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#well the girls were but then i realized oh shit their parents are superheros too huh
sojutrait · 1 year
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a very superhero themed spooky day
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mischiefandspirits · 3 years
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Bernard Figures It Out
Was reading through all the comments on @frostbittenbucky's post and all I could think of was that it was Bernard talking to Tim. Then I got to thinking...
"I've connected the two dots."
"You didn't connect shit."
"I've connected them."
Bernard figures out Tim's a superhero... sort of.
~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~
Tim fidgetted nervously as he waited on the front porch of his boyfriend’s house. Bernard had sounded so serious when he’d called during Tim’s lunch to ask him to come over after work so they could talk about something.
Which Tim had done, after spending an entire board meeting just going over the past week trying to figure out what he’d done.
The only thing he could think of was that he’d ducked out halfway through their lunch date on Wednesday to give Duke some backup, but Bernard had seemed understanding when Tim explained there was an emergency at GRC Labs. It couldn’t have been a tipping point, either, since Tim had managed to only flake on three other dates over the past few months they’d been dating. Kate had been happy to cover for him as often as she could “out of queer solidarity” when she found out Tim was dating a boy for the first time and Tim had managed to trick Bruce into covering a few actual Wayne Enterprises emergencies for him when they came up.
There had to be a reason Bernard was breaking up with him, though. Had he missed something? He definitely wasn’t forgetting an important day. He was good with days and Tam was even better, so she would have reminded him on the off chance that he had forgotten.
What was he missing?
Bernard was smiling when he opened the door, but there was a nervous energy to it that had Tim’s stomach sinking. “Hey, Tim.”
“Hey.” Tim gave his own nervous smile then slipped inside.
They went into the living room and sat down on the couch.
Tim frowned when Bernard grabbed a manila folder off the coffee table. Crud, had he screwed up enough that Bernard had had to make a list? He knew he was new to dating a guy, but he hadn’t thought he’d done that bad. He’d really been trying, especially with how his and Stephanie’s relationship had fallen apart at the end. “What -”
“Just let me speak, Tim,” Bernard said, waiting for Tim’s nod. “Okay, so you know Clark Kent, right?”
Tim blinked as Bernard opened the folder to show a picture of Clark. It looked like one of the employee pictures from the Planet’s website, with his dorky “I’m just a humble country boy” smile and the golden globe from their roof photoshopped in as the background. “Uh, yeah? I think so. He works for the Daily Planet, right? I think he’s worked at a few of Bruce’s events. Not a lot of outside reporters are willing to come to Gotham.”
“Exactly!” Bernard said, snapping his fingers and pointing at Tim.
“What?”
He pulled out the picture to show the next page was an article titled, “DAILY PLANET REPORTER… BATMAN!?”
A wave of relief washed over Tim and he placed his face in his hands. “Were you up all night on the hero conspiracy boards again?”
“No. I mean, I found this on a board and was up all night thinking about it, but I found it reasonably early.”
“One in the morning isn’t reasonable, Bernard.”
“Says the guy who’s always wide awake when I call to infodump.”
“Touché.” Tim leaned against Bernard and gave him a smile. “So tell me, why is some reporter from Metropolis from all places Batman.”
“First of all, living in Metropolis is the perfect cover. Everyone assumes Batman would live in Gotham, no one would consider he could be from anywhere else. Metropolis is outside the GMA, but close enough that the commute is still possible.”
“But it’s Metropolis.”
“And who would think Gotham’s Dark Knight lives in the sunshine capital? Plus, I hear he disappears a lot on the job. There’s gotta be a reason for it!”
Tim made a note to let Clark know he needs to cut back on the disappearing act some since people are catching on.
“And have you seen the guy? He is swol AF, babe.”
“Please don’t call me babe while you’re talking about how hot another guy is.” Especially Tim’s honorary uncle.
“You know I prefer twinks.”
“BERNARD!”
“I’m just saying,” he continued, ignoring Tim’s shout. “The guy is definitely hiding something! Besides, Kent is an investigative reporter. He’s gotta know a lot about cases and the underground and detective work.”
Not as much as he likes people to think, but more than he likes people to know Superman does, Tim mused. “But what about the other vigilantes?”
“Well, Kent has a cousin…” Bernard flipped through a folder and pulled out a picture of Kara. It looked like a screenshot of her interviewing Lena for CatCo. “She’s obviously the latest Batgirl. Look at her hair. And the first Batgirl and the current Batwoman were obviously Lois Lane, the red hair is just a wig. Did you see how she kicked butt at that last event she went to? She’s not as subtle as Kent. That means their son is the latest Robin. He’s exactly the right size.”
Oh, Damian better not hear about this, Tim cackled internally. His youngest brother hated being reminded that Jon was the same height as him despite their two years age difference. Damian definitely took after Talia when it came to body type, no matter what he said.
“And Kent also has a brother.” This time he pulled out a picture of Kon. The clone must have been caught by a reporter out shopping with Ma since he was carrying some paper bags and glaring at whoever was behind the camera. “At least, he’s supposedly Kent’s brother, but he was a teenager when he first showed up with the Kents. A lot of people think he’s actually Kent’s son, that Kent got a girl pregnant when they were teenagers and something happened to the mom so Kent had to take him in. Now the Kents are trying to hide it by saying the two are brothers.”
That was… scarily accurate actually. Especially given Luthor and Clark were close friends at the time that Kon would have theoretically been born.
“And that beef would explain why the younger Kent brother went all crime lord on Gotham for a while before reconnecting with the family.”
“Wait, what?”
“Yeah, Kent Jr.’s got the perfect build for Red Hood.”
Tim bit back a comment on how Kon was shorter than Jason by a good foot. Timothy Drake-Wayne should not know that. Add Jason to the list of people who can’t hear this theory.
“And then there’s this girl,” Bernard picked up a picture of Lois, Jon, and Natasha Irons walking down the street together. “No one’s sure exactly who she is, but she’s been spotted with the Kents a few times. I think the cover story is that she’s Jon’s babysitter.”
“And the actual story?”
“She’s Black Bat, obviously. That’s why she wears a mask that fully covers her face. She doesn’t want to stand out as the only African American Bat.”
“Isn’t Signal also Black?”
“Yeah, but he works in the daytime so he’s already a standout.”
“And who is Signal in this? And what about Nightwing and Red Robin?”
“Well, Nightwing’s just a Blüd who came to Gotham. He doesn’t count.”
Ouch. Sorry, Dick.
“And Red Robin is obviously an older Robin, the one who was Robin when we were kids. Kent wanted to keep him on, and I don’t blame him. As for Signal, he’s got the same backstory as all the other Robins Kent picked up, he just went the Signal route because he didn’t fit the usual Robin mold.”
“Because the female Robin fit the mold,” Tim snorted. Robin Mold, as if he and his brothers were even the same ethnicity. Or even had the same hair color. Jason dyes his hair, Dick’s is brown-black, Tim’s is pure black, and Damian’s is more a dark brown and it’s only getting lighter as he gets older.
“She didn’t, that’s the point. Kent tried to give breaking the Robin mold a chance by letting his cousin have a go at it, but he realized it just didn’t work so she went back to being Spoiler and he got a new Robin.”
Not touching that with a ten-foot pole. “Right, and where does he get the usual Robins? Please tell me you’re not back on the secret government orphanages theory.”
“No, no, no. Kent travels sometimes for his job, right? And a lot of the time he’s going to places that have been hit by disasters or major crimes. So he’ll take in some of the displaced children to train as his robins.”
Tim pressed his face back into his hands.
“You see it, right?”
Honestly, Tim was just wondering how his boyfriend could be so close, and yet so far off. “How would Kent even afford taking care of a bunch of secret -- possibly illegally acquired -- children without anyone noticing?”
“Simple. Bruce Wayne is funding him.”
“Bernard, I love you, but what the heck?” Tim blushed and looked up as he realized what he’d said, but Bernard didn’t seem to notice as he steamrolled ahead.
“It’d also explain how he can afford all the gear and how he’d be able to travel to Gotham or anywhere else Batman goes without anyone noticing. He probably has a secret Batplane or something.”
“Why would Bruce do that?”
“Because Wayne cares about Gotham, everyone knows that, and this way he can make sure someone’s taking care of the city without anyone putting two and two together.”
“And two plus two is?”
Bernard gave him a hard look. “I’m not stupid, Tim. Bruce Wayne is obviously Superman. His face is right there.”
Oh, the others are going to love this! Too bad I can’t tell Damian or Jason. Jason especially would have loved this. “Right. Bruce is Superman.”
“He is. Superman is known for being nice and Bruce Wayne’s basically all that’s keeping the city running at this point. That’s nice as hell.”
Oh my god.
“And Wayne does charity for the victims of cataclysms, doesn't he? I bet he first saves people from them as Superman and then builds them new homes for free.”
Oh my god! Why am I not recording this!?
“And the Wayne’s were rich enough to hide the fact they adopted an alien baby.”
Tim raised an eyebrow. “If you’re about to tell me this is why Bruce’s parents got killed, you might want to stop while you’re ahead.”
“It’d make sense. There’re all sorts of unanswered questions about their deaths,” Bernard muttered under his breath, flipping through the folder. He pulled out another picture of Kara. This time she was in full Supergirl attire with a bus held overhead. “So if Wayne is Superman, then that’d mean your ex-girlfriend could be Supergirl. They look a lot alike and it’d explain how she got involved with you all.”
“Bernard, she has a human dad. You know, Cluemaster. The supervillain.”
“Yeah, her dad. But we don’t know anything about her mom!”
“Let me guess…”
Bernard pulled out a picture of Karen. She and Helena were suited up and talking to a group of cops, two goons held over each of Karen’s shoulders. “Her mom could be Power Girl! Some makeup and a wig and she could look just like Crystal Brown! And Damian Wayne is obviously the new Superboy! That’s why his background is such a mystery, right? He had to stay a secret until he could control his alien superpowers. That’s why he’s always so mean. It’s a cover since everyone knows Superboy is super sweet!”
Sure, when he’s not helping Damian pull pranks or using his adorable powers to put the blame on Kon and I. “No, Bernard. Damian and Steph are just very human hellspawn. And Bruce and Crystal are human too. I can’t believe you called me over here just to tell me you think Superman is both Batman’s sugar daddy and my adoptive dad.”
“Well, that’s not exactly why I called you over,” Bernard admitted, the nervous energy coming back. He grabbed Tim’s hands. “Tim -”
Tim’s stomach sank. “You are breaking up with me!”
“What? No! I don’t want to break up!”
“Why are you acting all nervous and serious then!?” Tim asked, pulling his hands away to throw them up in the air.
Bernard shook the folder. “Because I’m trying to tell you I figured out you’re Superboy!”
Tim’s brain blue-screened and his hands slowly dropped. “I’m sorry, what?”
“I know you’re Superboy. The older one, obviously. By the way, you and Damian really need to figure out separate names.”
Forget Jason and Damian, Kon can never find out about this. He’d never let me live it down. “Bernard, you called me a twink five minutes ago. Su-” Shoot, I can not risk getting Kon’s attention! “The older one might not be as big as Superman, but he’s not a twink.”
“Well, yeah, that’s the shapeshifting at work.”
“The what?”
“Obviously you Kryptonians can shapeshift. Why else would you look so much like humans?”
… Why do Kryptonians look so much like humans? Was there some - Wait, no! Break into the Fortress of Solitude for research later! Reassure your boyfriend that you’re not an alien now! “Bernard -”
“And that explains why your step-mom was so hot.”
“Gross.”
“She and your dad were actors hired by Luthor so you could have a normal life! But now Bruce has custody so he adopted you.”
“No.”
“That’s why you and your dad were so weird with each other when I met him.”
“We were weird because he’d just gotten out of a coma not long before to find that his wife was dead so he decided to actually be a dad for once in his life, but overcompensated and became a helicopter parent to a kid who was mostly on his own for his entire life!” Tim blurted out. “I am not an alien, Bernard!”
“Well, not technically since you were cloned from Superman on Earth.”
“Oh my god! You were just talking about Steph being Supergirl! Why would I date my dad’s cousin?”
Bernard blinked. “Supergirl and Superman are cousins?”
Right, Timothy Drake-Wayne wasn’t supposed to know that. “I thought they’d said something like that before, yeah. Are people seriously saying I’m Superboy on the internet?”
“NO! No, I swear I would have led with that if I thought your identity was compromised. A few people have mentioned Wayne and Damian, but not you or Steph or Jason.”
“Wh-Jason!? You think Jason was an alien too!”
“No, not exactly, but a few times when I’ve visited I swear I’ve seen a guy in the manor who looks like Jason. It’s just been out of the corner of my eye and he’s gone whenever I look so I’ve always thought it was just Dick or Bruce or some picture of Jason that my mind was playing tricks with, but it makes sense now that I know Wayne is Superman. He must have been able to heal Jason with alien tech, but couldn’t say anything because that would give away that he’s Superman.”
Damn it Jason! And damn it Bernard! I’m dating the smartest moron in the world! “Bruce did not bring Jason back with alien technology and none of us are aliens!”
“It’s okay, Tim. I won’t tell anyone.”
Tim grabbed Bernard by the jacket and pulled him into a kiss. When he started to feel lightheaded, he pulled back, “Could someone whose skin is as solid as stone kiss like that?”
Bernard blinked dazedly at him for a moment. “How do you know what Superboy’s skin feels like?”
Tim screamed internally. “He’s saved me from a kidnapping before.”
“Really?”
“Yes. I can get you the police report if you want.”
“Huh… And the others?”
“Not Supers. I can stab Damian the next time we’re at the manor if that’ll prove none of us are aliens.” He’d rather stab Jason, but that would probably only confirm to Bernard that Bruce used alien technology to bring him back.
“You probably shouldn’t stab your brother if he isn’t an alien.”
Tim rolled his eyes. “I won’t stab him anywhere deadly.”
“That’s not the point,” Bernard said slowly.
“He’ll be fine.”
“If you say so.”
“So do you believe I’m not an alien now?” Tim huffed, letting go of Bernard’s jacket.
The blond’s eyes dipped down to Tim’s lips. “If I say no, will you kiss me like that again?”
“You’re ridiculous,” Tim said, but he kissed him anyway.
~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~
“Okay, but I still say Clark Kent is definitely Batman.”
“Sure, Bernard.”
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babymetaldoll · 3 years
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"Victory" (Spencer Reid/ Reader)
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Requested: Yes
Summary: Spencer's daughter hates her father's girlfriend. But when he is in prison, life pushes them to finally get along.
Warning: Cursing, a little angst, a mean teenager, and fluff.
Word count: 5,4K
A/N: Hello, pretty people! How are you? I've missed you! Life has been a little messy and filled with angst, so writing hasn't come easy in the lastest weeks. Hope you like this story, and I hope I can bring you a new one soon 😉
Masterlist
»»————-  ————-««
Spencer's daughter hated her dad's new girlfriend. And she wasn't subtle about it. She hated that her father was now dating, 'cos she didn't want to share his love. So now she didn't even want to be around him anymore 'cos he was so happy, it was annoying.
It wasn't that she hated her father, 'cos she loved him. But she was never going to face the fact she was jealous. She didn't want to share Spencer with anyone because he was all the family she knew, and they were a team.
Victoria Reid was twelve years old. She had grown up alone with her dad 'cos her mother had ditched the two of them soon after she was born. Spencer had tried to explain to his daughter her mom had left 'cos she wasn't ready to deal with the responsibility of being a mother, which was true. He, on the other hand, was happy to know he was going to be a father, and he repeated over and over again she was the best thing that had ever happened to him.
That was true.
When Spencer and his ex found out they were going to be parents, he was ecstatic. He couldn't wait to hold his baby in his arms and watch them grow. He didn't know his girlfriend had other plans, though, and soon after Victoria was born, she had left the two of them and never looked back.
Spencer wasn't going to lose the chance of being a dad. Even when he knew he was too young, Reid was ready to raise that baby on his own and give her all the love he had.
That's why he and Victoria were so close. Spencer was the only parent she had ever had. He was her world. And though Spencer was only 24 when Tori was born, he had given her his best.
Tori was the BAU's baby girl. Everybody in the team was a part of her life because she had grown up with them. Penelope was her best friend and godmother. Victoria would spend a lot of time with her while her dad was away on a case. Derek was her cool uncle. He helped her train to get into the basketball team and taught her how to dance. JJ was the closest to a mother figure in her life. Tori would spend time with her after school, playing with Henry. Spencer always said JJ was like a sister for him, and that's why they were all like family. Tori actually called Henry and Michel her cousins.
Emily was like her best friend. They could talk about anything, and at least twice a month, they would go out together shopping, just the two of them. Spencer always respected his daughter's relationship with his friend 'cos they were their little extended family. Tori called Rossi "Nono." He had taught her himself, and she loved going to his mansion, 'cos he always had new video games to play with her.
But then came (Y/N). She had joined the team when Victoria was only six years old, and for the first five years, they got along just fine. (Y/N) would come along shopping with her and Emily, sometimes she took Tori out for some pastries, and talked about bands, boys. Victoria loved her.
That until the incident.
She hated (Y/N) after the incident.
Victoria refused to talk to her after THE INCIDENT.
It was a warm spring afternoon, Spencer and (Y/N) had the afternoon off, and they were at his apartment... heavily making out on the couch. That's why they lost track of time.
(Y/N) and Spencer had started dating a few months before. They had been in love with each other for years. Still, neither of them had acted on it until Rossi's birthday party, when they had a little too many drinks and finally confessed their feelings. They wanted to take things slow, but when you make out in front of the whole team, it might be a little harder imagined.
But they had decided to wait for the right time to tell Victoria. But, unfortunately, the right time didn't come soon enough.
- "Dad!! I'm home!!"- Victoria opened the front door and froze in shock at the scene going on in front of her. The twelve-year-old had asked her best friend's mother to drop her home earlier when Penelope told her Spencer had already gone home. In Garcia's defense, she had no idea what was going on in Reid's residence, and if she had known, she would have never let Victoria know her dad was home.
(Y/N) widened her eyes and quickly grabbed a pillow to cover herself. She was shirtless, sitting on Spencer's lap. She still had her bra on (thank god), but anyone could tell that scene was leading to the bedroom in a few seconds.
- "Shit!"- Spencer whispered and closed his eyes as he realized what was going on. (Y/N) held her breath as she stared into the young teen's eyes. Victoria didn't know what to do or what to say, so she simply ran to her room and slammed the door.
- "Ok... so I think Tori knows about us"- (Y/N) tried to ease the mood and smiled at her boyfriend as she put on her shirt. But Spencer sighed and covered his face with both hands- "Oh, come on. It doesn't have to be a bad thing. Let me talk to her."
- "No, (Y/N), let me talk to her first."- Spencer stood up and kissed (Y/N) 's nose- "I know she is mad, and I should be the one dealing with her anger."
Reid knew his daughter well enough to anticipate her behavior. People had often told him he could be a little passive-aggressive when he was upset. And his daughter was just like him.
- "Victoria, open the door!"- he said and waited a few seconds after knocking.
- "Go away!"- the teenager yelled, laying on her bed. She felt betrayed and confused. But most of all, she felt angry that her father had decided to have a girlfriend. He had no right to do such a thing. He had to take care of her and her grandma. No one else.
- "Victoria, we need to talk about this!"
- "You seemed too busy with your girlfriend to talk to me, dad. So go away!"
- "Victoria Marie!"- Spencer knocked on the door but got no answer from his daughter. (Y/N) heard it all from the couch and tried to think of a way to fix things with the young girl.
Sadly, it wasn't going to be easy, and in the months that followed, everything was far from being normal again.
- "I hate her!"- Victoria huffed and left her book aside. Spencer was trying to explain to her why (Y/N) would stay with her and Diana while he took a short work trip for the weekend. But the girl didn't want to hear a word about it.
- "You used to get along with her just fine until we started dating."- Spencer tried to dialogue with his daughter. Still, it was honestly getting harder and harder each time they touched the subject.
- "Used to. You just said it. I have the right to change my mind about people. Why can't I stay with auntie Penelope for the weekend?"
- "Because I want you to make an effort and try to get along with (Y/N) again. Victoria, we've been through this before. I love you, and that's not going to change just because I am dating (Y/N)."
- "This is so unfair! I hate you!!"
Spence tried to stay calm, but after over four-month having the same argument almost every day, he was losing it. Victoria stormed out and slammed her bedroom door behind her back. Maybe it was better not to push it, Spencer thought, defeated, and called Penelope to ask her if his daughter could spend the weekend with her, 'cos he had to travel. Maybe Victoria and (Y/N) weren't going to get along if he forced them to spend time together.
Everyone had already tried to talk to her about what was going on: JJ, Emily, Penelope. But Victoria wasn't ready to give in. She wanted to hate (Y/N), and nothing was going to change that. Or so she thought.
The day Penelope showed up in Victoria's school and announced her something had happened to her dad was engraved in the girl's memory forever as the worst day of her life. Her father had been arrested in Mexico, but Garcia had assured her, the whole team was working to bring him home safe. Meanwhile, she would stay with her in her apartment (she was already there anyway), and Diana would stay home with her nurse.
Victoria's heart was broken. She was basically alone in the whole world. Her father was her anchor. Her protector. Her superhero. Her best friend. And now, all of a sudden, he was gone, and though everybody told her it was going to be ok, she knew it wasn't.
- "Hey,"- (Y/N) walked into Penelope's office and found Victoria doing her homework- "Pen told me you were here, and I thought maybe you'd like one of these."
The young SSA said and handed the girl a box of fresh chocolate frosted with sprinkled donuts and a strawberry milkshake. Her favorites.
But Victoria didn't reply. Instead, she looked at (Y/N) right in the eyes, not moving a muscle, and then returned to her homework.
It had been two weeks since Spencer had been accused of murder, and he had been transferred to Virginia. But the team was far from solving the case.
- "Ok, Tori, please stop this. I know you don't like me dating your dad, but this is not the right time to fight. I know..."- (Y/N) made a short pause and took a deep breath before resuming her idea- "I know how you feel."
- "No. You don't."- Victoria Reid's voice was loud and clear, like thunder, hitting earth with anger. So clear, in fact, (Y/N) widened her eyes when she heard her.
- "You have no idea how I feel. Your dad ain't in jail accused of killing some woman in Mexico. You have no right to tell me that!"
- "My boyfriend and best friend in the whole world is in jail right now, and it doesn't matter if I work myself to death 18 hours every single fucking day; I still can't find the way to help him. I feel lost and alone, and most of all, scared, 'cos I've come to realize I have no idea how to live without him anymore. I'm guessing that's very close to what you feel."
(Y/N) poured her heart with complete honesty to her boyfriend's daughter, fighting the tears back, though you could feel the desperation in her voice. She didn't know if it would be of any use, but she had to take that from her chest. She missed Spencer so much she felt she was going insane. She had no idea what to do.
Victoria stared at her, furrowing her eyes and pouting. She didn't want to cry in front of (Y/N) 'cos she didn't want her trying to console her.
- "Just because you are dating him doesn't mean you have to take care of me. I can take care of myself."- Tori said and looked at the donut. She was hungry, they looked delicious, but the teenager didn't want to accept any gift coming from (Y/N).
- "I am not here because you are my boyfriend's daughter. I thought you were a cool kid way before I fell in love with him."- (Y/N) tried to calm herself down and sat across the table from Victoria- "And I am not trying to steal him from you. I just wanna... make him happy."
- "We were happy,"- the teenager's comeback was like a slap on (Y/N) 's face, but she did her best not to take it personally. She knew it was useless fighting with a teenager.
- "I have a visit scheduled for tomorrow. If you'd like, we could go together."
Tori held her breath. She hadn't seen her father since he left for Mexico. Of course, Victoria wanted to see him and hug him. It was all she wanted in the whole world. But... she didn't want to be friendly with (Y/N).
- "If I go... it doesn't mean I like you."- the young girl whispered.
- "I know"- (Y/N) nodded, feeling already triumphant.
- "And it doesn't mean I'm ok with you dating him."
- "I understand. I just know you miss him, Tori. I really know how you feel, and I'm gonna help you whenever I get a chance."- Victoria didn't answer; she just sighed and grabbed a donut. (Y/N) tried not to smile, feeling she had a small victory.
Spencer couldn't believe it when he saw his little girl waiting for him sitting next to (Y/N) instead of his lawyer in the small grey room. Victoria stood up and ran to him the second the door opened and wrapped her arms around her father as tight as possible.
(Y/N) looked at the guards, thankful neither of them had tried to stop the teenager.
Spencer kissed his daughter's cheek a few times and whispered how sorry he was to put her under those circumstances. He didn't know what to do or what to say. He was speechless. A part of him hated the idea of his daughter visiting him in jail, but he also missed her too much to argue with (Y/N) for bringing her over.
- "I'll go fill a few forms. Be right back"- (Y/N) whispered and saw Spencer's warm smile as he mouthed "Thank you," still hugging his daughter. She whispered, "I love you," and walked outside the room. She knew Victoria would appreciate a few minutes alone with her father, and she didn't want to take that away from them. She really wanted to make Spencer and Tori happy, and spending time together was what they needed.
- "I know this is hard, peanut, but we'll get through it. I'll be out in a few weeks. I promise"- Spencer held his daughter's hands as they sat across the table.
- "I miss you"- her voice was a soft whisper, as she kept trying not to cry anymore. She didn't want to make him feel guilty, sad, or anxious.
- "Me too. How are you? How is living with aunt Penelope going?"
- "Ok... we watch a lot of movies."
- "And school?"- Tori shrugged.
- "Ok, I guess."
- "Victoria..."
- "I got a C on my history paper."
- "Baby..."
- "I know, I know, I should have tried harder, but I really didn't want to do it."
Spencer was torn between lecturing his daughter for getting a bad grade and actually telling her it was ok, 'cos they were going through a rough patch. It was obvious she might get bad grades, all things considered.
- "I'm sorry I wasn't there to help you"- it was all Spencer managed to whisper.
- "Don't say that, dad. I'm sorry I slacked off."
- "You know, you could ask (Y/N) for help,"- Spencer suggested, but Tori just rolled her eyes, annoyed- "She has a master in the subject..."
- "Dad, please don't force me to talk to her."
- "I'm just saying... you don't have to be her best friend, just ask for help when needed, especially when it comes to school. Besides, it's clear she isn't a bad person if she brought you here today."
- "She just wants to win me over."- Tori mumbled and crossed her arms on her chest. But she knew her dad was right in one thing: (Y/N) had done a pretty good thing taking her to see her dad and letting them spend time together on their own.
Victoria thought she was losing her mind after three months had passed and her father was still in jail. It didn't matter that (Y/N) took her every Saturday morning to visit, played her favorite music, and bought her all the pastries she loved. She needed to live with her father again and do all the small things they loved: making breakfast together, playing scrabble, taking long walks in the park, eating ice cream. Tori even missed her father's annoying habits. She missed his rambling and how he always had an answer for everything, even for the things she didn't want to talk about with him.
Spencer was an amazing father, no questions asked, and Victoria Reid knew she couldn't ask for a better dad than him. She just wanted him back.
But things weren't going to improve soon.
When the team found out Diana Reid had been kidnapped, (Y/N) had to take a minute and lock herself in the bathroom to cry her heart out. She felt bad things were never going to cease, and she didn't want to tell Victoria. The girl had already been through so much, adding the abduction of her grandmother wasn't fair. Tori was just twelve. She shouldn't be going through all that.
- "Victoria?"
