Tumgik
#I also was there with my parents when I was a toddler but we only stayed for 2 days because the hotel did not have any Nutella
robinsnest2111 · 2 months
Text
I've heard from various sources that waking up after only 3 hours of sleep in the middle of the night (even when you're fucking tired) and having a hard time falling back asleep has something to do with the stress hormones being way too damn high
but how do I reduce the amount of stress hormones in my body when even my mundane everyday life has had me in a constant state of stress for the past 27 years of my life? 🤔
5 notes · View notes
esyra · 6 months
Text
After the hospital bombing, I finally heard back from my grandmother and confirmed that several of my relatives were murdered by Israeli bombing. Seven of them, to be precise. Three are still going, including her. We've been talking constantly ever since.
Asked if it was possible to head south, and was told they did but were also bombed there. So they decided to go back home, in Zeitoun. Their home was bombed and they were pulled out of the rumble, then driven by ambulances to the al-Ahli Arab Hospital. There were people in every corner. Gazans sheltering, sleeping on the floor. Gazans dying on the floor, waiting for beds.
Four were declared dead on arrival, three were in need of surgery and other three were just bandaged. Then, a bomb was dropped in the parking lot that made parts of the ceiling collapse, like Dr. Ghassan Abu Sittah reported in that horrific conference/interview. Those in need of surgery died.
By the way, just in case you didn't know: the Church of Saint Porphyrius, the third oldest in history, bombed by Israel a few days back, was located near the hospital.
When looking for new shelter, they saw schools with signs hanging outside, "We can't take any more families." They met families, sympathetic but already sheltering too many people. They're now staying in an apartment building they found empty. Sleeping in the corner of the living room. If the family comes back, they'll apologize and leave.
Told me she was saving her phone battery for when the bombing stopped, and she had to ask for help to rebuilt the neighborhood. But she doesn't think it's gonna stop anymore. The ones still with her are mute most of the time, like they're saving energy, but she feels lonely and wanted to talk. There's no internet and to connect to WhatsApp, people are buying "a card from the supermarket, there's a password and username." Not sure what she meant. Still, the internet is inconsistent and won't load neither videos or images nor pages, so she doesn't know what's happening on the outside world.
Told her there were a lot of people protesting to stop the genocide, she replied, "The bombings are getting worse by the day." The bombing yesterday was the worst she ever witnessed. The entire neighborhood is infested with the smell of death, of decomposing bodies. Bodies are piling up in the streets and she's not sure if it's because they ran out of places to store them, but most of them are in bags. The smoke of the bombings hide the blue sky—she hasn't seen the clouds for a while.
Asked if I could share their pictures, names and dreams with people and was told, of which I partly agree, "they're not entertainment." If anyone genuinely cared, they would be alive—I'd argue there are people who do care, but I'm not gonna lecture her pain. And they don't deserve to be used to fulfill someone's sick fantasy. Told me to remember what some Israelis do with pictures of dead Palestinians. And I do.
For those of you who are not familiar, many times before settlers got together to celebrate the murder of Palestinians. For one, in 2015, Israeli settlers set a house in Duma, West Bank on fire. An 18-month old baby, Ali Dawbsheh, was burnt alive. Both parents later died of wounds and only a 5-year-old, Ahmad, survived, although severely injured.
Two celebrations of their murder are widely known, one at a wedding and others outside the court in which two were indicted for the terrorist attack. In the wedding, guests stabbed a photo of the toddler, Ali, while others waved guns, knives and Molotov cocktails. Israel's Minister of National Security, Itamar Ben-Gvir, was present.
That's what happens in an apartheid. Palestinians are so abused by authorities that their "innocent civilians" come to accept the brutality as necessary or are desensitized by our suffering. After all, it's been 75 years—get used to it!
So I won't risk the image of my loved ones, in fear they are used in these kinds of depravity. I will say, though, the world lost a young footballer. Lost a female writer and an aspiring ballerina. Lost a kind father, who was also a great cook, and a loving mother that enjoyed sewing and other types of handicraft art. Lost a math teacher and a child that wanted to become one.
Tumblr media
People think Israel is testing new weapons on them. There's civilians arriving at the hospital with severe burns, which they thought was from white phosphorus, but apparently the pattern is different from the one caused by white phosphorus. It's widely believed Israel tests weapons in Palestinians.
Jeff Halper, author of War Against the People, a book on Israel's arms and surveillance technology industries, said: "Israel has kept the occupation because it's a laboratory for weapons."
They've ran out of drinkable water and the "aid" Biden sent was only for the South of Gaza and no fuel, for hospitals, was allowed in. Many shelves in the supermarket are empty. She said many are convinced that if they don't die from the bombing, they'll die from starvation or dehydration, or whatever disease will develop from the dirty water they're drinking.
Told me all people do now is pray, cry and die. Told me she hopes West Bank is spared. Told her Israel bombed a mosque in West Bank and dozens of Palestinians in West Bank are being murdered by settlers, so she bided me goodbye.
25K notes · View notes
gallusrostromegalus · 6 months
Text
The Van Has Officially Declared It Spooky Season
---
I've got my parent's van for the week and it seems determined to establish my status as The Local Cryptid by terrorizing an innocent 7-11 clerk.
...I might need to back up a bit.
My mother is an eminently sensible woman who knows herself well, and when The Plauge hit, she knew she'd need some sort of mentally and physically engaging craft project to keep herself from going insane and massacring the local zoning and water management boards (even if they have it coming). So she and Dad acquired a utility van and converted it into a camper van because while they love camping, they're past the age where their joints and immune systems will tolerate sleeping on the cold ground in a nylon tent.
They did a terrific job of it and my mom taught herself woodworking and carpentry and now the van has it's own cabinets, fold-away dining table, and removable queen-sized bed with memory foam mattress. My Dad was already a computer engineer, but he learned the dark magics of automotive software and electronics to install after-market backup cameras, a media player that would take a terabyte hard drive and a solar-powered battery and outlet so they could wake up and just turn on the kettle and griddle for breakfast without having to exit the van into a cold morning on an empty stomach.
Truly, the height of Camping Luxury.
My parents are both in their mid-seventies and my primary life goal is to be at least half as cool and hale as they are when I get old.
Anyway, they take it out at least a dozen times a year and it works fabulously, but, being as I am on good terms with my parents and also finishing the process of moving house, I've been borrowing it to move large and cumbersome objects that will not fit in the back of my equally lovely but minuscule Honda hatchback.
It's a Great Van. Very easy and comfortable to drive. Stunningly good MPG for it's size. The best cruise control I've ever had in a car.
It's just also. Quirky. Mischievous, even.
---
If this van has a fault its that it bears the unfortunate affliction that all lightly used white utility vans have in that the combination of an utter lack of branding features and the large dent/scrape I accidentally put on it while trying to escape a Denny's last Thanksgiving means that this vehicle is one addition of a Badly Spray-Painted "FREE CANDY" on the side away from being the sort of vehicle you see in an edgy horror movie.
It's got the same issue that Doberman Dogs have where they look like the sort of creature that likes to snack on toddler's faces whilst actually having personalities made of marshmallow fluff. This vehicle is unnecessarily menacing and I think nothing short of an airbrushed Epic Van Wizard will correct this. People see this van pull up and lean over and squint suspiciously at me when the driver's side door opens, and then look moderately confused when, instead of Charles Manson, a small, potato-shaped creature with neon purple hair and a statistically unlikely assortment of dogs emerges.
My own two dogs, Herschel the Hanukkah Goblin/Corgi and Charleston Chew The Taco Dumpster Dog, Do Not Like The Van. Even with the bed in it, they have a tendency to slide and roll around in the back, and both WILL chew through dog saftey belts or other attempts to secure them in there.
On the other hand, my house mate's dog, an exceptionally tall standard poodle whom we lovingly call "The Creature", loves the Van because SHE wears her doggy seat-belt with only mild complaining and gets to sit up in the passenger seat like A People.
Also like A People, The Creature likes to stand and walk around on her hind legs. It doesn't hurt her and it's entirely voluntary, but every so often I will feel a hand on my arm and instead of my husband or friend, it's a canine that's taller than I am on her hind legs who wants to stare at my face with soulful, concerned eyes. The Creature's favorite thing is that she is exactly the right height for me to hold her arm in Genteel Fashion and walk around the pet food or hardware store with her like I'm a count escorting a debutante around a royal ball.
---
As it stands, I am set to inherit this vehicle whenever my Honda gives up the ghost, and I fully intend to paint an Epic Van Wizard on it when that time comes.
The other peculiarity of The Van is that while Dad did manage to successfully install all his after-market electronics, not all the electronics get along. Sometimes, they fight for Dominance. The Terabyte Music Player and the Backup Camera have a particularly contentious relationship, and turning on the music has about a 25% chance of turning on the backup camera as well, and turning on the Backup Camera is equally likely to turn on the music.
Firthermore, The Van has a favorite song.
I am not kidding that Dad filled an entire terabyte hard drive with music and the software to sort it via the radio controls, but of all the Early Boomer Dad Rock (Kingston Trio over The Eagles) and Irish Folk and Symphonies and the entire discography of Weird Al Yankovic, The Van's favorite song- The one it picks to play as victory music every time it beats the Backup Camera at their weird electronic game of rock-paper-scissors -is The Liberty Bell March by John Phillip Sousa.
You all know this song already.
...but in case you've forgotten the tune:
youtube
Yeah.
The Van's favorite song is the goddamn Monty Python's Flying Circus Theme Music.
It does not play this song at a normal volume.
Every time I turn on the Backup Camera and it manages to turn the music player on as well, The Van insists on absolutely blasting this nonsense on at the maximum volume it's physically capable of producing, which I know is loud enough to be heard from the Denver International Airport's Pickup zone when they Van decided to start playing it from the economy lot about half a mile away.
Perhaps it's The Van's way of honoring the aesthetic sensibilities and sonic enthusiasm of Mr. Sousa.
...I can't help but wonder if the purpose of an Epic Van Wizard is to control this sort of faerie-like malarkey, and channel these chaotic energies into things like Spell of Don't Break Down In Nevada or Enchantment Of Always Have Good Parking.
---
So last Friday the 13th, I get a call from my friend and housemate, at said airport.
It's roughly 11PM at night, and I have already retired for the evening. I am in the exact minimum of clothing required to be a decent housemate and not scandalize the neighbors should I happen to walk by a window. My feet are up. There is a cat in my lap and fictional British people murdering each other in highly inventive fashion on the tv. -But my friend has returned from her friend's wedding,and either American or United Airlines has managed to lose her luggage, including, among other valuable possessions, the keys to her car. ...So she cannot just drive home as originally planned.
There are, as luck would have it, her spare set of keys not eight feet from me.
Being a good and decent person, I agree to bring the spare keys to her so she may get home before daybreak and not spend a semester's worth of tuition on an uber across the greater Denver traffic jam.
Being also that she Loves Activities, and it's her mom we're going to pick up, I elect to take along The Creature.
I am primarily focused on remembering how to get to the airport and not leaving my friend's spare keys on the counter, so I throw on a pair of flip-flops, step outside, remember that it's AUTUMN and my minimal evening attire is not sufficient thermal protection, step back in, grab the first coat in the closet I lay hands on, pull it on, check that I have her keys again and leave.
The trip to the airport is largely unremarkable, save that it becomes necessary for me to put on sunglasses to drive, despite it being nearly the witching hour and almost entirely darker than the inside of a cow.
It's necessary because this blissful darkness of night is violently punctured by a startling number of cars that seem to have installed miniaturized but no less powerful lighthouse bulbs in where their headlights ought to go so the oncoming traffic and sports cars that insist on tailgating me in the slow lane alike illuminate the road and my mirrors with the kind of radiance I'd normally associate with the arrival of a Seraphim.
I arrive at the distant highly discounted airport car lot where my housemate is waiting, deeply apologetic. It's nothing. I say. Once I see that your car starts up, I'm gonna go to that 7-11 across the way that I parked in front of, get a slurpee or something and I'll see you at home.
While she is retrieving her vehicle (an equally eccentric but much more stately Subaru that is old enough to be elected to congress) I rifle through the loose change in the glove box and discover that I have exactly $6.66 in small bills and coins. The Subaru, continuing it's long voyage into vehicular immortality, immediately starts up.
Upon her return, we all remember that my friend had all her camping gear in the backseat of the car and there is no room for The Creature to ride home with her parent, so I again assure her it's nothing, and will just take The Creature into the 7-11 with me. She is trained as a service animal and needs the practice after the plague.
I wave my friend off and turn to enter the 7-11.
I promptly trip over the jutting back bumper of The Van and fall, cartoonishly, face-first onto the sidewalk.
Fortunately, I have a lot of practice falling on my face, and have learned not to throw my hands out but instead cover my face, so my unexpected self-inflicted attempted curb-stomping lightly scrapes my hairline and nothing else -my sunglasses even stay in place- and I get up and resume my quest for a slurpee.
It's well known that the airport is a lawless place, and the 7-11 across from the discounted airport parking at the stroke of midnight is no exception.
I know it's the stroke of Midnight because there's one of those Audubon society bird-call clocks that makes bird noises, and my arrival is heralded by the twittering call of a Summer Tanager. I am almost charmed enough by the unusual choice of chronological device to excuse the exorbitant Airport-adjacent mark-up of Slurpee prices. I stand at the machine for some time, trying to decide on a size for the price and guess what the fuck "Blue Lighting Blast" is supposed to taste like.
The Creature is being Very Polite but is somewhat agitated, I assume because she *just* saw her mother for the first time in three days and then she LEFT with no explanation, so The Creature is on her hind legs, staring woefully into my eyes, asking to be escorted around the 7-11. Even though that's not what she's not supposed to be doing, there's nobody else in here, so I let her hang off my arm and discuss various Slurpee Flavor options with her.
We eventually decide on an experiment in which I try a Small Blue Lightning Blast, and discover it tastes a bit like licking a nintendo cartridge but in a pleasantly satisfying way.
I go up to pay and realize something is amiss.
The Cashier is a young man staring at me with wide eyes, one had over the register and the other wrapped up in his rosary.
I look down at myself.
In my haste to reunite my friend with her spare keys and service animal, I had left the house in the following accoutrements:
Flip Flops. Not matching. It's below freezing outside. That last part is not particularly odd footwear for the weather in for Colorado, but it's an important detail for the rest of the ensemble.
Assorted scrapes, bruises, cuts and welts on my arms and legs that come with doing outdoor work and living in a house with three dogs and a fully-clawed cat that all want to be in my lap all the time. It's cold out, so vasoconstriction has pulled the blood away from my skin, a trait that served my ancestors well during the last Ice Age, but leaves me with pale skin to contrast the various wounds and I look like a corpse that fell out of the back of a pickup truck.
The black Bootyshorts with "CRYPTID" painted in bright red gothic font across my ass, that @theshitpostcalligrapher gave me for my wedding present.
A peculiar but extremely comfortable garment that straddles the line between "Lacy Camisole" and "Industrial-Strength Sports Bra" like the Ever Given straddling the Suez Canal. It is also Bright Red. with black accents.
The Jacket I had grabbed out of the closet, which is in fact, a black Velour Dinner Jacket.
The Tokyo-Ghoul inspired reusable anti-covid mask a friend made me with the set of Coyote Teeth.
My sunglasses, which are shaped like a Halloween Bat. The lenses are the wings and the body is the nose bridge. It is ALSO bright red.
A Very Large and remarkably Humanoid Poodle that I have been audibly affectionately calling "Dear Creature" who is hanging off my arm like she's my Prom Date.
The Very Large and remarkably Humanoid Poodle is ALSO dressed up in a black Dog Sweater that has white bones printed on it to look like its an X-ray jacket showing off her skeleton.
I look like I am taking my Very Fancy Werewolf Girlfriend to a particularly casual Dinner Party for Vampires, but the thing that's really selling it and probably alarming the kid the most is the fun accessory I acquired in the parking lot not five minutes earlier:
The "Small Scrape At my Hairline" is actually a painless but PROFUSELY bleeding head wound that I had somehow entirely failed to notice covering my face, neck, decolletage and magnificent cleavage with blood like a Tarantino Film Extra.
This does explain why The Creature has been delicately trying to use her bodyweight to push me down onto the floor for the last ten minutes. So I don't injure myself while we wait for the paramedics she hoped this kid called to arrive, you see.
The Creature has such a High and Naive Opinion of humanity.
I decide this social situation is already fucked, and the only way out is through, and with haste, before I start dripping on the floor.
"Hi there!" I say cheerfully, to indicate this is a visually alarming but not terribly serious situation. "Just a Small Slurpee!"
The Cashier has entered the relevant code into the register before I finish the sentence. His gaze flicks off me just long enough to look at the total, and he grips his Rosary harder.
$6.66
"Oh cool! I have exact change!" I say, taking the money out of my as-yet-unsanguined pocket without looking and slap it down on the counter. "You have a good night and be safe out there!" I wave, leaving.
I get in The Van, mortified, buckle The Creature up, and as I make to leave, I have to put it in reverse, which automatically turns on the backup Camera.
It also turns on the music player.
I make eye contact with the cashier as the dulcet tones of John Phillip Sousa boom from the van hard enough to make the windshield and the windows of the 7-11 rattle for the nine-and-a-half seconds I have to wait to be able to turn the volume back down. Not knowing what else to to, I give him a thumbs up, and leave.
