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arlana-likes-to-write · 1 year

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Second Chance - Chapter 5

Masterlist

Warning: mention of car accident, past surgery, cancer treatment, chemotherapy side effects, survivor guilt, bone marrow procedure, talk about death.

Relationships: Yelena x reader, Morgan x reader (platonic), Tony, Pepper, x reader (platonic), Wanda x reader (platonic)

Note: a lot of this chapter is based on my own personal experience with the disease. As I've learned chemotherapy effects everyone very differently. The type of chemo the reader is on is based on her type of cancer but the treatment plan may not be 100% accurate.

Word count: 4k

Morgan was pressed into your side as she scrolled through the many streaming services that were offered at the tower to pick a movie. After dinner, Morgan dragged you to her floor and sat you down to watch a movie. She claimed it was unfair that you didn’t play with her so you had to watch a movie together. It was cute and a movie night sounded perfect after the long day you had. There was something about the blonde Black Widow that kept her on your mind. It was a little nerve-racking. Ever since your diagnosis, you’ve sworn off relationships. It leads to more heartbreak in the end. “Wanna watch Moana?”

“We can watch whatever you want, buttercup,” she giggled and pressed play. It was a movie you’ve seen a lot. Hell, your lifelong dream was to live on a sailboat which you did until you got sick.

“Mind if we join?” Pepper asked as the opening song was over. Her daughter hushed her, not taking her eyes off the screen. You smiled, ruffled her head, and nodded at the CEO, who sat next to you on the couch. Tony slid next to Morgan, grabbing her legs and putting them on his lap.

Moaa was probably in your top 5 favorite animated movies but it was getting harder and harder to keep your eyes open to follow the plot. “Hey,” Pepper whispered. “Do you want to go to bed?” You shook your head, not wanting to get up or move Morgan off of you. But your eyelids became heavy and soon your head fell onto Pepper’s shoulder. You were too weak to fight sleep as it called your name.

The weight of your head falling onto Pepper’s shoulder startled her and she tried to keep her body from jumping so she wouldn’t wake you. You didn’t. “Do you want me to move her?” Tony asked. Pepper shook her head.

“No, she’s perfectly fine.” She meant it. When was the last time you allowed yourself to lean on the shoulder of another? Jessica Easton died in 2018, a few months before the Blip. That was 6 years ago. The case remained open. It was another layer to have you bare alone. So you could rest your head on her shoulder as long as you wanted, she didn’t mind.

“I have a meeting with possible investors,” Pepper said, looking at her tablet.

“I’m waiting for a video call from Bruce,” Tony poured coffee into the mug. You rolled your eyes as you filled up your water bottle from the fridge and poured an electrolyte mix into it. It was important to stay hydrated during your chemo sessions. The couple have been going back and forth for 20 minutes on who would be going with you to your appointment. However, it appeared that being Iron Man and the CEO of one of the biggest companies meant busy schedules.

“You know,” you said slowly and put the water bottle on the side of your backpack. Inside, was everything you needed to survive a long day at the cancer center; art supplies, a book, medication, lotion, and snacks lots and lots of snacks. “I can go by myself. I’ve done it before.”

“No,” they said in unison. You sighed, slumping down in the empty chair. Your appointment was at 0900 so you wanted to leave by 0830 to get there a few minutes early. They add to check your results from the blood you gave yesterday. Before every chemotherapy appointment, they needed to make sure your levels were good. 0830 was in 30 minutes and at this rate, you were going to be late.

“Everything okay?” Wanda asked, leaning onto the counter next to you. You sighed.

“Tony and Pepper don’t want me to go to my appointment alone but they are both too busy,” you explained the short-hand version of what was going on this morning. “So I’m just waiting.” She smiled.

“I can take you,” you looked at her in disbelief. She giggled. “I don’t have anything going on.”

“You're amazing,” you turned your attention back to the couple. “Excuse me?” They looked at you. “Wanda said she’ll take me. She’s a very capable adult and you let her watch Morgan,” you sighed when they remained silent. “Oh for goodness sake, I’m getting a needle stapped into my port,” you flipped open your jacket to reveal your tank top. It was March in New York City, it was a little crazy to be wearing a tank top but it made getting to your port easier. Everything went through your port, chemo and they could draw blood. It was easier than them having to run an IV every time. “It’s not like I’m having brain surgery.” You could see Tony thinking it through.

“Fine but you call me as soon as you're done and if there are any issues.” Amazing. Beautiful. You were half tempted to kiss Wanda for saving you.

“I will,” you grabbed Wanda’s hand and your blanket with the other. “See ya later. Bye!” You dragged the poor witch to the elevator, not daring to wait because they could change their minds. “Sorry,” you said told Wanda when the elevator doors closed safely behind you. “I did not want them to change their mind,” she laughed as the elevator moved to the subfloor of the tower. You adjusted the backpack traps and leaned against the metal walls.

“Are you nervous?” Wanda asked. You sighed, looking up at the ceiling.

“It’s not nerves,” you said. “The anticipation really like I’ve done this before but a knot still forms in my stomach, does that make sense?” You asked, looking at her.

“It does. I get the same feeling when I use my powers,” her fingertips began to glow red. “I know the feeling and what I’m supposed to do but my stomach still twists and turns.” Carefully, you reached out to touch her fingers that glowed. It was like a static shock; one moment you were standing in the elevator with Wanda and the next you felt as if you were in the car accident again. The screeching of tires. The piercing sound of metal against metal. And the screams of you and your mom. “Y/n,” you heard your name. “Hey, can you hear me?” You blinked, shaking your head slightly. You were standing in the corner of the elevator, gripping the handle. The doors were open and Wanda was standing in front of you. “Are you with me?” You nodded, licking your lips.

“Yeah,” you said, releasing the hold you had on the handle. There were indents on your palm from the metal. “I’m okay,” Wanda wasn’t convinced, the color was drained from her face making her green eyes pop. “It wasn’t your fault,” you assured her. “I shouldn’t have touched your magic without asking.” She sighed, running her fingers through her hair.

“Let’s get you in the car,” you nodded, allowing her to wrap her arm around your shoulders and lead you to the car. She opened the passenger door and you sat down.

“I feel like I got run over by an elephant,” you said. Wanda smiled and knelt in front of you. “I don’t remember the car accident,” you told her, playing with the threads on the blanket on your lap. “I just woke up in the hospital and I couldn’t answer any of the questions the police asked me.” You whipped away a tear that fell. “Could you help me remember?” You whispered. Wanda nodded, placing a hand on top of yours.

“I can,” your head snapped up to look at you. “But not when you are fighting this.” This was the cancer that was running rampant through your body. “It will be painful and I don’t think your mind or body is strong enough to handle it.” She was right. On your best days, you were lucky to not get tired before noon. “We should get going. Don’t want to be late.”

“Right,” you whispered, swinging your legs into the car and putting your backpack by your feet. Wanda closed the door and rounded the front to the driver's side. By the time she was in the car, you were buckled in. You were grateful that Tony, Pepper, and Wanda were adamant about going with you to your appointments but there was a nagging voice in the back of your head calling out to your mom. Why was she taken from you? Was it some type of punishment or test? Why was it her and not you?”

“Hey,” Wanda’s voice pulled you out of your spiraling thoughts. “Stay with me, okay?” She offered her free hand over the center console. “Stay right here.”

“I’m here,” you promised, lacing your fingers with hers. She wanted you to stay in the present and not slip into the past. You squeezed her hand and held onto it the entire ride, a little afraid to let go.

“Does that hurt?” Wanda asked as the nurse, injected the needle into your port. You were all settled in your little cubicle; a pillow behind your head and a blanket draped over you. Your water bottle, sketchbook, and book were arranged on the small side table how you liked it. Each one had a small TV, and a fridge and there was a kitchen for everyone to use. You never watched TV, content with listening to music and sketching. But now you had someone with you which was weird. You shook your head and thanked the nurse as she left.

“Nope, I put numbing lotion on it before we left,” you answered. “Now I wait.” Wanda looked around.

“And you did this by yourself?” You smiled, nodding at the witch.

“It’s not that bad,” she titled her heat at you, a clear indication she didn’t believe you.”Okay sometimes it gets lonely but the nurses are fun to talk to and I get some drawing done. Besides the double dosage days are the worst since they take forever.” You were given cytarabine and daunorubicin with a flush in between due to the chemotherapy possibility of damaging your kidneys.

“Can I get you anything? Or do anything for you?” You looked at your setup.

“Actually, can you go get me some tea from the common area? We passed the kitchen on our way in.” The witch nodded and journeyed into the kitchen. With a sigh, you picked up your phone and began to scroll through the social media. You liked scrolling through instead of posting yourself. Even though everyone said you needed to make an Instagram, it seemed like a lot of work but you tried to post every once in a while to keep your friends in DC posted. “Shit,” you mumbled when you stopped on a picture that was posted on Captain Mills’ social media page. You forgot your promise to Rebecca. Damn, chemo brain. You pulled up your text message and hit Henry’s contact.

‘Hey Captain, I need a favor. Call me when you free.’

“That was a lot of fun,” you said to Wanda as you entered the tower’s lobby. “Thank you for coming with me.” She smile with the blanket you used in her arms. She admitted to helping you carry something. It was nice just talking with Wanda and learning about her through her stories and not the media. The media wasn’t kind to anyone, you’ve seen it grab your mom’s name through the mud. Especially with her case against the Liberation Front, an underground crime syndicate that ran up and down the East Coast. She was able to put one of their leaders Enzo Martinez in prison for life. The local media outlets and officials were not happy with her.

“I’m glad I could go. If you need me to go again let me know.”

“I will,” you hit the button for the elevator, and while you were waiting, you looked towards Rebecca’s desk. She was done helping someone and sat down at her desk. “Hold the elevator for me,” you called over your shoulder and jobbed over to Rebecca. She jumped slightly at your sudden appearance. “Hi.”

“Oh hi. Y/n, right?” You nodded. “I see your talk with Tony went well.”

“It did and all thanks to you,” you fished out a business card from your sweatpants and handed her the card. “A certain captain is expecting a phone call from you,” her hands shook as she took it. Her eyes darted from the piece of paper to you. “And if Tony gives you a hard time about the time off. Let me know, okay? Bye.” You ran back to Wanda.

“Thank you,” she called after you. You waved and stepped into the elevator.

“I’m starving,” you said once the metal doors opened the metal doors to the common floor. Skipping past the couch, you through your backpack on it and made your way to the kitchen. There was stuff in your kitchen but you were too lazy to cook and you were hungry now. You opened the fridge, humming to the song that was playing on the radio.

“Hello, Miss. Easton,” you glanced over your shoulder to see Vision, reading a book on the couch. “How was your chemotherapy appointment?”

“Oh hi Vis, I didn’t see you,” Wanda lay your blanket on the back of the couch. The android took the witch’s hand and kissed the back of her hand. Awe, they were cute. “I had food on the brain,” you turned to look back at the fridge. “But it was good. Wanda made it better.” You pulled out someone’s leftover pizza, you didn’t see a name on it and would deal with the consequences later. You ate the pizza over the sink, not wanting to dirty a plate.

“I thought chemo was supposed to make her lose her appetite,” you nodded.

“It does,” you said, covering your mouth while you chewed on pizza. “But they gave me steroids today to trick my body. I’ll be like this for like 24 hours.”

“What can we do to assist you?” Vision asked. That was such an odd question. What could they do to help you?

“Right now nothing,” you shrugged. “I’ll probably be eating all day.”

“Well I can make chicken paprikash,” Wanda said. “I think we have all the ingredients for it.” Your jaw dropped and a piece of pizza was about to fall out of your mouth.

“You know how to make chicken paprikash,” You said in disbelief.

“I would hope so,” she closed your mouth. “I am Sokovian.” That..made sense. “Sit and I’ll make it.” You did what you were told but not without grabbing a small bag of pretzels.

“There is a restaurant in DC that made chicken paprikash not as good as the one I had in Sokovia,” the witch froze and slowly turned to look at you. She blinked once, twice.

“You’ve been to Sokovia,” you nodded. “Before Ultron happened?” You nodded again.

“In 2014, I was 16 and my mom wanted to help with the war efforts,” you slowly ate the pretzel. “It was a beautiful country.” Your mom was hesitant to bring you with her to a war-torn country due to several attacks orchestrated by the US Air Force to try to stop the country’s political turmoil. This resulted in massive infrastructure and property damage, along with heavy civilian casualties. Besides all that, you found some of the kindest and most beautiful souls in Sokovia. She nodded, her green eyes swelling with tears. You couldn’t imagine losing the place you called home in such a horrific way. Vision joined Wanda’s side, offering a gentle hand on her back.

“Yes,” her accent was much thicker. “Yes, it was. Now,” she smiled. “Let’s get cooking.”

“I’m a little impressed,” Natasha mumbled as she stood next to Yelena and Bucky. “Is that her third plate?” The blonde nodded as you finally took a break from inhaling Wanda’s cooking to take a sip of water.

“Stark is going to need to take out a loan if this is how she’s going to be every week,” Yelena rolled her eyes, slapping the soldier on his cheek.

“Please Stark could end world hunger if he wanted to,” the blonde said. The man in question walked over to you. It was a shock that the man was trying to be a father to you. Yelena was curious if he was going to help you or send you away. It was hit or miss with the billionaire. Yelena left her sister and boyfriend and walked over to the empty seat next to you. “Are you saving any for us?” She asked you. You giggled, whipping your mouth with a napkin.

“Yes, Blondie,” you smiled. “Wanda made a double patch.” Yelena chuckled.

“So, you’ll be eating all of our food for the next 24 hours,” Tony teased. You playfully rolled your eyes, the smile on your face growing.

“I think you can afford it.”

“I said the same thing!” Yelena laughed.

“Your old man has more money than everyone in this tower times two,” you spun around in your chair to see Rhodey and Maria. They must have just gotten back from DC.

“I’m surprised Stark doesn’t have more of you surfacing.” Maria joked. Yelena had that very same thought.

“How about we stop talking about me like I’m not here?” Tony asked.

“Eh, where is the fun in that?” You said, glancing over your shoulder. Tony sighed and filled a travel mug with coffee.

“Don’t tell her something you’ll regret,” the billionaire threatened his friend. Rhodey held up his hands in surrender as Tony headed toward the direction of Pepper’s office. Rhodey rolled his eyes.

“James Rhodes,” he introduced himself, extending his hand for you to shake. “Everyone calls me Rhodey.” You smiled and shook his hand.

“Maria Hill,” the brunette said. “Nice to put a face to the name.” You shook her hand as well.

“The old man likes talking about me I see,” you smiled. Yelena thanked her sister with a smile as Natasha handed her a plate. The rest of the team filled in to get their food and sat around the dining room table. You sat next to Yelena, only bringing a glass of water to the table.

“Not every day a stranger pops up and says you're his kid,” Natasha sat down in the empty chair next to Yelena. “Cut him some slack.”

“Hey, no hate,” you smirked, taking a sip of your water. “I am pretty amazing.” Your comment got a few chuckles from around the table. The Black Widow was sure she heard, ‘She really is a Stark.’ But Yelena scuffed and rolled her eyes. “You got something to say, Blondie?”

“Blondie?” Maria questioned. “What the hell kind of nickname is that -” Before the agent could reveal her name, Morgan rounded the corner and excitedly yelled out your name. It was the only warning you got before the 4-year-old jumped on your lap.

“Mommy and Daddy said you had to go to the doctor today,” Wanda appeared with a small plate with chicken nuggets and mac and cheese. Yelena was a little jealous of her mac and cheese but you waved the witch off when she was about to take Morgan to her seat. “Do they give you a lollipop? My doctor always gives me a lollipop.”

“I did and I didn’t get a lollipop,” the young girl gasped at your confession. Yelena began to eat her dinner but she couldn’t help but watch you interact with your half-sister. “The doctors had to make sure I stay nice and healthy so I can keep playing with you.” You tickled her sides which caused her to squeal and giggle. The sound brought a smile to Yelena’s face but it tugged at her heart and made her stomach drop. Of course, you were good with kids, what couldn’t you do?

“Are you healthy? Daddy said you were sick,” her simple question caused the table to get quiet. Yelena saw you cringe at your choice of words that led to this question.

“You know my mom used to say you can get stronger and stronger every day but you have to eat chicken nuggets and mac and cheese,” you snatched some of the food off her plate. “You wouldn’t mind if I..” you trailed off as you slowly brought the food to your mouth. Morgan gasped and took it out of your hand.

“My chicken nugget,” she said.

“Well eat your dinner before I get hungry again,” you smiled.

“I would listen to her,” Yelena teased. “She’s got a big appetite. I’m surprised she hasn’t eaten all of our food.” You stuck your tongue at her. Morgan got comfortable on your lap and began to eat her food, not realizing you failed to answer her question. Your eyes locked on with Yelena’s and the blonde tried to silently ask if you were okay. You offered her a small smile and focused back on the conversation that was taking place at the table. Yelena wondered how much Tony told his youngest. Did she know that her newest friend was a little more than ‘sick’?

Was it a mistake to leave one of his best friends with the girl who he just learned was his daughter? Probably but he needed to talk to Pepper before he lost his nerve. Quietly, he opened the door to her office and saw that was wasn’t on the phone. “For you,” he said, handing her the coffee he made; no sugar, a dash of oak milk, and either caramel or French vanilla syrup. She took the coffee and eyes him cautiously.

“What did you do?” Pepper asked. Tony gasped, sitting in the chair in front of her desk.

“Why do you think I did anything wrong?” He asked, crossing his right leg over his left. “Why can’t I, as your husband, bring you, my beautiful hardworking wife, coffee?” The CEO stared at him, slowly taking a stop of coffee.

