#2) i can count on one hand the amount of tv shows ive actually finished. i don't even rewatch them either

[coffinflop]

rewatching fantasy high for the fourth (4th) time....i might have a problem

[deamstellarus]

In Viata Asta (3)

Pairing: Stucky x Reader Word Count: 6k Warnings: Uhm…none? Maybe injuries and language?

A/N: Sorry this update is so late! My work schedule was shit last week so I was behind on editing and posting. So! I thought posting a little early would help make up for it, and it’s the longest so far? Also yes I know, this gif doesn’t have that much to do with this update but I love how it looks.

Series Masterlist | Part 1 | Part 2 | Part 3

You woke up to murmured voices and mechanical beeps. You were in a bed in a very white room. You could only assume it was the infirmary of S.H.I.E.L.D. headquarters. Several IVs were attached to your arm. A woman with long dark hair in a bun and a white lab coat jotted something down on a clipboard beside you, then took her leave silently. Something was making your brain feel hazy. Your bets were on the strong antiseptics in the air, but it was more likely whatever pain meds they were feeding you. Your hand was bandaged now, your back probably was too for how tight it felt. You started to sit up in bed.

“You don’t want to do that, zvezdochka. With your luck, you’d probably pull all your stitches.” Natasha sat next to your bed in an uncomfortable chair, staring intensely at the screen of her tablet. She set it down on the small side table next to you, and pushed a button on a remote. Your bed shifted you into a seated position. She held a white cup with a straw to your lips. You drank greedily, the cool water soothing your dry throat. 

“How long...?” You croaked. 

“Only twenty-four hours. You lost a decent amount of blood but we got you back soon enough.”

Then why did it feel like you were laying on fire?

“Your back was practically shredded from the rocks.” Had you said that out loud? “You needed a few stitches but you’ll be fine. The boys should be back in a few minutes with snacks, if you’re hungry.”

You nodded. Or tried to; your neck was stiff. Natasha went back to her tablet, so you closed your eyes for a few more minutes before Steve and Sam’s voices echoed through the otherwise quiet space.

“Look who’s up. Miss Rough and Tumble.” Sam’s toothy grin lit up the room.

“How are you feeling, Blue?” Steve’s ocean eyes were filled with concern. He looked perfectly okay. As if he hadn’t almost drowned in an evil river. Stupid super soldier serum.

“Just peachy, Cap.”

“I thought we had a deal.”

“Sorry… Steve.” You smirked. Your stomach grumbled. Loudly. He chuckled and plopped the white paper bag he held on your lap. You opened it, smiling to yourself when you found a couple buttery croissants and one of those twisted glazed doughnuts. Natasha was giving away all of your secrets it seems. You chose a croissant, biting into the warm, flaky pastry. It was glorious.

“I see you still can't go very long without getting yourself into some kind of trouble," a familiar voice said. 

"Sorry, sir,  I—" Steve started before you cut him off.

"To be fair, I was doing fine on my own until these hooligans showed up." You muttered, mouth full, lazily gesturing to Steve, Natasha, and Sam, who stared at you indignantly.

"Don't be like that, Baby Blue!"

Fury looked unimpressed. "Excuses are—"

“...just lies we tell ourselves to justify doing something poorly." You finished his phrase, then swallowed. "It's nice to see you too, Nick."

"Nick?" Sam gasped.

"What, did you think his name was just Fury?"

"He doesn't exactly like when anyone calls him that," Sam grumbled.

"Aww, Nick! I knew you were going soft on me." 

Fury grunted, but eventually relented and came over to pat your shoulder until you flinched at his touch.

"Heal up, Agent. We’ll talk about the incident when you’re standing on your own two feet again," he said as he walked to the door.

"Not an agent," you called after him.

"We'll see about that." He threw out.

You pouted. You knew it was unbecoming of you, but this is what you'd been dreading. You didn't want to come back to S.H.I.E.L.D. That time of your life turned out to be so traumatic you ended up in a cabin by yourself for two years. But the reality is, you knew he'd get his way in the end. He always did.

__________

As far as doctors went, Dr. Alexandra Marks was patient and kind, and clearly had years of experience dealing with agents that tended to make reappearances in her infirmary. She was thorough with her diagnostics and made sure to emphasize what you could, but more importantly could not, do while you were in the recovery phase. Stitches, a heavy dose of fluids, and an advanced topical solution to help “speed up cell production”, and you were patched together the best you could be. Supposedly, they had a machine that was designed to generate skin, called the Cradle. It could have prevented the scarring, but it was out of commission due to an update or something. To be honest, it sounded too much like a cross between a crazy science experiment and a magic trick. Just the thought made you wary.  

“While you’re still lucid, I need you to give me a report of what happened,” Natasha said after Dr. Marks and the boys left. She attached a keyboard to her tablet, pulling the kickstand out so the whole thing could rest on the bed tray. “It’s just better to do this while it’s still fresh in your mind.”

“Yeah, I know.” You frowned at the screen. Blips of the incident flashed through your mind. “Honestly, I’m not too sure what I actually remember. It feels like it’s all a blur.”

“Any little detail helps,” she pushed. “Anything at all.” 

Weren’t those guys just Hydra goons though? But if that were the case, then why did it feel like there’s something more to this?

“What aren’t you telling me?” 

Her face went through a series of micro-expressions that you would have missed had you not known to look for them.

“Is it not Hydra that came after us?”

“We don’t know. But… it doesn’t look like it at this point.” She sighed. “Just write the report for now.”

“Okay.”

So you did. Any little thing you could remember from the men to the river, you included in your retelling. For the most part, you didn’t remember the men standing out in any way more than they seemed out of place in the general store. The majority of the normal clientele wore flannels, sweatshirts, or thick hunting jackets. The sleek black jackets and black caps they’d been wearing made them stand out. That being said, everything was nondescript, no labels, no logos. Pretty generic bad guys if you were being honest. The only thing you could think of was the small tattoo on the side of one of their necks, but you hadn’t been close enough to see the actual design. 

Maybe that was just you being paranoid and projecting. The tattoo was probably just a tattoo. 

A couple hours later, Dr. Marks released you, with a promise that you wouldn’t do “anything unnecessary like your troublemaker friends.” You snickered at that.  

Natasha gave you a tour of what you now learned was the Avengers Compound in upstate New York. Apparently, S.H.I.E.L.D. has been running part of the agency out of the side buildings that were part of the campus since they re-established, while there was still a segment in D.C. She pointed out the different buildings and rooms during the brief tour, but you were distracted, rightfully so, by the sheer amount of agents that gave you judgemental stares the entire way to the main Avengers building. You steeled your nerves; you wouldn’t give them anything more before you could physically defend yourself.

You stepped into an elevator after Natasha, the smooth doors sliding silently shut behind you. You allowed your shoulders a break from the stiff, upright posture you’d taken.

“You alright?” Natasha asked.

“Yup.”

“Ignore them. The most fun the majority of them have is over rumors and gossip.” Natasha said. “F.R.I.D.A.Y., third floor please.”

“Of course, Agent Romanoff,” a voice responded from above.

“A.I.?” you questioned. Natasha nodded. 

“F.R.I.D.A.Y. is one of Tony’s creations. She’ll help you with anything you need.”

“Huh, well thanks in advance then, F.R.I.D.A.Y.”

“It’s my pleasure… I cannot find your identification in any system, miss. What shall I call you?”

“Oh, you can call me Blue?”

“Very well. Enjoy your stay, Blue.”

The doors opened, revealing a hallway that lead to the left and right of the elevator and seemingly wrapped around the perimeter of the building. In the center, you were able to look down over a common area of sorts, with a variety of couches, tables, an oversized TV, and a kitchen off to the side. Natasha turned to the right, passing several doors before she stopped.

“This is your room.”

The door in front of you was a glossy white with a biometric scanner to the side. 

“Put your hand to the scanner,” she said. You did. A blue light shone through your hand, then with a soft click, the door slid open. The room was bigger than you thought it’d be, but knowing who owned the building, you didn’t expect anything less. There was a plush bed on one side of the room, a desk with a swivel chair on the opposite wall. Tall windows allowed natural light in the space. A fluffy rug and long drapes helped make the room less cold and clinical. But that wasn’t what drew your attention the most. 

