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adelliet · 28 days ago

Text

Bob Reynolds x f!reader

I’VE GOT YOU

Summary: Bob was injured during the mission and you helped him to ease the pain, as every good girlfriend should.

Warnings: 18+ MDNI, nicknames (sweetheart, baby,…), getting caught, crying during intimacy, overstimulation, multiple orgasms, injury, fingering, handjob, unprotected sex (piv), kinda soft & dom, creampie

A/n: Hii! I hope you'll like this story/smut! If you have any ideas, suggestions, or anything else, feel free to text me. Also, I apologize for any grammar mistakes or phrases that might not make sense—English isn’t my first language :3 But I hope you enjoy the story! <3

Masterlist

By now, the team should have been back. The mission had ended hours ago, and at this point, they should’ve been crowding into the lounge of Stark Tower — laughing too loud, celebrating another successful operation, and raiding Tony’s minibar like they always did. That was tradition. That was how every mission ended.

But tonight, the lounge was silent and your nerves were beginning to spiral.

You hadn’t joined them this time. Not because you didn’t want to, but because it was your mother’s birthday. A rare family gathering, one you couldn’t skip, not even for a world-saving mission. This time, your family came first.

But it wasn’t easy. Because no matter how much you loved your family, this job… this job was your passion.

You loved the thrill, the fight, the fire in your veins as you went toe-to-toe with villains. The satisfaction of saving lives, protecting people, being someone the world looked up to. And the praise? The applause? The adoration? Yeah… that felt good, too. Especially when you had Bob by your side.

Bob had been your boyfriend for a few years now, and from the very beginning, there was something undeniable between you.

That first moment you met — it was electric. A kind of pull. Something you couldn’t name at the time, but felt deep in your chest. You didn’t rush it. The connection grew slowly, naturally.

Conversations turned into glances. Glances turned into touches. And eventually, without either of you having to say much… it became real. You were his, and he was yours.

And when the team found out, they couldn’t have been happier — cheering, clapping, raising drinks in your honor. They loved you two together.

But tonight, that love was being smothered by a rising dread. You weren’t just anxious about the team being late. You were anxious about Bob.

Because while he might be The Sentry, godlike, powerful, nearly unstoppable, that didn’t mean he was untouchable. Something could still go wrong. There were enemies that didn’t play fair. Threats that no one saw coming.

And tonight, you weren’t there to watch his back.

You paced the hallway outside the elevator, arms wrapped around yourself as your boots echoed softly on the marble floor. Your teeth gnawed nervously at your thumbnail. Every few seconds, your eyes flicked toward the elevator doors — praying they’d open.

They didn’t.

Your mind raced, inventing scenario after scenario. Maybe the car had mechanical issues. Maybe there was an ambush on the way back. Maybe one of them got hurt, maybe he got hurt —

You couldn’t finish that thought. At one point, your hand instinctively reached toward your gear, your suit, your weapon.

Your instinct was screaming at you to go. To find them, find him. You were seconds away from sprinting to the armory, from throwing caution aside and flying out there into the night — When you heard it.

Ding.

The elevator chimed and your heart jumped. Your head snapped toward the sound, breath caught in your throat. And in that single moment, everything else faded — fear, anxiety, adrenaline — all waiting for one thing.

The elevator doors slid open with a soft whoosh. Your breath caught, your eyes widened. And for a second, just one suspended, terrifying second, the world around you froze.

Yelena stood there, holding Bob upright, supporting most of his weight as he limped beside her. He looked exhausted, disheveled.

His uniform was torn, one sleeve hanging loose, and his entire body sagged as if every step was a fight. He winced with each movement, clearly favoring one leg. You didn’t wait. You ran straight to him.

“Bob— Bob, are you okay? What happened?” you asked breathlessly, eyes scanning him up and down like you could somehow make sense of the damage with sheer panic.

“I’m fine,” he said, trying to smile. “Just hurt my leg a little.”

But he wasn’t fine. You could see it, the way he winced. The way he tried to hide how much he was leaning on Yelena. His voice was too tight. Too forced.

Your eyes flicked to Yelena, and she gave you a look, equal parts tired and guilty.

“He got the worst of it,” she admitted, her voice low. “Took the hit for the rest of us. Thanks to him, we made it out.”

Something twisted in your chest. You looked at the others trailing into the hallway — laughing, bantering, more or less intact — and then at Bob, still barely standing. He was the strongest among them, and they should have protected him, too. Why was he the only one hurt?

But you didn’t say it. You swallowed your frustration, forced a small nod, and turned back to Yelena.

“Here, switch with me,” you said. She nodded wordlessly, handing Bob over into your arms. You wrapped your arm gently around his waist, guiding him through the hall and into your room. Each step he took made you wince inwardly. He was trying to stay upright, to stay strong, but you could feel how much he was hurting.

Once inside, you helped him to the bed.

“Easy,” you whispered.

Bob groaned softly as he sat down, back resting against the wall, his leg extended in front of him. His breathing was shallow.

“Okay, let me have a better look,” you murmured, crouching in front of him.

You carefully reached for the hem of his pants and began to pull them up, slowly, gently, just enough to uncover the injury.

Bob hissed between his teeth. “Shit…”

The wound was worse than you expected. Not fatal, nor hospital-level urgent. But deep, ragged, swollen, and already bruising around the edges. Blood had dried in streaks down his leg, sticking to the fabric.

“Stay still,” you said quietly. “I’ll get my med kit.”

You moved fast, crossing the room to retrieve the supplies you always kept on hand. You weren’t just another superhero with fists and reflexes. You were trained, a certified medic. In a team like yours, that made all the difference. You’d patched up more people than you could count. But this wasn’t just anyone.

This was Bob. And the sight of him, hurting like this, made your chest tighten painfully.

You returned quickly, climbing onto the bed beside him, hands steady as you laid out antiseptic, gauze, and thread. He watched you silently, eyes soft.

“You’re amazing you know that?,” he said suddenly, voice low and hoarse. “You fight like hell, patch us all up like it’s nothing… And then still find time to take care of me.”

You paused for a second, looking up at him, your hands still hovering over his leg.

“I always find time for you,” you said, voice just as quiet. He smiled — small, tired, but real.

You reached into your med kit with practiced hands, your fingers quickly finding the familiar shape of the disinfectant bottle.

But as you gripped it, your heart sank a little. You knew this part was going to hurt. A lot. Your eyes drifted to Bob, guilt flashing through you.

“I’m sorry,” you murmured softly, already reaching for a nearby piece of clothing, an old shirt that had been tossed carelessly onto the bed earlier. You held it up toward him. “Here. Bite down on this.” He didn’t hesitate.

With a shaky hand, he took the fabric and pressed it between his teeth, jaw clenching as he braced himself. His eyes met yours, full of silent hope and trust, his heartbeat pounding visibly in his throat.

And just before you started, he reached out and grabbed your free hand. His fingers wrapped around yours tightly — not rough, but desperate. Like he needed something to anchor him, something solid, something safe.

You smiled at him gently and gave his hand a small squeeze in return.

“Alright,” you said softly. “Here we go.”

You uncapped the bottle and began to slowly pour the disinfectant over the wound. The effect was immediate.

Bob jerked, his entire body tensing as pain exploded in his leg. A muffled scream escaped into the shirt in his mouth. His eyes clamped shut. He squeezed your hand so tightly your knuckles turned white, but you didn’t flinch. You stayed there with him, steady as stone.

“I know, I know— I’m so sorry,” you whispered quickly, your voice calm and full of warmth as you worked. “You’re doing so good. Just a little more. I’ve got you.”

You continued pouring the liquid around and over the injury with careful precision. His breath came in short, harsh gasps. His muscles trembled from the pain. But you never stopped speaking to him. Words of comfort. Praise.

Only when the wound was fully cleaned and flushed did you finally close the bottle and place it back in the kit. You exhaled slowly, but you didn’t want him in pain for a second longer than necessary, so you gently let go of his hand, reached for the bandages, and immediately began wrapping the injury.

Each motion was efficient, but soft. You worked with purpose, but care, every loop of gauze a silent reassurance: I've got you.

Bob watched you the entire time. He couldn’t take his eyes off you. The way your brow furrowed in focus. The tenderness of your touch. The quiet intensity of your love, visible in every motion. He slowly pulled the T-shirt from his mouth and let it drop beside him, exhaling a little easier.

“Thank you,” he breathed, voice raw but sincere.

You looked up at him, raised an eyebrow, and gave a dry, ironic laugh.

“Oh sure,” you said. “I basically tortured you, and you thank me?”

He smiled, that tired, crooked grin that always melted your heart. “You made it bearable. That’s what counts.”

Once the bandage was secure, you smoothed it gently with your hand, your fingertips tracing the edge. Then, without thinking, you leaned down and pressed a soft kiss right to the gauze.

Bob let out a low murmur as your lips pressed gently against the freshly bandaged wound. But it wasn’t from pain. It was a different kind of sound, something soft, something warm. Something that came from the depths of his chest.

You looked up at him with a small smile and tucked a stray lock of his hair out of his face, letting your fingers trail across his skin just a little longer than necessary.

He was watching you. But not just watching, drinking you in. As if you were salvation itself. As if you were the very last thing he’d ever want to see in this world, and if so, he’d die a happy man. Because that’s exactly what you were to him. The center of his universe.

You tilted your head slightly. “Do you want something for the pain?” you asked softly.

He shook his head, still holding your gaze. “No… well—”

You paused, mid-motion, raising your eyebrows in curiosity as you began putting away the medical supplies.

“There is one thing,” he added, his voice suddenly taking on that teasing lilt you knew all too well.

You turned toward him, the first signs of a smirk tugging at your lips. “Yeah? And what would that be?” Bob gave you a playful look.