“Caramel,” she said. “My favorite. So, what’s wrong?” Tony sighed, picking up a spar pencil on Pepper’s desk. He twirled the writing device around his fingers.

“I ran the few tests we have and there is one match.”

“Who is it?” She asked. Oh boy. It was now or never.

“Morgan,” he glanced at his wife. To his surprise, her face remained stoic.

“Have you told Y/n yet?” Tony wasn’t expecting that question or this reaction. He had half the mind to wear his Iron Man suit for protection.

“No, you're the only person I’ve told,” he leaned forward. “How are you not freaking out about this? I’m freaking out.” Pepper sighed, closing her laptop. She rested her elbows on top of her desk and folded her hands.

“I figured it was a possibility, especially with what Vision said.” Right. The android said there was a 1% chance for a parent to be matched and 50% for siblings. Of course, Morgan was more likely to be a match.

“What do we do?” Tony asked and stood up. “If we don’t let Morgan help her-” his voice trailed off.

“Then she’ll die,” she finished his sentence. “But are we going to subject our daughter to an intense procedure? I read about it, it can be incredibly painful.” Tony read about it too. It is why he prayed to whatever deity that would listen that he would be a match. Subjecting his youngest to that wasn’t ideal. But you were fighting cancer. “And you did say her medical team does have a plan B.”

“But it’s not a guarantee it will work,” he said, leaning the palms of his hands against her wooden desk. “So, what do we do?” He asked again.

“We talk with Y/n,” she answered, placing her hands on top of his. “Ultimately it’s her choice.” Your choice. Your choice and your life hung in the balance.

Taglist: @likemick, @averagetmblrusser, @@wandaromamoff69

#second chace #tony stark x reader #tony stark x daughter #tony stark x daughter!reader #pepper potts x reader #pepper potts x daughter!reader #pepper potts x tony stark #morgan stark x sister!reader #wanda maximoff x reader #yelena belova x reader #yelena belova x you #yelena belova x y/n

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ndcgalitzine · 7 months

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another refreshing argument with dear old mum that ends with me in frustrated tears at home!!! She asked me what I thought of our relationship... I said it sucked! Then she said I COULD FIX IT!!! ME??

I have to do the shopping for her twice a week, do all the laundry for her, take out the trash, and help her shower once a week, along with all the other small things she asks me to do. And she's mad at me for never sticking around for more than a minute when I drop by her house to do all those things.

Usually it's at the end of a workday for me, when I'm tired, hungry, and just want to go to my house and rest for the night.

I sometimes try to talk to her and I barely get any responses, and she never, and I mean NEVER asks me anything about how I'm doing or how my family is doing, or how's work or anything. She just wants me to sit there and listen to her complain.

When I ask her why she can't ask my brother to do any of those things for her, it's always 'he has the kids' or 'he did this one thing for me a whole month ago', or 'I have to ask him to do another thing for me next week'... is she honestly surprised that I'm exhausted for being her own personal maid, and I don't have the time, energy, or hell even the WILL to be her daughter as well???

She started talking about all the times my brother has taken her to the hospital, and came to visit her, and picked her up. I told her I've visited her many times (although she could only recall the one time, until I reminded her) and I've picked her up often (again, she could only recall the one time) and the reason she has asked my brother to do these things for her is because I'VE ASKED HER to have my brother do something because I just don't have the time, I'm stuck at work, or because HE IS ALSO HER CHILD!! And when she started complaining about how he has often driven her himself to the hospital, I reminded her of the one time I drove her, instead of calling an ambulance, and she had to sit in the waiting room for almost an hour, while having trouble getting oxygen!! Which was WHY I always want to call an ambulance for her, because at least that way she'll get the help she needs sooner, it'll be easier for them to put her on a stretcher and get her out of the house, instead of us having to walk her to the car while she's in the condition she's in. And that way she gets to see a doctor immediately after entering the hospital, and not having to sit around for an hour to wait to be seen.

It's like my brother gets a 100 points for everything he does for her, and I only get 1 point, and she keeps comparing these points...

The we started arguing about the fact that I don't talk to my brother, I avoid him at all costs... and I felt the need to remind her that physically abused me throughout my entire childhood, I had to stay locked in my room so I wouldn't annoy my brother and get into an argument with him, that ended up with my sitting with my back against the door, holding the lock, so he couldn't get into the room to beat the shit out of me!!!

She started talking about all the doors he's broken, and that he's paid her back for those doors today..

I DON'T GIVE A SHIT ABOUT THE STUFF HE BROKE!!! He broke ME!!! I am riddled with anxiety because of all the shit I went through as a kid because of him, and she has to mention that she got him help and he was put on medication. Yeah, when he was almost 18 and I was almost 15. Things got a little better sure, but they were still bad, and it also didn't matter to me because nothing was done for me and the DAMAGE WAS ALREADY DONE!!!

And then she wants to compare me to him??? I'm so done with that! idgaf if he's going through shit himself, that he's depressed because he's alone because his ex broke up with him because he was abusive to her. I WAS SO HAPPY FOR HER WHEN SHE LEFT HIM because I know better than anyone how horrible he is to live with. I'm trying to deal with my shit, with my mental problems, with my work, with my relationship with my friends, my husband AND MY OWN DAUGHTER, who I'm trying to turn into a functioning member of society.

Oh and get this, she tried to bring my dead dad into it, started talking about a dream I had about him last year, and if he wasn't trying to give me a sign at that time. First of all, I dream about my dad all the time. Even if I don't dream about him, I can always feel him somewhere to the side of me or behind me. Even in my most craziest dreams. But she started saying that he must have been sending me a sign because I felt guilty about never visiting him in the last few years of his life... and yes of course I do. But the man was also just not okay in the head, he was so difficult to talk to. He'd call me up and sometimes the conversation would be no more than three minutes, an mostly he was just asking me about my sister, who I didn't even speak. He lived 3 hours away from us, the year of his life was when Covid was everywhere and nobody was allowed to go anywhere... so of course I wasn't gonna go visit him, if there was even the slightest change that I could infect him with Covid!!!

I visit my mother 5-6 times a week... I try talking to her but barely get responses. She never asks me anything. She uses me as her maid. She only calls me to ask me to do something for her. And she thinks that it's on ME to fix this relationship???

My GAHD this has been a rant...

#personal #family fun time #this is not how I wanted to spend my sunday

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aerinis · 9 months

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Doing my belated 2023 art review. Putting it below a read more because a lot of stuff happened this year and some of it is kind of heavy.

2023 was a pretty good year for me, both personally and artistically. I had a couple of annoying minor medical issues that I'm still dealing with, but I'd say I was able to maintain my goal of drawing at least one little doodle a day for most of the year. I will say though that the vast majority of what I drew this year - probably like 95% - was personal art. Hopefully someday I'll be satisfied enough with it to post it. I'd also like to spend 2024 focusing more on painting and practicing landscapes. I spent the first three months of the year working on a piece for a local art gallery competition, which actually ended up getting accepted and subsequently spent the rest of the year touring around the state in several different exhibitions. That introduced me to the wonderful world of trying to figure out how the hell digital prints and shipping work, but everything turned out fine in the end. It remains the largest piece I've ever made at 18"x24", and hopefully once I get it shipped back to me I'll be sending it off to my parents. I also found out that I HATE writing artist's statements, like fuck off you don't need to know my background, just interpret the piece however. I'd like to post here, but I want to make sure first that it hasn't been uploaded to the internet by any of the galleries since I'd like to keep my personal info off this blog lmao What's funny is that I feel like I've come so far as an artist ever since I submitted that piece, that every time I look at the B-grade prints I have lying around I'm like "oh my god this looks terrible, I can't believe this got accepted". I guess that's just what being an artist is like Following that, I took the next month off from art, which was a nice little break. I did a bunch of art parties in FFXIV, which are always great for improving, because as counter-intuitive as it seems the best way to get good at art is to be forced to draw a whole bunch of different things under strict time limits. I feel like I can definitely see my lineart improving as the months go on. I also started working more with color, my eternal nemesis, and I'm hoping next year I can really start to nail down a style. I did Art Fight for the first time ever in July and it ROCKED, definitely going to do it again this year and I'm still pretty proud of the drawings I did. I love an event where it's socially acceptable for me to draw people's OCs. I think I'll probably focus on doing more WoW OCs this year. Unfortunately July is the busiest month for me at work, where I'm waking up at 5AM for basically the entire month straight and working in 100+ degree weather, so we'll see if I can maintain the energy for it.

And now the heavy stuff. Some of you might know that I'm pretty involved in the secret finding community in WoW, and back during BFA when we spent 11.5 months trying to find Jenafur, I did paint-overs of a bunch of cat memes to try and keep spirits up during the hunt. Unfortunately, the Make-A-Wish kid who created the pet ended up passing away in April. You can read about her life here in this article that will make you want to guillotine a chemical executive, and this older interview from 2020 about the secret. But what really got to me was this one line from the PCGames interview:

And like, I don't want to be presumptuous but like. I think she was talking about my art. Every time I posted on she'd comment on it, and she even DMed me about them. This line fucking destroyed me. I'm not even going to exaggerate. For several days after we found out about her death I was a wreck. The thought that my silly little drawings actually had an impact on someone and made their life a little brighter just ruined me. The bill she was fighting for ended up passing, and I hope that someday the idea of 'forever chemicals' will cease to exist.

Downer ending but I'm kind of too bummed out to write more

#my art

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kariachi · 2 years

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Want to do OC things but have nothing in my little brain so, Monette facts! Congratulations!

Has some PTSD after an incident in middle school. Didn’t get therapy for it for way too long too, not till her 20s. She still doesn’t do fire, screaming, or pork barbecue, but she’s working on her worrying level of acceptance of death

Goes grey quite young. It’s a genetic thing, her father did it, his father did it- she started getting grey hairs in high school and by the time she left college she’d lost every bit of brown. Owns it too, she’s got way too much self-confidence to have been brought down by something like losing color in her hair

Is very much a pet-name sort’ve person. She’s the sort to call people ‘darling’ and ‘love’ just as a matter of course, shortens names on the regular, if she uses your actual name and doesn’t add a ‘dear’ or some shit to the end she is fucking pissed no matter how much she might be smiling at you

She will normally be smiling, do not trust it, over time you learn to tell the difference between ‘I’m being polite’ and ‘somebody will be by your garage with a sledgehammer next month’

She’s a sweetheart, most personable and giving fucker around, who will 100% call that girl she fucked in college whose uncle has ties to the mob and they’ll make sure you stop harassing that nice kid working the counter at her favorite cafe

Nobody’s died because of her so far. So far.

Monie lives in a world of connections and favors and ‘you scratch my back I’ll scratch yours’

She is so fucking social. She owns an 8 bedroom mansion purely for hosting purposes (you can worry about making sure your drunk guests get home safe, or have a place ready for them to crash) (it also has an elevator and ramps purely for accessibility reasons).

If there is any defining Monie trait it’s that she likes people, she likes being around people, she likes making people happy. Which directly led to her more positive traits, it only took hearing one maid worrying about medical bills when she was a kid to make her go ‘none of my people should have to worry like that’ and now here we are, with this bitch paying her maids the same wage she’s getting

If you put Monie on a desert island with enough food, shelter, water, medical gear, etc to last a year she’d die within a week of loneliness, swear to god

Is by far the most athletic of my OCs. Marian also has her sporty side but Monie has to do sport or her enrichment needs aren’t met

Played hockey from early elementary school up through college, trying to play professionally was an actual serious consideration for her. As it stands she continues to follow the sport religiously, funds local and semi-local women’s and girls’ teams, and will join in on a friendly game given any sort’ve encouragement

Honestly it’s amazing she survived playing hockey, she is a small woman- 5′2 and like 125 lbs soaking wet- but not afraid to get right of a middle of skirmish. Enjoys it, in fact

At ‘present’ her big ‘I need to do an athletic’ things are running (why no, she doesn’t have a long straight empty space running across her home just so she can do sprints, why would you think that) and rock climbing. She generally does traditional climbing or highball bouldering, the latter to fill her burning need for free solo climbing

Does she want to climb a 100 ft cliff face with nothing but chalk and proper footwear at every opportunity? Yes. Does her therapist specifically request she not do that sort’ve thing anymore? Also yes.

Her family was expecting her to go into politics, wanted her to go into politics. As of the ‘present’ she has a pretty much brand-new doctorate in physical therapy. Her great-aunt considers this a lesser accomplishment than her cousin getting a bachelor’s in business and honestly the fact the woman is still alive should earn Monie a medal

Does she go around making a big deal of the doctorate as a general rule? No. Is she require it’s acknowledgement by assholes who want to deal with her? Yes.

Has had multiple arguments with said cousin about whether unions are a threat to the framework of American economics or ‘a valuable tool for maintaining a healthy relationship between owners and employees and ensuring the balance of the economy, you self-important twerp’

Spends about 70% of the money she gets from her shares in family businesses on things like buying out people’s medical debt, improving housing access and helping people get off the streets, advocating for higher wages and lower police budgets, so on and so forth (again, people were surprised she didn’t go into politics)

Her big goal is to take the business she’s going to inherit from her mother and just hand it over completely to the employees, take the profits from her shares of the business on her father’s side once he’s gone and they quadruple and over the course of several years set up a charity providing free housing, one that literally just handles medical bills for people, and a scholarship program for low income med students, each with their own trust account feeding into a checking account, then take her shares and, if she can drag her relatives into it, establish an Employee Owned Trust, granting them to their employees and giving them 1/3 share of the business. After that, if her math is right, her savings should be just enough to carry her to her death in the degree of luxury which she prefers, with any leftovers also going to charity

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idkguessiwillbloghere · 2 years

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Blog Post #22

Feeling: Deeply depressed Weather: Cold Last thing I ate: Spaghetti Last thing I drank: Melatonin tea I quit my last job a month ago and I still don’t have a new job. I’ve applied places; all of the “no one wants to work anymore, we’re understaffed” whiners never return my calls or emails; they’re clearly just reaping government COVID relief finances. I wish I had the energy to report them directly to the state government. I’m sure someone out there is like “but people need those relief funds with inflation.” I say fuck you I need to work, we all do; we don’t get to be destitute and shat on for “being too lazy to work” at the same time. I’m also still trying to unsuccessfully process just how shitty people are in general. The most recent thing on my mind is I had a now former coworker (who has a knife-sharpening business on the side) fix one of my knives. My knife was custom-made, but because it was stored in a shitty leather pouch, it got moldy and rusted. It was all pitted and whatnot. When I gave him the knife to work on, I asked him how much it would cost me. He said nothing, but it would take ages to get it done because he had so many other orders to take care of. About seven months went by. I checked in once in a while, he kept saying he was still too busy. Eventually he said he was about to get to it. I asked him again if he needed me to pay anything. He said $20. Alright, would’ve been best if he said so from the start, but I meant what I asked, so I’m happy to pay it. But because this isn’t my first rodeo with shitty people, when he messaged me today saying it was done (and at THIS point, explaining that his style of fixing knives is “Wabi Sabi,” and “that’s why it’s a little uneven), I asked this question again as a test. This is someone I have been tempted to hang out with, I want to know who he really is. Guess what? He wants $40 now, unless I want more of the pitting taken out, then it’ll cost even more. I forgot to call the doctor office I worked at; as employees, our blood draws and other simple procedures are normally waived. But since my former boss now hates me, she is trying to stick me with the bill. I got a threatening letter from the organization that processes the blood draws, telling me I will be sent to collections and my credit score will suffer if I don’t pay them. I shouldn’t be paying them, the medical office should. Thankfully not everyone who works there is a shitstain; most people there like me. I called and left a message for the receptionist about the matter, I just need to call her back again. Which reminds me, my now second former therapist of the year put me in the ER, claiming I was going to kill myself that same night. He asked me, and I quote, “Are you going to kill yourself in the next two days?” I said honestly and plainly, “No.” He said, “I’m not convinced,” and proceeded to say that I either go to the ER right then, or he would call the cops on me. So ER it was. And the ER treated me like garbage, and were about to strip me naked, tie me to the bed, and take my phone away; I called my father, who’s a lawyer, he thankfully got there in time and every fuckface who was trying to pull some shit dispersed. Then, hours later, the psychology expert who I was sent there to see FINALLY showed up, talked to me for ten seconds, and was like, “O, you’re not suicidal.” And I was like yeah no motherfucking shit. But of course, I’m stuck with a huge bill from a visit that was medically unnecessary. The hospital did the whole dog and pony show of “We’re taking your concerns super seriously and we’ll let you know the results after our higher-ups review your concerns.” Obviously it ended with them sending me a letter telling me that they were 100% justified in their shit behavior and I need to pay them. Because that’s how capitalistic suicide “prevention” works. Ironically, it all just makes me want to die now.

The roommates I was going to have in Oregon had claimed they were looking for a house because their apartment lease was ending this December, and that I could come live with them when they got it. Of course, no house, renewed lease. That means that if I can’t secure a place to move to by March, when my lease is up, I gotta remain stuck here in a terrible environment for another year. I finally cleaned my fish tank. My crawfish and danio are much happier now. I’m tired. I’m going to bed.

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svpervixen · 2 years

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No, it isn’t what happened to you, it’s what happened to me.

I know the world revolves around you and all that drama and your own narrative of it, but I told you the extent of what happened to my knowledge. /I/ had nothing to do with it.

It blows my mind, that even now, after he replaced you as quickly as the others and most likely cheated on you, you still want to demonize ME for venting on my own blog that no one seems to give a fuck about but YOU.

