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eurynome827 · 5 years

Text

Anniversary: Scenes From A Staycation

A Honey & Salt Story

Pairing: Sebastian Stan x Reader

Word Count: 1474

Warnings: language, vague fluffersmut, a surprising amount of maybe angst?

Summary: It’s been a year.

*This series is fiction - I do not know this man and this is an alternate universe RPF with no basis in fact.*

When you two first met, it was just a fun fact. Your birthdays were exactly two weeks apart.

As you grew closer - even granting each other the coveted title "best friend"- the halfway point became the day you celebrated. He would try to be in town, you would take off, if it was around a weekend it became "Birthday Weekend".

This year Birthday Weekend had an unnatural tension attached to it.

Last year's Birthday Weekend had been ...eventful. Now this wasn't just the latest in a series of times between best friends.

Now, it was an Anniversary.

One Month Before

"Are you sure this is what you want? You don't want to do something more special?"

"Excuse me, pal, last year we spent Birthday Weekend in your apartment. A beach house isn't special enough?"

"Last year's Birthday Weekend DID work out well..."

You could almost hear his raised eyebrows over the phone, just as you were sure he could hear your eyeroll.

Details were set, you swore you'd make all the arrangements if he could guarantee he'd be home on time. Birthday Weekend in a beach house on Fire Island. Staycation.

Then the chatter started.

Your friends. Your parents. Your mutual friends - Evans on the phone, grateful you couldn't punch him over FaceTime. "Think he's got something SPECIAL planned?"

"Can you shut the fuck up for two seconds?" You huffed in reply. "Considering it was my idea to rent the house, and he thought it wasn't 'special' enough, no I don't think so."

"Not special enough, huh?" Evans smirked.

"I hate you."

Friday

You arrived on the first morning ferry, getting the key for the house from the rental office and pulling the wagon with the week's supplies behind you the three blocks down to your ocean view house. It was perfect, with a porch facing the sea and a walk straight down to the beach. After getting everything settled you changed into your bathing suit and had a mimosa on the porch before throwing on your cover-up to walk to the dock for the afternoon ferry's arrival.

When Sebastian arrived on the ferry you were waiting, a rocket fuel in each hand.

"Don't spill the drinks!" You admonished, giggling as he swept you up.

"Happy Birthday Weekend," he whispered in your ear.

He set you down, and you kissed him quickly, not wanting to make a scene on the dock. It had been a year of skating by on the past reputation of "best friends" and it was a miracle you'd stayed under wraps.

"Here you loon," you grinned up at him as you handed him his drink, leading the way down the path. "Happy Birthday Weekend. Welcome to paradise."

Friday Evening

"Accept the fact that the pizza is overpriced. Everything has to be delivered by boat here, it comes at a premium."

"I didn't complain once," he handed you another beer and opened his own, settling on the porch swing and looking over at you warily. "You alright? You're very on edge."

"NOT on edge." You took a long swallow. "We have to get pizza tonight, it's tradition. Tomorrow we can go out or we can cook, whatever you want."

"Probably better to stay in," he answered and the unspoken words were there again. Don't get recognized. Don't get your picture taken alone in the restaurant without the life jacket of your friends surrounding you - have someone tweet it and then Birthday Weekend becomes the publicity stunt heard round the world.

You looked at him, and something about his eyes - the sun low in the sky, the sound of the ocean - and a grateful wave washed over you. "I'm so happy we're here. I missed you."

He pulled you into his lap. "Nowhere else I'd rather be."

You got the pizza and ate on the porch, the sound of the waves in your ears long after the sun has set low enough and the view past the porch rail is a long dark punctuated only by the lighthouse and the pinpricks of bright stars.

Jet lag forced him to bed early, and you cuddle next to him, as always seeking out the heat of his skin against yours and relishing in the promise of what's to come when he wakes up.

Saturday Morning

You're not sure what wakes you - the screaming sea gull on the roof or Sebastian's lips on your inner thigh.

"Finally," you tease, voice husky from sleep and his own chuckle in response warms your heart.

He's already taken you apart twice before he kisses back up your body till he reaches your neck and he holds you tight and rolls you over on top. There's never time needed to be reacquainted. You've memorized each other a million times over but it's still so good, so new, so perfect.

Except for trips to the bathroom and to the kitchen for coffee, you're in the bed until early afternoon.

Saturday Afternoon

After a small breakfast on the porch, you both set up in the sand a stone's throw from the house, away from the beachgoers clustered at the shore. It's not as busy on this stretch of the beach anyway, as the day trippers tend to stay in groups around the lifeguard stations. Here it's just the other renters, and you're not as worried on the few trips down to the water you both take to cool off.

It's quiet, and peaceful, and exactly what you wanted.

Then you go and ruin it all.

Saturday Evening

Mindful of his training, you'd brought chicken and vegetables to cook for Saturday, trying to at least be creative in your seasoning. He'd already strayed enough with the pizza and all the drinking - but it's Birthday Weekend.

He set the table and you poured the wine before you both sat down. Everything was great until he pulled a ring box out of his pocket and placed it on the table.

The words were out before you could stop them.

"I don't want to get married."

He looked at you, expressionless. "Okay."

"Fuck - I can't believe this. Everyone tried to hype me up for this and I thought you would never in a million years do this. You don't want to get married either! You've always said that."

"Babe -" he reached out for you, and you stood up so fast you knocked over your chair.

"Even fucking EVANS told me and I told him to shut the fuck up. I can't believe this."

"Hey!" He raised his voice, and you stopped babbling. "I'm not proposing. Open the box."

You picked it up with shaking hands and opened it.

"It's our birthstone. Oh, honey. It's beautiful."

"I don't care which finger you put it on, but you seem really concerned about that." He looked up at you, biting his lip - and not in a fun way.

"I ruined it." Your face crumpled and you barely registered him pulling you into his lap. "I ruined Birthday Weekend. Everyone got in my head."

He wrapped his arms around you. "Babe. You didn't ruin anything. But we should talk."

Late Saturday Night

Hours after eating, lots more wine, and a very uncharacteristically serious discussion later and the two of you were finally in bed.

It was almost laughable how two people who felt so similar about things could find it so difficult to tell the other person. For a year everything had worked so well. "Maybe we were just due for it," you murmured as his lips trailed across your neck.

"For what?"

"A big serious discussion. Can't have fun all the time."

He raised his head and looked you in the eyes. "Watch me."

You shook him awake, feeling only a little guilty at the lack of sleep. He groaned and pulled you closer but you pushed away with a giggle.

Sunday At Sunrise

"Seb."

"Let's watch the sun rise."

He made an unintelligible noise.

"Come on, babe."

"Okay. Then bed."

You dragged him out to the porch and faced the east. Wrapped in a blanket together in the morning chill, the sun's sudden appearance rising over the Atlantic took your breath away.

"Yeah, that was worth getting out of bed for," he admitted, and started to wrap his arms around you tighter but you turned to face him.

"I love you."

He squeezed your waist. "I know you do."

"No, I mean it. I really love you. I don't care what anyone says, I don't care if the whole world knows, I am who I truly am right now with you. That's all that matters."