“Can I get a kiss for the pain?”

Your face immediately flushed. You ducked your head with a soft, breathy laugh, shaking it in amusement. God, he could be so charming when he wanted to be, a total menace, really. And yet somehow, you never stood a chance.

“Sure,” you muttered under your breath, still smiling.

Then, slowly, you lifted your gaze back to his. You leaned in, closing the distance, and gently brushed your lips over his, just barely. A featherlight touch. A whisper of warmth.

But as you began to pull away, Bob’s brows drew together. That wasn't enough for him.

His hand slid up to the back of your neck with firm, but tender insistence. In one smooth motion, he pulled you in and captured your mouth in a real kiss, one that was hot, deep, and absolutely unmissable.

All the gentleness from before evaporated in an instant. Your body tensed, then melted. Your breath hitched. And for a heartbeat, or maybe more, you forgot where you were.

There was nothing but him. Nothing but his lips on yours, his fingers tangled in your hair, the heat rolling off his skin, the electricity sparking down your spine.

Your lips moved against his in a gentle rhythm —exploring, savoring. A tender dance filled with unspoken emotions, every brush of your mouth against his saying I’m here. I’ve got you.

Bob’s hand stayed at the back of your neck, grounding you to him, his fingers gently stroking through your hair. You could feel the tension slowly melt from his body — replaced by something warmer.

You pressed in just a little more. He responded immediately. The kiss deepened.

No longer hesitant or soft — now it was needy. His other hand found your waist, gripping you with just enough pressure to make your breath catch. You could feel the way he exhaled sharply through his nose, the way his lips began moving faster, his mouth opening more, inviting yours to follow.

And god, you did.

Your hands slid up over his shoulders, into his hair, pulling him closer. Your lips parted. Your tongues met.

The heat between you spiked like a lit match dropped on dry leaves. The way he kissed you… it was wild. Messy. Desperate.

Like he’d been holding it back for days, and now that he had you like this, he couldn’t get enough. Couldn’t breathe without you.

You only broke the kiss when your lungs begged for air. You pulled back slightly, your lips tingling, your cheeks flushed, your heart absolutely pounding in your chest. You were both breathless.

“Wait—” you said softly, brushing your fingers across his face. “Aren't you in pain?”

Bob blinked up at you with that dazed, blissed-out expression that made your stomach twist in the best way. And then he smiled.

“Not when I’m with you.”

That answer hit you right in the chest. You couldn’t help it. You let out a soft, breathy laugh. And then you kissed him again.

This time there was no holding back.

He pulled you against him and you leaned into the kiss with everything you had. You could feel the way your bodies fit together, how he reacted to every touch, every sound you made.

With Bob’s hands guiding your hips, you found yourself straddling his lap, your legs on either side of him, your body pressed flush against his. The kiss didn’t stop. It couldn’t stop.

His hands roamed your waist, your back, anchoring you to him as your fingers slid into his golden hair. Your mouths moved in sync, messy and greedy and breathless. The world faded around you. All that existed was this, his mouth, his touch, his heat, him.

Bob wasn’t always like this. He didn’t always kiss you with such bold hunger. He didn’t always touch you with that certain quiet confidence that now made your breath hitch in the best possible way.

In the beginning, Bob had been, without a doubt, the shyest and most adorably awkward man you had ever met. He was gentle, soft-spoken, always watching his words, always second-guessing his actions.

He was sweet, achingly so. That part of him never changed. But back then, he was hesitant. Unsure of how to move, how to approach you, how to let himself have you.

His touches had been featherlight. Fleeting. Sometimes almost nervous. He rarely initiated physical affection — not because he didn’t want to, but because he was scared he’d mess it up somehow. Like if he reached out too fast, he’d break the perfect thing blooming between you.

It was you who tore down the invisible wall between you. You were the one who leaned in first and kissed him.

The one who showed him it was okay to want, to take, to be close. Even when it came to your first sex together, it was you who led the way, guiding him, showing him it was safe, it was good, it was okay to let go.

And Bob let you. He trusted you so deeply, so purely, it made your heart ache. He admired you. Looked up to you like you were something just out of reach, even as you held him in your arms. You gave him space to breathe, to grow — and now, months later, you could see it happening right before your eyes.

His confidence was growing. Bit by bit, day by day, it bloomed. And you loved it.

That’s why now, sometimes, in the middle of kissing, you’d feel his hands tighten around your hips, fingers digging in just enough to make your breath stutter.

Or maybe he’d trail those hands slowly over your waist, your back, your thighs — exploring without hesitation.

Every now and then, he’d even nip at your lips with a playful growl, pulling you closer like he couldn’t help himself.

Not rough. Not demanding. Just free, free with his love, his desire, his joy. And you adored every second of it.

You didn’t even realize when your hips started moving. At first, it was subtle, a slow, natural roll forward as you adjusted your weight in Bob’s lap. But when his hands instinctively tightened on your waist in response, something in you clicked.

That small shift, that tiniest reaction, made the warmth between your thighs flare up into something much hotter.

You moved again. This time slower. More deliberate. You rolled your hips forward once more, then gently back, creating just the faintest friction between your core and the growing bulge in his pants.

Bob groaned into your mouth. It was deep, low, and impossibly sexy. His lips broke away from yours just long enough to breathe, his chest rising sharply under you.

“You’re gonna kill me,” he whispered, voice rough and full of heat.

You smirked and tilted your head, letting your lips graze along his jawline as you whispered teasingly,

“Oh? Am I distracting you, Bob?”

His hands slid up your back before settling just beneath your shoulder blades.

“You have no idea what you’re doing to me,” he murmured, his breath hot against your skin.

“Oh, I think I do,” you said with a quiet laugh, rocking your hips forward again — slower, firmer this time. The friction made you gasp softly against his lips. “You’re not the only one who’s losing their mind here…” And it was true.

Every time your hips moved, you could feel the heat building between your legs. The ache. The need.

Your body was growing desperate for more, even if your brain kept you teasing for now — just enjoying how it made both of you unravel. The way your core pulsed with every motion, every sound he made… it was driving you wild.

Bob’s breath hitched as you gave another grind, just a little harder now.

His lips caught yours in another kiss — deeper, hungrier, messier. And through every moan, every shiver, every little movement, that fire between you kept growing.

He pulled you closer, impossibly closer, his hands now back on your hips, fingers digging into your skin like he needed to feel every part of you.

“Keep doing that,” he growled against your mouth, “and I swear—”

“What?” you breathed, your lips brushing his. “What’ll you do, Bob?”

He opened his mouth to answer, but all that came out was a breathless, broken moan as your hips rolled again, slow and firm. You were torturing him. And it felt so good.

Bob was wrecked. You could feel it, his hard cock beneath you, straining against the soft fabric of his pants. You weren’t much better. The damp warmth pooling between your thighs was impossible to ignore now. Every shift of your hips sent another delicious jolt through your body.

His breath was heavy against your cheek, shaky, restrained. His forehead pressed softly to yours, and for a second… there was silence. Thick, loaded silence. Then his voice broke through it.

“Did you lock the door?” he asked suddenly, his hands still firm on your hips.

You blinked, dazed. “I… I don’t know.”

Bob paused for half a second. Maybe he thought about getting up. Maybe he meant to. But then you shifted again and the friction made both of you gasp softly. He exhaled through his nose. A defeated little groan.

“Screw it,” he whispered.

Before you could ask what he meant, his hands moved. They weren’t rough, but they were sure. Steady. He trailed one hand from your waist down, slowly, like he’d been waiting for this moment all night. The other stayed on your back, holding you close, anchoring you to him.

Your breath caught in your throat. Your heart pounded against your ribs like a drum.

And when his fingers found the edge of your waistband — gentle, teasing, with purpose — your whole body tensed in anticipation. The heat inside you was unbearable. Almost dizzying.

He leaned up, his lips brushing against your ear as he whispered with that signature Bob softness, “Tell me if you want me to stop.”

But you didn’t. You couldn’t even think of stopping. All you could do was nod and melt into his touch.

You buried your face in his neck, as his fingers brushed against your wet folds. His movement was slow, rhytmically moving up and down, teasing with a smirk on his face. Every movement sent sparks rushing through your veins. Your whole body responded, arching into him, trembling against him, lips parted in barely audible sighs.

“You like that?” he asked innocently, as if he had no idea what he was doing to you, though he knew exactly what effect he had.

You were grinding your hips against the rhythm of his fingers, warm breaths falling from your lips in shaky moans as you tried to chase more friction, more contact, more him.

You nodded harshly, biting down on your bottom lip, your eyes fluttering shut.

Bob kept the same unhurried pace for a moment, watching you fall apart with a hunger in his eyes that made your whole body buzz. Then, without warning, he slipped two fingers between your folds, slow, deep, and deliberate.

You gasped sharply, your head falling back as your spine arched off the surface beneath you. Your body trembled, melting into his touch, your thighs twitching as he hit just the right spot.

The soft, broken moan that escaped you made his cock twitch inside his pants—his jaw clenched, but he didn’t rush. He wanted to take his time with you. He wanted to remember every sound, every breath, every little reaction you gave him like it was sacred.

And god, the way you looked right now—eyes half-lidded, lips swollen, body squirming under his control—it took everything in him not to lose himself right then and there.

His fingers moved with slow, deliberate intent, curling just right inside you, like he already knew what made your body tremble. You could feel the heat pooling in your belly, the pressure building faster than you expected, and still, he didn’t let up.

You moaned his name softly, a breathless whimper that made him look up at you through half-lidded eyes. He was watching you like you were the only thing that mattered, his lips parted, pupils blown wide with lust.

Your fingers tangled in his hair, at first just resting there—but the deeper his fingers went, the more precise his movements got, the harder you gripped. You tugged, desperate, pulling his head back just a little. He hissed at the sensation, his breath catching as he let out a quiet groan in response.

