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03jyh23 · 1 month ago

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⌇discovering us: a finding our way back special chapter

uncle san x uncle wooyoung!

⌇main series masterlist⌇

⌇synopsis: A quiet moment. A long night. San finds himself on Wooyoung's bed, disoriented by a storm that has nothing to do with the weather. This isn't part of the plan. But maybe, for a little while, they can be honest in the silence.

A side story set within the world of Finding Our Way Back, focusing on Wooyoung and San. This piece stands on its own and is not essential to the main plot, but it does offer a glimpse into a night that neither of them will forget.

⌇trigger warnings: emotional distress, identity crisis, mild anxiety, sexual identity questioning, emotional intimacy

��words: 3.9k

⌇reminder: what you're about to read is purely fiction, so let's keep it separate from reality.

!minors do not interact!

this scene has lived in my head for a long time. i wasn't sure when—or even if—i'd write it, but Wooyoung and San have always had their own rhythm, and i wanted to give them this quiet, raw space to breathe. it's something soft and a little sad and very much theirs.

to my regular readers: i'm tagging you as usual, but please know this isn't required reading for the main series. this is just a small piece of something that's been resting in the corners of my heart for a while, and i finally felt ready to share it.

thank you for being here, always.

love, mon

⌇taglsit: @seventeenthingsblr ⌇@DALSUWAHA ⌇

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⌇ @lveegsoi ⌇

part one what we can't say

The door to Wooyoung's room clicked shut behind him and San with a soft finality. Wooyoung tossed his phone onto the desk, kicked off his slippers, and pulled back the covers like he always did—like this was just another night. San watched him, arms crossed, hesitating by the door. There was something different in the air tonight—a tension neither wanted to acknowledge. The familiar rhythm of their nightly routine felt hollow, like they were both just going through the motions.

Wooyoung ran a hand through his hair and grabbed a clean shirt from his dresser. "I'm gonna shower real quick," he said, voice carefully neutral. He disappeared into the ensuite bathroom, the sound of running water followed moments later.

San sank onto the edge of the bed, the mattress dipping beneath his weight. The familiar scent of Wooyoung's laundry detergent clung to the sheets, but even that couldn't calm the restless energy thrumming through his veins. He sat there, stiff and still, hands clasped between his knees as if he didn't quite know what to do with himself. The hum of the shower through the wall filled the room like white noise, but it couldn't drown out the static in his mind.

He was too aware of the warmth in the room, of the way the lamplight threw soft golden shadows across Wooyoung's bed, of the faint trace of his cologne in the fabric of the pillow beside him. It wasn't new. None of this was new. He'd been in this room a hundred times, slept in this bed a hundred more. They shared food, jokes, and secrets. Physical touch had always come easily: arms slung around each other's shoulders, falling asleep pressed together during movie nights, hugs that lingered just a bit too long. But tonight felt different. Too quiet. Too charged. It wasn't just comfort anymore. He didn't know when it had shifted—maybe weeks ago, maybe longer—but it was unmistakable now. There was something between them. Something big. Something he didn't know how to name.

And he hated that he was scared of it.

He stared down at his hands, flexed his fingers as if they might give him an answer. What was he so afraid of? The feeling itself? The truth of it? Or was it the way Wooyoung looked at him sometimes—soft and open and a little bit like hope?

San's chest tightened.

Because what if he wasn't ready for this?

What if he was, and Wooyoung wasn't?

He rubbed the back of his neck, dragging in a slow breath through his nose.

He'd kissed girls before. He'd even loved, once or twice. But this was different. This was Wooyoung. His best friend. His constant. And suddenly everything felt fragile—like if he said the wrong thing, moved too fast, it might all crack. He wanted to be close. Closer than he'd ever been. He wanted to lie down and bury his face in the curve of Wooyoung's shoulder and pretend the world didn't exist outside this room.

San didn't know what he was waiting for.

But the sound of the water shutting off made his stomach turn in a loop.

The bathroom door creaked open a few seconds after with a soft hiss of steam, and Wooyoung stepped back into the room, rubbing a towel through his damp hair. He'd changed into one of his oversized shirts—the faded black one San had stolen a dozen times—and loose sleep shorts that hung low on his hips. He looked soft, unguarded, like he always did after a shower, skin pink from the heat and eyes sleepy.

But tonight, he paused when he saw San.

San hadn't moved. Still perched on the edge of the bed, shoulders hunched, gaze fixed on some invisible point on the floor.

Wooyoung stilled, towel falling from his hands, his voice tentative. "You okay?"

San looked up, startled as if he'd been pulled from a dream. "Yeah," he said too quickly. "Fine. Just tired."

Wooyoung nodded slowly, the air tight between them again. He crossed the room and tossed the towel over his chair before pulling back the covers on his side of the bed. "Come on," he said, gently, like it was any other night, even though it wasn't. "Let's sleep."

San shifted, climbing in with careful movements, as if the bed might bite. He lay stiff on his back, arms at his sides, staring up at the ceiling. Wooyoung slid in next to him, careful to keep space between their bodies, though it felt unnatural not to curl in the way they always did.

For a few long moments, neither of them said a word. The room was filled only with the sound of their breathing—San's a little too fast, Wooyoung's a little too even, as if he were pretending to be asleep.

"Are you mad at me?" Wooyoung's voice was barely above a whisper, the question hanging delicately and uncertain in the space between them.

"What? No." San laughed, but it sounded wrong — too quick, too tight, like a string pulled taut and ready to snap. His fingers twisted in the fabric of his shirt. "Why would I be mad? That's not... that's not what this is."

"I don't know," Wooyoung said, voice gentle, careful, like he was trying not to spook a frightened animal. "You're acting weird. Different. Like you're trying to hold yourself away from something."

San's lips parted like he wanted to deny it, but nothing came out. His fingers dug into the blanket until his knuckles went white, betraying the tension running through his body. "I'm not trying to," he managed finally, the words coming out rough and unsteady.

"Okay." A beat. The silence stretched between. "So what is it? What's going on in that head of yours?"

The silence sat heavy between them again, thick with all the things they weren't saying. Wooyoung's heartbeat was too loud in his ears. He wasn't expecting an answer. San never said anything first. Not when they mattered. Not when they could change everything.

But then, San did speak. Quietly, his voice small and vulnerable in the darkness. "I don't know what's wrong with me. I feel like I'm standing on the edge of something, and I can't tell if I'm supposed to step back or jump."

Wooyoung turned his head on the pillow, studying San's profile in the dim light. The words hung between them, raw and honest in a way that made Wooyoung's chest ache. He wanted to reach out, to bridge the gap between them, but something in San's voice made him hesitate.

San's breaths came shallow and quick, his mind spinning in circles. This wasn't right. None of this made sense. He liked girls—he had always liked girls. The softness of their hands, the curve of their smiles, the way they smelled like flowers and sugar. That's what attraction was supposed to feel like. Not... not this. Not the way his skin burned when Wooyoung's shoulder brushed his, or how his heart stumbled when Wooyoung looked at him with those eyes that saw too much.

"San?" Wooyoung's voice was barely there, a thread of sound in the darkness. "Please talk to me."

San squeezed his eyes shut. He couldn't look at Wooyoung. Couldn't bear to see the concern, the patience, the something else that lurked beneath it all. His throat felt tight, words trapped behind a wall of confusion and fear. What could he even say? That his body felt like it was betraying him? That every certainty he'd ever had about himself was suddenly questionable?

The mattress shifted as Wooyoung moved, creating more space between them. The distance felt both like relief and loss, and San hated himself for both reactions.

"If you want," Wooyoung said carefully, each word measured, "I can sleep on the couch tonight."

The offer hit San like a physical blow. This was wrong too—Wooyoung pulling away, making himself smaller, trying to fix something he hadn't broken. San wanted to reach out, to grab his wrist and keep him close. But his hands remained frozen at his sides, his body a prison of indecision.

"No," he managed finally, the word coming out choked. "Stay. Please." It was all he could offer, these fragments of honesty in a sea of confusion.

Wooyoung was quiet for a long moment, and San could feel his gaze like a physical weight. There was understanding there, and something else—something that made San's heart squeeze painfully in his chest. The air between them felt heavy with everything left unsaid, with all their almost-touches hanging in the silence.

San hated the space between them with an intensity that surprised him. His skin burned with a desperate, consuming need to be closer, to feel the familiar warmth of Wooyoung's presence against him, to breathe in the lingering scent of his shampoo and shower-warm skin. The distance felt like a physical ache in his chest, a hollow space that grew larger with each passing second. His fingers twitched with the urge to reach out, to bridge the gap between them, to find an anchor in the comfort they'd always shared so easily before. But he didn't speak. He couldn't. The words felt trapped behind the wall of his confusion, caught somewhere between fear and want.

His fingers didn't move. He hadn't taken Wooyoung's hand. He hadn't moved closer. He hadn't moved at all.

He just lay there, rigid and silent, as if frozen under the weight of his thoughts. Wooyoung could practically hear them—loud and frantic and full of panic behind that stillness. He could feel it in the way San's breathing came shallow and uneven, in the way his hand stayed clenched in a fist by his side, refusing to reach back.

Wooyoung's chest ached.

He shifted again, slightly, "San…" he tried again, gently, carefully.

No answer. San's jaw was tight, his gaze still fixed on the ceiling like it held a lifeline. He looked so far away, like he wasn't really in the room with him at all.

And Wooyoung felt it—that awful, slow-sinking realization that something was breaking and he didn't know how to stop it. His best friend, the one person he thought he understood better than anyone, was a locked door tonight. And he didn't know where the key had gone.

"I didn’t mean to push," Wooyoung said, voice rough at the edges. "If you don't wanna talk, it's okay. I just—can you look at me? Please?"

San's throat bobbed, but he didn't turn.

Not even that.

And it stung. That he wouldn't even look.

"I don't know what I did," Wooyoung said, quieter now. "If I made you uncomfortable, or crossed some line, or—God, I don't even know what this is, but—" He broke off, shook his head. "But I can feel something's wrong."

Still nothing.

Wooyoung turned away, pressing his forehead into the pillow to hide the sudden wetness burning behind his eyes. He didn't want to cry. Not over this. Not when it wasn't even a fight, just silence.

Just San not wanting to meet him in the middle anymore.

And San—San felt it. Felt the air shift, colder without Wooyoung's voice in it. Felt the way guilt crawled under his skin like a fever. But the words wouldn't come. He didn't know what to say.

Because it didn't make sense.

Because nothing made sense.

He wasn't supposed to feel like this. He wasn't supposed to feel anything. Not like this. Not for Wooyoung.

And yet here he was, heart stuttering every time Wooyoung moved, lungs too tight to breathe around the ache. He didn't know what he wanted—only that everything felt too close, too real, too dangerous.

He didn't know how to tell Wooyoung that he was scared.

That he didn't know who he was when he looked at him like that.

So he said nothing.

He just closed his eyes and hoped it would all go away.

But it didn't.

"I don't get it," San said, more to himself than to Wooyoung. "I look at you, and it feels like I'm supposed to know something. Like I've always known it. And now I'm just remembering."

Wooyoung didn't speak. He couldn't. He was too busy trying not to cry.

"It scares me."

"I know," Wooyoung said softly. "It scared me, too."

San seemed to stiffen beside him, spine rigid as a board, as if his body had forgotten how to share this familiar space. It was as if Wooyoung's mere presence had somehow made everything worse.

Am I making him uncomfortable?

Did I push too hard again?

Was I wrong about all of it?

He blinked fast, throat thick. Wooyoung didn't want to cry.

Not when San hadn't even said anything. Not when the silence said enough.

Because this wasn't the San he knew.

The San he knew teased and touched and laughed like the world couldn't break him. The San he knew never hesitated to climb into bed with him and steal the blanket, or complain about his cold feet, or fall asleep draped over him like he belonged there.

And maybe that was the problem.

Maybe Wooyoung had let himself believe that the way San touched him meant something. That the softness in his voice when they were alone, the comfort they found in each other, the closeness—they all pointed somewhere. Somewhere more.

But now San was a fortress of silence and tension. And Wooyoung didn't know how to get in.

He wanted to reach for him again. To ask—Please. Please just talk to me. Tell me I’m not imagining this.

But he didn't.

Because he could feel how close San was to breaking. And he couldn't be the one to push him over the edge.

So he stayed still.

Breathing carefully.

Trying not to hope too loudly.

But his heart was screaming.

Why can't you just say it?

Even if it's just to say you don't feel the same, just say something.

Don't leave me in the dark.

He shifted slightly, just enough that his shoulder brushed San's.

San flinched. Barely. But enough.

And that… that was the moment something cracked deep in Wooyoung's chest. He swallowed hard, curling in on himself like he could take up less space. He wanted to disappear into the mattress. To not exist in this room where love was, maybe something ugly and shameful, and confusing.

Where his presence—his touch—felt like too much.

He stared into the dark and let the tears gather silently at the corners of his eyes.

Not because San didn't feel it.

But because maybe he did.

And maybe that was worse.

Because if San did feel it—and still couldn't meet him in the middle—then what did that mean?

Was it him? Was he the thing San couldn't accept?

Was loving Wooyoung the thing that made San retreat into silence?

The thought sat cold in his chest. He breathed through it. Swallowed the ache. Curled smaller.

And then something happened — nothing dramatic. Just San leaning his head slowly against Wooyoung's shoulder, like he used to.

Wooyoung didn't move at first. He just breathed — slow, steady, like he was afraid the moment would slip through his fingers if he shifted too much. San's head was heavy against him, warm, familiar. But not quite the same. There was something electric in it now, like standing on the edge of a question neither of them knew how to ask. Wooyoung tilted his head slightly, enough that his cheek brushed the top of San's hair. It was soft and smelled like his shampoo. That shouldn't have made his heart ache, but it did.

Slowly, San's hand moved. His fingers uncurled from their tight fist, and with a hesitation that felt like it lasted years, he reached up. Not to take Wooyoung's hand like he usually would, but to touch his face. His fingertips brushed Wooyoung's cheek, barely there, like he was touching something precious and breakable.

Wooyoung's breath caught.

San had never touched him like this before—so deliberately, so carefully. Like he was crossing a line he couldn't uncross.

Wooyoung didn't move.

Couldn't.

His skin burned under the touch, but he didn't dare lean into it. He was afraid of tipping the balance, of making San pull away. It was like being caught in the pause between lightning and thunder—something huge just waiting to hit.

"Is this okay?" San whispered, his voice trembling slightly in the darkness.

Wooyoung couldn't speak. He just nodded, barely perceptible, afraid that any sudden movement would shatter whatever was happening between them. San's fingers lingered on Wooyoung's cheek, the touch so light it could've been imagined. His hand trembled, and Wooyoung felt it—just the tiniest tremor, like San wasn't sure if he was allowed to want this.

Wooyoung turned his face slightly, finally pressing into the touch.

And that seemed to break something open.

San's breath hitched, his hand pulling back immediately, as if burned.

And it hurt Wooyoung more than it should have.

Not because San had pulled away.

But because he hadn't meant to stay.

There'd been a moment—brief, flickering—where Wooyoung had thought: Maybe.

Maybe this was real.

Maybe San felt it too.

Maybe he wasn't crazy for reading into the way San had lingered a second too long when they hugged, or how his gaze caught and held like it wanted more than it had permission to want.

San jerked away suddenly, his legs swinging over the side of the bed with such force that the mattress creaked beneath him. His shoulders were drawn tight, muscles rigid with tension. "Shit," he whispered, the word catching in his throat. "Shit, I—sorry. I'm so sorry. I didn't mean to—" His voice trailed off, heavy with regret.

Wooyoung pushed himself upright too, movements careful and measured, maintaining the delicate distance between them. "San—" he started, voice gentle.

"I shouldn't have done that," San interrupted, fingers raking through his hair with increasing agitation, tugging at the strands. "I don't even know what I'm doing. This isn't—I can't—" His words came out fragmented, scattered like broken glass.

"It's okay—" Wooyoung tried again, voice soft and reassuring.

"No, it's not!" The words burst from San's throat, raw and fractured, more desperate than angry. His voice cracked on the last word, betraying the depth of his turmoil. "You're my best friend, Woo. You're my—" He swallowed hard, struggling to find the right words. "This isn't how it's supposed to be. I don't even know what this is. Everything feels wrong and right at the same time."

"It doesn't have to be anything yet. I just..." Wooyoung paused, choosing his words carefully. "I need you to let me in—just a little. We can figure this out together. You don't have to figure it out all at once. We have time."

"But I don't get it," San said, his voice breaking with helplessness. His hands trembled in his lap. "I've never— It's never been like this before. Not with anyone else. And it's you." His voice caught on the word. "I'm not supposed to feel like this about you. These feelings weren't supposed to exist."

Wooyoung's heart ached at that, the words hitting him like physical blows, because they sounded like both a confession and a rejection wrapped in the same breath. Each word felt like a door opening and closing simultaneously.

"I thought I knew myself," San whispered, "I thought I was sure about everything. About who I was, what I wanted."

There was a heavy pause, and then Wooyoung asked, his voice impossibly soft, gentle as falling snow: "And now?"

San turned to look at him, finally, really looked, for the first time since he'd pulled away. His eyes were glassy in the dim light, brimming with unshed tears, his brow furrowed like every thought was causing him physical pain. "Now I think I'm coming apart," he confessed, voice raw. "Everything I thought I knew about myself feels like it's unraveling."

Wooyoung's throat tightened. "You're not," he insisted softly but firmly. "You're not broken, San. You're just... discovering something new about yourself."

"But something's changed," San whispered, his voice trembling with uncertainty. "And I don't know if I can ever go back to how things were before. But I don't know how to move forward either. It feels like I'm stuck in between, and I can't find my way out."

Wooyoung nodded slowly, "Then let's just... stay here. For now. We don't have to go anywhere."

San didn't respond immediately, but after what felt like an eternity, he nodded. The movement was barely perceptible, but it was there—a tiny acknowledgment, a small step toward acceptance.

And this time, when Wooyoung reached for him, he didn’t flinch.

Their fingers met, hesitant and unsure, curling together like it was the first time. Maybe it was.

"Can you..." Wooyoung started, voice barely above a whisper, "Please stay with me tonight?" The request was shy, hesitant, like he was afraid of asking too much.

San was quiet for a moment, then squeezed Wooyoung's hand gently. "I'll stay," he whispered back, voice rough but steady.

"If you're stuck," the words flowed from Wooyoung's mouth like a thread of warmth, fragile. His voice didn't waver as he met San's gaze—not with pressure, not with expectation, but with quiet honesty. "Then I'll stay stuck with you until you're ready to move. You don't have to figure it out alone. Not tonight. Not ever."

San blinked, slow and disbelieving, as if the weight in his chest didn't quite know what to do with that kind of gentleness. His mouth opened like he wanted to argue, like he didn't deserve that kind of grace, but no words came out. Just a shaky exhale.

The room was silent, the kind that carried more than stillness—shared breath, shared tension, a shared truth neither of them could unspeak now.

"I'm scared," San said again, but this time it wasn't a confession thrown into the dark. It was an offering.

Wooyoung's face softened, something tender blooming behind his tired eyes. "So am I."

And for the first time, it felt like they were on the same side of something—same fear, same want, same impossibility.

San's hand moved again, slower this time, more intentional. He reached between them and let his fingers curl loosely around Wooyoung's wrist, not quite holding, not quite letting go either.

It was the barest contact. But it was real.

Wooyoung let out a breath he hadn't realized he'd been holding.

He didn't try to close the space. He didn't lean in. He just turned his palm up, let their hands sit there, tentative and warm between them. Waiting. Willing.

And when San finally laced their fingers together, trembling but sure, Wooyoung didn't say a word. He didn't have to.

Because sometimes, the smallest touch says,

I’m not ready

And

I want to be.

And

Please wait for me.

And

I think I love you,

all at once.

And Wooyoung—he would wait.

For as long as it took.