His eyes were soft and as blue as the ocean in the new sunlight. "You love me, huh?"

You pulled him as close to you as you could. "You know I do."

#honey and salt #anniversary: scenes from a staycation #sebastian stan #sebastian stan x reader #sebastian stan fanfiction

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alkhale · 6 years

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hi! idk if youre still doing requests (please ignore this if you're not!) but would you be willing to write something about hawks trying to win over/court an omega who is really prickly/rough around the edges/hates being an omega? thank you very much! im sorry if you arent open for requests!

OFC YOU CAN HAVE AN ALPHA! HAWKS HERE YA GO

Another ko-fi request! This was a blast to write so ty for the prompt

No Need (Alpha!Hawks x Omega!Reader)

“What the heck is that?”

In hindsight, for a man who prided himself on always trying to look at things from a bird’s eye view, he probably should’ve foreseen what would happen after.

But Hawks was twenty-two and tired, so cut him some slack.

To his credit, you don’t look annoyed or offended. There’s a slight twitch to your brow, a faint downwards curve of your lip. You don’t look up from where you’ve been doing your paperwork, filing away his latest mission reports. “Papers.”

Hawks thumbed the cup of coffee in his left hand. He shifted on his feet and then thumbed the other cup in his right hand. He’d gotten two, one for you and one for him as your usual routine called for. You were always sliding time out for him to bring him something and it was only right he do the same for you–strictly as a kind boss and a good worker (which is what he would say to you until you gave him the signal that he could say otherwise). He’d even gotten the cream right this time, just the way you liked that always made you smile that kinda small, goofy and cute smile that made some more primal part of him pleased that he was doing something right.

He’d said once as an offhanded joke to test the waters that it was an alpha’s job after all to take care of his “pack.” You, despite being a beta, had refused the coffee if that was the case and told him he should’ve gone with flock instead.

Second genders are strictly secondary. He swallowed, a breezy grin curling over his lips as he arched one of his brows and tipped his head to the side. His wings shifted against his back, ruffling uncertainly because, well, yeah that had been the idea but now…

It didn’t look comfortable, for sure. Sleek, black, and sturdy. It curved around your neck and protected all the sensitive spots any typical omega would need to look out for when it came to unwanted advances. Forced marking could be considered a crime under certain circumstance, and the popularity in such protective collars had skyrocketed with recent realization that sometimes matters had to be taken into your own hands.

The collar clipped neatly around your neck, complete with a small silver flower to make the whole thing seem a little cuter than it actually was. Hawks’ brain was currently trying to reroute itself and arrive back on track because the biggest problem here was–

“You’re an omega?” Hawks swallowed.

The coffees in his hands suddenly felt like dead weight. There was a urging in the back of his mind to take this information with him and fly as fucking far with it as he could because–yes, yes, yes. He wanted you–beta, omega, hell, he’d find some way to work with it if you were an alpha too just…you. This sudden realization suddenly had his instincts shifting to attention and as annoying as the damn things were half the time, in his opinion, he felt strangely in line with them today as he stared, watching your face avidly and eyes dipping down to your wrists and then back to your protected neck.

He wanted to hold you, touch you, contact, contact, contact.

Right there. His mind urged. Right there. Right there. Make it happen. You can do this.

Your face went tense for a moment. Brows creased and you stopped writing at his question. Hawks’ mind quickly backpedaled and he racked his entire brain for a semblance of charm and persuasion to have you seeing him as much more than just a boss (maybe in the bedroom) and as someone who could potentially be your mate.

He justed wanted to make you happy.

“Well, it’s just that,” Hawks continued easily, setting the coffee down gently on your desk so he could free one hand. “I always thought you might’ve been a beta.”

Your face slackened a bit at that. So you don’t like being an omega. Your pen tapped against the paper, looking thoughtful and Hawks added, “Or an alpha to be honest.”

Your eyes flickered up to him, wide and searching and curious. God, I love those eyes. His wings shifted against his back, itching to curl around you on instinct to make this a private conversation between two. “You’re always taking such good care of me, you know? Getting things done, always on top of stuff… There’s no way I’d make it this far without you.”

“You’re too much,” you huffed. But there was a pleased little smile tugging at your lips and you hummed, pulling his coffee closer to you. Hawks felt his chest swell in pride and he leaned further on your desk, brushing the edge of his wing teasingly against the wood. “It’s just my job, you dork.”

“C’mon, I notice a lot more than you think I do,” Hawks protested. He casually dragged a finger against the smooth surface of your desk, drumming his fingers. “A lot, actually.”

You hummed in response, tipping the hot liquid towards your lips. Hawks reached upwards, fingers reaching past your cheek and you went rigid for a moment. He saw your nose twitch, your eyes flicker and he consciously urged his sent, his aura towards to just teasingly so. You were a special case, one that required a tactful approach and he’d do no less with you. His sent flooded your senses and he watched you throat bob as you swallowed thickly, bringing the coffee closer to your nose and his fingers tapped the hard metal of the collar.

Hawks frowned at the sound, tilting his head. “So what brought this on?”

If you felt the least bit threatened–he would step in. There was no way he’d allow you to feel such doubts and fear when he could do anything about. He was the number two hero for God’s sake–he could do this much for you at least.

You looked prettier without it anyways.

An image of his lips on you skin flashed through his mind and Hawks smiled, just short of starving.

You frowned, reaching up and brushing his hand aside as you touched your own collar. An angry scowl marred your lips and you scoffed. “Some asshole got a little too aggressive at the train station. Think just because my heat’s coming I’m an easy fix? What a load of crap.”

Hawks took two important bits of information from that sentence. Filing one away for his own personal use, he latched onto the other, “You filed a report, didn’t you?”

His wings fluffed out, making him look twice his size. “Accurate descriptions. I’ll find him myself and make sure he doesn’t do a single thing again. I can’t have my cute secretary being bothered on her way home from work.”

“Thanks, hero,” you grinned, shaking your head. “They took him in for questioning. It’s fine, I can take care of myself.” You flashed him a sharper look and he held up his hands placatingly, setting them back down closer to yours. “Just… felt like I should put this on for good measure is all.”

You sneered at the desk, “Since it’s so hard for people to resist an omega in heat. Jerks don’t even think that it’s their fault, always ours.”

Hawks made a mental note to look into the case anyway and see to it personally. His wings drooped a bit, an easy task to make himself appear at ease and inviting. He pushed out with a soothing scent, urging you to relax yourself and he hummed lowly in his throat when he saw your shoulders slacken a bit and your eyes fluttered shut as you inhaled.

“People only see omegas when they want to see them,” you murmured, eyes fluttering open and he watched as you subconsciously reached out with a finger and he curved one wing around for you. Your index finger dragged against one of his contour feathers and Hawks’ low noise of approval increased, bordering a purr. You sighed, his scent curling thickly around the two of you like a protective blanket.

And to the employees skidding to a halt outside your door, a warning.

“That’s all we are,” you scowled. “Nothing more.”

A thoughtful look flickered over your features and you set your coffee down. “You know, you smell oddly good today. Kinda like–”

“I see you.”

