#alcohol consumption

[mylevisdontfitanymore]

Thinking about Steve getting so big and round that he can rest on his belly like it’s a giant beanbag and he’s alone without Bucky so he starts to belly fuck himself and is just whining and moaning and panting being very verbal while feeling himself jiggle

Asdfghjkl 🥵🥵🥵

Oh.

Warning for unbeta'd stucky belly kink ahead, including impossible/unrealistic levels of belly fat, belly humping, immobility, etc.

A stuttered, high moan bursts desperately out of Steve’s heaving chest as he squirms on top of his impossibly big gut. The sensation is otherworldly. It doesn’t feel real even though it’s so fucking visceral. It’s all he can feel. He can only feel his own fat. Fat. Fat. Fat. Huge. He’s lost in it, lost in his own fucking fat. Steve’s grown so huge. Fattened and then overfattened recklessly. Ungodly round and swollen.

Steve lets his head hang down toward his overgrown middle and chest, pecs turned to moobs to just breasts, they’re so big and fat. All of him is. And he’s out of breath, panting and gasping, just from bucking his hips down frantically, barely doing any work at all, just trying to get any sort of friction to his blubber-buried dick. He hasn’t seen his dick in so fucking long, he hasn’t had Bucky’s hand or mouth or anything of Bucky’s around his dick is so long. His dick might as well be gone at this point, all of his normal sexual pleasure replaced by the pure pleasure of consumption - eating like a madman, eating so much that his belly stretches and he moans and cries, swearing he’s going to burst at the seams, straining around all this food and drink packed and stuffed into his body. It’s how he’d like to go, though, if he has to, he’s going to ride the wave of utter unrestrained gluttony like a true pig. Steve shivers just thinking about it - oh, oh, fuck yes. His gut stretched, new marks etching themselves into his thick flesh, his stomach churning and gurgling, his skin flushed red with how big he’s made himself, his body glistening with sweat, and creaking. There’s not enough room. There’s never enough room for everything he wants inside him. Delicious, decadent food.

Steve’s thinking about stuffing himself now, while he fucks his own fat. He’s reached an entirely new plane of greed and gluttony that he can’t be stopped. He’s the size of a boulder, his belly the shape of one, and he’s going to be stopped just about as easily as a boulder rolling down the side of a mountain. Jesus, he’s greedy. He’s fat. Huge. He’s moaning, crazed with the sensation of what he’s become.

The only thing Steve has to work with to get out his throbbing, pulsing arousal is the taut, huge surface of his belly. Nothing else. He’s so big. He can’t reach anything but so of his gut. Even his belly is too big for him to reach all of it. Steve whimpers. All he can feel his the sweaty, hot sensation of his own overfattened flesh. Thick and heavy, wobbling and jiggling underneath him. All over him. He’s massive. He almost can’t breathe, his stomach is so filled and so hard and pressing into him, trying and failing to find any more room to expand into.

Still, having trouble breathing or not, with every lazy thrust of his hips, pleasure sparks inside Steve. It feels so good. Fucking his own fat. So. good. But he needs more. Still. Steve always needs more. More food, more pleasure, and more complete hedonism.

Really writhing now, not just squirming, Steve’s toes curl until the soles of his feet ache like the sizes of his absolutely massive belly do, trying to stretch around all those calories, exponentially swelling him more. More. Steve whimpers unstoppably through a burp. There’s gas inside him rolling and bubbling in his stretched stomach and intestines from the damn keg of beer Bucky poured into him (trying, in vain, to placate and satisfy the monster of Steve’s appetite that they’ve built together) before he left to work on the monumental task of gathering, buying, and then hauling all the groceries they (mostly just Steve) need at home. So, now, Steve’s gargantuan stomach is carbonated. The feeling of bubbles in him is too much. He keeps belching and moaning, the bloat, the pressure mounting inside him. He’s gonna explode. All the humping and wiggling isn’t helping, he’s making more bubbles inside himself. Pressure. More pressure, tricking his body into thinking he’s fuller and leaving him panting even harder. He’s so fat. He can’t believe it.

Actually, he can believe it. He lives in his own head with the constant onslaught of thoughts that demand moremoremoremoremore. That’s how he got so giant. More. That’s how he grew this massive, round gut that holds his body off the ground like he’s laid out on a big, plush beanbag.

More.

Lavish.

Soft.

Big.

Steve just can’t fucking help himself. He’s so gluttonous and he doesn’t want to stop. Never.

Waves of his own wobbling fat take Steve beyond reason, almost beyond pleasure. It’s fucking good. So good that he can’t comprehend what he’s become. A true, immobile beached whale. His feet can’t touch the ground, they haven’t been able to touch the ground in ages. Ages and ages that have only been filled with food and drink - filled like Steve is filled. Overfilled. Unbearably filled with literally anything that Bucky wants to shove down his throat, from greasy pizzas to rich pastas to creamy desserts to malty beer and thick milkshakes.

More.

Steve licks his lips, whining. He just keeps fantasizing about food while he humps and fucks his gut. Jiggling. Wobbling. Bloating. Slowly… slowly… slowly growing fatter, stuffed with food, and always reaching new heights. Every day that goes by he’s the fattest he’s ever been and also the smallest he’ll be from now on.

God.

Another burp makes its way out of Steve, he intends to moan, squeezing his arms and legs into the blubbery sides of his belly - what he can reach of the sides of his belly underneath him - but he can’t control whether or not he moans or burps. He can’t control himself. What’s the difference anyway at this point? Indulgence is pleasure, pleasure is indulgence; food is sex, sex is food. There is no difference. All he knows is the pure sensation of unending fat underneath him. His body. So big. He can’t comprehend how fucking huge he is and it makes him so fucking horny.

#mylevisdontfitanymore #ask #belly kink #text #stuffing #weight gain #bucky barnes #steve rogers #stucky #chubby steve #fat steve #immobility #alcohol consumption #intox kink

[asgardianhobbit98]

Four for Valentine: Week 2 "The Letter"

Fandom: The Hobbit

Pairing: Thorin Oakenshield / Reader

Characters: Dwalin, Thorin, Gender Neutral Reader

Important Tags: written from Dwalin's POV, romance, angst, death, alcohol consumption, grief, love, redemption, healing

Words: 1146

Summary: When Dwalin attempts to heal his grief after the Battle of Five Armies, his finds himself not just grieving Thorin but also his sibling. But in the depth of night, ghosts come to life, and Dwalin finds that the letters are more healing than he originally thought. (I really meant for this to be fluffy but then my brain made it bittersweet instead because apparently angst is all I can manage today)

Written for my "Four for Valentine" event 🩷

My dearest y/n.

They are calling it the Battle of Five Armies: a Historic event, it seems. I certainly won’t be forgetting it. And I will make damned sure no Dwarf ever forgets it either. Just like I am making sure that no Dwarf ever forgets Smaug’s taking of the Lonely Mountain. Two points of important Dwarven history… and two moments in my life I would rather forget than remember. But it is crucial I don’t forget. If people remember it feels like people also remember you. Both of you.

My brother said writing down feelings is better than cutting down Orc filth. I still disagree. But I can’t deny that it helped me greatly when I lost you. It will certainly help me greatly now that I have lost him.

I loved you. You were my sibling, how could I not? But even if you had not been my family, I think the two of us would have gotten along well. You were funny in a way I didn’t really get, but which others seemed to find endearing. Thorin certainly found it endearing. More than he dared admit.

You see, I found a letter of his in his belongings. I didn’t mean to rummage through his things. It fell out when I was moving it. So don’t come yelling at me from the rocks now! And I only read it because it was addressed to you.

I hadn’t read your name in so very long. Maybe it was the already present grief, but I suddenly grieved you once more. I had to. Because when I read his letter to you, I saw the life you could have had if I had just been quicker in getting to you. That damned dragon!

He is dead now. Smaug. Revenge didn’t taste as sweet as I thought.

You would have had a life with Thorin. I know it. Because he wrote so. He loved you. Dwarves only love once. He was more devastated than he admitted to any of us. I knew he slipped away from us for a long time after the fall of Erebor. I knew he grew quiet. Distant. I never in a million years thought it was because of you too. I thought his family, his people… And here I was grieving you in front of him, burdening him with my own shite.

Yet, he never once said a word. He simply supported me.

He loved you.

You could have been his. He could have been yours.

Maybe this is for the better after all. If you had been here, you would have had to grieve him. The loss of Thorin is one I do not know how to handle.

I wish you were here to help me.

Perhaps the two of you are there in the afterlife, living among the rocks of Erebor, reunited at last.

Stupid.

Dwalin put the pen down and crumpled the letter in his hands with a little more force than necessary. He threw it aside where he watched it land among all the other attempts. Alone in a room in Erebor, finally home, Dwalin thought he might find some solace in a successful quest. But everything felt wrong.

With a sigh, he moved over to his bed and simply… drank himself to sleep, like he usually did. It helped with the nightmares, it helped with the grief, and it put him right to sleep. It was a win win, really.

Balin hated watching him do it, but Balin wasn’t around at the moment. He was on his way to Moria to continue furthering their people’s wealth; to try and retake the mountain. Meanwhile, Dwalin was still stuck in the past, in his grief… doing nothing with his life… or so he thought, at least.

…

As the darkness engulfed him, a restless sleep devouring Dwalin, he found that the alcohol actually did very little to help him. Rather than steering him onto a path of just dark, dreamless sleep, Dwalin found himself suddenly standing in his room.

Actually, that wasn’t the best description on where Dwalin found himself. He was in his room, yes, but he was sort of… standing by his bed, watching himself sleep.

It was a weird position to be in, and for a long time, Dwalin did nothing but stare at himself.

Had he died?

Was this the afterlife?

But no, he was breathing… Snoring, actually. It was a rather pitiful sight.

There was a strange humming in the background. As if someone was singing, but it wasn’t one person. It was a vibration so loud it sounded like a thousand people humming. It was peaceful, almost recognizable. As if Dwalin had always heard it in the background whilst walking in the mountain, or out and about.

But he couldn’t quite figure out what it was.

The humming was interrupted by a little shuffle in the room behind him. He turned, finding it rather difficult and slow to do so, and watched…

You.

And Thorin.

Both of you looked ten times better than you’d ever done alive, warm peaceful looks on your faces at all times. The two of you were picking up Dwalin’s attempts at writing a letter to you, reading them with your heads held together, arms locked in a loving touch…

“Y/N?” Dwalin asked, staring at his sibling with pure… shock. And Thorin, his king… “Thorin?”

Both of you looked up at him. But it was you who answered Dwalin: “I like your letters. They make me happy.”

Dwalin must have looked quite dumb as he simply stared in shock, because suddenly you began to chuckle. That chuckle… He’d missed it.

“My dear Dwalin,” Thorin said, “you look as if you’ve seen a ghost.” Both of you chuckled a bit at this.

“You both are…”

“Dead,” you finished for him. “Yes, quite. But that doesn’t mean we’ve left you.”

Thorin nodded along. “We’re always with you. In the rocks that make up your home. In your memories. And we’ll be waiting. Until you’re ready.”

You smiled. Thorin smiled.

…

And far too soon did that ‘dream’ end because suddenly Dwalin woke up with a start in his bed, looking around the room, searching…

He pushed away the bottle of alcohol. His heart lighter, and went back over to the crumpled up drafts of a letter.

Okay… he thought to himself… I’ll keep writing if it makes you two so damn happy.

Chuckling for the first time in a long, long time, he wrote at least twenty long letters in the candlelight, telling the both of you everything that he wanted to. Because he missed you both, and he loved you. And if you two really did read his letters, then he was going to keep at it until he was sure you both knew just how much you meant to him.

tag list: @fizzyxcustard @middleearthpixie @glassgulls @evenstaredits @knittastically @heilith @lathalea @way-too-addicted-to-fandoms @nowandthane if you'd like to be added or removed from my tag list, please let me know!

reblog and comment = love and support 🥰

#the hobbit #dwalin #thorin oakenshield #thorin x reader #gender neutral reader #richard armitage #four for valentine #my writing #my tolkien writing #angst #grief #alcohol consumption #healing #love

[hauntedbystorytelling]

Man Ray (1890-1976) ~ Suicide (Kiki de Montparnasse), 1928. Gelatin silver contact print | src Christie’s auction 19833 03/2021

View on WordPress

#kiki de montparnasse #Man Ray #suicide #neck bent backwards #lace underwear #man ray #Emmanuel Radnitzky #portrait #Porträt #retrato #ritratto #portret #retrat #Bildnis #1920s #shattered bottle #surrealist artist #alcohol consumption

[freshiegayboi]

All the Sanses playing "never had I ever" and it getting steamy. Except Blue has drunk every single time for anything they could think of. Everyone has a conniption.

you. you get it /lh

went with the ever fun Blue and the Bad Sans Poly for this, just to keep it funky lol enjoy!!

(this one gets a little nsfw, so its under the cut for talk about kinks and suggestive stuff. please do not read if you are under 18!!)

~.~

Laughter filled the castle, and had been for a couple hours. The longer the drinks were brought out, the louder the gleeful sounds got, until Nightmare finally cut them off. Water only, but as a consolation he permitted them to play a few group games, without his supervision.

He knew they were less likely to try anything violent with how drunk they'd all gotten, but he was also fairly likely to come back to something less than innocent if he didn't give them something else to do.