#san #choi san #wooyoung #jung wooyoung #woosan #ateez #woosan fluff #woosan fanfic #woosan one shot #san and wooyoung #san wooyoung

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frost-queen · 1 year ago

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Falling leaves (Reader x Prince Zuko)

Requested by: anon Forever tag:@missmelodramatic , @merlin-dahlia, @alex--awesome--22 , @elllie-does-the-posts, @floatlosers , @merlieve , @queen-of-books , @glimmering-darling-dolly ,@denkisclown , @wildieflower ,@meyocoko , @justanothercoco, @subjecta13-thefangirl , @m-rae23 , @harleyquinnswifeyfrfr , @swampthing07 , @melsunshine , @panhoeofmanyfandoms , @venomsvl , @the-uncoordinated-house-cat ,@rosecentury , @imagines-by-her , @evilcr0ne , @vviolynn , @niktwazny303 ,@avada-kedavra-bitch-187 , @markive-m , @sweetheartlizzie07

Summary: Lu Ten and you used to be engaged untill the news fell upon you of his death. After Lu Ten's death, grow Zuko and you closer. Eventually falling for each other, but remaining too guilty in honour of Lu Ten. Yet a simple nudge of Iroh eases Zuko in the right direction.

Anxiously you were pacing around in your room. Unable to sleep. Barely even attempted to go to bed when you had such a heavy weight on you. Something was occurring. You could sense it. Ever since Lu Ten has been called out to war, you’ve had nothing but restless sleep. Yet this was different. Mostly you could call asleep at some point.

Now you simply couldn’t. Afraid that if you might go to sleep, you might miss something of importance. There hadn’t been recent notes from him for days now as it started to worry you. Pacing around as your thumb rested between your teeth. Trying, hoping there would be news from him.

Yet deep down, you feared that if you might receive news, it wouldn’t be the best news. Your feet having walked countless steps. Simply going back and forth. It had become a routine, you would do mindlessly. Feet never seeming to tire out.

The candles were almost burned out. But a little stomp with the smallest of flames. Their nature light having dimmed the room. Anxiety rose as you so hoped there wouldn’t be any news. Hoping that Lu Ten was alright and would return from war. If not for the sake of you, then for the sake of his father Iroh. Countless more steps you did. Not once tired.

The sound of sudden knock on the door made you stop. Staring still at that cold door. Swallowing nervously, you blinked rapidly to keep your emotions down. – “Yes.” – you spoke watching as the door opened. You had expected an officer, a soldier, anyone but not him. Iroh came in sight as he pushed the door further open. His gaze kept on the ground. It was enough.

You inhaled deep with a shiver, lip trembling. Iroh entered, closing the door behind him. – “Y/n…” – he started unable to lift his gaze up to you. You noticed a piece of parchment in his hand, slightly hidden behind his back. – “I…my son…” – he said finally lifting his gaze up to you. Eyes glossy with hidden tears.

You bowed your head to him, pressing your lips together to silence your cry. Iroh noticed how you haven’t even prepared to go to bed. Still in full attire as if you had been waiting for any news. Iroh moved his hand with the letter in it, trembling to the front. – “My son…” – he repeated too much of a burden to speak the words. You went down on your knees, laying down, bowing the lowest to him. Iroh sniffled touched by your gesture of respect.

“My deepest apologies to you Y/n.” – Iroh spoke as it made you lift your head up. – “You lost a son.” – you replied not wanting him to apologize to you. There was no need for him to apologize to you. Not while he was grieving so much of his son. – “You lost a love.” – he answered, moving his hands togethers to bow at you. Getting up, you walked up to him. Cherishing your hands under his to lift him up.

Make him stand up straight once more. – “I bow to you.” – you friendly scolded him with a saddened smile. Iroh smiled faintly back at you. He then retired to his own quarters to grief for his son whoever he pleased. The moment he left, you felt yourself unbalance. Wobbly on your feet as it made you bump against the cabinet.

Hand brought up to your mouth, to deafen out your sobs. For your fiancé Lu Ten had lost his life in battle. The shock finally entering your body like an explosion. Shaking you to your core as it made every fibre in you tremble. Tremble as you let out a scream of agony. Scream so loud it died out to grasp for air followed by loud sobs and cries.

The very ground from underneath your feet caved away. For that night and many more nights they would be sleepless. The news of Lu Ten’s passing roamed quickly through the palace. The ceremony in honour of Lu Ten came three days later. Giving Iroh the time to grief alone and in silence. Lu Ten’s ceremony was peaceful. Iroh sat down. Three more empty chairs beside him.

You stood upright to his right. Hands folded together. Many of those who came to pay their respects, only had eyes for Iroh and his grief. Bowing to him without a word. You didn’t need the attention as you were but Lu Ten’s to be bride.

Prince Zuko paid his respects to Lu Ten. He then paused in front of his uncle. Bowing to him as well. For a moment he was about to move on, till he decided to stay. Iroh’s gaze slowly going up as he noticed Zuko had lingered. No one else took the time to linger. – “When my studies weren’t going well and father was unhappy.” – Zuko began looking humble at the ground.

“Lu Ten gave me this.” – Iroh’s gaze went down to Zuko’s hand. Clearly holding something hidden in his palm. – “He won it for finishing first in his officers class. He said it should belong to someone destined to do great things.” – Zuko continued as Iroh recognized it. – “It gave me strength.” – Zuko spoke with clarity. With a soft breath, he knelt down, taking his uncle’s hand to place the medal in his hand.

Zuko rose once more. – “Lu Ten didn’t needed it.” – he spoke looking back at his uncle. – “Because he was the strongest person I knew.” – Zuko finished with a caring smile. His uncle closed his hand on the medal, blinking a few tears away. Zuko then surprisingly turned to you. Holding his hands together to give you a bow.

It made you blink surprised as he was the first person to acknowledge your pain too. – “He loved you very much Y/n.” – Zuko said to you before coming to sit next to his uncle. Showing his gratitude and support to his uncle in his grieving. After the ceremony, you excused yourself from everyone. Heading up to the balcony. Arms resting on the railing as you let the breeze blow your tears away.

You didn’t notice someone approaching till you felt a presence near you. – “Prince Zuko.” – you said surprised, turning to bow at him. Zuko held his hand up with a sheepish smile. – “Please Y/n.” – he said not wanting you to threat him so stiffly as all the others did. With a simple nod, you accepted it. – “What you did for your uncle was very warmly.” – you told him gazing at the view. Zuko came resting his arms on the railing beside you.

“I am sorry not one of them acknowledged your pain, Y/n.” – Zuko said with sympathy. – “It is quite alright.” – you replied in a soft tone. – “It is not.” – Zuko answered with fierceness. – “You loved Lu Ten. You have every right to be threated with respect.” – you could see that he was getting a bit worked up over it. It made you chuckle a bit.

Zuko curled up a smile as well from seeing you light up. – “Thank you.” – you whispered out, feeling as if your heart was lighter. Zuko moved his hand to his chest, bowing to you. You turned back to the scenery, breathing deep. – “I shall leave you now…” – Zuko began with a gesture, already turning his posture away. – “Please!” – you called out making him stop his action. – “Stay.” – you finished sweetly, not wanting to be alone.

Zuko moved back beside you, remaining quiet as he enjoyed the scenery with you. He stayed with you until it grew too cold. Zuko led you back inside, for you to seek out warmth once more. Zuko bowed his head when he had guided you up to your quarters. You bend through your knees to curtsy at him. Zuko kept smiling at you as you closed the door on him. Surprisingly that night you slept well. The moment your head hit the pillow, you dreamed off.

As the sun rose once more, were you greeted by Prince Zuko once more. Waiting for you in the hallways to join you. Give you comfort and set your mind of your grief. It was nice to share more than tears. Zuko and you started to share small talk. Speak about the most simplest of things to get your minds off it. There was still time for grieving, but there were also moments of joy.

As the leaves changed Zuko and you grew closer to each other. Having spend so many time together it was almost impossible to not share a moment together a day. Zuko was once again waiting for you. – “Y/n there you are!” – he exclaimed, taking your hand to pull you along. – “Zuko do you not have studies?” – you questioned. – “Finished early.” – he breathed out, tugging more on you to hurry up.

You raised your eyebrow questionable up to him. Zuko placed his hand on yours that he was still holding. – “Oh come on Y/n. You know what an excellent student I am.” – he let out, making you laugh loud. Zuko led you outside to the pond. – “You should not neglect your studies. Your sister does not.” – you told him.

Zuko groaned soft. – “Can we please not talk about Azula.” – he answered with a bothered expression. – “Alright.” – you gave in moving your hand up. In the pond was a little family of turtle duck as you awed at them. – “Would you like to feed them?” – Zuko proposed already revealing some bread. You looked at him, how clearly he had foreseen this. Zuko shrugged his shoulders, giving you a piece of bread.

You started breaking it into smaller bits, tossing it into the pond. The turtle ducks swam over to it, nibbling on the bread. One of the little one’s bit at the bread, using a bit too much force as he dipped down, head first in the water. It made you laugh soft at how cute that looked. Hearing you laugh made Zuko smile. You started to throw more bread in the pond as Zuko kept giving you crumbled bread to toss.

“Neglecting your studies for low life pets?” – A sharp voice came through making you gasp. – “What do you want Azula!” – Zuko said firm standing in front of you. – “Oh zuzu you humour me.” – Azula responded with a sneer. – “Perhaps you should keep feeding stupid ducks, for I’ll be sure to out do you soon enough… oh wait. I already did.” – she finished with a devilish chuckle. Zuko got tense as he wanted to have a go at her, but you stopped him.

Knowing Azula wasn’t worth it. – “Right have our cousin’s hand me down keep you tamed Zuzu.” – Azula mocked making you clench your jaw. – “Do not speak about Y/n like that!” – Zuko called out. It only seemed to amuse Azula more. – “I shall speak to her how I like!” – Azula shouted back, readying herself. Zuko’s eyes widened when he saw his sister create fire. Sending it towards the two of you.

Zuko wrapped his arms around you, pushing you to the side as he dove with you to the ground. Azula’s fire blowing over your heads. Azula laughed manically before taking her leave. – “Are… are you alright Y/n?” – Zuko questioned, lifting his head up as he suddenly noticed how close he was to your face. You nodded with a soft hum staring with wide eyes at him. Zuko’s eyes flicked briefly down to your lips as did yours.

Heart pounding louder as your eyes got drawn to his lips once more. Wondering what it would feel like to kiss them. For over the past few months that you had been spending more with him, you started to fall in love with Zuko. The sound of your heart beating got overwhelming as in this moment you wanted him to kiss you. The thought seemed to have crossed his mind as well. He moved his head a bit down, already tilting it to the side, slowly closing his eyes.

You felt his breath tickle your lips, anticipating the kiss. – “I…I shouldn’t.” – Zuko said pulling himself away. You got up as well, nodding. – “We shouldn’t.” – you responded, feeling guilty. Guilty for betraying Lu Ten. Zuko helped you up to your feet as you didn’t speak a word. Leaving in separate ways, too ashamed for ruining the memory of Lu Ten.

Zuko made his way into the palace, sighing deep. – “Nephew!” – Iroh’s stern voice came through, startling Zuko. – “Uncle.” – he spoke surprised. – “Were you just outside with Y/n?” – he asked. – “No…yes… I mean…” – Zuko stuttered out not sure how to respond to this. Zuko exhaled deep. – “I know I spend too much time with her and I am sorry for it uncle. I won’t let it happen again.”

Iroh furrowed his brows. – “And why would you want to do that?” – he questioned again. – “Because…” – Zuko started trying to make it obvious without hurting his uncle’s feelings. Iroh picked up on it, chuckling deep. – “If you worry about me do not. I see how the two of you are around each other. You smile more nephew. I like to see you more smile.” – Iroh said with a nudge at Zuko.

“I…I don’t understand uncle.” – Zuko responded confused. Iroh chuckled once more, laying a hand on Zuko’s shoulder. – “If you worry about me do not. I would want nothing more than my favourite nephew to be happy with Y/n.” – he teased him. – “I am your only nephew.” – Zuko joked making Iroh laugh loud. – “Go on.” – Iroh gave Zuko another nudge back in the direction of the gardens. Zuko smiled, hugging his uncle before running back outside to look for you.

------------------------------------

Read more of my fics on my Masterlists!

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florawrites-blog · 1 year ago

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Don’t worry mama - P.js

The room was dimly lit by the soft glow of the nightlight, casting shadows that danced across the walls. You paced back and forth, your mind a whirlwind of anxiety. You glanced at the clock for what felt like the hundredth time; it was 1:27 AM. Your heart ached with worry as you peeked into the crib again, watching the shallow rise and fall of your baby’s chest. Every breath was a fragile reassurance that he was still with you.

Jay walked into the room quietly, his presence a calming contrast to your restless energy. He placed a gentle hand on your shoulder. "Hey, why don’t you try to get some rest? You need it," he said softly.

You shook your head, your eyes never leaving your son's face. "I can’t, Jay. What if something happens while I’m asleep? I need to be here. I need to make sure he's okay."

Jay stepped closer, wrapping his arms around you. "I understand. I'm worried too. But you need to take care of yourself so you can take care of him. I’ll stay with him tonight. I'll watch over him and make sure he's okay."

Tears welled up in your eyes. "But what if—"

"I promise," Jay interrupted gently, "I won’t take my eyes off him. I’ll sit right here beside his crib. You can rest knowing he's safe."

You hesitated, torn between exhaustion and the overwhelming need to protect your child. Jay's steady gaze finally reassured you. You nodded reluctantly, feeling the weight of the past sleepless nights pressing down on you. "Okay, but wake me if anything changes, no matter how small."

"I will," Jay assured you, guiding you towards your bedroom. "Now, lie down and try to sleep. He needs you to be strong, and you can’t do that if you’re exhausted."

You lay down, every fiber of your being straining to stay awake, but the exhaustion was too much. You fell into a fitful sleep, the worry never fully dissipating.

Jay returned to the nursery, pulling a chair close to the crib. He watched your son, his tiny body fighting against the illness. Jay reached into the crib, gently touching the baby’s hand, feeling the warmth and life. He settled in for the night, his eyes never leaving the crib, determined to be the rock you needed him to be.

Hours passed, and Jay remained vigilant. He listened to every breath, every tiny movement, ready to act at a moment’s notice. His mind was a quiet storm of prayers and hopes, willing your baby to get better.

As dawn broke, the first light of morning seeped into the room. Jay was exhausted but resolute, still watching over your child with unwavering devotion. He glanced back towards your bedroom, knowing you would wake soon, needing reassurance and news. He was ready to be your strength, just as he had promised.

Please don't steal or copy , thank you

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redroomreflections · 9 months ago

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What's Good For The Heart

Natasha Romanoff x fem!reader

A Family of Her Own Series

7/9

Masterlist | General Masterlist

w/c: 6k

Summary: After the fall of the Avengers, Natasha Romanoff returns home to her secret family—a life she's carefully hidden away for years. Struggling to balance her role as a mother and wife while avoiding the dangers of her past, Natasha is forced to make difficult decisions that impact her loved ones.

This Chapter: R returns to New York and gets a visit from Ross.

Flying always made you feel a bit restless. As you sat back in the plush leather seat, rubbing your temple, you sighed, thinking about the coming days. The hum of the engines, the slight turbulence—everything seemed more pronounced now that you were alone. Without Natasha or the kids to keep your mind distracted, the anxiety simmered just beneath the surface, creeping into every quiet moment.

Your eyes drifted over to Ricky Mason, who sat across from you, tapping away on his tablet. He wasn’t as talkative by any means, which you were grateful for, but even in his silence, you could pick up on something. A glance here, a subtle shift there. It wasn’t bold or overt, but you could read people well enough to know Ricky's admiration for Natasha went beyond simple friendship. He'd been utterly dumbfounded to know you existed and that you and Natasha were married.

“So,” He said finally, breaking the quiet, “I’ve gotta say, getting this whole thing set up… fake flight logs, the new identities—it’s pretty impressive, even for me.”

You hummed in response, half-listening as you gazed out the window, watching the clouds drift by. "You've outdone yourself," you replied absently, not really in the mood for small talk.

He chuckled, shifting in his seat as if he wanted to say more but wasn’t sure how. "You know... Romanoff’s a hell of a woman," he added, his tone casual but not quite neutral.

That caught your attention. You glanced over at him, studying his face, the way he avoided looking directly at you now. "Yeah, she is," you replied evenly, not giving much away.

Ricky cleared his throat, pretending to focus on his tablet again, but you could sense the undercurrent in his words. He wasn’t being bold, not openly flirting, but there was something in the way he brought her up. A hint of admiration that went beyond simple respect for her skills.

"I mean, not to get personal or anything," he continued, his voice carefully measured now, "but it’s impressive. Everything she’s done. Everything you’ve both managed to pull off." He gave a small, nervous laugh, his bravado dimmed just enough to make you notice. "Takes a special kind of person to handle all of that."

You leaned back in your seat, keeping your gaze on him. "It does," you said, your tone soft but pointed. "And she’s a lot more than what people think."

Ricky nodded, perhaps sensing that he’d treaded into sensitive territory. "No doubt," he replied quickly, his eyes darting away again. He seemed to catch himself before going any further, shifting the conversation back to logistics. "So, we’ll be touching down in Jersey soon. I’ll make sure the rental car is ready when you land."

"Good," You said, letting the tension ease out of your shoulders. You didn’t need to make a scene, but you wanted to be sure he understood the unspoken boundary. Ricky wasn’t dumb, and he probably felt the shift in the air.

The rest of the flight passed in relative silence, with only the hum of the engines and the occasional click of Ricky’s tablet filling the cabin. You tried to focus on the plan ahead—getting to your old apartment in Jersey, preparing for the next steps—but your thoughts kept drifting back to Natasha and the kids. You pictured them on their way to the Lake District, hidden away in the quiet beauty of the English countryside.

Natasha would be in disguise, of course, her dark wig and brown contacts making her almost unrecognizable. Stella would be chattering non-stop about sharks, and Nicky, ever serious, would be watching everything with wide, curious eyes. It comforted you to know they’d be safe, at least for a while. But the weight of Ross’s ultimatum hung over you, pressing against the fragile peace you had tried to build for your family.

Soon, you’d be back in New Jersey, driving to Brooklyn, New York, to the old apartment you still kept as a backup. It felt strange, being separated from Natasha and the kids, but you knew it was necessary. You’d regroup soon, and until then, you had to trust that Natasha could keep them hidden.

"Landing soon," Ricky said, breaking the quiet again as he checked his watch. "You ready?"

You nodded, forcing a small smile. "As ready as I’ll ever be."

*********

The familiar scent of dust and stale air hit you as you stepped into the lobby of your old apartment building. The place felt both foreign and strangely comforting. You took a moment to absorb your surroundings, noting the brand-new carpet, the fluorescent overhead lights, and the chipped paint on the walls. You could feel the weight of time pressing down as you walked towards the elevator, your suitcase dragging behind you. Your mind was racing with thoughts of Natasha and the kids, imagining them nestled safely in the Lake District while you braced for whatever Ross had planned. You had spotted the strategically placed black SUVs parked outside, and a couple of suited men standing in the lobby, their eyes scanning the room like hawks. You turned with a look over your shoulders to see Ross sitting, sifting through a magazine, as if he'd been here before.

You stepped over to him with a frown. “Ah, you’re home,” he said nonchalantly, his eyes flicking up to meet yours.

“I don’t need a welcome committee,” You shot back, crossing your arms over your shoulders. “Nice job tailing me from the airport. Stalking is a new low for you.”

Ross set the magazine down, a smirk playing on his lips. “You know, I wouldn’t have to if you weren’t hiding Natasha. You’ve got a lot of connections. It’s no wonder you managed to evade us for so long.”

You narrowed your eyes at him, feeling annoyance flare within you. “I don’t know what you’re talking about. I've been right here this whole time."

“Is that so?” Ross leaned back in his chair, feigning casual interest. "So, what have you been up to then? Any good stories?"

"No, and even if there were, I wouldn't tell you."