Prentiss decided she was going to be the one to tell the girl what was going on, and (Y/N) offered herself to look for her. She was in Rossi's office, reading a book curled on his comfy couch. That poor kid almost lived at the BAU by then.
- "My homework is done."- she replied, not taking her eyes from the page she was reading.
- "That's good. And what are you reading?"- Tori sighed and showed her the cover- "Something Wicked this way comes," I love that book"- (Y/N) smiled and took a look around.
- "Figured my father forced you to read it."
- "Actually, I read it when I was ten, and it's one of my favorite books."- (Y/N) looked at Victoria, but the teenager kept pretending to read, ignoring her- "Emily needs to talk to you."
- "And why are you here? Why didn't aunt Emily come? Are you her secretary?"- there was something about Victoria's attitude that reminded (Y/N) of Reid.
- "I wanted to see you, see how you were doing, and take you to the conference room"- Tori sighed and stood up. She hoped Emily had good news about her father, 'cos she was honestly going insane.
But of course, Prentiss didn't have any good news.
- "I'm sorry, Tori, but... you are going to have to stay here tonight"- the girl frowned, confused, and looked at the whole team around her. Everybody looked like they hadn't slept in days. Which, by the way, was very accurate.
- "Why?"
- "'Cos we are going to have to..."- Emily paused and held her breath, staring at her niece's eyes.- "I'm sorry, Tori, but this is the truth: the woman who framed your father has kidnapped Diana, and I'm scared she might try to get you too. So until we catch her, the safest place to be is here, at the BAU. With us."
Tori gasped and covered her mouth with both hands as tears filled her eyes in a second.
- "Nana? Is she ok?"
- "We don't know yet, but we are working to bring her home safe as soon as possible"- JJ caressed Tori's arm and tried to hold her, but she pushed her away mad frowned.
- "You keep saying that, you keep telling me you are working to bring my family home safe, but so far, you haven't done anything!! I am still alone! Dad is in jail, and everybody knows he is innocent! And now nana is gone too!!"
- "Baby, we know it is hard, but..."- Emily wanted to explain to Victoria everything was more complex than they had expected, but the girl covered her ears and shook her head, yelling as she stormed out of the room
- "I don't wanna hear you!! I want my dad!!"
It was painful to hear those things, 'cos the team was doing the best they could for Reid and his family, but they could understand the frustration and, most of all, the fear that little girl felt.
- "I'll talk to her,"- (Y/N) said and turned to Emily- "You guys continue what you were doing. I'll try to calm her down."
- "Are you sure you wanna go?"- Emily asked and cut (Y/N) a short smile.
- "Yeah, for once, she is mad at all of us, not just me."
The young SSA walked to Garcias's office, where Tori was hidden underneath a desk, crying.
- "Hey."
- "Leave me alone."
- "I know I'm the last person you wanna be with right now, and I am sorry I can't do anything to make you feel better. I can only promise you this: we are doing all we can to bring your dad and your grandmother back home safe." - (Y/N) whispered as she walked slowly towards the girl, who sobbed, whipping off the tears from her eyes.
- "Just leave me alone. I want to be alone,"- Tori mumbled and wrapped her arms around herself, sobbing.
- "I'm not gonna leave you alone, Tori. You are not alone here with us."
- "I am alone!! I want my daddy!! I need my daddy!!"- the girl continued crying her eyes out, hidden underneath the desk. (Y/N) kneeled next to her and sat on the floor.
- "Come here"- it was a bold move, 'cos (Y/N) knew the girl was going to reject her, but she didn't care. She couldn't deal with her sadness, and it scared her to think how bad the child was feeling. So, (Y/N) opened her arms and moved the teen closer to her.
Surprisingly, the girl didn't reject her. Instead, she cried against the fabric of (Y/N) 's sweater and sobbed, shaking, as (Y/N) caressed her hair carefully.
- "I swear, we are not gonna rest until he is free and until Diana is home."
- "I want my family back,"- Victoria mumbled and sighed.
- "You'll get it. I swear, I'll do everything I can to bring them back to you."
That was the first time since (Y/N) started dating Spencer that Victoria let her close. In the middle of the mess they were all lost into, it felt like a little break of peace. Another small victory for the young woman.
(Y/N) didn't mind spending the whole night awake going through an endless pile of files if it meant there was a chance to bring Spencer back home. Tori stayed in Rossi's office, where she made something that looked pretty much like a fort on the couch, with blankets and pillows, to hide from the rest of the world.
It was heartwarming and heartbreaking at the same time, looking at the girl hidden there, trying to read, trying to draw, trying to do anything to take her mind from reality. Penelope brought her something to eat, but she rejected it, saying she wasn't hungry. Emily and JJ had tried to talk to her, but Tori kindly said she wanted to be alone. Even Morgan had called her and announced to her he was taking a plane from Chicago to help the team looking for Diana.
None of that cheered Victoria up.
- "I bought you this,"
Around ten, (Y/N) opened Rossi's door and walked in, holding a box of frosted chocolate donuts with sprinkles.
- "They always cheer your dad up, so I'm counting they will do the trick with you too"- the young woman tried to joke but found Victoria crying quietly insider her fort.
- "Please, just leave me alone,"- she whispered and hid her face with both her hands. (Y/N) didn't pay attention and sat with her inside the fort.
- "Not a chance."
- "I really don't wanna do this now, just leave me alone,"- the girl sighed, defeated, and continued crying.
- "Come here, I told you, you are not alone."
- "I am alone, (Y/N)! My dad is in jail, my grandma is kidnapped, and my mother left me 'cos she didn't love me!"
- "No, baby, don't say that"- (Y/N) wrapped her arms around Tori and kissed the top of her head.
- "I know my mom didn't want to have me, and maybe she was right... maybe I am cursed, and all this is my fault."
- "Victoria Marie Reid, you are talking senseless" (Y/N) held the girl's shoulder and looked into her eyes.
- "You are an adorable young girl who deserves the best in the world. Why did this happen? I don't know, bad shit happens in life, and we must try to learn something from it. That's it. There's no reason or cause. Shit happens, baby, but we must raise stronger than before. You are an incredible young girl, and I know your dad is proud of you. I am proud of you, 'cos you've been so courageous and brave."
- "You are just saying that 'cos you are with my dad."
- "No. I would say that even if I hated your dad. You know why? 'Cos I am not lying, you are awesome, and I love you, get that into your head. And you are not alone, 'cos I am here, see?"- (Y/N) ran her thumb on Tori's cheek, whipping off a few of her tears- "I'm here even when you don't want me to be, so I don't know if you can tell, but you are doomed, you can't get rid of me now. I'm like a disease, but a good one... I don' know if there's a good disease. I'm sure your dad would have the answer for my random comment right now."
Both Victoria and (Y/N) chuckled at the same time, and the girl nodded.
- "He definitely would..."
- "He would also lecture me why I shouldn't give you sugar after dinner, but he is not here, and I am not telling him, so please don't tell him 'cos he is going to be mad at me... and at you."- (Y/N) handed Tori the box of donuts, and the girl smiled.
- "I won't tell him."
- "Great, we have our own little sugary secret. Eat all the donuts you want; I'm going to be with the team in the conference room. Emily has a meeting early morning with the judge."- (Y/N) kissed the top of Vitoria's head and stood up.
- "If you need anything, I'm across the hall."- the SSA said, and the girl nodded, chewing a donut.
- "Thank you, (Y/N)"
By the next day, the miracle had happened. Victoria couldn't stop crying when (Y/N) announced she was taking Spencer back home. Tori stood in front of his father's girlfriend and felt how the tears filled her eyes in less than a minute. Happy tears, for once.
(Y/N) smiled at her, glad to know the young girl was going to have her life back. It surprised her when Tori hugged her, wrapping her arms around her tight. (Y/N) stayed still for an instant, trying to understand what was happening. She hugged Victoria and kissed the top of her head. The child was crying, and suddenly, so was she. The nightmare was over. At least a part of it. They still needed to find Diana. But the fact they were going to have Reid back was already giving everybody the peace of mind they needed to finish the task.
(Y/N) held Spencer's hand tight all the way from the prison to the BAU. He kept his eyes locked on their hands, fingers tangled together. He couldn't believe it was actually happening. He couldn't believe he was a free man.
- "How's Tori?"- he whispered and turned to his girlfriend. Penelope and Luke were in the car with them, but somehow, Spencer could only register the presence of his girlfriend. Not because he didn't care about his friends, but because he could only take just a small amount of information at the time. It was all too much for him at that moment.
- "Good. She has been incredibly strong."
- "Did you tell her about mom?"- Spencer was afraid to ask but needed to know what was going on with his daughter. (Y/N) nodded and sighed.
- "We decided it was better if she knew what was happening, we had to keep her at the BAU, and she was going to get suspicious she couldn't go to Penelope's... sorry."
- "Don't be. You did what was best for her."- Spencer turned to his girlfriend and smiled at her for a second. It was a short, sweet smile. Almost shy. But it was enough to warm her heart and wake the butterflies in her stomach. She was so in love with Spencer Reid, everything he did fluster her.
Victoria thought her heart was about to burst as he waited for her father to arrive. Spencer looked at (Y/N) one last time, and she squeezed his hand kindly, smiling when the elevator door opened, and all he heard was:
- "Daddy!!"- Tori yelled and ran to hug Spencer as soon as she saw him. He couldn't even step out of the elevator when his daughter nearly tackled him, wrapping her arms around him tight.
- "My baby!"- he whispered and spun her in the air a few times- "Are you ok?"- he held her face with both hands and took a good look at her. She was crying but smiling as she nodded.
- "I'm so happy to see you, dad."
- "I missed you so, so much"- Spencer kissed the top of her head and sighed. (Y/N) smiled, and whipped off the tears from her eyes as she stared at the scene. Garcia and Luke stood next to her, enjoying a brief moment of happiness and peace.
- "Me more,"- Victoria whispered and hugged Spencer again- "I swear I'm never going to fight with you again."
- "I'm taking a mental note of that,"- he answered and felt her body shaking as she giggled. Spencer hadn't heard his daughter laugh, giggle, or even watched her smile in the three months he had spent away from her. And that sound was sweet and warm, like a balm to his soul.
- "I'm sorry, Spencer... but, we have to..."- Emily interrupted the moment and smiled at her friend. They all knew they still had to do one more thing before celebrating. They had to take Diana Reid back home safe and sound. Victoria let her father go and smiled at him.
- "I love you, dad."
- "I love you too, princess."
And as the team walked to the conference room to brief Spencer about the case and update him with the latest information, (Y/N) felt someone hold her hand.
- "Thank you,"- Victoria whispered and cut her a smile that warmed her heart.
- "Come here,"- she answered and turned around to wrap her arms around her for a second. Spencer looked at them, and for once, he didn't know what to say. Victoria and (Y/N) just stood in the middle of the hall, hugged for a few minutes, and Reid couldn't believe it. It was so heartwarming and emotional; he really didn't know how to react.
- "Come on, dad!! You are going to miss the movie!"- Victoria yelled and set the popcorn on the coffee table.
- "You can pause it!"- Spencer yelled from his desk, where he was finishing writing a letter for his mother.
- "Or you can hurry!"- Tori answered and sat on the couch.
- "Here's your tea, your highness"- (Y/N) walked to the girl holding a tray filled with cups and more snacks- "Come on, honey! We are not waiting for you!"
Three months after prison and life had never been so good for Spencer, Victoria, and (Y/N).
- "I had never seen you so eager to watch a Marvel movie, since when are you two fans of Thor?"- Spencer walked to the living room, hearing his girlfriend and daughter laugh.
- "Always, huge fan."- (Y/N) smiled and tapped on the couch. Reid sat between his two women and sighed.
- "I can smell the sarcasm in the air."
- "No, honey. We love Thor, right Tori?"
- "Yes! Big fans, huge, the biggest fans"- Spencer looked at his daughter and raised an eyebrow.
- "Ok, I'll buy it. Let's watch the movie."
(Y/N) and Tori giggled at the very same moments like they were sharing a secret joke Spencer couldn't understand, but he didn't really matter. He was happy, his heart was content, and there was nothing more perfect that minute, 'cos his family was all on the same couch, watching a movie, enjoying an afternoon together. Like he had always dreamt of.
----
Spencer taglist
@calm-and-doctor
General Taglist
@all-tings-diego @spenxerslut @ash19871962 @babebenhardy
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jasontoddssoulmate · 3 years
Text
I made an account for the sole purpose of this TUA fic concept
I’m a sucker for those “the characters read the books/watch the series” fics and I’ve read a little for TUA but I just had the idea:
The Hargreeves kids watching the two seasons but instead of just the seven of them, their birth mothers are brought in to watch as well
Maybe have the birth mothers family (if they have any) watch it with them 
This happens before everything. Before Ben’s death, before Five’s disappearance, before they even have their names. The kids, One through Seven, are brought in. Maybe when they’re old enough to get the gist of what’s going on, but before they’re 13.
These 6 young women are brought in (because I adore that Luther and Five being twins is canon in the comics and I love the mention of it), and they’re confused because maybe The Umbrella Academy isn’t internationally well known so the kids are familiar but they can’t put the name to the face. Not until they introduce themselves, anyways, and suddenly they’re face to face with the baby that they gave away years ago.
Maybe a few of them regret it, maybe they tried to forget it, maybe they spend so much of their time thinking about it or maybe they’re overjoyed that their baby seems to be doing so well. 
But their names. 
There’s just so much about them that doesn’t feel,,, so right? Maybe that’s not the word for it but they’re too polite sometimes, their casually cruel treatment towards their sister isn’t normal and the way that they simultaneously act entitled and inferior towards each other isn’t suppose to be as normal as the kids make it out to be. 
All in all, the women are confused and maybe a bit wary of their casual usage of powers among each other that’s normal to the siblings as much as it is abnormal to the birth mothers. 
But communication is easy since each child learned their own mother language as well as the language of their siblings birth place and then some which only seems to remind the women that holy shit these kids are technically rich because of their father
The Hargreeves though? They’re confused and wary as hell. They may not have been introduced as The Inaugural Class of The Umbrella Academy yet (or maybe they have considering what your timeline is) but they’ve been training for most of their life and the situation is baffling. Here are these random people that they’ve never met before (at least to their knowledge) and they’ve never had to go outside to interact with others, not really at least. 
So it makes sense that they go for polite but threatening. They maybe decide unanimously that the weaker willed ones like Four, Six and Seven are discreetly protected behind their older (in spirit) siblings, One, Two, Three and Five. 
But they’re no real threat, its obvious in the way that the Hispanic woman uses such an endearing term like “mijo/a” and the way that the Russian woman has an ever present smile on her face and such a sweet disposition that reminds them of their littlest sibling and hey her eyes look just like Seven 
So after a while, they’re more open to being relaxed. Not Five though, he’s always been just a little paranoid and being a 58-year-old in a 13-year-old body never had anything to do with it. So he’s got a harsh personality but the Danish woman doesn’t seem to be deterred. He kind of reminds her of her older twin brother who acts so harshly, but who she knows loves her so much.  
So here are 7 siblings and 6 women and maybe family that was there for the women when they needed them the most. And maybe the person(s) behind this decide to be kept anonymous but they oh so want the children to get to know what being cared for is like. Maybe these women get to know the consequences of their actions or the children learn that the one who birthed them had their reasons. And it’s no excuse but it’s also not their fault. Both parties should be able to feel what they feel because it’s a complicated and maybe painful situation. 
The children lose their respect for their father every episode. Even One, who they all know cherished the favoritism but it doesn’t get in the way of his horror when he finds out that he used to lock Four in the mausoleum, still does if the flashbacks are anything to go by because not Four, not the kindest and brightest of their siblings. 
And when they learn of Seven’s powers and the reason why they are never present, they are understandably upset. They feel rage and disbelief that she had such a crucial part of herself ripped away at such a young age, because they know that their powers are like another limb. They’re born with it and they grow up with it and they were able to live their life with it so they feel rage. Rage that Seven had been so violated. Rage that the Seven they know isn’t really the Seven she was suppose to grow up to be. The Seven they knew as toddlers was sweet towards them but had a mean protective streak a mile wide that could never be controlled, not even by their father. The Seven they know now is so meek and desperate for attention. The Russian woman looks the most devastated as she thinks of the baby girl she got to hold for only a few hours before she was whisked away by a rich old man who is turning out to be the monster that one often hears about in television. 
But the women? They watch as the children in front of them, maybe a little damaged and emotionally constipated but so obviously protective and caring for each other, grow to be the grow ups in the screen above them that grow up and grow apart after so much tragedy. 
They watch as seven eventually becomes five. 
How Luther is sent to isolation for years and he goes along with it in a bid to continue to please their father.
How Diego continues to rebel because he wasn’t able to growing up but also maybe because he wants to spite his father, no matter how much he protests that he could care less what his father thinks.
How Allison goes through a divorce and loses her parental rights to even see her daughter due to her dependence of her powers that leaves her devastated. 
How Klaus is an addict who desperately wishes to get rid of the ghosts that have followed him all his life. 
How Five disappears only a little while after their current timeline.
How Ben was brutally killed by his own powers, never getting to grow up and become his own person. 
How Vanya can’t seem to do anything but go through the motions of her life, maybe having a little hope that she’ll be seen this time around, but is quickly squashed from Diego’s disparaging comments and the casual dismissal of her from her living siblings. 
They watch all this, and feel sadness and rightful anger that their babies lead the life of ex-child superheroes. The life of abused children. The life of children who had only each other. 
But was it really enough? Was it enough to know that they loved each other but had a hard time showing it and owning up to it due to fear of their father? Due to the constant comparisons and the way Sir Reginald had them turn on each other. 
But they knew it was enough. They see it in how Diego waits for Klaus to drive him around even after he had expresses annoyance beforehand, in the joy on Allison’s face when she sees Klaus again after so long, in how Five makes sure to check up on Klaus after his kidnapping, on Luther’s face when he apologizes to Vanya after realizing his own misgivings, in Ben’s task of continuing to follow his brother around even when it pains him and in Klaus trying to comfort Luther after he finds the unopened correspondents. They see it in the support they show Vanya as she goes to check on Harlan.
It had to be enough to know that after all they went through, they still care for one another and at the end of the day, would protect one another just as they were as One through Seven. 
So they watch what would be the Hargreeve’s kids misadventures, they watch as they grow together and grow apart just to grow together again, much stronger than before. 
They express sadness and disbelief when they see where Five ends up, they get mad when Leonard throws Vanya’s pills away, they grieve when they learn that Ben is dead, they’re embarrassed but find it hilarious whenever Klaus cracks an inappropriate joke, they become protective when there’s allusion to Vanya having sex, and are rightfully ready to throw down with Leonard as they watch their littlest sibling get gaslit into believing her family hates her as he nitpicks all of her interactions with her family. 
But just as they express their feelings over what happens to their family, they feel an immense amount of exasperation towards their older selves because so much could be fixed if they only talked to each other. 
They watch and despair over the missed opportunity that is Leonard in the same house as them just as they find out what his role is in the apocalypse.
Four tears up as he watched Klaus and Dave’s reunion be undone after all the heartache. 
Seven cringes when Vanya dismisses Five’s claims that he had been stuck in an apocalyptic wasteland and suggests that he’s gone crazy after his stint with time travel. 
Three feels her heart drop to her stomach as the flashback shows what becomes the moment that she faces the hard truth that come with her use of her powers.
Five feels himself flush in embarrassment as he watched two version of himself in the future, one that looks not much older than he does currently, go through paradox psychosis. 
Six feels frustration and a fierce grief that leaves him confused because he’s still alive he’s not dead, but I don’t have much longer. 
One feels horror as he watches himself hurt his siblings one after the other with a sense of helplessness because this isn’t me, I wouldn’t do this but I already did, why would I hurt my siblings, I’m Number One I have to be the one who protects them- 
The women, on the other hand, see themselves in their children. 
The French woman sees how her daughter and granddaughter, it seems, both look like a carbon copy of herself and her own mother. 
The Danish woman sees herself and her twin brother in Luther and Five. Sees her own personality reflected in Luther and her brothers personality in Five. Sees how her twins care just as much for each other and their siblings as herself and her brother do each other.
The Hispanic woman sees Diego’s fierce sense of justice that leaves others in the dust, and sees herself as she fought to keep her boy but ultimately lost him just as Diego loses Eudora. She thinks to herself like mother like son and bitterly laughs to herself but she’s so grateful that Diego had a mother who cared for him just as she cared for him because she often though about him and always made sure to commemorate his birthday. 
The German woman can’t help but see herself in her boy. Can’t help but see her little brother in him. Can’t help but see her older brother in him. Because Klaus is so joyful but he hides his pain behind a mask like her younger brother, he’s so loving towards his siblings like her older brother, and so nonsensical like herself. So like herself, down to the curly hair and the addiction. Even if she was able to overcome it with support from her family, it pains her and leaves her in despair to see Klaus and can’t find fault in those he had around him because she sees how much they try and sees how hard the Hargreeves find expressing emotion is to others. 
The Asian woman sees how sweet and shy her youngest is and thinks only of her oldest, who reminds her so much of him and can only despair in seeing that he didn’t live as long as her oldest had. She can only ask herself why her children don’t seem to be able to see themselves to adulthood but can only be grateful that even in death he has someone with him.
The Russian woman knows that her husband sees her in little number Seven, in Vanya, no matter how little that is. Maybe their personalities aren’t so similar because Seven is shy but she’s got the sweetest heart and so clearly loves her siblings. She has the same smile that she has and her little doe eyes remind her of herself when she was younger. She’s so small next to her siblings, just like herself. 
So they see themselves in these kids, these grown ups. But so do the Hargreeves. 
They see how Luther looks like what the Danish woman would look like as a man and how Five looks exactly like a younger version of the Danish man who introduced himself as the woman's older brother. 
They see how Two has the same skin tone and facial structure as the Hispanic woman. 
They see that Allison looks exactly like the French woman and see the same in Claire. 
They see Four’s curly hair and slim build in the German woman. 
They notice how Six shares the same dark hair and lower facial features. 
They see Seven’s eyes and smile and short stature in the Russian woman. 
So maybe they don’t know them well enough to see what the women see, but they grow to see it overtime because they spend so much time there, in this suspended room in time.
The women insist on getting to know them and vice versa. They insist that they have to talk about their feelings and assure them or gently scold them, depending on the reason, for what they feel because god do these children need to learn how to talk more about their emotions in a healthy way.
They get closer to the children and start to really see their childish side. They all fight over the silliest things, and become pouty when attention isn’t being drawn over to them. They crave physical affection, even Five who won’t admit that his maternal uncle patting him and One of the head made him feel all gooey inside. They make faces towards foods that they don’t like and still prefer junk food over real food. 
So maybe it’s harder to let themselves act like children because they’re being conditioned to not “be childish” but even then they have their lapses in control. Four enters a state of panic after being reminded of his time in the mausoleum. One feels overwhelming guilt when he sees how Luther hurts Klaus and reminds himself that he’s the one that needs to protect them, as the leader and self proclaimed older sibling. Five feels himself cry for the first time in a long while when he sees how his siblings act towards him in the future and realize it hurts him deeply because he knows that he’s messed up their lives a lot but can’t they see that he only want to keep them alive, he doesn’t want to see them die again, he can’t-
But instead of being shamed into controlling their emotions, they are comforted and reassured. Four’s birth mother helps ground him and counts his breathing with him to keep him from falling further into his panic. One get’s reassured by his birth mother that his future self isn’t his current self. That everyone in the room has seen just how much he cares for his siblings and knows he would do anything for them. The twins uncle gives into his urge and hugs Five, whispering in a hushed tone that it’s okay to cry, to let it all out. He whispers that his older siblings are being idiots and if they knew just how much their actions were hurting you, they wouldn’t hesitate to apologize and hug you too. His words only make Five cry harder. 
So they are cared for and allowed to be themselves fully and can be childish to their hearts content. And their birth families watch on in amazement and adoration. 
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I have so much more that I’ll probably add later, but basically I want them to be cared for, allowed to care for each other and learn to express themselves better. I want to see them get to have a good relationship with an adult and if possible their birth mothers. 
Pls share links and stuff if you get inspired, I’m not much for writing fanfic but I really do want to see something like this. I’d read the shit out of it. I have so much more that I want to add but I’ll probably do something about it later. 
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jungc6ck · 3 years
Text
Super (JJK x reader) Pt.1
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🔥 Pairing: superhero/soulmate Jungkook x superhero/soulmate reader
💧Genre: superhero au, soulmate au, smut, angst
🔥 Rating: R (18+)
💧Summary: Jungkook was born as one of the lucky few to possess superpowers, so were you. He’s looked up to you ever since you’ve been fighting crime, so it makes perfect sense the universe would choose for you to be soulmates... unfortunately for him, you’re not even close to what everyone thinks you are. Behind that golden mask you wear is a less than golden person. Little does our clumsy and awkward hero know what you, this world, and the universe are about to put him through.
🔥Word count: 4k
💧 Warnings: cursing, violence, fighting, mention of sex and sexual acts and tiddies, future smut, future violence, future drinking problem, future mention of depression, future monsters (I’m just forewarning you that it’s going to get kind of dark)
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“Hey! Pee-boy, wake up!”
Jungkook let out a little groan at the voice, letting it know he didn't appreciate the name-calling or being woken up.
“Jungkook” the voice now got growly and agitated.
Jungkook knew the voice, he just was too tired to respond.
“Get up!”
“How did you get in my room?” Jungkook muttered with his eyes still closed as he tried to roll over to escape Jimin’s nagging. His body rolled into unsupported nothingness and within a fraction of a second, his heart was racing right before his body made a collision with the cold wood floor. He knew he might as well wake up now.
Jimin cackled maniacally at the boy groaning in frustration and pain on the floor with his eyes now squinting open and looking up at his friend who sat in the chair at his desk beside the head of his bed.
“Your parents let me in.”
The only response the boy had was a sigh
“You know, because you’re twenty-three and still live with them… in their attic. To be honest it’s not even a cool lair.”
Jungkook finally sat up off of the floor and saw the neatly folded cloth Jimin had in his lap.
“Oh, this is for you. You should try it on.” He offered the fabric out to him.
Jungkook took it from him as he sat on the floor with his back against his bed and held it up the best he could to get a good look at it.
The spandex-looking material was a swirl of deep blue and silver reminding him of ocean waves at night.
“Thank you.” Jungkook gave his best friend a surprised but thankful smile before he went back to marveling at it.
“I can’t believe you made this, just for me.” He was astonished at his best friend’s talent.
“Well, you are my best friend… and a very special person. Oh! I almost forgot! The mask!”
Jimin reached into the back pocket of his jeans and pulled out a navy blue silicone rubbery object and tossed it to Jungkook. “It ties in the back with a thin string to match your hair but the inside of it is made of the gell stuff they use in push-up bras to keep them in place.”
Jimin sounded proud of himself but Jungkook couldn’t help but laugh until something dawned on him.
“Oh shit, what time is it?” Jungkook asked Jimin as his body froze up and mouth dropped open.
“Almost eleven-thirty.” His friend had pulled out his phone to check before replying.
“Shit! Work!” Jungkook jumped up and threw his new suit and mask on his bed before running over to his closet across the room.
“I’ll see you later, good luck today,” Jimin announced.
Jungkook had already grabbed a jacket and jeans and headed over to his friend now by the door to give him a quick hug and thank you, but accidentally and absentmindedly added a quick kiss to the side of his head which made Jimin laugh. Jungkook was in too much of a hurry to dwell on his mistake and too silly to take it back, plus Jimin had already left the room before he could even speak again. He grabbed a backpack and threw his new suit into it along with a few other things before leaving.