It was Horror that had recommended Never Have I Ever, a simple game that while usually had alcoholic drinks accompanying it, was easily supplemented with weird sodas. Blue had agreed easily; surely it couldn't get too bad.

Now armed with ranch, bacon, bubblegum and other various flavored sodas, they started in almost immediately on the most hardcore things they could think of.

"Never have I ever kissed someone until they couldn't breathe!" Killer said, smirking as both Horror and Cross blinked, then took a drink, grimacing at the taste of synthetic bacon. All of them did a double take, however, when Blue also took a drink. He didn't seem to notice them all staring at him until he glanced up from his phone, his sockets widening.

"What?"

Killer shook himself out of his shock, waving a hand. "You're just a lot more kinky than we thought, Baby Blue, that's all! Your turn Dusty~"

Dust gave him a look, then signed a quick "Never have I ever spanked anyone."

This time Killer took a drink, gagging at the horrendous taste of fake bubblegum, as well as Cross. But they all stared as, once again, Blue took a drink with them.

"...Blue?" Horror asked, Blue startling as he realized they were all staring at him again with something only definable as total shock.

"What? I like impact play!"

Horror blinked, but shrugged. "Alright. My turn, I guess. Never have I ever... Used a knife on somebody."

Killer raised a brow, Horror huffing a laugh as he supplemented a "Sexually."

Dust took a drink. Killer took a drink. Blue took a drink.

And once again, they all stared. Blue stared back, perplexed through the state of being drunk off his ass, and finally said...

"...I've literally done all these things with you guys."

And well. There was truth to that, wasn't there?

#fresh writes #undertale #sanscest #blue and the bsp #bad sans poly #suggestive themes #alcohol consumption #let me know if i should tag anything else

[n0cturna1-m3]

Hi, can you do a Jason Todd x male reader spending Christmas or thanksgiving together?

Like Jason obviously feels like he can't have a good Christmas dinner with the whole Batfamily without a yelling match. He only really stays in contact on a daily basis is with reader, because their joined at the hip during missions/ cases.

So Jason is fine just have Christmas alone in his apartment but, reader has different plans. Using his spare key to Jason's apartment letting himself in, holding a couple of beer bottles and take out.

The rest of the night they just spend talking and eating, enjoying eachothers company. Then reader falls asleep leaning on Jason, letting him feel so loved without pushing any of his boundaries.

If you end up doing this request, I'd really appreciate it. I know a lot of people ( including me) don't see Christmas has a happy, joyous, holiday. So I feel like this could be comforting to some of us.

Could you share a link when you do?

Holidays Are Subpar | Jason Todd x Male Reader Fluff

Warnings; Alcohol consumption, marijuana use, perhaps a smidge of sexual tension but it's not really there

A/N; I'm sorry this is short i'm having writers block 😭

900 words 💔

Jason scraped the edges of the ice cream tub and spooned the last amount of it into his mouth as he watched the screen of his TV, wrapped up in a blanket and hunched over in his bed. He hated Christmas. It always caused problems with his family, so he tended to spend it alone rather than in company. Especially during holidays.

The Matrix lit up his studio apartment dimly, the blueish tint from the dark atmosphere of the scenes casting dark shadows along the walls. He jerked his head at the sound of his front door being unlocked, setting his pint of ice cream on the side table before reaching under his bed and fishing out a gun from underneath his mattress.

“What the fuck are you doing here?” He grumbled, clicking the safety lock on his gun and placing it on the nightstand. He grabbed the remote and paused the movie, glaring at Y/N in the process. He was holding a grocery bag, setting it on the counter and pulling out a pack of beer.

“What do you think?” He snarked, slipping off his shoes and tossing them by the door before grabbing the pack and walking over to Jason's bed, proceeding to flop beside him. “I couldn’t let you wallow on Christmas eve.”

Jason huffed at him. Y/N pulled a can off and offered it to him, the latter taking it and cracking it open. Y/N did the same, clinking their cans before taking a big sip.

“What were you watching?” He asked, scooting back to seat himself next to Jason, making himself comfortable amongst the pillows.

“Matrix,” He stated, taking the remote and pressing the resume button. Y/N hummed in excitement as it started, albeit halfway through.

After a few minutes, Y/N made an ‘ah’ sound and dug through his pockets, fishing out a small container. He opened it and pulled out a joint, showing it to Jason who nodded in approval. He grinned and placed it in his mouth.

“Gimme a light?”

“Sure.” Jason leaned over to his nightstand and opened the drawer, fishing through it and grabbing a lighter. Y/N turned his head to him and leaned in while Jason fiddled with the shitty bic before it sparked to life. He lit the end while Y/N held it tightly between his lips, shoving it in his hoodie pocket once it was burning. Jason watched him take a long drag before handing it to him, but his eyes stayed glued to his lips as he exhaled the smoke.

Turning his gaze back to the screen, Jason took a hit and then sipped on his beer, breathing out from his nose and passing it back to Y/N.

This continued for a few minutes, puffing and passing while they worked on the beers in front of them and ash collected in one of the crumpled cans that acted as a makeshift ashtray. When the joint became nothing but a stub, Jason snuffed it out and gathered the garbage, consisting of three beer cans, and stood up.

“No, where are you going?” Y/N asked, pouting at him.

“Throwing these away, and I’m gonna grab some snacks,” Jason responded and Y/N hummed in acknowledgement before turning back to the TV, Jason walked to the small kitchen throwing the trash into the bin Y/N sprawled over the place where Jason had been sitting, lazily watching the movie while acutely aware of the shuffling across the room. Jason nudged him over, a bag of chips in his hands. Y/N grinned up at him but didn’t move.

“Oh, come on,” He grumbled, shoving Y/N’s head.

“What? You left, this is fair game,” He explained. Jason stared at him and pinched his ear, pulling on it. “Ow, ow! Okay, I’m getting up, I’m getting- I’M GETTING UP!” Y/N whined, swatting at Jason’s hand as he tried to sit up. Jason snickered at him and crawled up next to him, sitting down and glancing at Y/N, who was rubbing his ear and muttering to himself about how ‘mean’ Jason is.

“It’s your fault, really,” Jason said as he opened the bag of chips and put one into his mouth. Y/N dug into the bag as obnoxiously as he possibly could and pulled out one singular chip. “Are you going to be like this all night?”

“Probably not,” Y/N said between chews. Jason gagged at the sound.

“Stop- eating with your mouth full,” He scolded. Y/N glanced at him and smiled, shovelling chips into his mouth before speaking again.

“What, like this?”

“You’re so annoying.”

Y/N smiled and chewed slowly, smacking his lips.

“I’m going to hit you,” Jason warned. Y/N took a long drink of his beer and smiled at Jason, eyes hazy and reddish. “Don’t look at me like that.”

“You’re always so mean to me,” Y/N whined, draping himself over Jason’s side.

“Uh-huh,” He mumbled, popping another chip into his mouth with his eyes glued to the screen. Y/N wrapped his arms around Jason’s chest, resting his head on his chest. Jason wrapped his arm around him and continued eating, scooting forward slightly so he could lean back and give Y/N a more comfortable position to nap in.

#jason todd x male reader #jason todd x reader #x reader #x male reader #dc x male reader #dc x reader #alcohol consumption #marijuana use #red hood x reader #red hood x male reader

[ask-team-misfit]

[ in reference to this ]

He'd be staring at the punch bowl when he overheard Reshi's announcement.

He was convinced he'd seen enough. His heart was set on taking anything he can and booking it. Maybe leave behind a surprise "gift", or several.

But he wasn't gonna do that without knowing which of these foodstuffs had meat, and which didn't. Thus lead to him becoming distracted by what he smelled from the punch bowl, staring into it until now.

Lief: "Truth or dare, eh?"

He turned his attention back to the bowl of wine, pondering over whether or not he should stay. His antennae twitched, taking in the aroma of the liquid.

The scent made him think of the cider back home he wanted to try once, were it not for Eve yelling for him to go away; just that instead of apples, it smelled quite a bit more like grepa berries.

He'd assume this was some kind of juice, but it only vaguely smelled like such. Very vaguely, the more he thought about it.

The curiosity got the better of him. He picked up the ladle to do so, directly drinking from it.

For a drink that only vaguely smelled like fruit, the taste completely took him by surprise. He nearly shuddered from the intense flavor upon swallowing.

Lief: "Ugh... that was not juice. Note to self."

He turned away, initially. But then he dipped the ladle back in to take another, slower sip.

Lief: "It's so fruity... and so bitter. But it's not bad. I think..."

Perhaps he really was just thirsty. Or perhaps he didn't hate the taste as much as he figured. Or perhaps he inadvertantly awakened a part of him that would like drinking it a little too much.

Because he went on to drink more. And more.

And more.

Stopping only to hiccup from how quickly he was gulping it down.

Lief: "Gods. Really hope no one saw that..."

He wasn't sure when it happened or how, but he now felt a lot more relaxed. If any parts of his fur looked frazzled or still stood on end, it didn't anymore.

He swore he also felt a little woozy, but he waved it off as being exhausted still.

Lief: "But you know what? Maybe this place is alright. I can salvage this. Totally..."

[ Lief is now accepting Truth or Dare asks. Also he's somewhat drunk. ]

#// truth or dare but you're just a little bit drunk... :3 #LoUTruthnDare #LoUsleepover #Lief Simbobeon #pokemon #pokemon ask blog #pokeask #pokeask blog #pokeaskblog #pokemon ask #pokemon askblog #ask blog #alcohol consumption #alcoholism

[uncertainwallflower]

The past is dead, Tomorrow is not born. Be today!

— P.G. Wodehouse, Carry on, Jeeves

BETWEEN THE DESIRE AND THE SPASM Chapter 9: Alas!

A tapping at the kitchen window drew her attention and she left the thought uncategorised, venturing out of the bathroom to find Dorcas tending a small fudge-coloured owl. “It’s for you,” she said, holding a neat square of parchment out towards Lily. “Who’s it from?” shot Marlene. Two flaps of its wings and the owl was gone. Dorcas shut the window behind it. “Dunno.” Lily turned it over in her hands. “Oh.” “‘Oh’?” What’s ‘oh’? Who is ‘oh’?” “No one. It’s nothing.” She took her glass from the kitchen counter and emptied it in one bitter mouthful. “It’s definitely someone—”

AO3

#new chapter #BTDATS #between the desire and the spasm #uncertainwallflower #post breakup #alcohol consumption #lily evans #marlene mckinnon #dorcas meadowes #james potter #modern au #pg wodehouse

[mylevisdontfitanymore]

Do you ever imagine Steve burping helplessly and Bucky getting turned on in a public place?

This isn’t public public but something that I have been thinking a lot about recently is car rides and how an especially rough ride might jostle burps out of someone while also forcing them to hold their sensitive, overfull tummy, groaning with complaints as the car rumbles and shakes. Then, as all this is going on, there’s also nothing they can do about it because they need to get home. In fact, before they got in the car and started getting jostled around, they really wanted to get home, they were so excited to get home so they could lie down and sleep off all the excess food and/or drinks they stuffed into themselves. So they're just trapped burping and being shaken up like a can of soda, about to pop. And that’s what I’m going with here! I hope you enjoy it!

Unbeta'd stucky belly kink under the cut. Warnings for alcohol consumption (but Steve can't get drunk because we're talking about serumed Steve, so it's not really intox? yanno?), burping, bloating, button pops, etc.

Steve and Bucky have just spent their evening at the latest fancy, excessively formal gala where they’re playing politics. Shaking hands with the government officials they pretend to listen to when it comes to how to save the world, living up to their roles as superheroes who are definitely not vigilantes and certainly operate under the law, yes, sir. Really actually gritting their teeth against boredom while making polite conversation. They’re doing it for the sake of the other Avengers and so they’re not deemed as enemies of the state… again.

So, once it’s over and they’re free to go home, both Steve and Bucky breathe a sigh of relief upon getting back to their car. It’s all over, well into the night or, actually, the next day. It’s morning now. Early, early morning. But. It’s over with. Thank God.

Steve, however, sighs especially loudly, fidgeting with his tie and instantly undoing the knot the moment he drops his ass into the passenger seat, shutting his door with a little too much force.

“That bad?” Bucky smirks, teasing him but not looking over from the driver’s seat at him because he’s too busy sticking the keys in the ignition and starting the car, flicking on the ventilation system and fiddling with the radio, turning it on low for some background noise.

“You have no idea,” Steve snarks back tiredly, falling farther into his seat as he buckles up with a click.

Amused, Bucky looks over at his best guy now that the car is idling, warming up, there’s something in his voice that catches his attention - he swears if anyone said something stupid to his Steve, they’re gonna pay for it - and

Oh.

After he blinks and takes a moment to process what he’s seeing, Bucky feels his own eyes widen comically when his gaze lands on the way Steve’s gut is suddenly bulging out from his body. The breath gets caught in his throat. His stomach. Woah. It’s… it’s a thing. It’s big. Suddenly, straining the limits of his choking formal attire. His neatly pressed black suit jacket and white dress shirt underneath with the tails of his black tie falling to either side of the hill rising from the middle of his body.

“What the fuck?” Bucky murmurs involuntarily, staring at his best guy and trying to make sense of what he’s seeing. His belly is so pressed outwardly and distended that Bucky can’t see the shiny leather belt that he knows is holding up his slacks. He’s… huge.