"Well, I suppose we can catch up later," Ross said, his tone growing more serious. "Does your wife have anything to do with the underwater prison being broken into? I'm missing a few fugitives."

"Underwater prison?" You repeated, keeping your voice steady. "What are you talking about? Is that ethical?"

"Oh, please," Ross replied, rolling his eyes. "We both know who you're protecting. Don't play dumb. Coming from seeing her?"

“I’m flying home from seeing a family friend who’s sick,” You replied, trying to sound convincing while suppressing the urge to roll your eyes. You knew he’d probably try to verify your story, but you were counting on his arrogance. “If you want to waste your time interrogating me, fine. But I don’t have any information for you.”

“Really? You expect me to believe you don’t know where she is? The way you’ve been so careful, it’s obvious you’re hiding something.” Ross’s tone shifted slightly, the menace lurking beneath his words bubbling to the surface.

"Hmm," You tilted your head. "You're grasping at straws."

Ross let out a dry laugh, irritation flashing across his face. “You know, it’s funny. I would’ve expected you to be smarter. You can’t keep hiding her forever. If you don’t cooperate, you’ll go down with her.”

“So, you gave me a week to what? Come and threaten me in person?” You crossed your arms defiantly, refusing to let his intimidation tactics rattle you.

“No, not really. I came to give you a warning,” Ross replied, his voice taking on a dangerous edge. “You can either turn over the location of your wife or face the consequences. Do you think she would be happy if you did time for her?”

“Is that your big threat? Jail time?” You laughed lightly, shaking your head. “Because if that’s all you’ve got, Ross, then you really are losing your touch. I know exactly what she would want me to do, and it wouldn’t involve betraying her.”

Ross’s expression darkened, his frustration bubbling just beneath the surface. “You’re playing a dangerous game, y/n.”

“And you’re still failing to realize just how far I’m willing to go to protect myself. You think you can intimidate me? You think you can scare me? You’re mistaken,” You shot back, your voice steady and confident.

He leaned forward, his eyes narrowing, a vein twitching at his temple. “You don’t know what you’re up against. You’re just a pawn in a game far bigger than you can comprehend.”

“Maybe,” you said, leaning closer, matching his intensity. “But I’m not the one who’s seething with frustration because I can’t find my target. How does that feel, Ross? To be outmaneuvered by someone you underestimated?” You could see the anger boiling in his expression, the way his hands clenched into fists.

Ross glared at you, seething, but you pressed on. “Every second you waste on me is a second closer to you losing your grip. I may not know where Natasha is, but I know how to keep you off balance. You're here because you’re afraid of what might happen if you push too hard. I’ve got everything to lose, and you’re just a cog in the machine.”

“You’ll regret this,” he spat, his voice low and threatening.

“No, Ross, I think you will,” you said, your gaze unwavering. “You’ve already lost, and the more you pursue this, the worse it’s going to get for you. You’re not just after Natasha; you’re threatening her family. That’s a game you’ll never win.”

You turned away from him, leaving him with nothing but his seething anger and the echo of your words hanging in the air. You had taken the upper hand, and for now, that was enough to give you a bit of hope in this twisted game. You finally took a deep breath as you stepped into the apartment you hadn't been in years.

Your footsteps echoed on the hardwood floor as you moved further into the apartment. The familiar scent of dust and stale air drifted around you, mixing with the lingering scent of old books and lavender. You'd asked the housekeeper, courtesy of your own connections, to light candles and make it smell as lived-in as possible. As you moved further into the room, the sunlight streaming through the windows cast long shadows on the floor, and the memories came flooding back.

The apartment was smaller than the one you'd shared with Natasha, but the space was still comfortable and well-appointed. You could remember the first time you'd brought Natasha here, the way her eyes had widened as she took in the view of the city from the living room windows. She'd looked at you with a soft smile, the warmth in her gaze taking your breath away. It had been a simpler time then, before the chaos of the Avengers, the Accords, and all the pain and suffering that followed.

You moved further into the apartment, glancing around at the sparsely furnished rooms. A small kitchen with a worn countertop, a living room with a single sofa, and a bedroom with a queen-sized bed. The furniture was basic, and the only real decoration was a vase of flowers on the kitchen table. It was a far cry from the luxury of your home in Missouri or even Versailles but it would do for now. You just needed to spend a week here and things would blow over.

You dropped your bag on the floor and moved to the bedroom, flopping down on the mattress. The bed was firm and the sheets were clean, which was all that mattered. You closed your eyes, letting out a long sigh. The past few days had been a whirlwind, and it was finally catching up to you. The weight of the situation was sinking in, and you could feel the tension mounting.

You lay there for a moment, taking stock of everything. Thoughts of Ross crept back into your mind, that encounter still fresh. You could still see the way he had leaned forward, his anger barely contained. You’d managed to hold your ground, but the threats loomed heavy over you like a storm cloud. The thought of him lurking around, watching your every move, made your skin crawl. You didn’t want to think about what might happen if he managed to uncover Natasha's location.

You rolled onto your back, staring up at the ceiling, forcing yourself to breathe deeply. You reminded yourself that Natasha was safe for now, tucked away in the Lake District with the kids. As long as you could keep Ross off their trail, they’d remain untouched. That was your priority, and it had to be enough to keep you focused.

You pushed yourself off the bed and walked back into the living room, taking a moment to assess your surroundings. You needed to make this place feel like home, at least for the time being. You moved to the kitchen, rifling through the cupboards to see what you could find. It was mostly empty, but a few essentials remained—some instant coffee, a box of cereal, and a half-empty jar of peanut butter.

With a shrug, you grabbed the coffee, thankful for even that small comfort. As you prepared the drink, the familiar aroma began to fill the air. You went through every nook and cranny of the apartment to ensure it wasn't bugged. The last thing you needed was Ross listening in on your conversations. When that was done, you settled down on the couch, cradling the warm mug in your hands. You let your mind wander, trying to process everything that had happened. The Accords had turned heroes into targets, painting them with a broad picture of distrust. What did this mean for Natasha? Would she be forced into hiding for good? You could picture her, always the fighter, her fiery spirit undiminished, but the constant pressure of being hunted was a different kind of battle.

The thought of her being pursued simply existing as herself—an agent, a devoted mother, and your wife—made your heartache. She had always been so committed to her beliefs and her teammates, but now that loyalty had come with a price. The idea of being forced to choose between her family and her duty as an Avenger gnawed at you.

Would she even want to return to that life? The thrill of being an Avenger seemed to dim when it came to family safety. You could imagine Natasha standing at that crossroads, the weight of her choices pressing down on her.

As you sipped your coffee, you wondered about the future. The world seemed to be changing around you, shifting like unstable ground. You hoped you would find a way to navigate this storm, but the unpredictability of it all was unsettling. You thought about the time you spent together, the laughter and love that filled your shared moments. Would you still be able to create that kind of life with all this looming over you?

Your phone buzzed, snapping you out of your thoughts. You glanced down to see a message from Natasha, and a wave of relief washed over you. You opened it eagerly, wanting to hear what she had to say.

Hey love, just checking in. We’re settling in nicely. Stella is already asking about the sheep! How's everything?

You smiled at the message, imagining Natasha sitting in the peaceful surroundings of the Lake District. Everything's fine, just got settled in. Ross showed up at the apartment, but I managed to handle him. Keeping an eye on things, don’t worry.

A few minutes later, a new message popped up. That bastard, I can't believe he tracked you down.

I'm surprised he hasn't shown up at the lake house yet, you joked, trying to keep the tone light.

You're right, he must be losing his touch. Or I'm a really great spy.

You chuckled, the brief moment of levity feeling welcome. So, how are the kids doing?

They're excited. Stella says it feels like home. Btw the number of tantrums she's had in the span of two days has been baffling.

Ah, I miss them and you already, you typed, the longing for your family bubbling to the surface.

I miss you too, Natasha replied, and you could hear the sincerity in her voice.

You bit your lip, knowing you probably shouldn't but pressing the call button anyway. She answered on the first ring. "Hey, y/n," Natasha's voice was warm and soft, like a gentle caress.

"Hi," you replied, a smile tugging at your lips. "I needed to hear your voice."

"I'm glad you called," Natasha replied, a hint of playfulness in her tone. "I was just thinking about you."

"Oh?" You teased, "What were you thinking?"

"Hmm," she hummed, and you could practically hear the smirk on her lips. "Just about how much I missed you, and how I wish we were curled up together."

You sighed softly, leaning back on the couch, "Me too."

There was a brief pause, the tension crackling in the air between you.

"How are you feeling?" Natasha asked. "You just got off a long flight."

"I'm fine," You breathed. "My breasts feel incredibly full. I should pump soon. I hope what I left is enough for Nicky."

"I'll make sure it's enough," Natasha reassured. "He's doing well too. Just a little teething."

"That's good," You nodded even though she couldn't see you. "So, you get to see Stella's tantrums live and up close."

"They're impressive," Natasha chuckled. "She's a bit like me in that regard."

"Oh?" Your eyes widened in surprise. "I didn't think I'd see the day when you admitted to being a brat."

"Hey," She said, her tone indignant. "I can admit when I'm being a brat."

You laughed, shaking your head. "Okay, fine. I can't wait to see it myself."

"Don't worry," Natasha assured a note of mischief in her voice. "We'll put on a good show for you. Seriously though what do you do when she's misbehaving?"

"I spank her," You replied.

There's a pause on the phone where you can tell Natasha is trying to process whether or not you're being serious.

"Oh my God," You couldn't help but laugh. "Natasha, I'm joking."

"Oh," She breathed, the relief evident in her voice. "I didn't know. I thought maybe you changed your mind on corporal punishment."

"Nope, she's not quite there yet," You chuckled. "But she does a good job of getting you there. I miss her."

"She misses you too," Natasha sighed, a hint of sadness creeping into her voice. "This is my first time truly being alone with them since they were babies. I'm learning so much."

"Well, we have all the time in the world to learn more," You smiled. "I'm proud of you, Nat. I know it's hard, but you're doing great."

"Thanks," She replied, a warmth in her voice. "I'll make sure the kids are taken care of. Until this blows over and we figure out something."

"I know," You said softly. "We're in this together."

"I should go," Natasha sighed. "The kids are asleep, but I'll call again later, okay?"

"Okay," You agreed. "Be safe, Nat."

"I will," She promised.

You ended the call, and you were left alone in the silence of the apartment. You took a deep breath, your mind wandering to all of the things you could do this week. It's been a year since you've been back in New York. The last time was a booty call for Natasha when she'd been craving your presence. You'd left the kids with Clint and Laura who only lived four hours away at the time.

It felt weird to be back now. You wondered what you'd even do, but the idea of being here, close to the people you cared about, was comforting.

You pushed yourself off the couch and started unpacking, putting your clothes away, and setting up the spare room.

*****

Lunch with Maria Hill was refreshing. She sat in front of you, her hair pulled back in a sleek bun, her blue eyes looking at you with concern. When she sat down in front of you, it was like she noticed every single subtle detail about you that changed. Then she asked you questions as if she was gauging your state of mind. You told her a lot, more than you probably should have. But Maria was trustworthy and had always been a good listener.

“You’ve gotten good at picking these low-profile spots, almost like you’re still in the game,” She teased.

"Well, some habits die hard, I guess," You shrugged, a small smile tugging at your lips. "And it's easier when you're not the target. Although, it doesn't stop me from feeling like a fugitive."

"That's the life of a wanted woman," Maria replied, her tone half-serious.

"Yeah," You sighed, resting your elbows on the table and leaning forward. “Even if I’m not the one being hunted.”

“I’ve heard the underwater raft went belly up a couple weeks ago,” Maria sipped from her mugs. Her eyes flashed around the room subtly.

“You knew about that?” You asked. “Am I the only one that thinks that’s a cruel prison?”

"Yeah, I don't disagree. I think a lot of things have happened that I can't control," Maria admitted. "The only thing I can control is being there for you. We may not have been in contact for years but we're still family.”

"I know, and I appreciate that. But if I'm being honest, this isn't exactly the welcome I was expecting."

"Well, things have gotten complicated," Maria said with a sigh. “Look, I don’t care what Ross or the general public thinks. I think those Accords are bullshit. But… I don’t like being kept in the dark either.”

“You mean Nick Fury doesn’t keep tabs on us after all?” You joked.

Maria chuckled, shaking her head. "He can try, but I'm the best at keeping secrets."

"Well, we can keep each other updated then," You offered. "I want to make sure my family is safe."

"Of course," Maria nodded. "So, Ross showed up, huh? Is he giving you a hard time?"

"He's trying," You huffed. "But I'm not about to roll over and play dead. This isn't the first time we've gone head-to-head. I think he's starting to realize just how far I'll go."

"Damn, you're tough," Maria chuckled.

"Well, I learned from the best," You smirked.

"You certainly did," She smiled.

"So, what are you doing these days?" You asked.

"I'm still with the U.S. Air Force for the time being. My role has shifted a little bit, but I'm still working to keep the world safe," Maria said. “Working with Stark whenever I have free time.”

"Oh, yeah? Any plans for a vacation?"

"Not really, but if you're offering, I'm sure we can figure something out," She winked. “There’s something different about you. A glow.” She mused.

You blushed slightly, shaking your head. "I think it's just the sunlight."

"Nah, it's not that," Maria grinned. "It's nice, whatever it is. Don’t tell me you’re pregnant?”

"That would be perfect timing. Wouldn’t it ?” You chuckled. “I’m not pregnant and don’t plan to be.”

"That's a shame, I think you'd make a good mother," Maria said. "But I respect your decision."

"Thanks, I appreciate that. So, how's Fury?" You asked, curious to know if she was still in touch with him.

"He's good, still the same old Nick," Maria said. "He's a busy guy, but we keep in touch. I think he's worried about you, actually."

"Me? Why would he be worried?"

"Because you're important to him," Maria shrugged. "He may not show it, but he cares."

"I'm not that important, and neither is Natasha," You said, a hint of sadness creeping into your voice. "If anything, she should be the one he's worried about."

"Look, y/n, I know he doesn't have the best track record with being upfront about everything, but he does care. And he'll always look out for those he considers family," Maria said.

"Family," You murmured. "Yeah, I guess we are."

"And even if he didn't show it, he'd always look out for you and Nat," She assured. "Just give him a chance."

"I will," You nodded.

You finished the rest of your lunch and made plans to meet again. You were glad to have Maria in your corner, especially during this chaotic time.

After parting ways, you found yourself wandering the streets, taking in the familiar sights and sounds. New York City was alive, the hustle and bustle a stark contrast to the quiet countryside of your home.

As you walked, the familiar faces and landmarks began to fade into the background. Instead, thoughts of the past began to creep in, memories you'd buried long ago resurfacing.

You thought about the times you'd spent here with Natasha. The early years of your marriage, when everything seemed new and exciting. You could remember the way her eyes would light up as she recounted her latest adventure or the way her laugh would fill the air with warmth. You missed that, the easy way you'd connected with each other, the way your bond had been so effortless.

You could see her, standing on the edge of a rooftop, the wind whipping her hair, her gaze locked on yours. That was the moment you'd fallen in love with her. She'd been so confident, so sure of herself, and yet there had been a vulnerability to her. She'd looked at you like no one else had before, her expression full of longing and hope. It was the beginning of something, a spark that would turn into a flame, a desire that would grow stronger with every passing day.

You could still feel the way your heart had raced as you'd stepped closer, drawn to her like a moth to a flame. She'd been so beautiful, so magnetic, that you'd been helpless to resist her pull. She'd kissed you then, her lips soft and sweet, and it was like everything had fallen into place. You'd known, in that moment, that this was the beginning of something special.

Now, as you wandered the streets, your memories faded and the present returned. The noise and chaos of the city was overwhelming, but you pushed through it.

******

On the other side of the world, Natasha is just finishing up clearing the dinner dishes. The kitchen is small but cozy, sunlight streaming in through the windows. Nicky is glued to her hip, babbling about something in toddler-speak, while Stella is dangling from the couch, engrossed in Peppa Pig on the television.

It's been a quiet day, and she’s was ready to turn in from the night but the calm atmosphere is interrupted by a sharp knock on the door. Natasha looked over, frowning as she made her way towards the door. She doesn’t speak. Doesn’t say a word. She simply eyed the person through the peephole. When she spots familiar brown hair, she unlocks it.

“You’re awake,” Wanda greets.

Natasha smiles.

Wanda stood there with a backpack, looking a bit nervous.

"Hi," Natasha stepped aside. "Come in."

"Sorry, I didn't call," Wanda said sheepishly.

"Don't worry about it," She shrugged. “I just finished up dinner.”

"Oh, I'm fine," Wanda shook her head. "I ate at the station."

"Well, there's leftovers," Natasha said. "So, if you get hungry.

“Thank you,” Wanda nodded.

Natasha turned towards the living room, raising her voice.

"Stella, Wanda is here," She said, gesturing to the girl behind her.

Stella glanced up from the TV, her eyes widening as she spotted the new arrival. Her grin stretched wide as she bounced over to Wanda, her little curls bouncing with each step. She barely paused before raising her arms in silent invitation. Without missing a beat, Wanda scooped her up, holding her close as she’d done a thousand times before.

“Hi, Wanda,” Stella said, her eyes shining.

“Hi,” Wanda replied softly, a smile tugging at her lips. Her eyes lit up with genuine warmth as she held the little girl in her arms.

For a moment, they just looked at each other, the air between them surprisingly comfortable. Then, in that serious way only a three-year-old could manage, Stella tilted her head and asked, “Wanda, are you okay now?”

Natasha's breath caught. Stella’s ability to sense things had always surprised her, and this was no exception. She exchanged a glance with Wanda, who looked both startled and touched by the child’s question.

“Yes, I am,” Wanda said gently, her voice just above a whisper. “Thanks for asking.”

Stella’s serious expression melted into a bright smile, and she gave Wanda a small pat on the shoulder. “I’m glad,” she said, her voice full of sincerity. As if Wanda's well-being was the only thing in the world that mattered to her.

Wanda’s gaze shifted to Natasha, the question in her eyes clear without her needing to speak it. How does she know?

Natasha shrugged a faint smile on her lips. “She picks up on things,” she guessed quietly. Stella had always been sensitive, attuned to emotions in a way Natasha couldn’t quite explain. It made her both proud and protective.

“Mama,” Stella piped up, breaking the silent exchange between the two women, “can I play?”

Natasha smiled at her daughter, grateful for how children could easily shift between the serious and the simple. “Yes, you can.”

Without hesitation, Stella wiggled out of Wanda’s arms and ran over to the pile of toys scattered across the living room floor, already chattering to Wanda about which ones she’d play with first.

Natasha watched her for a moment before turning back to Wanda, whose gaze was still fixed on the little girl. There was something soft in Wanda’s expression, a kind of wonder Natasha hadn’t seen in her for a long time. It tugged at something deep in her chest, a feeling that was part relief and part nostalgia.

The sound of Wanda's voice snapped Natasha back to the present.

"Sorry for not calling, I just wanted to check on you," Wanda apologized.

"It's fine," Natasha assured. "I want to make sure you're safe too."

"Thanks," She nodded. "Where's y/n?"

"In New York," She gestured for Wanda to follow her into the kitchen away from prying eyes. She placed Nicky into his high chair, silently cheering when he didn't protest. "Hoping to show her face and throw Ross off a little bit."

"I can't believe he tracked her down," Wanda huffed, rolling her eyes.

"Yeah, well, he's relentless. And stupid," Natasha muttered.

"True," Wanda agreed. "Is this all because of me? Right, what I did? He really wants me."

"It's not just because of what you did, Wanda. It's what we did," Natasha corrected. "It's a combination of things, really. He's just trying to regain some power. But don't worry, y/n can handle him."

"I'm not worried about y/n, I'm worried about her," Wanda gestured towards the living room where Stella is still playing. "What if he finds out about them?"

"He won't," Natasha promised. "And even if he does, we'll figure it out. We will have a plan. We always do."

