++ 𝐖𝐑𝐈𝐎𝐓𝐇𝐄𝐒𝐋𝐄𝐘
[summary] wrio’s spouse winds up in prison. special treatment ensues.
[cws] gender neutral reader. fluff.
“What you did was incredibly stupid.”
“I’d like to think it was very brave, actually.” You quip back, lips pursed as you turn up your chin. “You should be proud of me, really.”
“I should be proud that you got yourself thrown in prison?” You don’t have to look up to know that Wriothesley is sporting an incredulous expression. “Did they knock your head around a bit before bringing you down here?”
“You’re acting like I murdered someone.” You finally meet his gaze, and you resist the urge to sink down into your seat at the clear disapproval in his eyes. “All I did was—”
“Break into the Opera Epiclese and destroy government property.”
“That’s such a trumped-up charge!” You huff and roughly cross your arms over your chest, eyes narrowing as you think back on the charges that had been slapped down onto you by that damned archon. “You trip in the dark and accidentally fall into the oratrice and all of a sudden you’re a criminal. Hmph!”
“Yeah, exactly. It also doesn’t help that you broke in—”
“—I left my bracelet in there after the trial! Was I just supposed to leave it behind and potentially lose it forever? The condition of the lost and found in that place is downright terrible—the guards pocket all the good stuff.”
“You could have bought another one.”
“Not like this one.” You look down to the gray bracelet encircling your wrist, and a warmth spreads in your chest as you gently twist it around, finger rubbing over the messily written engraving on the inside of it. “This was a gift.”
“Hardly.” He sighs, and your eyes flick up to watch as he runs his hands through his already messy hair. “It’s just scrap metal I bent up and welded because I couldn’t buy you proper jewelry back when I was a prisoner.” It’s his turn to look at the bracelet.
“You were so creative back then.” You smile a bit wider. “I remember you used to have something new made every time I came to visit you. What was that one thing you made? The one that we painted together?”
“The ballerina music box.” He groaned, looking a bit embarrassed, and you snapped your fingers.
“The ballerina music box!” The ballerina was a bit oddly shaped, and the box had sharp corners on one side and rounded on the other, and the song the box played was distorted and sounded more creepy than relaxing due to some disfigured cogs, but you loved it nonetheless, and had even sobbed in thanks when he had first presented the gift to you. “I love that little box.”
“It looks like a child made it.”
“A child in the throes of eleazar, yes,” you nod, and his mouth opens a bit in surprise before he huffs out a laugh. “But I still love it… because you made it.” You give him a sweet smile, and you can see him soften up before your very own eyes; broad shoulders losing that rigidness, lids lowering, crease between his dark, thick brows disappearing.
“You’re tryin’ to butter me up.”
“Mhm,” you nod. “Is it working?”
“Not at all, jailbird.” He gives you a smile of his own, and despite the clear sarcasm in it, you can’t help the little flutter your heart does at the sight. “No special treatment for you.” So he says, yet he had placed a cup of tea down for you the moment you were brought to his office, and had even tried to inconspicuously nudge the basket of cookies in your direction, pretending not to notice when you reached for one. “Spouse or not.”
“What a mean man.” You slouch down in your seat. “I treasure the gifts that my lovely, amazing, strong, handsome, and so so so incredibly smart husband gives me and what do I get in return? A criminal record and unfair treatment! I’m suing the entire nation the moment I’m free!”
“Yeah, yeah,” he waves his hand in the air as if fanning away the conversation, and now it’s your turn to huff. “For the few days that you’re here, you’ll be working directly with me in exchange for coupons.” He takes a slow sip of his tea, adams apple bobbing as he swallows, before gently setting the cup back down onto its small plate. “I’ll make your first job real easy to get you in the swing of things.”
“How kind of you.”
He just barely contains an amused smile. “Very. Now…” He shifts in his seat. “Give me a kiss.”
“I’m married, Your Grace.”
“I’m sure your husband won’t mind. Kiss. Now.” He taps a finger against his lips, and after a moment you stand up and round his desk, hands finding his shoulders as you bend at the waist so your noses brush.
“My husband is a very good fighter, by the way. When he finds out you twisted his spouses’s arm like this, he’ll pummel you.”
