Ari!

HI!! I write sometimes, bear with me 💐

[dustibunily]

I'M GOING TO SUCK HIS COCK AND THAT SUIT STAYS ON

[consistentlyguessing]

PANCAKES FOR DINNER

synopsis: You’ve never wanted kids. Steve knew that. But watching him at your family dinner might change your mind.

warnings: fluff, established relationship, kind of suggestive, constant struggle to write kiss scenes 💔, not proof read (yet), 2nd person pov (sorry ladies), mostly gender neutral but kind of feminine?

A/N: i thought abt making this literally all day and it took me forever. ok. maybe it’s good. idk. fingers crossed

If Steve Harrington knew only one thing about you, you did not want kids. The first (and last) time he brought it up, you two were sitting on his couch watching The Sandlot. You were all snuggled up together, and he had a protective arm wrapped around you to keep Lucas from kicking you in his sleep.

He was in complete adoration of the movie, watching the kids rally together. It reminded him of The Party, which was mostly asleep on his floor right now. Except for Will, who had night terrors whenever he slept anywhere but his house. He turned to you and whispered a soft, “Imagine if our kids turned out like that.” It wasn’t threatening, or saying that he wanted to have a baby that second, it was pure adulation in his voice. But it had clearly alerted you. You jolted up, his arm falling from your shoulder down to your waist, he watched as you fumbled for the right words to say.

Attempting to be aware of the sleeping children in the room, you spoke lowly, “Steve, I’m not— I don’t want kids.” You said, squinting your eyes slightly to brace for the whine that came from Steve. He didn’t whine though, he just tilted his head, “Why?” Not what you were expecting, but sure.

“I dunno…I’m the oldest, I’ve had enough time around children, especially ones like them.” You said, pointing to the TV. “I don’t like the chaos, either.”

That was all you needed to say, he dropped it. He had learned from Nancy years ago. He nodded and hummed softly, watching as Lucas stirred in his sleep next to you guys on the couch.

About a year later, Steve was driving to your parent’s place for a Christmas dinner. You were sitting in the passenger seat, all dressed up, looking perfect like always. He didn’t think he looked too bad himself, with his cream quarter zip and jeans.

To call him nervous would be an understatement, usually he’d drive with one hand on the wheel and the other resting comfortably on your thigh. He’d have the windows down and the heat up, some music playing, but today was different.

He had his hands at ten and two, despite it being an outdated way to steer, the windows were up and locked, and he made sure that there was absolutely no noise coming from the radio. He had met one of your brothers before, who seemed to love him, but the rest of your family was a completely new territory. One that he wasn’t sure he had the confidence to venture into.

You glanced over at him every now and then, reaching over to give his hand a reassuring squeeze on the wheel. It did not calm him.

He chewed on his lip, he was listing everything off in his head that could go wrong, maybe your dad would chase him off the porch with a shotgun. Maybe your siblings would hate him and trip him purposefully into your mom’s banana pudding that she worked so hard on to make. Jesus, he could see it now. Everyone would laugh at him, and you’d shun him and kick him out. He’d walk back to his car like a beaten dog and hide out in a forrest for the rest of his life. They’d call him—

“Steve, we’re here.” You said, already out of the car. When had you guys arrived? “You gonna come eat or just sit in the car like you’ve pissed your pants all night?” You asked, walking around to his car door and opening it for him.

Realizing that he had forgotten to open your door only made him feel worse. He got out of the car and shut the door behind him. You stood in front of him, smoothing out his collar and fixing up the stray pieces of hair that fell from their gel hold on the way here. Probably from the excessive worrying he had been doing the drive down.

“You need to relax, they’ll love you. I’ve never seen you so nervous, Harrington.” You teased, harmless of course, but it felt much worse. You urged him to go ahead of you as you reached inside the car and took the key out of the engine. Shit. He had forgotten that too?

He stood still as he watched you throw the keys in your bag, it complimented your outfit so well. You wrapped your arm around his bicep and gave him a loving squeeze of assurance before walking him inside.

When you stepped inside, it was like he was transported to another dimension. The upside down was more familiar to him than this. Immediately your extended family ran up to you, greeting you and hugging you. Some older ladies asked who the, “devilishly handsome man” on your arm was. Steve didn’t even know people still said that. You just blushed and introduced him before finally making your way through the house and to the kitchen.

When your mother saw you, she frowned, approaching you with a warm hug and tearful eyes. “It’s been too long, baby! We’ve missed you so much! You never visit!” She wept, squeezing your shoulders as she looked at you. Your father walked up behind her, eye level with Steve. He didn’t say anything, just nodded at him, of course Steve reciprocated.

Did he always feel this sweaty?

As your siblings approached you, and begged you to go play outside on the swing-set, you couldn’t help but roll your eyes. “Fine, thirty minutes. Then me and Steve are going back inside.” They nodded enthusiastically, not noticing Steve in their rush to use the best of their time.

You and Steve sat next to each other on the swings as your siblings ran through the yard screaming. “Rowdy bunch.” He said to you, maybe his first word of the evening. You laughed, “Tell me about it.”

Out of nowhere, your youngest brother, Zach, ran up to Steve, taking him by surprise. He was only maybe 7, which was obvious by the Cheetos hands and runny nose. “Hey, so, my brother.” He said, pointing somewhere in the distance at, what he was sure was another kid, “He likes to color, but honestly me? I am not a colorer. I prefer to run. I’m really fast. Hey, wannaseemerun? I’mrealfast.” Zach spoke fast and didn’t wait for a response before bolting off, “He’s pretty fast.” He whispered to you, “Where do you think they get it from?” You giggled, pinching his arm affectionately.

Steve couldn’t help but muse at you for a moment before a group of kids came running up to him again. These ones, he was sure, weren’t your siblings. “Hey. Can you watch me slide?” One of the kids said, “and me too?” another spoke up. Before long, it was a plethora of children asking him to watch them slide, some of them were little, so they needed him to catch them.