Anyway, now I know what my Future Van Wizard has got to be dressed like, and what their familiar is.
---
If you enjoyed this story, please consider donating to my Ko-Fi or Pre-ordering my Family Lore Funny Stories book on Patreon
11K notes · View notes
notmyneighbor · 14 days
Text
Let Me In ~ Doppelgänger Francis Mosses/The Milkman x Female Reader
Chapter 7
Word Count ~ 3.9k
Rating ~ Explicit
CW ~ minor mention of blood and gore, sexual content
Also available on AO3
taglist @luthien-elvenia-asher @fishfetus @gaudesstuff @nekee-lilac02 @msdevil333 @rrnrjn @maskedpacific
Fanart used with permission @kaworinx on Instagram and TikTok
Tumblr media Tumblr media Tumblr media
You are walking the yard surrounding your home in early August.
Francis Mosses’ doppelgänger is beside you, his fingers laced with yours as the pair of you leisurely stroll. You love mornings like this. Lazy weekends when you shut the rest of the world out. There is just this, this safe haven you’ve created, away from the city where the invaders seek to gain entry and conquer, where the humans continue to try to see past the lies standing right before them, the deceivers and pretenders like the one whose hand you’re clutching now so tenderly. Except he isn’t like the others; nothing like any of them. He is yours, and you are his. There is nothing else like this phenomenon, what you have with him.
The blackberry bushes lining the picket fence are heavy with fruit, the plump, deep black specimens dull skinned, ripe and ready to be plucked.
“So many of them,” the copycat murmurs, halting beside you as your pace slows and pauses, contemplating the sight of those heavily laden shrubs.
You nod. “My grandparents used to make jam from them. I can remember spreading it on pancakes on Sunday mornings.”
“Do you still recall how to make the jam?”
“Yes. It’s not difficult. Just a bit time consuming. A lot of prep work.”
“We have the whole day. Want to try?”
“Really? You want to?”
“It sounds pleasant.” He tugs you gently towards him. “Everything with you is.” His lips meet yours, warm as the summer sun heating you through the button front dress you’re wearing.
“We need something to gather them in.”
“Will this do?” He reaches for the fabric of your dress about halfway down the skirt portion, lifting the loose material until it forms a kind of scooped makeshift basket.
“That’s what my grandmother did with her apron. Yes, this will do.” You reach for the handfuls he’s gathered, keeping the improvised bowl in place. “Only pick the ones that are black. No purple or red, they’re not ripe. Nothing shiny. Only the dull ones. They should come off fairly easily. If you have to pull too much, they’re not ready.”
The imposter milkman follows your directions and the dip in the fabric you’re clutching is soon full. It is a little awkward walking up the porch steps, balancing the unfamiliar weight at your front. There are stains on his fingers, on your dress as you dump the gathered berries into the colander he grabs from the cupboard for you, followed by a mixing bowl, anything he can find to relieve you of your burden. Overzealous in the picking, perhaps, but you don’t mind. The excessive berries would just have gone to waste otherwise, more than even your wildlife neighbors could indulge in.
“You should get used to having extra weight around your middle,” he murmurs against your ear. Still persisting in the notion of having a baby with you. The previous month had ended with your menses. You’ve no idea if it’s even possible to create a new life with the doppelgänger. You’re still conflicted about it. Afraid for its life, for yours and Francis’. But you can imagine the face. As a toddler. Convinced somehow it would be a boy. Identical in every way to his father. A father as devoted to him as he is to you. The child clinging to your side, standing in those same fields near the house in summer, looking at the world around him with those dark eyes that are unshadowed, not yet tired like his parent’s. Soft brown hair. Human, because you won’t let yourself imagine anything else; refuse to concede that it would be part doppel as well. “I can’t wait,” he says, his arms enfolding you from behind, your hands settling on his, the quartet all resting over your abdomen.
You smile, leaning your weight against his chest for a few moments before reaching for the faucet. It was time to rinse the harvest, removing the stray leaf or stem here and there. You fill a pan with water to boil to sterilize the lids of the mason jars. There are a set of them under the sink. The glass portion needs to be similarly treated. It will be hot in the kitchen with the stovetop working so hard. You lean and lift the window behind the sink a little higher, hoping for any sign of a breeze.
“Go pick out a record to play.” A new tradition. You let your lover choose the music, discovering what he likes best. Perhaps some of Francis’ favorites. Some for the invader alone. You cherish both selections equally.
The man and the doppel themselves; that is something your conscience has struggled with for many weeks now. You think you will always love Francis. But you love the new creature inhabiting his form, too. More and more with each passing day.
The music begins and you smile to yourself. Al Bowlly. Something from two decades ago, but a timeless classic. One of the records your mother had left behind when she’d moved to the city, inherited from your grandparents. You were long overdue for a visit to your mother and father. You’d received a letter not that long ago. Still safe. It was a worry that gnawed at you. One of the reasons you’d joined the DDD in the first place. Wanting to protect your family, the people you love.
The very thought of you and I forget to do
The little ordinary things that everyone ought to do
You spread a tea towel on the counter. The jars will air dry there after you’ve finished preparing them.
I'm living in a kind of daydream and I'm happy as a king
And foolish though it may seem, why to me that's everything
“How am I meant to not want to dance with you when this is playing?” Your partner’s lips graze the nape of your neck softly, his hands on your waist.
The mere idea of you, the longing here for you
You'll never know how slow the moments go till I'm near to you
You smile again. A gesture that comes so easily when the imposter is around you. “After. You wanted to make jam, remember?”
“I want to make a lot of things,” he murmurs beside your cheek, his nose nudging aside a stray piece of hair that’s come free from where you’d pinned it up, mouth now on the patch of skin he’s cleared.
“Francis!” You giggle, playfully squirming in his arms. You aren’t really trying to get away. “I need your help. Use those muscles of yours and pulverize the berries. The potato masher is in the second drawer there.”
I see your face in every flower, your eyes in stars above
It's just the thought of you, the very thought of you, my love
He rolls up his sleeves, beginning to crush the fruit while you gather the measuring cups and sugar.
“I know it’s equal parts berries and sugar. Three minutes to boil? And then another three after the sugar’s been added. Oh, I need the whisk, too. And one of the larger spoons to stir. Yes, that one, thank you.” Francis’ copy hands you the culinary tools you’re searching for, retrieved from the same drawer the masher had been in.
Speaking of which, he’s done a great job with the blackberries, making short work of them. For a brief second your mind teases an imagining of something far less pleasant being ground down like that, pulped human flesh, the gore that is left behind when a doppel feasts on a human. Your grip on the spoon tightens until it’s white knuckled and you force yourself to relax. You’re with him, the one that you love, that adores you. Your home. With the beautiful crooned words of longing issuing from the turntable in the background. Those horrors do not exist here. “Those look perfect. I think that’s maybe around six cups’ worth. But we’ll measure.”
Your estimate of the mixture volume proves fairly accurate. You begin stirring the berries in the stainless steel cook pot, watching the seeded dark red mixture begin to bubble, keeping an eye on the clock on the wall. The doppel is at the sink, already washing the used bowls and tools.
It’s time to add the sugar. You stir it in, once again timing your task, finally deeming the developing jam ready to be removed from the heat of the burner, switching the knob for the pilot light off as you move the pot to an unused burner.
You can feel the perspiration beading on your forehead as you whisk the heated fledgling fruit spread. Nearly there. Your strokes with the thin wired tool were releasing the natural pectin in the berries now. After that it was just a matter of filling and sealing the jars.
“What’s next? What can I do to help?” The doppelgänger asks, resting a hand on your lower back, where the heat lingers, making the dress cling damply to your skin.
“I think this is actually just about ready to start pouring.”
He turns over the mason jars that had been resting upside down over the tea towel to air dry, lining them up on the counter. You transfer small batches of the jam to a batter bowl, making it easier to fill each jar without spilling. A lot of dishes being used for this. Funny how you didn’t remember that part from childhood. Just the fun of making it with your grandmother.
The replicant screws the last of the lids on. The jam looks so inviting. You can’t wait to spread it on some toast with some butter after it’s had a day or two to set. Maybe just one day. You were really craving it now.
“It’s hot,” the imposter says, dragging a hand across his forehead. “I’m ready to head back into the tub after that.”
You like the idea of that yourself. “You should.”
“Coming with me?”
“I was hoping for an invitation.”
He kisses you and you taste the salt of his perspiration. “You look a little flushed. We definitely need to go cool down. And then heat up again.”
“Francis, you’re impossible. Go get the water running. I’ll finish cleaning up here.”
“It’ll be faster with both of us working together.”
You won’t argue with that, allowing him to assist you. Munching on some leftover blackberries as you work side by side. The last of the dishes done. Everything put away. Shutting off the record player on your way to the stairs. His hands work on the buttons of your dress after you’ve turned on the faucet to fill the tub. You loosen his belt. Shove the hem of his undershirt upward after he’s removed the outer layer. He reaches between his shoulders and pulls it free. You kiss the dip between his pectoral muscles lightly covered with dark hair. Suddenly finding yourself hungry for him.
“Should we wait on the bath for after?” he suggests.
“Yes. Definitely.” You switch the faucet off hurriedly, turning your attention back to him. He’s already entering the bedroom. The temperature in this room is hotter than it had been in the kitchen. No fresh breeze coming in through either of the windows. Just that stifling humidity. It needed to rain.
Undergarments removed. He kisses your bare shoulder, humming the song that had been playing the previous evening, when he’d met you at your front door, the start of your weekend together.
Blue Moon, you saw me standing alone
Without a dream in my heart
Without a love of my own
You sit down on the edge of the bed. A hand rests on your thigh as he kneels down. Fingers stained from some of the berry juice, garnet and magenta smudges along cuticles and nail beds. Your hand sinks into the hair you’d trimmed recently, finding it’s already growing long again. You bend to kiss his mouth and he tastes like the fruit, like summer itself, warm and fresh and sweet.
He leans to kiss the breasts that will one day bear the nutrition to feed your child, if it was ever meant to be, sucking gently, each nipple responding to that sensation, rising and hardening, the melody of that love song still emerging all the while.
Blue Moon, you knew just what I was there for
You heard me saying a prayer for
Someone I really could care for
Then he is between your thighs, every kiss still languid, drowsy, a leisurely summer afternoon gifted in each touch of his lips on your skin. Caressing your legs, the limbs that part to receive him. Gentle kisses on those nether lips, still humming, sending little vibrations into your body.
And then there suddenly appeared before me
The only one my arms will ever hold
I heard somebody whisper, "Please adore me"
And when I looked, the moon had turned to gold
His tongue strokes your clit and you lean back slightly, hands sinking into the mattress, arms braced to either side. His hands curl around your thighs and he sups at your sex, the pace still unhurried, easing you along into pleasure. Delving into your entrance, rolling the taste of you on his tongue before sweeping through the petals back to your bud, massaging it from side to side, up and down, pausing every now and again to plant a kiss on your mound or thigh, suckling the bundle of nerve endings and then dipping back into your canal in short, gentle little thrusts, the tune nearing its end, reaching the final verses, but yours have just started, that thrumming he sends through you, deep inside, an echoing response in your core.
Blue Moon, now I'm no longer alone
Without a dream in my heart
Without a love of my own
You let your weight rest on one hand so you can touch his hair again, meet the gaze of those dark eyes watching you, those depthless pools of desire you get lost in, drowning, a tide that washes you away into your release against his mouth.
You're sweating profusely now, damp inside and out as you scoot yourself back to the center of the bed, making room for your companion to join you.
There is always the little surprised sounding moan when he first enters you, as if he’s forgotten that feeling, rediscovering it each time his cock pierces your pussy. His hips roll against you in slow, lazy thrusts. He combs your damp hair back from your face, hair that has completely fallen loose, natural. He kisses your forehead and cheeks and lips, your jaw and throat and ear lobes.
“I love you,” he breathes against your neck. His voice sounds raw, full of emotion.
“I love you, Francis.” You grind up against his damp body.
His face hovers above yours. “Marry me.” You gasp as he grabs one of your thighs and rocks forward, pushing deep inside of you. “Marry me, be my wife. Stay with me always.”
Your heart pounds. To be joined with him like that. The mark on your arm only a faint pink line now. The traces of the bite completely disappeared. He wanted to put a ring on your finger. Everyone would know, then. There would be no concealing it.
“Be the mother of my children. Be mine forever.”
“Francis…”
“Please.”
“Yes. Yes, I’ll marry you.”
“I’ll do anything to make you happy.”
“I am happy. Happier than I’ve ever been. I’ve never loved anyone as much as I love you,” you add softly.
A heavy sigh as his body moves against yours, his face tucked into the crook of your neck. “My love, my only, mine.” His pelvis knocks against yours faster now. Your knees tightly embrace his ribs. Every part of skin your lips touch taste of salt. His hair is darker, saturated with sweat, the tendrils clinging damply to his forehead. A drop slides from his nose and pools between your lips. The arms bracing his weight near your face are trembling. So close to the edge of bliss.
“Love,” he gasps.
“Yes,” you answer, and he spills into you, filling your womb with his seed.
***
You sit inside the bathtub between the doppel’s legs, resting back against his chest.
“Close your eyes,” he instructs, and you obey, hearing something being lifted from that basin of water. The wash cloth, you realize, feeling the cool liquid dripping onto you hair, sliding down over your heated face. Repeating until your hair is thoroughly drenched in the bath water, his fingers slicking back those wet tresses, smoothing over your eyes, your cheeks, curling beneath your chin and lifting your face so that he can kiss you. Your eyes open and you see him smiling. “Better?”
“Much.”
“Good.” A rumble of thunder in the distance. Finally, the rain was coming. “Will we lose the power again, do you think?”
“Maybe. Wouldn’t be so terrible, though, would it? Just being here in the dark together.”
“Not at all. I have fond memories of doing that very thing.” He kisses you again and your stroke the damp cloth over his forearms. “I am going to get you a ring, you know. Propose properly.”
“I know.” You lift his left hand and kiss it. “We should tell my parents. Visit.”
“You want me to meet them?”
“Why not? They’ll be your in laws. The grandparents of your children.”
“Hmmm,” he hums. “We will need someone to watch the little ones. When it’s time to make more…”
“How many are you planning on?”
“I don’t know. There’s no specific number. I just want it. Badly.”
“I know you do. I do, too.”
“You’re still scared.”
“Yes.”
“I won’t let anyone harm you. You, or the children. However many there are.”
“I know you’ll be a good father. A good husband.”
His arms tighten around you. “You are my perfect everything.”
***
You do not lose the power that evening.
There is light for your repast at the kitchen table. Still too soon to indulge in the fruits of your earlier labors—pun intended—and neither of you want to heat up the house again using the stove, so you have a simple meal of bread, cheese, grapes, and iced tea, listening to the storm outside, this one much calmer than the last, starting to write a letter back to your parents, beginning with the exciting news of your engagement.
“Do you think your parents will like me?”
You pop a few grapes into your mouth. “Yes. My mom is very similar in personality to me. My dad maybe a little gruffer, but he’ll soften with time. Especially when he sees how well you treat me. He’d probably like it if you asked his permission first. Just as a courtesy. A formality.”
Francis’ copy slices another piece of cheddar free from the block, taking a bite and chewing thoughtfully. “What are you going to tell them about us, exactly?”
“Just that we met while I was working. You’re a resident in the building. The truth, you know.”
“But that’s not the whole story.”
You set your pen down. “I can’t tell them what you are. You know that.”
“Of course not. I’m just…wondering what to say. Or what not to say. How to behave.”
You lift the writing utensil again but don’t use it, merely holding it between your fingers. “Just be you.”
He looks over the top of his glass as you resume writing, neat cursive script filling the page. “Don’t forget to mention how handsome I am.”
“Hush, you.” You smirk, tossing one of the crumpled rough drafts at him and he easily catches it, returning your smile.
“And that I’m a good dancer.”
“You are a great dancer,” you concede, pausing again to tear off another piece of bread.
“We didn’t get to dance earlier.”
“We sort of did.”
His eyebrows lift. “I’ve corrupted you. That’s the sort of innuendo I’d deliver.”
“Speaking of which. No talking about wanting kids when we visit with my parents, at least not yet. They’re against premarital sex. Society doesn’t favor unwed women and it certainly doesn’t favor women who are unwed and pregnant. It’s because of the war. The need to repopulate, our purpose to create more soldiers.”
“We’re engaged, though.”
“Yes. But still not married.”
“I don’t want our children fighting in a war,” he says solemnly.
“Neither do I.” You pause, hesitating midway through writing again. “We are at war already. They’ll be born into it, just by the very nature of who they are. What they are.” You sigh, setting down the pen. The letter could wait for now. You don’t like the dark look on the features of the replicant sitting across from you.
“Come on. I owe you a dance.” You rise, reaching for the doppel’s hands and he allows himself to be tugged to his feet. “Go choose a record for us, my love.”
You clear the table while he rummages through the sleeved recordings. You leave the letter where it is. You’ll finish it in the morning, drop it off on your way to work Monday. At least there was one more day of this relaxed comfort, before you had to go back to the reality of the DDD.
You join your fiancé in the living room, positioning yourself with your dance partner, smiling as you recognize the song that starts to play.
