Dating Yelena Belova Would Include…

• You met Yelena after everything.
• 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.
• Yelena was yours and you were hers.

A Lesson - Yelena Belova

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.

Momento-Part2

Summary: After destroying the red room and returning from the blip, Yelena turns her focus to finding you. You, unwilling to let the memory of your oldest friend die, leave a trail of momentos in your wake for her to follow.

A/N: Thanks for all the love guys, please let me know what you think!

Masterlist|Requests

Part One

The red room had fallen, finally. Torn down from its looming spectral position in the sky and torn viciously apart as it surrendered to the relentless pull of gravity. A sweet relief of revenge had flooded Yelena as the metal had crashed and screeched in its destruction. The others were freed, the girls and women escaping their predetermined fate and finding a new freedom of choices that had been stolen from them.

It was wonderful, really, their victory against all odds. And yet, Yelena felt unsatisfied.

The job itself had been tough, planned to the millisecond and leaving no room for Yelena to break from the mission and find you. She had wanted to, needed to really, find and reconnect with the person who had supported her through everything. Her survival meant little to her without the people she loved; her family. You were a part of that family, even if you could not remember her yet. Doing her duty, knowing you would do the same in her position, she ignored the desperate urge to find you and did her part in permanently dismantling the red room.

And now it was over. The red room was no more and, somehow, Yelena had still lost even more. Returning from the blip, that impossibly vast expanse of time that had felt like seconds, Yelena had lost years and Yelena had lost her sister. Yelena’s plan had always been to find you, the blip interrupting her before she could even finds a place to start, but the loss of Natasha only made her more desperately reckless in her search for you. For companionship.

It had been tough. Even without the five years you may have lived whilst Yelena was ‘away’ she knew you would be more than skilled at hiding your tracks. If you didn’t want to be found, it would be near impossible to find you.

Except, you wanted to be found. Yelena knew this because she had been pleasantly surprised to find you had left her an expanse of clues. A trail of identifying marks. A business card for a cafe you briefly worked in, the short-term lease agreement you left at an apartment you used to rent, and an almost blank postcard you had left in an abandoned house you briefly squatted in; all marked with the same lopsided flower that forever adorned Yelena’s wrist.

Despite months of seeing nothing but this lopsided flower in lieu of you, Yelena did not entirely lose hope. She must be getting closer, she must be.

And, as it turned out, she was.

It was just after midnight in Chicago. The sounds of the city were distant but echoed through the empty air like remnants of another world. This district had been abandoned, it seemed. Business crashing during the blip and never quite making a recovery. Empty warehouses provided both the shelter and solitude you would prefer were you unsure who may be after you.

Your last flower, scribbled onto a torn dollar bill had also included the symbol for wind that weathermen often employed and a dark blue splodge. Trusting her instincts with your notes had always worked well, it seemed you more than understood how Yelena’s mind worked, and so immediately she took off for the Windy City. What the splash of blue had meant, however, she hadn’t known. Until now.

There were countless warehouses in this district but she were certain the blue would hold a meaning. When she stopped before a warehouse with a dark blue flag waving floppily from a flickering streetlamp out front, Yelena held her breath. Holding the dollar bill crumpled in her fist, she stepped through the large steel doors.

In this vast empty spaces her steps echoed all around her, bouncing from every unadorned wall to surround her in her own hesitant steps. She were looking for another clue, another scrap of paper for her to pore over and helplessly follow to your next location. But, there was nothing here.

A frown pulled her lips downwards as her shoulders deflated; what else could your note have meant? Where else in the world could you be?

Another pair of footsteps echoed around her, hastier than hers had been and heavier in their approach. Caution taking over, Yelena immediately ducked into a crouch and raised a gun to her attacker.

