INCLUDES -> yelena belova, bob reynolds, john walker, bucky barnes
WARNINGS -> literally all fluff! no need to fear angst here (there is some minor swearing tho); walker calls the reader beautiful, and bucky calls them 'doll'
NOTES -> y'all i feel crazy about thunderbolts. i haven't had a writing kick like this in YEARS. also, no one hate me for john in this one, he's my problematic wife, ok? also i want wyatt russell bad. anyways, my requests/asks are open! and as always comments and reblogs are much appreciated <3
YELENA BELOVA. — sleepy movie night? you got it. there's snacks, blankets, a random movie, and so many cuddles.
"are you sure you don't want to go to bed, love?" yelena mutters to you. the tv softly glows in front of you both, whatever period piece was playing long forgotten. you've been curled around her side since the movie began, but now your arm is draped over her and your head has fallen to her shoulder.
"no, i'm up," your voice is rough from sleep, but you pick your head up anyways and stretch. "see?" yelena rolls her eyes at your loopy, exhausted smile.
"whatever you say," she replies with a teasing smile.
"mhm..." you adjust your position under the blanket so you can be sitting upright next to her. but the blanket is just so soft and yelena is so warm, and before you know it, it's only a few minutes before you're curled against her once more.
yelena works hard to stifle her laugh when you fall asleep, but she lets you stay there. the movie plays on dully—the man in it has made some apparently irredeemable mistake that the woman he loves will no doubt forgive him for. yelena leans her head against yours, swearing that she'll get up once the movie is over so the two of you can sleep in a proper bed.
the next morning, when bucky is getting coffee he sees the two of you curled up on the couch and can't help but smile. it's nice seeing that yelena's found someone she trusts.
BOB REYNOLDS. — both of you are up late at night, entirely unable to sleep. you because you're working on tech for the thunderbolts new avengerz, and bob simply wandering the tower at night.
bob doesn't exactly sleep well these days, not after the mess with the void. it isn't unusual to find him roaming the tower at odd times, and this time it's your turn to run into him.
you're working in some old lab that you assume was tony stark's back in the day. your back aches, your fingers raw from tinkering with yelena's widow equipment, and you can hardly keep your eyes open. it's a miracle you haven't electrocuted yourself already.
"you're still up?" a voice softly speaks from the hallway.
your heart nearly stops right there and then. "holy shit!"
"sorry," bob steps into the dim lights of the lab, his hands up in a show of peace. "i didn't mean to scare you."
"no, no, it's fine! you're fine." you smile at him. "what are you still doing up, sweetheart?"
"i can't sleep," his response is sheepish.
you stand, stretching your arms above your head, and walk over to him. "let's see if we can do something about that." you pull him along by the hand, fingers entwined.
by the time you both get to bed, your eyes are heavy with sleep. you pull bob closer to you, letting his heartbeat lull you gently to sleep. the comfort of your body against his, a reliable weight to keep him still and grounded, has him dozing in no time.
JOHN WALKER. — he's the one up, unable to sleep. you're fast asleep and he just takes in everything about you. maybe it's the slight frown you have in your sleep, or the way your hair falls into your face just a little, but he's captivated.
john lays opposite of you on the bed, just tracing your features with his eyes. he takes everything in slowly: the flutter of your eyelashes, the curve of your cheek, the curl of your lips. you're so beautiful, and honestly, john has no idea how he got so lucky.
with his track record, it's a miracle you-
"why'd you stop?" you mumble, still half asleep, interrupting his train of thought entirely. his hands, which had been tracing patterns softly over your skin, have long been still.
"didn't wanna keep you up," he mumbles back, and you crack open an incredulous eye at him.
you grumble something under your breath that john can't quite catch before pulling yourself closer to him.
"it was nice," you say, sleep already calling your name. so john continues.
he traces abstract patterns from the nape of your neck to your shoulders to your back. he feels the way your muscles loosen beneath his touch and the way your breath evens out.
and you know what? fuck his track record. if he got lucky enough to be graced by you, he damn well won't mess it up.
BUCKY BARNES. — this time it's you who can't sleep, and it's a good thing bucky has a tendency to stay up obnoxiously late reading his novels despite his other old man tendencies.
a soft knock comes from the door, startling bucky from his book. it's too late for anyone to need him urgently for anything, so he's almost inclined to ignore it until your voice rings through the door.
"bucky? you still up?" you're tentative, almost wary, as you ask for him.
"yeah, doll, i'm up." he sits up, ready to open the door for you when you walk in wrapped in a blanket.
"can i stay with you?" you mutter, still standing a ways away from the bed.
without saying a word, he pats the spot next to him on his bed and leans back against the headboard, leaving enough space for you to curl up next to him.
"what're you reading?" your voice is muffled by his shirt and the blankets wrapped around you.
"the hobbit. mind if i keep reading?" you shake your head, listening to the steady beating of his heart.
"it was at this point that bilbo stopped. going on from there was the bravest thing he ever did. the tremendous things that happened afterwards were as nothing compared to it..." bucky's voice rumbles soft in his chest, gentle despite the intensity of the moments he read out to you.
Kate Bishop x Yelena Belova x Fem!Reader
Natasha thinks you'd be perfect for her sister Yelena, whist Clint thinks you'd be perfect for Kate
[A/N] This is probably the last one I managed to queue - ever since I read that Kate novel I've been wanting to write more Kate fics so my bestie helped me come up with this cute idea 🥰 Hope you guys enjoy! 😘
“How did things go with you and Kate yesterday?” Clint asks, nudging your leg with his foot. You’re in the common room of the Avengers compound, you trying to read on one end of the couch whilst Clint lies lazily on the other side.
“Yeah, it was good. I’m meeting up with her again on Saturday.”
Natasha’s head snaps up from where she’d been scrolling through her iPad, “I thought you were meeting Yelena on Saturday.”
“Uh yeah, I am. I’m meeting both of them.”
Natasha and Clint meet eyes across the room and Natasha can’t help but scowl. Ever since you moved here there’d been a fierce competition between the two of them. Natasha had known from the moment she was introduced to you that you’d be perfect for her younger sister Yelena. Yelena had confessed to liking girls to Natasha a couple of years ago but had never really done anything since then. Natasha had Bucky whilst Yelena had never really dated before. Natasha just knew that you were everything Yelena needed, and that the two of you would be a good match.
Irritatingly, Clint had thought the same about you and Kate. Kate had never really come out to anybody but had dated a girl named Cheyenne for a couple of months at the beginning of last year, a relationship that hadn’t lasted long because Cheyenne turned out to be allergic to dogs and Lucky was a non-negotiable in Kate’s life. Where she went, that dog went. Clint had checked with you that you weren’t allergic to dogs and that you were in fact attracted to girls, and had set you and Kate up on a date.
At first neither Clint nor Natasha had even realised what the other was doing – it had taken a couple of weeks of you dating both women simultaneously for them to catch on. Thus had begun a fierce competition between the two of them, trying to match you up with the girl they thought you were more sorted to.
“Y/N, I want you to train with Yelena today,” Natasha would announce every morning when it was her turn to assign schedules.
“Kate would probably be a far better teacher than me,” Clint had said when you’d begged him to give you an archery lesson, immediately setting up a session for the two of you.
“Yelena’s free this Friday, I booked you a table at that rooftop bar I told you about,” Natasha said the next time she’d seen you.
“Hey Y/N, Kate said she was taking Lucky for a walk, if you wanted to join her and stretch your legs?” Clint would randomly suggest whenever he saw Kate fetching Lucky’s lead.
Both of them were used to a little friendly competition but this one felt particularly personal. Although Kate wasn’t Clint’s little sister, she might as well be, and he felt fiercely protective of her in the same way that Natasha felt about Yelena. Whoever you picked, there was going to be hurt feelings for at least a little while afterwards.
“You’re going out with both of them?” Clint asks. “I thought it was meant to be a date.”
“Yeah, this whole thing is getting a little out of hand so I figured I’d just invite them both out,” You say, glancing between them both. “Then you guys can quit bugging me.”
Natasha and Clint look away guiltily, knowing they’ve come on a bit strong. Sometimes it was easy to forget that they were actually working for the benefit of Kate and Yelena, the competitiveness between them running so strong. You give them both a small smile and get up to leave the room.
“Why can’t you just let Yelena have this?” Natasha asks the second you’re out of earshot. “Kate doesn’t need a girlfriend the way Yelena does.”
“Y/N isn’t here to fix Yelena’s problems, that’s something she needs to work out in therapy. Kate and Y/N are on a more even playing field-”
“Yelena deserves to have some fun and it’s harder for her to meet people!”
Yelena had spent a couple of years going around the world freeing all of the Widow’s that she could find. Now her job was complete she was back in New York to work alongside Natasha in the Avengers. Kate had recently graduated from the Young Avengers program into the regular Avengers. Both had been there for a year or so before you’d arrived – you’d barely gotten to know either of them before Natasha and Clint had begun their competition to get you together.
