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mylevisdontfitanymore · 2 years

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lately i’ve been thinking about nat having kept a really strict diet/fitness regimen for so long and then finally indulging a little bit. and then a bit more. okay, a lot more. she really starts putting on weight and she’s always hungry all of a sudden and she goes from having been able to run a mile with ease to being out of breath just from walking from the couch to the fridge. she’s a little embarrassed about it (especially so when she gets really burpy, always flushed in the face and murmuring the softest “‘scuse me” when she lets a belch out) but she’s even more embarassed by how much it turns her on to have such a big belly and to overeat.

she knows there’s no going back to how things were when she realizes her belly is so big it dwarfs her tits 🫣

(hope this is okay, i just wanted ur thoughts on the concept + if u had anything to add!)

Oooo yes, I love this ex-jock adjacent journey for Natasha!

And you know what I thought of immediately upon reading your ask? I thought about this chubby kink fic I’ve re-read probably a thousand times “Doubling the Recipe” by caloriebomb. It doesn’t have Natasha getting chubby (it’s a stucky fic with feedee Bucky) but there’s this part where Natasha mentions:

“‘Lots of guys get a little belly when they're discharged,” Natasha said. “I probably would, too, if it weren't for the patriarchal double-standard that won't let girls get fat without giving them shit. Though I guess you've appointed yourself Bucky's shit-giving angel.’” (taken from chapter 3 specifically)

So, of course, moving out from that connection… this idea obviously then makes me think about ex-military Natasha. She’s been honorably discharged, she’s done her time, and now she’s just a regular civilian and so she doesn’t have to keep up that strict diet and even more strict fitness regimen. Why would she? She doesn’t need to be able to outrun enemies, she doesn’t need to be societally appealing in order to get details out of pig-headed men that are in charge of shit simply because they’re men, not because they’re the best at their job, she doesn’t need to be able to throw people off of her despite her usually smaller size, she doesn’t need to be able to slip through tight spaces, she doesn’t need to do any of that anymore. And she’s tired of doing all that. So… doesn’t it make sense for her to go the other way and eat all the things she wasn’t allowed to before? She deserves to relax.

Romanogers below the cut, you know the drill, unbeta'd. This is your Belly Kink warning. At first, its solo Natasha stuffing, weight gain, and masturbation. Then Steve comes into the picture 😏

And it becomes a habit. Do you know how hard it is to go back to a world of perfectly nutritious food and the proper amount of exercise once you’ve tasted a whole new world of flavor and texture and, just, enjoyment that you’ve never been allowed before?

Exorbitantly hard.

Natasha has spent her entire professional career being resilient and using up all of her self-restraint, meaning she doesn’t have any left to, do what exactly-? Fit in with what society deems beautiful in the current era? Body types a part of the fashion industry, coming in hot and going out soon after. Pfft. Fuck that.

Why would Natasha fucking care at this point in her life?

However, that being said, the first healthy chunk of weight comes on as a result of letting loose just because she can. It’s an accident. But once she comes to terms with her increased weight and has to decide what she values more: what other people think and say about her OR what feels good to herself and what makes her happy, well, then the weight that comes after that is all intentional. She is helpless to give in when indulging is probably the best thing she’s ever felt in her entire life. Holy shit, it feels good to be full. It feels so good to stretch her abdominal muscles to their breaking point not from doing countless amounts of crunches until they spasm and ache but stretched to breaking as they try to keep all the food she stuffed down her hungry throat attached to her. Cramping. Heavy. Rounded. Full. Like, outrageously, illogically full. It feels so good.

And it’s an accident - just like how the first bit of weight came on before she decided to dive in head first to this whole idea - when after one of her stuffing sessions she slips into masturbating. It’s uncorrelated she tells herself after it’s over, jolted out of the haze of pleasure and gluttony panting, eyes shut, with her hand still resting over her pulsing, wet slit. Her whole body is on fire with embarrassment even though she’s the only one around. She just-

God.

Why had she done that? But also… when was the last time she let her own hands fall between her thighs to pleasure herself? When was the last time she felt pleasure in that way for pleasure’s sake rather than it being a part of a honey-pot mission? She can’t recall the last time. So, obviously, it’s been a long time coming. And based on how much of her newly retired life she spends full up to the brim with food… it only makes sense that she’d end up cracking when she was still panting, out of breath under her bloated, stuffed belly. When isn’t she in such a state, stuffed silly?

Right?

It has nothing to do with the tight ball of throbbing heat that overtakes her when she reaches that glorious point of being so packed full that she stops being able to lift her hands to her mouth. Her body quitting on her because it knows if it doesn’t she will just keep eating and eating and eating. Everyone feels that when they eat too much. The whole nauseous after eating too much thing is… a pop culture myth? (Right?) It feels glorious to glut for everyone.

Right?

Okay…

Fine.

Maybe they are tied together. Her masturbation habits and her eating habits that is.

Maybe…

Maybe, there’s something here, she tells herself when it happens again and again and again, lying on her bed, surrounded by food wrappers from both her pantry - chips and junk food of the like - and from the restaurant a block or two away from her apartment. She could’ve walked to pick up the food, but she didn’t. She paid extra for delivery (really extra so she wouldn’t have to pant as she slowly staggered her way there, working around her bloated gut). Also- there’s a two-liter somewhere around here too; the entirety of it bloating out her tight, tight stomach, bubbly and sloshy and delicious. A two-liter on top of a whole day's calories twice over. Jesus. All of it stuffed into her just in time for her not to drop into a food coma but perfectly in time for her to bend her arm around the swollen, pale mountain of her belly to get at her throbbing, wet center. It’s harder to do so these days, her capacity increased massively. But anyway, she was so ready to touch herself that it must’ve taken her a minute, tops, to get off. And, yes, okay, fiiine, she was getting off to the feeling of how bursting full she was.