Draped across the bed was the plush purple blanket Clint had bought you when you were first brought back to headquarters. It was so, so soft. On top of that was your green duffle bag. It was the one thing you took with you everywhere. It stayed stocked and ready for if you needed to leave at short notice.

“Thank you, Natasha.” 

“Of course,” she nodded.

"No chance of me going back to the cabin, huh?" You asked. Because as lonely as it had been there, it was yours, for the most part, and had become your safe place.

She shook her head. "Sorry, Blue. It wasn't discovered yet, but now they've seen your face, they know you're in the area. We can't take that chance."

You knew that, of course. She only confirmed it.

“There’s an ensuite bathroom behind that door, and a walk-in closet next to it,” Natasha pointed out. “It’s not the cabin, but it’s a good place to stay. You’ll like it here,” You nodded. 

She pulled you into her arms, her hands holding you like she didn't want to let go. 

"You scared me, zvezdochka," she whispered into your hair. 

"I know. I’m sorry.” It was rare for her to show so much emotion. As long as you’d known her, Natasha had always kept her feelings hidden.

A cough at the door disrupted the mood. 

“What does a guy have to do to get the famous Widow to hold him like that?” The man leaned against the door frame, dressed in jeans and a vintage band t-shirt. It seemed far too casual for such a well-known billionaire.

Beside you, Natasha pulled away and rolled her eyes. Like a switch, her blasé facade was back in full force.

“Tony, this is Blue. Blue, Tony Stark,” she introduced.

“What kind of name is Blue?” 

“It’s a nickname,” you said.

“Uh huh.” He squinted at you. “And your real name would be?”

“Leave it alone, Stark,” Natasha growled.

“I just find it strange that not only is there no record of her in S.H.I.E.L.D.’s database, but I can’t find her anywhere. Not a name, a city, a school, medical record. Nothing.”

Natasha bristled. Her eyes were narrowed slits. “I said leave it alone, Stark. She’s a personal friend of mine and Barton’s. Leave it alone.”

Tony glared at Natasha for a moment before yielding. 

“Fine, but we’re talking about this later.” To you, he said, “Welcome to the compound, kid.”

He took his leave, and Natasha shook her head. 

“He doesn’t like when he doesn’t know everything about something or someone. Unfortunately, he will get his way eventually. He’s pushy, but it comes from a good place.”

“Don’t worry about me, Tasha. I can handle him. Besides, I am living under his roof for now, he has a right to know what he wants to know.” 

“Only if you want to.” She puts a hand to your shoulder, before she walks to the door. But his inquiry did make you wonder…

“Why isn’t there a SHIELD file for me, or at least Agent M?”

“It may have gotten...lost when I released the files to the public.” 

“You deleted mine instead of yours?” You remember she had a list of aliases, most from before she joined “the good guys.”

She shrugged. “It was time for a new chapter anyway.” She waved it off as if it meant nothing, but she risked her own neck so you could remain nameless.

“Thank you, sestrenka.” She was always looking out for you.

“Dinner is at six. You’ll meet most of the rest of the team then. Take a nap, you look like you need it.” She winked.

“Tell me the truth, how bad does it look?” You tilted your head, indicating your back.

“Eh, it’s just a few stitches.” With that, she left, copper curls bouncing behind her. And really you had no choice but to take a nap like she said. Especially when the bed looked that comfortable. __________

Natasha lied. That was your only thought as you looked at your body in the mirror of your bathroom. It was not just a few stitches. Forty-seven in total. You cringed as you read off the report FRIDAY supplied. Hearing it from Dr. Marks, and reading it off the report, hadn’t quite prepared you visually for the reality of your injuries. From what you could tell, your back was covered in black zig-zags, reminiscent of Frankenstein's monster. At least as much as you could see that peeked out from underneath the white bandages and gauze. Plum-colored splotches covered your body. In addition to your back, your right hand also received six stitches, and your sprained ankle was now wrapped. And there were bags under your eyes. You looked awful and felt like a walking bruise. 

“The meeting will be starting in fifteen minutes, Blue,” F.R.I.D.A.Y.’s voice startled you.

“Thanks.” You’d have to get used to never quite being alone alone. 

Dinner passed by pretty well the night before, by your standards at least. Tony had apologized for his aggressive questioning, with a nudge from Pepper Potts, however wary of you he may still be. That was alright for now. Steve and Sam had taken the initiative to make you feel included in the conversations, though you were more content to observe the people around you. You were introduced to Col. James Rhodes, who had a dry sense of humor and held himself like a military man, and Dr. Bruce Banner, whose alter ego was a stark contrast to the mild-tempered man that had sat beside you. By far, the most fascinating member you’d met was Vision, an android with an English accent who reminded you vaguely of a curious child. 

Now you were heading to a meeting Fury requested you attend. A loose-fitted tee and a pair of sweatpants and you were on your way out the door, wishing you’d had the forethought to have packed makeup in your duffle bag. While you never needed it on the mountain, it would have helped make you look marginally more presentable and less dead. Especially on the walk through the interconnected buildings to the conference room where you stuck out like a sore thumb. Maybe Natasha could take you out to pick some things up soon.

You cracked the door open. Eight and a half pairs of eyes followed you to the empty seat next to Sam. You were the last one there. Of course. Fury stood at the head of the table, Maria Hill next to him, arms behind her back. She raised a perfectly sculpted eyebrow at you. Steve, Natasha, Tony, and three agents in uniform filled out the rest of the table. A projection screen behind Fury exhibited pictures of several men you didn’t recognize. 

“Now that we’re all here, let’s begin,” Fury said. He pointed between two of the five pictures on the screen. “These two men matched the facial recognition we were able to get off the cameras at the general store where the Captain and Agent M were first shot at, amongst civilians. There were no casualties in the store.”

You squinted. The men looked familiar now, especially without the hats to obstruct their faces. In the right image was the man you’d known to have the tattoo. Now that you could see it, on the left side of his neck, the small symbol looked like three triangles overlapping.

“They were found dead in their vehicle on the side of the road, SUV wrapped around a tree. This is confirmed with the reports Captain Rogers and Agent M gave upon arrival.” He pointed to the next two images. “These two were killed on sight by the extraction team in search of the Captain and Agent M.” He pointed to the last of the five head shots. “This last man was interrogated briefly by Agent Romanoff before he was terminated.”

“So were they Hydra agents from the mountain base?” Steve asked, confusion clear on his face.

“Not exactly,” Fury said.

“He wasn’t Hydra,” Natasha said. “He said Hydra was a group run by hot-headed leaders with imperfect ideals. He said what they were was bigger and better than Hydra could ever hope to be.”

“And who are ‘they’?” Steve pressed.

Natasha shrugged. “He didn’t say, just that there were more of them and now that they had a ‘confirmation,’” she made quotes with her fingers, “they’d have all they needed soon enough to execute the program. He didn’t elaborate on what the program was or what exactly they’d confirmed. But before I could really press him for more, he killed himself. Cyanide tooth capsule.”

“Long story short, we’re led to believe these were not Hydra agents that tracked the two of you down. There were no markings on the body that would express allegiance to the group, nor did any declare their motto.”

“So what are you saying?” Sam questioned.

“I’m saying there is another organization who has at least one of the two of you as their target of interest and until we know who they are, you need to watch your backs.”

“No offense, sir,” one of the agents began. “But what would terrorist organization want with her?” She was pretty, blonde, and had an intense look about her. She wasn’t outright rude, she had a point at least; you’ve basically been in isolation for two years. Besides, she had to be more than capable to be in this room to begin with; that didn’t mean her comment didn’t irk you. You pushed down the urge to get defensive, and schooled your face into a neutral mask.

Simultaneously, all eyes were on you.

“At the moment we’re not quite sure,” Fury admitted. “Agent M’s official history within S.H.I.E.L.D. is otherwise non-existent as far as the database is concerned. However, that doesn’t mean no one would recognize her if they worked under S.H.I.E.L.D. before the disbanding.”

“You think this group is a bunch of ex-S.H.I.E.L.D., ex-Hydra rogue agents?” Steve interjected.