“God…” he muttered under his breath, his hips jerking subtly against the mattress as your moans grew louder. The way you were reacting to his touch, it was undoing him piece by piece.

His free hand slid up your waist, holding you steady as your thighs began to tremble around his wrist. Your back arched, and another sharp tug of his hair made him grunt, his cock straining almost painfully inside his pants now, but he still didn’t rush.

He curled his fingers deeper, pressed his thumb to just the right spot, and your whole body jumped.

You gasped, eyes flying open for a second before they fluttered shut again. “Bob—please, I—”

“I know,” he said, and kissed the corner of your mouth, voice hot and shaky. “I’ve got you, sweetheart. Let go for me.”

And just like that, the pressure snapped.

Your climax hit like a crashing wave, rippling through every inch of you. Your fingers tightened in his hair, your legs trembled violently around him, and a long, broken cry escaped your throat. Your body arched, locked, then slowly melted back into the sheets, trembling in the aftershocks.

Bob didn’t stop right away. He eased you through every pulse, whispering soft praises against your skin—his own breath ragged, his jaw clenched from the restraint. His forehead rested against your shoulder as he slowly pulled his fingers out, his hand wet, his eyes absolutely wrecked from watching you unravel.

“You okay?” he whispered, and you nodded weakly, your lips trembling with a dazed smile.

Your body was still trembling slightly, your skin flushed and covered in a sheen of sweat. You were breathless, completely undone, and yet your gaze locked on his.

He was staring at you like you’d just knocked the air out of his lungs, chest rising and falling as if he was the one who’d just come. His cheeks were slightly pink, lips parted, eyes dark and wanting.

But then you pushed your hands against his chest, steadying yourself on him, and leaned in a little.

“That was amazing,” you whispered, your voice hoarse, a little shaky… but firm enough to make his brows twitch. “But aren’t you supposed to be the one getting pleasure right now?”

His breath hitched. Then, a soft chuckle rumbled from deep in his throat. “Maybe,” he murmured, his voice still rough. “But I love seeing you like this.”

He leaned forward, grinning like a man who was about to break all his own rules, and kissed you—hard. There was nothing gentle about it this time. His lips crashed against yours with hunger, like he needed to taste the sounds you’d made a moment ago.

You kissed him back with equal fire, fingers sliding up into his hair again, tugging lightly as you deepened the kiss. He groaned into your mouth, the sound vibrating against your lips.

Then, without breaking eye contact, you slowly lifted yourself up on your knees, positioning yourself between his legs. You reached down, fingers ghosting along his waistband, eyes locked on his as you whispered: “Now it’s my turn.”

His pupils dilated instantly. You tugged gently at his waistband, and he sucked in a sharp breath, lifting his hips with a grunt to help you. Despite the injury, he was more than willing to let you take control.

You pulled his pants down together with his boxers, just enough to reveal the aching bulge straining against his briefs. He was hard. So hard.

Bob hissed quietly as the cool air hit him, his muscles tensing under your touch. You wrapped your fingers around him—slowly, teasingly. His head fell back with a groan, hips twitching slightly.

“Oh…” he whispered, voice tight and ragged. “Your hands are—god, baby…”

You started stroking him with a slow, steady rhythm. Your eyes didn’t leave his face—not even for a second. You wanted to see every twitch of his lips, every furrow of his brows, every stutter of his breath. You wanted to see him fall apart the way he’d just watched you.

And he was. His abs clenched, lips parting around little gasps, the muscles in his thighs twitching as he tried not to buck into your touch. His hand gripped the sheets tightly beside him, knuckles white.

“You feel so good,” you murmured, your voice a breathy purr as you leaned in to kiss just below his ear. “I want to see you lose control for me.”

He growled softly, his free hand sliding up your thigh in pure reflex. “Don’t stop,” he muttered, voice rough and needy. “Please don’t stop.”

You didn’t stop. Not even when his voice began to crack, or when his hips started bucking into your hand involuntarily, chasing every stroke like it was the last bit of sanity he had left.

Bob was panting, his jaw slack, eyes fluttering shut, brow furrowed in that beautiful, desperate way. You leaned in again, letting your breath brush against his ear, and that was it. His body jerked beneath you, and he let out a broken sound, half moan, half sob.

“I—ah—please, I can’t—” His voice shook, cracking at the edges. Tears pricked the corners of his eyes from the intensity, and he clutched at your thigh like he needed something—anything—to ground him.

You kept going. Just enough pressure. Just the right rhythm.

“You can, baby,” you whispered sweetly, lips grazing his cheek. “You’re doing so good for me. Let go.” And he did.

With a soft cry, his whole body tensed. His back arched off the bed, fingers digging into your skin as hot ropes of release spilled over your hand. His breath came in ragged gasps, each one more broken than the last. A few tears slipped free, and you kissed them away softly, smiling like he was the most precious thing in the world.

He collapsed back against the bed, chest heaving, lips parted as he tried to catch his breath. His eyes blinked open slowly, dazed, overwhelmed—wrecked.

“I… I think I saw God,” he whispered, voice hoarse.

You laughed softly and leaned in to kiss his jaw. “Told you it was your turn.”

You let him rest, wiping him down gently with a nearby cloth, brushing damp strands of hair from his forehead, tracing your fingers softly along his chest. The room was quiet now, save for the sound of your breaths syncing together. You stayed close, your body pressed together.

Bob’s hand found yours, fingers intertwining lazily, his thumb stroking your knuckles.

But after a while, that hunger returned to your eyes, subtle, controlled, but unmistakable. You shifted slightly, signing that you're ready for more. He blinked up at you, still slightly breathless.

“You sure?” he asked, voice soft but already laced with anticipation. “I… I don’t know if I’ve got much left in me.” You leaned down, brushing your lips over his, your voice a gentle whisper.

“Then just lie back and let me take care of you.”

His breath hitched again as he nodded, completely at your mercy. You reached for your pants to unzip them and somehow manage to get them off together with your soaked panties.

You reached between your bodies, guided him to your entrance, and slowly you sank down onto him. A soft gasp escaped your lips as he filled you, the stretch delicious, his warmth spreading through you like fire.

Bob moaned beneath you, his hands finding your hips as his head fell back against the pillow.

“Mhm… you feel—God, you feel amazing,” he whispered.

You began to move, rolling your hips with careful, steady rhythm. Letting the sensation build between you like waves lapping against a shoreline—slow, sensual, deep. You were savoring every inch of him inside you. Bob’s hands trembled slightly on your waist, half from overstimulation, half from awe.

His head tipped back into the wall behind the bed, lips parted, soft gasps escaping as you rocked against him. His lashes fluttered, brows drawn in that way that made your heart ache.

“You’re so… warm,” he whispered, breath catching. You leaned down, your chest brushing his, and kissed him, deeply. Your tongue moved against his with lazy hunger, and he whimpered softly into your mouth. His arms wrapped around you, pulling you closer despite his exhausted muscles.

He kissed you like he needed it to stay alive. Like you were oxygen after drowning.

Your hips kept a steady rhythm, dragging every motion out, making him feel all of you. You whispered little praises against his lips, like spells. But the deeper you sank into each other, the more the intensity began to rise.

You started moving faster, your body hungry for him, chasing that rhythm together. Bob’s fingers dug into your hips, his breath growing louder. His body was exhausted but his need for you overrode everything.

You sat up slightly, your hands pressing into his chest again as you began to ride him properly now. Harder. Deeper.

“B-baby, please—” he gasped, tears welling in his eyes again as the overstimulation hit him full force. But he didn’t beg you to stop. He held on.

“I’ve got you,” you breathed, voice firm and loving. “You can take it, I know you can.”

And he could. He did.

Even in his spent state, he tried to meet your thrusts, hips twitching upward with what little strength he had left. His hands ran over your body like he couldn’t get enough, fingers trembling against your waist.

“I—I love you so much, I can’t—” he groaned, voice breaking. Your movements faltered for a second as those words hit, and your eyes met his, wide, open, vulnerable. And he meant it. Every word. Your chest tightened with something far deeper than arousal.

“I love you too,” you whispered, and then your lips were on his again, devouring the moment.

You rode him harder now, moaning into his mouth as your body coiled tighter and tighter. His name fell from your lips like a prayer, again and again, and his gasps turned to cries.

He was losing it, hands gripping you, moaning brokenly, muttering your name like he was afraid he’d forget it if he stopped.

And when you clenched around him just right, you felt him shudder.

“I’m gonna— I can’t—”

“You can,” you whispered against his lips, grinding down hard. “Let me feel it. Give it to me.”

And he did.

His second climax ripped through him like a thunderstorm, violent, overwhelming. He let out a desperate, shattered sob, clutching you tight as he came inside you, hips jerking uncontrollably. His whole body arched, muscles seizing, breath stolen right out of his lungs.

You followed just seconds after, crying out his name as you collapsed against him, your body trembling from the force of your orgasm. It was perfect.

You stayed there, forehead to forehead, chests pressed together, your bodies still joined. Bob was shaking beneath you, completely spent, tears still glistening on his lashes. But he was smiling. That dazed, euphoric, in love kind of smile.

“God,” he whispered, brushing his fingers weakly along your back. You kissed his cheek, tasting the salt of his tears.

“Did I ease the pain,” you whispered back, “at least a little bit?”

He laughed a soft, breathless sound. “More than a little bit darling.” He held you tighter, like he never wanted you to leave and both of you were happy, warm, still inside of each other, still connected.

Then suddenly a click. The door creaked open.

“Hey, I just wanted to check if Bob’s—”

Bucky froze mid-step. Your eyes flew open in horrified realization. Bob turned his head, blinking in confused panic.