On Saturday Natasha spends time in Yelena’s room, prepping her for the date, “You should mention that you’re good at archery too, if Kate’s gonna be there.”
Yelena gives her a look, “Why?”
“To impress Y/N. You need to get ahead of Kate-”
“And you think casually mentioning I can shoot a bow and arrow will be the winning factor that tips me over the edge? If she suggested we have a shootout then Kate would win, you know that right?”
“Yeah but she won’t, you can just-”
“Kate’s better than me at archery. Whilst I appreciate the effort, I don’t need dating advice from you, Nat.”
“I just-”
“You don’t get girls. And besides, Bucky’s pretty low maintenance.”
Natasha scoffs, “Bucky is not low maintenance-”
“Please, he’s so grumpy and broody he barely notices if the two of you go on a date.”
“The point is I think you and Y/N would be good together.”
“And we’re going on a date tonight. Relax! You worry too much.”
Natasha sighs, watching as Yelena completes the finishing touches to her hair. “It suits you. The short length. Looks nice.”
“Thank you,” Yelena smiles, adjusting her yellow tartan coat as she takes one last look at herself in the mirror. “I’ll let you know how it goes.”
Natasha sighs as she watches Yelena leave. In Kate’s room, Clint is trying to give her similar advice. “Take Lucky with you. Y/N loves dogs.”
“I mean yeah, that was a given,” Kate says, scratching behind Lucky’s ears. “We’re getting pizza, this guy would know if I didn’t take him and that would be the ultimate act of betrayal.”
“You’ve just gotta play to your strengths-”
“And you think the best reason to date me is Lucky the Pizza dog?”
“No! No, but he’s definitely a perk-”
“You’re stressing over nothing,” Kate says, fastening her necklace. “It’s just a casual date. We’re going to ‘Bad Pizza’ then going for a walk-”
“I guess I just don’t understand why Yelena’s going.” Clint gives Kate a look when she laughs at him. “What?”
“I’ll tell you when you’re older. Come on, Lucky.”
Clint rolls his eyes as Kate leaves, still not entirely sure what was so funny. Maybe he is getting too old for this shit. He’d already officially retired twice now and somehow kept getting dragged back into the game. Still, he hoped that tonight went well – for Kate’s sake, anyway.
By Sunday morning Clint and Natasha are practically out of their minds with curiosity, wanting to know how the date had gone and who you’d chosen. After all, that must’ve been the reason you’d asked them both out, to decide once and for all. It wouldn’t be fair to keep dating both girls indefinitely, and it had already been a couple of months.
You’d all gotten home late last night so they hadn’t had chance to catch up with either Kate or Yelena. When the three of you eventually make it through for breakfast, you’re wearing the t-shirt Kate had been wearing yesterday and Natasha’s heart sinks, assuming you must’ve picked Kate. That’s why she’s surprised when Yelena wraps her arms around your waist, leaning her head on your shoulder as you all wait for the coffeepot to heat up.
Clint and Natasha exchange another glance as the three of you sit together, laughing together about something. Lucky curls up beneath the table even though Tony had warned Kate multiple times that dogs aren’t allowed in the kitchen. Natasha watches you all, assuming she must’ve been wrong, that you’d chosen Yelena given how familiar she’d been with you at the coffeepot. But then why are you wearing Kate’s shirt?
Unable to take it any longer Natasha scrapes back her chair, standing up and sitting down in front of the three of you, followed closely by Clint. “Did you choose?” Natasha asks.
You look up at her, startled, “What do you mean?”
“Between Yelena and Kate obviously! Which one is your girlfriend?”
The three of you exchange glances before bursting out laughing. Clint rolls his eyes, “Can you guys let us in on the big joke please?”
“I didn’t ask them out to pick between them,” You wheeze. “I asked them out so we could all date each other.”
Natasha and Clint exchange a baffled glance before looking back at you. “Wait, so all three of you are…?”
“Yeah,” Yelena laughs. “Let’s face it, choosing between me and Kate would be an impossible task for anyone, and why should only one of us get to date Y/N?”
“I had a crush on Yelena for ages anyway,” Kate says. “Just didn’t have the guts to do anything about it. Now that Y/N’s here, it’s even better.”
“You guys are so old-fashioned,” You tease. “I thought you realised when I said I was going on a date with both of them.”
“Why would we assume- I don’t get young people today.” Clint shakes his head, sitting back in his seat and picking up his coffee cup.
Natasha looks thoughtfully between the three of you, smiling to herself when Yelena slings an arm around your shoulders and Kate leans over to brush a crumb off your cheek with her thumb. It’s true, polygamy hadn’t crossed Natasha’s mind, but now that she’s looking at the three of you through a different perspective, she can see that you’re perfect for each other. She feels foolish now for not thinking to set Yelena up with Kate in the first place, but this has worked out perfectly. Now neither Clint nor Natasha has lost.
You’d realised pretty quickly that you were falling for both Kate and Yelena. When Kate had confessed she’d initially felt attraction for Yelena, the solution had seemed obvious to you. That’s why you’d asked them both on a date.
How were you ever supposed to choose between them? Both of them were so different but you’d seen their chemistry first hand and there was something about them that just worked. You’d all gone for pizza, and it had been the best date you’d ever been on. You’d been on a lot of bad dates in the past but every date you’d had with Yelena and Kate had been perfect, nothing but laughs and sparks flying. Getting together with both of them had been even better.
After pizza you’d gone for drinks, sneaking Lucky in whilst the bouncer wasn’t looking, and you’d sat in a corner, all still laughing as you’d drunk cocktail after cocktail. When you arrived back at the compound the three of you realised that you didn’t want the night to end, so you’d ended up back in your room, the three of you squashing into your bed with Lucky curled up on the end.
“I don’t think Clint realised that we were all going on a date,” Kate had giggled, her arm around your waist. “It was like he thought Yelena was third-wheeling.”
“Please, I would not have been the third-wheel,” Yelena had retorted, snuggling into your other side.
“I can’t wait to see the look on their faces tomorrow,” Kate said, kissing your cheek. “You should walk into the kitchen wearing my shirt.”
“They’ll just think I picked you.”
“Exactly, then Yelena can kiss you or something, throw them off completely. Just to wind them up.”
You’d all giggled, still feeling the effects of the cocktails and the good time that you’d had. Yelena’s hand had found yours, intertwining your fingers and kissing your knuckles. You’d smiled to yourself as you’d fallen into an alcohol infused sleep – as full-on as Clint and Natasha had been over the last few months, they had given you the opening you’d been looking for. Now you were lying here with two pretty girls. You’d have to thank them one day.
She loves the idea of public sex. The idea of flaunting you in front of everyone, or just the idea of making you cum. So, it wasn't shocking to learn about her fantasies with you in the steamy hot water.
Somehow, the sauna-spa has become her permanent office. It's relaxing but you're not sure about the practicality of it. There's a whole different idea in her mind though: finger-fucking you.
Most of her free time is spent shoving her thick fingers into you, watching as the ripples of water respond to your squirms as she hits the spot again and again. At this point, you're sure at least 1% of the water is really just your cum.
Your pussy twitches painfully, feeling the aggressive thrusts of her digits— one you know all too well.
The moment you pass out, you can hear her say: "That's it. Just let the pleasure take over your mind."
f!reader x yelena belova?? something fluffy either in thunderbolts or after! thank you<3
Tysm for requesting!! It’s my first Yelena fic so hopefully i did her justice. I’m definitely going to be writing some more fanfics of her soon :3
The healing type
Yelena belova x f!reader
Summary: Yelena slips away from the medical bay. Luckily, her favourite nurse always knows where to find her.
You had already patched up Bucky’s stubborn scrapes, given Walker a lecture about concussion control and handed out enough ibuprofen to the rest of the team to stock a pharmacy.
However, Yelena? Yelena had vanished the second the quinjet doors opened.
It took you twenty minutes to hunt her down. You found her sitting on an upturned crate in one of the many hallways, a roll of medical tape gripped between her teeth as she fiercely tried to wrap her very bruised wrist.
“You know,” you said, leaning against the metal shelving with your arms crossed, “we literally have a state of the art medical bay about fifty feet that way. With a fully certified nurse . Who happens to be me”
Yelena didn’t look up. She spat the tape out of her mouth, holding it tight with her thumb. “I know, silly, but i am a highly trained operative,” she muttered, sounding very stubborn. “I can wrap a single sprain. I do not need official treatment.”
“Oh yeah? You’ve wrapped it so tight your fingers are literally turning purple” you sighed and walked over, stepping right into her line of sight.
“It’s tactical compression,” she smirked, lifting her chin defiantly.
“It’s a blood clot waiting to happen” you corrected gently. Reaching down, you firmly but carefully took her hand.
