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cosmicspacewidow · 9 months

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Finding a Home

AN: This is the first story I've written in years but a friend of mine convinced me to come back to Tumblr so I thought I could share it here. I've spent years reading fic wonderful fic but most never had a character I could identify with in the fandoms I enjoyed so I made this. This is a made-up story with real-life events weaved in.

Pairing: Scarlett Johannason/ Elizabeth Olsen

Word Count: 5,105

Chapter: 1/?? (32 chapters posted on AO3)

Chapter Trigger/Content Warnings: Mention of Abuse, Violence, Non-Sexual Age Regression, and Bullying.

Summary: After landing the role of a lifetime In the film Black Widow 2, Cade Jones goes to LA where he meets Scarlett Johansson and Elizabeth Olsen. During the summer they film the movie and Cade plays Scarlett's son but over time it's not acting anymore and Scarlett and Lizzie find the missing piece of their family, but not without a lot of bumps along the road. This story is set in a real world with real people mixed in with the MCU movies alternate universe that is also set in an omegaverse, so Alpha Beta and Omega dynamic as well as non-sexual age regression, abuse, and violence. This is a bad summery just give it a read if you want.

ENJOY!

Chapter 1: A New World Beckons

In the ancient times of our ancestral wolf packs were the dominant species. Packs, Everton, Sereno, Trevino, Whitlock, and Villarreal were the five foundational packs from which all wolves trace their lineage. These packs were considered as the true Adam and Eves of the world.

Within the wolf , there existed a select group known as the Prime Wolves. The original Primes being half breds of a wolf and human, these individuals were the largest, strongest, and most highly regarded members of the wolf society. When in their wolf form, Prime Wolves experienced heightened senses, granting them acute perception, heightened awareness, and incredible speed. They were the epitome of physical strength and agility, surpassing even the capabilities of regular wolves and their fellow Primes.

The Primes possessed the remarkable ability to shift freely between their wolf and the other dominant race the human form, exhibiting complete control over their shifting abilities. They were revered as the highest echelon of wolf society.

Among the Prime Wolves, one individual stood out with great renown: Gabriela Villarreal. As a true Prime, akin to the original five, Gabriela possessed even more extraordinary abilities. In addition to the heightened senses of a wolf and the enhanced physical prowess of a Prime Wolf, Gabriela possessed a unique healing ability. With her saliva, she had the power to mend any wound, making her an invaluable healer within her pack and the wider wolf society.

However, as time passed and evolution took its course, the ability to shift and control one's wolf form gradually became dormant in the human form of most wolves. Though the primal connection remains, the majority of wolves nowadays are unable to access their shifting abilities, resembling a mere fraction of the once-powerful Primes.

In this wolf society, a social hierarchy is structured based on status. At the age of 16, individuals undergo testing to determine their place within the hierarchy. The three main statuses are Alpha, Beta, and Omega, which define an individual's rank and role within the pack. Additionally, there are umbrella categories that specify an individual's personality traits and inclinations, such as Dominants, Submissive's, Neutrals, Switches, Caregivers, and Littles.

The lore of the ancestral wolf packs and the legendary Primes adds depth to the understanding of the wolf world. It reveals the extraordinary origins of the wolves and their connection to the primal energy that still resides within them. While the ability to shift and control the wolf form has diminished over time, the legacy of the wolf culture lives on, inspiring curiosity and controversy among those who still have the ability to shift.

Sunday MAY 28th Cade’s POV

I was completely filled to the brim with stress and anxiety today and that was to say a lot since the last month of my life had been so crazy anxiety should be my middle name. In fact, I didn't even know if I had a middle name. The only name I knew was Cadence Jones. I preferred Cade though, no one ever mentioned if I had a middle name. When I was old enough to realize that I was different from other kids I was probably 4. That's when I was first told my parents left me at a random fire station not too long after I was born, just a small pup left on my own, not that I really understood what that really meant at a young age.

I was 5 when my first foster parents took me back to the group home saying something was wrong with me. I was too shy, scared, and stupid to learn anything or even talk. I had said my first word yet and I spent more time crying than anything else. They were looking for a kid that would fit into their alpha pack dynamic better than me. However, that wasn’t the case, at the time I was already reading and writing at an advanced grade level and probably one of the brightest kids in my class. I just couldn’t seem to vocalize anything yet and I was a bit more timid than the other kids my age.