“Oh my god—”

“SHIT!” Bucky’s eyes went wide. Like regret-wide. He immediately spun on his heel and slammed the door shut.

“NOPE—NOPE—I DIDN’T SEE SHIT!” His voice echoed faintly from the hallway, clearly scarred for life. There was a beat of absolute silence.

Then you and Bob slowly turned to look at each other with wide eyes. You were still inside him. His hair was a mess. The sheets were chaos. He swallowed loudly and then you burst out laughing. Bob followed a second later, throwing his head back with a groan.

“I swear to God,” he wheezed, voice still breathless, “I’m never going to be able to look him in the eyes again.”

You giggled uncontrollably, burying your face in his neck. “Well,” you snorted, “looks like I forgot to lock the door.”

Bob let out a helpless, high-pitched laugh, wrapping his arms around you tighter even as his cheeks burned red.

“Babe, I love you… but we’re never speaking of this again.”

“Too late,” you grinned against his skin, still laughing. “I’m gonna tease you forever.” And even though embarrassment still buzzed under your skin, neither of you moved.

You stayed like that as long as you could and even though the two of you were thoroughly satisfied and wrapped in each other’s arms, Bucky was probably out there somewhere, scrubbing his eyes with bleach.

THANK YOU SO MUCH FOR READING!

I hope you guys enjoyed it! If you have any suggestions, don’t hesitate to let me know! I’d also be super happy for any feedback; whether it’s a reblog, comment, like, or even a follow.

Have a lovely day!

BYEEE🪻🌂

#smut #lewis pullman x you #lewis pullman smut #lewis pullman x reader #lewis pullman #lewis pullman x y/n #bob reynolds x fem!reader #bob reynolds x you #bob reynolds x y/n #bob reynolds x reader #bob thunderbolts #bob reynolds smut #bob reynolds #robert reynolds x you #robert reynolds x reader #robert reynolds #robert reynolds smut #marvel x reader #marvel smut

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dameronspector · 29 days ago

Text

Willow

(A Pjo and Mcu!AU)

Pairing: Bob Reynolds x Fem!ExAvenger!Reader

Chapter Summary: You are were an Avenger. But before becoming an Avenger, you were a demigod— were half human, half god—rescued and trained by Natasha Romanoff, Steve Rogers and Tony Stark. You were only 15, then. Fast forward 10 years later, here you were, with the three people that you looked up to, and who had saved your life, being dead. Leaving you alone and too old to go back to your camp. That left you with no choice but to pick up odd, free agent work to keep your life going with the support of your remaining family. What happens when you meet a meek, vulnerable yet the most powerful man who made you relive your worst traumas?

Warnings: No Bob in this chapter, world building + character background, Mentions of Injuries, Blood, Demons, Monsters, Canon Typical Violence, Depression, Death of a parent, Insecurities, Isolation, Fluff, Angst, Hurt/Comfort, Lots of Found Family content, CW+IW+Endgame timeline, Reader has magical abilities of the goddess Hecate (eg: necromancy, pyrokinesis, hypnokinesis, dark magic, etc. you can find the rest on rioridanwiki!), that’s all i think!

**this is a work of fiction. I don't own any of these characters and I have made some changes to fit the storyline better and because it's an AU. I have taken all the information from google and riordanwiki. Incase I have gotten anything wrong, please let me know!**

AN: oh i am so IN for this pjo x mcu crossover like... this is literally my childhood and adulthood mixed in one. But im also nervous omg. Also, the title is inspired by the lyirc: 'life was a willow and it bent right to your wind' from Willow by Taylor Swift. (Btw, my godly parent, as per riordanverse, is Apollo, which is yours?😁)

PS: let's assume civil war took place after the reader was recruited.

Look, you didn't plan to abandon your camp.

But when your godly mother is Hecate, you inherit the misfortune of having night empowerment, that is, your magic was the strongest at night and the weakest during the day, which is why you were left powerless when Luke betrayed the camp and joined Kronos, poisoning Thalia's Tree. This weakened the borders and allowed monsters and demons of all kinds to target Camp Half-Blood. It's even more difficult when you were not allowed to use your godly powers in front of the whole world even if the mist would protect you. On top of it, Chiron had strict schedules and rules for your trainings so that meant no excessive or exhaustive training exercises combined with your 15 year old self, you had to heavily rely on your magic, which would often drain you if you used it incorrectly or without proper preparations.

As Hecate's daughter, you preferred solitude and so did the rest of your siblings. But that didn't mean you weren't protective over each other. In fact, you were fiercely protective, and you joined the fight to defend your cabin and your camp from the demons unleashed by Kronos. Since you were an older demi-god, it was your job to look after, and protect, the younger ones as well. And you did exactly that. In an attempt to save one of the newly claimed demi-gods, Percy Jackson, you ended up throwing him out of the way and stood way too close to the camp's border.

"Percy, stay back!", you shouted at him while using your magic to turn one of the demons into a pile of ash and golden ichor. It was nearing sunset, so you could slowly feel your powers coming back to you, but still felt your body shutting down gradually because of the overuse of your powers.

Percy was a very stubborn and reckless kid, you realized that the moment he went head to head with Clarisse La Rue. And when he got claimed by Poseidon himself, you understood where he got that hero complex from. Nevertheless, you found yourself feeling protective over him, especially since Grover and Chiron themselves vouched for him. You had taken it upon yourself to protect him, Chiron's words of worry echoing in your mind.

You had lost your father in an unfortunate accident when you were just 10 years old and that's when Hecate had officially claimed you, protecting you and guiding you to the camp. Having no family in the mortal world, you easily grew attached to your fellow campers. Which lead to you protecting them even if it costed you your life.

On top of it, you stayed up at night everyday, wishing you’d get a chance to say goodbye to your father, at least once. Wishing you’d lead a normal life. You knew how different you were from your half siblings, how it took you time to perfect your magic. All of this made you insecure of yourself, blaming yourself for any shortcomings. Chiron tried to reassure you time and time again, but the mind was a tricky place to get out of.

Percy was grunting and using all his might to fight back the angry Minotaur, his sword glinting in the yellow-orange hue of the sky. His shoes scuffed against the ground, the Minotaur using its huge obsidian black horns to push him back, Percy’s dirty blonde curls shaking violently, a sheen of sweat on his forehead. There was chaos everywhere, sounds of weapons clanking against each other and hums of magic and spells that came from the enchanted cabins, groans and roars of the creatures and a faint smell of smoke coming from somewhere behind you.

"I'm fine!", Percy called back in his breathless voice, his chest heaving with the effort. You finished off the demon that was fighting you and joined Percy, casting a protection spell, a purple bubble of your powers surround you and resist against the Minotaur. Suddenly, a Fury startled you and latched onto your back, a pained groan leaving your mouth. It lead to you breaking the protective shield around Percy, your attention diverted to the Fury.

The Furies were attacking you relentlessly, leaving scratch marks against your arms and back. You managed to conjure a spell and hurl it at them, when you heard a shout of pain. You turned your head to see that Percy was on his back while the Minotaur approached him, nostrils flaring in anger and Percy still trying to come to his bearings. Luckily, someone shot arrows to distract the Furies and you stood up quickly, your head spinning and knees weak. You rushed over and stood in front of Percy, faintly hearing Annabeth's distressed call for him to get up.

Your ears were ringing and all you could see were the Minotaur's glowing eyes and flaring nostrils, it's muscles tensed before it charged and you quickly shoved Percy down the hill before casting a spell as a barrier between you and the Minotaur.

You could see Annabeth cradling Percy against her and you sighed in relief, your eyesight turning blurry because of the exhaustion and unshed tears when the Minotaur managed to charge, pushing you out of the camp border. A choked gasp left your mouth and you could just see Annabeth's mouth open in a scream before you passed through a mist and entered the outside world. You fell on your back, the hard ground hurting your ribs, before promptly passing out.

When you came to, your saw a white ceiling above you and a persistent beeping on your right. The harsh light hurt your eyes, which made you close them while letting out a pained wince.

"Hey, it's okay..", a calm and composed voice muttered next to you, your eyebrows furrowing in confusion because it didn't sound anything like Chiron or Mr D. Slowly opening your lids, you turned your head to the left and saw that a huge, muscular man was sitting next to you. He had cropped blonde hair, light blue eyes, and was wearing a grey t-shirt underneath a leather jacket, his hands pressed against the railing of your bed. You felt like you had seen him somewhere before, but you couldn't recall it.

Licking your dry and chapped lips, you finally spoke up, "W-Who are you? Where's Chiron?"

The man's face shifted in confusion, "Chiron? I'm sorry, I don't know who that is but--I'm Steve. Steve Rogers."

That's when it clicked you, your eyes widened in realisation, "You—oh my gods, you are Captain America...", you let out in a breathy whisper and the man-Captain America, smiled shyly.

Of course you know who he was. An advantage of being a demi-god was that you had to be aware of what was going on in the world. So obviously, you were all aware (and fans) of the Avengers. You and Grover always fought about who was that strongest Avenger—Hulk or Thor (he was Team Hulk, you were Team Thor. #demigodssupporteachother or whatever.) And you'd be lying if you said half of the kids in your camp didn't have a crush on Steve or Thor.

Which is why, him sitting so close to you was sending you, and your heart, into a frenzy, the monitor on your right beeping louder and Steve furrowed his brows in concern.

"Are you okay? Should I call a nurse-"

Your cheeks warmed in embarrassment, "No! No, I-I am okay. Thanks. How...how did I get here? Where are we?", you stammered, still a little out of it. You could make out faint memories of asking Percy to stay back and facing a Minotaur, but everything was a blur after that.

"Well, we are at the Avengers Compound. We found you near the woods at Montauk beach. Thankfully, we were doing some recon stuff and Tony informed us about a heat signature. When we got off to check it out, you were lying unconscious with a few cuts on your body. How did you even get there? It's pretty far away from civilisation", Steve asked you in confusion.