She was and is getting off on it.

And she might get off again, shifting under her belly to feel the tight, heavy dome of it wobble and slosh, pinning her down. I’m so greedy. She whimpers at her own thoughts, and shivers, her fingers already dipping back into her wetness, spreading it around. I’m so full. So heavy and unable to stop stuffing myself. God. I can’t stop. I’m gonna get huge. I’m- I’m gonna get so, so fat. Natasha gasps, both at her thoughts and at the feeling of angling her hand, still working around the beach ball attached to her front, to slip her fingers inside of her throbbing pussy. Hell fucking yeah, she’s gonna get off on the feeling of being packed full of delicious food again. A complete glutton. In every sense of the word.

Later, after that realization that not everyone has this electric connection between food and sex, Natasha digs deeper into it…

Well, really, first she lets herself go even more. Without shame and with fully conscious knowledge of what she’s doing- Nat goes on a spree of all-day stuffings over multiple days, getting off to it as many times as she can. Constantly with one hand exploring the fat, round curve of her tummy where it sticks out further than her boobs while the other shovels food into her mouth. When she’s done eating, that hand moves down… slipping into her panties or just between her bare legs when she gets too full- okay, really, too fat to fit into even her most forgiving pair of underwear. And, fuck, does that feel naughty and fucking incredible in the best ways. She’s too fat. She’s outgrown her fucking panties. She forgot that could happen. It's never happened to her before.

With this exploration over three… four… five days she’s constantly munching, constantly packed full, and orgasming multiple upon multiple times during the day. Hell, on the night between the fourth and fifth day, she wakes up with her cunt wet and her tummy gurgling - gurgling as it tries to digest the colossal amounts of food she’s packed into it, but she pretends it’s gurgling out of hunger - and she waddles to the freezer to down the rest of the pint of ice cream that she couldn’t finish after her third dinner. Then. Then, still with the last swallow of ice cream in her mouth, lounging back in her bed like a spoiled queen, she dips her fingers into the puddle of wetness she’s made. So fucking hot over the new height of greed she’s reached; fingering herself until she comes with a yell. The darkness of the middle of the goddamn night only adds to the hotness, feverishly thinking, I’m so gluttonous. I can’t even get through the night without waking up to stuff my face. I can’t even get through the night without coming. I’m addicted. I’m addicted to this. To my fatness and greed.

Upon running out of literally anything to eat in her apartment, Natasha comes out of her fantastical delve into all things gluttonous. She comes out of the exploration and realizes-

None of her damn clothes fit other than the pair of sweats Maria Hill (her friend since they met in boot camp in the military) left the last time she slept over. Maria is a full five inches taller than her with a larger frame, fit to her taller height, and the waistband of the sweat pants is still viciously tight on Nat’s hugely bloated and fat (fatter every day 🥴) waist. And the only top that fits Nat is one of her hoodies that when shipped to her came in a way too big size. Way too big when she originally got it. Now… her belly presses tightly to the kangaroo pocket. She has no underwear that fits either, so when she goes out clothes and food shopping… she'll be going commando. 😳😳😳

She really, really wants someone else to do this whole stuffing, weight gain thing with. It’s really damn hard to keep going when she’s by herself! And she knows she could do better- she could get bigger if she had someone to help her...

The first realization is an easy enough fix, an expensive fix, but an easy enough fix.

The second realization takes her back to the internet, back to researching the feederism community… maybe she could pay someone to help her? God knows she has enough money to do it with the monetary compensation the good ol’ US government gave her to shut her up for the shit she’s done and not complain about any mental or physical blowback. But- there have to be, like, sex workers that wouldn’t mind helping Natasha out with her kink, right? Or maybe, she doubts it, but maybe she could get a hook-up that could help her? She knows this isn’t an out-in-the-open type kink though so… that second option is less likely. However, it’s the option she ends up getting to try because she finds a website specifically for kinky people. A hook-up/dating/networking sight. She searches by fetish. She finds lots of people that are willing to “play” with this fetish. This kink. Lots of people with listed limits and safewords and references. Lots of people looking for feedees. But the most interesting- the most appealing person she finds is Steve.

He’s one of the rare people that has a fully shown face, not just body pics or pics of their face but hidden with sunglasses, masks, hats, or whatever other creative thing people can come up with. Privacy, yeah, of course, Natasha gets that but…

She can’t help but lick her lips, staring at Steve’s handsome face. Hungry for him. Her eyes widen as she scrolls through his photos- they make her mouth water. He’s big. Not big like Natasha wants to get - not fat - but muscular. Obviously strong. Full body shots that look to be taken after the gym, sweaty and huge; she zooms in on his hands. She imagines his hard muscle against her softening body, his impossible abs against her ever-expanding gut, his big hands grabbing Natasha’s chin and her new double chin and forcing more food down her throat, helping her continue with her stuffing and helping her chew and petting her throat as she swallows, strong and dominating but encouraging too. Praising her for getting everything down. Petting her stomach when it aches after she’s eaten too much, both genuinely wanting to help her out but also wanting to tease her. He has two hands, one could be on her stomach and the other between her legs but… he uses both to massage her, at first. Then, oh god, Natasha’s thighs squeeze together as she imagines those thick, big fingers crooking inside her and rubbing her clit when she's so full already. She shuts her eyes, her blush burning hot on her cheeks. Fuck, she can’t imagine how much better gluttony and sex would be with this man.