He nodded to all of them, how could he resist their faces? He glanced over at you momentarily, you grinned and waved him off. He groaned, slapping both of his hands on his knees as he got up. The group of giggles ran off to the slide and he followed close behind.

Steve clapped everytime a kid went down the slide, cheering for them, the whole nine yards. Before long, he had a child on his hip who couldn’t be more than five. Neither of you were sure who she belonged to, but the blonde hair and green eyes were too adorable for him to tell her no. You watched from afar for a little bit, grinning incessantly at him.

Before long, you had snuck up behind him and were watching the kids with him. Your chin adorning his shoulder as you stood on your tippy toes to reach him.

At dinner, you two sat next to each other and let the children file in beside you. Your youngest brother was practically on Steve’s lap, and your moody little sister was sitting next to you, muttering something about the cranberry sauce tasting less than satisfactory in your ear.

It wasn’t long before your mother spoke up, “So, you and Steve thinking about having kids?” She asked, shoveling a piece of asparagus into her mouth.

Steve choked on his water momentarily, and you watched as your father’s calm and collected expression faltered only momentarily before straightening itself out.

“Well, we uh, we haven’t talked about it much.” You responded bashfully, the warmth of your neck spreading up to your cheeks. Your mom hummed, and you were certain you could hear your cousins making dirty jokes at the end of the table.

Your uncle was the first to speak up, his voice a combination of gravel in a blender and velvet. He had been drinking, his hot breath wafted into Steve’s nose as he sat across from him.

“That’s what you’re doing wrong, you’re not supposed to talk about it!” He teased, wincing at the elbow to his ribs that your aunt gracefully gave him.

You let your eyes widen only slightly before clearing your throat. The rest of the dinner goes smoothly.

On the way back to Steve’s place, you admire him from the passenger seat. The windows were down. He had his left hand on the wheel, his pointer finger drumming along to the beat on the radio. His right hand was resting complacent on your thigh. He glanced over at you once, twice, the metronome of street lamps illuminating his face in a golden light that you were sure was something he could do on command. “What’s the matter?” He asked, directing his attention back on the road, “Just thinking.” You smiled at him, feeling the last bit of tension from the dinner melt away.

When you two arrived at Steve’s, you let him peel your coat off and hang it up on the rack. The one you begged him for months to get. He was…messy to say the least, but you assured him that getting a coat rack would help. It did.

You took off your shoes, placing them beside the door in a careful routine. It was like second nature, that’s what you always did when you entered his home. “Y’know, Steve, I’ve been thinking.” You said, feeling his hand absentmindedly gripping your waist to scoot behind you and into the kitchen. “Hm?” He responded, you followed behind him like a puppy.

“About what I said…I think I might’ve changed my mind.” You reached for the wine in his cabinet, straining yourself only slightly before getting a firm grasp on the bottle. You poured yourself and him a glass, letting the curiosity in the room relish just a moment longer.

You took a sip, your voice was still heavy as you spoke, swallowing in the process. “About kids.” You could almost see the fire igniting in Steve’s eyes. You chewed back a grin, “I don’t think I hate the idea of a mini me running around.” He beamed, you almost shrunk at the cheesiness of your sentence.

“Really?” He asked, placing his wine glass down and stepping toward you. You rolled your eyes coyly, fighting the blush that crept up to your nose. He grinned, peppering a few small kisses in the crook of your neck. You moved away from him and sighed, “Seriously, I think we could talk about it a little more.”

Steve couldn’t hide his smile as he lifted you onto the counter, stepping between your thighs and running his hands along your waist. He placed a thoughtful kiss atop your lips, soft and warm. You all but grinned against his lips, wrapping your arms around his neck.

You let him sink in further to you, placing a more tenacious kiss against your rosy lips. And then another, and then another, maybe a few more. You giggled into his lips, letting your hands find their way into his tousled hair.

You begrudgingly let out a quiet whimper into his mouth as he squeezes your waist, he takes that as his sign to up the volume. He takes the opportunity of your open mouth to weasel his tongue inside your mouth, you grin against his lips, not trying to fight back.

You let him go on for a few moments longer, the kiss getting increasingly more intense. A few shared groans and, what you would describe as, the most needy you’ve ever seen Steve snaps you out of it. You pull back from him, your eyes finding his big, sad, seal ones. “I said we’d talk about it, not make one tonight.” He frowned, peppering kisses on your jaw, “When has talking ever gotten anyone anywhere?” He mumbled against you, not letting up. “How do you think the founding fathers decided where to put the capital?” you inquired, he looked up only for a second to roll his eyes. He let his lips trail back down to your neck, and to your collarbone, and you almost let him, a breathy sigh falling from your lips.

“Stevie, I mean it. We’ve gotta talk about this.” He let up, frowning for a moment as he helped you off the counter, “I’m sure that’s not the advice your uncle gave us tonight.” He said from behind you as you walked ahead of him, wine glass in hand. “I don’t trust anything my uncle says, I’m surprised you do.”

Steve trails behind you like a lost puppy, pupils blown. He sits next to you on the couch, mentally preparing himself for the long, extensive talk you had prepared. Though he was sure that if he played his cards right, there’d be more than a talk coming.

[consistentlyguessing]

EVERYTHING IS BLUE

synopsis- Mike and his unresolved feelings for his best friend have more of an effect on him than he realized.

warnings- comma abuse, author doesn’t know how to write a kiss scene, bychance ship, not proof read, AU WHERE NONE OF THE BAD STUFF HAPPENS, takes place between season 4 and 5, Mileven is nonexistent

A/N: this is kind of rushed, but idk it seemed okay when i was writing it. lololol cringe kiss scene. idk im byler brainrotted

Mike Wheeler groaned as he shuffled into his minimum wage work place. Robin had got him a job at the diner downtown, since Ted insisted that 16 year old boys with brand new cars needed to get a job. To teach responsibility, or to get him out of the house? The world may never know.

