#aunt!yelena belova

[upat4amwiththemoon]

Hi, I know this is 2 years after you wrote it, but I just found the piece you wrote between Kate Bishop and Natasha’s Daughter Reader. ‘A goddess’. What can I say. I found myself liking the idea and as I was reading it through. I realised I would be curious to see a part 2 if you were up for it. No doubt along the lines of Yelena finding out Kate is dating her niece. Let’s just say the whole concept with Clint finding out was amusing and wondered how it would then play out with Yelena.

A goddess | 2

Summary: Mysterious girl with an assassin mother.

Pairing: Kate Bishop x female!Romanoff!reader, Natasha Romanoff x daughter!reader, Yelena Belova x niece!reader

Warnings: mother bear Natasha, auntie bear Yelena

Word count: 1516

a/n: I actually started writing a second part two years ago but then kinda forgot it :DD

Tags: @thought-of-you-and-me @rafecameronswhore @natashamaximoff69 @scarsw1fe

masterlists | guidelines

All parts: part 1, part 2

”We’re home!” Y/N yells into the seemingly empty house, slamming the door shut after Kate steps inside.

“Kitchen.”

Y/N snorts at the short answer from her mother. “She doesn’t sound too excited.” Kate mumbles, taking off her shoes and jacket.

“She is.” Y/N reassures. “She’s just..cautious. You know how she is.” She mumbles quiet enough so her mother doesn’t hear.

The couple walk into the kitchen, where they see Natasha stirring a pot of mac and cheese while looking at her phone intently. “Why are you cooking?” Y/N frowns, looking at her mother’s mess of a braid.

“What? You’re the only one allowed to cook in this house?”

“I’m the only why knows how to cook.” She comments with a teasing grin that Natasha ignores with a roll of her eyes. “We’re going to my room.”

“No, no, no.” Now Natasha turns to look at them, though she mostly ignores Kate. “If you two want to spend time here, you do it on the living room.” She stares at Y/N with raised brows.

“Wh-“

“Living room, where I can see you two.” Natasha states. “Or, Kate leaves.”

Letting out a huff, Y/N grabs Kate’s hand and pulls her to the living room that is in the clear view of the kitchen. Kate sits on the couch with a perfect posture, her eyes straight forward, staring at the empty television screen.

“You can calm down.” Y/N whispers, bumping Kate’s shoulder with her own as she puts the television on.

“She’s staring at me.”

Y/N glances at Natasha. The woman is glancing at the two often, but she isn’t full on staring at them. “She’s busy cooking, for some reason.” She smiles, leaning against Kate. Their touches are always as innocent as possible around Natasha.

For the next hour or so they talk, quietly, and watch the television, until a knock on the front door interrupts them.

Frowning, Y/N turns to look at Natasha, who is cleaning her hands and about to go to the door. “Who is coming over?”

“Yelena.”

With widened eyes, she curses and stands up quickly, turning off the television. Kate is staring at her, starting to panic too. “What? What’s going on?”

“If you are afraid of someone in my family, be afraid of Yelena.” She whispers harshly, carefully listening to Natasha and Yelena’s voices by the door.

Kate’s eyes widens too as she stands up, her body rigid again. “Fuck, right, she’s your aunt.” She quickly starts brushing invisible dust off of her clothes. “Are you…going to tell her about us?”

“Of course not, she’d kill us both.”

“Shit, shit, shit.” Kate whispers to herself, taking a step back from Y/N so they wouldn’t be so close to each other.

Yelena and Natasha finally walk into the living room. “There’s my niece!” Yelena yells out with her arms wide. Y/N smiles, walking to her to be embraced by her aunt.

“Hey, Yel.” She lets out a giggle as she gets bear hugged. Once they pull away from each other, Y/N gestures towards Kate, who Yelena finally notices. “This is-“

“Kate Bishop!” Yelena grins. “I know you. You are an Avenger too.”

Kate’s eyes are widen when she gets addressed. “Uhh, yeah.” She nods a couple times too many to be considered normal. “Yeah, that’s…that’s me.”

“So shy this one, eh?” Yelena glances at Natasha, who answers by nodding with a small smirk on her face.

“You don’t know the half of it.”

Y/N glares at her mom, not wanting Yelena to know about her relationship, not yet at least. She knows her aunt will always be supportive of her, but dating Kate Bishop, the young and reckless Avenger, would cause too much stress for her.

“Let’s go eat.” Natasha gestures for everyone to go to the kitchen. “I made enough mac and cheese to feed a town.”

“That’s why you’re my favourite sister.” Yelena’s sing songy voice makes Natasha roll her eyes.

Y/N and Kate glance at each other as the two adults go into the kitchen. They walk into the kitchen right after, taking their seats opposite of them. Natasha brings the pot to the table, opening the lid and putting a ladle inside. “Guests first.” Yelena picks the ladle right away, scooping a generous amount of food on her plate. “Yelena!”

“What?” She frowns, taking one more scoop just in case. “You said guests first.”

“I meant Kate. You basically live here.”

Yelena scoffs, already eating. “Whatever. Kate Bishop can wait.”

“Yes, I can wait.” Kate states with a tight lipped smile on her face. She takes the ladle for escape the looks she gets.

Y/N bumps her leg against Kate’s under the table, it’s meant to be a comforting touch, but it makes Kate spill some of the mac and cheese on the table.

“Shit!” Her face turns red. “Sorry! I didn’t…curse.” She clears her throat, eyes wide from as the mortification settles in her body.

Y/N stares at her, trying to give her some sort of subtle look to get a grip, but nothing hoes unnoticed by the two ex spies. “What’s going on here?” Yelena waves her fork between Kate and Y/N.

“Nothing!”

“I’m just a clutz!”

“They’re dating.”

A silence falls over the table. Kate and Y/N’s eyes are wide as they stare at smirking Natasha, the latter is glaring at her mother.

Yelena sets her fork down. “Say that again?”

“They’re dating.”

“Why is Kate Bishop dating my niece?” Yelena is staring at the couple with stern eyes, neither of them knowing if the question was directed at them. “Well?”

Y/N rolls her eyes. “Because.” Is all she says, her arms crossed over her chest.

An extremely dramatic gasp leaves Yelena’s mouth. “Do not because me! I taught you how to sass, you aren’t supposed use it against me.” She furrows her brows, a look of betrayal on her face as she keeps her eyes on her niece. Y/N has always found her dramatics amusing, but they seem less fun when they’re directed at her.

“I don’t have to explain my relationship to you. To either of you.” She glances at both of them.

“Yes you do. You were supposed to tell me first, so I could scare your girlfriend around and then I’d help you tell Natasha.” Yelena states, having thought this situation through many times. “Why was I not the first one to know?”

“Because mom walked in on us.” Yelena’s whole face screws up. “No!” Y/N quickly points at her. “She walked in on us kissing, we were only kissing.”

Shaking away the disgusting thoughts, Yelena turns to Kate with a glare. “What are your intentions with my niece? Why are you dating her?”

Her eyes widen. “I-“ she looks between Yelena and Natasha, suddenly feeling like the room is overheating, “because I love her.”

“You love me?”

She turns to look at Y/N. “Of course I do.”

“This is how you tell my niece you love her for the first time?” Yelena gapes at her, the look on her face not getting any better. “Where are the flowers and romantic gestures?”

“Yelena!” Y/N groans, throwing a piece of napkin her way. It doesn’t fly far.

Kate’s mind is short circuiting, everything is happening so quickly. She doesn’t know whether to fear Yelena or continue confessing her love to Y/N. So, she stands up. “I can get flowers!”

“Sit down, Kate.” Y/N pulls her down back to the chair. “Everybody calm down. We are dating, neither you or mom can do anything about it, and that’s it.” She turns to Kate. “I don’t need flowers or romantic gestures, I love you too.”

Letting out a breath, Kate nods with a somewhat relieved smile. “Okay.” She nods and turns to Yelena. “I really love Y/N, and just like I told Natasha, I really hope to get your support to continue seeing her. I will never ever hurt her, I know you will hunt me down if I do.”

“Damn right I will.” Yelena mumbles. “Fine, Kate Bishop. But I will keep my eyes on you.”

“Yes, ma’am.” Yelena gives her a look. “Miss. Belova, Yelena, I mean.” Kate coughs, downing half of her water so she wouldn’t keep talking.

“Kids these days.” She shakes her head and goes back to eating the mac and cheese like nothing happened.

Natasha, who preferred to enjoy the show rather than contribute to it, grins at Y/N. “Eat up honey, the food’ll get cold.”

“I will get back at you.” She mumbles, sending a soft glare at her mother’s way, though she really doesn’t mean it. “You okay?” Y/N sets her hand on Kate’s thigh.

“Yeah, yeah I’m good.” Kate shoves a forkful of food in her mouth.

Y/N giggles and kisses her cheek, ignoring the the looks her mom and aunt give her. She starts eating, hoping the rest of Yelena’s visit would be less eventful.

[twitt3rpate]

"NOTHING LASTS FOREVER."

Several months have passed from the infamous fight at the airport in Germany. Since then, newly married Steve and Natasha have been reunited. They spend their days running secret op missions and pass the remainder of the time in musty hotels with Sam, Wanda, and occasionally Vision.

That is until Natasha is separated. Alone and pregnant, the Black Widow must navigate Eastern Europe with nothing but a gun and her skills on the side. 

Or that is until she finds some old friends, family really. The past catches up with her and Natasha must choose who can she trust with her massive secret. 

She now lives among killers, assassins, and spies. Old friends and potential allies threaten to slit her throat if she dares to fall asleep. The Black Widow must learn to evolve.

One things for certain though, she will stop at nothing to protect herself and the impossible life now growing within her.

ORIGINALLY POSTED ON WATTPAD UNDER SAME USERNAME. COPYRIGHT.   @marvel       &         twitterpate

All chapters are available on ao3. Read now! 

[writerslittlelibrary]

Aunt!Yelena x niece!reader headcanons

masterlist

a/n: here’s the second one !! writing auntie Yelena has to be one of my favourite things ever :))

You do not have my permission to repost, copy or translate my work

 |——————————— ⴵ ———————————|

Auntie Yelena who was more than ecstatic to meet you when she first heard about you. She was totally overjoyed when she found out that Natasha was adopting a baby girl

Auntie Yelena who spoiled you with gifts ever since you were a baby. Natasha had once tried telling her to stop because her house simply couldn’t take much more stuff, but after she saw the joy it brought Yelena she had given up trying to stop her

Auntie Yelena who always stole you out of Natasha’s arms when she came over. She always wanted to hold you. After Natasha would put you down for a nap Yelena would sneak into your room and hold you while you slept. Natasha caught her once but decided not to say anything. She adored watching her sister love her daughter so much

Auntie Yelena who took you with her when she went to adopt a dog at the shelter. She valued your opinion more than anyone else's

Auntie Yelena who, when she came over, always brought you a gift from whatever place she had been to then. She was always travelling, and her favourite thing was bringing something with her for you

Auntie Yelena who ‘accidentally’ taught you multiple curse words, enjoying Natasha’s face when you blurted one out. Obviously you didn’t know what they meant. All you knew was that your auntie Yelena would laugh when you said ‘fuck,’ and you took great pride in being able to make your auntie ‘Lena laugh

Auntie Yelena who, when you got older, would take you on little road trips around the city. She would simply show up in front of the house and demand Natasha to lend you to her for a couple of hours 

Auntie Yelena who made the best hot chocolates for you when you felt down, and who would make the best mac and cheese when you were sad

Auntie Yelena who didn’t hesitate to drop anything and everything when you called her while upset, and who would fly or drive to you in a heartbeat if you needed her

Auntie Yelena who loved that you loved her so much. Ever since you were a baby you always wanted to sit in her lap and play with her, and when you grew up you still wanted to hang out with her whenever you could

Auntie Yelena who scolded Alexei when he made fun of you once, claiming he was fat and mean and had no right insulting you with whatever he insulted you with 

Auntie Yelena who broke your trust only once, and that was when she called Natasha while you were being bullied in school. Natasha had comforted you while Yelena went on a little house visit and nearly made the poor girl piss herself from fear

Auntie Yelena who was the sweetest person you had ever met, yet made people fear her with a simple glare 

Auntie Yelena who, despite your age, took you to build a bear when you turned 16. She helped you pick out a soft, adorable bear and when you got to the dressing bit she had basically forced you to give it a small black widow outfit

Auntie Yelena who always supported whatever hobby you started, making sure you had plenty of supplies in stock. If you ran out of something she would know before you did, making sure you were restocked before you started another project and missed something

Auntie Yelena who, in the end, loved you more than she loved herself

Permanent tags: @marvelnatasha12346 @lesbionion @nova-kyle @darkstar225 @saraaahsstuff @marvelwomenarehot0 @screechcat @iheartjohansson @tia-thesimp @swaqcenix @karmasgxrl @marvel-lous3000 @hor1zond1ar1es @lorsstar1st @superlegend216

[squilfmybeloved]

sometimes family is just an enhanced spider teenager, his aunt, his silly little sister, his eerily talented archer sister, her assassin girlfriend, and the fucking avengers. and thats okay

[midnightlizard]

MCU masterlist

"✧" is for the characters I particularly enjoy writing for

●Wanda Maximoff ✧

●Natasha Romanoff ✧

●Pepper pots

●Kate Bishop ✧

●Carol Denvers

●Yelena Belova (only platonic)

●Peter Parker

●Aunt may

●Shang-chi

●Katy

●Xu Xialing

●Darcy Lewis ✧

General masterlist

[romanoffsbish]

Carved With Love

Natasha Romanoff x Wife!R

Yelena Belova x Fem!R (The true love story 🥹)

Yelena’s in town for the holiday season, and who would she be if not wreaking havoc? | WC: 1,986

Warnings: Mentions of Neglectful Past | Siblings

Yelena was a menace; you knew that from the insight your wife gave you before she introduced you to her.

“Y/N, she literally blew herself up and said it was fun,” your wife had reiterated her stance, that being: Yelena was a complete and total maniac. “Sounds like she’d fit right in with you and your band of superheroes,” was all you’d said back while adding pasta to your cart.

The two of you had been together for nearly a decade when they found each other again, and though the blonde was wary of a meeting she quickly agreed after hearing that the two of you were married with kids.

——

You couldn't really blame her for wanting to meet them more, especially your daughter, the eldest, who shared a name with her. They clicked instantly. Then there were your sons that you carried back to back, Andrei and Aleksander, who were bonded like twins. It was like they gained a triplet with their aunt. Then there’s the latest, Flora, who was just turning six months old and who was absolutely in love with the blonde.

The group were nothing but trouble, you adored that.

When you met her, your heart had doubled in size as you realized she was just trying to forget, to be a kid. Something you knew she never got to be, so just like with your own children, you let her get away with it all.

Natasha didn't much appreciate that, well, truthfully she adored just how much you already loved her sister. But, she was a bit jealous that you were so lenient with her, even if she knew you weren’t with her because she needed the structure and redirection you provided her.

As of right now, she thought you were also insane, "Detka, I don't think you thought this through..." Natasha mumbled against your temple from behind, where she stood with you securely in her arms, and you shook your head and softly chuckled. "It's fine baby."

Natasha currently feared for everyone's safety as her sister held one of those little orange carving knives.

"Oh my gosh, Y/N Romanoff, look!" Yelena shrieked, and your wife sighed when she felt your body relax. There was no hope left, you were at her sister's mercy. Yelena held up a stencil and you smiled. "It's cute."

"No, it is badass!" Yelena corrected, only to be met with a glare from her sister. "Watch your language."

"Natasha," you scolded instantaneously, "Lighten up."

"But she —," Natasha went to defend her decisions but quickly cut herself off when you turned with a glare.

Everyone got away with murder, except Natasha. (Well, in this symbolic context that is…)

Yelena smiled smugly at her sister, she even stuck her tongue out to mock her as you weren't looking. The redhead flipped her off, and your daughter gasped. "Mama! That's the bad finger!" Your eyes widened. "Natasha! What are you now? Some sort of hypocrite?"

"Predateli'," Natasha grumbled, making your daughter laugh alongside her aunt who was taping the ghost cat on a zombie dog's head stencil to her large pumpkin.

(Traitors)

"You all behave," you scolded the entire room before leaving to the kitchen to collect the cookies. Natasha tried to follow you, like a hurt puppy, but you made her stay behind to make sure nobody had a carving crisis. 

Which was in vain because when you came back in the room you found Yelena had upgraded to your sharp carving knife, and you nearly dropped your plate.

"Yelena honey, that's too dangerous," you practically shrieked, but not really to avoid her hand slipping. Not that you didn't have faith in her trained hands, but you knew accidents could happen regardless of skillsets. The blonde pouted up at you, and Natasha watched you once again melt into her little sister's charm.

"I can't use the little orange one," she pleaded for your understanding, "It is too tiny and ineffective."

"Okay," you folded instantly and your wife's eyes widened with flashes of shock and betrayal. The one time Natasha had done the same thing years back, before your kids, you'd given her a safety lesson.

“This isn’t fair,” she grumbled to herself, but she also let it go when she saw you sitting with her sister, eyes focused in on the way she carved the pumpkin and mouth at the ready to give her advice or a light scold.

Natasha let her festering resentments go, and shortly after joined you all at the table so that the youngest member of the house could play with the guts. It was a perfect moment of domesticated bliss, and the redhead couldn’t help but to feel at peace in current company.