“I can handle him.” A hand snags you by the waist, forcing you down into his lap, and you only have time to let out a quiet yelp before Wriothesley’s lips are on yours. The kiss is slow, sensual, and it brings a warmth to your cheeks and covers you with a bashful cloak when he pulls back to let his eyes roam over your face. “I’ve gotta say… your husband is a real lucky guy to snatch up someone as cute as you.”
“Hmph. Seems like you’re trying to butter me up now.”
“Is it working?” He presses his face into your neck, his lips pulling into a smile against your skin, and you have to fight back one of your own.
“Not at all, jailbird.”
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Hera stood, waiting for her turn at last. The Queen of the Greek Pantheon traced the lines of neon green, its light reflecting against her true form in a soothing way. She’s no stranger to patience, to waiting. But there were little of those that had the gall to make her wait, and even smaller of that number that she would tolerate such behavior. Regardless, this was the one being she could not afford to offend and so, she waits. Her many forms, her divine self, perceived the room and compared it to her own halls of residence.
Olympus was much more intricate, carved of noble marble and inlaid with countless of priceless metals and gems and divinity. Twelve seats of power atop an engineering wonder, halls adorned with the brightest of the original flames, an hearth that was roaring at Hesta’s skillful hands.
In comparison, this throne room had been changed much since she was last here. Gone were the spikes of terror and screams of the damned. Now… it looked like the most bare throne room she’d ever bore witness to.
And yet, as she waited for the Boy King, Hera could feel the subtle thrum of impossible power. The new king did not flare his will and might like the previous tyrant, and for that, Hera approved. She has had quite enough of living with and under tyrants who cared only for themselves… and their bed achievements whilst failing spectacularly in their marital roles. Zeus was not a good life partner and Hera regretted ever saying yes to him many times in her immortal life. And yet… she loved him still.
The doors opened, and a small figure floated in, flanked by the previous King’s Knight. Perhaps that is what makes this Boy King so dangerous, Hera thought as she dipped into a bow, because he can turn the loyalest to his side.
“Your Majesty,” she greeted, in ghost speak.
“Heya, Hera!” The Boy King greeted her back, before waving the Knight away. Hera marveled, a bit, at the sheer confidence he had to dismiss his knight in her presence. Even the last king kept the knights around to ensure his power was always in display, always unchallengeable. The Boy King could destroy her with a snap of a finger and he knows it. He knows that she knows it.
“What did you need?” The Boy King asked, grin still on place as he floated to her instead of seating himself on his throne. Hera masked the bit of confusion she felt in pursuit of her goal.
“I have come here to ask of you a favor,” she began. “I am aware that… you are fond of this, the earth in which I reside in?”
Hera carefully picked her word. Everybody knows that the new King Phantom had laid claim to not only the Infinite Realms as is normal of his station, but an entire Earth as his haunt. He had the power to do so, she could finally see, now that she was standing before him. It would not do for Hera to get her strings cut because she claimed what is his.
“Sure. Why?” The Boy King tilted his head, narrowing that predator green upon her true form.
“Do you know of the Justice League, my lord?”
“Phantom’s fine,” he waved a hand. “And yeah, sure do! Why?”
Hera tilted her many forms in acknowledgement of the command. She bowed.
“My daughter, of a sort, is Diana Prince. Wonder Woman. She is… in grave danger. We can not exert our influence over a land that does not have our history. I can not interfere and aid her.”
“Oh, you want me to help her?” His tone was exasperated, and Hera spoke even more carefully in fear of offending him.
“Yes, if it pleases you. And it would be most gracious of you should Your Majesty have time to watch over her. I fear the danger will not leave her so quickly.”
There was a brief period of silence before King Phantom sighed. “And if it does not please me to do so?”
Hera looked up and locked gazes with evaluating green. “Then I am afraid I will be breaking a fair bit of cosmic law, King Phantom.”
He laughed. “Okay, yeah, I’ll check up on Wonder Woman.”
Hera blinked her many eyes, peacock feathers spreading in shock at how easily he allowed her favors. She did not even have to beg.
King Phantom turned to leave before pausing. “Hera, if you need help, just ask. Preferably without beating around the bushes next time. Also, Pandora misses you. You might want to hang around for tea later.”
Hera regarded him with the might of her divinity, which was but hardly a spec of his own kindness. The last one had not had her respect. Fear, yes. But never respect But this one…
“Yes, my King.”