She has to message him. It takes her nearly an hour to draft the perfect opening message. Then another hour to take her mind off of it, stuffing herself on top of what she’s already eaten throughout the day. (Not that her mind stays off of this stranger, Steve, because her thoughts circle right back to him when she gives in to the need to come. Whimpering, fantasizing about having to do so little work that her hands are tied to the bedposts and he’s sitting on her jiggly, soft, spread thighs, straddling them, feeding her and controlling a dildo he’s fucking in and out of her at the same time, telling her he’s going to stuff her and stuff her and stuff her, incrementally feeding her more and splitting her pussy open with bigger and bigger toys. He’s going to fill her more than she thought possible.)

Eventually, Steve messages back, saying all the right things, raising all the green flags even as he teases her- calling her first timer yet verifying that she actually wants this, she’s thought it through, treating her both respectfully and gently. He's more experienced than she is. Much more experienced.

They talk back and forth.

Talking through the site at first, then they exchange phone numbers and speak over the phone. At which point Steve tells her he loves her voice, saying he’s never met someone who sounds so husky and sensual in everyday life, like an old movie actress, voice rough from too many cigarettes. It makes her laugh and her heart flutter, excited for their instant chemistry and what it’ll translate to later…

Later but not too much later because it turns out they’re near in locations, so they pick a date soon. A test run at Natasha’s place. They’ll hook-up more if the first time goes well. Nat knows it will go well. She looks forward to blowing up.

Christ, she’s gonna get so fucking fat with Steve’s help…

(And, of course, they go from being just fetish-fuck-buddies to being lovers eventually because I said so lol. Everything is beautiful and nothing hurts. Natasha is fat and growing and Steve is a great doting but also domineering boyfriend.)

Enjoy the filth!! I went a little off topic from your prompt 🤭 I hope that's okay lol

#mylevisdontfitanymore #text #belly kink #stuffing #weight gain #bloating #feedee natasha #chubby natasha #fat natasha #natasha romanoff #natasha romanov #steve rogers #romanogers #stevenat #ask #fic rec #fanfiction recommendation

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yourenotdonefighting · 1 year

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In my Romanogers feels

I'm feeling particularly angsty and nostalgic today, so here's a repost of one of my recent Steve x Natasha fics, "When a Minute Lasts Forever".

“See you in a minute,” followed by a confident, closed-lipped grin that he returned without a second thought.

Her smile, the last one she ever gave to him, would be imprinted on his brain until the day he stopped breathing. The smile that had him convinced that he would, in fact, see her in just a minute.

He didn’t, though. He never would again. And that was something Steve still couldn’t reconcile. He wasn’t sure if he’d ever understand how to live in a world where Natasha Romanoff was dead.

#romanogers #steve x natasha #natasha x steve #captain america #black widow #natasha romanoff #steve rogers #marvel mcu #i'm feeling angsty #ao3 #stevenat #fic repost #writer things #i miss them #see queue in a minute

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wannaliveattheholidayinn · 2 years

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this is a bit of an odd question, but does anyone happen to have a copy of that three-chapter fic that was a sequel to Sirens by thegraytigress? i know she deleted all her works a few years back, and though I've been able to find just about every other romanogers fanfic she'd done, i cannot find this one

#thegraytigress #genuinely still not over any of her fanfics. i spent every moment that i wasn't reading the heart of the storm series thinking about it #i still think about cloud cover #and i remember this fic pretty well too. the first chapter was natasha finding out she pregnant/something along those lines #the second was the rescue mission #and the third was the surgery where wanda had to telepathically remove the bullet. and vision was there #idk i liked it a lot when i read it. i'd really like to re-read it #anyways #romanogers #stevenat #romanogers fanfic #mcu fanfic

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kryptoniancape · 1 year

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What Comes After, Book II — Chapter 14: Proxima

A familiar face helps Natasha decipher the meaning behind her visions.

#romanogers #stevenat #capwidow #my fics

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luna-rainbow · 1 year

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Got curious about fandom trends so pulled some data from AO3.

Like a good scientist, going to start with Limitations:

Polyships not included. Ships list is also by no means exhaustive.

Not filtered for OTP:true so same fic may feature multiple ships that may not be the endgame

Also doesn't reflect which ship is centered in the fic as opposed to mentions

Obviously deleted fics won't turn up in the count, but it would be interesting to know real historical numbers for these fandoms

Quite a few fics have been backdated, given AO3 was only launched in 2009 and several fics are marked pre-2009. It's possible other fics have also been backdated but I think the numbers are small enough to be non significant.

I did not filter out between MCU and Marvel comics for the ships

(Addit for something new I noticed) Fics that have been updated on 2023 will disappear from earlier numbers i.e. if a fic was started in 2022 but is still being published in 2023, it will not show up in 2022 numbers.

As always, keep in mind AO3 has relatively higher slash ships than other fanfic sites

AO3 doesn't necessarily reflect the size of the fandom, only how many people write for the fandom on AO3 (duh). Other activity - discussions, meta, fanart etc doesn't always correlate to fic production.

RIGHT axis scale applies to the MCU area only - this is the overall number of fics being written for the MCU over the years.

Observations:

Stucky took a while to catch attention. In 2011 when CATFA came out, there was only 61 fics, but that jumped to ~400 and ~600 for the following 2 years.

Avengers (2012) made Stony into one of the first juggernaut ships of the MCU with around 3000 fics that year.