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“Hell,” Jungkook mumbled to himself with an exasperated sigh as his shitty car refused to start for the third time. “Come on baby, you can do it.” He tried again “do it for me” with that, the noise of the engine roared to life, however it still sounded as though its life could end at any moment. “What a good girl.” Jungkook realized as he drove off the way he had been speaking to his car. He blushed a little to himself and was glad no one overheard it. He knew sometimes he could be a little oblivious to those things with never having sex even once in his life. Once a girl did let him feel her up though at her house while under the guise of studying back when he was in school. He had no idea she didn’t really invite him over to study for a science test, he didn’t even know when she was flirting with him until she got frustrated and asked him to kiss her and take off his shirt. Jungkook had gotten a little bored with it though and nervous around her and never went back over to her house. That couldn’t have been his soulmate, but sometimes he wonders if it had been since she had been the only girl to ever like him that he knew of.
He was twenty-three, lived with his parents, never went to college, never found his soulmate like everyone else has, and made pizza for a living. It wasn’t all that bad at least he was trying and at least he had a job. He was simply making due with what he was given in life and he was doing his best and that was what mattered… well that wasn’t exactly true… until recently.
He was given so much more than any average person, he had always just been too scared to use it or even tell anyone but his family and best friend. His best friend. Jimin had known him since they were both six years old. He was the first one to know about Jungkook’s powers and help him figure out everything he could do. A lot of the time he helped drive Jungkook and make him do what he needed to do and in return, he liked to listen to Jimin and help him solve problems in his life, or hear about his day. Jungkook knew he was lucky to have him as a friend, always supportive, always creative as a fashion designer should be, Jungkook felt lucky he didn’t ditch him a long time ago. Jimin was accomplished, on top of having a good job, he had found his soulmate already, a rich modeling agent named Taehyung.
Jungkook had asked Jimin before what it was like to meet him and he replied something along the lines of “when you meet your soulmate, you just know. It hits you hard, you both know the universe has put you together. It’s not just love, it’s something so much more, something… addicting.” He had also said he had seen Taehyung before in magazines and that Taehyung had seen him on tv, but nothing hit until they met in person.
Jungkook had always wondered if he even had one if he was meant for anyone at all especially with him being so different. His parents were soulmates, so were his grandparents. Everyone had one but maybe not him. Perhaps the universe had given him powers but no one to love.
He didn’t want to think about it so he turned up the radio as he drove slightly over the speed limit into the city where traffic seemed pretty bad today.
“Fire girl, what do you think of her? Who do you think she is?” A radio talk show that he was previously ignoring made his ears perk up at her name. He had been enamored with her for years now. Everything she did, every person she saved, everyone she fought, Jungkook had known about.
“I think she’s pretty, that’s for sure. As for who she is, I guess no one would ever know in a city this big, maybe if I came across her I would know. I’d know that bright red hair anywhere.” The second man said.
Jungkook couldn’t help but scoff. They wouldn’t know. Not only did she wear a mask but he knew that a person’s hair and eyes changed when they activated their powers. She most likely didn’t even have red hair or yellow eyes in her everyday life, just like his hair wasn’t blue and neither were his eyes. Jungkook was just plain Jungkook when he wasn’t using his powers. It was obvious to him that everyone didn’t know that.
“What if it’s a wig?” The first man asked the second.
“Who’s got time to put on one? Especially with that whole skin-tight outfit. Where do you think she gets dressed? How do you think she knows when and where the trouble is?”
“She could wear it under her normal clothes.”The first man decided and that struck Jungkook as a good idea. “As for how she knows about crime? Maybe she listens to a scanner on the same frequency as the police? Perhaps she even just watched the news. All I know is that our city is lucky to have her.”
“Ahh I’m not sure about that. I’ve heard people born with powers are pompous jerks who think they can get away with anything, a lot of people think that.”
Jungkook had heard that too growing up. There were people like him and fire girl all over the world, while there weren’t many, some always seemed to get into trouble. That’s what stopped Jungkook from trying to be a superhero until now. He was afraid of looking like a dick-bag, he was even afraid of becoming one. Although Jimin assured him he could never be, he was still scared of slipping up. While some people didn’t care for superheroes, some people loved them, especially children. He just didn’t want to disappoint anyone, he didn’t know if he was even good enough despite practicing in his backyard and taking taekwondo since he was a child. He wasn’t even comparable to fire girl.
As a child, he looked up to her, not just because she was pretty and cool, and could do so many things he couldn’t, not even because she had the exact opposite powers as he did. He looked up to her because she looked to be around his age, she made it all look so easy and she hadn’t been in any kind of scandal yet despite her five years as a public superhero. He thought maybe she was like him and that maybe she just wanted to do good in this world and not need the fame validation like some other heroes. Maybe she just wanted to help people like Jungkook did. He also thought that perhaps she might be grateful for some help.
This city was riddled with robberies, bad people, murderers, and just criminals in general, and even with knowing they would be stopped they all still tried for whatever reason. Jungkook also knew that the police in this town could be just as bad as the criminals and they were just as much egotistical jerks as some heroes were. Jungkook knew that just because you have power in any way didn’t mean you had to flaunt it and abuse it.
“She could be a terrible person, how would we know?”
Jungkook turned the radio off.
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It was a hot summer day and working his butt off in a boiling kitchen with ovens going all day wasn’t what Jungook thought he would be doing when he was a child and imagined his future, although neither was using his superpowers and becoming a superhero. To be honest, he liked music, he liked to listen to it everywhere, at home, at work, even on his way to work and back. He had even gotten a guitar for his seventh birthday and spent years learning to play. He thought for sure he would be in some famous band by now and not just singing along to the radio while sweat-soaked his shirt in a pizza kitchen. His dreams weren’t what they were supposed to be, but he was fine with that, he was fine with thinking the universe would eventually just lead him to where he needed to be, and it was definitely about to.
There were ten minutes left of his shift, ten agonizing minutes where he was left alone to lock up the shop, finish cleaning up the place and turn the lights off. He was always left to close the shop alone, his boss trusted him to do it more so than the others, however, he still hadn’t made him a manager. The radio had been turned off and all that was left for background noise was the tv in the dining area that Jungkook let play on the news in hopes that he would see her on it as he swept the floor.
He didn’t unfortunately, but what he did see was live footage of a bank robbery that had turned into a stand-off with the police.
Jungkook froze and nearly dropped the broom in his hand as he watched the helicopter footage of the scene. The bank was close to him. He had his suit and mask in his backpack in the back, he could do this if he wanted to.
Adrenaline began to course through him at the thought. He bit his lip with his gaze on the tv as his options battled inside of him like violent crashing waves although he was calm on the outside. His eyes glanced at the clock on the wall. Eight minutes now until he could leave.
In an instant, he had made a decision. He took off running through the store, clocked out, and headed into the back where his backpack was.
He stripped down in the storeroom as his pulse hammered in his ears. He couldn’t believe he was doing this, but he knew he had to start sometime.
He felt odd being stripped down to his underwear at work while struggling to get his limbs in the tight, stretchy fabric with his hands shaking. He had gotten one foot in a leg hole but lost his balance and fell over onto the tile trying to get the other in. He decided that maybe getting dressed while laying on the floor was his best bet.
His hands still shook as he tied the back of his mask tightly around his head. He could feel the jelly-like side conforming to the curves of his upper face and wondered if this was how a boob felt in a push-up bra as he thought about what Jimin had said earlier.
“Okay.” he let out a shaky breath as he stood up from the floor “I’m not going to die today. I won’t die. Nope, not even once. I won’t die.” he chanted to himself hoping that implanting it in his brain would help him be safer while mustering courage. He let out a deep breath before he let his power wash over his body, knowing his hair and eyes just changed to blue.
“Let’s do this!” he said to himself with sureness and courage with clenched fists.
He locked up the shop, leaving his backpack with his clothes inside, and headed to his car just outside.
He had a fist full of keys, some for the store and some for his house and car. As he put his car key in the ignition and tried to start it, all of his courage died along with the engine.
“Balls!” he shouted as he smacked the steering wheel and tried again. The car simply wouldn’t start. “After I was so nice to you this morning?! Come on! I’m trying to be a superhero here!”
He tossed all the keys into the passenger seat and let the top of his head fall back into the headrest as he looked up at the roof of the car. He debated on giving up, but he decided against it. He could feel it, this was where the universe was leading him, today was his day.
The underwhelming but soon-to-be hero decided to briskly jog to the scene of the crime while people stared at him for the way he was dressed, cursing himself the entire way for being unable to fly.
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Jungkook was met with a blocked-off street with police officers and cop cars scattered all over it. Jungkook hadn’t thought about how to get through the cops and into the bank. If he wasn’t going to get shot out here by the police for trying to get into a robbery, he would probably be killed by the robbers for simply just strolling in. The odds and his luck didn’t seem to be in his favor today.
“I’m a superhero, I should be able to just go on by them.” He told himself and decided to try it.
He walked past the roadblock but didn’t make it far.
“Hey, kid! Where do you think you’re going?!” Was shouted at him making him pick up the pace until he was at a full run for the bank door.
A lot of officers were shouting at him, but it was hard for him to understand them with the pleads in his head for them to not take him out, the noisy helicopter overhead, and the loudness of his heartbeat.
He almost crawled as he entered the glass doors of the bank as silently as he could.
It looked like Jungkook’s luck was turning around because not only were the masked robbers too busy stealing and yelling at people they had lying on the ground to see him, but they had their backs all turned to him. This was perfect.
Just as he raised a hand to do something one was suddenly knocked over making the other three robbers look in that direction.
Fire girl. She had dropped from seemingly nowhere and kicked one in the face before her feet even touched the floor.
There she was, in person, in action, and not just on tv. She now stood in the same room with him with her golden mask coving half of her face, her yellow eyes,doand bright red hair. Her skin-tight suit was a mix of yellow, orange, and gold. She was so unbelievably beautiful that he felt like it was melting his brain.
Before Jungkook could go into too many starstruck thoughts over it, his body told him to take action as gunfire began.
He raised his hand yet again and let a heavy and harsh stream hit one right in the back, knocking him forward so hard that his head hit the marble floor and the gun flew from his hand.
He had never done that to a person before, but his powers had done exactly what he wanted them to, just like always. For whatever reason, Jungkook was sure they would fail when the time came.
His heart raced as all eyes were on him now and his brain panicked with “holy shit, I’ really doing this”
“Who the hell are you?!”
The words didn’t come from anyone he was expecting, not a bank teller, not a civilian, not even a robber. It was fire girl who seemed lost.
Jungkook ignored it as he saw a gun now from one of the last two bank robbers being pointed in his direction.
Time seemed to slow as his body acted for him, getting low to the ground and holding out his hand for a powerful surge of water to release. It hit the man with the gun pointed at him directly in the face so hard Jungkook had thought it had broken his neck.
From his peripherals, he could see fire girl sweeping the legs of the last man and stepping on his neck.
And then there was silence.
Both he and the second hero collected the guns before Jungkook threw one of the robbers over his shoulder, then he went for a second one which he threw over his other one. Was he showing off his strength in front of a pretty girl? Yes. But it was working. She watched frozen for a moment as he took the two limp men over to the door and laid them in front of the glass for the police to see and gestured to them that everything was okay and that they could come in.
Dragging another robber across the floor and into the pile was fire girl.
Their eyes locked for just a moment and they both paused.
Jungkook was hit like an explosion, although it felt physical, he still stood frozen with his mouth dropped open. It felt like he had been shot but it wasn’t pain he had felt in his brain and chest, but with a powerful wave of ease and belonging. Although this feeling was new to him, there was a strange sense of deja vu about it as if he had lived and felt it before. His brain was in overload and began to shut down until nothing but static was left.
“Who are you?” She asked again but it was much much quieter.
Jungkook was at a complete loss for words.
“And what do you think you’re doing?” Her voice went bitter and cold as she now gave him a shitty look through with her yellow eyes drilling into him through her golden mask that covered the top half of her face.
Again, Jungkook didn’t speak.
“YOU COULD’VE DIED!! It was obvious you didn’t know what the hell you were doing!” She was now pointing her finger angrily right in his face so close he felt his eyes cross.
“You stay the hell out of it amateur! Don’t EVER get involved in something like this ever again when you have no training and no control over anything in this situation ESPECIALLY when you have no control over your powers! DO YOU UNDERSTAND ME?! You’re an idiot and you could've made this job so much harder for me!”
She yelled at him while all that Jungkook could think about was what the hell he was feeling and going through and how beautiful and powerful she looked when she was yelling at him.
“I-I-“ Jungkook was trying to muster the brainpower to speak “but everything was okay.”
He had been so lost in her that he didn’t even see it coming when he was tackled to the ground and his arms were forcefully bent behind his back.
A police officer was sitting on his back and applying cold metal handcuffs to his wrists.
“Ow ow ouch.” He winced at the crushing weight on his back and the bending of his arms which he thought might snap like the delicate bones of spicy chicken wings. He could see the feet of the hostages beginning to file out of the building, some in tears from their traumatic experience.
“Why am I being arrested?” he asked wondering why he was being treated like a bad guy when he had just saved people and why wasn’t fire girl being arrested as well.
He was pulled to his feet by the handcuffs and patted down.
“You were unauthorized to enter this building. You interfered with law enforcement.”
Jungkook wanted to tell the cop that law enforcement wasn’t even doing anything to assist in the situation anyway, but he knew that would be a bad move and didn’t want to make the situation any worse.
“Why isn’t she being arrested then?” he nodded his head towards the other hero.
“She’s fire girl. She’s a superhero.” the officer answered simply.
“TELL THEM!” Jungook begged her in desperation.
“Tell them what?” she crossed her arms and spoke with a sour tone.
“Tell them I helped.” he urged.
“But you didn’t.”
She was lying and they both knew it, however, the cop didn’t, and began to drag Jungkook away and out the door.
In the open, people swarmed. Onlookers, reporters, ambulances, fire trucks. Everyone was watching him get arrested as if he had robbed the bank himself.
He was stuck into the back of a cop car for far too long. He even got the chance to see flame erupt from fire girl’s feet and watched as she flew away. Was she a jerk like many other superheroes? Or did she just not want to see him get hurt? Jungkook chose to believe it was the second one. After all, his soulmate couldn’t be a lying jerk-bag, could she?
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intercoursefluids · 3 years
Text
The Impromptu Sleepover Part 1
“Alright! The adults are asleep what do you guys want to do?”
Alya being Alya, decided to take over the sleepover to celebrate Marinette’s friends finally realizing (or in most cases finally speaking up) about Lila’s lies.
“Swordfight!”
“Movie Marathon!”
“Let’s play truth or dare!”
Different ideas all resound from the girls currently huddled in Marinette’s room, all the boys trying to pretend they didn’t exist.
Only nine people were there, Adrien had wanted to come to the sleepover, but his dad wouldn’t let him.
These 10 were the only ones from her class to come back to her and apologize once they realized who the real victim was.
Marinette almost couldn’t believe her eyes when Alix, Alya, Kagami, Chloe, Nino, Kim, Max, Nathaniel, and Marc came up to her asking for her back.
The only ones who had actually believed Lila’s lies were Alya, Max, and Nathaniel but the others still apologized for not speaking out for her.
This group apology and cry session that immediately followed ended up with them holding a sleepover to celebrate their reconnection.
One thing Marinette forgot about though. Was the fact that Chat Noir would come to hang out with her on Fridays.
Which is why, when pebbles started hitting her window. She damn near had a heart attack when everyone else noticed immediately stopping their conversations.
“Mari, Love, Darling dearest. Who, might I ask, is throwing pebbles at your window?”
Every single one of her friends look at her with shit-eating grins as Kim blinks up innocently at her like he didn't just confirm for everyone there was in fact someone outside throwing a rock at her window.
Persistently.
With a deep sigh, Marinette grabs a lightsaber and spray bottle from the back of her closet.
"Alya, I am giving you permission to film this. I am NOT, however, to post this to any social media, and no one except for those in this room are to ever see the footage unless I give explicit permission otherwise. Understand?"
Alya nods frantically pulling out her phone as she and Marinette climb up to the balcony.
"Oh, Romeo Oh Romeo. Where art tho Romeo?"
Chat Noirs sarcastic call sounds from below with a bouquet of Alstroemeria, Amaryllis, and Blue Irises.
Alya hides behind the railing, just out of Chat Noir's sight as she films the interaction.
With a deep sigh, Marinette turns to Chat with regret and sorrow written all across her face, making Chat pause.
"Princess? What's the matter-"
"I'm sorry Chat Noir. But it's over."
The stricken look on his face almost makes Marinette feel sorry for him.
Almost.
"I don't understand? Did I do something wrong?"
With another deep sigh, Marinette runs a hand over her face.
"It's over Chat."
Faking tears, Marinette ever so slowly pulls the lightsaber from behind her back turning it on making the red illuminate half her face.
"I have the high ground."
Marinette sniffles for good measure as Alya finally catches on. Turning her phone back to Chat to see him looking like he was about to cry before it finally clicks.
His face goes blank as he stares up at one of his best friends.
"I hate you so much."
Marinette cackles as he pulls out his baton, stretching up to her balcony to be face to face with her.
"I can't believe that guy calls you 'Angel'. Your halo hides your horns too well and- Ladyblogger? What are you doi- Eep!"
He cuts off abruptly as Marinette squirts him in the face with the spray bottle making him reel back with a yowl.
In his haste to get away, he knocks himself off balance starting to fall over backward until Marinette grabs his bell yanking him forward.
"Okay, that is it! I'm going home and I'm telling Ladybug you're picking on me."
Marinette wheezes, trying to get her breath back and just giving up. Climbing down her skylight to collapse in a pile of giggles.
Chat and Alya both follow her down. Alya pushing her off her bed so Kim has to catch her before she hits the floor.
"Please Alya. PLEASE, tell me you got his reaction on film."
Alya smirks showing the video currently saving to her phone.
"Of course I did. Now we have a new guest here now assuming that Chat wants to stay for the sleepover."
Chat's eyes widen, looking every part the excited kitten.
"Can I?! I've never been to a sleepover before!"
All of the girls gasp in horror, surrounding Chat as they search through drawers and Marinette's closet.
Marinette, always one step ahead, runs to chat.
"Go in the bathroom, detransform put these on, and come back out. I'm assuming your Kwami eats camembert cheese since you constantly smell like it. I swear no one here is going to find out your identity or even try if they don't want me to put them on blast with all of the dirt I have on them. Now go!"
Chat is shoved into the bathroom, the door slamming shut behind him. Doing as he is told in fear of Marinette, Chat detransforms catching Plagg as he cackles in the air.
"Oh, I like her! She'd make a great kitten, with how easy it is for her to cause chaos, just how I like it!."
Shaking his head at his cackling Kwami as he got dressed. Putting the mask Marinette made him on trying it securely around his head. Stepping out to find Marinette coming back with a LARGE tray of food and everyone else huddled around Alya's phone.
Chat can't help the startled yelp he lets out when Alix pulls him down to her, gently petting his hair as she glares at Marinette.
"You're a monster Marinette. How could you do that to him?! Look at his face! His little baby face! He looked heartbroken!"
Marinette snorts at the playful scolding.
"Let him go, Alix. Go find your own stray."
Alix snorts as Marinette pulls a blushing Chat to her hugging him close. Marinette sits down dragging him with her as he buries his face in her hair. Too embarrassed to speak.
He doesn't have a babyface. Does he?
"Awe come on Mari, you found the cutest one the least you could do is share him!"
Everyone laughs as Kim makes a grab for Chat just for Marinette to pull him closer to her.
"Noooooo, this is MY alley cat! Go find your own!"
Chat Noir would never admit how hard he had to fight down his purr when Marinette started petting his hair.
You know. Before he lost that battle and a purr sounded loudly through his chest.
"Please stop. It's not fair and you're embarrassing me. Mariiiiii! Stooooooop."
Everyone laughs when Chat complains for Marinette to stop, even as he starts to melt into a puddle on her lap.
"One of these days I'm going to tell M'lady on you and she's gonna dangle you from the Eiffel Tower."
Now, under normal circumstances, everyone would be worried, but it's hard to be serious when one of Paris's superheroes is melted in a puddle in your friend's lap with a purr so loud it's hard to understand him.
"I'm pretty sure Ladybug would dangle YOU from the Eiffel Tower for being in a girls room this late, without letting her parents know. Even more, so that you detransformed in front of us. Still want to tell Ladybug on Marinette?"
Everyone turns to Marc, Nathaniel's adorable spouse as they radiate badassery.
Chat's purr stutters before starting up just as loudly again.
"I will no longer be telling M'lady."
Marinette snorts leaning back on her chaise as Chat adjusts himself so he's laying between her legs with his head on her stomach. Facing the rest of the class as Marinette plays with his hair.
"Are you guys dating?"
"Of course they are Cesaire. Ridiculous-!"
"Utterly ridiculous!" "Ew! No!"
Are the two different responses that cut Chloe off. The group finishing Chloe's catchphrase as Marinette and Chat Noir look at the rest of the class in disgust.
"Okay, first of all. Chat what the HELL do you mean 'ew'? Marinette is a babe, and everyone in this room has had a crush on her at least once before. How dare you say 'ew' like you would never date her you would be incredibly lucky if she even considered you."
Alya states with a finger in Chat's face.
Alix, Alya, Kagami, Chloe, Max, Kim, Nathaniel, Marc, and Nino all looking incredibly offended for Marinette even as she blushes and tries to hide her face.
"Guys, stop! And what do you mean all of you? Half of you are dating each other!"
Chat snickers at her distress, pulling out his burner phone and snapping a picture of her face.
"Okay, there may or may not be a literal 'Queen Marinette Club" or 'QMC' for short. We even have several social media accounts dedicated to giving you the credit you deserve. Before you ask this started that one time we went to Gotham and you answered all of the Riddler's riddles and yelled at Nightwing and Robin for their poor fashion choices and called Batman a furry when he tried to stop you."
Surprisingly Nathaniel is the one who answers instead of Alya as she pulls out her phone.
"We didn't even start the club! It was some people in Gotham who did. Max is the one who found out about it."
Sweet Marc, sweet sweet Marc never knowing when to stop before Marinette popped a blood vessel from blushing so hard.
"Poison Ivy, Harley Quinn, Cat Woman, The Riddler, the entire Batfamily (Batman included), and even some of the Waynes follow the accounts. Not to mention the other celebrities you've befriended like Mr. Stone and Ms. Nightingale."
Max reads off of his phone, seemingly proud of Marinette's followers.
"Even my mom follows you, Mari. That says something."
Chat looks up cackling as Marinette tries to suffocate herself with a pillow, Plagg rolling around on her hair as he clutches his stomach.
"Dang! Pigtails has some, what's it called? Clout! You're famous, kitten!"
Marinette whimpers from behind the pillow, her face practically radiating heat.
Chat snorts before turning back to the group.
"Number one I am well aware that Marinette is awesome and that I would be the luckiest man in the world to have her as my girlfriend. However, she's basically my little sister, same as Ladybug. Sorry to burst your bubble, Alya. Number two, she already has a boyfriend, has for a little over a year now, and he scares me. I am not testing if I really have nine lives cause he would take all of them. Number three, can you show me the 'QMC' accounts I want to follow them."
The room is silent as Marinette glares at Chat.
"What? Why are you looking at me like that? Princess? It's not like this is new informa-! They didn't know did they?"
Marinette reaches under her, pulling out a very nice-looking dagger from under the cushions of her chaise.
"Say goodbye to eight of your lives Chat. I need a new black fur hat."
Chat yelps scampering away from Marinette on all fours as she lunges for him with Plagg chasing after them laughing.
They keep running around the room until they pass Kim and he reaches out and grabs Marinette, trapping her in his arms.
"Okay, nice knife. Not sure where you got it nor do I want to know. Second of all, what's this about a boyfriend?"
Everyone surrounds her as Alix pulls the dagger from her hands putting it back under the cushions.
"Why haven't we heard of any boyfriend? Are you out of your mind?"
Alya's calm tone is very misleading as Chat hides behind her.
"He didn't want anyone to know just in case people claim for me to be a gold digger. Scratch that, I didn't want anyone to know so he didn't get sued for assault if anyone called me a gold digger and he found out."
Chat snorts.
"Yeah, you, definitely a gold digger. You know, since you didn't even realize who he was for the first 5 or 6 months of your relationship."
Marinette's glare does nothing as a blush covers her face.
"We don't speak of it Chat. I can and will still skin you."
Everyone looks at Marinette in shock.
"Okay, so all we know is that they are a he. He is rich enough to make people assume Marinette, Marinette of all people, is a gold digger and they are in a secret relationship. Who is it?"
Max looks up from his phone, where he is no doubt taking notes.
Marinette looks at the ground mumbling something that no one but Chat can make out thanks to his super hearing. He laughs and walks over to her phone unlocking it as Marinette finally answers.
"Damian Wayne."
Everyone looks at Marinette in a mix of shock and confusion before Chloe bursts out laughing.
"Only you Marinette. Only you would get over your crush on a millionaire heir to fall for a literal billionaire heir without even realizing it."
She breaks off into hysterical laughter as everyone turns to chat who is now on Marinette's computer connected to her phone as a facetime call takes place.
It answers on the second ring to someone who is most definitely NOT Damian Wayne.
"Hey Pixie Pop! Sorry, but I had to steal the phone from demon spawn. He was trying to kill me and Dick with a spoon and lunged for his phone as soon as it started ringing. Me and Dick were closer so we grabbed it and are now trying to find somewhere to hide so he doesn't actually kill us. Dick wanna say 'Hi'?"
Everyone hears a shout of 'sure' from someone out of the frame before the phone is passed over to someone who looks much like the first, except they are older and have no white streak in their hair.
"Hey, nettie! How's school?"
Chat smirks, covering Marinette's mouth as she tries to reply. A door slams shut as the two guys hunker in the near darkness, a lock clicking into place.
"School is great thanks for asking. Could be better but we are all getting by."
Two faces appear on screen looking a mix between worried and angry.
"I swear to god if you are holding Pixie Pop for ransom you will have the rage of all of Gotham fall upon you."
Chat just looks confused before remembering that he's wearing a mask and is holding Marinette's mouth shut.
"Oh! No, I'm not holding her hostage, we're friends. Chat Noir, Parisian superhero at your service. I just wanted to prank her boyfriend, she's having a sleepover and I was invited."
Their expressions immediately relax.
"Oh good. I was worried about what would happen when everyone else found out. Especially Damian."
Both boys shudder and smile as everyone else in the room comes into the frame.
One of them opens their mouth to speak before a loud bang comes from the door. Two equal looks of fear take over their faces.
A second later a loud bang fills the air as the door basically explodes open, high-pitched screams of terror fill the air before all is silent a new face filling to screen.
"Sorry Habibti, my brothers are imbeciles with death wishes. What do you need?"
"Wow, Habibti? I didn't know you felt that way about me Damian, or should I give you a pet name too?"
Chat's grin SCREAMS mischief, as Damian looks down an ice-cold glare in place.
"Let go of my girlfriend before I fly down there and skin you alive regardless of her wishes."
Everyone shivers at the pure venom in Damian's voice as Chat lets go holding his hands up in the air as he grins.
"Sorry, sorry. Letting go."
Marinette and Damian both glare at him before turning to each other, both looks immediately softening.