Except, it wasn’t an attacker, it was you. You, with eyes wide and hands raised in surrender even as you tried for a smile at her. When she gave no response except for a blank stare, slow blinks, and a stuttered breath, you giggled. Unsure how else to really react, the relief of seeing you again a little overwhelming after these hopeless months of chasing you, she broke into a snigger of her own. This lightness that you shared with one another cut through any awkwardness or uncertainty that may have otherwise overshadowed this bright reunion.

The laughter, as though it were magnetic, worked to pull you closer to one another. With words yet to be exchanged, you embraced each other. Chin resting against your shoulder, Yelena closed her eyes and continued to laugh even as tears sprang from her eyes.

After minutes that stretched like hours, she pulled back, gripped your arms, and spoke through the hoarseness of her throat. “You’re alive.”

You raised a hand, using a delicate fingertip to wipe away a stray tear, and nodded. “So are you,” you responded, voice far away as though you were making some wondrous epiphany.

Yelena wondered over so many questions; who had freed your mind from its slavery to the red room? How long had you been freed? Was it merely your paranoia pushing you to run from every shadow that lingered for too long? Or were you entrenched in some new darkness that she could help you escape?

You, also, had a plethora of questions fighting to escape you; how long had Yelena remained ensnared by the red room? Had she found her sister, who she spoke of so very often? Had she disappeared like so many others all those years ago or had she been following your clues for all the years you had been leaving them?

It had been so long that you had all but given up on her finding you. You had begun to leave the notes as more a ritual in her honour, reminding yourself that your one true friend had been real and deserved to be remembered no matter where she had ended up.

But here she was after all these years.

The pair of you remained gormless in your shocked relief for a brief while before your excitement got the better of you and your face split into a beaming grin.

Rushing forward again, you crushed her into a more aggressively friendly embrace than the first. “I missed you so much!”

She returned your likely overzealous embrace with similar zeal and nodded with a small sob. “I’ve got so much to tell you.”

Momento

Summary: After having her mind freed, Yelena finds a tattoo on her wrist. As she ponders where it came from, a piece of you returns to her.

A/N: Please let me know what you think! I’m trying to come up with different characters to write for so let me know if there’s anyone you’d like to see! :)

MasterlistIRequests

Part Two

The red mist had cut through the haze in her mind like a knife. It had been like waking up from some strange terrible dream, a groggy feeling weighing her down even as she felt a sudden horror rear its head. The woman who had freed her had passed away quickly, the wound in her stomach fatal as had been Yelena’s original terrible intention. Guilt had immediately rumbled through her at the sight of the limp figure upon the asphalt. This woman had freed her, at her own expense, and Yelena had barely had time to thank her.

She had left the scene quickly, recognising that sticking around were foolish if she wanted her freedom to last. As she had left the scene, wandering the city with this newfound freedom, she had realised the fog over her mind had not been entirely cleared. The red mist had allowed her some clarity but the fog was dissipating only slowly. Thoughts, feelings, and surface level memories had all haltingly pinged through her mind as she had mindlessly found herself a place to stay.

The hotel she had stumbled across was run down, the ceiling crumbling slightly each time she forced the front door open, but it was subtle. They asked no questions at the desk, even waving away her bloodied face with disinterest as they had handed her the rusted key. She wouldn’t be found here; she could let herself decompress.

Peeling her clothes off, rumpling her nose at the blood staining the dark material, she yanked the stiffened shower handle. The water spurted out violently for a moment until the pressure evened out leaving a steady, if slightly limp, stream of steaming water.

Stepping into the chipped ceramic at the bottom of the shower, Yelena let her shoulders drop against the warm water. She scrubbed her face, letting the water wash away the grime and sweat and blood of the day.

As she scrubbed over her skin, a strange dark patch at her wrist caught her attention. Narrowing her eyes at this splodge of darkness, Yelena focused her gaze upon what she now recognised as a tattoo. Clearly, it was not a professional tattoo, she doubted the red room would have allowed that. But it was clear enough in the quality; the line work too uneven and the colour fading. As Yelena wondered over this uneven, fading flower tattooed onto her wrist, a memory pushed itself to the fore-front of her mind; taking her breath away.