Robin, who was previously busting tables, squealed as the Wheeler walked in, “Micheal, Mike and Ike, Mike the man, Mike uh—“

“Stop at your leisure.” He interrupted, walking behind the counter and clocking in. He solemnly tied his red and white striped apron around his waist, as Robin threw her head back in a fit of giggles. Apparently she was always like this. The diner was dead, only some random dude eating a burger in the corner like always.

“How’s things with uh— Victor?” He asked, resting his head in his palm. Robin’s face stuttered for a moment, as if to say, “Who?” Before sighing in realization, “Oh, right, Victor.” She hummed, twirling a piece of hair in her left hand, “He’s doing great, just got a cool new job at the hospital.”

“Bet he’s getting paid.” He muttered, standing up straight as a customer walked in. She walked up, chewing a piece of gum. He took her order, only rolling his eyes every-time she smacked the minty fresh gum.

Robin watched her as the woman walked away before turning back to Mike and plastering a gaudy expression on her face and pointing towards her. Mike hid a smile, not wanting to seem rude.

Will walked in only a few minutes after, El trailing behind. They visited when he worked sometimes, but El just needed to use the bathroom today. Will walked up to the counter, looking at the menu and chewing his lip. Had he used a different chapstick? The cherry scent was wafting in his face almost effortlessly.

“Yeah, let me get uh, 55 burritos and 23 vanilla milkshakes.” Will said, looking down at Mike. “Har Har. Do you actually want something or are you planning on pestering me all night?” Mike scoffed, Will laughed and glanced back at El, who was chewing on her fingernail.

“El, please, Mom already told you to stop.” Will warned, El widened her eyes and made a “ooh” face. She walked to the bathroom, like she always did when they came here. Will directed his attention back to Mike, who caught himself staring at Will’s messy hair for longer than he should’ve.

“How’s Nance?” Will asked, tilting his head slightly, revealing the mole on his neck. If you were to put all of Will’s features on display, and had Mike rank them, that mole would be number one. It was so Will. He shook his head, what was his deal today? “Yeah, Nance is alright. She and Jonathan hung out today, so I guess they’re over that argument.” Mike muttered, snapping out of his trance. He was beginning to notice Will had that effect on him.

Eventually, Will and El left and Robin approached him a brow raised. “Are you kidding?” Robin asked, scoffing. Mike furrowed his brows, “What?”

“Everyday, you continue to eye fuck Will and it becomes more obvious as time goes on.” Robin rounded the counter, standing beside him at the register.

“I do not!” Mike protested, and Robin all but sighed, “Look, all I’m saying is, Will likes you, but Chance has been doing more than just looking at him lately. Better step your game up, Wheeler.” She patted his back before stepping into the kitchen to mop, the doors swinging in her wake.

The next day at school, Mike felt Robin’s words more than before. Chance always sat that close in science? Who decided on those conjoined tables anyway? They were always warm and showed when your palms had been sweating the whole class period. You basically had to be touching elbows the entire class, clearly Chance had no issue with that. God, neither did Will. Who cares? Will would never go for a guy like Chance. Football player with an ugly haircut and rich parents. Whatever. Them liking each other is bullshit.

Who cares? Mike didn’t even like Will. It doesn’t even matter if Will is kicking Chance’s foot underneath the table and laughing at whatever Chance said.

Safe to say the campaign that Saturday didn’t go well. Mike couldn’t help but let his anger get to him. Not that he was jealous, he was just frustrated at a lot of stuff.

Mike sat at the head of the table, dnd book in hand as he watched Will, who was sat at the other end of the table, roll the dice. “Sorry, book says you were eaten by a demodog.” He mumbled, turning to Dustin for his turn. “What?!” Will protested, “Come on, I’m a sorcerer, how do I get eaten?”

“Book doesn’t lie, Will.” Mike responded, still looking at Dustin. Dustin glanced back and forth, tension had been high all night, everyone noticed. Max had tried to point it out, but Lucas had hushed her. Dustin hesitantly rolled, “Huzzah! And Nog the Dwarf Bard finishes the demodog and allows the rest of the party, not Will the Wise, who, again, was eaten alive by a rabid demodog, to advance deeper into the forrest!” He cheered despite the silence from the others.

Then, it was time for dinner. Mrs Wheeler had made Steak for everyone, along with some asparagus and fries. They sat at the table, picking at the asparagus. Mike had a plate full of fries, but as he saw Will reaching for the plate, Mike grabbed the rest of them and tossed them on his plate. “Sorry, Will, I’m starving.” He dragged out the “a.” Everyone looked at each other, brows furrowed. Though they knew better than to say something when Mike was in one of his moods.

Then the party was hanging out in the basement again, chit chatting despite the awkwardness between the bestfriends. Will was quickly forced to silence every time he spoke by some snarky remark from Mike.

“Oh yeah I bet Chance would love that joke.”

“No, Will, Chance likes thriller movies.”

“Chance told me—“

“Chance…”

“Chance…”

Every other word it seemed was Chance or Will. Every one could see the common denominator, except Will who was hopelessly clueless, which may be for the better.

Mike stood up, only to be shoved into a corner by Lucas. He grunted, feeling his back hit the wall. “Dude what the hell?” He shoved Lucas, only for Lucas to shove him again, his back ramming into the wall again. “Get your act together, now. I don’t know what you and Will have going on, but it’s ruining the party! Everyone’s uncomfortable. Either fess up, or cut it out.” Lucas warned.

The rest of the month, Mike couldn’t focus in class. He couldn’t stop watching Chance and Will interact in every. single. class. Mike chewed his pencil, scoffing as Will shoved Chance’s shoulder and threw his head back in laughter.

Mike wadded up the piece of paper on his desk, throwing it at Chance but narrowly missing and striking Will square on the back of his head. He shrunk in his seat, he was never good at baseball.

Will turned around, looked at Mike, and felt his brows twist in confusion. Will didn’t know what his problem was, like, they had always been good friends, why was he now upset?

Mike continued to brood in his seat until the class period was over.

