#mutant!reader

[tremendouscreationperson]

Logan x Reader pt.1

Again spoilers for Deadpool and Wolverine

Many of y'all liked my little DP/W idea so here is more, I tried to keep it GN so there isn't smut but it does sorta allude to it

Part 2 >> Masterlist

Wade has just woke up, he yet again sees Logan drinking and asks 'where they are and how they got here'. Logan vaguely points to the door and three people walk through. It's Elektra, Blade and Gambit. There are some not-so-pleasantries and eventually Laura makes herself known.

"We're missing Johnny and Y/N." Gambit drawls.

Wade makes a joke and turns back to Logan who looks like he's shat himself. "Peanut?"

"You said Y/N?" Logan settles his drink onto the first available surface and runs a hand through his hair. "We saw Johnny but not Y/N."

~~

Later on he had slumped down and made a fire. He didn't want to be part of the heroics, he couldn't be. He wasn't worth it. Laura had tried to convince him in her unique way. He could see himself in her, see why he'd fight for her.

Logan took another swig and stared off into the treeline. It was unclear how long he just sat but eventually he noticed movement.

Wolverine stood, ready to protect the others. Why was he ready to protect the others?

Then he saw you.

You were wide eyed. Your suit was practically undamaged except for a little cut on your thigh. Not a hair out of place. There was dirt on your face and body but you were beautiful.

"Y/N." He involuntarily took a step towards you.

You stayed completely still. Wary. Why were you wary of him? “Logan.” Your voice was barely above a whisper but he heard it. Would always hear you. You were the main voice rattling around his adamantium skull.

“Y/N.” He took another step forward and tried to erase his frown, tried to ease his expression into something you wouldn't be wary of. “I'm not going to hurt you.”

Your eyes scanned him and the trees behind before you gave a nod and slowly approached, favouring your right leg.

“It's been a while.” The fire light bounced gloriously off your skin, illuminating your very being as though you were an angel. Well you were. You were perfect. Are perfect.

“For me as well.” He nodded too enthusiastically, too eager to be speaking to you. He didn't deserve this.

You lowered yourself onto a patch of grass, crossing your legs to the best of your ability, pupils glued to the flames. They danced along and lit up your eyes. Surely, you couldn't be more beautiful. Logan hadn't even realised but he had sat himself back down on his perch across from you. “I’m sorry.”

He couldn't help it, his frown was back in full force. What could you possibly have to apologise for? “I don-”

“You're not the first Wolverine to come sniffing me out.” You explained. “There's been others and they've- they've not all been friendly.”

What the fuck had he done? “I swear, I am not here to hurt you.” He placed a hand over his heart. “I promise.”

“I know. I just- it's not often you see your husband's-” Husband? “- face and he doesn't know you or is feral or-” You took a deep breath, finally meeting his gaze. “You at least recognise me.”

“Of course I do.”

“Okay, that's good.” You nod mostly to yourself before asking, “what happened in your world?”

“My world?”

You nod again.

“We're X-Men. I'm shitty. You're perfect. Scott nags me. Storm married a king and moved away, visits every so often. Jean was in the process of taking over from Charles…” If he didn't tell you they all died, maybe they didn't. Maybe they could live in your head. Maybe he wasn't a monster. “Yours?”

“Much the same really.” One shoulder lifted in a half shrug. “‘cept you weren't shitty. You were just you. Sabertooth was the shitty Howlett.”

Logan chuckled at that.

“Did you have a Laura? Or a Gabby?”

He shook his head. “Uh, no. But I've met Laura. She's nice. Fierce.”

“She's your DNA spliced with some poor unfortunate ladies. Essentially your offspring.” You informed. “Gabby is a clone of a clone. She's lovely though. Friends with Wa-Deadpool.”

“He's here.” Logan scratched his chin. “He's the reason I am.”

“Oh, you're friends as well?”

“God, no.” He shook his head. “Kinda just thrust together.”

“He always wanted to hang with you but usually just ended up with Spidey.”

Logan had heard of Spidey -Spiderman- but he hadn't met the guy, yet. If he hung out with Wade he was probably just as mad.

You both fell into a fairly comfortable silence but he didn't like that. You were here. He could actually talk to you. Actually be around you. “What happened to your leg?” He motioned to it as you carefully repositioned yourself.

“Angel.” You whispered darkly.

“Warren?”

“Yeah. Sometimes your friends aren't your friends. He had metal wings and weird tattoos. I called out to him and he just attacked. He was so quick I couldn't put up a forcefield in time.”

“I'm sorry.” It was a lame response but he had nothing else. You merely sat there, watching him, scanning his reactions. “I don't know how to convince you I am your friend. But I am. I won't harm you.”

You gave him a small lopsided smile. And he remembered.

“Wait. I do know how.” Logan rummaged around his very tiny suit pockets. He knew it was somewhere. He made sure it was always on him. Hidden away where no one would find it. Tucked into a sleeve that he kept safe by his ankle, usually people hit his torso, they don't always go for feet so he felt secure in it's position. Well, he did until he fought Wade in that fucking Honda.

Logan found it. It was scrappy and definitely worse for wear but the picture was clear. He stood and slowly walked around the fire to your side. You didn't back away but he caught your involuntary shoulder flinch.

“Here.”

You delicately took the piece of paper from his hands. It felt glossy, like magazine print. It was folded and on the visible side was a photo of you smiling wide, proud, in front of the X mansion. You unfolded it to see Logan standing next to you with a barely-there smirk. He looked almost bored but you knew him. Knew he was smiling, it was in his eyes, the softness in his face.

You were confused because he was smiling yet it was clear that he folded it to hide himself.

“Why have you folded it like that?”

Because I look awful. Because you are perfect and happy and brilliant and I pretended I didn't want the photo. Because it's the only faculty photo of me they ever took. Because they all knew I was sweet on you when you stopped me for a photo and I agreed. Because I had to take this from a yearbook after the school was raided. Because it's the only photo of us that I have and I hate that I'm in it. “Easier to fit the little pocket.”

“I have a similar one.” You confessed, knowing he was lying but that's okay. You all had secrets. “It's with my other bits, in the base.”

He felt his cheeks warm so looked away to the base. “Speaking of, it's late and you're hurt. They were planning on leaving at sun up, but I'm not sure that's still happening.”

“Why are we leaving?”

“We're storming Cassandra Nova’s lair.”

You let out a full body laugh. The noise was heavenly. “Fuck off, you come here and suddenly talk them into a full frontal assault? Brilliant.”

He rolled his eyes at you but extended a hand. “Come on, bub, let's get you updated and checked out.”

It wasn't much really, not to a bystander, but you actually accepting his hand meant the world to him and you. Both for similar and completely different reasons.

He definitely didn't need to but insisted on helping you to the base. It was hardly worth it but being back in his arms was lovely. It felt like home. He was maybe a few inches taller and definitely a little older looking than you recalled but he was your Logan. And a helpful one. He wasn't chasing you like a wild dog because you smelt nice. He was helping you limp back.

“Y/N.” Elektra spoke as soon as you entered the threshold.

“El.” You smiled widely.

She gave you a subtle look - raising her eyebrows a fraction and flickering her eyes at Logan - before taking your hand and leading you out of his arms. “We were worried.”

“You shouldn't have worried.” Rolling your eyes. “You know me.”

“That is why I was worried.”

She gave you a quick hug and assessed your leg. You had known her for five years. She had been here longer than you, travelling with Blade, and quickly intervened when she saw a Ghost Rider trying to lasso you. You three had met Johnny, who had been here a while too, and eventually met Laura. She was the only familiar face to you, it was a breath of fresh air to see her. It was a shame she didn't know you but you explained who you were and where she was and she slowly came around to trusting you. Gambit was the newest addition to your ragtag gang. He, bless him, tried to be as useful as possible and you're sure he was but there were times when you had no idea what went on in his mind. He was his own enigma.

The cut wasn't awful, a fact you had said multiple times, but Elektra still insisted on using alcohol to clean and one of the rags you recycled from an old duvet to wrap it, explaining the idiotic plan that you were all taking part of as she went.

“Oh!” Wade loudly exclaimed as Elektra tightened the makeshift bandage. “The self insert! I can't believe it, the movie’s been out like three days!”

You exchanged a glance with El and gave him an odd look as you greeted the man. “Hiya Wade.”

“Y/N.” He bowed. “I'm a little star struck.”

“Why?” Elektra stood to her full height and quickly made an exit, this wasn't the first Deadpool she had seen but this was one of the high energy ones.

“Well, you're Logan's thing.” The man behind perked up, his shoulders tense. He had been watching you the whole time and clearly wasn't a fan of DP rambling. “You're his reason to keep on. One of the reasons my Logan saved Laura. To keep his promise to you or something like that, I don't know the writing is a bit clunky.”

“Right.” You nodded, not quite understanding. But it was funny to see the mortified expression Logan was wearing. “So I'm Logan's ‘thing’.”

“Well, duh-”

“Will you shut the fuck up?” Logan ordered.

“Gosh, was he always this snappy?” Wade chirped.

“I dunno, Lo always had a soft spot for me so..”

“Awwwww.” He clasped his hands and held them at his heart. “Did you hear that she said ‘Lo’?” Wade had just turned to see the man in question but Wolverine was behind him and quickly dragging the Merc away, not quite whispering another ‘shut your fucking mouth’.

Blade, who was one to skulk hidden in corners before making himself known, had watched the interaction and gave you a fright as he stepped from the shadows. “So that's him, huh?”

“Jesus!” You whisper-yelled. “How many times have I asked you to not do that?”

“Daywalker, can't help it.” He shrugged and sat next to you on the sofa. It was old and ugly but so so comfortable.

You gave a sigh, holding your hammering heart. “Yes. He's Logan. A version of him. That actually doesn't wanna kill me.”

“Maybe you should let it play out.”

“And maybe I shouldn't.” You counter. “We'll all be dead tomorrow anyway.”

“All the more reason to."

He was correct of course. You had missed Logan so much and this one clearly had missed you. It would be folly to not spend the last night you may be alive together. In whatever way you were both comfortable with. But you didnt want to give him the satisfaction of being right, so merely huffed in response.

"Elektra told you the plan?”

“Well, Laura hardly speaks and I can't understand Gambit.”

Blade let out a low laugh. He was one of the coolest people you'd ever met, even his chuckle was cool. You were so envious.

Logan came back with red cheeks and quickly apologised. “I'm sorry, he talks so much and I don't think he actually hears himself.”

You waved him off. “It's fine.”

“No, he embarrassed you.” Logan sighed, his jaw set like he was biting the inside of his cheek.

“Logan, really. Don't worry.” You could see that he wasn't going to 'not worry' so decided to just remove yourself from the situation. Clapping Blade’s leg you stood. “Right, bed time. Big day tomorrow.”

“You aren't coming.” Logan replied immediately.

“Uhm. Pretty sure I am.”

“No, you're injured.” He stated as though that was obvious.

“This is literally the smallest injury I've had out here.”

“But you are hurt.”

“Logan.”

“Y/N.”

Blade watched the back and forth with a smirk, you were both clearly a married couple.

“I think you two should take this to Y/N’s room.” Your eyes widened dramatically. “You can argue all night when the door is shut and no one else can hear you.” The sly bastard.

“Okay.” Logan agreed. “I'll convince you to stay, where's your room?”

You let out a few noises, dying arguments, and then the biggest sigh. “Fuck my life. This way.”

The base was an old temple. You had wondered who it belonged to. The statues of her were beautiful. You had yet to see a variant of whoever this was, maybe that was a good thing. She might not take lightly to you guys using her sacred temple as a hotel. There were a few corridors you had to walk down to get to your room. You'd dragged an old mattress into it and made sure to keep the room dust free. There weren't a lot of luxuries in this world but you had an orb that when touched lit up delicately. There were a few sets of clothes you'd scavenged so you kept yourself clean and had a set of ‘pjs’. Your room was covered in marks where you had flung a knife or practised a forcefield. He assumed there weren't that many guns here, or if there were ammo was rare.

“You can't fight.” Logan started.

Oh. You were actually going to argue. “Logan, I could fight you right now.”

“Go on then.” He called your bluff.

You gave him a playful smirk. “You really wanna fight? It could be our last day alive and you wanna spend it fighting?”

“I know you can't fight with that leg.” He was so sure of himself. You couldn't wait to prove him wrong.

With a twitch of your hand you flung him towards you with a forcefield, side stepping out of his way. It took him by surprise how strong you had gotten and he had to catch himself before he hit the wall.

Logan twisted around to find you at his throat with a small blade in your hand. Your chest pressed into his, causing his back to hit the wall. “That was over pretty quick, Lo.”

Logan was in awe of your swift moves. You were tenfold who he knew. God could you get more attractive? He felt himself get warm and not from embarrassment. You were making him hot, you holding a knife to his throat was making him horny. What did that say about him?

Your eyebrows pinched minutely as you observed him swallow. “You like this, don't you?”

Was there a point in lying? “Maybe.”

“Well... Maybe I do, too.”

God he was ruined.

You were literally amazing.

How could he be so lucky? He really didn't deserve this.

Logan glanced down to your lips and you smirked. "Go on." He didn't need any other invitations. He captured your lips and kissed you with the full force of his years of loneliness.

He loved you, by god, he did.

Logan's left hand found your nape whilst his right landed on your ass. He growled as you pushed into him a fraction more.

Your leg moved by itself, wrapping around his waist as you took advantage of his growl. Kissing the exposed areas of his neck. You'd missed this. You'd missed him.

Logan hoisted you the rest of the way up and gazed into your eyes. You were looking down at him, lips plump and cheeks hot, you panted a little and fuck. He was going to fuck you. He wasn't sure he could actually pull himself away from you. You both should be sleeping, preparing for the fight tomorrow. No, you shouldn't be fighting. You should be safe. Somewhere safe and warm, waiting for him to return.

"Come with me." He begged.

"I'm sure I will." You winked.

"No, tomorrow, after the fight. Come with me, wherever I end up." He didn't want to go back but he would if you followed. If you came with him he could do it. Go anywhere. Be anyone.

"So you agree I'm fighting fit." You pecked his nose, playfully.

He huffed but found your lips again, leading you both to the mattress you called a bed.

He'd buy you a bed, a grand one. One worthy of you. He hated that you only had this. He needed to provide for you. Keep you warm, safe, loved, full. Keep you.

Logan was going to keep you and he didn't care how.

.

.

Part 2

[sergeantbarnessdoll]

Hi! Can I please request a Bucky x fem!reader where she is a mutant (from present day) with the ability to time travel, but she does not know how to control/use her powers, so she accidentally sends herself all the way back to the 40s and she doesn’t know how to send herself back. She meets Bucky and Steve and they quickly become her best friends and also take her in because she has no where to live (due to her time traveling there, but they don’t know that) and her and Bucky fall in love and get married. After losing both her husband, Bucky, and her best friend, Steve (she, like the rest of the world, has no clue either of them survived) her grief starts up her powers again and she finds herself back to present day, right smack dab in the middle of the Avengers HQ while they’re having a meeting about Bucky (this is after he has been captured, when Zemo is about to talk to him). The Avengers are 100% ready to fight this perceived threat that just came out of nowhere, but Steve, after taking a second to process (he is BAFFLED), realizes that this is one of his best friends, his other best friend’s wife, from the 40s, and Y/n just starts crying and throws herself into his arms because her best friend is alive 🥺 He’d be so shook to hear that she was never actually from the 40s, but from present day. Anyway, when Zemo triggers the Winter Soldier to come out, when Steve and Sam bring him to that warehouse and have his arm trapped so he can’t move, Y/n comes along with them and sees her husband (who she thought was dead) for the first time since the 40s (for her it hasn’t been that long though because she time traveled back to present day right after losing him and Steve, so the grief is fresh) and Bucky immediately starts crying because his wife is there 🥺 (Steve 100% knows right then and there that he’s speaking to Bucky, not Winter Soldier)

Together Again » Bucky Barnes/Winter Soldier

Pairings: 40s Bucky Barnes x Mutant/Enhanced!Female Reader with Pre Serum Steve Rogers, Husband!Bucky Barnes x Wife/Mutant/Enhanced!Reader with Steve Rogers/Captain America and the Avengers

Summary: Your somehow loose control with your time travel abilities and it sends you all the way to the 1940s and you end up meeting Bucky and Steve. After hearing the devastating news about your husband’s death and disappearance of your best friend, or so you thought, your abilities send you back to the time period you’re supposed to be in and find out your husband and best friend have been alive the whole time and you two are finally together again.

Warnings: Fluff, language, crying, kissing, pet names

A/N: Thank you for the beautifully detailed request @kpopgirlbtssvt 🩵

Written on my phone. My apologies for any mistakes.

GIFS ARE NOT MINE! Gif credits go to the creators.

You’re still trying to get used to having the ability to time travel. You don’t know how to control them yet and you ended up time traveling to a time period you’ve never been to. You looked around frantically. You were in an alleyway, but you don’t know where. You ran out of the alleyway to find something to tell you where you are and what time period you’re in. You looked around, seeing old cars and not as many businesses as the time period you’re supposed to be in.

“Ma’am?” You heard a voice from behind you.

You yelped and turned around, seeing two guys. One is a tall brunette and the other one is a blonde who’s about the same height as you. Both of them have blue eyes.

“Are you lost?” The brunette asks.

“Very. I’ve never been here before.” You say. “Can you guys tell me where I am?” You asked politely, trying to stay calm.

“Brooklyn, New York.” The blonde tells you.

“What year is it?” You asked curiously.

“You don’t know what year it is?” The brunette asks.

You shook your head no.

“It’s February 1941.” The brunette tells you.

Your eyes widened and your heart started to thud in your chest. You looked around, trying to gather your surroundings. That’s when you realized you were getting judgmental stares from anyone who walked past you.

“Why- Why’s everyone staring at me?” You asked.

“I think it’s because of what you’re wearing.” The blonde says.

You frowned and looked down at your outfit. You’re wearing a sweatshirt, black leggings, and your favorite sneakers. What’s wrong with that? Your mind was all over the place that you completely forgot that women in the 1940s don’t wear clothes like what you’re currently wearing.

“How about you come home with us so you’ll be warm and I’ll get you something to where?” The brunette suggests.

You stared at the two men for a few seconds before nodding your head. You walked with them, both of them on either side of you.

“What are your names?” You asked.

“I’m James, but everyone I know calls me Bucky.” Bucky introduces himself.

“And I’m Steve.” Steve introduces himself. “What’s your name?” He asks.

“Y/N.” You tell them.

When you got to their apartment, you looked around and sat down on the couch, nervously played with your fingers.

“Bucky will be back in a little bit. He went to his parents house to see what his sister has for you to wear.” Steve says, handing you a glass of water.

You smiled and accepted the glass of water.

“You don’t talk much, do you?” He says.

You nodded.

“It’s ok. I understand. I used to be like that before Bucky and I became friends.” He says.

You smiled at how understanding Steve is. You and Steve maintained a great conversation till Bucky got home.

“My sister gave me a few options for you to choose from.” Bucky handed you a few hangers of outfits. “You can change in my bedroom. It’s at the end of the hall.” He says.

You smiled and went to Bucky’s bedroom. You laid the outfits on his bed and looked at them, trying to decide which one you should wear. You settled with a floral skirt with a matching short sleeved blouse. You put it on and looked down at it, smoothing it out with your hands. You went back to the living room.

“What do you guys think?” You asked.

“You look beautiful, Y/N.” Steve compliments with a smile.

Bucky’s jaw dropped. He was stunned by your beauty. He’s never seen a woman as beautiful as you.

“What do you think, Bucky?” You asked.

Bucky is still stunned. Steve poked his cheek to get his attention. He swatted his hand away, making you giggle.

“You’re drop dead gorgeous, doll.” Bucky finally compliments.

“Thank you.” You blushed.

A smile formed on Bucky’s face the more he looked at you. He knew he that you, him, and Steve are going to be great friends. Actually, Bucky wants more with you. He can see a future with you.

Shortly after that day, Bucky and Steve let you move in with them. You still haven’t told them that you have the ability to time travel and you’re not actually from that time period. You have a feeling that they won’t believe you. You might as well be honest with them and tell them.

“Bucky? Steve? I need to tell you guys something.” You say nervously.

“What is it, doll?” Bucky asks.

“I haven’t told you guys everything about me.” You say.

“What do you mean?” Steve asks.

“Promise you guys will believe me?” You asked.

They nodded.

“I’m not actually supposed to be in this time period.” You tell them.

“Of course you do, doll.” Bucky put a comforting hand on your knee. “You belong here.” He says softly.

“That’s sweet of you to say, Bucky, but I’m serious. I’m not actually supposed to be in the 1940’s.” You say.

“If you think you’re not supposed to be in our time period, what time period do you think you’re supposed to be in?” Steve asks.

“In between the 2010s and 2020s.” You say.

Bucky’s and Steve’s eyes went wide when they heard those years.

“You’re supposed to be almost 100 years in the future?” Steve asks.

You nodded.

“The only way you’d get from the future all the way back here is time travel.” Bucky says.

You stared at them, waiting for them to realize it, in which they did. Both of them had shocked looks on their faces.

“Did you use a Time Machine to get here?” Steve asks.

“Not exactly.” You answered. “The time period where I’m supposed to be in has superpowers and abilities. Those who have superpowers or abilities are enhanced or mutants.” You explained.

“Which one are you?” He asks.

“I’m a mutant.” You tell them.

“You don’t look like a mutant.” Bucky says.

“You look like a normal human like us.” Steve says.

“Thank you, guys.” You smiled.

“Which do you have? Superpowers or abilities?” Bucky asks.

“Abilities.” You answered.

“What are your abilities?” He asks.

“I have the ability to time travel, but I don’t know how to control them.” You explained. “So now, I guess I’m stuck here.” You say.

Bucky’s and Steve’s minds are completely blown right now. They always thought that superpowers and abilities were fictional in the books they’ve read. They would’ve never guessed that they’re real.

“Do you guys believe me?” You asked nervously.

“Of course we do, doll.” Bucky smiles.

You smiled and hugged them.

A few weeks go by and you’re still getting used to life in the 1940s. Bucky and Steve are making it easier for you to adjust to this time period. Also, you’ve started to develop a crush on Bucky. Bucky has the same crush on you as well.

“Hey, Bucky. What’re you reading?” You asked, walking in his bedroom and sat down on his bed next to him.

“Reading The Hobbit.” Bucky says.

You couldn’t help but giggle.

“What’re you laughing about, doll face?” He asks in a playful voice.

“You reading The Hobbit.” You giggled again. “That makes you a nerd.” You joked playfully.

“There’s no need for name calling, doll.” He says, still sounding playful.

“What’re you going to do about it, James?” You playfully taunted.

Bucky grabbed you, pulling you onto his lap and started tickling you. You giggled and squirmed on his lap.

“Bucky, st-stop!” You giggled.

“Nope! This is what you get for calling me a nerd.” He says.

“You- You didn’t let me fin-finish.” You laughed. “I-I think you’re a cute nerd.” You say.

Bucky stopped tickling you. You laid across his lap, trying to catch your breath.

“You’re cute too, babydoll.” Bucky says softly, gently cupping your cheek.

“Really? Even if I’m a mutant?” You asked.

“Yes.” He whispers.

Silence filled the bedroom. You and Bucky gazed in each other’s eyes. You sat upright and sat next to him. You leaned in at the same time as Bucky. You two kissed passionately. His lips felt so soft against yours. You and Bucky were breathless when he pulled away.

“Woah…” You say, completely speechless.

Bucky chuckles lightly. He then cups your cheek.

“Do you want to be my girlfriend?” Bucky asks softly.

“Yes.” You smiled.

Bucky smiles and pecks your lips a few times.

———

“I can’t believe we’re married.” You say, staring at the ring on your finger.

“You better believe it, doll. This is our life now.” Bucky smiles. “Mrs. Barnes.” He says softly.

“Mr. Barnes.” You say with a smile.

———

“Do you have to go?” You asked.

“You know I have to, doll.” Bucky whispers, gently caressing your cheek.

“I’m going to miss you.” You whispered, tears rolling down your cheeks.

Bucky kissed you softly and sweetly.

“I’ll be home before you know it, babydoll.” He whispers.

“I love you, James.” You whispered.

“I love you too, doll.” He whispers back.

———

“Stevie!” You smiled happily when you opened the door.

“Hi, Y/N.” Steve says.

You hugged him tightly. You looked outside, expecting Bucky to be with Steve, but he wasn’t which confused you.

“Where’s Bucky?” You asked, looking at Steve.

Steve looks down and sighs, dreading that he has to tell you what he’s about to tell you.

“Y/N…” He begins softly.

“No.” You said. “I know what you’re about to say. Bucky is not dead.” You say, your voice cracking.

“I’m so sorry, but he is.” He says.

“He said he’d come home to me!” You cried.

Steve wrapped his arms around you, holding you tightly.

“Tell me how he died.” You say.

“He- he fell off a train. I tried to get him, but he fell before I could get to him.” Steve tells you, his voice cracking. “I’m so sorry.” He whispers.

Steve couldn’t stay after that. He had to go back to the Army. You laid in bed, trying to process your husband’s death. You gazed at the picture of you and him on yours and his wedding day. Your bottom lip quivered and a loud cry left your lips. That’s when a bright light lit up the bedroom…

PRESENT DAY

The Avengers were having a meeting about the Sokovia Accords when you appeared in the room. You were on the floor, crying in the fetal position. The Avengers were alarmed when they seen you and they stood up from their seats.

“Ma’am?” Steve slowly approached you. “Are you ok? Are you injured?” He asks.

You quickly recognized that voice. You know that voice. Your crying stopped and your eyes shot open. You sat up, seeing your best friend.

“Steve?” You asked.

“Y/N?” Steve asks.

You stood up from the floor and ran over to him, hugging him tightly.

“You’re alive.” You whispered.

You and Steve stood there hugging while the Avengers stared at you two in confusion. They cleared their throats to get yours and his attention.

“Who is she, Steve?” Natasha asks.

“This is Y/N. She���s Bucky’s wife. She has the ability to time travel. She’s actually from this time period.” Steve tells them.

Tears rolled down your cheeks and your bottom lip quivered when you heard your husband’s name. Steve excused himself and took you to a different room to talk.

“I have something to tell you and it may come to you as a shock, but I’m telling the truth when I say this.” Steve begins.

You sniffled, waiting for him to continue.

“Bucky is alive.” He tells you.

Your eyes went wide.

“But- but told me he was dead.” You say.

“I thought he was, but I seen him.” He says.

“When?” You asked.

“Not too long ago.” He says.

“Take me to him.” You say.

“I will once I figure out where he is. I promise.” He says.

———

“Why did you bring me to an abandoned building in a different country?” You asked Steve.

“Bucky is in here. I brought him here.” Steve says.

You looked in the room Bucky is in, gasping when you seen Bucky. You went to run to him, but Steve grabbed your arm before you could get to your husband.

“Steve, he’s waking up.” Sam informs him.

Steve walks toward Bucky with you and Sam following behind him. You stayed hidden behind Steve. Bucky frowns when he noticed that his metal arm was wedged in some kind of machine.

“Which Bucky am I talking to?” Steve asks him.

“Your mom’s name is Sarah and you used to wear newspapers in your shoes.” Bucky says.

You smiled to yourself when you finally heard your husband’s voice for the first time in a while. You stepped out from behind Steve.

“James?” You asked.

“Doll?” Bucky whispers. “Is that really you?” He asks.

Bucky thought he was hallucinating for a second.

“Yes.” You confirmed softly.

Bucky somehow managed to get his metal arm out of the machine. He stood up and walked over to you. Steve stands in between you and him, just to be sure he was in Winter Soldier mode.

“Steve, please.” Bucky’s voice cracks and his eyes tear up. “Let me hug my wife.” He pleads softly.

Steve looked in Bucky’s eyes, seeing his best friend and not the Winter Soldier. He stepped aside, allowing Bucky to approach you. Bucky hugged you tightly. He broke down in tears and so did you.

“We’ll give you guys a moment.” Steve says.

Steve and Sam left the room, leaving you and Bucky alone. Bucky cupped your cheeks and kissed you passionately. Your hands clutched the fabric of his henley, melting into his touch.

“I missed you more than anything, babydoll.” Bucky whispers against your lips.

“I missed you more.” You whispered back.

Bucky wrapped his arms around you, holding you against him.

“I love you so much, James.” You whispered.

“I love you more, babydoll.” He murmurs softly. “I’m never leaving you again. I promise.” He whispers, kissing the top of your head.