2014 CATWS vaulted Stucky into the stratosphere, going from less than 600 fics in 2013 to just shy of 6000 in 2014. SamBucky and SteveSam both started then, but SteveSam was the bigger ship at the time (500 vs 150 fics)

2016 CACW gave a boost to both Stucky and Stony, as well as a boost to SamBucky.

Curiously, SteveSam did not receive the same boost from the movie, and its numbers dropped in following years and stayed around 300

AC, starting in 2015, gave the first real boost to Steggy. Prior to this its numbers stayed around 200, with a small uptick in 2014 with CATWS to 400.

Clearly, lots of people were happy/unhappy/had things to say about EG, because that was when Stucky, Steggy and Stony all peaked, while SamBucky also had a big boost. This peak is also mirrored in the overall number of MCU fics produced

Big spike for SamBucky as expected from TFATWS in 2021, nearly breaking 5000 and overtaking Stony for the year

2021 was also the peak for overall number of MCU fics per year, which I wonder if it's partially due to Covid lockdown. Other franchises released that year were Loki, Black Widow, Shangchi, Eternals and Spiderman.

SteveNat and BuckyNat have stayed fairly constant ships (of around 500 fics/year) with a small boost from each movie. Staron has remained a small with around 100 fics a year.

#mcu #fandom history #stucky #stony #sambucky #fandom stats

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bucky-fricking-barnes · 1 year

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Wild (4/4)

Pairing: Lycanthrope!Bucky x Reader

Word Count: 3.8k

Warnings: Hinted SteveNat

Summary: Over the years, Y/N has found that in times of great need, a wolf appears to aid her. She relies on its presence until one day, her wolf is in need of her help instead.

A/N: This is the final part of the Wild miniseries. I hope you’ve enjoyed it and that this fluff is the perfect little cherry on top for you. There’s a little bit of Russian in this and the translations can be found at the end of the fic. Thank you for reading and supporting me! Dividers by @firefly-graphics

Previous Part | Miniseries Masterlist

“Good morning, Маленький,” Bucky murmurs, and you groan when he nudges his nose against your cheek, not wanting to let go of your dream. He chuckles, his breath soft and warm over your skin, and you scrunch up your face before reluctantly opening your eyes.

Morning sunshine filters in through your bedroom curtains, but Bucky’s body and the long brown hair hanging down like a second curtain blocks most of it. He’s propped a few inches over you and smiling. Though you’re tired, it only takes a second for you to smile back at him.

“Good morning, my love,” you reply. Your own voice scratches with sleep but he doesn’t mind. Bucky never minds, not as long as it’s you.

“Do we have plans today?” He shifts positions, staying over you but giving you room to rearrange the blankets and get comfortable again now that you’re awake. Or rather, now that you’re half-awake. “I want to go for a run.”

Humming gently, you reach up and cup his cheek in your hand, rubbing his cheek with your thumb. “It’s been a while since we’ve run together, hasn’t it? Work keeps you busy.”

“And you,” Bucky replies. “And you’ve been spending a lot of time with Nat lately.”

You grin. “Is that jealousy I hear?”

It is, you can sense it through your shared bond, and you squeal when his irritation flares at your teasing. Bucky flips you, blankets and all. You settle on top of him with a grin, your legs straddling his waist with the comforter in between you. His hands slide up your thighs to your hips to help keep you steady.

“Run with me today?” he prods.

A knock cuts your answer short before it’s even started, and both you and Bucky look towards the door. You hadn’t been listening to anything outside your happy little bubble, but you know it’s Natasha. Even with Bucky now living in the cottage, you never have any visitors, especially not early in the morning.

“Y/N, Bucky, are you awake?” Natasha asks when nobody answers. She shifts her weight from one foot to the other and her spoon clinks against her mug.

You shake your head to get rid of the extra thoughts clouding your brain. Having enhanced senses is normally a wonderful thing, but it still overwhelms you after waking up each day. Sometimes even the tiniest of sounds and smells are enough to overstimulate you. Bucky squeezes your hips in sympathy. He knows all about the adjustments you’ve had to make in your life since finding out you were lycan. Some of them are small, like the enhanced senses, but others are larger, like sharing an emotional bond with him. You may be connected on a deeper level than most couples, but you’re still a relatively new couple. There are times where you want nothing more than to bury yourself in a hole after profusely embarrassing yourself in front of him, and nothing he can do makes it better.

“We’re awake!” you call back, sliding off Bucky’s hips. He groans in protest, making you chuckle, and you head over to open the door. You shiver once you’re away from the warmth of the bed and you make a mental note to turn down the air conditioning in your room—you and Bucky run hotter than Natasha, so you keep a window unit to add some extra chill now that it’s summer. He must have gotten up in the middle of the night to turn down the temperature, making it extra cold in your room.

When you open the door, Natasha is, predictably, dressed for the day with a cup of coffee in hand. She smells like sweat and you know even without your enhanced senses that she’s already been for her morning run through the forest. You’ve shown her all the best trails and Bucky has joined in on carving out the paths for her during your own nightly runs, as infrequent as they’ve become lately.

“You might want to get dressed,” Nat says, not even bothering to greet you. Her expression is grave and your face falls. “There’s someone here to see you.”

“Me?” you ask. “Who?”

She shakes her head and her gaze shifts over your shoulder to look at Bucky, then back at you. “Both of you.”

You know Bucky can feel your anxiety before you’re even aware it’s there, but as you nod and shut the door again, you can sense his own. He’s normally the person who steadies you and the feeling is odd. Forcing away a comment about it, you turn to get clothes, not meeting his eyes.

“Y/N?” Bucky says. You pull open the top drawer of your dresser and pull out a shirt. “Y/N, can you look at me?”

Reluctantly, you turn slightly and lift your head to peer at him. He stands beside the bed, watching you.

“What?” you ask.

“We don’t know who it is. Maybe it’s something good,” Bucky suggests, and you shake your head.

