Pools of love (Gwenpool x male reader)

Romanticists

Y/n: I think we're in Nueva York.

Gwen: Y/n, I don't mean to be rude; but how could you possibly know-

Y/n grabs her head and moves it so she can see a large holographic sigh that reads: "You are entering Nueva York. The date is 9/9/99".

Gwen: That's a bit of an arbitrary date.

Y/n: The ninth of September 1999.

Gwen: Not quite.

Y/n: What do you mean?

Gwen: The ninth of September, 2099.

Y/n's eyes widen.

Y/n: Are you serious?

Gwen: I mean, look around. No wildlife, flying cars...

Y/n: Oh my God... first I get to go to space, then the future?

Gwen: Why do the Avengers always send us to places you love and I hate?

Y/n: What's wrong with the future?

Gwen: All the heroes suck here and they're all derivative. No new heroes, only 2099 versions of old heroes.

Y/n: Seriously?

Gwen: Yep.

They stand on the outskirts of the city for a while.

Y/n: Wanna explore?

Gwen: Uhh, yeah!

Gwen activates montage mode as they discover all the joys of the future. They ride a flying taxi, run away from the driver once he discovers they have no money, stare at the holo-gardens and observe futuristic fashion.

Y/n: These look terrible.

Gwen: Totally.

A stranger from the street comes up to them, the only person seemingly in the city to dress like them.

Stranger: Hey! Fellow romanticists!

Y/n: What?

Stranger: Romanticists. People who appreciate the past more than the future.

Y/n: Is that what that word means?

Gwen: I think the definition changed over time.

Stranger: Anyway, love your outfits!

He struts off.

Y/n: I hate it here.

Gwen laughs. Cut to the two entering an alley, taking a rest.

Y/n: You've still got the penguin bag right?

Gwen: Yeah, why?

Y/n: We may need it.

Gwen: What do you mean?

Y/n: The Avengers thought they were doing us a kindness, sending us somewhere fun. But we haven't got anywhere to live, we haven't got any legal documents. It's a death sentence.

Gwen frowns, she puts her hand on his cheek.

Gwen: I'm gonna keep you safe Y/n, that's a promise.

A thud behind them diverts their attention from each other. It's a slender man in a dark blue costume with red accents, especially around the eyes, although there were no discernible eye holes.

Gwen: Ugh, it's one of the lame future heroes I was talking about.

Spider-Man 2099: Mr. L/n, Ms. Poole.

Y/n: How do you know who we are?

Spider-Man 2099: I read about you. And I talked to Doctor Strange recently.