Yelena let out a sharp, amused huff through her nose, but she didn’t pull away. She let her hand go heavy in yours as you began unraveling her clumsy attempt at first aid.
“Let me do it” you said softly, your voice dropping to a warm whisper as you carefully undid the tangled mesh. “Just rest for a minute.”
She didn’t argue;instead she just watched you, her green eyes softening completely as your fingers gently traced the swelling on her wrist.
“You have soft hands, did you know?” She murmured, her voice rough with exhaustion. “It is nice. Not like the sharp ice packs in the clinic.”
“That’s because i’m a human being,” you said, slightly smiling, keeping your head down as you carefully began wrapping the fresh, clean bandage around her wrist. “Usually we don’t come frozen solid out of a plastic bag.”
Yelena let out a tiny, breathy chuckle. It was different from the ones she used around the others, completely relaxed and stripped of its sarcastic undertone.
“Everything just feels very loud today,” she muttered, her eyes staying on your hands as you finished up. “My head hurts from it all.”
“So you came out here for some quiet?” you asked quietly, smoothing down the edge of the tape to secure it.
“Yeah.” She looked up, meeting your eyes with a rare, completely honest expression. “And I knew you’d find me. You always do.”
You gave her hand a reassuring final pat and stepped back so she could stand. Yelena slid off the crate, slowly flexing her fingers to test the tightness of the bandage. She nodded once, satisfied, then stood right next to you, nudging her shoulder against yours in a heavy, familiar gesture.
“I am starving,” she simply said, looking toward the hangar doors. “Come with me to get some food.”
“Alright then,” you said with a smile, turning to walk with her. “Let’s go.”
“Good,” she hummed, her pace matching yours perfectly as you both stepped out of the hallway. “I am glad i have you. Mostly because you are paying for my dinner, but still.” Her shoulder bumped lightly against yours as you both quietly left the tower behind.
𝐚𝐮𝐭𝐡𝐨𝐫𝐬 𝐧𝐨𝐭𝐞ˏˋ°•*⁀➷ this is literally just how i believe introducing how someone thinks and interpts a character should be done. so i don't send someone into shock when i write for these characters.
𝐩𝐚𝐢𝐫𝐢𝐧𝐠ˏˋ°•*⁀➷ robert "bob" reynolds x fem! reader, james "bucky" barnes x fem! reader, john "stfu" walker x fem!reader, ava starr x fem! reader, yelena belova x fem! reader.
𝐬𝐮𝐦𝐦𝐚𝐫𝐲ˏˋ°•*⁀➷ how the thunderbolts act when they are sleepy.
𝐰𝐚𝐫𝐧𝐢𝐧𝐠𝐬ˏˋ°•*⁀➷ i never know what to do put here, i guess curse words?
yelena belova does not believe that she is ever tired. black under the eyes, yawning does not qualify at all. but all of that being said this is exactly what happens:
"I am not tired." Both of you sat on the couch. With a smile, you nodded your head and rolled your eyes, taking off the blue hoodie that had been helping keep you warm all evening. The inside was so fluffy that when you put it in the dryer, pieces would float around onto the other laundry for days. It was perfect bait.
"What are you doing?" Yelena was squinting but not daring to move her head down and forward off the back of the couch to face you as it would most certainly make her dizzy and that would make her yawn even more.
"I'm just a little warm." With a small smile, you place the hoodie on your lap and just let it sit as the TV played some reality tv that the two of you had been spending the late evening judging after dinner.
You closed your eyes and pressed your head back to mimic what she was doing. The moment she could sense you not staring at her, she moved and yawned as silently as she possibly could before taking her boots off with her feet. They thudded to the ground as she slowly dragged the clothing you had taken off closer to her until it was no longer sitting on you at all. Rubbing her eyes with all of her makeup still on she wiped her hands off on her pants before adjusting the hoodie to go over her head and onto her body.
"Fine, we can crash on the couch." Secretly, you did not hate crashing on the couch, but letting her believe that and watching her get all excited was just too cute to pass up.
With some quiet humming, you sat forward while she pulled the blanket off the back of the couch and onto the two of you as you stayed sitting up she pulled the hoodie over her head and got ready to lay down.
"Wait. You are not sleeping?" She side eyed you as she held part of the blanket covering her in her hands running her fingers over the plush material.
"No I am, just like this." You propped your feet up on the coffee table and kicked the blanket to cover your socked feet. Putting your head back in place with a nod.
"What? No, that is not comfortable at all." Before she could continue her rant, you lurched in her direction and pulled her down onto your lap, her head resting on your thigh and the length of the couch now hers.
"Goodnight star starfish." You mumbled eyes closed still feeling her tug and pull at your arm and the blanket to get in the optimal sleeping position.
"Starfish?" For a moment, she smiled and thought what a cute nickname, then it hit her, "I DO NOT SLEEP LIKE A STARFISH!"
A moment of silence followed. she had placed your arm so that your hand was touching the opposite side of her jaw. In order to keep this from becoming an entire discussion, you pet her face gently like one would to a baby who was fighting sleep.
"If a starfish loses all its arms, is it just a really confused circle until it grows them back?” Yelena mumbled under her breath as her head finally became heavy against you, and her breathing slowed and deepened. As follows, a leg came off the couch, as did an arm. A starfish.
━━━━⊱⋆⊰━━━━
bucky barnes will straight up be passing out doing something, he is like all of a sudden on the floor dead asleep, which is great to try and time:
"What? What are you doing?" Slipping the knife from his hand you sat it down on your bedside table with a small clang.
"You're falling asleep with a knife in your hand, or you were anyway." You watched as he sat with his mouth slightly opened looking at you with a deep offense.
"I was not. I was working on something." He tries to reach over you but you put a very gentle hand on his chest.
"Where's the cloth?" You watch as Bucky mumbles and opens his hand to show you nothing. To which he starts fluffing the comforter, hoping that it would float up and he could say he just dropped it. The smell of his cologne wafted in the air, unlike what he was looking for. You laughed at him as he incredibly slowly turned his head to reface you.
"Witch." He glared at you without even having to look, you pulled the cloth from the side of your bed. It dangled in between your fingers as his eyes flickered between you and the damn barely dirty treacherous object.
"Wanna tell me what we were just talking about?" Matching his glare he took in a deep breath that turned into a yawn he tried to hold inside of his mouth.
"It's only nine o'clock." He rubbed his flesh hand over his eyes as he looked over at his old-fashioned alarm clock that you insisted he keep because it was so useful and reliable. Not wanting to possibly be wrong about what was said earlier or what had actually happened.
"So late already, man, I thought it was seven!" You began quickly turning off your lamp and climbing over top of him to turn his off.
"You think I get sleepy at seven?" Bucky's head thudded against his soft pillow as you manhandled him to get him to fully lie down.
"What were we doing at seven?" You placed both hands down on his chest now looking at him as he batted his eyes slowly not even trying to think about what you had just said to him.
"Oh, cmon, I don't need to be tucked in, I'm a grown man." He groaned as you rolled off of him and began bringing the blanket on top of him up to his shoulders.
Bucky let out a puff of air as you trapped him with your body and blankets, basically giving him a go-to-sleep treatment. Truth be told, the second he was warm, he totally passed out flat on his back exactly the way you placed him.
━━━━⊱⋆⊰━━━━
john walker did not believe in naps or bedtime, let alone possibly resting anywhere that was nice in soft, but even the best need to rest:
"WHAT THE FUCK JOHN!" You jumped back and screamed with your hand clutching at your chest, now looking down at the floor. It was literally four o'clock in the morning, and you had just gotten up to get a damn ice pack for the migraine you had all evening thanks to a storm. But what you had came across was John sitting on a bar stool drinking a cup of coffee in silence.
"What the fuck you." He gestured in your direction, not taking his eyes off of the coffee cup sitting in his hand.
"What are you doing up?" With a roll of your eyes, you walked over to the freezer and slid the door open to grab an ice pack from the deep freeze where you kept the ones you used.
"Wouldn't you like to know?" He scoffed and sipped some more. He had to have been sitting there for quite some time. You noticed the coffee pot was freezing cold, and he was in training clothes. He had been wearing earlier.
"Yes, John, that is typically why someone asks what someone is doing." You wrapped the ice pack in a dish towel before pressing it to your temple and leaning forward on the bar.
"You wouldn't understand." He finally looked up at you, not with his whole head, but just his eyes moved. Circles were incredibly dark, and you knew right then he had not yet even tried to sleep.
"Why did we give you a bedroom if you just weren't planning on ever sleeping?" You joked shaking your head the littlest bit you could manage.
"Hilarious." He picked up the cup with the shakiest hand you've ever seen on someone under ninety. The veins in his hands popped out, and his knuckles were white as he brought the cup up to his mouth.