Two months had passed since then, and Mike had started avoiding Will completely. He wouldn’t walk with him to class, or invite him to the campaigns, or wait until he was free to see the new ghostbusters. It was like Will never existed, and he hated feeling that way. It had honestly hurt him more than he cared to admit.

It wasn’t until Mike got another talk from Robin about not being a pussy that he sped over to the Byer’s residence. It was raining, and he should’ve taken his jacket, but he was laser focused as he left Robin’s.

The talk had came from Robin coming out to Mike, you can’t exactly pass your girlfriend off as a roommate if there’s only one room and a bunch of polaroids of you two kissing and being on romantic dates on the wall. It took a lot of courage, but eventually she told him, and when he wasn’t disgusted, she helped guide him into the realization Mike needed.

Mike and Will had been friends since the dawn of time. They learned how to ride bikes together, and everytime Mike fell or scuffed his knee, Will nursed him back to health. The first time Mike got into a fight was for Will, it left him bloody and bruised, as he was not a good fighter. Some guys were calling him Zombie-Boy as he walked through the halls and Will almost cried. It infuriated Mike. He threw the first punch and ended up on the floor. Will walked him home and gave him an ice pack along with some hot chocolate he found in the cabinets.

Mike had figured that was when he knew. Robin listened to him explain the memory, his eyes glistening with admiration as he spoke of Will. She frowned, and place a comforting hand on his. He didn’t say anything and blinked away a couple tears.

It took a few more hours to warm up to the idea, but eventually Mike knew that he had to at least say something. Robin and Vickie watched as Mike ran out of the house. Vickie turned to Robin, “Stop giving teenagers our address.” She said, locking the door behind him.

It was too late for Mike to be banging on the door like he was. Mike heard Will from the inside of the house ushering to the door, his mom wasn’t home and Jonathan was far too depressed about Nancy and his arguments to care about the door.

He swung the door open, his expression softening at the boy across from him. He was soaked from the rain, and the puppy boy eyes that he wore so well found themselves boring into his soul. Will stuttered as he spoke, “Mike? What are you doing?”

“Will, I don’t know how to say this. I mean, I- well I spoke to Robin, and I dunno, she made a good point. I’m sorry about Chance and you, I don’t know why I made a big scene. Well, I do, but, I don’t know how to explain it.” He ran a disheveled hand through his hair.

“Fuck, Will. Man, I’m so sorry I don’t even know why I’m here. I just—“ Will rested an assuring hand on his shoulder, “Calm down, Mike. Talk to me.” Will said, watching a shaky breath come from Mike.

Mike swallowed, letting his breath even out. “I spoke to Robin.” He began, watching as Will nodded. “And I came to a realization, but I feel like it might be too little too late.” He sighed, “I know you and Chance are happy together, I’m sure. I just, I just need you to know.

Will felt his breath hitch ever so slightly as Mike spoke, “I really like you, Will. Hell, I might even love you. And I’m sorry it took me so long to realize, but I know now. I know you’re with Chance, but I can’t keep lying to myself, or you.”

Will tried to hide the smile that crept up on his face as he watched the quiver in Mikes lip. “Mike, Chance and I are lab partners. We’re required to get along basically.” He said, stepping out into the rain and shutting the door behind him.

“I laugh at his jokes because I don’t want to seem rude. Mike, I like you too. You’re an idiot if you think I don’t.” He laughed, Mike felt himself melting.

“Seriously?” He asked, his voice cracking. Will nodded, “Oh my god Will.” He chuckled, glancing between his eyes. Mike watched him for a second, assessing him like he always did. His breathing was a little uneven, and his clothes were long soaked, his hair was a mess. Everything about him was perfect. Before he could process what he was doing, Mike grabbed his face and pulled him in for a hasty kiss. His eyes glued shut, fearing rejection, but when Will didn’t pull away, he melted into the kiss.

It only lasted for a second or two before Mike pulled away, but it felt like years. Will looked up at him, his eyes glistening, Mike could feel himself tearing up. Why had he pushed this down for so long?

“I like you, Will. So much.” Mike held his face still, Will brought his hands up to touch Mike’s and pulled them down, lacing their hands together. He smiled warmly at him. “I like you too, Mike. But next time, just call me instead of making me stand out in the rain.” He teased, tilting his head as if he was asking a question.

“For sure.” Mike laughed before pulling him in to another kiss. This time, Mike could’ve sworn he felt his worries melt away. Maybe if he prayed hard enough, they could stay like this forever.

[consistentlyguessing]

Girl Crush

Summary

Crushing on Yelena Belova is proven to be difficult. Even more so when you catch her making goo goo eyes at John Walker.

Warnings

THUNDERBOLTS SPOILERS, ending kinda rushed? comma abuse, angst with happy ending, reader lowkey stupid, reader lowkey makes hasty decisions, JOHN WALKER!!, fem!reader, she/her pronouns, y/n used, not proof read, 2nd person pov. Das all bye

A/N

I KNOW this is not what the song is abt technically. But I heard it & thought of her. Obviously I do not ship John & Yelena. Also I listened to phoebe bridgers while I wrote this so it’s extra sad. I swear I’ll start writing abt other characters soon 😞. Bye Bye

After a group of misfits joined together to take down a common enemy, they accidentally were roped into a knock off avengers(Z) group.

The group consisted of; John Walker, a Captain America wannabe who was demoted after killing an innocent civilian, Ava Starr, who can turn intangible, Bucky Barnes, a former congressman, Bob Reynolds, some rando with insane powers, you (of course) and Yelena, an ex assassin.

Yelena was like the only person to ever walk the earth, in your eyes anyway. Her thick Russian accent was like honey. She had gorgeous blonde hair that she kept slicked back. Her green eyes that could make you float by stealing just a glance.

Everyone in the tower had picked up just how head over heels you were for her, except for Yelena. Whenever one of the Thunderbolts* saw you and her in the same room, they wouldn’t hesitate to tease you.