Then the following morning came, and you learned a few things. Yelena had a new favorite holiday, and in turn a hobby, carving, which piggybacked right off of her other, bugging her older sister as if it was her job.

"Natasha," you tried to calm her, your hands on her tense shoulder as you kept her from lunging at the blonde. "You need to calm down my love, I can..."

"No!" Natasha cut you off, "She will do it, not you."

"She's our guest," you reminder her, but she merely rolled her eyes—something she never did towards you. "More like a pest, Y/N/N, make her leave before I do."

Your eyes narrowed fast, and your wife cowered at the sheer intensity. "Apologize to her, right now Natalia."

The redhead held back a scoff. Yelena had carved a face only a mother could love into her favorite fall leather jacket, yet she was the one who had to apologize here.

"I'm sorry, parshivets," she begrudgingly spat at the grinning blonde across the room. "I accept, cyka."

(Brat / Bitch)

You sighed, and regretfully turned to face the smug blonde. This was partially your fault too for having let the girl get away with murder up until this point.

"Yelena, now it's your turn." Yelena frowned, but then she nodded and relaxed her features. "Sorry sestra," her tone was genuine, "I will buy you another one."

"No, you don't have to," you let the girl off the hook. "Yes she does." Natasha rebuked your words in a flash, then she intelligently rephrased, "No you don't."

You smirked and rewarded her with a kiss that she tried to melt into, but once again Yelena interrupted with a rumbling stomach. "Can we make pancakes?"

Natasha's hands harshly gripped your hips, and you smiled at her in understanding, she missed you. "How about you go get the kids up while we make breakfast?"

The redhead reluctantly let you go with a nod, but before she got too far you pulled her in for another kiss. "I'll be all yours soon, just have some patience."

Yelena was leaving after the holiday's event, and the kids were going to Wanda's for a spooky sleepover. You'd planned accordingly, and your wife smirked at the reminder, chastely pecked your lips then ran up the stairs with a reinvigorated pep in her once glum step.

"Get the chocolate chips," you instructed your sous chef, and she did so with a smile. Yelena was learning to cook from you, you never outright said it, but you worried about her eating habits. All she could make was mac and cheese and that was artery clogging if not met with a balance of other things besides takeout.

Yelena appreciated your concern, it was clear to her that you were the perfect match for Natasha, because you were an even better platonic match for her. The way you let her just be who she was, who she was discovering herself to be with her newfound freedom, meant the absolute world to her. You were a light that she found comfort in, and would never let go of.

Once you showed Yelena how to make the batter you let her ladle it onto the griddle. "Don't flip it yet," you instructed, your back was turned but you were aware of her piqued curiosity and she was enamored by your spy like skills. "You're like a super mom or something."

"It's nice to see my skillset is appreciated," you teased the younger girl as you returned to her side and gently bumped her hip. "I appreciate all of you, sestra."

It took you a second to reel in your emotions, you'd only been hoping that she wouldn't hate you, but it turned out that she actually liked you, and you didn't want to cry and make her reevaluate that judgement.

Instead you settled on hugging her shoulders, giving her a gentle shake as you showed her the indicators for flipping before finally letting her flip the pancake.

Just as you settled a pancake on the plate you heard an obnoxious scraping on the glass. "What the—." There before you was a focused blonde, the tip of her tongue rested on her lower lip as she carved your perfectly round pancake into a ghost cat. You shook your head with a fond smile, "You really love knives, don't you?" Yelena mirrored your expression and nodded as she now carved an eye into a pumpkin. "They are so cool."

"Natasha loves her guns the same." Yelena flinched, "Guns are too rigid, and loud. Knives are fun, you can do flip tricks with them and they're just as lethal."

You noted her clear discomfort with firearms, and filed it away in your mind as a later topic of discussion, and fortunately the kids came barreling into the kitchen. Yelena dropped the knife and, just like every morning, she greeted the little boys with the tickle monster.

Then came your daughter’s greeting, “Yelena Belova!"

Yelena then followed her lead, “Yelena Romanoff!"

You shook your head at their antics, then you returned to your task at hand, and began to set the table. You placed the blondes masterpieces in their designated spots, a pumpkin for each boy, the cat for her parrot, and the torn to bits pieces went to the toothless baby.

You were gifted two perfectly sized hearts, topped with fruit and whipped cream. Natasha got zero change to the shape, but instead, she was gifted icing words.

“I’m not eating that,” Natasha growled, and you bit back a laugh as you saw the script. “What’s it say?”

Natasha shook her head at you, and glared in her sister’s direction as you attempted to read the Russian out loud, “Tvoya zhena lyubit menya bol'she.”

(Your wife loves me more)

“Damn right,” Yelena teased as she sat in front of her own pancake, “Don’t worry sestra, she loves you too.”

“You two, knock it off and eat your breakfast,” your mom voice came out, and everyone was suddenly sat. You nibbled on your food while making sure your baby didn’t choke on hers as she gobbled it down like a cat (Liho and Bob) being fed at the normal time everyday.

Once breakfast was finished you sent the kids to the living room with their aunt to watch cartoons while you and your wife cleaned up the mess left behind.

As you were packing up the fruit you felt two arms snake around your waist, and a kiss placed on your neck that you instantly melted into. You felt her smirk but ignored her smugness as you lazily cleaned up.

"You're spoiling her," Natasha groaned, you shrugged and turned around to face her with a genuine smile. "I'm just giving her the same chances I did you."

Natasha frowned, "I hope it's not exactly the same."

"That’s disgusting!" Yelena groaned from the couch and you giggled into your wife's shoulder. Avoiding the question in your kids eyes, and leaving Natasha to answer it. The redhead smirked, throwing her sister a wink before she completely pulled you out of the room.

Two could play at this game…

—

[forevertrueblue]

Before the pie Loki and Mobius ordered shows up, Sylvie arrives with one, knowing they would screw it up, so they end up having two to share (even Sylvie ends up having a slice). She also brings a vinyl player and a bunch of Christmas and other records in an attempt to expand Loki's musical tastes.

Tony finds out Peter is off doing superhero stuff and ended up stuck in a pile of snow after the mission - thus making some of his tech malfunction - so he suits up to help him out of it. Peter tells him he didn't get to do enough for May this holiday season because of all that so they - along with Pepper and Morgan - spruce up the apartment for her to be surprised with festive decor and treats when she wakes up.

Steve and Bucky decide to give Sam a taste of Christmas when they grew up so they set up Sarah's home like Bucky's used to be at Christmas, including making the boys sleep on the floor overnight like they had to at Christmas. Sam thinks it's ridiculous but the kids love it, and Sam does come around when Steve dresses as Santa to put the presents under the tree in the middle of the night and Cass gets super excited to spot him.

Merry Christmas and I hope you're not thinking about how all your favourite characters have tragic ends because that's not benefic for the holiday season (or in general).

Have some headcanons instead.

Loki and Mobius attempt to cook pie together but end up burning it, so they order some instead. Loki also messes with the decorations, because they want all of it green while Mobius goes for more color.

Wanda goes ice skating with her boys and Vision, and is the best at it bit pretends she isn't so her boys don't feel bad. She challange herself to prepared everything without magic. It goes very well.

Tony receives an Iron Woman sketch drawn By Morgan that is surprisingly scientifically accurate. He teases Pepper for keeping it secret, but she didn't. It was all Morgan.

Natasha finds herself enjoying her free time and can't believe she is actually doing that. She hopes for Yelena to come see her but doesn't know if she will. She gets a spiced latte instead of her regular black and actually enjoys it instead of consuming caffeine only to keep her awake. This one time, she is well rested.

Yelena actually does come see her, and she didn't buy a gift, but sew a lot of pockets in an old vest and gives it to her. They take a long walk together. She has to constantly slow her sister down because she is used to walking really fast (Yelena is too, but does efforts to enjoy the walk). Little girls smile at Natasha and maybe she isn't that bad after all and shouldn't be judged by her worst mistakes. She likes her vest. She points out Yelena's choice for the shade of lipstick she was wearing.

Oh and if you have more please leave them in the comments <3

[yelenasdiary]

Aunt May's Pumpkin Patch

Pairing: Yelena Belova x Fem! Reader

Summary: You surprise Yelena with her first pumpkin patch adventure. 

Fluff 

Warnings: None | 1.5K

Translations: Detka (baby),

AC: Just a little idea my friend gave me when he said he was excited to go to the pumpkin patch this year! I hope you all enjoy! x

October Special 2024 Masterlist

In the cozy apartment filled with the aroma of waffles and fresh coffee, Yelena smiles softly as she wraps her arms around you from behind, placing a kiss on your left cheek. “All this is already making waking up before 9am worth it” she says softly as you melt in her arms. “Well, I figured if I feed you and caffeinate you, you won’t be so grumpy” you playfully tease as you place the last waffle from the pan to the plate. 

Yelena spins you gently in her arms to face her, “I am good at my job, but I still cannot work out what you have planned” she says, making you chuckle. “Good! Because it’s supposed to be a surprise, now, kiss the chef and have some breakfast” you smiled softly, “we’re on a time schedule” you added. Yelena kissed you softly but deeply, pulling you even closer into her arms while you managed to skilfully turn the stove off without breaking the kiss. 

“Let me take that for you, can’t have you doing all the work” Yelena playfully winked after pulling away and taking the small plate of stacked waffles. 

Sitting across from one another, breakfast adds to the tone for a perfect day, Yelena overloads her waffles with maple syrup like a child at an ice cream store and you comfortably top your plate with your favorite fruit. Yelena pours herself a black coffee and digs into the golden waffles dripping with syrup. 

After breakfast, it would only be 2 hours drive to one of the most popular pumpkin patches in New York. The morning sun filtering through the trees, casting a warm glow over the landscape that Yelena looked over at while you drove. Her favorite Metallica playlist making her foot tap along with the beat, setting a slightly different tone as you drive carefully down the countryside roads. Autum leaves painted the open land in shades of gold, orange, and deep crimson and soon enough Yelena broke, asking you all kinds of questions about where this travel was taking her.

It was only a matter of time before a sign on the side of the road would give-away the surprise. “Aunt May’s pumpkin patch, 200 metres”, Yelena’s eye lit up as she looked over at you, “Please tell me we are turning in 200 metres!!” She said with excitement. You knew how much she loved American Christmases and had no doubt she would love the extra activities that came along with Halloween. 

“Surprise!” You replied with a playful chuckle. 

After parking, the two of you were instantly wrapped in the smell of fresh apples and spiced cider wafting from nearby stalls. In the heart of the patch, you stop to warm the insides of your bodies with hot chocolate before looking over at the paddock of vibrant orange pumpkins scattered across the field, each one a potential canvas for creativity.

Wrapped in cozy sweaters, hand in hand and sipping from the take-away cups, your cheeks flushed from the brisk air as Yelena looks over at you, admiring the sparkle in your eyes before she places a gentle kiss on your cheek, “thank you” she whispers. 

“You’re welcome my love” you give her a smile before taking another sip of your hot coco. Yelena’s eyes scanned over everything she could see in sight, everything from a petting zoo to the pumpkin field to the carnival like games and ending with the small farmers market, she was amazed with just how big Aunt May’s Pumpkin Patch truly was.

“Where would you like to start?” You asked her, seeing the look in her eyes. She smiled as she looked at you, “shall we start with the farmers market?”

“Sure” you returned the smile.

The stalls were full of people selling all kinds of different goods, some hand-made crafts, some home-made sauces and pies and some selling products useful to those who are farmers. As you both strolled through the market, hand in hand, you stopped at a stall selling souvenirs for Aunt May’s pumpkin patch. Yelena couldn’t help but smile softly when you picked up a snow globe of the pumpkin patch, instead of little snowflakes, little autumn leaves danced around inside before landing on the globes floor.

Letting go of your hand, she reached for her phone, “how much are the snow globes?” She asked the saleswoman behind the table. “$15 each or 2 for $25” she smiled kindly. “We’ll take two please” Yelena replied, getting her Apple Pay ready as the woman packed two boxed snow globes into a plastic bag. 

“Lena, you didn’t have to buy them” you said looking up at her as she smiled softly at you. “Ones for us and the other is for Nat” she said. 

She placed the plastic bag around her wrist before taking your warm hand once more. At a nearby stall, you came across home-made candles, candles, their flickering flames promising warmth and comfort for the chilly evenings ahead. You and Yelena spent a few moments smelling each candle on offer before choosing a couple of autumn-scented candles and envisioning cozy nights in together, watching movies and eating mac n cheese. 

After the farmers market, Yelena’s eyes were drawn to the crowd that began to take seats in front of the fenced off part of the pumpkin patch. A large sign advertising pig racing which had Yelena interested in the event. “Okay, I gotta watch this” she said before the two of you walked over and took a seat on one of the benches. 

There were six pigs wearing colorful bandanas that you and Yelena took bets on. “I’m betting on the one with the little pumpkins on it!” You declared, pointing to the light pink pig wearing a black and orange bandana covered with patterned pumpkins. “Oh yeah? You think that pig is gonna win against that one?” Yelena replied, pointing at the pig with a skeleton printed bandana. 

“I know it!” You reply, giving her a playful wink.

As the race begins, your enthusiastic cheers join delighted screams and laughter from the crowd. With every turn and squeal from the pigs, Your and Yelena can’t contain the delight, leaning into each other, your hearts racing alongside the little contestants as they charge toward the finish line. 

The pig wearing the pumpkin patterned bandana speeds ahead, bypassing Yelena’s choice of pig as you jump up, squealing in victory as the little pig crosses the finish line. You embrace Yelena in a playful hug, teasing her that you knew your pig would win. The crowd applauded the activity while children jumped and cheered as they held onto the wooden fence. 

Before you knew it, lunch time was just around the corner and to add to the growing surprises of Aunt May’s Pumpkin Patch, there was a restaurant on site with a café next door. You and Yelena opted for a meal rather than a corn dog from one of the food trucks that were by the entrance.

You and Yelena enjoyed a warm lunch together, Yelena shared her excitement for the next activity. She was set on playing a few of the carnival games before you would take her on the hayride around the pumpkin field to finish off the day before picking out a pumpkin each to carve at home. Her competitive side got the better of her as you both turned each game into a little contest between you both, Yelena winning by one extra game but although she took her win with pride, seeing your smile and hearing your laugh was the best prize she won. 

The sun hangs low in the sky, casting a warm glow over the field of pumpkins as you and Yelena sit comfortably on a haybale, hand in hand on a wooden cart hooked to the back of a tractor. Rustic fairy lights, strung delicately across the railing of the wooden cart twinkle like stars as the tractor rumbles along the field. 

Yelena gently rests her head on your shoulder, enjoying the experience. She’s sure to note that autumn is definitely on her list of favorite seasons. As the tractor pauses near a patch of giant pumpkins, you both hop off, eager to explore as you wander among the pumpkins, discussing which ones might be best to carve later. Wanting to remember this moment for years to come, you snap a photo of Yelena a few steps ahead of you, the sunsetting making for the perfect lighting. 

The day comes to an end with you and Yelena lugging the biggest pumpkins you could find back to the car, placing them in the trunk before Yelena gently wraps her arms around your waist and pulls you into her hold. “Thank you for the perfect day detka” she smiles softly before kissing you deeply and tenderly. You smile against her lips as time seems to stand still as you savor this peaceful moment in her arms, “you made it perfect, my love” you replied in a sweet tone.

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[bishopsbeloved]

the art of falling in love (part five)

natasha romanoff x fem reader

best friend!yelena belova, aroace!yelena belova, internalised homophobia, found family trope, coming of age, angst, fluff (eventual happy ending)

part one | part two | part three | part four | part five (16.3k words) | epilogue

read this fic on ao3!

Death was first explained to you and Yelena when you were six; Yelena’s favourite of her mother’s pigs passed away, and you were both called in from playing outside to be sat down gravely.

“Girls… Wilbur the piggy has, ah, passed away,” Alexi told you. You stared back at him blankly.

“Do you know what that means?” added Melina more gently.

“Uh… Peter from class said his mom and dad passed away,” Yelena offered after a few moments. “And it means that, like, he can’t see them ever again, so he lives with his aunt now.”

“Yes!” said Alexi enthusiastically, before catching himself and adding in a much more solemn tone, “I mean, ah, yes… very sad. Not good.”

Melina looked at him sternly and he fell silent. “You are right, Yelena. When someone passes away, it means they are no longer with us.”

“Like when you go to the store?”

“No. When I go to the store I am always coming back, да? Passing away is permanent, and it means you never see them again.”

“Oh. But I like Wilbur,” said Yelena sadly, and you nodded in agreement.

“That is what makes life all the more precious,” Melina told you gently. “You never know when someone may pass away — only that everybody will, someday. So you must enjoy the time you have with them, my darlings, and never take it for granted.”

As the years went on and the two of you began to understand what death actually means, that first introduction to it became somewhat of a running joke between you and Yelena (because how else can humans deal with such a terrifying concept as death? You can choose to either laugh or cry, and Yelena will always choose to laugh); the idea of someone passing away will often be referred to as going to the store. For example, Alexi is probably the sole man responsible for the entirety of Ohio state’s roadkill — neither you nor Yelena can remember a car journey with him in the wheel during which some unfortunate creature has not stumbled into his path and suffered fatally for that mistake. Every time it happens, without fail, Yelena will turn around eagerly in her seat or poke her head out of the window and assess the damage before gravely announcing, “That one is definitely not coming back from store.”

