#I’m sorry that you chose violence when I decided to give you guys a christmas update | Explore Tumblr posts and blogs

sergeanttpoliteness · 5 years ago

Note

Spiderverse Gwen x Reader where The reader is out as les/bi/pan whatever and Gwen is scared to tell her she likes her?

AND➝ Gwen is ready to start letting people back into her life after the events of Spiderverse. MJ, aware of Gwen trying to open her social circle, tells her about a nice girl from her apartment building and brings the reader along at their next band practice to introduce her. Gwen sets eyes on her and is VEEEERY attracted to this VEEEERY pretty girl. In Gwen’s bisexual distress, she starts rambling nervously, and probably says something embarrassing about herself. MJ saves them from an awkward situation and starts band practice, Gwen doesn’t see reader outside of school again after that, but Gwen shamelessly stares at her during class. Gwen starts to overthink the situation and gets worried she blew her chance. Later, there’s a situation that she as Spider-Gwen saves reader from. Reader is minorly hurt but SG has to go before she can help reader as authorities arrive. Feeling guilty, her spider sense leads SG to the reader’s apartment, she goes to check on her that night. Confident with her mask on, she strikes up a conversation, compliments her and even drops a bit of a flirty remark about reader before taking her leave. I didnt know where to go from there I’m new to requesting so I hope this isn’t too long but I hope that’ll be enough to get the ball rolling? -🍀

deeply sorry it took me so long to get to these again! i changed a few things, but it’s pretty much still the same idea. i hope the nonnie who requested this finds it and doesn’t think i ignored them :( ily, y’all deserve better.

——-

➹she plays bass➹(spider-gwen x fem!reader)

That feeling when there’s a cute girl who plays bass in your band and you don’t know what the hell to do about it.

Gwen needs help figuring out her feelings. Like, immediately.

word count: 11.6k (oops i did it again)

a/n: i’m sorry this new fic is the size of the bible like the last one, i’ll try to make the next one shorter lmaooo. but it’s what my fave girl deserves due to the unacceptable lack of stories about her on this site. plus, i swear that once you read it it’s so much shorter than it seems. i’m hoping i can post at least one more story before the end of the year, but if i don’t, happy holidays and new year ! y’all were the best part about my 2019 :) hope whoever is reading this has a lovely week. mwah.

warnings: violence, guns, swearing.

——-

She played bass.

You played bass, to be more specific. And Mary Jane Watson took satisfaction in believing that she was nice. More than simply ‘just nice’ on good days, even. Being the most courteous person was a duty she considered to be hers ever since she was six-years-old and accompanied that girl who always seemed to be left behind in the playground, and years later, in high school when she punched a creep hassling one of her bandmates. Last but most certainly not least, Betty Brant, bass guitar player of the Mary Janes, slipped and fell backwards one unfortunate evening, and she shot out her left arm behind her to break the fall and save her ice cream from hitting the ground. Good news: her ice cream did not hit the ground. Bad news, however, her left hand did— in an odd, twisted position. Needless to say, Betty Brant now had a broken wrist.

At first glance, they’re all unrelated events, stars belonging to separate constellations, and they would have remained so— undisturbed, simply coexisting in the same sky. That was, until Gwen came into the picture and drew a line connecting the bright flecks when she opened her mouth.

In the moment that she admitted to MJ that the idea of meeting new people sounded more appealing each day, she scribbled down the equation in her bandmate’s brain and hit ‘solve’. The redhead’s face lit up, putting to shame a Christmas tree as that sense of responsibility called for her attention. Immediately, she felt obligated to make the Nobel Peace prize-worthy move of texting her neighbor she just met, who also played the bass, to join them on the coming Saturday for band practice. That night, as she prepared to go to sleep, Em Jay cracked an accomplished smile at the reflection in her mirror.

However, two weeks had passed since your first practice with the Mary Janes, and MJ’s pride dove off from where it sat on her shoulder as she observed from afar with furrowed brows how Gwen so fucking blatantly ignored you after you tried to give her a high five.

“What the hell was that?!” She hissed at Glory who stood beside her, cringing as you awkwardly dropped your hand and turned away from Gwen. Sighing, MJ rubbed her face with sheer desperation— a rather drastically different action from her naïve smile many nights ago. “I put an opportunity right on her fucking lap to make a friend, and she can’t act like a nice normal human being!”

Glory bit the inside of her cheek, sporting her own grimace. “I dunno, maybe they’ll click soon—”

“It’s been two weeks, Glory!” MJ whined. She crossed her arms across her chest, eyes narrowing into concentrated slits, and her gaze returned to an oblivious Gwen who shot at your back what she thought in her mind was a discreet glance. “I can’t let this fail. I gotta step in.” Glory raised a brow.

“Or you could just, you know, let them get to know each other at their own pace?“

“That’s dumb.”

Glory opened her mouth but gave up immediately, seeing MJ’s persistence as a lost cause she, in all honesty, did not want to waste any energy battling against that day. “Follow my lead,” MJ elbowed her, winking before she caught Gwen’s and your attention. “Who wants pizza? I do, and so does Glory. You guys want to go out and eat?“

“I don’t really feel like going out.”

“Glory, what the fuck?” MJ said under her breath, but later shook her head, a smile stretching across her face. “It’s fine! We’ll just go get it and we can eat here."

Glory frowned. "But—”

“I mean, sure. I’m definitely in the mood for pizza.” You shrugged, the corner of your mouth lifting upwards. Gwen, however, eyed Glory with suspicion, who in return flashed her an apologetic smile. MJ clapped her hands together, cheering.

“Great!” She grabbed Glory’s hand and dragged her out of the room, glancing back at the two other girls. “We’ll be back in fifteen!”

Not even five seconds passed after they closed the door before you jumped off the couch and muttered to Gwen that you were going to the bathroom, an action that Gwen chose not to spend any time analyzing for her own sanity; but even if she had decided to, the ringing of her phone would’ve interrupted her nonetheless. After she took out her phone and saw MJ’s contact name, she let out the longest sigh in her entire seventeen years of living.

“Couldn’t you have just called for the pizza?” She went straight to the point— no greeting or anything, which left MJ stumped for three seconds, and surprised she had caught onto what was going on in record time.

“No, otherwise my plan wouldn’t have worked. You’re welcome, by the way.”

“What plan and why am I welcome?”

MJ scoffed. “I’m giving you another chance to talk to Y/N, seeing as you completely blew every other one you had.” Gwen perked one eyebrow, confused.

“How come?”

“She tried to give you a high-five and you left her hanging, Gwendolyn.” She said with an obvious tone. “And that’s just one example of many.”

Gwen sat straight, her eyes growing wide. “Wait, I did?”

“Yes, you fucking idiot!” Gwen shut her eyes closed, covering her face with her hand. “How did you not notice, it’s so painfully obvious she’s trying to be your friend but you’ve gained the award of dickhead of the day.”

Gwen rolled her eyes, although let out an amused huff of air through her nose. “Did Glory agree to this little plan of yours?”

MJ took a moment of silence. “No, but her opinion doesn’t really matter right now.”

“Yeah, I bet she didn’t, because it’s fucking stupid, Mary Jane.”

“Em Jay.”

“You called me Gwendolyn.”

“Whatever,” MJ grumbled, “you asked for this, Gwen. Be thankful, ‘cause I’m really tryin’ here.”

Gwen heard you flush the toilet, and not too long after, the sound of the faucet running. “Hell, okay, fine.” She whispered into the phone. “She’s coming, I have to go.” Before MJ could utter a word, she ended the call right as you walked out of the bathroom and flashed her a tight-lipped smile. You sat back down on the couch, an obvious distance between you two. More time passed while you hunched over your cellphone and Gwen eyed you sideways, gripping her hands together in between her knees, her heart speeding up each time she dared to speak up, and her face heating up albeit she hadn’t directed a word at you yet.

She cleared her throat. “So!”

You made eye contact with her and she felt obligated to flash you a nervous smile after the silence continued. Eventually, the corner of your mouth lifted upwards. “So what?” You questioned, curious. Gwen’s smile gradually fell. She should’ve contemplated what she was going to say first before she spoke.

“…What’s your favorite pizza topping?” Gwen hit herself mentally. There literally was no excuse for why she was acting like this— hell, she herself couldn’t even find one. But, on the bright side (however, perhaps not so much for Gwen), whilst the girl was sure this was an agonizing and slow death from embarrassment, your amused grin widened with her visible anxiety.

“I don’t know. There’s a lot of options.” You shrugged, your attention moving back to your device. Gwen considered leaving you alone, seeing as this conversation very obviously wasn’t going anywhere, but that option disintegrated as soon as she imagined Em Jay intentionally delaying her arrival with Glory and the pizza so she could take full advantage of her ‘chance’, which she was ninety-nine percent sure was the case.

“I really like pepperoni.” She blurted out. Your eyes momentarily traveled up to Gwen and you pursed your lips, nodding slowly.

“Cool.”

My God, you really were not collaborating even an ounce— it was a reach, but it was as if you were voluntarily trying to make this as difficult and socially traumatizing for Gwen as possible. Gwen scratched her head, searching for more conversation ideas, but her brain remained as empty as a desert in the middle of nowhere, except for the one tumbleweed happily rolling along its way which was her last idea, and the main purpose of this sad conversation.

“I’m really sorry for that high-five you tried to give me earlier,” Gwen muttered, incapable of looking at you straight in the eye for long. “Em Jay just told me about it.”

Finally, you tore your concentration away from your phone and focused on Gwen. You didn’t know whether it was the seriousness of her voice combined with the absurdity of the sentence, but you found yourself struggling to hold back your giggles. Gwen’s eyebrows twisted with puzzlement as she saw your blushing cheeks and you biting your lip hard, your shoulders shaking ever so slightly.

“That’s… adorable. It’s alright. It happens to all of us, I guess.” You laughed out. In Gwen’s never-ending humiliation, she couldn’t discern your expression from simple amusement or judgment.

Gwen stuttered, brushing her hair behind her ear. “Okay, cool. I-I just didn’t want you to think that I hated you or something like that.”

“Oh, don’t worry, I did not.”

“Good. Because I don’t. Obviously.” She continued, forcing out a chuckle. “I really don’t.”