🩵🩵🩵🩵🩵🩵🩵🩵🩵🩵🩵🩵🩵🩵🩵🩵🩵

-Bucky’s Doll

[starkenobi]

Demonic Domination | MASTERLIST

masterlist — read on ao3

Sumary: Y/N doesn't classify herself as a vigilante or, as people on the internet say, an antihero. No, she's just an occult detective with a fucking amnesia trying to create a new life beyond her secret mutant status. At first, she really tried to keep a normal civilian life, but it's difficult when you're rescued from a dark place by a man dressed as a mummy ninja calling himself Moon Knight. So, anyway, working as an occult detective makes her travel around the world, and it's cool because it gives her a lot of stories... Until her feet touch New York's ground. It's all downhill from there.

Pairings: Natasha Romanoff x Fem!Reader; Bucky Barnes x Fem!Reader; Matt Murdock x Fem!Reader.

Warnings: +18 romance; angst; fluff; smut; violence; torture; gore; cursing; pseudo harem; not following 100% mcu events; feelings. English isn't my first language, so please be kind. chapters have their own warnings, too, for safety.

MAIN STORY CHAPTERS

Prologue [off the record]

One | Lo Hecho Está Hecho | on a rainy night, y/n is rescued by moon knight, and for a while, london becomes her home. but no one can really escape fate, not when your former lover is death herself.

Two | Nuns on Cocaine | maybe traveling around the world solving cases and dealing with cryptids isn't that bad, unfortunately someone decided that was a great idea to play around with the occult and scientific shit, now y/n needs to clean some superheroes' mess.

3] Boss Bitch | y/n isn't one to be intimidated. yes, her memory is shit and she can't really explain her knowledge, but she knows how things go. she can deal with vigilantes, their work similar to hers, there's no glamour or riches. but fuck superheroes and their super shit, y'know? even if they're hot and gorgeous as fuck.

4] Voulez-Vous? | there's an expectation in the air, a tension that's not only about want or need. of course, there's a fricking bomb and a targed on her back. if only she could remember why. at least she has the devil on her side.

5] Seal It With a Kiss | a crush, a casual fling, a passionate night, a you're made for me, a can't lose you now, a maybe im already falling in love. but y/n will deny it till the end. she's not going soft. she'll lie through her teeth, but a promise is a promise, even if you don't say the words out loud.

6] Murder On The Dance Floor | she should have seen it coming. of course, nothing is that simple. she's not jealous of their past, but she can't ignore the feeling of trying to keep up with them. she's stuck in the middle. now isn't fun anymore.

7] People Disappear Here | she knows every one of them has a terrible past (and ghosts), but this chaotic dirty nightmare is hers, so fuck it. she's going swinging it like the devil. maybe it's time to finally be the boring grown-up.

8] No Good Deed Goes Unpunished | her past officially came like a wrecking ball, nowhere to run or hide. with her memories back, she wishes everything was different. and then there's the most important question: how much does a life cost? she doesn't know, she can't fucking die.

EXTRAS:

moodboards: y/n | natasha romanoff | bucky barnes | matt murdock

characters list: moon knight boys; tony stark; clint barton; steve rogers; frank castle; wade wilson; bruce banner; logan; kate bishop; yelena belova; maria hill; fury; thor; scott lang; wanda maximoff; pepper potts; peter parker; stephen strange.

follow the tag #demonicdomination to keep up with all updates and posts!

[ivybucky]

lightning in a bottle - logan howlett x reader

mutant!reader nearly harms the team in a moment of panic and feels unable to deal with the aftermath, but logan is there to bring you back in more ways than one

a/n: i have so many ideas besties... currently have a list of 5 fic ideas and this is the first one I was able to flush out. here's some angst with happy ending for ya (no smut)

content: angst with happy ending, lots of electricity(literally), mentions of torture and screaming, mentions of mutant experimentation, implications of shitty birth family, confession of feelings, reader crying, sad reader, angry/sad logan

