare loses heat almost reluctantly.

He rolls his eyes and leans toward you slightly. Murmurs as your dad is still in the bus. "I had stuff to do, y'know. Why am I out here meeting your dad?"

You frown. "It's not a proper thank you without sugar." You tell him. You want to add duh but think that'd probably be rude.

He snorts. "Ah. Well then, of course. Proceed." He says it sarcastically, but he's still standing there so you know he wants the chocolate just as much as any sane person would.

Your dad backs out of the bus with his arms full of mini chocolates. Smiling, he gestures Warren closer with his head.

"Well, don't be shy!" Your dad jostles his armfull until Warren slowly walks over and takes some chocolate, looking pained. The effect is lost though, when he takes his time sorting through the chocolates until he finds one he wants.

Warren starts to back away but when your dad says "take two!" Warren doesn't hesitate.

"Uh, thanks. Sir." The words are clumsy in Warren's mouth and it makes you smile.

"Thank you dad!" You say as you take two for yourself. "See you later." You give him a kiss on the cheek and lead Warren back to the school where fifth period is probably starting.

You walk in silence through the doors and hide your chocolates in sync when you see Mr. Boy in the hallway.

The bell rings and when you turn to say goodbye to Warren, he's already gone.

———

It's a week later before you really see eachother again. You have gym together but nothing else, what with your ability to perfectly imitate birdcalls deeming you hero support, and him being a hero and all. Your hero, you giggle to yourself.

Distracted, you don't see the boys until it's too late. Two sets of arms are around you from the sides before you know it, hauling you up and, predictably, to your locker.

You think maybe by this point you should just resign yourself to the routine completely, but you can't help yourself from struggling against the hold. No one helps you as you look from face to face of your peers. Some look on with pity, some pretend not to see, and others don't care. A couple even laugh.

You feel stupid tears prickle at the backs of your eyes in frustration and struggle a little harder. Your attackers gasp and you think you've done something right, but when you twist around, you see the source of the change isn't you, it's Warren. He's got a hand on each of the boys' shoulders, and as you watch, smoke rises from his hands. He squeezes, and the boys' faces screw up and their bodies try to cringe away from him.

They drop you. You're too amazed to worry about your stinging tailbone. Although, no, actually that does sting really bad.

Warren's expression is barely any different than his usual one. Which is to say, it's intimidating. But now his brows are furrowed in disgust as he glares at them.

The kids manage to wrestle out of his hold and run off before he can grab either of them again. Warren turns back to you. He sighs heavily.

"So. That keep happening?" He asks, with an almost uninterested tone. Almost.

You nod. He nods back, thinking, as he looks around them. Glares at the people who make eye contact.

He takes a deep breath. "Well, are you hungry or are you just going to sit there all day?"

"Oh!" You must look silly sitting on the floor like that. Probably an improvement to how you look being shoved into your locker, though. You wipe the tears from your cheeks discreetly and start to get up, when Warren grabs your arm and gently pulls you up.

He still looks bored when you're up and closer to eye level with him. But he can't fake nonchalance when he just stepped in to help you.

Your earlier thoughts come to mind. Your hero indeed. You're staring at him in awe when he clears his throat.

You're still both standing in the hall as bystanders walk past, uncaring, into the cafeteria.

"Sorry, yeah. Thank you. Again. Thank you so much." You smile your most grateful smile at him and he actually starts to look uncomfortable.

"I meant, are you going to lunch? They're gone." Warren stays standing in the hallway, waiting for your answer.

You can, now, you realize. You can actually go to lunch, and eat food, and not have your stomach complain at you the rest of the schoolday. You almost can't believe it.

"That would be nice." You say, in awe once again.

"'Kay. Go in then." Warren lifts his eyebrows and gestures for you to enter the cafeteria. You walk to the line and Warren follows behind.

After loading up your tray, you stand a few feet out of the line and stare out at the tables of kids eating and talking and laughing together. You don't know where to go now. There's only one empty table, and you watch Warren walk past you and sit down at it.

You look around for another few seconds before making a decision.

Warren looks up mid-bite as you put your tray down at his table. Place the pudding cup from your tray onto his. You look at him in silent question. He just stares at you for a moment, before returning to his food. He pulls the pudding a little closer to him. You take that as permission and settle down to eat.

Lunch is a quiet affair, but peaceful, and you find yourself smiling into your broccoli.

———

At first you think it might be a coincidence, when you start running into Warren right after the lunch bell rings. It could be a coincidence still, you think. But it's a coincidence that's happened every single day since he chased off those kids harassing you.

It could be a coincidence, but he sure does look like he's waiting for you, as he stands leaned against the hallway directly outside your classroom, and straightens up when you exit.

It could be a coincidence, you admit. Maybe. But you hope it isn't.

Each day you walk side by side to the cafeteria, as if you'd agreed to it. As if this was something you'd always done. You didn't, and you hadn't. You love it.

He's quiet, and brooding, and intimidating and lovely. These days you can't tamp down the fluttering in your stomach in fourth period as you anticipate the bell. A different sort of anticipation than you're used to. A good kind.

You try to dial down the smile as he looks over at you.

"What?" Warren frowns suspiciously.

"Nothing! Nothing. Just happy." You fold your hands together in front of you and hum as you head toward the food.

Warren lets you step in front of him in line and you each load up your trays before heading to a table.

Your table. Both or yours. You sigh happily.

It's technically, perhaps, just Warren's table. But since you sat with him that first time, you've continued every day since, and he hasn't shoo'd you off yet! It feels like a definite win.

"Hey Warren..."

Warren grunts in acknowledgement, shoving a fry in his mouth.

"Would you call us friends?"

He pauses in his fry-eating. Looks at you. Looks back down. Steals your jello.

"I mean. If that's what you wanna be."

You frown. Not as enthusiastic of a reply as would be optimal, but this is Warren you're talking to.

"Do you not want to be friends?" You can't help but ask. The evidence makes it seem ridiculous but you have to know.

He steals your plastic spoon and opens his pilferred jello. Speaks quietly. "If you want to be friends, we're friends, okay?"

It sounds like an admission to you.

"Are you sure you don't just like me for my food?"

Warren cracks a tiny smile, obviously relieved. "Who says I like you?"

"Little birdie" you grin coyly.

"Oh, and which bird would that be?"

You imitate a Blue Jay and Warren laughs.

thank you for reading! If you enjoyed, please consider reblogging/commenting, it means a lot ♡ and if you have requests or ideas, feel free to let me know in my ask box

#warren peace x reader #warren peace fanfiction #sky high #sky high fanfiction #warren peace x you #warren peace x y/n #sky high imagine #warren peace imagine

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