You smiled hesitantly. “Again… don’t worry, I get it—”

“I just, I wasn’t paying attention to you.” Gwen clarified but closed her mouth immediately, regret drying her throat. You pressed your lips into a straight line. “But I don’t mean that in a rude way, hah. I’m always looking at you.” She dug herself deeper and her eyes grew wide, a tense cough fleeing past her lips after you raised your brows.

“I mean, no, I’m not always looking at you, like, staring, but like, looking forward to whatever you have to say…?” She talked slowly, questioning her own words. “Why would I look at you, anyway?” Ah, fuck, that’s not what she meant.

Your expression transformed into an offended look and she rushed to correct herself. “No! I mean— you’re, like, very, very pretty, don’t get me wrong.” She let out a frustrated sigh, “Again, I don’t mean that in a weird way, I just—”

“Okay! I get it.” You stopped her and stood up, pointing at your phone. “I have to go, it’s pretty late, so I won’t be able to eat with you guys, but, uh… thanks anyway. Maybe next time.” You explained, uncomfortable. You both dubiously gestured goodbye to each other before you nearly ran out of the door.

From then on, Gwen kind of wanted to hide in her room for the rest of her life, or at least from you; but sadly, she couldn’t do either. She could’ve moved on and just let it be a memory she could laugh about in the future, but she couldn’t hide what had happened to MJ— she retold her and Glory the encounter, and the trauma returned as Glory burst out laughing right in her face and Em Jay simply stared at her like a disappointed mother. Again, she really was determined to forget the whole ordeal, but later in the evening, when all she wanted to do was plop down on her bed and call it a night after another day of patrol, she answered her landline only for her ears to be attacked with MJ’s pleas for her to go fix things since ‘she was so embarrassed for her she literally couldn’t go to sleep’. Gwen hung up on her.

As she originally had intended before MJ disrupted her night, Gwen jumped onto her bed and rolled onto her back, promising in her head that she’d take off her suit in a minute. She stared up at the ceiling for longer than a minute, thinking about MJ’s words. What was the point in going to apologize to you again, anyway? Gwen wasn’t going to do it simply to please her. MJ could gladly go and shove her microphone up her—

“I can’t believe I’m doing this,” Gwen said to herself as she stood outside your school building. She looked down at her watch. She could’ve been doing so much right then. Someone was probably getting murdered, or a robbery was going on, and she had homework to finish, but she was wasting her time waiting in front of a school like the creep of the block. However, she thought she might as well stick to it in the instant that students began to swarm out of the entrance doors.

She considered leaving. It was her first thought when she ultimately saw you walking amongst the crowd, talking to your friends. You hadn’t noticed her. It wouldn’t make a difference if she spun and ran out of there, like a scared child fleeing from the monster living in her closet. You turned your gaze away from your friend whilst laughing, and similar to the demon (no offense) peeking through the slit in between the closet doors, you found yourself staring into a familiar pair of blue eyes.

There was no going back.

Gwen breathed in profoundly and flashed you a sheepish smile, waving weakly with her shoulders raised. She watched you say goodbye to your friends before you hesitantly approached her, your eyebrow lifted in a questioning manner. “Gwen?”

“Yup. That’s me, hah…” She moved her hair away from her face after the wind disheveled it, brushing it behind her ear as she avoided your eyes. “I know you’re wondering—”

“What you’re doing here? Yes, yes I am.” You said, the humor distinctive in your voice, but Gwen scrunched up her nose, shaking her head.

“Don’t worry, I’m not… stalking you,” She laughed nervously and stopped herself before history repeated itself. “I would’ve texted you, but my phone…” Now has a bullet hole. “Broke. Em Jay told me I could meet you here.”

You folded your arms across your chest, shifting your weight to one leg. “Well, I’m here, you’re here, so what’s up? Did you want to continue talking about how you don’t pay attention to me?” You joked, tilting your head.

Gwen winced slightly, cringing. “Actually, no.”

“Okay, good.”

“I came here to apologize. A real apology this time.”

You let your arms drop by your sides, interested and waiting for what she had to say. “I was really awkward. Painfully awkward, and I made you uncomfortable. So, I was hoping that we could maybe… start over again?” She held out her hand.

You briefly glanced down at it before glancing back up at her biting her lip anxiously. You giggled, nodding. “You’re so dramatic, dude.”

You shook her hand.

“So… we’re good?”

You smiled. “We’re good.” Gwen grinned back, her tooth gap having a peculiar effect in your stomach. She peeked at her watch a second time with the intent of leaving; but before she could say goodbye, you adjusted your backpack straps and spoke up. “Actually… now that you’re here, how about we go get something to eat?”

Gwen blinked, her finger coming up to point at her chest. “M-me? And you?” You agreed with your head, laughing.

“Obviously, you dummy. I don’t see anyone else here.” You playfully punched her arm and she looked down at the spot, her eyes narrowed.

Ah, well. There was no going back.

If there was one thing, one enemy that constantly played with Gwen’s sanity, time was a top-three candidate which popped into her head immediately. Popped wasn’t perhaps even the correct word, for it remained there everlastingly as a nagging fear— a deafening, continuous tick-tock reminding her of how little, or what a painstaking amount of time she had in her hands, and all the things she could or could not do during it. Being Spider-Woman, pages and pages of school work, the Mary Janes, Mary Jane and Gwen’s duty to answer her messages the moment she received them, her aspirations, her dad— it messed with her brain, tangled all the connections into an indestructible knot she could purely helplessly stare at. But when she read the time and realized how late it had become, the panic merely bubbled and spread in her chest. Rather you laughed and she felt the necessity to look away from the numbers to focus on you, despite the tick-tock still present and blaring like a tsunami alert in her ears.

You sat facing her in the restaurant booth, smirking as you bit into a french fry. “You know, I gotta say, you impressed me quite a lot with your drumming.” Gwen bashfully moved a piece of lettuce around her plate, propping her chin upon the palm of her hand.

“You’re not so bad yourself.” She shrugged, smiling at you. You maintained your gaze on her for a moment until you shook yourself out of your odd trance, lowering your head.

“Thanks for hanging out with me. I was tired of hanging out with myself, you know?”

Gwen furrowed her brows, adamant on fixing her look on the most boring stray lettuce ever. “Why? You’re a fun person.”

“Really? ��Cause it doesn’t seem like that’s what you think about me.” You teased her, masking the undeniable bit of hurt.

Gwen’s finger’s movements came to a halt and she placed her hands on the table, leaning towards you. “What?! What do you mean?”

“Alright, then what do you really think about me?” You put your elbows on the hard surface and mimicked Gwen, a crooked smile adorning your features. Gwen bit her lip in thought, raising one shoulder.

“You’re cool.” She said simply, trying to appear nonchalant. An ‘oof’ slipped past your lips and you clutched onto your chest, dramatizing the insulted expression.

“That’s it? Just cool? I’m a bit hurt.”

Gwen rolled her eyes, laughing. “What else do you want me to say?”

“I dunno, last time you said I was— and I quote— ‘very, very pretty’” You recalled, using air quotes. Gwen scratched her eyebrow, left blank on what to reply because— oh, yeah right— she did, in fact, say that.

The smugness lingered on your face as you waited for her to break down and repeat herself, but she composed herself and cleared her throat. “Hey, it’s not fair if you’re the only one asking questions! Being interviewed is hard work, you know.” She raised her hands defensively, her eyebrows lifted. You immediately caught onto what she was doing and pointed an accusing finger at her.

“You’re avoiding my question.”

“Well, where’s the fun in knowing all the answers to the universe?”

You had to agree. But you leaned back and crossed one leg over the other, accidentally (or was it?) nudging her leg with your foot. “I don’t know. I like honesty.”

Oh dear, Gwen narrowed her eyes, her chest throbbing. “Hey—” The both of you jumped and looked at the source of the greeting— neither of you knew when exactly, but the waiter stood there with a polite smile, holding three menus close to his stomach. “Just letting y’all know that since Valentine’s Day is coming up, the milkshakes are on discount for couples.” Gwen leaned far away from the table, from you, and let out an uncomfortable chuckle.

“Oh, no, we’re not—”

“Oh, great!” You exclaimed and grabbed Gwen’s hand. “Do you want to share one, babe?”

Gwen froze, her shoulders and the hand you clutched onto tense, prickling at your touch. You looked at her attentively, and your lovey-dovey eyes left her stunned, grabbed onto her voice and trapped it in her throat— intimidated her. She had to give it to you, though, your acting could fool anyone or leave anyone wondering…especially her.

Seeing as the seconds continued to pass and she never replied, you chose to take it as a sign that she was following you and you glanced up at the waiter. “We’d like a vanilla milkshake, please.” You smiled.

Following the waiter’s departure, Gwen looked at you surprised. “I thought you liked honesty?” She laughed in disbelief, pretending to judge you intensely. You innocently picked up another fry, hiding your growing beam.

“Hey, I’m not gonna turn down a discount.”

Gwen giggled, shaking her head. “Fair enough. But you’re crazy.”

“But you still love me, right babe?” You smirked and lifted your connected hands. When Gwen realized she hadn’t let go yet, she first thought about pulling away. But she didn’t. Instead, she timidly squeezed your hand, forcing out a scoff.

“Right. Of course, babe.”

Finally, you unclasped your hands and Gwen’s hand slowly curled into a fist as she considered something. “Hey, where are you headed after this?” She rushed out. You tilted your head.

“Home. Why?”

She swallowed her nerves, thinking about dismissing her own question and shrugging it off. She had to get back home as well, after all.

But she didn’t want to yet.

“Can I walk you back?”

The walk back to your place dragged on for longer than usual, and you both pretended to act shocked, as if it’d been a glitch in the matrix and time ticked away slower than normal; but in the back of your heads, the two of you knew it’d been no accident, that you weren’t too engulfed into your conversation enough that you ended up taking the long way back home without noticing. Perhaps the two of you wandered longer, slowed down your pace much more than necessary— clung onto the moon and kept it in its place in the sky with your excuses so the night would stay, last as much as you wanted it to. Your efforts were partly successful, but of course, it had to come to an end eventually.

Your meetings didn’t, though. No, they were just getting started.