words: 2329

~~~~~

All you could think about was the lightning. 

You remember walking into the room, where the footage of your torture was displaying blatantly across the TV news cycle, the team sitting there and watching with rapt attention. “Mutant Experimentation Footage Leaked” scrolled across the screen. You remember the static tingling in your fingertips as you recognized what you were watching. Your own cries echoed from the speakers as footage of Stryker’s experimentation on you from a month prior when you had been captured is played to the nation. 

“Turn it off,” you had said quietly, pleadingly. The team’s gaze snaps to your silhouette in the door frame. Their eyes held sorrow, and something else that you did not want to see. 

“Y/N-” Storm had started to speak, but you wouldn’t have it. 

“Turn it off, now,” you’d said, clenched fists at your side as the panic began to swell, small flares of electricity flaring around your knuckles. Memories of the torture, the agony, the hatred came rushing back all at one and your eyes couldn’t leave the screen as it continuously replayed it. 

As the feeling heightening, electricity cracked in the air. Your eyes lit up, a bright purple gleam taking over. There was too much silence in the room, the sounds of your screams playing in a loop like a broken record as the news team played the footage over and over. Finally, someone broke it. “Y/N,” Logan had spoken up, an odd, unfamiliar tone in his voice. Good god, was that pity?

“What?” You had snapped, finally looking away from the footage and making eye contact with the team, with Logan, and you understood it wasn’t pity you heard in his voice, but a form of fear. Your anger slowly dissipated as you took in the state of the room - everyone in that room (who wasn’t bald) had hair floating up into the air, falling under the influence of the clouded electricity that filled the ceiling, just as one is before they get struck by lightning. 

And gods above you had almost struck them. 

Your fists fell lax at your sides, realization of the height of your emotions, the loss of control taking over your features. “I-” you stuttered, unsure how to apologize for the pain you nearly inflicted. “I-I’m sorry.”

For a moment, no one moved a muscle, no one said a word. It wasn’t the first time you had lost control, but it was the first time any of them were in danger because of it. Everyone stood like statues, watching you with bated breath, as if you were one nudge away from electrocuting the masses. You turned and fled the room, quickly striding back to your room to inevitably lock yourself in. It was the only place you felt like you could be and not hurt anyone.

Hours had passed since, but you couldn’t shake the look on their faces, the pure fright they showed, caused by you. Decidedly, that wouldn’t happen again - you wouldn’t allow it, in any capacity. Would they always fear you now? Could you manage to stay surrounded by people you loved, but knew there would always be a limit to how far their love for you went? Could you withstand the constant pins and needles your family would walk on around you, again?

It was that thought that had you hurriedly shuffling through your closet to find the duffle bag you had lugged over your shoulder when you were originally picked up by X-Men. It was crumbled into a wrinkled ball on the top shelf, thought to no longer have any use. 

You paced around the room, picking up the things you knew you couldn’t leave without. The students can go through my clothes, you thought with some sort of sad acceptance. Though, that didn’t keep you from packing some of the staples. The school logo printed on a t-shirt, an old sweatshirt that was singed from a fire fight in your first mission with the rest of the team, a stolen old flannel that smelt like smoke and whiskey-

“Where are you going, sweetheart?” You look up almost startled at Logan standing at the door to your bedroom, now cracked wide open. Logan… You’d nearly forgotten about the worst part - leaving him behind.

He leans against the door frame with a confused expression, arms crossed over his chest. You furrow your brows before turning back to the half-full duffle bag that sat on the foot of your bed. You knew you couldn’t look at him when you spoke again. 

“I’m leaving,” you nearly mutter and you stuff more clothes into the bag. You can feel your eyes getting hot, and try to take a deep breath to calm yourself. 

“What do you mean you’re leaving?” he asks, his own brows furrowing. “Leaving for a mission?”

Your movements paused. You could tell the truth, but the reality was that he would try to stop you. And even if nothing had come out of the tension that hung between the two of you, you knew you would give in. 

“Yeah,” you swallowed as you lied. “Just a quick one, some intel gathering. I’m leaving sometime tomorrow morning.”

There was a brief pause, like Logan was trying to get a read on how truthful you were being. “Maybe I should come with you,” he says. “For backup, just in case.”

You clench your eyes shut - of course, he thought you needed to be accompanied. “I’ll be fine on my own,” your hands slow their movements as you place the last item in the bag, a gray zip up hoodie Logan had given you once. Were you saying that to reassure him, or yourself? You lied through your teeth like it was painful, as if the act of clenching your jaw so hard would break your bones and your will. “I’ll be back before you know it.”

There was another pause, and you were sure he was going to call your bluff, but he just clicked his tongue. “Well alright,” he said gruffly, almost dejectedly. His hand fiddled with the door frame for a moment hesitantly. “You know that if you need-“

“I know,” you interrupted, turning to give him a tight smile. “I know.” He gave a saddened half smile before nodding and walking away. 

The space he once occupied at the door was empty now, but for a moment you stared at as if he was still there, as if he was still trying to comfort you even when he didn’t know how. 

An errant tear slipped from your eye and trailed down your face for a moment before you snapped back into reality, wiping the tear away quickly with the heel of your hand. You aggressively zipped up the bag and slung it over your shoulder, eager to leave before anyone, mainly Charles, got an idea of your plan. 

With the click of the front door, and the clap of a thunderstorm on the dark horizon, you were gone. 

As Logan left your room, he externally winced at his inability to provide comfort - to you of all fucking people - as if the non-action hurt him. The pain on your face seeped into the air and into his adamantium bones, as if it was transferable through the longing gazes and secretly honeyed words. 

He hung his head and he slowly walked further down the hall, a part of him hoping he would hear your door creak open and hear you call out his name. Instead, he was met with the faint sniffles of a teary nose that only his heightened hearing could pick up, a scuffle of fabric being shoved tightly into the duffle that was then harshly zipped shut with a shuddering sigh.

He turned the corner to retreat to his room before he could hear any more, deciding to join the mission the next morning anyways. 

The following morning, Logan made his way to Charles, unexpecting wanting to make his intentions to follow her known to someone. He entered the room, Charles already staring directly at him with a face one could only describe as similar to an omniscient god.

“Logan,” Charles spoke, somewhat resigned. “She doesn’t have a mission.”

Logan paused in his step with a furrowed brow. “What are you talking about? She said she was leaving this morning.”

“I did not give her one,” he confirms. “I have a feeling-”

Logan cut him off before the professor could continue. His jaw was clenched tight as he spoke the words. “She left.”

A tense silence took over the room, Charles watching Logan with a straight, yet dissecting gaze. Logan broke eye contact and looked away momentarily as he felt his heart sink to his stomach for the first time in decades. 

Finally, he looked back to Charles with a determined glare. “Where is she?”

The side of the professor’s mouth twitches up. 

—-

It only took two days for Logan to reach you. Charles was able to track your location easily as soon as he was asked. It took nothing for Logan to take the bike and peel out of the upstate town. Now, he stood in the rain staring at the shitty side-of-the-road motel with a simmering glare. 

His mind floated despondently in the air above him, completely unattached from his body as it stomped its way up the stairs and down the hall to your room. His fist banged on the door loudly, uncaring of its stability under his metal skeleton. His heightened exhaustion and emotions tethered him enough to not let his head fly too far away from him, but the reality was that he hadn’t slept since you left and the only words he spoke were to himself as he practiced what he would say to get you to return.

But then, the door swung open. His mind snapped back to his body as soon as he saw your face, but the pleas he had planned to beg left him just as quick. 

“You lied to me,” he growled, he accused, standing in the open door, his hands resting up on the door frame. The rain continued to pour just past the motel covering, evidence of its duration linger in the form of wet tracks down his leather jacket, the dampness of his hair, the drops that stuck to his face. 

“Logan-”

“You lied to me, Y/N,” he repeated, a new kind of angry heat simmering in his eyes. “You were not leaving for a mission.”

You take another deep breath. “‘M leaving for good,” you utter softly, your hands trembling slightly at the first out loud admission of what you had planned to do. You circled the back in the room, putting the cheap mattress in between you as some sort of barrier. The duffle bag he saw you packing days ago sat mockingly between you both. 

“Come on, what the fuck? ‘Leaving for good’?” He asks incredulously, taking a step forward and letting his arms drop to his sides. “You were going to leave the mansion, just like that?”

You stare at the duffle’s opening, having only reached that motel hours ago, not long enough to unpack the only remaining items you had. “I can’t stay, Logan,” you say softly, not moving to look at him. “No matter how careful I am, no matter how hard I try, I can’t control it, I can’t control me. Even Charles doesn’t know what to do with me, I-I had to leave, it’ll be better for everyone.”

“No,” he says defiantly, moving cautiously closer around the side of the bed. “Not everyone.”

The tears welled in your eyes at his words, unable to stop them from falling and you crossed your arms in front of you protectively, the tear-stained cuffs of the hoodie, his hoodie, pushed up your forearms. “Why are you here, Logan?”

“Why am I- are you stupid?” He scoffed, causing you to flinch at his harshness. “I’m here to bring you back. You’re not leaving the school, you’re not leaving me alone-”

“You don’t want me,” you cried, with tears streaming down your face as you shake your head. He can feel his heart break at the side of your distress. “None of you do. I nearly struck all of you the other day, just because I got emotional. I almost hurt you, and that’s the last thing you need, Logan.”

Logan quickly moves closer to stand in front of you and cups your cheeks, bringing your wet eyes to his. “Don’t you get it,” he says with a strained, rough voice. His thumbs sweep gently under your eyes to brush away the tears. “You are the only thing I need. Fuck everything and everyone else.”

Your hands come up to hold onto his wrist, keeping his hands exactly where they are on your face. “Logan-” you stutter as you search his eyes almost hopefully. “What are you saying?”

There’s a brief silence in between your soft sniffles and the sound of the rain on the other side of the motel door. When Logan speaks again, it is deliberate, and it’s what he wanted to say all along. “I’m saying I am nothing without you, sweetheart,” he urges, his thumb pulling your bottom lip from your teeth. “I was nothing before you, and I know that if you leave now, I’ll be nothing all over again. Not a single person in that school wants you to leave, me especially.”

You squeeze your eyes shut in time with the hopeful clenching of your heart, forcing tears out as you do so. You rest your forehead against Logan’s as he continues. “Please,” he nearly whispers, his nose bumping against yours. “Come home with me and turn nothing into something again.”

You nodded against him and spoke a wet “okay” before pressing your lips, finally, against his. And, just as you had predicted you would several nights ago, you gave in. 

_____

a/n: quickly posting this bc if i keep staring at it i'll never post it pls tell me how i did :D logan smut comin soon, pls like, comment, reblog

[teddypines]

The pretty things in life

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

Summary: Y/N needing comfort after a long day and Logan being a carrying husband. Making sure his wife got all the love she deserves after a tough day.

Lost of fluff and use of multiple nicknames (Bub, kitty, Kitten).

Husband!Logan x Wife!Reader. Reader is a snow leopard mutant/hybrid in this, other feline creatures are possible too.

Note: happy New year everyone!! (This was totally not posted on accident). The little poem at the end is from the book 'Pillow Thoughts' by Courtney Peppernell. Words: 2097

Pictures and art from Pinterest, credits to the artist. I just put it together.

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

Today wasn’t the greatest day, everything just seemed to go wrong. The children were louder than other days, the noise being a bit too much for Y/N’s sensitive ears, but she was going to finish her lessons. Already looking forward to cuddles in the nest with Logan after dinner. Needing her hubby for comfort, wanting to be wrapped in his arms and sent. But that sadly had to wait for a bit, only two more lessons to give and then she would be done.

“Next slice, please, Kurt.” Y/N said before Kurt tapped the laptop for the next slide of the presentation. “And here we see a painting of heterochromia. See how the artist put detail into every little coloured dot on the eyes.” Y/N explained as she looked at Kurt, giving him a little sign to put on the next slide. Until one of the teen’s put up their hand. “But miss what does this have to do with art?” 

“Good question, Alice, we are going to try and paint something as close to it's real life counterpart. Get it to look as realistic as you can, put in details that someone might not see at first. You can try to use different perspectives, see it in a different light and color. Just put on canvas what you see as best as you can.” Y/N explained as she showed the children a piece of art she did showing the beauty of something small yet so bright in color because of the lighting, in this case Beast's blue fur. “And if this doesn’t work for you, then do something else, be creative but keep the overall details in mind, it doesn’t even have to be big. Just paint or draw what you see.” 

With this the children went to work on their art as Y/N left the classroom to get a cup of tea and a few moments alone. Of course giving a few students the job to keep the others in check. Not wanting to come back to a destroyed classroom. 

Standing in the kitchen as the kettle boiled, thinking about how she could make it to the end of the day without feeling too overwhelmed. Unconsciously rubbing the ears on top of her head. Her tail moved around nervously in a way to try and calm herself down. She was so deep in though she didn’t even notice Logan slipping his arms around her waist. 

“What ya thinking about, bub?” He asked, making Y/N jump out of her thoughts. “Just what I have to do to survive the rest of the day.” She answered while leaning back against Logan, her tail going around Logan's leg to ground herself against him. “Awh, is my kitty a little overwhelmed and overstimulated?” Logan asked with a small smirk on his face. Which made Y/N grumble a bit in answer, knowing the tone in her husband's voice all too well. She reached up to grab her teacup from the cupboard.

“How about I join you for your lessons, that’s your last lesson of the day, right?” Logan suggested after kissing Y/N’s shoulder. Wanting her to know he was there for her, even in her overstimulated situation.“No, have one more after this one, but you don’t have to join me, you have your own classes.” She answered. Putting her tea bag into her cup, putting in the boiled water right after. “I finished for the day.” 

“Really? Owh, yeah, it’s wednesday.” Y/N realised as Logan took her mug, starting to lead Y/N back to her class, his hand on her lower back, just above her tail. Just a little bit of comfort he could offer her. “Come on love, after classes have ended I'll cuddle with you.” Logan promised with a smile on his face. “In the nest?” Y/N asked, giving Logan big kitten eyes. “Yes, in the nest, bub.”

<---------------------------------------------------->

Logan stayed by Y/N’s side as she helped the children with their art and taught the next class. He didn’t say a single word, he just looked grumpy with his arms folded over his chest and his feet on the desk. Some of the children did see a small glimpse of a smile on Logan’s face when Y/N looked back at him while she explained something about inspiration and making art about the things and/or people you love. Logan’s gaze made a few of the children giggle, and some of the girls just wished someone would look at them like how Logan looks at Y/N. He just really loves his wife and it showed.

If Logan could make art like his wife, he would make art about her, show her how he sees her every day, how beautiful she really is. Bring out her best features, her glowing eyes, her hair and those fluffy ears. That idiot tail that always found a place around his leg or her legs and the thighs he loved to nap on when he allowed himself. Sadly no one would ever see the way Logan sees Y/N since he sucks at art and photography doesn’t do her justice.

<----------------------------------------------------->

After classes had finally ended for the day and the kids had left the classroom, Y/N sat down in Logan’s lap and let out a sigh. “Good job, bub, you’re done for the day.” Logan whispered into Y/N’s ear as he wrapped his arms around her waist. Gently holding onto her as she lay her head on his shoulder. “Yeah… Now I want to go to the nest and cuddle, I really need cuddles right now.” Y/N responded as she buried her nose into Logan’s shirt, his scent calming her down a little. “And I could really use some dinner and a good drink, right about now.” She added. “Then let’s get you some dinner first, get you in the shower after and then we can cuddle in the nest.” Logan answered, taking charge. He knew exactly what Y/N needed when she was tired, so he was going to take care of her.

Logan wrapped Y/N’s arms around his neck and her legs around his waist before standing up from the desk chair. Holding her close to him, as he carried her. “What do you want for dinner?” He asked after getting out of the classroom and into the hallway. “Pasta, the good one.” Y/N answered. Logan grumbled a bit as Y/N answered, he knew which pasta she wanted. The only problem with this was that he didn’t make the pasta the way Storm made it. So he only had one choice, hope that Storm was making dinner tonight and that it was the pasta Y/N wanted and that she wouldn't get overwhelmed even more if it wasn’t the pasta she wanted. Y/N wouldn’t but Logan just wanted his wife to have the pasta she wanted.

As Logan carried Y/N to the kitchen, some of the children ran past the two. Also going to the kitchen for dinner. Bickering with each other about what they thought they were going to get for dinner. 

When Logan walked into the kitchen with Y/N he saw that it was Jean and Scott by the stove. Logan groaned a little when he found out it wasn’t Storm who made dinner. “What are you two making?” Y/N asked Jean as she looked over Logan’s shoulder, not really minding that it wasn’t Storm making dinner. "Lasagne." Scott answered, putting more sauce in the dish. Logan sighed in relief, lasagne was pasta too, that was good.

“Yeah, and we have garlic bread on the side and some salad if you want to be healthy.” Jean continued Scott's answer. “It will be ready in about forty minutes.” She added, already have read Y/N's thoughts about how long it was going to take until it was done. Y/N groaned but accepted It would take a little more time. “Logan? Can we shower now instead of after dinner? We have the time.” Y/N asked Logan, actually liking that they had time to shower now instead of after dinner. Logan nodded his head and took Y/N to their room after telling Jean and Scott they would be back for dinner.

Some of the children in the kitchen grumbled that they had to wait almost an hour before they could have dinner, not liking that dinner was later than usual. Not really caring that some of the adults had a mission or other adult tasks to do which made them start on dinner a little later. 

<----------------------------------------------->

Once in their bathroom Logan sat Y/N on the counter next to the sink. “Need me to shower with you, love?” Logan asked between gentle kisses on Y/N”s head. “Yes, I would like that, please.” She answered to which Logan nodded. “Alright, let me get some fresh towels and then I'll help you undress.” Logan said as he whipped underneath Y/N’s eye, brushing away some sleep. He stepped away from her and started to grab enough towels. Y/N on the other hand wasn’t really patient and got off the counter, already undressing herself and putting her clothes in the laundry. She made her way to the shower and turned it on, waiting for the water to become the right temperature. 

“Hey, I was going to do that for you kitten.” Logan laughed once he saw his wife already undressed and underneath the warm water of the shower. He placed the towels on the heater next to the shower before undressing himself. “Just wanted to be in the shower already.” Y/N explained as she appreciated the way Logan was undressing. Logan rolled his eyes playfully. “Such an inpatient and naughty kitten.” 

Y/N gave Logan a tired smile as he got into the shower with her. Placing her right hand onto his chest. holding back the desire to just press her face into his pec’s. Logan placed his own hand over Y/N’s, rubbing his thumb over the back of her hand. He looked down at Y/N, seeing just how tired she really was right now and how much the shower was helping her relax. Not a single word needed to be said between them. They just showered in the comfort of each other, Logan helping Y/N was her hair, ears and tail before she helped him wash his. After doing the whole shower routine Logan just held onto Y/N for a few minutes, just letting her know he was here for her, letting her lean on him. Telling her he loved her and other sweet nothings.

Getting out of the shower was difficult, but it happened because tummies started to rumble. Logan helped Y/N dry off and got her into some comfy clothes, his shirt and her favorite comfy pants. He dried her hair and fur, brushing it after. He got some comfy clothes for himself before looking at his watch. “Dinner will be ready soon, bub.” He announced. “Okiedokie.” Y/N answered as she reached out for Logan’s arm. Holding onto him as he led the way back to the kitchen. Logan was secretly liking how clingy Y/N was right now, she usually is when tired, but now she was just a little extra clingy and he loved it.   

<------------------------------------------->

Dinner was nice, a bit loud because of the inpatient and hungry kids, but the lasagna was amazing so that fixed everything for Y/N. They stayed a little longer at the dinner table for ice cream and talked about everything and nothing. Well it was mostly Logan and Y/N listening to the other, but they didn’t mind, it was nice to listen every once in a while. After dinner Logan carried Y/N back to their room. Gently laying her down on their nest, laying down next to her after she was settled. Logan made sure Y/N was tucked against him, holding a plushie he gave her for their first anniversary. Warm covers and blankets over the two of them before he kissed her head. “Sweet dreams, Love.” He whispered before watching her fall asleep. She was clearly too tired to stay awake to long for the cuddles she wanted.

Logan admired Y/N for a few minutes, looking at her fluffy ears and her cheeks. The way the bedside lamp made her face glow. She really was the prettiest thing he had ever sat his eyes on. “Of all the maps in the world, the only one I will follow is the map to your heart.” Logan whispered against Y/N’s forehead before leaving a kiss. He turned off the lamp and closed his eyes. Happily falling asleep in their nest, letting the comfort and warmth take over.

[fanged-fanfics]

Ummm…… Weasel x child turned weasel reader?

Hear me out…

An alternative universe where the Weasel managed save one of the kid and evade custody, but he accidentally bite the kid and the kid transformed into a weasel-creature like him

☆ Two Of A Kind — Weasel & Child! Gn Reader HCs ☆

Genres: Platonic, Fluff || they/them pronouns for reader || Warnings for mild angst

──────.𖥔 ݁ ˖˗ˏˋ ★ ˎˊ˗.𖥔 ݁ ˖ ──────

ᯓᡣ𐭩 From the very millisecond you got dropped off at the jail and entered his sight, Weasel didn't let you out of his vision. He could tell who you were by your scent, and he didn't leave your side since that first flicker of recognition entering his damaged mind

ᯓᡣ𐭩 He did everything with you— walking, playing, eating, anything he could do to stick by your side. If you wandered off he'd gently nudge you with his head or snout in the right direction, or simply pick you up by your scruff

ᯓᡣ𐭩 He can't really comprehend that he's what caused this to happen to you, but he knows you're different now. In occasional moments of clarity he may gently nudge at you while whining, trying to communicate worry and remorse

ᯓᡣ𐭩 The wardens have tried to separate you two before, but Weasel nearly took a whole hand off of someone's arm before that could happen. Not even the other monsters could pry him back. You were his kit, and you weren't going anywhere

ᯓᡣ𐭩 He'd occasionally drag you over to the other Commandos to get them to pay attention to you in a 'look! Look at my kit! This one's my kid!' kind of way

ᯓᡣ𐭩 You started seeing the same therapist as him, and you soon began having some sessions together since you seemed to give him some mental clarity, more than any picture or scrap of newspaper had

ᯓᡣ𐭩 He shares everything with you. Every bit of food, item, anything. You immediately become the center of his world, no matter how small or disorienting that perspective may be

ᯓᡣ𐭩 You tried to occasionally engage in play with him, the typical friendly roughhousing. You were confused when he didn't seem to reciprocate and would instead nudge you off or disengage entirely. Really it was more that he kept having flashes of memories to back then, when this all started, when you were just a friendly face that wanted to welcome a monster. He can't bear to feel like he's making the same mistakes

ᯓᡣ𐭩 He always sleeps curled around you, or he tries to. He usually ends up in some insane twisted napping shape eventually, but he never strays far from your side regardless

ᯓᡣ𐭩 Any dangerous situation he senses, you're the first one he's picking up to safety. Sure he's mauled people in front of you before, but he still makes sure when he can think properly that your safety is top priority. Be expected to be grabbed by the scruff immediately

[thatsmzbitchtoyou]

Angel's Wings -Oneshot

This is kind of a long one, and my first time writing for Joaquin, so I hope y'all like it! Word count: 6319

“Joaquin, you got it?”

“Yeah!” Joaquin replied, speeding off toward the errant missile.  He and Sam were once again battling one too many threats at a time, and another problem just had to arise as the fight was starting to wind down.  Sam was handling the last few bogies as he flew through the forest nearby.  As he watched the missile he realized it wasn’t errant or flying blindly.  It had a destination, a target, they just didn’t know what.

“It’s got a target, Sam, but I don’t see anything,” he said quickly into the comms in his helmet.  He heard a static response, then nothing.  “Sam, can you hear me?” he called out again, but heard nothing and huffed.  Just as he was about to come up on the missile to try and redirect it he was pushed from the side.  He went veering off into the trees, trying to not hit anything as he grunted and tried to right himself.  “Shit!  What the hell?” he wondered, hovering in the air and looking around.  He flew back toward the missile, but then saw it rising into the air above the forest being pushed away from its intended target by…an angel?

There was no way.  His eyes widened then narrowed as he tried to catch up.  It was a woman with large white and speckled grey wings that flapped furiously as she flew higher into the sky, her hands pushing the missile from underneath.  Joaquin kicked his thrusters harder until he could fly alongside her.

“Hey!  Let go, I’ll take it!” he yelled.  She barely spared him a glance before grimacing and pushing it higher.  He watched as the edges of her wings started to get singed by the rocket of the missile, and she yelped in pain.  Joaquin quickly moved himself under the missile, pushing her aside.  “You’ll hurt yourself, I’ll take care of it, just go!” he yelled again.  She finally looked at him, and he was stunned into silence.  They stared at each other for another moment before she slipped back then screamed as one of her wings caught fire.  He watched in horror as her wings stopped beating and curled around her as she scrunched her whole body in pain then started to fall.  “NO!” he yelled, then quickly pushed the missile forward.  He let it fly above him further before aiming his arm cannons and shooting at it.  It exploded, and he quickly turned and flew back toward her.  She was no longer in the fetal position, now passed out from the pain as she fell, her back facing the ground and her wings, one now charred and the other still intact, hanging limply from her back.

Joaquin pushed his wings as hard as he could, the G forces making him dizzy as he flew as fast as he could toward her.  They were too close to the ground, but he didn’t stop until he was finally able to grab around her waist, holding her against his chest before pulling up hard.  He evened himself out and headed back towards Sam, making sure she was secure in his arms.  When he reached the fighting area he slowed when he saw Sam on the ground talking to some agents, then carefully touched down.  Sam came running over to him when he saw what he was doing, the other agents calling over their comms for medical attention.

“Joaquin, what?  What happened?” Sam asked incredulously, staring at the woman.

“Caught a falling angel,” Joaquin muttered, laying her flat on her back, being careful of her wings.  He checked her over, making sure her pulse was still good and that there weren’t any other injuries he couldn’t see before.  She seemed fine overall, but the damage to her left wing was bad enough that it had reached the nerve endings near her back.  “She was pushing the missile away from whatever the target was.”  He looked up at Sam as he cradled her face in his hands.  “She was as fast as me,” he said in awe.

“Jesus,” Sam said, frowning as he looked at her.  A medical team came running up with a makeshift gurney, laying it next to her and heaving her onto it before running back to the Quinjet to take her in.  Joaquin stayed with her for as long as he could before they shooed him away so they could work on her.  He and Sam sat in their seats, the other agents all climbing aboard then taking off back to base.  Joaquin kept watching from afar, trying to see if she had woken up yet or not.  “Heading home, picked up an enhanced in the field that was injured and in need of medical attention,” Sam said to the computer onboard.

“Enhanced how?” Fury’s voice echoed from the speaker.

“Uh…looks like an angel, sir,” Sam replied, giving Joaquin a glance.  

“I’m sorry, did you say an angel?” Fury asked, sounding perturbed.

“Yes,” Sam said.  

The medical attendants were hooking her up to an IV drip, wrapping her damaged wing as best as they could.  Joaquin got out of his chair and headed towards her as they all dispersed.  She was still passed out, and as Joaquin sat in a chair beside her he saw that they handcuffed her to the bed.

“What is this?” he asked the nearest medical attendant.

“It’s protocol, Lieutenant Torres,” he replied as he wrote more things on her chart.  “Until Colonel Fury can ascertain as to whether she is friend or enemy, she has to be restrained, even while under medical assistance.”

Joaquin frowned, his jaw ticking, but he nodded.  The attendant walked away and he looked back toward her.  She was beautiful, her Y/C/H splayed out around her head like a halo, her eyes moving behind her eyelids as she dreamed.  There was a slight frown on her lips, and every once in a while she would take a deep, stuttering breath before settling back down.  There were a couple of smudges on her face from the ash that had developed on her wing and brushed against her as she fell, so Joaquin looked around then reached for a washcloth nearby, wetting it and making sure it was warm before bringing it up to her face.  He gently washed off the dark smudges on her left cheek and up near her temple, then used another dry washcloth to wipe away the leftover wetness before sitting back down on the chair.  He threw the washcloths into the wastebasket then reached a hand up and held the hand closest to him.  He wasn’t sure why he did it, but he knew that after he had been hurt in the field before, he needed a reassuring hand when he was recovering, so he held her hand, his thumb softly rubbing along her knuckles.  She seemed to relax a little bit more after that, the frown on her lips lessening and the tightness around her eyes relaxing.  He smiled to himself and kept holding her hand until they arrived back home.

***

Fury, Sam and Joaquin watched on from the room beyond the glass partition that kept them hidden as the woman woke up.  She gasped and struggled against the handcuffs for a moment, her good wing trying to flap from underneath her, making the entire bed jiggle dangerously.  The medical attendants all ran over, holding the bed still and talking over each other and to her.

“Let me go!” she yelled, her voice coming out hoarse, her back arching off the bed.  “Please, I can’t stay here!”

“Why not?” Fury’s voice echoed through the speakers above her.

She looked up at the speaker, then her eyes slid to the window.  Her gaze fixed on Fury, and Joaquin’s eyes widened.  Could she see them?  “You need to let me go,” she said fiercely.  “They know where we are, I have to warn them.”

“Who is we?” Fury asked, seemingly unaffected by her stare.  “And why would it matter if some rogue experimental group was tracking you?”

“Because I’m obviously a mutant, you fuckwad!” she screamed, pulling against the handcuffs.  “Do you know what those ‘rogue experimental groups’ do to us?  I have to warn the others!  The missile was headed straight for them.  They were going to exterminate us!”

Fury merely watched her for a moment before turning to Sam.  “Go,” he said simply, and Sam nodded before turning to Joaquin.  “He stays,” Fury spoke before Sam could say anything.  Sam frowned and shrugged at Joaquin before heading out the room and barking orders at agents that were waiting outside.  

“Sir?” Joaquin asked.

“Go and calm her down,” Fury said as he tapped on the screen of the pad in front of him.  “You saved her, she may be more amenable to you.  See what you can learn while Sam finds the other mutants she was with before anyone leftover from that group finds them and I do some research.”

“Yes, sir,” Joaquin said too quickly.  He walked around the wall that separated the two rooms and through the door to the medical room.  The moment he stepped inside she stared at him, her eyes wide as she sank back against the bed.  “Hey,” he said quietly, walking up to her bed.  “Remember me?”

“Yes,” she whispered.  “You saved us.  Saved me.”

“I tried,” Joaquin grimaced.  “I’m sorry I couldn’t save your, uh, wing.”

She swallowed harshly, glancing at her bandaged wing on her other side.  “It’ll heal,” she said sadly.  “It’ll just take a while.”

Joaquin gestured to the handcuffs and looked at one of the nurses.  “Can we take these off?” he asked.

“If she can be calm,” she replied, eyeing the woman distrustingly.

“I will,” she quickly replied, nodding at the nurse.  “I’m calm.”

The nurse narrowed her eyes at her, then nodded.  Another nurse came up and unclasped the cuffs with a key.  The woman rubbed her wrists once she was free, sitting up on the bed as her legs sat criss cross underneath herself.  Her good wing stretched wide behind her as she stretched her arms, slightly shivering before it retracted and folded neatly behind her back.  Joaquin watched in awe, a small smile on his face.  “What’s your name?” he asked.

She gave him a worried look.  “Y/N,” she said quietly.

Joaquin smirked.  “Pretty name,” he complimented her.  “I’m Joaquin.”  He held out his hand to her.  She eyed it as well before reaching out her hand and shaking his.  He squeezed her hand reassuringly before letting go.  “Captain America is heading out now to go find your friends,” he said.  “The rogue group was beaten back pretty well, so unless they’ve got more resources than we know about they should be fine until we get there.”

Y/N took a deep breath then let it out in a huff, rubbing her face with her hands harshly.  “Thank you,” she breathed, then folded her arms around herself.  “They came out of nowhere, and when I saw the missile I…I just…”

“You did the right thing,” Joaquin said, stepping forward and then sitting himself up on the edge of the bed.  “I couldn’t believe how fast you were.  I have a whole jetpack with thrusters, and you were going faster than me.”

Y/N gave him an amused look, a small smile lighting up her face.  “I wish I had thrusters.  Then I wouldn’t get tired from flying so hard or so fast.  That’s why I slipped back,” she explained, rolling her eyes at herself.  

Joaquin nodded.  “So they’re…attached to you?” he asked, glancing at her wings.

Y/N nodded and stretched her right wing out fully, then turned herself slightly and moved the medical gown so he could see her back.  It was huge, longer in length than she was tall, the muscle of her back leading to the wing looked hard and strong, the feathers sprouting from her skin and getting progressively larger and longer the further out they went.  She flapped the wing once, making a wave of wind that made the medical tools nearby all shift and even made him slightly sway on the spot with how strong the current was.  He smiled widely as she made the wing move and stretch, then folded it back behind her again.  “I was born with a spinal deformity,” she said.  “At least, that’s what the doctors told my parents.  Extra bones attached to my spine that seemed to serve no purpose.  But since there was no pain or medical need to remove them, they just left them.  Then when I went through puberty, I started getting pain in my shoulder blades, and my skin looked warped, like it was stretching over something.  I would get itchy and reach back and suddenly pull a tiny feather out from my back.”  She sighed heavily.  “One night I woke up screaming in pain. My parents didn’t know what to do, tried giving me medicine, called the doctor, and took me to the nearest ER.  Then there was this piercing pain and suddenly…” she gestured to the wings.  “They ripped open from my back.  It was…it was pretty bad,” she said, her voice giving out as she frowned.  “Nobody knew what to do.  Mutants weren’t known about yet.  I ran away, or…well, flew away,” she scoffed.  “The looks on my parents’ faces?  Like they were afraid of me?  It was…too much,” she shook her head and closed her eyes.

“How old were you?” Joaquin asked, reaching a hand out and gripping her knee comfortingly.  

“Fifteen,” she whispered, her arms tightening around her.  

He sighed.  “I’m sorry,” he said.  “I can’t imagine what that must have been like.”

She shrugged.  “It’s okay,” she said noncommittally.  “I found a new family, my chosen family, as I traveled around the world.  Found more people with weird or powerful abilities, like me.  Some are easier to hide than others, so I don’t usually go out, but I was the only one that could do something about the missile.”

Joaquin scooted closer to her.  “That was really brave of you,” he said.  “You saved your family.  I just assisted…barely.”

Y/N giggled, and he swore he’d never heard a more perfect sound in his life.  She reached down and put her hand over his hand on her knee, squeezing it lightly before looking up at him.  “Thank you,” she whispered.  

Joaquin smiled softly at her before the door opened again.  She flinched and stared at Fury with wide eyes, her body shifting to almost be behind Joaquin to block her from the newcomer.  Joaquin gave Fury a scathing glare.  “Y/N Y/L/N, level one Epsilon mutant,” Fury said matter of factly.

“Yes?” she said, her fingers wrapping around Joaquin’s jacket at his back.

“We’re retrieving your family now,” he said, looking her over.  “But for the meantime, until we can completely neutralize this rogue group, we’ll need to keep you all hidden here.”

“Oh great, now we’re prisoners under the federal government,” Y/N scoffed, moving back against the bed and away from Joaquin, wincing at the pain in her bandaged wing when she couldn’t lay back comfortably.  

“Not prisoners–” Fury started.

“Will we be allowed to leave?” she asked pointedly.

“No,” Fury frowned.

“Then prisoners,” she sighed.  

Joaquin gave her a sad look.  “Well, if it’s any consolation, the base is huge.  You all will have plenty of room to move around, and there’s a pool and lounge areas.”

She gave him a tight lipped smile.  “Whatever you say.”

***

The mutants that came with Y/N to the base were all younger than her by a few years, so she was almost like a makeshift mother to them.  The youngest was sixteen years old, with the ability to shapeshift into anybody else, and the oldest was twenty years old with the ability to become invisible.  They were all good kids, just misunderstood and shunned by their families who didn’t understand or know how to help them.  Joaquin made a point of visiting the base often to see them all and make sure they were getting adjusted, and on the day that the sixteen year old was leaving for Professor Xavier’s mutant school, he walked into the living quarters and ran into…himself?

“Joaquin,” his copy greeted him.

He smirked.  “Daisy,” he greeted it back.  

A giggle that didn’t match his laugh came from his copy, then it morphed back into the shapeshifter girl.  “Did it look good, though?” she asked him excitedly.  “Did it look just like you?”

“Yes, it was like looking in a mirror,” he said reassuringly and putting an arm around her shoulder.  “Thought I was losing it for a second before remembering who I’m dealing with.”  She giggled again as they rounded the corner to the common area.  The rest of the mutants were doing their own thing, and Y/N sat in the windowsill reading the pamphlets for the mutant school for the hundredth time, the sun on her now fully healed wings making her look more angelic than usual.  “Hey, uh, are you all packed?” he asked Daisy quickly.

“Yep, I’m ready,” she said happily.

“Good, um, let me talk to Mama before she has another meltdown,” he said quietly to her.  Daisy glanced at Y/N and sighed.

“Probably a good idea.  She’s a bit high strung today,” she said before patting his shoulder and walking away.  The other mutants quickly greeted him before he could walk over to Y/N.  He reached out and took the pamphlets from her, and her head snapped up to look at him.  “You’re stressing again,” he said with a soft smile.

Y/N sighed heavily and hung her head in her hands.  “Don’t judge me,” she groaned.  

“I’m not,” Joaquin laughed.  “I know you’re just worried about her, you have every right to be.  But this place will be good for her,” he reassured her.  She hesitantly looked up at him, and his face fell when he saw the tears building up in her eyes.  “Oh, angel, come here,” he cooed, scooching closer to her and opening his arms.  She hugged him, and he positioned his arms around her wings to hug her back, rubbing his hand along her spine between them, laying his head on top of hers.  “She’s gonna be just fine.  You’re not abandoning her, and she’s not abandoning you, you hear me?”

Y/N cried, shoving her face into his chest.  “I-I know,” she sniffled.  “I’m just going to miss her.”

He smiled and kissed the top of her head.  “I’ll miss her, too,” he said.  

She pulled away and huffed a laugh at herself, wiping her eyes quickly.  “I’m fine, I’ll be fine, I just…” she blew out a puff of air.  She gave him a quick smile.  

They had gotten really close since he rescued her and the mutants came to stay at the base.  The rogue group had finally been brought down, but finding new accommodations for mutants, especially ones with visible physical differences, was hard.  They needed a place where they wouldn’t be immediately ostracized, which was a tough sell still in society.  Daisy could blend in, but the eighteen year old Ray with green, scaly skin, sharp teeth and yellow eyes couldn’t just walk into a store freely, nor could Y/N with her large wings jutting out from her back.  A small community of new homes was being built close to Professor Xavier’s school as a living space for adult mutants, and she and the others would eventually move there.  Joaquin dreaded that day.  He liked Y/N a lot, and would miss her smiles, her laugh, her friendship, and their weekly flights over the base with each other.  

He had fallen for her the moment he’d locked eyes with her while catching that missile, and couldn’t imagine life without her in it anymore.  Sam teased him to know end about going to see his “fallen angel,” and he brushed him off, but knew he was right.  The angel nickname stuck, and he had wanted to try and ask her out, take things to a different level, but kept convincing himself it wouldn’t work.  He didn't want to ruin the friendship.  It was too special to him.

“How long will you be staying this time?” Y/N asked hopefully.

“Well, I thought I’d see Daisy off,” he started, then leaned in conspiratorially.  “And then you and I could take a quick flight.”

Her face brightened.  “But, what about Fury?”

“I may have pulled some strings with air traffic control over the base,” he smirked.  “We’re clear at 1600 hours.”

Y/N smiled widely and scrunched her nose at him.

