Request: Anon- I have been sick with COVID . But reading your stories has helped. Wondering if you could write a story about yelenax reader (romantic or platonic) where Yelena is worried as the reader is in the hospital sick. Thanks!
Word Count: 444
Author: Charlotte
“You can see her for a second, but she does need to rest.”
The nurse tried to speak calmly to Yelena, but she didn’t listen. All that Yelena cared about was getting into the room to see you, having already threatened to end the life of several medical professionals when they refused to let her see you earlier. She barged into the room rushing over to your hospital bed, not caring for anything that got into her way.
She leant down towards you, clasping one of your hands in hers making sure to miss the cannula that was taped down to the reverse of that hand.
“Are you okay?” Yelena asked. “They wouldn’t tell me anything.”
“Have you been causing trouble?” You said with a pained smile causing yourself to cough, sending pain through your body.
You peered over to the nurse, whose face provided you more than enough information on how your girlfriend had reacted in you time since you’d been admitted to the hospital.
“They claim I am not family, but they are able to be persuaded,” she frowned. “I wasn’t going to leave you in this place on your own, especially not without knowing what was going on.”
You mustered up as much energy as you could to squeeze Yelena’s hand to try and reassure her.
“There’s not much to tell yet. They think that it’s to do with my lungs but until I can get in for a scan in the morning, they won’t know. They’ve started running tests so who knows what they’ll find.”
It was annoying to not know what was going on but you already had tubes and wires coming out of everywhere, so you had to trust your doctors and nurses in doing the best for you.
“You were unconscious,” she huffed. “I thought you died.”
“I’m sorry that I scared you-“
“I wasn’t scared.”
Yelena cut you off to correct you, still not capable of accepting any form of weakness about her.
“Sorry,” you said. “I didn’t mean to worry you. I don’t know what happened but thank you for getting me to the hospital so quickly.”
Yelena rolled her eyes. “I wasn’t going to just leave you on the floor.
You attempted to shoot Yelena an unimpressed look but the nasal cannula limited your ability to move your nose.
“Well depending on what it is, I could have died, so I appreciate you saving me and also staying by my side.”
“I’m not going anywhere, no matter what those people say.”
The nurse in the doorway let out a sign, knowing that even if you were an easy patient, Yelena would make things difficult.
yelena decides to go visit a place that brings her peace, only to find another there. (contains black widow and hawkeye spoilers) 1.1k
Leaning against the sink, Yelena blinks rapidly staring at her reflection. Immediately she notes the surroundings have changed, the wallpaper is different, the mirror she looks into differs entirely from mere seconds ago.
With a heavy sense of unease, she wanders out from the bathroom to see a family sitting there.
“Yelena,” The woman rises to her feet whilst her partner takes a hold of their child, backing away from the scene. “you’re back?”
“I, what’s happened?” Yelena manages to ask, bewildered by the reactions presented. “I just went in there and,” Trailing off, the woman helps her toward the couch and proceeds to explain what happened.
“And somehow, you, you’re back.” The woman chuckles in disbelief, sitting beside her old comrade after five years.
Nodding slowly, Yelena processes everything, feeling tears forming in her eyes at the realisation. “I, I have to find Natasha.” She quickly stands, her mind rushing with thoughts of her sister; her family. “Will you help me find her?”
“Of course.” The woman says, taking Yelena’s hand, squeezing it lightly.
*
It’d been a while since you’d visited. In truth, you were afraid to see it still standing there and facing the fact that she was really gone.
The look on Clint’s face when he returned alone, holding the stone in hand is one that haunts you. Hearing Natasha says with a smile ’see you in a minute’ with the hope that the plan would work still brings you to tears. Nothing’s the same, even if you were able to save everyone, you lost your best friend.
With a bunch of peonies clad in one hand, you approach the large tree and see the headstone beneath.
Bunches of flowers lay around the stone, her name embossed on the granite surface along with notes of adoration, thanks and appreciation. Most of the ink has run from the paper, now just a memory like Nat is.
“Hey, Nat,” You start, kneeling down to place the peonies in the centre of the pile, removing the withered ones aside. “of all the places, you really picked Ohio?” A chuckle sounds from you, picturing her smile at the thought, imagining her witty response. “Sorry it’s been a while, things haven’t exactly been the same since,” Trailing off, you stand back up, sensing someone else was with you.
Quickly, you turn around to see a blonde woman standing there, flowers in hand too as she stares right at you.
“Who’re you?” You’re the first to speak up, both of you keeping your ground and not daring to move first.
Few knew of Natasha’s final burial place, most left flowers near the Stark Tower.
“I could ask the same,” The blonde asks, her voice thick with a Russian accent. “why are you at Natasha’s grave?”
“What does it look like?” You quip, the tears you felt mere moments ago vanishing into anger. “I’m paying my respects for a friend, family even.” You tell the blonde, watching her shrug at your response. “And who are you to ask in the first place?”
Holding her hand up, you watch a look of realisation cross the woman’s face. “Holy Shit,” She starts. “you’re one of the Avengers aren’t you?” A laugh follows her question, one filled with sarcasm as opposed to excitement that usually follows with such.
“Yeah,” You tell her, sighing to yourself. “well, I was. I, I’m not really involved anymore.” Lowering your tone, you glance over to Natasha’s tone, seeing the words beneath her name. ’Daughter, Sister, Avenger.’
