#I would love to read about a very drunk Nat though

[nathaniel-underwood-is-an-intj]

I was just gonna put this in the tags but it got a little long so I hope you don't mind me adding this on here!

At first I thought Nat's relationship to alcohol was funny- it seemed strange a 12 year old wanting champagne at a party, most kids that age would probably think it tastes horrible.

And then Nat managing to get served at 14 years old in Prague was pretty funny, especially as the way he looked and dressed at that time so clearly screamed TEENAGER! But no one really cared lol

But when you look deeper it's really sad- the slight hints throughout the book that maybe he can't deal with stressful situations without it. I think alcohol is one of those addictions that really sneaks up on you. Young people really never think about the longer term danger of drinking often, and are more unaware of how badly it can damage your organs, or how fast alcohol poisoning can happen. It's also very easy to justify, because it's often used as a social stimulant which is the majority of the time we see Nat drinking it (at parties and at lunch with Bart). These are times no one would question him drinking, and the thought wouldn't occur to people around him that he was using it more of a crutch than a social lubricant.

It's quite easy to wonder- if he's drinking because he's stressed at a party, how much is he drinking when completing paperwork at night? Or when he has an important deadline or meeting the next morning? Habitual drinkers are very good at hiding being drunk, even to people who live with them; and Nathaniel lives alone, hasn't really got anyone looking out for him anyway, so who's to know how much he using it to cope with his unreasonable workload at 17 years old.

Also, I'm reminded of the part where he summons Bart with the spear in his hand and they argue badly over Bart being summoned by someone else. Bart notes Nathaniel being extremely stressed and disheveled- probably from running his hands through his hair (a nervous habit he canonicaly has) but I like the idea that perhaps he could have been drinking beforehand!

Deveraux had problems with over eating due to stress as well by the last book which I found quite interesting because food addiction isn't covered a lot in media. And Nat comes across as a parallel to him - he admired Devereux at 12 and earned respect for saving his life, and by the end they're both so stressed they're both struggling with unhealthy coping mechanisms.

I always thought Nat would start to smoke as well to deal with stress - perhaps Rosemary flavoured ones to annoy the spirits (Bartimaeus). Especially because drinking alcohol a lot starts to inhibit your thought processes, and I don't think Nat would want to risk that happening, whereas smoking wouldn't. For example, continuing to use alcohol to stop himself being anxious at overwhelming parties but smoking while doing paperwork because he could keep his head clear.

Nat definitely seems to have an addictive personality type going by his extreme workaholic nature and the boderline OCD he develops throughout the books, so I wouldn't think it's out of character for Nat to start having more serious problems with alcohol.

I'd love to read a fix it sort of fanfic where Bart and Kitty realise Nat needs some help managing stress in a healthier way. I think he would struggle a lot but maybe he could support Kitty with her anger management because I think that's something she probably needs help with too😅

I read some post about Nathaniel's relationship with alcohol and the way he uses it to cope with stress (u know like normal teenagers do) and I loved this thought of Nat becoming so dependent at some point that he actually had to physically restrain himself from drinking in order to be able to work and the only times he allowed himself to relax were Devereux's parties

The post on the topic is by @winter2468

[fromabasementonthehilll]

Can I request a Nat x Reader dating hc :)) Like how she would act in a relationship and stuff

Natalie Headcanons

‧͙⁺･༓☾ - Summary: Nat relationship headcanons

Pairing: Natalie Scatorccio x reader

Warnings: ...

∘₊✧────────────────────✧₊∘

⋆ She totallyyyyy makes mixtapes for you and then asks you if you liked them the next day. In general you two have a very similar music taste, it's one of the first things you bonded over, I can imagine you first talking to each other at your favourite bands concert.

⋆ Before you started dating, she could get a bit clingy and sometimes even jealous, when you would hang out with your friends or talk to someone other than her - even if you swore it wasn't anything more than that.

⋆ She was defo too shy to ask you out, she had always had her doubts about you liking her back and didn't want you to reject her, which made her super insecure, but eventually (drunk, at a Halloween party) she asked you out. Even when you guys started dating she felt insecure, that you stopped having feelings for her or liked somebody else, which you never did and constantly had to reassure her of that.

⋆ Natalie notices small things about you, from your leg jittering to the way your lips moved when you spoke. She reads your body language carefully - always noticing if you were upset. She caught glimpse of how your eyes would light up talking about certain things, the way you could talk about them for ages, and she loved watching you talk about your interests. That's how she would get ideas on how to surprise you, she'd gift you things she knew you would love, and you did.

⋆ She isn't really a PDA type of person, you would try hold hands in public but it just wasn't her thing, she prefers privacy, where you two are alone and she could have you all to herself, you wondered if it stemmed from her jealousy but never actually considered it.

⋆ In private you two could do whatever you wanted, and she liked that. She liked spending time with you doing whatever. You could kiss for hours, but when it came to something more than that she was taken aback at first, but eventually took control and felt comfortable doing it with you.

⋆ When you would argue with each other she could say some really mean shit, she never meant it, and you knew that, but it still hurt coming from her. Right after she would apologise and say sorry a million times. She hated arguing with you - it was the worst, it felt like her whole world was falling apart, she'd never purposefully do anything to hurt you and she desperately wanted to tell you that but it would come out the complete wrong way. One time during an argument she accidentally confessed that she loved you, it shocked you as she had never said that before, but after that you two argued a lot less.

⋆ Natalie admired you, the way your hair fell - the way it framed your face, your pretty eyes, your cheesy smile and the way you laughed at all of her jokes. She often found herself lost in you, even when you would talk to her about really important stuff; you'd have to ask "Hello? Are you still listening?" so many times, it didn't bother you much though, you'd do the same to her occasionally.

[vegaspam]

until next time / part one / bradley's letter

this is not a full fic! this is the text-post version of the letter photos from my fic over on my main blog @vivalas-vega that you can read here

Raven,

I found the stationary at a gift shop on the beach and I regret it now but we already have it. It doesn’t matter that I was right, Matthew is a prick and he’s lucky I’m in the middle of the ocean and not stateside right now. I can’t wait to read your article even if you think it’s boring, it’s really cool that I can pick up a magazine and say ‘hey, my best friend wrote that’ so at least you have that going for you.

You definitely don’t want to know what I’m doing right now, and even though I want to talk to you about it I can’t. Hangman is on this deployment with me, he’s not being as insufferable as usual which is suspicious but I’m not questioning it. I’d love nothing more than to be home and have you visit. We're long overdue for a boozy Star Wars marathon and I’ll do my best to make it happen as soon as I’m stateside.

There really isn’t anything your mom wants more than us together, I swear she does some weird witchy bullshit to try and manifest it into reality. I’m still convinced the reason I tried to kiss you last Christmas was because of something she did. Thank you for going to see mom and dad, and I hope their headstones weren’t overgrown. Not because either of them would care, but for the sake of that poor old groundskeeper. He’s old and I wasn’t there to keep you civil so I really hope you didn’t yell at him about it. I know your mom isn’t the most helpful when it comes to advice and I really wish mine was still around for you. I hope sitting with her at least helped a little since I can’t be there for you right now either.

I had to circle back to the Matthew thing because I was too mad to write about it at the beginning of this letter. He really is a douchebag and I’m so sorry you’re dealing with this. You didn’t listen to me because you have a big heart and you saw something in him, and that’s not a bad thing. You shouldn’t feel bad for giving him a chance. I am proud you didn’t give him the satisfaction of a response, but I hope you’re channeling this into your writing because I don’t want you to bottle it all up and explode. You know you can lean on Nat with this, call her and get drunk on facetime together or something.

This is now the dozenth time you’ve hinted at not being happy in New York anymore. You don’t have to stay there just because you feel like you have to stick it out. You should talk to your boss about working remotely for a while and go stay at my place. It’s empty and close to the beach, and you’ll be able to spend time with Nat and the rest of the squad – they’d love to have you. You’ve been with the magazine long enough and you work from home most days anyways so I don’t see why they’d say no to you working from San Diego – you’ve earned a working vacation. Maybe the change in scenery will help with your novel too.

The guest bedroom isn’t set up so just take my room, you know what’s mine is yours so help yourself to whatever you want. I’m not even going to tell you not to snoop because I know you will, so at the very least just put everything back where you found it and treat the place like it’s yours. I don’t want to find out you were acting like a hotel guest in my own house. Nat has my spare keys so coordinate with her.

I got the care package right after your letter and Hangman pilfered my snacks so I guess double up next time – thank you for the book. I skimmed the first chapter and it seems intriguing, but I’m a little disturbed you’re concerned about my ability to fantasize on deployment (but I’m not going to complain about free porn, even if I’ve gotta read for it).

Think about San Diego, I really think you should do it and I think you’ll love my place out there. It’s got a porch swing out back I can picture you writing on for hours and it’s literally a five minute walk to the prettiest beach – it’s private to the neighborhood I live in so it’s usually pretty deserted. I think it would do you a lot of good.

I’m flying safe, and I could be out of here sooner than anticipated so maybe you’ll be able to welcome me home.

Love, Bradley

[mothdruid]

Hi, babe 💌 You know what's been plaguing my mind for a while now?? rockstar AU tgm

Not necessarily rockstars, but like, what/how they would be as artists... ok hear me out KWJDKDKDK

I'm 100% sure rooster would be something like The Weeknd, bringing 80s tunes back and being super popular. He would know how to play a bunch of instruments and produce music, all thanks to his late rockstar father Goose, an absolute icon of the 80s that teached him everything he knows. (Goose would probably be part of a famous rock band with mav and ice hehe)

And hangman would be a country music star. There's no room for argument on this one lmao he'd have the most cocky annoying speeches on award shows and he'd constantly appear on those tacky gossip pages all over instagram/tiktok/twitter, showing up drunk to important events and allegedly hooking up with his fans but also being Texas' darling so he'd never flop or do any wrong on the eyes of his hardcore fans KSMSKSJDKS would definitely sneak the most foul double entendre spicy lyrics in his songs tbh...

I see bob as someone that would do music like Mac Demarco, Cults, TV Girl or Thee Sacred Souls. Something more romantic, calm and a bit of jazz influence maybe...? Songs you would listen to while reading a book or looking out a window while driving in the rain

I think payback would have some jazz influence too, like Nat King Cole or either something like New Order. Or even classic rock perhaps?? If not, I think he'd be a well-known producer like Jack Antonoff (taylor swift's producer) or Dr. Dre depending on his style

I can definitely see Phoenix as a rockstar girlie. Like Soho Dolls or Le Tigre typa beat. Or like Vic DeAngelis from Maneskin. OR OR she would sing the type of songs Mitski and Phoebe Bridges put out. She'd be so iconic plsss like when Hayley Kiyoko's fans call her lesbian jesus. Yes. Exactly.

Idk why but I think fanboy would probably be like a mixture of Steve Lacy and Kali Uchis. He'd slip spanish in his songs like kali and it would be a success I KNOW IT I feel in my bones. I bet he would serve LOOKS at the red carpet too and he'd be friends with so many artists

Coyote looks like he could pull off some mean R&B hits or even something like Tyler, The Creator. He'd have some incredible live performances and his fans would be so chill. He'd probably be the Mr. Worldwide of this generation and have a bunch of awesome collabs with a lot of artists, including his bff Jake hehe

And if they were a band??? I think bob would be a bassist and write their songs, rooster would be lead guitarist and vocalist, nat would sing too, javy would be the drummer and I haven't thought of other roles for the rest, I think I used all my brain juice on this one lmao

lmk your thoughts on this bc I can't stop thinking about it, it's such a cool concept 😩

ahhhh!!! i love love love this!! (i'm so sorry about getting to this so late)

i agree that Bradley's dad taught him everything he knows and also was famous in the 80s. i definitely know that he would make sadboy music, like the weeknd and joji. he would have some of the most beautiful music videos. i'm thinking of videos like Starboy by the weeknd and Tick Tock by joji.

and hangman? 100% correct. i think a lot of his music calls back to country music of the 90s though, a time he was nostalgic for and what influenced him to become an artist.

when i think of bob as an artist, rex orange county and mac demarco are definitely the first artists that come to mind. i think also someone like dayglow. but i also have thought that maybe he would be like marc rebilet. i could also see him as someone like tame impala.

i agree with payback being more of a producer who has made some music. i think it'd be music similar to what kendrick lamar has made. extremely impactful music. maybe something like denzel curry too. i just think his music would be very impactful. (ps. i love jack antonoff and have met him)

SZA is who comes to mind when i think of what artist natasha would be. so similar to the mitsuki and phoebe vibe. but the song Kill Bill by SZA screams nat to me. but also Silk Chiffon by MUNA also gives me nat vibes. (the versatility of woman)

i also 100% agree with your mickey analysis. i could also see him doing rap though. rich brian is who comes to mind if mickey rapped.

javy? i think javy would be closer to drake than tyler, sonically. maybe like pharrell (but his rap stuff)?? but if we are thinking out there bands, the flatbush zombies would be up that alley too. but i think that drake or maybe travis scott are the artists i think javy would be like.

[scentedchildnacho]

The white people were still on plantations after being ordered to leave so this states he wasn't all that ambitious of a general a twelve hour idea

Area 51 white people look like extra terrestrials to or brit box

Its been my reading that it is the satanism of white life that bothers darker people.....so there were these community hells or d.h. Lawrence sons and lovers and most of the white people leave these plantations for industrial agreements to metropolisize but there are still white people at these plantations

Doctor Turner and his dissections for the soul

The violent ideation I saw expressed at youthful white job ladies from black men and that just means skin color I don't know the actual identifications of parties involved

He felt very threatened by her troop like adherence to non smoking and compared her allegation of more then tobacco smoked on that property to giving him throat cancer in jail and responded to her that if she approached him like a tough love army he doesn't sympathize with gender concerns and feels people who cause cancer should be stabbed in the throat as they intend on others

I find that more ira like just very shocking and without conscience

I went out in tomah Wisconsin to a plantation that was a military base and they train young women in combat out there

So I think to him he can't distinguish anymore between civilian and military

I don't like the new young white women in jobs I think they do need to be told a Naz is right about how they behave

I do like Jewish women much better though about confronting people who presume too much innocence with more choice reflection I think threatening to stab her isn't completely evident retributive logic

Are you smoking more then tobacco here doesn't explicitly state tough love cancer operations

They act like white separatism won't discipline her about things and that was already adjudicated he didn't need to do that

Black men do work jobs do not so pre possessing a military base like tomah that could for service transform their income status to providential apparently to them is not a womans place.....the skit between the above examples was meant to show his size and capability

Incarceration instead of duty

Adjudicated it's other chicks that largely stand to be most bullied by not science education and not understanding that growth hormone has created women that do rape

Jobs tend to threaten blind obedience to rank authority and people feel obligated to keep opening institutions prosecuted for rapeing beneath rank that's why adjudicate

Well it's white so ad hoc intense compulsory peace arbitration tends to replace trials if it was formally prosecuted as race based sex harassment people would have to take money for the pornographic film intended and that can feel like consent and it's stuff no one wants

Adjudication she acted like a drunk so she probably will keep being told to pay a dealer so that threatened minorities by white dominance in jobs do not suffer too much

Running up to confront someone one doesn't know is an alcohol induced liquid courage...

This makes it sound like they were terrorists and then this larger force did things in retaliation too like Nat Turner....for instance there are these jails and the inmates appear too alien to help left over in jails that the sewage isn't working anymore and they start just killing the slaves

Sort of like Nazi Germany concentration camps where allied forces did like take the concentrated with them

Unclos it's that there are these productions from China that could greatly improve how I respond to expectations for rank routine and they will not ship them to me

There are completely unrelated arbitrations that could have happened instead of killing them or caring they were there

[joyjoyjoy]

hi again

tumblr is lowkey dying, and it has been for a long time, so I don't feel any remorse for making it my online diary. I was thinking of starting a substack, but I want to write actual half-academic essays for it instead of whatever the fuck I write on my diary (analog) or on here. I realized there is a lot of pent-up emotional writing I have kept inside; I might need to get it out of the way before I go onto the big leagues.