“No one comes to see us here, James.” He stands a little straighter when you use his real name. “Not unless they want something or it’s bad news. The last time someone came here to see me, it was to ask me more questions about HYDRA.”

“Do you think they might be back?” Bucky closes the distance between you to pull clothes from the dresser as well, though he gives you space to change out of your pajamas.

You shake your head again, then lean down to pull the rest of your outfit from the other drawers. “I don’t know. Maybe. I can’t think of anything I haven’t told them, with the exception of you, and I’d never tell them about what they did to you, not in a million years.”

The two of you fall silent as you dress. Once you’re ready, you head out to the living room together, where Nat is standing near the front door with her mug. She’s watching the porch through the windows. Whoever came to call on you is standing off to the side, just out of view from where you’re standing. Her lips are pressed together in irritation and worry, and you try not to let it rile you up.

“Did they say who they are?” Bucky asks. He reaches down to take your hand and you let him lace your fingers together.

Natasha glances over and shakes her head. “No. He didn’t want to talk to me. He said he’d wait outside until the two of you were ready to talk.”

You frown. “It’s 90 degrees outside. They really didn’t want to come in?”

She shrugs. “I tried. I wasn’t going to force a stranger to come into our home if they didn’t want to, not unless it was an emergency.”

Outside on the porch, the stranger moves, standing from the swing and blocking some of the light coming in through the windows. Their shadow shifts across the living room floor and in that moment, Bucky tenses. He lets go of your hand, shoulders past Nat, and barges out the front door. He pauses for a moment just outside the doorway.

“Steve?” he asks, and your heart lurches. Only seconds later, your mate is released from his shock and he charges forward to hug the other man.

You murmur your own surprise and carefully move past Natasha as well, tentatively stepping out on the porch. The birds are already chirping and swooping down to eat from the bird feeder you’d hung on the tree in the front yard a few weeks ago. With the summer sun shining high in the sky and the grass lush and green, it’s an idyllic scene for Bucky and Steve’s reunion. You’ve heard a lot about their friendship. Bucky has told you story after story of their escapades as kids, and even some after they’d grown up. You can’t count the number of nights you’ve fallen asleep to those stories.

“How are you here?” Bucky finally asks as he pulls away. “I thought…” He keeps Steve within arm’s reach as you watch from a distance, giving them space until he’s ready to introduce you.

“I was looking for other lycans. I heard about a community of them near New York, but it turned out to be a trap. Once I got away, I wasn’t able to travel. I needed time to heal, so I laid low until I thought it would be safe. Then I had to track you down.” Steve chuckles and squeezes Bucky’s arm. “You were hard to find, pal, though I suppose you’ve got a good reason for that. Hi.” He looks over your mate’s shoulder and meets your eyes, a small, knowing smile on his face. It’s fond, but you still feel your cheeks grow warm at the acknowledgement.

Bucky turns and smiles wide when he sees you. He holds out a hand and you close the distance between you, lacing your fingers together again.

“Y/N, this is Steve, my best friend. Steve, this is Y/N, my mate.”

The final word holds a quiet emphasis that only lycans and their companions know. Steve’s eyebrows raise slightly as he holds out his hand for you to shake.

“It’s nice to meet you, Y/N. I hope this punk’s been good to you,” he says.

You laugh and shake his hand. “He has. I’m glad I finally get to put a face to the name. I’ve heard a lot about you.”

“Only good things I hope?” Steve asks. He glances over at Bucky, who only shrugs. He’s grinning, though, and neither you nor Steve are surprised by the unapologetic expression.

The breeze blows through the yard, making heat prickle across your skin as the chimes hung near the porch steps play. You squeeze Bucky’s hand.

“I know we’ve only just been introduced, but I want to tell you that seeing you as a lion was probably one of the strangest moments of my life. I’m not sure if knowing that you weren’t a normal lion would’ve made it better or worse,” you tell him.

Steve seems surprised and he looks between you and Bucky. “We’ve met before?”

Slipping an arm around your waist, Bucky presses a kiss to the top of your head and replies for you. “Only once. You want coffee, Steve? Or something to eat? It’s getting hot out.”

Steve nods. You and Bucky lead him to the kitchen, where Natasha is sitting in her normal seat at the kitchen table with her coffee. She casts you all a cursory glance before going back to the newspaper crossword. While she looks entirely uninterested in what’s happening, you know she’s listening, so you quickly interrupt her charade to make introductions.

“Nat, this is Steve, Bucky’s friend. Steve, this is my friend, Natasha. She’s trustworthy, even if she doesn’t always look at it.” You gesture between the two of them before continuing into the main part of the kitchen, but you watch out of the corner of your eye as they exchange polite smiles and a handshake. Their hands linger a moment longer than necessary and you shoot Bucky a look.

He shakes his head, a teasing look in his eyes. “Don’t try anything,” he whispers. “Just get to know him first before you try and set him up with Nat.”

“Oh, come on!” you hiss.

He shakes his head again. “You don’t know as well as I do. I don’t want you to blame yourself if it doesn’t work out.”

“Is your girl already scheming, Bucky? I can see why you get along.”

Steve’s voice from behind startles you, and Bucky rubs a soothing hand over the slope of your back when you tense. It’s strange to have another person in your tiny home, especially someone so large and with such a booming voice. He may be kind and genuine in nature, but it was still an intrusion, at least right now. You’d forgotten that he, unlike Nat, can hear almost everything you say.

“You still drink your coffee with a little cream and sugar?” Bucky asks, and Steve nods in response.