———————————————————————

Your hair tickled the bare skin of her thigh, your hair fanning around you as you laid on her bed, a pleasant laughter bubbled through her chest at the sensation. The lightness of this moment with you was in such strange contrast to the dark steel walls enclosing the pair of you. It was almost funny. You hummed to yourself, a strand of your hair twirling about your fingers as you became lost in thought; each passing day brought with it greater dread. You were both getting closer to the final step. You tried not to think of it but on nights like this the knowledge tainted every laugh and whisper and secret.

Your lips twisted down and she watched that dread overtake you. Your eyebrows pressed together, the shine of your eyes reflecting the harsh overhead lighting, and your storm of thoughts almost visible if she were to look deep enough. Determination cut through your dread, resetting your features into a tragic kind of acceptance.

You sat up quickly, causing Yelena to jump almost a foot in the air at the surprise. “I have an idea,” you told her. Your words were rushed out, the invisible clock that constantly ticked down almost audible behind your words. A panic had settled into your bones, Yelena could see it, and you were rushing to act. Your friendship had settled the nerves of the both of you over the years, but as you neared the end even the salve of your friendship could not soothe you. You were rifling through her only drawer, your actions reckless in hurry. She could only sit back and watch, blindsided by your sudden action in what had been such a slow moment. “You have a pen?” You threw over your shoulder.

Yelena shrugged back at you, still watching your back with an agape mouth. “Uh…”

You answered for her. “I got it,” you flourished the pen in your left hand before immediately breaking it apart with your right.

Slowly, a question fell from Yelena. “What are you doing?”

Ink cartridge of the pen laid carefully on the side, the broken plastic casing kicked under the bed, you were now fiddling with the safety pin you kept twisted in your hair. Hidden from prying eyes.

You snapped the sharp point from the hinge and replaced the point of the pen with your newly made pin. Eyebrows raising, Yelena called your name in hope of gaining some kind of answer from you.

Your shoulders dropped considerably at her insistence but your ministrations continued. A lighter now pulled from some hidden pocket and into your hands. “It won’t be long now,” you told her, bringing the contraption closer and sitting beside her. “You got me through this, Yelena, I don’t wanna forget you even when they force me to.”

Taken aback, Yelena fumbled over words as you pressed the contraption into her fingertips. The pair of you had made an unspoken agreement to leave the future wilfully undiscussed. An agreement that all the girls seemed to share; their friendships and even some romantic relationships rooted in the present with no mention of a future. It was easier for all the girls here to simply ignore the impending doom upon the horizon. It was a fact you would all one day be forced to forget each other. There was nothing to be done but to live in ignorance. Yelena had supported you throughout the trauma of the red room, and you her and the truth of your situation had not mattered. But now here you were, forcing the truth into the limelight.

Finding no eloquence, Yelena nodded and simply asked; “what… do I do?” Her acceptance of your request slowed your wringing hands and settled your breaths.

You talked her through the process, telling her she could mark you however she liked; in the end neither of you would understand this symbol of your closeness.

Yelena was far from artistic, at least she had assumed as much after years of battle hardening, and so the mark she left upon you was a mere uneven ‘Y’. When you looked to your wrist, to the mark now sat just above your pulse, you smiled softly. A grief shone in your eyes, for memories you were yet to lose.

Yelena wiped the tears from your cheeks, calloused fingertips soft as they traced the tracks. “Can you do me?” You grasped the fingers still upon your face, squeezed them lightly, and nodded with a deep breath.

Twisting her hand, cradling her wrist in your palm, you worked your lip as you considered. The sting of the pin did not bother Yelena. Her attention not shifting from your features as you watched yourself work with a determined concentration. Her lips pulled up at the sight. A happiness, however temporary, pooled in her chest in moments like these. It felt as though you were a pair of giggling schoolgirls at a sleepover whispering your secrets to each other. Yelena had never experienced anything like that, making friends had not been encouraged when she had been undercover, but this felt more than enough. A lightness that made her dizzy and a little too carefree overtook her.