I gave you chance after chance to hear me and understand where I was coming from. You chose to demonize me in the face of a serial abuser and I have zero sympathy for you at this point. That “LOL we really still doing this” post, I didn’t want to assume that was about me, but after your latest post, I know you’re still looking. And like I’ve said before, I’m not going to pretend I don’t look. Not nearly as often as I use to, but I still would, out of curiosity and concern. You can go ahead and pretend you don’t look at my shit, but you and I both know much better. Right? But like I said, I’m not going to pretend I don’t, which is why I’m saying this shit now.

I told you at the time and was prepared to show in court that I was mortified that you felt threatened at work. Because despite my personal feelings towards this whole thing, I would never wish harm or paranoia on you. I have no idea who violated your vehicle or put you in a position where you needed an escort to your car. I had NOTHING to do with that.

My cousin is a good man. The girl he was with at the time took it upon herself to further the dialogue in a way that neither of us were ok with, and lo and behold, less than a year later, they broke up because she wasn’t the right fit for him. Her and her family even got into a physical fight in a fucking Walmart that was posted on Facebook and ridiculed appropriately way after the fact. So anything that my family had to do at the time is so way beyond your understanding of this whole thing, it’s not even funny. But at the end of it all, I had no idea they had run into you at your job until after they had left. THATS when my cousin messaged me. At the time I was either at home or at work depending on the status of my health. Need screenshots again?

All that shit aside, I told you from the fucking start that I had nothing to do with it. It’s not my fault that I told the truth about what he did to me, and people became angry with him after the fact. You can choose to believe and defend a piece of shit, that’s on you. But don’t blame me for whatever the fuck happened to you at your job when I have you on fucking tape approaching me alongside that fuck at my own job to ruin my healing process for the next one to two years. My body was finally fucking healing from the ulcers the stress he put me through made me develop. And I know you wanted to act like you knew more about it than I did, but I was the one forced to take months off from work, unpaid. I was the one laid up in bed, legitimately fearing I was dying because I couldn’t even lift my head without passing out. I was the one that has 100s of dollars in medical bills to be put to sleep, have cameras shoved in my ass and throat, and be told when I woke up I had multiple holes in my digestive system and that’s why I got so weak at work, that’s why I couldn’t lift my head, that’s why I couldn’t stand or walk or even sit up without being in pain. And if you’re so smart, you’d know that highly stressful situations often result in ulcers like that. So what excuse do you have to give me now? Now that you’re not his main supporter, now that he has someone else to use, what the fuck do you have to say about it? Why in the flying FUCK do you care?! You want to be angry at me when you never even believed me in the first place??? Why in the fuck would you do or say anything that would even remotely resemble you still standing up for him after all he did???

Have you been picked yet? Is all you’re doing really worth it? You want to poke me at this point in my life? Go the fuck ahead because I’m stronger than I’ve ever fucking been and I’m not going to cower in front of you. When you and that fuck came into my job and cornered me, I was less than a month back from healing from my ulcers, and I was still dealing with an immense amount of trauma. My nervous system is still recovering and has been for a while. So the fact that my knees were shaking and I couldn’t get my words out? It’s not because I was fucking scared of you two. It’s because I was fucking traumatized. And if you want to continue making a mockery out of my fucking trauma, go the fuck ahead. Want to keep believing his narrative, even after the ways he fucked you over? Go the FUCK ahead. But don’t pretend like the shit you’ve been posting lately isn’t a direct response to the way I’ve been venting on my OWN blog. If you didn’t want a direct response, maybe make it a bit more nuanced. Otherwise? I’m not afraid to confront you. Henceforth, here the fuck I am.

Got anything else to say? I’ll open up my ask box JUST for you. I’m tired of these fucking games. So go ahead. Go for it. I’ll be waiting.

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phoenixyfriend · 4 years

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Time Travel ft. Leia and Vader

(Helped by @atagotiak)

I was reading a bunch of different time travel fics, and my brain slotted in that one "Vader hands over the Empire to Leia and is now her most devoted sycophant" dynamic and mixed it with the "Luke and Vader time-travel and Vader does the right thing but only because it would make Luke sad if he didn't."

I landed on "Leia time travels to prequels era, but her least favorite family member has also traveled with her, though it takes him a few months to find her because he has less resources without the entire Imperial Navy, but he's still a scary Sith in all black with a breathing mask and intimidating cape."

"Tiny angry lady who wants to force democracy and her giant Sith father whom she hates but has resigned herself to pointing at threats like a tank who inexplicably loves her" is a delightful dynamic.

The first few months included a lot of concern about "why do you know so much about Sith if you're not trained or looking to be one" and then Vader shows up and calls her 'daughter' and she insults him and it's like "Oh. That explains it."

Council Member: We have a Sith in the Temple. Vader: Former Sith. Leia: Listen. He is your best chance against Sidious. Also, do you want Dooku dead? Vader can make him dead. Council Member: Your father i-- Leia, scrunching up her face: Don't call him that.

Like Leia is deep in conversation when the Temple starts panicking because Vader just. Showed up? He snuck in, somehow? So Palpatine wouldn't catch him on video entering through the front door? And people try to keep her away from the trouble, because there's an entire array of Jedi Masters to deal with this Surprise Sith, except she can sense exactly which Sith it is and once she shouts "oh you have got to be kidding me!" she just starts running and, well, it's Leia. Nobody can stop her.

(Leia does have less combat training, at least less force-assisted combat training, than the Jedi. But then the Jedi don’t want to hurt here here. She's not fighting her way down, either, she's just running really fast and all the best fighters already left. They had a head start. So Leia's mostly running past random padawans and the like.)

She shoves her way to the front of the group of Masters who. Well, they're certainly ready to attack. But Vader is just standing there. Doing nothing. Still intimidating as fuck but he's not doing anything.

And then Leia bursts onto the scene like "You motherfucker."

She hits her head on a clipboard and whines because UGH he's a walking WMD and they could REALLY use him against Palpatine but also. She hates him so much.

She tries to hand him off to the Jedi council but he insists that he will only take orders from Leia herself.

Jedi: Wait, what. Leia, completely ignoring them: Did you follow me here? Vader, through the mechanical wheezing: I have no loyalty to my master and no empire to serve. You are all that I have left. Leia: Me? Me? I'm all that you have left? You committed a genocide that killed all the family I had except for the twin brother you later mutilated! Jedi: Wait what Vader, going to one knee: I pledge my loyalty and blade to you and only you, daughter. Leia, ready to explode: I. I just. Jedi, some of whom really want to say things but are slowly realizing that they just accidentally acquired a Sith Lord by proxy: What. Leia: I hate you so much but I can't even get rid of you, you're too useful. Vader: I live to serve. Leia: Yeah. Got that. Fuck. Someone get him a full medical rundown, I don't know the last time that mess of a life support system was updated. Jedi, agitated again: WHAT Leia: Listen, I don't like him, but I'm not stupid enough to throw away the second most dangerous person in the universe when I can point him at the most dangerous person in the universe. Especially not if he's going to listen to me. Jedi: But... he's a Sith. Leia: Please trust me when I say this: you might be able to take him down eventually, but he will take dozens of you down with him, and right now he's... honestly, I'm pretty sure he's more depressed than malicious. Jedi: You hate him. I can feel it. Leia: Yes, but I can be professional about it. Vader: They have not yet d-- Leia: Nope! No talking! Not until I've had a chance to process this mess!

There is a whole lot of Leia snapping at Vader to stop it whenever he starts giving off vibes like he wants to take the most violent shortcut possible.

She is not the gentle hand that Luke would be.

Leia isn't a Jedi or working for them but she's wormed her way into being an ally. They don't 100% trust her, especially not with Vader just showing up and declaring her family but like

How do you say no to a WMD walking into your house and saying "I will fight the monster you cower from at night."

There's a lot of Leia snapping off an admonishment that sounds just a little too odd and then when questioned she just says "He knows what he did."

tbh I'm not sure how long it takes for them to tell anyone that Anakin is Vader. They might hold it off in hopes that Anakin can just retire to be Mr. Amidala after the war is over.

Well, Leia hopes. Vader just lets Leia make that call and then glowers at his younger self every time they're in the same room.

I do feel like Leia tells Obi-Wan the truth first

Imagine. Imagine a Vader who’s past still isn’t known. But has gotten somewhat comfortable around the Jedi (not really but the bar for what counts and comfortable for him is low). And Obi-Wan habitually banters with darksiders, right? If Vader’s guard is down for a moment and he, without thinking, references an inside joke...

Might be the most fun in terms of ways to tell Obi-Wan "We're time travelers and Vader is what happens if you let Palpatine drive Anakin off the edge"

If Vader has decided to pledge himself to her orders after destroying her planet, then fine. She can work with that. She's not going to be happy about it, but she can make it work.

The Jedi Temple hates having Vader anywhere nearby but he is actually very good at hiding himself from people, including Palpatine And for all that Leia seems perpetually irritated with her apparent bodyguard, he does seem to listen to her.

Jedi council: We still haven't figured out how to handle Dooku Leia: Do you know his location? Jedi council: Yes. Leia: [sigh] Leia: Vader, deal with it. Alive if possible.

(Leia does need to clarify an acceptable level of violence against the people protecting Dooku.) (She needs to clarify... many things.)

Leia always says "Vader" and one time a poor fool just asks why she doesn't call him dad and she snarls out "He is not the man that raised me, and I am glad for it."

Someone less foolish later prods more compassionately and she lets them know she was adopted and didn't properly meet Vader except in passing until she was nineteen.

"And then he tortured you." "And then he tortured me, yes." "Damn." "Didn't even find out we were related until a few years later when he chopped my brother's arm off." "You... wow." "I know."

At least one exchange that is L: You mean when you tortured me? A: He did what. V: I was not aware of our relation at that time. L: Not the point! I am fully aware of your interrogation methods and I refuse to let you be the one to acquire the evidence for-- A: Wait no go back he tortured you? L: Move on, please, we already have. A: That means I'm... oh Force, I'm going to torture my own daughter what in the actual fu-- L: We're moving on.

(“I end up torturing my own daughter” If Leia’s feeling especially spiteful I can see her saying “you mutilate your own son too”)

Concept: Leia is very free with traumatizing details of her past re:Vader and Anakin thinks that it sucks but doesn’t think much of it bc Sith. And then some time later he finds out...

(I love characters who use the traumatizing details of their past to shut down conversations.)

It's such a wonderfully horrifying concept for him to try to awkwardly comfort this girl he kind of knows because having a Sith for a dad sounds like it would suck and Leia seems nice, even if she's kind of weird and uncomfortable around Anakin, but he saw her flinch around a few other tall people wearing black robes the way she stiffens around Vader so maybe it's just that!

It is not.

Vader does get a significant amount of medical treatment. Including a bunch of "holy shit, that's a lot of drugs" and similar. There is so much lightning damage.

hnnng I'm just really in love with the image of Tiny Tiny Leia sitting behind a desk for some fancy negotiation, the picture of professionalism, while Vader just stands behind her shoulder, looming, glaring expressionless death at whoever came to speak with his baby girl.

Not that he would call her that, because she'd just hate him more and he's really not sure how to fix that problem, other than doing whatever she asks with no complaints and hoping she appreciates it.

Vader: [looks at children wandering by, has complicated emotions] Leia, tired of his shit: What now? Vader: I killed them, once. Leia, closing her eyes and taking a deep breath: And you're not going to do that again. No killing children. Vader: I know that. Leia: Great. I am... regretting asking. I am so very much regretting asking.

I do really like the idea of someone asking Leia once if she wants Jedi training and she says, no, actually, she's fully aware of the fact that she's angry little ball of hate sometimes, especially towards her bio father, and she'd like to refrain from putting herself in a position where she knows enough about the Force to Fall. She wouldn't Fall. But it does make people shut up.

#leia organa #princess leia #Darth Vader #Anakin Skywalker #obi wan kenobi #star wars #time travel #Phoenix Posts

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thedamageofherdays · 3 years

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This week's [23-08-2021 - 29-08-2021] reading log is here! I read a lot again this week and I feel like it's a lovely variety of fics. Most fics are Stucky like usual, but there's at least one other ship. I am constantly amazed by the talent people have in this fandom! There was one fic I read on Tumblr that I can't seem to find unfortunately, but when I do I'll make sure to reblog and rec it 💕

Favourites are marked with a 🌻

When life gives you lemons by moonthejedi394 @moonythejedi394 [Stucky, 40k words, Mature] (12/15 chapters available)

Or 13 Terrible Things to Do With Lemons Other Than Making Lemonade

Steve Rogers is a home health nurse. He works for an agency, which assigned him to the aging Winifred Barnes, the one and only Silent Era Hollywood darling. As her needs increased, she requested the agency assign Steve to her full-time. She could pay for it, so she got it. Steve then moved in with her, becoming her caregiver; he cooked, he cleaned, he managed her medications, he made sure she was comfortable.

Winifred's children treated him less than ideally. He was the help, after all. And then Steve had the audacity to go and turn out to be eldest son James Barnes's soulmate. No one saw that coming.

The Masseur and the Assassin by buckybarnesdeservestobehappy @buckybarnesdeservestobehappy [Stucky, 17k words, Explicit]

Bucky Barnes needed a vacation from his job. What he found was a happy ending.

The Words Breathe by buckbarnesdeservestobehappy [Stucky, 1k words, Mature]

All Steve has to do is keep his promise. When he doesn’t, Bucky gets mouthy.

Soft by this_wayward_life @wayward-lives [Stucky, 2k words, Explicit]

The last time he'd seen Bucky he'd looked unhealthy, with pallid skin and greasy, lanky hair. Now, Bucky shone; his hair was thick and silky, his skin a deep bronze from spending so much time outside. He was softer, too; the hard muscle that used to cover him was now replaced by soft fat, his body still strong, but in a more mundane way. His thighs were thicker, his ass plumper, and when he'd pulled Steve into the river Steve had noticed the pudge on his stomach.

Seeing Bucky so happy, well-fed and shining, was a bit of a kick in the face. For all the years they'd known each other, he'd never seen Bucky so... care-free. Now that Bucky was putting on weight, his middle soft and his body malleable, it sent a bolt of arousal through Steve every time he noticed the curves of Bucky's body.

Or: Bucky put on a bit of weight in Wakanda, and Steve is Not Coping.

🌻 Revive Another Side of Me by dontcallmebree @iamthe-wo-manwhocan [Stucky, 1k words, Mature]

Steve’s never lived in a world without Bucky, and he’s not living now. It takes them a while, much too long, to get that awaited rest, a little slice of peace after the dust has settled.Steve Rogers and Bucky Barnes are inseparable, history remembers. But they’re not men of the past quite yet.

🌻 imagine being loved by me by spacebuck @spacebuck [Stucky, 20k words, Explicit]

Just after 1am - a few hours after he posted today’s photo - he hears the tell-tale sound of a twitter message. Bucky grabs his phone, not checking who it’s from as he opens it because it’s probably one of his mutuals yelling at him as per usual. When he actually looks at his phone, though, it’s not Natasha

The ‘verified’ check stares back at him for a long moment before he can even bring himself to process the name on his screen. Steve Rogers is messaging him. Or, he reasons, a very good fake. The handle looks right though, not that Bucky knows. Not that Bucky has Captain’s America’s tweets set up as notifications, or that Bucky’s own display name is set to captain america’s bitch. Not at all.

Hey, the first message says. It’s Steve.

🌻 JB’s Complete Lube Services by dixons_mama @dixons-mama [Stucky, 3k words, Explicit]

People just didn’t approach Captain America and proposition him. Although, sometimes Steve wished they would; even the pinnacle of virtue and justice needed to get dicked down from time to time.

Or, the one where Steve has the hots for a mechanic and decides to be proactive in getting that dick.

If it had to be someone by rainbow_nerds [Stucky, 1k words, Mature]

Bucky had known since he was a child that he didn’t have a choice in who he married, but he’d thought he had more time before the day arrived.

Miscalculations by christywantspizza @christywantspizza [Ransom Drysdale/Reader, 6k words, Explicit]

Ransom tries to get you to sleep with him by less than honorable means. You give him what he wants, just not how he wants it.

How to Seduce a Writer by obsessivereader [Stucky, 2k words, Teen]

What's a determined master strategist going to do when the oblivious writer he's trying to woo keeps missing all the clues?

He doesn’t think it’s because he hadn’t signaled his own interest to Bucky. He’s pretty much done everything short of hitting Bucky over the head with semaphore flags by this point. There’s no way Bucky could’ve missed them. Unless… There’d been that one link he’d stumbled upon when he’d googled ‘how to talk to a writer’. It’d been written by a writer, who’d been candid about how oblivious writers could be, and how someone could go about seducing one. An idea starts to form. It’s ridiculous, but at this point, he’s willing to go with ridiculous, since subtle wasn’t getting him anywhere.

🌻 Pod Bless America by Deisderium @deisderium [Stucky, 6k words, Teen]

Bucky can't believe his favorite podficcer recorded his newest fanfic AU of the show Commandos. He's even more surprised when the customer who busts him listening to fic while he's working in the office supply store turns out to be that podficcer.

* The guy—maybe bi_shield?—took his phone, looked down at the screen, and smiled. "Yeah, that one's mine," he said with no evidence of embarrassment. "It was a good one." He handed the phone back to Bucky.

"I wrote it," Bucky croaked.

take a bite by wearing_tearing [Stucky, 7k words, Mature]

"I’d never let anyone freeze to death.” Steve gives a big sigh and flutters his lashes. “All that blood gone to waste.”

Bucky’s lips turn down and his nose scrunches up a little. “I want to be grossed out, but…”

“But you get it.” Steve gives him a pointed look. “Vampires aren’t the only ones who can appreciate how juicy blood is.”

Or: Vampire Steve saves newly-turned werewolf Bucky from a snowstorm.