***

After a tearful goodbye with Daisy, Joaquin had treated Y/N to lunch then drove her to the edge of the base closest to the forest.  He had his flight suit on, his wings strapped to his back as they both stood on a small cliff outcropping that overlooked the base and the nearby forest.  Y/N’s wings stretched and shivered in anticipation as she tied back her hair.  

“You think you can beat me with your new upgrades this time?” she teased him.

“Hey, I was close last time,” Joaquin griped.  “This new jetpack is Stark made, not government issued.”

“Aw, they still won’t give you Wakandan upgrades?” she teased him again, her wing slightly pushing him.  He gave her a half-hearted glare.  “Hm, well, we’ll see how well a Falcon can race an angel,” she winked, then got into position.  “Ready?”

Joaquin put on his helmet and got into position, his wings opening wide and the jets flaring.  “Take off in 3…2…1!”

They both jumped off the cliff, using the momentum of the fall to pick up speed before his jet pack kicked into high gear and her wings fully opened and started flapping.  They raced across the forest, making the tops of the trees sway as they sped over them.  Joaquin was winning this time, the Stark technology giving Y/N a run for her money.  She tried hard to keep up, but eventually she shook her head and backed off, veering into a clearing on the forest floor.  Joaquin laughed and slowed down, flying to meet her there.  When he touched down he could see her breathing heavily, the wings sagging on her back as she wiped away some sweat from her forehead.

He skipped over to her and leaned down to her ear.  “I win,” he whispered, and she laughed and pushed him away.

“Yeah, yeah, you win,” she huffed.  “Man, those Stark boosters are something else.”

“Right?” he asked, his wings folding into the pack.  “Of course, it’s an unfair advantage since you have to use your own energy to fly, and I’ve got this literal unlimited energy core.”

“Exactly,” she said, gesturing to the pack exasperatedly.  “Fuck you and Stark.”

Joaquin laughed heartily, taking the pack off and laying down in the middle of the clearing.  It was a beautiful day, and he closed his eyes to soak up the sun as Y/N lay down next to him.  They usually used these races as an excuse to get off the base and relax in nature a bit, and Y/N was going to enjoy every second of it.  Her breathing slowed and she stretched her whole body, humming contentedly.  Joaquin peeked over at her, reveling in how relaxed and carefree she looked.

He took a deep breath, rounding up the courage, and reached out to hold her hand closest to him.  Y/N slowly opened her eyes and looked to their entwined hands, then met his gaze.  She looked slightly shocked, and he gave her a soft smile.  He moved so he was leaning on his elbow, keeping her hand in his so that their entwined hands rested on his chest, and as he hovered over her his free hand moved to cup her cheek.  Her eyes widened in surprise, but she didn’t flinch or try to pull back.  Joaquin just stared at her for a moment, his gaze flickering across her face.  “Can I kiss you, angel?” he whispered, wanting to give her the choice.

Y/N’s eyes flicked down to his lips momentarily, and he held his breath when he saw the same desire he felt reflected in her eyes.  “Yeah,” she minutely nodded.  

Joaquin’s heart pounded happily as he smiled and leaned down, nuzzling her nose first before kissing her.  For a moment they both seemed to freeze as their lips met, but then she sighed through her nose and her free hand reached to the back of his head, her fingers running through his hair and holding his head against her firmly as she kissed him back fiercely.  He was a bit surprised by her enthusiasm, but met her passion as his kisses became deeper, his hand on her cheek moving down to behind her back to hold her body closer to his.  She hummed against his mouth as he held her, and she opened her mouth to taste his lips.  He tasted her back, the kiss getting dirtier by the second as their tongues entangled together, his hand moving down to her lower back and over her hip to hike her leg over his hip, and she freed her hand pressed against his chest to scratch down his chest, pulling a moan from deep in his throat.

He maneuvered himself to climb over her, his hips slotting between her legs.  It freed his hands to feel over all of her, slipping under her shirt and caressing the rises and falls of her skin until his thumbs caressed the underside of her breasts.  She whimpered at that, her hips grinding up against his as best as she could.  He shuddered, moving his kisses away from her mouth to her cheek and down to her jaw and neck.

“Do you want this, Y/N?” he asked breathily.  “Do you want me?”

“Yes,” Y/N moaned as he sucked on a spot beneath her jaw.  “Please…Joaquin…”

He shivered at the way she said his name, licking down to her collarbone.  “Thank you, angel,” he smirked against her skin.  

Through a flurry of panted breaths, giggles and awkward shifting, they stripped each other of their clothes, his hands barely leaving her for more than a moment.  He kissed down her chest to her breasts, licking at her nipples as he kneaded her breasts in his hands.  She arched her back into his face, her hands gripping his shoulders tight.  His cock was slipping between her already wet slit, his fingers moving down to rub circles into her clit as he sucked on her nipple.  She was shaking beneath him, her wings stretching out wide behind her in the grass, and her legs hooking behind his ass by her ankles.

With a few more precise licks to her nipple and circles of his fingers she was cumming, a loud whine bubbling up her throat and her fingers digging into his shoulders as she squirmed.  Joaquin moaned at feeling her release on his fingers, his thumb rubbing her clit as his fingers explored her lower lips and dipped inside her with a squelch.  “Good girl, angel,” he said lowly as he felt her pussy pulse in aftershocks around his fingers.  He pulled up to stare at her pussy enveloping his fingers, then saw her frown and shift uncomfortably.  “Are you okay?” he asked.

“Yes, it’s not that, it’s…” she bit her lip.  “Can you fuck me from behind?  I just need to get off my wings.”

Joaquin huffed a laugh and pulled his fingers out of her.  “Whatever you need,” he said, helping her roll over to her front.  As beautiful as she was on her back, seeing her on her elbows and knees with her pussy awaiting him and her wings stretched out, was something he never could prepare himself for.  Her hips wiggled, and she looked back at him with an arched eyebrow.  “Fuck,” he groaned, his hands massaging the cheeks of her ass.  “So pretty, angel.  Do we need anything?”

“No,” she said quickly, her head hanging down as he slapped her ass.

He let out a shaky breath.  “Where do you want me to cum?” he asked, wanting to get all the logistics out of the way now before he got too caught up.

“Wherever you want,” she giggled teasingly, grinding back against his cock.

“Dirty angel,” he chuckled, gripping his cock and pumping himself a few times.  He rubbed the tip through her slit, making her moan, then aimed at her entrance and slowly started to push in.  Y/N let out a long hum as he filled her and her wings shivered.  Joaquin’s eyes rolled back in his head, his mouth agape at the feeling of her pussy engulfing him.  It was, pardon the pun, heavenly.  She was warm, wet, and already pulsing for him.  “Fuck,” he said through gritted teeth.  “Holy shit, Y/N.”

Y/N shuddered, reaching her hand back to grip his wrist as he held her hips.  “So good,” she murmured.  “Please…more…”

Joaquin smirked at her being so affected by him like he was by her.  He pulled himself almost all the way out, then snapped his hips back into her, making her squeal and her legs shake.  “So sensitive,” he mumbled.  “So responsive,” he kneaded her hips, watching them tremble under his fingers.  He picked up a steady pace, the clapping of his hips against hers echoing in the clearing and mixing with their combined moans and groans.  She felt amazing, her pussy welcoming him and nearly sucking him in with every thrust.  He moved to lay his front over her back, slightly changing the position, his hands massaging up her back.  When he reached the crease where her skin turned into feathers his thumbs rubbed over the juncture and she shivered violently, her entire body undulating under his touch and her wings shaking.  His eyes widened in surprise, then did it again, circling the muscle around her wings then tickling his fingers up the bone area covered in tiny feathers.  She moaned loudly and nearly buckled as her knees shook.  “So pretty,” he breathed.  “My pretty, fallen angel.”

He leaned down and kissed the spot between her wings, making her gasp.  “Joaquin!” she whined.  

He continued to kiss along her spine, his fingers massaging around her wings as his hips pounded into her.  Her pussy minutely squeezed, warning him of her impending release, and he nearly mounted her as he repositioned to thrust into her then took hold of the shoulder joints of her wings, using them as a way to pull her back onto him harder.  She arched her back and shrieked at the new position and him roughly handling her.  Her left hand touched her nipples while her right hand went between her legs, circling and flicking her clit fast.  “Cum, Y/N,” Joaquin said, his voice low and commanding.  His cock felt ready to burst, but he didn’t want to cum before her.  “Be my dirty little angel and cum!”

Y/N shuddered hard, then stiffened and screamed as she came again.  Her wings shivered and flapped, almost knocking him off balance, but he held on tight and dug his feet into the ground.  But even that wasn’t enough to prepare him for how her pussy gripped him.  Her orgasm came in waves, her muscle rippling along his cock in a way that made his jaw drop open and his eyes completely roll back in his head.  It was unlike anything he had felt before, and without warning he started cumming deep inside her with a deep groan as her pussy sucked him dry.  His face tucked in between her wings, his cheek nuzzling along the muscle that made her shiver as he kept cumming…and kept cumming.  He couldn’t believe how much was coming out, and hadn’t even registered when her knees and elbows gave out and she fell with a huff to the grassy ground.  He sagged on top of her, his hips randomly rutting into her until his balls finally stopped tightening and his cock stopped pulsing.  He couldn’t find the strength to move as he tried to catch his breath.

“Joaquin,” Y/N grumbled.  “I can’t breathe.”

He hummed.  “Sorry, give me a second.”  He carefully rolled off of her, sprawling out on the grass as she shifted to lay more comfortably next to him.  They sat in silence for a moment, then he looked over at her.  She was already looking at him, and when he met her gaze she winked.  He laughed and turned on his side to face her.  “That was amazing,” he breathed.  “Thank you.  Was that okay for me to grab your wings?  I’m sorry, I–”

“It was perfect,” she sighed happily, then draped her wing over him.  “They’re a lot stronger than they seem.”

Joaquin smiled then pet the feathers of her wing gently.  “And apparently a lot more sensitive,” he joked.

Y/N laughed, covering her face in embarrassment.  “Yeah, uh, never knew that until today,” she said. 

“It’s okay, I liked it,” Joaquin said reassuringly.  “Very hot.”

“Hot, huh?” she giggled, arching her eyebrow at him.

“Definitely,” he smirked.

The sun’s rays began to lessen as it shifted in the sky, casting more shadows onto them.  Y/N glanced at the sky then moved to sit up.  “We should get back,” she said, reaching for her clothes.

“Yeah,” he agreed, sitting up with her.  “Um, so…are we—”

Y/N turned and gave him a quick kiss.  “I like you, Joaquin.  I want this,” she gestured between the two of them, “but until me and my family are off base and safe, I don’t think it’s the right time just yet.”  Joaquin slightly frowned but nodded.  He knew she was right, but it still hurt.  She cupped the side of his face and leaned forward until her forehead was pressed against his forehead, scrunching her nose and then nuzzling his nose.  “Hopefully soon,” she breathed.

“Hopefully soon,” he said, giving her a small smile.

***

One year later

Joaquin flew to the small homes a few miles away from the mutant school.  It was late, and he was trying to be stealthy as he landed on the roof of the cottage on the outskirts by the lake.  He tip-toed over the shingles until he could reach the large bay window, where one of the windows was slightly ajar letting in the cool night breeze.  He pushed it open silently just enough to fit himself through, carefully stepping down from the windowsill to the hardwood floor.  He looked around the darkened room, save for one night light shaped like a moon that glowed a soft lilac color on the nightstand by the bed.  He walked over to the bed and smiled as he gazed at Y/N snuggled under the comforter, sleeping on her stomach with her hands under her pillow.  Her wings were exposed over the comforter, and he slowly started taking off his fly suit then sat on the edge of the bed.  He reached over and gently ran his fingers over the shoulder joints of her wings, lightly massaging them.  She stirred in her sleep, humming deeply as his fingers continued their course over the shoulder joints then down to the spot on her back in between them.   Her wings fluttered, the tips of the feathers tickling his arm as she groaned and rubbed her face against her pillow.

“Angel,” he called to her quietly.  “I’m sorry I’m late.”

Y/N huffed and slowly opened her eyes, peering up at him before smiling sleepily.  “Hey Papi,” she greeted him, her voice sounding hoarse.

Joaquin sighed happily at the nickname, his smile widening as he looked at her.  He leaned down and kissed the tip of her nose, and she scrunched it playfully at him.  “I’m sorry to wake you up, just wanted to let you know I’m here,” he explained.  “You can go back to sleep.”

“Not without you,” she grumbled and turned over to her side, her wings tucking themselves behind her accordingly to accommodate the change.  She reached her arms out and made a grabby hand motion at him, making him chuckle before he slipped under the comforter with her and snuggled close, tucking his arm under her neck to hold her against his chest and slip that hand down her back between her wings again, his other arm looping over her side and pulling her flush against him.  She hummed again, nuzzling her face into his chest as her hands fisted his tank top at his stomach.  He fixed the comforter to cover them both comfortably then settled against her pillows and let out a deep breath.

“I missed you,” he whispered into her hair.

“I missed you,” she mumbled, her words slurring as sleep started to overtake her again.

Joaquin let himself relax, closing his eyes as he listened to her breathe and felt her chest rise and fall.  The homes for her and her family were built quickly and they were transferred off base to them a couple of months ago, but he had a hard time getting time off to come visit her, so more often than not he would sneak out with the wings and fly to her.  It was hard, wanting to be two places at once: working with Sam and being the Falcon versus being with her.  But they made it work as best as they could, and Y/N was incredibly understanding and patient.  He couldn't imagine life without her now, and thanked his lucky stars every day that he was able to save her over a year ago.  His literal fallen angel.

[bewiiitched]

INTRO:

Sex doll (chapter one)

Warnings: MINORS DON'T INTERACT, +18, mentions of rape, mutant powers as drugs, violence, alcoholism, age gap (reader is mid 20's)

///////

The next day, just as he had said, Wade practically drags her out of his apartment before she has a chance to speak.

— Let me go! I know what you’re planning!

She growled, backing up heavily as the mercenary pulled on her arm, so she tried to kick him only for him to catch her leg and kick her back, causing her to fall to the floor. Seeing an advantage, the young woman was quick to strengthen her grip, grabbing the wrist that held his arm and gaining stability before kicking him in the balls, earning a groan of pain that forced him to double over for a moment.

Having lost strength in her grip, she wasted no time in pulling on his arm and freeing his leg, using both to hit his shin as she pulled, causing him to lose his balance and fall on top of her.

“It’s not me you have to— you bitch!

He groaned in pain, pulling away the arm that had been bitten while dodging the fist that was headed towards his cheekbone. — right, right, I get it!

He exclaimed, under her warning gaze. One touch and he would be screaming in pain. And the mercenary seemed to be considering it given his malicious look.

— You know a kiss would have done the same, no need to bite, but if you like it rough...

He spoke in a suggestive tone, earning an innocent smile from the female, before she squeezed the arm that kept her against the ground and all gestures froze. Maintaining contact, she simply shook him off by wrapping her legs around his torso and turning her hips to the side.

— Shut the fuck up.

She growled, knowing that he was paralyzed thanks to her touch and spasms were beginning to haunt his body.

— A date. — She answered in an accusatory tone under the mercenary's fixed gaze. — Al told me, a double date, really? Forget it, I don't even know how he agreed.

Releasing her grip, the young woman smiled sarcastically because although she had freed her body so that she could move normally, she had stimulated her nerves in such a way that she couldn't get rid of the annoying itch for a while.

Seeing how it took effect and she dedicated a series of curses to him, Wade's gaze made her narrow her eyes in suspicion. — He doesn't even know.

— Well, it's easier to convince him if you're already there. You know, he's not very talkative.

— He never is.

— Your girlfriend has arrived.

Wolverine's voice takes them both by surprise, and they turn to look at him only to see him standing in the doorway, now open, of her apartment. Standing in his spot and observing the situation with a look that makes it clear he wants to stay out of it, the older man's lips curve into a smile as he watches the mercenary suffer in silence.

Judging by his appearance, it was clear that the mutant was heading somewhere, and Wade wasn't about to let it happen. — Hey, wait, wait, where are you going? I need support up there.

He spoke, causing Wolverine to raise an eyebrow, watching distractedly as Wade scratched his right arm until wounds began to appear that healed within a second. — Are you going to stop this? Give me a hand here!

He moaned, looking at her over his shoulder, feeling the itch all over his body and nowhere at the same time. Giving him an innocent smile, she shook her head, ignoring the knowing look Wade was throwing.

— Me? It seems like a matter of yours.

She answered in the same tone, as she saw Logan get up and their eyes connected for a second, making her turn around and grab a beer from the fridge only to realize there wasn't any.

— Wade. — She called in a soft voice, but with a murderous look. — Where is my beer?

— I needed it for yesterday's party, more people came than I imagined. And Logan? He's an alcoholic with guilt issues, you're made for each other!

Frowning, Logan looked at him with a glare. — He also took a tub of your ice cream.

— Hey!

Offended, he opened his mouth to reprimand him for the lack of companionship until out of the corner of his eye he caught reader approaching with a promising smile.

— Oops, that's my signal, it's not good manners to keep a lady waiting.

He muttered before rushing to the door, but not before pushing Logan inside the apartment and closing the door behind him. Offering an apologetic smile, she sighed. — I can barely stand his nonsense and I don't live with him, I don't know how you haven't killed him already.

— I killed him enough times during the mission. — He spoke, calming his gaze when he noticed her discomfort at his presence.

— You know, it seemed like you were going somewhere and I don't want to keep you, that idiot...

— Was planning a double date?

Her look must be comical, since Logan sketched a small smile. With a slight stutter she soon realizes that his enhanced senses are to blame and the she can't decide where to hide to escape the situation.

— Hell, apparently he had everything planned since I didn't go to dinner or so Al told me, he was talking to Peter about it! God, I-I didn't even know anything until today and obviously it's nonsense, he just doesn't know how to face Vanessa and makes an excuse, you're not even...

Her rant fades away when she notices the mutant's gaze on her, and involuntarily blushes with embarrassment as she realizes her nonsense. Under his scrutiny the she squirms nervously and Logan doesn't seem to want to break the silence as he analyzes her.

At first glance, the concern he had been able to notice in her for Wade had made him think that there could be something between them, so the mercenary's explanation at that moment had taken him by surprise, and from there the subject had cooled, if his version of that world had died as a hero, what had made him cross paths with a Weapon X participant?

— I don't know what he told you but...

Her voice is almost gone, not really knowing how to approach the subject, and at the same time, having believed that it was all forgotten. What was the point of all this if he wasn't her Logan? If she couldn't repair the damage she'd caused?

— Your scent is overwhelming— he growls, wrinkling his nose which makes him take a step back from the sensory overload.

— Well, mine only?

She realizes that the similarities between both variants are not few, and yet this Logan has a tired look that he hadn't seen in the original. A disdainful smile crosses the mutant's expression as he takes the hint and takes a few steps closer, taking a flask of alcohol out of his pocket. He barely used it, but it had become a habit to carry it when he had been forced to leave the bars of his world.

With a wry look, there is a look of understanding on her face as he turns to take out two glasses. — I'm not the best person to share alcohol with.

"Or saliva. »

She thinks with a grimace, as she pushes the glass in his direction, sliding it down the bar until it threatens to fall but the mutant grabs it in time, serving alcohol to both of them, she licks her lips thinking of what to say, she stops with a light laugh, the whole situation is ridiculous.

— You're not even him, you have to think I'm crazy.

She murmured, taking a seat behind the counter of her kitchen. Then she begins: — During my period in Weapon X, I was in charge of keeping the rest of the mutants in line, supervising the safety of the staff while they carried out the experiments.

She pauses to take a drink, and her expression turns sour at the memories that form in her mind. — Other times, it was to test their limits, punish them or make them more docile.

She can see the mutant's gears turning to understand the situation, and he opens his mouth with a cautious expression. — Did Mouth say something about fluids...?

— Aphrodisiacs? Yeah, fuck him.

Her voice is filled with disgust.— My power is... I usually explain it like a wolf in sheep's clothing. It's in my blood, saliva, in my tears, etc. It needs to get into the person's system in order to control their nerves. However, that's not the danger.

She rolls her eyes, taking another drink, longer than the last. — Once it's in the person's system, the person loses their mind from lust, it's a piece of cake to get information. — She whisper, watching him refill her glass in silence.

— Wade wasn't lying when he told you. When they realized that my use was another, they put me as a spy or a mere distraction.

There's a resignation in her tone, which makes him tilt his head, remembering the mercenary's words about how Vanessa and she seemed to have a pretty close relationship. And yet, a look of disgust crosses his face at the idea that she had dedicated herself to espionage.

— Did you join the X-Men?

He ask, there is a slight accusation in his voice, and is huskier than usual, however, she raised her eyebrows, letting herself lean on the back of the chair. — Do you think they would have accepted me?

She smirks mockingly, staring at her empty glass while her hand rests on her chin. — It was a one night stand and I almost die.

Her discomfort in talking about it makes it clear that it's about him, or rather the other Logan. However, the mention of his near death makes Logan look at her, catching longing on her face.

— I had started to rebel after the last missions, well. — She stops, with a sneer on her face. — To be fair, since they had ordered me to spy. They sent me on a suicide mission to test your limits, not even getting information out of you, there was nothing that could interest them beyond whether you could be incapacitated. If you could be, it would mean that we could keep Wade under control. But Ajax had been ordered to kill him.

Wade's words make sense and Logan's gaze darkens. — You...?

He is immediately interrupted by the her expression, his nose catching her scent as she downplays the matter with a gesture of her hand. — At all costs. —

— You didn't want to.

— No one did.

[winxanity-ii]

UNCONVENTIONAL ALLIES

ship: deadpool!gojo x fem!mutant!reader x wolverine!geto warnings: non-explicit word count: 3.3k a/n: Writing this was so much fun! I just love blending different worlds and seeing what kind of chaos unfolds 😂. Hope you enjoy this wild ride! 💖

★·.·´🇯‌🇺‌🇯‌🇺‌🇹‌🇸‌🇺‌ 🇰‌🇦‌🇮‌🇸‌🇪‌🇳‌ 🇲‌🇦‌🇸‌🇹‌🇪‌🇷‌🇱‌🇮‌🇸‌🇹‌`·.·★

You were sitting at a dingy, neon-lit bar tucked away in a forgotten corner of the city.

The place smelled of stale beer, fried food, and something musty that clung to the faded upholstery of the worn-out bar stools.

A jukebox in the corner plays a muffled tune, the kind that barely competes with the low hum of conversation and the occasional clatter of pool balls.

The air was thick, not just with the haze of cigarette smoke but with the weight of a thousand stories that had soaked into the cracked wooden walls over the years.

You were hunched over a dog-eared copy of your Anatomy & Physiology textbook, muttering terms under your breath like some sort of desperate mantra—brachialis, trapezius, sternocleidomastoid—trying to cram as much information as you could before your brain decided it's had enough.

You had read the same sentence three times now, and each time the words made less sense than before. Frustration bubbled up in your chest.

With a heavy sigh, you sat back and threw your head back against the creaky barstool, feeling the weight of everything crashing down on you at once.

The looming specter of your upcoming exam was like a shadow over your thoughts, a constant reminder of how much was riding on you passing this class.

Your mind raced, not just with the material you were supposed to be studying, but with the overwhelming tide of stress that came from being swamped in thousands upon thousands of dollars in student loans.

Every page you turned felt like another reminder of just how deep you were in. And as if that wasn't enough, the thought of returning to your messy, noisy dorm made you groan inwardly.

Your roommate had been a nightmare lately—blasting music at odd hours, leaving her stuff everywhere, and treating the place like her personal dumping ground. It was impossible to find peace, and it was driving you insane.

You reached over for your drink—a grapefruit High Noon, the only small comfort you had allowed yourself tonight. The cold, fizzy liquid was a slight balm against the headache building behind your eyes.

You took a long sip, letting the bitterness wash over your tongue as you tried to drown out the noise around you and the noise in your head.

Just as you were about to return to the same sentence you had been trying to absorb for the last ten minutes, you noticed movement at the far end of the bar. Two guys slipped in, almost unnoticed, except for the way they carried themselves—like they weren't just walking into a bar, but onto a stage.

One was wearing a skintight red and black suit that clung to his lean, muscular frame, showcasing his agility and strength. The suit had a dark, almost tactical look, with black patches accentuating the deep red fabric. It was all about practicality and style, with twin katanas strapped to his back in a sleek 'X' formation, ready to be drawn at a moment’s notice.

His mask was a full-head covering, stretching tightly over every contour, leaving no part of his face nor hair exposed. The eye areas were reinforced with black outlines, creating a stark contrast against the red, giving the impression of expressive eyes even though they were hidden.

Overall, he looked like he was dressed for battle, but even then, there was a playfulness in his stance, like he was just waiting for the fun to start.

The other guy was in all black. His outfit fully leather, tough but flexible, perfect for someone who needed to move fast and hit hard. It was sleek, with subtle detailing that caught the light when he shifted. Over his eyes, he wore a sharp mask, a slim black visor that added to his already intimidating presence. His long black hair is tied back into a neat bun at the back of his head, adding a touch of elegance to his otherwise rugged appearance. His hands were gloved, with a weird alteration that freed his knuckles on up.

The whole look was one of power and precision, every inch of him screaming danger, but in a way that was somehow... controlled. Like he was the kind of guy who didn't make idle threats.

Together, they were an odd pair—one dressed like he was ready for a chaotic spree, the other like he was here to end a war. And yet, there was a strange harmony between them, like they had been through this dance a hundred times before.

"What's with these two?" you muttered under your breath with a snort, flipping a page in your textbook without really seeing it. "Comic-Con isn't for another month."

The two men walked further into the bar, their steps measured and purposeful. A few patrons glanced their way, curiosity flickering in their eyes for a moment before they turned back to their drinks and quiet conversations, uninterested in the newcomers.

You silently watched from your tucked-away spot, noting how out of place they looked against the bar's grimy, dimly lit backdrop.

They made their way to the bar, their movements fluid yet distinct—one with a swagger that screamed "look at me," the other moving like a shadow, quiet and precise.

Thinking this was the end of it, you forced yourself to refocus on your textbook, trying to absorb the intricate connection of human muscles that had been eluding you all night.

Just as you started to get a grip on the complex anatomy, two shadows fell over your book, fully obscuring what little light the dim bar offered.

You sucked your teeth with an annoyed "tch," glaring up, ready to tell off whichever group of men thought they'd get lucky tonight. But your words got caught in your throat when you realized who was standing before you—the two men from earlier.

The one in red, who now sat in the seat next to you, had a vibrant galaxy cocktail in hand, stirring it with a straw like he had all the time in the world.

You blinked, momentarily taken aback by the surreal scene, but quickly got back on track. With a disinterested, sarcastic tone, you asked, "What could I possibly help you two gentlemen with?"

The man in black opened his mouth to speak, but the one in red jumped in. "Oh, there's a lot you could help us with! Cooking, lending us some cash, maybe even—"

"Deadpool," the one in black interrupted, his tone flat but carrying a note of irritation.

The man in red's head snapped towards him. "Huh? What's up?"

The one in black groaned, rubbing the bridge of his nose with clear exasperation. He turned to you, his demeanor shifting to something almost apologetic. "We don't mean to interrupt your evening, but we're looking for 'Y/N.' We've asked around and heard that she often frequents this bar."

For a moment, you just sat there, heart pounding in your chest. Your mind was racing, but outwardly, you kept your expression cool and passive.

You tilted your head and nodded realistically, pretending to be unfazed. "Oh, Y/N? She's my roommate. We come here sometimes to study for our exams, but she flaked on me tonight. Guess she got caught up," You paused, then asked casually, "What do you need from her? I can pass along a message if you'd like."

The two men exchanged a glance, and the one in red burst out with a long, drawn-out "Wow, you're good!" He turned to his companion, still twirling his straw in his drink. "Bro, if we didn't have a pic, I'd 100% believe her," he said, holding both hands up in mock surrender.

You froze, your breath hitching in your throat. Your mind raced, a thousand thoughts per second.

Before you could think of a way to escape or talk your way out, the man in red turned back to you. "Look, toots, I'll be honest—we need you. Now, I understand how scary this may be, two men coming in and searching for little ol' you, but you have no worries, I promise."

The man in black spoke up, his tone more measured. "Yes, like he said, we're not here to harm you. We just—"

His friend cut him off, leaning in closer. "You want to trust us? Look," he said, before abruptly reaching up and pulling off his mask. "Bam! Face reveal!"

Underneath the mask, his features were striking: bright blue eyes that practically glowed in the dim light of the bar, and a handsome face with sharp cheekbones and a strong jawline. His hair was cut short in a buzzcut, white as freshly fallen snow, adding a stark contrast to the dim, smoky atmosphere around him.

His skin was marked with faint burn scars, lines and patches that wove across his face like a map of past battles and close calls. Yet, these scars didn't detract from his appearance; they only added to his rugged, mysterious allure, hinting at the untold stories and experiences that lay beneath the surface.

The one in black sputtered, "D-Deadpool, what the fu—"

"You can stop with the code names, Geto," the man in said with a smirk. "We gotta get her to trust us."

The one in black—Geto—groaned, pinching the bridge of his nose again in frustration. "At my expense, though?"

Deadpool shrugged nonchalantly, leaning on his hands and tilting his head down to take a sip from his drink. "Why wouldn't I? You expect me to call you 'Wolverine' all night yet we know her name? I wouldn't trust us either."

Geto groans again, his patience clearly wearing thin. "Again with the 'trust us' bullshit. That still doesn't give a good reason why you revealed my fucking name and not your own.”

Deadpool just lets out a giggle, shrugging again with a carefree grin. "Oops?"

Geto stared at him blankly for a moment before bluntly stating, "Fuck you, Gojo Satoru."

Satoru's mouth dropped open in mock shock. "W-Wha… why… my entire government name, bro??? Even the damn Japanese format??? It was just a last name, you're acting like I said Geto Suguru..."

Suguru just ignored his outburst, turning his attention back to you, his expression serious once more. "Now, as I was saying, we've been searching for you."

You blinked, snapping yourself out of the mini-panic swirling in your mind, now acutely aware of the two men surrounding you—Satoru sitting casually beside you and Suguru standing in front of you with a more guarded stance.

"And why would that be?" you asked cautiously, trying to mask the nervous energy coursing through you.

Satoru, never one to let a moment of tension linger, cut in with a playful grin. "Because our jobs tend to get really messy, and we need a pair of healing hands for quicker recovery times. Besides, something's telling me you might be up for a little adventure."

You raised an eyebrow and snorted, unimpressed by his casual tone. "And why would I want to do that?"

Suguru finally spoke up, his voice gravelly and weighted with a seriousness that cut through Satoru's playful demeanor. "You look knowledgeable in the medical field," he said plainly. "And like Satoru said, our line of work tends to need that kind of expertise."

Before you could even think of a response, Satoru umped back in, his grin widening even more. "Plus, we've got a feeling you'd make a great addition to our little team. It's not every day you find a cute healer; most tend to be old crones."

And there it was. The mention of your healing powers.

You're not sure how, but it seemed like no matter where you went, that knowledge always managed to catch up with you.

Being a mutant wasn't something you advertised; it wasn't something you wore on your sleeve. Especially not in a world where the line between acceptance and fear was still razor-thin, where prejudice against mutants ran deep.

You'd learned early on to keep your abilities under wraps.

The hate and mistrust toward mutants had only grown more intense over the years, with some humans seeing you as a threat rather than a person.

Sure, there were heroes and vigilante groups like the X-Men who fought for mutant rights and tried to prove that mutants could be protectors, not dangers. But still, the divide remained. A silent, persistent wall between those who could heal and those who only knew how to fear.

It wasn't just about staying safe. It was about maintaining some semblance of a normal life, of blending in.

The last thing you needed was to be dragged into the chaos of someone else's fight, to be seen as a tool rather than a person. Yet here you were, once again, your secret laid bare before these strangers who seemed to know more about you than you were comfortable with.

You swallow hard, trying to keep your expression neutral, ready to tell them you had absolutely no interest in whatever scheme they were trying to pull you into. But before the words left your mouth, the door to the bar slammed open, the sound echoing through the room like a gunshot.

A group of burly men stormed in, instantly grabbing the attention of everyone present. The leader—a rough-looking guy with a missing hand, which was poorly wrapped in a blood-soaked bandage—scanned the room with a snarl until his eyes landed on Satoru.

His face contorted into a scowl as he pointed his bleeding nub directly in your direction. "That's them!" he growled, his voice filled with fury. "Get those bastards!"

Before you could even react, the men charged forward, but Satoru's grin only grew wider, like he had been waiting for this exact moment. Suddenly, he threw a hand up, shouting, "Wait!"

The men paused, looking confused, their momentum halted by the unexpected command.

Satoru stood up slowly, the corners of his mouth curling into a mischievous smirk as he loudly slurped down the rest of his cocktail.

He released an exaggerated "Ahhh" of satisfaction, savoring the last drop before shoving his mask back on with a quick flick of his wrist. He turned to the men with a gleeful expression and said, "Okay, I'm ready, boys~."

Without missing a beat, he launched himself into the fray.

The bar erupted into chaos.

Satoru moved like a blur, dodging a punch with a fluid twist of his body, then delivering a quick jab to his attacker’s gut.

It was almost like a dance, his movements graceful yet deadly.

He ducked under a swing, flipped over a table with the ease of a seasoned acrobat, and landed a perfectly timed kick that sent one guy crashing into the jukebox, which sputtered and then blasted out distorted music. "Nice try, but you're gonna have to do better than that!" he quipped, his voice filled with that unmistakable humor.

Suguru was a stark contrast. All raw power and precision, he grabbed one of the men by the collar and slammed him into the nearest wall.

The impact left a dent in the plaster, and the guy crumpled to the floor, unconscious.

Suguru didn't waste a single movement—every punch, every kick was delivered with a calculated brutality meant to incapacitate. "Stay down, monkey," he muttered, his voice low and dangerous, as he drove a knee into another attacker's stomach, sending him reeling backward into a table, which collapsed under the weight.

As the fight intensified, bar patrons started scrambling for the exit, knocking over chairs and tables in their haste to escape.

The bartender, a burly man with a grizzled beard, stepped out from behind the bar, shouting above the noise. "Hey! You're gonna pay for this mess! Take your fight outside, or I'll—"

Before he could finish his sentence, the leader with the missing hand growled in frustration. "Shut up!" He grabbed a glass from the bar with his good hand and hurled it at the bartender, the glass shattering against his skull.

The bartender stumbled back, eyes wide with shock, before collapsing behind the counter, blood pooling around his head.

The violence seemed to escalate, everything becoming a blur of fists, broken glass, and shouts.

A chair flew across the room, smashing into the wall near where you were crouched, and you instinctively threw up your arms to shield yourself from the splinters. Heart racing, you knew you had to get out, but the chaos was overwhelming.

One of the attackers swung a metal pipe at Satoru, who effortlessly sidestepped and countered with a spinning kick that knocked the man off his feet and sent him sliding across the bar’s sticky floor. "You guys really know how to make a guy feel special~" Satoru laughed, eyes alight with adrenaline.

Wide-eyed, you stuttered, "H-Holy shit," as your flight set in. Hastily, you tried to pack up all your things, shoving books and papers into your backpack with trembling hands.

Just as you threw the bag over your shoulders and turned to make a run for it, a rough hand reached out and grabbed your puffed ponytail in a tight grip.

"Where do ya think you're going, girly? Leavin' your crew so soon?" a gruff voice sneered.

You looked up to find one of the thugs grinning down at you with a mouth full of yellowed teeth.

Desperation bubbled up as you blubbered, "L-Look, I have nothing to do with this, I swear! I'm just a struggling college student!" You weakly rubbed your hands together, hoping to somehow appeal to his sense of mercy—if he even had one.

The man let out a wet cackle, but just as dread washed over you and you thought your life was about to end, his eyes widened in shock. An arm had looped around his neck from behind, pulling him back with surprising strength.

It was Suguru.

"That's no way to treat a lady, now is it?" he growled into the man's ear, his voice low and dangerous.

With his free hand, Suguru shot his arm out, and you watched in stunned silence as three sharp metal claws extended from between his knuckles with a sharp "snikt."

In one swift motion, Suguru slashed upward, driving the claws through the man's head with a sickening gurgle. His movements were methodical, almost surgical—each strike designed not just to disable, but to finish his opponent swiftly and efficiently.

"This is getting messy," he muttered, casting a quick glance your way. "Stay low and keep your head down."

A small splatter of fresh blood dotted your face, hot and sticky. Too shocked to speak, you could only nod wordlessly, your heart hammering in your chest.

A flash of metal cut through the dim light as Suguru disarmed another attacker, the weapon clattering to the ground.

The jukebox, now playing a scratchy rendition of an old rock song, suddenly exploded into sparks as another attacker was thrown against it, his weight too much for the old machine to bear.

The smell of burning circuitry filled the air, mixing with the scent of spilled alcohol and the coppery tang of blood.

Just as you thought things couldn't get any worse, the leader of the group grabbed a table leg and charged at Suguru with a wild roar. He swung the makeshift club with all his might, but Suguru sidestepped, letting the momentum carry the leader past him.

Suguru turned and delivered a punishing elbow to the back of the leader’s neck, sending him crashing to the ground.

With a few men down, Satoru turned to you, his eyes sparkling with amusement despite the chaos. "Looks like you're coming with us, whether you like it or not," he teased, and before you could argue, he rushed over, scooping you up over his shoulder as if you weighed nothing. "Hang on tight, princess!"

You began shouting, "Wait—what!? You can't be serious!!" just as your world flipped upside down in an instant.

Satoru's grip was surprisingly firm, and you were jostled around like a ragdoll as he darted through the chaos of the bar, cackling like a madman. Chairs and debris flew past, and you clutched onto him, trying not to lose your dinner.

Suguru, maintaining his composure amidst the chaos, bent down to grab your bag and textbooks. He gave you an apologetic glance, his expression almost soft despite the situation. "Sorry about this," he said, his voice calm amidst the madness.

The three of you burst through the bar's front door and into the cool night air.

The sharp contrast between the smoky, dim interior of the bar and the crisp, open night sky made everything feel surreal, like you had stepped out of one world and into another.

Satoru's laughter echoed in your ears, wild and free, mingling with the distant sounds of the ongoing brawl behind you. "Trust me," he shouted over his shoulder, not slowing his pace even a little, "we're gonna have a lot of fun!"

As Satoru sprinted down the street, weaving through narrow alleys with you still slung over his shoulder, you let out a small, incredulous laugh.

It was half at the absurdity of the situation and half at the exhilarating sense of liberation coursing through you.

Because at the end of it all, against all odds...

...he might just be right.

A/N: hi guys! just wanted to post this after watching the new deadpool wolverine movie and binging on SatoSugu x reader fics, so hope this wasn't a too bad of a read; not sure if i'll actually do more of this or not 😩also, sorry for being gone for so long, finally dug myself up out of my lil ball of anger/sadness. now that i'm back at the dorm, i hope to bring you guys more of the lil delusions i have swimming about ❤️❤️

[siddyyyyyyyy]

Join us, please?

X-Men fanfic

wc: 5.3 K summary: Charles tries to get you into his school warnings: platonic story! telekinesis!reader, reader has anxiety, stalking but it's not actual stalking, one swear word, use of weed a/n: it started out as a drabble idea, now I'm unsure if I'll ever continue writing for this. (this came out more as a crackfic) Have fun reading, I'd be happy for some feedback!!

Sitting at a bar on a saturday wasn‘t really something you do regurarly, but this is a special occasion. Or rather more of a pathetic attempt to run away from your problems and forget about everything that happened in the last two days. The bitter taste of your pint makes you scrunch up your face a little, but you soon get used to it, and are now trying to drain everything out. Maybe, if you wouldn‘t work at a shitty fast food restaurant and had a normal boss, you wouldn‘t be here. Maybe then, you wouldn‘t think your life is a mess and you wouldn‘t be sulking here by your own pitiful, depressed ass.