“It’s just Phantom.” He shot back as he left, the Knight returning to his side once more.
Hera transformed into a more mortal form. She had not seen Pandora in a long time, the young woman had made quite an impression on her. Perhaps her old friend could be convinced in helping her punch Zeus and ruin her beloved husband’s day. Hera hummed, the green that used to flicker acidly against her divine form now only soothed. A reflection of its owner.
King Phantom is worthy of her regard.
——
Holy shit, a goddess asked him to check on the Justice League! She was super weird about it and talked in a really old way of speaking, but Danny hadn’t had anything to do for the past few days while entering the zone for his annual check up.
Danny waved away Fright Knight and dived into the portal that would take him directly to the Justice League and Diana!
He floated down from the portal, blinking at group of disheveled and injured superheroes surrounded by a group of demons. Belial?
“King Phantom.” Belial rumbled. Danny waved, not noticing the standstill his presence forced.
“Shite.” The British man cursed, drawing on his magic once more.
“King Phantom?” Diana Prince, Wonder Woman, said quizzically.
“Who?” Batman, Batman! That’s actually Batman, rumbled.
“High King of the Infinite Realms. We’re buggered if he decides to help Belial.”
“Wait, like the god of gods, that King Phantom?” Captain Marvel asked. Ancients, why are all of them electrical based? Danny hates electricity.
Danny floated closer to them, grinning in a friendly way before frowning as they tensed up.
“King Phantom. May I ask why you have graced us with your presence, my King?”
“Hey, Wonder Woman! Your mom asked me to babysit you!” He grinned, sharp and mischievous.
“What…?” The Flash asked, zipping to their side. “Her mom? Queen Hippolyta?”
“No, Hera,” Danny said, and watched Wonder Woman straighten at his words.
“The Goddess Hera.”
“Yep!” Danny rocked back on his suddenly formed legs instead of the whisp of a tail he usually kept in the Zone. He was also still floating. Danny sent a wave of ice and froze the rest of the demons in one fell swoop.
“The rest of you can take care of clean up, yes? Diana has to get some snacks, dinner, and then go to bed.” He pushed gently at Diana’s shoulders, nudging her towards the plane. She went willingly, respectful but amused.
——
Bruce, intellectually knowing that’s a king but only seeing a superhero teenager: *fills out mental adoption paperwork*
——
Hera, a goddess, terrified of misspeaking and dying as a result: he’s so strong even though he’s young omg powerful and could end my immortal existence
Danny, an unserious king: golly gee why is she speaking like a Shakespeare novel
——
Hera, thinking Danny’s gonna be dignified: pls watch over my daughter
Danny, who has a clone he sees as a daughter and therefore has no issues babysitting a grown woman: lol snacks, dinner, bedtime
Diana:… usually I’m on the other spectrum of this but it’s from a higher up so… okay?
——
Danny, terrifying gods and ancients: they’re my friends! The power of friendship!
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Torn (18+)
Pairing: Natasha Romanoff x f!reader, Wanda Maximoff x f!reader
Warnings: set during AoA, kryptonian!reader, love triangle, established Natasha x reader - fwb situation, somewhat toxic!Natasha, smut, violence, jealousy
Summary: after your home planet is destroyed, you find a new home in Asgard, but when your brother brings you along to Earth, you find more trouble than you expected.
Masterlist
"F-fuck, Y/n. Right there… Yes." The woman below you pants in your ear, nails scraping down your back to grip your butt possessively.
Your hips move faster, deeper with each thrust, making her moan. "You could've told me you were coming back today," you grunt.
She digs her nails into your skin and you hiss in annoyance, slapping her inner thigh. "Do that one more time and I'm not fucking you for a week."
The spy lets out a throaty laugh that turns into a scream when your thrusts suddenly become harsh and uncoordinated, your hands pressing down her hips. Her tits bounce with each push, her perky nipples begging for attention. You look up to her tear stricken face, enjoying the sight of her reddened cheeks and bleeding lips.
"It was- fuck… u-undercover," she's breathless, stuttering, "... secret," she manages at last, pulling your face down to her breasts, knowing you still have something to say.
You're annoyed and maybe a little bit hurt, but you still let her guide you, eagerly sucking on the tender skin, grazing her nipples with your teeth.