“I know who you are,” She states. “you’re Y/n. aren’t you?”
Nodding in response, the blonde steps closer. “Hold on,” You pause, paying closer attention to her. “no,” You mumble. “are you,”
The blonde raises a brow, noting the expression that mirrors the one she wore.
“Yelena?” Your voice almost cracks as Yelena’s expression changes from stubborn to sorrow. “Oh my god, you’re Nat’s sister.” A watery laugh sounds through your hands as you cover your mouth. “I, I can’t believe it.”
“You, you know who I am?” Yelena asks softly, a small frown playing on her lips.
“I, of course!” You admit. “Nat, she, she talked about you a lot. When we were on the run she told me about her sister, this amazing woman she’d turned into that she admired, and missed deeply.”
Without noticing, Yelena could feel tears fall down her cheeks.
“She really loved you, you know?” A sad smile etches itself on your face as Yelena nods to herself. “She’d be proud of you. Nat, she, she saved the world., for everyone.” Wiping away your own tears, Yelena sniffs loudly.
“I wish I got more time with her, you know?” Yelena painfully says. “You got to know her, she told me about you too. About her best friend, Y/n, the fighter with the gentle heart.”
You can’t help but chuckle at that. Of course, that’s what Nat would label you as.
“She told me we’d get on,” Yelena adds, half smiling to you. “I just wish she was here to see it all.”
Turning around, you face the grave once more as Yelena stands by your side. “What happened to her, I don’t think any of us will ever fully heal from.” You mutter, lifting your head up to see Yelena beside you with her eyes focused on the fresh peonies you placed.
“Why did she do it?” Yelena asks, knowing there are few who know the details, the truth behind her sisters death. “Clint Barton should not have let it happen, I,”
“Hey,” You interrupt her. “Clint wanted to go, I, we’ll never know what happened fully, but Natasha sacrificed herself for everyone, for Clint to have his family back and for you to come home.”
After a long silence, Yelena eventually finds her voice. “I just wish it didn’t have to be this way.”
Looking down, her fingers brush against yours lightly. “I know,” You whisper, hearing your words get lost into the breeze. “but Nat is looking over us, wherever she is.”
Yelena chuckles. “Oh, she is, probably drinking beer with that Tony Stark.”
“Sounds about right.” You add. “She’ll never be gone, not truly.”
Placing her flowers beside yours, Yelena returns to your side. “Thank you, Y/n.” She tells you. “I, I would like to hear more stories, if you have time?” Yelena asks apprehensively.
“We’re in Ohio, Yelena,” You remind her. “I’ve got all the time in the world.”
With a nod, the pair of you retreat from Natasha’s grave as the blossom on the tree blows down, clearing the last of the withered petals from her name.
After the Blip, after Natasha, after everyone came back.
Perhaps that was why Yelena was so drawn to you.
Both of you came back from ashes to a terrible, strenuous fresh start.
You knew nothing of the Red Room
and Yelena knew nothing of the life you left behind.
All you had were the memories of your past lives and relatively clean slates when you met.
There was a park, near where Natasha was buried.
After Yelena would visit her sister’s grave, she would sit on a bench to people watch.
Sometimes Val would accompany her, gift her with some new bounty
other times, on rarer occasions, they would just sit in silence together.
Most often, Yelena was alone,
eyes flicking around the playground, to watch mothers and fathers corral their children, to the wide open field next to it, watching owners corral their dogs.
Fanny would watch too, ears perked.
Sometimes the shepherd mix would whimper, wanting to play with her fellow furry friends.
“Not today, Fanny,” Yelena cooed, scratching the pups head.
Yet, one day, Fanny continued to whine.
Big, brown eyes flicked up to Yelena, distracting the blonde from her surroundings.
“What is it, baby?” Yelena cooed, “what’s wrong?”
Spurred on by her voice, Fanny got to her feet and turned her attention towards the dog park.
Yelena followed her dog’s gaze but saw nothing.
Nothing until a ball of white, curly fluff hurled towards them both, pink tongue poking out from tiny jaws.
Yelena almost started laughing when the miserable little thing stopped short of Fanny and began to yap as threateningly as it could.
The creature was bordering on annoying when you rushed up.
You looked wild, arms outstretched towards the little white dog in a vain attempt to hold it back and away from Fanny.
“I’m so sorry, I don’t-I’m dogsitting! Bubbles, stop it!”
“Bubbles?” Yelena asked, a laugh slipping past her lips. “It’s name is Bubbles?”
You too began to laugh, a melodious sound that rung out, even over Bubbles’ incessant yapping.
“Yeah, his owner said it was ironic,” you explained through a chuckle, picking up Bubbles and holding him to your chest.
“Ironic cause he’s not so bubbly?” Yelena asked and you nodded.
“Exactly,” it was then your eyes landed on Fanny, “what’s that cuties’ name?”
“This,” Yelena said, patting the shepherd’s head, “is Fanny.”
“Fanny,” you echoed with a smile, “I’ve never heard that one before.”
“It’s a family name,” Yelena added, though her smile began to die, victim to memory.
“That’s sweet.”
A moment passed, with just you and Yelena staring at each other
all the while Bubbles wormed around in your grasp.
Yelena was struck by how soft you looked with the park and sunlight cast behind you.
There was no harshness in your face, not the kind she was used to.
“Do you…do you and Bubbles want to sit?”
“Uh, yeah, yeah. Thanks.”