Ava would whistle and raise her eyebrows at the two of you, Bob would sing a poor rendition of “Careless Whisper” which was almost too much for your ears to handle. John made sure you were throughly embarrassed if he ever caught you eyeing Yelena. He would tap your jaw and whisper something to you about “drooling all over the freshly mopped floors.” Despite him never being one to handle the chores. Alexi was the worst one, though. He made an entire scene about it. Shout something about “lovebirds” and first love.

Never in a million years would you think to confess to her. But here you were, standing at the door of her favorite coffee shop, trying to hype yourself up. Flowers were never Yelena’s thing, you knew that. So, you had a blanket, crocheted to look like roses when folded. It was something you made yourself, originally just as a friendly gift. However, Ava engraved it in your mind that if you didn’t do something soon, you’d miss the window.

You opened the door gently, walking up to the front. By now, you already had her order memorized. Every day, Yelena would invite you on a morning run, where you’d get coffee shortly thereafter. It was the little moments of bonding time that ultimately made you sick to your stomach with butterflies every time she was around.

The barista recognized you instantly, he waved at you, a small and tired smile on his face. “The usual, Miss Y/n?” He questioned, examining the blanket poking out of your large tote bag.

You nodded, “Yeah. Let me get Yelena’s order too. I’m gonna bring it back to her.” You voiced, your throat feeling a little dry with nerves. The barista looked up at you, brow furrowed. You returned the look, not sure of what was going through his mind.

He looked across the room, “She’s already ordered.” He claimed, gesturing to a table behind you. You whipped your head around, confused. Scanning the room, a gasp elicited from your lips as your eyes landed on familiar blonde locks. A small frown appeared on your face, she was up earlier than usual today. As you continued to look at the table, a wave of shock hit your body. The person sitting with her was none other than John Walker. She giggled like a little girl, and shook her head at his teasing. Sarcastically rolling her eyes. John’s cheeks were rosy red, as if he had just said something bold and flirtatious.

Turning back to the barista, you shook your head and scrunched your face. “I don’t need it.” You said, cancelling your order. He shook his head in understanding, a look of pity flashing across his face. You spun on your heel and walked out of the shop as quickly as you came in.

As you walked through the streets, pushing and shoving past people, your mind raced. Of course you had seen them together before, but it was just for missions. Checking the perimeter, easy, team stuff. This was different. She was voluntarily hanging with him, laughing like something was funny.

How had you never picked up on this? How couldn’t you see the glint in her eyes when she looked at John? How could John do this to you? After all, he was relentless when it came to teasing you about your crush on Yelena. He would bring it up constantly. Hell, he even hyped you up to go talk to her. You two were pretty close, too.

Saddened by the events, you hurried into your room of the watch tower. You brushed past a smiling Ava who was excitedly asking you how it went. Alexi, who had just came out of the bathroom saw you speeding through the halls and called out to you.

You sat in your room, on your bed, all of the lights on, and questioned everything. The way Ava talked you up made you feel like Yelena absolutely liked you back. You stayed in there for a few hours, only coming out for a brief restroom break every now and then.

But of course, you can’t hide in your room for the rest of your life. Eventually, you’d have to come out and face the music.

Alexi had insisted when you guys first moved in that family dinners would be mandatory. Every night, someone would make dinner. It was a rotation. Alexi, Ava, Bob, You, John, and Yelena. Thankfully, it was Ava’s night to cook.

As you sat at the dinner table, in your unassigned-assigned seat, you watched how John and Yelena moved around the kitchen. It was as if they were doing this to you on purpose. He would whisper something into her ear and she would giggle. It was as if you were the only person seeing this too! Everyone else was acting as if it was completely normal.

As everyone began digging in, Alexi began talking. “How was everyone’s day? Good weather hm?” He said, shoveling mashed potatoes into his mouth. Everyone nodded quietly, busy eating. “Y/n, you had a busy day today didn’t you? Exciting! Tell us how it went!” He prodded.

Tongue in your cheek, you looked up at him. Your insides were churning and you thought that you’d might actually have a stroke from how dizzy you were getting. You swallowed, “Yeah. Busy day. Uhm, went to get coffee. Then shopped for a little. Then I came home.” You lied, trying to get out of this conversation as quick as possible.

Of course though, the universe was never on your side. Yelena spoke up, “Coffee? When? We never went.” She questioned, chewing on a piece of steak. You looked over at her, and despite being upset at her, you could’ve melted into putty just by the way she looked at you.

You shrugged, “I went alone. Earlier this morning. I would’ve grabbed you some, but you know.. no need.” You muttered, feeling a little bitter.

John quickly looked up, panic setting in his eyes, Yelena stared at you confusedly. John was fast to defend himself, “No! Y/n, it wasn’t anything like that! I can assure you. I know—“

You shook your head and crinkled your nose as it began to burn. You blinked any tears away that were trying to prick up, “No, it’s fine. You don’t need to come up with excuses, Walker. I understand.” You smiled softly. Yelena and the others looked around puzzled.

You finished the dinner in silence while the others around you laughed and talked about their days. Once you finished your meal, you walked back to your room.

Later that night, hushed whispering could be heard from just behind the door. You were scrolling on your phone, mindlessly watching TikTok to drown your sorrows. Yelena and John were talking, trying to figure out what was wrong with you.

“No, John. I don’t know what her deal is. You clearly do though, so what’s wrong with her?” She whispered, her voice strained.

“Yelena, are you seriously this dense?” He asked, desperately. Yelena scoffed, “This is why no one can stand your ass! All you do is be insufferable and secretive!”

John and Yelena continued to argue for a little while longer, until you finally got tired of hearing and stood up out of your bed to open the door.

As you swung it open, both Yelena and John jumped, small gasps escaping from their lips. “If you two are going to have a couple squabble in front of my door, could you at least be mindful of those trying to sleep? AKA, me? Or do you guys just not care about others anymore?” You fumed, looking between the both of them.