You froze. Although it would've been just another Tuesday for him, you remembered your 'oath' as a demi-god—act normal and unassuming in front of the world outside the camp. So you decided to lie for now.

"Uh- it's...it's a long story. Can we discuss it later?", you asked him hesitantly, hoping he'd believe you.

Steve nodded before helping you sit up and handed you a glass of water. You accepted it gratefully and took a few soothing sips.

"That's alright. We'll probably debrief you later. You should rest, you have a few cuts and bruised ribs. The doctor will come to check on you soon. Do you wanna contact somebody at home...?"

You froze. Since you had travelled all the way across from one end of New York to the other, you assumed that the fight must've simmered down by now. You needed to contact Chiron and inform him about your whereabouts as soon as possible.

"Uh-yes. Do you mind giving me a phone? I must've lost mine somewhere..."

Steve nodded and fished out his own cell, before leaving the room to give you some privacy.

You let out a sigh of relief after the door shut and put his phone aside, casting a mist with your powers and focusing intently to call upon Chiron. It took some time to conjure it in your exhausted state, the mist disappearing and your hands shaking after a while.

After trying for the fourth time, you finally made the connection.

"(Name)? Where are you?", Chiron's aged and worried face shimmered in the rainbow.

"Chiron! Oh gods, I'm so sorry. The Minotaur pushed me out of the borders and, you're not gonna believe this, The Avengers saved me. I'm at the Avengers Compound, right now", you explained to him and his face shifted in understanding before he let out a sigh.

"That's quite far away. When are you coming back? Are you alright?"

"I'm okay. A few cuts and bruised ribs. I- Chiron, they're gonna debrief me. What do I tell them? It's not exactly believable to say that a 15 year old came to this remote beach alone and passed out in the woods."

"Well...they're the Avengers, right? This is probably not a big deal for them. What do you think?", Chiron asked curiously.

You pursed your lips, already having made up your mind about what to do.

"I think...I think I'm gonna tell them."

Chiron gave you a knowing smile, as if he could already see what was going to go down, but he didn't stop you. He never did. He was always a very supportive and anchoring presence in all of your lives.

2 days later you were discharged, arms and legs bandaged and a few bandages scattered across your back.

Steve escorted you to the debrief room, where you met Natasha Romanoff and Tony Stark, who smirked at the perpetual look of awe and wonder on your face. You almost laughed at their laid back looks and how they looked ordinary out of their supersuits. Almost, because your hands were shaking at the fact that you were standing in front of literal superheroes.

You were absently picking at your chipped black nail polish when Tony addressed you.

"So...(Name)? Right?", Tony began. You nodded and he read something on a tablet before speaking up, "Apart from your father and your early school life, I couldn't find any information on you. Why's that?", he stared at you in scrutiny while Steve and Natasha sat next to him, observing.

You cleared your throat and wrung your hands together in nervousness. Not only were you sitting in front of the Earth's Mightiest Heroes, but also you were going to talk about your real identity. You just hoped they wouldn't arrest you or worse.

"Well—Before I say anything, you have to promise you won’t rat me out", you stated and the three of them hesitated before agreeing to your condition, Tony squinting his eyes in judgement.

You sighed, "I am...not completely human. I'm a demi-god. Demi-titan actually, but yeah.”

The three of them whipped their eyes to look at you, their faces frozen in shock. How was this unassuming, docile, 15 year old girl, a demi god? And how did nobody find out about this?

"I'm sorry, what?", Tony blurted out and Natasha put a hand on his arm.

"Wait, how does nobody know about this? And why should we believe you?", she questioned you sternly.

You pursed your lips before opening up your palm in front of you, a small flame hovered on it, your eyes glowing purple.

"Whoa", Steve murmured in surprise, Natasha staring at you in wonder and Tony's eyes widened in disbelief. You slowly closed your palm and extinguished the flame, your eye colour returning back to normal, hands inside the pocket of the Stark-issued jacket that they had provided you.

"You can't speak of this to anyone. In fact, whatever I'm about to tell you, none of you can ever mention this to anybody. Or you will risk multiple lives. And I mean it", you informed them in a solemn tone and they understood the gravity of your words.

All of them dutifully nodded their heads and asked you to begin, Tony activating a privacy shutdown around the room.

So you began. You told them about your father who died in a car crash and how the Greek Goddess of Magic and Witchcraft, Hecate, had claimed you. That's when you had found out that you were her daughter, her and your father being lovers. Their faces were slack with surprise, the fact that greek gods and goddesses actually existed as the same time as them was unbelievable to them and you smirked at that. You had managed to shock the Avengers themselves.

You told them how Hecate showed you the way to the camp and you spent the next 5 years of your life there, under the guidance of a centaur named Chiron and the god Dionysus. You told them about the attack, how you were thrown outside the camp's borders and that's why you landed in the woods, making sure to not reveal the exact location of the camp. You also told them about your powers, what you can do with your magic, how much can you handle and how it is the strongest at night and dark places and the weakest during the day.

"I-Wow. This is a lot. You are a lot. I have a lot of questions", Tony replied and leaned his head against his hands.

You shrugged, "I really can't tell you anything more than this. I can't risk my family's life. Please, may I go now?"

All of them exchanged looks and asked you to step out for sometime, before calling you back in after 15 minutes.

"(Name)...look. We...have someone like you on our team now. Her name is Wanda Maximoff. Both of you share the same powers, minus the godly parent thing. You'd be an useful asset to the team and she’d help you train. Plus, we'd protect you in return. No more ending up in random woods, no more fighting demons and what not", Tony proposed and you froze.

"What?", you asked in disbelief. Did he really just ask you if you wanted to leave behind your old life and start this one like you knew any of them personally?

“I can’t just leave my home and be an Avenger!”, you said incredulously.

Natasha and Steve sighed before Natasha spoke up, “Look, I get it. It’s not exactly easy to just join us and there’s probably complications that we can’t even imagine. But, think about it. You’d get a place to stay, protection, and appropriate training. You’re only 15, (Name), don’t you think you should be going to school instead of having to constantly look over your shoulder? I know why you went to the camp. It’s so that you don’t end up lonely. I get that, trust me”, she tried to reason and you felt your stomach twist in indignation.

“I’m sorry? I’m not gonna let you sit there and guilt trip me like that, Ms. Romanoff. Let’s not act like you guys live any better lives than we do. And I do go to school, by the way”, you said heatedly, your eyes glowing a muted purple, feeling defensive over your home. Natasha and Steve were silent for a moment while Tony was too busy typing something in the tablet.

You clenched your fists and let out a breath, calming yourself down, “Now, if you’re done, I’d like to leave”, you conceded before standing up and leaving the room in a haste.

“Wait—(Name)!”, Tony’s voice called out and you reluctantly stopped, turning around in irritation.

“Sit down for a moment, will you?”, he requested you and sat down on the sofa outside the room. You grumbled and sat opposite him on the cushioned chair.

Tony began by holding out his hands to placate you, “Listen. We’re not trying to guilt-trip you. I swear. You’ve got potential, kid. And I know how difficult it must’ve been for you to navigate after your father’s death. I get that, I’ve been there. You’re just 15. And we can help you. You mentioned a name—Chiron, right? I assume he's your camp counselor or something?"

You gave him a hesitant nod.

"Why don’t you talk about this with him?”, he offered.

You paused for a moment, mulling over his words. You swallowed in nervousness before replying, “Okay.”

Tony pulled out his phone but you stopped him, “Uh- we can’t use mobile phones. Alerts the monsters and all that.”

Tony made a face, his eyes wrinkling behind his tinted glasses, “How do you talk to people, then?”

You gave him a smirk and conjured a mist, both of your hands splayed out in front of you, before closing your eyes and calling out to Chiron.

“What the fuck?”, Tony muttered next to you and you opened your eyes, seeing Chiron in the rainbow covered mist.

“Chiron…h-how’s everything there? Is everybody alright?”, you asked him tentatively, your leg moving up and down in anxiety, worried about your fellow campers and your siblings.

Chiron sighed in exhaustion, “I won’t lie to you and say it’s alright. Many of the kids, your cabin included, are injured. Grover, the nymphs and the Apollo cabin are tending to all of them. The camp…it’s a mess. Part of our stables is completely burnt, Thalia was barely saved, the hill is covered in small fires, dining area is destroyed…and since the borders are yet to be closed, it’s going to take a while to rebuild.”

Your chest ached, you didn’t want to pile this up on the old man right now. He was already going through a lot.

“Just say it, (Name)”, Chiron quipped. You snapped your head up to look at him. Of course Chiron already sensed you wanted to share something. On your left, Tony was staring at you and Chiron closely—with wonder and something else shimmering in his eyes.

“This is Tony Stark, you know him. Iron Man and Billionaire”, you introduced them before Tony slid in close to you and waved at Chiron. You swallowed before deciding to just bite the bullet, “Chiron, they’ve proposed that I join the team”, you let out in a breath and lowered your eyes in shame.

“Okay. What have you decided?”, Chiron’s calm voice asked you.

You stuttered, “I’m-”, but you knew your answer.

You wanted to get away from the camp for the past 3 years. The place reminding you too much of your father and how you were lesser than the others. How you stuck out like a sore thumb.

But even if you joined the Avengers, you’d still stand out. You’d have to constantly hold back and be careful to avoid hurting others, stay focused and train harder to gain control over yourself and avoid contact altogether, to save them from the monsters that would follow your scent.

But you wanted to do this. The thrill of attending school without getting distracted by some Greek mythological creature following you and finally leaving the camp to try and lead a mundane life was too strong to ignore. You steeled yourself and looked at Chiron.