The pain in your palms isn‘t doing you any favours, especially since you feel weaker than usual today. You knew using your powers more frequently would lead up to you hurting, but it��s not like you could neglect your teleknesis. You don‘t want to forget how it works, so you decided to try it out yesterday again. If only you would‘ve kept track of the time, you wouldn‘t be cooling your hands against the glass of beer at the moment.

Right as you are taking another sip, a young man sits beside you, wearing a warm smile on his face. Before you could say something or think more about this, he speaks up.

»Good evening, my name‘s Charles. All alone today?«

God, he speaks like a rich man. Is he a rich man? Maybe you can get rich tonight and finally quit your job.

»Uh, yeah. All alone.«

He keeps smiling lightly at you, a rather awkward silence falling over you both. Finally, your intoxicated brain catches up, realising you haven‘t introduced yourself yet. With a quick apology, you tell him your name and grow sheepish.

»It‘s alright, don‘t worry. I actually have some questions for you. Nothing sketchy, I promise.«

Whoever this man is, he‘s got some charm. But it works, and you‘re already listenening to him anyway. Come to notice, you have never seen this man before. Especially not in such a rowdy bar like this. He seems to be way too organised and polite for this.

After a small moment, he speaks up again, getting to his questions.

»Promise me not to freak out, but I know about your mutation. Your ability to move things around without actually touching them? Yes, so, we have that university in New York, people like you are trained there.«

Panic rises in your gut and you feel like this man is a danger for you. Of course, he expected that reaction, it‘s not the first time he confronted mutants to get them into his university. Before you could actually scream or get physical, he puts his hand up and continues to talk.

»I don‘t mean to harm you. Just help and get you a safe place. We will help you with your telekinesis.« Charles still seems calm and polite like before, seeing a hint of tension behind his expression. Whatever this is about, you are getting a hard time processing it. Now, come to think of it, he actually seems less patient. The way he worded it was polite and calm, but it‘s noticeable that he did this more often probably.

»No.«

Charles face drops at your blunt answer. But he has more ways to convince you.

»Darling, we offer excellent food and rooms to live in. It won‘t even cost you anything, we just want to make sure you‘re safe and learn to control your ability.«

»Yeah, that‘s what they all say. Charming me up at first and then offering me something unrealistic. Who even is ‚we‘?«

You scoff, downing the last few sips of your beer before setting it down and getting up to leave. Charles follows you quickly, making sure he doesn‘t look like a creep. He finds himself feeling stupid, of course someone would think that way when a strange man starts talking like that.

»By ‚we‘ I mean-«

»I don‘t want to hear it.«

You interrupt him, knowing better from studying ciminoligy for half a year by now. Second semester and all you can think about are the various ways of unknowingly getting into the hands of death. Or maybe your paranoia just got worse once you started uni, but that‘s beside the point.

Stomping out of the bar, the cold air hits you like a truck, immediately wrapping your scarf tighter around your neck and shoving your hands into your soft jacket. As if this isn‘t giving you an anxiety attack already, the man is following beside you, not letting up.

»Listen, we can talk about this.«

He tries again, putting his own coat as he falls in step with you. You, however, shake your head and keep your eyes forward.

»No. I don‘t want to.«

Charles tries really hard not to let his frustration show, trying out another way of figuring out what to do. He keeps his eyes on you, finally reading your thoughts to find out why you are so reluctant. As he does so, he finds himself more concerned than surprised. The fact that you are afraid of getting killed this way is something he didn‘t expect to hear. At the same time, your mind is so chaotic, it was hard at first to hear what you were thinking. Probably an effect of the alcohol, but something tells him this is most likely normal.

Seeing that he won‘t leave your side, you consider using your ability. Charles is faster, since he is still in your mind, stepping up in front of you.

»If you think using your mutation will solve your every problem, then you are wrong. Well, mostly. But this won‘t solve it, if not make it worse for you.«

He exhales once he is done talking, his expression growing more serious and authoritive.

»How did you even know I was about to use some powers on you?«

You try to pretend you don‘t have any abilities or mutation, not sure where this will lead you to anyway and being on edge from the moment he mentioned your telekinesis.

The man before you just smiles, seeing through the attempt of playing innocent.

»I read minds, dear. No way of hiding.«

His sentence throws a brutal shiver down your spine, feeling the strong urge to run away. Good thing you went the opposite direction of your dorms, so he wouldn‘t know where you live for now.

Charles sees how you are struggling, trying a more gentle approach this time.

»Look, I won‘t force you to come to my school, but I would recommend it to you. Here is my card with my number, tell me if you change your mind.«

He hands you over a small business card, the ink-writing neat and classy, it almost makes you forget how anxious you are. With a last look at him, you make your way back to your dorms with an uneasy and uncomfortable feeling towards this all. Just your lucky saturday.

◐

Next day was hard waking up, the slight hangover from the few beers last night were giving you a headache making you even more tired than usual. The business card from Charles is a constant reminder of how the night ended. In an unpleasant way. You were up for about three more hours, researching about the school and this man who talked to you. It‘s all so strange but familiar at the same time. You don‘t know why, but it doesn‘t sound so bad after constantly thinking about it in your lectures. Even now, as you are taking orders in the drive way, the idea of going to that school is more appealing than getting your dream job as a crime scene detective.

Another car drives up, hearing the motor through your headset and see it on the CCTV in front of you. You can‘t see the person inside yet, speaking the sentence you have to say at least a hundred times since this afternoon already.

The deeper, smooth voice tells you his order, a simple coke and fries. Writing the order onto your pad, you hand it over to your coworker and tell the person to drive up to the front window. Once he does, you help your coworker with the coke, the day being less busy now that it‘s nearing the closing hours.

You step up to the front desk, holding both the cup of soft drink and bag of fires, handing it over the open window. Once you look at the person, you pause. But you decide to pretend you don‘t know him, continuing with your job.

»That‘d be three-nintynine, sir.«

Of course, Charles smiles ever so politely at you and hands you more money than needed in return. You get the change behind the window, but he speaks up.

»Oh, no need for change. That‘s you tip, I know you work hard. However, I do need to speak to you. Your shift ends in fifteen minutes, no?«

Of course he knows that. Of course he knows where you work, probably even knows when you have to wake up for university.

You nod without argument, keeping your head down and sort the money in the cash register, really hoping he will just drive off silently and not cause a scene.

»I‘ll meet you at the back, then.«

Once he is away, you feel relieved and become more anxious in return. You sigh out heavily in attempt to get the uncomfortable feelings away, it not helping your situation.

»That guy bothering you?«

Your coworker at the food questions, looking ready to step in and follow the person you took the order from. But you shake your head in return, reassuring him you just had a long day and you get overwhelmed easily. At least he didn‘t hear exactly what Charles said, or else he‘d be running after that car in a second.

Your coworker is nice for that, also being strong and muscular, but you could handle this on your own.

Cleaning and sorting the rest of the stuff in the last fifteen minutes, and finally getting back into your normal clothes, you make your way outside to meet Charles.

You walk out of the back as usual and see the sillhoute of the man you just saw yesterday at the bar. He walks up to you, hands in pockets and still with that polite expression.

»Good evening. How was your shift?«

Fucking wonderful. You don‘t say that though and get straight to the point.

»Why are you here?« Charles seems either surprised or impressed for a moment, it‘s hard to tell.

»Just here to remind you of my offer. Not sure if you forgot about it since you had a few beers last night,« he answers back, putting his hands behind his back, »did you think more about it yet?«

Of course you have. You have researched about their school as much as you could, sacrificed your sleep for it.

»I haven‘t. I‘m not going, I have other things to do.«

You reply back with more intent behind it, leaving no room for arguments. As you are about to walk past him, he grabs your arm, making sure he doesn‘t hold on too tight and spooks you even further.

»You are making me look like a stalker if you keep doing this. Please, just hear me out on this.«

Charles sighs out, seeming to be done with any kind of options to get you into his school.

You stay firm and clear about your opinion, glad his grip isn‘t tight enough, so you pull your arm back to yourself.

»I‘m too busy for this. Don‘t show up here again, or I will get Robert out.«

The threat may seem empty for Charles, but he isn‘t some kind of creepy stalker who will argue with you on that. Indeed, he respects your words and makes his way back to his car, finally giving you some peace.

◐

It‘s been five days since you‘ve last seen Charles at your work place. Right after that night, he never set a foot into the restaurant you work at again. You have started to feel lighter and relieved that he didn‘t show up afterwards anywhere. Maybe life is worth living if there isn‘t a constant, annoying voice nagging you to join some mutant school. You don‘t even feel like a mutant, what is a mutant anyway?

Everything was peaceful, until you hear a knock at your dorm room door. You didn‘t think too much of it, it could be some of the other students asking for salt or some eggs, even though it‘s about ten PM. It‘s night‘s rest, why would someone actually knock at your door now?

Pushing your slight anxiety away, you answer your door. And you immediately want to close it again.

»Good evening, miss-«

»What in the actual fuck...«

You sigh out a curse, already closing the door but Charles puts his foot in between.

He huffs out, taking a step into your room. It‘s mostly decorated with posters and some personal belongings laying around on the nightstand and your bed, it not being as messy as most dorm rooms.

»Have you thought about it? Actually, forget that. We need you.«

Now he has managed to stun you. There‘s no way a mutant school or actual important people need you.

»What do you mean?«

You ask back, just letting him inside your room at this point, this being your last worry. He enters fully and feels relieved you aren‘t making a scene, starting to explain.

»We need more people in our school, and I‘m sure you have great potential. And we also need more people on our missions… if you are in for it.«

Charles keeps his expectant gaze on you, visibly tense as he waits for your answer. There‘s no way you would take such big responsebility to help mutants, already working on your actual dream job.

Finally, you shake your head in return, denying once more.

»No,« you take a step back, crossing your arms, »I‘m not joining, as I said before. I am not built for this and I‘m definitely not a mutant.«

Charles pauses at your answer, tilting his head a bit.

»Do you even know what a mutant is, dear?«

It feels like he has been living in your head for the last few days, now that you think of it. How did he even find out where your dorm room is?

»How did you get into my room in the first place?«

You ask back, raising your voice lightly at him as the realisation hits, making him a bit annoyed by your question.

»Again with these questions? Look, if you won‘t join us, lives will be at stake-« You inerrupt him, having no energy for this talk.

»I‘m not joining that damn school! I have my own studies and job, I can‘t just drop it.«

Charles understands your concern and eventually nods, speaking up again more softly.

»I get it, we can make sure you can live by our school and also get to your criminoligy classes and job. I promise you, we can get this figured out, if you just let me.«

He sighs out in the end, seeming more exhausted than you at this point. Is he always going after people this way?

»Maybe… I will think about it.«

He nods shortly at your response, seeing that you seem to think straight at least. Charles is really trying not to read into your mind at the moment, eventually speaking up again. More calmly, but still loud enough to alert the guards that walks down the hallway at the moment.

A sharp knock sounds at your door, followed up with a deeper voice.

»Miss? Is there another person in your room? You know very well that it‘s strictly forbidden, especially if boys involved.«

The voice, louder and deeper, tells you it‘s one of the more chill guards from outside. Still, you can‘t help but feel embarrassed and flushed.

»I‘m just talking to my friend on the phone!«

You reply back loud enough for him to hear through the door, glad he isn‘t walking into your room to be sure of your answer. Charles holds back on smiling at the situation, keeping his eyes on something else for now.

»If you say so… have a good night.«

With these words, the guards seems to walk away, leaving you be. You sigh out relieved, looking back to Charles, who seems to be more than amused all of a sudden.

»The term ‚boy‘ would be too young for me, but whatever. Just glad we didn‘t get caught, hm?«

He winks cheekily at you, approaching your window as he keeps his eyes on you for a moment longer.

You really want to punch him right now.

»Just… is it okay if I call you once I think about it?«

He nods in agreement to your question, glad you seem to be more willing to it now than before. The man opens your window and slips out silently, saluting to you shortly before he disappears into the night.

◐

Two days have passed, and you‘ve been a little more on edge these days. It‘s not like you haven‘t before, but this is just getting worse. The strange school and that Charles stays in your mind, being still unsure if he is sometimes flirting with you or not.

You shake your head, focusing back on the assingment in front you, writing another two sentences before growing frustrated again. This is distracting you a lot.

»What about now?«

That familiar, distracting voice sounds behind your ear again, jumping in your seat. You turn around quickly, huffing out annoyed.

»How long have you been standing behind me for?«

You frown, still holding your hand to your chest as you‘re slowly calming down from the jumpscare he just gave you.

He shrugs with a small smirk, keeping his eyes on your essay at your desk.

»A few moments. Your essay‘s good, could use some more words though.« He answers back, giving you some unwanted feedback.

»Well, what‘s your final decision?«

He gets back on track, trailing his eyes back to you as he stays leaned slightly over you shoulder.

»Uh...«

Your brain stops thinking, being still stressed from university work and that tough decision. In the end, you decide to just give in. To stop that endless game of his.

»Sure. I‘m going.«

He actually seems surprised at your response, having expected some reluctance once more. But you seem almost eager to join. Almost. He tilts his head, leaning back and puts his hands into his pockets,

»Huh. I expected more reluctance from you. In fact, I was ready to tell you about your deepest fears and secrets, but it seems like I don‘t need to do that.«

He smiles politely, getting sick of seeing it all the time. You won‘t mention it though, just feeling a bit tense again.

»Yeah, cool… when‘s that school starting again?«

Charles get back on the topic at your question, telling you briefly about the times and how many times a week you need to go to your trainings. It doesn‘t seem too bad, having training three times a week, and you don‘t need to attend to their classes since you are old enough and have your own studies to attend to.

»You can start right tomorrow. I‘m sure I‘ll find you there either way.« You nod back in response, sighing out softly to soothe your nerves about the whole thing. It shouldn‘t be too bad anyway, there‘s no need to be anxious or worried again. Finally, he seems to leave your room through your window again, taking a last look at you.

»Please don‘t worry yourself sick, it‘s not healthy.«

With that, he disappears out of your window, still wondering how he can be so quiet doing that. He doesn‘t even look stupid while doing so, how is that possible?

Getting back to reality, it‘s your time to pack your stuff to live in that Xavier University starting tomorrow afternoon, after your classes.

◐

Now that you‘ve got all your stuff for the university, getting out of your bus with your bag slung over your shoulder. Walking a fair bit, you finally start to see a big, rather gothic-looking building that should hopefully be the school you‘ll be going to for the next few weeks. It looks more like an old castle, but it doesn‘t matter anyway as you feel a strong breeze hit you in full force.

You finally drag yourself up to the big doors, getting in and relax at the warm air inside. There‘s chatter and younger people walking around, them probably being teenagers, which makes you feel out of place. Sure, you are a young adult, basically, but it‘s strange to be in the same space as so many teens. Shaking these strange thoughts away, you get to find the office of Charles.

On the way there, you accidentally bump into some of those younger people, finding them actually quite interesting. Especially the one‘s with obvious, physical differences. For example, a boy with horns, some girl with wings. It doesn‘t seem to end.

»I see you kept your promise.« You turn around to face Charles, again with his charming smile. But before you could answer him with an unmotivated comment, he speaks up and open the door to his office, walking in with you.

»I won‘t waste any more time, so I‘ll get straight to the point.« he goes around his desk, facing you again and leans his hands onto the surface, »We need another person like you on our next mission. Telekinesis is a strong thing, and I‘m sure you can develope your strengths even further. That‘s why I‘m glad you‘re here. You are ready to train, right?«

His serious expression softens, a small grin spreading across his face as he waits for your reaction. It‘s not like you have another choice anyway, being here already.

»Sure, why not?«

Hitting the mat with a loud thud, clothes getting heavy from your sweat and panting like a dog is the most exhausting thing you‘ve ever had to go through. His hand-to-hand combat skills aren‘t making this easier. It‘s almost as if he is trying to give you karma for being so reluctant on joining the school before.

»Fuck – can we stop for a second? I think I hit my head.« You pant tiredly, not having any more strength in your arms and legs left. But Charles doesn‘t show any mercy, chuckling as chalant as he is at you.

»Oh, c‘mon. We‘re only at round two and you‘re already tired out? Is your stamina really that bad?«

The light taunt is not making this any better. Your limbs are slowly recovering from the few sparring rounds and his teasing is starting to get to you.

You manage to stand up again, still catching you breath while he looks totally fine. This man is probably fifteen years older than you and seems to be fitter than you.

With that mentality and new motivation, you become more determined to beat him and become stronger than him. He tilts his head at you, seeming expectant.

With a deep breath, you focus on getting your telekinesis back into control. In this moment, you are glad that you practised your powers a few days ago. Without warning, he falls back, seemingly having been swiped off his feet by the air. Charles grunts and rolls to his side with a low groan and rubs his back lightly.

»Just now realising you can use your powers?« Despite him being in light pain from the fall, he still teases and pokes fun at you.

The older man stands up again and faces you once more, rolling his shoulder to release some tension.

»You didn‘t hesitate on the first time we met, though.«

That stupid smirk. You wish you could wipe it off of him right now, but now that he is your mentor, you can‘t do that.

With a brief shake of your head, he decides to drop it and be more serious for now.

»Okay, but seriously. I was actually surprised when you got me off my feet. I couldn‘t look into your mind at that moment.«

That was new. You didn‘t know you were this cool.

As he explains some more stuff of hand-to-hand combat and how to subtly use your powers. Meaning, you have to use them every day now and get used to it, as well as control it properly. But there‘s one thing you didn‘t tell him before, and now it‘s the perfect opportunity to do so.

»I actually… well, I made a rude costumer faint once. I guess I made his blood pressure drop abruptly with my powers and I don‘t know how I did that, to be honest.«

Charles eye‘s widen and he seems genuinely shocked for a moment. That is until he smiles, of course. He seems strangely excited about that. Able to control something such as blood in a living human being? That‘s the best and most horrifying new he has ever heard in a long time.

»Great! So, we know how far your powers can go and I‘m sure we can work with that. How about we train tomorrow again?« with a quick nod from your side, he speaks up again, »And please don‘t do anything else like that again. At least not until tomorrow.«

◐

Controlling your powers became easier as the days passed and you made it your new habit to unnecessarily use your powers when you were alone or at the Xavier university. Charles was proud of the progress, but your combat skills still needed some improvement. Of course, it‘s not easy to just teach you some tactical stuff when you never threw a bunch before in your life. But it‘s getting better. Slowly but surely.

Sure, he still gets cocky from time to time, but he is actually getting really helpful and seems to enjoy the training sessions too. But these things aside, the most important part is that your progress is quick and effective. Your powers are getting better under control and you‘ve managed to become even stronger.

Overall, your life has become more entertaining and less stressful. You moved to their dorms at Xavier school and managed to fire yourself from that awful fast food restaurant, so you don‘t have to deal with any rude costumers or your lazy manager again.

In all honesty, it feels really cool to be there in that school. You got to know more people and befriended some students and mentors in your age group. Finding out that there‘s more people like you, with various mutations, has been a refreshing and relieving experience. All these years having spent hiding your true self from everyone else, for your own safety, took a toll on you.

Having Charles as your trainer and mentor has its benefits. He actually is a caring person and you have seen him only have good or heartwarming interactions with the kid students around the school. He helps you get along with your powers and seems like the most understanding person on the planet.

Now, after three weeks, a lot of things have changed to the better. But some things also stayed the same. Your anxiety and paranoia, for example. You still feel the need to chek everything thrice and prepare yourself mentally for stuff a few hours before the actual event. It‘s safe to say it is taking energy from you as well.

Charles has mentioned before that his team needs you to help them out in a specific mission. That‘s why you‘ve been training for so long after all. In the briefing, you were sat at the table with the rest of the mutants, trying to pay attention to what Charles is talking about at the front. It seems important, but you can‘t wrap your head around anything he is saying.

Maybe that one joint was a mistake before walking into this.

With you eyes slightly red and watery, your body less stiff and your mind in a constant haze, it wasn‘t that hard to tell that you took something before this meeting. But could anyone blame you? Weed is known for making people relaxed and you were tired of being on edge all the time. Especially with these cool and more experienced mutants around.

However, you seem to have yourself pretty easily under control and no one even bats an eye into your direction, all eyes focused on Charles or the few documents laid in front of them. However, one person notices and he is actually concerned for a moment.

Charles steals a few glances at you, figuring it out a moment later. As he is explaining the plans and states some more information, he tries to read your mind at the same time.

When you have toothache is… is the pain in your mouth or brain?

Charles hears form your mind, glancing to you again before he ignores it and keeps going with the plan.

Wait, I need to focus. Is a hotdog a sandwich?

Eventually, Charles pauses for a brief moment during his speech before he keeps going as if nothing happened and stops reading into your mind for now. Wolverine scrunching his nose lightly and also steals a glance in your direction but won‘t say anything and just looks back at Charles with a light smirk.

Once the meeting is over, he sends everyone out but keeps you there for longer. No one seems to suspect anything, assuming he just needs to prepare you more since you are still a newbie. It‘s a wonder no one actually noticed or said something.

»Did you get how the plan works?«

You nod your head at Charles question, doing your best to focus on him and not on how funny his face looks at the moment.

»Did you also get weed before the meeting?«

Now his face looks less funny. How did he find out, you were doing fine.

»Uh… no?« You are really trying to pretend that you‘re sober and have no idea what he‘s talking about. But you can‘t fool him either way.

»Sure, you didn‘t. I‘ll brief you when you aren‘t high, but first I need to make sure you get back into your room.«

You look down, ashamed. He doesn‘t seem mad, but this is still a humbling experience. Eventually, he escorts you back into your own room and sits down with you to talk. Even when it‘s not easy to hold a serious conversation with you in such a state.

»Do you often smoke weed?«

You shake your head no, sitting upright next to him on the edge of your bed. Definitely not trying to come off sober in front of him.

»Then why did you do it today?« Charles is trying his hardest not to worry too much about it, feeling like it‘s his fault for you to think that drugs could help you in some way. But you only shrug in response and glance around your room as if it‘s the most interesting thing in the world. The man at your side sighs out and keeps his eyes on your, watching the slow movements of you eyes dilated pupils focusing on specific parts of your room.

This is frustrating him. Giving up on the serious conversation, he decides to end it here and try to give you some peace.

»Alright, I‘ll— « You already give up once you hear his first word and slump onto your bed, clumsy laying on it as he stands in front of it. Charles watches your limb body, making sure you‘re still breathing. Once assured, he lets out a breath.

»Just my luck… that‘s what I get for picking up a random person for this.«

He mutters under his breath while getting out of your room, having had enough for today.

◐

←MASTERLIST

[cas-backwards-tie]

Chapter One: Tough Terrain

Peter Maximoff x Reader

As Cold As Ice Masterlist | Next Chapter

Summary: After your trial, you're brought to the X-Mansion by the will of a man with hopes of offering you a second chance at life. You don't want this, and aren't so sure you can have whatever redemption this man is offering.

Words: 3.1k

Warnings: Being Bound, Guns, Law Enforcement, Prejudice, Shame, Guilt, Cursing, Injury, Fear, Political Undertones

A/N: I kind of watched all the X-Men movies recently because of Marvel Rivals, and well.. it drug up a lot of personal experiences, parallels in my life that I thought maybe I could try writing about? Plus, I mean, Evan Peters was super cute in this role! Still, pretty self-indulgent, but thought I'd post it.

You hadn't meant to be there that long; you hadn't meant to be caught. Avoiding capture was only a matter of time, you had to know that... right? After all, all good things come to an end.

Maybe you were just tired of running. Maybe that's why you let them grab you off the corner store that day.

Yet, there's never the consideration of how much dignity the consequences of your own actions would cost. Whether or not you've changed, whether you haven't, doesn't matter.

"Uncuff her," the bald man before the armored van's doors commands.

The soldiers hop down off the back, their arms interlocked with yours, wrists bound in the handcuffs they'd subdued you with upon capture. Your Converse catch on the lip of the truck causing you to trip, only held up by their strong arms, their hands still wielding the guns they'd originally intimidated you with. The gravel beneath your feet only further causes you to stumble in search of a grasp on anything for balance.

"I'm afraid we can't do that, Sir." One of the soldiers--Williams was scrawled across his chest--states in response. Classic cop move, what else would anyone expect? While the man might not be a regular cop, you'd seen enough to know they're all the same when it comes down to it.

"It wasn't a request," the bald man retaliates. While your eyes had been on the sandy gravel beneath your feet, hair hanging in your face and obstructing your view, you finally raise your head to meet the man's face. It looks familiar somehow; eyebrows furrowing, you try to place where you'd seen him before. Yet, that's not what truly catches your attention. Behind him stands the boy you'd spotted during the trial a few days ago, his appearance far too peculiar to forget.

The court room was almost completely empty save strictly for the necessary people involved in your case. That is, it was, right up until just before your sentencing. You'd heard the creaky door let in a breath of fresh breeze from the hallway faintly in the back of your mind, yet you couldn't bother to care when the fate of the rest of your life lie in the hands of the jury and this judge. The school district's defense attorney was brutal, while the one you'd been assigned was surprisingly progressive and kind. He was unlike anything you'd expected. A gift from God? Or a trap disguised by the Devil?

As you braced for the inevitable punishment you deserved, you couldn't help but feel eyes on the side of your head. With a quick glance to your right you'd spotted a group of witnesses simply watching the case unfold. Your life, really, if anyone bothered to think about what this was all really about. And while your heart was stuck in your throat, body practically paralyzed with fear as time seemed to slow to an impossibly agonizing pace, you couldn't help but stop and stare at the boy for a moment, if only just this moment. Everyone seemed to be busy watching the case, except one: him.

Sure, maybe it was the odd hair color, or the way his reflective silver jacket matched his hair, but it didn't really matter. The curious and sympathetic look in his eyes gave you pause. Out of the dozens of people in the courtroom, no one had looked at you that way. His penetrating stare alike his hair in that reflective quality; forcing you to confront yourself for all you are. All you'd done. Gaze refocusing on the old and slightly splintered wooden table in front of you, hair obscuring your face from him, you're too ashamed to truly be seen. While you await the people's decision, await the consequence you rightfully knew you deserved after that day. The one you're tired of hearing about.

"Are you threatening us, Xavier?" The other solider on your left speaks up, the rustling of the strap on his rifle is a sinister reminder that you're trapped. Easily at one's disposal if they care to do so. An undignified transfer from one group of men to another. Rendering you down to nothing but a dangerous possession. It was obvious the fear the men held for you just based off the disgusted looks and lack of eye contact they'd made with you on the ride over.

"That depends on how you look at it," the bald man answers, an unwavering confidence imbued in his demeanor. There's a fire in his eyes that you wish you could place, but you're completely lost in all the heightened emotions and despairing thoughts that sweep up your mind in their monsoon.

'Do Not Be Afraid'

The words ring out as if someone had spoken, but no one seems to react, and no one's mouth had moved. A quiet gasp leaves your lips and you attempt to whip your head around to spot if someone had gotten behind you, the movement jostling you within the soldiers' grasp. Confusion is surely written all over your face as everyone's attention shifts on you. "Nevertheless, the restraints are not helping anything. If she's to be in my custody, you'll have to remove them sooner or later," the man they'd called Xavier posits.

It wasn't that you hadn't heard him, but the back and forth between the men doesn't exactly register in your mind as your eyes flit around your surroundings trying to spot a way out. With all the events in the past four months, you'd learned one of the most important lessons: You're on your own. No one is coming to rescue you. You have to look out for yourself, because if you don't... who will?

Their voices feel like you're hearing them from underwater as you look past the boy with silver hair and spot many faces in the windows of the mansion. Everyone's watching you, everyone's seeing this, everyone knows. And there's nothing you hate more than being a spectacle. It's then that you feel the locks on the handcuffs pop open as the guards are reaching into their pockets for the keys, begrudgingly complying. The piece of metal falls toward the Earth, but you don't waste a second. This is your chance! This is your out.

Before you can think of your next move, you're already committed to the first idea that pops into your mind. Your elbows swing backward with all your strength as you jab both guards in the stomach. While they're doubling over, you run for it. "Peter go!" Grunts of pain and anger ensue, followed by the rustling of fabric and the metallic clicking of rounds being slid into their chambers.

"NO!" You hear the same someone yell as the sound of gunfire follows. Your heart pounds tremendously fast within your chest as your feet carry you further through the grass toward the wall of trees bleeding into a forest from what you can see. The encroaching sound of bullets whizzing by and pitting into the soil by your feet has you jumping in your skin as you momentarily cower and curl in on yourself before the instinct to take off only amplifies tenfold. To stop now would undoubtedly be a death sentence.

You're already three-fourths of the way to the tree line when you feel the Earth skating by much faster than you know you can run. Eyes widening, you look down only to spot that you've unintentionally aided your effort by subconsciously creating tracks of ice beneath your feet. The realization sends you stumbling, feet slipping atop the ice until muscle memory kicks in. You'd done a brief stint of ice skating when you were younger. Able to balance yourself, you continue onward, praying you can create enough distance between where you were and wherever you're going. Anywhere safe, ideally.

Wind races across your face as you soar past the terrain far faster than your feet could naturally take you. If ever there was a time or reason to be glad for your powers, it was now! Weight forward on your thighs and knees, you propel yourself in ways you'd only seen on television during the Winter Olympics. Just as you hear the gunfire stop and think you're finally far enough way to stop, you're met with a silver blur and a figure directly in front of your path. Swerving into a Hockey Stop, your body is launched up into the air, spiraling and spinning with the momentum you'd gained.

There's a series of 'oof's that tumble past multiple lips before you're able to open your eyes and take in your surroundings properly. Suddenly you're in someone's arms, eyes wide as you don't know how or when you'd even gotten there. He doesn't look surprised, yet he also doesn't look comfortable either.

"Ah!" The scream automatically rips itself from your throat as you scramble to your feet and out of his hold. The only thought you have is to get him away from you; going for a shove to his chest, your eyes widen as it feels like time suddenly slows down as you watch your hands change color before your very eyes. Hands hitting his chest with a thud, there's a crisp tink to it as your hands go white and ice spreads across his chest just where you'd touched him. That's all you see in the split second it'd taken before he's being launched backward into the air several feet away, ultimately falling into the shrubbery.

The shrill shriek that leaves the boy's body isn't anything you can bother to laugh at in the moment, your lips parted as shock completely covers your face. Stuck in the same position you'd been in, you can't fathom how or what you just did to him! Is he...? He can't be! Absolutely not! He can't be... can he? You definitely didn't just...

"Ughh..." the groan comes from the indented shrubs and while you can't see him from where you're standing, a relieved sigh escapes your body, every part of you sagging with the tension dissipating.

"Oh, thank God!" You praise the universe this time. With a moment to catch your breath, your attention falls back to your hands. They're skin color now. Did you only imagine it? It felt so real, though? So how did...?

It's then that the crunching branches and rising appearance of the boy elicits your attention. He doesn't look pleased... like, at all. With a drop of his neck from side to side in an attempt to crack it, he follows suit by crunching one fist's knuckles before the other. Stepping over the shrubs he'd been blasted into, he storms right your way. "Oh, I don't think so, Sweet Cheeks," he taunts.

Within a blink you're being set down on crunchy gravel, yet dizziness and nausea cause you to stumble. Somewhere in the back of your mind you register the hand around your shoulder, but can't question it at the moment. All you see before you is the van you'd been contained in, the guards at the ready with their guns pointed at you before you feel like you're falling, your world going black.

You wake with a start, body surging forward to sit up. "Ow!" You go from gasping for breath to groaning in pain in mere seconds as your eyes snap open in search of what you'd hit.

"Really?!" Someone yells before moaning. Pain emanates from your forehead, and a look to your right shows you the other person is also clutching theirs.

"Told you not to stand that close," a man with glasses teases from across the room behind an ornate writing desk.

"I know, Hank! I just didn't think she'd-" the boy complains, rubbing at his forehead. It's obvious you'd bumped heads, yet your mind is still spinning with questions. Where are you? How long had you been out?! Who are all these people? "You've gotta heck of a lot of fire there, babe. Or should I say-"

"Peter," You hear another voice say in a warning tone. Eyes flitting to the direction it'd come from, you can't help the way your face drops as you gawk at the person.

"Holy shit," you curse under your breath, the whole room going quiet.

"What?" The boy asks, looking at you with confusion until you guess it clicks for him as his eyes fall down over himself.

"Y-you're blue?" The words leave your lips before you can stop them, and while you can't look away, the others in the room apparently take the moment to redirect things.

The call of your name garners your attention. "Do you know who I am?" As your eyes slowly peel over the three people standing by the ornate wooden desk, you find that the blonde woman looks eerily familiar to you. Wasn't she at the trial too? All the events of today make you feel like your mind is turning to Jello.

"Should I?" Attention ultimately falling back onto the bald man addressing you, you're unsure how to approach this situation. Manners might already be thrown out the window with the way you can't really bother to care anymore. Everything that's happened the past four months has taken more of a toll on you than you'd realize.

"I would assume not, no," he responds, an indifferent look on his face. "My name is Charles Xavier, I'm the Headmaster of this school," he explains.

"You've never heard of the X-Men?" The silver-haired boy sat on the coffee table before you finally stops rubbing his forehead as he turns to you, a questioning and judgmental look on his face.

It feels like a lightbulb goes off in your brain as a look of bewilderment crosses your expression. "Oh, fuck!" Without thinking you hop up onto the couch you'd been lying on, pointing to the blue boy you'd questioned earlier. "That's why I know you! You're one of them, right?" An excited grin overtakes your features before you turn to the adults at the desk expectantly, as if for confirmation.

"Yeah," the silver-haired boy lets out a puff of air. "Cause he's the only X-Men here," he says sarcastically.

"If you'd refrain from standing on the furniture-" Charles Xavier begins.

"Oh! Sorry," you apologize, quickly hopping off onto the floor before the couch. "You're the guy who... what? Leads the X-Men? I saw something on TV-"

"Actually, that'd be me," the silver-haired boy says, to which everyone gives a disapproving look.

"You could say that, I suppose," Charles replies without a thought, ignoring the boy's response. "Peter, if you're going to be a problem, you'll have to go." By the silver-haired boy's frown, you can tell he's Peter. With that, Xavier's attention shifts back to you. "As you're probably aware, I testified on your behalf during the trial. Hence, your sentencing lessened and your arrival here."

"I'm not... this isn't..." you shake your head as you try to gather your thoughts into the question you're actually trying to ask. "That's not a part of it, right? I don't have to be an X-Men?"

"You don't want to?" The man standing to the right of the blonde woman asks, you finally take in the way he looks like a scientist with his white lab coat, glasses, and clipboard.

"Why would I? Glory? Fighting on behalf of the government and giving up my life for what, exactly?" You question.

"To save people's lives," the blonde woman responds, her figure shifting and changing into something... someone... blue. You recognize her. She's... Mystique, right? One of the most recognizable X-Men, the one a lot of people supposedly look up to in their community.

"Woah," you whisper under your breath.

"It's not an easy decision, I wouldn't expect just anyone to do it." While her response comes off passive-aggressive, you can't deny that saving people is probably one of the best things Mutants could do with their powers.

"Raven's right, however it is not a stipulation of your rehabilitation," Charles explains, "You are here in the hopes that you can learn to control your powers and show the government you are not all that they've been claiming you to be."

This gives you pause. You know what they've surely been saying about you while you'd been on the run. Though, while you haven't directly seen much of the news, you can only imagine the worst. Even during the trial they'd made it a point to call you a 'terrorist', 'monster', and a whole lot of other awful names. Yet, as someone who's never been considered a freak, you do not want to admit it, nor own up to it.

"What you did out there was remarkable," Charles compliments, "I do believe we would not have been able to save you if it weren't for someone with Peter's expertise," the man smiles at the boy. "Did you mean to do what you did out there? Quite a smart attempt to remove yourself from the situation."

It's then that you decide you hate this Peter guy. He's the reason you're here, why you're trapped right now, and have to endure whatever dull stipulations they'd dolled onto your sentence.

"This is a whole lot better than prison," Raven, or as you'd known her, Mystique, taunts. "I'd be thanking Charles right about now if I were you." Hand lightly drug along the man's shoulders in passing as she rounds the desk and heads toward the door, you can't help but feel embarrassed. Do they all know what you'd done? Why you're here? Shame and guilt begin to gnaw at your stomach again.

"This is a second chance for you," Charles repeats your name again, his tone encouraging and softer this time. "It's not a punishment to be here, I assure you. If anything, I hope it will help you grow to your fullest potential. Now, if you boys wouldn't help her with a tour, we've arranged a room for her up with the girls," he waves toward the door and it opens. "The boys will help acquaint you with the premise, and once you're done I'm sure Hank will be ready to meet you downstairs for preliminary testing."

While you sit on the couch unmoving your heart beating in your chest feels all too slow for the way fear takes hold of you. Paranoia, hatred, anger, resentment, grief, and guilt all dig their claws into you and you're left weighed down with no words. Nodding is the only thing you can do. There's no way out of this one. They'd just get this Peter kid to bring you back again.

Sullen, you slowly rise from the brown olefin couch and walk toward the doorway. You're unsure whether it was more ominous in the office, or if the utter silence within the empty foyer is more daunting. "It is not usually this empty," the blue boy speaks.

"Everyone's in class," Peter adds on, holding the door open for you kindly, even if he's frowning as you pass.

"Welcome to the X-Manor," blue boy announces with a smile you can only interpret as genuine.