Wanda's expression relaxed a bit, her posture visibly loosening. "You and y/n make me feel like a person."

"Well, you're always welcome here," Natasha said softly. "Or wherever we are in the world."

Wanda gave her a warm smile before changing the subject. "So, how are things going?"

"We're doing alright," Natasha sighed, her gaze falling to the floor. "I know the moving around gets to her a little. It's complicated."

"Of course, I understand. You just need to lay low until this all blows over," Wanda nodded.

"Exactly," Natasha agreed. "I've gotten used to it. I mean, I've been running my entire life, but this is different."

"It is," Wanda agreed. "But you're not alone. We're here for you."

"Thank you," Natasha breathed. "It means a lot. How long are you here for?"

"Just the night," Wanda licked her lips. "I plan to meet back up with Vision."

"Vision?" Natasha smirked, arching an eyebrow.

Wanda blushed. "He's my partner. Is that weird? Since he's kind of older?"

"Well, he's a robot for one. Two, is it romantic or is it..."

"I'm not sure," Wanda shrugged. "There's definitely a connection there. We're friends, but we're more than that too. I'm not sure where it will lead, but I'm curious."

"That's a good place to start," Natasha hummed.

"He's different," Wanda sighed. "He doesn't know how to be a person, but he's trying. It's nice."

"You're a good teacher," Natasha smiled. "Just be careful, okay?"

"I will," Wanda promised.

Natasha nodded, her gaze drifting towards the living room, where Stella was carrying a bunch of her toys to bring to Wanda.

"Wanda, look at what I found," She said proudly, holding out the toy for inspection.

"That's a nice frog," Wanda complimented, a grin stretching across her lips.

"It's a turtle," Stella corrected a hint of mischief in her tone. "His paint has just come off a little bit."

"My mistake," Wanda laughed.

"Come on," Stella tugged on Wanda's hand, leading her to the couch. "We're playing dress up."

Natasha sat back in her chair, a soft smile tugging at her lips. She couldn't wait for you to come home.

The next morning, Wanda is on her way, leaving Natasha with a hug that would last for a while.

"Call if you need anything," She said. "I'll try and keep my ears open."

"Thank you," Natasha sighed.

Wanda smiled, her gaze lingering on the kids before she turned and walked away.

"Wanda," Natasha called out. "Be careful. Stay close. "

"I will," Wanda promised.

Natasha closed the door, watching as the redhead left the home. She needed you to be home.

***********

The house was silent when you pushed open the front door, your movements careful and quiet. You stepped inside, half-expecting to hear the usual sounds of chaos that accompanied a house with two small children—Stella’s giggles or Nicky’s babbling. But tonight, there was nothing but the soft hum of the wind outside.

You tiptoed through the living room, your eyes scanning for any sign of life, but it seemed like the house was asleep. Your heart warmed at the thought—they must have had a busy day. As you made your way toward the bedroom, you paused at the door, gently pushing it open.

There, sprawled across the bed, was Natasha. Nicky lay curled against her side in nothing but a diaper, his tiny fists clutching onto her shirt as if she were his anchor. Stella was draped across Natasha’s chest, wearing a too-small sleep dress that barely reached her knees, and only one sock clung to her foot. Her curls were a wild mess around her face, and every now and then, she would let out a soft, contented sigh in her sleep.

You smiled at the sight, taking a moment to appreciate how peaceful they all looked. You leaned against the doorway, taking in the scene. It was so different from when they were babies when their days were spent crying and needing to be fed or changed. Now, they were growing into their own personalities, their needs shifting to accommodate those personalities.

Your heart swelled with love as you watched them sleep, knowing that no matter how much the world changed, your family would remain constant.

You quietly made your way into the room, careful not to disturb the sleeping pair. As you leaned over to kiss Nicky's forehead, the floorboard creaked under your feet, causing him to stir slightly.

"Mama," He whined.

"Shh," You whispered, scooping him into your arms. Natasha woke at the sudden change of weight.

"Oh, you're back," She murmured.

"Hey, sleepyhead," You grinned. "Did you have a busy day?"

"Yeah," She sighed, running a hand through her hair. "Wrangling toddlers is way harder than fighting evil."

"You're telling me," You bounced Nicky in your arms. "How are you feeling?"

"Tired," Natasha admitted, her voice low.

"Why don't you go back to sleep," You suggested. "I'll be here."

"Okay," Natasha closed her eyes again, the stress of the day catching up to her. "Y/n?"

"Yes?"

"Welcome home."

You smiled.

"It's good to be back."

---> next part

#natasha romanoff #black reader #natasha x reader #black widow x reader #black widow x female reader #natasha romanov #natasha x you #afamilyofherownau

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lilacprincess7 · 1 month ago

Text

"Godhood"

a/n: I cannot understand how he killed Jason without even giving us a prequel of his life as a book

summary: in which Percy fell to Tartarus on his own and returned with extreme powers just like Nico and Jason fell down during another quest. That gets a 3/3 for the sons of the big three and let's just say that they're all growing restless. All three of these falls having two things in common: the three baring the curse of Achilles and becoming the champions of Lady Nyx

warnings: bloodbending, nervebending, bonebending, gore, weapons, panic/ anxiety attacks, talks about tartarus.

🌊⚡💀

The floor had started cracking and screeching under all this pressure. Hazel yelled at Percy to 'cut it' and he did, a moment too late, with more momentum than wanted. He found himself grabbing onto a ledge, holding on for dear life.

"Nico, I'll see you on the other side. Lead them there! Promise me!" Percy yelled in order to be heard, not wanting his possible last words to be swallowed too by the pit.

"I-I will, I promise Percy, I will." Nico replied shaken up.

"Percy noo, hang in there Jason and Frank are coming, they're going to save you, please don't give up yet, don't fall down there... I can't lose you again..." said Annabeth, desperation painting her voice.

"They will be shacked in too 'Beth, they can't help... It's my destiny to fall, it's gonna be okay, trust me, I'll come back to you, I love you"

And just like that he was gone. They tried to be positive. Nico and Jason shared a gut feeling. That their cousin would come back tougher and they ended up right.

Percy dealt with whatever that discusting place threw at him. Arachne, gone. Curses, surpassed. Akhlys dead, poisoned with her own poison. He even went to the river of Styx and got back the curse of Achilles and became the champion of Nyx. He fought Tartarus along side Bob, small Bob and Damasen. He used Tartarus' own blood, the 5 rivers, to hurt him and it worked. The three friends and their cat manage to escape just fine, Nyx guarding the button as her champion made it back home. And when they got out all hell broke loose. They helped the rest of the seven on the journey and they managed to beat Gaia.

However, only two people were informed about Percy's new powers. After the battle, when everything was settled, they little big three sat by the sea. The only place were all three of their domains blended together. The sky above, Jason's to command, the sea between Percy's to control, the earth beneath Nico's to rule. All three every bit of the princes their fathers thought them to be.

"My powers grew down there... I don't know how to explain it, but I suddenly feel whole. Like a part of me was missing." Percy admitted

"Yeah, I get it, that's how I felt down there two, like my powers got doubled" Nico continued

"So that means that I'm the only one left along with the girls." Jason thought aloud.

"I don't think they are going to be dragged into this, whatever this is..." trailed Nico, the fingers of his right hand twiching, that hand that bared the branding of Nyx, just like Percy's own

"Ahh, what can I say? Maybe if I fall I'll finally get all my memories back.." Jason said laughing a little, his cousins joining in. They just sat there for a while. The company somehow calming.

🌊⚡💀

Little did they know that Jason's words would ring true after a couple of months. He had gone on a solo quest to retreive something for his father. Things took a nasty turn when he had to deal with Mnemosyne. She promised him, as the titaness of memory, to give him his memory back if he dropped this quest. He was never going to dissapoint his father like this. Jupiter entrusted him with an extremely personal quest. He would do whatever it took to carry it through.

The 'whatever it took' ended up being falling into the pit. By the time he got out his memory had come back. His right hand matching those of his cousins. He learned how to nervebend down there, how to suffocate living creatures with his mind. How to electrocute someone's brain.

🌊⚡💀

After Jason returned the three hanged out more and more. Doing everything together. As the only big three kids at camp, the did all the activities together. Training became even better. They could often be seen having three way battles in the arena, or even visiting New Rome's colluseum for a more formal fight. Chiron was often called to referee, as the boys accepted his judjement better. Other times, Lupa would be the one to referee, just for fun. She enjoyed seeing the 'cub' she had raised have fun alongside his cousins.

Hardly ever was there a clear winner between the three, they didn't mind it though. Most of the time they would start with no powers, slowly they would add things as they progressed into their little play. At this point, it was almost theatrical. And there were always other campers watching.

The trio learned how to fight in tandem. At some point, there was a capture the flag where it was them three against the whole camp. Chiron was asking the opposite team if they wanted to rethink their desicion, but Annabeth wouldn't badge, saying that they had every possible advantage and since the trio was fine why should they go against such a decision. Little did they know that Chiron asked them for their own protection.

The three never revealed that they were champions of Nyx to the camp, only Chiron and Lupa knew. So when Friday night rolled around th big three kids were ready. Nico stayed back, guarding the flag from afar. Blending with the shadows easily. After Nyx blessed him he stopped fading into them and was able to control them better. He was not afraid of them anymore, the shadows acted protective around him now, regenerating him.

In record breaking time his cousins came back with the flag of the other team drapped arounf their shoulders. They went up to him and hugged him tight, celebrating like little kids.

"PERSEUS JACKSON!!!" came the voice of one Annabeth Chase, and let me tell you she sounded angry.

"HOW just HOW did you idiots win??" she almost growled

"What do you mean 'Beth?" Percy responded innocently

"Yeah what you on about, 'Beth?" Jason teased her.

The trio walked away, Annabeth and her sblings were left fuming over the humiliating loss. The rest were just shocked.

"Chiron, this can't go on!" Annabeth sceramed

"Hmmm? Come again kid? What happened? I didn't see anything against the rules..." Chiron replied calmly.

"Yes and you mean to telm me there was nothing? And these three dufuses managed to somehow beat the whole camp this easy? Nico was almost sleeping!" Annabeth expressed

"My dear, I suggest you asked them about this, maybe take Piper and Will with you too..."

🌊⚡💀

Annabeth adn the other two went looking for the big three kids. They wanted some kind of explanation. And where did they find them? By the sea, smoking some cigarrets.

"What are you three doing??" Piper asked, clearly pissed off.

"What do you mean?" replied Jason, a peaceful look on his face.

"What is going on? You three win a match against the whole camp easy and then you disappear and we find you smoking by the sea." Will argued

"Well, it's not like we are going to die from smoking..." said Percy already laughing a bit. Jason tried to cover it but ended up rolloing on the floor alongside Nico.

"Can we have an actual conversation?" Annabeth asked.

"Tomorrow morning" Nico suggestes, after he stopped laughing

"We swear we wil behave and tell you everything." Percy stated

They said their goodnights and went to sleep in Cabin 3. Their fathers finally okay with each other and each others kids, not that Poseidon ever attempted to kill his nephews or his nieces.

🌊⚡💀

When the next day rolled around, the trio waited post-breakfast to meet up with their lovers and explain everything. They found themselves sitting by the strawberry fields. Annabeth, ever curious, was the one to prod for information.

"So, who is going to explain what's going on?"

"Should I start guys?" questioned Jason

"Yep" came a reply from Percy, who tried to act calm.

"Okay, please don't interupt me. So you know how all of us had a trip down to the pit a some point. Well, we all came back having the same feeling, like we were finally whole, like a part of our powers was unlocked down there and it was. You see all three of us bare the curse of Achilles and became the champions of Nyx. We hid it well, but we also gained new powers. Creepy powers. Uncontrolable. Untameable. To the point we had a meeting with our fathers because of it."

"The news are at the very least concerning. You see they confirmed a suspicion we had." continued Percy

"Come on guys, say it" Will prompted

"We are turning" Nico said lightly, even thoughanxiety danced in his dark eyes

"You are turning into what?" Piper asked, not getting what was being said.

By now, Annabeth was pale in the face.

"You-you are turning into gods, aren't you? How-w? Why-y?"

"'Beth there is nothing we can do to stop the proccess. With our fathers' calculation we will have turned by the end of the summer... So we accepted it..."

"You-you can't be serious!" Annabeth was left speachless after this. She got up and started walking in circles. Mutering to herself...

The alarm of the camp was heard. Everyone got on their feet, leaving this talk behind until this threat was dealt with. However, the attack was not something just everyone could handle, no. They headed down to the beach and realized the attacker was the Craken.

The three demigods leapt into action without second thought. They worked in sync with one another so perfectly it looked like a dance. Jason was flying while stabbing the enormous monster. Percy used the sea to make a pillar of water while he attacked the monster too. Nico was riding a thestral, a magical horse that looked like a pegasus with the difference that it had a skeletal look to it and that only people who had seen death could see it, to help his cousins.

They soon realized that the monster wasn't going to be defeated by mere swords. They started using their powers. Jason and Pecry made a storm, combining their powers perfectly. With a storm so huge the sun was soon covered. Nico used it to his advantage, taking the shadows under his command and tieing the creature up. He bended many of its bones so it wouldn't be able to hurt him and his cousins while they were killing it.

The other two understood Nico's plan immediately. Percy started bloodbending and liquidbending everything he could feel inside the Craken. Jason took control over the nerves of the monster deaming it impossible to move. Within a couple more minutes, the monster was golden dust and the three, now exhausted, demigods fell into the sea.

🌊⚡💀

The trio was taken to the infirmary and Chiron after realizing the gravity of the situation contacted the big three about their sons. The three gods quickly visited the camp to understand what exactly had happened and what was going on with their kids.

"They are close, I can feel it.." Hades muttered to his two brothers, looking concerned for his son and his nephews.

"We should transport them. When they change they shouldn't be around mortals. Besides, it's going to take a while before the transformation is complete. We have to monitor them" Poseidon expressed.

"I think the best solution is to take the to Olympus. That way Apollo can treat them and monitor their progress and we can see them and visit them."

"I agree that it's the best option" Hades said

"Me three"

They informed Chiron and teleported with their sons away. Apollo was stunned to say the least. He agreed that this desicion was the best for the three soon-to-be gods.

🌊⚡💀

The days passed by. The campers weren't informed about the situation and Annabeth was growing restless. Will had told her what he knew but Chiron refused to say anything about the matter. In the end Annabeth, will and Piper ended up outside the Empire State Building to learn about their lovers.

They found the big three sitting by a fountain in the common gardens. As politely as possible they decided to question them regarding the whereabouts of their lovers.

"My Lords" Annabeth greeted

"Hello" came the reply of Poseidon while the other two nodded their way kindly.

"What's the reason of this unexpected visit?" Hades asked calmly.

"We want to know what is going on with our lovers.. you know your sons?" Piper said tense and anxious. She hadn't been sleeping well due to this whole ordeal.

"They're resting in Apollo's infirmary. We will guide you there under some conditions" Zeus said

"What are these conditions my Lords?" Will questioned

"You must not get too close to either of them. They are turning and even a minor thing can cause problems for their well-being. That's why we transporte them. You need to be careful because if they turn while you are in the room you could die" Hades explained

"We can protect you up to a point but we still don't know just how powerful they will become. When a god turns, no one else should be present."

They started walking towards Apollo's palace. Said god was standing outside, chatting with one of the Muses.

"Apollo stop flirting and come here, we want an update!" Poseidon shouted at his nephew.

"Uncle, don't be so angry. Your mood messes with the weather and I cannot be seen"

"Kid just behave for 5 minutes and update us then be on your way or whatever." Hades cut in, not wanting an argument to break through. With how antsy his brothers were it was quite easy to happen.

🌊⚡💀

a/n: thoughts so far? I'll do a part 2 if you liked it

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sissyisawitch · 2 years ago

Text

Christmas at Home

Part 2 of I'll Be Home For Christmas (link)

Relationship: Sebastian Sallow x f!MC

Summary: Ten years later, MC has a home, a family, and a husband. What does a traditional Christmas look like for her now?

Word Count: ~6.4k

Warnings: Tooth rotting Christmas fluff 🎅🎄

Author's Note: Requested by @mochiglow . Plus I wanted to write one last Christmas story before the end of the year (yes, once again, I had to rush to get the story out in time). As always, I hope you'll enjoy it! And I wish you lots of love for the year ahead💕

The room was shrouded in the soft glow of dawn, and MC found herself caught in the liminal space between sleep and wakefulness. Tossing and turning, her mind danced on the edge of dreams and reality, a swirl of thoughts and anxieties tugging at her subconscious. The weight of the night seemed to lift when, in that vulnerable moment, she inhaled a familiar scent that wrapped around her like a comforting embrace—Sebastian’s scent.

MC's senses gradually anchored to the reassuring fragrance that enveloped her. With a sigh, she opened her eyes to be met with her husband's naked torso. She had been waking up to the same sight for ten years to the day, ever since that memorable Christmas when they had met by sheer happenstance, and ended up confessing their feelings for each other. After leaving Anne and Ominis's house after dinner, MC had gone back to sleep at Sebastian's house in Hogsmeade, and that time, they had slept together in the same bed. From that day on, the two lovebirds had never left each other's side. MC had immediately moved in with Sebastian, having nowhere else to go after leading a nomadic and adventurous life. Sebastian had supported her every step of the way, helping her to find a job and to buy more possessions than what was in her suitcase (because she did in fact travel light).

In short, Sebastian had been the most incredible boyfriend, the most loving and patient partner, as well as the most reliable and unconditional support.

Thank Merlin he had been there to help MC get used to her new life of routine, because it had not been easy every day. Still, she was grateful to have overcome all these trials and tribulations, and especially to have done so alongside Sebastian, because it had brought her to the present moment. For ten years, she had had the privilege of waking up surrounded by the strong arms of the man she cherished more than anything else in the world, and witnessing the marks of time embedding into him: how his beard was fuller than before, how the patch of hair on his chest had widened and darkened, how his shoulders had broadened. But if there was one thing that remained unchanged, it was how madly in love Sebastian was with MC, and how he never failed to prove it to her.

Drawing solace from the gentle rise and fall of his chest, MC shifted closer to him – if that was even possible – seeking even more contact with his warmth, which, as always, miraculously succeeded in making all her nervousness vanish.

As if attuned to her restlessness, Sebastian stirred awake and instinctively tightened his hold around her petite figure.

“You’re up early.” Sebastian said with his husky morning voice, his eyes still heavy with sleep.

“I didn't sleep very well.” MC admitted while bringing her hands up to rest on his chest.

He placed a delicate kiss to her forehead, before looking at her, his gaze tender and filled with a quiet understanding, “I know you. You're stressing about today because you want everything to be perfect.”

“That must be it, yes…” She replied absently, mindlessly tracing the freckles that adorned his collarbones.

MC was not sure how, but the whole family had decided that for the first time, the Christmas festivities would be held at MC and Sebastian's house, instead of at Anne and Ominis' in Feldcroft as in all the other years.

“You don't have to worry, you know. We're not asking you to make a big feast. Besides, whatever you prepare, I know it'll be brilliant.” Sebastian continued to try and reassure her, still flashing his radiant smile.

MC made no response. Instead, she preferred to nestle her head in the crook of his neck and place tender kisses along his skin, moving her lips as slowly as possible to fully appreciate the taste of him. Fortunately, Sebastian did not question why his wife was being particularly cuddly this morning. He simply tightened his grip on her waist, his fingers digging into her flesh through her satin nightdress, while his other hand moved down her thigh to trace invisible shapes and caress her skin.

“I love you, Sebastian.” She declared all too solemnly.

He chuckled at her confession, which came out of nowhere, but which he never tired of hearing, “I love you too, darling.”

After all these years together, Sebastian still marvelled at how the soft contours of their bodies moulded perfectly into one another, as if they had truly been made for each other down to the very last detail. Limbs entwined and hearts beating in unison, they both revelled in each other's quiet, yet soothing presence… That was until Sebastian could no longer resist his ardour.