Fuck me I am going to be nice to Walker
"Hey, can I ask a favor since you're up?" You knew he was going to give you shit and bitch and make jokes about it regardless.
"What do you want?" He was now fully looking at you and you took in a deep breath and puffed it back out through your nose.
"My head is killing me, like seriously killing me, and I would really love to get some sleep. I can't hold this ice pack and sleep at the same time because if I lay it on my pillow, even with it wrapped, it will eventually leak and get my pillow all wet." You tried your best to come up with something stupid that made enough sense for him to fall for.
"You want me to sit and watch you sleep while I hold ice on your head?" He summarized what you had just given him before rolling his eyes and getting up off his stool, "You coming?"
"Tell a girl, Walker, tell a girl." You mumbled as you walked to catch up with him as he made his way towards your bedroom.
He opened the door and let you walk through it before closing it behind himself. You handed him the ice pack and jumped in bed, getting all comfortable and curled up before he took off his shoes and got in bed, sitting on top of the bed.
"You can get under the blanket." Waving a corner of the blanket at him he took it roughly and covered himself up to his torso. Holding the ice pack on your head you switched your lamp off and dozed off. Needless to say Walker followed soon after and the ice pack ended up across your face and onto the floor.
━━━━⊱⋆⊰━━━━
ava starr is happy to get some rest when she can, in fact finding her asleep is not uncommon when there are days she feels she can just be at peace:
You find her in the hallway, slumped against the wall just outside the room you're sharing.
Not ghosted. Not flickering. Not phasing in and out like she does when she's upset or startled or fighting the hum in her chest.
Just still.
Her legs are pulled up like she sat down with the intent to rest for a second and then forgot how to move again. Her head tips to the side when she notices you, a small, exhausted blink like she’s dragging herself back into her body.
“Ava?”
She doesn’t say anything at first.
Then:
“Sorry. I meant to come to bed. I just... stopped.”
You crouch beside her, gentle. “Rough day?”
She huffs out a breath—not quite a laugh, not quite a sigh. “Rough year. Rough life.”
You don’t push. You just sit, shoulder against the wall, close enough that she can lean in if she wants. You wait.
After a moment, she does. Slowly, her head tilts, coming to rest against your shoulder. She exhales, and it sounds like something deeper than air. Like permission. Like surrender.
“I’m so tired,” she murmurs.
There’s no dramatics in her voice. Just simple truth. She says it like it’s a fact: the sky is blue, water is wet, and I am so tired I could disappear.
You reach over and gently thread your fingers through hers. “Then come to bed.”
“I don’t want to move.” Her voice is smaller now. Not scared, just fragile. “I just want to be... still. For a little while.”
You nod. “Okay. Then we’ll be still.”
So you sit there together, on the floor, in the quiet. Her head against your shoulder. Her hand in yours. The baseboards are cold and the hallway light is too dim, but none of it matters because she’s here and breathing softer now. Less like she’s holding her breath. More like she’s starting to believe she doesn’t have to.
“Do you think it’s stupid,” she whispers, “that I want someone to tell me I can rest?”
You shake your head. “No. I think it’s human.”
She’s quiet again. Then:
“Will you say it?”
You squeeze her hand. Thumb brushing her knuckles. The kind of touch you know she can actually feel.
“You’re allowed to rest, Ava.” You feel her lean into you a little more.
Something in her unclenches.
You help her up, slow and easy, no rush. She doesn’t protest when you guide her to bed. She collapses into the mattress like she’s been underwater for years. You settle in beside her. She doesn’t usually like to be held when she’s vulnerable—but tonight, she turns toward you. Finds the crook of your arm. Tucks herself in there like she belongs.
“You’ll stay?” she asks quietly.
“Always.”
She falls asleep with your shirt clutched in one hand and your other arm draped over her back, her breathing finally even. No flickers. No phasing.
Just Ava. Resting.
━━━━⊱⋆⊰━━━━
bob reynolds was so happy to have a peaceful, safe place to rest that he was happy to use it:
You were fucking exhausted, there was simply no other way to put it. It was a cold and cloudy day that had dragged on; every single hour felt like seven. You had just spent fifteen minutes looking for Robbie when it finally made sense. He’s already in bed, waiting for you, knowing you've had a long day. When you open the door, you see him stretched diagonally across the mattress like he’s trying to occupy every possible dimension of comfort.
One leg hanging off the side. One arm flung dramatically over your pillow. Half the blanket was tangled around his waist, the other half already on the floor. He blinks up at you when you open the door, slow and heavy-lidded like a cat in a sunbeam. His hair is sticking up in five different directions, and there’s a content, sleepy smile tugging at his mouth.
“You look cozy,” you say, amused. Dropping your shoes you had carried in, not wanting to dirty up the floor he had cleaned earlier.
“I am cozy,” he mumbles. “But I’d be cozier if you were here.”
You laugh and climb into bed beside him. He is so warm that you can feel the energy before you even get to touch him. The smell of a slightly salty vanilla was woven into your bed sheets from him lying there. The second you settle under the blanket, Bob instinctively shifts, tucking his head into the crook of your neck, slinging a long arm over your waist like it’s second nature. Which, at this point, it kind of is. His fingers tap at you gently, feeling you breathe.
“Mm. Yep. There it is,” he sighs, already sounding drowsier. “Perfect.”
You run your fingers gently through his soft hair. “Rough day?”
“Not even,” he says. “Just… long. Have you ever gotten that kind of tired where your bones feel floaty?”
You smile. “Only when you talk like that.” His voice sounded deeper and softer than usual like how a cat has a deeper purr when ready for a nap.
“Poetic,” he insists, eyes closed now, voice muffled against your shoulder. “I’m floaty-tired. Just need to melt.”
“You’re halfway there.”
You feel him grin. His hand finds yours under the blankets and laces your fingers together, thumb stroking lazily across your knuckles.
Everything about him in this moment is soft. His body, warm and loose against yours. His breathing slowed to match yours. The weight of his arm, the scratch of his stubble, the little hum he makes when you kiss the top of his head.
“This is my favorite,” he murmurs. “This part. Just you. Just now.”
You press your lips to his hair again. “Mine too.”
And for a few minutes, neither of you says anything.
You just exist there—tangled limbs, warm skin, the quiet comfort of being with someone who doesn’t need anything from you but to be near. Bob’s breath deepens. His grip on your hand loosens just a bit. You think he’s fallen asleep, but then—
“I hope you know I love you,” he whispers, voice thick with sleep.
Your chest tightens, but in the best possible way.
“I know,” you whisper back. “And I love you too.”
And this time, when he melts into sleep, it’s with a smile on his face and your heartbeat under his ear.
Summary: The Thunderbolts needed help with bringing Bob back to reality, so Bucky turned to one of his closest friend for help. Too bad that Yelena seems to absolutely hate your guts and despise the very idea of you breathing the same air in the same vicnicity as her because now you are all the Avengerz.
Word Count: 10k (oops i went overboard)
Warning: enemies to lovers, angst, panic attacks(yelena), eventual mention of smut(kept short n sweet), almost kissing, wounds, fighting yk the usual, miscommunication cuz thats lowk my fav trope n lotssss of yearning and almosts, also lowk bucky x reader but only for one single scene so
!THUNDERBOLTS SPOILERS AHEAD AS WELL AS BLACKWIDOW SPOILERS!
Continuation:Unrequited love
A/N: saw a post saying they needed an enemies to lovers slowburn yelena fic and i knew i just HAD to write this be i have been meaning to make a longer fic so i went overboard i am SO sorry but it just had to come out one way or anotheeTwT anyways REACHED 50 FOLLOWERS THANKYOU SO MUCH!!!! This means a lot to me you have no idea bc like damn 50 ppl like what i write thats crazy omgomg This took weeks to write so i hope it wont flop too bad, all likes comments and reblogs are more than apreciated!!iterally!!!you guys have no idea how much actually. Also, today is my birthday!!! Happy birthday to me this shall be my gift go you guys:))
Alright toodles:>
Masterlist
!English is not my native language!
If someone had told you a week ago that you'd be sharing a shaggy, run-down Uber car with the Thunderbolts, you'd have laughed, rolled your eyes, and gone back to your warm bed. But here you were—strapped in between John Walker and Ghost, watching the streets blur past the window, and pretending Yelena Belova wasn't glaring holes through your skull from across the damn runway of a car.
Bucky owed you. Big time.
When Bucky had barged in a few hours prior into your little apartment, you were lounging on your couch, half asleep, half awake, with a shirt that you barely managed to get on before you collapsed out of exhaustion, with a thin blanket on you which quite literally almost flew off because of his aggressive: “Get up right now!” followed with his harsh tug on your blanket. “What the actual fuck, Barnes?” —half of your sentence came out slurred because you were still somewhat in another world as Bucky kept spewing nonsense at you. Something regarding someone named Bob, John Walker, and some others you had never heard of, but what got your eyes opening was the mention of her name.