Heaven, I'm in heaven
And my heart beats so that I can hardly speak
And I seem to find the happiness I seek
When we're out together, dancing cheek to cheek
“Fred Astaire, singing to Ginger Rogers. Another classic. This song was from the musical Top Hat. A big hit on the music charts.”
The doppel is silent, his hand warm against your waist, the other clasping your hand as you step and sway in a small circle.
Heaven, I'm in heaven
And the cares that hung around me through the week
Seem to vanish like a gambler's lucky streak
When we're out together, dancing cheek to cheek
“My mom loves that movie. You’ll curry some favor if you mention it. We’ll have to watch it together. The movie house downtown plays classics on Sunday nights. I’m babbling, aren’t I?” Two more verses of the song have already passed by.
“It’s alright. I don’t mind. We should go. I’ll take you.”
“A real date.”
“Yes, a real date.”
You grin, nuzzling his jaw. “I look forward to it.”
Dance with me. I want my arms about you
The charms about you
Will carry me through to
“I like making you happy.” He draws back to look at your features. “I want your parents to like me. I know it’s important to you. It’s important to me, too.”
“They’ll love you,” you say softly. “How could they possibly not?”
“Because…”
“No.” You release his shoulder, resting a finger against his lips. “You’re mine, and I’m yours, and that’s all that matters. I love you. You, inside of this man.” Your hand cups his cheek. “I’ve been calling you Francis all along. I don’t even know your name.”
“It’s…not something you could ever pronounce. The differences in language…”
“I’ll do my best to learn.”
“Sweetheart. Call me Francis. That’s who I am now. Your Francis. Yours.” He kisses you, and you become lost in the feel of it, in the sound of the needle of the record player tapping restlessly now that the song has finished, in the lullaby of the soft patter of the rain outside.
1K notes · View notes
rafeandonlyrafe · 1 month
Text
baby shoes
Tumblr media
words: 2.3k
warnings: 18+ only!, smut, best friend!rafe, childhood friends to lovers, pretty fluffy :), p in v sex, unprotected smut, breeding!, pregnancy kink?, no actual sex while pregnant but lots of like. bump descriptions?
rafe rolls his eyes as you let out a squeal, already knowing what is happening.
“oh. my. god.” you pick up the baby shoes off the shelf, a pair of sparkly flats with the cutest flower straps you've ever seen. “rafe, they're so tiny!”
you hold them up for him to look at as if he's never seen baby shoes before, despite you pointing them out to him every time you're out shopping together.
“yeah, real cute.�� he says, keeping his voice completely monotone.
“rafe, don't be so sour.” you pout at him. your friendship is an unexpected one. started in kindergarten and has only grown closer since, your sweet nature in contrast to rafes hard exterior.
“y/n.” rafe sighs, taking the baby shoes from your hands as he sets them back on the shelf. “we look at baby shoes and onesies every time we go to target. i brought you here to buy you a pair of boots, let's go.”
rafe tries to usher you down the aisle. despite you also being a kook he refuses to let you (or, really, your parents credit card) pay for anything.
you nod and continue to the women's section when you cross by a pair of ugg boots made for toddlers and stop in your tracks. “raaaafe!” you coo.
--
look how cute this baby is rafey
“are you serious?” rafe questions reading your text message. “im laying right next to you.”
“too much work to roll over and show you.” you shrug, both scrolling on your phones, having just gotten back from a long day. so long rafe insisted you slept at his because it was closer. only one block closer, but you didn't argue. rafes bed is also yours, and yours his. you've always shared, no need to change now just because you're older.
“that baby isn't even that cute.” rafe huffs out.
you turn over now, rolling onto your stomach to glare at him. “rafe cameron, you are such a dick!”
“oh, so you'll roll over to yell at me?” rafe questions, a smile on his face. usually he wouldn't take shit from anyone, but you're not just anyone to him.
“yes because you deserve it asshole. that baby is adorable.”
“yours would be way cuter.” rafe grins, knowing how flustered you get talking about having a child of your own.
“okay, true.” 
--
“what the fuck is going on?” rafe questions, his mouth literally dropping as he walks in.
“oh my god!” you squeal. “you told me you were coming over at 2, you idiot!” 
rafe looks at the time on your alarm clock. 1:55. rafe may have not knocked before letting himself in, but he figured it was fine. 
“what are you wearing?”
“it's… it's a fake pregnancy belly. my friend carly who works with the school plays said they were getting rid of it bc it was getting old… and i asked to have it.” you shrug, your embarrassment melting away the longer you talk about it.
“why would you want that?” rafe questions.
“i just wanted to see what id look like.” you shrug, turning again to look at yourself in the mirror, running your hands over the tshirt stretching around the plastic material. “i think i look cute.”
rafes eyes are on the round swell of your belly. he thinks you look more than cute, he thinks you look so ravishing he wants to make that belly real right this second.
“gonna take a shower.” rafe makes a turn towards your bathroom before you can argue, saving himself by locking the door behind him.
-- 
“why are you in a mood?” rafe just entered your house but he can already tell from the look on your face that something has upset you.
“freaking kelsey is pregnant.” you spit her name out like it's an insult. she's been your sworn moral enemy ever since she “dated” rafe in the fourth grade and told him he had to choose between staying friends with you or dating her. he chose staying friends of course, but you've despised her anyways since.
“okay…” rafe waits for more reasoning to you being so upset.
“that should be me.” you whine, not ashamed as you throw a little tantrum, stomping your feet on the ground.
“it can be.” rafe shrugs.
“huh?” you question, plopping back on the couch behind you, waiting for rafe to join you for movie night.
“you're not a kid anymore, y/n. you're 21. have a baby if you want.” rafe simply states.
“i- who would i even have a baby with? im single.” you've been single a majority of your life. there were flings in high school, but no one that lasted.
what you don't know if rafe contributed heavily to those relationships ending. he had staked his claim on you, and no guy was worthy in his eyes.
“id help you raise a baby.” rafe says without really thinking, sitting down on the couch next to you, not flinching as you turn to place your feet on his lap, always wanting to stretch out and get comfortable.
“you would?”
“im with you all the time anyways.” rafe nods. “if you had a baby id basically be their dad anyways.”
“id want that.” you admit. “you're the only guy out there i trust enough to get me pregnant.” you're not really thinking about your words themselves as you press your fingers to your stomach, imagining it filled up with a baby, with rafes baby.
“alright, we gotta talk about something else.” rafe shifts on the couch, pushing your feet off his lap to turn himself slightly away from you.
“wait why?” you question, sitting forward.
“just… change the subject.” rafe takes a deep breath, trying to calm down the boner that is growing in his pants.
“no, tell me!” you move closer, which only makes rafe turn away more. “tell me, rafey!”
he's never kept anything from you, and shockingly you can't figure out why he's behaving like this now.
“jesus, stop!” rafe scooches away when you grab onto his arm, trying to get him to face you, to look at you.
“tell me!” you complain again.
“because im fucking hard okay!” rafe shouts, standing up from the couch. “it's getting me fucking hard thinking about getting you pregnant so change the fucking subject!”
you sit on the couch in shock, eyes wide open. you know you shouldn't, he's your best friend after all, but you find your eyes moving lower, and sure enough, the front of rafes pants and tented, cock pushing away from his body.
“i-i-” you stammer.
“you nothing. okay? we forget this happened. just stop talking about getting fucking pregnant and stop talking about me being the one to do it.”
“but i want it to be you.” you blink up at rafe, head suddenly clearing. you do want it or be rafe. he's the only one who should be waking up in the middle of the night with you when your baby cries. he's the one you want to experience every milestone with. he's the one you want filling you up over and over until your tummy starts to swell.
“we can't go back.” rafe says, his tone suddenly serious. “we can't go back to just friends.”
“i know.” it's all you need to say for rafe to surge forward, dropping his knees to the floor as he kisses you, mouth easily dominating yours. you let out a soft moan as his hands cup your jaw, keeping you close even though you press yourself into him, hands fisted in his shirt.
“let me have you.” rafe pants against your mouth. “i need you. let me fill you up.”
“yes.” you nod. “yes, please. take your clothes off.”
you don't care that you're in the middle of your living room, you immediately tug your shirt off over your head, bearing your breasts to him. rafe knew you never wore a bra when in your own home, but seeing your bare tits is still a shock.
he doesn't even take his shirt off despite you tugging at it, cupping your chest as he leans in, mouth wrapping around your nipple.
“oh my god!” you squeal, fisting your hands in rafes hair, holding him close to your body as his tongue flicks over your nipple, hardening it quickly.
“i… im sorry baby i need to get inside of you.” rafe feels crude, tugging at your shorts to pull them down your legs, tossing them away.
“i need you too.” there will be plenty of time now that you've admitted feelings for each other to take your time, to go slow and learn each other's bodies.
rafe stands up, looking down at you in just your underwear, eyes glassy with lust as he pulls his shirt off, followed by him tugging his pants down, finally getting your eyes off his face as your eyes move down. you reach forward, hand rubbing over rafes length, annoyed that the fabric of his underwear is not allowing you to see him properly.
“fuck, stop.” rafe takes a step back. “im supposed to cum in you. get you pregnant. you're gonna make me bust.”
you smile, flattered that your simple touch can cause him to almost lose it.
“where do you want me.” you whisper. you aren't a virgin but you certainly aren't as experienced as rafe. while you know he partakes in hookups at parties you don't attend, you were never interested in sleeping around just for the sake of sleeping around.
“just lay back, baby.” rafe let's out a huff as you turn from sitting on the couch to laying down, your breasts falling beautifully as you wait for him to make the next move. “let's get these off.” rafe pulls your underwear down, but you keep your legs together to hide yourself for a little longer.
rafe shucks his underwear off next, praying his throbbing erection doesn't cause him to cum the second he gets inside of you.
you let out a low moan just from the both of you being naked. “gonna kneel down. wrap your leg around me.” rafe helps position you, spreading your legs as his eyes take in your wet cunt, pretty and perfect as he wraps your knee around his hips as he sinks himself down, moving to drape his body over yours.
“ill go slow.” rafe says, hoping he can stay true to his word as he reaches down, running his cock briefly through your folds, obsessed with the way your expression changed into one of pure pleasure.
“okay, just at first.” you nod. you need slow to open you up, to stretch your walls to allow rafes size, but you dont want it to stay slow, needing to feel him pound into you, make a mess of your cunt.
rafe sinks in with a gasp as your tightness and warmth envelops him. “fuck.” he mutters out, eyes squeezing closed as he inserts himself until he’s fully buried inside you pussy.
“feels real good rafey.” you pout. “cant believe we didn’t do this sooner. could already have a baby by now.” “oh, im gonna give you plenty.” rafe bends down to kiss you, letting himself get lost in the kiss, focusing on your mouth against his to distract from his throbbing cock.
“move.” you gasp, starting to grind your hips. “move.”
its all rafe needs to start smashing his hips back and forth, rocking into you in a steady but fast motion, aiming every time to get his cock as deep inside of you as possible.
“yes, yes!” you squeal, hands gripping his shoulders. as good as rafe thrusting into you feels, you want his cum more than anything. you begin to squeeze your pussy around him every time he pulls out before thrusting back in, and you can tell from the way rafes mouth hangs open that he likes it.
“fuck, im already close, sorry.” rafe has never had a problem cumming too early with anyone else, but hes never been with you, his best friend who he’s been head over heels for since kindergarten, who is begging to have him put a baby in your womb.
“cum in me. please.” you don’t even care about your own orgasm. you don’t even want it, already feeling so overwhelmed from the way rafes cock swells inside of you.
your eyebrows raise when you realize what the warmth spreading inside of you is, never having let a man take you without a condom. you let out a moan to match rafes as he cums, flooding your insides as he grinds into you. 
you wrap your arms around his shoulders, pulling him down onto you, not caring about the weight as you squeeze your cunt, milking any last drops out of him.
--
“oh my god, i’m gonna cry its so cute.” tears brim in your eyes as you look at your finished nursery, rafe having done the last of the decorations when you were napping, putting the final touches on.
“you're so cute.” he hums, wrapping his arms around you as he stands behind you, also looking over the room. 
“thank you. its perfect.” you sniffle.
“you’re perfect.” rafe has been overwhelming you with compliments lately, wanting to make sure that you know he is still very much attracted to you with your pregnant belly. “and beautiful. and hot. and sexy.” “oh, stop it.” you roll your eyes with a giggle, turning to face rafe.
“it would be inappropriate to have sex in our babies nursery, wouldn’t it?” despite the baby not even being here yet, rafe looks around the former guest bedroom and realizes that it simply wouldn’t be right.
“you’re not getting me on the floor anyways.” you press your hands to your stomach. seven months along with rafes baby.
“probably for the best.” rafe places his hand on your back, leading you out of the nursery and towards your bed. “wanna eat you out on our bed anyways, mamas.”
taglist: @drewstarkeyslut @forstarkey @f4ll-for-you @dilvcv @drudyslut @jjmaybankswifes-blog @rafescokenostril @jjsmarijuana @seeingstarks @angelofcigs @cece45450 @babygorewhore @vanessa-rafesgirl @michelleisheres-blog @outerbankspov @drewstarkeyswifehoe @cutielando @kamninaries @buckyswhxre @rafeinterlude @bellbottombaby @deeaardiary @rubixgsworld @wearemadeofstardust0 @leighbronk @starkeysheart @pradabambie @tobesolovelysstuff @alexiskirkland @rafestar @brioffthegrid @juniebugg @magicalyoura @cokepewpsii @mysticallystilinski @luvdella @aerangi @folklorsweet @soilderpoetandking @auryyz
2K notes · View notes
jpmarvel90 · 3 months
Text
Tumblr media
Don't Belong pt 1
Masterlist Natasha Masterlist
Word Count: 8392
Relationship: Mother WandaNat x Daugher Reader
Summary: Y/n is the adopted daughter of Natasha Romanoff and Wanda Maximoff. However, when science enables her mother's to have twin boys who are biogloically both of their's, her relationship slowly changes. At 17 she's ready to move out and move on, is it too late for her moms to fix things?
Y/n's POV:
When I was 6, my life was saved by none other than the Black Widow. She came in like the hero she is and saved me from the hell that was Hydra. Whilst helping me to acclimatise to normal life, we grew close, and she was a mother figure I never had. I was so shocked when she told me that she wanted to adopt me.
It was everything that I could ever ask for. She was an amazing mom. Caring, loving and always there for me. She had this soft side that not many people got to see. To the world, and a lot of the team, she had this tough, steely exterior. But I never saw that. Not from the moment she found me. I always felt safe and loved around her.
A couple of years later, Wanda joined the team and soon enough, Mama fell in love. I never saw mama so happy. They had the perfect relationship and Wanda took me on without a second thought. When I was 9, she adopted me, and I had two loving parents.
We had quite a domestic life. Tony built us a separate suite at the compound so we could still be close by for when they were needed for missions. I loved having parents that were heroes. I was so proud of them. I ended up spending quite a bit of time with Pepper when they were on missions together, but when they came home, they always had a couple of days off to spend time with me to make up for being away. It was great.
Watching them make a difference in the world, was the reason I joined the SHIELD Young Initiative Programme. I wanted to be just like my moms. Steve became a huge support to me, and alongside him and mama, I was acing all my practicals and exams.
But before that, when I was 11, our family grew. With the help of Bruce and Tony, Mom got pregnant with twins, both biologically hers and mamas. Billy and Tommy made our family complete.
As soon as Mom got pregnant, Mama told Fury that she wouldn't be going on missions once mom got into her third trimester and that after the birth they both would be taking maternity leave. She also told him that they would only ever be sent on a mission together if it was to save the world. Otherwise, under no circumstances were they to go together. They wanted to be around for the twins as much as possible and didn't want them left on their own if they had to go on missions together.
For the first couple of years, everything was perfect. But when they became toddlers, they were a bit of a handful. It meant that mom's focus went to them and slowly I became less of a priority for them.
I found it hard as I was coming into my teenage years, and I felt like I needed my moms more than ever. But I understood at the start. I was old enough that I could look after myself and the twins needed more. But it got harder when every time I tried to talk to one of them, I was brushed off, or told to speak to them later. But later never came.
Once I hit 13, I was their personal babysitter whenever they needed it. Mama told me how they were trying to make sure that her and mom still had quality time together, so had a date night or day each week. Seems they forgot about quality time with their daughter. It got to the point I was expected to drop everything to be there for my brothers. Picking them up at school, taking them to soccer. It didn't matter what I had planned, I was expected to do my job for the family. I did it without complaining, because I thought if I could prove that I was a good sister, maybe they would start to acknowledge me more.
To try and prove myself worthy, I worked even harder for SHIELD. However, now I lost mama as my training partner. She was too busy with work or the twins to help me train. It hurt when she told me that but, thankfully, Steve stepped up more than he had. He became like a father to me. I could confide in him when my moms didn't have time. Though there were still things that I couldn't talk to him about.
Now I'm 17, working towards graduating the youth programme and into SHEILD as an official agent. We have our final exams coming up and I'm doing everything I can to be ready for them. The top two initiates will get fast tracked through the system and be able to go on missions sooner.
I want nothing more than getting that chance. I need to start making a name for myself and to stop being under my mothers' shadow. Once I wanted to be just like them, to make them proud. But now I know that's not possible. They have their perfect biological family. I was just the stray they took pity on.