It’s a euphemism that can be used in any situation — and often is, actually. Whenever the TV signal packs up (as it often does in such a rural town as your own) and the Kardashians begin to cut out awkwardly, Yelena will throw down the remote and shout in frustration “Ma! The fork thingy on the roof has gone store again,” and Melina will know exactly what she means. Or whenever your history teacher Mr Fury hobbles into class, who is so old he looks like he’s witnessed half the events he teaches you, Yelena will nudge you and whisper “he is close to store’s doorstep now, eh?” Et cetera, et cetera. The phrase gets used often.

You feel silly for your mind wandering to those words, given the circumstances. But all you can think of right now is your overwhelming hopes and prayers that Liho has not gone to the store — and that neither has your bond with Yelena. As for Natasha… well, recent times have been a cruel wake-up call.

It’s been a few hours since Melina left with the cat, and the only text you’ve gotten from her since then says cat in surgery now. Yelena has barricaded herself in your shared room — her room now, you think miserably to yourself. You have never, ever seen her so upset, not in your whole life. You don’t think you’ve ever even argued with her, outside of your usual half-hearted play wrestles. But now she’s shouted at you through your thick heavy door, a solid wall between you, putting miles between the two of you but still not enough distance to lessen the brutality of the words she hurls at you from the other side of it. Words you can’t think of for too long or tears will begin to brim in your eyes all over again. Words which you know you deserve, but ones you never thought you’d hear your best friend say to you.

Now you sit uncomfortably stiff on the couch, feeling like a stranger in the home you’ve grown up in, the silence threatening to suffocate you. You feel almost like a prisoner in your body, unable to move as you relieve the last few hours over and over in your head. There’s no doubt in your mind that Yelena is right. You are an awful person. If you weren’t, if you were better, maybe Natasha would still want you, instead of casting you aside once you began to bore her. Maybe if you were better you’d have been sensible or strong enough to not sneak around with her at all. But you’re not, and now you’ve broken apart a family you weren’t even worthy of in the first place.

Natasha is sat in the armchair opposite you, legs curled beneath her, nursing her bloody nose. Her gaze has been fixed on you for the indeterminable amount of time you’ve both been sat here, but you are too exhausted to care. For once, you have much, much bigger problems than her feelings.

Eventually, she speaks, more subdued than usual. “I’m sorry.”

“For what?” Your voice doesn’t sound like yours. It’s somewhere else, someone else’s, far away.

“For…” She hesitates. Like there’s something she doesn’t want to say out loud. “For not, uh. For treating you badly.”

Well, that’s not really what you expected her to say.

Your silence prompts her to flounder further. “I just— I don’t, well, I can’t really explain a lot, but I— I know I messed up. You deserved better. And I’m sorry.”

And you’re so done with her, and so little of yourself is left now that you simply stand up and walk away.

Natasha doesn’t even call after you, just kind of makes this sad and defeated little noise that makes your heart hurt. You know it would just ache even more if you turned around again, though. So you don’t. You walk the hall for a few aimless moments before your feet carry you to the only person currently home who you still have a dependable relationship with — Alexi.

His workshop, as he calls it, is adjoined to the kitchen; a tiny wooden door which he has to bend himself double to fit through, leading to the garage. This has been his space for as long as you can remember. You have no idea how he moves with such ease through it when it’s like a maze to you — huge chunks of greasy half-repaired machinery everywhere, cluttered workbenches and racks of tools and shelves of liquids labelled in his indecipherable Russian scrawl. He often has the tiny tin portable perched on a shelf squeaking out radio shows in his mothertongue which he guffaws merrily at, but as you enter now the room is peacefully quiet, save for Alexi’s disjointed hums of a thousand songs in one and the little chink noises the piece of metal he’s working on makes every time he hits it, slowly bending it into shape.

“Ah, привет! Good evening, daughter,” he says cheerfully, without even turning around as you creep up barefoot behind him. He doesn’t say anything more, and neither do you, for a while; you opt to simply sink down onto one of the wooden stools littered about the place and watch Alexi absently while he works. This doesn’t faze him at all. On the occasions where Yelena was busy without you as a kid, you would do this very thing. Alexi would simply chuckle at you and ruffle your hair with a large bearish hand, oftentimes leaving behind little smudges of black motor oil in it. You’re still in your prom outfit, though, with your hair done up intricately, so tonight he stops himself in time.

“Do you think Liho will be okay?” you ask after a while, in a very small voice.

“Oh, да,” he replies, without hesitation. Even with his back to you as he tinkers busily you can hear the sincerity in his tone. “Yes, yes. Think of what that kitty has been through already, eh? When you found him he was doing worse than that. He is, uh, tough meat. A fighter.”

Seeing Alexi so placid and unshaken in the face of tonight’s events is strangely calming and you nod, soothed by his words, before another thought strikes you. “Oh… but the vet bills.”

Alexi lets out a low but not unkind laugh. “Ah, не будь глупым, you worry so much. We will figure those out. Melina is a sly fox, has money tucked away in hidey-holes, eh?”

“But— I mean —” You twitch uncomfortably, and Alexi seems to finally cotton onto what it is that you’re really worried about. He sets down his tools with his usual gentleness, which never fails to look foreign on such a giant of a man, and turns to look at you.

“You are member of this family,” he tells you. “No matter what Yelena say. She is angry, sure, but it will blow over, eh? You love the silly little fur man, and we do too. So if these bills will help him of course we will pay it. There is no need for worry.”

“But I ruined everything,” you say quietly.

He laughs again. “Nonsense. You have not ruined any of the things, голубка.”

“But… your date night. And— Natasha,” you hiccup.

“We have date nights all the time, подсолнух, there will be others. And Natasha… well, me and your mama are knowing this for long time. Yelena will be coming round also, eventually. We will figure this all out, we are a family. She is your sister. All of the things will be okay. None of them are ruined.”

And you can’t help but cry at that, at his earnest sincerity, his certainty that things will work out — and because you love him, and he is your family. You tell him so through choked sobs, and he just looks at you softly before wrapping you into a petrol-scented bear hug, prom outfit be damned.

Maybe he’s right. Maybe everything will be okay.

Yelena sinks into another episode over the following days. She does nothing much but sit, a vacant look in her eyes, devoid of any feeling, and stare for hours at a time as though seeing something that the rest of you cannot. She has no words left to give, and drifts around on autopilot, only performing basic functional tasks when prompted to — as if they’re an afterthought. Seeing her like this wracks you with guilt in a way none of her episodes have before, because for the first time you know with a crushing certainty that this is because of you. You offer countless times to return to your parents’ house across the road, the residents of which you haven’t conversed with in months, but Alexi and Melina dismiss this as if it’s the silliest idea in the world.

“You are family,” Melina tells you firmly. “Fights happen, да? You stay.”

Even if you’re still welcome in the house you’re certainly not welcome in your usual room. Natasha offers to put you up in hers but drops this very quickly after the look that you give her, so instead a section of the loft is cleared for you. You and Alexi spend a merry Sunday together in his workshop assembling a bedframe for your new space, only to discover once you’ve made it upstairs that it’s actually too large to fit through the attic hatch, so you have to take it to bits to get it up there and then rebuild it all over again. (It doesn’t really matter though, because Alexi is so bemused by the whole thing and his own oversights that it’s impossible to be frustrated at the setback. He just grins so goofily.) When Yelena is in the shower you sneak back into her room to gather as many of your belongings as you can and begin to turn the little space into yours. Melina brings home some fairy lights from the store, you order some posters online and within a week or so you’ve organised yourself a very cozy nest amongst the mess of the loft.

Even now you’ve moved in, over half of the room is still piled high with boxes of various things and piles of junk and the distinct, cloth-draped, dust-gathering shapes of Alexi’s abandoned projects (which he insists on keeping on the basis that he might need them someday, much to Melina’s theatrical chagrin). The various artefacts throughout the room create a kind of ever-changing maze, and you remember playing up here with Yelena when the two of you were kids and it was too cold to play outside — for you, anyway, being someone who’s grown up in a relatively warm American state. To this day Yelena often scorns you for your inability to tolerate any kind of cold, and reminds you of the climates the rest of the family has lived in.

Thinking of her makes your heart involuntarily twinge, and you wince, standing from your perch on the end of your new bed in the vain hopes of shaking it off. As you do so something in the opposite corner of the room catches your eye; the neat pile of scrapbooks Melina worked on for years when you were kids. “I’m going full American mama,” she would quip, spending hours of an evening painstakingly prettying the pages laden with pictures that Alexi had taken throughout the day. You find yourself warmed by these memories, and drift over to the pile of books, settling before it. The newest scrapbooks are naturally at the top, so you shuffle through the pile until you reach the very first scrapbook Mama Melina ever made, which begins the day Yelena came home. You settle down comfortably on the floor, cross-legged like you’re a kid again, and begin to flip through its pages; the very first are adorned with pictures of Melina and Alexi in their youth, and then on their wedding day. After that is the day Yelena came home, absolutely unfazed by this strange new country and its drawling people. Every single photo has the date it was taken written beneath it in perfect cursive, and through the timeline shown you can see that it was barely two weeks into Yelena’s residency here before you and her properly met, and became firm friends. Things progress like that for two years, from when you were five until when you were seven; regular entries are made in the scrapbooks documenting road trips and school plays and lost teeth, all of which you smile upon fondly.

Halfway through the third scrapbook, Natasha comes home. You recognise one of the many pictures documenting this milestone as one that hangs large and framed with pride downstairs above the fire; a stunned, still blue-haired Natalia swathed in thermals, huddled in the corner of Alexi’s rickety old fighter jet on the journey back from the motherland, beaming widely up at whoever’s taking the photo. Despite the fact that you see it every day, seeing it alongside so many others in which she’s so bewildered but so, so happy makes your heart feel so strongly that you have to flip ahead.

You pore over the pages of the main scrapbooks with interest for a while longer, until the main timeline ends and divulges into you, Yelena and Natasha each having your own dedicated scrapbooks. You have no interest in studying your own baby photos, and given all that’s going on reliving Yelena’s would be unbearable right now, so instead you find yourself picking up Natasha’s, and pushing the others aside.

Seeing her grow up before your eyes like this is surreal. In reality you were by her side every day, and most of these changes happen so gradually that you barely even noticed them, but here are immortalised stills from throughout the years which show how she’s grown. When she first came home she hadn’t had her growth spurt yet, and still had her gentle Russian lilt which the rest of her family retains to this day. As she starts attending public school and socialising with her peers you can see that something changes very hastily within her; a light kind of fades from her eyes. The blue is bleached from her hair, and as the red fades back in its place she seems to fade a little too — into the quiet, observant Natasha that you know today. She doesn’t seem unhappy, as such, but… uncertain, and it dredges up a kind of sadness in your chest that forces you to push the book away, lest the tears in your eyes follow through with their threat to overspill.

You’ve always seen Natasha as someone so secure and sure of herself — so much so that she doesn’t feel the need to speak over anyone else in the room in order to get her opinions across. When she does speak it’s usually a quick, cutting remark that earns laughs and leaves everyone eager to hear more out of her. When she walks into a room heads turn to look at her, no matter where she goes. She knows that. She’s someone worth paying attention to. It’s never occurred to you, not once in your life, that her behaviours aren’t the result of something different. But looking at these pictures has stirred up something in you which you can’t quite describe. A deep sadness at the fact that you’ve probably never known her at all, aside from the parts of the real her that have slipped through the cracks; her Russian accent and sleepy kisses first thing in the morning, her goodnight texts, the way she doesn’t need to ask your order at drive-thrus or coffee shops, the notes she’d leave under your pillow. That’s Natasha. Not whoever this is who’s pushed you away. Not this girl who has bleached the childhood from her hair and taught herself how to be from another place.

You pile the scrapbooks back in the neat and tidy order in which you found them and crawl back to your bed, flopping into it, utterly emotionally exhausted by this trip down memory lane. You think it’s dark outside… you’re certainly tired enough to rest now, anyway, and you do; drifting in and out of an uneasy slumber, visited by vague and twisted recollections from your childhood which disappear upon your waking again, before you can grasp them properly, like the sand of your youth slipping through your fingers.

Mama Melina is a woman of science. She’s always considered herself a grounded person. She doesn’t concern herself with what she doesn’t understand, or care for (namely whatever she cannot see for certain with her own two eyes) to the extent that this is the path her career has taken, and is now what feeds her children. She is, objectively, an intellectual woman. Her analytical methods of thinking have led to scientific breakthroughs in her area of expertise, and she is renowned as an expert at her job. She did not reach this point through belief in the spiritual, or abstract. Hell, being raised in an orphanage herself, she didn’t even really believe in true romantic love until Alexi bore his whole earnest heart to her.

One day, when you were young, you came home from school and, with frightening nonchalance, came home and asked if one of your classmates had been correct in saying that people who kissed others of the same gender were hell-headed sinners. Melina abruptly halted her mundane household task and sat you down, taking one of your hands in hers.

“Sin is a fairytale,” she told you, as delicately as she could. “Nobody knows for certain whether sin or God or heaven or hell are real. To believe that is a choice, a leap of faith which certain people make. But all we know for certain is what’s here now, да? Like I am real, you are real,” she cupped your little face between her warm hands and squeezed gently, making you wrinkle your nose and wriggle happily, “Baba and Yelena are real. But sin is thing you choose to believe in. It is made up stories to make us feel better about death but it does not matter, малыш. What matters is what we do now, when we are alive, not what we do to secure a place in an afterlife that might not exist, eh? We are kind to each other now while we live because we know it to be true that we’re alive. To tell someone else who to kiss was wrong and unkind of that boy at school. Worry about the afterlife once you get there, да? If you want to kiss girls, kiss girls. No one who is kind or worth your time will care.”

She kissed the top of your head before standing back up and returning to her cleaning. No more words were exchanged on the prospect, but from that day onward it has appeared to be common knowledge in the household that you like girls, and that Melina is not a fan of religion justifying bigotry.

In all honesty, she is not a fan of anything that’s not an irrefutable truth. Science is her preferred method of explanation for any problem that may occur. But as her relationship with Alexi has blossomed, and then in turn the ones she shares with her daughters too, she’s learned that facts and feelings do not have to be mutually exclusive. Some of the complexities of the human mind are far beyond her understanding, or indeed any of us — and yet this is a truth which ought to be embraced, not feared. The greatest joys in Melina’s life are its mysteries.

And so Mama Melina has never questioned the dynamic you and Natasha share; at least to her, it’s seemed crystal clear since day one that the two of you harbour affections for one another — admittedly for reasons beyond her comprehension, but it’s nonetheless undeniable to anyone who knows you like she does. She’s watched you grow all of your lives, delicately inching closer to one another like two flowers craning their necks to reach the sun. Melina long ago accepted she’ll never in this lifetime know what higher power reigns as a puppeteer over her, or understand the complexities of love, but she knows better than to pretend as if some things in this world aren’t inexplicably and cosmically connected. You and Natasha only prove this point. If she looks hard enough, Melina can see the red thread that runs from your body to her daughter’s.

Alexi, by far the romantic, wholeheartedly agrees with her, which only furthers Melina’s convictions (he would know better than her, she reasons) — although admittedly the events of the last few months have blindsided the both of them. Melina appears to be more concerned by it than her husband, though; so much so that one night she actually sits him down to ask if he even knows what’s going on, and why there’s this big gaping gulf between her daughters, tearing her family apart.

Alexi just guffaws, so full of mirth that Melina is startled. “Ah Боже мой, my love. Do not be silly, I would have to be blind to miss those daggers over dinner, no? No, do not worry, I’m understand. But love is not easy, ah? Its course has never run so smooth. Remember when I first asked out you? You were so… skittish, like little kitten, for weeks,” he recalls with shining eyes. “And look where we ended up now, ah? These are silly babies. They’ll make mistakes. They need the time that you did.”

His words soothe her, in the way that they always do. She relaxes into his comforting embrace with the knowledge that even if she’s the intellectual (and financial) breadwinner in this relationship, Alexi always knows what to say in the face of the heart’s unpredictability. Maybe he is right. Maybe everyone just needs some time.

So, despite her doubts, time is what Melina gives.

Two weeks after that conversation, Liho comes home. His fur is patchy where it’s been shorn off and started to grow back again, and one of his legs is still bound tightly, but he’s back and he’s yours. He leaps happily into your arms when he sees you (despite the yelp of alarm Melina makes) and it’s like he never left. Yelena comes the closest to you that she’s been in weeks to pet his head while he’s curled up against your chest, and she even allows a smile to escape. You can’t help but smile back, like the beginning of spring after a long harsh winter, hope blossoming in your chest once again.

In the time that it’s taken him to come home, other things have happened too. Natasha’s nose, displaced by the punch Yelena successfully laid on her, heals quickly. Your relationship does not. Something unspoken festers between the two of you, hardening and shrinking and blackening into a sickening nothingness. You can’t look at her now without the taste of something bitter filling your mouth — and yet that boiling hot liquid rage still fills your chest when you think of her with someone else. How is it possible to love someone so much but hate them at the same time? You wish, more than anything, that none of this happened. You wish she would just let you love her without having to ruin it for the both of you.