Jack is still heavy on my mind. Heavy. I don't know how to shake him off. It's been more than a year since I last saw him and a solid seven months since I last spoke to him. He still dawns on my psyche every now and then. Maybe it's because I'm in Europe and last time I was in this continent I was grieving our relationship heavily. Since he haunted me again with the emails, and proceeded to ghost me (WHO GHOSTS SOMEONE THROUGH EMAIL YOU HAVE TO BE SOME SORT OF UNAWARE SON OF EVIL ?!!), I never really got closure. Writing about the subject will have to keep me afloat from that. I don't know. I'm trying my best. I deleted his number so I cannot ever text him or drunk call him again, but I do still have his substack and his email. If he didn't change it that's it. I got a feeling to go look for his writing and so I saw that he had 3 new entries and they're all pretty mediocre and not in the way that you would usually use mediocre but in the way that Jack would be. He would have a high level of intellectualism but then use it in the laziest way imaginable, translating into a half-assed train of thought neuron to keyboard ineligible 275 words. Disappointing. Whatever. Nat is right, he is not all that! He has a podcast and vapes for fucks sakes! Think!

Anyhow, I was reading his best friend's substack (Cole) and he was saying how-- let me just copy and paste the excerpt. He goes:

"I’d really love to become a famous New York alt-lit author. Move to the big city, go on Red Scare, meet Nick Mullen; but my crippling nicotine addiction is standing in my way. A few days ago I quit vaping, and now I find myself thinking about it every second of every day. I don’t know how I’m supposed to become a famous New York alt-lit author if all I can think about is nicotine instead of writing short fiction about what a very interesting life I live."

This is how I feel about men and it infuriates me how blatant and bland their obstacles can be! I wish my only obstacle would be a stupid little vape! JUST BUY A GODDAMN PATCH AND MAN UP! idk get arrested or go to the army or something! I, on the other hand, have the generational trauma of latina women and the weight of chauvinist society on my shoulders. Plus my daddy not being present is not helping my case whatsoever. The thing is, unlike Cole, I've already quit this whole men-shablam and guess what? they still come back. With more fury and rage than before. You thought the last one treated you bad? just you wait darling! and I'm just supposed to take it because the alternative is to not have sex with any of them and then be haunted by the ghost of previous men who have treated me like shit aka what is going on right now! They won't leave my goddamn brain and I do admit it at least gets me to write, but if all I write and all I have to say is my laments for the male species... then do I have to say anything at all?

I consider myself to be someone quite eloquent, quite intellectual, well-read, and self-actualized. In moments like these though, it is hard to believe such things. I don't know how I'm supposed to become the person I have to be if I'm being held up by men who would hang up on me and don't think I'm even worthy of a reply. He doesn't think I am even worthy of a reply and this is how I repay myself. Instead of being kind and letting go, I transfix and still read his pedestrian personal essays a year later.

Be someone you are proud of. Be someone you respect. You have other men who love you in your life, don't pay mental energy to the ones who don't.

[eviesaurusrex]

“ɪ ᴡɪʟʟ ᴀʟᴡᴀʏꜱ ᴘɪᴄᴋ ʏᴏᴜ ᴜᴘ.” | ʙ. ʙᴀʀɴᴇꜱ

Bucky Barnes x Barton!Reader (Phoenix)

summary: Usually, Bucky would pick her up wherever she is, but today, with a night out with some of her fellow Avengers (and her brother), it wasn’t possible that her secret boyfriend could come and pick her up, would it?

word count: 2.3k

warnings: fluff, mention of alcohol, slightly drunk reader, more fluff, some curse words, Clint as the best brother in the world, we're ignoring Infinity War and Endgame for this one bye

author’s note: I need more Bucky writings in my life, so here is one.

;

“So, [Y/N],” Natasha started while stirring her drink with the colorful straw accompanying the alcoholic beverage. The addressed looked up, almost unsure if she really wanted to know what the redhead tried to get out of her. “What’s the tea with that secret boyfriend of yours?” The woman choked on the portion of the very unnatural blue and purple drink she nursed for not that long, and Wanda next to her softly patted her upper back to get the drops of alcohol out of her friend's airways while she coughed violently.

“I… I don’t know what you’re talking about, Nat,” [Y/N] answered after a few seconds to catch her breath again. The redhead smiled knowingly and nodded slowly. “Of course not, sweets.” Wanda next to her, chuckled behind her glass of something resembling a Raspberry Martini, but [Y/N] wasn’t sure if that was her drink of choice during this round or the last one… or the one before. “Remember, I can read minds,” the witch chuckled further, and the younger Barton looked at her other friend with wide eyes; her pupils were blown wide due to the alcohol and the rush of fear pulsing through her veins now.

But Wanda took one of her hands and gave it a gentle squeeze. “Don’t worry. I won’t tell anyone, [Y/N/N]. I promise.” And [Y/N] knew her promise was more solid than a brick wall. That’s why she mumbled a Thanks, Wanda, before taking another sip through that obnoxious straw the bartender had chosen for the Avenger.

“What happened in your life the last few weeks, GI Joe? Need to keep me updated with all the back-to-back missions I had.” Clint had chosen the perfect moment to speak up from the other end of the table the group - consisting of Wanda, Nat, Clint, Scott, and herself - occupied ever since entering their preferred bar for such night outs of the compound. Few people would dare to talk to them to get a photo or autograph, the prices were reasonable, and the bartender tended to give them a free round somewhere along the night.

Rolling her eyes at that horrible nickname she had gained after enlisting for the US Army before transferring to the Navy, she showed Clint the finger. “I love you, Katniss, but suck my nonexisting dick.” The older Barton grinned like the proud big brother he was while Scott clapped his hands together and pointed in her direction. “Katniss Everdeen! That’s a great nickname, even better than Legolas. I will save that for later.”

After that, the group started to talk again instead of the pairs or small groups that had formed in the past 45 minutes, and [Y/N] finally had some alone time to take her phone out. The popping-up messages made her smile like a damn teenager, but she couldn’t control her facial expressions under the influence of alcohol, and she didn’t mind that. Her brain was too far gone for her own good.

I hope you’re having a great night, doll.

The nickname, even though he didn’t stand in front of her and said it out loud, made her heart race and her stomach flutter.

I have but I wish you could pick me up as always.

She didn’t need to wait long for another message.

I can come if you want.

An almost sad smile etched itself on her lips while typing another text.

Nah, it’s okay. I

I need more time

More like she evaded the inevitable conversation with her overprotective brother, who never could wrap his mind around the fact that his little sister was all grown up by now. She saved the world, for fucks sake, she was grown-up than others her age! But the stubborn moron on the other side of the table was too deep in his mind to see it - even though it was clear as day for everyone around him to see.

But the one Avenger who never missed was too blind to see what was right in front of him. Well, at least she thought he was.

He will come around. Maybe. Maybe not. Maybe he’ll try to strangle me. First Bucky, then me. This will end in a disaster. Her thoughts tried to spiral into the abyss of anxiety and bottomless fear.

The only thing that pulled her out of this vicious circle was the vibration of her phone, and [Y/N] took another look at it. The new text instantly soothed her overworking mind, which had difficulties coming to terms with the situation it found itself in. In her defense, [Y/N] never had intended to fall in love with the brooding brunette with the troubled past, but after melting his exterior consisting of ice walls and mean stares, she had found a lost soul within a strange century who just wanted to feel at home. And she was more than willing to show Bucky all the love, happiness, and genuine companionship she had to offer (which was a lot).

I love you.

Bucky seemingly always knew when her mind had trouble keeping itself in check - one of the many things she loved about her super soldier.

From across the table, Clint watched his sister with a gentle expression in his eyes and knew that she was taken care of even if he wasn’t there himself and even though he was fully aware that she could handle herself pretty good. Nonetheless, it was his mission to make sure she was alright. Mainly because he would never be allowed in the comfort of his bed, his wife next to him, again if something would happen to the younger Barton - Laura had made sure that he understood that clearly.

;

Giggling, [Y/N] hung between Clint and Scott while the trio walked out of the bar, Wanda and Nat close behind. “‘s not true! ‘m fully sober.” And with that, another fit of giggles erupted from the sunshine of the Avengers. The group grinned, even though the alcohol most definitely affected everyone, but the young Barton never had a high alcohol tolerance, to begin with. “Sure thing, munchkin,” her brother laughed as he pushed the last door open and released them into the warm summer night.

[Y/N] started to hit his shoulder but failed to maneuver her hand in the right direction. “I can walk a straight line if I have to! Mhm! Y’know why?” Scott patted her head as she tried to find the words. “You can definitely walk a straight line, Phoenix,” Ant-Man assured her, but she wanted to try it, so she pushed both men off her and steadied herself with outstretched hands. “‘m good! Alrighty! Conquering the world!” Taking several steps, she obviously didn’t walk straight and swayed in the direction of a street lamp on which she clung herself with both arms wrapped around the cool metal.

“‘m not drunk! Jus’ need a break of conquering.” [Y/N] really wanted to believe it herself, although her brain couldn’t comprehend her surroundings clearly anymore. And clinging to a street lamp post seemed like the best idea she had this entire evening. “You’re not drunk. We get it,” a new voice spoke up, and blinking, she raised her head off the chill metal post and looked in the vague direction the voice came from.

Bucky was standing next to his bike, her personal helmet already laying on the seat, a smirk displayed on his devilishly handsome face. A grin started to grow on her own face, and without thinking or considering her current state, the fearless (and sometimes reckless) Phoenix let go of the street lamp and started to run. Well, she attempted to run. In reality, it was more like a stumbling walk of shame she hopefully would never gain any memories about.

“Buckyyyyyyyy,” she greeted her secret boyfriend while jumping - falling - into his arms and wrapping her legs around his slender waist. His strong arms provided stability and security, with one of his arms under her bum and the other softly but tightly snaked around her waist to hold her as close as possible. [Y/N] peppered loving kisses all over his face and giggled at the feeling of his dark stubbles tickling her soft cheeks and lips. The super soldier closed his eyes for just a moment to relish in the feeling the woman in his arms always let him feel. The warmth spread from his heart to every single bone and muscle, and instantly, Bucky felt at home and at ease.

Gently, the brunette pressed his lips against her cheek and nuzzled his face against hers. “Hey, doll,” the man mumbled, the soft lips of his girlfriend already on his.

A cleared throat behind [Y/N]’s back reminded the woman of the small group she was with, and awkwardly, she climbed off Bucky but steadied herself on his arm. Focusing her eyes on everyone standing there, Phoenix felt the blood rushing into her cheeks and face, and she awkwardly cleared her throat as well. “So… Shit.”

Bucky tucked his best girl into his side, flesh arm around her slender shoulders and metal hand casually pushed into the pocket of the leather jacket he exclusively wore when riding his bike. Not because he needed the protection but because [Y/N] had let slipped how hot it made him look - even hotter than usual. And he loved how she looked at him when stopping in front of her to pick her up.

Nat looked very pleased, Wanda showed a soft smile, Scott was just confused as hell, and Clint… well. “Why aren’t y’surprised?!” His younger sister almost shouted, and the older Barton shrugged nonchalantly after throwing the bag strap over his shoulder. “Because I knew since that one mission in Manila,” he answered and taking out his phone to call an Uber for everyone. Blinking rapidly, [Y/N] did the math in her brain, and suddenly, her mouth was agape. “Tha’ mission was three months ago!”

Clint smirked while Bucky pressed a kiss on top of her head. “He was the one who texted me,” the soldier told his girlfriend, and now, everything seemed upside down. Looking from one man to the other, [Y/N] threw her hands up in the air. “Y’gonna kill me someday. Both of ya’!” With an exasperated sigh, the woman pressed her forehead against Bucky’s strong chest.

“Whatever.” Clint put his phone back into his jeans pocket. “Just promise me you’ll be safe and use protection and all that shit because I’m way too young to be the fun uncle. Have all my hands full with my own lot, don’t need another little one running around.” Showing him the finger again, [Y/N] turned to Bucky, pulled him down, and kissed him for everyone to see.

His arms instantly wrapped themselves around her waist, one hand softly resting on her lower back. He kissed her with all he had because she didn’t deserve less. Not with all the love and genuine devotion and adoration she treated and showed him constantly, even through the tiniest of gestures.

“Told you they are a thing,” Nat’s very pleased voice traveled over the busy New York street and sidewalk. Scott hummed and scratched his head. “Explains the overprotectiveness of Brooding Boy during missions. Everything makes sense now! Wow. Can’t wait for the mini soldiers running around. Imagine how cute they would be!” Grinning, he climbed into the already waiting Uber while Nat and Wanda laughed at the expression on Clint’s face. “Mini-what?! Nope, no, nothing of that sort will happen any time soon, Scott! Stop talking about it - that’s my baby sister!”

[Y/N] grinned as the small group minus her settled into the car - the Uber driver probably will have a heart attack or will hyperventilate after a look on his backseat - and let Bucky escort her to his trusty bike.

“He texted ya?” She asked softly while the Barnes took her helmet and gently put it on her head. He closed the clasp under her chin after nudging it up with his finger and pressed a kiss onto the corner of her mouth before straightening his posture again. “He did. Told me you looked a bit crushed towards the end, and you know how things work.” With an arm around her waist, Bucky pulled her close for another time and nuzzled his nose against hers. “I will always pick you up, doll, because it makes you happy, and it makes me feel a bit better. Less time for me to worry about’ya.”

Grinning up to him with that blissful grin due to the alcohol and all the endorphins rushing through her system, [Y/N] couldn’t comprehend her luck in life. “Y’are the best that could ever happen to lil ol’ me, James Barnes,” she whispered lovingly and kissed his knuckles, both flesh, and metal. Bucky grinned down at the woman he had sworn to love and protect whatever it might cost and couldn’t believe his luck. Ever since joining the Avengers and meeting this woman, his life had taken a turn for the better part.

“I have to say that, doll, so keep your pretty mouth shut and let me help you up there.” One last kiss to her nose tip, and Bucky grabbed her by the waist and lifted her onto the second seat on his bike as if she weighed nothing. Her drunk but happy giggle was the most adorable thing he had ever heard in his long life, and he couldn’t get enough of it.

Getting onto the bike with her already behind him was an easy task by now. Immediately, the super soldier felt two arms wrapping themselves around his waist and a chest tightly pressed against his back. [Y/N]’s legs were securely tucked behind his own, and no piece of paper would fit between these two.

Throwing her a look over his shoulder, Bucky brushed his metal thumb over her knuckles. “Ready, little koala?” She nodded and put her chin on top of his right shoulder. “Always.”

And with that, the bike with the two Avengers awoke to life and sped over the nightly New Yorker streets.

;

Thanks for reading, wonderful human! Comments, reblogs, and likes are, as always, much appreciated <3

If you have some ideas for more Bucky stuff, please send some asks in, and I will take a look into it!

[happypopcornprincess]

Mickey Garcia Holiday One Shot Sneak Peek

Christmas ain't the same without you

Pairings - Mickey Garcia x Fem!Reader

Premise – Holidays without your lover aren't the same, you miss him with all your heart and he does too.

Word Count - No idea,

Warnings: Some strong language, references to Pop Culture, allusions to SMUT and a very brutal game of UNO

a/n - Thank you @labarboteuse for this wonderful request. I initially planned it s a headcanon but the holiday season was approaching so I made this into a holiday fic. I hope you like it <3 any and all headcanons/blurbs are mostly welcome.

December 25, Christmas Eve

“...and then Phoenix lost her shit and then we had to group up and shield Harvard from getting waterboarded by her.” Mickey’s face on your phone was scrunched up in delight, as he laughed recounting the tales of Christmas at the base to you.

You touched your screen as if it were his face.

Mickey was your best friend, your husband, and the love of your life.

Staying away from him while he was deployed was difficult, and you handled it like a champ. Occasionally, though, sadness would loom over you unexpectedly. Like waking up and reaching out for him, and meeting the empty side of the bed. Accidentally making two cups of coffee in the morning. One day, when you realized he was not there when you called him, you broke down in tears.

But nothing hurts like not having him home during the holidays for the first time.

When Abuela Juliana bribed you with her homemade caramel cupcakes, you couldn't say no to Mickey's family; his parents, his brother Edgar and his wife Veronica, and their four-year-old twins Camillo and Ariana.

As a single kid, you were sent to boarding school away from home. You hardly knew your parents, and they were always on some crazy trip to Europe every year during Christmas. Celebrating the holidays with his family made you feel at home. Abuela would never let go of a chance to remind you that it was your home too, and you and Veronica were her granddaughters.

You had been reading in Mickey's old room, halfway through an Agatha Christie novel from his bookshelf before he called. It was cozy, with a makeshift space near the window to read, and a lot of Star Wars and hip-hop posters everywhere on the walls.

“How was Christmas?” he asks you, smiling at the camera.