You fell into the seat at her side and, almost immediately, Fanny went to sniffing at Bubbles who still wormed around in your lap.
“Sit, Fanny,” Yelena warned, “be nice to our guests.”
“It’s alright,” you said, tilting your head towards Bubbles. “He seems to be less angry now that he’s so close.”
“All bark, no bite, huh?” Yelena asked, holding out a hand for Bubbles.
There was a gentleness in her manner that caught you, that reminded you that you didn’t know this lovely person’s name.
“I’m Y/N, by the way.”
“Yelena,” she returned with a smile.
“Nice to meet you.”
“Likewise,” Yelena returned, “and that extends to Bubbles as well.”
You laughed, just as you did for the next few hours.
Together, you and Yelena (along with Bubbles and Fanny) wasted time together, got to know each other, and laughed.
It had been so long since Yelena had laughed
and since you returned from ash, it had been so long since you had allowed yourself to be comfortable around someone.
Spending time together was easy.
You both bonded over being gone in the Blip, how you came back to empty homes and lost loved ones.
You explained how you came back unemployed, with a family far older than when you left them.
“It was hard, getting back to things. Hence the dogsitting.”
“Hence the dogsitting. Is Bubbles your only client?”
“Right now, yeah,” you admitted, much too shyly.
“Well, my work tends to take me out of town. You could watch Fanny.”
“Really? I’d love to! She’s so well behaved!”
Yelena swallowed hard and, for the first time in her life, struggled to muscle up some courage. “Is…Is there a number I should call?”
“Here, you can just use my number.”
You gave Yelena your number and gave her a smile.
“But, enough about me. What about you? How were things post-Blip for you?”
A heavy sigh slipped past Yelena’s lips.
“You don’t have to…”
“No, I…I want to. It’s just a lot.”
“Well, Bubbles isn’t due back for a while,” you said with a smile, “so take all the time you need.”
Eventually, Yelena told you.
She told you about her training, in the vaguest of details.
She told you about Natasha, in the vaguest details.
“I’m so sorry,” you whimpered, resting your hand on hers. “Have you talked to anyone about it?”
Yelena met your gaze and felt her heart twinge at the concern in your eyes.
“Just you, really.”
“Oh, well. I’m glad you feel that you can.”
“Sorry for just dumping that on you. You have your own things and…”
“No, don’t be sorry,” you pressed, “it’s alright.”
You and Yelena sat on the bench until the park began to close until dusk kissed the sky a pinkish-orange.
“You probably need to get back, yeah?”
You glanced at the sky, then your phone, before turning back to Yelena. “Yeah, I better be going.”
“Let Fanny and I walk you out of the park at least,” Yelena said, standing.
You couldn’t refuse, you didn’t want to refuse.
You wanted to spend more time with Yelena,
and she wanted to spend more time with you.
So, you walked and talked, took the long way through the park until you reached the exit.
“So, uh, give me a text, when you need Fanny to watch. Or just text me whenever.”
“I will,” Yelena replied with a smile. “Thanks, for…for sitting with me.”
“Thanks for offering the spot,” you returned.
That day, you and Yelena went your separate ways but became attached forever.
Throughout the next few weeks, you and Yelena exchanged texts.
Simple ‘Hello! How are you?’ and ‘Might need your dogsitting services soon’.
Each time you got a text from her (or vice versa), a larger conversation would take hold.
Digital message by digital message, you and Yelena peeled away parts of yourselves.
It got to the point where, when the time finally came for you to watch Fanny while Yelena went away to work, itfelt more like meeting a friend.
You met up at the park, near the same bench where you sat together when you first met.
Anxiety drove you to leave earlier, far earlier than you needed to.
You arrived fifteen minutes earlier than you needed to, but it seemed Yelena did as well.
A smile crept along your features when you saw her and Fanny making their way towards the bench.
She smiled at you in return and Fanny, much to your surprise, picked up her pace and pulled Yelena faster towards you.
“Hey!”
“Hi!”
Fanny nipped playfully at your extended hands, her puppy-like excitement making you laugh.
“Someone’s happy to see me again, huh?”
“I am too,” Yelena chuckled, “Fanny just likes to show off.”
Your face burned in the soft heat of her compliment before you straightened your posture and bid Fanny to settle.
“Speaking of seeing people again, how long is this work trip of yours?”
Yelena’s beaming expression shifted at your question; her eyes grew almost darker, lips fell from her smile and into an unreadable flat line.
“No more than four days.”
Suddenly feeling the need for levity, you added in a chuckle, “short trip, huh?”
“I’m good at my job, so I only needfour days.”
You smiled at Yelena’s confidence, and she smiled too when she noticed your expression.
Though, you were not so lost in her softness to realize that you had no idea what Yelena did for work.
“What do you do?”
“I…meet people. See how they act if they’re good. Good for business.”
“Like a networker?”
“Sure, a networker.”
Another moment of soft silence fell over you and Yelena.
Though, when Fanny began to lick lovingly at your palms, your attention diverted to the pup.
You cooed at her, tried to get calm down…to no avail.
Yelena let out a huff of amusement at the sight that brought your eyes back to hers.
You swore you saw her cheeks pinken before she flicked her gaze to her wrist, which had a very tactical-looking watch wrapped around it.
“I have a flight to catch so…”
“Oh, yeah, sorry,” you said, nudging Fanny towards her owner.