It’s such an indescribably lonely feeling that the two of you are like this now, when only a short time ago the two of you bore open hearts to one another — well, you gave yours to Natasha, anyway. The more you think about it the less of her you have ever known. She’s a stranger to you. Quite a few times since prom night she’s tried to speak to you — offering another half-assed apology, no doubt — but you’ve only ever shut her down. What is there left to say? Nothing that you want to hear, for sure.

(And maybe the things that still hang heavy in the air between you are better left unsaid.)

A few days after Liho comes home you’re laid on your bed in the attic, with your baby boy himself curled comfortably on your chest, purring away merrily as you scratch at his head. There’s some soft music on in the background but neither of you are really doing much. You’re just trying to enjoy his company, (and he’s evidently enjoying yours,) now that you know not to take it for granted.

The scare you’ve had with him has shifted your perspective on a lot, actually — it’s been a rude but much-needed wake up call. Yelena, just like Liho, is your family, and you want to make up with her. Who knows how long either of you have left, or what might happen?

Yes, you absolutely want to be her sister again. You’re just not sure where to even start.

The knock that comes at your door is unexpected, though, and only more unexpected when you see who your mystery visitor actually is. Yelena stands in your doorway, eyes fixed on Liho on your chest. He mews happily when he sees her.

“Кот,” she says hoarsely, holding out her arms and making grabby hands. You blink, stunned for a moment at the fact that she is talking at all, let alone talking to you. This would usually be a good sign, one that she’s coming back into herself, but these naturally are unprecedented circumstances, and you can’t really be certain what anything means anymore.

Yelena steps forward, jerking you out of your trance; you shoot to your feet and kiss Liho on the forehead before holding him out to her with your hands beneath his armpits so that his legs dangle underneath him, rendering him comically long and thin. Lena scoops him up and curls him against her chest; he purrs contentedly and her eyes crinkle in quiet gratitude before she leaves, humming her song to herself.

You almost call out to her, but your body freezes. The door closes behind her you scold yourself for not reaching out, for trying to close this rift between you, but maybe you’ve not given her long enough yet.

What Yelena needs is time, you know. Her whole world has been turned upside down and she has to rebuild it piece by piece. But how much time is enough?

Well, as it turns out, you won’t have to wait much longer.

It’s the last week of school, just over five weeks now since your catastrophic prom night, and you’ve just walked out of your last final. Sam Wilson is waiting for you outside the doors with your favourite flavour of popsicle in his hand, and is already busily consuming his own. When he spots you he waves a broad hand merrily, and you make your way over to him.

“I’m sure you aced it, squirt,” he says before you can even open your mouth, and offers you the popsicle. Unfortunately you’re all too familiar to Ohio’s stifling summer air, making every thought or movement damp and groggy. You accept it gratefully.

Your core friendship group, which you’ve been in for years now, has been pretty turbulent since things went down between you and Yelena. Pairing that with finals and early graduations, you can feel a permanent shift occurring, and it’s frightening. Everyone’s still making  effort to maintain contact with you, but this change on top of everything else has you feeling like you’re drowning when you think too long about it.  It seems like you never know what are the golden days until they’re gone. (You got twelve golden years with Yelena, but is that where it ends? Will she ever tolerate your presence in her life again?)

Someone who you couldn’t be more grateful for throughout all of this is Sam. One day not long after everything happened you came to him crying, and confessed everything. He patted your back with an aura of awkward concern until your sobs subsided, at which point all he had to offer was, “Huh. Well, I guess that explains why prom night went to shit.”

You can’t help but admire the way that he takes everything in his stride. Nothing fazes him. It’s welcome after spending so long around Natasha, who’s constantly on edge, worried someone else might see her with you. Sam is so unbothered, just being in his presence is calming. He’s become a good and valued friend to you.

“That was your last final,” he reminds you, bringing you back to the present moment. “You’re free now for the whole summer.”

“Oh fuck yeah, man,” you say as the realisation dawns on you.

“How’d you want to celebrate?”

You look up at him and a toothy grin takes root on his face as he realises what you’re about to say.

“Arcade,” you say and he nods fervently in agreement. In recent times you’ve become its most loyal patrons; you retreat there often after classes, whether it’s to recuperate from a bad day or celebrate a good one. Today, thankfully, appears to be the latter.

“Arcade,” he repeats happily, and the two of you amble off out of the school gates and down the hill toward the centre of town, where the Boulevard housing the arcade is located. You chat happily for a little while, about your plans for the summer and what you might do together.

“And, uh… any updates on your… anything?” he asks delicately. It’s a vague question but of course you know what he means.

“Not really.” You deflate a little. “I’m not sure Lena wants me around anymore, to be honest.”

“I’m sure she does,” Sam consoles with a startling certainty. “Seriously. What about Natasha?”

You just shake your head. “I don’t want to… I can’t. Not until Lena…”

“Gives you the okay,” he nods understandingly.

“Yeah, I guess. But until she’s sorry, too. She was really mean,” you say quietly.

“Yeah, I get that. It’ll be okay, man.”

You’re not so sure about that, but before you can express this you cross the road and the two of you have reached the arcade, where your troubles are promptly forgotten.

Sam’s words are very quickly proven correct, though — within only a few hours. You arrive home from your arcade trip with some silly winnings tucked under your arm and a smile on your face. It is Friday night, date night for Melina and Alexi, so a car is missing from the driveway and the kitchen is empty as you enter.

Perfect, you think to yourself, and begin to fix yourself some food. These days you’re very careful not to venture into the communal areas of the house unless you’re sure you won’t be treading on anyone else’s toes. You kind of feel like a burden as it is — you’re not a proper part of this family anyway, not in the way that everyone else is — and you don’t want to make anyone uncomfortable in their own home. So you’ve moved bedrooms and now you meticulously strategise what times you’ll make an expedition down to the kitchen. (Sometimes, when you’ve not had a chance to eat yet, you’ll open your bedroom door to a plate of chocolate chip pancakes in front of you. Everyone in the house denies knowledge when asked but you have your suspicions of who’s behind it.)

Sometimes you think about moving back to the place where you were born, but you’re not sure if you could stomach that. That feels like a forever choice. There’s no going back from that.

Liho pads up to you, excited that you’re home and even more excited that you’re making food. Unable to help yourself, you indulge him with some chin scratches and scraps. Life’s too short, you say. Why shouldn’t you make a fuss of your boy?

He winds himself around your legs contentedly while you cook. It is just you and him and school has finished and you have the whole summer to do what you want, and you are cooking, and for the first time in a while you are able to shut off and experience a moment of complete peace.

Naturally, with the trajectory of your life at the minute, this peace does not last long.

“Is Sam Wilson your new best friend?” says a cool voice behind you. You actually yelp in alarm, and very ungracefully fumble with the piping hot utensils you’re using, burning your hand in the process. Liho hisses, and you do too, making a beeline for the sink.

“Don’t sneak up on me like that,” you mutter half-heartedly. Yelena, now moving to stand fully in the light, just makes a noise in the back of her throat as she opens the cupboard above your head and reaches for the first-aid kit. Her face is carefully unbothered.

“I only asked a question,” she says, moving your food off of the heat. Liho claws at your ankles worriedly. You struggle to process Yelena’s words, much less the fact that she is talking to you. Did you blink and miss a chapter?

“Uh,” you rub at the back of your neck with your hand not under running water, “n-no. No, he’s not my new best friend. I don’t,” your voice drops, and you look away, “I don’t think I have one anymore.”

“You do,” she informs you matter-of-factly, hopping up onto the counter beside you and swinging her legs while you continue to bathe your hand. “If you still want one. But she is very mad at you.”

Your voice catches in your throat.

“She does love you,” Lena continues, “but she is wondering why you did things in the way you did.”

There’s a moment of quiet. You gather your thoughts. You weren’t expecting to have this talk tonight.

“I was scared,” you tell her.

“Of what?”

“Of,” you gesture between the two of you, “this. Of making things bad. I always figured it would be like a,” you tilt your head back to keep from crying, because now would be a stupid time to cry, “a stupid schoolgirl crush, you know? She never even spoke to me, I was just her little sister’s dumb best friend, but then things happened and it was so fast and I was so scared. And I wanted to tell you but she… didn’t. She only wanted me when no one else could see. I guess I hoped that she would — come around, eventually, and then I wouldn’t be lying anymore.” You’re heaving with the effort to not cry. “I was wrong.”

“All this time the mystery girl was treating you like shit, you could have told me who it was,” Yelena implores. “I love my sister but she makes me sad also. She can be a dick, absolutely. She’s the worst. Why wouldn’t you tell me?”

“She’s your family,” you choke. “I couldn’t cause a— a rift or a problem like that. And what if you believed her over me? And it kept getting worse, and —”

“Сестра,” she leans over, cupping your damp face between her hands and forcing you to look at her, “I would always believe you. Always. Never before have you given reason to not.”

You nod tearfully, and she lets go. The only noise is the running water for a few moments.

“That is probably long enough under tap,” Lena murmurs, turning it off and taking your injured hand in her lap. Opening the first aid kit, she begins to dress the burn. “I am sorry for making you jump.”

“I am sorry for everything else,” you reply honestly. “I was stupid.”

“Yes,” she agrees bluntly. Then, “Natalia was stupider.” When you look up in open surprise, she rolls her eyes. “Close your mouth, you will catch flies. Of course she was stupid, she has fumbled so hard. You,” she pinches your cheek affectionately, “are a catch. I am not even into all of this, but if I was a dater we would be together and I would treat you like four million times better than she does.”

“You already do,” you say quietly, looking down at your hand in her lap as she continues to bandage it.

“Oh absolutely, I am the best.”

Another, much longer, pause. She finishes wrapping your hand, and pats it three times to notify you that she’s done, the exact same way that Mama Melina does. The action makes your heart swell and eyes fill with unexpected tears.

“Do you know why I was so upset by all of it?” she asks unexpectedly. You blink in surprise. This feels like a trick question.

“Because… I lied?”

“Because you picked Natasha over me,” she tells you.

“No I didn’t— what?”

“Yes, you did,” she says, and she’s a little choked all of a sudden. “All of my life Natasha has been the one who everyone looks at first. She is the special one. You are the only one I had first, who was mine. My близнец. And then I find out that for months you have been lying and picking her over me instead. When she is mean, she is so mean sometimes, yes I love her but she is not much like when we were kids anymore, she is so mean. But everyone likes her more than me. Even you.” She turns away.

“No, no I don’t,” you rush to her side, unable to help it now, scooping her close to you. “No I don’t. I was wrong, and I’m sorry. It was stupid to think she’d ever love me, I shouldn’t have— and I shouldn’t have left you out of it. I think I was trying to protect you? I don’t know. You’re always the one to protect me and punch everyone else, I think I was trying to stop you from getting hurt. And her? But it was dumb. Very dumb.”

“Very, very dumb,” Yelena agrees.

“The dumbest.”

“You have broken world record, кролик.”

You laugh a little tearfully, and while Yelena’s arms are wrapped around you she feels it throughout her body. She revels in the feeling of you holding her and loving her again, after the longest time.

“So we are back from the store?” she asks hopefully after a moment. It takes you a moment to process what she means.

“Oh,” you laugh, “we were never there. You will always be my favourite person, Yelena Belova-Shostakov.”

“Okay.” She exhales in relief. “Good. Just, because — well, you know, we have not spoke in so long and you didn’t think you had a best friend, and—”

“No— what? No,” you frown, “that was me giving you space to process and heal. I wasn’t sure you’d want me back,” you laugh. “I wasn’t ignoring you. I promise.”

“I will always want you back,” she says in a small, content voice. “I will always want you home. With me. Not at store.”

“Not at the store,” you repeat.

And just like that, you have your best friend again.

One familial bond repaired doesn’t mean all of them, though — and Yelena’s relationship with her sister has been patchy recently, to put it mildly. In your eyes it’s a plus that they haven’t outright fistfought in the way that they absolutely would if they were any younger, but Mama Melina doesn’t seem to see things that way.

A few days after you and Yelena make up, the two of you along with your parents are sat around the dinner table. At the very least Melina is able to fuss over her twins again, and Alexi is able to once again boom “here comes trouble” whenever the two of you enter a room together. They both take great pleasure in it,  much to Yelena’s entertainment and your endearment. You love your parents.

The conversation halts when the front door slams, though. Natasha appears in the kitchen doorway for a second before processing the scene in front of her and slowly backing away, back out of sight.

“What is this about?” Alexi calls after her through a mouthful of food. “Come eat, love.”

There is no response, only footsteps on the stairs.

“Our daughters hate each other,” Melina sighs heavily. When you and Yelena look up at her, she clarifies, “no, not you two. You and Natasha.” She pinches Lena’s cheek.

“We do not hate each other,” Yelena says placidly, much to everyone’s surprise. “I am just angry at her. We will be fine.”

Natasha, who is still within earshot at the top of the stairs, feels her heart skip a beat at this and thinks to herself that just maybe Yelena is ready to be receptive to her attempts at reconnection. Her only issue is she has no idea how to facilitate it. She’s done all the things she can think of, aside from straight up cornering her younger sister — she leaves offerings of food at her door and texts  her when the Kardashians are on the TV — but all of it has been treated with nonchalance that’s left her bewildered as to what her next step should be.

Yelena’s got her covered, though.

It’s her turn to strike, she knows, and again she chooses to do it when her sister will least expect it. Nat traipses home late one night, exhausted from cheer practice that overran. (Their next game is the last of the season, and her last cheer match ever considering she’s graduating this summer, so this semester’s team captain Sharon is determined they go out with a bang — even if that bang is a cheerleader toppling from the pyramid out of sheer exhaustion.) She mumbles her greetings and goodnights to Melina and Alexi, who are huddled around a decanter of whiskey in the study with Liho, and stumbles upstairs. All the lights are off up here, and she figures you and Yelena are probably settling down for the night. With a long, wistful look up the spiral staircase towards your firmly closed door, she trudges into her own (pitch-black) room. When she flicks on the light, though, she shrieks in horror. Sat expectantly at the foot of her bed is a long-limbed and blonde-headed figure, with hands folded neatly in its lap.

“Good evening, сестра,” greets the figure, sometimes known as Yelena Belova, with vaguely ominous nonchalance.

Natasha leans back against the door and closes her eyes in a desperate attempt to revert her heart rate to normal. Her first instinct as an older sister is to yell at her to get the fuck out, but in light of recent events this probably wouldn’t be the wisest of choices. Instead, she clamps her mouth tightly shut as she attempts to regain herself.

“I don’t,” she pants after a moment, “I haven’t— what? Hi. What?”

“You should really get a better lock,” Yelena says amusedly. “Very easy to pick.”

“You don’t have to break in,” Natasha grumbles, letting her bag slide to the floor and flopping backwards onto the bed. “Just knock.”

“No fun.” Yelena pokes Nat’s thigh with her toe just like she would when they were kids and for a moment they’re both young again. But she blinks, and the moment is gone, and now they’re two almost-adults with an entire universe between them.

Natasha just groans and flops back to stare up at her ceiling. A few years back you and Yelena helped her paint it blue and now it looks like the sky. It makes her smile when she’s sad sometimes. Yelena joins her, and the two cloudgaze for a moment.

“Why are you in my room?” Natasha asks quietly.

“To annoy you,” Lena quips.

“Success.”

“And to talk,” she continues.

“Also success. We are talking.”

The blonde lunges for her, and Natasha rolls away playfully. “No, I’m serious. Real talking.”

“Alright, I’m all ears.” Nat puts her hands behind her ears and pushes them forward to emphasise her point — again, like they would when they were kids.

“I want to know what you were intending when you started dating Y/N,” Yelena says, and Nat’s stomach drops. She knew this was coming, she knew this was where the conversation would lead, but she was still hoping to stall it for as long as possible just for the joy that her sister is talking to her again. The excitement is short-lived, though.

“We were never dating,” she reminds her quietly.

“Why not?”

The bluntness of the question makes Natasha stop short.

“Because it just, didn’t work out like that, I guess,” she tries. Yelena remains eerily stony.

“It’s not nice to lie to your baby sister, Natalia.”

Natasha deflates. “Because w— because I’m a fucking idiot. I don’t know what you want me to say. I know I messed up.”

“Step one is awareness,” Yelena nods sagely, while Nat grits her teeth. “So what are you going to do about it?”

She shrugs. “Graduate, and leave town, I guess. You and Y/N are twins again now, and I caused all these problems, so once I leave things should be fixed.”

“Untrue and false,” the blonde interrupts sharply. “That is lie. Y/N/N is crushed. This will not magically be fix if you take off for college.”

“But it will help,” Natasha insists.

“No it won’t,” Yelena pinches the bridge of her nose in frustration, “oh my god, how are you so stupid. She is in love with you, and she is so patient with you, she is not even angry. Which I would be, by the way, but she’s not. She’s only sure you don’t want her.”

“Huh? But I do.”

“No, like wanting her,” Yelena says gently. “As a whole. Like… unity, ah? Влюбленный. She feels so not good enough for you, and every day you are prove her right. You take only what you want from her and leave the rest. That is not what love is. She feels not loved by you, and that you only like her for the things she can offer you.”

“Oh. But I didn’t mean to,” Natasha says tearfully. Suddenly she is very small, and she draws her knees up to her chest. “I was only… Lena, маленький, I didn’t know what to do.”

“The answer seems pretty simple,” the blonde observes astutely, “all you had to do was either tell her you love her and want to be with her, or tell her it is over. You can’t keep having things in your way forever. She has feelings too, and the relationship cannot be on just your terms. She is not a doll, or toy.”