“It was perfect. Abuela kept her promise, making a batch of caramel cupcakes just for me. Camillo and Ariana almost caught Edgar placing the gifts under the tree, but Veronica and I distracted them with Spongebob Squarepants.”

“Clever.”

“Marina and Carlos banned me from the kitchen because I tried to help them, and then fed me your share too.” you sighed.

“God I hope you didn’t eat all the cupcakes, share it with Edgar and Ariana too.” he shrugged.

"No way. Nu-uh" you nodded and snuggled under the covers.

Mickey listened to you with a sad smile on his face, and it hurt you to see that he so clearly missed home.

“I’m sorry I couldn’t be home Carino," he says in a dejected tone.

You just wish you could squish his face with your hands and smother him in kisses. He was sad, and you hated seeing him like that.

“I miss you, baby," you say.

He smiled, “I miss you more.” he said as he lay down on his bed. “I really wanted you to be my kiss at midnight.”

“Me too.” you sniffle, tears brimming your eyes as you recall last year when he was home with you, and held you close as you counted down to midnight.

“Baby…” he whispered, noticing your tears, “don’t cry, please.” His eyebrows furrowed with worry, but just as he was about to say further, his image shook around.

It was Phoenix on the screen now, smiling with a Santa cap on.

“Mrs. Garciaaa! Happy Christmas my girl!” she hollered. You wiped your tears and realized she was drunk.

“Happy Christmas Nat.” you smiled, as she passed the phone to Payback.

“I’m sorry Y/N, she’s been drinking like a sailor once we stopped her from waterboarding Harvard.” he sighed, the camera shaking as he walked because he was clearly swatting away Phoenix with his other hand. 

Rooster, Bob, Coyote, Harvard, Yale, and even Hangman joined in to wish you. By the time they handed the phone back to Mickey, you were laughing again.

“There's my girl,” he whispers softly to you, his brown eyes adoringly looking at you.

"Good night, sweetie." you breathe out and kiss the screen.

He blushes and kisses his screen, “good night baby, can’t wait to meet you.”

/-/-/-/-/-/-/-/

Find the Full fic here!

Requests are open! Feel free to request anything.

@tuiccim @parkjammys @akinrawsx @asteph22 @iamthebeth @thefandomqueenbb @onlyhereforthefics @yikesdameron @savedfanfics1992 @amigaytho @samwilson-mylove @jenniweaslee @anna-phora @fluffyprettykitty

[peppermintsparker]

love is a victim of the cruelness of time [b.barnes]

summary -- in which bucky barnes is the right person at the wrong time. warnings -- angst, little bit of explicit language, mostly fluff, mentions grief and the passing of people (not specified though), alcohol and drunkenness. first kiss is implied to happen but not when r is drunk cos consent is sexy my friends. authors note -- missed writing for bucky so i kind of dug deep into my soul to write a right person at the wrong time but with a twist. this fic has zero dialogue and was very challenging to write but i hope you enjoy it <3

Growing up, love and happily ever afters had only ever existed in fairytales. You had never believed in the cliches of love at first sight, or the right person at the wrong time, or even the wrong person at the right time. Whilst your friends would spend recess talking about love or having playground weddings, you were often found in the library with your nose in a book. 

Love was better kept in storybooks, where the princess always found her prince, and they lived happily ever after. Love was not meant for real life.

And then, you met Bucky Barnes.

You’d been a struggling writer when you had first met the Avengers; doing freelance work when you’d picked up a gig to write a piece on the superheroes for some shitty online girls magazine. Steve and Sam had been the most approachable on the team, Natasha had seemed intimidating, but was an absolute sweetheart, whereas Wanda was a delight. Tony Stark had been downright irritating, a pigheaded egotistical idiot you’d called him (by accident, although you hadn’t been having the best day) but he had found your honesty refreshing. Clint and Peter had both been fun, cracking jokes and making you laugh. Bucky Barnes, however, had been life changing.

Not long after the piece had been published, Tony had pulled some strings with Pepper and had got you working for the team as their official spokesperson. The pay was astronomical in comparison to the freelance work, and you had the time to write things you actually enjoyed. For the first time in the years since graduating University, you had the chance to live; you had the chance to fall in love. And fall in love, you did.

It started as a slow trickle: flowers, restaurants, Bucky checking up on you, taking the time to learn your quirks, likes and dislikes. The trickle soon turned into a deluge, and before too long Bucky had been all you thought about. Every waking minute not spent writing, you were with Bucky. Vacations, day trips, movie nights. You’d shown him early writing pieces, ones from when you were still learning and refining and improving; the very depths of your vulnerabilities had been exposed to him. And oh, how he loved you ten times more.

Neither one of you enjoyed dinners in fancy restaurants, so he took you to diners and you took him to cafes. You’d make dates out of farmers markets, or otherwise simple errands that you could have done alone. To be loved so wholeheartedly was like a breath of fresh air, the spring sunshine after a cold winter. Nobody had made you feel quite so loved as Bucky did, you supposed that’s why losing him was harder.

Falling out of love started like a slow trickle: declined calls, cancelled dates, Bucky spending more time alone than he did with you. The trickle soon turned into a deluge, and before too long, every waking minute not spent writing was often spent alone, or with Nat or Wanda. You’d even spend time with Tony and Bruce in the lab, just to keep yourself distracted. You stopped showing him what you’d written, instead he often had to read about it online or in a magazine or newspaper.

Ending the relationship when you first realised would have been the kinder thing, you knew that, but you were also selfish and did not want to lose the one person who had made you feel so whole. Friday had remained impartial, so you had often found yourself having secret conversations with the A.I; Friday having promised complete confidentiality. But, she had given the same advice you’d been trying to avoid — the kindest thing is leaving him, letting Bucky go.

So, you let Bucky Barnes go.

At first, you worried that the team would turn their backs on you and you’d be left without a job and without an apartment, but Pepper had reassured you that whilst you were primarily the Avengers spokesperson, your contract itself was actually with Stark Industries and with Pepper Potts as CEO, your job was safe. The team’s loyalty to you had remained steadfast, you supposed it was because they realised the break-up was a mutual decision and time was the only guilty party.

Of course, just because it had been on good terms, it didn’t mean that it was any easier. You still had a room at the compound, still could roam the building as you pleased and take advantage of the wide range of facilities on offer. You still held conversations with Bucky, still continued the sacred Wednesday movie night; hell, Bucky still had exclusive access to some of your writing from time to time.

Soon enough, time started flying by and 3 years had eventually passed since the two of you had made the decision to split up. In those 3 years, you’d lost a lot of great friends but it had only pushed you and Bucky closer together; now best friends, and room-mates, closely entwined by the grief that you had supported each other through.

Not only did the two of you support each other through your individual grieving processes, you’d also started supporting each other through the treacherous waters of dating. You’d pick Bucky up from a bad date, he’d extend the courtesy to you; it had worked, too, because neither one of you judged each other even if the date itself had shown a billion red flags. It was nice to have a friend, you thought.

There was just one massive, world-ending, life destroying problem stemming from being so close to Bucky Barnes: you were hopelessly, madly, deeply in love with him.

Shit, you realised, you were screwed. And, the Universe was playing an incredibly sick joke on you.

Not wanting to ruin the life you’d built up with Bucky, you closed the romantic part of yourself away. Not completely, not enough for the annoyingly perceptive soldier to suspect anything, but you found yourself going on more and more dates, even attempting to start a relationship with someone new. That had lasted all of 3 months when they eventually realised that you weren’t in love with them, that your heart belonged to someone else. So, you’d called it quits and they suggested that you grab hold of whoever it was, and don’t let them go.

So, you did. And, it went like this:

You had deleted all your dating apps, pretended that your short relationship with someone new had sworn you off dating for a while. You wanted to focus on yourself. If it was actually because you wanted to build up the courage to confess to your former ex-boyfriend, current roommate and best friend that you were in love with him, you’d keep that part to yourself.

Until the Universe had decided to play another sick joke on you when you’d gotten disgustingly drunk at brunch with some old friends, leaving Bucky to pick you up even though you had lied and said you were fine to Uber home. As the man drove you both home, your attention flitted from the water bottle he’d thrust into your hands, to the soft smile he always seemed to wear around you.

Back in the safety of your small apartment, dressed in your goofiest pj’s and in the comfort of your bed, you confessed your feelings to Bucky. Not missing out on any detail, no matter how big or small, you must have talked until your throat was hoarse and you’d tired yourself out, falling asleep in the middle of a sentence.

Bucky didn’t think you’d remember any of it in the morning. But when you told him again over a plate of eggs and bacon, he realised that this life was all he had ever wanted.

Because, he’d totally fallen in love with his former ex-girlfriend, current best friend, roommate and the girl he loved to kiss.

[captains-simp]

hi! can you write a yelena x fem!reader based on best friend’s brother by victorious where reader is nat’s best friend but falls for yelena?

I love the best friend's sibling trope🤧 Yes, I used Google translate for some parts. Yes, I am sorry in advance

7k words

Warnings: brief injury description and R getting tipsy (and having less of a filter than usual 👀)

[ masterlist ]

Buy me a coffee ☕

~ ~ ~ ~ ~

"Nat you're not going to believe what I just saw! It has single handedly made my week- whoa!" You exclaimed as you threw your hands up and backed against the nearest wall.

"Who are you?" Demanded the blonde from the other end of her gun. You glanced frantically between her hand gun and her stone cold grey eyes, not knowing which you should be more afraid of.

"Y/n." You answered shakily, your mouth and throat suddenly feeling like sandpaper.

"Yelena!" Natasha shouted as she came into the living room. "Put your gun down you сумасшедшая сука (crazy bitch)!" Yelena hesitated as she gave you the once over and slowly lowered her weapon. You didn't fail to notice how she kept it in her hands until Natasha snatched it away.

"Hey!" She argued and tried to grab it back.

"You get gun privileges back when you stop pointing them at my friends." Natasha said as she put it in the safe under the kitchen counter.

"She didn't knock!" Yelena defended with a thick accent.

You were still stood awkwardly against the wall as you watched the interaction. You had no idea who the blonde was much less why she had acted like a paranoid guard dog. Not that you were offended, being friends with someone who had a lot of protective friends and coworkers meant this had happened more than you wanted to admit. JARVIS actually had some very over the top weapons pointed at you twice.

"I don't knock when I go to her place." Natasha pointed out. You smiled nervously at the blonde when she looked over at you again.

"Well as your new roommate it seems like something I should know."

New roommate? Natasha hated the idea of a roommate and had always been very vocal about it. It was why she insisted on having her own apartment rather than living in at the Avengers compound.

You glanced around and couldn't see any moving boxes or suitcases or really anything that indicated anyone else was living there. Either Yelena had already packed or she just wanted to keep all her personal things to herself.

"Temporary roommate." Natasha corrected making the blonde huff. "Who still hasn't gotten the groceries." Yelena mumbled something under her breath in Russian as she trudged towards the door. She glanced your way once then looked back as if second guessing you. She narrowed her eyes slightly and you fidgeted on the spot, feeling nervous under her gaze.

"What did you see?" She asked.

"I'm sorry?" You replied, not knowing where the question came from.

"What did you want to tell Natasha about." You stared at her blankly for a second before you suddenly realised what she meant.

"Oh! I saw a man walking seven ferrets." You said with a fond smile as you remembered the way their leads were getting caught up as the scrambled over each other. Yelena stared back at you. "Seven is a lot." You said. She still didn't seem to get it. "I like ferrets." You mumbled as you felt embarrassed.

She didn't say anything as she looked you over one more time and opened the door to leave, shutting it firmly behind her. You released a breath you didn't know you had been holding once the door clicked shut.

"Seven?" Natasha teased with a smirk as put some toast in the toaster. You grumbled as you walked over to the kitchen island and leant against it.

"She's intense." You commented and whipped your head around to the door, afraid she would walk back in.

"She's my sister." Natasha said casually.

"Sister? What?! Since when did you- Sister?!" Natasha chuckled at your reaction and shrugged simply.

"It's complicated."

"Everything with you is." You fired back. "Look I'll tell you our life story later." She waved off. You had known Natasha for years and considered each other your closest friends. You told her everything but you understood early on that there was a lot about her life she couldn't talk about. Whether it was because it could endanger you to know or it was simply to painful to recall, there would always be something.

"And I'm sorry about her wanting to shoot you. She's a lot." Natasha sighed, clearly tired. She had been away for months and you guessed she had found Yelena at some point during that mission. She had only been back a week and clearly needed a break. You wondered if she would finally take Fury up on his promise of a vacation.

"She's just protective." You shrugged. "Like someone else I know." You eyed the redhead with a smile. Yelena honestly seemed nothing short of terrifying to you, but you weren't going to admit that to your friend who would remind you of it every chance she got.

"Trust you to defend someone who put a gun on you." Natasha rolled her eyes and pushed a hot drink towards you.

"She seems nice." That wasn't the right word and given the look Natasha gave you she agreed. "Witty?" You tried. Natasha pulled a face in disagreement and you sighed in defeat. "Whatever, she's cute though." You thought aloud. Natasha shot you a warning look.

"Don't go crushing on my sister, y/n." She said with a serious edge to her tone. You laughed at her sudden shift and fell down on her sofa to grab the remote to start binging the shows Natasha had missed with you.

"I wouldn't dream of it."

*

It was a Friday night when you saw the blonde next. The bar you worked at was surprisingly quiet for the day but you didn't mind at all. Less people meant less chance of having to deal with a drunken fight. Not that that ever really happened there.

You worked in a small bar that had been running since long before you were born. It wasn't the most out there establishment and combined with it's location on the quieter, arguably more sketchy, parts of the city, it wasn't massively popular. In fact, everyone who showed up at the bar you recognised instantly, lest the rare groups of people who stumbled upon the building. No one who went there was all that talkative, but you had come to know each of them over the years.

It wasn't that the bar itself was sketchy. It wasn't involved in illegal gambling or drug dealings. It was just that it seemed to remind people of home. You had alcohols there that you just couldn't find in shops or other bars. Behind the bar was everything from Mexico's brightest palomas to Russia's strongest vodka. The latter was what had drawn Natasha to your worn down place of work the first time you met her. While she didn't like to be reminded of her past in Russia, like a couple other customers you had, she couldn't deny she missed the booze. So you guessed you shouldn't have been surprised to see Yelena joining her that night.

"Just give it a chance will you." Natasha scolded her younger sister in a hushed voice. You smiled at the encounter as the pair came towards the bar. Everything the redhead had been able to tell you about her time away was evident from the way the siblings interacted. It really hadn't taken them long to fall back into the squabbling sisters role, like they hadn't ever been apart.

Yelena grumbled something in Russian as she glanced around the bar, her eyes soon landing on yours and just as unreadable as the last time you saw her. The memory had been playing a lot in your head.

"Hi again." You smiled at her before turning your attention to your friend. "The usual?"

"For this one too." Natasha nodded to her sister as she sat down on a stall, soon followed by Yelena.

You took two shot glasses from the shelf and put them infront of the sisters and opened a bottle of Natasha's favourite bottle. You filled the both to the brim and put the bottle on the counter, knowing the redhead wanted it there. Natasha wasn't really a regular drinker, but when she did enduldge herself she didn't seem to have a limit. You had never once seen her drunk.

Natasha didn't hesitate in tilting her head back with the glass at her lips and didn't flinch when she swallowed the drink. Yelena rolled her eyes but copied anyway.

You carried on with drying some glasses and tried not to pay close attention to the blonde's reaction. You always loved the moment that customers realised they had found the drinks of their country. And as Yelena was harder to read, it took extra attention to detail to spot the moment of realisation. Natasha was watching for it too.

Yelena shrugged. She shrugged, clearly underwhelmed. "It's good." She commented. Natasha sighed dramatically and poured herself another shot as she grumbled about never being able to please her sister.

You went back to your duties properly and shook your head with a sigh. First time for everything. However when you risked a glanced at Yelena you saw a hint of a smile tug at the corner of her lips. You grinned to yourself, deciding then that you were determined to see a proper smile from the blonde at some point.

"What's got you smiling?" Natasha asked with a smirk.

"Am I not allowed to just smile, Tasha?" You quipped back.

"I take it your date went well." You groaned at the mention of the event.

"It actually really didn't." You huffed. It was actually one of the worst dates you had ever been on. You had been giggling like a school girl when Natasha told you a shield agent had eyes for you. The two of you exchanged numbers and arranged a date but it became clear to you pretty quickly she wasn't as ready to date again as she thought she was. "She's definitely not over her ex." She grimaced. Natasha hummed in thought.

"Okay, but do you want me to key her car?"