Leaving the Shield Behind by BuckyAboveEverything [Stucky, 6k words, Teen]

“So, on one hand, we have Steve Rogers - hunk, genius, animal lover. Buys you waffles and overpriced coffee. 100% wholesome all-American boy.”

“And, on the other hand, we have Capsicle – twink, smart-ass, fanboy. Reads your stories and sends you fanart. Possibly a pervert or a serial killer.”

Bucky groaned.

“I am 100% certain I am 0% sure of what to do."

Bucky Barnes, full-time copywriter and free-time fanfic writer, struggles to choose between two equally-attractive suitors, only to find that he doesn’t have to after all.

* Based on a true story *

Cap's Book Corner by Neche [Stucky, 2k words, Teen]

Recluse Author Bucky Barns stumbles into fanboy Steve Rogers bookstore one day...

Cat Nap by galwednesday @galwednesday [Stucky, 8k words, Teen]

Objectively, losing the Bucharest safehouse and its contents was the least of Bucky’s problems. The balding agent he’d seen directing the raid was apparently affiliated with SHIELD, which was a shadowy government agency that made representatives from other shadowy government agencies suddenly remember urgent appointments when Bucky tried to bribe, threaten, and otherwise shake them down for information on what the hell SHIELD might want with a former brainwashed assassin. Dodging SHIELD should be his number one priority.

Subjectively, he wanted his fucking cat back.

at any given moment by honeypuffed [Stucky, 1k words, Teen]

Steve and Bucky find out that everyone thinks they're sleeping together.

Brought to Brightness by eyres [Stucky, 10k words, Teen]

Army veteran Bucky Barnes has fallen in love with Steve, a guy he met online a few months after he returned from Afghanistan. Only problem is, he doesn't know Steve's last name or even what he looks like.

When his sister helps him send his story into MTV's Catfish, he's hoping they can help him meet Steve or, at least, let him move on with his life if Steve isn't real. Little does he know, Steve and Captain America have more in common than just a first name.

🌻 Nokken Wood by leveragehunters @leveragehunters [Stucky, 10k words, Teen]

When Sam's friend needs a house-sitter for his place in the country, Steve jumps at the chance. Six months rent-free to do nothing but draw and paint and wander the countryside, looking for inspiration? It was like a dream. But when he gets lost in a storm and nearly falls into a pond he starts to rethink the whole like a dream aspect of life in the country. And when a red-eyed, sharp-clawed, silver-fanged creature rises out of the darkness, Steve is one hundred percent certain the dream's morphed into a nightmare.

...until it gives him a cup of tea.

(Inspired partly by this prompt a supernatural creature is supposed to scare you but instead it gives you a cup of tea and a blanket because you're having a bad day and you keep coming back and partly by this painting.)

Professional Pride by galwednesday [Stucky, 700 words, Teen]

Bucky is having a very good day, until he turns around and finds himself face-to-face with Captain America.

“Oh shit,” he blurts before he can stop himself, and Captain America blinks at him. “Hey, hi, I didn’t expect to see you here.” Here, at New York’s Pride parade, surrounded by thousands of happy screaming people wearing rainbows and sometimes not much else. What is he doing here? Is he on guard duty or something? Was he just on a mission and happened to be passing by on his way back?

He’s in uniform but with the cowl loose around his neck, so when he rubs the back of his head it fluffs up his matted hair. “I, uh. I saw one of your–temporary tattoos?” Captain fucking America says, like it’s a question.

The A-bridged Guide to Trolling by galwednesday [Stucky, 1k words, Teen]

“I don’t have any money.”

Oh no, now the girl looked upset. Her eyes were huge and her lip was wobbling. Bucky tried to think fast despite the oh shit oh shit oh shit looping through his head.

“That’s okay,” Bucky said gently. “I don’t need money. We can figure out another kind of toll.”

The girl frowned at him. “Like what?”

Bucky scratched his head, trying to think of something a kid was certain to have on hand. “Do you know any jokes?”

(Fantasy AU in which Steve is a hedge witch with a green thumb, Bucky is a bridge troll who's new in town, and knock-knock jokes are a viable form of currency.)

It's a bittersweet ending (if you know what I mean) by relenafanel [Stucky, 1k words, Teen]

“I’ll see you around, Steve,” Bucky answers with a smirk, moving away from the counter with a wink.

Steve watches him go. Bucky’s wearing a pair of skinny jeans coated in something to give the appearance of leather. It’s impossible to not watch him go.

stuck on you by wearing_tearing [Stucky, 5k words, Teen]

“Bucky? You don’t look so hot.”

Bucky makes a tiny little sound in the back of his throat, only to start coughing. Of course he doesn’t look hot. He’s sick and he’s dying and Steve obviously isn’t attracted to him.

Decision-Making in Relationships (Paid Research Opportunity!) by castiowl [Stucky, 8k words, Teen]

Clint looked thoughtfully at the flyer. “I guess your actual roommate wouldn’t be down with it?”

Bucky frowned. “Have you met Steve Rogers?”

no way out but through by hollimichele [Stucky, 9k words, Teen]

Steve never sees it coming.

you got blood on your hands (and i know it's mine) by nighimpossible [Stucky, 3k words, Teen]

Bucky refuses to see Steve after his deprogramming.

Like What You See by daisymondays [Stucky, 8k words, Teen]

For all the time Bucky’s spent fantasizing about meeting Captain America, he’d never imagined it would be while posing nude in front of a drawing class.

🌻 A Real Boy by itsnotbleak [Stucky, 5k words, Teen]

It took the Winter Soldier three weeks to remember that human beings needed to sleep and eat.

It took Steve far too long to realise the Winter Soldier was sleeping in his bed.

Amapola by chaya [Stucky, 830 words, Teen]

Total fluff. Bucky's recovering nicely. Steve's oblivious. Sometimes it's best to set aside subtlety for action.

Knocking Boots With Sugar by buckybarnesdeservestobehappy [Stucky, 4k words, Explicit]

In between summers at college, Steve Rogers wants a new adventure beyond his lonely life in Brooklyn. He ends up in West Texas working on a dude ranch where Bucky Barnes is a long-time employee. When Bucky offers to buy Steve a drink, they end up drunk on tequila and making out in public. For the rest of the summer, they're inseparable. As the summer draws to a close, Steve realizes he doesn't want to leave.

Rogers and Associate by roe87 @jro616 [Stucky, 7k words, Teen]

When they first meet, Bucky is a hooker and Steve is a cop. She's been arrested, but Steve lets her off.

Years pass and they maintain a casual friendship, seeing each other out on the streets most nights.

Though he later makes detective, Steve loses faith in the system and quits his job.

He wants to set up as a private investigator, and he asks Bucky if she'd be his assistant.

Just in time by rainbow_nerds [Stucky, 1k words, Mature]

Bucky knew the apartment he was renting was old fashioned, but walking in the front door and finding himself transported back to 1938 was not on the list of things he had prepared himself for.

🌻 You Like What's in My Head by dontcallmebree [Stucky, 15k words, Explicit] (with art by @kocuria)

Bucky can’t decide if Steve’s a tough nut to crack or incredibly easy. The timbre of his voice, a low and almost amused, “Sure, kid,” when Bucky asks for a drink feels like something gripping him on the back of his neck.

He thinks this might be one of those moments in life he’ll pinpoint in the future and either curse at for dooming himself, or remember fondly with pride.

He’s right. Bucky Barnes blunders through falling in love with Commander Rogers and tries to find a deeper meaning behind the expensive gifts and thorough fucking.

Can I Sit Here? by BuckyFrickenBarnes [Stucky, 962 words, General]

Bucky has unusual methods for getting rid of his writer's block.

Or, Bucky needs that table.

Workplace Romance by BuckyFricken Barnes [Stucky, 1k words, General]

Bucky is under the impression that his boss hates him.

Or,

Steve needs to get better at dealing with his feelings.

🌻 1-800-MAYTAG by Miss Plum @misspluckyplum [Stucky, 1k words, Explicit]

Bucky just wants to get some housework done. It gets out of hand fast. Silly little fluff and smut romp with snarky stucky boys.

Eyes of the Forest by Lordelannette [Stucky, 7k words, Explicit] (2/8 chapters available)

When Omega Bucky Barnes comes to Eagle Lake, it was in search of wolves, a creature that had not been seen in the area for decades.

What he finds instead is Steve Rogers, a handsome, though quiet Alpha who seems to be everywhere in the forest.

#r's reading log #my reading log #fic rec #stucky #stucky fic rec #fic recs #stevebucky #long post

105 notes · View notes

roger-that-cap · 4 years

Text

cardigan

natasha romanoff x f!reader

word count: 8.9k (haha)

warnings: swearing, cheating!natasha, sad!reader, uhm this is angsty for me, asshole!natasha, sort of asshole!team, more angst, sort of happy ending sort of, secrets™️

this is inspired by taylor swift’s cardigan. folklore and evermore are really getting me through this i swear

obviously i do not own this song, picture, or any of the warped lyrics that i attempted to slide in as creatively possible :) this is also my first one shot and my first reader insert ever- i tried to not go into any physical details about miss y/n but i hope y’all like it!

No editor. All mistakes are 100% mine!

You couldn’t have been any more excited to see Natasha. She had been gone for what felt like forever on a mission with Steve, Bucky, and some agent that was on her first big mission, a girl that you recalled to be named Abigail. Regardless of what her name was, they were all heading home today after so long, nearly two months.

There was no telling how much you were ready for the return of your fiancée. The two of you had promised to get married nine months ago, and you were already deep into planning. You were going to your dress appointment at Kleinfeld’s (your literal childhood wish) in two days. You had the venue picked, the table accessories done, the seating chart already filled out and sitting pretty in laminated sheets in a binder. The day was going to be perfect, and it was what you and Natasha deserved after so long. Especially Natasha, after every single thing that she had been through just to save the world and to help those who weren’t able to help themselves.

Natasha was your angel.

Your heart was racing in your chest as you waited for the quinjet to land, the ring feeling light on your left finger as you rolled back and forth on your feet. You couldn’t hold back a toothy grin as you waited for them to fly back in, and to hug Natasha again. That was the most important part. To have her back in your arms so that you could do things like stay in together for the weekend and stay holed up in their room just doing innocent things, like counting each other’s heartbeats.

You stood with your hands clasped in front of your body as they landed, a dopey grin on your face and the same nervous glint in your eye that was there every time that you waited for your fiancée to come back home. You knew that Natasha would always find her way back to you, but there was no telling what condition she would be in.

The moment the doors opened, Abigail ran through them, and down the ramps nearly knocking you over. You reached your arms out to steady the other girl, who looked like she was about to burst into tears at any second. As much as you wanted to just hug Natasha and go home after you ate and sleep in bed with her, you couldn’t leave a girl in tears like that without checking on her. “Woah, are you okay, sweetie?”

The girl’s bottom lip jutted out, like she was about to cry just because of you asking the question. She didn’t say anything, but she was obviously falling apart from the inside, and it made you more than mildly concerned. You didn’t like to see anyone cry, let alone a girl who had just come back from her first big mission. “I’m fine.” Her voice cracked.

“Are you sure?” You were no medic or super soldier or even assassin-spy, but you were nothing if not rational and sympathetic. You were so in tune to the poor girl that you didn’t feel the palpable awkwardness of everyone else who walked off of the quinjet, almost all of them cringing. “Do you need to talk to someone?”

“I- I’m sorry,” Abigail said, and she was running away from you faster than you had ever seen anyone run before.

You frowned as you watched her run. “I hope she’s alright, poor thing. I can’t imagine how a first mission feels,” you murmured, turning around and seeing the slightly spooked eyes of the rest of the team. You smiled at them cautiously and walked over to Natasha, arms already raised as you went to embrace her tightly. You breathed in and put your face in her neck, nearly crying tears of joy as you smelled her shampoo, a rich scent that meant the safety and comfort of them both. “I’m so glad you’re alright.”

You were so happy to hold your fiancée again that you almost didn’t notice how standoffish she was being, and her lack of enthusiasm. She had never been not enthusiastic to see you, especially after going so long without seeing each other. After too long of her not reacting to your warm embrace by kissing your hair or murmuring her usual missed you, princessa, you pulled away and looked at her, a questioning look on your face. “Are you okay, my love?”

Natasha stepped back, not looking you in the eyes and choosing to just smooth out the sleeves of her combat attire, eyes on the floor. That was very unlike her. Something must have gone terribly wrong. “I just want to get home.”

Your vibe visibly deteriorated. It was obvious that Natasha had just popped your bubble and left it as an empty shell, but you were still smiling anyway. Like you always did. “Okay, Nat. We can do that.” You reached out for Natasha’s hand and grabbed it after waving goodbye to the other team members, who all looked either extremely displeased or like they had been caught doing something very awkward.

You walked back to your part of the tower together in silence that wasn’t characteristic of the two of you. You were a known chatterbox, happy and always starting meaningful conversations, but also one of the best listeners to ever grace the earth. Natasha liked to listen, too, and she had the best words and the best voice to listen to. One of them was always talking. The silence between them was almost haunting.

Natasha went straight into the shower. She didn’t offer for you to go in with her, which was what the two of you always did after a mission. You got to see Natasha at her most vulnerable, and Natasha was finally allowed to let down the shroud of strength that only lasted for so long without being damaging. It was the thing that kept you close and often the action that got Natasha to open up about what happened and how she truly felt. Natasha skipping out on that time hurt you and made you expect the worst.

She turned the lights off the minute that she was out of the shower, not speaking to you or even offering any physical assurance, which was something that Natasha knew that you needed after she came home.

You just prayed that she would be ready to talk in the morning.

§§§

Natasha wasn’t there when you woke up. You frowned and patted the empty spot in the bed beside you even though you knew that she was probably at the gym or running around doing errands. You sighed and crawled out of bed, doing the daily routine that you usually did with Natasha, and leaving the room to go make some breakfast.

There were whispers that hissed like snakes when you came around the corner, and they came to a screeching halt when you bounced into the room. You grinned at everyone sitting or standing in the kitchen, ignoring their deer-in-headlights looks and searching for the woman you were set to get married to. You frowned a bit when there was no sign of her.

“Good morning!” You hummed out anyways, going towards the pantry once you saw that no one had made food yet. Because you were staying there and you had no other skills, you had been the one to take up personal chef for the entire team just to pull some weight, even though they insisted that you didn’t need to do a thing. As long as you “kept Nat happy”, they said.

It took a second for any of them to respond. “Good morning,” Steve said, his voice oddly clinical for the way he usual greeted you. He was the morning person of the bunch, and probably your closest friend other than Wanda.

You took the supplies out of the pantry with a thoughtful look on your face. “I’m not trying to pry,” you started softly, back still towards them as you started with the pancake mix. “But, was the mission bad?” No one spoke for a few heavy moments.

“We succeeded,” Bucky finally stated vaguely, his voice floating through the room.

You never the type to spill all of your personal business to people, but these people weren’t just anyone. These were your closest friends, the people who were going to be in the wedding, either in one bridal party or the other’s. “Nat’s not talking to me,” you sighed out, and turned around to see all of them stiff as boards. “Was it hard for her?”

No one said anything.

You pursed your lips and turned your back to them again, looking away from them to gathered your thoughts for a second. You took in a deep breath and told yourself not to pry, not to think about what Natasha would surely tell you when she was ready. You turned your head and gave them your trademark grin. “Who wants blueberries in their pancakes?”

§§§

You sat in your shared room after a full day of Natasha blatantly ignoring and avoiding you. You were patient, because that was what you had to be to date an Avenger, but Natasha had never straight up ignored you before. You learned very quickly that it called for a different type of patience than the one you were used to.

In the kitchen when she was forced to be present after you cooked a huge welcome home meal, she didn’t hug on you or kiss your cheek or even look you in the eyes. It wasn’t like her. You came to the tough conclusion that it wasn’t because of the mission, because she had never done that before, not even after the one where the children were caught in the crossfire. You were always the one that she talked to, no matter what.

The lamp light was the only light on in the room, because you knew that Natasha liked it better that way. Maybe less light would make her open up a bit, and the two of you would finally see eye to eye after the annoying stalemate that felt eternal.

You didn’t know how long Natasha would take come back and speak, but you knew that it wouldn’t be too long. Natasha liked to talk, and she had said multiple times that she liked to talk to you the most. It would be any time, right? That’s what you thought until the hours crept by, and you saw and heard no sign of anything. Not even the ding of an elevator or the shutting of a door, or her soft footsteps that she made on purpose because her natural steps were so quiet that she scared you when she appeared.

When Natasha finally came in, it was late in the night, morning time. Three in the morning, to be exact. You shook off your nerves and smiled at her, and the smile wasn’t returned as much as it should have been. “Hi,” you said, almost a little star struck by finally seeing her. It brought you back to the time you didn’t truly know her.

You had always admired Natasha. Not even because of her being Black Widow, but because she was Natasha Romanoff, an enemy spy and assassin turned good. And it brought you pure joy knowing that you would soon be taking on her last name, which you secretly thought of as your greatest achievement. Natasha was the one you wanted with for life, and you were steps closer.

You waited to hear Natasha’s voice. You waited in anticipation for her to run to you and start to spill immediately. You were waiting to wipe her tears and assure her that it wasn’t her fault, and that she couldn’t have done anything differently. “Hi.”

You frowned. Confusion flooded your senses at the short greeting. “Huh?”

“Why are you up?” Her tone sounded almost accusatory, like she had caught you doing something that you weren’t supposed to do, like you were intruding on her time. The frown on your face turned into a slight scowl, and then you reminded yourself that patience was key with Natasha.

“I’m allowed to wait up for my future wife,” you teased, but the look in your eye was serious. You could see how the red head lingered at the doorway, like she was trying to decide whether to bolt or leave with grace. You weren’t going to give her enough time to make the decision. Come sit, please.” When Natasha didn’t move an inch, your facial expression fell. “Please.”