Yelena crouched down so that she was eye-level with Fanny.
Her hands reached out, cupping the dog’s face before scratching behind her ears.
“Now, you behave. Listen to Y/N, make sure you leave a good impression for me, okay?”
Fanny licked her jowls and tilted her head up to Yelena’s as if to agree to her terms.
Satisfied, the blonde stood up and met your eyes again.
“I texted you my address so when you’re done with this walk you can drop her off. She doesn’t need to be in her crate, but it’s there if she gets too…too rowdy.”
“What about her food?”
“It’s in the laundry room, on the shelf. It’s the room at the end of the hall with the door shut. Two scoops after every walk.”
“Okay, great. I’ll text you if I run into any problems.”
Yelena smiled and nodded before her expression melted into stark realization.
“You’ll probably need this,” she said, rummaging through one of her pants pockets to pull out a copy of her keys.
“And this, probably,” she added, holding out the handle of Fanny’s leash and her key.
As you reached out towards Yelena’s extended hand, your fingertips brushed together
and the touch sent a wonderful, tickling shock through your body.
Quickly, you pulled your hand away, scared you might give too much away.
Too much of what, you weren’t sure;
all you knew was that you weren’t ready for whatever it was to come out yet.
“Well, uh,” you cleared your throat, “have a nice flight, and fun…networking.”
“Thanks, and thanks for taking care of my girl.”
“It’s my pleasure,” you returned, smiling at the affection Yelena had for her companion. “She’s a good one.”
Yelena nodded before she turned her back and speedily walked down the street.
You watched her go for a long moment, watched until her blonde head of hair disappeared out of the park.
When she was gone, you glanced to Fanny who, with big brown eyes (that strangely reminded you of her owner’s), looked up back at you.
“Miss her already?”
Fanny wriggled at your side.
You took that as a ‘yes’.
“She’ll be back, sooner than you know it,” you said, leaning down to scratch her head. “C’mon, let’s finished up your walk.”
For the next two days, Fanny was a perfect angel.
You would walk her in the mornings, at midday, in the afternoon, and once more at night.
Each time, you would take her back to Yelena’s apartment and marvel at the little home the young woman had made for herself.
Yelena’s apartment was sparsely decorated but warm.
Dark red furniture rested on hardwood floors, which looked in need of refurbishing and surrounded an ornately detailed rug.
A few neglected house plants dotted the windowsill and were tucked into dusty corners.
Ferns in the kitchenette that, you imagined, was once full of green leaves long since dried into a terrible, motley brown.
The kitchenette was also sparse, not that you snooped.
Well, you did but…you just needed water on the third day, for the plants.
There was hardly anything in Yelena’s fridge or food in her cabinets.
You resorted to tap water, poured it carefully out of a measuring cup and into the plant pots.
So, along with taking care of Fanny, you began to take care of Yelena’s fauna.
You thought you were a little late on that front, that Yelena would be back the next day and your idle watering would do nothing.
But then, Yelena didn’t come back.
You texted her late in the next evening, worried.
Sat on her couch, with Fanny resting her head on your lap, you waited to hear from the Russian blonde.
At some point you fell asleep and, at some other point, you resigned to your new role as Fanny’s (and the plant’s) extended caretaker.
You stayed over at her place most nights, worried that Fanny may realize her missing momma.
In that time, you also grew to know Yelena, in a way.
You had a feeling her favorite color was yellow, based on the decor in her bedroom; that she liked poetry; that she, seemingly, didn’t have much family.
Walking the dog and watering the plants became fixtures in your life for the next week.
You went to the police station to file a missing person report, but they had no file or record of any Yelena Belova.
At the start of the second week, you began to research what else you could do, how else you could try to locate her.
When you hit a wall and your gut grew too heavy with dread, you pulled away from your computer.
To distract yourself, you walked over to the plants, checked the soil, smiled, bittersweetly at the newly green leaves.
Just as you brushed your fingertips along the edges of the ferns, the front door of Yelena’s apartment burst open.
You yelped and jumped around to stare at the intruder.
Fanny barked but suddenly stopped.
You understood why for, when your eyes landed on a haggard-looking Yelena, you felt your own jaw go slack.
“I’m home.”
Fanny darted towards her, knocking the blonde to the ground.
“Hey girl, hey,” she said, wincing as her furry companion stepped on her legs and torso.
Wordlessly, you walked towards the reunited unit and tried to coax Fanny away so Yelena could stand.
“Thanks,” the blonde said, barely looking up at you.
Again wordlessly, you reached down a hand towards her.
Yelena took it and you helped her to her feet.
It was then she met your eyes.
Purple and angry, a bruise painted the side of her face.
You gasped but the surprise of splotch did nothing to dull the shock of relief that raced through you.
You reached out to hug her, but your lips knocked against her as you did in a terrible, teeth-knocking excuse of a kiss.
“Oh, sorry!” you exclaimed, immediately stepping back.
Yet, Yelena had other plans, her hands reached out for you, your hips pulled you back to her.
The next time your lips met was softer, slower, with no knocking.
Your hands curled into fists, gripping the material of her thick jacket.
When she pulled away, Yelena sighed, “I’m sorry I took so long.”
“Getting back or kissing me?”
“Both.”
Yelena didn’t lie to you then, about what it was that she did as a ‘job’.
And she apologized for lying before.