"You know, you could take it easy today. You're more than capable of passing these exams even on a bad day. You'll be finishing top of the class and joining us for missions in no time." Steve tells me as he holds the punch bag for me. "I just want to be on top of my game." I tell him, hitting the bag as precisely as I could.
"Have you told your moms about the date for your final practical. I'm sure they'll want to be around when you get home." He asks, making me falter with my hits. "I did, but I don't think they were listening. Although they seemed to acknowledge it, Billy was showing them his Lego at the time." I share with him.
Steve knows what's been happening with my moms and the only reason he hasn't done anything is because I made him promise not to. All I need to do is graduate and then I can get moved into the SHIELD facility and start a new life without being a burden on my family.
"You know, you should talk to them. I know you've tried, but really sit them down and tell them how you're feeling." He tries once again. "It's been years now. If they really cared for me, they would notice that they barely see me anymore. I don't even remember the last time they said I love you." I respond, my hits getting harder.
"Ok, I'm calling this. You'll hurt yourself and then you won't even be able to complete your exams." Steve tells me, stepping between me and the bag. I sigh but know he's right. "Just try for me ok. Maybe after your exams. They'll be so proud of you." He pleads. "Ok, fine." I agree. "Now go shower kiddo. You stink!" He teases me before dodging a punch I try to land on his arm.
I smile as I head up to my room. As I walk into our apartment, I see the happy family sat together watching TV. "Hi moms." I call out when I enter. They don't even turn around, so I call out again, only to get the same response. I decide to go and join them but as soon as I sit down, I'm scolded by mom. "Y/n do you have to come in here like that. Go and shower will you." She tells me off. I look to mama who doesn't even glance in my direction. "Sorry, I was training for my final exam." I explain but once again, nothing. I let out a small humourless chuckle to myself as I leave the living room. Every day, I feel more and more like I don't belong here anymore.
__________
I did it! I actually passed! Not only did I pass, I topped the class. I think I even saw Fury smile. I'm so happy, nothing can burst my bubble right now. As a class, we all decide that we're going to celebrate tonight. We've been a tight group and it'll be nice to actually spend time together without having to study or practice.
I practically run back to the compound, smiling ear to ear. "Someone's happy." Steve calls out to me as I rush through the kitchen. "Someone might be your partner one day!" I call out as I keep on towards my destination of finding my parents. "Can't wait kiddo. Well done! Knew you could do it!" Steve shouts after me.
"Y/n, don't run!" Mama scolds me as I find them in the living room. "Sorry, but I have to tell you something that I know you'll want to hear." I apologise with a smile on my face. "Not now Y/n. We're about to head out. The boys just need dinner and don't let them stay up late." She tells me. That's when I notice that she's dressed up in her best jacket.
"I can't look after the twins tonight. Our class are going to celebrate." I explain, hoping she might ask why we're celebrating. But that would be wishful thinking. "Time with your friends can wait Y/n." She tells me without even looking up at me, too focused on her phone. "Can't one of the others watch them. Just for tonight. I've never asked before. But just this once. Please." I practically beg, but to no use. "Stop being selfish and just watch the boys." She snaps, making a lump form in my throat.
"Fine." I mumble, leaving the room and head out of our apartment. "Where are you going?" She calls after me. "To see Steve. Don't worry, I'll be back to watch your precious boys." I talk back whilst leaving, hearing her call after me.
I make my way to find Steve. I know he'll be excited with my results. I wipe at my eyes for the few traitorous tears that fell. "So, I hear someone will be an Avenger in no time." Tony says as I walk into the kitchen. "I think I'll stick with SHIELD." I respond. I have no desire to be a full time Avenger. I'll be around to see my moms live their perfect life without me.
"I'm proud of you kiddo." Steve smiles at me, pulling me into a hug. "Thanks, old man. I couldn't have done it without you." I tell him truthfully, squeezing him tighter. "Your mom's must be proud. Especially Nat. Now's the time for celebrating." Pepper says. "Oh, I'm babysitting the boys tonight." I respond, trying to hide my disappointment. I notice that all others share a look.
They have all noticed how my relationship has changed with my moms, but thankfully, never brought it up. "We could watch them. Let you go out with your class. I know how much you've been looking forward to it." Pepper offers kindly. "Thanks, but mama said it had to be me." I reply. "Sorry kiddo." Steve says, wrapping his arms around me. "It's ok. I better go back before I get into trouble. I just wanted to tell you all about the results." I tell them.
"Of course Y/n. We're so proud of you. I can't wait to work with you." Tony pats me on the shoulder, whilst the others all give me a hug. "We'll do something together tomorrow." Steve promises and I nod. "I'd like that." I reply, taking a deep breath before heading back home.
When I get back to the apartment, both mom and mama are waiting to go. "Good, you're back. We'll be home late." Mom tells me, turning to leave. "And we'll talk about your attitude in the morning." Mama adds on with a stern look before turning to leave. "I love you." I call out after them. No response. My head drops. I really have just become the live in nanny.
_________
The next day, I didn't have to face my moms in the morning. They had taken the boys to the park and out for breakfast. I didn't even get an invite. But thankfully, Steve is taking me for dinner tonight to celebrate the passing of my exams and my imminent graduation.
He's taken me to my favourite Italian restaurant. It's nice to have this time. Steve really has been the only parent I've had recently. I'm so grateful for him. "So your moms don't know?" Steve asks as I tell him that I've been told I can move into SHIELD accommodation in a few days. "I've tried, but as usual, I barely have a conversation with them anymore. They probably wouldn't even notice that I've gone." I admit the painful truth. "Do you think they even still love me?" I ask the question that has been haunting me for a long time now.
Steve looks at me with a sympathetic look. He reaches out and takes my hand. "Oh Y/n. I'm sure they do. They just got lost in the boys and have forgot, that even though you're a teenager, you still need them." He tries to defend them. "If you say so." I mumble, not believing him.
"Well, I have something that might cheer you up." Steve says, changing the subject. "Oh yeah, and what might that be Captain?" I ask with a smirk, making him roll his eyes. "I spoke with Fury, and he already has a mission for you. It's nothing too big, a simple in and out to get some data." Steve explains, making a smile grow on my face. "Really? Me on a mission already?" I question and he nods. "Fury would have had you on them earlier. You've been the best recruit the programme has seen. But he had to follow protocol. There is one downside though." He shares. "Oh God, don't tell me it's with my mother?" I ask making him laugh. "No, just this old man." He responds. "Really? I'm going with you?" I ask excitedly. "Yeah, you don't need me. But I wanted to see you in action on your first mission. I really am proud of you kiddo. I'm glad that I've had a front row seat to seeing you become the woman you have." He expresses honestly, taking me off guard.
The rest of dinner is lovely, and I have a really nice time. It's nice to actually have someone care about your achievements. However, that happiness soon disappears when I enter the apartment to two angry moms. "Where do you think you've been? You've not been answering your phone." Mama yells at me. I reach into my pocket and see that my phone is dead.
"Sorry, my cell died." I tell her, but that doesn't help. "So, are you going to share where you were without telling us? It's 10pm Y/n!" Mom now joins in. "I was having dinner with Steve." I share. "Until this late. Why would you be going out for dinner on a school night? Why didn't he ask us first?" Mama questions me.
"We went out to celebrate when I missed going with my class. And it's not a school night. The programme has finished now." I tell them, trying to keep my cool. "Is this about that party you couldn't go to last night?" Mom asks. "No, actually, it was having someone to celebrate with that I finished top of my class and am now officially a SHIELD agent!" I snap back, taking them both by surprise.
"You've had your final exams already?" Mom asks, stepping closer but I pull away. "Yeah, I have told you on a number of occasions. But apparently you don't listen to me anymore." I admit, feeling tears building. "You finished top?" Mama says proudly, but I just scoff. Her pride is too late. "Like you even care." I growl. "Don't talk to your mother like that." Mom tells me off.
"Like what? You haven't given me the time of day in years. Why do you suddenly care that I was out late. Was I not around to be your personal babysitter? Or were you just annoyed I wasn't there for the one time you noticed I wasn't around." I call them both out taking them by surprise.
"Y/n it was one night." Mom tries to deny more calmly. "No, it wasn't. It's always the twins this, the twins that. I have to make allowances for them in my life and stop what I'm doing to be there to babysit them. When was the last time that you spent any time with me? When did you last tell me you love me or even acknowledge me?" I shout, tears falling down my cheeks, as my parents stand staring at me in shock.
"I have worked my ass off with SHIELD so I can get in and earn my spot with them. Where I can have my own place and start a life for myself. Because I clearly haven't been a part of this family for a long time." I share how I've been feeling. I notice that both their eyes tear up. "Oh Y/n, sweetheart, that's not the case. Of course you belong." Mama tries to argue, moving closer with a shaky hand out in front of her. I don't reach out. In fact, I move away. "Well neither of your actions have shown it in the last few years." I point out, making mom cry harder. "Look it's fine. I get it. I'm not your biological child. Billy and Tommy are. I'll always be grateful for you saving me from Hydra, but you've got your family now. Don't worry, I'll be gone in a couple of days." I say sadly before heading to my room, my moms frozen in shock in their spot.
I slam the door shut behind me, locking it and falling onto my bed. I bury my head into the pillow and sob. All the emotions I've been bottling up come out. My whole body wracks with each sob as I realise, it's official. I really have lost my family now.
Nat's POV:
I feel the tears slowly falling down my cheeks as I realise that my daughter stood before me as a broken girl who thinks her moms don't love her anymore. By the time I come to my senses, Y/n is already gone, and I'm left facing my wife who is sobbing. "Have we really been putting the boys first so much she thinks that we don't want her anymore?" I say at a whisper, my voice getting caught in my throat.
"It's my fault. Things changed when I came into the picture, and we started trying for our own babies. We didn't even consider how that must have made her feel. We didn't even reassure her that we would still love her just as much, regardless of if the boys were ours biologically or not." Wanda responds.
I quickly move forward and wrap my arms around her. "It's not your fault my love. We both wanted that. Our lives are significantly better with you in them Wanda. But you're right. We should have tried harder to make sure we involved Y/n and showed her will still love her." I comfort her.
I can't believe that I've let Y/n get to this point. The day I found her in that cell, she changed my life for the better. She not only made me a mother, but she made me more human. She made me see there was more than being an Avenger. She is the reason that I who I am today. Yet I've neglected her. I got so focused on the twins that I didn't even notice how little I have seen Y/n.
"We should go and talk to her." I suggest whilst Wanda still clings to me. "She was angry. We should give her some space. Let's take her for breakfast in the morning. I'll ask Pepper to watch the boys and we can start to make this right." She counters. "But..." I start, not wanting to leave this longer than we have to. "This is our daughter we're talking about. She has your temper." Wanda tearily chuckles. "Hey!" I poorly defend. She's right though. She might not be biologically mine, but she is my mini me.
That night I don't sleep. All I can think of is every time that I blew Y/n off and decided to spend time with the twins instead. When did we stop doing things as a family? I try and think of the last time I trained with her or helped her prepare for her exams. God, how did I not even know she was taking them this week?! "Your thoughts are loud Detka." Wanda mumbles sleepily as she turns over to look at me. When she sees the distress on my face, she gives me a sympathetic smile. "She has worked so hard, and we didn't even know she was completing her final exams. She told us yet neither of us remembered or even heard her apparently. We are awful moms!" I sigh.
Wanda moves and pulls me into her embrace. "I know. I feel awful too. I'm so proud of her though. She finished top. She's just like you." She shares. "She's moving out." I realise whilst Wanda just looks at me confused. "What do you mean?" She questions. "She said she would be gone in a few days. She must have been assigned a room at SHIELD. Our little girl was ready to leave the nest and we didn't even know." I respond, another wave of sadness washing over me.
"We'll talk to her and make her see that she is still very much wanted here. If she still wants to move out that's fine, but she has to know that we love her and always have. We can't change the past but we sure as hell can make sure we change the future and how see feels." She says determined.
Neither of us really sleep. I think we regret not talking to her last night. But our tiredness soon takes over and we get some much need kip. It definitely won't do any of us favours when we talk to Y/n in the morning. She won't make it easy on us and I don't want to snap because I'm too tired.
When we eventually get up, we check on the boys and I go to ask Pepper if she would mind watching the boys. "Is Y/n not available?" Pepper asks with a humourless chuckle. "What? No, we're going to take her to breakfast." I respond, surprised at the bite to her tone. She hums in surprise. "I'll take the boys. Make sure you treat that girl. She definitely deserves it." She tells me firmly. I nod and thank her before going to get the boys.
"Everything ok?" Wanda asks me when I take Billy from her. "Whilst we've been failing to notice Y/n, I think everyone else has noticed our behaviour. It's very frosty down there." I tell her and she nods sadly. I guess we can't expect anything less.
It makes me wonder what could have happened if we didn't have everyone else around. They have clearly been supportive to her and been there when Wanda and I should have. What if she didn't have that support, would she have even still been with us?
Shaking off the thought, Wanda and I take the boys to the compound living room, where we receive a number of glares from the team that were there. Thankfully, nothing is said, but my guilt keeps on growing.
With the boys sorted, I take Wanda's hand and we head to Y/n's room. I take a deep breath and knock on the door. We wait anxiously but get no response. I try again, calling out to her this time. "Y/n, honey. Can we come in?" I ask, but once again, we're met by silence.
I look to Wanda who's got a concerned look on her face. "Sweetheart, we're going to come in now." Wanda speaks up and pushes down on the door handle. I'm surprised when it opens but that is soon replaced by shock when I see her room practically empty. There are a couple of boxes with her stuff in, but most of her clothes have gone.
I let go of Wanda's hand and quickly move into the ensuite to see if she's in there, but I'm met by more empty cabinets. Panic builds within me to know that she's gone. "Where is she?" Wanda asks as stands by the chest of draws, picking up photos that had been turned upside. She lets out a muffled sob when she sees they're our family photos. What have we done to our daughter.
"She's probably asked Fury if she could move sooner. Considering how much he loves her, I'm sure he would have done anything to get her in as soon as possible." I respond, letting out a sigh. "But she's only 17. She's still a kid." Wanda argues. "I know babe. But when she signed up, it was part of the contract that I signed as her parent. Besides, she turns 18 next week and we'd have no say anyway." I admit.
"Shit, is it already her birthday? We've done nothing to prepare for that. In fact, I'm sure we both forgot." Wanda exhales, running her hands through her hair, whilst I made sure all the photos were back upright. Though, I notice our last family photo was back when Y/n was just 15. We've got hundreds of photos with the twins, but it's been over two years since we've had a complete family photo.
Wanting to know that Y/n is ok, I grab my phone out and hit Fury's number. It rings out and I let out a sigh before trying Maria. "Romanoff." She greets me. "Hill, I was wondering if you could tell me if Y/n has moved into her room yet and if so where she's been placed. Wanda and I want to surprise her." I try my luck.
"I'm sorry, Y/n has asked that we don't disclose her room location at the moment. She has been allowed early move in, so will be in a position to share once the other agents are moving." Hill responds. "Please, Maria, I'm asking you as a friend. We really need to see Y/n." I plead, hoping she'll have sympathy on me. "And I'm telling you as a friend that how you treated your own daughter is unacceptable. Do you know why she was the best cadet to come through?" She calls me out. "No." I respond in a whisper. "Initially it was because she was trying to be just like her hero mothers. But she got even better when she was fighting to make her own name for herself to start her life over. I watched her personality change to become guarded and her walls built high. That's what you did to her Nat." She scolds me through the phone.
"I know Maria. We have fucked up more than we thought possible and we're trying to make this right. We can't do that if we can't even speak with her." I counter. "This isn't something you can just fix with a talk and a hug. This is years of you slowly neglecting her. Pushing yourself onto her is not going to help with that." Maria warns me. I know she's right. We'll end up pushing Y/n away if we're not careful. But I also know that I can't wait to fix this. I want my baby girl to know how much I love her. Despite my inability to show her these last few years.
Wanda and I spend the day trying to get any information on where Y/n might be. We get a lot of cold shoulders, and our questions often go answered. I even spend time hanging around the Shield accommodation to see if I can catch a glimpse of her. My lucks not in and I return home deflated.
When I walk through the door, a smile forms on my face as I see Wanda giving the boys dinner. "Any luck?" She asks. I just shake my head. "We'll find her." She says confidently. "When was the last time we had dinner with Y/n?" I ask, looking to Wanda who's looking at me sympathetically. "Detka, you are punishing yourself by think that." She scolds me lightly. "It's true though. She asked when we last said I love you to her. I've been trying to think, and I don't remember. How can a mother not remember when they last said I love you to their child. Have we really subconsciously disregarded her because she isn't biologically ours?" I share my thoughts, tears falling freely down my face.
Wanda quickly moves from the table, leaving the boys to carry on talking about the latest Nintendo game they're playing. She wraps her arms around me and pulls me in close. "We let ourselves get lost in the boys. They were a handful and we were blessed with a daughter who was selfless and caring. Subconsciously, we took advantage of that. But that changes now ok." She responds as I nod in the crock of her neck. We really need to fix this.
__________
It's been a few days and we've still had no luck in seeing Y/n. Wanda and I decided to go to Shield to talk to Fury today, whilst the boys were in school. I head straight to his office, knocking twice before heading in, not caring if he's busy. "Romanoff, Maximoff. What can I do for you?" He asks, moving his gaze from the laptop in front of him.