Natasha walked over to the bed slowly, like she was being forced to move or die. You shook your head side to side, eyeing her up and down like the answer to the problem that you didn’t know yet was written on her body somewhere. “I’m here,” she said quietly, like a distant whisper.

“Are you really?” You asked quietly, and it felt like your voice echoed like the beating of drums in the nearly silent room. “Can you please tell me what’s going on?”

“Nothing happened.”

You knew that you shouldn’t pry. You both hated prying, but you were also both naturally transparent. You two had never truly had to pry with each other before. The truth was, you didn’t know how far you could push until she snapped on you. “Are you sure?”

Like someone had flipped a switch, a small smile lit up on Natasha’s face. It wasn’t much, but it was enough to sate you for a while. “Yes, princessa. I’m very sure. I’m tired.”

That was all it took. All it took was Natasha muttering the sweet nickname to you, and it was all as good as talked about. You could rest for a moment.

“Then we can go to bed, my love.” You reached out to touch Natasha’s face, loving the familiar feeling of her soft skin. “You know, you don’t ever have to be afraid to tell me anything, Nattie.”

You stared at Natasha for a while, just admiring her face and everything about it, almost missing the way that she didn’t do it back. This was something that you two did nearly every night before going to sleep- you just watched each other. A slow, dopey grin slid onto your face, and then you leaned forward and pressed a kiss to her nose, then her cheek, and then to her pink lips in a soft yet passionate kiss, as soft as rose petals.

You pulled away and smiled at her with your eyes closed, nuzzling your face into her neck. You took in a deep breath, inhaling her sweet smell and feeling the comfort was over you like waves in the ocean. You could have told her a thousand things in that instant, but they all revolves around one master idea. “I love you so much, Natasha.”

You brushed a red strand of hair out of her face before reaching up to kiss her forehead, and then you were back in her neck, trying to sleep.

There was no response, just Natasha’s arm’s getting tighter around you and squeezing three times, each harder and shakier than the last. That was all it took for you to fall asleep.

When you woke up the next morning, you recalled having a dream that featured a woman crying, the sound distant yet close.

§§§

You had a feeling that Natasha was going to do the exact same thing that she did the first time, and you assumed correctly. You took it in stride this time and went to the flower store to pick out your bouquet that you would walk with, and probably throw. It was something that you wanted to do on your own, anyway. Like most brides, you didn’t want your future spouse seeing anything that you were going to be wearing until the big day. Not even the veil or the flowers that you would be carrying.

“That’s gorgeous!” You grinned at the employee, who mirrored your excited look. “That’s perfect, she’ll love it.”

While you gushed about your flowers, you also wondered if Natasha was doing a bouquet, too. You hoped that she had someone that would help her out with it, maybe Sharon or Wanda. Natasha wasn’t really big on the planning of the wedding. In fact, she wanted it much smaller than it was going to be, but you had convinced her to do it your way. Maybe it was your natural charm that helped you swindle the spy, or perhaps it was because she just secretely wanted the same thing.

As you walked away from the flower shop after placing the order, you walked by the busy donut shop that Natasha loved going to. Usually, it would be Natasha that stopped by and brought you some donuts, but maybe the other way around would be enough to make the red headed woman smile a bit. You stopped for a second and then didn’t hesitate to go in, pulling out a couple dollars for a tip, too.

Natasha loved chocolate donuts, even though she tried to resist eating them. You liked glazed better, but it was alright. You’d buy chocolate for her. You had hope that they would get Natasha to open up just a little, as dumb as it sounded. But a bribe never went wrong, and what was the harm in donuts?

“Thank you, Sarah,” you said after you got the box of donuts, walking out of the sweet smelling shop and down the street towards the tower.

When you got back, it was loud. It usually was pretty loud, with everyone and everything going on, but this was a different type of loud. It wasn’t the tinkering of metal in the lab or the sounds of sparring or elevators going up and down. It was shouting. A full on shouting match that was loud enough to be heard from floors down was happening. You nearly dropped the box of donuts as you hurriedly pressed the level that you and Natasha stayed on, hoping to find her in the room and out of the fight. The ride up the elevator was almost too full of anticipation as you waited in what would have been silence, if not for the yelling.

“No, because you can’t control yourself!” The voice was now obviously Steve’s. You were shocked. You had never heard Steve so riled up, ever. It was out of character for him to be so angry at someone, even if that particular someone fucked up royally. “You did something stupid, and now you’ll own up to it. Simple.”

“I fucking can’t!” You frowned. That was without a doubt Natasha. “I can’t, not right now. So fuck off.”

“I can’t fuck off after you’ve done something like this, Romanoff.” You winced as the elevator doors opened. Steve didn’t use Natasha’s last name anymore, not since they got close. And he certainly didn’t use the f-bomb much. “This is… it’s beyond-”

“What happened?” You shoved the donuts into Sam’s waiting hands, which were open for business when he saw you coming out of the elevator. “What’s all the yelling for?”

Everyone was staring at you like you were a ghost that wasn’t supposed to show up even though they had called on you. No one had an immediate answer, and so you put your hands on your hips. “Is everything okay?”

Tony looked at Natasha with sharp eyes and took a step back, raising his palms. “On you.”

It took a second for Natasha to say anything to you, and it was clear that everyone was waiting for something. It was even more clear that everyone was equally pissed at Natasha, for whatever reason.

“Everything is just fine, princessa.” Natasha’s voice carried over to your ears, smooth as honey, even though she wasn’t looking up into your eyes. “Don’t worry.”

You didn’t really believe it. How could you? She wasn’t talking to you, she wasn’t lying with you, she wasn’t counting your heartbeats like you did with her. There was something wrong, something had to be for Steve to be yelling like that, in front of everyone else. You eyed Natasha for a few extra seconds and then took the donuts back, muttering a thanks to Sam.

“Alright.” As if seeing the box made you remember why you went out in the first place, your trademark grin was back. “I ordered my bouquet today,” you hummed, walking up to Natasha and planting a kiss on her lips. When you pulled away, you murmured the customary I love you under your breath, like you two did every time you kissed. The one who initiated the kiss would say it first, and it would be answered by a quick “always”.

“A-always. Oh?” You realized that Natasha’s voice fluttered when she said it.

“Yeah, you can’t see which one, though.” You winked at her playfully, trying to ignore the way that the others looked mildly uncomfortable. You were used to uncomfortable looks, but never from them. You knew that it wasn’t homophobia, because they were never that way. So their behavior ran deeper than that. What the fuck happened? “My dress appointment is tomorrow.”

“Yeah.”

You were too busy getting a donut from the box to see the looks that everyone else shared when you spoke again. “How’s the girl who went on the mission with you? She seemed a little upset when you guys came back.”

Natasha’s hair nearly bounced with how high she shot up, her body going straight at the mention of the other girl. She looked away from your eyes for a split second, and then back. “Fine.”

You wiped your mouth with the back of your hand, eyes on Natasha. “Is she good with fashion? Maybe seeing dresses and all that would make her feel a little better.”

Natasha looked horrified as she realized what you were insinuating. “No. No, she’s fine. She doesn’t need to be invited anywhere.”

“It’s just to sit and watch me try on dresses. Wanda, Sharon, and Pepper are going, right?” You looked towards Tony to confirm, and he nodded his head firmly before looking at Natasha again, a serious look in his eyes. “Maybe Abigail can go.”

“No. She’s not going.” There was something in Natasha’s tone that sounded so final, so adamant, that you knew in your heart to just drop it. It saved you both in that moment.

That didn’t mean that you weren’t allowed to make a face of disapproval. “That’s not nice at all, Nattie. I hope you weren’t the reason she was crying. You’re known to be a little mean.”

Natasha looked away from you, taking a step back. Her eyebrow was twitching, a sign of stress that you picked up on like it was your own. “I have to go.”

“Wait, I got these for-” Natasha left in a hurry, so fast that you barely even registered that she had left. She left awkwardness in her absence. “Well, she can eat them later. Feel free to have some, guys, just save one or two for her, okay?”

They were all quiet for a few seconds, like they were in the midst of a special moment where they were all feeling the same thing, everyone in the room except for you. Finally, Wanda spoke. “Okay, Y/N.” You smiled at them, gave them all sweet hugs, and left.

§§§

You were bursting at the seams at being seen for a dress appointment at Kleinfeld’s. Wanda was with you, and so were Sharon and Pepper. They were excited for you, but no one matched your energy.

You were a girl finally getting what she had been dreaming of her whole life; to get married in a beautiful dress to the person she loved. You would soon be walking down the isle to see Natasha waiting for you, flanked by everyone else that was ever important to them.

You must have been the luckiest woman in the world.

“You’re really excited,” Sharon mused, but it was more of an observation than a statement.

“I’m so excited,” you confirmed. “I’m marrying the love of my life in what’s going to be my dream dress, I know it.” You grinned as the four of you watched people bustling around the shop. There was a bride near tears, just like on the TV episodes, and you watched fondly. Seeing people get what they wanted made you happy.

The search for the perfect dress went nothing less than perfectly. Within the first two sweeps, you managed to get into a dress that everyone thought was perfect for you, and you loved it, too. It even brought the three out of the haze that they were in, out of focus and minds so far gone that your excited squeals were all that broke them out of their thoughts.

“It’s gorgeous, Y/N.” Pepper said, her voice soft and cautious as they walked up to pay. It was silent as you waited for an attendant to come to the counter and check you out.

“I- I think there’s something you should know.” The other girls’ head whipped Pepper’s way, and she gave them a look that told them that she wasn’t going to back down from whatever she had to say.

You had what felt like a permanent grin on your face as you thought about the dress. It was a dramatic ball gown, blush pink and flowy. You were almost as in love with it as you were with Natasha, and the matching heels that you got and the gorgeous veil that matched topped it all off. You and your soon to be bridal party walked out into the crisp air, and you turned your head towards Pepper. “Sure, what is it?”

There were a few beats of silence. “Let’s go sit in the car,” Pepper insisted, and so they walked back to the car that Happy was driving for them, where he was sitting with the partition rolled down. He gave them a half assed greeting before they all piled in. “Can I start off with saying that… I’m sorry if you feel like any of us betrayed you.”

You trusted them all with your life, but that didn’t stop your heart from starting to race at the words Pepper said. Whatever this announcement was, it wasn’t good at all. “What?” When no one said anything, you laughed a little. “What, is the dress actually ugly and you didn’t say anything while we were in there? Do I need to go back?”

“No, the dress is beautiful.” The other girls nodded, and then you were sure of yourself and your taste again. “It’s just… Abigail.”

You frowned a bit, immediately thinking of the tragic scene where the girl rushed out of the quintet, breaking down by the second. “Oh, poor thing. Is she not doing as well as they say she is? I know a first big mission can be tough.”

There was a thick silence before Sharon blurted it out. “I am so, so sorry.” You leaned forward, heart skipping a few beats while Sharon took in a deep breath. You knew that some kind of blow was coming just by her apology, and you were bracing for it. “Natasha and Abigail had an affair on the mission.”

In the movies, it was like an instant shattering of the heart when news was broken like that. Immediate tears, automatic screaming and cursing and wanting to call up the other person to threaten them. There was lashing out, the breaking of glass, all the cinematic things that made actors on screen look better and less awkward when they broke down. You always thought that they were overreacting.

Now you knew that they weren’t. You felt that way on the inside. Your mind was raging like a hurricane and a tornado all at once, one disaster coming from the east and the other from the west. Your anger was the tornado, whipping around and threatening to destroy everything in your path and lash out at every single damn person in that car. But just like a tornado, you wore out and disbanded, all in your head. All that was left was the hurricane. The sadness. The disappointment. The heartbreak.

You had never even entertained the thought of how you would be after getting betrayed by her, but if you had, you probably would have imagined that the tornado would have acted first. But it didn’t. Unlike in the movies, all you did was tilt your head to the side and ask for the words to be repeated, even though you didn’t even listen for a second. You couldn’t believe it. Not Natasha. Not your Natasha. Not your angel.

“Natasha and Abigail slept with each other on multiple occasions on the mission, by word of Steve,” Sharon pointed out, her voice similar to the way a doctor sounded while delivering bad news, only a little shakier. “Abigail ran out crying because she fell in love with Natasha and knew that it would never really happen, not because she ruined the mission.”

Not only had Natasha slept with another person, but she had somehow convinced the girl that they were going to be together. Natasha didn’t have a ring, and the girl was new. There was no way she would have known that you two were together unless someone explicitly told her, and there were better things to do on a mission. It wasn’t her fault. Even if she had known, it wasn’t Abigail’s fault. Natasha Romanoff knew better. She knew a thousand times better.

“I don’t think either of them meant for it to happen,” Pepper said, immediately trying to calm you down, even though you hadn’t even spoken an angry word yet, and you looked like you weren’t even close to shouting.

The distinct sound of the partition rolling up was what brought you back to the present.

“But it did happen,” you said slowly, not even realizing that your teeth were gritted. “It happened.”

You couldn’t believe it. You didn’t want to, you wanted to believe it was a lie and calmly confront Natasha, but Steve was the one who had said it, and Steve didn’t lie. Why hadn’t he told you before?

Now that you knew what went on during the mission, you could see that everyone was acting weird. Everyone knew, there was no question about it. Which meant that everyone knew, and no one told you. They didn’t even hint toward anything, and they knew that you were supposed to be marrying the woman who went behind your back and did the unforgivable multiple times.

“We- we’re supposed to be getting married.” The pitiful sentence was all that you could string together in a thought as you looked out of the window at the traffic. You wished that the cars would just go, fly around so that you could cry by yourself. “I don’t even know what to say.” There were a million things happening in your mind at once, and trying not to cry in front of everyone was the biggest effort.

“I’m sorry,” Sharon’s voice said, and she really did sound apologetic. But it wasn’t enough in the moment. You wanted to hear Natasha say it, if all was true. But you knew it was. “We’re all sorry. We were waiting for Romanoff to own up to what she did.” Sharon said, obviously trying not to feel the wrath of you that was surely bubbling beneath the surface.

You could have been angry towards them. You knew that you felt betrayed, by everyone that knew and chose not to speak, that was a no-brainer. You could have been a lot of things at the moment, but there were bigger fish to fry. You clenched your fists and looked at the window, blinking rapidly as you grappled for composure. “Don’t apologize, you didn’t do anything.”

“I don’t think you-”

“I get it. It’s alright. I just prefer not to speak right now, ‘s all.” And conversation ended. But that was when the turmoil in your head and heart started to crank up the energy.

Your first instinct was to bust in there and look for the Black Widow herself, to yell until you lost your voice. Your first instinct was to cause a scene and embarrass her as much as Natasha did to you. You couldn’t believe she had gotten everyone to lie for her. You couldn’t believe that she had an obvious affair with a new agent. You couldn’t believe that you walked around thinking that nothing was wrong while everyone else pitied you behind your back.

Unfortunately, you were quite used to not being enough. Not enough to make it into ivy leagues, not enough to make the track team, not having enough to afford to buy all of your clothes without cringing and thinking about putting some items back. But you were never going to be used to not being enough for Natasha Romanov.

The drive back was the most awkward drive that the four of them had ever been on, without question. You had tears streaming down your face but you were still as silent as the night, just like everyone else. You hardly ever cried. You were always the ray of sunshine and rationality in the tower, and now everything positive had been blown out by the darkness that Natasha created.

When everyone got out of the car, it was sluggishly. Everyone knew what was bound to happen, but it was questionable whether or not the end of the blow out was going to result in settlement or people storming and and leaving. You already knew how it would end.

The second that the elevator landed on you and Natasha’s floor, you shakily thanked the girls for their honesty and walked right out, knowing that it was probably the last time that you would ever be going up in Stark Tower. In your angry fantasy about confronting your fiancée, you imagined storming in and shouting her name, getting her attention and then breaking her down into pieces like the words did to you in the car.

But once you were in your room, you found that the fantasies were just that, and you couldn’t say a word or do a thing but find your suitcase and pack, all the fire leaving your body the second that you saw your room.

You were halfway through gathering everything that was yours in the room that you and Natasha shared, tears streaming down steadily, when you registered that it was real. Natasha had really done the unimaginable, and there was no turning back. A small sob escaped your throat when you saw the sweater you had gotten Natasha hanging up in the closet, the same one that she wore when she got down on one knee for you. Did that mean nothing, too? Was the meaning and emotion of that and everything that led up to it blown to smithereens by something as trivial as two months?

The door flung open. “What are you doing?”

“Don’t talk to me.” You blurted, turning your head to not look at Natasha, trying to avoid her blue gaze. If you looked, you had no doubts that you would turn to stone, and that you would never find the strength to leave the woman who you loved the most and hurt you the most, all within three minutes.

Natasha looked bewildered by the suitcase on the bed. “Are you- are you leaving?”

“What the hell else am I supposed to do?” The temper that was kept just below simmering in the car was finally starting to boil over. “I can’t believe you, Natasha!”

“I-” She sputtered, and you gave her a pointed look in response. “Who told you?”

The question brought fire into your veins. She knew that you knew, because she knew that it was the one secret that had the power to make you so emotional. You two kept no secrets, and for this to be the first? That was painful.

You knew that Natasha would sense your lie about who told you and who didn’t, but you told it anyway. There was no use in causing a riff between the team because they wanted to help you. “I figured it out myself. Why didn’t you tell me?”

Natasha held her hands out in front of her body, and the gesture was so similar to the way that she used to hold her hands out in a silent ask for you to hold them. You hated the way that your heart lurched, and the way that you craved the feeling of her hands even more. “It was an accident.”