~~~~~~~~

forever taglist: @ohdamnadam , @safarigirlsp , @jynzandtonic , @moonlightsolo , @penelopepine

[sergeantbarnessdoll]

Hiii can I please request a Steve Rogers x adopted daughter reader where she’s a 15 year old mutant with power mimicry (she can copy and use other people’s powers that she mimics) and mind control powers and Fury has forced her to be an agent for SHEILD ever since her parents (as soon as her powers started showing when she was 10) gave her up to SHEILD, so basically SHEILD has had custody of her since she was 10 and have trained her to use her powers and have taken her on missions (being a child she obviously didn’t want any of this and was terrified) and now that she’s 15, he wants her to join the Avengers, but she really doesn’t want to be a superhero (or a spy or agent) she just wants to be a kid and have parents/family who love and take care of her. 🥺 When Fury brings Y/n to the Avengers Compound (after calling Steve and telling him that he has a good candidate to join the Avengers). As soon as Steve meets Y/n, one he immediately clocks just how young she is (that she’s obviously just a child), and he also immediately notices that she does not want to be there at all and looks really uncomfortable, sad, shy, scared, and jumpy. Steve would be angry that Fury is trying to recruit a child, especially one who clearly doesn’t want this and looks terrified, and he’s even more angry as soon as he hears that SHEILD/Fury has been training her and using her for missions ever since her parents abandoned her at 10 years old, he’d point out that it makes them no different or better than Hydra or the Red Room. Steve would ask to speak to Fury privately (Bucky would definitely have a lot to say about this too, and would join Steve) and Steve would make it clear how wrong this is, and that he’ll gladly take Y/n in, but not as an Avenger, he’s fully ready and willing to adopt her and give her a safe, loving, and stable home in the Avengers Compound, as her Dad. Fury would argue about how “important” of an “asset” she is, and this is what would set Bucky off, he would be so disturbed about Fury calling that child an “asset” because that’s exactly what Hydra called him when he was the Winter Soldier, and poor Y/n is just a kid and SHEILD/Fury/The Avengers are supposed to be the good guys. You know Steve (and Bucky) would not back down from this, and would convince Fury to back off and let Steve adopt Y/n. She’d still be pretty jumpy when Steve and Bucky approach her after that but they’d be soft and gentle 🥺 Steve would promise she’d never have to go back with SHEILD/Fury, he’d protect her, and that she’d never have to go on another mission again🥺 And that if she is okay with it, he’d love to adopt her and be her Dad🥺 He’d enroll her in high school, spoil her, protect her, raise her and love her, and he’d be there to talk to her about the trauma she’s been through, he’d be the Dad she’s always needed🥺 When he goes on a mission with the Avengers the first time since adopting her, she’d be really upset and push him away the days prior (because she doesn’t want him to leave or to be left alone) and she’d be such a wreck while he’s gone that Friday calls Steve concerned for his daughter (maybe she’s having a panic attack or something), so he comes back early and finds her crying in her room🥺His heart would break for her🥺 She’d run up to him and hug him, calling him “Dad” for the first time🥺 Bucky would also know how to connect with his niece very well because what he went through with Hydra was eerily similar to what she went through with SHEILD (the only difference being she was born with powers, and Bucky was experimented on to get powers). Natasha (as an aunt) would be so good with Y/n too because if what she went through in the Red Room🥺 Sam would be a great Uncle to her too and her PTSD would break his heart 🥺

Don’t Want To Be A Superhero » Steve Rogers/Captain America

Pairings: Dad!Steve Rogers x Adopted Teen Daughter!Reader with Bucky Barnes/Winter Soldier, the Avengers, and Nick Fury

Summary: Fury takes you to the Avengers for you to join their team, but you don’t want to be a superhero. Instead, Steve adopts you.

Warnings: tiny bit of Angst, Fluff, language, mutant!reader, HYDRA and Red Room, child abandonment (reader’s parents), panic attack, crying, nicknames

Age of reader: 15 years old

A/N: Thank you for the lovely request @kpopgirlbtssvt 🩵

Written on my phone. My apologies for any mistakes.

Header made by @buck-star / divider made by me

GIF IS NOT MINE! Gif credit goes to the creator.

When you were a kid, you’ve always thought superhero and superpowers were cool, but now, not so much. When you were 10 years old, your parents gave you up to SHIELD immediately after you got your powers from being experimented on by HYDRA and the Red Room. You have power mimicry, which means you copy and use other people’s powers you can mimic. You also have mind control powers. SHIELD trained you to use your powers so you’ll be great when you get sent on missions. When you were a kid, you thought having superpowers would be cool, but it’s not cool at all. You don’t like it.

As of right now, Nick Fury is taking you to the Avengers. He thinks that you’ll be a great use for the team. You don’t want that. You didn’t say anything about not wanting to be a superhero to him so you just stayed quiet.

“Why did Fury call a meeting?” Bucky asks.

“I don’t know.” Natasha shrugs her shoulders.

Fury walked in the conference room of the Avengers compound with you following beside him.

“Good. You’re all here.” Fury says.

“Who’s the kid?” Tony asks.

“She’s someone who’s going to be part of the team.” Fury says.

Steve’s eyebrows shot up when Fury said that. He looks at you, studying your appearance. You look uncomfortable, scared, shaking, and shy. He can tell this is not what you want.

“Fury, she’s just a kid.” Clint says.

“A kid with powers who can be useful to the team.” Fury says.

“Can I talk to you privately?” Steve asks.

“I’m coming with you.” Bucky says.

Fury nods and went out to the hall to talk to Steve and Bucky. You shyly stood in the conference room with the rest of the Avengers looking at you.

“Do you want to sit down?” Wanda asks softly.

You nodded and sat down in the chair in between her and Sam.

“What’s your name?” Natasha asks softly.

“Y/N.” You tell them.

“How old are you?” Sam asks.

“15.” You tell them.

Meanwhile, Steve and Bucky were in the hall disagreeing with Fury about you being part of the Avengers.

“Fury, she’s just a kid. She doesn’t want this.” Steve says.

“She trained and did the work. She’s ready.” Fury says.

“Where did SHIELD even find her?” Bucky asks.

“SHIELD didn’t find her. Her parents gave her up to us after she got her powers.” Fury says.

“She doesn’t want this, Fury. She’s obviously traumatized from whoever experimented on her and from her parents abandoning her.” Steve says.

“She’ll be an important asset for the team.” Fury says.

Bucky’s jaw clenched and he cringed at that word.

“She’s the complete opposite of an asset. She’s a scared teenager.” Bucky says, trying his best to not get mad.

“That didn’t come from me. It came from HYDRA and the Red Room.” Fury says, handing your file to Steve.

“She’s not joining the team to do stuff she doesn’t want to do.” Steve says.

“Then what are you going to do with her?” Fury asks.

“I’ll figure something out.” Steve says.

“Ok then. If she does end up becoming part of the team, let me know.” Fury says before leaving.

Steve opened your file and read through it and so did Bucky before going back in the conference room. Steve put your file down on the table in front of Natasha so the Avengers can pass it along and read through it. Steve and Bucky were filled in on what you said while they were talking to Fury in the hall.

“When I was a kid, I thought superheroes and superpowers were cool, but I don’t think that anymore.” You say.

Steve could hear the pain in your voice. So could everyone else.

“I don’t want to be a superhero. Please don’t make me go on missions. I don’t like doing that.” You say in a shaky voice.

Steve and Bucky exchanged looks before approaching you. You quickly stood up out of the chair and back away from them. They stopped walking towards you, not wanting to overwhelm you even more than you already are.

“It’s ok. You can trust us.” Bucky says softly.

“We’re not going to make you do anything you don’t want to do.” Steve says softly.

You stared at them for a few seconds before looking at the rest of the Avengers. There’s something about the Avengers that’s telling you that you can trust them.

“We’re not going to make you go back to SHIELD. We’re not going to make you go on missions either. You’re going to stay here and live with us.” Steve says softly.

“Promise?” You asked.

“Promise.” He promises.

You felt relief wash over you. You walked over to Steve and hugged him. Steve wrapped one arm around you and his free hand rubbed your back to comfort you.

———

You’ve been living with the Avengers for a few weeks. It took a while for you to adjust to living somewhere new, but you like it. Steve kept his promise to you. No becoming a superhero and no missions.

After you adjusted to living with the Avengers, Steve enrolled you in high school. He spoils you a lot. Most of all, he loves you like you’re his own daughter, he’s protecting you in every way possible, and he’s doing his best to raise you. He also adopted you, which is the best decision he made in years.

“Hey, kiddo. How was school?” Steve asks as you walked in the compound.

“Boring cause we had finals today since it’s almost the end of the school year.” You say.

Steve lightly chuckles at your response.

He has to tell you that he has to go on a mission later that week. He’s just sure how you’re going to react when he tells you.

“I have to tell you something.” He says.

“Ok.” You replied, wondering what he has to tell you.

“I have to go on a mission later this week.” He tells you.

“No.” You said.

“Sweetheart, I know you don’t want me to go, but I have to.” He says.

“No!” You said again.

You seen Bucky walk in the room and ran up to him.

“Uncle Bucky, tell Steve not to go on the mission.” You begged, tugging on his arm.

“I wish I could, but I can’t, doll.” Bucky says softly.

You whined and ran to your bedroom. Steve sighs softly. He hates seeing you upset. He decided to let you calm down for a little bit. This is the first mission he’s going on since he adopted you.

“Is Y/N ok?” Sam asks. “She looked upset when she ran past me.” He says.

“I told her about the mission and she doesn’t want me to go.” Steve says.

“Aren’t you going to check on her?” Sam asks.

“I’m letting her calm down for a little bit.” Steve says.

After a little bit went by, Steve went to your bedroom to check on you. He knocked on your bedroom door a couple times before walking in your bedroom. You were laying on your stomach on your bed and doodling in a sketch book he bought you the other day.

“Sweetie, can we talk?” Steve asks softly.

“I don’t want to talk.” You said.

“I know you don’t want me to go on the mission, but you know I have to.” He says.

“Can you leave me alone please?” You say.

Steve sighs softly before leaving your room. He’s at a loss right now. He doesn’t know what to do. This is the first time you’ve gotten upset with him.

“How’d it go?” Bucky asks.

“She’s upset with me and I don’t know what to do.” Steve says.

“She’ll come around. Just give her some time.” Sam says.

“I hope so. I don’t like seeing her upset.” Steve says.

You, in fact, did not come around. You kept pushing Steve away as the day of the mission got closer. Steve doesn’t like seeing you like this. He wishes that there was something he could do without upsetting you even more. So when the day came for him to go on the mission, he tried to make it as easy as possible for you.

“I have to leave, princess.” Steve says softly.

You ignored him.

“Can I have a hug please?” He asks.

You still ignored him. Steve sighs softly before giving you a hug and a kiss on the top of your head.

“The mission shouldn’t be that long. We should be back by tonight. Call or text me if you need anything and I’ll come straight home, ok?” He says.

You stared at him and nodded. You watched Steve get on the quinjet. As Bucky was walking past you to get on the quinjet, you grabbed his arm, making him stop in his tracks.

“Steve will be fine, doll. I’ll make sure of it.” Bucky promises.

Bucky gave you a hug before getting on the quinjet. You watched from the window as the quinjet slowly went up in the air and then take off. You sighed before walking around the empty compound to figure out how to keep yourself occupied till Steve, Bucky, and the Avengers get back from the mission.

You were fine for a while, but that didn’t last long. The longer Steve was on the mission with the Avengers, you had a strong feeling that something bad was going to happen to him. You could feel that feeling getting stronger. Your breathing became uneven and your eyes began to fill with tears. The movie you were watching was long forgotten.

“Are you ok, Miss. Rogers?” Friday asks.

“N-No.” You replied.

“Would you like me to call Captain Rogers?” Friday asks.

“Yes pl-please.” You replied.

Friday immediately called Steve. His phone started ringing in his pocket. Is it a good idea to answer his phone while he’s in the middle of a mission? No. It could be you who’s calling him. That’s the only reason why he would answer his phone during a mission. When he got his phone out of his pocket, it wasn’t you who was calling. It was Friday. He answered his phone anyway.

“What is it, Friday?” Steve asks as he picked up his shield.

“Sorry to bother you, Captain Rogers, but it appears that your daughter is having a panic attack.” Friday informs him.

“Tell Y/N that I’m on my way and I’ll be there as soon as I can.” He says.

“Yes, Captain Rogers.” Friday replies.

Steve hung up the phone and put it back in his pocket.

“Is Y/N ok?” Bucky asks.

“No. She’s having a panic attack. I have to go back to the compound.” Steve tells him.

“I’ll come with you.” Bucky says.

Steve informed the Avengers that him and Bucky are going to the compound to make sure you’re ok.

By the time, Steve and Bucky got to the compound, which didn’t take that long for them to get there, your cheeks were wet with tears and you were having a hard time breathing. Steve and Bucky found you in the lounge room. Steve sat down next to you on the couch and wrapped his arms around you.

“It’s ok. I’m here now.” Steve whispers.

While Steve was comforting you and trying to get you to calm down, Bucky went to the kitchen to get you some water.

“This might help.” Bucky says softly.

You looked over at Bucky to see him holding a glass of water. You extended your arm out and took it. You took a couple sips of it before handing it back to him. He put it on the coffee table and sat down on the couch on the other side of you.

“You’re ok. Everything is ok. Just breathe.” Steve says softly.

You tried to get your breathing under control by taking deep breaths, which took a few minutes.

“Dad?” You say softly, looking up at Steve.

“Yes, sweetheart?” Steve asks, looking down at you.

“You came home.” You say.

“I did.” He says.

Steve smiles at the fact that you just called him dad for the first time since he adopted you. It warmed his heart. It made Bucky smile too.

“You called me dad.” Steve says softly.

“You’re my dad.” You say.

“Yes I am.” He smiles.

———

“Can I ask you guys something?” You asked Bucky and Natasha.

“Of course, doll.” Bucky replies.

“What’s up, kiddo?” Natasha asks.

“How do you guys go about your day without being thinking about HYDRA and the Red Room?” You asked them.

“I try not to think about it. Even though, the bad thoughts of them is still in my brain.” Bucky says.

“Me too.” Natasha says. “Are the thoughts of the Red Room and HYDRA bothering you, sweetie?” She asks.

“Sometimes.” You answered.

“Do you want to talk about it?” Natasha asks softly.

“Not right now.”

“If you do, I’m free.” Natasha says softly.

———

“You ok, kid?” Sam asks as you entered the kitchen. “You look tired.” He says.

“I didn’t sleep well last night.” You say, sitting down at the table next to him.

“Wanna talk about it?” He asks.

“It’s always the same. My real parents giving me to SHIELD and being trained to use my powers for things I don’t want to do.” You tell him.

“The good thing is that you’re not being forced to do anything you don’t want to do.” He says.

You nodded.

“Also, Steve loves you more than anything. He’ll do anything for you. That goes for me, Bucky, and the Avengers.” He says.

“Thanks, uncle Sam.” You smiled.

“You’re welcome, kiddo.” He smiles back.

You leaned over and hugged Sam.

“Is everything ok?” Steve asks as he walks in the kitchen.

“I didn’t get much sleep last night cause I had a bad dream and I told uncle Sam about it.” You say.

“I’m sorry to hear that, sweetheart.” Steve says softly.

You gave him a smile.

“How about you stay home from school today and get some rest.” Steve suggests.

“Really?” You asked.

“Yes.” He replies.

“You’re the best dad ever!” You hugged him. “Does that mean you’ll make me chocolate chip pancakes?” You asked, looking up at him.

“Of course.” He smiles.

“I love you, dad.” You say.

“I love you too, princess.” He almost whispers.

-Bucky’s Doll

[paperwayne]

to see a world (in a grain of sand)

Pairing: Pavitr Prabhakar | Spider-Man x Reader

Word Count: 8,430 words

Warnings: Slight body horror, canon-typical violence, parents fighting

You meet Pavitr Prabhakar in the same way the sun meets your face on a Saturday morning: without warning and very, very unwillingly.

In your defense, you’ve already established your stance on socializing by folding your arms over your desk and burying your face into them – but at the sound of his laughter, breathless and easy as he drops into the seat next to yours, you can’t help but sneak a peek at the boy who seems so bloody chipper this early in the day. Just for a split second to confirm that he looks as annoying as he sounds.

This leads to two unfortunate consequences.

One, the boy somehow notices that extremely minuscule movement and takes it as an open invitation to introduce himself.

Two, you learn that he does not, in fact, look as annoying as he sounds. (He’s horribly good-looking. Horribly, horribly good-looking.)

He opens his mouth and word vomit comes out.

“Oh, hey! I’ve never seen you before. What’s your name? I’m Pavitr but all my friends call me Pav. Are you a transfer student? Are you from Mumbattan –”

You open your other eye while he blathers on, stunned.

This guy can’t be human.

“—makes the best aloo tikki, so I can totally show you where his stall is sometime if you want. Sorry, what’s your name again?”

Your mouth goes dry when he finally stops talking to stare expectantly at you.

“… [Y/n],” you mumble, thoroughly surprising yourself.

He repeats your name back to you. “Cool! If you ever need anything, I’m literally just a desk away.”

You don’t answer this time, choosing instead to close your eyes and bury your face in your arms once more. You’re so tired.

—

Pavitr Prabhakar, despite your best efforts, is your shadow for the rest of the day. He introduces you to his best friend Hari Oberoi, discreetly points out his crush Gayatri Singh to you when she glides by, and attempts to drag you to the aloo tikki vendor after school lets out. You are only able to shake him off with the excuse of having tuition, and even then, he offers to walk with you (probably just to hear himself talk some more).

By the time you finally get home, you feel like you’ve returned from war.

“Beta, is that you? How was your first day?”

“Fine.”

“What?”

You speak louder, entering the kitchen. “Fine, Ma.”

Ma eyes you critically but turns back to the dinner cooking on the stove. “How are the teachers? Are they as good as Mr. Oberoi said?”

“Yes.” You pull out a chair from the table and collapse into it, breathing in the mouth-watering air until your lungs are fit to burst. “He has a son named Hari, by the way.”

“Really? He never mentioned a son.”

You shrug.

“Where’s Papa?” you ask, as you hadn’t seen his shoes by the door when you came in.

The spoon in Ma’s hand scrapes loudly against a pan.

The silence stretches, a tight and fraying rubber band. You straighten in your chair, eyelids not so heavy anymore.

“… Ma?”

She turns around. You swallow as she seems to look straight through you. “Papa’s in a meeting with Mr. Oberoi right now,” she says. “You’ll see them after dinner. Someone is coming by to pick you up.”

“But I have homework,” you say. “How come Mr. Oberoi wants to meet so late?”

“I don’t know,” Ma tells you sharply. You wince and look down, fiddling with the buttons of your new uniform. “But he’s done so much for us, and he probably has a good reason for it. You’ll find the time for homework in between.”

Wordlessly, you nod. Ma brings the food to the table, and you watch as she serves you and then herself, your hands clasped tightly in your lap.

The food does not smell as good anymore.

—

You tell Pavitr that you’re from a small village north of Mumbattan. He is overjoyed by the information.

“Me too! Well, I moved here when I was seven, but wow! We have so much in common,” he gushes in between bites of his lunch. “The big city’s a lot different, isn’t it? I didn’t like it at first, but now it’s like I was always meant to be here.”

You hum blandly and swing your legs, the backs of your shoes hitting the brick wall the three of you are sitting on. Why Pavitr strongarmed you into eating lunch with him and Hari is still a mystery to you, but you do know that it’s starting to get very hard to say no to the guy. Disappointing him leaves a bitter taste in your mouth.

Hari cocks an eyebrow at you. “Not hungry again?” he questions, gesturing at your untouched plate.

Heat rises to your cheeks. You shake your head. “You want it?”

“Huh?”

“Do you want it?”

“Oh. Well,” Hari drags out the word, then grins. “If you insist. No wasting of food, and all that.” You roll your eyes as he takes your plate. “Thank you for your generous donation.”

Pavitr reaches over you to partake in the donation as well, only to receive a slap to the hand.

“Ow?!”

“Drama queen. You haven’t even finished your own plate yet, Pav.”

“I just wanted a taste!”

“We all got the same thing for lunch!”

“Yeah, but the lunch lady doesn’t like me for some reason. What if I got less spices in my sabji?”

“You think the lunch lady unspiced your sabji specifically to spite you?”

“It’s not outside the realm of possibility!”

Hari gazes up at the sky and groans. “I can’t believe you’re one of the top students here.”

You eye Pavitr, who pouts and shovels the rest of his food into his mouth. Indeed, you’d have a hard time believing it too, if it wasn’t for the fact that his name is consistently at or near the top of the list when test grades are posted, as well as the fact that he’s never gotten a question wrong in class.

(As opposed to you, who is quickly becoming the bane of your science teacher’s existence.)

“I’ve been blessed with a good memory,” Pavitr defends. “And anyways, are you not worried about [Y/n] here?” He fixes you with what seems to be a concerned look. “I’ve only seen you eat lunch twice in the past few weeks! What about malnutrition?”

You open your mouth and shut it several times, face burning. Why is he so nosy? “I … I-I have stomach issues,” you eventually hear yourself telling him, because the other answer – that your digestive system has the nasty habit of turning into sand without warning – is a one-way ticket to a government lab. “And it’s kind of embarrassing, so could you not talk about it?”