“I’m doing this, Chiron. I’m sorry”, you could see Tony’s eyes widen next to you and Chiron’s understanding smile.

Chiron was the next thing to a father that you had. His progressive and supportive energy kept you going for the 5 years that you spent in the camp. You would always be grateful for his wisdom and protection.

You felt your eyes tear up before Chiron instructed, “Don’t apologise, my child. You can come to the camp tomorrow. We’ll see you then. Take care.”

You gave him a wet smile and broke the connection, staring at your hands in intense concentration. A few quiet moments passed before Tony nudged you lightly, garnering your attention. You turned your head to the side to look at him with tearful eyes.

“You did good. We’ll discuss the rest when you come back tomorrow, hm?”, he murmured.

You simply nodded in agreement.

You went back to the camp to meet your family for the last time. Bidding farewell to your siblings and your favourite trio—Annabeth, Grover and Percy—along with Chiron and Mr. D. It was a tearful goodbye, Grover and Annabeth crying and Percy trying his best to stifle his. When you went to hug him, he begrudgingly returned it, murmuring into your shoulder that he was upset at you.

You cried harder at that.

After gathering all your stuff from the cabin and bidding everyone goodbye, they walked you to the camp’s borders. Chiron asked you to make a small promise to him, that while you would lead a double life now, you’d try your best to keep this part of it hidden, which meant no sudden iris messages or surprise visits. You vehemently agreed, reassuring him that you’d do anything to protect them and him promising his support to you, anytime.

And then you left. For your new life. As the Demi-God Avenger.

"Well, this is your room, I tried my best to design it to suit you, but if you want any changes, just let me know or shout out to FRIDAY."

"FRIDAY?", you asked in confusion.

Tony smirked in that classic manner of his, "FRIDAY, welcome our newest member."

"Of course, boss. Welcome to the Avengers Compound, Miss (Name). This would be your room and if you need anything, you can just call out my name. I'll assist you at any time."

You jumped when you heard the dismembered voice. It was coming from the entire room, it seemed. Now, you were used to hearing voices out of thin air, but this? The fact that this was achieved without magic was so fascinating to you.

"Whoa...", you breathed out in disbelief, your mouth falling open in awe and your eyes flitting around the entire room.

Tony chuckled next to you, "Yeah, I know. Anyways, settle down and you can join us for lunch or order somethin', if you want. I'll be busy in a meeting and Natasha has gone for an assignment. Steve must be in the gym or the library and it's your lucky day because Bruce is in the labs as well. So, if you need anything, you can go to those two, yeah?"

You nodded absently, and he took your leave. Looking around the room, you took notice of how Tony had personalised it for you.

The room was painted in a terracotta colour, a huge bed in the middle on your left side that was covered in a cream coloured bedsheet, purple coloured duvet, a mountain of cream, purple and yellow coloured pillows. Next to the bed were two side tables, both of them a dark mahogany wood, the one closest to you had a beautiful moon lamp on it. There was a desk lined by the wall in front of the bed, it was in the same dark mahogany wood as the side tables, a purple coloured chair placed in front of it. The bed's left side had an in-the-wall book shelf, and next to it was a huge floor-to-ceiling length window that sprawled across the wall, it was covered in glass and had a sliding door to give you access to the lush green lawn of the compound. The window swathed the room in a golden hue of the afternoon sun, the view of the sun peeking through the trees and leaves moving in the slight breeze putting you at ease right away.

You took in a deep breath, the scent of a lavender candle tickling your nose and you felt like this was home. Your eyes welled up with tears at that.

You see, as the child of a minor goddess, you and your siblings did not have your own cabin. You had to share with the Hermes kids who shared with other minor gods' kids and it was chaotic. You never had a chance to have a place of your own. The fact that Tony, a man you had just met, had done this just to make you feel at home and even allowed you to make any changes as you desire, was everything to you. You'd be forever grateful for how he took you in and let you live at his place as if you always belonged.

You decided to spend the whole day in your room, unpacking your stuff and arranging it. There was a door on the right of the desk that was most likely the bathroom. You opened it and were shocked at the sight in front of you--the bathroom was huge, with a large bathtub and a shower cubicle on the left. You didn't notice it at first, but as soon as you entered, there was another door on the right which lead into the closet, which was substantially big enough for you. After arranging your clothes in it and taking in your room once more, you decided to walk out and thank Tony for all of this.

Tony just waved you off, stopping your attempts at thanking him, telling you to feel at home and pull up your socks for the training, instead. After having dinner with them and introducing yourself to Bruce, you went back to your room and just crashed, falling asleep immediately for the first time in your life.

2016

It's been a whole year since you became an Avenger and moved into the compound. You had settled in quite well, making a friend in Wanda who trained you everyday to control your powers (which, you were sure, that Hecate must have rolled her eyes at), and had a dysfunctional family of superheroes now, being extremely close to all of them. Even if that was the case, you were the closest to Natasha, Tony and Steve--the three people who had given you this life. Soon you met Vision, Rhodey, Clint and Sam, and you got along with all of them quite well except Clint, whom you found a little annoying.

You were still undergoing training, so Tony put you on schedules with Natasha, who taught her widow techniques to you and Steve, who taught you how to make proper use of your body's natural strength. Sam was another great sparring partner, his flexibility and agility as a gymnast and athlete was fascinating to you and he was fun to talk to, always cracking jokes and treating you to lunch later.

You were the unofficial baby of the group so they all took turns to be protective over you and babysit you (you'd be lying if you said you didn't like that.) All of them were fond of how smart and polite you were, but at the same time fearful of your powers and did everything to avoid upsetting you as any tumultuous emotion caused you to lose control, destroying anything around you. You had accidentally burnt down a part of the kitchen when Clint wouldn't stop annoying you, a purple burst of irritation blazing the entire right side of the kitchen, narrowly missing the gas pipes.

Clint was banned from talking to you after that incident.

As for the school part, you did attend school and made new friends there as well- Peter Parker, Ned Leeds and MJ. You were an year older than them, but the school required you to retake your classes so you had to start in the same grade as them. This was your little bubble, the three of them keeping you company everyday and Aunt May spoiling you to her heart's content. You loved how motherly and caring she was, always looking forward to the days she'd invite you over for lunch or dinner or when you and Ned went to Peter's for a movie night.

Safe to say, you had settled in like you always belonged here. No interference from any titans or demons or gods, enjoying your mundane life with your new family and friends. You had gotten inspired to change your room as well-- your godly gifts also included being an amazing interior designer and innovator--so you turned your bed into a four poster with beige curtains hanging from it, an enchanted sky ceiling that showed you the constellations any time that you want, your bathroom was transformed into half covered by dark, moody purple tiles and you had casted a spell to increased the size of your room, turning it into a gym, or a kitchen, or a garden, if you had one of those days where the commotion in the compound became too much. Everyone was freaked out by the way you could transform things into whatever you wished to but they got over it soon, watching you in wonder and requesting the same for their rooms (which you politely declined because using too much of your powers exhausted you.)

Imagine the whiplash when a few months later, your family was arguing over some papers, had split into two, had asked you to pick a side, and were now fighting against each other in the middle of an airport.

Steve had told you about his best friend, Bucky, when you came across an article of them on the internet. Now, you knew who he was and what happened to him, but hearing it from Steve, who had lived to see what happened, was an experience and it gave you the real story instead of the gossip-y and juicy stories squeezed out by media outlets. When you saw the news that Bucky had assassinated King T’Chaka, it was a shock. You didn’t believe he could’ve done that. In fact, you didn’t blame Bucky for whatever he did for most of his life.

But when that man in the footage looked eerily familiar to Bucky, who was going to listen to a 16 year old new recruit?

Tony and Steve argued. Steve, Sam and Natasha broke the law for Bucky and were branded as criminals. The rest of them picked sides. Tony supporting the accords, Steve being against it. And your family broke apart. Now you must be wondering, what did you do?

You opted out. It went against your morals and your affection for the team. The betrayal you felt, when Wanda chose to broke out of the compound and join Steve, was something serious. You hadn’t expected that to happen and you surely hadn’t expected for Clint to be an even bigger asshole and convince Wanda to break out. You argued with the two of them but they did not give you a chance to placate, leaving in a haste while Wanda put Vision six feet under ground when he tried to stop her. If she could do that to Vision, whom she liked, you didn't want to imagine what she could've done to you.

Rhodey had asked you for a last time, whether you wanted to join them or not. You strongly opposed, stating that you’d stay in the compound or at a friend’s. After Wanda left, you were originally going to stay back but then you received May’s call, that Peter had left for a study tour and you straightened up in alarm. There was no study tour. You packed up an overnight bag and left for Queens, choosing to spend the night with May instead.

Come morning, May was rightfully worried as Peter’s phone wasn’t working anymore and he didn’t answer any of her calls or texts. You were proper annoyed. You just had a hunch that he was at the airport, but when you summoned a connection through the mist—it was confirmed. There he was, in Tony’s private jet, on his way to Germany.

See, you always found his excuses for missing out on stuff dumb, the nervousness and lies practically bleeding through his clothes and body. But you chose to humour him, not wanting to stress him out. But there he was, sitting in the jet, in a fucking Spider-Man suit. As if that’s not a big deal.

You were worried you’d scare May off by accidentally blasting out your powers, so you decided to meditate instead. You stayed with her for the whole day, keeping her company and distracting her. And the next day, you received an alert on your watch from FRIDAY that everyone had returned. You hastily took May’s leave and arrived at the compound to find out—a whole chunk of your family was missing, Tony was sporting a black eye and a broken arm, and him and Natasha looking at you with grim faces.

“What the hell happened?”, you muttered carefully, the compound’s common area was way too quiet.

Tony looked away in guilt, Natasha looked at you in concern.