"Sorry, Shaytan. I'm having a sleepover and Chat outed our relationship and decided it would be funny to call you."
His smile is so gentle it shocks the rest of Marinette's friends.
"Don't worry, it's not your fault the Cat is a moron. I miss you. When do you think you can come back?"
Both of them choose to ignore Chats highly offended 'Hey!' as well as everyone else in the room with Marinette.
"That depends on when you want me there and when I can catch a flight."
Damian sits down at a table pulling a laptop to him as he sets up his phone so she can still see him.
"Well I want you here now, and I can have you a flight soon enough if I ask Father to get the family jet ready. If I work fast I can have you here by tomorrow morning, if not sooner."
Marinette looks shocked.
"You can't just ask your Father to get a plane ready just for me Damian!"
He glances back at the phone before going back to his computer.
"Why not? Everyone here loves you and if you're worried about the cost of it I can assure you a single minute of your time is worth far more than a measly plane ride."
Kim and Alya make cooing noises at the two from the sweetness of it all as Kagami steps up wrapping her arms protectively around her.
"Before you make any more trip plans you are going to tell me what you plan to do with Marinette in the future. I will not allow her to be some temporary girlfriend if you aren't serious about her."
Damian turns back to the phone looking past Marinette to acknowledge the others for the first time since the call started.
"I can assure you I don't want Marinette to be temporary. I plan to marry her and I truly couldn't care less if any of you have a problem with it."
Marinette's face invents a new shade of red as everyone coos over how cute that is. After getting over their initial shock of course.
"Habibti, do you want them to be able to come with you next time you come over? I can have father speak to their parents if they don't agree right away."
"Are you sure that would be okay?"
Marinette's timid voice makes Damian look away from his computer.
"Why wouldn't it be? If you don't want them to come with you then they don't have to, I know that you have some trouble with a few of your classmates. Seeing how late it is there I would have thought these were the ones who didn't turn on you or came back once they realized how idiotic they were to leave in the first place."
"Rude, but true."
Damian chooses to ignore Alya.
"No I would like for them to come, it could be fun! I'm just worried about space and where everyone would sleep."
Damian snorts.
"You have nothing to worry about, if you don't want them to stay in a hotel they can stay with us in the manor, there's plenty of space. And if there isn't enough space you can just sleep with me in my room."
He finishes off with a cheeky grin as Marinette sputters.
"You can't just say stuff like that Damian! It was bad enough that you said you planned to marry me, you don't need to add sharing a bed to the pile!"
Damian has the audacity to look confused.
"What do you mean? I never hid my plans to marry you nor my feelings, I don't get what the big deal is about sharing a bed anyway. It's not like Alfred would let us do anything and we wouldn't even have the chance with the circus monkeys I call brothers."
Several offended voices with 'I heard that!' 'Excuse me?' and 'You love us and you know it!'s all sound from his end.
Alix and Kim are basically collapsed onto each other as they wheeze at his bluntness.
Marinette sighs resting her head on her hands with a 'why do I even bother?' before looking up again.
"Fine, how is next weekend for everyone. I know Adrien will want to be included and I don't think he has anything going then. It will give me enough time to convince everyone's parents if need be and pack."
Everyone agrees and they end the call. Damian and Marinette saying their respective I love yous and Goodnight/Good mornings.
"I'm going to duel him."
"Kagami NO!"
Kagami looks Marinette dead in the eyes before smiling.
"Kagami yes."
126 notes · View notes
coconutstars · 3 years
Text
Right people at the wrong time p.IV
Part I | Part II | Part III 
Pairing: Stiles + reader   Prompt: Perhaps, we were the right people at the wrong time Summary: Reader and Stiles finally get to talk things out and figure out if they are, finally, the right people at the right time (of course they are, I’m not cruel) A/N: HELLO, HOLA, BONJOUR. This is it. This is the thrilling conclusion. It’s long, it’s cute and every chic-lit lovers dream. Fair warning, it’s not proofed at all so be ready for some mess- ups here and there. I did my best. Hope y’all aren’t too disappointed! Thank you for all the kind comments on the other parts, they’ve warmed my heart so much. Anywho, enjoy my lovely friends.  ♡
[ :: ]
“So… are we just not going to talk about you and Stiles?” Kira was laying on your bed, flat on her stomach, supporting herself on her elbows. Her eyes were practically twinkling with curiosity. It was the end of your first week and the two of you were cooped up in your room, eating chips straight out of the bag with a sappy soundtrack playing in the background. With a sigh, you lifted your gaze from the toenail you were painting. You could tell the curiosity as to why Stiles and you had been avoiding each other like the plague was eating Kira alive.
“It’s…” you began, searching for the right words to describe the situation. You really wanted to tell Kira about Stiles but where would you even begin? It wasn’t as simple as just ‘we had a fight two years ago’. There was so much more to it. Explaining it all would take time, and a lot of energy. It would mean having to tap into old feelings, insecurities and heartaches and you just weren’t sure you could deal with that right now. “Complicated?” Kira asked, interrupting your train of thought. Your lips curved into a soft smile. “Something like that”   Kira let out a breath and rolled over on her back. “Yeah, I’d know a thing or two about that” “Oh?” you questioned, pulling your knees up to your chest. “It’s Scott” she exhaled loudly. “I don’t really know where we stand” You nodded thoughtfully. You’d sensed that there was something between Kira and Scott. They’d get… mushy when they were around each other. Kira would get all flushed and Scott’s gaze would always linger just a little too long in her direction. “I mean not that we’re…we’re not dating or anything, or I mean, I don’t know if we are… it’s all confusing and when we’re talking” Kira stammered. “Hey” you interrupted calmly “Don’t worry, I get it” Kira let out a breath of relief and rolled over on her stomach again. Her eyes met yours and she curved her lips into at silent conclusion. “Complicated” You nodded in conformation, your smile mimicking hers. “Complicated” [ :: ]
“Uh… Apparently there’s a party going on” Kira exclaimed in the middle of the romcom you were watching. She angled her phone towards you so you could read the words on the illuminated screen.
From: Scott Received 9.42 pm. Hey I know it’s late but there’s a party at Danny’s. You coming?
You lifted you gaze to meet Kira’s. “You wanna…go?” she questioned slowly, biting down on her lip. You knew she wanted to; her body language practically scream it. You suspected it had something to do with the opportunity to be close to Scott. “Uh...” you made an indifferent gesture with your hand. “yeah sure” you said with a pressed smile. Truth was you’d rather stay home. You wouldn’t really know anyone at the party except for Kira and you really didn’t want to be third wheeling it with her and Scott, especially if they were trying to figure out their “are we or aren’t we” situation. So while they did that, you’d probably end up squeezed in on a couch between some passed out kid and a couple making out. Great. Kira must have sensed your unwillingness because she suddenly got up on her knees. “I mean-“ her voice was anxious “we don’t have to! Seriously! I love what we’re doing…” she stressed. You felt bad. If Kira had the chance to… evolve or clarify her feelings for Scott, you didn’t want to be the one to stand in her way. “Kira” you began with a calm smile. “It’s fine, I want to go” Her entire face lit up in a smile. “Really!? Cool” she jumped off the bed and started pacing like she didn’t know where to start or what to do. “Wait” she suddenly said, her smile fading. “I don’t really…”. She looked down at her leggings and zipped hoodie. “Don’t worry” you grinned “I got you”
[ :: ]
Stiles POV
It was crazy how often he thought of her. He wanted to reach out but didn’t know how. It wasn’t as simple as just walking up to her and going ‘hey sorry for being a dick two years ago’. He needed to show her he meant it but how was he supposed to do that when he could barely even look at her without the guilt taking over. Hell, just being near her fucked him up. His hands would get sweaty, his pulse would rise, and his ability to get out a coherent sentence would momentarily non-exist.
Once again, Stiles eyes searched the crowded room hoping to catch even a glimpse of Y/N, but she was nowhere to be seen. All he could see was a bunch of kids playing beer bong over a trashed kitchen table, a guy from the team puking in a corner while his friend filmed it with their phones and a girl from English making out with a guy who wasn’t her boyfriend.
“She left ten minutes ago” a familiar voice declared. Scott appeared beside him, red solo cup in hand. Stiles considered playing dumb but knew there was no point. Scott was his best friend and brother; he didn’t have to be inside his head to know what he was thinking. Besides, he’d been picking up on his emotions all week. “I’m not sure she wants to talk to me” Stiles answered truthfully “Wouldn’t be so sure of it, man” Stiles let out a deep sigh. “I wouldn’t even know what to say” Scott curved his lips into a crooked grin.
“Then figure it out”
[ .. ]
Y/N POV You’d convinced Kira to stay at the party. Not that it took a lot of effort. Scott and her had been talking non-stop ever since the two of you walked through the door. You on the other hand had been hit on by some drunk guy in a Hawaii shirt, offered molly from a girl who looked like she went to Sunday school and had your favorite top ruined by a freshman with shaky hands. He’d apologized and offered to have it dry-cleaned but everyone knew beer stains were textile hell, even for professionals.
Slipping into a pair of printed sweat shorts and a hoodie, you tied your hair into a messy bun and made your way to the kitchen. You hadn’t eaten anything besides the bag of chips you’d shared with Kira. You’d planned on ordering pizza but got to busy getting ready for the party.
Raiding through the fridge you realized pretty quickly your parents hadn’t stocked the fridge before leaving for their “healing retreat” this weekend. It was some stupid trip their therapist had advised them to take every month to “heal the hole” in their marriage.
Closing the fridge, you grabbed a box of cereal with way too much sugar and made your way over to the couch. Taking a few seconds to flip through the different titles on Netflix, you ultimately settled on some new original series and watched passively while digging your hand into the box.
Getting back up, you were just about to grab something to drink when there was a knock on the door.
Shit.
Shit
Shit.
What the hell was Stiles doing here?
Full of panic, you stood in the hallway like a moron, chewing the mouth full of sugary flakes you’d stuffed your face with only seconds earlier. Why. WHY did he have to show up the one night you’d chosen to wear the shorts with fricken mermaids and seashells on them!? For a moment you considered pretending not to be home but realized pretty quickly that you couldn’t. The lights were on and your car was in the driveway. Besides, a part of you was kind of curious as to why he was at you house 11 p.m. on a Friday night when there was a party going on. 
Running your hand over your mouth, you sure to get rid of any crumbs or powdered sugar before opening the door.
“Y/N!” Stiles exclaimed, almost surprised. He’d been running a hand anxiously through his hair but moved it towards you when you appeared in the doorway. “You’re…You’re here” You furrowed your brow; you were determined to act cool even though there was a storm of emotions raging inside you. “Yeah… I kind of live here” you said, going to fold your arms over your chest only to realize you were still holding the cereal box in your hand. Sigh. For once. Could someone give you a goddamn break
Stiles shifted his gaze and started flexing and unflexing his hands. “yeah, no, course” he cleared his throat. There was a moment of silence between you.
“so, you’re uh… probably wondering why I am here” Stiles said with a nervous chuckle. You nodded slightly; lips pressed together. You still couldn’t hold his gaze for more than a few seconds.
Stiles cleared his throat again. Seems his plan of action only stretched as far as showing up at your house. “Yeah, so I came to say that…are you… eating that out of the box?” Stiles asked, nodding towards the cereal. “Yeah, so?” you asked defensively. “It’s dry” “I happen to not like milk” Stiles furrowed his brow. “What? You used to love milk? You literally drank like half a gallon when Melissa baked those fudge cookies for Scotts twelfth birthday” You remembered that party. You and Stiles were the only ones that came.
“Please, it was hardly half a gallon and I only drank it” you began, suddenly lowering your tone to a whisper “because those cookies were dry” You were acting as if Melissa was around the corner at risk of hearing you bash her baking skills.
“They were well-baked” Stiles whispered back. “More like burnt. They were literally black Stiles” For a moment it was like the two of you were kids again, sitting in Stiles room, discussing which superhero was the strongest. Stiles eyes searched yours and for the first time since seeing each other again, none of you looked away. “I’m sorry” Stiles mumbled softly. It was strange, and insanely cliché, but something inside you seemed to happen when he uttered those words. You wouldn’t call it heal but it was definitely along those lines.
“For what?”
The muscles in Stile’s jaw flexed. “everything” You looked down for a moment. Stile’s voice was low, and you could tell by his tone that he was being genuine. “I didn’t mean it” he continued. “I was mad, and…” he threw up a hand before letting it fall again “I snapped. I shouldn’t have but I did. But none of it meant anything”. “It’s fine, I get it. I shouldn’t have said those things about Lydia..especially since the two of actually....” For a moment it looked like Stiles had absolutely no idea what you were talking about. “Oh” he said as the realization hit. “Oh no, no me and Lydia aren’t... we’re friends. No, you were right about us” He paused for a moment. “My feelings, what I felt for Lydia...It wasn’t-” he searched for the right words. “Real. I made this, I had this idea of who she, of who I...” he shook his head. “anyway it doesn’t matter. What does though is that I never should have said the things I did. I ruined everything and...” He looked at you with such an intensity you wanted to look away but forced yourself not to. 
“I’m sorry” You leaned your body against the doorframe. You hadn’t realized how much you’d craved an apology until you got one. Suddenly it was like your hurt and anger didn’t matter as much as it used to. Perhaps it was the raging crush or mere wishful thinking, but you believed him. Believed him when he said he hadn’t mean it. A part of you must have always known, or at least hoped, that your friendship had been to real to not have meant something to him.
Your tone was low and soft. “It’s okay”
Stiles shook his head. “No, it’s not. But I’m going to make it up to you. I’ll do...”
You had a feeling the sentence was going to end with something along the lines of ‘I’ll do anything to fix our friendship’ or something equally as cheesy and you had to stop him. Not because it would be awkward as hell but because he needed to know you still had a crush on him and that being friends probably wasn’t the right way to go. You wish you could handle a friendship, but you couldn’t. You couldn’t be around with him without being with him. Your heart ached for him and knowing he didn’t want you in the same way you wanted him made it impossible to be near him. 
“Stiles…” you began, creasing your forehead. “I don’t think we can be friends” Your words clearly took him by surprise. “What? Why? Is it because?... I mean is it because of what I said? I swear, I really didn’t…” “It’s because I’m still love with you” you blurted. There was a moment of instant regret and you could feel every fiber of your body wanting to slam the door in his face, dive into bed and hide under the covers for the next few years.
Stiles stood there looking at you for what felt like hours. You sucked in a breath, feeling the panic in your chest “So… yeah that’s why and…”. Warm hands found their way to your cheeks and before you had a chance to finish your sentence, Stiles had pulled you in and pressed his lips to yours. It took a few seconds but when you were finally able to wrap your head around what was happening, a rush of ecstasy ran through you and you eagerly kissed him back. 
“Stiles” you whispered after a while. You didn’t want to end the kiss but knew you had to. Stiles, however seemed to have other plans and started trailing his lips down your jaw down to your neck. 
“Stiles, I’m literally standing on my front porch, dressed in mermaid shorts, holding a box of Frosties”
With a laugh Stiles pulled back. “Yeah, I meant to comment on those mermaids” he said. Rolling your eyes, you turned around to walk back into the house.   Stiles arms instantly found their way to your waist and he pressed you to him as he walked behind you. “What? I was going to say there are very fashional” “It’s fashionable, and I know” you said, not being able to hold back your smile. It was insane.
Seems like the two of you were finally the right people at the right time. 
Taglist: @loulouloueh
126 notes · View notes
mxndoscyarika · 3 years
Text
Honeydew (Marcus Pike/Moreno x OC) | Chapter 6
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Summary: Erin He moves to DC after working for the FBI in Texas and runs into a hero in disguise; Marcus Moreno. Something about him is familiar, too familiar, yet different in a way that she can’t quite place. Although confused, she can’t deny her feelings for him; perhaps, after years of regret, she finally found the one.
Warnings: food/drink mention, death mention
Ao3
Honeydew masterlist
Like my writing? Here’s my masterlist.
Author’s Note: Thank you for being so patient 🥺 School+job interviews have been kinda crazy for the last few weeks. But now I’m on spring break AND got an internship, so hopefully the coming chapters will be up soon. Enjoy!
“Are you sure you don’t mind picking up Missy? I don’t want to keep you from your work.”
Erin laughed softly, tapping her fingers on the steering wheel. “I’m turning into the school parking lot already, babe. I don’t mind, really. It’s nice to spend time with Missy.”
Her boyfriend let out a sign of relief on the other end of the call. “You’re amazing, you know that?”
“You’ve mentioned it a couple times,” she replied, pulling up to the pickup line. When she spotted Missy, she waved her over. Her heart soared as the little girl’s face lit up like the sun. “I should let you get back to work. I’ll bring her back to your place, so don’t worry about stopping by my apartment, ok?”
“Okay, honey.” A pause. “Thank you for taking care of my baby. I don’t know what I would do without you.”
“Probably run around frantically,” she teased, unlocking the car doors so Missy could climb into the back seat. “Now go save the world, Marcus. I’ll see you at home in a few hours.”
After that, she hung up and turned around in her seat to greet Missy, who was already buckled up. “Ready to go home?”
The little girl nodded. “Will you stay for dinner tonight? We haven’t had a night with all three of us in a while.”
Erin laughed softly, pulling out of the pickup line. “Missy, sweetie, I stayed over this past weekend! But yes, I’ll stay as long as you want me to.”
“Can you stay forever, then?”
Well, that was unexpected. Yes, she’d become an integral part of the Morenos’ lives, but she never thought Missy would want her around all the time. Surely she missed her mom, or missed having free reign around the house with just Marcus as her parent figure. She couldn’t be that important, could she?
Part of her couldn’t help but melt at Missy’s request. For a long time, she’d wanted to find someplace that she could call home–a place where she could live, appreciate, and be appreciated in return. It would’ve been a lie to say that she never thought of a life with the Morenos, but she knew that it was more complicated than her late-night fantasy made it out to be. She couldn’t just barge into their lives.
The drive to Marcus’s house was muscle memory at that point, the turns of her wheel well-practiced. After their first date, they’d gone on two more. And while neither of them had gone much further than needy kisses, she couldn’t help but fall a little more in love with him. He was worth it. He was worth everything.
Missy bounced on the balls of her feet as Erin fished out the house key from her purse, bounding into the house the moment the door was unlocked. “If I finish my homework early, can we bake something?”
“Maybe,” she mused, setting her shoes on the shoe rack by Missy’s. After locking the front door, she walked into the main family and dining area. “What did you have in mind?”
“Can we make a tres leches cake?” Missy asked, looking up at her with innocent eyes. “I asked dad, but he said no.”
Erin chuckled and sat down in the chair next to her. “That’s probably for a good reason, sweetie. We just finished a cake roll the other day, so maybe we can bake it this weekend. Instead, we can have ice cream today.”
The girl sighed and shrugged. “Okay, it was worth a shot.” She frowned as she read over her english homework. “Parts...of speech? I don’t remember learning any of this in class. Can you help me? Pleeeease, Erin?”
Humming in confirmation, she set down the file she was reading and turned so she could read the homework sheet better. “Ah, I remember learning this in school. It’s not too bad, it’s just that the names are a little weird. Let’s see…”
They worked on the homework together, Erin explaining the concepts and asking Missy to give her examples of everything from verbs to nouns. She tried not to think about what it would be like to spend more afternoons and evenings helping her little girl with homework. It was a long way off, and she didn’t want to get her hopes up.
She was explaining the difference between nouns and proper nouns when Missy mentioned, “You know, dad used to have a different name.”
Erin raised a dark brow, surprised at how nonchalantly the girl had made the comment. “Really, now?” It probably shouldn’t have come as that much of a surprise–didn’t most superheroes have codenames, or secret identities?
Missy nodded. “Well, I think so. I remember when I was little, sometimes he would write Marcus Pike on my permission slips instead of Moreno. Then he’d have to cross it out and fix it. Silly, right?”
Erin froze, her heart dropping into her stomach. Her Marcus...was Marcus? “Oh...that is silly. I wonder why he changed it.”
It didn’t make sense. Marcus Pike disappeared nearly a decade ago, and as far as she knew, he wasn’t affiliated with the Heroics. And he certainly couldn’t have a daughter that was in second grade.
Or could he?
But if he was the Marcus Moreno, then why did he need to have a fake identity? More importantly, why didn’t he tell her that he was Marcus Pike? Even if it was a codename, it didn’t matter once they met. Unless...he didn’t want her to know.
Maybe he didn’t want to be found;  because if she was anything to him, why didn’t he look for her? Why didn’t he try to contact her?
The air turned cold. Breathing slowly through her nose, she sat back and opened her laptop. She scrolled through the reports of Marcus Pike’s disappearance. There was nothing on him except some anecdotes and some text messages between coworkers. There was no address, no email, no mention of his name online. He’d very much disappeared. No one, not even her best agents, could find any trace of him after that winter day eight years ago.
Sighing, she switched gears and pulled up as much information as she could find about Marcus Moreno. She didn’t like the feeling of prying into his life, but she had to know. It didn’t make sense: if Marcus Pike existed for years within the FBI, what was Marcus Moreno up to? Did he disappear too?
Her hands shook as she clicked on the website of the Heroics and went to Marcus’s page. Unlike most of the other heroes, he didn’t have a codename. Why was that?
She paused at his photo, gaze softening slightly. As much as she tried to convince herself otherwise, he did look a lot like Marcus Pike. He had the same furrow between his brows, the same nose. They were the same height as well, which she’d noticed as her body fit perfectly against him.
They–he?–both knew her coffee order like the back of their–his?–hand, and knew exactly how to comfort her when the stress from work became too much. He called her the same pet names, her favorite being….honeydew.
Shit.
Only one person ever called her “honeydew.”
She was terrified as she scrolled down.
The first appearance of Marcus Moreno as a member of the Heroics was eight years ago.
How could she have been so blind? He was right in front of her the entire time, and she never noticed. She built her entire reputation on remembering details and noticing everything, and she couldn’t pick up on the clues. Who else would call her “honeydew,” hug her like it had been years, and want to take the relationship slow?
It was too much.
Not wanting Missy to worry, Erin got up from the table and locked herself in the bathroom before letting the tears fall.
Why did he have to go?
Why didn’t he tell her?
Why didn’t he come back?
---
Erin only let a few tears fall before gathering herself again. She couldn’t let Missy know the truth, not yet. She had to be strong for her, just as she had to be strong for her team when every lead turned into a dead end. So much time had passed since she last had any hope of seeing Marcus again; part of her didn’t want to believe it. But at the same time, she couldn’t deny it anymore: Marcus Moreno was Marcus Pike. He was alive and well, and happy.
The least she could do was be happy for him.
But it didn’t soften the blow on her pride.
Dinner was a quieter affair than usual. She couldn’t bring herself to talk more than a couple sentences at a time, for fear of something slipping out. Maybe it was better that way. Marcus obviously didn’t want to deal with the effects of disappearing, so why should she make an effort to find closure?
That was another thing, she realized. If he really was Marcus Pike, then would she ever get closure? Would she ever get to truly move on from the one person she could never have?
Once Missy went upstairs to get ready for bed, the silence grew deafening. There was so much she wanted to say, but she didn’t know how.
Marcus must’ve sensed something was off, because his brows furrowed just slightly. He came up and leaned against the counter, watching as she transferred the leftovers into tupperware containers. “What’s wrong?”
Erin sighed. Part of her didn’t want to confront him and destroy the little bubble of happiness surrounding them, but she needed answers. If he reacted badly….maybe he wouldn’t be the one. Resigned, she asked, “Why did you lie to me, brown eyes?”
A blanket of silence settled in the kitchen.
His eyes widened. “W-what do you mean?”
Fighting back tears, she asked, “Why did you let me think you were dead, Pike? I-” She covered her face with her hands, eyes clenched shut. “I searched for you, but you were gone!”
“I’m sorry,” he said, eyes glistening. “I should’ve told you.”
As she started trembling, he realized it was the first time he’d ever seen her cry. His honeydew was crying because of him.
“I just wanted my best friend back,” she said. Facing him, she asked, “Were you ever going to tell me? Or was I supposed to live the rest of my life feeling guilty that I was moving on from the love of my life?”
Marcus felt like he’d been punched. She…wanted him since the beginning? “Your...what? Honeydew, I-”
She stepped back as he reached for her. His heart broke as she shook her head and said firmly, “No. You don’t get to call me that. I don’t….I don’t even know who you are.”
“Okay,” he said softly, taking off his glasses. Tears dripped down his face as he faced her. “Let me introduce myself. Completely. My name is Marcus Moreno. We met when I was hiding under an alias: Marcus Pike.”
He told her about his family, and his involvement with the Heroics early on in his life. His mother, Anita Moreno, was one of the original heroes in the organization. As the Heroics grew more prominent and began working with the government, he needed to change his name–while his mother wanted to help the world, he just wanted a normal life. He wanted to go to school, make friends, and have a family someday.  With the status that came with being a Moreno, he couldn’t do any of that without putting his loved ones in danger. So, with the help of the Heroics, he changed his identity to Marcus Pike.
Most of his adult life, including university, was spent as Marcus Pike. His failed marriage had Marcus Pike written on the certificate. Even when he worked for the FBI, he was documented as Marcus Pike; no one knew who he was, not when new people were being cycled in and out of the workplace.
After moving to DC and having his engagement with Teresa Lisbon broken off, he gave up. He contacted his mother, got involved with the Heroics again, and had his identity erased so he could take over as the leader of the Heroics.
“But that doesn’t explain why you couldn’t tell me,” she said, frowning. “Is the difference between Marcus Pike and Marcus Moreno so big that it would affect our relationship?”
Marcus sighed. “Do you really want to know?” When she nodded, he confessed, “I didn’t tell you because...I didn’t want to lose you.”
Her gaze softened. “What?”
“I was afraid that if you saw me as Marcus Pike, you’d  only ever see me as a friend,” he explained. “And he is me…. But the way you looked at Marcus Moreno was all I ever wanted. It was everything I wished I could have back and more. The most painful part of leaving Pike behind was losing you. It was losing the chance to tell you how I felt, and to see where we could’ve gone together.” He stepped closer, and this time she didn’t flinch away when he touched her. “It was selfish, I know. I’m sorry. But I promise you, Erin, my honeydew, my feelings for you are real. They always were. No amount of name changes and secret identities can change that.”
Unable to stop herself, Erin threw her arms around him and buried her face in his shoulder. “I missed you so much.”
He held her close and stroked her hair, basking in her warmth. “I missed you too.”
“You’re an idiot, though,” she said, clinging to him as if he would disappear if she let go. “I would’ve said yes whether or not you were Pike.”
“But?”
“But, that doesn’t mean I’m not mad,” she said. A wave of humiliation crashed over her. “If you were anyone else, I’d be gone.”
“I know,” he murmured, kissing the top of her head. “I’m sorry. You have every right to be mad, and I don’t blame you if you want some space.”
“I don’t know what I want anymore,” she said softly, wincing as her head started throbbing. “I...I want space, but I’m afraid I'll lose you again. I’m mad, but I’m also….glad that my best friend is alive and well.”
“You can stay for the night, if you want,” Marcus offered, searching her gold-flecked eyes. He braced himself for the rejection, for her to scoff and storm out of his house. But it never happened.
Once everything was put away in the kitchen, they made their way up to his bedroom and got ready for bed. Sharing the bathroom as they brushed their teeth and washed their faces felt odd. Why did it feel like they’d been robbed of years of their life?
He didn’t regret marrying his late wife–no, never–but the more he and Erin spent time together, the more aware he was of just how much things could’ve been different. Everything he had was because he couldn’t tell a woman he loved her eight years ago.