Bucky maintains physical contact with you when you stop by the counter so he can pour three cups of coffee, whether with his hand, elbow, arm, or hip. You don’t move away even when you know your presence is an inconvenience to the process. Besides, even if you wanted to, Bucky would protest and pull you back. He likes having you near and you’re not going to complain.

You watch in silence as Bucky prepares your drink first, then slides it in front of you. Smiling softly, you pick it up for a sip, then give him your nod of approval. His expression softens and he smiles again. It’s your smile, the one he gives only to you when he’s basking in your presence after a long day or when he particularly feels the deep love and appreciation your connection as mates provides. Steve can’t bring out that smile, only you. Lycans can’t fly, but you certainly feel like you can now that Bucky’s looked at you like that.

When he goes back to making his and Steve’s cups, you glance over at the kitchen table, where the other lycan has sat down across from Nat. She’s pointedly ignoring him as she works on the crossword, and you can tell even without knowing him long that he’s trying to figure her out. Part of you wants to tell him that he never will, but most of you wants to watch him try.

With the two coffees in hand, Bucky breaks contact with you and heads over to the kitchen table. You take your time, gathering up breakfast as he gives Steve one of the mugs and leans against the end of the counter.

“You and Y/N met back in the city, after I first found you again,” Bucky explains.

A beat passes before Steve asks, “The girl from the alley? That’s you?”

You glance over and nod, smiling a little. “That’s me. You were definitely a surprise that day. It’s not every day you see a lion in the middle of the city.”

If you hadn’t known her better, you wouldn’t have noticed Nat’s pencil faltering slightly as she writes in an answer, but you see it out of the corner of your eye. She’s dying of curiosity inside, you know she is. She knows, however, that asking a lycan about their animal form is impolite, especially if you’re a human, which means she won’t ask until she’s got you alone. Nat’s smart enough not to get mixed up in something she doesn’t understand if it can easily be solved by cornering someone and grilling them for answers later on.

Steve laughs and takes a sip of the coffee, then gives Bucky an appreciative nod. “I didn’t realize you were lycan, Y/N. Usually we can tell right away, but you seemed fully human,” he says.

“I didn’t realize I was lycan then, either,” you explain as you plate the breakfast you’ve scrapped together for you and Bucky. Natasha has left out a plate of pancakes and you carry that, as well as the other plate, over to the table. You slide the pancakes over to Steve. “Do you want syrup?”

He nods and you turn to get it, gesturing with one hand towards the second plate on the table.

“Go ahead and eat, James.”

“Are you sure?” he asks, and you nod, kissing him on the cheek.

“I’m sure. I’ll find something later if I need it.” You get the syrup, picking up your coffee from the counter on the way back, and then settle in the seat Bucky has left empty for you. “To answer your question, Steve, I didn’t realize I was lycan until I shifted in my sleep one night after Bucky started living here. I woke up as a wolf and Bucky was quick to explain most things that went along with the discovery.”

“You let him live with you even though he was a lycan?” Steve asks, surprised.

Bucky reaches over your shoulder to set the plate down in front of you. More than half the food is gone. “They didn’t know I was a lycan,” he answers. “Y/N and Natalia saved my life. I kept my identity a secret until after Y/N shifted, and then I realized why I felt so drawn to her all those times.”

There’s a wide grin on Steve’s face as he sets down his fork and knife. The pancakes are already demolished. Lycans eat fast, but Steve seems to be quicker than normal. That or he was just incredibly hungry. If he’s anything like Bucky, he’ll soon be eating you out of house and home. One lycan means some extra groceries, two means an extra trip a week, but three? You can’t imagine the amount of food you’ll be going through if he stays any longer than today.

“Drawn to her? You wouldn’t shut up about her for months before we ran into her in that alley, and it was even worse after,” he says. “Drawn to her’s a bit of an understatement.”

“Punk,” Bucky huffs, and you laugh. He leans down and wraps his arms around your shoulders from up above, and you hold onto his arms with one hand while you eat with the other.

“I thought your name was Natasha. Is it Natalia or Natasha?” Steve asks, addressing Nat for the first time since entering the room.

She looks up, her face neutral. “И я думал, что у тебя никогда не хватит смелости заговорить со мной.”

Bucky chokes and sputters as he attempts to hold in his laughter. He presses his face into your hair, and even you have to duck your head to hide your smile. Your Russian’s gotten much better with two speakers in the house, if only out of necessity. Poor Steve looks obviously confused, and you feel a little bit bad for enjoying his misery.

This time, Nat leans forward over the table, crushing her crossword against the wood. Steve’s drawn into her web, a hopeful expression replacing the confusion as she raises her eyebrows.

“Do you like to read, Steve?” she asks, and he nods, then shakes his head.

“I do, but I don’t. I like art more. Sketching, mostly. The only thing I like to read is classic novels, but those are harder to carry around than a single sketchpad,” he answers. He’s babbling. It’s endearing, and you and Natasha exchange a split-second glance before she turns back to him.

She hums in approval and then sits up straight again, picking up her pencil. “If you’re staying in town, you can borrow some of my books. I’ve got stacks in my room.” She points towards the hallway with her eraser, her smile softening from sly to friendly. “And I’d love to see some of your sketches.”

Steve practically melts under Natasha’s warmed gaze and you tilt your head back to look up at Bucky.

“I told you so,” you murmur.

“We’ll see,” he whispers back, then leans down to kiss you on the forehead. “You wanna go for a run later? With Steve?”

You hum and smile at him. “If you’ll have me. I don’t want to get in the way if you want time to catch up…”

Bucky shakes his head and straightens, then grabs your hand and leads you to stand. He pulls you closer until your noses are almost touching and your eyelids flutter at the proximity.

“You’re never in the way. I’ll run with you till my legs fall off.”