You stopped. Your eyes blinked, wide and confused and traveled up to meet his gaze. Hawks reached up, bringing his visor down to hang around his neck. Those sharp eyes pinned you into place and you felt a chill you hadn’t felt in a long time run down your spine. Your throat closed up, senses flaring and you suddenly felt nothing more than a field mouse parting ferns beneath the watchful eyes of something far above you.

Predator.

Though his eyes were sharp, they burned. You felt a flare of warmth along your cheeks and Hawks smiled. A boyish, easy smile that curved against his roguish features. “I see ya.”

Walls rose up and you reminded yourself of the tightness of your collar. “Yeah, yeah, I get it–”

“So let me walk you home from now on,” Hawks said smoothly. Your lost your voice, words tumbling over your lips as you stared and he smiled. “Okay?”

“I can take care–”

“Not to take care of you,” Hawks shook his head, hand settling atop yours when did that get there and his fingers brushed against your wrist, “to keep me company. I’ve been missing you.”

“But–”

“And from now on,” his other hand had already set down the second coffee. You were still, lost in those swirling, engulfing eyes as his fingers curved around your collar. They brushed below your chin, tilting your head just a bit to the side and Hawks’ lips curved into a sharper grin.

Hungry.

You felt the collar loosen and a soft click resounded through your office. The weight of your collar slipped from your neck and onto the floor with a quiet thud. Hawks dragged a finger along the thin column of your neck and his scent washed over you, comforting, sweet, powerful and your normally witty and quipped remarks died on your tongue as his wings fanned out and curved over both of you.

Hawks leaned forward and the sun turned his eyes molten.

“You won’t need that anymore.”

- i was gonna make reader a little more catty but c’mon, he brought you coffee

#ko-fi request #hawks x reader #alpha!hawks #bnha omegaverse #omega!reader #hawks bnha #bnha reader insert #hawks

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benevolentcalamity · 6 years

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(I’m not confident in my ability to write Sangwoo’s character. As such, there may be mistakes. I’m sorry.)

To start things off, you don't consider yourself the colorful type. The kind that brightens up the room just by walking into it, that knows how to make people smile; that everyone can feel relaxed and happy around because of someone so amiable. That kind of person is someone you strive to be, and to be frank, it's more than possible.

Except, at the same time, it isn't.

What's your problem, exactly?

First and foremost, you're fresh out of high school - an online high school, to be exact. People your age tend to be rather haughty, rude even, so you were much less than inclined to go to a regular school campus. In addition to that, crowds tend to make you nervous. Actually, scratch that, you're petrified of them, mostly due to getting overstimulated easy and are thus more susceptible to panicking.

You like to believe things weren't always that way, though. It's not as though your memory can stretch too far anymore, but you want to imagine you were particularly sociable back in the day. Childhood's flown far away from you, taking the memories with it. As of right now, you're blissfully unaware of the possibilities resting in what you forgot. You will, however, continue to believe that the elementary and middle school days were so pretty good, especially with-

Fire, fire fire! Fire from the tongues of liars... You're ashamed of where you're from, Crying 'cause your father's drunk-

Your hand flops onto your phone, turning off the alarm in a quick sliding motion. Just like that, it falls limp beside it, a groan vibrating your throat. Eventually, you pick your head up, feeling your blankets slide off your head and shoulders as you rise up and turn until you're sitting up. Through narrowed eyelids, you take in your surroundings. The same fairy lights, the same variety of colors, the same... everything making up the safety of your bedroom.

Staring up at the color-changing lights, you can't help sighing, it turning into a yawn as you maneuver to the edge of your bed. Even with socks on, your floor feels almost unbearably cold. Standing, you stretch out until you nearly fistbump the ceiling fan, smacking your lips slightly before slowly coming to your senses.

One thing you know full well about yourself is that you're very well adjusted to this entire spiel, where because you no longer have school you have close to nothing to do with yourself. The only time you've gone out of the house is to go grocery shopping with your brother - something that happened once every two weeks, given there's only so much two people can eat in the whole house. It's actually kind of funny.

That's not to say you've given up on yourself, though. Had you given up on life itself out of undeniable stress, you wouldn't be doing the simple things like taking showers and changing your clothes every day. Matter of fact, you probably wouldn't be doing very well if you just gave up. As such, you're going to keep your promises and look for a college to go to. Oddly enough, whether or not you're doing online classes or on-campus classes is almost irrelevant; you miss being around people that much. To put it simply, you're beginning to forget what it feels like to have a normal conversation.

You run a hand through your hair, distinctly remembering showering last night. Rolling your shoulders back, you open one of your drawers, grabbing a hairbrush and running it through your hair. To your relief, it doesn't get caught on any knots, and you're left with perfectly combed hair. Kinda.

Leaning a bit, you open your drawers, finding some clothes. Maneuvering until the door is out of sight, you shed your pajamas, quickly jumping into your day clothes. Smoothing them out, you go over to your bed, turning off your lights and leaving your room, peering up and down the hall before going over to the stairs, going down and into the bathroom.

Turning on the faucet, you cup the cool water in your hands, rubbing it onto your face until it's clean. Finishing up your business, you dry off your face, leaving and going to the kitchen. Meandering about, you assemble what could be described as breakfast, sitting down to eat. As you do, you look around aimlessly, not being able to help frowning slightly at how the house never changes even once. At the very least, you'd like to see something cluttered, so that you'd have something to sort through.

The floor above lets out a variety of creaks, bringing you to attention. Quickly, you finish your meal, moving and washing your dishes and putting them aside, moving into the living room to sit, finding the remote and turning on the TV. Like usual, there's nothing particularly interesting, so you settle on a nature documentary, crossing your legs and leaning back. You're only marginally invested in learning about panda bears, but you will admit the camera people must have had a grand old time filming.

... Who all died when trying to film predators and snakes? How many of these have you watched? Which one was your favorite?

With a grating sigh, you listen to not just what's in front of you, but the other noises in the house. They're travelling from here to there, until eventually they're just nearby. Following that, you hear water in the pipes running, signifying one thing:

Sangwoo's up.

It's only seven in the morning, but your brother's not really the type to just hang around when he has classes. You wouldn't be lying if you ever said you wished he'd stay a bit longer - it gets really boring around here - but you also kind of want to spend more time with him. Then again, you're not inclined to go to the same college as him for the sole reason he wouldn't let you out of his sights if you did.

Even so, you can't help feeling like his has some opportunity, so you'll humor him and apply there for college, but there's another facility you want to go to: Hongik. It has dormitories, so you'll be away from home for it, but you're just not sure what Sangwoo would think of it. He's not really the type to be overly protective, but he's the precise reason that you can't even go outside for a breath of fresh air. At least, not without his permission.

It's infuriating, but what can you do about it? There's been some odd stuff happening as of late, considering the fact that the police force seems more aware and people have been disappearing. Mostly girls a little older than you, though - as such, you can see why nowadays Sangwoo is less than inclined to let you outside. Something could happen to you.

It really doesn't help that you're all he's got, and vice versa. Both your parents are dead, though both at different times. You don't remember much about dad, considering one day, he just... vanished. Of course, you were still pretty young at the time, so you didn't understand what had happened to him. All you knew was that you didn't see him much. Or maybe you did, and you don't remember anymore, per usual.