With two fingers under her chin, he tilted MC's face until their eyes met. Without wasting a second, Sebastian claimed her plump lips, kissing her languorously, all the while taking his time, as if he were discovering her for the first time. The way he sucked and nibbled her lips with fervour made MC realise that he was hungry for more than just breakfast.

MC let out several keen moans, which fuelled Sebastian's passion. He could not stop running his hands over every inch of her body, his electric touch setting her skin on fire. Sebastian's next move would have been to roll on top of his wife to pin her to the mattress... if only he had not been stopped short by the creak of their bedroom door being opened, followed by the patter of little feet.

Sebastian let out a deep growl and fell back onto his side of the bed, while MC giggled at his reaction.

"Mummy! Daddy! Wake up, it's Christmas!" Their son, Theodore, exclaimed with uncontainable excitement, like a burst of energy dispelling the lingering tranquillity. Sebastian and MC, still wrapped in the warmth of each other, exchanged a fond smile.

Oblivious to the interrupted moment, the five-year-old clambered onto the bed with a gleeful grin, and squeezed himself between his parents, joining their intertwined embrace.

“I can't wait for Father Christmas to come! I told him I want a big dragon this year!” Their son's voice bubbled with the magic of the holiday.

MC exchanged a glance with Sebastian, amused by their son's earnest Christmas wish, "A dragon, huh?" She teased. "That's a pretty big request, Theo. Are you sure you have enough space for a dragon in your room?"

Theo’s eyes narrowed as he contemplated the logistics, "Well, maybe a baby dragon? They're smaller, right?"

Sebastian chuckled, "We'll see what Santa can do, buddy.”

“Can we send him a letter to ask him to come sooner?” Theo asked eagerly.

Sebastian ruffled his son's unruly chestnut hair – the same one as him, “Easy there, little elf. You know he only comes once the whole family is together. Otherwise, it wouldn't be fair on Aunt Anne and Uncle Ominis. They wanna see him too.”

The child pouted, understanding his father's answer, but clearly dissatisfied with it all the same.

MC took her child in her arms and stood up, "Come on, young man. Let's get out of bed, and eat breakfast first. Then we’ll get ready, and I promise you won’t see time go by."

The family descended the stairs into the living room, which was bathed in Christmas atmosphere, with the tremendous tree shining brightly, the stockings hanging on the mantelpiece, and the dining table adorned with festive decorations, ready to welcome guests for a feast.

Luckily for MC, Theo was a real glutton like his father, so it was not difficult to convince him to eat. Nevertheless, like his mother this time, he was a real chatterbox. While they were all eating, Theo could not stop talking about the potential presents he was going to get. Overwhelmed with excitement, he kept chattering away, often with his mouth full, and MC had to remind him several times that this was impolite.

After breakfast, the family retreated to their respective corners of the house to get dressed in their festive best for the special occasion. Sebastian, who had quickly put on his outfit, went to help his son put on his Christmas attire which consisted of a green tartan shirt, red trousers with braces and a matching bow tie.

Meanwhile, MC put on a little make-up and slipped on her black velvet dress which had a V-neckline bordered by lace that matched the one decorating the cuffs of its long sleeves. The bust was fitted at the waist, and the skirt was flowing but still close enough to the body to outline the graceful curves of MC's body.

Sebastian appeared suddenly, and hugged MC from behind, making her jump slightly, “You’re gorgeous as always, my love. You never fail to take my breath away.”

MC turned around to take a look at him, clad in black trousers and shirt, with only a forest green tie for a touch of colour. It was rather simple but it always seemed to do the trick to make MC weak in the knees. Especially when he rolled his sleeves up to his elbows, showing off his strong forearms, with freckles scattered among the hair, and veins bulging out of his tanned skin.

She devoured him with her eyes, a smirk plastered on her lips, “Thank you. You’re quite handsome yourself, you know.”

His hands started from between her shoulder blades, then travelled down her body, exploring the small of her back, the curves of her hips, until they landed on the soft pulp of her ass. He let out a throaty growl, “Merlin, I never get tired of this dress. I love the way it shows off your hips. Makes me wanna rip it right off to see the real deal underneath.”

Ashamed that he still managed to make her blush like a shy schoolgirl after so many years of marriage, MC pushed him away and turned her head to hide the scarlet tint in her cheekbones, “Keep your hands to yourself, Mister.”

“Oh, come on, you’re no fun. Let's just carry on with what we started earlier, while we can.” Sebastian whimpered as he tried to catch her.

Any protestations about having a lot on her plate and a meal to prepare, died on the tip of MC's tongue, as Sebastian snaked his hands around her waist, tracing his fingers down to her private parts. Even through her layers of clothing, his experienced touch was enough to ignite a passionate fire that warmed her core.

It would have been fun to keep going... if only they had not been interrupted by a sudden piercing scream coming from the living room.

Fear gripped both MC and Sebastian’s hearts as they raced downstairs, the staircase resounding with the loud thump of their hurried footsteps. The living room came into view, and their eyes immediately sought out their son, dreading that something had happened to him.

To their relief, he stood near the window, his face pressed against the glass, and his excitement turned the initial scream into joyful laughter, "Mummy, Daddy, look! It's snowing! It's really snowing!" He exclaimed, pointing at the delicate flakes dancing in the winter air.

Relief washed over MC and Sebastian when they saw that nothing serious had happened. However, their respite was short-lived, because the next moment, Theo was throwing a tantrum to be allowed to play outside.

Unable to resist his son's demands and desires, Sebastian, bundled up in a warm winter coat, led Theo out into the garden where a pristine blanket of snow awaited. Laughter echoed through the quiet air as father and son dove into the wintry playground, crafting a snowman with gleeful enthusiasm. The garden became a canvas for their snowy adventures, a scene of joyous bonding and shared laughter.

From the cozy warmth of the kitchen, MC observed the heartwarming spectacle unfolding outside. As she chopped vegetables and tended to the simmering pots, her gaze lingered on the snowy tableau framed by the window. The sight of Sebastian and Theo engaged in a spirited snowball fight filled her with gratitude. She marvelled at the twists of fate that had brought them here, realizing that, had they not moved in this house in Marunweem, this idyllic scene might have remained an unfulfilled wish.

MC and Sebastian's Hogsmeade cottage had rapidly become too cramped when ideas of marriage and children began to blossom in their minds. So, two Christmases later, Sebastian surprised MC with the house of her dreams in the hamlet of Marunweem. That evening, after showing her around the first floor with its many bedrooms that would accommodate possible guests or their future children, the vast living room with its welcoming fireplace, and the light-filled kitchen, Sebastian took MC out into the garden to admire the remarkable view over the lake of Marunweem. And when MC turned to thank her boyfriend, he was down on one knee, asking her to have him for the rest of his life, in the middle of the garden where they got married the following summer.

MC had just finished preparing Christmas dinner, a smile playing on her lips as she soaked in the warmth of the kitchen and the beauty of the snowy tableau outside, when an unexpected wave of dizziness swept over her, leaving her momentarily disoriented. The room seemed to sway, and she felt a sudden need to sit down. Lowering herself to the kitchen floor, she steadied her breath, attempting to shake off the unsettling sensation. In the midst of her momentary weakness, the world outside the window transformed into a blurred mosaic.

Sebastian, engaged in snowy merriment with Theo, glanced back toward the house. When he no longer saw MC at the window, a subtle dismay overcame him. Instinctively, he grabbed his son in his arms and rushed back inside, his heart pounding with worry.

Finding MC on the kitchen floor, Sebastian hurried to get their son out of the room, lest he too worry about his mother and start crying.

"Go take off your coat and shoes, and stay in the living room, little lad. I'll join you right after."

"Yes, Daddy."

Once Theo had gone, Sebastian knelt beside his wife, concern etched on his face, "Darling, what happened? Are you okay?"

With a reassuring smile, MC nodded, “I'm fine, just a dizzy spell. But it's gone now.”

Obviously, her words did not get through his thick skull, and failed to reassure him, because Sebastian was still visibly worried, “Come on, hold on to me. I'll take you to rest on the sofa.”

Before she could protest, Sebastian slipped one hand under her knees, and used the other to support her back as he lifted her off the ground and carried her bridal style. In order not to fall, MC had no choice but to lean fully against his chest (not that she was complaining, since she even took the opportunity to rest her head against his shoulder and get a whiff of his strong cologne).

Sebastian then tightened his embrace around her, making sure she was safe and secure in his arms. MC was by no means surprised by how overprotective he was with her. He had always acted that way with her, even when they were mere friends at Hogwarts, so she knew that it was not after so many years that he was going to start changing.

As promised, he carried her into the living room, where their son was settled at the coffee table while drawing, and deposited her on the plush sofa with the utmost delicacy, as if she were the most fragile and valuable treasure in the world, threatening to shatter into a thousand pieces at the slightest breeze, “There you go. And I don't want you to move from here. You'll only be allowed to get up and sit at the table when dinner starts.”

“Seb, I'm not made of glass.” MC tried to argue.

“No, but you're tired. You didn't sleep well last night, you shouldn't have been cooking on your feet all morning.” He replied, his voice filled with a mixture of fear and genuine care. “You should have asked me to help you, I could have prepared the meal.”

An amused scoff escaped MC, “Sure.”

“What? I’m not that bad at cooking.” Sebastian took on a false air of offence.

MC only stared at him with raised eyebrows, waiting for him to face what they both knew to be the truth.

Sebastian sighed, before letting out a light chuckle, “Yeah, you’re right. I’m a bloody menace in the kitchen.”

MC joined in his laughter, when a knock resounded at the front door, signalling the arrival of their guests. MC, instinctively moving to rise and greet them, felt Sebastian's firm hand gently but decisively press on her shoulder, urging her to stay seated.

"What did I tell you? Don’t you even dare think about standing up." He sternly ordered her. Concern etched his features as he looked into her eyes, silently pleading her to prioritise her well-being.

Sebastian then rose to answer the door. Their friends, adorned in festive attire, entered with smiles that instantly brightened the room. MC, who was still seating in the living room, could hear greetings and laughter from afar. After giving them all a hug, Sebastian directed his gaze towards his wife, giving her a knowing look. MC nodded to let him know she understood, then watched him slip away discreetly upstairs, when she was startled by a bundle of vigour hurtling towards her.

"Aunt MC!" Anne and Ominis' daughter shouted. MC had not seen her since the first of September, when she and the rest of the family had accompanied the little girl to Hogwarts for her first year there. With two Slytherin parents, and Salazar Slytherin's blood in her veins, she had been sorted into the green house with no surprises.

“Estelle, Merlin's beard! You look stunning!” MC took the little girl in her arms and kissed her on the cheek before releasing her. “Give me a twirl, so I can see your beautiful dress.”

Estelle did as she was told, showing off her knee-length blue and white windowpane dress, which had a white Claudine collar and ruffles at the bottom of the skirt.

“My, my!” MC exclaimed while admiring her niece. “All the boys at Hogwarts must be pursuing you.”

“I've got a friend. His name is Henry… I think he's cute.” The girl admitted shyly.

“Promise to tell me everything later?” MC asked, extending her pinkie finger towards her.

Estelle nodded eagerly, holding out her own little finger to seal the promise.

With that done, MC turned to her son, who had yet to notice the presence of guests, so engrossed was he in his colouring, “Theo, have you seen who's arrived?”

“Auntie and Unkie!” The boy abruptly dropped his crayons and ran towards them at full speed.

“My favourite nephew!” Anne lifted him up and took him in her arms. “Say, you've grown up again! You'll soon be taller than me!”

As for Ominis, he approached the sofa to lean over his friend, “So, MC, are we not worthy enough for you to get up and say hello to us?”

“Healer Sebastian put me on sofa rest.” She joked to play down the situation. “I had a dizzy spell earlier, and you know what he's like: always worrying about nothing.”

Before Ominis could respond, Theo climbed onto his mother's lap, “Mummy! Mummy! Now that Auntie, and Unkie, and Estelle are here, is Father Christmas coming?”

“Oh well, I reckon he won't be long now.”

On cue, another knock resounded at the door.

“Maybe that's him!”

Her lady-of-the-house reflexes took hold of MC, who was on her feet in an instant to open the door. On the other side, white-haired Father Christmas was waiting on the porch, wearing his red coat and hat trimmed with white fur.

“Theo, look who's here!” MC summoned her son.

Only the young boy’s loud gasp was heard in the room, his face lighting up with delight at the unexpected arrival of Father Christmas himself, carrying a sack full of presents, and displaying a wide smile beneath the snowy white beard.

"Ho, ho, ho! Merry Christmas!" Father Christmas – or rather Sebastian transfigured into an impressively convincing version of him – exclaimed heartily. "Are there any children who are on the nice list in this house?"

Theo, eyes wide with excitement, approached Father Christmas eagerly. "Me! Father Christmas, I've been really good this year! I even ate all my vegetables!" he declared proudly.

Sebastian chuckled with a deep, jolly voice, and handed him two enormous gifts, "That's excellent, Theo! Keep up the good work, my young friend."

Wide-eyed with wonder, Theo opened his presents in record time. Inside the first was a giant stuffed Common Welsh Green dragon, and inside the second was a small broom suitable for a five-year-old, with a note saying 'Since you can't fly on your dragon'.

The cuddly toy had been MC's idea, as dragons were something Theo talked about all year round, while the broomstick had been Sebastian's idea, as he hoped his son would follow in his footsteps and join his future house's Quidditch team once he got to Hogwarts. They all watched as the young boy was thrilled by his two gifts. He smiled and laughed, unable to contain his excitement. Theo's joy was contagious.

This encouraged Sebastian to continue to distribute gifts, "Estelle, sweetie! My elves have told me nothing but good things about you this year! I've heard that your first year at Hogwarts is going wonderfully well, and that you have a particular interest in Potions. I'm very proud of you."

"Thank you, Father Christmas." Estelle played along for her young cousin's sake, even though she knew perfectly well that it was her uncle underneath the red and white suit.

In turn, Estelle received a large gift containing a set of cauldrons of different metals and sizes, as well as two smaller packages containing numerous ingredients, and manuals containing various potion recipes. It was the perfect apprentice potioneer's kit.

"I still don't know where she got her love of potions from. Certainly not from me." Ominis mumbled under his breath, making Anne laugh.

Father Christmas continued the merry gift-giving for the other guests, taking his role to heart and revelling in the joyous atmosphere. But Sebastian being Sebastian, he could not resist a playful aside to his wife, who was watching the festive scene unfold, "I've heard from your husband you've been a naughty girl. You didn’t stay seated like he told you."

MC took great pleasure in playing along with him, "My husband doesn't know what he's talking about. He just worries too much."

Sebastian narrowed his eyes at his wife through his little round Father Christmas glasses, "Now, that's not something a good girl would say about her husband, is it?"

"I'll make it up to him tonight. I promise I'll be a really good girl." She smirked, the hint of mischief in her eyes obvious.

Even through his thick white curly beard, MC could see his Adam's apple bobbing heavily. It took Sebastian a moment to get back into character, "Will you? Well, in that case, I think Father Christmas has a special gift for you too, my dear."

With a theatrical flourish, he presented her a beautifully wrapped box. Curiosity sparkled in MC's eyes as she accepted the gift. She carefully unwrapped it, revealing a delicate necklace with a pendant shaped like a snowflake, each branch encrusted with small diamonds which sparkled brightly in the festive lights.

"I thought it would be a fitting reminder of all the magical Christmas moments we've shared together over the years." Sebastian explained in a whisper.

Touched by the thoughtful gesture, MC smiled warmly at Sebastian, "Thank you, Father Christmas. It’s perfect.”

“There's another surprise underneath to go with it.”

MC realised that the box did indeed have a false bottom. She lifted it and was surprised to find a set of arctic blue lingerie, entirely see-through apart from a lace flake to cover the most intimate areas.

She quickly closed the box to avoid anyone seeing, and shook her head, although she could not wipe the big amused grin off her face, "You're incorrigible. Now go and change yourself back before your son notices you're not here."

“Yes, ma’am.”

After explaining that he had other families to visit, Father Christmas said goodbye to everyone, especially to young Theo, who was the happiest to see him. MC claimed that she was going to see him to the door, but in fact followed him outside.

MC closed the door behind her, and stepped out into the winter cold, “Your transfiguration was extremely impressive. You're getting better at it every year.”

“I'm glad you liked it.” Sebastian smiled.

She took a step towards him and rested her hands on his chest. It was bizarre that he was so much chubbier than usual. Even if she knew it was him, it did not feel like her husband, “I didn't like it as much as my present. Thank you very much, truly.”

“If you wanna thank me, you can wear your present tonight and keep your promise.” He winked at her.

MC stood on her tiptoes and planted a tender kiss on her husband's lips, still transfigured as Father Christmas. Even though she was used to feeling his usual beard against her skin when she kissed him daily, she was still tickled by his new thick, greying moustache. But that did not make the kiss unpleasant, on the contrary. Proof of this was that they continued kissing until they were interrupted by someone clearing their throat in the doorway.

“You're lucky it was me who saw you, and not Theo. He would have been traumatised. Anyway, I came to tell you to hurry back. If you take too long, Theo will suspect something, even if he's ecstatic about his dragon.” Estelle admonished them before returning to the living room as quickly as she had come.

Sebastian was rendered speechless for a moment, “…Did you also feel like it was Ominis talking?”

“Yup, this kid's really becoming too much like her father... but she's right though.” MC took out her wand and tapped Sebastian on the shoulder with the tip. In the blink of an eye, he was back to his normal appearance and attire. “You're more handsome this way. Come on, let's get back inside.”

No sooner had they returned to the living room than Theo ran to his father and wrapped his arms around his leg.

“Daddy! Have you seen Father Christmas? He was so nice!”

“Of course, he was.” Sebastian replied with amusement at how oblivious his son was. He had been so enthralled by Father Christmas and his presents, that he had not even noticed that his father had been absent for several long minutes.

“Honey.” MC called out to him, instantly drawing his attention. “I also have a gift for you.”

She handed him a carefully wrapped package, adorned with a ribbon that matched the holiday décor, to which was attached a label with 'For the man who makes every Christmas magical' beautifully handwritten on it.

His curiosity piqued, Sebastian eagerly unwrapped the present. Revealed within a long black Auror uniform robe. He already had plenty, so he could not really understand why his wife was gifting him with another one.

“I've upgraded it with Kneazle fur and Diricawl feathers so that it has multiple Protection Charms. It also enhances the power of your spells to increase the damage you inflict on your opponents. Normally, nothing can happen to you with this!” MC announced cheerfully.

Sebastian's eyes met hers, and in that shared gaze, he recognised the depth of the sentiment behind the thoughtful gift, “Someone's worrying about me.”

“Of course I worry about you! You’re the most competent Auror there is, so they put you on all the most dangerous cases, and it's going to be even worse now that you've been promoted to Head of the Auror Office.” MC grumbled, seeming somewhat offended by Sebastian's reaction to her gift.

He hurried to take her in his arms and place a kiss on the top of her head, which seemed to be sufficient to calm her down, “I’m only teasing you, love. I love it, and I'll wear it every time I go on a mission. It’s perfect, just like you.”

The festive glow lingered as MC, Sebastian, and the rest of the family continued to revel in the warmth of the holiday spirit. The exchange of gifts had created an atmosphere of shared joy, and as the afternoon unfolded, they transitioned to the dining table, where an array of delectable dishes prepared by MC awaited. Laughter and conversation intertwined with the clinking of glasses and the clatter of cutlery against plate.

As the clock ticked on, Anne, Ominis and Estelle, reluctant to bid farewell to the enchanting family gathering, did not leave until late in the night, well after the usual bedtime for little Theo, who was by no means tired. Fuelled by the excitement of the festivities, he gave his parents an unexpectedly difficult challenge about agreeing to go to bed.

“Alright, I've finally got him to sleep.” Sebastian announced triumphantly as he descended the stairs to the living room.

“How did you do it?” MC asked from the sofa where she was sitting, drinking pumpkin juice.