Yelena Belova.
It was no secret to anybody that knew the both of you that you absolutely hated each other. You couldn't pinpoint when exactly it happened, but at a certain point in time you noticed how rude she was to you—and only to you. Not to Bucky, not to whoever tried to kill her, and not even to the little kid that called her a boy and tried to throw his car toy at her head because he found her that scary. “If Yelena is involved, I don't think that Bob is going to be your biggest issue that needs fixing, Barnes. Go collect some other deeply traumatized hero to go play Avengers with.” “Yeah, no. You know that Sam won't talk to me anymore, and I don't know any others so... get the hell up. I will be downstairs. Red car. You got 2 minutes.” Didn't even let you open your mouth before he scurried downstairs to his supposedly red car. A troubled sigh left you as you ranked up the motivation to sit upright on your bed. Your head falling onto your hands as you rubbed your face to try and get yourself to wake up a little more. You hoped that whoever this Bob is wouldn't put up too much of a fight.
———
You stole a glance at her.
Your own mistake, really.
Her eyes locked with yours like she was mentally calculating exactly how many bones she could break before Bucky noticed. You gave her the world's most insincere smile, and she just shifted her eyes back to the window behind John with a dramatic sigh, like even acknowledging your existence was exhausting. Ghost nudged you with her elbow, smirking. "She's been glaring at you since we picked you up. What did you do to her?" "I don't know," you muttered. "Breathe too loudly, maybe?" “No, you breathing in general is pissing me off.” “You looking at me in general is pissing me off.” "Why are you even here? You couldn't even throw a ball back to a child that was in front of you. How exactly are you meant to help with Bob?" Each word of hers deepened her snarl. “That was one fucking time, Blondie.” “More than enough.” “Alright, you—” as you stood up to leap towards her, a taco-shaped shield was placed in front of you and you felt Bucky holding you back. “What the fuck is this?" your eyes were trained on the taco shield as you looked back at John. "What the fuck did you do?” "It was Bob..." your mouth hung open. “Bob? A Bob did this.” “Don’t act like you are any better than John. If it were you against Bob, you would have been that shield.” Yelena's deep accent cut through, and if it weren’t for Bucky pulling you to sit in front of him instead of her, you would have jumped her out of the damn car. “All right, that is enough of you two. I brought you here so that you can help, not make everything worse, and I don't want to hear another word from you or from Yelena until we arrive.” Bucky's eyes stayed trained on you during his whole little speech as you leaned back into your seat and tilted your head back. Your eyes closed out of pure fatigue, and before you knew it, you were already out.
_____
Fighting a Bob-shaped black void that was currently shadowing people left and right definitely wasn't on your fight-a-Bob to-do list. You were running around trying to prevent people from either being squashed by parts of buildings falling or being sent into the void by Bo—the Sentry?—no—the Void? You lost count of who Bob decided to be. Placing a little girl down onto the floor, your eyes snapped towards the group as you heard Alexei scream out Yelena's name. She was just a few feet away from you, standing directly in front of the void. “The hell are you doing?" you screamed out. You quickened your steps towards her as you saw her take a deep breath in before turning towards you with a cold but yet relaxed expression on her face. Furrowing your eyebrows in an unspoken question, you tried to reach her. Before you were able to drag her back by her arm, she let herself fall into the void, and your eyes widened. What the fuck just happened? You stumbled back away from the consuming void and from Yelena's shadow on the floor towards the group before turning to them to see Bucky and John pulling a wailing Alexei back. Just like before in the car, they all started arguing and panicking on what to do next, but your eyes were trained on the void. Blurring out their arguments, you slowly walked towards the consuming shadow and let it consume you as well.
—————
Flopping down on your crowded couch, you let out a loud groan as you pressed an ice pack onto your knee. Your head leaned on the back of the couch as you glanced at a very fidgety Bob next to you. “Have to give it to you, Bob. Extremely underestimated you. You practically handed our asses to us on a gold platter.” His eyes looked at you with such guilt, you almost pulled him into a hug. “No hard feelings,” you smiled at him. On the other side of you sat John and Alexei, and somewhere behind you, wandering around looking for something to eat, were Ava and Bucky. Yelena, although definitely in your apartment, was nowhere to be seen. Most likely in the bathroom.
After the whole fight with the Void, the group was too tired to wander back to their homes, so you just volunteered the idea that everybody crash at yours. It wasn't that far away from the crime scenes anyways, and it didn’t bother you all that much. Especially since Valentina is forcing you still to live in the New-Avengers-Old-Avengers watchtower that she has been rebuilding. As much as you hate her, you couldn't contain your excitement for the idea of living in such a huge space. Even if it was with these dorks and Yelena—God, your mind is all over the place and she still hasn't made an appearance. Your eyebrows furrow as you glance at the bathroom door. “Anybody know where Yelena is?”
Silence.
You looked over at John and Alexei, who were both out cold, and then at Bob, who just looked guilt-ridden toward the bathroom door. “She locked herself in the second we entered.” You stood up, and his eyes followed your movement. “Get some sleep, Bob. I know today was a lot for you—for all of us. I don’t even know where Ava and Bucky ran off to.” You softly smiled at him and turned toward the bathroom door as he settled down on the couch.
In front of it, you hesitated. What exactly were you even trying to do? Ever since she looked at you before entering the void, you couldn't shake a deep sense of guilt off of you. Although she looked at you with those same hate-filled eyes, you still saw it. She wasn’t sure what the void would do. She was ready to risk dying.
Your eyes locked onto the bathroom handle, and you slowly raised your hand to try and open the door. No luck—it only rattled. “Blondie? You in there?” Not a sound could be heard. You raised your fist to knock at the door. “Go away,” she muttered, accent thick with exhaustion and something else. “I am busy.” “Busy sulking?” “Busy not murdering you,” she corrected. “It’s self-care.” Although you usually would have sent her a sharp quip back, you still felt off. “You sure you’re good? Is—” “I told you I am fine. I do not need your sympathy.”
A beat of silence before you spoke up. “What was that today, Yelena?” By now your forehead was leaning against the door. The cold soothed your blaring headache. She didn’t answer, and instead you just heard a soft thud onto the floor. “Yelena?” Your only answer were soft mumbles and mutters from her that you could barely even hear. “Is everyth— Let me in, Yelena.” You cut yourself off after hearing multiple things fall to the floor. It sounded like she was hurling herself across the bathroom trying to get away. A loud sigh left you as you looked over to the group and realized they were all still deep asleep.
She wouldn’t talk to you, and you knew she wouldn’t let you in. “I’m just trying to help. You are not okay, Yelena. I saw the way you looked at him—at it. I mean—damn—you even had me worrying there and I don’t even—” You were cut off when your bathroom door rattled open slightly. The soft yellow light bled into the hallway in a small sliver.
Pushing the door further open, you saw her.
On the floor, still in her blood-soaked dirty suit, and even her face still had the dirt and rubble from the fight, and yet—yet she still raised her head to look at you with such a deep dislike in her eyes you wondered if maybe you were just conjuring all of this up because your mind was so overwhelmed today. Half-lidded blue eyes started to wander about anywhere but you, and her chest started heaving—that’s when you realized.
She was having a panic attack.
Her hand started rubbing over her heart, and the other one was grabbing onto your sink so hard her knuckles turned white. You quickly looked around to see if someone had awoken to the sound, but nobody did. You quickly pushed yourself into the bathroom and closed the door behind you to lock it before dropping down onto your knees in front of her.
Her head fell back onto the cold wall as her eyes closed, and she looked severely in pain—like something or someone was currently punching her over and over again. “Yelena? What’s going on?”
Your voice came out in such a soft manner that you even shocked yourself slightly. Your eyes wandered and flittered around her face as you took in her state. A coat of sweat started to form on her skin as her hair clung to her face. Her eyes snapped open and she looked at you and only you. “It hurts,” she breathed out. Her voice barely came out as a cry of a whisper, followed with a small sob.
You didn’t know what to do, but panicking about that would just make everything worse, so you focused on her. “What hurts? Do you need me to get anything? Maybe I should get Bob—hold on—”
As you went to stand up, you felt a heavy hand grab onto your wrist and you looked immediately at her. She shook her head but still avoided your eyes, but you knew what she was trying to tell you. Don’t leave me alone. An exasperated sigh left you as you crawled back to her level—now closer than you previously were. Your wrist still in her hand, and she had started to tighten her grip, seemingly looking for something to ground her. Slowly, your other hand raised toward her face but quickly stopped in the act when you saw her flinch away.
Hysterically, she started shaking her head again and muttered things in Russian that you couldn’t keep up with. Slowly, you started to piece together some words like “I’m sorry,” “please don’t hurt her,” and “Natasha.” You knew her sister’s death had greatly affected her—you just never assumed it was this bad to the point of her hallucinating. As she started trembling, her other free hand still rubbed away at her heart, but it started to look so painful you were sure the skin underneath was burning red. So you quickly grabbed her hand and held it still. “You are hurting yourself. That won’t help you. I need you to calm down, okay? Can you do that?”