“Yeah, Pavitr, don’t butt into people’s business,” Hari chides.

Pavitr splutters. “But you also –” he starts, only to cut himself off when he makes eye contact with you. A guilty expression crosses his handsome features. “… Ah. Sorry. I won’t bring it up again.”

“Okay,” you say. Then, as an afterthought and just to be polite, you add, “I forgive you.”

A smile spreads across his face again, wide and sunny, and you suddenly have a vested interest in the ticking of your watch.

This is bad.

—

“This is very good,” the Doctor says as you lay on the exam table. “What do you feel?”

“Everything,” you grit out.

There’s sand in your guts, in between your ears, crawling down your throat. You grip your father’s hand, and he squeezes it back just as tightly, the pressure many tiny prickles that somehow register in your wreck of a body.

“I’m sorry, beta,” Papa whispers as the Doctor types something into his data pad. “But it gets worse before it gets better, doesn’t it?”

You groan. You’re not so sure.

“A fully activated X-gene complex,” Mr. Oberoi says. “You’re very lucky, [Y/n]. Who knows what would’ve happened if it remained only partially activated?”

“Based on the progression of the images I took,” the Doctor answers, mechanical arms clicking as they loom around him, “their vital organs would have turned into sand before the completion of this … soul molecule, as I call it.”

(In other words, you’d be dead.)

Mr. Oberoi makes a strange, noncommittal noise. “That would’ve been terrible, yes?”

“We can’t express our gratitude enough,” Papa says fervently. “Thank you, Mr. Oberoi. Thank you, Doctor. We’re forever indebted to you both.”

“Not forever. Just for as long as we discussed.”

“O-Of course. Thank you.” A pause, then, “My child will be safe the entire time, as you promised?”

“As long as they follow my instructions, very little will be able to harm them.” You hear the man walk over to another part of the room, followed by the dry rattle of pills in a bottle. “Now, I have several things to discuss with just the Doctor and your child, so if you don’t mind? There is a driver waiting for you outside the building.”

Your father seems very reluctant, as he takes a minute to let go of your hand. You can’t help but try to reach out, but the discomfort is too great, and suddenly your arm is nothing but a pile of sand by your side.

It takes a moment to process the loss. When it finally does, you retch.

Papa gasps and scrambles to catch the few grains spilling over the side of the table. “Oh –!”

“It’s alright,” the Doctor assures. If anything, he sounds delighted. “They should be able to put themselves back together. Such is the beauty of their mutation.”

Mr. Oberoi approaches your side. “Go ahead, [Y/n]. Show us what you can do.”

“It hurts,” you say, biting your bottom lip so hard that it would’ve bled if you could. You’re barely holding the rest of you together as it is. When you breathe, you can feel specks of you falling from your mouth. “I can’t.”

“Yes, you can.”

They watch you struggle on that table for hours, it seems. But you eventually put yourself back together. All by yourself.

—

You get an unprecedented week of excused absences from school and stay at Oberoi Industries to adjust to your new body. Your parents are allowed to visit you at the end of that week. After that, Mr. Oberoi restipulates the conditions of your family’s contract with him, and you start working for him on the weekends and on Mondays and Fridays after school.

As for what your job entails –

“It’s like you’re new to this or something. Is this your first day?”

You scowl, molding your arm into a sledgehammer and heaving it at Spider-Man. It’s true that you still need practice controlling your sand, but the one-sided banter that comes with it is quickly getting old.

Spider-Man easily dodges and comes up behind you. His fist shoots through your back and out of your abdomen.

You look down as he chuckles nervously.

“Whoops.”

Sneering, you twist around and punch him down the street. He tumbles and flies over the tops of several cars (some abandoned, most still holding irritated commuters) before flipping himself right side up again with his webs, quickly swinging his way back to you.

“Can we bring this fight to the top of a building or something? We’re holding up traffic!”

“Shut up!”

He gasps, kicking a piece of your shoulder off. “Wow, that’s the first thing you’ve ever said to me! Now we’re getting somewhere!”

Using the web of telephone wires above the two of you, he propels himself upward and onto the roof of an apartment building. You have no choice but to follow.

“So, what’s your deal, anyways? ‘Cause it seems to me that you have a loooot of pent-up aggression, and I was just hanging around when you decided to try to kidnap me,” he calls out. “We can talk about your feelings if you want to! I’m your friendly neighborhood Spider-Man for a reason.”

Hanging around. Hanging –

Is he making puns right now?

“I told you to shut up!” you shriek, sand spitting everywhere.

“Sheesh. Okay.” Spider-Man zips over to a nearby water tower. Hanging upside-down in front of it, he crosses his arms. “… Is that helmet an accessory, or is it part of your face? No judgement; it’s cool either way.”

Oh, you want to break this guy like a twig.

“It’s part of my face,” you snap, and with a grunt, you throw yourself forward with a spiked fist at the ready.

That is a grave mistake.

Spider-Man pulls himself up and out of the way, and you hit the water tower, splintering the wood like paper. Water gushes forth.

You stumble back, anger immediately crushed by panic. Half of you falls off and lands on the roof with a wet slap. Try as you might, you can’t pull the sand back to yourself; the muddy parts of you are sluggish and messy, and the water washing over it just makes it worse.

Avoid water if you can help it.

Shivers crawl up your body as you drag yourself to the edge of the building.

Through the haze, you vaguely hear Spider-Man splashing towards you.

“Wait,” he exclaims, sounding worried, “are you going to be okay?”

“Go away!” you screech, kicking a lump of mud at him.

In a strange, belated stroke of fortune, you manage to hit him square in the face. The vigilante sputters and pauses to wipe the gunk away.

You grip the edge of the parapet and look down at the alley below.

You’ll cut your losses.

With hardly a look at Spider-Man, you gather up the driest fragments of yourself and rip them away from the rest, diving down the side of the building in a cloud of sand. A bangle shoots through you, useless.

Pressing into a single layer, you dive underneath the cars packed onto the road. Every single particle of you trembles. You try to clear your mind; as long as you have your soul and the footage, you’ll be fine.

—

“You keep losing.”

“I know.”

“Then why did you choose this game?”

Pavitr’s face remains pressed into the carpet as he mopes. “Because I won’t win if I stop trying.”

“Fifty. Straight. Wins.” Hari gets up and stands over Pavitr. He plants a foot on his back and raises his fists to the ceiling. “I am the carrom champion!”

A long, muffled sigh. “I thought I’d have better luck today” – Pavitr grabs Hari’s foot and pulls him to the ground – “aha! Got you!"

“Ow! Hey!”

Arms and legs flailing, the two tussle around for a few seconds until Hari’s in a headlock, and that’s that.

“[Y/n],” Hari reaches for you in an exaggeratedly choked voice, “help me.”

You stay in your crisscrossed position on the floor. “It’s Pavitr’s birthday, not yours,” you reply solemnly.

Hari’s face falls at the same time Pavitr’s brightens.

“See, bro? That’s a true friend right there,” Pavitr states, roughing up Hari’s neatly combed hair with his knuckles. “Nice to know I have some support while my other friend beats me fifty games in a row.”

“That’s how you know I’m a true friend. I don’t let you win out of pity,” the other boy wheezes.

“Another round?”

“Fine, fine.”

“Kids? The cake’s here!”

All three of your heads snap towards Maya aunty’s voice.

“Cake first,” Pavitr decides, letting go of Hari.

He leads the way to the kitchen, followed by Hari and then you, where Maya aunty has already taken the cake out of the box.

It’s a beautiful cake. Large, too, ideal for a nice, thick slice for each of you and then some, slathered in buttery periwinkle frosting and lined with candied cherries and whipped cream. Written on the top is “HAPPY BIRTHDAY, PAVITR” in red icing.

“It’s perfect, Aunty,” Pavitr gushes as his aunt sticks fifteen candles in between the letters.

“You get the same one every year, Pavitr,” she replies, though the crinkles at the corners of her eyes betray her amusement.

After lighting the candles, you, Hari, and Maya aunty sing happy birthday to him. You feel a little awkward singing – you never really sing, much less in front of other people – but the joy coming off Pavitr in waves as he holds in his laughter makes you mind it less somehow. Hari is a lot louder than you and way more purposeful about being off-key, anyway.

Pavitr blows out all but one of the candles. He cuts out a piece of cake and feeds it to his aunt, then gets another piece for Hari.

When it’s your turn, he hesitates.

“Are you sure you can eat this?” he asks quietly.

You look at the chunk of cake, with its soft frosting and fluffy red velvet crumb, and you suddenly ache for it. “Yeah,” you lie, because you know that it will end up in the trash later, dry and undigested.

Pavitr grins and lifts the cake to your mouth. You take a bite, and even though the taste is dulled to almost nothing, you know that it’s unbearably delicious.

“Whoops. There’s some on your face,” he says, and before you can even register it, he’s swiping the frosting from the corner of your mouth and smearing it onto your nose instead.

Your heart jumps. “Oh.”

Pavitr laughs.

“Okay, our turn.” Hari cuts a piece of cake and pushes it towards Pavitr. “Say ah, birthday boy!”

“Ah – mmph.” Pavitr scrunches his nose as Hari smushes the dessert across his mouth and cheek. He licks his lips and considers the taste, nodding satisfactorily. “Mmm.”

After Pavitr’s gotten his share of the cake and washed the frosting off his face, the four of you have dinner. Maya aunty is exceedingly modest about her cooking, but it’s obvious that she spared no effort in making sure everything was perfect. Pavitr and Hari scarf down everything they can fit onto their plates. You manage to take a few tiny bites of the rice and milder dishes.

It’s the best meal you’ve had since you moved to Mumbattan, and it’s not because of the food.

When the driver from Oberoi Industries comes by to pick you up for another appointment with the Doctor, it’s already quite late at night.

“You sure you can’t hang out here a little longer?” Pavitr asks while you gather all your things at the door.

“No, my curfew’s pretty strict,” you say.

Truth be told, you wish you could just blow off the appointment and stay in the cheerful little bubble of the Prabhakar home forever, but you need to refill your medications and make sure you’re not falling apart. It’s also the weekend, which means that you’re on the clock to record yourself getting a beating from Spider-Man.

“Aw. Then I guess I have to release you,” he quips, letting you out the door. His voice softens. “Thanks for coming, [Y/n]. It means a lot to me.”

You shuffle your feet, then look back up at him. “Thanks for inviting me,” you say, and you mean it. “I had fun. Happy birthday.”

Pav smiles.

As you walk down the steps and towards the sleek black car parked nearby, you find yourself wishing that your parents had been able to come to the party. They would have enjoyed it, you’re sure, and they would have gotten along well with Maya aunty. Maybe they would’ve remembered what it was like to actually be happy.

You miss home.

—

It’s Tuesday night and your parents are arguing again.

“He’s taking advantage of us. You know this.”

“And what can we do about it? Huh? After the accident, we didn’t know if [Y/n] would even survive. We should be thankful that Aadi had connections to Mr. Oberoi and his technology.”

“Do not give him credit. Aadi” – Ma seethes out your uncle’s name – “is the one who brought [Y/n] to the factory in the first place. This whole ordeal is his fault! He’s the reason why my child is suffering and why our life is like this!”

“He isn’t the one who caused the explosion!”

“That factory was never safe to begin with! Neither of you should’ve been working there!”

Peeking around the corner, you see Papa throw his hands up. “Ah, so it’s somehow my fault as well, then?”

Their voices grow louder, and you unstick your feet from the floor, softening them to creep silently back into the hallway and into your room. You crawl into bed and wrap your pillow around your ears.

For as long as you can remember, your parents have been soft-spoken, nonconfrontational people. They rarely fought before the move. Now, this same conversation happens every other day and ends the same way every time: no resolution, just yelling until one of them storms off to cool down in their bedroom. What starts with Mr. Oberoi and the contract veers into a bitter tangle of what should’ve been done and whose fault it is for how things have turned out.

You, of course, are at the root of it all.

The noise seeps in through your pillow. You uncover your ears and lay flat on your back.

For a moment, you contemplate texting Pav or Hari to distract yourself. But you never initiate a texting conversation, and to do so randomly and this late at night is bound to raise some unwanted questions, so you quickly discard the idea. Besides, after what happened today, you’re not too keen on speaking to Pav.

Your gaze slides over from the ceiling to your window. The curtains are drawn, dark and heavy. You don’t exactly feel like you’re in your own body when you get out of bed to push them open a crack.

Outside, Mumbattan is just as awake as you are. City lights twinkle in rows and columns, urban stars that flush out the blackness of night. When you open the window, sirens whine in the distance. There are people laughing on the street two floors below.

The sight of that world, moving, oblivious, fills you with something frantic. You close the curtains again and slip through them in a thread of sand, heading straight up to the roof.

The air is warm and thick as you fly from building to building, letting motor memory take over. It’s a poor decision to make; if you had paused for a moment to think about where it would take you, perhaps you would’ve just stayed in your room.

Because the next thing you know, Oberoi Tower is looming in front of you, tall and unobstructed by the rest of the city.

You skid to a stop. A single thought comes together as your body does, burning hot as it crawls into your throat and scorches your tongue behind your teeth. You let it out.

“I HATE YOU!” you scream at Oberoi Tower. “I HATE YOU! I HATE YOU! I HATE YOU!”

For as long as you can, you scream at Oberoi and the Doctor and the rest of Mumbattan. You scream at them for making your parents fight, for taking you away from your home, for taking away the rest of your humanity. You scream until your voice gives out and your throat feels brittle.

Then you crumple onto the filthy roof. There is no relief as you sob; you don’t have any tears to cry out.

“… Excuse me?”

On instinct, your skin hardens and your hands curl into fists. You force yourself to still, lifting your head to peer up at Spider-Man.

He glances around, then squats down to your level to return your gaze.

“Hi,” he says gently. “What’s going on? What’s wrong?”

“Nothing,” you say. You tell yourself that you’re not here to fight him. “Just had a crappy day.”

“How so?”

“Don’t you have bad guys to take care of?”

“Not at the moment.”

“Well, can you leave me alone anyway?”

“I’m afraid not.” Spider-Man reaches out to pat your shoulders. “You’re important to me. I mean, not in a personal sense! But in the sense that I protect Mumbattan’s citizens, and you are a completely random citizen of Mumbattan who I want to help.”

You hug your knees to your chest. “Whatever.”

Glaring at the ground beside you, you hope that he takes the hint that you’re not in danger and that he should leave. He doesn’t.

After a few minutes, you shoot him an irritated glance.

He raises his hands. “I was just thinking that maybe you’d want to talk about it or something. Sometimes it’s nice to vent to somebody on the outside.”

“I don’t.”

“Well, I’m also not comfortable just leaving you alone on top of a random building in the middle of the night. Some of the villains around here can fly. It’d be super easy for them to just pluck you up like some sort of giant, freaky, predatory bird, you know? I’ve seen it.”

You scoff. “Not that easy.”

“What do you mean?”

“Nothing,” you mutter, scooting back so you can stretch your legs out and put more distance between you and the masked hero. “I’ll be fine. Leave me alone.”

“I’m serious! This isn’t the safest part of the city. I can swing you back home when you’re ready – I’d feel better knowing that you got back home safe and sound.”

The thread snaps.

“Can you stop that?” you bark. “Just stop.”

Spider-Man blinks. “… Stop what?” he questions, sounding a little hurt. “I’m just –”

“Doing your duty? Whatever. It’s so annoying. You’re always acting so good, and like you actually care. I bet you’ve never done a bad thing in your entire life. Everything comes so easily to you.”

“That’s not true,” he says quietly.

“Prove it.”

“I can’t.”

“Then leave me alone,” you say. You know that you’re being mean. You can’t stop yourself, and you don’t care.

The vigilante regards you thoughtfully, big, white eyes staring into your own until you turn away with a scoff.  

“I’ll leave you alone if you answer my question,” Spider-Man finally says.

“Okay, fine.”

“My Spider-Sense –”

“Your what.”

“It’s a danger detector in my head – anyway, it’s going off right now.” He points at his head with both hands. “It’s been going off since I met you. I checked and it looks like this building is abandoned, so I can only assume that you have something to do with” – you stand up, and he sputters – “hey, where are you going? Am I correct?”

“No,” you say, walking away.

“I don’t believe you,” Spider-Man protests, even while you look for a normal way down. “You have to be honest or it doesn’t count.”

“You just don’t like my answer.”

“I don’t like your answer because it’s not the truth.”

“It is the truth.” The door leading into the building is locked. You step closer to hide the doorknob and quickly unlock it with your thumb, and once you’ve opened the door, you look over your shoulder to see Spider-Man standing in the same place where you had left him. “And even if it wasn’t, it’s none of your business. I’m not hurting anyone.”

“Not even yourself?”

Your face pinches into something sour, and he sighs, loud enough for you to hear across the distance you’ve put between the two of you.

“I’m sure you have people who care a lot about you,” Spider-Man says. “You can talk to them, you know?”

“Not really.”

“They might understand more than you think.”

“I doubt it,” you say.

With that, you start down the staircase, leaving Spider-Man behind to huff and puff.

Because you know that he’ll try to follow you home, you split yourself into tiny threads once you’re far enough into the building and escape through several different floors and windows. It’s a hassle and you’re annoyed the entire time, but it’s better than walking the streets alone, even if there’s a masked menace watching from the rooftops.

He’ll probably stress out once he realizes you’ve slipped under his radar. Good. It’s what he deserves for acting like he knows you.

—

“Alright. This is an intervention.”

“What do you mean?” you reply stiffly.

“You’re well aware of what I mean,” Hari says, sitting across from you. “You and Pav.”

At the mention of his name, you look away, crossing your arms.

“I wasn’t going to say anything, but it’s been one week, and both of you are acting weird, and I’m getting tired of it.”

“I’m not acting weird. He’s acting weird.”

Hari’s dark eyes narrow. The deep frown on his face suddenly reminds you of his father, and you squirm.

“I saw your face last Friday when Pav was talking to Gayatri,” he states. “It’s not too hard to connect the dots.”

Your jaw clenches. Hari has never bothered to mince words; this subject is no exception, it seems.

“Look.” Hari leans forward and keeps his voice down. “I’m his best friend, so I know everything about him. Pav’s had a crush on Gayatri for two years. He’s talked to her a total of three times, and the first two times, he totally botched it.”

“He didn’t botch it last Friday,” you mumble.

“Exactly!” he exclaims, then coughs and lowers his voice even further. “Exactly. Do you remember what he was like after he was done talking to her?”

This conversation is making you more miserable by the minute.

You shrug despondently. “I dunno.”

“I asked him how it went, and he said it was good.”

“Good, then.”

Hari sighs in frustration. “No, listen to me. You don’t understand how Pav functions. If he still had a crush on her, he wouldn’t have shut up about that conversation for the rest of the day. He would’ve been floating down the hallway and asking me how to ask her out. But he was almost normal about it.”

He’s trying to make a point, but it completely eludes you. “What are you saying?” you ask.

“I’m saying you have a chance,” Hari says, “because I don’t think he likes Gayatri anymore.”

Your shoulders tense.

“No.”

“Yes.”

“No,” you insist, a vague sense of panic rising up from within. “He’s always liked Gayatri.”

“Well, something’s changed since this weekend, and it’s not Gayatri. In my professional opinion, I think Pav’s starting to realize that he likes you.”

You get up from your seat.

“No, he doesn’t.”

“You two can deny it all you like, but I’m right,” Hari calls after you. You cringe and hide your face as you hurry out of the cafeteria. “I’m right!”

Chest tight, you push past the stream of students heading in the opposite direction and make a beeline to the library. It’s on the other side of the school, so walking there gives you plenty of distance from Hari and plenty of time for his words to hurtle around at light speed in your head.

You have a chance, because he doesn’t like Gayatri anymore.

Hari doesn’t know everything, you think with gritted teeth. People don’t like Gayatri Singh for two years and then suddenly move on to a nobody they’ve only known for four months. Gayatri is classy and smart and pretty, and she doesn’t have a freakish alter ego who fights Mumbattan’s beloved Spider-Man three days a week. Of course Pav still likes her. You’re not even in the equation, and you’re angry that Hari even brought it up.

Turning the corner, you smack face-first into another body.

“Sor – oh.”

Pav rubs his forehead as he stares at you, mouth forming different words that are ultimately left unsaid. You grip the straps of your backpack and look away.

“Hey!” he says after a full thirty seconds have passed, putting his hands on his hips. “I thought Hari was helping you with something.”

“He wasn’t much help,” you mumble, stepping to the side.

He seems surprised. “Really?”

You shake your head. As you try to walk past him to finally enter the library, Pav grasps your shoulder and moves to block your path.

“How are you doing?” he asks.

You swallow dryly.

This is the kind of weird you and Hari have noticed this week. In fact, Pav had texted you this exact same question last Friday night, following an unprompted conversation he’d initiated just ten minutes before you had snuck back into your bedroom. You’d waited a bit and then replied that you were fine. Just tired. The answer had appeared to satisfy him then, but when you got to school on Monday, he asked you again and it was in a way that sounded like he thought you weren’t doing fine. You had given him the same answer.

Now here he is, asking that question for the third time, and part of you is afraid that he knows.

“Fine. Just tired.”

“I see.” Pav looks slightly disappointed. “You should get more sleep.”

“I know.”

“If you ever need to talk about anything, you know you can talk to me, right?”

Weird. “… Yeah.”

He nods slowly, brow furrowed, and – oh, he’s patting your shoulders. You’re suddenly struck with a sense of déjà vu. “You’re important to me, so I just wanted you to know that I’m here to listen if anything’s bothering you.”

Even weirder, you tell yourself desperately, even as his words plunge deep into your soul and make your mind go fuzzy. “Okay,” you reply, Pav’s hands leaving spots of warmth as he draws away. “Thanks.”

He smiles, and all you see is kindness. “No problem. That’s what friends are for, right?”

You didn’t know that the word could mean so much to you and cause so much pain at the same time until now.

“You’re …” The words almost make you choke, but you take in a breath and force them out with a firm honesty. “You’re a good friend, Pav,” you say, then duck away and rush into the library.

You hate yourself.

—

Gayatri begins hanging out with the three of you. You don’t see her on a daily basis, as she has her own friend group and a busy modeling schedule, but it’s enough that you get to know her a little better. She’s mostly what you expect – very warm, very personable and quick-witted. When you follow her on social media, you learn that she’s also an avid meme enthusiast and shares at least five of them on her story every day.

You think that she and Pav have something going on. Hari disagrees.

(“They just have compatible personalities,” he says.)

(“Which makes them dating more likely,” you say.)

(“Please. As if Pav would last one day keeping that a secret from us.”)

Eventually, Gayatri invites you, Pav, and Hari to try out a new Italian restaurant after school. Pav can’t go because of … well, he doesn’t really specify and leaves in a hasty manner, and Hari has tuition classes, so it ends up being only you and Gayatri who board the bus to Lower Mumbattan.

“I want to try their pasta alla Norma,” she tells you while you’re buried in traffic on the bridge. “Here, look at the menu.”

You gingerly take her phone and scroll through the appetizers and main dishes. Over time, you’ve learned that you can hold drier foods the longest, so you point out the focaccia and Gayatri seems to approve.

“Oh, focaccia is sooo good,” she exclaims. “Good choice.”

You share a small grin with her. You do like Gayatri, even though you envy her sometimes.

Your thoughts are interrupted by a passenger’s scream.

“The building!”

A shadow falls across the bridge. When you look towards the front of the bus, the sand around your soul suddenly contracts.

It’s like something from a movie. Slow-motion. A giant building tearing away from the cliffside, blocking out the sky. A collective pause as everyone holds their breath in disbelief.

Then chunks of stone and metal begin to rain down, and the dead silence erupts into chaos.

Gayatri’s phone flies out of your hands as the bus lurches forward, a monstrous tremor shooting up from the ground and through your body. You catch yourself on the back of the seat in front of you and push yourself into a standing position. Around you, people are crying and screaming and praying and banging against the windows and throwing themselves against the doors.

Someone shakes your shoulders.

“The emergency exit,” Gayatri yells, pointing at the rear window.

Her eyes are wide, panicked, but determined. Trembling, you follow her to the back of the bus.

The handle for the emergency exit is jammed. Both of you jostle it, pull at it, push the window, but it doesn’t budge.

“We need to break the window,” you mutter. “We need to –”

There’s a devastating crunch behind you.

You and Gayatri whip your heads around, and the mayhem around you increases tenfold as the bus tilts forward and you stare down into the void below.

Gayatri lets out a choked gasp. “Break the window,” she tells you, banging her fist against the glass with a renewed vigor. “We can’t die. I don’t want to die!”

Your gaze shoots upward towards the roof vent. Clarity hits you like a punch to the gut.

The bus has a ventilation system. You could escape right now – duck under the seats and turn into a cloud of sand while everyone’s distracted, squeeze through the vent and leave. And even if you didn’t, you’d more than likely survive anyway. When the dust settles at the bottom of Mumbattan, you could gather yourself up from in between the twisted metal and debris, from in between the mangled bodies.

You’re not trapped here. You’re not going to die.

The bus tilts further, and you glance over at Gayatri. She’s not crying, but her eyebrows are pinched together, and her breaths are heavy as she continues to hit the window.

You grit your teeth. What are you even thinking?

“[Y/n], I think –”

“Move,” you order. Then you shove her and the nearby passengers down, form your arm into a pickaxe, and swing it at the window.

The window shatters just as the bus tips over the edge.

With a gasp, you stretch out to grab the bridge. Your sand finds purchase on a piece of road that juts out, but the weight is too much, and the asphalt crumbles with your arm as the bus begins to plummet down towards the earth.

There’s a moment when you simply float.

You’ve dived off buildings in Mumbattan many times, and the act of falling, you find, is always the same. There is, first, the decision to jump. After that is the actual jump. But right before you begin to fall, there’s an instant in which gravity forgets your existence. The air wraps around you, and you simply float.

In that very moment, you close your eyes.

Gravity remembers you soon after. When you open your eyes again, the wind rushing past you, you register a small, bright spot of red in the distance.

A web shoots past you and grabs the bus. It jerks to a stop in mid-air. You don’t, so you tumble back into it through the broken window. Grabbing the edge, you stare up at Spider-Man as he dangles from the bridge.

Gayatri shouts your name. You bite your lip and tear your eyes away to meet hers.

“Gayatri,” you manage, afraid of what she’ll say, “I … I –”

“Are you okay?” she asks you.

You gawk at her. The bus drops another foot, preventing you from answering right away as you hang on for dear life.

“I’m all right,” you tell her once the bus is still again. “Are you okay?”

“I’m not hurt.”

Good. That’s good. “I’m going to go up,” you say, “to help Spider-Man. It’s going to be okay.”

Gayatri frowns and nods.

You disperse into a haze of sand, climbing up the web towards the bridge. Once you reach Spider-Man’s hand, you jump to the edge of the hole and reform.

Now it’s your turn to be gawked at. “[Y/n]?” Spider-Man wheezes, even as he strains to lift the bus up.

“Let me help,” you demand.

He gestures over his shoulder. “I’m fine – Inspector Singh – he’s down there with a kid –”

Turning your head, you spot Gayatri’s father in the middle of the road, a child in his arms while debris slams into the ground around them. Without wasting another second, you fly towards them.

Right as you reach the two, a black and red blur scoops them up and dashes through you. You immediately match their pace and form a veil over them. Pieces of concrete and glass dig into your sand as buildings collapse, but you focus on the bodies beneath you, breathing and alive.

You can see Spider-Man just up ahead. He’s managed to pull himself up onto the bridge.

Before you can call out to him, something smashes onto you from above.

When you break out of your daze, you realize that you’ve been buried underneath a chunk of building.

“Is everyone okay?” you hear someone say in English. You put yourself together as the kid and Inspector Singh answer an affirmative. “Hey, are you okay?”

You realize that the suited guy is talking to you. Vision adjusting to the darkness, you notice that he looks, strangely, like a different version of Spider-Man. “Oh,” you croak, picking out a shard of glass from your back. “Yes, I’m okay.”

“Can you help me lift this, then?”

“Yeah.”

The two of you work on pushing the rubble out of the way. “If you weren’t covering us, I dunno if we would’ve made it,” Spider-Man Two says. “Thanks.”

You shrug, flustered.

“Miles!”

Light floods your senses as someone helps push the piece of building up and away from you. You’re met with a third Spider-Man variant. The eyes are all the same, you realize.

Nearby, Inspector Singh gets up with a grunt. He adjusts his glasses, then smiles slightly in response to all of your questioning glances.