He laughed, “I told him that the quicker he fell asleep, the quicker he'd wake up and be able to fly on his broomstick.”

MC joined in his laughter, albeit ruefully. Her smile seemed forced because it did not reach her eyes, which were shifty and preferred to remain fixed on the glass in her hands.

"What's the matter, darling? You're acting different." Sebastian asked with genuine concern as he sat down beside her and placed a comforting hand on her knee.

MC jumped up from the sofa at the touch, as if his contact had burnt her, "I – uhm... I have another present for you. I'm kind of nervous to give it to you. That's why I wanted to wait until we were alone."

As she stood in front of Sebastian, she consequently took out her wand and pointed it at one of the cabinets in the living room to open one of the drawers and take out a small rectangular box – about the size of a paperback book – which she made float towards her. Once the object was in her hands, she stared at it hesitantly, then took a deep breath before shoving the package into Sebastian's hands, who was still sitting on the sofa.

"But I only got you one present." Sebastian says, inspecting the present wrapped in red wrapping paper and adorned with a thick, glittery gold ribbon.

"No, you gave me two. Just because they were in the same box doesn't mean it counts as one gift. So we're even." She tried as best she could to reassure him, despite her own nerves, which had been frayed for several days now. "Now, open it."

Sebastian untied the ribbon and removed the lid. Inside he found a pair of white woollen knitted bootees. Under his wife's apprehensive gaze, he froze in silence for a long moment, trying to make sense of this original gift.

"I knitted them myself.” MC said in a small voice to break the agonising silence.

“They're very well made, but… You know, I think Theo already doesn't fit into these anymore." Sebastian joked in an attempt to ease the awkwardness between them.

MC choked back a strained laugh, "That's probably because they're not for Theo."

"Who're they for, then?" He asked with an uncomprehending frown, holding the bootees in his hands.

MC did not say a word. She simply looked at him with a nervous smile, patiently waiting for the realisation to hit him. When it eventually did, it was like he had been struck by lightning. He, who had always been cool-headed and knew how to remain composed even in the worst circumstances – even more so now that he had all his years as an Auror behind him – was currently speechless, and his eyes widened to such an extent that MC feared they would burst out of their sockets.

"You're pregnant?" Sebastian questioned, bewildered.

MC only nodded in response, as she had to bite the inside of her cheek to stop the tears welling up. Ever since she had seen a Healer to confirm her suspicions, she had dreaded the moment when she would break the news in turn, letting all sorts of doubts go to her head.

Now that the cat was out of the bag, and she could see her husband looking at her with wide, amazed eyes, she could no longer fathom how she had ever doubted him. How could she have ever thought that he would be anything but supportive to her?

"You're pregnant." He repeated again with a beaming smile, but this time it was not a question. It was a statement to himself, while he was still trying to process the information that had knocked him for six by how unexpected it was.

It seemed to do the trick to snap him out of his daze, as he jumped to his feet, his exuberance evident in the way he pulled MC into his arms. He lifted her off the ground and swirled her around in the air, a whirlwind of happiness and love. MC giggled, caught up in the infectious joy radiating from him. Laughter echoed through the room as they shared a dance of sheer delight, celebrating the beautiful journey that lay ahead of them.

"Oh, MC! That's... I don’t even have the words to describe how fabulous this is!" He exclaimed excitedly as he put her down on the ground and rested a gentle hand on her stomach. "We're gonna have another little one of our own."

"We are." MC confirmed, wrapping her fingers around his wrist and giving it a little squeeze, as if to assure him that it was all real.

"So that's why you got dizzy this morning!" Sebastian's eyes lit up with pride at having put the pieces together. However, that did not last long, because his realisation erased any trace of eagerness and replaced it with worry that made his face fall. "Bloody hell, MC! You cooked all morning while being pregnant. You should’ve let me do it. I'm your husband, you can– no, you must rely on me. I promise I'll be more present from now on, so that you can rest more."

Without further ado, he gently forced MC to sit back down on the sofa with him, so that she would not be even more tired after such a long day. She had to take it easy now that she was carrying their child, the proof of their unconditional love.

Sebastian was committed to being as doting as he could, to pampering his wife even more than he already was. So when MC suddenly burst into tears for no apparent reason, it was only natural for Sebastian to panic and try to work out what was wrong.

"What is it? Did I say something wrong?" He asked worriedly, immediately grabbing her hands.

"No. No, you’re perfect as always... But I was so scared to tell you." She replied in between sobs. "We've been so busy since we had Theo that we've never discussed whether we wanted a second child, plus you've just been promoted so you're going to have a lot of work coming up... I just didn't think it was the right time. I was scared you wouldn't be pleased with the news.”

Still holding her hands, Sebastian brought them to his mouth to place sweet kisses to her knuckles, “MC, I'll have as many children as you're willing to give me, whatever the circumstances.”

“So you're happy?” She asked him in a trembling voice, her big doe eyes full of tears.

It broke Sebastian's heart to see her like this, but he knew he had to get used to it, because this was just the beginning of the hormonal mood swings, "Very much so. You couldn't make me happier for Christmas."

He lovingly kissed away the tears on her cheeks, until none trickled down any more, and MC flung herself at him. She wrapped her arms around his neck, her fingers tangling into his soft hair, and he gladly hugged her back, holding her (and his future child) close to him.

Their embrace conveyed the depth of their joy, and all the unshakable love that bound them together. In that magical moment, as their hearts beat in harmony with the joyous news, the room seemed to overflow with the warmth of their connection. The hug lingered, a silent celebration of the love that had brought them to this beautiful chapter in their lives, while Sebastian whispered sweet words in MC's ear.

"We're gonna be one big happy family." He murmured while caressing her hair soothingly.

"I know."

Feeling a surge of emotions that mere words could not capture, MC gently pulled away from the hug. Her eyes, filled with a profound love, locked onto Sebastian's chocolate ones. In those perfect eyes, the ones she never wanted to look away from, she saw the promise of many more beautiful memories and wonderful Christmases to come.

A simple 'I love you' was nowhere near enough to convey how unconditionally enamoured she was with him. Words seemed insufficient to express the depth of her feelings. Instead, she chose a language that transcended the limitations of speech. She leant in, closing the distance between them, and pressed a tender, lingering kiss upon his lips.

The kiss spoke volumes—of gratitude, of connection, and of a love that could overcome any ordeal. It was a tender yet fervent gesture, a silent proclamation of the emotions that resonated within their hearts. As they shared the soft, meaningful kiss, the room seemed to hold its breath, enveloping them in the timeless language of love.

Sebastian, understanding the unspoken sentiments, responded with a warmth that mirrored her profound affection, even though he was the first to break the kiss and choose this moment of vulnerability to lay bare his heart.

“I adore you, Mrs. Sallow. Truly and desperately. Thank you for always making the happiest man alive.”

MC could not help but dive back in to kiss the lips that, for ten years now and until her last breath, she called home.

#hogwarts legacy #sebastian sallow #sebastian sallow x mc #sebastian sallow x reader #sebastian sallow fanfiction #sebastian sallow fluff #hogwarts legacy fanfic #fanfic #christmas #christmas fluff #christmas fanfic

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spookymoonybeasty · 3 months ago

Text

Insomnia and the Incomprehensible Ch.2

Wordcount: 1412

Summary: Danny wakes up in the Clocktower, and questions Clockwork's job of watching a birdbath of all things.

These days it was a rare thing for Danny to wake slowly. So often his poor sleep was interrupted either by his alarm, ghost sense, or teacher waking him up from dozing in class.

So when his mind caught up with the fact that nothing is happening upon waking, he startled and flailed under the heavy, soft blankets. Certain he missed his alarm and was about to be late for school.

Then he froze, having opened his eyes to someplace he did not expect to be. Dull, dark blue brick walls hiding behind tapestries and curtains, teal floor covered in intricately designed rugs, clocks and gears… Right, he was still in Clockwork’s tower. A place where time bent to one being’s will, and that being had assured him there was no need to rush until he left.

Danny sighed and let himself get comfy again. He was allowed to wake up slow this time.

He wished his bed back home was this comfy. His actual bed was a stone slab compared to this one, he felt like he was laying on a cloud. This one also had several blankets of varying weights, thicknesses, and textures, which made him realize he’d been missing out. Maybe he can get his parents to buy him some new blankets later. Soft, puffy, thick ones.

The blankets even smelled good! What kind of detergent did Clockwork use on these things? ...Do ghosts need to use detergent? Or do lairs create naturally good smelling things? Whatever. None of that really matters. Just the comfort of the plushest piece of furniture ever, which smells wonderful (is it herbal? Floral? Woodsy? Oils? He can’t tell.). And the sheets were so soft he kept moving his legs around to enjoy the cold spots yet to be warmed by trapped body heat.

Danny didn’t want to get up. He was fully awake by now, and should probably get moving so he can get to school fully rested for once, but… When was the last time he was so at peace? No fears, no worries. No dangerous ghosts to be alert for, no family barging into his room, no responsibilities for as long as he is here.

Were he absolutely certain that Clockwork would truly allow him to stay for as long as he pleased, he might have let himself relax enough to fall back asleep. If only to avoid the world waiting for him outside.

But the longer he was awake, the more active his mind got, the more restless his body, and the less certain he wouldn’t be inconveniencing Clockwork by sleeping in.

Eventually that tiny niggling anxiety prompted him to finally get up.

He wrangled himself free from the 1, 2, 3… 6 blankets he was buried under, and sat there for several more moments. He’s gonna really, really miss this bed.

Finally, he went ghost and tentatively left the room. The clocktower’s interior was as confusing as ever, with its multiple paths branching off beyond what the tower’s exterior would suggest possible, random variations in level, and the clockwork gears sticking out just about anywhere they wished to be. The shadowy ceilings and corners didn’t help with navigation, especially as they often hid the walls in darkness.

Clockwork’s lair was so creepy and confusing. A total contrast to the cozy room he was just in. Are there other cozy rooms hidden away in these walls?

Danny wandered for awhile, not knowing which way is out. Hopefully this won’t be yet another time he has to get lost before Clockwork comes to the rescue.

Thankfully this was not one of those times, because the tower’s halls seemed to guide him right to the ancient ghost just like it had yesterday. Earlier? However long ago he last saw the man. Despite there being countless clocks here, none of them were any help in telling the time. Did they serve any purpose, or were they just there for looks?

“Good morning Daniel,” Clockwork greeted, sparing a short glance away from the window into another time. “Did you sleep well?”

“I can’t remember the last time I slept so good. That bed is going to make mine feel like a rock.” Danny floated over to hover by Clockwork’s shoulder.

The portal-window-thing was focused on a birdbath, time sped up as evidenced by the birds visiting and leaving the bath faster than what was natural.

“Why are you watching a birdbath?”

“At some point it disappears with no trace, and I cannot foresee the exact moment when that happens. So I am watching it with my own eyes to see what happened to it.” Clockwork explained.

Danny watched the sky turn into brilliant shades of yellow, orange, then purple and black before it turned to night.

“...Is the birdbath important, or something?”

“Yes.”

…

The sky brightened into pinks and golds, looking like a painting until the colors faded to a blue sky and white fluffy clouds. As puffy and soft looking as the bed he just slept in.

“Yeah I’m not sure I’m ever going to understand your job. Why is a birdbath so important? Is a super important time-traveling bird going to keel over and die just because it couldn’t get its bath at a specific time?”

Clockwork chuckled, shaking his head. “I’m afraid you’re still too young and mortal to understand. The best I can explain is that its disappearance breaks reality. Why, I do not yet know. That is why I’m watching it, so I can find out how to fix it.”

A couple more sunrises and sunsets later, the birdbath vanishes in the dark of night. Clockwork twists a knob on his staff, pausing time, then rewinding it to the middle of the night.

“And this, is where I would either send someone to investigate, or go myself.” Clockwork turned to Danny. “I’d offer you tag along to see what happened, but I do believe you have school to get to.”

“What! No!” Danny whined, “You somehow made looking for a missing birdbath sound interesting, and you’re telling me I got to go to school instead?”

Clockwork only smiled and nodded toward the exit.

Danny heaved a great big sigh of resignation, and began to float away.

“Perhaps there will be something more interesting to do next time you visit. Preferably after you get another good night’s sleep.” Clockwork mentioned.

“Yeah, who knows when that’ll happen.” Danny groused.

“Whenever you please. You will always be welcome here.” Clockwork paused, looking away as a thought came to him. “Well, so long as you don’t get time powers and intend on bringing my lair to ruin.”

“Ha! As if that’d ever happen.”

Clockwork’s expression did not change.

Danny frowned.

“It wouldn’t, right?”

Clockwork smiled. “There are infinite timelines, infinite possibilities.”

“Hmm. Don’t like that. Welp! Goodbye Clockwork! See you later!” Danny waved goodbye and flew out the door, remembering the ancient’s warning yesterday that he should hurry back lest he be late.

Danny flew back up into his room, gathered up his things, then ran downstairs to grab a pancake or two if there were any left.

Jazz was in the kitchen, cleaning up after breakfast save for the plate of pancakes on the dining table. She startled at his footsteps, but relaxed upon seeing him.

“Danny! Are you alright? Where did you go? I can call the school and say you’re sick if you-”

“I’m alright Jazz. I just went to Clockwork’s for some sleep. Y’know, the time controlling ghost?” Danny checked the time before grabbing a pancake to eat plain. There’s no time for butter and syrup, unfortunately.

“Oh.” Jazz calmed down. She walked over to her brother and gave him a hug. “Well I’m glad you’re doing alright now. I assume he paused or sped up time for you?”

“Yup.” Danny leaned into the hug while he chewed on his first bite of pancake, and spoke around the pancake mush squished into his cheek. “I go’ a full night’s shleep for onfe!”

Jazz squeezed tighter and ruffled his hair. “Don’t talk with your mouth full.”

Danny wriggled away and took another bite of pancake to speak through. “C’mom! Gonn’ be la’e!”

“Ew shut up! You got pancake mush on your chin now!” Jazz scolded as she hurried to put away the pancakes. Pancakes that would come alive the next morning to avenge their devoured comrades.

Hopefully Danny will be rested enough again to give them a valiant fight.

#danny phantom #danny phantom clockwork #fanfiction #beastywrites #watch me proceed to not update this ever again #<- manifesting me being wrong about that and I write another chapter tomorrow

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raviostinkzz · 8 months ago

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-Safe with us

Characters: Lee!Basil, Ler!Kel, Ler!Sunny (Fandom:Omori) Warnings: Tickle fic!!, mention of anxiety attack anything in this fic is strictly SFW and platonic!!

Summary: Basil needs help recovering from an anxiety attack and luckily, his comforting friends are there to support and give him something much happier to focus on. (Post true ending - no spoilers)

I love comfort tickles and I just think this trio is really nice for that (this is based off the hc I have where Basil is in the community ❤️🪴)

-REBLOGS ARE APPRECIATED-

It was so hard to calm down. He just couldn’t get it out of his head, no matter what his thoughts traced back to it.

Basil clutched the fabric at his chest, heaving and smothering his face with his hand and sleeve in a panicked and frustrated attempt to wipe the tears that just wouldn’t stop falling.

Kel and Sunny had already been sat with him for a bit, making him feel guilty for struggling so much in front of them and that just made it even harder to relax.

“Hey, hey it’s okay. We’re here, nothings gonna happen, alright?” Kel rested a hand on Basil’s as he murmured, offering him a sense of security.

The teen scuttled over to sit closer to him, and leaned in to hug him gently. Basil didn’t say anything, just adjusting himself to fit better in the embrace and focusing on his friend’s warmth to help steady his breathing.

Kel continued, “If there’s anything we can do to help, just say.” And Sunny nodded his head in agreement.

The blonde-haired boy sat and spaced, half way between peace and a racing heart, pondering on what to say. Or if he should even talk at all. The silence seemed to beat the room like a drum after all his crying. Mimicking his nervous heartbeat and irritatingly harmonising with the hum of electricity creeping its way to his ears. The dried tears on his face itched. And he felt kind of sick. No…don’t focus on it.

He closed his eyes and held Kel’s hand tighter. The touch of another person guiding the sense of dread pooling in his gut away and out of him gradually.

As he settled, the shy boy fidgeted a little, bringing Kel’s wandering attention back onto him and inclining the daydreamer to lightly rub the sides and curves of his friend’s pale hand, in his way to reinsure that safety and reality. The sudden touch spread across his hand like a feather drifting along his skin, it was comforting and tingly, soothingly ticklish.

The corners of his lips ever so slightly wobbled themselves into a timid smile, and he reluctantly welcomed the new feeling of butterflies fluttering around in his stomach as he began to form an idea of what could offer the kind of distraction he needed. Basil shuffled slightly and moved his arm to hold his waist, now the tingling feeling of Kel’s affection seeping to the rest of his body.

His mind began to paint a different pattern of thoughts, now warm and comforting and lovingly vulnerable. He pressed his hand a little harder into his side in an attempt to rid himself of the ghostly presence leaking from his sudden fantasy, prickling goosebumps on his skin and causing a needy restlessness.

No matter his effort those phantom hands persisted the flustering touch, drifting their way up and down his shivering sides and dusting his cheeks a nearly unnoticeable tint of pink. The anxious boy knew what all this meant and was embarrassed to acknowledge it, but he knew it’d help. He knew his friends would be right there to do it and there was no way he could deny their sweetness. So he admitted, mentally, he now had a lee mood.

The desire, the want, the need- the need for fingers teasing at his skin, hands squeezing at his stomach, for his every spot to be tickled unpredictably and his every thought melted along with his heart. Oh, if only he could just be squirming and squealing with laught-

Soft spoken calls of his name punctured the daydream he was losing himself in, the voice becoming clearer each time it repeated itself.

“Basil? Hey!” Kel patted his hand, bringing him back down to earth once more. “Have you thought of something that could make you feel better?” Basil hesitated—because there was something, but it was way too embarrassing, and to make it worse, he knew his friends would be able tell.

He steadied his breathing and encouraged himself to respond,

“Well.. u-um could you do that…thing we talked about uh- the..y’know..” He stammered, his voice practically a whisper as he stared down at his shorts, pointlessly analysing every dust particle and hair strand accumulated in an excuse to escape eye contact.

The taller boy wracked his brain, before noticing Sunny holding his hands in front of him, scrunching his fingers with a playful yet caring expression on his face.

Kel realised. Thaaat. “Ohhhhh aw I get you! You want us to tickle you?” Kel smiled warmly, he really could comfort people with just his presence. But that didn’t stop Basil from flushing twice as deep, why did that word have to be so flustering?

“Ahah..uh. Yes.. please..Oh- only if you want to I-Ihi dohohon-wahahait I wahasnt rehead-AH KEHEhel nohohoho!!” Basil stuck his elbows to his sides, squirming and giggling in surprise as the taller boy suddenly began to squeeze at them. He was expecting a slower and gentler start, but supposed the surprise at least didn’t allow his brain any time to process and make room for negative thoughts.

He jerked once he felt ten fingers clawing at his ribs, losing his position and slumping limply down to the wooden floor he was once sat on. Kel chuckled, “Downnn we go!!” He sang, digging and vibrating his fingers into the bottom of Basil’s ribcage as they sank further. Adorable nasally cackles and snorts were practically pouring from the boy.

“Gosh, snorting already?” Kel teased, “You must be really ticklish!” With that, Basil could just feel the heat rise to his ears. Kel was hesitant to make too many remarks, after all he didnt want to overwhelm him, but the deep rose that accompanied the joyful dimples on his cheeks was just irresistible. And Basil knew he was just helping make things lighthearted.

Sunny shuffled over to Basil’s knees, sneaking his hands underneath and humbly dancing his fingertips along the ticklish hollows. The flower boy squeaked quietly, his frantic giggles rising and lowering randomly like sweet and cheerful hiccups. He shifted his legs up and down, unable to keep still but not exactly avoiding the fluttery sensations.