“Hey…are you okay?”, she asked tentatively, as if preparing you for the worst.

“Nat, I asked you something. What the hell happened? Where is everyone?”, your voice wavered, a lump lodged in your throat.

Tony shook his head, avoiding your eyes at all costs while Nat let out a tired sigh.

“Well, to cut the story short—Steve, Clint, Sam and Bucky are in the raft. They are declared as criminals of the state”, your eyes widened in shock, “Wanda and Vision are on the run. Don’t know where they are right now.”

“What the fuck? Tony? What—and what happened to you? Where’s Rhodey? What even happened between you all?”, you growled, irritated with Tony’s non-verbal stance.

Tony took a deep breath before finally meeting your eye, his black eye making it difficult for him to focus without wincing.

“Rhodey…got shot out of the sky. Paralysed from the lower spine and below. He’s getting operated on right now. Might— Will need prosthetics. And uh-I fought with Cap and Barnes”, his voice was low and heavy with guilt, like he was already blaming himself for everything.

Your eyes widened, “What”, you breathed out, “How—what the fuck even happened, how did it escalate so badly? Huh?”, your voice rose in anger, eyes lightly glowing a muted purple, a purple-blue flame simmering at your fingertips.

Natasha held up her hands to placate you, “Hey—kid, it’s okay. I know this is a lot—”

“Of fucking course, it’s a lot! What were you guys thinking? All of this over a piece of fucking paper? And now—now most of them are on the run, are wanted as criminals and in the hospital? And Tony—”, you pointed a finger at him, “what was Peter doing there?!”

Tony’s eyes widened in surprise, “How—”

“Yeah. He’s my friend. And my classmate. And I have powers that help me track down someone who’s miles away from me”, the flame at your fingertips was slowly engulfing your hand, your eyes turning a brighter purple now. Natasha came close to you, her hand slowly settling on your shoulders in support.

Tony swallowed, his face shifting in pain, “I’m sorry. I’m really—I don’t know what to say, kid. What’s happened, happened. We—I fucked up. I’ll…I’ll try fixing it”, his eyes turned glassy by the end of that sentence and he turned back, walking away from you and Natasha.

You gritted your teeth and clenched your hands into tight fists, your eyes glowing a brighter purple now. The lights started flickering, a few scattered objects and frames shaking, Natasha looked at you in shock and fear.

“Hey-hey, hey, come on. Look at me—(Name), come on. Don’t do this. It’ll be alright. I got you, sweetheart”, Natasha said in a gentle voice, wrapping you in her safe arms. You closed your eyes in resignation, hands relaxing, the common area going back to normal, and you leaned into Natasha, a few tears slipping from your eyes.

You weren’t afraid of being alone, no. But you were human. And somehow, you were that one defective child of Hecate that craved for human connection. You had already lost your blood family. You had to leave behind your half family. And now? Now your found family was broken too. And slowly, your brain started working overtime to convince you that maybe, maybe you were the problem.

2018

2 years since your family broke up. 3 since you became an Avenger.

A lot had changed since then.

You grew up, of course. You were 18 and you were a trained Avenger now. Which meant you could assist the rest of them on missions.

But it was of no use because Steve, Sam, Bucky, Wanda, Vision, Clint—they were all still estranged from the rest of you. You found out about Scott, who was put on house arrest along with Clint. You found out that Bucky was in Wakanda, undergoing treatment for his arm and the trigger words. You were really happy when you found out about that. Natasha was also on the run with Steve and Sam. You didn’t know where they went, originally. Rhodey had recovered, his new prosthetics helping him move around easily.

Steve and Tony had made up, for the most of it. Steve sent a letter and a burner phone for Tony to call him on, which felt awfully similar to an exes to lovers thing. You also found out that Steve had lied about Bucky killing Tony’s parents. That one gave you a massive shock. You couldn’t believe that Steve could do something stupid and...immoral like that. And suddenly, you understood Tony’s anger towards him and Bucky.

But he had already forgiven Steve and the others, that much was clear. It was clear to you the moment you saw him in the sling and black eye 2 years ago, his shoulders drawn in like a small child, and you sensed it immediately on him. That was the thing about Tony, he was quick to take all the blame on him and forgive others in his own begrudging and annoying way.

Then you confronted Peter about his superhero activities.

He stuttered his way through the confession and you eventually stopped grilling him, taking pity on his poor face that was red with nervousness, and decided to let him in your secret. He was positively buzzing then, unable to wrap his head around the fact that his best friend was a "fucking--demi-god/demi-titan, whatever, oh my god!" (his words, not yours.) He even made you show your powers to him, ooh-ing at every single spell that you cast in Latin and Greek and the purple shimmer of your magic.

You decided to train yourself harder, wanting to be prepared the next time your help is required in any mission. Practicing with the book of spells and witchcraft that your mother, Hecate, had gifted you after a quest, with your room shut out from the outside world, the smells of burning incense and herbs permeating your bones and every corner of the room. Tony would be freaked out at your training rituals but you assured him that it was just for concentration purposes.

Chiron would contact you every now and then, you would chat with him, Annabeth, Grover and Percy and that would make you feel lighter. They kept you entertained and updated about the stuff happening around the camp or in their lives, with Grover--being your favourite gossiper--subtly hinting at Percy and Annabeth getting closer to admitting their very obvious crushes on each other. That made you happy and sad at the same time because you couldn’t witness that first hand.

You even introduced them to Tony and Peter. Tony and Annabeth had a long nerdy conversation, after which Tony told you that he was greatly impressed and asked if he could give her an internship, while Grover and Percy had a great time exchanging memes and pop culture with Peter.

It was pretty mundane for these two years. You gelled in with Pepper and Happy, becoming an unofficial member of the Stark family along with Peter, who was also an intern at Stark industries now, you kept an eye on Steve and the others, just to reassure yourself that they were okay, although Wanda was keeping you out, wanting to stay hidden for longer and Bucky was still undergoing his treatment. Sometimes you'd see him step out of his hut and feed the sheep, play with the kids, take walks with Princess Shuri minus his metallic arm, but most importantly—you were happy to see that he looked healthy.

But then came the ugly purple giant and his army of equally nasty alien soldiers and ruined your life. You went to space with Tony, he was fully against it but you insisted, because your powers could actually be helpful against an extraterrestrial. You fought along side Tony, Peter and the Guardians. You even came close to removing the godforsaken gauntlet from Thanos' hand.

But then it suddenly ended. Time stopped. And everyone started disappearing.

Peter disappeared into a pile of ash right in front of you and Tony, departing with a quiet 'I'm Sorry' and you waited for the same to happen to you, but it never came. You leaned back against the debris of the fallen moon, your blown wide in a state of shock, hands shaking violently while Tony tried to bring you back to life.

You were stuck in that space ship with him and Nebula for god knows how long. Tony's cheeks were hollowed, skin pale, movements slower and you couldn't bear to watch that. You weren't doing any better. You had gone quiet and sluggish, half heartedly listening to Tony and Nebula playing a game of paper football. He fed you the remaining rations, forcing you to eat but eventually he lost his own energy, filming one last message in the helmet of his Iron suit and leaned back into the pilot seat in exhaustion. You had passed out long back, falling unconscious with hunger and the lack of energy or hope.

You opened your eyes to a white ceiling, eyes straining against the curtain of exhaustion and confusion, your body weak and limp on the soft bed. You noticed a figure move in the corner of your eye and notice a mop of blonde hair, the whole scene giving you a sense of deja vu, and then you heard his voice.

"Kid?", your eyes flew open. Steve was sitting next to you. Alive. It's been 2 years since you saw him. Your eyes welled up with tears and he laid an empathetic hand on your shoulder, thumb rubbing it gently to soothe you.

"W-where are the others..", you managed to get out and his face turned solemn.

"Nat, Clint, Scott, Rhodey, Bruce--they're all here. The rest..", he trailed off and shook his head. It was enough to make you aware of the situation, swallowing harshly against the lump in your throat as you froze.

Your chest ached as you realised-- you had lost half of your family once again.

2023

It's been 5 years since the snap. 5 years since you lost your family again and 5 years of you wallowing in your sorrows, your magic slowly inching towards a darker side. All that anger, sadness and frustration was simmering beneath your blood, ready to unleash at any moment.

Steve and Natasha kept you close, keeping a vigilant eye on you--almost helicopter parenting you--which was funny, because you were 23 years old now. Tony had retired. Completely given up. He had chosen a secluded cabin and shifted there after his and Pepper's marriage. You were glad he took the decision. But a part of you felt angry, because you couldn't have that luxury and you couldn't check on Camp Half-Blood either, the fear of attracting more monsters making you paranoid.

So you simply sat back and observed, waiting for the right moment to strike back, your magic pulsing beneath your veins, waiting to be released.

Slowly, people started joining--Thor came back extremely depressed with a talking raccoon who was a part of the Guardians' team, then there was Carol Danvers, who was cool and looked every bit of the leader that she is, and suddenly it was a full house again.

You, Steve, Natasha and Scott had gone to convince Tony to help out when Bruce's (or Professor Hulk's, honestly that was a little scary to you) attempts at making a time machine failed miserably. When you reached the cabin, you stopped dead in your tracks at the visual.

Tony and Pepper had a daughter now, the sight of him cuddled up with her making your eyes well up with tears, wishing you had the same. It was difficult to convince him, naturally, with him having a family now.

"I'm really happy for you, Tony", you whispered and gave him a soft smile, waving a hand to Morgan who shyly returned it before running back inside, "But please, think about it. It's been five years", you requested him and he pursed his lips, the gray in his hair catching the light and his brown eyes glassy with emotion. You knew he would join you. You knew you were asking a lot from him, that he wouldn't sleep peacefully if he did this.