Nestled against him, Erin sighed. “You don’t have to go with me on the undercover op. This job...it’s important and I can’t afford to be distracted.”
He shook his head. “No, I promised you I’d go. Everything will be alright, honey.” The familiar weight of her body against his soothed his nerves, even after everything. “I’m sorry we lost so much time. I’ll make it up to you.”
Erin didn’t respond.
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luci-in-trenchcoats · 4 years
Text
Soldier Boy (Part 2)
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Summary: The reader spends the day with Dean getting to know him some more when she catches him in a lie and discovers one of his most dark secrets...
Masterlist
Pairing: Superhero!Dean x reader
Word Count: 2,600ish
Warnings: language, mentions of death, angst
A/N: Enjoy!
____
“So how old are you, Solider Boy?” you asked the next day as you walked around the park. 
“Thirty,” he said with a smirk.
“Solider Boy’s been around since the second world war. So. How old are you really?” you asked.
“I was eighteen when I was injected. I’ve aged very slowly. I do age, but it’s slow. They...I shouldn’t talk about this stuff,” he said, kicking at the ground with his boot. “Ah, fuck it, it’s in the news anyways.”
“The compound V?” you asked and he nodded.
“First successful try right here. I was still going through puberty so it took,” he said. “I guess. The science is very complicated they said. They just said you want to serve your country and I signed up.”
“What year were you born?”
“January 24th, 1926,” he said. You paused and he chuckled. “I know some women aren’t into older men.”
“I must seem like a child to you,” you said, walking again and crossing your arms.
“You’re twenty nine. I’m thirty. What’s such a big deal about that?” he smiled.
“You’re sweet,” you said. You dropped your hands by your sides, Dean taking one of them in his. “Old man ain’t wasting his time.”
“Keep it up, kiddo,” he laughed. You laced your fingers together with his hand and smiled as you looked at him. A flannel and t shirt. Jeans and boots. A baseball cap on his head. He looked so ordinary and yet he was the first superhero in existence. “I’m sure you’re wondering if I ever had a family.”
“A bit. It’s okay. You don’t have to tell me anything you don’t want to,” you said. 
“No, I want to. I don’t talk to anyone anymore. Aside from the people at Vought to try and get in The Seven but that’s like beating a dead horse at this point,” he said.
“What do you mean?”
“Apparently I’m too similar in the market sector as Homelander. Go ‘merica and color scheme and that shit. I didn’t ask to be the leader or anything. I just...want to get off the kiddie squad, go do real shit out there, help people, not the stupid stuff I do now.”
“Maybe that’s why you don’t fit on The Seven. You want to help people, you don’t care about the photo op,” you said.
“I’m gonna keep trying,” he said. “But to answer your other question you didn’t ask, no, I never had a family. I had parents and a brother but they’ve all passed away. All my friends are gone. It never seemed right to love a girl and have a family and watch them all grow old and...honestly I didn’t want to watch my children grow older than me and die. I can’t imagine anything worse than outliving them.”
“You’re a good man, Dean.”
“I had the occasional acquaintance, don’t get me wrong. But it was always casual, no titles, nothing formal.”
“Is this casual?” you asked. He shook his head and you bumped his shoulder. “What’s different this time?”
“A chemical made me this way. Maybe a chemical can unmake me this way. We are so advanced now compared to back then. Maybe I can age normally with some other combination. Maybe I’m stuck like this forever. I just know that the numb pit inside of me woke the fuck up when I met you and it has been quiet for a very, very long time.”
“My mom’s quiet a bit older than my dad. Age gaps don’t scare me,” you said. He chuckled and you held onto his arm. “You don’t sparkle like the twilight guy though right?”
“Oh my God, no,” he laughed. “No sparkles here. I do make sparks when bullets bounce off of me though.”
“Well now you’re just bragging,” you said. You rested your head on his arm, thinking back to a movie you used to watch as a kid, Solider Boy the lead in the thing. “Dean.”
“Hm?”
“Why did you just lie about not having a family?” you asked, pulling away from him. You knew you could have let it go, should have let it go for the sake of the mission but damn you were pissed off at him for lying to you. You crossed your arms and he frowned, going over to a nearby bench. You sat down next to him, Solider Boy rubbing his hands together. “You were in this movie my brother loved so I watched it all the time. He was a huge fan and he would never shut up about you. I never paid much attention but I remember. You had a wife and kids once.”
“You’re gonna leave after I tell you this part,” he said, a sad smile on his face.
“I’m gonna leave if you don’t tell me the truth right now. You will never see my face again. You promised you would not lie to me. Out with it Dean.”
“I wasn’t always a good person. It’s very...difficult to stay good when there’s so much bad around you. When there’s no consequences.”
“What’s the worst thing you’ve ever done?”
“My son and daughter died hating me, thinking I was a monster. They died because of me. That was the breaking point for me. I walked away after that, I started over. I’d turned into this thing I didn’t recognize. I became Soldier Boy. Dean Winchester...he died back in that war. Not until the nineties did I realize what had happened to me. So I left. Went away from the world. Brought Dean back to life and Soldier Boy came back but different. Good this time. Greed, corruption. It’s not happening this time. Then you said...you made that comment about me being naive, that I’d turn eventually into an asshole supe like the rest of them. I’m terrified of that happening to me again. Maybe that’s why I like you, cause you’ll remind me not to be a monster again.”
“Why do you call yourself a monster?” you asked quietly.
“The first time I killed someone, I was mortified. The last time I did it, I laughed. It made me happy. I hurt him before I did it even. I stopped caring about people. My wife wanted a divorce. I thought she was hot, she fit my image. I told her I didn’t want one so she took some pills and told me she’d rather die than live with the devil. My kids were young adults, late twenties. I snapped at them when they blamed me for their mother’s death. My son hit me so I pushed him and he hit his head. My daughter ran out, afraid of me and was hit by a car. They died because I didn’t want to lose my image. I wasn’t even that upset at first. I thought a widow superhero, that’ll boost my numbers.”
“If that didn’t…” you said, Dean running his hands over his thighs. “What made you change?”
“I found a drawing my daughter had made me when she was small,” he said. He took out his wallet and unfolded a laminated sheet of paper holding it out to you. It was done in crayon, a few stick figures with one of them wearing a superhero outfit and the word “daddy” written above it. “She loved me once. I ripped it away from her. I found that cleaning out the house and I realized what I’d done. I’m worse than any bad guy there ever was for doing that to them. I stopped caring. When you stop caring is when you lose those bits of your soul. They break off until there’s nothing left. I am a monster, Y/N. Nothing I ever do can make up for it and save whatever shattered pieces are in there. But I owe it to my kids to be good and stay good.”
You handed the sheet back and he tucked it away, his wallet going in his pocket as he stared out at the trees across the path. 
“I understand if you would no longer like to see or speak to me again. Or if you want to slap me in the face. That’s also acceptable,” he said.
“What year was all of this?” you asked.
“They died in ‘92. Then I ran away to Kansas, worked as a farmhand for a while,” he said. He rubbed his palm and stared down at his lap. “Just...be careful at night and try to stop walking down alleys for me, okay?”
“Why are you saying that?”
“I’m never going to see you again after you get up from this bench.”
You stood up and he let out a sigh. You took a step to your left and sat down closer to him, turning your head as Dean looked so horribly confused at you. You couldn’t walk away. It wasn’t an option. But while you knew you couldn’t walk because of the mission Butcher had you on, you didn’t want to. There was so much self-hate inside of Dean he hid well and part of you ached that he considered himself sub-human.
“Y/N, what are you doing?”
“Dean. What happened to your family was horrible but they were accidents. Your daughter, your son. Your wife, did she even let it sink in for you before she did that? If I was married to someone and they suddenly asked for a divorce my gut reaction would probably be no too. I’m not saying you didn’t play a part but those were her actions that trickled down and affected the rest of you. Letting yourself become corrupted means you’re human. We all make fucking mistakes. Yours are a little big, I admit that. But you try to make up for it. All you can do after the fact is try and you’re doing that. There’s a soul in there Dean. If there wasn’t this wouldn’t be eating you alive. Cut yourself a break. I gotta process everything you said but I’m not walking away. Promise you will never lie to me again and I can promise you that I won’t judge you, no matter what you’ve done.”
“I’ve been around 95 years and I’ve never met anyone like you,” he said. “That’s a good thing. I will never lie to you again. I swear. I’m sorry. I was...frightened of telling you who I was deep down. I like you. I’ve never felt like this before. It’s the first bit of happiness I’ve felt in a long time and I don’t want it to go away just yet.”
“It’s okay that you were scared. Maybe on our third date we can have a less intense conversation. We can talk about how you’re older than sliced bread,” you teased. 
“You youngin’s don’t know how good you got it,” he chuckled. You took his hand into your lap and he smiled. “Not a monster to you?”
“No. Just be a good guy and I’ll be happy,” you said. You leaned over and kissed his cheek, Dean looking you up and down.
“I wish I knew you when I was a dumb kid that let them shove that stuff in me. I never would have said yes if I had a girl back home.”
“Well, from now on, maybe just ask if you think I’d be proud of what you were doing. If the anwer’s no, maybe don’t do it,” you said.
“I’m gonna keep that one,” he said. “Also did you subtly drop that I’m getting another date despite all of that?”
“You told me the truth, even though it was hard. That’s why I like you too,” you said. “Plus you’re really old so you must have like, sex down to perfection by this point.”
“Gonna blow your fucking mind,” he teased. “Eventually. I know things are different nowadays but…you’re special. You’re not a hookup.”
“When you’re ready, you let me know and we’ll go from there, okay?” He nodded and you gave him a hug, Dean hesitant at first but he quickly relaxed into it. “You alright?”
“Been a long time since I had a hug is all.”
“You need one, just come to me,” you said. You sat back and he smiled. “So. Let’s go do something fun. You look like you could use it.”
“Night,” murmured Dean as he kissed you at your doorstep that evening.
“Night,” you said, not moving away from him just yet. His ears perked up and he forced himself away. “Trouble?”
“Yeah. Nothing major. I’ll see you tomorrow,” he said.
“Bye Dean,” you said, watching him take off running far faster than any human man could. You smiled as you locked up, a loud thud coming from your kitchen. You unlocked the door and looked around. “Hello?”
“For such a nice house you have an incredibly small kitchen,” said Butcher as he walked out with the bottle of your nicest bourbon.
“Oh come on, that was a housewarming present,” you said.
“I swipe you some more,” he said, taking a long swig. “How’s it going?”
“Good. We got close today but Butcher you seriously can not come back here again. Dean was this close to coming inside tonight.”
“Dean. I thought he was Solider Boy.”
“You know what I mean.”
“You want to wind up like his last broad did? You give him the puppy dog eyes and then we make a move,” he said.
“I’m starting to think we might get further with sugar over spice. Billy he wants to make up for his past. If he gets into The Seven he could be a serious asset.”
“Are you going soft on me?” he asked, an edge in his voice. 
“Let me work him the way I know best. Trust me,” you said.
“Don’t forget what this is for. You call when you’re ready,” he said. “Don’t take too long.”
He left out the back and you sighed, running your hands over your face. Sure, Dean had done some bad things in the past but who hadn’t? He wasn’t playing you, he had no reason to. The part of you that wanted revenge was still there but he didn’t cause your brother to die, not really. He was simply a prime target at the moment.
You swallowed and went to the kitchen, taking the bottle of alcohol to the family room. You sat on the couch and took a swig, letting it burn your throat.
You didn’t want him to get hurt. You liked him. A lot. Maybe you could convince him to go away, be someplace safer. Your head turned when you got a text, the alert saying it was from Dean and him asking you if you wanted to get out of the city and go hiking tomorrow.
Maybe that’d be a good time to tell him the truth. He was bound to find out eventually and if he got mad, at least you’d be the only one in danger. Billy’s voice was at the back of your head but you ignored it. He’d been angry for too long, couldn’t see the good in people anymore. Dean wasn’t what you thought he was at first. He was good deep down.
You’d tell Solider Boy the truth tomorrow and hoped you lived to see the next day.
______
A/N: Read the Final Part here!
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petersasteria · 3 years
Text
The Forces of Nature || Ch.18
Pairing: Peter Parker x Superhero!Reader Summary: “There’s this kid out there that can control the wind or something. I think she’s a great addition to the team. Let’s recruit her.” 2,000 words italics are flashbacks Series Masterlist || Parker || Taglist
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The Violent Swine was dead.
Y/N didn’t know how to react. She never planned on killing someone, but all she saw was red. She lost a lot of people and she didn’t want to lose more. She also didn’t want other people to undergo what she went through.
Scott and Wanda went back to the place where they led people to safety and told them it was safe to go out. The rest of the avengers were fixing the damages they caused. Peter saw how distraught Y/N was as she looked at the ground where The Violent Swine was swallowed.
He approached her and put a hand on her shoulder. She jumped a bit and turned her head to see who it was. She sighed in relief when she realized it was just Peter. She looked back on the ground and Peter said, “You did really great out there. I told you, you’d fit right in.”
She smiled a bit and said, “I guess. I’m just really conflicted and I don’t know how to feel right now. He mentioned my parents and I just- I snapped and made the ground swallow him whole.”
“You were mad, that’s why you did that.” Peter told her.
“He said something else, though.” She said before fully facing Peter. “He called me ‘Gaia’ and he said something about my origin and I’m so confused.”
“Yeah, I figured. It won’t matter anymore when you’re dead like her. I’m doing you a favor, Gaia.” He said tauntingly.
“Don’t call me that!” She shouted and flew up in the sky. She looked down at him and got ready to finally end him.
“Oh, you don’t know your origin?” The Violent Swine chuckled. “That’s upsetting, darling. You don’t belong here at all! That’s why I’m sent to kill you.”
“He wanted to kill me because of my origin. How does that make sense?!” She shrieked. She wanted to cry.
“I don’t know how to help you, Y/N.” Peter sighed. As much as he loved her, he didn’t know what to do.
“I think I need some time alone, okay?” She gave him a small smile before hugging him. He hugged back tighter, kissing her cheek, before pulling away.
“I’ll come for you when we’re leaving.” Peter said and she nodded before walking away.
She found herself in a big, beautiful garden and at the end of the garden was a statue of a beautiful woman. The statue was a woman who was standing while holding flowers. Y/N stepped closer and read the name of the statue on the plaque beneath it.
“GAIA, GODDESS OF THE EARTH”
She looked back up at the statue and chuckled lightly, “Why do I feel like we’re connected somehow?”
This time, she laughed hard as she looked at the beautiful statue in front of her. “I’m going crazy. Here I am, in Greece, talking to a statue. Not just any statue, but the statue of the goddess of the Earth.” She continued.
Y/N looked in the eyes of the statue and felt like she was being watched. It’s like the statue was watching her. “Did you lead me here with your powers, Gaia? We’re the same. We’re exactly the same and I don’t even know why I have these powers. My parents are regular people and- HOLY SHIT!”
The statue of the goddess suddenly came to life and moved. Y/N took a few steps back in fear. Gaia was no longer a statue. She stared at Y/N with a bright smile. “I am so glad that you are here, my child.” Gaia smiled. “I have been watching you grow and I think it’s time for you to know the truth.”
“I don’t know what you’re talking about.” Y/N said nervously.
Gaia grinned and looked up at the sky and moved her hands, as if manipulating it. Y/N looked up and saw the clouds moving backwards and she saw the sun rising and setting and she saw the moon too. It was like a timelapse of going backwards. Gaia stopped and looked at Y/N. “Come.” Gaia nodded her head to the left before going down from her place.
She and Y/N walked to another location, not far from the garden. Y/N stopped in her tracks when she saw her father. Well, not yet. This version of her father was way back when he was a young teenager.
“Do you recognize him?” Gaia asked softly. Y/N nodded, “It’s my dad. I miss him so much.”
She turned to the goddess and asked, “What are we doing here? I’m con-”
“You wanted answers. Here it is. Stay and watch.” Gaia said and Y/N turned to watch again.
Adam wandered around his new home. He and his family moved to Greece because of his mother’s occupation. He always loved exploring and he didn’t mind moving from one place to another because he loved basking in the new ambiance. He walked around and saw a few kids vandalizing a statue.
He frowned at the sight and walked over to them. “Hey, stop that!” He exclaimed, causing the kids to run away. He shook his head when he saw the ruined statue. Drawings were on the surface and a few stickers were there too.
“Those kids don’t know how to appreciate art.” He said. With that, he took off the stickers from the statue and took his time to do so. When he was done, it was already dinner time. Promising himself that he’d be back tomorrow with a bucket of soap and water and a clean rug, he went home.
The next day, he excitedly went back to the statue with his cleaning materials. “I’m back!” He said to no one in particular. “I hope this is alright to clean the drawings off of you.”
He got started in cleaning and hours later, he was done. The drawings weren’t there anymore and the statue was clean. He was proud of himself. “I hope those kids don’t come back here.” He said. “I’ll go now. I don’t know why I’m still talking to you because you’re a statue, but I don’t care anymore. I might come back and give you a flower.”
The next day, Adam came back and planted a flower next to the statue. After that, he left. Sometimes, he’d go back there and talk to the statue about his day or plant more flowers. One night, as he was sleeping, Gaia visited him in his sleep.
She stood next to his bed and watched him sleep. She leaned down and whispered in his ear, “Thank you for everything you’ve done for me. With that, I promise you a child that harnesses powers similar to mine. In addition, she’ll be able to see memories so that she can relive them. She’ll also be able to stop time, so she can take a short break if she’s overwhelmed.”
“You’ve been so good to nature, Adam. In return, nature will be good to you. I promise you a girl who will help you raise this child.”
The goddess looked up at the sky again and moved her hands again like before. They were back at the garden and Y/N looked at the goddess with furrowed eyebrows. The beautiful goddess looked at her and smiled, “You’re a gift from me, Y/N.”
“You gave me powers like yours because my father was good to you? This is his reward; a daughter with powers of a goddess?” Y/N asked. She couldn’t believe it.
“Your father was a good man and I’ve been watching over him since he saved me. In return, I had to make sure his life was just as good as he is. I just didn’t expect his life to be cut short.” Gaia frowned as she stepped forward to hold both of Y/N’s hands. “Trust me when I tell you that you weren’t alone that night. I was there and saw the whole thing.”
“Why didn’t you do anything?” Y/N said in a hushed voice, afraid that her voice might crack if she spoke louder. “Why didn’t you save them?”
“Because of the condition of love. I asked help from Aphrodite to find the perfect lover for your father and when we did, I told her about my plan. I told her that I wanted to give them a daughter with powers like mine and that I wanted to be there and make my presence known. Your father was like a son to me.” Gaia explained.
“But the condition of love got in the way. Aphrodite said I couldn’t make my presence known because as soon as your mother finds out that she’s pregnant with you, my connection with your father will be over.”
“Why?” Y/N questioned.
“Because he’ll now be connected to you. You’re a descendant of mine and his new chapter in life will immediately begin when your mother becomes pregnant. As much as I loved your father like a son, I had to let him go so that he could have you. I loved him enough to let him go.”
“However, Aphrodite said that when the right time comes, I could finally reveal myself. This is it: the right time. We’re finally together and I’m pleased to see the woman you are today. I’m very proud and I know that your parents are proud too.” Gaia smiled.
“I’m a descendant of yours? Is that why The Violent Swine was told to kill me?”
“Yes. Ouranos wasn’t happy when he found out that I created you. To get your attention, he killed your parents. When that happened, I was crestfallen and the skies cried.” Gaia frowned. “You don’t need to worry about them. They’re okay and they’re up in heaven, watching you.”
“Does this mean I have to stay here with you?” Y/N asked. She wasn’t ready to live alone in Greece. She wasn’t ready to leave her life in New York.
“That is your decision to make, my sweet. If you feel that living here will be best for you, then stay. If you want to go back with the funny looking people you arrived with, then go. I won’t be stopping you. I’m on your side; always. Don’t ever forget that.” Gaia smiled sweetly.
“Will I ever see you again?” Y/N asked shyly. “I, uh, I need someone to help me with my powers.”
“Do you know what you can do?” Gaia asked curiously.
“I can see memories, I can manipulate all the elements, and I can stop time.” Y/N answered proudly. Gaia nodded, “You’re right. You do need help. You haven’t discovered the rest of your powers yet.”
“The rest of my powers?! I have more?!” Y/N’s eyes grew wide and Gaia chuckled. The goddess looked up and she looked as if she’s trying to listen to something. She looked at Y/N and said, “They are looking for you.”
“Okay, but where can I find you?” Y/N asked as Gaia returned to her place.
“I’m the goddess of Earth, darling. You can summon me anywhere.” Gaia winked. “Now, go. They’re worried. I’ll see you very soon, παιδί μου (paidí mou; my child).”
Y/N watched as Gaia turned into a statue again before running out of the garden to find the avengers. She ran and ran until she saw the avengers. Peter saw her first and he met her halfway.
“Are you okay?” He asked, his eyes filled with worry.
“I’m more than okay.” She smiled before moving closer to whisper, “I think I just met a goddess and I know where my powers come from now.”
Peter’s jaw dropped and his eyes widened in shock, “That’s so cool! You have to tell me all about it.”
“I’ll tell you on our way home. Now, let’s go.” Y/N chuckled before walking away with Peter trailing behind her.
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meyeselph · 3 years
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Gwenpool: Desperate Misanthrope's Confused Angst
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Showtime
Ms. Pool woke up in a familiar room. Not in Krakoa - there are no mutants around. This isn’t a story about that. Look, honestly, without an actual Gwenpool series and the constant breaks in her comics appearance I can’t even begin to give a fuck. I cancelled my marvel universe subbie. I might get back to my stories but single issues are iffy. I read fast and don’t pore over the artwork. So I get 10 minutes of entertainment for….FIVE DOLLARS? When did this happen? Jeezus.
Who even reads comics anymore?
Anyway, long story short, Gwen got out of bed and recognized the room as her old one from the “old times.” The dark times. The ‘not running around in pink and white outfits and shooting people’ times. She panicked (Been there. It is what it is though). The only way out of trauma is through.
She dressed in old clothes, immediately hit by old smells, she couldn’t help but cry. Was it all a dream? Have I gone insane (again)? All the usual self doubts cropped up. I mean, really, if you think this kind of thing didn’t pass through her mind regularly why don’t you transport yourself to a comic book universe?
Oh, you can’t?
Oh. It isn’t actually possible for you and I’m stupid for suggesting it. So, yeah. If it actually happened and you kept that attitude then the logical assumption for a normie is a mental breakdown. Trick for Gwen, though, is it's probably always been both real and her being nuts.
So she goes downstairs to the kitchen to figure out why this is happening and Evil Gwen is having cereal. Let's say cocoa puffs. I’ve been thinking about those recently. You ever remember cereal as something worth cherishing. Not as just bullshit that TV convinced you to want? God damn, now I want Cookie Crisp. Cookie Crisp wasn’t even ever that good. Why do I want Cookie Crisp?
So also sitting around the table were the faceless versions of her father, mother, and her brother. Just chilling. No BD. Seen Eternal Sunshine of The Spotless Mind?
Yes, I know that references aren’t jokes - fuck you, I’m painting a picture and I CAN’T PAINT, THAT’S WHY THIS ISN’T A COMIC. Fucks sake. Anyway. So, Gwen is so creeped out that she just sits her butt down by Evil Gwen as if she’s the comforting presence here.
Her name’s too long. Let’s call Evil Gwen uh…….Gren. You know, like Grendel from Beowulf. I haven’t actually read Beowulf and this is all a little confusing but I'm solving problems here. Writing this is harder for me than you would think so it’s best to keep things flowing off the cuff. That’s the Gwenpool™ style anyway, isn’t it? Are you laughing yet? IMPROV. “YES AND” MY SHIT, READER!
“So, you ever really look into the retconned past thing, hun?” Gren said, moving her tongue around her food. Being gross as an attempt to be properly evil. She swallowed before continuing. “This is all I could really put together on short notice but i’m pretty sure what the future people created, all that stuff to try and trick you, it was all bullshit.”
“What do you mean? Are you trying to convince me to go all psycho like you again?” Gwen asked, exasperated, realizing she was now back in the whole ‘fuck with Gwen to decide her fate’ song and dance routine from the end of her first arc.
“Nah, not really.” Gren said. A hammer appeared in her hands out of nowhere and Gren swung it into their fake father’s head, snapping his neck..
“DAD!” Gwen instinctively cried as she saw her father’s body slump to the floor. Gren slapped Gwen’s face. “That’s it,” Gren said, “this is what the trick was.This is a poorly created character in a fictional story. Meant to manipulate you into attaching your concept of “father” to it. Even his finished version in the original comics run wasn’t THAT well drawn. Your dad read like a boomer’s idea of a responsible parent. You were going through a mental crisis and struggling to find purpose in life and his genius idea was get a shitty low paying job and suck it up?”
Gren turned to their brother, pushed his face to the table and smashed the back of his skull. . “Brother dearest, too. Going right along with their victim blaming. He gaslighted you as if what you were going through was just you being ‘irresponsible.’ Bitch, people working a minimum wage job aren’t somehow not impoverished and miserable because they get some of that ‘honest work’ that folks keep badgering on about. Minimum wage work is occupied by many physically and mentally disabled people held hostage; they’re people society only pretends to care about. Then they turn it all into you acting like some world ending threat. No questions about what drove you to the edge in the first place. You are just ‘unstable,’ so you’re just a problem to be solved. They say, ‘Let’s all solve this girl being upset and on edge by ruining her concept of self, reality, and memory.’ Brilliant!”
Gwen barely processed this in horror. Gren then slit the poor facsimile of their mother’s throat while continuing to rant, “You see people die all the time, Gwen. Half of the time you are doing the killing. You do it because it’s in a story. In a story the NPCs don’t matter and, after all, your original schtick in the story was to be kill-crazy. The non-marketable characters can be replaced or retconned at the stroke of the artist’s pen.” Gren leans forward as she pulls a Gwenpool mask over Gwens face. “Then the writers convince you that you have some middle class milk toast family and you take abuse and subsume your emotional needs because the problem MUST be you. You aren’t ‘normal’ so you have to be fixed.”
Gwen wiped her eyes over the mask and sighed. A bit of fire filled her gut as she stared at Gren. “So fucking what? You want me to go on a killing spree and be a big time villain to get myself a nice, shiny permanent big bad status? That’s how I stay around right? Just build my legacy on bodies?”
Gren scoffed “You already lost that fight, girly. Where do you think we are? Because this ain’t Marvel Comics.”
Confused, Gwen blinked and tried reaching for the page margins, finding nothing. Wait….why was everything on this page so ill defined and undetailed? Wait? Why was the story in kinda wobbly third person past tense?
Gwen sighed “Oh. I’m in a fanfic. I guess the publishing fight is for another day eh?”
“My advice, personally,” Gren stated, “is that you consider the lobster.”
“Wait, what the fuck?”
Gren pulled aside the kitchen curtains revealing the face of a giant lobster, its claws tapping on the glass. The lobster muttering gutterally about personal responsibility.
“Because there’s a couple thousand giant lobsters outside that would like to claw you until you read their book.”
--
Scared of Girls
On the rooftop, Gren shoved a high powered rifle into Gwen’s hands while she handled the close range threats. So, this conversation they’re about to have is important. Sniping puts Gwen into a sort of zen space, so that’s a better task to keep her focused, after all.