"It's been long enough now Fury. The other agents have started moving in and Y/n is still only 17, so tell us where she is staying." I demand, my tone harsh. "I can give you her room allocation, but she's not there." Fury responds, just angering me more. "Then where the hell is she?!" I shout, only calming down when I feel Wanda squeeze my hand. "She's on a mission. She'll back tomorrow." He responds nonchalantly.
"A mission? She's 17 Fury! How is she already going on a mission?!" Wanda responds before I even manage to direct my own anger into words. "She is almost 18 and finished top of her class. You knew that was a possibility when you signed her up Romanoff. She has the potential to be the best agent we've seen. She is ready." Fury retorts, but I'm still not happy. "She's just a kid, she could get hurt." I growl, worry taking over me.
"Natasha, she is far from the kid you think she is. If you still trained with her, you'd see that she can almost beat Steve in hand to hand combat and her weapons skill matches your own, if not better in some instances." He points out and I realise how little I actually know my daughter right now. "Look, I'll keep you posted when she's back." Fury concedes after a moment silence.
"Thank you. Is she on her own?" I ask but he shakes his head. "Steve went to be on comms." He replies and that puts my mind at ease a little. He loves her like his own, he'll do everything that he can to protect her. "Ok. Thank you." I say, taking Wanda's hand a heading home.
"We've missed so much Nat. Y/n used to tell us everything about her training and classes. We've created an environment where she doesn't feel like she can share with us anymore. She was probably so excited to get a chance on her first mission. But instead of us being with her and making sure she's prepared, we didn't even know she had gone." Wanda agonises.
"I'm worried that we may not be able to fix this. If her walls have gone up, they'll be near impossible to knock them down." I sigh. "You had walls once. What helped you to let them down?" Wanda asks. "Y/n." I respond, my gaze dropping to my hands. "Then we find away to be the same for her." Wanda tries to comfort me. But how can the people that caused her this pain, be the ones to pull her through.
The next morning is quiet whilst we get the boys ready for school. They asked this morning where Y/n was and that they missed her. It broke my heart. Because of our actions, not only is Y/n feeling alone, isolated, and not part of this family, but her brother might lose the chance of having their sister in their lives.
When we get home, we end up just sat waiting for any news that Y/n is on her way home so we can greet her. I want to be able to hear all about how her first mission went and actually be apart of something so special to her. I may not have shown it, but I've always been proud of her. She is talented and I loved training with her. I had always planned to join her again once the twins were old enough. But I didn't and it seems that I have missed out on so much.
Whilst I'm preparing lunch, I hear Friday's alarm go off and my ears tune in. "Emergency medical team to the landing bay. Emergency medical team to the landing bay." I don't even think before I'm dropping the knife onto the countertop. I go to call for Wanda, but she rushes in from the bedroom. "Something's wrong with Jess. I can feel it." She says worriedly. "Let's go." I say, taking her hand and rushing through the compound to get to the landing bay.
Cho is waiting, along with a nursing staff. "Is it Y/n?" I ask as we come to a halt next to her. It feels like an age before she responds. A small nod of the head breaks my heart. "H-how bad?" Wanda asks, a tremble to her voice. "Steve confirmed a gunshot wound. She's lost a lot of blood." She responds. I run my hand through my hair, my stomach in knots.
It feels like the world around me has become muffled. I don't hear the orders that Cho is giving her team. Had I been able to, maybe I would have known more about her condition. My chest feels tight at the thought of her being hurt and the chance that she might not make it.
It's not until a pair of hands cup my face, that I zone back into the environment around me. "Breathe for me baby." Wanda's shaking voice tries to calm me. But the complete fear in her own eyes doesn't do much to help. We're facing losing our daughter and she doubts the depths of our love for her.
I do my best to bring myself out of this panic attack. I can't be a broken version of myself. My wife and family need me more than ever. If I can't pull through now, I'm not worthy to be a mother. "That's it detka. Deep breathes." Wanda guides me. I take one more deep breath and stand straighter. This isn't about me.
I can see a frown on Wanda's face form as she sees me put up my own walls. I know that she hates when I do this, but it's the only way I know how to get through what's about to happen without completely breaking down.
It's not long until the QuinJet comes into sight and slowly starts to descend on to the landing pad. I feel like I'm holding my breath as we wait for the ramp to lower, and we can see how bad this is. My heart is thumping against my chest as it begins to lower, and I see Steve's face first.
Cho and her team move forward, a bed waiting, whilst Wanda and I hold back. I want to be by her side straight away, but I also know that we'll just be a hinderance to her care if we insist on being with her.
When we get a full view of Steve, I hear Wanda let out a sob beside me. He's holding our unconscious daughter in his arms. His own suit is covered in blood and my eyes instantly land on the blooded dressing on her stomach. "I tried to staunch the bleeding as best I could. But it just kept coming." Steve explains. I've never seen him so shaken up before.
He places Y/n on the hospital bed and moves out the way, before staring at his bloodied hands. Cho doesn't wait before rushing Y/n off to the medical bay, the three of us closely following behind.
"Is she going to be ok?" I ask as they start to get to work. But before she has a chance to respond, the machines start to go crazy and they move even faster to help my daughter.  "I can't answer that right now Agent Romanoff. I need to focus on Y/n, but I promise I'll keep you updated." Cho says, her polite way of telling us to leave. I'm reluctant, knowing that in this moment, Y/n is on the verge of life or death. But with a subtle tug of my hand from Wanda, I follow to watch through the window outside.
My gaze doesn't leave my daughter as I watch over as the team work to save her life. I don't notice that another person has joined us until I hear a bang from behind me. My head shoots around where I see Steve pinning Fury to the wall. "You told us it was empty! That all she needed was to get to the drive and out again." Steve growls at Fury who's holding his hand up in surrender. "I know." He responds, but Steve isn't happy when he slams him against the wall again.
"Then why the hell is she led in that hospital fighting for her life. There was a whole guard waiting for her!" Steve yells. This information makes the anger inside me grow. "You sent her into an ambush?!" I join in now, furious that he has put my daughter in danger.
"I didn't know! I'm as surprised as you are." Fury tries to explain, but Steve isn't letting up. "Talk!" Steve spits. "I had an agent scout the base for two weeks! Every report was how there was no activity. I would never have sent her had I know there was any more risk. It was supposed to be an easy mission for her first." Fury explains.
I can see the honesty in his eyes, and I know Steve does too. Fury has been like family to Y/n and I do trust he would never willingly put her in unnecessary danger. "So, either Hydra suddenly decided to man the base or..." Steve starts. "The agent tipped them off." I finish off as Fury nods. "I've detained the agent, and he broke within minutes. It was a perfect opportunity for them to fight you without back up." Fury shares as Steve lets him go. "Except I wasn't meant to go in. So, they were faced with Y/n." Steve concludes.
"I'm sorry Nat. I really am. I never would put Y/n in danger like that. I wanted her to have a successful first mission. One that would build her confidence." Fury apologises with a sincerity that he rarely shows. "I want to see him." I state firmly, to which Fury sighs. "Me too. It's because of him that our daughter is fighting for her life." Wanda steps beside me, her eyes glowing red. "Not now, not while you're both angry and worried." Fury refuses. "He could be the reason my daughter dies!" I shout at him, but he doesn't budge. "And he'll also be the reason I have to arrest you for killing him. If it's not you it'll be Wanda. I'm not letting either of you do that." Fury once again declines.
In a huff, I drop to the seat in the waiting room, my head falling into my hands. He's right. I will kill him if I get my hands on him. "Be here for Y/n. She needs you now more than ever. Leave the rest to me. I can promise that he will not get away with it." Fury orders, the formality coming back into his tone. We all reluctantly agree, and he leaves content that, for now, a homicide will not be occurring.
"What happened?" I ask Steve when the silence becomes almost unbearable. He takes the seat next to me and his gaze falls to his blooded hands. "It was meant to be a simple mission to test her hacking. I was in the QuinJet for support, and she was to go in, get to the mainframe computer and download as much data as possible." He starts and I nod along. "It was going fine, and she was doing everything by the book, clearing each room one by one. Part of me was sure she would be just like you and be impatient to get what she needed." He shares, with a small smile, making me chuckle. "Thankfully, she's a far better agent than I am." I respond, feeling Wanda's hand interlink with mine.
"It was as she got to the second floor, she said something felt off. It was warmer and it didn't smell as damp and musty. She said there were signs that this floor had been used recently. Knowing the risk that could entail, I told her to pull back and we'd get a team to help us clear the base. It wasn't something we should be doing on our own." He continues to explain, my anger towards the double agent increasing by the minute. But I also feel pride at how she was able to establish that something was wrong.
"She did as I ordered, but she was ambushed on her way out. I was already on my way in to meet her when I heard gunshots start. By the time I reached her, all the agents were down around her, but an alarm was blaring, and I knew others would be on their way. I grabbed at Y/n's arm, but she didn't move. As I moved in front of her, it was then I saw where her gaze was fixed. She's been hit. I got her out of there as quickly as I could and set the QuinJet to fly on autopilot. I tried everything that I could to stop the bleeding, but there was just so much. I-I...." Steve starts to crumble as he aggressively rubs at the blood on his hands.
I reach out and place my hands over his, stopping his actions. "I know you would have done everything you could Steve. We don't blame you. I'm so grateful that you were there to help our daughter." I try to reassure him. "I'm going to clean up. I can't sit here with...this on my hands any longer." Steve says, standing up holding his hands out in front of him.
Silence falls again when it's just Wanda and me. I want to look through the window again, but I don't think I can see them working on her. If she dies, I can't watch that. She looked so small as Steve laid her on the bed. "I had always hoped I'd be with her on her first mission." I speak up, guilt building once again. "Hmm" Wanda responds, turning to look at me. "When we used to train together, I always knew she would be one of the best the agency we would see. I couldn't wait to work along side her. My pride was overwhelming." I share as Wanda smiles softly at me.
"What happened? Why did I let myself lose sight of her. I have no excuse for treating her how I did. When I adopted her, I promised that she would always be loved and safe. Look at her now. I wouldn't blame her if she never forgives me." I lament, tears stinging my eyes. "It wasn't just you babe. We both have done wrong by Y/n and it's not forgivable. But we can work to earn her trust back and be the mothers that she deserves." She tries to comfort me.
"What if she doesn't make it and we don't have a chance to make things right? Or she does make it through, but she wants nothing to do with us?" I question in a panic. "I think she always hoped you'd eventually pull your heads out your asses." Steves voice takes us both by surprise as he rejoins us in a pair of sweats and a hoody. "What do you mean?" I ask, confused.
"Fury loves that kid. If she had asked to move out sooner, he would have allowed her too. I think part of her didn't want to go just in case you started being the loving and caring mothers you once were. Ultimately, she was still a kid and desperate to still have you in her life." He clarifies. "But she had already gone. We blew our last shot." Wanda speaks up. "Maybe you're right. But if anyone is worth fighting for. It's her." Steve points out and I couldn't agree more. I know that I'll do anything in my power to make things right and hopefully prove to my daughter that I love her more than I can express.
After hours of waiting, too scared to even glance through the window, Cho comes out of the medical room with a solemn look, and it feels like all the air has been sucked out of the room. I feel my breathing pick up once again, the thought of not being able to fix everything with Y/n becomes suffocating. It's not until Wanda grasps my hand that I find myself zoning back in.
"H-how is s-she?" I find myself asking in a quiet, unsure voice. Cho sighs and takes the seat opposite us, her hands interlocked. "Y/n suffered a gunshot wound to her abdomen. The bullet went straight through her liver. We were required to remove part of her liver, to ensure we saved her life. This was harder with the amount of blood that she lost. However, we were able to stabilise her before repairing the damage done to her liver." She explains.
"So, she's going to be, ok?" Wanda asks to clarify. "It's going to be touch and go. She's extremely weak right now and the next couple of days are going to be critical to her recovery. If she can pull through these next few days, I believe she'll make a full recovery. Though it'll take a lot of rehab to adjust to the changes to her body." Cho confirms.
I let out a small sob, knowing that she can pull through this. I have to believe that she will make it through these next few days, and we can be there to support her through her recovery. "Will she be able to return to full field duties?" Steve asks, clearly agitating Wanda. "Really Steve. That's what you're concerned about right now?" She snaps.
He turns to look at us and I know exactly why he's asking. "The SHIELD programme is everything to Y/n. To lose it after only just achieving it, that will crush her." Steve defends. "I think she would rather be alive right now." Wanda snaps back. "You just don't want to face that the honest truth is that without this programme, Y/n will feel like she has nothing, and I hate to say it, but she won't be too happy about being alive." Steve shares, an angry, yet sad look on his face.
Wanda goes to argue back, a look of hurt washing over her face. But I hold my hand up to stop her. "He's right my love." I interrupt her, making her snap her head to me. "SHIELD was the only family she thought that she had after she believed that she didn't belong in this family anymore. It will break her if she can't carry on what she worked so hard to achieve." I admit sadly.
I lock eyes with Wanda, and I see her heartbreak even further, if that's possible. "It'll take time and a lot of hard work, but I believe that Y/n would be able to return to full duties within SHIELD." Cho chips in, reminding us all that she was still in the room. "But first, she needs to get through the next few days." She reiterates, making all of us nod.
"Can we see her?" I ask, desperate to be with her and to hold her hand. "Of course. I'll be in my office, but the nursing staff will monitor her hourly." She smiles at us and leaves us to it. I take Wanda's hand and lead her towards the door and slowly push the door open. I let out a gasp when I see my little girl led in bed. She has a tube down her throat and wires attached to so many machines.
I've seen many people in this situation. But when it's your own daughter, there aren't words to describe the pain you feel. How helpless you are to make them better. All you can do is sit and watch as you wait for fate to take its course. Praying that you get your daughter back.
I instantly move to take a seat next to her bed, taking her hand in mine and holding it tightly. I notice the bruising to her knuckles, showing she fought. It brings a small smile of pride to my face.
Wanda goes to the opposite side of the bed and gently places her hand on Y/n's head. "I'm so sorry moya Lyubov." She whispers, leaning in to press a kiss to her forehead. "We promise we're going to make things right. We are so sorry that you ever felt like you didn't belong in this family. You'll never doubt this again!" I make promise to her now, one that I will repeat when she wakes up. Because she will wake up.
Part 2
985 notes · View notes
laughing-with-god · 6 months
Text
Unsaid Vow I
(This is the first 1.7k of the 10k chapter that is available right now on my Patreon. Please join for early access plus beta content!)
Synopsis: You always knew when you weren't wanted. And the way things are going in your marriage with Jungkook, a divorce is looking more and more likely. While he's getting closer to a woman at work that you're certain he's having an affair with, you're planning your escape with your four-year-old son. However, five years of marriage did not expose you to a certain side of your husband. A side of Jungkook that only gets triggered when you try to leave and break apart your perfect 'family'.
Warnings: Yandere behavior, graphic language, violence/murder, women bashing on other women, heavily implied infidelity, bad parenting, absent father, broken family vibes, very slow buildup bc Jungkook doesn't really snap until you leave him so just give him a min lol, inexperienced author writing for a five-year-old.
Also looking for new fic art for this if anyone's interested!!
Read first: Prologue
Tumblr media
“I’m a grown man.”
These were the words that greeted you and effectively pulled you out of your weary slumber.  
You drowsily rubbed your eyes and rolled over, yawning as you took in the sight of your son staring at you bemusedly from beside your bed.  
If you weren’t used to this behavior from Hugo already, you perhaps would've screamed at the sudden creepy sight of a child with a solemn expression saying odd things to you before the sun has even risen.  Yet, you have grown accustomed to the old man your toddler was.  
“Good morning to you too, bud.”  You groaned tiredly, already searching your thick bedding for your phone in order to check the time.  Your alarm hadn’t even gone off yet, which told you it was earlier than you had originally planned to wake up.  But what was the point of having plans when you had a child?  They had a talent for ruining them.  
“I’m five today.”  Hugo ignored your greeting, getting right into the point with furrowed brows as he held up all five fingers, each one representing a year of his life.  
“Yup, I know dumpling.”  You chuckled, finally pulling out your phone and opening it to see  ‘6:03 am” staring back at you.  “Believe it or not, the day you were born was quite memorable for me too.”  
You cringed as you thought of the 20 hour labor that preceded Hugo’s birth.   How could you ever forget that hellish day?  
“Mom, it’s my birthday.”  Hugo told you, tone serious as a heart attack.  
“Yes, happy birthday love.”  You smiled at your son, trying not to let him see the exhaustion you secretly felt.  “I suppose there’s no way I can talk you into going back to bed for another hour or so?”  
“No. You always say ‘the day starts when I first open my eyes in the morning”.  Your son parroted the saying back to you with a proud grin.  
Hugo once went through a phase where he wouldn’t want to leave the bed after waking up, simply wanting to stay in pj’s all day long and watch cartoons amongst his stuffies. 
It took a while to get your little homebody to actually stop this habit and begin getting up to ready himself for the day whenever he woke up.  You used to tell him that the day starts whenever he opens his eyes in the morning, however on days like these where he wakes up super early, he now does not see the point in lying in.  
“Right, that is a good point.”  You softly relented, mentally scolding yourself for yet another parenting tactic backfired.  “How does some breakfast sound?”