“Anything is possible,” Fury said. “For now, it’s best to assume Rogers was the target and Agent M was just an additional person of interest by proxy.”  

“Keep your eyes and ears open for anything that could be related to this organization.” Maria advised. “If there really is another large-scale terrorist group among us, it’d be best to nip it in the bud as soon as possible.”

After the briefing, Fury held you back, as most of the others left the room. Maria relaxed by his side, her shoulders not quite as taut.

“You’re reinstated as an active agent, effective immediately, Agent M.” Fury held your gaze with his good eye. 

“I never said I wanted to come back to S.H.I.E.L.D.. In fact, I distinctly remember telling you I never wanted to be put in that situation again.” You glared back. The fingers on your left hand dug into your palm.

“We all have to do things we don’t want to do.” His large hand cupped your shoulder. “Just because you run away from something, doesn’t mean it goes away. You are good at what you do, and I refuse to let you waste your skills anymore.”

“But I—” He cut you off. 

“You’re not the only one who’s lost someone, Blue.”

He rarely called you by your nickname. It was always ‘Agent.’ You sighed. As difficult as Fury has always been, he’d never given you bad advice. He was the one who fought for you to stay and train to be a S.H.I.E.L.D. agent in the first place all those years ago. 

And yeah, maybe he was a tad softer on you than on the others. You’d seen him as a father figure of sorts. If he thought you should be reinstated and otherwise get your head out of your ass, then you really couldn’t argue.

“Fine.”

“I knew you’d see it my way.” Fury smirked, patting your shoulder twice heading towards the door. “As soon as you’re cleared for it, you’ll start training. Rest up. This little incident tells me you’ve lost your touch.”

__________

You sat on a couch in the common room a week later, skimming through the data, searching for anything you could connect to an unknown terrorist group. Without a name, it was hard to even associate what little frays you did find, and you were led to dead end after dead end. You set the laptop on the seat beside you and pressed the heels of your palms to your eyes. You looked to your Stark-issued phone for the time. It was well past midnight. This wasn’t the first time you’d been unable to sleep this week due to your mind racing about the implications of an unknown group trying to bring devastation for whatever reason they’ve deemed justifiable. The bad feeling in your gut only intensified the more frustrated you got at the lack of information. You really wanted to punch something, but you weren’t cleared to do more than brisk walking, lest you pull a stitch and elongate your recovery period.

You went to the kitchen and poured yourself some water. The cool liquid did nothing to soothe your restlessness. So instead, you paced the halls, a habit you picked up since you arrived. You passed the entryway to the lab. More specifically, Tony and Bruce’s lab. The other common occurrence you’d noticed every night were the lights in the lab always being on this late in the night. It seemed like Bruce usually went to bed early in the evening, preferring to start his day earlier than most. Which left Tony as the only possible night owl. 

You hesitated by the door before pulling it open and wandering through the cool-toned lights in the lab. Classic rock played softly through the speakers. Tony stood at table at the far end of the room, back hunched over. He was poking at something that caused small sparks to shoot from the device. His masked face was probably still too close to the object. 

You pulled out a stool from a neighboring table smoothly, just enough to make some noise, not enough to startle him. The masked tilted up, then focused once again on the task at hand.

“Not asleep, Agent M?” He said with an ever-so-slight sneer.

“You can call me Blue, you know.” Tony hadn’t warmed up to you like you’d hoped in the past week. He’d been distant, always in the lab. Natasha assured you that was normal for him though, so you took her word for it. 

“Do I know that?” He snipped. He worked in silence for a few moments, then he put down his tools and flipped up his mask. His eyes were rimmed in red, most likely from exhaustion. “You know, I just find it odd that everything was all fine and dandy until Rogers and Co took a trip to Washington State. Now there’s a new terrorist organization we have to look out for, and you show up with no official identity in any database on the planet, and one word from Fury and we’re supposed to just be okay with that? I’m not exactly a big believer of coincidences.”

“Just ask what you want to know, Stark. I don’t want to always feel like I’m tip-toeing around you.” Because it was annoying. 

“What’s your history with S.H.I.E.L.D.?” 

“Natasha and Clint were on a mission, found me as a teen in an abandoned warehouse. Brought me back to S.H.I.E.L.D.. I was an agent for three years.”

“What made you leave?” His gaze shifted elsewhere.

“Bad mission. I lost people I cared about.” His eyes found yours. “And with Hydra discovered inside the agency and S.H.I.E.L.D. dissolving, I just got out while I could.”

He was quiet for a long time. Absently, you twirled a random screw between your fingers.

“Tell me about the mission.”

You squeezed your eyes closed, sighing deeply. You recalled your worst nightmare like it was yesterday. You opened your mouth to begin when he put a hand up.

“Sorry. You don’t need to tell me.” He waved you away. “I can be insensitive when I’m tired.”

“It’s alright, I understand. Long story short, it went really, really wrong, and I couldn’t handle it anymore. I was young-”

“You’re still young, kid,” he quipped.

“-and I already couldn’t remember my past. Losing people, people I was especially close to, was too much.” Your breath shuddered. “I didn’t want to have to go through that again, so I left. Fury kept tabs on me, same with Natasha and Clint. But I swore I wasn’t going to be an agent anymore.”

“And now, here you are.”

“Here I am.”

Tony nodded. He got up unexpectedly, shuffling over to a hidden cupboard that housed a coffee maker. He came back with two mugs, steam spirals swirled in the air. You took a sip. Minty.

“It’s a peppermint blend. Some candy cane Christmas bullshit I got in a ‘thank you’ basket over the holiday. It’s barely coffee, not even caffeinated, but it tastes nice. Supposed to help clear the mind or something.”

You shrugged. Because it was good.

“So… you don’t remember your past?”

“I don’t even remember my name.”

“That must be tough.”

“Mhm,” you agreed.

“Listen, I’m sorry for the rough start. Genuinely. I spend so much of my time trying to do the best to defend against the bad, that I sometimes jump to conclusions and can be…”

“Overly suspicious?” You supplied.

“Yeah.”

“No worries, Stark…”

“Tony.”

“Tony,” you smiled. “I would have thought the same thing. I mean hell, I almost embedded a knife in Captain America’s head when I first met him.”

“I want to do that sometimes and I’ve known him for years.” He chuckled into his mug.

“So we’re good?” You didn’t want to just assume. A heart to heart doesn’t always form a friendship, but at least maybe you’d be on good terms now.

“We’re good, kid.” He smiled, a genuine grin on his lips. “Come on, you can help me test this new version of my gauntlets.”

Huh. Maybe you were wrong. __________

Another week passed before you were cleared for active duty. The scarring was… definitely there. Harsh, red lines spider-webbed around your back. Apparently, it healed faster than Dr. Marks anticipated, especially without the cradle. She seemed convinced the shorter recovery time meant there was a high chance the scarring would fade quickly as well. You weren’t exactly a vain person, but it didn’t look pretty as of now. At least you could cover it up easily. 

You were placed into a random group of S.H.I.E.L.D. agents, Group C apparently, and were given a schedule that listed off times for hand-to-hand combat training, weight training, endurance training, and shooting practice. You were convinced Steve loved to see you and the other recruits suffer as he pushed you all to run the laps of the course around the compound. The first day, you were dead after three miles, collapsing on the ground when the muscles in your legs gave up and lying on gravel sounded like a better idea. Steve only ordered you to get up and run again. You might have grumbled something about seeing if you’d ever save his life again.

Now you were able to keep up with the group. You found it a necessity, as you’d overheard in the locker room how they didn’t like you because you were “definitely sleeping with the Captain” or why else would you be there. You’d caught a stink eye more than once, and decided you had to push harder and tune them out. The chatter was useless. You knew the truth, so their opinions didn’t matter, but you didn’t want Steve to be accused of favoritism. He didn’t deserve any unnecessary backlash. 

By far, Natasha was thrilled to have you in training again. 

“You’re having too much fun with this Natasha,” you groaned from the mat. 