Your words seemed to enter one ear and leave out the other as her eyebrows pinched together in pain. “Do you trust me?” you asked—not really expecting an answer—but to your surprise, you received a curt nod from her after a beat of silence.
Letting go of her hand and pulling away from her hold on you, your hand found the back of her head and you pulled her into you. Resting your chin on the top of her head, your free hand found comfort on her arm where your thumb rubbed softly at the suit-covered skin as if to soothe her—perhaps also a little yourself.
It took some time, but eventually she stopped shaking in your hold and instead clutched onto your shirt. You hadn’t stopped muttering soft words to help encourage her to calm down, and now she was so still you worried she might have cried herself to her own death.
You tried pulling away, but she only gripped onto your shirt tighter, so you only lowered your head. Hers was barely held up with eyes half-closed, lips red and swollen, littered with cuts and furrowed eyebrows. Her eyes fluttered between yours, and it took you a moment to realize just how close to her you were.
You could feel her ragged breath, noses so close they were brushing against each other, and still the light tremble in her hands. “Are you better now?” you whispered. “We need to get you out of your clothes and maybe into a bed—or the couch if John and Alexei haven’t taken the entire thing over.”
Still no answer, but it wasn’t like you had expected her to give you one. Not in her current state, at least.
Pulling out of her hold and leaving the bathroom turned out to be the most difficult task the entire day had given you. She had eventually pulled away from you - actually, she even pushed you away from her—but her untreated wounds seemed to have festered and worsened, as she could barely stand up. So you held her upright.
You helped her get to your room and laid her down onto your clean bed. You gave her some shirt you found lying around in your closet that you weren’t even entirely sure was yours, with some jeggings. Her wounds were treated by herself, but you didn’t leave the room when she did it. Not in your good conscience, you couldn’t.
She returned to her cold state she previously always sported around, and you knew what this meant—she would act like none of this had happened. And maybe a part of you had hoped for that as well, because at the end of the day, you hated her and she hated you—right?
Now you were both laying on your bed with you on your back and her on her side with her back facing you. Your head turned to her side as your eyes wandered over her silhouette before turning back to the ceiling.
You were just glad this hell of a day was finally coming to an end. As you closed your eyes, you could have sworn you heard a hoarse “Thank you” come from her side before everything faded to black.
—————
Over the span of the next few days, she went back to how she was before—cold, mean, and just plain petty. The only difference now was that she was crueler, and even though you knew you shouldn't say anything, you couldn’t help but confide in Bucky. Bucky, who was currently standing in front of you in a fighting stance, ready to knock you on your ass—all the while looking extremely confused. “So, wait. You hugged her?” “Held her just close to me.” “Hugged her. Helped her calm down after a panic attack, and she didn’t even let you leave afterwards—and now she’s ignoring you?” “Ignoring me would have been mercy. No. She’s just a plain bitch to me now. At least before she would shut up when she realized I’d had enough. Now it’s just jab after jab after jab.” You let out a sigh. “Punch your feelings out.” Your arms dropped, and you tilted your head to look at him with a "The fuck are you saying?" facial expression. “Come on. It helps. I promise. Do it as hard as you—”
You cut him off by moving toward him steadily, one jab to his side, the next to his shoulder which he blocked with his metal arm. He got a strong punch to your ribcage, and you stumbled back in faux pain. As he strutted closer to you to apologize, you quickly grabbed his arm and twisted it around to throw him on the floor. He caught your arm and pulled you down with him just underneath you, with you sat on his lap, both breathing heavily.
“You’ve gotten rusty, old man,” you let out with a smirk. “Haha. You’re just as out of breath as me. Don’t get cocky now.”
He pulled himself up with you still in his lap, one hand finding purchase on your side to stabilize you. His eyes locked on yours, and a beat of silence followed. Just now, you realized how close he was to you, much like Yelena was earlier this week—but this time, you didn’t feel the way she made you feel.
As you opened your mouth to say something, anything really, you heard a loud clap followed by a thick Russian accent screaming:
“Only real American heroes are able to fight and love! Bucky Barnes, you are phenomenal! America’s big hero, everybody!”
You rolled your eyes as you spotted not only Alexei but John and—worse of all—Yelena, who looked about six seconds away from murdering you. You tumbled off of Bucky, who still hadn’t stopped staring at you, paying no mind to the rest of the gang just behind him, arguing about what “professionals” should and shouldn’t do in their training room.
Taking off your hand bandages, you placed them down on the floor and quickly grabbed your towel, trekking out of the room and into the bathroom to shower… whatever that was off.
After your shower and after you retreated back to your own room, you laid down on your warm bed. Arm above your eyes, you were close to falling asleep before someone almost ripped the damn hinges off your door with how hard they were knocking.
“One fucking second,” you muttered as you forced yourself to get up.
Maybe it was Bob and he’d lost control again. Maybe Bucky finally caved in and stuck John's head into the trashcan and now can’t get him out. Or maybe…
Maybe it was just Yelena in front of you, looking extremely disheveled, like she had just woken up to the worst news of her entire life.
“Can I help you?” Your voice came out more hostile than you intended, but you really weren’t in the mood for her bullshit right now.
“I can’t fucking sleep,” she said, her accent thick with exhaustion. It was similar to how it sounded just a few days ago. She shoved her way into your room and sat down on your bed.
“Okay, so make yourself at home, I guess. You ignore me all week and now all of the sudden you can’t—” “Do you ever stop talking?” “No.”
A sigh left your parted lips. “Are you staying here tonight?”
She didn’t say anything, but you already understood her: Yes, I will. And I will sleep in your bed with you.
Laying yourself down on your side of the bed, you patted the empty space beside you. “Might as well get comfy.”
Slowly but surely, she made her way to lay down next to you. Your eyes trailed her profile, and it hurt how pretty she was. Slowly, she turned her head toward you, and once again, there was barely any space left between you two. Her eyes trailed down to your lips, where they stayed—laser focused.
“Lena?” Her eyes snapped up. They were wide and feral, like she was looking—hunting—for something inside of you that only she was aware of.
You closed your eyes and took a deep breath in. “Get some sleep. Or try to, at least. It’s late.” Caving in, your body relaxed and once again you were on the brink of falling asleep—but to her, it must have seemed like you were already dead to the world.
A warmth spread over your face as you slowly felt her hand cup your cheek. Thumb brushing over the apple of your cheek, your nose slope, and your cupid’s bow with feather-light touches that could almost be described as nonexistent. Almost.
You heard her mutter something in Russian before her hand fell, and you felt a deep sense of disappointment grow inside of you. Still, you didn’t open your eyes to look at her. Instead, you turned your back to her and fell asleep—because this, whatever this was, was entirely wrong.
She’s meant to hate you not come into your room at 2 a.m. just to touch and feel you exist beside her. Yet you crave this. You need this just as bad, if not worse than her.
By morning, you had assumed she was already gone, but when you opened your eyes, you were greeted by tousled platinum blonde hair all over your face. Blowing it away, your hand moved to push it all down and you felt her. Looking down, you could see how she had practically become one with you. Head heavy on your chest, one hand holding yours, the other cradling your cheek. Her breathing remained soft, unbothered, so your hand found the back of her neck and began to softly caress her. You couldn’t understand what any of this meant or what she was doing, but you weren’t going to tell her to stop.
No you wanted her to continue. And she did.
For two more weeks, on and off, she would come barging into your room and just lay there. Not one single word was uttered, but you knew—she had a nightmare, so she came to you for comfort. However, during the day, she was still the same cruel, heartless girl you had known for years. Most days, you assumed her coming over was a new form of sleep paralysis that you had developed, because she truly showed you no difference.
Although you may have not noticed any change, Bucky sure did.
He saw the longing glances she gave you when you looked away. Her furrowed eyebrows toward John when he took a quick jab at you for something she would have said much worse to. Or when Alexei went to wrap his arm around you, he saw her flinch—as if he had done it to her and not you.
He tried ignoring it, because at the end of the day, this was your life and your relationships—but when Alexei and John caught on, he knew it was just a matter of time before something excessive happened.
But for now, you were sent away on a solo mission that Valentina had conjured up as good press work. Normally, you would’ve complained and even yelled at her, but you just really needed a break from everybody back at the tower. Especially her.
The mission wasn’t supposed to be that hard: get in, destroy the lab, and get out. It was supposed to be empty—because that’s what that witch Valentina told you.
But obviously, it wasn’t.
No, right now a 6-foot-something man had you in a chokehold, while another man had taken all of your knives with him.
Wherever you were rendered your powers entirely useless—you assumed the walls were coated with something to stop superheroes from interfering.