With eyes on him, Steve stretches like a cat, arching his back like his belly actually fucking fighting to escape the formal wear and seat belt that he’s wrapped haphazardly around it. His suit looks painted on, so unbelievably tight; his seat belt is curving underneath his belly’s sudden weight and curled over the top of it, emphasizing its heft.

“C’monnn,” Steve whines, high-pitched, breaking his Captain America facade that he uses for these types of events and returning to the punk he really is, “get us out of here already.” He turns his head to the side, his blue eyes glassy.

Automatically, Bucky puts the car in gear and does as he says - he’d do anything for that stupid punk - but, at the same time, he can’t stop shooting glances over to the passenger seat where Steve’s resting, reclining, fully exhausted, in his seat. He sighs heavily again, this time it’s in relief from unbuttoning his suit jacket. Bucky catches an eyeful of it, his dick jumping, trained like a dog to a whistle but the whistle is Steve taking off his clothes. And… if possible… his belly swells outwards another inch. Maybe more.

“Jesus, Stevie,” they come to a stop at a sign, just leaving the parking garage, and Bucky uses the moment to reach over and touch his belly. Just making sure it’s real and he’s not seeing things. Patting him down. Under his palm, it’s very real. Very tight and very real, making a ripe, solid thump sound with each pat-pat he makes.

The collision has Steve stifling an airy belch behind a loosely curled fist, “c-careful, Buck,” he warns.

“Or what, you’ll pop?” Bucky’s teasing but also… he could. He might. Just look at him, nearly bursting out of his clothes. On a goddamn normal day, Bucky can’t deal with Mr. Steve I-Like-Tight-T-Shirts-That-Show-Off-Every-Inch-Of-My-Hot-Bod Rogers. So how is he supposed to deal with Steve when he’s dressed to the nines in formal wear and they’ve just had to deal with a fucking room full of stuffy politicians that frustrate him to the point of wanting to rip out his hair or punch a wall or fuck someone hard? (Preferably the last option, and preferably Steve).

He looks - Bucky licks his lips which are suddenly dry - almost pregnant. Ready to pop alright. Bucky shivers as he shifts gears.

Steve lazily chuckles at him, breathless, explaining his situation away by flapping a hand passively, “everyone wanted to have a toast to or a toast with Captain America,” Bucky nods, trying to listen and barely succeeding, “and you know how it is, I can’t turn anything down when I’m wearing the stars and stripes, it looks bad.” Steve shifts in his seat as Bucky hits the gas, the softest groan falling out of his loose, full lips already driving Bucky insane even before he admits, “so I have no idea how many flukes of champagne I drank.”

As they continue to cruise, Bucky keeps looking over at him, stealing glances, trying but failing to keep his eyes on the road. He’s trying to process the thought of Steve getting fucking wasted in this new century. Sloshed. Hitting glass after glass, bottle after bottle, until he’s flushing pink, and getting stumbly and tipsy and touchy like he used to before the serum when he was the lightest lightweight. Always snuggling up to Bucky, all over him, curling up in his lap like a cat after they went out drinking back in the day, kissing him and clinging to him, begging him with slurred words and dangerously mischievous eyes to fuck him rough and hard. Yanno how I like it, c’moooon, Buck, do meee, Bucky can still hear his drunk voice.

“Christ,” Bucky finally spits out some fucking words, his brain practically smoking, “it’s a good thing you can’t get drunk then, pal.”

“Yeah,” Steve’s breathing is labored as he tries to get comfortable, wiggling around in his seat, pulling at his now open collar and the seat belt cutting into him, “still can get full, though-”

“Yeah,” Bucky agrees too quickly, too eager.

“And bloated,” Steve hisses out the tiniest of burps, leaning completely back into the leather seat, flopping back, his hands limp at his sides, “I’m sooo bloated.”

Bucky swallows thickly, “you look it… looks like you’re smuggling a watermelon under that suit.” Bucky’s flesh and blood hand aches with how hard he’s gripping the steering wheel, he’d be worried about breaking it if all his attention weren’t split between making sure he’s not about to crash and Steve.

“Thanks, asshole,” Steve laughs gently, the sweet sound ending in a gasp as he feels the alcohol in his belly swirl, the finger food he ate swimming in it, there’s so much.

“Just look at yourself, baby-” Bucky can’t resist pushing further, teasing and in awe at the same time. That’s what he and Steve do, though, they give each other shit. It’s a love language.

“Mmmmm-hm,” Steve lazily glances down, moving slower with just how overfull he is.

“You were sucking that thing in?” Bucky risks taking one hand off the wheel to reach over and smack his gut. Lightly. But, still, it’s enough to jostle a bigger burp out of Steve. He can’t believe how tight Steve’s belly is. He can’t believe how big Steve’s belly is. It’s making it hard to think. “That whole time? Your poor abs!”

“Uh-huh,” his big chest heaves as he tries to breathe deeply but can’t find the room in his body to fully expand his lungs, his stomach is too big, stretched, taking up all the extra room in his body and more, “Jesus, yeah,” he agrees, “my abs hurt, they’re so stretched-”

Bucky licks his lips, why does that sound so good? To him, and evidently to Steve with his tone of voice… it’s gone all breathy and soft like it does when he likes something. Turned on and weak for whatever it is, unable to put up a fight.

“-But it feels good to let it out, too.”

Christ.

Tease much, Rogers? Bucky wants to bite back.

But instead, Bucky can’t be bothered to be ashamed of himself when he answers, “it looks good, too.” Fucking sue him. He’s attracted to Steve all the time. Constantly. How would this be different? Why wouldn’t he want him like this? Even more of him. He can’t believe how hard that dress shirt is straining to keep his swollen gut covered. There are diamond gaps of exposed pale flesh between every button. It’s as if his belly is dying to get out and swell bigger, needing more space to get larger. And he’s… he’s interested in seeing it get bigger. If Steve can stomach it (ha), at least. He doesn’t want to actually pop Steve. He just wants to push his limits. See how much he can take.

Steve huffs, shaking his head affectionately like he can’t believe it. But he blushes bright pink, a sheepish grin tugging at his lips. He’s on the same page, just shier about it, “thanks, pal,” he murmurs, ducking his head, “you know how to make a guy feel special.”

Bucky snorts, “sure thing,” they stop at a red light and Bucky indulges himself, finding one of the gaps between his buttons to put two fingertips against his bare skin. Investigating the new landscape of Steve’s mountainous gut. It feels like he has a fever despite being unable to get sick these days, and when Bucky presses his fingers in, just to feel how much give there is in that tight belly -

“Oof,” Steve groans, “be carefu-uuuurpp,” there’s nothing Steve can do to stop the burp that comes barreling out of him.

“Be careful?” Bucky smirks, laughing a little, more breathless than anything, though, he had no idea that a stomach could do that. Could be so tight. He’s felt up Steve’s rock-hard abs plenty. Often, even. But… this is different and it’s exciting. “Or what? What’re you gonna do if I’m not? It seems like you’re having a hard time over there, bud.”

A car drives up behind them, appearing out of the empty night and honking, forcing Bucky’s eyes back onto the road. Ah, the light’s green, it probably has been for a while, too. So, he drives on.

Steve is about to respond, giving him shit right back, he’s sure, when the car hits a sudden pothole, jostling them both. But, poor Steve, it hits him worse. Not just startling him. The pothole is on the passenger side, to begin with, and Steve’s more affected by it anyway with his bloated belly. Despite how tight it is, packed to the brim with carbonated liquid, the dip in the road leaves it bouncing, jiggling, and sloshing violently as the car shakes. Bucky has never so deeply paid attention to the suspension because fuck. The impact seems to send a shockwave through Steve’s whole body, causing him to emit a loud, reckless belch that actually echoes in the tight confines of the car. The last of it turns into a groan as Steve curls his hands protectively around his belly like he can stop it from sloshing around. Meanwhile, Bucky could fucking thank the god-awful Nazis right now for gifting him with super hearing, forgiving all the other torture they put him through, just because he can hear the way the champagne bubbles trapped inside him fizz, tickling his insides almost… pleasurably if the blush spreading over Steve’s face and down his neck is anything to go by.

They’re both breathing harder now.

Not even a minute later after the first cacophonous, obscene accidental moment, Bucky turns onto another road, taking them home on autopilot, leaving NYC and heading towards Brooklyn. On the other road, right after the gut-churning too-fast turn, there’s another polehole, this one worse. Worse not because it’s bigger but because Bucky knows what’s going to happen. He sees it ahead of them and his brain is still processing what just happened, how seeing Steve jiggle and wobble made him feel involuntarily forcing him to picture the way Steve’s ass and tits move when he rides him, the way he groans when his dick bottoms out inside of him, stuffed full, and -

Bucky doesn’t even try to avoid the pothole, he just stares at Steve out of the corner of his eye, white-knuckling the steering wheel.

Steve’s swollen midsection heaves with another burp. Fuck. Bucky might be crazy, he might be seeing things, but his formal shirt, the buttons!, God, they’re almost straining more than they were before.

This time, his burps mix more with his groans and moans of discomfort.

Bucky’s head is spinning.

He feels like he needs to ask, “you alright?” But it’s more excitement than concern racing through him. This is… something about this is hot. Boiling even.

Letting the back of his head hit the headrest, hands supporting the underside of his belly, Steve swallows. Then, he nods weakly, cheeks flushed, “yeah,” he coughs to half-hide another burp, “‘m just gassy.”

Bucky’s gaze lingers on the mesmerizing sight before him, unable to tear himself away. The roughness of the road seems unending, who the fuck is in charge of New York streets anyway? They’re doing an awful job!, every jiggle and slosh of Steve’s belly sends shivers down Bucky’s spine. It makes Bucky’s face hot and tingly, stealing glimpses of his bloat as he takes them home.

Bigger and bigger and bigger.

He’s just filling up more with each shake-up of the contents of his stomach. Gas building. Bubbling.

Reflexively, with each belch and moan that escapes Steve’s lips, Bucky gets more and more aroused. His dick feels as hard as Steve’s belly looks. The tension in the car thickens. Steve tries to apologize for being so noisy and gassy, embarrassed, the manners he was taught holding him back, but Bucky won’t have it. Hastily, he reaches over with his hand not on the steering wheel to massage the roundest, most bulged-out part of his belly, saying, “you gotta let it out, baby, it’s okay. I want you to. Don’t hold back” He digs his fingers in just enough to cause another belch from Steve - a whimper right after - and they both squirm in their seats. “That’s it,” Bucky pats his tummy, encouraging him.

It seems impossible. He’s so full of champagne, so round. And all the sweet, fizzy alcohol is just getting more and more carbonated, more sparkling, more bubbly, more sloshy inside him with every jolt and shake of the car. Despite how much he’s burping, letting some of the gas escape, he just keeps swelling. Little by little, his belly inflates farther, expanding like a balloon. A balloon attached to a helium tank. Bucky is exhilarated by it, and judging by how Steve’s uncomfortable groans have pitched up into sounds that are more like moans of relief chasing each belch… Bucky isn’t the only one.

There’s something so hot about watching him blow up. Inflate. Expand. Swell.

The tension in the air follows Steve’s strained dress shirt, at first, it’s well-fitting, then a little bit tight, then tighter, tighter, until it’s creaking at the seams, ready to burst. The tension is so thick, it could be cut with a knife. Ready to snap. The buttons are threatening to pop off at any moment. All that gas… all the sloshing. The pressure is mounting. Every pothole, speedbump, black-tar snake, and accidental hit curb is a sweet torment for Steve, making him burp and cry out more which in turn torments Bucky. Both of them are wracked with anticipation, crawling with the need to touch each other.

The next time Bucky can take a hand off the steering wheel again and reach out to thump Steve’s swollen gut, Steve lets out a low, guttural moan, his body jerking into the sensation. But at that same risked moment, they hit the deepest, biggest pothole yet and -

Pop!

The first one is so loud and unexpected that it makes both of them jump in their seats, Bucky slams on the break which doesn’t help Steve’s precarious situation.

Pop!

The second one makes Steve whimper, trembling in his seat under the sloshing liquid inside him, swirling around, leaving him aching, the seat belt digging into him harder, feeling as though it’s cutting him in half.

POP!

The third one has Bucky swearing because fuck. Fuck! That’s so fucking hot. Steve is so big, so swollen that the buttons on his shirt, stretched over Steve’s belly have popped right off, flying forward and hitting the dash or the windshield. His shirt is no longer able to contain the bulging dome of his gut. It’s too much to handle, it’s expanded too far for the once perfectly fitted formal attire to hold on.

With each button that bursts free, a pleasurable relief in its own right, Steve’s pale, round, so fucking round, gut spills out into the heated, thick air. No longer held back by his clothes. The audible slosh of Steve’s champagne-and-gas-filled belly swelling suddenly, violently into his lap between the white halves of his now-ruined dress shirt is mouth-watering. With every stuttered breath Steve takes, stunned by arousal and shock, his gut seems to pulse with his overindulgence. Bucky can hear his heart racing and he knows Steve can feel it in his expanded stomach. All that taut, smooth, blushing skin exposed.

Oh, God.

Steve lets out his loudest moan so far, reckless with it. His hands had been braced on the center console and door handle respectively, hanging on as he was sloshed and jiggled. His hands fly up, grabbing his gut now that he isn’t so precariously balanced on the edge, feeling ready to burst with the pressure mounting inside him, forcing burps to come out of his mouth whether he wanted them to or not.