If you can put things in better words, the memories are gone, but the essence of them is still there, somewhat.

What did dad even look like...?

As for mom, she herself died later on in both of your lives. That was before Sangwoo dyed - bleached? - his hair, so you were old enough to remember. Unfortunately, you weren't around to see the circumstances in which she passed - you'd been up in your room, playing on one of those handheld games she'd gotten you for your birthday. So, you were too focused on it to realize something else was probably going on.

When you learned she was dead, though, you remember you were more than devastated. You kept thinking to yourself that you couldn't live without her; she was everything to you - you're sure of that. You've long forgotten her face and voice, but the essence of her memory is still there. And when you look at Sangwoo, you can feel it.

I wish she were still here... Maybe weekends wouldn't feel so lonely. Maybe you would still have your memories.

Since then, Sangwoo had kept beside you, taking care of you. Neither of you thought about leaving the house despite all the memories, good and bad, attached to it. Even with the emotional weight the deaths of your parents left, he wanted to stay right there, no if, ands, or buts. You didn't complain at first, but you still find yourself getting unreasonably anxious when you meander about the second floor.

The two of you had lost everything - so much that it shouldn't even have to hurt to lose each other. But it does, because the two of you shared a connection; a bond. Though, you don't know whether to call it the love of two siblings or just... well, you don't know how to describe it; you don't remember the last time he hugged you. He used to do so quite a bit when you were little, given how close you two were like siblings should be. As you two got older, though, things slowly changed.

He was... broken, to say the least. You don't remember why, like usual, you just recall you were still too young to understand what was happening around you - or even remember it when it became too much.

Funny how you work ever so differently from Sangwoo, huh. You're managing to forget things at an unpredictably changing rate, while Sangwoo seems to remember things a bit too well. Sometimes, you wish he'd confide in you, in addition to you not feeling this odd anxiety whenever you have any talks at all.

Do you two even depend on each other anymore, in that regard? What's changing with the two of you? Is Sangwoo the man he was supposed to be? You wish you knew.

Be careful what you wish for, little sissy.

"[Name]." It doesn't take a rocket scientist to recognize Sangwoo's voice. Once you hear it, though, you stand up, your socked feet making the softest paps on the floor as you walk to where it came from. Before you know it, you're in the kitchen again, facing him - and like usual, the room's air feels a bit heavier.

You cross your arms, shifting your weight from both legs to your right - a motion your brother mirrors with ease.

Like usual, Sangwoo looks fresh. Then again, he has to when he has classes - otherwise he just looks like he's planning a murder. He looks older on those days; he looks tired. If you're being honest with yourself, you don't like those days, where you have to spend time with him, be it to go grocery shopping or play games together. The latter isn't as fun as it is on your own, mainly because of the fact that Sangwoo doesn't speak or get into the spirit of it. (Unless you two play Mario Kart, wherein he just says 'On your left' or 'On your right' whenever he manages to pass you.)

"Did you eat?" He asks.

"Yes," You nod.

"Alright." Sangwoo grabs a bottle of water from the fridge to shove into his backpack. "I'm not planning on cooking tonight. I'm ordering pizza for us, okay?"

"Okay."

His dark eyes lift up to look at you before he meanders over to your side. It feels as though he's gotten even taller. "Also, don't forget, you have another doctor's appointment tomorrow. It's already on the calendar, but it's established that I should remind you anyway." He lifts a large hand, patting your shoulder twice. "You know the drill, right?"

"No going outside except to get the mail, make sure the house stays clean, don't open the door for anyone, get to bed on time." The last one's pretty out of place, but your bedtime is meant to be earlier. Doctor's orders; the rest is mostly just common sense.

"Right." Sangwoo's hand moves to rub your head. "I have some after-class stuff to do, so I'm gonna be home a little late."

You want to question what that stuff is. "Okay."

He glances at the clock on the oven, patting your shoulder one more time. "See you, kiddo." Just like that, big brother's out the door, leaving you with the faint sound of the TV and the occasional creaking the house makes as though it's speaking to you.

You don't work right. Sangwoo knows. Both of you know. And yet he has the ability to trust you enough not to get in trouble. He's had to play the big brother and the father role now that you two have no parents - something you're sure stresses him out. Though, it's not your fault. You know it's not.

Just thinking about it is making you dizzy even as you're meandering back to the TV, flopping onto the couch with an arm slung under your head.

The past times you went to the doctor, there was nothing physically wrong with you. Then again, you're not sure what's expected of you, given you're not even allowed outside with proper cause.

How long has it been since you had a meaningful conversation with Sangwoo? When was the last time you two went out to have fun? When did he hug you last? Where was he whenever you felt like your own head was ready to collapse from not just the overwhelming boredom, but the strain of trying to fill in the ever-growing blanks in your memory? You don't remember what your own father looked like - not even your mother's voice. In the end, it's up to your desperate subconscious to play make-believe as if a means to keep you from completely falling apart at the seams. And you know full well it's only going to work for so much longer.

It's hard. So hard. And nobody understands.

You don't even remember what your favorite kind of cake is.

Frustrated, you roll onto your stomach, pounding the couch's cushions as if it'd puke out some sort of answer to your issues. There's so many of them, though, that the couch would never be able to provide comfort for them. Just relief for a spine, a butt, or even your head when you can't gather the strength or motivation to sit properly. It's kind of funny, really.

Searching for the remote, you turn off the TV, sighing heavily as you get back up. Lumbering back into the kitchen, you look it over. Sangwoo's good about cleaning up after himself, so you don't have any dishes to worry about. A bit disheartened, you move around, looking for a stain to clean up or something. No dice, again.

You pout, and the cycle repeats all throughout the downstairs - up until you come across the trapdoor to the basement.

As usual, you don't remember why, but you never liked the basement. Even going near it frightens you. You picture it's because you always get a weird smell from it, or maybe you saw a rat or something else down there and you don't remember. Only Sangwoo has the gut to go down there - which he has indeed done. How many times, you don't know, you just know he's the kind of person that can handle anything.

Maybe... just looking won't hurt.

Steadily, you reach for the hoop, fingers trembling. After some mental coaxing - you really shouldn't be this twitchy - you manage to grip it, lifting it until it opens with a resounding 'creak'. The kind of creak haunted houses make in horror movies when people are too stupid to listen to the realtor. You want to see a horror movie where the people are actually smart for once... It'd be a nice break.

The odd smell is even worse now. It's a mixture of vinegar, old wood, and aging pennies; a combination that could easily scream 'haunted'. The next step is to just get down there to see what needs to be cleaned, but even as you try to urge yourself to crawl down there, your body won't move. The silence, the musty smell, the foreboding darkness inside even with the trapdoor open is very quickly becoming too much. You're already ready to throw up.

"... I pass," You say softly, closing the trapdoor again. There will be a day when you can go down there and not be scared - today is not that day.

Deciding to pretend like you didn't even see the inside of the basement, you speedwalk up the stairs, whistling nervously to break the suddenly crushing silence. Something cold begins to twist your stomach, your hair sticking to your neck as your skin grows cold and clammy. Your steps fall to a halt, and you find yourself stuck there like glue, as though held in place by some kind of invisible force. Slowly, you look back, wondering if there’s something back there to be worried about, something causing the feeling of eyes in your back.