On Valentine’s Day, you might have taken advantage of another discount for couples, but no one really needed to know that. After that day and after Gwen finally got a new phone (it took her a few days to tell her dad, since she knew he wouldn’t be the happiest once he heard how her phone got destroyed in the first place), you sent her a message which she couldn’t deny made her insides feel a type of way: ‘If you ever need a fake date, don’t hesitate in calling me’.

And a winky face. She couldn’t forget the winky face.

But, in all truth, neither of you needed a ‘fake date’ as a reason to see each other. Every once in awhile, Thursday and Saturday after band practice, the two of you would abandon the girls and simply hang out. It didn’t matter where— sometimes you didn’t even have a place in mind, but somehow, gladly for your brain fearing rejection, Gwen would agree nonetheless. She didn’t think much about it until one afternoon, once you were done telling a bad joke that embarrassingly enough made her laugh, she realized she hadn’t checked the time. Not once.

During band practice, MJ and Glory noted that something had changed. Mainly because they soon realized they hadn’t witnessed any new embarrassing events between you two for them to laugh at behind your backs in a while, but your peeks at each other weren’t fearful anymore. They were now… something which they couldn’t place their finger on, but it was different enough for them to share a look and raise their eyebrows. Naturally, it didn’t take long before Em Jay had to jam herself into your affairs and asked you what you thought about Gwen, using as a justification that you had gotten a month and a half to get to know the band.

If Gwen could’ve gotten the opportunity to travel back in time to step in and prevent Em Jay from getting close to you with her blabbering mouth, she would’ve taken it immediately.

“When were you going to tell me you two fucking knew each other?!” MJ’s shriek hurt Gwen’s ears and left her speechless for a few moments after she walked into the room. Then, she succeeded in processing her question through her brain, and her face was now considerably paler than before.

“Hello to you too?”

MJ glared at her and walked away from her. While she moved around the many cables on the floor with her foot, Gwen dropped her backpack near the door, eyeing her. “How do you know?”

“I talked to Y/N.” She simply responded. Gwen huffed, unbelieving, and crossed her arms.

“And why did you talk to her?”

MJ gave her an obvious look. “Because, uh, she’s my bandmate? And my friend?” Gwen rolled her eyes and crouched down to take her drumsticks from her bag; meanwhile, Em Jay wasn’t over the topic yet. “I can’t believe you kept that from me. Unbelievable. I’m the only one who knows about your little spider secret!” She threw her hands in the air, as if her attitude wasn’t already dramatic enough. Gwen looked up at her with squinted eyes.

“Because you found out on accident. Did you also tell her about that?” She scoffed, standing up. Em Jay followed her to the drums, pursing her lips.

“No. She wouldn’t believe me anyway. But in my defense, Glory and Betty never do either, so you’ve literally got nothing to worry about.”

Gwen sat down on the drum stool. “We met last year, but we never became friends, though. We’re just acquaintances, I’m sorry. Is that what you wanted to hear?”

Em Jay shrugged, her expression unchanging. “Yeah, I guess. Now I’m embarrassed for you again, though. You have to apologize to her.”

Gwen’s mouth hung slightly open. “I already apologized twice! Why would I do it again?!”

“You acted as if you didn’t know her when you first met! Like, who does that?” However, before Gwen could explain herself, you and Glory walked through the door, carrying your instruments plus a milkshake in your hand.

“Sup.” Glory nodded her head at the two girls. MJ shot finger guns at her and you walked up to Gwen before you stretched out your arm, holding the milkshake up to her face.

Gwen quirked a brow. “What’s this?”

“I got you a milkshake, babe.” You joked, smirking. Gwen’s cheeks and ears reddened and she hesitantly accepted it, her mouth twitching. “Since we haven’t had the chance to hang out in a while.”

MJ and Glory shared another of their looks, the one with which they telepathically communicated with. After you left Gwen, MJ kneeled down beside her, grinning knowingly.

“She told me she thinks you’re great, dude. Do whatever you want with that information.”

Gwen chose not to do anything with it. At least not for now.

Summer break came along to free Gwen from the suffocating hold school had around her neck, and more importantly, to give her time to focus on patrolling, the Mary Janes, and, well, you. Texting you in the morning, texting you at noon, texting you in the afternoon after she managed to stop a robbery at Junction Boulevard, texting you at night; and she couldn’t forget, of course, spending time with you whenever you could. How could she forget? It seemed almost impossible now, for you had implemented yourself into her routine, but she couldn’t quite pinpoint in what moment. She didn’t even come upon the realization until you left the state for a week, and she found herself waiting for your texts.

However, once you returned and the band reunited, Em Jay wasted no time and suggested having a ‘girl’s night’ at her place, claiming it wasn’t because she ‘missed you all, or anything, but for band-bonding’. She sent you and Gwen to the store to buy snacks (and, unsurprisingly for Gwen, winked at Glory as you two walked out of the door), and right now you both stood in front of the freezers, Gwen observing you as you put all your concentration, your tongue poking out of your mouth, on combining two sodas into an empty water bottle. Gwen gagged dramatically, laughter escaping her throat nonetheless. “That’s fucking gross, man.” She grimaced while you giggled maniacally.

The new beverage fizzled and you analyzed it closely, your eyes following the bubbles dancing in the liquid. “I can’t believe they sell bacon and ranch dressing soda here. This place is nuts.”

“And you’re mixing them together.”

“You could say I’m a scientist.”

Gwen scoffed at your statement, a grin lingering on her face. You sniffed the soda, and held it up to her face. “Do you want to try it?”

Gwen pushed the bottle away with her finger, wrinkling her nose. “You could have me at gunpoint and I still wouldn’t try it.”

You pouted, screwing the cap closed. “Okay, your loss, I guess. I’ll have it here just in case you change your mind.” You waved the bottle and placed it on a shelf before you kneeled down to inspect the bags of marshmallows. Gwen shook her head, her smile reaching her eyes.

“Trust me, I won’t.”

You picked up a bag, eyeing her sideways. “You know what?” You stole back her attention and she hummed, tilting her head. “You’re my favorite member in the band.”

Gwen’s face softened, although she wondered if she was crazy, or if her hands were all of a sudden clammy. “Me? Your… your favorite?” She asked, her voice small. You looked down, hoping she couldn’t see your timid expression.

“Yeah. I mean, no offense to Em Jay or Glory— they’re both awesome, but… I really like you, Gwen Stacy.” You shared eye contact, the corner of your mouth quirking up.

Gwen searched for something to distract herself with, and wound up snatching a random bag of gummies and pretending to read the ingredients. “Are you just trying to get me to pay for all of this?” She joked, gesturing to the casket of food. You let out a dramatic sigh, grumpily looking away from her.

“Aw, man, you caught me.” You made a sad face, but it was fleeting. “…But, no. I mean it. For real.”

Gwen bit her lip, her face the shade of the cherry candy in her hands. “Yeah, well… you’re pretty cool as well, Y/N L/N.” She copied you, shrugging. You groaned in annoyance, staring heavenward.

“Don’t give me that ‘you’re cool’ bullshit again.” You warned, mocking her voice and she giggled, placing the candy back in its place.

“What? It’s the truth!”

“Is that really all you think of me?” You feigned disappointment, playing with her.

No. Most definitely not. Gwen had grown to form many opinions about you other than solely ‘just cool’. Her thoughts varied. Sometimes she liked the way you made her laugh so effortlessly. Other times she couldn’t wrap her head around how, with you, the concept of time was both nonexistent and eternal, a concept you took its meaning away from, for it became irrelevant. She loved how you played bass, and how you gave it a voice, personified it into a dancing body that mesmerized her. She liked the way the corners of your eyes crinkled when you smiled, and how you tilted your head sometimes when you were confused like a puppy. She liked your way of talking, your hair, how you dressed, your posture, your face and the flaws in your skin.

Maybe she really liked you. And that scared her.

When she didn’t answer, you gave up and stood up, stretching your legs. “Okay, at least I’m glad you think I’m cool. It’s what I’d expect from my fake girlfriend.” You winked at her playfully, but she wasn’t fully paying attention now. “Okay, last question, though—”

Gwen sighed, her shoulders dropping. “What now?” You moved your arms behind your back, drawing a circle with the tip of your shoe on the floor.

“You never answered if you really think that I’m pretty.”

Gwen almost choked. She thought she had escaped that question months ago. Without thinking, her gaze landed on the soda hybrid sitting on the shelf and she grabbed it. You didn’t know what was happening in front of you until Gwen was sputtering after taking a big gulp of the drink. “What the fuck?! Why did you do that!” You gasped, your eyes wide and the laughter daring to climb up your throat.

Gwen stuck her tongue out and coughed, her face scrunching up with regret. “If I drink the soda then I don’t have to answer the question.” You couldn’t believe she was willing to do anything instead of giving you an answer.

You doubled over, cackling and holding your stomach. “Since when is that a rule?!”

“Since now.”

For the record, Gwen did think you were pretty. Very, very pretty.

As time went by, Gwen couldn’t help but stare during practice. Stare at your fingers, sliding down and up the neck with ease; your head, nodding along to the music, lost in it enough that you didn’t notice the obvious ogling from her part. And your face. She tried focusing on it most of the time, but it resulted a lot more difficult than she originally expected. You either moved it too much whilst you played, or you faced away from her since—well— she did play the drums.

There was also the third reason. The unsettling burn in her chest that sped up her breathing if her mind went too far, which occurred if she thought about you too much. Too deeply. But, God, did she try, and God, did she take advantage of every time you looked back at her, because you inexplicably dissolved that uneasiness in her.

Late at night, with your blankets wrapped around you tightly, you stared at your phone screen, mindlessly scrolling and double-tapping every picture you came upon. Not a minute passed before you opened a conversation, however, perhaps for the fourth time— not that it was anyone’s business, anyway— awaiting for another text. Gwen’s text, to be more specific. You didn’t want to come off as obsessive, but it had been an hour and thirteen minutes yet she hadn’t responded, and you… were missing her? You shook your head. Well. There was a possibility that you were. Maybe, you couldn’t get her off your mind, and maybe, you wished you could simply think about her and she’d integrate right there in your bedroom—

A knock on the window disrupted your train of thought, and as if on cue, a notification rang from your phone. ‘It’s me’, you read. Gwen had sent the message. “What the fuck?” You muttered, confused. Needing to see it for yourself, you jumped out of your bed and ran to your window before you unlatched the window lock and slid it open.