You were constantly being thrown by her, taunted that you’d lost your reflexes from being out of practice. You always ended up sore and bruised after a session. The snickers of the other agents really pissed you off, but you couldn’t exactly bite their heads off. Plus, even when you were in your best shape, you weren’t always able to out-Natasha Natasha; you’d only done it a few times. You knew first hand the rest of the agents in the room couldn’t do that. And you’d out-fought enough of them to know that.

“You’re making it easy on me,” she pulled you to your feet. “Maybe you should practice with someone with a little less agility for now?” She tilted her head to Sam, who’d over heard as he sauntered in and pulled a bitch face at her.

“Oh that’s low, girl. Real low.” But he joined you on the mat anyway.

Sam’s strikes were powerful and quick, like a boxer. He shuffled his feet, throwing punches at varying intervals. You dodged and blocked what you could. He got in a few hits before you picked up his pattern. That was the problem with most people in hand-to-hand. The body naturally wants to move in a rhythm, just like in running, but it’s too predictable in fighting, which is one of the reasons it was so hard to fight Natasha. She was slippery as a snake and it was hard to anticipate her next moves at the speed she moved.

You swung your arm out, your fist clipping him in his unprotected ribs, jumping out of range after. He stumbled back. You took the opportunity to rush him, diving low last minute to the space beneath his legs. You half-turned in your crouch and kicked your leg out, knocking him off balance and crashing into the mat. Finally.

“Adequate,” Natasha complimented. “But I’ve seen you do better. That was sloppy.”

You nodded, panting. She was right, but you’d take then win. It would take you a while to get back to what your skills had been, but even you had to admit. The ache of your abused muscles was actually rather nostalgic. __________

It was well after dinner when a knock at your door had you sitting up, causing the ice packs to tumble off your body. You sighed.

“Come in!”

Natasha stepped in, eyeing the ice packs. 

“Have we been too rough on you?” She teased. You didn’t take the bait.

“Nah. Just not used to it yet.”

Natasha nodded. “Just wanted to let you know Clint and the others are almost here. The quinjet should be landing in five, if you want to join us.”

“Of course.” You stumbled off the bed, and slipped your shoes on as you followed her to the hangar.

The hangar was cleaner than you would have thought. Relatively spotless and spacious. You and Natasha joined Steve, Sam, and Vision by the marker number 1 just as the rumble of an engine made the quinjet known. The noise echoed loudly in the space as the jet landed smoothly in its spot. The engines cut off, and with the high-pitched whir of the propellers winding down. The door opened down into a ramp. At first, no one came down, then there was a stumbling, mummy racing down the ramp toward you. Clint scooped you up into his arms, twirling you around, rambling a mile a minute.

“I thought Tasha was messing with me when she said you were here!” He was shouting in your ear, but you couldn’t get a word in edgewise. “When did you get here? How long are you staying? Wait! Are you back for real?”

“Barton, I’m pretty sure she can’t breathe.” Natasha’s voice cut through his excitement.

“Oh, right.” He plopped you down. You staggered before you caught yourself.

“It’s good to see you too, Robin Hood.” 

His eyes flitted over you, not overlooking the bruises from training this week.

“Geeze, you look awful. What happened?” 

“What is with the two of you?” You looked between him and Natasha. “You can’t just tell people they look awful when they’ve been beaten up. Besides, you’re one to talk,” you sassed. Clint was covered in butterfly bandages and deep purple bruises. “Can’t you go on one mission without coming back like you belong under a pyramid?”

“‘S not my fault.” Clint scratched the back of his neck. You stared at him pointedly. “Well, not all my fault.”

“Some things never change.” You grinned.

“Blue, this is Wanda Maximoff.” Natasha held her hand out to a girl around your age, with long auburn hair and sparkling green eyes. She looked at you hesitantly.

“Hi, I’m Blue.” You did a little wave, then immediately regretted it for how dumb you probably looked. 

“It’s nice to meet you.” She enveloped you in strong arms. She had an accent you couldn’t place, but it wasn’t so thick you couldn’t understand her. “I’ve heard quite a bit about you from Natasha and Clint. It’s nice to match the face with the name.”

You smiled, because she seemed very sweet. You could already see yourself being friends with her. You noticed Vision hovering just behind her, and when she pulled away, her hand reached back to find his. That was cute. You also now had questions, but that was for another time. You certainly weren’t close enough to just ask anyway.

Behind you, Steve was embracing a man with shoulder-length brown hair. He looked just as built and strong as Steve, maybe an inch shorter in height. Steve’s eyes were closed, his lips were moving, speaking too low for you to hear. The intimacy of their moment had you assuming they were more than friends. Definitely together. You wondered if the public had that knowledge, but it was more than likely not. The media would probably have a field day with that info.

Steve opened his eyes, meeting yours with a smile before he stepped back and called out to you.

“Hey Blue! Come over here and meet Bucky!”

His companion turned around and the breath caught in your throat. You did a double take. After all these years, you never thought you’d see him again. Maybe you’d dreamed you’d find your long lost friend, hoping that you both hadn’t changed too much to pass each other on the street someday without realizing. But you would recognize those eyes anywhere. 

Before you could open your mouth, he spoke. 

“Ingeras?” _________

A/N: Just now realized I haven’t given any translations for words so far, but I will from now on!

zvezdochka (Russian) - little star sestrenka (Russian) - sister, sis ingeras (Romanian) - angel

_________

In Viata Asta Taglist:  @rvgrsbrns​ @artsyspacebee​ @thelovelydreamer17​

[nachtgraves]

Hey, I'm a fan of your work over in Ao3! I have a prompt idea for a Yuuri! On Ice fic. Could you do a 5+1 kinda thing where Yuuri and Victor are dating (I was kinda picturing it to be an AU because we all know they would move in together) and whenever Yuuri comes over to Victor's apartment and stays late he hints around to staying over for the night but Victor is a very dense boy and doesn't get until, like, the end. BONUS If you put an unnecessary amount of angst and then a huge amount of fluff

I FINALLY FINISHED IT. I’m so sorry it took forever but it is done! I deviated a bit with your prompt, but I hope you still enjoy (: This is also my first 5+1 type of thing so hope I did that decently. And thank you!

Title: Five Times Yuuri was Obvious and the One Time Victor Finally Got It // AO3Word Count: 4,960Tags/Warnings: G/PG. College AU, misunderstandings, established relationship, Victor is oblivious but means well, minor background relationships.

1.

Yuurireally likes Victor. Like a lot. He’dnever have thought that the guy he saw coming into the ice rink where he workedpart-time would ever look twice at him. But now here he is, on the olderRussian’s couch watching some dumb TV show he, at least, has not been payingattention to, while said Russian is getting the takeout they ordered from thedoor.

“—nkyou. Have a nice night.”

Yuuri’sphone buzzes. A text from Phichit. Victor’s moved to the kitchen and Yuuriknows from experience that Victor will bite his hand if he tries to help.Victor has weird and outdated views on hosting guests, especially boyfriendshe’s still trying to do the whole impressing thing with. Yuuri doesn’t know howto tell the man that he just needs to laugh and Yuuri is gone.

From Phichit / 7:34 PM

So ur not coming back tonight riiiiiight?????Ive not taught u well if u doI will be v disappointed yuuri

Yuuri’sface heats even though he did come over to Victor’s with the intention to notbe sent off to the trains to go back to his and Phichit’s apartment at the endof the night. He doesn’t even care if they do things. Well, he does, and would not be opposed, but he mainly justwants to wake up to Victor in the morning.

It’sa weekday, but neither he nor Victor have classes or work in the morning. Yuurihas work in the afternoon and that’s during the time Victor usually comes tothe rink to skate, now with the added bonus of light flirting and making plansfor date nights when it’s Yuuri’s shift to moderate the skaters. He’s preparedto withstand the teasing from Phichit and Yuuko should he and Victor come tothe ice rink together, Yuuri wearing the same clothes Phichit had last seen himin, or, better yet, in something of Victor’s.

To Phichit / 7:37 PM

We’re eating takeout and watching a movie.But if I happen to miss the last train…

Yuuriadds a fingers crossed emoji before hitting send. Phichit’s reply is immediateand Yuuri’s cheeks flush at the series of peach, eggplant, and kissy faceemojis.

“Dinneris served!”