If anything, he tried to lean closer into them, the thought and feeling of something so affectionate and vulnerable warmed him. A sense of comfort and love trickling through his body like a soothing stream, Sunny’s approach of tickling was much softer than Kel’s, and the contrast of the sensations complimented each other greatly, somehow working every adorable sound Basil could make right out of him.

As flustering as it was, he couldn’t deny it was helping a lot, and he appreciated the warmth and connection it greeted him and his friends with.

Kel wandered his fingers down from Basil’s ribs, pausing for a moment to let the boy open an eye and see a mischievous grin peeking back at him, oh, and definitely not to let him see the slowly wiggling fingers gradually creeping their way under his shirt too!! Not at all!!

Basil squealed “KE-AGHHAH-KEHEHELL NOHOHOO” the blonde folded inwards the second Kel made contact and shot his arms down to hold his wrists as he attacked his bare tummy, his fingertips gliding over the sensitive skin which wobbled and caved adorably to the touch. He switched to light grabs and rapid squeezes, squidging in rhythm with Basil’s laughter as it rose and fell in excited panic.

As quickly as he picked up, Kel eased the tickles down slowly, opting to just gently trace along Basil’s stomach, and his laughter soon calmed down along with it. Just giggles and soft titters.

He didn’t want to go too overboard on his friend, the poor guy was trying to calm down in the first place after all. So he decided they should ease up a little. Kel twitched his shoulder at Sunny and gave him a smile as a signal to stop.

Basil continued to giggle, hugging himself with a big grin on his face. His hair was messy and ruffled, and his face flushed, completed by that adorable smile. He slowly opened his previously squeezed-shut eyes to see his two extrovert-and-introvert friends gazing at him with a certain look in their eyes.

“Whahat..?” The blonde asked, still giggling a little from the fingers Kel was absent minded-ly tracing on his stomach.

“You’re really endearing to us…” Sunny responded quietly with a smile.

Basil’s body lost all tension, his heart melting, how were his friends so loving to him? Sunny was only just warming back up to smiling again and what he’d said along with that smile had meant more than he could ever know. He felt so at home and safe.

Kel chimed in, “And your laugh is so nice to hear man…you need to laugh more often!” The tall boy chuckled, “…Or do we need to tickle you more?” he grinned mischievously and gave Basil’s stomach a few squeezes.

He squeaked and curled in on himself again, mustering up a giggly reply, “Ihi’d like that..”

————

hope you enjoyed idk i havent posted in ages dont punch me BYE

#sorry for being so inactive #😭#idk if i’ll get back on my game but i’m pretty sure i started writing this november last year so that’s a thing #i’ve proofread this but i might’ve missed some mistakes so sewper dewper sorry for that #i love this trio though<3 #i need them to be happy #sfw tickle fic #sfw tickle community #omori tickles #lee!basil #ticklish!basil #ler!kel #ler!sunny #tks #RAHGGSHHFF PLEASE GET SOME ATTENTION CRIES #my fics!!

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heartbreakgrill · 2 years ago

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stiles stilinski: breakable heaven; pt. 9- “killing me slow, out the window. i’m always waiting for you just to cut to the bone.”

a/n: EEEK! one more after this cuz i’m a lying liar and can’t stop writing.

stiles leaned his chin against his fist, staring out the window of the second floor room in the hospital. outside, the sun was setting. the rain poured down in a thick stream, bouncing off the pavement. lightening crashed through the sky every so often, and more than once, the lights had flickered. stiles was on the edge of his seat, anxious. he hoped this was just a storm, not anything deeper than that.

down below, the parking lot was sparse of people. cars pulled in and out while the time dragged by. but, it was an unusually quiet night for beacon hills memorial hospital. outside of y/n’s room, stiles ears were only occasionally prickled by the sound of shoes squeaking against the linoleum floors. the stillness made him nervous.

stiles took another deep sigh. his chest lifted with the effort, falling as he let the air out of his nose. his eyes followed a car as it rolled into the parking lot. then, bored of the sight, and restless in his nature, stiles’ turned his knees back towards the hospital bed behind him. his gaze rolled over y/n, who was still just laying there. she was blacked out and a breathing mask sat overtop her face. an iv drop was attached to her left hand. a thin, scratchy hospital-issued blanket was tugged up to her chin, but overtop, stiles had lay his hoodie on her. he’d wanted to run over to her house, grab a blanket, a pillow from her room. but, he didn’t want to leave her sound.

stiles leaned forward, rested his elbows on the edge of the bed, and picked y/n’s hand up off of her stomach. he’d shifted between this exact position, staring out that window, and pacing the room so many times in the last 24 hours. he didnt know what else to do with himself. the nurse on duty kept assuring him that y/n would wake up, at any time. that y/n would be alright, so long as she woke up tonight. it didn’t necessarily mean y/n would be dying- but, that’s when they should all be concerned.

as if stiles didn’t have enough to worry about.

after all, his dad was missing. still. and they had no new leads.

scott had headed to derek’s loft, to warn him about jennifer. that was just a few hours ago. he hasn’t received any updates on the situation. and this storm was intensifying his anxieties.

then, stiles also wasn’t sure where anyone else was- but he just hoped that they were out looking for answers. no one was responding to his text messages.

he wanted to be out there, helping, but when scott had offered him to come to derek’s loft- stiles said no. stiles didn’t want to leave y/n alone. besides, he was paralyzed by the situation. he already lacked any physical enhancements that would offer up any sort of help to the situation. and, now, he was mentally unstable, as well. he couldn’t stopped crying, couldn’t stop his breath from quickening every few minutes. it was taking all of his energy to not crawl up into himself and panic until he wasted away.

the girl he loved was nearly in a coma, and his dad was missing. the

if only she were awake…she would say something, anything, that would help him. she would remind him of his strength and perseverance. she would hug him, kiss his cheek, and make him feel, for just a minute, that the world was simple. that he could get his dad back.

right now, he felt so hopeless.

the only thing that kept him going was the hope of her opening her eyes, squeezing back his hand. it pushed him forth.

it helped, too, that no one else had been taken, quite yet. once they were, once two more guardians were reported missing- that’s when stiles knew his dad was going to die.

stiles brushed his thumb across her knuckles, a pattern he found some grounding root in, and sniffled. he pressed their joined hands to his forehead and leaned his head down. holding back a sob, stiles stuttered out, “i don’t know what to do.”

as if a prayer was being answered, he felt y/n’s fingers twitch between his own. he quickly lifted his head, snapping his gaze to her struggling face.

y/n squinted her eyelids, her vision blurry as she tried to pry open her sight. the fluorescent lights burned her tired, weary eyes, only making her struggle more. it took her more than a moment to adjust, but when she did, she had to process a lot of information. first, her gaze latched to her body- the hospital gown and blankets were itchy against her skin, and she could feel the iv digging at her skin. the breathing mask was restrictive over her face, but the air pumped into her lungs felt so fresh. mostly, what she felt was pain- her legs hurt, her ribs ached, and her head was pounding.

she slowly regained control throughout her body. it was that buzzing feeling one normally got after this leg fell asleep- staticky and nerve-prickling. eventually, her fingers twitched, her toes wiggled, and she was able to take in stiles. he perked up as her eyes fell onto his, immediately jumping from his chair. he never let go of her hand, even as stiles found the nurse’s call button and pressed it rapidly. he leaned his torso over her.

“oh, my god,” he breathed out, gratefully. more tears streamed down his face, but he didn’t care. stiles set a hand to her cool cheek, touch finalizing the fact that she was really conscious again. “you’re awake! thank god- you’re awake, baby.”

y/n wanted to say something, but her throat was scratchy from having not spoken for a day. there was, also, a mask prisoning her mouth. a small cough forced it’s way from her throat. stiles carefully pulled it from her face. y/n lay her hand over his, helping him move it. it left a red, dented mark over either of her cheeks. they slid their fingers into one another’s.

“wha-“ she coughed slightly, clearing her throat, “what happened?” short, fading clips rolled over her working memory, like filing cabinets rattling around, shutting and closing to quickly for her to grab onto anything.

stiles lay a hand on her face, unable to focus on her words, “i’m so fucking happy you’re awake.”

“stiles,” she furrowed her brows, “what happened?”

stiles was going to explain everything to her, though he was afraid. he was sure she didn’t remember of anything, especially everything he had told her before they went to the school. so, having to explain it all to her again, especially now that she had been nearly killed by the very thing stiles warned her of- would she reject him? would she want nothing to do with not only that part of his life, but him, too?

stiles didn’t know if he’d survived losing his dad and her all within the same day. he needed her.

just as he opened his lips, hesitant words waiting on his tongue, the nurse was rushing into the room. stiles couldn’t remember her name.

she looked more than concerned, clutching her stethoscope around her neck with white knuckles. when she saw y/n, eyes wide open, breathing mask in her hand, she flinched slightly.

she went to say something, too, but lightening cracked overtop of the hospital. it was loud, louder than the storm had been moments ago. and it sounded like the wind was crashing against the hospital in thick, tormenting waves.

“good thing you’re awake,” her breathy words fell into the air, a slight, nervous humor in her tone.

then, another lightening strike crashed, and the lights in the hospital blacked out. y/n instantly grabbed at stiles’ wrist, tight, and he slipped his fingers into her. y/n’s body was shaking.

“what’s happening?” stiles demanded.

the backup generator powered on. the lights were dimmer than before, and an alarm began blasting throughout the building. a warning. y/n flinched, again, at the sound, squinting her eyes shut and tilting her head away from the noise. her forehead banged against her skull.

“we have to go! they’re evacuating the hospital because of the storm. there’s an ambulance leaving in ten minutes, and another in twenty. we need to get you on one of them,” the nurse quickly shot to y/n’s bedside. she took the breathing mask from her hands and began moving the iv stand about. “do you think you can walk?”

y/n glanced at stiles, her pupils wide with fear. she shook her head, “i don’t know!”

“it’s okay,” stiles nodded once. he managed to keep his tone steady, reaching out to help her off the bed, “it’s okay. here.”

the nurse met stiles on his side of the bed. she carefully set y/n’s legs off the side of the bed, her feet barely touching the cold floor. then, y/n’s nurse quickly slipped the young girl’s pants up her legs, a pair of hospital socks on her feet. y/n gripped either of their hands as they helped her stand, their support also pressing onto her elbows. she hissed as she stood up, bunched over from the pain. her chin dropped into her chest. stiles securely held onto her waist, her hand squeezing tightly into his other.

“hold onto this,” the nurse wheeled y/n’s iv stand over to stiles. he hesitated, unsure of how he was going to manage that.

but, he wrapped a fist around it. as soon as he had he did, the nurse bolted out of the room to help other patients. stiles stared after her, jaw slack, and a little more than pissed off at her lack of beside manners. “ok, wow. um- okay, baby, okay…we’ve gotta go, okay?”

y/n looked up at him with a pained expression. tears streaked down her face, “stiles…i don’t-“

her knees gave out on her. y/n nearly collapsed to the ground, but stiles grabbed onto her waist. he felt her entire body shaking beneath his touch, both from the pain coursing throughout her injuries and her fear.

“hey, hey! it’s okay! hey, here.”

stiles carefully pulled the iv from the needle in her hand, then looped her arms over his shoulders. “please, baby, hold on to me, okay?”

he felt y/n nod against his chest, weakly. her hold tightened onto his neck. stiles crouched down an inch more so he could get his hands under her knees. he picked her up in his arms, more than surprised by his own strength. the machines beeped, wildly, as they lost connection to her body. but, that was just background noise. outside, he could hear dozens of people rushing past, the alarm still blaring.

stiles kicked the door to her room open, pausing as those people rushed past him, down the hallway, towards the elevators. the lights flickered again and everyone yelped in fear. stiles glanced down as he felt y/n’s hair tickle his neck, her head lolled into the corner of his shoulder. her eyes were squeezed shut, teeth ground together as she tried not to scream.

“okay, here we go, baby,” stiles pushed them into the stream of people headed for any and all of the exits.

patients, nurses, and doctors moved against him, bumping y/n’s legs every so often, offering no help to the situation. he cursed every time they hit y/n and stiles, because she hissed in pain as they bumped her injuries. stiles kept glancing down at her to try to ensure she was okay, so he nearly tripped over his own feet, numerous times. but, somehow, he managed to keep going.

just as they reached the elevators, the doors popped open, and stiles was met with the sight of derek, scott, and jennifer. anger coursed through stiles veins, and his eyes darkened. he clenched his jaw as he took a step back. why was she here, with them? why had they brought her here? stiles just knew this storm was because of her.

y/n rustled in his arms as she tried to lift her head. she felt herself drifting in and out of consciousness. though she couldn’t really focus on anything happening- the lightening rattling the building, the chaos unfolding before them, the woman who nearly killed her standing the elevator- she could hear stiles’ heartbeat pounding against her ear. her fading consciousness was taken back to his jeep, his bare chest beneath her touch, his finger brushing patterns into her skin.

she heard his heartbeat quicken, his blood pumping angrily. she wanted to comfort him, remind him that it would be all be okay. they’d make it out. she’d live.

so, y/n wrapped her fingers around the back of his neck, tangling them into his hair. goosebumps rose beneath her touch. stiles felt his anger ease up as he focused onto her cold fingertips.

as a cooling breath fell between stiles’ lips, scott quickly ushered him into the elevator. the doors closed behind stiles’ back. and scott breaks the news to him, “the alpha pack is here. in the hospital.”

stiles shoots daggers at miss morrell, who is trying to avoid his gaze. if y/n wasn’t here, in his arms, he’d jennifer up against the wall, hand around her throat. he didn’t hear scott at first, not until his friend touches his shoulder. he meets scott’s eyes, “…they’re here? in the hospital? why? why are they here?”

“yeah,” scott nodded shortly, “but, that’s not the worst part. cora- she’s dying. but, jennifer says there’s something she can do to help. that’s why we brought her-“

“and we’re gonna trust her?” stiles’ voice rose, slightly, as he swung around to face the enemy. as he did, y/n groaned in pain. he was aware of himself, her in his arms, again, and quickly looked to see if she was okay.

scott could smell the fear and pain oozing off of y/n’s crumpled body. he set a hand on y/n’s knee, guiding stiles back to his side of the elevator, “here, stiles. i can help her.”

stiles met scott’s eye. he didn’t hesitate to nod, once, encouraging scott to take away her struggle, to allow her just a few moments of peace. the veins of scott’s hand then turned black, as the pain coursed from y/n’s body, into his own. stiles watched her face, brows lifting in hope as he watched the painful expression on her face fall. she relaxed back into his arms, the trembling of her body ceasing just a bit.

“there,” scott patted stiles’ shoulder. “that should help. but, you need to get her out of here. i don’t know what will happen if she gets stuck between us and the alpha pack.

“i know,” stiles lips trembled as pressed a kiss to her forehead. a tear escaped his head. then, he twisted his head towards jennifer. she finally met his eye, looking just a little uncomfortable. stiles frowned, “i know, scott. but- where’s my dad? where the fuck is my dad? does she have him still?”

jennifer went to respond, a cocky look in her eyes. but, the doors to the elevators opened, again. they had arrived to whatever floor scott had pressed the button for. stiles assumed it was where cora’s room was. scott stepped forward, bracing the situation with a hand atop the door so it could not close. it was relatively quiet on this floor, aside from the flickering lights, the blaring alarm, and the scattered patient’s charts across the floor. after their hesitation to gauge the situation, derek rushed towards cora’s room.

stiles didn’t really pay attention as scott and derek investigated. he kept a watchful eye on jennifer, gently brushing y/n’s hair from her forehead with a shaky hand. it was grounding, it helped him focus. jennifer met his gaze, again, a coy smile curling into her lips.

she narrowed her eyes and glanced down to y/n, “poor girl. how many broken ribs does she have? is she concussed, or no? what’s the state of our patient, mr. stilinksi?”

stiles licked his lips as his jaw rolled in frustration. his voice was low, “after you help us find my dad, i am going to kill you-“

“have her symptoms set in yet?” jennifer took a daring step forward, interrupting him.

stiles’ brows furrowed, just slightly, “wha-what? what other symptoms?”

y/n coughed, a movement that racked her entire body. jennifer flicked her brows up, as if she had been anticipating this. stiles glanced down at y/n, and noticed some black liquid lining her lips. she coughed, again, face scrunched in pain. a small trial of what stiles could only assume was black blood trickled down her chin.

stiles’ breathing hastened and he looked back up at jennifer, “what did you do to her? what the fuck did you do to her? you-you fix it! right now! fix her, or i’m going to tear every limb from your body!”

jennifer chuckled, “your threats don’t scare me, stiles. after all, you’re just a human. you’re nothing compared to scott. you don’t have claws or fangs.”

as jennifer spoke, she circled around stiles, forcing him to take small steps backwards, away from her threatening presence. he looked to scott and derek, who were fighting for their lives. he was on his own.

“you just have your annoying sense of humor, your inability to ever stop speaking. and, now,” she gestured at y/n with an amused expression, “a dying girlfriend.”

stiles sneaker skidded against the linoleum floor as he backed up out of the elevator. he looked down at his feet to keep his trembling balance. and, when he looked back up, the doors of the elevator were slowing closely. jennifer was getting away.

“good luck!” she waved slyly.

behind him, scott, derek, and the twins continued fighting. their mangled roars were evident, now, as stiles’ focused shifted from jennifer to their chaos. he glanced down at y/n, heart thumping wildly, now. the black blood was coating her chin, bubbling between her lips. but, she was still passed out.

stiles could no longer manage his anger. it was coursing through his veins, white, hot. he felt like he would explode.

so, stiles carefully set y/n on an abandoned hospital bed that was pushed up against the wall. he tried to roll her into what had been cora’s room, just to get her out of the way, so he could focus his anger towards something useful. but before he could, ethan and aiden threw a piece of fallen ceiling towards them. stiles barely managed to dodge out of the way before another piece followed the other. he came back onto his feet, quickly, rushing to y/n’s side. he used every ounce of strength to push y/n’s bed inside the room. his sneakers squealed against the floor. then, stiles heard a roar, and he looked up again, just in time.

the anger was heating up his reddened face, now. he searched for a weapon in the hallway, something to not only defend himself with, but something to fight back.

ethan and aiden were running towards him. stiles cursed under his breath as they neared. he found a pipe, ripped from the wall, on the floor by his feet. stiles gripped it in his fists and, with the strength only ever garnered by a boy protecting someone he loved, stiles hit the werewolves over their stupid, conjoined head.

they were sent, toppling, down the hallway. scott and derek rounded the mound of mangled skin and bone, glancing between it and stiles with an astounded shock.

“nice going,” scott held out a fist for stiles’ to pound with his own. instead, his friend pushed it away, slowly.

stiles looked up at scott with a crinkled expression, tears welling up in his eyes, “she’s dying, scott.”

–

the world came crashing down around stiles. he didn’t know what to do.

scott abandoned his friend, running off with deucalion to try to get answers to solve their problems. he instructed stiles to get y/n to dr. deaton- but he wasn’t going to help. stiles tried not to focus on his frustration that came from scott’s willingness to leave him, alone, with a dying girl- and not just any girl, but stiles’ girl.

so, stiles focused his energy on quickly awakening derek, hoping he would help get her to the animal clinic. he knew he would run into troubles, and he needed a werewolf on his side. after all, jennifer was right. he was just a human. he didn’t have any powers.

but, derek simply scooped up cora, and prepared to leave the hospital.

stiles stood in the door of the elevator blocking it as derek pressed a button. he demanded derek to help him. “derek!” stiles begged, voice less assertive, but more so just weak, “please! you have to help me! she-she’s dying! you have to help me!”