"She paid for my coffee!" You laughed, she always had to be dramatic with her protectiveness.

"Is that a no then?" Yelena asked. You honestly had no idea if she was joking or not.

"It's a no." You confirmed with a smile.

"I'm sure I can find you someone else." Natasha said confidently. You hummed in response and watched her pour another pair of shots.

"That's okay, Tasha. Maybe you should focus on yourself and a certain other redhead." You grinned. Natasha shot daggers at you as Yelena whipped her head around to stare at her sister.

"You have a boy..." She paused and scanned her sister quickly. "Girlfriend?" She concluded. You snickered and poured a drink for another customer, focusing on him momentarily as the pair bickered further.

"There is nothing going on with me and Wanda!" Natasha exclaimed.

"The magic one?" Yelena asked with interest.

"The magic one." You confirmed with a grin.

"What's she like?" The blonde continued as she leaned forward.

"She's better than you Сволоч (jerks)." Natasha mumbled as she rolled her eyes.

"And a total babe." You added and leapt back when the redhead went to hit you.

"Y/n!" You spun around at hearing a familiar voice. Joseph, your oldest regular, was making his way through the room towards the end of the bar, a fond smile etched into the deep lines on his face.

"Hey, pal." You smiled back and went to prepare his usual as he started to chat away at you.

"You never had anything with her?" Yelena asked boldly as she tilted her glass towards you.

"Y/n?" Natasha was surprised to say the least. She had never thought of you that way and no one else had ever asked about it. "No." She chuckled, thinking of all the times you had done everything in your power just to get her and Wanda alone in a room together. "Why'd you ask?"

"I just wondered." She said as she tapped her glass in thought, grey eyes watched you actively engage in conversation with the older man. Natasha narrowed her eyes at her sister.

"Right. Just don't crush on my best friend." She warned as she poured her sister another shot.

"You got it." She nodded and threw her head back as she downed the shot.

*

You ended up seeing Yelena quite frequently. Not only did she join Natasha in coming to the bar, but she seemed to always be there when you visited your friend too. She wasn't much of a small talker, you learned that quickly, but the passing moments you happened to be alone in each others company stopped being awkward quickly.

Yelena was surprisingly easy to get along with. Once you had found a common ground of interest (making fun of Natasha) you could easily carry a conversation with her, but she was still closed off - something you were expecting given her past. There was one evening that made that as clear as it could be.

"I'm just saying the Avengers would be very happy to have you!" Natasha exclaimed with a smile as you sat giggling next to her.

"I'm not going to be a hero." Yelena waved off. She had quickly began agitated when she had nothing to do. There had always been something. Some mission. Some test. Some important training. Anything. And now she was free from the Red Room Yelena was struggling to know what she could do. You could tell she wanted to have a meaningful role, you just doubted she was going to admit that.

"There's always bounty hunting." You suggested as you flicked through the thin file in your lap. Sometimes when Natasha was struggling with a particular case file she gave it to you for a new insight. You never got a name or any big details in the files and it still wasn't entirely within the rules, but sometimes you actually helped.

"He bled to death from the stabbing, then he was shot." You muttered to the redhead as you passed the file back. Turns out being a drop out med student was good for something. While Natasha was the best of the best, she was still human and there were things even she overlooked from time to time that you picked up on.

"That's a good one." Yelena agreed as she sipped on her beer, pondering the suggestion.

"But why even go for something like this at all?" You said. Natasha and Yelena gave you a confused glance.

"I'm sticking to what I'm good at." The blonde said slowly.

"I'm sure you're skill set expands beyond all...this." You waved your arms around aimlessly. "Was there anything you remember enjoying before?" You asked curiously and Yelena instantly stiffened.

"No." She said bluntly and put her bottle down on the table. "Bounty hunting sounds good, I'll look in to it." She said as she left the living room area and headed towards her room without a second glance.

Your throat felt dry suddenly as guilt washed over you. What kind of a question even was that? She was only a kid when it happened, part of you wondered if she even remembered the part of her life before the Red Room.

"She's okay." Natasha assured, as though reading your mind.

"I shouldn't have asked." You muttered.

"Probably not, but for what it's worth" Natasha started as she went to put the shield file away "I thought you were onto something."

So you never asked about her past again, but that didn't stop you from thinking about it. You wondered if it was something she and Natasha talked about, only able to confide in one another about the nightmares they shared. Or was it an unspoken thing, something that they kept in the deepest darkest parts of their minds? You didn't expect to ever get an answer to that question.

Not so deadly assassin: THERE'S A FUCKING RAT IN MY ROOM

Not so deadly assassin: come deal with it!!!

Not so deadly assassin: Y/N

Not so deadly assassin: oh NOW you have a life

Not so deadly assassin: if you don't come over in 5 minutes I'm killing it

You huffed as you took your phone out of your pocket to see who had been blowing up your phone. You skimmed over Natasha's messages and sent a quick threat telling her if she ended the rat's life you would end hers and sped up your walk.

Luckily you were only a few minutes away from Natasha's apartment and after running up the stairs a few at a time you knocked on your friend's door and licked your partly spilt drink off your hand with a curse.

Yelena opened the door and motioned for you to come inside, seeming unfazed by your arrival and no doubt knowing why you were there. "Is she okay?" You asked as you looked around frantically.

"She just got called away for a mission." Yelena said as she led you through the apartment to Natasha's room.

"I meant the rat." You mumbled and spotted it in the corner. Yelena snickered at your comment and leant against the door frame as she watched you slowly approach the rodent.

"How did it even get in here?" You asked as you cooed and held your hand out to the rat that considered you curiously.

"Came in through the window apparently. I think Natasha wants to tear down the fire escape now." Yelena deadpanned.

"Like either of you need it anyway." The rat came closer to you and sniffed your hand before walking onto it. You picked up the small creature and placed her down gently on the fire escape before shutting the window.

"Was that so hard?" You said with a smile.

"They carry disease, you know?" Yelena fired back.

"So do we!" You exclaimed and paused when Yelena gave you a side eye. "Okay some of us." You corrected as you washed your hands.

"I hope she didn't call you away from anything important." Yelena said as she glanced at the hot drink you had left on the counter.

"I was just about to go to the pharmacy." You shrugged.

"It's your lucky day, I need band aids." Yelena declared as she picked up her satchel bag.

"Band...aids?" You questioned with a shit eating grin as you grabbed your drink and headed for the door with the blonde behind you.

"Yes, y/n. I need band aids. You're as bad as Natasha, she doesn't seem to think we need them either. We have everything in that bathroom except band aids!" You giggled as you watched her ramble in exasperation, finding it undeniably cute when she got lost in her own world about something.

"So if you're bleeding to death you'll be fine but if you get a papercut then things are gonna get bad?" You teased as you left the building. Yelena rolled her eyes at you but seemed to not be able to stop the small smile fighting for it's appearance, tugging at the corner of her mouth.

"It's a pretty big papercut." She mumbled as she inspected the cut on her forefinger.

"Well I think you're very brave." You grinned.

You walked in a comfortable silence for a while until your eyes landed on something that spiked every happy hormone in your body. "Yelena!" You grabbed at her arm and pointed across the street. The blonde was understandably alarmed at first and you noticed her reach into her back pocket for something until she saw what you were pointing at.

"Seven ferrets." Yelena muttered as she watched the small animals half run down the street infront of their owner.

"Seven adorable ferrets." You corrected as you watched them continue to scurry along.

"I can see how that could be the highlight of your week." Yelena recalled and you couldn't help but blush slightly. "I think this is the highlight of mine." She admitted.

"You're only human." You sighed as you turned around to keep walking, a content smile on your lips.

"Why don't you have pets if they make you so happy?" Yelena asked curiously.

"Not allowed in my apartment." You said gloomily. It was probably for the best, you would have a lot of pets if you could, too many to handle.

"If you think about it, rats are just small ferrets and you see those everyday. You could go find some more." Yelena teased and you chuckled.

"Haven't you heard? They carry disease." It was Yelena's turn to laugh lightly at that. You smiled proudly at causing the beautiful sound and felt your stomach do a small flip.

*

It turned out all the Avengers were keen to have Yelena on their team. Tony and Steve had introduced themselves to the new Russian one evening and bored (Yelena's words) her with stories of their latest successful missions and how great it was to be an Avenger. She didn't buy it.

Then she started getting emails and texts from the team, inviting her to different events and trying to get on her good side. Tony had even sent an extravagant gift basket to the apartment one day. Yelena had asked you to spend the afternoon sorting through it with her, snacking on all the expensive chocolates on the way as you told the blonde you thought she had a secret admirer.

It was early in the afternoon when she finally agreed to meeting the whole team.

"I just think it could be fun. I know they probably seem like annoying children right now, but at those parties they have to behave." You said into the phone as you balanced it on your shoulder.

"I don't think I own the right kind of clothing for it." Yelena said.

"I'm sure Natasha can lend you something, she is your big sister after all." You teased and heard her groan.

"You don't even have to stay long. But once you actually meet them they'll lay off about you joining if you still don't want to."

"It's just not-"

"Your thing." You finished with a smile. "I know, Lena. They'll get it." She hummed in thought and a silence fell over your phones until you cursed. "Shit." You muttered when the table leg fell down again.

"You need help putting that table together?" Yelena asked for the umpteenth time. You sighed as you sat back and glared at the parts sprawled out across the floor.

"Yes please."

*

Yelena Belova wearing a suit was something else entirely. Every outfit her sister offered her she turned down until Natasha grew frustrated and took Yelena out for a suit fitting, and god it paid off. The blazer hugged her body closely in a way you partly wished you could feel. You knew the blonde wasn't big on any form of affection, especially physical, but you loved it and Yelena had become a good friend. During late evenings when she was sitting comfortably in an armchair with a large hoodie on you thought she looked so soft and warm. You could only imagine how safe you would feel in her arms. You always had to put those thoughts aside quickly, not wanting to let your mind linger on things so intimate.

"Told you this place isn't so bad." You laughed nervously as Yelena approached you. She smiled and shook her head, her eyes looking so much brighter in the new lighting.

"I can't argue with that." The blonde shrugged and followed you to the bar.

"You um, you look amazing by the way." You said as she avoided Yelena's gaze, not wanting to let your eyes wander the way they were straining to. Unfortunately that meant you missed how she took in your attire and the admiration she struggled to hide.

"So do you." She smiled.

"Evening." Natasha said with a smirk as she came up to you and Yelena from the other side of the bar.

"This does not feel right at all." You winced making the redhead smile, more so when she prepared what she knew was your favourite drink.

"Yelena! You running away from me?" Sam grinned as he strolled towards the bar. You smiled into your drink when you saw the blonde shift on her feet in slight frustration.

"You gotta come meet Maria, you're gonna love her!" He exclaimed as he tried to steer Yelena away. She looked back at you with a face that was clearly asking for help but you just giggled as she left and waved goodbye to her.

"Has she met Wanda yet?" You grinned at Natasha knowingly and a slight blush appeared on her cheeks.

"She has." You hummed and looked across the room to spot the Sokovian in question. "And?"

"And they only just stopped talking when you arrived." You nodded with a triumphant smile, knowing the pair would get along. You missed Natasha's short analysis of your expression, trying to find the thing she knew you were hiding until someone else arrived at the other end of the bar and she rushed off.

You leaned over the bar to pour yourself another drink and started across the room. It didn't take long at all to find Wanda, or rather for her to find you.

"Y/n!" She exclaimed as she pulled you in for a crushing hug barely a second after you had turned around.

"Hey Wan." You laughed as you tried to hug her back.

"How are you, sweetie?" She asked as she let you go.

"I'm good, how have things been for you?" It had been far too long since you had seen the Sokovian and you missed her company a lot. She had such a calming presence that you always felt so comfortable around. You had told her that once, not knowing the fears she faced of her powers and the mistrust she had in herself, and she had teared up as she pulled you in for your first Wanda hug.

"So, I hear you met Yelena." You smiled after a while of catching up with the redhead.

"I was slightly terrified of her at first." She admitted with a laugh.

"She had a gun on me when we met!" You exclaimed as you remembered it clearly.

"So I heard." Wanda teased. "I also hear you guys are getting on like a house on fire." She continued as she watched you carefully.

"Yeah." You muttered as you spotted her talking to Maria. "She's pretty great." You said easily.

You spent a while catching up with various team members between drinks. You kept steeling glances at Yelena, mostly catching her in conversations she clearly didn't want to be in but a few times you caught her eye and paused to smile at her. She was always beautiful but you really couldn't get over how she looked in the navy suit.

You were sat by the bar when the party started to come to an end. You usually would have left a while ago but you wanted to be able to say goodbye to Yelena before you did.

"I'm exhausted." Came the familiar husky voice from behind you. Yelena leaned on the bar next to you and poured herself a vodka and downed the shot.

"Me too!" You said loudly with a slight slur. Yelena paused before letting a smile creep onto her lips as she watched you with an amused glint in her eyes.

"How much have you had to drink?" Yelena asked as she took your glass away from you.

"A few." You thought as you tried to calculate in your head but just shrugged in conclusion.

"легкий (lightweight)." The Russian muttered.

"Hey, come over here." Natasha called as she rounded a corner and spotted you and her sister. "We're putting a film on." She declared. You glanced around and noticed that everyone had gone. When did that happen?

"Let's go, Lena!" You called as you took her by the hand and led her through to where Natasha had gone.

"Are you sure?" She questioned as she looked down at your entwined hands.

"Absolutely!" You jumped up a few steps and saw the group sitting around the large TV on the comfy sofas.

"I missed these." You said to Yelena as you fell down onto the nearest sofa and pulled her down next to you. Natasha placed some snacks down on the table and eyed your joined hands without a comment.

You brought your legs up underneath you, not unlocking your fingers when the blonde's who didn't seem to mind. The other Avengers didn't seem to take much notice or interest in how close you were to Yelena and thanks to your slightly tipsy state you didn't bring much attention to it either. All you knew was that you felt comfortable sitting so close to the Russian that your bare arm was touching her soft blazer.

"Your hands are really soft." You whispered to her. She smiled to herself and tried to fight off the slight blush painting her cheeks that you, lucky for Yelena, didn't notice.

"So are yours." She whispered back.

What you didn't realise was that Natasha was still paying close attention to you both with Wanda smiling knowingly besides her, even when the film started and the lights dimmed. She finally stopped when she heard Wanda laugh lightly at something on screen, turning her attention to the girl besides her and then the film.

Barely 10 minutes in you found yourself growing sleepy. The dark room and the warmth of Yelena were certainly part of the cause but you found you really didn't mind, especially when your head fell onto Yelena's shoulder and she didn't shake you off.

Your eyes struggled to focus on the screen and really anything that wasn't the blonde when she shifted on the sofa to let you lean back against her. You smiled faintly as you let your eyes close and relax against Yelena, your hand still in hers.

*

You awoke when the main lights started to come back on and you felt Yelena stretch behind you. Her blazer was draped across your front and you smiled like an idiot when you realised. She had only worn it for a few hours and it already smelt like her.

"Hey." She husked and you felt a chill run through your body when her breath hit your neck.

"Hey yourself." You grinned back.

"Come on, let's get you home." She said as she sat up on the sofa.

"Can you get me a cab?" You asked as you rubbed your eyes.

"I'll drive you." Yelena stood up and held out her hand to help you up too. You took it happily and leaned against her for support for a moment.

You said goodbye to the team and made your way slowly out of the living area and eventually out the building in a concentrated silence. Concentrated for you, Yelena didn't have any issue putting one foot infront of the other.

"You guys okay getting home?" Natasha called from the entrance as Yelena helped you into her car. You gave Natasha two thumbs up and grinned her way as Yelena nodded. The redhead nodded back and folded her arms as she watched you carefully leave the building site.

It wasn't that long a drive to your apartment. Yelena drove in silence while you hummed along faintly to a song playing quietly on the radio, unaware of the smile playing on the blonde's lips.

When Yelena had parked outside your apartment complex she helped you out the car and up to your apartment, unlocking the door for you and guiding you through to your room where she lay you on the bed gently.

"You should change." Yelena said as she got some of your night clothes from the closet and went into the kitchen to get you a glass of water.

"You should stay." You grinned at her. She arched a brow at you in question but you didn't respond, only turning around on the bed. "Can you help me with my zipper?"

Yelena nodded and put the glass of water down on your bedside table and pulled the zipper down, trying to ignore the urge to see if the skin on your back was as smooth as it looked. She cleared her throat when she realised the zipper went lower than she thought, reaching your tailbone. Yelena took a step back and turned towards the opposite wall as she heard you step out of the dress and into your bed clothes.