Quickly, a blur of shapes and colors passes, and you find yourself letting out a piercing shriek. Before you know it, you're making a mad dash everywhere in the upstairs, eventually finding a closed door and bursting through it, diving into the nearest comfortable looking thing and making a cocoon out of your shirt, sinking your head through the collar and burying your face into your knees after pulling them into it.

A second goes by. Then two. Then three. Then suddenly a full minute passes. Brows curved upwards, you poke your head up and look around, sitting up to look like an actual human again. Glancing around, you take notice of the room's cleanliness, and eventually the decor. Heat returning to your core, you find yourself wondering why you'd even been scared. It's like something just started chasing you up the stairs or something and disappeared the moment you hid.

You shudder, getting onto your feet and straightening out the bed behind you. Meandering shakily out of the room, you close the door behind you and make it so you weren't there at all. Opening closed doors isn't something to do - you know that, and you weren't even taught. Well... you were? You don't know anymore.

Seeking the bathroom, you only glance around for a quick moment. The only thing different about this room is that the shower curtain is drenched from Sangwoo showering earlier. Sighing, you decide to just retreat into your bedroom, peeking through your own curtains to the world outside.

The two of you live just near a street, so there's cars always passing your house. A good activity you did out of boredom - nevermind how long you did it - was count how many black and red cars passed. It kept you occupied, and it was oddly relaxing in terms of any anxiety you had towards future appointments, be them the dentist or doctor.

Doctor! You remember now! Quickly tugging out your phone, you hastily pull up notifications, writing down your appointment - and are scared out of your wit when suddenly your screen changes to a call. Sangwoo's picture appears in the middle of the screen. Quickly, you swipe to the right, holding it up to your ear.

"Give me a heart attack, Sangwoo," You frown. On the other end, he chuckles.

"Sorry, squirt," He hums. Squirt...?

Oh, that's right, that means he's surrounded. Every pet name he gives you on the phone, you realize, signals different things. "Are you in class? Why are you calling me?" This is weird. Extremely weird.

"Don't act so surprised, little sissy. I'm just checking on you," He says merrily. A tone he usually takes on with other people.

You know Sangwoo. There's a particular memory that comes forward with this tone of voice, after all. One time, you two were out going grocery shopping, and like he would demand, you'd be in front of him, pushing the cart with him. (Feeling him breathe on your head was always such a weird feeling.) At some point or another, you recall some guy shouting his name, and like some sort of switch in his head, Sangwoo's expression switched from just stone cold to suddenly undeniably warm and gentle as he was pulled into a conversation with some guy from school.

You don't remember his name. All you remember is that Sangwoo was a completely different person - the kind you wished was your brother at this point - whenever he was talking to people from school. It was almost creepy.

"Thank you?" You mean for it to be a statement, but you're so confused that it switches into a question.

"Everything okay over there? Is the house scary?" He quips.

You want to ask about the basement. "Kind of?"

"Aww. Poor little sissy. Don't you worry about a thing - your big brother's got your back."

Pursing your lips, you nod. "Alright... I- Is that it?"

You hear some other voices in the back, then a sigh, before it's suddenly quiet. Flaring your nostrils, you move the phone away from your ear. "Alright then." Your thumb reaches for the red 'hang up' button, when Sangwoo's voice pipes back up.

"What has my precious little sister been up to, all alone in that big house?" His tone's a bit lower, a signal you know well even now. "Has she been trying to slay the monsters under the house?"

This... doesn't sound like him playing. "No." You sound more composed than you would have expected.

"Good. I've got all that covered. You just play and play, and your big brother's gonna get rid of all the scary things, okay?" He asks. "And did you put down the appointment yet?"

"Yes."

"Alright. Like I said, I'll be home a bit late. Stay out of trouble."

"I want to go outside."

"No." His tone lowers even more; a warning.

"Sangwoo, I-"

"Open a window or something. I don't want you going outside. You remember what we talked about. You could get kidnapped or something. And if you really want a reason not to go out, Let me make something very clear." You grip your phone tightly as his voice lowers even more. "I don't care who's your friend. I don't care who's going to take care of you. It's not like you have either. If you did, they're no longer there - these past couple years made sure of that."

Sangwoo, come on... "Just think of it like a sign, if you wanna start feeling better. Now that your pretty little head's cast out all the scary things, there's no way you can go anywhere. That's why I'm here - and it's also why you should be grateful you're still in that house, you little-" He trails off, and when he speaks back up, his tone's lighter. "Yoonjae's looking for me. We're gonna have a good ol' family dinner when I get back - and we're gonna talk some more about what we've gotta work out, okay?"

Without giving you a word in edgewise, Sangwoo hangs up.

Well, alright then.

It's not unusual for Sangwoo to get riled up when you talk about getting out. Given you're the only family he has now and vice versa, he's hell-bent on "keeping you safe", as he likes putting it. It feels more like he's isolating you, just like he seems to have isolated himself - from you. Whenever the two of you even talk, it's a constant reminder that he doesn't want to let you go. Understandable as it is - you wouldn't want your younger sibling going off on their own if they couldn't remember much even about themselves either. Despite that, it's still unacceptable, in your mind; he's suffocating you.

Finishing up with the notifications, you find your TV and kneel in front of it, tugging out a game - you don't feel like playing Space Invaders again, you did that yesterday - from one of the cubbies. Since Sangwoo doesn't play video games, he was very much chill about you having the systems in your room. Then again, he was fine with everything you did so long as you didn't inconvenience him too much.

Most of the games you have these days are retro or mystery games, moreso for the fact that they're said to be good for your brain. The neurologist did encourage this, since they required you to concentrate and solve puzzles; things that would very much improve your brain function along with your medication.

Before you really know it, you lose yourself in Tetris, completely losing track of time.

...

You don't know how much time went by, but you're ripped to attention when your phone rings again. Putting down your controller, you stand, going over to it and picking up.

"Uh, hello?" You answer.

"Open the door."

You hang up, pocketing your phone and meandering down to the stairs. In your near-frenzy to meet your brother, you miss a step and find yourself tumbling, your limbs being bent in weird directions and your body being bombarded with various impacts until you're laying spread-eagle on the floor.

"... Ow."

Getting back up, you rush to the front door. Opening it up slightly, you quickly recognize Sangwoo and let him in, noticing the two pizza boxes in his arms. Though, he doesn't seem interested in them, glancing at you and then to the kitchen, briefly nodding his head towards it as means of urging you. Not needing to be told twice, you scurry behind him, and once you two are in the kitchen, he puts the boxes on the table and turns to you.

"You fell down the stairs again?" He asks. "I could hear you."

You blink.

"I told you not to get in any trouble," He mentions, eyebrows raising until they look ready to fly off his face. "And here you are, always getting yourself into a mess."

"Well that's not very nice," You hum, to which he just shakes his head.

"Just get a plate and get your pizza, I didn't buy it so it could get cold on the damn table," He orders. Yep, orders.