Yelena scrunched up her face, “Couple squabble? Y/n, what the hell are you on about? Is everyone crazy today?” She questioned, feeling like she was in the dark.

You scoffed, rolling your eyes, “Don’t play stupid, Yelena. I saw you and John today at our coffee shop flirting and practically dry humping.” You spat, a mix of disgust and sadness eliciting from your lips.

Yelena just furrowed her brows. You shook your head, closing your door before Yelena stuck her foot in it. “I’m not playing stupid, Y/n. John and I weren’t flirting. We were just hanging out after a run.” She assured, walking into your room and closing the door behind her.

“Yeah because that makes it so much better.” You huffed, crossing your arms and turning your back to her. Inside, you knew you were being dramatic, and you knew she owed you nothing, and of course you knew that you and Yelena weren’t dating. That didn’t make you feel any less pain, though.

She grabbed your arm, spinning you around, “Y/n, you were asleep. I didn’t want to wake you. I don’t want anything to do with Walker.” She reassured. You yanked your arm away from her, looking at the ground, “Sure didn’t seem like that. You all looked awfully cozy.” You muttered.

Yelena sighed, pursing her lips together. “We were talking about you, did you know that?” She asked, gripping the side of your arms and stepping closer to you. You looked up at her, disbelief across your face.

“What do you mean?” You asked, she smiled at you, rolling her eyes. “And I’m the dense one.” She chuckled and shook her head.

“I don’t know if you’ve noticed, but I really like you, like, a lot.” Yelena said, her usual confidence faltering despite her tries to keep it all together. Her lips twitched as she looked at you, “We were talking about a good way for me to ask you out.” She promised.

A hopeful shine flashed across your face, “What?” You asked, feeling lighter already. She only nodded earnestly, not breaking eye contact. You opened your mouth and closed it several times before sighing. You licked your lips as you spoke, running a distressed hand through your hair. “Oh,” you laughed embarrassedly. “I’m sorry. It just looked like something completely different. It got in my head. I should’ve asked or something. Or stayed out of it completely. I shouldn’t have gotten upset.” You word vomited.

Yelena shook her head, trying to get you to stop. Once you did, she smiled softly at you, not saying a word. After a few moments of silence, her words actually processed in your head. You gasped softly, “I really like you too, Yelena. I forgot to say that.” You stammered, nerves setting in.

Yelena laughed at you as she pulled you into a tight hug, you reciprocated. For the first time that day, as if you had never truly been relaxed before, you breathed. You took it all in. Relishing in her touch, her smell, her clothes, as if she would disappear once you let go.

But when you did, she stayed put. She smiled at you, her tough exterior melted away like she had just been unfrozen for the first time in seventy years. The way she looked at you was something you could get used to, and you had a feeling you would.

[consistentlyguessing]

Cool about it

Summary: Dating an assassin isn’t easy, especially not when she begins closing herself off after each mission.

WARNINGS: angst, fluff if ya squint, sad Yelena, fem!reader, she/her pronouns, y/n used, alcoholism, not proof read, idk prolly more doc

A/N: hi I’m back again cos I love her sooo much. This is very long so hopefully it’s good..this is my first time writing angst so bear with me

You and Yelena have been together for a little over a year. One year, 210 days, and 20 seconds but who’s counting?

You had stuck by her side after each and every mission, ensuring her that you didn’t think any less of her, and always preparing a requested meal for her. (Most of the time, it was Mac and cheese.)

She would come up behind you whilst you cooked, wrap her arms around your waist, kiss your neck, and tell you how grateful she was for you. You would giggle and blush, waving her off and telling her to go sit down while you cooked.

You two lived in a secluded place, just off the shore of New Hampshire. She made it a point to keep you away from her mission areas. Her top priority was always to keep you safe, away from any possible danger.

The house was small, but loved. It had one bathroom, two bedrooms— if you ever wanted a guest over, a nice kitchen and a small living room. When she bought it, she made sure to buy a house with a large kitchen. She knew cooking had been one of your passions for a while, and she wouldn’t have you settling for any less. Whenever she was gone, you’d go out and buy decorations for the house. It always surprised her when she got back. New signs, a few posters, maybe even a new couch if you were feeling rambunctious.

Truly, she had domesticated you. It almost made you sick. Almost. Right now, your house was decorated in soft greens and whites. You bought green pillows to match your cream colored couch. You had green curtains for the many windows. Despite your failure to take care of them very well, the house was littered with plants. Succulents, cacti, Venus fly traps, the works.

And she loved it. She loved how willing you were to make light of the poor situation you were in. Dating a trained assassin isn’t easy, but you made sure to show her your love for her.

However, you began to notice a change not too long ago.

The changes started out small. Her coming home, not immediately taking her shoes off like she usually did. She would walk straight to the bathroom and shower before going to bed. No words exchanged between the two of you.

You brushed it off as her being tired because she would always show love to you the next day.

But then, the changes began to grow. She would come home, slam the door, sigh heavily, and shut herself in your shared bedroom. She’d only come out once you knocked and told her dinner was done. Then, she’d make a plate and go sleep in the spare room.

It obviously hurt your feelings, but every time you tried to bring it up, she’d assure you that nothing was wrong. “You are being crazy, милый. Nothing is bothering me,” she’d whisper to you, holding you by your waist closely before kissing you on the cheek, patting your back, and walking off.

You would roll your eyes, clearly not convinced.

You let it slide for a while, until you came home one day to find her in the bathroom, passed out and the smell of vodka on her breath. You stood in the door way, a mix of shock and anger on your face.

“Yelena!” You had shouted, startling her awake. She hurried up off the floor once she made eye contact with you, stumbling over to you. “Baby, you’re home! I’ve missed you,” she slurred. She attempted to wrap herself around you, but you stepped away, shaking your head, causing her to nearly trip and fall.

You were stood in the hallway now, arms crossed, clearly disappointed. She recomposed herself, leaning against the door frame. “What’s your problem? You were gone all day. Can’t I show love to my favorite girl?” She beckoned, waving you towards her.