Maybe she'll finally agree to talk to you after.
She comes with a stifled cry, hiding her face in the crook of your neck and gets up as soon as her body stops shaking.
You have a lot of things to say, but your mouth is suddenly too dry and your throat too hoarse, so you sit on the edge of your bed and watch her dress.
"Thank you," she kisses you on the corner of your mouth, lingering, nose nuzzling against yours when she pulls away.
She looks reluctant to leave and you hope she doesn't.
The door clicks shut on her way out.
×××
"No daydreaming on the mission briefings." Clint snaps his fingers in front of your face, pulling you out of your thoughts.
You blink, eyes refocusing to see everyone staring at you in question.
"What?" You ask, shifting in your seat.
"Stark wants to know if you like your new suit," Natasha asks with a smirk on her face.
You look up at the screen in front of the room and there it is - yet another heavily modified piece of clothing you undoubtedly going to destroy on your next mission.
You can admit it looks better than the previous one, the red is much deeper and the blue is not as obnoxious, but they still clash, not coming together as seamlessly as the one you wore back home, but that's the best Stark can offer and you're thankful he's even trying, so you nod in appreciation and send him a grateful smile.
"Think this one will fall apart mid flight?" Thor teases, reminding you of one of your most embarrassing moments.
It happened when you first joined the team. Tony made you wear a suit he made, claiming it was good to match with the team, so you've listened to make him happy and fit in better. It's a good thing you wore your underwear from Asgard that day.
"Now that it's settled we should move on to the purpose of this briefing," Steve waited until he had everyone's attention before continuing, "now that Thor is finally here we can finally take back the Scepter…" he continues with the details and you easily tune him out, focusing on the redhead woman across from you instead.
The corner of her lip is still quirked up, her eyes trained on Steve as he gestures to the map on the screen behind him. You look down at your hands on the table, fiddling with your thumbs.
You wish you were better at reading humans.
“You okay?” Clint leans into your side to whisper discreetly.
You nod, managing a convincing smile. “Didn't get much sleep is all.”
He glances at Natasha not so subtly, his brows furrowing. You think he's the only one who knows about the two of you, or, at least, he suspects.
“You know what you're doing, right?”
“Yeah,” you breathe out, not knowing at all.
×××
You're hovering over the base, looking through the walls for Scepter, when you first see her.
The girl looks about your age, you think, maybe a little younger, and she is busy talking to a silver haired man. They look too out of place, dressed like high schoolers and unbothered by the attack. You frown when the girl whispers a quiet "take care of the big guy" to the boy, your mouth dropping open in shock when he runs almost fast enough to go unnoticed by you. Almost.
Deciding it's your time to intervene you warn the team before landing in front of the back entrance, eyes trained on the girl behind the door. You don't know what she's capable of and you find yourself intrigued. The door opens with a squeak and you wince, mutterings a curse under your breath.
She's out of sight by the time you enter, but you can still hear her erratic heartbeat.
"Come out," you say, tilting your head to the right. You heard enough to know she's hiding in the shadow.
You hear her gulp before she steps into your field of view, her shoulder grazing yours as she comes to stand in front of you.
She is beautiful, you think, taking note of redness in her pupils.
"You know who we are," you wait for her to nod before continuing, "you can come with me." You offer your hand, palm up, and wait for her to decide.
She scoffs and her eyes turn redder. "What makes you think I want to?" There's red around her fingers now and you find yourself curious to find out what she can do.
You smile. "You will come with us one way or another. I'd prefer not to hurt you."
You realise your mistake as soon as the words leave your mouth.
Suddenly, there's red everywhere and you're out of the building, flying through the door to the other end of the backyard. You feel a pressing weight on your chest, and when you look down you see red wisps enveloping your body, keeping you pinned to the ground.
You look up when a shadow falls on your face.
She crouches with a smirk planted on her smug face, and moves your hair out of your face. "You can come with me," she offers, mirth in her eyes and you let out a breathless laugh, closing your eyes and tilting your head back.
"I'm afraid I have to say no," you whisper after a moment, strangely content at the mercy of your enemy.
She hums, waving her hand over you and you feel the weight disappear.
When you open your eyes she's no longer there.
×××
"You just let her go?" Natasha asks later that night, her head nestled on your chest after hours of hiding her moans in a pillow as you pounded into her.