“Telling people that I…it’s…does it change…things? Change…”
“This?” You asked, gesturing at yourself then at Yelena, “no, not really. I’d still like to know you, help you figure a way out.”
“Y/N, a way out is dangerous, not possible, not really.”
“But you said you broke free before, with the help of your sister.”
Yelena’s sad eyes brightened and a smile, small but there, spread along her lips.
“I can help, like how I helped with your plants. Alright?”
“Alright.”
Then was the start of a new sort of life.
Life became softer but sharped all at once.
Yelena would take you out on dates to expensive places, places that never seemed to fit quite right with the two of you (except for on special occasions).
Most of the time, you would research a new dive in some downtown area that you and Yelena could waste together in over dinner.
“See, better than the snails, right?”
“I still don’t understand why someone would want to eat a snail.”
You laughed, but not at her sincerity.
That was one of the many things you loved about Yelena,
she was always honest.
You surmised that was why she was the first to say it.
One a nightly walk to the park, with Fanny trailing alongside, Yelena pulled you over to the bench you both sat on the day you met.
“Why are we stopping? It’s a bit chilly out.”
“I could give you my coat, if you want.”
“Don’t be silly,” you pressed, “then you’ll freeze.”
“I want to keep you warm,” she said, her free hand reaching up to cup your face.
The fabric of her glove scratched lightly at the skin of your cheek, but it felt like home nonetheless.
You looked into her eyes and saw only sincerity.
“I love you,” she murmured, her voice nearly hidden in the Autumn breeze.
“I love you too.”
Walking Fanny together through the park, to the place where you met became a tradition after that, nightly little escapes into each other.
Though, due to her line of work, things weren’t always so great.
Sometimes, all you had was Fanny’s company and the silent rustling of the plants in Yelena’s apartment when she was away.
Seeing her with bruises never got easy,
nor did missing her.
But she always came back to you.
Spending the night over at Yelena’s also became a tradition,
more like a habit that you couldn’t break.
A habit that you didn’t want to break.
You would end the night tangled in her embrace and wake up the same way, with kisses being pressed to your neck, your collar, your jaw.
“Morning.”
And what a good morning it would be.
It always was
for despite the wildness of Yelena’s life, the danger, it was Yelena’s.
It’s Yelena’s kind-of-day-off, yet she always seems to find a way to weave her work into her free-time. Sometimes, like this time, it works out in your favor.
“Come back to bed.”
“Shush,” Yelena waved a dismissive hand at you, her back still turned to you and the bed. “I thought I heard something.”
With a defeated sigh, you fell back against your pillow to wait for her eventual return. Early rays of sunlight peeked through the window of the room the two of you rented out the night before and shone almost directly into your eyes. To escape it, you pressed your face into the pillow and turned away from the light. As you moved, you noted how the glow exposed the less-than-lovely water stains on the ceiling and the fine layer of dust that covered the small table in the corner of the room. At the sight, your nose scrunched up as if to block the threat of a sneeze.
Despite that, the room was not the worst place you and Yelena had been housed in. Though, you had stayed at farfiner establishments. At places where specks of dust were viewed as vermin to be exterminated. There were times where you missed the luxury that came with that level of care and cleanliness.
But you knew better than to ask for an upgrade. The first, and last, time you dared to question the quality of your and Yelena’s housing, Val shut you down with a mere glare. After that, you never even endeavored to ask whyyou stayed at a certain location. Granted, most of the time, the advantage was clear.
For instance, you once camped in the concrete skeleton of an abandoned apartment complex, situated across the street from Yelena’s mark. While you never quite grew used to the presence of rats, the target never saw the end coming. Yelena was able to watch him through the windows, stalking along the cement ridges and metal frames that would be deconstructed by a demolition crew soon after you left.
Then, there was the time you and Yelena slept in the silk sheets of a highrise suite. You don’t remember leaving that bed all too often during that mission. If you and Yelena did venture out beyond the edge of the California King mattress, it was to lounge on the balcony to listen and watch the life flowing through the city until sunset. Yelena always worked best in the dark.
There was no balcony at this motel, aside from the one that the stairs led up to reach the second level of rooms. You and Yelena were booked a room on the first floor, with a neighbor above you that insisted on stomping while they packed for their early morning departure. Even with one ear pressed against numerous layers of fabric, you could hear their thumping around.
“It’s probably the person upstairs,” you grumbled into the pillow.
Yelena shushed you again as she peeked inside the adjoining bathroom. A long, too quiet moment passed and you felt a shock of nerves settle in your stomach. Tentatively, you pushed yourself up and off of the bed. Fear guided your feet silently to the carpeted floor as you craned your neck to look for Yelena. It was tooquiet.
“Lena?” You called out softly, your voice cutting through the sudden quiet.
When you got no reply, you padded closer to the bathroom door. Your fingers curled tight into your palms, creating a pair of perfect fighting fists. Yelena had drilled you on the proper form in the past. To defend yourself, she had said; though, back then, you never imagined a time where she wouldn’t be by your side.
Now, you were all too aware of how alone you were. Apprehension was your only ally as you called out again, firmer this time, “Yelena?”
Another long beat of silence surrounded you, overwhelmed your senses with nothingness, before the bathroom door suddenly flew open. The stopper on the wall met the metal handle with a loud thud that made you jump.
“What?” Yelena asked, face blank and unamused until her brown eyes fell upon your curled fists. Then, her lips quickly quirked upwards into a wide, mischievous grin. “Were you worried about me, dorogoy?”