“I do,” she says hoarsely. “I do, t- the first one. It’s- I do. But I’m so…” She raises a pale trembling palm to run a hand through her hair, inhaling shakily, and with a blink of surprise Yelena realised how scared her older sister truly is.

“What is so terrifying?” she asks tenderly.

“Y/N is a girl.”

Yelena almost laughs at the confession but is able to refrain, and is proud of her capability to do so upon seeing just how agitated her company is over the subject. “Is this all that holds you back? Nobody would care. Ma and Daddy wouldn’t. This is not end of the world.”

“No, you don’t get it,” says Natasha fiercely. “Ever since I came to America... you were here first, you and Y/N, and you just get to be you. You have who you are. But I don’t know who I am, so I have to — do all the American girl things. I have to fit in. I don’t have a Y/N. And American girls don’t kiss girls.”

Yelena stops to consider this. It’s true that Natasha has always put far, far more effort into fitting in and Westernising herself more than she or their parents ever did. Yelena is perfectly content with her slightly broken English and her raspy accent and her life of in-betweenness. She’s okay with being from two places. To her, when she looks in the mirror, that is Yelena Belova. They’re just parts of who she is. She’s never even stopped to consider those as potential insecurities — not when she had other things and feelings (or lack thereof) to worry about. How could something so unchangeable be a source of doubt? And yet here she now sits, struggling to wrap her head around this invisible binary which has suffocated her sister for so many years.

“But you are not… what?” she says confusedly. “You did have a Y/N. All of this… you’re being someone else. I knew something felt strange. I do not understand why? I like who you are before. It wasn’t bad. I like Natalia.”

This seems to break Nat, who buries her face in her hands. Yelena lets out a motherly cluck of sympathy and scoots closer to loop a gangly arm around her sister.

“I just want to be normal,” breathes Natasha.

“But it is not worth all this,” Yelena says, squeezing her sister tightly to her chest. “What does normal even mean? Being cool is not the most important, Natalia. Everybody liking you doesn’t… fix you not liking yourself.” She cringes at her own words, reminding herself a little too much of Darcy’s Pinterest feed, but the words seem to ring true with Nat, at least.

“I am just so scared,” Nat says in a small voice. “And I think I’ve made this so bad it can’t be fixed.”

Yelena pulls away to look her sternly in the eyes. “Things can always be fixed. Maybe not in ideal way you want them to be, but we can always make amends. But you have to be sorry.”

“I am,” Natasha cries, “I am sorry.”

Yelena holds her. “I know.”

She’s not so sure you know it, though.

Maybe somewhere deep down, you do. You see it in the saddened smiles Nat offers you whenever she steps out of your way or leaves a room so you can use it. You see it in the way she brings your favourite snacks home and leaves them in the pantry without word or question, like she doesn’t even expect you to notice. You see it even in the absence of her; in the way that she gives you space, quietly leaving rooms when you enter them so you can use them despite the fact that you can feel in the air how much she wants to stop and talk to you. Sure, you can tell that she’s sorry. But you’re not sure that she knows what she’s sorry for.

You’re not sure she knows how badly she’s really hurt you, with her every move stabbing into you repeatedly over a course of months. Now that the knife is turned on her and she’s the one in exile, a selfish part of you wants to leave her there, just so she knows what it’s like. You guess that’s kind of what you’re doing now. You know this can’t go on forever though. In a couple of months Natasha leaves for out-of-state college, which she announced over dinner a few nights ago. You had to excuse yourself from the table to process that information. Your time is limited, you know, and it’s clear what Natasha wants (to kiss and make up) — but what do you want? To leave this wound untreated, festering for the next eternity? Or to allow yourself peace and let this go?

“Why do I have to be the bigger person?” you half-heartedly complain to Yelena one night as the two of you wash the dishes. “It’s not fair.”

“Because you are the bigger person,” Yelena laughs. “Natalia has given you the control. The next move is on you. That’s just the way it is, if it’s fair or no.” She whips you playfully with her tea towel, and the conversation moves on without further incident.

The issue plays on your mind long after the words are spoken, though. Whether you like it or not, Yelena is right. The next move’s on you. But how are you meant to make that call? What is the right move to make?

Well, one of Natasha’s friends appears very opinionated on the subject. 

On a particularly warm afternoon, you and Yelena stroll into town, and stop off at May Parker’s ice cream parlour — the best in town.

“Ah,” Yelena grimaces, as you draw close to its glass windows, “it is so busy in there. I go in, you wait out here?” 

You smile at her gratefully, and she disappears inside. 

“Y/L/N!” a voice calls out behind you, and you turn around to see Bucky Barnes making a beeline for you. He’s about twice your size in every way imaginable, and you gulp. 

“Hi?” you say uncertainly. You don’t think you’ve ever spoken to him in your life.

“What’s up with you and Romanov?” Well, he’s straight to the point. 

You flounder, mouth opening and shutting, and he’s gracious enough to continue, “look, I know you and her are a thing. Were. I don’t know, she’s being so weird about it. It’s okay, it’s okay, I was her beard. And she was mine,” he adds, gesturing over at Steve Rogers, who’s stood on the other side of the road waiting patiently for his boyfriend. He smiles and waves amiably on cue. 

You blink. “And no one thought to inform me?” 

He shrugs. “Not my place. I think it is my place, though, to ask what’s got her so torn up. You and her fallen out? I’ve never seen her like this. I’on know what to do.”

He may not mean it menacingly, but he’s towering over you and you’re finding it hard to breathe. “She was an asshole, dude,” you say, perhaps a little more defensively than you envisioned. “She wasn’t nice to me and we weren’t even together, because she didn’t see me like that. So yeah, I guess we fell out.”

He frowns, deeply, and takes a moment to process this. “Oh. That… but she does feel that way about you.”

“It’d be nice if she’d show it,” you say bitterly. 

His face softens. “Maybe… Look, even if the two of you don’t work it out proper, wouldn’t it be easier to at least clear the air? She likes you so much. She just wants you in her life, I think.”

You look at him uncertainly for a moment, but he holds your gaze earnestly. You know him and Natasha are relatively close, and you don’t see why he’d lie about something like this. It’s definitely tempting to believe.

“Okay,” you say, “I’ll bear that in mind.”

He looks like he’s about to say something else, but you feel a hand on your shoulder and instantly recognise Yelena’s presence just behind you. “What is going on?”

“Just talking,” says Bucky smoothly, but it seems apparent that the moment is over. “See you around, kid.” He crosses the road back to Steve.

“Kid,” you mutter, “he’s one grade older than me.” 

“What did he want?” Yelena asks you, and you relay your strange interaction to her. “Oh. Well, he is probably right, but I’m not sure how much it means coming from Natasha’s ex.”

“Were they really together?” you ask, your stomach turning at the thought. Wouldn’t that co-occur with your and her relationship? “He said he was her beard.”

She shrugs. “Not my expertise. Come on, the ice cream will melt.”

You don’t see Bucky Barnes again for the weeks that follow, although you can’t help but wonder what he meant, and what he was trying to achieve. (And a little part inside of you thinks that maybe he could be right.)

“Ma?” says Natasha suddenly. “How did you know you loved Alexi?”

It’s late at night, and the two of them are on the car ride home from Nat’s last cheer game of the season. (At her request it was not a family affair, despite Alexi’s insistence that it was his right to make a fuss of his talented daughter’s performance at her last high school cheer game.) The roads are empty and the towns are sleepy, but Natasha’s question has Melina wide awake.

“Eeh… it was not like a revelation. I did not wake up one day with new clarity. It came to me over time. It took me long time to accept, though. Your father is very patient man.”

“But was there anything specific?” Natasha persists.

Melina purses her lips in thought. “Well, when I met him I was not trusting person. One time when we were in the kind of in between bit right before being proper couple, ah —”

“The talking stage,” Nat supplies helpfully.

“— yes, да. We were in that, nothing proper but something, and he went to touch me and I had a… panic? I shut down. Achh, моя любовь, I was still figuring out who I was and what I did and didn’t like and… still growing up and healing from when I was kid. I was scared.”

Natasha nods solemnly. There are some childhood experiences which, despite unspoken, bind she and her mother at the soul.

“So I freak out, and I expected him to… belittle or leave, or something. But he stays and he is so patient, he apologise for making me jump and fetch me tea, and I thought like wow, he is so gentle. And he is not like the other men I known.”

Again, Natasha nods. Gentle is the perfect descriptor for her father. He’s the most wonderful man she’s ever met.

“So we spent more time together, he was patient with me and always caring. That was the time that I knew I would fall in love with him. But I’m not really know when it happened. Maybe by then it already had, ah? I have only ever had eyes for him. He make me feel… valued, and worthy.”

Natasha just hums in response, for she’s suddenly and embarrassingly on the verge of violent sobbing. She blames Ma and Baba and their beautiful relationship. Nothing else.

“Is this about Y/N?” Melina asks quietly. Natasha opens her mouth to reply and there it is, just as she feared, the waterworks are unleashed. Ma sighs heavily and pulls over.

“Идите сюда,” she says, holding her arms out, and Natasha crawls into them. She rocks her daughter back and forth, exactly how she used to so many years ago when the girl was half this size, while Nat’s face is buried in her mother’s neck. They stay like that for a while, until Natasha’s tears begin to die down.

“Do you want to go and get milkshakes?” Melina breaks the silence. Natasha hums her assent.

The 24-hour diner isn’t far from where they’ve pulled over, and it’s almost empty at this time of night. With no words exchanged Melina orders Natasha’s usual, or what was her usual when she was a kid — a strawberry milkshake and fries. A young Natasha decided strawberry was her favourite as soon as she found out that pink was a girl’s colour. Thinking about that now, especially with the hindsight of her conversation with Yelena, has her stomach turning a little. How long has she been letting her view of the world colour every single choice that she makes? Which parts of her are really her, and which are the ones she’s willed into existence?

It’s a scary line of questioning, and Natasha can feel herself beginning to spiral. No more, she tells herself. Yelena was probably right about needing to get to know herself — and learning her real favourite flavour of milkshake seems a manageable starting point.

“Can I have the caramel one?” she asks Melina gruffly, pointing at the menu. Her mama just nods and alters their order accordingly.

They sit at their usual booth and eat in a comfortable silence, punctuated only by the occasional “pass the ketchup”s. Once they’ve finished, though, and Melina can sense her daughter has calmed enough to leave, she turns and says to her, “Love isn’t easy thing to admit. But it’s… not something to be ashamed of. When it comes, just let it happen. It’s scary, but it does not make you weaker, ah? It will do you no good to push it away.” She hesitates, but then seems satisfied with what she’s said. She turns on her heel and heads back out to the car. Natasha, dumbfounded, follows her.

When they finally make it home, Alexi is snoring away upstairs and you’re on the sofa with Yelena sprawled on top of you, fast asleep. You’re wide awake, though, and look up as the two of them come in.

“Night, ma,” Natasha murmurs to her mother, kissing her cheek before tiptoeing off to bed. Melina hums at the action and pads into the living room toward her twins.

“Hi ma,” you chirp, voice a little husky. “Everything okay?”

Your mama nods, and holds out a brown paper bag. “We stopped at diner. Got your favourite. Some for Lena too.”

Your eyes crinkle up into half-moons as you smile at her in gratitude, and Melina smiles back fondly, her chest filling with warmth. “Thank you.”

She kisses Yelena’s forehead, who does not stir, and then yours, lingering for a moment.

“I love you,” she tells you sincerely, and a fierceness glimmers in her gaze that you’re not quite sure what to do with. “We all do.”

“I love you too,” you tell her honestly. You only hope you’re matching her intensity. She holds your gaze for a moment longer as if searching for something within it,  then nods, seemingly satisfied, and retreats upstairs to join Alexi, leaving you alone with a meal to demolish, a slumbering blonde pinning you to the sofa and many, many thoughts.

A few days after that conversation, you wander into the backyard (Melina’s carefully pruned pride and joy) to pet Liho, who’s basking peacefully in the summer evening sun.

“Careful of the flowerbed,” you warn as he flexes his claws and kicks his legs happily. “Someone will suffer if Ma’s roses are ruined.”

He huffs in what could be agreement, and you toe absently at the sandy dirt you and Yelena used to play in.

A gentle creaking sounds from somewhere nearby. It’s a noise that makes you feel ten years younger, and curiously, you rise to your feet.

At the far end of the backyard, nestled among the pines and pratia, is the swing set Alexi built a little while after Yelena first moved in. It’s a little haggard-looking, as when Natasha came to America Alexi bodged a third swing so all of you could play together, but to his credit it’s still held up all these years. Sure, it doesn’t get so much use anymore, but sometimes when one of you is feeling a little down you’ll revisit the simpler times of your childhood.

This seems to be what you’ve stumbled upon Natasha doing now. She’s sat on the middle swing (which in times gone by was your swing, as the middle spot often was when you were a kid, so both siblings got to be next to you), rocking back and forth gently as she cradles something small in her hands, turning it over. She’s lost in thought. Wondering if you’ve intruded on something private, you begin to slowly pace away. When you catch sight of what it is in her hands, though, your stomach turns; a small and glistening pink rock, rubbed smooth by years of love.

“You kept that?” you ask quietly. Natasha’s head shoots up and she takes note of your appearance in the same way that a deer takes note of rapidly approaching headlights. Her mouth opens as she fumbles for words, but she just settles for nodding vigorously before lowering her gaze to her lap again.

You don’t really know what to think, or do. You hesitate for a moment, and find yourself thinking of Bucky’s advice — wouldn’t it be easier to clear the air? This tension is suffocating. With this on your mind, you seem to surprise Natasha as much as yourself when your feet march you over to the swing on your left, and your knees bend to seat you. Her entire body tenses as yours nears her. You can tell that, since you’ve gone to great lengths to escape her company recently, this is the last thing she expected. (In all honesty you weren’t really expecting this either. What now?)

“You know that I’m in love with you, right?” Natasha says suddenly, and you freeze. Your chest tightens, and it’s like she’s wrapped herself around it, claiming your breath as her own.

“That’s not funny,” you reply in a small voice. “Don’t— don’t do that.”

“Do what?”

“Play with me like that.”

Her stomach lurches. “I’m being serious.”

You’re quiet for a moment. “Were you and Bucky ever actually together?”

“What?”

“Bucky Barnes. Were you with him when you were with me, too?” 

“N- no,” she says with vehement certainty. “I was — well, I guess it doesn’t really matter now, but when him and Steve were a secret I was his cover story. And I guess he was mine, so that I could… yeah.” She gestures towards you, pressing her lips together. 

“But even after they came out I was still a secret.”

“I—” Natasha says, and buries her face in her hands for a moment, because this is not how she hoped this would go. “Yes. And that was wrong of me. I’m sorry. I think I was trying to protect you, and me, and you from me because I know how messy I can be, and I wanted you so bad but I didn’t want to drag you down with me. And I still did anyway.” She sighs heavily.

“That’s an interesting way of showing affection,” you quip. 

“I know,” she says quietly. “And I’m sorry. I know I haven’t shown it well — at all — and I don’t really blame you for not believing me. Or, uh, hating me.”

“I don’t hate you,” you say softly.

Her shoulders sag. “Oh. W— well that’s good, then.”

“But I wish I did,” you add.

“No, yeah. That’s fair.”

“You’re really mean.”

Natasha just nods.

“And it’s even worse because I can’t even hate you because you can also be really nice.”

She nods again uncertainly. She’s not really sure how to respond to that.

“Why?”

“What?”

“Why are you so mean sometimes?”

This makes her stop up short. The way that both you and Yelena never fail to cut to the chase or ask the questions that nobody else would will always catch her off guard. “It’s kind of just who I am,” she begins, but at the way your face scrunches she adds, “or who I’ve decided to be, anyway. I don’t really know. I’m not sure… who I am.” Even uttering the statement aloud is a weight lifted from her shoulders. “It’s scary. I guess I… I thought that, like, I have to be the mean one, or someone else will first. To me. You know?”

“Why would anyone be mean to you?”

“Because I like girls,” she says truthfully, and there’s a tremor to her voice.. “And I’m not from here.”

You stare at her. “…? I like girls, and Yelena isn’t from here. No one is mean to us for it.”

“Because Yelena can and will beat the shit out of anyone that tries something,” Nat snorts. “But I just… I don’t know. It’s different for me.” You nod encouragingly and she adds with reluctance, “I don’t— belong here, not really. Or anywhere. I’m too American to be Russian and too Russian to be American. Ma and Baba and Yelena have it figured out, they’re just both and themselves and they don’t even have to think about it. But that’s not so easy for me.”

“Maybe,” you say carefully, “it’s to do with the people you choose to surround yourselves with. Is it possible that you’re… spending time with the wrong people? If you’re made to feel as though these things make you lesser.”

She shrugs. “Probably. But that doesn’t change the fact that I just… I really don’t have a lot going for me. So I kinda pretend that I do, and then it gets out of hand and I’ve convinced myself that I’m a lot more interesting than I am, to the point that I don’t know who me is. And I get all freaked out. And I’m so scared I kind of just shut off and try not to think, so I guess I’m just an asshole instead. Like it’s a reflex, you know? But it’s not really me. Nothing is me. My entire life is one perpetual identity crisis.” She drops her gaze to toe at the ground.