You snort. "She's a witch, Nat, I don't think I can keep up with magic."
She lifts her head to look at you, eyes searching for something you're not even aware of. "You're the fastest person on this planet. Faster than her brother, and certainly faster than her."
You look away, closing your eyes in embarrassment. You didn't even think about your speed when you faced the witch.
You feel her get up from bed, and you open your eyes, reaching for her, "Natasha- " Her eyes flash, and you close your mouth.
She shakes her head. "She distracted you. And you let her go," she huffs and bends down to pick up her panties.
You get up and catch her wrist. "Can you tell me what's going on?" You ask, searching her eyes for an answer, but you're an alien and she's the best spy in the world so you're left even more confused.
She opens her mouth for a split second before snapping it shut. She pulls away and puts on a shirt before finally speaking, "I saw the footage."
You frown.
"Didn't know it only takes a little flirting and a pretty face to make you let an enemy go," she hisses through clenched teeth.
Your mouth drops open in shock.
"Are you-" you let out a breathless chuckle at the mere thought before finally getting yourself together, "are you jealous?"
You can hear her jaw grinding, can hear her nails dig into the soft skin of her palm.
And yet, you still can't believe what she just said.
"You're a fucking hypocrite, Natasha," you say, and a split second later you're dressed and out in the nearby field, searing up towards the sky.
You don't see her falling back into the pillow you layed on mere seconds ago, tears gathering in the corners of her eyes.
×××
There's a party the next day, and a part of you just wants to hop in your pod and disappear in the depths of space.
Another part of you wants to see Natasha happy and content, basking in the warmth of your arms. You know she'll never allow anyone to know about the two of you, but still, hope blossoms in your chest when you first see her go down the stairs. She moves right past you towards the bar, and you see Banner approach her with a nervous smile. His flirting is awkward and you pity the man, awaiting Natasha's response.
She flirts back.
"So… You and Romanoff?" Steve comes to stand beside you, smiling his fatherly smile, and you fight the urge to run away.
"You should tell her," he presses on, "she's not the most open person in the world, but from what I know about her, I think… there's a good chance for the two of you to be happy."
You've told her.
She doesn't like you back.
You shoot him a quick, awkward smile. "I'll think about it."
He nods, satisfied and walks up to the pair, his eyes widening when he overhears the last bit of their conversation. He winces and looks back at you, knowing you probably heard it all by now.
You shake your head at the concerned look he sends your way, and walk to sit on the couch, closing your eyes for a moment, letting your hearing go wild, listening in on an argument on the other side of the city, anything to remove yourself from this situation. The argument doesn't last too long, the engaged pair making up not even ten minutes later and you move your attention back to the party.
When you open your eyes Thor is sitting beside you, daring Clint to pick up his hammer. You sit up straighter, curious to see where it might go.
"Everyone knows it's some kind of a trick." His fingers wrap around the handle, but the hammer doesn't move an inch, much to the archers embarrassment.
Tony appears seemingly out of nowhere to make fun of Barton and you join in on the laughter, enjoying the rare moment of happiness, momentarily forgetting about your not so fun predicament.
Thor winks at you, enjoying this way more than he probably should, and hands you a bottle of Asgardian beer.
Out of the corner of your eye you see Natasha join your little game, Steve hot on her heels. She looks a little out of place, eyes laced with uncertainty when she sees an empty spot by your side. With a slight push from Steve she sits, careful not to touch you.
Banner is left standing a few feet away.
"It's simple physics," Tony grins, attempting to lift the weapon. His eyes narrow when it stays in its spot.
You rub your eyes when he decides to embarrass himself even further, calling Rhodes for backup and putting on his suit. The ridiculous game goes on, and Steve decides to try, you don't bother to watch, but then you hear metal scraping against the fine wood of the coffee table. Your head snaps up to look at Thor and immediately you know he heard it too, his eyes going comically wide for a split second before closing in relief when Steve doesn't pull harder, letting the hammer stay in its place.
"Natasha?" Banner nudges the redhead.
You roll your eyes, taking a sip of your bear. You want to go and finish the drink in the solitary of your room, maybe let out a few tears, but you promised Thor you'd stay until the very end, knowing he's set to leave in a few short days.
"I don't want to know the answer to that question," she says before taking a sip of her beer.