When you finished your mark, you verbally diverted her gaze to view your work. “I hope you like it,” you told her with a giggle, “it’s kinda permanent.”

She huffed a laugh as she traced her eyes over the delicate lines. The petals were all slightly different sizes but compared to her wonky attempt on your wrist it was perfection. “I like it.” She confirmed, eyeing the ‘y’ on your wrist and feeling a little guilty that she hadn’t tried harder.

Reorienting her eyes upon you, you nodded. “Me too.”

Yelena pulled her hand free to grasp yours, a squeezing pressure that pushed her appreciation into you. What these years would have been like without you, Yelena could not begin to consider. Had it been a mistake, relying on one another so greatly?

Maybe it had been. Either way, it didn’t matter, Yelena could not stop the words as they fell from her. “I’m gonna miss you.”

There was no surprise upon your features at the words. Your eyes fell shut, a quiet smile joined with a single nod as you pressed your forehead to hers. “I know,” you whispered, “I’ll miss you too.”

A repetitive, rhythmic clanging sounded through the room. It seemed to echo all around you but the pair of you had been stealing these moments together for long enough that you recognised the warning. The girls here were not encouraged to help one another in any way, but they always did. A small rebellion in the face of the red room. This noise was a warning, passed on from room to room, from girl to girl, that room checks were taking place. You were not the only pair that would sneak into each other’s rooms, and everyone worked together to allow this continue.

Your time tonight had run out, it was time for you to leave Yelena’s room.

Automatically, the pair of you moved. The hatch that led to the ventilation space above Yelena’s room was already hanging open. You never bothered to close it after you in case you needed a swift exit. Silently, the pair of you huddled beneath it.

Usually, you would waste no time. Yelena would give you a leg up, you would immediately climb into the vents and proceed to drag yourself quickly back to your own room. Today, you both loitered; something felt different about today.

You pulled her into your arms. The embrace was short, as much as you both meandered you knew it was never safe to linger long after a warning, but the fierceness with which she held you was unrelenting. Pulling away, you shared a gaze filled with unspoken things - full of promises of what could have been. What should have been.

Eventually, she helped you up. Eventually, you dragged yourself back to your room.

Yelena went to training the next morning, the endless routine numbing in its repetition, but you weren’t there.

You had been moved to the next stage and she would not see you again. Yet her mind would linger on memories of you like the last leaf clinging to the tree when all others had crumpled and fallen. Your mind would not think of her, it would not know to grieve, but her initial would remain upon your wrist. The flower on her own wrist burned like a scorching reminder every day she was without you. Her best friend had been taken from her, and there was nothing she could do.

It would continue to burn until the memory of you was torn away. Until the mark on her wrist became nothing more to her than a faded splodge of artistic ink.

———————————————————————

Hands pressed before her like a desperate prayer, Yelena pressed her eyes shut. The salt of her tears washed away with the stream of steaming water. But the ink upon her wrist remained forever, stark against her wrist just as the memory of you was suddenly shining in her mind.

She couldn’t help a tired yet hopeful part of her from wondering; where are you?

Switch to me//Yelena x reader

Yelena was aware that you had a girlfriend. How could she not? You told her one time during your study session, tucking a hair strand behind your ear as you uttered words that made her heart drop, “my girlfriend and I…” Her whole body switched cold at that moment, and the only sound she can hear was her own heartbeat.

To her, you were out of reach but now knowing your heart belonged to another, also, you were simply impossible to reach. What made Yelena even sadder was the fact your girlfriend wasn’t a terrible person. Describing her as decent wouldn’t be enough, she was a very good partner with the way she treated you with utmost affection and love she never saw in her entire life.

But she still couldn’t help feeling that it was such a waste that you settled with someone else, and not her.