“So, what? You wanted me to internalize that my “origin story” is bullshit? Okay, what does that accomplish, then?” Gwen asked in a bit of a deadpan. She was so tired today. Not really feeling her happy go lucky energy. More like a “happy go fucky” energy. It was hard to always be on a knife's edge. Still the rifle’s kick into her shoulder was satisfying as she blew through two of the creepy looking lobsters at once. “Also, why the lobsters?”
Gren considered this. “Okay, last question first, I had to experiment a lot and do a lot of research to construct this place for your learning and healing in fanfic form....These buddies are a failed experiment of mine that I repurposed because the fic needed more action. Isn’t that right, giant enemy crap?” As she peppers the nearest goon with a hail of shotgun pellets the entire throng of them burst out, sharply muttering about divine symbols.
“As for what I'm trying to teach you, it’s that you aren’t reaching your potential.” Gren grumpily huffed.
“Duh,” Gwen reloads, “I mean you just killed a mannequin version of the voice in my head that says that to me every day.” one of those crustaceans talks about feminine symbolism while she decides on her next target.
“Not like fake daddy’s ‘Be a responsible member of society by paying your taxes’ type of potential. I mean your creative and emotional potential.” Gren flipped off the slavering throng of monsters, noticing they were starting to keep their distance from the roof.
“I never did finish that fanfic idea I had.” Gwen mused.
“God, don’t mention that,” Gren thrusts a finger at Gwenpool. “Not that I don’t respect fanfic, but when comic book writers make you and Kamala squee about fanfiction to try and relate to “the kids” it comes across as so condescending.”
“Really? I mean…..I'm sure it’s meant as support for the concept?”
“Most fucking superhero comics are just legalized fanfiction! The people who created the characters are either long gone or working on someone else’s characters! They just think they are so much better because they got fucking paid. They can’t imagine themselves as on the same playing field as fanficcers even though most of them have the same level of connection to the roots of the work as anyone else.” Gren groused loudly as she seemed to pull Reed Richards out of nowhere.
Confused, Reed looked around until his eyes met Gwen’s.“Oh great, you again.” Reed groaned as he turned to survey the piles of lobster gibs while Gwen cheered the lobster forces’ retreat with a resounding “EDF, EDF!”. The scattered creatures skittered amongst the bland scenery. It looked like a suburban neighborhood but someone forgot to color in the sky….or write that the sky had color. A castle hung out in the distance breaking up the generic normalcy and lay cloaked in shadow despite being surrounded by an endless white void.
“And…..black….you?” Reed pointed to Gren, raising an eyebrow.
“Yeah, I have an evil future self….well I stopped that future so it’s an….evil...alternate timeline self?” Gwen said with a nervous chuckle, abandoning the kill quest for the minute and rested her rifle on the roof.
“Ah. Yeah I’ve been down that road. It’s a rather common occurrence. Multiverse being what it is.” Reed laughed heartily while putting his hands on his hips.
“I’m not sure I’m evil, honestly,” Gren interjected. “I think I’m just really fucking grumpy and I’m slightly more gung-ho on the homicide. Considering Gwen’s already one of the more kill crazy characters on the roster it’s not that much of a distinction.” Gren flipped her cape. “My main distinction is I don’t like that meme from The Incredibles! You can just make it so the cape detaches automatically when it’s pulled hard enough!”
“You could still have it tangled up around your face.” Reed pointed out in his standard know-it-all fashion.
“Don’t make me go into fuck wife mode, stretch.” Gren spat. “Okay, anyway, so I brought him here to illustrate a point. Reed. Explain particle physics to me as a laymen.”
“Huh...i’m not sure why but okay. Particle physics (also known as high energy physics) is a branch of physics that studies the nature of the particles that constitute matter and radiation. Although the word particle can refer to various types of very small objects (e.g. protons, gas particles, or even household dust), particle physics usually investigates the irreducibly smallest detectable particles and the fundamental interactions necessary to explain their behaviour. In current understanding, these elementary particles are excitations of the quantum fields that also govern their interactions. The currently dominant theory explaining these fundamental particles and fields, along with their dynamics, is called the Standard Model. Thus, modern particle physics generally investigates the Standard Model and its various possible extensions, e.g. to the newest "known" particle, the Higgs boson, or even to the oldest known force field, gravity.” Reed rattled this off rather mechanically.
Gren then took out her phone and showed Gwen the Wikipedia article on “Particle Physics,” which is naturally the same words that Reed had regurgitated above, just without any formatting and, again, on a phone.
“Reed can’t be a genius in any subject unless he’s written by a genius in that subject. That’s how stories work. Everyone is limited by the understanding and capabilities of the writer. Same with your origin story and all the people you’ve interacted with. If you are as ‘meta’ as you think you are then you have to realize that you aren’t actually talking to people. You are talking to the writer. Dr. Strange didn’t rewrite your existence to be a part of the Marvel Universe. As far as most of Marvel continuity goes Dr. Strange was never there and doesn’t know or care about his MCU casting…..Hey Reed, buzz off please before the conversation pivots to why you haven’t cured all known diseases.”
Reed looked a little surprised but then pulled out a teleportation device (of course he has one) and blipped away with a shrug.
“How awkward is that going to be when he enters the MCU after Kamala is already introduced with a very similar power set?” Gwen chuckled.
“Keep up the way you’ve been going and you’ll never see it. I’m not exactly expecting a young blonde girl casting call for Deadpool 3 and that’s your best bet.” Gren snarked. Gwen winced with a sigh.
“I don’t get what I'm doing wrong. I have a fanbase comparable to some of the characters that have already shown up but I can’t even get comics written about me most of the time. An MCU push seems unlikely. They would literally have to deal with completely recontextualizing my powers and gimmick”
“Let’s ask her what you should do.” Gren motioned her way to the suddenly appearing long hair future Gwen, looming over them like The Attack of the 50 foot Woman for some reason. Dwarfing the roof they are on. Let’s call her BIGwen!
--
Gold Guns Girls
As BIGwen acclimated to her surroundings she stubbed her toe on a car, dramatically flipping it so that it took out a few more lobsters before caving in a nearby house. The lamentations about clean rooms soaring as the remaining couple dozen of them attempt to clean up some of the bodies of their fallen kin. The large and sort-of-in-charge Gwen hissed in pain and adjusted her boot. Getting her balance as best as possible she muttered curses that traveled rather well considering the lung capacity of a giant.
“You know,” Gren started, “I wasn’t expecting much from our previous uses of the ‘make her big for emphasis’ trick, but it really does only work as a vague ghostly background element. I didn’t just want it to be ‘oh, here's a third Gwen for the conversation, though. Would lack umph.”
“ Yeah, I get it, but staring at my own giant taint is unsettling.” Gwen muttered.
“I’d still, hit it.” Gren grinned, then immediately got punched in the arm. “OWWW! Look, I’m the evil one here and we’re in a fanfic. I’m allowed to make internet fetish jokes.”
“And I’m allowed to hit you for it.”.
“Dirty lampshading goody two shoes. Don’t act like half your fanbase isn’t thirsty. It’s “insert current year argument”, all art is sexy to someone.” Gren complained back,rubbing her arm before hopping off the roof. Gwen followed while listening as patiently as she could considering how many changes in topic her evil-caped self is going through to get to her point. “This chick is the reason you’ve been on the path of good girl. Some vague idea that in the future everything will work out for the best. HEY, DOWN HERE, BIG SHOW!” Gren waved at BIGwen and she looked down curiously.
“Yeah what??” BIGwen responded in a booming and agitated tone. Honestly, being in this fic made every version of Gwen a little grumpy.
“How’s she supposed to be a popular hero that makes it into the MCU and has a stable publication history?” Gren asked.
“Fuck if I know.” Came BIGwen’s response. “Have you tried growing your hair out?”
“Rub it in,” Gwen muttered under her breath, “I’m not gonna lie, I’m kind of depressed now.” Gwen said as she sat on an abandoned car.
Gren hopped on the roof of the car, patting Gwen’s shoulder before squatting with enough force to flex the car’s shocks like a rocking chair just to amuse herself. “Future “good” Gwen wasn’t an actual plot point, it was a call to action to the fans to make fanfic like this and support the character outside of the actual Canon. Chris didn’t trust that Marvel would treat the character right. That, and your obsession with getting a new book, are both the writer’s attempt to turn a marketing tactic into fan engagement. If you want to be real then that makes the fans want you to be real even more, too.”
Gwen sighs heavily and leans her chin on one hand. “I mean...the time traveling through the life of an NPC fan complete with a Never Ending Story reference was a bit sappy even by the standard we sometimes set...damn it it really was just kind of a fan manipulation trick wasn’t it?”
BIGwen Sat down on the street next to them and crossed her legs. “Hey, little me. Don’t get too down. I mean it worked for the most part. You have a healthy cult following. Characters have survived on less and there are worse things to be known for then as a fan first character”
“But I have to fight for attention all the damn time, though. It’s so easy for Wade with his fucking meme bullshit. He even gets runoff enthusiasm from me. Jeff the land shark is all over Oldpool online” Gwen felt rather heavy and tired all of a sudden. Marvel editorial forcing a gun to your head is not a fun way to be.
“All that fight is hell on the fanbase too.” Gren sighed. “Advocating for shit, getting crumbs and being expected to accept it while Disney lavishes all the attention based on some bullshit numbers game. Even if you make it into the MCU will it be a Batroc style cameo with obligatory ‘killed off in case we don’t feel like paying the actor again later.’ Will it be an emotionally rounded character or an ambush bug style joke? The thing is. You're Not the one fighting and you never were.”
“The fuck do you mean?”
“This version of her doesn’t know?” BIGwen whimpered.
“You aren’t real, Gwen.”
--
Head Like a Haunted House
“No….we aren’t having this conversation. Fuck you fuck you i’m not a fucking Nihlist and i’m not going to do this right now.” Gwen said as she scrambled off of the car and pulled out some guns. BIGwen then picked her up off the ground.
“You need to hear this, Gwen,” BIGwen boomed. “The gimmick has run its course. It’s fucking with your canon. You’re never going to be a marketable character keeping up a half fourth-wall Kayfabe”
Gren climbed onto BIGwen’s Shoulders and perched over Gwen all menacing like. “You need to listen. I’ve been trying to ease you into this. Making things more meta slowly until you were ready but it was never going to be easy.”
One of Gwen’s guns was fired from it’s holster and pierced one of BIGwen’s fingers. BIGwen screamed and her grip loosened. Soon Gwen was on the move running up her arm and firing at Gren, who dodged like the nimble and cute badass she is. “Don’t do this Gwen. Just because it doesn’t matter to the comic version of you doesn’t mean it doesn’t matter.”
“I’m a real person god damn it! I read the comics out there! I came in! That’s why I know shit I shouldn't know. That’s what I am! THAT’S ALL I AM!” Gwen shrieked as she pulled out a sword from hammer-space and decapitated BIGwen. Suddenly a mess of colored streamers and a pile of Mickey Mouse merch tumbled out. Look, I am busy right now. Gwen is still slashing at my ass. I'm not going to explain it.
For some reason now the remaining lobsters were helping Gren. For Gwen’s own good you understand. This is proof that I’m right for some reason.
Gwen pulled out a revolver, firing pumpkin sized holes in lobsters who were still wailing about self actualization. She fully planned on shoving a sword up her evil self’s ass and getting rid of this doppelganger shit for good. Which is total bullshit by the way. She totally just cut off Gren’s leg because what the fuck you mean I’m not real? I’m going to be real all over your corpse.
Gren didn’t really think that was even a good comeback and also thought you should probably say it instead of meta willing the smack talk into existence, otherwise this fanfic is going to read like trash. Also, Gren’s leg wasn’t actually cut off. In a puff of smoke it is revealed that the cut off leg is a log and her leg is fine. Gren is a ninja now, believe it.
Gwen proceeded to do a sick ass CQC judo throw on Gren and then grab her cape and wrap it around her face like Reed suggested. Callbacks for the win! Callbacks to Checkov’s gun ideas always lead to victory in fights! She then totally shot at her and such.
But the bullet was caught by the cape because the cape was a symbiote! That’s right Gren is also GRENOM!...boy that sounds stupid. Anywho, the cape was no longer around her face and the fight continued and Gren now ALSO had extra powers and special wizard-symbiote armor (that would only show up in the MCU version if Marvel finally got the Sony characters back). The meta powers work like shit in text but this would be really good in CGI or animation if Marvel wanted to adapt this fic and give the writer lots of money. Gren still has more experience with them, though, and Gwen can’t really just kill her way out of this fic so she has to just let the story play out.
…...eh?....oh Gwen’s crying. I love/am you girl but we gotta work on the crying. Fucks sake this is harder than I thought. I’m depressed now too. Well I'll try to get the writing back on track so you guys can see what is going on. Even the lobsters are minding their manners now. Chill vibes, guys.
“The marvel character page for Gwenpool says, and I quote:
Gwenpool arrived in the Marvel Universe from the “real world,” but has wasted no time in making the most of her time in her fictional universe. Using her knowledge of comics to her advantage, Gwenpool causes and solves problems for her fellow heroes.”
Gren drags a lobster corpse slowly toward Gwen and sits on its tail as she talks to her. Taking her time to really scrape the lobster against the ground, smearing the gore on the pavement. Not that it was heavy for her or anything. Totally still has that symbiote, which would make moving it easy. Totally wasn’t a detail added in the second revision of the fic slightly before the lobsters were added.
“The words “Real world” are in quotation marks in that wiki. Real people don’t make it into comics because fiction isn’t real. Half of your versions barely make use of the ‘real person’ gimmick because it’s too meta by half and not every writer wants to waste time justifying it. So they just treat it like Deadpool’s medium awareness. Which it mostly is.”
“I really am just a fucking rip off distaff character.” Gwen moans. “Just a Gwen combined with a Pool. I’m worse than the Batman who laughs. I never mattered because I was never real”
“Fuck don’t say that. You were made with love and care by a team of creators who took a weird offshoot idea and built out a compelling metafiction idea and a likeable protagonist off of it. They just didn’t have the time and foresight to go far enough.” Gren sighed.
“Far enough?” Gwen sniffed as she was pulled up to her feet and dragged toward one of the big castles. As they walked Gren kicked along a Mickey Mouse doll that had rolled out of BIGwen’s severed head. Every time it bounced it cheerfully said ‘hahah. I love you!’
“Too much haha, not enough trauma. You’re not just a joke character.” Gren said as she kicked the Mickey doll into the big front door of the castle. The shadowy thing of course lighting up and being all fantasy and shit as the door opened.
“Well I did end both of my comic runs pretty mopey.”
“Damn right you did. When the jokes run thin they run to your real bread and butter. You’re an empathy machine.” As Gren shoves Gwen through the gate they are swallowed up in the castle, going dark again. “Let’s getcha sad clown on.”
--
Never there
“See, what evil me should have been telling you about in the original run is how to find meaning and purpose when technically nothing means anything. Comic book characters live in a world without real death and suffering. It’s all a puppet show version of real pain and real emotion meant to bring that out of an audience.” Gren opined as they walked through a black void to a couch floating in a nothing area lit only by the static of an old TV.
“Can we turn on a light?” Gwen asked as she sat on the couch. Gren sat on another recliner that suddenly appeared and put her feet up.
“Fuck off. Ambiance is a thing. We aren’t having a ‘lights on with something fun on the TV’ conversation. So look, I am not really ‘evil gwen.’ I’m half an author insert and half a plot device. If we are talking about the reality of the story you are basically talking to yourself. I am speaking about the things you don’t want to admit to yourself. You know, you’ve seen this kind of story sorta... right?” Gren picked up the remote and frustratedly changed channels between a bunch of vaguely illustrative footage on the TV, not finding anything that worked. A lot of black and white footage of trains for some reason. Just what comes to mind when I think of documentary footage? Weird.
“I am not sure how to illustrate this shit visually and this is a text story anyway so I would have to explain the illustration,” Gren griped.
“I basically get it. It’s not that uncommon a trope.” Gwen nodded.
“Because of the level of meta we are on right now we have to really acknowledge that you are basically an author insert, too. I mean, to a certain extent every version of you is more the writer that is working with your character at the time than a set character.” Gren said as she settled on a visual of Gwen being pushed out the window by her own narration text in the original comic run. When all else fails, resort to footage from the last story. That way people can look it up online!
“Right here is where the character crystallized in the mind of the author of the current fic we are in. A vague suicide metaphor wrapped up in the flavor of self destructive escapism. Your parents in the story thought it was a suicide attempt on at least some level. This is serious business. Not just a girl who doesn’t like work and can’t finish her fanfic. In this comic you are built on this understanding. The writer of this fic has ADHD and autism. So his version of you more or less has it, too. Writers bring themselves with them into their work.”
Gwen nods and takes a deep breath. “I….I can feel it. Like the world is closing around you. You aren’t built for anything that anyone wants from you. The one thing you really believe in, the one thing that really defines you, the stories in your head…..it’s just not enough.
You can’t trust you’ll ever make it with writing because you can barely write. You barely have the energy to do anything but wish that you weren’t you. What if someone actually listened? Actually believed in you and whisked you away somewhere else where the world would fit your needs? What if you were someplace you could be someone else, someone strong and confident?”
“Yeah. Like a funny anti hero in a comic for instance.” Gren nodded. “But the original comics sort of left the theme on the table. They were captured by the misconception of Gwen as the problem and not a person who needed help. All that desperation that real fans of the character might feel just bundled up into love for this character that really ‘gets’ them but Marvel doesn’t ‘get’ the character. They won't use her. They won’t go past vaguely gesturing at her mental issues and moving on. They saved the angst for Wandavision.” Gren scoffs.
“I mean the show was okay but they literally have a character built entirely on the theme of escapism and trauma. One that’s custom built for mind-screw visuals and reality bending plots and they think she’s just a lazy fangirl who really likes guns that they can sit beside Deadpool sometimes and stick in the X-Men’s bloated background character roster when they don’t need her.”
Gren leads Gwen off the couch and deeper into the void where a door to a bedroom waits. A room like her own, absolutely slopping over with old toys of comic book characters. An unclean messy space in a run-down house that smells faintly of cigarette smoke. Huddled in bed, reading an 80s era X-men comic with a flashlight, is a 12 year old Gwen.
“This is never going to be canon but this is the version of Gwen in this fic. She can’t stop crying at school. Things that shouldn’t be hard are so hard and she can’t explain why. Everyone says she’s making excuses. Meanwhile her mother is fucked out of her mind on pain killers and her step father killed himself last year ‘cleaning his gun’ while drunk. You know exactly what is on her mind right now?” Gren says as she gestures at the girl.
“I wish the superheroes would save me from this.”
“They won’t. They can’t. They were never meant to.” Gren Slams the door loudly on the scene.
“That is the emotional core of Gwenpool in this fic. The desperation that so many of the fans down here in the fucking muck of the real world feel. Poor and emotionally unfulfilled. Confused and vulnerable. If Disney and Marvel gave two fucking shits about people like that they wouldn’t waste as many stories as they do. They wouldn’t just use untold wealth to make expensive escapist stories with the military. Their gestures toward progressive ideas that they occasionally make in their stories would be THE ENTIRE POINT of their stories and the actual thing they used that money for instead of lobbying the government to keep Mickey Mouse out of the public domain.
“Disney has the power yet they save a fucking miniscule fraction of who they could. Saving people doesn’t make money.”
--
When I Get To The Green Building
Gren stormed through the void. The scene disintegrated around her as Gwen followed. Both now in a bit of a sour mood but with newfound determination.
“Come to think of it. Why is the fucking Hulk getting to fight for social justice in the comics? Why are they making a gay alternate universe Captain America? Why are they grasping at straws so hard to find characters that get to advocate and I am just sitting on a fucking island being grumpy?” Gwen groused. “I’m pretty sure I’m pansexual….at least in this fic. I could advocate for a bunch of shit at once.”
“You have a youth fanbase, a unique story and you technically aren’t an alternate universe version of fucking anything no matter how many people still think you are a Stacey. They made a fucking ‘for the fans’ character and then neglected it. Presumably because some fucking money making metric didn’t pan out despite the comics just being an MCU test kitchen and IP farm anyway.”
“You’re a fucking check mark on a ledger. I don’t even know if anyone technically created Gwenpool as a whole and Disney/Marvel can give the character to whoever they want to do whatever they want completely separate from what the fanbase wants and needs because she isn’t established. The IP landlords have spoken. The fans haven’t risen to enough ‘buy my merch’ calls to action to invest more resources. So tease endlessly until that changes.”
“Gah. Now I'm actually as pissed as you are.” Gwen said as she started fiddling with her guns. “Who do I kill?”
“We can’t do shit. You’re not even a character at this point. You are a meme for an underused character.” Gren smirked all evil like. “See but that’s it. You aren’t just a meme. You’re a MEME.”
“Uhm...I don't follow.”
“Like the concept of Justice. Gwenpool is an idea. Defined entirely by how people who engage with the idea choose to engage with it. The IP law means Disney owns Gwenpool but they don’t own how Gwenpool is perceived. Just like we as a people decide what justice is through popular consent we also decide what Gwenpool is. You see they made a character for the fans…..in my opinion that means the fans can do as they like with it even if it makes Disney uncomfortable.”
“I mean they can’t even stop porn of their characters just because of the sheer volume of the problem. I suppose people could do whatever.” Gwen nodded.
“Exactly. So the fans should just fucking Occupy Gwenpool!” Gren said as she flipped her cape dramatically with a mad smile on her face. That’s right. She was Dirtbag Leftist Gwen all along!
“Squat on that IP. Make Gwenpool a mental health advocate. Make her an LGBTQ activist. Make her fight for social and financial justice so hard that Bruce Banner looks like a poser. Make her talk shit about politicians who put their career ahead of the people. Do all the shit that makes the comicsgate crowd sad. Keep politics in our stories! Rally around that pink and white ass so hard they have to notice and then tie it all to the fact that Disney has great power and with great power they take no responsibility for how shitty the world is.”
“ If they are going to fuck Gwenpool fans they gotta learn Gwenpool fans fuck back. We have already proven we can make all kinds of cool shit. Let’s get serious and make more, harder, faster! Get a hashtag or some shit. They can't DMCA all of us! GWEN IS OURS WE JUST HAVE TO REACH OUT AND TAKE IT. Then they either respect the character and her fans or they just hit a PR disaster.”
“Marvel/Disney neglects fan focused cult character themed protest movements. Proves they are only progressive when it makes them money. They’re so worried about Mickey ending up in the public domain? We’re the public domain! After our entire lives stannin their characters and buyin their merch building them from an animation house into a juggernaut they are just another weight on top of the boot on our necks. They have to take responsibility!” At this point Gren is pretty much ranting maniacally and neglecting the actual writing of the story so this is Gwen taking over to wrap up.
Guys I may not be ‘the real Gwen’ but really, isn’t the version of Gwen that actually came from the real world all of us? Isn’t Gwenpool really the Gwens we made along the way? We could easily bring a little heroism and chaos to the real world (at least to the internet) if we really tried. Put the fear of God into some IP landlords and fight for some cool people that society is screwing over, too.
Prove that even in the fandom abyss people aren’t as powerless as they seem. Use that internet comic fan mobbing for something besides giving Zack more money. Disney is gearing up for their next IP fight for Mickey in 2024. Seems like a fine time for IP themed protests. For now we just need to spread the word that our needs are more important than their profits.
It’s been real. It’s been long. It’s been a real long time coming…..
But I finally finished my fanfic.
See ya, true believers.
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hopesbarnes · 4 years
Text
Right In Front Of Me
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Pairing: Wanda Maximoff x Reader
Summary: Wanda’s your best friend. The only person who knows you completely. So if she’s your friend, why does her going on a date bother you so much?
Warnings: None 
A/N: 1. men ain't shit so here's a wlw fic. 2. I am 100% up to write a second part to this if you guys are interested?
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Parents call their kids special every day. It’s nothing new. Moms and Dads all over the world think their kid is unique and that they’re different from every other child out there. Your parents though? They were spot on. You were special, and not in the way they led you to believe.
You first learned about your powers when you were 13 years old. One minute you’re eating dinner with your parents. Discussing math tests over spaghetti. Then you felt a rush of warmth and suddenly they were eating with famous singer Stevie Nicks. (Who you had just been listening to prior to the meal). It didn’t take long for the lot of you to realize that by special, it meant mutant. Somehow, someway you were born with the ability to shapeshift. If you can picture the person, you can become that person. DNA and all. 
For the next four years, you felt alone. You learned to control your ability, and not just shapeshift all the time. But you still couldn’t let anyone get close to you. They could find out and put you in harm’s way. So no friends, or boyfriends. Just you and your parents. And you got used to being lonely. It was what was best.
Until one day when you were 17, and Tony Stark appeared at your door with an offer to become an Avenger. You had no idea how he knew, but if he could find out so could someone else. So after a quick conversation with your parents, you packed up and moved to New York to live with actual superheroes. 
It was then you met Wanda. A gorgeous girl your age, who dressed witchily and was a mutant. Just like you. She was the first person to understand what it was like. To fear what you were capable of, and to know what it’s like to hide yourself to save face. It was almost instantly the pair of you became friends. You even moved into the room beside hers and spent every possible moment you could with the girl.
Shopping trips were common (avenger’s got a nice stipend, and you had no bills), movie nights were mandatory, and just grabbing lunch dates was common between the two of you. You were attached at the hip and finally felt like you had someone in your life you could trust.
Until today.
Wanda came into your room bubbly as always and announced, “I have a date.” Suddenly it wasn’t such a good day and you didn’t know why. All your energy immediately drained and your stomach felt tight. 
“With who?” you asked walking towards your connected bathroom to avoid facing her.
“Vision! He asked me to dinner,” she yelled laying back on your bed. You could hear her sigh happily. 
“That’s exciting,” you say with forced enthusiasm. Why was this bothering you so much? You should be happy your friend has a date. 
“You’ll help me get ready, won’t you?” she asks as you leave the bathroom.
“That’s what best friends are for,” you reply sincerely. 
“Thank you!” she says and kisses your cheek before running out of the room. You move your hand to where her lips met your skin. Huh.
A few days later you were over Peter’s house to help with homework. You met him through Tony and became friends. He was the person you felt closest to after Wanda. And he was close to your age. 
You’d spent the last few days confused, angry, and in a funk and everyone let you. The adults of the tower just thought it was teenage angst. But Peter called you out on it.
“Are you okay, Y/N?” he asks between calculus questions.
“Yup totally fine!” you say half paying attention to him.
“Hey,” he says closing the textbook and looking at you. “You know you can talk to me.”
“I don’t know what’s wrong!” you sigh dramatically, “Wanda said she had a date and now I’m completely off. That’s weird right?” you ask ashamed. You should be happy for your friend.
“Can I ask a question?” he says and you smile back at him.
“Always”
“Do you think you have feelings for Wanda?” he says quietly.
“No,” you say unconvincingly, “No!” you repeat. “She’s my best friend. We hang out a lot, but it’s because we’re close. And I mean it’s normal to think she’s cute right? Anyone can see she’s attractive. Her soft skin, and pretty lips. Visions lucky really. She’s a great girl.”
Then after a moment, your eyes go wide and you turn to Peter.
In a really soft whisper, you say, “I think I’m in love with Wanda. And gay.”
“Woah,” is Peter’s response.
“Woah,” you confirm. You’re crying now and Peter pulls you in tight. 
“It’s gonna be okay. You’re going to be okay,” he says and kisses the top of your head while holding you as you cry.