Of course, as the text message said, it was indeed Gwen, in your fire escape, and not a prank she elaborated to scare the life out of you. “Hi.” Was all she said. You tilted your head, your brows knitted together.

“Hi? Is that all you’re going to say?”

She thought for a second. “…How are you?”

“What are you doing in my fire escape?”

“I got locked out of my house.” She shrugged.

You let out a huff of air in disbelief, moving out of the way so she could climb inside. As she threw one leg over the sill, you placed your hands on your hips, shaking your head. “You get locked out of your house, and the first place that comes to your mind is my place?” You questioned, amused. Yet again, Gwen raised and dropped her shoulders. You went to close the window, but not before glancing out, imagining all the struggle she must’ve gone through to lower the ladder and then climb up five stories. “And how the hell did you even get all the way up here?” You muttered to yourself, but Gwen heard it.

“It’s a fire escape, my dear. They’re there to, you know, get out of the building so you don’t die if there’s a fire?”

You rolled your eyes and sat down on your bed. “Okay, just be quiet, ‘cause I don’t think my family would be very happy about having an unexpected visitor this late.” Guilt sculpted Gwen’s countenance.

“I mean… I can leave if you want—”

“No.” You said quickly, too fast for your liking, actually. You cleared your throat and smiled, patting the area beside you. “No, it’s alright. You can stay however long you want. They don’t have to find out.” You waggled your eyebrows jokingly. She was grateful the sole lamp rested on your bedside table, far away from you and its amber touch embracing you alone, for she didn’t need you seeing the blood rapidly rushing to her warm face.

Gwen sat down where you motioned her to, although kept some distance, and squeezed her hands resting on her lap together. “Thanks… it’ll just be a while. My dad had an emergency, and I really don’t know when he’ll be back, so…” She explained and popped her mouth after her sentence died out. You nodded understandingly, shuffling somewhat closer to her.

“I’m glad you came here. I wouldn’t want you staying out there and freezing to death. Plus, I was pretty bored.”

Gwen raised a brow. “Bored? Aren’t you supposed to be sleeping?”

You scoffed with a faint smile. “Shut up, hypocrite. You were out so late that you got left out of your house.”

“I was busy!”

“Doing what? Selling drugs?”

“Maybe. You’ll never know.”

You began to fan yourself. “Ooh, a drug lord, so hot.”

Gwen scrunched up her nose, giving you a judgemental look. “Is that what turns you on? Drug lords?”

“Nah, that’s not quite it…” You glanced at her out of the corner of your eye before your gaze shifted to your lap, your fingers playing with the hem of your shirt.

Gwen didn’t know whether she was reaching— but oh. She didn’t know what courage the universe granted her, either, for she then focused on her nails and pretended to be uninterested. “Huh, then what does turn you on?” Your eyebrows almost reached your hairline in surprise, but you quickly composed yourself.

“Why do you want to know?” You asked, leaning closer to her. She shrugged one shoulder.

“I mean, you never know. What if a friend of mine wanted to ask you out?”

You bit your lip. “Depends. Is she cute?”

“I never specified their gender. And it’s theoretical.” She cleared up, raising one finger. You laughed, moving even closer to her.

“Well, then, I really like blue eyes.”

“…Really?” Her shy voice made your organs jump, which you didn’t know if it was normal or a serious medical condition you should get checked out. You hummed, holding yourself up with your arms behind you. “They’re cool, I guess.” Again, she tried to sound as if she didn’t care, or as if your comment didn’t make her as happy as it secretly did.

“Short hair is also pretty cute.” You added. “Especially if it’s a cool hairstyle.”

“A cool… a cool hairstyle, huh? What do you mean?”

“I don’t know.” Gwen now knew how frustrated you felt when she avoided your questions. “What about you?” You looked at her, insecurity threatening to overpower your current confidence.

“Oh. I don’t know. Musicians are hot.” She showed you a crooked smile. You wanted to squeal, embarrassingly enough.

“Do you like bass guitar players?” A bold move, indeed. Gwen faked entering deep into thought.

“…Eh, I think drummers are hotter.”

You shoved her playfully, laughing. “Rude!”

“Hey, you asked what I liked.” You both giggled, struggling to keep your noises down, but eventually, your laughter dissipated and she played with her fingers. “But bass players are pretty cute, too.”

You gulped, Gwen’s shoulder touching yours spiking your nerves. “Yeah, well, I agree that drummers are cute, too.”

You both glanced down at each other’s lips, holding your breaths. However, before you could do anything, Gwen got to her feet. “You should try getting some sleep. I don’t want you being sleep deprived because of me.” She laughed nervously, taking off her sneakers.

Disappointment invaded your brain, but admittedly, your eyes did feel a lot heavier than before. “What are you gonna do?” You questioned, remembering her situation. You definitely were more worried than her, who was unfazed.

“I’ll just wait I guess.”

“You should catch some Z’s as well.”

Gwen didn’t argue. She climbed into bed with you, although insisted she didn’t need any covers or blankets since she was just going to take a nap. After that, you couldn’t resist the sleep threatening to spread through your system and you passed out. It felt like minutes passed at most, until you were suddenly gently shaken awake.

You fought to open your eyes before you squinted and looked up at whoever had woken you up. Slowly, the indistinguishable figure transformed into Gwen’s apologetic smile dimly lit by your bedside lamp.

“Hey, sleepyhead.”

You groaned, rubbing your bleary eyes and sitting up. “What time is it?” You croaked out. Gwen squinted to discern the numbers in her watch.

“Two in the morning.”

“Two in the morning?!” She nodded, laughing quietly. “Do you have to go?” You would’ve been embarrassed by the heartbreak in your voice, but you were too out of it to dwell on it.

“Yeah, but it’s okay, you can go back to sleep. I just wanted to let you know.”

You didn’t quite process what was going on until you saw her backing away to the window. Suddenly fully awake, your eyes widened and you threw your covers off of you. “What are you doing?”

Gwen opened the window and glanced back at you, lifting a brow. “Leaving?”

You yawned, shaking your finger at her. “No, no, no—” You rubbed your eye and laughed at her. “How about I lead you out of the door like a normal person?”

Gwen blushed, slowly closing the window. “Ah, well, I guess that’s an option.”

“I don’t want to wake anyone up, though, so just stay quiet, alright?” Gwen simply nodded and you wrapped your hand around her wrist, guiding her towards your bedroom door. You opened it as silently as you could, holding your breath, almost afraid that if you breathed, the entire house would be blown away. There’s only darkness, but you walked into it unbothered, while Gwen followed you like a loyal animal. Now that her sight was gone, she fully took in your touch as your soft hold tugged on her arm. You suddenly stopped and she mimicked you, patiently waiting for the sound of the unlocking of the door. However, all she picked up was the shuffling of your feet before you held in your breath. Then, she felt your other hand grab hers.

“Gwen?” You asked quietly, your voice so timid the darkness and the silence could’ve easily engulfed it. Without the view of your face, your skin against hers seemed too much, nearly unbearable.

“…Y-Yeah?”

“Can you see me?”

She shook her head, until she recalled that if she couldn’t see you, neither could you see her and the gesture was nothing more than useless. “Not really.”

“Okay. Cool.”

“Are you going to kill me?”

You giggled, and it didn’t knock over the walls, but it most definitely almost did her body. “No. Do you want me to?”

“Eh… no, thanks.”

“Ok, dork.” You chuckled, but it instantly came to an end. Your breathing wasn’t steady anymore— it trembled, sounded heavy. Then, out of nowhere: “If I kiss you, are you going to run away?”

Gwen just blinked. Despite the darkness, white dots exploded in her vision. “W-what?” Her voice almost failed her.

“Can I kiss you?”

In the room, there was nothing more. It was just your nervous breaths, your loud fridge, and Gwen’s heart. Her heart at full volume, pumping fast, doing its best to keep her awake, sane, on her feet. It was just you and her. Solely you, your gentle hands, and her. She blinked again.

“Okay.”

Your touch disappeared but then reappeared on her cheek, and absentmindedly, she placed her hand over yours. Your thumb, shaking, searched for her mouth, until it successfully brushed against her lips. Gwen gulped, her skin tingling as your breath fanned over it.

It was just you, her, and your lips. Your lips and her own.

You both remained with your eyes closed after your lips lost contact, although it didn’t make a difference in any way. But Gwen’s eyelids fluttered open, and a beam began to blossom.

“I’m glad you didn’t kill me.”

You kissed her a second time before she left.

It would be a criminal understatement to say that Gwen freaked out after she arrived back home. When she made the decision to start letting new friends into her life for good at the beginning of the year as another New Year’s resolution, she took a gigantic step. She then spoke to MJ, which was a leap in itself, and you joined the band. She stumbled, balanced herself on one foot at the edge for a while, but eventually, she managed to jump to the third step once she waited outside your school and apologized to you. She was convinced that would be it; the final and toughest stride, because if she managed to get past through all the previous ones, then it had to mean she was ready, right?

She was just finding out she was wrong, though.

The plan was to make a friend. A friend and nothing more nor nothing less. However, without being fully conscious of it, she continued to sprint up the stairs, past what her original intention was. And now, as she stared so far up at the next colossal step— at the feelings that kept growing for you, at your kiss, at you— she felt herself tipping backwards. There was no way she could climb that. She’d only slip and plummet down to her death.

Somehow, though, when you two agreed on meeting up at an arcade two days later, she decided she might as well go for it.

Gwen eyed the time for what she felt was the millionth time that day and her mask muffled the groan that followed. She had at least thirty minutes left of patrol and— she knew it was a dramatic statement— she didn’t know if she would be able to make it through them. I could call it a day earlier, she thought. It had been the most uneventful day lacking any major criminal activity, after all: all she did was help a little kid get back to his father and stop the usual theft, but other than that, she spent the day swinging around and even had the time to take a picture with a fan.

Her phone began to vibrate. You were calling her. “Hey… you…kid…” She cringed. How was she supposed to greet you from now on? Things weren’t the same.

She heard you snort at her hello. “Hi. Just wanted to tell you that I’m on my way.”