At this point, you're not in the mood to point out his tone, so you do as he asks, grabbing two slices and sitting down. Even then, though, you're not sure what you should be doing or saying. You want to ask about how his day was, but he'd probably get on you for prying. You want to ask about the basement, but then he'd ridicule you for being scared of the dark. Sibling troubles? Maybe, but you can't help feeling like there's more to it than that.

So, you decide to be presumptuous. "How was your day?" You ask, the tip of your slice barely on your lip.

With a tilted head and an uninterested gaze, he takes about a minute to answer. "Exactly how you would picture my day would be. You might not work right, but you're not an idiot." I've never felt love like that in days. "But, since you asked me, I'll tell you. I got there, I talked to some guys, arm wrestled with Yoonjae-"

"Yoonjae? Like..."

"-Yes, from the store, don't interrupt. This time, I was sure I'd wind up breaking something." Why does he sound so nonchalant? Then he notices the look on your face. "I'm talking about his ego."

You just shrug in acknowledgement, a crease in your brow as you finish your slice, putting down the crust.

"And how about you? How's your day been? I mean, I can probably tell how, but I was nice enough to tell you how my day was," Sangwoo adds, resting his cheek in his palm. His other hand is resting on the table, drumming on it with his fingertips. There's no concrete rhythm, and it's already starting to drive you insane.

"... I cleaned," You say after a bit, though moreso through your teeth. "Most of the house, anyway."

"Where'd you miss?" This time, you avoid your brother's eyes.

"... The basement," You respond, eyes admiring the table. It's slightly scuffed up from use, but otherwise a fine table. But then it rattles following a jarring 'thump' - and you quickly look up to see he's halfway upright, hand slapped to the table to get your attention.

"Did you go down there?" He demands, to which you quickly shake your head. "That's right. You don't need to go down there, okay? There's no way in hell there's anything down there worth almost sh-."

"Watch your profanity."

"- dirtying your pants for." Lowering himself back down, he grabs another slice. "That being said, let's move on. Have you decided what college you're going to?"

You blink, responding, "Hongik University."

"Oh, really?" Huh? "Have you decided your major?"

"Performing Arts. If that doesn't work out, I can always change. It'll be difficult, but it'll be fine, I'm sure." At this point, you're somewhat apprehensive. "I don't have the brain for economics or architecture."

"Sure you don't." He's oddly indifferent, and it shows by how he leans back, setting his mouth in a straight line. "There's not really a whole lot of shame in pursuing a minor field. I don't really expect you to do anything spectacular anyway." When he catches your full - and slightly offended - attention, he leans forward again. "It's been established that you can hardly understand how the world works anymore. I mean, it's okay - there's nothing to understand; nothing to think about."

"So, you're... accepting that I'm applying?" It all depends on if your application is accepted. "I mean, I am gonna be going away there. It has dorms."

"Hey, you fit the qualifications, you're more than capable of taking care of yourself despite... well, your-"

You quickly slam your hand onto the table. "Sangwoo!"

"All I'm saying is that your condition might throw a wrench in your plans," He shrugs. "You're still forgetting things, you know. You'll inevitably forget simple stuff like your schedule, dorm number, even the faces of your professors. Leaving home and being in an unfamiliar place isn't good for you. You don't need that, now do you?"

You frown, to which he makes a flippant gesture of dismissal.

Your "condition" does have a name, the neurologist said - Retrograde Amnesia, or something like that. You're glad it has a name, considering you could undergo treatment according with the research you and Sangwoo would be doing on it.

"That'll be the end of that. Take your medicine and get to bed now," He tells you. "Remember, neurologist appointment. You need to be well-rested, little sissy."

"... Do I have a physical?" You can't help asking. When he shakes his head, you sigh in relief. "Do you need help putting that away?"

"No, now get ready for bed. You remember the orders," He scolds. "I'm not going to be responsible if you wind up passing out or going blank at the office. That's the last thing we want, is a repeat of last month."

"I thought we agreed to never talk about that again!"

"I lied."

You huff. "Whatever." You stand up, meandering towards the stairs. "Goodnight, big bro."

"Goodnight, squirt."

Just as you reach the middle of the stairs, you glance in the direction of the basement trapdoor. Even if you can't see it too well, just looking at it is twisting your stomach. It could've just been the smell or how dark it was down there, but you can't help feeling like there's something down there you need to know about. Something... big. Like a million dollar treasure, or an artifact stolen from the highest security protected museum on the planet.

Though, it's like Sangwoo told you: you don't have any business going down there. Maybe it's just the Oh family secret that only the eldest son could know about, or perhaps there's something relevant to your lost memories down there and that's why Sangwoo's encouraging you to stay away. Why he would, though, is far beyond you just like everything else.

And as you stand in the bathroom, dry swallowing your medication, you wonder at the possibilities.

Looking up into the mirror, you can’t help noticing your reflection. Looking back at you is a girl that seems as though she just crawled out of Wonderland. More than that, everything about her doesn’t feel normal. It’s like she popped out of a storybook, like she was born something that wasn’t meant to be real; like she isn’t supposed to be there in the mirror. Just seeing her makes your heart sink into your stomach.

And the worst part is: that girl is you. Someone who’s lost who she used to be, who she is.

Grabbing your toothbrush, you furiously water it, put toothpaste on, and start brushing. Using a free hand, you close and lock the bathroom door, sitting on the edge of the bathtub and sighing through your nose. Absentmindedly, you run your brush along your teeth at all angles, beginning to sway on your butt - until you fall back and into the tub with a yelp.

A couple seconds later, you hear, “What are you doing up there?”

Twisting a little, you push up and out of the tub - that thing qualifies as something to be in a Japanese locker room - to walk to the sink. Spitting out the toothpaste foam, you turn on the faucet, cupping your hands underneath and slurping up the water, swishing and spitting and repeating until you feel clean. Opening up, you lightly step through the hall and get into your room. Closing the door behind you, you lock it, going and changing into some pajamas.

Plugging in your fairy lights, you crawl into bed, setting your alarm and drifting off, curling up tightly into a ball.

Tomorrow’s Thursday, right? I didn’t look at the calendar...

You glance into your phone again.

You know something... if you pronounced Thursday like Thawrsday... that’d be pretty hilarious.

One of the many side effects of your meds, the Neurologist said, is how you’d be affected overall - so this wild train of thought while you’re drifting away is a sign it’s kicking in.

The moment you put down your hand, you’re out.

@koulej Here it is. I’ll also send it to you in a PM, so that you can see it.

#killingstalking #killing stalking #ks #sangwoo #writing #my writing #readerinsert #I mean I'm not too confident in this story #the only character i feel i can do with relative certainty is bum

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nightshade-imagines · 6 years

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Heya ! How are you ? :3 Sf brossibling time ! So, living with the bros isn't always easy, but it's not hell. Sibling know it isn't easy for the bros actually. One day, they secretly plan a surprise. They sent the bros to alphys and undyne so the bros are busy, and do what they need to. The bros come home to a nice smell of pizza, a ton of their favorite movies in front of theTV and a fluffy cover. "I know people think you two aren't good people, I just wanted to remind you you're the best bros!"