Exasperated, you dropped your unclenched your fists, dropped them to your sides, and scowled. “You weren’t answering!”
“Izvinit’, sorry,” Yelena said as she stepped closer to you, her focus trained on your hands. “But show me the stance again.”
There was an edge in her voice that nearly sent a shiver down your spine. Luckily, Yelena seemingly didn’t notice as her fingers found yours and raised your hands up. When you met her eyes, you found her grin faded into a softer, less-teasing smile. Was it pride?
“Show me,” she echoed, her gaze unyielding. Her tone wasn’t forceful, but you felt yourself compelled to concede.
You raised your hands and closed them into tight fists once more, even going as far as to bring them close to your head. Between your raised arms, Yelena was perfectly framed. Her eyes drank in your stance, studied your pose, the placement of your thumb. You couldn’t help but smile at her intense attention to detail.
“What do you think?” You asked, putting on your best Russian accent. Yelena’s brow raised at your attempt and your smile widened slightly. “No good?”
“Your accent is terrible, beyond help,” she mused, hands reaching out to resituate how you held your arms. “But your stance is…it’s good. Could use some work, but it’s good.”
“Well, you’re the one who taught me, so,” you trailed off, leaving for words open as an invitation for training, for a lesson. Or a lesson.Yelena leaned back and gave you a knowing look before she began to circle around you, surveying you.
You could feel the heat of her eyes on you, analyzing your posture. Despite your desire to go back to bed and drag Yelena with you, you remained still. There would be time for that later. Plus, either way, you were with Yelena and enjoying time together. Either way, Yelena’s hands would be on you.
“You have to stand with your dominant side foot farther back and apart, so you can pivot when you punch. Here, scoot this back,” she said, tapping your foot with her own. You stepped back but Yelena shook her head. “No, too far. Now you’re vulnerable for a sweep.”
“A sweep? What is-”
“This,” Yelena interrupted, swinging her leg out to strike yours. There wasn’t any pain, only the feeling of your leg giving out beneath you.
Then, there was the falling. Red and dingey, the carpet of the hotel room floor rushed up at you. Just as a yelp of surprise began to slip past your lips, Yelena’s leg, the one that illustrated was a ‘sweep’ was, swung back around and bumped you again. With the strike, you were tipped backwards rather than forwards and to the side. Your change in direction gave Yelena the opportunity to reach out and catch you.
Her hands grasped your hips, pulling your body flush to hers. At the contact, your hammering heart slowed, calmed by the warmth of her arms around you. You fight whiplash to meet Yelena’s eyes and, when you finally met her gaze you saw that her grin has forced crinkles in the corners of them.
“That’s a sweep,” she beamed.
“Uh-huh,” you replied breathlessly, “I figured.”
Almost immediately, Yelena’s grin melted into an expression of concern. Her brow furrowed and her lips parted, while her hands squeezed your hips. “I didn’t hurt you did I, I was just-”
To silence her worry, you leaned forwards and kissed her. Your hands traveled up from Yelena’s arms to cup her face. The smooth skin of her cheeks filled your palms. That was what you loved most about her: she was soft despite it all. She loved and cared, despite being a Widow; despite being able to land you on your ass in an instant.
You pulled away slowly and smiled when Yelena’s eyes remained closed. “Thanks for the lesson.”
Yelena smiled then, her eyes opening wide enough to drink your look of pleased surprise as she lifted you off your feet and carried you back to bed, at last.
Summary: Your sketchbook is filled with versions of Natasha through your eyes.
A/N: An idea for a drabble that I had while bored at a party. Nothing serious, kinda different, hope it’s still good. Yes, I am procrastinating on my requests with this story :).
You first saw her in a park. Her black leather jacket and red hair stood out to you on the sunny day, she had a coffee cup in hand, sitting on a bench and looking gloomy. She was enticing.
You couldn’t help yourself as you looked at her, the scratching of your pen against the paper started almost involuntarily. You knew who she was, from a few scattered pieces of news about the city’s heroes. Today she looked nothing like it.
The few wisps of hair that broke free from her braid turned into delicate strokes of your pen. Her profile was easy to draw, the turn of her eyebrows and shape of her lips was almost natural to your fingers.
She felt your lingering gaze on her, moving her eyes to you with a daring look to chase you away. It did the opposite, you put on a sheepish smile and walked up to her.
The sketchbook in your sweaty hands caught her attention as you walked closer, she lifted an inquiring eyebrow when your feet came to a stop in front of her.
“I’m sorry, but you are inspiring.” You stated. The weight of her gaze wasn’t unpleasant, but it made you avert your eyes.
She digested your words for a few seconds, her lips parted. “May I see?”
You expected Natasha Romanoff to sound much more confident. You loved the tone of her voice.
There was a respectable distance between both of you as you sat down beside her. You handed her the sketchbook, she looked through the pages until an unfinished portrait of her appeared. The lines copied her features to perfection, making her frown when she saw the gentleness of her own eyes.
“You make a different version of me.” Natasha mused to herself, not taking her eyes off of the drawing. Her lips were pursed in a half-smile.
“I only draw what I see.” Your voice was quiet, your cheeks felt warm. She was much more captivating up close.