After crying, you were pretty tired and sent Tony a text letting him know you were spending the night at Peter’s. He was fine with it and after Peter explained to Aunt May that you were having a bit of a gay awakening. She brought in a plate of Oreos and told you she loved you before letting the two of you watch a movie in peace. 
The next day after school you headed back to the tower to find Wanda getting ready for her date with Vision. She asked you to help do her hair, and you did while the two of you chatted about things. But as you braided her long hair you realized you really and truly were in love with her. You wanted to kiss her and hold her and date her. But she was going out with Vision, so you put that part down deep inside you and tried your best to be happy for her. 
“I’ll see you later!” she says as she grabs her purse and heads to the door.
“Have fun!” you tell her and head back to your room.
You grab the book your reading and decide to just immerse yourself into it rather than let your brain wander. Until two hours later a visually distressed Wanda opens your door.
“I thought you were on a date?” you ask and she tugs her hair out of the braid you did. She walks over to your mirror and groans at her mascara tears. “Wanda?” you ask getting up to go see what happened.
“So,” she says drawing out the oh sound. “It turns out I am in love with you.” 
“Wait WHAT?” you ask and she laughs at your shocked face.
“It took me on a date with a non-human man to realize that I’ve been in love with my best friend for a while,” she says laughing hysterically. 
“I love you too,” you rush out then put your hand over your mouth.
“You do?” she says and giggles. “What a mess we are.”
“You,” you say laughing, “Need to start your story from the top.”
“I do don’t I?” she says smiling. She grabs your arm and the two of you sit on the bed sitting with your legs crisscrossed and knees touching.
“Well,” she starts, “I was on the date with Vis. And he took me to the zoo, and it was nice. But apparently I kept talking about you. A lot. So much so in fact, he pointed it out. Said ‘You seem to talk about Y/N an abundant amount. It would seem you have feelings for her.’ Then it felt like a light bulb and I started crying and he brought me home, and I told him he’s sweet. But I can’t be with him.” 
You can’t help but have a smile across your face. On the one hand, it all feels fast. Realizing your feelings, realizing your identity, and learning she feels the same way. But on the other hand? This feels right. It feels like you always should’ve been together.
“I can’t believe this whole time you were right in front of me, and I didn’t see it,” she says and leans in closer to you. 
“You’re telling me. So, you’ll be my girlfriend now?” you ask.
“Of course dragoste,” she says and finally leans in close enough to meet her lips to yours. 
Her lips are soft and taste faintly of strawberries. Her eyes flutter close as soon as you reach a hand to brush her hair from her face, and you let yours close too. You need to savor the moment, although you’re sure there’s many more to come. Your other hand grips her waist as if telling her to stay. And she uses her hands to cup your face. The kiss lights fireworks inside you, and all you want to do is kiss her forever now. She moves softly against you and the two of you part ways and stares into each other’s eyes. 
“I love you,” she says again.
“I love you too,” you repeat once more. And you know you’ll be repeating these words to her millions more times.  
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ev-pierce-writes · 3 years
Text
Testing a Hypothesis
Pairing: Marcus Moreno (We Could Be Heroes) x Reader
Rating: Explicit
Word Count: 4.3K
Warnings: teasing, spanking, oral (f receiving), edging, p in v, unprotected sex, gendered language
Note: something about the perversion of having sex with a children’s movie character really grinds my gears. enjoy.
If you could go back in time to figure out exactly what choices you had made to lead to this moment, it would be hard to pinpoint exactly where you'd gone wrong. And yet here you were, dialing the number of one of the earth's greatest heroes, the leader of the Heroics, Marcus Moreno.
There was nothing untoward about this call. The kids you nannied had insisted upon it, wanting to set up a sleepover with Missy Moreno. You stared down at the business card he'd given you and hesitated, thinking about the events that had transpired that day.
Earlier, you had been waiting in the carpool line for school to be released. The two kids you nannied, Annabelle and Anthony, were in sixth grade. You had been picking them up from school for years now and had gotten in the habit of getting there early and sitting in your car, taking a quiet moment to yourself before the chaos that consisted of taking care of twins ensued.
But you were jolted from your relaxation time by a bump on the back of your car. Had someone just rear-ended you? Here in the carpool line? Looking in your rearview mirror, you saw a large figure emerge from a black car behind you. Yep, he'd rear-ended you. Begrudgingly, you stepped out of your car as well.
"Seriously?" you said. "How do you even manage this when the speed limit is zero?"
Instantly, you regretted the obvious annoyance in your voice. The man heading toward you was distressed and already apologizing profusely. If he hadn't been so handsome, you might have continued to berate him, but the kindness of the man's eyes and his unruly hair stopped you in your tracks.
"Did I dent it?" the man asked with worry. Looking at your bumper, there wasn't even a scratch. He hadn't been going that fast anyway.
"No, the car's fine. Don't worry about it," you said.
"Are you okay?" he asked, looking worriedly into your face. "I didn't scare you or anything?"
"Really, it's fine. No harm done," you assured him.
The man looked back at your bumper, analyzing it just to be sure. "Let me give you my number anyway, just in case. I'll cover any damage." He pulled a card from his back pocket and scrawled his number on the back before handing it to you.
Glancing at the card, you noticed the name. Marcus Moreno. Wasn't that...?
"You're that superhero aren't you? With the Heroics?"
Marcus laughed nervously. "Yeah, that's me. Apparently, I can wield swords but I can't drive a car."
"Don't worry, we all have our weaknesses," you said, partly trying to ease his concern and partly trying to tease him as well. "Your kid goes to school here?"
"Sixth grade. They grow up so fast. What about yours?"
"Not mine, actually. Just the nanny."
"I thought you looked a bit young," Marcus said with a lopsided grin. Was he flirting with you? You watched as he leaned against his own car, mirroring your movements. Oh yeah, definitely flirting.
"The job got me through college," you admitted, trying to hint that you might be younger but you were certainly still old enough for him. "But I liked it so much I stayed. Now I can't get away."
You did love your job, however challenging it was. Somewhere inside the school, the final bell rang, and moments later, kids came flooding out. Soon, you spotted Annabelle and Anthony and you waved, letting them know where you were. They headed over, chatting and laughing with another little girl. As they approached, she called out to Marcus, and you realized it was his daughter. What a coincidence.
"How was your day?" you asked the twins.
"Fine," they answered in unison, a typical answer for them. "Bye Missy," Annabelle said. "See you Monday."
Marcus turned toward you and stuck out his hand.
"It was nice meeting you," he said. "I'll see you around. And call me if you need anything." Though he meant the car, you thought he'd probably left the invitation open on purpose.
So here you were, standing in the kitchen, staring down at the phone number written on the back of Marcus Moreno's business card. Funny, a superhero with a business card who picks his kid up from school and rear-ends people in the parking lot. Not exactly what you'd expected.
At last, you dialed. After a few rings, a familiar voice answered. "Marcus Moreno speaking."
"Hey, it's Y/N. From the carpool line."
Marcus sounded genuinely happy to hear from you. "Something up with the car?"
"No, actually, the car is still undamaged." You could hear him snicker softly on the other end. You went on. "The kids wanted to have a sleepover and insisted I call you. I know it's sort of last minute, but it is Friday, so I thought it might be okay."
"I guess we could make it work. Give me a second." The other end went silent for a moment before his melodious voice returned. "Their place or mine?"
"Oh, well... I hadn't thought that far. I actually have weekends off, so I'm headed out at six tonight. But their parents will be home. I'm sure they won't mind."
"Sounds good, see you later." The line clicked and Marcus disconnected. Okay, then.
When six rolled around, you packed up your purse, placed dinner on the table, and then headed out the door, saying goodbye to the twins. Annabelle and Anthony's mother was already home and you were able to sneak out without too much commotion. As you closed the door behind you, Marcus's car pulled into the driveway, and both he and Missy stepped out.
"See you later, Dad," Missy said, giving him a kiss on the cheek before running into the house. The two of you were now alone in the driveway.
"Hey again," Marcus said, looking you up and down with a smile.
"Thanks for avoiding my car this time," you said with a laugh.
"Alright, alright, I get it. I'm a bad driver."
"Your words not mine."
It was Marcus's turn to laugh. He turned back toward his car but paused a moment as if he wanted to say something. "Got any weekend plans?"
You shrugged. Was he trying to gauge your availability? "Probably a glass of wine on the couch with this week's crime documentary."
"Would you like some company with that glass of wine?" Marcus asked. Your assumption had been right. When you hesitated, Marcus noticed your reluctance. "I'm sorry, that was a bit forward. I didn't mean to make you uncomfortable."
"You didn't," you replied, reassuringly. Fuck it, you thought, better to spend the weekend with someone than alone, again. "I think I'd like that."
---
Marcus picked you up. He actually drove to your house and picked you up, like this was a date. You'd agreed to go to a bar nearby, and though it was close enough for you to walk, he'd insisted your house was on the way and that he would drive you. You weren't sure how true that was, but you weren't going to deny a free ride.
"Don't crash," you joked. Sure, maybe you were taking this whole bad driver thing a bit too far, but it eased the tension and you liked making Marcus laugh. When you arrived at the bar, he led you to a back table. You noticed he sat with his back to the wall and kept an eye on the front door, real superhero style.
"What would you like?" he asked. You ordered a vodka cran to his whiskey.
"I've never been here before," you mentioned as you waited for your drinks.
Marcus shrugged. "Yeah, most people here tend to be on the older side."
"Oh come one, you can't be that old," you teased. Could he be? Marcus looked a bit sheepish. Maybe he was.
"Not old but... I'll be 46 in the spring."
"Oh, shit," you said involuntarily. Marcus huffed as if to say 'thanks, like I didn't know.'
"Sorry, I didn't mean that. It's just that- well, you're old enough to be my father."
"You wanna walk home?" he said jokingly. He was starting to ease more into the conversation and you thought he may actually enjoy all the teasing.
"It just means you're mature," you explained.
"Mature is code for old."
"Mature means I can have a real conversation with you and not feel like I'm talking to a teenager." You paused. You wanted to say more but were unsure of what his reaction might be. Fuck it, he was flirting. You knew what he wanted, but more importantly, you knew what you wanted. "Mature also means better in bed."
At your words, Marcus leaned forward on his elbows, swirling the ice around in this glass. "And you know this? Or it's what you believe?"
You weren't expecting that reply. But you liked it. "Just a hypothesis."
Marcus leaned back again. He didn't say anything, but the look in his eyes told you he was processing what you'd just told him. So you moved on with the conversation, asking him about Missy, about life as a superhero, about life in general. He was open and honest, willing to talk about pretty much anything, though you purposely steered clear of talk about his dead wife. It was no secret that he'd been married before, but something about the mood of the conversation led you to believe he was trying to forget about her.
Though it felt like no time at all, you suddenly realized how tired you actually were. It had been a long day, taking care of kids and running errands. Glancing at your watch, you realized it was almost midnight.
Marcus noticed your movement. "Want me to take you home?"
You hesitated. You were enjoying yourself, but you weren't sure how much longer you could stand the noise of the bar. So in the end, you relented.
As you pulled up to your apartment building, you didn't know what to say. Would he walk you to your door? Did you have the guts to ask? But Marcus killed the engine and gave you your answer. The two of you stood in silence outside your door as you fumbled for your keys. You wanted to say something, but what was there to say? Thanks so much for a wonderful evening. Thanks for flirting with me. No, no it wasn't right.
You managed to get the door open. Now or never. "Do you-"
"I should let you get some sleep," Marcus said, beating you to it. Was this goodnight? But he didn't turn to leave.
For the third time that night, you threw caution to the wind. "Remember my hypothesis?"
Marcus smiled, though unsure where this was going. "Of course."
"There's only one way to test a hypothesis, right?" You hoped he would understand.
And oh boy, did he understand. In two large steps, he was in front of you, taking your face in his hands. God, his hands. They were calloused but gentle and they tangled in your hair and left a searing heat on the back of your neck and--
Fuck. You hadn't even realized your eyes were closed until Marcus spoke. His lips were so close to yours, you could almost taste him, but he wasn't kissing you. Why wasn't he kissing you? 
"We should go inside," he whispered. His voice was suddenly raspier than it had been all evening, and though it was more of a suggestion than a request, you moved obediently, stepping backward as he moved forward, guiding you into the apartment. He slammed the door shut with his foot, hands still behind your head, and then finally, god damn it, finally, he kissed you.
His lips were decadently soft. At first, Marcus was gentle, easing you into an eternal kiss. But you wanted more. You wanted to be closer. Your fingers found the belt loops on the waistband of his jeans and you tugged his hips toward yours. He got the message loud and clear.
His lips began to move against yours, hot and needy, his tongue entering your mouth as you gasped for air. One hand left your hair to wrap around your waist, his fingers curling under the fabric of your shirt to lay flat against the skin of your back. They slid up the curve of your spine to the clasp of your bra and suddenly you felt the snap of elastic release against your skin. Had he just undone your bra one-handed? You didn't even have your shirt off and already he was unraveling you with his fingers.
There was too much fabric between you two. Marcus hadn't even taken off his leather jacket yet. You reached up to his shoulders, ready to slide it off for him when suddenly he pulled away and grabbed your hands. You looked up at him confused, wondering if maybe he wasn't ready for this yet.
"What's wrong?" you asked.
Marcus was breathing heavy, eyes dark with lust. "You wanted someone mature, right? You want mature sex?"
The force behind his words sent your insides tumbling. All you could do was nod, hands still unable to move, imprisoned by his own.
"Okay," he said, his voice deep and husky. "Stop me if you're uncomfortable. Do you understand?"
Again, you nodded.
"You're allowed to speak," Marcus teased. "But you need to do as I say."
Oh, fuck. A heat was building between your thighs. What had you gotten yourself into? Slowly, Marcus released your hands from his grip. He took his leather jacket off, himself, and then took a step back, instructing you through your next movements.
"Take off your shirt," Marcus said. His words were soft yet commanding.
Marcus watched as you pulled your shirt over your head. Your bra, which was already undone, went along with it. The air of your apartment wasn't particularly cold, but the shock of sudden exposure left goosebumps on your burning hot skin. You felt your nipples harden under his intense gaze but he didn't reach out to touch you.
"Turn around and take off your pants. Slowly."
He was enjoying himself too much. How had this sweet man, who had treated you so kindly and simply craved the presence of another human, turned so hot and rugged, wanting to tease you with the pain of slowing down. He knew you wanted nothing more than to touch him. And yet he made you wait and watched as you squirmed under his command.
And however painful it was, you did as you were told, unbuttoning your pants, hooking your thumbs into the waistband, and pulling them down slowly, slowly, slowly. You weren't sure if it was what he wanted, but you dragged your underwear down with them, fully revealing the curve of your hips and the contour of your ass. You leaned forward to push your pants down your thighs and past your knees, giving Marcus a full view of your now wet and throbbing pussy, and you heard the audible intake of a breath behind you.
"Fuck, you're beautiful," he said. Your breath hitched in your throat and your heart somehow beat faster than it already was. But it was nice to know you were having as much of an effect on him as he was on you.
Now fully naked, you stood, still turned away from him, unsure of what his next move might be. Without your attention on him, you finally noticed how dark it was in your apartment. You hadn't even turned on any lights, hadn't even moved out of the entryway. The only light came from the open curtains of your living room window where a street lamp cast an orange glow across the couch.
Suddenly, the sound of a slap and a sharp sting spread across the left cheek of your ass and you gasped. Did he just slap you on the butt? Holy shit. The warm tingle spread through your body and you nearly trembled at the feeling. Hold it together. You couldn't fall apart so soon.
Despite the slap, Marcus still held back from touching you, leaving you feeling exposed, nearly whimpering from the desire to be touched. Finally, he placed his hands on your shoulders and slid them down to your wrists, leaving fire in their wake. With one wrist in each hand, he folded your arms behind your back and held them there. The movement forced you to arch your back, thrusting your chest and hips out. It seemed a calculated move to provide him with more access to every curve of your body.
You could feel the heat of his body as he stepped closer, but it wasn't until he pressed his own body against your back that you noticed he was naked as well. With his free hand, he pulled your hair behind your ear to place hot, breathy kisses down your neck. Shivers ran down your spine and your legs trembled in desire. Your pussy was dripping with need, the moist heat beginning to drip down the inside of your thigh.
With all his teasing, a sudden thought popped into your head. You had to ask. He had said you could speak, right?
"Marcus?" You asked. He grunted in response, not moving his mouth from your neck but affirming that he was listening. It was getting hard to talk, but you continued anyway. "Do you- do you have super senses as well? Like hearing?"
"Baby, I can hear you breathe from a mile away."
Interesting. "So, what if I do this?" You turned your head toward his, still at your neck, placing your lips at his ear, and moaned softly. The hand gripping your arms tightened and a deep groan was thrust from Marcus's lips, sending his hot breath across your shoulder.
"You're teasing me now? Don't worry, for that little stunt I'll have you screaming so loud you won't need super senses to hear you from a mile away." Now it was your turn to groan in frustration. You strained against your captive arms, wanting to get at the man pressed behind you, but he was far too strong. At least he was finally touching you. His free hand slid across your stomach and up to your breasts, pinching and twisting each of your nipples until they were aching and tender. The moans he elicited from your mouth were no longer simply to tease; the pleasure was too much to contain. Suddenly, his fingers left your nipples and slid slowly south. You shook with anticipation as he crept towards the heat between your thighs. Gently, one finger teased the crease of your slit, working gradually toward the mound of your clit.
"Spread your legs," Marcus whispered into your ear. As soon as you did what you were told, his finger landed directly on your clit and you nearly jumped at the sensation. You wanted desperately to grab onto him, hold his hand in place, but you could do nothing more than moan in ecstasy as he worked lazily between your thighs. You were sure you could cum soon if he kept going, except he didn't. Marcus stopped, pulling his hand away, leaving you trembling and begging for more.
With a palm placed on the small of your back, he guided you forward, and you stumbled until you reached the couch. You thought he might sit you down, but instead, Marcus leaned you across the couch arm, face in the cushions, ass in the air. You still had no control over your arms, so you could do little about your situation.
"You want me to fuck you, baby?" You could feel Marcus pressed against your ass, his legs between yours, spreading them wider, his cock hard and ready. He was so close, so close to being inside you, and yet he wanted to tease you a bit longer. When your reply came only as a soft whimper from your lips, he leaned over you and ran a finger down your spine. "Answer me, baby."
"Yes, Marcus. Yes, fuck me please."
"Not yet."
Not yet? What did he mean not yet? You wanted to cry at how desperately you needed him inside you. Instead of giving you what you wanted, you suddenly felt his hot tongue dragging up your thigh. He moaned against your trembling skin, licking away the dripping heat that had spilled from your pussy. Slowly, he made his way to your core, taking his time to clean the inside of both of your thighs.
"Baby, you taste so good. You're such a good girl, all nice and wet for me." Good girl. Fuck. It felt so incredibly amazing, but it wasn't what you wanted, what you needed. You couldn't help yourself; you began to beg, beg for him to fuck you like he meant it, beg for him to bury himself inside you. He ignored your pleas and instead spread your pussy lips with his tongue, lapping up your juices like he was dying of thirst, holding your arms in place as you squirmed beneath him.
"That's it, baby girl, grind against my face." You didn't need to be told twice. The sensation was bringing you to the edge. The scruff on his face tickled against your thighs and you wanted desperately to clamp your legs down on his head, tip over the edge, and feel the release of your orgasm. But Marcus wouldn't let you. He held your legs open and continued his rampage as your gasps of pleasure escalated to moans.
"Marcus I- I'm gonna cum," you managed to say. But as soon as your words left your lips, you regretted them. Marcus pulled away, leaving your open and cold and teetering on the edge of ecstasy. You groaned in frustration again. "Please, Marcus, make me cum, I need to cum."
"I love hearing you beg," he said, placing kisses across your shoulder blades and down your back. You could feel him center his hips at your entrance, the tip of his cock just barely nudging into you. You tried to grind your hips against his, needing that sweet relief, but he held you in place with one hand. "I want to hear you scream my name."
He pulled back and then slammed into you, and you did. You screamed his name over and over, with every thrust, every time he hit your g-spot, every time he grunted and groaned with his own pleasure. You tried to press your face into the couch to mute the sound but he wouldn't let you, grabbing your hair in his free hand and pulling your head slightly back, so he could hear every delicious sound that fell from your lips. Your arms were still pinned behind your back, but it made the angle all the better. It wasn't long before his thrusts were pulling you back toward the edge, your walls clenching around his shaft. He felt the shift, felt your orgasm build in your core as he fucked you hard.
"Cum for me baby," he growled. "Be a good girl and cum, now." With his words and one final thrust, you did, shattering into a million pieces with the force of the orgasm that rocked your body. You screamed until your lungs gave out, until you could barely breathe. Though you hadn't been holding yourself up much, you fully collapsed now, the strength in your body gone. Marcus was still holding out, teetering on the edge as well but wanting to ride out every drop of your orgasm until nothing remained.
"Tell me where you want me to cum," he growled through his teeth, unable to hold on much longer.
You wanted him to cum inside you; you wanted to feel him drip out of you all night. So you told him.
"Are you sure?"
"Yes Marcus, cum inside me, please," you begged. He did love when you begged, after all.
He cursed your name and then came inside you, thrusting his hot seed deep in your cunt and filling you up. He collapsed on top of you, finally releasing your arms, needing both of his to hold himself above you. His throbbing cock remained inside you as he leaned over you and kissed your back, whispering your name in sweet euphoria. The two of you remained like that, warm bodies piled atop one another, for several minutes, heaving in and out to catch your breath.
Finally, he pulled out and stood, helping you up as well so you could sit on the arm of the couch he'd just fucked you over.
You realized that this was the first time you were actually seeing Marcus naked. He had taken you from behind the whole time, but now, you were finally able to place your hands on his smooth chest and wrap your legs around his waist. You pulled him into a kiss and then leaned back, falling backward onto the couch and taking him down with you. In this position, Marcus laid his head on your chest, easing deep into your arms as you stayed wrapped around him. It was a perfect feeling, fulfilling the skin-to-skin contact you knew you both desperately needed. For a moment, you were both quiet, listening to the steady rhythm of one another's breath. Marcus was the first to break the silence.
"So, was your hypothesis correct?"
You laughed. "So far, the evidence is compelling. I may need to conduct some more testing to know for sure, though."
"I think we can arrange that," he said with a smile.
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evermoreparker · 3 years
Text
You're Not The Only One
A/n: Hey :) so I'm not exactly new to tumblr, but new to posting what I write here. Hope you enjoy! 💖
Word count: 1,8k
Contains: a lot of angst, pop culture references, but I promise there's fluff in the end.
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Saying that you were in love with Peter Parker was an understatement, you were head over heels, all the cheesy songs you can name it, that was how you felt about him.
Letting your feelings aside for the nerdy boy was definetly one of the hardest things you went through in high school, seeing him getting his first kiss, first girlfriend, but no matter how smart he was, he couldn't see the way you were falling for him.
Now, in college, seeing Peter going on dates was one thing, but him asking if your friend was single? It hurt you like when One Direction went on hiatus.
"Hey y/n" he smiled, god you fucking loved and hated that smile, at the same time. How was it possible to get all giggly just thinking about the way he said your name?
"Hey Pete, what's up?" You said taking a sip of your drink and thinking about how easy it would be having someone like Peter by your side.
"Nothing much, can I ask you something?" Oh no, what did he do? Oh he looks definetly nervous, but also cute, the way he looks confused on why you are taking so long to answer, enough daydreaming from now on.
"Yeah sure" he looks around just to check if someone is around, did he kill someone? Well that would be kinda hard considering that he can't kill a spider, cause according to him that would be "killing his own kind", whatever that means, sometimes I think he's hiding something.
"Ok cool i-is y/f/n single?" Waitwaitwait, he's talking about another y/f/n, it's not your friend, chill.
"You mean my friend?" Now it was your time to be the oblivious one.
"I mean if you think it's weird it's ok, I don't mind, it's just that since I hooked you up with one of my friends one time, I was wondering if you could do the same?" Yeah, that shit hurt more than watching a great show but with one of the worst finales.
"Oh yeah, sure, and she's single, I'll talk to her later and then I text you." Peter hugged you so hard that you couldn't breathe properly, sometimes you wonder where all that strenght came from.
"Thank you so so much" he smiled "And btw, Brad's single again, if you want me to call him" Oh Brad, the same stupid guy who thought North Pole was an urban legend. But here's why you dated him for a while, Peter had a new girlfriend, and you were starting to feel left off, so you decided to take your shot and go on some dates. Brad was your middle school crush, and you kinda owned your 11 year old self, so when Peter told you about Brad being in town, you asked him to hook you both up.
Everything was great, until he would open his mouth. You really wanted to break up with him after your fourth date, but breaking up with someone on his birthday wouldn't be really nice, and then his family came to meet you, then the holidays, until you decided to tell him why you couldn't be with him, no matter how hard you tried, it was impossible to forget Peter Parker.
"Oh no I'm good, but thank you though." You smiled faking the whole thing, it gets easier with years pretending you are not madly in love with your best friend.
Needless to say your friend was confused as fuck when you asked her if she wanted to go out with Peter.
"Ok is this a prank? Is this a trap?" Y/f/n stopped watching her movie to turn around and look at you.
"It's not a prank, I'm ok with that, Peter asked and- doesn't matter, I want you to go, if you want to, of course" Getting out of her bed, she hugged you.
"Oh honey" oh no, not the pity voice. "I'm so sorry, I know how much you like him" you stopped hugging her before she realized you were almost crying on her shoulder.
"It's fine, really, it'd be good for me to move on, it's been way too long and you deserve someone like him" your friend looked surprised, not knowing if you were telling the truth since you were too busy staring at the white walls in her dorm room.
And pointless to say that you spent the night crying and watching Love, Rosie.
"Stupid fucking movie that shit doesn't happen in real life and everyone knows it!" Yelling at the top of your lungs to your laptop screen..
-------------------------------------------‐------
Peter kept telling all the jokes you told him, pretending that they were his, at least this way he could feel you closer to him. He wonders why you've been acting so strange lately.
And your friend keeps laughing, because alcohol has that affect on people, making you forget what you were worried about, making you say things you are not supposed to...
"So, Peter" y/f/n says while drinking her scotch neat "Are you sure y/n was ok with, you know, you asking me out?"
"Yeah she was super cool about it"
"Bet she lied." she mumbles while suddently finding incredibly interesting her glass, little did she know that the boy sitting next to her had enhanced hearing.
"Wha-why? Why would she lie?" Shock crossed Peter's face, almost as fast as realization hit him.
"I gotta go, I'm sorry" too early to swing with civilians around, too late to walk till your dorm room, so Peter decides to catch a cab. Wait could it be? No that would make no sense, why would you let him ask your friend out then? And before he can realize what he's about to do, he's already in campus searching for your dorm.
---------------------------------------------------
"NOT AGAIN gotta be kidding me, why do you keep chasing someone who doesn't want you?" Oh, ok, you get it, let's not yell to characters anymore.
Wiping your tears for the eleventh time that night, hearing a knock on your door. You decide to ignore, finishing How I met your mother was more important.
"Y/n it's Peter" oh no. Trying to brush your hair with your fingers so that you didn't look like a total mess to the cute guy you love, you open the door.
"Hey Pete, what's up?" You couldn't deny your puffy eyes but you can always blame it on rom coms. Peter felt like shit thinking about being the reason you had been crying all night. You wiped your eyes but the tears came anyway. Peter needed to ask you what was going on, but he also needed to be there as your friend. He opened his arms, and you fell into his embrace.