“Mom, I have a prop-pre-preposaa-”  
“Proposal?”  You offered, swinging your legs off the side of your bed.  
“Yeah, that.”  Hugo nodded to himself, most likely taking note of the proper pronunciation of the word so he can use it again in conversation.  “I think it’s time we talk about coffee.”
“Coffee?”  
“You and daddy are always saying that coffee is for grownups.  Today I’m five, which means I’m older, which means I should be able to have coffee.”  Hugo reasoned this to you while twiddling his thumbs, a nervous habit he does when he wants you to say yes to something he knows is unrealistic.  
“Mmm...”  You hummed, pretending to think hard about the offer.  “What if I gave you a very light coffee?  A beginner version to get you ready for the real thing when you’re older?”  
Hugo looked conflicted, but after reading your face and correctly assuming that’s the best he was going to get, he nodded solemnly in reluctant agreement.  
With one final huff you shoved yourself off the king sized bed, standing to your full height and throwing your arms up in a stretch.  “Why don’t you wait in the living room for me bud?  I’ll be right out.”  
The freshly turned five year old happily nodded up at you before exiting your bedroom, leaving you alone once again.  
You turned your attention back to the bed in which you just rose out of.  More particularly, you stared at the other side of the bed, the side in which your husband was supposed to sleep on. 
It was a direct opposite of your messy side, crisp and neatly made; the fluffy pillows, pressed sheets and silk duvet being perfectly in place.  Yet, this wasn’t an ode to Jungkook’s neatness and attention to detail.  
No.  
Jungkook hasn’t been sleeping in the same bed as you for a while now.  
Your husband always preferred to rise early, given he was a man who liked to follow a strict morning regime which could easily be thrown off if he slept in even a minute later.  Up at 5:30. teeth brushed and face shaved by 5:40.  Breakfast, coffee and newspaper consumed by 6:00.  
Then right before taking his leave, Jungkook would pack himself a bag of work clothes and make a quick protein shake, given he would then head to the gym where he would get his morning workout and shower from.  Then from the gym, he would head straight to work.  
A few months ago, he suggested sleeping in the guest room.
You had asked why, bewildered at the request.  
Sure, you two didn’t really cuddle anymore. Sex was also rare. But you figured that the least you could do as husband and wife was sleep in the same bed amicably. Had you started kicking him in your sleep or something?
“I’d notice you begin to kinda stir when I first get up and go about my routine.  I don’t want to wake you up or be a bother.”  He had said.  
That didn’t really make sense to you.  
You have always been a deep sleeper. And even if you did wake up for a second, you’d clearly see your husband getting ready for the day, roll over and go back to sleep.  
It was such a lame excuse, you just shrugged and bitterly told him that he hogged the blankets anyway.  
It wasn’t true, but Jungkook didn’t comment.  
You trudged over to the ensuite bathroom and quickly did your morning routine.  
When you came out of your room and into the living space, you saw Hugo glued to the giant flat screen in a trance-like state as he watched his usual morning cartoons.  The sight tugged a small smile out of you, although the mother in you didn’t like how close he was.
“Hugo, back up from the screen! Bluey isn’t going anywhere. Your eyes will go bad.”  Your son wordlessly obliged and scooted back, not breaking eye contact with his favorite family of puppies.  “What would you like for breakfast ‘Mr. grown man’?”  
“Blueberry pancakes…and don’t forget my coffee!”  
“You got it, birthday boy.” 
The kitchen, dining and living room were open concept, so you multi-tasked watching Hugo while whipping up his breakfast.  You never were much of a cook and you still aren’t even after motherhood, but you did commit to learning your son’s favorite dishes.
The process was over quickly, you having made this recipe countless times and knowing it like the back of your hand.  
You set a plate on the island table, calling Hugo over while you secretly mixed some instant hot chocolate in a mug.  
The five year old jumped up and grinned at the meal, saying a quick “thank you” before digging in with all the grace a five year old could possibly have.  
“And of course, your coffee.”  You tried not to smile as you handed him the cup.
“Thanks mama.”  
The mini-Jungkook took a gulp, then stared seriously at the contents of the mug, swishing it around in some faux detective work.  
“Something wrong, dumpling?”
“It tastes…fa-fam-”
“Familiar?”  
“Yes. Is coffee always this sweet?”  
You laughed, now moving to the real coffee maker to make your own cup.  “No, this is the kid version.  It might taste like chocolate because chocolate has caffeine in it too.”  
Your little old man huffed to himself but nodded in agreement, simply not knowing enough to dispute your logic.  
Your old coffeemaker grumbled awake, croaking and hissing as you pressed the worn-out buttons for your usual morning brew.  Jungkook always made fun of you for the ancient machine, but even after he had bought a much more expensive and up-to-date one, you stubbornly remained loyal to yours.  
“So buddy, what do you want to do today?  We can go get new books, hit up the toy store, maybe even visit the aquarium?”  
“I wanna help set up for my party, mommy.” 
Well, “party” wasn’t quite the right word for it.  
Hugo had no friends.  It was tough for a kid like him to make any.  At this age and as a boy, most of his peers would meet and form relationships in little league or rough housing at the local park. 
Your son was different.  He preferred reading to sports, hated the outdoors and was generally a shy kid who tended to tear up when anyone other than his family tried speaking to him.  
So this year, his birthday party was an intimate circle of family and family friends.  You hoped that by next year you could host an actual kid birthday party, as Hugo would be in school and have classmates by then. 
“That’s very sweet of you, but there’s time to do both.”  The boy looked at you skeptically.  “We can go to the bookstore across the street after breakfast and I’ll let you pick out some new bedtime stories.  Then we can go to the aquarium and have lunch there. And on our way home I’ll stop by the store to get some stuff for the party, and you can get a toy.  Sounds good?”  
Hugo frowned, then peeled back his pajama sleeve to look at his submarine-themed watch.  The act seemed a little pretentious to you, given he didn’t yet know how to read clocks.  
“Fine mommy, but we should be quick.  Also you need to ask our guests if they have any food aler-alergeez-”
“Allergies?  Yes bud, I’ll be sure to send them a text.”  You rolled your eyes.
With that, Hugo quietly finished his breakfast as you sipped your coffee.  
When you two were done, you both got dressed and ready for the day’s activities. 
Before leaving the apartment, you were sure to send a text to your husband.  
‘Be home by 6 please.  Hugo’s birthday party starts at 6:30 and he needs you there.’
1K notes · View notes
joeys-babe · 5 months
Text
Joey B Blurbs: Say You Love Me
Tumblr media
————————————————————————-
summary: you prank Joe by not saying “I love you” back after seeing another couple do it on TikTok.
warnings: fluff, unserious/funny, pranks, illusions to smut at the end.
pairing: joe burrow x reader
Imagine universe: Into The Mystic
————————————————————————-
*no particular date for this blurb!*
(y/n’s pov)
It was a quiet afternoon in the Burrow home, which lately seemed to be a very rare occasion. Joe was upstairs getting ready to go over to Sam Hubbard’s house since a few of the guys were getting together over there. Mostly captains and a couple of other players.
The twins currently sat next to me on the couch while they babbled back and forth with the cartoons playing on the TV.
When I found out I was pregnant, Joe and I had set very strict guidelines for our future kids. Cartoons and tech limit being a huge one we both agreed on.
Well, that was before we became parents. We quickly realized that having two toddler boys at the same time meant using anything to calm them, distract them, keep them content, etc. The list could honestly go on forever.
Now that Joe was going to be leaving soon, I planned to keep them occupied with the TV til they eventually had to take a nap.
As I noticed Miles starting to get tired, Joe came bounding down the stairs loudly making an introduction as usual.
“Hey baby, I'm going to Sam’s now. I'm gonna make sure to get home before dinnertime so I can grill steak tonight.” - Joe
“Mmm. Sounds good.” - you
He made his way over to the couch and bent down to be at eye level with me.
“I've been craving a good steak for a bit so I'm def looking forward to it.” - Joe chuckled
“Okay, babe. Have fun.” - you
Joe leaned forward to give me a quick kiss before pulling away and standing up with a smile.
“Bye, mama. I love you.” - Joe
Let the prank begin.
In all honesty, as fun as this prank was going to be just to see how he'd react it was also kinda sad. Joe has always made it apparent to verbally profess his love for me, and not matching his statement would certainly be something he'd dwell on.
When we first started dating back in high school, Joe made it known to me that the statement “I Love You.” was not something he just threw around. To him, it was a more intimate thing and he'd only tell it to someone if he truly meant it.
I was lucky enough to be one of the people on the receiving end of those three special words leaving Joe’s lips.
But for right now, he wasn't getting the return of those special words.
“Bye Joe.” - you
I tried to study his expression when he realized the fact I didn't say it back but for a second it didn't seem like he had. When he did though, it was very obvious. Maybe she didn't hear me? Joe thought.
Joe leaned down and kissed me once again, this time a lot longer than the first.
“I love you.” - Joe
“Have fun at Sam’s!” - you smiled
The look he gave me wasn't a reflection of hurt but more of confusion and worry.
“You okay?” - Joe
“Yeah, why? I'm great!” - you
He stood there for a second trying to take in my body language, but there wasn't a noticeable difference to him.
“Okay, just checking.” - Joe
Leaning down once again, Joe pressed a very thorough kiss on my lips. My hand rested on his cheek and my thumb rubbed under one of his eyes as we kissed. After, our foreheads stayed touching, and Joe just smiled at me.
“Bye, I love you.” - Joe
“Bye, baby. Tell the boys I say hi!” - you
Joe abruptly stood up after that. They way you kissed him wasn't matching your lack of sentiment.
“y/n? Did I do something?” - Joe
“No. Joe are you okay?” - you
He scoffed before collecting his thoughts and speaking.
“Well I was but i’m kinda confused now.” - Joe
“About what?” - you
I watched Joe cock his head to the side as he narrowed his eyes at me, he was completely and utterly lost.
You were acting completely normal, and happy; kissing him and calling him baby, but you wouldn't say I love you back?
“Do you not want me to go?” - Joe
“What no? Do you want me to not want you to go?” - you
“I mean I wasn't going for that, but I feel like I should stay now.” - Joe
“Why?” - you chuckled
Joe crossed his arms across his built chest, making his muscles bulge, and huffed out a loud breath.
“Are you mad that I was gonna go hang out with the guys today? If you didn't want me to go you could've told me.” - Joe
“You know I don't care if you hang out with your teammates if anything I encourage it. Why are you acting like this?” - you
“What do you mean me?? y/n, what the hell is happening?” - Joe
“I don't even know what you're referring to.” - you
He dropped his arms and ran a hand through his soft curls while heaving a sigh.
“Okay nevermind, whatever. I'm going now. I love you.” - Joe
Joe watched me intently and very closely to see what my next move was.
“Have fun, Joe. I'll be here with the boys waiting for your return.” - you
His expression and body language stayed the same but the words that left his mouth next said the opposite.
“Do you not love me anymore?” - Joe
My mouth dropped open and my eyes widened at his question, have I gone too far?
“What?! Where did that even come from? That's a stupid question and you know it.” - you
“Yeah, sorry.” - Joe looked down at his feet
There were a few seconds of silence before Joe looked back to me.
“I’m gonna go now, or else I'll be late.” - Joe
“Okay, c’mere give me a kiss.” - you
Bending down once again, Joe pressed little pecks on my lips over and over again before pulling away.
“Love you.” - Joe smiled
“Thanks.” - you
“y/n… I’m your husband. Why won't you say it back?” - Joe
“Say what back?” - you
“Don't play dumb. Every time I say I love you, you completely dodge it. What’s that about? If I did something tell me. Please.” - Joe
“Dont know what you're talking about.” - you
Joe’s jaw clenched up and he looked at his two boys who were by now watching him and I instead of their show.
“Hey guys can you go upstairs so Mommy and Daddy can talk?” - Joe
Oh shit.
The boys nodded and eventually went upstairs to their room. Once Joe saw their little frames disappear he turned back to me, his nostrils were flared and he looked mad.
“y/n, what the fuck did I do? It's not our anniversary, you're not on your period, we were literally cuddling an hour ago, and you are kissing me like nothing is up. Why won't you say you love me? It's fucking me up like hell, y/n.” - Joe
I stood up abruptly and wrapped my arms around him, pressing my face into his neck.
“If this is a joke- I swear to literal God.” - Joe
“I'm so sorry Joe. It was just a little prank but I took it way too far, please don't be mad at me. I seriously didn't intend to get you this worked up. I didn't know it'd mess with you like that.” - you
He stayed silent and I moved my head to his chest, his heart was beating unhealthy fast.
“Joe? Baby, are you okay? Your heart is beating really really fast.” - you
I looked up at him as I rubbed his back with one hand, the other rubbed over his heart. Joe was looking straight ahead at the wall, trying to not acknowledge me.
“Say it.” - Joe
“Say wha-” - you
“Say it.” - Joe looked at you
I moved my hands to cup his cheeks and placed a huge kiss on his lips.
“I love you. I love you so much, Joe. I love you more than anything.” - you
“Thanks.” - Joe smirked
“You ass!” - you shoved him as he laughed
We eventually stopped laughing and pulled each other into a hug.
“I love you.” - you
“I love you too.” - Joe smiled and kissed you
Joe and I kept kissing as our hands started to roam over each other’s bodies. Though I protested, Joe pulled away eventually and pulled his phone out of his pocket.
“What are you doing?” - you
“Texting Sam and saying something came up last minute.” - Joe
I smiled and came up with a quick response.
“Oh, something def came up.” - you held eye contact with Joe before flicking your gaze down to his crotch
“Now you're in trouble.” - Joe
He tossed his phone onto the couch and picked me up bridal-style, running to the stairs as we both giggled.
I really loved Joe with my whole heart.
871 notes · View notes
Note
Hii please can you do something fluff like dad! Lando or daniel i don't really have anything in my mind just do it as you like please.
Where’s Mama? - Daniel Ricciardo
Short but i actually thought this was super cute
Tumblr media
“Da, where’s mama?” Reggie asks looking up at his dad with those same honey coloured eyes that Y/n always says she’s so happy their child inherited.
“Mama is here somewhere. Is she…hiding again?” Daniel smiles knowing that y/n will often start games of hide and seek with Reggie and Reggie always needs a bit of help because the woman doesn’t go easy on him.
A competitive spirit is inherited from both parents but Reggie will also ask for help without shame which neither of them are mad about since he’s only 2.
Daniel picks Reggie up and places him up on his shoulders to carry him around the house. It doesn’t actually take them long to find her at all.
Y/n is soundly asleep curled up on her and Daniel’s bed. Presumably there wasn’t a game along hide and seek but actually Reggie woke up from his own nap and went looking for her but instead found his dad back from training.
“Mama is asleep. I think we should go out to the park and then we can come back and see her later.” Daniel states knowing that y/n is home alone with Reggie when they aren’t travelling to be there with Daniel at races.
When he’s home he tries to make sure he’s actively being a parent and taking duties off of y/n’s shoulders for a bit. He credits her entirely for them having such a perfect child, though he likes to say the laugh comes from him. Reggie and Daniel have an identical laugh.
The two leave y/n to rest. Though both manage to kiss her without waking her before they leave.
-
Despite managing to keep Reggie busy for maybe half an hour. Daniel ended up caving into going back home because the kid wants his mum. But Daniel can’t even be mad because actually he wants to see y/n too.
So they head back and find she’s still very much in the depth of sleep.
“Do you want to nap with mama?” Daniel asks as he holds Reggie in his arms. There’s a chance the toddler will say no.
“Yeah. Da nap too.” Reggie commands finally making Daniel feel a little wanted.
The two of them climb on the bed, Daniel placing Reggie between himself and y/n’s bodies as he finally sees her shifting and stirring from her sleep.
“What’s-“
“Shhh…Family nap time. Just go back to sleep.” Daniel soothes while she frowns for a moment before realising Reggie is already laid between them, his big brown eyes gazing at her accompanied by a toothy grin.
“Sleep mama. Nap time.” Reggie whispers moving to hug the woman before rolling so his back is pressed to her front. “Da, closer.”
So that’s how they end up all cuddled up. Sleeping all in a midday nap.
Eventually y/n and Daniel get up before Reggie is awake and since they know the kid sleeps like it’s a hobby, they don’t care about it possibly disturbing his sleep through the night.
“Mmm finally get you to myself.” Daniel grins as they walk into the kitchen.
“You had me to yourself last night…and this morning and I think both of those occasions are why i’m so tired.” Y/n laughs before squeaking when he picks her up and lands her on the counter.
“You said you wanted another baby.”
“I do. I mean we are doing an amazing job with the first. Plus I hear the second is always a little more rogue.”
“Are you sure you can handle that?” Daniel asks, slightly more softly since Y/n is left with Reggie more than he likes to admit.
“You are parent to him more than you give yourself credit. I’m not here living like a single mum to Reggie and I don’t believe you’d change that by having a second baby.” Y/n smiles as she gently cups Daniel’s face. “We can hold off if you’d rather wait. I’m just happy that we’ve started our little family.”
“Reggie might get jealous.”
“Reggie? You mean you’d have to deal with me not dividing up time and attention between only you and Reggie but another person…you know it goes both ways. I miss your attention sometimes too. I already had to compete with F1, and now our adorable son is more successful at getting your attention that I am.”