"You should take some too." You said when you pulled the duvet back.

"You really want me to stay?" Yelena questioned, it looked like you were starting to sober up.

"Of course!" You grinned as you leaned on your elbows to watch her and patted the space in bed besides you.

"Okay." She smiled and got some clothes from your closet that she quickly changed into when you looked away to drink the water she had given you.

Yelena folded her suit on a chair in the corner of the room before hesitantly getting into the warm bed besides you. But she surprisingly felt a lot more at ease when you draped an arm over her stomach as you closed your eyes. Yelena sighed lightly at the contact. She never thought she was one for physical contact, but she had been wondering what it would be like to receive it from you for a while. Even craved it after you had held her hand earlier that night.

"Night Lena" You mumbled sleepily. Yelena put her hand on your waist to pull you closer to her and brushed a stray strand of hair away from you face.

"Good night y/n."

*

Despite the killer headache that greeted you, you actually woke up feeling pretty great. Your bed was warmer than usual and you didn't feel quite as alone as you always did in the large bed.

You rubbed your eyes and groaned but froze when you felt a hand on your bare waist where your shirt had ridden up. Yelena was sleeping soundlessly besides you and your breath caught in your throat when you took in her appearance. The sunlight seeping into the bedroom hit her face just right and you had to remind yourself not to stare, even if she wasn't awake to notice it.

You spotted a bottle of advil on the bedside table and a fresh glass of water that you took together. You tried to be careful not to wake Yelena but she started to move when you did, her soft hand slipping from your waist.

"Morning." You said after finishing the glass of water and wiping your mouth with the back of your wrist. Yelena groaned as she stretched out like a cat and looked up at you.

"Morning to you too." She smiled and you wondered if she knew she had her hand on your waist just a few seconds prior.

"Feel free to take a shower and borrow some of my clothes." You offered as you stood up from the bed and made your way across the room.

"Thanks." She hummed quietly. "Hey." You turned around by the door when she called you. "How did you sleep?" She asked curiously as she sat up to face you properly.

"Like a rock." You recalled happily. "You?"

"Yeah," Yelena smiled back, "pretty great." You nodded and made your way to kitchen as Yelena got out of bed with a content smile.

Yelena was in the shower when you started on breakfast. Usually you would have made something simple like toast or some fruit but you figured as you had a guest you should make something better and settled on pancakes. You also wanted to thank her for staying the night with you.

"That smells amazing." Yelena said with wide eyes as she trudged into the kitchen, still drying her hair. Your heart swelled at the sight of the blonde in one of your band shirts with some loose shorts. Your thought that your clothes probably looked better on her and you imagined how soft she would look in your favorite hoodie.

"Take a picture, it will last longer." She teased when you didn't respond. You snapped out of your daze and smiled sheepishly as you avoided her eye and continued to flip the pancakes. You put a plate down on the kitchen island and motioned for her to eat as you put some juice and fruit down too.

"No pressure, but what I think of you as a chef is going to be determined by these." She quipped as she started to cut the food. You smiled and turned around to watch the blonde's face change into a childish grin.

"Not too shabby." You concluded before shovelling more of the food into her mouth.

"No too shabby." You repeated with a sense of pride as you sat down next to her.

"That's what they used to say on the American shows I watched as a kid." She explained. You were about to tell her you had heard the expression before but paused when you realised it was the first time Yelena said anything about her childhood to you.

"Weren't they translated?" You asked carefully.

"No because they were copies from America. My father got them for us." She said and you noticed the far away look in her eyes, no doubt remembering that day as best she could.

"Well if you remember what the show's called we can try watch them again." You suggested with a shrug. Yelena considered you for a moment before she smiled at you softly. "Okay." She agreed. You opened your mouth to speak but there was a sudden loud thudding on your apartment door. You went to stand up to see who it was until Natasha opened the door and slammed it shut making you jump.

"I locked that door." Yelena said with certainty.

"I have a spare key." Natasha showed the metal piece before putting it back into her pocket.

"You want pancakes?" You asked as you stood up to put some more batter in the pan.

"What's going on with you two?" The redhead demanded, ignoring your question.

"What do you mean?" You and Yelena used in unison.

"You know exactly what I mean!" Natasha exclaimed as she raised her voice and looked between you and her equally baffled sister. "Are you dating? You could have told me." She continued as a hurt expression flickered across her face.

"We're not dating." Yelena said slowly but glanced at you. "Are we?" You could have sworn you heard her voice hold something hopeful rather than teasing.

"Not since I last checked."

"Can you quit fucking around and just tell me?" Natasha took a second look at the shirt Yelena was wearing before her jaw clenched.

"Oh no no no. We didn't- she just slept over!" You rambled as you started to panic. Natasha looked far from happy. You had been thinking a lot about what your friend had said the first time you met Yelena. You were never sure if she was really serious or not. All you knew was you that you started to feel guilty when your eyes lingered too long on her sister or when you felt the butterflies in your chest at her contact or really anything she did. You told yourself you kept your promise and didn't have a crush on Yelena, but it was becoming increasingly harder to convince yourself and now Natasha.

"You can tell me." The redhead said quieter as her stance softened. You looked to Yelena who seemed set on staying silent as she stared at her empty plate.

"Natasha I really don't know what to say..." You honestly didn't. You were baffled by the whole situation and Yelena was hardly helping. She really thought you were dating?

"Right, I just wanted to know." The older Russian sighed as she trudged towards the door. There was a heavy silence over the apartment until Natasha stopped by the open door to turn towards you both with a frown.

"I didn't mean it. What I said about..." She glanced around as she fidgeted in the doorway and searched for words. You and Yelena waited patiently. "Wanda said you guys are cute." A smile flickered at the corner of your mouth and you looked to the floor. "She's right." She left without another word and shut the door gently behind her. You exhaled heavily once you heard the click and leaned against the counter.

"Crazy, right?" You laughed nervously. Yelena didn't respond. "You okay?" You started filling the washing up bowl with water, needing to do something as you talked.

"She thinks we're dating." Yelena muttered.

"Yeah that's what I... that's crazy." You laughed more and scratched the back of your neck.

"Is it?" She questioned as she turned around to face you. You couldn't help but stare back at her light eyes that you struggled to read.

"Maybe not." You shrugged. The blonde looked back at the ground with a conflicted look. "No... no it's not." You concluded.

"I like spending time with you." Yelena continued. "Just hanging out, helping you put together that damn table, sleeping next to you. Even at that damn party with like one hundred people I still just wanted to be with you." She admitted and you exhaled a breath you didn't know you had been holding. "I just like being around you."

"I like being around you too." Yelena looked up and you held her gaze as your hands shook with nerves.

"Would you still like being around me if we were on a date?" She asked boldly. You couldn't contain the smile that grew at her words. You reached out and took her hands in yours as you took a step closer to the Russian.

"I would love it." Yelena smiled and stood up slowly, her eyes flickering to your lips as you licked them. You closed your eyes and leaned forward bravely, finding your hands were no longer shaking. Yelena's left hand left yours and came up to your neck to steady herself and close the gap between you, pressing her lips ever so softly against yours.

You snaked your hand around her waist to bring her somehow closer and deepened the kiss you realised you had been craving for so long. You pulled away softly and rested your forehead against Yelena's, suddenly feeling very dizzy.

"I have a huge crush on you." You admitted with a sigh, to yourself and Yelena.

"I have a huge crush on you too." Yelena laughed softly. "Can we do that date now? I think I've waited long enough." You giggled lightly and nodded your head as excitement rushed over you.

"Sounds perfect." You smiled and went to your bedroom to get changed but paused in the hallway. "You should call Nat."

~ ~ ~ ~ ~

Taglist: @caroldanvers2 @marvelwomen-simp @likefirenrain @horcruxhunter90 @mrs-avenger3000 @marvelwomenslut @grxvitye @emilyprentisslittlewhore @lostandsearching @firenrain13 @bxngbxngintothewomb @gayarchnemessis

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[moon3thereal]

I have a request with Nat x reader. It’s a party at the compound and nobody has ever seen Nat drunk but this night she was completely gone like blackout drunk. So you end up having to carry her to her room and take care of her but she accidentally admits her love for you, you end up sleeping on the armchair in the room and in the morning you wake up to a Nat that’s throwing up on the floor, at first she don’t remember shit but later during the day she remembered what she said and gets really flustered and embarrassed but it ends I fluff reader admits her love for Nat to

Title: Drunken Confessions

Pairings: Natasha Romanoff x fem!reader

Genre: Fluff

Warnings: alcohol

a/n: thank you for the request! happy reading <3

1.4k

Everyone knew Tony Stark loved the glamour of his extravagant parties often threw in the Avengers tower. Everyone also knew that while everyone else got batshit drunk, the black widow never got even slightly tipsy after several rounds of drinking games when everyone else was drunk enough to strip to their undergarments and start pole dancing. She always only watched with a hint of amusement glinting in her emerald eyes

That led to the bet going on amongst the other Avengers, Tony threw in a solid 500 dollars to whoever got Natasha drunk while the others put in smaller amounts. Thor had been lurking around with a smug grin for a whole 5 minutes since the party had started, you had no doubt that he’d been up to no good and opted not to touch the alcohol at the bar for tonight.

Spotting a certain redhead, you sidled up to the bar in your new dress that you definitely haven’t bought to impress her and new heels that again, you definitely didn’t buy to awe her. “Someone put in effort for tonight’s party” Natasha said, dropping her gaze to your heels and all the way up until she met your eyes “trying to impress someone?” she winked teasingly. Damn it, were you that obvious “Steve maybe?” she pressed, seating yourself on one of the rotatable, red leather stools you laughed “I don’t swing that way”

Natasha hummed in acknowledgement “me neither” she said. You turned to look at her so quickly that you thought you may have given yourself whiplash “Then…You and Bruce?” you asked cautiously “there’s a reason that didn’t work out” she said, taking a sip of her martini and sending her glass a peculiar look “you’re new?” she asked the bartender “no ma’am I’ve been working here for three years” Natasha’s lips formed into a silent ‘oh’ and you stifled a laugh

After a few more glasses of alcohol, Natasha was clearly very drunk, the rest of the avengers who hadn’t seen Thor’s expression of obvious smugness had drunk the alcohol unknowingly too and Tony and Steve were challenging each other to a dance off. In their boxers. You watched with amusement and second-hand embarrassment. Meanwhile, the Russian that was the heart of all this chaos was standing across the room apparently having an argument with Clint about whether the walls are green or red. The walls are white. Then it suddenly clicked in your mind, the only alcohol that could get her so shockingly drunk, Asgardian liquor

Of course, why hadn’t you thought about it before. Thor was incredibly competitive even if he didn’t look it. You continued sitting aside from all the havoc erupting on the party floor taking tentative sips from the water you’d brought, keeping an eye on Natasha before she does something stupid. Normally that was her job, unbeknownst to you, Natasha always looked out for you during Tony’s parties, knowing your alcohol tolerance wasn’t exactly high.

Glancing at the clock, you could see that it was almost 3 in the morning and the noises had died down and all the Avengers were splayed out on the couch only half awake, Natasha was half laid half seated on two bar stools barely keeping herself upright. Deciding that you really didn’t want her to fall off and give herself a concussion, you tugged at her sleeve “come on Nat, we’re going back to your bedroom” she smirked at you with her painted lips which were normally perfect but tonight, they were slightly smudged, you liked the look on her though

“Bedroom? Getting frisky already y/l/n?” you raised your eyebrows while helping her off the chair and draping your jacket around her shoulders “getting concerned about how drunk you are” you corrected. Natasha hummed and after a few steps let her head slump onto your shoulder, you were half supporting and half carrying her but you were glad she wasn’t sober right now because your heart was probably going a million miles a minute, her hair smelt so nice, her tresses were gently tickling your neck

Caught up in your thoughts you had to abruptly steer Natasha towards her bedroom before she walked directly into a wall. Practically dumping her onto the bed with a huff from the exertion of dragging her all the way back to her room, you pulled off her heels and hung up the jacket “I love y/n, don’t you think she’s just so pretty, she’s so smart too and how she fights, it’s soooo hot” she slurred and your cheeks heated up.

You were ready to dismiss it as a hallucination, you had feelings for the redhead, you’d been harboring them for a good 2 months because you thought they’d never be reciprocated. But Natasha turned to you “do you think she likes me too?” she asked “yeah, yeah I’m sure she does” you whispered. Natasha seemed to hear it, she sighed contentedly and let her eyes close. Making your way out of the room, you heard her say “stay” it was barely a whisper but you heard it and you could never refuse her

So you slumped onto her chair with your chin supported by the heel of your hand just appreciating how gorgeous she looked even blackout drunk, ginger hair all over the place and smudged makeup. It sounded creepy but you were really just taking the advantage of being able to stare at her now before she’s sober again tomorrow and your act of indifference had to come up again.

You didn’t know at what point you fell asleep but you woke up to Natasha rushing to the bathroom and throwing up in the toilet. Hastily pulling her hair back into a ponytail, you rubbed her back in an attempt to soothe her. She glanced up at you when she was done and flushed the toilet “why are you here?” she asked while rinsing her mouth in the sink and holding a hand to her head while wincing. You tried to hide your disappointment, last night it was the alcohol speaking, not her, it didn’t even make sense that she would remember it, really. “you couldn’t stay on your feet on your own, let alone walk back to your room, I wanted to make sure you were okay so I slept in that armchair” you gestured to the armchair at the corner of her room

“You didn’t have to do that” she said “but I’m glad you did, thank you” sending you a tired smile. You squeezed her shoulder “I’m gonna go make some breakfast you want some?” you asked at her doorway “please” she said while removing the makeup from the night before. You nodded and made your way to the kitchen

Once you step foot in the kitchen, you saw Thor with a triumphant smile on his face and the rest of the Avengers grumbling, you slapped a 50 dollar note on the table, shaking your head amusedly as you passed by. Thor’s grin widened further as he stuffed the money into his pocket. There were pancakes in the pan, courtesy of Wanda most probably. You put two each on separate plates, slathering Nutella on yours and drizzling syrup on Natasha’s. you made some coffee and poured out two mugs

When you came back to the table, Natasha was already seated wearing a hoodie, one of yours you realized with a skip of your heartbeat, and sweatpants. Setting the plate and mug of coffee in front of her, you took a seat and dug in.

It was only in the afternoon when you and Natasha were working on reports that her cheeks suddenly went pink and she stared at you with an expression of mortification. You frowned at her sudden distress and walked over to her “what’s wrong?” you asked, genuinely concerned. “last night, what I said, I’m sorry if I made you uncomfortable, I didn’t, I mean, I do feel that way, but if you don’t it’s completely understandable and I-” you cut her off by pressing your lips to hers, the feeling of her lips against yours was heavenly, they were soft and tasted like her vanilla and cherry chapstick.

“I love you too” you whispered slightly dazed from the fact that you’d just kissed Natasha and that she hadn’t pulled away “show me how much” she said and kissed you again.

Taglist: @phoenixofash @michelle-dsn @midgardianweasley

[katyasrussianaccent]

symptom of your touch (natasha romanoff x reader)

Author's note: This is my first natasha smut fic, been writing it in my head for so long. Hopefully you enjoy this piece of self-indulgent smut!

Summary: You're Tony's personal assistant with a crush on Black Widow. Could it be possible that she might feel the same?

Warnings: Bathroom sex, bottom! Nat.

The first time you met Natasha was in the meeting room at Stark tower. You’d been working as Tony’s personal assistant for about two months now; a job that was both unexpected but incredibly appreciated - the daily bills through your letterbox were getting more and more threatening, red words in large letters demanding money you didn’t have.

You were a friend of Sam’s; you used to jog together before you were replaced by Captain America. You didn’t mind, not really, because well, it was Captain America. You couldn’t compete with that ass. And while you didn’t jog as much, Sam always made sure you were okay.

Like most people; you were a fan of the Avengers. If you had to pick a favourite, it would have been Black Widow. Maybe it was because she was the only woman, but there was something about her that you just really liked. And it wasn’t just because she’s really fucking hot and you’re really gay.

You had walked into the meeting room; your hands full with various drinks. For superheroes, the Avengers were really particular about their drink orders; for instance Thor gets really annoyed if they forget the whipped cream on his hot chocolate. You walked round the room, handing each drink out and trying to not look so obvious as you eavesdropped. You handed Clint his drink and turned towards Natasha. You assumed she had been away on a mission, because she hadn’t been around until now. You swallowed a little; the object of your affections was literally sitting right in front of you.