“Oh. Ohhh,” he can’t stop saying it, as if he’s shocked by what’s happening to him and he is, probably just as much as Bucky is. Somehow his flesh is still so taut. The pressure has alleviated some, but not much. He still feels like a fucking balloon.

Swollen.

Bloated.

Spherical.

Shaking, the blond caresses the surface of his shiny stomach. The heat of his belly pressing down against his thighs, in his lap, sends waves of pleasure through his whole body. He may not be so tightly compressed but the burps keep coming, released between his desperate gasps for breath, “ah, urrrp, oh, ooh, auurp, fuck me. Buurp. Guh. Uhhn. I feel so full!” He whines, “I’m so gassy, and, urrrrrp, God, so round.”

Bucky is amazed that he’s still fucking driving because he isn’t fucking functioning. Watching Steve touch himself, rubbing the dome that is his tight middle and daring to try and sink his fingers into his swollen body for relief from the pressure, Jesus Christ, it’s enough to kill him where 70 years of brainwashing didn’t.

Fuck Steve Rogers.

“Ah, oh, ohhh,” Steve’s voice trembles, “I can’t - URP - believe it. Look at me,” he begs Bucky, turning his head to the side to pout at him.

Fuck Steve Rogers.

“‘M so big! Buck! I’m so big! I didn’t know-oh, I could stretch so much. It aches,” he whimpers, “‘m so stretched! Buurp.”

Bucky stops in the middle of the road. He doesn’t give a shit anymore. It’s nighttime. There’s no one driving behind him anymore. There are other lanes. Anyone who does drive up behind him can fuck off. They can go around - they can go to hell. He needs to get his hands on that gut. Now.

Steve writhes as much as he can under the mass of his gut sitting on top of him when Bucky lunges toward him, “look at me!” he whimpers again, happy under his attention, “it, it… it fills my, my whole lap. Urrrrp, ugh, God, ‘m so bloated!”

His stomach feels so tight that Bucky can’t believe it. He can’t imagine what the pressure must feel like for Steve. The fullness. It has to be unbearable. Like being fucked full of cock but so, so much more. Hell, just looking at him is raw and pleasurable in a way that it shouldn’t be, so he can’t imagine what it’s like for Steve. There’s nothing erotic about this yet everything about it is insanely erotic… how he can’t stop making noises, uncontrolled burping. Sloshing. Belching. Fizzing. The way he’s squirming. The way he’s begging Bucky to help him, relieve the pressure, touch him, massage him, anything!

“Buck, I’m… I’m so full,” he whimpers.

“I know, Stevie,” he growls, his voice low and husky, practically already fogging up their windows he’s burning so hot for this, “but, Christ, babydoll, you look incredible.” He does. His gut is throbbing, red, and shining under the street lights. Bucky can’t stop touching his belly, massaging it worshipfully. Thumping it to hear how much his body sounds like a drum. “We should keep you like this,” he’s already salivating at the thought, his hips jerking forward to grind into nothing but thin air. He wants him so bad when he’s like this, stuffed full, exposed, and incapacitated by the sloshing weight in his big, sexy belly.

“Unnngh,” Steve whines, nodding, “it, it feels so good,” he pants, “urrrp, aarrp, ‘m so fuckin’ full, Buck.”

“You’re like a balloon,” Bucky whispers, leaning over awkwardly in the car to say the words into his mouth, kissing him desperately, “so tight you’re about to pop.”

Steve’s eyes flutter shut, shivering, “keep, keep touching me, I need-” he cuts himself off, burping right in Bucky’s face with a flare of embarrassment so strong it makes him squeak. Mortified.

Bucky won’t have it, though. He bites Steve’s lower lip hungrily and digs them deeper into the debauchery, “I bet we can find a liquor store that’s still open, you wanna see if we can get a few more bottles into this tanker?” Then, he slaps his gut to make him convulse, curling around his pulsing, throbbing, aching belly.

Steve can’t take it, moaning, “yes! Yes, Buck! Please! I wanna be bigger. Fill me up until I can’t take any-ah-ahh, URP, any more!”

(Why does staring at an overflowing bottle make me horny? What even is this fetish 😂)

#ask #mylevisdontfitanymore #belly kink #text #steve rogers #bucky barnes #stucky #chubby steve #bloating #alcohol consumption #burping

[painsandconfusion]

Wrong Place, Wrong Time

Prompts and starters A collaboration with @wormwriting

[Prompt Masterpost]

“How much did you hear?”

Whumpee crouched and trying to stay quiet until they can slip away. Then the cool barrel of a gun pressing against the back of their head. Bonus for ~click~

“You know what happens now, right?”

Whumpee stumbling home, breath ragged and body in shock still. They stare at the liquor bottle - and without thinking, uncap it and start downing as much fire as they can stand. They don’t want to remember what they just saw. For everyone’s sake. 

Whumper shoving a bottle against Whumpee’s chest. “You’re going to want to forget that. I’ll check back in tomorrow to make sure you did.” 

Walked into the wrong bar at the wrong time - now they’re a vampire’s lunch.

“Don’t look at me like that. You’re the one who fucked up everything. Now I need to clean up your mess.”

The shaky hand Whumpee presses to their mouth to try to stifle their echoing breaths. Eyes squeezed shut so hard that they might press the memory of what they saw out of their mind.

“How’s about you and me go for a little walk, hm?”

“Sorry kid - boss said no loose ends.”

Whumpee stepping around the corner to see people and blood and heads slowly turning toward them. Seeing them seeing what just happened. Seeing the blood. Seeing them seeing the blood. Whumpee slooooooowwwwwly steps back, eyes stricken with horror-

“Can’t talk without a tongue, right?”

Whumpee driving in the middle of nowhere - how were they supposed to know it would be fifty miles to the nearest gas station? At least they can cal-......they don’t have signal either…

Whumpee flinching at each echoing footstep, tucking further back into their hiding spot. “I know you’re theeeeerrreeeee~ Come out come ouuuut~”

“You know this isn’t personal, right?”

And escaped whumpee bumping into Whumper completely randomly years later. The  s t a r e. Aaaaaaand run-

“What are you so scared for? I don’t gotta kill you~”

“Wh-y me?” “You were the easiest to grab.”

Stepping into a bear trap. 

Whumpee getting mistaken for a target. Tortured in their place while pleading all the while that they got the wrong mark. Of course, no one believes them.

“Know what you are? A liability.”

The random guy the villain shoots in a bar just to make a point. 

“Don’t. Move.”

[Prompt Masterpost]

(tags: @prisonerwhump @whumpawink @mabledonut @happy-little-sadist @paleassprince @distinctlywhumpthing @wibbly-wobbly-whump @batfacedliar-yetagain @suspicious-whumping-egg @wormwriting @villainsvictim @throwawaywhumper @wild-selenite-caffine @whumpasaurus101 @thecitythatdoesntsleep @whumpworld @pinkieglitterheart @whumpberry-cookie @rainbows-and-whumperflies @a-galactic-fox @shywhumpauthor @cyberneticwhump @bumpwhump @hold-back-on-the-comfort @veyroswin @whumping-seven-days-a-week @whumpingisfun @suffering-and-misery @definitely-not-a-seagull-i-swear @yetanotheraltwhumpblog @whump-queen @a-whumped-tea @whumpsday @sonder35)

As always, lmk if you want to be added or removed from any tag lists!

(a few of these arent working so if wibbly-wobbly-whump or hold-back-on-the-comfort changed their blogs please lmk <3

#whump #promp list #whump prompt list #collaboration #kidnapping #gun #knife #forced drinking #alcohol consumption #wrong place wrong time #incidental whumpee #murder mention #blood #mouth gore threat #threat #fear #angst #multiple whumpers #wrong whumpee

[oddsconvert]

Sleeping Beauty

@the-whumpers-soiree (I LOVE this prompt so much, I had to write something! 🥺)

CW: Noncon drugging, Noncon touch, Whumper becomes Whumpee, Whumper taking Whumper, Mistaken Identity, Kidnapping, Alcohol Consumption, Creepy/Intimate whumper.

-

“I bet all the good ones have been nabbed…”, Whumper grumbled to themself, swerving in and out of the sea of cackling party-goers, a faux smile flashing at other hunters trying their luck this evening, before swigging on their glass of champagne. Peeping over the tip of their glass at the helpless little things dotted around the room, so naive and utterly vulnerable. Waving their blue glow stick shackles about, unaware the little fishies were reeling in the sharks.

So much choice…spoilt for choice, in fact.

The atmosphere was electric; the penthouse floor buzzed from the bass of the music, though not too loud to drown out the mumbling chitter-chatter from the guests. Roars of laughter erupting and drinks flowing. It was growing increasingly difficult to scour and pick out a singular target, with the hustle and bustle of the gathering - crowds swarming around prey whilst peacefully fighting to claim them for their own.

Whumper knew they should have arrived earlier; to get first pick of the bunch, dragging their new toy out whilst the night was still young, and prying eyes were few. Now it appeared the clock was ticking impossibly fast, stealing away the precious opportunity. Idly watching from afar as guests, paired blue and red vanished around corners, or striding hand in hand towards the exit…jealousy scaling over Whumper. 

But that’s when they noticed them. Peaking Whumper’s interest, out on the balcony all alone in the chilling evening breeze, basking in the moonlight. Glaring off into the distance in awe at the city night, off towards the skyline, eyes dazzled by the twinkling lights littered on towering skyscrapers. Their hair bouncing along with the ferocious wind whilst their small hands nervously twisted and fumbled with the glow stick clasped around their wrist.

A blue glow stick. Bingo.

Whumpee is oblivious to the balcony door whooshing open, does not hear it slamming shut. Cautious footsteps trek behind them, drawing in closer by the second. Whumper softly trails their finger down the spine of Whumpee’s back, tracing the crook and not missing the sweet shudder that ripples down their skin from the unexpected touch. Spooked, a gasp forces its way from Whumpee’s parted lips, spinning on the spot to meet the stranger with wide, perplexed eyes. 

This was the one. So sensitive, so fearful… so adorable. The concern lingering in their eyes igniting a warmth in Whumper’s stomach. Though Whumper offers a trusting, soft smile to counteract the worry. They can pluck all those delightful trembles from Whumpee all they want later but for now, they have to play the trust card.

“It’s a beautiful view, isn’t it?” Whumper chimed, settling beside them and leaning against the glass railing. Whumpee’s inquisitive eyes did not deviate from Whumper for a moment, deep in thought and examining them.

“It… It is. It’s gorgeous.” Good, they had dropped their guard. Returning to their infatuated gawking at the cityscape. But Whumper resumed their infatuated gawking at them. Such a small, frail thing. Imagining them on their knees, begging for mercy with that small, timid voice… shaking at Whumper’s feet. It would be simply beautiful.

“What brings you here tonight?” Whumper inquired with a low hum, furrowing their brows. Whumpee shuffled awkwardly on their feet, alternating their balance.

“Was supposed to be a step out of my comfort zone, I guess”, they shrugged solemnly, “friends are lacking nowadays, I thought this would be a good chance to build some bridges-”

“What, out here alone on the balcony?” Whumper interjected with a teasing, light-hearted scoff.

“I … I got nervous. Came out here to collect myself and build up some courage”, they whispered, a hint of shame to their voice - timidly scratching skin on their wrist red-raw with nerves. Every word leaving Whumpee’s lips was music to Whumper’s ears. A nervous, shy wreck? No friends? Oh those one’s are so much fun, they just crumble immediately from the slightest threat. Truly riveting to watch the fear immediately overwhelm and cloud their every sense, no need for weeks of breaking them down. 

“Why don’t I go get us some more drinks? Get some liquid courage in you?” Whumper offered, the sinister intentions lurking underneath.

“Oh, I really couldn’t accept-” Whumpee blushed.

“Nonsense. I’d be happy to.” Whumper waved their hand dismissing the rejection, scuttling off before they could listen to more protests and making their way inside to the bar. Clicking their fingers to grab the bar-tenders attention, swooping over immediately ready to serve them.

“Can I get a neat whiskey and a ugh…” Whumper’s voice trailed off, eyes darting around to check no-one was in close proximity and leaning in close to the bartender’s ear “A sleeping beauty, please?”. The bartender winked back at them, understanding the secret menu order and rushing to make them. A giddy excitement washed over Whumper as they watched the pill being dropped into Whumpee’s glass, bubbles fizzing before dissolving into the liquid. They couldn’t snatch the glasses away quick enough, tumbling thank you’s to the staff before speeding back out to the balcony, outstretching the drink for Whumpee to take. 

***

“So… how are you feeling?”, Whumper quizzed, waiting impatiently for the inevitable crumble of Whumpee’s body, slipping into unconsciousness. They’d kept them talking and occupied for long enough now, the night’s end creeping up on them, they couldn’t wait much longer.

Whumpee slurps obnoxiously on their drink, swirling their straw around the glass.``Pretty good…”, they beamed, sighing contently before putting their drink down, “the question is, how are YOU feeling? Surely it’s got to have kicked in by now?”. Whumper’s face dropped, suddenly becoming aware of the light dizziness spinning in their head, a numb weightlessness growing in their muscles. Horrified realization striking them when they spot the chalky remnants floating in the bottom of their own glass.

That bastard had swapped the drinks.

An animalistic growl of fury roars from Whumper’s throat, swinging their fist through the air towards Whumpee’s face but they don’t even have to swerve or dodge the blow. Whumper’s floppy, noodle-like arm misses entirely, their body hurtling past them and crashing limp towards the ground in a boneless heap. A heartbeat thudding in their throat, panicked breaths heaving from their chest - they’d find a way to make Whumpee pay for this. 