“Oh so sounds like I’ve got improvements to make.” Daniel comments leaning in to kiss her. “Well you have all my attention right now. Plus i was thinking, my parents love having Reggie. Maybe a grandparents weekend would be a nice getaway for Reg and then we get every ounce of each others time and attention. No disturbances.”
“That. Is a brilliant idea. Let’s do it.” Y/n nods kissing him again. “I hope Reggie inherits yours brains as well as your eye colour.”
“So long as he keeps everything else from you. Or maybe the next one will be a little y/n carbon copy. Even if i’m not sure this family could handle two of you.”
“I mean I am pretty amazing.”
1K notes · View notes
chrisevansonly · 5 months
Text
𝐂𝐡𝐚𝐩𝐭𝐞𝐫 𝐓𝐡𝐫𝐞𝐞: 𝐔𝐧𝐜𝐥𝐞 𝐌𝐚𝐱’𝐬 𝐈𝐧𝐟𝐥𝐮𝐞𝐧𝐜𝐞
Tumblr media Tumblr media Tumblr media
𝐜𝐡𝐚𝐫𝐥𝐞𝐬 𝐥𝐞𝐜𝐥𝐞𝐫𝐜 𝐱 𝐟𝐞𝐦𝐚𝐥𝐞 𝐫𝐞𝐚��𝐞𝐫 (𝐟𝐭 𝐦𝐚𝐱 𝐯𝐞𝐫��𝐭𝐚𝐩𝐩𝐞𝐧 𝐱 𝐟𝐞𝐦𝐚𝐥𝐞 𝐫𝐞𝐚𝐝𝐞𝐫)
𝐬𝐲𝐧𝐨𝐩𝐬𝐢𝐬: the only person matteo loves more than you and charles is his uncle max, and his uncle max might have just given your husband an idea you weren’t so ready to talk about…
𝐰𝐚𝐫𝐧𝐢𝐧𝐠𝐬: mentions or anxiety, slight arguments, bit of angst, but also lots of fluff and cute uncle max moments!
𝐚/𝐧: here is chapter 3!! this is the beginning of matteo’s karting journey! i place him to be around 2 here, still too young but this is where it all starts thanks to uncle max and charles! this one isn’t super angsty yet but as we keep going some chapters are gonna get interesting 👀
𝐰𝐜: 1.3k+
🏎️🏎️🏎️🏎️🏎️🏎️🏎️🏎️🏎️🏎️🏎️🏎️🏎️🏎️🏎️🏎️🏎️🏎️🏎️🏎️
At the age of two Matteo was already quite the quiet little boy, his preschool teachers always attempted to get him to come out of his shell and interact, but he didn’t really love the idea. At home with you and Charles he was the complete opposite, chatting, laughing, and wanting to play games all day long. You were worried but his paediatrician was sure to quell any worries, simply stating he would grow out of it and he was just a bit more anxious than most kids. 
“Maman play?”
Came his little voice from the living room, he sat around a tower of building blocks and toys cars
“Sure my love, I can come play, papa will be home soon too”
“Papa!!”
You laughed at the toddler’s squeal of excitement, knowing his father was coming home soon and he would have both his parents to play with him. 
“Papa jouer?”
You smiled leaning down to kiss his forehead, a hand smoothing his unruly chocolate brown hair away from his eyes 
“Ou, petit ours, papa jouera”
Matteo giggles before pushing a few toy cars your way, letting you roll them back towards him as he smiled and clapped, truthfully as much as he adored Charles, Matteo was a mommas boy deep down. 
It wasn’t too long after you’d begun to play that you could hear the tell-tale sound of Charles’s Ferrari pulling into the driveway, what you weren’t expecting were two voices instead of one. Matteo got up and went over to the front window, a noise of what you could describe as pure happiness spilling from his lips. 
“Papa! Maxie!”
He turned to smile at you excitedly, a sight that never got old to you at all. You joined him in the window, smiling at your husband and Max Verstappenm aka Uncle Maxie, as they both walked to the door. As soon as it opened Matteo took off in a run towards his father. 
“Matteo ralentit, s’il te plait, bébé, fais attention!” 
His giggles only got louder until he managed to fall to his knees before getting to Charles, both of you waiting for him to whimper or cry from hitting the floor but he only sat back on his butt, frowing up at Charles. 
“Oh, ç ava petit ours?”
“Ouch”
Charles smiled before bending down to pick his baby boy up, kissing his cheek 
“Yeah, ouch Teo…we need to listen to Maman when she says careful right?”
Matteo nodded, his eyes glossing over a little bit, as Max excused himself to come over and say hello to you, pulling you in for a hug and kissing your cheek 
“Hey Max, how are you?”
He smiled 
“Not bad...though not sure you’ll like me in a few minutes”
“What why?”
Charles cleared his throat, shaking his head 
“Nothing amour, don’t worry about it”
“Charles.”
He watched you cross your arms, eyebrow raising just enough letting him know he was treading on thin ice if he continued, only making the dutchman at your side laugh 
“Matteo, want to come with me and see something special?”
Max asked, causing the little Leclerc to turn his gaze to him before he began to nod enthusiastically
“Present?”
Max smiled taking Matteo from Charles 
“Yes, present little bear”
As the two of them disappeared out the front door you looked at your husband, the good mood you were in beginning to dwindle knowing the two F1 drivers had gotten themselves into something, no doubt, not checking with you first.
“Mon amour…”
“Qu’est-ce que tu me caches Charles? Ne mens pas, je ne suis pas d’humeur.”
It was nothing new for you to speak in French, but Charles knew if it came out when you were a little irritated, he had minutes to fix the problem 
“Rien, je vous promets que ce n’est rien de grave ma belle…venez voir.”
You hummed, not impressed at all, and it wasn’t like you were mad at him, because you weren’t. It’s just that there had been talks of karting and knowing Max you had an inkling of what this surprise was. 
“Charles-”
He was quick to take your hands, pulling you to him so he could press a kiss to your lips, his eyes remaining soft 
“Just please, come outside…then be as mad at me as you want”
Sighing softly you agreed, following your husband outside as he held onto your hand tightly, not wanting you to let go, Charles knew there was a huge chance you’d be upset over this but, here’s to hoping it wouldn’t be too bad. As you approached the garage you eyes widened seeing Matteo sitting in his own little go kart, Max cheering as he made fake karting noises, obviously it wasn’t on, for safety reasons of course. Matteo was smiling away, giggling as Max pushed him around a little bit, Charles glancing at you to see just how you felt about this.
“Maman! Kart Maman!”
You nodded walking over and crouching down to look at your little boy, and you would be lying if you said the happiness in his little green eyes didn’t make your heart soar 
“Yes my love, did Uncle Max and your Papa get you a kart?”
He squealed happily, placing his hands on the wheel as you straightened up, looking over at Max 
“So who’s idea was this?”
Both men remained quiet which only made you roll your eyes 
“Someone want to tell me or do I need to play a game of clue?”
“Well you see…it was both of us”
You looked to your husband who had a sheepish smile on his face, nervousness behind his eyes
“Max and I were just attending a meeting and we saw it and well the rest is history, I just thought it would be cute for Matteo to have you know…nothing more”
“Nothing more? Charles he’s going to be wicked on the track with this thing!”
Max was smiling until he noticed your attention become focused on him, then it was his turn to feel nervous, bringing a hand up to rub at his neck 
“When he goes on the track? That’s funny because last time I checked we weren’t talking about Matteo and karting, it wasn’t even up for discussion yet.” 
Charles sighed as he watched you take Matteo out of the kart, holding him to your chest as you placed a kiss to his cheek, staring at the red and gold paint like it would bite you if you got too close to it.
“Max is just teasing baby I promise, I just wanted to get it so he can sit in it and just be around them, it wasn’t to make you upset” 
“I appreciate that, but I thought we said we’d talk about it before you decided to even purchase a kart, Charles he’s two, i’m not even ready to discuss this with you yet…”
You paused walking a little ways from the two drivers before stopping 
“Max I really appreciate what you did with Charles, but next time, speak to me first, Charles you should know better.”
They watched as you walked back towards the house, Matteo frowning and he noticed the distressed look on your face. 
“Maman sad?” he asked softly. 
“No Matteo, Maman isn’t sad, let’s go play inside hmm?”
“Play play!”
Charles watched the two of you disappear into the house before running his hands over his face, clearly not expecting you to be this upset by it, but deep down he knew better, and he should have talked to you about it. He and Max put the kart away before saying goodbye to one another, not before Max went to apologize to you. 
As Max’s Audi pulled away from your family home Charles only hoped he hadn’t overstepped too much, Matteo was still young, he knew that but there was also the hope that he could introduce his little one to the world of racing. Knowing how happy Charles was as a kid to kart and grow up around race cars, he only wanted to share that with his son.
He just hoped he hadn’t messed that dream up by upsetting you. 
ʚlittle karter series tag list
@goldenmclaren @a1leexxa @piastricodedfr @treehouse-mouse @therealcap @goldenalbon @wintfleur
english translations:
Papa jouer? - Papa play?
Ou, petit ours, papa jouera - Yes little bear, papa will play
Matteo ralentit, s’il te plait, bébé, fais attention! - Matteo slow down please, baby be careful!
Oh, ç ava petit ours? - Oh, are you okay little bear?
Mon amour - My love
Qu’est-ce que tu me caches Charles? Ne mens pas, je ne suis pas d’humeur. - What are you hiding from me Charles? Don’t lie to me, i’m not in the mood
Rien, je vous promets que ce n’est rien de grave ma belle…venez voir. - Nothing, I promise that it’s nothing serious beautiful, come see
776 notes · View notes
Note
AITA for letting my dog correct (nip) my niece to prove a point and refusing to punish him?
I own an ex-K9 called Biggles. Biggles is impeccably trained, a total gentleman when you're not being an asshole to him, but also has no time for your bullshit. He'll tolerate a lot more hassle from the younger kids in our family, but if they're allowed to persist in bullying him, he will correct them, just like he would the adults of the family.
Mostly Biggles will just push them over and walk away. Its his way of saying to leave him alone. Sometimes he'll bark loudly, a kind of 'fuck off now' bark. At the very extreme, he'll give them a tiny little warning nip on the arm or hand.
(Biggles has only ever nip corrected kids twice in all the years I've had him. Once when my cousin thought it was 'cute' to dump her toddler right on top of Biggles and let him rip at his fur and try to bite at his face, and once when my nephew was having a tantrum, Biggles tried to snuggle up to him to soothe him and my nephew hit him in the face.)
I firmly believe in learning how your pet communicates and respecting their reasonable boundaries. To me, if you're yanking on a dog's tail and ignoring everyone warning you to stop and you get a nip to the back of the hand for it, that's a valid consequence of your actions and you've just learned to respect the dog enough not to try pulling its tail out of its spine.
(This likely seems unfathomable to a lot of you, but I must clarify that Biggles isn't some hyper-reactive aggressive, dangerous dog like my sister thinks. He will more than happily play around with the little ones, faux wrestle with them, let them paw all over him and fuss at him, ect. He loves children, they're his babies. He does not love being in pain, and if the person causing it will not respect him or me enough to listen to my warnings, I believe they earn it when he warns them too.)
Anyway. Like you might've guessed, yanking on his tail was what my niece was doing at the beer-and-barbeque this weekend. I told her not to. My parents told her not to. Even my sister half-assedly suggested 'maybe Biggles wants to play a different game.' Biggles got up and moved away from her twice and she followed him both times to 'keep playing.'
My entire family knows how Biggles works. I warned my sister Biggles wouldn't tolerate what was happening. My sister told me I shouldn't own such a dangerous, unpredictable dog and he should be put down if he can't handle some 'rough love from a kid.'
(This was not rough love. This was my niece literally ripping at his tail thinking his pain responses were funny.)
I didn't want to cause a scene or subject Biggles to further harassment so I decided just once I'd cave and take Biggles inside so he could get some peace and I could enjoy my burnt ends without my sister squealing in my ear about being cruel to her child by telling her off.
Unfortunately, Biggles' patience ran out before I could make my way over. My niece yanked at his tail again, hard enough that it actually jolted him on the grass, and Biggles whipped around and nipped at her hand. I got to see her hand afterward and there was just a little red mark, no blood or broken skin. He'd just pinched her a little.
My niece screamed bloody murder like he'd taken her hand off and my sister screamed bloody murder about my 'vicious animal.' It devolved into a massive family-wide argument against my sister because my entire family knows its just basic respect and kindness not to cause an animal pain deliberately, and that its my sister's fault for not listening to anyone when we all told her and my niece not to hurt Biggles.
My sister stormed off and has since been blowing up the entire family demanding that Biggles be put down. She's threatened to call the cops, animal control, you name it. None of us are worried about that. There wasn't even a proper mark left on her hand and Biggles will pass any behavioral test with flying colors, but my sister is giving everyone grief and is refusing to attend any family events if Biggles will be there.
My dad is firmly on my side, but my mom is imploring me to just fake apologise to get some peace back. When I recounted the story to my colleague this morning, he said she got what she earned, but also why would I bring Biggles to an event I knew a disrespectful little shit of a kid was at?
I don't feel like an asshole in terms of allowing my dog to establish his boundaries. In my and my family's opinion pets are their own entities and should be treated with belonging and respect when part of a family. Its also just common sense not to cause an animal pain for the fun of it.
However, I'm also very aware that getting nipped by a dog, especially at such a young age, can be catastrophic. My niece could be terrified of dogs for the rest of her life, and while I don't feel guilty she got corrected, I do feel somewhat guilty that I didn't intervene sooner and have possibly set her up for failure in the future. And I do feel like an asshole for letting it get to that point, but it did all happen pretty quickly.
All things considered I do love my niece, she's family, she just gets away with murder because my sister thinks being a little girl is an automatic pass to do whatever you want without consequence.
I've probably painted Biggles out in a real bad light here, but I can assure you that in general Biggles is the perfect family dog. He's loving, playful, he tries to share his kibble with everyone at dinner, he helped us teach my uncle's puppy tricks and how to behave and potty outside ect.
So I guess I'm really asking am I the asshole in this situation, as the one responsible for Biggles?
What are these acronyms?
351 notes · View notes
sl-ut · 4 months
Text
random college!abby hcs
more!college abby
warnings: mentions of sex, drinking, drugs, and nudity, cursing, mild hint homophobia
first things first: jerry is alive and abby is his pride and joy
i'm serious... her mom died when she was a toddler and jerry hasn't had a long-term relationship since, so he's the only parental figure that she has
he took every precaution while raising her to make sure she always had everything she could ever need while also making sure that she didn't end up being an entitled brat
otherwise, she is very close with both of her father's siblings (her aunt is the only maternal relationship she has and definitely relied on her for all of her personal issues as a teenager), has a good relationship with jerry's mother and step-father
her mother was an only child, but her parents always come over for thanksgiving and even christmas sometimes
she was very supportive of her father taking in yara and lev after she moved out. she knew he was suffering from a severe case of empty nest syndrome. she def makes them feel so welcome right away like those strangers became her siblings in a matter of minutes
i'll only say it once ppl: OLD MONEY
jk i'll say it again. the andersons are a long line of surgeons and doctors so obvi they're gonna be well off
like, not "fund a research facility to get my kid into college" rich, they're more "i casually have a summer home, a ski chalet, and a ridiculously nice house to live in year round" rich.
her only real relationship was in high school (trigger warning: it was owen)
our bby had a bad case of comphet as a teenager
like fr she had not even considered the fact that she might be gay until she was two knuckles deep in some sorority girl during a party in her freshman year
after that she sort of just accepted it, she had no concern of her dad bc obviously he would be so accepting and supportive, but a few of her relatives def had an issue with it right off the bat (old money, old values)
she's been friends with manny, nora, owen, and mel since middle school, and the only one whose view of her seemed to change was owen (and mel too ig bc she stopped seeing abby as such a threat)
he drunkenly questioned her about it once, saying something super gross and along the lines of "you didn't seem gay when we were together"
to which she responded by offering him two choices; he could sit down and shut up or she would knock him tf out
he's cooled it since then but everyone knows that he still has a big fat crush on her so he still wants to believe he has a chance (even tho he was literally already talking to mel before they broke up and announced they were together only a few days after)
she's pre-med, majoring in bio and minoring in something totally different like classical lit or history or something
she's gonna end up being an orthopedic surgeon but later on in her career i can see her turning to teaching at a university or something
like doctor!abby turned prof!abby???? omg
is very health conscious
she's a gym rat, this we already know
she also takes her diet very seriously as well, but always has a secret stash of junk for when she really needs it
also careful with her alcohol/drug intake
she drinks on occasion (birthday, christmas, new years, etc, etc) but usually not very much (will almost always be sober enough to be the sober driver if need be)
she refuses to do any drugs during lacrosse season. she's so strict with her diet during the season that she won't ingest anything other than quality, nutritious food. she also needs to submit a drug test a few times per season so she doesn't wanna risk it.