Yuuristuffs his phone face down in his lap, startled by Victor. His boyfriend isstanding with two plates loaded with naan and a chicken curry at the foot ofthe coffee table. He tilts his head. “Is everything okay, Yuuri?”

Yuurinods, mentally willing the flush on his cheeks to die down. “Yeah! Yup.Everything’s fine.”

Victorraises a brow and sets the plates on the table. “Okay… Well, do you wantanything to drink?”

Theydecide on some wine and Yuuri vocalizes that he is limiting himself to oneglass, two glasses max. Victor laughsat him but puts the bottle away after pouring the both of them modest glassfulsbefore joining Yuuri on the couch.

“Atoast?” Victor asks, raising his glass.

“Towhat?”

Victorhums, lips pursed in thought. “Delicious food, a hopefully interesting movie,and the best company I could ask for?” The little smile Victor flashes isentirely unfair. Yuuri’s face is bright red when their glasses clink togetherand Victor is unapologetic.

Theystart the movie, an action-adventure-comedy type thing that had won severalawards that neither of them had managed to see when it was in theaters. As theyclean off their plates and nurse their wines, Yuuri gradually closes thedistance between Victor and himself until their shoulders press against oneanother. Yuuri curls his legs up and leans against Victor. His boyfriendglances away from the screen and huffs a laugh, but throws an arm aroundYuuri’s shoulders and lets Yuuri lean further into Victor. They meet for abrief kiss that has Yuuri arching for more when Victor pulls away.

“We’llmiss the movie,” is Victor’s excuse in the face of Yuuri pouting. Hetemporarily placates Yuuri with one more kiss and tucking Yuuri closer to hischest, cheek against Yuuri’s head.

Yuuri’sonly got half a mind on the movie, even though it is actually interesting andif Yuuri wasn’t thinking about other things he would have been just asenthralled by the plot as Victor is. But it’s getting later and later and themovie is longer than Yuuri thought it was, but it works in his favor since thelast train he can catch to go home arrives in the next twenty minutes at astation that is a ten minute walk away and there’s at least another thirtyminutes left of the movie. Yuuri fights the urge to stare at the clock on hisphone to see the minutes tick by.

Themovie ends and Yuuri’s missed the last train by eight minutes, assuming it wason time.

“Ohshit, I’m sorry, Yuuri. I lost track of time.” Victor looks incredibly guiltywhen he sees how late it is.

“Don’tworry about it,” Yuuri assures him. He feels a little bad that he somewhatorchestrated the situation and Victor seems to feel really bad about it.

Butthen Victor perks up in that way he does when he believes he has an incredibleidea. Yuuri has to hold back the preemptive yes.

“Lyft!”Victor exclaims.

“Ye—what?”

Victorgrins and unlocks his phone. “I’ll call you a Lyft. Let me just download theapp real quick.”

Yuuridoesn’t tell Victor that he has Lyft, as well as Uber, on his phone. While hehas found the services to be incredibly useful during nights out where no oneis capable of getting themselves home, currently, he has some very differentfeelings on the matter.

“Ah,yeah. Thanks.” Yuuri sighs as he gathers his things and Victor sorts out the Lyft.Victor cheerfully announces that Yuuri’s ride will arrive in moments. When itarrives, Victor walks him to the front of the building and Yuuri gets a kiss onthe cheek before sliding into the car.

Yuurireally likes Victor, but he wishes Victor could take a hint.

2.

WhenPhichit is determined, nothing can deter him.

“Okay.So clearly, your boyfriend is a little slow on the uptake, but! Now that I’mtaking charge of this, you will not be coming back here if I can help it.”

Yuuripretends to look affronted. “Are you trying to kick me out?”

Phichitplays coy and twirls a lock of hair. “Well.Only for like a night every once in a while.”

“Likeme being home hasn’t stopped you before.” Yuuri nudges his best friend. He’sgotten used to seeing, and sometimes hearing, some of Phichit’s closer friendsthe occasional morning.

Witha laugh, Phichit lets his entire weight fall onto Yuuri, causing the two tospread out on Yuuri’s bed.

“Phichit,get off!” Yuuri laughs. Phichit squirms until he’s pretty much starfished outatop Yuuri. “I can’t breathe!”

Phichitraises himself up and smirks at Yuuri. “Well, I wonder if there’s a certainRussian we know that would help you out.”

Facepink and laughing, Yuuri pushes Phichit off of him. “Shut up.”

“Alright,back to business. When is coming by?”

Yuurisearches for his phone, lost amid blankets. It’s trying to hide in a pillow andflashes several notifications from social media and a couple texts. There’s atext from Victor, flooded with exclamation marks, saying that he finished hiserrands earlier than expected and can be ready whenever Yuuri is.

“WheneverI want, it seems,” Yuuri answers. He shows Phichit the text and is just barelyquick enough to keep his phone out of the Thai boy’s reach when he grabs forit. “What are you trying to do?”

Phichitshrugs, eyebrows high on his head, eyes directed to the corner of the room.“Nothing,” he draws the word out like he’s not even sure what lie he was goingto come up with. “Anyway, time to slut you up.”

Yuuriis slightly afraid.

Victor’seyes widen when they meet up and Yuuri grudgingly admits to himself thatPhichit does know what he’s doing. Even if Yuuri wants to pull at the too-tightshirt that belongs to Phichit and squirm in the jeans that supposedly make hisass look ‘bitable’ and are definitely going to be more of a struggle to takeoff than they were to put on.

Theygo out to see the movie Victor’s been looking forward to and grab dinner at acute Spanish restaurant after. Victor animatedly goes over his favorite partsof the film, praising directing, acting, cinematography. He goes over the partsthat were lacking, but overall his expectations had been met. Yuuri watches himfondly, chiming in every once in a while, nodding along or disagreeing with oneaspect, but overall he lets Victor lead and is content with sipping wine and cataloguingthe Russian’s every gesture.

It’slate when they leave the restaurant, the walk to the nearest station quiet andmostly deserted. Victor reaches for Yuuri’s hand, and their fingers are linked,warm and loose, for the walk. They come to the point where they would need topart if they went to their own homes. Yuuri, gnaws on his bottom lip, wraps hisfree arm around his middle.

“Well…”Yuuri trails off, awkward, hopeful, waiting. “I’m that way.”

Victorfrowns slightly and Yuuri traps his bottom lip between his teeth, biting downhard. He looks up at Victor through his lashes, eyes wide, Phichit’s voicerunning through his head giving orders: Curve you neck, draw attention to yourmouth, show a hint of tongue—a hint, a flash! You gotta tease, Yuuri. You are not ice cream in an ice cream shop, there’sno sampling. You’re the display piece they can look at through the window, andcan only have if they take you home.

WhenVictor comes closer, leans down, Yuuri closes his eyes and meets his boyfriendhalfway for a lingering kiss. When they part, Yuuri is ready to nod, stomachfluttering and heart jumping.

Victorsqueezes Yuuri’s hand before he lets go. “Get home safe, Yuuri.”

Yuuri’shands, both empty, slide into his coat pockets. “Ah, yeah. You too.”

Theywalk their separate ways and Yuuri sends a text to Phichit.

To Phichit / 9:48 PM

Mission failed

3.

“Idon’t get it,” Yuuri whines. He shoves away his textbook and notes, floppingover on Victor’s coffee table. Victor, fiddling with a pen as he reads throughstudent work for the class he’s a TA for, looks up from the essay.

“What’reyou stuck on?”

Yuuriturns his textbook around and uses his pencil to point out the problem he’sbeen stuck on. God does he hate Gen Ed requirements.

Victorlooks over the page and comes around to sit beside Yuuri on the floor, lookingover Yuuri’s notes and the in-progress assignment that’s a review worksheet fora midterm-like test.

“You’reon the right track but you’re using the wrong formula,” Victor says after amoment. Using his pen, Victor writes out an equation that looks vaguelyfamiliar to Yuuri and he’s fairly certain he knows what some of the variablesmean. But it still doesn’t really help.

“Victor,” Yuuri whines again after attemptingthe problem with the new equation. He’s flipped through his notes and thetextbook, but still can’t figure out how and what to plug in to get the rightanswer. He’s really not looking forward to the upcoming test. Yuuri can alreadysee all the red marks that will make themselves comfortable on his paper.