______
You’ve known Natasha for about four months. By now, your sketchbook was filled with strokes of ink that formed many different versions of her. Your favorites were the ones where she was distracted; in her own world, she looked the most natural. Drawings of her watching TV, reading a book, brewing coffee, and watering your plants. In each drawing, she was more beautiful than the last. And with each empty page you started to fill, you fell more in love.
Today, you opened the door of your small apartment to her. The image of her standing at the entrance of your home, with her hands in the pockets of her pants and a tiny smirk, was becoming familiar. You felt her nervous excitement immediately, opening your arms to her with the bit of reassurance she needed.
Natasha felt warm against you, her hold was always strong. She always gripped onto you as if it would be the last time.
“Thank you for having me.” Her voice gave away the impression that she thought of herself as a chore you had to do. Her eyes roamed around your home, her steps inside were slow and careful.
“It’s a pleasure, Nat.” She was a privilege, you tried to make her see that.
The nickname raised goosebumps on Natasha’s skin, reminding her why she came. She turned around to you and the words she rehearsed earlier died on her lips as you caught her hand.
“I bought a new one.” You dragged her towards your balcony, glancing back with a proud smile that had Natasha’s heartbeat quickening.
You squeezed her hand, coming to a stop near the many plants you took care of. A smaller one held your gaze, the bright green of the little succulent plant let everyone know it was happy in its new home.
Natasha smiled, touching one leaf with a careful finger. “It’s beautiful.”
Her voice held a tight tone that had you frowning, but you brushed it off. “I need to move it to a bigger pot though, will you help?”
Natasha was happy to agree, she loved how you taught her to appreciate smaller details in life. You both worked wordlessly moving the little plant. You grabbed the pot, and Natasha adjusted the new soil. She took it upon herself to put it in place, being overly careful in holding the plant as she moved it from one pot to another.
Your smile was dazed, she was always enticing. Leaning back on the railing, you couldn’t help yourself from taking the sketchbook from your back pocket and tracing a loose sketch of the scene. The way Natasha was pursing her lips in concentration, holding the plant as if it was the most precious yet fragile thing in the world; it was too good not to draw.
She could always feel when your eyes lingered on her for too long, Natasha felt herself blushing. She put down the plant, that was now comfortable in its new, bigger pot. “Why do you draw me so much?” Her words came but she was unable to look up at you.
“I told you already, you are inspiring.” You kneeled beside her on the floor of your balcony, feeling grains of soil beneath your knees.
Natasha saw her vision get blurry, the leaves of the plants in front of her starting to mold together. If you were to leave, let it be now. It would hurt less. She sucked in a breath, playing the words in her head. “You wouldn’t say that if you knew me.”
She turned around and forced her eyes to meet yours, pursing her lips in a tight smile. “There’s something I need you to know.” She whispered.
“I’ve seen it.” You said with ease, seemingly reading her mind and making the burden feel light. Not long ago Natasha leaked various files of a corrupt organization, alongside those, her own files were released as well. Tales of her past, of the things she’d done and people she’d killed.
Natasha gulped, feeling small under your gaze. Her throat closed tightly. “I’m not pretty.” A tear run down her nose when she averted her eyes. “You shouldn’t put that on paper.”
Your fingers threaded gently through the red waves of her hair, you pulled her to your chest, kissing the crown of her head. She nuzzled your neck, her arm came around your waist with a strong grip that was almost bruising.
“Will you leave?” Her voice was muffled against you, her tears felt warm on your skin. You squeezed her shoulders at the same time her words gripped your heart. You kissed her hair, feeling your eyes sting because Natasha didn’t know any better. For her, an act of love only meant pain afterward.
You pulled away, gentle thumbs wiping the tear tracks from her cheeks. “Never.”
Natasha closed her eyes at your voice, her hands clutching the fabric of your shirt. A shaky breath of relief came from her.
“I only draw what I see, Nat. When I look at you, I only see beauty.” You opened your sketchbook, taking her hand in yours and closing it around your small collection of memories on paper. “I wish you could see yourself through my eyes.” You traced her jaw and the outline of her lower lip before looking down at your most recent drawing of her.
Natasha leaned onto your touch, following your gaze to the sketchbook in her hands. The lines were a bit messy and rough, but her features were light and gentle; the look in her eyes was one she’d never seen before, and the flowing of her hair was perfect on the stroke of your pen.
Placing a kiss on the palm of your hand, Natasha realized that the drawing of the woman holding a small plant in her hands didn’t look so foreign to her anymore. Slowly, your version of her was becoming the one she recognized the most.
—⧗—
Thank you for reading this little story. Feedback and reblogs are very much appreciated. <3
Pairing: GN!Reader x Avengers (Platonic) Warnings: Not really? Mentions of blood Requested: Nope, send in some stuff loves!
You met all the Avengers separately. Originally you had joined Sheild before the Avengers were a thing and one day when you were kidnapped by some crazy scientist that proceeded to experiment on you, you were then considered for the Avengers Initiative… only considered since you couldn’t quite control the random powers you gained from the experiments.
You met Tony Stark when you had to join Natasha one day at the Stark Tower.
You were in his little penthouse and were in front of some random… thing that was in his living room, waiting for the man himself to meet up with you and Nat.
Your hand had reached forward to touch it, to see what it was because you had no clue what it was exactly, when you heard from the elevator; “Don’t breathe on that, it’s expensive.”
You froze and then straightened up before turning to the voice, who turned out to be Tony. Nat was sitting on the couch, covering up a small grin in amusement at the innocent look you had put on your face.