And he did do it. He made time travel possible. And he remade the gauntlet. Only Tony Stark could make it happen. All of you, joined by Clint, went back in time, to gather those stones. And Clint returned without Natasha. It took Tony and Steve together to calm you down before you destroyed the entire set up. You didn't even get time to recover from it when the entire compound collapsed. It was infiltrated and attacked by Thanos and his army again.

You had exhausted yourself thoroughly, casting spells left and right to protect someone or to kill an alien. You protected Clint when he had the gauntlet in his hand, you protected Nebula when she was attacking another alien, you conjured a spell to create the Empousai, who sucked the blood out of the aliens, you used your pyrokinetic powers to light up anything on fire and deflect attacks, you even tried to use your time manipulation powers to reverse the events but the stones and Thanos' power was too strong, him using the power stone to fling you across the field where you dropped down harshly, knocking against the hard ground violently.

That's when you saw, felt and heard, the buzz of a million spirals in the field, the magic of the mystical arts, cast by Strange, Wong and their supporters and you faintly made out blurry figures whizz past you. Suddenly a strong hand clamped around your arm, pulling you up slowly and letting you lean against them, your eyes flying open in surprise when you saw that it was Bucky.

This meant that everyone was back. Bucky handed you over to Tony, who helped you sit up and you heard a thwip above you, hands helping the two of you stand up, the field around you was engulfed in chaos and sounds of pain and fighting. When the person started speaking, you and Tony snapped your heads up to stare at Peter.

Your best friend, Peter. Tony's son, Peter.

The two of you were crying, listening to Peter's nerdy ramble with fond attention before Tony wrapped him up in a hug, Peter quieting down and returning the hug, his eyes closed in contentment and he grabbed your arm to pull you in, the three of you embracing each other in silence.

You thought everything was okay now. You thought it was over and all of you could go home, try to mend each other again, when suddenly a bright light blinded you, your concentration breaking and hands coming up to cover your face. When the light faded away, you noticed that it was too quiet.

Everyone had stopped fighting, looking at each other helplessly, trying to figure what just happened when you heard a sound of metal against metal, a body dragging down a piece of debris. You whipped your head to the side to see--Tony. His right side was charred and gray, like he had walked through a wild fire, his eyes were blank, body language sluggish and exhausted.

You felt it--His heartbeat was slower. His breathing too thin. You could feel his soul fighting to stay alive, and you fell to your knees, Steve's arms coming around you to keep you grounded, your eyes brimmed with tears and face damp with them as you saw Rhodey, Pepper and Peter say their goodbyes to Tony.

Peter was held back by Rhodey, his body shaking violently with sobs, Pepper was murmuring something and every single person standing around them had tears in their eyes. You crawled over to Tony, placing a careful hand on his cold forehead, and you whispered a soothing spell, one that would lessen his pain in his last moments.

"Thank you for everything, T", you whispered wetly, his blank eyes shining with tears as he tried to move his head to look at you and abruptly stood up, crying into Steve's shoulder for god knows how long.

As if losing two of the most important people in your life wasn't enough, right after Tony's funeral ended, Steve decided to leave you.

He left you, Sam and Bucky behind, without any warning. Well, you assumed Bucky knew but Steve had still betrayed you and Sam. He left the shield behind with Sam, passing the mantle of Captain America to him. You felt proud but empty, unable to celebrate as you were shaking with annoyance at Steve's nonchalance and ignorance.

"Take care and don't underestimate yourself. You still have a family", he told you and gestured towards the two men standing at the end of the grassy path, the wrinkles and white hair making him look like a stranger.

In a way, he was a stranger. This wasn't the same Steve Rogers that you knew. You had walked away furiously, your chest hurting with the pain and frustration. Sam and Bucky watched you leave helplessly, the three of you caught in the same dilemma.

First it was your dad. Then it was Natasha. Then Tony. And now Steve.

Your life had completely uprooted itself and you weren't the same anymore. So as Hecate and fate would have it, you went back to your old friend: isolation.

2024

Yeah alright, you had said you would isolate yourself blah blah blah.

But turns out, you can’t resist Sam Wilson, with his big brown eyes and gentle voice working overtime to convince you. He had been the one to coax you out of your depressed state and the dingy apartment that you lived in (that wasn’t dingy at all on the inside, but the exterior helped you to stay undercover. Sam lost his mind when he discovered that you could do the decor stuff too.)

You’d been out of service for a whole year, choosing to keep to yourself, keeping your head down, leaving your apartment only to go for grocery runs or food—that’s all. You didn’t contact anybody, didn’t take up any assignments, didn’t use your magic for saving-the-world-purposes-nothing. You felt like an empty shell of your previous self and there was an ever lasting ache in your heart, your mind constantly sending signals that something—someone was missing.

But when Sam came knocking on your door, scolding you for being off the grid and so difficult to track, he managed to convince you to join him and Bucky for a small party at Sam’s hometown.

You refused, shutting him down quickly. He observed you closely with the eyes of a soldier then--taking in your black sweats, dark blue oversized hoodie dwarfing your body, the bags under your eyes, the smell of lavender and herbs that seemed to stick to you, the dim yet large ambience of your home, the constant fidgeting with your hands--and he let out a big sigh, his heart squeezing with empathy for you.

In way you reminded him of Bucky, who was nothing less than a wounded animal in the initial days. That’s what you looked like.

He then tried to break you by telling you that Bucky wanted you to come, knowing you had wanted to talk to him for a long time, and you perked up at that, reluctantly agreeing to his invitation and also because you couldn't say no to Sam's big-eyed-kicked-puppy-look anymore.

You went to Louisiana with him and joined his family’s cookout. Sam encouraged you to dress up and you did it for him, making yourself presentable after months--wearing a striped blue and white shirt, paired with your most comfortable pair of jeans, your favourite shoes, a brown handbag that Natasha had gifted you, your hair pulled up in a neat hairstyle and your face touched up with light concealer (those eye bags were serious.)

When you got there, the entire place was bustling with happy families and deliciously smelling meals. You eventually spotted Bucky, noticing that his hair was shorter now, and he was playing with 2 teenaged boys. That brought a tiny smirk to your face, happy yet surprised to see him so free and excited like this. Bucky spotted you and ran over, shocked to see you. He tackled you in a hug, a surprised squeal leaving your mouth before you returned the gesture. Sam’s sister and his nephews welcomed you with opened arms, making you forget your pain and suffering for sometime.

That night, you hugged Sam close and cried into his shoulder, him reassuring you that he’d stick around and that he wanted you to work with them. After Sam went to bed, you sat by the dock and looked at the water, the moonlight making it sparkle and Bucky joined you, the two of you chatting for a while before he extended his hand for a possible friendship and acquaintance, and you hesitantly but happily accepted.

This is how you began your new journey, with your new family.

Chapter 2

AN: whewwww this was a lot! I'm sorry if this was rushed but there's so much content i wanna fit in it and a lot of characters too! i hope you understand <3 i hope i did justice to the characters and the original material!! Please like and reblog and let me know your thoughts.🥹

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doctorcurdlejr · 1 year ago

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Worst mom in riverdale?

INNOCENT MOTHERS

Toni Topaz - Baby Anthony wanted to do all that stuff

Mary Andrews - Not her fault she was having gay sex in the city while her ex husband instilled The Cycles in their son. In fact she wanted Archie with her in Chicago (if memory serves)

FORGIVEN MOTHERS, EXCUSED OF THEIR CRIMES

Gladys Jones - Called Archie and Jughead gay to their faces while wearing leather (Bound 1996 reference)

Hermione Lodge - Became a Real Housewife of New York, bringing joy to thousands if not millions

Alice Cooper - She was literally born on the wrong side of the tracks and then saved an entire plane of people by taking over the controls after the pilot fell ill... So you literally can't hold the manslaughter, aiding, abetting, libel, undercover cult indoctrination, or bad parenting against her she looked HOT while she did it all. Like, CHRIST, can't a woman be IMPERFECT?

Polly Cooper - She had at least ten lobotomies, was the victim of like every crime imaginable, and still managed to build a huge support system for her children. That her kids were attacking classmates with a rock is evidence that she was preparing them to be self sufficient citizens of Riverdale, frankly.

WORST MOTHER, BY ORDER OF ELIMINATION

Penelope Blossom - Unlike other criminal entrepreneurs, such as cloth mother (Hermione Lodge) and wire mother (Gladys Jones), her child was forced to repeatedly put her down like a rabid dog. Then she became a lesbian nun, which is kind of a step down for somebody who used to wear what bordered on full drag to run a brothel. In my opinion.

#riverdale #toni topaz #mary andrews #gladys jones #hermione lodge #alice cooper #polly cooper #penelope blossom #asks

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celaenaeiln · 2 years ago

Text

Robin Dick Grayson Characterization

I'm not sure how or where this started but there's been a rampant misunderstanding of Dick Grayson as Robin.

For some reason there have been posts upon posts that dick was some kind of angry robin and I don't know where this is coming from because in every single comic Dick is said to be the happy one. It seems to be a Covid craze because such defamation was not even in existance before 2020. Every one of the comics - Justice League, Batman, Detective Comics, Nightwing Comics, Jason's comics, Tim's comics, all of them! Talk about Dick being the happiest of the robins.

Some people say that he wanted to avenge his parents death by killing Tony Zucco. However Dick could never do that. John and Mary raised their son better than that.

Batman: Legends of the Dark Knight Issue #100

Where do you see a raging blood-soaked boy fanon makes him out to be?

The biggest supporter of happy Dick comes from Alfred so if you're going around claiming Dick was angry, you're literally spitting on his grave because Alfred ADORED Dick. He thought of Dick as the sole reason for Bruce's happiness which made him love Dick even more.

Alfred is Dick's biggest advocator. When Bruce is hesitant in his initial days of Robin - Alfred says