Victorchuckles and ruffles Yuuri’s hair. “How about a food break?

Thespeed at which Yuuri perks up is comical, if the way Victor’s chuckles turninto full blown laughter is at all telling. Yuuri puts his schoolwork to theside in a somewhat organized pile, clearing space as he gets up. He followsafter Victor into the kitchen, seeing his boyfriend looking through his pantry.

“Areyou feeling pasta tonight?” Victor asks, looking over his shoulder.

Yuurinods, “Pasta sounds good.”

Withinthe hour, Yuuri and Victor are back in the living room, plates of some lemon,butter, garlic, and herb chicken and angel hair pasta set before them that hasYuuri salivating. They eat on the couch with the TV on and once the food iscleared, Victor pointedly looks at Yuuri’s incomplete assignment. Yuuri slidesback down to the floor with a put upon pout.

“Thisisn’t even graded,” Yuuri grumbles.

Ahand comes to rest on his head, fingers curl into hair. Yuuri looks up with aquestion on his tongue, but a mouth presses to his in answer before he canspeak.

“Mightnot be a graded assignment, but the test counts for a lot,” Victor says oncethey pull apart from the brief, far too brief, peck. “But a boyfriend can givehis boyfriend rewards for a job well done?”

Yuurifocuses more on the assignment than he’s focused on any class that he’s ever enjoyed.Victor’s smile as he finishes up doing his TA work may be incredibly cocky andsmug, but being able to wipe it away with kisses and some hair tugging while inVictor’s lap more makes up for it.

Yuuriis very comfortable in Victor’s arms, and the way Victor’s holding him feelslike Victor won’t be letting go any time soon. But when they break for air andjust rest against one another, Yuuri’s head on Victor’s shoulder and Victor’scheek against Yuuri’s head, Victor sighs. “It’s getting pretty late and youhave class in the morning.”

Yuuristills for a moment against Victor before releasing a sigh of his own. “I kindof wish I lived closer to school like you do. You’re what, a twenty minute walkand maybe ten by car?”

Victornods against Yuuri. “Yeah, about. Depending on traffic it can take almostthirty by car. The street one over from the coffee shop everyone goes to? Theabsolute worst during the lunch rush.”

“Ohyeah, that street is awful,” Yuuri says. “Still, you don’t even have to wake upas early to get to classes on time. I’m jealous.”

Victorlaughs and presses his mouth to Yuuri’s forehead. “But you live closer to theskate rink.”

Yuurican’t argue with that, but the conversation is not going where he hopes itwould. He doesn’t know how else to get Victor to suggest he stay over, since,clearly, it’d be easier for Yuuri to get to class in the morning.

“Ugh,”Victor groans. “C’mon I need to get you home before it really gets too late.Don’t you also have to see your advisor tomorrow?”

“Shit.”Yuuri had completely forgotten. So maybe this time wouldn’t have beenconvenient to stay over. “I forgot. And all the things I had to bring her areat home and—”

BeforeYuuri can spiral into full blown panic, he finds himself much higher off theground than the couch and Victor’s lap, legs swinging freely in the air, theonly point of stability being Victor’s arms, one under his knees and the otheraround his back.

“Victor!”The man only grins. “What? I’m getting you home.”

Eventhough it is the best idea for now and Yuuri had not planned things out well atall, Yuuri can’t help but wish that Victor was carrying him towards the bedroominstead of his coat and shoes.

4.

Yuuri’srelationship with alcohol is one that everyone around him enjoys while heremains oblivious to his actions until days, sometimes even months later. Hehas no memory of the first time he met Victor at one of Chris’ parties and madean absolute ass of himself when Victor sought him out at the ice rink not toolong after. It was only on one of their earlier dates before they officiallyfinally got together that Victor brought up the first time they met. Thepictures of that night are ones Yuuri still can’t look at, much to Phichit’ssadistic glee.

Andyet, Yuuri will still find himself a few too many drinks deep every once in awhile. Especially at one of Chris’ parties where it’s rare to have an intactmemory of the night.

“Ithink you’re done for now,” Victor says, taking Yuuri’s newly filled glassaway. Yuuri pouts, and while trying to reach for his drink, finds it too taxingand simply slumps onto Victor, arms draped over the Russian’s shoulder.

“M’fine,”Yuuri mumbles into Victor’s neck.

Victorwraps an arm around Yuuri’s waist, holding him up. Yuuri settles further intothe warmth of his boyfriend.

“I’msure you are right now, but you won’t be later.”

Yuuriwants to sulk, argue with Victor, but he also really likes being in Victor’sarms so he settles for lifting his face up briefly to give Victor furrowedbrows and jutting bottom lip before settling his head back in the cradle ofVictor’s neck and shoulder.

Victorleads them out of the kitchen – away from the drinks – to one of the couches inChris’ living room. Various people, all somehow associated to Chris, mingle anddance and drink around them. Phichit’s dancing with two of Chris’ coworkers, JJand Isabella are canoodling on an armchair made for one but can apparently fittwo, Sara’s sneaking off with Mila while Emil distracts Mickey, not that that’sany sort of hardship for the lovable Czech.

Yuurileans heavily into Victor, eyes drifting almost shut as he dozes. Yurio andOtabek join them at some point, before Victor’s teasing makes the other Russiansputter insults and storm away, face red. Otabek follows after, the tips of hisears and cheeks almost as red as his not-yet-boyfriend’s. Yuuri’s vaguelyconscious when Phichit swings by and lets Yuuri know that he’s leaving with thetwo guys he had been dancing with most of the night. He must have fallencompletely asleep at some point, for a few minutes at least, because Victor iswaking him up and getting to his feet.

“Yougood to go home?” Victor asks.

Ittakes a moment, groggy as he is, but Yuuri nods and manages to sort himself outwithout relying on Victor too much. Most of the partygoers have gone or are inthe process of leaving. Chris is wrapped up around Masumi who looks nothingshort of fond. Their cat has slunk her way to them now that the house isquieter, curled up on the armrest by Masumi’s arm.

Victorand Yuuri say their goodbyes and head out. Chris and Masumi live pretty much atthe heart of the city so there are plenty of cabs around. Victor hails onequickly and helps Yuuri in.

Yuuri’snapped and dozed and had some time to let all the liquor he’s had go throughhis system enough for him mind to fix on the fact that he and Victor live incompletely opposite directions and Victor’s apartment is closer.

ButVictor rattles off Yuuri’s address to the cab driver.

“You’recloser though,” Yuuri argues.

Victorhesitates, doesn’t look at Yuuri. “It’s fine. I want to make sure you get homesafe and it’s not that far from yours to mine. Besides, I have to do a thingfor the class I’m TAing in the morning so.”

Yuuriknows Victor’s fibbing. Not entirely, but he’s not being completely truthful. Yuurilooks away, down at his hands in his lap. “Oh. If you’re sure.”

Victorruffles Yuuri’s hair. “It’s really fine.”

Yuurigets dropped off in front of his apartment building with a brief peck and ‘seeyou later’.

5.

MaybeVictor just has a thing.  People havethings they’re weird about all the time. Yuuri knew someone who had a thingabout how they eat their food, eating the smallest items on their plate firstand moving their way up. Yuuri had a thing about having people he didn’t knowto a certain, abstract level being in his room when he lived in the dorms hisfirst year.

Butthen he sees Chris’ Instagram post of him and Victor in pajamas, in what Yuuriknows is Victor’s bedroom, Victor in the background holding pillows and extrablankets, captioned ‘sleepover!!’ with an arrangement of emojis, and doesn’tknow what to think.

“Doeshe not actually like me?”

Phichitwhacks Yuuri with the pillow Yuuri hasn’t been hugging to his chest, sulking.“That boy is completely gone for you, Yuuri, shut up. It’s probably justsomething else. Like, Chris wasn’t taking no for an answer or Victor doesn’tcare about Chris spending the night because Chris isn’t his adorable boyfriend.”

“But—”

“Justbe more aggressive the next time you’re over!”

Yuuripouts into his pillow. “I can’t do that.”