When I was 6 I was adopted by a family that surrendered me back to the care of the state after only a year. That was around the time I really started to express myself and start speaking but barely and instead of wanting to be dressed in dresses and skirts I wanted to wear what my adopted brother was wearing at the time. Shorts, t-shirts, and comfortable clothes so I could go out and play like him. It got to the point I would scream, fight, and cry for hours on end if I put in something I didn't like.

So in turn I was labeled as a temperamental child, crazy even having meltdowns constantly. I typically scared off anyone who showed interest in fostering or adopting me while I was still young. Most couples didn't want to deal with all my issues and were looking for an easy kid to start out with.

I was later diagnosed with a speech impediment, autism, a sensory disorder, anxiety, and selective mutism, as a child and you can’t process these things very well. It becomes hard to function without specialized care and being raised in foster homes as a kid you never really got that.

After about two years living in a group home, I was staying with a nice family in Reno. They openly accepted me and all my perceived issues weren't issues for them and I was slowly becoming part of their pack.

They had even taught me sign language so I could communicate better with others when I wasn't able to speak and put me into speech therapy to help me develop my communication skills and fix my speech impediment. I had the most trouble with R’s,W’s,S’s and still do to this day.

I lived with them from the age 8-14 the longest I had ever stayed with one family. It was great I had made friends and really enjoyed life. Like every other kid my age this was when we all started going through the early stage of puberty and finding out who we were. This is when you typically start to see alpha, omega, or beta traits start to present. I however never showed clear signs.

It wasn't until I was about 11 when I really became self aware and realized to everyone else I was a girl, but I had honestly thought I was a boy until another boy asked me why I acted like a boy if I was a girl. I didn't answer, just ran away but then I knew I was different from others. After that I consciously began identifying outward as a male more, basically as much as I could, but this caused a lot of kids to start picking on me at school. There weren't a lot of transgender kids running around so I stood out from other kids.

My best friend, Preston James Striker the 4th, but most people just called him Striker growing up. He was always hitting stuff when he was little and when he got older he started fighting a lot and was a good one at that. Striker was my true savior most of the time, he would instantly shut down the bullies that tormented me and his family's pack unofficially took in and accepted me as their own. I spent more time with them than with my foster family. Striker’s dad, Preston James Striker the 3rd, owned a fighting and free-running gym called Strike Force Gym, so over those six years I spent most of my time in the gym learning how to defend myself.

They taught multiple fighting styles, having instructors from all over the world teaching their specialized crafts. I liked the styles of martial arts, taekwondo, and jiu jitsu the most. Preston always said I was a true boxer at heart with how powerful my punches actually are and how quick my reflexes were for a kid my size. I was constantly hyper aware of everything all the time so it came easy for me to be extremely instinctive and reactive in a fight.

I was especially good at free-running as whenever I was running and jumping around the gym or out in the city I felt the most relaxed and free from everything else in life. Even though I got quite good at fighting I never seemed to be able to use the skills outside the gym whenever my bullies decided to torment me next.

The foster placement I was with at the time didn't like all the ‘trouble’ I was causing whenever I would get into it with my bullies. Half the time they would do something bad and frame me for it. Then there was the one fight I got into when it couldn't be avoided and that got some police attention.

Around this time my foster mother was diagnosed with cancer and my foster father struggled with taking care of his sick wife and a preteen with special needs that was getting into trouble with the law and his older son who was away at college but struggling. So eventually he sat me down and explained that my social worker Melinda Gordon was going to be picking me up at the end of the week and I would be leaving and being placed with another couple.

I was 14 when I was placed into the care of The Davis’s. I've been staying with Kenneth and Joyce Davis for two years now. It was better than a group home because it was just the three of us but most of the time I was forgotten or pushed aside by the couple at the beginning.

They were mostly in it for the check the government sent and Joyce loved to parade me around like some kind of charity case for all her friends to see. She once told me I was sent to them by god so they could fix me so I could once again be a healthy and natural child of god.

The Davis are what they’d like to call Holy Folk. They were heavily involved in the community as Kenneth was a generational police officer and Joyce worked at the church and community center. I'm pretty sure they met in church when they were young and their parents arranged their marriage and lives from that moment on. Everyone loved them around the small town they lived in here in Idaho and thought they were just the best people on the Earth. In reality the second I was deemed out of line and nobody else was around the couple's sweet heavenly nature could turn in an instant.