Your swing comes to a still as you clasp one of her hands between both of yours. They’re warm and perfectly manicured, and her eyes light up at the contact. “You don’t have to know who you are. You just have to exist, and you find out. I’m learning things about myself all the time, and so is Lena. This was my first relationship —” Nat’s stomach drops at the use of the word was “— and I’ve learnt a lot about myself and how I like to be treated. And Lena only came to terms with being aroace this year. Even Ma only just decided she’s demi,” you point out, and Nat can’t help but smile at this. (A little while ago, after Yelena first came out, you and Melina began joining her in attending weekly meetings at the local youth centre for young queer people and their parents. Your mama was determined to be a more educated advocate for her three queer daughters. Very recently, with all this new terminology at her disposal, she dropped into a dinnertime conversation in the presence of the whole family that she thinks she’s demi. “Not that it matters,” she added, “the only one for me is your father,” and she kissed his beaming crinkly cheek with a motherly tenderness. It was a beautiful moment to witness, despite Yelena’s playful booing.)

“I guess,” she says quietly. “Um, I’ve been talking to someone. Professional,” she adds at the look on your face. “Yelena said some stuff that made me realise I probably shouldn’t sort through this alone.”

“Yes, you shouldn’t,” you nod. Natasha raises an eyebrow at your ready agreement. “It’s not something to be ashamed of. Lena sees someone. I do too.”

She blinks. “Really?”

“Yes,” you laugh, “Baba takes me every other Thursday. I have horrible abandonment issues. I guess after everything that’s happened, I’ve kinda internalised some stuff.”

“I definitely took advantage of that,” Nat says guiltily. “I’m sorry. Honestly, I am.”

You look at her. “I know.” Your hand squeezes hers before letting go and she instantly aches to feel it again. “I’m sorry, too. For not… I don’t know, setting more boundaries. Or being more forceful.”

“No, no, it wasn’t your fault.”

You hum, and the two of you sit in silence for a long while as the sun begins to retire.

“You know,” you say suddenly, “you don’t have to move across the country. You can if you want, obviously, it’s your call, but if it’s just because of me… you don’t have to.”

“But-? I’m trying to give you space? To heal,” she says confusedly, and you laugh.

“And it’s very sweet, but I don’t need that much space. I’ve already forgiven you.”

Natasha’s soul leaves her body. “You— huh?”

“I have,” you laugh kindly. “I did some of my own thinking, and I just… I don’t know. I don’t think you need me being mad at you, on top of everything else going on in here.” You tap at her temple gently to emphasise your point, and she shivers. “And I don’t think I need that either. I don’t want to carry that with me.”

“Okay,” Natasha breathes. “T— thank you.”

You wrinkle your nose at her affectionately. “You’re silly.”

She’s awash with the overwhelming need to kiss you, and instead twitches a little, digging her nails into her palm. You take in the movement with such wide-eyed concern that she has to close her eyes for a moment, because she’s almost ill with how much she feels for you. This feeling only grows more intense as you continue.

“I know we’re… whatever we are, but… if there’s anything I can do for you, let me know,” you say more quietly. “I know you’ve been through some stuff, and even when you’re seeing someone for it it can get overwhelming. I do care about you.”

She nods, and swallows thickly. “ I don’t— I— uhm. What does this make us?”

You can hear her hopes heavy on her tongue, and your heart is like lead. “Friends?” you offer. “I— I don’t think we should be anything else, right now.”

Natasha nods, and swallows thickly. With it she swallows back the words but I love you. It must be written across her face, though, because you cup it between your hands (which really isn’t helping her self-restraint at all).

“I love you,” you tell her honestly. “And I always have. But love isn’t… you don’t… I don’t know. That kind of love is something that you earn, I think. And we both need to take care of ourselves.”

“I understand.” Natasha’s voice is hoarse, and barely above a whisper. “And I want you to feel like I respect your decision. But I also want you to feel like I’m serious. About you. And I will prove it if I have to.”

Against your own better judgement, you smile at her.

One thing about Natasha Romanoff is that she’s not a quitter.

Some would say it’s an endearing quality. More would probably tell her it’s the reason she finds herself in so many messes in the first place. What’s objectively certain is that she’s a stubborn little shit — and and with this determination she’s decided she’s going to win you back. Your slight encouragement, no matter how vague, is enough fuel for a fire that could simmer for months.

It starts as chocolates, and flowers. At this point she seems to have cottoned onto the fact that you’re not one for big, theatrical confessions of love, but rather consistent affirmations of it. Actions, not words, she’s heard you say (although now more than ever before she’s seeing for herself what you mean). So there’s no four-act sonnet recitals when you receive her gifts — although you don’t really receive them at all, in the traditional sense. Rather they seem to begin popping up everywhere you go. At one point you open your locker to a bouquet so over-endowed that flowers begin to tumble out onto the floor. Sam steps neatly to the side and watches with glee as you scramble to clean the mess. (He’s most definitely enjoying watching all of this play out.)

Your favourite of all these surprise gifts is probably one delivered by your own four-legged Cupid himself. Liho headbutts the door to your room open and stalks in with a scowl on his face and something attached to his collar. As soon as you remove it to inspect it he rolls onto his back and looks up at you expectantly, clearly expecting compensation for this favour.

“Yes, you’re a very handsome boy,” you tell him distractedly, using one hand to rub his belly while you attempt to unfurl the note he’s delivered with the other. Yelena lets out a noise of amusement. She’s perched on your bed with the Kardashians paused on her laptop in favour of watching this play out instead.

“You are so ungraceful,” she comments mildly, making no move to help you.

“I love how you always see the best in me,” you reply through gritted teeth.

After a moment, you manage to succeed in your task. I picked these for you :), the letter reads. You glance over at Liho’s collar again to see a tiny bunch of forget-me-nots, only slightly battered from their journey and bound neatly by brown twine.

“Another gift from the mystery girl?” Yelena teases, and you groan.

“Okay, saying mystery girl is officially banned. It’s giving me war flashbacks.”

“And that is fair,” your sister muses, getting to her feet to inspect your latest delivery. After she’s done she sits back on her heels. “You don’t have to keep turning her down, you know.”

“What do you mean?”

“Well, if it’s just because of me. You have my… blessing, or whatever. But on the condition that you’re not gross about it.” She rolls her eyes, and nudges your cheek with her nose. You squirm good-naturedly.

“Why thank you, your Grace.”

“Yes, I’m the graceful one,” she preens.

“Sure,” you snort, and she smirks. “Um, thank you, though. That’s good to know. I guess I’m still… figuring it out, but she’s growing on me again.” And it’s true. You have your reservations now, but she’s trying to remind you why you first fell for her (and yeah, she might be succeeding). Part of you wonders if she’s turning on the superficiality again, but after she spilled her guts to you on the swing set you’re trying to have faith that she really is turning a new leaf, and charming you authentically.

Yelena considers this. “Yes, okay. This makes sense. Remember to tell me if she tries anything again though. I will put them up.” She raises her fists and you giggle, but you know she’s at least partially serious. She’s very athletic in her own right and people at school go out of their way to avoid crossing her. That’s how you’ve stayed out of trouble your whole life — by standing behind Yelena and letting her handle it instead. Where you hesitate, she dives right in. You adore that about her, though.

“Do you know what you’ll do once she’s out of state?” Lena asks, and you shrug.

“Figure it out as we go, I guess. I don’t know if she’ll lose interest in me.”

The blonde looks up fiercely. “If she does that I will stick them up.”

You beam at her, admittedly less for the violence and more for the sentiment behind it. She beams back for reasons more ambiguous.

“Do you know what we will do?” Yelena queries. Upon your frown she elaborates, “next year when it is our turn to pick college. You and me, what will we do?”

“Pick the same one, and both get in because we’re super smart, and we’ll be roommates. And you can make us mac and cheese every night,” you say, as if it’s the most obvious thing in the world.

She contemplates this.

“Okay,” she says, seemingly satisfied with your answer. “Can we hit play now? I want to know what’s happen to Kim’s diamond earring.”

“Two cookies say she gets it back.”

“Two cookies say eat my ass the way a fish ate her earring,” she retorts, and the two of you settle on the bed again. (You have two more cookies than usual after dinner.)

Despite the witticism you take Yelena’s blessing with pride, and it means a lot more to you than you let on. Now that every single member of your family has shown their support for your relationship you can’t help but feel a slight ray of hope, the likes of which you thought had been stomped out long ago. Never before have you dared to imagine a situation where you could actually have a shot with the girl of your dreams, who you’ve wanted for as long as you can remember — and yet here you are, with her putting her back out working overtime to win you over, and your family watching with interest. Every morning you wake up a little warmer to the idea of letting this happen.

That doesn’t mean Natasha’s out of the woods yet, though, and you’re careful to make this clear to her. She senses your hesitance, and completely understands its presence. She’ll wait for you as long as it takes. (She’s genuinely stunned at how forgiving you have been of her, in all honesty.) In fact she takes your reluctances in her stride in a way that actually has you feeling more for her — but again, you know better than to repeat your mistakes of the past, and so you take this as slowly as you can considering she’s coming on strong and you live under the same roof.

Three months of summer lie ahead of you, stretching out like an endless expanse of sunset-tinted possibility. You and Yelena manage to land jobs at the video store in town — Yelena goes blazing into the interview and makes it clear as she can that the two of you are a package deal. Wong, the guy who runs the place, just seems grateful for the help.

The store becomes somewhat of a hangout spot for the two of you, who work the same hours and are joined at the hip like always, and it’s a safe bet to stop by if anyone wants to find you. Sam often swings by to playfully irritate the both of you, since the marina where his parents’ boat is docked is just round the corner, and Natasha will meet you when you’re closing to take you out for dinner after. (Sometimes Yelena tags along to these meals, and gleefully revels in the awkwardness her presence causes.) Since you and Yelena are twins again too, things are looking up for your friendship group and they’ve taken to visiting also. You’re delighted to spend time with them again. (Seeing Makkari’s face light up when she steps into the Deaf & Subtitled section of the store makes your whole week.)

In fact, word seems to have gotten out about the fact that Wong’s employed you, because one sleepy Tuesday afternoon Bucky Barnes drops by to rent a DVD. He picks one at random, not even glancing at the cover, and as you scan it through for him he says to you lowly, “thank you for making Natasha happy again. She cares so much about you.” He offers you a genuine smile before heading out abruptly and almost forgetting his DVD in the process. (You suspect his purchase was a mere means to talk to you.) It’s a strange interaction, but decidedly more pleasant than your last with him, so you take it no further.

Another perk of having this job is that you have your own money now. You’re not really sure what to do with it at first; the only thing that occurs to you is that you want to get a gift for Natasha. At the end of the summer is her graduation — she’ll walk and wear the square hat and everything, and you’re very excited to embarrass her with photos of the event — and after that she’ll leave for college. Her graduation is the perfect time to present her with said gift, you decide.

You know you want the gift to be meaningful, but you’re not really sure of the specifics. Luckily for you, one night on the roof with Natasha is all you need for the inspiration to strike.

Can’t sleep, you text her one night, after hours of fruitless tossing and turning.

She replies immediately.

Me neither

Come down to my room :)

If you want to!!! she adds after a moment, and you can’t help but smile to yourself. She is adorable.

Omw, you tell her, rolling out of bed.

The door is unlocked!!!!!! just come in

You follow her instructions and slip inside. The room is cosily lit, with her fairy lights on and her little lamp shaped like Calcifer flickering merrily; the bed is unmade, as if someone’s been in it recently, but Natasha herself is nowhere to be seen.

“Nat?” you call out uncertainly, and squeak in surprise when her head pops through the window. She smiles softly at your reaction.

“I’m out here,” she tells you. “C’mon, there’s space for both of us.” She wriggles along her perch on the flat row of tiles of the roof, and pats the empty spot beside her. Antics like this don’t faze you after twelve years of friendship with Yelena. You clamber out beside her readily.

“Hi,” says Natasha a little bashfully, once you’re settled. You lean up to peck her lips and she flushes. “Y— yeah. Um, hi.”

“Hi,” you reply sweetly. “It’s nice out here.”

“It is,” she agrees, her gaze not straying from you. You take no notice, though; your sights are set to the heavens. No matter how much you snipe about how annoying it is to live in a small town, the views still take your breath away. The stars shimmer bright above you, as they do almost every night. They’re not the only beautiful sight your town has to offer; Wanda adores the rocky hills at the edge of town, where many scavengers like squirrels and raccoons have made their home (one boy in your grade, Peter Quill, has befriended one of the raccoons and affectionately named him ‘Rocket’. He visits Rocket every day after lunch with his leftovers from the cafeteria). Occasionally she’s able to convince everyone in your group to accompany her hiking there. Despite your grumbling, it does make for an enjoyable day out.

“I come out here when I can’t sleep,” she tells you quietly.

“I sit on the roof sometimes,” you reply, and you beam at each other. It’s true — you do, but sharing the information feels vulnerable. You’ve figured out how to hoist yourself up through the skylight in the loft and onto the utmost point of the house, but it’s an activity you’ve kept as your own for now. While you adore more than anything being twins with Yelena, and living your life with her, you’re also learning how to exist by yourself for the first time in your life, and enjoying having your own space. Your little corner in the attic has afforded you many freedoms, and not just material ones.

“You see the moon?” Nat asks. The planet in question hangs round and heavy over the horizon, not quite full.

“How could I miss her?” She’s the most beautiful thing in sight.

“You know the difference between waxing and waning?” Natasha prompts, and you shake your head, solely because you love when she talks about her passions. “Waxing is when the moon transitions from a new moon to a full moon — so she fills out. See, that’s what she’s doing now.”

“She’s nearly full,” you remark quietly.

“Yup.” She grins. “Now when she’s waxing, she fills in from the right side — so she kinda looks like a C.” She makes a C shape with her left hand and holds it up against the sky to confirm that, yes, while the moon is waxing it vaguely resembles the letter. “But soon she’ll start to wane — maybe next week? After the full moon. Waning is the transition from the full moon back to the new moon, so she shrinks away into nothing. She’s eaten away from the left side, so she looks like a reverse C.” Nat makes a C shape with her right hand this time, so that it’s reversed, and holds it up to compare to the moon. They don’t match up right now, but they’ll get there someday.

“This is my favourite period though,” she confesses, her voice dropping a little lower, “of the lunar cycle. When the moon is waxing.”

“Why?”

“Because it feels,” she hesitates. “I don’t know. It feels like gross to say out loud but it kinda just feels like, encouraging. Things are always changing. They won’t be like this forever, you know? The cycle keeps on repeating itself.”

“The cycle keeps on repeating itself,” you repeat, and she smiles at you.

“Yeah. You don’t think it’s… dumb? I don’t know, I’ve never brought anyone else up here. I —”

“I don’t think that at all,” you tell her, and she kisses you gently.

The next day you go out and buy a crescent moon necklace.

Natasha has been coming into your room more and more often lately, and you don’t trust yourself to not leave it lying around in plain sight, so one day while she’s out you enlist Alexi’s help to loosen one of the floorboards in the attic so you can stash things under it inconspicuously.

“It’s not for anything suspicious,” you tell him quickly, “you can look under it whenever you want. It’s just to hide gifts and —”

“Relax, sunflower,” he chuckles, “you are entitled to your secrets.”

The necklace stays hidden there until summer draws to a close.

The weeks fly by in a golden haze and before you know it, you’re getting ready for Natasha’s graduation.

Alexi is stood on the landing in his smartest suit, and flexing proudly in the mirror on the wall. “It still fits!” he booms triumphantly.

“Don’t forget to wear your nice shirt, любовь,” Melina calls up the stairs to him. “No one with holes in.” He deflates a little, and retreats back into their bedroom to change.

“He looks fine,” Yelena scolds half-heartedly as she lumbers down the stairs, holding out her wrists to Melina. “Can you do my cufflinks?”

“Where’s your please?” Melina retorts, but she sets her clutch down so she can use both hands to help her daughter.

“We have to leave in ten minutes,” Natasha announces as she bursts from her own room. “Семья, I know what you are like, and we cannot be late.”

“Relax, love.” Alexi reemerges from the bedroom in a different shirt this time. “I will go and start the car,” he starts down the stairs, “and— oh.” He pauses as several buttons pop off his shirt simultaneously. “Ебать.” He turns around and subduedly makes his way back up the stairs.

“Baba,” Natasha groans. “This is what I mean.”

“Hey! I am nearly ready,” says Yelena indignantly, nodding at her mother in thanks for doing her cufflinks before ducking in front of the mirror. “Oh shit, where is my tie?”

“Language,” reprimands Melina.

“See?” Natasha sighs exasperatedly. “Y/N/N is the only one who’s ready.” She hurries down the stairs to where you’re stood in the hall, watching the scene unfold serenely. You’ve been ready to leave for the last ten minutes. She beams at you and pecks you on the cheek just shy of your lips. You flush, and the crescent moon necklace burns a hole in your pocket. Now isn’t the time, though.

Eventually, you all make it into the car, with everyone now sporting correctly-fitting outfits. As always on car journeys, you’re in the back, sandwiched in the middle between Natasha and Yelena. Lena scrolls through her phone disinterestedly, headphones in, while Natasha vibrates on your other side with anticipation and nerves. You take one of her hands between both of yours and she stills instantly.

“I am very proud of you,” you say quietly, “to have made it this far, with these grades. You’ve gotten into your dream college. You can do anything. Today will go fine.”