Your nails dug into his arm and you felt a small puddle of blood forming underneath. Eyes feeling like they were about to pop out of your head, your hand reached to his face, digging your nails in before dragging them down to his eyes.
He let out a loud groan before pushing you off of him, and you fell to the floor, heaving.
Your hand went to your neck in an attempt to comfort yourself before you turned and saw him dragging his feet toward you. In front of you, about two feet away, lay your weapon but you couldn’t tell anymore if there were any bullets left. Your brain was too scrambled from the lack of oxygen.
So instead, you leapt forward and grabbed it. On your back, you aimed the gun toward his head as he started sprinting toward you, and shot him square between the eyes.
When you heard him fall with a loud thud to the floor, your head dropped onto the hard, blood-covered concrete beneath you.
Your head was spinning, something somewhere on your body burned, and you felt your own blood pooling beneath your clothes.
Still—you had to get up. The mission wasn’t done. You knew somewhere along the hallways were many more men. Your phone was discarded in your bag at the roof of the building, meant to be picked up after the mission, but dying seemed like a more likely possibility than ever seeing your stupid phone again.
“Damn you, Valentina. You fucking bitch,” you muttered as you lifted yourself up with shaky arms.
Your legs wobbled beneath you and you almost fell face-flat. Looking down at the gun in your hand—you had about three more bullets left. You hoped it was enough.
You tracked your way down the hall and set all the timers for the bombs. You were almost out of the door when it ripped open and about five or six way-too-muscular men came barging in.
More footsteps emerged from behind you, and by then, you had started to make peace with the fact that you were most likely going to die in less than two minutes.
A loud sigh escaped you as you leaned against the wall for support, eyes closed.
Before anyone could do anything, the windows shattered. You dropped to the floor to avoid the shards.
One by one, the men dropped.
With wide eyes, you looked outside the broken window and saw Bucky—just on top of the next building, rifle in hand.
Relief washed over you as your body collapsed in on itself and you fainted.
Before everything went black, you heard her. Screaming your name with such anxiety and worry you second-guessed whether it was real or not. Warm, shaky hands engulfed your face, her thumb stroking your cheek.
By the time your eyes opened again, you were half-blinded by harsh white lights.
Turning your head to the side, you realized you were in a hospital room. Outside your door, you heard chatter and murmurs. You caught Alexei’s pungent Russian accent and Bob’s nervous stuttering—which made you smile a little… before grimacing. Your entire body hurt. There wasn’t a single point that wasn’t burning or bruised. Looking around more, you saw flowers, gifts, food, and balloons that read: “Congrats! It’s a boy.”
You heard the door handle rattle, and soon enough, almost all of the team pushed through the door. Bob was the first to notice you had regained consciousness.
“Hey... Hey! Guys! Look!” he pointed frantically as they all fell silent, just staring at you. A small smile found your lips as you opened your mouth to speak—but nothing came out. Bucky quickly rushed out to call for a doctor while the rest surrounded you. All but her.
She was nowhere to be seen. And a deep sense of disappointment befell you.
Had she cared so little about you? You swore it was her holding your face as you bled out. Her whispering into your skin as you were driven to the hospital. Her holding your hand. Even in your half-dead state, you felt the pressure.
It was always her.
So why wasn’t she here now?
Before you could help yourself, your heart monitor began to speed up. “Whoa—hey, hey, are you good? Damn, where the hell is Bucky?” John asked, placing his hand on your arm to comfort you.
Soon enough, Bucky followed with the doctor. He checked your vitals, declaring them stable for now before quickly leaving the room, still glancing at the papers in his hands.
The team stayed a while until all cleared—but Bucky. He was left looking at you with extreme pity.
“What? What did I do?” “You want to know how she’s been doing?” You didn’t answer right away, instead opting to stare at the ceiling.
“Why does she hate me, Buck? I didn’t even do anything…”
The second part came out as a hurtful whisper as your eyes found his.
“I don’t think she hates you. Matter of fact, she was the one who felt something was wrong with your mission. Claimed you usually send a cat sticker in the group chat to announce you were done but you didn’t this time. So she demanded we check on you. When we found you, she was shaking. She wouldn’t talk to anybody for days after. Even when she went on missions, nobody knew or heard.”
“…So why isn’t she here now?”
“She always is. During the night, she would sneak out to sit with you.” His eyes dart to his watch on his wrist. “Should be about time actually. I should get going. Play nice with her. She has had it rough.” He stood up and made it to his door before stopping just before opening it. “I’m glad you are okay.” As reluctant as you were, you did want to believe him about Yelena, but it was just so hard and confusing with her. Before your thoughts could spiral any further, your hospital door opened again. Eyes snapping towards the door, you saw her in all of her glory—messy blonde hair with makeup smudged and many, many bruises littered all around her. She was breathing heavily.
“You are awake,” she muttered out in a thick, exhausted Russian accent. “Yeah, I guess so.”
She moved before you could blink; all of a sudden, her arms were around you, careful not to hurt you any more but just tight enough to let you know she was scared.
Your hand finds her head, and you brush her hair a little. Pulling away from you, her arms stayed near you.
“You are stupid. Dumb. An idiot.” You knew she meant to insult you yet you didn’t focus on that.
No, you focused on how red her eyes looked and how deep her eyebags ran, how her lips were turned into a frown, and how she was barely holding herself together. You didn’t say anything; you simply pulled her in by her forearm.
“Stop talking and just lay with me. You need rest more than me.”
With that, she laid herself down around you, mindful of all the bits and bobs attached to you. Her head, just like before, found purchase on your chest before you and her passed out in tandem.
It took you all of two weeks before you were finally allowed to return to the Avengers Tower. Yelena had been the first to come from the team to help bring your stuff back. Slowly but surely, you began recovering, and before you all knew it, you were all okay again.
The only problem was that none of them would let you on a mission. Not even Valentina her goddamn self.
When you asked Bucky, he told you that you needed more rest and going out on missions alone in your current state was unwise and possibly very dangerous. You tried going in teams with John or Ava, but again they simply brushed you off.
“I just don’t understand. I am fine, I have recovered—even my damn bruises are gone—why can’t I just be sent on another mission?” You voiced out your concern to Bob most days because, just like you, he would always stay back on missions, so you just grew to talk his ear off.
“I mean, they just want to be nice? They don’t want you to hurt yourself again. Give them some time—I am sure they will come around. Besides, being alone in the tower isn’t so bad? Is it?...”
The last part came out more as a question to himself than to you, but you let it be. Turning your head to look at him, you let out a small chuckle.
“I still don’t quite understand the whole thing with Yelena. One day she latches herself onto me, the next she looks like she would want to kill me, and every time I try to talk about it, nothing comes out of her. I am getting tired of her stupid game.”
“Maybe corner her?”
“Corner her? How?”
“Like in the bathroom all those weeks ago? Or something?” He seemed so unsure of what he was saying that for a second, you had to stifle a small laugh as a smile broke out on your face.
“Want food, Bob? I’m sure we still got something left?” He nods and you get up to get both of you some food. You should at least consider yourself happy that Bob would still be around—and not just you and the endless voices of despair and shame catching up to you.
In a few days, there would be a huge gala event that the entire team needed to attend, so your plan was to go there, meet with Valentina, and force her to give you a new mission—it shouldn’t be that hard anyway. You were sure that Bucky and the others have just been taking your missions for themselves before you get a chance to even see them without Valentina’s consent or knowledge.
Looking around the kitchen isle, you found little to no actual snacks for you and Bob. Some apples, some bananas.
Turning around to the cupboards, you purse your lips in thought. Where the hell did Alexei and John hide their sweets? You know very well they do—you just need to find where. Soon enough, you found Alexei’s stash on the top of the cupboards—damn tall super soldiers. Even on your tiptoes, you couldn’t reach the mile-high top, so you looked around for a chair to stand on.
Dragging one from the seating table, you quickly grabbed the first thing that came to hand, which were some salt and vinegar chips—you weren’t too sure if Bob would like them, but they had to do for now.
Placing the chair back to its place, you quickly walked back to Bob on the couch who looked immensely immersed in whatever rom-com he put on when you left.
Once on the couch, you ripped open the bag and held it open to him.
“Couldn’t find anything else. Hope you like what I served you.”
Bob simply smiled at you before pulling a few chips out of the bag. One hour into the movie and you heard the elevator door ding open. Tossing your head back to look at the couch, you smiled at them. They looked rough.
“You fight Thanos himself, or why do you guys look like hell in human form?” You fight back a grin as John stumbled over his feet and nearly took Alexei with him.
Your eyes quickly divert to Yelena, who quite arguably looked the worst out of all of them. Your eyebrows furrow in an unasked question. Are you okay? You knew the answer, but still. You don’t like seeing her like this—so weak—so empty?
