Try To Stop The Feeling

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A/N- This chapter includes mature themes such as Drinking, Descriptions internalised homophobia and Allusions to compulsory heterosexuality

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Laughter filled the room as you chuckled around your cigarette, your head tilting to the side to blow the smoke towards the ceiling of Natasha's room, the redhead on the bed next to you copying your actions as she amused you. You looked at your best friend, admiring the playful and casual smirk planted on her lips as you chilled with her, watching happily as she moved her hand to the gentle beat of the music that was playing from her speaker in the corner, partly buried by clothes her sister had stolen before being forced to return them by Melina. The music that accompanied your laughter and rather loud chatter was something her father, Alexi, was not too pleased about as you heard him mutter something disapproving in Russian as he passed her bedroom door, the redhead mimicking her fathers actions only entertaining you further.

"May would smack the back of my head if she ever caught me doing that," you mutter, shaking your head playfully at Natasha mocking her father, the redhead rolling her eyes as she knew that your Aunt May would never do such a thing to you, she loved you too much. That woman was the sweetest woman she'd ever met, her warm, kind and friendly persona something you loved about your aunt, something you appreciated throughout your whole childhood.

"That woman wouldn't even hurt a fly," the Russian teases, crushing the end of her cigarette in the discarded ash tray on her bedside table before leaning over to where you were laying on her bed, stealing the end of yours as she knew how much it annoyed you, a defeated sigh leaving you as you knew there was no point in fighting her, the woman next to you always able to get what she wants.

Before you could make a snarky remark back at her, complaining how everyone seems to steal your cigarettes, the sound of a grunt and a small thud caught your attention as you both lifted your heads off the mattress to look at the window, the sight of Bucky's hair making you let out a small laugh as he climbed through her window.

"You do know doors exist, right?" you tease, deciding to use your sarcastic comment on the redhead's boyfriend as he pushes his long hair out of his eyes, revealing his icy blue eyes which were filled with just as much mirth as yours.

"As if Alexi would ever let me come in through the front door," he mutters, taking his jacket off before sitting in the chair next to the bed, his smile widening at the sight of the adoring look Natasha offered him before her attention was drawn to outside her door.

"Лучше бы там не было мальчика, Natalia! (There better not be a boy in there, Natalia)" Shouted her father over the music, the sound of a deeper voice catching the older man's attention as he walked passed once more, his fist pounding on the door.

In the room, Bucky's eyes widened, his usually casual blue morphing into worry at Alexi's words, the boy wanting to make a good first impression to his girlfriend's father, prompting him to swiftly drop to the floor by the bed, hiding as all three of you heard her door handle turn. Her father's inspecting gaze soon peeked around the door as Natasha groaned at her father's protectiveness, your smile growing at the whole interaction as you could see the end of Bucky's boot peaking just beyond the end of her bed, your teeth biting down on your lower lip to contain your laughter.

"Papa," she groaned, hiding her face with her hands as her father put his hands up in surrender, not wanting to further annoy his daughter as she could be quite scary when pissed off at him. "It's just Y/n," at her words, you wave at the man with an amused and cocky expression, his face still sceptical though.

"Нет мальчиков (No boys)" Is all he mutters before shutting the door, a sigh of relief leaving the couple whilst you can't help but let out your laughter, Natasha smacking you at how much their nervousness entertained you, your hands coming up in surrender just like her father's did, your turn to playfully mock the man.

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