She doesn’t speak for fear of bawling and potentially ruining her eyeliner, so instead she rests her head on your shoulder in silent gratitude. She doesn’t move until you arrive, at which point she shows you all to your seats (front row, you note) and disappears to the backstage meeting point for all of the graduates.

The actual ceremony doesn’t begin for a while, so Melina converses with the other parents seated around her while Alexi nods politely, and you and Yelena compete in a thumb war. Eventually Principal Rambeau steps onto the stage and a silence settles on the gathered audience.

“Thank you all for attending,” she begins. “We’re here to celebrate our wonderful seniors, who have put in so much work to make it here today, and walk this stage.” She continues like that for a short while before they begin to call the students’ names, and they each walk across the stage in turn to claim their diploma. Natasha is a little later on the register, so you just sit back and enjoy the show — you’ve lived in this small town all your life, where most people know of each other, and so you recognise or even know the vast majority of the people who make their way across the stage. Some of them choose to make a memorable exit from their high school career (like Happy Hogan who chooses to breakdance his way across the stage, or Ned Leeds who walks proudly in a hot dog suit), whereas others take the more graceful route (see Valkyrie King, a prominent athlete of the school, who walks with confidence and regally basks in everyone’s recognition of her). When Natasha Romanova-Shostakov is called, she walks the stage a little bashfully, and with a blush accepts the cheers showered upon her after several years of being the cheer team’s star. You clap and shout louder than anyone else, and to Yelena’s glee capture several shots of her in her square graduate cap. Front row seat privilege. 

After the presentations, the students flood into the crowd and people break off into little groups. The air hums with the joy of people laughing and congratulating and embracing one another. Natasha makes her way over to you and Yelena, who are stood now with your parents beside the refreshments. She brightens when she spots you, and is instantly by your side, pressing a kiss to your cheek.

“There is my girl!” Melina cheers. An outbreak of hugging ensues.

You mingle politely for a while with the other families milling around your own. Natasha appears intermittently, being the centre of attention today. Yelena is by your side (with her arm annoyingly resting on your shoulder to remind you that she’s taller) until one of her hockey friends pilfers her to show her something. In the few moments that you’re unaccompanied, Natasha resurfaces from the crowd, takes your arm and leads you somewhere a little quieter, and a little less visible to the masses.

“I just, um,” she realises she’s still holding your arm and lets go of it with a blush, “I wanted to thank you for being here. Like actually. It means a lot to me. I know— I know that in a couple of weeks I won’t be here properly, and it might make things weird, but —”

Now is the perfect time, you decide. As she continues to nervously ramble you pull the crescent moon necklace in its little velvet box from your pocket, and present it to her. She falls silent and looks at you.

“It’s for you,” you say unnecessarily, opening it to show her the treasure inside. Her eyes widen. “I— I want to do this with you. I want to give us a try. I like being with you.”

And as you clasp the delicate chain around her neck, and lean up to press a chaste kiss to her lips, Natasha understands. Love is something you earn.

She entwines your hand with hers, and together the two of you make your way back towards your family.

[nataliasquote]

Masterlist

Welcome to my masterlist! Alongside my work on Wattpad and AO3, you can find all my mini series and oneshots linked down below. I usually only write for Natasha Romanoff and occasionally Yelena Belova, but feel free to send in any requests. But no smut, I’m not comfortable with that :)

Natasha Romanoff | Series

[F = fluff, A = angst, H = hot af ]

⧗ Double the Trouble AU | WandaNat x daughter: [F] Natasha and Wanda have their work cut out raising twin girls. But despite the struggles and the arguments, there is nothing that would break the bond this family has created

part 1 | part 2 | part 3 | part 4 | part 5

Canon oneshots:

A Day Out: [F] summer and sunshine calls for family trips out. To the zoo, naturally[2.9k words]

Groceries: [F] Natasha volunteers to do the weekly shop. Mundane, perhaps, but with two babies, things are never smooth sailing [1.4k words]

Cuddles: [F] a tipsy Y/n only wants one thing when she comes home from a party- Natasha’s hugs. And who is Natasha to refuse cuddles from her teenagers? [800 words]

New Families: [F] Natasha was content keeping her little family to herself. But Yelena and Melina weren’t. Which is how the family of four find themselves in Ohio, resurfacing memories for Natasha and challenging the three year olds in a whole new environment. Isla loves it, Y/n… not so much [4.4k words]

Yelena’s Day: [F] it’s finally Yelena’s turn to babysit the twins… a big responsibility for a usually messy Russian. [4.3k words]

Switch Up: [F] Yelena is back, the twins are older, and her scheming ways do nothing but backfire. a mother always knows… [3.3k words]

⧗ My Songbird AU | Natasha x Willow (O!C): It’s the 70s. Final summer of high school. Why not spend it getting high, partying and sneaking off with your girlfriend in a town that is so disapproving of anything deviating from the norm.

Mood board | part 1 [F]

⧗ Back in Time | Winterwidow x daughter: Natasha and Bucky’s daughter seeks comfort in her Aunt Wanda as her parents go missing on a mission. She doesn’t ask for much, she only wants to see them again.

part 1 [F] | part 2 [A]

⧗ Midas Touch | Maid!Natasha: no amount of money will ever save a broken marriage or a broken woman. But maybe the right person can turn everything she touches into gold and this time won’t be cursed to break everything she cares about.

part 1 [F + A] | part 2 [F + A]

Natasha Romanoff | Oneshots

⧗ Promises: [A] Natasha and Anastasia didn’t know love… not until they found it in each other. But the Red Room was cold, in more ways than one [2.6k words]

⧗ Ghost of You: [F + A] Learning to move on after Natasha’s sacrifice is the hardest thing in the world [3.2k words]

⧗ Lost in the Fire | f1 AU: [A] A horrific crash tests Natasha’s nerves to the limit as she has no choice but to sit back and watch from the garage. Her girlfriend and her sister push themselves for that all important win. [4.5k words]

⧗ I Will Rescue You | natasha romanoff x adopted daughter reader: [F + A] An alert from the Red Room sends Natasha, Yelena and Bucky on a last minute mission. But what they find is far from expected… [3.7k words]

⧗ Can’t You See This is Breaking Me: [A] Natasha isn’t quite ready to give her entire life for the woman she loves [5.2k words]

⧗ Tattoos For Troubled Minds: [F] Natasha struggles to trust anyone when it comes to touching her body. But that becomes rather difficult when a tattoo idea comes into her mind that she just can’t shake [3.6k words]

⧗ Midnight: [A] Natasha has never learned how to rest, and at midnight is where she is most vulnerable [1.1k words]

⧗ I Know What You Are: [A] The bane of Natasha’s existence had finally slipped up but when sent to eliminate her, feeling get in the way far too easily. [5.9k words]

⧗ Mustang | cowgirl Nat AU: [H] The mayor’s daughter. A bounty hunter. One has freedom, the other does not. But will one fleeting night be enough to convince Natasha to leave everything she’s ever known behind? [4.3k words]

⧗ Is It All For Nothing?: [A] You just want a friend. Is that so bad? How is it fair that everyone else gets one but you. What did you do that was so wrong? [1.3k words]

⧗ Welcome To My Head At Midnight | song fic: [A] Natasha Romanoff is her own worst enemy and maybe this fight isn’t one she’s so sure she can win. [2k words]

⧗ Sunkissed By An Angel: [F] the perfect lazy morning in the Romanoff summer beach house. [1.5k words]

Yelena Belova | Oneshots

⧗ For Her: [F + A] Yelena tries to find the balance between spending christmas with her girl and tracking down Clint Barton… [1.7k words]

[widowmaxff]

— WIDOWMAXFF MASTERLIST !

HOW YOU CAN HELP PALESTINE! 💬

requests: open (but it will take me a while to do them)

— NATASHA ROMANOFF

you don't know what you got until it's gone (part 1) || (part 2)

⤷ synopsis: Natasha, your girlfriend, has been distant lately, it's time to have the talk.

the magic of christmas

⤷ synopsis: Natasha, your mother, never made you feel loved. Now at Christmas time, Wanda, your aunt, will help you regain that magic.

proud

⤷ synopsis: Natasha and Wanda, your mothers, don't seem to want to give you attention anymore. So, during a fight, they say things they shouldn't.

safe & sound

⤷ synopsis: Natasha and Wanda, your mothers, let you finally go on your first mission. But when a Hydra agent shows up, things don't end so well.

enough for you

⤷ synopsis: Natasha and Wanda, your mothers, comforts you after a bad week.

— YELENA BELOVA

caught

⤷ synopsis: Yelena, your girlfriend, and you were caught during an intimate moment.

— WANDA MAXIMOFF

bad day

⤷ synopsis: Wanda, your girlfriend, had a bad day. You try to comfort her, but it doesn't end that well.

the magic of christmas

⤷ synopsis: Natasha, your mother, never made you feel loved. Now at Christmas time, Wanda, your aunt, will help you regain that magic.

the sour taste

⤷ synopsis: Wanda, your mother, realizes that you don't have a very good relationship with food.

overwhelmed

⤷ synopsis: Wanda, your mother, helps you in moments when you feel overwhelmed.

proud

⤷ synopsis: Natasha and Wanda, your mothers, don't seem to want to give you attention anymore. So, during a fight, they say things they shouldn't.

come back, be here

⤷ synopsis: Wanda, your mother, was on a mission when, again, you started to have symptoms of separation anxiety.

safe & sound

⤷ synopsis: Natasha and Wanda, your mothers, let you finally go on your first mission. But when a Hydra agent shows up, things don't end so well.

enough for you

⤷ synopsis: Natasha and Wanda, your mothers, comforts you after a bad week.

hope ur okay

⤷ synopsis: Wanda, your mother, helps you when you tell her what are you feeling.

— KATE BISHOP

made shine again

⤷ synopsis: Kate, your girlfriend, is afraid of your mother Natasha, even more now when she catches you and her in an intimate moment.

[skylarinfinity]

[natasha try to teach child m/n some basic human interaction]

natasha: [hold up a picture] okay if we met someone new what do we say and do?

child m/n: we give them vodka shot and say “hello gorgeous, can i get your number? would love to see you on my bed tonight” [wink] than we go stalk them on internet [smile at his mother proudly]

natasha: [baffled by m/n answer] m/n малыш, who teach you this?

child m/n: nobody but i saw aunt yelena keep giving people vodka, uncle tony keep introduce himself like that and aunt wanda always stalk new people she met on facebook [giggle]

natasha: малыш try read this book [give m/n books for six years old] mummy have work to do for a minutes [kiss m/n head]

[natasha close m/n study room door]

natasha: [inhale angrily] anthony stark, yelena belova and wanda maximoff! meet me at living room now!

yelena, wanda and tony: [look eachother with horror] oh no.

author notes малыш = baby

tags lists @sonicqaulan @graysonfriggason @thebettermaximofftwins @sloanalistair @acienthazard @starlinggoldeneyes @ortegaolsen @wednesdaywanda @sandwichmarvel @gardenofmarvel @wanda-cabin-natasha-jacket

[hauntingmesostunningly]

marvel headcanons

weirdly specific headcanons for my favorite characters,

some traits may not align with canon or popular fan opinions. these are just my opinions, to each their own !!

!! TW: s/h , ptsd , disability , neurodivergence , anxiety , depression , alcohol

Gwen Stacy :

lesbian + non-binary

she/they

has a secret spider-girlfriend

obsessed with pop-tarts and tries them in every universe

spends her free time at the animal shelter petting dogs, the workers from many universes know her since they come by so often, and they always welcome her.

won’t admit it but secretly wants to be an english teacher when she grows up

Peter Parker :

trans ftm + bisexual

he/him

his parents are rich lawyers who travel a lot, so he’s always lived with his Aunt, May. doesn’t have contact with his birth parents

has social anxiety and a severe anxiety disorder

has a soft spot for dalmations

in the process of filing for a psychiatric service dog for his panic attacks

has adhd

Wanda Maximoff :

bisexual with a female preference

has a wife !!!

massive swiftie

has two twins and an adopted daughter

disability mom, billy has angelman syndrome and tommy has autism and epilepsy

in therapy to work on her trauma trigger responses ie. controllingness

has suffered with severe depression

loves loves loves dogs (has two goldendoodles, snowflake and rocky)

Yelena Belova :

queer woman

convert jew, found herself in the religion and found a community through a support group for, and run by, woman in her synagogue.

absolutely in love with Kate Bishop

very protective over kate and shows her off to everyone

has a ptsd service dog named sasha, who helps with her flashbacks

has struggled with s/h, but is in therapy and getting better

has a very sexual relationship with kate and everyone in the compound steers clear of the hallway where kate and yelena’s rooms are

Kate Bishop :

pansexual + demigirl

madly in love with Yelena Belova

super innocent but would do unholy things for her girlfriend

hates all dogs. except her dog, pizza-dog-lucky. lucky is different.

slight mommy issues

bottom asf , and a massive brat

super snarky but easily gets her feelings hurt

was homeschooled her whole life, and she never lost that childish energy

thinks her girlfriend’s protectiveness is cute, but loves to push against it to see yelena get all hot and bothered

always spends the holiday season with clint’s family (partially bec she loves them and partially to save on heating bills in the colder months)

spam posts every detail of her life on insta stories + makes mini-vlog reels 24/7

Natasha Romanoff :

demiromantic + unlabeled

hates labels, she likes who she likes end of story.

has a massive soft spot for cats, and has 3 of her own, Tumeric, Spots, and Dart.

has a massive unrequited crush on wanda

she’s labeled as the “bed-hopper” by her friends for her string of serial hookups after she left the redroom, but she wants nothing more than to settle down with a wife and even more cats.

top

big mommy issues and that usually comes across in her relationships, as she seeks out (sometimes older) people with nurturing qualities.

battled alcoholism during the dark days in the blip from losing her sister, but she has an amazing therapist and is now sober

Kamala Khan :

bisexual

she/they

really into tarot

best friends with America Chaves and has a small gay crush on her

constantly gets in trouble with teachers for being too loud and talking in class

has inattentive adhd and always forgets to take her meds

has a very popular carol danvers x fem reader fanfic on A03 that she hides from her parents but she always neglects her homework to make sure she updates regularly for her readers

loves tacos

has sensory issues and gets sensory overload breakdowns due to sound and this can trigger her powers to go haywire while she’s overstimulated

her family puts a lot of pressure on marriage but she just wants to live in a house with america and spend the rest of their lives together reading fanfic and rewatching avengers movies

she kissed america once and they never talked about it again, though they both have hinted at wanting to do it again.

[doudouneverte]

Shapeshifter and Valentine's Day | VW (d-four)

a/n: day four of the valentine week i hope you had a great day. here it is the fourth fic and it is in the same univers of my mama!nat fic and liked to write so i hope you'll like. And of course Happy Birthday to the gorgeous Elizabeth Olsen. See you tomorrow for the [Y.B] or [A.D] fic, i don't choose yet.

*not my GIF*

Wanda Maximoff x Romanoff!Reader; Natasha Romanoff x Daughter!Reader; Yelena Belova x Female!reader(aunt-niece); Pietro Maximoff x Female!Reader(best friend)

summary: today it's valentine's day but Wanda seem upset

Type: Fluff

Warning : me who don't know how to write a meal name and nothing else i thinks

word count: 1850

day one | day two | day three | day five | day six | day seven

----------------

You've unlocked a lot of skills since you grew up with your mom, but even if you could lie like a professional, there were three people who were able to tell when you weren't telling the truth: your mom, of course; your auntie Yelena; and your girlfriend Wanda (because of her power). But today you had planned something special, and you couldn't let anyone find it. It was a Tuesday; you came to school like you usually do, and you were greeted by Peter, Ned, and MJ. You talked about everything and nothing before you spotted silver hairs in front of your locker. "Hey Piet, how are you?" you asked, and he looked at where the voice came from.

"Oh, you're here," You looked confused. "Wanda wants to kill you, like literally, and I'm fast but not enough to stop her, so do something," he said and disappeared. You and your friends were stunts. Why would your girlfriend want to kill you? You started to remind yourself the last week to find out if you did something that could upset the Sokovian, but the answer came when you opened your locker. A wave of letters, and at the color and the heart stickers, that was Valentine's letter.

"Wow, you have a lot of fan Y/N" MJ commented, and you started to connect the dots. You picked up the letters and grabbed your things before heading to your math class. At the lunch break, you tried to speak with the witch, but she didn't even look at you. Okay, she gave you a cold treatment, and it was not your fault; that's not fair.

You thought about something to do, and you heard Pietro talk about training this afternoon, and you found a plan. After school, you rush to the compound "Good afternoon, Miss Romanoff, and happy Valentine's Day." Friday greeted you.

"Thanks you, Friday. Do you know where my mom is?" you asked

"Mrs. Romanoff is in the kitchen," the IA replied.

"Thanks you," and you ran to the kitchen, but before you met Maria, Steve, Sam, and Bucky, they seemed to talk about a previous mission, but you didn't mind; you greeted them and continued your course. In the kitchen, you found Natasha with a PBJ sandwich and Yelena, who was trying to cook something else except mac'n'cheese. Okay, it was weird, but you had the whole day to ask more about it. "Hey mom, hey auntie Yelena," you said loudly to not freak them out.

"Hey little poser, how was school?" The blonde asked, and you rolled your eyes at the nickname before replying.