“My girlfriend has the same one.” You pointed at her jacket, sat on the chair next to her as you began fixing your stationary. Yelena had to physically stop herself from saying the only reason she changed her style recently, was to look more like your type.

“She remembered your anniversary?” Yelena asked, hoping that your girlfriend forgot it so she can whisper in your ear like what the snake did to Eve. You sighed, “she didn’t, but I don’t blame her cuz I forgot about it too,” then zipped your pencil case open, “was too busy with finals and all and she’s got job interviews, so it’s all right.”

“That’s how it starts, saying life got in the way of it all and then you two will start arguing and then it will end up in a bad break up.” Yelena said, you only chuckled and shook your head—taking her words lightly, “thank you for worrying, but we’re doing completely fine!”

Yelena rolled her eyes and had to physically stop herself from saying that this is what she is fearing, and that she wasn’t worried at all. In fact, she would find any holes in the relationships to exploit the vulnerabilities.

But weeks passed, then snowballed into months and your relationship with your girlfriend never ended. It weighed on Yelena’s heart, nowadays just seeing you made her unable to breathe. She was told that time would make it easier, and that she would get used to it. But time didn’t do anything, but only sprinkle slat to her wound.

Because as time went on, your relationship got stronger to the point of you saying that you suspected your girlfriend was going to propose. Just hearing those words made her stomach churn and lose all the color in her face. That was when Yelena decided to stop meeting you completely and begin avoiding you like the plague. She ignored your calls and built walls whenever she couldn’t avoid you.

Though fate had other plans, on the night of your graduation day when your whole department went out for drinks. You were there, with a pretty smile and talks about your supportive girlfriend, and words that made Yelena down liquor irresponsibly, hoping that it would numb the pain.

Now, normally, Yelena wasn’t the type of drunk that would go around uncovering her deepest secrets easily. But she would uncover them if she were asked about them, so when you asked, “why are you ignoring me? Did I do something wrong?”

She simply wasn’t able to stop herself from slurring, “because I’m in love with you.”

“What?”

“You should break up with her, switch to me, I’m so much better than her.” Yelena said, dropping her weight on your figure. Stumbling a little, you gathered your balance before saying, “you’re way too drunk for this conversation.”

“Yes, but they say drunks say the truth,” she said, picking up her weight from your body just to gently pat your head, “you’re too perfect to have one girlfriend, you know, you can cheat on her with me, and I won’t say anything,”

“What the hell are you even saying?—”

“You know I don’t mind being the other woman,” Yelena interrupted you, her palm covering your mouth, you pulled her hand away as you frowned “you’re clearly in a bad state, we should have this talk sometime else because right now…” before Yelena can drop her weight over your body in a caged embrace, you stepped back.

“I love you, (Y/N).”

“Goodbye, Yelena.”

ToxicYelena loves dating insecure and mentally ill women, because they’re the kinds that make their whole lives revolve her, the kinds that are just happy to receive her love even if it isn’t full or good.

She meets you, and you happen to be that type. She would thrive off your clinginess and the way she can simply break your heart with a word or two. Oh and the way she can give you a single look and you would cry on command. Also the fact you love her even more than you love yourself, and because you would forgive her no matter how many times she wronged you.

She cheated on you? It’s not a problem, you will blame yourself for not being enough. She hit you? It’s fine, you must’ve done something to anger her to the point she couldn’t control her fist.

ToxicYelena loves it all, and loves making you gloomier than you already were. She adores being the reason you’re crying but also the reason to bring you comfort.

“aww you’re so pretty uwu ❤️” reader x “I will fuck you in front of a mirror” yelena

I’m back with a new edit people…

NEVER NOT (LAUV) MARVEL EDITION

Like and reblog ❤❤

@turbolisedcomet,@zemosimp05,@jobean12-blog,@lokihiddleston,@lovelybarnes,@handmaiden-of-mischief,@lil-stark,@lil-nas-z,@lokisprettygirl,…