Gwen’s brows snapped together and she checked the time one more time. “Already? You’re early.”

“Yeah, I hope you don’t mind. I wanted to get started earlier so I don’t have to walk back home too late, but also so I can beat your ass and get more tickets than you.”

“Are you challenging me?”

“Not really, because I already know I’m gonna win.”

“Don’t sound so confident,” Gwen smiled and lied down on her back, staring up at the sky. “But if you do win, you better get me a prize.”

“Why would I get the loser a prize? I’m gonna get myself something cool and big and rub it in your face.”

Gwen scoffed but giggled nonetheless. All of a sudden, you went dead silent and she sat up, perking her ears for any further noise. “Y/N? Are you still there?”

It took you a few seconds to answer. “I just heard something weird.”

Gwen’s face drained of color and she jumped up, the tingling present in the back of her head. “Are you alone?”

“Yeah.”

“Get out of there. Now. Find somewhere that’s crowded.”

“Don’t be so paranoid. I bet it’s nothing. Could you imagine if I, like, got murdered, though?” You laughed nervously, trying to ease both of your nerves but Gwen’s sting in her head was only strengthening. “How tragic. Anyway—”

Your voice halted. A distant strangled cry left the speaker. “Y/N?!” Gwen called for your attention, frantic, her heart nearly breaking out of her chest. Something was not right.

“Hold on.”

It was all you said before you ended the call. She wasted no time nor hesitated— she ran to the end of the rooftop and jumped off, shooting a web. She swung as fast as she could, to the point where her aim nearly missed a building. Her thoughts were rushed, hectic, created the worst scenarios so vivid the bile began to make her way up her throat and she had to blink the dampness of her eyes away.

Hiding behind a dumpster nearing the end of an alleyway, you held your phone up to your ear, your legs aching from the speed with which you ran away. You could barely breathe. It was just a messy attempt of ragged breaths that despite how hard you tried to make them quiet, you simply couldn’t. “Please hurry up.”

“We’re trying to get there as fast as we can, miss. Are you hurt?”

“N-No, I’m fi—” A loud bang shook the dumpster next to you and you involuntarily yelped in fear. Your hand flew up to cover your mouth, but it was too late.

The woman and the man who chased you quickly found you, and the guy gripped your arm, yanking you out of your hiding spot. “What the fuck did you see?!” He spat in your face, holding you trapped against his body with his arm choking your neck. “Tell us or you’re fucking dead, hear me?!”

You sputtered and your fingernails scratched his arm, trying to get him off of you. When you realized you weren’t getting anywhere, your eyes flickered down to your hand. You blindly moved it up to his face, and once you grazed his eyelashes, you dug your fingers into his eye with all your strength.

He cried out and let go of you. Without thinking, you spun around and went in to punch whatever area of his face you hoped your hit landed on. But he recovered quickly and caught your fist in mid-air. All you could do was stare at him in horror. You didn’t quite process what was coming at you until he struck your eye.

“Bad move, kid.” The woman said and you glanced up at her with watery eyes, shielding the throbbing left side of your face. She took out her gun, pointed it at you, and your heart dropped.

You had lost all hope, until a ‘thwip!’ echoed in between the walls.

Out of nowhere, a web stuck to the barrel of the gun and, in the blink of an eye, snatched it from the woman’s grasp. Spider-Gwen came into your blurry vision before she spun the gun and smacked it onto the stranger’s head.

She stumbled backwards, grasping her head. Meanwhile, Gwen shot two webs at the wall behind the older girl. Holding onto the strings tightly, she pushed herself off the ground and knocked her down with a kick at her jaw. As she webbed her to the wall, her eyes suddenly widened. She swiftly ducked under, dodging a punch coming from the man behind her. Crouching down, she swiped her leg under him and sent him down.

After he fell on the ground, Gwen towered over him, her fists shaking with fury. As soon as he opened his eyes, she drew her arm back and smashed her knuckles into his nose, a painful crack resonating clear and loud.

She panted loudly, her chest rising and falling quickly as she trapped the now unconscious man’s hand to the gravel. She continued to observe him, her lip twitching, the sirens approaching in the background, until she heard a dry sob behind her. She looked back, only to see you backed up into the corner, hugging yourself.

Gwen ran up to you and kneeled down in front of you, holding your hand. “H-Hey, hey, you’re okay now.” She shushed you, her hand almost coming up to your cheek until she stopped herself. She wanted to stay with you and ask more questions, but two police cars parked themselves at the start of the alleyway. Her heart screamed at her not to. It cursed at her, begged for her feet not to move. However, she looked down at you one last moment and she shot a web up at the sky, zipping out of there.

She watched over you for an hour and a half as you talked to the police, and then when the paramedics attended you. She couldn’t stay long, though, since you furrowed your brows and then glanced up, your sight focusing on her. She instantly hid away, deciding that it’d be best if she just waited at your apartment.

Gwen tried telling herself that you were now fine. She saw you there, not missing a limb or anything, breathing and alive. But despite that, she couldn’t rest in peace. The image of you in the corner— your entire body shaking, your rough appearance, the tears that abandoned your eyes. Broken. It wouldn’t fuck off despite how many times she told it to.

She couldn’t help but recall Peter Parker’s face as she shakily held his corpse in her arms. And then she remembered why she had given up on letting anyone get close to her in the first place.

She had lost track of how long she’d been staring at your window. The window which she climbed through just three nights ago when she got locked out of her place. The night your warm smile greeted her. The night you first kissed her. The night that, perhaps if it hadn’t occurred— if she hadn’t forgotten to take her key with her, or she had left her window open, if she had gone to Em Jay’s, Glory’s, or even Betty’s place instead of yours— if she hadn’t been in the picture, you wouldn’t be in the situation that you were in now.

Because of her, you could’ve lost your life.

She’d texted you— as Gwen— asking if you were alright. It didn’t help that you straight up lied and said that you weren’t feeling alright so you decided to skip the night. At last, the light turned on in your room and she snapped out of a trance. It didn’t take long before she was trying to look through your window as discreetly as she could, her heart starting yet again with its running when she made out your silhouette. It moved around the room, until it stopped in front of the window. To her nightmare, your figure grew bigger as it came closer and closer, and opened the window. When she saw your face, her insides twisted.

You nearly screamed as soon as you saw Spider-Woman outside your window. You jumped back. It was the Spider-Woman. Unbelieving, you blinked at her— a bad idea, you then realized, considering your bruised eye.

“…Spider-Woman?”

“Uh, hi there.”

You touched your head, closing your eyes. Maybe the blow you received was worse than you thought. “Am I hallucinating?”

Gwen laughed weakly. “Nope. I’m very real right now.”

“Oh, okay.” You stared at her, disoriented, a million questions running through your brain. “Can I— can I ask what you are doing here?” You chose to ask first.

“I, uh, wanted to check up on you after the incident that happened earlier. I didn’t really have time to say anything.” It wasn’t fully a lie. You nodded slowly, tilting your head.

“How’d you know where I live?”

She couldn’t judge you for asking so many questions, but God, coming up with a lie on the spot was turning out to be problematic for her. “Uh… spider-sense?”

She tried.

You were yet more perplexed. “Spider what?”

“It’s a thing… I have…” She tapped her head. Again, it wasn’t a full-blown lie. Thankfully, you didn’t continue budging and instead hummed, nervously playing with the hem of your shirt. “You don’t have to answer— only if you want to talk about it, but…what happened?” She asked quietly, afraid of your reaction. Your body went rigid and you hesitated.

“I was going to meet up with a girl I like when I heard and then saw someone getting beaten to death.” Her white eye lenses grew big. “The two out of the three people doing it saw me and began to chase me. I tried to hide, but they eventually caught up to me.” You whispered.

Her fingers touched her mouth. “Oh God… I’m so… I’m so sorry. It’s my fault.”

You raised a brow. “…What do you mean? You saved me.”

“But I…” Gwen choked up and you furrowed your brows. She checked her watch, her body so weak she was surprised she was standing up. “I have to go. I’m sorry you had to go through that. You don’t deserve it.”

Before you could reply, she scurried away from your window and leaped off the fire escape. You watched as she swung away and eventually disappeared, feeling hazy and more puzzled than ever.

After she thought she had gotten far away enough, Gwen dropped down on a random rooftop, stumbling and falling to her knees. She felt trapped inside the mask. Almost as if it were stuck, permanently sewn to her skin, and if she tried to rip it off, she’d tear every last inch of skin off with it. She was the mask. She was Spider-Woman, and would forever be. It’s a responsibility she was doomed with for eternity unless she lost a fucking limb or her own life, and there’s nothing she could do about it. She couldn’t simply walk away, or dispose of all the criminals and villains, all the calamities and traps hurled at her which sent her defenseless body flying, hurting it, along with everyone else in the way. Everyone else like Peter. Peter and now you.

Her trembling hand ripped off her mask, her wet face nearly freezing as the wind attacked her skin. She took out her phone and searched for your contact, wiping her nose with her gloves. “Hey…” She typed, but stopped. Keep going, she urged herself. Just fucking write. Her thumb hung above the keyboard, her teary eyes fixed on the cursor blinking, taunting her.

“If you don’t do this, I’m going to hate you for the rest of my fucking life, Gwen.” She hissed at herself and hiccuped after. It didn’t matter if you hated her. It had to be done.

You inspected with a frown at your bruised eye in the mirror, your fingers ghosting over the swollen skin. But your grimace vanished and a faint grin took over your features when you received a message and read Gwen’s name. Rapidly, you opened the text, the overwhelming heaviness burning in your chest immediately flickering out.

It was only temporary, though.

Gwen read the message one last time, and her heart dropped down to her stomach the instant she saw you had opened it. Her own words repeated themselves in her head, slashing her skin with regret, mercilessly cutting her heart apart into unfixable bits.

“I’ve been thinking lately, and I think it’d be best if we’re just bandmates. You’re cool, so I hope that there are no hard feelings between us.”

She turned off her phone and closed her eyes, letting out a long breath. Somehow, she still hated herself.

