Marvel Women Oneshots

Something Sweet *WM*

Yesterday at the ungodly hour of six in the morning you'd heard incessant knocking on your door, opening it up to see the red masked spider boy dangling upside down before you. Muttering a quick, "Miss Y/L/N! Get to the high school," before he was swinging off to continue in his evacuations, and you moved around to collect your most important things; the box labeled 'in case of another disaster', and your baby boy—Mr. (Murder) Mittens.

Another attack on New York, it was almost as if it was becoming a biannual event at this point...

But just like every single time before 'Earth's Mightiest Hero's', the Avengers, swoop in to handle the bad guys; destroying half of the city in the process, leaving mostly ash and rubble behind in their wake, and the many an average Joe heartbroken upon learning they had to rebuild—again.

The Avengers normally would remain scarce during this time of the aftermaths effects, leaving behind an unending set of emergency funds for all those in need of assistance to rid themselves of their guilty consciences, and releasing the perfectly crafted PR statement to focus on the victory over the carnage of it all.

Fortunately for you money has never been much of a problem, your late parents being rather prominent CEO's as you were aging. They were beyond loaded, and after graduating high school they wanted to help you on your journey to fulfilling your lifelong dreams of owning your very own bakery. Putting you through the finest of culinary school's, and after the two years it took for you to obtain your Pastry Chef certification they gifted you with a shop of your own; they were filthy rich, and you were their pride and joy so really it made sense—they'd have given you the world if possible, and lord knows that they had tried.

You went to public schools over private, played outside with the neighborhood kids until the lights came on, and spent your days reading in your room, and learned how to play the keys from the internet instead of with a trainer. Throughout your childhood your dad would spend every available weekend indulging your genuine interest in the kitchen, and once you got to your teens your mom taught you how to manage a checkbook all in preparation for your future business endeavors.

The capitalistic world never fully consumed them like it did their colleagues, sure they had the luxury cars, and the villa in Prague, but they never overindulged in anything, and you were grateful for it. Being self made humbled them, and in turn kept you much the same. They'd always been your compass, guiding you through any struggle that came your way, and instilling a strong set of morals in you that were meant to last a lifetime.

Then, after their untimely death back in that first tragic attack in 2012 they literally left you with both everything, and nothing all at once. They had been trapped on the top floor of their office's skyscraper, fighting for their life while you were happily sipping on endless cocktails under the West coast sun. Nothing had felt real to you when you had returned to the city from California where you'd been helping an aunt. The cracked, and soot covered three foot neon pink cupcake lying at your feet, along with the refreshing list of names of all those lost made it impossible to ignore though.

•~~~~~~~~•-•~~~~~~~~•-•~~~~~~~~•

You were absolutely gutted, unable to fathom going on without them at the ripe age of twenty one, let alone having to plan out their funeral. Everything about the funeral felt far too stuffy, unrecognizable, snooty people in posh suits giving you their well wishes; their loud sniffles and crumpled tissues nothing short of cringeworthy.

The whole endeavor felt like one of the boring meetings they'd always complain to you about. Their words fell on deaf ears though, and you avoided them as best you could by hiding in a corner. It wasn't until a flash of red disguised beneath a grey hood had caught your eye that the event became a bit more interesting, you followed the hooded figure outside, and she was quick to pull you into an alleyway once your chase down wasn't appearing to relent. Nimble fingers pulled the hood down, and a fresh wave of anger rolled through you when her identity was revealed.