“Agent Romanoff,” you said, holding out her drink; a matcha green tea latte. She looked at you for a second, a thoughtful look on her face as she cocked her head towards Tony.

“What happened to…..?” Natasha trailed off, looking at Tony expectantly.

“Shannon. Pregnant,” Tony answered, putting his hands out over his abdomen to mimic a pregnant stomach. “She was two seconds away from turning the floor into a slip and slide.”

Natasha scrunched her nose up before looking back at you. She took the drink from your hand, a small smile on her face before she turned back to the team. And it was in that brief moment, that you knew that she was going to be a big problem for you.

It’s a while before you see Natasha again; not that you were keeping check. You’re in the meeting room cleaning up; humming a song as you pick up pieces of paper. The door opens and you look behind to see Natasha standing in the doorway.

“Oh. Good afternoon Agent Romanoff,” you say, smiling. She was in her civilian clothes; a simple tank top and dark jeans. The jeans are practically molded to her shape, and it takes every ounce of willpower to not stare at her ass as she passes behind you. You aren’t sure how someone could make such a simple outfit look so amazing. “Did you need something?”

“Clint, he forgot his phone,” she replies, walking behind you and grabbing the cell phone that lay on the table. “I swear he would forget his head if it wasn’t attached.”

“Good thing he has you to keep him in check.”

She smiles politely in reply but doesn’t respond as she walks towards the door. Your mouth opens slightly to say something, anything, to make her stay just a little bit longer. You fail to do so in time, and you sigh as the door closes and the room is empty again. You aren’t sure what makes Natasha so fascinating, you’ve spoken to her literally twice, but there’s just something about her that makes her so enigmatic. Though you suppose it’s literally her job to be like that, and you briefly think of the people that have fallen under her spell.

It’s strange, how although she’s incredibly dangerous, she feels just like a normal person, a person that could kill you in one move, but a normal person nonetheless.

You’re chopping tomatoes in the kitchen, your mind starting to zone out as you watch the knife slice through with ease. It’s been a long day; while working for Tony has been a lifeline that you desperately needed, you don’t think you’ve ever felt so tired. The fridge door beside you closes, and you startle at the sudden noise, the knife moves from the tomato to your finger, the pain sharp as blood begins to pool in the cut.

“Fuck,” you say, hissing as you press you other hand against the cut, moving to the sink to run it under water.

“I am so sorry,” a voice says behind you, and you turn your head to see Natasha at your side. “Are you okay?”

You sigh a little, “I’m fine, but the tomatoes are ruined.”

Natasha moves nearer to you, so close you can feel the heat radiating from her body and any previous pain you felt has suddenly disappeared at the mere proximity of her. “It’s okay, Stark can afford a few tomatoes.”

You giggle before reaching over to get a paper towel, but Natasha beats you to it, pressing the towel onto your wound wordlessly.

“Baby,” she mutters as you wince and you look at her, mouth agape in shock. She ignores you, and you take this opportunity to look at her as she tends to the small cut on your finger. She must have been somewhere hot on her last mission; from this close you can see the slight colour on her nose and cheekbones where she’s caught the sun. As she moves out of your personal space, the scent of her invades your nostrils and you’re surprised that she smells so delicate and floral.

“I think you’ll live” she says, jutting her chin out to point to the small band aid on your finger.

“Have you ever thought about being a doctor?”

“Why? My bedside manner not appealing to you?” she asks, and you look down to hide the blush on your face as you think briefly about what Natasha’s bedside manner could entail.

“Uh, not at all, it’s very appealing. I mean, not very appealing -”

“You’re cute when you’re flustered,” she says as she leaves the kitchen, leaving you with a bandaid on your finger and a warmth between your thighs.

--

The first thing you notice about the party is how loud it is. It’s Tony’s birthday, so Stark tower has been transformed into a full on party tower. The room is crammed with people, and you take a moment to look around to see if you can find someone you know to attach yourself to. It wasn’t that you disliked parties, you just weren’t the type to spark a conversation with strangers. You can see Thor in the middle of the room, holding a keg as Steve is on the floor chugging from it. Guess even Captain America needs to let loose sometimes.

You bite your lip as you scan the people near you, your eyes zeroing in Natasha. You take the opportunity to watch her briefly from a distance. She looks amazing, a simple black dress that has a slit to the upper thigh that shows a delicious amount of leg when she moves. You haven’t spoken since she called you cute, and the more you thought about it, the more confused you were. While cute was a compliment, you weren’t sure if she meant it in a puppy kind of way. Sexy wasn’t the first thing you thought about yourself, but you kind of wish that she had picked a better word. Maybe you were just imagining tension that wasn’t there because you hoped it was there.

You exhale any nervousness and plaster a smile on your face as you walk towards her. She raises an eyebrow in greeting and you wave at her, immediately regretting it.

“Hi,” you greet and she smiles a little.

“You look nice,” she says, her eyes roaming over your body. Okay, maybe you weren’t imagining things.

You blush, your face feeling warm as you mutter a quiet thanks. “It has pockets,” you respond lamely, putting your hands in them and pulling the dress out, like she needs to be shown what pockets were.

“Drink?” Natasha asks, cocking her head towards the bar. You shake your head. “You don’t drink?”

“I do, just not here. I don’t want to make an idiot of myself in front of my boss,” you answer. You don’t have a problem with alcohol per se, you just never know when to call it quits. And while drunk you is fun, you really want to make a good impression.

Natasha nods in understanding but walks off towards the bar anyway, and you stand there for a second confused before following.

“Two virgin daiquiris,” you hear her say as you get to her. You can see the bartender pull a face at the request, but it quickly disappears when he sees who’s ordering.

“Coming up,” he mumbles, his eyes glued to anywhere but Natasha as he moves with haste.

“I think you scared him,” you comment and Natasha smiles a little, a smug smile that shouldn’t be so sexy, but it really is.

“I get that a lot,” she replies and you hum in acknowledgement. “Do I scare you?”

The question takes you aback and you ponder a moment before answering. “Do you want me to be scared of you?”

“Answer the question,” she says, a little firm in her tone.

“No. No you don’t scare me.”

She purses her lips. “I think you might be one of the only ones not scared of me.”

“Is that a bad thing?” you ask and she closes her eyes for a second, sighing.

“Fear is a very powerful thing. I like the way it feels,” she says, and you don’t think you’ve ever seen her look so vulnerable.

“There are other powerful emotions other than fear,” you reply. You aren’t sure how to respond to her, serious conversation was not your strong suit.

“Like?”

“Lust. Love. Anger.”

There’s a beat of silence between you as you look at each other, your eyes reading over her unreadable face, nothing on her features to give away what she's thinking.

“So you aren’t scared of me. What emotion do you feel?” Natasha asks, causing you to splutter as you take a sip of you drink and you’re suddenly wishing your drink had alcohol in it.

“Out of the three I just gave?” you ask and she nods. “Uh well, I hadn’t um really thought about it.”

It’s stupid of you, to lie to a literal spy and you know for a fact she know’s you’re lying.

“That’s not true,” she replies and you take a sideways glance at her. “You think I haven’t noticed you looking at me?”

Your heartbeat quickens and you start to stammer an apology. “I - “

“I know, because I’ve been looking at you too.”

“Wait what?” you ask incredulously. “Are you sure there’s no booze in this drink?”

Natasha laughs and you smile at the sight of her. “Very sure. You’re very cute, did you know that?”

“I did not, but now I do. I’ll be honest, this doesn’t happen to me a lot, so I’m not really sure what to say or do.”

She slides closer to you, a smirk on her face as she leans close, her breath warm on your cheek. “Well there’s a bathroom over there.”

It takes a minute for you to register what she means, and you can see her wait patiently as you look at the bathroom door across the room and then back at her. The blood is rushing in your ears as you grab her hand and pull her across the room, adrenaline pumping through your veins.

The bathroom is luckily empty when you both enter, and your hands don’t leave hers as you push her into the stall furthest away from the door. You open your mouth to speak but it’s interrupted as she surges forward, her lips on yours. She tastes like strawberries with a slight hint of booze, and you wonder how many drinks she’s had before you arrived. You find yourself not really caring as her hands move to your neck, yours follow down to her hips, your fingertips ghosting her back.

You’ve kissed before, but this is different, like fireworks and gunpowder in a small room; every nerve in your body alight with hot, searing fire. You switch her round so her back is against the door, your hands roaming ever inch of her body, tight muscle beneath your fingertips. Part of you wants to take your time, explore every part of her, but the greedy part of your brain wins out and it’s not long before you’ve got one hand moving in between her thighs.

Your mouth is on her neck, licking and sucking at the hollow of her collarbone, a small moan falling from her lips and you want to hear that sound again and again. She opens her legs and you cup her above her panties before going underneath them, your fingers moving past soft curls and into the warm, wetness of her pussy.

You curl your fingers up, and she gasps, her breath hot and fast against your skin. You move them inside her, pumping in and out slowly as her hand grips at your hip. It feels powerful; to have the great Black Widow fucking herself on your fingers in an act of desperation.

“Please,” she whispers as you continue to slowly move.

“Please what?” you ask, stopping completely causing a small whine to escape her lips.

“Please fuck me,” Natasha replies, rolling her hips against your fingers.

“Okay,” you say simply. You press a kiss to her cheek before sinking to your knees. A brief thought about gross bathroom floors crosses your mind, but you push it away as her hand strokes your hair. She takes the hint and pulls her dress up around her hips. Your hands move up her thighs, nudging them apart so you can pull down the lacy underwear she wears; shoving them into your bag. Pressing kisses up her thigh, her breath hitches as your mouth ghosts against her clit. She sighs as your tongue swipes at her once before moving in to circle at her clit with your tongue.

She moans, a low, quiet moan that ends quickly as you both hear the bathroom door open, the chatter of two women filling the once silent room. You look up at her, raising an eyebrow in question. Natasha looks down at you, a slight flush on her cheeks as she nods. You place a finger to your lips, before moving back between her thighs. She tastes sweet, sweeter than you imagined, but there’s something there, a slight tang that makes your tongue tingle. Of course she would taste fucking perfect; everything about her is perfect, and you can’t stop yourself from tasting her more and more, drinking her in.

Your fingers join your mouth and she’s warm as she clenches with every movement inside her. She’s jutting her hips against your mouth, and you can feel your wrist start to cramp as you fuck her roughly, but you know she’s close, the grip in your hair getting harder. It’s starting to get uncomfortable, your knees are starting to hurt, but you want to make her come undone, to fall apart.

You hook her leg over your shoulder to get deeper, never stopping the pace as you fuck her. Her body begins to shudder, and you look up to see her shove a fist in her mouth at the exact moment the toilet next to you flushes. A moan escapes her but neither of you seem to care as she rides the wave of her orgasm. Her chest has a sheen of sweat, and you want to run your tongue over it, taste the salt of her skin. But that’s for another time.

Natasha looks down at you as she tries to catch her breath, and you get to your feet ungracefully, wincing as your knees twinge. There’s uncertainty in your stomach as you look at her. What does this mean, does it mean anything to her? You had just made her cum in a bathroom stall, but maybe that was normal. It wasn’t to you, but normality was subjective.

“This party’s kind of boring, do you want to get something to eat?” Natasha asks, breaking you from your inner turmoil. You blink at her as your brain registers what she’s saying. The once uncertain voice in your head is screaming at you to say yes.

“Sure,” you reply simply.

“Cool,” she says, nodding, her face still slightly flushed. If you didn’t know any better, you’d say she felt a little awkward.

“I’m not getting those panties back am I?” she asks as you walk towards the bathroom door and head back into the party.

“Nope,” you say, patting your bag for good measure. “Besides, you might not need them.”

--

[elius-learns-to-write]

Have You Been Drinking?

 Hi twonk (love you really) <3 Thanks for the request even though it took a dark turn oops <3 If you don’t like drinking then don’t read this!

Summary: You got a little bit tipsy at a party and pay the price when 

You had always been a bit defiant 

It hadn’t started out as much: Staying up late, stealing leftovers and then it went to going out for hours without texting anyone 

You always said you forgot (which most of the time you did)

5 Missed calls. 12 Texts and Happy literally tracking you down and taking you back to the tower. This is what you got back to after your, how long had it been ? Seven hours?! No it couldn't have been that long, last time you checked you were 87% sure that it had been lunch time, the sun had been shining and you even got talking to this sweet old lady who was interested in birds. So how did it end up being seven hours later in the tower with a very very angry Tony and Steve as the others just listened in not so subtly at the door? “This is the 4th time you have done this this week and still you use the ‘my phone died’ excuse, what am I meant to do with you” Steve sighed, pinching the bridge of his nose as his other hand waved animatedly around in front of him “you aren’t meant to do anything, I lost track of time I promise! It’s not like I do this on purpose” you tried to reason, tears starting to threaten to spill, why couldn't they just understand that you hadn’t meant to be out late and that it was an accident “nope that’s not the right answer kiddo better luck next time” Tony said a hint of frustration seeping through his usual sarcastic demeanor. With that the men left, closing the door to your room behind them.

But there are only so many times a kid can hear ‘you’re wrong and I’m not listening’ from family who mean well but don’t exactly have the best way of showing it before they burst

If they wanted you to play the part of rebellious but strong and powerful soldier then that was exactly what you would do

So you started to go out with MJ and Peter to the occasional party they got invited to 

Then it felt like you were 3rd wheeling so you decided to just go by yourself

You started to swear more 

Put your feet on desks in boots/shoes you knew would make a mark

And that was when the concern started to shine through more than the anger

“Look we are just trying to help you sweetie” Wanda said as she stirred the sauce and the pasta together in preparation for dinner, looking back as you leant back in the chair the black from your hoodie a stark contrast to the white of the marble table. “Well don’t I’m fine I promise, just leave it alone alright I have already heard this 10 times from Sam and Bucky today” you mumbled eyes searching for somewhere to land that wasn’t her face as that was something you did when you were uncomfortable however she mistook that for you rolling your eyes and just muttered something about disrespect as you got up and walked off.

“So Wanda told me you rolled your eyes at her today” the comment sounded so nonchalant rolling off the metal armed mans lips that if you weren’t paying attention you would have missed the fact it was about something negative. “I didn’t but I know you won’t believe me so I’m not going to argue” you replied, the bag splitting slightly from the sudden increase of force in your punches. “I am not saying I don’t believe you! I am just saying that if you did you need to cut that out right now before you do it to the wrong person” he defended. This was ridiculous! Grabbing your towel from the side of the room before you started to walk out “I DIDN’T DO IT!” you called back over your shoulder, only just capturing the look of disappointment on Bucky’s face. If you would have looked harder you would have seen the look of concern that followed but it was too late and the glass door had already slammed behind you.

It was always the same you defending yourself and no one believing you 

You were just an angry teen after all

An angry, misunderstood and hurting teen

There was one person still on your side, Loki

But he wasn’t around much

But as if by magic that came in green swirls and bitter earl gray tea 

He was there that night

The world seemed to sway below you, the constant spinning a reminder of the alcohol you had consumed earlier that night. You didn’t care, in fact you didn’t care about anything right now. The light buzz and soon to be hangover keep you from anh logical thoughts and feelings. Which is probably why you ended up bumping into the table right down the hall from your room and knocking over the horrific looking lamp that Wanda had decorated with seashells (not that it made it look much better). “Who’s there?” you heard from behind you, too drunk to really reply to Nat you made a sort of grumbling noise and carried on walking to your room “Y/n? Is that you? Have you been drinking?” Bruce had joined the quest to find out who the mystery intruder was and even in your drunken lamp destroying zombie gurgling state you knew it was best to just sit down on the floor and wait until the whole team joined in. And soon enough they had a circle of people now surrounding you as you just sat and looked at the ceiling dreaming of being anywhere but here. “What in the nine realms is going on here?!” you heard Loki’s voice say, everything sounded as if you were underwater or in a bubble, you just wanted to sleep. A few minutes later you heard Loki start to argue, ranting and raving about something it was too dark to see what his face looked like but you could imagine the emerald green robe and matching checkered  trousers he would be wearing as his face contorted in shapes filled with rage and hurt. You couldn’t quite make out all of what he was saying but you did manage to catch a few bits “they are a child and it is your duty to protect them…. They don’t need lectures or discipline… just listen to them and pull yourself together” it was that or he was very passionate about chickens.