They thought that the devil was inside of me and made me act this way and that they were god disciples reborn to cleanse my soul. I had major sensory issues, an anxiety disorder paired with selective mutism all on top of being a transgender child so naturally they thought I was possessed. They really had no education or awareness of any kind of how to properly care for an autistic child.

I remember my first Christmas with them. Their whole family pack was there and the loud party was in full swing when Kenneth’s mothers gave me a gift she made. She had knit me a wool sweater but upon putting it on it made my skin feel like it was on fire and I had immediately gotten pushed over the edge and into sensory overload and had a panic attack running to my room for the rest of the night. That night after everyone had left Kenneth had beaten me with the brand new belt he’d had gotten from one of his brothers. I had prayed to God that night before bed that it was the first and last time that would happen, unfortunate it was only the beginning.

It has only gotten worse for me in these last 5 months. When I turned 16 just like everyone else Joyce and Kennth took me in to get a status test. By then your traits should've already been presenting but this was the way to get the official status when your brain was developed enough.

Not everyone got tested right away as it was your free choice but most people do it. The human race was all originally evolved from the wolf so we all fell in the the dynamics of Alpha, Omega, and Beta and then you could fall under any of these six categories; Dominant, Submissive, Neutrals, Switch, Caregivers, and Littles. Sometimes people would have multiple classifications but mostly one prominent one that would stand above the rest. Now a days most people didn’t have the ability to shift like our ancestors did as it was a lost skill as modern civilization took over 100s over years ago. However there was a select few people that had pure enough wolf blood where they could shift. These wolfs were called Primes.

Kenneth was a Dominant Alpha and thought that any other status was basically unholy trash unless you were a married submissive Omega like Joyce was. When I took the test whether I was an Alpha, Omega, or Beta came out inconclusive and this made Kenneth pissed. Not only did I have an anxiety disorder and could barely speak but I was inconclusive basically a status in itself. One Kenneth hated and he never let me forget it.

It didn't happen often but there was about 15% of the world population that go a inconclusive status result so i wasn't the only one out there and most people that were inclusive later tested again in life and got a different result. That however didn't matter to the Davis as they were part of a proud pack that never had an inconclusive among them, so it was a big embarrassment for them.

It got to the point where I never really got a chance to be myself without the fear of getting beaten for it. There was really no expressing myself at all except for the perfect Cadence they wanted to see. I wasn’t allowed to join any training gyms because fighting wasn’t ladylike.

Skateboarding was another hobby I’d picked up but I wasn't allowed to do that either as it was a boys sport. I really only went to school, then headed to the community center where I’d help Joyce at her job, and then go back home after that. I had to be a good quiet girl that obeyed adults no matter what and if I did, then I just might be able to go to heaven and not suffer in hell for eternity.

I shook my head focusing back on the present situation at hand. I was currently on the train to LA. I had ended up in a car all to myself for the ride which was a lifesaver so I could panic in peace. It was a little longer than a two day train ride from Idaho to Los Angeles, but it was cheaper than the $469 plane tickets it would’ve been. I could barely afford the $211 train tickets, using all the money I had saved over the years. Whenever I did sn odd jobs for Joyce at the community center the Lady’s there would always hand me some money secretly without Joyce ever noticing, sometimes I wondered if they knew what was happening behind the facade Joyce and Kenneth put up. I never got that answer though.

As I sat and looked out the window I thought about the last month. Striker had sent me a casting call his dad had shown him. Marvel Studios had put out a call for a young man or woman between the age 13-19 who had skills in combat style fighting, gymnastics, and, or dancing. It was a completely open casting call for anyone to submit to either in person in LA or submit a tape online.

After Striker’s non stop badgering over text and calls I submitted an audition and sent in a video of me, Striker and some of the other guys at the gym free-running from back when I lived with them and a new sample of myself now free-running. After sending in the audition and not too long after I had gotten a call asking if I could do a couple more callback auditions over zoom. Then I was told I got the part. That’s when I found out I was going to be playing Anton Romanov, the son of the Black Widow Natasha Romanov and a mutant that Dreykov kidnapped for his powers. They told me that I needed to be in LA the next week.

That was today, there was going to be a dinner tonight for the cast, as a way to get together and all meet each other officially before filming started the following week.