You didn’t reply. Not a word, no phone call. Nothing. You explained to MJ and Glory what had happened and missed band practice for a week, saying you wanted your eye to heal as much as possible. You never told Gwen anything, though. The girls were in charge of doing it, and she had to act surprised and repress the regret that stabbed at her. Glory was shocked she wasn’t the first to find out and she questioned her about it, but Gwen solely shrugged and forced out a laugh when MJ joked that getting hurt was a curse running for bassists in the band.

The week had finally passed by and you came to Thursday rehearsal. You still greeted Glory with your secret handshake and MJ with the usual hug, as enthusiastic as always. But you ignored Gwen, and she didn’t fight against it. She had now made a promise to herself she couldn’t break.

You’d been practicing for an hour longer than usual, stuck on the same song since Em Jay would stop in the midst of it and insist that you started over again. Everyone knew who was— or, to be more correct— were the culprits, but no one dared to speak up. MJ broke away from the mic, rubbing her face in frustration, and raised her fist in the air to end the playing. “Okay, that sucked. Yet again. But it’s okay, let’s start over from the top.”

Glory let her fingers run down the keyboard, creating what you could say was the loveliest catastrophe of a melody, and sighed. “Em Jay, I think we should take a break—”

“No, no, no, we’ll get it right this time. Let’s just get it over with, okay?” No one agreed, but she continued nonetheless. “One, two, three!”

You began again. At first, no one was messing up, and Em Jay’s hope returned. However, a minute into the song, both the drums and the bass went their own ways and invented their own pace, and MJ turned around, her hands on her hips. “I didn’t want to say it, but you two really need to get your shit together.” She pointed at Gwen and then at you.

Gwen glanced at you. “Y/N’s a bit late.” You opened your mouth in disbelief and faced her.

“You’re going way too fucking fast!”

“No, that’s the right tempo.”

“No, it’s not.”

“Uh, yeah, it is.”

You narrowed your eyes. “Since when?”

“Since always!” Gwen exclaimed, sharing your scowl. “I’m the one who’s been here since the beginning, I think I know better.”

You couldn’t keep your mouth shut any longer.

“Shut the fuck up, you don’t know shit, okay?!” You yelled at her, taking an intimidating step closer to her. When MJ noticed Gwen gripping her drumsticks hard, she tried to intervene.

“Guys—”

“Leave it, Mary Jane.” Gwen warned her, her face stern, and MJ stared at her, expressionless.

“It’s Em Jay.”

“I don’t fucking care!”

“Yeah, you very clearly don’t, huh?” You said, laughing without humor and stepping even closer to Gwen. “You don’t know shit, and you don’t give a shit about anyone. It’s scary how you pretend to care about someone, but you don’t. You just fucking use them to keep yourself entertained for a while, until you get bored and then decide to leave.” You were now right in front of her, and you pointed an accusing finger into her face. Gwen tensed her jaw, fighting hard against the wetness of her eyes.

“That’s not true.”

“Oh, don’t fucking lie, Gwen.” You glared at her, shaking your head. “Don’t act like I don’t know you.”

You both shared eye contact for a few moments, and as Gwen began to blink hard, you scoffed and took a step back. “Whatever.” You muttered and turned away. “I think I’m done for the day.”

The room stayed dead silent while you packed your things up. Glory and Em Jay communicated with each other through their gazes, both equally as confused, but Gwen stuck her sight to the floor, her lip trembling as she curled her hand so tightly around the drumstick it snapped. You slammed the door shut, and Em Jay cleared her throat, biting her nails.

“What the fuck just happened?” MJ and Glory moved their stares to Gwen. “Gwen?”

Gwen rubbed her eye, sighing. “What?” She mumbled. MJ approached her slowly, frowning.

“You got something to tell us?”

Gwen shrugged. “Maybe.” Glory raised her brows. “I messed up long ago.”

“She seems too mad for it to have been long ago.” MJ laughed nervously, but Gwen wasn’t taking any of it anymore. She stood up and pulled her hair, groaning.

“God, Em Jay, this wouldn’t have happened if you had just fucking stopped trying so hard to make our friendship work. You don’t even care about me making friends, you just wanted to feel good about yourself for helping poor little me!” She shouted, nudging MJ with her drumsticks. Em Jay remained quiet, visibly hurt, and hugging herself.

“Gwen.” Glory repeated, her strict voice shocking both Gwen and MJ. “I think you hurt someone. And I think you owe them an apology.”

Gwen took a moment to breathe, and that was when she realized what she had done. She looked at MJ and grabbed her hand, squeezing it. “I’m sorry, Em Jay. I shouldn’t have lashed out at you. Thank you for trying. I should’ve tried harder as well.” She whispered sadly.

The corner of MJ’s mouth quirked upwards, and gripped her hand back. “Thanks. But I think you’ve got one more apology left.”

It felt like February all over again. Back when MJ called her to tell her the same thing, and one day later, Gwen waited outside your school. However, this time, she knew she had to apologize for real. For the correct reason.

Gwen let her drumsticks fall to the floor and she jumped over the cables. Speeding out of the door, she hoped she still had the chance to catch up to you and hadn’t lost you again. To her relief, you were at the end of the corridor, in front of the opening elevator doors when she called out your name. Your ears perked up, but your expression hardened when you saw her running up to you. “Y/N, listen—”

“Fuck off.” You laughed and moved to get into the elevator, but Gwen grabbed your arm and spun you around.

“No!” You stared at her, shocked. “N-No, I’m not going to… fuck off. Not this time.” Her eyes were big, begging.

You clutched her wrist and pulled her hand away from you. “I think it’s too little too late, Gwen. I’ve had enough.”

“I made a mistake.”

“Yeah, no shit.”

“Just let me talk, please.”

“No.” You shushed her, breathing heavily. “Let me talk, okay? Let me tell you about this little mistake of yours. Not only did you act as if you didn’t know me months ago and said we were never friends when I joined the band, but you acted as if you hadn’t already done this. You played with my feelings. Not once, but apparently fucking twice! And you didn’t even apologize!”

Your voice broke as you finally let out your repressed feelings, and you hated yourself for it. You despised yourself for still listening to her, for still caring about her.

You left Gwen speechless. “You wanted to talk, and now I’m giving you the chance. Say something.” You begged, prepared to be let down. But she looked up at you and let out a shaky sigh, sniffing.

“I don’t… I don’t know. I thought I liked you a year ago when we first met. I really did. The feelings were there, b-but…”

“If you never liked me, then why’d you come back?” You asked, broken-hearted. It hurt Gwen to see how much pain she had caused you, all because she was too much of a coward to own up to her feelings.

“That’s the thing.” She breathed out, shrugging. “Maybe I do.”

Your face softened. “What?”

“Don’t make me explain it, please.”

“You have to.”

“I can’t.”

You pinched the bridge of your nose, groaning. “For fuck’s sake.” Gwen shook her head and her shoulders began to shake.

“I can’t…”

“Why not—”

“Because it scares me!” She cried out, a sob finally breaking free from her system. You frowned.

“Why?”

“B-Because…” She wiped her nose, struggling to spit it out. “I really like you. I really do. And I don’t know if I’m ready for something like that. I can’t lose you.”

You gently grabbed her shoulder, while your other hand held her chin. “I’m not going to run away from you. I’m here.”

It wasn’t as simple as that. “I can’t.” She said again, even if she didn’t want to let go of your touch. You bit your lip.

“You can’t or you don’t want to?”

She didn’t know what to answer. Your hand slowly sneaked down to hold hers, and you looked at her for permission, your expectations not as high. But she clutched your hand hard. “You can do it, Gwen. You can’t spend the rest of your life like this. If you do, you will lose everyone.” You smiled sadly. You quieted down, pondering, but eventually, you breathed out and closed your eyes. “I really like you, too. I always did. And if I have to wait, it’s okay. Just… don’t disappear again, okay?”

Gwen analyzed your face. She wondered what you must have looked like that night back when you kissed her. And since she hadn’t done anything right before, she wondered whether she could try again.

In a second, she squeezed her eyes shut and pecked your lips. You were caught off guard as your fingers came up to touch your mouth. “Nah, you’re right. I think it’s about damn time.” She bit back her smile.

She took the big step.

#spider gwen x reader #spider gwen x you #gwen stacy x reader #gwen stacy x you #spider man: into the spider verse #sm:itsv #fem! reader #gwen stacy imagine #gwen stacy one shot #fan fiction #marvel

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thepinkcar · 5 years ago

Text

The TC Gift Exchange

words: 2K

note: I started this a year ago as a joke but then after some thought the idea grew on me. Enjoy my weird brain.

Timothée found himself in an abandoned storage lot, sitting inside his aunt’s Toyota Camry while he tried to push down the impulse to scream. The location had been the address on a note he had received prior. The handwriting was unsettlingly familiar and read:

Honorable Timothée,

It wold be an honor to have your company at the location inscribed on December 31st close to midnight. Please bring a gift to exchange during the celebration. We hope to see you there.

In retrospect, showing up at all had been a grave mistake. He probably wouldn’t have if he hadn’t desperately craved space from the New Years rager. The holiday season had been a well-desired break from the prying eyes of the public. Unfortunately it also meant an unwavering devotion to every friend and family gathering that could be stuffed into his schedule.

So here he was, risking a shoot out (or more likely, stabbing) on New Years Eve. Just as he had resolved to turn around and leave, there was a knock on his car window. A young man with long curly dark hair waved at him to get out and Timothée sighed, quickly complying. The man’s hair obscured his face, but Timothée felt a chill run down his spine once he spoke.

“You’re Timothée, right?” Timmy nodded slowly. “Is that French, ‘cause that’d be hella tight.”

Timothée froze, finally taking in the thick American accent. “Did you just say ‘hella tight’?” he whispered. The man ignored the question, instead turning towards him and offering a hand. Timothée shook it hesitantly as he tried to find the the gall to look up.

“‘Name’s Kyle. Nice to meet you, Tim-o-tay.” Timmy looked up so fast he was almost surprised not to feel any whiplash. When he saw his own face he screamed.

“What the fuck! What the fuck is happening? Is this some sick joke?” Timothée screeched. Kyle sighed apathetically, pulling a hand-rolled cigarette from his pocket and lighting it. Timothée continued to stare at him bug-eyed, half expecting him to glitch or evaporate from his vision when he woke up from this nightmare.