And so that’s what happened 

Sorrys were said,bonds and trust was rebuilt 

And everyone had a picture of Loki looking ridiculous in his dressing gown 

Let’s just say the hangover you had the next day put you off of drink for a while

[charcubed]

hey char, mind to share your fave stevebucky headcanons? 👀

Oh I LOVE that you asked me this :’)  Thank you!

I honestly have so many if I really think about it because I love them so much and I think about their dynamic so much that I have so many favorite things... but here is what I think of off the top of my head:

• Steve was color blind before the serum, according to canon. I have a headcanon that Bucky used to try to describe colors to him. I wrote a mini fic about that here.

• Bucky was drafted for the war, but didn’t tell Steve. Steve sort of assumed that Bucky enlisted, and Bucky never wanted to correct him. How could he? Steve wanted to enlist so badly, and Bucky didn’t ever feel like he could admit that he didn’t have the same drive to want to ~fight for the country~ like Steve did. He didn’t want to disappoint him and he was afraid Steve would think he was a coward. So Bucky just... never told him that he was forced into war. It was never his choice to fight for the country. If it was up to him, they would’ve stayed home together and stayed safe and never fought at all.

• They were always physically rough with each other, in the sense that they'd wrestle as boys all the time, and Steve loved that Bucky never treated him as fragile. Buck knew he could take it. Even after the serum, they'd still scuffle a bit like kids, finding a bright spot in a war-torn world. They’d be awake in the trenches on lookout, having soft conversations in the night, and shoving each other after one says something stupid or makes a bad joke.

• Steve is bi, and Bucky is gay. Bucky was consciously aware of his feelings for Steve way, way before Steve was aware of his for Bucky. In the 30s, Bucky has a bit of a reputation for ~dating around,~ but not in a rude ladies’ man kind of way but rather his reputation is “Bucky Barnes is a real charmer. He’ll show you a good time and he’s really sweet, but he never pushes your boundaries.” Some women wishes he’d push their boundaries, but he doesn’t. He’s taken so many women out on dates because he never lets it get super serious, since they’re not who he wants and it’s mostly for appearances’ sake, especially since he and Steve live together. He definitely enjoys hanging out with women, and treating them nice, but most of the time his motivation is to try to set up double dates–half because Steve deserves to find a great girl to date, and half because a double date means Bucky can selfishly do a date activity “with” Steve and not have it mean anything. Meanwhile though, Steve gets jealous as hell and testy about Bucky dating all the time, but he’s oblivious to the fact that it’s because Steve wishes Bucky would be with him instead.

• Their first kiss was when Steve was 16 and Bucky was 17. I’m not necessarily saying that’s when they actually got together, but something significant happened between them at those ages... maybe they kissed because they were drunk, or it was so Steve’s “first kiss” would be someone he knew and it was for “practice.” And then they both never talked about it again, because they’re idiots and were afraid to ~ruin things~ between each other. That’s why Steve says “Rumlow said ‘Bucky’ and all of a sudden I was a 16-year-old kid again, in Brooklyn.” That’s why “seventeen” is one of Bucky’s trigger words as the Winter Soldier. It checks out, because Bucky is a little bit older than Steve.

• Steve doesn’t fully admit the depth of his own feelings for Bucky to himself until he finds out Bucky’s been captured by HYDRA. And then he tears Europe apart to get him back. He’d have done that anyway, obviously, but... the prospect of losing Bucky forever is really what makes him realize how much he can’t handle that concept. Because he’s in love with him.

• After Bucky “dies,” Steve gets more reckless, and that’s part of the reason he put the plane in the ice and didn’t try to survive: he didn’t want to live in a world without Bucky in it. This is supported by canon. And so I headcanon that, after Steve finds out about the Winter Soldier, one day he abruptly realizes that he could’ve died in that plane crash and never known Bucky was alive and brainwashed and suffering. He thought Bucky was dead and he wanted to follow him, and he could’ve left Bucky even more alone in the world without knowing it. When Steve realizes how close he came to leaving Bucky behind like that, he throws up. It horrifies him to think about it.

• They each have a pair of dog tags where one says “Steve Rogers” and one says “Bucky Barnes.” They swapped one tag each, so that they’d have a matching set, because while they couldn’t list each other as “next of kin,” they wanted tangible evidence that would show other people how important they are to each other. So people would know: tell him if something happens to me.

• Their Brooklyn accents come out / get heavier around each other, especially if they’re bitching about things or arguing.

• Bucky is a complete sci-fi and fantasy nerd–which is now confirmed canon, and I love it. In particular, I like to headcanon that he loves to read paperback sci-fi novels, and discount romance novels. He unironically enjoys them, and he leaves them allllll over the place. One of the things they love to do is Bucky will sit around and read while Steve will sit around and draw/paint, and half the time Steve gets distracted sketching Bucky’s facial expression he makes while he’s reading.

• Bucky is also a pop culture gremlin. He will try and often get interested in pretty much anything and everything, without rhyme or reason. In modern day, he and Nat will watch trashy reality TV together–sometimes to make fun of it, sometimes to get invested. Steve thinks they’re insane for that. And sometimes Bucky will like one niche thing but then for very specific reasons he dislikes another similar thing. It makes sense to him, even if Steve doesn’t get it.

• Steve tends to be pickier with the kind of stuff he enjoys. He’s always had Strong Opinions™️ on everything, including and especially art. Put him in a museum and he’ll have a lot of thoughts on all of it. He doesn’t judge things or hate on other people for liking things he doesn’t like at all, but he won’t get hooked on a movie/show quite as easily. The one exception is animation, which he absolutely adores, and he goes on a wild binge of all kinds of animated content for awhile–shows and movies–because the various art styles and uses of the medium to tell crazy stories just fascinates him.

• Easy access to so much music is one of their mutual favorite things about the 21st century. Bucky often gets into individual artists’ entire discographies and becomes a fan, whereas Steve often gets into a handful of specific songs from a wide range of various people. Like... Bucky will often love an entire album, and Steve will often love 2 songs specifically more than others. But even with that, Steve loves collecting vinyl records–both old and new ones.

• Bucky has a fantastic singing voice even though he’s shy about it, and he tends to hum along to music when distracted or working on something else–especially while making something in the kitchen. 

• Bucky likes technology more than Steve; Steve likes physical stuff more than Bucky. Bucky loves to take photos and videos of things all the time, hoarding digital memories in a way that’s precious to him, knowing that they’re “safe” and accessible anywhere. They lost so much of the objects that they loved a century ago, and photos were scarce, but now... there are endless ways to have pictures. When Bucky was recovering in Wakanda and Steve was on the run, Bucky would often text Steve photos–sometimes without captions–to wordlessly share bits of his days with him. He’s got a good eye for photography, except for when he takes the photo equivalent of shitposts to make Steve laugh. Regardless, Steve gets his favorites printed–some of Bucky’s photos, some of his, some of their selfies–so they also always have something tangible to hold onto.

• Bucky calls Steve “sweetheart” sometimes, just to be a little shit–and he means it. It makes Steve turn red every time, without fail, but he secretly doesn’t mind it.

Okay I’ll stop hahaha. Those are the main ones that come to mind for me all the time when I think of them! 

Thank you again for asking :D  This was so fun to write all in one place!

[buckys-black-dress]

✄ chapter two: keep it cool like iced tea

a/n: here's chapter two! obvi this is just building the plot and storyline, but we're seeing the beginnings of the magic! anyways, let me shut up so u can read. ok bye!

wc: 2k

[fratboy!bucky barnes x fem!reader]

series masterlist

-

To say you sucked at pong was a vast understatement.

And although you really didn't want to make a fool of yourself in front of this very nice, very tall, very attractive guy, you can't help but feel like an idiot when you sink your first shot into a cup halfway through the game.

You're definitely on your way drunk with the amount of shots Natasha and Sam have scored on you, plus all the ones you've missed.

When Natasha told you to let loose tonight, you're not so sure this is what she meant, though. You see her laughing and giving you eyes from across the table, while your face is bright red. You brush off her looks with a roll of your eyes, darting them back to Bucky.

Bucky.

Bucky with the incredibly nice hands and arms, who seems to be making the shots for the both of you. Bucky who's been occasionally slinging an arm over your shoulders, paying close attention to you. Bucky who's been asking you questions about yourself, that you've returned back, and received witty responses to.

"So, where 're ya from, Y/N?" He asks in a slurred voice, but you can tell he's not exactly drunk yet.

"I'm from New York. You?" You ask, throwing back another drink from a shot that Nat made into your cup.

"No shit! I'm from Brooklyn!" He smiles, a big, bright smile that tugs at your heartstrings for some reason.

"I'm Manhattan born and raised, mister." You return his blinding smile.

"Small world, huh?" He laughs, once again wrapping his arm around you. "Can't believe we've never ran into each other before."

"Well, New York City's quite large, Bucky." You giggle, and he laughs back. As you feel your face warm up, he looks down at you with something akin to adoration in his eyes. Bucky towers over you, deciding that the pong game was over between the four of you.

He walks back to the kitchen, assuming that you'd follow him.

But he turns around to ask you in you'd like something to drink, and you're not there.

You're still chatting with Natasha and Sam, and it takes him a second to realized you wouldn't just follow after him. You didn't really give him the impression of being that type of girl.

Which is what intrigued him more about you. You weren't worshipping the ground he walked on, you didn't initiate conversation too much, and you didn't drool over him like every other girl he's met.

He suddenly feels a surge of awkwardness. He sees you talking animatedly with Sam and Natasha, and now Steve has joined in the conversation. You were talking completely comfortably with them, much more comfortably than you were with him.

It makes him wonder what he'll have to do to get you to get like that with him.

What he'll have to do to make you trust him.

"Hey, Y/N, I was gonna head to the kitchen and grab a drink. Wanna join?" He questions, seeing his friends giving him cocked eyebrows in confusion.

Bucky could usually get any girl he wanted. Especially at a party like this one. Why was he so hell-bent on spending time with you?

"O-Oh! Sure, I'll join you." You excuse yourself from the group, and Bucky slings his arm through your waist to guide you through the crowd. You feel you stomach flip in a way you've never felt before, and feel your cheeks redden.

"So, what can I get you?" Bucky practically yells over the music, trying to meet your eyes. You avert them quickly, and simply tell him a vodka lemonade.

He hands it to you with a strange look in his eyes, and you give him a kind smile while taking your first sip.

"God, you trying to get me wasted here?" You gag with a laugh, looking into your cup and back to Bucky.

"Sorry, doll, might'a gone a bit heavy on the vodka. You still good to drink it?" He queries with genuine concern in his eyes.

And although you already well on your way to drunk, past tipsy, you give fervent nod, and give it another sip.

It was good.

-

As the night had progressed further, you had two more of Bucky's vodka lemonades.

And now, you were drunk.

You also didn't know where Natasha was, but she was probably off somewhere with Sam, so you weren't worried for her safety.

Bucky was still by your side throughout the whole night, offering to dance, and even just sit and talk.

Which is what you were doing right now. In the middle of the crowd, you were practically on top of Bucky while you two talked about anything from academics to your daily lives.

"So, in your major, what would you say was the dumbest thing someone's asked?" He laughs, and he's clearly also past the line of tipsy and has fallen into drunk, right with you.

"Uhhh... oh! One time, this guy-"

"Doll, I can't really hear ya." Bucky laughs

"Oh, sorry," You blush, trying to speak louder, but it still wasn't working.

"Do you- would you be okay with just goin' up to my room? Don't think we'll get much of anythin' done down here." He gives you a look that says 'I'm not gonna hurt you, unless you want me to.'

It sends a shiver down your spine, and you stand up, waiting for him to guide you up the stairs.

You knew you weren't going to have sex with him. You had only met him four hours ago, and no matter how many girls he could pull in that time, you were not interested in being one of them.

"Just so you know now, I'm not planning on sleeping with you." You burst out while you're halfway up the stairs, your eyes going wide at your own words.

"Huh," Bucky chuckles, "I know I have a reputation that precedes me, but I didn't think this is where that was going. Just wanted to continue to conversation." He smiles down at you, finally opening his door.

Of course, Bucky was lying right through his teeth. Of course he wanted to sleep with you. You were nice, smart, had a hell of a body, and had kept his attention the longest out of any girl he's ever met. But when it comes down to it, he was a boy.

And boys usually only thought with one organ; their dicks.

As the lamp flicks on, a small glow filters over the room, giving it a cozy feel. You, on the other hand, felt nothing but cozy.

"You can sit anywhere. Wanna watch somethin'?" He asks, tossing you the remote while you stood, frozen at the doorway.

"I- uh, sure?" You ask, more than you tell him, but sit down on his bed. You were careful to not flash him while you adjusted yourself, not sure of what to do.

The last thing you needed tonight was the most notorious playboy on campus seeing your black lace thong right now.

"Do you wanna change into somethin' more comfortable, angel?" Again, your stomach has butterflies trying to escape at his sweet words. But you knew better than to think too much into it. he probably said these names to every girl who's come into this very bed.

Ew, you think to yourself, this bed must have STDs sewn in the sheets by now.

"I- sure? If you have anything that fits, I guess." You grumble.

"Sure, I've got a t-shirt and boxers, if you want? Don't have much else, honestly." He laughs lightly, handing you the items and points to the bathroom in the corner of his room.

As you're standing in the middle of Bucky Barnes' jack and jill bathroom, you take a moment and think to yourself.

How did I get here?

Will he ask me to sleep here?

Does he still expect anything from me?

I hope not.

I'm really tired.

Ugh. Whatever. I'm too tired to think this much right now.

You pull of your dress that you couldn't stand to be in anymore, and put on the clothes Bucky had provided you with.

They were quite large on you, considering the guy was about the size of bigfoot. But you couldn't find it in yourself to complain about it right now.

You exit the bathroom, setting the dress down on the floor where you had kicked off your heels, and sit back down next to Bucky on his bed.

You feel your skin slide under the blanket that was thrown over him, and focus on the TV screen.

"So, what're we watching?" You query, trying to figure out what was playing.

Little did you know, Bucky was still thinking about the way you had looked when you walked out of the bathroom. It did something to him, seeing you in his clothes like that, for some reason.

The way you were practically swimming in them, and the way you knuckled at your eyes tiredly that made him want to hold you to his chest while you both fell asleep.

He was trying to shake the thoughts from his head, wondering what the hell had gotten into him with these thoughts.

Since when did he, Bucky Barnes, think about a girl like this? It was usually much dirtier and nastier in his head, but you were doing something to him.

"Bucky? Everything alright up there?" You giggle, knocking on his skull lightly.

"I- yeah, all good, doll." He shakes his thoughts away, focusing back on you. "I put on whatever was playing, didn't switch it because I didn't know what you liked." Bucky explains.

"Hm, well this seems good. We can just keep this on?" You suggest, realizing that Home Alone 2 was playing on his TV. "I love this movie. This kid's got some real class." You chuckle, now fully watching the movie.

"He's a genius, I'll give 'im that much." Bucky laughs, also fixing his gaze on the movie.

In the hour that passed, you two have made small talk about the movie here and there, and every time, Bucky's gaze became transfixed on you. With the glow of the TV illuminating your face, with the way you smiled and threw your head back when you laughed, he couldn't help it.

Finally, the movie had come to a close, and Bucky could tell you were fighting sleep. You were practically asleep sitting up against his headboard.

"You wanna spend the night here, doll?" He wonders out loud, looking over to you.

You shoot him a look, a playful glare with a hint of a smile.

"I mean, it's a bit late for me to head back to my dorm. But no funny business, mister." You point a finger at him, and Bucky holds his hands up in the air.

"No funny business, I promise." He holds out his pinky to you, to which you curl yours around, and latch on.

Once the lamp next to his side of the bed is turned off, you slide further down in his bed, trying to find a comfortable position. After a few minutes of adjusting, you snuggle your head into the pillows that smell like laundry detergent and his cologne.

"Goodnight, Bucky," you say out loud into the darkness while you both face each other.

"G'night doll. See ya in the morning." Bucky's voice is a low baritone, clearly about to succumb to the sleep he was fighting.

"See ya in the morning." You reply, finally letting your eyes fall shut.

That night, you dream of Bucky Barnes and his cologne.

And across from you, Bucky Barnes dreams of a world where this is normal. A world where you sleep next to him every night, and you wake him up every morning with a kiss.

Man, I'm totally fucked, is the last thought he has before falling into a sleep surrounded by you.

