i love when bucky’s being silly and natasha’s just looks at him like “this is where i have laid my affections smh” but she loves him so much and bucky just walks around with a *u* face all day when he’s around nat like he cant even believe how lucky he is :’)))
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never even realized how lost i was without her, but i always was. just some lost soldier who forgot even had a home until she gave me one.
never even realized how lost i was without her, but i always was. just some lost soldier who forgot he even had a home until she gave me one.
YOU ARE VERY WELCOME.
marchingjaybird theorized that Nat would be having a really, REALLY hard time growing accustomed to the fact that the man she had loved so much was back, but it wasn’t him anymore, and Bucky just couldn’t deal with that.
So in a drunken stupor, and you know that’s gotta be a lot of booze, Clint and Bucky devise a plan to break into the Smithsonian and steal the Hope Diamond, because if Buck brings that back to Nat, she’s gotta know he’s still her man.
Plus Clint keeps saying something about how the old lady threw it into the ocean at the end of ‘Titanic’ so Bucky figures yeah, it’s gotta be special.
So they hijack one of the few Quinjets that Tony bought from the government after SHIELD took a shit and died, hit up DC, and make a fuckin’ mess of things. They’re the opposite of stealthy, Bucky completely forgets the diamond, and Clint hoofs it out of there with an armful of dinosaur bones. Because dinosaurs are cool. And Bruce would like them. Because science.
So they’re stuck in a tree outside of the Museum of Natural History when Cap, Nat and Sam finally catch up with them. Steve is so dissapointed, Sam tries to get the bones from Clint which dissolves into a screaming match and so many double-entendres, and Nat…
Nat looks at the idiot in the domino mask with the metal arm and figures she could probably learn to love this lost soul, too.
I’ve been watching Natasha in action since the 1950s, but she never fails to amaze me. Such graceful beauty. So beautifully efficient.
But you’re the only one who understands that.
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hottiemcgreeneyes said:BuckyNat where he trains her during their days in the Red Room
"Haunt Me - Steve/Bucky/Nat"
“A ghost, you said.”
Steve takes another drink, wishes he could feel it flood through his veins, wishes he could get out of his head for once. “A ghost, and it turns out to be him.”
Natasha huffs out a sigh and shakes her head. Her eyes are trained forward on the wall, unflinching. “There was no way you could have known, Steve,” she says, and her voice is quiet.
“Under my damn nose for three days.” He shakes his head, bites out a bitter laugh.
Steve raises his bottle to his lips and remembers the first time he saw Bucky drunk. How red his face was, how loudly he laughed, how he tasted like cheap beer even after he wiped his mouth and got up off his knees.
“Dwelling on the past won’t fix anything, Steve,” Natasha says. “I know you’re doing it, it’s written plain on your face.”
“You didn’t know Bucky,” he says, more forcefully than he means to. “You didn’t know him like I did.” He takes a breath, brushes his hand over his face. He’s not being fair to her, he knows that, but he can’t help but nurse the anger in his heart.
A few moments pass by in silence. Natasha finally replies, voice quiet but forceful, “Believe it or not, Rogers, you’re not the only one who lost him.”
Steve quirks up an eyebrow, turns to look at Natasha. She’s looking down at her feet. For once in all the time that he’s known her, she looks like she’s not trying to hide something from him. “I didn’t know.”
She shrugs. “Trained with him during my Red Room days. He was always there for me.”
Steve nods, considering. The timing adds up, from what he’s read from Bucky’s file. “So you, uh—” He clears his throat, gives Natasha a look, “You were together?”
“For a number of years.” Natasha turns to look at him. Her green eyes are focused, as if on a target. “For once, I got used to sharing a bed with someone that I chose for myself.”
Steve swallows, but lets himself nod. He can’t help it, he’s feeling the phantom strains of jealousy. But it makes sense, Bucky and Natasha. He can imagine it all too well. She’s Bucky’s type, for sure.
He lets himself look at her. Natasha is beautiful, sure. Steve’s always seen it, her curves and lines and the way she swings her hips as she walks, that hard stare that always manages to crawl right under his skin. But here and now, she seems soft. Bare, almost, and Steve thinks he could reach out and touch her if he wanted to.
He still wishes he was drunk.
“I know what he meant to you,” she says. Her voice is hushed. “I felt something similar. But dwelling on your hurt won’t help you. And it sure as hell won’t help James. We’ve got to give him some time.”
Steve shakes his head. “So what have I got in the meantime?” he asks. His gaze lingers a little too long on her lips. He imagines Bucky kissing them, and wonders what they would feel like under his thumb.
Natasha scoots closer, eyes never leaving Steve’s. “As cheesy as it sounds—a friend?”
Natasha offers Steve her hand.
Steve takes it.
He was the one who would always have her back, not because he thought she needed any help, but simply because it made her happy.
She was the one who always found him in his darkest moments and understood. She didn’t try to rationalize it, didn’t try to belittle it, she just accepted all the worst… and stood next to him anyway.
In the end, they’d always find their way back.
Commission of Steve/Tony and Bucky/Nat on a double date at a Pancake House. I was way too happy to draw this for the fabulous Thyrza.
Half a stack of commissions down, half to go. Ya’ll are killing me! And I love it. How I love it.
who is the big spoon/little spoon
Bucky. Surprising, I know. Nat usually wakes up at some point and shoves him only his back, and then sprawls out across his chest, because damn that arm is hard to sleep on.
what is their favorite non-sexual activity
Borsht-off? Honestly, it’s training. Nat straps on her web boots and sits up on the wall, and just watches. There’s an effortlessness to the way Bucky moves that she just adores, can’t get enough of. Clint is twitchy, Steve is all power, but Bucky moves like a killer. She loves that.
who uses all the hot water in the morning
Bucky. No matter how hot the water, no matter how long he stands under the spray, he can’t get the ice out of his bones. The only thing that warms him up is feeling Nat’s lips on the back of his neck.
what they order from take out
They have a system worked out. Bucky slings his arm back over the couch, thrashes his hand around, and whatever menu he manages to fish out first? That’s what they get.
what is the most trivial thing they fight over
'James, your hand is cold.' 'You like it.' 'No, I don't. If I wanted metal inside of me, I would open the box under the bed. I want your hand on me.’ ‘It’s all me, Nat.’ ‘Oh look, it’s 4am. I’m going for a run.’ ‘Nat…’
who does most of the cleaning
Nat. Old habits die hard, and she’s a red room girl, through and through. When things get cluttered, she gets a little agitated.
what has a season pass in their DVR
Nothing. They don’t even have a television. They have a gym. And a small library. And a bed, and walks in the snow, and dinner, and standing on the observation deck to watch Steve mop the floor with Clint.
who leaves their stuff around
Bucky. As mentioned before, Nat’s not much of a clutterbug. James gets a little messy, mostly when he’s tired, and his clothes make a trail from the front door to the bedroom. he has until morning to pick them up, or he eats them.
who remembers to buy the milk
Russian Miak… (neither. They’re rarely home, so there are no perishables in the house.)
who remembers anniversaries
they only celebrate one, and they both know it by heart. No one has to remind them of the first time they met, when Natasha was almost too young, and Bucky wasn’t Bucky. He wasn’t anyone. neither of them knew the date of her first training session with him until some old Red Room records surfaced. They look forward to the day all year.
I’ve traveled the world to learn
I must return from Russia with love