Phichitrolls his eyes, “Just get some drinks in you and I’m sure you’ll have noproblem with voicing your wants.”

Yuurifinally relinquishes his hold on his pillow to throw it at his best friend.Unfortunately, Phichit catches it out of the air easily and now has both thepillows. He drops the pillows and shuffles on Yuuri’s bed so they’re side byside, Phichit with an arm around Yuuri’s shoulders.

“Butreally. You won’t get what you want if you’re not vocal about it. Apparently,your Russian is oblivious to actions that, knowing you, are far fromsubtle—don’t hit me, you know it’s the truth—so just be upfront and tell himyou want to sleep over.” Phichit adds on with a wink, “Or not sleep.”

Yuurirolls his eyes and shoves Phichit. He has to get ready though for a doubledate.

Yuurishows up at the restaurant early, but he sees Victor is already there. Victorgreets him with a brief kiss that has Yuuri sighing and leaning in for more. They’vegot a few minutes until the time their reservation and knowing Chris andMasumi, more Chris, they probably had a little more.

Yuurican only think of how the universe is probably laughing at his expense that rightafter he had seen Chris’ Instagram post, Masumi and him wanted to grab dinnerwith Yuuri and Victor the next day. He doesn’t know how to bring it up withoutsounding stupidly jealous when there’s no reason to be. Instead they talk aboutschool and work as they wait for Masumi and Chris who show up with Chris allbut clinging to Masumi and Masumi looking fondly exasperated.

“Sorrywe’re late,” Masumi says, he doesn’t give an excuse, only looks to hisunashamed boyfriend.

“Youcan’t blame me when you get all dressed up,” Chris throws back, flirtatious asever. Yuuri feels his cheeks pink at the implication. Victor laughs and Masumijust shakes his head as they enter the restaurant and get seated.

Dinnergoes well. It’s not often that Yuuri hangs out with Masumi or Chris with theirbusy schedules, Masumi travelling often for his work and Chris busy with hisown. They talk about work and school and future plans, Masumi and Chrisplanning to take a few days off work to go travelling, visit their familiesalong the way. They promise to come by the ice rink some time too, both of themmiss having the freedom to skate and hang out with everyone.

It’swhen the bill has been paid and everyone’s ready to part ways that Chris bringsup how he thinks he left his scarf at Victor’s the other night.

“Ah,yeah, I found it have it hung up. I forgot to bring it with me but I can dropit off at yours sometime if you want.”

Chriswaves him off, “I can swing by and get it myself whenever you’re free, don’tworry about it. Thanks though, and see you too soon. I have a well-dressedboyfriend to…pester. And I’m sure you both do too.” Chris leaves them with asmirk and clings to Masumi as they head home. Masumi manages a wave but there’sno hint of resistance to Chris dragging him away.

Yuuridoesn’t know what to say, he more than hopes that Chris’ assumption andsuggestion would lead anywhere but his track record lends to the contrary.Victor clears his throat and offers his arm. “Sometimes you think you canhandle Chris, and then learn you were very incorrect. I’ll walk you to thestation?”

Yuuritakes Victor’s arm. “How was that sleepover, by the way?”

Victorlaughs. “Chris was very excited. We just watched TV and ordered in takeout. Ithink he’s been a bit stressed about something at work and didn’t want to putit on Masumi. I offered to let him stay the night since we’d been drinking andMasumi was in the middle of some high priority work Chris didn’t want tointerrupt.”

Andthere went Yuuri and Phichit’s theorizing that Chris had invited himself over.If only Victor was that blasé about asking Yuuri to spend the night.

Havinghad some wine with dinner, and envy filling his head, Yuuri comments, “SinceI’ve known you, I don’t think you’ve ever had people stay the night at yours.Sleepovers don’t seem like something you’d do.”

Victorshrugs, “Not often, no. But sometimes being alone in an apartment that is kindof a little big for just one person can get lonely. Date nights at mine areprobably my favorite kind of date nights because of that.”

Yuuriwants to strangle Victor. It would be so easy to ask why Victor has never evenseemed inclined to get Yuuri to stay the night, extend date nights into datemornings. But they’re at the station and Yuuri’s train is rolling up and whileit’s late, it’s too public a place to be potentially humiliated.

“Goodnight, Victor. See you soon?”

Victornods and bends to kiss Yuuri before he has to catch the train home alone.

+1.

Yuuri’snot avoiding Victor. At least not on purpose. Schoolwork has picked up and he’sbeen covering at the ice rink more often and he’s just too tired to do morethan go home and pass out in bed with take out and something playing on hislaptop. So he hasn’t seen Victor in a while for more than a brief hello aroundcampus or while he’s working at the rink that’s been busy with tourists andlocals taking advantage of deals and sales and whatnot because it was that timeof year.

Buthe runs into Victor on campus at the library, Victor at a desk with a pile ofbooks on one side of his laptop and a stack of essays and papers on the other.

“Yuuri!”Victor beams. Yuuri stops by and leans down for the kiss Victor pulls him into.

“Youlook busy,” Yuuri comments.

Victorpouts. “You too. I’ve missed you.”

Yuurifeels a flush of pleasure at the words. “I’ve missed you too. Just the time ofyear, you know?”

Victornods, “Trust me, I do. But doesn’t mean I can’t miss hanging out with you. Thisweek should be the last of it before finals season but are you free thisweekend? Just a night in with takeout and some TV?”

Yuuritakes a second but nods. He has a fair number of assignments all due the nextweek that he should work on this weekend, but he has missed Victor and, despitehis hopes, it’s not like he’ll be spending the night, as he’s learned.

Fridayrolls around Yuuri can tell he’s not the only one immensely grateful for theweekend. He finishes up his last class and heads straight to Victor’s, havingswitched shifts with Yuuko he doesn’t have work until Saturday afternoon.Victor lets him in almost immediately, pulling Yuuri inside and mouth on hisbefore the door even clicks shut.

“Hey,”Yuuri laughs once they part.

“Hello,”Victor grins, still holding Yuuri around his waist. “Ready for the weekend?”

Yuurifalls into Victor with a sigh. “You have no idea.”

Victorkeeps one arm around Yuuri and leads the way further into his apartment. “Well,I have Thai on the way and Netflix up and ready for our abuse.”

TheirThai food arrives halfway into the second episode of the TV show they startedto binge and Yuuri was quite invested. They eat as they continue watching halfof the season before Yuuri starts yawning and leaning heavily into Victor. It’snot even close to midnight but the week’s toll has weighed heavily on hisshoulders.

“Weshould get you home, I think,” Victor says quietly, hand brushing throughYuuri’s hair. Yuuri groans and presses his face into Victor’s shoulder.

“Homeis too far. Your bed is so much closer,” Yuuri mumbles without thinking. As thewords he carelessly said process in his sleepy, fuzzy mind, he’s suddenly muchmore awake.

Yuurilooks up and Victor is uncharacteristically flustered, stunned even. There’sreally no backtracking so why not continue to shove his foot deeper into hismouth?

“Whydo you not want me to sleep over, Victor? I feel like I’ve been pretty obviousbut…”

Victorrubs at the back of his neck, looks away. “Oh. I, uh, I thought you were just,being you, didn’t want to read too much into things in case that wasn’t whatyou meant.”

Yuuridoesn’t know if he should be offended by Victor’s implications of Yuuri beingthat aloof and unaware. There’s some truth to the unsubtle statement but still.

“Soyou’re not opposed,” is all Yuuri says in response.

WhenVictor looks at him again, there’s a heat in his gaze that’s fighting beingtempered.  “Well you see, Yuuri, if youspent the night, I, well, sleeping would be very difficult.”

“Victor.”

“AndI don’t want to pressure you into anything, because I don’t just want to, youknow, but also just cuddling in bed and platonically, well not entirelyplatonically, but romantically? Just sleeping together and seeing you firstthing in the morning.”

Arambling Victor is a rare sight, and any other time Yuuri would let Victorcontinue and see where he trailed off into, but Yuuri is tired and happy andhas been patient long enough.

“Victor,” Yuuri cuts Victoroff before he can continue. With a smile, he leans up and pecks Victor’s cheek.“Just letting you know, I’m staying the night.”