Movement at the table makes you take a sudden step away, cheeks warm. Even though Steve knows you and Bucky are mates, it still feels wrong to be flaunting your relationship right in front of him. Bucky is his best friend, after all. You don’t want to make him uncomfortable, not so soon after their reunion. You’d do so many things just to get him to stay. You never want him to leave Bucky’s life ever again.

“It’s okay,” Steve quickly reassures you, his smile genuine. “You can be yourselves around me, I promise. Just because Bucky’s my friend doesn’t mean I don’t expect you to act like his mate when I’m around. I’ve lived with other lycans almost my whole life. I know how these things work.”

Sheepishly, you nod and step back into Bucky’s personal space. His arms immediately encircle you and you try to relax at his touch.

“If it’s okay with you guys, I’d like to get a lay of the land. I’m not going to intrude on your space, but I was thinking of getting a place nearby…” Steve trails off. He looks out the glass sliding doors at the neat rows of vegetables, herbs, and flowers that the three of you planted earlier that spring. They’re growing well, thankfully.

“We were just talking about that,” Bucky replies. “We planned on going for a run today anyway. Y/N and I can show you all the best spots.”

Natasha stands from her seat as well, the crossword and pencil in one hand and her empty mug in the other. “You know, Lucas mentioned that Joseph’s cabin by the river is for sale. Maybe you could take Steve down that way. I’m sure I can get him a showing tomorrow if he wants.”

Joseph Cherub’s old log cabin is nestled in the thicker part of the forest less than a ten minute walk away. It hasn’t been occupied in years, not since the owners moved to the city, but it’s in good shape. The owners paid a local to drive out and keep up the property, especially when the weather is bad. Not only is the cabin near the river, but there’s an area for a small garden. Steve would be able to fish and grow his own food, if he wanted.

The little cabin is close enough that it would allow the three of you to meet up and run together. You would have another lycan nearby—one who’d been a part of your past, no less—and it would be Bucky’s dearest friend. There’s no better combination than that. Plus, if Steve moved into the cabin, Nat would be able to see him a lot more.

“No viewing needed,” Steve answers, shaking his head, and your smile falls. “I’m good at fixing things, and if Bucky vouches for it, then it’s fine.” He looks pointedly at his best friend, and you lift your gaze to look at Bucky as well.

After a moment, Bucky nods, then smiles wide. You grin too.

“Looks like we’re neighbors again, Stevie,” Bucky teases, and you laugh. He gives your waist an affectionate squeeze at the sound.

Steve groans. “Don’t call me that.”

Translations:

Маленький = Little One

И я думал, что у тебя никогда не хватит смелости заговорить со мной. = And I thought you’d never have the balls to speak to me again.

Thank you for reading! If you liked this, please consider reblogging my work so that others can enjoy it too.

I do not consent to have my work posted, translated, or published to any third party site or app. If anyone sees my work anywhere other than my personal tumblr, Patreon, or ao3 accounts, it has been reposted without my permission.

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Forever Tags: @aya-fay

Bucky Barnes Tags: @lipstickandvibranium @valhalla-kristin @buckymcbuckbarnes

Wild Tags: @mylifeofcalculatedchaos

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9tzuyu · 2 years

Text

crush

note: every single stevenat stan i’ve ever interacted with has been lesbophobic so fuck them and that nasty ass ship. this ones for @starsvck and the lesbians + lesbian nat stannies.

natasha is a lesbian now go cry about it.

req: bae comfort fic w reader and nat where reader comes out as a lesbian after struggling w their sexuality for so long <333 ur so slay and ily

warnings: internalized lesbophobia, but it gets better ‹3 semi-proofread.

🏷: @c-is-writing my beloved

. . .

most of your life you spent being jealous of everyone who could have a crush on a boy. you wanted to feel that desire to want a boy or a man. and you tried as you got older, but it only ever resulted in awkward dates and uncomfortable, half-assed makeout sessions.

being with a man never felt right to you, and it never would feel right. you knew it wasn't wrong, but it was so much easier to say you liked women than it was to accept the fact that you would never be attracted to a man.

you only told your closest friends. none of them had a problem with it, but you also knew none of them would understand the way you felt. it didn't matter if they were straight, bisexual or any other sexuality, they would never understand how isolating it is to be a lesbian. the weight of that had been on your heart for as long as you could remember.

now you were 24 living in a cheap apartment alone. life was okay, but you still struggled to accept such an important part of yourself.

bumping into natasha didn't help, especially not when you hadn't seen her since high school.

"y/n?" her green eyes scanned over your body and you blushed under her gaze.

"that's me," you mumbled shyly.

you'd always had a tiny crush on the woman, she was the very definition of the word gorgeous. all throughout high school you tried to suppress it. clearly that didn't work out too well because natasha could still make you turn into mush whenever she was around.

"i almost didn't recognize you! you've changed so much since i last saw you. not- not that it's a bad thing of course," she rushed out.

you weren't quite sure how to respond to the woman, so you just offered a small nod of the head.

"it's good seeing you, natasha."

"wait! don't go just yet. here," she reached into her back pocket to pull out her phone. "type in your number."

"i'm sorry?" you were taken back by the request.

natasha smiled, "go on, type in your number. we can meet for coffee or lunch or something. are you busy tomorrow?"

you fumbled with natasha's phone in your hands, carefully typing out each digit before triple checking for any mistakes.

"i don't think so."

natasha visibly brightened. "great. i'll text you the details, see you tomorrow y/n!"

you made you way back to your apartment with uncertainty on your mind.

it was always confusing when a girl would ask you to go out. you were never sure if they meant it in a friendly matter or as a date. every time you thought about it though, you wanted to roll your eyes at all the missed opportunities you had because they probably thought you weren't interested.