❇Swapfell Bros

You’ll have to be pretty close with the Swapfell bros for them to have you actually move in with them, even after they dub you their honorary siblings. Rus was actually the first one to suggest you moving in with them to Raspberry after finding out that you were looking for a new place to stay. Raz thought it was an excellent idea, going on about being powerful in numbers and all that and decided to fetch you immediately!

The next morning you’re woken up to Raz and Rus in you apartment as Raz digs through your closet and stuffed things into a suitcase. Blinking the sleep from your eyes you try to process what is going on, “S-sans, what the heck are you doing?”, You’d think you’d be used to this sort of thing by now but he still always managed to take you by surprise. “PACKING YOUR ESSENTIALS, YOU’RE WELCOME BY THE WAY! I WAS JUST GOING TO WAKE YOU UP AND HAVE YOU DO IT YOURSELF BUT THE MUTT SAID WE SHOULD LET YOU SLEEP.“ “Wait, Paps is here too?” You glance around and see Rus crouched down, looking in your fridge as he lifts his hand up and makes a little wave without turning around. You stand there looking back and forth between the two brothers. Raz is still rummaging though you closet, grumbling something about junk, meanwhile Rus finally pulls himself out of the fridge, now holding a sandwich and walks over to stand beside you. “Heya, kid”, he pats you on the head. “Alright, what the heck is going on!?! Why are you digging through my stuff…and why is Papyrus eating my sandwich?! “I DON’T KNOW, HE’S SUPPOSED TO BE OVER HERE HELPING PACK FOR YOU!” “Sorry, M'lord, got hungry”. “Pack? Pack for what?” “WELL YOU’RE GOING TO NEED EXTRA CLOTHES WON’T YOU! I WON’T HAVE YOU WEARING THE SAME FILTHY CLOTHES EVERY DAY WHILE YOU’RE LIVING WITH US! I ALREADY HAVE TO DEAL WITH PAPYRUS DOING THAT! “Whoa whoa whoa, what do you mean ‘while I’m living with you’”? “I MEANS EXACTLY WHAT I MEAN! NOW, MUTT, COME HELP ME PACK!” “Yes, M'lord”, Rus shoves the rest of the sandwich into his mouth and proceeds to help Raz sort through your things. “No, don’t help him pack! Don’t pack at all!“ Raz throws the clothes he was holding to the side, “YOU KNOW WHAT? THE HUMAN IS RIGHT, JUST LEAVE THIS JUNK HERE! IT’S PROBABLY TAINTED WITH THE FILTH OF THIS PLACE ANYWAYS! WE’LL JUST PICK HER UP SOME NEW THINGS LATER TONIGHT! “Not what I meant!” Raz begin heading for your door, “COME, MUTT! GRAB THE HUMAN AND WE’LL BE ON OUR WAY!”“Wait wait, no don-!”“Yes, M'Lord.” Rus smirks down at you and teleports the three of you back to their house in the middle of your protest.

So yeah, that’s how that happened. After you arrived at their place and Rus explains the situation to you civilly, you were pretty surprised. It was really nice of them and you didn’t really know what to say except “thank you” a bunch. After you got settled in, things went pretty smoothly, but of course things weren’t going to be completely smooth considering the boy’s (mostly Raspberry’s) more unusual personalities. If Raz doesn’t personally wake you up at 5am, his morning “work outs” probably will, not to mention he’s still has problems respecting other peoples privacy, sometimes looking through you things without permission. As for Rus, he isn’t actually too bad, besides constantly tickling the crap out of you, falling asleep on top of you or sending his Gaster Blasters to lick you to death because he gets a kick out of it (Basically all the big brother stuff he misses doing to Raspberry).

It had been almost a year since the day you moved in with the brothers and you kind of wondered why you hadn’t decided to set something up for them sooner. The idea had sparked in you mind a few others time but you never really put anything into action untill today. You decided not even to officially plan anything until the last minute due to Rus’ almost creepily impressive talent for figuring out what people are up to. The only reason you were actually able to convince Undyne to distract them for the day was because she and Rus were friends, she wasn’t exactly know for doing favors. Undyne had also informed you that Alphys would be there for the day which should keep Raz busy, those two could fight for hours. You went ahead and made a special pre-order for the Pizza and even stopped at Muffet’s to pick up some of some of Rus’ and Raz’s favorite desserts. You made that part of you trip as quick as possible because Muffet actually scared you a little bit despite Rus saying that she seemed to take a liking to you. It’s pretty hard to tell if that’s a good or bad thing with her. You got the biggest blankets you could find in the house and put them on the couch in a nest like formation and set up the TV with the boys favorite movies setting on the coffee table; Marvel marathon for Sans and Indiana Jones for Papyrus! Everything was almost perfect! You texted Undyne to send the guys home and she texted back saying they should be home in about a half an hour and you almost feel bad that she’s going to have to be the one to pry Raz and Alphys apart. The pizza arrived right on time and you were waiting anxiously on the couch as you watched the clock, any minute now! Suddenly you hear the front door swing open fallowed by those all too familiar voices. “DID YOU HEAR WHAT THE IMBECILIC REPTILE SAID TO ME!”, “Yes, but you put her in her place, M'Lord.” “INDEED, THAT’S WHAT SHE GETS FOR BESMIRCHING THE NAME OF THE MALEFICENT SANS!” Rus tilts his head up a bit and sniffs the air, “Do you smell that?” Ras is about to respond but you jump up with your arms in the air the moment they enter the living room. “Surprise!” There’s just dead silence and the two of them are stuck staring at you and the little display you have set up. You make another little jump and say it again this time making a little jazz hands motion. “Surprise!” Raz is the first to speak up. “HUMAN WHAT IS THE MEANING OF THIS”, his tone isn’t brash but rather curious while Rus was still stuck staring at your display. You blush a bit and stumble over your words. “Well, I uh, really wanted to thank the two of you for being my friends and letting me stay here and everything. I know you guys have kind of joked about it before, about me being like your little sibling but honestly, I really mean it when I say I…see you as family.” You take a deep breath and Raz had once again been uttered speechless, “I know people think you two aren’t good people, I just wanted to remind you that you’re the best bros anyone could ask for.” Raz looks directly at you and speaks surprisingly quietly for a moment. “Human, you really did all of this for us?” “I…yeah.” Silence once again and your begin to question all of this. Was it to much? You’re pulled out of your thoughts by Raz awkwardly hugging you and…shaking? (Is he crying!?!) “Y-YES, HUMAN, OF COURSE YOU WOULD WANT TO CONVEY YOUR AFFECTION AND GRATITUDE! ISN’T-ISN’T THAT RIGHT, MUTT!” Rus’ gaze slowly moves back to you and Raz, “Uuuuh”, his surprised gaze softens when he makes eye contact with you, “Yeah, thanks, kid”. His smile perks up, “Alright, let’s get this party started!” Raspberry let’s go of you and perks up as well, quickly wiping the back of his hand over his eyes. “YES! SHOW WHAT YOU HAVE PREPARED, HUMAN!” You throw open the pizza, pop in a movie and settle down into the couch between the bros. Both of them have such genuine smiles on the whole time, though Raz continues to try to hide his.