"Y/n?" Thor invites you to try, but you shake your head no, an excuse already on your tongue when you first hear it.
The screeching is loud enough to hurt humans, but to your enhanced hearing it's pure torture. You fall to the floor, covering your ears, letting out a silent cry and Natasha is by your side immediately, pressing you into her side, trying to ground your hearing. You hiss in pain, your head feels like it's being slit open, and you think Natasha is saying something, but you can't focus on a single thing.
The next second you feel her lips against yours and the sound is gone, replaced by Natashas frantic heartbeat.
"Focus on me, baby, come on," Natasha whispers against your lips, words barely audible. You nod, trying to regain your senses.
Her kisses move lower to your chin, then to your jaw, her fingers skimping under the hem of your shirt, setting the skin of your lower stomach on fire.
"Stay with me, baby," she mumbles in your ear.
There's a fight going on around you, robots flying around destroying everything in sight, but the only thing you see is Natasha's glistening eyes as she pulls away to check on you.
Then she's pulling you up and out of the room, narrowly missing a piece of metal flying her way, your eyes flicker around and you stop in your tracks, ready to join the fight and end it in seconds, but then there's a tug on your hand.
"They'll handle it. Let me take care of you."
You nod, feeling hope blossom in your chest.
Maybe Steve's right.
×××
They handled it and now you're off to Africa, getting ready to fight a villainous robot made of vibranium. The jet is weirdly silent - Tony's sulking in the corner, unusually quiet, Steve stares him down from his seat, jaw grinding in annoyance and you wonder what happened after Natasha led you to her room. You tried to pry away, ready to run back and join on the planning, but she didn't budge, staring you down until you relented and fell against the sheets, her fingers making quick works of your belt buckle.
Now though, she's back to acting like she doesn't care, her eyes trained on the skyline and you can't even pretend you aren't hurt.
"We are close," you warn the team, already searching for the target. Your eyes lock on the pair talking to Ultron. "The twins are there, on the second floor, talking to Ultron. We need to hurry."
Natasha looks at you for the first time since you boarded the jet. "Stay away from the witch. We'll handle her."
You scoff at her tone, mildly pissed at her bossing you around. "You're ordering me around now?" you force through gritted teeth.
Her eyes narrow and she looks like she wants to say more, but Tony pushes her out of the way to jump out of the jet, Thor and Steve following right behind him, and she's left glaring daggers at your back as you hurry along.
You look for the witch the moment you land.
She's easy to find, hiding in the shadows, waiting for a perfect moment to strike, while her brother runs around wrecking havoc.
"Little witch," you call out, startling her enough to make her jump up.
Her eyes flash in annoyance, but the second she sees it's you her lips stretch in a one sided smile. "I have a name, you know."
You nod, your lips stretching into a full blown grin. You remember how your last conversation ended, but you don't care much about the possibility of her hurting you.
"I won't," she says, like she just read your mind.
You suppose she might have, she is a witch after all.
She shakes her head, letting out a huff of laughter, "There's a lot of things I can do," her eyes flash dangerously, her smile now with a hint of malice, "make sure not to cross me." She winks and turns just in time to step out of her brother's way.
You blink, cursing yourself for getting so distracted again, and dart after her brother. It is an easy ordeal, and mere seconds later you have him pinned to the ground.
"You really should let me go," he grunts against the concrete, wiggling against your hold.
"I am an alien, not an idiot," you scoff, easing your hold on him just a little.
He stills for a moment, craning his neck to take a look at you, "An alien?"
His eyes are full of wonder, and suddenly you're reminded that the two of them are young, the same age you were when you first stepped foot on Earth.
You sigh, looking around for a cage of some sort or a piece of metal to bend around the runner.
"Why are you helping them?" He asks, wonder replaced by anger. "Do you know what he did?"
There it is. An old basement with a bulletproof door.
"Making a bomb and launching it at civilians are two very different things, you know?" You quip and his eyes flash in indignation, but before he can start his rant you push him inside, locking the door and bending the metal for a good measure.
"He did some shitty things in the past, but at least he never joined the Nazis."
You walk away, painfully aware of the truth in your words. Now that you've said it out loud you're faced with the fact that the witch you've grown to like just after two short interactions is not a good person.