An accident? A two month escapade with another woman was an accident?

“After that long ass ride home on the quinjet, you could have at least come up with a better lie.”

“Princessa-”

“I- fuck you.” Your voice cracked in the middle of the explicative, tears falling into the suitcase pitifully. It made your raging temper even worse. “Fuck you.”

“My love-”

“I don’t understand why!” You couldn’t contain the waves of emotion you felt anymore as you slammed the top of the unfinished suitcase closed. “I give you everything I have every single day. Every day. I love you with all of my heart and I do everything I can to make you happy and you give me this? I tried so hard to make sure that we were both happy together, and we were. So, why?”

The look on Natasha’s face wasn’t unfamiliar to you. You knew it well, but it had never been used on you before. It was the look of a spy who didn’t want to say a damn word, silent resistance that you knew would be unbroken. That’s when you knew that you may never know the real reason. And it broke you. “There isn’t a reason.”

You crumbled faster than you ever had before “Natasha, we were- how could you do this to me?” You collapsed into sobs, falling onto the bed and putting your face into your hands. You didn’t know how long you cried for until you felt a hand on your shoulder, very hesitant to even attempt at being comforting. You didn’t have the energy to tell her to fuck off.

“I’m sorry,” Natasha cooed, and for a second, it felt like something was right again. Natasha being gentle was a regular occurrence, a side to the famous ex assassin that only you saw. It was your biggest safety blanket in life. But when she opened her mouth again, you were brought back to why you two were even doing this in the first place. “I didn’t mean for any of it to happen.”

You shook your head out of anger. The fact that the lie was shitty made it worse, made it hurt more. She didn’t even want to come up with a lie that would make you stay?

“Somehow you convinced that poor girl that you were going to be with her. How did you manage to do that on accident? How did you sleep with her multiple times on accident? You lead her on emotionally.”

“No.”

“Yes.” You pushed her hand off of your shoulder. “You told her some pretty little words and she fell for them as most do, right? Like I did, I guess. Just tell me the truth.”

“I didn’t-”

You remembered the way the girl was so distraught. You remembered the amount of tears that she had. You remembered the way that she avoided looking in your eyes, the way that she looked completely heart broken. Just like how you looked. You scoffed. “She told you she loved you, didn’t she?”

Natasha’s light blue eyes were boring into yours as she was silent. For the first time in a while, there was no telling of what Natasha was thinking in your mind. You were disconnected. “Yes.”

The words hurt to get out, but you had to know the answer to them. At any cost. Even at the cost of your own heart and sanity. “And you told her the same.”

There was a thick silence that spanned across multiple frantic heartbeats. “Yes.”

The next words were automatic. “I’m done.” You opened the suitcase again. The tears were coming harder than ever, warping your voice so much that your not Natasha hardly recognized it. “Done.”

“You can’t just-”

“Yes, I can!” You whipped around, eyes nailing Natasha right in her place. “Unless you can give me a good reason for what the hell you did, I’m done.”

Excruciating silence. It struck like lightning on the last tree in a struck down forest.

You turned on your heel, but then, words bubbled up in your throat, and you couldn’t shove them down. “When you miss me after you’re done, don’t come back to me.” Your voice cracked in the middle, but you kept pushing. “When you stop and think about what we could have been, do not come and find me. Because you’ll figure it out one day, and it’ll get through that thick skull.”

Natasha’s eyes were slightly watery as she looked on, taking a few steps forward with on outstretched arm, looking to latch on to you. “Love, please.”

You scoffed and ran out of the door, with nothing but a suitcase and a bag in your hands. You cried all the way to the elevator, ignoring the fact that Wanda and Vision’s room was right there across the hall, and how they without a doubt heard everything. Hell, everyone had heard everything. The argument weren’t exactly quiet.

You cried even harder when the doors of the elevator closed. Your hands shook as you brought them up to your face, remembering far too late that Tony Stark sometimes watched the tapes, especially elevator ones. You couldn’t even bring yourself to care. You turned into yourself and sobbed as your body and head shook, trying to rid herself of everything that happened. You cried more when you realized that you hadn’t meant a word of what you said to Natasha.

Deep down, through all of the emotions, you wanted her to seek you out when she learned her lesson. You didn’t know why, and you knew that you didn’t want it any time soon, but you knew that you wanted it.

It was supposed to be a magical day. The day you got the dress was the day it all became real, the day that solidified the fact that you would be getting married to the woman that you loved. You were heart broken. The familiar sound of the elevator stopping and the doors opening barely snapped you out of your well deserved pity party.

You only took one look at the new arrival, and that was when it was decided that the universe, was indeed, very unkind.

Abigail stood there like a deer in head lights, swallowing and looking with wide eyes, certainly unsure about whether or not she should just leave or apologize and hop in and pretend like she didn’t know what was going on. She looked like she expected confrontation.

Your wobbly smile shocked her. “You don’t have to be scared. Come in.” Your voice was just as shaky as the smile you offered, stepping to the side a bit and giving the other woman enough room.

You felt bad. Abigail was young, even younger than you. There was no way that she knew. No one really resisted the charms of Natasha Romanoff, anyway, and you knew it. Especially not a wide eyed newbie who was desperate to please on her first mission with the big guys, some of the original Avengers. There was no doubt that she felt terrible based on the way that she didn’t look you in the eye, and how she avoided everyone. There was only one person in the wrong, and it wasn’t this poor girl.

The doors dinged as they reached the bottom, and right before they opened, you smiled at her. “It’s okay,” your voice was a strong whisper. “It’s not your fault.” You gave her one look as you wheeled your suitcase out of the elevator, taking long strides to reach the huge front door of the tower, praying for no more interruptions.

“Y/N!”

You didn’t want to stop at all. You knew who’s commanding voice it was, and stopping to talk didn’t seem like an option. You preferred not to talk to anyone on the team, especially not one of the people who went on the mission. You wiped your cheeks and turned around anyway. “Yes?”

Steve stood before you, a sincere expression on his face as he looked you up and down, your obvious and inevitable departure making him wince. “I’m sorry.”

There was nothing that you could really say to him. He wasn’t the point of your anger and he was a friend, even if he had kept something from you. “You’re not the one who did it.”

“I could have told you.”

“No, she should have, a long time before someone else did. You didn’t do anything wrong.” The story of infidelity that happened was Natasha’s story to tell. While you still felt a little more than bitter about being an idiot in the dark about the whole thing, you would have preferred to hear it from her, one hundred percent. “I’m just pissed I found out after buying the perfect dress and veil and all of it. I was so ready.” You felt like a fool.

“I don’t know why she-”

“I don’t know why, either.” You admitted, shaking your head slowly. “But one day, maybe I’ll figure it out.”

“You’re leaving.” Steve saw it as a closed chapter now that you were storming out. Anyone would, but you knew better. You knew how Natasha worked, you knew how you worked, but most importantly, you knew how you two worked together. “You and Natasha- you and Nat are special. I’ve never seen anything like what you two have in my life, no one has. That’s why we’re all so mad. She ruined the one relationship that everyone obviously knows is true love, for no reason.”

“I know.”

He looked guilty for even saying the words. “You’re not going to try and work it out?”

“Don’t you think that I know what we have is special?” You asked him, new tears welling up in your eyes as you spoke. “I’m leaving this to her because I trust her with it. I don’t forgive her, and maybe I never will, but this is for her to decide.”

“What makes you think that she’ll decide right? Or what she’ll even decide at all?”

“She’ll come back.” You stated with certainty, and these were the first words that hadn’t had a crack or wobble in them since you started talking to the red head. “She’ll miss me and she’ll be over the thrill of whatever happened on the mission, and she’ll find me, wherever I decide to go. She’ll come back to me, just like I would come back to her. It could take weeks or years, but she will. That’s how we work.”

Steve was momentarily stunned, but after a few short moments, you knew that you had convinced him. “And you’re willing to wait for her? However long it takes?”

You lifted your lips at him, even more tears building up in your eyes as your answer flew up to your lips without even thinking. “She’ll come and find out.”

You walked away with heavy steps, already feeling her lingering on your skin, and the haunting memories of the two of you as happy as could be swirling around in your head.

You were well aware that removing Natasha from your life would hurt. But you never could have anticipated how much it would hurt.

Natasha was the safety net you never knew you needed. She was the one person on earth who made you feel truly wanted, needed even. She knew everything that you required to feel loved and you knew her just the same, and you both did those things. And that’s what made you two different.

You had been cheated on before. That was how Natasha had met you, actually. Your last boyfriend had cheated on you like the dirty dog he was with nearly every woman he was cute enough to be with for a night, and Natasha met you while you were getting hammered at a bar because you found out. Natasha met you at your lowest point and raised you up with all her might, and still had energy to love you. You felt useless and discarded, thrown under the bed and tossed to the side of the road, but she found you and made you something new. She made you her favorite.

Natasha was everywhere.

She was in the way that you made your coffee, because you hated it before you met her, and she introduced you to a kind that you liked. You got as addicted to it as you were to her.

She was in the way that you walked around the park at night instead of in the morning like you did before you met her, because she liked looking at the stars together.

She was in the way that you searched for her next to you in your sleep and when you first woke up. She was in the ring you still had. She was in the way you wrote your letter ‘n’ now, because you wrote her notes for years and always made the ‘n’ fancy just for her. It stuck. She was somehow related to every show and every movie and every brand of ice cream, and from the second week of suffering without her, you knew that she would linger on you like a faded tattoo.

During the third week, you swore that you could smell her perfume, though it made no sense. You had done laundry many times, and all of a sudden the smell popped up, like she was dropping in to spray the perfume and then leaving as soon as she came. The rich smell was something that you would never forget, and it hung around like thick smoke in your mind. You wanted it to leave.

You cursed her name all throughout the fourth week of being alone in your small apartment in Brooklyn. Everything was her fault. The washer broke, Natasha somehow did it. If you woke up with makeup still on your face from the past night, Natasha was at fault.

You went shopping during the sixth week, and you swore you saw flashes of her red hair in the grocery line, pitifully walking faster with your cart to both flee and go towards it. A part of you knew that she would never shop this far out, but you couldn’t help it. You missed her. You missed her a lot.

But that didn’t change that it stung so, so badly.

It was disgustingly close to what the wedding date would have been when you were lying in bed with a stray cat that you had managed to nurse back to health and call your own about two weeks prior. In a way, it was freeing. Natasha hated animals. They were a responsibility in her mind, nothing more. You loved the cat quickly, and named him Henry.

There were three sharp knocks on the door that you would have taken for strokes of thunder if they weren’t so close. You frowned and stood up, walking to the window to peak outside and see that there was a thunderstorm rolling through, the wind higher than usual and the rain coming down sideways.

You walked to the door with the small cat trailing behind you like a loyal companion. You cracked a smile when he meowed, and you looked through the peep hole, the bright porch light shocking your eye for a second, and then you saw.

Natasha Romanoff was standing there, soaking wet with her arms hanging at her sides, trembling from the cold.

You took two steps back that startled Henry, causing him to meow louder this time. You breathed in, trying to be quiet, but you knew that she knew you were there. She was so trained that you knew she heard you approaching, and when you took your steps away from the door. You both knew each other were there.

You had indirectly told her to seek you out when she was ready, and here she was.

Were you ready?

Like you were a child trying to eavesdrop, you held your breath as you leaned into the door, putting your ear on it as you struggled to hear something, anything, from her. She wasn’t talking. You looked up into the peephole again, and she was looking at her feet, waiting for something to happen. She knew that you were deciding.

You had spent time looking for her in places you knew she would never be, running to and from things that looked like or reminded you of her, and now the real thing stood in your porch light in the rain. She came back to you.

She came back, but that didn’t erase everything that happened. Not at all. Her two months of fun and new experiences acted as the eraser, painting over everything that they had ever done in black paint. The joy of dancing with her under street lights and kissing in Tony’s limos and her hand under your sweatshirt didn’t amount to the pain it felt when she ripped herself from you.

But why did it hurt so much if they weren’t the same amount of emotion, if not more? If you looked at it with a rational mind, was the joy not worth more than the pain?

The pain weighed like bricks. There was one big brick that weighed half a ton on one scale, nearly tipping the other side.

But the joy? It weighed like clouds, because that’s what joy was. It was the feeling of being above the clouds. And you found that every moment of joy that you had Natasha, even though it was the weight of clouds, still outweighed the fat brick.

But were all of the cloud moments enough to possibly take another brick?

Your hand moved before you knew it, and you were undoing the chain and unlocking the door, yanking it open roughly and staring her down.

She was shocked. Her eyes were wide as she stared at you without any barriers, automatic tears welling up. Had she come all that way to not even know whether or not you would answer? Hell, you had done all of that while in limbo with yourself.

But now, without even knowing how Natasha truly felt, without even hearing one word from her mouth, you knew something changed.

“I knew you’d come back.”

#natasha romanoff #natasha romanoff x reader #marvel fanfiction #fem reader #lgbtq #natasha x reader #natasha x you #marvel imagines #my fics

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kakashiswilloffire · 3 years

Note

Congratulations on a 100! Can I request a female reader and a scenario where Kakashi discovers in a very shocking way that his s/o is pregnant? Please don't mind not writing if it bothers you. Stay hydrated and have a nice day regardless!🌸

thank you for the request!! hope you enjoy!!

***

A Kunoichi's Suprise

ao3

words: 1.9k

kakashi x fem!reader, fluff, reader is pregnant

***

“I do hate to do this to you, but you’re the best choice. There’s not an Inuzuka available who has the security clearance necessary, which makes you the only ninken-user I can assign this to.”

Kakashi nodded and shrugged, brushing off the unspoken apology. “I understand, it’s no issue.”

Tsunade pursed her lips into a thin line, nodding solemnly. “If it wasn’t so time-sensitive, I’d put someone else on it, I swear.” She tucked a loose strand of her silvery blond hair behind her ear and shuffled the papers on her desk, bringing a personnel file to the top. “And to accompany you… Again, I’m really sorry, but she’s the only one who makes sense. She was in the area most recently out of all available jonin and her weapons expertise makes her the best candidate to accompany you.”

His eyebrows dipped together in mild confusion. He would have requested this partner if she hadn’t been assigned—he agreed fully that they would make the best team for this recovery mission. Shaking it off, he nodded again. “Sounds great, Lady Fifth. Anything else?”

Tsunade let out a breath she had been half holding and leaned back in her chair. Tonton gave a relieved squeak and Shizune pulled her closer to her chest. The Hokage dragged her hands across her eyes, then leaned forward on her elbows.

“Glad you’re taking this so well. I thought you’d at least argue about your fiancé going with you, if not objecting to being sent on a mission right now at all.”

Kakashi jerked his head backwards and to the side, scanning over the Sannin with his single vibrant, gray eye. “I’m sorry if I gave you the impression I like to argue with superiors, Tsunade-sama. That’s really more Naruto’s thing.” She snorted, and he took it as a good sign. “When would you like us to head out? Thirty minutes?”

Immediately, Tsunade shot him down. “She needs a medic to look her over before she can go into the field. I’m happy to do it myself. Her training with her team ends at noon, right?” She glanced at the clock, then gestured to Shizune. “Send Kotetsu or Izumo to pull her, we can’t wait that long.” With a quick nod, she ducked out of the room. “Meanwhile, you can go pack bags for you both. Be sure to grab her med pack, I’ll probably need to give her a bonus prescription or two for the journey.”

At this point, Kakahi’s confusion could no longer be dismissed. Why would his fiancé need extra medication for a mission? He had just seen you when you left to meet your team of genin, and you hadn’t mentioned anything. Maybe the stomach bug you had had a few weeks ago had been worse than you let on?

“Sorry, prescriptions? Are we facing potential poisoning?” He tried, looking for an explanation.

Tsunade shook her head firmly. “Anything is possible, but I’m not concerned about it.” She ran her hand backward through her hair, shaking it gently toward the ends and letting it fall out of the way. “More concerned with making sure she’s getting the correct nutrients. I’ve been working on the nutritional value of shinobi rations, but it’s hard to find something that’s shelf stable, lightweight, and compact without just being food pills.”

Kakashi agreed, a debate he had heard on nearly every long term mission. “So you’ll give us both supplements, fair. Should we do my physical now while we wait on my fiancé to arrive?” He relished the words in his mouth, the phrase “my fiancé” almost a dream to him, even still.

She gave a bemused chuckle, glancing the scarecrow of a man up and down. “Why, you have some kind of boo-boo you need me to kiss?” Tsunade returned to the paperwork on her desk, shuffling it again and pulling the shinobi copy of the mission details file out, holding it out to him. “I trust you to get whatever nutrients you need after all these years of life, Bakashi,” she teased.

He didn’t move to take the file. “What’s going on?” he demanded, as respectfully as absolutely necessary. “What’s going on that she needs a medical check and extra medication to travel on a mission? Why did you think I would object to being paired with her? It’s not our first mission together, not even since we got engaged. What am I forgetting?”

Tsunade didn’t react to his interrogation, continuing to organize paperwork and leaning down to pull open a drawer in her desk, sliding his and your personnel files inside. “The fetus, maybe?” She offered, waving a hand like it was obvious.

The what?

For a moment, Tsunade could almost hear the cogs grinding in the shinobi’s head. You passing him every drink that had been pushed on you in the last few weeks, the stomach bug that he had never caught, and the uptick in morning meetings you had.

Then the cogs were brought to a halt, and the whole world froze. The blood running through his body was ice cold, and he felt his fingertips and forehead tingling. Were you really pregnant?

Was he, Kami forbid, going to be a father?

Tsunade swore, knowing she shouldn’t have said anything violating medical confidentiality, but with the pregnancy already being in the second trimester, she had no idea that you hadn’t told Kakashi yet. “Listen, Kakashi… just sit down, okay?” She looked around, swearing again at the reminder that this damn office had no chairs outside of the one she occupied.