[secretariatbourgeoisophobe]

i got myself tagged by @ilyatath​ and @fmlforeverwrites​ and its taken me so long to do this bc im trash but hye ho here i am!!!

rules: answer these 85 statements and tag 20 people. yeah im not even gonna get close to 20 people and i have a feeling that some of you have already done this but oh well @asharadaynes​ @tooextremeforlouisiana​ @aaron-burrsir​ @kreacherwrites​ @kryptxns​ @opalcscent​ @beccabec876​ @mynameismelodypond​ and if any of y’all who ain’t tagged wanna do this then be my guest

the last

1. drink: strawberry and kiwi squash which honestly tastes a surprising amount like nondescript punch

2. phone call: i don’t make phone calls but i guess when my auntie called last week to check one of the boxes she was storing here??????

3. text message: last general message was to an rp partner this morning lmao bc i wanted to hurt her w ship inspo

4. song you listened to: lost boy by ruth b i think????

5. time you cried: months ago idk like it could legit be 2 or 18 months ago i have no idea

6. dated someone twice: u presume me to have dated someone once

7. kissed someone and regretted it: regret can be avoided if u never do the thing in the first place

8. been cheated on: u can’t get cheated on if u never dated in the first place

9. lost someone special: as long as ghosting on friends doesn’t count then this is a hard no

10. been depressed: yeaaaahhhhh the apathy’s still w me even outside of the severe episodes

11. gotten drunk and thrown up: surprisingly enough ive never actually reached this point before even beer olympics wasnt as dicey as id expected

3 favourite colours

12. dark reds (like burgundy, maroon or crimson)

13. black like my soul

14. idek black and red or my go to faves maybe dark purples/blues??????

in the last year have you

15. made new friends: yeah yeah yeah going to america kinda meant i had to lmao

16. fallen out of love: im gonna say no but this is a massive probably

17. laughed until you cried: i dont think so????? but idk maybe

18. found out someone was talking about you: nah i dont think so im too boring to be talked about

19. met someone who changed you: im gonna say yeah, im probs gonna say this a lot but going to america was hella good and it was p hard not to be changed by all the stuff over there

20. found out who your friends are: sorta yes sorta no idk let me be a cryptid in peace

21. kissed someone on your Facebook list: i. have. never. been. kissed.

general

22. how many of your Facebook friends do you know in real life: most of them i think idk i should probs clear some of those dicks out

23. do you have any pets: unfortunately no but i want a fucking cat when im older

24. do you want to change your name: not really nah. it’s basic but its mine and i kinda like it but if u use the wrong form of my name for our friendship level then i will feel uncomfy

25. what did you do for your last birthday: packed up all my shit then chilled w my friends and played mario kart

26. what time did you wake up: around 9 i think???? i dont do well w remembering shit

27. what were you doing at midnight last night: im p sure i was sorting out my inventory in da:i, idk i was deffo doing inquisition shit then

28. name something you can’t wait for: the last jedi to come out. gimme fucking force sensitive finn!!! make jedistormpilot canon u cowards!!!!!

29. when was the last time you saw your mom: an hour or so ago. she’s around and hovering and i just want her to go

31. what are you listening to right now:  the goldbergs is on in the background rn but im not actively paying attention

32. have you ever talked to a person named tom: i mean it felt like there were three dozen different toms back at school so yeah

33. something that is getting on your nerves: my parent’s constantly hanging around, the dread thought that my sister is coming home in around an week and i will get no peace

34. most visited website: this blue hellsite

35. hair colour: brown

36. long or short hair: it’s kinda long but it really doesn’t look like it lmao

37. do you have a crush on someone: not really?????? idk emotions are weird fucking things

38. what do you like about yourself: i mean i tend to refuse to back down on most things so i guess dedication is a way to make that sound positive??????

39. piercings: honestly i dont think i could ever get a piercing they weird me out for myself they say as they have a tattoo and are planning like half a dozen more

40. blood type: o+ which i guess is a pretty versatile type

41. nickname: no-one actually calls me this but my fave for me would just be d. the single letter by itself. and it absolutely has to be in lowercase people do also often call me dan and sometimes danny but none of them are at the right friend level and it is a Bad

42. relationship status: single as a pringle for 20 solitary years

43. zodiac: taurus. i was also born in the year of the ox so rip anyone who tries to argue w me

44. pronouns: they/them pls n thnx

45. favourite tv show: i watch like a million different shows and they are all trash but rn my fave is probs coach trip and i hate that most u have never seen it and dont know how much fun it is

46. tattoos: i got a geometric heart on my chest and im planning so many more pls message me about it so i can gush about it to someone

47. right or left handed: right like any good god-fearing person who is not influenced by the devil and witchcraft

48. surgery: ive never had surgery myself and i hope i never will (unless it’s for organ donation)

50. sport: i row, not well but to a vaguely competitive standard and i enjoy it even though my hands are llike permanently callused now

51. vacation: my last one was to boston for a week after the academic year ended but going to mexico over easter was gr9 too

52. pair of trainers: if we’re talking actual proper trainers then  ive only got one pair from decathlon but i do have some hella nice vans which i got for p cheap

GENERAL

53. eating: food is good. and not to be stereotypical but chicken is the best. esp rice and peas and chicken. also carbs. there is no such things as too much carbs. the media is lying to you

54. drinking: rum. it might be a bad thing that my first thought was to go to alcohol but idc im a mess

55. I’m about to: idk probs play some more inquisition

56. waiting for: my motivation to return from the war?????? to finish studying so i can move out of my parents’ house and steadily become the family’s queer cryptid

57. want: my parents to shut up and leave me alone. not gonna happen tho

58. get married: yes ofc i do im a fucking romantic mess bicth lemme indulge my fantasies

59. career: philosopher lmao. i get paid to sit around and bullshit all day what could be better

WHICH IS BETTER

60. hugs or kisses: ofc hugs are better lmao they’re just like !!!!! hug me all day idc

61. lips or eyes: eyes ofc, eyes are soft and pure. gimme those fucking eyes

62. shorter or taller: honestly i love me a good height difference either way but like ideally she’d be taller but im like 6′0 on a good day and i have to keep reminding myself that’s kinda tol so taller is unlikely rip me

63. older or younger: idgaf tbh but im amongst the youngest most of the places i go so younger would be nice i guess lmao

64. nice arms or nice stomach: umm idk both are nice and give good #aesthetics but i gotta agree w ilyatath and say goodlegs are the best plus good legs basically ensure a good ass

65. hookup or relationship: i told u im a fucking romantic gimme them sweet ass relationships. make me know that im special and important to u

66. troublemaker or hesitant: honestly hesitant but if my friends are causing trouble bet ur ass imma be there tagging along

HAVE YOU EVER:

67. kissed a stranger: im p sure y’all can guess the answer to this by now lmao

68. drank hard liquor: it’s not a real drink unless there’s liquor in it

69. lost glasses/contact lenses: one time i lost a pair of glasses the same day i got them

70. turned someone down: nah this has never happened to me

71. sex on the first date: ive never kissed someone, what else do u think i haven’t done.......

73. had your heart broken: yeah no this hasn’t happened. not properly anyway. like i said, feelings are weird

74. been arrested: it’s not a crime if u dont get caught

75. cried when someone died: nah ive never been close enough to anyone i knew who died

76. fallen for a friend: sorta yes sorta no im weird feelings are odd and my life is a mess

DO YOU BELIEVE IN:

77. yourself: i wanna say yes but kinda no my self confidence also needs to return from war

78. miracles: i wanna say i do but im not sure the universe is a fundamentaly chaotic system so i guess weird shit deffo could happen

79. love at first sight: i think some people can get it but i doubt for me and most people will probs have to work for it

80. santa claus: nah that man’s a scam

81. kiss on the first date: if u wanna kiss on the first date then fucking do it!!!!! dont let life hold u back!! dont let ur dreams be memes!!!!! u take their face anfd fucking kiss it!!!!

82. angels: eeehhhhhhhhh probs not

OTHER:

84. eye colour: brown. kinda darker brown than my hair but still brown

85. favourite movie: Captain America: The Winter Soldier (2014) directed by Joe Russo and Anthony Russo