Shaking your head you make your way up, one down, two to go. You squint in the dark, trying to spot Ultron, but he's nowhere to be found and neither is Tony, so you mentally brace yourself to face the witch again, but the second you step on the landing you see Thor's slumped form.
"Hey!" You shake his shoulders and slap his face for good measure and his eyes open. He's blinking rapidly, like he just woke up from a long nap, his eyes glossed over.
"Y/n!" He whispers feverishly, and pulls you in a bone crushing hug. "You're okay, of course you're okay. That witch. She warped my mind," he pants, pushing you away, "You need to make sure everyone else is okay."
You look him over, and once you're sure he's not hurt you nod, pulling him up to his feet, and take off in the direction of Natasha's heartbeat.
You stop in your tracks as soon as your eyes fall on the trembling woman. Tears stream down her face, but her eyes are focused on the floor, unblinking. She doesn't move when Clint presses her into his side, doesn't flinch when he hauls her up to her feet, but when her eyes register you she jumps as if burned, clutching at Clint.
You take a step closer, your own eyes watering, but she looks like she might throw up if you move any closer.
Clint sends you a look and shakes his head, mouthing, "I've got her."
She limps past you, shaking so violently you're sure even a human can notice.
They move past you and suddenly all you see is red.
Moving faster than the speed of light you have the witch pressed against the wall, her fingers clutched in your vice grip.
She looks up, her eyes wide and terrified.
Good, you think.
"What did you do to her?" You growl in her face, pushing her into the wall with your whole body.
No way you'll let her escape this time.
Her throat constricts. "I- Her biggest fear. I showed her her biggest fear." She sinks her body against the wall, trying to wrangle her hands out of your grip. Her heart is thrumming violently and you can't tell if the tiny skip of a beat is a result of her fear or her lie.
"She'll be fine in a few hours, I swear." Her eyes lock with yours, so unbelievably green, and you feel yourself slipping away. "Just let me go," she asks, pushing her body forwards, her fingers slipping away from your hold. Her face tilts forward until your lips are almost touching. “Let me go,” she whispers. You don't see the wisps of her magic swirl around her fingers, too focused on the way her lips move. Too many thoughts swarm your brain, but you find yourself focusing on one. You want her to close the gap.
"That's right, you want me to kiss you." Her lips almost brush against yours in a gentle peck. Your grip on her weakens completely and you're enveloped in her arms. Suddenly, she's everywhere. In your arms, in your head, in your heart. "I'm sorry about this," she whispers before pushing you off the ledge.
There's red everywhere and you find yourself falling and falling…
…and falling until your back hits the ground with a painful thud.
"Y/n! Get up. Come on." Your father helps you up, tilting your head to check the injury, but you can't focus on his face, all you can see is purple.
The planet under your feet rumbles, splitting open yet again, making your father forget about tending to your bloodied forehead in favor of hauling you up over his shoulder.
"No." You push against his shoulders when you finally realize where he's taking you. "No! I'm staying with you," you cry out, wiping the tears out of your eyes.
The sight in front of you is a nightmare. A sick, deranged nightmare. You can see the man responsible for this hold up the purple stone higher in the air, another powerful wave destroying everything in its wake.
"We have to fight, dad! We have to stop him! What about mom?!" You scream until your throat hurts, but your father doesn't budge, pushing you through double doors leading to the pods.
"We will fight," he promises, putting you down. "But you… you're destined for greatness, my child. You can't die fighting a losing battle." He places a kiss on your temple, pushing a syringe into your side.
You stare at him in betrayal, fighting against him with all your might, but your limbs get too heavy and your eyes start closing on their own.
You're pushed in the pod and your father types coordinates for Asgard. "They'll treat you as their own," he chokes, trying to fight tears, "I love you, my sweet girl."
"Y/n!"
You sit up, gasping for breath, eyes darting around the room.
"Y/n, a little help!"
Tony's voice sounds from your comms and you shudder.
"I can't-" you sob, looking around you, searching for the witch, but she's long gone, and all you can do is sit in the dark and hope someone will come and get you.
"I don't know what you saw there, kid, but our green friend might chew me up any second now. I really need you," he pleads.
Your hands shake and your legs tremble as you stand up, forcing the memory to the back of your mind. You close your eyes, letting the tears fall and tear through the roof, unaware of a pair of eyes watching you leave.