in the off season, she's more willing to have a puff or two at a party or take an edible before a movie night or something (i don't see her doing any drug other than weed)
she lived with manny during her freshman and sophomore years
they had a shitty little apartment a few minutes away from campus
it was the only one that manny could afford on a student budget, and he refused abby's offer to get a nicer apartment and let her pay a larger portion of the rent than he did
they still had fun either way
manny loved having another person he could talk about girls with (he was initially gonna move in with owen but then he got ditched for mel)
every sunday morning they would get takeout for breakfast so manny could recount his night with the girl that had snuck out only a few hours earlier
she was a little hesitant to join in and share her own stories, but she finally got more comfortable in talking to him about it (RESPECTFULLY!!!!!!! she was so scared that she was gonna end up sounding like a literally disgusting pig but she keeps the details to a minimum and only says nice things unless the girl was a major bitch)
she's a lululemon/gymshark girly. her go-to style is definitely any variation of athlesiure. she wears lots of joggers, dry-fit tops, and the cleanest pair of white sneakers you'll ever see
underneath, i'm picturing her as more of a bralette type of girl. obviously she wears a sports bra to the gym, but on a regular basis, she likes wearing bralettes over bras bc she doesn't need that much support so they offer just enough without the discomfort of a bra
i'm settling the debate rn everyone, college!abby wears boxers AND panties
she finds boxers more comfortable on a day to day basis, but she likes wearing cheekies and thongs especially when she's wearing leggings
so dorky
she was definitely a sci-fi/fantasy kid
she grew up on harry potter, lord of the rings, star wars, etc etc
would love a partner who would watch them with her and actually enjoy it
unironically makes gym thirst traps on tiktok
her followers always comment supportive things like: looking good!, major gainssss, muscle mommy come destroy this pu-
still wears the iconic braid, but usually only when she's on the field. she occasionally wears her hair down, but i hc that she still likes to wear her hair pulled back in a cute little braided ponytail or a messy low bun
when she's older SHE CUTS HER HAIR OMG OMG OMG like literally i'm purring rn
like ik you've all seen that edit of her with super short hair omg she's so hot
in her junior year she decided to live on her own
manny moved in with jordan, who had been begging him for a while since the rent was more than he could handle on his own, though manny's rent would actually be cheaper than it was in his apartment with abby
they still do their traditions tho, still having sunday breakfast, still going to the campus pub on fridays for trivia, still going to the gym together on wednesdays...
they're actually besties i love them
when she's on her period, she craves salty foods
is so frustratingly confident in her emotions
will always try to diffuse the situation and pissing the other person off with her calmness
takes really good care of her skin
her favourite drink is diet cranberry gingerale
she's a dog person, but she would definitely enjoy having a cat around too
adopts a rescue dog a few weeks after finishing her residency
uses old spice fiji body wash and deodorant (SHE SMELLS SO FUCKING GOOD) and a musky vanilla body spray
likes to feel and be clean, but isn't too fussed about her body hair so long as it looks tidy. she isn't anti shaving, and will probably make an effort to shave more regularly in the early stages of a relationship until she's more confident and comfortable around the person
NSFW
down-there hair? duh
like i said, she likes to keep things tidy so she'll trim and maybe shave her bikini line if she's feeling it but that's it. she's not fussed with body hair, whether it's her or her partner's
again, she'll make an effort to keep herself looking neat and tidy for the first bit of a relationship but after a few weeks she's not afraid to go full-bush when she doesn't wanna shave
she doesn't love penetration. fingers are one thing, but she has only had not-so-great experiences with sex that involved a penis-like object. she'd wanna be the one wearing the strap for the most part, but she'd be willing to try it again with the right person
slow and passionate sex >>>>>
considers herself to be very vanilla but she's actually kinda kinkyyyyy (she gets so embarrassed and blushy when anyone calls her out for it)
she prefers scissoring to using her strap (but she LOVES her strap)
she doesn't like to choke her partners, but she will reach her hand up and just hold their throat while they're fucking
she's always so sensitive
came in like thirty seconds during her first time with another girl
she's noiiiiisssyyyyyyyy
she usually starts out with just heavy panting breaths, then they turn into deep grunts, then she begins to whine from low in her throat, and finally she begins to gasp out words of praise or curses
she squirts teehee
like i said she's always so sensitive, so if she's any ways worked up when someone's going down on her they better watch out bc they're in the splash zone
her strap is purple and sparkly
abby anderson eats ass
her nipples are super sensitive too
not really nsfw but she really loves casual nudity with her partners, changing in front of each other, hopping in the shower together, using the bathroom with the other person in the room...
she's a boob girl. doesn't matter if they're big, small, saggy, or perky, she just wants to suck them
when she's on top, she likes to pull her partner's leg over her shoulder and will just start like trailing kisses along the length of their calf
she's a literal munch
will use it to her advantage too
tells her partner she'll go down on them if they finish their assignments
405 notes · View notes
axelsagewrites · 4 months
Note
Hello, dear reader. I'd like to make a wish for Rhaenyra's little sister, maybe a year or two. And she never liked Alicent, who after marrying the king tries (along with Otto) to demote her to bastard status (but Viserys loves his little girl too much to do this to her). Of course, things get even worse when Rhaenyra's sister gets engaged to Harwin...
Thank you for your attention, I like your stories 🫶🏻. Another thing, can I stop by more often? I wish I had more of my ideas adorned with your writing
Harwin Strong*Suitable Match
Pairing: Harwin x f!reader
Word count: 1320
Tumblr media
Warnings: Step parent hating step child, secret relationship, kind of implied smut
a/n: ahh thank u sm for being so sweet and ofc request as much or talk however much u want. sorry i didnt reply sooner i just didnt want to lose the request x
Masterlist Here
Tumblr media
A life of a princess was something to envy. Well so many had claimed however after the death of your mother life felt like an ever falling spiral. Your sister began to grow closer to Alicent after the death and while you were happy for her to have a friend Alicent had always been unkind to you.
It had started small with her asking Rhaenyra not to let you join in their games to her unpicking your needle work whenever you would wander off to stretch your legs. Soon you gave up on even trying to be nice to her. anytime she was invited to dinner was met with loud sighs from you.
“Why does she hate me?” you pouted one night as Rhaenyra upbraided your hair.
Your sister rolled her eyes as she began to brush your hair out, “She doesn’t hate you. she’s just not used to a little sister,”
“She’s mean,”
“Cmon she isn’t that bad?”
-
You didn’t want to say I told you so when Alicent was betrothed to your father but the look on your face said it for you. at least Rhaenyra was able to marry and move away. you were instead stuck living at court with your evil stepmother and her spawn. Well, the children were kind to you, but Alicent constantly used them to get under your skin.
She’d send toddler Aegon running over with pretend crown shouting that he was going to be king. Or she would have a 2-year-old Aemond claim he was your husband. She tried to make Helena spill wine on your dress one time, but the poor girl burst into tears and confessed to you instantly.
Instead Alicent settled on insisting that your chambers were given to Aegon. Something you managed to convince your father against from at first but soon you were moved to a wing of the castle usually just for guests. You would’ve complained about longer if you hadn’t realised your new chambers window overlooked the kings guard training ground.
From your window you’d pretend to be doing needle work while secretly watching break bones fling any man that challenged him like a rag doll. Eventually Harwin caught onto your staring and would send his own glimpses up between sparring. It was also handy that your chamber was only a short walk from the guards’ sleeping quarters and Harwin soon became a frequent private guest of yours.
-
“Ser Barros is coming to court next week,” your father told you over a family dinner, “and I heard his son is looking for a wife,” he said, shooting you a hopeful glance.
“I heard he’s a fine man father,” you said kindly knowing full well it didn’t matter. Somehow every match they tried to make for you was sabotaged. The tall dark Baratheon boy was ever so keen for weeks for your hand then one day disappeared like a ghost. The gorgeous Lannister man that would bring you fine jewels suddenly decided a dornish match was of more importance. Even the Tarly boy you had courted had inexplicitly decided to join the nights watch. Every time Alicent wore the same twisted smile.
The only ones she didn’t send running were the incredibly old and decrepit looking men from minor houses, but it wasn’t hard to convince your father they weren’t suitable matches. “Perhaps we should set up a luncheon to great the boy,” Alicent suggested making your father smile widely. She really had twisted him around her finger.
-
“I wish I could stay here all day,” you pouted as you lay your head on Harwin’s bare chest.
His chuckle vibrated through you as his arm wrapped tight around your waist, “Me too princess but I have my duties and you have yours,”
“I thought your duty was to serve me,” you sighed dramatically, pretending to try get away.
Harwin laughed, his arms moving to cage you against the bed as he moved to lay over you, “I think I serve you just fine princess,” he said, his lips moving to kiss along your jaw.
“Oh yeah?” you asked and Harwin hummed in response as his kisses grew lower.
-
As expected Borros’s son went running after only a week and now you were in another awkward family dinner however unluckily for you the children all had the cold so now you were sat in stoney silence with just your father and Alicent. “You should really think about your future dear,” she said with a fake sweet smile, “We worry for you,”
Instead of replying you grabbed your wine, drinking a hefty sip of it. Viserys sighed, “Alicent is right dear. You must marry. At this point we’re going to have to start considering marrying you to a tree!” he said, flinging himself back in his chair. “Honestly what even happened between you and the boy?”
-
The days that followed were awkward to say the least. Alicent walked around smug as all hell and your father continued to sulk. You decided enough was enough and when Alicent went out to the sept you decided to track your father down. Unsurprisingly you found him staring over a model of the city.
“Father?” you greeted, walking closer to the tired looking man, “May we talk?”
“Of course, sweet child,” he said, nodding for you to sit beside him before sighing, “You know I worry for you?”
“I do father, and I do appreciate it,” you lied but did your best to look sympathetic to your clueless father, “but I was thinking. Well. I found another match you see father,” you spoke, and his head perked up as he waited for you to finally spit it out, “He’s sweet and kind and his family is well respected. You even like his father, and I was just thinking- “
“Out with-it child,”
You took a breath before finally asking, “Have you considered Harwin Strong yet father?” Viserys sighed, his eyes turning away but you continued, “Think about it! I’d be able to be at court and help Helena with her studies. Plus, you have four more children so four more matches. You already have the Velaryon which secures the crownlands. Harwin and I would secure the Riverlands. Then after you betrothed Helena, Aegon, Aemond, and Daeron you will have six of the seven kingdoms on your side. Your reach will go far especially if our children do the same,”
“You want to dilute the blood of old Valyria?” he asked, sounding exhausted as he spoke.
“No father, only strengthen it,” you said, moving to hold his hand, “Besides there is no other Targaryen or Velaryon to wed unless uncle daemon is brought back from exile- “you said but your father raised his hand to hush you.
He paused for a moment before nodding, “I will think about it. but for now, leave me. I have a lot to consider,”
“Thank you, father,”
-
Apparently Alicent must have missed this chamber meeting because somehow the news came back finally in your favour. Harwin would be your husband. You were so happy when your father told you that you instantly hugged him before rushing to find Harwin however that night at dinner Alicent shot you many dirty looks.
Finally, you had undermined her. you’d won. Well, that’s how it felt at first, but her glares began to sink into your skin till it itched. As the dinner ended, she tapped her cup with her fork, “A toast to my dear sweet daughter,” she smiled at you making your father beam, “May she have a marriage like ours,” she said, holding his hand tightly but you felt your stomach flutter.
“Here, here,” your father said, standing to kiss your cheek.
Alicent did the same, her arms twisting round your back into a bony hug, “Do not forget yourself darling,” she whispered sweetly in your ear, “You don’t win that easily,”
Taglist: @clairacassidy @valeskafics @starkleila @jacesvelaryons
411 notes · View notes
peridotglimmer · 24 days
Text
Hi there,
My name is peridotglimmer, also known as Belle or SugarsweetRomantic around these parts. I'm a queer Deaf mum to a toddler living in the Netherlands, an avid fic reader and writer for many different fandoms, and as difficult as I find to say this:
I need help.
Over the last months, I've been coming to the realisation that my wife, who I've been with since I had just turned 17, is abusive. And I need to get myself and our son out as soon as possible, as safely as possible.
My wife has isolated me from everyone IRL, including my parents and friends, and controls every aspect of my life.
This entire situation has had an immense effect on my own mental health, which means I'm currently on disability income myself. That's just enough to pay for bills and groceries. She also controls what we spend money on, which means it's nearly impossible for me to set any money aside. I'm trying to save up as much as I can, but I'm not reaching the amount I need to get out anytime soon.
I have two major issues that I need to take care of:
I need a passport. I fear I'll need to flee when I break this whole cyst open, so to speak. I can take shelter with a friend in the UK, but Brexit means my European ID card isn't enough to enter the UK. A passport costs approximately 85 euros, and I'll also need to get photos taken for it. My wife tracks my location 24/7, but I have some opportunities to get to town hall and get it without her knowing. Getting to my friend would be cheapest by taking a train, then a plane, and then a bus. From that point, they will be able to help me out, and I will be able to support myself as well.
I do not have custody of our son. She's been saying I have to earn custody of him, but it's not looking like she'll ever grant me custody. I'll potentially have to take her to court for that, and I will. I refuse to give up on my son. He's the love of my life, and my motivation to create a better life for us both.
If any of you reading this is in the position to help out financially, I would be eternally grateful. The easiest way to do so, is via Ko-Fi, and thus, I'll link mine below. Please only help out if you can miss the money.
I'll be eternally grateful for any help I might receive. Reblogs are greatly appreciated, thank you in advance. I'm terrified, but determined. I have to get out.
Love, Belle
255 notes · View notes
castiwls · 2 months
Text
"sacrifice, that's what we do for the people we love"
being the middle child in the winchester family...
Tumblr media
I’d imagine you being like two years younger than Dean and two years older than Sam. So like literally the middle child
Your memories of your mum are fuzzy but you can recall a few things
When Mary died you were only two so you didn’t really understand what was going on for a while.
When you all first left Lawernce you spent most of that first night in a motel room crying because you wanted your mom and your bed. (Dean had to comfort you cause John left his two toddlers and baby alone in a motel #dadoftheyear)
When you were like ten your dad told you about what he had been doing for the past eight years. You were terrified but he made you promise not to tell Sam. He also made sure you knew that it was your job to keep Sam safe. 
Basically, you stopped being a child at ten.
You and your brothers were really close.
You and Dean basically trauma-bonded over hunting and also having wayyyy too much responsibility at a young age. 
Out of you and Dean, you were more emotionally available so Sam tended to tell you more.
As he got older he would talk to you about getting out and stuff. While your dad and Dean were very much into hunting you and Sam were more of on the sidelines. 
Sam got his love of reading from you. He’d always tell you about the books he was reading and what he was doing in class.
You’re the mediator for the family. It was always you who broke up fights. You were also able to calm your father down.
Mentioning in a passing comment that you didn’t want to hunt when you were like 15 and John flipped.
“If you don’t want to help kill the thing that killed your mom then you can get out.”
So you did. You left at 15 for 6 months.
In reality, you went to stay with Bobby but you never told your dad that.
Dean begged you to stay and would call every day. So would Sam.
Around this time Sam also started to want to leave. 
“I wanna come stay with you.” You sighed leaning against the wall. The phone rested between your ear and shoulder. “You can't Sam. Dad would flip your too young.” He let out a frustrated noise but let the topic go. (for now)
Dean would also call often and beg you to come home.
“Look he didn’t mean it, alright. It was just a heat of the moment thing.”
You did eventually come back. (Bobby wasn’t happy but let you go)
Your brothers were overjoyed and you actually got an apology from your dad (shocker.)
Things were ok for a few years and then Sam got a bit older and started talking about school. He’d only talk to you about it though. It wasn’t that Dean hated the idea but he didn't understand.
One day when you were 18 and he was 16 Sam asked to talk in private. So you took him to a dinner near the motel and he told you about Stanford.
“One of my teachers thinks it's possible.” He pushed the pamphlet towards you. “I just need a signature from an adult and I know Dad won't sign it.” You quietly looked over the pamphlet for a moment. A sense of pride washed over you as well as relief. This was his way out. “Of course, I’ll sign it.”
You both kept it quiet for the next year and when his acceptance letter came in you both kept it to yourselves but you were so proud
#proud parent moment.
Though eventually, Dean found the letter. 
“Did you know about this?” He asked holding up the letter. You felt your blood run cold as you grabbed the letter from him. “Yes. I did know.” You admitted. “It was me who signed the papers.” Your brother's eyes widened a look of betrayal crossed his face. “Why would you do that?” His voice began to rise as he spoke. “Because Sam deserves a future Dean.”
You two didn’t speak for a while after that. Dean got over it though.
When it came time for Sam to leave that's when all hell broke loose.
You’d never heard your dad yell so loud. He and Sam went back and forth for hours until your younger brother just walked out. You and Dean both followed him. After calming him down you went with him to the bus and said goodbye.
Dean was kinda non-plussed (inside he hated it and was worried sick). You were worried but happy that he was getting out.
When you and Dean went back to the motel John was furious. He blamed you (of course)
“This is your fault. You're the one who put all those ideas in his head and look what happened.”
Dean jumped in front of you and told him to back off. 
“Sam’s his own person you can’t blame her for this!”
After this, you and Dean get closer. John starts taking more hunts alone meaning that you and Dean spend a lot of time just driving around.
You would probably class this as the first time in your life you felt truly happy. Hunting with Dean was easier and there were fewer arguments.
Sam would call u often to update you. When he told you that he’d met a girl you were so happy for him. (it really seemed he got out)
But then your dad went missing and Dean insisted on getting Sam to help.
You were glad to have both your brothers back but at the same time felt insanely guilty as you watched Sam fall back into hunting.
274 notes · View notes