"Horrible," you said, and Natasha frowned and raised her eyebrows. It was not uncommon for you to say 'school was... school' but this time it seems more than that.

"What happened, my love?" your mom asked with concern in her voice. You didn't reply; you just opened your bag and threw all the letters on the table. "What is that?" The sisters asked before they grabbed one letter and started to read it.

"Oh, the little witch is so romantic," your aunt commented.

"It's not from Wanda," you replied, and they both stared at you. They were expecting more: "It's from a girl or a guy in school, I don't know, but Wanda saw one of them put one letter in my locker, and she was upset all the day," when you explained you were making a PBJ sandwich too. You took a bite and spoke again: "I have to do something to tell her it was a misunderstanding, and Pietro tried to tell her, but even he didn't change anything." You took another bite: "I planned something, but I need your help," you said, and they gave you all their attention: "I need someone to distract her while I prepare a special date or something." Your mom was about to say something, but you cut her off: "Don't worry, we will stay at the compound."

"So what do you want to do?" Yelena asked

"I need you to help me cook something for her," you said to the younger widow and looked at the older, "and I need you to reschedule her training to this afternoon to give us the time to prepare anything."

"Hey, I can help in the kitchen too," your mom argued, and you both raised your eyebrows at her. "Okay, maybe I'm not as good as your auntie, but I can do something too, like be your sous-chef." You didn't lower your eyebrows and look at her sandwich; the redhead looked at the sandwich too. "Okay, but you own me a lot of cuddles for this," she said before exiting the kitchen.

After twenty minutes, you finally found a meal to do: chicken paprika. It's her favorite food, so you couldn't fail. Wanda came to the kitchen and said, "Hello, Yelena." She grabbed a bottle of water and some snacks.

"Hey little witch, how was school?" Yelena asked

"Like usual, you know school is school." She started to walk away until Yelena called her.

"Where are you going?"

"Training, Natasha, reschedule for today." She restarted walking when you spoke.

"Don't hurt my mom too much, babe," you said, but she didn't reply and walked away for good. "Oh no, don't worry, you know I love you too much to do something like that, darling. Okay, I love you. Bye,  honey. "I love you too; see you later, detka" you whispered to yourself, and your aunt couldn't hold back her laughter at your antics.

"She didn't even look at you; you're really fucked up, little poser," you sighed, and you both started to cook. It was hard, like really hard and tiring, and you failed twice, but now it was 9 p.m. and you finally made something that looked and tasted like Wanda's paprishka. You were glad and decided to take a shower before seeing your pouty girlfriend. On your way to your mom's room, you met Pietro.

"Hey little spider, how is my sestra?" He asked and walked with you.

"She was mad the last time I saw her; she didn't even look at me." Pietro lands his hand on your shoulder to show you his support, "But don't worry, Piet, I decided to make something that will bring my girlfriend back," and without another word you rush to the bedroom, then to the bathroom.

You needed this shower; like, really, the day was exhausting with Wanda, who was in a bad mood, your mom, who pouted because you didn't want to cook with her, and Yelena, who almost killed you when she tried to show you how skilled she was with a knife. Yeah, you needed this time alone. After changing yourself, you rush to Wanda's room, but before you steal a rose from the bouquet Tony wanted to offer to Pepper (they won't see), you were here in front of the door, and you were... stressed? Yeah, of course, because you know she could decide to not forgive you or, worse, not talk to you, and that would mean you did all this for nothing.

'Knock knock' the witch looked at the door and waited a little longer before hearing someone knock again. "Come in," she said, and you opened the door. She saw your face and the apology look on it; she saw the rose; and she saw your smile when she didn't throw you across the hallway after seeing it was you. Honestly, she had already "forgiven" you, and she wanted to apologize. No,  she needed to apologize. It was not really your fault if they put letters on your locker, but it was too much for her.

"Hey Wands, I want to apologize for this morning. I should've known..." She cut you off.

"Y/n stop." and you did "You don't have to apologize; I should do it, and I'm sorry. I knew it was not your fault if you received those letters, but I was scared that maybe you would want to be with them, so I acted like a child. I know I shouldn't be jealous or something; I know you love me, but I needed to be mad at someone, and I can't hurt people, so I was mad at you. You didn't deserve it, and I'm really sorry. Forgive me, Y/n, please."

You were speechless. You came to apologize and remind her that she was the only one you wanted, but now you didn't really know what to do, so you had to improvise. "Okay, I accept your apology on two conditions." She nodded hesitantly. "One, you took this rose because I think I cut myself with a thorn." She took the flower carefully, and she smirked. "And two, I want you to kiss me; like, really, I missed you all day. I start to know what Tony feels when Pepper is busy with work—"you were cut off when she crashed her lips against yours.

When she pulled away, you wanted to complain, but you both heard a voice from the doorframe: "It was like the cutest thing I've ever seen in my life." Pietro said you both blushed before you noticed what he had in his hands.

"Pietro, what do you eat?" You asked and secretly hoped he would not say what you thought.

"Oh, someone made the dinner and we were about to eat that's why I'm here." You were about to say something, but the speedster was... faster. "I don't know who prepared this paprishka, but it's pretty good." he look at Wanda "not good as yours but it's good you should taste"

"Pietro, that was not for you," they both looked at you, "it was for my date with Wanda," you added, and the witch blushed. Suddenly, Yelena appeared next to your best friend.

"Y/n, they are ruining your date with the little witch," she said, and then looked at the boy. "Oh, is it good?" She asked, and he nodded, "Good because we spent a lot of time to do this." She then looked at you and said, "You should come to eat and have 'family dinner'." She made air quotes, and you laughed.

When she and Pietro left to eat, you were alone with Wanda. "I think I hate them," you said, and she chuckled.

"We both know it's not true," she replied.

"Yeah, but I wish I could."

"If you hate them, can you keep loving me?"

"Always," and you kissed her. "Now let's go before they finish everything." You stood up and started to walk to the kitchen.

"Y/N?" Wanda called you, and you turned around to look at her "I love you."

You blushed. "I love you too, Wanda," you replied, giving her an air kiss. "Now the first at the kitchen, choose the film for tonight." You started to run.

"Hey, that's not fair!" the Sokovian started to run too. "I hate you, Y/N!" she yelled.

"We know it's not true!" you yelled back.

---------------------

[dykebelova]

White Widow #1 by Sarah Gailey review.

We can all agree that we all fell in love with Florence Pugh’s Yelena Belova in Black Widow (2021) and for many people, including me, she was our first introduction to the character. And as an absolute, completely sane and normal person, I said to myself “Why not read all of her appearances in the comics ?”, and I did.

Surprisingly, both characters are incredibly different. Nonetheless, both interesting and amazing on their own. While I agree that MCU Yelena has more depth and perhaps, more personality, comics Yelena is still a good character. The way she has been written has been very disturbing, even sick and twisted sometimes, like Pale Little Spider (2002) or Black Widow (2001). Sometimes messy, and I suggest everybody forget her Adaptoid phase or anything that ever happened in Secret Avengers (2013) for her sake. But still, you don't erase almost 25 years of a character's development, even if it has been inconsistent, just because you felt like it.

In the comics, Yelena has always been in Natasha’s shadow and has never had her own original story. In Widowmakers: Red Guardians and Yelena Belova (2020) and Winter Guard (2021), we had a glimpse of hope to finally see her character evolve despite Red Guardian’s appearance, a character linked to Natasha. When a limited-serie on White Widow, a character that hasn’t been properly developed and deserved to, was announced, I fucking cheered man. But then I remembered the curse of a character’s MCUfication, because Marvel never does anything right. And oh boy was I not prepared for what was coming…

I don’t even know where to begin. It all felt like a giant fanfiction written by someone who has only ever seen the movie and didn’t even bother to check on other writers’ previous work on Yelena’s character.

White Widow (2023) #1.

There are lots of things wrong in this picture. First and second panel, where does the needle come from ? After I checked and double checked just in case, there were NO records of Yelena being abducted or forced to do anything she has done in her life. She chose to join the Red Room. She chose to be a Black Widow and she was determined to outperform Natasha’s results during tests. She even had a whole mental breakdown about it.

Pale Little Spider (2002) #1

Now, let’s try to find excuses for the use of the needle… The first one would be the Red Room using the Black Widow’s serum they used on the 28th original Widows, during Natasha’s era. But our good ol' Grigor Ivanovich just ruined this theory.

Black Widow (2004) #4

Excuse number two, the Red Room used some sort of a mind-control serum which wouldn’t make any sense too for all of the reasons I said above.

Now the third panel… I’m at a loss for words. Where the fuck does it comes from. Where the FUCK was it during Secret Empire (2017) ? Yelena wasn’t even there anymore, bitch was dead. We didn’t see her until Tales of Suspense: Hawkeye and The Winter Soldier (2018), until she was brought back to life WITH Natasha. Also, she has a real family and they’re even mentioned in Black Widow (2001), Yelena calls her mother and her aunt Olga is mentioned.

White Widow (2023) #1

Now, the board... It looks like it has been made for a MCU tie-in more than anything.

Although I'd like to adress one thing that has been said on Twitter, about the "Hate nationalism → Imperialist invasion". There is a difference between nationalism and patriotism. Being a nationalist is being way too extreme about your country when being a patriot is to love your country, its people and its culture while also being critical about the way its being led.

Now, we know when she was young, Yelena was kind of extreme. In Black Widow: The Things They Say About Her (2005) #1, she admitted she was willing to sacrifice herself for the Motherland more than once. During her Black Widow era, she was naive and had a blind love for Russia which was her biggest weakness.

Black Widow (2001) #3

But as her character continued to evolve and grow through her appearences, Yelena is far more reasonable now. She considers herself like a true patriot and she has always been proud of being Russian. In conclusion, this board's section is not as bad as people make it out to be since Yelena went from being an extreme nationalist to a patriot.

Widowmakers: Red Guardian and Yelena Belova (2020)

I know many of you like Kate Bishop and Yelena’s friendship due to their duo in Hawkeye, I too, am a big fan of them… But unfortunately, they only interacted once in the comics. And they didn’t even talk to each other. That’s why mentioning Kate Bishop in her like section is purely fan service and although it is a nice nod to the series, it doesn’t make any sense here. Yelena has interacted with Clint Barton way more than the better Hawkeye, which is sad.

Black Widow (2020) #10

I'd like to come back in the hate section just a second to say I don't know why she hates the Infinity Gauntlet so much that's it's written in caps. It's 100% a nod to the MCU again but here it also doesn't make sense. But again, a lot of things doesn't in this issue.

I wont bother talking about her attitude and how she looks like a teenager swallowing vodka directly from a bottle when she used to be classy and extra with manners. I wont bother talking about her new suit's design which sucks more than her previous one. This is not the Yelena Belova we used to know, it's a complete new character made to match her MCU self and please a small public who mostly watch the movies/series.

I saw a lot of people celebrating Yelena's changes to match Yelena's Florence Pugh more. I know the character has become more famous because of Flo', but this is actually terrible and wasn't handled correctly.

We hoped for a more mature story, maybe a little darker than usual. A new start for her character, to follow her path in making the world a better place and get out of Natasha’s shadow for good. With a little backstory too, nothing much. The bare minimum. Instead, we had a copycat of her MCU counterpart and it is just heartbreaking to see a character I loved so much being destroyed like that.

I could go on and on about why this piece of junk is just a bunch of nonsense and laziness and how Sarah Gailey’s just went for the easiest writing ever… But I will stop there. I just hope she knows that us, fan of comics Yelena, are fucking disappointed. Everything that made her character so special and dear to us, disappeared in one issue. The damage is surreal.

It’s only four issues long so I will continue to read it until the end, but I expect nothing from it anymore. I hope the writer won’t destroy Yelena’s character any further, because things can only go downhill from here.

[thepenguinandthefiend]

My F/Os

Since I've decided to become a self-ship blog now, here's a list of my f/os. There will likely be more added later.

Romantic F/Os:

Zatanna Zatara (DC comics) {no sharing} Johanna Mason (Hunger Games) {no sharing} Desire (The Sandman) {no sharing} Elektra Natchios (Marvel comics) {no sharing} Bucky Barnes (MCU) {sharing iffy} Illyana Rasputin (X-Men) {no sharing} Bill Potts (Doctor Who) {sharing ok} Dean Winchester (Supernatural) {no sharing} Mazikeen (Lucifer) {sharing iffy} Remy LeBeau (X-Men) {sharing iffy} Gareth Ritter (Brain Dead) {no sharing} Vanessa Morales (In the Heights) {sharing iffy} Faith Lehane (Buffy the Vampire Slayer) {sharing ok} Elsa Bloodstone (Marvel Comics) {no sharing} Boodikka (Green Lantern) {sharing ok} Felicity Smoak (Arrow) {sharing iffy} Lena Luthor (Supergirl) {sharing iffy} Emilia Rothschild (Jack of All Trades) {sharing ok} Shotzi (WWE) {no sharing} Finn Balor (WWE) {no sharing} Abadon (AEW) {no sharing} Tulip O'Hare (Preacher) {sharing ok} Queen Emeraldas (Galaxy Express 999) {sharing ok} Dr. Kimiyo Hoshi (DC Comics) {sharing iffy} Darby Allin (AEW) {no sharing} Jenny Green (Dead Boy Detectives) {sharing iffy} Bleez (Green Lantern) {sharing ok} Klaus Hargreeves (Umbrella Academy) {no sharing} Harley Quinn (DC Comics) {sharing iffy} Poison Ivy {sharing iffy}

Queer-Platonic F/Os:

America Chavez (Young Avengers) Ella Lopez (Lucifer) Finnick Odair (Hunger Games) Hartley Rathaway (Flash/DC comics) Kate Bishop (Young Avengers) Monica Rambeau (Marvel Comics/MCU) Larissa Duan (Check, Please) Roxie Richter (Scott Pilgrim) Shvaughn Erin (Legion of Superheroes) Bling Mag (Repo: the Genetic Opera) Drew McIntyre (WWE) Yelena Belova (Marvel Comics) Ianto Jones (Torchwood) Benny Lafitte (Supernatural) Carla (In the Heights)

Platonic F/Os:

Kon-El (DC comics) Eliot Waugh (The Magicians) Jonathan Crane (DC comics) Wallace Wells (Scott Pilgrim) Ragdoll (Secret Six) Yukio Okumura (Blue Exorcist) Winn Schott Jr. (Supergirl) Edward Nygma (Gotham) William Poindexter (Check, Please) Jaysen Caulfield (Icebreaker) Onomatopoeia (DC comics) Topher Brink (Dollhouse) Danhausen (AEW) Roy Harper (DC comics/Arrowverse) Beetlejuice (Beetlejuice: the Musical)

Familial F/Os:

Alfred Pennyworth (DC comics) [grandfather] The Master (Doctor Who) [father] Wanda Maximoff (Marvel comics) [mother] Ursula (The Little Mermaid) [mother] Queen of Hearts (Alice in Wonderland) [mother] Bruce Wayne (DC comics) [father] Pietro Maximoff (Marvel comics) [uncle] Lorna Dane (Marvel comics) [aunt] Erik Lensher (Marvel comics) [grandfather] John Constantine (DC comics/Arrowverse) [older brother] Leon Kennedy (Resident Evil) [older brother] Leonard Snart (DC comics/Arrowverse) [older brother] Lisa Snart (DC comics/Arrowverse) [older sister] Kent Parson (Check, Please) [older brother] Dick Grayson (DC comics) [older brother] Jason Todd (DC comics) [older brother] Enjolras (Les Miserables) [twin brother] Tim Drake (DC comics) [younger brother] Damian Wayne (DC comics) [younger brother] Stephanie Brown (DC comics) [younger sister] Cassandra Cain (DC comics) [younger sister] Duke Thomas (DC comics) [younger brother] Billy Kaplan (Young Avengers) [younger brother] Tommy Shepherd (Young Avengers) [younger brother] Spike (Buffy the Vampire Slayer) [adopted brother] Dirk Gently (Dirk Gently's Holistic Detective Agency) [cousin] Graham Miller (Buffy the Vampire Slayer) [cousin] Percy de Rolo (Vox Machina) [cousin] Luna Maximoff (Marvel comics) [cousin] 10K (Z-Nation) [son] Lonnie Machin (DC comics) [son] Andrew Wells (Buffy the Vampire Slayer) [adopted son] Giovanni Zatara (DC Comics) [father-in-law] Piotr Rasputin (X-Men) [brother-in-law] Teddy Altman (Young Avengers) [brother-in-law] Sam Winchester (Supernatural) [brother-in-law] Adam Milligan (Supernatural) [brother-in-law] Dream (Sandman) [brother-in-law] Death (Sandman) [sister-in-law] Delirium (Sandman) [sister-in-law] Despair (Sandman) [sister-in-law] Destiny (Sandman) [brother-in-law] The Prodigal (Sandman) [brother-in-law] Luther Hargreeves (Umbrella Academy) [brother-in-law] Diego Hargreeves (Umbrella Academy) [brother-in-law] Allison Hargreeves (Umbrella Acadmy) [sister-in-law] Five Hargreeves (Umbrella Academy) [brother-in-law] Ben Hargreeves (Umbrella Academy) [brother-in-law] Viktor Hargreeves (Umbrella Academy) [brother-in-law/best friend]

Pet F/Os:

Lockheed (X-Men) Dex-Starr (DC comics) Cheshire Cat (Alice in Wonderland)