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thinking about single!dad osamu and little miya who calls you babe. the little guy is sitting in his favourite seat (his seat—as all the staff and regulars have come to call it) at the counter at onigiri miya one day after school. he's entertaining himself, colouring with some crayons that samu keeps behind the counter for him, while papa wraps up work for the day and chats with him.
but he's not particularly chatty today.
"hey, tiny," osamu calls, leaning over the counter to see what his son is working on. "yer awful quiet today."
he's barely made any progress on the picture of the onigiri godzilla destroying tokyo he'd been so excited about earlier.
"papa," his son says after a moment's consideration. "when's babe's day?"
osamu quirks a brow.
"babe's day?"
his son scrunches up his face a little, like he's thinking quite hard about it. "there's mother's day, 'n father's day. when's babe's day?"
osamu feels his heart squeeze in his chest, in affection as much as it is bittersweet. he's not altogether surprised by the question, considering father's day had just passed, but he's not sure he knows how to answer it either. he lifts his hand and adjusts his onigiri miya cap as he considers how to tackle the surprisingly complex question his four year old had put to him.
"well... there isn't a babe's day, buddy," samu starts, and immediately his son looks at him in abject horror at this shocking bit of news.
"but why?"
samu sucks a bit of air through his teeth. "well, not everyone has a babe. remember? we've talked about this."
osamu's son pouts a little. "but that's not fair."
"what's not fair?" samu leans against the counter on his elbows and cocks his head to the side.
"babe deserves a day too because we love her."
that pang in osamu's chest threatens to cleave him in two.
"yer right, buddy. we do love her, huh?"
samu's son bobs his little head in a somewhat sad nod.
samu reaches clear over the counter and plucks his son up from his seat, bringing him over to his side and resting him against his hip. the little boy grips his father's t-shirt as he clings to him, resting his head on osamu's shoulder.
"tell ya what," he whispers down to his son, bouncing him lightly, "how 'bout we make our own day fer babe?"
the little boy stares up at him with stars in his eyes. "really?"
"really," samu answers with a laugh. "you finish that picture fer her, 'n i'll get her some flowers, and then we'll make her breakfast in bed and take her out to do all her favourite things that day."
"when?" his son asks, wiggling excitedly in his grip. "when?"
samu racks his brain as he tries to recall what your schedule looks like in the coming weeks.
and then, in just the way you always seem to, you walk in right when they need you most. the bell above the shop door chimes signalling your entrance, and both of the miyas eyes go right to you—you smile brightly when you see them both.
"hi boys!" you call to them, waving as you approach.
"babe!" the littlest miya cheers, returning your wave excitedly.
samu leans down to whisper in his ear, quietly slipping onigiri godzilla off the countertop and tucking it away out of sight. "babe's day's gotta be a secret okay? don't spill it!"
his son nods determinedly, but truthfully osamu knows the secret is more than likely to be revealed before the big day. he smiles anyway, pressing a little kiss to his son's forehead.
little miya immediately reaches for you on the other side of the counter once you reach them, and you take him from his father's arms into your own—squishing him tightly before returning him to his seat and taking the one beside it (the one that now everyone has started calling yours.)
you fall into easy conversation with the two of them—samu stopping to chat whenever he can between customers—talking about your day and asking about theirs as samu serves you both your favourite onigiri.
"hey, babe," samu says as he sets a plate down in front of you, and you look up from the picture you and his son are making together with a smile and a hum. "you busy on saturday?"
he and his son share a secretive little look that's less than subtle. it makes you laugh.
"never too busy for you two," you answer easily, and beside you little miya grins.
"great," samu replies. "keep it free fer us."
a customer approaches the other side of the counter and osamu has to step away, but he can still overhear bits and pieces of your conversation with his son even as he goes about preparing a new order.
"...a surprise? for me?"
"mmmhmmm! cause we love babe lots and lots!"
samu laughs to himself as he tucks a small stack of napkins into the takeout bag, because his son couldn't be more right about that. he hands the takeout bag to the waiting customer with a smile, and turns to watch you and his little boy colouring away at your picture together as the afternoon light streams in through the shop windows behind you—nearly identical looks of concentration on your faces (though you don't have any stray rice stuck to yours.)
and he can't help but think he'd make every day babe's day if he could.
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