She jumped up, crossing over to Kakashi and pushing him forward into the chair behind the desk. “Breathe, Kakashi, come on.” She shook him gently, then lightly slapped his cheek. “Come on, soldier. You’re Kakashi of the Sharingan, master of a thousand jutsu, pull it together.”

He flatly refused.

The door to the Hokage’s office opened, Shizune and Tonton leading you in. You took a moment to take in the scene of your fiancé hyperventilating behind the desk, the Hokage herself swearing and trying to get him to make eye contact and pull air into his lungs. Then he saw you, and he paused, fear in his eyes.

“Is it true—I mean, are you—love, are you pregnant?” He choked out.

Your hand flew to your mouth as if to put the secret back inside. You knew you’d have to tell him eventually, but you had wanted the moment to be right and he had been so busy with his missions lately. He didn’t know it yet, but you had rented a room at a nearby onsen for next weekend, making sure to get a room with a private bath and windows high enough that no onlookers could see inside so that he could comfortably remove his mask. That would’ve been the way you preferred he find out, when rather than dessert, you slid the sonogram across the table after dinner. Instead, you nodded.

“Yes, my love,” you whispered. “I’m pregnant.” Instinctively, your hand rested over the part of your stomach that had begun showing this last week.

He seemed to melt into chair. “Kami… we’re going to be parents?”

You nodded, a small laugh breaking from your chest. “Yes, Kakashi, that’s the plan.”

Slowly, he gathered himself, standing up and delicately walking around the desk to the doorway where you remained. “I… You want this?” He sniffed hard, blinking twice and taking your hands. “You want to raise a child with me? This child?”

You tilted your head to the side, feeling hot tears sting your eyes. You knew he had issues with his self worth, and that would be something you would focus on for the next few months so he’d be ready for your child.

“Of course, ‘Kashi. There’s no one I trust more, no one I think would make a better father. I can’t imagine doing this with anyone else, and I’m thrilled that I get to do it with you.”

His wiry frame jolted as though he’d been shocked, and the threw himself into your arms, allowing his fears and shock to leave him through tears. Tsunade and Shizune averted their eyes, doing what they could to preserve your privacy. Tonton oinked in solidarity. After a couple of moments, he stood again, wiping dry the parts of his face not covered by salty, wet fabric. He then hooked a finger into the mask at the side of his nose, yanked it down, and brought you into a deep kiss, warm hands wrapping around you and pulling you close.

After the surprise, you let yourself dissolve into him, allowing yourself to be swept into his emotional display. He pulled his face back after a few beats and beamed, smiling as widely as you could remember seeing him grin. Then his mouth was back on yours, this time for just a second, then a firm kiss to your forehead before he secured the mask again. Turning to face the Hokage, he wrapped his arm around your back and held you close.

“Tsunade-sama, all due respect, can Pakkun handle this? I’ll send him with anyone you’d like. Naruto, even, I don’t think he’s doing anything tonight. I can send the whole pack. I can brief Gai, or Tenzo, anyone? And if you need a weapons expert, I’m sure Tenten is more than qualified.” You giggled, watching your fiancé ramble to the leader of the village. “It’s just, I’m going to be a father, and she’s pregnant with our child, and I’ve gotta say, I don’t think we’re going on any missions for the next, say, 18 years? Well, maybe some D ranks. We’ll see.”

As Tsunade opened her mouth, he cut her off with a pointed, “How’s the progress on the Konoha Orphanage coming along? They prepared for one more? Cause I’m not letting anything happen to either of us, for this child’s sake.”

Tsunade glared, but was startled out of the shouting match she was gearing up for by Shizune chuckling. Betrayed, she turned to her companion.

“I mean, this is the reaction you anticipated him having, Lady Fifth,” she giggled.

She slammed a fist on the desk, although with an intense amount of restraint given that the surface was not even dented. Finally, she looked up with a glint in her eye.

“I think Hana Inuzuka gets back this evening. I can give her twelve hours to rest and then she and Tenten, along with Gai, can probably handle it. This time.”

Kakashi was already on his way out the door, pulling you behind him in a firmly clasped hand, before she had finished. He called out a thanks over your shoulder as you left. Together, you giggled as you entered the streets of Konoha.

Your fiancé spun in circles, laughing freely and spreading his arms out. “We’re starting a family!” he shouted to the sky. You knew you would both continue to take missions with this child, and that was a conversation for another time. For now, though, you were content to spend eternity watching the love of your life giddily relish in this moment.

#kakashi x reader #tw pregnancy #cw pregnancy #pregnancy #tsunade totally would tease kakashi #he was hanging around while she/jiraya/oro were all in the village still #he's her little brother #kakashi fanfiction #kakashi hakate #naruto fanfiction #fic request #oneoftheprettynerds

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losingitinjersey · 3 years

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Ever spend the last 12 days intending to blog every day and then never finding the time to do so? Yup, that’s where I’ve been at. Straight up in survival mode over here.

My MIL left on Monday and while my days since have been spent constantly putting out fires managing two crying children (often at the same time), I’m oh so flipping happy to be on my own again :) I understand that it’s important for family to come and visit and get to know their grandchildren. While I’m happy we all had that time together I’m glad to now have the time to figure out life as a family of four without an extra person in the house.

Kevin started a new rotation that has him gone six days a week from 4 a.m. to 8:30 p.m. (or later) so all he has time to do is come home and sleep. Poor guy :( I went from having both him and either my mom or MIL home all the time to now doing everything alone. It’s a lot but I’m surviving!

Here’s a rundown of some of the highlights from the last 12 days.

Aug passed her hearing test! Woooo!

Thanks to the MIL here, Kevin and I were able to go (BY OURSELVES) out to dinner, out to brunch, on several walks, and two grocery shopping dates! Such a dreeaaammm!

My MIL strongly dislikes/is scared of my cat, Saki. As such, on one of the days I was gone at appointments with Aug for six hours she didn’t let him downstairs. Due to this he pooped in my bedroom on the carpet :( To my MIL’s credit, she thought he had a litterbox upstairs, but no. That’s why I’m always letting him down and opening up the bathroom with the litterbox in it for him all the time. Pay attention, woman.

While we’re on the MIL rant, I’ll keep going with two more stories.

I’ve put Erp to sleep every night of her life except for when I was at the hospital delivering Aug. We have a bedtime routine that I look forward to every day and one that I find to be an intimate experience that only we share. One night that I’m putting her down, I come out to find the kitchen and dining room still a mess with Kevin and his mom sitting on the couch (she has Aug in her arms so she gets a pass). But I’m frustrated and start to clean. At one point I look up to ask if MIL can turn on the monitor (that I know was turned off before I went in to start bedtime) and I see she’s looking at it watching Erp. I ask her if that means she watched us while we were in there. She replied that she had. I reply, “Great.” Drop what I’m washing in the sink and run upstairs slamming the door shut behind me. I go to pump and cool off. I come downstairs 40 minutes later to tell her I overreacted but also that I felt she had invaded our privacy. She tells me, through tears, that it reminded her of her time with Kevin when he was a baby. I get it, but still. Kevin said had he known she was watching he would have told her to stop since I made it VERY clear to him early on in Erp’s life that I don’t like being watched on the monitor when I’m in there with her. I guess I should have told her about my preference in advance but I never thought I’d need to spell it out like that.

For the last week she was here, she had Chicago Med on the TV constantly, at relatively loud volume. Please note that we never ever ever have the TV on at our house unless we’re actively watching something, and if that happens it’s 99% of the time just me watching and I do it for an hour at night when everyone is asleep. If we need background noise, music is playing. She would just sit on the couch and watch her show talking about gunshots, premature birth, and whatever kind of medical drama while my kids are running around. I’m sorry, but I thought you were here to connect with your grandkids? So while she sat on the couch, I would engage and play with Erp for hours. Cool cool cool.

Please note that despite all this she’s a lovely woman and a great grandmother and mother and MIL. I came into her visit already dreading more company, and I’m sure I’m still surging with hormones from the pregnancy (right? or am I just this way always now?). All this to say that I was not begging her to stay and getting used to taking care of both kids on my own wasn’t that hard since I’d basically been doing it during her entire visit.

Okay, let’s take a breather and talk about other things.

Do you remember the 21st night of September? I DO because my 6 week old slept 12 straight hours! GLORIOUS.

After finishing listening to Billy Summers (loved it!) I decided to undertake Stephen King’s hefty novel, The Stand. I’d been scared to attempt it ever since I read 100 pages of it in 9th grade before deciding to pick it up again later. I guess 23 years later did the trick because I’m thoroughly enjoying it! I’ve learned that audiobooks are the only way I can get through any material lately. It makes me want to go out on walks and take drives so I can listen to MoAr! I’m already 10 hours into the 48 hour novel. Although, I gotta say, it certainly feels strange to read about a deadly pandemic (written in 1978) during this current pandemic.

After two months since I initially contacted the nearby school/daycare, I finally followed up to get Erp on a waitlist. There are six kids ahead of her. We took a tour on Friday and I want her to get in so so badly, hopefully before we move in June! It would be such a great place for her to socialize and learn!

If any of the above isn’t telling, my hormones are all over the place. I know this because my face has decided to rage in all the redness and acne. So fun!

Thanks to getting my house back, I’ve been able to establish a routine for us which includes going on stroller walks every day with the girls! We’ve already made it over 37 miles this month! Loving the outside time and knowing I’m working hard at my weight loss efforts.

Despite being on maternity leave, this past Friday I was invited to participate in an EA (virtual) offsite with my team at work! It was great to be able to see everyone again! At the end we participated in a cooking class where they mailed me a box of all the ingredients to cook a NY Strip Steak and Corn Succotash! Deeeelicious!

Given Erp’s increasing interest and ability at walking, I attempted a walk with her the other day, sans stroller! I wore Aug in a wrap on my chest and held Erp’s hand as we walked around the neighborhood. We walked a good 1/4 of a mile! Everything was fine until we made it back to our walkway and she refused to climb up the step to head back inside. Like, laid flat on the ground refusal. Since Aug was on me I couldn’t really just grab Erp and muscle her back inside. She wouldn’t listen to any request of mine to go inside so we had a power struggle of what felt like 15 minutes but I’m sure was closer to 5. She would try to crawl around my feet (into the bushes even to get around me), and any time I tried to lift her up she’d pull herself to the ground crying. Eventually I tucked Aug’s flopping head into the fabric of the wrap so I could lean down and grab my tantruming child and carry her inside. I want to be able to keep up with these excursions but not sure how to do so if she continues to rebel like this. Like, if she did this farther from home we’d be up a creek. Hopefully she’ll improve in time?

OKAY! Hopefully we can now get back to our regularly scheduled blogging so a massive update like this won’t be necessary again :) Thanks for taking time out of your day to catch up with me!

#please don't reblog #momblr #erp is 21 months old #aug is 6 weeks old #fitblr

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young-dumb-and-vaccinated · 3 years

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Cult Girl: Doctorate (Hannibal x Female!Reader) pt. 7

Hemorrhage

Cult girl visits the doctor and deals with the reality of being pregnant.

@wisesandwichshark

Trigger warnings: pregnancy, scary medical terminology, mention of alcoholism

The plan was simple, but could go wrong at any turn.

Step one: confirm with the gynecologist that you were, in fact, pregnant. While you were there, you made sure to get a new prescription for birth control.

"It's absolutely certain." The nurse midwife said, pulling off her plastic gloves. "You are, without a doubt, expecting."

"Thank you." You responded, lowering your head to obscure your face.

She sat down in her swivel chair and leaned forward with her elbows against her knees. Open, comforting body language. "Now we should discuss what's next. Have you taken some time to consider your options?"

You nodded. "I think I'm going to see the pregnancy through and put the baby up for adoption."

"I see." The nurse midwife stood up, looking concerned. "At the risk of being intrusive, may I ask for the reason why?"

You had forty-five million reasons, but none you could articulate. "I'd rather you not."

"Let me rephrase the question." She clutched her clipboard. "Is somebody coercing you into carrying out this pregnancy against your will?"

Does bribery count as coercion? You thought.

"No." You lied.

"It's just that pregnancy is a very invasive, life-altering process." She rationalized. "A woman at your stage of life shouldn't feel obligated to go through it unless she really wanted to."

Thinking on it for a minute, what she said made sense. By all accounts, you'd be the perfect candidate for an abortion. You were a damned doctoral candidate in the middle of your graduate program. But sometimes, money spoke louder than reason.

"I'm sure." You said, before you could change your mind.

"In that case," She scribbled something down on her paper. "We will be seeing a lot of each other over the next forty weeks."

"Forty weeks?" You repeated.

"You're only a few weeks along, so we'll schedule an appointment to check up on you early next month." She continued. "At that point, we can bring the father in to discuss any potential problems. But you're young and healthy, so this should be a fairly low-risk pregnancy."

"The father?" You said, almost making it sound like an objection.

She gave you a disarming smile. "I'm sorry, I should have asked. Is the father in your life?"

"Oh, yeah." You nodded, realizing what you accidentally implied. "It's my fiancée. We've been living together for, like, three years now. It's just that-"

She raised an eyebrow, urging you to finish your thought.

"He's also a doctor." You said. "A male one. Y'know how it can be annoying when another doctor is in the room, trying to mansplain everything to you?"

You stopped talking before you could dig yourself into a deeper hole.

Great work, [F/N]. You thought. Now your doctor thinks you're dating an anti-choice chauvinist asshole.

Her mouth turned into a smile, but her eyes asked if you needed help. You probably did, all things considered.

"That won't be a problem." She assured you. "Do you think I made it through medical school without learning how to handle sexist male doctors?"

"I guess not." You shrugged.

She cleared her throat. "Let's talk a bit about what to expect."

"Oh, yeah." You said, remembering where you were.

She pointed to your lower abdomen. "Your uterus is about the size of your fist. But as the baby grows, it will grow with it."

You made noises of agreement as you followed along.

"Right now, what you have inside you is an embryo." She explained. "At the end of twelve weeks, it will be a fetus. At that point, most of the major organs and muscle tissue will have developed-"

She dumped so much information that you couldn't even begin to process it all. You tried to keep bullet points in your head, but your brain kept fixating on the scary verbs like "stretch" and "rip".

"Is the third of February good for you?"

You snapped back to reality. "Huh? Oh, yeah."

"Great." She scribbled on her clipboard again. "I will see you then."

She shoved several handfuls of colorful printouts and infographics into your arms before seeing you out.

Before climbing into the car, you sent Hannibal a text.

[F/N]: Definitely, 100% pregnant.

You expected him to take his time, but your notification sound chimed before you could even start the engine.

Hannibal: That is to be expected. I'm rarely wrong about this sort of thing.

You rolled your eyes and fired off another message.

[F/N]: You did this to me and I'll never let you forget it.

Hannibal: I could live with that.

At home, you sat at your computer, trying to familiarize yourself with every unknown word the nurse midwife threw at you.

“Hey babe?” You called out.

“Yes, dear?” Hannibal cooed back.

“How do you spell ‘hemorrhage’?” You asked. “Is there an ‘ae’ or not?”

Hannibal stepped out of the bathroom, wearing a towel around his waist. “I think it’s spelled with an ‘ae’ outside of the United States. Why?”

He peered over your shoulder at the search results for ‘antepartum hemorrhage’. He wasn’t fazed in the slightest by the results, but could sense your discomfort. You clutched a stray pamphlet titled ‘First Trimester Dos and Don’ts’ in a tight grip.

“Are we having second thoughts, my love?” He asked, with no indication of whether this was a good or bad thing.

“I don’t know.” You sighed, closing the laptop in frustration. “I don’t know if I’m just emotionally numb or in complete denial, but all these scary medical disasters don’t scare me as much as having to give up wine for the next nine months.”

“And sushi, most organ meat, and charcuterie.” Hannibal added. “Also, anything too high in caffeine.”

You threw your head back and groaned. “Kill me.”

Hannibal smirked to himself. You turned on your swivel chair and glared up at him.

“Enjoying my misery?” You asked, folding your arms.

“Just admiring the fact that in the face of life-threatening medical emergencies,” He placed his hands on your shoulders. “Your biggest concern is not being able to partake in the culinary adventures to which you’ve grown accustomed.”

You turned back to your computer. “I’m sure, one way or another, we’re going to come across some fresh meat. I’ll just have to pair it with Sprite or something for the time being.”

“The infographic doesn’t say anything about properly-prepared human meat, does it?” He tilted his head.

You leaned back in your chair. “Nope.”

#hannibal lecter #hannibal nbc #hannibal #hannibal x reader #hannibal x you #hannibal lecter x you #hannibal lecter x reader #cult girl #cult girl 2 #more cult girl

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myrandomfandomramblings · 3 years

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The Beach - a The Rookie/Chenford Fanfic

“7-Adam-11, show us responding,” Jackson said over the radio as Lucy leaned back against her headrest defeatedly.

“I didn’t think I’d ever say this but I really don’t want to go to the beach.” “Like ever again,” she added even as she took the first turn towards their destination.

LA was 4 days into a record heat wave and over that time Lucy had learnt a few important things 1) Unsurprisingly, extreme heat causes everyone to flock to the ocean. 2) It also makes people extremely irritable. 3) Lots of irritable people packed together in large groups leads to chaos and 4) wool uniforms are not ideal attire for patrolling beaches in temperatures around 100.