“i have to help my family first,” derek set cora against the wall of the elevator. he stepped forward, a hand raised in a move to shove stiles out of the way.

but, instead, stiles gripped at derek’s hand, a weary, bargaining look in his eyes, “you know i would help you! derek- you know i’d help. we can take them both there-! cmon, derek. pls-please?”

derek hesitated as stiles’ tone cracked. it seemed like he might, maybe, help stiles. his hesitation gave stiles a glimmer of hope. but, then, derek glanced over at cora, at the black blood pouring out of every crevice of her body. he ripped his hand from stiles touch, “i can’t.”

he refused to meet stiles’ sad eyes as he backed up into the elevator. stiles was frozen. derek thought he would have to shove the boy from the elevator, but, after a second, stiles took his own step back. his body was slack, still.

he was alone.

just as the doors began to close, derek finally met the burning gaze coming from stiles’ dark eyes. “you know i’d help you, derek.”

derek’s head dipped low.

tears streamed down stiles cheeks, a silent cry that took up every ounce of energy he had left. stiles watched the elevator close, secure and tight, hands slack at his sides. all of a sudden, a scream rose from his throat. stiles kicked at the stupid metal box, hard, yelling loudly.

a sob racked through his body as he turned back to y/n. stiles ripped his hands through his hair, kicking ripped pipes, pieces of ceiling, skidding them across the floor.

stiles came to slouch on the edge of her bed. he wanted to just lay at her side, content to suffocate within her shadow. he didn’t even know where to begin. he didn’t know how to get her out of here, to the animal clinic.

the police were here. the storm had blocked off several roads. jennifer was running loose again. the alpha pack was still on the prowl. stiles’ dad was missing.

and y/n was dying.

he at least knew the end goal, which was better than nothing- get her to the animal clinic. but, he had so many obstacles in his way. so many obstacles that required supernatural abilities he just did not have.

stiles slowly turned his head to y/n, shoulders dropped, head hung low. he brushed his finger across her temple. he smoothed the hair back from her forehead. “i’m so sorry,” he lips blubbered.

stiles felt like he had failed her. no- he knew he had failed her. because he had. “i’m so sorry, baby.” stiles crouched over her body, his head in the crook of her still neck, sobbing like a baby.

he’d gotten her caught up into this mess with his stupid lies and manipulation, when he could have just told her the truth. all of this could have been avoided. but, now; she was on her death bed. and it was all his fault.

he had killed her.

stiles stared at her for a while, maybe just a few minutes, admiring her peaceful beauty. he ran his fingers over her cheeks. he’d been in this position so many times before. but never like this. his chest, though filled with fear, mourning, made some room for the love he felt for her. because he did- he loved her. he loved her so much.

his mind raced, as he wondered when it was that he finally realized he loved her.

had it been the time she met his dad? when she sat with them after her shift and ate dinner? when she spoke of her dream for after high school, when she shared the most intimate details of her hopes? he remembered how much his heart had swelled as she talked. she was so smart, so intelligent and creative. he knew she had a bright, hopefully future outside of this stupid town.

or had it been the week earlier, when he had gone to her house for just a hook up. they watched a movie, some stupid, pointless movie that he talked through the majority. he kept looking over at her as she giggled, face lit dimly by the television. his chest constructed each time she laughed. everyone always thought his jokes were dumb, but she- she laughed.

then, they had sex, and stiles felt her in his bones. he felt her fingers like they were apart of his own hand and he felt her breath strung against his rib cage. she was becoming his, and he was becoming hers. they were each other’s, a rare but beautiful, promising thing. in this world, in this town- it was everything.

maybe that was it. maybe that was the moment he knew. when he realized she was everything to him.

stiles lifted his head, an energy pulsing through his bloodstream. maybe he didn’t have supernatural abilities. maybe the road ahead seemed impossible. and maybe, just maybe, he’d die at her side- but he would only die trying. for her. always for her. everything for her.

anything.

he knew, now, that he could do this, even if he had to go it alone. but, he wasn’t going to have to.

stiles lifted y/n, carefully, in his arms, again. her head hung over his arm, arm strewn towards the ground. stiles knew she was fading fast. he had to go- now.

but, then, the elevator bell dinged.

stiles looked towards the sound. a small ounce of fear itched at his brain. he didn’t know what was awaiting them on the other side of the doors.

then, they opened- and he breathed a sigh of relief.

allison, danny, and isaac stepped into the hallway, determined looks on their faces. danny drug his eyes from stiles, down to y/n. he took a deep, nervous breath, before met stiles’ tearful gaze, again.

“well,” danny spoke, a little fearful, but confident in his tone, “are we gonna save my best friend, or what?”

stiles nodded, once, “yes, we are. i have to tell her. i need her to know that i love her.”

#derek x stiles #stiles stilinksi fanfiction #stiles stilinksi imagine #stiles stilinksi x reader #stiles stilinski #stiles x lydia #stiles x reader #teen wolf #teen wolf stiles #teen wolf x reader

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captonite · 29 days ago

Text

Operation: Sleepy Princess

This is full cozy chaos, overprotective brother energy, a dash of fluff overload, and the boys being absolutely unhinged about making sure their girl sleeps like the royal gremlin she is.

It started the morning after.

Chubs had finally gotten some decent rest — ten full hours, dead to the world, curled up in Dean’s bed while Sam and Cas took shifts outside like she was some kinda goddamn princess in a tower (Dean’s words. Sam had the audacity to agree).

And when she woke up?

She was still groggy, dragging her blanket around like a cape, yawning like a sleepy kitten.

Sam looked at her, then at Dean.

Dean looked at her, then at Cas.

They all nodded.

Operation: Sleepy Princess was officially in motion.

Step One: Bedtime Reinforcements

“We’re starting a new routine,” Sam said like a camp counselor.

“A bedtime routine,” Dean clarified. “Like babies do. Or soldiers. Or, y’know, anyone who isn’t actively trying to die from sleep deprivation.”

“I wasn’t trying to die,” Chubs said around a mouthful of cereal.

“You were functioning on three hours a night and sadness,” Sam replied flatly. “That’s a slow suicide, sweetheart.”

Dean snapped his fingers. “New rule. Phones off at ten.”

“You’re on TikTok until two.”

“Yeah, well, I’m older. I’ve earned the right to be a hypocrite.”

“And if you’re restless,” Sam added, “you knock on one of our doors. Even if it’s locked.”

Chubs turned pink. “Okay…”

“And I will be supervising the nightly ritual,” Cas announced solemnly, “including meditation and herbal tea. Dean, you will not be permitted to add whiskey.”

“I only did that once!”

“Enough to sedate a horse,” Sam muttered.

---

Step Two: Princess Treatment Mode Activated

Sam researches sleep science like he’s prepping for the MCAT.

Dean raids three Targets and comes back with:

Weighted blanket ("for anxiety")

Lavender candles ("for vibes")

Four fuzzy sleep shirts that say things like Nap Queen and I Need Coffee Before I Talk To You.

Cas? Cas hand-crafts a sigil that “softens nightmares and neutralizes intrusive thoughts.” He places it under her pillow with absolutely no dramatic flair. (Okay. A little dramatic flair.)

They literally tuck her in.

“Goodnight, little gremlin,” Dean says, kissing the top of her head like it’s just another Tuesday.

“Sleep well, baby,” Sam murmurs, fixing her blanket for the third time.

Cas just stares for a second, then solemnly says, “Do not fear the dark. I have killed worse things hiding in it.”

“Okay,” Chubs whispers. “That’s actually comforting, thank you.”

---

Step Three: Chaos, Actually

By Day 4, she’s sleeping 7 hours a night, but the boys are not satisfied.

They’re thriving.

Dean makes her “nap-time burritos” (where he literally rolls her in the blanket and plops her on the couch). Sam builds her a playlist called sleepy babygirl vibes. Cas does angelic pressure-point massages that kind of work, but also tickle like hell.

She starts to get annoyed.

“Guys,” she huffs one afternoon, glaring at them from the cocoon of her weighted blanket. “I feel fine now. You can stop.”

Sam, without breaking eye contact: “You yawned seven minutes ago.”

Cas, solemnly: “You blinked too slow. That’s suspicious.”

Dean: “Nap. Now.”

She tries to fight it.

But then Sam pulls her into a warm hoodie that smells like cinnamon, Dean tosses her a snack-sized bag of pretzels, and Cas lights the stupid lavender candle…

And yeah, okay. She dozes off in the War Room with all three of them sitting nearby, bickering in low voices and pretending they totally didn’t notice the tiny smile on her face as she falls asleep.

---

Step Four: Movie Night Madness

On Day 6, they declare victory.

Dean orders pizza.

Sam makes cocoa.

Cas picks the movie (he does not understand Howl’s Moving Castle, but admits the animation is “emotionally resonant”).

Chubs curls up in the middle of the couch with Dean’s flannel and Sam’s hoodie, toes tucked under Cas’s coat, surrounded by snacks and safety and so much love she feels like she could burst.

Dean falls asleep first — mouth open, arms folded, snoring like a truck engine.

Cas follows, head tilted gently against her shoulder.

Sam only lasts five more minutes before he slumps sideways, glasses crooked, hand still loosely holding a half-eaten marshmallow.

Chubs, wrapped in her three-boy blanket pile, whispers into the dark:

“Best sleep ever.”

#dean winchester #dean winchester x sister!reader #sam winchester #sam winchester x sister!reader #castiel #castiel x winchester!reader #supernatural fluff #supernatural

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alwerakoo · 11 months ago

Text

as tall as you think

Tales of the TMNT Leo & Raph word count: 2k CW: anxiety disorder (aka: Leo has anxiety - the fic)

AO3

---

There are glow-in-the-dark stars taped to the bottom of Mikey's bed.

They're so old he can't remember if it was him of his brother that insisted on it, and they're so old he never once considered taking them off – carefully taping his posters and pictures to the space around them. It's like a game at this point – finding any leftover room for new things.

Raph traces them with his gaze, his fingers laced across his stomach.

Leo's mattress squeaks as he shifts in his bed again, his feet brushing against the brick wall.

Raph bites on his cheek.

Mikey can fall asleep anywhere at any time, and Donnie's brain doesn't shut off without something absurdly loud blasting in his ears. Raph can hear it even now, music faintly bleeding out of his headphones.

But Raph and Leo have always been light sleepers at best – borderline insomniacs at worst. It's one thing they have in common, and like all the things they have in common – they're so different in it at the same time.

Raph's body feels electric, his veins all adrenaline and excitement – no blood. He spends many nights restless, the last one to go to bed and the first one to rise.

He trains, the line between his fingers and sai always blurry; he paces around the lair; he runs along rooftops, feet dangling off the edge. And then his body shuts off, as sudden as a car shutting down on a red light, and he passes out – dead to the world.

He runs himself dry, and then he picks himself up again, over and over again.

When Leo stays up, he's a shadow of himself the next morning.

Raph sighs, quietly, his mind ticking away the minutes till he'll be able to sneak out of the room without Dad sitting right on his tail.

In his bed, Leo shifts again.

Raph sighs again, louder this time.

“You up?” He asks, voice lowered.

Leo's quiet for a moment, his shell turned to Raph, until he finally exhales, giving in.

“Yeah.”

Raph sits up, shifting to his knees. He takes his pillow with him, tucking it under his chest as he turns, facing Leo's bed without a moment of hesitation, like its second nature.

At this point, it might as well be.

It's an old tradition of theirs – maybe even older than the stars on his ceiling.

All four of them have been sharing beds, rooms, spaces for as long as he can recall. It's not home without his brothers, even if Mikey has a tendency to snore, the light from Donnie's phone or computer woke him up on more than one occasion, and Leo never quite grew out of the habit of borrowing things without asking.

The room is all of theirs, but late nights belong to him and Leo only.

Raph and Leo never had that much in common, always opposites in some way or another, like two puzzle pieces from the same box, but not made to snap together.

When Raph was younger, he never had patience for puzzles. He'd push the carton and paper squares until they fit, by sheer force and spite alone.

He'd make Leo cry with that, because his brother always did when they broke the rules to any game, which made him a rotten playmate, but taught Raph the valuable skill of never quite letting Leo know when he was making up new ones.

Sometimes, during late nights, in the glow of Leo's fairy lights and Raph's stars, he's doing it again.

But he doesn't think Leo minds this time around.

They've spent hours like this, and sometimes, Raph thinks he wouldn't mind if this was the rest of his life.

Sometime ago, April asked them what they thought their heaven would look like. It was a silly question, related to some show that Raph was only half paying attention to. He can't quite remember what he answered, something related to this or other celebrity.

It was a lie anyway.

He thinks it would be this.

Leo shifts, turning to lay on his stomach, arms crossed under his chin.

“What's up?” Raph asks.

Leo's fingers drum on his forearms, and he takes a deep breath, like he has to steady himself.

“Nothing,” he says, and he's a bad lair. “Just... Hanging out.”

“Hanging out?”

“Yeah,” Leo says, and Raph can almost hear his mind racing.

He's barely exaggerating.

His brother's brain always seemed to work a mile a minute, too fast for his own good, his thoughts too big. He knows Leo struggles to catch up with his own mind sometimes, words spilling out of his mouth like he was going to swallow down his own tongue.

He thinks it might be even worse when he's staying quiet.

“You're getting worked up about something again,” Raph huffs.

Leo raises his head, frowning, probably to feel a little taller than him.

He's been outgrowing Leo since they were toddlers, and he doesn't think his brother ever quite got over it.

“I'm not,” Leo says defensively, his fingers flexing against his pillow.

“Yes, you are,” Raph says. “Look at you, you've got the shakes.”

Leo looks down at his own hands, like he just noticed them.

He shifts, intertwining his fingers under his chin, then turns again, laying them flat on the pillow, not helping his point in the slightest.

“Come on, man. Work with me.”

Raph puts his elbow on his pillow, cheek resting against his palm.

He's known Leo all his life, and knows his tendency to work himself up to the point of boiling, always over nothing, like the back of his own hand.

Leo tried explaining it to them, once.

How he runs something over and over in his mind, until it takes on a completely new shape, until he can't remember what parts really happened and what parts he's scared of happening.

How he can lay out every reason why he shouldn't bother himself about it, but his fingers still go numb and stiff, and his heart races in his throat like he's going to choke on it.

How he gets sick on his own thoughts.

Raph never quite got it.

But Donnie must've, because he pulled Leo into his tent that evening, their voices hushed and the light from the computer's monitor bright.

That night, Leo didn't take his mask off to sleep, and he chewed on the ends of it until they frayed.

Raph doesn't remember ever finding out what they talked about, but he knows that after came a lot of ''articles'' that Donnie was sending and that Leo never read. They argued about it some.

But what Raph does know, is that there's no real calming when Leo gets like this. It's best to let him run his course, let him spill over – his worry and nerves deep but not endless. Or so he hopes.

“I'm just...” Leo says finally, drumming his fingers against his palm, seemingly completely forgetting about keeping them still. “It's kind of stupid.”

“You are kind of stupid,” Raph says, on instinct. Leo sends him a glare, and he raises his hands up in a defensive gesture. “Alright, alright, just shoot.”

Leo bites his lip, lowering his gaze.

“I just keep thinking...” He doesn't look at Raph when he says it, but there's a certain panicked quality to his words, like he's scared he's going to run out of them at any second. “We almost died, Raph.”

Raph blinks.

He shifts a little in his place, mulling over Leo's words, until he finally says:

“Well, yeah. Which time specifically?”

Leo's neck straightens, and there's a new expression on his face, something open and wounded.

“That's the thing!” He catches himself raising his voice, and lowers it again. “So many times. Like, that's not...” He takes a shaky breath. “What if something happened to any of us? Any of you?”

Instinctively, Raph reaches back, tracing his fingers over the healed shell – a leftover scar from splitting it in half.

“But we didn't. Die, I mean,” he says.

It is true.

There's a certain gratefulness he carries with himself nowadays. Every day he gets to wake up and eat breakfast next to his family, every day he gets to bicker with his brothers in the evening, every day he gets to stretch his back and feel the ache in his shell slowly fade away.

He doesn't think about the 'what ifs'. They're not worth it.

He tells Leo so, but his brother only scratches at his arm, his shoulders raising, like he's trying to hide away.

“It's not that.” He huffs. “It was real. That's not a 'what if', it's an 'almost reality'.”

“Yeah, that's what 'what if' means, dipshit.” Raph scoffs.

He's not really annoyed, more so confused.

“You don't get it.” Leo sounds more upset now; he speaks a little faster. “We could've died, Raph. Isn't that terrifying?”

Raph sucks on his teeth.

Right, maybe he is a little annoyed. But only on Leo's behalf, for the way his stupid brain functions.

“I mean... It was, in the moment.”

He winces a little, seeing the face Leo pulls at that.

“Yeah. And it still is!” He doesn't bother lowering his voice anymore. “You're telling me you never think about it?”

“No,” Raph says, which is mostly true. “I try not to,” he adds, which is a little more honest.

“Well, that's what I'm trying to do!” Leo turns suddenly, laying with his back flat on the bed. “But it keeps catching up to me.”

“Seems like you're not trying hard enough,” he says.

He knows it’s a mistake the moment the words leave his mouth.

Leo's fingers squeeze his blanket so much they shake. His throat bobs, and there's a certain twitch to his lips that Raph knows all too well.

It makes something in his chest squeeze painfully.

“Are you going to cry?” He says, and it's a genuine question.

It doesn't really sound like one, he realizes.

There's a sudden flash of anger on Leo's face, and he raises his hands, throwing them in the air.

“Well, I'm sorry?” His voice pitches, all wobbly. “Sorry for having emotions! God, you're such an asshole.”

Leo pushes his palms against his wet eyes, taking in a shaky breath.

They lay in silence for a minute or two, taking in the quiet beat of Donnie's music and Mikey's soft snore.

“Sorry for caring about you.” Leo says finally, putting his hands down.

He sounds wet and fragile, and petty as hell, which Raph supposes he can't blame him for.

This is the thing, he supposes. It's how it goes with them.

Leo used to always cry whenever one of them did; those big, sad tears that used to annoy Raph to no end, because what does Leo have to cry about?

He started to understand it more as they got older.

He likes when Leo cries holding him, when Raph's own emotions get too big to carry. It makes him feel cared for, in a way. Validated, maybe.

He thinks about that now, watching his brother sniffle, and says:

“Well, I'm sorry, too.”

Leo turns to look at him, his cheek on the pillow.

Raph turns away, just so he doesn't have to endure Leo looking at him with those eyes.

And damn it, he's always had the biggest, saddest eyes.

He thinks about Leo when they were younger, how much he cared for things like rules, and putting their toys away at the end of the day, and keeping out of the places Dad told them to stay away from. And how much he cared for them.

Leo cares for all of them so much, and this is how he shows it.

Raph is grateful to still get to fall asleep next to his brothers every day. Leo is scared, that one day he won't.

“... Apology accepted,” Leo whispers, wiping his nose on the back of his hand.

Then he grimaces, as if disgusted with himself.

Raph shifts on his bed, pushing his shell up the wall.

“Come here,” he says, pulling his covers away.

It's been a while.

They're both bigger now, and Leo's shell doesn't fit fully on the bed, and his knee digs into his thigh, but it doesn't really matter, because Raph doesn't need their puzzle pieces to fit perfectly to make his point.

“I'm here,” he tells him. “So I can't be dead, right? That's what matters. This the 'actual reality', Lee.”

Leo sniffles once again.

“Yeah,” he says, quietly. Then, very suddenly: “Donnie says it's anxiety.”

Raph frowns.

“What?”

“My...” He stops for a moment, like he's considering his own words. “When I get the shakes.” He decides on, finally.

“Oh,” Raph says. “Okay.”

“He says I should talk to a doctor about it.”

They've been to the doctors a few times now – once they figured out that for what it was worth, veterinarians have a better general understanding of turtles. But he's not sure how much vets could know about Leo's brain.

“Do you want to?” He asks instead.

Leo shrugs, and that's that. Raph doesn't push.

They don't say anything after that, and Leo curls up on his side, his forehead touching Raph's elbow.

Raph watches the stars on his ceiling and the posters surrounding them.

He's still able to make space for them. He's making them fit.

And he'll do the same for his brother.

Every time.

#fanfiction #tottmnt #tales of the teenage mutant ninja turtles #tmnt #ff #tales of the tmnt #mutant mayhem #fanfic

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