[ashintheairlikesnow]

A Little Bit Stabbed

Jake Gets Stabbed Miniseries: First Second Third Fourth Fifth Sixth

CW: Discussion of past child abuse/domestic violence, description of stab wound, painkillers/drugged but in a good way, brief IV needle reference, some short references to Jake’s religious trauma, some trauma response stuff

“Took four of us to get you onto the couch, you know,” Kauri says, fingers moving gently to brush Jake’s short hair back off his forehead. There’s a hint of humor to his deep voice, but Jake catches the tremor in it, too. “You’re heavier than you look.”

“Must be… pretty fucking heavy, then,” Jake manages, voice slightly thin. They gave him something - Nat’s EMT friend showed up with IV supplies while refusing to tell anyone where they’d gotten ahold of everything from, except to repeatedly reassure all of them I know someone, it’s taken care of, I probably won’t go to jail for this. Besides, I’ve been in jail before.

Jake might not have found it very reassuring if he wasn’t halfway to unconscious from the pain alone at the time.

Now, though, there’s a needle feeding a steady supply of something wonderful into his bloodstream, holding the worst of the pain at bay. All he can feel now is maybe a little bit of an itch he knows better than to scratch, and a heaviness to his limbs that keeps them limp and relaxed. 

“We had to turn the stupid thing into the pull-out bed just to make sure your feet wouldn’t be higher than your head.” Kauri smiles at him, but there’s worry in those warm blue eyes, and Jake uses every ounce of strength to lift his good hand, the one on the uninjured side, and take Kauri’s, pulling his knuckles to his lips to brush against them. 

“I’m okay,” Jake says softly. “I am, Kaur. It’s not so bad.”

“It’s not-... you got fucking stabbed in your own kitchen, Jake.” Kauri’s lips thin and he looks away, over towards the TV, playing Clue.

Funny, Jake thinks, woozy and untethered to any kind of focus. My mom used to play Clue when we were alone, after. Made her feel better for a while.

“Just a… a flesh wound,” Jake manages in a terrible approximation of a British accent.

Kauri just looks at him, expression serious, and leans over until their foreheads touch. He’s warm, and Jake’s eyes close, basking in the body heat that comes off of him, surrounds them both. “Don’t,” Kauri whispers. “Please don’t make jokes. I thought-”

“It’s okay,” Jake murmurs. 

Eventually, he should probably tell someone he can only sort of feel the hand on the injured side. But not now. 

“It’s okay. It’s not s’bad. I got the good drugs, right?”

“Antibiotics and…” Kauri squints at the label on the bag attached to the IV, then winces and shakes his head. “Sorry. Can’t read today. It, uh. It kind of comes and goes when I’m worried, and today-”

“I get it. But… you don’t have to worry about me, Kaur. It’s over, it happened… I’ll feel better pretty fast. It’s okay.”

“It’s not,” Kauri says softly, but he relaxes beside Jake, keeping a hold of his hand. His fingers are slightly chilled, but they warm against Jake’s. The two of them settle into silence for a while, a woman in black on the TV with eyes blown wide in comic exaggeration of anger speaking in a blur of sound Jake knows by heart but can’t really pick apart from anything else, not just yet, not right now. 

He knows this movie by heart. He and his mom used to curl up under a blanket while she closed her eyes and prayed for things to get better and Jake prayed for his dad to die in a car accident or some other terrible way, and make it slow, and then pray with terror not to go to hell for thinking like that.

If men like his father go to heaven, Jake would rather burn in hell.

At least my favorite bands would be there, he thinks, and laughs to himself, shoulders shaking a little, sending a ripple of pain down his arm and spiking into his skull. He winces, but the thought still strikes him as too funny to quit circling woozily around his mind, and he keeps laughing a little.

Kauri turns to look at him, eyebrows raised. “What are you laughing at?”

Jake blinks over at him, those wide blue eyes. It had been hell not to be able to hold him for so long, with eyes like that. Real hell, the kind where you spend your days wishing for a connection that seems too hard to make. “Nothing, just… thinking about shit with my dad,” He says, finally. “My mom and I used to watch Clue all the time. It’s her favorite movie.”

“Yeah?” Kauri looks over his shoulder, back at the television, and Jake’s eyes move lazily over the slight bump in his nose where it was broken by someone years ago, the dip of his lips, the roundness of his chin, angling a little with age. The way his neck would feel to trace with just one fingertip, how he smiles when Jake does it, asks him what the fuck he’s looking at when there’s way more to Kauri that needs attention right now than just his face.

There’s a lazy wave of warmth in Jake, a steady thrum of something that goes much deeper than arousal, at the memory.

Adoration.

“Yeah,” He says, softly. “She’d put it on when he left the house, we’d make popcorn and watch it. Saturday night special, popcorn and a movie, Mom and Jake.”

“Where’d your dad go?” Kauri asks, then the answer catches up with him, and he winces. “Wait, sorry. I think I know where he went.”

“Church.”

That is clearly not what Kauri expected to hear. “I-... what?” He turns back to Jake, eyebrows furrowing. “I thought-”

“Nope. He went to church. Fish fry on Saturdays, he volunteered.” Jake is dimly aware that this might be more than he’s ever told Kauri about his father, at least more than he’s ever said that wasn’t laser-focused on the hurts, the bruises, the concussion, the ER visits where Jake learned to lie. “He was a magician with a deep fryer. Best fucking fish I ever ate.” He laughs, then coughs a little against the new round of ache in his shoulder. 

Kauri is quiet for a moment, his eyes searching Jake’s face, maybe looking for an idea of how to respond the right way. Jake knows that look - he’s seen it less and less over the years, but it never fully stops.

Kauri never stops looking for the safe answer, the one that won’t get him hurt. Jake never stops being ready to fight his way out if it happens again. Kauri is still ready to say what the abuser needs to hear, placate and please and keep himself alive.

Jake is still ready to pick up a weapon and use it if his father ever comes near he or his mother again. Not that he ever will. Not that he even wants to, sixteen years after Jake last saw his face. 

But he’s still built, deep within, to fight the threat. And so is Kauri, in his own way. 

“I love you so much,” Jake says softly. “I hope you didn’t pull anything dragging my ass around.”

“Mmmn, guess I’ll find out,” Kauri says softly, snuggling back up to him, then. “Should we change the movie? If it’s, like, a thing for you-”

“Nah.” Jake smiles, slightly. He feels pleasantly drunk, on whatever the painkiller slowly drip-feeding into his arm is. A little woozy, a little bit in love with it. “It’s like a comfort thing, really. I should call my mom-”

“I already did,” Kauri says, gently pushing him back down as Jake tries to make himself sit up. “She’s driving up. She said she’ll get here in the morning, she had to find someone to watch her dog.”

Jake blinks twice. “Mom has a dog?”

“I think it’s new. But, um. You can’t exactly meet her at her hotel, Jake. She’s gonna have to come here.”

Jake feels a rush of old nerves prickling along his arms, the hair of his neck trying to stand up. He closes his eyes, tries to push it back down. “I’ve never given her my address. It’s not safe for us. What if-... I don’t know. I’ve just never… I’ve always worried that if he found her, you know, that he’d… convince her to tell him where I live. He’d turn us all in just to feel like the big righteous moral hero all over again. Probably hard to feel that way when you’re hitting a teenager. Easier when you’re turning in vigilantes with stolen property.” He spits the words, and Kauri flinches a little. “Shit. Sorry, Kaur.”

“No, it’s. It’s okay. I get what you mean. But I don’t think your mom would do that. She loves you.”

“She does.” Jake exhales, closes his eyes. Inside him there is still an angry child that wants to point out that it hasn’t always been enough. But there’s a grown man, and a decade of fucking therapy, telling him there’s a whole lot more to it than that. “And she’s finally come around to understanding why I do this. Yeah… yeah, we’ll tell her where I am. It’ll be fine. Honestly, it’s not so bad. Jameson really did a great job on the stabbing.” Jake tries to laugh again. “Fucking surgeon with a butcher knife. He managed to miss every fucking bit of me that would have killed me.”

“Except for if you bled out,” Kauri points out, voice small. 

“Yeah… but I didn’t.” Jake thinks of Antoni’s face, the focus in his dark eyes, the quick movement of his hands, the blinding agony of the cloth being forced into the wound to soak up the blood, the way Antoni had leaned all his weight forwards to put enough pressure to staunch the bleeding. Jake had never felt pain like that before, and he’s not sure he could handle feeling it again. “Ant was there. It’ll be okay. Where is he?”

“In his room.” Picking at the heavy thick blanket laid over Jake, not quite looking at him now, Kauri asks, “How are you so calm about this?”

“Drugs,” Jake answers right away. “Like ninety percent drugs.” He groans as a throbbing ache travels from the stab wound, up into his skull, all the way down to his toes. “Fuck. The… whatever’s in there helps. But also…” Jake sighs, letting his eyes drift to the ceiling, over the popcorn-texture there. He’d meant to scrape it clean and smooth, when he bought the house, but other stuff kept taking priority, and he hadn’t gotten around to it yet. “This isn’t th’ first time, you know?”

Kauri frowns. “Jake, I have licked just about everything on your body, I’ve never seen a scar from-”

“Not… not stabbed. But… stuck here, on a couch-bed, tryin’... tryin’ to heal from shit. That’s not new.” Jake exhales. Above him, the blades of the ceiling fan circle lazily, and his eyes follow the movement of the shadows. 

“No, I guess not.”

“In any case… I haven’t s-seen… Jameson’s upstairs, right? Can you get him down here?”

Something passes over Kauri’s face, a shadow, a discomfort and darkness that Jake can’t quite read. “Jameson’s not in the house, Jake.”

“What? Why?” Jake starts trying to sit up again, and this time Kauri’s gentle push isn’t enough to get him back down. He grinds his teeth against the pain and forces himself upright, trying to shift his legs over the side of the bed. The room spins around him, dizzy-sick flip in his stomach, but he ignores it. He’s felt worse than this and kept moving before. “Shit, fuck, I should’ve made sure he didn’t leave-”

“He didn’t. I made him go.”

The look Jake turns on Kauri is baffled, but there’s anger, too, welling up inside him. “You what?”

“I told him he can’t stay here if he’s a danger to you and the others,” Kauri says, but he cringes back from Jake’s expression, instinctive fear. Jake hates how he looks like his dad - huge and muscular, a threat inherent in his existence that he might not give off if he were smaller. But his bulk and his strength is also the thing that makes him capable of withstanding the danger he puts himself in for them. It’s the reason he could come home and pick Chris up with a broken rib and carry him after they raided the last safehouse he’d lived in. It’s the reason he could finally fight back with his dad. It’s the reason the kids at his new schools, one after another after another as he and his mom moved constantly to try not to be found, left him alone. 

“Kauri, he can’t-... Jameson’s not. He can’t live on his own.”

“That’s a lie,” Kauri says, lips barely moving. “That’s a lie they tell us-”

“No, that’s not what I-... Jameson’s like Chris,” Jake says, softly. “Like Chris used to be. He was treated like an animal, Kauri. He didn’t get to use fucking utensils to eat in the last two places he was held, he told me himself. He can’t live on his own yet. If you kicked him out… Jesus Christ, Kauri, do you not remember how it felt when you were kicked out?”

Kauri looks like he’s been slapped. “Wait, Jake-... I didn’t mean-”

“We found you half-dead under a goddamn bush, Kauri, you can’t do that to someone else just because I got a little bit stabbed! Shit. Fuck. I gave him a burner phone, if he’s still got it on him, maybe I can call-”

“Jakob fucking Stanton!” Kauri yells so rarely, and Jake goes still, turning to look at him, seeing the anger written across Kauri’s face. Kauri angry is electric, and immensely sexy, and something Jake had gone so long thinking he would never see unless Vincent Shield showed up with a new idea for how to make up for all his failures by forcing himself around someone who hated him. “Will you fucking listen to me?!”

Jake just sits there, staring at him. He can’t even find the words. Eventually, he just nods.

“I didn’t kick him out on the street, I’m not that awful, and fuck you for thinking I am and we’re going to talk about that later when you aren’t half off your head from painkillers. I don’t want him here until you’re feeling better in case it happens again, so I-... so I sent him home with Nat. She doesn’t have anyone living with her right now, and she said okay, so he’s going to stay with her.” Kauri swallows, reaching slowly out to lay his hand on Jake’s leg. “He and I talked. He said it’s always been men, Jake. All of the ones who hurt him were men, one of them was... was really big like you, I guess. So I thought-... if he’s with Nat, maybe it won’t happen again for long enough for him to, to work it through in therapy and Dr. Berger maybe can give him, give him s-something to help. So maybe he won’t, um, hallucinate or… or w-whatever the next time.” Kauri’s eyes well up, glimmer with tears that don’t fall. “I was trying to help. I thought he’d feel safer with only a woman, maybe, and I sent him alone so that he’d know he can’t hurt Allyn, he was really scared of that, and…”

Jake’s mouth hangs open.

Kauri slumps over, his forehead slowly resting against Jake’s back where he sits slightly behind him now that Jake is nearly off the bed. “I had to make sure everyone’s safe. I didn’t know what else to do. I sent Chris to stay with Laken overnight but he’ll be back tomorrow, Antoni’s fucked up but he’s in his room and he’s safe, and all the rescues promised to stay in their rooms and Allyn tried to go with Jameson and I think they hate me now because I said no, but I didn’t-... I tried to think of what you would do, if it had been Chris or me he’d hurt. I was trying to be like you. I’m s-sorry if I fucked it up, I’m sorry, please, I thought you were going to die, please don’t be mad at me-”

“Kauri.” Jake turns, and uses his good hand to lift Kauri’s chin, meeting his eyes. 

Blue on blue, always. 

“I’m not mad,” He says, gently. “Not… not now. You’re right, I shouldn’t have… just been a shit deciding what you did without asking. I’m sorry. So, let me just… you spent the last couple of hours really fucking busy, huh?”

Kauri nods, kissing Jake’s fingertips, one by one. “I’m sorry,” He whispers. “I’m not… I’m not good at this, I’m not... not... I was so scared. I didn’t know what you would do, Jake, and Nat said she thought it was a good idea, so-”

“It is. It is a good idea.” Kauri blinks, surprised, and the tears that have been threatening finally run, clear as crystal, down his flushed cheeks. He looks like a fucking sculpture, Jake thinks to himself, like some artist’s idea of the perfect beautiful person. “Kauri, just. Now that I get what you were trying to do… Shit. That’s really smart.”

Kauri huffs a laugh, a kind of half-sobbing sound, and shakes his head. “It’s just, I was just guessing-”

“That’s all we ever do, too,” Jake says, voice soft. “We guess, at what we can do to help. Nat always says we make the hard choices when nobody else can. Kauri, that’s the smartest fucking idea. I’m… that’s some grace under fire shit. That’s amazing.”

“It… it is?”

“Yeah.” Jake kisses him, and Kauri tastes like mouthwash, like mint, kisses back with desperate intensity. “Yeah, Kaur. That’s even better than what I would have done. You’re so fucking smart. What made you decide to slum it with me?”

“You have a really good d-dick and I don’t w-w-want to lose access,” Kauri says, and he’s crying or laughing or maybe both. “You’re my eye candy.”

“You’re my Einstein.”

“Fuck you.”

“Fuck me yourself,” Jake says softly. 

“Heal a little first.” Kauri sighs, half-smiling, pulling Jake back into the bed to lay down again. “Everyone’s safe, Jake. At least for now. Everyone’s okay. You need to rest, and everyone’s going to be okay.”

Jake lets his head be maneuvered back onto the pillow, feels Kauri settle back down next to him, pulling the blankets back up over them both. He’s silent for a while, lets the soft sound of the end of the movie wash over him, showing the different endings.

“I love you,” He whispers. The way the adrenaline is fading makes him sleepy, drifting in a new drowsy haze, ready to dose off again. “So much.”

“Love you, too,” Kauri murmurs. 

He knows this - the couch-bed pulled out, watching movies and stand-up comedy at a low volume, a throb of pain somewhere that will heal only with time - by heart.

With Kauri’s weight and warmth beside him, it feels entirely, completely new.

-

@astrobly @burtlederp @finder-of-rings @whump-tr0pes @raigash @moose-teeth @orchidscript @doveotions @pretty-face-breaker @eatyourdamnpears @boxboysandotherwhump @whumptywhumpdump @whumpfigure @outofangband @downriver914 @justabitofwhump @thehopelessopus @butwhatifyouwrite @yet-another-heathen @nonsensical-whump @newandfiguringitout @gonna-feel-that-tomorrow @oops-its-whump @cubeswhump @whumpiary @endless-whump