You kissed your teeth, eyes narrowed at her, “Yelena, you’re drunk.” She gasped, shaking her head. “Me? No- no I am not. I don’t do that stuff anymore, you know me,” she blabbered, clearly lying.

Sighing, you turned on your heel, heading towards the spare bedroom. She trailed behind you like a lost puppy.

Once you entered the room and flicked on the lights, you made your way over to the closet inside the guest room. You grabbed a clean pair of sheets for the bed. She watched you carefully, studying your every movement, causing you to shiver. If this had been different circumstances, you probably would’ve been flush against her chest right now, but you were mad at her. You had to stay focused.

You changed the sheets carefully, once she had realized what you were doing, she ushered up behind you, gripping your waist once more. “No, no, no, Y/n. It was just a few drinks— I am not that drunk, I swear,” she giggled breathily, her eyes glossy.

You grimaced, not turning to face her. “Go away Yelena. We can talk in the morning, I don’t want to be near you right now.” You shook your head, she whined in response, kissing your jaw and muttering soft, drunken, “I‘m sorry’s.”

You pushed her off you, still upset, “No Yelena, go to bed I don’t want to have this conversation with you right now.” She stepped back, her jaw slack. She clenched it and rolled her eyes, closing them and inhaling deeply. She let a few tears roll down her face before walking away to the bedroom.

You both slept alone that night.

The next morning, Yelena was no where to be found. You had originally gotten up and prepared some, “I’m sorry” pancakes. Accompanied by a frowny face made out of chocolate chips, but she wasn’t in the bedroom, or living room, or anywhere. You sighed, calling her phone anxiously. Only to be met with her automated voice mail. You bit your lip, pacing around the house.

Hours had passed and you still hadn’t heard from Yelena. You tried to go check outside, but you didn’t see her in any of her usual spots. You checked bars, restaurants, fast food places, nowhere to be found.

After a few days of non stop calling, and endless searching, you gave up. You were sat on the couch, rewatching whatever crap was on TV, a large glass of wine in your hand. This was around your fifth glass.

You were about to fall asleep when you heard the twisting of the doorknob. You straightened up immediately, twisting your head to see who the unexpected visitor was.

The door opened and quickly shut, you made eye contact with a disheveled Yelena. Your eyes widened, you quickly rushed over to her, hastily forgetting about the TV show and wine.

“Yelena Belova! Where the hell have you been?!” You shouted, your voice cracking, your eyes glossy, remnants of the wine on your breath.

She sniffed at you slightly, not responding, her face contorted into one of disgust. You were surprised, you hadn’t seen her in a week and she was disgusted by you?

“You reek, Y/n,” she spoke truthfully, eyeing your outfit. You had just showered, so you were wrapped in a soft black towel that you had just bought.

You stepped away from her, “What’s your problem, ‘Lena? I don’t see you for..days and the first thing you want to say to me is that I reek?”

“You do. You have been drinking. It stinks.” She deadpanned, her voice faltering slightly. You swallowed hard, clenching your jaw.

“Where have you been, ‘Lena?” You asked, your voice softer than before. She sighed, shaking her head, “I’ve been staying with Natasha. Figured she wanted to see me more than you,” she said, her voice cracking. Her tough exterior faltering.

“Wha- why would you think that?” You breathed, stepping towards her, your arms grabbing her hips. “Becuase of the other night,” she whimpered, her eyes tearing up. She looked away from you, licking her lips anxiously. Her arms by her side, “and these past few weeks.”

You sighed, “Yelena, I was more worried than I was mad. I just want to know what’s going on with you. I’m not a mind reader, but I care.” She looked at you, her nostrils flared as tears ran down her face. You reached up to gently wipe them away, causing her to laugh at you, “you are so cringey,” she grinned, grabbing your wrist.

She walked you over to the kitchen table, sitting in one of the chairs, looking down at the table, her hands clamped together. You sat next to her slowly, your knees touching. She let a few moments of silence pass, gathering her thoughts before she finally looked up at you.

“My missions, I’ve been feeling guilty about them. After I finish them I just imagine how you would see me if…” she swallowed, shaking slightly. You grabbed her hand slowly, urging her to continue. “If you saw what I did…what I do. You’d be disgusted by me, never want to see me again.” She whimpered, her lip quivering. She looked away from you, biting her lip.

You frowned, rubbing her back soothingly. She leaned into your touch, you felt her muscles relax beneath you.

“Yelena, we met after you just got off a mission. You blew up a fucking building. That probably killed like five people, not to mention those who were actually supposed to be taken out on that mission.” You grinned, tightening your grip on her hand

She chuckled, nodding her head, listening to you as you spoke. “I fell in love with you then, you can guarantee I’m going to keep loving you like this.” You promised, leaning your chin on her shoulder.

She let your words sink in momentarily before looking over at you, you straightened up, removing your chin and arm from her body. She smiled at you, her eyes still glossy and her cheeks still stained from tears. The sight of her like this broke your heart.

“I love you,” she whispered, before kissing you softly. You smiled into the kiss, wrapping your arms around her waist lazily. Once she broke the kiss, she stood up slowly, the table creaking under her weight.

“I’m going to go shower” She said, walking away towards the bathroom. You grinned at her, following behind her closely, “Room for another?” You asked, she looked over her shoulder before speaking up, “always,”

[consistentlyguessing]

Joyride

summary: being new at work is always embarrassing, but it’s even more embarrassing when your girlfriend shows up during the middle of your shift.

WARNINGS: fem!reader, she/her pronouns, probably ooc, yelena kind of teasing reader, jobs 🫩, JOHN WALKER, not proof read, that’s all maybe

A/N: i need her so bad it’s not even funny anymore. where are the yelena fics 💔. i feel like thanos rn, “fine..ill do it myself” it’s a little short but it’s cute methinks. ok bye

Starting a new job was always nerve wracking for you. Safe to say you weren’t really a people person. It was your first week at a small tanning salon in NYC. It was quiet and tucked away into a small alleyway. Enough hustle and bustle to keep you occupied for the hours you’d be there, but not too busy.