Raz was the first to fall asleep sometime around 5am and you quickly followed leaving Rus the last one awake. You were leaning against his side while Raz was leaning against yours and he used his magic to pull a blanket over you, "Welcome to the pack, Sis.”

#undertale imagines #undertale #swapfell #I sort of wrote this prompt style

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pikapegasus · 7 years

Note

ok so I know I know I know you're starmora trash and cranking it out like clockwork atm but could I pretty please ask for Maggie Rogers and the squad with "the floor is lava"? you're amazing, keep up the great five!!

damn anon just straight-up calling me out for being trash ;_____; LMAOOOOO jk, i love ya a lot, and, yeah, i’m soooo trash for them haha (also hoping this doesn’t end up in the st*rmora tag bc i don’t wanna clog it up with unrelated shit sldvnls)

i have some new followers since my old romanogers days, so: greetings, everyone, this oneshot is based on this long ongoing romanogers fic i have on ffn of just random oneshots about nat and steve being parents with their daughter, maggie rogers (named after peggy!), so, if you’re at all interested in that, here’s the original fic, “but uncle tony!”

Natasha’s learned not to question a lot of things in hertime with the Avengers. She’d never considered herself to be quite the averageperson herself in the past—being a Soviet spy for the better part of thetwentieth century is pretty unique,she thinks, at least until Bucky decided to show up—but, admittedly, the otherAvengers have her beat sometimes.

As well as her own daughter.

One botched mission in Italy later, she’s returning to theAvengers’ Tower at the surprisingly normal time of noon, hiding a yawn behindher hand as she enters the penthouse, where Maggie and Steve usually hang outwith the others.

Then she catches sight of Maggie jumping from couch, tocouch, to chair, laughing the entire time, her cheeks flushed in excitement.Tony follows her more carefully, stepping from furniture piece to furniturepiece rather than hopping like Maggie, but she quickly catches up to him and isforced to continue at his slow pace.

“You’re so slow,”she scolds, at least, as close to scolding an eight-year-old can get, but Tonyjust looks at her, exasperated.

“We can’t all beflexible,” he insists, landing ungracefully on the chair.

Natasha finally decides to approach, and she sees Stevesitting with his legs pulled up and folded against his chest in a chair at thesmall dining table in the corner, scrolling through emails on his phone. Sheyawns again.

“Welcome back,” he greets her with a brief glance and wave.

“Thanks.” She manages something that she hopes resembles asmile, placing her bag down on the table beside Steve. She greets him with aquick kiss before turning her attention back to Maggie and Tony. “Is there amouse running around here or something?”

“Mama!” Maggie yells to her, pausing her jumping to look ather parents. “The floor is lava!”

Oh. Well, that explains everything, of course.

But also: her mission sucked and she’s tired enough to sleepfor a week. “Does it have to be lavaright now?”

“Yes,” Tony answers all-too-happily, shooting her a grin.

With a roll of her eyes, Natasha complies, settling on thechair across the table from Steve’s. She props her feet up on the table. “Did Imiss anything?”

“Not really,” Steve answers with a shrug, setting his phonedown on the table. “Just a very extended game of the floor being lava.”

“Who started it?”

She receives her answer in the form of Clint poking his headout of the nearest air vent, offering her a wink. “Heyo.”

And one look at Steve affirms her suspicion, as he justnods. She sighs. “Why must you torture me this way, Barton?”

“Because the floor is lava!” he insists, lowering himselffrom the vents. He lands on a very specifically placed chair. “Whoever steps onit is going to be attacked by the lava monster.”

“Who is the—“

Her words are cut off by Thor growling, as he suddenly pops up from the spaceon the floor between the couches that Natasha can’t see from where she’s sitting. Maggiesqueals at his appearance and Tony nearly loses his balance.

“Not cool!” Tony huffs, clinging onto the top of the couchfor dear life. Thor just laughs.

“Fear me, tiny humans! I will devour you whole!” Thor says,accompanied by another growl. “I am your worst nightmare!”

“Uncle Tony,” Maggie whines, pushing Tony’s back with herhands. “You’re slow again!”

“Chill, kid, geez.”

Wanda enters the room then, casually levitating herself across the floor with her powers. She pauses by the table beside Natasha and Steve tosip at the mug of coffee that had been sitting there.

“Welcome back, Natasha,” she says cheerfully. “How was yourmission?”

“Not good,” Natasha says with a grumble.

“Worse than the floor being lava?”

“Definitely worsethan the floor being lava.”

“Hm.” Wanda turns toward Maggie, Tony, and Thor. “Maggie!Have you hugged your mother yet?”

“No, because the floor’s lava, so I can’t reach her!”

“I can fix that.” With the flick of her wrist, Wandacarefully levitates Maggie with her powers, pulling her toward herself andNatasha. She places Maggie down on top of the table. “There.”

“Thanks, Wanda!” Maggie says, turning to Natasha with herarms open. They hug, Natasha nearly knocking Maggie off the table, but it’s ahug, nonetheless. “Hi, Mama! I’m sorry your mission was bad.”

“It’s okay. The next one will probably be better.” She runsa quick hand through Maggie’s hair. “Are you having fun?”

Maggie nods happily. “Uncle Thor is really good at being alava monster!”

Wanda sits down on the edge of the table beside her. “He’s alittle too good.”

“It’s good training,” Steve says with a shrug, alreadyresuming reading emails on his phone.

“Hey! Wanda!” Clint calls from across the room, perched uponhis isolated chair. “Can I have some of your coffee?”

“Go get your own!” she calls back. Maggie giggles frombehind her.

“No way, I’m not going to be the one to get tackled by Thor!”

“Too late!” Tony cries out, slipping from his chair ratherungracefully onto the ground. Thor pounces immediately, grabbing him by hisshoulders.

“I have conquered Stark!” he declares, looking at everyoneelse. “Who shall be next?”

“Hey, Wanda,” Natasha says, leaning back in her seat, “ifClint wants his coffee so badly, maybe you should help him out.”

She recognizes the twinkle of mischief in Wanda’s eyes asher own (she’d only tried to be the bestmentor for Wanda, honestly), and witha quick flick of her fingers, Wanda’s magic removes Clint from his seat. He landson his ass with an oof!

“Oops,” Wanda says, flipping her hair over her shoulder.

“That’s cheating,” Maggie says, looking between Wanda andNatasha. “I think?”

“All’s fair in love and war,” Natasha says, meeting Wanda’sknuckles for a quick fist bump.

“Dammit, you guys!” Clint groans as Thor races over,dragging Tony behind him.

Natasha can’t help but laugh at the sight, her eyes driftingto the different members of their “family” of sorts. Steve’s abandoned hisemails once again, watching the scene unfold with a small smirk. Wanda’sgiggling behind her hand as Maggie openly laughs at the sight.

No matter how shitty her missions are, at least coming homeis always fun.

#romanogers #natasha romanoff #black widow #captain america #steve rogers #avengers #mcu #fanfiction #tumblr exclusive #maggie rogers #wao i haven't written for this particular au in like 1000000 years #at least it feels that way with all the other stuff i've been writing recently #Anonymous

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