Tony swaggered over and dragged his eyes over your person.
“I have no idea what you’re talking about.” You gave a big grin as you rocked on the balls of your feet.
Tony’s lips twitched before scoffing. “We’ll get along great.”
-
You met Steve Rogers and Bucky Barnes one day after getting back from a mission that went a little sideways. You had just walked into the communal area in bloody clothes when you paused at the site of Bucky Barnes and Steve Rogers.
They also paused at the site of you standing there like a deer in headlights.
Brushing off the sudden and shocked silence, you grinned and waved at the two. “Hiiiii! I’m Y/N otherwise known as [Alias]. Nice to meet you two!”
Bucky raised an eyebrow and looked you over slowly while Steve opened his mouth slowly while frowning his eyebrows. “Uhhh… Steve.” He gave a major pause while opening and closing his mouth.
Bucky picked up the question. “Is that blood?” He tilted his head.
You looked down at your clothes and then looked up. Biting your lip before slowly answering. “No…?” You even looked confused at your answer.
Bucky gave a bark of a laugh while Steve looked more concerned. “That’s not a question you’re supposed to answer with another question.”
You chuckled nervously while rubbing the back of your neck.
-
How you met Bruce Banner was even worse.
You had just accidentally broken a very expensive training robot and had just walked out of the training room and bumped into Bruce.
Grinning guiltily, you put your hands behind your back. “Did you see that?” You asked casually.
He had glanced behind you while adjusting his glasses and saw the robot on fire and looked lost. “Umm…”
“The correct answer is no… no you didn’t. Nice to meet you Dr. Banner!” You spoke cheerily before taking off down the hallway as fast as you could.
-
Thor and Loki were interesting.
Thor was in the living room, plastered to the glass overlooking the city of Stark Tower when you walked in and he was grinning as he observed everything.
“Lady Natasha! What is the word for that infestation of tiny creatures over there?!” He pointed somewhere.
Curious, you followed Nat over to the window and looked to where he was pointing and you laughed heartedly as Nat deadpanned. “Those are children… That’s a school.” She said with no emotion in her tone. Making you laugh even more, to the point you leaned against the window next to them.
Meeting Loki was during the Invasion when you were making your way to the top of the Tower with Nat and you misjudged where to land so you landed on the area that was Tony’s suit landing area… You tucked and rolled and then landed in front of some feet.
Freezing, you stared at the boots for a moment. Thinking to yourself, “Shitshitshitshitshit… why me?”
“Mortal…” A deep accented voice spoke from above you. Leaking of arrogance and prestige.
You rushed to stand up and straightened up. But you froze at the man before you. Why did he have to be so attractive…
You laughed nervously as Loki examined you from top to bottom. “Don’t mind me…I’ll just go find a corner to have my existential crisis.” You tried to move to the side to walk around him, but he cut you off with the Septer. You looked down at it and then back up.
“Shouldn’t you be worshipping me, mortal?” He gave a mad grin, which made his appearance look a little more haggard.
In your mind, you said yes but outward you spoke. “Not interested, thanks.” You gave an anxious grin.
Loki’s face dropped for a moment but took steps closer to you. He looked out the window behind me and then turned back to you. “This is a beautiful world.” He said sarcastically will a tilt of his head and smarmy grin.
You gave a big eye smile and sassed “Shame you came from so far away to destroy it, huh?”
He raised an eyebrow and smirked. “Not really.”
Quickly you ducked and then took off away from him. You gave him a sassy salute and grin, observing his face as he looked at you shocked for a moment. “Later, Mischief!”
-
Meeting Clint was the most fun. He was the one that recruited you. After escaping the scientist that experimented on you, you were living on the street for a good while.
You had just stolen some food from an expensive restaurant and had made your way to one of the building’s roof to sit and eat while enjoying the view.
In the middle of your meal, a man sat next to you and took a bite from the container. “Pretty snazzy food you got there.”
You froze and watched him wide eyed for a moment before contemplating jumping to escape.
He nonchalantly took another bite as he looked over the city. “Don’t jump, I don’t wanna have to chase you. It took a while to track you down.”
You frowned your eyebrows and sighed. “What are you? Cop?”
He snorted. “Nah, I just worked for a company called The Strategic Homeland Intervention, Enforcement, and Logistics Division.”
You blinked and scrunched your face up. “What? Did someone not know how to shorten names?”
“I think they are going to shorten it to S.H.I.E.L.D.” He shrugged and then reached up to adjust something on the side of his head. You notice of the hearing aid and your lips twitched before straightening up.
“And why have you been tracking me down?” You started to swing your legs over the side of the building as you observed the man next to you.
He gave a smile, “I think I have a job for you kid.”
-
Natasha was short and sweet…
A few months after your training finally finished, Clint told you that he had someone he wanted you to meet and potentially become your mentor.
Following Clint into a training room in one of Sheild’s headquarter buildings, you spotted a red headed lady with a face set into an emotionless mask.
You walked up with Clint and Clint spoke up, “Nat, this is Y/N. Y/N this is Natasha Romanoff, otherwise known as the Black Widow.”
Your face set into an awed expression. “Woahhhh, so badass…” You grinned. “You get on Clint’s nerves, too?” You teased.
You saw her lips twitch but her mask remained. She looked you up and down before turning to Clint. “They’ll do.”