“Dude, chill. It’s not that weird,” Kyle mumbled, taking another hit. Timothée remained frozen and Kyle sighed again. “It’s too fucking cold for this shit. C’mon, we’re going inside and you better have your gift on you.”

Kyle took a step towards Timmy and Timmy flinched. Aggravated, Kyle grabbed Timmy’s forearm and pulled him inside one of the storage buildings.

The inside of the building was surprisingly cozy with the halls decorated vibrantly for Christmas. Soon they arrived in a room occupied by a Christmas tree, cookies, and an ominous circle of chairs.

“I have him, so we can get this over with and leave!”

“Apathy has and never will be a good look on you, Kyle,” a new voice said. Timothée turned to meet Elio (or him playing Elio) dressed in his winter time outfit. He tried to set aside the creepiness of Elio’s distressed half-smile that he remembered doing during his takes for the end credits. Elio pulled him into an embrace and Timothée suppressed the urge to wriggle.

“It’s a joy to meet you,” he said warmly before pulling back. “You’re more handsome than I anticipated.”

“How do you manage to be so narcissistic and so self-deprecating in the same sentence?” Kyle growled. Elio rolled his eyes before taking off his headphones and handing Kyle his walkman. Kyle bitterly put it on before continuing to listen to whatever was playing.

“What’s going on?” Timmy finally mustered, his throat burning from the screaming.

“We’re calling it the TC Gift Exchange,” Elio stated simply. “Every year, all of the characters you play come together at an undisclosed location and give each other gifts before departing back into our separate universes.”

Timothée stared at Elio in bewilderment before bursting into laughter. Elio watched him in confusion.

“Is everything alright?”

“Of course! It’s just that my dopplegangers have teamed up to make me feel insane. Excellent work, but I think this can stop now.”

“It’s true,” two voices say. Tim and Elio turn to face a Billy from Miss Stevens and Zac from One and Two. They both have a cookie in hand with same amount of bites taken. Tim gulps.

“Each year, the universe of the most successful part that year is where we host,” Billy explains. “Last year we partied in Crema…”

“The year before that we had to do it in the ass crack of no where,” Zac mutters.

“Hey! That spot was next to the road that I sang with Miss Stevens in the car on the way to that theatre conference. And you’re being out of character!”

“Well I’m sorry if I’ve been cranky considering my house was burned to bits!” Zac sneers.

“Boys! You’re literally the same persona set in two different storylines. Find your zen,” Elio says, immediately cringing. “I’m starting to sound like Kyle.”

Timothée shakes his head and moves to take a seat in the circle. The others soon follow suit taking their respective seats that are conveniently in chronological order. Timothée takes the opportunity to take in the others (he’s still deciding whether or not to refer to them as individuals) profiles. Elio sat two spaces to the right of him next Kyle and another doppelgänger that Timothée could only assume to be Daniel from Hot Summer Nights based solely off the fact that he wouldn’t stop rocking back and forth.

Billy and Zac buddy up next to one another beside Daniel, followed by an awkward looking Charlie Cooper and roughed up Jace. Timothée cringed at the familiar backwards cap sitting on Jace’s head next to him. He turned to Elio who had busked himself switching the tape out of his Walkman for Kyle. “This isn’t everyone is it?”

Elio raised a brow but didn’t break his focus. “What do you mean? Timothée bit his lip. He didn’t want to come off arrogant, ironically.

“There’s do roles missing from the circle.”

“Not everyone comes every year. Some are on probation,” Kyle said matter-of-factly. Timothée rolled his eyes. He forgot how much of a douche Kyle was meant to be.

“Some aren’t old enough to come, so we mail them their gifts,” Elio finished.

“But how do you send mail to a completely different universe?”

“You’re asking too many questions. Why is he asking so many questions?” Daniel grumbled, crazed eyes now trained on Timothée. Timothée felt his hands clam up more than they already had.

“Danny, be civil,” Elio warned, giving him a cautious pat on the back. Kyle rolled his eyes.

“We mail them the same way we’re all able to gather with you tonight. Dumbass.” Timmy nodded slowly, surveying the room of doppelgängers. The more he looked at them the less anxious he became about seeing them, which only made him more anxious about how quickly he was acclimating to his Stockholm of a situation.

“What about the ones on—“

“Probation? We try to keep the celebration to main characters only, since we’re not exactly rolling in it, y’know?” Billy quipped, jumping in before Elio had a chance. “Then some people…”

“Nic can’t come because technically he’s a fictionalized real person,” Elio cut in once again, shooting Billy a cool look.

“And he’s a drug addict,” Kyle muttered.

“Recovering addict.”

“What’s the difference? There’s only one guy missing but I don’t really care if he’s here or not. I’m not a big fan of monarchy or oligarchy or government institutions—“

“—or the government?” Timothée cut in knowingly. Kyle smiled.

“See he gets it.”

A crash of metal silences the room’s chatter. After a moment of silence another doppelgänger, this time with a stylish bowl cut appears. Timothée shivers at the memory of his lost locs. Kyle scowls while Elio beams. The others arrange their reactions neatly between the two margins.

“Hello everyone. I hope you can pardon my lateness. I struggled to drag this sorry lot to the TC Exchange,” Hal declared, ceremoniously dragging in Gatsby Welles from the he-who-shall-not-be-named movie about rain. It was Elio’s turn to grimace while Kyle smirked.

“No foul, your highness. Be seated here. As for him…”

“We can’t keep blacklisting him, Elio.”

“His film didn’t even hit theaters! Mine has an Oscar, Kyle. An Oscar!”

“You mean the award you campaign for?”

“I don’t mind.” The room turned to Timothée who had chosen to slump comfortably in his seat. He decided to sit up for the sake of his point. “I chose to play him. He still means a lot to me.”

“He’s just Kyle wearing a blazer!”

“He’s more complex than that, Elio.”

“No one if knows what he’s supposed to be like because it’s impossible to watch the movie!” Elio whined. Timothée moved to respond when a familiar click is heard from across the room. They froze to face Jace holding his signature hand gun.

“You better shut your ass, Elliot! Just because you like dick doesn’t mean you get to make all the rules. The man of the hour said he wants Gatsby to stay, so Gatsby’s staying!”

“While I try not to condone violence, unless my advisors misadvise me, I have to agree with as the kids might say Soulja Boy over there,” Hal added causing Elio to crumple further into his seat. Timothée frowned.

“I understand why you’re upset, Elio. He somehow managed to write a poetry collection during this whole exchange. But I still wanna keep him if we’re gonna be here.”

“I’m gonna name this last one after you, Elio,” Gatsby said softly. Elio gives a small smile.

“Okay.”

“Thank god,” Kyle sighed, “Can we get our gifts now? I don’t want to ring in the new decade with you lot.”

❄️❄️❄️

After an hour of mingling with his counterparts, the goodbyes tugged a bit on Timothée’s heart strings. He learned so much about everyone as far as the group dynamic went. He learned Kyle and Elio were actually quite close considering how much they seemed to rag on each other.

“You should have seen him the first year. An antisocial mess,” Elio reminisced fondly.

“That’s before a realized you have taste. I wouldn’t have shown up again if you hadn’t,” Kyle admitted begrudgingly.

Timothée also learned that while most of his characters felt similar, after two minutes of conversation the differences became glaring. Except for Billy and Zac. They were essentially the same person.

“I hope one day I’ll get a box of serotonin for Christmas,” Billy joked. Zac gasped.

“I asked for a bottle of Serotonin for my birthday!”

As Timothée walked back to his Aunt’s Camry with Hal, he couldn’t fight off the smile that kept creeping onto his face. Hal side-eyed him in solent satisfaction.

“Will we be seeing you again next year? I’m sure Elio wouldn’t mind providing free transit to space.”

“I’ll have to think about it,” Timothée chuckled. “This was…nice. Like really nice. It makes me kinda glad to be an actor. In an unnerving way.”

“I couldn’t have asked for better casting. Next year should be nice since Laurie will be able to come. I think him and Elio will get on nicely, then maybe…”

“Then maybe he’ll stop flirting with you? Still not sure how I feel about that,” Timothée mumbled with a shudder. The man really needs his Oliver.

“Don’t worry yourself about it. I only have one thing to request of you good sir.” Timothée raised a brow, trying not to fidget under Hal’s intense gaze. “Please, consider doing a comedic role in the future. We could use someone to shake things up around here.” The two of them smiled before bursting into fits of laughter.

“You’ve got it King!”

“No, you’re the king today. Drive safe and we’ll see you next time.” Hal walked back into the abandoned hall while Timothée sat down in his car and prepared to drive back. Maybe in the morning he’d wake up from a highly elaborate dream, but for now he could hang on to the feeling of gratitude and appreciation.

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70swonderpoisonstark · 5 years ago

Text

Poison ( III )

Villain’s are people too, are they not? (Y/N) is taking the “home grown” terror title a little too seriously. You’re really really bad, until you meet a certain super soldier who makes you consider a career change. It’s a lengthy process, but you’re willing if it’s for the right reasons. Maybe you’re not so bad after all?

//basically poison ivy and a little bit of bane but with marvel characters?? I’d be original but I love her and them so much so sorry. also some changes, idk I’m making them my own but completely based of the DC characters SNS. Nickname Ivy, real name, yours duh!//

***this is my first attempt at fanfic so any feedback is welcome! I love all these characters dearly so, here goes nothing! Hope you enjoy***

A/N: Violence, language, crime. I’ll update these as the chapters come out

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The charity auction was the perfect place to snag Green. They knew you frequented places of high wealth, and always took a chance when it came to diamonds. After another couple months of stake-outs, recon, and blackouts from various team members, they'd finally discovered a pattern.

"You've got to hand it to this girl, she sure knows how to stay under the radar. I bet everyone who's ever came into contact with her just see's a pretty girl in a known hang-out for wealthy men and just written her off. Brilliant, if I'm allowed to say that about a villian." Tony made multiple points. Green, as you were coded, were so stealthy, that until further investigation, they never realized you had been at this for years. Stealing from the wealthy for whatever reason you chose, causing entire buildings to erupt into chaos, you were good, really good. And the man you always had with you had no record, absolutely nothing. No address, occupation, they could only pull up a name and a birth month and that was it. Viktor Alexeev, April. The only way they could link him to any of the crimes at all was through his ring. It had a giant emerald in the middle, with a black snake curled around it, almost like a family crest, but different.