“How fucking stupid do you think I am?!” Whumpee scoffed, offended. Starting to pace around the balcony, “I’ve been here for hours on end! Seeing people dragged out of here in all sorts of states!”. 

“I’ve seen people held at knife point! Dragged out unconscious by people saying they ‘got too drunk’... didn’t take long for me to clock that they all had these on!” Whumpee bellowed, rattling their wrist in Whumper’s eyesight before snapping the blue glow stick off with a crack. 

“I tried to leave … t-they wouldn’t let me!” Whumpee’s voice breaks, a strangled sob echoing out. “Not until the party was over, they said! So I came out here to hide…hide from all you sick fucks and ride it out until they let me go!”. Whumpee snatches the red glow stick from Whumper’s wrist, replacing it with their own blue one. Whumper only snarls, weakly trying to pull their arm away and avoid the doomed wristband but their limbs won’t respond. 

“This is my ticket out of here”, Whumpee explains, eyes flashing between their glow stick and the exit door, now able to pass by unchallenged and escape this wretched place. “Good luck… I hope whoever finds you is kinder than whatever sick shit you had planned for me”. And with that, Whumpee carelessly strides over Whumper’s perfectly still body and hurriedly leaves them vulnerable and paralysed on the ground. Fed to the wolves.

What feels like hours pass in their immobilized state, feeling sorry for themselves that they’d managed to be tricked. Whumper shivers from being exposed to the biting frost, willing their body to just work. To do something! They needed to get out of here before-

“Aw, you precious thing… you’re in quite a state, aren’t you?” Whumper’s ears prick up as the stranger coos, breaking the silence and circling around the barely conscious figure, bending to their knees to get a good look. Whumper’s hazy eyes beams up at the man silently begging them to leave them alone, their lips viciously trembling trying to form the words. A rough hand slithers under Whumper’s chin, lifting it to no resistance so they can stare into their eyes, and running their thumb softly along their jawline. Anger and fear blend together, trying to shakily lift their arm and show their red band, but instantly whimpering and recoiling when their foggy mind reminds them Whumpee had stolen it. Wondering hands caress any exposed skin they can find, the nape of their neck, the flushed cheeks, quivering hands. Whumper felt disgusted by every corrupting touch… this wasn’t right, this can’t be happening. They’re not one of them.

“Let’s get you home, huh?”, the stranger hushed, carding their hand through Whumper’s hair as they flinched away, slamming their eyes shut and inhaling harshly through their nostrils. 

“Nnnn!” Whumper moans out with terror, rolling around weightlessly, trying to get their body to crawl away but a chunky boot stamps onto their spine and pushes them into harshly into the ground with a whine of pain.

“Tskk tskk. Don’t be so ungrateful, sweetheart…”, the man spat, lifting Whumper onto their feet and throwing their arm around the stranger’s shoulder. To passersby it looked like they were merely helping a drunk friend home. Whumper mumbled and moaned in the grip as they sluggishly limped towards the exit. Their feet uselessly shuffled beneath them, only held up by their captor's grip. Sympathetic eyes set on the sight of Whumper, stumbling across the floor and leaning hopelessly against the stranger.

“They just had too much to drink, don’t worry - they’re safe with me…”

Whumper’s eyes blurred with hot tears that spilled down their cheeks, before the blurriness skewing their vision morphed to a darkness edging in their vision. Plunged into an involuntary, troubled slumber and carried out of the soiree. The last thing they heard before sleep stole them away:

“My sleeping beauty…”

#the whumpers soiree #the-whumpers-soiree #the-whumpers'-soirée #whump #whump community #whump blog #whump writing #whumpblr #whumpee #whumper #noncon drugging #noncon touch #alcohol consumption #kidnapping #mistaken identity #whump drabble #whumper party #whumper as whumpee #creepy/intimate whumper #creepy whumper

[kimium]

Chapters: 1/1

Series: Part 3 of Sort of Saw Franchise AU Summary:

One shot. Sort of Saw Franchise AU.

"Yuu pressed their lips together. The chances of running into Leona were high and Yuu could already think of several awkward scenarios that would arise from their graduate friends discovering they were friends with royalty. Smart option was to decline and go home. They could see Leona any time they wished.

“I heard they’re having a dessert special,” Riley added.

Grim immediately perked up. “Oh! A traditional Sunset Savanna dessert?? Count me in!”

“That’s the spirit!” Heather exclaimed with a grin. “Yuu?”

Well, there was no holding Grim back from food. Yuu shot him a look. “Fine, but only for a little bit.”

Yuu didn't expect a fun evening with their university friends to end with them seeing Leona, but sometimes that's just how things work out. (What murder in the background? Not important. Yuu won't notice; it's fine.)

~

Hello everyone! I’m back with a Sort of Saw Franchise AU fic that myself and @m34gs have created! This time it’s focused on Yuu interacting with Leona and Ruggie! I hope you enjoy this fic! All the mentions of anything murder or traps is very, very light in this fic! Still, be mindful of my tags and read my beginning author’s note for more details.

#personal #writing #twisted wonderland #sort of saw franchise au #university student yuu #one shot #alcohol #alcohol consumption #flirting #hint of leona/yuu #hint of leona/ruggie #kisses #more tags in the fic

[averagedog-writer]

Idfk man here

(I probs won't post other full chapters here but here's chapter one of the full fic, I'll mainly be posting this on Ao3, but anyway, shakes this post like a jar of treats) (once again this is for @beanstalk-nicholas' spn au)

“Alright, baby!” Mikey slammed the bottle down with a smirk, “usual rules? Any objections?”

“Just pour the shots,” Alopex laughed.

“We are here to celebrate! Let me be a little flamboyant!”

“Wait,” Ellie rested his head on his hand, “what are we celebrating?”

“Uh, scoff!” Mikey fell into his chair, lining shot glasses in front of him. “I’m getting a full ride to UCLA, all I gotsa do is ace this interview, and everyone knows what this face can do.”

“Ride on, little dude! I’ll be braggin’ about you in no time!”

“Guys,” Mikey sighed and leaned over the table, holding his arms out and squeezing his hands. Alopex and Ellie each sat a hand in his, letting him squeeze them as he beamed, “I love you guys.”

Alopex snorted, “Drinking without us again?”

“Love you too, Angelo.”

“Now,” Mikey pulled his hands back and grabbed the bottle, “shots!” 

His head was pounding. There was a soft white fog around the edges of his vision, it felt like someone had taken an icepick to his temple. Mikey forced himself to sit up and covered his mouth as his stomach bubbled. He glanced beside him, Alopex and Ellie were still sound asleep. 

He fell back to the pillows and held his stomach. He couldn’t bring himself to close his eyes, he laid still, staring at shadows dance on the ceiling. 

And there it was. A crash. Just beyond the door.

Mikey groaned and forced himself to sit up again, a hand over his temple. He scowled and waited, finally swinging his legs off the bed as a thud echoed through the hall. He tiptoed across the room and grabbed the doorknob, slowly pulling the door towards him. The hinges squeaked as he peered into the hall.

His breath hitched. A shadow moved across the couch, large enough to block the light pouring in from the precariously opened window. 

Mikey slipped through the door and tiptoed through the living room. He silently grabbed the neck of the vodka bottle he had conveniently left on the coffee table.

The floor creaked somewhere behind him. He wheeled around, brandishing the bottle like a sword. A hand grabbed the edge of his shell, pulling him back from his spot. He lost his footing, hitting the ground and wincing. He swang the bottle above his head, chirping as it was pulled from his hand. The intruder held his wrist and stepped around him. 

Mikey kicked his feet up, planting them on the intruder’s stomach. He paused for a second as he kicked a shell.

“Take it easy, ‘lil man!”

Mikey gasped, “Raph?” 

“Hey!”

“You scared the crap out of me!” Mikey kicked Raph’s shell before he dropped his legs and sat up.

“Sorry!” Raph scooped Mikey off the floor and balanced him on his feet, “I jus’ needed to talk to ya’.”

“Did you come in through my window?” 

“I,” he paused, “no?” 

“Why didn’t you just use the front door? Like a normal person?”

“It was locked! An’ I figured you wouldn’ answer, cause you’d be asleep.” 

“Yeah, but the window? You know you’re allowed to plan a visit, right?”

“Mikey?” The light flicked on.

Mikey wheeled around and beamed, “Alopex! Hi!” 

“Everything okay?”

“Yeah! Everything’s great! Al, this,” Mikey punched his chest, “is Raph. Raph, this is my friend Alopex.” 

“Whoa, your brother Raph?” Alopex smirked, “Nice to finally meet you.” 

“Yeah, you too! Mikey’s told me a bit about ya’, you seem like a nice girl! But uh, unfortunately I gotsa borrow your friend for a minute, we got some personal family business, so–”

“Raphael, explain yourself new,” Mikey snapped.

“Did you jus’ full name me?”

“Yes. Clearly this was something important if you had to break in to tell me, so you can just say it in front of Alopex.”

“Fine,” Raph huffed. “Dad ain’t been home for a few days.” 

“He, he’s gotta be busy, right? You know he–”

“Mikey, Dad’s on a huntin’ trip, an’ he ain’t been home in a few days.” 

Mikey sighed and groaned, throwing his head back and rolling it forward, grabbing the bridge of his nose and groaning again. “Al, can you excuse us for a minute?”

“Yeah, take your time,” she turned and waved as she slipped back into the bedroom. 

Leo’s mouth closed around the spoon as he scowled. There was a small thud just beyond the kitchen. He pulled the spoon from his mouth and dropped it in the bowl, slowly setting it in the sink and pushing off the counter.

He slipped to the arch, hugging the wall as he peered around the corner. There were footsteps, soft ones, slowly moving closer.

There were beside him. He waited a moment, watching the figure pass him by a few inches. Leo slipped through the doorway, wrapping an arm around the figure’s neck and pulling him back. It was too dark to see him, but he didn’t care. The figure was tugging at his arm, trying to pry him from around his throat. 

Leo forced him into the living room. The figure slammed back against him, throwing Leo into the wall. He groaned as his back collided, reaching his free arm over and pulling a katana from the display. 

He chirped as teeth closed around his arm. Leo pulled his arm back and pushed the intruder off him, holding his arm to his chest and holding the katana in front of him. He was panting. He could barely see, the only light in the room came from an open window. 

A foot hit his wrist. Leo winced and flexed his hand, the katana clattered to the floor. A hand grabbed the back of his neck and pushed him from the wall. A hollow thud echoed around him as something hit the back of his shell. It knocked him off him feet. He landed on his knees and stopped, the figure stepped around him and pointed one of his katanas between his eyes.

“You’re out of practice.”

“You fucking serious?” Leo snapped.

“Yeah, you’re–”

“No, are you fucking serious? Drop it.” 

“Fine.” Donnie dropped the katana and took a step back. Leo cringed as it rang against the wood. 

“Hell are you doing here?” Leo grabbed his katana and pushed himself off the floor, “You scared the shit out of me.”

“Wouldn’t it be funny if I was sorry?”

“Hell do you want?”

“A beer would be nice.”

“Donnie.” 

“Fine, fine,” he sighed and rubbed his arm, “Dad, he hasn’t been home for a few days.” 

“And I care because?”

Donnie glared, “Dad’s on a hunting trip, and he hasn’t been home in a few days.” 

“So?” Leo snickered, “I don’t give a shit about that old goat.”

“He’s a sheep and you know it!”

Leo turned on his heel, setting his katana back on its shelf. “I appreciate the family update but I don’t–”

“Leon, he’s your father and he’s missing.”

“Are we forgetting that Dad threw me off a roof?” 

“Leo–”

“No, stop, it’s my turn,” he turned again. “First, you just broke into my apartment to tell me Dad’s missing, that could’ve been a phone call, m’kay? Second, my front door was unlocked, you could’ve just walked in. And, third, we both know how I feel about Dad, you’re lucky I haven’t kicked your ass to the curb yet.”

Donnie stared at the floor. “I’m going to look for him. You don’t have to come with me but you should at least know what’s going on.” 

There was a beat. Leo took in a breath and huffed, groaning and throwing his head back. “Oh my god, you’re showing emotions. I’ll help you find Dad but I have a job interview in, like, a week, so if I’m not back for it I’m never helping you again.”

“Of course. I wouldn’t be asking you if it wasn’t important.” 

“Yeah. I know.”

“You just showed up to my apartment telling me Dad is missing! Excuse me for being a little hesitant to go with you!” Mikey followed him down the stairs. 

“You’re not listenin’! Dad’s missing, I need your help!” Raph hit the last stair and stepped onto the curb.  

“Look, you remember Amherst? Clifton? Ohio? He was missing then too, I’m sure he’s just busy!” 

Raph stopped and turned, grabbing Mikey’s shoulder and sighing. “Dad ain’t ever been gone for this long.”

“How long has he been gone?” 

“Almost a month now.”

“Are you serious?! Almost a month and you just decided to tell me?!”

“So, you’re comin’?” 

“I,” Mikey huffed, “I don’t know! You know what Dad said to me, and I just, I’ve been out for so long. Raph, you know–”

“I’m sorry. I wouldn’ be asking you to come if I didn’ think it was serious. I, I can’ do it alone.” 

Mikey groaned and threw his head back again, letting his head roll forward. “What was he hunting?” 