. . .

the next morning you awoke to a text from natasha.

'see you at the coffee shop on fourth. 12 o'clock. don't be late ;).'

her message formed a smile on your face and all of a sudden you felt like you were in high school again.

you had a little over two hours to get ready. it was perfect timing. you had just enough room to shower, pick an outfit and leave while being right on time.

everything felt fine until you remembered exactly what you were doing and how you've always felt about natasha. the familiar feeling of shame crept into the back of your mind. nonetheless, you grabbed your keys and drove to the coffee shop on fourth street, just like the redhead told you to.

11:57.

you sighed, already feeling slight regret. there was no way you could go inside. not when natasha romanoff was in there waiting for you. she truly was the most beautiful woman you'd ever seen, how could you ever compete?

12:01.

shoving your nerves aside, you shut off your car, closing the door before making your way in.

natasha wasn't hard to miss. her fiery red hair and piercing green eyes could be spotted miles away. she looked at you with her signature smirk.

"you're one minute late."

"sorry, got stuck in traffic." you mumbled sheepishly.

"or perhaps you spent five or so minutes in your car before actually coming in." you shrugged, biting back the 'pretty women make me nervous' line.

"i hope you like lattes, i got you chai." she pointed to the cup on the left of her.

"i do. chai is one of my favorites, thank you."

"you're still just as shy as you were in high school," she giggled. "also not a bad thing."

"maybe not a bad thing to you," you responded, taking a sip of your drink. "i kind of hate it."

natasha gasped, a playful look of shock written all over her face. "nuh uh. don't hate it, it's one of the things that made you stand out to me when we were younger."

you frowned, "what do you mean?"

"i mean you were already beautiful. i found a lot of girls to be beautiful, but they were always so annoying in some way or another. stacy, you remember her? she had a bad habit of interrupting me every single time i went to speak. and abigail? she had a thing for never wanting to date lesbians for some weird reason. and of course there were other things about girls in high school, but there was never anything about you that ever rubbed me the wrong way."

your mind froze, "s-so does that mean you're..."

she smirked once more, "a lesbian? yeah. i don't think anything about me screams 'i love men,' do you?"

"not at all."

after that day you began to feel a little more relaxed around natasha. she texted you more often, always having something planned for the both of you to do.

you weren't 100 percent sure as to what you were to each other. she would flirt a lot, do things that only a girlfriend would do, and yet you still couldn't tell if she was just being friendly. the frustration only made you hate yourself even more.

this went on for a few months until one night when you were with natasha everything came spilling out.

you had your head in her lap as you watched some random movie, her fingers tracing shapes on your side.

you couldn't focus though.

"something on your mind?"

god natasha had grown to read you so easily.

"do you ever wish you weren't the way you are?" her finger movements paused.

"what do you mean?"

"like, you know… do you ever wish you weren't gay?"

"a lesbian?" she corrected. "and no, i don't. not anymore."

"i wish i wasn't sometimes." you whispered so softly natasha almost missed it.

"you can say it, you know. it's not a dirty word. you are not a dirty word."

"i just wish i could be like the rest of the world. i wish i liked men sometimes, i wish i could go on dates with them, i wish i could find myself attracted to them. i wish i didn't feel so alone. why did i have to be the only sexuality that can't like men? it's so infuriating to see everyone else happy and embraced when you're not."

natasha hummed, bringing you closer into her hold ever so slightly. "maybe you're just not meant to like men. maybe you're the way you are because it's what makes you special. being a lesbian isn't and never will be a bad thing. it doesn't matter how many times you get silenced, shoved away or disregarded. being a lesbian is such an ethereal, unforgettable thing. it's something to be celebrated, not changed."

there was a beat of silence before you finally managed to come up with something to say.

"you make me happy to be a lesbian."

"oh?"

"yeah."

"well you should always be happy to be a lesbian."

you sat up from her lap, feeling brave for the first time in your life. "i have something to tell you."

natasha already had an idea of what you were about to say. she'd been waiting for this for awhile now, but she wanted you to figure things out on your own time. she wanted you to be comfortable enough with yourself, and now you're right where you needed to be.

"i've had a crush on you since high school." you admitted shyly.

natasha raised her eyebrow, "are you implying that you still have a crush on me?"

"i am."

"well let me tell you a little something, i like you too." she smirked, fully taking in your nervous state.

"really?"

"i have for awhile. why do you think i told you that stuff when we had coffee all those months ago?"

“i wasn’t sure how to interpret what you were telling me,” you giggled.

natasha’s nodded, letting her eyes dart to your lips. “well it was definitely a hint. can i kiss you now?”

your breath caught in your throat.

“yeah, sure. uh go ahead-”

her lips were softer than you ever imagined them to be. so was the touch of her hands as she cupped your face.

she only deepened the kiss when you opened your mouth, granting the access she craved so dearly.

it wasn’t long before you needed to pull away for air.

“sorry… i haven’t done this in awhile. i’m sure you can tell.”

“no apologies necessary. i enjoyed every second of it.” natasha confirmed, brushing her thumb across your lips.

“me too,” you admitted. “can we do it again? just a little slower this time?”

“of course. we go at your pace, okay?”

“how long have you wanted to kiss me?” you questioned, breath shaky from adrenaline.

“quite some time now, sweetheart.” natasha didn’t hesitate to answer.

you swallowed, “show me then.”

“you got it, kitten.”

#natasha romanoff x reader #black widow x reader #avengers x reader #natasha x reader #lesbian #<333 #scarlett johansson x reader

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