The train came to a stop at union station in Los Angeles i heard over the speaker so I grabbed my duffle bag containing basically everything I owned, which wasn’t much just clothes, books, and my skateboard, a gift from Striker he secretly sent me when I turned 15 last year and I got off the train. It was 3pm and dinner wasn’t until 8pm. I checked my phone and saw that the restaurant we were supposed to meet at was in Hollywood that was about an hour or two away from here on my board. I pulled my wired headphones out of my bag, placing each bud in my ear and pulled the duffel bag over my shoulder pulling the straps tight to my body before heading off. As I was skating I called Striker.

“Brother! What’s up?” He said over the phone I could hear him clicking away at his playstation controller. Striker was a huge video game guy, he had collected probably every game console he possibly could.

“Hey Striker. I made it to LA.” I told him as I cruised down the city streets.

“Awesome! I'm jealous my parents would never let me go to LA all by myself.” He confessed as he paused his video game.

“Come on, you know Joyce and Kenneth have no idea I'm here. You're the one who made the fake website, what did you name it? Faithful Haven Camp and Retreat for Troubled Teens?” I told him with a laugh. Striker was probably one of the only people to see the true me and he felt like the safest person i had ever met. He was definitely the only person I could talk to without issue but he still respected the time I wasn't verbal and never pushed me to talk.

“Oh right? You're welcome by the way. So how is it? Have you seen anyone famous yet?” he asked.

“No, I've just only got here. Plus it's not like they're just running around everywhere. I'd assume they do their best to hide from the public.”

“Fair, you got me there. Just promise me when you meet all these famous marvel actors you get me every single one of their signatures for me okay?”

“We’ll see about that.” I told him Striker was just as much of a marvel fan as I was but he was just a lot more excitable about it.

“Preston James Striker. YOU better not be playing video games up there when I know you have homework.” I heard Striker's Mom yell, Charlotte Striker was a very sweet woman and one of the only people I could hear yell and not have it scare me because I knew she really meant no harm whatsoever.

“MOOOM, i'm on the phone with Cade and we haven't talked in weeks.” I rolled my eyes as he called out back, using me as an excuse to get him out of trouble as always.

“Tell him we say hi and bye. He might be on summer vacation but he didn't fail algebra 1 and has summer school to do.” I heard her say back and I chuckled. Striker groaned.

“Mrs. Harris, definitely had it out for me cause I'm great at math bro.” he told me and I laughed again.

“Well maybe if you paid attention in class I'd believe that.” When I went to school with Striker he could never sit still in class.

He was incredibly smart and we both were in a couple advanced classes together but everything bored him with school where I loved to learn new things and take on new information. I had an amazing memory where if I saw something or heard it long enough I could easily mimic or copy it. It was like I didn't have a speech impediment at all when I was consciously trying not to but when I talked naturally it always came back. I think this was the only reason I was able to act because it was easy to memorize the lines and become a different person than myself.

“Hey! you are supposed to be on my side, I'm hanging up now.” He said

“ Okay you're right she did sound like a bitch, is that what you want to hear?” I joked with him.

“Yess thank you my friend. Now I should go before my mom comes up here and she's me playing video games.” he told me.

“Okay i'll text you later. Bye.” Striker said goodbye and I heard the click of the phone call ending and my music started playing as I continued skating.

I was told that marvel would be putting me up in special accommodations or at least that was what it said in my contract. I figured that tonight someone would be able to show me where to go. So I just decided to head to the restaurant and hang out in that area until dinner.

After two hours I made it to Hollywood and was just hanging at a skatepark nearby to kill time. When I got there the bowl was empty so I headed in for a session.

I was really just messing around doing hand plants on the rims of the bowl or just throwing tricks as I skated around. As I came up over the edge for another hand plant, just as I’m upside down I see a blur and feel something collide with my board and I’m being knocked off course and falling into the bowl.

As I came crashing down I heard I chorus of laughter gasp and oohs. Not realizing that I had an audience as my body smacks the concrete hard and for a second all the wind is knocked out of me. An immediate pain in my left side radiates through my body and I groan. Taking a second to get my bearings, I see mine and another skateboard rolling around and there are a couple people on the edge of the bowl looking down at me.

“Hey, can you pass me my board?!” A shaggy blonde haired guy yelled down at me and started laughing at me with a couple others. I stood up and moved over to the boards. I threw the other board up and over the edge and then did the same with mine before running up the side of the bowl and hopping out. I stumbled a bit because of the pain in my side but got my balance quickly after.