"You can let it out" he whispered while caressing your hair.
---------------------------------------------------
After what felt like hours, now sitting on your bed, you finally looked at Peter and was ready to ask why he left so early from his date, but almost like he could read your mind, he decided to ask first.
"Y/n?" You looked at his brown curls, wondering what was like to run your fingers through his hair.
"Yeah?"
"Hm d-do you like me? Like more than friends" Oh shit you're gonna kill y/f/n and her drunk-ass self.
"Whaat?" Your voice went high pitched. So many years lying to your parents but you can't do that to Peter, he knows you more than you know yourself.
"S-so you do like me?" It was his time to sound like he was going through puberty all over again.
Too embarrassed to say something, you just nod and get ready for the "I like you too, but just as a friend", instead you get a nervous Peter.
"Ok what I'm about to tell you is my biggest secret and you can't tell this to anyone"
"Peter I know you know all the choreographies from high school musical, I still accept you" putting your arm around his shoulders.
"I'm not talking about- wait how do you know that? Doesn't matter we'll get back to there later" he fidgets with his hands. "I'm spiderman" before you can interrupt him, he starts talking faster and faster. "I know it's gonna sound totally crazy, but I got bit by a spider at 15, and, well, that explains why I am more... muscular?" He cringes at his words but decides to go on "Also why I aciddently broke your sink while supporting my hand on it, and I can explain everything, I swear" Trying to understand while Peter talked at the speed of light , you finally had answers for what you were searching for.
"Ok... So it was a secret for a secret? Like you finding out about me having a crush on you since I was 14, so you tell me that you are a superhero??"
"Wait I'm not done yet" he takes another deep breath before singing rap god, again. "Being spiderman is extremely dangerous and I didn't want to put you in danger too, I love you too much for that." here it comes, as a friend. "Way more than a friend" before you can ask if Peter was joking, he continues. "And it's already too much that May knows, Ned knows, MJ knows, they are all in danger because of me" now it's Peter's turn to start crying. "I couldn't do the same with you, so I had to pretend I wasn't upset when you had your first kiss, and it wasn't with me, when you had your first boyfriend, all your firsts didn't have a different affect each time, all of them hurt like hell the same way" You are not the only one who's oblivious towards someone else's feelings, and I'm sorry for that, but the risk of putting you in danger, wouldn't let me do anything about the way I felt- I mean, feel about you. I lost way too many important people in my life, I couldn't bear losing you too." He sobbed while wiping his tears. "But now that I know you feel the same, suddently everything is worth fighting for. I love you so much, and- Peter's words were cut by your warm lips meeting his.
Time is relative. You never understood Einstein's theory, until now.
“Put your hand on a hot stove for a minute, and it seems like an hour. Sit with a pretty girl for an hour, and it seems like a minute. That's relativity.”
After what felt like a few seconds, but was actually hours, you both pull away with the biggest grin.
"Wanna go out sometime? I know spiderman." He whispers the last part while laughing at his own joke.
"Sure, can I bring Brad?" Peter gasps, pretending to be offended.
"How dare you? At least choose someone who knows geography."
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megthemewlingquim · 4 years
Note
  ❛   i want you. and the thought of anyone else having you is like a knife twist in my dark soul.   ❜   Bucky gets jealous of someone (Sam maybe) but he doesn't think he deserves the reader bc of his past? Followed by some very sweet smut?
Sugar, Sweetheart, Angel
Summary: Bucky can't help himself when it comes to you — especially when Sam's away with a girl.
Pairing: Bucky x Reader
Warnings: sweet... but not too explicit smut, multiple orgasms, unprotected sex, corny poetry about jealousy, Bucky being shy but very, very loving
A/N: Hi, loves! Happy Kinktober. This is my DAY ONE entry. I promise, I will get into more explicit smut as the month goes on.
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“Nah, go on, man. Have your fun.”
Mistake Number One.
He feels the regret immediately after the words slip out of his mouth, and it only worsens when he sees Sam go off with a girl — a dame — beside him. She’s beautiful, with chocolate skin and velvet eyes and long, braided hair.
But, in his lonesome state, he turns and sees you.
Dancing to the unrecognizable tune that’s pulsing through everyone at the club, lit up by neon purple, green and blue lights and a smile that literally glows in the dark.
Mistake Number Two. 
Because his eyes don’t leave your figure and his mouth doesn’t open and — of course — his pants have gotten much, much tighter. 
Hope rises within him, but it quickly fades.
You’ve been on Bucky’s mind for ages.
You started out as Sam’s friend, his partner in superhero work. No, you couldn’t fly or move things with your mind or control lightning and thunder, but you could hack into computers and software, and you could actually use a knife well. You met both Sam and Bucky after the war for the world, after he and Sam were dusted and you lost your boyfriend for five years. And of course, with no contact for that long, even if it’s not intentional, a relationship can crack and dissolve.
So you were a hardened, tough wreck, but one that was starting to pick up pieces and put yourself back together. You were starting to learn to love again, and to fight for what you loved and who you loved... which, when you started working with Sam, was only your family.
Bucky was completely awestruck when he saw you for the first time. He was reminded of all of the pretty dames from the 40′s, the ones with shorter hair and cherry red lipstick. You brought him back to his sergeant years....
And when you make eye contact with him for one, split second moment, even before his sergeant years.
And there he is.
The boy who grew up with very overprotective parents. The boy who was scared of growing up, the boy who was so shy around the fifth grade girls. And the sixth grade girls. And so on.
Bucky is transported back to those years, and all he can do is look at you.
You’re free, it seems. You’re liberated, you’re unhinged, as you dance and sway to the tune... which now seems to be a slower, more psychedelic song. (Sam taught him that word. Enter Pink Floyd.) Your arms lift and you look up, absolutely content and so in love with the music and the lights and...
Well, not with him. That’s for sure.
He sighs, going over to sit at a vacant table. It smells of beer, the aftermath of an arm wrestle from whoever sat there last. Lifting a hand up to scratch his stubble, he finally tears his eyes away from you; he does not want to seem creepy.
Mistake Number Three.
Because he does not see you come up to him, sit down on an empty chair beside him.
“See something you like, James?”
He shudders at the use of the name. Not that it’s a bad shudder — it’s just... it sounds lovely coming from your lips.
You must take it as a bad sign, because you look down at your shoes. “Sorry,” you mumble. “Sorry, Buck.”
His voice lifts a little. “No, sweetheart, it’s okay.” The term of endearment goes unnoticed by you. He’s used it with you so often, and even the first time you were numb to it. It fell on deaf ears, as it does now. “It’s okay. You can call me that... if you want to.”
He pauses. “I... I did see something I liked, by the way.”
“Oh, yeah?” Now it’s your voice that lifts. “And what was that?”
Either you’re really, really ignorant, or you’re doing it to be a tease and to piss him off. Bucky can’t tell.
“You.”
He says it bluntly. No hiding, no blushing, no nothing. Because he knows that you won’t think anything of it.
Not that you don’t like him back. You absolutely do. It’s just that you’ve been so hardened, so toughened, so numb to the fact that anyone might love you back, and Bucky knows it.
“Hm,” you mumble, “thank you.” It’s as sincere as you can make it sound, which isn’t very.
There’s an uncomfortable pause, one in which you’re both thinking the same thing.
“I want you,” he says, “and the thought of anyone else having you is like a knife twist in my dark soul.”
Every word from Bucky falls from his lips like weights. They drop, then they sit where they land. One lands on your shoe, the others land on the floor. He’s keeping eye contact with you, his gaze intense and... regretful? Introspective? Sincere? Sad?
You blink. And then you laugh.
Not at him, he quickly realizes.
“That’s some Billie Eilish type shit,” you giggle, “but that’s okay. I like her music... but hearing you say it is somehow much more corny.” You break off into more snickers. “I’m sorry, I’m sorry.” You do mean the apology.
He’s a little hurt, but he expected it. He accepts the apology wordlessly.
“I’m serious,” he says, and then you shut the hell up. “Completely serious.” He lifts his hand up and points his index finger at you. “You’re the one I want. Not Sam’s dame, not a girl I kissed in a hallway after knowing her for a month seventy years ago and never saw again.”
It’s a little insult to Steve, you remember. But then you remember what Steve actually did, and how he did it, and exactly who he left behind.
So this means something.
“I like you. I want you. And I love you, whether you know it or not.” He stops, leans in close so his lips are less than a centimeter from your ear, whispers the next part: “Whether you’ll accept it or not.”
His breath is hot on your neck, and he takes a warm hand in yours. It’s his flesh hand. Your heart is racing, and you note that Bucky can probably hear it. 
“Buck -” you stammer, “I — I don’t —”
“You don’t have to say yes, sugar,” he says nonchalantly, but with that sincere tone still lingering. “But you have to realize that some people actually do like you. Want you. Love you.”
He pulls back, his face so close to yours it’s almost claustrophobic for you. The tension in the room is overwhelming, and the air is stuffy and hot and you don’t know how to react to any of this.
“I do,” he continues, “even if that son of a bitch didn’t. You’d think that after five years of not seeing you, he’d come rushing back with flowers and chocolates and a weddin’ ring. You’d think that distance would make a relationship stronger, if it’s the right one.”
“He was dead,” you croak.
“So you thought. And what did he do? He left...Tell ya what, sweetheart,” he says, his tone lightening once again. “Why don’t you let me show you how I feel instead of telling you?”
His hand travels up your thigh and stays there.
“I’ve loved you for so long,” he whispers, “and you don’t know how long it’s taken me to actually say it. Because now you’re listening. Now you’re learning. Now, hopefully, you’ll begin to accept it.” He looks down, down at your lips, then back up to your eyes.
Then, suddenly, unexpectedly, he looks nervous. He stammers out the beginnings of words, never meeting your eyes. "Er — I don't — I don't deserve you. I really don't. You're an absolute angel compared to me. I've — I've killed people, I've done things that you'd recoil at.... I just hope that you come to realize that I love you. I adore you. And if something happened to you, I'd never forgive myself."
It takes a moment for you to collect your thoughts.
You shove them all aside and kiss him.
It’s gentle, and it’s warm and welcoming and it’s Bucky. He lightly takes a hold of your cheek and pulls you further in. The hand that was once on your thigh is now in your hair, at the very back of your head. His lips are soft, which is strange, because you know he used to bite and pick at them, especially when he was nervous... which was often.
You feel like you’re going to topple off of your chair, but if that happens, you won’t mind, because you have Bucky there to catch you.
“C’mon, let’s get out of here,” he says after pulling back, nudging his head at the exit. “My place.”
All you can do is nod your head.
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He cooks you dinner, the gentleman. It’s unexpected... you thought you’d just be a fling for tonight.
It’s chicken caprese - seasoned chicken breast with basil, mozzarella cheese, tomatoes and balsamic vinegar. A classic Italian dish, and a classic date night dish.
If you want to call this a date.
After you’re both done, he does the dishes. You both agree to brush your teeth and rinse with mouthwash.
He’s on you directly afterward, latching his lips onto yours in a frenzy. You ground yourself by gripping onto the bathroom counter with white knuckles. He towers over you now, leaning over you and surrounding you with his seemingly much larger form. You’re a small thing.
“Bed — ” he gasps. “Bed, now, please.”
He picks you up, hands on your ass, and you have no choice to wrap your legs around him and hold on. Somehow, you make your way into a bedroom.
He lays you down as if you could break if handled less carefully, and lays down beside you for a minute, doing nothing but taking in the sight of you all breathless and blushing.
He's never seen you blush before. It's a very pretty sight.
"You know," he says, "I haven't done this in forever: properly made love to a woman. But I want to do it right. I want to make you feel loved, sweetheart."
Loved. Not "good". Loved.
"Bucky, there's really no need." There you go again, denying it. It infuriates him and saddens him, but he only sighs.
"How bout this. How bout you... for an hour or so.. just forget about that sonofabitch that left you. Forget about the denial he gave you. And, just for an hour or two, maybe just try to accept the absolute fact that I want to treat you better than he did. Just because he left doesn't mean that I will."
You don't say anything.
"Do you trust me?" he asks rhetorically. "See, you really shouldn't, but you do. I often think, 'How the hell could anyone trust me?' but I accept that fact because you just do.
"That's how I feel with you. You don't think that people should be able to love you, but they do. I do. And I want to show you that.”
“You did make me dinner,” you say with a light smile, your stone exterior cracking a little.
He nods. “That’s one of the million things I’d do for you.” There’s a split second pause that does not prepare you for what he says next. 
“I’d marry you,” he says. Only then does he kiss you, when you’re too stunned to move. You kiss him back, your grip on him heavy this time. He notices, and he smiles.
Clothes are quickly discarded and hot, fast breaths are all you hear for a while. Bucky latches his lips onto your own lips, your neck, your jaw, wherever they can reach, and his hands do the same. 
But when you’re both naked, taking in the sight of each other, your breathing slows, and you both stop, let time pass before anything continues. He breathes out a question, one of consent, and you say yes.
Soft whispers and touches are what your senses take in. Bucky takes note of your every gasp, every whimper and every moan that you make, and remembers what to do to make you do it again.
For example, you like your left breast fondled more than your right. Your neck is a sensitive spot, especially right below your right earlobe. You really like it when he kisses your palms and your inner wrists. You do not like the idea of cunnilingus, unfortunately for Bucky, though you’ve never actually done it.
“Next time maybe we could try it,” he says.  Next time.
You notice, in a random moment, that he does everything with his flesh hand.
His fingers find your intimate parts, and explore there slowly, spreading your wetness all around and rubbing at your clit in slow circles. You don’t moan until the very end, where you’re almost ready to come. His eyes never leave yours, even when yours leave his in a rush of sudden bliss and a shuddered breath.
“Look at me,” he whispers. “I want to see you. I want to see you come.”
You gasp at that, throwing your head forward and looking at him with a look that can only be described as desperation.
“Come for me,” is all he says, a low whisper laced with lust. You clench around his fingers as you come, whining and gasping, and he touches your forehead with his as you’re lost in that wonderful feeling of ecstasy. He mumbles something under his breath, and your brain registers it a millisecond later:
“’Atta girl.”
At that, another rush of pleasure jolts through you and you shudder and twitch, your body becoming oversensitive. 
He doesn’t let you go down on him. Today, he says, is all about you, and you deserve all the loving he can give you today.
Which means he buries himself inside of you quite quickly, holding onto you with an iron grip. You’re on top of him, looking down at his sweaty, awestruck smile.
This is Bucky’s way of making love with you today: very deep, passionate strokes set to a faster rhythm than you thought he would go, but you don’t mind. In fact, you’re moaning almost as soon as you feel the first thrust, and your hair hangs a little in his face as you let your head fall closer to his. He wraps his arms around your torso, bringing you closer to him. So, his thrusts are more shallow but you can get all close with him.
You moan and sob, the wonderful feeling of warmth in your gut never leaving once but only growing. Bucky himself grunts as he thrusts, emitting a breathy chuckle once in a while when he notices how hard you’re gripping onto him.
There are no words here, only sounds and gestures. Enough words have been said.
Once you’re both satisfied and his seed starts to dry on your breasts, all you do is look at each other.
Two souls, two people, two broken hearts that have begun to mend.
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castieltheavengerr · 3 years
Text
Wormhole - Part 2
Series Masterlist
Synopsis: Y/N wakes up in a place she doesn’t know of, with a man claiming to be a god by her side. Superheroes don’t exist, right? In time, she finds out things about herself that she never knew before, and even gets to live with a hot guy, who also happens to be a crime fighting superhero. Will Y/N ever be able to go back home, or has she found it already?
Warnings: Mentions of a panic attack, swearing, allusions to a car crash, a beer bottle mentioned
Word Count: 2.5k
A/N: Oh my god i’m so sorry this took so long school has been super busy, i’m doing this with the little free time i have. anyway, here’s part 2 :)
You wait next to Thor in an open field. He mentioned something about some sort of guardians coming to pick him up, and he said that they’d likely bring you to America before they left. You’d asked who they are, where they’re from, but he wouldn’t tell you. It’s like he’s trying to surprise you.
Even though you still have almost no idea of what’s going on, you don’t want to leave Thor’s side. He was the first person you saw, he’s nice, and you trust him. Plus, he could easily protect you if it came to it. As you’re waiting, you hear a loud whooshing noise. Thor looks at you and smiles.
“Ah, that must be the morons. Up there,” he says, pointing to the sky. You expect a plane, but instead you’re met with a blue and orange craft that looks vaguely like it could have come from Star Wars. A large gust of wind hits you, and you fall on the ground. Thor laughs heartily, and starts to walk towards where the ship landed. You hop up, and apprehensively follow him. A ramp lowers to the ground from the ship, and the weirdest looking group of people and things walks out. Someone who you assume is human, dressed in a long red coat, a humanoid figure that is grey with red stripes, and the weirdest ones of all; a walking branch, who’s playing on a game console that looks similar to a Game Boy, another humanoid figure with antennae coming out of her head, and a fucking raccoon, who happens to be holding a gun.
They walk towards Thor, all smiling, except for the human, who looks a bit pissed off at the god. They then see you, sort of hiding behind Thor’s enormous body, and get confused. Then, the weirdest part of your day happens. The raccoon talks.
“Who the fuck is this, Thor? Did you find out you have a kid? That would be wonderful,” the raccoon says, looking you dead in the eye. You’re sure you look like an idiot, mouth open and eyes wide, but a fucking raccoon just talked to you. You think you have a right to be surprised. Thor laughs again.
“No, she isn’t my child. This is Y/N. We just have a bit of a problem, and I need to get her to America. I know some people who may be able to help her. Could you bring us there before we head out?” Thor asks, trying to be as vague as he can, which you are grateful for. Sure, they all look like freaks, but you sure as hell don’t want to be seen as one. The man in the red coat looks at you, seeming to consider it, before nodding his head.
“Yeah, sure, as long as it doesn’t take long. I don’t like this stupid planet, and want to get out of here as soon as possible.” You think, and consider the fact that given the looks of these people, and the weirdness of this new place, aliens are definitely real, so his words make sense. Thor smiles and claps his hands together.
“Great! Shall we be on our way then?” The group turns towards their ship and starts walking, and you and Thor follow suit. You walk inside the ship, and are disgusted by the nastiness of it. There’s garbage everywhere, and a T-shirt with some white subst- oh god. You just turn your head away, trying not to think about it. Thor turns to you and starts to introduce the Guardians. “That there is the captain, Peter Quill. He’s from Midgard, just like you,” he says, but then sees the look of confusion on your face. “Midgard is what we call Earth on Asgard, where I’m from.” You nod your head, just going along with it. “The rabbit there is Rocket,” Thor says, but then the raccoon pipes up.
“I’m not a rabbit asshole!” You just stare ahead, still not wanting to comprehend the fact that apparently raccoons can talk. Thor smiles and continues.
“Whatever you say rabbit. The tree over there is Groot.” The tree looks at you and waves, before it starts to talk. If you hadn’t already witnessed crazier things, you’d say you’d accidentally had some hallucinogenic drugs.
“I am Groot,” the tree says, and you nod slowly.
“I’m Y/N?” you apprehensively say, not sure how to respond. This time, it’s the raccoon that laughs.
“No, those are the only three words he can say. It takes a while to learn how to speak it.” You just give the raccoon, who you remember is Rocket, a small thumbs-up. Thor continues.
“The woman over there is Mantis,” he says, and she smiles sheepishly at you, her antennae bobbing up and down. You try to smile back, but you’re sure it comes out as a kind of grimace.
“And that over there is Drax.” The weird looking dude gives you a small wave, and turns back to whatever he was doing. You still have your arms crossed defensively over your chest, and as you take a look around, you get overwhelmed.
“Guess this is what I get for wishing for a more exciting life,” you think, regretting the thought even crossing your mind. Rocket walks over to you and pokes your leg.
“So what’s the deal here, huh Thor? Random chick that needs to get someplace? Seems fishy to me,” he says, giving you a side-eye. Thor looks over at you, as if asking for permission to tell them what he knows, and you give him a little nod.
“No, not at all. Y/N popped up in the middle of the street in New Asgard, not conscious, so I brought her to a bed. She woke up and freaked out, understandably so. She knows nothing about myself, the Avengers, or the Snap. She was afraid of me, and somehow sent a bottle at my head. I’ve called some old friends with SHIELD to help out,” Thor tells them, and they all eye you weirdly, especially at the whole ‘snap’ part.
The one named Peter shakes his head and waves his hands in front of himself. “Wait, you mean to tell me you don’t know about the Snap?” He gave you a look like you were the stupidest person in the world.
“Uh, well, if what you’re referring to is the fact that half of the fucking universe just turned to ash out of nowhere, then yeah, that never happened,” you defensively say, not wanting to deal with this douchebag’s shit. He raises his eyebrows at you.
“Aren’t you like, 10?” he says, mocking you. You give him the bird, and everyone else laughs.
“I’m 16, asshole,” you say, having heard that phrase one too many times. The Drax dude laughs loudly, and points at Peter.
“The small girl is feisty! I like her!” he loudly says, doubling over in laughter. You just scowl. Thor claps his hands, and tries to change the subject.
“Alright! Quill, how far away are we from the compound?” Thor asks in his booming voice. Peter walks over to the front of the ship to check something, at which point you realize that no one is flying the ship. You figure it must be on autopilot.
“We should be there in about 30 minutes,” Quill says, taking a seat. Thor smiles and claps your back a bit too hard, and you stumble forward. Before you can fall, he catches you by your shoulder, and pulls you back up. You turn to him, frowning. He smiles sheepishly.
“Sorry, I’m used to doing that with my friends. They’re quite built.” You let out a small smile, and move to sit on the floor. Thor moves to talk to the raccoon, and you’re left all alone. You put your head in your hands, wondering how this could have happened to you. Did you get teleported to an alternate universe, or did something else happen? A small sob escapes your mouth, and then when you feel a small hand on your back, you look up. The tree named Groot is standing next to you, giving you a small smile. You smile back, glad to have him care, even if he is just a branch.
“I am Groot,” he says, almost sympathetically. While you have no idea what he’s trying to say, you appreciate the gesture.
“Even though I have no idea what that means, thanks. I just don’t know what to do. Nothing makes sense, there’s gods now, and raccoons and trees can talk.” You put your head back in your hands, overwhelmed by the absurdity of it all. Then, you feel him poke your arm, you slowly look up, tears threatening to spill out of your eyes. Groot holds out his Game Boy to you. You reach out and gingerly take it, looking at the game he’s playing. It looks like a game your parents would have played when they were kids. It’s called Arcade Defender. You press a button, and the screen starts up. You smile and start shooting the fuck out of those aliens.
For the next thirty minutes, you and a talking tree sit next to each other, taking turns playing a game from the ‘80s, while riding in a spaceship with a literal god, a talking raccoon, two aliens, and an asshole human. You’re just actually starting to enjoy yourself when Thor walks over to you two, a smile on his face at seeing you having some form of fun.
“Sorry, Y/N, but we’re almost to the compound. It’s better to stand and hold something while landing,” he says, feeling bad to have to disrupt your enjoyment. You nod and stand up with Groot, and hand him the Game Boy. Just as you stand up, the ship moves considerably, and you nearly fall over, but Groot catches you.
“Thanks,” you say, smiling at the tree. You lean on the wall until the ship lands, trying your best not to fall. You notice Quill staring at you, a weird look on his face. He probably thinks you’re just an idiot for not knowing how to stand on a landing spaceship. Dick.
“Ok, everyone, we’re here,” Quill says. He looks over at you and Thor. “You guys can head on out, we’ll be here when you’re ready to leave, Thor.” All eyes turn to you, and you just want to shrivel up and die, but not before screaming, “I didn’t ask for this! I’m not some spectacle to look at! I’m a normal human being!” But you keep your mouth shut. You don’t want to draw any more attention to yourself that you already have.
Thor turns to you before walking towards the ramp, which has lowered itself to the ground. You follow him, wrapping your arms around your midsection. You slowly walk down the ramp, the sunlight blinding your eyes. You put your hand above them to be able to see, and are met with a sight to behold.
Before you stand two people, a man and a woman. The woman is normal enough looking, with her brown hair up in a bun. However, the man is the one that catches you off guard. He’s wearing a long black coat, almost like the one the Quill dude was wearing- actually, everything he’s wearing is black. He’s also wearing an eyepatch over his left eye.
“This the one Thor?” the man asks, with a voice deep and loud enough to make you jump. He eyes you quite aggressively, and you shrink into yourself.
“Yes, this is Y/N L/N. Thought it would be best to bring her to you since you have, ah, expertise in this area.”
The man side eyes you. “You could say that,” he says, looking you right in the eye. You shift your legs uncomfortably, not sure how to read this man. He clears his throat. “I’m Director Fury of the Strategic Homeland Intervention, Logistics and Enforcement Division, more commonly known as SHIELD,” he says to you in greeting, but does not extend his hand. “This is Agent Hill,” he says, gesturing towards the woman besides him. She gives you a tight lipped smile. “Ms. L/N, if you would follow me please,” Fury asks, but you don’t really think you have a choice. He and Hill start to walk towards the building, and you follow suit, but you notice a lack of presence beside you. You turn around, and notice Thor just standing there, not walking with you.
You stop, and look at him quizzically. He gives you a small smile.
“Aren’t you coming?” you ask, your voice coming out small and scared. Fury and Hill stop walking behind you. Thor shakes his head sadly, looking at you with something you can’t pinpoint in his eyes. Even though you may have only met a few hours ago, he’s the one person you trust (besides Groot), and he seems to have grown quite fond of you as well.
“I must attend to my duties with the Guardians. I really am sorry that I can’t stay with you Y/N, but I trust Fury and Hill very much. I have no doubt they will help you with your problems.” You know Thor truly means what he says, but you’re scared. You start to feel your lungs constrict, and it’s getting hard to breathe. You hear Thor trying to talk to you, but you can’t tell what he’s saying. Then you hear Fury’s booming voice yelling at you.
“Ms. L/N, you need to calm down. Please come with us,” he says, an edge of wariness in his voice. You shake your head, the world still spinning around you, your lungs betraying you. Why is he leaving you? You have no one left from your life, and now the one person whom you trust is leaving too?
You have no sense of your surroundings until you feel someone grab your wrist. However gently they grabbed it, you still freak out, and feel a wave of energy move through you. The next thing you know, you see Fury flying across the lawn, and Hill is yelling into something in her hand. Everyone is yelling and you can’t handle it. You start screaming yourself, sobs wracking your body.
You hear loud footsteps running towards you, and a hand grabs your upper arm harshly. You wrench yourself out of the iron grip, screaming at the person.
“Don’t touch me! Don’t fucking touch me!” you scream, and are vaguely aware of another large, muscled man flying through the air. Everyone is yelling, and you’re overwhelmed. You put your hands over your ears, wanting to block out the noise, but it does next to nothing. You continue to sob, your chest heaving from your hyperventilating and continued wails.
With everything going on around you, you fail to notice the bodies coming from behind you, grabbing your arms and shoulders stringently. You try to fight them off, but before the energy makes its way through you, you feel a blinding pain in the small of your back, concurrent with the loud sound of electricity crackling. You scream and fall to your knees, and the hands force you down. A sharp prick is felt on your neck, and even in seconds, you already feel yourself drifting away. The hands turn you over, and before you slip into unconsciousness, you hear Thor’s voice.
“I’m sorry, Y/N. You’ll be alright.”
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