They walked in to the grand ballroom in pairs, Nat and Steve, Tony and Wanda, Bruce and Thor, and Bucky all by himself coming in last. They scattered around the room, sitting, standing, examining vantage points, and checking for alternate routes of escaping if the entire place went to shit.

"Everybody in position?" Natasha said over the coms. Five checks and yes's later, they were ready to mix and mingle, and wait for the main event to start.

Once everybody had a couple drinks in them, and had finally began to settle down, a mic BOOMED throughout the room.

"Ladies and gentleman, tonight's host, Andante Forester!" A gorgeous blonde in a very tight pink cocktail dress introduced a tall, dark skinned man in a white suit. He took long, slow strides up to the mic, being sure to wave and acknowledge multiple people in the ground on his way. He took the mic, raising it to his towering height, and spoke.

"Thank you Mindy. Good evening everybody, as you now know I'm Andante and I've decided to gather you all here to raise money for a very charitable cause. I have always had a need to serve others, my whole life since I came over from Egypt has been about ensuring my family's safety and stability. It wasn't until I realized that the same dedication to them, was also involved with my schooling that I realized I was so much more than just a caretaker. My journey has been long, and vast, and trying, but now I'm here, talking to all of you, harnessing your attention and persuading you to donate to a movement that has our best future in mind. I'm simply a man, with the means to do something for the world, and the will to see it through. So tonight, I've gathered a few lovely ladies, and a very sizable jeweled necklace deep from within the vaults of cartier, for you to take out. The man, or woman, who places the highest bid on each of our willing participants will be allowed to take our lovely ladies on a date to a public location, escorted by my own personal security of course, with this dazzling piece of jewelry hanging from her neck." And on cue, the necklace was wheeled in by three armed guards. It was massive, Andante explained it was 70 carats of the highest quality diamonds and sapphires ever crafted. Each girl was named after a gemstone, all dressed accordingly. There was Ruby, Jade, Opal, Onyx, Amber, Pearl, and Sapphire.

"Any of the seven girls on stage look like our target?" Facial recognition was good, but with the talents of this particular pair, they could never rely on that alone.

"Negative, Natasha. Our girls a (your race) red-head, these girls are either blonde, brunette, asian, white, african, or middle eastern, either one or the other, never our combo." Steve spoke.

"Any one of them can be my target. The kinky curls on Sapphire, with the bright blue dress, dark skin, and that confident smile? If she's not already a model, I'll figure out a way to make her one." Tony utters longingly into his radio.

"According to facial recognition Tony, she's a Harvard grad that owns and runs one of the most successful law firms in New York. If only you weren't already in love, huh?" Natasha and her facial recognition, she always new everything about everybody she sees, the constant paranoia probably helps too.

"Back on topic ladies and gentleman. I've got suspicious activity on the edge of the crowd, men and women alike are in a dream like state, still conscious, just... swaying." The bidding was still going like crazy, every girl had at least $100,000 bid on them, but Bucky was right, the crowd was slowly becoming dazed and disoriented, no chaos this time, everybody just seemed... high.

"She's here, keep your eyes peeled, we can't lose her this time or Fury will...." Natasha trailed off for a moment before she continued. Her tone this time much more serene, and her speech slow. "Guys, the jewels from here are just so, sparkly. They look so clean.. I want pretty necklace.."

"Natasha? Natasha? Nat. I need you to snap out of it, we need to focus and... you're right Natty, gem sparkle, lots of gems pretty together." Steve and Nat were dosed, completely taken in by the calm wave that broke over the two of them. It wasn't long before it hit the others. Soon every member of the team was high as a kite, talking about clean gems and bright lights, pretty dresses, anything and everything that DIDN'T pertain to the mission.

Bucky was slightly more resistant to whatever it was making them act like fools. He watched as the same dazzling red head came in, charmed everyone on stage, blew rose colored dust from the palm of her hand and waltz off the stage with a ten million dollar necklace hanging around her neck. As you passed by Bucky, he attempted to reach out and grab your arm, only to realize he was succumbing to your love inducing air additive. You paused briefly before looking him up and down, recognition fluttering in your eyes as you walked to stand in front of the super soldier you had previously met.

"Hiya there, sugar. I see you remember me. Don't worry, I remember you too. Thanks for the necklace." You said before presenting your jeweled chest, "I really do think it compliments my eyes, whatdaya think?" you winked and posed, pulling the slit in your dress to the side, exposing your beautiful thick legs.

"I think they..."Bucky tried hard to fight the high as he spoke. "Don't match... your.. outfit." He smiled weakly, hoping his joke came across that way and he wasn't about to get knocked out again on one of these missions. He had became unconscious more on these missions than anybody else on the team, barely remembering anything at all, except for what came back to him in dreams. To Bucky's surprise you giggled at his little joke and placed yourself closer to him.

"Bucky, baby, I wish you did remember all the times we've met. I've grown to be quiet fond of our little chats." You raised your opposite hand and blew something directly into his face. "If you don't hurt me, I'll let you remember this time." You placed your back up against Bucky's chest and wrapped his metal arm across her throat. "You wouldn't hurt me, would you?" You looked up at Bucky with your sad (Y/E/C) eyes and he shook his head no. He had hurt many people in his life, and you just couldn't be one of them. The effects of whatever made him dreamy slowly wore off, and he finally felt the cold your body seemed to radiate.

"If you're noticing the temperature difference, you've said it reminds you of Christmas morning in Brooklyn when you were younger. 1936, younger I think." Bucky memorized every feature of your face, it was soft, your nose was short, with a crooked bridge, big rosy cheeks, and, freckles? Definitely freckles underneath the makeup you were wearing. Your eyes shined like the moon as you glanced up at him. You appeared so gentle, how did you ever become SHIELD's most wanted. You removed yourself from under Bucky's arm and allowed him to regain his senses.

"I like you, Bucky. You never seem to quit, but every time I give you the upper hand you never take it." Your seductive demeanor paused as you spoke, Bucky had a nagging feeling that this was actual honesty coming from you. He felt things too, but you had your ways of making him feel certain ways, so it probably was just another affect. "If you're wondering if you're still under my spell, you're not." Well there goes that idea. "There's something weird about you. I don't like it, not one bit." You circled him slowly, trailing your perfectly manicured finger across his torso. "I know you still see me as the bad guy and all the other cliches; however, if you want to arrest me, good luck, but, if you're willing to talk to your super friends, I've left a list of the REAL charities in this area who have received sizable donations every time I've 'made a stop' in your jacket pocket." A soft grin manifested over your cherry red lips. "I know you won't remember all of this, but I'm sure y'all are smart enough to figure it out." You kissed him on his cheek, leaving a faint lipstick mark in its place, blew a low dose of plant hormone in his face and spoke one last time. "Everybody's effects will wear off in about fifteen minutes, yours won't, but they'll know what to do with you. And I go by Ivy, by the way. Your friends can stop calling me green." You adjusted yourself, and spoke not to him, but to your henchman. "Viktor darling, it's time for our grand exit." A large blast was then heard on the east wall, crumbling a hole large enough for the hulk to walk through, you turned to look at Bucky one last time, and then slipped away into the darkness of the night. Leaving Bucky unconscious, yet again.

"I'm starting to worry about the long term effects of him being unconscious this often. We have no idea what he's being dosed with or what it's doing to him."

"Well Cap, I'd say it's knocking him out entirely, wouldn't you?" Bucky was slowly coming too, the arguing voices of Tony and Steve rarely stopped after these missions.

"Weren't you in charge of making sure things like this stopped happening? She's taking us out at the same time and stealing millions of dollars right in front of our faces and you can't seem to do a damn thing about it Tony!"

"Right, because tossing that metal frisbee at her in your drunken state was a much better contribution. Thank you for your service, you truly are a patriot Steven." Bucky could no longer tell if his head hurt due to his possible concussion, or Steve and Tony bickering like old maids.

"Could you two can it? What's a guy gotta do around here to get some peace and quiet?" Bucky groaned as he sat up. The whole team crowded him in about .5 seconds, basically suffocating him again with the same questions they always asked after he fell. Only this time, he actually remembered what happened.

"Yes." The room went silent, all eyes were bulging and staring directly at Bucky, gazes unwandering, he could feel the tension between everybody. He knew they all thought he'd caught a lead, that Green, Ivy, had made a mistake, but he didn't have a lead, he just had a name, and an uncomfortable feeling in his stomach.

"Yes what? You, remember? Like the whole everything?" Memory loss was common after interacting with Ivy, the whole team could barely remember bits and pieces of all their interactions. If it weren't for security cameras and Tony and Rhodey's body cams, they'd know absolutely nothing about who and what they were dealing with.

"Yes all of it, she let me remember, made sure I did, even gave me a name." Stunned, every single person in the room had shock written on their foreheads. She had always been very discreet, moved in the shadows but always did the dirty work. She was cunning, and ambitious, they'd never gotten more than an appearance, and even that was spotty. Now they had a name, something was going on and they all knew it. She wasn't an ordinary villain, this was something unique. Bucky explained the entire scene, never once interrupted. As he finished, he saw the wheels turning, everybody had questions, nobody understood, why had she basically given up? And why to Bucky?

"So she said she likes you, gave you her name, and actually put herself in a chokehold with your arm?" Bucky nodded yes, not really believing it himself.

"Where's the list?"

"The what?"

"You said that she slipped a list of places in your pocket, where is it?"

"I'd assume in my pocket since I've been unconscious till now, Steve." Bucky rifled through his pockets, starting with the lower ones, he checked his jacket pockets and nothing. It was until he checked the breast pocket of his jacket behind his handkerchief that he found the list. It was three pages long, and had the names of over a dozen charities, families, and street corners.

"I'd say that's a lead there Barnes." and it was. Just, not how they imagined.

// How’s it doing so far?? I’m really liking how it’s all going so far! P.S. if you guys want to throw random vocab words at me I’ll try and find a way to incorporate them and tag you! Thanks for reading! May Odin bless you! //

#bucky x reader #steve x reader #you're a bad bitch #bucky barnes #steve rogers #captain america #winter soldier #soldat #Poison Ivy #avengers fanfic #avengers

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