“Sir,” Spider-Man Two says, lifting the child into his arms.

Inspector Singh merely nods. He looks past the four of you, and he quickly stands up. “Gayatri,” he murmurs.

You watch as Gayatri runs into her father’s arms.

As they talk, the original Spider-Man comes up to stand beside you.

“So,” he says, and you flinch even though he makes no move to hurt you. “You’re the Sand.”

You shift your feet. “Yes.”

“I had a feeling.”

“How?”

“We’ll need to talk about it later,” he says, perking up as Gayatri waves the two of you over. “In any case, I’m glad you’re unhurt after all this. You realize you’re a hero now, right?”

“I’m not a hero,” you say.

Spider-Man just laughs. He claps a hand on your back as the two of you walk towards Gayatri and Inspector Singh.

“I’ve heard that before.”

—

Mumbattan is in a state of chaos for the next few hours, as a black hole forms underneath the bridge and a bunch of other Spider-People appear out of nowhere to contain it. Spider-Man’s friends go off somewhere, leaving him to help out with damage control and finding survivors. You join him after calling your parents (who are perfectly fine if not slightly hysterical), and it isn’t until after dark that the two of you are able to talk in private.

“What did you want to talk about?” you ask Spider-Man, legs dangling from the roof of a building. You can see the collapsed bridge from here, illuminated by lights as the city continues to work.

Spider-Man jumps onto the parapet and sits down next to you, crisscross style. “Several different things,” he replies. “It all points back to you, though.”

Understandable. Well, your connection to Oberoi Industries is severed for sure once your face shows up in the news, so you might as well tell him everything.

So you do. You tell him that you’re a mutant, that your X-gene was only partially activated almost a year ago in a factory explosion. You tell him that Nalin Oberoi sponsored your family to move to Mumbattan so he and his doctor could trigger your mutation fully and use it to record business partners and your fights with Spider-Man. You tell him about the broken contract because you revealed your identity, about the jobs and money that your family will not have anymore, and that you have absolutely no clue what will happen now.

And his reaction is … stunned. Indignant. He asks about Nalin Oberoi several times, but he also asks if you have a safe place to stay. He presses a fist to his mouth in thought, then exhales. You almost worry, having never seen him so still, but when he speaks again, his voice is calm.  

“All right. Well, that explains a lot, at least.”

“What do you mean?”

“You didn’t seem comfortable in your own body when we first met,” he says. He leans back on his hands, hair ruffled by the warm breeze passing through. “Like it wasn’t yours.”

The fact that he had sensed that so early on doesn’t surprise you anymore. You’re still not comfortable in this body, not yet. You wonder if you ever will be.

“I don’t know if it’s mine anymore.”

Spider-Man shakes his head harshly. “It is yours,” he replies firmly, and you stiffen with surprise when he grabs your hand, the rough fabric warm on your skin. “I got my powers by accident, too, but I’m still me.”

Your eyes widen. “You were in an accident too?”

“Yeah – er, sort of? I got bit by a radioactive spider …” he slumps forward a bit, “which sounds super lame compared to surviving a factory explosion – not that you getting exploded was cool or anything, because that was extremely not cool!”

“It wasn’t. But I guess it’s a cooler origin story than a bug bite.”

You smile. Spider-Man chuckles sheepishly.

The two of you sit quietly, looking out at the night-washed cityscape of Mumbattan. The familiarity of this situation does not escape you; neither does the fact that despite everything, you feel much, much better now than you did then, like a wound that’s finally been cleaned out. A second chance. Maybe you and Mumbattan will be okay.

After a long while, you hear Spider-Man take in a deep breath like he’s about to say something.

You wait.

And wait.

Eventually, he hangs his head. “Sorry,” he says. “This is harder than I thought it would be.”

“What is?”

“Well, I know your secret identity now.” He rubs the back of his neck. “I … am considering telling you mine.”

You blink rapidly, baffled.

“What?” you reply. “You don’t have to do that.”

“Given what I now know about you, and about myself … it might actually be for the best.” Observing you, he seems almost shy, and his fingers squeeze around your hand just the slightest. (Oh, he’s still holding your hand.) “That is, if you’re okay with me telling you.”

“You trust me?”

“You’re my friend,” he says. “Of course I trust you.”

That’s a weird thing to say, you think, to someone who’s tried to throw you off a building several times. But logic says nothing of whatever fluffs up in your chest at his words. You don’t have many friends, and trust is hard to come by when you’re a mutant.

“Okay,” you say.

His eyes crescent as he lets go of you. “Great,” he chirps, though he’s betrayed by the slightly higher pitch of his voice. He reaches up to hook his thumbs underneath the edge of his mask before pausing. “Er … please don’t freak out, okay?”

You nod and hold your breath.

—

“Just for the record,” Hari announces seriously, his head popping out from behind the giant paper bag of snacks as he catches up to the rest of you, “I don’t care what our school said about you. You’re totally badass.”

You can’t help the smile that tugs at your cheeks. “Thanks, Hari.”

“Don’t mention it.”

“He’s just excited to see the X-Mansion,” Pav jibes, elbowing Hari with a grin. “Suck-up.”

“Who wouldn’t be?” Gayatri says. “They’re heroes. And so is [Y/n].”

“I’m not –” You meet Pav’s narrowed eyes and correct yourself, straightening your posture as you fix your gaze upon the enormous building just a few meters away. “Not a real hero … yet. But I’ll try.”

Your parents join the four of you inside the X-Mansion, hauling one too many bags for your dorm room. For a moment, all of you look in awe at the interior, the marble floors, the furniture; you watch mutants your age milling about without cowering or hiding, and you feel … safe.

Hari lets out a gasp and clutches his hair. “No way. Is that an original photo of the X-Men with the Fantastic Four?!”

As Gayatri and your parents follow him to the wall where the photo is, you take the chance to turn to Pav. He is already looking at you, a smile lifting the corners of his mouth, and your cheeks warm at the sight.

Without a tip from Spider-Man, you and your parents wouldn’t have known to contact the Institute so early on. A little encouragement from Maya aunty and Gayatri’s father went a long way as well.

Of course, you will miss your friends. But maybe that is a blessing in itself, that you have friends to miss, and that they are good ones.

“Pav?”

“Yes?”

The words lie heavy on your tongue. You let them loose with less fear than you would have before. “Thank you.”

“No need to thank me,” he replies. His hand brushes yours, and then he gently takes your hand. His eyes skate across your face, and he must find something good, because his shoulders relax and his smile widens. “Just meet me on the right side, okay?”

“Okay.”

“And – and remember to call!”

You laugh. Pav only looks a little bashful before it’s overtaken by his usual sunniness.

“Yeah, okay.”

The two of you join everybody else in front of the photo. You look up at the group of heroes on the wall, larger than life within the wooden frame, staring into the camera and at you. Your fingers interlace with Pavitr’s and he squeezes in return.

Okay. There’s some good left in this life for you, after all.

[starkenobi]

Friday Night | Natasha Romanoff x reader

masterlist — read on ao3

Summary: On a terrible friday night, reader meets her hero Natasha Romanoff, the Avenger Black Widow.

Warnings: mutant!reader; harassment; strangers to possibly lovers; fluff; drabble.

Being a woman was hard. Being a mutant woman was even harder. That’s it. She woke up every day with that thought and went to bed feeling the weight on her shoulders. You see, society has never been fair to the female sex. Born of man’s rib? A value less than a cow? Born to just serve and give everything the man wants? Slaves even before being conceived in the womb of some other poor woman. Serving only to be wives and to procreate the children. 

If you dare do anything out of line? Burn the witch. Taboos and all the negativity of the world being forced into anything related to women and the feminine. It is ironic to think that there is a country where a cow has more security and rights than a woman. And in the end, it’s always the woman’s fault. Anything. From ancient times to the present. They just found different ways to burn witches. But when it came to mutant women… Things could be even worse if that were possible. 

Humans could be a complete piece of shit in their ignorance, but men were able to overcome all the bad expectations. Her brother once told that when she was born, their mother cried when the doctor said the baby was a girl. “My poor baby”, it was the phrase most used by her mother. And she couldn’t blame her mother for feeling that way. At least she was lucky to have an older brother to protect her when her parents couldn’t. 

However, she was an adult now, and she needed to protect herself on her own. Living in a big and different city resulted in long self-defense training and sometimes hiding that she was mutant with hybrid feline characteristics by wearing hats and loose clothing. Was she completely happy? Hell no. 

At least she was working in one of the best-mixed companies, having friends and acquaintances who liked her for who she was. No taboos. No weird moments. No embarrassing questions. Perhaps because she worked in the advertising and marketing field, but deep inside she knew that it was something beyond the item of being open-minded to work. They were good people, indeed.

That's why she felt safe enough to go out with them without fear, she didn’t hide with hats or loose clothes. Even though having two more mutants in the group, she was the only female one, still, she could feel completely comfortable amid the smiles and laughter of the other 8 humans. It was the closest she had to the sense of belonging, almost home.

“Daydreaming again as I notice,” a sweet singsong voice sounded behind her shoulder, pulling her out of her little monologue and making her turn to face Sunmi - the art director and her best friend there.“but it’s time to go!”

“Already?” frowning, she glanced at her wristwatch and sighed in dismay as she realized that it was past 7 pm.

Sunmi quipped a brief ‘yep’ at the same time that was hurrying her to put things in the bag. “I was finishing my part of that project, and I knew you’d be here too.” The two of them walked to the elevator, sighing in relief as they rushed into it. “Besides, the guys are already there waiting for us."

Using the reflection of the mirror covering one of the elevator’s walls, Y/N ran her fingers through her hair strands to leave them for a more casual look. The strands contrasting with the pair of white, furry feline ears on top of her head. It was no sin to consider herself beautiful, and she was proud to be who she was. And giving a small smile towards Sunmi through the mirror, Y/N spun on her heels to go out in the night in search of some fun.

Maybe, just maybe, things could be a little nicer. A great friday night with her friends, a time to relax and have fun. But of course not, not when she was in the equation. And that’s why, after two hours at the bar for humans and mutants, she was in an unbearable situation. Her enthusiasm had evaporated, she felt completely trapped. 

For a moment, she thought of asking for help from her two friends who were also mutant, but they had both said goodbye and gone home early. To make matters worse, she left her bag with her phone and the pepper spray on the table where the rest of the group were still having fun. 

She just went to the bathroom, didn’t realize that something so extreme could happen, but now she cursed under her breath for being so naive. With each new punch at the door of the ladies’ bathroom, she trembled even more into the last cabin, squeezing herself against the wall. Her fluffy white ears clung to the top of her head, practically hiding through her now messy hair. She could barely breathe, her chest heavy as her heart was pounding.

She was scared.

The door then opened in a heavy thud, the music of the bar that before was muffled now took care of the environment and incapacitating her of being able to hear the footsteps of the two men in the midst of fear. Hot tears streamed down her cold cheeks, her tail wrapped around her waist in an attempt to try to control her body shaking. 

If they were so persistent in getting her, it would be a fact that everything would fall apart in her life that night. At that moment, she wished she had not been born a mutant. Or rather, not being born a woman. When the cabin door before hers opened with force, she let out a faint cry of horror. 

And then everything seemed to go faster, the cabin door breaking as a pair of hands came toward her. She screamed with all the air she had, feeling her throat ache from the force she was using. Unable to distinguish what the two men were saying, she felt herself being pulled and then thrown against the bathroom floor, a whimper of pain escaped her trembling lips as she shrunk even further down the floor and closed her eyes tightly.

“What the hell is going on here?“

A booming voice exclaimed, making her open her eyes again just in time to see an angry redhead woman staring at the two men who were attacking her. Once again, everything happened too fast for her frightened eyes. In a moment, the two men decided to attack the lady, but then they both fell unconscious on the ground. The redhead woman stepped over the other two to go where she still was on the floor.

“Are you okay?” she murmured worriedly, crouching down beside her and searching her eyes, not sure she could speak, she just nodded and the other woman sighed in relief. “Great, good thing I decided it was toilet time and I heard you scream.“ Slowly, she grabbed her by the elbows and helped her to rise from the floor, “My name’s Natasha, by the way.”

“Y/N.'' After clearing her throat, she whispered, her eyes focused on her feet.

Natasha smiled as she let go of one of her elbows so she could help her out of the bathroom, “I know now is the last moment you want to hear this but,” walking down the hall of the restrooms and finally arriving at the bar, Natasha helped Y/N to sit down and with a quick hand motion asked for a water - which Y/N didn’t think twice to accept. “You are a very beautiful person.”

Beautiful person. She stopped drinking the water and looked up to meet Natasha’s green eyes. She called her a person, not a mutant or a feline hybrid. A simple word but that made her heart flip.

“Thank you,” she murmured, closing her eyes briefly so she could take a deep breath and try to control both the breathing and the rest of her body.

“Whenever you need it,” Natasha quickly responded, but then cringed as she processed her own words, “this wasn’t exactly a flirt unless you accepted it as one, but it was just a way of-,”

She giggled, finishing the water and finally relaxing to the point where her white ears re-emerged quietly through her messy hair. “It’s alright.”

With the positive response, Natasha grabbed one of the napkins on the bar counter and quickly picked up the bartender’s pen, writing roughly before holding out the paper in Y/N's direction. “This is my number. Call me if you need a hero, eat pizza or grab a beer.”

“Oh, you have three part-time jobs, miss Black Widow?“ Arching an eyebrow, Y/N chuckled at the sight of Natasha's smile turning into a confused expression.

“You got me here,“ She laughed, pointing her forefinger toward Y/N and then retorting “bad kitten.”

Ok, maybe things could really be a little nicer after all.

comments, likes and reblogs are welcome and appreciated! thank you for reading and supporting my writing 💜

[flowersforbucky]

worst!logan x mutant!reader with emotional regulation and healing abilities coming this friday 💕 as long as i can get it finished up before i leave for a 5 day trip to new orleans on thursday morning

it's currently about 4.2k words and i think i'm over halfway at this point so hopefully i'll have it finished by the middle of the week

[inkblot-inc]

Cruisin' For A Bruisin'

Summary: The crew is on a much needed (and definitely deserved) vacation from hero-ing about. It's important to remember that you can plan out a trip, but you can't anticipate everything that happens on said trip.

Pairing: Natasha Romanoff x Mutant!TigerShark!Reader

[AU Masterlist] Arc 2: This is Part 1

Warning(s): This one's pretty wholesome for the most part, but I will say there are some descriptions of violence. Also strong language, but if you've been here long enough you know that-

Note(s): WELCOME TO ARC 2 BAYBEE! Jaws is back and I could not be any more excited to get back into this shit! As far as I can tell arc 2 is definitely gonna be longer than arc 1, but I hope y'all enjoy :3

Word Count: Skidding pass 2.9k

*squints* I give NO ONE permission to repost or translate my work. Make your own shit!

It'd been a little over a year since you'd joined the Avengers. There were certainly a few incidents here and there, the biggest being the dismantling of the Red Room which, incidentally, led to Natasha reuniting with her folks.

It was certainly one way to meet your girlfriend's family, that's for sure...

Things seemed to finally take time to settle, at least for a little while.

It was newly June and you along with Natasha, Wanda, and Vision were set to go on the cruise trip you'd booked around Christmas time last year.

---

"How were you able to swing two months off mission calls, babe?" You looked up from packing your suitcase at Natasha's voice, a small smirk growing on your face.

You made your way over to Natasha before wrapping your arms around her waist. "Well, I'm still not greenlit to go out in the field for a slew of reasons, Wanda's only put on for specific assignments, Vision's her plus one, and you have, what? Three years' worth of PTO? We're in the clear, Natty. The team will be fine for a month or two."

Natasha let out a hum of agreement before she brought you closer for a kiss. "That- and you harassed Tony to figure it out."

You raised a brow in mock confusion, "I thought that part was obvious." Your mouth pulled into a genuine gleaming smile as you got a laugh out of Natasha as she wrapped her own arms around your neck. "You're a menace."

"Is that meant to be a bad thing?" Your lips met in another kiss.

"Never a bad thing."

As the two of you finished packing, you met up with Wanda in the Common Room of the compound, where she was talking with Vision. The atmosphere was sullen with only one set of bags on the couch.

"What's goin' on? Did they not have SPF50 at the Walgreens?" You set yours and Natasha's bags down before going to get the keys to the Quinjet. "I'm sure we could find robo-sunscreen on the way, man."

Vision looked at the back of his hand for a good second. "I don't think I would need protection from the sun, seeing as my skin is-"

You came and wrapped your arm around the synthezoid's neck, jangling the jet keys by his ear. "Joking! Again. If anything, we'll just cook eggs on you when you overheat like a copper pan. We aren't gonna be on an air-conditioned boat the whole time you know." And just like that, the light atmosphere you'd created sunk back down as Wanda and Vision looked at each other. You looked between the two in clear confusion, "Alright, what's the deal?"

Vision eyed Wanda for a bit longer before turning to look at you and Natasha, who just came into the room. "I'm afraid I won't be able to accompany the three of you on this vacation. I will be remaining on call."

You tossed the Quinjet keys to Natasha as she came further into the room. "That's ridiculous, we all sent in time off notices weeks before now. How'd this even come about?"

Vision let out a sigh, "Captain Rogers came to me with concerns of being understaffed during the next few months with the search for HYDRA operatives still ongoing; With Dr. Banner still off-world, Mr. Barton indisposed with his with his family, and Mr. Stark only expected half of the time, it is rather easy for me to see Captain Rogers' point. Out of the four of us approved for time off, it was determined that I would be the one to stay behind in case of emergency."

---

You'd spent the cruise enjoying each stop between Hawaii and French Polynesia, and it's been anything but a normal experience with you around as the agent of chaos.

Wanda made sure to get plenty of pictures to cement the new memories. There's photos of you "hugging" a manta ray, Wanda and Natasha relaxing on the beach in Bora Bora, several pictures at dinner, and even one of all three of you having an absolute ball watching one of the night shows in Samoa.

Your most recent picture was a group one after you laid on a blowhole in Savai'i. You almost gave the nearby family of five a heart attack, but it was still fun to do.

The last two weeks have been a welcome break for the three of you. Despite some of your more "peculiar" ways of having fun, this has been a freeing and relaxing time. No missions, no threats; a true vacation.

Wanda was currently in her cabin across the hall from yours and Natasha's on her nightly call with Vision. Next time he had to come, Steve be damned. Wanda was a good sport about it when Vision was called in at the last minute, but you all wished he was here as well.

Natasha had taken to video calling with Yelena as well, though they weren't as frequent with her being on her own mission.

You had your own time to talk with Yelena that mainly consisted of her cosigning whatever fuckery you were up to on your vacation.

Part of it might be just to get a reaction out of Natasha.....Which she always did-

It was wonderful to see Natasha just unwound and be less serious, Yelena is one of those people that just pulls it out of her.

Their Relationship had noticeably improved since they were brought back together last year, after learning more about each other that they hadn't had the privilege to learn before, having been separated for their most formative years.

-----

You and Natasha sat on the secluded deck connected to your cabin. The open air was refreshing as you let Natasha lean back into your arms, watching the sunset on the water.

"I'll be honest and say that I can't choose between Tahiti or Savai'i,"

You placed your head on top of Natasha's. "It's always going to be Enoka for me. It was so long ago, but can remember the views on the island as clear as day." Your words were less clear, almost like you were talking through your teeth. "The white sand beaches occupied by damn near everyone in the mornings, green peaks covered in flowers, the quiet that surrounded the deep waters at night... Seeing the sun make everything above me glimmer while it was up high in the sky. Those small "nothing" memories are one of the few things I haven't lost to time... I just wish I had pictures to show it to you."

Natasha slowly rubbed your forearm that was across her stomach as she encouraged your rare moment of open vulnerability. "Well that's why we're doing this. Making new memories closer to home..."

You focused on the soothing gesture as you thought of those same flickering pictures taken through a toddling interpretation.

In the morning you, Natasha, and Wanda were going to part from the cruise ship and make your way to where Enoka would be via a smaller, personal yacht (paid for by you, modified by Tony, who was convinced to do so by Pepper).

There's nothing that could ruin this moment for you. With two of your favorite people by your side, you were going to visit what's no more than a watery lump of land that once was your home and put it to rest for good.

-----

After leaving the cruise ship, Wanda focused on directing the three of you through the smaller crowds of people walking in the opposite direction away from the docks. "What's this boat called again? Delilah?"

Natasha unfolded the small piece of paper in her hand to reread the messy script, "The Blue Delilah. It should be near the end of the pier."

You grasped one of their wrists in each hand, "It's just up ahead!" Both Wanda and Natasha cringed slightly as you just barely missed bulldozing a group of people on your way to the boat that turned out to be a custom Sunseeker 76 yacht.

before the three of you boarded the yacht, a brown-haired man wearing thin rectangular glasses came up to the three of you with a gleam in his eyes. Your eyes narrowed at the camera in his hand before he even started speaking. "I'm really sorry to bother the three of you, but you're Avengers, right?"

You just blankly stared at the man while Natasha, while also on guard, she was more cordial when she addressed the man. "We're not exactly on duty right now, but did you want something?"

Wanda noticed that there was a dark haired woman not too far behind him simply staring at the yacht before looking toward the three of you. The bespectacled man, who began perspiring the longer you stared him down, jumped to answer. "I just wanted to get a picture with you guys, my wife and I are really grateful that you all are around to protect us."

The three of you looked at each other. While all of you weren't keen on taking pictures, the couple seemed harmless enough, Wanda read as much from both of their thoughts. The man, Graydon, was both nervous and excited; worried that he'd come off as a creep that was bothering them. His wife, Tara, had a similar train of thought in not wanting to bother the three public. Tara's mind was notably much quieter than her husband's; presumably the result of a calming tactic.

Wanda mentally relayed this to both you and Natasha before the three of you finished wordlessly discussing the matter. With Natasha nodding, Wanda spoke to the couple. "One picture wouldn't hurt."

Graydon's face lit up as he gestured for his wife to come closer, essentially saying they were in the clear. Tara came to stand on the other side of Wanda while Graydon went to find a passerby to take the picture on his camera. After he showed a willing older man how to snap the photo, he stood on the right of Natasha with a rather dorky thumbs up.

You left your mask on, put you arms over Natasha's and Wanda's shoulders and squinted your eyes a bit to give the illusion of a more positive emotion on your face as the brief flash irritated your eyes.

After the picture was taken, Graydon rushed over to the volunteer cameraman to see how it came out. Tara turned to Wanda with a small smile as she exited her personal space after a small shaking of hands. " Thank you for indulging us, and it really is a pleasure to meet you, Misty Red."

Wanda watched the dark-haired woman walk away in confusion. "Misty Red? Who's that?" Natasha raised a single brow while all you did was laugh at Wanda's expense.

Natasha's confusion didn't last long with her own deduction skills. "Apparently that's what the people are calling you," a slow smirk made it's way to Natasha's lips as you were still laughing, "I mean, it does makes sense." The redhead was the first to turn and make her way toward the ramp of the yacht.

"I can't decide if they made you sound like a wrestler or a porn star! I just-" You broke another bout of laughter.

Wanda's eyes narrowed at your juvenile line of thought as she crossed her arms. "It isn't even that funny, Jaws. You're just milking it at this point,"

You took a second to recover from your laughter, "It's funny to me. You don't gotta get it cuz I think it's funny. There's no shame in what you do, Wandy."

Natasha rose her shoulders as she continued to make her way onto the boat. "That's just what happens when you let the public name you."

Wanda almost felt the need to defend her lack of an alias, "I didn't think it had to be very high on my list of priorities!"

You lightly pushed the brunette forward and up the ramp to The Blue Delilah. "Uh huh, get on the boat, Misty Red."

---

When You, Natasha, and Wanda all made it onto The Blue Delilah, a smaller inconspicuous boat pulled off behind it at the same time, noticing that the yacht had a discreet Stark Industries logo. Their plan isn't clear at the moment, but it is clear that they're tailing The Blue Delilah. They follow a long way behind, but have their own tracker placed on the ship so they don't lose the yacht.

The three of you were on the private yacht for about four days so far travelling to Enoka.

Note: All citizens of Enoka have the location of Enoka ingrained in their brains, so Jaws always knows where it is. This is a similar practice for the inhabitants of a certain other living island...

As you got closer to the island, it was clear that it's not completely submerged, but it definitely looks different to how you remember.

The goal now was to see if there were any inhabitants on the island that were still alive and who survived the flood over a decade ago.

You didn't voice it, but there was a new sense of anxiousness and hope that started brewing in you at the prospect of going home.

Maybe there actually was a "home" there left...

-----

About a day out from the Island, the engine to The Blue Delilah seemed to stutter, so you went to check it out and before you reach the engine room on the back pad, you noticed large ripples from something that dove back into the water.

Soon after you heard sounds of a struggle on the yacht and booked it back to where Wanda and Natasha were.

There were two attackers engaged in fighting with the two women, four were on the floor unconscious already. It's rather bold for a group of six, well seven.

Jaws grabbed the arm of the seventh attacker that tried to sneak up on them and threw them over their shoulder.

The attacker you were dealing with was a woman and she had armor that stood out a bit more than the others; she had less of it, toned brown skin shown through the large gaps between the armor pieces, and the shoulders were a bit more prickly and menacing in comparison.

'Definitely their leader.'

You raised an eyebrow at the sort of reptilian bone mask obscuring most of the woman's face. "What, were you too good for Bleach?"

You can see the woman visibly squint behind her mask before she grabs two daggers from their place on her hips, "I know fuckin' Kisame isn't talkin' about me, "

Your own eyes narrowed at her retort. 'Well fuck you, too.'

With both of you having been insulted by the other, the two of you rushed each other. The two of you were essentially going blow for blow for a while before you knocked the bone mask off of your attacker's face.

It revealed more dusky brown skin, a few scars on her face and a tattoo of some kind under her right eye. The woman turned to face you fully, wiping blood off the corner of her lip. "You might be one of the more skilled pirates I've come across. It's a shame I consider your life past tense already."

Suddenly, the woman then tackled you off the yacht, knocking your breathing apparatus off in the process, hoping to hold you down and drown you herself. Her daggers reaching to slice at your now exposed neck.

Putting her knife up to your neck, she then notices the gills on each side of it, which throws her off.

It's then, underwater, that she gets a good look at you before her eyes widen considerably, confusing you.

"Y/n, is that really you?"

There's that name, your name. Hardly anyone called you by your given name when you were little, and you hardly cared, but...

"Ys tath uyo, Y/n?"

Your own eyes widen at the familiar language coming from this woman's mouth. Only one person would really insist on using it back then...

"Sienna?"

And with that one word, the woman threw her daggers to the side leaving them to float in the water away from the two of you before tightly wrapping her arms around your neck. You hug her back just so.

After the two of you pulled away, she almost immediately slapped you with a new fire in her molten brown eyes.

"Agh shit! Did you grow talons?!" It wasn't hard enough to actually hurt, but you definitely felt the woman's nails drag across your face.

"Ehrwe ni eth FUCK veah uyo eneb?! Y thugoth uy' DDEA lla heste rayse!"

Sienna went to smack you again before you held both of her wrists in your hands to keep her at bay, your eyebrows furrowed. "Y itd'dn eyrall cieded ot velae, ni cesa uy' omowesh trogof!"

Sienna shook her head as she struggled to get free of your grip, her dark locs waving wildly in under the water. "Elt og of 'em! Y vat'ehn retnotfog shit!" Sienna then began to try and kick at you to let her go, so you brought her into another hug as she resisted.

Her attempts grew more and more feeble as the power behind her punches to your chest fizzled out. It was only then that you realized she was crying.

Sienna's voice was raw and heavy with emotion, "Ehrwe ddi uyo og?! Y odloke nad Y odloke nad Y odloke lla rove rof uyo..."

You let her sob into your chest as you held her, floating in the underwater quiet.

"Y'm ghrit ehre, sersit."

** footnote: I wanted to use a completely different script for the Enokan language being spoken, but I couldn't find a way to import it so that it was shown, so instead I made a simple code using typoglycemia (aka just unscramble the letters of each word). To make it so that it didn't look as clunky, I sometimes replaced (i) with (y). Some words that end with vowels may have an apostrophe that takes the place of the vowel. Apostrophes can also be found at the beginning of words with vowels for fluidity's sake. I didn't think swears should be scrambled cuz that just *looks* off to me. The point of these changes is to have this resemble a spoken language more than it is a blatant tactic to confuse you.

Here's a word unscrambler in case you need it