So after 4 days she was over it. She had spent Monday with Jackson getting sworn at, honked at and nearly run over as they directed traffic at the busiest beaches in the city. She spent Tuesday with Tim breaking up beach brawls, confiscating contributing alcohol and watching bikini clad woman flirt with Tim. At least 8 different woman had asked him to rub sunscreen on them or suggested he take off his shirt to cool down. She had rolled her eyes so much she had given herself a headache. Although it may have been the sun. Yesterday, her and Nolan and responded to a report of a missing child who was feared drowned or kidnapped but turned out had followed the music of an ice cream truck four blocks and was found, about 30 minutes after the officers arrived, happily eating a fudgiscle. However, they were kept at the beach for the remainder of their shift by various citizens with complaints ranging from seagulls, wasps and possible sharks to thieves, streakers and possible melanoma.

Now her and Jackson were headed back to a beach where the adjacent shrubbery was currently being consumed by a blazing bush fire, which was in all likelihood human caused and spreading fast. Therefore all hands were on deck as the LAPD worked with the LAFD to keep civilians safe, extinguish the fire and investigate its cause.

The rest of her shift passed in a blur as they interviewed witnesses, cordoned off the area, issued evacuation orders, ensured those who needed it got medical attention, joined a production line passing large buckets of water from the ocean to where the fire was burning and debriefed with their team which included Nolan and Tim, and Lopez and Harper. Luckily in the end, the fire was successfully extinguished, those living nearby were safe and happily back in their homes and the perpetrator, a cigarette butt flicker, was caught. But not until nearly 11pm by which time the entire team was exhausted, scorching and covered in soot and ash. With their job done the team of 6 headed away from the scene back along the beach to where they had parked their shops. They were right on the sand where they left them to create a barrier preventing people from wandering toward the fire and the beach around them was abandoned. Likely due to a combination of the late hour, the fire itself and the fact that the stretch of beach they were on was only accessible by walking about a mile from one of the main beaches on either side or by scrambling down the steep cliff behind them.

“Anybody want a cold one,” Nolan asked when they reached the vehicles, “well a hot one I guess” he amended as he pulled out a six pack he had confiscated earlier in the day from the trunk of his shop. Everybody made a face at the offer of hot beer but since the only light around came from the shops headlights shining in the opposite direction Nolan didn’t see them.

“Screw it, I’ll take one,” Angela said.

“Wesley and Patrice took the baby to meet the extended Evers clan so I have nowhere to be and now that I’m no longer breastfeeding I can have whatever I want. Even if that’s gross beer that’s been sitting in a hot car all day,” she explained.

“If we dig a hole near the water line it will fill with cold seawater and we can make a makeshift beer fridge,” Jackson suggested but Angela had already opened her can and was sipping away.

“I’ll help dig the hole,” Nyla offered. “I’d rather hangout here then go back to the station to do paperwork and Lila’s with her dad so I also have no where I have to be.”

“I’ll call Grey and tell him we’re clocking out and will do the paperwork in the morning,” Tim offered.

“Your staying?” Lucy asked a little too excitedly, “what about Kojo?” she quickly added.

“Tamara called several hours ago and offered to give him dinner, take him for a walk and put him to bed.”“She saw the fire on the news and rightly assumed we’d have our hands full,” he finished.

30 minutes later they all sat in the sand around their makeshift beer fridge. Shoes, socks and button up shirts discarded and pants pulled up to their knees. 3 flashlights were in the middle of the group, pointing skyward, their handles buried in the sand. They laughed as they went around and told stories.

“How is it still this hot?” Lucy asked a while later. It was after midnight and the temperature had yet to even consider dropping below 90.

She pulled her white t-shirt away from her skin fanning, herself.

“I’m going swimming,” she declared ready to stand up.

“Your going swimming? Right Now? In that?” Tim asked gesturing to her cotton tee and woolen pants.

Lucy shook her head. “I was just going to go in my underwear but now that I think about it I don’t really want to have to drive back to the station in soaking wet underwear.”

Tim nodded as if this is what he expected but Lucy didn’t see him and continued.

“I guess I’ll just skinny dip,” she concluded.

Tim managed to both spit out and choke on the sip of beer he had just taken.

Everybody else’s faces were turned towards Tim and wearing amused expressions but they were saved his annoyance due to the limited light and the fact that his attention was still fully on Lucy.

“What?” She asked Tim, “It’s not a big deal. It’s dark. Plus everybody here has already seen me naked.”

“Well except you,” she added, which earned another spit take from Tim.

Lucy rolled her eyes but couldn’t suppress a smile. She loved seeing Tim flustered, especially when it was her doing.

“What?” He finally managed to ask in a strained voice after a few harsh coughs to clear his throat.

“Everybody here’s seen Lucy naked but you,” Lopez offered, “although that was bound to change sometime soon,” she added.

Lucy and Tim both turned to look at her wide eyed. Nolan and Nyla were both hiding smirks and Jackson wore an expression of mainly panic as he spoke.

“She’s drunk. She has no idea what she’s saying,” Jackson offered before turning to look daggers at Angela and whisper something in her ear.

Lucy thought she heard the words bet, interference and disqualified but she couldn’t be sure.

When he finished Angela addressed them again. “Sorry, apparently my tolerance took a nose dive since pre-pregnancy. I didn’t mean anything by that I got you mixed up with Smitty and what’s her face,” she finished waving her hand disparagingly.

“Hmm,” Lucy said clearly not buying her lame excuse but Tim still had his mind on other things.

“Why has everybody else here seen you naked?” he asked, his tone almost suspicious.

Lucy laughed. “Are you jealous?”

He fixed her with his best TO look. “No.”

Lucy suppressed the urge to roll her eyes yet again and answered.

“Communal showers at work,” she began gesturing to Nyla and Angela. “Best friends and roommates” she added pointing to Jackson. “Life gets crazy. Sometimes closing doors or throwing on clothes just isn’t a priority,” she explained seeing Tim’s confused expression. “Also we had to help each other into and out of the bath after we were injured.” She didn’t have to specify her kidnapping or the beating Jackson took to take down Doug Stanton. This group knew. “It’s kind of ironic that when everything hurts all you want is a warm bath but when everything hurts it’s nearly impossible to get yourself into and out of a bathtub,” she finishes. “Oh and Nolan and I used to date.” She says it as almost an afterthought, super casual. But all the former TOs still look at her with shock.

“You and Nolan?” Nyla asks with a laugh. “Really?” “No offense,” she adds addressing Nolan.

“Ah, none taken?” Nolan replies, clearly confused by her reaction.

“When?” Lopez asks looking between the two P2s.

“For a couple months while we were in the academy. We called it off shortly after we started at Mid-Wilshire,” Nolan supplied.

“Wow, I just can’t picture it,” Angela continued shaking her head.

“Why would you want to picture it?” Tim spat. Then seemed to catch himself and schooled his scowl back into a blank expression.

“Why’d you call it off, anyway?” Angela asked. Half actually curious. Half just trying to do her friend a solid and take the attention off him.

“Bishop warned me that dating a fellow cop would brand me and could ruin my career,” Lucy answered and thought she saw Tim flinch. It was impossible to tell for sure with just the flashlights, nevertheless she added, “Somethings matter more-“ she was staring right at Tim now “-are worth the gossip, the assumptions, the risk.” As she said it she saw his expression change but she couldn’t read it. “But our relationship wasn’t one of those things. We’re better as friends, anyway,” she finished addressing the whole group but looking at Nolan specifically for confirmation.

“Agreed,” Nolan nodded holding up his beer.

“To friends,” Jackson said clicking his to Nolan’s.

“To friends,” everybody joined in clinking their cans together.

“So who’s coming skinny dipping with me?” Lucy asked as she started to make her way back to the vehicles where she could leave her clothes in a place where they’d stay sand free.

“I will,” said Angela, “pregnancy and caring for a baby really makes modesty go out the window. The two beers I’ve had don’t hurt either.” She began to follow Lucy to the cars.

“I’m in,” Jackson offered, “with you two practically glowing in the dark nobody will even notice me.” He teased as he got up to join them, earning a playful shove from Lucy.

“Nobody’s here to see anything anyway.” She retorted.

“Go ahead. I might join you later.” Nolan said and Nyla and Tim nodded in agreement.

10 minutes later. Lucy, Angela and Jackson’s clothes were inside Jackson and Lucy’s shop and they were out in the ocean. It dropped off quickly so they weren’t that far away from the beach even though the water came to just below Lucy’s shoulders. After four days of blazing heat and the fire on top today, the cool water felt like heaven to her. She dipped and dove through the water, relishing the cool and wiped at her face and hands to remove the soot that had coated them earlier. Beside her Angela was trying to show Jackson what her son does when they put him in the water. This led to reminiscing about childhood summers spent at the beach or in backyard and community pools. And before they knew it they were playing old games from those days. John and Nyla had joined them by this time. Claiming some combination of escaping the heat, joining the fun and more beer as the motivation. They were currently having breath holding contests.

“I win!” Jackson exclaimed as he came up for air to find everyone else already up.

“You cheated,” Lucy argued, “I saw you come up while I was still under. I had my eyes open.”

“I did not. Plus it’s pitch black under there you couldn’t possibly have seen anything.”

“Did Jackson come up?” Lucy yelled at Tim who was still sitting on the shore.

“I don’t know. I wasn’t watching,” he replied casually with a slight shrug.

“Yes you were,” Angela argued, “you haven’t taken your eyes off Lucy since she got in here,” then realizing what she said she quickly ducked back under the water.

Everybody still above the surface froze.

Then after a beat. “So did he come up or not. I need to know if I won,” Nyla asked, all business.

“He floated to the surface but didn’t lift his head up. He won,” Tim offered defeatedly.

“Told you!” Jackson bragged.

“Rematch. 3,2,1 go,” shouted Nyla as everybody ducked back under the water. Lucy a split second behind everybody else as her attention was still on Tim.

She came up about 30 seconds later just as a wave was passing by her and managed to swallow a good serving of water. She coughed and sputtered but before she knew it Jackson and Nolan were beside her and she was assuring them she was Ok just needed a bit of time to catch her breath. As she swam towards the shore to rest in the shallows she noticed Tim was just sitting back down and his pants were wet to just above the knee. But she didn’t let herself focus on it.

She swam to just in front of where he sat laying on her stomach on the ocean floor, head just above the water.

“You OK?” He asked shifting his eyes to her for the first time since she swam up.

“Ya fine, just swallowed a little water,” she assured him.

“Looks like you guys are having fun out there,” he nodded indicating the group still farther out.

“Ya the water feels amazing. You can’t honestly tell me that you aren’t hot.” She had meant it literally. He was sitting in above 90 degree weather with wool pants on. But then she realized he had taken off his white shirt and his muscled chest and stomach were currently on full display and the word took on an entirely different meaning. She was thankful for the darkness as it hid her blush but even that couldn’t hide the fact that she was definitely staring.

“The ladies on the beach the other day will be so disappointed they’re missing this,” she teased gesturing to his bare upper half, hoping to give a probable explanation for the staring.

He gave a short laugh. “Not as disappointed as the meat bags who were wolf whistling at you will be that they’re missing that.” As he gestured at her he finally let himself actually take her in. Her hair was still up in its low work bun leaving her entire back exposed. The upper half of which was completely taken up by a tattoo, he had never seen before, although the light was too limited for him to make out the design. The rest of her body was hidden in shadows except her face which was now free of soot and make-up making her look young and vulnerable. Freckles brought out by the last few days of blazing sun were speckled across the bridge of her nose. Her mouth was twisted in thought and her eyes sparkled in the light of the flashlights. She really was beautiful.

While those thoughts flew through Tim’s mind Lucy was thinking about his comment about the wolf whistlers. That had happened at the very start of their shift and lasted no more than two seconds. Lucy wasn’t even sure they had been whistling at her and she had completely forgotten about it until Tim brought it up just now. Funny that he would remember.

They were both pulled out of their thoughts by a sudden commotion further out in the water:

“DID YOU NOT THERE IS NO PIE!”

“DO NOT THERE IS NO DIE!”

“DO OR DO NOT THERE IS NO TRY!”

Were being yelled over each other.

“What are they doing?” Tim asked looking at the group out in the water.

They were in a circle. Jackson had just given Nolan a high five then they were under again.

“I think they are playing the guess what I said under the water game,” Lucy chuckled.

Tim was about to reply but he was cut off by “How much wood could a woodchuck chuck if a woodchuck could chuck wood” being shouted in unison followed by bickering about who said it first.

“I’m going back out to join them. You going to come?” Lucy asked turning her attention from the group back to Tim.

“I don’t need to be a part of that.”

“Come on Tim. You’re hot and dirty.” She still meant it literally. Really. He was covered in soot. Stupid double entendres.

He raised is eyebrows.

“Just get in the water,” Lucy said splashing water at him to vent her frustration with how flustered she was getting.

He wiped the water from his face and a small smile appeared at the corner of his mouth. “Fine.”

Lucy beamed back at him as he stood up and walked back to the shop to discard his remaining clothes then turned her attention back to her friends.

“It’s not Angeles Direct, you’ve already guessed that three times,” Nyla was saying to Jackson

“That’s what it sounds like,” he argued “and it’s definitely closer to that than ‘embroidery period.’”

“That was my first guess. I heard wrong,” Nyla shot back.

“Oh ya cuz ‘and was dressed’ and ‘indoors divest’ were so much closer.”

Any further argument was cut-off by Nolan. “I’ve got it: Angela’s the best,” he said confidently.

“Yes and yes,” Angela confirmed.

“Your turn Nyla.”

There was a brief silence as they all went back under the water followed by a flurry of screamed “this is stupid.”

“Happy now?” Came a quieter voice beside her and Lucy nearly jumped out of the water. She had been so wrapped up watching her friends she hadn’t even noticed that Tim had made his way back down the beach and was now sitting beside her in the water.

She smiled and nodded. “Aren’t you?”

He gave a non-committal shrug. “We’ll see after I get roped into whatever’s going on out there,” he offered but there was no bite to it. He was even smiling, although mostly with his eyes, as he looked at their friends.

“Well let’s go find out,” Lucy replied as she led the way into the deeper water.

As they approached the group they watched them go up and down and listened to their guesses.

“And further than game”

“Comforters at game”

“Temperatures endgame”

“Stanford is endgame”

“Checkers is a game.” “At least that’s a real sentence”

“Bradford has game?” “That can’t be right he most definitely doesn’t”

Then just as Tim and Lucy joined the group “Chenford is endgame!” Shouted by Angela who upon realizing Tim and Lucy had joined them turned to Jackson.

“This ones not on me it was your sentence.”

Jackson stood stunned for a second looking desperately between Tim, Lucy and Angela then swiftly closed his eyes and yelled “MARCO.”

There was a brief silence then Nolan yelled “POLO” and everyone was swimming away from Jackson at top speed. Everyone except Tim who was giving Lucy a look that said. “See what you got me into? I told you so.”

But she was busy swimming off with the others, grateful for the distraction. So he rolled his eyes and joined the game. The water did feel amazing although he wasn’t about to admit that to her.

Calls of MARCO POLO and laughter filled the air as everybody took their turn being it: Jackson tagged Nolan who tagged Lucy who tagged Nyla who tagged Jackson who tagged Tim who tagged Nolan who tagged Angela who tagged Jackson who tagged Tim who tagged Lucy. Well he meant to tag Lucy. He reached his arm out and jumped towards her “POLO” but she was closer than he thought and instead of the tips of his finger tagging her shoulder he jumped right into her. He hit her hard and she responded to being knocked off her feet and down into the water instinctively by reaching for the nearest thing to prevent drowning, which happened to be him. So when he opened his eyes her arms were around his neck and her legs around his hips and her face was only about an inch from his own as she coughed up water for the second time that day.

“Are you ok?” He asked moving a piece of hair that had fallen into her face behind her ear.

She nodded but continued to cough as he absentmindedly stroked her back.

“You caught me by surprise,” she breathed “I didn’t know we were playing full contact Marco Polo.”

He let out a relieved laugh, “I’m sorry.”

“A real Tim Bradford apology I never thought I’d see it in person,” Lucy teased earning an eye roll from Tim. This close Lucy could see all the different shades of blue in his eyes even in the dark.

“It was an accident.”

“So it wasn’t some sort of Tim Test to see how I would handle a fight in the water?”

“No. You got your last Tim test a year ago when you stopped being my rookie.”

“I can’t believe it’s been a year already,” she said. “Then again we’ve been through enough for an entire career,” she added as her hand reflexively moved from his neck where it was playing with his hair to the tattoo on her her ribs.

That’s when it dawned on her just how close her and Tim were, pressed together without a shred of clothing between them. She had felt so comfortable and content she hadn’t realized the gravity of the situation and what it could lead to. She was about to put some space between them when his hand covered hers over the tattoo marking her supposed day of death. The day he saved her from being buried alive. Although he would say it marked the first day of the rest of her life. The day she saved herself.

And the desire to move away died in an instant.

“I kept it,” she said quietly, “because of what you said.” “Because it’s a reminder that I’m a survivor. And that my team will always have my back.”

Tim was looking at her with an expression more open than she’d ever seen. “I have one of those,” he replied softly lifting her hand up and moving it to rest on his lower left abdomen. She was confused at first but as she felt the skin beneath her finger tips she realized it was scarred. The scar from when he was shot on her second day and she pulled him out of the line of gunfire.

She smiled and looked directly into his eyes.

“It’s a good thing we have each other in our lives,”

“Sure is,”

She was just about to lean in and close the distance between them when a voice interrupted.

“Hey you two. Keep it PG or get a room. This is a family outing.” It was Nyla.

Lucy laughed as she untangled her self from Tim and in that moment she realized two things. 1) this was most definitely her family and 2) she would very happily come back to the beach. Maybe next time she’d just bring Tim, maybe even as her boyfriend.

#the rookie #chenford #lucy chen #tim bradford #nyla harper #angela lopez #jackson west #john nolan

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