Having faced the tragedy of losing both parents at a tender age, your childhood was predominantly spent in an orphanage. The journey was fraught with challenges, as potential adoptive parents were hesitant to welcome a mutant child into their homes...
Exhaustion hung heavily on Y/n, Wanda, and Pietro, their patience frayed to its limits. The past half-hour had been a relentless whirlwind of chaos: defusing bombs, rescuing hostages, and incapacitating rampaging inmates from the Raft. Each task was punctuated by Screwball's incessant, grating commentary, which grated on their nerves like nails on a chalkboard.
As Y/n ensnared the last of the inmates with his web, flinging him forcefully against a wall, Screwball's voice screeched in his ear once more, her tone dripping with gleeful triumph.
"We did it! 50 million followers! The party starts now, see you there! Oh, sorry web-head, you're not invited. Subscribers only. But I still love you. Mwah!" she announced, her voice cutting off abruptly as the line went dead.
Behind Y/n, Pietro groaned audibly, his frustration palpable. "Jesus, I don't know how you can stand that woman. Wanda's been threatening to toss her off a roof the next time she sees her, especially after that paint bomb incident."
He was referring to an earlier skirmish involving bomb-laden drones. In a particularly infuriating twist, one of the drones had exploded near Wanda, but instead of a deadly blast, it had showered her in a torrent of green and pink paint. The indignity of the situation had only fueled her wrath.
Y/n's voice held a tinge of frustration as he spoke. "Yeah, I thought we were done with her antics after the last arrest." He glanced over at the hostage they had just rescued, noting her pained expression as she cradled her ankle.
Approaching her, Y/n crouched down for a closer examination. The injury was evident: her ankle was swollen, the skin around it turning an ominous shade of purple, a clear indication of severe bruising, if not something more serious.
"How bad does it hurt?" he inquired, his tone softening with concern.
The girl managed a weak chuckle, despite her obvious discomfort. "Pretty bad, I'd say. Walking's definitely off the table for now."
"I'll get you to the nearest hospital," Y/n assured her, his words firm with the resolve to help.
As he spoke, his eyes took in her appearance more fully. She had fair skin that contrasted starkly with her short, silky black hair. Her red-rimmed glasses framed her face neatly, adding a distinct character to her features.
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"Here, hop on," Y/n offered, crouching slightly to provide a more comfortable position for a piggyback ride.
The woman hesitated for a moment before complying, an odd sense of comfort settling over her as she adjusted herself on Y/n's back.
From a distance, Wanda watched the scene with a scrutinizing gaze, her eyes locked on the pair as Y/n carefully stood up with the woman on his back. Pietro, materializing beside her with his characteristic speed, caught the direction of her stare.
"Why are you staring at them so intently?" he asked, a teasing edge to his voice. "Don't tell me you're jealous."
"Absolutely not," Wanda retorted quickly, her expression one of slight annoyance. "It's just... why are we even considering bringing him to the mansion? He's antagonistic, snarky, and rude," she listed off, her tone dismissive.