“Come on,” Raph turned and started down the sidewalk, Mikey close on his tail. 

They stopped behind a dark red minivan. It looked beaten up, it was at least a decade old. 

“You’re driving a minivan?”

“It was cheap, and I’ve kinda been livin’ in it.” Raph popped the trunk and took a step back. 

“Oh, Raph,��� Mikey sighed. An air mattress laid flat along the floor, seats had been removed.

Raph cleared his throat, “But, uh, Dad was huntin’ this thing outta Jericho, it’s been huntin’ men for the past twenty-somethin’ years. He went after it about three-ish weeks ago,” he pulled a record player out of a bag. “Here.”

Mikey took it and pressed play. Splinter was asking, no, begging, Raph to, “get ready,” warning him that everyone was in danger.

“You already scrub for EVP?”

“‘Course I did. Here,” Raph stepped beside Mikey and pressed buttons over his shoulder. “I slowed it down, ran it through all that stuff you told me about, and this was what I got.” 

Mikey winced at the whisper. “Never go home?”

“I know, right? It makes no sense.”

“Think it’s a ghost?”

“Gotta be.”

There was a beat. Mikey replayed the whisper, mouthing along with her. Raph slammed the van’s trunk and leaned against it. 

Mikey groaned again and turned off the recorder. “I’m going with you. But I need to pack a bag, and tell Ellie and Al, then I’ll be back. Okay?”

“Sure thing. I’ll warm her up for ya’.”

“For the record, me going with you is not because I care about Dad,” Leo leaned against the railing. 

“Right, it’s because we’re so close.”

“We might as well be twins, D. I’m doing this for you, and when we find Dad I’m out again.” 

“Yeah I got that.” Donnie popped the trunk and hummed. 

Leo’s eyes traced the car. A perfect replica of an Impala, down to every last screw, Donnie’s prized possession. He relaxed a little as he stared at it. 

“Bag,” Donnie turned and held his arm out. 

Leo slipped his bag from his shoulder and handed it over. “So, why didn’t you go with Dad?” 

“I was on my own hunt, down south.”

“Dad let you solo?”

“I’m twenty-four.”

“You know what I meant.” 

“Whatever. They found his car but none of his stuff was in it, I think he dumped it and went on foot.” 

“Wow, Dad? On foot? Never thought he’d stoop that low.”

“Leo.”

“Just sayin’.” 

“Anyway, we’re gonna follow the same way he did, we’re gonna stop, obviously, and I don’t know.” 

“Don’t hurt yourself, let’s just get this over with.”

Mikey grumbled and grabbed his bag, throwing it on the bed and forcing his closet open.

“You’re really going?” Alopex was sitting up against the pillows. 

“I kind of have to.”

“This about your dad?” 

“Yeah, it’s just a little family drama, it’s nothing super serious.”

“Raph said he was on a hunting trip?”

“Mhm, Dad hunts deer. He’s probably just at the cabin with his friends, I’m just going to check on him.”

“And, the interview?”

“I’m making that interview,” Mikey dropped a pile of clothes into the bag. Alopex slipped from the bed and stepped around it, grabbing Mikey’s arm and making him face her.

“You sure you’re okay with this?”

“I mean it’s not how I was planning on spending the week, but–”

“No, I mean, you barely talk about your family but as soon as your brother shows up you’re running off with him.” 

“I promise you, I’ll be back before my interview, I’ll call you guys as much as I can.” 

“Mikey,”

“I gotta go,” he closed his bag and threw it over his shoulder, “tell Ellie when he wakes up, and help yourself to anything in the apartment. You guys can stay here if you want.”

“I’m drinking all of your vodka.”

“Just don’t touch my champagne.”

“I can’t make any promises.” 

Mikey laughed and pressed a kiss to her cheek, “Love you guys.”

“If you don’t make the interview–”

“I’ll make it!” 

#rottmnt spn au #rottmnt fic #rottmnt au #rottmnt #fic #fanfic #rottmnt fanfiction #come get yall food #alcohol consumption #alcohol mention

[newadultfiction]

Novel DISTORTED PERCEPTIONS

A powerful coming of age story, focusing upon characters and relationships, mental health and addiction, grief and loss. The book is set in England, UK, in the 1980s and early 1990s.

#new adult #paula puddephatt #drug addiction #alcohol consumption

[the-widow-sisters]

hey hey! i have a fic idea! basically, kate’s mom has been being a total jerk to her, even more than usual, causing kate to be really upset and hurting. natasha spends more time with her over the course of a week in an attempt to cheer her up, and it does. but yelena gets really jealous and insecure. she is actually understanding and feels bad for the archer, having her own parental issues herself. but she can’t stop the sinking feeling in her gut that natasha is going to find kate better than her and leave her, because kate isn’t as broken. thank you so much!

A/N: Thank you so, so much for this incredible request!!! 💗💗💗 I really loved this idea, and I’m sorry it took me so long to write it! I’ve been on a serious lack of motivation lately, and it’s only just now starting to come back 💖

I hope you enjoy! 🥰

Word Count: 6792

  “Hey, sweet girl,” Natasha greeted, and Yelena paused immediately in the hall. It took all of her self-control not to turn and go bounding over to Natasha. She turned to face her calmly, mustering a smile.

  “Hey,” Yelena returned, and Natasha stepped closer with a grin. Yelena swallowed hard as she took in her sister’s features more fully than she had been able to in a whole week.

  The entirety of the week since Natasha and Yelena had accompanied Kate to go and visit her mother in prison, Natasha had been spending a lot of Kate. It was not that she was ignoring Yelena, but she was giving Kate more attention than usual because the visit had taken a severe toll on the young archer.

  Kate had been so terribly in pain, and she had cried the entire way home from the prison. She had been utterly heartbroken from the entire thing, and Yelena was starting to see precisely why Kate was always so mellow and odd after her mother called her once every one or two weeks.

  The worst part was that Yelena could not even bring herself to ask for extra attention for a multitude of different reasons. One of which was the fact that she could understand Kate’s hurt and pain. She had been ready to hurt that stupid woman for hurting the poor kid, and some part of her was overcome with a protectiveness that baffled her and that somewhat resembled the manner in which she regarded Peter.

  Granted, she did not care about Kate as much as Peter, but Yelena was still protective over innocent, dumb kids.

  However, this simply led into Yelena’s other predicament. Kate was so much more innocent and good than Yelena, and she knew that Natasha had a tendency to feel protective over kids as well.

  Also, from what she had seen of Natasha that week, Yelena knew that she was having fun with Kate and that she was terribly fond of and protective of Kate. It was something that resembled in some odd way the way that Natasha looked at Yelena herself. It was not as strong, but it was definitely present.

  Quite honestly, that terrified Yelena. She knew that she herself was broken, damaged, and so needy so often. And she knew that Kate, while hurting and carrying her own bit of baggage, was still far more salvageable than Yelena in her selflessness and her more natural cheeriness.

  So, naturally it would make sense for Natasha to want Kate more than Yelena. The thought had depressed and terrified Yelena so deeply and so much that throughout the entirety of the week, she had worked her hardest to give Natasha and Kate space and distance. She knew that she was likely losing Natasha to Kate, but she did not want Natasha to remain with her simply from a feeling of obligation. She also did not want to annoy Natasha and drive her away further.

  And she knew she was being selfish. Natasha did truly deserve so much better than her. It was just that Yelena could not stand the thought of someone else entirely taking her place. It was the only thing that was keeping her from letting Natasha go.

  She had been doing her best to keep from letting her more selfish tendencies overtake her, and she had been purposefully distancing herself from Natasha all week. But now Natasha was here and unknowingly forcing Yelena to face her, and it was unbelievably and incredibly hard for Yelena to keep from just caving and demanding that her big sister stay there with her and that she never leave her again.

  “Why don’t you come hang out with me and Kate? We’re going to practice some of the moves that she’s not so good with, and they just happen to be our specialty, so I thought you might could help if you want,” Natasha offered suddenly, pulling her out of her thoughts. Yelena felt her insides twist a little, and it only made it worse since Yelena knew that Natasha was extending the invitation to her out of a place of kindness.

  However, Yelena knew that Natasha was likely better off without her anyway and some part of her was terrified that Natasha was only offering out of pity. After all, why would Natasha be talking to her when she had spent so much time with Kate and had likely by now seen that Kate was so much better than her?

  So Yelena just shrugged, forcing nonchalance as she called upon the training she had learned from the Red Room so well. The lie came to her so easily that it almost was baffling especially considering the fact that she was telling the person she trusted most.

  “I promised Little Peter I’d go shopping for May with him. It’s her birthday soon and he wanted to get her something nice,” the words slipped off of her tongue as naturally as breathing, and she could not help but curse herself. She really was not good enough to be Natasha’s sister.

  Natasha mostly bought the lie, only looking just a little bit skeptical as she eyed the blonde. Yelena kept her eye contact consistent, forcing herself to be as normal as possible.

  Natasha finally offered her a small smile, and she tilted her head as she approached her a little closer.

  “Hey… After you go hang out with Peter, why don’t we do something together? I feel like we haven’t seen each other all week, and I know I’ve spent a lot of time with Kate recently,” Natasha started, those eyes shining with that beautiful love and care that made Yelena ache, and Yelena immediately shook her head to interrupt her.

  “I know why you have. It’s okay,” Yelena told her, and it was honestly a half-truth. She understood why Natasha was spending so much time with Kate as of late, but Yelena was not entirely sure if she herself was okay even though she could sympathize with Kate’s situation.

  “I’m so proud of you… But we need some time for just us. Let me know when you’re done with Peter this evening, and me and you are going to Dairy Queen, okay?” Natasha told her with a small, playful grin, and Yelena nodded, forcing a smile onto her face. As much as she longed to be with Natasha and to spend time with her, she knew Natasha did not need someone like her. She also did not want to accept something that Natasha was probably offering out of pity.

  Natasha grasped her cheeks softly, leaning forward and kissing the center of her forehead softly. Yelena closed her eyes with the contact, trying not to cry as the urge suddenly overcame her. As Natasha pulled back from her with a soft smile, Yelena forced one of her own, and she moved away from Natasha to walk off in the direction of the elevator.

  She could feel Natasha’s eyes on her, but once she got into the elevator, she pointedly did not look at the redhead, not wanting Natasha to catch onto her lie.

  The truth was that Yelena was not about to go and spend time with Peter at all. In fact, she did not even really know what he was doing that day.

  All of the pain and the stress of the past week had been more than Yelena could take, and she was finally reaching her breaking point. Something about seeing her sister again in that moment had made her hurt even worse. It made her miss her big sister even more, and it was making it even harder for her to accept that she needed to let her go.

  So, to deal with these emotions, she was about to go and do something that would be nowhere near acceptable in Natasha’s eyes.

    ………………………………………………………………………………………………………

       “Man, Tasha… Do you always have to throw me on my butt?” Kate complained as she yet again found herself on the floor. Natasha could not help but chuckle somewhat in reply to the kid.

  “Only when the situation calls for it. Watch your left side a little better and it might not happen so often,” Natasha teasingly replied with a wink, extending her hand to help Kate to her feet once again.

  However, her heart was not particularly in the words or in the entire lighthearted tone of things.

  She could not get her mind off of Yelena and the way she had acted earlier. Something had been off, but Natasha could not quite place it. It was confusing her terribly and perplexing her, and all she wanted to do was go and find out what was going on.

  Of course, some of the feeling might be because she really just wanted some time with only her and her sister. She missed Yelena, but since the disaster with Kate and her mother, Natasha had felt like Kate needed some additional attention. Kate was hurting deeply, and Natasha knew that Kate deserved a little extra love and special affection. Goodness knows she had been there for Natasha in times of need.

  And even though she knew that Yelena likely was not going to like it, Natasha still felt like she needed to give Kate more attention. Especially since Yelena was doing well and was not suffering in the same manner as Kate at the moment.

  Shockingly to Natasha, Yelena had been a perfect angel this entire time. Granted, Natasha had not seen her a whole lot, and Natasha was beginning to worry that Yelena was distancing herself to some degree, but Yelena had done nothing to explicitly indicate that there was something wrong. And in the past, Yelena had always very loudly told Natasha if she did not like her spending so much time with Kate.

  She just wished she knew precisely what was going on in Yelena’s head. Her most recent confrontation with her was immensely worrying Natasha.

  “You okay? You seem distracted,” Kate’s concerned voice suddenly interrupted her thoughts, and Natasha just smiled, the gesture a little strained as she nodded.

  “Yeah. I’m fine. You okay?” Natasha sent it back to her, concern slipping into her gaze as she gave Kate a chance to talk about her feelings if she wanted. Kate’s gaze softened into adoration, but there was still some concern evident in her eyes as she looked at the redhead.

  “Yeah. This week has been absolutely amazing, and I just wanted to thank you for being there for me,” Kate expressed, and Natasha shook her head, reaching out to touch her face softly as she smoothed her thumb just barely over Kate’s cheek.

  “Of course, sweetheart. I’m always here for you if you need me,” Natasha expressed, her words wholehearted and honest as she spoke to the younger girl. After all, even though she missed Yelena and wanted more time with her like they had before this week, she still loved Kate and would always be there for her in her times of need.

  “Look, Tasha, I know how hard it has been for you this week. You’ve been spending so much time with me, and you haven’t seen Yelena as much as you normally would. And don’t get me wrong, I really appreciate it and all that you’ve done, but I would never want you to stop spending time with Yelena,” Kate told her, and Natasha swallowed, surprised at the fact that Kate had picked up on her issue.