“Sorry about that, it just slipped out of my hand?” I heard the blonde guy's voice say behind me and I turned to see him looking at me with a smirk. He didn’t seem very sorry and the way the board hit mine it had a lot more force than something that slipped.

Not saying anything I just was going to grab my stuff and leave. I knew how this worked. I've moved around enough to know that every once in a while there was always some territorial guy whether it was school, sports, or the skatepark that didn’t like the new kids coming in and messing with their system so I wasn’t even gonna fight him.

“Hey are you deaf or something?” He yelled in a dominating alpha voice causing my body to tense and freeze for a second. Him and his delinquent friends snickered and I rolled my eyes and continued on. Since i was inconclusive if any alpha used their Alpha voice it sometimes could affect me like it would an omega or submissive and It wasn't the first time I’d heard that one. I continued to ignore him and pick up my bag until I felt hands grab my arm and pull me back and around. I was quick to pull my arm out of the grasp but I soon realized I was face to face with the blonde and he was shoving me down to the ground.

“Well? are you deaf or just fucking dumb?” he said, towering over me pushing threatening pheromones out into the air. I quickly got back up and stood back trying to get out of his space but he followed my steps. I got into the side pocket of my bag and pulled out a laminated card I always have on hand trying to defuse the situation.

"It read: Hi I’m Cade I have an anxiety disorder called selective mutism. I am unable to speak in certain social situations. This is not a choice, it's an involuntary response, I’m not being rude."

I showed it to him and him and his buddies to read.

“ Okay, so just dumb. Either way I’ll make it simple for you. THIS. IS. MY. PARK. YOU. LEAVE.” He said to me slowing himself down like I couldn’t understand him. I rolled my eyes and just walked off. That's literally what I was trying to do.

“Dick.” I thought to myself as I was starting to calm down a bit. I hadn’t realized my heart was racing until I walked away and could hear my heart beat pounding in my ears. I found a bench on a random corner and sat down for a bit to calm down.

Once I was calm I noticed I still had some time to kill so I just mindlessly skated the city streets. It was one of my other favorite escapes, cruising down the streets weaving around traffic always calmed my mind just like free-running. LA was different from back in Idaho, the streets were busier and the drivers were a bit more erratic so I stuck to the sidewalks mostly but even the pedestrians didn't like me on the sidewalks. It wasn’t until I had to make a sudden stop for a car that was running a red light nearly running me over did I realize how late it had gotten.

It was 7:48pm and I was probably 30 minutes away from the restaurant now so I quickly headed that direction. I made it to the restaurant and it was 8:23 pm meaning I was late. My anxiety spiked but I tried not to think about it but as I looked at the fancy building across the street I thought I might be way in over my head. I quickly ducked down into an alleyway and dug through my bag looking for something better to wear then the now dirty plaid shirt and now ripped jeans from my fall I had on. I switched it for a navy blue long sleeve sweater and a pair of black pants.

I groaned a bit as I changed seeing that my left side was starting to bruise from the fall and the pain radiating from that side slowed me down but I tried to go as fast as possible. Once I changed I made my way up to the front and entered the restaurant.

I stood by the door for a second and scanned the room for any familiar faces but I didn't see any.

“Hi there, can I help you?” The woman at the host desk noticed me and I headed toward her pulling out the same card as I did before. I had practiced this sentence many times in my head. I learned that if I could memorize whatever I needed to say it was easier to say it but I knew it was going to be a struggle to speak tonight with all the anxiety coursing through me.

“H-hi i’m here to-o me...” I started to say but gave up and put the card infront of her. As she read the card I opened my voice to speech app and typed out something for her.

“I'm here to meet a group for dinner. I'm late but it was supposed to be a private dinner under the name Kevin Feige.” the voice said for me and the woman smiled.

“Oh yes! I was told to expect you. The rest of your party is already here so I’ll take you on up.” She said and I followed her up a staircase away from where the regular customers were dining and upstairs to a loft where they held their private parties and events.

“You can leave that here if you like.” She said to me as we got to the top of the stairs and there was a coat check station on the side before entering into the private dining room. I passed my bag and board over to the guy at the counter and he gave me a small piece of paper with a number on it for when I was done. I could hear talking and laughter on the other side of the door and my anxiety grew, doubling in size inside my chest.

The host led me into the dining room and like that the room quieted down and everyone turned to look at us, she quickly exited the room leaving me standing there, unsure of what to do.

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