The job was pretty simple; check people in, give them lotions, towels, goggles, then clean their beds after they left. It made you around $15 an hour, so who were you to complain?

Your coworkers all seemed very nice. They were very extraverted, far from shy. They made a point to make you feel at home right away. You were particularly close with Lydia. She was loud and talkative like the others, but definitely someone more your speed.

She had long blonde hair, bright makeup, haunting green eyes. She often wore dresses and Birkenstocks to the salon, which made you question a lot about her. In her defense though, she was in her second trimester of her fourth child. She’s bound to be tired of being dressed up.

Lydia often ranted about her husband, who seemed to be very similar to a man you once knew. He was abrasive, snarky, arrogant, overall someone you shouldn’t marry. But when you have three kids and another on the way, it’s hard to get rid of a man like that.

During the middle of one of Lydia’s never ending rants about her spouse, making you question if she really was with John Walker after all, a loud revving was heard just outside of the salon. Lydia, sat in front of you blinked slowly, “Who’s that?” She smirked, eyeing the figure. You turned around, disregarding the goggles you were cleaning. You’d be lying if you said you were surprised by who it was.

They had short, messy, blonde hair. Their roots were showing though. Their makeup, despite usually being flawless, was mildly smudged. They were in casual clothing, a T-shirt and jean shorts to combat with the New York heat.

You made eye contact with the person through the window, who shot you a playful look. “You know them?” She asked, inching closer to you, “Pass me their number when you get the chance.” She winked.

You coughed awkwardly before turning to face Lydia, your face pigmented slightly more than before— despite being in the heat of the salon. “That’s my girlfriend, Lydia” you deadpanned before standing up and walking towards the front door, “I’ll be back!” You called out before rushing out of the salon.

You hastily rounded the corner, practically fuming as you looked at the motorcycle in front of you. “Yelena! What are you doing here!? I don’t get off until 8!” You huffed, crossing your arms as you stood on the sidewalk next to the motorcycle.

“Y/n, finally. I missed you, wanted to see your face,” she said earnestly. Her thick Russian accent made her words all the more savory. You swallowed hard as she spoke, trying not to get flustered.

After you didn’t respond, she spoke up again, “C’mon, let’s go for a ride. I brought your helmet.” she smiled as she held up the sparkly helmet she insisted you wore each time you rode the bike. In her words, “it’s harder to hit someone if they look like a disco ball” which was evidently true, but still, you looked like a fool.

“Not a chance, ‘lena. I like this job, I plan on keeping it for a while.” You huffed, shaking your head as you spoke. Yelena stayed quiet for a moment, eyeing you up and down, examining your outfit. “Hm, maybe I’ll like it here too if you come over like this everyday ” She grinned, playing with the hem of your athletic shorts. You sighed, pushing her hand off of you, “Not laughing Yelena,”

Her smile faltered momentarily, “We’ve done it every where else, what’s the difference?” She asked, returning her hand to rest on the handlebars of the motorcycle.

“Each time I’ve gotten fired for leaving the property during contract hours! Again, I really like this job, ‘Lena..I want to keep it,” you pleaded, frowning at her slightly.

Yelena frowned back, “Doll, you don’t have to do these minimum eh—“ she paused, searching for the correct word, “tasks anymore. Valentina can cover the cost of you living in the tower too. What’s the issue?” She said, trailing her hand up your waist slowly. A small shiver crept down your back as she continued her trudge on your body.

“Yelena, you know I don’t want to be mooching off you and the rest of the team. I’ve been providing for myself for years, I can keep doing it. Besides, I like my studio apartment.” You said, your expression softening slightly as you wrapped your arms around her neck, leaning in closer to her.

She rolled her eyes, “You are so stubborn,” she teased, rubbing your side. You shrugged slightly; pursing your lips and looking off to the side innocently, “guilty as charged.”

A few more moments of silence passed, the two of you sat there, looking at each other, enjoying the moment. Yelena smelled earthy with a mix of a little vanilla. A mix of her shampoo and your body wash, that you’ve previously recommended.

“Hey, by the way, who is blondie in there?” She asked, glancing towards the window, you looked back to see Lydia still standing there, watching the scene unfold. “Oh, that’s Lydia. One of my coworkers. She’s awesome, why?” You spoke, turning back around to face Yelena.

“She’s been making goo-goo eyes at me all this time,” she grimaced before looking back at you. You squinted slightly, raising an eyebrow at her, “what do you mean goo-goo eyes?” You asked, your voice lower than before.

“You know— the eyes you make when you really want me to kiss you, like earlier. She’s been doing that,” she said nonchalantly, waving it off.

You sighed, huffing slightly before shaking your head and moving away from her. Sighing loudly you spoke, “Lena, I’m going to go back inside and finish this shift. We’ll start talking about moving arrangements when I get off, leave the door unlocked.”

Yelena smirked at you before moving her hand off of you and back onto the motorcycle, twisting it slightly, causing a loud rev of the engine to set off. She winked at you as you bid her goodbye and walked back into the salon. She shook her head as she drove off.

Boy, Lydia was in for an awakening.

[kissesfortodd]

Can SOMEONE write some Yelena fics please I’m on my knees

[trainer-from-unova]

[eyelessfaces]

[strwbrrs-r-nice]

i want 50 avengers tower fanfics of the thunderbolts on my desk by morning do you hear me

[cryingmyeyesviolet]

I love the thought of the new avengers showing up in doomsday with bob in tow and everyone else being like

“who the fuck is that”

“bob”

“why is he here”

“he’s our friend”

[corpsemothz]

when im watching mbav and they start being mean to rory

[midwesternwolf-deactivated20260]

“sal x larry” THE STEP BROTHERS?? THE

STEP FUCKING BROTHERS?:!4!4! WE KNOW BEETERRRRR