  However, she supposed that she probably should not be that shocked. Kate had gotten to know her pretty well over time. Naturally, she did not know Natasha nearly as well as Yelena did, but Kate still was extremely astute when it came to matters of emotion and empathy. Kate was perhaps one of the most empathetic and selfless people that Natasha knew.

  “Sweet one, I wanted to spend some time with you. You needed me, and Yelena… she doesn’t need me as much right now,” Natasha expressed. She knew that Yelena always needed her, but she also knew that there were times when Yelena did not need her quite as much as she could.

  Despite all of that, Natasha could not deny that she did indeed want to spend time with Yelena and Yelena alone.

  “I know you want to spend time with Yelena… And I know you’ve been worried about her this week. I didn’t want to say anything because I didn’t want to pry or get in your business or whatever, but please. If you want to spend time with her, I understand. I truly am feeling better now,” Kate expressed, her voice shining with nothing but honesty, and Natasha scanned her face and eyes for any hint of a lie.

  True to her word, Kate seemed to be completely fine and there was no hint of sadness or hurt within her stare. Natasha thanked everything that Kate was such a ray of sunshine and could be so optimistic so often. Kate just needed some time to recover, and then she would come bounding back.

  Obviously things were sometimes difficult for her and she sometimes even put on a mask, but Natasha was really good at seeing through it, and since Natasha had found out that she put it up sometimes, Natasha had pointedly made a point to look closer and to offer comfort when she saw it up.

  Fortunately, this was not one of those times, and Kate seemed to be truly okay.

  “You sure?” Natasha could not help but ask, not wanting to immediately bound away to go and contact her sister to spend time with her despite the fact that she wanted nothing more than to make a beeline for Yelena and just bury her nose in her neck and hug her as hard as she could.

  “Go for it, Tasha,” Kate told her with a slight grin, and Natasha truly wondered if her eagerness really showed through that much. She moved forward, grabbing Kate’s face softly, and pulling her down to her level to give her a forehead kiss.

  “You are such an angel,” Natasha told her gently, the words slipping out and her not quite meaning for them to. However, as she pulled back a little uncertainly. Kate was grinning widely, and every bit of her expression was practically glowing.

  “Nah… I try, but I mean… Like I’m not a total angel. I have a dark side, y’know,” Kate tried to be mysterious and teasing, but she simply came off completely goofy, and Natasha rolled her eyes as she squeezed the girl’s shoulder gently.

  “Sure,” Natasha unconvincingly replied as she turned away and walked a small distance away in the gym to call Yelena.

  She allowed it to ring, and to her surprise, Yelena did not pick up at all. Natasha furrowed her brow but remained perfectly calm despite her initial feeling to freak out a little. Yelena likely just forgot her phone.

  Natasha quickly called Peter, knowing that despite how scatter-brained he could be sometimes that he always kept his phone on him. May would positively tear half of the city apart if she could not get ahold of him, and May was even larger than an Avengers-level threat.

  “Hello?”

  “Hey, kid. Are you and Yelena done shopping for May?” Natasha questioned, desperately hoping that the answer was yes. Peter was dead silent for a moment until he finally spoke up.

  “Uh… No?”

  “Oh, okay. That’s okay. But could you maybe text and let me know when you guys are done? I just wanted to—”

  “Miss Romanoff…. Um… We’re not shopping for May,” Peter interrupted her tentatively, and Natasha froze in place. Yelena had lied to her? That was completely unlike her, and Natasha immediately felt a sinking feeling deep within her gut.

  “What? What are you guys doing then?” Natasha questioned, and she could hear Kate approaching her from behind tentatively.

  “Yelena’s not with me. I got May’s present three days ago,” Peter answered, and Natasha remained dead silent as she felt like everything was closing in around her far too quickly and far too tightly.

  “Okay… Peter, I’ll talk to you later. I’ve got to find Yelena,” Natasha abruptly announced, her entire being filled with terror, and she could feel Kate drawing nearer.

  “Sure! Maybe text and let me know if you find her? I could even help look if you want!” Peter offered, and Natasha shook her head, quickly making the decision that she would first try to find Yelena before bringing Peter into it.

  “No, no, that’s okay, Peter, I—”

  Natasha paused as she realized someone else was calling her.

  “I’ve got to go. Someone’s calling me. It might be Yelena. I’ll text later,” Natasha promised, quickly flipping over to the other call.

  “Hello?” Natasha started, desperation leaking into her voice. She had not checked the caller ID before answering, and she was very much hoping to hear Yelena’s voice gracing her ears. That adorably warm Russian voice was always like the sweetest music.

  “Hey, uh… It’s Sarah from Moose Hill? We’ve got someone here that’s definitely had one too many and gave me your number to call to pick her up?” the woman on the other end of the phone explained, and Natasha could hear someone drunkenly talking in the background. Natasha felt her stomach plummeting.

  “Did she say her name?” Natasha inquired, feeling dread coming over her as she felt like she recognized the voice talking in the background.

  “Miss, what’s your name?” the girl questioned, and Natasha listened carefully. She suddenly heard the drunken voice in the background growing much closer.

  “Oh, do you have my sister on the phone? Natashka, can you hear me?! It’s Yelena!!!” the voice called, and Natasha let out a deep and long sigh as she closed her eyes and rubbed her head.

  “Ma’am, are you still there?” the woman finally spoke up again, sounding a little strained and rather irritated, and Natasha knew that Yelena must be giving her some trouble.

  “Yes. I’m coming down there now. What’s your address?” Natasha asked.

  Once the woman had finished giving her the address, Natasha thanked her and hung up. She then immediately started heading out toward her car where it was parked outside. She could hear Kate hurrying behind her to keep up.

  “Hey, what’s going on?” Kate asked as she sidled up to her. Natasha quickly headed over to grab her jacket which had her keys, and she shrugged it on quickly mid-stride.

  “Yelena’s drunk out of her mind at some bar, and I’m going to pick her up,” Natasha told Kate swiftly, something between immense irritation and worry within her.

  She honestly could not believe that Yelena had done this. What had possessed her to go and drown herself in what was obviously extremely strong alcohol?

  Yelena did not usually drink considering Natasha’s influence in her life, and Natasha was deeply worried about what could have possibly caused her to want to drink in the first place. Yelena only ever had the urge to drink when she was upset about something.

  “Can I come with you?” Kate asked, and Natasha let out a sigh as they reached the elevator.

  “Yeah. Let’s go.”

    ………………………………………………………………………………………………………

       Natasha got out of the car swiftly, and Kate exited immediately after her. Natasha hurried inside the place, pushing through the doors and entering with Kate at her heels. It was a horridly sleazy place, and the thought of Yelena even setting foot in here made Natasha’s stomach turn.

  She immediately spotted Yelena sitting at the bar, that blonde ponytail unmistakable as she laid her head and upper body on the bar. Natasha moved over there as quickly as she could.

  “Look, lady, don’t talk to me about my sister. My sister’s the best and you keep her name out of your mouth… She’s the wonderfulest person on Earth,” Yelena declared confidently, and Natasha reached her side as she placed her hand on Yelena’s shoulder.

  Yelena immediately seemed angry as she shot up drunkenly from her seat. Even in this state, she was still a force to be reckoned with, and she obviously had not recognized Natasha yet.

  “Don’t touch me,” Yelena slurred, swinging a surprisingly quick punch. However, it was still not nearly fast enough to hit Natasha, and she easily caught it as she grasped Yelena’s neck with her other hand.

  Yelena paused, and after a moment, she became completely calm, just offering Natasha a lopsided grin. She leaned in, almost falling into Natasha, and Natasha grabbed her in her arms quickly as she caught her. Yelena had obviously recognized her, and she had no qualms about fully leaning her body into Natasha as she allowed Natasha to put the effort into holding her up.

  “Natty, what’s up?” Yelena questioned, the smell of booze on her breath and her eyes far less focused than they should have been. Natasha let out a deep breath, furrowing her brow as she looked over at the bartender.

  “Thank you for calling and for keeping an eye on her. Will this cover all she drank?” Natasha expressed, reaching in her pocket and putting two one-hundred-dollar bills on the bar. The woman took it slowly, her eyes wide as she took in the fact that there was an Avenger standing directly before her.

  “Of course,” the woman simply replied, and Natasha turned her head back to face Yelena.

  To her surprise, Yelena leaned forward and placed a sloppy kiss against her chin. She had obviously been aiming for Natasha’s cheek, but when Natasha had turned back around, it messed up her aim.

  “Love you,” Yelena expressed, and Natasha let out a deep sigh as she shook her head. She loved Yelena, but she was not loving Yelena’s choices and actions at the moment.

  “I love you, too. But what were you thinking? Why are you here getting drunk?” Natasha demanded, not really thinking that Yelena was going to give her too many answers but nevertheless hoping she could garner some manner of explanation. She tried to make sure that her questions were clear so that Yelena might could have a chance of answering.

  She could feel Kate close by her, and she knew the girl was not entirely comfortable with the atmosphere around them. Of course, Natasha could not blame her since she herself was not entirely comfortable with the surroundings either.

  “Don’t remember, don’t matter… Wait… It’s Dairy Queen time, right?! Just you and me?!” Yelena excitedly pointed out, and Natasha could not help but notice that Yelena was still somewhat guarded even in her drunken state.

  She obviously remembered more than she let on because she remembered Natasha offering to take them to Dairy Queen. However, Yelena was always better at remembering things when it pertained to food anyway, so Natasha could not be sure.

  “No, we’re not getting Dairy Queen tonight. You’re drunk. Besides, we’ve got to take Kate back to the compound, and then we’ve got to go home,” Natasha told her carefully, trying to ensure her words were easy to understand.

  Yelena furrowed her brow, suddenly seeming to realize Kate was here. Her eyes narrowed a little as she focused on her, and Kate looked somewhat afraid. Natasha tightened her hold on Yelena’s arms, and Yelena just stared at Kate as she forced herself to stand upright.

  “She wants you more than me,” Yelena finally stated, and Natasha maintained a good grasp on Yelena in case she got violent. Kate looked completely baffled, and Natasha could not deny the stab that hit her own heart with Yelena’s words.

  “You’re not broken like me,” Yelena gestured to herself, and Natasha loosened her hold immediately as she gaped at the blonde, feeling as if her insides were tearing apart with every slurred word that Yelena stumbled over. Kate looked as if she had been slapped as she stared.

  “She deserves somebody who’s got a chance to be something. Not somebody like me that’s just… a washed-up, ugly mess,” Yelena spat, but there was no venom in the words. There was only immense sadness, rejection, and acceptance as she moved over into Kate’s space more closely as she tried to speak to her. Kate glanced swiftly in Natasha’s direction in a silent question of what she should do.

  Natasha herself felt like crying and could not even begin to give Kate any directions on what to do. She had absolutely no idea what Yelena had been going through this week. She thought that everything was fine. She figured Yelena might be a little jealous, but because Yelena had not told her what was going on as they promised that they always would, Natasha had completely missed all of this.

  And Natasha was beating herself up relentlessly now with the guilt and pure self-hatred.

  “You’re annoying, clumsy, and just a kid, but you’re pure. Innocent. She deserves a lil’ sister like you. One that… Not selfish and stupid,” Yelena stumbled forward just a little toward Kate and Kate’s hands shot out to steady her.

  Natasha was honestly shocked at the fact that Yelena was stringing together some coherent sentences. They were growing hard to understand given her slurring and the thickening of her accent, but they were nevertheless whole thoughts, and Natasha’s heart was being ripped in half with every single one.

  Natasha let out a breath, trying to get ahold of herself, and she reached out, taking Yelena into her arms as she started to guide her toward the door.

  “Let’s go, okay?” Natasha coaxed, and Yelena stepped along with her, her center of balance terribly off as she alternated between veering off to the side and leaning hard into Natasha’s side. Kate moved along behind them, remaining a little closer to Yelena in case she fell backwards or something.

  “I love you… Want you to be happy,” Yelena pitifully expressed finally as they grew close to the doors leaving the place.

  “I know, baby girl… I know,” Natasha replied, trying diligently to keep down the tears at Yelena’s pure honesty and heartfelt love despite her alcohol-addled state. Yelena’s head lolled around for a moment, and then she let her nose crash into the side of Natasha’s neck. She moved her head up and down, rubbing the tip of her nose and her lips gently along Natasha’s skin.

  “Katie’s good little kid. Like Little Peter,” Yelena explained, her voice sounding terribly broken as tears started to affect her. Natasha just softly sifted her hand through her hair and caressed her jaw softly.

  “C’mon, let’s go home,” Natasha told her, choosing not to answer her more fully for fear that she herself would break down into tears at this point.

  “I understand you need to take care of her. She needs taking care of. She’s a baby,” Yelena mumbled almost incoherently against Natasha’s neck, and Natasha just tried to ignore her as she took her over to the back of the car. Kate opened the door for them, allowing Natasha to pick Yelena up and put her in the backseat.

  Yelena grabbed onto her, wrapping around her as she always did when she was carried to bed by Natasha at night. Natasha almost felt choked up at the familiarity, and the intense feeling of missing her baby sister flooded all of her senses.

  Natasha immediately decided in that moment that if Kate ever needed her again, Natasha would ensure that she could spend time with Yelena and Kate far more equally. Never again would she assume Yelena was fine.