You thought you made progress with her after the whole hospital situation, and even though she has severely eased up on the backtalk (although you weren’t too sure it was because you guys were becoming friends or if she just saw you as too weak to handle them currently), she still wasn’t the nicest to you considering what was happening at night with the both of you.
You even started to leave your bedroom door open when you went to sleep because you just knew she would come and wouldn’t want to possibly wake you by opening your creaking door.
You always tried to make everything easier for her, and you don’t even know why.
All you knew was that sometimes you would wake up in the middle of the night to find her next to you. You would stare, and you would whisper everything you wanted to tell her—how you felt about her, how you want her to feel about you, and more. You would trace the slope of her button nose and brush your finger to her lips just to have a small sense of what it could feel like—her lips on you. Not just on your own lips, but everywhere. You wanted to feel her everywhere, for her to be everything and it was starting to become harder and harder to ignore outside of the vulnerable moments you shared in your bed.
It wasn’t fair how she was able to laugh so freely with Ava, hug Bob so easily when he needed it, look at them with joy and love and not hate and shame. Were you that bad of an option? Did she find it embarrassing to go to Bob for help so she found you as a plan B because she knew you wouldn’t say anything?
God, everything about her just hurt. It hurt how badly you wanted her, and it hurt how obvious it was she would never want you.
Shaking your head rid of those thoughts, you stood up from your place at the couch next to Bob and bid him goodnight before disappearing into your room. Your eyes find your door handle. If she was that embarrassed to be around you, maybe you should just help her stop—maybe it would even help you to stop feeling for her.
So, you locked your bedroom door and made your way to bed. Too lazy to get up and do anything, you were out in just a few minutes and were only awoken by the soft rattle of your bedroom door.
At first, you had been scared maybe someone was trying to get in, but you quickly got to your senses and realized who it was.
Closing your eyes, you turned onto your side and tried to fall asleep again, only succeeding after the rattling of the door handle had finally stopped. A sigh of relief left you.
Maybe this was exactly what you needed. A break from her.
Days passed by and you stopped seeing her and ultimately stopped thinking about her—unless you count the fact that you still sleep on only one side of your bed because you still think she will come.
She won’t.
But she doesn’t seem any better off without you. Her eyebags lay heavy beneath her crystal green eyes that look so dull, so lifeless it scares you almost.
Now you were standing in your room preparing yourself for that gala that was in less than an hour. Your hair wasn’t done yet, and you also didn’t even want to think about doing it because then you might actively tear the entire tower apart from frustration.
Instead, you opted to simply wear your dress and finish applying your makeup for now.
You heard a rough knock on your door before you let out a, “It’s open!”
Turning your back to the door, you fumble through your makeup bag to look for that specific lipstick shade that you knew you had somewhere in here. Or was it in the bathroom?
“You look good.” Her thick accent makes you freeze mid-motion.
You turn to look at her—really look at her.
She has a blue dress on that fit the colour of her eyes so perfectly. That blonde hair of hers only adding to the effects of the dress and her makeup—simple but nonetheless there—and her lips. They looked so red—so full and plump.
You couldn’t stop staring.
“What do you want, Lena?” You couldn’t shake the nickname no matter how mad she made you.
At first she said nothing, simply opting to stare at you instead—top to bottom, where her eyes lingered on the curves of your body and of your neck. She stepped closer, but you were still all together confused on why she was even here and what she even wanted from you.
“Yelena?” You voiced out.
“Hm?” “What are you doing?” “You have been keeping me out. Why?” Her eyes flitted between yours.
Your heart raced and you were starting to sweat. Profusely so. A deep sigh escaped you as you tried to look at her in a stern way. “You ignore me all day, crawl to my bed at night and hold me—which, yes, I am awake when you do it because I can’t fucking sleep next to you without thinking about you. How does that work? I think about you and I miss you, yet you are laying right next to me knowing by morning you will act like I am a dead man walking. Yelena, it fucking hurts.”
By the end, you were a mere breath away from her. You felt her ragged breath, you saw every small micro-expression she was giving you, and it was ruthless how unbothered she seemed by all of this. Your shaky hands go to cradle her face, and in a small whisper you mutter out, “Why?”
Her eyes dropped down to your lips and they remained there—staring and awaiting. Pulling her in closer, your lips parted just above hers. Would it be so bad? To just go in? You felt them brushing slightly against yours as your eyes snapped up to hers, asking an unspoken question. Out of pure hesitation, you started to pull back, but it didn’t get very far before she pulled you back in by your arms. Her lips consumed yours, and all of your worries and all of your doubts flashed away, and it was only her in your mind. Pulling you with her, you stumbled at the foot of the bed and sat down on it, her between your legs now, holding onto your face as your hands dropped to her waist.
She hasn’t left your lips even for a small breath—
A loud knock pulled you out of your fantasy, and you found yourself back hunched over your makeup bag, lipstick in hand.
Had you been fucking hallucinating that?
Looking around and then back to the mirror, you realize you look normal—nothing out of place, no smudged makeup from her tight grip on your face or anything and you felt like ransacking your entire bedroom because of it.
You missed her badly, and even that small glint of her from her open bedroom door, getting ready with Ava in tow, was enough to send you over the edge and start imagining her. It was certainly not the first time you daydreamed—or dreamed in general—of her. During the nights when she laid next to you, you would often dream about how she would feel bare on you. Her lips trailing down a path of lust and neediness down on you.
How you would feel just wrapped all around her.
Your door opened, and you saw John standing there. His eyes did you a quick run-over before smirking at you.
“Don’t say anything weird, John. What do you want?” “Car’s out waiting, everybody else is done. Had to come get you—are you finished?”
Quickly grabbing your purse and stuffing your lipstick that you finally found in, you rush out behind John.
Once in the car, you sat opposite of Yelena, who was running her eyes up and down. Your eyes met hers, and how you wished you could read her mind in this moment.
Was she judging you? Or was she admiring you?
The car ride took a dreadful 20 minutes of Alexei screaming with John about how excited they are. Everybody else was dead silent save for a few chuckles here and there when Alexei did something stupid or someone threw a jab at John.
The Gala itself was beautifully ornamented. An orchestra to the sides playing soft background music, chatter all around, and most importantly a bar in which you could drink away Yelena—or at least try to.
After about two glasses and a handful of very annoying rich people coming to congratulate you on being a part of the new Avengers, you started to feel lightheaded.
Your eyes scanned the crowd and there you saw her. Bathed in the moonlight that shone through the big window behind her, peeking out from the velvet red curtains covering them.
It shone on her in a way that angels would shine should they step foot on earth.
Her eyes skitted to yours from across the hallway. You didn’t know how long you both stood there, watching each other. Could’ve been seconds, could’ve been forever. The music faded behind you like you were submerged underwater, the chatter turning into a dull hum in your ears. Nothing existed but her—Yelena, haloed in that goddamn moonlight like some kind of sick miracle sent to test you again.
She tilted her head just the slightest bit. You knew that look. You’d spent nights memorizing every tick of her face, every twitch of her brow, every small furrow that meant something more. This one said she was thinking too loud inside her head, same as you were. Maybe you were dreaming again. Maybe she was still a ghost haunting your bed when the lights went out.
But when she started walking toward you, slow and unsure like the floor might cave in with each step, you knew this wasn’t a dream. You knew because your heart started racing again. Loud. Relentless. Stupid.
She stopped just inches in front of you, eyes scanning your face like she was making sure you were real, too.
“You locked your door.”
You didn’t expect that to be the first thing she said, “Yeah,” you replied, voice quieter than you meant it to be. “I needed to make it stop.”
She looked down at her hands for a second. Then back up, those stormy blue eyes all cracked and tired and too honest. “I know,” she said. “I’m sorry.”
You blinked hard, trying not to lose it in the middle of some overpriced ballroom in front of the entire team. “Why are you here, Yelena?”
Her lips pressed together, and for a second you thought she’d walk away again.
“Because we were both invited to the Gala tonight?” She chuckled dryly.
Your hands trembled where they clutched at your now empty glass, torn between touching her and pushing her away.
“You can’t keep crawling into my bed if you’re not willing to stay in the morning, Yelena.”
“I know,” she whispered. “But you also need to know that i am scared.“
You didn’t trust her. Not completely. Not yet. But when she reached for your hand and your fingers slipped together like they belonged there—like maybe this was the one thing the world didn’t plan to ruin—you let her hold on.
The orchestra shifted into something softer, something gentler. She gave your hand the smallest squeeze.
“Dance with me?” she asked.
And even though your legs felt like they might give out and your chest was still tight with the weight of everything unsaid—you nodded.
You stepped onto the floor together, slow and unsure. Her arms wrapped around you, and yours found their way home to her waist. Neither of you really knew the steps, but it didn’t matter. For the first time in a long time, it didn’t matter. Because she was here. In the light. In your arms. Not just when the door was closed and the world asleep.