  She carefully laid her in the backseat, and as per usual when Yelena grabbed onto her, Yelena did not want to let her go. Natasha let out a deep breath as she turned her head to look back at Kate.

  “Can you… Wait, you don’t know how to drive,” Natasha realized, and Kate grinned somewhat sheepishly and awkwardly.

  “I mean… I don’t technically know how… But I could try?” Kate offered, and Natasha shook her head, prying Yelena’s arms away from her before working at her legs quickly.

  “No, don’t worry. I’ll do it. But we have got to fix that not knowing how to drive situation,” Natasha mumbled the last part to herself as she managed to get Yelena untangled from her. She carefully shut the door before heading over to the driver’s seat and getting in.

  Kate slid into the passenger seat, and Natasha quickly started the car and headed for the compound. The sooner that she could get Yelena home, the sooner things might could start getting resolved.

  They drove in silence for a while, Kate alternating between looking down at her hands in her lap and looking out the windows. In the quiet, Natasha swiftly began to note that Yelena was somewhere between sleeping and incoherently trying to talk about something.

  However, it soon became clear that she was attempting to sing rather than speak.

  “Loving can hurt… Loving can hurt sometimes… But it’s the only thing that I know. When it gets hard… Y’know, it can get hard sometimes,” Yelena tried her best to sing, and Natasha felt her gut twist as she realized precisely which song that Yelena was singing. It was Ed Sheeran’s “Photograph,” which was the first song that Peter had wanted to play when he got a guitar for his birthday.

  “It is the only thing that makes us feel alive… We keep this love in a photograph… We made these memories for ourselves. Where eyes never close… Hearts never broken… Time’s frozen still… Keep me inside the pocket of your ripped jeans,” Yelena ended up fading into some manner of humming as she filled in the blanks of words that she did not know by heart.

  Natasha wiped at her eyes with her free hand, unable to keep herself from crying at the words of the song and how beautiful her sister’s voice sounded even when she was drunk out of her mind. She suddenly felt a hand on her shoulder, and she glanced over to her side to see that Kate was just looking at her softly with a somewhat weak smile.

  Natasha smiled back at her gratefully before averting her eyes to the road before them and swallowing hard. She positioned her right hand so that she could open it up to hold Kate’s, and as soon as she opened her palm, Kate’s hand found her own.

  To Natasha’s surprise, she suddenly felt breaths falling against the back of her neck. As she came to a halt at a stop sign, she craned her neck to try to see what Yelena was doing. She had draped herself onto the back of Natasha’s seat, and her chin was resting near Natasha’s left shoulder as she breathed heavily and sounded near completely passing out.

  Natasha let out a breath, raising her left hand from the wheel briefly to touch the side of Yelena’s face as she remained paused at the stop sign. Yelena leaned into her grasp a little, her nose pressing into Natasha’s hand before she pressed a somewhat sloppy kiss to her hand.

  Natasha let out a breath before hesitantly moving her hand away and returning her hand to the steering wheel as she kept driving. They were nearing the compound at this point.

  As she heard snores resounding in her ears, she knew that her baby sister had finally passed out. She let out a deep breath, tightening her grip a little on Kate’s hand.

  What a mess they found themselves in…

    ………………………………………………………………………………………………………

       Yelena opened her eyes just a little, and the first thing that she noticed was that there was bright sunlight shining in her eyes. She closed them quickly once again, noting the headache affecting her horridly. She hid her face into her pillow, and she let out a slight breath nearing a whine before sucking in the scent of the pillow. It very loudly screamed Natasha’s scent, and she nuzzled her nose further into it, loving the smell and feeling it start to erase a little of the sharper edges of her headache.

  As something suddenly tightened around her waist, she paused, realizing that the scent was not just emanating from the pillow.

  “I brought some pills and a glass of water for the hangover,” Natasha whispered near her ear just behind her, and Yelena furrowed her brow, trying to remember what had happened last night. She finally recollected getting drunk, but she could not really remember what had happened after her eleventh shot of their strongest stuff that they offered.

  However, Natasha must have somehow found her after she had done it, and she had no idea how the redhead had done it. Yelena had purposefully not brought her phone with her because she had wanted to get drunk out of her mind without interruption. She must have only accomplished half of that goal.

  Yelena immediately felt guilt washing over her as she realized that her sister was here with her and as she realized that Natasha must have found out she lied to her.

  “What happened?” Yelena risked asking, not about to bring everything else up of her own accord despite the fact that she knew the truth was about to come out to Natasha regardless of whether she wanted it to or not. Yelena was feeling entirely too awful to fight her too much and at this point, she was almost drunk on her sister’s scent and her gentle, loving touch.

  “You went out to a bar, didn’t bring your phone with you, and when you had way too much, the bartender called me and asked me to pick you up,” Natasha explained, and Yelena could hear the barest hints of unhappiness in her voice.

  “I’m sorry,” Yelena tentatively apologized. It was vague, but she knew Natasha would know what she meant. She was sorry for worrying her, getting drunk, and lying to her. Natasha was quiet for a moment before speaking up again.

  “Don’t be,” Natasha replied, her words so frighteningly soft that Yelena could not read in-between the lines to determine her tone. Yelena immediately opened her eyes despite her headache, and she furrowed her brow in confusion.

  There was a silence between them for a long moment, and Yelena was honestly scared to say anything else. She was not sure what was going through her sister’s head, and she could not get a good idea of it without looking at her.

  Yelena shifted somewhat uncomfortably and was about to turn around, but Natasha suddenly spoke up.

  “This is all my fault,” Natasha admitted, and Yelena was positively baffled at the fact that the older woman sounded near tears. Yelena turned in her embrace so that she could look at her incredulously.

  There were tears shining in those gorgeous light greens, and they were only further accentuated by the sunlight coming through the window and pouring onto her face as she looked at Yelena. Yelena’s eyes widened a little, and she almost completely forgot her headache as she reached up softly and touched Natasha’s face, cupping it in her grasp as she eyed her.

  “It’s not… Natasha,” Yelena used Natasha’s actual name without its usual fond addition to the end, trying to communicate how serious she was about her statement.

  “Yelena, it is. I neglected you and made you feel like I wanted Kate more than you,” Natasha used her actual name in return, and Yelena felt her stomach flipping. It almost sounded like Natasha knew this for a fact, and it made her nervous.

  “No. No, you didn’t—”

  “Last night, you told me I deserved somebody who wasn’t broken and who was innocent like Kate,” Natasha dropped the bomb, and Yelena was quiet for a moment. She more than anything wanted to deny the words, but as she opened her mouth to speak, Natasha shook her head immediately.

  “And don’t even try to write that off as you being drunk and not knowing what you were talking about. One thing about being drunk is that it not only makes you act in ways you wouldn’t normally, but it also shows more of your true self and feelings. Trust me… I know,” Natasha expressed, blinking and allowing several droplets of tears to tragically stream down her face. Yelena wiped them away, feeling positively awful as she realized that she must have dumped a lot of her feelings on Natasha the previous night.

  And given the grief, utter guilt, and self-loathing in Natasha’s eyes, Yelena was willing to bet that Natasha knew the entire expanse of emotion she was feeling and why she had gone out to drink herself into a stupor in the first place.

  “Natashka…”

  “I love you more than anything in the world, and I never think of you as broken. If anyone’s broken, it’s me. I don’t even know how to do this thing with us right, and I keep hurting you,” Natasha admitted, and Yelena shook her head a little, involuntarily disagreeing with the redhead’s words.

  “And I don’t deserve Kate more than you. I don’t deserve her, and I most certainly more than anything don’t deserve you. Kate is innocent, but you are,” Natasha paused for a moment, letting out a small breath as she tried to collect her thoughts and keep her voice steady. Yelena easily recognized the technique as one of her own that she used to keep from letting the tears overtake her.

  “You’re my everything and you are quite possibly one of the most forgiving, loving people I know. And I never deserved you. Not when we were kids, and most certainly not now,” Natasha admitted, and Yelena swallowed hard, feeling tears coming to her now.

  “Natashka, you’re not broken. I am broken. And you deserve everything,” Yelena admitted to her openly, her thumbs stroking Natasha’s cheeks under her eyes as Natasha kept her arms around her middle.

  “No. You’re not broken. If you’re broken, then I sure as anything am,” Natasha sharply replied, and Yelena knew that Natasha was not going to give up on the words. She was in that stubborn state of mind where she refused to accept any other criticisms.

  “You’re not broken,” Yelena argued, and Natasha nodded resolutely.

  “Okay. So you’re not broken either,” Natasha pointed out, and Yelena shook her head.

  “I didn’t say that,” Yelena let out a small humorless chuckle, and Natasha just stared at her expectantly.

  “Then say it,” Natasha told her, and Yelena remained quiet as she closed her eyes for a short moment.

  “Natashka.”

  “You’re not broken. You’re my baby sister. You’re mine. Mine, mine, mine for as long as you’ll have me, and I will do anything to prove that to you,” Natasha firmly explained, her tone leaving no room for argument and her voice desperate and strangely full of love. Her eyes were shining with determination and that stubbornness that had been so characteristic of her throughout her entire life.

  Yelena swallowed hard at Natasha’s admission, Natasha’s claiming of her flooding her senses for a moment and overwhelming her with so much adoration and idolization. She let out a small breath, searching Natasha’s gaze as she felt her heart filling and the doubts from before starting to fade away a little.

  “What can I do to prove it?” Natasha asked softly, moving her arms from Yelena’s middle to cradle her face as she just stared into her eyes, those light greens boring into her very soul. Yelena swallowed hard.

  “Just,” Yelena swallowed again, trying to get ahold of herself and speak past the lump in her throat. “Could you start by just maybe some love?”

  Natasha’s eyes softened, and she immediately smoothed her hands over Yelena’s cheeks and ran them through her hair. She then moved her head forward to kiss Yelena’s cheeks, forehead, nose, and chin. Yelena closed her eyes, reveling in the contact as she simply relished her sister’s nearness and the soft contact she was offering her.

  Natasha finally took the back of her head in her hand and drew her against her chest, her chin on top of her head. Yelena wasted no time nuzzling her nose into Natasha’s collarbone as Natasha’s fingers scratched softly at her scalp as her other hand stroked her back.

  “I love you. Please tell me if something like this is happening with you. I always want to know what’s going on,” Natasha whispered, sounding close to tears, and Yelena nodded against her.

  “I will. I love you, too.”

  Yelena just nestled closer to her, taking a deep breath of Natasha.

  She had missed this so much. And come what may, she never aimed to let her go again.

#natasha romanoff #yelena belova #kate bishop #widow sisters #black widow #natasha romanov #black widow 2021 #marvel #hawkeye #hawkeye 2021 #marvel fanfic #marvel fic #marvel fanfiction #fanfic #fic #fanfiction #drunk #drinking #alcohol consumption #alcohol #sisters #family #platonic relationships #platonic relationship #cuddling #snuggling #angst #heavy angst #hurt/comfort

[ask-team-misfit]

@the-sun-rises-in-the-south Vi > Lief T/D

Vi would approach Lief, carrying two barrels full of wine.

Vi: "Hey, Lief, dare you to chug a barrel by the end of this event."

She would place a barrel in front of him, it had a long ass straw that was also a tesla valve straw.

Vi: "And- just to prove its possible."

She tilted the other barrel back and began chugging it, finishing all of the wine in it within 1 minute, barely even buzzed, which made it just seem like it wasn't even actually wine to Lief.

[ @the-sun-rises-in-the-south ]

He blinked at Vi with disbelief, looking between her and the barrels she brought in. Both easily matched him in size.

Lief: "Geez, whoever's keeping an eye on the place really needs to start doing background checks... because if it isn't yet another sight for sore eyes. I am overjoyed at the amount of familiar faces around here."

He grumbled the above as he stepped closer to the barrel she had deemed his to drink. He looked over it and the straw with narrow eyes. His antennae begin to shake repeatedly as he made a real attempt to determine what could be inside.

Lief: "Big mistake telling me to chug and leave out what we're chugging. For all I know, you could be trying to poison me..."

He raised an eyebrow as he got a whiff of the liquid inside. It was familiar to him, not unlike the red wine he just drank. But it was somewhat different as well; he couldn't quite figure it out, even after a while longer of examining the barrel.

Lief: "You're lucky I can recognize the smell... it's a dare."

Determined to show Vi what for, he grasped the straw in both paws and began suckling the drink through it.

As the taste filled his mouth, he was half tempted to stop and spit it out. He only barely held himself back.

But he made himself keep going, sipping harder and harder as he struggled to get much out at first.

He didn't just want to show off to Vi, at this rate.

He wanted to come out on top, before all these Pokemon that he had embarrassed himself prior in front of, out of spite.

Granted, a large part in him being so rash about drinking an unknown liquid from a god Pokemon more than large enough to overpower him was due to him feeling a little loopy from his earlier drinking spree.

Aside that if it really was the same drink as what's in the punch bowl, then Vi should also be as woozy as he was feeling, if not worse due to her drinking a barrel's worth of the stuff.

Even gods could get sick, right?

#pokemon #ask blog #pokeask blog #pokemon ask blog #Lief Simbobeon #Vi Zerakrom #the-sun-rises-in-the-south #answered #LoUsleepover #LoUTruthnDare #pokemon askblog #pokeask #pokemon ask #pokeaskblog #alcohol consumption #alcoholism